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ugokuna · 13 days ago

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It Was Always You

Pairing: Sukuna Ryomen x Fem!Reader

Summary: It was just one accidental, drunken kiss after a party, something you should've forgotten in a couple of days. You tell yourself it doesn’t matter, that you’ve moved on. That Sukuna had as well. You doubted he remembered anything; especially with every new girl he kissed and every party he was at. Sure, there were occasional glimpses and shared moments together, but those meant nothing. It couldn’t mean anything.

Tags: mutual pining, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, misunderstandings, missing pov, playboy(?)/fratboy/athlete sukuna, college!jjk au, reader’s major is unspecified, inaccurate and glorified depictions of college/college parties (so many parties to move the plot foward) and frats, peer pressure, cliche tropes, lots of time jumps, they were roommates (but not in the way you think), situationship (also not in the way you think), reader is introverted but NOT shy

A/N: English is not my first language. It also has been a minute since I've written anything, so forgive me if this is not the best, think of it like a warm up. I just had to post this one, it has been sitting in my drafts for toooooo long. Inspired by a fanfic I read about Ushijima/Oikawa by jaaesthetixx called Two Years too long on ao3 (definitely check it out!) . Proof read but I'm only human. The picture below is not my own, copyrights to the original artist!!

Word Count: 13.6K (it's a long one)

The auditorium is loud with bustling voices all being ushered by tired returnee students through the double doors. The atmosphere is filled with a mixture of excitement and nervousness, you stand there quiet as the crowd walks around you. You, a little out of place, about to begin the best four years of your life as everyone has been telling you.

As you situate yourself into your seat, you hear a group of boys in front of you rough housing with each other as they make their way a row down from you. One man from the group catches your attention; in stark contrast there sits Sukuna Ryomen, a Chemistry major with a growing reputation with every passing second. With the way he carried himself, smiling and laughing at everyone, he attracted crowds. Even during the campus tour, everyone was flocking his way, each one vying for his attention, drawn by his enigmatic aura.

“Are you going to the party tonight?” A girl places a hand on his biceps.

Sukuna gives her a dashing smile. “Are you?” He leans into her touch.

She laughs. “Yes.”

A wink her way. “Then I am too. Looking forward to it.”

As the group watches her leave, another man puts Sukuna in an arm lock, nudging their knuckles into his head. “Quit it, will you?” It was Fushiguro Toji, a Kinesiology major. He was perhaps just as popular as Sukuna, constantly catching the eyes of women in a more subtle and quieter way.

“What about you?” The man is able to get out of Toji’s grasp, hair sticking all different ways.

“Um… what?” You try to play it off, as if you weren’t listening to the entire conversation while waiting for your friend.

“Ask for the girl’s name first,” Toji berates the man.

Sukuna rolls his eyes. ”I’m just trying to break the ice first.” He turned his full attention back to you.

It didn’t bother you how Sukuna’s attention seemed to be pulled every which way. It’s something you observed quite quickly from earlier interactions. Catching and keeping his attention for longer than a minute seemed to be impossible with him.

“So?”

“Sorry, what?”

He laughs. “Your name?”

You give it to him.

He tilts his head. “So then, Yn, what’s your major?”

Heat starts to rise within your body and you hate how you feel embarrassed. ”I don’t know. I’m undeclared right now.

“Totally understandable. Better than a Chem major right? Actually-” Before he can get the last words in, Toji practically turns him around in his seat to pay attention to the presentation that’s been going on for five minutes now. Not a second later, your dorm mate, Maki, makes her way back to the seat you saved from the bathroom. “Did I miss anything important?”

After the presentation, everyone’s celebrating now that the boring orientation that’s lasted all day has ended. You’re about to make way to your dorm when you feel a tap on your shoulder. “Hey,” you turn. It’s Sukuna. “I forgot to ask but do you wanna go to the party with everyone?”

“It’s gonna be a pool party!” Someone yells out from the crowd.

You hesitantly shake your head, “I don’t know, I can’t swim. Maybe-”

“You don’t even have to swim,” he reassures you. “Promise it’ll be so much fun. You’d meet so many new people.”

You almost want to laugh at that statement. It had come to no surprise that he had said it; everyone was practically crowd pushing him away from you with each passing second. All he can give you is an apologetic look before disappearing into the rush of people.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

When you get to the party, the music is loud, the bass reverberating through your entire body. You look to your side and shrug to Maki, who’s giving you an arched brow, before you both walk in through the door. Hands are grabbing at both of you, trying to pull you every which way. You don’t even know how you got a cup in your hand. Maki is able to shove them all off and starts directing you towards the back yard. Discreetly putting your full cup on a random table, you’re stopped in your tracks as you spot Sukuna in the kitchen, shotgunning with Toji as, you noticed, a new group of people surrounding him cheer him on. All of them chanting his name.

The night air is crisp. It’s refreshing compared to the humid atmosphere in the house. The water in the pool is illuminating so bright in contrast to the low yellow lights of the house. Maki chugs her cup before asking, “Why are we here in the first place?”

All you can give her is a chuckle.

Sukuna spots you from inside the house, talking to one other person. You seemed so deep in the conversation. He sees a bunch of his newly acquainted friends approach you with a bottle and a shot glass. His feet are moving before he can even comprehend what’s happening, excusing everyone he bumps into and makes his way to you as he sees you struggling to get them off your ass.

From behind you, he says "Thanks, I needed that" as he reaches for the shot from his friend's hands, downs it, before making his way back into the house, the group following behind him. Thank you is stuck on the tip of your tongue as you watch him take a ping pong ball into his hand, the upperclassmen cheering him on beer pong. He barely catches your eyes for a second before he turns his attention back to the game.

Maki finally makes her way to your side, asking, “Who was that?”

You can barely utter a response to her as you watch him knuckle his friend’s head when they miss the shot. You had come to the conclusion then that you were worlds apart, especially with his charisma.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

“Sorry about this again,” Toji grunts as you both carry Sukuna up to his dorm, on the verge of passing out on your shoulders. He’s mumbling something incoherent but you both decide to ignore the man. He had caused enough trouble already, challenging the sophomore Mahito to another drinking contest.

“It’s no big deal. It’s the least I can do after he helped me out of a situation,” you tell Toji.

“Huh,” he huffs out. “How ‘bout that.”

After taking a few stops and tumbles up the stairs, you make it to their shared dorm, one you’ve realized was only two floors above you. Toji gives you the access key as he rushes off to get the fallen objects scattered across the stairs and lobby.

You lean closer into him, quietly asking, “Can you walk?” Silence, then a hum. “Can you walk?”

You both make way to his bed before he can even give you a coherent response and start lowering him down. “Careful. You got it?” You’re the one struggling to lay him down slowly and not slam him head first into the bed.

“Oh, shit.” Tripping over each other’s feet, Sukuna slams onto the bed anyways, his arm around your shoulder dragging you down with him.

“Wait! Wait-” His lips are on yours before you know it. It’s soft, warm –probably from the alcohol– and as light as a feather. It’s almost shy, all that boldness from the morning and at the party gone. You pull away abruptly, breathing heavily, fingers deftly touching your lips. A ghost of cigarette scent lingers behind in its wake.

You’re not sure if you heard a sorry from him as you’re rushing out of the room, bumping into a flabbergasted Toji in the hallway, spitting out the quickest excuse possible. You, who runs away, ears tinted red because he stole your first kiss.

Sukuna, who is passed out drunk when Toji makes his way back, utterly confused, asking where you were going and him saying how he'd probably fucked up.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It came to no surprise that you both gravitated towards different groups on campus, enveloped into two different hemispheres. You often saw him rushing to class with Toji following shortly behind, scolding him. Some days you see him with a different group on each different day of the week; always engrossed in whatever they were talking about. You could never seem to get away from him, he was the talk of the campus between all your classmates.

He often saw you with Maki. Always just the two of you, always routine, always disciplined. Something he clearly lacked, as Toji stated to him one night when they were procrastinating on studying for a test the next day. You seemed too far from him to ever close the gap; you were involved with different organizations and people completely opposite of him.

Only ever a glimpse whenever the other person wasn’t looking. Never crossing paths, staying out of each other’s bubbles.

You see him join a fraternity a quarter into freshman year with Toji; easily sporting that black and red fraternity jacket with pride at a party. You had come to the first rugby game of the season to support Maki’s new boyfriend Yuta, who was on the team, where you happened to see Sukuna on the rugby field as well; sporting new pink hair.

Again, drawing a big crowd as they lift him up in the air after scoring the winning point for the first game of the season. Him, displaying that toothy grin as his face. It lifestyle seemed to suit him well.

As everyone scrambles to get to their cars to go to the after-party to celebrate, you quickly make your way to the stadium bathroom. You’re nearly skipping from how full your bladder is and when you turn the corner-

There’s no mistaking that freshly dyed pink hair, immediately recognizing it as Sukuna Ryomen. Here he was, kissing a girl with his jacket on in the back of the stadium stairs. You freeze. You don’t know why, this was normal. You feel guilty for catching him in such an intimate moment; guilting for something else–perhaps for getting hopeful.

He didn’t owe you anything, you had to wrap that around your head. Given how much you’ve learned about him in such a short amount of time, this was a given. This was who he was, there was no denying that by anyone.

Running back to Maki and Yuta, who’s shooting you confused looks, all you can do is push them into the car and tell them to hurry home to go pee. When they question you, all you can muster is that the bathrooms were locked. You wonder if he even remembered that night. You want that memory out of your head.

They drop you off after much persuasion that you’d meet up with them later at the party for the celebration.

When Yuta enters the frat house with Maki, Sukuna watches from a distance as the duo walks in before making his way to the couple with a practiced smile while he scans behind them. “Where’s Yn?”

“She’s coming later,” Yuta tells him, grabbing the offered drink from Sukuna and leaves with Maki.

The entire night he has his eyes glued to the door.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Landing yourself a job at the school library meant, though it was not often, seeing Sukuna there. Sometimes you see him studying, sometimes you see him tutoring someone, sometimes you see him playing Tetris on his computer as he tunes out an online class that seems very important.

There seems to be a backlog of books needing reshelving so you’ve been tasked with shelving books for the remainder of the shift. It really is mundane work but you believe it’s better than Maki’s physical job of carrying heavy loads. You hear a whisper then a squeal as you turn to the next aisle.

“We have to be quiet.” You knew that voice. You peek through the bookshelf, not knowing why since you know it belongs to Sukuna, his back to you.

“Or else what?” She leans into his touch as she laughs.

“Don’t wanna get caught do we? Gotta respect the rules here.”

And then he’s going in for the kiss, starting at the neck before making his way to the girl’s lips, who reciprocates with equal passion. With an attempt to give them some privacy, you accidentally knock down some books. And when you look back up, your eyes catch hers and she screams.

Before Sukuna can even turn around to see all the commotion, you’re gone. He looks back at the girl. “What is it?”

She scowls. “Some girl was snooping in on us. What a weirdo.”

Sukuna looks back for one last measure, craning his neck to see, catching anything. Nothing. And then he’s getting pulled back in.

You slam the books down and rush to get your things, stuffing your charger and papers into your bags in a hurry. “Sorry,” you spill out. “I wasn’t able to finish shelving these last books. I just realized I have a meeting to catch!”

The coworkers can barely get a response out before you’re out the doors. Why did you always have such bad timing?

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It wasn’t until sophomore year that you started to find your footing here at the college. You honestly have Toge and Panda to thank for that. If you hadn’t met them, you probably wouldn’t have chosen the major you did. Toge Inumaki, though the yapper he was, really made you love all the communications class you took together. You didn’t know what to expect from Panda. Definitely not barely passing a mathematics class together, that’s for sure.

Sukuna’s head turns when he hears your voice. “At least the teacher likes me more,” you tell Panda who taunts you by sticking his tongue out. It seemed like your group was heading out downtown.

“Yea, yea sure.”

He watches you sigh in mock frustration, but not without catching the teasing smile that’s growing on your face. “Don’t come crying to me if I pass the class and you don’t.”

Sukuna can’t help the scoff that comes out of his mouth before he continues on his homework.

“What’s so funny?” Toji asks.

The pink haired man can only shake his head, hand coming up to cover the grin. “Nothing, nothing.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The crowd erupts into a complete frenzy as Sukuna scores, yet again, the winning goal. As you and the group make your way down the stands to celebrate with Yuta, embracing him in an all encompassing hug, you aren’t sure if you had caught Sukuna’s eyes. Everything was happening too fast as the crowd swallowed him up.

“Thanks man, ‘ppreciate it,” he says for the nth time tonight after another person congratulates him. He touches his cup to the man before taking a sip when he hears your laugh. He turns towards the crowd, scanning. He hadn’t seen you come in and he missed the change to talk to you at the end of his game.

He can’t seem to get a good view of you until he hears your laughter die down abruptly, followed by hesitant no’s. His body is moving even before he can understand anything, barely tuning in to everyone who’s slapping him on the back for a job well done today.

And then he finally sees you. Cornered by one of his frat mates, Mahito, shoving a shot glass into your hand, clinking it with his before tilting it towards your mouth.

One, two strides and he intercepts. Grabbing the shot just as it barely touches your lips and downs it in one fluid motion. He sets it down harshly, making you jump. There’s a silence between the two men as you watch from behind Sukuna’s shoulders before Mahito slowly raises his hand in defeat, and leaves without much protest.

“Um, thank you,” you’re finally able to muster out, raising a finger to tap his shoulder.

He turns around before you can ever make contact. “You should really-”

“I was looking for water,” you interrupted him. “Some water…” you repeat again.

He sighs, reaching behind you and opens the fridge, tossing you two cold water bottles and leaves it at that to chase down Mahito.

When the party starts to wind down, Sukuna takes the chance to move to the balcony on the second floor to smoke. He digs out a crumpled cigarette, it would have to do. As he lights the butt up, he looks up to the sound of footsteps. Taking a whiff, holding it in before blowing it out, he gives you a nod of acknowledgement. He tries to keep a neutral face but can’t help but have his brow twitch at you approaching him, almost tentatively. He leans back against the rail.

“What’re you doing up here?”

“Sorry, is this off limits?” And yet here you were, still walking towards him. You settle on one side of the balcony.

He shrugs and goes for another before blowing it out carelessly towards you. Sukuna doesn’t miss the way your lips purse at his actions.

“Yuta said I could come up here.”

“Yuta?” He says in disbelief. “That scrawny emo kid?”

You shoot him a look. “Hey!”

Sukuna huffs at the sweet noise you made, turning his head and blowing out the smoke. “Just the truth, he’s a newb.”

He doesn’t miss the way you roll your eyes. “So are you. Didn’t you and Toji both start at the same time?”

Sukuna lets his cigarette drop to the floor as he leans in closer to you. “You see me on the field today?

“I did.” It’s almost bashful.

He dares to lean a bit closer. “And what did you think? Did I look like a newbie out there?”

Everything is forgotten when Sukuna sees you reciprocating his actions. “I think-”

“Sukuna!” Toji calls out for him as he makes his way to the balcony, clearly out of breath. “Oh! I didn’t realize you were busy. Hey Yn.”

You give him a small smile and wave.

Toji’s already tugging Sukuna along by the sleeve of his jacket. “Come on, I made a bet saying you could finish the funnel faster than Mahito. Betted Gojo winning against Geto and he fucking lost. Can’t let me down now.” And he’s dragged away before he can even say anything, taking one last look at you before heading downstairs to the backyard.

And when he’s done, belly full of beer and deal won, he rushes back up to the balcony knowing very well you wouldn’t be there but being disappointed anyways.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Wrapping up sophomore year is hectic and stressful. Sukuna is ever busy trying to gear himself to being vice president of his fraternity for the upcoming school year. Drawing in tabling, hosting events, and running booths that you often run by when going to class. He always looked so into it, voice booming above all others. Convincing old friends and new to vote for him, convincing fresh boys to rush his fraternity over others.

When he’s warming up for rugby practice, he sees you and Toji walking side by side. Watch as the both of you both laugh at something before parting ways. He sees you biting your lip in the cafe as you angrily tap away at your laptop, the wrinkles on your forehead more prominent than ever.

Thanking his tutor for the day, Sukuna starts to pack up his things as he’s running late to his fraternity meeting. He’s about to text one of the members before he catches a glimpse of you from the corner of his eye.

“Here you go.”

You shriek a bit before covering your mouth. After looking around, hoping you didn’t disrupt anyone, you looked up at the man standing behind you. “You scared me!” you whisper-yell at him while grabbing the book from his grasp you had trouble reaching.

“You’re welcome,” his voice hinting at something, brow raised. “Don’t they have those long ladders?”

Turning to finally face him, you hug the book to your chest. “Yes, they do, but I thought I didn’t need it.”

He only hums before leaning in closer. “Oh, yea?” He picks off invisible lint off your shoulder before bracing his arm next to it. “What’re doing in the library?”

“I work here,” you state matter of factly.

“That so…” his voice wanders off. Interesting.

“Yes,” you reply, ducking under his arm. He was too close, his proximity taking you back to that night freshman year. You didn’t need that memory resurfacing after all this time. Both of you were about to be juniors in college, it was embarrassing how you just couldn’t let it go. “I’d like to stay and chat, but I have a lot of things to do right now.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Junior year is beginning to look good. You’ve just applied for an internship and have signed a lease for an apartment. The school year starts off with great news of Sukuna as well: becoming the vice president of his fraternity and captain of the rugby team. You can't help but smile when you read it in the school’s newspaper. You’re happy for him.

It's no surprise that with the new achievement and the start of the semester, it’s a big party; the fraternity house is filled to the max. As you weaved through the crowd, hand in hand with Shoko, you couldn't help but have your eyes wander to a certain silhouette. It didn't matter anyways, you both weren't going to stay long anyway. You both have prior commitments the day after.

But nothing ever goes to plan as you find yourself staying past the time you guys agreed on. And it's not until you find her slumped against Gojo that you rush over to her. You try to drag her out of the house, men start approaching you, grabbing and pulling everywhere.

You can only offer her a smile when she mumbles something about Gojo and tell her you're taking her to the bathroom first before leaving. The line is long and everyone's giving you the stink eye and it makes you want to crawl into your own skin while Shoko is hanging onto your shoulder telling everyone to fuck off.

Toji comes to the rescue and tells you to go upstairs to the master room, no one should be in it. As you burst through the door, you stop.

Both are topless, hands skimming and touching everywhere. Sukuna’s on top in a heated make out session with a girl who screams and pushes the pink haired man away.

You quickly shield your eyes and apologize. "I- I’m sorry… I didn't mean to interrupt! Toji, he said no one would be up here and-" The girl shoves past you as she sends you a dirty remark, making you drop Shoko. You sigh out in frustration.

"It's okay," he reassures you quickly.

Your eyes notice the bruising marks on his chest and neck and you realize you're staring. You divert your gaze back to the ground as you decide to focus your attention back to putting Shoko on your shoulder.

You can't really see him that well in the dark lighting. What his face reads. What his eyes say. "Here, let me help." He approaches and you tense up in panic

"No! No," you say more calmly. You feel like crying for some reason. And you hate it. Stupid, you tell yourself. There was nothing to cry about, you've seen it before. Many times. It certainly wasn't going to be the last. "We’ll go somewhere else. Again, I-" you inhale. “I didn’t mean to interrupt, seriously.”

Sukuna calls out your name. “I know-” And then Shoko throws up on the floor. On Sukuna's feet.

And that's the last you see of him as you apologize profusely, tears brimming from ruining his carpet before you rush out to call a taxi.

Sukuna Ryomen, you really are a heartbreaker.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

As Sukuna walks up to the desk, sliding the two books he checked out a week ago, he asks where you are. He hadn’t seen you working in the library for the past few weeks.

The staff scans his book. "Oh, you mean Yn? Her internship schedule didn’t work out with this job, so she quit. Heard she’s doing just fine though!”

Sukuna can only nod as he walks out the door to go to his next class, he can't help the growing smile on his face. It brings him back to the first day he saw you at orientation; how timid and frightened you looked before walking inside the big doors before him. How you nearly shook when asked by him what your major was, voice full of uncertainty when you told him undeclared. Truly, it amazed Sukuna to see how much you've grown now compared to him.

It looked like he had some catching up to do.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

"When are you leaving for your study group?" Uruame, your new roommate, yells from her room. You got along with her quite well for having just met her a few months ago.

"Maybe in about ten minutes or less? Why?" You close your laptop, having just finished a task for your internship.

"Oh, good. I have a friend coming over soon, that's why. He should be gone by the time you come back." She can be heard rumbling around through the room before adding, "He should be here any minute. When he does, can you open the door for him?"

You yell back a yea and within five minutes there's a knock on the door. "Hi-” All you can really do is stare.

Sukuna is speechless as well as he watches you move to the side to let him in. He passes through the threshold, unsure of what to say.

"Sorry about that," you tell him, closing the door behind him and clearing your throat. "It's nice to see you again."

He only nods. "I didn't know you were Uruame's roommate. If I knew-"

"It's okay!" you chirp up, guiding the pink hair to the living room. “Do you want some-”

"Sorry for the wait!" Uruame finally comes out, pecking Sukuna on the cheek.

You quickly look away.

He watches you. And you miss the way he's searching for you, the way he’s trying to tell you something.

"I should get going!" You chime, trying to change the mood. You round the living room and grab your things.

He notices the way your back is facing him the entire time. "Where are you going?"

You offer him a small smile but he notices how you won't look him in the eye. "The library."

Once the study group session is over, you overhear two girls talking about the books in the library. "Actually I noticed the same thing too. A lot of the books are checked out by his name.”

"What was it again?"

"I don't remember but I think it’s kinda romantic.”

Later that night, as you’re eating dinner with Uruame, you learn that she and Sukuna were in a situationship. They had been hooking up for a couple of weeks now and wanted to test the waters a bit before confirming anything. You muster up a smile and wish them the best. Truly.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

For the next couple of days, something inside your core shook. Nothing you ate sat right in your stomach; it was nonsense really. You both really never had any deeper relationship than a few conversations sprinkled in the past three years.

Unintentionally, you had buried yourself in work, having a backlog of tasks and assignments to juggle alongside your job. Sukuna came by a couple of times a week at the apartment and sometimes it was Uruame who would be gone for a few days at his frat house. A few acknowledged nods whenever you were in the living area before he disappeared into Uruame’s room, that was all. You made sure to keep it minimal.

Whenever you heard the door close to Uruame’s room with a few laughs and a belt hitting the floor, you always made sure to leave the unit as quickly as possible. You always timed when your shift ended and when he would leave the house; it was for the best.

Sometimes you weren’t so lucky. Hearing the roar of the engine outside your apartment was something you’ve come accustomed to at this point. Sometimes Sukuna drops Uruame off when you leave for your work shift, who's leaning against his motorcycle, a cigarette lazily resting between his lips. As you acknowledge him, he slips the cigarette butt out of his mouth and onto the floor to stomp it out, before giving you a curt nod back. His eyes follow you as he watches you get into the car.

Or when you accidentally come out of the shower with just a towel around you just as Sukuna walks in. Who immediately apologizes and covers his eyes and turns around for invading your privacy.

But you like to think you’ve done a good job of giving Uruame and Sukuna the privacy they need. It’s the least you can do.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

When Sukuna gets a late night text from Uruame to come over, he sneaks in quietly, unlocking the door from the key that you told him about under the doormat, to which he had practically scolded you for how easy and cliche it was for anyone to discover. He’d have to find a better spot next time.

Quietly removing his shoes, Sukuna makes his way through the house. Then he sees you knocked out on the couch, laptop on the verge of falling off your lap. He huffs out a low chuckle as the man rounds the couch to close the laptop, putting it away, and grabbing the throw blanket to keep you warm. Once satisfied, he looks at you before kneeling down and moving some hair out of your face.

“Don’t work too hard, hmm?” he tells you. He’s there and gone before the sun even rises.

Sukuna could never seem to catch your eye wherever he’s over at your place, he notices. You’re either in your room, or running an errand right when he arrives, or over at Yuta’s place studying. But that’s okay, because sometimes if he concentrates enough, it’s moments like these that he likes.

Sukuna can smell whatever you're baking as you hum in the kitchen from Uruame’s room. He wonders what it’d taste like. What you look like. Were you hopping around dancing in the kitchen with a spatula in your hand? Were you covered in flour when he heard you scream as you burned and messed up the measurements for the brownies you were making for your co-workers?

