#seeing him happy by himself when he first set off on his own to find the reishi mushrooms was so bittersweet
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I just wanna see that smile
wc: 1.1k | tags: canon-compliant injury/recovery, hospital setting, getting together, (brief and inferred mutual) pining, first kiss
a/n: happy (belated) birthday to my pal, @firefly-party! kei drew this piece last year and it was one of the first artworks we talked about when we became friends. this series has continued to live in my brain ever since, so I decided to write a little something in the universe!
Eddie woke up on March 26th, 1986 and Steve’s waited patiently for this moment ever since.
Well, patient is a misnomer— he’d waited quietly to anyone not named Robin or Dustin. Robin, because she knows him too well and there’s no point in trying to hide anything from her and Dustin, because he’d apparently grown up overnight and pieced together that Steve sitting at Eddie’s bedside and holding his fucking hand every time he waltzed into the room meant something.
Or maybe it was when Steve gave Eddie all of his rings back, sliding them carefully onto his shaking fingers with a comforting smile.
Or maybe when Eddie sat up unassisted for the first time and Steve nearly hit the ceiling, bracing him in a panic as if all of his stitches and staples would burst with the tiny movement he’d been working toward in physical therapy.
Hell, maybe it was Steve taking over some of Eddie’s care for himself, washing his hair and braiding it because the staff at Hawkins Memorial are doing nothing more than the bare minimum to make sure they don’t get sued, or even more frightening, reamed out by the new duo of Hopper and Wayne again. Either way, his hair was making Steve’s own scalp itchy.
Dustin never tells Steve what it was exactly that tipped him off but whatever it was, it’s enough for Dustin to give Steve the floor when Eddie’s getting ready to discharge back home. And that’s how, exactly two months later to the day from Eddie waking up, Steve enters Eddie’s otherwise empty room armed with a special treat in the form of milkshakes to find Eddie pouring over an unfortunately familiar stack of papers.
“NDA?” Steve asks, nodding at the papers in Eddie’s lap. He’s upright, fully dressed in the black sweatpants Jeff brought by and a cut off Metallica tee shirt, bandages around his stomach and neck.
Eddie mutters as he reads under his breath, eyes flitting across the page.
“How the fuck do they expect any of us common folk to understand a fucking word of this? Hereby? Wherein? Hitherto? What fucking year did I wake up in, man?”
“Yeah, I think the whole point is that you don’t read what you’re signing but I’ll let you in on a little secret.” Steve huffs a small laugh through his nose as he steps carefully around Eddie’s crutches. “You may as well just sign it because if you don’t, they’ll forge it anyway. Now finish signing your life rights away so you can have this milkshake with me.”
Eddie perks up, looking away from the mess of papers and smiling up at Steve with a smile so genuine, it punches the air out of his lungs. He keeps looking at him like this, like Steve’s a breath of fresh air, like he's someone Eddie wants to have around.
Steve isn’t sure what to do with that look yet, but he’s sure glad it’s there.
“Celebration milkshakes? Is this a freedom gift?” Eddie signs the NDA quickly and sets the pen down on the bed next to him.
“It sure is. Figured this could make up for all those lame popsicles from the cafeteria.”
The mattress creaks as Steve sits down on the edge, just to the side of the railing, and hands Eddie the strawberry treat. Their fingers graze, Steve’s chilled and Eddie’s warm. His hand is still a little shaky, trembling as he takes hold of the cup, but they’re warm and warm means alive.
Eddie’s hand can tremble for the rest of his goddamn life so long as it’s always warm.
They each take a sip, smooth ice cream slurping up their straws, and after a moment, Eddie sighs.
“Is it weird that I’m actually sort of worried about leaving?”
Steve’s eyebrows knit together, looking down at Eddie’s rings glinting beneath the offensive fluorescent lights above them.
“What are you worried about?”
“Uh, well, I did almost die. And the town still wishes I did. It’s a lot easier to make those dreams a reality outside of these walls, y’know? And I’m uh…” Steve watches as Eddie takes a breath and Steve suddenly misses the early days when Eddie was connected to the heart rate monitor.
“You’re…?” Steve presses, sipping his milkshake again to appear casual.
“I see you all the time here. Guess I just don’t want that to change.”
Steve’s heart skips a beat, clattering in his chest and pounding at his ribs, desperately trying to crack him right open and run to the man who’s claimed it. Eddie watches him with cautious eyes, opens his mouth to say something else but Steve cuts him off before he can take it back.
“Why do you think that’d change? Forest Hills is a lot closer than this shithole, and you won’t be kept under lock and key. And as for the first thing, well, Wayne and Nancy have a lot in common and I have a bat loaded up with nails in the trunk of my car.” Steve rests his free hand on Eddie’s knee. “No one's gonna fuck with you. Don’t worry about that.”
“You sound a little cocky there, Stevie.” Eddie lifts one eyebrow, glancing from Steve’s hand up to his eyes. “Ready to fight for my honor or something?”
“Yep.”
He hadn’t brought the milkshakes intending to use them as props, but he’s glad he has something to do to fill the space as Eddie watches him with questioning eyes. As he slurps through the straw, grating noise still preferable over the awkward silence, Eddie’s pinched expression turns softer, realization dawning between the stark white walls of the hospital and the pink ice cream in both of their hands.
“You’re serious.” Eddie says.
“Took you that long to figure that out?” Steve teases.
“I’ve been a little busy with learning how to breathe and walk again. Y’know, just little things.” Eddie rolls his eyes with that same fond smile, free hand lacing its fingers through Steve’s. “So what you’re saying is that I’ll see you just as much outside of this prison as I have inside of it?”
Steve shrugs. “Probably even more, honestly. There are no visiting hours at Wayne’s, and it’s not like I have a job to rush off to these days. You’re stuck with me, Ed. At least for as long as you want me around.”
Eddie snorts, unceremoniously scoffing in Steve’s face as if in disbelief.
“Don’t make promises like that. What happens when I never want you to leave?”
The air shifts, growing heavier as they find themselves leaning closer, two satellites orbiting one another by nothing but gravitational pull.
Steve’s not sure who actually closes the gap, but he finds himself with his lips pressed against Eddie’s— sweet, chilled, a little chapped but smiling against his. Months of waiting, of hoping that he’d get this opportunity, come to a deafening crescendo and it takes all of his discipline to not push. Instead, they pull apart and Steve smiles, tucking loose hair behind Eddie’s ear.
“That’s easy. I’d just never leave.”
fun fact: kei, I wrote your birthday down in my calendar as the 28th for some reason, a solid ten days late, so know that this was planned from the get-go but was just a tad bit late.
#steddie#steddie fic#steddie fanfic#steddie fanfiction#steve harrington x eddie munson#eddie munson x steve harrington#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#stranger things fic#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fanfiction#myblurbs
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What would SKZ be as an overprotective baby brother to his older sister - will he show her off but ban his members from interacting with her, will the fact that she is older than all of them be the reason he 'hides' her from his members, will he just be happy that she's happy?
I like this concept so I turned it into a little drabble!
Thank you for your request! Hopefully I did it justice and you enjoy 💕
Dearest Little Brother - OT8! SKZ
Masterlist
Warnings: None
Chan He is very proud that you are his older sister so of course he’d show you off to his members, but he’s very protective over you. If one of his members ever showed interest in you romantically he would nip it in the bud. There’s no way he would allow any of the boys to pursue you. Chan thinks you deserve the absolute best and if he has to hand pick them himself then so be it.
Minho Doesn’t tell the others at first that he has an older sister. In some ways he’s a little envious of you because whenever you step into a room all attention is on you. It’s no different when the other boys eventually find out about you. Of course they’re absolutely enthralled with your presence, but your little brother, Minho is sulking in the corner. You’re his sister, not theirs. If he had it his way you would be home and under the radar.
Changbin Absolutely over the moon to show off his older sister to the members. You and Binnie had a great sibling relationship growing up and he would love nothing more than to share such an amazing person in his life with his group. You can’t come around much, but when you do, Changbin is the first one in line to parade you around.
Hyunjin Although he loved you as his big sister, he didn’t want the other boys chasing after you. He was extra cautious when you came around for practice or to the dorms, side-eyeing any of the boys that even dared to talk to you. He’d even go as far as stepping in between you and Chan when he came to you for a hug. Everyone knows Chan is a hugger and means nothing romantic by it, but Hyunjin was taking no chances.
Han Doesn’t mind that his members are actually pretty fond of you. You’re his older sister, who wouldn’t be? But Han is honestly a bit clueless of some of their advances towards you sometimes. The other boys don’t mean it seriously, it’s more of a tease, but it doesn’t work when Han pretty much has a question mark above his head whenever you tell him that Minho was blatantly flirting with you.
Felix Lowkey tries to set you up with one of his hyungs. He thinks one of them Changbin would be perfect for you. However, you aren’t all that interested in any of the boys. You see all of them as an extension of your little brother, Felix, and much prefer to keep it that way. That doesn’t necessarily stop them from trying though.
Seungmin Yes, he’s your younger brother and he loves you, but couldn’t care less about your relationship with the members. You are your own person and he totally respects that. Plus he knows his boys wouldn’t do anything to wrong or hurt you. You’re all practically family.
Jeongin The biggest overprotective little brother there is. He would introduce you to the other members but make it crystal clear that they are not to contact you without letting him know first. You and I.N come from a conservative family and he knows the boys can get a little cantankerous.
Taglist: @doitforbangchan / @jehhskz
#stray kids#request#requests open#skz#bang chan#changbin#hyunjin#seungmin#yang jeongin#han jisung#lee felix#lee know#minho#little brother stray kids
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❝i am half-agony, half-hope. . . i have loved none but you.❞
summary: how the marauders loved you in their time. featuring harry potter the time-traveller and sixth-wheel.
pairing/s: poly!marauders x reader. (james potter x reader, lily evans x reader, remus lupin x reader, and sirius black x reader.)
tags: reader is referred to as she/her and a mother throughout the whole fic[!], reader is a violent gremlin who craves blood but the marauders love you for that, implied child abuse[!], mentions of blood and violence[!], disgustingly sappy poetic fluff, no angst, happy ending, not proofread we die like finnick odair, edited: very minor detail.
note: there is little plot, it’s just the marauders and their adoration for you. thank you all so much for your kind responses to my first marauders fic :(( ilysm! i hope you enjoy this one as well! because there are parts when i was writing that i ended up kicking my feet in the air and smiling to myself.
“MY NAME IS HARRY POTTER. I come from twenty-years in the future, you’re my mum — one of my ‘em, actually. It’s complicated. And you’re married to James Potter, Remus Lupin, and Sirius Black.”
You blink.
“Get the fuck out of my room!”
Harry James Potter has dodged many things in his life. Killing curses, jinxes, girls, Draco Malfoy, and Dudley’s sloppy punches, but he’s never had to dodge his sixteen-year-old mother’s fuzzy slipper before. (Godric, that sounds weird, even in his head.) He doesn’t know precisely how he arrived here. In the Slytherin common room, to be exact, in your dorm. Harry remembers duelling with Death Eaters, Hermione calling his name, and a flash of light hitting him square in the chest, then he remembers waking up in the cold tiles of the snake dungeon. He nearly throws himself off the window when he meets your eyes, bleary from interrupted sleep — it’s not often he gets to meet [read: one of] his dead parents, after all, three had been brutally murdered by Voldemort, and one killed by his own loony cousin. He misses Sirius, though. A lot. And right about now, he could do with some of Hermione’s nagging and brilliant plan-making.
At present — or past, Harry guesses — he watches you scramble out from your duvet, hand clumsily reaching for your wand as you snarl at him. He wonders if his mother knows that he’s encountered other creatures far more threatening than her. Oh shit, he realizes with all the forces of an angry Hermione Granger, isn’t this the last thing he’s supposed to do? But, well, Harry has given, and given, so much of himself all for the greater good — just this once, he’d like to see his parents alive and well. Even if they were currently trying to blast him into the walls.
“If you’d just let me explain, mum—!” Harry pleads, nearly dropping his glasses after dodging one of your stinging hexes. Godric, you’re crazy. “Please!”
“Stop calling me that!” You screech, eyes set ablaze. Harry finds that you’re quite dynamic with your attacks. A hairbrush, followed by a stinging jinx, then a thick History of Magic textbook — which rudely hits him in the face, but he doesn’t dare complain because you’re his mother, and he’s respectful like that — and after you’ve exhausted your breath, running him into a corner, and your nostrils flare with the stubbornness of a lion, you point the tip of your wand at him. “If this is another one of the Prewett’s shitty pranks, I want you to leave! You are in the girls’ dormitory beyond midnight, and so help me, if you aren’t walking out that door in the next five seconds, I will kill you and string you up by your bottoms for everyone in school to see! Maybe all your stupid rumours of me being a Death-Eater might come true after all!”
“You’re a Death-Eater?” Harry asks dumbly.
You growl furiously, and Harry figures that was not the right thing to say. “I wonder what McGonagall would say if I delivered your head to her on a silver platter.”
“Professor,” Harry corrects with a toothy grin. “Professor McGonagall.”
You slam his head against the wall.
Definitely the wrong thing to say.
Harry groans, little Dobby heads floating around his vision. Why was this so much harder than actually facing Voldemort? Quick, he needed to think of something, otherwise he’d end up eviscerated to ashes on your cold, stone floors. Harry is pretty sure you’d use his remains as decoration to send off a message to your enemies.
“You hate your father,” Harry slurs through the pain, remembering Remus’s stories of how you were the gentlest magical being he’s ever had the privilege to love — now that Harry thinks about it, Remus was being extremely biased, nothing about you is gentle at all. “He’s forcing you to marry someone old enough to be your grandfather. You love to read Muggle literature but had to stop when your father burnt your whole collection of books. Your favorite novel is Persuasion by Jane Austen. It’s the one book you carry with you everywhere, you could never get tired of it.”
Your grip on his shoulders falters, but the fury in your eyes crackles. “This isn’t funny.”
“It’s not meant to be funny, mum,” Harry croaks, voice cracking pathetically — strange how this is the most he’s ever uttered the word, mum; it’s a peculiar string of letters, foreign on his tongue. “You have tremors in your left leg from when your father cast the Cruciatus curse on you. One of your dearest friends is a Hogwarts house-elf named Pipley. You cheated on your Transfiguration essay once, and—”
“That’s enough!” You bark, eyes narrowed in dangerous slits. “I don’t know where you heard those from, you creepy, little stalker, but if you want to keep breathing, then I suggest you shut up.”
Harry scoffs — you don’t understand. Everything he’s learned about you is from Sirius and Remus. They talk about you with whispered devotion, your name like a prayer on their lips, their eyes glazed with wistfulness as though they could see you reaching out for them — but you were dead in Harry’s time. Yet, you might as well have been alive with their tales of you.
(“She’s a different kind of beautiful,” Sirius had said, a year after breaking out from Azkaban, sitting by the fire in Grimmauld Place, taking a swig of decade-old firewhiskey, “The kind of beautiful you don’t want to take your eyes off from because you’re afraid she’ll disappear from your eyes. But you won’t forget her, oh no, you’ll memorize the freckles and moles on her skin, the scars from her years, the light in her eyes, and the way she holds her head up high. You should have seen her, James, she. . . she was — is glorious.”)
“I told you,” says Harry firmly — although he loves his mother very much, she’s beginning to wear him out, “My name is Harry James Potter, I come from twenty-years in the future. You are one of my parents.” A lightbulb flashes in his head. He squirms in your hold, reaching for his robe pocket until he finds the thing he’s looking for. Harry dangles the ring in front of you, grinning in success when your eyes flash in recognition. “It’s—”
“A family heirloom,” You say breathlessly. The alexandrite winks under the light, a familiar gold band with the Latin inscription of your House words. “Where did you steal this from?”
Harry rolls his eyes. “You left it for me in my Gringotts vault. It’s my heirloom now. You have to believe me, there’s no way you can deny this.”
You take a step backwards, nibbling on your lower lip, as you stagger to your bed — Harry nearly stumbling to catch you in case you fell; adjusting to the living proof of time travel was quite difficult, he, of all people, should know. He exhales, dragging a hand down his face. “Magic, amirite?”
You throw a pillow at him, which he catches gracefully thanks to his Seeker reflexes, as you plop down in the comforts of your quilts. “Sleep. The other girls won’t be back until the end of the holiday. We can deal with whatever this is in the morning. It’s way too early for me to process the idea of a future Potter spawn following me around.”
Harry smiles. “Yes, mum.”
ONE THING THAT his fathers failed to tell him about you, and that Harry had to learn himself, was that you took ages to get ready. You sat on the chair in front of your vanity mirror, the birch wood legs whittled with snakes, and it was as though you had a Sticking Charm on the cushion. Harry didn’t know there could be so many creams, oils, and serums, and powders one put on their face. He blanches when you turn to offer him a cream for his under eyes. (“Suit yourself.” You shrug, turning to brush your cheek with dusts of pink. “Just saying, those dark circles aren’t doing you any favors.”)
“What am I like in the future?” You ask, a kind lilt to your voice, much like a warm hug, much like home.
Harry stiffens, shoving his hands in pockets of the robes that were twice his size — you had given him the garments of Lucius Malfoy to change in, which you apparently had stolen from his room. It’s come full circle, really, the Sorting Hat had once told him he would be great in Slytherin, and now here he was, looking fabulous in green — because he was about to hurl at the feel of the velvet on his skin, knowing slimy Lucius Malfoy had worn it. (“No son—” You pause with a tight purse in your lips, as if you still can’t accept the fact. Harry doesn’t blame you. “—no son of mine will be parading around in red of all colors, future or not.” And Harry finds that he really doesn’t care, so long as you call him your son.)
“Loved,” replies Harry gruffly, avoiding your eyes in the reflection of your mirror — they were piercing. One look and Harry wanted to spill all of his deepest, darkest secrets. He remembers the photographs in his album, the one he’s stared at so many times as a child. It’s a moving photograph of the five of you, fresh out of Hogwarts, each wearing a smile that stretched from ear-to-ear. Before Sirius and Remus, it was the only semblance of proof that Harry had — that you had once been alive. Remus is holding you by the waist in the picture, twirling you around as autumn leaves fell. You were — are — loved, and Harry thinks there’s no better description than that.
(“I bloody hated her cat,” says Remus with a roguish quirk to his lips, regalling Harry with more talks of his parents. “Sirius, too. We just never got along with the little creature. But your mother loved it, and we would have done anything to make her happy. She deserved it, you see. She deserved more than what I had to offer her, but still she chose me anyway. And I am a selfish man, Harry, I crave glimpses of her and the whispers of her voice. She has made me a mad man whose only reprieve is her touch.”)
You hum knowingly. “Stupid question, I guess. Since you aren’t allowed to reveal anything more about the future.” You sigh, gracefully threading your arms in the sleeves of your shirt, a green tie in the center of your collar. “Except, of course, when you gave me a heart attack in the middle of the night by telling me the last thing I want to become — no offense, I just don’t see how a relationship with those rowdy bunch would work. They get on my nerves far too much for me to ever feel anything other than disgust.”
Harry doesn’t need a mirror to see that his expression has contorted in confusion; brows knitted and upper lip crinkled. By their memories of you, you all were madly in love in Hogwarts. Damn. This just made his trip to the past a lot harder. No maze seems to be ever just a maze.
Luckily, you don’t notice him brewing a grand master plan to bring his parents together. Instead, you say, “But you don’t seem to be phased by any of this. If I had been thrown twenty years into the past, I would have puked my guts out twice at some point.”
“Thanks for the image,” says Harry with a scowl. Truthfully, it had either been a present with a noseless Dark Lord to face, trauma to unpack but really never have the chance to, or a past where all of his parents were alive, and a chance to talk with them for however long he has. He knows where he’ll be staying, thank you very much.
“Anytime,” You reply with an impish smile.
Your heels pad across the floor as you walk over to him, mouth clicking as you pat the top of his head, full of wild, untameable Potter hair. “You need a trim soon,” You mutter, frowning, as you brush the thick strands away from his eyes, then you gasp — and Harry knows exactly what’s coming next. “Oh, you’ve got Evans’s eyes. That’s freaky.”
“I know.” Harry grins.
