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darlingdaisyfarm · 9 months ago

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👁️⃤ Bill x Ford x reader headcanons

minors don’t interact

༄ Bill calls you “IQ’s little distraction”

༄ Bill loves to tease Ford about his preferences. “Oh, so you like it when she does that, huh, Sixer? well, you always were into the weird stuff.”

Ford tries to ignore him, but you can tell Bill’s getting under his skin. Sometimes, when Ford’s especially worked up, he’ll respond back, gritting through his teeth, “Shut up, Bill, or I’ll—”

But Bill cuts him off with a laugh. “You’ll what, Sixer? id love to see you try.”

༄ Bill has absolutely zero sense of boundaries. Like, none. You’ll be trying to have a moment of peace with Ford, just laying your head on his chest, his hand in your hair and Bill will appear out of nowhere. “Wow, Sixer, you look real cozy. Hope you don’t mind if I join— oh wait, I don’t care what you mind!”

Because Bill lives to make Ford suffer.

༄ Bill is constantly whispering the dirtiest things into Ford’s ear, especially when you’re around. You could be standing in the kitchen, preparing breakfast for yourself and Ford, and Bill will float beside Ford, murmuring, “She looks good, doesn’t she, Sixer? Bet you can’t wait to—”

Ford immediately cuts him off, snapping, “Shut up.”

༄ Ford is always a mess when it comes to you. He’ll stumble over his words when he’s trying to say something sweet or get all flustered when you catch him staring at you. Bill loves to point it out too. “Oh, look at you, Sixer, so pathetic, just how I like ya.” Ford tries to brush it off, but you can see the faint blush on his cheeks every time.

༄ Ford tries to plan a romantic dinner at least once a month. Tries. Because Bill always crashes it. One time, he even possessed the waiter at the fancy restaurant you both went to. Ford didn’t notice until halfway through dessert when the waiter leaned over and said in Bill’s voice, “Enjoying the cake, Fordsy? hope you don’t choke on it!” Ford nearly did.

༄ Bill loves interrupting intimate moments. Anytime things start getting heated between you and Ford, Bill finds a way to make it weird. One time, Ford’s lips trailing down your neck to your collarbones, your hands gripping his shoulders, but with the corner of your eye, you saw Bill’s faint yellow glow in the room. Ford didn’t notice right away, continuing kissing and sucking on your skin, but the second you did, you pushed him back. “B-Bill’s watching.” you muttered awkwardly.

“What? Can’t a guy enjoy the view? You two are putting on quite the show!”

Ford practically growled, grabbing the nearest book off the nightstand and throwing it at Bill’s levitating form.

༄ When you and Ford are eating, this damn triangle just can't calm down.

Ford groans, immediately looking up. “Bill, I swear, if you—”

“Didn’t think you’d get away that easy, did ya, Sixer?”

The lights blink out and Bill’s yellow triangle form appears right above the table.

“Ooh, candles? How romantic! What’s the occasion? Your last meal before death?

༄ Bill constantly steals Ford’s stuff. Research notes, pens, even his glasses. You’ll come into the room to see Ford anxiously searching for something, only for Bill to pop up, floating lazily in the air with Ford’s glasses. “Looking for these, IQ?”

༄ Ford writes in his journals about you sometimes, sketching your face in the margins with messy notes like, “her smile is distracting”, “must focus on the dimensional rift”, but you catch him sometimes, staring at the page for way too long before slamming the book shut when you ask about it.

༄ Bill teases Ford relentlessly about his age. “You’re still alive, huh? Good for you, Six Fingers! Still got all your teeth?” Ford just glances at him like he's seriously considering whether to fight or not. In most cases, he doesn’t.

༄ Ford is not always good at showing affection, but sometimes you wake up with Ford’s arms wrapped tightly around you, his body curled into yours like he’s hiding you from the world, his face buried in your hair.

༄ Ford’s sitting at his desk, hunched over some kind of cryptic manuscript, muttering to himself. You’re lounging on the bed nearby, half-listening, when Bill suddenly materializes out of air, hovering right over Ford’s shoulder.

“You missed a line, Sixer! And that equation? hmm, totally wrong.”

Ford doesn’t even look up, just lets out a frustrated sigh. “Go away, Bill.”

“What? I’m trying to help! This is what you wanted, isn’t it? You need me, admi—“

Ford slams his pen down, spinning around to face Bill. “The only thing I need is for you to leave me alone.”

Bill’s eye narrows. “Can we talk, pretty please?”

Ford doesn’t respond, his glare doing all the talking for him. Just not again. And more than all, not when you’re around.

༄ It’s late and Ford’s already fallen asleep beside you, his arm rests across your waist. You’re awake though, staring at the ceiling, mind racing with thoughts about. . . You don’t want to name that. It’s quiet until—

“Awww, look at that old man. So cute when he sleeps, huh?”

You sigh, turning your head slightly. Bill’s floating in the air, glowing as he speaks. “Bet he couldn’t keep up with ya, could he? Poor guy’s probably gonna need a cane soon.”

You roll your eyes.

“Come on, baby, why do you need him? Leave this old man to me, I know exactly how to take care of him.”

Only if, in Bill's understanding, hitting a person's head against a wall can be called care.

but Bill keeps going. “y’know, you could be having a lot more fun if you ditched the nerd.”

༄ Ford tries to teach you about all the different dimensions he’s been to. He’ll pull out these ancient-looking charts, pointing at interdimensional pathways and explaining them in painstaking detail. You just nod and blink, but half the time, you’re just watching the way his hands move or the way his voice softens when he gets really excited about some fact or thing. Sometimes, you’ll lean in and kiss him just to make him pause, just to see that little flustered smile that creeps onto his face when he realizes he’s rambling again

༄ You know those quiet nights where it’s just you and Ford, snuggled up under the stars, everything peaceful for once? Bill hates that. He can’t stand the silence. He’ll show up, glowing bright as ever and start blasting some weird, otherworldly music from whatever dimension he’s been in. Ford’s patience is already thin and after the third or fourth time Bill crashes the mood, Ford practically yells at him to fuck off. You, on the other hand, can't stop laughing.

༄ Bill loves messing with Ford’s coffee in the morning. Because Stanford has his whole routine, wake up, brew a fresh pot, pour a cup, add just the right amount of sugar. But Bill ruins it. Every time. One morning, Ford took a sip and immediately spit it out, glaring at the cup. You didn’t even need to ask.

“Bill.”

“Hope you like your salt with a side of caffeine, Sixer!

༄ Bill can get really handsy when he’s in control of Ford’s body. It's a real entertainment for him, feeling Ford’s frustration as he takes liberties, running his hands over you in ways Ford would never dare. “Oh, come on, Sixer, relax. You’re so uptight.” Ford is fuming, but it’s not like he can stop it. Bill leans closer to you, whispering in Ford’s voice. “Bet you like this better, don’t ya, doll?”

༄ Ford tries to give you a normal day sometimes, without any interdimensional nonsense or Bill’s interruptions. It usually lasts about five minutes before Bill pops in with some sarcastic comment or weird fact about some dimension neither of you cares about. Ford grits his teeth, muttering something about wishing he could just get five minutes of peace. You’re just used to it by now.

༄ Ford pretends he isn’t jealous when Bill flirts with you, but you can tell by the way his hand tightens around yours when Bill materialises in the room. Ford says it’s nothing, but then he’s pulling you closer, glaring at Bill.

༄ Bill’s a creepy little bastard who likes to float inches away from your face, his single eye blinking too slowly. You tell him to fuck off. He does. For ten seconds. Then he’s back, upside down this time, asking why Ford hasn’t kissed you yet today. He hopes you two will break up?

༄ Ford’s hands are huge and you always feel tiny when he wraps them around your waist. Bill makes weird comments about Ford having six fingers and how "it could be useful for so many things, don’t you think?" Ford doesn’t know whether to laugh or cringe. That’s just awkward.

༄ Ford kisses you like he’s solving a problem, taking his time, all intense and focused, his lips mapping out every curve of your mouth like he’s studying it. Bill interrupts by floating in and asking, “Wow, are you gonna write a dissertation on that, Sixer?”

༄ Bill has absolutely tried to possess Ford while he’s with you. You’ve learned to spot the signs: Ford’s eyes glowing just a bit too much, his voice having that eerie echo. You have a spray bottle ready now. “NO, Bill. BAD DEMON.” It works. Sometimes.

༄ Bill once tried to show you visions of all possible realities, like, “Hey, wanna see how the universe ends?” You told him to go fuck himself. Now he keeps showing you weird alternate versions of Ford where he’s a pirate, a robot or a cowboy. Bill insists this is "important research."

༄ Sometimes when Ford will just be lying in bed, and Bill will pop in like it’s the most natural thing in the world, floating above him. “What’s the matter, Sixer? Trouble sleeping? I know a thing or two about nightmares!” Bill laughs, but Ford turns away, pulling the blanket over his head like that’s going to stop a literal demon. It never works. Bill stays, talking until Ford either gives up on sleeping entirely or throws a pillow through him in frustration.

༄ Ford always gets lost in his work and you have to drag him away from his research to eat, sleep, or, you know, be a human. Bill offers to "fix" this by “removing” Ford’s need for sleep. You kindly suggest Bill remove himself from existence instead.

༄ You found one of Ford’s journals full of sketches of Bill, with little notes about weaknesses and possible ways to destroy him. One page, with drops of blood on it, just had “FUCK YOU, CIPHER” written over and over. Ford insists it was an experiment.

༄ Ford gets insecure a lot, especially after everything that happened with Bill. He’ll pull away, like he’s afraid to get too close. You have to remind him that he’s not alone anymore, that he doesn’t have to carry everything on his shoulders. Bill, of course, loves to swoop in during those vulnerable moments, whispering how fun it was to watch Ford break.

༄ Bill absolutely reads Ford’s journal when he’s not looking. He’s stolen a few pages too. Once, he asked you if you wanted to see what Ford wrote about you.

༄ Ford, surprisingly, can be rough and dominant sometimes. His normally gentle side disappears when you get him riled up, and soon enough, he’s pinning you against a wall as he mutters in your mouth, “You’re mine, understand?”

Bill, ever the asshole, floats by with a sing-songy, “Ooh, Sixer’s got a dark side, huh? Fucking hot.”

༄ Bill, in all his chaotic glory, shows up at your door with a gift — a jar containing what looks like a preserved monster eyeball. He insists it’s a “conversation starter” and jokes about “keeping an eye on things.” You freak out, but Ford looks like he’s used to it.

༄ It’s not just Ford who gets jealous; Bill throws tantrums when he sees you and Ford getting too close. One time, he sulked in the corner, muttering about “human emotions” while eyeing you both, his form turning red.

༄ Sometimes you wake up to Bill floating above you in a dream, whispering, “interesting fact! did you know I could bend reality just to keep you awake all night?” there you wake up screaming, while Ford, half-asleep, grumbles about needing to “banish that triangle for good.”

༄ You know that Ford is obsessed with his research and you love to stay up late, sitting on the floor next to him, watching him scribble furiously in his journals. He looks so cute when he’s all focused and excited. But there’s always that moment when you catch him staring at you instead of the pages.

You smirk, “are you going to take notes on how beautiful I am?” Ford stutters, not knowing what to say, but you see a smile on his face.

༄ Ford’s hands grips your waist, holding you against him while his lips slide down your neck, showering kisses, making you gasp softly, your fingers in his hair. But just when things are about to get real, Bill pops in with a, “Geez, Sixer, are you gonna bore her to death with foreplay or what?”

༄ And of course, let's not forget about the usual, “Doll, you sure you’re satisfied with this? nerds aren’t exactly known for their stamina, if you know what I mean!”

Ford doesn't want you to know how Bill knows this.

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trashmoutth · 8 months ago

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You wanna keep arguing now?

Dean Winchester oneshot Summary: Reader and Charlie go on a hunt by themselves and it goes wrong. Now you're stuck in a motel with a pissed of Dean Winchester. Pairing: Dean x f!reader, implied Sam x f!reader (platonic) Warrning(s): NSFW, minors dni!, smut, angst, mentions of death, arguing, english is not my first language and I didn't write for awhile but my spn obsession is back and I felt the need.

„What the hell were you thinking?!“

He was furious with you, you knew that. But after two weeks of being cooped up in the bunker you were starting to go crazy. So, when Charlie called to ask for your help on a vampire case you did not think twice about it. You weren’t exactly a full-fledged hunter per se, but you’ve had some experience in the past couple of years. You’ve helped the boys fight demons, angels, even leviathans, so you believed you could handle yourself against some punk-ass vamps. Not to mention, Charlie was a friend, and you were bored out of your mind.

You left a note for Sam, took one of the cars from the bunker (well, borrowed) and drove off to meet with Charlie. What you did not expect was the case going downhill as quickly as it did. The vamps captured you, fed on you and were trying to decide weather to turn you or kill you, when he came barging in. He took the entire nest out in less than five minutes and set you free. Charlie broke her leg so he dropped her off in a hospital and was currently driving you back to the bunker.

You were grateful to him for saving you, of course, but you knew that he was fuming. He was driving for an hour without saying a word to you and you could sense the anger coming off of him. He didn’t even turn the music on so you sat there uncomfortably in complete silence, only accompanied by the sound of the car engine.

“Dean…”, you tried to begin a sentence, but he quickly cut you off.

“Shut the hell up! I don’t wanna hear it!”

You took a deep breath. You tried to keep your cool because you knew you were in the wrong here, but the way he spoke to you started to make you angry.

“Dean, I know I shouldn’t have left, but you and Sam were working your own case and Charlie needed help…”

“If Charlie needs help, she can always call me! Or Sam! Or Cas! What the hell were you thinking?! Just leaving the bunker like that?! No note, no anything…”

“I left a note!” you protested.

“Well, I didn’t get it!”

“I left it on Sam’s table…”

“Oh, I see! That’s nice! So now you and Sam are keeping stuff from me? That’s great…”

You rolled your eyes. He was so dramatic.

“It’s not like that…”

“No, no, no, you know what? That’s fine! You and Sammy have something going on, I don’t give a crap, but the next time your ass needs saving don’t call me!”

“Well, I’m not the one who called you, Charlie did”, you said calmly.

He shot you a dirty look and stepped on the gas pedal.

“Jesus Christ, man, slow down!”, you gasped.

“Oh, so you can walk into a vampire’s nest all by yourself, but my driving is too much for you?”

He did slow down though. You spent the next thirty minutes driving in silence and then he pulled over in front of a motel.

“Come on”, he said and opened your car door for you.

“We’re stopping here?”

“It’s a five-hour drive to the bunker and you’re still bleeding”.

“I’m not bleeding…”

“Just get out of the car!”

You let out an annoyed sigh, but you listened to him. Truthfully, you were feeling a little dizzy. He booked a room for the two of you and practically carried you inside. He placed you on the bed, took out the first-aid kit from his car and started patching you up in silence.

You could tell by the look on his face that he was still angry, but his hands were gentle and careful. You were trying to think of something to say, something that would make things better, but nothing came to mind. You just observed him. His jaw was clenched and his eyes gloomy, but there was something else in them. Like a trace of… fear? Maybe.

You weren’t unaccustomed to Dean being mad at you and it was so easy to forget why he was that way. He cared. He cared more than anyone you’ve ever met. As much as you bickered, you knew he loved you in a way, and that he was simply scared to lose you.

“Dean…”, you tried again, “I’m sorry”.

He didn’t answer. He didn’t even look at you. He just clenched his jaw harder. You took that as a sign he might actually let you speak now, so you kept going.

“I know I shouldn’t have left like that, and I know I screwed up. I thought I could help, you know? Charlie needed backup and you and Sam were busy… I just thought I shouldn’t let her go on a hunt by herself. I’m sure you wouldn’t have wanted that either. I was just trying to do the right thing… Like you would’ve!”.

His eyes finally met yours. He wasn’t that angry anymore, but he was annoyed at your words.

“You are not me!”, he finally said.

Ouch.

What’s that supposed to mean?

“Well, maybe so, but any backup is better than no back up!”, you defended yourself, “And if it weren’t for me, Charlie would’ve gotten a lot worse than a broken leg!”

At your surprise, he chuckled. Now you were the one who was starting to get angry.

“Don’t laugh at me!”, you said firmly, “You are looking at me like I’m some kind of idiot! Or an amateur! I know I may not have been raised a hunter like you and Sam, but I’ve been through a lot worse than what happened today! I fought by your side against Lucifer and Lilith and Eve and Dick friggin’ Roman! I’ve saved your ass personally multiple times! I’ve been dead! I’ve been to hell! I’m not some stupid civilian, Dean! After everything that happened, I’m… I’m a hunter! Weather you like it or not! Weather I like it or not! I might not be your calibre of a hunter but…”

“Woah, woah, slow down, hunter!”, he raised his hands defensively, “That’s not what I meant!”

You blinked in a surprise.

“Then what exactly did you mean?”, you asked, still frustrated at his tone.

He let out a silent groan.

“Listen, I know you are good at the job. I know you are tough and can handle yourself. Even though today was a bust”, he added in accusatory tone.

You opened your mouth to say something, but he quickly interrupted you.

“But when I say you are not me…”, he shook his head, searching for the right words. He closed his eyes for a second, trying to collect himself and finally spoke again, in a calmer tone.

“Listen, I screw up too! Hell, I’ve screwed up more times than I can count! And you’re right, you’ve saved my ass a lot! So have Sam and dad and Bobby… but if something happens to me, then that’s on me! That’s my own friggin’ fault! But it’s my job to protect you! And if something happens to you… I just couldn’t live with that!”

You listened to him in silence, trying to figure out what exactly he was saying to you. A part of you understood. The guilt, the responsibility he was feeling. You wanted to help him. To help him with that weight he was carrying. To tell him everything is ok and that you understand. But all that came out of your mouth was:

“It’s not your job to protect me, Dean”.

He flinched. Something twinkled in his green eyes and his voice turned cold again.

“I get it, I’m sure you would much rather have Sammy watching over you but I’m afraid I’m all you can get right now!”.

You raised your eyebrows in a surprise.

“What?”, it was all you were able to say.

“Listen, I know you two have something going on and the last thing I want is to get in the way of that, sweetheart”.

You shook your head, and a small smile appeared on your lips before you could stop it.

Is that what this was? This entire tantrum? Was Dean Winchester… jealous?

“I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about”, you said sincerely.

“Sure”, he replied.

“Dean… Sam and I… we’re friends, that’s all! I mean I love him, he’s like a brother to me. Like a big, nerdy, dorky brother I’ve always wanted! And I’d do anything for him, just like you would. But… I could never be with him!”, you made a grimace and laughed.

“Yeah, okay”, he said.

“Why don’t you believe me?”, you laughed out loud this time. You just couldn’t stop it. This entire conversation was so bizarre.

“Because I’m not blind. He’s the one you always turn to when you need something, he’s the one you always call, text, talk to… hell, you left him a note today, didn’t you?”.

“Well, yes…”

“Like I said, I get it! I’m not trying to be a dick!”, he said, “It’s fine by me if you have a thing for each other, I’m glad even… you both deserve to be happy! All I’m saying is, it would be nice to get a heads up when you’re about to do something stupid, especially if I’m the one who’s gonna end up having to save you!”.

“Dean Winchester, I promise you I’m not trying to screw your brother!”, you yelled out,

“The reason I left him a note and not you is because I knew you were going to act like this! You would tell me to turn my ass around and come back home and if I didn’t you would come to get me, just like you did! And THEN you would yell at me just like you did! I’m not picking favourites, it’s just that Sam is easier to deal with sometimes, that’s all!”

“Oh, so I’m difficult to deal with, is that it?”

“Hell yes, you are!”

“So why do you keep dealing with me?”

“Oh, you’re such a damn idiot!”, you stood up from the bed in exasperation.

It was a mistake. The blood rushed to your brain, and you swerved on your feet. He jumped up and grabbed your shoulders with jungle cat-like reflexes. The look on his face went from irritated to worried in a matter of a second. It made you want to chuckle, but you held it in.

Goddamn, did you love this man.

“I’m fine, I’m fine”, you said quickly.

His eyes and voice both softened as he tried to get you back on the bed,

“Maybe you should get some rest. We can keep arguing in the morning”.

You rolled your eyes at him.

“Why do you want to keep arguing with me?”

“Trust me, sweetheart, that’s the last thing I want to do with you”.

Your heart stopped for a second. Your eyes widened and you looked at him in shock.

“Excuse you?”

He let out another sigh and tried to sit you down once again.

“Nothing, just go to sleep”.

“No, no, no, I don’t think so”, you said, shaking your head and turning around to face him, “What was that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, I’m just saying crap. Don’t pay attention to it”.

But you wouldn’t let go. It’s been months since you first started noticing the change in Dean’s behaviour towards you. When you first met, he annoyed you so much and as far as you could tell, the feeling was mutual. You really were closer with Sam for a long time and the only reason you tolerated Dean was because he was his brother. And because well, he did save your life a couple of times. But then you died and came back and Dean, well… changed. You thought it was because of the guilt he felt over your death. Metatron did kill you because of your involvement with the Winchesters.

But it wasn’t just the guilt. You two started going on hunts together, he trusted you, he talked to you and looked at you like he’s never done before. You started suspecting he might have developed feelings for you that were more than just friendship, but there wasn’t an opportunity to bring it up. And you wanted to bring it up. You wanted to bring it up so badly.

“No!”, you protested and looked directly into his eyes, “What did you mean? What do you want to do with me?”, you asked, almost teasingly, but with a genuine desire to receive an answer.

He noticed the change in your tone and his eyes twinkled. His hands were still gently resting on your shoulders, making sure you don’t swerve again. He raised one of them and slowly brought his fingers up to caress your cheek. His touch was soft and warm, but it made a shiver go down your spine as if you were touched by lightning. You raised up your hand and gently placed it on his in affirmation. A small smile escaped both of your lips’.

You were still glaring into his eyes, waiting for him. Finally, his hand cupped your cheek and he brought his face to yours, slowly pressing his lips against yours.

The kiss was deep and gentle and warm, and it left you feeling breathless. You pulled him closer to you, running your fingers through his hair. He responded in the same way, sliding his hands down your waist and grabbing your thighs to lift you off the ground. You locked your legs around him as he carried you over to the table that was placed in the middle of the room.

He placed you on the table as his hands began exploring every inch of your body, his lips never leaving yours. Before you could even form a coherent thought, his hands were all up in your hair, over your chest, your thighs… In the moment they reached between your legs you let out a soft moan and arched your back, leaving your neck so beautifully exposed to him. He took advantage of that and moved his lips down to your collarbone, gently kissing and sucking on it. You pulled him even closer and moaned again. His scent was everywhere. He was everywhere. And it wasn’t enough.

You started to unbutton your plaid shirt but his fingers were quicker than yours.

You smiled at his impatience.

“It’s okay, the buttons won’t run away”, you said.

“I wish they would”, he muttered, making you laugh joyfully.

He smiled and kissed you again, unbuttoning your shirt completely and taking it off you in one fell swoop.

You tried to unbutton his now, but he was already out of it before you could even try.

“God”, you teased him, “You’re so impatient!”

“You have no idea”, he groaned, lifting you up again and crashing you both onto the bed.

He was placing hungry kisses all over your chest and stomach. His fingers then reached down to unbutton your jeans and you shivered in excitement as he slowly pulled them off you.

“Open your legs for me, sweetheart”, he said in a low tone, his eyes looking up to you as they were glistening with excitement and desire.

You bit your lip as you felt another shiver go down your spine.

“Open them”, he repeated.

You did what he asked, slowly spreading your legs as you felt the wetness and the pulsating sensation coming from between.

He gently moved the fabric of your underwear to a side, exposing you to him. His hungry eyes met yours once again as he gave you a soft kiss right between your thighs. You arched your back slightly and grabbed him by the hair, pulling him closer as he kissed and licked and sucked.

“These are getting in the way”, he said quietly and finally took off your panties.

You couldn’t help yourself and another moan left your lips, much louder this time. This encouraged him to go faster as you were becoming a moaning mess underneath his tongue. The pressure started building and building and building… and then he suddenly pulled away.

You widened your eyes in shock, desperate to pull him back down, but he pulled you up instead.

“I’m not done with you yet”, he said quietly as his breath tickled your ear.

You groaned in frustration.

“Now who’s impatient?”, he asked with a teasing smile.

“God, you’re so mean!”, you said.

“We’ll see about that”, he said as he reached down between your legs again and started rubbing your clit. He then slowly pushed one finger inside of you, stretching you out and earning another moan from you.

“Oh, God”, you whispered.

“You like that?”, he asked and added another finger.

You moaned again in response.

“Am I still mean?”

“Yes, you are!”, you responded.

He pushed you back on the bed while placing himself on top of you. He unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans. You reached out and gently cupped the growing bulge in his boxers making him groan quietly. You gasped in excitement. He was so hard.

He noticed your reaction and smiled.

“You see how hard I am for you?”

You bit your lip and nodded. Then you slowly pulled down his boxers and took him into your hands.

You’ve imagined him like this countless times, but you were still pleasantly surprised to see how big he was. You gripped him firmly and began to stroke his shaft as he groaned again.

You licked the tip and then put the rest of his length into your mouth, gently sucking on it. He moaned and tangled his fingers in your hair, pulling you closer.

You sucked harder causing him to cuss and moan again. You loved the sound of it. Your fingers found their way between your legs, and you began touching yourself as you sucked him off.

He seemed to like that even more and by the sounds he was making you could tell he was close.

“You’re going to need to slow down, sweetheart”, he said in a hoarse voice, “Or I’m going to cum without even being inside you first”.

You sucked on him a couple more times but then you let go. He pulled you up to kiss you, but you just pushed him down to the bed and climbed on top of him. His eyes widened in excitement as you guided his length to your entrance and slowly began to ride him.

You loved seeing him like this, messy and desperate for your touch. He gripped your thighs and moaned your name, his eyes staring deep into yours, begging you to fuck him harder.

You gave him what he wished for and began moving your hips faster and faster as you both cussed and groaned.

“Yes, yes”, he was whispering between the moans, “That’s it, ride me baby, please!”.

You were so close, and by the looks of it, so was he. You gripped each other closer as the pressure was building once again. You pulled his face close to your chest as he was about to come and finally, reached the so very anticipated release.