And when he leaves your apartment for the week, passing by the island in the kitchen, he sees a note that reads “feel free to take some” with a smile-y face scribbled on it.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The apartment has become more lively lately as the first round of midterms for the semester are coming around. You, Maki, Toge, Yuta, and Panda are supposed to be studying for the upcoming test for your class but somehow the monopoly game ended up on the table and you’re in jail for the eighth time.

"No deal," Toge tells you.

"What!?" You complain. "I'm literally giving you the last Railroad to make a complete set."

"Yea, and why would I exchange The Boardwalk and give you a complete set. It’s totally unfair."

The other bystanders grumble out agreements and you hate how they're on Toge’s side when they were the ones who encouraged you to make the deal in the first place.

Sukuna is leaning against the door that separates you and him, trying to get even the smallest detail of what's going on on the other side. Uruame was asleep and he was supposed to have left thirty minutes ago, but when he heard your voice along with your friends, he froze.

And now he's listening to you angrily yell and try to miserably seal a deal that he, unfortunately, also doesn't agree on. It's the worst thing Sukuna’s ever heard and he's trying his best to stifle the rumbling in his throat. Oh God, you were so bad at this.

"You know," Toge deadpans, “Why don’t you just admit that you’re just threatened by me."

"Oh please," you bite back. "When have I ever felt threatened by you?"

"What are you talking about?" he flabbergasts. "If I gave you The Boardwalk you'd max out the hotel immediately and you'd win the game."

"Which is only two spots!” Your fingers emphasize the number two. “You have four!"

"Which I always land on!" He leans forward on the table, not backing down. “Do you know how unlucky I have to be to always land on them?”

"What if she gave you fifteen percent of the revenue as part of the deal?"

Everyone jumps at the voice, startled. He’s done this many times, and yet he always catches you off guard. You stand up right to turn to look at him.

"Oh, I thought you already left."

Maki watches you, flicks her eyes towards the pink haired man before silently reorganizing her cards.

"Overslept," Sukuna tells you nonchalantly. He nods towards Toge. "What do you think of that deal?"

Toge can barely muster out a nod as Sukuna explains to him the terms and conditions. All you can do is look at him. Perhaps what Toji said to you in secrecy was true. It did look like he was going through a rough time at home. Toji didn’t delve too much into it, wanting to respect Sukuna’s privacy. All you knew was the one sentence that stuck with you, “He may not look like it, but family means a lot to him.”

He did seem a bit softer around the edges now. The tattoos that were littered over his body didn’t seem all that intimidating anymore. His eyes, though not evident unless you look closely like you are now, have eye bags under them. His eyes flicker to you as he says, “That sounds good to you?”

You blink at him. Once. Twice. “Um… what? Sorry.”

Maki couldn’t help but smirk down at her lap.

Sukuna leans one arm on the back of the sofa, the other pointing at the board game. He’s so close that you feel the heat radiating off of him. The proximity makes you stiffen. “Toge’s gonna trade The Boardwalk with your Railroad as long as you give him twenty percent of the money anytime someone lands on it. I raised the profit for him to accept, that okay? You’ll still be able to keep a majority of the money anyways, especially with the other cards you have.”

You highly doubt Toge accepted it because of the terms and not because he was Sukuna himself. You only nod.

He nods back and pushes himself off the couch, groaning as he stretches his arms up before making his way to the door but not before saying goodbye to everyone. You walk him to the front door to see him out as he tells you “hope you win” before closing the door behind him.

You do win that night. By a landslide.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

“Would it be weird?” You’re laying on Maki’s bed, head hanging off the end as you wait for her to freshen up for your hang out today. “To…you know…”

Maki laughs from the other end of the room, throwing the jacket she’s finally settled on towards you. You catch it without hesitation. “Invite your roommate’s situationship?”

“They’re just taking their time,” you try to defend them once again.

“After three months?” You move over a bit as Maki settles in beside you. “Look, I think inviting him would complicate whatever you already feel about him. You already know what I’m going to tell you: do whatever you wanna do; but just think about what I’ve told you.”

Maki gives you a look when Sukuna invites himself in without even knocking, putting the spare key in his pocket and greeting everyone. You shoot her a look back.

Uruame greets the pink haired man before you can even reach the entrance. “You made it!” And gives him a quick peck on the cheek.

Toge reaches for the snack bowl. Panda suddenly chokes on his popcorn and Maki takes a big gulp from her drink.

Sukuna’s line of sight goes straight to you, offering a sheepish smile. “Hope you don’t mind, Uruame invited me.” He holds up a small gift bag, almost like a peace offering.

You finally move from the couch to grab it. “Not at all.”

Everyone has settled in, given with the help of a few mixed drinks Maki and Panda made. Uruame and Toge were in a much heated argument that has gone off course that started with toilet paper and has now changed into cereal and milk.

Taking the chance while everyone’s preoccupied, you head towards the kitchen to get the cake ready. You take a sip from your cup as you’re struggling to find both the candles and lighter. A hand comes up behind your back as you feel someone brush up against you to open the cabinet above you.

“Here you go.” Sukuna sets down the box of almost empty candles on the counter.

“Thanks,” you tell him, almost amazed that he knew where it was.

He shrugs. “Saw it here when I was cooking for Uruame.” Then gestures toward the plastic cup. “Didn’t think you were a drinker.”

You open the box and start putting the candles around the cake. “Never said I wasn’t. Just always seemed to find myself in situations where I didn’t want to.”

He huffs at that, tilting his cup.

You laugh, picking up your own to tap it against his before taking a drink together.

Sukuna watches you take a sip before finally trying his own. He could get used to this side of you.

You get back to putting the candles around the cake, putting six mix-matched colors around the border. When he sees you frantically searching for a light, Sukuna reaches into the front pockets of his jeans, flicks his cigarette lighter open and lights all the candles with ease, before putting it back.

And when the lights are turned low and everyone sings happy birthday, Sukuna wonders what you wished for as you blow out the candle. He wonders if you liked the gift he got you. Wonders if he’ll have other birthday celebrations with you.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The rest of the year goes on like that. Balancing school with the internship while hosting study sessions either at your apartment, the school library or at your friend’s place. You go with the entire group to help cheer on Yuta at the rugby games, sometimes cheering on Sukuna and Toji as well.

A call erupts from your phone; unknown number. You answer it, “Hello?”

“Yn?”

His voice makes your heart skip a beat. After all, you guys don’t really talk. Not like this anyways. “What’s wrong?” You sit up in bed, removing the phone to check the time.

2:03 a.m.

The phone returns to your ear. “It’s…fuck,” you hear shuffling before a disgrunted groan. “It’s Uruame. I don’t know what’s up with her today. She can usually hold her own but she's out like, bad.”

You’re already out of bed and grabbing the keys. “I’ll come as quickly as I can. Your house right?”

He huffs a hum. “Thank you and I’m sorry.”

Pulling up to the curb of the house, you barely put the car in park as you rush out of it and meet Sukuna and your roommate on the lawn. “What’s wrong? How is she?”

The pinked haired man looks to his side, where Uruame is hanging lifeless on his shoulder. “Threw up twice so far, probably will throw up again.”

You curse under your breath as you go around to the other side to help relieve some of the weight. He brushes you off. “It’s okay, you can just open up the back of the car.”

Once having arranged the blanket you brought on the backseats, you help Sukuna put your roommate in as easy and comfortable as possible. All you guys can do is stare at her in silence.

He breaks it first. “Make sure you change her out of those clothes and have her sleep on her side with the trash next to her. And water, ones with electrolytes would be even better if you can,” he adds at the end.

You nod to everything he’s saying. “Okay, okay. Maybe I’ll stay up tonight to keep watch of her, yea?”

“Yea,” it’s the first time you’ve seen him rub his neck. “That’ll probably be good. And uh… sorry about this again. I would have driven her myself but I drinked a bit and didn’t want to risk it.”

You rock back and forth on your heels. You wanted to close the gap, to reassure him. “It wasn’t your fault. None of it was.”

And then Sukuna’s shoulder slumps, looks up at the night sky as he buffs out an air before looking back down at you, his face softening. Hearing that from you, Sukuna can’t help but ruffle your hair. He holds it there before letting it run down the rest of your arm, his hand barely a touch of a whisper against yours before he says, “Get home safe,” and turns around walking away. Shoving his clenched hand into his pockets.

You put your hand onto the place he just touched, still feeling the heat from his palms. You hate how you know it’s something you’ll remember for the next couple of days.

Sukuna has his eyes trained to his phone, reacting to every vibration and every notification. He knows he shouldn't get his hopes up. You aren't obligated to update him at all. He's half listening to Mahito’s conversation when he receives a message.

You: Got home safe.

And he stares at it for a long time.

“Careful there,” Shui joins him on the backyard patio and offers him a cigarette, “you might burn a hole into your phone.

Sukuna waves it off. "I dont smoke anymore."

Shui’s eyes are still stuck on Sukuna’s phone before Sukuna quickly turns off the screen, which causes the senior to raise a brow at the man before putting the box back into his pocket. "Huh…”

“What?” The junior says almost begrudgingly.

Shui only shakes his head. “Nothing… just curious when you started caring about your health."

He remains silent. A ping! gets both of their attention but Sukuna swipes the notification away quickly but Shui caught it.

You: Thank you again. Have a good night :)

"Oh." Shui says. "It's like that.”

Sukuna ignores his upperclassmen and looks up to the sky in silence, teeth grinding.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

When you settle into the bed in Uruame’s room, she mumbles, “I think I’m in love with Sukuna.” You stop whatever you’re doing, frozen, wishing you could freeze time itself right now. This last thing you never wanted to hear from her. You had promised yourself you’d be happy for her if it ever came to this very moment.

“I was too much of a pussy to tell him tonight, which is why…” she burps and you immediately move the trash closer to her. And the next thing you know, she’s asleep and you’re darting out of the room, out the apartment, and rushing back to the library to check one thing.

Your body automatically moves to that aisle, the very same one you saw Sukuna kiss that girl two years ago. You push that thought away as you pull a random book off the shelf and flip to the inside of the book cover. You’ve always had an inkling of what was in the books after you caught the two girls talking sophomore year. You never checked it because you didn’t want to confirm what you already knew. Didn’t want to give yourself hope; wanted to deny yourself the reality because it’d just complicate things.

There, on the book checkout log, written in all caps, reads Sukuna Ryomen. Checked out on Monday.

You pick up another book, this time at the very bottom. Again, it reads, Sukuna Ryomen. Checked out on Wednesday.

You pick another one. Sukuna Ryomen. Checked out on Thursday.

Sukuna Ryomen. Sukuna Ryomen. Sukuna Ryomen. Sukuna Ryomen. Sukuna Ryomen. Sukuna Ryomen. Sukuna Ryomen. Sukuna Ryomen. Sukuna Ryomen. Sukuna Ryomen.

And it’s hard to keep your breath steady as the books lay there telling a story. One you don’t want to read, one you don’t want to finish. He had checked out all the books in the aisle you often worked in. On all the days where you had a shift. On the dates even after you resigned from the job.

It's the first time you break down into tears.

Finally back at the apartment, you get into the covers with Uruame, who’s sober enough to take you in her arms. “What’s wrong?” She rubs your back.

You shake your head and bury your head into her chest. “Nothing.” Even that word leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Before you know it, Sukuna’s birthday comes around and Uruame has invited you to tag along. Afterall, it was only common courtesy to show up since he came to yours. That didn’t mean you weren’t dreading this night, especially not when your roommate had confided in you that tonight was the night she was going to make it official with Sukuna. So you’re here as Uruame’s emotional support, it’s the least you could do.

“Wish me luck,” she told you, squeezing you into a hug as you both went different ways at the party. You lost her quickly in the sea of people as you made your way to Maki and Toge.

Maki’s dipping her toe in the pool while Toge is floating next to her. Their hair dripping, evident of having already swum before you arrived. You join them.

“Ten dollars she’ll back down like last time,” Maki teases you, nudging your side with a wide knowing smirk.

“Hey,” your voice stern. “Leave her be.”

Toge swims over to you. “What? She’s backed down like, five other times.”

“Be nice.” Your feet kick water his way, he dodges easily. “I think she’s serious about it now.”

“Yea and Sukuna had to call you to pick her drunk ass self up.”

Maki dismisses the comment with a wave of her hand. “And you’re okay with that? With her making it exclusive with Sukuna and everything.”

You shrug, looking into the pool water, focusing on the bracelet he had given you for your birthday. “It’s not about me being okay with it, it’s about me being supportive and happy for her.”

Maki hums. “Speaking of, have you said happy birthday to the birthday boy yet?”

You shake your head, thankful for the quick conversation change. “Nope. Didn’t see him when I walked in. I’ll do it later.”

Toge snorts before diving back into the water. The night continues on like this, with Yuta joining after finally being able to get away from the guys. All while this is happening, you can’t help but constantly scan the lawn and house in hopes of catching those eyes. You keep telling yourself it’s Uruame’s you’re trying to keep watch of but your heart knows otherwise.

You’re on your way back from the bathroom, heading back to the poolside when someone taps your shoulder.

You turn and it's the man of the hour.

The smile begins to grow on your face before you even know it. "I was beginning to worry if I'd get to see the birthday boy," you tease him a bit.

Sukuna rolls his eyes at that. "'m sorry. Being the host and birthday boy is not for the weak.

As Maki, Toge, and Yuta get out of the pool to dry themselves to join you both, a group of frat boys head your way. Mahito at the front, holding a tray of shots. “You guys wanna take a shot for the birthday boy?” His smile on his face gives you chills, and you haven’t even gone in the water.

Before you know it, everyone has a shot in their hand. Everyone besides you. Mahito notices this and nudges the glass into your hand. Sukuna scowls at this and brushes his hand off as a warning. “She doesn’t want a drink.”

“It’s okay,” you offer a small smile to your friend before timidly taking it. “It’s for Sukuna, right?”

Mahito throws a smile you don’t catch to Sukuna before stepping closer and raising his glass, “The one and only.”

Everyone incoherently says cheers before downing the shot. As you bring the glass to your mouth, you wince at the burning sensation. Mahito takes the opportunity to begin pouring you another shot. A tattooed hand covers yours before it can reach your lips. Just as smoothly, Sukuna somehow takes the glass out of your hand and downs it just as quickly before giving a cold stare at Mahito. “What did I just tell you?”

Mahito only laughs. “What? It’s just for fun, it’s your birthday.”

“Yea, so fuck off.”

You’re all just standing there timidly, frozen, unsure of what to do. Afraid to make one small move in the tense atmosphere. You watch as Mahito raises a hand in surrender before turning around and leaving.

Sukuna turns to your group before sighing, “Sorry about that. Mahito’s… just ignore him. Don’t think too much about it.”

You give him a reassuring smile when he lingers on you. “Alright.” You rock on your heels. “Happy birthday.”

“Thanks,” he says almost sheepishly and you want to tease him.

“Actually-” You rummage through your pockets, wondering where the keychain was when Toji hollers at him. You both look at the man and he freezes, realizing he’s interrupting a moment again. You laugh and wave Sukuna off, “Go.”

“You sure?” he’s already walking away backwards, trying to read your face for an absolute answer.

You nod your head enthusiastically before Sukuna turns back and yells back at Toji, nearly tackling him down.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

As the hours go by, you aren’t ever able to reconnect with the birthday boy. There were fleeting moments whenever you both caught each other's eyes from across the room. Moments where you are both so close to closing the gap, your hand in your pocket for the keychain you want to give him before you’re both pulled away in different directions.

The moment you are able to get away from your friend croup and the entire crowd, you stumble upon your roommate in a corner on the verge of blacking out. You immediately rush over, gently tapping her. When she doesn’t respond in the first few taps, you start to panic.

As her head falls into your hand and you feel her wet saliva coating it, she mumbles out your name. Her eyes are unfocused, darting everywhere, not quite focusing on one thing. You hate that you know this is a sign that whatever Uruame planned didn’t go accordingly. You curse under your breath.

You repeat her name over and over again. “Do you want some water?” you ask quickly, trying to squeeze in as many questions and information in the small time window before she’s unconscious again.

The moment she nods, you pull her into a lounge chair nowhere near the pool and frantically make your way inside the house. You’re scrambling around the kitchen before you bump into the man of the hour.

“Whoa, slow down there,” he teases, grabbing onto your hands to steady yourself.

You look up at him and his smile immediately drops.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

Getting out of his grip, you sigh, pinching the space between the eyes. “It’s Uruame again. She’s literally on the verge of blacking out.”

“Again?”

Turning your head to your side, you look outside to make sure she somehow hasn’t moved. “What did you say to her?”

Sukuna cranes his head down, trying to catch your eyes, hand barely twitching as his side.. “Nothing that would have caused her to be like this again.” He calls out your name. “Really, what is this about?”

If he truly didn’t know why Uruame was like this, then who did? You wouldn’t entertain the thought. Wouldn’t allow yourself to. You shake your head. “It’s nothing. I was looking for some water bottles and it’s- I think it’s time for us to go home.”

As reluctant as he was, the tall man can only nod. “At least let me help.”

You shake your head, hands moving in disapproval. “No, I can’t allow that. It’s your birthday.”

“It’s fine. I don’t mind”

And so you’re walking side by side with the pinked harried man as you take him to Uruame. All you both can do is look down at your roommate and sigh. “Lemme go get her stuff. Try to make her drink some water, okay?”

You hum. Just as you’re finished giving some water to Uruame, Mahito calls out your name. Before you can even fully turn to him, he wraps a heavy arm around your shoulders, making you freeze. Goosebumps immediately forming. “Let us be friends, yea? I feel like we were never properly introduced by the Sukuna all these years.”

“I’m sure it’s because it wasn’t necessary.”

Mahito cuts out a quick laugh, raising a brow to his friends. "I had an interesting talk with Uruame about it earlier tonight about you and Sukuna."

You’re trying to halt your steps at that. “Was it you?”

He laughs and that’s when you realise how much closer you’re walking along the edge of the pool. “Please, no.” The grip he has on you is deathening. “No, no, no!”

Sukuna stops rummaging around the pile of bags when he hears your distressed voice on the opposite side of the pool. “Mahito stop it!”

“I have to test one thing first,” he tells himself as he pushes you into the water.

As Sukuna watches you fall in, the sounds of laughs, cheers, and clapping erupt around him and he’s taken back to freshman year all over again. The way you had told him you couldn't swim when he tried too hard to invite you to a party as a means to talk to you more. The way your eyes got so big and filled with worry.

Sukuna doesn’t care how many people he has to push out of his way before he’s jumping in right after you. He’s not taking any chances on seeing if you resurfaced. As he swam in the water, he saw the way you were struggling, clawing at the water for anything to grasp onto.

When you nearly rip his skin off from grabbing him, Sukuna emerges from the water, holding you close to him. He cradles your head as he searches for you, “It’s okay. I’m here, just breathe. Breathe.”

The crowd slows to a murmur before it’s completely silent as they watch Sukuna carry you out of the pool, face hidden in his neck. Toji is standing there, breathless, having run from upstairs of the house to see what the commotion was. He stalks to the nearest person and tears their phone out of their hand and into the water. “Anybody else want to be next?”

Mahito shoves past Toji, displaying his best grin. “It was just a joke, Sukuna. No need to be so fucking serious.”

Sukuna walks past him, not sparing his president a single glance.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Sukuna gently sets you down on his bed, not caring for one moment about it getting wet. He’s frantically moving around the room, almost as if he were trying to collect his thoughts before handing you a towel and turning away to look through his drawers. You’re trying to dry yourself before he tells you, “Hands up.”

You listen immediately and feel him pull your shirt off and replace with a new one. You know this scent, smell it all the time whenever he’s over at the apartment. You look down but you already know it’s his shirt you have on.

You’re still shaking, trembling even. Where’s Uruame? The last time you saw her, she was drunk and making a scene. You only had one drink, but would you even have the capacity to drive you both home? Especially in the state you were in? Maybe-

He calls your name. “Hey, look at me. Look at me.” Sukuna’s voice is soft but stern. He crouches down to be eye level with you, combing your wet strands away from your face. “Listen to me carefully, okay?”

You look at him and his eyes are dark; serious. Not a hint of that glint and playfulness he usually has. You swallow.

“Use my towel and dry up. I found some of Uruame’s sweats in my drawer, so you can change and put those on.”

As much as that statement hurts, you need to focus. More than ever. Everything was too hectic. You can only nod.

“Okay, okay,” he runs a hand through his still wet hair. “Toji’ll help you guys leave the party, I can’t do much right now. You didn’t drink right?”

You can barely shake your head.

He curses. “Then he'll also get you guys a cab to go home, got that? Make sure Uruame lies on her side when she sleeps. And put the trash can beside her in case she throws up.”

Why was this happening? What had Sukuna done? What had Majito done? You didn’t really understand what was happening. One moment you were having the time of your life and the next you were pushed into the water.

You’re pulled back into reality when he grabs your chin to look up at him. “You’re gonna be okay. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

You can barely hum out an acknowledgement before a tear slips from your eye, and he’s there to catch it. His thumb tracing over the contours of your cheek. The moment is fleeting as he leaves the room. There, he stops, barely looking over his shoulder before saying “I’m sorry” and the door closes behind him. His warmth you felt on your face lingers a little longer than he ever has.

And it’s moments like these where you wished freshman year never happened. That you never knew the man called Sukuna Ryomen. All you can do is curl up into yourself.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

“Sukuna, listen-” Toji approaches the man of the hour after he helps you take Uruame home. But all the man does is brush past him in quiet fury.

All Sukuna can think about as he stalks to him is the look of terror painted in your face as you wer shoved into the water. They way you had begged Mahito to not do it, your voice laced with fear. The way your body went from fighting with the water to being limp within seconds.

Most importantly, he remembers the sneer on Mahito’s face. The way his eyes lit up in sadistic joy. The way his group of friends laughed with him. The way everyone laughed along with them.

Sensing the birthday boy, Mahito turns with that lopsided grin.

Sukuna punches him in the face before letting him have the first word, causing Mahito to stumble a bit. Before he can gain his footing, Sukuna grabs him by the collar of his shirt and punches him again.

Heterochromia eyes look up at him in shock then humor as he stays seated on the ground, nursing his bruising cheek. Everyone who’s watching already knows how ugly the bruise will be tomorrow.

Tattooed hands grab him by the collar of his shirt again, lifting Mahito up to his height. “I told you not fuck things up.”

The grey-blue haired man turns his head to spit out the blood accumulating in his mouth, offering Sukuna a blood coated smile. “I was just trying to have some fun.”

“Fun?” Sukuna spits out, bringing Mahito’s face closer to his. “She doesn’t know how to swim, you could’ve killed her.”

“Well, lucky that her knight and shining armour came to the rescue just in time.”

Sukuna growls and goes for another punch.

But before he can do more damage, Toji shoves them both away. When the red eyed man tries to come at Mahito again, Toji has to use all his strength to push him away again. “Stop it,” he grits out. He turns to look at Mahito. “Both of you.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Slamming the door to his room, Toji yells at his friend. “What the fuck are you thinking?”

Sukuna runs his hands into his now dried hair, not turning around. “He deserved it.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

It is only then, with that statement, that Sukuna spins around. “It doesn’t matter? It doesn’t matter? Because of him, Yn could have died. Don’t tell me it doesn’t matter.”

The scar-lipped man looks down at him. “You know that’s not what I meant. You just made things more complicated.”

“I don’t care. Because…”

“Because what!?” Toji finally snaps. “You don’t even know what you want!”

“I want her!” Sukuna professes. And then there’s silence as the words sink in. Toji refuses to speak as he simply watches his friend process those words. Watches as dread follows realization.

In a softer tone, Sukuna continues, “From the moment I saw her, I knew.” He swallows. “I have always wanted her.”

“You don’t mean that,” But when his friend gives Toji that look of resolution, of unwavered certainty, it’s his turn to swallow. “You can’t possibly mean that, you’re with Uruame.”

“I tried! I tried so hard to get her away from me!” Sukuna pulls on his hair and looks to Toji for help. “I just couldn’t stay away from her!”

“So what are you going to do about it?”

“I can’t do anything!” The pink hair holds up his wrist in agony. “I’m stuck! Jin’s health is deteriorating and father refuses to help because of that woman, so no one can watch over Itadori but me. I can barely make it to my classes in order to take care of him. I’ve been avoiding Uruame because I know she wants more than what I can give her and I can barely stand to be in the same fucking room as Mahito without wanting to strangle him! So tell me Toji, tell me how I’m supposed to push this all on Yn? She doesn’t deserve to be part of this mess, she-”

Toji grabs Sukuna and pulls him into a hug. “It’s okay. You know I’ll be here for you. It’ll be okay.”

