#like i could deal with being the one no one wanted it has always been like this my whole life
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❝ 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 !! ❞
❝ WHEN YOUR CHILDHOOD BEST FRIEND OFFERS TO TEACH YOU HOW TO LOVE, HOW CAN YOU SAY NO ?? ❞
✧ pairing: college student!yuji itadori x f!reader
✧ summary: yuji itadori has been your best friend since you were kids, and when he offers you to teach you how to fuck, you don't expect him to be able to find his way into your heart too.
✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, aged up characters (don't like? don't read), childhood best friends to fwb to lovers, college au! (no curses), reader is the same age as yuji (both 20s), grew up as neighbors, mutual pining, nobara playing cupid, jealous!yuji, yuji is so golden retriever bf, nightmares, mentions of parental death via car crash (yuji), adoptive dad nanamin :), nipple play, oral (f + m), fingering (f! receiving), handjob (m! receiving), semi public sex (under a blanket with sleeping friends nearby), sex (p in v), creampie, swearing, fanart by unknown artist (found on pinterest, pls let me know if you know the og artist so i can credit)
✧ wc: 13,544
✧ for my 2k celebration event: item 5 has been sold to two anons!
“You want me to teach you?”
The words left your best friend’s lips nonchalantly as if he was asking you if you wanted him to teach you how to ride a bike.
But that’s not what he was offering to have you ride—
“Yuji,” you say slowly, “what are you saying? Do you even know what you’re saying?”
Yuji Itadori was dense, but you knew he was far from stupid. You learned that in third grade when he punched a bully that had been picking on you, the final straw being when he had tripped you, causing you to skin your knee. Before you could even well any tears up in your eyes, you heard a thwack and a yelp as Yuji had laid the boy out on the playground. You stared at Yuji, as he offered you his other hand to help you to your feet, as your eyes slid from him to your bully.
Yuji knelt down, carrying you on his back to the nurse’s office, “but Yuji, what about him? We left him—“
And he set you down outside the nurse’s office — and he only smiled that wide smile he had always reserved for you, “Don’t worry — I made sure no one was looking.”
But now, you were beginning to doubt his sanity, rather than his intelligence — “I know what I’m saying,” he chuckles, trademark smile on his lips, “I’m just offering you the chance to practice,”
“This isn’t practicing a sport or test—you’re offering,” you shift on your bed, while Yuji lounges on the floor, back against the bottom of your bed, “you’re offering to sleep with me, Yuji,” he leans his head on your bed, looking up at you at way, your face upside in his vision.
“I know, I know, but it’s not a big deal is it?” he’s acting so nonchalant you wonder if one of his teammates had hit him hard in the head during practice, “we’ve had all our firsts together,”
You scoff, “That was like our first steps, first day of school, first drink—“
“First kiss—“ he interrupts, and your face burns at the memory — a preadolescent game gone wrong that ended up with you and Yuji sharing your first kiss when you were teens.
“That wasn’t real,” you wave him off, crossing your arms, “and this isn’t just a kiss for a game—this could change our friendship—“
“It won’t, if we don’t let it,” his gaze is more serious than you’ve ever seen Yuji be — not when he was usually all wide smiles and enthusiasm, “it’s us, we can get through it, and we don’t have to let it get weird right?”
You chew on your lip, “Yuji, what do you get out of it?” And he’s tilting his head at your question— “I mean you don’t have to do this — just because I’m insecure because I don’t have experience,” you mumble.
And that’s how the conversation had started — your complaints about your friends talking about their boyfriends, exes, and hookups, while you just nodded along — far too aware that you hadn’t even had a proper kiss, much less sex. And now you had found yourself here.
“Look,” he slides up to sit on your bed, a good distance away from you, his eyes finding yours — warm hazel that felt as if it was drizzling over your skin wherever his gaze traveled, “I want your first time to be safe. I don’t want you to just hook up with someone and something bad to happen because you can’t say no — with me,” he clenched his hand into a fist holding his other hand flat as he gently hit his fist against it, “you can tell me to stop and if I somehow don’t or don’t hear you, punch me,”
You snort, “Yuji,” he’s shaking his head.
“I’m serious, I want you to be safe,” and you’re fidgeting with your fingers in your lap — this was Yuji, Yuji — you couldn’t say you hadn’t noticed how well he had grown up. Not when all of your friends drooled over him — especially with how liked he was — by everyone.
“What if I lose you?” And he chuckles, as he breaches your personal space and his hand brushes yours.
“You won’t, ever. I promise,” and your breath catches — many millions of times had Yuji touched you throughout your lives — an arm over over your shoulder, a hug, even holding your hand through crowds during festivals — but a simple brush of his fingers against yours had your heart rattling against its bony enclosure, begging for you to let it out, “what do ya think?”
And you’re thinking — this would be the best outcome — you weren’t one to hook up with a stranger and you were burnt out on dead end dating app conversations, and to have your first time with someone close, someone you knew — it would be ideal.
“Are you sure?” And his lips curl into a soft smile, leaning closer, as his fingers gently brush against your locks.
“Would I be here like this if I wasn’t?” his breath warms your lips, as his fingers skim your cheek, “is this okay?”
You nod wordlessly, unable to find the words to even reply — you had never thought of this situation would ever happen — especially like this. You lean against his hand, calloused from his practices, but as gentle as it always was.
“We can take it as slow as you need,” he murmurs, as he’s even closer now, your eyes fluttering shut, only for his lips to graze your forehead. You pause at the featherlight touch — wondering if it actually happened when your eyes open to find his, “no need to rush, right?” He smiles, as he gets to his feet, “are we still on for tomorrow’s study session?”
“Of course,”
He scratches the back of his head, “Good because I still don’t understand math or why I need it, but unfortunately, I still have to pass,” he grabs his bag, “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he offers a smile before he’s gone.
And you’re left sitting on your bed, the warmth of his touch still on your skin, wondering what the fuck just even happened.
“Yuji, you just have to solve for x,” you sigh, explaining the problem for the billionth time, as his pen waves back forth between two fingers, “it’s simple,”
Your weekly study sessions with Yuji were a constant throughout your life, though more for Yuji than you. Yuji is very intelligent, despite his demeanor in class where it felt as if there was a perpetual question mark over his head — he just learned by seeing and then doing. And the repetition helped you all the same. But you had never felt so conscious sitting next to the boy you called your best friend.
“Maybe to you, but I don’t why math has to involve letters,” he wrinkled his nose at the problem, sighing, as he twists the pen around his hand, and your eyes catch the movement — you didn’t know how the little boy’s whose hands you used to hold had gotten so big now — calloused from his practices, but so soft against your skin, “is something interesting about my hands?”
Your eyes snap up to meet his, cheeks burning as you shake your head, “No, just, uh, impressed that you can twist the pen around your hand like that,”
“Oh, that?” he’s as unfazed as usual, leaning back a little, “that’s easy. I could show you if you want,”
“It’s fine,” and you’re trying to focus back on the problem, when you find him still staring, “what is it?”
“If you wanted to hold my hand, you just had to ask,” his fingers graze yours, with enough time for you to pull away, before his fingers lace with yours, “and we can do more if you want?”
This was crazy — it was probably a mistake, but — as his touch made your heart flutter, warm rolling in waves that erupted into butterflies in your stomach — why weren’t you pulling away?
“What does more entail?” and he inches a little closer, his breath warming your lips, “but you still haven’t gotten this problem down, are you just trying to get out of studying?”
A chuckle on his lips, “Maybe I’m just looking for the right motivation, so how about we make a deal?” He moves over, spreading his legs apart, and pats the floor in front of you — for each question I get right, I get a kiss,”
And why you agreed to this, you really didn’t have words—but now you were sat between his legs, nearly in his lap, as he leaned forward — his chest against your back as his chin brushed your shoulder and his cheek brushed against your own, breath warming your neck — trying to get a better look at the math problem. His arm was wrapped around your side as his pen scratched against the scrap paper, trying to solve the problem. You bit your lip, trying your best not to glance at him, but you spot his wrinkled brow out of the corner of his lip and the tip of his tongue poking ever so slightly out of his mouth— and your lips curled, he still had that habit from when you were kids.
“There, I think I solved it,” he murmurs, and you have to hold back a shiver at the words rumbled against your ear, “is it right?”
And god, you could barely think, much less do math, but as you glance over the question and answer — he’s got it right.
Fuck.
“It is,” you say softly, “is all you need some motivation? Because I would have just promised I would go to see the next Human Earthworm movie,”
He chuckles, his lips nearly against your ear, as his hand gently traces your jaw, “I’d like that, but I think i rather have what I was promised, as long as you’re still okay with that,”
Your breath hitches, as you follow his lead, rough pads still so gentle against your cheek, as your eyes find his, but you don’t find his usual doe eyes — but instead find pools of lust threatening to drag you under. Although from the way your lips part and eyes flutter shut, perhaps he had you underwater for far longer than you even knew.
His lips graze yours — it’s barely a kiss, a peck maybe — as he does his best to ease you in. You didn’t know lips could be so soft — meeting again and again, stealing logic from your mind and breath from your lungs.
“Are you okay?” He’s murmuring, not even a breath away from your lips. You’re nearly dizzy, mind reeling from his touch, heart jumping at his thumb rubbing lightly against your cheek.
“I am, just a little strange to be kissing, much less you,” and his brow knits together, “but not bad at all,” you add, and he chuckles, his fingers grazing your cheek firmer, as he leans in again, “we said one kiss—“
“Do you really want to stop now?” he’s murmuring, and your noses bump against each other.
Your lips find his again and now you can taste the sour candy he had stolen from you, but an overwhelming sweetness overrides it, and your hand brushes against his cheek, the other finding purchase on his chest.
“Is that okay?” You murmur, as you lips part, the two of you catching your breath, your shared pants filling the silence, your cheeks burning as your eyes avert from his, “I don’t know—“
“You’re fine, don’t worry about it,” a small chuckle on his lips, fingers cupping your chin to guide your gaze back to his — a subtle heat that makes your insides turn to molasses, sticky and sweet and far too warm, “just do what feels right, ok?”
And his lips find yours again, gently as he did the first time, but more passion behind it, swallowing your quiet murmur of his name with ease. Your lips move against his just as his did — you try to push aside the thoughts of whether you were doing this right. But the slight brush of his teeth against your bottom lip makes you forget too with a gasp.
He pulls away with a grin on his lips, “Sorry, couldn’t resist,” and his lips are kissed red, your thumb brushed against his swollen lips, “don’t tempt me more,”
“You’re the one who started this, shouldn’t you take some responsibility, Yu?” your lips graze his cheek, curling as a rosy flush settles over his cheekbones, “nothing to say?”
“You’re making it hard for me to hold back,” and he’s burying his face in the side of your neck, making you shiver, as he pulls you even closer, arms around your waist, “I don’t want to rush you,”
Cute, you think before you even think, and yet the way his face is hidden away in your neck, breath warming your neck makes your body flush, and when have you ever thought of Yuji as cute? And yet you couldn’t remember a time that he made your heart race either.
His lips press a small kiss to your neck, drawing a yelp from your lips, “Yuji—“ he’s nosing the hollow of your throat, “ah, you’re teasing me,” you whine, and he’s lifting his gaze back to yours, heavy with want, a want that leaves you bereft of any semblance of sense.
“You started it,” he murmurs, before he finds your lips in another kiss — this time it’s a slow heat, languid as it threatens to burn both of you alive, flames licking at the edges of your reason. And his phone goes off — a reminder for practice that he groans at, “I should go. I have to go run laps,”
“Now?” And he’s slowly disentangling himself from you, the absence of his touch lingers, the heat ebbing, “don’t you usually practice in the mornings?” You get to your feet slowly as well, handing him his math notebook, and it occurs to you when you spot the puddles outside, “it was too wet,”
And he nods, scratching the back of his head, as the two of you walk out into your apartment’s living space, “and I forgot my protein shake—“ you head over to the kitchen, opening the refrigerator door and pulling out his shake, and he blinks, “how—“
“You did the same thing last week, so I just bought a pack for you,” and his lips curl as he walks over and takes the bottle from your hand, fingers brushing — and even that much alight a flutter of nerves through your body.
“Thanks,” he grins, and you nod.
“Of course, I thought it just made sense since you come here every week—” you turn to shut the refrigerator, before turning back, only to find him stepping a bit closer, “Yu—“
“I almost forgot, one more lesson,” and he’s leaning close, and your breath catches in your throat, as his lips brush yours, fingers tracing the swell of your cheek, “a kiss goodbye,” and he parts, a brush of his fingers against yours, “I’ll text you later,” and he’s gone in a flash.
Your left, fingertips touching your lips, a questioning lingering as he left — whether these feelings blooming in your chest were just from the kiss, or something more.
But you glance at your phone — a text from Yuji:
Golden Retriever Bestie: thanks for the drink again :)
You lock the screen — but you couldn’t hope for more, right? Not when this was started with the intention of stopping. But why—as you laid back into bed, staring up at your ceiling in the same room the two of you had spent the last two years watching movies or studying in, eyes squeezing shut—
Why did you still want more?
When did Yuji Itadori fall in love with you? It would probably be easier for him to list the moments he hadn’t fallen for you — but the earliest he can remember was when he had hurt himself climbing a tree in the schoolyard, falling from the branch he had made it to. You had been watching him the whole time, telling him to come down, and when he fell, you were at his side. His vision was a little blurry but when it cleared, he saw you knelt above him, big tears leaving your eyes. And when he came to, you hugged him tight, before helping him to the nurse’s. You had even insisted on bandaging his cuts, not letting the nurse do so.
And that’s when he knew — he knew he always wanted to wake to you beside him.
“You what?” Nobara scoffed at him, as she held up another of her new purchases in front of her while looking in her full length mirror, “so instead of asking her out and confession this pathetic crush—“
“Pathetic is kinda harsh, Kugisaki—“
“It’s been over a decade — your one sided feelings is now in secondary school — it’s officially pathetic,” she hangs up the new leather jacket she bought in her closet, before turning to Yuji, “so instead of confessing, you asked her to be your friends with benefits—“
“That’s not exactly—“ she cuts him off with a look, “ok that’s kind of what I did,” he shakes his head, “she was venting about how she never had her first kiss and words started coming out of my mouth and wouldn’t stop—“
“Not the first time that’s happened to you is it?” And Yuji glares at her through the mirror, “what? You came to me instead of Fushiguro because you wanted a pretty girl’s opinion right?”
“I said girl, nothing about—“ it was her turn to glare at him, “alright, alright — what do I do now? I want to tell her I like her, but if I do, I might seem like a—“
“A creep? A weirdo? A pervert?”
“I was gonna say liar, but those too,” he rubbed a hand down his face, “what do I do?”
She sighs, tucking a strand of her dyed hair behind her ear, “the only thing to do in situation like this,”
“Tell the truth?” And she scoffs.
“No, of course not, just use this time to make her fall for you, but that means you’ll have to use this agreement to your advantage,” she hums, “she said she wanted more experience right?” And Yuji nods, “who says it has to just be making out and sex?”
“You want to go on a date? Fuck,” you mutter under your breath as you turn the heat of your burner down, hoping you hadn’t completely burned your omelet now as you flipped it, “I thought this was just supposed to be for the more…physical sides of things,” your cheeks burned.
God, what the fuck.
“I mean part of gaining experience is learning how to date, right?” And you’re placing your slightly burned omelet in the plate, as you wipe your hands off with your dishcloth, “we could go to an arcade, maybe catch a movie,”
“Human Earthworm 4?” And you hear him chuckle over the line, and the sound makes your lips curl — it always felt like an accomplishment making him laugh, but even more so now.
“We don’t have to—“
“I don’t mind,” you cut him off, and you never did — you just loved to tease him, as you always did, “they’ve grown on me,” and you didn’t know there was more room for Yuji to grow on you, you thought his roots had already went far and deep, tangled around every inch of yourself and your mind, even your heart — but now—
“Does 2 PM work? I’ll come by and pick you up from your place,” and you didn’t know where it would go but—
“Sounds perfect,” he had found his way into a place you never thought anyone would find themselves in. — and as he hung up, biting your bottom lip—
And it seemed he was here to stay.
“You’re such a cheater,” you glared at Yuji as he won for the tenth time at the boxing game — hitting the max score every time, “tell me what the trick is,”
“You know I’m strong,” Yuji gapes, holding his arm, “how would I cheat?” And you’re pouting, crossing your arms.
“You’re cheating by being you,” and Yuji has to bite back his smile — you were being so cute — but he knows saying that will earn him a punch in the shoulder harder than you gave the punching bag on the machine, “now you have to buy me an ice cream,”
“For?” He raises an eyebrow.
“For being a cheater,” and he can’t help the chuckle that leaves his lips that earns him a bunch of slaps to his arm, before he’s wrapping that same arm around your waist, your complaints chased away by a gasp, “what—“
“I was going to buy you anything you wanted anyway, it is a date after all,” he smiles, and you stammer, but you don’t pull away, “what flavor do you want?” After you tell him, he goes off to the concession to buy you both some ice cream, and when he finds you at a table, he sees you’re not alone. His lips are a tight line, as he finds a guy leaning against the booth you sat in, clearly flirting with you, your back to Yuji so he can’t see your face.
He finds his way back to you, his hand brushes your shoulder gently, “is everything okay?” He asks you, meeting your gaze without regard for the stranger — and he’s glad he did, because he spots your pursed lips and darting eyes that told him everything he needed to know, “you need something?” He asks the guy, a friendly smile on his lips.
“Not from you,” the guy scoffs, “I was talking to—“
“Well, you’re talking to me now, not my date, so—“ and you’re leaning into Yuji, “you need something or not?” And the guy grumbles something under his breath before slinking away, and Yuji’s sliding in beside you when you move over, “you okay?”
“Yeah, he wouldn’t leave,” you sigh, shaking your head, “sorry—“
“You have nothing to be sorry about,” he murmurs, as he hands you your ice cream, “as long as you’re okay,” his arm slides around your shoulder and squeezes you, “i would’ve punched him if it wouldn’t have ruined our date,”
You snort, as you lick your ice cream, “if you punched him harder than you did the bag, don’t know if this date would have ended with us going home,” and he pouts, as he laps at his ice cream, and he feels you turn to look at him, “Didn’t know you were the jealous type, Yu,” and he chuckles, he wanted to say — only when it came to you.
But he knew that he couldn’t. Not like this.
“I didn’t think I was either.”
“Nope, not gonna admit it,” and Yuji’s grinning still, as the two of you walk out of the theater, his arm still around your shoulder, “no it wasn’t that good,”
If there was one thing about Yuji is that movies were literally his obsession — one movie marathon when the two of you were teens had turned him into a fanatic. And he often ended up dragging you to all of them he saw in theaters — and you probably had watched the Human Earthworm movies the most amount of times anyone ever has — aside from Yuji. Well, more like you watched him watch it, because while he was smiling and laughing (or crying) at the movie, you were looking at him.
And right now, he looked far too smug, “So you admit that it was good,” and you cross your arms, shaking your head, “I saw you tearing up at the end — I told you, it’s all about love!”
You purse your lips, if only to hold back your smile, before sighing, “How would no one tear up at that ending?” And his hand’s grabbing yours, tugging at your arm, as the two of you walk along, “Yu—“
“I knew you liked it! C’mon, I knew you would, now what was your favorite part?” And your lips curl into a smile, “what?”
That was one of the things you loved the most about Yuji, how excited he could get — how he loved everything so wholeheartedly with no reservations, and you knew he was the one person you could always count on to cheer you up.
“Nothing, nothing,” you chuckle, letting your fingers lace with his, “my favorite part?” And you want to say — watching him enjoy the movie.
But you can’t.
“Probably the ending,” you slowly smile, “liked it when the credits rolled,” and he’s mock glaring, as you laugh before his arm tightening around your waist, “Yu-ji—“
“Not going to be honest?” He murmurs, before kissing your chin, “then maybe I’ll make you.”
“Yu—ngh, please,” Yuji could get addicted to your taste, it was never enough, was it? His lips had spent the last twenty minutes kissing every inch of your face and neck, traversing over every nook and cranny as he always wanted to — and yet it was never enough. Any time spent with you was never enough —because you always made anything better, and nothing ever worse.
And he knew no one else would ever feel this good.
How many times had he imagined just this scenario? Of you in his bedroom with him alone, as you had been many times before, but never like this. You never looked at him like that before — with that shyness mixed with an undercurrent of want. And it was enough to rip him away and drag him under with you.
“Please what, baby?” Yuji looks up with a wry smile and soft eyes that burn a path where as it raked down your body like coals across a fire, “want me to stop?” And he’s dragging a thumb down your untouched lips.
You cover your face with the back of your hand, and he’s gently tugging it away, pressing a kiss to your wrist, your pulse jumping underneath, “I want more,” and fuck if he wasn’t at full mast from the kissing, he was now at your words, “I want you to…kiss me and…touch me,” you mumble, eyes averted, but he’s smiling all the same — you were so cute.
“Where can I touch?” he asks softly, his nose brushing yours, “need you to tell me. I don’t want to rush—“
And your lips crash against his, your fingers finding the back of his neck, threading in his pink locks. He’s pausing a moment before he melts into your kiss, and you’re taking the lead, as you lean further into the kiss, your fingers sliding down from his shoulder to his chest. His tongue flicks against the seam of your lips and you part for him.