You held each other like that for a couple of minutes, trying to catch your breaths and then you finally laid back in the bed.

He pulled you close to him as you buried your face into his neck, just breathing in his scent. You were laying like that in silence for a little while, not really knowing what to say. Not really needing to say anything. Until he finally started chuckling like a little kid.

“What?”, you raised your eyes to him. “Well, do you wanna keep arguing now?”, he asked with a grin. You laughed too. “Oh, definitely! Just let me get some water first”.

#spn imagine #spn fanfic #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean winchester smut #spn smut #spn angst #dean winchester angst

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millermouth · 4 months ago

Note

Would you write something for Joel where he is patching reader up after a patrol gone wrong, lecturing her about how she should be more careful and stuff, and eventually they end up kissing?

Joel Miller x Reader drabble

Jackson!Joel, fluff, protective, slightly angry, Tommy cameo, reader is hurt: mentions of blood & first aid notes: Hiii thank you for your patience I know this has been in my inbox for forever 😅 hope you guys don't mind I've been doing blurbs/drabbles for requests lately! the creative juice is on E and keeping them short & sweet lets me have more fun!

Your boot slips on the mess of red beneath you—a smattering of blood you’re trying really hard to forget is your own. Your hand presses against your ribs, your shirt torn and soaked through by the time you stumble through the door of the small shed.

"Sit down," Joel orders, voice rough. It’s not a request. He’s already pressing a hand against your shoulder, forcing you onto a storage bin in the dust covered shelter. The plastic groans under your weight.

"I’m fine," you argue, wincing as the words pull at the wound.

Joel scoffs, shaking his head as he kneels in front of you. He’s still catching his breath, hair damp at the temples, hands stained in blood that’s not his own. His fingers press against your side, peeling back your shirt, his touch gentler than his words.

"You don’t get to say that." His voice is sharp, angry, "Not after what you just pulled."

You don’t answer, don’t argue. He’s right. It had been reckless. You’d put yourself between Tommy and an infected, took the hit so he wouldn’t. There hadn’t been time to think.

Footsteps pound outside, then Tommy’s shadow crosses the doorway. His eyes sweep over you, widening.

“Oh, shit,” he mutters under his breath.

"I’m fine," you hiss again.

Joel exhales hard, muttering something under his breath that you don’t catch, but you know him well enough to know exactly what it is. Something about stubbornness. About stupidity. Probably both.

Tommy steps closer, his gaze flicking between you and Joel, and for once, he’s quiet. He must see it—the way Joel is wound so goddamn tight he might snap.

“You’re losin’ a lot of blood,” Tommy mutters, glancing down at the crimson soaking through your shirt. He shifts his weight, slinging his backpack off his shoulder to dig for something.

“She knows,” Joel bites out before you can say anything, his hands already outstretched to take the first aid kit from his brother. His movements are sharp, precise—borderline aggressive—but his hands are steady. Always steady.

Tommy takes the hint, nodding once before backing toward the door. “I’ll keep watch.”

And then it’s just you and Joel.

The silence isn’t comfortable. It’s thick, suffocating, stretched tight between you like a tripwire waiting to snap.

His fingers press into your ribs, searching for deeper damage, and it takes everything in you not to flinch. Not from the pain (okay maybe a little bit from the pain), but from the way his jaw flexes when he sees the gash beneath the fabric.

“Should’ve let me take the hit,” Tommy had shouted earlier, before Joel had practically shoved him out the door of the building swarming with infected. And maybe you should have. Maybe you shouldn’t have thrown yourself into danger without thinking.

But you did.

Joel pulls a bottle of antiseptic from the kit, cracking the cap off with more force than necessary. He’s quiet, but you can feel his anger buzzing beneath the surface, pulsing like a live wire.

“This is gonna sting,” he warns.

You barely have time to brace before the liquid meets your skin, sending a sharp burn through your ribs. You hiss, gritting your teeth, but Joel doesn’t look up. He’s watching his hands, jaw locked so tight it might crack.

“You got a death wish?” He asks quietly, almost under his breath.

You blink, caught off guard. “What?”

“You heard me.” His hands are still on you, pressing gauze to the wound, but his gaze finally lifts, dark and unreadable. “’Cause that’s sure as hell what it looked like out there.”

Your lips part, but he’s not done.

“I don’t need you throwin’ yourself in front of shit for Tommy, for anyone.” His voice is rough, worn thin. “Damn sure don’t need you gettin’ yourself killed for it.”

“I wasn’t thinking,” you admit. “It just… happened.”

Joel shakes his head, exhaling sharply. “That ain’t good enough.”

You should be frustrated. Maybe you are. But there’s something else underneath it—something thick in your throat as you stare at him. Because this isn’t just anger. This isn’t just him lecturing you for being reckless.

This is fear.

Joel’s hands curl against your side, the bandages warm against your skin, and for a second, you swear you feel him tremble.

Your breath stutters, "Joel—"

“No.” His voice is raw. “I can’t—” He exhales hard through his nose, shaking his head, gaze darting away like he’s already said too much. His hands work at the bandage, tying it off to keep the gauze in place. His fingers are rough, purposeful, but there’s something frantic in the way he moves—like if he just keeps working, keeps his hands busy, he won’t have to deal with whatever the hell is breaking open inside of him.

Your heart feels like it tightens in your chest. You want to tell him that you’re fine, but it’s a lie and you both know it. You want to tell him that it won’t happen again, but that’s a lie too.

So instead, you reach out.

Your fingers curl around his wrist, just enough to keep him there, just enough to stop him from pulling away.

He goes still.

Not just his hands—his whole body. His breath catches, his muscles tight beneath your touch. For a second, he just stares at where your fingers wrap around his wrist, like he’s trying to decide whether to pull away or hold on.

And then his shoulders drop, his body slumping forward just slightly. Like he’s exhausted. Like he’s done.

It’s not just anger, not just fear—it’s the man who has spent years keeping people at arm’s length because he knows exactly what happens when he lets them in. The man who tells himself, every single day, not to let this happen. Not to let himself care. Not to let himself love.

But then, for the first time in all the years you’ve known Joel Miller, he finally breaks.

The space between you disappears.

He moves fast, faster than you can process, his hands gently finding your jaw, like he’s trying to ground himself in the feeling of you, in the fact that you’re still here.

“I can’t lose you.” His voice is low, almost too quiet, like the words barely make it past his throat. But they hit you like a hammer, cracking through the wall he’s kept between you for so long.

Then, his lips crash into yours.

It’s not soft, not careful. It’s desperate, raw, laced with something you can’t name. Like he’s spent every moment holding himself back and has finally stopped fighting.

A sound escapes you, something caught between surprise and relief, but you don’t hesitate. Your hands fist in his shirt, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss until there’s nothing left between you but heat and the sharp edge of his breath.

When he finally pulls away, his eyes find yours, his breathing uneven.

“You gotta stop scarin’ me like that,” he murmurs, voice rough against your lips.

You manage a weak, breathless smile.

“No promises.”

He huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head, before kissing you again.

#ask daryltwdixon #requests #Joel miller #Joel Miller x you #Joel Miller x reader #Joel Miller fluff #fluffy Joel miller #Joel Miller one shot #tlou #the last of us #Joel tlou #tlou joel #joel the last of us #joel x reader #the last of us hbo #pixel joel

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gotta-winwin · 6 months ago

Text

(🐍) ... minghao x reader

⭐ starring: minghao

💌 genre/wc: angst, light fluff / 1.2k

💬 preview: you stumble across old records from a damaged diary that seems to hold the conversations between a student and a boy living within the pages.

tw/cw: slytherin!minghao x hufflepuff!reader, diary format, spoliers for the chamber of secrets, needs previous knowledge of hp lore, abstract death, tom riddle appearance

🪽fic rating: pg

☁️ masterlist & a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts for weeks and i'm putting it out in hopes of giving myself some time to work on other stuff hehe. this one's a bit experimental with the format but hope you all enjoy!

p.s thank you so much to @ylangelegy and @diamonddaze01 for beta reading !

hello. fifth year slytherin, here. i found this journal lying in one of the professor’s cupboards - long abandoned, it seems. it looks to contain the mad ramblings of two people, conversing through the pages. i cannot seem to figure out who this once belonged to, pages have been torn out and blurred by water - so i’m writing in hopes another student might.

read it, and let me know if anything comes to mind.

if i have to sit through another class with professor bins, i will avada myself.

finally, something worth replying to. your class notes are utterly boring.

WHAT THE FUCK THE BOOK SPEAKS

…yes, i speak.

go away. you’re speaking over my class notes.

they weren’t good notes anyways. barely competent. abysmally below average.

i cannot believe i’m being insulted by a book right now.

i cannot believe my pristine pages are being vandalized by an incompetent student, yet here we are.

mr. book,

what.

shut up.

mr. book,

what is it now, incompetent student?

can you write my notes for me. pls pls pls i will owe you for life.

that is a very dangerous game to play.

my hand hurts. and you keep saying you’re so smart. write my notes for me.

what house are you in?

hufflepuff. why?

no. i will not write your notes for you.

bro.

what is a bro ??

you know what, never mind. i’ll write them myself. i hope the ink drowns you.

incompetent student hufflepuff girl y/n?? respond to me now.

yes, book?

MY NAME IS NOT BOOK

you refused to tell me your name so i’m sticking with book. mr. book.

can you go to the dungeon bathroom and check one of the faucets for me.

uh. why?

because i said so.

i’m going to waterboard your pages.

you’re quite snappy for a hufflepuff. just go check.

say please.

no.

i’m holding a cup of water above you right now. hello? mr. book?

please. check the faucets.

see? wasn’t so difficult. i’ll go now.

minghao.

what?

my name. stop calling me mr. book

MINGHAOOO

what.

i’m bored.

silly girl. and what am i supposed to do about that?

tell me about yourself. when were you at hogwarts?

a long time ago.

psh. of course i know that.

professor bins was still alive when he taught me. just as boring, trust me.

ooo what else? who were your friends? anyone famous?

i wouldn’t know. i never graduated.

what?

the faucet. did you check?

i did. there’s like a snake or something, but it didn’t do anything.

oh. y/n?

yeah?

don’t go to that bathroom anymore.

why?

just don’t.

hao. people are saying there’s a snake in the walls.

what do you mean?

there was blood on the walls too. talking about the chamber of secrets.

fuck.

minghao? do you know something?

don’t go anywhere alone. promise me. stay with your friends.

i’m scared

you should be.

stop that.

what? hao?

grown fond of your little friend, xu minghao?

tom. stop. i’m sorry, my heart. ignore him.

who? hao, what is going on?

has he neglected to tell you? he isn’t the only inhabitant of this journal. and turns out, he isn’t strong enough to silence me. keep hiding, y/n. i’ll find you soon enough.

hao?

i’m sorry.

i think i’m starting to go a bit crazy.

is everything alright? are you safe?

i’m fine, hao. you worry too much.

i must admit that i’ve grown fond of you.

even if i’m a hufflepuff?

you’re the most tolerable hufflepuff i know.

:) is the uh. tom guy still with us?

my magic suppresses him in short periods of time. we’re alone at the moment.

i still don’t understand. both of you are…inside the book.

tom was here first. the journal was given to me my fifth year, and i spoke to him - much like you right now. from what i’ve gathered, this journal holds a piece of his soul. and a piece of mine as well.

how? why?

[redacted] [redacted]

you are beginning to care for the girl.

i admit she has grown on me.

no. you’ve grown to love her. our souls are intertwined whether you enjoy it or not. do not pretend i cannot feel your emotions.

have mercy. spare her.

are you finally regretting your choice, xu minghao? you once promised me a life in exchange for your life and access to your soulmate. so i spared you, and stored you here with me.

please.

this is what greed gets you, my dear friend. you promised me a life. and i choose hers.

please.

finally. you learn to beg.

she is innocent.

she is your soulmate. the strongest magic our world has. and for that, she is valuable.

my heart.

hao?

i need you to destroy this journal. now.

what? why?

tom must be stopped. i will not let him harm you. destroying the journal will destroy his soul too.

but you’re in the journal too.

yes. a small price to pay for your life.

i won’t do it.

you must.

no. i’m not killing you.

i’ve been dead for a long time, my heart.

i won’t. you cannot make me.

you’re wetting the pages with your tears. stop crying.

hao…

do it. just because the journal is gone doesn’t mean i won’t be with you. every step of the way.

how cute.

note:

> xu minghao: previous slytherin student, renowned potion student. his name is on one of the potion award plaques in the great hall. he died during the second opening of the chamber of secrets, an underground location rumoured to house the slytherin basilisk.

> y/n: referred to as ‘my heart,’ there is no real indication of who she is. while there is a professor portrait in the headmaster’s office who shares the same name, i cannot be certain they are the same person.

> tom: he can only be assumed as he-who-shall-not-be-named, a dark wizard who was killed by the-boy-who-lived years ago.

note:

> the pages are burnt at the edges, erasing most of the conversation that would allow this to make more sense. it is clear to me that someone destroyed this.

note:

> i found something when searching the bathroom mentioned in the first couple entries. i will clip it here.

is he gone?

for now. i cannot contain him for much longer. you must hurry.

you cannot expect me to do this.

from the short time i’ve come to know you, i know that despite being a hufflepuff, you hold the courage of a gryffindor, the brains of ravenclaw, the wit of a slytherin. do not be afraid.

are you not afraid? this could kill you.

i have to admit a part of me still fears death after all this time. but this is my price to pay. i love you, even in the short time we had.

i love you. even if this version of you is only a figment of what you were.

note:

> a point i must bring up: minghao refers to y/n as ‘my heart.’ at first i thought it was just a term of endearment, but upon further research: Soulmates are rare in the wizarding world, although not at all impossible. Soulmates share more than their magic, they share their hearts. One cannot die if the other is still alive -- making soulmates the most powerful form of magic to exist. It may be the only way to cheat death without the use of a horcrux.

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anomaly-hivemind · 9 months ago

Text

Delulu is the Solulu ☆ Gyutaro x Reader | Kinktober Day 28

Summary: He loves me... he loves me not, oh who am I kidding of course he loves me~

Word Count: 2015

Tags: voyeurism, mutual masturbation, obsession, mentions of death, rough sex, stalking, possessive, yandere x yandere,

You were reading the love letters to your secret admirer, you had been getting a lot of them and it always brought a smile to your face. The one you were currently reading a poem they had made for you.

I want to feel your skin,

The way lovers do.

Caress your hair as If it were mine

See the world in your eyes

Smell your love from miles away so I could never forget it.

I want to feel your skin,

More than just the surface.

Taste the flavor of your bones

Dig deep into you blood

Infiltrate your nervous system so that I could feel you like no other.l

I want to feel your skin,

Like always you would.

Trail my hands as if they were yours

Take your last breath

Wear your life as if it's my final decision just so I could make people smile the way you do.

I need to feel your skin,

Even if you're no more.

Drink your essence until I choke

Gagging up biles of your heart

Pouring out the metallic red on my eyes so I can see nothing but you.

I need to feel your skin,

Even if I have to take it.

Peel the layers back until you squeal

Sculpt you down because only I can paint you in this light.

I'll Write you down in my blood for that would make it useful.

I need to feel you skin,

I need You.

They must really be in love with you if this is the type of thing they send to you; you let out a content sigh. You as you fall down onto your bed. You reread the letter over and over again as you think up anything that could get you going, conjuring up fantasies of what you would do if you got your hands on your secret admirer. It's been a whole month since you started to get these written notes, and a few months before that, you found a bunch of your stuff going missing, like your bras and panties. It had crossed your mind that your admirer and your clothes thief were one and the same, but it never bothered you; in fact, it brought a heat between your legs and a flutter to your heart. You didn’t even catch yourself when you fell asleep, the letter still in your hand.

Your admirer was watching you from one of your windows, their smile growing when they noticed that you fell asleep. You hand over the letter that he had placed in your home while you weren't there. He moved to your back window, which had a faulty lock, thanks to his handiwork, and crawled inside your home. Once he was inside, he wasted no time walking into your room. He wished that he could have gotten to see you when you had first seen the letter but he was busy getting rid of some trash you had accumulated at your workplace. It was only some guy who was flirting with you; no one would miss him anyway.

He watches you shift in your sleep, a flutter in his chest when he looks at you, thinking it is finally time for him to claim you as his. He runs a cold hand and has your skin caressing you gently and waiting for you to stir. He crawls onto your bed. Lying beside you and staring at you while sleeping. You feel a warmth covering your body, assuming that you had subconsciously put your covers around YouTube, and then you feel the faint fanning of breathing on your face. It causes you to start to wake up to see what this is. When you open your eyes, you get started wondering why; there was a man, who you didn't know, in your bed watching you sleep. You both jump back and just stare at each other.

“Who the fuck are you!” You throw a pillow at his face and watch him stumble back on the bed, almost falling off of it.

“Who do you think it is?” He makes no attempt to hide the fact that he was some random person in your house. But then it clicked that this wasn't just any stranger or creep, this was your stalker.

You looked him up and down, taking in his black hair with green highlights, his grayish skin, and the blotches on his skin. He had tired eyes, and they were staring at you. He was also taking in your body and the casual clothes that you had been wearing before you got into bed. A smile creeps its way up your face before you speak.

“What’s your name, stalker?” You crawled back into your bed and looked up at him, holding another pillow just in case he had any negative intentions, but you doubted that, knowing that your admirer had a thing for you. You looked down at the letter you had received when you got home, which was clearly a declaration of love, just like the other ones were.

“You really want to know, you're not scared at all?” you keep staring at him, you couldn't help but think he was attractive in his own right and you couldn't be more excited to finally see your man in person for the first time. You give him a couple of eager nods and wait for him to give you his name.

“Please tell me, I need to know my admirer's name, you've been occupying my fantasies for months now.“ you rub your thighs together, feeling the heat you did before you fell asleep.

“Gyutaro,” his eyes drift down to you, rubbing your legs together, and he licks his lips. You test his name on your tongue.

“Well, I hope you came here for a specific reason, Gyutaro” you asked him while still rubbing your legs together.

“Oh, I definitely came here for a reason.” You watched his hand go down his pants, groping his cock through his pants. It was the only confirmation you needed from him, and you knew exactly what he wanted to see.

You lay back on the bed, shimming your way out of your pants, your eyes never leaving Gyutaro. Both of you are looking at each other. As you slowly move your hands down your body and between your legs. You let out a soft sigh as you bring your hand into your pants to start to touch your pussy. You watch as Gyutaro does the same with his pants and fishes his cock out of them in order to actually stroke himself. While also giving you a show, your eyes were glowering at his cock as it swayed with his hand movement. You find it hypnotic, and it is turning you even more, you can actually feel yourself getting wetter as you finger yourself.

You try to match his pace, imaging that he was the one fucking you as you pump your fingers inside your walls. You let out moans that you didn't try to hide and looked into his eyes with love and desire as if you had been waiting for this very moment for years. Gyutaro has been inching closer to you every once in a while as he continued to jerk himself off, his facial expression seemingly torn between watching you and trying not to bust quickly that he was in front of you for real and not between a glass or closet door watching you instead.

“Please move closer.” You let out a whine as you fully take off your underwear and sloppily work to get naked for him. He follows suit and strips out of his clothes and then crawls onto the bed and gets between your legs before resuming his movement of jacking on, now with a much better and more intimate view of you. Pushing your fingers back down, you tease your clit while stretching out your walls so you can take him. That is exactly what you were planning in your head for him to do.

“Move your hand” His hips were almost flushed against yours, and his cock was right over your working hand as you both pictured was next to come.

You do as he tells you to and move your wet hand, and he takes it and brings it to his mouth, you can feel his sharp teeth brush against your fingertips. He licked your juices off your hand before letting you push his cock inside of you. A loud collision of sound escapes your lips as he bottoms out into your welcoming entrance. All of it feels better than you could have ever imagined, which you definitely have imagined. You sit up to pull him down a bit and to hold on to him but he moves quicker to hold you in place.

“I want to see the look on your face when you cum.” he tells you, and you nod again, a bit of panting feels like the only sound you can make as he starts to move at a fast pace. It gives you no time to get used to him being in you, and you can’t complain because you are so overcome with joy.

You let yourself be taken away into the pleasure gates as he fucked you like there was no tomorrow and that no one else could ever matter, and that’s all you could ever ask for. You were melting, your walls clenching and unclenching around his cock that was pistoning into you roughly. He was holding you down, biting your skin, huffing, puffing, and muttering claims over you. A tear ran down your eyes, and it was from how much you were enjoying every second of this intersection. You wondered what would happen after this moment you shared. Will you both start dating? He could move in with you, hope he’s thought about marriage; is he the reason people you don't like keep going missing? All those things would pop up in your head after he would thrust into you.

"Give me everything," I moaned, my voice low and husky with desire. "Fill me with your seed, Gyutaro. I want to feel you deep inside me, claiming me as yours.” It was the first important thing you thought about asking him.

“I plan on it.” he gives you the reassurance that you crave, and his hip movement becomes more erratic, his groans and moans more present. You know you are about to cum and that he was the only man that could possibly make you feel the way you do right now because he knows you so well. You know that he's perfect in every way, and nothing he does could make you love him any less, he's the one, and you'll both see to it that everyone who crosses your path knows it.

You wrap your legs around his hips and try to meet his thrust; he tightens his grip on your hips, his fingernails digging into your skin, causing you to let out a whimper, even if you don't want him to stop, in your face, you want what he can give you and then some. You grip his hair with a force that causes him to let out a moan, and you move in haste to eat up, bringing his lips against yours. Gyutaro was basically sucking your face, and you were doing the same back to him, you kissed messy and aggressively, and it was sure to leave your lips swollen. You bite his tongue, drawing a bit of blood, he lets out a hiss before pulling back, and being able to taste him that way causes a bright smile on your face as you savor the faint taste.

You both fall into the fiery depth of orgasms, and your bodies move flush together; Gyutaro makes sure to watch your face contort as he causes you pleasure and fills you with his essence. You were all his, and he would kill for you just to prove it.

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luvst4rc0r3 · 5 months ago

Note

HII so idk what's going on with the whole pregnant reader thing but I feel like u stabbed me bcz why u gotta make it so sad😭 but I thought about the idea that after reader's miscarriage and Jinx takes in Isha, she gets a taste of what it's like to be a mom and it gives her the hope to try again. But then after Isha dies, everything all goes to shit again (events of act 3 play out), but then after Jinx gets out of jail and teams up with Ekko, she goes to reader and says something like "once this is all over, we're getting out of here." And they move to bildgewater together and have an actual child there in a more healthy and happy space :)) maybe for a time skip part but idk lol, anyway just thought I'd leave this here!! Live laugh love Jinx

request: Your “I don’t wanna be here anymore.”

It was super interesting.

And also made me cry😭😭

Can you write a happy ending for it?

TY if you do

request:I'm gonna need a good ending where Jinx and r have the baby and live happily ever after because that last ask fucked me up😭😭😭😭

"But good things don’t always last forever"

Jinx x F!Reader

WARNINGS: DEATH, MENTIONS OF MISCARRIAGE!! WC: 3165

NOTE: erm I hope yall are ok now.

Summary: After a heartbreaking miscarriage, you fall into despair, but Jinx—determined to bring light back into your life—unexpectedly finds a little girl named Isha, who needs a family just as much as you both do.

PT.1

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭ ⊹────⊹

The hideout was quiet. Too quiet.

Jinx hated it.

She sat on the edge of the bed, bouncing her leg as she watched you, curled up with your back to her, shoulders trembling under the blanket. You’d barely moved in hours. Days. It felt like weeks.

Jinx wasn’t great with words, but she knew that whatever she said wouldn’t make it better. The grief sat heavy between you, thick and suffocating. She wanted to tear it apart, blow it up, do something—but this wasn’t something she could fix with bombs or bullets.

So, she stayed. As much as she wanted to run from feelings, from pain, she stayed.

She reached out, brushing her fingers over your arm.

“Hey, toots…” Her voice was softer than usual. Hesitant. “Y’wanna get outta here? Just for a bit?”

You didn’t answer. Didn’t even stir.

Jinx sighed. She pressed a quick kiss to your shoulder before getting up.

“I’ll be back,” she muttered.

You didn’t respond.

Jinx wandered the streets of Zaun, hands stuffed in her pockets, trying to ignore the ache in her chest. She hated seeing you like that. Hated knowing there was nothing she could do to take away your pain.

She needed to find something. Something that could help.

It had been weeks since everything fell apart—since the baby was gone. Since your heart had shattered into something unrecognizable. You barely left the bed, barely ate, barely breathed.

Jinx never said it, but you knew it scared her.

She’d always been the reckless one, the impulsive one, the wild one. But now, you were the one slipping away.

And Jinx? She didn’t know how to stop it.

So, she did what she always did when the world felt like too much. She ran.

Jinx wasn’t looking for a kid.

She was looking for a fight, for trouble—something, anything to pull her out of her head. Out of you and the way you wouldn’t even look at her anymore.

But what she found was a girl.

Small. Filthy. Silent.

Fell on top of her while some guys chased her.

Once Jinx shot off the guys she crouched in front of her, frowning.

“Hey, shorty. What’s your deal?”

No answer.

The girl just stared.

Jinx clicked her tongue. “Oh, great. You’re broken too.”

Still nothing.

Jinx was about to leave—she wasn’t in the business of picking up strays—but then she saw it.

A fresh bruise, deep and purple, blooming along the girl’s cheek.

Jinx’s stomach twisted.

“…Shit.”

She wasn’t good at this stuff. She wasn’t you. But you… you would’ve stopped. You would’ve helped.

And maybe, just maybe, if she brought this kid home, you’d look at her again.

Jinx sighed, rubbing the back of her neck.

“follow me or not. I don’t care”

She followed.

She studied the kid. Dirty, scared, alone. Just like she used to be.

Maybe… maybe this was it. The something she’d been looking for.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭ ⊹────⊹

You didn’t know what to think when Jinx came home with her.

You sat up in bed, blinking blearily as Jinx strolled in, dragging a small, silent child behind her.

“Babe, meet Isha. Isha, meet Babe.” Jinx grinned like this was normal. Like she hadn’t just brought home a whole person.

You just stared.

“…What?”