And then Sukuna breaks down.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Sukuna’s visits become less and less to the point where he stops coming at all. You try not to think too much about it until Uruame comes back to the apartment slamming the door closed yelling at the top of her lungs about how much of a bitch the pink haired man can be before she gets into a sobbing mess about how polite he was in turning her down even after months of hooking up.

And so you never see him around ever, anywhere. There are occasional times when you see him rushing to class, but that’s about it. His group dwindled smaller and smaller until it was just him and Toji. Most of the time, he was alone. Headphones on. Shoulders a lot heavier. Hair longer and messier. You notice the black and red varsity jacket that he always wore proudly that displayed his fraternity was no longer seen on him. You also weren’t sure if you saw it correctly, but you were sure you saw a cast on his leg one day too.

“Broke his ankle,” Maki says, so nonchalantly that you almost miss it. “Got it stepped on in a qualifying game. Out for the rest of the reason.”

“What?” you stop taking notes and stare at her.

“Heard it from Yuta. Covered his face when he was carried off the field.” She sighs and looks at you. “Luckily no surgery was needed.”

“Yea…” Panda adds. “He’s in some deep shit right now from what the rumors say.”

That only deepens your furrowed brows.

“He punched the president of his fraternity straight through the face in one of the parties last week." Panda smirks. "Wished I was there to witness it."

Your pencil stops. That was the night you fell into the pool.

"He got kicked out," Toge states matter of factly.

Panda hums. "Makes sense. Supposedly he and the president never got along in the first place. Sukuna wanted to run for president and was shot down at any chance he got. They were always disagreeing on things. Pretty sure the fight was the perfect excuse for the president to use against Sukuna to kick him out."

“Do you know why?” you finally have the courage to muster out, afraid your voice would betray your emotion if your face wasn’t already.

Maki shrugs. “Not really. Yuta just told me the president had whispered something into his ear and the next thing he knew, he saw Sukuna punch Mahito in the face. Even Toji struggled to get the man off. Toji of all people. Can you believe that?”

Whatever concentration you have has dissipated. None of this made sense. Sure he looked like a rough person but you've seen him. Seen the way he put leftovers in the fridge and wrote, “feel free to take some, made too much,” on a hello kitty sticky note whenever he cooked for him and Uruame when you came home past midnight. Who, even after two weeks of you having eaten it, asks how you liked it. Sukuna, who as Uruame recounted for you, had helped you into your room when you stumbled into the apartment a little bit past tipsy and that you should be grateful towards him. Sukuna, who, after a rugby game and after putting down Uruame from a tight embrace, greets and bows to you and your friend group politely. Not leaving a single one out.

It just didn’t add up. It wasn’t the Sukuna you knew, was it? Then again, you guys were barely friends. Not even considered acquaintances. Just fleeting moments and encounters sprinkled across three years.

That was the last anyone ever saw Sukuna for the last half of the semester of junior year. Not even Toji. "Even if I did, I wouldn't tell ya." He answers you after weeks of persistence before quickly walking away from you. Expelled. Dropped out. That was what you hear around campus.

As rapid as the fire was, it dissipated just as quickly. A whisper of a ghost. Sukuna who? No one knew of that person. The rugby team spoke about him as a martyr. The fraternity scorned it out of existence.

The only recorded memory was his name scorched in those books.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You tap your feet to the ticking of the clock, hoping that it'll help fasten up the pace at the coffee shop. You were angry at yourself for losing a bet with Toge and now you are going to be fetching the group coffee in the morning for the next month.

"I can help the next person here!" A worker calls, frantically trying to set up the cashier station. Quickly wiping off washed hands, he asks, "Sorry ‘bout the wait, what can I get you?"

"Sukuna?"

He looks up from his hat, frozen in place by who’s in front of him. "Yn?"

Sukuna sees the way you look him up and down and he’s almost embarrassed. "I didn't know you worked here. Um, three iced Americans please, if you would."

He shrugs, punching in the order. "I actually work in the back. Had to open up this cash register to help with the rush hour. Medium size?"

You can only nod as you continue to stare at him. He had a cap on but from the tips poking out, you can tell his pink hair has faded to a warm salmon color, a whisper of the past he’s trying to forget, or correct. You purse your lips and look at him. Really look at him. It's been almost six months since you've seen him. His arms look a little stronger. That smile, though a little awkward right now, is just a little softer. His eyes are just as you remember. You pass him your card.

He pushes it back, shaking his head. "It's okay. It's on me."

"No,” you huff, trying to smile but failing. “I couldn’t-"

And then he's yelling out the order to the back and passing the receipt. "It was nice seeing you again, Yn." And the next person is already approaching his register.

For some reason, you feel guilty for not telling Uruame about running into Sukuna. In fact, you don’t tell her at all. Or anyone, really. Your secret to keep, your secret to tell.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Somehow, it slowly became a routine for the both of you. Oftentimes, you’re surprised no one in your friend group has caught on to you, sometimes purposely losing the monthly bet just to catch Sukuna at the cafe.

It’s harmless, you often told yourself. You weren’t doing anything wrong, per say. It had taken you a few weeks to get Sukuna’s work hours right, but when you did, even he couldn’t help but have his eyes drawn to the door whenever the chime rang through the cafe.

You crouch in front of the little boy, offering him a soft smile with a tilt of your head. "I like your pink beanie."

Itadori beams in his seat. "Thank you! Me too!" Then he leans in closer and you can't help but reciprocate. "Grandpa says I can't dye my hair pink like Uncle Sukuna or else he’d kill me so Uncle Sukuna bought me a pink beanie instead."

You can't help but chuckle. "Oh, that's too bad."

"It's okay! He told me secretly that when I move in with him he'll dye my hair the same color!" He closes his eyes with satisfaction.

You offer him a high five and he takes it.

Sukuna scoffs teasingly and you turn at the noise. He's drying off a mug as you walk up to the counter, pulling up a seat. "Don't encourage his behavior. I don’t want him to turn out like me."

You give him a lopsided grin and he nearly drops the ceramic object. "Would that be so bad?"

"Yes," he looks past you, his eyes softening. Something you haven't seen often now. "I want him to be better than me.”

You toy with the sugar packets. “I think you’re a good role model in his life.”

Sukuna finally sets the mug down, shaking his head. “What good am I? Some college drop-out working at some deadbeat job?”

“You’re just taking a break right now to focus on your family. You’re doing it for him.”

The barista puts his hands on the edge of the counter, flexing it, looking once more at Itadori, who gives him a big smile before Sukuna’s line of sight is back on you. “You don’t understand. I’m not a good person.”

“You are,” you tell him firmly.

“I’m not, just look at me.” His voice is full of disdain and poisonous venom.

“All I see is you, Sukuna,” your voice a soft whisper.

He frowns at that.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Maki flicks her gaze your way before quickly looking away and at Toge instead, bulging out her eyes out as if sending him a message. Toge raises both his eyebrows and jerks his head to Panda, who is sitting besides you, sipping his milkshake. Panda, shaking his head in refusal, silenting slices his neck in the air with his finger before pointing it at the platinum blonde boy.

Toge frowns and resorts to stomping on Maki's feet, to whom yelps and bangs her knee on the table. It is only then that you stop staring at your phone and look up at them quizzically.

Maki throws her fist in the air as a silent threat to Toge before putting on a smile to you. “Are you okay?”

“Yea, why wouldn’t I be?” you tell them curtly.

“Well I don’t know. Maybe the fact that you haven’t even noticed the fries that Panda has been stealing or the fact that you’ve been staring at your phone as if- OW!” Toge’s knee jerks up to hit the table as Maki shoots him a death glare.

“You haven’t been engaging with us at all today,” Maki clarifies.

It was true, but you couldn’t help it. After that conversation with Sukuna, he wasn’t messaging you as much nor was he in the cafe whenever you stopped by. You didn’t think you had done anything that day to set him off. Actually, you were entitled to anything. But instead, all you can muster is, “I’m okay, really. Just a busy day at my internship, you know how it is.”

As Panda nods in fake understanding, milkshake forgotten as he makes eye contact with the other two.

Given the signal, Maki reaches over the table to touch your hand. “We know.”

You freeze at that. “See? So there’s nothing-”

The twin shakes her head. “No, we know.”

“I don’t- I-”

Panda finally speaks up. “It’s okay.”

This time it’s Toge who steals one of your remaining fries. “Do you know how often you were smiling at your phone? How much happier you were suddenly? Not to mention, how often you were losing the bets when we all know how good you are at winning them?”

You open your mouth to deny those claims but Panda steps in again nonchalantly.

“Plus, you left your phone open when you went to use the bathroom two weeks ago at Yuta’s apartment. We all saw the notification from him.”

All you can do is stare at them in silence. Afraid to speak. Afraid to understand all of this. They look at you in return, just watching. Not a single one is pressuring you. Finally, “What do I do guys?”

“That’s for you to finally decide on. What you both decide on,” Maki tells you.

Toge chimes in, “What we’re gonna do is order another milkshake and fries.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Sukuna is sweeping up the floor when he hears the sharp chime of the door. “We’re closed-”

And then he looks up, because he can hear the heavy breathing and his ears tell him all that he needs to know before even looking up. He stops sweeping. “What are you doing here?”

“Have I upset you?” you can barely breathe and you’re not quite sure if it’s from the running or the adrenaline coursing through your body from spontaneously showing up like this.

Sukuna leans the broom against a chair and stuffs his hand into his pockets. “No?”

His body language ticks something off inside of you. “Then can you explain why you have been avoiding me? Whenever I come into the cafe, I never seem to catch you when you’re in. I’m sorry if I offended you the other day, I didn’t mean to.”

The tattooed man looks up at the ceiling for a long time. So long in fact that you’re about to repeat what you’ve just said again, a hundred times if you needed to, until he says, “It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?!” you finally tell him, trying your hardest to catch his eyes.

“It’s complicated. You wouldn’t understand.”

“What you don’t understand,” you step closer to him, voice catching, “is that I don’t know my own heart anymore. I don’t even know how to name what I'm feeling. I thought we were friends, and yet--”

Sukuna physically flinches. “We can’t be friends.”

Your brows furrow, getting further and further from ever truly understanding what’s going on in his brain, what’s going on with him. You can’t even comprehend what he’s saying. “What?”

“Because,” he finally says, voice shaking, “I don’t want to be your friend. We can’t be just friends.” He looks up at you and his eyes are so full with pain and longing it actually takes your breath away. “I love you.”

He breaks.

His voice. His face. His heart.

He can’t meet your eyes, almost shameful. “I love you,” he says, his words harsh and soft and vulnerable all at once. “But this isn’t how I wanted it to be.”

“Sukuna-”

He trembles at the sound of his name falling from your lips, finally, finally looking at you. “Please, leave. I can’t bear it anymore.”

And then you’re digging into your pockets, fishing out the worn out baby tiger keychain from years of carrying it. The same keychain you had mistakenly taken with your belongings when you rushed out of his dorm room after the kiss. The constant and only reminder that it had happened, that it wasn’t somehow a mistake. Amongst the warm metal, the keychain trembles in your hand as you hold it out to him.

“I’ve carried it all this time,” you tell him softly. “I meant to, somehow, give it to you earlier, but there was never a proper moment. But I think now is a good time to let it go.”

Sukuna takes it into his hands, face unreadable as he turns it over in his palms.

It was you.

The lucky charm, a matching keychain set Sukuna bought for Itadori when he was born. He still can remember the devastated look his nephew gave Sukuna when he broke the news of losing his pair.

It was the same one he spent all these years looking for; turning over each furniture in the house and driving Toji up the wall because he refused to play in any rugby game, be in any conference, or take any test without it. He thought he had lost it but all along it was you who had it. Yes… all along it was you.

He looks up and he finds that your eyes are searching his just as his are to yours. The keychain somehow burning in his palms with every passing second.

Sukuna can feel lit. He can feel you slipping away as you turn away from him and start to walk away. His voice catches in his throat and he has to swallow twice before finally saying, “I want you.” You stop. “From the moment I saw you at orientation, I have always wanted you.”

“From the moment I kissed you, I was yours. You were never going to be just an easy hook-up but I was afraid of hurting you. I’m not a good person.” He wants you to turn around, but Sukuna knows he doesn’t deserve that from you. Not after all that he’s put you through. "You are my oxygen. When I'm with you, it's like a breath of fresh air. When I’m not near you, I can't breathe without you.

“I do,” you state simply, words hanging on by a thread, “I do think of you. All the time. I wanted to forget but I couldn't.”

You finally turn around to look at him. “You stole my first kiss, and my heart. These past three years I tried to forget these feelings, forget everything, ashamed because I thought I was the only one.

“Never.”

Your entire body is trembling as you turn in resolution. “Don’t. Don’t give me hope. I can’t- we can’t. Uruame-”

“I know.” Boldly, he closes the distance between you and cups your face. In a whisper, “I know. I’ll figure something out, we'll make it work. I promise you that.”

“Sukuna,” you cry out, hand on his wrists. Unsure, just like him. You want to shake your head but his hands stop you from doing so, eyes never leaving yours. You’re unsure about all of this and you think he is too but then soft lips reach yours.

The kiss is tentative, wary, hesitant and when you open up to him and reciprocate, you hear a sigh leave his entire body. Sukuna’s grip on your face tightens as if he doesn’t want to let this moment go; as if he didn’t hold you tight enough you’d disappear. The kiss, started shy and uncertain, becomes bold and unyielding.

You pull him just as close. Lips following a steady rhythm, almost like a song written on a track record you had forgotten all these years. With every passing moment, the kiss deepens, as if it were trying to make up for all the longing stares and stolen touches, of unvoiced desires and quiet understanding.

Sukuna savors every breath and taste and commits it to memory. His hand makes it to the bottom of your shirt, finger slipping under to simply stay there on your abdomen. Something to ground him. His lips are slow and searching, drinking you in one moment and barely there the next.

Before you step back, he pulls you in for one more kiss. He sighs your name as he holds you close. Too soon, he pulls away. He’s breathing hard, and his gaze is still fixed on your mouth.

You attempt a deep breath, but there’s no oxygen in the room. Everything is him. Everything is Sukuna. His fingers clench tight around your waist, holding you in place.

You try to tilt your head so you can fuse his mouth to yours but he takes over the movement, guiding your head to the perfect angle so he can trace his tongue over your lips.

Every little insignificance and coincidences, all the struggles and problems fade to nothing as the both are able to embrace each other.

Sukuna runs a thumb across your cheek before tucking a strand back into place. He sighs your name as he holds you close. “I-”

Your lips are still warm. You feel his lips on every syllable you speak. “I love you, Sukuna.”

He puts his forehead against yours and smiles. “I love you too.”

And you know, whatever happens next, you'll both figure it out.

#not my best works but it's something #might add an epilogue who knows #jujustu kaisen #jjk #jujustu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen angst #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jjk fanfic #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna ryomen angst #sukuna ryomen fluff #sukuna ryomen #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna ryomen x you

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zombiigrll · 5 months ago

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IMMUNE? ⋆｡°✩ carl grimes x immune!reader .ᐟ WORD COUNT .ᐟ ⭑ 2.1K ꩜ .ᐟ WARNINGS ⭑ hurt to comfort?, use of y/n, blood, zombie apocalypse stuff ofc, post-terminus era, references/slight spoilers to twd 5x2 ?? petname (angel - which also did we all collectively agree that carl would call his s/o angel? i see everyone use it i have before too its so cute .ᐟ SUMMARY .ᐟ ⭑ you get bit, but nothing happens. ꩜ .ᐟ A/N .ᐟ ⭑ hey guys... its been a minute... (45 days COUGH COUGH) i am so sorry i have been SO BUSY and i didnt even realize i had this fic almost completely finished in my drafts so i decided why not finally finish it!! (which is also why the ending might be a bit weak because i also have no written anything for 45 days LMAO) my favorite thing about the whole science behind zombisim is all the theories of if you could or couldn't become immune so i wanted to write a little fic because i love... zombie science.. nerd alert!!! ☝️🤓 <- me but also whats a carl grimes/zombie fanfic writer without writing at least one immunity fic!! hope u guys enjoy!!

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────────────────────────────

everyone knew you were clumsy. you'd always have to be with someone, no matter what. that's how much people worried about you.

there had been plenty of times where you had been close to getting bit, and if you were alone, you would've been bit.

but now, you and your group were back on the road after the prison had fell. you all met up at a terrible place called terminus, and almost died if carol wouldn't have shown up. it was dangerous, and terrifying. but you had carl on your side, as always. he was the person who had saved you so many times. he was like your personal bodyguard.

you guys had eventually ended up at a church with a priest named gabriel. you felt uneasy being there. gabriel seemed, well, unstable. rick saw it too, telling carl to keep his guard up.

but after a while, everyone was inside the church, laughing and having fun.

you spot bob walking outside, which catches your attention instantly. no one else really seemed to notice, so you turned over to carl.

"i'm gonna go outside."

"do you want me to go with?" he asks, immediately sitting up.

"no, it's fine. i think i saw bob go out there. i wanna go check on him." you smile at him, standing up and walking over to where you saw bob go.

but when you stepped out, he was nowhere to be found.

"bob?" you called out, walking forward a bit more as you looked around for him. "where'd you go?"

you walked a bit further, leaning your arm on a tree as you looked past further into the distance, searching for any sight of bob.

but, to your luck, you were snuck up on. you heard a growl to your side, where your arm was leaning, and then a pain shot through your forearm.

you let out a loud shriek as you fumbled for your knife, stabbing the walker who was still attached to your arm in the head. you kicked him off, breathing heavily.

you could feel your heart pounding out of your chest.

you glanced down at the walker who was now laying dead on the ground, gripping tightly on your knife as you processed what had just happened. you lifted up your pained, bleeding arm.

"no... no, oh, my god." you dropped your knife and began wiping away the blood that was profusely leaking out of your fresh bite wound. "shit..."

you stared at your arm for a moment, attempting to catch your breath while watching your own blood drip onto the floor beneath you.

the doors to the church busted open, snapping you out of your daze. carl, rick, and michonne stood at the door, staring at you.

carl stepped a bit closer. "what happened? are you okay-" he stopped as he spotted your arm. his face fell flat and his eyes widened.

"it snuck up on me.." you quietly and breathlessly responded, tears falling from your agonized face. "i was looking for bob."

rick runs up to you as he realizes you had been bit. he grabs your arm, his face a bit panicked as he starts speaking. "we have to cut it off."

"no!" you tugged your arm away from his grip, holding your arm from him. "we don't have the stuff for that!"

"stop yelling." rick sternly ordered, putting a comforting hand on your shoulder. "let's go inside. i'm sure gabriel has the stuff for it."

you anxiously nodded, stepping toward the church with carl by your side.

"i'll get gabriel." michonne said, walking towards his office. "find somewhere for her to sit."

you take a seat in one of the rows, still holding your arm tightly.

"what the hell happened?" glenn asks, quickly walking over to the three of you with maggie by his side.

"she got bit." rick runs a hand through his hair. you look to your side and spot carl, just staring blankly, his expression the same as when he first saw your bite just moments before. he was speechless, and afraid.

you held your arm tighter as the pain increased, blood seeping through in between your fingers as you clenched your jaw. your breathing was progressively getting more and more ragged and uneven the more you panicked.

"i don't want you to cut my arm off.." you protested, your voice high pitched and wobbly. you closed your eyes tightly, a few tears falling from your eyes.

"we have to." rick shook his head. "otherwise you'll become one of them."

"i don't care." you sobbed, gripping tighter and tighter onto your arm. "i can't do it. i probably wouldn't survive either way, we don't have proper stuff for it." you could tell it was difficult for them to understand what you were saying through your sobs. "i just want to wait it out."

rick eyes widen, along with everyone else who were crowded around you.

carl finally steps closer, grabbing your other hand tightly. you could spot tears falling from his eyes. "please, y/n. i'll be with you, it'll be okay. please i.. i can't lose you."

you looked up at him through your lashes, pressing your lips together. "i can't, carl. i can't."

...

they had moved you to one of the rooms in the church that had something you could lay on. they tied your wrist to a pole and stood in the room with you.

you could barely keep track of what was happening. you genuinely felt fine, besides the side effects from losing blood.

"can you wrap my arm up..?" you requested. the tickling feeling of your blood dripping down your arm becoming too much, and you also wanted to test if that was what was making you feel sick.

being immune wasn't even a thought in your head yet. but you were just creeped out about not having any of the same side effects that anybody else had when they'd gotten bit. you were sweating, but you weren't feverish, that's just how the weather always was.

"yes, of course." glenn grabbed a thing of gauze out of his bag, going up to you and carefully but tightly wrapping it around the bite. he also grabbed a nearby rag to wipe the access blood that had been dripping off of your arm.

"...thanks." you sighed, looking away from everyone.

they were all just staring, waiting for something to happen. but nothing was. the awkward silence and suspense was killing you. you saw the sun starting to come up through the window, which means it had been quite a few hours since you had gotten bit.

you've seen people last a day, maybe the tiniest bit over a day, but you noticed that they always had obvious symptoms by now. and you still didn't.

you blew a raspberry, looking around the room. ".. i don't feel anything."

"what?" carl squinted in confusion, his voice still a bit brittle from crying. "like, you're numb?"

"no, like.. i don't feel any symptoms of turning." you laughed at how idiotic your sentence probably sounded to everyone.

"so, you're saying you're immune?" carls voice changed from being upset to just pure confusion.

"i don't know." you shrugged, tapping your foot on the hardwood floors. "i seriously don't know what's going on. the only time i felt sick was when it first happened and i saw my blood dripping. i feel fine right now, a little lightheaded, but i think thats from the bloodloss."

"look, theres no such thing as being 'immune.'" rick shook his head at your statement. "it might just be.. taking a while to settle in."

"dad, can you have a little faith?" carl turned to rick, glaring slightly at him before turning back at you. "i believe you."

everyone else seemed really skeptical about what was happening, exchanging confused looks with one another.

"we'll keep her in here for a little while, alright? if she still doesn't feel anything by tonight, then we'll untie her." rick sighed, looking down at you. you had been with everyone since the start, being there when carl reunited with rick and everything, so you could sense everyones panic when they first saw you get bit. and now, you could sense their pure confusion. people in our group have gotten bit before, but they'd show signs almost immediately.

"i can stay with her if you guys want to leave." carl said, sitting down right next to you. "i'll let you know if anything happens."

everyone agreed and left the room.

you laughed to yourself, looking over at the door.

"are you okay?" carl asks, looking at you anxiously.

"i'm fine." you turned your head over to look at him. "this is just so fucking weird. and we don't even know where bob went. i'm so confused right now. nothing is making sense." you let out another light laugh, shaking your head in honestly disbelief.

"maybe you're the chosen one." carl laughs, smiling at you. "i really hope you're being honest. i.. i don't think i can handle losing you."

you look at him with a lopsided smile, happy to hear how much he cared. "i wouldn't lie to you about this. i genuinely don't feel sick at all. i mean, i feel gross, but not in a 'i'm dying' way. more in a 'i just got my arm bitten into' way." you tried to make light of the situation, despite being terrified. carls expression stayed a bit worried. "..sorry, not funny. i don't want to lose you either carl. you're the best thing to ever happen to me, you know?"

his concern turned into a smile at your words. he leaned forward and hugged you tightly. all you could do was put your hand on his back, due to your other hand being tied up still.

"i love you." he mumbles into your shoulder.

you laugh, leaning your head on top of his. "i love you too."

...

a while passed, yet you still felt perfectly fine. your arm felt odd though, of course. you had been bitten into after all.

carl stayed by your side, telling you stories and just conversing with you to keep your mind and his off of the whole situation while everyone was out searching for bob.

you moved your arm up to your tied up one, itching at your tight bandages. “i want these off…” you dramatically complained.

