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endursent · 4 hours ago

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My Partner Turned Into A Cat And I Don't Know How To Fix It (4)

【 content; established relationship , fluff , humour , slight shenanigans , gn!reader 】

【 characters; alhaitham , arataki itto , baizhu , cyno , dainsleif , diluc , kaedehara kazuha , kaeya , kamisato ayato , kaveh , neuvillette , tartaglia , thoma , venti , wanderer , wriothesley , xiao , zhongli 】

【 premise; " You have been struck with a curse of some sort which has turned you into a cat, your partner has no idea how to fix it nor how long it might take. Yet he also cannot help but be rather amused by the situation despite the uncertainty…" 】

【 note; im sorry. this is so long... lol. 】

【 word count; 11.150 | read on ao3 | hsr reader ver | gi his ver | hsr his ver 】

Alhaitham;

He usually wouldn’t allow pets in the house… not because he dislikes them—Alhaitham simply wouldn’t want to have to clean up the hairs that fall off you after moving between every spot you lie down in.

Nevertheless… here he is, with a brush in hand as he tries to get it out of the sheets. You sit next to him apologetically (getting more hairs into the same sheet where you’re currently sitting, of course) and watch as he scoops it into a small bag. Alhaitham sets the bag aside and picks you up easily with one hand, his large palm lifting under your tummy and plopping you back down on his lap as he turns back to brushing your hairs away.

Feeling eyes on himself, Alhaitham looks down to see your large, round cat-eyes looking up at him, tail swaying.

He put you in his lap—doesn’t that mean it’s petting time?

Where’s your damn attention?

Slightly exasperated, Alhaitham tries to multitask and pet you while he's scooping your hair—but more keeps tossing around with every upstroke of your thick fur… why did you have to turn into a hairball? Couldn’t you have been a hairless cat? He’s almost tempted to just put you in the bag.

He’s a respectable “pet owner”, but does lack in one aspect that’s quite important to you, at least… perhaps not all cats

No kisses??

You’d at least like some on your head—he doesn’t have to kiss your nose or anything. Though you shouldn’t be surprised, Alhaitham isn’t very forthcoming with his affections and most of your casual kisses are by your initiation and his response to it.

So now you have to effectively smush your furry little head into his face to communicate that you want kisses.

It takes him a few tries to understand what you need, but thankfully he got it rather easily, smart lad.

Kaveh sometimes catnaps (kidnaps) you for… cat naps. He says it’s nicer than hugging his own pillow—and you don’t particularly mind, but Alhaitham does. Once he can’t find you after a general sweep of the house he figures Kaveh took you again and like a seasoned thief, swaps you out with a pillow while the architect is asleep.

“Hmph… he should get his own cat,” Alhaitham says to himself after shutting the door quietly, holding you like a baby in his arms, your paws in the air. He looks down, grey hair tilting over his eyes as he smiles only slightly. “What? You are my cat. Perhaps I should call you kitty from now on, even after you’ve changed back.”

You tried to climb onto the back of the chain in the study when Alhaitham was doing some studies once, but quicker than you could react—even with these new cat reflexes—he grabs you by the scruff of your neck and hoists you off. “You’re scratching the furniture,” he moves you from the back of the chair and plops you down on his lap. “Do refrain from doing that.”

Hmph. You wanted to bite his hair a bit… it smells nice. But fine. Lap it is, you can settle for that.

It takes you about two and a half minutes not to be satisfied with that, and lounge over his book instead, hoping he’ll stop and pay attention to you instead. You have a feeling he would do the same if he were in your position.

Alhaitham seems annoyed for a few seconds, but he only needs to stare into your big, cute cat-eyes for a few seconds to fold. What can he do? It doesn’t take much for you already to rope him into whatever shenanigans the day brings, and especially not like this.

Arataki Itto;

You just wanted a nice, cool nap.

It’s hot as balls in Inazuma, and you found an excellent spot under a slanted roof. You got comfortable and were half asleep already when you’re suddenly dragged off the crate and raised in the air like a divine heir.

Flailing in protest, your screaming of; “PUT ME DOWN YOU OAF” isn’t translated very well into frantic meows and hisses.

And of course, Itto has no idea what you’re trying to communicate—in fact, he thinks you’re just a bit surprised yet happy to see him. He sets you on his shoulder and you hold on for dear life. He’s broad, but broad muscles are also rather round and his outfit isn’t easy to grab onto—you just thank feline evolution that you have good balance and can hold yourself somewhat steady.

He sometimes just parades you around on his head like a strange hat, he doesn’t even seem to mind the death grip you have on his scalp.

Best naps, laying out in the grass on a warm summer’s day as the bright rays of the sun shine down on you. It’s comfortably warm, your fur keeps you cool enough that you don’t get lightheaded—despite popular belief, Itto is not a snorer, but he is a hugger.

You’re caged against his broad chest and there’s little escape or ways to wake him without scratching, biting or wailing like you’re trapped under a boulder.

Itto is a seasoned pet owner, he has multiple beetles that he takes good care of and thus he’s surprisingly adept at handling you. He doesn’t toss you around (except to put you on his shoulders or head) and doesn’t lock you out of the house or forget to feed you. In fact, you’d say he’s a top-notch owner, though you might be slightly biased.

The summer days are warm in Inazuma, and sometimes one just needs to do something to keep their mind off of the heat. Even with your coat protecting you from most of it, even you are starting to get dazed by the sharp, overbearing heat of the sun. And Itto is also very good at filling empty time.

He takes you out to the beach, though it wasn’t the best idea—he thought it was genius, the ocean is cool enough, there are not many around on the eastern beaches because of the awkward positioning and further distance from the city… but he didn’t take it into account that you absolutely refuse to get in the water, and there’s no shade. So that idea gets abandoned quickly.

For some reason he loves to touch your nose; poke it, kiss it, rub it… anything. And every time he does, you have to wet it again—it almost becomes a funny game to him to touch your nose and watch as your tongue darts out to wet it again.

Being unable to communicate with you isn’t a problem, he’s a yapper and can talk enough for the two of you. You try to meow along in response to show that you’re listening, but even if there was no brain behind your eyes, he’d still talk your ears off.

He creates a makeshift cat-bed for you out of some blankets and cushions, Itto was rather proud of himself for the craft that went into making it as soft as it is…

It still always ends up with you on his chest or legs at the end of the night. Without exception.

Baizhu;

He really scratches his head over this situation, how did this happen to you? You had gone out to deliver some medicine to those who aren’t well enough or mobile to come fetch it themselves, and had stayed out far longer than usual—Baizhu had started to worry and nearly had gone to look for you… when a cat with your eyes and mannerisms stumbles into the pharmacy meowing up a storm trying to explain itself.

Distressed, confused and much smaller than you’re used to being, Baizhu quickly scoops you up into his arms to calm you down. “Do not worry, I recognise you,” he assures—he feels a little silly saying this to a cat, and has a twinge in the back of his mind that he might be wrong. But the way you’re waving your paw is strangely… human, though muddled by the restrictions of your cat-joints.

Changsheng however, finds this HILARIOUS. She unwinds a bit from Baizhu’s shoulders and nearly bumps snouts with you as she wonders whether you were even fully aware of yourself, and after some arguing—in the form of loud yowling and meowing—they concluded that yes, your mind is well.

Baizhu tries everything he can think of, but he’s never really encountered a situation like this before and he has to use a lot of his attention to theory-crafting and tests.

The only thing that made a difference, was that one concoction he crafted made your ears twice larger… but it didn’t change you back. So now you just have unnaturally large ears for a cat.

He smiles sheepishly as he examines you to make sure nothing else is affected. “Ah… apologies, my dear. I don’t mean to laugh… but the ears,” he tries his best not to smile too widely, or give a soft laugh. But it’s difficult, you look so disproportionate it’s just adorable.

Despite your grievance over your proportions, Baizhu can’t help but rub your ears and scratch behind them. He gives you some good treats as an apology. You reluctantly accept.

Unfortunately, Baizhu has a job to do and can’t just close the pharmacy off from his assistance to tend to you. He multitasks as much as he can, but there are scheduled appointments to be present for.

But he has a good idea of how to utilise you, after all, you’re the usual deliverer—customers likely won’t mind if you’re cat-sized.

Thus, he gets some help from contacts and a day later you have a fancy harness with a delivery box on your back. Baizhu sets some medicine in it and fastens it properly so it won’t slip off and you don’t feel too constrained… and sets you on your way.

You were getting bored lounging around in the pharmacy anyway, so you revel in getting to stretch your legs a bit. You make the deliveries in record time, able to get through tiny crevices you weren’t able to before and hope through shortcuts you didn’t even know about.

As you return to the pharmacy after the final run, Baizhu smiles and kneels down in front of you, removing the harness and scratching where the lines of it had pressed against your fur. The nice feeling of being pet brings a rumbling purr from your chest and your tail sways happily as he gives you some water to drink and attention.

“Good work today,” he strokes between your large ears and rubs his thumb on your cheek. “It’s almost time to close up, let’s go upstairs and continue trying to figure out how to turn you back.”

The soft ambient light of the room and the sound of Baizhu’s brush stroking against the paper of a scroll makes you much more tired than you expected. You lay curled up on the desk against the wall where he sits and writes formulas and theories, Changsheng slithers up next to you and bundles herself on your back—it’s not particularly comfortable, but you’re too lazy to move, and it’s kind of cute.

Baizhu hums to himself and looks at you, his gaze lingers for only a short time before returning to the scroll in front of him.

Cyno;

He stares at the cat in Tighnari’s hands, his eyes look up to the man holding you and then back down. “What.”

The ranger deadpans and plops you into his arms. “I’ve been scouring the library for days while you were in the desert, I don’t know what happened, but it’s just how they are right now.”

Cyno lifts you up by holding your torso under your front legs, he peers at your face as you dangle like an idiot but have no way to really wriggle away. “Blink twice if it’s really you.”

You blink twice.

“Huh,” he just makes a sound of affirmation, then tucks you under his arm. “Thank you, I’ll take it from here.”

Tighnari stares at him, unimpressed by his lack of reaction to the fact that his partner is currently a small, furry cat. “You're not going to ask where I found them, how I know it’s them or how my progress is going when it comes to turning them back?”

Cyno is silent for a beat before he speaks again. “I know it’s them, I know their eyes.”

Somehow, the duty of getting you back to normal remained on Tighnari’s back, and Cyno sets you down on the dining table in your shared home. He folds his arms over his chest and analyses you, it’s a little awkward—you’re not sure why he’s staring so intensely at you.

“This is… quite the cat-astrophe—”

Oh no.

You have no way to stop him, and though you usually let him get it out of his system once he feels the need… you could also stop him once it gets out of hand. In this form, you’re effectively defenceless and unable to protest in any meaningful ways.

Thankfully, he does stop after you dive under your bed and hide for ten minutes in hopes he won’t drag you back and perform stand-up for you for the rest of the night.

Once Cyno is assured this strange transformation isn’t dangerous nor necessarily permanent, he’s rather laid back about it. He finds it quite funny (evidently) and there’s no way around it, you’re cute like this. Not that he didn’t consider you cute before, but it’s especially unavoidable now.

There’s no real way to stop him from making jokes or puns about this situation, it’s in his soul—and though you wouldn’t trade his soul for the world, you get moments of temptation when his brain hyperfocuses on one thing to centre his jokes around.

They get a bit tired.

You follow him around everywhere, it’s not like you’ve got better places to be. He thinks it’s rather adorable to see you trotting around at his heels as he walks through the city, though he tells you to remain home when he has work to do—it can turn dangerous sometimes, depending on the day, and he recognises that your body is smaller and more fragile than it used to be.

He does always come back right away, he wraps up any follow-ups and paperwork as quickly as he can—if only for the moments of arrival. Of opening the front door and being greeted by you sitting at the entrance of your home, staring up at him with a swaying tail. Waiting excitedly.

Dainsleif;

You’ve never seen this expression on his face, in the moments after you touched a strange-looking artefact, there’s a poof—and your body shifts to that of a small cat. It wasn’t painful, nor do you feel as if you were cursed in any way.

“... meow?”

Dainsleif stares at you, lips parted slightly, he’s positioned with one foot forward as he had been in the process of rushing towards you to hopefully stop you from touching what you shouldn’t… but he was a tad late.

He straightens and takes a breath. Okay… from one mystery to another.

He approaches you and picks you up—a bit awkwardly, as if he doesn’t know how to hold a cat—and you’re too confused and disoriented as to what just happened to process you being turned back towards the round artefact. Dainsleif takes your front right paw and makes you touch the artefact again.

Nothing. No glow, no poofing.

There goes his only idea.

The following days were confusing and mildly frustrating. It’s been a while since Dainsleif traveled alone, and though he isn’t technically alone—you’re still there, it doesn’t feel the same. He’s quite struck with the confrontation that he’s become very accustomed to your presence and how much he’s come to rely on it.

He’s a bit quiet and distant from you for a few days, while it makes you sad—if anything, you should be the one who needs comforting—you do try to slowly approach, you know that he can run the danger of isolation.

After starting a flame one evening in the alcove of a cave beneath a bright starry sky, Dainsleif sits down to rest for the night. You walk over with slow steps, careful and quiet, before sitting down next to him.

Far enough that you’re not touching, not even your tail… but close enough to be present.

His eyes slide towards you, and his head follows. “... what is it?”

“Meow.”

His eyelids squint, unsure what to make of your reply. Your answers always make sense to him… but what can he decipher from your feline face? The only familiar part of you is your eyes, shining under the light from the flames. “I see.”

You doubt he deciphered any meaning from your meows, but he’s engaging with you now. Progress.

Trying your luck, you move closer. He stays as he is, watching you closely.

You move closer yet, your tail touches his coat.

Dainsleif sighs.

You stop.

He can’t particularly feel your presence, not yours—but there is a presence next to him. It is yours, despite the fact he can’t sense it… and perhaps one day, were he to outlive you as if likely, he will have to find your presence in something you’re not.

And though you are this weird-looking cat, somewhere between a sentient human being and a feline animal, you’re still you.

The same, those same eyes, the very same gaze and mind.

He reaches out and sets his palm onto your furry head. Dainsleif pets your head slowly, and you nuzzle into his hand. You sit in silence before the swaying flames.

Diluc;

He can’t help but think that you might’ve done this on purpose.

Diluc has been very busy the last weeks he’s been coming back home to the winery late, leaving early—getting up in the middle of the night and waking you up when he goes out for his Darknight hero duties—and though you rescheduled it for next week, missed a dinner in the city that had been booked in advance.

He does feel bad, Diluc wants to spend all the time he can with you, all his free time and more—but with the winter months drifting by, business in the winery booms as people stock up on wine for the holidays. Businesses buy in bulk for holiday menu changes, and such.

And now, after hurrying back home when he was contacted that “something had happened” to you… he’s standing in front of a cat.

He thought you might’ve been hurt, or sick—he had run so fast his hair was loosening from his usual tail.

And while you’re not hurt or sick, you are… different. Something definitely happened.

He sits down and you climb onto his lap, sitting down and pawing at his chest, small meows leaving your small mouth. Diluc strokes your back and ruffles your fur with both hands. “How did this happen?” he knows you can’t answer him, but he can’t help but ask anyway.

You rise up on your hind legs, front paws on his chest as you lick and wet his cheeks. Diluc’s eyes close and his face scrunches up. “H-hey, stop that,” he puts his hands around your torso and holds you away from his face, your little tongue bleping down out of your mouth.

A smile tugs on his lips at the cute expression.

He still has to attend to his job, but while he usually handles most things himself, Diluc does accept help from his staff now that you’re… like this. So now he has more time for you, which isn’t exactly how he intended to spend that free time—searching for ways to turn you back, and having you loafing on his lap and being unable to stand up and fetch his coffee.

He’s not going to move while you’re so comfortable… he wouldn’t do that even if you weren’t a cat.

Not the biggest fan of the hair you leave around you, he needs to wipe his clothes thoroughly after you’ve so much as looked in his direction.

You get so much attention around the winery it’s not even funny, every employee pets you, gives you treats and treat you like you’re more of a royal cat than just a normal person turned into one.

Diluc came home one evening to see you loafing on the sofa, a shiny bow tied around your neck and a bowl of treats next to you… in reach for whenever you wanted it.

He had a conversation with the staff about making sure you don’t eat so much that your stomach will hurt… and that maybe not make you get too comfortable like this, he wants to turn you back to normal after all.

Kaedehara Kazhua;

He thinks it’s adorable, Kazuha is a rather laid-back person overall, and he’s certain you’ll be okay—so why not have fun while you’re like this?

It started all fun and games when on land, Inazuma is filled to the brim with foods that cats would love, every shop has some form of fish or vegetables that Kazuha can share with you…

But as soon as you go out on the open ocean, it’s over.

Kazuha has never seen you so violently unhappy on the ship, every rock of it makes you yowl and dig your claws into whatever you’re standing on, be it a crate, table, bed or Kazuha’s clothes (you ruined two pants, but he doesn’t particularly mind).

You have an irrational (or very rational) fear that you might be tossed off the ship and into the ocean at the slightest dip of the deck. Kazuha does his best to calm you and comfort you, he even offers to make a harness and leash for you so that he can yoink you back if you happen to fall overboard.

You don’t find his idea as funny as Beidou does.

Thankfully, you don’t get tossed overboard you don’t spontaneously die or have any other terrible event happen to you—and you’re so thankful to touch land that you hop off the side of the ship and to the harbour the ship docked by before it can even properly be tied down by the dockworkers.

Kazuha leans over the railing of the ship and calls your name, a bit worried—he hopes you don’t get lost before he can catch up to you.

It takes a while for the ship to dock and open up for people to leave, Kazuha convinces another person on the ship to take his duties for a while as he rushes out to find you. He’s not worried you might get yourself in trouble—you’re rather good at keeping out of it, but he doesn’t want you to get lost or have to spend all day looking for you.

Even though that’s kind of what he’s starting to do right now…

Kazuha shoulders past the crowd in the busy markets of Port Ormos, it’s early noon and it’s starting to fill up. The Crux has stocked up here often before and thus the both of you are quite familiar with it, but the winding streets and large crowds filling the markets can make it disorienting for even seasoned visitors.

After looking around for longer than he cared for, Kazuha finally spots your tail disappearing behind a corner.

