#i think i did something wrong when i made my character because i just kept failing white checks until | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

seungsluv · 2 months ago

Text

Left on Read

── .✦ content warning : SMUT! MDI!!! fem!reader; kinda angst; mild burnout; miscommunication; light argument; explicit sex;

✮⋆˙ pairing: idol seungmin × fem!reader

✮⋆˙ word count: 2,1k

✮⋆˙ synopsis: “He shuts you out. You show up anyway. Tension snaps, words cut, and then it's just hands, mouths, desperation — because silence never kept you from choosing him.”

✮⋆˙ A/N: heyy!! I personally didn't like this one – cause I hate writing short ones – I just wanted to post something so the blog doesn't ""die"". if you have some requests or thoughts you want to share, please feel free to send me a message and lmk what you think. don't forget to like and reblog it!! xox ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა

The lights in the apartment clock flashed 00:42 AM. I sat curled up on the couch, my phone screen glowing in my palm as I stared at the latest message I had sent him.

No response. Again. I had already double-checked if the messages were delivered. They were.

I sighed and typed another one, shorter this time.

[00:42 AM] Y/N: Are you still at the studio?

[00:56 AM] Y/N: Seungmin?

[01:09 AM] Y/N: Do you at least ate?

Still nothing.

My lips pressed into a thin line. I tapped on Chan’s name instead and sent a quick text:

[01:14 AM] Y/N → Chan: Is Seungmin still at the company?

The reply came almost instantly.

[01:14 AM] Chan: Yup. Still in the recording booth.

[01:15 AM] Chan: He’s arguing with himself about how his vocals suck.

[01:15 AM] Chan: You should probably come take him home before he erases the whole track.

My jaw tightened, fingers clenching around the phone. This wasn’t the first time. I tossed a hoodie over my tank top, grabbed my keys, and headed out.

The city passed like a blur outside the window as I drove, hands tight on the steering wheel, jaw clenched. Maybe this was insane. Maybe he just needed space. Maybe I was overreacting. But I knew him. And if there was one thing Seungmin was good at, it was pretending he was fine when he wasn’t.

The building was mostly empty at that hour, the distant hum of ventilation systems the only sound as I made my way through the halls. When I reached the studio, the door was slightly ajar, a soft trail of Seungmin’s voice leaking through.

Chan was in the producer’s chair, arms folded, head leaning back like he was halfway to sleep. He turned when he heard the door creak. His eyebrows rose. “Wow. He really pushed you, huh?”

I dropped my bag onto the couch with more force than necessary. “He’s not answering me. Again.”

Chan shrugged with a tired smile. “He’s locked in perfectionist mode. Keeps saying his tone sounds wrong. I’ve told him to stop at least four times. He argued. I gave up.”

I crossed my arms. “Is he eating?”

“No. He’s eating self-hatred and... vocal fry.” That earned a half-smirk from me.

Chan stood, slinging his jacket over one shoulder. “He might listen to you, though. I mean... if the pissed-off girlfriend look doesn’t make him flinch, I don’t know what will.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Coward.”

“Correct.” he said, grinning as he walked to the door. “Good luck. Don’t destroy any equipment.”

When the door clicked shut behind him, I finally turned to the booth. Seungmin was inside, headphones on, replaying the same take, muttering under his breath as he adjusted the mic. He hadn’t noticed me yet. I moved closer to the glass, arms folded.

Eventually, he turned and froze. Our eyes locked. He blinked, surprised, pulling off his headphones. I didn’t wait for an invitation, I opened the booth door and stepped in.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, voice rough. Seungmin blinked, pulling the headphones off. “It’s late.”

“Yeah. No shit.” I stepped further in. “Did you plan on ignoring me until morning or…?”

He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t mean to. I’ve just been working—”

“You always say that.” My voice cracked, just barely. “I get it, Min. You love what you do. But I’m not just some… background character in your day.”

A beat passed.

“I just... needed to get this right.” he muttered.

“You’ve been doing this for days. Skipping meals. Coming home after I’ve fallen asleep. Acting like I don’t exist.” His jaw clenched. “You think I’m mad because you’re working? I’m mad because you won’t let me in.” He didn’t answer. “You don’t have to carry everything by yourself, Seungmin. Not when I’m right here.”

He exhaled slowly, voice strained. “I didn’t want to worry you.”

“Yeah well, too late for that.”

He looked at me, finally meeting my eyes. And for a second, he looked smaller. Tired. Vulnerable. “I’m sorry.” he said. “For shutting you out. For making you feel like you don’t matter. You do. More than anything.”

I softened, stepping closer. “I’m sorry too. For making you think you can’t fall apart in front of me.”

He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something more, but the words didn’t come.

“Let me hear it.” I said. He hesitated, then pressed play. The recording played softly in the background. His voice filled the booth — raw, imperfect, and beautiful. I didn’t look at the monitor. I watched him. When it ended, silence hung between us.

“You sound like you mean every word.” I said. “It's good. Better even.”

He let out a shaky laugh. “You always say that.”

I reached up, brushing her fingers against his cheek. “Because it's always true. That’s the curse of caring too much.”

He leaned into my touch without thinking.

“I missed you.” I whispered.

“I’ve been here.”

“Not really.”

He looked at me again — really looked this time — and everything about him softened.

“I’m sorry.” he said quietly. “For not replying. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I wasn’t listening.”

I stepped forward, my voice lower now. “Sorry if I made you feel like you’re never doing enough. That’s not what I think. That’s never what I think.” The tension in his shoulders. The tired edge in his voice. I leaned in, closing the space between us slowly, giving him time to stop me. He didn’t.

Our lips met, slow and deliberate, like we were savoring something we weren’t sure we’d be allowed to taste again. There was nothing rushed about it. It was all breath and longing and the echo of weeks spent in silence. His mouth moved against mine like a silent apology, and I kissed him back like I wanted to undo every minute of distance with nothing but my lips.

The way he touched me wasn’t hungry at first —it was careful. Like I was glass. Like he was afraid I’d shatter and disappear. His hands rested at my waist before sliding up, tentative, brushing under the hem of my hoodie. The heat of his palms made my skin jump, and I gasped into his mouth when his thumbs grazed my ribs.

I pulled him closer, fingers threading into his hair, nails scratching lightly against his scalp. His soft groan vibrated through me. It was the kind of sound you only make when something feels too good to be real.

And it did feel unreal.

The studio was quiet, lit only by the soft glow from the control board. The world outside didn’t exist anymore. Just me, him, and the months of tension unraveling with every brush of skin.

He broke the kiss first, breathing hard. “You should go home.” he whispered, but his arms tightened around me like he couldn’t bear the thought of letting go.

“Not happening.” I murmured, my lips ghosting across his jaw. “You don’t get to shut down and pretend I don’t exist just because you’re scared.”

His eyes fluttered shut, like he was fighting something heavy inside him. “I’ve been so fucking lost lately.”

“Then let me find you.” I pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it somewhere behind us. My hands moved automatically, relearning him — his collarbones, the heat of his chest, the slight tremble in his stomach when my fingers dragged down his abs. His breathing hitched.

“You’re shaking.” I said quietly.

“I haven’t touched you in weeks.” he replied, voice wrecked. “I’ve been thinking about this every damn night.”

My hoodie was next. He peeled it off slowly, reverently, like each inch of skin he uncovered was sacred. When he kissed my shoulder, just below my collarbone, I felt my knees weaken. Then he looked up, eyes dark, lips parted. “I don’t remember how to take it slow.”

“You don’t have to.”

I pressed my body to his, grinding slowly against the bulge in his jeans. He cursed under his breath, gripping my hips hard enough to bruise. When he kissed me again, it was messy and breathless. No more restraint, just weeks of built-up tension crashing into us like a wave.

He backed me toward the padded bench, lips never leaving mine, hands everywhere, waist, hips, the underside of my breasts. He pushed me down gently, then stood between my legs, looking down at me like I was some beautiful secret he didn’t know how to deserve.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” he whispered, almost angry with himself for not saying it sooner.

He kissed his way down my body — hot, open-mouthed kisses on my chest, my stomach, the insides of my thighs. When he pulled my underwear down with his teeth, I thought I might combust right there.

He looked up at me from between my legs, eyes smoldering. “Let me taste you.”

I barely had time to nod before his tongue slid over me, slow, firm, deliberate. My hips bucked involuntarily, and he moaned into me like the taste alone was enough to undo him.

His tongue worked me open with practiced ease, lapping, teasing, circling my clit just right before sliding two fingers inside me. I gripped the edge of the bench, gasping, back arching as he pushed deeper, curling his fingers until I saw stars.

“Seungmin— fuck— don’t stop—”

“I’m not going anywhere.” he growled against me. “You’re shaking so pretty for me.”

And I was, legs trembling, breath ragged, vision blurring. He kept going, steady and relentless, until my orgasm hit me hard. I cried out, fingers tangled in his hair, thighs clamping around him as I came with a force that made the world tilt sideways.

He didn’t stop until I was panting, sensitive, trying to push him away with shaky hands.

Then he stood, wiping his mouth, looking thoroughly wrecked and incredibly proud.

“My turn.” I said, breathless.

I pulled him down by the waistband of his jeans, undoing the button with slow, teasing fingers. His cock sprang free, thick and flushed, and when I wrapped my hand around him, he hissed through his teeth.

“You’re killing me.”

“You like it.”

“Too much.”

I stroked him slowly, dragging my thumb over the head, watching his jaw clench and his eyes flutter shut. When he looked down at me, his control was visibly cracking. “Turn around.”

I blinked. “What?”

“Bench.” he said, voice low and dangerous. “Hands on the bench. I need you.”

The words made heat pool in my stomach. I did as he said. Bent over the bench, back arched, looking over my shoulder at him.

He lined himself up behind me, running the head of his cock through my folds. “You’re dripping,” he muttered. “Fuck. You feel ready?”

“Don’t make me beg.”

He slid in slowly, inch by inch until he was fully seated inside me. We both groaned. My hands clenched the edge of the bench as he pulled out halfway, then slammed back in, making the whole booth shake.

“I missed you.” he rasped against my ear.

“Shut up and keep fucking me.”

He obeyed, thrusts hard and deep, filling me completely. The sound of skin on skin, his breath in my ear, the ragged moans he tried to hold back, it was too much. And not enough.

I pushed back against him, meeting every thrust, panting his name between gasps. One of his hands slid under me, fingers finding my clit again. I jolted. “Oh my god— Seungmin— ”

“Come again for me, baby,” he growled. “I want to feel you fall apart.”

And I did. Harder than before. My vision went white, body clenching around him, drawing him deeper. He cursed loudly, fucking me through it, and moments later, he stilled, burying himself deep as he came with a broken gasp, his chest pressed to my back.

We stayed like that for a long time, breathing in sync, sweat cooling on our skin. He kissed my shoulder again, softer this time. More tender than desperate.

“You okay?” he whispered.

I nodded, twisting just enough to see him. “That was... good.”

He pulled me into his arms, tucking me against his chest like he couldn’t stand the thought of space between us. We stayed like that, still tangled, breathing each other in.

Eventually, I smiled. “I guess I really did have to come get you.”

He huffed a quiet laugh. “Yeah. Please keep doing that.”

I kissed him again, softer this time, and in the quiet hum of the booth, it felt like the rest of the world could wait.

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midnightfict · 5 months ago

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What History?

— 𓆩𓆪 —

𓆩 Lee Byung-Hun x F!reader 𓆪

Summary — Squid Game fans have been shipping two actors not knowing they have a history together.

A/N — aaaa, writer’s block is killing me. but the reqs i've been getting is starting to help. i promise i’m currently drafting for the other reqs.

request post

— 𓆩𓆪 —

The room was brightly lit, cameras positioned at every angle, and a familiar nervousness settled in the pit of your stomach. You weren’t new to interviews, but something about these promotional videos always made you a little jittery. Maybe it was the anticipation of how fans would react, or maybe it was the fact that sitting next to you was none other than Lee Byung-hun—your former high school boyfriend and now your co-star in Squid Game Season 2.

The two of you walked into the room together, followed by director Hwang Dong-hyuk, who greeted the crew with a casual nod.

“Alright,” a staff member announced. “We’re shooting two videos today. The first segment is watching fan edits, and the second is reading fan letters. Just react naturally, have fun, and remember—no breaking into hysterics.”

Byung-hun chuckled beside you. “That sounds like a challenge.”

You smirked. “You sound scared.”

“I might as well be. Have you seen those AI edits of me and Lee Jung-jae?”

The staff gestured for silence, signaling that the cameras were rolling. You introduced yourself to the camera, followed by Byung-hun and Dong-hyuk. The screen before you flickered to life, and the first video started playing.

The first edit was cinematic—a high-energy montage of Squid Game 2’s most intense moments. Gunfights, chase sequences, close-ups of steely gazes. It had everything. The booming orchestral soundtrack made every scene feel ten times more dramatic.

Byung-hun let out an impressed whistle. “Did we actually shoot something this cool?”

You nodded. “Because I don’t remember looking this badass.”

Dong-hyuk leaned forward, squinting. “Wait—when did you do that roll behind cover?”

You snorted. “That’s the one where I landed wrong and bruised my entire arm.”

Byung-hun grinned. “Ohhh, right. And you tried to play it off like you meant to do it.”

“I did mean to do it.”

Dong-hyuk shook his head. “That’s not what you said when you screamed in pain afterward.”

Byung-hun burst into laughter. Your light punch to his side silenced him, earning a dramatic yelp.

“Give respect to your elders!”

You gave the camera a look. “He’s so dramatic. We’re literally only one year apart.”

The next edit was a deep dive into In-ho’s past, set in black and white with emotional piano music. It contrasted his life as a police officer with his role as the Front Man, highlighting the tragedy of his choices.

Dong-hyuk hummed thoughtfully. “This fan basically made a better teaser than we did.”

Byung-hun nodded. “Can we hire them?”

You pointed at a particular shot. “This scene—this is when you had to retake your mask removal, what, twenty times?”

Byung-hun groaned. “Ugh. The mask kept getting caught on my hood. Every time I tried to look dramatic, I just looked stuck.”

Dong-hyuk chuckled. “We had to cut out three takes where you sighed right into the mask.”

Byung-hun held up his hands. “No need to expose me like that.”

Then came the brainrot edit. An animation of Squid Game characters dancing to some bizarre, upbeat song.

You had the biggest grin—too silly not to laugh. The video didn’t even make sense.

Dong-hyuk had his brows furrowed, an amused but not entirely entertained smile on his face.

Byung-hun, on the other hand, sat perfectly still, eyes locked on the screen. No one could tell what he was thinking.

When it ended, you all exchanged an awkward glance.

“I mean… I like it. It’s an interesting video,” you said, wiping tears from the corners of your eyes, still laughing.

Dong-hyuk fixed his glasses. “Is this what people see when they watch my show?”

Byung-hun crossed his arms. “They didn’t do me justice. Why is the Front Man not included in this video?”

The staff smirked. “Don’t worry, there’s a Front Man edit in the next one.”

The next video was different. The music was softer, the pacing slower. It highlighted your character’s interactions with In-ho—subtle glances, moments of hesitation, scenes where your characters moved in sync. It wasn’t obvious in the actual show, but with the way the editor framed it…

It almost looked like something was going on.

Byung-hun blinked. “What’s this?”

Dong-hyuk raised an eyebrow. “They created scenes that aren’t even in the series.”

You squinted. “Are we too old to understand what this is?”

It was a ship edit.

Silence.

Then, Byung-hun let out a slow, amused chuckle. “Well. That was unexpected.”

Dong-hyuk crossed his arms. “You two do have really natural chemistry.”

You cleared your throat. “I mean, our characters have history, so—”

Byung-hun nodded. “Right, right. Former police officers.”

Dong-hyuk hummed. “Well, I had another love interest in mind for In-ho, but thinking about it… your characters being shipped makes sense. Maybe I should make it canon in Season 3.”

Both you and Byung-hun snapped your heads toward him.

“Huh?!”

The crew erupted into laughter. Dong-hyuk smiled and closed the segment with a thank-you and a Squid Game 2 promotion.

After a quick makeup touch-up, a staff member placed a stack of envelopes in front of you, Byung-hun, and Dong-hyuk.

Dong-hyuk stretched his arms and grinned. “Alright, let’s see what the fans have to say. If anyone insults my writing, I’m walking out.”

Byung-hun smirked. “I’d say you’re bluffing, but we all know you’re dramatic enough to do it.”

You laughed. “Place your bets, everyone. How many letters will be about Byung-hun’s attractiveness?”

Byung-hun scoffed. “Excuse me, I am a serious actor. Not just a handsome face.”

The cameras rolled.

You picked up the first letter and smoothed it out before reading aloud.

‘Dear Director Hwang, your storytelling is a masterpiece. Every scene feels like it has so much depth and emotion. How do you come up with such gripping narratives?’

Dong-hyuk’s face lit up. “Ah, A letter for me!”

Byung-hun immediately reached over, fingers grasping at the paper. “Skip it.”

You swatted his hand away. “No, let him have his moment.”

Dong-hyuk straightened his posture, adjusting his jacket with mock importance. “Well, since you asked… My process is simple. I think, ‘What is the most stressful, painful situation I can put my characters in?’ And then I do that.”

Byung-hun leaned back in his chair, shaking his head. “I knew you enjoyed torturing us.”

Dong-hyuk grinned. “Absolutely.”

Byung-hun exhaled, then grabbed the next letter from the pile, unfolding it.

‘Was filming action scenes difficult? Especially the parkour scenes.’

You didn’t hesitate. “Oh, definitely. That scene where I had to jump from bed to bed? I had bruises for days.”

Byung-hun winced at the memory. “Oh yeah, you took a pretty bad fall.”

You sighed dramatically, throwing your arms up. “And no one even said ‘cut’ when I landed wrong! I had to just lie there in pain.”

Dong-hyuk raised a hand in defense. “Okay, to be fair, it looked intentional.”

Byung-hun let out a deep chuckle, shaking his head. “You heard it here first, folks. The director is a masochist.”

Dong-hyuk smirked. “It builds character.”

Byung-hun rubbed his temple. “I worry for your future wife.”

You sifted through the pile and grabbed the next letter.

‘To Byung-hun, was it difficult wearing the Front Man’s mask for long periods of time? It looks heavy.’

Byung-hun groaned dramatically, flopping against the back of his chair. “Oh, you have no idea.”

Dong-hyuk snorted. “He complained about it every single day.”

Byung-hun sat up, pointing at him. “Because it was a legitimate problem! The mask was so heavy, and it pressed into my face so much that I had red marks after every shoot.”

You bit back a laugh. “And let’s not forget the time it got stuck.”

Byung-hun groaned, covering his face with his hands. “Oh, please, let’s forget that.”

Dong-hyuk smirked. “We have footage.”

Byung-hun immediately turned to the camera, eyes pleading. “Dear editors, if you have any mercy, don’t include that clip.”

They did.

Dong-hyuk chuckled and grabbed the next letter. “‘Director Hwang, who is your favorite character in Squid Game?’”

He let out a dramatic sigh. “Yikes. That’s like asking me to pick my favorite child.”

Byung-hun smirked. “But we all know you have a favorite.”

Dong-hyuk tapped his fingers against the table, pretending to contemplate. “Well… I have a soft spot for In-ho.”

Byung-hun gasped, clutching his chest as if he’d been struck. “You love me?”

Dong-hyuk’s deadpan stare didn’t waver. “I said I love In-ho. Not you.”

You burst into laughter as Byung-hun recoiled in mock betrayal. “Wow, I won’t return to Season 3 then.”

Dong-hyuk ignored him, his expression thoughtful. “I love complex characters, and In-ho has so much depth. There’s still so much left to explore with him.”

You leaned in. “So, does that mean he’s safe in Season 3?”

Dong-hyuk smirked. “I mean, it’s possible, but I don’t know. We’ll have to find out.”

Byung-hun cut in, laughing. “What do you mean you don’t know? You created the story.”

Dong-hyuk simply shrugged. “Let’s just say… No one is ever truly safe.”

The next letter Byung-hun picked up seemed harmless at first.

‘I don’t know what it is, but…’

He stopped mid-sentence, chuckling as he glanced at the camera, then at you and Dong-hyuk. “I don’t know if I can continue reading this without someone getting mad.”

Silence fell over the room.

Curious, you snatched the letter from his hands and scanned it. A laugh bubbled out of you. “Who’s gonna get mad over this?”

Byung-hun gave you a knowing look, subtly hinting at someone you had dated during filming.

Your expression faltered for half a second before you quickly masked it with a tight smile. Keeping your mouth hidden from the camera, you mouthed, “We broke up.”

Dong-hyuk grinned and leaned forward to peek at the letter over your shoulder. “Well, well, well. They think you two have some history together because you make the characters so compelling together.”

Byung-hun cleared his throat, spitting out a joke before anyone could dwell on the comment. “Have you guys ever considered we are both just very good actors?”

Dong-hyuk stroked his chin, looking thoughtful. “Seeing how everybody seems to ship you two, maybe I should create a romance movie with you both.”

You and Byung-hun turned to him in horror, simultaneously shaking your heads.

Dong-hyuk simply shrugged. “What? The fans love it. I should give them what they want.”

Byung-hun laughed nervously and quickly faced the camera. “Okay let's end it! Thank you for watching this video. Don’t forget to watch us on Netflix!”

After finishing the shoot, the three of you parted ways—but the internet did not.

A week after the video was published, fans went crazy. The shipping theories got worse. Your social media was flooded with comments. Multiple media outlets invited you and Byung-hun for interviews together, riding the hype.

One afternoon, before another press event, you texted him.

Want to grab coffee before the next interview?

Thought you’d never ask.

At the café, he took a sip of his drink and smirked. “Remember how broke we were from getting coffee every other day in high school?”

You groaned. “Oh god, that was what? Twenty—no, thirty years ago? High school was rough. I don’t even want to remember that.”

“You’re mean. So I meant nothing to you?” He feigned hurt, holding back a smile.

“Oh, shush. You know what I mean.” You playfully pushed his forehead as he held the door open for you. “Besides, we lasted ‘til university, no—”

Click.

A camera shutter.

You froze. He froze.

Through the café window, a crowd had formed. Some held up phones. Others were whispering excitedly.

Fuck. They found you.

Byung-hun exhaled. “Well, I guess there’s no turning back.”

Then, with a smirk, he grabbed your hand, laced his fingers through yours, and yanked you out of the sea of screaming fans.

#lee byung hun #hwang in ho #x reader #fluff #front man #squid game #in ho #in ho x reader #lee byung hun x reader

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weneeya · 3 months ago

Text

soft kissing m.list | rules

pairing. blue lock x reader

characters. sae, shidou, kaiser

note. kind of putting my stuff together with the bllk fandom, hope it's not too ooc and if it is, i hope that you at least like it lmao

Sae or a kiss for reassurance

Saying that Sae was popular with the girls was almost an euphemism. They were always swooning over him, trying to get his attention. And even if he obviously didn’t care at all, you could help but to get worried because of this.

It wasn’t really a lack of self confidence, you knew you were pretty and that he loved you but looking at those girls being REALLY pretty and having perhaps a lot more than anything you had, it kept on making you wonder if he wouldn’t leave you for any of them.

You were both sitting on the couch in the living room, his eyes focused on the book between his fingers. You were sitting next to him, fidgeting with your fingers as you were obviously stressed over something. Too bad for you, your boyfriend knew you all too well to not notice it.

“What’s wrong?” He asked without even looking up from his book, but when he heard no answer from you, he slowly moved his eyes to your figure. You were avoiding his gaze, trying to find the right words and clearly struggling. He frowned just a little, putting his book to the side. It seemed more important than what he thought.

“Do you think about leaving me, sometimes?” Your words hit a chord deep inside of him. Leaving you? Why would he be leaving you? The thought never even crossed his mind. He gently grabbed your hand, his lips meeting your knuckles to leave soft kisses against your skin. “Never.”

When he looked up at you and you finally met his eyes, you knew he wasn’t lying. But he could still see a flash of worry in your eyes, and he didn’t like it. His free hand moved up to your face so he could hold your chin, tilting your head down to make you lean closer to him. The way he softly kissed your lips made your heart beat faster in your chest, because you knew you were the only one being able to have this treatment from him.

“Don’t ever think I’d leave you,” he whispered in such a gentle tone after he pulled away, his lips almost brushing against yours as he spoke. How could you not trust him when he was acting like this. Nothing should make you doubt his feelings for you, ever.

Shidou or a kiss as an apology

He never really cared about making people angry, at least most of the time. It was more like entertainment to him. But if it was you? He hated it. He always had some trouble expressing himself in any other way than teasing or violence, but he tried his best so he could do things right with you. So making you angry was the last thing he wanted.

He couldn’t even remember what he did, but apparently it was really bad because you had been giving him the silent treatment for days now. No matter what he tried to do, you kept on ignoring him, not even looking in his direction. He could cry to be honest.

You were sitting on a chair, in front of your desk, when Shidou walked into the room. You knew it was him, because he was the only one walking in without even knocking at the door. You didn’t glance at him ; well you tried until you felt his hands on your legs, making you turn slowly in his direction.

He was down on his knees, his fingers slowly stroking your legs as he began to leave soft kisses up to your knees. Between his soft touches on your skin, he was muttering sweet nothings about being sorry and promising to be more careful.

“Please baby, don’t ignore me,” he pleaded silently, looking up at you to finally meet your eyes. Your fingers slowly reached for his cheek, brushing the skin which made him slowly move up so he could face you. He moved closer, his hands sliding up your thighs.

His lips left a quick peck against yours, pressing just a little to be sure it was real. When he moved away, a grin suddenly appeared on his face. You looked away, hating how easily he could go back at you. He grabbed you out of nowhere, making you fall from your chair so you would join him on the ground.

‘I’ll be good, I promise,” he told you as he nuzzled his nose against the skin of your neck, the smile never leaving his lips. You let your fingers run through his hair, sighing slowly. You couldn’t stay angry at him for too long, especially not when he was acting like this.

Kaiser or a kiss out of jealousy

He had never hidden the fact that he was a jealous man, even if he didn’t like the idea that he was this close to someone. Well, at first he didn’t like it, but now it was the least of his preoccupations. You were in the center of his mind and thoughts, and he always made sure that you were focusing solely on him.

So when he saw you talking with that random dude, he felt his blood boiling in his veins. Yes, you had the right to talk to other men, he wasn’t that possessive (perhaps he was, but he wouldn’t say it out loud). But you were laughing a little too much and he was a bit too touchy with you ; there was no way he would let this happen.

He walked back to you slowly, maybe too slowly ; he looked like a predator about to jump on his prey. He wrapped an arm around your waist when he arrived next to you, bringing you closer to him so the other guy’s hand would leave your arm. A light gasp left your lips and you looked at Kaiser with a little smile.

Before you could say anything, he leaned closer to you so he could capture your lips in a second. His free hand cupped your cheek and your own found its way to his arm, pulling away not so far after he kissed you. You turned your head to glance at the other guy, just standing there in disbelief.

Kaiser looked at him, slowly raising an eyebrow. “Don’t you see you’re not welcome now? Just leave already.” And the poor guy didn’t hesitate before he almost ran away from here. You looked back at your boyfriend, crossing your arms on your chest with a judging look as he simply shrugged his shoulders. At least, he had you all for himself now.

thank you for reading <3

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grandline-fics · 6 months ago

Note

Can you do the nightmare wedding scenario with Luffy, Sanji, and Ussop

DESCRIPTION: They have a nightmare that you marry someone else

WARNINGS: little bit of brief angst/insecurity but it's kept light for the most part

CHARACTERS: Luffy, Usopp | Law, Zoro, | Ace, Shanks, Mihawk, Kid, Katakuri

WORDS: 1,653

A/N: Thank you for the request. I loved the past versions of this prompt so I was happy to return to it. Sadly I wasn't able to think of something unique for Sanji so left it to just Luffy and Usopp. It's my first time writing for Usopp so hopefully I got his character right and that you like what I came up with for this.

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

———————

LUFFY

Love was a word Luffy knew a great deal about in all of its various meanings and depths. He loved freedom and adventure, discovering each new island and opportunity to explore like a restless electricity ran through his nerves. His love for food and fun was quite literally sating a deep hunger leaving him content and filled. The love he had for his brothers was deep and intense, sadly sometimes painful but it was a hurt he bore willingly and without complaint. His crew and friends brought out a love that left him feeling stronger, fierce, and determined to protect.

You were all those feelings wrapped into one amazing person that Luffy knew he couldn’t and wouldn’t be without. Being separated from you for two years and losing Ace had been the massive wake up call to his feelings for you. He truly didn’t think he would ever have to endure that sharp twisting feeling of shock and pain when it came to you again. Oh how wrong he was because now here he stood looking at your smiling so brightly and staring at only Trafalgar Law with your entire attention raptly on the other Captain, your hand interwoven and anchored into his; refusing to let go.

On the one hand, seeing you smile made Luffy want to smile too but on the other hand, why did you have to be looking at his supposed ally like that? Robin had warned him that pirate alliances usually ended up in betrayal but this was a hundred times worse than what he ever could have imagined. Then it got worse when Luffy stared in horror as you and Law exchanged rings and vowed to be each other’s spouse forever and complete the declaration with a kiss.

With a yell Luffy woke, launching himself out onto the floor. In his dream he’d tried to leap between you and Law before your lips could connect but he had been so tightly invested in it that his actions had carried through his subconscious. Groggily he rubbed his eyes and got to his feet blearily looking around the empty Crow’s Nest. The memory of the dream fresh in his mind, Luffy wasted no further time in racing down the mast and to the sleeping quarters.

The door slammed open loudly causing you to wake with a jolt, eyes barely opened and alarmed when you felt someone leap onto your bed and grip your shoulders. Instinctively you grabbed the person’s wrists and blinked through your tiredness to become even more confused to see Luffy staring at you intensely. “Wh- what’s… Luffy? What’s wrong?”

“As your Captain you’re not allowed to marry Tra-guy ever!” His order did nothing to help bring you out of the heavy fog of sleep. You scrunched your face up in confusion, you recognised the words but the context of the order just didn’t make sense.

“Marry Law?” You mumbled with a yawn. “What’d’you mean?”

“I know he’s smart and whatever but this is your crew. You can’t leave-”

“Luffy.” You stopped your Captain with a light squeeze of his hand and smiled at him sleepily. “I’m not leaving the crew, relax.” Your voice was soothing at it was a relief to hear you say you weren’t leaving but still Luffy couldn’t shake the uncomfortable twist in his stomach.

Feeling your hands over his helped with ridding him of the image of Law’s hands over yours. Luffy took a breath and kept his gaze on you, heavily frowning at your lips, the image of Law’s about to claim yours making him glare. Before you could ask what was wrong you blinked in surprise when Luffy kissed you. It wasn't the first time you’d kissed, your relationship with the Captain was one neither of you really thought to put a label on, just deciding to enjoy how things naturally progressed. This was the first time however that Luffy’s lips pressed against yours so insistently, like he was trying to prove something.

Given his confusing statement about you and Law marrying you could connect the dots now that you’d woken enough. With a smile you pulled back and lifted your hands away to wrap Luffy into a hug and lay back down on the bed. Your smile grew when Luffy adjusted his arms to hold you tightly, your body already feeling the pull to go back to sleep. As you smiled contently you tucked your head under Luffy’s chin, falling back to sleep to the sleepy mumbles of your Captain cursing out Law for being an idiot if he thought he could ever have you.

USOPP

“Usopp! I have to tell someone before I burst!” Your excited voice shot through his concentration as he sat working in his workshop. Immediately Usopp turned to smile at you, his own excitement mirroring yours. You were truly the only one that was capable of stealing his attention no matter what the situation. You slid to a stop in front of him, hands reaching out instinctively to take his into your hold, your excitement only growing with each second. “I can’t believe this is happening!”

“Well come on, tell me already!” Usopp laughed trying to keep you concentrated on the mystery topic that he now couldn’t wait to be part of.