“I want you to touch me,” you murmur as you break the kiss, panting, strings of your spit still connecting your lips, your breathy words nearly enough for him to lose all control, “I’ll tell you if I don’t like it,”
And he’s more than happy to oblige, his lips find yours in a bruising kiss, his hand toys with the hem of your shirt as permission, and you part from the kiss to nod. His hand slides up your soft flesh, pushing up your shirt along with it — finding your lacy bra underneath. He’s tugging the shirt up and over your head with your help, and god—
He has to stop himself from cumming right then and there at the sight of you. His fingers reach out, toying with the strap of your bra, “Did you wear this for me?” And you biting your bottom lip was all the answer he needed.
“Yu—“ he’s tweaking your hardened bud through the fabric, “ah, fuck—“ and he leans down to suck the other side through your bra, while sliding down your bra strap.
“Need to taste you,” and you’re nodding, while he’s reaching around to brush against the clasp of your bra to undo it, and his cock twitches at the sight of your bare skin — you’re so fucking pretty.
He always thought you were pretty — when you were kids drenched from running around in the rain, when you were just waking up from a nap with your hair askew and dried drool in the corner of your mouth, when your eyes were wide with excitement and nearly jumping up and down to tell him good news; and when you’re smiling—especially when you’re smiling.
It was his favorite thing.
“Don’t stare so much,” you’re trying cover yourself, but his hands catch yours, easing them off, “It’s embarrassing—“
“You’re perfect,” and your lips part but no words come, but you can’t meet his gaze, “you are—“
“You’re just saying that—“ and his fingers pinch your nipple drawing a gasp from your lips, while he leans down and takes the other in his mouth. His eyes find yours, blown into deep, dark pools by his lust — ones you’d be more than willing to drown in.
“I’d never just say that, especially to you, baby,” and you’re about to make a smart remark about him calling you ‘baby.’ But you forget every word you ever learned when his fingers start to drag down your stomach, fingers playing with the button of your jeans, “can I?”
And you nod, your back arching ever so slightly as his lips press a sweet kiss to your bellybutton. He’s kissing down your soft legs as he tugs down your jeans — one to your thigh, another to your knee, and another to your ankle —before he’s kissing up the other.
“How’s that feel?” he murmurs, eyes flitting up to meet yours, and fuck, your lips parted and swollen a pretty red, eyes half lidded with want, and — as his eyes fall between your thighs — a growing wet spot on your panties.
His fingers toy with the elastic, snapping it lightly against your skin, a slight flinch only, as his eyes gaze at your clothed cunt with near reverence. He looks for permission, before he leans in to press a kiss to your swollen clit, a small yelp escaping your mouth.
“Yuji,” you whine, lifting your head to meet his gaze again, “please,”
“Say my name again, please,” he’s kissing your thigh gently, and it feels as if you’ll crumble under his touch any second, wither away in a figment of his imagination, and he won’t ever get the chance to hear you like this again, much less touch you. He was selfish to take advantage like this — and he knew he was — but he couldn’t leave it like this.
“Yuji, just touch me—“ and your head falls back as his fingers graze your clit through your nearly translucent underwear, “ngh, you fucker—“ and he’s chuckling, as he tugs your panties away.
“Wanted to keep them on since you looked so good, but,” and he’s pocketing them with a grin, “I’ll just keep them instead,” your dripping walls twitch at the thought, “s’good for me. What do you want, my fingers or my tongue?”
“Fuck, I don’t know, just touch—“ and your head lolls against the pillow as his tongue drags up flat up the length of your weeping pussy.
“You’re so sweet — I could live here,” he murmurs, as his fingers spread your slick folds, a pretty moan falling from your lips as he does, “can’t wait to feel you cum around my fingers,” he’s easing a finger in — and you’re so tight, you’re tensing as he tries to part your walls, “relax, ok? I’ll be gentle. Don’t worry. I won’t ever hurt you,” his eyes meet yours and you’re nodding, as he pulls his finger away, a shiver at the empty ache, but it falls away into another moan as his tongue replaces it.
The wet squelch of your folds is enough for him to cum right there — you smell as sweet as you taste, as he kisses your clit, before dragging the length of his tongue over your sopping slit again, “Yuji—fuck—“ your fingers find purchase in his pink locks right when he decides to sink a finger inside you again.
“That’s it,” he grunts, as he works his finger knuckle deep into you, “so good f’me, so tight,” he’s murmuring, and your syrupy walls wrapped around his finger makes him wonder how good it will feel when his cock is inside you. He’s palming his erection through his pants, desperate for any kind of fucking friction, “g’nna add another,”
And you’re nodding, “please, I—“ and a second finger joins the first, and the lewd noises grow louder from your slick and his fingers begin to pump faster — teasing and stretching your walls as they begin to flutter around you, “Yuji, Yuji—“ his name leaves your lips like a prayer, but he’s the one who would worship at your feet, if you’d let him, your moans and whimpers were all he needed to survive, and he’d give his very soul if it meant he could be at your side.
His fingers are fucking you open, the tips of his fingers brushing against the spot that his your mouth falling open in a silent moan, “that’s it, cum for me, pretty girl,” and pleasure rips up your spine, as you cum all over his fingers, thighs shaking as you do. He fucks you slowly through your orgasm, helping you ride it out, until he’s slowing, leaning up to prsss sweet kisses to your face.
“I’m going to pull them out slowly,” he murmurs, your eyes still fluttered shut, but they slowly open to watch him ease his fingers from you. Soft pants leave your lips as you watch him with lidded eyes lick his fingers sticky with your release clean.
“Are you okay?” He’s murmuring, as he moves up to lean over your face, and you’re nodding, “let me clean you up and we can sleep, ok?” he’s moving to get off the bed, but you grab his hand, and he tilts his head.
“What about you?” You mumble, frowning, eyes flickering to the tent in his pants with a shy gaze, “I want to—“
“It’s okay, let’s just take it easy today,” he’s smiling, fingers finding yours and squeezing, pressing his lips to your knuckles, “you look like you’re about to pass out,” and you’re pouting all the same, but you seem to relent as the exhaustion sets in once again at your words, “I’ll be right back,” and he retreats to his bathroom to wet a washcloth, only to come back to you fast asleep.
He chuckles at the sight of you sprawled out on his bed — a sight not uncommon to him on nights you spent over, but never like this before. He leans on the bed carefully, mattress creaking ever so slightly under his weight, as he begins to clean you gently — and luckily, you don’t wake by the time he’s done. He can’t put your jeans or underwear on so he opts to grab a pair of his freshly washed shorts and slides them on you. He adjusts the blanket, draping it over you, running his fingers through your hair to tuck it behind your ear, and the back of his knuckles over your cheek.
“Yuji,” you mumble in your sleep, and he bites his lip — as he returns to his bathroom, softly shutting the bedroom door and the bathroom door behind him, a glaring problem to deal with, as he is still nearly waddling at this point from the grazing of his boxers against his aching erection.
He undoes his jeans quickly, eyes fluttering as he pushes both down and strips his shirt off before slipping into the shower. The squeak of the shower faucet and the water running hopefully don’t wake you — but more importantly, he hopes his moans don’t.
His dick was rock hard and aching still — there were so many times he nearly came in his pants, and by how drenched his boxers were — maybe he had. But fuck, you were so gorgeous, laid back and spread out for him.
His fingers grazed his weeping cock, smearing the precum up and down his length, thumb tracing his slit, as you would. He could see you thumbing his head experimentally, as your eyes flickered up at him, doe eyes, yet glazed over with lust. It wouldn’t be long until you’re slowly pumping him, as he does now — from base to tip, teasing his balls all the same. You’d flick your tongue over the tip, sucking at the dripping precum — wrinkle your nose at the salty taste, but you’d suck at his tip all the same.
He’d look down at you as your hand switches to toying with his balls, as you let his cock slap against your tongue, before letting his length slip past your lips. Your lips would feel so much softer than his hand does right now, jerking himself off, your plush lips and tongue wrapped around his dick. A low groan escapes his lips, as he covers his mouth, hoping you couldn’t hear him over the running water. The squelch of his precum and his soft moans would only make him want to repay the favor, making you cum over and over, until you were begging him to stop.
Fuck, he was close, by the way his cock twitched in his hand — where would he cum with you? He’d cum anywhere you wanted — but to cum on your face or chest, the image made him shudder. Your tongue would flick out to clean up some of the cum, and—
Fuck, he moans your name, as he cums all over his fingers, his release sprayed against the tile of his shower, dripping down and mixing with the water. He’s panting, as he cleans his hand off in the shower, leaning his head back.
What has he gotten himself into? Was it right for him to do this? You didn’t know how he felt — and he didn’t know if you would ever feel the same. But as he got dressed and crawled into bed beside you, keeping his distance as you slept, he felt you move closer, mumbling his name as you did. He couldn’t help but softly smile, running his fingers through his hair—it didn’t matter if you never ended up loving him, as long as you knew what you deserved—to be with someone who loved you, as much or even more than he did.
He let himself drift off, a loose arm thrown over your middle—he’d let himself have this, if only for now.
“Oh come on, you couldn’t get the ad free version, Fushiguro?” Nobara complains as yet another commercial comes on, as she glares at the black haired vet student, who sat on the floor after she stole his armchair.
He only shrugs, bearing little to no reaction, “If you’re going to complain, then why don’t you pay for it?”
Nobara and him begin to bicker ever so slightly, and Yuji chuckles in your ear, “are they more fun to watch then the show?”
The four of you were at your apartment, watching a new season of a TV show you all had started last year. You were sat next to Yuji on the couch, your bodies nearly pressed against each other as you shared the blanket, a little cold from the rain outside.
“They’re always more entertaining than the show, that’s why we agree to this,” you whisper back, the proximity of your bodies making your cheeks burn. You turn away, hoping he can’t feel or even hear the way your heart was beating down your ribs to burst free. Every time he shifted even slightly, you felt your body react — so conscious of even a twitch of his fingers — you wanted to bury yourself under the blanket.
It had been like this since that night.
You had woken up to him asleep beside you. Your eyes fluttered open as consciousness slowly crept into focus, sunlight filtering into sight, a small groan leaving your lips. And it wasn’t until you tried to reach for your phone you realized the thing beside you wasn’t a pillow but a person.
Your eyes flew open and you found Yuji still sound asleep beside you. It wasn’t unusual for the two of you to sleep on the same bed — especially after a late night where one or the other didn’t want to go home — but it was different to wake up entangled with him, especially after the events of the night before came flooding back.
And after that, each time you had been around him, you had become more and more conscious of his touch, nervous even, at the simplest of brushes of his fingers. And this? His body pressed against yours, his fingers grazing your thigh nearly, and his soft breath against your ear — god, you were going to lose it.
“You ok?” he murmurs a half an hour later, and the question itself makes you squirm — because no, your hot best friend was pressed against you and making you want to do nothing more than kiss him—
Wait, wait, hot? Your mind stutters at your own thoughts, lagging to comprehend yourself — hot? You wanted to kiss him? You always knew Yuji was hot, he was objectively — especially based on how many of your friends had wanted you to hook them up with him — but you had never thought of him that way. Maybe in passing — but to you, that was the one line you could never cross, especially when you had seen so many friendships fall apart because of a relationship.
You never wanted to risk Yuji like that.
But then here you were — blurring that line you said you never cross — and letting the ground split underneath the two of you.
“I’m fine,” you mumble back — and yet here he was, seemingly unfazed by your proximity and as the minutes ticked by, it began to eat away at you. Did he not find it as meaningful as you did? Did he not feel as good as you? Do you need to touch him just to make him feel just as heartsick as you were?
And now you know what you wanted to do.
As the show went on, Nobara and Fushiguro fell asleep — Fushiguro asleep with a cushion he had stolen from Nobara’s armchair and Nobara curled up in said armchair, passed out.
“Should we stop the show and go to bed?” Yuji asks you, albeit innocently — but there was anything but innocent intentions in your mind when you shake your head, a smile on your lips.
“Let’s keep watching,” your fingers grazes his thigh, as you lean over, lips nearly brushing against his ear, “it’s just getting interesting, right?”
And his breath hitches, “what’re you—“ and your fingers inches higher, grazing over his already tenting erection, a hiss escapes his lips, as he’s covering his mouth.
“Shh, don’t wake them,” and your fingers are ghosting and teasing over his cock, the precum already starting to seep through the fabric, as he shifts under your touch. Your thumb flicks over his head, now fully hard, “so big already,” you mumble, and now your lips press sweet kisses to his neck, finding small cuts and bruises from his practices, and a gasp escaped his lips.
“We shouldn’t be doing this—“ and your lips find his, and he melts so easily into your touch, your fingers toy with the elastic of his shorts, his eyes flickering to the two sleeping. He’s pulling away for a breath, lips utterly ruined — his fingers running through his hair, “please—“ and your lips curl.
Your fingers finally brush against his leaking cock, and his head falls back, his cheeks flushed a pretty pink, lips parted as soft pants left his lips. And you’re nearly shivering yourself at his want — seeping into your own body, as his pants and moans send a wave of heat between your thighs.
You rub your thighs together, as you shift even closer somehow, “Gotta be quiet Yu — they can hear us after all,” you murmur, right as your thumb swipes over his slit, a yelp caught in his throat, as his hand flies back to lips, “good boy,” and his dick twitches at the praise, as your finger begins to trace along his veins, “so big, how am I going to fit you inside?” you murmur, biting back a smirk when a muffled groan reaches your ears.
Your fingers finally curl around his length, you never thought a cock to be pretty — but Yuji’s was. You stared at it under the covers, flushed a lovely red, too dripping pearly beads of precum, and the slight curve it had to it — made the ache in your cunt only grow.
“Please, baby, I need, please—“ he’s whining, “I need you—“
And you oblige him, your hand beginning to spread the pre along his length, beginning to stroke him slowly from base to tip. He’s biting his lip, hard, nearly drawing blood as he chooses to bury his face in the crook of your neck, if only to muffle any moans that fell from his lips.
“S’good for me, Yu, wanna make you feel as good as I did,” his moan vibrates against your skin, cock twitching in your fingers, “gonna move faster, don’t want our friends to see you like this, do you? You have to be quiet,” and god, why did only seem to get harder at your words?
Your fingers begin to jerk him off in earnest, the wet squelch of his cock nearly not hidden enough by the volume of the TV, but nearly don’t care at this point — you just want him to fall apart under your touch, need him to.
And oh, he’s so close. His groans are more frequent, his hips jerking against your fist, and when your other hand finds his balls, squeezing — it’s too much.
He moans softly, “I’m—“ and that’s all he manages before he spills on your fingers — warm, white spurts splatter against your palm and the blanket, dripping, as he falls back, limp against the sofa. His cock softened in your hand, as you pull it away, before gently wiping him clean with the already drenched blanket.
He’s panting and fucked out, eyes half lidded as his chest rises and falls, watching you lick your fingers clear of his release, gaze never leaving his.
“Didn’t know you’d taste this good—“ you barely can manage, before he’s leaning forward to kiss you. Your fingers slide against his cheek to cup it, feeling his hand tangle itself in your hair, “Yuji—“
“What was that about?” he murmurs, “not that I’m complaining but—“ but then Megumi starts to move and you both freeze, your breath catching, until Megumi seemingly falls back asleep, “we should head to bed, but—“
He looks at the blanket, and the mess you made of him and the couch alike.
“The blanket I’ll toss in the washer, the cushion I’ll clean up and just turn over—“ and you smile, “and you take a shower before bed,”
His brow still knits together, “but we haven’t—“
“We’ll talk later,” and when later came, Yuji found you fast asleep in bed, with more questions than answers. But he supposed, as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his answers could come later.
How long has it been?
You stared at your phone — as if you could will it to receive the message you’ve been waiting for. As if it would grant your one and only wish for a text or a call — but it didn’t. Instead, it only gave you a spam call and a text to let you know you had a discount code for your favorite takeout place.
Great.
It had been a week since you had heard from Yuji — and a week since that night. You had woken up to the other three gone — gone off to their own apartments after you had slept in and texts on your phone from them in the groupchat. It was a few days before break — before you and Yuji would be heading back home for a few days together. But you hadn’t seen him at all since — not a chance to talk, much less seeing him.
Was he upset? Was he done with this? Was his promise to stay empty in the end? Was it your fault — for pushing it, for agreeing to it, and for falling for it all the same? Falling for it or — your eyes trace the screen of your phone as if it’s his cheek — or falling for him.
No, you rake your fingers through your hair, no, you didn’t love him — not like that. Not the way you shouldn’t, the way you had sworn yourself never to — but maybe all promises between friends were empty, when they were made like this.
But you weren’t made to let this break apart.
You found yourself at his door after classes, knocking at his door of his apartment. The door opens, and you find Yuji rubbing his eyes, hair askew, and shoulders drooped.
“Hey,” he yawned, he’s still shaking off the shackles of sleep, “sorry, what’s up?”
“Are you okay?” Your furrow your brow, your eyes spot the dark bags under his eyes, large enough to nearly engulf his eyes all together, “you look like you haven’t slept in days,” he steps aside to let you in, you glance around, his apartment wasn’t usually the cleanest — but it wasn’t a wreck like it was now. Clothes scattered, unwashed dishes stacked up, and papers strewn about.
“I just haven’t…been sleeping—“ and then you remember.
It wasn’t about you. It was about him. And you were so wrapped up in yourself, you weren’t thinking about him.
“Yuji, you’re having those nightmares again, aren’t you?” You murmur softly, and the way his gaze falls to the ground tells you everything you need to know, “alright, go lay down,”
“What?” he’s blinking, but your hand already finds his as you take him to his bedroom, “what are you—“
“You lay down. I’m going to make you dinner, and then you’re going to sleep,” and he sits on the bed reluctantly, fingers against his knees, as he bit his lip.
“I can’t sleep, I told you—“ you cup his cheek, and guide his gaze to yours.
“Remember what we’d do when you couldn’t sleep after the accident?”
“This feels ridiculous,” Yuji murmurs into your chest, his head buried there, while your fingers run softly through his pink locks, “we’re not six anymore—“
“So what? Doesn’t mean we can’t do this still,” you say, as your fingers pause, “unless you don’t want me to,”
“I didn’t say that,” he mumbles, and you can hear the blush in his voice that undoubtedly painted his cheeks, “I just meant it feels like I’m bothering—“
“Yu, don’t make me pinch you,” you murmur, rubbing his head, “you’re never a bother,” you kiss his head softly without thinking, and soon your cheeks are burning too, “sorry I didn’t—“
“Why are you sorry?” He chuckles, “we’ve done a lot more than kiss recently,” and he adds, “especially you,”
You bite your lip, glad he couldn’t see your face like this, “I thought that’s why you weren’t talking to me, I thought you didn’t like what I did…on the couch, you know—“
“I know,” he chuckles this time, “and how could I not like that?” And you swallow the lump in your throat, as the two of you fall into a comfortable silence that you choose to breach.
“You haven’t had these nightmares in a while,” you murmur quietly, before you add, “we don’t have to talk—“
“I know, but it happens from time to time, especially this month,” and your brow furrows, “don’t wrinkle your forehead at me,” and you lean back to gape at him, a smile pulling at his lips, “you always do that when you find out I’m keeping something from you,”
He moves ever so slightly away, turning to look at the ceiling, “Well I think I have a right because this is a pretty big thing to keep from me, Yu,” you pout, and your fingers begin to absentmindedly trace his jaw, his eyes fluttering shut — you always treated him so gently, like that something that could shatter, but he knew you would always be there to put him back together. Because you did that once already. Over a decade ago, “why didn’t you tell me?”
Because he didn’t want to worry you. Because he didn’t want you to think of him still as that broken kid you watched after when he had his world fall apart.
Because he didn’t want you to take that burden — he wanted to handle it himself.
“I didn’t want to bother you—“
“It’s never a bother when it’s you,” and his voice catches in his throat — fuck, how did you always know just what to say?
He takes a breath, “it’s just the same dream. Of the crash,” he could see something so clearly that he never experienced. He was at home with you when the crash happened — a play date Yuji had insisted on when he had cried and begged his parents to stay with you instead of going to dinner with them. They had relented — and that was the thing that left him alone.
It was lucky that his grandfather was able to take him in, and stay close by — so he still got to go to school with you.
“Let’s try to sleep, ok?” You murmur, “you’ll feel better when you sleep,” you cup his cheek, and he’s biting his lip, “what is it?”
“What if I see it again?” He whispers, as if he’s afraid that his words were any louder he would speak it into existence.
“Come here,” you say softly, your fingers gently guide his head to face you, “I’ll keep you safe, I promise,” A sigh leaves his lips as he moves closer, letting you engulf him in your arms, his eyes shutting, and letting himself relax for a moment — the first moment in far too many days.
When he let himself slip into sleep’s embrace—it was the first night he didn’t dream of the crash — he dreamt of you.
And when he woke in your arms in the morning, your soft lips parted as you slept, sunlight dappled on your skin through his window, and the way your fingers held onto the fabric of his shirt — he knew, he knew he had to tell you how he felt.
He needed to end this — his fingers brushing a strand of hair behind your ear — if only to begin something new.
You had to end it — it hadn’t sunk in until the car drove back home. The quiet morning drive left you both in a comfortable silence, the quiet white noise of his playlist, along with Yuji’s terrible singalongs and your bickering over his music choice. And you found yourself more than once staring at him as he drove, to the point where he had caught you looking.