Kazuha picks up his pace and somehow manages to catch up to you, perhaps the soft breeze is on his side, as he swoops up next to you and scoops you up into his arms.

He smiles, ducking out of the crowds and into a small alley where some crates are stored for the market stalls. “No need to run away, you’re safe on land now,” he holds you like a baby, your paws in the air as his arm holds your back steadily. “Though you are also very safe on the ship, I won’t let you fall overboard.”

You meow gently, Kazuha isn’t sure if you’re thanking him or expressing concerns… but the way you look up at him in this position is pretty cute. “Let’s find some good food, hm?”

Kaeya;

Funniest shit he’s seen all year.

Kaeya tries not to look like he’s very happy this happened—so long as he knows it’s not dangerous or permanent—or that watching you lick yourself to clean your fur isn’t very amusing.

He brings you everywhere, lets you follow him around and even holds you and lets passersby pet you…

Kaeya is just straight-up treating you like a real cat.

At this realisation, that he was acting like you were a pet, and not his very real (though cat-like for now) partner and previous human… you got angry! you wriggled in his grasp, surprising him and causing Kaeya to almost drop you—he righted his hold and blinked at you with a confused expression. “What is it? Did I hold you wrong?”

A series of angry meows and swats of your paw later, Kaeya was none the wiser.

He tried to bait you to “forgive” him with some nicely cut fish… and it kind of worked, that was some good fish.

Kaeya sits by the table you’re on as you gobble down the fish he bought you, he leans on his fist with a smile and watches as you lick your muzzle after getting fishy-oil on it and shake yourself when you accidentally dip your whiskers into the water next to the plate.

The sun almost makes it seem like your fur shines and sparkles under it and as you sit down, belly full and satisfied, Kaeya reaches out and scratches behind your ears. “Did you take behavioural classes before this? To behave like a real cat? You’re really nailing it.”

You make a huffed sound, but reach your head further into his hand.

He tries to get you to play with toys, he buys a stick with a bundle of feathers on the end in hopes that you’ll chase it when he dangles it in front of you… but when he sat down with you on the floor of your shared home and dangled it in front of you…

You stared at him as if he had just grown three additional heads.

Kaeya pouts, he wriggles it a bit—and though you follow it around with your head, you still sit where you are and don’t move.

Not until he lowered the toy and the feathered end touched the floor.

You pounced onto it.

Kaeya pauses, blinking at you in surprise. You look up like you got caught with your hand in a cookie jar.

And then he just laughs, he wriggles the toy again and you swat at it in frustration for making you leap at it like that, you’re not a real cat!!

Kamisato Ayato;

He doesn’t leave you alone.

You’re trotting along the engawa of the estate on your way to find a nice spot to nap—and suddenly, you’re swooped up into his arms. Ayato smiles and strokes your head. “There you are, my dear. I was searching for you,” he hums and turns around to walk into the estate.

Ayato spends about half the day—and sometimes more—in his study tending to paperwork of many kinds. Unusually, you would lend a hand and help with the neverending piles on his desk, but you’re little help like this… still, he demands that you “lend your paw” and sit on his lap the entire time.

It was nice at first, he’s got a nice lap to lay or loaf on, and he would scratch you in spots you couldn’t reach yourself, or just stroke your back… but after five hours, you really want to stretch your legs. So, you squeeze out from under his arm and stretch next to him, letting out a big yawn—only to find a finger poking your tongue?!

The bastard actually stuck his finger in your mouth when you yawned. Ayato smiled, all smug and somehow innocent at the same time. You meowed in disapproval, but it went straight over his head, as if he had any idea as to what you had just said to him, insult or not.

He also keeps pinching your toe beans, sometimes making your claws stretch out and then back in—even in the middle of the night, he rubbed your paws and stuck his finger between the beans. What is wrong with this guy.

Other than messing with you and pulling your leg, he does provide the best food and treats—as usual, you have the privilege of accessing the clan kitchens and being made food by them on a daily basis and it never fails to make you nearly cry with how good it is. And even now, as you sit next to his desk and his dinner is brought to him (even though you’ve tried to ask the staff to not bring it to him, and that he has to eat outside of his study or else his ass will get stuck to the floor) you are given your own tray of dishes as well.

Gobbling down the freshly made meals tailored to you even in this form, Ayato is happy that you seem to have a good appetite. He had been concerned that this… situation might stress you out and you wouldn’t be able to eat or sleep.

Despite his endless workload, Ayato somehow finds the time to pamper and take care of you between his busy schedule. He sits down with you in the gardens and brushes your fur, rubs your cheeks and kisses your nose (and you need to wet it again every time). As if you were a little fur baby for him to take care of.

He still talks to you as if you were as you always are, though Ayaka uses a baby-voice like one would use with a cat (she tries not to, but fails), Ayato speaks to you normally. He plucks the seeds out of a small cube of watermelon before feeding it to you as he recounts his day, humming in affirmation as you meow back about your own… he doesn’t understand it, but you need to get it out as well.

Your snout is practically pink by the end of the watermelon bowl, and Ayato gives you that smile… oh no.

“It’s been a few days now, and you ran around the garden yesterday… and now you’re covered in melon juice. Why don’t I ask Thoma to warm a bath to wash your fur?” he asks innocently, and watches in amusement as you shoot out of his lap and flee into the estate. Not a chance.

Kaveh;

Kaveh gapes at you. You stare up at him. He blinks. You blink.

“H-hah???!” he scoops you up—accidentally upside down, but you just flop in his arms, still blinking at him from your angle, you know he won’t drop you. Kaveh rights you and brings you nearly nose-to-nose as he stares into your eyes. “How did this happen? You were just—I was… this…”

He holds you a few centimetres away so neither of you go cross-eyed. “... Do you understand me?”

You nod and raise your paw, pressing it onto his cheek.

Kaveh doesn’t move his face away and lets your paw just press against his skin. “Okay, you’re… uh, aware… how do I fix this?”

“Meow.”

“...” right. Maybe this was a stupid question.

Kaveh goes a bit overboard, he researches the best ways to take care of a cat, the best foods, beds, toys—everything. And suddenly, he comes home after a short day at work (he has more important things to tend to!) with… so much stuff.

You stare, dumbfounded, as Kaveh carves out a cat-space in his and Alhaitham’s house… did he get Alhaitham’s permission to do this? You somehow doubt it.

After everything is set up, he stands and sets his hands on his hips with a wide smile. “What do you think?” Kaveh asks, looking down at you sitting by his feet with a swaying tail. “I think it fits very well, the colours compliment our living room—and I tried to arrange it in a way that mostly hugs the wall and doesn’t intercept with the flow of the room—”

He’s rambling again. You don’t mind when he gets going and his interior design skills ARE good, despite it not being his expertise, it goes hand in hand with architecture.

But… did he consult the other half of this house before doing this?

You found out quickly, you had just settled in the high cat-bed that hung on the wall, giving you a good view over the living room as well as a height advantage to him (now you get why cats enjoy the high ground)... when the front door opens and a very familiar Scribe enters.

Alhaitham wasn’t even aware that you had turned into a cat, to him… he just came home to see a random cat in the living room—and that it was arranged completely differently to give you space.

Thankfully Alhaitham has a good few brain cells to rub together between his fingers, and isn’t quick to rise, so he looked to Kaveh and tilted his head towards the kitchen… where they had a lengthy discussion, where Kaveh explained everything to him and asked him if it was okay…

Which is a tad late when he’s already rearranged the entire living room and gotten you comfortable there… but fine. So long as he takes it all down and makes everything as it should be once you’re back to normal. When asked, Alhaitham said he was too busy to help turn you back and told him to consult the library.

Kaveh is a hugger in his sleep, and you’re a victim (you love his hugs). He practically wraps himself around you and holds you to himself the entire night—and don’t you dare try to leave, he’ll wake up and whine about it. He does sometimes squeeze a bit too much—you’re not as durable as you usually are, you’re just a little kitty…

He gets cuteness aggression when you do anything mildly affectionate. Rub against his legs while he’s at his desk, loaf on his lap and slow blink up at him, lick his hand when he strokes your head… Kaveh tries his best not to squeeze you or shake you like a keychain, he bit into his own hand once to refrain from biting your full cheek of food once.

He drew a full sketchbook of you over the span of two weeks, he can’t help it—you’re too adorable and he wants to keep the image of you forever.

Neuvillette;

Not chill about this, Neuvillette was immediately concerned with how to turn you back and if this curse-spell could have any permanent effects on you. He doesn’t really have many tomes to consult, nor are there many people he could ask for advice as to… how to fix this.

After some time, and you rubbing your furry cheek on his arm and leg to try and calm down his nerves, Neuvillette does slow down. He’s usually very calm in the face of the unknown or danger—but he’s never had to deal with direct danger (or not, he hasn’t figured out if it’s dangerous or not yet) when it comes to you.

Thankfully, you’re still there with him, just… a bit smaller, and furrier… and you smell a bit weird—still like you, but also with a tinge of something else. Perhaps that part of your scent has always been your humanity.

And now you’re a cat.

He’s never owned a pet before—and you’re hardly a typical pet, and thus consults the only person he can think of. Furina (though he’s unsure she’s ever owned a pet either?).

And she loves you, she already likes you well enough—but like this? You’re getting picked up, petted, smooched, pampered and loved. Neuvillette just stands a bit awkwardly as Furina gets it out of her system and you get dangerously close to being fed up with her hugging and smooching… you’re not an actual cat! You just look like one!!

After being freed from her clutches, Neuvillette holds you with more dignity for a while until you feel safe enough to walk around the ex-Archon’s home (and won’t get swooped up again). When the initial chaos is over, he sits down with Furina and they put their heads together to try and find a solution to this. They write down how it happened, what exactly changed—your mind is the same, your scent as well as your eyes. Though your fur has turned a shimmering white regardless of your head and body hair colour before.

You look like a big snowball.

There’s no real conclusion to the first session of brainstorming, but they manage to narrow down that though neither was there to see what exactly happened, it was likely a spell, or perhaps an artefact you touched (where would that even happen inside Fontaine?) or something along those lines.

Thus, Neuvillette takes you back home for the night. He’s a bit stiff around you, he doesn’t interact much with animals and though he won’t avoid them if a cat approaches him on the street (he’d mostly greet and nod at them) he hasn’t exactly had to care for one before.

He has to rely on asking you yes or no questions that you can nod or shake your head to, and makes it through the first few days like that. And while you’re… cute? (He’s not entirely sure how to describe you) Nauvillette does much more prefer you in your normal state, where he can communicate with you, hold your hand and touch your cheek without getting sniffed at by a wet nose.

Not that Neuvillette doesn’t enjoy petting your fur and scratching under your chin, it’s just not the same.

It is very amusing to watch your head move left and right as you sit on the kitchen counter and watch Neuvillette prepare dinner—mostly for himself as you don’t eat typical foods now. He offers a small piece of a carrot and watches as you crunch on it for a good thirty seconds until it’s mushed enough to swallow.

Tartaglia;

Another situation of; the funniest shit he’s ever seen.

He brings you everywhere—Childe has no concept of ‘pet-free zone’ because you’re not his pet? You’re his partner? His beloved? Why is he being shooed out, you’re on a leash and everything (half chewed apart because you refuse to wear it with dignity and do all in your power to get free, how dare he put you on a LEASH).

Of course, initially, he was confused and rather concerned. He thought you might have been attacked, or targeted and thus had been made into this… cat, maliciously.

But you honestly seem pretty undisturbed, so he is as well. Calm cat, calm Childe.

He dresses you up before taking you outside—not necessarily for fun, but rather because it’s insanely cold in Snezhnaya in these months, and he doesn’t want you to be a block of ice after a few minutes. So he goes and buys some puffy coats, socks and a warm blanket for your return. You feel like you look like an idiot (you already look like a cat…) in all these clothes, but his cooing and smooching make it less annoying—mostly because now your annoyances are focused on him.

His siblings don’t really understand that it’s you, not at the younger range—and Childe just tells them that you’re a cat he and you decided to take care of for a while and that you’re busy elsewhere. Tonia doesn’t seem as convinced when Childe keeps smooching your nose and rubbing his cheek against yours.

Embarrassing enough as it is, Childe starts to call you nicknames now—it isn’t entirely unusual, but they’ve always been normal… now he’s calling you “Combat kitten” and “Fuzzy comrade”... worst of all was “General toebeans”

You wish you could tell him to stop, but all you have are meows and hisses.

Snezhnayan homes are made to withstand cold and harsh winds, and thus have excellent central heating systems… also known as a fireplace—and a furnace elsewhere. And curling up on some soft blankets or a plush chair by the furnace as snow gathers on the windowsill and winds brush against the exterior of the house… there are few places more comfortable to take a nap.

Unfortunately, Childe’s humming and singing from the kitchen disturbs your perfect peace, but you’re just glad he’s having fun. You’ll live.

And he brings you some treats, places a small kiss on top of your furry head and sits down in the other chair, dragging the one you’re on to be next to his so that he can stroke your back and belly when you eventually flop on your back for more attention.

He’s pulled every string and contact in the Fatui to try and figure how to turn you back (except a select few who will either be last measures or just straight avoidances despite advice they might give) but hasn’t had much luck so far. Thankfully you've only been stuck like this for a week or so, and thus it hasn’t been so long to be concerning.

Perhaps it’s just a matter of waiting it out, and Childe is surprisingly patient.

Thoma;

The Housekeeper stands in surprise as a cat is suddenly plopped into his arms. “Ah… is this… a new house pet…?” the Kamisato estate doesn’t exactly have pets, there are some cats that come around and nap in the gardens every now and then and leave after a while, but this cat is staring at him as if they’ve known him their entire life.

Ayato only hums as he’s already turned to another task, rushing from one thing to another as the busy days of summer come along. He doesn’t have much time to explain—nor is there much to explain. He had borrowed you for a few minutes to help him with something, he turns around for a moment, and the next you’re a cat.

Thoma stares at him, silent for a time. He’s not entirely sure if Ayato is messing with him or not—it’s entirely possible, and par for the course for his lord—but as Ayato shakes his head and waves his hand in dismissal, he speaks again. “I already have someone looking into it, take care of them in the meantime. I’ll have someone fetch you if there is news.”

You’re actually a cat.

After leaving Ayato’s study and sitting down outside where the afternoon sun has begun sinking towards the oceans beyond the cliff the estate sits on, Thoma stares at you as if he’s not entirely sure what to do with you.

Despite the initial confusion (and the followed concern, but it’s quickly dampened somewhat, Ayato has someone on the case and he trusts him to find a solution) Thoma is a very responsible person. He makes sure you’re not uncomfortable at all despite some estate staff vehemently refusing to let you in specific places… such as the kitchen. Fair enough. But there are also certain rooms and areas that have to be kept very clean and they don’t want cat hairs to get all over the place.

Thoma brings you around, he’s got many places to be, and he’s sure you’d like to stretch your legs anyway—it’s always nice to leave the estate for a few hours and run some errands. He had to head down to a nearby village and see whether trade agreements were coming along smoothly, they produce a lot of high quality rice and are often stuck in trade deals with large towns and clans for their rice—and for a well enough reason. Recently, Ayato had struck a deal with them and everything was signed and well along its way, Thoma just had to go and make sure they had everything they needed for transport.

It was a good walk, but you kept up easily… somehow having four legs rather than two makes you less tired after walking for some hours…? Or perhaps it’s because your body is so light now, you don’t know much about cat anatomy.

The meeting went well and you didn’t linger for long.

Unfortunately, a heavy downpour began to fall on the two of you as you headed back. Thoma quickly scooped you up and tucked you into his jacket—it’s not much of a jacket, it barely reaches below his ribs, but it was just big enough for him to cover you (and lean a bit to cover you better) and pick up his pace to run back to the Kamisato estate.

After making it back inside, the rain was as if a waterfall had opened in the heavens to drop down on the roof. Thoma’s hair is wet and sticks to his cheeks as he sets you down. “Ah, that was close,” he laughs softly. “Are you dry?”

You shake yourself after being pressed against his chest for so long and sniff around your fur, then give him a nod.

“Hah, that’s good, I’ve heard cats don’t like water much,” he smiles. “I need a change of clothes, come with me?”

You let out a happy meow and follow him along further inside.

Venti;

Cooes at you and talks to you with a baby-voice, he puts both thumbs on either side of your cheeks and rubs your face like it’s dough… even though it makes his nose red and his eyes puffy—despite the cursed allergy that torments his everyday life (there’s so many cats in Mondstadt) he doesn’t let it stop him from being around you. Pestering some healers for a medicine that could help, he feels… less bad, but it doesn’t really dampen the itch in his eyes and throat well enough.

He doesn’t take this situation seriously at all, at least not nearly as much as you do—you should probably trust his reactions and instincts, as he’s far more knowledgeable than you (even though he doesn’t act like it at all) and if you were in any danger, he wouldn’t be smooching your cheeks and nuzzling you like HE’S the cat.

Thus, you try to calm down, to focus on just getting through the days and not feel embarrassed when you have to clean yourself or relieve yourself as a cat.

But Venti also doesn’t make it easy for you, he builds a “throne” for you out of books and pillows for you to have the high ground (he doesn’t want to put holes in the wall for a hanging bed) and gives you “Mondstadt’s finest tuna” that tasted very much like a normal piece of tuna, but you appreciated the gesture nonetheless.

Sometimes you really wonder if he was the one who cursed you just so he could mess with you and cuddle you without you being able to fend him off. Not that you would be particularly opposed to cuddles in the first place? He could just ask?? Besides, why would he choose the form of a cat out of every other pet considering his consistent sneezing up a storm around them.

It doesn’t add up, you discard your theory.

You can’t sleep in the same bed anymore, both because Venti moves a lot in his sleep and being a cat does not make it safe, he could crush you! (as if he’s heavy enough to do that) and because he might well and truly pass away if he had to be so close to your furry-ass for such a pronged amount of time… and thus, Venti makes a nice bed for you out of blankets and pillows next to your usual one where you can rest.

There was a time where these new cat instincts took a bit too much over, and when you were chasing a crystalfly on a walk along the roads outside the city, you had hopped onto a big rock—and after missing your chance to catch the crystalfly, you hopped onto Venti and tried to eat his braids.

He yelped in surprise, but laughed once he realised what you were doing. “My hair isn’t for eating, it’s no good for your digestion either!”