“Here’s the plan,” You say as you lead him out of your room, making sure no one saw him walking out of your door and getting the wrong impression — because that would be so wrong on many levels, but also, explaining to someone else that the person beside you was a time-traveller was just complicated in general. The Slytherin dungeon is unfamiliarly familiar, eerily quiet, as the two of you made your way out. “Just say you’re Potter’s distant relative, twice or thrice removed, and you’ve always been here. If you lie to their faces enough, they’ll believe it eventually.”
“Will that work?” Harry doesn’t really mind — he needs a connection to James, his father, if he’s going to work out a connection between you and the others, because at the moment, it doesn’t seem like you’re too fond of them. There’s a tick on your jaw every time you mumble the word, Potter. Nevertheless, Harry decides he’s going to spend the duration of the holiday break trying to set you up with them — on the list of most insane things he’s ever done, living out the Parent Trap was high up the tally.
You shrug. “They’ve fallen for less.”
(“She’s got this adorable habit when she lies,” Sirius tells Harry, whipping up a stack of pancakes for their breakfast — Remus browsing through the morning paper. It’s the closest he’s ever been to a normal family. “It’s not obvious to her, of course, but I know her more than I know my own name. So we play along with it.” For a moment, he stops drizzling the maple syrup on the well-cooked batter, gazing at Remus fondly. “D’you remember that, Moony? She led us straight to one of her pranks, and we ended up covered in slug slime. She was so obvious — with her adorable fucking giggles. I need help with Charms, she said, and we knew right away it was a set-up. But it didn’t matter. I’d happily let her lead me to my ruin.”)
The Great Hall is the same as Harry remembers. Now that most have returned home for the holidays, those who stay back mingle with students from other Houses, sharing meals under the bewitched ceiling, their low murmurs and hushed Christmas greetings bouncing off the walls. Harry scours the four tables to find a hint of blazing red hair, or the scent of impending trouble. Fortunately, he doesn’t have to search very far. As fate would have it, James Potter finds you — and where he is, Sirius Black is sure to follow.
You’re barely seated when James comes bounding over to your table — more precisely, he struts, and Harry is horrified to ever be proven wrong by Snape, of all people. He ignores the roll of your eyes as he drags a leg over the bench, sitting to face you as Sirius occupies the space to your left before Harry can even sit down. He can’t even fathom how weird it is to see his parents as rambunctious teenagers. Lovesick, rambunctious teenagers.
“Morning, dove.” James preens under your glare, stealing a grape from your bowl with a boyish smirk. His hair looks as though he’s ran his hand through it many times. “You look ravishing today.”
“As always,” Sirius pipes in. “But that eyeshadow really isn’t complementing your skin tone, my darling.”
You smile at him, right before your lips twist into a cutthroat sneer. “Piss off, Black.”
James stifles a laugh as he shovels a mass of potatoes on your plate, then pumpkin pasties, and slides a steaming cup of Dragon Well tea in front of you.
“What the hell are you doing, Potter?” You reach over to smack his arm when he sprinkles apple slices and bacon on your breakfast.
“What does it look like?” James smiles lopsidedly. “You need to eat more, honey.”
(In the future, Sirius will tell Harry, “It started off as a joke, a way to get on her nerves — but then, it just became this thing about taking care of her, making sure she got enough sleep before her tests, wondering if she had breakfast or dinner, staying with her in the library, walking her to the Slytherin common room, and sending her stupid notes just to make her laugh. You don’t get it, Harry. I’d give my every breath to ensure her life. We all would.” Harry doesn’t see Sirius any more during that evening, but he hears a bottle crashing against a wall, cracking into a million pieces, and the masked sound of Sirius sobbing, and Harry decides to leave him alone for the night.)
Then, you tear your eyes away from James — he huffs, pushing your plate to you, mildly annoyed that you’ve deprived him of your eyes; they were his favorite part of you, you see, so expressive and full of life; James thinks you put the stars to shame — and thankfully, you remember that Harry still exists. You lightly smack Sirius’s leg until he gives Harry some room to sit. “Potter, meet other Potter. It’s the holidays, shouldn’t it be the perfect time to let go of House prejudices and spend time with family?”
James looks at Harry up and down. “You must be from dad’s side of the family with all that hair.”
Harry lets out a breath of relief. That was easy — way too easy. When he takes the vacant space in between you and Sirius, you dump all the available food on his plate, just as James had done for you.
“Eat,” You say with a tone of finality. “You look like the wind could snap you in half.”
“Yes, m—” Harry stops himself before he could finish his sentence, avoiding Sirius’s curious gaze.
“Wow.” Sirius pokes Harry in the shoulder and in the cheek. “You really look like a mini-James, you’ve even got his terrible eyesight.”
“Oi!”
Your fork clatters against the silverware as you turn to Sirius with a shrill. “Not that I do enjoy your company — because, trust me, I do not want you here at all and would very much prefer if you got out of my sight — but why are you here? The Gryffindor table is over there. Unless your housemates finally got sick of you, Potter, which I can definitely see happening.”
James chuckles, tossing another grape in his mouth without taking his eyes off you. “It’s as you said, isn’t it? It’s the time for putting aside House prejudices. And I think it’s a lovely day to enjoy a meal with my favorite snake.”
“Drop dead,” You retort, digging into your chicken with a little more force than necessary.
“Oh, dove.” James shakes his head, a teasing grin pulling at his lips. “It’s cute that you think death will keep me from you.”
(Harry’s been told before, probably by Sirius, that this line had been wedged into his wedding vows for you. “A dramatic one, James was,” Sirius chuckles to himself one morning, Harry and Hermione listening intently, “He always said he’d rather die than ever hurt her. There was this time in seventh year, they had a fight — it was ugly — and she had ignored him for a week. James cried in Remus’s arms begging him to cut his heart out, saying that he didn’t deserve to keep on breathing, not after making you cry.”)
“That is so creepy,” You say in disgust, scrunching your nose. Sirius chortles at your side. “I still wonder why Evans agreed to go out with you.”
“It’s all part of the charm, dove.” James winks. “It’s all part of the charm.”
Harry wants to barf, actually.
After breakfast, James then decides to introduce Harry to Lily, Remus, and Peter. (He’s gonna need the patience of a saint to not Avada Kedavra that rat on the spot.) Harry had spent the whole morning watching Sirius peel oranges and give them to you with a smitten look in his eyes — naturally, you gave whatever Sirius offered you to Harry, and each time Padfoot would visibly wilt. If he were in his Animagus form, Harry thinks he would be whining by now, tongue out and all. James and Sirius follow after you like lost puppies when you extricate yourself from the table.
“Where are you going?” James calls, hot on your heels as you leave the Great Hall.
“Away from you, Potter!”
And James actually sighs when you turn the corner and disappear from their peripheral vision. Seconds later, he turns to Harry with a blinding smile, “She’s definitely charmed.”
Harry chortles.
“Well, come on then!” James guffaws as he wraps an arm around Harry’s neck — this is so, so strange. They begin walking in the opposite direction of where you went. “I still can’t believe we’ve got another Potter here and in Slytherin. I think I would have remembered Minnie calling your name during the Sorting Ceremony. What year are you in?”
He’s supposed to start his sixth-year in a few weeks. “Fifth.” Technically.
“We should ask Lily,” says Sirius, hands in his pockets and ebony ringlets tickling his nape. “She’s got the best memory out of all of us.”
It’s odd, Harry thinks, meeting the person who’s got his eyes — or the other way around, as people have told him. It’s like someone carved out the emeralds of Lily Evans’s eyes and bestowed it upon Harry for safekeeping. She sits beside Remus Lupin, head resting on his shoulder, hands clasped together, as they enjoy the shade. Nex to them, oblivious to their intimate conversation, is Peter Pettigrew — with his rosy, cherub cheeks and innocent blue eyes; not at all the image of a pathological, cowardly liar. Their heads snap in attention as James boisterously cries for their name.
“Marauders — and Lily-pad — meet ickle Potter.” James lightheartedly whacks Harry on the back, to which Harry feels his lungs spill out from his mouth, he’s sure there’s an imprint of his father’s hand on his back now.
“There’s two Potters in Hogwarts?” Sea-green eyes look at him in scrutiny as Lily knits her brows. “How even is the castle still standing?”
James cackles like it’s the best joke he’s ever heard in his entire life, slapping his knee for dramatic effect. Oh, well, at least they’re buying Harry’s half-baked lie. At this point, it’s not even baked, it’s just wet, soggy, and poorly done. “Good one, Lily-pad!”
Sirius ruffles Remus’s shaggy blonde hair, canines bared in a wide grin. “This one here’s Moony, uptight prefect in the morning and absolute beast in the evening.”
Harry blanches. Surely he was talking about his furry problem, right? Right?
Remus doesn’t even flinch, just peels off Sirius’s hand from him and extends his hand out to Harry. “Please do not mind him. Remus Lupin, nice to meet you. Although, I can’t believe this is the first time we’ve met. We would have definitely remembered if we had another Potter in our midst.”
“It’s true, we Potters are just hard to forget,” says James, smiling cheekily.
Harry pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “Mum didn’t take the Potter name. I’m part Dursley. Muggle.”
Lily hums, toying at the ends of her bright hair. “Dursley, huh? What a familiar name.”
“It’s a common one,” Harry assures her — not at all the names of the people who would take him in after they died. And make his life miserable.
“I suppose you’re right,” says Lily, unconvinced.
“And this is Peter.” James introduces the boy eagerly, pride in his voice — as though this isn’t the person who literally allies himself with Voldemort. As if Peter won’t betray his friends all because of fear.
“N–Nice to meet you,” Peter stammers with a nervous fidget, “Any family of James is a friend of ours.”
Harry’s eye twitches.
IT IS ALMOST COMICAL — the way their eyes land on your figure, bursting through the courtyard from the corridors, winter cloak swishing with every step, tendrils of hair swaying in the crisp wind, and head held up high, thick books under your arms. You pause in front of the Marauders, face blank, then you turn to Peter, greeting him with a: “Hello, only Gryffindor I can tolerate.”
Peter’s cheeks burn a saccharine hue of pink. Oh, no, no, no — absolutely not — Harry will not stand for a little crush Peter Pettigrew has on his mother. He needs James to act now. “Hi,” Peter replies shyly.
Lily quirks her lips. “Hello, princess, see your score for the Astronomy test yet?”
You scowl. “Zip it, Evans.”
The sound of Lily’s laughter fills the atmosphere — it’s the sort of melody that makes flowers bloom in deserts. “Had a bit of difficulty with the star charts?”
Sirius pinches your cheek — Harry thinks you’re going to murder him on the spot. “Difficulty? I think this one just slept through the whole thing.”
James snickers. “Must have been one hell of a nap, princess. You were drooling on my jumper.”
“I most certainly do not drool!” You gasp, appalled, eyes wide as you step away from Sirius.
Sirius rolls his eyes. “What? Is drooling too barbaric for the pretty, little pure-blooded princess now? Newsflash, pet, you’re just as human as we are.”
“Oh, you horrible, loathsome, infuriating—” You whip around to beat his chest with the course book in your grasp — it’s the kind of book Hermione would consider for light reading.
“Irresistibly attractive—?” Sirius supplies for you, grin widening with as he captures your wrist with his hands.
“In your dreams!” You shrill.
You exhale slowly, eyes closing, chest rising when you take a sharp inhale. You open your eyes and stare straight at Harry — for a moment he fears that you’ll bite his head off. “Harry, dear, will you accompany me to the library? I think I’ve found something important regarding your situation.”
Harry nods. “Is it time already?”
“Yes,” You say firmly. “And time is of the essence. Come on.”
“Wait!” Lily calls out to you as you turn to head back to the castle, Harry in tow — he tries to avoid the way James is glaring at your linked arms. “Hogsmeade next week?”
Your jaw falls to the ground — this must have been unrehearsed, if the others’ reactions were anything to go by; Remus had dropped his book in shock, Sirius looked like he couldn’t decide between applauding Lily’s bravery or shaking her, and James was somehow frozen in time. “Excuse me?”
“You’re excused, princess,” says Lily, dimples poking out of her cheek as she takes another step towards you. “You, me, Hogsmeade. A date. I’m sure you’ve gone on one of those before.”
Harry elbows your stomach as you stare at Lily in shock. It takes a few moments to break you out of your stupor. “A–And what makes you think I’ll just go with you?”
Lily shrugs. “I’m fit. Aren’t I, Remus?”
“The fittest,” says Remus without missing a beat.
You laugh incredulously. “Do you just expect me to go along with this? You’re mad, Evans.”
Harry glares at you. You need to go along with this.
“Are you scared, princess?” Lily’s face is inches away from yours, noses almost touching — Harry doesn’t know if he should keep watching this painful way of flirting — as she grins at you, happiness barely contained within her eyes.
To your credit, you don’t back down. (Harry has to say this for the masses: he saw your gaze flitter down to Lily’s lips for a split second.) “Stop calling me that, Evans.”
“One date, then.”
You growl in exasperation, eyes flickering to the boys behind her back — pretending not to hear their conversation. “I suppose I’ll have to deal with them as well?”
Lily beams and Harry swears sunflowers could grow in her direction. “We’re a package deal.”
“Unfortunately,” You utter — but Harry notices it, the lack of venom in your voice. You straighten your posture, nose lifted haughtily, “I choose where we’re going.”
“Done.” The sun peeks out from the cloud just as Lily smiles at you.
“And I want to—”
“Done,” Remus interjects raspily, peering up at you from underneath his lashes. “Anything you want, it’s yours.”
You fight a growing smile, but continue, “If we’re going out in public, you’re going to have to wear—”
“Done,” says James giddily, he looks as though he could kiss you in front of everyone without a care in the world.
“You can’t just agree to anything I say!” You flap your arms in frustration.
“Yes, dear,” Sirius teases.
“Do you know how much you piss me off, Black?” You squawk. “Because you are this close to—”
“You are so fucking beautiful,” Sirius confesses, every pretense shed raw from his skin, sincerity pouring from his words.
“I—” You falter, heat rushing to your cheeks. “You’ve gone mad.”
“It’s your fault, dove,” says James, eyes twinkling like crescent moons as he smiles. “You best take accountability for this.”
“You’re incorrigible — all of you,” You say as you avoid their gazes.
(But they were yours. Past, present, and future. They loved you so much that their soul was no longer their own — it was yours; yours to keep, yours to break, and yours to love. It would be unjust to ask them why they loved you. Do we ask why the sun rises each day without rest? Do we ask a daisy to stop blooming, or a tree to stop growing after it has endured storms and floods? After all, we do not ask why humans follow the light in a tunnel shrouded in darkness.)
“Come on, Harry, let’s go.” You reach for his hand, he notices immediately that the tips of your ears are pink, and your palms are warm with sweat. He barely sees Peter wave goodbye before you tug him in the direction of the castle entrance.
“Wait up!” Remus catches up to you two in quick strides, offering to carry your books for you — not that you agree, stubborn Slytherin that you are. “I’ll walk you to the library.”
“There’s no need for that, Lupin, thank you.” You dodge his eyes, lips tightly pressed together, nails slightly digging into Harry’s arm.
“Remus,” He says with a twinkle. “Call me Remus.”
“Alright.” You pause. “Remus.”
(In that moment, Remus wonders if you remember decking Lucius Malfoy in the face to defend him in your fourth year. He didn’t think he deserved to even breathe in the same air as you — the pure-blooded princess, dressed in clothing worth more than his life, adorned in jewelry he could only dream to afford, raised to believe she was better than everyone else. Then, you beat up Evan Rosier the next month in the courtyard, eyes ablaze, extravagant silk marred with grass stains and mud, and knuckles split open. You spit blood on the ground, looking at Lily then back at Rosier. “Red,” You say, kicking him one last time in the stomach, unafraid of McGonagall’s wrath growing louder and louder. “Just like everyone else. Like those Muggleborns you fear. We’ve all got dirty blood, Rosier. Suck it up.”
“I’ll tell your father about this!” Rosier bellows through bloody teeth.
“Tell him!” You grab his neck and slam your forehead against his. “Tell him that I decide my own future now!”
Remus doesn’t even have to think about it.
He falls in love.)
FUNNILY ENOUGH, IT’S LILY who gives you her heart first, before anyone else does. It’s the last month of her first year at Hogwarts — it still hasn’t quite sunk in yet that she was a witch. Her, not Petunia, but her — Lily Evans, the witch. Apparently, some people can’t believe it either. A girl from Ravenclaw calls her this foul word, she’s heard it a few times now but it always hurts the same. James and Sirius get into a fight for her honor, now faced with detention later this evening. But she can’t help but wonder, what if they were right? What if she really didn’t belong in this world? It was too good to be true, anyway. Perhaps she’ll just run a flower boutique with Petunia.
“Oi.”
The sound of your voice startles her, and she nearly topples over in the Great Lake. Lily catches sight of your Slytherin colors and resigns herself to another round of name-calling. “What do you want?”
“They’re wrong, you know,” You tell her, ignoring Lily’s question. You look down on her with your nose raised arrogantly — she wishes she could be like you. Born to be magic. “You’ve got a terrifying brain locked up in your head there, Evans. And they know it, too. They’re scared.”
Lily scoffs. “I’m just a Mudblood to them. There’s nothing to be intimidated by.”
You sneer. “Don’t say that word. You’re more than that. More than them. They’ve got long ways to go to prove they have a place in this world. But you — you’ve defied the odds and you were destined to become magic. You don’t have to prove anything. You have the right to be in the wizarding world and no one can take that away from you.”
Then, you pivot on your heels, not bothering to hear her reply. “You’re my rival now, Evans. Do keep up. We’ve got an Astronomy test tomorrow. I look forward to seeing how you do then.”
Lily just gapes. She’s certain there’s butterflies in her stomach. Her heart thumps wildly against her ribcage. Lily raises her hands to feel her blushing cheeks. There’s a light unfamiliar sensation in her stomach — like the urge to kick her legs and scream into a pillow, or more precisely, chase after you and hold your hand.
She stiffens.
Oh.
part two
#hp angst#hp fluff#hp imagine#hp x reader#james potter x reader#lily evans x reader#marauders angst#marauders fluff#marauders imagine#marauders x reader#sirius black x reader#poly!marauders x reader#poly!marauders fluff#remus lupin x reader
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first i would like to formally apologize.......also first time trying hybrid au so i humbly apologize if it's not as good as other people's!!! first time for everything and all that!!!
hybrid!au, angst, hurt/comfort but also hurt/no comfort, VERY mean!simon, cat hybrid!reader, dog hybrid!soap, owner!simon
part 2 !!
Simon who has retired from the military and decides to get himself a hybrid companion. Even though he doesn’t want to admit it – he’s grown lonely. He doesn’t have any family and all the socializing he did was in the military and he doesn’t have that anymore. So he decides to look into finding something to fill that gap in his life.
Enters Soap – a young hybrid who once upon a time worked for the military just like Simon. The pup got injured in action and was forced to retire.
Simon figures the two of them will fit together quite well.
And he’s right! The two of them get along swimmingly. And it turns out Soap is very good for Simon. The endless energy the hybrid had (despite his injury) forces Simon to actually leave the house multiple times a day instead of hiding inside until he drives himself stir crazy.
Now, he has to take Soap out for walks, runs, and even takes the hybrid to the park so he can run around with other hybrids and play catch with Simon. Soap LOVES it when Simon throws the ball as far and fast as he can so Soap has to spend several minutes hunting the little thing down.
Simon actually finds himself feeling…happy. For the first time in a long time.
Soap carves out a space in Simon’s life and the Brit is more than happy to let him take up as much space as he needs. He adores Soap. He knows the two of them are going to be companions for a long, long time.
But then on a routine nightly walk, Soap freezes at the entrance to an alleyway, ears perked and alert as he hears something Simon can’t. His tail stops wagging and his blue eyes work to pierce unblinkingly into the inky depths of the alley.
And that’s how they come across you; a skittish cat hybrid with no home to call your own.
Soap is ecstatic. His tail starts wagging so hard that it actually hurts when it hits Simon in the leg.
The pup begs Simon to bring you home. He wants a hybrid friend of his own! Something ugly and dark works it’s way into his chest when he hears that – was he not enough for Soap like Soap was for him?