“What?” He tilts his head when the light turned red, fingers drumming on the steering, the other poking your side.
“Nothing,” and you’re playfully slapping his hand away, a smile on your lips — same smile you always had with him. Always—because he’s your best friend. But he was so much more than that.
You were in love.
The two of you had returned to the place where you had laid your roots to rest and let your seed scatter to the wind. Only to return as a different flower altogether — but you knew, you couldn’t let it go on.
It had become painfully clear that morning, you had woken first, the sun had not peaked over the horizon yet, and you found Yuji fast asleep — breaths even and face relaxed. You knew his parents had scarred him deeply — he spoke of them often, but not at all at — he mentioned their presence, but never his own feelings. You knew he had a habit of putting others above himself — but you had missed this — all of this week, you could have been there for him, but you were caught up in your own thoughts and you had made it all about yourself.
And he deserved more than that.
He deserved more than you.
And you couldn’t risk losing him — lose him in a stupid argument or a disagreement and then never be able to comfort him again? Never be able to be by his side? You couldn’t bear to even fathom that.
“Nanamin was asking about you,” Yuji says as the two of you walk home from the local convenience store — a late night run that produced a familiar bag of treats the two of you always shared when you came back home.
“Oh really? Are classes over for high school already?” The English literature teacher had taken Yuji in for his last year and half of high school after his grandfather passed, and Yuji always stayed with him on breaks.
“He asked if you were going to come with us to see my parents tomorrow morning,” it was a tradition to go visit Yuji’s parents graves each year around this time — you always paid your respects whenever you could, “he also said you’re free to stay over, but you have to sleep in a different bedroom,” you snort, “he said and I quote ‘we are past the age of sharing a room,’” You laugh, cheeks burning as you shake your head, “he’s not exactly wrong though,” his fingers graze yours, and there’s nothing more you want than to take his hand, but you know one way or another, you’d drop it in the end. Wouldn’t it be better now? When there isn’t far to fall?
So you do, letting your hand fall away from his.
“I’d be happy to see your parents, but I don’t know if staying over is a good idea—“ and he’s shaking his head with a chuckle in his throat.
“Don’t worry, I won’t do anything you don’t want to—“
“We should stop, Yuji,” and his smile slips off his face as if it was slapped off, he blinks, shock settling into confusion.
“Why?” Only one word and it manages to break you all the same.
“We just shouldn’t. This was supposed to be about teaching me, but i think I’ve learned enough,” you’re turning away, but his fingers are gently finding your wrist, “Yuji—“
“You don’t think I can’t tell when you’re lying?” Yuji asks, and your glass-like facade shatters so easily — why does it always have to break so readily when it comes to him?
But you pull away all the same, “I can’t do this anymore. Not like this. I don’t want to. I can’t lose you—“
“You won’t lose me—“ but you’re already walking off, sparing a glance back.
“I’ll see you tomorrow morning when we leave, Yuji,” and he’s opening his mouth to call out, but he stops himself, watching you disappear up the street.
What just happened?
The car ride to the cemetery is notably silent. Yuji’s eyes burned when he woke, head aching from the circles he ran around in last night, trying to figure out what happened. Nanami drives in the quiet, his eyes noting when Yuji chooses to sit passenger instead of beside you, only with one glance that’s averted after Yuji refuses to meet it.
Yuji didn’t know what to make of what you said. After everything, he thought maybe — just maybe, you felt the same as he did. He thought he could tell you tomorrow, tell you when the two of you were alone — and even if it didn’t work out, it would be okay.
But now — as his eyes stole a look at you in the rear view mirror, he wondered if it ever would be okay again.
You left the car a moment to go use the bathroom when they stopped to fill gas in the car, and that’s when Nanami speaks.
“So did you finally ask her out and she said no?” And Yuji’s head snaps to his, but Nanami only stares back, “you aren’t hard to read, Itadori. You’ve liked her for a long time,”
Yuji scratches the back of his head, “I did something, kinda stupid,” and Nanami tilts his head, “really stupid, ok? And I was going to tell her how I felt, but she broke off what we were doing—“
“You weren’t dating?” Yuji’s cheeks burn as he waves off his teacher.
“That’s not important! But what do I do, Nanamin?” the blond haired teacher raised an eyebrow.
“It’s not hard to know what to do, Itadori. It’s what you should have done. Tell her how you feel,” and then you’re walking back to the car, “come on, let’s get back. We’re close now.”
And your gaze avoids his own when Yuji watches you get back in the car, and his lips part as if to stop you — but he doesn’t.
Not yet.
You stood with Yuji as he tended to his parents’ graves. Simple stones that he was able to put in with time from his part time jobs, ones he had insisted he would pay for himself — refusing any help from anyone, even you. You knelt down, helping him clear the strewn dead leaves, brushing away dirt and snow — your fingers brushing when you both reach for the same place.
And your eyes meet, as both of your fingers intertwine slowly — the three of you pay your respects, and Nanami finally stands.
“I’ll wait for you two at the car,” Nanami says with a nod, leaving the two of you alone. You both already had placed offerings at their graves, arranging them slowly, as the two of you stand, the silence of the cemetery hanging overhead — light streaming in between clouds in the overcast sky, the sounds of the wind rustling the trees the only thing in the quiet.
“Thank you for coming,” Yuji says softly, and your blink, eyes sliding to his.
“You never have to thank me for that, Yuji,” you squeeze his hand, “as long as you want me to come, I’ll always be here. And I’ll always pay my respects to your parents, regardless of that,” you say, and that's exactly why you had to stop with him. You couldn’t bear to lose him — lose this, not when he’s lost too much and he was too much for you to lose, “come on, we should get back to the car,” as you pull your hand away from his.
And maybe things could get back to normal.
“I know,” and he doesn’t move as you turn to leave, “and that’s why I love you,”
And you smile, “I love you too—“
“I don’t mean it like that,” and you freeze a moment, his words barely processing before he continues to speak, “I mean I do love you in that way too — but that’s not how I meant it now,” he says, as you turn to face him — not finding a hint of humor on his expression.
“Yuji—“ your brain can barely process your best friend confessing to you — much less next to his parents’ graves— “should we be having this conversation—“
“It’s the perfect place to have this conversation,” he glances around at all of the graves, and he’s shaking his head, “maybe not the perfect place, but—“ his gaze softens when he finds yours, “you saved me,”
“Yuji—“
“No, you did. After my parents died,” he stares at the stones side by side — “I could barely function. I barely wanted to do anything but sleep — but you, you pulled me out of bed. You made me go places. You made me smile again,” he says, “but that’s not the reason I fell in love with you,” his lips curl into a soft smile, “it’s because it’s you — your smile, your laugh, your being — it reminded me of happiness existed, and then I realized you were the only person who could make me happy the way you do,”
“Yuji—“
“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same. But I don’t want to lose you, lose this chance to tell you how I feel, to tell you—“
“Yuji—“
“And I’ve always loved you — there’s never been—“ and you’re hugging him, before you even know you are, your arms are around his middle, face buried in his chest, as he murmurs your name.
“The only reason I broke it off was,” your voice wavers despite your efforts to force it to stay even, “I didn’t to lose you by not being good enough—“
“You just have to be you,” his brow furrowed into the same valleys he teased you for, “you’re all I need,” his hand finds your cheek, guiding your gaze to his, “how could you think you weren’t enough?”
“You don’t tell how you feel sometimes — you don’t tell me what you’re thinking, I didn’t even know you had nightmares—“ you break off, “what if we continued this and you realized you deserved better than me? And it was already too late for me because I love—“ you break off.
“You what?” he asks, and you’re biting your lip, “I’ll say it again if it will make you—“
Fuck it.
You lean up and press your lips to his, swallowing his words as your hand finds purchase on his shoulder. And it felt right. As it always did with Yuji.
“I love you too,” you whisper against his lips, “I love you, in the same way you do,”
“As a friend?” And your brow furrows, “kidding! Kidding—ow!” You’re smacking him playfully, before he catches both of your wrists and pulls you close, “does that mean I can call you mine?”
“Or baby,” and he flushes, a cute pout on his lips, “what? Isn’t it—“ and he’s kissing you again, your heart leaping as he does, his hands sliding around your hips, “Yu-“
“And what’s my pet name? You still haven’t given me one—“
“Have some decorum,” a voice cuts through, and the two of you jump apart, as Nanami stands, glaring at the two of you, “come on, if you’re done paying your respects, then we should go home,” he sighs, rubbing his temples, “the dead shouldn’t have to put up with this.”
Yuji’s cheeks are tomato red at this point — as he covers his face— but you only chuckle, your fingers intertwining with his, squeezing, “c’mon let’s go, and maybe I can give you a pet name when we get home,” and you both turn to face his parents, as you pay your respects and head down the path a little.
Yuji faces his parents, kneeling down to say goodbye again — and he remembers how it was their idea to set up Yuji to have a playdate with you, all those years ago. And now, here you were — the most important person in his life.
“Thank you for everything you did for me,” and he glances at you over his shoulder as he gets up, “especially for helping me find her.”
“Yu-ji—“ you gasp, as he’s tugging you into your bedroom, bumping himself carelessly into the wall as he guides you both to your bedroom. You giggle as he presses you against the wall outside your room, “I text you my parents are going out for dinner and this is how you greet me? What happened to hello—“
His lips crash against yours and you forget about ‘hello’ and just about every other word in your head. Your lips curl against his lips, as his body cages you against the wall. It had been a few days since you and Yuji had been able to have a moment alone—Nanami was watching you both cautiously, while your parents had been keeping you busy at home, seeing family or cleaning up around the house. And Yuji was growing increasingly desperate for some time with you — that wasn’t hidden brushes of fingers under the table or stolen kisses out of sight from family or friends.
“I missed you so much, baby,” he’s murmuring — and you didn’t know it was so possible to look like a kicked puppy so much until you met Yuji, “can’t believe Nanami was so mean and kept making us keep the door open—“
“It didn’t help that he walked in us making out on your bed three times—“ and a moan escapes your lips as he kisses your neck, teeth grazing against your racing pulse, “fuck, Yu—“
“How do you always taste so good?” he mumbles against you as he leads you inside your bedroom and shuts the door. His eyes glance around your childhood room, as he takes in the childhood posters plastered on the walls, the untouched books, the stuffed animals from a millennium ago that still lined your bed.
“My family has not changed much here for years,” your cheeks burn, as he only chuckles, walking you backwards into your bed, and you climb into the bed, only grabbing a stuffed animal from behind you, “remember this?”
He snorts, as he takes the stuffed penguin from your hands, “How could I forget? I tried a million times to win this,”
You tilt your head, “You said you won it your first try—“ and you gasp as he looks away, cheeks flushed, “you were trying to impress me,”
“Not that much,” and you’re leaning closer, brushing your lips against his, “maybe just a little,” you kiss him more insistently this time, sliding against his, fingers curling in his soft strands, “maybe too much,” and you smirk, noses bumping as your lips find each other’s again and again.
And your fingers slide down to drag his shirt up and over, freeing his chest and abs to your sight — and what a sight it is. So toned and tanned from his American football practices in the sun — perfect for your fingers and lips to explore the peaks and valleys of his body, hands already far too eager.
He returns the favor by lifting your own shirt off in an instant, groaning when he finds you wearing nothing underneath — your eyes can’t help but flit down and find his erection already tenting in his sweatpants.
“Fuck, baby, you’re so perfect,” his eager hands are already teasing and palming you breasts, a whimper drawn out by his precise pinches and touches, “so good for me,” and your hands drag down his chest, leaning down to press kisses to his chest as your fingers trace along his abs, making him groan.
He’s pouting, after he pulls you into another kiss, “it’s not fair,” he mumbles into the side of your neck, “I feel like I’m always the one who’s more nervous than you are,”
You chuckle, kissing his jaw, “I felt the same way, why do you think I touched you on our TV marathon that night?”
And he’s blinking, as you lay back on the bed for him, “you didn’t know—“ you shake your head.
“You had offered to help get experience, and even when we had done things, you were just so…normal,” he chuckles, before laying beside you.
“I had some practice acting normal around you, but I really didn’t. I think you nearly gave me a heart attack that night,” and you grin, drawing so close that you even feel the hitch of his breath.
“That good, huh?” You tease, and it only takes a moment until he’s hovering over you, lust pooled in his gaze that lights a fire on your body wherever it lays.
And his lips meet yours right after he whispers, “I’ll show you good.”
“One more, baby,” Yuji tells you, but you barely hear it through the haze of pleasure and heat that fills the room, along with the sounds of the squelch of his fingers in your tight cunt, “just need one more,”
And how many times had he made you orgasm already? You’d lost count — five or six at least. The first had taken some time, working his finger into your weeping slit, the way your walls stretch around him make you wonder how good it will feel when he fucks you. It’s not long before he’s sinking another finger in, the sounds and feelings of his digits curling is enough to bring you to orgasm. And the rest are a blur — another finger in your tight entrance, fucking you open as he toyed with your walls, until you came again and again.
And now he bent down, lips around your clit, teasing and sucking at the sensitive bud, as your fingers curled in his pink locks as the lewd moans fell from your mouth with ease. You’re so close — so fucking close, and when his fingertips brush against that spot and it’s all too much.
You cum around his fingers and mouth, his name on your lips as you do, back arching against him, as he eases his fingers from your cunt. He licks his fingers clean as your eyes flutter open to meet his, “You taste so good, baby — you’re perfect,” and you watch as his tongue flicks out to clean his lips and chin of your sticky release.
And soon enough he’s kissing you, hand cupping your cheek, letting you taste yourself on his lips, as your fingers drag over his bare chest and follow his happy trail into the elastic of his boxers. A soft moan leaves his kiss ruined lips, as his eyes are lidded with lust, soft pants against your skin.
“Is this a dream?” Yuji murmurs, his lips ghosting along your jaw, “never thought we would get here,” and you turn your head to meet his lips in another sweet kiss.
“It isn’t, we’re here. Took us long enough,” your lips curl, your fingers tracing over his cheek, “and nowhere else I rather be — or no one else I rather be with,”
“You sure?” And you’ve flipped him over, kissing down his body, fingers tugging at the elastic of his boxers until his dick is freed from the fabric, “fuck, baby, you don’t have—“
And his words are cut off with a grunt as your fingers grazes his erection, teasing his weeping head. You start to pump up and down, working the thick beads of precum over his length, his head falling back.
“How’s your cock so pretty, Yu?” you coo, blowing air over his dick, making him twitch in your hand, “never thought one of these would ever be so pretty,” you let his length slap against your tongue, slowly dragging it down your
He hisses, hands grasping at the sheets, as you bend down to flick his tongue against the head of his cock. Your lips close around it, and suck, raising the back of his hand to cover his mouth, “fuck, s’good, baby, I—“
And you’re letting his cock sink past your lips, your tongue flicking against his slit. Your eyes find his own, as you hollow out your cheeks and sucking hard, and his hips buck into your mouth. His tip brushes against your throat, and you’re moaning around him, your fingers cup his balls, nails digging into your scalp.
“Baby, fuck, I’m close—where—“ and he’s trying to ease you off, but your hands only hold his hips in place. Your nose brushing against his pubes. And when you’re suck hard on his tip, toying with his sack, only for him to moan your name, before cumming down your throat, his hot release painting your insides.
You’re slowly pulling off his dick, a string of cum and spit connecting your lips to his cock, a smile on your face. You swallow his release, the salty taste still on your lips as you watch him pant, chest rising and falling.
“Taste so good, Yu,” you murmur, and you’re moving back up to kiss him, “think I’m addicted,” you murmur, as your lips find each other again and again.
“Now you know how I feel,” he smiles, fingers running through your hair, “been addicted to you for over a decade,” and he’s sitting up, guiding you into his lap slowly, “we can always stop right here, we don’t have—“
You kiss him softly, the way he deserved, the way you’ve wanted to for so long, “I want to, Yuji, I really want to,” your fingers intertwine with his, squeezing his hand, his arm slipping around your waist, “because I love you,”
And your fingers grasp his hardening cock, pressing it to your dripping slit, and god, he’s so fucking big. You knew how big he was, but just feeling him pressed against you makes you ache at how he’ll be stretching you out. He drags his dripping tip against your slit, letting your cum mix together, letting his head catch on your clit.
Finally, you’re sinking onto him, his thick length parting your walls, inch by inch. Your head falls back, as he leans into your touch, watching you flinch at the stretch, “you okay?” Yuji’s pressing sweet kisses to your lips and cheek, “should I stop—“
“No, no, I’m fine, it’s starting to feel good,” your arms wrapping around his neck, burying your face in the crook of his neck, “ and he’s helping you sink into him, until finally your hips are flush to his, “fuck, Yu—you’re so deep—“ his cock twitches against your walls, a shiver up his spine at your words.
And he’s panting, his lips pressed to your shoulder, “you feel s’good, baby — so wet and warm—“ you smile, cupping his cheek, “can’t believe this is real — can’t believe—“
“It’s real, Yuji, it’s real,” your lips curl into a smile, “I’m here, I love you,”
“I love you too, I love you so much,” he kisses you again and again, as he shifts slowly under you, swallowing a gasp that leaves your lips.
“Please, Yuji, move—“ and he obliges, beginning to fuck into you, and your head falls back, as his cock rocks into you, a moan falling from your lips as you do. He’s groaning your name again and again, a grunt when you begin to ride him in tandem, both of your thrusts sending him deeper into you.
“Baby, fuck, you’re perfect. You’re so good f’me,” his lips finding your neck, as his strokes become faster and deeper, the sounds of your skin slapping together rings in your ears as he fucks you harder and harder, “g’nna cum, s’close,“
“I’m close too,” you’re panting as his lips find yours in a sloppy, messy kiss that has you losing yourself more and more, as his thrusts become more and more swallow. And when he finds your clit between your bodies, rubbing as he finds that one spot that has you seeing stars, “Yuji- I’m—“
And you cum hard around him, soaking his cock and thighs as you do, walls squeezing him tight until he’s spilling his warm seed inside you. You slow as you do, legs quivering, as you nearly slump against him and he holds you impossibly closer. He helps you both detangle, easing his softening cock from inside you, a small groan as he sees your mixed releases leaking from you. He helps you lie back, as he wraps his arms around you, running his fingers through your hair.
“Are you okay?” he whispers, brow furrowed in slight worry as your eyes flutter open, lips curling as your fingers smooth the wrinkles of his forehead.
“I’d be better if you’d kiss me,” you whisper and he obliges, a soft kiss to your lips that leaves you warmer than you were before, “now I’m perfect,”
“You always were,” and you chuckle, rolling your eyes, before shaking your head, burying your face in the crook of his neck.
“No, that’s because I had an excellent teacher,” and he laughs, before he pulls you even closer, finding your lips in a kiss.
“And you always will.”
“Come on, Fushiguro, pay up,” Nobara holds out her hand, as Megumi glares, pulling out his wallet and plucking money from his wallet and handing it to her.
“You cheated,” he says as she snatches the money, counting it with a grin on her lips, “I don’t know what you did, but I know you did,”
“You never said we couldn’t give them advice,” she grins, as she pockets his money, “and all I did was give Yuji a nudge, he’s the one who fucked—“
“Alright,” Megumi rubs his temples, “I get it, but it’s still unfair — we’ve been waiting for them to get together all these years and all of sudden he gets the idea to become her friends with benefits—“ and Nobara only grins wider, “you didn’t—“
She shrugs, “you can wait around for two idiots to figure it out, or you can shove them off the deep end.”
“I knew you cheated,” Megumi grumbles, “that’s the last time I ever make a bet with you, Kugisaki,”
And she smirks, “Well now you’ve been taught a lesson too.”
✧ a/n: another celebration fic done! now just one more and then i can start preparing for the next follower celebration :). i've settled on using wips but i'll pick out a bunch of prompts for you all to request for certain ones. that way, you all have had a hand in them <3. thank you to laney for helping beta <3.
✧ taglist: @adrenova, @nakariabnrb, @skvllknight, @hanlay, @spider-fan72, @anonimusunnoaniswriting, @chososcamgirl, @thenezuko, @catsgomurp, @too-much-snow, @sashaiko, @forest-fruits-jam, @rita-ritarita, @anyaeuh, @dezznuggetsblog, @jayathelostdragon, @newspapergirlmal, @2livelaughlovefictionalmen2, @being-me-is-not-a-sin, @xoocii, @firelordazulaaaa, @cira273, @twosec0nd, @ororomunroro, @sunamatic, @withoutanameyet, @gojorgeous, @masctomboy805, @hantaslittlearsonist, @lemonpoppy-seed, @malmare, @teraine, @boopadoopa333, @jeyughh, @coffeebun17, @faeryli, @katienaps, @tojbitch, @fushitoru, @soulofoz, @yamaguccitadashi
#sab [mlist]#yuji itadori x reader#yuji itadori smut#yuji itadori fanfiction#yuji itadori fluff#yuji itadori x you#jjk smut#jjk fanfiction#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction#itadori yuji x reader#itadori yuji smut#itadori yuuji x reader#itadori yuuji fanfiction
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Incubus fyodor 1
Dom!priest!reader x sub!incubus!fyodor
Warning: pegging, CNC, against a wall, in a church lol, also taking virginity??
Sometimes I use strap, most of the time dick or whatever. Then anyone can feel included? Idk?