“I’m getting married!” Your exclamation caused Usopp’s face to freeze in shock, his previous smile twitching into one of disbelief, thinking you were pulling a prank on him. How could you get married? He hadn’t proposed to you yet. While you’d both been together for a while and he loved you, he’d been too much of a coward to say those three little but massive words to you. Mostly he told himself it was too soon, really though he’d convinced himself that if he did confess the full weight of his feelings to you, you’d crush him by saying you didn’t feel the same.

“O-oh! Th-that’s…great!” He forced out tightly, unwilling to see you upset for not taking your news well. “Wh-who’s the lucky guy?“

“That’s the amazing thing!” You all but swooned as you thought about your betrothed. “He’s a real hero and warrior! So brave and strong, you’ll love him! Promise you’ll come to the wedding, please Usopp?” Your request was spoken so sweet and earnestly that again, despite the painful punch to his heart Usopp refused to show it. Unable to say no he ground his teeth together before forcing himself to nod, flinching when you let out a cheer and threw your arms around him to hug him tightly, thanking him.

In the blink of an eye you were no longer hugging him and Usopp was no longer in the workshop. Instead he stood on the deck of the Sunny, hearing the rest of the crew laughing happily as they waited for the wedding to start. Usopp kept his head down, trying to avoid the reality of the situation for as long as he could. When your laughter sounded Usopp slowly looked up and let out a shriek of shock to see who your were marrying standing at the altar, arms folded tightly and face completely hidden by the all too familiar mask. “Sogeking?!” He demanded in disbelief managing to stagger over to you, his head spinning at the development. How was this even possible? “You’re marrying Sogeking?”

“Of course!” You beamed, oblivious to Usopp’s distress as you left Usopp’s side to approach his secret persona. “Look at him. Isn’t he perfect? There’s no one else I’d ever consider marrying. Only him.”

With a gasp Usopp woke and covered his eyes, slowly working on calming his breathing as he realised everything was a dream. Just a stupid dream. Sighing in relief he rolled his eyes at his own silly mind. Of course it was a dream. Then his mind began to stir up uncomfortable thoughts once more. Why were you with a coward like him? He wouldn’t blame you for choosing someone else to marry. Just as he was about to spiral more, he jumped in surprise when you rolled over in your sleep, your arms tightening over his as your lay your head on his shoulder. As if sensing how tense he was, you stirred and woke with a small sleepy hum. “Usopp?”

“I’m okay…”

“Liar.” You sleepily mumbled, pulling yourself closer lifting your head up to press a small kiss to his cheek. “Bad dream?”

“Yeah…” Usopp sighed, moving to hold you close. You always could see through him. Swallowing hard, he began to think of the deeper meaning the dream must have had and cleared his throat. Bracing himself he blurted out. “I love you.”

“Usopp.” Usopp flinched and prepared himself for your rejection but it didn’t come. Instead you sat up to face him fully, smiling happier than he’d ever seen you show before. “I love you too.”

“Thank goodness! I thought you’d call me an idiot or something…” He sighed with a nervous laugh. You smiled softly, shaking your head at your boyfriend’s timid nature. You knew he could be brave when he needed to be, it was just a shame he didn’t have the same amount of faith in himself that you had in him. “Also, you should know I’m Sogeking. No one else. If anyone says they are, they’re lying. Okay?”

You stared at Usopp in surprise. You and everyone on the crew- except for Luffy and Chopper- knew that Usopp was Sogeking. It was obvious but you didn’t have the heart to disappoint him by telling him that so instead you slowly nodded. “Thank you for trusting me with the truth. You really must love me to tell me that.”

“Of course I do!” Usopp declared, offering you a proud grin as you kissed his forehead and lay back down, allowing him to hold you close and sleep dreams better than his last one.

——————————————-

TAG LIST (If I’ve missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa, @kabloswrld , @atanukileaf , @ane5e , @stuckinthewrongworld , @deathsmajestysworld , @cloudysunset04 , @chillerkiller , @extremely-ashtridic , @decayingpizza , @liesatemyocean , @ace-for-ace , @nerium-lil , @destynelseclipsa , @dreamcastgirl99 , @my-name-is-heartache , @iamn1ya , @yunho-leeknow , @hinata7346 , @h0oouwlss , @missrandomdreamer , @sleepykittycx , @ddawn111 , @jaygrl22 , @sylum , @acehyacinth , @resident-cryptid , @treelogirl , @maellem , @its-a-dam-blue-brick , @thulhu , @appalost

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cressidagrey · 4 months ago

Text

The Queen of Romantasy and the Race Car Prince - Chapter 21

Pairing: Lando Norris x Elizabeth "Lizzie" Treshton (Original Character)

Summary:

Elizabeth Treshton—bestselling romantasy author, queen of fae heartbreak, and sworn devotee of a carefully structured routine—never expected her service dog to abandon protocol and diagnose a Formula 1 driver with something. But that’s exactly what happens when Mara the wonder-dog ditches Lizzie’s side to aggressively alert to none other than Lando Norris in the middle of a coffee shop.

Warnings and Notes:

Mention of epilepsy and service animals. I don't myself suffer from epilepsy, so I asked my IRL friend, who thankfully was nice enough to let me ask her all the questions I could come up with. The rest I asked Reddit. So everything that's wrong...that's totally my fault and not on purpose.

This has literally all the worst things the internet has to offer: Ableism, Sexisms, Toxic Media, horrible journalism, death threats...I am pretty sure I am missing some of it.

As always big thanks to @llirawolf , who listens to me ramble

Lizzie sat curled up on the sofa in Aunt Lou’s living room, her arms wrapped around a cushion like it could hold her together. Mara was sprawled out beside her, her big brown eyes watching Lizzie carefully, like she knew something was wrong.

Lizzie ran her fingers through Mara’s fur, letting the motion of it soothe her, if only slightly. Her mind kept going over the same thing again and again: all those comments, all those tweets, all those people…they didn’t think she should exist.

They didn’t think, she deserved to exist.

And her mother…

Tasha was sitting cross-legged on the armchair, arms folded, her expression thunderous, playing with her phone.

Finally, Aunt Lou turned to Lizzie, hands on her hips. "Enough."

Lizzie blinked. “What?”

“This whole thing.” Aunt Lou gestured wildly. “This self-doubt, this ‘I was replaced’ nonsense. I am not having it.”

Lizzie let out a tired sigh. “Aunt Lou—”

“No. Listen to me, Elizabeth Louise.” Aunt Lou sat down on the coffee table, right in front of Lizzie, her sharp gaze pinning her in place.

“You were never replaced,” she said fiercely. “You were left. And that is not the same bloody thing.”

Lizzie’s throat tightened.

“She left you. She made that choice. And that is her shame to carry, not yours.”

Lizzie swallowed hard, but Aunt Lou wasn’t done.

“You are not a burden,” she said bluntly, hands on her knees, her voice steady and firm. “You were never a burden, you’re just… a little extra work. And if anyone can’t deal with that, they’re not worth your time.” Her eyes softened. “And sweetheart, you are worth it. You’re worth every bit of extra trouble, every hospital stay, every seizure…you are worth every damn second.”

“You know what I did?” Lou demanded. “When your father showed up at my door with you, six years old, confused, scared out of your mind?”

Lizzie shook her head.

“I took you in,” Lou said firmly. “I wrapped you in a blanket, I made you a cup of tea—weak, with too much sugar, because you were a kid and had terrible taste—"

Lizzie let out a weak laugh.

“—and I looked at you and knew right then and there that you were mine.” Aunt Lou exhaled sharply. “And you are mine, Lizzie. I don’t care about biology, I don’t care about paperwork. You are my daughter."

Lizzie bit her lip, trying to blink away the sting in her eyes. “You always treated me like one.”

“Of course I bloody did.” Aunt Lou huffed. “And if you ever doubt that again, I swear I’ll knock some sense into you.”

Before Lizzie could respond, Tasha let out an incredulous scoff from her chair. “I cannot believe we are even having this conversation.”

Lizzie turned toward her, startled. “Tash—”

“No, seriously.” Tasha shot to her feet, pacing like her mother had been earlier. “This is ridiculous.”

Lizzie frowned. “I—”

“No. You don’t get to just let some internet loser make you doubt yourself. You don’t get to do that to me.”

Lizzie blinked. “What?”

Tasha stopped, turning to face her. “You are my sister. You have always been my sister. And I don’t know how many times I have to say it before it actually gets through your stubborn head, but I will not stand here and listen to you act like you don’t belong to this family.”

Lizzie opened her mouth, but Tasha steamrolled right over her.

“You do belong. You always belonged. And I swear, if I hear you say one more word about being ‘replaced’ or ‘not good enough,’ I will fight you.”

Lizzie let out a choked laugh.

“I’m serious,” Tasha said. “I will throw hands. And then I’ll hug you after, because that’s what sisters do.”

Lizzie swallowed hard, overwhelmed. “I—”

Aunt Lou clapped her hands together. “Right. Settled then.” She stood, brushing off her jeans. “No more of this nonsense. You are mine, you are ours, and that is the end of the discussion.”

Lizzie exhaled shakily.

Tasha flopped down on the couch beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and squeezing tight. “Love you, dummy.”

Lizzie leaned into her, her heart aching in a way that wasn’t painful, just full. “Love you too.”

Aunt Lou sighed, shaking her head fondly. “Honestly, this family. Bloody stubborn, the lot of you.”

Lizzie smiled, the warmth of them settling deep in her bones. Maybe her mother had left. Maybe she had a whole new family now.

But Lizzie had hers.

And somehow, as the three of them snuggled up on the sofa together, watching some mindless TV show, Lizzie found herself believing it.

She was never a burden. She was never a problem. Maybe her mother didn't want her, maybe she never had, but that didn't mean Lizzie didn't belong.

She leaned her head against Aunt Lou's sturdy shoulder, Tasha's arm still around her.

She was loved. That was what mattered.

"Besides you got multiple world champions singing your praises," Tasha teased her.

What?

Tasha poked her in the side. “Don’t give me that look. It’s all over the internet. Lando’s got people swooning over how he’s so in love with you that he got the entire grid to release a statement. You’re all over the sports news.”

Lizzie freezed, coffee mug halfway to her lips. “What?”

“Yeah,” Tasha nodded, flipping her phone around so Lizzie can see the screen. “Like, all of them. It’s actually insane.”

Lizzie leant in, blinking at the words on the screen. Lando’s statement—she already knew about that one. But right below it are posts from Max, Charles, Carlos, Oscar—who apparently torched people on Twitter—Lewis, Pierre, Alex, even drivers she barely knew. Some of them are long and furious, others short but biting. But they all say the same thing: the way people treated her was unacceptable.

Lizzie stared. “You’re joking.”

“Nope,” Tasha said, popping a bite of toast into her mouth. “Oscar basically threatened to annihilate anyone who spoke badly about you again. Max said something about how F1 is about competition and not cruelty, —which, considering it’s Max, is actually kind of terrifying. Charles and Carlos both went full ‘we stand with Lando and Lizzie’ mode, and Lewis did this whole thing about supporting people with chronic conditions. Oh, and you got all the wags posting long rants on their instagram stories.’”

Lizzie’s mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again. “What the hell?”

“Right?” Tasha snorted. “I mean, it’s actually insane. I don’t think I’ve ever seen them this united over anything. You somehow got an entire grid of stubborn, overcompetitive men to rally behind you.”

Lizzie swallowed, looking back at the screen. The words blur slightly. She hadn’t expected this. She’d expected silence, maybe some awkward avoidance from people who didn’t want to get involved. But this?

This was a statement.

She set the phone down, exhaling. “I don’t even know what to say.”

Tasha watched her carefully. “Are you okay?”

Lizzie hesitated, then nods. “Yeah. Just—” She shook her head, laughing softly. “I didn’t think they’d care this much.”

Tasha smirked. “Well, they do. Lando wasn’t going to let this slide, and clearly neither were the rest of them.”

Lizzie rubbed her face, still processing. “I bet Oscar was unhinged.”

“Oh, completely. That man wrote a dissertation on Twitter. You should send him a thank-you gift.”

Lizzie snorted, finally smiling. “Like what?”

Tasha grinned. “A tiny crochet Oscar with a sword. Y’know, to commemorate his Twitter war crimes.”

Lizzie shook her head, but the smile lingered. “I might actually do that.”

***

Lizzie was curled up on the couch, knees pulled up to her chest, a blanket draped over her shoulders. She’s been mostly quiet since dinner, absentmindedly scrolling through her phone. Lando watched her from the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a bottle of water in hand.

She finally sighed, locking her phone and tossing it onto the coffee table. “I think I’m going to lay low for a little while.”

Lando frowned slightly, coming over to sit next to her. “You don’t have to do that.”

Lizzie gave him a small smile, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. “I know. But I want to. At least for a bit. Just… keep away from the internet, let everything settle.” She exhaled, rolling her shoulders like she’s shaking off the weight of it all.

His jaw tightened. He hates that she feels like this—like she has to disappear just to protect herself. “If that’s what you need, then do it,” he said softly. “But I don’t want you thinking you have to.”

Lizzie nodded. “I know. And I appreciate you, really.” She nudges his knee with her foot. “But it’s not forever. Just… a little while.”

Lando reached over, taking her hand and running his thumb over her knuckles. “Alright.”

She squeezed his hand in return, then nods toward his phone on the armrest. “But tell the guys and girls I said thank you. I mean, I’ll message Oscar myself because that man fought a war for me, but… the rest of them, too.”

Lando huffed out a laugh. “Oscar basically nuked Twitter.”

“I know,” Lizzie grinned. “I should crochet him a little war trophy.”

Lando chuckled lightly. “He’d probably love that.”

Lizzie leaned back against the couch, still smiling faintly. Then the exhaustion seemed to hit her again, and she closed her eyes.

Lando watched her, tracing small circles on the back of her hand with his thumb. She looked tired—exhausted, even. Tired physically and emotionally.

“Speaking of messages, though…”

Lizzie narrowed her eyes. “Oh no. What?”

“My family,” Lando said, watching her reaction carefully. “Mum, my sisters… they, uh—” He paused, then went for it. “They’re demanding to meet you.”

Lizzie blinked, “What.”

“They knew I was dating someone named Lizzie,” Lando explained. “But they did not know it was Elizabeth Treshton.” He made a face. “Apparently, that was crucial information I neglected to share.”

Lizzie sat there for a moment, blinking, like she was trying to process the idea of meeting Lando's family.

“They- They want to meet me? Why?” The words came out slightly strangled.

Lando shrugged. “Cause they’re nosy, and they think I’m hiding something, and I’m pretty sure if I don’t let them meet you, they’ll start thinking you’re actually secretly an alien or something.”

“Oh god,” Lizzie groaned, leaning forward until her head almost hit her knees. “Oh god, I have to meet the in-laws now. I have to-oh god I have to impress the in-laws. Oh god they’re probably going to hate me—“

“Whoa, whoa, hold on.” Lando put a hand on her shoulder. “First of all, they aren't gonna hate you."

Lizzie huffed. “How do you know? You can’t know that.”

He tugged at a strand of her hair, grinning. “Because you’re pretty damn lovable. And two… I know my own family. None of them could hate you even if they tried.” He shook his head. “In fact, they might actually be more excited to meet you than me.”

“I haven’t even processed the grid knowing who I am,” Lizzie groaned. “Now I have to face the Norris family tribunal?”

Lando grinned. “Basically, yeah.”

Lizzie sighed dramatically but then peeks up at him. “Your mum… does she like romance books?”

“Oh, she’s a huge reader,” Lando says. “I think my sisters are too. Why?”

Lizzie stared at the ceiling. “Because if they’ve read my books, I might just walk into the ocean.”

Lando just laughed, leaning over to kiss her temple. “Too late now, love. You’re stuck with me.”

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satorusugurugurl · 10 months ago

Note

Can u pls do jjk men fic w a chubby reader where the boys like her but they think he wouldn’t go for her cuz she’s a lil extra thicc.

(Maybe other jealous ppl tell her that too n make her insecure) and then the boys find out and confess n stuff (and spice too maybe) :3

JJK Men: You’re Beautiful!

Summary: JJK Men react to someone making you feel insecure about your body.

Characters: Choso Kamo, Ryomen Sukuna (Roommate AU), Nanami Kento, Gojo Satoru, Chubby!AFAB!Reader

Warnings: making out, public smexy stuff, dry humping feeling up, body worship, language, fatphobia, body shaming, weight insecurities, Word

Count: 9K

A/N: Sorry for the lack of content! I wanted to finish this fic, and I have two others that are almost done, but your girl kept passing out in the middle of editing this! I hope you enjoy it!!

Choso Kamo:

“Snacks?”

“Check.”

“Water?”

“Check!”

“Picnic blanket?”

There was a pause on the other line of the phone. “Shit!” Choso yelled as you watched him turn back towards his house. “I knew I was forgetting something.” You bit down on your lip, kicking your feet as he turned his pretty eyes on you. The second your eyes made contact, you felt your cheeks flush as he smiled softly.

You felt your cheeks flush under his gaze as he turned and went back inside his apartment. You fell harder for your best friend when he smiled at you like that. The man you sat next to in art class who was quiet and kept to himself. Sitting there despite your friend's pleas for you not to had been the best decision of your entire life. Choso was amazing! He was sweet and talented, and he had a huge heart.

He loved his brothers and took amazing care of them, and God, he was so sweet. Plus, he was like the hottest guy you’d ever seen. God, you had it down for him, but you didn't dare tell him how you felt—not yet.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Choso said as he walked to his car.

“N-Nothing!”

“There is because you haven't shown me your outfit.”

You perked up, grinning as you propped the phone on your vanity, standing far enough to show Choso your outfit. “I'm wearing a crop top and shorts!” you grinned, twirling around, showing off your thick, curvy body that you loved. What do you think?” When you glanced at the phone, you nearly tripped as you saw Choso smiling dreamily at you, his chin resting on his steering wheel as he stared.

“You look cute.” He said in an almost hushed tone that had your heart racing. “Alright, I’m on my way. I’ll be there soon.”

“Sounds good. Please be safe while driving over here.”

“I always am.”

The second line disconnected, and you shoved your face into the corner and kicked your feet. He was so cute, and he said you were adorable! This was the best day ever, and he hadn’t even picked you up yet. Your eagerness had you rushing out of your room into the living room, where you found your roommate sitting. She was watching television, and as soon as she heard your entrance, she glanced up, eyes wide as she did a double takeover of your outfit.

You looked smoking hot. Your boobs were perfectly fitted in the tight crop top. At the same time, the curve of your ass would have men howling at it like those old-timey cartoons. Your hair was styled perfectly, and your light makeup was done. You were a stunning sight. But it wasn’t just your beauty that had your roommate seething with jealousy. It was your confidence and your giddy attitude over the fact that Choso Kamo was taking you out.

“Where are you off to?”

“Oh, Choso is taking me to the park! They’re having a movie night there, so we got tons of snacks, and we’re just going to watch a movie and talk under the stars.” The dreamily lovey-dovey look in your eyes made you already jealous of your roommate.

“You're going out like that?”

Her words had you stopping in your tracks as you glanced down at yourself. “Yeah—? Why do I have a hole in my pants or something?” You glance back at your pants.

“No, it's just—you’re going to be wearing a crop top in public with Choso?”

“I always wear crop tops.”

Your roommate could see the hesitation in your eyes at her words. “Yeah, but that’s normally when we’re with our other friends. You know friends who are thick like you. You’ll be sitting on a blanket next to Choso, who looks like an artisan carved him out of marble.” You swallowed, poking at your cute tummy. “I just wouldn't want you to be embarrassed; you are a little extra thick.” She stood up, carrying her past you and moving towards the kitchen. “You aren’t trying to impress him by wearing something like that, right?”

You had been trying to impress him. You picked out your cutest and the shorts that looked great on you. This was the outfit you always wore when you needed a confidence boost.

“Oh—you were trying to impress him, weren’t you?” You swallowed hard at your suddenly dry throat. “Oh honey, you’re too thick for him. Could you imagine being on top of him?” She shook her head as she threw her bowl in the sink. “If you want to impress him, maybe pick up on my workout regiment?”

Her words left you feeling stunned as you scoffed. “That was fucking rude.” You snapped, eyebrows throwing together as you glared. “Choso said my outfit looked cute. And you might be insecure with your body, but I love mine.” Your roommate rolled her eyes as she grabbed her keys off the counter, heading for the door.

“Cute as in a sisterly way, probably.”

As the door to your shared department behind her, you resisted the urge to throw her mother’s face at the door. Ever since you and Choso had grown closer together, your roommate, who was a friendly acquaintance, had turned into a mythic bitch. She was constantly jabbing you about your weight and what you wore. It might be time for you to start looking for a new roommate or somewhere else to live. She had just to be jealous, which shouldn’t affect you.

But it did.

As you glanced at the mirror, you suddenly felt overly exposed. She was right; Choso had a nice build, and you were curvy and thick. Those toxic, cruel words had you reaching into the closet, slipping on a hoodie over your shorts before you headed downstairs to wait for Choso to arrive.

The second he pulled up in front of your dorm, the passenger-side window rolled down. “Hey cutie, ready fo—” Choso frowned eyeing the hoodie as you got in the front seat. “Uhm, what happened to the crop top and shorts?” He prodded as he pulled onto the main road, heading for the park.

“Uhm—I got cold.”

“It’s eighty degrees.”

“Yeah? So?”

Choso sighed, running his tongue over his bottom lip as he focused on the road. “You know I hate it when you lie to me.” That stung like a lash from a whip.

“I’m not lying.” You sighed out, tilting your head back.

“Ha, you honestly think I’m buying that? I know you. And I know when you’re cold because you’re normally on top of me, trying to steal my body heat. So you aren’t cold.” It was almost annoying that he knew you so well. But at the same time, you were thankful that he did. Slowly turning your head, you could see him glancing at you every few seconds while he maintained a vigilant gaze on the road. “So, are you going to come up with another shitty lie? Or are you gonna tell me why you’re wearing a hoodie over the outfit you were so excited to show me.”

You groaned, scrubbing your hands down your face before turning in your seat. “Has anyone told you that it’s annoying how observant you are?” The remark only had your crush smiling. “Fine, fine, uhm—” you rubbed your neck, “my roommate made some pretty nasty comments, so I wasn’t feeling as confident in it.”

Anger tagged at the features of Choso’s face. “What?!” He snapped, turning his gaze back on you.

“Yeah, it’s pretty shocking, to say the least. She said lots of stuff. Mostly along the lines that I was too thick to be wearing what I was.” Those words rang in your ears. “She asked if I was trying to impress you, and when I said I was, she said I was too thick for you. And I snapped back, telling her you said my outfit was cute.” The blinker clicked several times. It chose to pull off the main road and down a dark alley. “And then she said that it was most likely in a brotherly way. Which I knew it was bullshit because we’re friends and you were just hyping me up.”

“No, " the car stopped completely. You’re both wrong.”

When you turned your attention back on Choso, he unbuckled his seatbelt. “I-I was wrong?” you squeaked as he learned over the console. His thick, long fingers grabbed both sides of your face.

“Yeah, I meant it in an I have the biggest fucking crush on you, and I want to kiss the hell out of you kind of way.”

You breathed heavily as he brushed his nose against yours, closing the distance between you. “W-What a coincidence, I have the biggest crush on you too.” He hummed stray dark strands of hair, tickling your cheek. “A-And I would love to kiss you.” You were suddenly yanked forward, Choso’s lips on yours as he kissed you like you had never been kissed before.

You melted, and the sweet taste of mint flooded your mouth as he ran his tongue along your bottom lip. With a soft moan, you opened your mouth for him, shaking as his hands reached around you, grabbing the back of your head, forcing your lips harder against his as he deepened the kiss. His tongue moved feverishly against yours as he pulled you tight against his chest.

“M-mm!” You moaned, digging your fingers into his shirt, reciprocating the want that he had shown you.

Choso broke the kiss, first panting heavily as he glared at your hoodie as if it had insulted one of his brothers. “Take this off; I wanna see your body.” He growled, grabbing the fabric shielding you from his gaze, tugging it over your head, and throwing it somewhere in the backseat. “Oooh fuck.” He whispered, hands gliding over your shoulder, saying he took in an eye full of your beauty. “You’re so pretty.” His eyes slowly met yours as he yanked you over the console.

“W-Wait!” You yelped out, your roommate's words hitting you at a terrible time. “Hold on!”

“My windows are tinted. It’s fine.”

“That’s not it! I don’t want to crush you.”

“Honey,” you squeaked out another gasp as Choso bull-yanked you over the console of the car, flopping you down on his lap. “You aren’t going to crush me. Fuck.” He groaned as he laid the seat back. “Fuccck, you’re so pretty.” He whispered, running his hands over your beautiful curves, fingers gently caressing the stretch marks on your sides. “You have no idea how much I wanted this. To have you in my arms, kissing you, worshiping your beautiful body.”

You moaned, shaking slightly as you pressed his face and your breasts, kissing and nipping out your cleavage. “F-Fuck—” Shivers ran down your spine, and goosebumps littered your arms; your best friend continued to run his hands up and down your body, taking you in like this was the first time he saw you.

“You’re a masterpiece.” His hands grow up your ass, squeezing it. “I can’t believe I can finally admire your beauty up close and personal and not from afar anymore.” Choso ran his tongue over your breasts while his hands moved your hips, encouraging you to rock against him.

“C-Choso~ g-god me too; I‘ve wanted you for so long.”

“Then have me.”

Your hips automatically began rocking against the hardening bulge in his jeans, drawing out soft moans from the both of you. Each roll of your jean-clad shorts against him was like electricity, like fireworks going off at a summer festival. It was exciting and new, and each move was more exciting than the first, as you were both bound by rhythm, and that was perfect in no time. Choso’s fingers dug into your hips as your lips found his neck, nipping and sucking at his sensitive skin, growing out the prettiest sounds from him.

This felt like a dream, a dream that you had had many times. But the smell of spice and pine let you know that this was not a dream. It was reality, and it was a reality where your best friend was moaning underneath, you bucking his hips up against your core as you relentlessly ground down on him.

“Nngh~ fuck, that feels so good.”

“C-Cho, fuck you’re so hard.”

He laughed, and it was smooth and rich, like dark chocolate. “I’m always hard around you.” He admitted, his hands leaving your hips, slowly slipping under your shirt to grope and tease your breasts. “I like you so much. I liked you before you even sat next to me in class, f-fuck!” Choso cried out, throwing his head back as you sucked on his skin, leaving marks everyone would be able to see.

“Yeah~?”

“Fuck y-yeah, haaah,” you watched an ecstasy as his eyes rolled back into his. “I-I was working u-up the courage to talk t-to nngh!” A loud moan broke through his words as you rolled your hips in a circle over his hard cock. “Oooh, holy fuck—it’s hard to talk when you’re doing that.”

“Ooh, I’m sorry, honey.” You weren’t sorry in the slightest. “You can continue.”

Choso sucked in a breath through his clenched teeth. “I-I was working up the courage to talk to you, but you beat me.” He spat out before his voice broke as you rolled your hips faster against that hard bulge in his. “Fuck—c-confessions later, it’s hard to be serious when I’m trying not to cum in my pants.” Knowing that you already had them on the edge only encouraged your momentum.

“Ooh~ what stopping you from doing that?

“Heh, I don’t want to make a mess inside of my pants like a teenager again.” You rocked harder against him. “Fuck, but you seem determined.”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about messing up your pants; you could mess up my mouth instead.”

The confidence, the tone of your voice, and the friction were Choso’s downfall.

You felt him twitching his pants before bucking up relentlessly against you. And in that moment, you had never been more thankful than inseams and jeans. That perfect scene rubbed right against you in quite the ideal way, drawing shattering cries from you as you forward onto Choso’s chest and coming inside your panties, right along with him. The waves of pleasure left you twitching as your heart thundered in your ears.

After a few minutes of lying in the afterglow, you pulled away to look down at the man underneath you. He looked as dazed as you felt. His cheeks were flushed a pretty shade of pink, and his fingers ran lazily up and down your back. Choso looked like every dream he’d ever dreamt had just come true. It was a blissful expression, one that you fairly certainly mirrored.

“I should’ve told you a long time ago, I felt. And I’m sorry my confession came out under such shitty circumstances.” Choso whispered as he sat slightly, peppering your shoulders with kisses.

“I could’ve easily confessed to you, too; I was just nervous.”

“We both were.” He corrected, wrapping his arms around you. “But I want you to know I meant every word I said. I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen and my best friend.”

You take your bottom lip between teeth and smile shyly down at him. “You’re my best friend to Cho, and thank you for liking me for me.” He hummed, slapping your ass and drawing out a squeak from you.

“I wouldn’t have you any other way. And as much as I would love to keep you on my lap, I think we need to make a pit stop at my apartment before we go to the park. I need to change my pants.”

“Oor~ we could have a movie night in your bedroom? With no clothes on. Because believe it or not, leaving naked underneath, you would be a lot more cuter than this outfit when you agree.”

Choso turned red, not saying a word at first before his hands massaged your ass. “Get this sweet succulent in the passenger seat right now. We’re going back to my place.” And you were right; your crop top looked much better on his floor next to his clothes.

Ryomen Sukuna:

Gojo always found an excuse to go party at his luxurious house. His excuse this week was to celebrate his new puppy. It was an excuse everyone would gladly use to spend an evening dancing, drinking, and smoking. You and your roommate Sukuna were two of those people.

“Did You seriously bring a fucking gift for the dog?” your crimson-eye roommates snapped as he opened the door to Gojo’s house for you.

“For starters, her name is Kiki, and secondly, yes, I did.” you turn to look up at your towering roommate. His face tattoo is even visible in the low lights on the porch. “You drop the beer. I brought the gift. That’s what makes us a great team.”

Sukuna looked away; annoyance etched into his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, teammates.” he smacked your ass with the six-pack he was carrying, pushing you through the threshold. “Go on, teammate, get that ass of yours inside.” you barked out inside the crowded house and searched for your mutual friends. “Oi, I’m going to drop this off in the kitchen, okay?”

“Okay!” you yelled over the blaring music before venturing into the living room.

You spotted Satoru on the couch with a husky puppy sitting on his lap. Bright blue eyes met you as you approached. “Stop!” Gojo nudged a smoking Suguru, who choked on his hit. “Who the fuck is this sexy bitch?” Kiki barked almost in agreement as you grinned, handing the tug-of-war toy to Kiki, who sniffed it hesitantly before chewing on it approvingly. “Seriously, you look so hot. Did you get all dolled up for your asshole roommate?”

“No, I just felt like dressing up a little.” Dressing in a short red and black plaid skirt and a tight red T-shirt with something you rarely did. You weren’t exactly thin. Your butt was too big, your thighs pressed together when you walked, and your tummy was soft. You loved your body, all the dimples and stretch marks that came along with your curvy figure, but mostly showed off around the apartment wearing a tank top and dolphin shorts. You often wear leggings and an oversized jacket when you are out and about, but tonight was different.

Sukuna had been the one encouraging you to dress up, telling you to live a little and wear what you wanted. Initially, You hesitated, but you decided that maybe he was right. Life was too short to suffer inside of a hoodie!

“You look hot.” Geto chimed in, taking another hit from a blunt. “You should dress like that more often; I can feel the confidence radiating off you.”

“That's what I keep telling her.”

You smiled as your roommate came up behind you, draping his arm over your shoulders. “Maybe now you’ll believe me.”

“I don’t know, Sukuna; you should see how some of these guys look at her.” Gojo shifted Kiki to his other arm. “You might be going home alone tonight.”

“Shut the fuck up, Gojo.”

“I’m just speaking the truth!” Satoru shrugged the shoulder, pushing himself up. “Better act before someone else does.” Your roommate growled to ignore. “Now, if you excuse me, I have to take Kiki outside for potty training.

Before your friend could even step away, Shoko and Utahime hurriedly stepped in front of him. “Gojo, some delivery person is here with a three-tier cake, and he won’t bring it in until you sign for it.” A three-tier cake for a dog party?

Gojo looked between Shoko and his pretty husky. “Fuck, okay, let me put Kiki ou—” You stepped in, holding your arms out.

“I can take her out for you. I know how important potty training is for puppies.”