He tries to tug Soap away by hooking his fingers into the leather collar around his neck but the hybrid doesn’t move, simply staring with a grin at where you sit on the ground in the alley.
Simon doesn’t like cats. He doesn’t want a cat. And just seeing you makes him frown.
When he finds that he can’t get Soap to move, he starts bargaining. He swears that they’ll look into finding a nice dog hybrid for Soap!! Stll, it doesn’t work. The dog hybrid has got his heart set on you for some reason.
And that’s how you find yourself living in his home. And he’s not happy about it.
You glare at him any time he has the audacity to walk into any room you happen to be in in his OWN damn house. It pisses him off.
He doesn’t like you. And he makes it abundantly clear any time he sees you with the way his lips curl up in disgust. He shoos you away like you’re a nuisance even when you’re just lounging in the warmth of a sunbeam through the window.
Where Soap eats borderline gourmet, he usually just slops some random low-quality hybrid food down for you. Sometimes, if he’s feeling particularly resentful, he doesn’t even let you eat at the table with him and Soap.
But Soap adores you. The pup gets so excited to see you whenever he gets home from a walk or a day at the park. He hunts you down immediately wherever you may be just so he can excitedly tell you all about what happened outside – the birds he saw, the hybrids he played with, what he ate.
And you listen intently. You’re not one for many words, Simon notes, but he often finds you muttering barely audible things to the other hybrids. You’ve never spoken a word to the human.
Simon doesn’t know why that upsets him too – it’s not like he wants you to talk to him. He just thinks it’s disrespectful of you to ignore the man giving you food and a roof over your head. He also thinks it’s fucking disrespectful of you to steal his hybrids heart the way you have.
The longer you’re there in his house, the more Simon hates you. Annoyance morphs into despising you. He’d have thrown you out back onto the streets by now if he could get away with it but when Soap wasn’t by his side, he was by yours.
It ticks him off when he walks into a room and finds you purring happily with Soap curled up around you, big burly arms holding you snuggly against his chest as he snoozes.
Simon didn’t even bother naming you, Soap’s the one who picked something to call you. Simon usually just gruffly calls you ‘cat’ if he needs to speak to you – which he makes it a point not to do very much.
You still don’t speak to Simon. Even when he ‘forgets’ to feed you, you don’t say a word. You don’t complain or seek him out for something to eat. You just choose to starve.
He wonders if you hate him as much as he despises you.
And you and Soap remain the best of friends. The pup is always yapping happily to you and you’re always listening.
As time passes, you even start to follow Soap around. It no longer seems like one-sided adoration.
You love Soap, he brightens your day and makes you happy. You want to be around him all the time. You never thought you'd like a dog but Soap was just so sweet and kind that it was impossible to dislike him -- even when he ruthlessly kissed your face all over and pinned you down so you couldn't escape just so he could give you all the affection he wanted. You never got mad, never showed your claws (in fact, you were extra cautious of your claws with him). You slept with him whenever he wasn't busy snuggling with Simon -- and you'd never dare interrupt the two of them while they were having quality time together!!!
And that also makes Simon furious. Because Soap is his. How dare you have the audacity to think Soap is yours? Simon has put so much love and effort into his relationship with Soap and you prance in with your stupid fluffy tail and little purrs and you’ve got the dog-hybrid wrapped around your finger in no time.
God, he hates you.
It seems like everything comes to a head on a rainy day. The rain always makes Soap hurt, his old injury and joints act up. It leaves him docile and sometimes a little cranky.
He had been a little short with you all day and that hurt. You already dealt with your owner, the man who took you in, refusing to show you any kindness, and now the one companion you had would barely look at you.
It wasn’t your fault you didn’t know how much pain Soap suffered from. You loved the rainy night, it was perfect weather to snuggle up to your favorite hybrid and snooze away.
You found Soap, sprawled on his back on the couch, eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed, you didn’t think anything of it. You crawled onto the couch, intending to snuggle in right beside him.
But when you put the tiniest bit of your weight on him, his blue eyes popped open and a loud yelp erupted from his lips. You startled, hissing as your tail puffed up and fuzzy ears pinned back.
Soap practically lept from the couch to get out from under your weight, hitting the floor with a loud thump that had him whimpering softly to himself, curling in on his side.
Simon was storming into the living room not a half second later – finding his beloved pup curled up whimpering and shaking and you, ears pinned, tail puffed, and taking up the spot Soap once was.
Simon didn’t care what had just happened – all he knew was what it looked like; like you had pushed the poor pup off.
Because to him, that’s what cats were; vile, selfish, mean little shits.
You were dragged to the door and tossed right out into the rain without a second thought. Before you could even get your wits about you, the door was slamming in your face and you were alone. You sat on the step for a long while, shivering from the cold rain soaking your thin clothes, just waiting for the door to open again.
But before you knew it, the lights inside were turning off and you heard the front door’s deadbolt slide into place. And you were still outside, alone with nothing to your name but an old t-shirt that you had stolen from Soap.
Simon hadn’t even bothered to get you clothes of your own. Or a collar like Soap’s – one with Simon’s name and number on the back. You had always wanted a collar like that but you knew Simon didn’t care about you enough to even consider you his own hybrid.
You tried your best to stay out of his way and stay quiet and as small as possible so he wouldn’t grow angry or uncomfortable with you. You didn’t ask him for food when he forgot or get under his feet like Soap did. You tried your best to be good and hoped that someday the human would come around but as the days passed, you knew that it wouldn’t happen. You still did your best to not make trouble for him though.
It seemed he was just waiting for an opportunity to get you out of his house.
Your tummy growled, reminding you that you hadn’t been able to eat dinner yet. You stood from the front step and wandered down to the sidewalk, bare feet splashing in the puddles, taking a last glance at the now dark and still house you called home for many months.
With your head hung low, you made your way back to familiar areas where you knew you could dig through trash to find at least something so you wouldn’t sleep hungry tonight.
#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#soap mactavish x reader#soap x reader#john soap mactavish x reader#john mactavish x reader#cod x reader
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𝐒𝐍𝐀𝐏𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 — gojo satoru
synopsis. the first years find old videos burned onto a dvd of you, satoru, shoko, and geto from 2005/6.
wc. 2.7k
tags. gojo x reader, you+shoko+gojo+geto being in the same year and besties, set in the present and past, fluff
next part / series masterlist
"is it recording?" asked one muffled but familiar voice. the screen was black, the camera covered by something or someone. the pitch was marginally higher than they were used to but yuji and nobara grinned at each other as they recognised the voice of their teacher.
"how can anyone see when you're holding it like that?" this one was more feminine and unfamiliar to the two - but not for megumi who smiled sadly at the laptop screen.
"give it to me idiots," this was another female voice. there was some more chattering in the background but the audio hadn’t been picked up over the rustling of the camera being passed around. then, for a moment, the screen goes completely white as it focused on the figure in front: shoko ieiri.
she turned the camera around so it was looking at her three peers all wearing the same sheepish grins. "you hadn't even taken off the lens cover."
“it was satoru’s fault,” the other female sorcerer accused the white haired boy next to her.
“no it wasn’t!” gojo whined, geto on the other side of him stifling a laugh at his childish mannerisms. he looked in disbelief that his best friend was not defending him, “why am i always the scapegoat?”
yuuji paused the video to point at the unknown girl, “who is that?”
megumi hesitated for a brief second before responding, “yn.”
“you knew her?” nobara raised a brow at her dark-haired friend. he was often stoic and kept to himself but they’d been together for several months now and even she could pick up on the uncomfortable change in his demeanour.
megumi hummed, avoiding eye contact as he stared at the paused screen, “mhm.” you looked happy in the clip, always amused when it came to winding up gojo. he’d seen it with his own two eyes.
“did she leave jujutsu?” yuuji pondered aloud.
“something like that,” he swallowed thickly.
nobara gave megumi’s hand a light squeeze, but didn’t say anything. megumi had initially been against the idea of looking through the dvd to see their teacher’s teenage years at jujutsu high - this explained why.
yuuji, on the other hand, was oblivious to the interaction, more eager to see a young gojo (and nanami too, he hoped). he reached across nobara to unpause the video without another question.
"can we just do what we actually came out here to do?” geto asked in an exasperated tone, but he was clearly smiling as he spun gojo around so the two could go back to back. “who's taller, me or satoru?" the two had been arguing over the fact all morning so it had been shoko to suggest recording it so that there was actual evidence that neither could deny.
before either could stand fully straight against one another, you interrupted with no hesitation, "suguru." gojo’s eyes widened and you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing at his expression.
"you didn't even look properly!" he threw his hands out dramatically and you shrugged, dismissing his distress.
"didn't need to," you waved a finger up and down, “shorty.”
there was a brief second of back and forth between you and gojo, no actual words being said until his pout lifted into a mischievous smile. that had you spinning on your heel in a futile attempt to try and escape him but it took only three of his strides till he’s got you in his hold, fingers tickling your sides.
“can we go ten minutes without you two flirting?” shoko complained over your laughs from behind the camera, panning over to geto who was shaking his head with a similar look that she undoubtedly wore too.
yuuji’s eyes were blown wide when he paused it again, looking at megumi in disbelief (even nobara had to sneak a glance for an explanation because she’d never seen their teacher so physically close to anyone like that). “sensei had a girlfriend?”
“sort of,” megumi shrugged.
“oh my-” yuuji begun to exclaim but megumi cut him off by placing a hand over his wide mouth.
“if you ask any more questions, i will turn it off.”
instantaneously, yuuji mimicked zipping his mouth, locking it and throwing the key away, settling back into his seat. the dark-haired teenager unpaused the video.
the clip comes back to life again, gojo with his arms wrapped around your centre as he ceases his tickling in full view. his sleeves are rolled up so it’s visible on camera where you had dug your nails into his skin trying to prise his hands from you (very unsuccessfully, might you add). “that was not flirting. this is flir- ow i just wanted a kiss.”
the camera dropped as shoko laughed and the video ended several seconds later, the screen swapped back to one full of files and thumbnails. there had to be well over a hundred videos, maybe more, all ranging from a few seconds to even an hour for some.
nobara scrolled down until she came across a clip with gojo as the thumbnail. this one, she decided.
the video buffered for a brief moment before beginning. this one was outside this time, somewhere on the grounds of the high school. gojo had forgone his uniform jacket once more and his glasses were perched on the edge of his nose as he slightly bent down to hear what was being said.
shoko was the one holding the camera again – as she often was – and the one asking questions, "what's your favourite thing about being a sorcerer?"
gojo pretended to deeply ponder the question, tapping his index finger against his chin thoughtfully. just as he went to answer the question, voices came from behind both of them: two other students began walking towards them from a path on the other side of the open field.
“is that yn and geto?” gojo asked to no one in particular. he held up a finger to shoko as his feet were naturally leading him in the direction of the two people he care for most, “one second.”
shoko panned back to herself, nose scrunched up and a cigarette between her lips. she looked like she was going to complain about gojo’s inability to stay focused on one task at a time when she too got distracted by her friends in the distance.
"someone's in love," she sung as she spun around, pointing at you and gojo and then her mouth as she pretended to gag. gojo had already presumably checked in on geto and now his whole focus was on making sure you’d come back from the mission in one piece. in the footage he pressed one long kiss to your forehead, hugging you closely to his body. “i need to smoke.”
yuuji was practically squirming in his seat, itching to say something. one sharp look from nobara, however, and he thinks better of it. the orange-haired sorcerer went back to her scrolling, finding a short fifteen second clip that lasted only twenty seconds.
initially, the screen was dark once more as it was being readjusted and then a young male, no older than sixteen came into view with a wide smile. “i’m going to be japan’s strongest sorcerer one day!”
“yu!” you appeared behind him, passing him a soft drink bottle, “of course you are! best the world has ever seen.”
“after me,” geto, who was sat next to haibara, joked as he looked at his junior with a fondness that you shared. there were some more voices and haibara glancing between talking sorcerers but nothing overtly interesting in the final few seconds.
“i have no idea who that was,” megumi admitted, and yuuji nodded nonchalantly like his silence wasn’t killing him. even the dark-haired sorcerer couldn’t stop himself from being somewhat amused by his peer.
megumi was the one to scroll down this time. he was more methodical than nobara had been and looked at several thumbnails before deciding finally on one of you and gojo. he recognised the date underneath as a date gojo had scribbled on the back of a photo that he kept in his wallet.
you were holding the camera this time, pointing it at gojo who was staring up at the clear night sky. it was well past curfew and you were both going to be in for it when yaga found you but the conflict to come could not be felt in the serenity of the fireflies’ buzzing.
“look at how beautiful the stars are,” you said aloud, though you’re entire focus was on your boyfriend in front of you. he turned to agree (and probably tell you some random fact that he knew about one particular constellation) only to catch your sly smile and your heart-eyed stare.
there was a split second as his eyes darted between yours and the camera that he almost appeared… nervous? bashful? but he quickly recovered with an eye roll, “you’re literally blessed to even be in my presence.”
you panned the camera around to yourself where you stared at gojo with a raised eyebrow. “if you can’t handle my rizz just say so.” gojo snorted and you could only keep up the facade for another second before you were giggling too.
he rolled closer to you so he could lay his head on your chest and you lifted the camera higher to make sure you both stayed within the frame.
“smile toru,” you poked his cheek lightly and pointed up. it was odd for his students to be watching this – to see their powerful sensei with his guard completely down, tired, and in love. gojo did as he was told, ocean blue eyes almost illuminating under the night’s shadow.
it was that moment that he had saved as a photo; gojo smiling up at the camera with his body covering yours whilst you look down with him with more love than he thought he could ever deserve.
“hey! i was watching that,” yuuji complained after megumi pressed escape, cutting the video short.
megumi sniffed lightly, but shrugged it off by giving yuuji a distraction, “you choose the next one.” this was sufficient enough to distract the minor disappointment and yuuji was quick to find one he liked.
“yn’s crying! i wonder what happened,” yuuji hurriedly clicked onto the video, invested in the life of a sorcerer he could never know.
“guess who broke up again,” shoko said in a sing-song tone as you glared at her. she was sat at her desk and you were on her bed, a mountain of used tissues behind you. your face was red and blotchy from tears and you clearly did not want to be recorded right then.
“it’s not funny,” you sniffled, “and it’s just a break.”
you mumbled the last part and shoko deadpanned to the camera, mockingly mouthing what you had just said. “still disrupting my beauty sleep by coming in my room and crying,” she turned in her chair towards you, “believe it or not i don’t just wake up looking this flawless.”
“ha ha,” you uttered sarcastically, “it’s not my fault i love him.”
“you’re seventeen,” shoko dragged out, “there’ll be other ones.”
you stopped your pity party for a brief second to look shoko dead in the eye, “have you seen his bank account? there will not be other ones.” you both broke out into laughter almost instantly, the healing sorcerer agreeing with your argument.
shoko pointed to the camera, “gojo satoru i hope you see this. your girl is a gold digger confirmed.”
the video then gets cut off once a pillow has been launched directly at shoko’s head.
“next one! next one! they have to get back together!” nobara insisted. megumi lets her play the next video, he didn’t tell her about what he knew — that he’d seen you and gojo in love and together well after the video. that you survived the tribulations that came with being a teenager and overcame more as sorcerers than the average couple should have to deal with.
“so it’s been…” shoko held up one finger, then two, then glanced to geto for help.
“three days and six hours,” he recounted, knowing exactly what she was referring to.
“three days and six hours since gojo and yn called it quits and now here they are, making out at an official jujutsu event very not subtly,” shoko informed the camera, swapping the view so that it was in fact exposing your escapades at the formal event. it was nothing overtly raunchy, just gojo pressing you to a wall as he kissed your lips. still, there’s a time and a place.
“are you seriously recording this?” geto asked.
shoko spun the camera to him, “you want the camera on you?”
geto winked, adjusting his tie and leaning back on the bench as he manspread. “i look good right?” shoko shook the camera to say ‘no’ and he shrugged, pulling out a lighter for the cigarette he held between his lips. he lit his and then offered it to shoko.
just as she grabbed the lighter, a loud crash came from the direction that the two of you had been. somehow in the thirty seconds that she had been focused on geto, you two had stopped your kissing session, zenin naoyo had showed up and gojo was throwing punches with the zenin.
geto dropped his cigarette as he quickly raced to help out his best friend. shoko too followed after, running with the camera facing the fight as she called out, “the girls are fighting!”
“i bet sensei won,” yuuji smugly said as the video ended.
nobara scoffed, taking back control of the laptop as she tried to find their next video, “obviously. he never loses – especially not to zenin naoya.” unable to make a decision with the hundreds to choose from, nobara closed her eyes, scrolled and clicked on a random video.
you and shoko were the two on screen, sat at a table seating on the train.
“shopping haul!” you held up the bags excitedly and shoko hushed you, pointing to the seats across from you and mouthing ‘they’re sleeping’. you whispered an ‘oops’ and briefly showed a young nanami and haibara resting his head on his shoulder.
quietly lifting up the three massive bags of shopping the two of you had between yourselves (a difficult task given the rustling of the paper), you began to lay out your items on the table. the both of you took it in turns, shoko showing off the new lighters and lipsticks she’d bought followed by you presenting several tops that you’d probably never get the chance to wear given the fact you were always in uniform.
“why are we stuck so far away when those two are just sleeping?” gojo rudely interrupted your little haul from where he and geto sat. shoko laughed, grabbing the camera to point at the two who were sat facing away two rows down. the train was pretty busy so they’d been lucky to grab the table. gojo and geto were left to fend for themselves.
gojo was peering down the isle, a pout on his lips whilst geto knelt on his chair and held his hands up pleadingly for… you two to kick your two sleeping juniors out of their peaceful seats so they can disturb your peace? there was no way that was happening.
“they’re not allowed on the adult table because they almost got us kicked out of the restaurant,” shoko explained with a tut and you oh-so-solemnly shook your head in disappointment.
the white haired sorcerer rested his head back against the chair, rubbing his brow in a frustrated manner, “the old lady started it.”
geto placed a hand on gojo’s shoulder, waving a middle finger to the camera with the other. “don’t waste your breath, satoru. they probably paid her to trip over your chair.”you and shoko glanced at each other with knowing grins before both of you started mimicking two people kissing with your hands, "mwah mwah mwah, and they're both boys."
a/n. will there be subsequent parts to this? yes most definitely. this is not proofread and very messy so if you made it the whole way ty and I hoped you enjoyed this <33333 this might be my most favourite thing to write so far
#snapshot !#satoru#gojo drabbles#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#gojo#gojou satoru x you#gojo fluff#gojou satoru#shoko ieiri#geto suguru#Nanami kento#Haibara yu#jjk#jujutsu kaisen
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angel of a daughter
words: 2.2k
warnings: 18+ only!, smut, stepcest, stepdad!rafe, p in v sex, unprotected sex, virgin!reader, female receiving oral, fingering, breeding, fertility issues (from mother), reader is described as having big boobs, kinda pregnancy kink from rafe but more talk of sex while pregnant, cheating (no daddy kink)
“i got the results back.” your mom says, her voice low and sad, revealing her results with her tone alone. “the doctor says theres no way.”
“i’m sorry, mama.” you pout, wrapping your arms around her shoulders. you hate that you feel a bit of relief. your mom had you young, a teenager knocked up by another teenager who ran off the second he heard his girlfriend got pregnant.
your mom raised you until you were a teenager yourself, doing everything by herself until your stepdad came into the picture. he inserted himself perfectly into your life, but expected to have kids of his own.
“whats the plan then?” you question as your stepdad comes into the living room, setting a glass of water down in front of your mom. you sit on either side of her, showing your support. “adoption? surrogate?”
you like being an only child. you like it just being you, mom, and rafe, but at the same time, you want your mom to be happy, and if a baby gives her that, you'll adjust for her.
“actually…” rafe clears his throat. “we were hoping you’d be willing to help out.”
“yeah, of course.” you nod. “anyway i can.”
you don’t realize what rafe means until later. you assumed it was just help researching adoption agencies, or finding a surrogate, but as rafe hovers over you, you realize he means to breed you.