This was requested by 🍮 anon, like a loooong time ago. Gonna repost it now :> (was too lazy to do so but now that you are back-)
Fyodor was just wandering around, looking for his next victim. It was boring to keep staying at one place, he always craved something grandiose and better. One day he ended up at a church after going around town, he detested those places due to his nature. But then he saw you through the windows, a diligent priest working for god. Proud, hard working and kind. What a sight, you must have never known the pleasures of the flesh. Oh how he pitied you, guess he will just ‘enlighten’ you then~
The incubus was wandering inside the building, looking everywhere for you. Until he found you in the chancel, the sacred place. Perfect, let's see how sacred it will be after he defies god’s little helper. Protecting one’s innocence? How laughable.
Fyodor walked inside, wrapping his hands around you and holding you from behind. Hands running all over your torso, grinning in delight as he said, “come on, let's have a little fun~ I can fulfil all your fantasies...” before he could even react to it, you took hold of his hands, turning around and twisting them in the process. “aAHH-”he yelped, falling backwards and taking a few steps back, his body hitting the wall. Your hand pinning his wrists over his head, knee pressed against the wall in between his legs. He felt you apply pressure to his crotch.
The boy gritted his teeth, showing his fangs. "Are you a demon?" You asked nonchalantly, while he struggled against your strength. Fuck, why were you so strong? “Yea and? What, gonna exorcise me? Haha.” “An incubi probably, by the way you were touching me.” You came to that conclusion, not an ounce of emotion present in your voice.
Continuing on as if you didn't hear him, thinking for a second. “I suppose you wanted to feast on me?” He stared at you with a skeptical look, why did you seem so interested? Before he got the chance to ask you, you commented, “I'm sorry that you were born this way, having to rely on such sinful acts to survive.. what a pitiful being.” “What, oh no you are the pitiful thing here, I bet you don't know what pleasure is, all because of some prideful faith. Want me to teach you?” Fyodor said cheekily, grinning as he looked up at you, his knees bend slightly due to the position.
“Don't get me wrong, I don't detest your kind. God has taught us to accept anyone. In fact, i’d be willing to help you, so that you don't need to bother other innocent souls. It's the duty of a priest.” He didn't understand what you were hinting at, for him you were talking garbage. “You aren’t going to seal me or anything?” The demon was genuinely confused, you want to help him? Why? “No need to fear anything, I'm sure you have experience in this field after all.” Next thing he knew you turned him around, his back arching like a crescent moon. “What are you…” suddenly you pulled his pants down, exposing his plum butt. “Huh?! wha-" poor him, that incubus was super confused now, this can't be what he thinks it is right?
Seems like his worries came true, it was what he feared, he knew when he felt your tip press against him. “Hu-huh? Wait a second..! I-I thought you were...” “I've learned many ways to deal with succubus or incubus, don't worry I'm quite experienced too.” Then you entered him, yearning a surprised moan from the male. “Ahh..!” Fingers desperately gripping the wall, looking for anything he can clench onto, eyes looking back and trying to understand the situation. He was getting… topped? By a priest nonetheless??
Him? Up until now he has only ever been on top. What experience, this is his first! Fyodor felt another push from you, the strap slowly driving into him. “You are so tight... ah, what's your name?” “Why do you care, pull it out!” “I'm sorry, I can't do that.” “Why?!” “Because I have to subdue you first, to make you submit.” Your voice was serious as you said that, pushing more of your dick inside him. “UgHh! Slo-slow down...gentle, gentle! Ah, hu-hurts..” the boy whined now, crying softly as his dick twitched in excitement. “Oh? It is your first? Maybe you aren’t as dirty as I thought.” Still using the same emotionless voice as before, you kept unintentionally leave snarky remarks behind. All while your free hand collected the slick around his rim, covering the toy with it.
“So wet already, more than many others of your kind.” Were you mocking him? He wanted to insult you, if only the dick wasn't making his mind go blank. “Ahh...you, I won't-mhm! Fo-forgive you.” “I don't need your forgiveness, only gods.” You said, before starting to move and trust into him. Then you explained, “in order to excuse this sin I had to commit due to your existence, we will have to work hard to beg for forgiveness.” “AhHh! Ah-aHh.ah. Oh-uhh..uhm! Nghh..!” Each trust was paired with whimpers or a moan. Cute squeaking sounds escaped him, face and shoulders flushed red and figure covered in sweat now. His filthy fluids were running down those slim and shaky legs, eyes rolling into the back of his head. What was he doing, didn't he plan on fucking you at first? So how was he getting dicked down now. It was still too hard to comprehend. Yet it felt so good.. it was melting his brain, he has never felt anything this amazing before.
“Such inappropriate noises you are letting out, i guess you are enjoying yourself?” The hand which you used to collect his slick was now on his hips, holding him in place since he kept trying to wriggle his way out, trying to escape those blissful sensations. “Ah..wait..ah-Uhm! This is..no-no good..stop aHh!” He whispered, shortly after tears started rolling down his blushing face. You only picked up your pace, going faster and rutting into him roughly, sometimes you'd brush against his prostate which made him cry out even more. “Ah-aAhhH! OOHh! I'm c-close.. m’gonna cu-cum.” Fyodor breathed out, his entire being quivering in pleasure. This was heaven. Don’t get him wrong, he knew nothing of heaven but this is how he'd imagine paradise to be like. He was filled with pure ecstasy, it was damn addicting and he doesn't think he will ever get over it.
“You have to beg for forgiveness, and to excuse your pathetic self.” You whispered into his ear. Like a spell he couldn’t disobey, he immediately began pleading with.. whom? God? You? Ugh.. to think he had come this low. “AhhHhAA!! ohHh! For-forgive meHHnghh~..!!” His release came in torrents, coursing through his veins and making his legs go weak. He felt so helpless, so exposed and vulnerable with you. And it was the best feeling he has ever experienced, never in his life did he knew something like this was possible. Those noises were filled with desire and longing, loud and clear as he painted the wall white, “aAhHahhhH~!” A shudder ran down his spine, hole clenching down onto you.
The slick was all the way down to his knees now, and he was still lost in subspace. Guess the climax was pretty intense, rendering him to such a whiny mess. You weren't sure if he could understand you, but you tried it anyway. “So, may I inquire the name of you pitiful thing?” There were no answers, only breathy whines and pants. Eventually he gasped out his name meekly, mumbling, “fyo-fyodor…” After blinking a few times, you leaned down to his ear and uttered in a seductive, as well as sadistic voice. This was the first time he heard your tone change. “I'm going to keep you here, so that you wont cause troubles for others. You don’t mind being my pet fyodor, isn’t that right?” And you let go of him after finishing your sentence. Hands leaving his body. Ahh..another shiver travelled down to his core, how could he ever refuse such an enticing offer? Without your help, his legs finally betrayed his body as he crashed down onto the ground. Sitting there looking all ravaged while a sticky white puddle formed beneath him. Fyodor looked at you over his shoulder while panting heavily, tongue hanging out from his blushing face like a dumb little pet.
#sub character#sub!character#dom reader#dom!reader#sub bsd#sub bungou stray dogs#sub fyodor#fyodor dostoyevsky x reader#fyodor bungou stray dogs#fyodor bsd#fyodor#fyodor x reader#bsd fyodor#fyodor dostoyevsky bsd#bungou stray dogs fyodor#fyodor dostoevsky#fyodor x you#fyodor smut#fyodor x y/n#fyodor dostoyevsky smut#🍮 anon#incubus fyodor
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Tainted Past
Reader Description: he/they, masculine titles, early 20s.
Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Masculine!Reader
A/n: So this was inspired while I was playing around in Character.ai (I was being delulu as usual), so I guess shoutout to the creator of Mature!Wanda ai for kickstarting my brain again. I haven't write in a while guys pls be nice :')
Warnings: No warnings for now actually, maybe sadge Wanda, Wanda lowkey being bullied.
Summary: Years have passed since Westview and Wanda finally has the chance to settle down and live the normal she had always yearned for. However, that comes with a challenge as many were still wary of her. Along the way she met a young man in his early 20s, whom took pity on the witch despite all odds.
ᗢ----------ᗢ
It was a huge deal when rumors spread about the infamous Scarlet Witch moving into their town. The same witch that brought upon destructions and chaos, the one who enslaved a whole town. The one that the Dracula from Hotel Transylvania would describe as,
"-Nutsy Cuckoo!" Y/n snorted at their friend's description of the witch, "She's a total nutjob, I'm telling you. She went berserk for kids she DIDN'T even have."
"And afterwards went after a child, no, a literal CHILD!" Their other friend added, "Who happens to be America Chavez, who ended up teaming up with her as well. Hence why she's able to even live freely back into society."
"That's crazy..." Y/n said while shaking his head. The were all sitting their usual cafe, gossiping about their latest neighbor.
"I heard she lives across the street from you. Hey, at least she's a hot MILF right?" Their friend Magdalena joked, which made her receive a cookie thrown at her face.
"Shut up, Lena." She only snorted. As both of his friends were snickering, the two of them stopped and their eyes trailed something behind him.
"What?"
"Speak of the devil..." Victor said as he had a little bit of a disgusted look.
Y/n turned around, and there she was. The Scarlet Witch. She hasn't been seen on any media for the past few years, the last time she was seen, she had a long auburn hair, and was wearing her suit. The look she had right now was a striking contrast to her last appearance on the media.
She had cut her hair, it was now dyed blonde, and she was wearing a casual civilian clothes. Y/n felt shivers running down their spine as painful memories flooded his mind.
"She really wants to be normal, huh?" Victor said under his breath.
"I mean... she's kinda-" Victor elbowed Magdalena on her ribs before she could finish her sentence. Giving her a look that says 'don't'.
The whole cafe went silent when she entered the shop, she awkwardly said 'hi' before making her way to the queue. Everything else was a little bit of a blur for Y/n, as for some reason their heart started beating rapidly. Their fist clenched to the point his friend had to snap him out of his thoughts.
"I'm fine." Y/n responded with a faux smile before focusing his attention outside the window. He couldn't help but to focus on Wanda's voice when she ordered.
"I would like something to drink please." He heard Wanda speak, there was a beat of silence.
"Coffee? Tea?" The barista responded, soundingly uninterested and rude. Seems like the Barista wasn't a huge fan of Wanda, as normally the Barista was always so kind to Y/n and his friends.
"O-oh! Coffee, please." Another silence, "Cappucino, hot."
"That'll be $4.50." She could be heard rummaging through her purse and took out a some money to pay.
"I'm assuming you would need my name-"
"We know." The barista said rather coldly. Wanda could be heard clearing her throat nervously and waited for her order. It didn't take long before they called out, "Cappucino for Scarlet Witch."
Y/n glances at the bar, they noticed how tense she was upon hearing her title. The title she wishes everyone would forget. She gave a forced smile before turning and walking back to the exit. Seems like she was nervous, and then the worst possible thing could happen to someone happened to her...
Her purse got stuck on the door handle as she was about to walk out, causing her to spill her beverage. "Shit!" She cursed.
Y/n's two friends couldn't handle their snort upon seeing the tragedy. Wanda glances at them and awkwardly laughs, "Silly me." She says before hastily walking away from the shop.
"She is just adapting well to us mere mortals." Victor said sarcastically.
As much as Y/n wasn't exactly fond of the witch (for personal reasons), they did felt... a hint of sympathy towards her. He looked outside and saw her seemingly cursing at herself for the embarrassing encounter at the cafe.
Oh she's going to take a while to adapt...
ᗢ----------ᗢ
Y/n looked down at the notes their sister sent them and walked down the aisle to find the item. What seem to be a simple errand turned into a full blown grocery shopping, that bitch.
I just wanted to buy some ramen...
He picked up a bunch of items his sisters needed, and picked a pack of ramen for himself. While he was on the cereal section he heard that familiar voice again.
"Hi, ma'am, do you know where I could- O-oh, yes, that's alright have a good day!" He turns his attention to her direction, from the customers to the staff, they were all ignoring her existence. She visibly sighed and gave up on asking people. That's... what she deserves I guess.
He only saw her again as he was about to pay, they were queued just behind her. Crap.
"Sorry ma'am, we take cash only, the machine is broken at the moment." The cashier told her.
"I... I don't have any cash on me right now." She nervously laughs, "Are you sure? Because the customer before-"
"Look if you don't have cash you can pay with apple pay." Seems like the cashier just wanted to torment her, which she did as Wanda sighed in frustration.
"I don't- I don't have that set up on my phone yet." The cashier only shrugged their shoulders. "Fine. How much was-"
"$27.60" Wanda started rummaging through her purse again, desperately trying to find some cash left. She found... $5, ok that's a start. $10, ok we're getting there.
"Hey come on, lady! You're holding up the line!" The guy behind Y/n yelled, making Wanda panic slightly. Y/n closed his eyes, ugh fuckin-
They opened their eyes again, and Wanda was still hastily searching her bag as people got increasingly annoyed at her. They closed their eyes, agh Jesus fucking christ I better go to heaven for this-
"Ok, is there any-" Wanda's sentence was cut off when hand puts down a $50 dollar bill to pay for her checkout.
"You can just pay me back later." Wanda wanted to refuse, but she internally sighed in relief. The cashier gave Y/n the change and Wanda thanked them with the brightest smile. "Don't mention it." They said giving her a polite smile.
As Wanda walked out of the store, she took another glance at the young boy and smiled to herself. She made a mental note to find the youth later on.
ᗢ----------ᗢ
They didn't understand why they had to be so sympathetic to the psycho witch, especially after everything she had put them through. Everyone was doing just fine ignoring her presence, in fact, Y/n had the biggest right out of them all to ignore that crazy, wacko, mentally unstable-
"There you are!"
A familiar voice made Y/n whipped their head to the direction. Oh no... Don't tell me she thinks we're basically friends now. Wanda walked up to him with a smile, Y/n had a natural instinct to tense up. Just the sight of her, made him clenched his jaw.
"I just wanted to properly say thank you." She said, rubbing her hand nervously. She wore a simple red t-shirt, and jeans. Wanda looked like any normal civilian. If you had lived in a cave, unaware of the outside world, the idea that Wanda is capable of such chaos and destruction wouldn't cross your mind. "And uh... for your trouble."
Wanda then handed him cash of what she owes him. He looked at the money and then her. "This is.... $30"
"Oh you can keep it all." The witch said with a slight shake in her voice, she then cleared her throat. "U-unless you prefer it to be precise I can-" She pulled out her phone from her pocket. "I can use that uh... that app, Vimeo?"
Y/n couldn't help but to let out a chuckle, "Venmo. Vimeo is a like a... it's like Youtube." Am I really talking with this lady?
"Ah... Right, right, I... I knew that." She looked at her phone with confused look on her face. Wanda then let out a soft laugh. "Well imagine my confusion."
"Well, thank you. I could definitely use the extra $2." Y/n said with a smile.
"I should be thanking you." Wanda responded, she bit her lip slightly, wanting to continue the conversation with what it seems like the only person who sees her as a human. "I'm Wanda, by the way, Wanda Maximoff." She hold out her hand awkwardly.
"I uhm- I'm your new neighbor, but I- I'm sure you knew that already." She let out a nervous laugh.
Y/n didn't want to talk to the witch any longer than needed, sharing name would mean they were on first name basis. But if there's anything Y/n hated more... Being left hanging when you hold out your had.
"Y/n, nice to meet you, Wanda."
Wanda noticeably beamed at the fact that they didn't just brushed her off.
"Well I should be heading back. I live just across from you." Shit! Why did I say that??
"Oh then I hope to see more of you!" Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckity-
"Yeah, see you around, Mrs. Maximoff." He said politely, giving her a smile and crossed the street to his house. He internally cursed at himself. Idiot!
Wanda turned around smiling to herself. I made a friend...
---
For the next few weeks, Wanda never fails to greet them whenever she happens to see Y/n pass. She did that to everyone, of course, but no one ever really bothers to respond. Y/n desperately wanted to avoid her, but it was difficult as she continuously try to interact with everyone. Which... to be honest was quite sad.
He doesn't know why he felt bad, but seeing the woman trying so desperately to join society and no one giving her a chance was such a depressing sight to see. Not that Y/n should care, she shouldn't have done what she did. But...
Ugh... It doesn't take much for him to be polite at least.
So Y/n started to return her polite greetings. Whenever he sees her watering her flowers, she greet him with a wave and a smile. And Y/n does the same. They had to admit, seeing her so happy that someone responded was... kind of cute.
Eugh...
It went on for a while, so you could say they were on a friendly term. And Y/n had no plans on furthering that relationship. At least by choice.
"Hi there, Y/n!" She greeted with her usual smile and wave. It had been about 2 months since she lived here. "How's your morning jog?"
"Hi, Mrs. Maximoff. Uh... It was alright, nice weather today."
"I agree. Say, you fancy joining a party? I'm having a housewarming party this evening, you should come. There will be plenty of food." She asked with hopeful eyes.
"Uh..." Say no, say no, what the fuck are you- SAY NO. "I'll have to see, ma'am. I have a pretty packed schedule today."
Wanda tried to hide her disappointment as much as she could. She had heard tons of those excuses for days now, at least he was polite about his rejection. "That's alright, darling! I'm just across the road if you change your mind. And feel free to bring some friends!"
"I'll keep that in mind, Mrs. Maximoff. See you around!" Y/n said before going back to their house. They leaned on the closed door and sighed. Their sister looked at them expectantly.
"She invited you as well?" She said with a raised eyebrow.
Y/n sighed before answering, "Yeah..."
"I don't know why she even bothers. Not like anyone would take her up for it." His sister said dismissively as she went back to the living room, settling on the couch.
Y/n joins her and grabs the remote, "Maybe she has change."
"You've got to be one mentally ill fucker to say that, especially coming from you." She added, waiting for him to pick a movie. "Did she hex you or something-"
"I'm perfectly fine." Y/n sighed. "I just... Look she does seems like some woman who's trying to live a normal life."
"But she's not a woman, Y/n. She's a monster." She rubs her temple. "A lot of people gone mad in Westview, I'm sure you remember."
"How could I forget..."
"She could try all she wants, but I won't give her the benefit of the doubt. And I won't stop you if you decide too..." They looked at their sister who smiles at him gently. "The beauty of it is that you have a choice now, none of her victims did."
He looked at the floor, his sister could see the gears in his head moving.
"Though I have to say you are one mad son of a bitch if you did."
ᗢ----------ᗢ
I am one mad son of a bitch.
They thought to themselves as they rang her doorbell. I could still change my mind right? I can run-
"I'll be right there!"
Fuck!
Wanda opens the door, delighted to greet her guest. "Y/n! So glad you could make it."
"Hi, Mrs. Maximoff." They took in her dress, well she does look good. "You look stunning."
Wanda gave him a smile, "Thank you. Please, come in!"
They entered the house, it was cozy, small, homey, there were very little pictures hung up. They did notice one family picture, and what it looks like and old frame of her and her late brother. Her informations was easy to find on the internet, yes Y/n did their research.
The house was decorated for party mode. There was some snack on the table, fruit punch, and a few other things. However, it was missing a key ingredient...
"Sorry, am I early?" He turned to Wanda.
Wanda sighed, "Early is uh... one way to put it. You're the first one here the others must've been late. They said they'll stop by." She puts on a reassuring smile, but Y/n had a feeling she must've felt devastated.
And in fact, Wanda was. This housewarming party was her attempt to prove herself to the neighborhood that she was in fact not a threat, maybe make some friends... But no matter, she had one guest now.
"Take a seat!" She said enthusiastically, "Would you like something to drink?"
"Yeah sure, I'll get some fruit punch, looks really refreshing." The two settled down on the couch, there was a moment of awkward silent between them.
If there's one thing Y/n couldn't take, it was that.
"Here." They passed her the gift bag they had brought for her. "It's an old record player I had lying around, I don't ever use it anymore and I thought it would go with uh..." He searched for the right words, "Someone of your generation?"
Wanda took the gift with a smile and gave him a funny look, "You make it sounds like I'm old." She said jokingly. "But thank you. You didn't have too, but I appreciate it."
It was a red colored Crosley turntable. It was portable, and had a built in speaker. Her heart swelled at their gesture. "There's some vinyls in there as well, I hope you like the Beatles."
"I love the Beatles."
"I'll help you set it up." He said with a kind smile. Wanda decided to put the record player in her living room, perhaps some tune would help set up the mood. They plugged it in and Y/n made her choose the album. Wanda scanned the various albums, looking at the front cover and the back with a smile on her face.
She puts on one album and the song 'Twist and Shout' started to play. "Now this is a party." Wanda said, earning a chuckle from the youth. She then lightly bop her head into the song, twisting her legs like one of those old style dance. For a second she seems to lost her self into the music.
Y/n had always seen Wanda in... sort of a negative light. But seeing her smiling, dancing, just interacting with her on a more personal level... They were starting to see Wanda in an entirely new light.
The woman then turns to face the youth, she had a bright smile on her face as she made a 'come here' motion to him. "Not much of a dancer?"
They let out a laugh and joined Wanda. "I'll have you know I'm an incredible dancer."
Music was the exact ice breaker that they needed, they wen't from keeping their distance to even occasionally twirling each other playfully. Y/n had to admit, he was having fun with the witch. Wanda had a contagious laugh, an intoxicating energy, a smile that could light up a whole room, and she was so so... beautiful-
Why am I thinking about her like this?