“we should probably check on your arm anyways. even if you feel fine, there could still be something messed up with your arm.” carl says as he rotates his body towards your arm, carefully untying your arm looking at you for permission.

you nod, and he proceeds to take the bandage off. the teeth marks had dark bruises and dried blood around them, and your veins were darker and more apparent around the bite. it looked unreal.

you quickly looked away from the wound, shuddering. “holy shit.” you closed your eyes tightly.

you could hear carl stumble over his words as he tried to figure out what to say. “i… it… is it supposed to- um.. look like that?” he let out a nervous laugh, moving his hand to comfort yours.

you returned the nervous laugh, looking back at the bite momentarily. "i don't- i don't think so?"

your body was violently shaking, unsure what to do or what was going on. would you still need to cut your arm off? or would it still be fine, despite looking like that? you knew that you'd have to hide your arm for.. well, ever, if you decided not to cut your arm off. it could cause so many different issues if people outside of your group found out.

carl proceeded to grab anything he could find to clean your wound, as well as new bandages. you two sat in silence as he carefully cleaned your arm, the only sound being your light winces of pain as he applied the antibacterial ointment he luckily found.

he wrapped your arm back up and planted a quick, soft kiss onto your bandaged wound, looking back up at your flustered face with a smile afterward.

your face was hot, and you quickly averted your eyes away from his out of embarrassment.

he put his hand on your cheek and kissed your forehead, then pulled you into a hug right after. "i'm so glad you're okay."

you were shocked, but let out a flustered giggle before returning the hug. "thank you.." your smile kept growing and growing. then, the words "i love you." finally left your mouth.

he broke the hug and looked at you shocked, but then his big smile came back. "i love you, too, angel."

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#🌙 — maxines fics #carl grimes #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes x reader #the walking dead #the walking dead x y/n #the walking dead x reader #twd #twd x reader #carl grimes angst #carl grimes oneshot #carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes imagine

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iamthatonefangirl · 9 days ago

Text

miss possessive - congressman bucky barnes

okay not my best work, i swear i have like nine drafts i've come up with in a week, none of them good enough to post.

this is inspired by miss possessive by tate mcrae even though i completely lost sight of the song really quickly

part 2

~~~

you really had no right to be so jealous.

you watched him from across the floor, sipping on your flute of champagne. you'd grabbed it off of one of those waiters' trays as they were walking about the room.

it tasted like shit. you didn't like the taste of wine, and it wasn't even enough to get you drunk.

you knew this kind of event was difficult for him to sit through, but hey, he made his choice going into politics.

you watched as he made his rounds, speaking to various donors and attempting to charm them. you watched as all their wives fawned over your-

no.

you watched as all their wives fawned over him, bringing him in for a hug instead of a handshake. of course they were interested; he was the best looking man here. yes, he was the oldest man in the room, but appeared to be the youngest and was, regardless, easily the most attractive. and all the thirty-some wives of the cranky old rich white men wanted him.

it pissed you off. not that you had the right to be pissed, but. oh well. you're just a girl.

after two flutes of champagne, you watch as one of the donors receives a phone call, leaving his wife with Bucky. ever the gentleman, he would never leave a woman all by herself in a room full of sharks who might try to snatch her up.

Bucky was very much a different man than he was in the forties, of course. doesn't mean he lost the ability to attract every woman in the room.

you can't stand idly by as she puts his hands all over him, and he can't take his eyes off of her. no, of course he would never go for a married woman. what he did know, though, was that if he pissed her off, her husband wouldn't donate to his campaign.

you roll your eyes and decide it's time for some hard liquor.

you hide in the corner of the room, drinking your much stronger beverage as fast as possible. no, getting drunk at a professional event isn't the best idea, but what do you care. you're not the star of the show.

he is.

he's the brilliant ex-POW who's turned his entire life around in a whole new century. he's the gorgeous soldier who not only survived, but is also electing to do something meaningful with his life.

he's the star tonight.

he's the star of every thought you have of your future, but that can't possibly come to surface now. it's not the time or place.

watching him entertain this woman truly boils your blood, but at least you have some actual alcohol in your system now. you no longer feel the need to justify why her hands on his pristine suit makes you want to grab her by the diamonds around her neck and yank her off of him. you can justify your desire to grab him by the tie to pull him away from her and yell at him for not focusing on what's important.

you bite your tongue. you knew it was all a ploy.

doesn't mean you had to like it.

~~~

while you stand at the bar waiting for your second beverage of the evening, a man comes up next to you, and the bartender takes his drink order.

you give him a small, awkward smile as you briefly make eye contact. you're kind of shocked: he's definitely the only man in this room who appears to be younger than 60, Bucky excluded.

you almost startle when he speaks up, introducing himself. Michael, he says his name is.

you turn to actually face him this time. roughly 40, plenty taller than you, and brown hair sprinkled with some greys in there. your perfect type. you quietly tell yourself you're done drinking–no way you're gonna fuck this up. if you weren't so mad about Bucky's new admirer, you might be a tad less inclined to speak to him, but…

you step closer as you give him a real smile and introduce yourself.

"so, correct me if I'm wrong, but something tells me you're here alone tonight," he begins, indicating to your left hand. no ring.

you laugh a little.

"you would be correct," you tell him. "I could say the same about you."

he smiles back at you. it's so beautiful you forget all about your boss and the woman he's now got on his arm as he continues to walk around–

well. you almost forget. good enough.

"you would also be correct."

you explain why you're here, you work for one of the candidates. although, you don't tell him who, exactly. he explains why he's here, one of the patrons. you have to pry the information out of him, but you appreciate it: he's trying to talk to you without flashing his money in your face. it's noble, you think.

you eventually learn he's interested in actually getting to know the candidates' campaigns, not just what they think they can offer him in return for his money.

"you know, I would be happy to learn more about your boss' campaign. from one of the people who probably understands it best," he tells you. you're slightly taken aback for a moment, not aware this was a business interaction. you never even told him who your boss was, so it was confusing, to say the least.

you felt stupid for thinking he was actually interested, for thinking that he was flirting with you.

"oh, of course-" you begin to tell him, but he interjects, "after I take you out, perhaps?"

your smile perks back up subconsciously. so you didn't have it wrong.

"I would love that," you tell him, carefully taking the lapels of his jacket into your hands. you feel his hands come to your waist, and it's like a jolt of energy runs up your spine.

you look closer and almost flip your shit as you see his eyes up close. they're Bucky's eyes. he's not Bucky, sadly, but.

you're fucked.

"maybe dinner can happen... another time?" you offer, hoping he gets the hint. you realize you probably look like a whore throwing yourself at him like this.

he chuckles. "I've got a room upstairs, if you'd like to come have drinks instead of dinner."

hell yes. you're gonna score tonight, even if it's not with the man you dream about with your hands between your legs every night-

"I would," you say, and bite your tongue. "I just... have to stick around until this thing is over. yeah?"

he nods and steps back. "I suppose I should also do what I came here for," he chuckles. "I'll come find you later?"

you smile and you feel your face go pink. "sounds good."

you can't help the fact that your gaze reverts immediately back to your boss the second the man walks off. Bucky hasn't spared you a single glance all evening, but the second you look back at him this time, you're suddenly staring into his beautiful eyes.

he holds eye contact with you for what feels like an eternity. his expression is muted, no real emotion showing. maybe... curiosity?

of course he's not going to look mad, or upset, or jealous. you have to stop thinking he'd ever look at you with anything other than pure professionalism.

because he's everything. and you're just a kid, lost in the world, desperately in love with your boss, and everything is fucking falling apart around you.

at least you've got a rich, hot, older man ready to fuck you tonight.

~~~

you kept to your word to yourself and didn't drink for the rest of the night, although you continued hovering at the bar for the semblance of safety it provided.

you continued staring at Bucky for the next two hours. the clingy woman's husband had, in fact, returned and took her away from Bucky. clearly, she was pissed, but tried to hide it. you had to bite back a smirk.

he didn't look back at you once for the rest of the evening.

eventually, the crowd dies down. you realize that now, you have to explain to your boss that you won't be riding back to the office with him, effectively telling him your exact plans for the rest of the night. embarrassing!

you're almost ready to bite the bullet and bid Bucky a good night, scanning the room for him, when you hear a voice from behind you.

"we still on for drinks?"

you plaster a smile on your face as you turn around to the man standing behind you.

"absolutely," you say, taking his hands. "lead the way."

you begin to follow the man, telling yourself to try and remember to shoot your boss a text to 'not worry about you' before getting your clothes torn off by this man who's currently whisking you away.

you get into the elevator with him, what's his name, you think? oh, Michael, and yank him in hard, crashing your mouths together, putting all of your energy into how badly you need this.

you're startled by the sound of a clanging of metal, ripping your mouth away from the man's and turning to face the noise.

well, apparently, you were too eager and stupid enough to not wait for the elevator doors to entirely shut, because you see now that the noise was a result of Bucky's vibranium arm grabbing the elevator door. he pushes it open and steps inside, eyes piercing daggers through you the whole time.

you stand there, appalled. the man gently pulls away from you, reaching out a hand to attempt to shake Bucky's hand.

"Mr. Barnes, it's a pleasure," he begins. "my apologies for this... less than ideal meeting."

Bucky doesn't even look at the man, eyeing you up and down, taking in your smudged lipstick and the way your dress is slightly out of place.

the man attempts once more to interject. "Mr. Barnes, please, don't worry about her. why don't us men go back downstairs and have a real discussion? I'd love to hear more about your campaign."

wait. why do his words sound like they're throwing you under the bus, almost?

Bucky notices it, too, you realize. he tilts his head in the man's direction before actually averting his gaze to look at him.

"and leave the lady all by herself?" he asks.

"don't worry about that. she's... inconsequential. if you and I can just go back downstairs and–"

"what did you just say?" Bucky asks. you swear he doesn't look like your boss anymore, but someone... else.

the man is taken aback by Bucky's demeanor. his mouth gapes like an idiot.

"you do know this is my assistant, right?" Bucky asks him. the man's face goes pale as the pieces slot together in his head.

"Mr. Barnes, my apologies, truly," he says.

you just stand there feeling more stupid than ever. inconsequential? wow, okay. you almost don't even care that he's dismissing your entire existence, but you can't stand the fact that he's doing it in front of Bucky. you care more about what Bucky thinks of you than literally anyone else, and now? now he's going to see you as a fucking slut who isn't even good enough for a man to commit to for one night.

god, you're pathetic.

"shouldn't you be apologizing to her?" Bucky grits.

the elevator doors open to the man's floor, and he mumbles a sorry under his breath as he runs out.

great. not only do you look pathetic in front of your boss, but you're not getting fucked tonight, either. just great.

the doors shut behind Bucky, who has now returned his gaze to you. you wonder if he's going to press the button to go back to the lobby.

"I'm sorry you had to see that, Mr. Barnes," you say, swallowing your embarrassment as you stand up straight and adjust your dress.

he just stares at you.

"what?" you ask.

"are you okay?" he asks, and he looks genuinely concerned.

you know he cares about you, you're his assistant, after all. but that's it.

"fine," you assure him, and begin to reach behind him to press the button to take you back down to the lobby.

he gently grabs your wrist before you can.

you look at him, confused. you know your face says it all.

"Mr.–" you begin.

"Bucky," he corrects.

"can I press the button, Mr. Barnes?"

he still hasn't let go of your wrist. you feel stupid for enjoying the feel of his metal hand against your skin, for getting to feel a part of him that's real.

"you know, you clearly picked out the worst of the men here tonight," he observes.

you roll your eyes and pull your wrist away from him before you do something stupid.

"are you kidding? this place was riddled with capitalist billionaires and politicians. like you," you say, smirking.

he chuckles a little.

you can't help yourself, though. can't let it go unsaid.

"clearly you had some interested parties of your own tonight."

he rolls his eyes and finally turns away from you, pressing the button for the lobby. you let out a quiet sigh of relief. being in this elevator any longer, with him? that would just about kill you.

"you noticed that, huh?" he asks.

"who didn't?" you mumble. but of course, he's not just a politician, he's an enhanced, so he hears it.

"look, I knew she was married, I was never going to-" he begins to explain, but you cut him off.

"oh, I don't care what she does in her own fucked-up marriage."

oh my god. what did you just say? did you just admit to the fact that the only reason you did care was because she was fawning over Bucky?

fuck.

the elevator doors open, and you rush out.

you can hear the smirk on his face as he trails after you.

"so, you were really going to sleep with that guy, huh?" he teases.

you stop in your tracks. most everyone has left by now, leaving only you and Bucky in the room aside from the clean-up crew. you turn back to face him.

"can we just go?"

he nods and calls for the car to come around.

~~~

twenty minutes, you remind yourself.

in twenty minutes, you'll have made it back to the office, and you can go get in your own car and take yourself back to your own place and you won't have to be sitting thigh to thigh with your boss in the back of a limo that would totally be hot to fuck in-

he clears his throat, and you turn your head to face him.

"what that guy said..." he begins. you roll your eyes in anger at the reminder. you didn't even care he said it, you just wish he hadn't said it in front of Bucky.

you wave your hand as though waving off the thought, and waving off Bucky's concern. but it doesn't quite work like that.

"you're not inconsequential."

he says it with such a conviction you feel it deep in your bones, in the very core of your being. he sounds so authentic that it almost hurts.

a million thoughts swirl in your head. you could say i know, you could get defensive, you could say thanks, Bucky...

a better one pops in your head.

"how did you know where I was? you didn't see me all evening."

the limo stops moving. the driver rolls down the divider to grumble something about traffic at this hour? before rolling it back up again.

great. now it's going to take even longer to get home to your vibrator.

Bucky sees the interruption as a way to drop the matter. you press it.

"Mr. Barnes?"

"god, would you stop calling me that?"

you see him turn away from you to look out the window, biting his lip and rubbing his forehead. you've now frustrated him, and he's mad at you. this is good. it's easier for you to deal with him being angry at you than him being nice to you.

you know he just wants you to call him Bucky, but you're a smartass.

"yeah, okay, sorry. Sergeant Barnes," you mumble, smirking to yourself.

he about flips his shit. why is he getting so worked up?

"seriously?" he asks, turning back to you. his eyes are blown back, in anger, probably. not lust, like you wish they were. because you're just a stupid kid, and he's just your boss with a lifetime of trauma. you could never understand him the way you wanted to.

"what?" you say, biting your lip as you smile, continuing to tease him.

you swear that for a second, he glances down to your lips.

SHIT!

in that embarrassing moment, you realize your lipstick is still smudged across your face from the moment in the elevator. your heart rate shoots up as you bury your head in your chest, bringing your hand to wipe away the mess of your face, before turning to face the opposite way from him.

you are, well and truly, stuck in traffic. some concert, or sports game, or whatever...

which means you're stuck, pressed up against your boss, in the back of this tiny limo right now, for only god knows how much longer.

you're pulling your phone out of your clutch when he says your name.

you want to lean into the feeling, how smooth it is. how crisp his voice is, how pretty it sounds saying your name, as though he's genuinely paying you any attention whatsoever.

"you're not inconsequential."

it flares your anger, all of it coming up from your gut and into your throat, as you respond.

"god, would you forget it already?" you snap.

shit, shit, shit. you fucked up. you just snapped at your boss, of all people. you try to backtrack, throw out a million comments of "sorry," but that's it, you're getting fired.

you finally look back at him, and he's actually looking at you. like, it feels like he's staring into your soul, seeing all the pieces of you that you're trying to keep hidden from him.

the car begins moving again.

~~~

he watches you, trying to figure you out, as always.

he can't think of a better word for it than the fact that you genuinely amuse him.

he sees the look in your eyes, the way you're desperately trying to cover up the shame you feel over what happened in the elevator. he's trying to be gentle about it, trying to assure you that what the man said was utter bullshit, but you keep shutting him down.

god, and you look so...

no. you're, like, 80-plus years younger than him (he rubs his temples every time he remembers his age) and employed by him. any interest on his part would be purely inappropriate, a gross misuse of his position of power.

and god, his fucking age, man. he shouldn't even be around anymore-

anyways.

you look at him with those fucking doe eyes, going back and forth between anger, and shame, and something else he can't quite pinpoint.

this is probably the worst part of what happened. you're always so unapologetically yourself, but he can tell this man has gotten under your skin.

even if it's not his job to comfort you, he doesn't want you to feel like that. because who you are is perfect.

~~~

one minute, you're staring into his eyes, trying to read the look on his face.

the next, you're bracing yourself as the car spins out of control, feeling hit after hit of various cars all crashing into you sequentially.

you don't register it until after it's all over. the way he's wrapped himself around you as though to protect you. his flesh arm cradles your head to his chest and his vibranium hand wraps itself around the back of your neck.

you take a few deep breaths and begin to pull away from him, looking up to his face as you do. his eyes widen in shock as he looks at you. what? what is it?