“m-my mom can’t be okay with this.” you stutter out, body stiff against the bed, trapped as you blink up at rafe, body caging you over the mattress.
“she thinks you’re going to get inseminated.” he huffs out, breath warm against your face. “and in a way you are. a natural way.”
“i-i-” you stutter out. “i don't know about this.”
“come on, i see the way you look at me.” rafe shifts his weight to one hand, gliding down the other down your torso, squeezing your hip gently. “i know you want this.”
“you're married to my mom!” your eyes are wide, but a spark does ignite inside of you. “you're my stepdad!”
“and you’re going to be doing both of us such a big favor, pretty girl.” rafe coos, his fingers running along the material of your shorts, stroking closer and closer to your center every time.
“i-i guess it would be easier than going to a doctor.” you’re sure it involves waivers and legal shit that your mind just can’t even wrap around.
“exactly!” rafe smiles down at you, glad for your naivety. “besides, im making you feel good... you’ll get pregnant, and both of us will feel real good.”
“how many times will we get to do it?” you whisper, hands reaching up to touch rafes cheeks, running your finger down the smooth planes. “like, it probably won’t take the first time.”
“as many times as we have to babygirl. and i’ll take real good care of you during your pregnancy. rub your feet, buy whatever you are craving, eat you out.” rafe loves the way your eyes blow wide.
“thats not appropriate!” your mom has lectured you long and hard about sexual experiences and above all how important it is to wait so you don’t become pregnant young like she did. and now she is asking you to allow your stepdad to breed you when you’re freshly out of your teen years.
“its okay, its just you helping us out so im helping you back out in return.” rafe moves his hand up to cup your cheek. “let me show you.”
he leans down to press your lips together in a kiss. you lay frozen for a moment before beginning to move back, reciprocating the kiss as your hands fist into his shirt, tugging him lower.
you let out a moan into his mouth and rafe has to pull away to chuckle. “see, i knew you wanted me babygirl.”
“yeah.” you nod. “okay, lets do this.” damn the consequences, you can think about them later.
“good.” he coos out, lips back against yours quickly as his hand gropes at your breast, rubbing them through your tanktop. you’ve always been insecure about the size of your chest, but as rafe lowers down to look at them, you think about them in a whole new light.
“these are gonna feed our baby so well.” he says, tugging at the hem of your shirt, lower and lower until it breeches the swell of your breasts and they pop out the top. you don’t ask who he means by ‘our’. you can indulge in the fantasy that it’s just you and rafe. that your mom is still in the picture, but only in the role as your mother, not the one of rafes baby.
rafe wraps his lips around your nipple, sucking deeply into his mouth, so in contrast to what it must feel like to have an infant feeding.
“i-more.” you gasp out as rafes fingers play with your other nipple, rolling and pinching at it until they’re both stiff peaks.
“i can’t wait to fuck you baby.” rafe says, helping you sit up just slightly to pull your shirt off, the small pajama shorts the only barrier you have left on your body. rafe also tugs his shirt off. you’ve seen him shirtless before in the pool or on your boat, but its different in this low lighting, so intimate and close.
“gonna eat your pretty pussy first though.” rafe tugs your shorts down, your thighs pressing together to allow you to keep that part of yourself hidden for a moment longer, before rafe is pushing at your legs and slotting himself onto the bed in between them.
“aww.” rafe smiles, looking much more like a boy your age with his grin rather than your stepfather. “i knew she’d be cute.” his hands stroke over your inner thighs. “have you ever had a guy eat your pussy before?”
“no.” you shake your head. “never done anything with a guy.” you’ve kissed past boyfriends, but it never went beyond that.
“im gonna be your first?” theres a spark in rafes eye when he realizes that you’re a virgin. that he’s going to deflower you, fill you up.
“y-yeah.” you nod.
rafe wants you to cum once with his mouth and fingers first to open you up and get you wetter before he fucks you, so he wastes no more time, pushing his face forward between your legs, tongue swiping over your folds as you scream out in pleasure.
rafe is glad as your moans increase with every flick of his tongue and glide of his lips that he chose to sneak into your room in a time when your mom was gone, off to the spa with her girlfriends, no doubt sharing to them her recent doctors trip and how her angel of a daughter agreed to be a surrogate so her and rafe could have a baby of their own.
“you taste so good.” rafe says. he isn’t one to enjoy giving head often, but you really are the sweetest taste on his lips. he focuses in on your clit as your entire body stiffens before relaxing, sighing out as your head becomes fuzzier and fuzzier with every touch of rafes mouth.
“do you touch yourself here?” rafe asks, pressing kisses to your clit, making out with it just like he did you mouth.
“no.” you shake your head. you occasionally grinded yourself into a pillow stuffed between your legs to get off when you got too overwhelmed, but you never reached your hand in your pants to feel yourself.
“what about here?” rafe brings his hand to your cunt, finger circling around your entrance.
your eyes widen again, that gloriously innocent startled look that has rafe grinding into the bed to give his cock some sort of relief.
“never!” you shake your head.
rafe just smiles, going back to focusing on your clit as his finger pushes in. you’re so wet it’s not difficult at all, but he can feel the way you squeeze around his digit, getting used to the feeling of the intrusion.
“relax for me, princess.” rafe says, sucking at your clit as he begins to move his finger in and out until he’s able to easily pump, the delicious squelching of your wetness filling the room with his every movement.
“gonna add a second, okay?” rafe talks you through the process, not wanting to do something to scare you into changing your mind. “gotta open you up for my cock, baby.”
rafe pushes a second finger into your entrance, working you open until he feels your body stiffen, his concentration going to your clit as he works you through your orgasm, your high so suddenly breeching that your body locks up and you let out a scream.
“shh, i got you.” rafe kisses along your mound as you work through it, pussy clenching around his fingers as he scissors them, knowing he needs you looser to fit inside.
“that-” you gasp out, mouth suddenly feeling dry. “that was so good.”
“yeah?” rafe smiles up at you. “i can keep helping you feel that way, baby.”
“mhm.” you nod, not sure how you’ll ever go without now that you’ve felt the high that rafe can get you.
“can i fuck you now?” he questions. as much as he’s ready to go right now, if he has to build you up to allow him inside bare, he would wait.
“yeah.” your voice is dripping with eagerness. “yeah, yes please. just need a drink of water first.”
you sit up slightly, going to reach for your water bottle on your bedside table, but rafe moves quicker, helping you bring the bottle to your lips and suck the water down, pulling away with a gasp as a drop of water glides down your chin, reaching your throat before rafes tongue is on your skin, tasting the sheen of sweat as he follows the wet trail up to your lips, kissing you to keep your mind occupied.
he works his pants and underwear off while you’re wrapped up in the kiss, your hands stroking through his hair, playing with the strands.
rafe moves your legs to wrap around his hips as he holds onto his cock, swiping it through your folds. he taps the head against your sensitive swollen clit, making you pull away with a gasp.
“stay nice and relaxed for me, baby.” rafe says, pressing kisses to your jaw as he lines up with your entrance. he pushes in slowly, your eyes clenching shut as your chest moves up and down with each breath, trying to keep your body relaxed like rafe said.
“there ya go.” rafe says, halfway inside your cunt. “good girl.”
he pushes as far in as your pussy allows, both of you sitting in that moment, relishing in the feeling of being joined together as you stretch to accommodate his large length, shifting your hips side to side and up and down to get used to the feeling.
“i gotta move, baby.” rafe says, his voice sounding strained.
“yeah, go ahead.” you nod. despite your affirmation, rafe continues to move slowly, his hips swinging back before pressing forward, carefully building up a rhythm.
“it feels really good.” you tell rafe, your cheeks flushed bright pink, hair fanned out on the pillow around you like a glowing halo.
“yeah, yeah.” rafe nods rapidly, his grip on control quickly loosening. “you feel so good too.”
rafe knows he should stop, but he loves the way your body reacts to his dirty words. “you’re so tight around me. i love this pussy. so much better than your mamas. gonna give me a baby, right?”
“i-yeah.” you nod. “fill me up.”
rafes loosening control shatters, his hips swinging forward fast, burying his cock inside of you as the pace instantly triples. you let out a squeal, the sheets gripped in your hands as he pounds into you.
“gonna fill up your pretty little cunnie, baby.” rafe grunts out, his own forehead sheening with sweat from his effort, his muscles straining as he pushes up then down, up then down.
“want it so bad.” you whine.
“fuck.” rafe gasps out, mouth dropping open, his lips shiny from eating you out. “can’t last much longer. gonna cum.”
you experiment, clenching your pussy around his cock, and judging by rafes reaction of a loud moan and curse, you can tell he likes it. you continue, squeezing every time he pulls out, wanting to keep his cock wrapped in your warmth.
“i-im cumming.” rafe gasps out, his cock growing inside of you before your eyes widen, suddenly feeling warmth spreading as his cum fills you, his cock pressing in even harder, hoping it reaches your womb.
“god.” rafe groans, lowering his body on top of yours, but you don’t care about the weight as you smile.
“we’re gonna keep doing that?” you ask, running your hand down his back.
rafe looks up at you. “oh, of course baby. gonna keep fucking you while you’re pregnant too, maybe you’ll give us twins.”
you roll your eyes and giggle at rafe. “thats not how it works, silly!”
“oh, what do you know?” rafe smirks at you. “you haven’t even had sex before!”
“well… i have now.” you mumble, shifting your hips from side to side, rafes cock still lodged deep inside of you.
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— ex-husband! gojo x reader
read part 2 here
cw: angst. just pure angst. co-parenting, brief mentions of miscommunication, fluff if you squint…
a/n: repost!! this post somehow got taken down last time. first ever ‘fic’ on here so i really appreciate any form of constructive criticism.
ex-husband! gojo who you are forced to see every fortnight due to the co-parenting arrangement set in place for your beloved 5-year-old daughter, sayuri.
ex-husband! gojo who would linger at your doorstep during drop-offs, almost as if searching for an unspoken invitation back into your life.
ex-husband! gojo who would intentionally leave a bunch of his belongings at your place, even if it was something minor like chewing gum, just to find a reason to pop by again.
ex-husband! gojo who would occasionally call you ‘princess’ or ‘baby’ out of habit, catching himself mid-sentence and playing it off casually.
ex-husband! gojo who would gently hold the hand of your precious daughter sayuri during his pickup, leading her to his car for the two weeks they’ll spend together. he would cast a glance back at you at least once, his heart beating rapidly when he caught your gaze. oh, how he wishes you could be a complete family.
ex-husband! gojo who would try to conceal the sadness in his eyes when sayuri innocently asks why mommy and daddy can’t live together. he struggles to find the right words that won’t break her little heart or reveal the depths of his own.
ex-husband! gojo who would still keep a family picture of you, him and sayuri as his wallpaper. a bittersweet reminder of what he once had before he threw it all away.
ex-husband! gojo who, during some of sayuri’s school events, finds himself involuntarily stealing glances at you.
ex-husband! gojo who clings onto the hope that one day you’ll look at him the way you used to, even if it was just for a fleeting moment, even though deep inside, he knew that the shattered fragments of your heart could never be mended
ex-husband! gojo who, on sayuri’s birthdays, buys her two gifts — one for her and one for you, unable to break the tradition of making you feel special, even if it’s just a little.
ex-husband! gojo who, on a particularly lonely night, contemplates sending you late-night text messages, only to delete them before hitting send. some bridges were just never meant to be rebuilt.
ex-husband! gojo who would endure restless hours, plagued by the thoughts of whether you would eventually move on and perhaps find a person that wasn’t him to claim as your lover. part of him yearned for you to choose him, and him only. that your heart will only have room for him and no one else. yet, despite the pain having a hold on his heart, he suppressed his selfish desires, opting for your happiness even if it lies beyond him. he hoped that, even if you decide to move on from him, that chosen person will bring you unparalleled happiness. whoever you decide to move onto would be the luckiest man, or woman ever — for satoru never judges. he hopes that he or she would hold you tenderly as you drifted to slumber, and shower your face with affectionate kisses the time the morning commenced. he wished for your heart to mend, even if it meant it would beat to a different rhythm. maybe, this was fate’s way of biting back at him.
ex-husband! gojo who wishes he would’ve treated you better during your marriage with him. he wished he would’ve listened to you more — the subtle nuances in your voice and the silent cries for understanding that went unnoticed till it was too late. he wanted to make you smile again, even if it was the last time he’d ever get the privilege to see your toothy grin.
ex-husband! gojo who dreams of a parallel universe where he had never let go. where he never signed those damned divorce papers in the first place. where the family portrait on the wall of his bedroom room tells a different story — one of enduring love.
ex-husband! gojo who is soon learns to be grateful that you two are civil towards each other, even if it was majorly due to the co-parenting arrangement. a life like this was better than a life without you at all.
and yet ex-husband! gojo would wish to restart everything if he could.
ex-husband! gojo who promises to love you properly in his next life. and the next. and the next.
© MISSUKIYO | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work
#gojo angst#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#gojou satoru x reader#jjk satoru#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu gojo#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisan#gojou satoru x y/n#gojou satoru x you#gojou x reader#jjk headcanons#ex husband gojo#satoru gojo#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo x reader#gojo satoru angst#jjk angst
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ending 2 for tolerate it! this was my original idea for the ending!
I just wanted to clarify that I’m writing these two endings bc of the feedback I’ve received. The first ending is for those who wanted them to reconcile/make amends, and I wanted to give those readers some closure.
this ending is for those who want reader to be happy without him (which was my original idea lol). anyways I know a lot of people didn’t like ending 1 and that’s okay!! but here’s ending two, I hope you like it better :)
[ also, this takes place in between the time that reader leaves simon/price and the last line of part two! ]
part one here, part two here, ending 1 here
your friend graciously let you live with them for a few months while you got back on your feet.
you went to therapy. stopped crying whenever you thought of him or even his name. started taking care of yourself again.
you move out and find this cute little house. it’s small, cozy. you adore it, and your friend helps you move in.
you make it your own with colors and trinkets and pictures. there’s nothing in that house that serves as a reminder of your time with him. you’d gotten rid of all the pictures, all the gifts he’d bought you before things turned sour.
fuck him. he didn’t deserve to see your growth and your happiness. he didn’t deserve anything from you.
you get used to being on your own again. it’s nice. you don’t worry about a man who is halfway across the world. don’t worry about baking a cake for his return or setting up streamers. don’t worry about how damaged he’ll be when he walks through the door.
you’re happy. you love your job, your home, your friends. you treat yourself to coffee every wednesday afternoon, and that’s when you meet him.
you’ve ordered your coffee and are sitting at one of the cafe’s little tables, scrolling on your phone, when a man clears his throat.
you look up, and he’s got the kindest smile you’ve ever seen.
“hi,” he says, and you give a small smile as you click off your phone.
“um, hi?” you say, a little unsure of why he’s speaking to you.
“not to sound weird or anything,” he begins, and you give a small laugh.
“y’know, whenever someone says that, whatever they say next does tend to sound weird.”
he nods, that smile on his lips growing a smidge wider. “right. so, I guess this will be weird then, huh? but I’ve noticed you here every wednesday, and I just wanted to tell you you’re beautiful.”
you blush. you don’t think a man has ever been so straightforward with you, and although you do think it’s kind of weird, you try to just focus on the compliment.
but your guard is up. you don’t know him.
“oh, thank you. that’s sweet,” you reply, and he’s still looking down at you.
“can I sit?” he asks, which takes you by surprise.
“um, sure? I guess?” you say, and it sounds more like a question than a statement, but he’s sliding into the seat across from you.
he introduces himself, and you tell him your name. he says it’s pretty. you’re starting to think he’s coming on too strong.
but as the two of you begin to talk, you start to realize that’s just who he is. he’s a flirt, a flatterer, but it’s good natured.
it’s easy to talk to him. he keeps the conversation going, and he seems generally interested in what you have to say. it’s a stark difference from your last relationship.
but then he tells you he’s military, and your heart nearly stops.
“oh,” you say, a small frown on your lips.
“that an issue?” he says, and his tone is teasing. he doesn’t know— how could he? but your face says it all.
his brows furrow, and he gets serious for the first time since he’d sat across from you. he starts to reach for your hand, but decides against it. again, the two of you don’t know each other, and he’s aware of that.
“I don’t have a good track record with men in the military,” you tell him, trying to lighten the mood. he can tell something’s wrong, but he doesn’t push. he takes the bait, and you’re grateful. it makes you like him even more.
that’s why you end up talking until the place closes. the employees are practically shooing you out as you and the military man apologize profusely.
you’re on the sidewalk now, and he’s smiling at you. you find yourself smiling back.
“d’you mind if I get your number?” he asks.
as much as you enjoyed talking to him, you’re still unsure. you just recovered from everything that happened— are still recovering. you don’t want to rush into anything. so, you shake your head.
“if you’re serious,” you begin, looking up at him. “I’ll see you on another wednesday.”
he nods, a mischievous smile on his face. “im up to the challenge.”
you give a small laugh, then tell him goodnight. you turn and begin to walk towards your car, and you’re smiling like an idiot.
you don’t want to get you hopes up, but that little naive part of you— a part of you you’d thought was dead and gone— is making you. you try to stamp it back down.
next wednesday, you don’t see him, and you’re a little sad about it. you don’t see him the wednesday after that, either.
you don’t see him for a few months, actually. and after a few weeks, you’ve stopped thinking about him.
but then one wednesday, you’re sitting in that coffee shop, and there he is.
he’s wearing a short sleeve shirt, and you can see fresh cuts and scrapes along his arms. he asks if he can sit, and you oblige, gesturing to the seat across from you.
“sorry for disappearing on you,” he says, and you shake your head. he doesn’t owe you anything. you barely know each other.
“that day we talked, i ended up gettin’ deployed a few days later. didn’t have your number, so…” he trails off with a cheeky smile, and you grin as you roll your eyes.
“so im to blame, hm?” you say, and he nods.
“oh, absolutely.” he’s teasing, and you laugh.
“then let’s amend that.” you hand him your phone and he lights up. he taps his number in quickly before handing the phone back to you. you send him a quick ‘hi’ so your number will pop up in his phone.
“didn’t forget about you, though,” he says, and you blush. this man certainly has a way with words. “that’s why im here. glad to see you’re still a creature of habit.”
“is that a bad thing?” you ask, and he shakes his head.
“nah, I don’t think so.”
your phone chimes then. it’s one of your friends, asking you if you can come over. you type a quick reply and start to gather your things.
“leavin’ so soon?” he says, and you give a small nod.
“friend emergency.”
he nods. “understood. well, I’ll see you around then, yeah?” he smiling as he pushes himself out of his chair.
“you do have my number now,” you remind him. “we don’t have to wait on chance encounters.”
he hums in agreement. “that’s true, but I prefer face-to-face, y’know? especially since yours is so pretty.”
“you’re a flirt,” you tell him, but you’re blushing, and he chuckles.
“guilty.”
you bid him goodbye and walk towards the exit, your mind instantly shifting gears to your friend. you don’t think about the military man again until he texts you that night.
‘friend okay?’ he types.
‘all good.’ you respond.
he’s typing back for a good minute. the bubble disappears, then reappears.
‘if there are no more friend crises for the foreseeable future, and im not shipped off to fight bad guys, how about a proper date?’
you smile as you read the message.
‘sure.’ you respond, and he sends back a smiley face.
a first date turns into a second, then a third, then a fourth. they’re spread out over a year because of his job, but you don’t find yourself minding that much. he treats you so much differently than the last man did.
he eventually asks you to be his partner, and you say yes. of course you’re a little hesitant— things with your last military man started off good, too. but you feel like it’s different this time. he’s different.
you don’t know it, but every time he’s deployed, he talks his squad’s ear off about you. tells them you’re the most beautiful person he’d ever seen, and that you’re so funny. tells them he’s gonna ask you to move in with him.
but he never mentioned your name. maybe he forgot, or maybe he just didn’t want to share that piece of you with them.