Jinx flopped onto the bed beside you, throwing an arm over your waist.

“She fell on me. Didn’t say a word. Figured, y’know, she could use some better company. We could use some better company.”

You looked at the child.

She was thin. Too thin. Her hands were curled into tight little fists, her lips pressed together in an unreadable line. She looked… wary. Not scared, not trusting. Just waiting.

For what, you weren’t sure.

But you knew that feeling.

Jinx sighed against your shoulder. “You’re not mad, are ya?”

You swallowed. No. You weren’t mad.

You were just… tired.

But when you looked at Isha—really looked at her—something deep inside you cracked.

Maybe it was the way she wouldn’t meet your eyes. Maybe it was the way she stood, stiff and defensive, like she expected you to tell her to leave.

Or maybe it was the way, despite all of it, she still stayed.

“…She can stay,” you murmured.

Jinx made a triumphant noise.

Isha didn’t react.

But when you got up and grabbed a blanket, draping it over her tiny shoulders, she didn’t flinch away.

That was enough.

For now.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭ ⊹────⊹

The first few days were quiet.

Isha barely made a sound. You barely spoke. Jinx bounced between watching you both like a hawk and blowing things up in the dead of night, like movement could stop her from thinking too hard.

But, slowly, something shifted.

It started small.

You’d wake up in the morning, roll over, and instead of being met with an empty bed, you’d find Isha sitting on the floor, drawing.

She wasn’t great at it—her little hands were too shaky, the colors smeared—but it was something.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you wanted to do something, too.

So, one day, you sat beside her.

She tensed—always waiting for rejection—but when you picked up a crayon and started drawing next to her, she hesitated. Then, slowly, she handed you a blue one.

That was the first good day.

Jinx practically vibrated with excitement when she saw the two of you, sprawled out on the floor, doodling nonsense.

“Holy shit, progress!” she cheered, flopping onto your back. “Babe, you’re alive again!”

You snorted, nudging her playfully.

“This is a miracle!” Jinx gasped dramatically, clutching her chest. “Someone get me a camera—this belongs in the history books!”

Isha watched Jinx’s antics with wide eyes, and when you turned to her, you swore you saw something flicker on her face.

Something close to a smile.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭ ⊹────⊹

You couldn’t sleep much anymore.

ever since everything.

And tonight? Tonight was bad.

She woke up to the sound of you breathing too fast, fingers twitching in your sleep.

She didn’t hesitate.

Sliding closer, she brushed your fingers through your hair, pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

“Babydoll,” she murmured. “Wake up, love.”

you gasped awake, eyes darting wildly until they landed on her.

She didn’t say anything. Just held you.

Your arms wrapped around you tight—desperate, grounding—and for a while, you both just stayed like that.

Then, small movement.

You looked up.

Isha stood in the doorway, blanket clutched in her hands, staring with wide, uncertain eyes.

Jinx let out a breath, forcing a smirk. “Hey, shortstack. Couldn’t sleep either, huh?”

Isha hesitated, then shook her head.

You lifted the blanket, silently inviting her in.

For a moment, she stayed frozen. Then, carefully, she climbed onto the bed, curling up between you both.

Jinx snorted. “Well, well. Looks like we’re officially outnumbered.”

You chuckled, pressing a kiss to Isha’s hair.

And for the first time in forever, you slept through the night, peacefully.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭ ⊹────⊹

It started with a rainy day.

Zaun’s skies were always grim, but today, the rain came in heavy, flooding the alleyways and making the apartment feel even smaller.

Isha sat by the window, watching raindrops race down the glass. Her little fingers traced them, following each droplet with quiet concentration.

Jinx groaned dramatically, sprawled upside down on the couch, legs hanging over the backrest. “I’m bored.”

You smirked, looking up from your book. “And whose fault is that?”

“Yours,” she shot back immediately, flipping onto her stomach. “Entertain me.”

You rolled your eyes. “Not my job.”

Jinx gasped, hand over her heart. “Wow. Rude.” Then, she perked up, eyes gleaming. “Wait. I got it.”

She jumped to her feet, startling Isha, who turned and blinked.

“Pillow fort.” Jinx grinned, pointing dramatically at you. “Right now.”

You raised a brow. “Aren’t we a little old for—”

Jinx was already tearing cushions off the couch.

Isha watched her with wide, curious eyes.

Jinx caught her staring and grinned. “Whaddya think, shortstack? Wanna help?”

Isha hesitated. Then, slowly, she nodded.

Jinx let out a victorious whoop! and tossed a blanket over her head. “Welcome to the chaos, kid!”

You couldn’t help but smile.

Within half an hour, the living room was transformed.

Blankets draped over chairs, cushions stacked like castle walls, fairy lights strung across the ceiling. It was warm, cozy, perfect.

Isha crawled inside, eyes wide as she ran her hands over the soft fabric.

Jinx flopped down beside her, arms behind her head. “Not bad, huh?”

You sat across from them, watching as Isha slowly, carefully, curled up between you both.

For the first time all day, she relaxed.

Jinx smirked, nudging you playfully. “See? Told you it was a good idea.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Alright, fine. You win.”

Jinx puffed out her chest. “Damn right I do.”

Isha watched your banter, something soft in her expression. Then—carefully, hesitantly—she reached out and took your hand.

Your breath caught.

She turned to Jinx, then did the same.

Jinx’s eyes widened.

Neither of you spoke.

You just squeezed her tiny hands, warmth blooming in your chest as the rain pattered softly outside.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭ ⊹────⊹

It started with Jinx.

Because of course it did.

She thought it would be hilarious to put blue dye in your shampoo.

You stepped out of the bathroom, dripping wet, staring at her with murderous intent.

Jinx, sprawled on the couch with Isha in her lap, burst into laughter.

“Oh—oh my god—babe, you look—” She was wheezing, wiping tears from her eyes. “I—I’m sorry, I can’t—”

Isha, sitting innocently beside her, covered her mouth, eyes shining with amusement.

You crossed your arms. “You think this is funny?”

Jinx gasped for breath. “Babe, c’mon, you’re literally blue!”

Isha let out a small, breathy giggle.

You smirked.

“Alright, Powder,” you said sweetly. “Game on.”

Jinx’s laughter stopped.

“…Wait.”

By the end of the week, it was war.

You switched Jinx’s sugar with salt.

She short-sheeted the bed.

You put hot sauce in her morning coffee.

She filled your boots with glitter.

Isha, watching the chaos unfold, was delighted.

And then—

The prank truce.

Because somehow, somehow, Isha got caught in the middle.

Jinx had set up an elaborate bucket trap for you, but you weren’t the one who walked through the door.

Isha did.

The bucket tipped.

Flour everywhere.

A long, long silence followed.

Jinx paled. “Oh. Shit.”

Isha, completely dusted in white, blinked.

You braced for tears.

But instead—

She grinned.

Then, the softest, most mischievous giggle bubbled out of her.

Jinx gasped. “Babe.”

You were already smirking. “She’s one of us.”

Jinx wiped a fake tear from her eye. “I’m so proud.”

And just like that, Isha became the ultimate prank war champion.

You had created a monster.

And honestly?

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭ ⊹────⊹

Your life finally feels complete again.

For weeks you felt alone and scared.

Scared that you failed Jinx.

You saw Jinx actual feel like she has a purpose again.

But then—

when you both were finally settling in your guy’s new life.

she was gone.

But now—

you guys have Isha

finally feel full again.

but good things don’t always last forever.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭ ⊹────⊹

It happened too fast.

One second, you were all together—fighting, running, surviving.

The next—

Isha was holding a gun.

Your breath caught in your throat, legs moving before your brain could catch up.

Jinx screamed.

“Isha!”

Jinx lunged.

She almost made it.

Almost.

Isha’s eyes met yours—And then—

She was gone.

Falling.

And then—nothing.

Silence.

it wasn’t fair.

Not again.

Not her.

Not your baby.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭ ⊹────⊹

Everything burned.

Piltover was drowning in smoke, fire licking at the streets, sirens screaming in the distance. The air was thick with dust and blood, and the world felt like it was cracking apart.

And maybe it was.

Maybe you were.

Jinx stood beside you, gun smoking, eyes wild. Her fingers twitched on Fishbones, but her grip was steady. It always was in a fight.

She turned to you, breath ragged, face smeared with dirt and sweat.

“Once we’re out,” she rasped, voice raw from screaming, “we’ll get the life we always wanted.”

You swallowed, gripping your own weapon, heart pounding against your ribs.

“Jinx—”

“I mean it.” She reached for you, gripping your wrist like it was the only thing keeping her grounded. “No more running. No more fighting. Just us, babe. We’ll leave. Start fresh. We’ll have—”

She choked on the words.

But you knew.

She meant Isha.

She meant family.

She meant the life that was stolen from you both.

Your throat tightened. “Jinx…”

“I swear.” Her eyes burned, desperate, pleading. “Just hold on a little longer. Please.”

You exhaled shakily.

Then—slowly—you nodded.

Jinx let out a breath, pressing her forehead to yours.

For a moment, just one, the war didn’t exist.

It was just you and her.

Like it used to be.

Like it could be again.

If you survived.

If you made it out.

Jinx pulled back, smirking despite the blood on her lip. “C’mon, babe.” She lifted Fishbones. “Let’s finish this.”

And so, you did.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭ ⊹────⊹

The war ended in fire.

You made it out.

Barely.

With nothing but your weapons, the clothes on your backs, and the weight of ghosts in your hearts—

you both flew away.

Flew away from the wreckage. From the war. From everything.

And when you stopped running—

You were in Bilgewater.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭ ⊹────⊹

The first thing you noticed was the salt.

Bilgewater smelled like the sea—like salt and spice and damp wood. The docks groaned under the weight of ships, traders shouting over each other as people bustled past.

It was chaotic. Loud. Messy.

It was perfect.

Jinx stretched, arms high above her head, letting out a long, satisfied sigh.

“Smells like fish and crime,” she said, grinning. “I love it.”

You snorted. “You would.”

She turned to you, nudging your side. “You sure about this, babe? New place, new start—no more blowing stuff up for fun. You ready for that?”

You exhaled, looking out at the ocean.

The wind was soft here. The sun actually touched your skin instead of hiding behind smog.

You turned back to Jinx, taking her hand in yours.

“Yeah,” you murmured. “I’m ready.”

Jinx’s grin softened.

She squeezed your hand.

“Then let’s go home.”

It wasn’t much.

Just a small shack near the docks—rickety, barely standing, but yours.

Jinx spent weeks fixing it up, scrounging for parts, muttering about “engineering genius” and “making this place badass.”

You just watched her work, heart full for the first time in what felt like forever.

Because she was happy.

You both were.

No more war. No more running.

Just waking up with Jinx tangled around you, her hair messy, her breath warm against your neck.

Just late nights on the rooftop, watching the waves, talking about nothing and everything.

Just peace.

And one day, as Jinx lay beside you, fingers lazily tracing patterns on your arm, she whispered—

“We made it.”

You turned to her, brushing blue strands from her face.

“We did.”

She smiled, soft and real, and for the first time in a long time—

There were no ghosts.

No war.

No grief.

Just you and her.

And the life you always wanted.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭ ⊹────⊹

Bilgewater had been home for a couple months now.

The war was a distant memory, just a story told in whispers between you and Jinx when the nights stretched too long and the past felt too close.

Life had settled.

Jinx still tinkered, still got into trouble, still stole things just because she could. But she was happy. She laughed more, slept easier, held you like she was afraid you’d slip away in the night.

And you?

For the first time in your life, you were at peace.

But something was missing.

Something you and Jinx didn’t talk about out loud—not for months, not after what happened.

Then one night, as you both lay tangled on the couch, a storm raging outside, Jinx spoke—soft, hesitant.

“…Do you ever think about it?”

You didn’t have to ask what she meant.

You turned to her, fingers brushing absentmindedly through her blue strands. “Every day.”

Jinx swallowed.

She sat up, looking at you—really looking—and her voice was barely a whisper when she said—

“What if we tried again?”

Your breath caught.

Jinx rushed ahead before you could answer.

“Not—not to replace her,” she stammered. “Never that. Just… I dunno. We had a good thing. A great thing. And I think we could—” She exhaled sharply, eyes darting away. “Forget it. Dumb idea.”

You caught her chin gently, making her meet your gaze.

“It’s not dumb,” you said. “It’s perfect.”

Jinx blinked.

Then—slowly—her lips curled into a small, hopeful grin.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭ ⊹────⊹

BONUS!!!!!

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭ ⊹────⊹

It took time.

But one day, finally, you held her.

Tiny. Fragile. A weight so light it barely felt real in your arms.

You stared down at the baby, throat tight, heart pounding in a way you hadn’t felt in years.

Jinx hovered beside you, practically vibrating.

“D’you think she’s defective?” she muttered.

You snorted. “Jinx.”

“She hasn’t said anything.”

“She was literally just born.”

Jinx huffed, poking the baby’s cheek. “Still. I expected more personality.”

The baby let out a soft, sleepy sigh.

Jinx melted.

“…Okay, that was kinda cute.”

You shook your head, smiling. Then, quietly, you whispered—

“Isha.”

Jinx froze.

The boat went silent, save for the distant sound of the waves against the docks.

You looked up, meeting Jinx’s eyes.

Her breath hitched.

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

Then—slowly—Jinx exhaled, her lips curling into something small, soft.

She reached out, tracing a gentle finger over the baby’s tiny fist.

“Isha,” she repeated, voice barely above a whisper.

Like it was something sacred.

You nodded, eyes stinging.

“She deserves to be remembered…both kids need to be remembered”

Jinx swallowed, blinking rapidly.

Then, suddenly, she grinned.

“Well,” she said, nudging your shoulder. “Let’s just hope this one doesn’t start a prank war.”

You chuckled, pressing a kiss to Isha’s tiny forehead.

“No promises.”

Jinx smirked.

Then she leaned in, brushing her lips against yours, whispering—

“We made it.”

You smiled.

“Yeah,” you murmured. “We did.”

And as Isha let out a tiny yawn, curling into your chest, the past finally let go.

The war was over.

The ghosts were gone.

And the life you always wanted?

It was here.

It was real.

And it was yours.

I love making angst and fluff stories!! They are so fun to craft!!

I want sleep.

#arcane x reader #arcane x y/n #jinx arcane #jinx lol #jinx league of legends #jinx #x you #x reader #arcane x you #x y/n #jinx x reader #isha arcane #jinx and isha #powder #isha is alive #arcane #arcane season 2 #arcane s2 #arcame

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ythankucaptainmccoy · 1 year ago

Text

The Cowgirl and The Aviator Ch.1

I keep seeing all the City Girl Reader x Jake stories, but no cowgirl reader x Jake. So I decided to take the liberty of writing one myself. Hope y'all enjoy it!

This was the first time you were going to see Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw. You had both crossed paths in college becoming close friends, and when he heard that you were trying to get away from a stalker ex boyfriend he had suggested you come stay with him. He had just gotten back from a big mission, but couldn’t tell you the specifics other than he had a near death experience. The skyline was beautiful as you drove towards Bradley’s apartment.

When you pulled up the apartment was close to the beach. You walked up to the second floor finding his apartment number and knocked on the door. It only took a few minutes when the door swung open to reveal Bradley in shorts a white tank and ugly Hawaiian shirt. “You still wear those Hawaiian shirts”, you laughed. “Of course, and you're still wearing jeans, cowboy boots and that ratty old ball cap. You’re in California now might as well go for some shorts”, he laughed back.

“No way”, you said. Bradley swooped you up squeezing the life out of you. “It’s so good to see you,” he stated. “Same here Rooster same here”, you smiled. He set you back down and offered to help you bring your stuff in. “You still drive this old truck”, he said. “Yeah I can’t let this baby go. Great gas mileage and as Joe Diffie says an 8 foot bed that never has to be made. Not to mention the bench seat”, you giggle as Bradley’s face goes red.

“I swear your mind is always in the gutter”, Bradley jested. “Well I grew up on a farm with brothers what did you expect”, you huffed dramatically. Bradley helped you get your measly duffle bag into the apartment. “Holy shit Roo this is an apartment? More like a small house”, you say more to yourself than Bradley. “Well I’m a tall guy I gotta have room”, he joked. He showed you to the guest room, and left you alone to unpack.

It took you all of ten minutes to unpack your things, and when you walked out to the main living area Bradley was hanging up his cellphone. “Hey want to go down to the Hard Deck with me?”, he asked. “If it’s a bar ya’ know I’m in” you respond eagerly. “You want to change?”, he questioned. “No I’m in comfortable clothes”, you replied. Once the apartment was all locked up you went straight for the Bronco. It was the same as you remembered it back in college no changes had been made.

The drive to the bar was filled with remembering old stories. When he pulled into a parking spot at the bar he got that serious look on his face. “Listen, some of the guys I fly with will be here, but there is one in particular you should stay away from”, he all but growls. “His callsign is Hangman and he is the type you don’t want to get mixed up with”, he tells you. “Noted”, you fake salute as you both make your way into the bar.

It was lively for a Thursday afternoon as you followed Rooster to a pool table where two guys and a woman were playing. “Rooster, good to see you man and you brought a date”, one of the guys said. “Oh no we aren’t dating. This is the friend I told you about (Y/N)”, Bradley stated. “You’re right there is no way you could have snagged her, she's too hot for you”, the woman laughed. “Phoenix but you can call me Nat”, she said, extending her hand.

You shook her hand as she introduced Payback and Fanboy. You sat back as they continued their game. Bradley had sneaked off to get another round of beers. When he came back he handed everyone their beers as the next round of pool started. You declined to play as Bradley joined this game. Half way through you were out of beer. “I’m going to the bar if anybody needs anything”, you announced. Everyone saying they were alright for now you headed towards the bar.

Low and behold there was Pete. He had come to some of the college baseball games when Bradley played and Bradley had introduced you. You said hello as a woman stepped up to ask what you would like. “What bourbons do you have?”, you questioned. The woman listed them and you made your choice. “I’ll take the Jack n’ Coke and make it a double please”, you answered.

As she made your drink Pete introduced you to her. She was the bar owner, Penny, who he was currently dating. You congratulated them and turned to find Bradley had taken to the piano and the pool table was free. You quickly made your way there and picked up a pool stick. You were down to the last couple of shots when you swore you felt someone was staring at you.

Jake had just walked in and was ordering a beer scoffing when he heard the familiar tune Rooster was playing on the piano. Then movement at the pool table caught his eye. A woman that definitely didn’t fit this type of bar scene was bent over the pool table lining up a shot. He couldn’t help but stare at her ass and the way those jeans hugged it. Once Penny handed him his beer he started making his way to the pool table.

“Uh oh looks like Hangman has his sights set”, Penny said. Maverick looked and started to laugh, “Oh don’t worry she can handle herself trust me”. Penny gave him a questioning look, but proceeded to watch what was about to happen. Jake had just made it to the pool table when you sank another shot. “I don’t mean to be rude darlin’, but it doesn’t look like you’re from around here”, he stated smiling.

“As a matter o’ fact I’m not”, you replied. “Well with that accent I’d say the south”, he guessed. “And with that accent and cocky attitude I’m guessing Texan and an aviator”, you said, sinking another shot while looking him in the eye. “Well you’d be right. Mind if I join ya I promise I’ll go easy on ya. Names Jake by the way”, he cockily replied. “I guess, but it’ll be a cold day in hell before I go easy on ya. Mines (Y/N)”, you smugly replied.

Jake liked this one already, feisty, and willing to dish it back at him. Usually women would already be giggling and batting their lashes at him. “I would say gentleman first, but you don’t look much like a gentleman”, you scoffed. “Ouch. I would say ladies first, but you look more like a hellcat. Tell me how sharp are your claws”, he said wiggling his eyebrows at you. “You’ll never find out”, you replied. “How about a bet”, he said. “Alright I’m listening”, you responded.

“I’ll give you a hundred dollars if you win”, he states. “What if you win?”, you inquired. “If I win you go out on a date with me, and maybe if I like you we can go back to my apartment”, he added. You seemed to think it over as the smile stayed on his smug face. Who did this guy think he was for one and for two you weren’t one for one night stands, but a hundred dollars was a hundred dollars. “Alright you're on, but when you lose don’t throw a tantrum like a child”, you told him.

He let you go first which was his first mistake. You shot and the balls scattered and the solid red seven went in. The next shot you lined up and the yellow one ball went in. You were lining up and about to shoot when the man you were playing against brushed up against you to whisper in your ear. “Ya know, ya look good bent over this pool table wonder what else you would look good bent over”, he declared.

You knew he was trying to throw you off, and you glanced over your shoulder at him giving a sultry look. Then you sank your shot standing to line up your next shot. “Honey just quit while you’re ahead”, you smirked. You missed the next shot and he took his turn and sank one of his shots. Jake was lining up his next shot when he looked up, only for you to be right across from him leaning on a table with your ass jutted out talking with none other than Bob.

No you weren’t talking you were flirting how could you flirt with Bob and not him. He was tall, handsome and could show you a much better time he was sure of it. When his shot missed you quickly turned to look at him with a shit eating grin. “Looks like it’s my turn”, you declared. You sank a shot, but then you felt him behind you and he leaned over you almost caging you in. “You sure that's a good angle?”, he examined. “Oh I think I’ll do just fine”, you retorted then brought the pool stick back tapping him below the belt.

He groaned and backed up enough for you to sink your shot. You sank another shot, but missed the next one. As he bent over the pool table to line up his shot you took your chance. You walked up and whispered in his ear, “How many rounds do you think I could ride before fallin’ off”. Then for good measure you turned letting him watch your ass sway as you walked to get your drink. He was imagining all the ways he could have you whimpering and calling his name.

He lined up his shot and it was slightly off making him frown. You were starting to get to him and you both carried on like that until there were only a couple shots left. You were winning and to be honest Jake couldn’t even be upset. Just being around you and flirting, if one could call it that, was entertaining and he wondered even if he lost if you would give him a chance to take you out on a date. You asked for a break to go to the bar and get another drink.

“I’ll get it, what're you havin’?”, Jake asked, accent thick. “Thanks but I can get my own drinks. Bob make sure he doesn’t cheat”, you smiled. Bob nodded and Jake watched as you made your way to the bar putting a little more sway in your hips than normal. When you made it to the bar Penny waited on you again. “You know you should be careful with that one”, Penny told you, referring to Jake. “Why’s that?”, you implored.

“He is a one night stand kind of guy”, she mentioned. “It’s alright Penny I’ve dealt with his kind before”, you smirked. Pete shook his head as he continued to drink his beer. You made it back just in time for Rooster and his friends to come back over to the pool table. Rooster grabbed your elbow asking, “What did you bet?”. “Calm down Roo he bet that if I win he gives me a hundred bucks and if he wins I go on a date with him”, you huffed. “Seriously, why the hell would you do that?”, Bradley grits out. “Because it seemed like fun and a hundred dollars is a hundred dollars”, you respond.

“Bradshaw as I live and breathe”, Jake states. “Hangman”, Bradley spits back. Now it made sense this was the guy that Bradley had warned you about. “Bradley it’s okay I only have two more shots to sink to win”, you told him. You grabbed your pool stick and lined up your shot and sank it without problem. The last one you had to sink and you looked up to see Bradley gripping his beer bottle so tightly his knuckles were turning white.

Then you looked at Jake seeing him smirking at Bradley before saying, “Ya know I was wondering if inviting her to my house for dinner would be a good first date. I make a damn good steak”. Bradley looked like he could punch him any moment so you took your shot making them both whip their heads to the table. The last ball smacked the side and right into the corner pocket. “Alright Hangman pay up”, you smirked.

His smile stayed on his face as he pulled a hundred out of his wallet handing it over to you. “I was expecting you to choke”, he said. “I bet you thought I’d be choking on you after the imaginary date too huh”, you laughed. Nat’s eyes widened and she tried to contain her laughter as Jake’s smile faltered a little. He couldn’t respond. You had actually left him speechless and the image burned itself into his brain as the others started to dog him and make jokes at his expense.

Jake watched as you high fived Rooster and finished your drink. He watched as you made your way back to the bar to order another drink. On your way back a guy cut you off from continuing to the rest of the group. You obviously turned him down as he watched this man call you a bitch. You said something back as you walked around the man and he started to get up to intervene. The nerve of this guy that had just asked you if you would like to go back to his place for some fun; then got angry and called you a bitch when you refused.

He grabbed your arm and spun you around making you spill your drink. The man was obviously drunk and you were now pissed that your drink was all over the floor. “Look I’m not going to go home with you asshole. Now let me go ya’ fucker”, you seethed. “I don’t think you know who I am bitch”, he stated, and that's when his hand came up and slapped you. It stung and knocked you back a couple steps as your brain registered what happened. You had long dropped your drink and balled your hand into a fist and let it fly.

It hit the man right in his nose as blood gushed from it. “You whore”, the man spit. He was about to charge at you when two people got in between the fight. The first you noticed was Bradley and the other was Jake. “You need to apologize and get the fuck out of this bar”, Jake said. “I’m not apologizing to that whore”, the man responded. The bell rang out as everyone started shouting overboard. You had no clue what was happening.

Rooster and Hangman nodded to each other and grabbed the guy by the arms as Payback came over to grab the man's legs. They carried him to the back deck and threw him out onto the sandy beach. “If you come back you mess with all of us”, Hangman shouted. All of the people in the bar shouted in agreement as Penny and Pete were checking you over. “Your cheek is already swelling”, Penny said as she went to get a bag of ice.

While you were waiting on Penny, Pete helped you onto a bar stool looking at the red hand print on your cheek. “Are you alright, darlin?”, Jake asked as he came up to you and Pete. “Yeah nothing I ain’t used to”, you respond. Jake smiles but you can tell it doesn’t meet his eyes. “I’m fine I swear’, you state. When Penny gets back with a bag of ice wrapped in a small hand towel you thank her and ask for another drink. Jake watches as Penny makes your drink and he smiles genuinely then.

“Should have known you would like a strong drink”, Jake says. Bradley finally makes his way to you to make sure you are okay. “We should go after you're finished with that drink”, Bradley states. “Oh come on it was a slap not a punch”, you huffed. “Yeah and how long were you on the road for before you got here?”, Bradley questioned. “Look I slept in my truck till noon and hit the road then. I got a full eight hour sleep. I am not leaving yet”, you replied stubbornly. “You slept in your truck?! Do you know how dangerous that is?!”, Bradley shouted.