“Really, oh my God, thank you.” He pressed to kiss on top of Kiki’s head before handing her over to you. “Be good for your auntie. I’ll be back!”

“Hey, do you need me to come with you?” Sukuna asked as he nursed a beer.

“No, we’re all good!” Kiki probably turned you, licking your chin as you carried her to the backyard, replacing her down on the grass. “Good girl Kiki go potty, sweetie.” you praised her, the grass following her further out into the yard. “You’re such a pretty girl—”

“Did you see Sukuna’s roommate?” a voice called out from the back porch, and the door opened and closed.

“Who didn’t?” a man chimed in with a laugh. “You could spot that girl out in a heartbeat.”

“No shit! She’s a sore thumb compared to Sukuna! I honestly feel bad for him.”

Your stomach soured as you stayed out of sight of their cruel words. “Seriously, she should think before she dresses like that and when she’s around Sukuna on top of it! I would’ve been so embarrassed being seen with her in that skirt.”

Their choir of laughter had you sinking onto the grass. You thought your outfit looked good. Gojo, Geto, and Sukuna thought so, too, but maybe they were just being nice because they were your friends. These assholes had a point. Your roommate was so handsome, and you weren’t feeling the prettiest.

As Kiki sniffed the grass mindlessly before the door opened again. The assholes on the porch suddenly grew as you followed their gaze to Sukuna, who was looking around. They said nothing as he huffed out and sighed in annoyance.

“Have you guys seen my roommate?”

“No—I’m sure we would remember if we saw ‘her.’” one of the girls snickered, making you sink further onto the ground. Was this the part where your roommate joined in with their teasing? Making comments about your outfit? Being honest about what he thought.

You shut your eyes tight as you braced yourself for the truth. “What the fuck do you mean by that? Why are you laughing?” you perked up to look at a very pissed-off Sukuna.

“Well, let’s be honest, man, with her thighs, she shouldn’t be—”

The last words didn’t even get a chance to leave his mouth as Sukuna grabbed the asshole by the front of his shirt. “ I would think very carefully before the next words leave your fucking mouth.” you watched your roommate slam this dick against the wall of the porch. “That’s my girl you’re talking about.” his girl? Your cheeks flushed as you watched color leave the man's face.

“I-I’m sorry, man, I didn’t know!”

“Yeah? Well, now you do. Get the fuck out of my sight before I decide you’re not worthy of being in the same vicinity as me.”

The instant the assholes left, running inside with their tails between their legs, you picked yourself up off the grass, shuffling forward. Sukuna’s head lifted as he listened to your footsteps, turning his head and listening to you approaching him from behind. He scoffed, turning on his heel, leaning over the railing, and glancing at you.

“I’m going to take a while, guess, and say you heard everything those fuckers said.”

“Yep.”

“You know they’re full of shit, right?” You hummed, putting your hands behind your back because you stood below him, looking up at the porch. “I’m serious; they’re nothing but jealous pieces of shit. You’re beautiful.”

“And I'm also apparently your girl, too.”

Shock didn’t cross his features; his fingers curled in slightly as he kept his transfixed on you. “Yeah, I want you to be my girl. I'm tired of being this teammate to you. And I honestly don’t know how clear I can be about how I feel about you.” Now that he was being so blatant with his words, you were finally starting to see what he was talking about.

All the late-night cuddle sessions, the lingering touches on your hips when he passed you, how he looked at you sometimes. Your roommate had been flirting with you this whole time, and you hadn’t realized it until he called you his girl. It was almost embarrassing to be so blind to his advances, but there was a time to be embarrassed about that later. Right now, you wanted to focus on the words he had just said.

“Why?”

Sukuna shows no signs of confusion or fear. His face remains blank, like an empty canvas. “Why what?”

“Why would you even want me to be your girl? I mean, look at me.”

“I am.”

You flushed as you bore into his eyes. “Okay, and you see me, right? You heard that asshole say, I shouldn’t be wearing skirts; I stick out like a sore thumb compared to you. People, apparently, think I’m not good enough.” A shadow flashed across your face as your roommate leaked over the edge of the porch, landing on the grass in front of you.

“Ive wanted you from the second you walked into our apartment.” Sukuna grabs both your wrists, gently holding them in his hands. “Im so fucking attracted to you. You have the perfect fucking body. I want you. I would not be able to keep my hands off of you if you even gave me a chance to touch you.”

“K-Kuna—” You gasped as his arms sneaked around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “I-I— are you sure?”

Instead of responding to your question, Sukuna leaned forward, pressing his lips against the drawers in a kiss that could stop time itself. The lingering taste of alcohol made your head spin as he backed you up against the pool house, pressing you firmly against it, one hand gripping the side of your face while the other slammed against the door.

His lips moved feverishly against yours, and your wall slowly began to come down around him. You found yourself no longer hesitating as you remembered his words and how passionately he had spoken of you. Your hands, which had limply stayed by your side, lifted up, and your fingers ran through his hair. You pulled him more tightly against your chest. And it was an action that your roommate absolutely loved.

Feeling you getting into the kiss into the passion that he had felt for you for so long, made Sukuna snarl as he gripped your hips, lifting you up as he searched for the handle to the door of the poolnhouse. He was going to take you in there and take his time to show you just exactly how much you meant to him. And how much he wanted you.

But finding the handle turned out to be a lot more difficult when his lips were on yours. “Where the fuck is the stupid handle?” Sukuna growled out, pulling away from your lips for a second before slamming them back against you, stepping back an inch in search of the handle from a different angle.

“I think it’s the left.” You out in between breaths of air before your lips connected with him again. But as your roommate searched for the handle, he found himself drifting along the side of the house, which had been a mistake.

It was a mistake on both of your parts. When Sukuna went to put his hand down on the wall, he came into contact with nothing. He had unknowingly reached the edge of the pool house and found himself tumbling forward with you wrapped in his arms. You let out a scream of shock as water engulfed you, and you both fell into Gojo’s pool. But this slight hiccup didn’t stop you—notin the slightest.

The instant you broke through the surface of the water, both of you blindly searched for each other. When you felt his body heat, you threw your arms around your roommate's neck, holding him close as you wrapped your legs around his waist. This allowed him to freely carry you towards the back of the pool, where he slammed you against the cool pebble tech wall.

“Sorry about your outfit,” Sukuna growled as he pulled back just enough to allow him to pull your shirt up and throw it over your head on the patio.

“Does it look like I give a fuck about my outfit right now?” You asked, grabbing a hold of his shirt, tugging it up and over your head, tossing it into the water, allowing it to float somewhere off in the pool.

“No, I honestly don’t think you give a fuck about it.”

“Then why are we still talking about it?”

Sukuna smirked, licking his lips slowly. “Alright, I hear ya’ I guess I’ll go ahead and let my lips do the talking.”

While you both made out in the back of the pool, Gojo stepped outside, looking around for you as he picked Kiki up off the ground. “Hey~? You good? Please tell me you didn’t fall in my pool and drowned.” He was starting to step forward when the unstable sound of splashing water, followed by a string of moans, stopped him in his tracks.

Kiki yelped happily as Gojo snickered, heading into the pool house, grabbing a couple of fresh towels, and setting them on the pool deck near the steps. “Well~ it looks like he took my advice and finally stepped up and took some action,” Gojo told his pretty dog as he headed back into the house, dimming the lights around the pool, making your steamy session just a bit more romantic.

Nanami Kento:

“So it’s a date?” Shoko asked, watching you Finish applying some very light makeup to your face.

“It is not a date. Nanami Just happened to have an extra ticket to my favorite musical. We’re friends, and there’s nothing more than that.”

“Oh, he just happened to have an extra ticket to your favorite musical. But he’s also taking you to a fancy restaurant beforehand?”

“It’s one of his favorite restaurants, and he wanted to take me there.”

Shoko blew smoke from the window to your balcony, shaking her head. “Boy, I bet you’re in for the surprise of a lifetime tonight.” You shot your best friend an annoyed glance in the mirror.

“We’re just friends—” Even though you wanted to be more than friends with the handsome, sweet, caring blonde you had fallen head over heels for. “so drop it.”

“Nah, I don’t think I will.” Shoko put her cigarette out in the ashtray you had for her. “I cannot let you go on your date like—this.” She grimaced, eyeing your dress suit that skillfully hid your curves and thick thighs from the world.

You pouted, smoothing out the long skirt that went past your knees. “What’s wrong with it?”

“What isn't wrong with it? You look like a mother at her daughter's wedding. Or an elderly college professor. Or you look like you’re about to go in for a job interview, trying to make yourself look more professional than you are.”

Each very accurate comparison felt like a stab to your back. “Damn! Tell me how you feel. Sho, fuck.” She opened her mouth, and you quickly raised your hand, silencing her. “Wait, no, please don't,” Shoko smirked, crossing her arms over her chest. “Well, what do you suggest I do?” Shoko, head to your closet, opening the door wide.

“The red one.”

Nanami arrived at your door right on time. He took a deep breath, adjusting his burgundy tie, before knocking on the door. Tonight was the night he was going to confess how he felt, how he wanted to be more than friends. His nerves were strong as iron as he focused on the door. There was nothing in the world that would stop him.

Your door opened, and Nanami swore he felt like you had personally punched him in the gut. You looked stunning. The tight red fabric clung to your waist showing over your unique curves; his eyes trailed lower, and god, the dress's sides were slit open, allowing him to get a peek at your succulent thick thighs. You had never dressed like this around him before; by god, you were like a masterpiece right off a canvas.

“Kento, are you okay?” His eyes glued on you and you alone, leaving you slightly flushed.

Your best friend shook his head, blinking before his gaze met you. “Oh, uhm, yes, yes, I am.” He did another quick glance over you. “I’m sorry, I just, I’ve never—” His eyes were glued on the slit in the dress. His expression was almost unreadable, making you feel like shrinking in on yourself.

This was the first time you’d ever worn anything this revealing around him. Usually, you wore loose-fitting clothes, so wearing a form-fitting gown was different. Something that had rendered him speechless. Which could be a good thing or a bad thing. That was something you didn’t care to find out about.

“Different,” you answered for him instead, gripping your clutch as you stepped out. “So, uhm, should we get going?”

“Of course.”

That initial interaction had set the tone for your entire evening. The drive to the delicious restaurant was quiet with stolen glances. Ones solely focused on your hips and your thighs. You had hoped maybe things would settle down once you sat down to eat at the restaurant. But things only seem to progress into something more. Nanami’s eyes seemed to linger on other patrons at the restaurant who passed you by.

Maybe wearing this dress was a mistake. You felt exposed to your best friend in the entire world and anyone that passed by. You tried to focus on what Shoko had told you to envision when she pulled the dress from the back of your closet.

‘You’re a badass sexy bitch, own it!’

Yeah, owning it wasn't something you’d ever been comfortable doing. You had been a little thicker than others the entirety of your life. Dealing with that, being called names has taught you how to conceal yourself. If you wore all black and hid your supposed flaws behind layers of clothes, you would worry about anyone staring at you, which is exactly what everyone was doing.

Having people glance you over made your stomach sour as you tried to enjoy your food. You wanted to play it cool and make it look like nothing was wrong, but your attempts didn't go unnoticed. Nanami could see how you shifted; a visible unease etched into your pretty features.

That unease had you hugging yourself as you walked to the theater. You had hardly said a word to each other, and the tension felt thick. While you felt uncomfortable showing off so much, Nanami was beginning to think maybe you weren't having a good time. That's the last thing he wanted, so as you climbed the stairs heading toward your seats, Nanami stopped, tasting at your back.

Noticing he was no longer behind you, you stopped turning to look back at him. “Kento? Everything okay?” You tilted your head to the side, watching him look you up and down.

“No, l.” he quickly closed the small distance between you, gently grabbing your wrist and walking you to an empty part of the theater where no one was. “Everything isn't okay.” You opened your mouth to ask why he felt that way, but he beat you to it. “I'm sorry if asking you on this date has made things uncomfortable or weird for you.”

Date?

Wait, Shoko was right?! This really was a date?! Electricity shot went down your spine as your mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. No words came to you as Nanami sighed shyly, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked away.

“I’m sorry; I don't want you to feel as though you have to do this to appease me. We can see the show as friends and act like this nev—”

“No!” You yelled out, grabbing his hand and holding it. “No! I want this to be a date! I-I thought we were—going as friends.”

Nanami’s face relaxed as he looked down at your hand gripping his. ”I guess I wasn't as clear with my intentions as I thought.” Honey-brown eyes trailed over your exposed skin. “But may I ask you a question?” You nodded. “What’s made you so distant tonight.”

“Oh, I just haven't—I don't normally dress like this.” you motioned down to the silk dress, hugging your curves in all the right places. “And, I—ugh, it's silly.”

“It's not silly if it’s coming from you; please tell me, talk to me.”

“Well, you seemed stunned by my outfit. And you've been quiet all evening, staring at other people. So I thought maybe you were a bit embarrassed. I know I’m not the thinnest girl out there.”

In the blink of an eye, Nanami had you pushed against the nearest wall, out of sight from anyone who may pass you by. Both his large hands slammed against the wall on either side of your head, caging you in. You gasped, looking up to find a burning desire in his eyes that you had never seen before.

“Embarrassed? You seriously thought I was embarrassed?” His hand slowly trailed down your curves. “Darling,” he learned next to your mouth, the smell of wine and chocolate from dinner lingering on his breath. “I find you stunning. I'm more embarrassed by myself for letting my mind wander when it comes to how good you look in this dress. Do you know how hard it was to stop myself from gouging out the eyes of every man eye-fucking you at the restaurant?”

You began panting as his hand trailed lower, teasing the exposed skin that peeked out from the slit in the dress. “T-That’s why you were glaring n-nngh.” Nanami hooked his hand under your thigh, lifting it to actress your sensitive skin more freely.

“Yes, I couldn't stand the way they were undressing you right in front of me.” The warmth of his fingers sent shivers throughout your body. “But I’m afraid to admit I’m not better than them.”

“Oh, and why is that?”

“Because I have wanted to do nothing more than kiss you since you opened your door this evening. Your curves, dress fit, and everything about you are stunning, no matter what you wear. But seeing you all dolled up for the first time had left me longing for you in primal ways.”

You hooked your foot around the back of his thigh, watching his warm eyes grow wide as you grabbed his face, smashing your lips against his in a searing kiss. Nanami moaned, eyes fluttering shut as he dug his fingers into the fat of your thigh, squeezing and massaging it. The tender, careless feel of his lips against yours had you whining into his mouth as his tongue caressed your bottom lip.

The kiss was searing, full of desire, as Kento found himself shamelessly rocking his hips against you, trying to close the thin layers of clothes between you. Each kiss, each careless set your skin ablaze with need, as the taste of chocolate and white wine felt like fermenting into an aphrodisiac. With each kiss, you fell deeper and deeper into the passion, leaving you feeling drunk.

Nanami broke the kiss, pulling back far enough that a string of saliva connected your lips. “T-That was unexpected.” He admitted, fingers trailing further up your leg.

“But was it good?”

“It was the best kiss I’ve ever shared with someone. So yes, it was unexpected but good.” The way Nanami’s hands roamed over you left you feeling overly sensitive as you gripped his upper arms. “You're so beautiful. God, I wish I could take you home and truly worship every inch of your body.”

“Well, the show only lasts two hours.”

“Which is going to feel like a millennium when you're sitting next to me looking like some kind of goddess.”

“Goddess?” You mischievously grinned, running your hand slowly down his chest. “I like the sound of that.”

Nanami grinned, squeezing your thigh before leaning next to your ear. “After this show, can I take you back to my apartment and show my devotion to you? Worship your body as if it were your temple?” You moaned, melting like butter against his chest.

“Yes, god, I would love that.”

“Good, I‘ll be sure to worship you thoroughly.”

Gojo Satoru:

Gojo had a problem with your butt, and that problem was that he was obsessed with it. Every time you reached for something, your best friend made it a point to grab a handful of your big ole booty and squeeze it, which didn't bother you. If anything, you were flattered that this six-three muscular man likes your ass.

Because Gojo was gorgeous, with tufts of pristine white hair, cerulean eyes that reminded you of the blues oceans, and lashes you would kill for, having someone like him rubbing your ass was a cnficmsence booster. You adored him and knew deep down inside that adoration for him would never grow into something else because you were just friends, nothing more.

Because you were a curvy queen, and Gojo was a gym rat. It didn't matter if that butt squeezes and long hugs often left you fantasizing about a more romantic relationship with him. You could dream and fantasize about that as long as you wanted, but that reality probably would never come to be.

But that wouldn't stop you from secretly praying and hoping for that reality to be manifested.

Most of your girlfriends supported you both; they tried to get you to ask him out, while his friends felt the same way as yours. All of your friends could see you both getting together. But not everybody was as kind.

“Hello, dearie!” You shifted the brown grocery bags in your arms as you turned to look at your elderly neighbor and her grandson getting on the elevator with you.

“Hi, how are you?” You smiled sweetly as the elevator began moving up to the fourth floor.

“Oh, we're doing great! Where’s that boyfriend of yours? The tall, handsome one.”

Hearing her call Gojo, your boyfriend, left you feeling butterflies as you shifted the bags again. “Oh, Toru? He’s at the gym, and we’re just—” Her grandson scoffed, shaking his head as he rolled his eyes

“They're not dating grandma.”

“Oh, sure they are!” She grinned, tilting her head to look up at her rude grandson. “What even makes you say they aren't?”

“He’s fit and handsome, and she's got a fat ass and a gut.”

You winced at the sting of his words as the elevator stopped on your floor. “Takashi!” Your neighbor snapped at the older man, rolling his eyes. “That was rude! She's a beautiful young woman, apologizes.”

“Look, I’m sorry.” He shrugged as the three of you stepped off of the elevator. “I just know you ain't my type. I don't like,” he gestured over to you, “this.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean, I’m not into assholes myself.” You grinned sourly at the man before storming towards your apartment.

“Takashi!”

You ignored the pleading from your neighbor and the apologies she shouted. None of that shit mattered, not to you. You loved yourself and your body, and someday, you would find somebody who loved you for you. They would show up someday.

While you did your absolute best not to let the comments from the jerk bother you, your heart still aches as you put away your groceries. You hated men like him. Men who found it necessary to point out a woman’s flaws, to put them down.

It soured your mood, making you pout as you grumbled and shoved things in cabinets. You were fuming so much you barely heard the knock on your front or when the door unlocked courtesy of the spare key you had made. You didn’t realize anyone was there until hands grabbed your hips while loading the fridge. Fear rose in your throat as you began to scream, only to have a hand clasp over your mouth, silencing you.

“Easy, sweetheart! It’s just me.” The smooth, almost sultry voice had you relaxing as Gojo chuckled warmly behind you, his hand pulling away from your mouth. “You listening to music or something?” He questioned, dropping his chin on your shoulder to examine your ears, finding no earbuds.

“No.” You bluntly stated before pulling away from your best friend and shutting the door.

“Oof, someone’s angry.” The warmth of your best friend followed you as he wrapped his arms around your waist, squeezing you as tight as he could. “Angry that you hadn’t seen me in a while~?”

Your anger faded as the smell of clean linen and musk invaded your senses. You found yourself melting into his touch, tilting your head back to ring him, staring down at you with big sparkly eyes that glimmered with amusement. No matter your mood, Satoru always seemed to make you feel better

“I’m fine—it was just a crappy day.”

Gojo hummed, pressing his lips together as he swayed with you. “I’m sorry, Sweetie; what made it so bad?” You hesitated before groaning, knowing if you were to tell him the truth, it most likely would end with him doing something irrational. But you also hated lying to your best friend.

“It was just a lot of running around, going to the store.” You sighed. “Plus, I just haven’t been feeling good.”

In the flash of an eye, you were whipped around and turned to face Satoru, whose hand reached up to feel your forehead. “Are you okay?” He asked softly, continuing to think if you had a fever. “You aren’t dizzy? Feeling sick, are you?” Your cheeks burned, losing yourself in the concerned look in his eyes.

“N-No, not like that, not like that at all.”

Gojo pulled his hand away, dropping it to his side. “Okay, then, what’s wrong?” he asked, watching you carefully. That careful gaze had you frowning as you sighed.

“I feel a bit bad about myself.” When your best friend copped an eyebrow at you as if you were speaking another language, you sighed, smacking his arm playfully. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m having a hard time understanding why you feel bad about yourself.”

This time, you looked at him as if he was speaking some alien language. The man was cut out of a magazine. he was over six-feet tall had the most beautiful eyes, and he was handsome. There was no denying your best friend was good-looking. So, it only made sense that he wouldn’t understand how some people have insecurities about themselves.

Gesture vaguely towards his body, moving your hand up and down as you focus on the mirror behind him. The last thing you wanted to make contact with him at the moment. Because he might not be secure about himself, he can read you like a damn book.

“You wouldn’t understand what it’s like. You’re molded out of clay and given life by the gods themselves.” you moved your hand, gesturing to yourself. “I’m just curvy beyond all means. Unfortunately, not a lot of people are into that kind of thing. They don’t like a girl that’s bigger than them.”

Silence grew between you both as you tried to focus your attention on the mirror. Seeing him in such a state was shocking, but it was even more surprising to have him grab both your arms, squeezing them reassuringly.

Your mouth felt dry, and the room seemed to close in around itself as Gojo bent down closer to your height. In this situation, you weren't able to look away; Satoru made sure of that. You were stuck right where you stood, having to stare into the eyes of your best friend.

“Who said that?” he asked, in a tone that could freeze hell over.

“W-What?”

“I asked who said that load of bullshit to you so I can kick their ass.”

You flushed, shaking your head, not wanting him to beat up your neighbor's grandson, but the idea of it had you pressing your thighs together. Seeing your hesitant reaction left Gojo with a twisting sensation in his stomach. He knew something had been wrong when he wrapped his arms around you. Normally, you were touchy-feely, wanting to climb him like a tree, but today, you had been hesitant and standoffish, something he didn't like seeing you deal with.

“It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Toru—it isn't that—”

He gave you a firm shake. “It is a big deal! Especially when somebody hurts you.” With a heavy sigh, you reached up gently, placing your hand on the upper arm.

“Ugh, my neighbor thought we were dating, and I tried to tell her we weren’t, but her grandson beat me to it saying we aren’t dating. Because you're handsome, and I have a fat ass and a gut.”

“That—”

“I know its craz—”

“Motherfucker!” Gojo dropped his hands off your arms and growled, storming around the kitchen. You were too stunned to speak, just watching him closely as he grumbled and kept looking at the door that led out of your apartment, “I should kick his ass! I really should! That dick!”

You blinked several times, watching as the white-haired man fumed. “W-Wait, you're angry about him saying that about me?” That got Gojo to stop as he turned to gawk at you. “What?! I'm just shocked you'd care about that; I thought you’d be more embarrassed over the face his grandma assumed we were dating.” Your genuine shock and concern made Gojo grip the counter as he shook his head.

“The only person that doesn't think we're dating is you. Because God, I don't know how much more obvious I can be with you over the fact that I want to date you.”

“Y-You wanna date me?” You repeated back to him in stunned shock. “S-Since when?!”

“Since forever!” Gojo laughed out loud, shaking his head as he cock his brow at you. “I'm always over here, hugging you, telling you how much you mean to me. But every time I try to make a move, you toss me in the friend zone.

The words from your neighbor's grandson invaded your ears as Satoru stepped closer to you. “B-But I'm curvy, I have a gut!”

“And I love your curves and your tummy.” You stood still, allowing Gojo to cup your cheek gently. “Everything about you is perfect in my eyes. I wouldn't change a damn thing about you. Except for moving you away from that piece of shit.”

Your heart began to race at his confession, leaving you inching closer towards him. “Y-You're being serious right now. Are you not messing with me?” Gojo rolled his eyes so hard you could hear them roll into the back of his head.

“Sweetheart, I've been serious about you for years. You just were too blind to see that.”

For all these years, you'd always thought that Satoru was just overly affectionate with you. Knowing there was a legitimate reason for him constantly caressing you and talking sweetly to you, all of your insecurities faded as you felt his eyes roaming over your skin. You could tell he was serious. He wanted you.

“Maybe you could be a bit more direct with me then.”

“Oh? You want me to be more direct?”

Gojo wanted you to nod your head before he lifted you up and off the ground, placing you on the counter before kissing you deeply. Your eyes went wide at the sudden kiss, but you slowly found yourself melting into it, your hand gripping his tank top. You kissed him back with as much passion. Seeing that sort of expression, feeling your hands on him, only fueled the need in him.

Gojo growled as he grabbed your thighs, kneading them with a groan as he seeped the kiss. “You’re so pretty, so damn pretty.” He whispered against your swollen lips. “All these other boys are stupid.” You moaned happily as he trailed his hand up further, sliding them. “Which I’m so thankful for.” He trailed kisses along your jaw with a sigh. “God, I really wanna beat his ass for making the prettiest girl in my world feel like that,” he pulled back, glancing back at the door. “I really should go beat his ass.”

“I have a better idea” you grabbed his chin forcing him to look into your eyes this time. “How about you put your lips back on mine, and you kiss me and make up for lost time since I was so blind.”

Gojo grinned, picking you off the counter and carrying you to the couch, where he dropped you. He took a chance to look at all your beautiful curves. “God, you are so right.” He crawled on top of you, relishing in the way you whined and shivered. “We have lots of time to make up for, so you better clear your schedule because you are all mine until we’re both knocked out.”

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree

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cellophanejpeg · 9 months ago

Text

tell me, what's your size? | s. hanta

s: when a night in with your best friend turns into something more than just watching a shitty tv show, you start rethinking the friendship status of your relationship.

w: explicit sexual content, blowjobs, mentions of gossip girl lol

n: betaread by @jemifis 💕 read on ao3

previous | next

“This show is so stupid,” Sero says with a mouthful of popcorn, making you laugh.

“Oh, I know you love it,” you answer, nudging his shoulders.

“Aren't these characters supposed to be sixteen?!”

“Yeah, well.” You shrug.

“Why does a sixteen year old boy suddenly own a strip club?”

“It’s just a dumb show, Hanta.”

“And Vanessa is so annoying,” he continues, “she’s only getting in the way of Serena and Dan.”

You laugh, shaking your head. For someone who said he didn’t like Gossip Girl , he sure does care a lot about it.

“I mean, I feel her,” you say, grabbing more popcorn to eat, “if my childhood best friend got a girlfriend, I’d–”

You stop yourself, realizing you almost spilled the biggest secret of your life.

“You’d what?” He gives you a teasing smile and you shake your head quickly.

“Nothing,” you say, returning your attention to the television. “It’s just a stupid show, anyway.”

Sero scoffs, scooping more popcorn from the bowl sitting in the middle of you two. You sneak a peak and watch the veins of his forearms as he brings the snack to his lips and licks the salt in there. His back is curved and he’s wearing a loose t-shirt, the same one you keep in a drawer in your bedroom in case he decides to show up and spend the night.

A scenario that has happened many times before.

However, it’s different this time. It’s been a couple of weeks since you had sex with him, and it only intensified your feelings for him. You can’t stop noticing the small details about him, like the way he bites the corner of his bottom lip when he’s focused on something in a very adorable way, or the way his hands wrap around the steering wheel when he drives. How his throat bobs when he has a drink, or how his chest looks in his skin-tight hero suit.

Small things that turn you on.

Sero kept his promise, though. He promised your friendship wouldn’t be ruined and it would be like nothing had happened. And, the next day, when you woke up at his place, wearing a big shirt of his, he made you breakfast and you talked about anything other than the night you spent together. While you’re glad things didn’t change, you got this feeling deep in your guts.

Or better, in the middle of your legs.

You want to do it again. Your first time was perfect, nothing to complain about. But you’d be lying if you said you haven’t thought about the many other positions and things you want to try. But the subject never came up and now it’s been three weeks, and you’d feel awkward if you did talk about it.

“A picture lasts longer, you know,” Sero suddenly says, making you jump back to reality. A nervous laugh escapes your lips and you turn your gaze back to the television, “What’s wrong?”

You shrug, “Nothing.”

Sero narrows his eyes, watching your profile in the dimly lit room. The blues and yellows from the TV reflect on your skin, giving you a special glow. You look beautiful like this, he thinks, no make up, dressed in just your pajamas. The spaghetti strap of your top falls off your shoulders and he has to hold himself not to put it back in its place. Because if he does, he won’t be able to get his hands off you.

Oh, how he missed the feeling of your skin against his. Your lips on his, your fingers gripping him tightly, your hot breath on his ear…

He swallows hard, clutching the bowl of popcorn tighter to hide his sudden erection. You look back at him with an amused smile.

“A picture lasts longer, you know,” you mirror his words, mocking his voice. When Sero doesn’t laugh, your smile fades away, “What?”

He shakes his head, but holds his gaze, “Nothing.”

You're the one who ends up breaking eye contact, looking back at the TV, but not really watching the show. Because, right now, you can't stop thinking about his lips on your neck, a ghost of a memory from that night.

“Hanta,” you call his name, eyes still on the shitty TV show.

“Yeah?”

“Do you ever think about that night?”

He widens his eyes as his head snaps back to face you, but you keep looking at the TV, although you feel his intense stare. A single pause hangs in the air before he answers.

“Yes.”

You hold your breath, inhaling deeply, preparing yourself for what you want to say next.

“Do you ever want to repeat it?”

“Yes,” the answer comes immediately. “Do you?”

Warmth spreads on your cheeks as you look back at him. You've never seen such hunger in his eyes, such desire. His pupils are blown out, his chest rises and falls quickly with anticipation, his face has a rouge rubor on the cheeks.

“Yes,” you answer, and then it happens quickly.

The bowl of popcorn is on the floor, the contents of it all over the rug, but you don't care. Because Sero’s lips are on yours in a second, his hands cupping your face strongly, but not enough to hurt. He slips his tongue past your lips and you allow him, having missed the taste of him so much. Sero leans over you, forcing you to lay back on the couch as his hands slip under your pajama top, cupping your breasts as if you're going to run away. A gasp escapes your lips once you pull away from him for a second.

“Wait!” You say, pushing him away. He looks at you with confused eyes, but pulls his hands away from you. “Can I… can I suck you?”

Sero almost chokes on his own spit, but manages to swallow back the grunt that made its way to his throat, “Are-are you sure?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, pushing him away and sitting on the couch as your lips reconnect with his again. You’re getting good at this; Sero’s hands try to grab your hips, but you’re already kneeling on the floor, in between his legs.

“Angel…”

“Guide me through it?” You don’t let him change his mind, your shaky hands reaching to pull the elastic band of his sweatpants down.

His half hard cock sits pretty on his lower stomach and your mouth is already watering. With a hesitant hand, you gently grab his shaft and start stroking it.

“What do I do?”

When you look back to him, Sero has a hand on his mouth, face beet red, in a way you've never seen before. He's holding back his groans and his erection only grows as your delicate hands wrap around it.

“Hanta?” You stop your movements and look back with concerned eyes.

“Hold it more on the tip,” he finally says, and you obey, adjusting your grip on him, “Your– Rub your thumb on the slit in the head…”

With a frown of concentration, you rub the pad of your thumb where he told you to. Warm, clear liquid comes out of his cock, coating your finger and you stop for a second to observe it. Then, you bring your thumb to your lips, wrapping around the digit and tasting the salty fluid.

“Fuck, Angel,” Sero moans at the sight, “T-try licking it up.”

He wasn't expecting this. Your sudden confident – and curious – attitude turns him on in a way he never thought it would. Yes, he imagined you kneeling before him many times, but he didn't think it would happen like this. He thought you would need more convincing, but it was a surprise that you brought it up.

You stick out your tongue and give an experimental lick on the tip of his dick, tasting the salty, strange texture of it. Sero moans as you try again and again, until your lips are wrapping around him.

“Oh, shit,” he whines as you try to get more of him in your mouth, your drool starting to cover the length of him, “Yes, baby, just like that.”

You gently bob your head up and down, as his hand rests on the top of your head, encouraging you to go deeper. Sero throws his head back, beads of sweat gathering on his forehead as his breathing gets heavier.