“you never shut up about this lover of yours,” simon/price says one day while they’re eating in the mess hall. although they’re not in the same squad, they’re friends, and they happen to be on base at the same time. “no way they’re real.”
your man just grins and holds out his phone, showing off his lockscreen. it’s a picture of you with your head thrown back in laughter. he’d taken it on one of your dates.
simon/price’s face darkens almost imperceptibly before he masks it. that’s you. he hadn’t thought about you in ages, but he knows that’s you in that picture. now everything comes rushing back.
your lover doesn’t notice the other man’s expression shift. he doesn’t realize that the man across from him knows you.
you had told him more about the man who broke your heart, but you’d never mentioned his name. you didn’t want to risk him knowing him.
it’s a good thing you’d never mentioned the name, because if your lover knew, he’d punch him in the jaw.
the conversation eventually shifts away from you, and simon/price is grateful. your man is none the wiser.
when he gets back home, he asks you to move in. you tell him no at first. you’re still a little broken. he understands, and doesn’t hold it against you. he takes it in stride, and you’re grateful.
you don’t know how you got so lucky this time. you don’t know how this man, who was so understanding, so kind, so caring, had practically fallen into your lap. maybe it was karma from your last relationship.
the universe crushed you once, and to make up for it, they dropped this man into your life. whatever it was, you were thankful.
the second time he asks you to move in with him, you say yes. he helps you with everything, and the whole time he’s smiling like an idiot. even when you almost drop a shelf on his toe, or when you argue with him about where to hang a picture.
you two end the night eating take out on the couch and watching trashy tv. he decides right then that he’s going to marry you one day.
a few months after you move in, he tells you he wants you to meet his friends.
you’re nervous, but he reassures you it will all be fine. tells you that they’ll love you. so, you get yourself ready and then he’s helping you into his truck, and your leg is shaking the whole way to the bar.
he puts a comforting hand on your knee. gives you a dazzling smile.
“they’ll love you,” he tells you. you nod.
when you get to the crowded bar, he leads you by the hand inside. you’re towed along behind him, so you don’t see his friends until you’re standing right in front of the booth they occupy.
you scan their faces, and you don’t recognize any of them. you’re thankful— a huge weight has been lifted off your shoulders. he introduces you to them, and you fit in easily.
the night is going well until your man mentions simon/price’s name. he couldn’t know, you’d never told him. he was telling the story of how simon/price hadn’t believed him when he was talking about you.
the rest of his friends were laughing, but you were tense. he noticed immediately, shoulder nudging yours as he leaned down to whisper in your ear.
“you okay?” he murmured, and you nodded.
he could tell you were lying, but he didn’t push it. didn’t even bring it up again until the two of you were home.
“how do you know simon/price?” he asked you as you hung your coat up on the rack. you frowned as you turned to face him.
“he was the one I dated before you. the guy who broke my heart. the one I told you about, remember?”
your man goes silent. he’s looking at you, his fists clenched at his sides. he believes you. there’s not a doubt in his mind, even for a second, that you’re not telling the truth.
“I didn’t want to tell you his name,” you admit, taking a step towards him. “in case you knew him. didn’t want to make things complicated.”
he’s still silent, his eyes trained on you as you slowly approach. an expression you can’t name paints his face.
“I understand if you want to end things,” you tell him, and that gets him moving again. he’s shaking his head. “I don’t want to come between you and your friends.”
“fuck him,” he spits, and he reaches his arms out to you. you step into his embrace and take a shaky breath. “fuckin’ bastard. I showed him a picture of you, and he didn’t say anything. I was gonna invite him tonight, but he’s on assignment, and—” he inhales sharply as his hands rest on your back. “and now im gonna break his fucking jaw.”
you push yourself back, your eyes finding your lover’s. you shake your head. “it’s not worth it. besides, don’t make any enemies within your base. you’ve got enough of those already.”
you can tell he wants to argue, but he doesn’t. he nods after a moment. silence fills the room.
“we don’t run in the same circles, usually,” he tells you, his voice quiet. “known each other since enlistment. got assigned to different squads. kept running into each other, though. kept in touch.”
“you can still—” you begin, but he interrupts.
“no, fuck him. I can’t be his friend when he’s treated you like shit. fucker will be lucky if I don’t blacken his fuckin’ eye.”
you don’t say anything. you pull yourself back towards his chest, and he holds you tight.
you don’t say anything, but your heart swells. this man, the one in your arms, is everything that he wasn’t. he doesn’t tolerate you, he celebrates you. loves you unconditionally. communicates and compromises. doesn’t pull away.
that’s why, when he asks you to marry him a month later, you say yes without thinking. because you don’t need to think.
the ceremony is small. friends and family gather and celebrate the two of you. you laugh and dance and drink the night away with the love of your life by your side.
and you don’t think of the man that broke your heart anymore. don’t give him the time of day, because you’ve moved on to something far greater. you’ve moved on to what you deserve.
a few years down the road, when your husband has finally retired, you’re making your way down the road to meet him at the coffee shop that brought you together.
someone calls your name, and your blood runs cold. you know that voice, and although you haven’t thought about who it belongs to in years, you doubt you’ll ever truly forget it.
he’s calling your name from somewhere behind you. you don’t turn around.
instead, you pull open the door of the coffee shop, step inside, and smile when you see your husband sitting at the same table you’d met him at all those years ago.
——————————————————————
author’s note:
ending 2 is finally here! while writing this, I originally pictured the reader getting with Gaz/johnny; however, I wasn’t sure how that would turn out.
how would they still work with simon/price after knowing everything? how would you go so long without hearing about/meeting gaz/johnny’s squad mates?
I didn’t know, and that’s why I scrapped the idea. You can still picture them, though! but I thought it best to have the love interest someone kinda detached from the 141.
anyways, hope you enjoyed :)
#cod mw2#cod mw2 fic#ghost cod#cod x reader#john price x reader#captain price x reader#captain john price#john price fic#john price#john price x you#simon riley x gn reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley#simon ghost riley#simon riley angst#john price angst#captain price angst#angst#fluff#kyle garrick x reader#kyle gaz x reader#john soap mctavish x reader#call of duty fic#ghost call of duty#price call of duty#captain price fic#captain price
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( OO1 ) ★ unwarranted assumptions , sukuna ryomen
featuring. sukuna ryomen x reader
warnings. cursing, college! au, sukuna and yuuji are twin brothers here lol, sukuna might be a lil ooc here (he's in love, he just doesn't know it pls spare him omg). // wc: 3.5k
ENTRY ( OO1 ) OF THE "INTO THE IPINVERSE" MILESTONE
"how do i know if i'm in love with someone?" "you want to kill everyone who gets near them." "oh, shit."
tag: @rrairey milov, ily for participating in this mwah mwah, @sad-darksoul, @sweeneyblue1 , @idkuluka, @colorful-happy-shit
sukuna and yuuji were quite the opposite. the only thing they share is their looks, and their love for basketball. that's about it. on one hand, we have itadori yuuji—the younger twin— who has a passion for basketball, is the campus' sunshine, and is always friendly to practically everyone.
on the other hand, we have sukuna ryomen—the older twin, just by twelve minutes— who also has a passion for basketball, is "considered" as one of the campus' scariest person, and is never friendly to everyone.
the two however, stuck to each other like glue. walking around campus with one another, like two peas in a pod, they did everything together. it's no longer an odd sight to see them both together — it is pretty weird if one is here, and the other is there.
despite their contrasts in personalities, the two were popular. being star athletes, constantly winning trophies for the campus, and climbing up in fame. hell, even people from different campus would drop by just to meet the two at times, it's funny.
"hey, great job on the match, yuuji."
then there was you. a friend of yuuji — the two of you met during the first semester, and have been good friends since then. however, you never really talked to sukuna. the only thing you both have exchanged were short greetings, and eye-contacts.
you had a cinch that the older twin doesn't particularly like you; but that was just your assumption. you didn't know the truth. this sole assumption was the only thing that made you cease contact with the male. in all honesty, you find him rather . . . well, intimidating. the aura he sets off was just, unsettling. so you just assumed that sukuna doesn't like you.
sukuna finds you rather, amusing. how you would only congratulate his younger brother, and not him as well despite him being next to his brother. how you would throw your gaze away the moment your eyes met his. how you would bow your head down a bit whenever you both exchanged greetings. he didn't understand why you were so intent on doing all that stuff, and so he assumed that you weren't fond of him.
the male wanted to question it, but really — it would be weird for him, and for you. so he never actually done it.
see? assumptions are such fucking party-poopers. i mean, if only the two of you had come to both of your senses and just talked instead of assuming things about one another, where you think sukuna hates you, and sukuna thinks you hated him.
"why do they do that?" sukuna finds himself asking his brother, yuuji. elbow nudging yuuji's arm lightly.
"i need names." yuuji replied back before averting his gaze to the side, watching his twin brother staring at something— or someone intently. yuuji looks over to what sukuna was so focused on, smirking lightly when he saw you in his own vision, "are y'talking about y/n?"
sukuna lightly grunted, leaning back onto the chair rest. his eyes finally ripping away from you, who was currently throwing laughs and giggles amongst your friend group.
"yeah, them. why'd they do that?" sukuna parrots.
"do what, exactly?" yuuji retorts back, leaning his cheek onto the palm of his hand, sighing out in triumph; trying to figure out where this conversation will go.
"avoid me, but not you." yuuji pops a small smile, lightly elbowing his brother's side, "what?"
"do y'like them?"
like? sukuna didn't like you. he just finds your attitude towards him amusing, and . . . maybe you confuse him a bit at the difference on how you treat yuuji and him. but sukuna would never say that to his brother, he'd never hear the end of it, he just knows it.
"like? psh, you've gotta be kidding me. i was just fucking curious about their behavior, you brat." he pushed yuuji away lightly before burying his face into his arms, heaving out a loud sigh.
yuuji chuckles, "brat? you're only twelve minutes older than i am," he sings out in a teasing manner.
sukuna swore he just finds you amusing. at first.
so why does it pisses him off that you ran to his brother's side after a match and handed him a bottle of energy drink, and not him. murmuring out strings of curses, he felt like an absolute buffoon, standing beside yuuji — drenched in sweat, using the hem of his jersey to wipe the dribbling sweat.
while yuuji had all the glory. getting a small cute, teddy bear motive handkerchief from you, an energy drink, and a congratu-fucking-lations.
"yeah — that buzzer beater was totally amazing, yuuji. congrats on winning again! not that i've ever doubt you or the rest," you complimented, and hearing 'the rest' coming out of your mouth, for some reason; pisses sukuna off even more.
the older twin swerved his shoes on the court's floor, letting his soles let out a screech as it rubbed against the shiny surface of the floor. earning both yours and yuuji's attention.
"y'alright?" yuuji asks, popping open the bottle cap of the energy drink from you. and the sight made sukuna ball his fists in annoyance — god, he didn't even know why he was feeling like such.
"yeah. 'm gonna head to change," sukuna mutters out, hesitantly turning away to leave.
and the moment he turns his body away, sukuna could hear the vivid voices of both you and yuuji exchanging goodbyes. and before he knew it, yuuji was walking alongside him, "are you really okay? you look like you need to let out a fuse."
sukuna answered with a soft hum, his eyes narrowing as he continued on walking to the locker room. still angry, frustrated, and annoyed all at once.
"y/n told me to tell you congrats, by the way."
sukuna peered over the locker's door and arched a brow, "why couldn't they tell me that themselves, hm?" yuuji chuckles, finding his brother's behavior funny; because when else was yuuji going to see sukuna act like this?
like a love struck puppy, who doesn't know they're in love.
"who knows?" yuuji shrugs, grabbing the hem of his jersey and ripping it off his body — breathing out loudly, using the handkerchief you gave him to dab the sweat on his face.
sukuna eyed his brother, squinting his eyes lightly before doing the same action, minus the handkerchief. while he was doing so, a thought passed his mind.
"how do i know if i'm in love with someone?" yuuji instantly knew who the person sukuna was talking about, but prompted to say nothing about it and just play along.
yuuji pretended to give the question a deep thought before eventually answering, "you want to kill everyone who gets near them."
sukuna stared at his brother for a short while, muttering out a subtle, "oh, shit."
the reaction was enough for yuuji to made his own conclusion, "you like y/n don't you? which explains why you're in such a shitty mood, since they only paid attention to me—"
"okay, shut the fuck up." sukuna blurted out, "so what if i fucking do, huh? it's not like they'd like me back anyways."
sukuna shuts the locker, the loud bang resounding in the almost empty locker room. yuuji broke out into a loud laugh, "there y'go, making assumptions here and there, it's not like you both have ever talked in a normal conversation before anyways. how do you know they don't like you?"
good point.
"what are you going to do without me?" yuuji sighs out exasperatedly, the younger twin approached his brother, sliding the partly (sweat) damp handkerchief into sukuna's grasp, "return this to them for me, and who knows — maybe you'll be able to make a more positive assumption or two after."
sukuna wondered why he was standing in front of you, his hand shoved out, in between his index finger and middle finger was the same handkerchief yuuji had told him to give back to you.
"the brat wants me to give this back to you." he grunted out, his voice deep and unfriendly.
you stood in front of him, blinking rapidly; not knowing of what to say, should you start off with a greeting? or just tell him thank you? or maybe congratulate him for the match?
and so you decided to do all three, in a random order.
"thank you for your win, congratulations, hi." oh, god. the moment he stared at you in plain confusion — or maybe despise, you just wanted to crawl under the ground and die right there and then.
". . . thanks." he slowly murmurs back, waiting for you to grab your small fabric from his fingers, but you never did, "are you gonna take this or what?"
sukuna wanted to punch himself on the face after you flinched at the tone of his voice, your fingers frantically ripping away the fabric from his touch, mumbling out apologies. he didn't mean for his voice to come out that harsh.
the male wasted no more time in turning his heels to walk away, noticing your tense form; instead of a more positive assumption, his assumption worsened from you hating him, to you hating and being scared of him.
". . . bye." he mutters out, walking away with long strides to go find yuuji.
and when he did, sukuna just wanted to use his younger brother as a punching bag. hell, he didn't know why he was so angry at yuuji, and himself. heavy on himself, though.
"woah, what's up with you?" yuuji pushes his brother away lightly, "how did it go? did you guys like . . . at least exchanged phone numbers or not?"
sukuna shook his head, "think they're scared of me." he mutters out, throwing his head back, stressed out.
"is that your assumption again?" sukuna didn't answer him, which confirmed the question. the younger one heaves out a loud sigh that attracted an odd look—more like a glare—from sukuna.
"i wan' to sock your face in so bad," he mutters out condescendingly, eyes boring into yuuji's face; which in a way intimidated the younger twin, of course.
with a nervous smile, yuuji raises both of his hands up in defense, "chill, 'm gonna give you their phone number, maybe y'should ask them out or something."
see, the thing is that sukuna hated texting— in a way, it's like leaving footprints everywhere. he hated all that stuff. call him old fashioned, but you know he has a pretty good point. so he refused blatantly, "no, jus' leave it to me, i'll think of something."
the gods are on his side.
"i guess, we're partners?" you asked him meekly, slipping into yuuji's empty seat since the younger one was away with his assigned partner on the other side of the lecture hall.
sukuna hums, not knowing what else to say. his eyes followed your figure as you dropped a binder on top of the table, though— one thing particularly caught his eyes. the strip of photo that was tucked beneath the binder's transparent cover, he recognized you, your two other friends, and yuuji.
why the hell was his brother there? the male had one of his eyes closed, and a toothy grin; showing off his pearly whites while his fingers are formed into a peace sign. his cheek leaning onto the side of your head.
indubitably silenced, you averted your gaze to his face slightly. seeing that his attention was on your binder, you awkwardly shifted the book away— and sukuna came into his senses, now looking onto the surface of the table.
"uh . . . should we get started then?" you proposed, and he gave out a subtle nod.
the passing half an hour was just plain awkward. awkward is an understatement, you wanted to just walk out on him— but that would be rude. plus, he's actually doing his share of work, and you did yours. only conversing when you both needed opinions on each other's results.
"so," sukuna started, breaking the silence that seemed like had been going on for like . . . forever.
"you like my brother?"
you slowly tilted your head to look at him, blinking your eyes feverishly, "what—? god, no. what? where did that even come from?" sukuna felt the knot in his stomach unknot, a little relieved to hear your answer.
"just askin', since you're both so close." he shrugs, not even sparing you a glance.
"you're assuming." you found yourself chuckling, "jus' because we're close, doesn't mean i like yuuji— i think of him more of a . . . brother figure," you informed sukuna.
"oh." he resounds, "since we're twins, y'think of me as a brother too or is that exclusive for my twin?" sukuna questions, his tone laced with mischief.
rolling your eyes, you answered him in the same joking manner, "exclusive for your twin, not like we ever talked before, y'know?" oh. right, that did shut sukuna up, his silence killing the conversation almost immediately.
his silence domineered over you. it was like he was planning to do something to you right this very moment, until your lecturer calls out that the session was finished (and how the project should be submitted next week during his session).
saved by the lecturer.
"uh . . . well, should we continue this next time then?" you asked him, packing your stationary.
"yeah, sure."
" . . . if you don't mind, can i have your number? for project purposes," jackpot. sukuna took the chance and nodded, using his pen to swiftly write his digits on your binder, "thanks, i'll text you later. bye, sukuna."
once you left his sight, yuuji pops in. grinning efficiently, "i saw that, this must be fate, i can just feel it."
"you believe in that shit? we're just gonna talk about the project." sukuna retorts back, packing his own belongings before swinging his bag strap over his shoulder.
"oh come on, you're smiling. at least your body's honest," yuuji teases, earning an up right smack to the back of his head, "if they ask where you should do the project — say our house."
absolutely not. sukuna thought.
yet here you were, sitting on the floor of his room, scribbling away on a piece of paper as he sat across from you — glancing up from his own paper from time to time, taking a swift look at your focused face before returning to his own.
sukuna couldn't focus at all. he wanted to, really. but he was alone with you in his room, this was a chance for him; to get to know you. he had so much to say, but he didn't know where to start.
yuuji, earlier in the day had even gone out to give him a list of questions to ask you so you both could have a better relationship. sukuna didn't think it was needed, since well, it is sukuna. why would he need a list for?
on the other side, you too, were dying to say something. but the permanent scowl on sukuna's face made you falter even before you could take a whiff of him.
a knock to sukuna's door was all it took for the both of you to stop scribbling, finally taking a good look of each other. and the door swung open, revealing yuuji with a white shirt and a yellow jacket on, he was holding a plate of what seemed to be chocolate chip cookies, "so— how's your project holding up?"
sukuna shrugs, "i guess, it's fine."
yuuji slid the plate on top of the wooden table, grinning lightly, "you guys getting along just fine?" he questions, squatting down.
you nodded, "we're okay."
okay? okay??? well, in a way you and sukuna are both fine. but sukuna didn't feel fine, "guess so."
the dopey smile you had on the moment yuuji entered his room made sukuna think that you didn't feel comfortable enough to be in the same room as he is, alone. and honestly, just the thought of it made his stomach churn in agony — because, why must it be his own brother that he's jealous of?
"well, i gotta go. dig in the cookies, g'luck on the project you guys," yuuji smacked sukuna's back harshly before trotting away to leave the room, mutely shutting the door.
you grabbed a piece of cookie, taking a crunchy bite out of it. marveling in delight.
"are you scared of me?"
sukuna needed to stop with the sudden questions that made your heart leap at least three miles away. widening your eyes a bit, you arched both of your brows, "wha . . . t?"
you stopped chewing altogether, eyeing the male across from you like he's crazy. i mean — if you were to be honest, you were partially intimidated by him and the aura he's giving out.
"i asked if you're scared of me," sukuna repeats, laying his pen down onto the table as he intertwined his fingers together, waiting for an answer.
you nodded, "truthfully, you're intimidating."
oh.
sukuna expected that answer, but why did it actually made his heart throb? as in — the person he likes is actually scared of him, and it broke a little part of him. however, he still has a scowl on his face and his expression unchanged.
"you have this big scowl every time i go around yuuji, and it intimidates me. so i just assumed that you hated me," sukuna blinked, brows furrowing slowly; the creases in between his brows deepening by the passing second.
"what? i assumed that you hated me." he replied, emphasizing on the 'me'. and this time you furrowed your brows, swallowing the bite of cookie you took before and wiping the crumbs off the corner of your lips in confusion.
"what? no, i don't. what? why would you even assume that?" you questioned him, now dropping your own pen onto the table, completely disregarding the project.