“Hey ease up Rooster she obviously can handle herself”, Jake jumped in. “Stay out of this Hangman”, Roster seethed. “Look, I'm a big girl and can make my own decisions. I’m not your girl and I swear if you say we need to go I’ll just get a ride from Jake here. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind”, you stated. That seemed to have Rooster backing down as Jake grinned. “I wouldn’t mind taking you anywhere you needed to go darlin”, he replied.

“No he will not”, Bradley huffed. “Then it looks like we’re staying a little longer”, you said. You grabbed your drink and made your way back to Roosters friends who had once again taken over the pool table. “She’s a pistol”, Jake said aloud. “You don’t know the half of it. Do me a favor and stay away from her. She doesn’t need anymore heartbreak than she's already had”, Rooster grumbled. “Not making any promises”, Jake responded.

You watched as Bradley and Jake spoke to each other then started making their way to the pool table. “Rooster, how about you take my spot!”, Fanboy yelled. Rooster agreed, taking Fanboy’s spot and now that he was distracted you made your way out to the deck of the bar. The smell of the ocean and the slight breeze helped you to relax. Jake came to stand beside you leaning over the rail. “So you and Rooster huh?”, he inquired.

“No nothing like that. He sees me more as a sister”, you replied. “So what really brings you out here?”, he pried. “I thought Rooster would have told you all, but I was being stalked by an ex boyfriend and when I told Roo he told me to come out here”, you explained. “My sister dealt with an ex boyfriend like that, but in Texas we take care of our own. Why didn’t you go stay with your family?”, he asked.

“I would if there were any alive to talk to. The only family I have is a brother and he doesn’t want to have anything to do with me”, you explained. “Damn well if you ever need the dagger squad we’ll be there for ya’ unless we are out on missions”, Jake responds. “Thanks”, you responded. “If I would have won would you have gone on a date with me?”, he questions. “See we were having a nice conversation and you ruined it”, you laughed.

Jake frowned until you looked him in the eyes and said, “I would have if you had won”. His smile returned as you finished the rest of your drink, and dismissed yourself back to the pool table where Bradley had just finished up. Jake couldn’t help but watch as you walked out the door with Rooster thinking of how to get you to go out with him.

#top gun maverick #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #bradley rooster bradshaw #dagger squad #pete maverick mitchell #penny benjamin

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 9 months ago

Text

Clandestine. Part Four.

Part One. Part Two. Part Three.

Chapter Synopsis - Death puts everything into perspective.

Pairing - Stewy Hosseini x Female Roy!Reader

Warnings - cursing. lots of talk about grief.

Word Count - 3k

Author’s Note - now I might just be the last person on tumblr still writing for stewy, but I am determined to finish this series. let’s ignore the fact it’s been a year since I updated it, shall we? one more part of this to go!! thank you, if you’re still here for my succession stuff <3

Series Masterlist. Main Masterlist. Inbox.

You’re floating around in a daze.

It’s been a week since Connor’s phone call. A week since the formidable Logan Roy died on the floor of his private plane, surrounded by his closest employees. A week since you’ve seen Stewy.

You’ve been crashing in Roman’s guest room, neither of you wanting to be alone. You go to your Dad’s apartment, have meetings with old white men that all look the same, pop into the office every now and again and go home to your brothers. You were barely speaking to Kendall before all of this happening, never mind now. You can’t remember the last time the two of you said more than three words to each other.

You’re sat at Roman’s dinner table when a strange feeling settles in the pit of your stomach. You watch him picking at his salad for a minute before you say anything.

“Have you… spoke to Kendall? Like, over the last few days?”

Roman looks confused by the question, but doesn’t voice it.

“Yeah, here and there. You guys are in a fight, right?”

“Uh, yeah. We were. I guess we still are. I’m just… worried about him. God knows his mental health has been in the gutter recently anyway, but now Dad’s dead, and… I don’t know. It just can’t end well, right?”

“All we can do is keep an eye on him, I guess. He won’t fucking accept it even if we try and help, so.”

“Yeah.”

You move the chicken around on your plate with your fork, neither of you having much of an appetite recently.

“So, you never told me what your fight was about. It all seems like this big ass fucking secret that only Roman doesn’t know about.”

You’re a little taken aback by Romans candour. Usually he’s pretty avoidant, happy to live with the not knowing. He’s done with that, apparently.

“You’re not the only one that doesn’t know, Rome. Ken is the only one that does.”

“Why?”

“Yeah, why? Why does everyone include Kendall in everything and leave me on the fucking sidelines? Why am I always the one who doesn’t get the joke, who doesn’t know the secret?”

“Rome-”

“I know he’s your favourite, but Jesus. You could at least try and include me sometimes.”

“Roman.”

“What?”

“Kendall only ‘knows the secret’ because he… walked in on the secret. Not because I sought him out and told him, or anything like that. I promise.”

“The fuck are you talking about?”

With what has happened over the past week, your perspective on almost everything has changed. Keeping your secret is no longer top priority - or priority at all. You’re realising that you don’t care, because it doesn’t matter. Not much really matters.

“I’m in love with Stewy.”

Roman’s silent for a moment, processing.

“Hosseini?”

You can’t help but laugh.

“Yeah, Rome. Hosseini. Do you know any other Stewys?”

He shakes his head, still visibly confused.

“Are you gonna tell him?”

“Tell him what?”

“That you’re in love with him.”

“Oh. Oh. Yeah, um… he already knows. We - we’re in love. With each other. We’re dating.”

“You’re dating him?”

“That’s crazier than me being in love with him one sided?”

“Uh, yeah.”

You chuckle, looking at him for a moment before a grin breaks out across his face. He’s always been the most easy going of your brothers, the most understanding. You’ve always felt a comfort in talking to Roman - he’s more open minded than he appears. He’s a surprisingly good listener, even when you think your problems are trivial or stupid.

“For how long?”

“Fuck, I don’t even know. Two years, give or take?”

“Two years?”

“Are you mad?”

“Mad? I’m mad impressed, Princess. I didn’t think you’d be able to keep a big secret like that from me for that long.”

“So you don’t hate me?”

You’re suddenly vulnerable, terrified that your big brother is going to think less of you. Your brothers are all you have, all you’ve ever had. The four of you learned to survive with each other, with no help from parents or nannies or any kind of adult. You have nothing if you don’t have your brothers.

“I don’t hate you, dummy. I could never hate you.”

You stand up and make your way over to him, perching on his leg like you used to when you were kids. You wrap your arms around his neck, exhaling when he wraps his around your middle.

“Love you, Rome,” you whisper. “Even if you are a pain in my ass.”

“Yeah, love you too,” he murmurs. “Even if you do keep important secrets from me.”

“I promise I won’t keep anything from you ever again.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Promise. No more secrets.”

You pull back but stay sat on his lap, feeling six years old again, taking solace in the presence of your big brother.

“So Kendall… walked in on you?”

“He saw us leaving the gala together and got suspicious. He showed up at Stewy’s apartment the next morning, banging on the door and asking where I was.”

“Oh shit,” he laughs.

“It’s not funny,” you retort, but you’re holding back your giggles as you do it.

“And I’m guessing he didn’t take it well.”

“Not at all. He was cycling between yelling and swearing and then sitting really quietly just… staring into space. Then he got personal, which was expected, but that pissed Stewy off, so the whole thing got awkward again. It was… horrendous.”

“He’s horrible at feelings.”

“Says Mr Communication over here.”

He shoves you off his lap, chuckling when you slide onto the floor. You punch him in the arm as you get up, returning to your original seat. You sit in silence for a moment, neither of you quite sure how to continue.

“What now?”

“I… don’t know, Rome. I just don’t know.”

“I mean, the world hasn’t stopped spinning. Maybe it feels like it has for us, but everyone else has carried on.”

You’re confused by your brother’s sudden wisdom, until it clicks for you.

He’s free.

Sure, he’s grieving. You all are. But he’s lighter. Laughs a little easier. Gives out advice quicker.

He’s free.

You all are.

The shackles your father had placed on all four of you are broken. You are no longer bound to him or Waystar or his insane ideals as to what family should be or do or say.

“I need to get out.”

“What?” Roman asks as he cocks his head, quirking a brow at you in curiosity.

“I don’t want to be a part of this anymore. This… constant cycle of destruction and deception and stabbing people in the back. It won’t stop now that Dad’s dead. It’s the very foundation that his business is built on.”

“So you’re gonna… leave?”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m gonna do. I’m gonna sell my shares and I’m gonna get the fuck out.”

Roman laughs, now, all big and bold and beautiful. You don’t know what’s funny, but you can’t help but laugh with him.

“I am too.”

“Wait… what?”

“I’m doing the same.”

“Roman.”

“I’m serious. I don’t know who CEO is gonna be, but it isn’t gonna be me. It’ll be Kendall or Tom or someone completely different, but we all know neither you or I are capable.”

“Jeez. Thanks.”

“You’re telling me you could run the entire Waystar business?”

You roll your eyes, kicking him under the table.

“Obviously I fucking couldn’t. But at least pretend to have a little bit more faith in me.”

Your brother chuckles, leaning back in his chair.

“We’re not built for it, you and me. We’re meant for something different. Something better, Princess.”

You nod, chewing on your bottom lip.

“What about Kendall?”

“What about him?”

“I feel like we’re… abandoning him.”

Rome looks solemn, suddenly, thinking about your older brother.

“He’ll come around, you know. And he’ll understand. That’s the thing about Kendall - he can’t hold a grudge to save his life. He tries, but he can’t.”

A tear rolls down your cheek, lump in your throat choking any words that try to escape.

“Hey, hey,” Roman soothes as he walks over, standing above you.

He swipes his thumb across your cheekbone, wiping away your sadness.

“He loves you more than anything, you know.”

You shake your head, so your brother doubles down.

“He does. You’ve always been his favourite. He’d do anything for you - anything at all. He’s mad because you and Stewy kept a secret from him, not because you’re together. Trust me.”

“He looked at me that day like he hated me.”

“He couldn’t hate you if he tried. He’s just… emotionally unavailable. Everyone knows this.”

“I miss him,” you whisper, lip trembling. “I miss my brother.”

You’re taken aback by how much you miss Kendall, suddenly. You miss him so much more than you miss Logan, or your Mom.

“Give him time. That’s all he needs. He misses you, I know he does. But you know what he’s like when he feels betrayed. He shuts down and gets all aggressive.”

You look up at Roman, gentle smile making its way onto your face.

“When did you get so smart, huh?”

“I’ve always been smart,” he laughs. “Everyone underestimates me.”

“That they do.”

“Well, not anymore. We’re getting out.”

“We’re getting out,” you repeat, finally allowing yourself to feel happiness at the prospect. “We’re gonna get the fuck out.”

“Talk to Stewy about selling your shares and let me know what he says. The sooner, the better.”

“I will. I’m excited, Rome. The world is our oyster.”

“Me too,” he chuckles, ruffling your hair. “We’ll go to the funeral, and then we’ll never have to see any of those assholes ever again.”

“I can’t wait to not have to look at Karl’s stupid fucking face every day.”

Roman keels over laughing, wheezing as he clutches his stomach. You’re crying with laughter too, both of you lighter and freer than you’ve ever been.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

“You sure about this, Rome?”

“One hundred percent.”

You hug him tightly as you say goodbye, smiling when he presses a kiss into your hair.

“I’ll let you know what Stewy says tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay. See you tomorrow, Princess. Call me if you need anything.”

“You too. Anything.”

He ruffles your hair before sending you on your way, waiting at the front door to watch you go.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

“Stewy? You home?”

You drop your bags by the front door, kicking off your shoes and jacket as you do it. You’re about to yell again when he comes running around the corner, sliding across the wood floors in his socks.

“Baby.”

He breathes it, as if he can’t believe you’re really standing in front of him again.

“Missed you, Hosseini.”

You fly into his arms, burying yourself as deep as you can in his chest. His old, worn t shirt is soft and grey and smells like the love of your life and all of his memories spent at home. He tightens his grip on you, pulling you impossibly closer.

“How are you?” he asks without letting go, resting his chin on the top of your head.

“I’m okay. I’m good, actually. Really good.”

“Yeah?”

Now he pulls away to look at you, confused by the sudden change of heart. When you left to go to Roman’s a week ago, you were a shell of a woman, a little girl without a dad. Now, you’re back, brighter and more alive than ever.

“Yeah.”

You look at him, really look at him, for a moment, before taking a deep breath and saying the words you’ve been dying to say.

“Marry me, Stewy.”

He staggers back as if you’ve hit him, eyes blown wide.

“W-what?”

“Marry me.”

He inhales, exhaling shakily before stepping forward to cradle your face in his hands.

“Aren’t I supposed to be asking you that?”

“Maybe,” you laugh. “But I guess I got there first.”

“Honey, forgive me if I’m a little confused, but… you just came back after being gone for a week because your dad died and now you’re… proposing?”

“Me and Roman are leaving Waystar,” you explain. “We’re selling our shares and getting the fuck out.”

“Shit. Really?”

“Really. The only thing stopping me from leaving years ago was the fear of disappointing my dad, and now he’s gone. So… there’s nothing keeping me there. I wanna do something else. Something for me.”

“Yeah?”

He’s grinning, beaming at you from ear to ear. Light is practically pouring from him, radiating in all directions.

“Yeah,” you half yell, leaning up to press an excited kiss to his lips. “I’m done, Stewy. I’m free.”

He picks you up, wrapping his arms around you as the two of you spin. You shriek with laughter, the world blurring as it whizzes past you. Eventually he puts you down, both of you breathless.

“Life’s too short. I need to start living it.”

“I’m so proud of you,” he whispers, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you so much. More than anything.”

You kiss him tenderly, gentle and sweet and filled with so much adoration.

“So, back to my original question…”

“Wait,” he interrupts, halting your speech. “Let me do this the right way.”

With that, he runs off towards the bedroom, leaving you stood in the hallway as confused as ever. You wait patiently, desperate to be privy to his plans.

When he returns, still in his pyjamas, he kisses you softly before getting down on one knee, ring box in his hand.

“Honey. You are the love of my goddamn life. I bought this ring after we’d been dating for… three months? Call me crazy, but I knew. I just knew. It was always going to be me and you. Always.”

Your hands are shaking, breath caught in your chest as you try to soak in every second of this moment.

“So…. how do you feel about becoming Mrs Hosseini?”

“I can’t think of anything I’d love more.”

“Is that a yes?”

“The biggest, most sure yes of my entire life. Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you. Yes.”

He swoops you up into his arms, kissing you with more passion than you ever thought possible. You slip your tongue into his mouth cheekily, tangling your fingers into his hair to pull him closer as he groans.

You finally pull away for air, both of you panting like you’ve just run a marathon. Your eyes well up suddenly, a tear falling without you realising.

“You okay?” he murmurs, thumbs rubbing circles into your cheekbones.

“I’m so happy,” you whisper. “I feel like today is the first day of the rest of my life.”

“So do I,” he agrees, looking down at you with so much love you it makes your knees buckle. “Baby… if you’re getting out, then I’m getting out.”

“Wait, what?”

“If you want to get out of Waystar, I’m not gonna stay. If you’re washing your hands of it, then I am too.”

“But… your money.”

“Honey, those shares don’t mean shit to me. The only thing that matters is you.”

You look at him intently for a moment, searching for any traces of doubt. All you find is pure adoration.

“Stewy?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you gonna keep that ring in the box forever?”

He throws his head back as he laughs, opening the velvet box to show you what’s inside. He slips it onto your finger with ease, the diamond sparkling perfectly on your hand.

“It’s so beautiful. I’m the luckiest person in the world, Mr Hosseini.”

“I think I have to disagree with you there, Mrs Hosseini.”

“Say it again.”

“Mrs Hosseini.”

“And again.”

He kisses you, mumbling against your lips.

“Mrs Hosseini.”

“Mhmm.”

“My wife. The prettiest girl in the world. Mrs Hosseini.”

You can’t help but grin into his mouth, buzzing with the energy of it all.

“Now, I was about to make dinner before you came home, but we can go out and celebrate if you want?”

You shake your head, snaking your arms around his neck.

“All I want right now is a night in with you - that’s all the celebration I need. Let’s make that pasta you like, and then we can watch old sitcom reruns on the couch.”

“Sounds perfect.”

Stewy slides his hand into yours, his thumb playing with the shiny band of the ring on your finger.

“It’s gonna be like this forever, you know. We get to do this for the rest of our lives.”

“It’s all I’ve ever wanted,” you breathe, resting your head on his shoulder as you make your way to the kitchen. “You’re all I’ve ever wanted.”

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

As the sun sets through the floor to ceiling windows, you and Stewy dance across the kitchen, slipping and sliding across the tiles.

Your heart skips a beat every time your ring catches the light.

Your heart skips a beat every time you look at your fiancé.

Your heart skips a beat every time you realise that you’re not dreaming.

This is your life. And you’ve never been more excited to live it.

@justacaliforniandreamer @616wilsons @shawty-writes-a-little @isuspectitwasthenargles @thinemineours @buckysbae @jolie989 @allcheesemelts @nosebeers

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chanelgrll · 13 days ago

Note

Thank you for answering my question about the boundaries!! I don’t think this is crossing any that you listed, but ofc feel free to just ignore if this isn’t something you would be interested in writing 💕

Could you write Ronin and Reader who is squeamish/scares easily having a horror movie date?? I personally think he would eat it up, especially if Reader isn’t actually phased by him being a real life serial killer, but falls for every cheap movie scare lol.

HCs or FF format, up to you. Thank you!

A/N: ofc!!! also sorry guys for the slow pace unis been kicking my ass </3 I'll be uploading more once I'm done the next wave of exams BUTTTT here's a fic of this lovely ask

Eek a rat!!

You weren’t scared of Ronin.

Not when you saw the crowbar tucked into his case, or the stains of blood splattered on his skin. Not even when you opened your freezer once and saw something inside you absolutely should have screamed over, but just quietly shut the door again and made a mental note to stop storing your ice cream in there.

No. You didn’t flinch around the real stuff. But jump scares? Something with dramatic violin stings and predictable jump scares and actors making impossibly bad decisions in the dark? You turned into a human heart attack. Which is exactly why Ronin looked like he’d just been handed Christmas on a bloodstained silver platter when you suggested a horror movie night (It was Terrifier 3.)

“You sure about this?” he asked, already queuing up the the tape. You gave him a half-hearted shrug, trying to act casual despite the tight grip you already had on the throw blanket.

“Yeah, I mean—it’s fake. I can handle fake.”

Ronin snorted. “Oh really, must I recall how loud you screamed the last time we went to watch something, baby?”

“That was a very loud clown,” you muttered.

He leaned over, brushing his lips against your temple. “Mmhm. We’ll see.”

Fifteen minutes in, your legs were pulled up to your chest, blanket cocooned around you like a human burrito. Ronin hadn’t even blinked. “Don’t go in there, don’t go in there, don’t—idiot!” you hissed at the screen.

Ronin looked delighted. “You know it’s her house, right?”

“She saw the door open by itself, and she’s going down the stairs in socks. This woman has a death wish.”

“Technically I do that all the time.”

You turned to look at him with wide eyes. “Yeah, and I yell at you too.”

He raised his brows, mock-surprised. “Oh, my bad. Next time I’ll wait for permission before chasing someone into a basement.”

You elbowed him weakly, and he caught your arm, grinning as he dragged you into his lap like it was the most casual thing in the world. “Don’t worry,” he said, chin on your shoulder. “If anyone breaks in, I’ll go check the noise. Real slow. Shirtless. With no weapon.”

“Ronin.”

“What?”

You stared. “You’re so stupid"

The next jump scare hit while you were mid-sip of your drink, and you nearly launched the can across the room. Ronin actually paused the movie, laughing so hard he nearly fell backward off the couch.

“I hate you,” you muttered, face flushed.

“You love me,” he corrected, tugging you back against him like a smug little furnace.

Your heart was still hammering. “Why do people even watch these? You’re not even scared! You haven’t blinked in, like, twenty minutes!”

“Because I think it’s hilarious,” he said, nosing into your neck. “Also you get very clingy when you're scared. And I like it.”

You smacked his thigh. “You’re awful.”

He beamed. “I know.”

Eventually, the movie got dumber. The characters started splitting up. The acting got worse. You even started laughing a little, burying your face into Ronin’s hoodie every time the villain popped out in bad prosthetics or the fake blood looked like cherry syrup.

“You’re doing better,” Ronin murmured against your hair.

“Mm,” you mumbled. “Not so bad when I’ve got a real killer next to me.”

His hand stilled on your hip. “You say that like it’s comforting.”

You tilted your head, lips brushing his jaw. “It is".

He looked down at you and you ruffled his hair before turning back to the screen. But you shrieked like a banshee when a rat jumped out onscreen, and he lost it all over again. “Alright,” he said later, shutting off the TV and rubbing his eyes from laughing. “That’s enough emotional trauma for one night.”

You sagged against his chest. “I have never hated you more.”

“You say that,” he said, trailing his fingers up your arm, “but your heartbeat says otherwise.”

You groaned. “Ronin, if you’re about to try to make being scared hot—”

“Try?” he echoed, all mock offense. “Baby, I succeed.” You smacked him with a throw pillow and stayed curled up in his lap for another two hours anyway.

He grinned like it was love.

#kc #kc ronin #kc x reader #killer chat #killer chat fanfic #killer chat x reader #killer chat ronin #ronin beaufort #ronin x reader #ronin beaufort x reader

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moraishi · 2 months ago

Text

Sick

Roles: Sylus, Rude(?) Mc

Notes: i wrote it so long ago and i honestly hate this work, but i like the prompt of it so here my old draft :)

The message Sylus sent was hollow, maybe even dry. It sounded like he was typing it next to his death angel. Simple to anyone else but you know this man. He never write stuff like this.

“Not feeling great. Have some soup?”

The man who faces down the whole city and rules it with the most bored expression you’ve ever seen. Getting a message like that from him? Either a death trap or he’s craving soup delivered by your hands or something .

Not that it matters. You push open the heavy-ass door to his room and yep. there it is. Sick boy vibes punch you in the face from the hallway.

Now you’re stuck taking care of a city level threat in a room dark as sin, blackout curtains swallowing every inch of light, and a bed that looks like belong someone with money and trauma died dramatically on it. The room smells rich, expensive cologne mixed with that weird sick scent you can’t prove the existence of but in every sick person’s room. At least it’s clean. A bit dramatic, but clean…except for the bed.

Tissues are scattered around the coffee table. Half of the blanket is on floor. And there he is.

Your menace. Your problem. Your hot, sick boyfriend.

Half sitting and half melting into silk sheets, a blanket rolled down to his legs. His shirt barely clinging to his chest like even it gave up. He looks like a sad burrito… Actually, a burnt sad burrito. Cheeks and nose all flushed like blush applied by a drunk artist. And those crimson eyes? Oh yeah, he’s definitely sick.

It’s almost ironic. But mostly pathetic.

You smirked slightly while stepping closer to Sylus’s bed. “What’s with the face? They finally poisoned you?”

He tilts his head slow and extra like he rehearsed it. “It’s nothing,” he rasps, trying to shrug like it isn’t killing him. “Just a little cold.”

Right.

“It’s always just a little cold until you’re sweating through your mattress at 4 a.m.” You plop the grocery bag down and take a seat on the edge of Sylus’s bed. Inside the bag? The cliches. off brand meds, green tea, weird soup, and a pack of gum because he still deserves the basics.

“Didn’t know you make house calls, kitten,” he murmurs with a bit rough tone. He tosses the blanket off his legs a bit like he’s proving he is not that sick, which is not working. “Missed me that bad?”

“Missed you? Why should I, to take care of your sick ass? I don’t think so, Sy,” you said with sharpened eyes that might cut the air between you two like a knife.

And he? He just let out a soft laugh, a bit rough, sounded like he smoked cheap cigarettes every day but was still somehow usable.

His phone lifts weakly. “The texts say otherwise,” he smirks, waving it like a murder evidence. “You’re clingier in text than I am, kitten. Why don’t you show it in person too?”

You just rolled your eyes, clingy? You? Is he seeing the state he is in right now?. “Don’t flatter yourself, Sy.”

He tries to sit up straighter, tries to be that smooth talking, chaos running Sylus you know. But the man sways. You can see the fatigue weighing down his body. His eyes flicker tiredly, struggling to stay open. He’s fighting it. The weakness. The sickness… maybe the ego.

Honestly? It’s kind of cute. In a way that makes you want to bully him gently for the next six hours.

You pull out a dry ass medicine tablet and grab a bottle of water. Without warning, you press your knee to his stomach and shove the pill to his lips. “Open up, love.”

Expecting some kind of dirty remark, but no.

His eyes widened at first, but softened quickly. Parting his lips slowly and taking his bottle to drink the pill. After swallowing the pill, he looked into you with those tired and somehow cute eyes, your knee falling and rising so slowly on his stomach.

How does someone built like this suddenly feels so soft?

“So you’re serious about taking care of me, huh?”

And damn, that tone. Meant to be teasing, flirty but it lands genuine. Vulnerable in a way you’ve never heard from him. Not puppy eyed, just quietly… pathetic. In a lovable way.

Like he doesn’t rule the damn city.

“Don’t give me those eyes, you little- ugh, gross.” You shake your head, but you’re already sliding closer on the bed. “Or I’m breaking this mug over your head and letting the shards lull you to sleep.”

He rasps a chuckle and leans his forehead against yours.

“Sounds like you’re learning a lot from me.”

“Needy bastard,” you mumble. But your hand finds his anyway, like it has its own sick person radar.

And then he says it.. softly, the worst way possible.

“And yet you stay.”

That’s it. That’s your final straw.

You get inside his blanket and lean forward to him, putting your bag between your legs and grabbing his arm so there is no escape.

“Oh, I’ll take care of your sick ass. Since you’ve been tempting me all damn day.”

Sylus just grins. Half sick, half-devilish. His hand slides to your waist lazily.

“Thought you’d never ask.”

—

The next morning?

You regret everything.

The fever hits you like bitch. Your nose is basically just decorative at this point. Your skin’s clammy. Your soul left your body and called in sick too.