You felt embarrassed about this little incident, and he kept making fun of you for it—though not necessarily maliciously, Venti just thought it was funny that you didn’t go for his hat, but his hair instead.

Climbing to the top of the Mondstadt cathedral or the statue of himself isn’t your favourite pastime, but it’s surprisingly much easier in this form—and thus when Venti suggests you go to the top to play some songs, you had been hesitant at first.

Making it to the top, Venti sits down comfortably as if he’s done it a thousand times (you sometimes suspect he climbs it to make you feel better, because you know he can just float up with a gust of wind) and pats his lap for you to sit down.

You plop yourself onto his thighs and settle comfortably as the sun sinks below the horizon, Venti takes out his usual lyre and tests a few tunes to ensure it’s properly set. “Let me play you something nice, it’ll help you sleep.”

And it is nice, your ears flick as his fingers dance along the harp’s strings, he hums along with it but doesn’t sing full words—the vibration of the song calms you and you rest your head on your paws.

Wanderer;

“You are the ugliest cat I’ve ever seen in my life.”

He’s being dramatic, you’re not that ugly… but…

Why did you have to turn into a hairless cat?

You feel strange, and perhaps you would also feel the same way if you had a lot of hair, but every single breeze makes you feel you are especially naked—because you are!

Wanderer isn’t exactly happy to have to take care of you—he will do it, of course, but he will also complain about it. You were perfectly independent and functional as a person before you just had to go and sniff some plant in the wild that poofed you into a cat before his very eyes.

He refuses to seek help to find out how to turn you back, not because he doesn’t want anyone to know that you’re a cat, but rather because he’s certain he can handle it himself.

You whack at his arm with your paw, meowing up a storm after a few hours of not being fed the day after—he had completely forgotten that he needs to prepare something digestible for you… he’s never had to take care of a creature like you before—what can you even eat?? He clicks his tongue. “Don’t swat at me like that. You’re human, act like it…”

You’re not human right now!! Give me food!!

Eventually, he does begin to take proper care of you, even though he keeps telling you that you look like a peeled potato… you don’t have many ways of retaliation except whacking him with your paw or hissing when he lightly pinches a big patch of your skin.

Surprisingly, during one strangely cold night when you were curled on the bed and trying to stay warm—even the slightest drop in temperature was very cold to your hairless body… you feel something soft drape over you. Half-asleep and cold, you squint up and scrunch your nose as your whiskers squish against the blanket, you see Wanderer turn back around after setting it over you. Hah… he’s soft under that hard shell as always, even if he tries to act aloof.

After several days of no luck in trying to turn you back, Wanderer does begin to cave to asking for some… advice. Not help. Advice.

With you in his arms, head reaching towards the market stalls of Sumeru city (literally everything smells good and extremely edible) as he passes by, Wanderer takes you to meet with Nahida who is rather enthusiastic about this mystery. She pets you and smiles, humming as he recounts what happened and describes the particular flower you smelled.

“Hm, I have an idea, but it’ll take a while to execute… do you think it’ll be okay for them to remain like this for a few more days?” the archon taps her chin in thought, mind swirling with ideas and possible solutions.

Wanderer huffs, not exactly a scoff, and clapped his hand onto your head. “It’s fine.”

But as soon as you returned back home and he set you down on the living room table, Wanderer points at you. “You better turn back to normal soon…” he folds his arms over his chest, his expression isn’t as tight as it was before. “I don’t want to deal with this forever. Just get back soon.”

You inch closer to him on the table, reaching your paw out to tug his sleeve closer—only to rub your head into his palm. He clicks his tongue. “Whatever… don’t think this counts as an apology. You’ll have to make up for it properly when you’re you again.”

Wriothesley;

You are, quite possibly, the smallest cat he has ever seen.

He holds you in the palm of his hand, it’s adorable. Wriothesley cracks a grin and lifts you to eye-level. “Hm, you’re not nearly as scary like this, no one in this prison will listen to you like this.”

You want to whack him on his nose, but politely refrain—if only because you don’t want to get dropped. You meow at him, ferocious and upset at this situation, you have a job to tend to! Things to do!

But Wriothesley has other ideas, he sets you down on his desk and sits down. “Now, how did this happen? I assume this wasn’t intentional?” is he teasing you? Most likely. He knows you can’t just answer his questions, and you assumed he would be slightly more concerned when a guard brought you to his office…

But no, he instantly recognised you and dismissed the guard. Had it been the eyes? The fur? Is he somehow responsible for this??

All unanswered questions, and though he sends out word to some people he thinks might be able to help decipher this mystery, he doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to get you back to normal. He sets you in the pocket of his vest (it’s embarrassing that you actually fit) and goes on with his days as normal.

Siegwinne was initially very concerned, she seemed much more sensible in her worries that leaving you in this form for too long might be dangerous and that the Fortress isn’t exactly a good place for pets. There are a lot of crevices to get stuck in and things to get hurt on.

Though you still retain your mind, so you should be alright in that sense… so long as you don’t get overly curious.

He is undeniably very warm, and cuddling up to him at night is very comfortable—especially now that you can just lay on his chest and snooze there and not worry about being dragged back into his embrace if you move too much in your sleep. You barely move at all in this form.

Come morning, Wriothesley was already awake by the time you open your eyes, he strokes your fur and scratches behind your ears. Having a day pass by does make the initially amusing situation a bit more… real. He doesn’t want you to be struck with a permanent curse, or some kind of spell that might harm you in the long run.

“Don’t you worry,” he mumbles, voice rough with sleep. “I’ll make sure you’re back to normal soon, just stick close by.”

And you do, mostly because you couldn’t have been blessed (cursed?) with a normal-sized cat body, but possibly the smallest there could be. You can’t even jump up onto his desk by yourself and have to yowl at him to let you up.

He does so happily, surprisingly eager to carry you around and help you with the smallest things.

Wriothesley doesn’t even change in mood from amusement when you chase the pen in his hands as it glides across paperwork he signs, you leap onto his arm and try to whack at the pet in either some strange instinctual haze, or an attempt to play—and though you whacking the pen makes it seem like he has the handwriting of a toddler, it’s just rather funny.

The Fortress doesn’t exactly have a large variety of foods, not in the sense that it can be adjusted for the diet of a cat that isn’t accounted for during inventory fills, and thus Wriothesley sends for specific ingredients that won’t be heavy on your tiny little stomach.

And he also… got some cat-related things delivered, like a bed, some string toys and treats. You never used the bed, either preferring his lap to nap on, or just slept in the strangest places he never even imagined you could reach with those stubby legs.

But he’s a very responsible caretaker, at least, that’s what he claims as he holds you down to brush your teeth and you wriggle and flail like an eel.

Xiao;

Very worried, he didn’t even realise the cat sitting in the clearing of the forest was you at first and searched for you for several minutes before seeming to realise that you had just… shrunk. Into a cat.

He stares at you for a good minute, lips parted and eyes large… before your name tentatively leaves his mouth.

You meow in affirmation, standing and shaking yourself as you try to understand the situation yourself—still a bit disoriented.

Xiao approaches you quickly and kneels down in front of you, he lifts you up to your hind legs, puts you down and inspects your ears, your tail and under your paws. You meow in curiosity as to what he is doing, and surprisingly he seems to understand your question.

“There might be traces of whatever did this on your body, it will make it easier to track or reverse,” he says and even checks inside your mouth, which you weren’t really happy with.

Unfortunately, he doesn’t find any answers, and kneels there rather awkwardly with you in front of him… what now? This situation has stumped him a bit—he’s supposed to be able to keep you safe from all manners of danger and curses like this (perhaps not exactly like this, he never prepared for this exact scenario) and now that he’s not got many leads to fix it, his mind is a bit aimless in where to search for information.

He has no idea how to care for you, and while he has vague ideas of the behaviours of animals…they mostly stem from wild animals and their reactions to foreign presences in their territories, or similar scenarios.

What does a meow mean? Is there something wrong? What does it mean when you paw at the door? Do you want to go outside? But it’s two in the morning?

He severely overestimates the portions of food you eat, giving you a full plate of something the Wangshu Inn kitchens prepared on his request (they figured out what happened and have been trying to help him, but Xiao is still trying to be subtle and secretive about the situation) and being confused when you only ate a fourth of it.

Are you sick? Was it the wrong kind of food?

He brings you along with him on his hunts, while he could leave you at the inn… how can he be sure that you won’t get into trouble? The window is high above the ground, what if you tumble out of it? What if you try to climb up on the dresser in the room and get stuck? Or fall down and hurt yourself?

No, you’re safest with him, even if he has to wield his spear with one hand and hold you with the other.

He’s surprisingly good at it too.

Desperate after a week of unsuccessful herbs and potions he tried to make, Xiao caves and contacts Liyue Harbour and the adepti that reside there for help.

It seems his message had gotten into Cloud Retainer’s hands, and instead of any actually helpful advice on how to turn you back… she had sent an entire booklet of cat behaviours, diets and how to take care of them.

Helpful, sure… but not exactly what he was asking for.

One evening as he was out on the usual hunts, he noticed that you were walking slowly by his side, yawning and rather cold so high in the mountains. He didn’t even have to think about what might be wrong or what to do, as he had already scooped you up into his arms and teleported back to the inn, where he sat down with you on the bed.

“You should tell me when you’re tired…” he grumbles and tugs one of the covers on the bed to his lap where he wraps it around you as if bundling a baby up. Xiao reaches up and scratches behind your ears as your eyes blink closed in the comfort of being back in the warm room.

He had only been petting you for s few seconds when he felt you… tremble? There was a strange rumbling sound coming from you, are you uncomfortable? He doesn’t quite understand it… but you continue to rumble as he scratches your head and ears.

Ah, was this the ‘purring’ he read about in one of the booklets Ganyu sent him? How… cute.

Zhongli;

“Ah…” Zhongli stares at you, this isn’t quite what he had imagined would happen… he had been crafting a potion in hopes it would help Ganyu sleep better, she had been overworking herself (again) more than usual and was so tired that she couldn’t sleep. It can happen.

The combination of herbs and materials required for the potion he had put together wasn’t very suitable for humans, and of course he made sure to let you know so that you wouldn’t drink it… but he hadn’t expected that only being touched by a single drop onto the back of your hand would lead to a poof, and your size being reduced and body turned to that of a cat.

You had only wanted to help by handing him ingredients so that he didn’t have to turn around so often… you didn’t anticipate this either!

He makes sure the potion won’t burn and sets a lid on the pot before turning towards you. “I… had not foreseen that this could have been a danger to you, my apologies,” he kneels down on one knee and holds his hand out for you to sniff. You do so, snout twitching towards his finger before you bump your head into his palm.

“Have you retained some sense of consciousness?” he wonders, gloved hand moving to stroke over your small head, your ears flattening under his palm. “I’m sure I can find a way to reverse this.”

He was sure, at least. But after some research and testing… he wasn’t making any progress—at least, he wasn’t making progress in finding ways to turn you to your normal self without some potential risks or aftereffects.

What he did find, was that the herb that you had been touching, and the potion he had halfway crafted was similar to another concoction that he had made before—and the effects of that had only been temporary.

It seems you will simply have to wait until the effect wears off.

Zhongli had instinctively prepared a delightful meal in the way he knows you would enjoy while you sit in the kitchen counter and watch with interest, your tail swaying happily as you watch him chop some vegetables and set them into the pot… but halfway through the process as he’s setting spices and herbs into the pot, Zhongli realises that more than half of the ingredients in the pot are unsuitable for cats to eat.

He finishes the meal and sets it aside, before fetching some fish you had purchased just yesterday that he was going to use for lunch tomorrow and cut it into nicely bite-sized pieces. You tilt your head slightly as you watch—the meal he had just been putting together doesn’t have any fish in it?? What’s it for?

And honestly, when he plated your food (in a very professional and presentable way) and set it down on the dining table, then set his own on the other side for himself… you felt a bit offended. Raw fish, some rice and a hard boiled egg… next to his delicious smelling beef stew…

If you could’ve cried, you would have. And Zhongli felt pretty bad for the rest of the day, he tried to offer you some “safe” treats or make it up to you with some pets and scritches, but you still sulked.

You had looked forward to this dinner all day…

Thankfully you got over it rather quickly and Zhongli is glad that he didn’t offend you too badly… it seems having been turned into a cat had made you quite dramatic as well, he doesn’t recall you ever having sulked like this over a meal before.

Knowing that it was simply a waiting game, Zhongli isn’t very concerned about your state, but he does ensure that you’re comfortable and not afraid—he understands that perceiving the world differently like this can be strange and even scary, but he’s glad when it seems that you’re relatively calm.

Your nightly routines are slightly out of whack now—something that Zhongli isn’t very fond of, he quite likes it that after cleaning up after dinner, the two of you settle in the living room for a while. He tends to read and it varies what you get up to, but it’s always a shared time where you sit in silence or chat about your days.

He does talk about his day to you, sitting on the comfortable seat in the living room with you on his lap, Zhongli recounts his day to you and expresses that he hopes you weren’t too bored alone in the home today, and that perhaps he can convince the director to allow him to bring you for a day. He strokes your back and smiles as a rumbling purr leaves you, he scratches under your chin and touches his forehead to yours as you seem to have fallen asleep on his lap. He reaches for his book and decides to read for a while before taking you to bed.

Despite the mishap, he’s glad you’re safe—he will endeavour to be more careful in the future and ensure you won’t be hurt or disturbed by his work.

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doeidawn · 1 day ago

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doeidawn's kinkmas day nine ❆ mirror sex

KINKMAS 2024 | PREVIOUS DAY | NEXT DAY

getting ready for a friend's christmas party turns out to be difficult when gaz keeps interrupting. 1.5k

❆ pairing: gaz x fem!reader

❆ tags: MDNI/18+; cheeky kyle; fingering; praise; watching yourself/mirror sex

“Kyle, darling, do I look alright?” You call out from the bathroom in hopes that your boyfriend was nearby to hear it. After one too many internal debates about how you looked, you decided it was best to call in the man who never got tired of looking at you. Granted, he’d say you looked good no matter what, but a little confidence boost wouldn’t hurt.

Especially not when you wanted to cringe at the anxiety in your gaze staring back at you in the mirror. Huffing a sigh and running your hands over your dress did little to soothe your raging nerves. It felt like being an insecure teenager all over again—Am I overdressed? Is this too much makeup? Will this still look good with a jacket? The internal monologue was never-ending and consistently annoying. All it did was eat up time that quickly ticked away as the Christmas party grew closer.

The soft patter of footsteps comes from the side before Kyle appears in your peripheral, standing in the doorway to the bathroom. You find his lack of response…odd. Unlike him. Looking over at him, you find his eyes looking at just about every part of you that wasn’t your face.

“Kyle,” you call out again, softer this time, hoping it’ll grab his attention. When he still doesn’t make eye contact, only humming in response as his gaze lingers on your chest, you relent. “Is this…okay? Do I look alright?”

That makes him look you in the eye. He stares at you for a moment before sauntering into the room. Wrapping an arm around your waist, he settles behind you, resting his head in the junction of your neck and shoulder. He holds your gaze in the mirror, soft brown eyes boring into you.

“Are you seein’ what I’m seein’?” He gestures vaguely to the reflections.

“I think so.”

“Then you should know you look fuckin’ gorgeous,” the last half of his sentence is muffled against your neck as he dips his head to plant a kiss on your soft skin. “You could rival a damn princess lookin’ like this, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t stop yourself from smiling. “Well, I don’t know about that. But thank you.”

“Well, I do.” His kisses turn heavier, wet flicks of his tongue, as his hands skirt down to your hips. “I almost don’t wanna leave now. I want my princess all to myself.”

“Kyle—”

“I know, I’m a selfish bastard aren’t I?” His teeth brush against the curve of your jaw, nipping playfully. “But I can’t help it when you look this good.”

“Going to the party was your idea,” you remind him with a playful nudge of your elbow. “I regret asking for your input. Go on, I need to finish getting ready.”

“...What else d’you need to do?”

“My hair’s a mess.” You gesture to your head like the thought is obvious. To you, it was. Though you had a tendency to nitpick your looks in time like these.

Kyle studies your reflection for a moment, an incredulous look on his face like he can’t figure out what else you could possibly do to your hair. “That’s fine,” he shrugs. “You can do your hair.”

But he doesn’t slip away like you’d intended him to do. Instead, he keeps his hands planted firmly on you, running them up and down your sides, trailing over your curves like he hasn’t touched them countless times before. You stand and wait for him to move away, but it never happens.

“Kyle.”

“Mm?”

“Are you gonna let me finish getting ready?”

“I am letting you finish.” He says it so matter-of-factly. “Go on and do your hair. I can keep my hands down here,” he emphasizes by groping a handful of your ass, “and stay out of your way.”

You didn’t believe that for one damn minute. Staying out of your way wasn’t possible when he got his hands on you. What would start out as innocent touches and “no, baby, we don’t have to fuck, just let me feel you up,” would turn into desperate sex in the blink of an eye. You weren’t very good at keeping yourself from getting distracted, and he was perfect at grabbing your attention.

…So maybe that’s why you didn’t question it when hands on your hips turned to one dipped beneath your dress. And why kisses on your neck turned to filthy words in your ear. You had barely done anything to your hair before he got you distracted.

“Ky’...” You whined while trying to keep yourself stood straight. “I need to finish up.”

His fingers ran over your slit, spreading you open as they glided through the slick arousal clinging to your skin. Your clit was already swollen and puffy from where he’d been teasing you while you tried to focus. His fingertips circle your entrance and you nearly feel your knees buckle underneath your.

“‘M not stoppin’ you, love.” He mutters against your temple before kissing the sweat on your brow.

“Yes you are…fuck, you’re teasin’ me like a bastard…”

“Not my fault you can’t focus.”

Your retort is interrupted by a shameless moan as his fingers slide inside you, embarrassingly easy thanks to how wet you were. You have to lean over the countertop to hold yourself up as your knees go weak. How the hell he didn’t find himself distracting was beyond you; burying his fingers to the knuckle inside you didn’t exactly help you get ready any quicker.

Looking in the mirror before you, you found Kyle practically studying your face. He watched the way your lips fell open and your eyes fluttered when he pushed deep. It’s almost like he was testing what reactions he could get out of you. Curling and twisting and pressing his fingers, he wanted to see you squirm.