"So Y/n, tell something about yourself. I'd like to get to know my neighbors better." Wanda asked once the music ended and it started playing a much slower song in the albums. They sat on the couch with a snack dividing their space.
"Oh I'm just your typical fresh graduate, ma'am. Still trying to find where I'm gonna belong here in the workforce." Y/n responded with a dry chuckle.
"I'm sure you'll find your place." She look down at her drink with a small smile. "Friend of mine always said there's a place for everyone in the world."
The way she said it so softly, made tugged something inside Y/n's heart. She really is just trying to fit in the world like the rest of us.
"And you, ma'am? Who is Wanda Maximoff?" He asked teasingly, getting more comfortable with her each minute. He popped some chips in his mouth, anticipating her answer.
"Me? Oh you know... I'm a retired old psycho witch." She said jokingly.
Y/n couldn't help the snort that came out of them, "Sorry-" Ok. She's got humor.
Wanda laughs and waved him off, "Don't be." She thought for a second before answering properly. "Well... I'm sure my informations are out there. Former Avenger turned villain, was... a threat to humanity once, served my time of redemption and here I am."
"Those are old news." Y/n said. "I'm asking along the lines of, who is Wanda Maximoff. What does she do for fun?"
Wanda tilted her head at his question, tiny smile creeped onto her face. No one... ever really asked her that question before. Wanda took a drink of her fruit punch before answering.
"I..." She cleared her throat, "I enjoy reading in my spare time, I love gardening as you can tell." Y/n listen intently with a soft smile on their face. "I like board games, I have a few collection of those, and... cooking."
She finishes with a smile. "Not the answers you were expecting?"
"Yeah... I honestly expected potions brewing." Wanda bursted out laughing at his response. A genuine hearty laugh. "With cauldrons and everything." He said jokingly, trying to get more amusement out of her.
She's so cute when she laughs.
"Don't tell me you think witches do potions brewing do you?"
"They don't?!" He asked in an exaggerate tone, which amuses Wanda further as she shook her head still with a smile on her face.
She then leaned against the her seat. "Maybe some do."
"Did you also had a wand like Harry Potter?"
The two shared another laugh, and they fell into an easy conversation from there. Wanda learned that Y/n lives with their sister, his parents were retired in Vancouver, Canada. She made a mental note to travel there as it seems like a wonderful place to live. Y/n just recently graduated from University and had planned on moving to New York once they had saved enough money.
Y/n learned that Wanda was also fond of drawing, painting, anything art related. She drew flowers that she grew in her garden mostly, but she occasionally draws a portrait of people. And she was actually pretty good.
Wanda gave him a tour of the house, her kitchen was surprisingly well equipped. Her living room had a 4K flat screen TV. She shyly admits that she enjoys watching movies and shows so she wanted put a little more money on investing in a decent screen. Y/n couldn't judge, they binge watch Netflix all the time too.
The clock soon hits 11 o'clock and Y/n remains the only guest at her party. He felt pity on her, as he could see from all the drinks and food, she really went out of her way only for no one to show up. They would assumed that Wanda felt sad and depressed, but to quite honest, Wanda was so happy that even one person attend her party.
Y/n was kind and polite, they treated Wanda like she was their neighbor instead of some witch. She couldn't be more grateful.
They were playing a game of Jenga when she noticed how late it was. "It's getting late." She told him as he was pulling out a block of wood from the tower with pure concentration, he was even sticking out his tongue.
"Mhmmm... I just need to-" The tower then falls and he groaned in frustration. Wanda laughs at his adorable nature. "You did that on purpose, you just wanted to kick me out!" He jokingly accused her.
"I did not!" She playfully shoved his shoulder. Y/n helped her cleaned up the block of woods before being escorted to the front door by Wanda. "Thank you so much, Mrs. Maximoff. I had a really great time."
"Please, just Wanda." She smiled at him. "And I should be thank you. This is the most fun I've had in a long time."
"So did I." He smiled at her while stepping outside. "If you need anything, I'm just across the road. Don't hesitate to stop by."
"I will, thank you." She smiled sweetly at him. Y/n walked backwards while waving goodbye at her.
"And I want a rematch!" He said before finally turning around to walk back to his house. Wanda laughs saying 'Of course' under her breath and closed the door.
She leaned against the door and let out a happy sighed. I really made a friend!
Smut next chapter homie? 👀
#wanda maximoff#wanda#wanda x reader#wanda x you#wanda x y/n#wanda x male reader#wanda x masculine!reader#wanda maximoff fanfic#wanda maximoff imagine#wanda maximoff angst#scarlet witch#the scarlet witch#mcu imagine#wanda maximoff x you#wanda maximoff x male reader
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Protect What Matters To You || Sasuke Uchiha x fem!reader
A/n : I decided to finish the fic I started 2 months ago before the 3 weeks of exams start soon
Masterlist ⚜
Warning : None just fluff, though mention of worshiping and a surprise
Summary : You and your boyfriend are walking in the streets of Konohagakure today, though he feels a little more protective than he usually is. But something unexpected will stir his emotions
I don’t give permission to repost my work, if you want to share it just reblogue it
Word count : 684
He had always been the protective one. Always glaring when people got too close to you, he would take a step closer until your sides touched. At times, his hand would clutch around your wrist or at your hip if he was in the mood for light pda, his cloak flapping like a shield around you.
At first, it was a bit tricky to keep up with, you had just started dating and all this was very new to him. He was one to easily get overwhelmed by his feelings, even though he was pretty gifted to hide it. After some time and some more discussions just the two of you, he came to terms with the usual ways of dealing with such situations. Besides after a while everyone knew you two were dating so they always thought twice before disrespecting you in any ways. Unfortunately for them - and Sasuke’s nerves - not everyone had this presence of mind.
He had seen them coming from afar, actually he did spot them from the moment they started walking down the path to Konohagakure marketplace. His eyes instinctively narrowed at the loud people that walked your way. Four boys of about 15 years old, chatting and laughing loudly as they made a din going down the narrow path leading to the marketplace.
As per usual, his ninja instinct kicked in as he studied them, his hand never loosening the grip it had on you. And as they got closer it only grew stronger and tighter. He glared at them, his Sharingan threatening to come to life as he tried to channel his protectiveness. The boys continued laughing together and pushing one another in some sort of fake battle, clearly not minding anything nor anyone around them.
And what had to happen happened, inadvertently one of the boys who just shoved his friend to the side ended up bumping into you. Being the robust kunoichi you were, the impact didn’t make you budge an inch, your eyes didn’t even widen because to be fair you had been looking at them from the same time Sasuke started, you just knew something like this could happen. Just like when you walk on the beach and walk near people playing football there, you just know you are going to get hit by the ball.
Though it seems Sasuke didn’t expect something like this could happen. Everything went very quickly. Instead of looking at the careless kids you immediately caught Sasuke’s wrist, whose Sharingan flared to life in an instant.
“Sasuke no, it’s fine” you reassured your boyfriend, gently pulling at his arm as he tried to take a step towards them. Fortunately your gentle words convinced him and he relented. Though his eyes followed the kids in a mix of silent threat if this were to ever happen again. He just couldn't help it when it came to you.
After the teenagers completely disappeared from his view he turned his head back to you, trying to keep his stoic façade, but he couldn't prevent the deep sigh that escaped his parted lips. Lately Sasuke has been very tense to say the least “You’re sure you’re alright ? And don’t underestimate it” he instructed.
You smiled at him “Yeah there’s nothing to worry about”
“Sure ?” he pressed on, his hand coming to rest gently on your stomach.
“Absolutely” you said feeling another rush of warmth as he started making slow circular motion, in a soothing manner - though it seemed he was trying to soothe himself as well - on the little swell that has started to subtly show for the past 3 weeks “He or she is perfectly fine”
A small smile spread on his lips at your reassurance. Without saying anything more, he brought his other hand to your lower back, reluctantly taking his hand off your abdomen before guiding you back on the path you were taking minutes ago. Now he was going to take you back home, where his nerves would ease a little, and where he would be able to worship your like the queen he knows you are.
#naruto#naruto imagine#naruto x reader#naruto fluff#naruto shippuden#naruto shippuden imagine#naruto shippuden x reader#naruto shippuden fluff#sasuke uchiha#sasuke uchiha imagine#sasuke uchiha x reader#sasuke uchiha fluff#sasuke#sasuke imagine#sasuke x reader#sasuke fluff#fluff#miri-writes
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So I was reading your posts about Percy and Annabeth having kids, and I just can’t see them actually birthing the baby. I could see more adoption for them. Mainly because I don’t think they’d physically be able to produce children. They went through Tartarus, that’s bound to have some kind of effect (affect? I never know which one to use) on the human body. But I just wanted to hear your opinion!
you see, i understand where you’re coming from. and as someone with a medical brain, i can absolutely see tartarus causing them issues like that. and honestly? i have always thought that there’s a good chance of percy and annabeth having a really hard time getting pregnant for the first time. like it taking 2-3 years.
but after all they’ve been through, i simply refuse to believe they don’t ever get that. i’m not against them adopting, but we’ve seen percy daydream about having a kid that looks like him and annabeth. i think being able to have a baby together would be a really big deal for them. they’ve wanted children for so long. and taking away the ability to bear children, for annabeth to be unable to become pregnant, feels too cruel. it’s too fucking cruel.
and while it’s true some of the gods don’t like percy and annabeth, a lot of them do. in fact, i’d say more than half of the olympians really like them. plus, the gods owe them. big time. dionysus is the god of fertility. he may pretend he doesn’t care about percy and annabeth, but we’ve seen that he secretly does. i think he def has a soft spot for annabeth. so i believe dionysus would secretly help them out. and even if he doesn’t, apollo is the god of healing, his son the god of medicine, and he considers percy a friend. he can help them too
so while i see where you are coming from, and i think adopting is wonderful (and maybe they still will!), i think taking away their ability to create children together is too cruel. it’s something that many real life couples go though. it’s devastating. and adoption is a beautiful, magical thing. adopted children are just as much your children as bio children. but after what percy and annabeth have faced, their past, their insecurities, their limitations, the idea of them not even being able to make a baby just feels… evil. it would destroy them. so even if tartarus took that from them, and if they struggle for a few years, i truly believe the gods would help them out
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Hey, I've been thinking about James with the reader who's super tall, and she's super insecure about it.
Then one day one of James' friends mentions the reader's height, and then she feels bad
(sorry for any mistakes, English is not my first language)
hii, sorry i took a while with this one; thanks so much for requesting!
and no worries at all! your english is great, but it also wouldn't matter if it wasn't 🤪 even though it feels like it by now, it's not my first language either lol
but isn't it just a lovely tool for us all to fantasize together 🫶
hope you like it! wasn't sure if you wanted the comfort after the angst, so i just wrote it in
pairing: James Potter x reader
word count: 2.1k
tags: angst, fluff, established relationship, insecure fem reader, not proofread sorry
You’re going out with James and the gang, and you’re excited for a fun night out. Until the dreaded dilemma you face every time you dress up: heels or no heels? You know from past experience that all your girlfriends will be wearing them. They range from Lily’s kitten heels to Marlene’s stilettos, but it’s always a little something for the special occasions.
The problem is: you’re tall. Very tall. Taller than all your friends with their heels on. When you wear them too, you look like a giant. You’re also taller than your boyfriend, James, but it doesn’t usually look that off… if you’re not wearing heels. When you do, you tower over him.
But you like the shoes, for some occasions. You’d like to just be able to wear them without its being a big deal. You’ve tried so many times to convince yourself that it isn’t, that you should just do whatever you want and care less what people think about you, but as soon as you’re out, they stare, and you feel awful.
You have a pair you think are really pretty but have literally never worn because of the significant height boost they give. You put them on, take them off, again and again, indecisive. After about the tenth time donning them, you look in the mirror and decide to go for it. What’s the worst that could happen? Short girls probably feels self-conscious about their height too, right? Everyone has something, you encourage yourself as you step out your door.
You’re all starting the night at a nearby pub where you all meet up. When James sees you, he lights up, giving you the warmest hug. His face nuzzles easily into the crook of your neck from the height difference then he kisses you adoringly.
“Hello, gorgeous,” he grins. “You look especially beautiful tonight.” He’s always so cheesy. You always love it.
“Thanks, Jamie,” you blush back. “You too.”
“Well, I have to look nice to stand next to my girl, don’t I?” He stands tall next to you, posing, though he’s quite shorter than you. You roll your eyes smilingly at his antics and intertwine your arms. He squeezes your arm in his and leans up for a peck.
You’re all soon standing around a tall table as you catch up, having your first drinks and discussing where the night should take you. Mary brings up another nearby pub, cosier than this one, and Remus seconds the idea. Marlene boos dramatically and argues you can do that any other night. She suggests a rather rowdy club, and Sirius drumrolls the table in excitement.
“I like that idea,” he surprises no one in saying.
“I don’t know,” Mary pushes back. “Last time we were there, we got separated, and it was so crowded, it took ages for us to even find each other again.”
“Easy fix tonight,” Sirius begins, grinning mischievously. “If we get separated, we all meet back up at Y/N. She’s like a homing beacon with those heels on! We’ll be able to see her over the crowds.”
Your stomach plummets. Some of your friends are laughing, others not so much, but you, you are mortified. You feel clammy and frozen, like there’s suddenly a wide distance between you and everyone else. You want to just disappear, go home and not have to hang out with anyone ever.
Only Lily seems to notice your discomfort, impressive given you’re giving your very best efforts to hide it even though you feel absolute shit.
“He’s an idiot,” she whispers in your ear. “Don’t listen to him. You look great.”
You turn to respond but are surprised to find trying to speak raises a knot in your throat. You can’t imagine how much more embarrassing it would be if you started crying at a stupid joke, so you just given her a strained smile and look down, trying to compose yourself.
Everyone else has been caught up in the conversation moving on, so it’s a little while before James turns to you, noticing your quiet, your downward gaze.
“Y’alright, love?” he whispers, a hand coming to the small of your back.
“Fine.” You repeat the strained smile, hoping it’s getting more convincing with practice.
“Sure? You seem upset.”
“‘M fine.” You don’t sound fine. “Thanks,” you add, trying to lighten the tone.
“Alright,” he says, though he doesn’t sound convinced. “So what do you feel like doing?”
“I don’t know… Maybe something where we’re sitting?”
“Sitting?” he laughs, thinking you must be joking. When you cringe, he realizes you aren’t. “Oh, uh, why?” Then, looking like a cartoon lightbulb has just gone off above his head, he asks, “Are your shoes hurting your feet or something? I don’t understand how you lot wear those things.”
“No, I —“ you begin, but quickly realize that could be a good, believable, non-embarrassing — well, at least less embarrassing — excuse. “Um, yeah, a bit.”
“Oh, well we can find places to take breaks whenever you want. Don’t worry, I’ll go with you to sit as often as you like,” he smiles.
You just smile back, though it doesn’t reach your eyes. When he’s not looking, you crouch down a bit awkwardly to be the same height as your friends around you. You try to keep this up, but after a while, it’s hurting your back, so you fall in and out of the pose for as long as you can stand it.
The night goes on, a destination eventually decided upon, a compromise in the end. Most of your friends seem to be having a good time, but you have been quiet all night. You haven’t been able to shake the feelings of discomfort and self-consciousness that joke sparked in you. You just feel sad. Not to mention your back is killing you from constantly trying to look shorter.
“James, I think I want to go home,” you say into his ear. He turns to you, his eyebrows raised in surprise.
“What? So early? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I’m just not feeling so well.”
“D’you feel sick? Have you had too much?” he asks, lifting his drink. You shake your head. “Your feet hurt?” he guesses again.
“A little. Look, it’s fine; it’s not a big thing, I’m just tired, okay?” You’re tense and pained and just want to get out of here. You feel the tears welling back up, and you’re keen to leave before the waterworks. You give James a quick kiss, adding “Don’t worry! Have fun! I’ll talk to you tomorrow!” in an off, fake enthusiasm then bolt to the door.
As you leave, you’re walking so quickly that you bump into some random bloke.
“Oh, shit, sorry,” he chortles then starts full out laughing with his mate next to him. You push past him.
You have no idea what he was laughing at. Maybe they had been laughing before you bumped into him. Maybe they were just completely pissed and needed no reason. But your already self-conscious brain immediately feels like they were laughing at you, at how much taller than them you were.
You can’t help it now and start softly crying as you walk a bit further down then lean against the wall. The ease on your back feels nice, but you wish you could just teleport home. You hide your face in your hands, not wanting people to see you crying.
So you don’t notice James approach you until you hear his worried, low voice.
“Hey, sweetheart, what’s going on?” He grabs your wrists ever so gently and, holding your hands to his chest with one hand, brings the other to wipe your tears. “Darling, what’s wrong? Did something happen?”
You see how scared he is and know ugly scenarios are running through his mind. You want to reassure him quickly but you can’t get yourself together. The guilt of the real reason you’re so upset being stupid in comparison makes you feel even worse, and you sob as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and hug him tightly.
“Hey, hey, it’s alright, love, it’s alright,” he coos, holding you close and petting your hair. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?”
You step back a bit, wiping your face aggressively and shaking your head at yourself.
“It’s stupid, Jamie, really I’m fine,” you muffle.
“I just want to help you be okay. Whatever it is, you can tell me.”
You look into his beautiful eyes, the worry in them shining through. You love him. You hate worrying him. And talking to him about anything always makes you feel better.
“I’m just too tall,” you confess.
“What?” he seems genuinely lost.
“I’m too tall,” you repeat, more softly this time, looking at the floor in shame.
“Too tall? Baby, what’s brought this on?”
“It’s stupid, I know. I just, I can’t stop thinking about it since Sirius made that joke.”
“What joke?”
“‘If we get separated, just look for the giant,’” you misquote sarcastically.
“Oh, darling. All night you’ve been upset? I’m so sorry I didn’t do something. I thought you were just a bit tired or something.”
“I’m so embarrassed,” you whisper.
“You shouldn’t be,” James says, with more bite in his voice. “Really, you shouldn’t. Not at your height, not at your feelings. Fuck, baby, I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner.” He pulls you into a warm hug as you shake your head. He just holds you a long time, till your breathing is even and slow again, then pulls back, keeping his arms around you.
“Hey,” James whispers.
“Hey,” you whisper back.
“I hate seeing you sad,” he says through a comforting smile. It manages to make you smile subtly back at him. “My gorgeous girl.” He kisses your cheek, still moist with tears. “Baby, you’re so beautiful. You don’t have to look like everyone else.”
“Thanks.”
“I mean it, Y/N. I think you’re ridiculously gorgeous. Tall, sure, but you’re just too perfect to be anything else. You’re majestic.” You scoff but laugh a bit at him.
“Majestic? I’m a mess most of the time.”
“You can be a mess and still look majestic. You do it all the time,” he says playfully. “You, my love, are like a queen.” You roll your eyes, but your face has softened. “You’re my queen,” he says more sweetly and kisses you.
“Thank you, Jamie. I’m sorry I was being stupid,” you voice your dark thought.
“Sweetheart,” he chides lovingly. “That’s nothing to be sorry for. I just wish you’d told me earlier. You’re not even a little bit stupid. Only for suffering alone,” he jokes. “We all have things. I get self-conscious about not being tall enough for you to like me,” he confesses, looking nervous.
“I don’t like you, I love you.” He smiles at this.
“And I’ll never get used to my queen loving me back.” His tone is teasing again, still vulnerable but very him.
You both take a deep breath and, eyes meeting, just chuckle together for a moment. You shake off the intense emotions, the charged conversation. You sigh and hug him again, his body eager to receive you.
“What do you want to do, love?” His hand is caressing your back as he looks into your eyes. “We’ll do whatever you feel like.”
You have to take a long time to consider it. You’d been so desperate to go home just moments ago, but now you’re unsure. You feel so much lighter and take your time thinking about what would make you happy, everyone else be damned.
“I want to dance. With you. And not crouch anymore,” you laugh. “My back is fucking killing me.”
“Crouching? Y/N, if I catch you crouching, I’m going to be very upset,” he teases. “You wanna dance? Let’s go dance, baby.” You nod, smiling.
“Just help me sneak to the toilets first. I’m sure I look a mess.”
“You’re beautiful, but sounds good. Then we dance.” He kisses you. “And then, once you’ve danced all you want to dance, we’ll take you home, and I’ll give you the best massage you’ve ever gotten. Your feet and back are going to be grateful they’re sore.” You scoff lovingly and put your arm in his.
As you head back inside, you stand tall next to James, feeling like you’re floating, happy for now to be majestic mess.
#james potter#james potter x reader#james potter x you#james potter imagine#james potter oneshot#james potter fluff#marauders#marauder x reader#sirius black#sorry siri i love you#lily evans#marauders fanfic#angst#fluff#established relationship
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Imagine baby Sarah angry with Joel for not giving into her asks and wants like idk candy maybe and sides with reader going behind Joel’s back to ask the exact same thing and then in the middle of the day Joel questions how Sarah got a lollipop and reader says that Sarah told her that Joel said yes but to ask reader as well and they then connect the dots to discover that they’ve been played
Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife: Sarah's Bargain
Notes: I’ve derailed from this prompt a little because Sarah’s gotta outsmart all of the adults in the room.
- - - -
Sarah and Joel are walking through the gas station mart when she spots the colorful rack of assorted candy.