Your head’s on Sylus’s arm, using it as a pillow. Your legs are tangled between his, your face is pale and fade. and your voice? Gone.

“You infected me, you manipulative bastard…” you mumble while gripping the edge of the blanket tighter like it’s your last defense.

He just shrugs with that same weak smirk.

“At least now you won’t miss me.”

You make a mental note to stab him later. Right after this nap. Maybe. If your arms start working again.

For now, you both lie there… hot, sick, clingy.

Revenge can wait. Maybe after this nap.

#love and deepspace #lads sylus #love and deepspace sylus #sylus x mc #lads #sylus

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yuujispunches · 2 months ago

Text

The power of echoes and nostalgia ~ S.G

Pairing: Suguru Geto x Reader.

Summary: a high-school reunion can make old feelings and memories resurface, specially when you’re met with your former best friend and first love.

CW (content warning): modern!AU (no curses), Geto is still Geto, none of the bad stuff really happened, maybe some cursing and nothing much really this is mainly fluff and nostalgia.

AN: Hi guys! Thank you so much for all of your support, I love reading your comments and reblogs 🤍 A reminder that English isn’t my first language so I’m sorry if there are any mistakes. Hope you enjoy and let me know what you think! :)

Requests are open so feel free to send yours! (you can check the list of characters I write for on my pinned post)

Masterlist

You stared at the email for the third time that morning.

Subject: Jujutsu High Alumni Reunion - 10 Years Later

From: [email protected]

The school logo looked almost cartoonish now. In high school, it had felt iconic and unshakable. Now it just looked like someone with graphic design ambitions in Microsoft Word.

You hovered your mouse over the RSVP button. It had been ten years. Ten. You had stopped counting after the first four, and the distance from those years became easier to manage that way. Nostalgia was always dangerous territory, and you weren’t entirely convinced you were ready to revisit the part of your life that included stress dreams about Gojo throwing pencils at your head in chemistry class.

Still…

Shoko had included a little note at the end.

Y/N, you better come. I’ve already had to bribe Gojo with sushi to behave, and if I’m dealing with him alone, I swear I’ll fake my own death. -Shoko

You cracked a smile. She still knew you too well

Click.

——————————————————————————

The reunion was set at a moderately fancy venue in Tokyo, one of those “repurposed industrial spaces” that looked like an Instagram ad and charged too much for a glass of wine. The concrete pillars had fairy lights wrapped around them. It was kind of charming, in a try-hard kind of way.

You walked in, already spotting several familiar faces. Most had changed in subtle ways: softer features, more carefully maintained fashion, slightly hunched posture from a decade of adulting. Yet, it was comforting. The recognition came easily, like muscle memory.

“Y/N!”

You turned and caught sight of Shoko in a sleek black blazer, a glass of whiskey already in her hand.

“You came!” She grinned, sweeping you into a one-armed hug. “I knew the guilt-trip would work.”

You hugged her back, laughing. “You still use the same manipulation tactics. I see med school didn’t change you.”

“Why fix what works?” She replied with mock sincerity. “Come on. Let’s mingle. There are a lot of people here I can’t handle sober, so I need a buffer.”

You were barely halfway to the bar when a loud voice rang through the crowd.

“Y/N! My favorite chaos gremlin!” Another voice you recognised immediately.

Gojo Satoru. Still tall. Still smug. Still wearing sunglasses indoors like he was allergic to social norms.

He strode toward you, arms open like he’d just won a Nobel Prize.

“I see some things never change.” You said, accepting the hug.

“Oh please.” Gojo said, pulling back with a grin. “I’ve matured. Evolved. I even read a book this year.”

“Was it a manga?” Shoko asked flatly.

“You wound me.”

The three of you settled near a high table, laughter bubbling as the drinks arrived. You hadn’t realized how much you missed this. The weirdly dysfunctional balance of personalities that made your high school years oddly enjoyable. Gojo, for all his eccentricities, brought an energy that made everything chaotic in the best way. Shoko was the grounding force, dry and observant and always five steps ahead.

It wasn’t long before more familiar faces drifted over. Nanami, Utahime, Haibara, Mei Mei and even Yaga himself, now sporting glasses that made him look like an academic mob boss. The nostalgia hit full force as you exchanged stories and awkward “oh my god, remember when…” moments.

And yet, one face hadn’t appeared.

Suguru Geto.

You hadn’t dared to ask.

The last time you saw him was at graduation. You were close, closer than most at least, but after high school, life just… peeled you apart. It wasn’t an argument or falling out. It was a slow unraveling of texts left unanswered, calls not returned, and two people with growing silences between them.

You couldn’t explain why that hurt more than a fight would’ve.

And still, you thought about him sometimes. In the way people remember songs from their teenage years. Bittersweet and resonant. Like an echo.

You took a sip of wine and turned slightly, your eyes scanning the room again only to freeze.

He was here.

Suguru stood near the far end of the room, talking to Nanami and Utahime. His hair was still long, tied back into a neat bun. He was dressed neatly, if a little more casually than most. He looked, older. Wiser. But somehow still so painfully familiar.

As if sensing your stare, his eyes flicked toward you and you locked eyes. Your breath caught.

He looked surprised. And then he smiled. That same, quiet smile you remembered from countless late-night conversations in your dorm common room.

Shoko leaned in, her voice low. “You should go say hi.”

“What if it’s weird?” You muttered.

“It will be.” She said. “But also, cathartic. Go.”

——————————————————————————

You walked slowly, trying not to look as awkward as you felt. Suguru turned fully to face you, hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable but not unkind.

“Hey.” You said, halting a few steps in front of him.

“Hey.” He echoed. His voice hadn’t changed. Still warm, a little deep. “I was hoping you’d be here.”

You blinked. “Really?”

“Yeah.” He admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Kind of… didn’t know if you’d show. But here you are.”

You smiled nervously. “Here I am.”

A beat passed. Then, suddenly, you both laughed. And just like that it was like no time had passed at all.

“Do you want to get some air?” Suguru asked, tilting his head toward the terrace.

You nodded.

——————————————————————————

The terrace was quiet, away from the buzz of the reunion. A few potted plants and overhead lights made it feel more comfortable than expected.

For a while, you both stood there, leaning against the railing in companionable silence.

“You look good.” He said suddenly.

You turned your head toward him. “So do you.”

He smiled again, softer this time. “Ten years. That’s wild, huh?”

“Yeah. I feel like I just blinked.”

“Remember how we swore we’d be adults with our lives together by 25?”

You snorted. “I think we were high on vending machine snacks.”

He laughed. “Probably.”

A moment passed. There was a moment of silence, but not the awkward kind just a bit heavy with the weight of the time apart and the unsaid words hanging in there.

“Why’d we stop talking?” You asked quietly, the question slipping out before you could second-guess it.

Suguru’s expression shifted, his smile fading into something more thoughtful.

“I don’t know.” He said after a long pause. “I think… we both just got busy. I kept meaning to text. Then too much time passed. And I wasn’t sure if I should. Whether you’d want to hear from me.”

You looked down. “I thought the same thing.”

He nodded slowly. “I regretted it, you know. Letting it drift like that.”

You looked at him, your heart twisting in your chest. “Me too.”

Another silence. But this time, it wasn’t heavy. It was shared. Understood.

Suguru turned slightly, his arm brushing yours. “Do you want to… start over?”

You blinked. “Start over?”

“I don’t know.” He said, a little sheepish. “Rebuild. Reconnect. Or just… catch up properly.”

You gave him a slow smile. “I’d like that.”

“Cool.” He breathed out, visibly relieved. “Maybe… coffee next week? I know a place that still sells those criminally sweet matcha buns you used to like.”

You laughed, warmth spreading through your chest. “You remembered?”

He grinned. “I never forgot.”

——————————————————————————

One week later you met again.

The café was nestled in a quiet corner of Tokyo, one of those cozy spots that looked like it had been around forever, with hand-written chalk signs and mismatched chairs. You spotted Suguru already sitting by the window, a matcha bun and two drinks on the table.

He looked up as you entered, smiling immediately.

“You remembered.” You said, sliding into the seat across from him.

“Told you I didn’t forget.” He replied, nudging your cup toward you. “Still take it with soy milk?”

Your brows rose. “You seriously remember how I take my drink after ten years?”

He shrugged with mock arrogance. “I’m excellent at retaining the important things.”

You smiled, touched.

The next hour passed easily, not that it was that surprising really. Conversation flowed as if no time had passed. You updated each other on work, mutual friends, embarrassing adult milestones like taxes and failed IKEA furniture. Suguru talked about his job as a high school guidance counselor, which both amused and fascinated you.

“Wait- you give life advice to hormonal teenagers?” You teased.

“Hey!” He exclaimed, feigning offense. “I’m surprisingly good at it. I even made one kid cry in a good way. Personal best.”

You snorted into your latte. “This is incredible. I need a photo of you sitting backwards in a chair giving heartfelt advice like a cool uncle.”

“You joke, but I absolutely do the backwards-chair thing.” He said, deadpan.

The laughter faded into a more comfortable silence. You found yourself studying his face, his eyes crinkling when he smiled, the way his fingers absentmindedly tapped the cup. He felt familiar. He felt like home.

“Hey.” He said after a pause. “Want to do something dumb?”

You blinked. “Like?”

“Like...ditch our grown-up responsibilities for a few hours and go do something stupidly nostalgic.”

“Are you asking me to relive our teenage years with less stamina and worse joints?”

“Exactly.”

You grinned. “I’m in.”

——————————————————————————

First stop: the arcade.

You hadn’t stepped into one in years. The moment you walked in, you were assaulted with neon lights, electronic beeping, and the aggressive sound of buttons being mashed.

Suguru immediately dragged you to the air hockey table.

“You always cheated.” You accused.

“I played creatively.” He replied, grabbing a mallet.

It was like reliving a piece of your youth. Shouting, laughing, trash-talking over each slap of the puck. He won the first game. You dominated the second. Somewhere in between, a group of middle-schoolers started cheering for you both, though they rooted more for you after Suguru accidentally launched the puck across the room.

——————————————————————————

Second stop: purikura.

“I refuse to make a duck face.” He said firmly as you dragged him into the photo booth.

“You absolutely will.” You replied. “It’s tradition.”

The photos came out gloriously chaotic. One with you both making peace signs, one mid-laugh, one where Suguru looked halfway to a sneeze. You stuffed the strip in your bag with a grin.

Then came a walk through the old neighborhood, past the convenience store that sold cheap fried chicken, the playground you used to sneak into at night, the vending machine that Gojo once got his arm stuck in trying to “liberate a stuck soda.”

You ended up sitting on the swings, dusk falling around you, colors fading into soft hues.

Suguru looked over at you. “I’ve missed this.”

You swung gently, toes dragging in the dirt. “Me too.”

He turned toward you slightly. “You know, I thought about calling you so many times over the years.”

“Why didn’t you?”

He was quiet for a second. “Because I wasn’t sure if I had the right anymore.”

Your heart tightened.

“I always wondered if you moved on. If you forgot.”

You shook your head. “I never did.”

He stood up slowly, walking over to stand in front of you, hands in his coat pockets.

“I don’t want to wonder anymore.” He said. “I want to know. I want to see if there’s still something here.”

You stared up at him, heart pounding.

“There is.” You said softly. “There always was.”

And he smiled that soft, familiar smile and reached for your hand.

——————————————————————————

You didn’t exactly tell anyone about seeing Suguru again. Which meant, obviously, that Gojo found out in under 48 hours.

Your phone buzzed during work. New messages from Gojo:

[1 image attachment: A badly photoshopped image of you and Suguru in wedding attire]

Just wanted to say congrats on the engagement

I’ll be your flower girl 🥰

You shook your head as you typed the answer:

Gojo. We’ve literally had one coffee and a matcha bun.

Gojo’s reply came almost instantly:

The bun was a metaphor. For eternal love. Duh.

Later, Shoko sent a text that read simply:

You and Suguru, huh?

Don’t mess it up. He’s good for you.

Also Gojo is planning a karaoke date. RUN.

You groaned. “We need new friends.”

Suguru, reading over your shoulder, just chuckled. “No we don’t. We need less chatty ones.”

——————————————————————————

You and Suguru didn’t define it immediately.

There were more coffees. Walks. Movie nights where you fell asleep on his shoulder. Moments where your fingers brushed and didn’t move away. Comfortable silences and subtle smiles.

You learned the tiny ways he’d changed: he liked herbal tea now, had gotten into gardening during lockdown, and hated how slow his metabolism had become. He learned you’d taken up watercolor painting, developed a small addiction to podcasts, and still hated parallel parking.

Then came the first kiss.

It wasn’t grand or dramatic. It happened one night after dinner, when you both stood outside your apartment door, neither quite wanting the night to end.

He leaned in, hesitated. You leaned the rest of the way. It was soft. Familiar. And just a little shaky with nerves.

When you pulled back, you were smiling.

“So…” You whispered.

“So…” He echoed, his smile matching yours. “Does this mean that we’re finally doing this?”

“Yeah. We are.”

And then his lips met your

And then his lips met yours once again, soft but firmer this time from all the years of longing finally being out in the open.

——————————————————————————

Six months later, the group had a second reunion. It wasn’t official, just Gojo’s idea of a “campfire-style barbecue” that somehow included a bubble machine, sparklers, and a playlist labeled '00s Hits, Regret Nothing.

You sat next to Suguru on a picnic blanket, his arm draped lazily over your shoulder as you shared grilled corn and stole bites from his plate.

Shoko was seated nearby, nursing a beer and watching Gojo attempt to roast marshmallows with a hair dryer.

“You two are gross.” She commented, nodding at you and Suguru.

“Love you too, Shoko.” You replied sweetly, leaning against Suguru just to spite her.

Utahime wandered over. “Suguru, you ever imagine you’d end up with Y/N back in high school?”

He looked at you, smiling softly.

“Every day.” He said.

You choked on your soda.

Gojo, from the fire pit, let out a dramatic gasp. “I KNEW IT! I knew there was chemistry! I was right! I was right and no one believed me!”

Suguru rolled his eyes. “You once said I had chemistry with a vending machine.”

“It was a good-looking vending machine.” Gojo muttered.

Everyone laughed and for a moment, surrounded by old friends, with Suguru’s hand holding yours and the stars above, it felt like something had come full circle.

Not a perfect loop. But something better.

A new beginning.

Tags: @hawkwithsocks @noooo-onee @pickledsoda

Taglist is open so let me know if you want to be added for future works! :)

#jjk #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk fluff #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #suguru x y/n #suguru geto #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto fluff #geto suguru #geto x reader #geto fluff #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru fluff #jjk au #jjk suguru

78 notes · View notes

yutahoes · 4 months ago

Text

Small World

I might post this here so I can have the energy needed to finish (or even continue) this fic.

characters: single dad! soccer coach! widower! Yuta x female! single mom! fashion designer! divorcee! Y/N (with son! Jung Sungchan, son! Shotaro Osaki, daughter! Sachiko Osaki (OC), daughter! Sakura Nakamoto (OC) word count: 6k words genre: probably chaptered, fluff summary: Who says one cannot fall in love once again? warnings: single parents au, period talk, maybe aegist and sexist comments here and there, minor character death, sexual harassment, a little mutual pining, aged up and aged down characters

This is just a little fic that has been sitting in my drafts since 2022. Heavily inspired by the movie Blended and the Heart over Height NCT Show Content. I don't know if I'll ever write again, but the concept is very close to my heart, that I don't want to waste the story. If anyone reads this, please let me know what you think. Should I continue this or not?

Heavy flow. Regular flow. With wings. Without wings. Sanitary Napkins. Tampons. Pantyliner. Why are there so many choices?

Yuta groaned in annoyance. What does Sachi use? Why didn't she stock up on these things when they did their groceries? Why does she have to get her period tonight? But he should be relieved, right?

At least his daughter isn't pregnant.

He sighed in obvious distress, too loud that the woman beside him just glanced at him cautiously. He lightly apologized, bowing his head in embarrassment. What is he doing in front of feminine products? And why can’t he make up his mind?

A sigh disturbed his thoughts. His gaze fell on the woman beside him, who was looking at the magazines while sighing. Yuta groaned at the same time as the woman, which surprised them both. "Do you need help?" they asked simultaneously before lightly stopping when they realized they had said the exact phrase.

The woman smiled, stepping to the side where the feminine care products were. "First day period?" Yuta nodded as she reached for the heavy-flow pads in front of him. "She's still using pads, right?"

Yuta hissed before shaking his head, "I'm not sure. Her brother usually does this for her, but he's in camp." He blurted out, then realised he might have been giving too much information. "But she's eighteen. I hope that helps."

"Yeah, here." She handed the package of heavy-flow sanitary pads with wings. “You should also prepare a hot compress since she'll be aching all over."

"I'll remember that," Yuta said with a smile, taking a mental note of what she said. “How about you?" Yuta glanced at the object beside the feminine care products and was confused at how the items in this convenience store were placed. "Magazine?"

She looked embarrassed at first but then sighed. "I accidentally ripped my son's magazine." She then showed him a piece of ripped glossy paper. "In my defense, I'm surprised he's reading this stuff." Oh, Yuta nodded his head, he gets it now.

"How old is he?" He asked, taking the ripped paper and feeling it using his fingertips.

"Eighteen." The same age as his twins? No way, she looks too young to be a mother of an eighteen-year-old. "They're already growing up, aren't they?"

They are. He thought it would be easier. But the generation is entirely different.

Yuta handed her a men’s magazine, the same magazine from which the piece of ripped paper came. "This still has fewer nude pictures compared to the others. He's still fine." The girl giggled, taking the magazine before thanking him.

Once lined up for the counter, Yuta realized how awkward this was. He was carrying a sanitary napkin while she was carrying a men's magazine. The woman might have felt uncomfortable, so she suggested switching items before the teller rang their items. Once outside, they immediately changed the plastic bag and paid the other what they owed. "Do you live near here?" Yuta started, and that made the girl stop in her tracks. Wait, that was weird to ask a married woman. "I mean, it's dangerous to be walking this late."

She smiled. "My car is parked there." She pointed at a black Toyota, which surprised Yuta. She must be wealthy. "Do you want me to give you a ride?" she asked while locating her keys inside her purse.

Yuta shook his head, claiming that he lived nearby. "By the way, I'm Yuta Nakamoto. We just moved here from Japan."

"I'm Y/N Y/L/N. Welcome to the neighborhood, Yuta." She introduced, shaking his hand.

Her hands were so soft. So delicate. She is gorgeous and smiles a lot. Her voice sounded so melodious, and her perfume smelled good. Is this how deprived he is of a female? But God damn it, she's a married woman with an eighteen-year-old son. Why is he fantasizing about her all of a sudden? This is weird.

"You look so happy, Dad," Sachiko, his eighteen-year-old daughter, commented while checking the sanitary pads he had bought for her.

Yuta shook his head, laughing at himself. “The convenience store here is just so funny.” The younger one gave him a weird gaze and nodded. A sigh escaped his lips as Sachi was out of sight. Why was he so ecstatic meeting an attractive married woman in the convenience store? He might be crazy.

—-

"Mom, I'm back!" Sungchan shouted as he entered the door of their house. He put down his duffel bag before instructing his friend to sit on the sofa. "Mom, are you home?" He could hear shuffling from the second floor, and Sungchan smiled. She is home.

The younger guy smiled when the older woman appeared from the mezzanine floor. "Channie!" She quickly ran downstairs, holding her heeled shoes in one hand and her handbag in the other. The taller guy wrapped his arms around his mom for a hug. "Why didn't you call to tell me you're coming back?" she asked while ruffling his hair. “You look thin. Is your dad not feeding you well, my Channie?"

He gave a nervous laugh before gesturing for his friend. "Mom, this is Shotaro Osaki. We met at camp." The younger Japanese guy stood up and greeted the older lady before she looked at her son in confusion, "What camp?"

"Summer camp," Sungchan claimed as a matter of fact. "Dad is on a cruise with his girlfriend so he sent me to summer camp. He said you knew."

"That fucking bastard," she whispered, then lightly glanced at Shotaro, who looked surprised. "Sorry.” The older woman whispered while smiling at their guest before turning to her son again, “But I'm glad you're alright, and you met a new friend."

The younger boy smiled at his friend. "Can Shotaro stay for the night?” The older one nodded, putting on her earrings. “Are you going out?" he asked, then glanced at his mom's black dress. "A date?"

She shook her head, then sat on the couch adjacent to where Shotaro was seated to put on her heels. "I'm meeting a client," she claimed, then took out her wallet and gave Sungchan some cash. "Just order food if you want. I'm not sure what time I'll be home." She then glanced at Shotaro, smiling. "And please, feel at home, Shotaro. We have a vacant room upstairs. Just ask Sungchan where it is."

The younger nodded, whispering a 'Yes, Mrs. Jung,' which made her laugh awkwardly. Y/N had to remind Sungchan of things, like putting his clothes in the laundry area so she could wash them tomorrow and closing the TV once they're done with video games. She laughed again when Shotaro bid farewell, mentioning Mrs. Jung when she went out the door. "Mom hates being called that."

"Your mom is hot," Shotaro exclaimed, making his friend look at him in surprise. "I mean, is she really your mom?"

"Sadly, yes, " the taller one claimed while starting the video game. “She was only sixteen when she gave birth to me." Shotaro was surprised. She was so young. If his twin sister got married and gave birth at that age, their dad would probably throw a fit. Luckily, she's past that. "Do you like my mom?"

"What?" Shotaro exclaimed, eyes wide. "No. That's weird." His friend gave him a teasing smile. "It must be nice to still have both your mom and dad."

Sungchan shrugged. He is luckier than some kids, but he wishes his parents would be together like other teenagers’ parents his age. Whenever his mom and dad are in the same room, it’s as if they don’t know each other. It's not like they never fell in love. And that is why he is scared to pursue what he calls love. “You still have your mom and dad, right?" he asked while pushing the joystick buttons in the game he and Shotaro were playing. "The ones who came to camp."

The Japanese guy giggled and shook his head. "They are my grandparents," he claimed, almost defeating Sungchan in the game. “My mom died when I was eleven, and my dad is busy with his work."

"Oh," Sungchan claimed. That's why Shotaro said that statement. Come to think of it, he is indeed luckier than most teenagers his age. "Are you an only child?"

Shotaro shook his head, claiming he has two sisters: a twin and a younger one. Sungchan stopped. A twin sister? "Do you want me to introduce you to Sachi?"

The other guy laughed, shaking his head. "I'll just imagine you with long hair. That would be weird, Sho." The Japanese guy chuckled, laughter echoing through the whole house.

Shotaro has a nice laugh. And he’s the first same-aged friend he had who doesn’t want to bang his mom. Hopefully, Shotaro would be his friend in the long run.

—-

Y/N was nervously seated inside a posh restaurant while waiting for her client. A politician and his wife are celebrating their sixty years together and throwing a small wedding party. The older woman was a darling when she came into Y/N’s boutique to check her designs, even claiming she fell in love at first sight with a blue sequined gown from her collections. A dress that she even tailored for the high-paying client. And now, she can't wait to show the older woman her upgraded design. After all her sleepless nights to finish this design, it all comes to the final pitch to the politician’s wife, so it must be perfect.

Her hands shook as she fixed the folder with her designs on the vacant chair beside her. “Hi, I’m your waiter for today, " she heard someone say before she whipped her head to where the person was standing. Her eyebrows scrunched at the familiarity. “Hi,” the guy smiled warmly before lightly chuckling, “Do you perhaps remember me?”

A giggle escaped her lips as the man she met at the convenience store poured water on her drinking glass. “Yuta? Am I right?” she muttered slowly, making him nod while smiling. “You work here?” He nodded, claiming that it was only for part-time work. He handed the menu before excusing himself when a table by his station asked for napkins.

Yuta was shaking his head, smiling to himself at the thought that he saw her again. How small is this neighbourhood for them to bump like this? She looked prettier than when he first saw her. Maybe she’s here for a date. A sigh escaped his lips. Why does it matter to him? She’s married. “I saw that,” Johnny, his co-waiter, claimed. He feigned innocence by asking what it was, but the taller guy just smiled, “You’re flirting with that hot girl on table ten.”

“I’m not,” Yuta claimed as a man entering the restaurant took their attention. He made a beeline to table ten, and the woman greeted him while standing up. Is that her husband? But he looked way older than her, with a balding head and a potbelly stomach. When she sat down, and the older man moved the vacant chair near her, Yuta made his way to the table he was stationed at.

“I can move my things, Mr. Castro,” she claimed, quickly taking her things from the vacant chair, but the older man stopped her. “Let the waiter do that. It’s his job.” The side of Yuta’s lips turned up. What a prick. Y/N just gave Yuta an apologetic look before he moved the vacant chair next to hers and moved the other chair, with her things, far from her. What does this man want? “We’ll order later.”

Yuta hated these kinds of customers the most. From what Johnny supplied, he is a politician with a high office in town. Everyone knows that he’s married, so going to the restaurant and eating dinner with a younger, hotter woman raises a few eyebrows.

And honestly, Yuta doesn’t want to think of the worst thing possible. But is she the mistress of a politician? But what about her eighteen-year-old son? Is she cheating on her husband with this politician? Or is the son the politician’s child? Is she not married? But she has a wedding ring on her finger. Yuta shook his head. This is hurting his brain. And why is he too bothered about it?

“Aren’t you going there?” Johnny asked, gesturing at table ten. Yuta glanced lightly at the man, who kept talking animatedly, and the woman, who looked uncomfortable. “I don’t think they’re here for a date.”

Yuta made his way to the table, asking what their orders were. The older man ordered the steak, and a salad for the lady, which startled the waiter. Is she only eating a salad? And why is he ordering for her? Upon closer inspection, he saw the woman moving farther from the man. His hand was on her lap as she smiled timidly at him.

Wait, is she being assaulted by this man?

Yuta kept his eyes on the people talking at table ten, making Johnny lightly nudge him while asking him what was wrong. “She looks uncomfortable, isn’t she?” There was obvious fidgeting in her actions, and how she was trying to move away from the older man made Yuta assume something was happening. “I’ll try to get her out of there. Could you ask her privately if she needed help?” Johnny only nodded as Yuta made his way to the table.