“Stroke what you can't suck, angel.” He grows more confident as you do what he says. You're so eager, so curious to learn, and that not only makes him harder, but also makes him feel almost proud of you. When the tip of him reaches your throat, you slightly gag, pulling away. He looks concerned as he asks, “Woah, are you okay?”

You nod, taking a deep breath, and starting over, licking him up, stroking him, and wrapping your lips around him. Your pace grows quicker and more intense, and Sero doesn't think he can hold himself anymore.

“You're gonna make me come.”

When you look back at him, he's covering his mouth as he stares at you, a deep shade of red still painting his cheekbones.

“Should I swallow?” You ask, looking into his eyes. Sero involuntarily bucks his lips and groans, closing his eyes and throwing his head back on the couch again, “Hanta?”

He swears he tries to answer, but when your pretty hands are wrapped around him, it's hard to concentrate. He babbles a response, but you don't quite understand it.

“Huh?”

“Yes!” He snaps, looking back at you with desperate eyes, “Swallow everything, like the good girl you are!”

The words send a wave of arousal through your body, straight to the middle of your legs. You work harder, until he's moaning and whining your name, bucking his hips uncontrollably into your mouth. With a final jerk upwards, you feel Sero's cock twitch in your mouth as he reaches his climax. A warm, thick liquid fills your mouth, and the sensation is odd - but your urge to have his semen coat your throat is overpowering, and you quickly work to swallow it all. In an attempt to down every last drop, you continue sucking and lap at the tip with your tongue, causing Sero to whine out and thrust into you a couple more times while riding out the wave of his orgasm.

Once the man's movement stops, you slowly lift yourself from him. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, and look up to see Sero's flushed expression, his head tilted back, eyes closed and mouth slightly open, still panting. A few seconds pass with the both of you catching your breath, before Sero moves to look at you again.

“Shit, baby,” Sero breathes out, grabbing your face and gently pulling you up to stand, and smashes his lips on yours harder than ever. You barely notice the way he pulled your shorts down, leaving you naked from the waist down.

He pulls you to straddle him, each leg beside his thighs, deepening the kiss and hugging you close, grabbing your hips, thighs and ass. You whine as he squeezes your buttcheeks hard, pushing your hips against his.

“How did I do?” You ask, after pulling away from him, gasping for air.

“You did amazing, angel.” Sero smiles down at you. “I have to pay you back.”

A yelp escapes your lips when he wraps his arms around you and moves to lay on his side on the couch, taking you with him. He lets you adjust your legs, so one is not crushed under his and the other is wrapped around his hip. One of his arms serves you as a pillow, while his other hand snakes through your body. He doesn’t waste time, and dips his fingers in between your folds.

“Fuck, look how wet you are already,” he says, coating his fingers with your arousal and rubbing the most sensitive part of you, earning a whine from your lips. He muffles it with his own lips as he pushes a finger inside you, having you tense your muscles for a moment and then relax into his arms. Pulling you closer, he adds another finger in and curls them both. You think you see stars under your eyelids as he hits a spot you didn’t even know it existed.

“Hanta,” you murmur into his lips and that only makes him press into you harder.

“It’s okay, angel, just let it go,” he whispers, “you did so well today, you deserve this.”

Your moans echo through your apartment walls as you come, clamping around his fingers.

“Good girl.” He praises you, riding your orgasm down, until you calm down again, “Good girl, angel.”

Sero kisses your forehead and holds you in place for a moment before pulling his fingers out of you. You don’t push him away and he doesn’t let you go from his embrace. It’s nice here, his warm skin and distinct smell makes you want to live in his arms forever. It takes a moment for you to remember you are just friends.

“Sero…”

“Yeah?”

You pause, burying your face in his neck. “Someone’s gotta clean the floor.”

He bursts in laughter as you refer to the popcorn on the floor.

“I’ll do it.” He intends to stand up, but you hold him in place.

“Later,” you mumble, indulging just a little more in his presence.

“Yeah,” he laughs, “later.”

#sero hanta x reader #hanta sero x reader #sero x reader #mha x reader #my hero academia x reader #bnha x reader #sero hanta #sero #gabiwrites.txt

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dameronspector · 28 days ago

Text

Willow (chapter 4)

Pairing: Bob Reynolds x Fem!ExAvenger!Reader

Chapter Summary: You manage to escape the vault and everyone is in awe of you, Bob does something drastic and you do something even more drastic to save him, which does not end well.

Warnings: Mentions of Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Death, Gunshot, Guns, Bullet wounds, Dead bodies of cops but ACAB so idc, Injuries, Fight scenes, Reader uses her powers, Canon-typical violence, that First Flight scene from the movie, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Cursing, Found Family, Reader is mentioned to be short, John Walker is bearable here, like an elder brother (love you wyatt), light soulmate AU vibes, Reader has magical abilities of the goddess Hecate (eg: necromancy, pyrokinesis, hypnokinesis, dark magic, etc. you can find the rest on rioridanwiki!), that’s all i think!

PS: this is a work of fiction. I don't own any of these characters and I have made some changes to fit the storyline better and because it's an AU. I have taken all the information from google and riordanwiki. Incase I have gotten anything wrong, please let me know!

You're not sure why, but there was a weird tug in your stomach ever since all of you separated. As if your gut was warning you, that something was going to go side ways. And apparently it was visible on your face because John kept glancing at you warily, as the two of you made your way out of the dark lobby and through the endless corridors.

Eventually, you got annoyed of his persistent staring.

"Just say it, Walker, and stop staring at me for gods' sake", you mumbled in irritation, keeping an eye out for any ambushes.

John pursed his lips, "You've got this, weird face on", his hands gestured towards his own face to emphasize it.

The two of you hid behind a secluded corner and waited for Yelena to turn the lights back on.

You narrowed your eyes at him, "Are you calling me ugly?"

John scoffed, "If I wanted to call you 'ugly', I'd just say that. No, I meant, you've got that 'oh no, I'm sensing something dangerous' kinda vibe going on right now."

You exhaled through your nose before peeking around the corner.

"You're right for once", you quipped and John made a face.

"You can do that?", he grumbled, busying himself with strapping the non-vibranium shield tightly around his forearm.

You hummed absently, eyes closing for a brief moment of meditation, preparing yourself for the fight.

John looked at you and chuckled, "You don't have to do all that. I'll protect you", he declared smugly.

You slowly opened your eyes and smirked, making him shift uncomfortably.

"You know Yelena sent me to protect you, right? And you know, my powers are the strongest at night, right?", your eyes glowing a bright purple as you said that. He had no idea that you had just charmed him, intimidating him with a mere eye contact.

John froze before clearing his throat, shifting away from you. You burst out laughing, quiet laughs shaking your shoulders as you leaned against the wall. John grumbled in response when suddenly, his back straightened up. You paused, hearing light footsteps make their way through the lobby. You nodded your head at John to signal Yelena.

"Turn on the lights, Yelena", he instructed her through the comms, body tensed as he pressed himself flat against the wall. You stood right next to him, your fingertips glowing lightly as the adrenaline rushed through your body.

You waited for a few more seconds. The lights didn't turn back on. John grew agitated as the footsteps came closer and closer.

"Yelena, turn the lights on", he murmured into the comms, his teeth gritted in irritation. You kept rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet, the anticipation and loss of a sense, sending your instincts into overdrive.

Yelena did not reply and the lights didn't turn back on. You caught the reflection of a laser streak and patted John's arm to bring his attention to it.

He cursed lowly and turned his comms off, telling you to do the same before gesturing with his hands to cover his six. You nodded in agreement, switching the comm off and letting the purple glow take over you, your hands covered in bright, sparkling tendrils. The dark was helping you immensely, as you could practically feel the power rushing through your blood, making you feel more energetic than normal.

John stepped out first, gunning down two soldiers at a time before holding his shield up and walking down the hallway. It was suspiciously empty, your footsteps echoing through it and your ears ringing with how quiet it was. As you passed that corridor and turned, the two of you were stopped by a series of thundering footsteps from behind.

"Surrender right now! Hands behind your heads!", a man barked from behind you and you froze, John turning around to point the gun at the soldier.

"Fuck, there's too many of 'em", John mumbled as he took in the squad of soldiers pointing their guns at you two, the lasers making small red dots dance on your bodies. John was getting ready to jump into a fight, when you stopped him.

"You go, I'll handle this", you whispered to him, keeping your eyes on the squad in front of you. He hesitated, looking at you in surprise.

"(Name), don't be stupid-"

"John, trust me this one time, please. I'll be fine", you reassured him.

He took one last look at you and the corridor full of soldiers donning thick, black combat suit, before running in the opposite direction. The squad attempted to run after him, but you held your hands out, eyes glowing and hands shooting bursts of magic that wrapped around the group.

"What the fuck-", one of them cursed, and the two soldiers in front fired at you, the bullets ricocheting off the barrier around them and lodging inside their bodies instead. They grunted, their blood spraying on the soldiers behind them before they fell dead by your feet.

The corridor was completely silent now, the men looking at you in fear and awe, the faint humming of your powers being the only thing heard.

You smirked, tilting your head to the side, "It's time for a little trip to the past."

They bristled, eyes blown wide with confusion and watched you murmur an incantation in Greek. A mist slowly engulfed them, spreading through the entire hallway and they looked at it in wonder. You casted an illusion of the Ultron war, placing the group right in the middle of a stampede, a crowd that was being chased down by the machines-out of place, out of time.

Sealing the mist with a forcefield, your eyes returned back to normal as they yelled out expletives and orders, firing at nothing as the bullets bounced off and hurt them instead. Inhaling deeply, you turned around and made your way back to John, conjuring an electric, purple ball of magic guide you to him.

"It's me! John!"

"Where were you?!"

"The explosion fried the wires!"

"I told you! Too many variables! I knew it!"

"And then you didn't wait."

"I did wait!-"

"Guys... where's (Name)?", Bob nervously broke off the argument between Yelena and Walker, his hands fiddling with the gas mask as wild eyes fluttered around the darkened room, looking for you.

They stopped bickering, Yelena whipping around to tear a new one for Walker, when you came up from behind him.

"I'm here, don't worry", you reassured them, the three of them staring at you in shock because you looked like you took a walk in the garden. Completely normal, not breaking a sweat and hair still intact in that hairstyle of yours.

"What? You're done? They didn't follow you..?", John asked, glancing behind you to make sure you weren't followed. Yelena stared at you in curiosity, Bob in awe.

You shrugged, "They're not waking up anytime soon."

Yelena and John exchanged a surprised look.

"Okay...well. We will need to change into these suits and sneak out. Ghost lady will be there with a vehicle, hopefully", Yelena instructed as she began removing the suit and accessories of one of the dead soldiers.

"Uh...You guys continue, I'll join you outside. Keep an eye on Ava", you announced and turned around to leave, when John stopped you.

"Whoa, whoa! Just because you have powers, doesn't mean you can just walk out like that!", John chided you.

You looked at him blankly before holding your hand palm up, a mist emerging from your palm before letting it engulf you fully.

Bob and Yelena's eyes widened.

"Holy shit."

"Whoa!"

John stared at you dumbfoundedly, his mouth dropped open.

You had created an illusion of one of the dead soldiers, Your face and body morphed to look like his. You raised an eyebrow at John who scoffed but didn't say anything else.

Bob was ready to worship you, because that was the coolest fucking thing he's ever seen.

"That was- you're so amazing...", he said quietly, his eyes sparkling with wonder. Yelena looked at him in suspicion, adoration for you oozing off of him and she smirked.

You simply looked at Bob and smiled. Bob felt weird that it was that dead soldier's face looking back at him but it was still you, so he smiled back in a dopey manner.

Giving the three of them a two fingered salute, you walked out of the building confidently.

As soon as you stepped out, a soldier flanked you down and asked you about the situation inside. You told him that you did the best you could, that half of the team was dead and he just patted your shoulder before letting you go, too distracted to pay attention to you.

Taking that as your opportunity, you slipped past the crowded area and looked for Ava where the vehicles were parked.

You managed to find an empty truck and turned on the comms, informing John about the same and stood in front of the truck to help them notice you.

They managed to dodge any questions and bee lined to the truck. They made Bob sit in the back, John already walking around the front to sit at the wheel.

“Get in”, Yelena urged Bob and pushed him inside, you helping her keep the door open while keeping an eye on the field.

“You gonna be okay back there?”, John asked from the driver’s seat.

“Yeah”, Bob reassured him, settling in and already fiddling with the huge mask covering his face.

“Yeah?”, Yelena asked again, Bob nodding his head positively before she turned to you.

“Why are you standing here? Get in-”

“You’ll get stopped while leaving. I’ll be there to clear you, I’m one of them, remember?”, you informed her, eyes flicking towards Bob to check on him. He was staring at you in worry.

“Are you sure you’re gonna be okay?”, he asked hesitantly.

“I don’t want you to unnecessarily risk it, (Name)”, Yelena added.

You paused before patting her shoulder.

“I’ll be fine. Go sit”, she looked at you in worry for a last time, before making her way over to the front.

You were about to shut the door when Bob stopped you, a hand splayed on the door.

“Please, don’t do something heroic. Even though you look like-like a goddess when you do it”, he blurted out, his eyebrows furrowed in worry.

Your heart was beating faster, your face heating up at his comment.

Giving him a tiny smile, you squeezed his arm gently and closed the doors, him watching you go longingly.

“Identify yourself-”

“I cleared them. They’re alright to go.”

Everyone turned to look at you in doubt, the main officer questioning you now.

“Captain Johnson, we still need an identification, that’s standard procedure.”

“Yes, I’m aware, officer. But they have a medical emergency so I thought-”

The man stopped you from talking. You held the rifle tighter in your hands, John watching the whole thing wearily.

“No. This is a serious situation, you should’ve taken permission before allowing them to leave like that”, he turned his attention back towards John, “Identify yourself, immediately. Military order”, he boomed and you cursed inwardly.

Just as you were going to use your charmspeak on him, John decided to be a loser.

“No.”

Your eyes widened behind your mask, hands gripping the rifle even more tightly to control yourself from blasting off John.

The officer straightened up, “Remove your helmet and identify yourself now, soldiers”, his voice stern.

You were signing John to shut up and let you conceal them when he said something stupid again.

“You're messing with the wrong-”

“Hey!”, a voice echoed from the direction of the vault and all of you snapped your heads at that.

Then, a series of gunshots fired in the air.

You felt a tug in your chest again, making your way towards the back of the truck, you saw that the doors were left open and then-

A series of gunshots went off again. You whipped your head around to see Bob, surrendering himself, armed with a rifle and firing loose shots in open air. He had a delirious look on his face.

Bright lights zeroed in on him and a squad of soldiers held him at gun point, forming a semi circle around him.

Your eyes widened, heart thundering against your chest.

“No..no no no”, you kept chanting as you observed his panicked state and the soldiers bracing for attack.

“Where’s (Name)?”, John asked, looking around for you.

Yelena looked outside the window somberly and sighed, “There.”

The three of them watched you run across the field, getting closer to Bob, when the soldiers fired and the bullets hit Bob’s torso directly.

There was this painful ache in your chest. The way he had just…given up? The desperate cry of help swimming in his eyes was impossible to ignore. But the way he had just...thrown himself into the lion's den, just like that. Like he didn't matter. The thought left an odd and bitter taste in your mouth, your body alight with this sudden urge to protect him fiercely.

But why did your heart hurt so much as you watched the soldiers ruthlessly gun him down?

“NO!”, you yelled as you broke the illusion, letting the bursts of your power carry you towards him and blocking the rain of bullets with a pulsing force field, your body tense with anger. The entire area was lit up in purple, the air buzzing with magic, a strange feeling of fear and doom overtaking everyone around you. Your hair had come undone from the neat hairstyle, really binding together the rage you felt as your eyes glowed with an angry flame.

“Holy shit”, Ava exclaimed, John and Yelena watching you in shock, Mel walking backwards in fear and Valentina barking orders to ceasefire, her wide eyes trained on you and Bob.

In your daze, you didn’t notice Bob hitting the ground behind you. The firing suddenly stopped, the area shrouded in silence and that’s when you noticed something move behind you. You turned around and broke your force field in shock.

You almost expected to be greeted by the gruesome sight of Bob’s bloody and motionless body. But instead, he was standing up, completely unhurt, except for his thin shirt torn in holes from the bullets, the lower half of his shirt completely open.

You gasped, turning around to watch him and the sliver of abs poking through his torn shirt. First of all, how the fuck did he survive those bullets.

Second of all, he was fucking ripped.

Who was he? What was he?

You felt that magnetic force again, the same one that you had felt in the vault, as if the air was buzzing with extraordinary power and force-a power that was indescribable, indestructible and dangerous.

He looked down at his torso, and when he looked back up at the soldiers, brown curls framing his forehead and eyes, which were turning into that golden eclipse again, his face shaking with how hard he was clenching his jaw, adam’s apple bobbing harshly in his throat.

You furrowed your brows, eyes raking through his body for any other signs and when your gaze fell on his feet—they were off the ground.

He was fucking levitating.

"What..", you whispered in disbelief, watching his body lift off the ground slowly.

"Bob-", you tried reaching for him. But he shot up in the sky. Like a kryptonite, leaving behind a cloud of dust.

You craned your neck up, stretching it impossibly in hopes of catching a glimpse of him. He was not ordinary. He was something special. A god himself. You were so immersed in that moment, that you didn't notice a soldier lift up his rifle and take a shot at your shoulder.

You howled in pain, grabbing your shoulder tightly and dropping down to your knees, the fabric of your suit catching on the rocky ground.

John was gripping the steering impossibly tight, his face awash with horror and sorrow.

"Fuck-we can't leave her behind!", Yelena cried out.

"John-", Ava tried but he interrupted her.

"We can't, guys. We need to get out of here, and get help for the both of them, before Valentina does something crazier. Let's go", he managed to choke out, his face glum. You were a good kid. You had a lot of heart and courage, and he respected you for that. He just hoped they could save you and Bob.

He drove off the truck before anybody else spotted them, Ava and Yelena looking up at Bob's figure shooting across the sky like a meteor.

Meanwhile you were lying flat on your back, your hand covered in your own blood, whimpers leaving your mouth as the pain became too much for you to even concentrated on retaliating. You felt some of the blood trickle down, making your suit stick to the wound and some of it transferring to your hair, the smell of iron hitting your nose sharply, before it pooled below you.

You helplessly stared at the night sky, noticing a shooting star zoom across it-Bob. Your chest collapsing in on itself from the agony from the pain and worry for him. As your half conscious mind registered two hands lift you up, you barely took notice of the loud crash, before promptly passing out from the blood loss.

“No, no, no, no! Just when I'm getting my team together. Mister soldier, you are making a serious mistake”, Alexei protested, his voice booming in the empty, run down store.

Bucky had saved them from the defence squad and had blown up Alexei’s beloved limousine, at the same time. And now he had tied all of them up, keeping them ‘hostage’ in a run down store in the middle of nowhere.

They kept yapping about this team, and the vault but Bucky had only one thing to worry about: you. He did go back to your apartment. And he did see your note. Then he tracked you, and found out that you were there in the vault.

Originally, he had panicked. Sam had trusted him to look after you. How was he going to face him? How could he let that happen to you? He had come to care for you like you were his own. And now? Now you were nowhere to be seen. You weren’t at home, you aren’t here with these people, what was he going to do? These thoughts plagued him, and these losers weren’t helping, at all.

“Save it for the committee. I don’t care. Where’s (Name)? I know she was with you all”, he gritted out, hands on his hips and sharp gaze burning a hole through each of them.

“(Name) was taken away by Valentina. They…”

“They what?”, Bucky asked urgently.

Yelena exchanged a look with Ava, John looked away from Bucky’s intense stare.

“They shot at her. Her shoulder was injured, I think”, Yelena added guiltily.

“Fuck”, Bucky cursed lowly, his eyes shut tightly.

“What committee?”, Alexei asked in confusion.

“Dad!”, Yelena groaned.

Bucky took a few seconds to gather his thoughts before continuing, “All of you are evidence in the impeachment against Valentina.”

All of them shifted in discomfort before Ava spoke up, “We don't even work for Valentina anymore. She tried to kill us.”

Bucky clenched his jaw.

“We were ordered to destroy all of her secrets. Actually sent us to kill each other in this vault”, John added.

“But then we met Bob. There was a man in the vault. She's done something to him. It's called Project Sentry”, Yelena continued.

“He shot up into the sky, he exploded and then crashed into this mountain, and then he died, didn't die”, Ava shrugged.

“Yeah, I got it. He's very, very scary”, Bucky drawled, frankly uninterested in this story because his mind was swirling with horrible thoughts and worry for you.

“Good, Congressman Barnes”, John quipped arrogantly,

Bucky walked closer to the group, his voice scratchy as he spoke in a low tone, “It's okay, Walker. What's that supposed to mean?”

“It means you know me, Bucky. So cut the crap and listen to what we're trying to tell you”, John hits back.

“Yeah, I know you, John. And you made your choices. I know it's been tough since Olivia left you and took your son, but anyway, this one’s on you”, Bucky retorted.

Yelena looked at John in shock. Why did he brag about his picket white fence life back in the vault?

John looked at her in resignation, shrugging in a way that said ‘it is what it is.’

“And I don’t care about Valentina…or this…guy…I just need to know if (Name) is safe. So, as along as she is an important aspect in this situation, I’m in. Otherwise, I’m out of here”, Bucky conceded, his tone firm.

“Bucky, there won't be any committee, Okay? There might not even be a government. She has some big—”

“Yeah, I got it. His name is Bob or Sentry and he flies. Right? And all of you are heroes going after Val, ready to save the day. You're chasing her together”, Bucky waved Yelena off, tired of the same old explanation that they were giving, his irritating seeping into his words.

“We were just trying to get home. Alive, actually”, Ava interrupted.

Bucky made a face of disdain, “That's even more pathetic. Alright, the plane lands in six minutes.”

Suddenly, his phone rang. He immediately picked it up as he saw Mel was calling him.

“Yeah?”

“Bucky, I need your help”, came her hushed voice from the other side.

Bucky straightened up, keeping an eye on the group, “What is it?”

“Val has gone off the rails. I'm talking about Project Sentry. It's not just a failure; it's dangerous.”

“Project Sentry?”, Bucky asked, the group looking at him with wide eyes.

“And this guy is a disaster waiting to happen.”

“What guy?”, Bucky asked distractedly, his mind still catching up with this mess. Blame his old age or whatever.

“Bob.”

“Bob!”, the four people in front of him yelled in unison, surprised at Bucky’s nonchalance.

Bucky glared at them, his nostrils flaring.

He turned his attention back to the call, deciding to ask Mel about you, “Mel, where’s (Name)?”

She hesitated before giving up and telling him the truth, “In the hospital wing. Don’t worry, she’s stable now, but she lost a lot of blood, so she’s unconscious. They shot her in the shoulder and the bullet left her body so, no infection or anything.”

Bucky heaved out a sigh, his eyes closing in temporary relief.

“We're at the old Avengers compound. The press is coming tomorrow morning. Someone has to do something—Shit, okay, I gotta go. But come now, please. Bring whoever you can, everyone you can”, Mel ended the call in a rush.

Bucky glanced around the room in contemplation. A hand holding his phone and the other hand rested on his hips, his jaw rolling in tension. The group looked at him and each other in anticipation, the room falling into an awkward silence.

“Sentry”, Bucky deadpanned.

“It's Bob, Bucky!”, the four of them groaned.

Bucky shook his head and made his way over to where they were all sitting, bending down to release Ava first.

“I'm letting you go. You're coming with me.”

Ava looked at him in surprise, “Why?”

“For glory!”, Alexei boomed.

“Well. you know Valentina. She has this thing out there. People are going to get hurt. And I need to stop her. And you're going to help me”, he announced as he made his way around the group, releasing Alexei, Yelena and John as well.

Yelena looked at him incredulously, “Wait, us?”

“Why? You got somewhere to be?”, Bucky sassed.

She shook her head in disagreement, “Bucky, you got the wrong people..”

He sighed, voice taking a softer yet stern tone, “Look, I've been where you are. You can run, but it won't get you far. Sooner or later, it'll catch up to you. And when it does, it'll be too late. So you can do something about it. Do it now or live with it forever. Stop her and save Bob, hm?”

He knew what they were struggling with. He’s been there, done that. Suddenly, he felt like an older brother to all these people. The words of advice pouring out of him sincerely, his heart reaching out to them.

He laughed internally as he thought about how you’d tease him if you were here. He missed you. He hoped you were okay.

All of them exchange hesitant looks with each other, Alexei looking at them with hopeful eyes before Yelena nodded in agreement.

Alexei lit up like a Christmas tree.

“YEAH! Yes! YES!”, he bellowed.

The rest of them covered their ears in response.

Bucky groaned, how and why was he supposed to babysit these grown adults, was beyond him.

He was simply going to rescue you from Valentina’s clutches and dip, ASAP.

Chapter 5

AN: can u tell I’m having too much fun w reader’s powers and the Soulmates thing heheheeee 🤭 We will get more Bob and R content from next chapter, i promise!

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megapteraurelia · 3 months ago

Text

EPITHIMIA. — talisman #1

☾ SUMMARY;

— having been sent up to tokyo as an exchange student to spy on the first-years, your objective had been crystal clear: don't meddle. don't change anything. just observe. you didn't expect fushiguro megumi to foil your plans that quickly — but it's not like you could help yourself, not when he refused to be someone you could respect. so, what else to do but meddle?

☾ WARNINGS;

— fem!reader; enemies to lovers; forced proximity; attempted character study?? (badly done!!); angst; TW: mention of blood, death, hospital

☾ WORD COUNT;

— 10,102.

☾ AUTHOR'S NOTE;

— if there's technical loopholes about CT and stuff, don't come for me, please. i tried my best T_T also, this was super difficult to do, because i kept thinking i didn't have a proper grasp on megumi, because honestly, this guy's all over the place in the beginning. also, nonnie, i am sooo sorry that this turned less romantic, we'll fix it in part 2, i pwomise

— back to masterlist.

4th of March; 17:46. — gojo satoru.

"Oh, who is a good boy?"

A vicious growl sounded out, animalistic and threatening, drowning under the annoyed timbre of a certain black-haired student, "I suggest you back off unless you want to lose fingers. They don't take well to being petted."

Gojo Satoru thought watching his two adorable students, old and new alike, bicker might be one of his favourite past times. There was a specific sort of sadistic satisfaction that tugged on the sides of his mouth at the faint pulsing of Megumi's vein in his forehead even when the kid tried to school his features into one of impassiveness.

But the way his student's knuckles turned white, the way the precious Divine Dogs stood at attention around the new exchange student from Kyoto, made Gojo feel like he might kiss Gakuganji for his ploy, after all. Only might, because despite the piqued interest in where this might be headed, he wasn't quite into old, wrinkly men who smelled like decayed grandeur. So, maybe no kissing.

But hey — as far as he was concerned, the sentiment alone was something worth noting.

Gojo leaned back; the tiles of the old school building's roof non-existent underneath the perpetual film of Infinity coating his fingers.

It was no secret that any of the old farts in the headquarters were leeching to gather information on Tokyo Jujutsu High's first-years and their annoying amazing teacher: himself with his high standing in the Jujutsu world, Yuji's bodily curse and the impending doom imminent over all of Japan at best, Megumi's technique and the perpetual stand off against the Zen'in clan and their desire to steal his student away.

Not that any of it mattered.

They could attempt all they want to try and spin the rigged wheel. If Gojo Satoru had anything to say about it, and oh, he did — somebody like him always did — then there was going to be hell to pay.

"Ouch, hey— what the hell, Fushiguro?"

But until his new exchange student actually gave him reason to intervene, Gojo was more than happy to watch the way you had pulled away your hand at the last second, the sharp teeth of Megumi's black wolf grazing the flesh of your fingers with maliciousness that usually were only reserved for curses that seemed to personally have wronged him.

Gojo's eyes narrowed with interest, his smile turning a bit sharper. Oh, this was going to be really interesting.

"I told you to keep away. You just really suck at listening."

Megumi called his dog back with a flick of his fingers and really, he didn't even have to — a silent command would have sufficed, too.

So you watched the posturing, the exaggerated movement of his hand, the way he threw over to you the hint of a condescending look, and you couldn't help the way you thundered over to him, fiery eyes and a grimace on your face from the slight pain of the dog's snapping jaw.

"You," seething, you pointed at him. His dogs sat patiently, albeit still posed to defend, next to his heel, "Don't think I didn't notice that, you prick."

Fushiguro Megumi ignored the way you shook your finger in his face, turning away to continue his training, "Don't you need to get to Shoko-san's already? Hurry then."

Gojo couldn't help the boisterous laughter leaving his mouth. Maa, this was brilliant.

13th of March; 09:02. — fushiguro megumi.

"Yo, Megumi! You're up for a mission. Solo. Except not."

Megumi's eyes narrowed as he watched the carefree grin of his teacher, the hands shoved in his pockets, "Who's the not?"

"Just, you know, your favourite person in the world."

"With her again? She's impulsive, never listens, and half the time I'm cleaning up after her screw-ups."

Gojo's hand played with his strands of hair, and his sunglasses caught the light, "Aw, come on. She's not that bad. Keeps you on your toes. Makes you use full sentences. You know, the likes!"

Megumi thought he might strangle his teacher.

"I work better alone."

"Yeah, yeah, but then that vein in your forehead doesn't twitch, and that's hysterical."

"You enjoy this way too much."

Gojo's smile was slow and wide, "Obviously."

13th of March; 20:12. — fushiguro megumi.

Fushiguro Megumi thought that when he realised what type of mentor Gojo Satoru would be, he had met the quota of absurdness in his life already. Then, he enrolled into Tokyo Jujutsu High and found that his bar was set too low, and there were many other people capable of pushing it higher.

Much higher.

The shenanigans of Inumaki Toge and Panda put aside, Maki and Yuta by extension were the only second years he really respected. His own classmates, though—

Though, if Megumi had to really categorise any of them, Kugisaki Nobara barely counted, for she came at him and Yuji with condescension from the very beginning. It wasn’t hard to adjust to something so straightforward, letting her complaints go through one ear and come out on the other side.

Then there was the other thorn in his side, Itadori Yuji, who was fairly agreeable, wearing his heart on his sleeve, steadfast and solid, so Megumi’s line of what he could tolerate was not crossed that often.

If anything, Gojo had the bigger nerve to flit around Megumi, fussing in a way that bordered between sweet patronising and his deep duty of care. Seeing as how he was supposed to learn from his teacher, that too, he could ignore.

For the most part.

What he did not expect was for another person to test his tolerance, and to test it so well at that.

“You know, if you smiled once in a while, people might stop mistaking you for the world's biggest Debbie Downer.”

Barely ignoring the whispering voice right next to him, Megumi thought that he’d rather follow Nobara into the depths of hell (her weekly trips through the entire shopping avenue, from start to finish and then back again) than have to be paired up with you any longer.

Usually, Megumi had no difficulties letting stupid comments whiz past him; god knew he’d had enough practice, so assuming a stoic expression should have come easy to him: smoothing out his brows, allowing his eyes to reflect the amount of how much he didn’t care, mouth as still as possible — really, it wasn’t supposed to be difficult. But then there was you, whose grin never seemed to falter, who knew how to poke at him and have his blood pressure rise up, who seemed to cross him at each junction, who didn’t know what it meant to stay still and hatch out a plan.

So, Megumi told himself that the twitch in his eyebrows and the annoyed press of his lips together was merely because he was bothered with this mission, but the words escaping him were more than proof that it was less about the assignment and all the more about you.

Under his breath: “And if you shut up once in a while, people might stop mistaking you for an idiot. Now be quiet.”

The infuriating thing about this all wasn’t the fact that he felt prompted to respond in likes. No — it was the fact that you didn’t seem half as annoyed as him; that you exhaled a quiet laugh, almost victorious in having riled him up enough, that somewhere along the line, there was a competition on who would win each clashing of heads, who could one up the other, who would have the last laugh.

You sniffed; voice full with amusement and a certain bite, quieter than before, “Wow, that almost sounded like a full sentence. Careful, Fushiguro, or else someone might think you're concerned about what other people think of me.”