"fuck, we gotta get you to a hospital."

~~~

part 2 out NOW 3/23/25

masterlist

tag list

tagged: @clavedelune

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #fem reader #congress bucky #congressman barnes #congressman bucky #winter soldier x reader #bucky x reader #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #assistant!reader #bucky barnes imagine #iamthatonefangirl

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kyokutsu-sama · 6 months ago

Text

Headcanons

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Their reaction when you tell them you're pregnat

Characthers: Rengoku, Gyomei, Sanemi, Tengen

A/n: Posting one of my thousands of Headcanon drafts for kny characters😅 This one is also to celebrate 1k followers❤️

I hope you like it✨️

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Rengoku :

He had been away for a few days on a mission and you were feeling a little anxious. Especially after the moment you found out you were pregnant. "Well, it seems like the night before his mission had paid off..." You thought But now you were a little afraid since you carried something very fragile inside you and you were alone at that moment. "Come back to me, Kyojuro." You whispered as you walked around inside the house When the front door opened, you felt your heart lighten but soon after you remembered that you had something to tell him but didn't know how to say it to him. And then you started to get nervous again. "Honey, I'm back." Rengoku said with his usual cheerful and loud voice as he took off his shoes and put his sword aside "Kyo!" You smiled and ran into his arms when you saw him. "I'm so happy to have you back. I missed you so much." You said, hugging him tightly "And I've been missing you so much too. How are you?" "I'm fine." You said, moving away from him and looking down, trying to avoid meeting his big, flaming eyes that were watching you. The hashira noticed that you were acting a little strange and that you were hiding something, so he couldn't help but insist.

"Are you sure? You seemed a little downcast just now." He said, holding your hands and caressing them, and you just nodded. "Yeah, I'm really fine" You said, looking at him now. You stared at each other for a moment until you realized that you hadn't convinced the flame Hashira. You then sighed and closed your eyes for a moment before giving him the big news. "Kyo, I have something to tell you..." You said, looking away "Tell me then." "I'm...I'm pregnant" You said and he was completely speechless "No, wait, are you seriously?" He said with shining eyes and a huge smile on his face. "Are you really... For real?" "Yes" You nodded and he took you in his arms, spinning you around as he celebrated the new If there was one thing he wanted most one day it was to have children and after what you had told at that time, he had never felt so happy. "I love you so so much, my dear." He said, kissing every corner of your face and putting you on the floor "I love you too." You said, hugging him "I will protect you from any danger. You, and this precious little thing here." He said caressing your belly and you smiled, feeling your eyes watering "Thank you" You smiled at him

Gyomei :

Gyomei had left very early that day to go to a quiet place outside, to pray. You woke up a little while later and he still hadn't come back. You sat down on the futon and felt very nauseous and ran to the bathroom to throw up. You knew the reason for that and it wasn't just nausea. There was something more. Gyomei didn't know anything yet and you hadn't thought about telling him either. You didn't know how he would react and besides, you were afraid after what he had experienced in the past with those children that he hadn't been able to protect. But you didn't want to do that to him and you couldn't bear the idea of hiding something so serious from the man you loved so much. He had the right to now. When you left the bathroom and went to the bedroom, you were taken by surprise when you came across the big man in the middle of the room. His size never went unnoticed. "Oh Gyomei, you're back!" You said, trying to hide the nervousness. "Did everything go well?" "Yes, the outdoor spaces are great for giving you more concentration during prayers. What about you? Do you still feel nauseous?" He asked, sitting down on the futon, next to you "Yes, yes, I'm feeling better now." You said. The hashira had already noticed that you hadn't been well for a few days and he also knew about the recent symptoms, but unlike you, he didn't know the cause behind it. But you were about to tell him in that moment. "Gyomei...I need to tell you something." You approached him, sitting on his lap and holding one of his hands "Is something happening to you, Y/n?" He asked, worried about your low voice "It's nothing bad, but it's just..." "What?" You then guided his strong, veiny hand to your belly and left it there for a while. He could tell it was your belly through the touch but he still hadn't realized what you were trying to say. "Is this your belly?" He asked, gently caressing your skin "Yes,"You nodded with a little smile. "and I'm carrying your child here." You said and he paused for a moment, processing the words you had just said It didn't take long for you to see the tears falling from his eyes and running down his cheeks. He was easily moved but that news made him more sensitive than anything else he had witnessed. "You...You're carrying something so fragile and so innocent here? Something so tiny and that has no perception of the world around it. Poor thing," Gyomei said, crying and making you cry too."I'll protect you two with my life. Even if I couldn't protect the others that night, I'll protect you. Thank you for giving me such beautiful new, you are everything to me."He said, hugging you "You too, I love you so much." You said, hugging him and feeling his arms wrap around you, keeping you safe. You were so relieved to know that he was happy with the news. He would undoubtedly be a great father and very protective.

Tengen :

The other wives had already started to notice signs in you that something wasn't right. The vague suspicion was already in the air, but you still hadn't told them anything even after knowing what was happening to you Although Makio is very suspicious that it might be true "But haven't y'all seen it yet? It's obvious that she's pregnant!" Makio said to you and to Hina and Suma, who were looking at you "But how do you know? It could just be something I ate that made me sick." You replied "You're joking right ? How could someone spend almost a month throwing up as soon as you wake up, feeling nauseous because of smells or having food cravings that would make anyone else sick. Go head, tell me?" Makio crossed her arms and you looked away "Come on, don't argue. That won't solve anything," Hina said, trying to calm the situation. "Y/n, did something happen between you and Tengen before he left for the mission?" She asked, turning her gaze to you and you snorted "Yes..." You nodded and looked down. "At least two weeks before he left and the day before the mission." "See? Don't you think that's more than enough to confirm it? Why do you still deny it?" Makio said "Jeeez Makio, don't talk so rudely. Can't you see that she's not feeling well?" Suma scolded Makio "Why? Did I lie ?" "Stop it already!" You shouted and everyone went silent."She's right. I found out a few days ago." You finally confessed "Oh, so it wasn't something you ate after all..." Makio said with a little, wry smile "I didn't want to say anything because you'd start making a fuss like you are doing now." "Ladies, your flashy husband is home!!" Tengen shouted from the entrance and the four of you quickly changed expressions."Look who's gathered here! Waiting for me? Where are my hugs at?"The sound hashira smiled and opened his arms to y'all The three wifes ran into his arms but you just sat there feeling a little nervous because of his presence. "Y/n, what's with that face? Come here." Tengen said approaching you and you stood up to hug him. "Are you okay?" He leaned in to whisper in your ear but you just pulled away and looked at him with your lips curved up in a tiny smile "Tengen, I have something to tell you." You said, holding his hands "What does my dear wife have to tell me?" "I'm pregnant." "WHAT!!?" Tengen's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open in surprise "Yes, you're going to be a father." You smiled at him "I can't believe it. That sounds so flashy. Come here, princess!" Tengen picked you up and kissed you with joy "Tengen, put me down!" You said, patting his shoulder, but he ignored you "My son will be the most flashy ever." He said with a wide smile and kissing you again "Give me a kiss too, Tengen!!" Suma whimpered from the back of the room "Me too!" Makio said Hinatsuru just chuckled at the two of them. She was so happy for you and would do anything to take care of you and keep you safe.

Sanemi :

Sanemi hadn't been home all day and you had just arrived from the Butterfly Mansion after asking Shinobu to run some exams on you after you had been feeling unwell lately. You thought it was nothing special, never even imagining that it could be something as serious as pregnancy. You sat on the couch looking at some random corner still trying to process what she had told you before. It wasn't like you weren't already expecting it (because there was a reason for that), but it was still a surprise for you. You thought a lot about his reaction and what he would say. You weren't sure if he would like it or if he was ready to be a father. You looked so confused at that moment. Your thoughts were gone when the front door closed and Sanemi came into the house. You got up from the couch and a short while later he entered the living room. "Sanemi, I'm glad you're here." You went to him and hugged him "Yeah, it was a hard and tiring day..."He gave a long, tired sigh."If you keep hugging me, you'll start to smell like sweat and disgusting demon blood." He said, caressing your back with one hand "Disgusting!" You giggled. "You're really dripping with sweat." "I told you. I need a shower, are you coming with me?" He looked at you with a suggestive look, but you looked away "Nemi, I need to tell you something first..." "What?" "Remember when I said I had to do some exams at the butterfly mansion a few weeks ago?" "Yes, why?" "The results came out today." "So?" "Nemi... I'm pregnant." You said, looking into his eyes, which widened in surprise at your words "You... You what?" The wind hashira was still confused by the news. "Is this serious?" "Yes." You confirmed again The wind hashira was speechless, he just pulled you towards him to hug you tightly and give you the greatest sense of security you had ever felt. You could have sworn you felt his heart melt at that moment. Sanemi wasn't the type to show affection as proof of love, he spoke with actions, but they could be harsh and rigid sometimes. Although it was different with you. He had a horrible father in his past. Both for him and for his siblings and his mother. All that mistreatment left its mark on him, but he swore not to repeat the cycle if he were to be a father one day. "I will protect you with my life. You are carrying my son now, I will not let any of those monsters get to you, much less any person to hurt you. You are under my protection, you and my little brat." He whispered next to your ear as one of his hands went to your belly "Are you happy about this, Sanemi?" You asked, lifting your head to look at him "You have no idea how much." Sanemi said, before kissing you with passion. "You are giving me a family. Why wouldn't you be happy, huh?" He poked your nose and you smiled."Come here, let's take a bath." He said, carrying you in his arms

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dduane · 1 month ago

Note

Dear DD, I'm wondering if you could show examples (from your own work or otherwise) of what really, *really* rough drafts of fiction writing look like. I'm talking the earliest stages of the process that normally most people don't show to the public; whenever I look around online, what folks seem to post as "WIP" samples are usually more like 80-90% polished excerpts.

While my brain logically knows these are the late-stage stuff, it has an ill-advised habit of trying to draft to that 80-90 level of quality from the get-go--I think it might help to see what the equivalent of "thumbnails" or "sketches/doodles" look like in writing, especially from someone who's been At The Work for a long time. Hopefully it's an alright request! I understand if for various reasons you can't.

I'm more than willing to show people my stuff in process, every now and then. ...But in my case, your initial query poses an unusual challenge. And it's this:

After pushing fifty years of doing this work (or indeed, you had it right, this Work) for money, everything comes out looking fairly polished.

And this can't be helped. Once you've been doing this work for long enough—once doing it well starts being the thing responsible for keeping you and your family fed—you will inevitably (eventually) evolve the ability to exude smooth-looking prose at minutes' notice. Over the years your internal prose filters will get trained into being increasingly fine-meshed... and the longer this goes on, the more flatly they'll refuse to let clunky stuff out onto the page any more. You don't really even think about it. You just keep refining a given phrase/sentence/paragraph in your head until it feels acceptable.

After a couple/few decades, this ability becomes an ever more finely-honed survival characteristic. You can no sooner emit actively coarse prose (without trying purposefully to do so, which is another story...) than you can stop breathing for minutes at a time without suffering the consequences. (shrug) It's just the way your life experience has taught your Drafting Brain to conduct itself, going forward.

Now... this doesn't mean at all that the drafted material, be it ever so polished-looking, is necessarily what you intended (or needed!) to write. Oh no. I could this very day show you some prose that by my standards is still really rough, because I wrote it five minutes ago... and you'd look at it and be very unlikely to be able to see what my problem was with it.* Whereas I'm sitting staring at it and muttering "Dammit, something's missing here. No idea what. I'll come back to it tomorrow."

And indeed I wrote something about three hours ago that (as I got it onto the page in its earliest form) left me literally gasping about how obtuse I'd been about the situation and emotions described in it, as recently as early this afternoon before I had lunch. It was a scene that had been missing from something I'm completing at the moment—indeed not merely missing but completely uncontemplated—and as it spooled itself out on the page all I could do was shake my head at my own idiocy at having missed the opportunity earlier, while I was nailing down the plot.

And I would love to show you that piece of prose right this minute, so that you could see what minutes-old prose from me looks like. Except it's seriously spoilery, and I refuse to sabotage a larger work by allowing out any material that's so loaded... and which viewed out of context would deprive it of most of its power. So, as we say around here, 'Sorry not sorry.'" Though I promise I'll come back to this and talk about it "in the clear" later, when that work's published.

...Anyway. The best advice I have for you just now is that trying to make your filters-in-training less effective is—to put it as gently as Captain Amelia might—a mistake.

That urge to have the first draft—or the "zero draft" as some are calling it these days: I use this myself—be as good as possible is frankly a lifesaver. Indulging it, sentence by sentence and paragraph by paragraph, will only leave you with less frustration, less editing and re-editing, and way less Flat Forehead Syndrome over time. You are going in the right direction, even if it makes you feel like you're losing valuable time.

Your brain's attempts to draft to the highest possible level are not ill-advised. Indulge the urge to get your drafting more right, even if it makes you suffer a bit. No one ever said this writing lark was going to be all fun. (And if they did, they lied to you.) Also: hunting through other people's WIP excerpts, be they rougher than yours or more polished, in a search for something that your excerpts or drafting style should or could theoretically look like, will do you no good in the long term... and may do you harm. All you're likely to be left with, after you haven't found anything useful in the wake of the shoulder-peering, is a sense—almost certainly an inaccurate one—that you're somehow doing it wrong.**

You're not. You're finding your own way, at your own speed. This is the Writer's Journey. (As opposed to the Hero's, which I have characters shouting at me about at the moment.) (eyeroll) As you continue going your own way, your drafting will gradually pick up speed without losing quality. ...And don't neglect your outside reading. You need to be reading outside your own genre and your own century to pick up, as it were, new (or old) plugins for your filters.

Anyway. If (as it seems) you're in this for the long term: get right down here with the rest of us and suffer your way (briefly) through it. We all agonize unnecessarily over the effectiveness of our process from time to time. The only cure is to say "fuck that noise" to the back of your Writer's Mind, and get back to the actual writing, where these problems are worked out in the only way that counts.

So: go do your thing, and let the chips fall where they may. And I hope this has helped! Let me know, over time, how things go.

*This situation is also, BTW, a bit of a problem for a writer in a career stage like mine. In an inversion of the usual rule—where "the Perfect becomes the enemy of the (Merely) Good"—the "Really Not Bad At All" becomes the enemy of the "Could Have Been Way Better If You'd Given It A 'Should I Maybe Sweat Over This A Little More?' Pass". Because the Not Bad At All genuinely isn't... but if you're not careful, you stop seeing where to kick it into the next stage when you're distracted by all the other junk going on in life.

**...But this is one of the downsides of the community, and communality, of the writing life online. We wind up endlessly looking over each others' shoulders to try to find answers that—in many cases—were already sitting between us and the screen, on the keyboard.

(And now a suggestion for those who find these occasional excursions into the Advice Barrel useful: at various folks' request, I have a Ko-Fi now. If you find the advice useful and you feel so inclined, send me a sign.) :)

#writing #writing advice #draft quality

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cherimoyatea · 5 months ago

Text

The LaDs Men healing your inner child...

...they accidentally evoke your insecurities and comfort you.

❧ Part I - Xavier - One bite away...

Pairing: Xavier x You Synopsis: You feel unappreciated because Xavier wasted your cupcakes. Tags: confused xavier almost food poisoning himself, irritated mc, food waste, mentioning of blood (a little), fluff, romance, comfort Word Count: 750 Side Notes: So, this actually turned out a bit longer than originally intended, but my brain kept spilling ideas, so I just went with it (we haven't been close lately, so I take what I can get *coughs*) I had planned to write a draft for all four men and post it in one go, but they ended up being a bit longer, so I decided to create a little series instead and post it as short stories. Deliberately avoided specifying the traumas so that everyone can project their own ideas if they like. I'm still new to writing about LaDs, but I tried to capture each man's personality as best as possible. Starting off with Xavier, since October is his birthday month! 🎉✨ Part II - Rafayel ❧ Part III - Zayne ❧ Part IV Sylus

''Huh? What do you mean by 'I'm leaving?' You just got here.'' Xavier looks at you, confused, as you turn your back on him and head towards the front door. He rubs his sleepy eyes, still unsure of what exactly happened.

You found him sleeping on the sofa in his apartment earlier and used the spare key after ringing the bell in vain. At first, you were touched by how cute and vulnerable your boyfriend looked in his sleep, but your feelings quickly shifted when your gaze fell on his open kitchen counter.

On your way to the hallway, you again, spot the cupcakes you baked for Xavier three days ago. They're still sitting untouched on the counter, and the unrefrigerated buttercream looks anything but fresh by now. You take the plate with the cupcakes and walk over to the trashbin, while a burning feeling of disappointment spreads within you as you press the foot pedal of the bin, opening the lid.

All for nothing.

You spent half the morning preparing a surprise for your boyfriend, and he hasn't even tried your baked goods. The thought that your effort went unappreciated weighs heavily on you, and you just want to leave his apartment as quickly as possible.

''Wait, what's going on here?'' You suddenly hear his voice and startle as he unexpectedly appears behind you, snatching the plate from your hands without you realizing it.

''Everything's fine. Just leave it alone.'' You shake your head, still annoyed by his lack of interest in your baking. ''Cupcakes need to be refrigerated, or they will go bad.'' Your serious stare shifts from the plate in his hands back to Xavier's bewildered face as you sigh with a defeated shrug. ''Guess, I have to throw them away now.''

''Xavier! Have you lost your mind? You could really get sick from that!''

You reach out and try to take the plate from him, but he quickly steps back and pulls it away. ''Nope. They're mine'' he replies with a soft smile, as you watch him set the plate down on the counter and take a moldy piece of pastry. Your eyes widen as he brings it to his mouth to take a bite, and you quickly grab the dessert from his hand and throw it into the trashbin.

He looks genuinely distressed as he stares at your baked goods in the trash and berates himself for his own negligence. ''You really didn’t have to do that, MC... I'm sure they would’ve still been delicious.''

An awkward silence fills the room as you sigh and follow his gaze. ''Why did you even leave them on the counter? You usually finish my food in no time...''

Only then do your eyes catch the small bloodstain at the bottom of his white sweater, and you gasp as you lift the hem. ''Xavier, what the...?!'' Your heart drops as you notice the bandage awkwardly wrapped around his right hip and he quickly pulls his sweater over the injury, attempting to hide the leaking wound, but it's too late— you have already seen it.

And suddenly everything becomes clear: Your beloved didn't eat the cupcakes because he wasn't home. He was completely unaware of the surprise you prepared for him and collapsed on his couch after he got back, drained and exhausted.

''Xav, don't tell me you were on a mission that I didn't know about...''

You say, suddenly feeling so bad for being upset over him just a minute ago.

''And what if I was?''

For a brief moment, Xavier turns away, trying to avoid your concerned expression as he considers whether to be honest with you. But then he lets out a sigh and steps closer, meeting your gaze softly.

Blue, warm eyes study every muscle on your face, trying to read your mind while you hear his soothing voice. ''Sorry for not enjoying your pastries in time. Please don't think that I don't appreciate what you do for me.''

Guilt runs through your veins as you realize that moments earlier, your partner was willing to put his health at risk in order to improve your mood, His selflessness, brings tears to your eyes, and you feel the suffocating sense of worthlessness slowly vanish from your body.

The handsome silver-blonde man softly brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, his warm eyes fixed on yours. ''I've fought through every battle just to come back to you, MC. You are seen and cherished—always keep that in mind.''

Thanks for reading!

Cheri 🍒

Updated Nov. 20th:

Added links to the other parts + fixed formatting.

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emeraldserenade · 15 days ago

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The Better Cousin ~ Joaquín Torres

synopsis: you agreed to be your friend's date to his cousin's birthday, it got complicated when he started flirting with a girl. You end up confiding in Joaquín when he approaches you.

tw: fem!reader, limited use of y/n, cabnw spoliers, barely edited.

fic, ficlet, drabble, request

This did not turn out the way I wanted it but it's whatever.

I'm just finishing up some things I have in my drafts so that way I will less guilty when I have to stop posting while I'm dealing with my family thing.

➽──────────────❥

It was as simple, accepting to be your friend's date. He was tired of his family asking when he was going to get a girlfriend. You loved him, sure, but you weren't in love with him. There was no feelings which is why you were so comfortable with it. Sure, you had to go on a roadtrip with your work friend all the way to Arizona.

It was going well, you met his family and had a good time. That's when him and some of his cousin's decided to go to a bar after the party. Which is where you found yourself, sitting alone and staring at him as he flirted and made out with a blonde.

"Hey, y/n, right?" Joaquín, one of the cousin's you had yet to talk to, asked when he sat down. "I'm Joaquín," he offered his hand and you shook it.

"Hi," you awkwardly told him, not knowing what else to say.

"Where's Richie?" Joaquín looked around and you saw the moment he spotted Richie. "Is he?"

"Making out with a blonde? Yeah," you shrugged, knowing that after this he would tell his family that you two broke up.

"You don't sound upset," Joaquín looked back at you.

"Richie and I aren't actually dating, we're friends. Coworkers mostly, he just didn't want to be hounded by your family about being single," you grabbed your drink, just a non-alcoholic Shirley Temple, the jingle of your bracelets causing Joaquín to look at them.

"Really?"

"Yeah, we had a plan. I was going to show up with him and then in like a week or so he was going to say we either broke up or come clean. Whichever he chose, I was willing to be the bad guy," you shrugged, not really caring.

"What's the plan now that he's making out with her?" Joaquín sounded genuinely curious.

"Here comes the rest of your family, so I guess I'm coming clean," you told Joaquín as his family came up with sympathy. There was a lot of comforting words from them, it made you smile knowing that even though they've only know you for a day they were willing to comfort you.

"I'll go fight his ass," Felix told you before moving to walk away.

"Wait," you called out, gently grasping his wrist. "It's ok, and I'm not just saying that. Richie and I are coworkers, friends. He just didn't want you guys to ask about a girlfriend so I said I would pretend. Truly, it's my fault, I suggested it. Well, not that I would be his fake girlfriend but that he could just lie about having one, he asked me if I would pretend. And I'm going to stop talking now," you realized you were rambling. Everyone around you just nodded and you realized how they weren't in the least bit shocked.

"Oh, thank goodness," one of the female cousins, Angeline, laughed. "No offense, but you could do so much better than Richie. Trust me," he smiled at you and you smiled back. Everyone dispersed from around you, minus Joaquín.

"They weren't shocked," you stated in slight disbelief.

"Every time he was asked something about you or talked about you, he sounded so disinterested. Everyone thought this was once sided and didn't want to hurt your feelings," Joaquín told you and you raised your eyebrows.

"Oh, I guess I never thought about how bad he was at acting," you mumbled.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

You and Joaquín had been talking for hours, both of you hadn't been drinking. You were approached a few minutes ago by various cousins saying they were headed home. You two were only still there waiting on Richie to either go home with the blonde or come over staying he was ready to go.

"So you're the new Falcon?" You were leaning close to Joaquín, the music in the bar had been turned down a little but it was still relatively loud.

"I am, I just have to finish healing before Sam will let me do anything," Joaquín told you. He had told you about what happened at Celestial Island.

"That's cool," you're eyes tracked Richie as he walked over.

"Are you two ok with me going with Ginny?" He pointed his thumb over to the blonde he's been talking to all night.

"That's fine with me," you looked over at Joaquín who nodded.

"Well, see you two," Richie ran over to Ginny and you looked back at Joaquín.

"Ready to go home?" Joaquín stood and offered you his hand, which you accepted.

"I hope you mean back to your family home because I live all the way out in DC," you joked.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

Joaquín and you carefully walked back into the house, most of the lights were off which is why you both slightly jumped when you ran into his mother in the living room. You stepped closer to him while he wrapped his arm around your shoulders in fear.

"Oh, Quino, y/n, you two are home," she gave you a smile. "The others told the rest of us all about the plan you and Richie had, my dear," her smile shifted into a knowing one.

"I'm sorry about lying to all of you," you hung your head slightly.

"It's ok," you missed the way her eyes went between you and Joaquín. His arm still around your shoulders and you stepping even closer. "I understand wanting to help a friend, plus maybe there's come good in this after all. We did get to meet you," she smiled and you looked back up at her with one of your own. "Oh, I hope you don't mind but we moved some people into the room you were supposed to stay in. I hope you don't mind having to share a room with Quino."

"Oh," you are Joaquín shared a look. "I don't mind if you don't," you told Joaquín.

"I don't," he told you.

"Good, we moved you things in there. Now run along to bed you two," Joaquín's mom told you, both of you wishing her a good night before going upstairs to bed.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

"You two know," Richie started talking, it had been a few years since you first went with him to his cousin's birthday. You and Joaquín had been dating for 2 of those. "You two wouldn't be together if it weren't for me," Richie gloated, you were sitting on Joaquín's lap laughing. You felt his arms tighten around your waist.

"Hm, and you wouldn't be single if you just listened to me and asked Ginny out. Yet here you are, single and moping because you're a coward," you gave Richie a bitchy smile.

"You win, this time," he told you.

"I win every time, how else do you think I got the better cousin?" You leaned back into Joaquín as everyone laughed.

➽──────────────❥

Masterlist | Requests

#joaquin torres #joaquin torres x reader #joaquin torres x you #mcu #cabnw #cabnw spoilers #marvel mcu

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cannellee · 3 months ago

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TOKYO REVENGERS OMEGAVERSE ★

୨୧ yandere! alpha! kazutora x omega! reader

synopsis: kazutora is utterly obssessed with you and turns yandere once you start hanging out with other people. but what happens when he goes too far...?

cw : bullying, manipulation, controlling/possessive behaviour, r@pe attempt (not kazutora), assault, angst to comfort?

note : I'm so so sorry for not posting for nearly 2ish months🙏 here's a little something that was sitting in my drafts for a while now, hope you'll like it! I'll try to get back to posting stuff before the end of the year!!

note 2 : I recently read a lot of fics with omega drop inside and I wanted to give it a try!! I'm so unhappy with how the end turned out, but I can't think of anything else to write soo... + it's so rushed, pls don't hate me🙏

MY MASTERLIST: ★

just imagine bully!kazutora, who decides to attend school regularly just to see his favourite omega every day!

he develops this weird obsession for you and can't stop himself from thinking about you 24/7. at first he's talking to you in the most casual way he can, asking you about school homework, what food you had for lunch...

you don't find him repulsive at all despite the rumours : he isn't violent and overwhelming despite his affiliation to a gang. so you engage in small conversations with him, almost finding yourself in a secluded space with just the two of you more often than you can remember. but kazutora has been nothing but a nice alpha with you! so you let your guard down.

his mean behaviour didn't start until the summer break. you discovered yourself and gained confidence, going out more and discussing with more people than you used to.

when kazutora was one of the rare people occupying your already tiny social circle, he now was one friend among so many. of course he had that special place in your heart, but how could he know ? regardless, it wasn't enough for kazutora.

he felt a burning jealousy consuming him wholeheartedly whenever you gave that new friend of yours more attention than him.

you used to be so shy and awkward, timidly walking up to him in hopes he'll talk to you. now kazutora has to witness his omega act like a social butterfly, smiling and hugging others like it's no big deal.

he's fuming. he doesn't want the thousand girls fanning over him and he couldn't care less about the people gathering around him to try and befriend him.

no, kazutora fell for you first and wants nothing more than your precious bubbly self for him to see only. what do you mean you have to cut short your daily walks home because some nobody invited you to the library ?

kazutora lives that as a betrayal and can't even fathom the idea of you slowly slipping away from him. he just had to do something. he felt sick to his stomach just thinking about you with someone else, about some alpha making moves even though he didn't even get the chance to properly kiss you or hold your hand.

but kazutora is smart. kazutora is charismatic. kazutora is an alpha with a sweet and charming smile. his bad reputation flew over people's heads whenever he flashed them his signature smile followed by his sugar-coated words.

you didn't think much about it when some people started avoiding you, interacting with you less and less. those were the ones you only made small talks with once in a while.

some started to throw you weird looks, whispering after you passed in front of them to join your locker. you frowned a bit, but no harm was done so you shrugged it off.

it was all too progressive to be a coincidence. first the rumours, then the physical bothering and finally, people outward causing you abuse.

it was scary and off-putting how everyone seemed to have turned their back on you, bullying you like you never laughed together just a month ago.

you pondered and questioned yourself, absolutely clueless about the unfair treatment. you now came to school with an unbearable pit to your stomach, scared as to what other students would come up with today.

while some deliberately left your side and bothered you for a couple of days, they soon got bored and simply proceeded to ignore you. but there was this particular friend group, which seemed adamant to keep persecuting you under any circumstances.

a few betas and alphas, everyday pushing you to the edge, cornering you in the empty locker room and tormenting you or literally destroying your belonging when you had your back turned.

it was all too much. everyone just disappeared from your life and you were left with a growing fear and apprehension. your usual vanilla scent was reduced to ashes, barely present, meanwhile you kept your mouth shut most of the time, sometimes even going days without talking to anyone at all.

it took a toll on your mental health, your instincts not fit for such a lonely life. you were made to be cajoled and appreciated, to enjoy life and make your loved ones happy.

you didn't have anyone anymore. you tried a few times to catch your closest friends in the hallway whenever you saw them pass before you, but none of them spared you a glance, hurriedly mumbling apologies before looking around them with fear in their eyes.

nothing made sense anymore. not even kazutora, who you thought was a genuine friend, helped you. he still attended school with an impressive diligence, you caught him sometimes talking to your bullies whenever the six of them ate together during lunch.

you had taken the habit to spend your lunchtime at the back of the school, far from everyone. you enjoyed those moment sof peace, even being able to keep an eye on them from where you were. you coul easily spot them without you being visible.

kazutora towered over them like a self-proclaimed leader, while they all listened to him with respect. kazutora was far stronger than them and could simply order them around the way he'd like.

you often wondered why he would take part in such a horrible thing, tormenting you as if you actually deserved it. what surprised you was how he seemed to never actually commit those said acts himself, making you even question if he was behind it all.

still, you kept your distance from him. your own feeling of betrayal hanging heavy in your mind at kazutora's indifference towards you.

· · ୨୧ · ·

you fell on your butt after a particularly mean push to your shoulder. you looked up, wide-eyed and scared, the sound of laughter entering your ears as you watched their smirk deepen.

you hung out later than usual at the library, studying until it was all but dark outside. you carefully packed your stuff without any worries, not expecting anyone at this hour.

but to your luck, the same exact people were there, waiting for you like a pack of starved hyenas. you pushed past them, hoping that would keep them from bothering you any further, their sadistic urges already satisfied.

their pheromones felt especially menacing tonight, you didn't know if it was your mind playing tricks, feeling more vulnerable than ever now that you were all on your own and exhausted.

your instincts exhorted you to flee from here when they grabbed your shoulder to make you turn around. you couldn't dare look up, their sickening laughs doing enough to make you beyond scared.

they trashed you around, taking pleasure in your lack of power, your optimistic self easily defeated by the days spent in fear and anxiety. you instinctively reacted to their scents, your limbs automatically shaking, mind cloudy, trying its best to protect itself.

you could only cry pitifully when one of them threw you, forcing you to make contact with the floor once again. and when his eyes lingered over your figure in a predatory gaze, a smirk streching his lips and his tongue passing over it, you felt your blood run cold.

you searched for any ounce of humanity in his friends' eyes, hoping they'll realise that they were going too far and eventually call out the alpha. finding none, you felt yourself slipping awat by the second, your senses way too overly stimulated by their treatment.

you cried harder, his hands feeling like knives digging into your flesh, a ruthless attempt at stripping you away from what little dignity you had left.

he sat on top of you, his weight forcing a few coughs out of you, unable to breathe properly. he continued his assault comfortably, his friends cheering him on with no regard to how your whole world went crashing down in this exact moment, all your strenght abandoning you, unable to fight anymore.

your mind went blank, trying so hard to process what had just happened to you when you felt one of his friend pull him off of you. mumbling something about kazutora and telling the alpha that they scared you enough.

he reluctantly agreed with an angry growl and a condescending slap to your cheek, knowing kazutora was far too scary to go further with his omega. he mockingly barked at you to be grateful, but you couldn't hear him, nor could you move.

you simply laid there, a pool of tears clouding your vision, tiny and pathetic cries leaving your soar throat. you couldn't protect yourself from the unshakable feeling of terror and helplessness and nobody was there to give you support.

you really were all on your own.

· · ୨୧ · ·

you woke up in the softness of your nest, memories blurry and confused, yet all your senses vividly alert. the blankets and pillows were in a mess, mascara smeared across your cheeks, your high-school uniform still on and furiously torn apart, and the smell of blood floating in the air.

after dragging yourself back to your home, you had used all your remaining strenght and could no longer move. yesterday was your last straw and all you could do was lay on your side, head pounding from all the crying and feeling like a lifeless doll.

you felt like a stranger in your own body, unable to shake off the overwhelming fear. you couldn't find any source of solace, your nest wasn't even yours anymore, it felt foreign. you didn't feel safe anywhere.

you slowly let your thoughts consume you.

you couldn't do it, you weren't brave enough, strong enough. you had been able to handle it for the first few months but you felt yourself fall deeper into this nightmare and your were afraid you would never be able to get out of it.

kazutora didn't think much about your absence at school today, he was visibly disappointed to not be able to see his favourite omega, but didn't pry too much.

after a day turned into two, then three and then almost twoweeks now, he grew more and more concerned. he was agitated, pissed off by the situation, skipping classes the second he didn't see you there. he tried calling you multiple times a day, left you a hundred of messages and despite the strangeness of his sudden concern for you, he had expected you'd answer them, or at least read them. but you didn't.

he was left in the dark and was surprised at himself to have let you flee his eyes for this much time, almost instinctively sensing the abnormal urgency in your absenteeism. he had consulted those meaningless people he used to isolate you, kazutora was such a threat on his own that he was sure they couldn't have possibly lied straight to his face. or is it that they've took it too far ? kazutora knew he had warned them about it, scaring you was fine, tormenting you was fine, anything beyong that was like asking for death.

he found himself at you doorstep the same exact day, a plastic bag full of various medicines just in case. he knocked, waited, but heard nothing. he tried smelling you through the cracks, your heat scent usually so strong it literally slips from under. but he sensed nothing, comfirming you had no academically right reason to not attend school for such a long period of time.

he called your name, screamed it in desperation, banged on your door to try and stir up some movement from inside, but everything was dreadfully calm.

a million thoughts went through kazutora's mind when he broke into your home. he breathed in your familiar scent, the same one that instantly made him feel all sorts of things the way no other omega ever did. he took a minute to observe his surroundings, smiling at how cute and friendly you had decorated your place. despite the unusual darkness, it was indeed very charming. kazutora thought it suited you very well.

when he kept going further into the hallway, a strange feeling flooded his body. despite his excitement to finally see your face after two weeks, he somehow felt anxious. he didn't know what to expect. had you finally crumbled under the pressure of having no one by your side ? did kazutora break you enough that you'd seek comfort near anyone who would offer you a helping hand, even if that person was him ?

oh how did he want to have you all for himself once again, to have you back in his arms, talking to him with your shy eyes, teeth biting your lips in nervousness and too intimidated to even think about leaving his side.

what sight awaited him inside your room? will you welcome him, tears of relief and happiness flooding your eyes upon seeing someone care about you? after all this time of fighting alone, fending for yourself like a frail lamb when your whole purpose was to rely on others ?

kazutora couldn't wait to become your saviour, to chase away those annoying people who had dared mess with you, even if it was all his fault. you just would have to give him one word, one proof of affection and he'll immediately be on his way to teach them a lesson.

he opened your door, feeling entitled to do so without even asking. he frenetically searched for you, nose instantly trying to pick up your sweet scent. you were curled up between a pile of blankets, frame shaking and your fists desperately clutching the fabric.

he frowned slightly, yet still unaware of the alarming state you were in and approached you slowly. he smiled when he took notice of the teddy bear he had gifted you a few months prior, his chest warming up with pride upon seeing how hard it was pressed against your chest.

he gently called your name, nudging you just a little bit to get you to open your eyes. not wanting to scare you, he made himself as small as possible, voice barely above a whisper and movements as slow as he could.

but you couldn't move an inch and kazutora soon realised that your whole body was burning up, and not from a heat. he checked your forehead, watched how your breathing was weak despite being shaky and finally took in the terrifyingly rotten smell of your scent, nothing like he had expected upon entering your room.

although delusional, his instincts couldn't ignore and misinterpret the distressed pheromones your whole body emitted. reacting immediately to them, he softly caressed your face, removed you from inside the covers and took your worn out body in his arms.

he tried stimulating you by saying your name as kindly as possible, his own body burning up from the stress and creeping guilt slowly consuming him after linking everything together. was that the consequences of his actions? he looked at your face, torn with pain and fear, noticing with horror the purple bruise on your wrist and the equally awful red marks on your neck and arms, some even bleeding.

he showered you with his own pheromones, using nature's ways to force you into a calmer state.

what has he done? was it all his fault? he should've known you weren't this brave and should've known you'd need him sooner. he should've taken the hint and go to you instead of observing you slowly falling apart and delaying the moment when he'd finally come at your rescue.

he watched as you slowly but surely came back to him, eyes blinking up at him, unable to comprehend what was going on. you were all dopey and insanely fragile, your mental state on the verge of a cliff, threatening to fall if you were to be feeling any bit of discomfort.

· · ୨୧ · ·

surpringly enough, you had warmed up to kazutora faster than he had expected. when anxiety plagued you with its torments, he was the one you instinctively reached out to, his scent carrying a sense of comfort and safety.

it was unfair how he could prevent your mind from torturing you any further when he was the primary culprit. you weren't even able to get a full night of rest because of it, and now you were accorded sleep because he decided it was best for you.

he literally drugged you with his pheromones during the period you were more than vulnerable, unable to take care of yourself. breathing in kazutora's scent whenever you felt down and distressed, had you assimilating it with something close to a safe place.