"why would i not? y'keep avoiding me like i'm a bad person, so i just assumed that you hated me." sukuna replies.
"i thought you hated me, because you look like you want to kill me every single time, so i just never talked to you, it was pretty scary." you retorted back, shaking your head, the cookie was now a decoration in between your fingers.
sukuna can't help but to chuckle, "so it was jus' our shitty assumptions?"
you hummed, "i guess so."
to say the least, sukuna felt like he was breathing again. yuuji was definitely right about all these assumption things — and he kept in mind that he'd praise the younger twin later (maybe). the sight of you eating a cookie in front of him made him feel a little overwhelmed, now that he got all the hard part done. he felt like he could talk with you now.
"then . . . can i get to know ya'?"
you narrowed your eyes at him, "really? no strings attached?" he raised both of his hands up in defense, shaking his head lightly, "why do you look like you want to kill me every single time then? are you plotting my murder? is this a trick?"
your questions made him pop out a light smirk, "so what if i am, huh?" he teased.
rolling your eyes, you shoved a hand out to him, "since we didn't start off in the right path, why don't we start over? i feel like this is the only appropriate way."
sukuna raised his hand up to engulf yours in his, feeling a light tingle in his chest as you squeezed his hand lightly, "i'm y/n l/n, just call me y/n. cool?"
the male scoffs, "cool. sukuna ryomen, it's only fair if you get to call me by my first name too, so . . . call me ryomen."
"ryo for short. that's your name now," sukuna arched a brow with an amused smile, nodding his head. internally doing a victory dance in his mind as he just got a nickname from you — and yuuji is just 'yuuji'.
a win for him today.
"you're a little smiley today, did something happen between y/n and you earlier?" yuuji asks, pressing the pause button on his controller to face his brother who was laying down on the couch, the corner of his lips tugged upwards.
"i'm ryo now."
"ryo as in ryomen? i mean — that's your name, so? what are you implying?" sukuna stared at yuuji with a lighthearted smile. yuuji is somehow smart to catch up with these kind of things that it sometimes baffles sukuna, "oh, i get it. so, now you both are on first name basis?"
not even first name basis. this is a nickname that they gave me. sukuna sings in his mind, breathing out in content.
"it's a nickname. they gave it to me," yuuji cooed loudly, tossing his controller aside, "y'know . . . i was assuming they didn't like me, and they assumed it was the other way. they assumed i hated them because apparently i looked like i wanted to kill them?"
yuuji pointed his finger accusingly, "see? i was right!"
sukuna rolled his eyes, "that's the first time y'have ever been right, don't get ahead of yourself."
"so — when are you planning to confess to them, hm?"
a light kick to yuuji's side was enough to send him toppling over the couch, whining out in pain, "we just became friends, and y'think i should confess? that can wait," sukuna mumbles out.
sukuna was just delighted that his assumptions were unwarranted.
© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE
#𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen fluff#fluff#jjk#jjk fluff#sukuna#sukuna ryomen#sukuna x reader#sukuna fluff#sukuna oneshot
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SIMON TAKING HIS DAUGHTER TO BASE
{✧} dad!simon once again, no one faint i don’t have insurance coverage. soap may be able to fireman lift you home.
{✧} i just wanted to write something with his work and daughters combined and thought, hmm the idea of war, blood and death doesn’t quite match up to a five year old. therefore, this was born. if you don’t fw it don’t tell me, i’ll nosedive into a pit of lava without hesitation. happy reading, kids.
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“Right,” Simon crouched down to his daughter's level, taking her small hands in his. “You stay with dad, yeah?” His finger tapped the side of her nose, the two of them stood by his jeep outside of the base. This was not allowed. He knew that.
But — today was dedicated to paperwork in his office, that was the sole purpose of coming in on his time off. The only issue being, it was a day off for someone else too. His kid. “Can you do that for me?” Thumb smoothing across her cheek, standing back up upon her nod.
“What are we even doing?” She took his extended hand and swung her arms, watching as he swiped a pass through a reader and pressed down on the bar of the door to open it. “How long will we be?”
“It shouldn’t take long, lovie.” He looked down at his little girl. “Just stay with me. Don’t let go of my hand.” Her grip tightened and Simon crossed through seemingly endless corridors and rooms to little eyes, each passing soldier giving her father a firm nod followed by an utterance of ‘sir’ in acknowledgement. She found herself looking into every crevice she could find on their voyage, straying from his side a few times to touch things.
“Where’s uncle Soap?” For every two of Simon’s steps, five of her own were taken, little feet switching between hops and skips each time.
“Not a clue.” Simon mumbled more to himself, looking around corners and turning his shoulder with every voice. “He’s here somewhere. ‘M sure he’ll find you first, kid.” She nodded, trailing her finger across the wall until they had reached his office. “Right,” He continued, fumbling in his pocket for a set of keys. “We won’t be long here, alright?”
“A’right.” She said enthusiastically, her own accent mirroring his and following him into the room. Simon hung by the door for a moment, arm above the threshold to hold himself out.
“Johnny.” He shouted after a group of men, his sergeants mohawk a dead give-away. Soap turned around instantly, something between a respectful soldier and a puppy. Ghost nodded back to his office, planting a hand on his daughter’s shoulder when she had stood next to him, on her tiptoes to see over the passing men. She was barely up to Simon’s waist.
“See him?” His hand moved to her back, eyes flitting between her own and Soap who was wrapping up a conversation, her smile growing to a grin when he had crouched down in the now clear corridor — slapping his knees before holding his arms out.
“C’mere you.” His hardy Scottish accent echoing in the bleak narrowness. She ran toward him, shrieking laughter as he tickled her sides, undeniably gathering a fair amount of attention from soldiers in close proximity. “Alright sweetheart?” Johnny picked her up, holding her against his hip and walking back to Simon’s office. “Is she allowed to be here?”
“No.” Simon answered, holding the door wide for him.
“No one’ll say anything anyway.” Johnny let her down. “Ae, missy?”
She shrugged, moving behind Simon’s desk and climbing onto the seat, small hands fidgeting with the pens that were lying around. Ghost placed his hands on his hips. The dark hoodie he wore was usual, minus the bulky tac vest and belt. “You busy?”
“Will be in,” Soap held his arm up, checking his watch. “Fifteen minutes.”
Simon nodded, looking toward his daughter who had found post-it notes, clicking a pen and doodling across multiple of them. “If you see Price, tell him I'll only be twenty. Maximum.” His eyes hadn’t left her, nodding in approval once she had held up her drawing to him. A stickman.
“Will do, Lt.” Soap crossed his arms over his chest and shifted in his stance. “She’s looking more and more like you. Getting big.” He mumbled the last part, shaking his head slowly as if time had passed like he was a pensioner.
“Hm,” Simon grunted in response. “I’ll see you before I leave, yeah?’
“No bother.” Soap saluted the little girl, taking a post-it she had held up toward him. “Is that me?” He pointed toward himself, folding it and slipping the note into the pocket of his tac vest after she had nodded.
“You’re leaving?”
“I have to darlin’.” His thumb caressed her cheek, taking the discarded pen and doodling his own drawing of her. “Whose that?” He smiled, sliding the post-it toward her.
“That’s not me.” She giggled, pushing it back toward him with a grin. “You’re bad at drawing.”
Simon tsked, moving behind his desk and picking her up to sit on his lap. “Eh! That is so you!” Soap’s accent bounced off the walls causing an eruption of laughter from the little girl and Simon turned the computer monitor further toward him. Thick arms huge next to hers that clung onto them to get a better view of the desk.
A short knock sounded through the room and Johnny moved from the door, hands clasped together as Price walked in. His eyes and demeanor instantly softened at the sight. “Kept this one quiet, Simon.” He chuckled, taking short steps forward to pass him some documents stamped with red classified text.
She smiled at Price although shyed into Simon’s neck, “What is this?” He asked, bouncing his knee up and down to subconsciously entertain his daughter.
“Read it later.” He instructed, nodding once at his sergeant. “Johnny, aren’t you on drill today?” Price stood with his legs a good distance apart, thumbs slotted into his pockets to splay fingers wide over his thighs.
“Ten minutes, sir.”
“And Simon, you’re eh— you’re off aren’t you?” Price continued, smiling at his daughter who was staring up at him with small hands clung to her dads neck. “Take it you’re not here for long.”
He shook his head, leaning back in the chair with hands behind his head. “Just ten minutes or somethin’, finishing these off before Monday.”
“Right.” He nodded. “Mind and not stay for long, yeah? You’re scheduled off for a reason.” Soap held the door open for him, watching as he left with a cautious look on both sides of the corridor before stepping out.
Soap leaned out of the door, eyes following the captain until he was out of view, spinning back on his heel to Simon. “Open it.” Came his intrusive thoughts, nodding toward the classified envelope that had been tossed to the side.
“No.”
“Aw c’mon, we’re both 141.” He slid a seat out in front of the desk, “Just open it.” The letter opener was spun across the desk. “Ae?” Face scrunched up in a convincing nod toward Simon’s daughter. Although, she was busy attempting to climb onto the desk, and would’ve had her fathers hand not prevented it with one swoop. “Tell your dad to open the wee letter.”
“Open the wee letter.” She repeated, maneuvering onto her back across his lap and slowly sliding down onto the floor.
Johnny held his hands out in a way that proved his own innocence, as if that saying was her own doing. “The boss has spoken.” He gestured toward the little girl who stood on her tiptoes to look out the small window.
“Haven't you got drills to run?” Simon said bluntly, dotting his pen and blankly staring at Soap.
“Oh shit.” He pushed the chair in haphazardly.
“You’re leaving now?”
Johnny nodded toward the small girl who held her fist out for him to bump his on. A habitual thing learnt by none other than the Scotsman himself, much to Simon’s unreasonable displeasure.
“Shit.” She mumbled to herself.
“Johnny.” Simon scowled.
“Catch ye, Lt!”
i’m clawing the walls for price.
simon ‘ghost’ riley taglist: @vamppxncess @crowbird @misshoneypaper @tallrock35 @fluffmonster @islanderr @blueoorchid @lea3773 @coldflapjack @rayhawk05 @han11dh @liishook @melovetitties @fallonx @rvjaa @fuckmelifesucks @bhayatsara @takeomisbitch @local-spidey @konigsblog @penutjuice @babychoi03 @sheluvzeren @sparklingtragedy @maviee @wiserebelpartypie @daddylorianisastateofmind @bhayatsara @mistydeyes @writingmysanity @johfaam0 @idkjoequinn @gressseyy @fwibblefwobble @shibble @maladaptivedaydreamingbum @airghostlyfox @hotgirlsshareaccounts @simpxinnie @dilfdotgov
as always comments are reblogs are greatly appreciated! if no one pats me on the head every now and then i’ll sit in a hole.
↳ requests are open for dad!simon stuff although see the masterlist for more info.
#simon ghost riley#cod mwii#cod mw2#cod mw fanfiction#ghost mw2#simon riley#simon riley headcanons#ghost headcanons#ghost call of duty#ghost cod#cod mw ghost#ghost#simon riley fanfic#ghost fanfiction#cod fanfic
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FANTASIZING ABOUT a whiny Choso Kamo ♡︎.
He’s whiny because it the first time he’s ever felt the euphoric sensation of his cock sliding deliciously across your warm gummy walls as you rode him. Bouncing slowly on his cock and grinding your clit on his pelvis whenever you came down. You leaned your body back while holding his thighs for support, and gave him a full view of what you were doing to him, watching as he disappears into your cunt, and the way a small bulge forms on your lower stomach from having to accommodate him inside you.
His face contorted with pleasure and quiet moans escape his lips. He grips the sheets instead of holding your hips, knowing that he’d hurt you if he held you, and that was the last thing Choso ever wanted. He’d be plagued with guilt if he hurt the first person to introduce him to such pleasures and he cared for. “Y-Y/n, fuck… ‘t’s so good,” he moaned and he threw his head back with a whine when he felt you clench around him. It wasn’t hard to pick up on the fact that his sounds were exciting you, even if he didn’t intend for it too, but he’s glad he can please you in some way.
No matter how much Choso wants you to speed up, he won’t say a word in fear of being too demanding or needy. You find him so cute too, watch him whimper and bite his lower lip while your wetness coated his shaft, making every inch of your joined bodies slick and slippery. His flushed face was scrunched up as he screwed his eyes shut, caught up in the moment and feeling himself become fully immersed, the only thing he’s aware of is the way you squeeze around him. “fuck— I can’t... ‘m not gonna last,” he whined, upset that he was close already.
Unable to handle it any longer, Choso sat up from lying on his back and grabbed your hips with shaky hands. He peppered sweet kisses along your jawline and down to your neck before burying his face in the crook of your neck. “Dove, little bird, let me— fuck… can I fuck you? Please, i’ll make it quick babe, just... ngh! let me use you.” And the minute you give him permission, he’s rutting into you like an animal. Setting a relentless and sloppy rhythm that was designed to bring him closer to the edge. His moans grew louder at the new pace and his fingers dug into your skin, but trying to be mindful of your frail body. They were like music to your ears and you had a sudden desire to make him moan more, to make him come undone from your cunt alone. Choso's grip on your hips tightened even more as he felt an unfamiliar tingle building in his body, but he knew it wassignaling his own impending release, learning for your ‘private’ lessons. His hips picked up speed, thrusting into her pussy like a possessed man.
“Are you going to cum? Going to cum inside of my pussy?” You pant, your breath warm against his ear as your hands explored the expanse of his chest. "That's it, baby," you grunted, your voice deep and thick with pleasure. "Give yourself to me." His head was spinning from your brazen words and a pathetic whimper escaped his lips. With one final thrust, Choso felt his release wash over him. He grunted, his body tensing as he emptied himself into you, his cum mingling with your wetness. The pleasure radiated through him, leaving him momentarily breathless and sated. It’s like he’s walking on clouds and he’s entered a whole new world, a world filled with of pleasure and happiness with endless possibilities. His vision goes black and all he can think about is how good it feels to push himself to the pinnacle of joy, and he doesn’t think he can ever give this up now that he’s got a taste for it.
But Choso doesn’t stop fucking you, adamant about helping you see the light just like he did. Even though he’s fucking himself into overestimation, all he cares about is making you finish. Thankfully, your orgasm wasn’t to far off after being filled with Choso’s seed. You grip his back and dig your nails into his skin, dragging down to leave angry scratches along the expanse of his back, making Choso groan in pain. Finally teetering off the edge and cumming on his cock, bucking your hips wildly from the intensity of the orgasm and cum drips out of you. A loud cry ripped from your throat.
When you come down from your high, both of you are left panting and sitting in silence as you stew in your orgasmic bliss. Choso came up from your neck, opting to gaze at you. He held your hair back, exposing your flushed face to his view, your eyes glazed over with pleasure. The sight of your beautiful features contorted by pleasure was almost too much for him to bear. As your body trembled against him, Choso felt himself become hard again, ready to go and experience that state of bliss for another time. You whined when you felt him harden inside of you, reawakening your own desires again. Choso pouted cutely, kneading one of your breasts between his fingers, kissing the base of your throat, and rolling his hips to provide friction.
“Again… make me cum again please, dove. Can’t get enough of your pussy.”
#[𓆩⟡𓆪] xoxo love…#black reader#black y/n#choso kamo#jjk choso#choso x reader#jujutsu kaisen choso#choso smut#choso x you#choso x y/n#choso x female reader#jujutsu kaisen#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#choso kamo x reader#choso kamo x you#choso kamo x y/n#choso kamo x female reader#choso kamo smut#jjk kamo#jjk x y/n#jjk smut#kamo x reader
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Prince and the Frog — Housewardens x gn! reader
summary: you find yourself cursed and you go to your prince to lift it.
tw: none that I can think of.
a/n: I saw something about the princess and the frog and got inspo. This is so fun, goofy, and lovely, I hope y'all enjoy <3
wc: 1.9k (~300 each character)
Master List
You weren’t sure what you’ve done to deserve this, but even you felt it wasn’t enough. I mean a frog? Really? And the cure was a true love's kiss? Seriously? Can it get any more cliche? You might as well search for a princess and turn her into a frog as well and then set off into a journey of personal growth…you suppose a prince will have to do. You went to the first person you thought could help, time to see if they really would still love you if you were a worm, err…frog.
Riddle Rosehearts
Okay, so maybe Riddle wasn’t technically a prince, but a queen is a step above that, no? You were a little scared of his reaction, but you couldn’t stay a frog forever. Not to mention that someone else had cursed you, it’s not like you turned yourself into a frog. So when you managed to find him he freaked out, mouth agape as you explained your situation. Thank the sevens you could still talk. Riddle’s face soured, lips twisted into a scowl. At first you thought he was going to find a way to collar you in your current slippery state, but he ended up ranting about the person who cursed you, asking for any details that you could provide. The thought of kissing you to break the curse hadn’t even crossed his mind, instead skipping straight to punishing the fool who’d curse the Queen’s rose and making them reverse it. It was then that you learned just how quickly Riddle could sniff someone out if he wanted to, because the effects had been reversed by the end of the same day. (If that doesn’t show you how much he loves you then I don’t know what can).
Leona Kingscholar
…are you sure about this? I mean…yeah he’s a prince and all but he might just toss you mistaking you for a random frog who dared to encroach on his space. The type to argue he wouldn’t have to love you if you were a worm cause how ridiculous is that? Well…not so ridiculous now, huh? Thankfully, you had found Ruggie first, explaining your situation and asking for him to bring you to Leona. Not so thankfully, Ruggie found the entire thing hilarious and had to take a moment to calm himself down. He kept snickering to himself the entire way to Leona, making you want to die, or just stay a frog and live a happy life in a nice little pond and start a little froggy family. When Ruggie managed to tell Leona what was going on in between laughter Leona just stared at you like you were the stupidest motherfucker. Hey! It wasn’t like you were asking to be cursed! Has an internal conflict on what to do. On one hand he wants to prove he’s your true love, and kissing you seems to be the quickest way to get this over with…on the other you are a literal frog. Shooing Ruggie away, Leona bemoaningly gave you the quickest peck ever, making a face of disgust as he pulled away. The transformation back took a few seconds, but the look of disgust quickly turned to a smug smirk, feeling proud that you were truly his.
Azul Ashengrotto
Okay, so again, not an actual prince…but he excelled at potions, so it only made sense…except he’ll probably make you sign your life away. So maybe not a good choice once again. I pray for you because one if not both of the Leech twins are gonna find you first and they’re gonna have a field day. ‘My, you’d look perfect in one of my terrariums’ Jade would note. Floyd would probably accidentally kill you because this entire situation is oh so hilarious and he forgot he’s supposed to be holding you gently. After the two have their fun (Jade plays with you and his terrarium like you're a doll in a dollhouse), they finally bring you to Azul, laughing their asses off in their own ways. Azul stares at you blankly as the two eel brothers leave, trying his hardest to not laugh. His face is red from concealing his humor, looking to the side to collect himself. He’ll offer you the cure, but for a price. Kiss you? He has a reputation to upkeep you know. He can’t be seen kissing frogs, imagine what that’ll do to his image! No, no, just sign the contract, and to sweeten the deal he’ll have the twins deal with the pest who thought it was a good idea to curse his angelfish. If you really persist, he’ll give in eventually. To be fair, he is also curious to see if you're his true love, but on the other hand he’s terrified if you're not. He doesn’t want to lose you. And to both your delight, you transform back after he gives you a small kiss on your little froggy head…he’s also running laps in his mind at how happy he is.
Kalim Al-Asim
He’s a prince and won’t think twice! He loves you truly, so it has to work! Too bad Jamil stumbled upon you first. Adamantly tries to hide you from Kalim and he feels his headache growing ten times worse. Why did you stupidly get yourself cursed? He asks like you did it on purpose. You didn’t know why the guy cursed you either! Jamil keeps you tucked in his hoodie until he can find time to bring you to Professor Crewel. You tried to fight him at first as you’d rather stay a frog than get detention for something you had no control over, but Jamil knew how to keep a tight leash on the unruly…it was his job after all. Unfortunately for him, Kalim walked into the kitchens right as you hopped out of his pocket. At first he was confused, and then even more confused, and then ecstatic. You hopped over to him, asking for him to protect you from Jamil (who was giving you a major side eye). Then you explained your predicament, and Jamil butted in about bringing you to Crewel. Innocently, Kalim offered to kiss you. No need to bother Crewel if the cure was so simple! Jamil couldn’t stop him in time, as Kalim kissed you the second he finished the sentence. Even Jamil couldn’t hide his disgust for a second at the action. Thankfully, Kalim was your true love as you had transformed back, and he hugged you gleefully. Unfortunately for Kalim, you refused any of his kisses until he rinsed his mouth (lmao).