"You're insufferable. Quiet."

"Mhm, but you're still listening."

Leaning forward, Megumi ignored the way you lingered close, ignored the tone of your voice — low, offhanded, like you meant nothing by it or maybe that you meant something by it — and peeked around the corner of the hallway; sharp eyes used to the dark.

A weird, grotesque feeling swung in the air; pregnant with charged particles. What should have been an alluring, sultry atmosphere for the love hotel was turned into an eerie caricature of all the shame bundled up in between the sheets of the beds, all the heartbreak hidden behind each creak of floorboards, lost love, bitter what-ifs.

Two of the Grade Three curses rampaging through the isles had already destroyed half of the east side of the building, the other two lingering close by.

"Alright, this is what we're going to do—"

A gust of wind whirled around debris, and cut off Megumi's sentence. There was a flash of your weapon infused with cursed energy, followed by a crash against the wooden beams of the wall as the deformed bodies of the curses slithered around the corner right towards him, maw wide open.

For fuck's sake—

13th of March; 22:38. — fushiguro megumi.

Megumi was certain he was going to hand in a complaint.

“You’re so boring. What does it take for you to finally ditch that unimpressed look? I mean, I did take out three curses before you even finished your fancy hand signs, you know?”

Yeah.

Definitely handing that in to the principal and maybe, he would have a chance to circumvent Gojo’s incessant obsession with forcing him to team up with you for the various missions he gets sent on. He had mentioned it a bunch of times to his teacher already — disliked the way you were so messy with how you dealt with your curses, seemingly no thoughts planned, no care for the damage left behind. But to no avail.

If anything, Gojo regarded him with a smile that really said more about what an asshole he was than it being successful in placating Megumi. But alright, Gojo’s agenda usually was an enigma, so there was also no hope of getting through to him once he had set his mind on something.

And it wasn't like his teacher was known to explain his reasoning.

Megumi thought that maybe this was punishment. Maybe Gojo really did feel resentment taking care of him for all these years, and now he was left to deal with the strain of handling…you, and all your chaos.

He stopped walking, a heavy sigh brewing deeply in his chest at the cheerful way your voice nagged at his collar, his dirtied pants, his ripped uniform on the right shoulder, “They were Grade Three. A trained dog could’ve handled them.”

Your eyebrows raised up, and you were quick to slink in front of him. His narrowed eyes lowered to follow where your finger was digging into his shoulder, right where the fabric had ripped because you couldn’t wait two seconds to hear out his strategy, instead swinging into the action like you didn't care to have an advantage by analysing anything.

You blinked sweetly, finger pressing right into the cut hiding beneath the shredded material and it stung, “Your cute shikigami didn’t, so I’m not too sure about that, actually.”

"They have better instincts than to waste their time trying to impress me," Megumi pushed away your hand and walked past you; his headache announcing itself alongside the hiss escaping your mouth, "Must be nice not knowing the difference."

Oh, if only he could give in.

21st of March; 16:22. — you.

"Look at us, working so well together, eh, Fushiguro?"

"You nearly got me impaled. Twice."

"Oh, you'd miss the excitement if it wasn't for me. You're welcome for that."

Megumi's look of disgust made you cackle, "Your idea and my idea of excitement don't match up. I suggest a hobby to live out your recklessness. Preferably one that doesn't involve me and far away from here."

"But then who would save my ass? Admit it, I grew on you."

"Like mold, maybe."

2nd of April; 14:58. — you.

When you transferred, you thought blending in was going to be no problem. Your entire purpose was not to change anything in anybody's life, nor to influence any on-going schemes. If anything, that would be the worse outcome, your existence useless in its point of service for you were just an outside observer, trying to catch any slipped up information. Easy enough, right?

You'd heard a lot about the strongest modern sorcerer of this time: the grief he brought Gakuganji first and foremost, for your principal was incredibly youthful in the way it took hours for him to stop grumbling.

It wasn't like you really had any personal desire to meet him— seeing Gojo Satoru fight in action would have been thrilling, in the way you would watch something unexplainable and awe-inducing happening right in front of you, something akin to a supernova.

But essentially, you also cared little in seeking it out if not prompted. You were here because you were ordered to; because the authority carried by the Jujutsu Headquarters was founded in experience and power, because their word was law.

Or so it went. That was what Gakuganji loved spewing, and it wasn't that you necessarily disagreed, it was just that you weren't known to care for it a lot. But then again, it wasn't their concern, so long there was enough intimidation and results to be showed. It probably could have been any of the other first-years in your school, it should have been, because you weren't exactly somebody who blended in super well, you were too on the nose for it, but the excuse you'd been sent over on was that your cursed technique could only properly be trained by the teachers in Tokyo Jujutsu High.

That was a lie.

One you didn't really care to uphold more than necessary. Truth was that your cursed technique had no adequate teacher nor was it a family heirloom to be able to scour clan records for. It existed and you had to deal with it, simple as that.

But then, the teachers in Tokyo Jujutsu High would know that, too.

So rather than it being an actual excuse, it was merely a way to save face. Rather dish out a lie like that, as unbelievable as it may be, than accuse anybody — doing that would lead to showing one's suspicion and that would prompt a reaction; they would have been, for all intents and purposes, asking for retaliation.

It was too much hassle to plan a counter for it, so slap a label on something and call it a day.

Chances were that your appearance had been noted as such — a way to do some reconnaissance, but the way the first-years and their teacher behaved hinted that they either didn't, which was unlikely, or they did and just didn't care, which was stupid.

In any way, you didn't care to complain, either. It was going to interest nobody in Kyoto Jujutsu High, so you just had to deal with it in any way you saw fit.

"I think I'd be a capybara."

Like lingering amongst the first-years here in Tokyo Jujutsu High and hope that you'd find something interesting to note down for Gakuganji to analyse later. If there was something amongst this conversation of deciding on your spirit animal worth writing down.

Nobara, who had been lazily scrolling through her phone, looked up, one sleek eyebrow of hers quirked up, "A what now?"

Sprawled on the ground with his limbs extended like a star fish, Yuji's eyes tracked the clouds, envisioning different shapes onto the white fluff travelling in their lane on the wide blue.

"You know, one of those giant guinea pig things. They're just so chill," he explained, hands coming up to hesitate for a second — how did one even imitate a capybara? — before forming a big blob and hoping that his words conveyed enough of a picture to make up for the lack of gestures. Out of the peripheral of his eyes, Yuji watched the uninterested look in Megumi's eyes and wondered if his friend would be able to do a shadow puppet of a capybara.

Nobara snorted. "No. You're like a full-blown chimpanzee."

"No way, I'm so chill—" Yuji sat up swiftly, eyes wide, but the girl interrupted him, waving him away her manicured fingers, "Always climbing things, making weird noises, eating like you've never seen food before…"

Yuji was almost offended, if it weren't for the fact that she wasn't exactly wrong, either. "But chimps are scary. They, like, bite people's faces off!!"

"So does Sukuna," Nobara looked at him with an expression that told anybody in immediate proximity exactly how little brain cells she thought he had, "Don't try to play innocent with your 'I'm a chill guy!' when you literally have a face-munching demon playing house in your body."

"He's not me, though!!"

She shrugged, shoulders touching the tip of her hair with the movement, "You share rent. That counts."

Itadori Yuji grasped his uniform, the material bunching underneath his hand before his fingers let go of the jacket, one by one. It was only a moment, but your eyes, trained on the pink-haired student possessing the King of the Curses, were observant, catching the way a strange, detached expression flitted over his face. Hollow, dissociated eyes that seemed so far away.

Digging your heel into the ground, you tried imagining what it could be that he was feeling out in that moment, what Sukuna could be saying, what horrible things he could be taunting Yuji with in the personal space of his mind that nobody could access. The things Yuji kept hidden behind an exterior that beamed like the sun, locking the force of the demon behind rattling doors.

You wondered whether Yuji's body remembered the things that Sukuna did.

As quick as the expression having made its way over Yuji's face, it was just as quick that he whirled around to face Megumi with mock offence. Yuji's finger pointed towards the other first-year, who looked like he'd rather not be here, listening to the non-sense the others were arguing about.

"Megumi!! Come on, man, you gotta be on my side, right?"

Megumi, whose body had been slowly turning away, inch by inch, halted, and his eyes closed, his chest moving with a sigh escaping him, "I don't even want to be on anyone's side."

Yuji's mouth almost formed a comical downturn,"I miss when we were friends."

"I miss when it was quiet."

"Don't worry, Yuji," Nobara threw her leg over the other and leaned back, "He's only pissed because his fashion sense sucks."

Your eyebrows raised at the eye roll of Megumi's; it was offensive in its own right, the way it conveyed the exasperation sitting deep in his soul, "I don't care about fashion. Or this conversation."

Nobara nodded to Yuji. "That's exactly what someone without drip would say."

Yuji nodded back. "He'd totally be a hedgehog."

A snap of her fingers towards the pink-haired, "Oh, that's such a good read. All spiky on the outside, and so soft on the inside. Yuck."

"I'm going to leave."

"Running away again, huh?"

Maybe you were not supposed to influence any ongoing schemes, but you couldn't help yourself.

When there was somebody in front of you who seemed so incredibly closed off, like anything pelted off him like rain on an umbrella, it was so very tempting to be the one who could bring out the twitch in his eyebrows, the clicking of his tongue.

It was a race, the way you ran to see who could piss off the other faster. So that he could drop this pretentious holier-than-thou attitude, thinking he was better than everybody else because he played the part of a brooding hero so well, because he refused to partake in conversation that retained his youth.

"What?" his voice was quiet, composed, and he could have fooled you had he not stopped mid-step.

"They're just joking around, grumpy-pants. That got you all bothered?"

Megumi's shoulders were tense, a small quiver running through his muscles, like there's something repressed running beneath his skin. The curve of his jaw hardened, and through gritted teeth, he spit out, "No. But you're starting to."

There was a certain charge in the air; a reluctance to accept you in their midst, like a bystander, too easy to be forgotten. They had already settled in a comfortable exchange of energy, and here you were, disrupting it — a new current of electricity that nobody really knew where to direct it through. Yuji was the type to be accommodating, friendly and open; who didn't have a problem to pull you in. Nobara, who saw you had no interest in entertaining her whims, grouped you together with the rest of the first-years but not necessarily that rejecting.

Megumi, though. Megumi was the one who distrusted you the most.

To his defence, you were an intruder. He might not know it outright, but the protective barrier he had risen around himself and almost around the other two as well gnawed at you. There they were: those three, belonging together, one playing off the other, the two chaotic kids needing to be reined in by the rock in the midst of crashing waves.

It almost made you jealous. Almost. If Megumi didn't want to trust you, then so be it. You weren't banking on that, anyway, you just…liked riling him up.

Nobara had nudged closer to Yuji, her hand facing his, palm up: "Ten bucks says he threatens to summon his dogs or whatever in, like, five seconds."

"You're on," Yuji whispered back; his hand meeting hers in a quiet clap.

You mirrored Megumi's eye roll from earlier, made sure to put in all the mocking you could, "You always take everything so seriously. Jeez, no wonder no one invites you to anything fun."

Megumi's knuckles were the second thing to follow to express his displeasure, the annoyance bubbling in his veins, the way the tips of his shoes almost wanted to turn around, "You done?"

Scratching at his ego, you knew your words were sharp. That he also had valid reason to fight you — if anything, you might start respecting him more if he just finally snapped. If he just finally gave you a reason to believe that he believed what he was saying, that he wasn't full of shit.

"Just wondering how long you can pretend like you're not dying to prove something."

He moved his head and you caught a glimpse of his eye; the heat in them that he tried to desperately squash, the cold that he layered on top of it, the iciness with which he regarded you, and you returned the look, challenging him.

"I'm not pretending."

"Oooookay, wow. That's, uh, super healthy tension here," Yuji laughed, a nervous undertone swinging in his tenor, and he got up from the floor. There were a few blades of grass stuck on the outside of his pant legs, and a few floated to the ground when he stepped up, ready to intervene.

Your relaxed stance didn't falter.

Because you knew. Because Megumi knew. Because both of you knew he wasn't going to do anything. Because he didn't have courage enough to give in, because he'd rather swallow the annoyance than act on it, because he'd rather burn than to show his feelings and be vulnerable, than to stand by what he believed.

Because he was a coward.

He left instead, and you watched the way he walked away, the way he shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants, deep, like they were a bottomless pit that could swallow all the frustrations he felt.

"Don't trip over your own brooding!" you called after him sweetly, and his shoulders tensed even further, before he rounded the corner and disappeared from view.

You clicked your tongue, feeling unsatisfied because goddamn, did he have to make it so hard to get him to explode?

"You think you're being so cute," Nobara said, and despite her voice sounding syrupy, there was snark swinging underneath it, cutting through the silence that ensued after Megumi left.

You shrugged. "He can't handle jokes, that's not on me."

"Oh, we were joking, alright."

Yuji sent you a look, unsure, hesitating. He didn't want enemies, not when he wanted to get along with his classmates, and you had no interest in forcing him to, so you left as well.

3rd of April; 02:14. — you.

Your hands moved steadily, the black ink seeping through the thick pale slip of paper with every brush stroke. It had to be deliberate, so the creation of talismans usually were a slow business, though it also didn't help that the scripture was far from modern. Old and twisted from teachings long forgotten.

The brush dragged through ink and painted intent, and with each swing of the bristles, you exhaled out, the room cold as it seemed to use up the heat and energy to create a hidden message behind the charm.

You whispered confines into existence, orders; a veil of false reality settling on top of the ink slowly at the last of your brush strokes. Shimmering, the talisman looked like it had embers glowing inside of it, the edges of the paper slip singed dark.

Quickly, you wrapped an unassuming thread around the charm, tying it up, then — a bead of blood pressed right on the seal.

Clicking your tongue, you licked the welling of another drop of blood off. There wasn't much to inform Gakuganji of yet, but you were expected to send a status update anyway. In your eyes? a complete waste of good, thick paper. The world was getting expensive, after all.

5th of April; 16:11. — fushiguro megumi.

"Oh no, you don't."

"Megumi, you wound me. I haven't even said anything yet."

"Gojo-sensei. With no respect at all, you're coming in here with her."

"If he's wounded, I'm heartbroken, Fushiguro. How could you say that— hey, don't ignore me."

Megumi shut his book, "There's plenty other people you could send."

"Eh, I figured you two would make a good team. You know, balancing each other out, but also your people skills needs some training," Gojo shrugged, nonchalant, but the way he leaned against his door made Megumi think that really, this was just another one of Gojo's shrewd teaching methods.

"He'd definitely get it down if he stopped thinking he was better than everyone else."

"I don't think I'm better. I just don't care enough to play along with you," he bit out.

A clap of Gojo's hands and a gleeful smile, "See? Perfect chemistry already. You may call me Master Matchmaker from now on."

"Over my dead body."

"Aww, come onnnn—"

"No."

5th of April; 19:02. — you.

"Stop moping, Fushiguro."

"I'm not moping."

You grinned, leaning closer to him, "Mhm, I'm not so sure of that. You look like you need somebody to cheer you up."

He threw you a sour look, before turning his head to look out the window again. The car ride was strained. Itawa, the manager issued by Tokyo Jujutsu High, was gripping the steering wheel silently. Itawa didn't have anything to say, as per regulations, and Megumi and you didn't see eye to eye.

Gojo had announced the mission that both of you were to fulfil, gleefully putting both Megumi and you in a team together. It was clear that he was enjoying the way Megumi bristled in the face of spending more time on missions with you than he was already forced to. You weren't exactly sure why; maybe he suspected you and liked to keep you in check with his trusted, experienced student.

But maybe he also just enjoyed seeing him sweat. It was difficult to tell with Gojo and the blindfold that concealed far more than his eyes.

Megumi, though, had his dissatisfaction ooze from his every pore with a force that could have rivalled any lash out of cursed energy. You couldn't help but wink at him when you caught his eye, the smile growing wider at the darkening of his eyes and the hard set of his mouth.

To his fortune, it wasn't a difficult mission. Iwata had already relayed to you both the details:

The shopping mart in Yurakucho had suddenly sealed itself under a spontaneous veil, civilians having gone missing. The windows had reported back to the Jujutsu Sorcerers about a cursed womb presence, and sooner than later, Megumi and you had been dispatched for elimination.

When you stepped out the car, the street was empty; the civilians that had occupied the space before not needing to see curses to notice the change in the atmosphere, the danger lingering in the air. It wasn't supposed to be a high Grade curse, but with cursed wombs, it was difficult to tell.

The veil drawn on seemed to almost glitch like it was unable to keep up the facade of a normal shopping mall; the false reality cloaking the building sporting tiny rips in its fabric.

"It will be easy to find its weak point since it's not a strong curtain. It will take but a moment," Iwata assured, and true to his word, it did not take long to create a hole in the spiritual structure for you both to slip through it. But when you and Megumi entered the curtain, you hadn't expected for it to be almost harder to breathe than outside, as if the air was carrying more fluid than it should, like you could be drowning any moment. Without a word, the divine dogs appeared around Megumi's legs, at attention.

The automatic doors were broken, the glass cracked like something had escaped rather than broken in. There were tiny splinters covering the face of the floor and the jagged edges caught the fluorescent light flickering behind it, throwing indiscernible shapes on the floor.

"Creepy," you muttered as you stepped on the shards, faint music swinging in the air accompanying the strange static of the place. It tasted weird, too, when you had opened your mouth to speak.

Megumi nodded but kept quiet, barely glancing at the screens of TVs mounted on every wall, a product advertisement looping over and over again — the same smile, the same pour of coffee.

He would never buy this specific brand of coffee machine. Not now. Not ever.

Instead, Megumi moved through the first floor; eyes sharp, trained on the surfaces of the place. They were weird, some were too clean, others were smeared with dark brown substance. It was humid, too, like there was a storm brewing.

Feeling out the situation, you sent a low pulse of your cursed energy out, meant to ricochet off the walls and tell you the density of everything that existed within the confines of this place, but the sound echoed outwards and came back to you distorted, like part of it disappeared. Your eyebrows furrowed.

His voice sounded far away, even though he stood right next to you, "We should split up, cover more ground. There's three floors, after all. Who knows which one the curse calls its new home."

"I'm hurt, Fushiguro, wanna get rid of me so early?"

Megumi swallowed his sigh, "Yes, but it'll also be faster that way."

"I'll take the upper floor then, Your Majesty."

You whirled around to get started, but his scoff held you back, "You're so impatient, hold on for a moment."

"You don't need to give me a goodbye kiss, Fushiguro, I think i'll manage just fine without it."

He threw you a look that you decidedly chose to ignore and said, "Take this."

Catching something sleek and black, you took a closer look at it. It was a short ranged communication system; a wireless ear piece that had you raising your eyebrows at him. Prepared much, was he?

"I thought I felt it before but just earlier, when you activated your technique — it felt weird, like— like the building's reacting to our presence. Not just cursed."

"Yeah," you said, eyes trained on the ceiling and the flickering lights, "I think it may be feeding on the energy. I sensed far less on its way back than what I sent out."

"Yeah."

You sent him a kiss through the air when you parted from him, because you thought the way his usually impassive face contorted in a grimace was a good memory to own, and then took the emergency stairs. The escalators were dead, and you hardly believed that the curse was going to help you out by allowing you to take the faster way.

The second floor's sign post indicated the toy's section to be up ahead — or at least, that was what it was supposed to be. Instead, you were met with shelves that had been cleared away, the toys scattered all over the floor like debris from a fight that dominated the room beforehand.

There were cracks on the floor and your eyes tracked them upward to talismans on the ceiling and sticking to the pillars on the edge of the room. Hand-drawn with shaky lines. The ink hadn't dried yet, and one such drop followed gravity and splashed on the linoleum floor.

It wasn't ink, you realised when you saw the thinned out edges of the liquid on the ground, it was blood.

Cursed energy swirled around the slips of paper, tugging on your senses like an invisible leash. It called for you, asked you to come witness, to come watch, that there was nothing else for you to find and do on this floor than to come look at the centre of the floor and see the wide circle set on the floor.

Messy, but red.

It pulsed, and you couldn't blink as you watched the circle writhe, like it was almost alive.

Megumi's voice startled you when it came out of nowhere, "This looks—ke a ritual of— sort. Still— active."

You stepped back automatically, looked away from the circle, the siren call broken. Despite the static cutting through his words, you couldn't help but offhandedly notice the way his voice sounded through the ear piece, and it sent a weird shiver down your back. Had it always been that deep?

Furrowing your eyebrows, you pressed the in-ear piece deeper, "This shit's weird. Almost made me step in."

You shook your head to clear up the heavy air settling on your senses, and tried to keep your cursed energy locked in, taut around your body, not allowing it to leak from your skin, but it felt like the cursed womb tasted it anyway. A shudder in the air, sudden and subtle. Like a breath drawn in by something enormous.

"It doesn't feel like an ambush," you said, "It's like it's waiting. Like…it wants us inside the circle?"

Megumi's voice cracked through the in-ear, "I swe— don't get any du—ideas. Stay put, I'm— com—"

You weren't stupid.

No way in hell would you just oblige the desires of a curse, but you also didn't want to wait on Megumi and risk allowing this thing, wherever it was, to haze your senses. Not when you could feel the delightful shiver in the air at your attention.

It really was a better idea to find the cursed womb fast before it could manifest fully, anyway. Sorry, Fushiguro.

5th of April; 20:38. — fushiguro megumi.

Megumi's head was already hurting.

He had to hurry because there was no telling what your next move was. If anything, he could count his blessings that up until then nothing worth mentioning happened, that you both were able to decently communicate and investigate the floors.

But then he threw a talisman from his sleeve and flicked it into the circle and the paper caught fire midair, the red turning blue from the force of energy swirling in the circle before the charm was slapped into the floor. It left a decently sized dent from the force and the cursed energy rippled outwards; the air swinging heavily and even though there was no breeze, Megumi thought that he still felt movement caressing his cheek.

There were more than just the blood markings on the floor; deep in the open cracks, there were sigils buried, carved.

So no, he had absolutely no faith and did not want to take a chance on whether your resistance was sufficient enough not to step into the damn circle.

His Demon Dogs were already ahead of him, fast, barely hindered by the debris on the floor; the energy that had pooled in his palms slowly dwindling. He set out to follow, taking the stairs two at once, but when he just entered the second floor—

A scrape, a soft whimper, shushing.

Even though the overhead light buzzed as if a swarm of flies kept bumping into the light source, even though there was a faint thrumming, even though Megumi's ears were strained to catch all the tiny noises, high alert, it faded when those new sounds registered in his mind.

Megumi found them off the side, tucked behind a fallen aisle of grotesque looking toy cars. A teenage girl, eyes wide and sharp with her arm looped tightly around an older man's shoulder. There was sweat glinting above her upper lip, and her fear was palpable on his tongue, sharp and tangy.

From one second to another, uninvited, flashes of—

A hospital bed.

Rain against the window.

Limp limbs.

Gone.

I'm saying you can't.

He snapped back to reality like a rubber band, the air heavy and stale. Megumi shook his head, and the inside of his hands felt clammy. He closed them to fists once, hard, with intent. A reminder.

This wasn't the time.

The girl didn't cry when she looked up at him: odd, like he was the odd one out. He wasn't odd, he belonged here, he was meant to do this. He had to, or else—

Stop. Stop. Not the time.

He crouched in front of her, his eyes flitting over the old man, falling into the old routine of analysing. Detached, categorise the threat, deal. The old man was barely conscious, but still breathing; the rise of his chest shallow and weak. There was a thin line of blood trickling down his temple. Then he allowed his gaze to wander over to the girl again.

"You hurt?"

She shook her head, her fingers digging into the old man's — her grandfather? — shoulder, deep, gripping the material. The pressure in the air felt like it was coiling tighter, ready to rip — something about the floor was moving wrong, and he couldn't risk wasting a second longer to let them linger here.

"Okay. We're getting you out, so on my command, you run. Keep him moving. You don't stop until I say."

5th of April; 20:52. — you.

Megumi's voice hadn't sounded out anymore. You briefly wondered whether something happened, but when you turned the corner, it escaped your mind, because right there in the centre of the aisle: the cursed womb.

It wasn't hiding anymore. No, worse: it had built a body.

Twisted metal of broken shopping carts; the limbs of mannequins attached to each other, bent like the joints of spider's legs, and in the middle of it, curled up in the protection of its centre was a blob of flesh, deep green in its colour, moving like it's molding. There were something like bones sticking out of its side, like ribs, expanding, trying to breathe. Trying to imitate.

It was not human and yet it craved it so.

At its feet was half of the torso of a store employee, and there were obscene sounds. Slurping, drinking. A few metres away was another store employee, already dry, the skin ashen and wrinkled.

Eyes widening, you realised what was happening.

When you tried to speak into the communication piece, Megumi's voice finally pushed through.

"I've— two civilia— we—" it cracked horribly in your ears and with the brewing of electricity in the air, your hair stood up on its end, "—start evac— protocol."

"Forget that. We don't have time!" you pressed the in-ear so hard, it hurt your ear canal, and you heard a sharp "What?!" coming from him, but you couldn't entertain him, you needed to make him understand, "I found it, Fushiguro. It's some goddamn department store mascot made from some mannequins and—"

You paused when you heard heavy breathing, "And people."

You continued, because he wasn't talking, and you needed him to know, "It's feeding, and I'm not going to lie, it looks ready to burst."

There was a low groan coming from the curse, echoing through the walls. The shelves creaked as they started tilting on their bases, not from motion but from bending. A bad feeling unfurled in your stomach, your fingertips tingling. This was not good.

"We don't have time," you decided, because he wasn't saying shit and you had to stop the curse from fully manifesting, "We need to collapse the upper floor. Drop it with everything we've got, bury the curse, halt it — whatever it is, we need to do it now."

"—not bringin— roof down on—eople!"

You cut through his words, urgent when you heard the Demon Dogs running towards you, "Then get them out faster, because there's no way in hell that I'm waiting."

5th of April; 20:55. — fushiguro megumi.

Megumi's hands were frozen near his blade.

His eyes darted towards the girl and her grandfather — she was still crouched behind him, her breath heavy, painted dark with fear. Their eyes met for a split second and he knew she understood enough from his words.

"We're not sacrificing people," he said, almost snarled, turning away from the girl who looked at him like he was her only salvation, and his shoulders were heavy, threatening to crumble from an invisible force. Whether it was the responsibility he shouldered or the ever-growing output of pressure and energy from the cursed womb, he could not say.

"—risk let— manife—"

He hissed, "Yes," because it was true. Because he'd, "—rather that than dig two corpses out of the rub—"

The shifting of the building cut him off. Aisles buckled and turned, warping like wriggling worms, intestines that were in the middle of digestion. When the empty shelves started stretching outward, hungry, he whirled around, mind set.

His hand gripped the girl's arm hard, his fingers pressing in with frustration, urgency, anger, and he knew the girl winced underneath the harshness of his touch, but he couldn't be worried about bruising her or her old man, when the alternative was them dead. Deleted from this world, under his watch.

"Move. Move," Megumi grunted, and she stumbled over her legs, and then, a shift in the comm line. A sharp click. A decision made.

Megumi's eyes snapped up—

Impact.

A burst of cursed energy tore through the roof, fast and brutal, a calculated cave-in. The concrete groaned, jarring, as a blast erupted from above with an ear-deafening volume. Cracks formed along the ceiling above them like it was chasing the bolt of a lightning strike.

His instincts flared, hands crossing in a familiar gesture.

"Nue!"

The shikigami appeared in a gust of wind. Wings spread wide as it flew straight up towards the ceiling, its body crashing against the bulk of the collapse. It sounded like a thunderclap, the way the force split, the scattering of debris, the fracturing of ceiling away from the civilians.

The girl was crying softly behind him, and Megumi hated the sound. He hated that his chest squeezed, a reminder that he could have failed, he hated that he was in charge, he hated the fury coursing through his veins that you decided to forego his plans, that you put him in a position like that.

He hated you.

5th of April; 21:12. — you.

Megumi's divine dogs surrounded you, growling, threatening, but you weren't going to do anything, anyway.

There wasn't a point anymore. It had been the perfect time — the concrete was about to rain down onto the cursed womb, suffocating it, but then Megumi's goddamn flimsy convictions came in between. Now, the cursed womb was gone. Escaped. God knew what damage it would cause now.

The silence should have been deafening, but the ringing in your ear from the explosion was too loud, the heat on your skin too strong, your throat too dry.

His voice, unhindered from the lack of static interference now that there was no curse in sight anymore, was too loud as well, cold, "They're alive. Not that you'd care to—"

The communication piece crunched under your boots.

5th of April; 22:43. — iwata.

The car ride back was silent, even more so than before. This wasn't just Fushiguro Megumi and the exchange student from Kyoto not getting along —this was a failed mission. This was the culmination of stubborn heads and clashing ideals, and Iwata thought that he could drown in the thick tension simmering between you both.

When the curtain dropped, there was cursed energy lingering in the air, but not as remnants of an exorcism. Active, swirling, faint. That was the signature of a curse that had been here and was now gone.

The first-years looked worse for wear, but it wasn't just the rips in their uniform — it was the look in their eyes: the resentment, the anger, the guilt, the unsaid words sitting on their tongue, ready to be spit out.

Iwata's knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. He really did hope that his car would not become their battlefield, that he could drive just a teeny tiny bit faster so that he wouldn't be around for when both of you decided to hash it out.

5th of April; 23:07. — you.

You entered Tokyo Jujutsu High's protective barrier together. Well, as together as Megumi walking a few steps behind you was. It was cold, the weather reminding you that spring was barely amongst you, but you refused to rub your arms in an effort to warm yourself up. You didn't want to show weakness in front of Megumi, not when you could feel his gaze trained on you from behind; the accusation lying behind the heavy attention.

You pressed your lips together.

The curse was gone, barely traceable for you anymore. When the curtain fell, Iwata had called Gojo at once, though the white-haired teacher had been busy doing god knew what, so you had to relay to Iwata what exactly happened. It was a pathetic display of how much you messed up when both of you started talking over each other, but then Iwata had kindly requested alone time with each of you to go through the details.

Embarrassing.

It wasn't even your fault, but the tip of your ears burned anyway at the incompetence they must have seen when you couldn't stop yourself from responding to Megumi.

Right when your paths diverged, he spoke, voice cold and repressed.

"You dropped a floor on two innocent people."

You couldn't help whirling around to meet him face to face — his' was shadowed, the moon barely illuminating anything. In the silence of the world, your steps sounded hard and deliberate, "You let it escape."

The look in his eyes grew darker, "I made a call and you ignored it."

"No," you shook your head. It was far simpler than that, but of course he wouldn't see it. "You ran from the fight, like you always do, and I didn't."

"Ran? I didn't call to drive them home and tuck them in. We just needed to get them out, but you almost killed them," he scoffed, his hands balled into fists. There was a tremor in his shoulders, one that he tried to suppress with gritted teeth, "and all i'm hearing is that you don't give a damn."

It angered you — the easiness with which he accused you of not caring. Him, who willingly threw away the way Jujutsu Regulations had always been, who played it safe because of what? Because he was scared? Because he couldn't handle making a choice that was supposed to be the one you had to go for? Curses first, people second. Because in a world where people died, to ensure there wasn't more to kill them, was more important.

You had seen the look in his eyes before when somebody died. It wasn't anger, it wasn't pain. It was something quieter, sharper. Regret. Like he could have changed the outcome if there had been more to him than what he was. The way he steeled himself and searched the rubble like he was hoping to find a better version of himself buried under the wreckage.

He thought that made him better. You almost snorted, because it didn't. It just made him dangerous, because he was going to hesitate again. And again. And again.

So yeah, it angered you beyond control the way he threw your principles in front of you and stepped on them when his entire spiel was a lie. It was bullshit.

Your finger dug into his chest, an accusation and a challenge, "There won't be anybody left to give a damn about, because that curse is hatching out somewhere. Who knows how many more people are going to die, hm? Those lives less precious than the ones you saved?"