"Daddy, can I have one ring pop?"
"No," he responds plainly, counting the twinkies in his hand and figuring out how many he can get before you yell at him.
"Why not."
He grabs two bottles of Pepsi in one hand before heading over to the check out counter. “Because I said so."
She grumbles and follows close behind him. "If I clean my room--"
"You can't bargain with me. I'm not mom. My answer is no."
She thinks about it for a moment. Then smiles. "Ok Daddy, I understand."
Joel is surprised she acquiesced so quickly. She seems to have gotten over the tantrum phase. Maybe he's doing a pretty good job at this parenting thing after all.
-
Later on, you take Sarah along with you to go grocery shopping. "Mom.”
"Yes bubba."
"Dad said if I cleaned my room, I could have a ring pop."
You pause, surveying the special deal for pepsi cans. Despite Joel telling you about the suspicious amount of pepsi that’s been disappearing from his stock, you hadn’t touched any. In fact, you had your own stock that you suspect he’s found out and been stealing from.
“What?”
“A ring pop,” she repeats. “Dad said if if cleaned my room, I could have one.”
Thats very uncharacteristic of him to bargain with Sarah.
"He did? So what are you coming to me for?"
"Well he said ONLY if you agreed. Said it was OK but to ask mom first to be sure."
Fuck, making me do the hard decision. Joels always the favorite, and if you say no now, then it’s going to make you the mean mom for no reason. You did see she cleaned her room without being told...
You grab the pepsi case, hoping Joel won't scold you for your own hoarders pile.
You see the innocent batting of her eyes just as you look over to the candy aisle. “Well if Dad said yes..."
-
Sarah and Joel are sitting at the table as he unwraps his secret stash of pepsi and Twinkie’s away from you.
"I asked mom for a ring pop and she said yes,” she mentions while coloring her book.
Joel freezes with half the cream custard in his mouth. “I said—“
"Its ok! I told her since you had said no, that she didn't need to get me one. I just wanted to see if she would..."
"You trying to set me up against mom?"
"No..." she adds quickly. "I just... thought it would be an interesting experiment.” She smiles softly, before turning to a very mature, saddened tone. “But then I realized it was wrong and I should have listened to you in the first place. So I didn’t take it because I know you said no."
He thinks about it for a moment. Now you’re going to come to him lecturing about why Sarah doesn't get things when she CLEARLY has a good sense of responsibility, going as far to say no to something she clearly wants just to respect him. She's also smart to test both of you, and even when she could have had it, she still refused.
“Alright. Just cuz I'm proud of ya.” He dusts the power from his fingers and fishes for his wallet. “You’re a smart kid. But I don't want you testing your mom n’ me for the same answer. And I don't want to get in trouble with her. I'll get you one. Just this once ok?"
She nods solemnly and crosses her heart. “I won’t say anything.”
-
The next day, you hear Joel and Sarah coming in from the garage and you quickly stash your pepsi behind the potted plant. Your daughter gives you a fat kiss on the cheek before running to the living room and turning on the tv.
You and Joel sit at the table. “I saw the can by the way.” He remarks.
You grunt, pulling the aluminum from its hiding spot and proudly sipping it before crinkling it in your hand. “Well I haven’t been stealing from you. I …have my own stash.”
Joel gasps, offended and surprised by your double standards. “And you yell at me n’ my Twinkies!”
"There better not be any f-ing twinkies in this house Joel Miller," you point at him threateningly.
"Nope none Nada. Haven't seen any." he slowly tucks the new plastic back full of them under his legs.
"The two of you talk about Sarah having cleaned her room without being told.
"Yeah, I ended up getting her the ring pop,” he tells you.
You furrow your brows.
“?… but, I got her the ring pop. She said you told her I would get if it I also approved? I didn’t want to be the mean mom!"
Fuck, Joel knows you get too worked up on trying to be too nice and cater to Sarah... "What? I told her no first. I never said it was up to you. Then she said she asked you and you said yes, but she refused yours, so I got her it instead for being responsible. I told you to stop worrying about being the nice mom!”
You also know Joel's a sucker for marveling Sarah's experimental mind and working on being responsible over getting what she wants. "She did NOT refuse my offer. what are you talking about?"
Tommy comes in moments later, and waves to the two of you through the open door. Sarah runs up to him near the doorway, and he greets her first suspiciously. They do a funky little hand shake, and you catch a glimpse of something silver going into his palm before she retreats to the living room
"What are you doing here?" Joel asks.
Tommy shrugs. "Uh nothin’ just.."
"Did you just slip her a ring pop??" You ask incredulously.
He huffs a guilty sigh. "Sarah asked for a ring pop because you guys told her no, so I went to pick one up at the store as long as she didn’t tell either you...."
Fuck. You and Jole BOTH know Tommy's complex about wanting to be Sarah's favorite uncle (despite the fact you keep reminding him he's her ONLY uncle and he has no competition).
Above all else, Sarah knows these weakness about each of you. You all look over to her as she unwrap a third ring pop, putting all of them on her one hand and switching back and forth sucking on them. There's an open Pepsi can clutched in her other tiny palm that she sips from, with an exceedingly satisfied grin on her face.
- - - -
Taglist:
@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop
#joel miller fan fiction#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller fanfiction#last of us fanfiction#joel miller fic#the last of us fanfiction#joel and sarah#joel miller fluff#the last of us fluff#the last of us fic#tlou fluff#tlou fic#tlou fanfiction#last of us fic#joel dealing with preggo wife
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Any chance you'd expand on the hank hill trans guy post? (Sorry, best indicator I could come up with.) The concept interests me as I decidedly know my maleness, yet don't feel impeded by for the most part, any male gendered norms/boxes. I am fairly masculine, though I rarely use those kinds terms to describe myself.
I have found I often do stray outside of what society pushed for me when I transitioned, yet I again do not feel it has taken from my right to maleness whatsoever. I am just me, who happens to be male. I have had friends try and suggest I am NB adjacent but I do not feel this way whatsoever. I feel more people are outliers to gender expectation than we care to admit and it's disappointing the way cis-people deny that.
Hope this wasn't too long winded, I value your writing and perspective, and wanted to hear more of your thoughts on this.
Yeah, well so many things all get conflated by gender labels, and it's all so personal, you know? Masculinity does not have to mean maleness, and a person's gender identity might be a reflection of some innate quality they experience themselves as having, or a general summary of their tendencies, or their desired presentation, or their sense of affinity with other people, or an interpersonal tool, or something they just go along with because it was given to them by society, or any other number of things.
I think my recent substack piece on detransition goes into this pretty well, and I have an upcoming piece of what @pastimperfection calls "bilateral dysphoria" that comes out next week that delves into it too.
I think I mostly saw taking on a male identity as a means to an end more than any kind of innate reflection of who I was, though I did feel an affinity with effeminate men for a lot of reasons. I think I also discounted how much I have in common with my fellow nonbinary people of all stripes, because that identity became so strongly associated with being an annoying type of queer person that everybody else just wrote off as ultimately being their assigned gender at birth anyway no matter how much they protested. it doesn't help that 'nonbinary' is a catchall term for literally thousands if not millions of very distinct experiences and desires.
transitioning gave me control over how i was perceived, finally, but hormones are a throttle that only go in one very specific direction, and you don't really have all that much control over which changes kick in at which times and what people will make of you once you do start registering to them as some identity other than what you were first saddled with. it's an incredible gift to be able to toggle that throttle. but it's limited, not because medical transition isn't incredible and needed for so many, but because there is no escaping the goddamned binary cissexist logic that influences everything about how people treat you, how you navigate institutions, who finds you desirable and what they want out of you, and so much else.
if you're able to cast a lot of the external societal bullshit aside and feel strong in your maleness, maybe you're stronger than me or maybe our orientation to these things is just different, i don't know. i was never all that sensitive to feedback that i was doing the whole being-a-woman-thing all that wrong. i reveled in violating those rules to an extent. succeeding at being a woman despite my best attempts was what felt super dysphoric. and now i guess im succeeding at being a man, insofar as im always read as one, and it feels just as uncomfortable and objectifying and false. i thought that with manhood i could probably just grit my teeth and deal with it, but i'm finding that i can't.
ive always been very open that for me, gender is a thing I Do, and i guess to those who know me well it wouldnt be surprising to hear that i have gotten tired of Doing Being a Man and dont feel like playing that particular gendered game anymore. I tend to get bored of things! and find the flaws in things. and find my comfort in being fault-finding and contrarian and not being a joiner. and thats okay. i learned a lot along the way. not having to try any more is a huge relief. i can just do whatever. and know actively that people will more often than not be wrong in what they make of me.
maybe it was natural feeling for you to decidely 'know' your maleness without a care for masculine standards because that is the right identity for you! and maybe i only feel secure in the "not knowing" realm and in letting go of what people think of me or finding any kind of tidy categorization for it because that's the right spot for me. for now. until i find a new interesting way to be unhappy and striving for more and different again. :) that's just part of being alive, for me.
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I wanted to say how flattered I was to hear I inspired your first story, but it seems to me like you’ve had this TF magic in you all along 😉 You’re off to an incredible start, each of your stories has been so hot to read - I’m curious to see how you’d change me? You know how much I love writing about big, pussy obsessed straight men: I wonder if you’ll make me one or an item that a man like that uses and abuses. Have fun with it, bro!
First of all i really want to thank you and all the other people who've sent me nice messages. I've loved transformation for a while now, and i've been feeling like i wanted to give back so it's nice to hear that i've been able to do that so far.
Hearing that from you is especially gratifying because i really love your stories bro. They've really been an inspiration for me when writing mine first ones. I guess that if this thing keeps working out for me and we keep writing about the same stuff… well we might have a bit of a rivalry on our hands haha…
"I wish i was joking … but honestly, i've really been thinking that. And honestly, you kinda offered yourself on a silver platter for me there. I'm sure you expected something fun with this but this is the perfect opportunity for me to take you out.
What's that look on your face ? This isn't what you wanted ? Well it's too late to turn back now bud. Besides, i already know exactly how you can be of use to me from now on"
With that, i snapped my fingers. You felt the effects instantly as your body wracked with immense pain. Twisting and distorting, your body adopted a new and improved form. You saw your skin become a pristine white as your flesh and bones restructured into a tightening weave of elastic fabric. You tried to scream at me to stop but you had already been silenced. Instead, your face reshaped itself into the front pouch of a pair of Calvin Klein underwear. As you fell on the floor, you struggled to take in your newly transformed world. Your mind was intact but all physical markers of who you once was were gone. Just a nice, brand new piece of clothing for me to ruin.
"Alright dude, just out of gratitude for the good times i had reading your stories, i'm willing you make you a deal. If you manage to keep your mind from breaking for one month then i will turn you back into a human. deal ? Well, i guess it's not like you have much of a choice anyway"
I took off my current underwear : a rank, soaked and yellowed thong. I threw it to the side on a pile of sportwear, all in a similarly perverted state.
"Don't look at the pile of used clothes over there bro. I promise you that it won't make you feel any better about what's coming for you" I stroked and jiggled my fat dick "And neither will looking at this huhu"
The literal gravity of your imminent fate set in. With a cocky smirk, i picked you up and slid you up my thick legs. Your wails of horror fell on deaf ears as your face pressed against my thick package, stretching and conforming to its every contour.
"Hehe, you hug my nuts so tightly bro. It's almost like you were always meant to be down there, servicing my musky balls."
And musky they were. An immediate sensory overload took over your brain. The instant warmth made you gasp for air but all you could inhale were fumes of sweat and dried cum. This masculine stench quickly permeated the entirety of your being, making you struggle to form coherent thoughts. To top it all, the moistness made your body stick tightly against my manhood, unable to get away from this reeking nightmare.
"Sorry about that dude. I should warn you; once i start wearing a pair of undies, i never change out until they're ruined. That means that 24/7 for the next month i'm going to wear you, work out in you, sweat in you, i'm even gonna cum in you. Oh bro, i'm gonna completely wreck you."
"I promise you that it shouldn't even take a month to completely break you. But try not to panic, there's a moment when you'll embrace your new purpose as my nice, sweaty underwear and it'll all become very pleasant. If or when that happens is completely up to you bro. You get to choose if this experience will be a disgusting or a pleasurable one. But remember, your humanity is on the line huhu."
The reality of your new life for the coming month fully dawned on you. Sweat. Piss. Cum. Constantly. What you had been writing and reading about on your blog for fun finally became your intoxicating reality. You were worried your brains were already melting. How the hell were you supposed to last an entire month ??? You were struggling and begging for mercy against my big … snug …. balls …
Your suffering psyche desperately tried to rationalize what was happening to you. Maybe this was possible … You could just … take care of my goods for a month and then … everything would be fine. You just had to …. not break…
I laughed in satisfaction as i pressed you further against my cock. Inspiration for a hot new story already struck me but i needed to go work out first. I wanted to get you all nice and soaked so that i could get you to enjoy this.
"No hard feelings bro."
#inanimate tf#musk#inanimate transformation#jock#male tf#male transformation#reality change#wish gone wrong#ask#underwear tf#clothing tf#jock bulge#mental change
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Happy 28th! Here is my April 2024 fic rec, organized by word count, from longest to shortest. You can view my other fic recs here. Enjoy!
When All Is Said And Done by lovelarry10 / @chloehl10 (76k)
“You must be thinking of another of your ex-husbands,” Louis snapped back, and Harry stilled, slowly turning to face him. There was something almost dangerous in Harry's look then but Louis stayed firm, not cowering away.
“Thankfully, I only have the misfortune of one ex-husband,” Harry said darkly, snatching up the plates and slamming them onto the table.
*****
Louis and Harry were married, but things fell apart, ending in divorce, broken hearts and separate lives. Years later, their paths cross once more, and time together forces old feelings to resurface. But is it too little, too late?
Greenhouses AU Series by TiredTiredTz / @tiredtiredtz (63k)
Glass Closets and Greenhouses (60k)
Charlton Athletic defender Louis Tomlinson and worldwide sex symbol Harry Styles are rumoured to be hooking up after a viral video filmed at Harry’s Wembley show was posted online by Tommo’s twin sisters.
Sources close to the pair tell us the couple have been dating for a while, with rumours of house hunting, marriage and even kids on the cards!
Styles, 29, is as well known for his whirlwind love life as his chart topping music. Most recently linked to British fashion designer Alex Millet-Sloan, Harry has stayed tight-lipped on rumours of any romantic rendezvous between himself and footballer Tomlinson, 31, yet fans online are convinced that all evidence points to #Tomlinstyles being the real deal.
Not Conditional (3k)
Harry is bald and this is how I’m coping.
Set a few years after the events of Glass Closets and Greenhouses.
It Feels Different When You’re With Me by Rearviewdreamer / @all-these-larrythings (45k)
Harry fell in love with sign language as a kid. He never imagined the first love of his life would lead him straight to his second.
Every Lonely Place by HamPalpert (38k)
Facing the fact that he’s been prioritizing his career over his relationship, Harry proposes to his longtime boyfriend Louis on a whim. But when yet another work emergency takes precedence over their plans, Louis decides he’s had enough. Harry goes to bed drunk and alone, and when he wakes, he finds himself in an entirely different world. Over and over again, Harry visits a lifetime he’s once lived, across time and dimensions. And wherever there’s a Harry Styles, there’s a Louis Tomlinson.
The Act of Making Noise by suspendrs / @suspendrs (32k)
“Oh,” Harry frowns, waving him off. “No, I could never. I respect myself too much to sing for a living.”
It feels like a slap across the face, but Louis does his best not to stiffen, blinking once and then frowning. “What?”
“Those people are always so miserable, you know?” Harry says, hopping down off his stool and straightening his sweater. “There’s so much pressure on them, and they have to work so hard to keep up appearances, I can’t even imagine how difficult that is. I can’t even stand to listen to pop music today, let alone watch TV or read the magazines. It makes me so sad, thinking that those people, you know, the ones who actually went into it with heart, they only ever just wanted to make music and instead they got turned into things on leashes being paraded around to make money for other people,” he says. “Anyway, you can have the stool.”
Or, Louis's famous, Harry has no idea who he is, and they get snowed in together at a ski lodge in Vermont.
It’s About Time by kingsofeverything / @kingsofeverything (3k)
Best friends and roommates, Louis and Harry have been through a lot together, including law school for Louis, marriage and divorce for Harry. Their imminent eviction forces them to admit their feelings.
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joss's sick obsession with not just causing pain and suffering - but punishment and humiliation to his "pretty popular girl" archetype characters aka Buffy and Cordelia and his favoritism of the most horrible mediocre white men aka riley, xander, and angel is never more apparent than in Into the Woods
The writers opted not for the FANTASTIC call back to season 1 with owen and Never Kill a Boy on the First Date when Buffy says "two days in my world and owen really would get himself killed…. or I'd get him killed… or someone else...."
which set them up perfectly for the road map of Buffy's attempt at a "normal" relationship that angel, her mother, and the scoobies keep trying to push her to have (when she's not normal herself so of course it's gonna be a disaster which is soooooo trying to force a queer person to be straight coded which is why spuffy is inherently queer on top of them both being canonically bisexual because Buffy embracing her love of Spike is embracing her inherent queerness)
But could you IMAGINE how amazing it would have been for season 1 to have foreshadowed riley being turned at the suck house (because literally all that evil in Sunnydale and NO ONE takes the opportunity to turn the slayer's boyfriend into the perfect secret weapon to take her and her whole family out??? PLEASE)
Then vamp riley almost killing Dawn and her mother (because Dawn would be the one tricked into inviting him in as a call back to Dawn accidentally inviting Harmony in and Buffy saying she's gonna get us all killed plus angel tricking his little sister into inviting him in once he was turned)
Buffy is forced to kill him after pleading with him to remember he loves her or any part of who he was (which would further show how exceptional Spike's ability to form a truce with Buffy, keep it, and fall in love with her all without a soul is)
Making riley her second (third if we count ford being left for dead and then having to dust him) turned evil boyfriend she's forced to kill.
Buffy would still be DEVASTATED and it's Buffy so she'd still punish and blame herself even though it'd be all riley's fault (demonstrating how this storyline would still cause immense pain for Buffy and be very high stakes drama for the plot but again joss elected for humiliation having Buffy literally chase after the man who was cheating on her with vampires while she was dealing with a sick mother and a hell god after her sister. Favoring a white man's character over the best plot line)
All while also further setting up her and Spike's relationship because of the "if that's what I wanted I'd be dating Spike" of it all which was her basically saying if I didn't want normal, Spike would be who I'd choose and now she's tried to be normal and he got killed, almost killed her family and then she had to kill him just like season 1 Buffy knew would happen when she broke things off with owen!!
AND the poetic irony of her trying to be “normal” and it ends with the exact same result?? The lesson being that rejecting who you are is not the answer and the only true answer is self acceptance because pain will happen no matter what so might as well love and embrace yourself ???
BUT NOOOOOOO the writers aka joss opted for riley's narrative to be that he's a hero and a good guy always, no matter what because joss has a big fat crush on marc and guys like him, angel and oz all get written off by treating women like shit without being villainized for it at all and then leaving. Getting to go on to live rich and fulfilling lives while Kendra, Tara, Cordy, and Anya are all violently killed off with barely any time spent grieving their deaths by more than one character..... (I haven't ever been able to finish ats so I don't know how much this applies to cordy's but my guess is the pattern didn't change much)
THEY EVEN LOOK THE SAME FOR CHRIST’S SAKE IT WRITES ITSELF
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making myself sad but can you imagine how powerful it would be if Moxxie and Millie saw how confused and shook up the full moon deal left Blitzo and they like, actually listened to him and validated him?
like if he explained when he made the deal and how he was getting shot at and Stolas not only didn't care but pushed him into agreeing so Blitzo could get him off the phone, then went into an X rated rant while Blitzo was in danger
and Moxxie suddenly remembers how Stolas was still going when he went back to the house even though Blitzo obviously wasn't on the phone anymore. and how Blitzo always seemed to have to pysche himself up before visiting Stolas once a month
then he explains how Stolas gave him the crystal but whenever Blitzo got mad at how he'd been treated Stolas would either do nothing to change the behavior (after Ozzie's) or denied it and blamed Blitzo completely for not immediately jumping to love him (full moon, probably)
and Moxxie and Millie realize what they've been treating so lightly and as an advantage of their business has been something Blitzo has been compartmentalizing to deal with this entire time and been forced into to keep the lights on.
and for all Blitzo's flaws they both look at one another, take one of his hands and look him in the eye before saying "you didn't deserve how he treated you"
and Blitzo just crumples because all along Stolas has validated his worst fear - that all he's good for is sex - then turned around and demanded an intimacy and love from him that he desperately wants to feel with someone, but he's never felt anything but used and dirty with Stolas. but now finally someone is listening to him. he doesn't have to feel crazy and alone anymore
for a show that loves to strut itself around like it wants to talk 'about abuse' it sure avoids having any discussions about the effects of it - and who gets away with it most effectively - instead it's just 'look, character is sad and cries'
but you just know what we're gonna get is Millie "the prince is the boss' boyfriiienddddd!' and Moxxie 'calls Stolas Highness constantly and is happy to rescue him twice without ever being thanked' just shaming Blitzo and grouping Stolas in with the people Blitzo hurt before, as though they're remotely the same thing
probably accompanied with the most aggravating cut rate version of 'I won't say I'm in love' where M&M are the greek chorus going 'so what if he treated you like a sex toy? get over it!' ever
Gloriously cruel of you to fill our heads with such beautiful, tearjerking visions of what could have been, then smack us collectively with that fat serving of reality, Anon. 11/10.
youtube
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Thoughts on The Ghoul
So I think all the characters in the Fallout show are spectacular, but I had some thoughts on The Ghoul/Cooper Howard in particular that I just wanted to put down. Owing to his 200+ years of history, he's a downright fascinating, dynamic character, and I can't wait to see what they do with him next.