Vil Schoenheit
Another queen. Best person to go to. He can whip up any cure just as fast as he can whip up any potion/poison. Rook, saw the whole encounter with the other student, and brought you to Vil without a second thought. He already knew everything about the idiot who cursed you so no need to stick around. Vil’s gaze turned into a disapproving stare as he looked at you. Even though Rook tried to stick up for you, dramatizing the whole event as stating how brave you were to face such a curse head on, Vil only shook his head. He motioned for Rook to follow him, not wanting to pick you up. He loves you, really he does, he just can’t afford to get his clothes dirty or stained. He picks the ingredients effortlessly, starting to brew the cure without a second thought. Both you and Rook seemed to want to get on his nerves as you both prattle on about true love and how he should kiss you. He didn’t expect you to be a cheesy sap (he’s lying), besides, don’t you know how many curses list true love’s kiss as the cure? The meaning is pointless. Besides, he doesn’t need some curse to prove his love for you, hasn’t he shown you how much you mean to him already? Or was he lacking, because he didn’t think you’d doubt him. Either way, you’re drinking the cure, he couldn’t risk that your slimy frog skin might make him break out. But don’t worry, if you really have room to doubt his love, he’ll make sure you can’t within the week.
Idia Shroud
Hahaha. Again, are you sure? He’s always holed up in his room, the only chance you're brought to him is if Ortho finds you (or vice versa). At first Ortho found you adorable, cooing at you as he floated to Idia’s room. He thought this was the perfect opportunity to show both you and Idia just how much you care for the other. How could either of you doubt the other if it's sealed with a true love's kiss? It was a brilliant opportunity! (Orthos a little too into this). He barely let his brother welcome them in before barging in and shoving a frog (you) into Idia’s face. At first Idia screeched, falling out of his gamer chair and scrambling away from the amphibian. Was Ortho pranking him? That’s totally uncool, he wasn’t some normie. But then Ortho happily blabbed about you and the curse and then it clicked…YOU WERE A FROG? Now he’s rolling on the floor laughing at you. You’d smack him if you WEREN’T A FROG. After he’s done laughing it up, he then freezes. Ortho wants him to kiss you? B-but that's gross! Who knows what diseases he’ll get if he kisses you. k. Wait, don't go to someone else! Fine, he’ll do it, but he won’t like it. Inside, he’s absolutely terrified. His mind is running a mile a minute. He doesn’t think you’ll actually turn back, someone like him doesn’t deserve true love…so imagine the face he makes when you do. Face a bright red, his hair a bright pink. Oh no, he feels faint. Give him a peck on the lips to finish him off.
Malleus Draconia
Uh oh. Queue the thunder and lightning. Whoever cursed you is the stupidest motherfucker. Malleus is the one to stumble upon you this time, to the disdain of his family. Lilia on one hand wanted to laugh about the situation, on the other, he knew he’d have to protect the stupid human from being smite for cursing Malleus’ love. Silver and Sebek are sweating as Malleus holds you gently in his hands. If he thought you were gentle as a human, he’s being ten times more careful with you in your froggy state. On the outside, he’s silent and brooding, on the inside he’s lamenting on finding you an enclosure where you can be happiest. What type of tank, soil, plants, water…someone please tell him this is reversible. Lilia chimes in before the rain outside can get worse, mentioning true love's kiss is able to reverse the effects. Malleus’ green slitted eyes never move from your tiny form, he finds you absolutely breathtaking even as a frog (this man is down so bad), but he’s nothing but relieved when he hears the news. Human lifespans are already small as is, he would’ve been completely gut wrenching if that time was cut even shorter. Another one who doesn’t hesitate to kiss you. This man would love you if you were a worm. He strokes your moist skin gently as he leaves a small kiss to your adorable head. His entire being, soul, mind and body all belong to you, and if that isn’t true love then I don’t know what is. His eyes shine brightly as you transform back, holding you gently as he promises to protect you from any miscreant that dares even look at you wrong…yeah so the guy who cursed you is still fucked and now you have a protective dragon at your heel 24/7.
#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#twst wonderland x reader#riddle rosehearts x reader#leona kingscholar x reader#azul ashengrotto x reader#kalim al asim x reader#vil schoenheit x reader#idia shroud x reader#malleus draconia x reader#twisted wonderland#twst#twst wonderland#riddle rosehearts#leona kingscholar#azul ashengrotto#kalim al asim#vil schoenheit#idia shroud#malleus draconia
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Alastor X Reader - Dressing Up As Him
"Hum hum hum~♫" Alastor was walking around the hotel lobby, humming a tune to himself as his eyes scanned all of the inhabitants at the hotel. Charlie and Vaggie were putting up more banners and decor in the lobby, Nifty was sweeping, and Husk and Angel Dust were at the bar. Alastor kept looking around to spot you, but he had no luck. Heading over to the bar, he leaned over the counter, smiling his signature grin. "Ah, Husker my good friend! Having a good day?" Alastor said, as he gazed at the grumpy cat, wiping a glass with a towel. "F*** off." said Husk, as he glared at Alastor, not wanting to deal with him. "Hey smiles~ Looking sexy as always." said Angel Dust, as he leaned back slightly on the bar stool, winking at Alastor. "Please refrain from flirting with me Angel.” Alastor said, extending his mic towards Angel, trying to move him away. "Ah your no fun." said Angel as he pushed Alastor's mic away from, and crossed his arms, placing them on the bar stand. "Anywho! Have any of you seen y/n? I didn't happen to see them in the lobby." Husk just shrugged his shoulders, as he didn't really know where you were, but he also answered quickly as he just wanted Alastor to leave. Angel dust was nice enough to answer as he told Alastor that he had heard you, rummaging around your room along with music playing in the background. He was gonna bother you, wondering what was happening, but he decided not to, and left you alone. "Thank you Angel! I will go find them now!” said Alastor as he walked away from the bar, missing the wave from Angel and the middle-finger from Husk.
Heading towards your room, Alastor was hoping that you were alright. Before, Alastor didn't really care much about you when he first met you as he though of you as another simpleton staying at the hotel, but after talking and hanging out with you a few times, he slowly started to care about you as he found you to be a rather sweet soul that wasn't common to see in Hell, with the exception of Charlie. Of course, he would hide that from the others as he had a reputation to uphold as being "the radio demon", so the less the people knew he had a kind heart, the better. Arriving at your door, Alastor knocked a significant beat, calling out your name, hoping for an answer. He could hear what sounded like electric swing playing in your room, but no response from you. He wanted to barge in, but he thought that would be rude so he continued to knock until you answered.
Standing in front of the mirror, you were eyeing yourself to make sure everything was set in place, and your outfit was fitted perfectly to yourself. You were wearing a striped red coat on top of a red dress shirt with a black bow tie that matched with the dress pants and black shoes, along with the outfit, you had on a red wig with a deer ear headband on top of it. Yes, you were wearing Alastors exact outfit. You really loved Alastors look, and you actually wanted to cosplay as him, but you would never tell Alastor that, as you didn't want to weird him out if he had caught you wearing his outfit, thinking you were some type of creep. You did remember that Alastor was very close to the overlord, Rosie, who owned the big emporium, so you had confided with her if she could help with your cosplay idea. Rosie was very surprised, but found your efforts cute and she actually was able to connect you with the tailor that designed a lot of Alastors clothing. It took a while, but you were able to get the whole outfit from the tailor, and you couldn't be more excited and happy to try it out. You had everything fitted to a T, but the only thing missing was the microphone, but you could think of an idea for that later. Staring at your reflection, you stretched your mouth into a wide smile, trying to match Alastor. The smile looked great, but holding that smile all day was going to be very difficult as your cheeks started to ache. Sighing, you turned away from the mirror and headed towards the radio to turn the music down. As the music died down, the thumping beat from the door, alerted your prescence: "Yes, who is it?", you called out. "Hello, Its me, darling. Are you well? I noticed you were not with the others in the lobby, so I decided to pay you a visit!” Oh No! Alastor was here, in front of your room. You couldn't bear for him to see you, wearing his outfit. "Um, I'm okay. Just tiding a bit, don't worry." You lied, as you were hoping Al would head back to the lobby. "Ah, I see! Well you wouldn't mind if I come inside, do you? I would very much like to have a nice chat.", Alastor said, as he continued to stand at the door on the other side. Oh Satan, he was not planning on leaving. Panicking, you run towards the door, unlocking it, to signify to Al it was open, before running towards your bathroom, closing the door.
Entering inside Y/N room, Al looked around your room, but didn't spot you anywhere. "Darling? Where are you?," Alastor called out, as he made his way further into your room, standing with his hands behind his back. "I'm in the bathroom, Al. Just washing up a bit. You can sit on the bed and we can chat from here." He had heard you call out. Arching his eyebrow, Alastor found it a bit strange, but he didn't question anything further, and made his way over to the bed, and sat down. As he gazed around the room, Alastor happened to spot something on the floor. As he gazed closer, he recognized it was a bow tie that was similar to his. Reaching out and picking it up, he eyed it and questioned to himself why this was in your room. "Darling?" "Yes, Al?," you said behind the door. "I found a bow tie that is similar to mine in your room. Do you know why this is here?"
Panicking, you looked down and saw that the bow tie was no longer on your shirt. "Sh**!", you whispered to yourself, as you tried to come up with another lie to tell Alastor. "M-maybe you left it here by accident." you said, mad at yourself that you stuttered. "I would happen to remember losing something like this the last time I visited you." Alastor said, as he kept eyeing the bow tie, turning it around to eye it. You stood on the other side of the door, realizing that he didn't buy it. "T-hen umm-", you froze, stuck on what to say next. Alastor noticed your change in tone, getting up from the couch and making his way towards the bathroom door. "Darling~, is there something you are not telling me perhaps?", Alastor said, smirking to himself, as he stood in front of the bathroom door. "N-no.", you said, as you heard voice more clearly now. "Then why do I sense such nervousness in your voice?", he said, as he continued to stand in front of the door, inching closer to hear you. "I-I." Stuttering, you couldn't think of another thing to say as Alastor figured out you were acting odd. "Darling~, What are you hiding? Come on out.," Al sang behind the door, as his smile got wider, enjoying the situation you were in. "OKAY! ok. I'll come out, but could you back away from the door a bit and also close your eyes please?", you said, letting Al know you were ready to come out. Al raised an eyebrow that you wanted him to close his eyes, but he said nothing, as he walk backwards, and shut his eyes.
Opening the door, you saw Alastor standing in the middle of your room, hands folded behind his back, eyes shut, and his signature grin on his face. Standing a few feet from him, you told him to open his eyes, while you cast your eyes down to the ground. Alastor opened his eyes, and he was put back for a second as he saw you dressed to the nines in what look to be his clothes. Everything you were wearing was matching him, and the only thing that was missing was his mic staff and the bow tie, that he was holding in his hand. Looking up, you noticed Al's face was stunned, but he was still smiling. "Before you say anything, just know that I'm wearing this for cosplay reasons. I'm not a freak and these were custom-made for me, they are not from your room, I swear." you blabbed all of this out, twiddling with your fingers, and looking back down towards the floor. Silence filled the room, after you were done talking. You were afraid to look back at Al, as you were expecting to see radio dials in his eyes.
"HAHAHAHAHA! My my, how dapper you look, darling!” Alastor laughed out, along with his mic that started playing a laugh track. Looking back at him, you weren't expecting a reaction like this from him. "Y-your not upset?" you questioned Al, as you continued to twiddle your fingers. "Upset? Why no, darling! Is that why you were hiding from me? Cause you figured I would be upset?" said Alastor, as he tilted his head at you. "Well, I didn't want to disturb you if you saw me wearing your outfit." "Well, I must admit I was surprised, but I am not upset. But I do have to ask, why are you dressed up like me?", he said, as he approached you, red glowing eyes staring at you, and his award winning smile on his face. Sighing, you explained to Alastor that you really enjoyed his look and outfit, so you wanted to cosplay as him. Alastor smiled softly at you, and hooked his finger under your chin, raising your head to look at him. "You are quite adorable aren't you, my dear." he said, as he then let your chin go, and began tying the bow tie back onto you, finishing it quickly and taking a step back. "There we go, dear! All set! Now we just need a smile! Come on dear, smile!" Alastor said, as he leaned closer towards your face, smiling wide. Blushing, you looked away for a second before giving Al a smile as big as his. "Perfect! I must say you make a good me!” Alastor said, as he placed his hand on your head, giving it a rub. "Thanks Al." you said, as you blushed and looked down again. "Now, since you want to be like me, we could engage in some carnage in the city! Imagine, the radio demon and his doppelgänger causing mayhem to the denizens of the Pride ring! Quite a premise!" said Alastor, extending his hand out like he was giving a performance in a play. "Um, sorry, but no thanks. I know we are in hell and all, but I'm still not use to all the violence and carnage yet." You said, as you looked at Alastor shyly. "Aw, don't be such a wet blanket , my dear." Alastor said, as he looked at you again, still smiling, but his ears were dropped down, signifying that he was a little sad. "Sorry , Alastor. Maybe we could do something else instead, like head to a cafe or go to one of Mimzy's shows?", you said. "Hmmm. Fair enough." Alastor said, as his ears perked up after he heard you say that. Hooking your arm in his, he pulled you next to him, as he raised his fingers up, ready to use his powers to teleport: "Lets go, my dear! I feel like this is going to be very entertaining!”
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In which Astarion's confession doesn't go as planned
WARNINGS: Angst, normal warnings for talk of Astarion's backstory ie sexual abuse and talk.
Astarion wanted to be honest with you. You deserved honesty. You were wonderful and you deserved something real. He wanted things between you two to be real. But when he went to tell you all this, he'd cut himself off before he could get to that part. The hurt on your face had made the words die in his throat. Tears welled in your eyes and he could only watch in horrified silence as the realization that he had used you set in.
"I am so sorry," was all he could get out.
You let out a shaky sigh and turned your gaze to your feet, "I'm sorry as well that I made you feel like you had to put yourself through that for my protection. I shouldn't have been so bold in my desires for you. You've always been more than that to me and you owe me nothing."
Astarion wanted to vomit at hearing you blame yourself for his betrayal. Sure, your eyes had practically been hearts upon first glance at him and that had made it easy for him to choose you as his target, but that wasn't your fault. You'd had a crush and he'd used it against you.
"Tav, I," he reached out for you but you flinched away from him.
His hand hung in the air.
"It's ok Astarion. I'll be ok. I just need to be alone right now, if you want to feed from me once I fall asleep feel free. I still just want you to be safe and happy," you still wouldn't meet his eyes and that hurt the most. The fact that you didn't trust him to see your tears anymore.
He tried to speak again but you finally met his gaze and the pain he saw in it knocked the wind out of him.
"Thank you for being honest with me, please don't think this means I want you out of the camp. Please stay with us, I promise to get over myself and not bother you anymore with my feelings," you said.
Your voice was steady and you thanked whatever god you could think of for it. You couldn't let Astarion leave just because you were an idiot who couldn't control their romantic desires for him.
Astarion was in awe of your selflessness. He'd just broken your heart and all you said was that you hoped he stayed with the group. You should have screamed at him, slapped him even, gods knew he deserved it. But this, this kindness, was something he didn't deserve. He didn't deserve you. So he held the words he'd rehearsed over and over back. I want us to be real. You deserved real with someone better. Someone who wouldn't hurt you like this.
You'd turned away then and gone off somewhere in the forest. When Karlach had asked him he'd just said you needed some time alone. You didn't come back all night. Astarion took watch and spent the entire night staring into the fire wanting to burn himself alive. The shame was killing him. This wasn't something he'd done because Cazador had ordered it, he'd manipulated you over and over of his own free will. He'd listened as you opened up to him about your own issues with intimacy and past traumas from awful partners. He'd made you feel safe and loved with him, all just so you'd protect him. You hadn't deserved that. No one truly did.
The next morning you were back at camp cooking breakfast as it was your turn. Ever the dutiful leader. You were much quieter than usual and everyone glared at him for it. You two hadn't been exactly subtle about your budding romance and now you could barely look at him.
After giving everyone their food, you'd excused yourself back to your tent with a mumble about not sleeping well. It was an obvious fact due to the major bags under your eyes.
"What did you do?" Lae'zel spat with her fork pointed menacingly at him.
He tried to avoid everyone's gaze, especially the hope and glee that filled Gale's. It was also no secret the wizard had a crush on you and the idea of him finding pleasure in the demise of your relationship made all the goodwill the two had built up dissipate immediately. The girls were just glaring at him with friendly protectiveness but he still knew any of them would take the opportunity to jump your bones.
He seethed under it all, "We aren't together anymore and that's all the rest of you need to know." Nosy bastards.
"So you broke up with her," Halsin chimed in without taking his eyes off his breakfast like the calm annoying asshole he was, "her eyes were filled with too much passion for you for it have been her to break things off."
That instantly cooled Astarion's anger and want to lash out. Did you really look at him with love so obvious? All your other companions just nodded along to the druid's statement.
I hadn't wanted to break up with her, I'm just not ready for . . . whatever this all is.
Karlach gasped dramatically and he jumped up at the realization that they had all heard his thought.
"Get out of my head you bastards. Who I have in and out of my bed is no one's business but mine. Tav and I had our fun but now its run its course," Astarion spat at them all before stalking off into his tent.
The rest of your companions gave each other a knowing look.
"I just want them both to be happy!" Karlach cried.
Gale shook his head, "Well maybe they will be happier apart."
They all glared at him knowing the ulterior motives he had behind the statement.
You were trying your hardest to just be normal. Everyone had given you sidelong glances as you attempted to just pack up camp and move on with your adventure, but no one pushed you to talk. Astarion hadn't left his tent the whole time which had made it slightly easier to ignore the change in your relationship. But now, he was still inside it while everyone else was basically ready to go.
You stood outside his tent flap regretting becoming the de-facto leader of this group because it meant that it was left to you to get his ass out. Before his prissiness had been annoying but amusing. Now you were just annoyed since it meant you had to face your ex not even a full 24 hours after he'd told you in no uncertain terms that your whole relationship was just a lie.
It wasn't the first time you'd been used and discarded but it'd hurt more. It'd hurt because it wasn't his fault. All Astarion had known for 200 years was torture and manipulation, of course he'd perpetuate that cycle. You should have seen it. Why would Astarion ever want you anyway?
You took a deep breath in an attempt hold back the tears and tried to muster up the courage to knock on his tent post. But he scrambled to the entrance before you got the chance.
Astarion opened up his flap the second he realized you were standing outside his tent with a pathetic urgency and hope. He'd been meditating and had been too distracted to be fully aware of his surroundings. His chest squeezed at the knowledge you'd been reluctant to enter his tent. You were still welcome and wanted in his space anytime.
You raised your brows at him clumsily tripping over himself.
"H-hello Tav, what brings you over?" Astarion tried to save his dignity by standing up straight but the stuttering didn't help.
You frowned, face filled with concern at him being so off-kilter, "I just came over to let you know we are ready to head out whenever you are. Let me know if you need anything."
You internally kicked yourself for seeming like such a partner. You should have said any of you would help. No wonder he felt so obligated to play into your affections, you couldn't even turn it off when he'd explicitly told you he didn't want it.
Astarion could see you getting in your head about everything you said. He wanted to reach out and wipe away the crease in your brow and kiss the tip of your nose like he would've done just yesterday. But today it wasn't his place. He'd thrown that away.
Instead he just cleared his throat and said, "Thank you my dear. I'll get my ass in line quickly."
He tried to smile but it didn't reach his eyes. You flinched at the term of endearment, nodding and quickly turning away before you could truly react to it in front of him.