He looked at you like you grew a second head, but something flickered behind the confines of his eyes, something that he swallowed over and over, that he tried to hide. He slapped your hand away, a sharp sting where your skin met his, and his voice sounded rough when he replied, full of resentment, unbelievability because —, "Who made you god? You don't get to choose who dies, whose life doesn't matter."

"That's the thing, Fushiguro. You wanna keep pretending you know that that's what the job entails, but you don't live up to it. You've never lived up to it. Noble hero, my ass, you're just a coward with a clean conscience."

His hand had snatched the front of your clothes so quickly, you barely had time to react. Nose pressed against yours, his eyes harsh, wild. The uniform strained underneath your arms and you could feel the warmth emitting from his body, the faint smell of him after this long day, sweat and hidden desperation.

The heat of his anger and his hair brushed your forehead, "Say that again."

You narrowed your eyes at him, not moving away. If he wanted to invade your space because he couldn't handle the truth, then you'd meet him right there: "What, you think restraint makes you better? Want me to say it again so badly? You're just scared to admit that you've already made peace with casualties."

A humourless laugh escaped him, his fingers tightening on your blouse, "Funny. I can say the same thing about you—"

"No, but that's the thing: I don't have a problem agreeing with it. I'm telling you right here, right now that yes, I'd sacrifice those two to keep others safe," you interrupted him, watching his face, the flicker in his eyes, the angry twist in his mouth, the grimace that he couldn't hide behind an impassive wall anymore, "But you— you keep doing that, you know? Acting like you don't care because you talk quieter."

Fuck the stoicism that he wanted to cling to, the control he didn't want to give up — you wanted him to get angry, wanted the squeeze of his hand around your uniform to evolve, wanted him to finally tip the edge over and be honest, no performances. He was teetering there, you could see it. It was clinging onto every fibre of his being, pushing him, asking, challenging him. Then— a harsh exhale, his breath warm against your skin in the cool of the night, and he let go.

"If you think that's what it is, then you don't know shit."

You allowed your shoulders to drop, a sigh heavy in your voice, "I think you'd rather break your own bones than admit what you want, Fushiguro. You're not sparing lives, so I don't know who you're kidding. You're just dodging the part where you have to live with who you become."

He walked past you, silent, the gravel underneath his boots filling the air like it was supposed to take over for him.

There he was, running.

You aimed the words at the air in between you both, the ever-growing distance, "At least, I make the calls I can live with. You make the ones you hope no one remembers."

5th of April; 23:59. — fushiguro megumi.

Fushiguro Megumi felt sick to his stomach.

His dormitory door closed shut behind him, quietly. It was deep in the night, his window looking outward to the side of the moon, painting everything in a soft blue hue. It was silent, but it felt charged, like it was waiting for him to make a noise. He didn't want to.

His face felt weird.

He tried to fix it, to go back to the way he looked, the way he always allowed his face to look, but it wouldn't sit right. His eyebrows felt so heavy, the neutral set of his mouth too numb, his cheeks too hollow. The mask he had gotten so used to putting on didn't want to hold. It kept sliding off, and he tried again, but again, it fell into a grimace.

His breathing sounded weird in his ears, too, like it was far away, like this wasn't his body, like Megumi wasn't human and he didn't belong here. Did he ever? When he was out there, standing in front of people and curses, did he? Had he done enough to deserve existing here, safely tucked in his dorm room whilst the curse roamed free out there?

The death of more people, on his hands—

He opened his mouth and exhaled. His body listened, but if he hadn't known that it was his body right now, he might not have recognised it as himself. The intake of breath, his chest expanding, the smell of orange lingering in his room from earlier, the silence. It was so silent.

You ran.

Something — somewhere — tightened, and then everything rushed in at once, like it was scared that if it didn't come say hello now, it would never get its chance to. His hands lifted up into his line of sight, and they were trembling, slightly. He pressed them into his eyeballs like he could squeeze the guilt out this way, like he could dig them deep enough to enter his brain and stop it.

His voice was barely more than a whisper: "I didn't freeze."

He didn't. He couldn't have. He made the hard call. He did. He— you let it escape.

"I didn't."

Nothing in his room answered. What would it say, if it could? Would it agree with Megumi? Would it think that he was a coward, too?

He shook his head, hard enough that the strands of hair clung to his temples, damp. He hadn't noticed that he was sweating. Or was it tears? He didn't know. He wasn't sure. There was pressure building in his chest, up in his throat, trying to claw out, to rip free from his skin.

It barely registered in his mind when his his hands came together and cursed energy lingered between his palms, nor when the soft fur of his Divine Dogs brushed the hands, the tentative swipe of their tongue on his skin.

The moonlight caught in his eyes, and for a second he thought he saw himself reflected in the window amidst the black and white fur surrounding his head.

It didn't look like him.

6th of April; 00:19. — you.

You were exhausted to the bone.

Your chest felt like somebody had taken a hammer and chiselled your organs around until all the anger had fizzled out, until only fatigue was left, muscles aching, deeply; throat scratchy and raw from the shouting.

Megumi's face kept flickering through your head; the look in his eyes, the way they didn't harden, the way they looked like a kaleidoscope, fractured in a million pieces. The way they dropped. Just a bit, just enough.

Fuck. Had you been too rough? Too sharp?

You hadn't wanted to pick a fight — not really. You just…you couldn't take the way he stood there like the weight didn't touch him. Like he wouldn't turn around and then not care if there were civilians on the line that he didn't know and hadn't promised to save. Like he had any right to accuse you of anything.

But why couldn't you ignore it?

It wasn't like that was your first time meeting somebody whose principles were all weird. Hell, you didn't even mind that, if only he stood by it. But he didn't, and something about that bothered you.

He needed it, right?

Because if you didn't push him that hard, he would just continue hiding. Because if you didn't slap him awake, his restraint might get everybody killed. Because maybe you wanted a reason to respect him, to believe he was someone worth following. Someone who, if he really tried, could stop pretending and step up, stop being a shadow of what he could be.

No. You had to. Because if you didn't, nobody would. Because he was the heir to the Zen'in clans technique and he was wasting it. Yeah, that must be it.

Why does it matter to you? Why does it keep mattering?

You got into bed and ignored the question like it wasn't sitting there beside you in the dark like it was something alive.

6th of April; 04:52. — gojo satoru.

Gojo Satoru stepped into the broken shopping mall deep in the middle of the night.

The scent hit him first — burned plastic, the water-logged fertiliser from the gardening section strong in the air, the blood faint but still there, like it soaked into the bones of this mart. Residues of cursed energy hummed low, traces of them visible to Gojo's eyes, though it was dissipating with the hours passing. Gojo thought it almost seemed shy the way it was trying to hide from him, like it was ashamed to stay.

He huffed, an exhale whirling around the dust from the collapse, "Could've been worse."

The circle with the ritual completely cracked in half, the shards on the floor, the bodies of the employees — yeah. Definitely could have been worse.

Gojo moved through the mall like a ghost, his footsteps light, his posture relaxed and easy. His Six Eyes were everywhere, scanning the remnants of the talismans, tracking the remaining energy across the linoleum and the shattered shelves.

He didn't have to look where the curse had blown away to, he already knew.

Instead, he knelt beside the dried streaks on the floor, his fingers brushing the scorch marks from a lightning strike.

Megumi.

There was a small smile pulling at the corner of Gojo's mouth, sharp, "Sloppy, Gumi-chan."

The kid was still too soft.

Though, of course, if it had been Gojo Satoru, he wouldn't have needed to blast the roof to exorcise the curse. He would have just killed it from the get go, and whoever was stuck in the mall would've been able to get out safely, afterwards. Not that he would have stayed around for that. That was what Ijichi would have been for.

He did admire that about Megumi, his ability to deeply shoulder the guilt. He thought it made him human, and that was always a good sign. But Gojo resented it, too. The world they lived in didn't reward hesitation, or holding back. It didn't reward worry about whether your hands would be stained.

It punished it.

But that was how kids were supposed to be and to an extent it relieved Gojo, but it also twisted something in his chest. If they didn't grasp it soon—

He didn't want to scrape off their remains.

Gojo stood up, slow and fluid, a dance he had done before a thousand times. The air shifted around him and then he stood in front of the half-born, desperate curse. Tracking it was easy, teleporting to it even easier.

"You had your chance," he murmured, picking off non-existent lint off his sleeve, his voice bored and almost cruel. "You made it to the edge of something special. Congratulations."

He raised his hand, "Now disappear."

A pulse of cursed energy, no technique even needed, and it was gone like it never existed at all.

A deep sigh escaped him as he stood in the silence of the outskirts of Tokyo, surrounded by shadows of a fight that wasn't his, but became his, anyway. Like it always did. That was what he was for. He handled what his kids couldn't. Not because they were weak and couldn't deal the finishing blow, not because they failed when they should have succeeded.

But because they were learning and that was his duty. For as long as they were — he'd work himself to the bone cleaning up their mess.

Now, on to destroy that talisman you had written up to send off to Kyoto.

AUTHOR'S NOTE | thank you for reading!!

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #megumi x you #jjk megumi #megumi fushiguro #fushiguro megumi #megumi x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk angst #megumi angst #jelly writes #jelly fic: epithimia

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milkmily · 2 months ago

Text

Invitation ³ [Zayne]

Zayne x non mc! Reader

Sum. You and Zayne got an invitation to a wedding, but it was to attend the wedding of the people you two love, both heartbroken. (Smut, piv, oral, Zayne may be a bit out of character so I am sorry, it's been a while I've written smut so forgive me, As well for typos sorry)

<- One | Two | here(last part) | (possibly a lil short story not sure ->

Layla is MC(my mc/ oc)

It was sudden, as he pulled Layla into his office she couldn't stop her sobs. What had happened? What is going on? He worried as he saw her cry. He hasn't seen Layla cry in a while. Last time he saw her cry was when Sylus said his vows to her. Zayne tried to calm her down, give her time to breathe and let it all out. He had his arm wrapped around her as she wiped her tears away, her sobs turning into gasps.

It was all so confusing and it hurt seeing her like this, it truly did. “I'm sorry Zayne…” she mumbled. “About What?” He asks. “I just barged in here and…” She sighs and shakes her head. Zayne rubbed her shoulder and said, “It's fine, tell me.” Layla looked at him and her eyes broke him. She looked so sad, The shine in her eyes was gone. What had happened? Was it Sylus? “Sylus and I had a talk…” Oh so it was him. And something in him burned. Layla continued, “It was about her.” You. It was about you. Why you?

“Everything went okay, it was amazing really. But the problem was that Sylus kept bringing her up. It didn't bother me because I'd bring you and Caleb up from time to time.” She says. “But then he said how she's been distant, replying to his texts late and that when they'd meet again that they would need to talk.” She says. “I know that they are close but to keep bringing her up on our honeymoon? I talked with him and told him, he seemed not to have taken it well.” She says as her hands start to shake again, the tears building up into her eyes. “A-And he said that not to think too much of it, he said I over think! Of course I do!” She sobbed. “So we just started to argue. He thinks that you also get in the way!” She cried. Zayne froze as he heard that. Him? But he hasn't done anything. “I tried to talk to him but he just…we couldn't.” She says, sounding so broken and scared. “I love him so much, I don't want this argument to end what we have.” This was the first time he's heard her say that. ‘I love him…’ Why can't he get that through his head though? And why does he feel relief at hearing them argue? What was wrong with him?

“Perhaps you two need space?” He suggested and Layla looked at him and she seemed offended. “Space? But why? I mean, we are married to be together. I don't want space from him, I want him to be with me. I miss him already.” She cried. Zayne looked away. He didn't like hearing that. It brought him shame even thinking about how he's actually happy they argued. He wrapped an arm around her and said, “We have to do things we don't like in order for things to work, Layla.” she shook her head and connected to sob. He wrapped his arms around him and closed his eyes. “I'm sorry…” he whispers and she breaks more.

As he hugged Layla back, he felt like how he used to be with her. The way his heart beat at how close she was, but right now it felt hurt for her. Sadness as he Sees her cry. Maybe if they had gotten married instead, Zayne Would of never made her cry, never would have argued with her and always agreed with her. Everything.

“Zayne…?” He turns and sees you, standing right at the door, a box of macaroons at hand. And he remembered. He remembered you'd be at the hospital in his office with a gift. He felt guilty but all he thought of really was Layla and how hurt she is. You awkwardly looked away and said, “I'll leave. Um, I'll just leave these here…” You placed the macaroons down on the desk. You looked at Zayne who was looking right back at you. Zayne saw hurt in your face again, maybe even betrayal? It was the same face You had when you saw Layla and Sylus dance in their wedding. Zayne said nothing though. He still had his arms wrapped around Layla, his head laying on top of hers. But as he watched you leave, he felt guilty, even more than before.

It was quite between you and Sylus. You fidget with your fingers as you stare down them. “What happened?” You asked, still not looking at him. Sylus looked away, he seemed to feel guilty. He didn't feel guilty. “Me and Layla argued.” He says. Ah, the first argument for the newlyweds. “About what exactly?”

“You.” Your eyes go wide and quickly look at him. “Me?” You asked and he nodded. “You've been distant. You don't answer any of my texts, maybe like a day or two later and you don't call.” He says. “It had me worried. You know how worried I've been? I've had to make Luke and Kieran search for you to see what you've been up to. All they told me is you've been with that doctor.” He says. “I don't trust him, I've told you before.” He glares. Your eyes are wide at his words. “So you kept talking about me to your wife?!” You yelled and Sylus raised a brow at your reaction. “I just said I've been worried about you and you're mad?”

“Of course I am!” You yelled. “You talked to your wife about me? On your honeymoon? Seriously? Think about it this way, what if Layla was talking about Zayne to you saying how she's worried he hasn't answered any of her texts or calls, how would you feel?!” You say and Sylus looked at you. Men sure are stupid. He just looked down and you shook your head. “I understand you've been worried about me but you have to know I can handle things myself. And yes, I've been hanging out with Zayne. There is nothing wrong with that.” You say. Sylus nods and says, “I would like to apologize…” you shook your head and said, “No, apologize to her. Not me. You have to talk to her and explain. You are a smart man but for some things you aren't Sylus.” You say.

You noticed something though. You didn't react as you used to towards him. Your heart didn't jump as you saw him or how he talked to you. Nothing. Maybe if you had heard that a month ago where you were madly in love with him, then maybe you would have fallen more for him and even would have done something. But here you are, helping him try to talk to his wife and apologize. You felt normal around him. You sigh and say, “I will be back in a bit alright? I don't suggest taking some time off from seeing each other as the relationship might affect it, but talk to her. Reassure her that you are with her. And if she needs time, then let it happen, just keep talking and text Her.” You say. Maybe everything you are telling him is something you would have wanted with him. But now, you don't and only want what's best for his wife and him.

“Where are you going?” He asks. “To see Zayne. He had surgery today and I got him something.” You catch yourself smiling at the box of deserts and Sylus noticed too. He nods, understanding. “See if Layla is there, you don't need to tell her anything, I'll just want to know where she is, that's all.” He says. You nod and grab the box. “Help yourself around.” And leave.

You walked to the hospital building. The closer you got, tell more anxious you'd get. You wondered what Zayne would be doing now? Be in his office and review work? Sit and simply think? What is it he's doing?

You walked to the elevator and as the numbers got closer to Zayne's office. You were smiling and noticed that. You noticed how your heart beat fast and how anxious you felt just at the thought of him. The doors slid open and you walked out. As you get closer and closer, You breathe in and open the door. Zayne lets you anyway now. No need to knock, he will know. But you Were met with Layla crying in His arms.

The strange thing was the hug didn't hurt, it was the expression on his face. He looked like he had missed her, he felt hurt for her and most of all, he looks In love. The way his hand coos Her back and holds Her makes your heart ache. And just by that, you can tell Zayne really hasn't moved on, has he? “Zayne…” you called his name and he turned to look at you, his eyes going wide. It was quiet. Your eyes go to Layla who still had no clue you were even in the same room. Well, now you know where she is.

“I'll leave. Um, I'll just leave these here…” You placed the macaroons down on the desk. Your hands shake as you stare at the box for a second. You looked at him and saw he looked nervous, as if he had gotten caught stealing candy like a kid. You looked at Layla and back at Zayne before leaving, closing the door behind you. You stare down at your shoes and bite the side of your cheek as you walk to the elevator and press the button. Your whole body felt tired. You felt tired. Your feet somehow make you walk back home with the strength you had left in you.

You were hurt once again.

You had forgotten Sylus was even at home. You opened the door and were welcomed by the smell of food. You slip off your shoes and walk to the kitchen. “You don't have a lot of things Here sweetie, so I cooked what I could with what you had.” He says and turns to look at you but all he was met with was hurt. “Is something the matter?” He asks. Your gaze was low, avoiding him and all you could do was nod. Sylus knew you wouldn't want to talk about it so he stayed quiet. “Just take a seat and I'll give you some dinner.” He says and goes back to humming. You quickly got distracted because of how horrible he Sang. You chuckled and sat down.

Dinner was made with a glass of wine on the side. But all you thought about was Zayne. Sylus probably was thinking about Layla too. And you spoke, “At the wedding…” Sylus raised A brow. “You told me if I was hiding something.” You say and he nods. “I was…but if I had told you it was wrong. So I said when the time comes I'll tell you.” You say. And you felt right now that possibly today was truly the right time. “When I got the invitation, I was devastated. I cried when I saw your signature On it because it was true, you were going to get married.” You say as you look down at the now finished dinner plate. Sylus stared at you as you spoke, he could see how much you've been holding in and how painful it has been. As he heard you, it started to click to him. “At the wedding too, I cried. But when I saw you dance with her, I felt so broken, that my heart just started to hurt because I remembered the time we had danced together. It meant so much to me because that's when I realized how in love I was with you.” You say and move your gaze to his. “I don't expect you to risipricate the feelings. I already know that. But I just wanted to say it.” You sigh, the feeling of something taken off your chest. Sylus had thought for a moment and he nodded. “Thank you for telling me.” He says. You nod and start to eat.

It's been four days already since Sylus decided to stay over at your place. You had agreed only if he helped around the house to clean. He may be your boss but you are on vacation right now and he is not going to be sleeping here for free. The past four days you didn't contact Zayne. Everytime you thought of him your stomach hurt from anxiety and you'd distract yourself. You kept remembering how he held Layla, how he comforted her and the expression on his face. How could you forget that? You'd be at random thoughts by yourself in your bedroom about things. Things as in: was your love life messed up? Why is it messed up by tragedy? One sided love situations and conflict.

As for Layla and Sylus, they still talk and keep contact. Layla had wanted some distance from each other for a while, saying it was the best choice. You wonder if maybe Zayne had suggested that so he could be around Layla again. Sylus didn't like the idea but went along with it, he just had told Layla to text him often. They do make phone calls here and there but it's awkward since that wall is still between them. You can tell how desperate Sylus is to see Layla again. Sylus was on a call in the living room with Layla and you were in your bedroom again with your own thoughts. That's when the doorbell rings, you snapped out of your thoughts but still stayed in the same position on your bed. You knew Sylus would open the door either way. “Are they home?” You heard a familiar voice and stood up. You hesitated for a second. As soon as you heard his voice, you were quick to follow. You sigh and walk to the front door where Sylus and Zayne stood. Zayne's eyes moved to look at you and he seemed a bit tired, like he hadn't slept well the past nights. “Here she is.” Sylus says and walks away, leaving you two to talk.

“Are You alright? You haven't answered any of my texts and I worried something might have happened.” was the first thing he said. You avoid eye contact but look back at him. “Sorry, I've kept my phone on do not disturb.” You admit. He nods and says, “I've been trying to contact you for the past two days, I was worried since you didn't answer my calls and texts.” You are a quick texter.

“I Apologize, Zayne. I'll check on my phone again.” You say and Zayne sighs. “Is something the matter?” He asks. You shook your head. “No. Just handling Sylus. I'm sure you're doing the same with Layla.” He looked away and nodded. You nod back and say, “I have to go back in. I need to help cook dinner.” Zayne looks at you. It seemed he didn't want you to leave but let's you, giving you a nod. “Alright, but please, just answer my texts or calls.” He pleaded before he excused himself and left. You close the door and quickly ran to your room for your phone you unlocked it and saw everything

I would like to apologize about today. If you Have time, could you Come to my office tomorrow?

I hope your night goes well today.

And then it goes to the next day.

Thank you for the sweet treat, they were delicious. I Apologize for the calls as well.

Would you like to go out to eat at a restaurant? Layla recommended it, she says it's good.

Hello?

Missing call

Are you alright?

Then a day passes.

How was your day?

Is something the matter? Layla had told me Sylus is at your place? She says you're fine.

Did I do something wrong?

And then the next day.

I am sorry but I worry for you. I'll be going to your house to see how you are.

And it ends there. You sigh and answer the texts,

Hey Zayne, sorry again. And yes, I would like to go to the restaurant. Just tell me when and what time and I can see.

To your surprise he answered quickly.

Is tomorrow night fine? I can pick you up.

You looked at his text, your heart beating quickly, making you groan at your decision.

Yes, that works.

Layla had talked with Sylus and she said she needed some space. She would still contact him but needed to think things through. As for Zayne, He stayed beside her. Always did. The first day, he had helped Layla feel better by making her something to eat, get her to watch something to distract herself but all she did was look at her phone and answer it as quickly as she could when a notification came through. Which would bother Zayne. And Layla noticed but she said nothing about it, why should she?

Zayne looks at the TV, it was some romance Christmas movie Layla had picked. He saw the two love interests build a snowman and quickly thought of you. He remembered when he made the small snow kitty for you and saw how your eyes went wide and they shined at how cute it was. He couldn't help but smile at that thought. But for a second he remembered the expression you had when you saw him with Layla. The hurt. He looked away from the TV, no longer wanting to see it as it reminded him of you. He walked to his office and from afar he could still see Layla stare at her phone screen in hopes for any message or call to come through. Zayne looks down at his own phone and sighs, no message from you at all. Maybe you have been busy with something since Sylus came back. He grabbed his phone and texted you.

I would like to apologize about today. If you Have time, could you Come to my office tomorrow?

I hope your night goes well today.

The next day comes. Layla was asleep in the guest room while he got up early to head to work. He opens the fridge and sees the box of macaroons. Zayne's sweet tooth kicked in and he grabbed one out of the box. He took a bite out of it but it tasted bland. Yes, it was sweet as he always likes but it doesn't taste the same. That's when he thought of you, when you two went to eat something after his dentist appointment. You being the tease and evil person you are, got yourself some macaroons and eat them slowly in front of him. It did bother him because he did want to eat one but the stupid cavity was killing him. That's when he grabbed your hand without even thinking and took a bite out of it. Your eyes went wide and felt his lips touch your thumb before he backed away and chewed. “It's good.” He says and you groan. “Your cavity! Listen to what the dentist said!” You say as you pull on his shirt. “Doctors lie.” He mumbles. You rolled your eyes and just laughed.

Zayne was brought back to his own reality, the box at front of him. He sighs and looks at his phone. Nothing from you yet. He quickly typed:

Thank you for the sweet treat, they were delicious.

He had expected you to see his text already but nothing. He sighs and leaves his house. At work he was staring at his phone any second he could. Nothing from you yet, which had him start to worry. You never do this, well, haven't done any of this before. If you were busy you'd always tell him beforehand. Now nothing, at all. He'd send a text here and there and maybe a call or two but nothing. At home, Layla talked about Sylus but in reality, he didn't pay much attention, he was so busy on his phone that he just couldn't.

Layla looks at Zyane and asks, “Is everything alright?” but he'd nod. Layla wasn't stupid, she's known him since they were kids. “Tell me.” She says, this time being in front of him. It almost felt like the right moment to speak since he's finally gotten her full attention now. His lips part and speak. “I am in love with you.” but when they slipped his lips, it felt wrong. Yes, it is wrong he basically confessed to a married woman but it was the fact his own feelings told him that it was wrong. That maybe he just wasn't in love with her anymore.

Layla's eyes were wide at his sudden confession. “Zayne…” she says and signs. “I'm married to Sylus. You already know.” She says and Zayne nods. “I…I know.” He says but it still felt wrong. Like as if those three words weren't meant for her but for you. “I Apologize, Layla. No. It is wrong of me I-” he groans and sighs. He finally speaks about you to Layla, how he feels around you, how he's felt, and what happened at the wedding. Which Layla listens to it all. “I see.” she nods. “Well, Sylus talked to me about her as well.” He quickly turned and raised a brow. “He is staying with her. I thought you knew.” She says but Zayne shook his head. She looked away and sighs. “Just take her out to this restaurant, yes?” She said as she looked it up on his phone. “It's really pretty there.” She smiles.

The next day came and Zayne couldn't stand it anymore. You completely ignored all his texts and calls and he's worried. He grabbed his keys after work and drove to your house. Zayne was met with Sylus at the door instead of you. “Where is she?” He asks, which sounds a bit demanding but he's desperate to see you. He hears footsteps and he sees you, finally again. You seemed fine, maybe a bit tired which he worried about but that didn't matter, he finally got to see you.

“Are You alright? You haven't answered any of my texts and I worried something might have happened.” was the first thing he said. He noticed your eyes move away from him. You were avoiding eye contact. “Sorry, I've kept my phone on to not disturb.” You admit. He nods and says, “I've been trying to contact you for the past almost four days, I was worried since you didn't answer my calls and texts.” You are a quick texter.

“I Apologize, Zayne. I'll check on my phone again.” You say and Zayne sighs. “Is something the matter?” He asks. You shook your head. “No. Just handling Sylus. I'm sure you're doing the same with Layla.” He looked away and nodded. You nod back and say, “I have to go back in. I need to help cook dinner.” Zayne looks at you. It seemed he didn't want you to leave but let's you, giving you a nod. “Alright, but please, just answer my texts or calls.” He pleaded before he excused himself and left. He sat down in his car and sighs, looking up. His phone vibrates and sees you replied to his other text where he had suggested a restaurant to eat at.

Hey Zayne, sorry again. And yes, I would like to go to the restaurant. Just tell me when and what time and I can see.

He was quick to reply, happy to see your text:

Is tomorrow night fine? I can pick you up.

Yes, that works.

The restaurant was nice, the lighting was great from where Zayne and you sat and had a great view outside the window. You two were at 5 stories high in a building. You two could see the lights from below. You had probably worn the wrong wear for winter but still went anyway. Zayne had taken notice of something, you didn't start a conversation. You always do. You always bring some little thing and it goes after that. He cleared his throat, making you look up at him. “Layla had recommended this place, it has a nice view too. I think I like it.” He says and you just nod. He didn't expect that reaction, he expected more like how you always do. “What do you think of the place?” He asks. Zayne was very nervous, very. He isn't used to you being so quiet. He honestly thinks you don't like the place.

“It is nice, it does have a nice view from here.” You say and your orders come. He thanked the waiter and looked at you. You didn't seem very enthusiastic today. What was wrong? Did he do something wrong? Is the restaurant not to your liking? But Layla said it was the best place. “I'll be back. I am going to use the restroom. You can start to eat without me.” You say, the chair screeching as you pushed yourself away and stood up. Zayne sighs and looks down at the food, his own appetite going away. What was wrong with you? Are you okay?

“Zayne?” He looked up and saw Layla. His eyes are wide and says, “what are you doing here?” she smiled and nervously looked away. “I came here to eat. With Sylus.” But didn't he say at least they needed a week apart? This is Layla, she never listens anyways. Layla then just starts to talk about the talk Sylus and her had.

You didn't want to be at the restaurant. Well, more like not be around Zayne. You still haven't gotten over everything. When he mentioned Layla you just nod, what do you say? He just keeps mentioning Layla while you two are eating, it's annoying.

When the food arrived, you excused Yourself and walked to the restroom. You looked at yourself in the Mirror And sigh. Why are you like this? Zayne genuinely wants to spend time with you again like last time. You smiled at that thought. You washed your hands and walked outside. As you walked out, you noticed Layla with Zayne. You saw the way Zayne’s eyes looked at her, the way his head tilted to the side slightly to listen to her speak. He hummed and nodded at the things she said to him. His expression looked like: yes, I am listening to you. But that look said more. Yes, keep talking to me. His eyes never leave her face as he smiles at her and nods. It almost felt like back in high school when a boy looked at a girl he liked and listened to everything she said and agreed with almost everything she said. You wanted to be her. You wish you were her. Why was she alway so lucky? Why couldn't it be you? Was this hatred? Was this jealousy? Which one is it because you yourself don't even know. Why did he even invite you anyways if he'd be talking to her and looking at her like a puppy dog does rather than to be looking at you. It was the exact same with Sylus. All the same the exact look and head tilt. And exactly the same right now, be in the background of them both. Why are you letting yourself repeat all of this over again? Why are you allowing this pain? Why can't you let go? Why are you allowing him to make you feel so confused? He's given you a sign that he does like you but does he love you? Just as much as you love him? Soon his eyes moved away from her and saw you, but it seemed he saw your own expression too. Pain. You just stood there as you stared right back at him. Maybe you weren't mad at Layla, it was Zayne you were mad at. As much as you didn't wish you could, you can't control how you feel. Why is he like this? He's giving you so many mixed signals that you finally snapped.

You quickly walked up to the table, grabbed your purse and walked away. You walked to the elevator and bit down on your lip as you held in the tears. You quickly walked out as it made its stop and opened the doors, wind swishing in your face, making you shiver. Winter snow and yet, you didn't bring a damn coat. You sigh but still walk out. You'll just have to endure it.

Zayne was quick, he excused himself, paid the bill and left. He rushed to the elevator and rushed out. The wind blew in his face once he opened the doors to leave. You were probably freezing too. He ran and he finally saw your silhouette. He ran and called your name, making you turn. You cried? “Zayne, don't run, the floor can be slippery!” You say as you walk up to him. But you suddenly stopped. Zayne reaches you, panting And looks at you. “You can't walk out here in the snow, it's cold.” He says as he holds your shoulder. You tried to push him away from your shoulder but he had a good grip on you. “Please, let me drive you back home.” He begged and took his coat off. He places it on your shoulders as he looks at you. He cupped your chin with his hand and lifted it up to see you had indeed cried. Why did you cry? What had he done wrong? “What did I do?” He asks. Zayne has to know immediately what it was that he did to make you cry. Your eyes looked away and he sighs. “Please tell me, what is it? I've never seen you cry and I never want to see you cry because of me. Please tell me what I've done wrong and never do again.”

Zayne pleaded, making your heart beat. Right now, probably wasn't the best time to react to how he pleaded. He's never been like this to you, so his pleading made your face Heat up. You wanted to stay mad at him. But how could you when he was practically begging for you to explain what he's done wrong so he never does again. This is why you love him. “I…” you stop. You were about to say you love him. Was now the right time? When will it ever be the right time? You want to tell him because you're scared that it will all happen again when it's too late for you to say how bad you fell in love with him. He was waiting, shivering while he still held his hands on your shoulder as he waited. You looked at him and suddenly got closer to him. Zayne looks down at you and gets closer too. Why are you two getting closer? What is going on? Zayne's hands creep to cup your head and he brings you closer, his lips brush against yours and stop, was he waiting for you to push him away? You quickly crushed your lips against his and wrapped your arms around him. You kissed him and felt his own lips move against yours, making your heart beat fast. You moved your hand to his face and rubbed your thumb against his cheek as you kissed him. You two pulled apart needing to breathe and you speak, “I love you Zayne.” You were nervous. “I fell in love with you, Zayne. I fell in love with you. I felt so hurt that you hugged Layla, that you talked to her, that you looked at her the way I wanted you to look at me.” You felt the tears come again. “I feel so hurt because it feels like it's all happening again where it's always me who falls in love, it's always one sided. That's why I left. That's why I cried.”