He settles his chin on your shoulder, smiling when you lean your head against his. “Look at you, there’s my pretty girl,” the smooth softness of his voice makes your cunt flutter around his digits.

His lips hit your cheek in a soft peck, the complete opposite of the intensity in his eyes. You felt like he wanted to devour you, lil you’d never leave this bathroom again if he could have things his way. A Christmas party was the last thing on your mind despite still being dressed up for it. The more he touched you, the insistent pressure against that sweet spot deep in your cunt, the more you wanted to stay home with him.

“Fuck, you’re annoying, you know that?” You huff between moans. There’s no real bite to it, and he knows that—the tight hug of your slick walls around his fingers proved that plenty true.

Kyle chuckles in your ear. “Ah, you love it.” You did, but you’d never admit it. Especially not when you were trying to prove a point about wasting time. “Love it when I give my princess what she needs, huh?”

His fingers curl just right, focusing in on that spot that made you jerk on every thrust. Your mouth falls open in a gasp, knuckles white as you grip the edge of the counter to keep yourself steady. If it wasn’t for his hand supporting you, you might’ve stumbled on your weak legs. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, blown-out pupils staring back at you, painted lips stuck under teeth as you bite your lip.

“Yeah, look at yourself, baby.” His encouragement is enough to convince you despite how awkward it feels at first. “Look how pretty you are when you cum for me.”

You can feel his eyes on you, see him in your peripheral, his gaze branding you like an iron as he worked you over the edge. It was strange watching your mouth drop as a sharp moan poured from your throat, seeing your body quiver as you jerked into his hand. You couldn’t keep your eyes open long enough to watch your entire orgasm hit you, too overwhelmed by the constant fullness that sent sparks through your body.

Thankfully, Kyle seemed more concerned with making your pleasure last instead of policing where your eyes were. He battered that soft, sensitive spot, groaning in your ear when you soaked his hand in your cum. He kept himself pressed close, an arm wrapped around you to support your weight in case you needed it.

An almost smothering amount of kisses covered the side of your face, trailing from your temple to the curve of your neck. It was almost like he wanted to keep you distracted with the sensation as he slid his fingers out of you. A soft pat to your thigh and he’s pulling your dress back into place like nothing happened. You stare at your reflection for a moment, noticing the slight smudges of makeup where his lips brushed over your skin and the small red marks he left spackled along your neck.

“C’mon,” he sighs with one last kiss to your cheek. “We better get goin’. Don’t wanna keep anyone waiting, yeah?” He slinks out of the bathroom before you can catch your breath and respond. So much for looking nice.

#doeidawn's kinkmas #clown writes #cod smut #cod x reader #call of duty #cod #kyle gaz x reader #kyle gaz smut #kyle garrick #kyle gaz garrick #gaz garrick #gaz x reader #gaz mw2 #gaz cod #kyle garrick x reader #kyle garrick smut #kyle garrick cod

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ikkyfics · 2 days ago

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Beyond Words

Remus Lupin x fem!reader

Summary: “Tough day?” Remus asked, turning slightly to watch you more closely. You shrugged. “Kind of. Just… a lot of noise. I needed a little peace.” “Well, you came to the right place.”

Warnings: none

Masterlist

The night at Hogwarts was peaceful, except for the distant sound of conversations and laughter coming from the Gryffindor Common Room. After a particularly busy day, all you wanted was a moment of peace, away from the noise and distractions. So, you climbed the stairs toward the Astronomy Tower, where you knew you could find the silence you longed for.

When you opened the heavy door, the first thing you saw was a familiar silhouette sitting on one of the stone benches under the faint light of the stars. Remus Lupin. He was bent over a book, his brown hair falling softly over his forehead as his eyes scanned the pages. You paused for a moment, hesitating.

“If you’re going back to the noise down there, don’t even think about it,” he said without looking up from the book, but there was a playful smile in his voice.

You sighed lightly, crossing your arms. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t need to. I know you,” he replied, carefully closing the book and finally lifting his gaze to you. That warm, curious brown stare made your heart race every time. He smiled, the kind of smile that seemed reserved only for you. “Come here.”

Remus slid over to make room on the stone bench for you to sit. Despite your initial reluctance, you walked over to him, sitting down with a heavy sigh.

“Tough day?” he asked, turning slightly to watch you more closely.

You shrugged. “Kind of. Just… a lot of noise. I needed a little peace.”

“Well, you came to the right place,” he said softly, pulling something from his robe pocket. He held out his hand and, without saying anything, handed you a small piece of chocolate.

You raised an eyebrow, taking the treat. “You carry chocolate everywhere?”

“Of course,” he answered casually. “You never know when someone might need a little comfort.”

You chuckled softly, shaking your head, but accepted the chocolate gratefully. The sweet and comforting taste was exactly what you needed. Silence fell over you both again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. On the contrary, it was the kind of silence that only someone like Remus could make possible—a silence where you could simply exist.

He opened the book again, but his attention clearly wasn’t on the pages. He kept glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, as if studying you.

“You’re staring at me,” you commented without taking your eyes off the starry sky.

“It’s because you’re beautiful,” he said without hesitation.

You turned your face toward him, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. “You never get tired of saying that, do you?”

“To tell the truth? No,” he replied, smiling with that calm way of his that made it impossible to stay mad at him.

You shook your head, trying to hide how fast your heart was beating. He had this way of making even the simplest moments feel special, like they were just for the two of you.

After a while, Remus closed the book again and set it aside. He turned completely toward you, resting his elbow on his knee while propping his chin in his hand.

“Did you know that this is my favorite thing about you?”

You blinked, surprised. “What?”

“This,” he said, pointing slightly at you. “The way you can turn any place into something peaceful. Even if the day was a mess, even if I’m exhausted… you make everything seem easier.”

“Me?” you asked, incredulous.

“You,” he confirmed, his brown eyes shining with sincerity. “Even the silence with you feels special.”

For a moment, you couldn’t say anything. Not because you didn’t know how to respond, but because it seemed impossible to put into words how much he meant to you. He was everything—a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day, a constant in a world full of uncertainties.

“I… I like you too,” you finally said, your voice softer than you intended.

He smiled, the kind of smile that made the world seem lighter. “Well, that’s convenient, considering we’re dating.”

You huffed, trying to keep up the air of indignation, but the heat rising in your face and the corner of your mouth betraying a smile didn’t help at all. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“I hear that a lot,” he replied, tilting his head slightly, the playful tone softening his expression.

For a moment, you just stared at each other, the kind of silence that felt full of unspoken things, but things that didn’t need to be said. Then, before you could censor yourself, you let slip: “It’s just that you make everything seem so… easy.”

Remus raised an eyebrow, surprised. “Easy? Me?”

“Yes, you,” you repeated, feeling your face heat up even more. “You have this… thing. This way of making everything seem like it’s going to be fine. Even when it shouldn’t. It’s annoying.”

He laughed, that low, cozy laugh that seemed to fill the entire space. “I think that was the strangest compliment I’ve ever received.”

“It was sincere,” you shot back, looking at the sky to avoid his gaze. “And don’t get used to it. I don’t do this all the time.”

Remus didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he leaned a little closer until you finally turned to face him again. His brown eyes were shining, a mix of affection and something deeper that made your heart stumble.

“You know I adore you, right?” he said softly, the tone so sincere it almost hurt.

You tried to laugh, but the intensity of his words caught you off guard. “Are you sure about that?”

“I am,” he said without hesitation. “And I’ll keep saying it until you truly believe it.”

Without thinking, you leaned in, pressing a light kiss to his lips. It was brief, but sweet, the kind of gesture that said more than any words could. When you pulled back, you saw he was smiling again—that smile that was all his, soft and charming.

“Was that an argument?” he asked, the playful tone returning.

“Maybe,” you replied, trying to hide how nervous you were, but the smile on his face told you he knew.

He extended his hand, his fingers gently brushing against yours before holding them. The scars on his skin were rough, but the touch was gentle, almost reverent. You knew he didn’t like drawing attention to the marks, but to you, they were just another part of him—another thing to admire.

“You’re beautiful, you know?” he said, his eyes fixed on yours.

“Remus,” you murmured, feeling your face heat up again.

“I’m serious,” he insisted, intertwining his fingers with yours. “It’s not just the way you look at me, or how you can understand everything without me having to say anything. It’s how you pay attention to everything, like now. I see the way you look at me, and that… means more than you think.”

You swallowed hard, feeling a lump in your throat. “I… I just… really like you. A lot.”

He tilted his head, curious. “How much?”

You sighed, knowing you couldn’t escape. “Enough to think you deserve more than just this.”

Before he could respond, you moved closer again, holding his face in your hands. You ran your thumbs gently over the scars on his cheeks, looking at him with all the intensity you usually hid. “I really do adore you, Remus Lupin. Even the little, silly details.”

The surprise in his eyes lasted only a moment before it melted into something even softer. He held your hands, lightly kissing the palm of one of them. “Then we’re even.”

You laughed, but before you could say anything, he leaned in, kissing you with a sweetness that seemed to take all the air from your lungs. It wasn’t rushed or intense, but filled with a tenderness that said everything he felt.

When you pulled apart, he was still close, his forehead resting against yours. “You know there’s no turning back now, right? You’re stuck with me.”

“Am I?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, but you couldn’t stop the smile that escaped.

“Completely,” he replied, his smile matching yours.

And as you stayed there, tangled up in each other under the starlight, the world felt quieter, simpler—like nothing else mattered but the two of you.

#remus lupin #remus john lupin #remus john lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x y/n #no use of y/n #fanfiction #marauders era #remus x you #remus x reader #remus x y/n #fluffy #romance #ao3 writer #writers on tumblr

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sanjoongie · 3 days ago

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ᴠᴏᴅᴋᴀ ᴄʀᴀɴ & ᴏɪʟ ꜱᴘᴏᴛꜱ

💙For the Gunsmoke and Leather Collab hosted by @kpop-stories-21

💙Collab Masterlist | Prologue

💙Pairing: Oni! Park Seonghwa x nicknamed Reader! Nix (f)

💙Genre: smut

💙Au: supernatural au, biker gang au, demon au

💙Trope: s2l

💙Rating: 18+, MDNI

💙Word count: 3,881

💙Warnings: consuming alcohol {there is no drunk sex here, simply two adults drinking a few drinks and agreeing to some sloppy head}, oral (f&m), tugging horns {it turns seonghwa on}, ridged cockhead (oni cock), penetrative sex with no barrier, hair pulling (f), switch! hwa & reader, womb tattoo/curse, aftercare

💙Summary: when you and your friends find shelter in a local bar after your rented van breaks down, you find an odd bartender dressed as a biker who wants you to try 'the good stuff' in the back room

💙Divider by @cafekitsune

You drew up to the bar of the odd pub you had been forced into after the van your friends had rented breaking down. You wrinkled your nose at the bad luck. You craned your neck for Larissa or Aurora or Elara but couldn't see any of them. You sighed and then tapped your finger on the old wood.

“Can I get you anything?”

“Uhhhh…”

Your mouth stretched out the monosyllable in order for your brain to catch up. The man before you was tall, with his slicked-back, black hair. He didn’t look like he should be behind the bar, although everyone seemed to hire a good looking bartender. But his leather fit spoke of how he should be behind a bike rather than a bar.

“I can suggest something sweet, perhaps?” The bartender suggested with a quirk of his lips.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “I’ll have a Vodka Cran please.”

“Oh, a 'please'," The bartender snorted. " A human with manners, how cute.”

That was an odd turn of phrase.

You took your drink although you couldn't hold back a look of suspicion. The bartender squeezed his eyes shut and laughed. “Don’t worry, it’s as pure as a drink can be. Nothing is contaminating it.”

You still glanced a look of wariness but took a sip of the drink anyways. The crisp cranberry flowed over your tongue and the vodka warmed you up.

You turned to leave the bar and go find the booth Aries, Rhea, Eris and Calypso were occupying but a hand clasped around your wrist and halted you. You stared down and swore you saw a taloned hand but blinked and it was a perfectly human hand. You followed the arm it was attached to and found the bartender had stopped you.

The man swallowed visibly but pasted on a smile. “Drinks don’t leave the bar.” When you stared at him, he made a pleading face. “Please.”

You rolled your eyes and took another sip of the drink. “Fine.”

“You know…” The bartender leaned forward, the chain around his neck swinging forward slightly and drawing your eyes towards his chest. “They keep the good stuff in the back. If you want…” His eyes trailed towards a door, suggesting that was the direction of the alcohol he was talking about.

You stared at him like he grew two heads. “You want me to follow you to the back of a bar? A stranger? On the chance that you'll do what? Give me some illegal moonshine? I think not,” You scoffed.

“Awe, come on!” The bartender pressed. “I’m trustworthy!”

You tipped your head back and started to swallow the drink he had made you quickly. You needed to get away from this bar. You slammed the glass down when you were done and let out a gusty sigh. “I don’t even know your name, are you kidding me?”

You took one step forward, and then another, when your face met black cotton. “Seonghwa. My name is Seonghwa. Now that you know my name, we can go find the good stuff.”

“I don’t fucking--” You let out a squeal as the bartender grabbed your hand and started to tug you towards the door he had indicated earlier.

Seonghwa turned his head over his shoulder and sent a charming smile back at you. “It’ll be fun, I promise.”

You were sure you only ordered a single. Because surely the alcohol hadn't hit you yet? Otherwise, why did your heart just skip a beat?

You licked your lips. “Sure, let me just--”

You were pulled through a door before you could take one more look around to signal to someone where you were going. If the tow truck came, your friends would look for you at the bar but you wouldn’t be there.

Now, however, your back was against the closed door and Seonghwa was leaning over you. He had one arm braced beside your head. His smile was crooked and his eyes shone with merriment. You felt a shiver travel down your spine.

“Did you make me a double without asking me?” You demanded suddenly.

Seonghwa laughed under his breath. “No. Why? Are you feeling something?”

You put a hand on his chest and pushed him back. Well, you attempted to. The man was so solid, he didn’t move an inch. “Just show me where this so-called good stuff is, Seonghwa.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

You lifted an eyebrow at him. “Should I be feeling something?”

You could have sworn Seonghwa pouted for a moment before he spun on his booted heel and moved further into the backroom. You pushed off the door to follow him. You wrinkled your nose, the oily smell of machinery penetrating your olfactory senses.

Your paranoia overcame you again. You stopped walking but the backroom was so dark that Seonghwa’s form disappeared from your view. “I’ll wait right here for this so-called good stuff,” You insisted.

“Doesn’t your name signify the goddess of night? Are you really scared of a little darkness?” Seonghwa’s voice seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere.

You frowned. “I don’t remember telling you my name.” Perhaps he overheard one of your friends shouting it out.

The shadows peeled back and Seonghwa was back, a bottle and two small cups, both white porcelain, in hand. You blinked profusely. While your eyes adjusted, you could have sworn Seonghwa was donned in a loose robe and tattoos decorated his chest. However, when you shook your head, he was still in his biker gear.

You held up a hand as Seonghwa set down a cup on a box and poured you a drink. “Seriously. Seonghwa, now is the time to come clean. Why do I keep seeing things?”

“My control seems to be off tonight,” Seonghwa muttered under his breath.

The bartender poured himself a drink and then raised it in salute to you and shot it back. You admired the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he drank, along with his sharp jawline. You shook your head. You needed to keep your wits about you! Something was up.

You tentatively sipped the drink and Seonghwa chuckled. “Still don't trust me, huh?”

Seonghwa was right. The stuff from the stone bottle and tiny cup was clear and sweet and went down smoothly. It was the good stuff, however, the kind of good stuff that would get you drunk before you knew it.

“You’re not exactly acting normal, muttering under your breath and calling me ‘human’,” You reminded him.

Seonghwa laughed awkwardly. “You’re right.”

You nodded. “I usually am.” You blinked a few times. “Wait, I am? Does that mean you’ll tell me what’s going on?” You took a few steps forward, eager to finally hear the truth.

Seonghwa rubbed his lips together anxiously. “Promise you won’t scream?”

You leaned backwards. “What the hell question is that?”

Seonghwa winced. “It’s now or never, I guess.”

Between one blink and the next, Seonghwa changed. Horns grew and curled above his head. Tusks grew from his bottom jaw. Nails elongated into talons.

“What are you?” You whispered.

“I’m an Oni.”

“What the fuck?”

“Well at least you didn’t scream,” Seonghwa sighed.

You took a moment to drink in the changes. You walked around Seonghwa, studying his new features. “You’re kinda cool, you know?”

Seonghwa’s head whipped around to stare at you. “I am?”

“Yeah,” You offered a brief smile.

Seonghwa turned around and grabbed the bottle and two cups. “Do you want to keep drinking then?”

You turned your head towards the door you had entered. “My friends…”

“...are being taken care of, don’t you worry your pretty little head over that,” Seonghwa finished your sentence.

“Guess there’s worse ways to kill time,” You shrugged.

Seonghwa dove deeper into the backroom until he came across a bike. It was painted with a beautiful blue coat of paint. On the gas tank there was a flash of a katana and an oni mask on the other side.

“Is this yours?” You guessed since his leather matched the paint job.

Seonghwa nodded. He settled to sit on top of some boxes and poured up the two of you more drinks. “Needs a tune up but she’s mine.”

You laughed under your breath. “She, huh?”

Seonghwa’s face got a little pink. “Well, yeah. That’s what everyone calls their bikes. A she.”

You shook your head. “Well,” You mimicked him, “You aren’t everyone, are you?”

Seonghwa shot back his drink and offered you yours. “I suppose not.”

You shot back your drink, enjoying the smooth glide of the alcohol down your esophagus. “How old are you?” You wondered.

“Old,” Seonghwa mused. “Old enough to remember a time when your kind used to raise temples for my kind. Now we’re just featured in animations and sometimes costumes.”

You cocked your head curiously. “Did your horns hurt when they grew? Like growing pains for a teenage human?”

Seonghwa shot you a look of befuddlement. “No--I--What kind of question is that?”

You smiled. “I dunno, when else am I going to get to ask these questions?”

You pushed out your cup so that Seonghwa would top you up again. “Can I touch them?”

“My horns?!” Seonghwa squeaked.

You nodded. “Mmm!”

Seonghwa blinked profusely but lowered his head at your request. You set the cup down and licked your lips. Your fingers skimmed down the tip of one before you gripped both firmly in your hands. You realized your grave error when Seonghwa moaned. You let go immediately.