The politician glared at the waiter when he stood before their table. Both customers' eyes were on him. “Ms. Y/N,” he called, startling the woman. The manager wants to talk to you about your credit card,” Yuta continued, making the girl look at him confusedly. “It kept on declining.”

“I can pay for the…” the politician claimed before the girl stood up while shaking her head. “I’ll talk to the manager. Thank you.” She declared, standing up with her handbag while rushing to Yuta’s side. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience, Mr. Castro. I’ll just settle this real quick.”

The older man shook his head. “I can just pay for the meal.”

The younger girl shook her head. “I don’t want your wife to misunderstand,” she answered with a smile. “I’ll just call my husband to pay for the meal.”

The older man stood up, “We could discuss your idea later. I’ll tell my wife to call you.” The girl apologized once again before watching the politician exit the restaurant.

Knowing he was out of sight, Y/N sat back on the chair with a heavy sigh. “Are you alright?” Yuta asked, which made her nod, staring at the well-decorated table. That was so scary. “Do you need something? I could call someone.”

But she shook her head, “I’ll just take the steak he ordered, and please cancel the salad.” She claimed, breathing heavily as if trying to keep her composure. “And do you have something alcoholic that would let me drive back home?”

Yuta smiled. “I’ll check.” He took the used glass and placed a new set of glass and a plate in front of her. “I’ll be back with your order, ma’am.”

“Thank you, Yuta.” She said with a warm smile. The guy had to smile back, grinning when he turned his back on her.

“You look like a teenager with a huge crush.” Johnny teased.

Dinner was terrific, except for the little incident that happened. Y/N was now unsure how to approach Mr. Castro and his wife. But to be fair, he was the one making indecent moves on her. Her brother might be right; she should stay away from high-end clients.

The steak was tender and very juicy for its price. The virgin piña colada almost tricked her into thinking that she had a drink that night. It was a great meal, and the servers were very courteous. Maybe she’ll bring Sungchan for dinner here sometime.

A tall guy was operating the counter, but her eyes looked around for the familiar face that saved her that night. “I’m sorry, we don’t accept tips,” the man claimed, handing back her change. But they deserved it after what happened tonight.

The girl only smiled. “Then can you just please tell Yuta I said thank you?”

He smiled wide and nodded. “I’ll let him know.” She had to look for the waiter again, but in the end, she just left the restaurant.

Maybe she’ll just come back and have dinner here some other day.

Then, she could thank Yuta personally.

—--

“Yes, dad, I’m fine. I’m going home tomorrow morning.” Shotaro whispered on the phone just as a car engine could be heard. It’s probably Sungchan’s mom. Should he wake his friend up? “Take care on your way home, dad.”

The door opened as Shotaro put down his phone. Sungchan’s mom looked at him in confusion, and he greeted her with a bow. “You cannot sleep?” she asked, but Shotaro smiled while waving his hands. The room Sungchan offered was very comfortable. He claimed it was his uncle’s room whenever he visited them.

“I called my dad.” The older one nodded, placing her keys on the table. “Sungchan is already asleep.”

The girl smiled after glancing at her son’s room and nodded. “Did he buy you dinner?” He answered that they ate pizza, making the older person apologize. Wait, why is she sorry? “My son and fast food,” she claimed while shaking her head. “I’ll cook an edible breakfast for the two of you tomorrow. What would you like, Shotaro?”

This is very embarrassing. “I’ll leave early in the morning to head home.”

“Have breakfast here first; I’ll make fried rice.” He nodded, thanking her quietly. Sungchan said his mom worked in fashion retail. Does she always stay at home? It wasn't that long since Shotaro lost his mom, but it feels like he doesn’t have any idea what mothers usually do. “You should take some rest.” Shotaro nodded as he started walking upstairs, leaving Sungchan’s mom on the couch, focused on her phone.

The house feels warm even if only two people are there. Maybe that’s why he eased up on Sungchan the first time they met. He’s a very warm person, different from other cold guys their age. After spending his days with his sisters, bonding with a male his age was nice. Hopefully, Sungchan would be his friend in the long run.

—-

“You’re late!” Jungwoo noted as Y/N started putting down her binder and handbag on the table. She started apologizing while reasoning out that she had to prepare breakfast for Channie and his new friend. “Sungchan is back? Already?”

“He said his father sent him to summer camp.”

“I thought they’d spend time together.” But the girl just sighed, shaking her head. “Then what’s wrong? Did he suddenly change?”

Again, Y/N shook her head as the events earlier that morning replayed in her head. Shotaro was showing her pictures of the performance they had on camp, even surprising her that her son can sing and dance. Sungchan was even sharing that a lot of family members came and he even took pictures with Shotaro’s grandparents. When she asked why he didn’t invite her, his only answer was “I did invite dad, I thought he’d just message you.” And Y/N felt bad.

If only they were still together.

“You can’t possibly blame yourself for your falling out. You were both so young when you got married.” Jungwoo claimed, making the other sigh. “Besides, I always knew you’re too good for each other.”

Y/N had to breathe hard. She shouldn’t think much about it. They had been divorced for years now, she doesn’t even remember why she fell in love with him in the first place. She’s just thankful that he’s still active in their son’s life and co-parenting Sungchan without bothering each other.

They had obviously moved on from each other, but it’s still awkward being in the same room at once. Besides, she still considers the what if of their relationship. What if they’re still together? What if they truly loved each other? What if he chose her over his career?

The side of her lips curled up watching Jungwoo talking to two girls: a teenager and a young kid, about the dress on display. “I’m sorry, we don’t make dresses for kids,” he claimed, making the young girl pout.

What if they have another child? A daughter, perhaps?

Y/N smiled at the two girls, “Do you like the dress on display?” She pointed at the floor-length pastel rainbow dress by the shop window. The young girl nodded, claiming that she loves the color of the dress. “I can make you one.”

“Y/N!” Jungwoo called.

“But he said you don’t make dresses for kids.” The older of the two girls claimed.

The older woman nodded, “But I am the designer and maker of the dress, I can make you a dress if you really want it.” The kid’s eyes sparkled, making her grin. “Let’s go inside so we can talk about the design you want?”

Jungwoo was shaking his head as he headed to the counter, Y/N following him while the two girls settled on the lounge. “You have a lot of orders, why would you take that?”

The girl smiled at the two girls’ way. “Call it a passion project.”

“You just really want a daughter.”

“Sungchan will get mad at you if he hears that.” She said with a laugh.

Y/N was gracious in interacting with the young girl. This was her dream from the start, to open a boutique and design dresses for young girls. But the market is so cutthroat that when she got alimony money from the divorce, her brother insisted on making a boutique for older women who usually pay more. She was just sketching the dress, even considering the input of the kid who wants glitters by adding shining sequins on the body of the dress. It feels great to be working with someone who knows what she wants, unlike the other customers who can’t seem to make up their minds.

“How much will the dress cost?” The older of the girls asked, fiddling with her thumbs. “Dad gave us a specific budget for my sister’s dress.” Oh, Y/N thought that they’re mother and daughter. How adorable is it to have two daughters in a family.

The younger grinned, “It’s my seventh birthday.”

Y/N had to smile, “Don’t worry about it. It’s my gift for you.” The younger had to gasp, surprise written all over her face. She’s so cute, Y/N thought. There’s no doubt, daughters make the world brighter. “I’ll make sure that you’ll have the perfect dress for your party...” She trailed off, turning to the older for their names, but the young kid chimed in,” I’m Sakura and this is my sister, Sachiko.” Are they Japanese? She had been meeting a lot of Japanese people lately.

“I’m Y/N,” the older said with a smile. “When are you needing the dress again?”

—----

Sungchan was just amazed at how small the neighborhood was when they reached his friend’s new house. Shotaro didn’t even know where their new house is and just followed the shared location set by his dad. Once again, the person who has lived in the neighborhood all his life was startled when a young man went out of the house and his friend called him dad. He looks so young. Are parents this young already? Then maybe there isn’t much of a deal with his young mom. “Dad, this is Jung Sungchan. We met at camp and he lives in the same neighborhood.”

“You are so tall,” the older man claimed with a laugh. “I’m Yuta Nakamoto, Shotaro’s dad.” Sungchan lightly glanced at his friend. Isn’t his full name Shotaro Osaki? Why is his dad’s surname Nakamoto? “I can’t believe you got a friend before Sakura.” The guy mentioned laughed.

“Where are Kura and Sachi?”

“They went to the mall,” Yuta answered while checking his phone. “They bought clothes for Sakura’s birthday.”

Shotaro shook his head, making Sungchan confused. “We’re doing it this year?”

Yuta nodded, “What Sachi said made sense, it’s a new environment for your sister. This is her chance to make new friends.” Then his expression was gloomy, that startled Sungchan. “Besides, it’s been seven years already. We should at least celebrate Sakura’s birthday.”

The younger one nodded, “Is there anything else that I can help you with for the party, dad?”

“I still haven’t found a venue nearby for the party.”

Sungchan lightly glanced at the father-son before muttering, “I know a place.” Shotaro looked at him in question before he continued, “The neighborhood has this great clubhouse where they frequently host parties.” He then glanced at the older of the two, “I know the homeowners’ president, we can talk to her and reserve the clubhouse for Sakura’s birthday.”

Yuta nodded, “Thank you, Sungchan.” The mentioned guy grinned, making his friend smile widely.

He is very lucky to meet Sungchan.

—-------

“What do you mean you don’t want me to drive you to school?” Y/N asked dramatically. Sungchan just took a bite of his toast, staring at his mom deadpan. “It’s your first day.”

He nodded, “It’s nothing serious, mom. I just want to ride the bus with Shotaro.”

But the older girl pouted. “I always drive you to your first day classes, though.”

“That was when I was younger.” The disdain on the older’s face can be seen immediately, which made Sungchan chuckle. “It really isn’t a big deal, mom.” He whispered, “Shotaro is new in town and I want to show him the academy.” The older woman just stared at him. “Please, mom.”

With a heavy sigh, Y/N nodded. “And it’s not because of those puppy eyes, you’re too old for that.” Sungchan laughed, hugging his mom from behind. “When did you become taller than me?”

“I’ve always been taller than you.” He claimed, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “It’s because I always ate with your love.”

The older rolled her eyes. “You’re exactly like your dad, it’s annoying.” She started getting some cash from her purse. “Additional money for your bus rides and eat some snacks with Shotaro.”

His hug got tighter. “I’m sorry but you know I love you, right?”

Y/N had to smile at that. Although Sungchan had grown taller, he’s still the same sweet little kid she took care of for years. “I know, I know. You’ll be late if you don’t hurry up.” The younger guy smiled widely, taking the cash she gave and his bag while muttering an ‘I love you’ as he ran outside their house.

She sighed once she was alone. Y/N was well aware that her son is growing up, but when did it all happen? He doesn’t want her to drive him to school. He drank her coffee instead of the glass of orange juice she prepared for him.

Y/N heavily sighed. She badly missed it when Sungchan was still a young boy.

“You should start dating,” Jungwoo claimed, drinking his iced coffee while watching her stare at the rainbow dress for the young client girl. What? All of a sudden? “It’s not too late to have a child once again.” Y/N shook her head while laughing. That’s not it. She does miss taking care of a young child, but she doesn’t want to go through the whole childbirth again. That was the hardest time of her life. “Or maybe just date a single dad.” The thought made her stare at Jungwoo in surprise. What the hell is that idea?

Y/N shook her head. Jungwoo is so weird.

—

Y/N had never seen a party with this many kids before. Sakura may have invited all the kids in the neighborhood just for her birthday party. How cute. Maybe her parents are incredibly wealthy for pulling this party for her. “Y/N,” the president of the homeowners greeted her with a wide grin on her face. “I thought you weren’t coming.”

“Is this the party you were talking about?” she asked, and the older woman nodded. “The birthday celebrant is a client in my boutique.”

The other woman fixed her hair, “The dad is such a handsome guy. You should definitely meet him.” Y/N chuckled. She had already found it weird that the president had been bugging her to go to this children’s party. This was what it was all about? So they could talk about the handsome new dad in the neighborhood? Truly, the married women in this place are a different breed that only makes her laugh.

“Mom!” she heard Sungchan say, running to where she was. Shotaro, who was following close behind, even greeted her. Wait, why is Sungchan and Shotaro here? “What are you doing here?” She should be asking him the same question. “This is Shotaro’s younger sister’s birthday.”

Wait, it clicks now. Sakura is Shotaro’s younger sister. No doubt she’s been meeting a lot of Japanese people in town lately. Then it only means that Sachiko is also Shotaro’s sister. That adorable girl. Maybe that’s why Sungchan is hanging out so much with his new friend. But wait, is this how small the world is that she’s discovering this in one birthday party?

Maybe, the world is indeed small. When Shotaro called for his dad who was greeting the guests, Y/N almost gasped at the man smiling at her. Yuta is Shotaro’s dad? Yuta is Sakura and Sachiko’s dad? Yuta is the handsome dad that all the married women in the neighborhood wanted to meet? “You know each other?” It was the president of the homeowners who asked that question. Both Sungchan and Shotaro were staring at them in curiosity.

“We bumped into each other a couple of times before,” Yuta answered curtly, making Y/N nod. “It was nice to see you again, Y/N.” The other smiled, greeting him the same way as he greeted her before he excused himself to greet his children’s grandparents.

Sungchan gave his mom a questionable stare that made her glare. “What?” But he just shook his head, laughing to himself. Weird kid.

The party is really amazing, Y/N had to note. If she was a kid, she would have a blast. Maybe their family is very wealthy to afford this huge rainbow unicorn themed birthday celebration with the younger kids in the neighborhood. The food came out and the bouncy house designed on one side of the clubhouse is such a haven for the kids. When the clown came, the children’s squealing was heard all over the place. He started entertaining the kids with games, making the adults laugh at the antics of everyone in the party.

“You really made Sakura’s dress?” Sungchan asked his mom, seated next to her. He had been munching on the ice cream for a while now. The older woman just nodded, staring at the birthday girl as her sequined dress glittered against the lights of the venue. “It’s really pretty.”

The girl grinned. “Do you want me to make one?” The teenage boy laughed wholeheartedly.

There was a shift in the kids as the clown changed the game to the traditional ‘Bring Me’. It was light things at first: a coin, a tube of red lipstick, and even car keys. The kids were very chaotic, making the older women on the same table as Y/N laugh.

“Now,” the clown started making the kids silent for a moment. “I want you to bring me the prettiest mom.”

Sungchan lightly nudged Y/N, “Mom, I should bring you there.” The older woman just laughed at her son. "Then maybe I can get those huge lollipops." Y/N laughed so loud that it made Sungchan chuckle. Her son might be crazy.

Sakura came running towards their table and Y/N thought that her mom was there. Maybe one of the women in the same table as hers was Yuta’s wife. Come to think of it, she had never seen her in the party. “Auntie,” The birthday girl called, holding her hand. “Come on.” Y/N was just surprised. Why her? Shouldn’t it be her mom? But she only stood up and let Sakura drag her to where the clown is.

“I said prettiest mom, not prettiest sister.” The clown corrected.

Y/N had to smile at that. What is this weird scenario? “I am a mom.” She corrected, leaving the host surprised. When he asked where among the elementary school kids is her child, she pointed at the tall guy on the side waving his hand. He even exclaimed how young she looked. “I get that a lot.”

“Do we agree that she is the prettiest mom out there?” He asked the crowd who only cheered on her but Y/N shook her head. There’s no way. There are other moms of these little kids who are prettier than her. Surely, the birthday girl’s mom is way prettier than her. “Do we think she’s the prettiest mom, Sakura’s dad?”

Yuta looked surprised at the mention of his name before standing up and giving a thumbs up. The man seated next to him has a wide smile on his face and Y/N remembered him as the tall guy from the restaurant. The clown gave both her and Sakura a giant rainbow lollipop which she handed to her son as she returned to her table. “I told you you’re the prettiest mom here,” Sungchan whispered, removing the wrapper of the lollipop.

That was weird.

But what’s weirder is, where is Sakura’s mom?

The kids were playing on the bouncy house and Y/N watched as Sungchan towered over them with his height. Sakura had forced him to watch her play in the bouncy house. Will her son like it if he gets a younger sibling? But Y/N prevented herself from laughing by biting her lip. As if she’ll have another child.

“Y/N,” she heard someone call before that person sat on where Sungchan was sitting earlier. Yuta. “I haven’t thanked you for making Sakura’s dress. She loves it so much, she might sleep wearing it.” The girl chuckled. She was glad. It was the first time that she made clothes for younger girls, so it makes her heart happy that her effort is appreciated. “I’ll pay you for the dress.”

The girl shook her head. “It’s my gift for Sakura.” Her gaze then fell on Sachiko who was standing next to Sungchan and talking to Shotaro. “I even offered Sachiko if she wanted me to make the same dress but she declined.” It was Yuta’s turn to laugh, as expected of his eldest daughter.

“Sachi hates dresses.” Y/N nodded. She looked very laidback in her jeans and shirt but it perfectly suits her. She's very pretty. “Maybe because she grew up always pairing with her twin brother.”

The girl’s eyes widened at that. “Shotaro and Sachiko were twins?” Her gaze was on Shotaro then at Sachiko. “Oh yeah, they look alike.” Yuta chuckled which made her gasp. “Oh my God, your wife is amazing, Yuta. How did she give birth two times in one night?”

There was a faint smile on Yuta’s lips which Y/N caught. “She is.”

“Where is she?”

“The thing is,” he started then breathed heavily. “She died giving birth to Sakura.” Y/N had to cover her mouth in surprise. What Sachiko said back in the store made sense, that she wants this birthday to be perfect for her sister.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N mumbled. “That must be tough.” Yuta chuckled. “But this birthday party is amazing, Yuta. The best I’ve ever been.”

A laugh erupted on Yuta’s lips that surprised Y/N. He’s so carefree. It looks good on him. The married women in the neighborhood were right, he is handsome. “Thank you, Y/N.” He whispered then held his hand high. She gave her a high five but he interlocked their fingers together. “Thank you for making Sakura’s birthday special.” She grasped his hand, shaking it. “And I think I’ll be seeing you more often.”

What? “Why is that?”

He lightly glanced at the bouncing house where Sakura is talking to the crouched Sungchan. “Because I think my Sakura has a huge crush on Sungchan.” Y/N had to giggle at the observation. That is so cute.

“Don’t worry. I won’t be an evil mother-in-law.” Yuta laughed.

Part Two

#yuta #yuta nakamoto #nct yuta #nct yuta nakamoto #dad yuta #yuta x y/n #nakamoto yuta #yuta fluff #yuta nakamoto fluff #nakamoto yuta fluff

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milkpup · 2 years ago

Text

｡⋆ʚ♡ bad luck comes in threes (and in me)

›› nsfw 18+ / 3 part fic

@ace_343 on twt

ch 2 ♡ ch 3

ʚ ao3 ɞ / ʚ kofi ɞ / ʚ fic masterlist ɞ

›› naoya zenin x f!reader ›› megumi fushiguro x f!reader ›› toji fushiguro x f!eader ›› naoya x f!reader x megumi / megumi x f!reader x toji ›› naoya x f!reader x megumi + toji ›› started: 1/12/24 : status: ongoing

‹𝟹 summary: You and Megumi are close friends. He invites you to his family's estate where you start to notice how bad your luck really is.

‹𝟹 fandom: jjk, jujutsu kaisen

‹𝟹 genres / warnings: au - no powers, college au, pseudo-incest (they all want y/n, not eachother), harsh language, abuse, power imbalance, dubious consent / rxpe / noncon

‹𝟹 tags: AGED UP CHARACTERS!, au - no deaths, au - toji and megumi are part of zenin clan still, power imblance, degradation, choking, loss of virginity, name calling, pet names, some fluff and LOTS OF SMUT, slight angst, all the zenins want you basically, vaginal, blow jobs, cunnilingus, face sitting, 4some, mdom, fsub, pseudo-incest, meet the family, breeding, cum as lube, cum swapping, light blood, aggressive choking, will update tags as more is added, praise, being called a good girl

‹𝟹 notes: this is a long time in the making. i probably started this fic over a month ago >< i've been working on it more than my lfls fic that i like more. just smthn abt naoya...... (usually i prefer naoya to be subby but this fic is diff oopsies :3!). lmk what y'all think.i'll be updating my other fic real soon but for now, crumbs of this i guess LOL. i was originally going to do a oneshot but it was already starting to get long and i hadn't even progressed much in the plot i have written up x-x so i figured i'd do 3 chaps since it's like the theme >:3 hope y'all like it!!!

i'll be updating tags as it progresses. i'm super excited abt this fic even tho it's like 99% smut. (idk how to write stuff w/o smut oops) what can i say??? 🤌

!! - again, PLEASE READ TAGS BEFORE CONTINUING - !!

! - ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+ - !

Chapter 1: Exposed

“So, do you think you can make it?” Megumi asks, taking a sip of his coffee and looking at you inquisitively. “To my family event, the reunion thing, I mean.”

You hadn’t thought about it much. Sipping on your tea, you contemplated. You’ve never met Megumi’s extended family; you had no idea what they would be like. Megumi’s family is huge, and it would be a multi-day event held at their estate. “Oh, what the hell. I have nothing better to do during winter break anyways.”

His face lights up a bit at your confirmation, but Megumi tries his hardest to hide it. You can see the blush creeping across his nose, his cheeks, even reaching the tips of his ears. He was like a little puppy, excited to see you.

“Make sure to bring any nice clothes you want to wear, but there will be pajamas and toiletries provided to you.” He finished his drink and moved to throw his away. “Are you done too?”

You felt bad, you had a little bit of your tea left and he was patiently waiting for you to finish to throw your trash away for you. You hurriedly suck up the remainder of the tea through the straw, and hand him the empty cup. “Thanks, Megs.” You chirp.

Megumi blushes and looks away as he takes your cup from your hands.

You’re back at your house, frantically packing last minute before Megumi comes over to pick you up. You’ve always been an overpacker, and you have no idea what to expect. You throw all sorts of garments into a pile that you want to take: casual clothes like leggings and hoodies, dresses and formalwear, and intimates. You blush, picking up matching sets of underwear and bras. You decide to toss them onto the pile anyways, better prepared than not. You didn’t know who you were “preparing” for, but felt your cheeks flush anyways. I’m meeting my close friend’s extended party and I’m packing lingerie, am I a fucking creep? You shake your head, trying to shake the thoughts out too.

You finish stuffing your clothes into your bags, packing some makeup and skincare that they probably wouldn’t have available. Just as you finish zipping your second bag, you hear a loud knock on the front door. It’s Megumi.

You open the door with a soft smile, greeting Megumi. “Thanks for picking me up Megs! Can you help me with my other bag?”

He looks down to where you’re gesturing, noticing the other bag. “Jeez ____, it’s a 3 day party. How many clothes do you need?”

You blush, sheepishly. “I just want to be prepared… y’know?” Megumi huffs and groans before picking up both bags. A lady should never have to carry her own bags, and he noticed it seemed like you were struggling with how heavy these bags were, being packed to the absolute brim.

“T-thanks, Megs.” You croak out as you follow behind him to his car. He doesn’t reply, hoisting your bags in the trunk before slamming it shut. You open the door and sit in the passenger side, buckling your seatbelt with an audible click. He gets in shortly after you, adjusting his seatbelt and turning the car on.

The silence is thick, but not awkward. You and Megumi were comfortable around each other, not requiring a word to be said as you sat in comfortable silence on the drive to his family’s estate. Your curiosity got the better of you, and you ask Megumi, breaking the silence, “So what are the plans for the event? How big is it going to be, anyways?”

Megumi answers you, not taking his eyes off the road. “It will have pretty much my entire family, extended family, and family friends. There’s lots to do at our estate, from the gardens, movie room, bar room, and more. As for planned events, music and lots of food, maybe dancing?” His tone ends questioningly, he knows his family isn’t particularly fond of frivolous activities like dancing, but there might still be some as more people loosen up.

You nod, taking in his answer. This sounds almost a little exciting. Much better than spending time holed up in your room, studying or watching youtube.

Megumi pulled up to the grandiose estate. “Wow Gumi, I knew your family was loaded…. But not THIS loaded,” You gasped in awe. The entire property was large enough to be a mini village. You were shocked, to say the least. The beautiful landscaping, trees, the koi pond that connected into a river surrounding the main building… it was all too beautiful.

“Yeah, they are wealthy on a whole different level,” he responds, as he pops the trunk and retrieves your bags. “Usually they have servants around, but I’ll show you around the estate myself instead.” He starts walking towards the front entrance, you follow him closely behind, not wanting to get lost.

Megumi doesn’t even have to open the door, servants inside let him in as soon as he approaches. He briskly walks along the pavilion, turning left towards a long corridor. You try to match pace, but his long legs gives him an advantage. You take this moment, a few paces behind Megumi, to admire his raven locks bouncing as he walked.

As you’re walking, you pass an entryway, seeing a few figures to your right. Someone clicks their tongue. “I see my cousin Megumi understands,” he starts, eyes following your figure as you walk past him, “that a woman’s place is three steps behind a man’s.” This mysterious man, related to Megumi, smirks as your figure disappears.

“Don’t listen to him. He’s so full of shit it’s festering,” Megumi spits out. He seems to really hate whoever that guy was. Megumi leads you to a room down a quiet corridor and opens the door. “This will be your room for the next few nights,” He announces as he enters the room and sets your bags down. “My room is on the other side of the estate. These are the guest rooms. We can check mine out later, if you’re interested.” He flushes at that last part, looking down and uncomfortably shifting his weight. “Anyways, I have to clean up before dinner in an hour. I’ll be back to see you soon.’

Megumi retreats from your room and closes the door behind him. You decide to unpack, putting things in the drawers and hanging some items in the closet. The room was quite spacious, with its own bathroom attached and adjacent to this room.

You haven’t finished unpacking yet but decided to take a quick shower just to freshen up. You scope out the bathroom and quickly shut the door behind you. Turning the shower on to a scalding hot temp, you wait for it to heat up as steam fills the bathroom. You strip and enter the shower.

He stalks the hallway you were walking through but a moment ago. He’s insanely curious as to what you look like up close, intrigued by your fleeting form as you walked by behind Megumi. He wondered if you were his toy, you following Megumi like a puppy definitely gave off that message.