when you first woke up in his embrace after falling asleep to the sound of his apologies, you tore yourself away from his arms. you trying to move with what little strength you could muster forced his own eyes open, his hand, too quick to not be a reflex, caught your waist, keeping you against his chest.

"let go of me," you whispered after trying to pry yourself away from him, gripping his forearm, desperately wishing to make him move.

"y/n..."

"I said let go of me kazutora. why are you even here ?" cutting him off, you looked at him angrily, tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

the pained stare he was met with was enough to make him regret all his actions. sheer betrayal was written all over your face and the scent which once brought you comfort, now only made you uncomfortable. he was too close. his hands tangled with your waist and wrists... you were scared of what they could do to you. he was holding you too tightly. he was afraid you would disappear.

"kazutora, you're hurting me. just what exactly do you want and how did you get in ?" he quickly let go of you, muttering a few awkward apologies.

"...how did you get those bruises ?" he asked after a long silence, partially pleased you weren't ordering him to leave anymore and relieved you didn't push the topic of his intrusion any further.

"keep playing dumb and I might actually get really angry" you had pushed yourself up, refusing kazutora's help and was now sitting, glaring at him.

"please y/n, I assure you I don't know anything. I wouldn't have let anyone hurt you like this..." you chuckled half-heartedly, looking at kazutora's pleading eyes with contempt in yours. you could tell he was taken aback with how things were turning out with how he grabbed your arm softly, as if begging you to please believe him.

"ask your friends, I'm sure they'd love to tell you all the details about what they did."

and with that, you turned your back on him, tired of talking to him who acted like nothing was his fault, as if he hadn't played a huge role in how people treated you.

you were too tired to curse at him and yell for him to get out of your sight, you fell asleep in almost a few minutes this day, not caring if kazutora had anything to tell you or if he was even still there, invading your nest and taking up all the space like he was used to when it came to you.

· · ୨୧ · ·

upon your confession, kazutora was seeing red, rage fully consuming his body and abandoning him to a state of pure instincts.

he stayed still, observing your steady breathing and the mess he had caused because of his jealousy, hands shaking at the sight of your injured body.

he made sure one last time that you were covered with his pheromones, which, no matter how much you hated them, helped you calm down a bit and have a good night rest like you needed.

he got up, barricaded your door that was slightly broken and left you alone in your apartment, ready to pay a visit to those people he had used to get what he wanted.

you've always been fragile, your nature shaping you to be more delicate than him, but never had he ever seen you this weak and defeated. although he had his response in your current state, he promised himself he would redeem himself, vowing to protect you just like he should've.

and it all starts now, by getting rid of the ones who thought they could go as far as laying a hand on you.

when he came back, he let out a relieved sigh seeing you hadn't move. he threw his now slightly red t-shirt on the floor and went back to your side, pleased with what he did and happy there were a few less threats for you out there.

he kissed your naked shoulder and fell asleep, inhaling your sweet scent he craved so much and swore nothing bad would ever happen again.

kazutora would make sure of it...

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wh0reforcoriolanussnow · 1 year ago

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“I’m a big fan” || Tom Blyth x singer!reader

GIFs by me :)

Summary: in which after Tom reveals that he is a big fan of you, especially after you’re a part of soundtrack of tbosas, you and Tom are caught being awfully close to each other a few weeks after.

Warnings: fem!reader

Wc: 643

A/n: Sorry I haven't uploaded a tom blyth x singer!reader fic in abit! I've got another one sitting in my drafts that I need to finish :)

Tom Blyth x singer!reader au masterlist

divider by @pommecita

“Tom and Hunter on…. Y/n Abrams’ Hunger Games single” “So good. It's so good,” Tom says immediately. Hunter squeals, throwing her hands up in the air.

"I love Y/n Abrams," Hunter fangirls, a huge smile plastered on her face. "Yeah, I'm a big fan of her honestly. I hope I get to meet her someday," Tom has never mentioned you on the internet before.

Truthfully, he has always been a fan of your music since you first released your first album and has stayed a loyal fan. He would be lying if he said he didn't have a crush on you, I mean who wouldn't, you are Y/n Abrams.

So when he saw your post on instagram announcing that you were going to be a part of tbosas soundtrack with 'Can't catch me now' Tom was absolutely fangirling

Of course you were familiar with Tom but the two of you have yet to meet. You remember seeing him on screen for the first time when your sister had Billy the Kid playing on your tv at home, and you were hooked.

You understood why the girlies were head over heels for Tom, he was crazy attractive, a gentleman, and an absolute sweetheart. When you saw the interview that mentioned him, you were dying to meet him as well.

Little did he know that you would be attending the LA premiere for the tbosas and would see him for sure. “Y/n, any one in particular your excited to see today?” A woman asks as she directs her mic at you.

“Uh- yeah actually, I’m excited to finally meet Tom!” You couldn’t help but feel the corners of your mouth rise. “Really? Well I interviewed just a couple moments ago and he said the same with you!” Your eyes slightly widen as your eyes look around.

“I think he’s over there,” The woman points to the other side as you thank her before making your way that way. You were whisked into another interview before you could go any further.

As you were talking, you felt a hand on your shoulder as you jump. “Shit-“ “Sorry-“ You turn your head and was pleasantly surprised seeing those pair of blue eyes stare straight back at you. "Tom!" Your smile widens as you grip his biceps, his hands politely gripping your waist.

"Y/n! Finally we meet!" He chuckles as you could feel the rumble coming from his chest. "It's so lovely to meet you," You pull him in for a hug, all the while the camera still focused on the two of you. All though the two of you just met, you felt so comfortable around him, and he felt the exact same way.

"I'm such a big fan, Y/n," He says against the side of your head, his hand rubbing your back before you pull back. "Oh stop, I'm such a big fan of you too, Tom!" You exclaim before you remember you were still mid interview. "Oh! I'm so sorry," You sheepishly smile at the girl who laughed.

"Sorry, It's my fault for interrupting you. I'll see you soon?" Tom butts in, his arm around your shoulder as he pulls you into his chest. It didn't feel awkward or uncomfortable the way the two of you interacted with each other, it was more natural and familiar.

"Yeah of course, I'll see you then," You look up at him, you nearly stopped breathing at how close he was to you. "Bye, darling," He bids you goodbye as you watch his tall figure leaving. "No way the two of you met just then," The young woman asked, shock evident in her tone.

A breathy laugh escapes your lips, "Yep, it feel's like I've known him my entire life!" "It looked like it!" The woman exclaims as the two of you laugh.

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mellowmusings · 3 months ago

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Blessed mistakes | Prologue Azriel x Reader

part 1

A/N- This is just a drabble for now and its been sitting in my drafts for a while so i decided to post it. Not sure if i'm gonna continue on this though.

summary- After over 5 centuries of waiting Azriel hasn't found his mate, given up all hope of any chance of finding her he decides to start pursuing Elain, not seeing what was in front of him all along.

This was miserable, He was miserable.

The stale tavern air reeked of unwashed bodies, alcohol and bile. Men and women sang bawdy songs in offtune tones drowning out the music, in a corner a brawl went on, men punching one another over a rigged game of poker, women flirted with him, and none took to his liking.

How the mighty had fallen, he mused. He gulped down his whiskey, the burn in his throat grounding him. A few centuries ago he would have been drinking himself to his limit with his brothers and bedding whatever pretty female came his way, but that wasn't the case anymore. Somewhere along the path he'd fallen in love and started caring for females who could never love him the way he loved them. Now his heart was a stupid, broken mess of emotions and feelings he didn't like, and so he spent his days working himself trying to forget his feelings, now he spent his nights training because even sleep had abandoned hom. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been happy, genuinely happy and felt Loved

*2 centuries ago*

The cool summer breeze ruffled his hair, the birds sang in the background, almost harmonizing with one another. He could make out the call of the Mockingjay, A cuckoo bird, and maybe a peacock too. He sat besides y/n, his who was like a younger sister to him. She'd practically grown up with him, Cass and Rhys since they were teenagers. "Hey Az, can i ask you something?" She carefully unfolded the petals of a half bloomed daffodil. "Sure what is it?" "If you had to choose between Mor, your mate and me who would you choose, to love I mean." She asked, a slight hint of nervousness in her voice. Her question caught Azriel off-guard, he loved her but not in a romantic manner, he loved his mate more, no matter who she was, after all, she was his other half. Mor on the other hand was everything he yearned for, she was simply...perfect. He admired and respected her a lot, but more than that he loved her a lot. He thought for a moment before responding "It's tricky, on one hand, there's Mor and on the other, there's my mate. I'd say, my mate" He said carefully, not sure where this was going. Y/n's face fell just the slightest, if he didn't know her well, he wouldn't have noticed, but he did. "What's the matter, princess?" He asked softly, "What about me?" y/n asked softly He huffed out a laugh before responding, "I love you a lot, I really do princess, but you're like a younger sister to me, plus my mate always comes first." "right, of course they do." she said dejectedly, swinging her legs back and forth holding back tears. "Whats the matter princess?" 'The thing is Az you could slit my throat and with my one last gasping breath, I'd apologize for bleeding on your shirt, gods why can't you see it? I love you, and I love you more than you could ever imagine.'

She didn't say those words but gods did she want to, she wanted to tell Az how stupid he was for giving his heart to some females who were just gonna stomp on it and leave but she didn't because Azriel loved Mor and some mate he didn't know more than he loved her. She was always going to be a friend to him, nothing more, nothing less. So she continued swinging her legs and lied to his face with a simple 'I'm fine, I swear'. He didn't believe her, they both knew each other well enough to know that much, still he didn't pry any further. So they sat in silence, and stared at the setting sun while the world around them went quite, she averted her gaze away from Azriel as tears fell and landed on the broken yellow petals. if y'all wanna be tagged, just let me know :) @starlightazriel @scorpioriesling @velarisdusk @siriuslystyle1989

#acotar series #acotar #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #acotar fanfics #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #azriel angst #azriel acotar #azriel fanfiction #azriel fanfic #azriel #sjm books #azriel x oc #azriel x you #azriel fic #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #fanfiction

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checosbluespring · 1 month ago

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you are my everything → sp11

sergio "checo" perez x wife!fem reader

genre: established relationship, hurt/comfort, shower sex

cw: 18+ MDNI, smut, p in v, slight angst, slight possessiveness, dirty talk, pls let me know if i am forgetting anything

word count: 1.6k

song: tommy & pamela - peso pluma

sidenote: hi everyone!! i have not uploded in so long but this has been in my drafts for a while so i though i would finally finish it up and post it. i miss checo so bad but i genuinly hope he is enjoying life right now, he deserves it and so much more. please let me know if y'all have any ideas or requests for a fic (I write for all drivers including indycar) and marvel/9-1-1, also not beta read. hope you all enjoy <3

♡♡♡♡

Sometimes you hated being married to an athlete, especially an athlete who risks their life every time they work. This was the second time this year alone you had witnessed your husband Sergio get in a really bad accident. The first was in Monaco and now in Baku. This crash terrified you. It happened out of nowhere and all of a sudden you see your husband crushed up against the wall. You feel a pit in your stomach start to form and tears start to well in your eyes. Everyone in the paddock is looking at you.

You feel a bit of relief when you see him jump out of the car, looking seemingly fine. You knew though that he would be pissed. You silently thank yourself for not letting your kids come to this race because they shouldn't have to see their dad hurt. Although you know that they are probably watching the race and that you should call and tell them their dad is okay. You decide to try and find him before he is taken to the stewards and has a team meeting.

Pushing through crowds of people you make it to the front of the garage and see Sergio, walking fast into RB’s hospitality. Part of you knows his emotions are high and he's angry so you want to leave him but you need to check on him.

Just as you venture off to go find him, your phone dings and you see a text from him.

I'm fine Amor, we will be fine. Please go back to the hotel room. We are going to be here for a while and I don't want you just waiting. Go get dinner and call the kids. I'll be back as soon as everything is done. Te amo mucho mi reina.

You feel a bit disappointed as you read the text, but you know he's doing what's best for you and himself at the moment. All that matters is that he's okay and you are willing to back off until you see him later tonight.

You catch a ride back to the hotel and make yourself comfortable. You call your kids and reassure them that their dad was okay and that he would call them as soon as possible.

While you wait for your husband to make it back, you decide to take a shower and order some dinner for the both of you. It was incredibly hot at the race and a fresh shower was all you needed to feel a bit better after the emotionally draining day you've had.

Time is passing by very slowly, you've already eaten, showered, watched a movie. You keep looking at the time on your phone, it reads 8:00, but it's been radio silence on your husband's end.

Another hour passes and you finally track his location to see where he is. You see that he's finally leaving the track and on the way back to the hotel.

30 minutes pass before you hear the door unlock and open. You sit up and watch as your husband walks in and takes off his shoes.

“Amor…” you speak, but are quickly cut off by Sergio saying “babe, I know you have been waiting all night for me, and I love you so much but can I please shower first and then we'll talk”. You nod your head and that's all he needs to start undressing and heading to the shower. He closes the door and you hear the water start.

Knowing that he's so close but still so far away builds a fire in you. You need to talk to him, be close to him, feel him. You make the split decision to walk into the bathroom and confront him. Your plan is to just sit on the floor, and ask him questions that's all you need.

As you walk in you see droplets of water run down his toned back, everything is steamy in the room, further adding to the flush on your cheeks. Seeing your husband naked shouldn't make you so hot and bothered but it does, the way his shoulders flex, his long legs, and broad back.

Something snaps inside of you and you decide to take your clothes off, you’ve already showered but you needed this. Opening the door you slip in right behind him and hug his back. Instead of breaking away from the touch he embraces it, pulling you in closer.

“I’m sorry mi amor, I was just so upset and I didn’t want you to have to see that side of me, you or the kids” he says while turning to face you.

“I know baby, I know but you have to talk to me, let me know that you are okay, I was terrified that something happened” you respond.

He nods and says “ I know I’ll always keep you updated. you and the kids are my top priority always”

Satisfied with his response you place your head on his chest and hug his hips loosely. Peering up at him you ask “are you sore?”.

He nods “my back and neck are killing me, but nothing a good massage couldn’t fix” he winks down at you. You laugh at his response but feel a pit form in your stomach when he says he’s hurt.

“Let me take care of you” you say as you turn him around and grab the shampoo to wash his hair. You silently thank the hotel for having a removable shower head so you can properly wash Sergio up. Taking your time you run your hands up and down his body, your final resting place being a firm grip on his beautiful cock.

You have seen male genitalia in different forms but nothing ever compares to how pretty and satisfying your husband’s is. You grab some conditioner in your hand and slowly flick your wrist up his length, pulling a soft moan from his lips. “Fuck it’s been so long since you’ve had your hands on me”. You silently nod, it really had been too long. With you and him separated most of the season, you find yourself craving him more and more with each hour you are apart.

“I’ve missed your cock so much, my fingers don’t compare to yours” you whisper into his neck.

Your husband reaches down in between your legs and shoves two fingers in you simultaneously. It doesn’t hurt from how wet you are but, you know that you have to be tight because the last time you’ve had something in there was a couple of weeks ago when Sergio was able to come home for the weekend.

“Mierda you are so tight, you need my cock in you don’t you?”

You nod desperately, all you need is to feel him inside of you. Next thing you know Sergio is pulling his fingers out of you, placing a heated kiss on your lips and tightly gripping your hips to turn you around so that you're facing the glass wall of the shower and your ass is presented perfectly for him.

“Fuck look at this big ass, it’s all mine right baby? It’s mine to fuck nobody else” you feel yourself getting wetter and wetter with each filthy word that comes out of him mouth. You aren’t necessarily into ass play but you do love how obsessed your husband is with yours.

“Fuck me please Sergio, I want you so bad”

Sergio spreads you open and slowly thrusts into you. The burn is undescribable. But also one of the best feelings ever. He grabs your hips like a vice, making sure to leave bruises for the following days. He slowly rocks into you, as you try to find any piece of dry surface to grab onto so you don’t slip. Moving your hips backwards you start to meet his thrusts.

“Fuck, it feels so good” you grit out through your teeth.

Sergio grips a handful of your hair and pulls you flush against him. He attacks your neck leaving a trail of soft kisses and hard bites.

You start to feel that familiar sensation in your pelvis, desperately wanting more you trail your hand down to your clit and start rubbing circles in hopes to get you across the finish line.

Sergio sees this and pounds into you hard and fast. If he keeps up this pace you are gonna come in minutes, you look back at him and whisper “just like that”.

He understands and keeps going at that pace and suddenly you feel something snap inside you and you are cumming all over his cock. You lose feeling in your legs and your knees start to buckle, Sergio keeps you steady while still trusting in you. The overstimulation getting to be too much, your husband notices and says “too much baby?” You nod and he pulls out finishing the job with his hand around his cock.

His hand grabs your hip to keep you in place and he shoots his load all over your ass, he cums with a quite fuck and leans his head over your shoulder while he catches his breath.

After a few seconds of pure blissful silence, your husband speaks up “thank you amor, I truly don’t know how I got so lucky to have you as my wife. I love you and nothing will ever change that” you feel yourself getting choked up because it’s not common for Sergio to get sentimental like this but you turn to face him and hug him, whispering a quiet I love you.

At the end of the day no matter how worried you are about his job, you would always support him, and honestly life couldn’t get better than this.

#f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 smut #f1 x reader #checo perez #sergio checo pérez #checo perez x reader #checo perez smut #checo perez fanfic #sp11 x reader #sp11 #sergio perez #sergio checo perez #checo perez x fem!reader #sergio perez smut

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piracytheorist · 1 month ago

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In Life, And in Death (1/11)

Fandom: Spy x Family Word count: 4.1k for this chapter | 32.4k in total Rating: T Warnings: Temporary character death, graphic violence, horror imagery, body horror, mild gore, whump, language Cover art by @buf309

Summary: Anya is kidnapped, and Twilight is thrown into the horrors of a mysterious, deadly village. Forced and then choosing to survive its trials - physical and mental - he's brought to figure out who he truly is. (A Resident Evil Village fusion)

AO3

Author's Note: Probably my most insane fanfic project yet. After I successfully probed SOMEONE, aka @spencer-is-someone, into watching a Resident Evil Village gameplay, they fell in love with Ethan Winters but felt he went through too much in the game, prompting the idea "What if Loid went through all that stuff instead". And well, 32 thousand words later, here I am, inflicting this literal horror upon y'all.

I made a post about it, and the absolutely wonderful @buf309 went and made this amazing cover art, and I literally couldn't be more thankful for that. I was so amazed when I saw the first draft sketch that I went like I'M GONNA WAIT TILL IT'S READY TO POST THE FIC. Seriously, words cannot describe how grateful I am, I sincerely hope the fic feels satisfying enough for the work you've done <3

If you know how the Resident Evil Village story goes, this is pretty much the same... yes, in all of its "parts-in-jars" glory (if you know you know, if you don't you will soon), just with Twilight taking the place of Ethan Winters. There will be a few changes from the original story to fit Twilight's character, some to facilitate the adaptation from game narrative to fanfic narrative, some to fit my own tastes, and an actually hopeful ending because we were all left heartbroken after the ending of RE Village so might as well pour some healing juice to put our hearts back together same way Ethan puts his limbs back together and hope for the best.

Do take note of the warnings, please. There is one part of the story I actually had chills while writing (yes, that part for those of you who know, it will be slightly changed but the essence will be the same) and it is based on the story of a horror/survival game, so make sure you're okay to read something as intense as this.

The story is written in full, though I'm still doing small bits of editing here and there. I don't have a posting schedule, but I'm thinking of updating twice a week, or once if I see the editing is taking longer. Chapter titles are taken from track titles of the game's original soundtrack.

So yeah, long intro over, take not of the warnings, I hope you enjoy if you read on!

Chapter 1: Bloodthirsty

“Anya, don’t sit so close to the TV,” Loid said, not looking up from the counter.

Unsurprisingly, there was no response. He wouldn’t doubt that she hadn’t even heard him, let alone acknowledged his request.

He picked up a handful of minced meat to mould into a burger steak, deciding to give her another reminder in two minutes from now. Yor had just left to walk Bond, so it was only his direction she had to follow – and she was starting to make clear whose directions she preferred to follow nowadays.

He placed the burger on the pan as his body tensed. A split second later, the door burst open.

He jumped through the opening between the kitchen and the living room, but even that seemed a pointless blessing as thick smoke quickly covered the apartment.

He rushed through it to grab Anya, who trembled against him, but he didn’t have the time to move away from the shots.

Two silenced shots, piercing through his clothes and reaching into the skin of his back.

No blood. But they were pinching his skin, and he immediately felt groggy…

He dropped to his side, unable to move as figures approached him. One of them took Anya.

“PAPA!” she screamed at him.

He feebly raised his hand. “Wait,” was the only thing he could say, before his hand dropped.

More figures approached him, and then his vision went dark.

Focus, Twilight.

Don’t open your eyes yet. Don’t alert the enemy yet.

He held his breath for a moment.

He was somewhere cold, outside.

He could feel something soft but freezing underneath him. Snow?

His hair didn’t feel wet, so he mustn’t have been lying there long.

It was quiet. He could only hear distant sounds of wind and crows flying somewhere close.

He couldn’t feel anyone’s presence, so he decided to open one single eye to check.

But then both his eyes shot wide open.

In front of him stood a magnificent gothic mansion. It could be a mansion, or it could be a damn castle. It was surrounded by a thick wall, like a fortress.

He sat up. He was indeed lying on the snow, but it was the least of his concerns right now.

He had apparently been placed on the castle’s garden. Right in the middle of the winter, it was only decorated by a few naked trees as well as three scarecrows.

Those didn’t seem to do their job well enough, he thought, as crows still flew around, some even sitting on them.

He got up, checking himself for injuries. He couldn’t feel any pain or any indication of pierced skin. How had they drugged him?

It was then he realized he was now wearing his jacket.

Had they dressed him for the cold? While taking off his apron and the gloves he wore while preparing food?

What the hell?

Where even was this place?

Why was he brought here?

Where was Anya?

His attention was drawn back to the apparently useless scarecrows, and a chill ran down his spine – unrelated to the cold – when he noticed something eerie about them.

Carefully, he took a few steps towards them.

His breath caught in his throat when he was close enough to notice.

Those weren’t plain scarecrows.

Those were actual, human bodies hanging on wooden crosses.

His breath finally came out shaky, forming a cloud.

What the hell was this place?

Unable to quell his curiosity, he stepped closer, trying to notice for any details on the bodies, in case he recognized them.

All three seemed to be men, of ages between thirty and fifty, and they couldn’t have been dead for longer than a week or so. The cold might have preserved their bodies, but exposure to the outside would do as much more damage.

He couldn’t recognize any of their faces – or what was left of them.

Well, he didn’t even know where he was, how far away from Berlint or even in Ostania for that matter.

He clenched his hands into fists and turned around, looking around the walls surrounding the castle.

There was a huge metal door blocking the path outside. No climbing the wall; it was too smooth and covered in even more slippery ice. Climbing the trees wouldn’t give him enough height to swing himself out.

Which meant, his only way of getting answers was through the castle.

He must have been placed there for a reason, after all, and if they’d wanted to kill him they would have already done so.

He reached the entrance, and the door swung open easily.

The entrance hall was as luxuriously decorated as the outside hinted at. A lush burgundy carpet went up the few steps, leading to a wall where a painting of three young women hung.

The door closed behind him, and he didn’t miss the definitive clang as metal bars started descending right in front of it.

He turned, and for a few seconds he weighed his options.

He could break the door quickly enough before the bars descended too low, and slip outside.

But then again, they obviously wanted him in there, and again, it didn’t seem that killing him was their priority.

He faced forward, ignoring the sound of the bars trapping him in there.

He might as well play their game.

He walked to the painting. Underneath it was an inscription that wrote “Bela, Daniela, and Cassandra.”

Which one was which?

The women on the painting didn’t seem too different from each other. The painting itself didn’t seem all too enlightening, either; it looked like any common Romantic-style oil painting.

Well, it wasn’t going to give him any answers, would it?

He turned around, walking down a corridor and out into another, larger hall. He noticed how warm the whole building was, despite the freezing weather outside and the apparently old construction of the place.

This hall had hanging, lit candles all over the walls, though they couldn’t be the source of the heating. The lighting was low, but lucky for him, he’d been trained enough in low lighting for that not to be an issue.

He jerked back at the sound of a swarm of flies coming his way, then he sensed someone’s presence.

Flies, he could handle.

But then the flies started gathering together, and within seconds they morphed into three women, dressed in black hooded cloaks.

“Wha—?” he whispered.

“Looking for Anya?” a voice said, and he assumed it’d come from one of the women. Who had just formed from flies.

The absurdity of his situation almost made him forget that she had just mentioned Anya.

Which meant they probably knew where she was.

However, he was too shocked by the sight that he couldn’t move when one of the women, all of whom were cackling, approached him and pushed him backwards.

She swung the scythe she held in her hand, and he pulled his legs away just before she could bury it in his calf.

“Oh, he’s feisty!” the woman said with a wide smile.

Her arm then almost zapped through the air, and his left leg was exploding in pain before he could even register the movement.

He yelped in pain as she leaned closer to him and took a long sniff.

Her mouth and jaw were covered in blood, though her blond hair looked pristine clean.

“Mmm, man-blood,” she said.

She then leaned back and started dragging him, by the scythe embedded in his leg, as he still lay helplessly on the ground.

She was too fast. He flailed around, trying to grab at anything they passed by to make her stop, even though that would mean the scythe would rip his entire leg open, but then another woman reached his other side and buried her scythe in his right leg.

He threw his head back, biting down another yell of pain.

Could he just have one moment?!

The women dragged him down another corridor and into what he quickly realized was a bedroom. They removed their scythes, and he quickly reached to assess the damage, when he heard the blond woman say “Mother, I bring you fresh prey,” as she pointed at him with her hand.

“You are so kind to me, daughters,” came a voice of a woman who sounded older than them.

Older, and bigger.

She was sitting on a massive chair, holding an equally massive glass of red wine. She took a sip from it, then stood up and turned to him, saying, “Now, lets take a look at him.”

He raised his head to look at her.

And then raised it higher.

She had the build of a muscular woman, with curves proportionate to her height, which must have been about three meters tall. She wore a black wide-brimmed hat over her chin-length black hair, and a long white dress that reached down to her feet, though she moved comfortably in it.

“Well, well. Loid Forger,” she said. “Came looking for your daughter, I presume?”

He sat there, frozen.

They knew who he was – or at least pretended to be? And they knew Anya was also taken?

She walked closer to him, smiling as she put her hands on her hips. “For you to think you can waltz right in here—let’s see how special you are,” she nearly purred.

She threw her hands up in a sign for something, and two of the younger women said “Yes, mother,” as they grabbed his arms and pulled him up.

His first thought was that he was standing up surprisingly well for just having had two scythes ran through his legs.

His second thought was terror as one woman grabbed his hand, and the other produced a very sharp-looking knife.

Before he could jerk back, she sliced his palm open.

He bit back a grunt; it wasn’t a deep cut, but it would be annoying…

His last thought trailed off as the tall woman reached down, grabbed his hand, brought it to her lips… and started sucking.

Now he really was frozen in terror.

What the hell was this nightmare?

The woman pulled her head back, licking at her lips with a blood-soaked tongue.

She threw his hand away. “Hmm,” she said. “Still fresh, but only barely.”

He wrapped his hand into a fist, keeping it close to his chest.

“Then let’s devour his man-flesh quickly, mother!” one of the women said, handing a handkerchief to her.

“But I’m the one who captured him!” the blond woman protested.

“Now, now, daughters,” the tall woman said, patting at her lips with the handkerchief. “First, I must inform Mother Miranda. But later, well, there will be enough for everyone.” She threw the handkerchief aside, smiling down at him. “Put him up!”

The young women surrounded him, and though he struggled, they were too strong for him as they put heavy manacles on his wrists.

A thick build, but he could break out of them with little effort.

But then, they secured a chain to them, and the chain started going up. He was lifted off his feet, and started grunting as the full force of his weight fell on his wrists.

Don’t say anything. Don’t let them take a hold of any weaknesses.

He clenched his jaw, keeping his voice from making any sounds as they headed out of the room. The tall woman had to bend to get through that door, and one of the young women – the second one who had stabbed his leg – bent down and picked up the discarded handkerchief, smelling the blood on it and laughing, as she followed them.

Breathing hard, he looked up at the manacles.

The pain was intense but manageable, though he already felt the tingling of numbness in his fingers. By his calculations, he had about fifteen or so minutes before cut blood circulation would start causing permanent damage.

Escape, first. Then you can freak out.

He grabbed the chain and dragged his body up. Though his legs were still bleeding, he brought them up so he could hold the chain between his feet.

He was gasping by the time he managed that, but at least he had less pain on his hands and a better view of the manacles.

They were old and rusty, but seemed to have a fairly standard locking mechanism. Bringing his body closer, he fished the lockpick out from a hidden pocket of his jacket.

Biting his lip, he worked through the lock of the right manacle. Just as it opened, his feet slipped from the chain and dropped down, causing all of his weight to drop onto his injured left hand.

The pain knocked the air out of his lungs.

Think! Think! Pull yourself together!

Taking in a laboured breath, he looked back up.

The lockpick had slipped from his hand and was now too far down for him to get it. His right hand was free, but he didn’t have any other options left.

Reaching up, he wrapped his free hand around his left thumb, and with a sharp pull, he dislocated it.

As his other hand was coated in blood from the cut, his wrist slipped through the manacle as soon as his thumb wasn’t in the way.

He dropped to the ground clumsily, not managing to balance his landing.

Wheezing, he looked at his left hand.

Bleeding, and a dislocated thumb.

He gave himself ten seconds.

Ten seconds to wonder where the hell he had gotten himself into, what that tall woman even was, standing at three meters tall and drinking blood, and what her “daughters” were, emerging from flies and also participating in… blood drinking? Cannibalism?

Ten seconds, and he was back to himself.

Focus, Twilight.

He looked at his legs – they were still bleeding, but he felt confident he could stand on them. Though those scythes looked sharp, they must have split a tendon or two apart.

At the corner of the room stood a vanity table, and on top of it, along with various cosmetics, lay a small green bottle with a cross on the label.

He stood up carefully, glad that his legs weren’t trembling. He picked up the bottle, carefully reading the label.

Medical alcohol.

Not one to trust this place that much, he opened the lid, and sure enough, it smelled like ethyl alcohol.

He sat down with a grunt, pulling his right trouser up. He didn’t have any clean gauze, so his only option was to pour liquid right over the wound.

He braced himself for the sting of pain, but instead, the liquid brought a cool, numbing sensation.

And then, right in front of his eyes, his wound closed then disappeared completely.

He stared at it.

Ten more seconds.

What the hell.

He looked at the bottle again. Medical alcohol, it said. It smelled like it too.

He looked back at his leg, raising his other trouser where the other wound still stood.

What the hell?!

Uncertain, he poured a little less liquid over that wound.

The wound immediately stopped bleeding as new skin seemed to form, though it didn’t heal completely.

He let out a breath. If he were honest with himself, this wasn’t really the weirdest thing to happen in the last few minutes, was it?

He turned to his mangled hand. Just how much could that liquid heal?

He poured an equal dosage to it, and was still surprised to see his thumb painlessly slide into its place, as well as the cut close completely.

Well, at least it could be useful.

He didn’t have time to worry over the supernatural. He had to get out of there, and find out where Anya was.

He took the path of unlocked doors, as he didn’t want to waste time and noise trying to break the lock of every locked door he found. Breaking the windows wouldn’t lead him anywhere – each one was sealed shut, and though he wasn’t averse to turning into a hooligan for the sake of escaping, the entire castle seemed to be surrounded by that wall.

He needed to get to a higher floor, but the safest and most silent path led him to the basement, where he found himself walking along piles and piles of dead bodies.

He had to hold his breath as he passed them by; apparently the occupants of the castle had the habit of feasting on the blood of humans, and did it so often that the amount of bodies was too big to act as decoration for their garden.

It was all men, however. As young as twenty-three, from what he could gather with a quick look.

The fly-women seemed to be confident enough in their hunting that they didn’t take away the handgun from one of the more fresh bodies. Twilight couldn’t tell if that was a police officer, a soldier, or a man aware of what he’d been dealing with, but it didn’t matter to him. He undid the holster, as gently as he could out of respect of the deceased man, and he put it on under his jacket.

He checked the magazine. Ten bullets out of sixteen.

He looked at the man. Had he shot those first six bullets right before he was killed?

The man had a shoulder bag on him, and inside was a box of bullets, a total of forty. He slid that too over his own shoulder.

He kept the safety on the gun on, but held it in his hand. He picked up a hunting knife from one of the other bodies and walked on.

As the bodies thinned out, he found a lone skeletal figure draped in a plain canvas cloak. The limbs stood out, bare, emaciated, and rotting. While other bodies were in a similar state of decomposition, they were fully clothed, at most with a few rips in their clothes. This one was the only one so bare.

And it was holding a scythe in its hand, old and rusty in comparison to the women’s scythes, but still sharp enough to do harm.

He approached it carefully, keeping both hands on the gun.

He thanked his training for that, as the figure moved when he passed right by it.

He yelped in shock, moving away from it and raising his gun at it.

“Stop!” he said. “Don’t move!”

The creature, whatever that was, didn’t seem like it listened let alone register his words. It stood up, hunched over, then lunged at him with the scythe.

Not finding any alternatives, he shot right at its head.

The creature jerked back as a screech left its mouth.

Twilight held his breath.

His blood froze when he saw it still stand on its legs and try to swing at him again.

He shot again. He was perfectly certain the bullet got through its head.

Yet the creature moved again.

And he shot again.

Only now did the creature finally drop to its knees, but it was still screeching and growling.

Desperate, Twilight took the knife and drove it through the creature’s skull, three times, until he felt it stop moving.

It collapsed on the floor.

Hell knew if it would rise again. It was supposed to be dead already, wasn’t it?

He turned around and ran.

There were more creatures on the way. Some he slashed at with the knife, some he shot at, some he simply ran away from. A few managed to nick him with their scythes, and if he were honest, he was more worried about infections than the injuries themselves.

As he found a quiet corner, he pulled out the alcohol – or whatever that was. It seemed to work on the nicks too, making them close quickly and painlessly.

He supported himself on the wall, forcing his breath to calm down.

He had to get out. Now.

Holding the gun tight to his hand, he moved to leave, but then a buzzing and a voice sounded from behind him.

“Hmm. Warm, bright, red blood.”

He didn’t turn to look at her. He knew it was the blond woman.

He made a run for it as flies swarmed around him, until he found a staircase going up, reaching into what looked like a kitchen area.

“Where are you going, little one?”

The woman appeared right in front of him, cutting off his path. She was smiling at him, surrounded by flies, her face still stained with blood.

“I just want to find Anya,” he managed.

“Aw,” she said. She then pushed him back and he fell on the ground. She lay over him, reaching at his neck and biting.

Yelling, he took the gun and fired twice at her stomach.

She reached up, laughing as fresh blood ran from her lips.

He shot at her head.

“Your bullets cannot harm m—”

Her voice cut off when another of his shots passed through her and hit the window behind her.

The glass cracked, and it quickly shattered as a cold gust of wind blew into the room.

The gust threw the woman’s hood off her head. Twilight tightened his hold on the gun when he spotted a massive, fleshy scar on her temple, a bald spot from her long hair.

The woman shrieked, then growled. Her skin, already pale as it was, seemed to start cracking and turn grey. She looked at her hands, still gasping in pain, and then turned to him, yelling, “You stupid man-thing!”

His mind finally picked up the pace. The cold made her weak?

He stood up, raising his gun at her.

“How dare you bare your teeth at us!” she shouted, then lunged at him with her scythe.

He managed to block her attack, pushing her back, and he shot at her face.

She groaned, still standing, but she said, “What? My body—it’s breaking…”

He kept his gun up. “Just let me go,” he said.

A wild rumble came from her mouth as she turned to attack him again. She reached him, and he could only block her at the last moment, his arms taking the full blow of her scythe. “Give up!” she said, reaching back for another swing of her weapon.

He shot twice at her head, and she yelled again.

The flies seemed to drop in numbers, and her skin cracked more and more. He barely managed to avoid two more of her attacks, and then she fell on him, ready to bite his head off, he supposed in the split second it took him to kick her off of him.

He shot two more times.

“This can’t be,” she said, weakly now, her body swaying.

“Let me go!” he repeated, taking two steps back.

She screamed and reached back with her scythe, and he shot again.

And then a sizzling sound came from her body, as she started swinging wildly, not reaching anything. She groaned and groaned, and her body transformed.

It seemed to calcify into gravel, as she slowly stopped moving, her hand still up in a pose of attack.

And then it broke down.

Whatever it was, it cracked into small pieces, and what started as the form of a woman was now a pile of something on the ground.

Breathing hard, he leaned his back on the wall behind him and slid down to the floor.

His hands were trembling, his feet felt like water.

What the hell was all that?

Were was he?

Why was he brought here?

And where was Anya?

What were those creatures…?

He closed his eyes. Ten seconds. Just ten seconds to freak out.

He just had to get out. Find Anya and…

He opened his eyes, his throat tensing.

Did he really have to find her?

As far as he was concerned, right now she was a liability to him. He had to prioritize his safety first.

It wasn’t like there were piles of bodies of dead girls around, was it?

Letting out a deep sigh, he stood back up. The woman had managed to hurt him a little, but the healing liquid was in short supply and he could handle those injuries up to a point.

The woman. Who was now a pile of ash.

Calm down, Twilight. Get yourself in order and find a way out.

The castle proved massive, and he couldn’t find any viable exit paths even as he seemed to reach what looked like hallways reaching into bedrooms.

Then, a mournful scream sounded from a floor below.

“What have you done to my daughter?!”

His blood chilled. If the “daughter” had been that vicious, he didn’t want to face whatever her mother had in store for him.

#piracytheorist writes #Spy x Family #sxf ff #sxf fanfiction #ilaid #lmao that's a funny acronym #I SHOULDN'T BE POSTING SO LATE BUT I'M ACTUALLY A LITTLE EXCITED LOL

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mayordea · 2 years ago

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Happy birthday to the number one princess in the world!! 💖

~from her biggest fans :)

ramble of my scattered thoughts on the piece under cut as usual cuz i love talking 😋

This has been an idea I've been cookin for a while, and it was so cluttered and unlike any other ensemble piece I've made... and I decided I oughta do it anyway. I love Miku, I love Vocaloid, and I wanted to do something really ambitious and crazy for her anniversary. Crazy that she's turning her "canon" age this year TwT

I had the idea floating around since like, May...? And then finally started acting on it around June 18. I'm terrible with deadlines, obvious with how I can never make a silly birthday post in time, so I started wayyyy ahead to make sure I have some room to be lazy lol, especially with an idea as ambitious as this.

This was finished on July 12! So I had to sit on this for an annoying amount of time. Very difficult for someone like me who just wants to talk about everything I'm working on to the masses. But at the very least, that gave me the time to work on the draft for this post.