Seonghwa couldn't meet your gaze suddenly, lips pressed inward. “I need more to drink,” he whispered before pouring himself another cup and shooting that.

“I’m sorry,” You apologized sheepishly. “I didn’t know.”

“I did,” Seonghwa admitted.

“And you let me?” You felt your face scrunch up in confusion.

Seonghwa nodded, still not meeting your gaze. “I can’t remember the last time someone grabbed them like that.”

You put your hands on your hips. “Wait a damn minute, I don’t believe that for a second!”

Seonghwa finally raised his gaze to meet yours. “That no one would touch me?”

You felt goosebumps gather on your skin. “Yeah.”

Seonghwa stood up and slowly started to walk towards you. “Why’s that?”

“Because… you know… you’re… attractive…” You managed to stutter.

How did the oni who wouldn’t meet your gaze now suddenly stalk towards you like you were prey?

“Am I attractive to you?” Seonghwa wondered.

“You know. In like. An objective way,” You lamely elaborated. “Like, ‘ah yes, he’s handsome’. You know.”

“No I don’t know,” Seonghwa purred. “Tell me more.”

You swallowed loudly. What the fuck was this turn of events?

You waved your hands around vaguely as you talked. “Your eyes are pretty. And your lips are nice. You have a good body. And great hair. I…”

Your words died in your mouth as Seonghwa cupped your face and tipped it upwards. His eyes traversed your face, looking for something. His lips were quirked in a slight smile. “You?” he prompted.

“I’d fuck you,” You whispered daringly.

“Would you?” Seonghwa whispered back, tilting his head. His lips were a hair’s breadth from your own. “Would you fuck me?”

You giggled nervously. “Too much?”

“Just enough,” Seonghwa acknowledged before he pushed his lips to yours. You could feel his tusks against your cheeks and it made you shiver at the slight threat that he could probably, quite literally, eat you up.

Your hands tangled into his hair immediately, exchanging sloppy tongue enthusiastically. Seonghwa’s arms wound around your body, locking at the small of your back and pressing your body to his. You squealed when you felt something semi-hard pressing against your stomach.

Seonghwa broke the kiss. “You have no idea what grabbing my horns has done to me.”

Your mind swirled with ideas and it landed on one. “I could do it some more?”

Seonghwa’s eyes widened in excitement. “You could?”

You shrugged one shoulder coquettishly. “If you put them in reach, like say, with your head between my legs…”

“Oh you don’t have to ask me twice,” Seonghwa agreed willingly.

So that’s how you found an oni’s head between your thighs, his taloned thumbs spreading your outer lips while licking your folds. You balanced precariously on the seat of Seonghwa’s bike as he ate you out. As promised, you had a hand gripped around each one of Seonghwa’s horns.

His tongue seemed determined to lick up any drop of wetness that left your cunt. The tiny scraps of his tusks along your folds only upped the ante. You bucked your hips forward, eager and willing for all of the pleasure that Seonghwa was doling out.

The oni wasn’t doing too well himself. He was moaning wantonly the more you gripped and tugged on his horns. The irony that he was the one whining ‘please!’ didn’t go over your head.

You shoved his face further into your cunt and his muffled, happy noises let you know he was enjoying himself. You grinded into that tongue and those lips, searching out your high. “Unf, fuck, Seonghwa, that feels so good. Fuck, those tusks are hot too, oh my god, yessssss, right there baby, suck my clit, ugh!”

You let your head fall back and closed your eyes. Your feet were over Seonghwa’s shoulders now, hands still firm on his horns, guiding him to stay exactly where he was until your climax washed over you in a lost breath. You gasped and arched your back, drinking in the sensations. Seonghwa licked at your pussy until you whined at the overstimulation and then he sat back, settling your legs back to the floor.

His hair was mussed up and his lips were pink from pleasuring you. His eyes sparkled while his face was covered with your wetness. His tongue came out between his tusks and swiped along his chin, below his lips, and you let out a breathy laugh. Fuck, he truly was hot.

“My tusks are hot?” He wondered. “What kind of human are you?”

You felt your face heat up. “Shut up.”

Seonghwa rose, his thighs stretching the leather he was wearing. It creaked as he assumed his full height in front of you, still on the bike. “Thank you for that.”

“Did you just thank me for the privilege of giving me head?” You snorted.

Seonghwa scratched the back of his head and then when he realized the state of his hair, he bent down to view his reflection in the glossy paint of his bike. “No I…” He blew out some air through his plush lips. “I just haven’t felt that wanted in a long time. It was nice.”

“Seonghwa,” You said his name firmly to get his attention.

The oni finished fixing his hair and stood back up. “Yes?”

“I did say I’d fuck you,” You reminded him.

Seonghwa shifted on his feet, angling back towards you. “It was hypothetical.”

You laughed under your breath. “Was it?”

The shining hope in Seonghwa’s eyes was the final nail in the coffin. This knock-out, gorgeous creature must be used to humans rejecting his oni form but you only found it more attractive. Write you down as a monster fucker because you were about to be.

Still leaning back against Seonghwa’s bike, you gestured for him to come closer. Once his body was in arm’s reach, you palmed him through his leather pants. Seonghwa’s eyebrows furrowed as he let out a pained grunt.

“I can give you some relief,” You cooed at the oni.

“I want you so fucking bad,” Seonghwa hissed.

Dying to see what was under his pants, you quickly unzip him. Your mouth immediately filled with moisture. The damn oni had nothing under those leather pants, and he was long. The head of his cock had firm ridges rippling down from the slit to where the head ended. You were beyond curious of how that would feel pushing inside of you.

Seonghwa let out a strangled cry as you took him in your mouth immediately. You didn’t need the lubrication after coming, but you were sure it wouldn’t hurt. Besides, you couldn't resist your oral fixation for long. Even if he didn’t come, you wanted to remember the sensation of the oni’s dick in your mouth, for who knew when you’d get this chance again.

Seonghwa’s talons tangled into your hair, not pushing you down on him but needing something to hold on to. Your tongue swirled around his head, along his slit and followed the ridges on his head. Then you ducked down and attempted to take in his length. You struggled but that only got you more excited for when Seonghwa fucked you.

“Stop, stop, stop,” Seonghwa chanted, pulling you off of him. “I need to be inside of you.”

His cheeks were pink again and that made you grin. “Worried you might come quickly?”

Seonghwa’s lips quirked to the side in an unimpressed look. “Your mouth feels good but I don’t want a quick bj in the back of the bar.”

Your heart pitter-pattered again. As Seonghwa continued to be vulnerable with you, you felt more and more at ease in his presence.

Just to be cheeky, however, you pumped his length and giggled when he cried out. Then he growled, sending a streak of fear through your nerves. With one hand bracing on the bike, and the other on his cock, he found your lower lips and began to push inside of you. You wrapped both your legs and your arms around his body, embracing him fully.

Seonghwa wasn’t having any of that, however. His taloned hand wretched your head back, a fistful of your hair his anchor. You swallowed and mewled as he fucked you shallowly, opening you up for himself. Each pass of his ridged cockhead against your g-spot was fucking spectacular and you moaned wantonly at the sensation.

You pulled at Seonghwa’s leather jacket, pulling it down his shoulders, and revealing lovely blue tattoos that decorated his arms and shoulders, accentuated by his black tank top underneath. You longed to mouth at the art but Seonghwa had such a firm grip of your hair that you couldn't move your head.

The eye contact he was giving you as he fucked you was making your cunt clench down with need. This was exactly what you wanted; something rough and yet intimate.

“Fuuuuccckkkk,” Seonghwa groaned, at last being able to fully seat himself into you. “You feel so good.” The oni slanted his lips across yours again, unable to stop moaning at the feeling of you around him. He broke the kiss but kept his forehead pressed to yours, looking down at where the two of you were connected. “You’re taking me so well. Do you like it? Do you like an oni’s cock inside of you, Nix?”

You jerked upon hearing your name leaving Seonghwa’s lips. The juxtaposition of his dirty words and yet the romantic feeling of him saying your name made you cry out. “Yes, Seonghwa, yes. Feels so good, I’ve never--” You gasped as his ridged head once again passed over your g-spot. “I’ve never had a cock like--oh my gooooddddd--” You let out a whine. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop.”

You had to lock your legs around Seonghwa’s waist. Even with his other hand braced behind your ass on the seat of his motorcycle, the enthusiasm in which he fucked you was rocking your body and thus, the bike as well.

The grip of your hair slowly relaxed into cupping the back of your head, Seonghwa continuing to maintain that eye contact as he fucked you good. “Nix, I--”

You knew immediately what he was asking for. “You wanna come inside of me, sweet boy?” You cooed at him.

“Fuck, yes,” Seonghwa hissed, rolling hips between your legs.

“Fill me up,” You purred and Seonghwa moaned, rolling his eyes into the back of his head.

You two exchanged another sloppy kiss, full of tongue and moans and then Seonghwa stilled inside of you, his cock twitching as he released his cum. His taloned thumb rubbed circles into your clit, thrusting shallowly into you, and you came at last. You cried out, clenching around his length, gasping as pleasure lit up your nerves.

You both remained locked in pleasure, unable to stop kissing and prolonging just how great the sex had been. But when the both of you came down from your respective highs, Seonghwa looked at you, appearing part pleased and part bashful.

“Thank you,” He slurred, caught between a good tired and a great comedown.

“I didn’t expect that when our van broke down,” You couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the entire situation.

Seonghwa’s eyes flashed with a different emotion upon hearing your sentence, however. Still, he helped you clean up, as well as he could, and fixed your clothes.

“Before you leave…” The oni hovered a hand over your lower stomach and you watched in amazement as a bright pink tattoo shone through the fabric of your clothing. “Mine,” He growled possessively.

“Sir, what the fuck is that?” You demanded.

Seonghwa smiled, crooked and full of satisfaction. “You won’t be able to come unless it’s from my cock. It only lasts one full moon’s cycle, don’t worry.”

“Don’t worry?!” You screeched. “I just had the sweetest, roughest fuck of my life with an oni and you feel the need to curse me?”

Seonghwa’s eyes got big and wet. “It was the sweetest? Really?”

You groaned in frustration. “I thought I could trust you!”

Seonghwa’s big eyes watched you with trepidation. “You can!”

“Then why this?” You demanded, pointing at your lower stomach.

Seonghwa rubbed his foot absentmindedly into an oil stain on the floor. “Cuz I want you to come back.”

You rolled your eyes and sighed heavily. “Then why didn’t you ask me if I’d come back, you idiot?”

Seonghwa’s lower lip pushed past his tusks. Ever had the privilege of seeing an oni with tusks pout? “What if you said you would but you didn’t? This ensures you will.”

You grabbed one of Seonghwa’s horns roughly and brought your face close to his. Seonghwa flinched but his lips parted in compliance. “I’ll be back next week. Now, I’m going to find my friends.”

You twirled away but Seonghwa caught your wrist. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said.

“Now what?” You stomped in irritation.

Seonghwa pulled your body back to him and you allowed him to lock his arms behind the small of your back. “Because, they’re most likely engaged in the same way we were.”

“You mean there’s more of you?”

“Not like me, but creatures and monsters of myth and legend, yes,” Seonghwa informed you.

“Well that’s cool,” You allowed.

Seonghwa laughed under his breath, his shoulders shaking with the motion. “You certainly are a wonderful human, Nix.”

“Well, you’re not bad of a monster yourself,” You joked weakly.

“Demon,” Seonghwa corrected you.

You rolled your eyes but laid your head against his chest. “Whatever. Just take the compliment.”

Seonghwa’s taloned hand curled fondly over the curve of your head. “Thank you, Nix.”

“Pay me back in cool tales about the old days,” You murmured.

You closed your eyes, enjoying how Seonghwa’s voice rumbled from his chest.

“It would be my pleasure.”

#pirateeznet #lapydiariesnet #ateez smut #park seonghwa smut #atz smut #seonghwa smut #gunsmoke and leather #topaz's work #ღatz #recent

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perseephoneee · 1 day ago

Text

secret santa [ficmas day 12] [stiles stilinski x afab!reader]

↳ masterlist ↳ ship exchange ↳ taglist ↳ ficmas 2024

@mayfieldss: Since you're extending ficmas may I request stiles stilinski and secret santa plssssss

author's note: my boyfriend said that if teen wolf had modern slang it would be one of the worst things he'd ever watch

playlist:

buy me presents -- sabrina carpenter

christmas caller -- beach bunny

santa, can't you hear me -- kelly clarkson & ariana grande

"Why did Lydia think this was a good idea?" Stiles groaned, opening the 'Secret Santa email.' Scott was sitting on his bed doing homework while Stiles debated the merits of ignoring the email.

"Because she says this is cheaper than us all having to get gifts for each other."

Stiles ignored that comment and opened the email to receive his assignment. He could think of a few different ideas for the various people in his life. Scott was easy; they were best friends. Isaac could get an embroidered scarf that said, 'I'm bitter for no reason.' Derek could get a new personality, although Stiles didn't know how much that would cost.

He watched the wheel spin on the automated Secret Santa email, and against his best wishes, he got your name.

"No, no, no," Stiles kept trying to refresh the page, hoping for a different answer. Scott looked up in personality, getting off the bed to see his screen. He started laughing when he saw your name.

"You're screwed."

"This is awful!" Stiles spun around in his chair. "I can't get the girl I like a gift; she's going to hate it."

"Probably."

"Has anyone ever told you that you're not helpful?" Stiles looked at Scott, raising his brow. Scott patted him on the shoulder. Stiles hit his shoulder, and it quickly devolved into a wrestling match with Stiles in a headlock and Scott getting kicked in the face. Sheriff Stilinski entered a second later. He took one look at the scene and left a second later.

After Stiles lost in wrestling, they ended up at the mall. They agreed that it was the most likely place to find a gift. Scott had to shop for Isaac, which Stiles was weirdly envying at this moment.

"Okay, we're going to split up. Meet in an hour at the food court."

"For food?"

"Yes," Stiles sighed. "And to check progress."

"But also for food?" Scott questioned. "I've been craving a corndog."

"Scott, I need you to lock in," Stiles groaned. He had been staring out at the bright expanse of the mall and was already developing a migraine. "We have a mission."

"You have a mission," Scott nudged Stiles with his shoulder. "I'm doing fine."

"I really hate you," Stiles muttered as Scott took off towards whatever he smelled. Likely a pretzel. He was strangely food-motivated.

Stiles checked out Bath and Body Works first, but after feeling like he would pass out from the smells, he elected to leave. He wandered into a Brandy Melville and got offended by the sizing (or lack thereof). He then sat on a bench outside the darkest clothing store he'd ever seen. Just as Stiles wished for divine intervention, Lydia came into sight. She beelined over to him immediately.

"Do I want to know why you're here?" she asked, arms crossed. Stiles squinted up at her.

"Because of your stupid Secret Santa and my stupid assignment," Stiles said, sinking further into his bench. Lydia sat down next to him.

"You got Y/N, didn't you?"

"How–"

"I know things," Lydia pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. Stiles glared at her. She crossed her legs, looking over at Stiles. "I'm going to help you because you make me sad."

"Thanks."

"What have you thought of so far?"

Stiles pondered for a second.

"A sexy candle."

"Okay, I'm going to say no to that immediately," Lydia opened her purse, grabbed out a lipgloss, and reapplied it. Stiles had no idea why she needed to reapply it. "Let's go look around at a few places."

Stiles wished for Scott in that moment. Scott didn't stress him out to no end. Lydia dragged him to eleven different stores and shot down almost all of his ideas. He was ready to quit, move to a different state, and change his name in order to avoid disappointing you at Secret Santa. You were too important to him to disappoint. Right as Stiles' legs started hurting, he saw one store that gave him pause.

"I'm going in there," Stiles announced, ignoring Lydia's protests. It was a traditional gift store with various accessories, gag gifts, home decor, and more. He avoided the seasonal aisle and the stupid kitchen towels with quotes on them to make a beeline for the kids' section, specifically the stuffed animal section.

He saw a floppy Snoopy and pulled it off the top shelf. Stiles showed Lydia.

"What do you think?" Stiles asked. He was out of breath from his quick run into the store. "She loves Snoopy; she mentions it whenever there's a Snoopy thing."

Lydia smiled, taking the Snoopy from him. She gave it a few squishes for good measure.

"It's perfect; nice job, Stiles."

"Thank you," Stiles beamed. He tossed the Snoopy back and forth between his hands. "Who did you get for Secret Santa?"

"Derek."

"Just get him a new personality."

"I hope you know that both you and Y/N said that," Lydia rolled her eyes. Stiles grinned, moving to the cash register to buy his Snoopy. He paid a little extra to get it wrapped (he can't wrap it for his life) and skipped out of the store. Stiles pulled out his phone to check the time, guessing he should probably be catching back up with Scott. He, of course, ran into you at that exact moment.

Literally ran into it.

"Hey, Stiles," you laughed, catching him by the shoulders. His cheeks burned red as he saw who it was.

"Hey!" he grimaced. "What are you doing here?"

"Probably the same as you, Secret Santa shopping," you shrugged. He liked whatever you did with your hair today. However, Stiles has always loved whatever you did. You eyed the bag in his hand. "Did you get something already?"

"Yeah…I had help from Lydia," Stiles scratched the back of his neck.

"I'll see you around, Stilinski," you punched his shoulder, running off to who knows where. Stiles was still frozen in place a second later. He shook himself out of his stupor, immediately running to the food court to look for Scott.

Scott and Stiles showed up in matching ugly Christmas sweaters to Lydia's Secret Santa party. They were very proud that they found not one but two of them at Goodwill and felt it was a theme to show up in. Lydia was not amused.

She almost refused to let them in.

Stiles was excited to see that you were already there. You had on sparkly tights and a sweater dress, and Stiles was once again struck by the thought that you were the prettiest girl in the room. He suddenly felt very stupid in his sweater. You took notice as he approached.

"Oh, that's hilarious," you laughed, reading his top. It had all the reindeer decorating the tree on top of each other, saying 'Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, on top of Vixen.'

"That's what I thought. Lydia disagrees," Stiles sat down next to you. You curled up your legs underneath you.

"Lydia is stressed about the party."

"She throws the best parties; why is she stressed?" Stiles saw a platter of cookies out on the coffee table and took one for himself. He offered you half.