He can still smell a lingering scent of citrus and flowers. He knows it’s you, because women of the clan are usually not permitted to walk this side of the estate anyways. He’s following your trail, like a predator following its prey. He sees the faint glow of light coming from the crack of a door and approaches it.

He knocks once. No response. He knocks twice. Still nothing. Naoya Zenin believed he was a gentleman, but he had his limits. This was his future estate, he believed he had every right to know every single thing going on under this roof.

He lets himself in, and immediately sees the cracked bathroom door, a bit of steam escaping. He hears you humming while taking a shower, and smirks. He silently closes the door, and makes his way towards your plush bed. He sees a bag open, clothes strewn about. Something frilly and lacy catches his eye, and he walks towards the table instead. He picks the article of clothing up, noticing he was holding a black thong, laces and bows, adorned with gems along the thin waistband. He licked his lips, unholy thoughts flooding his brain.

He hears you shut off the shower, and quickly pockets the garment, swiftly moving to sit on the edge of the bed. A few moments pass, and the door of the bathroom swings open. Steam floods your room, quickly dissipating. You have a towel wrapped around your body, still humming as you walk towards your pile of clothes. You had set a specific set on top to put on after your shower. You could have sworn the thong was there, but as you rummaged through your bag the garment was nowhere to be seen.

“Looking for these, little miss?” You gasp and turn around to see a man sitting on your bed, holding up your thong with 1 finger, while smirking and eyeing you down. You nearly drop your towel, but regain composure.

“Who are you?” You ask, unsure of why a strange man you’ve never seen before let himself into your room.

“My apologies, doll, I didn’t mean to scare you. My name is Naoya Zenin. I’m set to be the next heir of the clan and estate,” he smirks, “And I figured I should personally introduce myself to you. It would be impolite of me not to do so. Who are you?”

“I’m _____, Megumi’s friend. He invited me over to meet all his family.” His ears perked up at you mentioning your friendship with Megumi, a devious thought crossing. You were still in your towel, cold air further cooling your already wet skin.

“You didn’t answer my first question, little miss. Were you planning on wearing these?” He practically spins the panties around his finger, staring you down intently. “I didn’t think such a good girl would bring something like this to wear when meeting her friend’s family…” He trails off.

A blushes creeps along your face, you didn’t think someone would know. You didn’t think someone would barge into your room, look through your clothes, and tease you about it. You couldn’t even look Naoya in the eye, shame clearly on display on your features.

“Don’t worry, woman, I won’t tell anyone. You wouldn’t want your close friend, Megumi, to know about this right? I won’t tell; however, my silence has a price.” He finishes his comment, smirking at you. His sultry gaze was locked on you, scanning your body from head to toe. He grinned and licked his lips, thinking about how he could manipulate you.

“What do you mean?” You look up at him, confused and unsure about the situation. “What do I have to do?” At that question, Naoya lifts himself from your bed to make his way towards you. His gaze never once leaving yours, making intense eye contact that sent shivers down your spine and left you trembling. You felt like prey being stalked by a predator.

Naoya is right in front of you now, as he grabs both wrists with his hands and lifts them above your head. You’re startled but have no time to react as he pushes you against a wall, wrists pinned above you. You can feel Naoya’s hot breath tickling your cheek, making you lose all sense of rationality. He grins at you, looking down as he has you in a position you can’t easily free yourself from. Your head hangs low, looking down, trying to stifle your heavy breathing. You don’t want him to know his actions are affecting you.

“I know women are dumb, but seriously, how can you not know what I mean? At least you’re pretty….” He leaves his sentence unfinished, bringing a cold hand to your chin and tilting your head to look at him. “Little miss, I’ll explain it to you once, in an easy way to understand. I want to use you. Your body, specifically. Will you be a good girl and let me? Or do you want me to make you.” Naoya’s tone drops a bit, almost grunting at the end. Thoughts about what “using you” entails floods your mind. You’re inexperienced, but not entirely clueless. Your blush deepens as you look into his eyes, now peering down at you.

You didn’t think being degraded and praised in the span of a few seconds would entice you as much as it would. Normally you’re a very independent woman, fully capable of realizing your own dreams and pursuing your own goals. But something… something about being put down but also called a good girl sent you driving up the wall with insanity. You were hooked near instantly.

“Yes sir,” you meekly respond, looking up at Naoya. Your emotions and lust are on clear display for him, and he’s enjoying every second of it.

“Good girl.” He smirks. “Just to be clear, I have very specific tastes and like to be pleased in a certain way. Try and make me proud, you dumb whore.” Your cheeks flared red at the insult. “Open your mouth, cunt.”

You made no hesitation to fulfill his command. He still had a firm grip on your chin, leaning down as he spit into your mouth. “Swallow, princess.” He instructs as he pushes your mouth closed. You comply, feeling more heat pooling between your legs. “Good girl,” he purrs as you open your mouth to show him.

He leans back into you, lips crashing into yours. He nips at your bottom lip, drawing a tiny bit of blood as he goes back to kissing you. He can taste the blood mixed with both of your saliva as he forces his tongue into your mouth, trying to push his way into every part of you he can. His hand previously at your chin is moving down toward your neck, resting into a firm grip across your neck. You can still breathe, but the firm pressure while he’s sloppily kissing you elicits a few soft moans from you into his mouth. You can’t tell, but he’s grinning as his grip increases a bit. He pulls away before taunting you, “Do you like that? Huh? Are you a masochist or something?” He’s not relenting, grip strengthening as you’re looking up at him, tears beginning to form in your eyes.

You’re unable to speak, so you try to nod your head to show him that he’s right. He notices and loosens his grip before moving his hand towards your chest. “Good girl,” he praises you. “I like that.” He leaves kisses in a trail from your lips to your neck, kissing over the faint marks his hands left before. You’re still against the wall, hands above your head, and he released his other grip before picking you up and carrying you to your bed.

“Next time, I want to see you wear that slutty fucking lingerie you brought. You’re such a dirty girl.” He peers down at you as you’re left exposed on your bed. He’s crawling above you, pushing you into the mattress. He gives you a few impatient kisses before moving back to your chest, grabbing one of your breasts while his mouth moves to the other. His other hand is fervently roamed your body, moving down your tummy towards your hips and eventually resting on your thigh. His hands were soft but rough trailing along your skin, as if he was searching for something.

Naoya’s hand slips to your inner thigh, just shy of your exposed cunt. He lightly grips it as he starts leaving a trail of kisses down your body as he took his hand from your breast and pushed your thighs apart. He left love bites and marks as he made his way to your cunt, stopping to look up at you. He grinned as he spit on one of his fingers, prodding its way through your folds to find your clit. He’s been with many women, and although he has an arrogant attitude, he does know exactly how to please a woman.

He rubs circles around your clit as his mouth leaves a little bite mark against your inner thigh. You softly moan at the pain as Naoya’s eyes flick up to meet yours. Although you can’t see it, you’re sure he has that asshole smirk of his. Your suspicions are pretty much confirmed when he says “Are you some masochist? Some dumb bitch who likes to be hurt. For real?” You think you heard a laugh as he moved his finger down to your hole, spitting some more before he fucked you with a finger. You didn’t need any more lube, you were practically drenched. He pushed his finger in, feeling how tight your hole was with only one of his fingers.

“You have the tightest cunt I’ve ever felt. I’m impressed. Are you a virgin too?” He looked up at you, expecting an answer.

“Yeah..” You tried to hide your face with your hands, embarrassed at your lack of experience. Naoya saw it differently though. His cock twitched in his pants as you replied, and he started moving his finger inside your tight cunt. He loved hearing the little moans you make as he slipped his finger in and out, a lewd wet sound filling the room. He was trying to get you used to it, but he was getting impatient. He was already working harder for any woman he’s ever been with.

His mouth moved above your clit, tongue flicking around the sensitive bud as he slipped in another long finger into your hole. He curled and scissored his fingers, trying to stretch you as his fingers fucked you faster. Your face was flush with embarrassment as you still tried to contain some of your moans. One more finger slipped in, stretching your walls while he moved above you, face aligned with yours.

He kept fingering your cunt as he aggressively kissed you, biting your lip before he shoved his tongue into your mouth. You could feel yourself come closer to the edge, your core tightening. You were moaning into his mouth, arms wrapped around his neck pulling his body closer into yours.

“Fuck... Naoya…” you whined out as you felt the thread about to snap, “I’m gonna—cum!!” His fingers slammed into your cunt as he was leaving marks along your neck. You felt your walls tighten around his fingers as he expertly prepped your cunt for the main event.

“You’re such a good girl… I almost feel bad taking your virginity. Almost.” Naoya takes out his fingers, sucking on a few of them to taste you. He pushes one of his fingers into your mouth, commanding you to taste your own cunt. “Next time I’ll taste you myself… but I can’t wait any longer,” he says as he’s taking off his shirt and pants, pulling down his briefs to expose his large cock. He moves up above you again, grabbing your legs by the ankle as his body is pushed against yours. He’s putting you in a mating press. He moves the tip to your entrance and spits on his cock before slowly pushing inside, feeling your tight walls around his girthy cock.

He gives you time to adjust, but it isn’t nearly enough. Naoya has been kind enough, but he always takes what he wants. Still, he will be nice one last time. “I’m gonna fuck you how I want to now, okay whore? You’re gonna be a good girl and take it anyways, right?” He gives you no time to prepare as he slams into you, bottoming out, forcibly deflowering you. The pain hurts, but Naoya is relentless. He pulls out and briefly gives you a moment of respite before slamming his cock back into your cunt. Despite the pain, the feeling is like never before as his body is pushed against yours, cock ramming in and out of your hole. Your cute moans are like music to his ears.

He leans down towards your face, seeming like he’s going to kiss you but instead spits on you. He moves a hand to grasp around your throat as you’re looking up at, unable to make any sound as his cock abuses your hole. The pressure and lack of air make your head feel dizzy as he spits again, degrading you. “You like that too, huh, stupid slut.” He hips pick up speed, pulling out before repeatedly bottoming out into your cunt. He lets go of your neck, allowing you to gasp for air. He would never admit it, but the sound of you struggling to breathe drives him insane.

He spits on his hand and moves it to your clit, fervently rubbing your bud, bringing you closer to your second orgasm of the night. You feel the waves of pleasure overwhelm your body as he’s raw dogging your cunt and relentlessly abusing your clit. Your moans are laced with pleasure, dripping with your ecstasy as you cum over Naoya’s cock, tightening your walls around him.

Naoya mercilessly fucks your virgin hole like he deserves it, like it’s owed to him. Whatever he wants, he gets. He’s grunting as moaning as he picks up speed, fucking you like an animal. “Hey bitch, ah fuck—I’m gonna cum in you. You’re gonna take it like a good girl alright?” He lightly slaps your face as he’s finishing his sentence, bottoming out for the last time before he slams back inside your cunt and paints your insides white. You can feel the warmth of his seed filling you; there’s so much of it that it leaks out, a lewd sight before Naoya as he looks down at where you’re both connected. Before he can pull out and clean himself, the door to the guest room slightly creaked open as if it had been left ajar, not fully closed. Naoya cursed himself for not closing and locking the door.

Megumi had been standing there for not even 5 minutes when he went to check on you and bring you to dinner. He was approaching your room when he heard faint moaning coming from your room. He was confused and curious, stopping in front of your door as he noticed it was left slightly open. What he saw left him shocked and speechless, unable to move or avert his gaze through the crack.

He heard you more than he could see you clearly, but your moans that are more beautiful than a symphony of angels was more than enough to make Megumi’s cock strain in his pants. He peered closer, unable to see who was fucking you but still able to see your bodies colliding. He couldn’t deny how erotic it was to see you get fucked, but a twang of jealousy and pain struck his heart that he wasn’t the one making your body shake in pleasure.

He hears a voice, it sounds familiar although he can’t quite place it, telling you he’s about to cum. Megumi leans forward more, slightly pushing the door as he watches the other man breed you. Just as the door squeaks, the man’s head whips to see the door and he makes eye contact with Megumi.

“____, what are you doing?” Megumi questions as he practically stumbles into the room. You lift your head to see Megumi looking at you and Naoya in horror. Shame and embarrassment overcome you, and you move to cover yourself with some blankets as Naoya got off of you and faced Megumi,

“I think it’s more appropriate to ask what are you doing, Megumi?” Naoya’s staring daggers into Megumi; he’s unaffected that his family member caught him in a compromising position, almost as if he’s used to it.

“I was coming to get ___ for dinner… I didn’t realize she was busy being a disgusting fucking whore and sleeping with my family though.” He looks over to you, making eye contact as he sees tears form in the corners of your eyes. He doesn’t actually think you’re disgusting, quite the opposite in fact. But he’s so upset that someone else got to be with you first, and Naoya of all people. As if that scum deserved to be with someone like you.

Naoya could instantly tell what was going on here. He can read Megumi like a book, and smirks as he grabs fistfuls of your hair and pulls you against his chest to taunt Megumi. “Looks like you lost. This is why I’ve always been superior to you. You wanted this little slut, huh? Mad that I broke her in first, aren’t you?” His voice is laced with amusement as he provokes Megumi. He pulls your head to be almost level with his as he spits onto your face. “Your little friend is quite the slut, I had a lot of fun using her like the whore she is. She probably wouldn’t even mind if you joined in, isn’t that right bitch?”

Despite the predicament you were in, you couldn’t help but feel aroused at Naoya’s manhandling and suggestion of Megumi joining in. It had never crossed your mind, although Megumi is quite attractive, you didn’t think he was interested. You were only able to mutter out a small “yes” as you look over to Megumi, noticing the flush in his cheeks reaching all the way to the ends of his ears, and the straining bulge in his pants.

“I’m sorry, ___... Be good for me, please?” He was almost pleading as he was walking over to the bed, already starting to strip.

“You can hurt her and call her names, that dumb whore likes it.” Naoya says, moving aside to let Megumi have easier access to you. You’re still lying on your back, barely recovered from getting your guts rearranged only minutes before. Megumi stands in front of you before kneeling down to get at eye level with your cunt. Naoya hadn’t been able to get up since Megumi stumbled into the room; because of this, your womb was filled to the brim with Naoya’s hot cum leaking out of your small hole. Megumi’s eyes were immediately locked on at the lewd sight before him when he used both hands to grip your thighs and spread them apart.

He moved a slender finger past your leaking hole, scooping a bit of cum up with his fingers as he dragged his finger across your clit. The sharp inhale and moan you made sounded absolutely divine to Megumi, urging him to keep going. “Good girl…” he purrs, as he moves his long fingers down to your hole again, once again scooping another glob of cum. “Sit up, slut,” He commands as he stands up. You comply, not willing to play any games in a situation like this. He shoves his cum covered fingers into your mouth; you lap it up and suck his fingers without having to be told anything. Megumi grins. “Good girl, ____. Such a good girl.”

“I bet you like that, don’t you slut?” You hear Naoya’s remark from aside you, he’s watching all of this unfold right before him. Megumi takes his fingers out of your mouth, Naoya grips you with fistfuls of hair and forces you to look at him. “Answer me, bitch.” He glares at you intensely.

“Yes… yes sir… I do.” You try to look anywhere except him but Naoya isn’t having it.

“When men are speaking, you show them the respect they deserve. That means you answer clearly and fucking pay attention. Got it?” He tugs your head to face him, leaning in closer until he’s only a few inches from your face. “Open your mouth, bitch. And don’t swallow until I tell you to.” You comply and he spits into your mouth, before closing the gap and letting his lips crash into yours. He bites your lip, drawing blood. The metallic essence mixes with his spit before Naoya leans back and instructs you to swallow. It feels perverse and humiliating to admit that it turned you on.

Megumi dropped onto his knees again, this time pushing his slender fingers into your cunt. It feels different this time for you; he’s gentler as he stretches you open. He takes his time adding more fingers, taking in every moment and feeling.

“Let’s change the position, yeah Megumi?” Naoya says it more as a statement and less of a question as he’s already moving to rest on the bed against the wall, pillows propping him up. He pulls you away from Megumi while simultaneously flipping you onto your tummy. He pulls you into his lap, supporting your arms until you’re able to prop yourself up above his cock. One hand grips the back of your head and pulls you closer to his thick cock. He pulls you by your hair, aligning your mouth with the tip of his cock as he forcefully shoves your head down. You nearly gag, pushing against him as he tries to use your mouth. Despite your resistance, Naoya doesn’t seem to care and is chasing his own high using you to get him off. You take him into your mouth, inexperienced but trying to adjust quickly. Naoya gives you barely any time to try and settle within the rhythm he’s created. You basically gag on his cock every time he plunges it slightly deeper than the last, but this only enhances Naoya’s pleasure.

While Naoya’s aggressive use of your mouth is going on, Megumi is taking his time to explore you from behind. His fingers are touching every part of your body he can get to, settling on your ass that he starts to spread apart. He’s entranced by the glistening of your cunt in the light, lost in thought about how lewd you look taking Naoya’s cock while bent over for him like a full course meal. He’s done with his “inspection” and moves one of his slender fingers to your entrance. He slips it in easily, listening to you moan with a cock stuffed in your mouth. Naoya pushes your head down farther along his length, trying to hit the back of your throat. You try to control your breathing in time with his rhythm.

Megumi slips another finger inside, stretching your cunt. “Fuck, ____, I didn’t think you were this tight.” He groans as he starts fucking you with his fingers. The lewd sounds he forces out you vibrate around Naoya’s cock. His other hand is grabbing fistfuls of your hair, face fucking you harder as your dripping cunt takes another of Megumi’s fingers. Megumi picks up pace, bringing another hand to your clit to add extra stimulation, but mostly so he can see you writhe and squirm under him while trying to hold yourself up.

“Will you be a good girl for me and cum, ___?” Megumi coos, stringing you along with his praises. “You look like such a dirty girl right now, already about to cum with just my fingers. So cute.” He finger fucks you harder now, making lewd wet noises as his fingers slam back into your pussy. His other hand is toying with your clit, drawing circles and rubbing the little button to bring you closer to your ecstasy. You can feel the knot tightening in your stomach, feeling yourself be pushed over the edge with his fingers alone.

Naoya thrusts into your throat, choking you and momentarily leaving you without air as Megumi pushes you over the edge. You feel your cunt tighten around his fingers as the waves of pleasure wash over you, the lack of air adding to your heightened senses. You moan as you’re cumming, giving just enough sensation to Naoya for him to creampie your throat. His cum is being forced down your throat, yet there’s still so much that some leaks from the corners of your mouth as his cock is pushed against the back of your throat. He finally shows mercy and pulls out as you’re coming down from your high. You force yourself to as much as you can before gasping for air, panting as you trying to calm down again.

“You did a good job taking all of me, slut.” Naoya grins as he lifts your chin with one of his fingers, leaning down to give you a kiss as you share his cum in your mouth. You didn’t think he’d be into some perverted shit like that, yet he’s basically tongue fucking your mouth still full of his cum. He pulls away, a long string of saliva and cum still connecting you two.

Megumi watches you two, his cock throbbing so intensely it almost hurts. He wastes no time in pulling his pants and boxers down before spitting in his hand and lubing his cock up. He’s shuffling behind you, lining himself up with your cunt before he pushes in at full force, giving you no time to adjust to his monstrous cock. You let out a yelp, air evacuating your lungs at the surprise intrusion. He’s balls deep near instantly in your tight hole, stretching you open with a cock that is even girthier than Naoya’s.

Naoya is watching you, grinning, and lazily stroking his cock. You have no idea how he’s able to keep going for multiple rounds, only a little bit of time in between. But you don’t care. The man in front of you is irresistibly hot even though his attitude is garbage. You would do anything he asked no matter how degrading it is in hopes that he would manhandle you again. As these thoughts cross your mind, Megumi reels you back into reality as he pushes so deep into your womb you’re sure he probably bruised your cervix.

“Your pussy is amazing, sweetheart. You have no idea… hah.. how long I’ve been wanting this.” Megumi praises you, unable to control his breathy moans as he continues fucking you with full force. One of your arms is pulled to your side, Megumi interlocking fingers and holding your hand as he drills into you. Even in a situation like this, he can’t help but do some cute shit.

His other hand lightly smacks your ass as you whimper in pleasure, unable to hide the fact that you like it a little rough. Megumi lets go of your hand as you feel both his arms snake around your waist, pulling you up and against his chest as he fucks you. Your back is to his chest, on full display for Naoya in front of you. His shiteating grin is plastered on his face as he has a front row view of Megumi’s cock sliding in and out of you. He gets up from his seated position to face you. Megumi’s arms are still wrapped around your body, supporting you as he drills into your cunt. You can feel his breath against your neck and hear his soft whimpers in your ear. “You’re doing so well, slut. Such a good girl for me huh?” He whispers into your ear. His words send chills down your spine as he keeps ramming his cock into you, abusing your poor hole.

Naoya moves closer to you, his face only a few inches away from yours. He kisses you slowly, before aggressively trying to fill your mouth with his tongue. He pulls away, spits on your face, and lightly slaps your face. “You love taking your friend’s cock, huh? Didn’t think it would be that good, did you? Who knew you’d be the family’s fuckdoll.” He chuckles at his degrading joke, but you couldn’t help but internalize his words. You have no idea how you got to be in this situation, but you were definitely not complaining. Something about multiple men of the same family using you how they liked made your cunt drip at the mere thought of it.

Naoya moves his mouth to your neck, leaving little marks on your skin to prove he was there. Little bruises of his lust for you, marking your skin like you’re property. Megumi start pulling out with only the tip left inside, before bottoming out into your cunt. He groans beside you, lost in the addictive pleasure that is you. Megumi was no virgin, but he believed you were the best person he’s ever fucked, your body insanely attractive and your personality catching and reeling him, unable to resist you.

Naoya moves back before bringing a hand to your neck, gripping your throat and momentarily cutting off your oxygen. “Megumi… fuck this bitch harder when I choke her, okay? She fucking loves it.” And he wasn’t wrong, you did love it. He gripped your throat, a smirk planted on his features as he watched you helpless and at his mercy. Some drool started dripping out of your mouth and you could feel your vision starting to haze around the edges. Megumi fucked into you harder, pulling you closer to his body. Naoya let his grip loosen a bit around your throat, enough to allow some air to fill your lungs again.

“I’m close, baby. I’m gonna fill you up okay? Be a good girl and take all of it for me.” Megumi purrs beside you. Naoya takes this moment to strengthen the grip around your throat, cutting off your air. You feel Megumi’s speed pick up, him desperately chasing his orgasm. You can hear his staggered whimpers as he empties his load into your cunt, filling your already full womb even more. Naoya releases his hand from your throat, making you choke and gasp for air. He’s looking down at you with sadistic satisfaction as you struggle to catch your breath.

Megumi pulls out and lets go of your waist, and you plop down onto the bed absolutely fucked out. Naoya is quick to get off the bed and start dressing. He finishes so quickly it’s as if he was speedrunning it (he has done this many, many, MANY times before). He gives you a quick peck on the lips and gently rubs your cheek before starting to walk towards the door. “See you soon, slut,” he says as he walks out, closing the door behind him this time. Megumi returns with a clean towel, gently cleaning you up as you just lay their like a limp fish.

“You did so well for me. Thank you,” he says as he kisses your cheeks and then your lips before pulling away and picking up some clothes for you. He tosses you a simple outfit to wear and begins dressing himself as well. “Ready for dinner? You’re gonna meet the rest of my family now.” You nod your head yes, anticipating who else you’re going to meet.

‹𝟹 notes: this was originally suppsed to be a oneshot, but i felt like it was getting too long. i have plans for all of them and wasn't going to be able to execute it in just a oneshot. let me know what y'all think!

feedback is always appreciated!! thank you all!!!

ch 2 (soon)

‹𝟹 notifs: @vvxxccaa @arylaa @starshipxoxo

ʚ join my notifs ɞ

(･ω･)つ divider creds to @/cafekitsune and @/eloquentreverie

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chuluoyi · 1 year ago

Text

UNHOLY MATRIMONY — 11

✩°｡ ⋆ transcendent truth

- fushiguro megumi x oc/reader - oc/reader's character name is hara sena, pronouns still refer to “you” and i won’t mention it often—just for the sake of aesthetic rather than repeatedly writing "y/n"

in another life, in which fate is still screwing his life over, Fushiguro Megumi finds himself in an arranged marriage―with you.

genre/warnings: arranged marriage au, drama, heavy angst, zen'in naoya <- hard warning! character death, mentions and descriptions of blood and major injury, profanities, violence, read with discretion!

notes: sorry for the long wait! :( i was on leave, work stuff were piling up, got sidetracked by gojo, and living my life and i have a lot to write for this so... oh and does naoya get to live, you ask? well, well... you may see his fate in this chapter :))

series masterlist | next. the most twisted curse

A week ago October 26

"My father has died."

You gazed in sheer horror at Maki's words, as she stood at your doorstep. Everything in your mind blanked out as you struggled to grasp the meaning behind her jarring words.

You could only utter an almost inaudible "Huh?"

Yet Zen'in Maki didn't seem like a daughter mourning the loss of her father. She looked like she had just won a war with how she stood tall, all with her scars and burns. And yet―

"Oh, and my sister too," she quickly added, looking away, and you could finally see the trace of grief in her voice. "Naoya has destroyed everything."

Somehow it was still hard for you to imagine that the whole Zen'in clan was now in tatters. You blinked, stuttering. "He did? How did he―"

Maki told you everything. It had started from a heated argument instigated by Naoya to demand his claim, but since Ogi wouldn't entertain him, things escalated into a gruesome fight that ended with his head rolling off.

Over the span of one night, he massacred several other clansmen, along with Maki's sister, Mai. Now, the Zen'in clan was without a head and forced into submission by him.

"Sena, I'm telling you this because he'll go after Fushiguro next," Maki's voice was firm and unwavering, and it made you almost recoil. "Having my father gone isn't so bad―I have had enough of him, but Naoya is still on his delusional rampage."

"Megumi won't come back to that place," you firmly stated. "Naoya can have it all by this point, why is he still looking for him?"

"He's now beyond reason. He will seek him out himself if he doesn't come."

After Maki left you with that warning, you were still reeling. This was such an abrupt change of situation, and you knew you had expected facing Naoya in the end, but you thought you'd have more time to think.