Anyway, here's my thoughts/character analysis of The Ghoul:
One of the things I found most interesting on my second watch-through of the show was how everything The Ghoul does is motivated by ruthless pragmatism, not cruelty. It can appear like cruelty--sometimes it tips over into cruelty--but cruelty is not the point. The point is always survival. He must survive to find his family. That is his goal and his one guiding tenet. Nothing else matters, everything else is fluid. Whatever it takes to survive.
Getting rid of the three bounty hunters who dug him up? Survival. Two of those guys were already one twitch away from killing him on the spot for being a ghoul, and the other threatened to harm him if he didn't show enough gratitude. Coupled with some of the other things he was saying, it seemed possible he would double-cross or kill The Ghoul the moment it suited him. No doubt The Ghoul has worked with the type before, and knew trouble when he saw it.
In Filly, he only shot people who were shooting at him. Cooper loves dogs, but he stabbed CX-404 because she was actively trying to kill him. On the surface, he healed her for equally pragmatic reasons: she could lead him to Wilzig. But he also seemed to respect, too, that she clung to life despite her debilitating wound. She's not his dog Roosevelt, so he tries to maintain a cold detachment from her (at first), but he has a soft spot for dogs.
He was willing to shoot Lucy in Filly, but he hesitated--which is more than he did for any of the other people threatening his life. Possibly he wouldn't have killed her (she was armed with a non-lethal weapon) until Maximus showed up on the scene and changed the calculus (dispatch the girl and deal with the newer, bigger threat without having to worry about her finding a lethal weapon and killing him with it). He didn't kill Maximus when he had the chance, either. He didn't need to. Maximus had already shown himself to be incompetent with the power armor. It was simple enough to damage the power armor and watch him tuck tail and run.
When he meets Lucy again, he uses her with the same casual, indifferent efficiency as he would any other tool. The point of dunking her in the water was to lure the gulper. It had the unfortunate side effect of also being torturous for Lucy, but the cruelty wasn't the point. Getting the head back was. The head=caps, caps=meds, meds=survival, survival=eventually find family.
We don't know what The Ghoul would have done if they had retrieved the head from the gulper and his medicine hadn't been destroyed. Probably it would have depended on what Lucy did. If she seemed likely to come after him and the head, he probably would have killed her or incapacitated her and left her for dead. If she had explained she needed to trade it with Moldaver for her dad, Hank MacLean, hoooo boy, he would have beelined for Moldaver's with Lucy in tow. Whether Lucy came along as his partner or his captive/extra bargaining chip would also probably depend on Lucy's behavior.
But they lose the head and The Ghoul's medicine is destroyed. The math changes. He can come back for the head, but he needs meds now, which means he needs caps now, and the only thing of value he has on hand is this pampered girl from a fucking vault who seems patently unwilling to do the things that need to be done to survive in the Wasteland anyway, so if she's gonna die, he might as well profit from it. He needs meds to survive. He needs caps for meds. It's simple, brutal math.
While he's hauling her to the Super Duper Mart, though, he does several interesting things that are degrading for Lucy, yes, but are simultaneously teaching her how to survive the Wasteland, testing to see if she'll adapt. First, he mercy kills Roger and butchers him. It's important to note that The Ghoul didn't have to take a detour from his all-important mission to obtain medicine--he could hear it was Roger, he could tell Roger was going feral and didn't have any meds-- but he went anyway to help ease an old friend's passing. And he made sure Roger's last thoughts were pleasant, too.
Then, because this is the Wasteland and the one law is survival, he wastes no time switching gears. There's no waste in the Wasteland, and a fresh dead body presents an opportunity for those willing to seize it. The Ghoul, mind you, has had 200 years to learn that he can't be picky. Ghouls are unwelcome in most "civilized" parts of the Wasteland, barred from the simple comforts and safeties and securities that other people can enjoy if they reach those scattered, precious oases. The Ghoul has had to eat people. It sucks, but it's that or die.
But Lucy doesn't understand that. She arguably doesn't understand what a ghoul even is because nobody's taken the time to tell her. She doesn't know what the last 200 years have been like. She's appalled--and then she has the audacity to voice her disgust. The Ghoul hands her the knife to keep butchering Roger in part to humble her, to drag her down into the dirt with the rest of them, but he's also teaching her a stark reality of the Wasteland. It was a lesson and a skill that he had to learn the hard way. (Interestingly, while nearly everyone in the Wasteland is disgusted by cannibalism, it's also a known thing that happens all the time. The Ghoul and Lucy are in the interesting position of being some of the only people in the Wasteland who were raised in societies where cannibalism truly was unthinkable).
On the walk to the Super Duper Mart, he refuses to give her water. On a pragmatic level, there's no reason to waste water on the equivalent of a dead woman walking--he's leading her to get her organs harvested, after all. (He is pretty petty when he pours out the last drops instead of giving them to her, though). But also, whether he is actively intending to or not, he is teaching her to adapt to Wasteland conditions. The water in his canteen, in fact, was just as irradiated and gross as the standing water from which Lucy ultimately drinks; he refills his canteen from the same rusted-out vessel Lucy drinks from, and likely drew the previous canteen's worth of water from a similarly unpalatable source. This is water in the Wasteland. Drink it or die.
When she runs away shortly after, he lassos her (and, sidenote: can I just add how fucking cool it is that they actually carry through his lasso skills? Like, that is actually an extremely useful skill and the writers utilized it!), which leads to that pivotal scene where she bites his finger off and he takes hers.
This is interesting for multiple reasons. The Ghoul calls her a "little killer" and seems satisfied to see her finally fighting with the same savagery as a Wastelander. This could be either because a) he believes all people have a killer lurking beneath the facade of civility ("I'm you, sweetie. Just give it a little time...") and she's finally found that steely will to survive no matter what it takes, and/or b) he believes she's been faking her doe-eyed, good girl persona. He's the one who first finds Wilzig's body, after all. To him, it looks like Lucy lured the doctor off and ruthlessly chopped off his head before running off with it. Maybe she's just a really good actress, and in biting his finger off, she's let that mask slip.
Either way, he introduces her to another law of the Wasteland: don't dish it if you can't take it. She takes his finger, he takes hers. He doesn't kill her for it, in part because that would be disproportionate, in part because that would be a waste (he probably needs he alive to exchange her for caps). But also, from a practical standpoint, she just bit off his shooting finger. Unbeknownst to her, ghouls can reattach body parts, even ones that are not their own. He's harvesting his replacement from her. If he wanted to be cruel, he had ample opportunity to be cruel here. He could have taken more fingers. He could have hurt her in ways that wouldn't have affected her value to organ harvesters. He could have degraded her and called her all kinds of nasty names. But he doesn't. He's efficient. If anything, he seems almost proud of her for abandoning her hoity-toity principles and fighting back.
He still needs caps. He's feeling the effects of not having his medication. He's still committed to delivering her to the organ harvesters. In his mind, he has no choice. This is about survival. He has to survive to find his family. This is the option he has available to him. This is how he lives to see another day. He brings her to the Super Duper Mart and, drawing deep from that actor's well, he maintains the tough-guy routine long enough to intimidate her inside, then he succumbs.
He's still down when Lucy re-emerges, victorious, and he knows, he knows that he's dead. He tried to kill her, now she'll kill him. It's the smart thing to do, the practical thing to do. Another law of the Wasteland...
But she doesn't do it. She has all the power here, she knows he's a dangerous element, that she would probably be safer if she left him for dead or killed him herself. But she breaks all the rules. She gives him, freely, generously, with supreme dignity and a selfless kindness he had long forgot, an abundance of the thing he needs to survive, the thing he was willing to sell another human being for no questions asked. Just like that.
There's also something to be said here about how resource scarcity (and the removal of that scarcity) affects people. As soon as The Ghoul gains a cache of at least 2 months worth of medicine, it frees him from the basic math of mere survival. He has room to breathe and think long-term (at least by Wasteland standards). He can reflect on the momentous thing that just happened to him, too. As he watches himself on the TV in the Super Duper Mart, watches the man he once was unwillingly (and unwittingly) take the first step onto the path to what he has become, he remembers what it was like being Cooper Howard. Why he, Cooper Howard, hated the "feo, fuerte, y formal" scene so deeply.
Cooper Howard was a kind, moral, and dignified man who seldom said an unkind word. He was a loving husband who deeply respected his wife and absolutely adored his daughter. Though his naivety, privilege, and ignorance blinded him to the ugly realities of the pre-apocalypse world around him, he valued justice, freedom, and equality. He wanted the characters he played in the movies to reflect that belief in the power of the law and respect the innate humanity of all people, even the villains. And, when he began to see the cracks in the perfect picture of his charmed life, he is driven to know the truth behind the facade. His deep, defining belief in justice and truth would not let him leave it alone.
Cooper Howard learned the truth that Vault-Tec (and by extension, his wife) were willing to drive the world off a cliff, and it destroyed his marriage and deeply affected him. Even then, demoralized and hurt as he was, he found it in himself to be thoughtful and kind to his daughter and the people, both adults and children, at the birthday party he worked the day the bombs dropped. Fundamentally, he was still a kind, moral man. And that kind, moral man found himself in the middle of the most horrific nightmare anyone could ever imagine experiencing: the death of the planet under a rain of atomic bombs. Then he lived through it and had to contend with the harsh realities of surviving on the annihilated landscape left behind. Fortunately for him, he already had several handy skills to carry him through: having formerly been a real cowboy, he knew a thing or two about surviving in tough conditions; having formerly been a soldier, he knew what it took to kill a man and had the experience and fortitude to do it; and finally, having formerly been an actor, he had a built-in psychological coping mechanism to insulate him from the horrors of the things he needed to do to survive.
Cooper Howard used to put on and take off personas for a living. Sure, he played white hats, but he had an intuitive understanding of character and narrative tropes. He played opposite some of the best bad guys in 21st century Hollywood! It wouldn't be hard for him to pull the cloak of acting around himself to do what he initially needed to do to survive. But somewhere along the way, the tough, ruthless persona he adopted stopped being an act and he became his character. He embodied the answer to the question posed by The Man from Deadhorse: what happens when a good man is driven too far?
Cooper Howard adapted to survive. His actions reflect the realities of being a ghoul (again, a people generally reviled by everyone and cast out of safe havens because they are deemed threats). Pragmatic and efficient violence are necessities if a ghoul wants to live long, stay sane, and stay out from under the thumb of would-be enslavers. Still, beneath it all, Cooper Howard is still there, buried deep down beneath the character-persona of The Ghoul.
The Ghoul is drawn to Lucy (platonically, romantically, or some secret third thing), to her goodness and old-world manners just as much as he is disgusted/irritated by them. She's an echo of himself, of Cooper Howard, of who he used to be, and he knows EXACTLY where that gets a person. She's going to get herself killed if she doesn't wise up. With those high-and-mighty, anachronistic principles, that black-and-white worldview, her totally naive misunderstanding of the realities of the Wasteland, she won't last long. And initially he sees her as a pawn, like he was, only good for moving him one step closer to his goal. But then she shows him she can adapt and survive. Not only that, she can be true to her core principles in the process. She can conduct herself with dignity. Lucy reminds him what it was like being the white hat, and shows him that yes, even in this hellscape, there can be heroes. Over 200 yeas, his pragmatism and need to survive sanded away the nuance between Good and Bad. But Lucy makes him reconsider whether maybe there is right and wrong after all, and maybe it actually does matter.
Thus begins his transformation, but the change is not immediate, and this is still the Wasteland. He escapes from The Govermint and goes after Lucy. To do that, he needs to find Moldaver. He tracks down someone who might know where to find her, kills him and accidentally blows a hole through the letter with the key bit of information he needs to find Moldaver. So, he goes to that guy's family to find the man's younger brother, Tommy. When he gets the information he needs, he kills Tommy. He gives Tommy the opportunity to back down, but The Ghoul has a lot of experience and reads Tommy like a book. Tommy is not the kind of kid to let something like this go, and The Ghoul has clearly been burned by leaving vengeful people alive before. Tommy reaches for a gun to shoot The Ghoul, and The Ghoul doesn't hesitate. He blows a hole in the kid. It sucks, but again, this is a decision born from sheer practicality, not love of carnage.
Later, he comes across CX-404 trapped in a Nuka-Cola machine (left there by Thaddeus). The head is lost to both of them now; the dog cannot help The Ghoul with finding it. But he saves her anyway and dubs her Dogmeat. He lets sentimentality get to him for the first time in who knows how long and allows himself to bond with another living being. When he does reach The Observatory (where Moldaver, Lucy, and her dad are), he clearly stashes Dogmeat somewhere to keep her out of harm's way and goes in after Lucy.
After fighting his way through the Brotherhood of Steel, we come to that pivotal scene where Lucy finds out about her father's history. Cooper hangs back to observe and learns that his niggling, hare-brained hunch about Lucy and her last name was correct: she was the daughter of Henry MacLean, a man-out-of-time who presents the first real step in 200 years toward Cooper's ultimate goal: finding his family. (I think it's important to note, however, that he isn't 100% sure of her connection to Hank when follows her to Moldaver's--his reasons for going to the Observatory are either to get information from Moldaver or simply to back Lucy up, should she need help). He lets Hank get away so that he can follow him, and he's willing to follow him alone. But now there's Lucy, who is as wrapped up in this shit as Cooper is (even if she doesn't understand it yet), and he figures they both deserve answers. She's shown that she can adapt to survive, she just needs a teacher. In their first exchange since she left him at the Super Duper Mart, he treats her with new respect and offers her the opportunity to come with him, learn from him, and find out about who she really is and the legacy that has produced her. But perhaps he also knows deep down that he needs to learn from her too. He needs to remember what it was like to be good, to be human. He needs it so he can be it for his daughter when he finds her.
So, yeah, I don't know, it's just interesting how Cooper Howard became essentially lost in method acting a villain to survive the fucking awful conditions he found himself in, but even then he isn't cruel. Like, there are a lot worse things he could have done to Lucy. A LOT WORSE. As far as I can tell, he never looks at or touches her in a creepy, predatory way. Yeah, he drags her around on a leash and cuts her finger off when she bites his off, but that's pretty damn tame for the Wasteland. He secures her with rope, but otherwise is pretty hands off with her. If he objectifies her, it's in an extremely non-sexual way. More of a taking-the-cow-to-market kinda way. Which still sucks, but again, it's not needlessly cruel or wantonly violent, which is pretty impressive given general Wasteland behavior.
He's a damn interesting character, and I'm super stoked to see how he develops--and how he interacts with Lucy going forward.
#fallout show#cooper howard#the ghoul#lucy maclean#long post#character analysis#also#have you guys noticed#Cooper is wearing the same hat shirt and trousers he wore when the bomb dropped??#how has he NOT worn out those clothes after 200 years??#how does he take care of them??#Why does he wear them still?#...do you think it's so that when he does find his daughter#she'll be able to recognize *them* even if she doesn't recognize *him*?
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mitski songs that make me think of reid + a specific lyric
spencer reid is very mitski. but these were the first to come to mind. i do not take criticism.
- working for the knife
honestly, the entire song reminds me of reid, but this in particular:
I always thought the choice was mine
And I was right, but I just chose wrong
I start the day lying and end with the truth
That I'm dying for the knife
- liquid smooth
I'm liquid smooth, come touch me, too
I'm at my highest peak, I'm ripe
About to fall
How I feel this river rushing through my veins
With nowhere else to go, it circles 'round
- class of 2013
Mom, would you wash my back?
This once, and then we can forget
And I'll leave what I'm chasing
For the other girls to pursue
Mom, am I still young?
Can I dream for a few months more?
- i don't smoke
Just don't leave me alone
Wondering where you are
I am stronger than you give me
Credit for
If your hands need to break
More than trinkets in your room
You can lean on my arm
As you break my heart
- abbey
again, the entire song is very reid, but:
I am something
I have been something
I was born something
What could I be?
There is a light that I can see
But only, it seems, when there's darkness in me
There is a dream that I sometimes see
That only appears in the dark of sleep
- i bet on losing dogs
Will you let me, baby, lose
On losing dogs
I know they're losing and I'll pay for my place
By the ring
Where I'll be looking in their eyes when they're down
I wanna feel it
I bet on losing dogs
I always want you when I'm finally fine
- the deal
Then of course, nothing replied, nothing speaks to you in the night
And I walked my way home, there was no one in sight
Save a bird perched upon a streetlight, watchin' me
So, I stopped and let it watch 'til I found that it said
"Now I'm taken, the night has me
You won't hear me singin'
You're a cage without me
Your pain is eased, but you'll never be free for
Now I'm taken, the night has me"
- fireworks
this is perhaps one of the reid-est. here's the particular lyric:
One morning this sadness will fossilize
And I will forget how to cry
I'll keep going to work and you won't see a change
Save perhaps a slight gray in my eye
I will go jogging routinely
Calmly and rhythmically run
And when I find that a knife's sticking out of my side
I'll pull it out without questioning why
- i don't like my mind
again, the entire song is reid, but this is my pick:
I don't like my mind, I don't like being left alone in a room
With all its opinions about the things that I've done
So, yeah, I blast music loud, and I work myself to the bone
And on an inconvenient Christmas, I eat a cake
- first love / late spring
very cliché, but i HAD to include it! here:
And I was so young when I behaved 25
Yet now, I find I've grown into a tall child
And I don't wanna go home
Let me walk to the top of the big night sky
- there's nothing left for you
You could touch fire
You could fly
It was your right
It was your life
And then it passed
To someone new
It'll keep passin' on
Long after you
- nobody
And I don't want your pity
I just want somebody near me
Guess I'm a coward
I just want to feel alright
- because dreaming costs money, my dear
I once lived in the sea
Bring me to your ear, you can hear
The tide where I used to be
Though now I'm but a shell
- a pearl
Sorry, I don't want your touch
It's not that I don't want you
Sorry, I can't take your touch
It's just that I fell in love with a war
Nobody told me it ended
And it left a pearl in my head
And I roll it around every night
Just to watch it glow
Every night, baby, that's where I go
- real men
Real men keep cool in the face of a fire
Go down with the ship
And real men don't eat
'Cause they're above that, damn it
Oh, I'm gonna be a real man
- crack baby
It's been a long, hard 20 year summer vacation
Both these 20 years tryna fill the void
Crack baby, you don't know what you want
But you know that you had it once
And you know that you want it back
Crack baby, you don't know what you want
But you know that you're needing it
And you know that you need it bad
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Moonburn
Prologue
Two of Swords, Reversed: Delays, indecisiveness, extreme dread, anxiety, and stress.
Vampire Hunter!Jake x Witch!OC
Authors Note: Hello!!! This is the start of Jake’s story! I hope y’all like it as much as I do. His side of the story has been in my mind the whole time I’ve been writing ISHIYE and I’ve been itching to share it with you. This is only the prologue but I promise there’s much more to come! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist ❤️
*Set prior to the events of I See Hell in Your Eyes. This is the beginning of Jake’s story. This can be read independently from ISHIYE but there will be cross references as it’s in the same universe.
Word Count: 3,845
Warnings: Brief violence, descriptions of blood, that’s about it for now.
He wasn’t even supposed to be in Tucson, but a blown motor had him stuck there for God-knows how long. The shop he towed his car to didn’t give him much of a time frame, just that they would call him whenever it was fixed. In the meantime, Jake Kiszka had settled in a cheap motel. Well, not extremely cheap, but it was comfortable enough that he knew wouldn’t get scabies from sleeping there.
Nevertheless, he took this as an opportunity to take in the sights of the Grand Canyon state, at the very least Pima county. The sights in question were any local Nests that he could find and snuff out any Undead that were loitering around places they shouldn’t.
The last three days (or nights depending on what species you were), he had been tracking a small group of them that were dumb enough to hang around the same places in the city. Vamps were always easy to spot. Their attempts to blend in with humans were awkward and stilted. Like aliens who had landed on earth the day before and had never seen a human before. That was also how you knew you were dealing with one of the young, and dumb, ones. The older the Vamp was the easier it was for them to blend in. If they’re smart enough to survive past fifty years or so, they usually start adapting to whatever environment they’re in.
It was one of those Vampire details that confused Jake as a kid. How did they forget their humanity so fast? You’re human one day and the next night you’re a blood sucking monster, his dad would tell him. But the idea that it only took a few hours to forget whatever life you had before was almost fascinating to him.
He was always taught that the new ones were practically feral and sloppy, which was how they got picked off so easily. They’d leave bodies behind, risking exposure to the humans who walked around in pure ignorance to the creatures that walked among them.
Sometimes, if you were lucky, you’d catch them before they even claimed their victims. Skulking around in the dark trying to remain unseen but all of their movements looked the same, at least to Jake, which was why he was always able to figure them out faster than his siblings. He was the quiet observant one, always having his eyes on a swivel. His twin was the social one. He could talk his way into any place or establishment that he wasn’t supposed to be in, and he had a particular knack for being able to build a rapport with some of the Vamps they’d be tracking.