Zayne backed away to look at her, his hands never leaving her. He was guilty for making her feel this way. He never wanted to and never will again. “I'm sorry.” He apologized. “I am sorry for making you feel this way and for confusing you.” He says as his thumb rubbed your cheek, wiping away a tear. “I love you too, and I am sure of it.” He says. Your eyes went wide at his words and you were about to say something about Layla but he spoke first,

“I told Layla how I felt, I had to. I can't keep my feelings in.” He says. “It was obvious I'd be rejected but…it felt as if I let go of something heavy, it was reliving.” He says and you lean to his touch. “But it made me think that I really do not love her. I simply missed my friend.” He says. “Being around you made me forget, I want to apologize for everything making you feel this way.” You smiled and just waited for him to say the words, the words you've been wanting to hear again. “I love you.” He says and you brought him in for another kiss. You pulled away and said, “Let's go home. You're shivering, Zayne. It is cold.” but his lips kept kissing you. You smiled and said, “We can go to your place…?” He stopped and looked at you just to confirm if it was what you were actually thinking about and you just grinned. Zayne blushed and sighs. He fixed his glasses and cleared his throat. “Alright.” He said and you laughed. “You are so cute, Zayne.” You say. “Before we go, let's go for a walk. I still need to process everything you told me.” You say as you hold on to his coat and Zayne smiles as he sees your blush. “Alright.” He wrapped an arm around you to keep you warmer. “We could go to a shop some day to get you a coat.” He says. You lean on to him and nod. “That sounds nice.” You whispered and you two walked.

Zayne's hands never leave you as soon as you walk inside his house. You weren't even given time to slip out of your shoes. Zayne already had his lips on your neck, his hands holding your waist. You softly gasp and hold on to him. “I need to take my shoes off Zayne.” You whisper and he gently sucks on your neck. He kissed it and held your hand. “Okay.” He whispers and kisses your hand. He goes on his knees and holds your foot up. Slowly remove your shoes and kiss your thigh. He moved his other hand to remove the other one and kissed your other thigh. Your heart was beating like crazy and you couldn't resist anymore. He was just everything. You wanted him so badly.

Zayne smiles at you and says, “You wore a tight dress with tights on a cold day with no coat…” He moved his hands up your thighs as he never broke eye contact. “It looks perfect on you, just isn't perfect for winter. You'll catch a cold.” He says as he holds your inner thigh and squeezes it. You bite your lip and run your fingers through his hair. “I have a doctor to care for me if I do get sick.” You say and he chuckles. “I suppose you are right.” He kissed your inner thigh and his hands went higher and higher, making you pant and feel anxious at his touch. He looks up at you asking for permission. You nod and feel his hands go under your dress, gently pulling down the black tights. He raised your dress a bit and could see the wet spot. You anxiously bite down on your thumb as you look down at him and he smiles. He rubbed his thumb on the wet spot, making you jump.

Zayne slowly moved his thumb up and gently rubbed on your clit, making you shiver. He was staring at you still, seeing every reaction and movement you made, his eyes never leaving you. You lean against the cold wall as his thumb rubbed gently. His other fingers moved to the side of the panties and moved them aside. He took off your tights and panties fully and got between your legs, looking up at you. His hands slowly brushed up and down your thighs, his face getting closer and closer to your core. His thumb brushes up and down between your folds. Zayne groans at your soft whimper. He opens your folds with his fingers. You gasp as you feel his tongue brush in your folds, Zayne needing a taste, he was hungry and desperate. He looks up at you and his tongue goes to your clit, attacking it and sucking on it, almost as if he was a starving man. You moan and hold on to his hair. You could hear the slips, groans and moans that would come from Zayne. You were getting closer and closer, you needed more. You started to ride his face, his nose brushing against your clit as he ate you. His eyes cut tightly close, the grip he had on your thighs tight. His hands move to your ass, pushing you closer to him. His other hand was already unbuckling his belt and pants. The tent in his pants was so painful. He sucked your clit and you see stars. You moaned his name as you arched your back, riding his face though your orgasam. Zayne groans and pulls away to gasp. He looks at you, sweating and panting after the orgasam.

God, you look so beautiful right now. He needed you. He quickly gets up and brings you in for a kiss. You could taste yourself on him as you shared the kiss, your hands quickly wrapping around him. His hands went to your waist and he pulled away panting. “I need you.” He says and lifts you up, making you yelp. You were gently placed on the bed and you looked at him. He unbutton his shirt and your eyes go wide. What a view. He looks at you and grins. You grabbed his arm and pulled him to you, moving your hands to his abs and smiled. “Wow doctor.” You giggled and he chuckled. Your hands slowly moved up to his chest, making him gasp and groan. You could see how red he was. It went all the way to his ears. You kissed his cheek and whispered, “I can't anymore Zayne, I need you.” sending shivers and making his cock twitch in his boxers. Your hands run up and down slowly on his sides. Zayne's eyes moved down to your chest. He can no longer look away. You're looking right at him too, no? Then he has every right to look as well.

His cold hands slowly moved to the strings for your dress and he pulled them down. Zayne looked at you and you were staring right back at him, your top teeth biting down on your lip and your chest rising up and down. Your hard nipples could feel the fabric slowly get pulled down and finally, they were out. You looked at him and waited for his next words. But it is more of an action guy. He moved his hand to your chest and cupped one. He goes to your other breast and kisses the nipple, making you whine and bring your chest closer to his face. He opened his mouth and gently sucked on the hard nipple that was eager for his attention. His tongue swirls around in circles, making you moan and run your fingers through his black hair. You moaned his name and he looked back at you.

His cock was already out, his boxer gods knew where. Zayne pulls away with a ‘pop’ and goes to suck the other one. He wanted to make you feel good, make up for the time he made you feel hurt, feel betrayed by him. He always wanted to do this to you, make you moan and make you feel good. He's had dreams about it. That night he made that little snow kitty, he had a wet dream about you, moaning his name and begging for him. He woke up to his boxer wet and had to hand wash that. Which was embarrassing really. And since then he's thought of you and had more dreams of you. So having you here right now, made him so happy and especially turned on. Zayne moved his hand down to your thighs and gently rubbed your clit. He opens your wet folds and moans on your breast. He grabbed his cock with his other hand and rubbed the tip of his cock between your wet folds, his tip more wet with your folds. You squirm under him, moving your hips to feel more.

Zayne couldn't hold it any longer and looked in his nightstand. A box of condoms. He quickly opened it and gently put one on. You looked at him and tilted your head. He grabbed a pillow and laid it under you. “For better support.” He says. You smiled and nodded. Zayne brings you in for another kiss and gently pushes Himself in you, making you two gasp. You felt so warm and tight around his cock. He opened his eyes and saw how your eyebrows arched, your teeth biting at the bottom of your lip and your chest rising and filling. He kissed your cheek and whispered, “You are so beautiful.” before he thrust, making you moan. His hands moved to your hips for better support and moved his own hips away from yours and thrusted in once again. His pace was slow, making you whimper and moan. You needed more, you needed more of him. “Zayne, please.” You pleaded, his cock twitching inside of you. His thrusts become faster this time, making you hold on to him. “Z-Zayne! Ah! So-so good!” You moaned, making him groan at how you felt and sounded.

He pressed his chest against yours and brought you in for a kiss. The kiss was sloppy, the pleasure in your body making it impossible to give him a proper kiss. He Slips his tongue in you, his tongue exploring your mouth. Your eyes rolled back for a second, your breath becoming heavy and louder, your back arching and sweaty everywhere. You were close again. So close. But he stopped. You whimper and look at him, your expression showing why he even stopped. “Not yet.” He pants out and suddenly you're flipped. You're on top of him, his cock was pressed against your ass. He was smiling up at you. What an amazing view it was to him. To see you on top of him, panting and looking down at him. His hands grab the dress and pull it off of you. It got in the way anyways. Zayne grabbed his cock and taped it on your ass. You grinned down at him and said, “You're an impatient doctor. I thought you were supposed to be.” You say as you rise yourself up. “How can I?” Zayne says and pressed the tip of his cock to your cunt and you lower yourself. He groans at the once again warm sensation on his cock. Oh how he wished he could feel you without the stupid condom.

You pressed your hands down on his chest and started to move, back and forth. Your poor clit rubbing against his lower stomach, getting it wet. Zayne holds on to your hips and thrust in you, making you scream. He lifts his hips up and fucks himself in to you while he sucked on one of your nipples. You grabbed on to the head of the bed as he fucked himself in to you. “Ah- I love you.” He suddenly groans out, making your pussy clench. He bites down on your nipple. You could hear his pants getting heavy and louder. His thrust became more sloppy. You moaned, “I L-love y-you- ah!” Your eyes rolled back, throwing your head back as you came in his cock, making Zayne groan and hold tightly onto you as he cums as well, filling the rubber up with his hot cum.

You two pant, trying to catch each other's breath, your sweat mixed with his, the room feeling warm and the lingering smell of sex filling it. Zayne gently lays you down in the bed, took off the condom, wrapped it up and threw it away. He grabbed a towel and handed it to you. “Here, wipe off the sweat. I'll prepare a bath for us.” He said and placed a kiss on your cheek. You smiled at him and kissed him back before he could leave. You gently wiped off the sweat on you and stared up at the ceiling as all you can remember what had happened. You smile to yourself and think, today everything went well. He loves you, he really does and he proved it to you today.

Zayne gently moved his hands up and down your side as he kissed your neck. You relaxed on to him, the warm water and cent of lavender in the bath making you feel relaxed. You talked to him about Sylus and how he had stayed at your place to explain why Sylus had even opened the door. You also told him that you too confessed to him but you didn't want to hear Sylus opinion, it was something you just wanted to get off your chest. Zayne listened to everything you told him as he continued to kiss your neck.

“Will you stop? Don't your lips feel sore already?” You smiled and Zayne Chuckles. “They are sore.” He placed one last kiss on your cheek. “How do you feel?” He asks. “Amazing.” You smiled. Zayne shook his head and said, “No, in general. Do you feel hurt? Sore?” ah, the doctor instincts. But it did feed his pride a bit when you said that. “I'm alright, Zayne.” You reassured him. As Zayne watched you close your eyes and relax on him, he thought for a second that maybe, he just wants to marry you right now. His hands slowly move to your breast and he cups them. “Hey!” you say and he just chuckles. He closed his eyes and imagined you in your beautiful wedding dress, your beautifully made hair, and your long veil. You two slowly danced together as you looked up at him and smiled, maybe even cry, well, it would be him crying at how beautiful you would look.

Zayne just wished that the day would come when everything was ready just for him to ask.

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Tags:

@nm4565natty @animegamerfox @crimsonrubie

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I am so sorry it took me a good while to post. As you saw in the top im not sure if I'd write something small but who knows? Thank yoh everyone for reading i love you all <3

#x reader #smut #love and deepspace #lads x reader #lads zayne #lads #x non mc #lads x non mc reader #zayne x non mc #zayne smut #zayne fic #zayne x reader #zayne #zayne love and deepspace

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daxisyzz · 2 months ago

Text

⁺‧˚ ⋆ 𝐁𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐥 | 𝒃𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒚 𝒃𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒔 ⋆ ˚‧⁺

𝑬𝒑𝒊𝒔𝒐𝒅𝒆 5: 𝑴𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑩𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒔 𝑭𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒚

Pairings: ceo!boss!bucky barnes × fem!reader

Other characters: coworkers!Wanda, Sam, and Peter, Bucky’s mom, sister and grandfather.

Contents: fake dating, chaotic relationship dynamic, workplace romance, contract relationship, Bucky is surprisingly soft, protective Bucky?, rude family member.

Summary: Bucky’s grandfather invites you to a formal dinner, where you’re met with disapproving glares and passive-aggressive questions. Just when you think you’re failing, Bucky does the unthinkable—he defends you. The night ends with him whispering, “You did good.” (Why does that make your heart race?!)

Word count: 3.6k+

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Inspired by the kdrama "Business Proposal"

Previously on Business Proposal...

Your feet ached. Your head buzzed from the forced conversation and endless smiling. But your heart, that was the real traitor. Because it wouldn’t stop replaying one stupid, small moment:

The way his fingers had brushed your cheek. The look in his eyes right after.

You groaned into your blanket.

Get a grip.

Then your phone buzzed. A message. From Bucky.

Bucky: Plums are my favorite. I just said wrong to mess with you.

You blinked at the screen. Then read it again. A laugh bubbled out of your throat, unexpected and warm. You sank deeper into the bed, smiling against your pillow.

Maybe he wasn’t a complete machine after all. Maybe just maybe there was something under all that armor. And maybe that was the real danger.

______________________•

The harsh buzz of your alarm made you squint your eyes open. You groggily reached over to shut it off, the weight of the night before still pressing down on you. Everything felt... quiet. Like the calm after a storm. You stretched, trying to ease the ache in your back from the hours you’d spent in heels, and then... it hit you.

Your phone screen lit up with a flood of notifications.

At first, you figured it was nothing. Work group chat? Maybe a text from Nat? But when you unlocked your phone, it was as if the world was suddenly screaming at you.

Dozens of headlines, flashing across your screen in bold, relentless letters:

"Bucky Barnes: The Billionaire CEO’s Newest Girlfriend"

"Bucky Barnes Spotted Out With Mystery Woman – Is She His New Love Interest?"

"From being a bachelor to overnight relationship? The CEO’s Private Life Revealed!"

You felt your stomach flip. The photos, the comments — everything. There was no hiding now. The world had found out about your "relationship" with Bucky, and the internet was running wild with it.

Before you could even process the articles, your phone buzzed again. This time, it was the work group chat blowing up.

Sam: YOU'RE FAMOUS! I always knew you'd leave us for a rich dude.

Wanda: SHUT UP SAM SHE’S A QUEEN!! LOOK AT HER IN THAT DRESS. EATING.

Peter: Do you need a flower girl?? Asking for a friend (it’s me)

Sam: Pls marry him and give us a paid day off as your wedding gift.

The texts kept coming, flooding your phone, but you couldn’t keep up with them. You didn’t dare open Nat’s texts. Not yet. You didn’t know if you were ready to deal with what she'd have to say about the situation.

You scrolled down to see more headlines — some were kinder, others less so. Some even suggested you were a gold digger or that the relationship was a publicity stunt. Your chest tightened.

"Great," you muttered under your breath, tossing the phone aside as if it were an uninvited guest. This was exactly why you hated being in the spotlight.

But just as you were about to face the cold reality of the situation, your phone rang, Bucky’s name lighting up the screen.

You picked it up in a daze, your pulse jumping at the sound of his voice on the other end.

"Morning," Bucky greeted, his voice calm and steady. "How’re you holding up?"

"How do you think I'm holding up?" You sighed, staring at the glowing screen of your phone. "The entire world knows, Bucky."

He was silent for a moment. "Yeah, I know. I didn’t expect it to hit so fast. Listen, I have something for you. Can you come over?"

You glanced at your reflection in the mirror, the chaos on your phone still looming over you. You’d expected Bucky to be corporate, polished, maybe a little distant. The last thing you were expecting was for him to invite you to his house.

“I—I don’t know, Barnes. Everything’s... everything’s a mess.”

“You need to get out of your head," Bucky said softly. "Come over. I promise, it'll be worth it."

You hesitated, then sighed, knowing there was no way out of this conversation now.

When you pulled up to his penthouse, you had expected the sleek, modern exterior of the building to intimidate you. But what you hadn’t anticipated was the sheer height of it. The towering glass and steel structure rose far above the city, a clear beacon of wealth and luxury.

The car stopped, and your heart pounded as you stared at the building, suddenly feeling small. The elevator ride up was quick and silent, the hum of machinery beneath your feet almost peaceful.

When the doors opened, you stepped into a spacious lobby, one that was as modern as it was minimalist. Everything was white marble and polished chrome, reflecting the city skyline beyond.

But when the elevator doors opened onto the next floor, you stepped into another world.You weren’t in a corporate boardroom or a high-powered CEO’s office anymore.

You were in his space.

Bucky’s penthouse was… well, breathtaking. A mix of industrial and modern, with walls of glass that gave way to a view of the city’s skyline. But it wasn’t the kind of cold, impersonal place you'd expect from a billionaire CEO. The furniture was cozy, oversized. Sofas draped with blankets, bookshelves lined with dog-eared novels, and the faint smell of coffee lingering in the air. There was even a low-sitting coffee table, surrounded by chairs that invited conversation rather than cold, transactional meetings.

And then, you saw him. Bucky.

You were used to seeing him in impeccably tailored suits, crisp and perfect. The Bucky Barnes you knew was a cold, calculated man — always put together, always in control.

But now?

Now, he was wearing a simple t-shirt and joggers, his sleeves rolled up to reveal the tattoos that stretched down his arms. The casualness of it made your heart skip a beat. It was like seeing him stripped of his armor, just... Bucky. A person.

He stood at the kitchen counter, pouring coffee into two mugs. “I was making some coffee,” he said with a slight grin, clearly amused by your surprised expression. “I figured you could use some after everything.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him in this setting, so unguarded.

"So," you said, carefully approaching the counter, trying to shake off the nerves bubbling inside you. "This is... this is your place."

Bucky's smile softened, a hint of something warmer behind it. "Yeah. Surprised?" he asked, setting a cup down in front of you.

You nodded. "I didn’t expect you to be so... normal."

Bucky’s chuckle was warm and easy. “Normal? You don’t get to be ‘normal’ with the kind of life I have. But you should stay awhile. I’ll make you some breakfast, if you want.”

You nodded again, grateful for the distraction. This wasn’t how you’d expected to spend your morning, but right now, Bucky’s calmness felt like a lifeline.

After a brief, pleasant silence, Bucky leaned against the counter, hands casually tucked into his pockets. “My family’s in town today. My grandfather... he wants to meet you.” He studied your face carefully as if gauging your reaction.

Your eyes widened. “Wait. What?”

“You heard me.” Bucky's smile softened but held that edge of seriousness you recognized. “I know it’s a lot, but I’m asking you to come with me. You don’t have to do anything crazy. Just... be yourself.”

You swallowed hard, already feeling the anxiety crawling up your throat. “I don’t know. Your grandfather... he’s kind of... intense.”

Bucky stepped closer, his voice quiet and reassuring. “I know. But he’s old-school. A little rough around the edges, but it’s his way. You just need to give him time.”

You’d agreed hesitantly, even though your heart was racing. You weren't sure what to expect, but you knew this would change everything between you and Bucky. The meeting with his family was more than just an introduction; it felt like a test. A moment that would determine whether this fake relationship would ever feel real.

The drive to Bucky’s family home was as peaceful as it could be, but the silence between you two was thick with unspoken tension. Bucky sat in the driver's seat, his focus on the road, but you could feel the energy between you shift. This wasn’t just another dinner or a casual act — you were walking into his world, into the heart of his family, where everything would be scrutinized.

His usual confidence, the effortless charm that came with being a billionaire CEO, was gone. In its place was a man who seemed... uncertain.

You both drove through the city, then past the urban sprawl into a more serene, affluent neighborhood. The houses here were sprawling, well-kept estates surrounded by green lawns and trees, the kind of places you'd expect a family like the Barnes to call home.

When you reached the house, you couldn’t help but marvel at its grandeur. The Barnes estate stood at the end of a long, winding driveway. It was one of those houses that made you feel both awed and small at the same time. The exterior was a mix of classic brickwork and modern touches, a beautiful and expensive home — not one you'd ever expect to walk into as a guest, let alone as someone’s "girlfriend".

Bucky parked the car in front of the large stone steps that led up to the front door, and the nerves in your stomach spiked again.

"It’ll be okay," he murmured, turning to look at you. His smile was tight, but you could see the reassurance in his eyes. It was as if he was trying to convince both of you, but you didn’t have the heart to argue.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for whatever was about to happen.

As you stepped out of the car, you found yourself at the threshold of the Barnes family home. The front door swung open before you could even ring the bell, revealing a woman who looked remarkably like Bucky — in her early fifties, with striking dark hair that fell in waves around her shoulders, and a warm smile that immediately put you at ease.

"Ah, Bucky!" she exclaimed, stepping forward to greet him with a hug. "And you must be the lovely [Name]" Her voice was warm, her eyes twinkling with genuine interest as she enveloped you in a tight, welcoming hug. You couldn’t help but feel a little bit of the tension in your shoulders release as she wrapped her arms around you. "We’re so happy you’re here."

"Mom, this is [Name]," Bucky said, his voice softer than usual as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. "[Name], this is my mom, Winnifred. You can call her Winnie"

You smiled nervously at her, feeling a little out of place as you looked up at Bucky.

"It’s so nice to finally meet you," you managed, your voice shaking slightly.

Bucky’s mom grinned. "I’ve heard so much about you from Bucky. We’ve been dying to meet you."

Before you could say another word, a man’s voice interrupted. A man who looked like he had stepped out of another era entirely.

"Is this her, then?" The voice was low, gruff, and filled with disapproval.

You turned to see an older man standing at the top of the staircase. His face was stern, with sharp features and gray hair that had been meticulously combed. His eyes were narrow, assessing you as if you were some kind of specimen he was about to examine.

This was Bucky’s grandfather, you realized with a jolt.

"Grandpa, this is [Name]," Bucky said, his tone polite but strained. You noticed the subtle way Bucky's shoulders tensed when his grandfather appeared. "[Name], this is my grandfather, Issac Barnes."

The old man stared at you for a long moment, his gaze scrutinizing. There was no warmth in his eyes, just a cold, appraising look that made your insides twist.

"You’re the woman he’s dating?" Grandpa Barnes asked, his voice skeptical. There was no warmth in his greeting, no smile. "I must admit, I expected someone... different."

"Grandpa," Bucky warned, but his voice was quieter now, almost apologetic.

You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks. You weren’t sure if you should be offended or just brush it off, but either way, it stung.

"Yes, sir," you said, trying to keep your voice steady. "I’m... I’m honored to meet you."

The silence stretched between you as Bucky’s grandfather sized you up. Finally, he grunted and turned to walk away, muttering under his breath about something you couldn’t quite hear. It wasn’t the warm welcome you’d hoped for, but it wasn’t entirely unexpected either.

"Ignore him," Bucky whispered as he led you into the house. "He’s always like that."

You nodded, unsure what else to say. You followed Bucky inside, where his mom and sister were waiting.

Dinner was a mix of awkward silences and strained conversation, mostly focused on polite pleasantries that didn’t go much deeper than surface level. Bucky’s sister, Rebecca, was kind and chatty, asking you all about your work and your interests, making the conversation easier to navigate. She was easy to talk to, which made the tension in the air a little more bearable.

But it was Grandpa Barnes who dominated the table. He didn’t make any effort to disguise his disapproval of you. Every word you spoke, every attempt at humor, was met with a cold stare. You tried to hold your ground, to keep your smile in place, but it was hard to keep up with the constant criticism.

"Well, [Name]," Grandpa Barnes said at one point, his fork scraping against his plate as he looked at you, "I’m curious. What makes you think you’re good enough for my grandson?"

You froze, the question hitting you like a punch to the stomach. You’d been holding it together up until this point, but now?

You weren’t sure how to respond. Bucky, however, was having none of it.

"Grandpa," he said firmly, his voice suddenly hard, "that’s enough."

Everyone at the table fell silent. The tension in the room was palpable, thick enough to suffocate.

Bucky’s face was set in a hard line, and you could see the muscles in his jaw clenching. His grandfather raised an eyebrow, but before he could speak, Bucky continued.

"You don’t get to talk to her like that. She’s a smart, hardworking woman, and she deserves respect. I’m not going to let you treat her like that."

Your heart skipped a beat. For the first time, you saw Bucky take a stand for you. It wasn’t like him to show any emotion, especially not this kind of protectiveness.

Grandpa Barnes looked taken aback, his eyes narrowing, but Bucky wasn’t backing down.

"We’re leaving," Bucky said firmly, standing up from the table and holding his hand out to you.

You blinked, stunned, but took his hand, following him out of the room. As you walked toward the door, you heard Bucky’s mom call after you.

"Bucky," she said softly, "She's a good woman. Dont lose her."

You didn’t turn around, but you could feel the warmth of her words settle around you.

As you both drove away from the Barnes estate, the tension that had filled the air during dinner seemed to linger between you. The silence was thick and heavy, wrapping around the both of you like a thick blanket you couldn’t shake off. The hum of the car engine was the only sound breaking the quiet, but even that felt too loud.

Bucky’s grip on the steering wheel tightened as he maneuvered the car down the winding roads, his jaw set and his eyes focused ahead. He wasn’t angry, but the edge in his posture told you something was weighing on his mind. It was the first time you’d seen him like this — unsettled, unsure of what to say or how to make the atmosphere less suffocating.

You were still processing everything that had happened in the house. His grandfather’s cold reception, the judgment, and the overwhelming pressure of trying to fit in with his family. You could feel your pulse still racing from the tension at the dinner table, and the thought of it made you bite your lip.

But then, just as you were about to say something, Bucky’s voice broke the silence, sounding softer than usual.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured.

The words caught you off guard.

“Excuse me?” You turned to him, eyes wide in surprise. You hadn’t expected an apology from him — especially not from the man who had been so cold and distant toward you in the beginning. Who had treated you like a tool to use for his contract, never really giving you any warmth or kindness beyond the bare minimum.

“I didn’t— I didn’t expect the dinner to go like that,” he said, his voice a little hesitant. His eyes flickered to you for a split second, before he turned his gaze back to the road. “Grandpa… he can be a hard one. He’s not easy to impress.”

You nodded slowly, unsure of how to respond. The Bucky you had met when this whole arrangement had begun felt like a completely different person than the one sitting beside you now. The arrogant CEO who had barely tolerated your presence, who had dismissed your every suggestion with a cold shoulder — this version of Bucky, who was genuinely apologizing for his family’s behavior, was unfamiliar. And, frankly, it caught you off guard.

“I didn’t expect… any of that,” you said quietly, still feeling a little shaken. “I didn’t expect him to be so…”

“Rude?” Bucky finished for you, his voice carrying a faint, humorless chuckle. “Yeah, he can be a bit much. But I should’ve warned you properly. I should’ve told you what you were walking into.”

There was a sincerity in his tone that you hadn’t heard before, something that almost made you forget about the grand house and the coldness of his grandfather. It was a side of him you hadn’t seen — one that wasn’t hidden behind the veil of arrogance and stern masks.

“Thank you for standing up for me,” you said, your voice soft but genuine. You’d meant to say it earlier, but the moment had never felt right. Now, in the quiet of the car, it seemed like the only thing that mattered.

Bucky’s eyes flickered toward you again, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes. His expression softened, and for a brief moment, it was like the walls between you had fallen away, even just a little.

“Of course,” he replied, his voice quiet, but firm. “You didn’t deserve any of that… treatment from him.”

The words hung in the air between you, and for a heartbeat, everything felt different. The Bucky Barnes you knew — the stoic, business-minded, calculating CEO — was melting away, piece by piece, until all that was left was a man who genuinely cared.

He pulled the car up to a red light and slowed to a stop, the silence between you two now almost comfortable. You couldn’t help but study him, noticing the slight way his shoulders had relaxed, the soft way he was looking at the road ahead. It was subtle, but you could tell: he was no longer the cold, unapproachable boss. In this moment, he was just Bucky. And that made the car ride feel far less suffocating.

"Doll..." Bucky’s voice was quieter now, almost hesitant. “I know I haven’t been… easy. On you. Or, well, anyone. I didn’t mean to make you feel like you didn’t belong.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you couldn’t help but glance over at him, trying to gauge the sincerity in his words. The man who had been so abrasive to you, so distant, was now opening up in a way that made you feel like you were seeing him for the first time. You hadn’t expected this.

“I’m not used to letting people in, you know?" he continued, his eyes briefly flickering to yours before quickly looking back at the road. "And I definitely didn’t expect... all of this.” He motioned vaguely between the two of you with a slight gesture, indicating the situation, the fake dating contract, the mess with his family — everything. “But I’m trying. I guess it’s just… new for me. I’m sorry if I’ve made it harder than it should be.”

You couldn’t help but be struck by the honesty in his words. You had expected him to be all business — to stick to the deal and keep things impersonal. But now, with the weight of everything that had just happened between you two, you saw a side of Bucky that you hadn’t anticipated. He was apologizing, not just for his grandfather’s rude behavior, but for his own actions.

“You don’t have to apologize, Mr.Barnes,” you said, your voice soft but firm. “I get it. We’re both just figuring this out, right?”

He nodded slowly, the tension between you two easing, even if just a little. “Yeah,” he said with a small smile, his gaze finally meeting yours. “Guess we are.”

The rest of the drive passed in relative silence, but the air was no longer heavy. It felt lighter somehow, as if a shift had happened, something small but significant that made you both realize that the world you were navigating was bigger than just the contract between you. And, somewhere in the background, feelings you had both tried to suppress were beginning to stir. But neither of you acknowledged them yet. You couldn’t. Not when things were still so uncertain.

When Bucky finally parked in front of your apartment building, he looked over at you. “You good?”

You nodded. “Yeah. I think so.”

“Good.” He offered you a smile, one that was softer, warmer than the smile you’d seen from him before. “I’ll text you tomorrow, yeah?”

You smiled back, a little more sure of yourself now, even if you weren’t entirely sure where this would go. “Yeah. Text me.”

As you stepped out of the car and watched Bucky drive away, a small, unexpected part of you didn’t want to let him go. But you pushed the feeling down, telling yourself you were just imagining things.

As you entered your apartment, you leaned against the door, breathing out a slow, steadying sigh.

What had just happened?

Taglist: @calwitch, @scott-loki-barnes, @baw1066, @awesompawsum, @bucky-baby-barnes, @marianastudiesart, @pattiemac1, @maryevm, @borkybawnes, @mcira, @otterlycanadian, @mrsnikstan, @sebastians-love, @homiesexual-or-homosexual, @winchestert101

#⁺‧˚⋆Business proposal⋆ ˚‧⁺#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #james buchanan barnes #ceo!bucky barnes #ceo au #workplace romance #ceo!bucky barnes × worker!reader #bucky barnes #marvel fanfiction #sebastian stan x reader

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staryuee · 3 months ago

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hi ! ru still taking reqs? if so i hv one for u:

diluc, ei, ganyu, itto, venti and xiao's reactions when u tell them ur from another world?

kinda like traveler lowkey - since traveler did introduce u to [char]. so what happens when they clear out the fog of your origins? (lets also make u extremely overpowered 👍)

my apologies for the abundance of characters i want u to write for :( - i may or may not think out of all the people who's works i've read ur the best? aoqooqoao don't mind that but tysm if u take my req! ily :D

S/O THAT’S FROM ANOTHER WORLD

꒰warnings꒱ honkai star rail references, not proofread oopsie

⠀꒲ ` characters . . . diluc, venti, zhongli, ganyu, xiao, ei, itto

⠀꒲ ` notes . . . i’m currently on a hsr grind so i just decided to steal both that universe and technically the elements of honkai impact to feed into my delusions ♡

traversing the planets that sprinkle the gorgeous celestial galaxy above has led you to a sticky situation. for the past several months you’ve been wandering around the land known as ‘teyvat’ with the kind traveler aiding you as someone who understands your predicament all too well.

it wouldn’t have been so weird for you as a trailblazer - after all, a nameless’s job is to explore the cosmos and the planets that dot the universe - but what made it undoubtedly difficult was the fact you were: A. alone. B. in a whole different branch of the imaginary tree. C. completely attached to a person from this precarious world.

see, over the course of your adventure you’ve met so many different types of people; some the equivalent of scraping nails on a chalkboard and some…or should i say someone, who’s been at your loving side ever since their heart skipped a beat for you.

R. DILUC — 迪卢克

ʚ diluc doesn’t like to assume things unless it’s built on a foundation of logic and evidence. so this was an absolute surprise to him.

ʚ your sweet and silly habits, the little mumbles you kept to yourself, your reliance on him to converse with others…he thought those were just endearing quirks of yours! not because you were from a whole other world!!

ʚ listen, he’s not mad, per se. you’re the love of his life (as absolutely corny as that sounds), but he doesn’t appreciate having something like this be brought up so randomly and not with precaution. the traveler was one thing, this was another. he loved you. he needs to sit down for a moment…

ʚ in the grand scheme of things, this revelation made a lot of sense. there were moments you mentioned little tidbits about your personal life where it had him scratching his head. you were freely allowed to have secrets and friends outside of mondstadt…but it came to a point where he was absolutely sure you were making things up.