~~~

Here's some ~behind the scenes~ scribbles leading up to the finished piece!

Left is the chicken scratch plan i made in my handy dandy notebook (whenever things are getting real and ambitious, i always made a rough ROUGH plan in there. Usually I'd do a rough pass of the full thing, but this was too complicated for me to do traditionally. I majorly benefited from digital tools to make this possible). CyberDiva and CyberSongman were considered, but I ended up cutting them cuz I just didn't feel like drawing them sorry-- (just pretend they're off to the side. They gave Ruby and Clara the pizza lol). Right is the "final" completed sketch (before I decided to include Chika mid-way through coloring and VY1 and VY2 near the finish line). I started by drawing the main "groups" separated on a different canvas so I can plop them into the main canvas for easy rearranging and transforming. However I got lazy and ended up drawing everyone in the bottom right corner directly on the canvas since I liked seeing the big picture of everyone's positions. Y'know.

Almost excluded Chika! But I like her design so much that I just felt like including her last-minute. You win this time, Chika fans. VY1 and VY2 were very close to being cut! I added them when I began doing the banner and thought "eh why not". I figured their non-human designs would be pretty easy to include pushed back in the bg. Ik VY1 is more commonly associated with the fan design, but I referenced the hairpin cuz it was simpler and the fan looked very annoying to draw 😭

Sorry to the fans of many Vocaloids I had to cut because this composition was insane enough as is. I promise I wanted to include fellas like CUL, LUMi and Sachiko 😭 I will admit I was a little biased on who I wanted to include over others. Like, I don't normally care for Bruno and Clara, but I wanted to get some more international 'loids in the mix. Also wanted to stick in the realm of official designs and not fan-designs since, as much as I can appreciate those, are just a whole "wait who is that guy supposed to be" situation I didn't wanna deal with. I also did wanna include even more character references through the balloons, but they ended up being kind of ugly and overcomplicated the BG :,) (Oh, and while this was originally planned to be a Vocaloid-only piece, I did end up including Teto, Neru, and Haku 'cuz those are Miku's besties dude!!! They may not be Officially in the club but they're her girls and it would be criminal to not invite them to her birthday).

Anyway, this project marks the first time I've drawn a lot of Vocaloids. Lily, Piko, Rana, Yuki, Yukari, Miki, Maika, and many more lol. All of 'em I've heard or seen in passing, but now I actually drew them, and some have really cool and fun designs!! I got into a habit of drawing Merli after this since I just love her design for example. And I'll probably be drawing more lol!!

Oh and the last thing I'll add for now!! The cake is indeed made up of various song references!! I wanted to reference the "big four" producers, just absolute icons in Vocaloid history. The pink/black checkerboard is "World is Mine" (Ryo), the crescents on the side is "Rolling Girl" (Wowaka), the smiley faces is "Matryoshka" (Hachi), and the three hearts on the side is "The Vampire" (DECO*27, which is sort of a symbol of his whole Mannequin album tbh). I know "The Vampire" is a bit modern but I couldn't think of anything else off the top of my head. I'm a fake DECO fan I know 😔 "Matryoshka" was originally going to be referenced in the colors of the candles but believe me it looked like shit so I just went for something else last minute 😭

That's all I have to say!!! Hope you didn't mind the text wall if you made it here. I hope you like it as much as I do!!!! Happy freakin' birthday Miku!!!!

I have to deal with tagging all these characters now for my page,,, in the drafts my tags got cut off after a certain point so I think I'm massively breaching the tag limit 😭 um... I'll figure that out later...

not losing sleep that i can't tag everyone, even for page organization purposes because some characters have pretty generic names and some are a little hard to see in full yknow. If you're one of those people who tag every character in the art piece you reblog... I am very sorry.

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httpknjoon · 5 months ago

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suspects guilty | ksj

plot | the a-listers join in a tiktok trend (ft. more the a-listers lores).

word count | 1131

genres | humor, fluff, domestic au

pairing | actor!jin x famous!reader

main masterlist | the a-listers: confidential masterlist

Shot in the spacious backyard of their Massachusetts home, YN and Jin finally shoot their very first TikTok video. Of course, it was YN who asked the other to do it since she found the videos she watched hilarious. So, some time between breakfast and afternoon, the couple walked out to their quiet backyard to do it. All while their twins have their nap.

"So, I'll describe you with something mean and you'll do the same thing?" Jin asked, stretching his right arm over his chest.

You nod, "Yeah, we'll basically roast each other. But we'll start with the phrase: The suspect is. You know, like when cops look for their suspects."

"Okay, bub. I'm ready," he replied, this time, rolling his shoulders.

Your eyebrow raised while watching him warm up his body. A routine he usually does before working out.

"Why are you acting like you're about to run a marathon?" you scoffed.