It worked even better when they were in parts of the country where the only thing anyone knew of them was their last name, and the weight it carried. Knowing their name was one thing, but knowing their faces was another, and they used that to their advantage. It was also well known that they were identical, but over the years their personal aesthetics had skewed so hard in the opposite directions that they’d have to be side by side to truly see it. Though sometimes the confusion as to who was who worked in their favor.
Jake turned his attention to the horizon from inside the car. Due to a low inventory from a week full of fender benders the rental place only had a Toyota Corolla available on the lot. A silver Corolla from 2006, to be exact. Jake had stared at it for nearly five minutes behind his dark sunglasses, as if he could turn it into literally anything else with his mind. But when the rental agent informed him of the only other option, a burgundy minivan, the hunter agreed and signed the papers for the car through gritted teeth.
There he was, ridding the earth of Hell-borne filth in a clunker with hubcaps.
The sun was peeking over the horizon; the sky turning different shades of pink, yellow. and blue. Jake had a strict rule to not move in on a target until the sun was fully up and visible. “Your shadow is your friend, and your clock no matter what,” his dad would tell him. A hunter never wanted to risk a Vamp having the home field advantage that was the night. Even overcast days were iffy at times.
Once a Vampire laid their head down they, as obvious and cliched it sounded, slept like the dead they were. It was some biological failsafe to protect their species from accidental sunlight exposure. Or at least that's what his walking-encyclopedia of a little brother reminded him along with other scientific facts about the species.
He was parked on the side of the road a blocks-length away from the house he was watching. Vamps were known for their practicality when it came to their Nests. They liked invading houses and squatting in them after they made the residents their evening meal. This particular house was by its lonesome on this road, the nearest house was almost two miles away, which Jake didn’t mind because his plan for the four Vampires he had tracked to this location would be fucking cake.
At last, the sun shined its beautiful rays, warming up the world and preparing it for the day. Jake could almost hear the joke his twin would’ve made about it being a “dry heat” had he been there. His right hand reached to the passenger seat for his crossbow, lifting it slowly with reverence. He kept his gaze fixed on the house as he carefully opened the driver’s side door. He didn’t shut it all the way, just enough to make that first little click in the frame.
As he approached the house he looked at all the windows to see which ones were covered up, a clue as to where in the house they were sleeping. He walked the perimeter a couple of times, going slow to make sure he didn’t miss anything and to let the sun rise even higher.
Rounding the back of the house, Jake went up to the back door. He reached out and gently twisted the doorknob, and it fully turned without protest.
They really were stupid, he thought to himself.
The revelation that the door was unlocked let him know that they were also over confident that they’d be safe during the day time. Jake couldn’t wait to prove them wrong.
He walked into what was the kitchen, before it had been ransacked by the real intruders sleeping elsewhere. Multiple cabinets were flung open, their contents strewn everywhere on counters and the floors. Smears of blood decorated the surfaces and the floors, streaked with what had to be fingerprints.
Going from room to room, he saw similar scenes around the house. He still hadn’t located what he was there for but there was one bedroom at the far end of the house left. The door was slightly ajar, and from his spot in the hallway he could see a window with the curtains firmly drawn. Bingo. They were all in there, soundly asleep. A classic, “shooting fish in a barrel” situation.
Carefully he opened the door further and peaked around the room. This had obviously been the primary bedroom, with a sizable king size bed against the far wall, with two Vamps sprawled out on the duvet, with a third curled up on the carpet at the foot of the bed.
The hunter silently aimed the crossbow at the one on the floor, directly at its chest. At this point it was muscle memory, his finger squeezed around the trigger automatically, shooting the stake right into the Vampire’s heart. His eyes flew open in surprise, but it was too late, the color drained from his skin and it shrunk back against his bones. The usual yellow cast bled into his eyes, and as a final signal that all too familiar death rattle bubbled up from his mouth, a little too loudly for Jake.
At the sound the female Vamp on the bed sat straight up, looking directly at Jake.
“You bastard,” she hissed as she slapped the male Vamp next to her awake. She lunged at Jake knocking the crossbow out of his hands as he tried to shove her off of him. The two rolled around on the floor, battling for control. The hunter managed to get on top of her, straddling her waist as he quickly grabbed a stake from inside his jacket with one hand, and used the other to try to control her hands and keep her pinned down. His reflexes worked perfectly and he was able to shove her arms out of the way fast enough to drive the stake into her chest in a flash. Like the other Vamp before her, she withered in front of his eyes.
Just as her death rattle completed the process the other male Vamp jumped on Jake’s back, straining his neck to nip at Jake’s flesh with his fangs. The hunter nearly growled as he twisted his body to fling the Vamp off of him. He didn’t go very far, but it was enough for Jake to get on his feet and grab another stake from his jacket. The Vamp stood up and lunged at Jake again, this time shoving him against the nearest wall. Jake winced as he was forced backwards and felt the drywall crack; the breath nearly knocked out of him. The stake was pinned between the two, curled in his fist and pointed down at the floor in a useless position.
Jake looked over the feral Vamps shoulder, and realized he was close enough to the corner of the room that he could potentially gain control. With another growl, he used all of his strength to push him away and into the other wall. The Vamp's head bounced back against the wall, and in the nanosecond of delirium Jake was able to tilt his other hand up and ram the stake into the remaining Vamp, directly next to his sternum.
The Vamp sagged against the wall as whatever “life” he had faded away. Jake let him go completely and didn’t care where he landed on the floor. He stepped back and didn’t let his guard down until he was sure they were the only creatures in the house. He ran a hand through his messy hair, wincing when his fingers hit a few tangles and pulled at his scalp. Instead of fighting through them to the ends of his hair, he pulled it back, wanting the feeling to stop instantly. A brief flashback of dirty gnarled fingers twisting into his hair and yanking upwards flashed before his mind’s eye and he shook his head to rid himself of the memory and rubbed his hands quickly over his face.
Jake turned back to his crossbow and strapped it on his back. Now the fun part was about to begin. He looked down at the nearest corpse, the one he had just killed against the wall, and grabbed him by the ankles and started dragging him through the room. He flung the back door open once he got to it, and heaved the Vamp outside and into the sun. The corpse started to sizzle and burn before it hit the dirt. One down, two the go.
He repeated the process until all three were piled on top of each other outside, burning through their clothes and turning their bodies to ashes. As Jake watched the flames, he reached into his jacket again, this time for the celebratory cigar he always brought with him on Nest raids. He brought it to his lips and leaned forward, lighting it using the flames of his latest bounty.
He stood there, and the fire reflected off his dark sunglasses. He took long and slow drags of the cigar, satisfied with his work that morning. For a brief moment he wished his twin had been with him. He didn’t mind doing things on his own, but it always felt a little sweeter to have Josh standing next to him.
Soon enough the three Vampire’s were nothing more than a pile of ashes. Jake found a shovel in the yard, and used it to dig a shallow pit to dump the ashes into. It wasn’t to “bury” them, no, there was no honor in this. Instead it was just a quicker way to quite literally cover up his tracks.
As he drove back to the motel, he couldn’t wait to sleep the day away, satisfied that there were three less bloodsuckers walking around.
~!~
A few days later, he found himself in front of a dive bar just outside of town. The Tipsy Tumbleweed stood before him, its red lighted sign blazed into the dark of the parking lot. A few of the letters blinked, indicating some of the bulbs were on their last legs.
The heels of his boots clacked against the wooden floor inside, and the idle chatter amongst other patrons met his ears. He loved a good bar like this. Understated, knew exactly what it was, and didn’t try to be anything more. The walls were covered in various purple neon signs, the biggest one was on the wall behind the bar itself, with large letters spelling out: Sinners Welcome. Yeah, he was going to enjoy himself tonight.
Just as he sat on an empty barstool, a loud and melodious laugh floated through the air behind him. He nearly broke his neck to look at the source, and that was when he saw…her.
Her back was to him, her dark jeans and black t-shirt wrapped around her curves beautifully, her dark hair tied up in a ponytail but was long enough that the ends fell between her shoulder blades. She was standing in front of one of the booths against the far wall, chatting with the two people who sat on either side.
He couldn’t see her face yet, and everything in his body told him to sit fucking still so he could possibly get a glimpse of it. He barely registered the young voice of the bartender asking him for his order. He kept his eyes set on the mysterious woman while he quickly mumbled something about a whiskey. He wasn’t normally that rude but as the bartender went off to make his drink she finally turned around and started walking towards him. Her large hazel eyes scanned the room as she walked and she waved at one of the tables, telling who-ever-the-fuck hi. The same dark hair framed her face in some loose layers and when she flashed a smile at someone else, Jake nearly fell off the stool. He suddenly felt like he was back in sixth grade, when Abbie Willis picked him for her kickball team in P.E. and he tripped over absolutely nothing while walking over to her. Josh never let him live that down.
For a moment, Jake thought she was walking towards him, but she breezed right past him to exit through the Employees Only door. He turned on the stool to face the bar, hoping to god that the heat in his face wasn’t obvious. Instead, he made the most awkward eye contact with the bartender who was placing his drink in front of him. She was a tiny thing, definitely shorter than him with sharp cheekbones and curious round eyes. She couldn’t have been older than 21.
“Umm…thanks,” he said, trying his best to recover from whatever that was.
“You're welcome, I’m Stacey if you need anything else,” she said brightly before turning to walk to the far end of the bar, where another man was sitting at the corner.
Jake’s eyes followed her and silently observed that side of the bar, taking in everything. Part of him wanted to turn around and watch that Employee door in hopes that she would come back out, but he didn’t want a repeat of what just happened.
He took a sip of his drink while he observed, but just as he started to relax the man at the end of the bar tilted his lowball glass back to take his own sip, and one of the lights on the other side shined through the glass and displayed the…red…contents. It wasn’t runny, it wasn’t grenadine, it was blood.
Did he sneak that in here? Jake had obviously seen Vampire’s drink from glasses before, they could be formal when they wanted to, but out in the open like this? That was ballsy as hell.
A drop escaped the glass and landed on the corner of the man’s, well, Vampire’s mouth and his tongue darted out to catch it. The bartender Jake now knew as Stacey was just standing there, chatting away as if she hadn’t even seen it. The hunter immediately thought that the Vampire had Persuaded this young girl into not noticing, and if he was already doing that, what else was he planning to do?
Jake immediately shifted into hunter-mode, his casual evening cut short by duty calling. He sat there, listening as best he could over the loud music and crowd noise. Soon his glass was empty, and as Stacey walked back by he got her attention and she stopped in front of him.
He ordered another whiskey, but before she could hop off to make it he asked her a question, “hey umm…who's that down there?” He tilted his head slightly in the Vampire’s direction.
A sheepish smile spread across her face, “oh…that’s Lou. He’s in here a lot.” Even in the dim lighting Jake could see the color rush to her cheeks when she said Lou’s name.
A regular Vampire, huh, not for much longer, Jake thought.
He opened his mouth to ask another question but Stacey’s eyes suddenly went wide and she darted off to the Employee door without another word. He vaguely heard her say the name, “Cecilia” as she exited but he wasn’t sure.
Jake sat there confused as to what spooked her so quickly, and he stole another glance at “Lou” the Vampire.
“So, another whiskey for you?” A smoky voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
Jake whipped his head back to the direction of the voice and suddenly, she was in front of him. He gaped at her, once again reverting back to his awkward prepubescent self. All he could do was nod like an idiot. A new glass was placed in front of him, the amber liquid perfectly poured.
“This one’s on the house,” she said as she leaned against her hands on the edge of the bar. The motion made her collar bones visible just beneath the scooped-neck of her t-shirt. Fuck.
“O-oh you don’t have to-”
“Nonsense, I like giving out a free drink once and awhile, especially to new faces. I even top shelved it for you,” her lips formed a smile and she tilted her head at him, as if she already knew the effect she had on him.
He took a sip, savoring the liquor on his tongue before swallowing. Perfectly smooth.
“Now, what are you doing here,” she asked, a little less friendly than before.
The question threw him off, why would she ask that?
“Just checking out local places while I’m in town,” he answered with a level tone as he took another swig of his drink.
“Hmm…yeah but what were you doing just a couple minutes ago?”
He looked at her strangely, “just sitting here?” As soon as the words left his mouth, he felt his throat tighten up out of nowhere. What the fuck?
“Uh-huh, just sitting here? Not scoping out the place?”
“No? Why would I-,” his throat tightened up even more, making it harder to breathe. Jake struggled to take in a breath as he gripped the glass in front of him.
“You do know where you’re sitting, right?” She leaned even closer to him, lowering her voice.
“At a bar…?” That was the truth, partially, but he didn’t know where she was going with this.
She smirked at him, “oh I guess you didn’t notice that this bar happens to be next to a cemetery?”
Cemeteries were probably one of the few truly neutral places you could be. Neutral in the sense that creatures knew better than to start trouble in them, and hunters were lumped into that protocol as well. They were their own liminal space with their own rules, and Jake remembered Sam rambling about the spirits that reside in them did not take kindly to truces being broken on their land. If Jake had actually killed the Vampire at the end of the bar, it would not be pretty for him once the spirits figured out what happened. If the woman in front of him knew this rule, then what was she?
“Fuck,” he rasped.
“Yeah, fuck is right. So what is a hunter like you coming into my bar where we mind our own business and coexist as best we can?” Irritation was evident in her voice.
This was her bar? Oh, he really fucked up.
“Listen I wasn’t trying to start anything,” he tried to explain but his words had his throat nearly closed completely.
“Sure you weren’t,” she reached into her back pocket and pulled out a small vial full of pale green liquid. She held it up in front of him, “sir you look very…purple…are you feeling alright?”
He stared at the vile in her hand, and he wasn’t sure if he was connecting the dots or just seeing them, but he tried to whisper a guess.
“W-witch..?”
“Oh nothing gets past you,” she mocked. “And yes, I am, thank you for asking.”
At this point all he could do was wheeze at her.
“Now, I can reverse that little concoction you happily drank, but only on one condition.”
His big brown eyes started watering and he nodded.
She twisted off the cap of the vial and slowly poured the contents into Jake’s glass as she spoke, “you have two minutes to get out of my bar before I get that Werewolf in the corner to throw you out.”
Jake quickly drank down the whole glass as best he could, oxygen finally entering his system as his throat loosened back up.
“S-sorry…” he whispered.
“If you ever come back here and try that shit again, it’ll be a lot worse. Now go,” her voice was final, and she flicked her eyes over his shoulder and at the door.
Jake didn’t hesitate to slide off the barstool and walk right out, not looking back even though he wanted to.
As he drove back to the motel, all he could think about was the Witch that just nearly killed him, and how her eyes bore into his, and for once in his life, Jake Kiszka was the one intimidated and outmatched.
To be continued…
Tag List: @dannyandthekiszkas , @readyforthegarden , @sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine , @wideminded-dreamer , @runwayblues , @wildbluesorbit , @llightmyllovee , @rhythm-of-space , @sacredthefran , @writingcold , @alwaysonthemend , @wetkleenex-gvf , @josh-iamyour-mama , @lightsofthe-living-gvf , @gvfcinema , @sacredthethreadgvf , @losfacedevil , @jakekiszkasbuttsweat , @shutupdevvie , @hearts-hunger , @gretavanfleetposts , @ascendingtostardust , @mackalah , @andromeda-raine-gvf , @jake-kiszkas-smirk , @gracev0609 , @sacredjake , @earthlysorrows , @gvfpal , @myownparadise96 , @itsafullmoon , @gvfmelbourne, @twistedmelodies , @that-witchy-pan , @gold-mines-melting , @texas-bbq-pringles , @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface , @sadiechar , @char289 , @stardustvanfleet , @sunfl0wer-power , @holdingup-fallingsky , @bladenotblaze , @gretavanlace ,
#jake kiszka#jake kiszka x oc#moonburn#strangers to lovers#starcrossed but they don't know it#angst#hurt/comfort#themes of PTSD#lingering guilt#parental issues#abandonment issues#and just two broken people trying to figure the fuck out of life#greta van fleet#jake gvf#my fics#my writing#🌙🔥
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Hii i wanted to share my thoughts on the soulmate for Oisín Sanji if thats alright
I voted for Zoro myself (even thought honestly they would all be sweet/funny) but i think the situation with Zoro is the funniest like-
imagine all your life till this point youve been training the be the greatest swordsman of them all and you has your eyes set on this one guy all this time and also in the back of your head youre aware he has a kid thats around your age (based on the wanted posters when they stopped updating) and you see it as someone to help you get closer to your end goal
Que you becoming a pirate and later meeting this pretty asshole of a cook who you quickly become head over heels for when he shows his spark when fighting, he's your equal and you havent had that since your best friend died
And then you find out he is the kid of your rival but somehow instead of it being heartbreaking it only makes it better because even in the time you didnt know, he takes care of your swords with so much love and care, he helps you get a proper swordsman diet like he has done it a thousand times already and- he has a swordsmans soulmate mark!!!
Idk i just think zosan for this would be very funny but at the same time very sweet (love sick Zorooo 💥💥 he loves his spicy boy friend)
But i also think it would give mihawk a giant headache so thats also funny
No, no I get it. Trust me. It is the funniest option but also gives Mihawk the largest headache-especially if Zoro never connects the dots fully until they meet up on Karai Bari. BUT BEFORE THAT???
Zoro who hasn't had a decent match since Kuina died. He's had his eyes set on Hawkeye since he was a kid and joined the dojo and wanted to be the best since. Not because Hawkeye was the best then-he wasn't but everyone knew he would be and he had a kid around his age and the kid has a twirly brow with a dumb name. Then the posters stop updating and Hawkeye becomes a warlord then Kuina dies. He takes Wado and leaves to fulfill his and Kuina's dreams. He becomes a bounty hunter because he needs the money and the roads and islands keep moving on him. He keeps his eyes out for the guy around his age who could be Mihawk's kid. Then he gets tied up in a marine base and is freed by a guy who wants him to become a pirate. He agrees. They get a crew, a navigator and then a liar/sharpshooter and when they get to this fish restuarant? Sure he loses to Mihawk and gets bisected and the prettiest guy he ever saw is yelling at him to give up his dream but he doesn't die. It's fine, it's fine~. He's alive and the blond guy is hot and he can kick ass and he doesn't use swords.
Also the blond guy's name is Sanji and Zoro doesn't use his name at all. He is whatever nickname Zoro calls him in that moment. He's an equal and Zoro tells him all about his plans to find Hawkeye's kid when it's time for a rematch and draw him out to a duel, twirly always laughs at him for it, keeps saying it's a one way ticket to dying. He says it with a dopey smile though. He cares for Zoro's swords when he's on bedrest and isn't allowed to move, doing so anyway despite Chopper's protests. Also they know they're so soulmates, Zoro's whole back covered in blue and fish. Sanji's shoulder braided like the hilt of Wado Ichimonji and just as beautiful. Zoro wishes he knew what Oisín's soulmark looks like because it would be so much easier to find him.
After Sabaody when he's on Kuriagana and wishing he could have been there for his captain but he's training against his dream, with the man who holds his dream and it's good. Even if ghost girl is there and he's away from his soulmate. When he asks Mihawk where his kid is and Perona is curious because he never came to warlord meetings with the kid. Mihawk is like 'yes, that was part of the deal I made becoming a warlord, they would stop updating his bounties. As for his current location, no idea.' because he has his own dream and he's not taking his father's mantle, doesn't want it. Zoro yells that he's no help and Mihawk asks if he wants to follow suit of the people who tried to take his son before him, just because he's stronger doesn't mean he's strong enough yet. Zoro takes massive offense to this.
When they get back together and are leaving Sabaody Zoro is absolutely complaining about this to Sanji despite saying he's stronger and Sanji is laughing his ass off again. Sanji points out that Zoro seems to be overlooking the fact the kid was raised by Mihawk and Zoro grumbles and just buries into his side. Of course after WCI and Wano Sanji is prickly, even to his soulmate, even after the death pact. Zoro is absolutely never letting Sanji out of his sight again so when they go meet Mihawk and the rest of the Guild on Karai Bari the crew is nervous. Except for the monster trio and Robin.
At some point either Mihawk or Sanji slip up, it's just habit as they cook together on the Sunny since Mihawk is the only one to get along with the Straw Hat pirates. They're chatting idly and the crew is there just to make sure and Sanji points at something and is like 'hand the salt over, dad' and Mihawk just hands it over 'Oisín, you're an adult, really?' before they both pause and sigh. The crew is absolutely losing it in different ways. Nami is pissed that Mihawk wasn't there for WCI, Zoro is pissed that Sanji hid being Oisín, Luffy is laughing really fucking hard and asking Zoro how he didn't know, Chopper and Usopp are despairing. Robin hums and asks Mihawk if he knew Zoro was Sanji's soulmate and Mihawk sighs long and loud and Sanji asks if Zoro was telling him the same shit he was telling him for their whole relationship, Mihawk says yes and that Zoro is a fucking moron.
Do I also have something utterly heart breaking and wrenching for acesan in Oisín!sanji? Yes. Was this fun to write? Yes.
#black leg sanji#roronoa zoro#vinsmoke sanji#zosan#answers#zoro roronoa#sanzo#hawkeye mihawk#dracule mihawk#oisín!sanji#single dad!mihawk#soulmate au
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