ʚ what do you mean you reminded him of a man called argenti? he didn’t particularly enjoy getting compared to another man of all things…but you seemed pretty happy with yourself so he’ll let it slide. you’re missing someone named…kiana? well, he’s not exactly sure who that is, but he’d be happy to escort you to meet them?

ʚ it was sweet, really—how much he tried to appease your little waves of nostalgia and nights of sorrow with nonchalant compliance while he had no knowledge of your situation. but, now that he has…everything has become so much more convoluted.

ʚ he’s already a man of very few words, preferring actions to prove his love than mere bluffs—but how was he meant to show you anything when all you ever want is something out of his reach?

ʚ diluc has never been in a position where he couldn’t give someone he loved something they desired. you manage to surprise him even now.

ʚ aside from the guilt he feels about not being able to give you more than a hug and a kiss with a muttered “it’ll be okay, sweetheart”, he’s utterly proud and in awe of you.

ʚ you were truly something else in battle. fierce, swift, barely visible through smoke and gashes of elements bombarding together like an alchemy lesson gone wrong—he couldn’t have asked for a better partner.

ʚ if diluc was one for relaxing in fairytale bliss, he wouldn’t hesitate to lean back as you slaughtered with delicate ease with a dreamy grin on his face.

VENTI — 温迪

ʚ venti knows every song from the past, present and the future. the future being the most helpful for situations like this.

ʚ but he certainly didn’t expect for you to just say it out right! i mean, he had suspicions (you called him wendy upon your first meeting, he immediately knew there was something curious about you…), but you’ve never really mentioned it before.

ʚ his initial reaction was a mix of unbridled curiosity and utter joy. he has SO many questions which he will let you use as payment instead of mora for every ballad and sonnet he sings for you. but also… you trusted him with this information? fr? (>﹏<)

ʚ he is SO down for you to chat shit about people who pissed you off in your world. will he understand any of the factions or wars involved? nope! but he’s always willing to listen to his windblume when they’re caressing and squshjng at his cheeks as a form of venting relief.

ʚ not only are you a super intriguing storyteller, one that does a heck of a good job to give him the proper material for future ballads, you’re so powerful and talented it makes him shiver! (*≧ω≦)

ʚ he already loved watching your skilful fingers wrap around a weapon…but watching your entire demeanour shift and posture straighten after you’ve left a residue of dust from a hoard of enemies? ooh you’ve got him wrapped around your finger.

ʚ there is a certain bittersweetness to your predicament however… being the god of the freedom of all things means a lot of things, but one thing in particular that makes his heart ache: eventually, he’ll have to let you go.

ʚ and not in a dramatic romeo and juliet way, or an anti-commitment way—in the way that this isn’t your home. and venti would never deprive you of the chance to see your own peers and family.

ʚ what’s a little distance to a god who’s already been alone for most his life anyway?

ZHONGLI — 钟离

ʚ “i know.” were the only words that left his lips as soon as you reveal your identity. he never delves deeper into how he knew; or perhaps he didn’t and is just lying to save face…either way, he remains silent with a complaisant smile as he once again picks up his teacup.

ʚ it’s awfully unsettling how this proclamation is met with such nonchalance, but to be fair, he’s a god, and a dragon at that—he’s seen and been the fault of countless of empires falling and rising, including the one you’re standing in today with qingxin’s in your hair, he’s not fazed, but he is certainly intrigued.

ʚ won’t hesitate to bombard you with questions, slowly of course, he doesn’t wish to overwhelm you.

ʚ it’s not every day he gets to speak with someone who’s from a world completely unlike his own who’s actually willing to share their tales and past. of course the traveler was there to chat about their own experiences, but it always felt like they were leaving portions of their story covered.

ʚ it’s not every day he gets to speak with someone who’s from a world completely unlike his own who’s actually willing to share their tales and past. of course, the traveler was there to chat about their own experiences, but it always felt like they were leaving portions of their story covered.

ʚ he’s suddenly a lot more in tune with your habits and quirks, he enjoys the whole process of guessing what things you’ve adapted to and learn from teyvat and the things you’ve clearly been conditioned into by your past.

ʚ silly things like calling accidentally calling the archons “herrscher”, face suddenly going limp with sorrow at the mention of murata, he also does think it’s a little funny you mimic his osmanthus wine line with one of your own…something to do with life being ephemeral and being filled with worldly strife.

ʚ aside from your unique quirks, another obvious thing that caught his eye was your power. he’s seen many a mortal in his life—some of which had left puffed scarring in his psyche from their sheer strength and will.

ʚ but you? you were something else. he couldn’t even tell if it was just because he loved you so much that anything you did amazed him, or because it was simply endearing to see his partner so nonchalantly powerful.

ʚ he may or may not pull the grandpa card occasionally to watch you in action. Can he technically match you in power? possibly. but you should forgive the old dragon, he merely enjoys watching you get sweaty as he sips tea, is that so wrong?

GANYU — 甘雨

ʚ ganyu is barely awake when she comes home to you, so when you suddenly revealed such news, it abruptly awoke her. yes, she nearly lost a horn in the process—please don’t mention the bump on her forehead.

ʚ despite ganyu being extremely intelligent and quietly observant like an white barn owl with hooded eyes, this was the last thing she expected: was teyvat some sort of resort for outlanders strewn off their course? or did the gods specifically send you down here so you can play with her heart?

ʚ the revelation doesn’t change much apart from your late night pillow talks. suddenly, even the sleepy goat preferred counting the moles and freckles on your skin than imaginary sheep. please do enlighten her about your world!! she will soak up any information and perhaps help you relive some memories with some diy—she’s sure she can remake the food from the xianzhou luofu with some mismatched ingredients!

ʚ one thing that intrigued her immediately about your travels was the place called penacony; you seriously visited a world where dreams were a reality? where you can simply let go of the troubles of life and engage in mindless fun? that was far too out of her realm of imagination, but she was certainly replaying the image you placed in her mind during her late hours at work.

ʚ however…the rest of the story about the dreamy land solidified in her mind that maybe those few hours with ink are worth more than indulging in delusions…

ʚ your martial art skills and general technique with your desired weapon had also piqued her interest, but she had never really put too much emphasis on it or thought to express her curiosity. after all, it’s not like she gets out of liyue much—perhaps this was merely a style from one of the other nations?

ʚ of course, with the present context, she was now even more intrigued! you have to teach her some of those cool choreography moves! you practically use the entire battlefield like a dance floor, sliding around to avoid enemy attacks with such poise and grace you’d think you were merely doing ballet. she’s never been so motivated for something so seemingly trivial to you.

ʚ there’s certainly a hint of worry with your whereabouts. after all, doesn’t this mean you’ll eventually have to make it back home? if so, would you be potentially willing to return to her if your heartbeats ever sync again?

XIAO — 魈

ʚ that explains a lot of the mumbles you told him not to worry about where in which you compared him to people he’s never heard of in teyvat - i mean he barely remembers the blurry faces of people he’s encountered but even so.

ʚ i mean who in the world was blade?? like the weapon? if so, that’s a rather cruel comparison for a man used as a killing slave for most his life.

ʚ he did think it was weird that despite your long stay in teyvat, you hadn’t managed to properly integrate yourself into their cultures - though he wasn’t really one to judge you for that, he was born to protect liyue and he still hasn’t got a clue how to socialise, so really? he understood you all too well.

ʚ soon as you admitted to him your story, it’s like all the lanterns in his head suddenly flutter with light. ah, so you’re not just an outcast weirdo—you’re quite literally from a different planet.

ʚ xiao isn’t one to be super intrigued about other people, his life and duty is specifically intended for the protection of liyue and its people. he has no time to wonder about what’s beyond that.

ʚ but…since it’s you, he’ll try. during those alone nights at the inn, him wrapped up in your arms like an injured kitten as you brush away the dark streaks of hair clinging to his bloodied forehead—he’ll ask.

ʚ did you have any friends? any family? did they love you? what sort of things did you experience? …do you miss them?

ʚ he rarely wants the answer to the last one, he shuts it out almost entirely. he can’t bear the thought of you potentially yearning for somewhere, or even someone, that wasn’t him. it was petty and selfish—but for the first time in his sacrificial life, he allowed it.

ʚ as for your power…he’s not one to be impressed by something he was literally designed for, but it was another thing to watch you work so diligently. it was…admirable.

ʚ there’s been times where you’ve surprised him, and unintentionally hurt his ego. he’s supposed to be YOUR protector, he wants to be. because if he isn’t, what else can he be? you can’t just swoop in and snatch him by the waist while he’s in the middle of training because you think he’s in trouble!

RAIDEN EI — 影

ʚ she truly believes she misheard you at first.

ʚ you’re from where? huh? speak up, please before the stoic shogun breaks down.

ʚ you can’t be from somewhere unreachable…you were hers. and now you’re telling her you belong to a whole other world?

ʚ it’s a poignant moment. on one hand, she’s deeply honoured that you trusted her to admit something so important to you, but truly…the idea you were just barely hers made her irrationally upset.

ʚ once she gets over the sulking, ei finds a little peace with you as you retell some stories of your own life. it’s a little healing almost, knowing you handled yourself so fiercely without her need of protection.

ʚ another raiden shogun? well you better pray you hadn’t dated because otherwise…she’s not sure she can keep that purple electricity of hers in check enough to not leave a branch-like streak across your face (she wouldn’t dare no matter how tempting the idea of branding you as hers the thought may be).

ʚ yae sakura and miko though? now that was certainly interesting. at least she finally had a conversation starter with the kitsune that strayed from the typical teasing.

ʚ you must know that she will absolutely be using this information against you, in the most lighthearted manner of course.

ʚ no it’s actually very normal in the inazuman custom for a shogun to eat a handful of sweets before dinner, you simply haven’t heard of it! yup she also must be the little spoon at night no matter how much smaller or bigger you are from her—it’s a status thing, so come on, get to it.

A. ITTO — 荒泷一斗

ʚ OH SHIT??

ʚ unexpected, bewildered and absolutely enamoured.

ʚ not only did he manage to bag an absolute gorgeous partner, one that could kick ass like it was second nature, but also one that was from some super cool other world?! oh babe you shouldn’t have said anything, he will absolutely chew your ear off with this.

ʚ nonstop talking and questioning— did you have things like this in your world?? when reference to the most common items. dig you also have rain? did you wake up before dawn or was it always night in your realm? do you have family? what were they like? friends? gasp LOVERS?

ʚ ooh he suddenly couldn’t take it. he knows you’re the most beautiful, handsomest, prettiest person alive—but just the thought of someone else—someone who he couldn’t fight!!—thinking the same thing before he ever did made his stomach feel all funny.

ʚ were there monsters and freaks in your world too? and did you love them as much as you hopefully loved him?

ʚ he knows it’s a little unfair to expect you to only have had eyes for him, but for the sake of his ego…it’s much better to keep past romantic endeavours to yourself. he’s currently more than content that the great arataki itto is your first TEYVAT! boyfriend. no other dude from some shammy planet could change that significant status.

#aaahhh i’m so swamped with exams. i need reprieve…#pls don’t take psychology. or art. or english lit…╭(╯3╰)╮#genshin x reader #gi x reader #genshin x gnreader #genshin x you #diluc x reader #venti x reader #zhongli x reader #ganyu x reader #xiao x reader #ei x reader #raiden shogun x reader #raiden x reader #itto x reader #genshin x gn!reader

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ghostlynightpanda · 2 months ago

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hello!!! this is gonna seem familiar but can u do one where reader only listens to a certain aib character? (so basically the reader having a friend that only listens to them except the reader only listens to an aib character)

AIB Characters react to Reader only listening to them

content/warnings: Ann, Kuina, Mira, Aguni, Niragi, Last Boss, Chishiya, canon typical blood and violence, 4.132 words

Ann

You met her in a game that should have killed you.

It was a Clubs game, some twisted puzzle in a half-flooded hotel. The kind of game where hesitation meant drowning, where allies turned on each other before the second round. You were new then—still trying to believe that this world was just some nightmare you could wake up from.

You misstepped. Trusted the wrong person. Got cornered on a submerged stairwell, the water rising past your chest. Your so-called teammates had already fled.

You would’ve died.

But then she appeared—calm, focused, precise.

Ann.

She didn’t say much. Just extended her hand, eyes steady. No urgency in her expression, but something solid behind it. You took her hand without thinking, and she pulled you free like it was nothing.

Afterward, she led you to the Beach. Said they could use more players who weren’t total liabilities. You knew you hadn’t impressed her with your skills. You figured she saw something else. Maybe potential. Maybe stubbornness.

You didn’t know it then, but something shifted in you that day.

From then on, it was simple.

You followed her.

Not like a lapdog, not mindlessly. But with a certainty you hadn’t felt in your whole time here.

Other people barked orders—especially once you were inside the Beach hierarchy. Aguni. Niragi. Hatter. They all talked like their words were law.

But their voices never reached you. Not really.

Only hers did.

When Ann said “Watch the perimeter,” you moved. When she said “Don’t trust this one,” you kept your distance. When she looked at you and simply nodded, you knew what she needed.

It wasn't about obedience—it was about belief.

Niragi noticed. At first, it amused him. He’d test you in little ways. Bark contradictory commands just to watch you ignore them.

“Hey. I said you’re covering the north wing, not hanging around Ann’s shadow.”

You didn’t reply.

“Getting off on being her pet or something?”

Still nothing.

It escalated. He didn’t like being disregarded. Not here, where power came from dominance and fear.

One day, after a mission went sideways, he cornered you behind the Beach’s storage wing, gun low at his side, finger on the trigger.

“You deaf, or just stupid?” he sneered. “I give you an order, and you look through me like I’m a ghost. One more time, and I’ll put a hole through your head, you get me?”

You didn’t flinch. You didn’t speak.

Because she hadn’t told you to. And you would’ve stood there, silent and still, even if he pulled the trigger. But he didn’t.

Because her voice cut through the tension like a blade. “Put the gun down, Niragi.”

She walked toward you with that cool steadiness that made people shut up without being told.

Niragi’s lip curled, but he lowered the weapon. “Tch. Control your little soldier, Ann.”

She stepped between you and him. “They don’t belong to me. But they don’t belong to you either.”

He left, but not without a glare. One that promised the issue wasn’t over.

That night, in the quiet between shifts, you were sitting with her on the Beach rooftop. The firelight from inside flickered through the windows below, distant voices blending into a low hum. Up here, it was quieter. Safer.

She didn’t look at you when she asked. “Why do you only listen to me?”

You thought about lying. Playing it off. Saying it was just tactical, that she was competent and you were just smart enough to know it.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you said, “Because you saved my life before I even proved I was worth the trouble.”

She was still.

You kept going. “You never lied to me. You never played games. Everyone else down there… they want control, power, loyalty they haven’t earned.”

You looked over at her then, and she met your gaze—quiet, unreadable, as always.

“But you… you don’t ask for anything. You just do what’s right. I trust that. I trust you.”

Something flickered in her expression. Almost surprise. Almost softness.

She nodded once, slowly, like she was filing the words away somewhere private.

Then she said, quietly, “Thank you.”

And for a second, her shoulder brushed against yours. Just enough to notice. Just enough to know it wasn’t an accident.

It was small. But in a world where trust was rare, where people died for less than a misstep—

That moment was everything.

Kuina

In Borderland, alliances didn’t mean much.

They could be traded, broken, killed off in the next game. But your alliance with Kuina was different. It wasn’t declared. It wasn’t negotiated. It simply was.

You met her during a difficult Hearts game—brutal and built to tear people apart. But she didn’t flinch when others turned on each other. She didn’t ask for loyalty. She earned it.

She watched your back. And you watched hers. It became unspoken.

Wherever she was, you were close behind. And wherever you stood, she knew you’d never let anyone get to her.

You didn’t follow orders. Not unless they came from her.

Chishiya noticed that early.

The three of you ended up working together more often than not. He was sharp, cold, unreadable. Kuina trusted him, and because of that, you tolerated him.

He talked to you sometimes, as if testing the boundaries.

“You should take that route instead,” he said once during a game—calculated voice, that smug smirk in place. “It’s a higher probability of survival.”

You met his gaze, then glanced at Kuina. She was still scanning the field, weighing options.

You didn’t move.

Chishiya raised a brow. “Not listening, huh?”

“I’m not yours to command,” you said plainly.

Later, Kuina nudged your shoulder with a grin. “You really don’t take orders from anyone but me?”

You smiled back. “Only one voice I follow.”

She rolled her eyes, but her smile didn’t fade.

The games were getting harder. Face cards were soon to come. Fewer friends, more traps. Without the Beach, you were constantly moving, rarely resting. But you and Kuina stayed side by side. She didn’t need to ask. She knew you’d be there.

Chishiya remained close, his connection to Kuina pulling him into your circle. You shared meals, played cards, cracked dry jokes under broken moonlight, waiting for the next stage to start. You didn’t dislike him. He was smart. Useful. He didn’t waste words.

But when he said “Move up the west wing” during the King of Clubs game, you didn’t even blink.

Kuina called out moments later, “Change of plan—take the right side.”

You were already in motion before she finished the sentence.

Chishiya sighed dramatically behind you. “Incredible. You really are selectively obedient.”

You grinned. “You’re lucky I even talk to you.”

You and Kuina had a rhythm. You didn’t need constant communication. A look, a nod, a shared breath in tense moments—that was enough.

She never abused your loyalty. That was part of why you gave it so freely.

One night, after a narrow escape from the Jack of Spades game, you were sitting near a cracked window in an abandoned building. She was patching up a cut on her leg, you were cleaning your weapon. The city buzzed low in the distance, broken and half-alive.

“You ever wonder why you only listen to me?” she asked, eyes flicking up to meet yours.

You paused. “Not really.”

“No?”

You leaned back, giving her a rare bit of honesty. “Because you’ve never led me wrong. You think fast, fight smart, and don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

She snorted softly. “Sounds like admiration.”

You met her gaze, steady. “It is.”

She looked away for a second, and when she turned back, her smile was smaller. Quieter. “You know, most people here only look out for themselves.”

“I’m not most people,” you said.

“No,” she agreed, softer this time. “You’re not.”

The silence after was comfortable. Weighted with something unspoken, but not unwelcome.

She didn’t thank you. She didn’t need to.

Because the next time she said, “Watch my back,” you were already there.

Mira

She fascinated you the moment you saw her.

Mira Kano—smiling like the world was a game she already won. Wearing black like it meant something, eyes glinting with quiet madness beneath layers of charm. Most people didn’t know what to make of her. Some were drawn in, others kept their distance.

You watched from the sidelines.

And she noticed you.

“Why so quiet?” she asked one evening at the Beach, swirling her wine in that slow, hypnotic way. “Everyone here is partying, but you—you watch.”

“I’m not interested in something like that,” you said.

She laughed—light and hollow at the same time. “Then what are you interested in?”

You met her gaze without fear. “Truth.”

That caught her attention.

She invited you to her side after that.

Not with grand gestures. Just slow, soft steps. Shared conversations under moonlight, whispered observations about the people around you, her voice always laced with mystery. She never asked for your loyalty outright. But she didn’t need to.

You gave it willingly.

And the strange part was—you knew better. You knew she could be dangerous. That beneath the smile and the softness lived something sharp and unrelenting. But you didn’t care.

You trusted her. Not because she was kind. But because she was honest—in her own, twisted way.

Mira didn’t pretend to be good. She only promised to be herself. In a world of liars, that was rare enough.

People warned you.

Chishiya looked at you once and said, “You realize there’s more to her than you can see, right?”

You didn’t blink. “That’s okay.”

Even Kuina gave you a subtle warning. “Just be careful. Mira plays a long game. She can twist people.”

“I’m not being twisted,” you replied. But even you weren’t sure if that was true.

You didn’t follow anyone’s orders—except hers.

Not Kuina’s, not Chishiya’s, not the ones barked out by remnants of the Beach council as it fractured.

But if Mira so much as tilted her head and said, “Would you fetch something for me?”—you were already moving.

She never needed to raise her voice. Never demanded. She simply asked—and you obeyed.

Not because you were afraid. But because some part of you wanted to.

One day, she tested it.

“You won’t listen to anyone else, will you?” she asked, voice a lullaby wrapped in curiosity. “Not even your friends?”

“No.”

Her eyes sparkled, pleased.

“So if I asked you to betray them… would you?”

You didn’t answer right away. The silence stretched like a blade between you.

She stepped closer, so close you could hear the shift in her breath. “I wouldn’t ask something so cruel,” she whispered, smile delicate. “Not unless I was sure you loved me more than them.”

You exhaled. “Then it’s a good thing I don’t love anyone.”

Her smile widened. “Except me?”

Another silence. A longer one. “I trust you,” you said finally. “Even if I shouldn't.”

That was all she needed.

Another night, she found you sitting alone on the roof—back resting against the cold concrete, eyes tracking the stars shining bright above you.

She sat beside you without asking. “Do you have an idea what the next game could be? Only the Ten of Hearts is missing,” she asked.

“I don’t know. We’ll see.”

“Do you think I’ll betray you? Lie to you?”

“I know you will.”

She looked over at you, genuinely curious. “And you’ll still listen to me?”

“…Yes.”

A soft laugh escaped her lips. Not mocking—moved. “You really are a strange one.”

“You’re the only voice that matters to me,” you said. And it was the truth.

Even if it destroyed you.

Aguni

The Beach ran on illusion.

Hatter gave the speeches, smiled like he was building a kingdom. The executives played politics, shifting loyalties like poker hands. Everyone wanted power, or at least protection. You watched it all with quiet detachment, knowing the paradise was one wrong move from falling apart.

But Aguni—he didn’t pretend.

He didn’t waste words or sell dreams. He stood in the background, a shadow with a rifle, letting others wear the crown while he bore the weight of its consequences.

You noticed that.

The first time you saw him make a call—quick, brutal, and clean—you knew he was the one who truly kept the Beach standing.

It was during a raid. A Five of Spades game brought you outside the Beach walls. Someone panicked. A group tried to run, abandoning others mid-strategy.

One of the runners was your partner for that game.

Aguni didn’t hesitate. He stopped the deserters before they could cost more lives. Made the call no one else was willing to. When it was over, no one said thank you. They looked at him like a monster.

But you saw it differently.

That night, you found him sitting alone, cleaning his weapon in silence.

“You saved everyone,” you said.

He looked up, gaze steady but unreadable. “No. I made the call that had to be made.”

“Same thing,” you replied.

From that moment, you were his.

You didn’t say it out loud—not at first. You just started showing up where he was. Took assignments when he took them. Followed his lead in games without question. You didn’t care what Hatter said. The moment Aguni gave a command, you moved.

It didn’t take long for people to notice.

“You listening to the wrong executive,” one of them said, sneering after a strategy meeting where you flat-out ignored Hatter’s orders.

You didn’t bother responding.

If it didn’t come from Aguni, it didn’t matter. He didn’t ask for your loyalty. Didn’t need it.

But one day, after another close-call game, he finally said something.

“You don’t follow orders unless they come from me.”

You nodded. “Because you don’t make decisions for show.”

He held your gaze for a long moment. “That kind of trust can get you killed.”

“Maybe,” you said. “But if I go out, I’d rather it be following someone who does what needs to be done.”

He grunted quietly, something like respect in his expression.

After that, he let you closer.

When the Beach started breaking—Hatter unraveling, the hierarchy splintering—you stayed at Aguni’s side.

Even when people started whispering about coups, about power struggles.

They asked you who you were loyal to and you didn’t answer. But your presence at Aguni’s right side said enough.

One night, you were both standing at the balcony overlooking the pool. The place looked peaceful—almost like the lie it wanted to be. But his shoulders were tense, jaw clenched like he was already preparing for the weight of tomorrow.

“You think we’ll survive this place?” you asked.

“Some of us.”

“You?”

He didn’t answer right away. Then: “Only if I keep making the hard calls.”

You looked at him—scarred, weathered, steady.

“You’re the only one I’d follow into hell,” you said simply. And you meant it.

He looked over at you, the faintest trace of something softer beneath the hard lines of his face.

“I know.”

Niragi

Rules didn’t mean much in this world.

Not when the people giving them out were already bleeding inside. Not when fear and ambition drove every so-called leader to preach survival while clinging to their own illusions of power.

Hatter spoke like he was building a society. Ann acted like the voice of reason. Mira wore masks with a smile.

You didn’t care about any of them.

Just like he didn’t.

Niragi never pretended. He didn’t dress his madness in silk or civility. He burned through the world like a fire that no one could contain—unapologetic, violent, dangerous.

He didn’t follow orders. He took them from only one person—Aguni.

And you? You didn’t even do that.

You ignored everyone. Even Aguni.

Except him.

Only him.

People thought you were crazy.

“You’re wasting yourself,” Ann said once, sharp eyes trying to understand you. “Niragi’s unstable. He’s going to get you killed.”

Maybe.

But you still followed him into every game, every mission, every reckless firestorm he dragged himself into. And you did it without question.

He noticed, of course. Niragi wasn’t stupid, he was far from it. Just unpredictable.

“You don’t listen to anyone,” he said one day, licking blood off his fingers after a game gone ugly. “Not Hatter, not Ann, not even Aguni. But me?” He tilted his head at you, smirking. “You come running the second I lift a finger.”

You didn’t flinch. “Because you don’t pretend. You say what you want and you take it. You’re real.”

That answer lit him up. “Real, huh?” he echoed, like it was the first compliment he’d ever believed. “That’s one word for it.”

He started testing you after that.

Giving you commands just to see if you’d follow them.

“Stand over there.” You did.

“Don’t help them.” You didn’t.

“Pick that guy off before he runs.” You pulled the trigger.

No hesitation. No questions.

It wasn’t about fear. You weren’t afraid of Niragi.

You just… believed in him. Even if it didn’t make sense. Even if it was reckless. Even if the whole world said he was too far gone.

He was strong. He survived. He did what had to be done. In this place, that counted for more than anything.

He leaned into it. Started ordering you around more brazenly. Taking pride in it. When people questioned him, tried to overrule him, he just laughed.

“Don’t bother,” he said once, throwing an arm over your shoulders. “They only listen to me. Isn’t that right?”

You nodded.

He grinned like a devil with a crown. Like having your loyalty was his personal badge of power.

And maybe it was. But you didn’t mind.

You weren’t stupid. You knew Niragi was a maniac.

Unstable. Unrelenting. Cruel when he wanted to be. But he didn’t lie. He didn’t pretend to be anything but what he was.

That made him worth following.

In a world this rotten, honesty wrapped in violence was still honesty. And if that came with fire and blood?

So be it.

“You’re out of your mind, you know,” he said once, after a night soaked in red and smoke. His voice was low, almost thoughtful. “I could tell you to burn this place down, and you’d probably do it.”

You stared at him, steady. “You already know the answer.”

He stared back, lips twitching into a smirk. Then a laugh. “Damn right you would.” He stepped closer, eyes gleaming with twisted satisfaction.

“Good.”

Last Boss

Words lost their meaning in this world.

Everyone was talking—about plans, safety, trust, survival. The louder they were, the less they meant. Hatter sold dreams, Mira smiled through lies, and even Aguni had begun to bark commands to keep the order from unraveling.

But you… you stopped listening a long time ago.

Except for him.

Last Boss.

He didn’t shout. Didn’t scheme. He just was—a shadow in the room, watching while others played their roles. Most people feared him. Some called him a lunatic because of the way he moved, the way his silence hung like smoke around him.

But you saw something different.

You saw the calm.

While others cracked under pressure or chattered to cover their panic, Last Boss stood steady. He didn’t talk to assert control. He didn’t need to. When something was wrong, he knew. When it mattered, he acted.

And that was enough for you.

It started simple.

In the games, you stayed near him—not clinging, not needy. Just there. Moving when he moved. Waiting when he waited. People questioned it. They didn’t understand.

“You don’t even know if he’s going to protect you,” someone said once.

You shrugged. “He hasn’t let me die yet.”

And that was more than most could say.

You never needed him to speak.

It was his stillness you trusted—the weight of his presence, the way his eyes tracked everything like he already saw the outcome. He wasn’t loud, but he was present. Focused. Controlled.

That was what made you follow him blindly. Because in a world where everyone talks, the only truth left is in the ones who don’t.

And when he did speak—rarely, quietly, with purpose—you listened like it was law. Because if Last Boss opened his mouth to say something, it meant something.

One night at the Beach, when tension rippled through the halls like static, you were sitting near the edge of the rooftop, knees tucked up, eyes watching the world blur below. He approached silently, as he always did.

He didn’t say a word. Just stood near you, arms folded, eyes on the moon.

You didn’t look at him, didn’t need to.

After a long while, he finally spoke. “Don’t go with them tomorrow.”

Just five words. That was it.

You stood up without hesitation. “Okay.” No questions. No explanation needed.

If he said it, you listened.

Later, someone asked you why you always obeyed him of all people.

“He barely speaks,” they said, half-laughing. “You don’t even know what he’s thinking.”

You met their gaze and said, “Exactly.” That’s why you trusted him.

Because people who talk all the time—they spin stories, manipulate, lie.

But silence? That’s honest. If someone saves their voice, it’s because they only use it when it matters.

And his voice—when it came—was the only one that ever did.

Chishiya

You stopped pretending you cared about survival a long time ago.

This world—this twisted apocalyptic world—took too much from you. Stripped away everything that gave life meaning. Family. Friends. Future. All gone in the shuffle of suits and blood-soaked games.

Now? You didn’t play to win.

You just… moved. And you moved when he moved.

Chishiya.

He wasn’t kind. He didn’t make promises. He never offered hope.

But he saw things others didn’t. The tiniest cracks in people. The strategies beneath chaos. The patterns hiding in bloodshed.

He wasn’t a leader, not in the traditional sense—but if he told you to do something, it wasn’t a guess. It was a calculation. A precise move in a larger game.

And you followed it. Every time.

“You’re not seriously putting your life in his hands,” Ann had said once, trying to read your expression. “He wouldn’t hesitate to sacrifice anyone if it served his goal.”

You didn’t argue.

She wasn’t wrong.

Chishiya was selfish. Detached. A tactician who saw people as pieces—valuable when useful, disposable when not.

But you had nothing left to lose.

And in a world where everyone screamed about loyalty, survival, and friendship, at least he never lied about what he was. That made him more honest than most.

You weren’t blind. You knew your trust in him was reckless.

Sometimes, you looked at him and wondered if this was what cults felt like—mindless devotion, waiting for a signal.

But it wasn’t like that.

You didn’t follow Chishiya because he made you feel something. You followed him because he made sense.

And because if you had to die in this world, you'd rather do it on his terms—executing a strategy that meant something—than in another pointless game with people pretending to care.

“Why do you always follow me?” he asked one night, out of nowhere. His tone wasn’t mocking, just mildly curious.

You didn’t answer right away. The two of you were seated across from each other in a dark hallway of the Beach, the world oddly quiet for once.

You looked up at him. “Because you’ll always make the smartest call. Even if it kills me.”

His eyes held yours for a moment longer than usual. Then he looked away. “I wouldn’t expect anyone else to be okay with that.”

“I’m not like anyone else.”

He huffed something that might have been amusement. “Clearly.”

You didn’t know if your trust in him was mutual. You didn’t need it to be.

But sometimes, he’d pause before sending you into danger. Sometimes, he’d offer you a rare look—quiet, unreadable—as if weighing something more than just logic. As if your loyalty wasn’t just another move on the board.

Maybe he saw something in you.

Or maybe not.

But you saw something in him—beneath the cool smirk and smug intellect. A ghost of a person who once cared about more than winning.

And that was enough.

If your trust in him cost you your life? So be it.

Because you weren’t just placing your bets on Chishiya the strategist.

You were placing them on the man beneath the mask—the one who, despite everything, might still be capable of letting someone in.

Even just a little.

#alice in borderland #Ann x reader #Ann Rizuna x reader #Kuina x reader #Kuina Hikari x reader #Aguni x reader #aguni morizono x reader #niragi x reader #Niragi Suguru x reader #last boss x reader #takatora samura x reader #mira kano x reader #mira x reader #chishiya x reader #Chishiya Shuntaro x reader

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