"Probably because you have to constantly be stressed to throw the best parties." You accepted half of his cookie.

"Touche."

Stiles was gleeful that he could talk to you until the present reveals started. Everyone else showed up, and at forty-five minutes past the hour, Lydia called everyone to attention to exchange gifts. Suddenly, Stiles felt very nervous.

It was easy for him to get caught up in everyone else's excitement and forget about his own doom, so when he received his gift (some nice plaid shirts from Allison), he got all clammy as he handed you yours. Your eyes lit up as you saw the bag.

"I knew it was for me," you whispered, recognizing the bag from the mall. Stiles shrugged, wringing his hands. You unwrapped it carefully and then let out a squeal of delight as you saw the Snoopy. Stiles let out a sigh of relief.

"I know you love Snoopy."

"Not just any Snoopy, Joe Cool Snoopy," you grinned, hugging the plush to your chest. "He's really cool."

"That's why they call him Joe Cool," Stiles answered. Lydia gave him a subtle nod from the other side of the room. Everyone else got to open their gifts, which is when Lydia brought out the champagne she stole from her Mom's stash. Very quickly, everyone got a pleasant buzz that only made the conversation louder. You nudged Stiles and gestured towards the kitchen, Snoopy still in hand. He followed after you.

You launched yourself at him as soon as you got in the kitchen.

"The gift is perfect," you mumbled, voice blocked by his shirt. Stiles thought you smelled like peppermint. You pulled away to look at him. "Thank you."

"A-Anything for you," Stiles stuttered, struck by how close you guys were. You didn't seem to notice or mind.

"I have a gift for you."

"You didn't get me in Secret Santa," Stiles asked, confused. You just shook your head.

"A gift of my own volition."

You leaned up and kissed him, lips still tasting of champagne. Stiles could do nothing but melt into you. He was dumbstruck when you parted.

"Merry Christmas, Stiles," you hummed. Stiles grinned, kissing you again.

"Merry Christmas, Y/N."

#stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski x reader #dylan obrien #dylan obrien x reader #teen wolf #teen wolf fics #my writing #ficmas #ficmas 2024

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streamafterlaughter · 2 days ago

Text

Soundtrack to Disaster

Chapter VIV: Want This Like a Cigarette

masterlist | playlist | pinboard | prev | diaries coming soon

songs for this chapter: colorblind by movements (acoustic), guilty pleasure by chappell roan, grudges by paramore

chapter tags: yearning, angst, missed opportunities, miscommunication, all the fun stuff! drinking, smoking (weed, cigarettes), adult language and scenarios | fic tags: angst, hurt/(eventual) comfort, (eventual) smut, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers, Eddie Munson x Fem!OC!Reader, Modern AU | This fic is rated 18+ MDNI each chapter will have its own content/trigger warnings

summary: you continue to piece together the mystery of your brother's sentence, learning little by little exactly what happened.

a/n: act I of god knows how many is coming to a close! things are about to get.... well. I don't wanna spoil anything. disregard!

taglist: @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @kellsck @faggotinie @xplrnowornever @taccobelle @micheledawn1975 @mewchiili @dreamerjj @losingmygrasponreality @munsonburn3r

DISCLAIMER: I do not consent to having my work fed to AI engines, or reposted in any way, shape, or form on other websites. Unless otherwise stated, this is the only account that features and contains this work, and any replication was done without my consent. Please let me know if you see my work elsewhere. Please reblog and comment to support the author!

You arrive at Steve and Robin’s a few hours before you’re supposed to leave for the concert. You feel the giddiness in your chest, the looming excitement of finally seeing one of your favorite artists live. That feeling quickly fades when you see the van parked outside of your friends’ place.

Inside the apartment, Steve pours four shots, one for each of you, and Eddie who’s lounging on the couch with a beer in his hand. You try not to stare, but it’s difficult to look away from the display; Eddie dressed in leather pants and a cropped t-shirt, his battle vest draped over the arm of the couch. His hair is tied into a low ponytail, revealing a dangly earring swinging against his neck. You clear your throat, feeling suddenly claustrophobic.

“Bee! Come in! Have a shot, I call it the Pink Pony.” Steve gestures dramatically to the kitchen island.

You laugh, reaching to strip your jacket from your shoulders. “What exactly is a Pink Pony shot?” You humor him, knowing you’ll probably regret it.

“It’s vodka, pink lemonade, and glitter.” Robin deadpans, plucking one of the glasses from the lineup. “Steve found this drinkable glitter shit online. To me it just looks like Edward Cullen pissed in here.” She closes one eye, inspecting the drink, but ultimately decides it’s worth the risk and downs it in one gulp. Her face scrunches as if she’s in pain, and she shakes her head wildly. “Delish.” She gives an extremely unconvincing thumbs up, and Steve rolls his eyes.

“Whatever. Here,” He hands another glass to you, “I don’t think it’s that bad.”

You gesture the glass to your friends before throwing it down your throat, trying desperately not to wince as it burns in your stomach. “This is…”

“Gasoline.” Eddie adds from the couch. “Jet fuel, even.”

You nod. “He’s right. Steve, where the fuck did you buy this shit?”

“I dunno! I got an ad on TikTok.”

There's a collective groan from the three of you, followed by various exclamations of Steve’s naive purchase. “It might actually be vampire piss!” You joke, earning a giggle from Eddie that makes your stomach flutter.

“You guys suck.” Steve pouts, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“Steve, baby, you’re good at so many things. Making drinks just isn’t one of them.” Robin gives her roommate a loving pat on the shoulder, and he surrenders.

“It is not that bad.” He takes his own shot, and fails miserably to hide his disgust. “Fine, I digress. Bee, you wanna make the next round?”

You sigh, approaching your friends in the kitchen, and feeling Eddie rise from the couch behind you. “You know I’m not working tonight, right?”

Robin juts her lip out. “Please, Bee? We can’t suffer through another round of Pink Pony farts.”

Steve gasps, but you throw your head back with laughter. “Alright, fine. If it means saving the lives of my friends, I guess I’ll do it for free. Just this once, though.” You snatch the glitter from Steve’s hand. “None of this shit, though.” And you dump it down the sink while Robin holds Steve back from lunging at you.

Once the damage is done, you turn to where Steve keeps his alcohol, on the rack by the fireplace. You peek through his half empty bottles, returning with a few you can use. “This, friends and Eddie, is the Bazooka Joe.” You place the Irish cream, banana liqueur, and blue curacao on the counter. “It’s supposed to taste like bubblegum.” You eyeball the measurements, filling each shot glass with the liquids, creating a milky teal color. Your friends each take one, throwing them down quickly. Their reactions are mixtures of shock and pleasant surprise.

Eddie is the next to speak. “I don’t have any drink recipes to offer, but if anyone would like to join me on the balcony for a joint,” He pulls one from behind his ear, “speak now or forever hold your peace.” His eyes meet yours then, and you can’t dismiss it as an accident. He’s asking you to come out.

“I’m good,” Robin says, narrowing her eyes at Eddie. “Don’t like to smoke before going out in public.”

Steve starts, “Ooh, I’ll—,” but stops short when Robin shoves her elbow into his side. “I’m good,” he coughs, “You guys go ‘head.”

You frown. He knows your rule, but he makes that stupid pouty face at you anyway. “C’mon, Bee. Don’t make me smoke alone.”

Rolling your eyes, you secede. “Fine. I’ll make a one time exception to the rule. On one condition.”

“What's that?”

“No talking.”

—

He lasts all of five minutes. “This is stupid.” You shake your head, refusing to indulge. “That’s fine. I’ll talk. You can keep not-talking.” He hands you the joint, and you take it, inhaling sweet smoke as Eddie continues, disregarding your agreement. “I wanna apologize. For a lot of things, actually. Last night, that wasn’t cool. I shouldn’t have sunk to his level, I don’t know what came over me.” You sense him staring at you, but fight the urge to look at him. Instead you keep your eyes forward, staring into the darkness of your neighborhood. He sighs, and continues, “And I’m so, so sorry about everything with your brother. It wasn’t easy for me either, y'know. Chris and I were best friends. But I couldn’t not listen to him. He did it to save my stupid ass.”

You finally look at him, passing him the joint as you try to read his face. “What do you mean by saving your ass?” The riddles are tired, and you can’t stand the thought of never getting the whole story.

He inhales before responding, “The cops already had it out for me. Since the second I turned eighteen, they waited for me to screw up. Pretty sure they had a bet on when I’d get arrested.” His tone is light, but you can see the sadness on his face as he recalls it. “I begged Chris not to tell you. He told me he wouldn’t, but only because he wanted me to. He made me promise to take care of you, and I broke that promise. You already hated me so much when you found out I snitched, you couldn’t even look at me. We stopped talking. I didn’t think telling you would change anything.”

The information sinks into your skin, and you have to focus on a tree in the distance to stop the world around you from spinning. You cycle through the stages of grief on a loop, getting emotional whiplash each time you try to make sense of what Eddie’s just said to you. Finally, you land on anger and stay there.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

He shakes his head, bewildered. “What?”

“Eddie, if you had just told me all of this six years ago–”

“I couldn’t, Bee. I wanted more than anything to tell you, but I couldn’t get out of my own way.”

The buzzing in your head is loud, disorienting. “So you ran away instead?”

Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose, eyes closed in concentration. “Bee, listen–”

“Eddie, please. Stop talking.” This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. You slide the screen door open, returning to the warmth of inside, trying not to let your friends read the shock and pain written plainly on your face. “Okay, I think I’m ready.”

–

Lining up for concerts used to be one of your favorite hobbies. If a show had general admission, you’d park yourself outside the venue for hours, holding your spot in the hopes that the artist would sweat on you. As you’ve gotten older, you’ve realized it is definitely not worth the hassle of waiting outside all day, sitting on the concrete until your butt falls asleep. When you and your friends arrive at the venue, the doors are already open, and a bouncer is leading you to the VIP lounge, where you give them your names. It earns you a few glares from people in the general admission line.

“Swanky!” Robin exclaims when she enters the green room, which is actually pretty lackluster. The dressing room holds a long fold out table filled full of snacks and drinks, parallel to an old couch with garish print that you’re sure probably hasn't been cleaned in decades.

“Sure, if that’s how you wanna put it.” The giggling comes from behind you, where Macy is leaning against the doorframe. “Hi, guys! Really glad you could make it.” She approaches you first, pulling you into an unexpected embrace. “Hi, doll! So nice to see you.” Something about her disposition puts you off, her smile looks plastic.

Macy makes her rounds, greeting each of your friends with a hug before turning to her boyfriend. “Hi, honey.” She stands on her tiptoes to daintily plant a kiss on his cheek, and the grin he wears is wide. You squint at the couple, trying to read them. “Make yourselves at home, we go on in half an hour. See you out there!” She gives a wave in the general direction of the room, and exits back to what you assume is her dressing room.

“This is so cool. Eddie, hold on to this one, yeah?” Steve plucks a cookie from the plate, and Robin gives him an expression of disbelief. “What?” He asks, mouth full. She just shakes her head.

–

The lights dim a few minutes after eight p.m., and the incoming crowd cheers with excitement. You and your friends are lined up across the barricade, off to one side to avoid the screaming teenagers only here for Chappell. You’re between Eddie and Robin, Steve on Robin’s other side yelling something in her ear you can’t make out.

A backing track fades in as the band takes the stage, and Macy approaches the mic stand. “Welcome to the show, everyone! We are Statuesque Dolls, from Hawkins, Indiana!” Zoe clicks her drumsticks together, and they start in on what you can only describe as a pop rock power ballad. Macy’s voice is stunning, you have to admit, reaching octaves you could only ever dream of reaching. The audience gets into it, swaying and dancing along to the rhythm, heads nodding to the beat. Some kids in the front are even singing, never missing a word Macy sings, and she points them out with a beaming grin on her face. Though you try, you can’t bring yourself to enjoy the set. The music is right up your alley of taste, and the band’s stage presence is nothing short of incredible, but the feeling of Eddie’s shoulder rubbing against yours as he belts out the words makes your chest tight, and every time Macy smiles at him you feel a throbbing in your temples.

Finally, they end their set, waving to the crowd before stepping off stage. Eddie announces he’s getting a drink, and nudges you. “Come with me?”

You glance at Robin, and swear you see her nod, as if giving you permission. “Okay.” You follow Eddie out of the crowd, over to the bar where a mass of people have gathered to attempt getting a drink.

“That was good, huh?” You ask feebly, trying to make small talk.

Eddie shrugs. “Yeah, they’re really good.” His tone is flat, and you raise an eyebrow at him.

“What’s up with you?”

He shakes his head, causing his already frizzy curls to fly around his face. “We uh, broke up. Me and Macy, I mean.”

You can’t help but drop your jaw, quickly shutting it when, even in the dim room, you see him blush with embarrassment. “Oh, shit. Eddie. I’m sorry. Wait, but she kissed you like, an hour ago?”

“Yeah, it was pretty amicable. I’m not, like, hurting over it. The band is going on tour after this, and I have, like, no interest in a long distance relationship.”

For some reason, it pisses you off. “But you still love her?”

“Whoa, Bee. Who said anything about love? I told you, it was pretty casual to begin with. What’s got you freakin’ out?” You think you sense teasing in his voice.

“I’m not freaking out, I guess I’m confused. You don’t think she’s worth the effort?”

He chuckles lightly as you approach the bar, ordering a cider for yourself and a beer for Eddie. “Of course she is. I’m not, though. She deserves better than that. Does it bother you?”

You roll your eyes, handing the bartender far too much cash for just two drinks. “You just said it wasn’t that serious, why would you care what I had to say about it?”

“Do you have something to say about it?” If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he sounded hopeful.

You pretend to ponder his question, then deadpan, “No. Believe it or not, I don’t give a shit about what you do with your dating life. You might break Steve’s heart if you tell him, though.”

Eddie visibly deflates as you hand him his drink. “Fuck, you’re right. You tell him.”

“No! I’m not doing your dirty work for you, Munson. Time to grow a pair.” With that, you breeze past him, back into the crowd.

–

“Thank you, Indy, I have been Chappell Roan!” The redhead onstage is a dream, absolutely stunning in a sparkly, pink, and complicated outfit. The fan blows her curly locks around, and you’d been so mesmerized that you’re only now registering the show is almost over.

She ends with pink Pony Club, causing Robin and Steve to jump around, screaming their voices hoarse, and you join them. By the end, you’re sweating bullets, makeup practically sliding down your face.

When she leaves the stage, you feel the relief of the crowd leaving, their weight that had been pressed to your back for hours finally fading. “That was insane. She’s incredible. Ethereal, really.” Steve is raving as you follow your friends out of the venue and into the cold of the night. “Eddie, man, you gotta go on tour.”

Eddie shrugs shyly. “Yeah, I’m workin’ on it, man.”

“No, man! With Macy, be the tour wife! You’ll get to see her all the time, and Macy! Her band is awesome, I can’t believe–”

“Steve, Macy and I broke up.”

He stops in his tracks. “What? Why? What did you do?”

“Why do you always think I did something?”

“Because you always do something. Remember in high school when you wanted to ask-”

“Okay! Enough. For your information, I didn’t do anything. I just don’t want anything serious right now.”

It barely satisfies Steve, but he backs off with a huffed “Okay, whatever!” You look from the boys to Robin, who’s already staring at you, seemingly studying your reaction.

“What?” You ask her, and she shakes her head.

“Anyone want food? I’m buying.” Steve offers, earning collective nods and mumbles of affirmation. Eventually, you end up at a late night diner, and Eddie holds the door open for the rest of you.

–

You arrive home past midnight, eyes and limbs heavy with sleep. “I’ll see you tomorrow, right Bee?” Robin asks. You nod, only just now remembering you promised to help Steve set up his and Robin’s new entertainment center. “Okay, cool. I’ll get us coffee!” Your friends and Eddie all say goodbye, and the car pulls away as you enter your house, foregoing the shower you’re definitely going to need in favor of sleeping longer.

When you’re finally cozied up in bed, your phone buzzes.

Eddie (block later): Thx for listening. Gn bee.

You decide against a real reply, instead tapping the Thumbs Up reaction, and locking your phone before rolling over. Sleep doesn’t come, though, despite how physically tired you are. Your brain is wired, thoughts racing by too quickly to focus on. Every thought you’ve shoved aside, rushing at you at once. Most of them are questions you can’t answer on your own; Why did Eddie tell you about his breakup? Why is he suddenly being so fucking nice to you? Has he always been this goddamn pretty?

You groan, shoving your face into your pillow to stifle the noise. Unfortunately, that telepathy you share with your brother hasn’t gone away, even after six years apart.

“Hey,” Your bedroom door cracks open to reveal Chris’s forehead, illuminated by the hall light behind him. “Can’t sleep?”

You shake your head before remembering you’re in the dark. “No. You?”

“Nah.” He opens the door fully, stepping into the dark of your room. “How was your night?”

“Really… good?”

“You sound unsure.” He throws himself down on the end of your bed, bouncing you up and down with the mattress. “What happened?”

You pause, unsure of how much Chris needs to know. Ultimately, you know you can’t hide anything from him, even though he’d spent the last six years pretty much conspiring with Eddie against you. “Nothing, really. We went to the show, it was fantastic. I had a really good time.”

“And…?”

“And nothing!”

“Then why are you groaning into your pillow like a child throwing a tantrum?” He snickers, and you whack his arm. “C’mon, something’s bugging you.”

“Yeah, but it’s gonna sound stupid.”

“You’re my little sister, everything you say sounds stupid.”

“Wow, Chris. Thanks, that makes me feel all warm and fuzzy.” You sit up, tucking your comforter into your waist. “Seriously, you’re gonna think I’m insane.”

“Well, I already do, so you got nothing to lose.”

“It’s something Eddie told me.” He doesn’t speak, waiting for you to continue. “He said you told him to rat you out. That’s not true, is it?”

Your brother sighs, bringing his legs up onto your bed to mirror you. “Would it change anything if I said yes?” You huff, waiting for him to continue. “Bee,” Chris flops onto his stomach. “You ‘hate’ Eddie for something I told him to do. You iced him out because of me. I know you probably don’t want to admit it to yourself, but I am the reason you and Eddie don’t get along. I’m sorry, I didn’t think he’d up and leave you, I never would have expected that from him. He lo–” He stops himself short, then continues instead, “He cares about you so much, kid. I feel awful for ruining that.”