Now one thing was clear: Megumi was in danger. A grave one.

October 28

Days with Megumi felt like light rain shower to Hana.

Domestic and cozy. She knew she was here just to cure his sister, yet the friendship that had blossomed between them felt just right.

"Please look after Tsumiki for me," Megumi said plainly, getting ready to leave the hospital. "I'm heading out for a mission."

She gave him a heartfelt smile. "Oh yes, as always, of course."

"Thank you."

Watching him go past the door, Hana smiled until the door sealed shut. Then she turned to the sleeping Tsumiki. She looked as peaceful as always, and the curse mark on her forehead had started to unravel too. Good, she did a great job then. It was taking a while, but Tsumiki was slowly and surely on the path of recovery.

It caused her spirits to deflate a bit, knowing that after this arrangement, she would have to part ways with Megumi, as there were no ties binding them together.

It was times like this that she envied you.

Tidying the hospital room and changing the wilted flowers with fresh ones, Hana easily considered this her comfort space. Everything was curated to how she liked it. She thought she would be having a slow day today, until a frenzied knock on the door startled her.

She couldn't fathom who the visitor could be until she warily opened the door and saw you.

. . .

You had anticipated Megumi to be the one opening the door, until it wasn't.

"Can I help you?" the girl in front of you asked hesitantly, seemingly puzzled. Your breath caught, as you realized that this was most likely Kurusu Hana the curse breaker―also the witness to your divorce.

"Is Megumi here?" you asked calmly, trying to even your heartbeats. No. You couldn't be petty against this woman. Your business was with Megumi, you couldn't get her in the crossfire―

But all that thoughts flew over your head when she retorted, "Why are you trying to find him?"

"I have to talk to him," you responded, still trying to be calm. Okay, no, she couldn't possibly be anything more than divorce witness. Megumi wasn't the type to―

Once again, your thoughts blanked when she replied, "He's out. Maybe I can leave your message to me and I'll inform him later?"

Something about her tone didn't sit that well with you. It was as if she was trying to show you that she was the one in charge... of what, exactly?

You had come to inform Megumi about Naoya's doing. It was as simple as that. Even though you knew that he most probably wouldn't give two shits regarding Zen'in anymore, you just had to make sure.

But seeing another woman in the doorstep, knowing that he spent most of his time with her now that you weren't around... yeah, you couldn't deny that it hurt you.

"Then, please give him this."

You handed the brown envelop to Hana with your jaw held high. Maybe Megumi was right after all, you had a talent to become an actress as your voice didn't even waver. "I've signed the divorce papers. Please let him know to proceed as he sees fit."

Hana appeared taken aback, evident from her widened eyes, but you continued. "Oh, and I've moved out of the apartment too. He can come back. Please tell him that I'm also grateful that he let me stay for this long."

"That's―"

"And one last thing... This is important, and please don't forget to tell him this."

You stared at Kurusu Hana squarely in the eyes, not even flinching as she blinked at you in total silence. "Don't let him come to Zen'in compound on October 31."

She frowned. "What do you mean? October 31? What's happening―"

"That's not for you to know," you interjected with precision, steel in your voice. "Just don’t let him go there, please."

Hana remained silent for a few moments before asking, "Are you... really going through with the divorce?"

"I don't appreciate you delving into our affairs," you spat in response. By now, you truly struggled to contain your own emotions—the hurt, the realization, the mere fact that she was here at all. "Just tell him what I just told you. You're an outsider. And since you've volunteered to inform him when he gets back later, then just do it."

And Hana seemed a bit offended by your snappy tone, but she chose to keep her mouth shut.

You bowed your head a little. "Well, then. Thank you. Have a good day."

As you spun around and stomped away from Tsumiki's room, that was when you finally let your facade crack. Biting your lower lip in frustration, your eyes watered once again.

How could he... get so cozy with her not long after you, just like that? Hana was talking as if she owned the place. It irked you, but above all, you felt so hurt that you wondered if what you were doing now was worth it at all.

But yes. You reassured yourself of the fact, because even if you weren't doing this for Megumi, then you definitely were still doing this for your own sake.

Zen'in Naoya was on your hitlist, and you were determined to see it through, even if it was the last thing you'd do.

When Megumi got back to the hospital later that afternoon, he had noticed how strange Hana was.

"Did something happen?" he inquired with a frown.

"Oh, no... not really," she winced, seemingly uncomfortable with the question, but she quickly covered her strange expression with a smile. "Anyway, how was your mission?"

If he were to be honest, he would prefer if Hana didn't get too friendly with him, despite everything. Maybe it was his quiet nature, or whatever, but he liked to be left alone.

"It went alright."

It was when he glanced at the table that he noticed it. The divorce papers he had left in your desk at the headquarters were there, and his initial reaction was the sinking feeling in his heart.

"Why are these here?" he snapped almost instantly, asking Hana for clarification. "Has Sena come here?"

"Oh? Oh, yeah..." it was evident that she was flustered, but she quickly blinked her surprise away. "She dropped by to give these for you."

"Did she say anything else?"

"Oh yeah... she said... she has moved out of the apartment."

That, he didn't expect. You had moved out? Where? Where did you go?

It had been two weeks since he last saw you, and the feeling of betrayal was still there, gnawing at his soul. And yet, to see you really agreeing with the divorce he pulled out of impulse and and moving out of his place made it all feel undeniably real.

Deep in his hearts, he knew that he had been bantering back-and-forth with himself. Heck, ever since that horrid reveal about this marriage, he felt like he lost a sense of himself. He shouldn't, but it was hard not to.

He was about to return to his place―with futile hope to find you, perhaps, when his phone rang in his pocket. Yuji was calling him.

"Hello, Itadori? Uh, yeah... sure..."

He was called back to the headquarters for a follow-up mission. Megumi mildly cursed under his breath after ending the call.

"Are you going again?" Hana questioned in a hurry, and it made him turn to her.

"Yeah, I must go―"

"Whatever you do, don't get near Zen'in's family home."

He raised an eyebrow at her sudden statement. "Why?"

She stuttered. "Just... don't. I've heard... there are just some things happening there. It'd do you better to stay away from them."

When Megumi reflected on this moment a few days later, he would realize that her behavior had been quite strange. However, in the heat of the moment, he didn't dwell on it much as his main focus shifted to his sudden mission.

October 31

His mission had taken him three days to sort out, with him and Itadori staking out at the site, and by the time he was finished, Megumi was at his wits end.

He was exhausted and only just now was he able to really go back to his apartment the first time ever since he left you here.

His place was so empty it felt jarring. The fact that the two of you used to live here not too long ago was bittersweet, especially when he saw the little pots of cactus he planted across the living room had all withered.

Megumi entered almost reluctantly, as with each step, the sting of pain in his chest intensified. He really did love you. And more often than not he found himself thinking why everything had to go this way.

Everything was left neat and tidy. You must have cleaned the place before you left. Megumi traversed through the living and dining areas before finding himself in what was initially his bedroom—the one you both had shared for the past two months.

No creases on the bedsheet, no more of your clothes hanging or cosmetics on the table. What remained was… a folded paper?

He had never jerked so fast in his life—he immediately unfolded it and could barely read.

Dear Megumi, How are you? Are you doing well?Ah, you must be still mad at me. I can’t really fault you for that though. If I were you, I wouldn’t take being played by someone who claims to love you lightly too. I know how you feel, or at least, tried to . . .

Was this the right thing? Despite making this decision yourself, you couldn’t lie and say that you were wholeheartedly sure.

“Hara Sena— do you really wish to die?!”

All you know was blind rage when you saw Zen’in Naoya’s face.

He cackled, almost wheezing, while mocking you entirely. Your anger simmered, steadily rising, reaching a boiling point with certainty and intensity.

“Ah, this is too funny!” he wiped a tear out of his eyes, his cackles receded into huffs of barks. “Who are you to think that you can stand a chance against me? Me?”

You didn’t entertain his question. “How can you be so shameless about everything you have done?”

He burst into unhinged laughter once again.

“What’s there to shame? I can say that I’m proud while at it—”

"You murdered your own kin!" you cut, looking at him almost in disbelief, clenching your fists to keep them from trembling. "And yet... you stand there so proud. It's delusional."

"What I did―heh, I'd even go as far as saying that it's my greatest achievement yet. It’s beyond your comprehension, sadly.” Naoya threw his hands and sneered. “I wouldn't expect bastards like you or Fushiguro to understand.”

You scoffed. Talking to a wall never works, huh.

"What is sad is that you would go this far for... what? A clan of ruins?” you taunted, a derisive smile on your face. “Who is even left here? This is no achievement. You're just crazy.”

For a second, you could see that that smug grin falter, twitched even, before he hardened it with a manic grin.

“Say that again, woman—”

“You can pretend all you want, and glorify your delusional self while at it, but it won't matter.” You didn’t flinch, despite how intense the pounding of your heart was. “Today, you will lose, Zen'in Naoya.”

And that sealed your fate. Today is the day it ends.

I tried to, but I’m also hurt, you know?

Megumi sprinted, bolting out of his apartment with pure terror. He had to, for the chance to find you was slipping with each second. After reading that letter, he realized just how messed up everything was.

I have thought many, many times about when you were going to find out the truth. I know the worst is that you wouldn’t believe me, but I really thought we could part in better terms than this.

What you did hurt him too, that’s true, and it was hard for him to forgive you. He couldn't ignore that reality.

Because I trusted you. I trusted you wholeheartedly when you said that you would stay with me. I thought that, maybe, even if we can no longer be together, at the very least you wouldn’t just go and leave me with a little to say for myself. Because that’s what I’d do if our positions were reversed.

But you trusted him. Until the end, until the moment you decided to sign the papers and moved out.

Something within him plummeted and shattered. He had really lost sight of the bigger things. Halfway through, he naively thought it had ended with him going away.

No, it hasn’t ended. He had overlooked one monumental aspect.

But I’m not you. And ultimately, I’m still in the wrong, and it’s hard to explain myself because I know it. No matter how much I try to justify myself, it’s still not enough. Because when I first started out, it was indeed my intention to use you.

Now, it didn’t matter that much. Not when he realized what you were about to do.

But, Megumi, there’s one truth in our relationship—even when there are many lies in it. That truth transcends all, and it’s this: I love you. I really do. Even now as I’m writing this, I still do.

Each breath he took, it scorched his lungs. Megumi thought he had known what heartbreak was like. But no, he didn’t really. Not until now.

In the short time we were together, I was the happiest. I love living with you. I love going through the day with you. Thank you for letting me know what love feels like.

Damn it. If something were to happen to you now, after this—

And I wish you the best. It hurts me to know, but if it's Kurusu Hana, then I only hope that this time, it's your own choice. This might be the last you're going to hear from me. I'm going to settle my debt with Zen'in Naoya. If you ever read this... one thing I ask from you is that don't find me. Let this be where it ends. With me.

"Idiot, you're an idiot!" he harshly grunted under his breath. How was it that you had asked him not to find you when he knew what you were doing?

Now it all made sense. October 31. The duel. Zen'in family home. Hana's warning. You were the one who told her that.

His chest constricted, the muscles in his legs had started to ache, and he was losing breath. But he pressed on. Megumi had to get to you, before it was too late.

Your innate technique wasn't made for front lines.

Despite your father's pride―which you had long considered misplaced―your family's innate technique, in your and Naoya's eyes, were quite unhelpful, or useless even.

You couldn't even feel your lower body as you laid there on the hard ground, gurgling and tasting your own blood in your mouth.

"Now you see?" Naoya curled his lip in satisfaction, looking down on you with that disdainful eyes of his, once again believing he was far superior than you. "You have no chance against me, Sena. If Fushiguro can't, what makes you think you might have a shot, huh?"

True, he didn't even have a single scratch in his body. You stood no chance against him. Did you know that?

As a matter of fact, you did.

"What a pitiful sight you are," he uttered, firmly planting his feet on your chest, and a broken whimper escaped you. "Just die already."

When will this end? You had to wait out, or else— or else, you were doing all of this for nothing.

"This is the exact expression that whore you call a mother had too," Naoya suddenly retorted, prompting you to open your eyes in response.

Your mother. In her last moments, was she in this much pain too, because of him?

The thought made your rage boil once again. You gritted your teeth together. "You... b-bastard—!"

"Hah? What?" He dug his heels in your broken ribs and you whimpered, spitting out blood.

You didn't know how much longer you were going to be able to withstand this pain. Everything in your body was broken at this point. You are quite literally dying.

You thought you had accepted this. You figured that since you had nothing left, dying wouldn't be that bad, surely.

"Hmph, boring." Suddenly he kicked you and you rolled several ways from him, wincing in absolute agony. Naoya turned his back on you, walking away with deliberate loud steps.

He gestured at the cloth of his hakama. "You're going to dirty my clothes. Since you're going to die anyway, I'll be here to watch you."

Mad. Truly mad. You couldn't think of any other word aside of that to describe the Zen'in spawn. He was the craziest of all people you had ever met, had ever imagined you could encounter in this shitty life.

"I'm curious though, why are you here? Fushiguro would never ask you." Naoya regarded your form with narrowed eyes. "Is this love? Are you afraid that he'd die by my hand that you willingly went in his stead?"

"N-no..." you immediately replied in disdain. "You... h-have—"

"You are not making sense," he shrugged, shoulders shaking with laughter. "Ah, that's why. Love is the most useless of all. That love got you dying now, hmm?"

There was no need to entertain him. You unclenched your fist slowly, your fingers twisting in weird angle after Naoya broke them—but you readied yourself.

Just a little bit longer...

"If only from the very beginning, if you would just agree to be my wife instead of making a fool out of me—"

A bit... just a little bit more...

"—then perhaps, you'd be living the honored life as my wife—" he kept continuing with a stream of words that didn't quite register in your mind. Nevertheless, you remained fixated on the movement of your fingers.

"But you just had to go and drag that washed-up bastard to my doorstep, conspiring with that senile man and Gojo, and where does it get you now—"

Now.

"And your most moronic act is coming here, thinking that—hrrgk!"

Suddenly Naoya toppled over, clutching his throat, his breath coming in gasps. "W-what—"

A cruel smile curled on your lips, seeing the frightened look on his face. "I'm... telling you... you're going to... die today, Zen'in Naoya."

"W-what— did you do to me—!" Naoya squared on you with fury shining in his eyes. "You— wench!"

You kept your silence, closing your eyes. You felt tired. It was so tempting to go to sleep.

"Whore! You—bitch—urrgk!"

As the air slowly left his lungs, Naoya finally gained clarity. Your fingers. A hand sign...?

You had waited for this moment. For the very second he no longer pinned you and you had the freedom of the use of your hands.

It struck him like a bolt of lightning. Hara clan's cursed technique.

Manipulation of air density.

You were slowly choking him to death.

. . . It was somewhat of an irony, that you depended on your cursed technique in the end. For you who had always considered and known that your clan was a second-rate, believing that you hated yourself for being born with this cursed technique and made your mother suffer, you never really took pride in possessing this.

And yet today, you bet it all on this talent of yours. To finally make things right again.

You tuned out the rest of Naoya's last words. You only opened your eyes when you heard him thud to the ground, all pallid and blue.

A weight in your chest dissipated. You did it. You had avenged your mother, and perhaps, if the Gods were finally kind to you, after this you might be able to see her too...?

Regardless, now you could rest in peace, content with leaving everything behind.

And yet, despite thinking so, you couldn't help but to turn back to those days with Megumi, doing mundane things normal people did. Eating together, going on dates, his smile, laugh— you would never get to see him again, and that fact brought a tear to your eyes.

The only boy you ever loved. In this life, and in any potential other lives, you would undoubtedly wish to meet him again too.

The only consolation you had now was that, by doing this, you had also fulfilled your end of the binding vow with Gojo.

"How unfortunate, and now you're dragging Megumi into this? What's it in for me and him?"

This is it. You have no other way and even this is also your last resort. To save your mother and yourself, you must drag an innocent soul into this complicated mess. Fushiguro Megumi is going to take a part in your game of survival, and you will make sure that he won't be just a mere sacrificial pawn.

"I believe the Zen'in has been bothering you quite a lot too, all these years," you met Gojo's eyes calmly, hiding your fear. "If you can install Fushiguro Megumi in Zen'in clan, wouldn't that be easier?"

"Well, well, you seem to know your way around here, yeah?" Gojo threw you a tight smile, visibly amused. "I'm not going to be a hypocrite and say that I don't want to do away with them, but Megumi? Do you realize what you're implying?"

"What if I told you that I can definitely remove Zen'in Naoya from the equation?"

"How?"

"From what I've heard, only a handful of the clansmen favor him."

"It's not going to be that easy, Sena-chan. You're going to put his life in danger."

"That's what I'm proposing to you. I will not let them harm him."

Gojo let out a scoff. "Two conditions for one in return? Aren't you getting desperate? Are you sure it won't be easier if you just resign yourself to a life with the Zen'ins?"

"No." You bit your lip. "My mother would rather die than seeing me being married off to that misogynist, and my father would continue locking her up if I refuse this marriage with the Zen'ins."

After pondering for a while, Gojo agreed with your proposition. To make sure that you'd be staying true to your convictions and he'd get Megumi instated as a part of Zen'in clan, he pulled you into an unbreakable vow.

"In exchange of Fushiguro Megumi becoming a part of Zen'in clan, Hara Sena would remove Zen'in Naoya from the succession war, and at the same time, ensure his safety."

next : the most twisted curse

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6feathered6siren6 · 2 months ago

Note

heyyaaa a platonic killer chat fic ??

i was wondering if u could make a fic where killer chat finds out that the reader is actual still in high school and only typed that on the computer because they had to research it for a criminology assessment

complete understandble if not hope u have a good day or night <33

Innocent young detective with killer friends

Authors note: Can I say, I like this idea a lot! I never thought of a kid reader, but here we are! I had a lot of fun writing this! This is more of a chat-fic but again I had fun. Enjoy o7!!

Tigger warnings

Mention killing

Slight miscommunication

---

You know when you look up something for research, then send a question out to the internet, you didn’t expect to be here. From looking into that pesky assignment from your oh-so wonderful teacher to being in a server full of adult killers. You know, like don’t trust random adult people but… here you were in one. Full of killers.

And oh lord, did they help you understand stuff even if they didn’t know. Hell, they think you are a full adult. Though Ronin was scary at first. Always asking you how you kill and all that stuff. But hell, if you can ignore the looming death threats above your head, you can learn so much about them.

Introduction

U/N: Yo, just call me by Reader or (nickname), I am in school learning about criminology! So I might not be able to respond at times, so please be patient with me!!

–

You remember once that Vince said that you remind him of his kids once, acting so young and talking similarly to one. You just said that a lot of people mistake your voice as a kid. Afterall, you can’t be a kid, there is no way you could be. You were totally an adult killer.

You are really close to Feli, Luca, and Misaki, being close in age, them being the youngest of the server. And luckily they didn’t really ask much about your age, and they thought you were in uni as well. Everything was fine, at least so far.

And you finished that assignment! An A-! Perfect, and you were enjoying your new found friends.

–

You sigh as you look at this new assignment. ‘Most criminals, or what I want you guys to write, Murderers have reasons to do their actions, environments to their own behaviors and thoughts. I want you to give me some reasons why people do their murders. Please write this with your words, and it must be reasonable. I do not want to see ‘they just want to’.’

Why do people do it…

You first thought back to the server, after all they are killers, they have reasons. You know a few, like Misaki’s is for money, V’s vision of justice, Luca being a total accident killer, then Luca to send a message. Ronin you don’t know much for, or Angels. Vince, slightly.. Ai hua…

You groan as you bang your head down on your desk. Should you write about them…

You could..

Killer_shits

U/N: Heyyyyyy

U/N: SooOOo000ooo

U/M: I got an assignment from my class, and my teach wants to know why killers kill

U/N: So I wondered if I could write about you guys(WITHOUT NAMES AND ALL, I AIN’T GONNA OUT YOU!!!!!)

hitmeuppp: :OOOOOOOOO

hitmeuppp: THAT WOULD BE SO COOL NGL!!!

LUCA_IS_SO_COOL: WAIT, CAN I BE IN IT‼️❔

Felicite: Reason of killing: by accident

hitmeuppp: I plea

hitmeuppp: Oops daisy, your honor

goreboy: ooo, Group project

LUCA_IS_SO_COOL: 😤 >:[ 😠

LUCA_IS_SO_COOL: RUDE!! 😒

Angelic: Ronin, don’t just say because it was funny to watch them die.

goreboy: Boo

goreboy: i Was gonna say To get revenge

goreboy: how Lowly do you Think of the devil

K9: You can say to get justice for other people.

hitmeuppp: To pay for rent! Or money..?

hitmeuppp: Hitman all the way BA-BEE B)

Angelic: You can say for me is to help my friends from bad relationships <3

U/N: Thank you! If it’s okay with one of you, can I ask more questions, like she wants reasons for it, like was it a bad person or something?

K9: I can help, we can talk more in our messages.

hitmeuppp: *whispers to everyone* chat… is it..

LUCA_IS_SO_COOL: *whispering back at Misaki* maybe.. maybe

hitmeuppp: *whispers back to Luca* V is gaining friends

Felicite: I swear…

LUCA_IS_SO_COOL: *Feli shakes her head*

Felicite: Luca…

–

V decided to call you, luckily, you convinced him to only voice call. You were scared to show your face as you look young, you might pass as an adult but many people could tell you were a kid. But V unmutes.

“Hello, Reader. Hope your evening is well, and at least not too stressful.” V spoke, he didn’t sound down or negatively. So hopely you don’t ruin that with your questions.

So after a while, all the questions were answered, it was you and V talking about nonsense. Just random questions to each other.

“So how is your school, you must be getting a degree.” V mentioned. You can hear clicking from his side.

“Eh, good, busy studying but having fun.” You said, you typed as you wrote for your assignment. Hopefully, this would be an easy thing to finish a week early. “Wish people would stop being dumb.”

“I would say that is a normal university experience for you.” He chuckled.

—

Prom.. that was coming up. You don’t really have much for a date, but you want to go with your friends. But you don’t have a lick of sense for makeup for your outfit, that you still would have to look for, so who would? Angel would! Right?

You decide to text her.

U/N: Hey! Question for ya!

Angelic: Hm?

Angelic: What’s up, Reader?

U/N: .

You accidentally pressed enter as you paused. You never corrected that you were in high school not college or uni… shit.. Fuck… you took a breath, might as well come out about your age…

Angelic: Are you okay?

U/N: So I got prom coming up soon..

You see ‘Angelic is typing’. Welp, shall this be your grave? You can feel your anxiety rush through you.

Angelic: Are…

Angelic: Are you in high school? Because Prom isn’t usually in college.

U/N: Uhmm… yes?

You felt that breath of air stuck in your throat. Truth always comes out somehow.

Angelic: Give me a moment.

You have a feeling you might be kicked out, maybe hunted… You hear a chime as a new chat room was made. ‘ur-angle-or-yuor-devil’

You check it.

Angelic: Made @/ U/N mod temporary for this

Angelic: And Ronin, you get final say.

goreboy: eh?

goreboy: What’s making The angel’s anxiety Haywire

Angelic: U/N, I will leave you to explain as much as you want but please be honest.

U/N: Uhmm…

U/N: I’m in high school..??

U/N: Like… I’m a minor?

goreboy: wait..

goreboy: High school? thought you Were in Uni

U/N: It was you guys just guessed that

U/N: I just didn’t say anything..

goreboy: angel

goreboy: dms

There was a pause, no one was typing. You were so going to die… you lied.. You are mo-

Angelic: Okay, so we come to something

Angelic: You can stay

Angelic: But

Angelic: We got to announce it, to make sure everyone knows

goreboy: didn’t Think the jr detective Was a kid

U/N: No one did, I guess

U/N: Sry for not saying anything..

goreboy: we all Have our Secrets

goreboy: And your proved yourself Already

goreboy: just keep Doing what you Are doing

Angelic: I’ll make the announcement, but Reader we can talk about what you originally asked me earlier.

U/N: Okay.

Announcements

Angelic: On recent news, one of our members is a minor, so please keep certain topics away from the gazing eyes of the baby. Killing should be fine? Since of their major, but still be thoughtful of what you write.

Angelic: While we never corrected it, sorry for not making sure of this, @/ U/N, but please next time say something.

General

hitmeuppp: WAIT…

hitmeuppp: Reader is a kid!?!

LUCA_IS_SO_COOL: I THOUGHT THEY WERE IN COLLEGE

LUCA_IS_SO_COOL: LIKE ME AND FELI

K9: Oh, that would explain a few things.

Ai_hua444: 👶 📔

U/N: I’m in high school, still majoring in criminology. I’m more of a teen close to being an adult.

hitmeuppp: Wait… baby killer…

Felicite: I’ll make sure Luca is in check.

LUCA_IS_SO_COOL: HEY!! I can check myself 😤

U/N: Sorry for not saying anything

hitmeuppp: Eh, people have secrets

Angelic: Okay, that aside, you were having prom, Reader?

U/N: Oh, yeah! I need an outfit and find out what I should do for my make up.

hitmeuppp: OO, OO

hitmeuppp: Angel is your best call for that

goreboy: After all saint maria Does a channel for it

Angelic: I’m sure everyone can help a bit

LUCA_IS_SO_COOL: ANOTHER GROUP PROJECT

LUCA_IS_SO_COOL: I’m sure we can help

Felicite: Or in Luca’s case, destroy any fashion sense

K9: I’m sure we can find a good outfit for you.

–

Prom went great, you had a lot of fun, dancing in an outfit that Angel, Ronin(somehow), and V helped pick out. Feli and Angel gave pointers for your make-up. Luca and Misaki was demanding photos, since they got a look at you, because you had to show your face for Angel to help with your make-up. You had a blast. And honestly, you felt they became older siblings to you.

Since your secret was out, V helped with pointers with your assignments from your class. Angel loved helping with your outfits or just to vent. Luca and Feli didn’t change much, same as Misaki, they just teased you when they had the chance, like older siblings. Ronin warmed up a bit, making sure you were taking care of yourself, with a bit of Angel’s help. Truly, did you expect this? Nope, you expected to be six feet down, not having a family in a random server you stumbled to.

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