The first one to be shown in the camera is Jin, in his favorite green hoodie, running while your voice can be heard in the background.

"Suspect claims to be a responsible drinker but posted his personal cellphone number online when he was drunk." Giggles were in between your words when you said that.

Jin stopped, "That was years ago! It was one time."

You laughed as he defended himself, remembering the time you witnessed Jin's manager stressed out the morning after Jin shared his phone number through Instagram Stories while Jin was guiltily nursing his hangover. It was around the time you two were doing press junkets for your second movie.

"Suspect had a very public crush over a co-worker when she was fourteen."

Jin grinned as you stopped from jogging. Your jaw dropped while the cringy memories of your past came running back to you.

"Oh my god! Stop bringing that up. It's embarrassing."

Everyone knew that you loved musicals, especially the movie Hairspray with Zac Efron in it. So when you were younger, you were never shy about expressing your adoration for the actor, mentioning him in interviews in teen magazines and television talk shows a handful of times. He was kind enough to surprise you one time during your appearance in Ellen. You were telling a behind-the-scenes story to the host and audience when Zac quietly walked behind you and sat next to you. Everyone laughed at your flushed reaction when you realized who was sitting beside you. Your hands were even shaking when he introduced himself to you. Up until now, you still see GIFs and memes of your reaction online being used in various contexts.

Before moving to the next clip, your husband was heard whispering under his breath, "It's cute."

"Suspect thinks he is slick every time he's shy. His red ears always give it away!"

Jin stopped and laughed at that, so hard that his hands are on his knees. You didn't stop, zooming the camera to his ears that are slowly turning crimson red.

"See! See!"

"Suspect claims to be a writer but has three thousand unfinished drafts in her computer!"

You stopped in your tracks and slowly looked back at the camera. Staring, you crossed your arms while acting really offended by that. Jin laughed at your dramatic reaction.

"That was personal, Jinnie! How could you say that?" you shook your head, feigning disappointment. "Writer's block is a worldwide issue. You know, five out of five writers get affected by it. It's a real problem."

"Suspect acts so innocent but likes to be called---"

"No! No! No!"

Jin stopped you before you could even finish your sentence. His tone seemed panicked. The camera was later focused on the ground while you two were heard whispering.

"We cannot share that online, bubba. It would generate articles."

"It's not like it's a bad kin---"

It was cut off to the next clip.

"Suspect called me the wrong name during our first and second date."

This time, it's your turn to laugh so hard that you fall on your knees on the grass. Jin was also laughing after mentioning that time.

"It was two different names!" he added, making you laugh even more.

To be fair, the names were his characters' names in two different projects he worked on. One is for his Netflix series and the other was his character's name in your second movie together. It was an honest mistake by you since you were really tired at both times it happened. Jin too. You two would just sneak in your first few dates in between your tight schedules.

"The suspect cannot tell his children apart."

Your husband was clearly taken aback by that, maybe dramatically offended. Knowing it was true, he didn't even deny it.

"That was only a few times--"

"Specifically, nine times!" you counted, trying not to laugh.

His eyebrows raised as he crossed his arms, "It was those days when they wore the same matching clothes."

"One is a boy and a girl, Jin," you told him, reminding him that your twins wear different colors of the same type of clothes.

"They are identical twins, bubba. You know that I have bad facial recognition!" he whined like a kid while you laughed.

"Suspect ghosted everyone for almost two years."

Although you stopped jogging, you just put your wrists together like you are surrendering, willing to be handcuffed. You walked back to him as you spoke,

"The suspect is guilty. She said she regrets nothing over it. She is happy with the choices she made."

Jin smiled upon hearing that. He remembered you two talking about your plans to have a hiatus in the middle of your piling projects. It was after you learned you were pregnant. As soon as you made sure that you indeed were, you immediately thought about taking a break since you already had your priorities straight. It was not just a decision you made in the spur of the moment. It was something you promised to do before you even met Jin.

As someone who grew up in a complicated family, you wanted different things when starting your own. You were willing to literally drop everything, leaving movie projects that you were dreaming of working on.

Jin wanted to do the same thing, so he could be with you. But you encouraged him to just finish his remaining commitments at the time. He was in a more tangled situation since he already started filming for those projects and couldn't afford to stress everyone with a sudden leave.

"Oh, bubba. I love you." he whispered.

He was about to lean in to give you a kiss. But you spoke,

"I love you too, si--"

"No!"

You laughed as he walked back to your house, enjoying his flushed reaction over your jokes.

note | unedited. not a comeback. this is just a random blurb in my head. sadly, I haven't written anything for months now. i feel bad leaving a lot of my works here on a cliffhanger but idk when will I update again. but thank u so much for reading and being here :)) hope ur having a great day.

THE A-LISTERS: CONFIDENTIAL TAGLIST

@xiumo @joonsbvtch @firesighgirl @qualityjoonie @lojocas @txtlyn @yoontaethings @zwiehe

PERMANENT TAGLIST

@dunixxd @cixrosie @jksjx @embrace-themagic @buttvi @starbtslove @missseoulite @vanntaesworld @kenqki @imajinthis @stopeatread @seolaquotes @greyrain23 @chimchimmarie @petalsofink @jayhope88 @moonchild1 @laylasbunbunny @nikkiordonez12 @misshale21

#actor!jin #bts jin #jin fluff #jin x reader #jin fic #jin au #seokjin x reader #seokjin fanfiction #seokjin fluff #bts fluff #bts x reader #bts imagine #bts crack #bts series #bts au #bts fanfic #bts drabble #the a listers ksj

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calmcoldevening · 2 years ago

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Pov: You knew slashers, when you was a child (Slashers x fem!reader)

I'm back! Well, it os a lazy post from my drafts, until I end my new idea <3

TW: no

Characters: Thomas Hewitt, Brahms Heelshire, brothers Sinclair

P.S.: English is not my native language, so lot of these words was translated by simple translator, sorry for misspells and e.t.c.

Enjoy this!

Thomas Hewitt

The transition to a new school has always been a great stress for a child, especially in the middle of the school year.

You and your parents often moved from city to city. Maybe it was their work, or maybe they just wanted to show you as many different places as possible so that your childhood would remain really memorable — you didn't know. But the constant moving was followed by a change of schools and kindergartens. On the one hand, you liked it — new acquaintances, interests and a lot of positive emotions, after all, you were a cheerful and active child — but it also brought its inconveniences — you didn't have "best" friends, you had no more than a couple of months to communicate with each of them, and multiple the change of the team has made you a real chameleon in society.

You were ten years old when you and your parents moved to Texas. The age when most classes have already been divided into peculiar interest groups, which are quite difficult for a new person to join. That's why your mom decided to bake cookies that you could distribute to new classmates. Who doesn't like homemade cakes? You actively participated in the cooking process. A little more practice, and you could learn these cookies on your own. As soon as the treat was ready — several pieces were successfully taken away by your father — your mother beautifully put it in a colored box, now tied with a ribbon. The inscription "Welcome" was painted on the lid in gold paint.

It was very hot in this area of Texas. Therefore, on your first day of school, you decided to limit yourself to a beautiful white T-shirt with some simple pattern and black shorts. The first impression is the most important, right? Your mom took you to school by car. At the reception desk, your mom introduced you and found out the number of the right office. After kissing you goodbye on the cheek, she left you to your own luck. Although you were already used to it, a nervous feeling of anticipation bubbled somewhere in your chest; your palms were sweating.

After a good seven minutes, you were standing in front of the right class, 212, clutching a box of cookies to your chest. Adjusting the strap of the gray backpack, you exhaled anyway.

Your homeroom teacher, Mrs. Sullivan, introduced you in the office. A lovely woman with curly locks hanging down on both sides of her face and freckled cheeks. Her soft figure, dressed in a white blouse and a black pencil skirt, caused a surge of strength and confidence in you. The woman lightly put her arm around your shoulders, so motherly, and asked you to tell about yourself.

"My name is Y/N Y/L," your voice trembled slightly while your gaze ran over the children sitting in the classroom, "I'm ten. I like animals and beading... Mm, my parents and I move around a lot, so I don't think I'll stay here for more than two months. I hope we'll become friends."

You ended your performance with a sincere warm smile. Mrs. Sullivan asked you to take an empty seat. Your choice fell on the farthest place by the window; a guy was sitting behind it, hunched over and staring at the street. Was he weird? No, rather unusual. He had long black hair, so unusual for a boy; his gaze was lowered somewhere on the dusty road near the school, so you couldn't see his eyes. Sitting down next to him, you quickly took out a notebook and pencil from your backpack.

"Hello?"

The boy seemed startled by your voice. He looked at you uncertainly, and you saw a face wrapped in bandages. Sad cornflower blue eyes peeked out from under the white cloth.

"I'm Y/N," you whisper, holding out your hand to the boy, "And what's your name?"

There was no response. Disappointed, you lowered your hand, now paying attention to the teacher's explanation. The woman was writing down her words on the blackboard, and you quickly began copying them into your notebook, clutching a pencil until it crackled.

There was something about this boy that attracted you. It doesn't matter if it was his shyness or isolation — you decided that you definitely want to make friends with him.

At recess, you approached a group of girls. They were dressed up like girls from fashion magazines that you often saw in kiosks by the road.

"Hi," — you said with a light smile.

"Well, hello," said one of the girls, popping a bubble of gum.

"I want to ask. M, that boy," you pointed to the long—haired boy, "What's his name? I asked, and he ignored me."

"Haha, he won't answer you. That's our little Tommy," another girl hissed sarcastically, giggling, "Thomas Hewitt is weird. Very strange. I heard that his father is his brother!"

"And he's also a terrible freak!"

You awkwardly put your hand in your hair. Thomas didn't look as disgusting as the girls described him. It's all rumors. And what to take from these children, they probably didn't even try to talk to Hewitt!

You didn't talk to this company anymore. After waiting for lunch, when all the children went out to the garden at the school, you again approached the boy. He didn't budge. It seems he hasn't even written anything since you sat down next to him.

"Hey, hello?" you waved your palm in front of the guy's face, "Thomas, right?"

This time the boy paid attention to you. There was no emotion visible under the thick layer of bandages, but you were sure that he arched an eyebrow questioningly. He's wondering how you know his name?

"You were sitting alone, so I came over. Your name is Thomas, right?" you repeated the question, finally the boy nodded, "That's wonderful! I'm Y/N, let's get acquainted."

Smiling happily, you hand the guy an open box of cookies. Golden crust with chocolate chips. You had no desire to share such a delicious thing with such terrible and tactless people. And Tommy. Tommy was different. He was timid and calm, unable to cause harm.

"Help yourself," you babble, sitting down next to Hewitt, "I made them myself! Not without my mommy's help, of course..."

You blush slightly and see Thomas's eyes narrow. He smiled! He seems to be starting to like your company.

"Can I call you Tommy?"

• Thomas has become noticeably happier since you met him. The boy began to spend more time outside the house, in your company (Luda was very surprised by this, because usually after school Tommy always came home and sat in his room).

• For your birthday, Thomas himself sewed a soft toy for you, a fox, as he found out later, this is one of your favorite animals. The toy was sewn from different, but matching pieces of fabric, a little sloppy, but quite skillfully. It made you smile. You threw your arms around Hewitt for joy.

• Once you praise him, Tommy immediately blushes a lot. It's good that it's not visible under the layer of bandages. From the moment you became friends, Thomas's self-esteem has risen a little.

• When you first offered to help Thomas change the bandages, he strongly refused. The boy just couldn't let you see his face. But when he finally gave up, Hewitt was pleasantly surprised that you didn't scream and run away. You didn't call Tommy a freak or a monster, but only sympathetically stroked his scarred cheeks.

• Over time, you began to understand Thomas without words, absolutely. You found the right answers in his movements, grunting, awkward head turning or excessive gesticulation. Even Luda was a little amazed at your nonverbal communication, but the woman was glad that her son finally found a real friend.

• Tommy often showed you his drawings. It was like the scribble of a five-year-old child, but you were always happy to accept the leaves and hang them over your bed. Basically, Thomas drew his family: angry Charlie in the corner of the paper, Monty sitting next to him in a chair, a little further away, Luda was cooking, and in the center of the drawing you and Thomas holding hands and smiling.

• It was the first time you begged your parents to stay in this city longer. Fortunately, they agreed after seeing your enthusiasm for the "strange boy".

Brahms Heelshire

• Your parents and the Healers kept in touch for a while, you can say your families were very close. You first met Brahms on his fifth birthday. He was a very well-mannered but private boy, so Mrs. Heelshire was only too happy to introduce you.

• At first, your communication did not work out. Brahms was a rude child in places, took away your toys and teased you.

• His true attitude towards you showed up when you didn't come to his house, although you were visiting the Heelshire family every Monday and Wednesday. He was seriously worried. All morning Brahms sat in his room by the window and looked at the road going through the forest, waiting for your little body in your favorite blue dress to appear from behind the trees. But you were never there. It turned out that you were just sick. That day Brahms went to your house and did not leave your bed, squeezing your hot palm.

• Your parents worked most of the time, so they were not against your games with Heelshire Jr. You stayed in their house more and more often, sometimes even overnight, and you and Brahms made noise all night, forcing his mother to swear. But still, the woman was glad that at least Brahms was behaving quite comfortably and boldly with someone.

• You were only a couple of months younger than Brahms, but you thought it was a good reason to tease you.

• The boy allowed you to enter his room without knocking, consider it a worthwhile privilege, because Heelshire does not let everyone into his personal space.

• When you were sad, Brahms brought you bouquets of flowers hastily made with his own hands. That's why his palms were green most of the time.

• Brahms makes wonderful sandwiches. He often makes them when the two of you are having a "picnic" in the garden. Although in fact he agrees to it only to admire you.

• Heelshire loves sweets very much. Very. His mom doesn't allow the boy a lot of sweets and cakes, so you secretly bring them to him from home. The boy is insanely happy.

• Brahms loves kissing. This habit, or rather the need, appeared in him because you praised the boy in this way. Has he finally cleaned the room? A kiss. Did he break his mom's precious vase during the catch-up today? A kiss! So now he can demand them for any reason. He especially likes it when you kiss him before going to bed, and Brahms falls asleep hugging you.

• You're his best friend. That's why Brahms trusts you with all his secrets. You are the only one to whom he has told about the strange and frightening thoughts that sometimes sound in his head.

"Good night," Mrs. Heelshire said, turning off the light and closing the door behind her.

You smile and blow her a kiss, covering your mouth with your palm. When the woman's footsteps recede, you exhale with relief, plopping down on the pillow with force. Squinting your eyes, you wrinkle your nose, trying to blow away the stuck strands of hair from your face. Brahms giggles and gently tucks your hair behind your ear.

The room is cool. The window is slightly ajar, letting in a light autumn wind. The curtains are swaying from side to side, taking chaotic frightening shadows.

You get under the covers up to your nose. Brahms follows your example, pressing his whole body against you, and you stroke his head.

"If I ever do something very, very bad, will you stay with me?" Heelshire whispers, looking up at you.

You look into his sad emerald eyes and laugh. He likes to put pressure on your pity, because he knows that at such moments you see him as a tiny abandoned kitten.

"I don't think you'd do anything so bad, Brahms."

"But if I do. What if everyone turns away from me. Even mom and dad. Will you stay with me?"

You pressed your lips together, frowning. Brahms had never asked such strange questions before. And how can a child who is only eight years old think about something like that after a while. Looking down at the ceiling, you turned your head, looking into Brahms' eyes.

"Yes. I'll stay."

"Honestly?" Heelshire asks incredulously.

"Honestly."

"Promise?"

"Yes, I promise you, silly boy!" you abruptly cover his face with a blanket, holding the edges on both sides of his head.

The boy was kicking, trying to get out from under your weight, while you tried not to laugh. Taking pity on his futile attempts, you took off the blankets, admiring Brahms' flushed face. Heelshire was breathing heavily, and his cheeks and nose were burning like Chinese lanterns that your parents launched on your birthday.

"I won. Again," you grin.

Brahms is silent. You sigh and lie down again, turning your back to Heelshire. Your eyes are shining with joy, and your lips continue to curve in a smug grin. You know that Brahms will not dare to do something to you in return. He always let you get away with such antics. Absolutely always.

When you are ready to fall asleep, through the chatter in your head you hear a plaintive whisper. Having opened your leaden eyelids, you groan with displeasure.

"Kiss me," Brahms whines, and you get up on your elbows, chuckling softly.

"Okay," you kiss Heelshire on the lips, "Good night, Brahms."

• "Now I've won," Brahms croaks, pressing you against the wall and spreading his hands on both sides of your head. Just like a child. Except now he's not the victim here, but you. Although was he ever a victim in your games? Rather, he always played the role of a presenter, you just didn't notice it, as if you were looking through your fingers. And who would have thought that that innocent little boy would ever stand in front of you, towering over your body by a good two heads, and grinning with eyes shining in anticipation through the black slits of the mask.

Sinclairs

Christmas is the most mysterious and magical holiday of the year; the day when the whole family gathers at one big table to properly celebrate this moment together; the day when you receive a lot of gifts from all kinds of relatives, which you sometimes did not realize; the day when all wishes come true.

You clumsily shuffled along the road, shaking your back every now and then to adjust the heavy backpack. Things inside rattled a lot, and you tried to straighten your back faster to avoid crumpled packages.

Christmas was your favorite holiday. And although your parents have been working constantly lately, you were glad that you could spend this family holiday with your friends.

You met not so long ago, only about four months ago, when you first moved here. Ambrose turned out to be a very nice and cozy city with friendly and caring people. Mrs. Sinclair, Trudy, and your mom became friends right away— their interests converged on art. That's when I met her sons, the woman suggested that you make friends with them because of their similar age. And it turned out to be a very good idea. The boys quickly became addicted to you.

Once again adjusting the canvas straps of the backpack, you quickly climb the steps requested by the snow and knock on the sand-colored door several times. On the other side, there is a fussy shuffling and dissatisfied grumbling.

"Hello," you say, smiling, when the door swings open in front of you, revealing a view of the timid Vincent.

The guy nods to you and opens the door wider, motioning you to enter. You kiss Sinclair on the cheek of the mask. Brushing off your feet at the threshold, you quickly take off your shoes and leave your backpack at the shoe shelf. Music from an old radio is coming from the kitchen, some station unknown to you is playing old songs from the seventies. As soon as you entered the room, Vincent stood at the stove again, frying something in a frying pan. Whenever Trudy was busy making figures and arranging a museum that she someday wanted to open, it was Vincent who did the cooking and other household duties. Bo was stubborn and didn't want to do "women's" work, and Lester was still too young for such a large-scale activity. The latter was now sitting at the table and skillfully sliced an apple with a hunting knife into neat pieces.

"Morning, Lester," passing by the boy, you leave a small kiss on his forehead.

"Hi, Y/N!" Sinclair winces contentedly, flapping his big copper eyes.

You sit down next to the boy and imperceptibly take a piece of apple from under his nose, throwing it into his mouth contentedly. There were already several plates and cutlery on the table. Vincent loved order, so he prepared everything in advance.

"Where's Bo?" you ask, rocking slightly in your chair, for which you get a menacing look from Vincent.

"Mom asked him to help at the museum," Lester replied, "He should be back soon."

You notice how Vincent turns off the stove and turns his whole body in your direction. The guy takes a notebook lying on the table and quickly scribbles something.

"Have you had breakfast?"

"Yes," you say shortly, when Vincent closes the notebook and puts it back, "Honestly."

Sinclair puts the hot omelette on plates and pushes you a bowl of oatmeal cookies. You happily take one piece. Vincent sits down across from Lester and lifts the mask just enough to see his mouth. You frown, noticing the edge of his deep scar.

"Hey everyone," it was heard from the threshold, when the front door slammed shut with force, "Oh, honey, and you're here," Bo walks past you, lightly touching your shoulder in greeting, and sits down next to Vincent.

During brunch, you watch Lester and Bo actively negotiate. When their plates are empty, you decide to step in.

"Since everyone is here," you babble happily, clapping your hands to attract the attention of the guys, "I want to give you gifts a little earlier than planned, do you mind?"

"Of course not," Bo abruptly pushed away from the table, "I'm all for it, babe."

Bo winked at you playfully, to which you rolled your eyes. Vincent signed something, and you looked at Lester. Your sign language was not yet good enough to understand most of the phrases, you barely remembered the words of politeness. That's why you've always relied on little Lester at times like this.

"He said: "Why are you doing this so early?"", Lester explained, innocently blinking his eyes.

"What's the difference," Bo frowned, "Sooner or later — the main thing is that she gave."

You didn't comment on the elder Sinclair's words, but just got up from the table and went to your backpack resting in the hallway. When you came back, the brothers were already sitting in a kind of semicircle on the floor. Bo sprawled impressively closer to the sofa and grinned in anticipation; Lester, in his usual manner, sat cross-legged; while Vincent tucked his knees to his chest.

You sat down between the twins and put the backpack next to you, unzipping it. You said "Close your eyes" and, as soon as the boys fulfilled your request, you began to take out colorful boxes. All packages had the same color, different sizes. Alternately, you put the gifts in front of them and allowed them to watch. Lester giggled when he saw that his box was the biggest.

"Merry Christmas," you drawled, spreading your arms out to the sides.

The very first gift was opened by Lester. The boy happily tore open the package, scattering the paper around him, and screamed when he saw the cherished surprise. A big stuffed fawn. He had a soft beige body and neat brown horns sticking out in different directions. The muzzle was cheerful, with a big nose and shiny button eyes.

"I knitted it especially for you," you babble, smiling, when Lester looks up at you with an enthusiastic look.

"Thank you!" the boy throws himself on your neck with lightning speed, squeezing your body until the bones crunch; you stroke his back.

Bo was a little surprised when he saw a set of tools under the wrapper. He loved tinkering and was well versed in mechanics; the fact that you remembered about this hobby touched the guy a little; his lips curved in a slight smile.

"Well, thanks, babe," Bo grins, patting your hair.

You're pouting a little. All the time spent in the morning combing this tangled nest has gone to waste. You are dissatisfied with blowing off a few strands that caught your eye.

The last person to open his gift was Vincent. The boy very tenderly unwrapped the package, not trying to tear it, as if stretching and savoring this moment. You watched the deft but careful movements of his fingers with burning impatience. Finally, Sinclair took off all the paper, removing it from the side, and looked down at what he saw. A large set with colored pencils. Exactly the one that the boy looked at with undisguised envy in the window of an art store about a month ago. Did you remember that? With slightly trembling hands, Vincent takes the box and turns it in his hands. There were several more drawing pads under it.

Vincent looks at you, and you see the trembling gaze of his azure eyes in the slits of the mask. Such unbelievers, but at the same time grateful. You crawl up to the boy and hug him tightly, nuzzling his neck. Vincent lets out a ragged sigh.

"Merry Christmas to you, boys," you congratulate them once again, seeing the boys' satisfied smiles.

"So why did you decide to give it to us so early?" Lester asked, clutching the toy to his chest.

"Oh, that," you awkwardly fix your hair, "Well, my parents decided to leave. To another state. We'll leave tonight. So I thought I could have some fun with you now."

There was an oppressive silence in the room. You were afraid to look up, but you could feel the disappointment on the boys' faces. Your heart was painfully squeezed in your chest, from which you gritted your teeth with a creak.

"Will you come back?" Bo broke the silence.

"I don't know. Dad was offered a job in another state. Mom just said I wouldn't be able to see you."

You looked at each of the boys in turn. Vincent's head drooped, Bo's brows furrowed, and Lester's lips tightened into a crooked thread. The elder Sinclair sighed heavily.

"We'll be waiting. All together," he looked at you from under his brows, "Just try not to come back to us."

• Vincent loves sweets; but, often, Bo takes most of the goodies. That's why you put an envelope with several edible bracelets in one of the donated notebooks. Bo will probably consider them girly and will not take them away from his brother.

• You have been knitting a fawn for Lester for about five days; the boy is very happy with your gift. Your relationship is like a brother and a scary sister. He is always ready to rely on you; Sinclair is glad that he has such a caring person, unlike the same brothers (in particular Bo).

• Trudy adores you. You could say that in these few months she began to perceive you as her own daughter. You even know where the spare keys to the back door of the house are.

• Bo always tries to impress you as a self-sufficient high school student. He saw his father's old magazines with tackles, seduction and other materials not for children, so he decided to train on you. He didn't notice how he fell in love.

• Vincent is a good cook.

• Most of Vinnie's drawings in the new notebooks are you. He will paint your portraits for many years after your leaving.

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