It hurts your brain, hearing Chris confirm that gnawing feeling you’ve had for days, since Eddie blurted out the same truth in a fit of anger. Now it washes over you like a tidal wave, suffocating you under its weight. “It’s not too late to fix things with him, Bee. I know he’s been a little weird lately, but I can understand why. Just, give him a chance to redeem himself. For me?”

“Chris, why the fuck would I do anything for you after you told me all that? You basically just admitted to ruining one of the closest friendships I have ever had, and six fucking years too late. I can’t just pretend that didn’t happen! Eddie fucking left because of it! I thought he’d betrayed you!”

“In all fairness, I told him to tell you, begged him even. I figured he had, until I got out. I had no idea he’d kept that part from you. I told you that.” He argues.

It’s too much at once, you can feel your skin burning. “Get out, Chris. Please.”

He doesn’t argue, rising from your bed and walking to the door before turning. “I can take the heat, I’ve been getting it from you my whole life, but the kid did nothing wrong. It was stupid of him to run instead of telling you, but he didn’t screw me like you’d thought for so long. Don’t hold that grudge, Bee, it’s not worth it.” Before you can respond, Chris closes the door behind him, leaving you to be swallowed by the dark of your room.

#st #fics #munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #Eddie munson x oc #Eddie munson x fem!oc!reader #angst #slow burn #enemies to lovers #enemies to friends #modern au #strangerthingscentral #stranger things fanfic #Eddie munson fanfiction #best friend!robin buckley #best friend!Steve harrington

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marcyvamp1re-blog · 18 hours ago

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ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 ! ⺌ . ⸺ NPE!

PART ONE! | Volume I

Synopsis; "So, you’re an alien, huh?" Yeah, sure, maybe you’re a little... different. But honestly, who isn’t? The earthlings think you’re weird? Nope. It’s just that they’re a bunch of clueless humans, totally missing the point. You, on the other hand, have a higher calling. A mission to discover the meaning of life—you know, the whole ‘why am I here, and what am I supposed to be doing’ thing. Simple, right?

Except, uh... there’s a small hiccup. You don’t even know what species you are, because someone forgot to leave the alien instruction manual. Oops. So, while you’re out there doing some random side gig (you know, the one that might help you find out more about your roots and, oh yeah, pay the rent), you accidentally get tangled up in the lives of two earthlings.

Of course, you swear to protect them because, well, you kind of owe them. Maybe. Or maybe not. Who’s to say? Either way, your purpose might get a little... distracted. But hey, priorities, right?

Pairing ── Dan Da Dan x Alien! Fem/Neutral? Reader.

Content. MDNI ── Manga Spoilers, Violence/Death, Blood, Invasion of Privacy, Invasion of Mind, Abduction, Kidnapping, Angst, Murder, Disturbing Content, Corruption, Isolation,Paranoia, Manipulation, Unintended Time Travel Mishaps, Alien Romance Tropes, Sudden Existential Crises, Unexplained Tentacle Appearances, Turbo Granny's Sass, Breaking the Fourth Wall, Gravity-Defying Physics, Psychic Overload, Ambiguous Yōkai Allegiances, Excessive Hair-Related Powers, Sudden Dance Battles in Crisis, Outdated Alien Fashion Choices, Malfunctioning Spacecraft Humor, Intense Staring Contests, Time-Dilated Cliffhangers, Overwhelming Amounts of Sparkles, Overwhelming Amounts of Sparkles, Polyamory, LGBTQ+ Content, ¿Gender-fluid or Non-binary Character? (Not with respect to pronouns, but to their genitals xd), Unconventional Relationship Dynamics, Consent Issues in Alien Interactions, Mind-altering Love Spells, Extreme Jealousy, Existential Dilemmas on Love and Identity, Mind-Controlling Aliens.

A/N ── English is not my first language—Spanish— Oh my god, how did this happen 😱 sorry to everyone (@flwes & @redberrysstuff) who saw the incomplete story, I feel SO embarrassed. Ugh, I swear, autocorrect and my clumsiness are going to kill me one of these days. :"(( But seriously, I promise the full version is coming, just give me a second to fix it.

"Idiot! Moron! Squid! Tuna!" Momo Ayase shouted from the ground, her face flushed with rage as she watched her now ex-boyfriend walk away with that annoying mix of guilt and annoyance in his eyes. "Never call me again!"

"Momo? Are you okay? Or should I sign up for the next round of sea insults?" asked a familiar voice behind her.

Momo turned around, still frowning, but the sight disarmed her a bit. There was Y/n Seigai, with that carefree energy that always seemed straight out of a movie. She wore a short plaid skirt and a white blouse that highlighted her figure, complemented by long socks and platform shoes with a puma print that screamed confidence. Her makeup was simple yet striking, enough to make anyone turn to look at her. And, as always, she had something in her hand: this time, a frozen yogurt popsicle that she licked absently as if nothing in the world could disturb her calm.

"Late again, huh?" Momo huffed, crossing her arms and standing up, her gaze as severe as a frustrated mother.

"What? Was that a 'thank you for coming to the rescue, Y/n'? Because if so, your tone needs a little work," Y/n replied with a cheeky smile, making an exaggerated gesture to offer her a lick of her popsicle. "Want some? Frozen yogurt cures broken hearts. It's science."

"I don't want your stupid popsicle, idiot! And stop changing the subject! You're late to school again! Do you know how many times I've been asked why you can't arrive on time? I feel like your babysitter!"

Y/n theatrically sighed, placing a hand on her chest as if Momo had wounded her pride. "Oh, Momo. Always so responsible, so punctual... except when you decide to sleep in on Mondays. Remember last Monday? Because I do; you were running out with a toast in your mouth."

Momo opened her mouth to retort but quickly shut it, blushing a little. "That was different! And don’t change the subject!"

"Okay, okay, sorry, mom," Y/n said with a mischievous smile, raising her hands in a sign of surrender. "But in my defense, it's not my fault that the coffee at that corner is so good it makes me lose track of time."

"You have a watch on your wrist, Y/n! And a phone with alarms! ALARMS!"

"Well, my alarms and I have a complicated relationship..." Y/n murmured as she took another lick of the popsicle.

Momo couldn't help but let out an exasperated sigh, although her lips curled slightly into a smile. That was the dynamic with Y/n: serious and responsible when necessary but with enough chaotic moments to drive her crazy. And even though sometimes she wanted to give her a good lecture, she couldn't deny that Y/n always knew how to lift her spirits, even on days like today.

"Come on, Momo. Let's get to class. I promise we'll make it before the bell rings... probably," Y/n said, offering her the popsicle as a peace gesture.

"Probably isn’t good enough! And I don’t want your silly popsicle," Momo shot back, but she couldn’t help but chuckle a bit as they started walking together.

As they crossed the school gates, Momo and Y/n couldn’t help but draw attention. They were, without a doubt, a striking pair: Momo, with her natural charisma and perfectly polished gyaru style, walked with purpose while continuing to rant about her now ex-boyfriend; Y/n, on the other hand, exuded a magnetic nonchalance, her skirt swaying with each step and a yogurt popsicle still in her hand, as if school were just another runway in her day.

"And then he has the nerve to say I’m playing hard to get! Can you believe it?" Momo gestured dramatically, as if still arguing with her ex.

"Mm-hmm," Y/n murmured, not stopping her slow lick of the popsicle. "Sounds like someone needs a 'How Not to Be an Idiot' manual. Should I mail him one?"

"Not even that! He’d probably lose it, like he loses all common sense," Momo shot back, rolling her eyes.

As they made their way down the hallway, students stepped aside to let them pass—some admiring their style, others whispering comments among themselves. Momo was so engrossed in her complaints she barely noticed the stares. Y/n, however, threw the occasional wink or offered a carefree smile, as if she were used to being the center of attention.

"Can you stop flirting with the entire hallway? I’m having a crisis here!" Momo snapped, giving her a light nudge.

"Flirting? I’m just being friendly. But if you want all my attention, Momo, you only have to ask," Y/n replied with a mischievous grin.

"God, you’re unbearable!"

Finally, they reached their classroom, where their other two friends, Miko and Muko, were waiting.

Miko was seated by the window, her small bow perfectly in place and her uniform impeccable, though always with her personal touch. Her beige sweater and loosely tied ribbon gave her a relaxed vibe, but her bright smile showed she was ready for a day full of energy.

Muko, in contrast, was impossible to ignore. Her tan skin stood out against her blonde hair styled into pigtails, and the manba makeup she wore proudly added a bold edge to her look. Her uniform followed the same pattern as the other girls', but on her, everything seemed a bit more daring—from the slightly oversized sweater to the way her loose socks fell perfectly over her sandals.

"Wow! Took you long enough," Miko said with a smile as she saw them walk in. "I thought you’d actually be on time today."

"Tell that to Miss 'Coffee is More Important Than Punctuality,'" Momo replied, giving Y/n an accusatory look.

"Me? I arrived just in time to make this spectacular entrance," Y/n said, spinning dramatically before flopping into her seat.

"Jealous, Miko?" Muko chimed in as she adjusted one of her pigtails. "They walk in, and the whole hallway stares. People only look at us when Miko shouts something ridiculous."

"Hey! That was one time," Miko retorted, crossing her arms with feigned indignation.

Momo let out a sigh, but a smile began to form on her lips. Being with them was always like this: chaotic, fun, and somehow reassuring.

"Alright, girls, now that we’re all here, I need advice. How do you get over an idiot who just wants you to pay for everything and only cares about sleeping with you?"

"Easy," Y/n said, raising her popsicle as if it were a trophy. "You get over him by being yourself: brighter, more fabulous, and completely out of his league. Like always, Momo."

"Amen," added Muko, lifting her phone for a quick selfie with Miko, who automatically struck a pose.

Momo rolled her eyes but couldn’t help laughing. Yes, her group was a mess in its own way, but she wouldn’t trade it for anything.

"Okay, seriously, what happened? Why are you so upset? We know it’s not because of Y/n, because when you’re mad at her, you yell louder than a megaphone," Miko said, raising an eyebrow with that teasing attitude she always had when she wanted to get under Momo’s skin.

Momo let out a heavy sigh and flopped onto the desk. "Nothing... that idiot dumped me, and then I started insulting him... using fish names."

Y/n, who was lounging back in her chair with her feet on the desk as if she were at home, couldn’t hold back a laugh. "Fish names. Like ‘Tuna’ and ‘Squid’. Because I’m sure that hurt his feelings a lot. Wow, Momo, terrifying. Do you really think that’s going to change his mind?"

"Ha, I’m dying," Muko said, testing a bit of her makeup while laughing. "Fish names aren’t insults, Momo. What were you expecting, ‘Shark’ or ‘Piranha’? Now those might be scary!"

Momo frowned, looking at her friends as if they were aliens. "You’re supposed to comfort me! He was my first boyfriend! My first, girls!" Momo waved her hands dramatically, as if she had lost something truly valuable.

Muko looked at her with a mix of sympathy and exasperation. "We told you to forget about him, Momo. It was obvious he wasn’t worth it."

Y/n nodded with mock seriousness, though her eyes still sparkled with amusement. "Yeah, can you remind me what was supposed to be so great about him? Was it the guy who always wore shirts two sizes too small? Or was it his talent for making you feel bad every time you talked about your dreams?"

"It’s just... he looked like Ken Takakura," Momo replied, as if it were an irrefutable justification, throwing her hands up as if there were nothing more to say.

The three friends sighed in unison, a sound so synchronized it could have been rehearsed.

"There she goes again..." Muko muttered, shaking her head and placing a hand on her forehead in a dramatic pose.

"Ugh, here we go," Miko said, glancing at Y/n and raising an eyebrow. "The story of the guy who ‘looked like’ Ken Takakura. Momo, are you sure you don’t have a poster of him at home?"

"She doesn’t just have a poster, let me tell you," Y/n said, remembering the time she stayed over at Momo’s house while her grandmother was away for a few days.

Y/n, who had just finished her popsicle and was now grinning mockingly at the others, tossed the stick out the window with perfect precision. "Here we go with your nonsense again, Momo. First it was ‘Ken Takakura,’ then it’ll be ‘Tom Cruise,’ and next you’ll tell me you fell for some guy who looks like an anime character. Stop idealizing guys, seriously."

Momo shot her a glare. "It’s not the same, Y/n! Ken Takakura is an icon, a real man!"

"Yeah, a movie man probably under contract with boredom, because guys like him don’t exist in real life," Y/n said, striking a dramatic pose as she crossed her arms.

Momo shrugged. "I don’t know what it is about him… but there’s something, I swear."

"What he has is that he’s in movies, not real life," Miko replied with a somewhat philosophical tone, as if she’d just imparted a profound truth about reality.

"So what, huh!? I like tough guys, like Ken Takakura!" Momo shouted, raising her hand as if she’d just made a worldwide announcement about her love for cinematic men.

Miko and Muko exchanged glances and, with almost perfect synchronization, replied, "Momo, we’ve got a surprise for you… those men are extinct."

Momo immediately dropped her head, as if someone had dumped a bucket of cold water on her. Her shoulders slumped, and her smile vanished in an instant. "What? Extinct? That can’t be true!" she muttered, as if she’d just taken a direct hit to the heart.

"Sorry, Momo," Miko said with a mischievous smile. "Men like that don’t exist anymore. All we’ve got now are guys in sweatpants with cat wallpapers on their phones."

Momo let out a deep sigh, an exaggerated expression of sorrow crossing her face. "So what?! What am I supposed to do with my life? Settle for guys who don’t even know what a good hairstyle is?!"

With the theatrics worthy of a telenovela star, Momo stood from her seat, leaving the others watching as she exited the classroom as if she’d just lost the most important battle of her life.

"Did what we said hurt her feelings?" Miko asked, a faint smile on her face, though she already knew the answer.

"No," Y/n replied, standing up without looking back, her eyes sparkling with a mix of amusement and concern. "It hurt because it’s true."

Momo, on the verge of stepping into the hallway, didn’t notice Y/n following her. As Y/n caught up, she saw Momo walking with slumped shoulders, as if she were on a farewell mission for her love life.

Y/n walked up to her side and, with a playful smile, nudged her shoulder lightly. "Come on, Momo, don’t be like that. There are still guys out there who aren’t complete disasters."

Momo gave her a sad look. "I don’t know, Y/n. Maybe tough guys are just a fantasy. Like Ken Takakura. A legend of the past!"

"Well, if you ask me, the real tough guy is standing right here!" Y/n said, pointing a thumb at herself with a cheeky grin. "Forgot about us? We’re the tough ones now."

Momo glanced at her sideways, a flicker of humor returning to her eyes. "The problem is I don’t have time for girls who make bad jokes."

Y/n followed her, chuckling softly. "I’m the best company you could ask for, and I’ll prove it!"

The two walked down the hallway, leaving the classroom behind, Momo still a little down but starting to relax, with Y/n beside her as always—joking, stylish, and promising that there was always something better than a movie fantasy.

"Let’s go, Momo," Y/n said with a sly smile. "Tough guys may not exist anymore, but we’re unstoppable!"

Momo couldn’t help but smile, even if just a little. Maybe it wasn’t all that bad after all.

As Momo and Y/n passed by the nearest classroom, they couldn’t help but notice a group of boys throwing paper balls at a smaller, scrawnier boy with a hairstyle clearly modeled after Nobita from Doraemon.

Momo frowned immediately, spotting the bullying behavior. Y/n tensed beside her. Both of them hated bullies, and they weren’t about to stand by and do nothing.

One of the boys, grinning stupidly, picked up a paper ball and said loudly, "Stick a magnet in it! That’s gotta hurt!"

As he prepared to throw it, now with a magnet inside, a shadow loomed over him. Turning around, he found Momo sitting in front of him, her expression unimpressed. Behind him, Y/n stood with her arms crossed, her gaze so intense it could’ve melted anything in its path.

"Hey," Momo asked, looking at the boy with a mix of curiosity and disapproval. "What are you reading?"

"Uh… this…" the boy stammered, glancing nervously between the bullies and the girls.

The boys throwing the paper balls didn’t seem to realize what was happening. They turned back to their antics, ignoring the two girls who weren’t about to stay quiet.

Momo quickly stood up, shooting the bullies one last look. "What a bunch of idiots," she said, rolling her eyes. "It’s like this world is full of losers."

Y/n sighed, observing the chaos with a smile that hid something deeper. She was about to leave with Momo until her eyes caught the title of the magazine the boy was reading.

"The Occult," she read aloud, raising an intrigued eyebrow and smiling faintly. "Interesting…" she murmured before stepping toward Momo, leaving the minor chaos of the classroom behind.

"Come on, Momo," Y/n teased as she walked alongside her. "You look like you just had to pay taxes or something. Relax."

"You’d feel the same way if you were surrounded by idiots!" Momo snapped, crossing her arms indignantly.

Suddenly, an unfamiliar voice thundered behind them:

"MOMO AYASE! Y/N SEIGAI!"

"Huh? Now what?" Momo said, turning around with a frown.

It was the nerd from earlier. He was running toward them with all his might, gasping for breath as if he’d just escaped a marathon. When he reached them, he stopped so abruptly he almost fell over.

"I KNOW WHAT YOU LIKE!" he shouted, hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

"What?" Y/n asked, visibly confused, glancing at Momo with a raised eyebrow.

"I KNOW WHAT YOU LIKE!" he repeated, louder this time, with an oddly intense conviction. "That’s the only reason someone like you would talk to someone like me!"

Momo blinked slowly and then let out an exaggerated sigh. "You’ve already said that. Can you switch up your dialogue? You sound like a broken record."

Y/n put a hand to her face, muttering, "Have you lost your mind? Where did you even get that crazy idea?"

The boy looked at them with desperate eyes, as if he was about to reveal some cosmic secret. "I’m talking about this!" he exclaimed, pulling something out as if presenting irrefutable proof.

Both girls tilted their heads simultaneously, trying to figure out what he was holding.

"Is that... a magazine?" Momo asked, squinting.

"Yes! A limited edition of The Occult! I know you’re into this because I saw how you looked at it earlier! President Obama has already been to Mars! This is the full story of the Pegasus Project! You’re into the paranormal!"

Momo closed her eyes and ran a hand over her forehead, clearly trying to summon some patience. "Look, genius, we’re not planning to be your best friends or start a paranormal book club with you. We don’t believe in UFOs or aliens."