Astarion watched you walk away, only turning to pack up his things once you'd gone out into the forest yet again.
The continuous trek to Baldur's Gate was even worse now that you didn't have a cute rogue in your ear entertaining you. Instead now you had a know-it-all wizard practically breathing down your neck.
You'd known Gale had a crush on you but it'd never felt real. You hadn't even considered him before Astarion joined your group because it felt like you were just a stand in for Mystra. Gale didn't really want you, he wanted a partner and was trying to force you to fit his ideal version of that.
But then again, maybe you weren't the best judge of these things. Everything had felt real with Astarion. Even when he dissociated during intimacy, you'd felt able to pull him out of it and remind him that he could refuse you. He'd made you feel loved and wanted, but now you knew all of it had been a farce.
Gods he was a good actor and you were a fool.
Astarion seethed behind you as Gale pathetically vied for your attention. Gale barely even knew you yet he'd convinced himself he loved you. It made Astarion sick. Astarion had actually taken the time to speak with you, making him feel more justified in his own pining. Guilt stabbed him again as he remembered that he'd taken all the knowledge he'd learned of you to twist the knife further into your back. Even though his intentions had been nefarious, the end result of all his time spent with you left him in the same place as the wizard. Hopelessly in love with you.
At lease his love was based in reality though. That still made him better than Gale.
"Gale, leave our leader be. Her mind is already too clouded with her unrequited feelings for the vampire spawn," Laezel spat at the oaf. It made Astarion like her both more and less at the same time.
Gale turned around to glare at her while you kept your eyes forward to avoid seeing said vampire spawn's reaction.
Your shoulders slumped and you sighed exasperated, "Thank you Laezel for your tact and care when it comes to personal matters."
Everyone was now looking at Astarion, everyone but the one person he desperately wanted to as your head never even turned.
He scoffed and kept moving forward. That was all he could do. Speaking would have betrayed too much.
The rest of your day went by without a hitch or another awkward comment. You came upon an abandoned town with not much left to loot, but with intact houses that would provide protection for a night.
You all agreed to camp out there for the night to recharge before the next inevitable fight you'd encounter. It was your turn to gather firewood, a fact that made Astarion nervous as none of you had fully scoped out the surrounding forests. Everyone else had tasks or their own selfish reason for not volunteering to go with you, so it was left to him. He wanted to feel burdened or annoyed but there was excitement at being alone with you again flowing through him where blood would be.
It'd only been a day since your disastrous conversation and yet he felt the hole your absence left as if it'd been centuries. He was pathetic.
He came up behind you loudly so as not to sneak up on you just as you were about to head out.
"I suppose it goes without saying that you need a companion to explore the woods," He began trying to seem put out but the moment your gaze fixed on him his voice dropped and he finished quietly, "please let me accompany you."
Your brow furrowed again and it drove Astarion crazy. He wanted to comfort you when that look crossed your face, not be the cause of it.
"I appreciate the offer, but please don't feel like you have to," your voice was strained as you tried to give him an out.
"I want to."
You sighed obviously not believing him but not having an argument in you, "Ok."
With that, you turned and headed out without glancing back him. He kept close, closer than necessary but not as close as he wanted to be. It only took him a couple minutes of silence to break. As soon as you were out of ear shot of the group, he grabbed your elbow to get your attention.
You stopped abruptly and spun directly into his chest. His arms came up to catch you as you stumbled, and for a moment you relaxed into his embrace. But then your mind caught up and you pulled away.
"Sorry," You blushed and went to turn back to your task.
"Tav we need to talk," His voice was shakier than he wanted, but he couldn't hold himself back. He was going to be selfish despite his best efforts.
Your gaze snapped to him, panic coloring your features.
"Please don't leave the group, I'm sorry if I've made you uncomfortable," You spat out quickly, desperately.
Astarion hated hearing you beg for him in this way, as if you did anything wrong and didn't deserve his companionship. It was something he could never wrap his head around.
"Tav, no I wanted to talk about our conversation yesterday. I didn't leave it exactly where I wanted. There was more I had to say but I couldn't get it out after hurting you the way I did."
There was that damn crinkle in between your brows again. He was resigning to spend the rest of his life ensuring you never worried again. Granted you would want him around for the rest of his life.
"I also didn't say everything I wanted to," you began with a voice soaked in guilt, "I know I already apologized but I cannot express enough through words or actions how sorry I am I made you force yourself to sleep with me. I'm not an idiot and I knew you wouldn't have looked twice at me unless there was something in it for you. I'm sorry I let my personal feelings cloud my better judgement. It was obvious you were playing me and seducing me not out of want or desire, but I just wanted to believe you returned my feelings."
You took a deep breath after your word vomit, then opened your mouth to continue but he cut you off with a yell.
"I took advantage of your affections, and you beg me for forgiveness? I have to contradict you my love because you are in fact an idiot. You did nothing wrong," he was exasperated with your self-flagellation, "I'm not made of glass! I wanted to fuck you and I enjoyed it too! Which is the entire problem! As I said, I had a nice simple plan but you had to go and fuck it up by not only being a good lay but also the first person I've ever truly cared about! And how could you assume I would never want you! It's absurd! Especially when you are all I have wanted since our first meeting in that damned bush! You don't get to put words in my mouth and assign feelings to me that aren't mine. I didn't manipulate or sleep with you because you eyed me up everyday, I did it because I wanted your protection and I saw an easy way to get it."
He huffed, tired from his emotional outburst but added one last thing, "I'm the villain here. Not you. It was never you."
You were stunned, every word he said floating around in your brain but latching onto one vital thing, "Wait you enjoyed the sex we had?"
Astarion huffed again and threw his arms up, ever the dramatic one, "Of course I enjoyed the sex we had! You're a vision, and you're so much more than that. It was the first time I'd ever truly felt connected with someone."
"I, I just felt so awful thinking that it hadn't been what you wanted but what you'd forced yourself to do," tears were falling at the realization that you hadn't hurt him in that way.
Astarion realized what had really been eating away at you, he hadn't wanted you to ever feel guilty on his behalf. The fact that you did warmed him in an unnamable way.
"Our time together meant everything to me and I just couldn't bear that it had been at the expense of your suffering," you sighed.
Astarion scoffed, "Being with you never caused me suffering. Except, well, the guilt that ate away at me for manipulating your feelings."
You tried to interrupt him but he held up his finger.
"Ah ah ah, love. You don't get to say that I wasn't. I was. I saw your attraction to me and it made you an easy target. I chose to seduce you and manipulate you for my own game. My plan was simple. It was easy, instinctual. 200 years of habit kicked in. So imagine how stupid I felt when I genuinely started to feel something for you."
That seemed to knock some sense into you. Relief overwhelmed you at the knowledge that he returned your feelings.
Seeing the relief and pure love in your eyes for him made Astarion's brain go haywire. He immediately cupped your face in his hands and pulled your mouth to his in a way that was more aggressive than he ever wanted to be with you. He devoured your mouth. He always tried to be delicate with you even when he was still telling himself you were just a means to an end, but in this moment he couldn't hold back his own passion for you. The feeling terrified him but the feel of your body kept him grounded.
Finally you pulled away for air and he cursed your human dependencies. But it gave him a moment to remember what else he had wanted to say.
"You deserve something real, I want us to be real. I just, don't know what that looks like. I've never been with someone who I wasn't going to bring back to my master for their gruesome death and I know things are different with us. I will never let him touch you, but it still all feels tainted," He breathed the words onto you face, not being able to bear another moment without your touch. One day was long enough.
You rubbed soothing circles onto his lower back where your arms had wrapped around him during your embrace.
There was nothing but devotion and pure love in your eyes as you gazed up at him, understanding the part he couldn't voice out loud and never pushing him beyond his limits.
"That's ok, we can take this as slow as you need if you even want to change it all. I meant it when I said that you are so much more to me than sex. I'm content to just be in your company," you breathed back at him still recovering from the kissing.
He loved leaving you breathless.
He then groaned dramatically and buried his face in the crook of your neck as he mumbled, "But I do so want to make Gale listen to me ravish you all night."
You laughed loud and boisterous, Astarion's favorite laugh of yours that was only his to hear unencumbered by your normal reservations to be quieter around others. He kissed under your jaw but wretched himself away.
"I want to work up to us being intimate together again. I want you so desperately it quite literally hurts, but I am just not there yet. Please don't give up on me," His voice faltered at the end as he met your eyes and saw tears once again filling them.
This time though you let him see them and he let you see him in all his damaged glory.
You just kissed him hoping to convey into it all that you felt. You were never giving up on him again.
Author's Note: Alright ladies let's fucking go, new hyper fixation on a white haired man unlocked! I may write more for Astarion (or Gale hehe) if people want. I haven't played the game myself bc my pc sucks and is only built for rune factory and stardew valley so I'm sorry if this isn't fully game accurate I've only seen playthroughs. As for DND lore wise, I am going to be taking liberties bc it's MY maladaptive daydream and I'll do what I want!
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Is setting him free a one shot?? cuz I need more bestie😭
Meant To Be || LN4
Follow up to: Setting Him Free || Meant To Be || Yours, Always
Summary: If you love someone, set them free; if they come back to you, it was meant to be.
Lando tracked your life through the lens of your camera and what you uploaded to Instagram. He remembered seeing the toll the journey took, sporadic pictures taken between stopovers where you smiled but it never quite reached your eyes. It took you nearly 40 hours to reach your destination and he waited with bated breath for you to finally post that you had safely arrived.
Lando remembered the first time he saw you tagged in a photo with a stranger, his arm curled around your waist while you laughed happily with no regard to his heart that you still owned completely. It had only been six weeks since you left, yet you were happy in another man’s arms while he still hugged your pillow.
Lando had fallen into a rabbit hole of despair that night until Max came home and turned into a detective and searched for the stranger, finding every social media profile he had.
With a triumphant shout, Max ran into Lando’s room with his laptop and pulled the blankets off his friend’s head. “He’s gay!”
Hope fluttered in his chest as he sat up and snatched the laptop. His eyes scanned the photos and the captions of a man most definitely in love with another man and not you. “He’s gay? Fucking yes, mate! Thank you,” he gushed as he clutched his chest where his heart had started beating erratically at the news.
“Now you can get out of bed and stop moping,” Max stated as he tore the rest of the blankets away and opened the curtains. Lando curled onto his side away from the blinding light with a groan but Max was there, grabbing his ankle and dragging him off the bed. “Come on, you lump of sod, we’re going karting. But, honestly, you need a shower, bro, you stink.”
For a few months Lando found a new contentment with life. He trained, he raced, he hung out with his friends. But every time there was a lull of activity he found himself gravitating back to you.
“Max, give me her number,” Lando ordered as he busted into the guest room his friend had moved into when you moved out. He had wanted to keep an eye on Lando and Lando, though initially annoyed at being babied, had come to enjoy having the company.
Max groaned as he saw the time on the clock and wondered why Lando was awake at 3am. “It’s for emergencies. You’re meant to be keeping a distance, mate.”
The weather alerts set up on Lando’s phone had woken him before he darted down the hall to Max’s room.
“This is an emergency,” he rushed, clambering over the bed, kneeing Max in the process, and grabbed his phone off the charger. “There’s a fucking tropical cyclone.”
Max stopped fighting for his phone with a defeated sigh and fell back onto his pillow. “Say hi from me.”
Lando gave an affirmative grunt as he left, the call already starting the dial tone before he reached his room and shut the door.
Your phone had been going off with your family sending worried messages as soon as they heard about the cyclone headed your way. You thought you had finally got them to relax when a call came through, but it was Lando’s contact that appeared.
“Hey, Lan,” you greeted softly after committing to answer the call. “Are you okay?”
“That’s what I was going to ask,” he replied with a gravelly voice, reminding you it was early in the morning where he was. And he was not a morning person at the best of times. “I saw the news.”
“You’re a mother hen, you know.”
He chuckled as it wasn’t the first time you called him that when he worried about you. “I know, only because I have someone to remind me.”
“You really don’t need to worry,” you assured him, though the afternoon skies were much darker than normal as the storm quickly approached. “The locals are used to this and if they’re not concerned then I think it’ll be fine. You know how the news is, they dramatise everything.”
“You’re sure? Do you have supplies just in case power goes out? I can order whatever you need-”
“Lando, stop,” you chided him gently. “You don’t have to buy anything.”
You could imagine him pacing in his room, dodging the mess of clothes on the floor and a half unpacked suitcase from his last trip. You were always the organised one, the one who kept the house tidy while he was busy with work.
“I want to. I want to know you have everything you need, that you are being taken care of. You did that for me for so long, I want to return the favour.”
You rubbed your temples as you tried not to fall back into the place you had been six months ago. But it was hard not to miss him with every fibre of your being when he was the sweetest man you had ever known. “Even if I wanted you to, it’s impossible. They don’t exactly have online shopping on the island.” You giggled at the sound of disbelief that came through the phone. “Our supplies come by boat from the mainland.”
“And that’s your idea of fun?”
“I like the work we do here,” you said with a smile. “Need I remind you that some people like to go vroom vroom around in circles.”
“Har-har.” You could practically hear his eyes rolling around in his head before you heard the shuffle of his sheets as he climbed into bed. “We’re halfway there.”
“You’re not meant to be counting the days,” you reminded him, as though you didn’t have the days marked off on the calendar in your office.
“I tried not to.”
The wind started to pick up, brushing the hibiscus plant against your window with an incessant scraping noise. Then came the pitter-patter of the first drops of rain on the tin roof.
“Me too.” On the other side of the island lightning forked from the gathering clouds and a few seconds later the boom rattled the house. “I should probably go, you should be asleep.”
“Wait,” Lando shouted in your ear. “Just wait, please.”
You knew the delay was only going to make goodbye harder and your throat was already clogging with emotion. “I need to save my battery, Lan.”
“I know, I know.” He sighed and the sound lassoed your heart, slowly choking it as the seconds dragged on. “I just, I want you to know that I love you and I know that in another six months that’s still not going to change. Or a year, or however long it takes for you to do what you need to do.”
“Lan…”
“You don’t have to say it, I know it’s hard.”
“Lan-”
“I just wanted you to know.”
“Would you shut up for one second,” you laughed as he rambled on. “I love you too.”
“Please stay safe.”
“I will, but you know it’s cyclone season here. They will be coming every couple of weeks.”
“Then I’ll call you for every single one,” he promised. “Gotta make sure my girl is okay.”
You laughed at his tenacity but quietly revelled in his words. “Good night, Lando, I’m glad you called.”
“I wish I called sooner.”
Click here for the final part.
#lando norris fanfic#lando norris imagine#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#formula one imagine#formula one fanfiction#f1 rpf
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Migraines - M. Sturniolo
Summary : Matt struggles with chronic migraines, and some days there isn't much that you can do, but that never means you don't try,
Warnings : mentions of vomiting and nausea, a small bit of crying
Word Count : 1313
Pairing : Matt Sturniolo/Reader (romantic)
A/N : i got inspo from this photo of matt <3
Living an entire two decades of life with chronic migraines was an absolutely miserable thing.
Matt was nearing his twenty-first birthday, and he was desperate to find something in his life that would help with these migraines. He had gone through prescription after prescription, doctor appointment after doctor appointment, specialist after specialist, and nothing had helped the splitting pain. He had a migraine tracker on his phone so that he could tell the percentage of how often he had migraines, and it was well over sixty percent of every month. It was quite depressing to look at, and even more depressing to live. It really affected Matt’s happiness and day to day life.
All of their YouTube videos were filmed on Matt’s good days. They would change outfits so that they could film five to six videos in one day, gathering a lot of topics so that they would have tons to post when it came time to put them all up. Both of his brothers were incredibly caring and didn’t mind the way that they had to do things, and both wanted to do everything possible to make it easier for their middle sibling. They rode with Matt in an Uber every time his migraine was too bad for him to drive, so that he wouldn’t have to be alone, especially at a doctor’s office, a place he was already generally hesitant to be at. They truly were always by his side, arguing with doctors that told him it was anxiety based, or that he was exaggerating, when he didn’t have the energy to argue for himself.
Today was a bad day for him. Chris and Nick had left before Matt had woken up, so they had no idea that he was struggling, because the light from his phone, even at the lowest setting, wasn’t low enough to not send stabbing pains through his head, so he hadn’t texted. He hadn’t had the energy to call and speak to them either. All he had done was gotten up and shut the blinds, covering them up with blackout screens that he had bought a couple years back, because he needed all of the light out. They worked incredibly well, and he had cut off the dim lighting in his room that he’d slept with, needing complete darkness.
He had no idea how long he had laid there, he just knew he was in pain. Unbeknownst to him, when you noticed that he didn’t reply to your text, you were immediately concerned, and already on your way over. You’d seen that he’d read it, so you knew he was awake, and he hadn’t replied. He never left you on read, unless he couldn’t bear to look at his phone screen any longer, which meant he had a terrible migraine. You’d wasted no time getting ready, and due to the fact that Matt didn’t wake up until almost two in the afternoon, you didn’t get over there until almost four. You had your own key, both because of instances like these, and because of the fact that you had been together for almost two years now. Letting yourself in, you texted Chris and Nick, telling them that you were there as well.
You wasted no time in going upstairs, gently opening Matt’s door, and immediately closing it behind you, because while the light in the hallway wasn’t on, the daylight would filter in, and you knew it would aggravate his head. Seeing him face down on the bed, under covers and pillows, you gently whispered your greeting, telling him so he wouldn’t freak out, though you doubted he had the energy to freak out on you. You pressed a kiss to the back of his neck, rubbing his back and laying down next to him. He curled into your chest, and you could see the remnants of tear tracks on his face. You laid a kiss to his forehead, gently running your hand over it and through his hair. Your hands were a cooler temperature, and you could tell that it felt good and soothed his pain for a few seconds. You laid a palm on his forehead, wanting to help him feel better any way that you could.
You laid with him for about an hour, helping hold the trash can at the side of his bed when the pain got to be so bad that it caused him to throw up, helping wipe his face off and get him laid back down, before realizing he hadn’t eaten anything all day, so it probably wouldn’t get much better. You laid there for a little while longer, thinking about what to do to help him, when you remembered a trick that had helped you when you had a terrible migraine one day. You softly untangled yourself from him, whispering that he could stay right there and you would be right back.
You went into the bathroom, turning a small, very dim, light on in the corner so you could see what was going on around you. You began running a warm bath, letting it run while you went to get Matt a small snack. You set it down on the edge of the bathtub, on the side touching the wall, and went to go get your boyfriend. You picked out some clean clothes for him, grabbed him the water bottle from his nightstand as well, and led him to the bathroom. He knew where it was, of course, but the thought of opening his eyes for the chance of any light just made the pain intensify, so he trusted you to guide him.
By this point, the tub was about three quarters of the way full, and you helped him get in. You knew he hadn’t showered that day, and the warm water on your legs and feet helped with your migraines, so you hoped it would help him as well. Judging by the way his face began to relax once he was in the tub, his back against your chest, you were glad it took away a little bit of his pain. You kept the temperature of the bathroom cooler so that he wouldn’t overheat, but not enough for him to get cold. His eyes stayed closed, but they were a calm closed, not a scrunched, wincing in pain, closed. He didn’t speak much, but he took the water and food that he was offered, and a gentle smile crossed his face the longer he sat in the tub.
The longer you stayed there with him, gently running your hands through his hair, the more his breathing evened out, and the deeper it got, and eventually, you realized he had fallen asleep. He had been so tired from being in pain, even though he had only been up for about four hours, that when the pain had lessened dramatically, his body was so exhausted that he just fell asleep in comfortable arms. You stayed there with him until the water went cold, and even longer after that, because you couldn’t bear to disturb him. After about half an hour, you softly shook him awake, gently helping him stand. By this point, you had both basically air dried, and Matt only pulled on boxers and loose shorts to sleep in. You tugged on one of his shirts and a pair of his boxers as well, going back to bed with him.
As soon as he hit the bed, he was about to fall asleep again, and you pulled him back into your arms. You never minded taking care of him, knowing that he loved you more than words could say, and as he whispered a soft “I love you” into your chest, you knew you could do this for him for the rest of your life, and you could die happy.
“I love you more.”
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