"They’re not UFOs, they’re UAPs! Unidentified Aerial Phenomena!" the boy yelled enthusiastically, holding up the magazine like it was some sacred manifesto.

He began talking again, with a passion that seemed endless. Y/n listened with a half-smile, entertained by the chaos he brought with him. But soon, she felt Momo’s hand squeeze hers—a clear sign: Momo was about to lose her temper.

And then, she exploded.

"WOULD YOU JUST SHUT UP ALREADY?! MY HEART’S BEEN BROKEN, AND I’M NOT IN THE MOOD! AND YOU’RE SO ANNOYING WITH YOUR NERD STORIES THAT NOBODY CARES ABOUT, OKAY?! THAT’S WHY YOU HAVE NO FRIENDS!"

The boy froze, his mouth open and his eyes wide like saucers. Even Y/n, who was used to Momo’s outbursts, raised an eyebrow. "Ouch. Low blow," she murmured, mostly to herself.

Still fuming like a volcano, Momo pointed at the boy. "Don’t even think about talking to us again! Let’s go, Y/n!"

But Y/n didn’t move. She looked at the boy with some pity, her eyes softening. She stepped toward him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey... she didn’t mean it, okay? She’s upset because she had a bad day. Don’t take it to heart," she said calmly, trying to diffuse the situation.

Momo stopped and turned around, clearly picking up on Y/n’s accusatory tone even though she hadn’t said anything else. With an exasperated sigh, she rolled her eyes. "Fine, fine! I’m sorry, dude! I went too far. Happy now?"

She picked up the magazine that had fallen to the floor and handed it back to the boy, though her lips were still pursed. "But don’t get excited. I don’t believe in aliens. I’m more into ghosts and spirits, got it?"

Out of nowhere, the boy started laughing—not a polite chuckle, but a full-on belly laugh that echoed down the hallway.

"Don’t tell me you actually believe in spirits," he said, still laughing as he wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.

Momo froze, her frown deeper than ever. "Are you making fun of me?!" she shouted, stepping toward him with clenched fists.

Before anyone could react, the two launched into a heated argument. Momo insisted that spirits were real, while the boy passionately defended his UAPs. Y/n, stuck between them like a referee in a wrestling match, glanced toward the hallway. There stood Miko and Muko, watching the scene with amused smiles as they whispered to each other.

"These two are hopeless," Y/n muttered under her breath, feeling her patience wear thin.

Finally, she snapped.

"ENOUGH! YOU’RE DRIVING ME CRAZY!" she yelled, pushing them apart with a hand on each shoulder. Her voice was so loud that even Miko and Muko stopped laughing to peek in with curiosity.

"Here’s the deal," Y/n said, crossing her arms authoritatively. "If Momo proves that spirits exist, you’ll become her personal errand boy. But if you prove that UFOs—sorry, UAPs—are real, then she’ll be your errand girl."

Both of them stared at her in disbelief.

"WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!" they shouted in unison, their faces a mix of shock and panic.

Y/n smirked, her tone daring as if she’d just announced the rules of a reality show. "It’s a bet. Take it or leave it."

Momo opened her mouth to protest but then glanced at the boy with a competitive glint in her eyes. "Errand boy, huh? That doesn’t sound too bad."

The boy blinked, clearly trying to process what had just happened. Finally, he raised his chin, determined. "Fine! But get ready to carry my stuff when I win."

Momo narrowed her eyes. "Me? Carry your stuff? Dream on, loser!"

From the hallway, Miko and Muko started laughing again.

"This is gonna be good," Miko said.

"I’m definitely not missing this," Muko added.

Y/n sighed, looking at the two challengers with exhaustion. "Great, now you’re both committed. But if you waste my time, I swear both of you will end up being my errand boys!"

They both nodded, though they still exchanged defiant glares. Y/n couldn’t help but smile. This was either going to be very interesting… or completely chaotic.

⊹ ・・───・・・・───・・ ⊹

"What is this place?! I’M GONNA DIE OF FEAR!" screamed Momo, clinging to you like a lifeline in the middle of the ocean. Her grip was so tight that you seriously considered whether you’d pass out from lack of air or from the creepy atmosphere of the hospital.

"Relax, Momo," you sighed, trying to wiggle free while scanning the surroundings. Nagi University Hospital didn’t disappoint: graffiti-covered walls, broken windows, dark hallways, and that classic feeling that something was watching you from the shadows. "Though… yeah, this place is pretty unsettling."

"UNSETTLING?! THIS IS STRAIGHT OUT OF A HORROR MOVIE!" Momo shrieked, practically climbing on top of you.

On the other end of the phone, the guy sounded thrilled. "Stop whining! Nagi Hospital is one of the prime spots for UFO sightings! They say if you’re on the rooftop, you get abducted!"

"What’s abduction?" Momo whispered in your ear.

"It’s when aliens kidnap you and experiment on your body," you whispered back.

"Hey, genius, why the rooftop?" you asked, frowning as you tried to keep Momo at a reasonable distance. "What does the rooftop have to do with UFOs?"

"Because UFOs can’t land in the basement, OBVIOUSLY!" he replied triumphantly, as if he’d just solved a universal mystery.

"Are you kidding me…? WHO IN THEIR RIGHT MIND BUILDS A HOSPITAL WHERE YOU GET ABDUCTED?!" shouted Momo, clearly on the verge of throwing the phone out the window.

"And who in their right mind goes willingly to an abandoned hospital for fun? Oh, wait... you two."

"THAT’S IT!" Momo yelled, red with indignation, and if you hadn’t stopped her, she probably would’ve smashed the phone against the nearest wall.

"Okay, okay, enough, both of you!" you interrupted, rubbing your temples. "Listen, Nobita of the UFO fandom, you focus on your tunnel and tell us if you see anything weird. We’ll try not to die or get abducted, deal?"

"Perfect! And record everything! This could change history!" he said excitedly, as if already drafting his speech for NASA.

"Sure, sure. If aliens take me, I’ll make sure to Facetime you," you muttered as Momo tugged at your arm.

"YOU GO FIRST! I’M NOT GOING ALONE!" Momo demanded, pointing at the dark hallway leading to the rusty elevator.

"Me first? I’d rather we just go home and call it a day. We’ve done enough for one evening."

Momo huffed but then crossed her arms and stared at the floor, thoughtful. "If we leave now, that idiot’s gonna laugh at us all week."

"What do you prefer? Him laughing at us, or us getting abducted? Because I know where my priorities lie, and aliens don’t make the top 10."

There was a brief silence as you both weighed your options. Finally, Momo sighed dramatically, like she’d just decided to climb a mountain. "Fine, but if anything weird happens, you handle it. I’m just gonna scream and run, deal?"

"I wouldn’t expect anything less from you," you replied with a tired smile as the two of you ventured into the dark hallway. The echo of your footsteps bounced off the empty walls, while the guy on the other end of the phone kept rambling about "electromagnetic phenomena and alien microwaves."

"By the way!" said the guy, as if he had just remembered something. "If you see strange lights, don’t get close. They’re a sign of imminent abduction."

"Great," you muttered, rolling your eyes. "Anything else we should know before we get abducted?"

"Yeah, if you get abducted, ask them how they travel faster than light. I’m really interested in that!"

"WHAT KIND OF PSYCHOPATH THINKS ABOUT THAT AT A TIME LIKE THIS?!" Momo screamed, and this time, you couldn’t help but laugh. At least the strange humor was helping to calm the terror a little.

"Hey, kid, let’s be honest... you’ve never seen a UFO in your life, have you?" Momo asked, crossing her arms and looking at him with a mix of disdain and curiosity.

The guy adjusted his glasses, clearly offended. "DO YOU KNOW WHAT REGRESSIVE HYPNOSIS IS?"

"DON’T CHANGE THE SUBJECT!" Momo snapped, pointing at him with an accusing finger. "I asked you something very simple."

He raised a finger, completely ignoring her while striking a dramatic pose. "THE QUESTION ISN’T WHETHER I’VE SEEN A UFO..."

"Uh-huh, sure," murmured Y/n, rolling their eyes.

"WHAT MATTERS ARE THE FOUNDATIONS OF THE THEORY!" he continued, in such a serious tone that it sounded like he was giving a lecture on astrophysics.

Momo sighed, clearly losing patience. "Again with your nonsense, oh my god. Don’t you ever get tired? Or do you recharge with solar batteries?"

"THIS ISN’T NONSENSE! IT'S SCIENCE! IT’S TRUE!" he protested, with an almost comical intensity.

"Yeah, sure. And how’s it going there, huh? Anything interesting besides your ‘theories’?" Momo said, looking around with feigned indifference as she tried to change the subject.

"I’VE ARRIVED... TOO SHY... SHY... TO THIS MYSTERIOUS PLACE..." the guy shouted on the phone, his voice echoing in the dark, damp tunnel. "WELL... NOW IT'S TIME TO PROVE IT!"

Momo frowned, not as convinced by his enthusiasm. "Please, do you really think this place is special? It’s all dark and super creepy!"

"YOU’RE SCARED! YOU KEEP TALKING ABOUT THE INTERNET, HAVEN’T YOU EVER SEEN A GHOST?!" the guy yelled, his voice strangely echoing in the tunnel.

"Not at all," Momo replied with a nervous laugh, though her gaze darkened a little.

"WHAT WAS THAT RANT ABOUT EARLIER?!" she shouted, pointing at the phone. "TAKE BACK EVERYTHING YOU SAID! How can you believe in spirits if you've never even seen one?"

"What's so strange about that?" Momo shot back, crossing her arms. She lowered her voice a bit before continuing: "I told you... my grandmother is a medium. She raised me because... well, because I don’t have parents."

There was a brief silence. Even the guy on the phone seemed to be lost for words. Y/n looked at Momo, noticing an expression they rarely saw on their friend: nostalgia mixed with sadness.

"I didn’t know..." murmured the guy on the other end of the line.

"Yeah," Momo continued, trying to appear indifferent. "My parents died when I was little. So my grandmother took care of me. But of course, my grandmother wasn’t a normal person. She always talked about spirits, spells, energies. Before going to school, she’d make me do a ritual to protect me from ‘bad vibes’ or something like that. And if I didn’t do it, she’d get mad at me."

"And did you do it?" Y/n asked with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood.

Momo sighed. "At first, I had no choice. But... it was horrible. The other kids would laugh at me. Even the guy I liked... one day he saw me doing one of those rituals and, well, he thought I was an idiot. From that moment on, he started avoiding me. It was the worst."

"That sounds tough," Y/n commented, with a more serious tone.

"Yeah, it was," Momo admitted, shrugging. "I got really angry with my grandmother for that. I think I even said things I shouldn’t have. I felt really alone. But... now that I think about it, it wasn’t so much the ritual that bothered me. It was seeing how they laughed at my family, how they didn’t understand what it meant to us."

"It must have been hard," Y/n said.

"It was," Momo repeated, looking down. "I didn’t regain trust in my grandmother until recently. I realized that, even though her ideas were strange, she did it because she wanted to protect me. And... well, it's all I have left of my family. So, even though it’s frustrating sometimes... I guess I understand her."

The guy on the other end of the phone cleared his throat, breaking the mood. "Well... I don’t know much about spirits, but your grandmother sounds... interesting."

Momo laughed a little. "That’s a polite way to put it. But yeah, she is."

"My grandmother..." Momo began, her gaze fixed on the darkness of the hospital, as if she were speaking more to herself than to anyone else. "Her work as a medium... I don’t know if it’s real. I’ve never seen a spirit. Never. I don’t even know if my grandmother can really perceive them. But you know something? I don’t care. Because, at the end of the day, she raised me alone. She accepted me as her family, even when I didn’t understand anything she did or said. And, in some way, I believe in her."

There was a silence in the group. Even the guy on the phone seemed to have fallen silent for a moment, as if Momo’s words had struck him.

"That’s why I believe in spirits," she continued. "Not because I’ve seen them, but because I believe in my grandmother. And that’s enough for me."

Y/n looked at her with a mixture of surprise and admiration. It was rare to hear Momo speak so sentimentally, but somehow, the sincerity of her words hit like a punch to the chest.

"And you?" Momo asked, turning back to the phone. "Why do you believe in aliens, huh?"

"That... that’s different," the guy replied, somewhat uncomfortable. "You don’t have to see something to know it exists. There’s evidence, theories, data..."

Momo let out a short, bitter laugh. "Oh, sure. Evidence and theories. But tell me something, genius: have you ever seen an alien with your own eyes?"

"Well... no," he admitted, somewhat hesitantly.

"Then what makes you different from me? Why do you assume that yours is more real than mine?"

"Because it’s science," he quickly responded, defensively.

"Science?" Momo raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. "You call science looking at forums on the internet and reading conspiracy theories from people who’ve probably never left their basement?"

"It’s not the same!" he exclaimed, clearly frustrated.

Y/n decided to intervene before the conversation turned into an argument. "Okay, okay, both of you, calm down. Look, I think Momo has a point. But you do too, mysterious guy. At the end of the day, if you like something, you don’t need reasons to believe in it, right?"

They both fell silent, though their expressions showed they still had a lot to say.

"By the way," Momo added, slightly changing the subject, "you talk about aliens like you know everything about them, but... you have the voice of someone who doesn’t leave the house much, am I wrong?"

"What are you implying?" he asked, clearly offended.

"That you probably haven’t talked to another person in months, other than us on the phone," she replied with a teasing smile.

"That’s not true!"

"Uh-huh, sure."

Y/n chuckled softly while observing their dynamic. Even though they argued constantly, there was something strangely entertaining about their interactions.

"Anyway," Momo said, returning to the previous topic, "I don’t know if aliens exist, but one thing I’m sure of: we don’t need evidence to believe in what matters to us. That includes my grandmother... and I guess your aliens too."

"I guess you’re right," the guy admitted, in a somewhat resigned tone.

"Of course I am," she responded confidently.

"Well," Y/n interrupted, looking around, "before we continue to philosophize, can we just focus on not dying here? Because this place still gives me the creeps."

"I'll second that motion," Momo added, adjusting her hair. "Come on, Y/n. And you, kiddo, keep looking for your evidence. We'll do our thing."

"Don't forget to record something if you see a spirit!" he replied.

"Sure, and if we see an alien, we'll introduce you to it in person," Momo replied sarcastically as she walked with Y/n into the darkness of the hospital.

The boy moved slowly through the tunnel, his flashlight wobbling with each step. The place was dark, damp, and had a strange smell, as if time had stopped there. The echoes of his footsteps made him think he wasn't alone, although he tried to convince himself otherwise.

Suddenly, something stopped him. A few feet in front of him, a figure appeared out of nowhere.

It was an old woman, hunched over, dressed in worn clothes and a hat that looked like it was from another era. Her face was covered in deep wrinkles, but what stood out the most was her twisted, almost grotesque smile.

“What the…?” he muttered, trying to back away.

The old woman looked up, and her eyes shone with an unnatural intensity.

The old woman took a step forward. “I’ll let you suck my… tits,” she said with a twisted grimace, “if you let me suck your dick.”

“WHAT?!” the boy shouted, jumping back. His flashlight shook in his hand, and, in his panic, his phone almost slipped from his grasp.

“Momo! Y/n! It’s a ghost!” he shouted into the phone, although he didn’t know if they were still on the line.

From the other side of the tunnel, Momo looked up, irritated. “What is this idiot saying now?”

The boy ran as fast as he could, not daring to look back. Each step echoed like a drum in the tunnel, and his panting was deafening.

“This can’t be happening!” he shouted, stumbling slightly but staying on his feet. “It’s just an old exit! YES, THAT’S WHAT IT HAS TO BE!”

He reached his bike, parked at the entrance to the tunnel, and began to wobble as he tried to mount it. His hands shook so badly that he could barely grip the handlebars. “Come on, come on, come on!” he muttered frantically as he tried to pedal.

At that moment, the cell phone in his pocket rang again. It was Momo. With clumsy hands, he pulled out the phone and answered, still panting.

“AYASE! THAT THING IS FOLLOWING ME!”

“Don’t stop, you idiot!” Momo shouted from the other end of the line. “If it catches up with you, you’re done for!” “It’s the curse of the Old Turbo! If you lose the race against her, she curses you!”

“WHAT!? WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME BEFORE!?”

“Because I didn’t think anyone would be idiotic enough to provoke her!”

The boy looked back as he pedaled, and his blood ran cold. The old woman wasn’t running… she was floating towards him, with terrifying speed.

“NOOOO!” he shouted, pedaling even harder.

“Don’t look back!” Momo exclaimed, almost hysterical. “Just keep pedaling!”

Suddenly, the tunnel was filled with a strange echo.

Momo, who was still shouting into the phone, noticed something strange. “Hey, wait a minute! Y/n?”

The silence on the other side made her stop. She turned her head and realized that Y/n was no longer there.

“Y/n!? Where are you?!” he screamed, looking around in panic.

The boy’s cell phone began to crackle with static, and the call was abruptly cut off. He was now alone, the echo of the Turbo Old Lady’s laughter filling the tunnel as he pedaled madly towards the exit.

Momo, still holding his own cell phone, felt a chill run down his spine. “This isn’t right… Y/n? Answer!”

Momo made his way down the hallway, the light from his flashlight shaking with each step he took. The air seemed colder with each meter, and darkness enveloped everything around him. “Y/n? Are you there? Please answer…” he muttered, gripping his cell phone tightly.

Suddenly, a strange sound echoed in the distance. Footsteps.

Momo stopped dead in his tracks, his breathing quickening. “Boy? Is that you? Answer!”

But what emerged from the shadows wasn’t Y/n. They were three tall figures, oddly proportioned. They wore human clothing: buttoned-up shirts with collars, tucked neatly into their pants. The pockets of their shirts were filled with small items, such as pens and a notebook sticking out of one of them. They wore perfectly fitted belts and shiny shoes, as if they had just left an office meeting.

Their heads, however, were anything but human.

They looked like grotesque humanoid masks: expressionless faces with motionless eyes and thin mouths that curved unnaturally. Their movements were stiff, but their eyes followed her with chilling precision.

Momo took a step back, her body trembling. “Who… what are you guys?” she stammered, trying to maintain her composure.

One of them took a step forward, his head tilting slightly, as if he were studying her. Momo didn’t wait any longer. She turned on her heel and began running down the tunnel, quickly dialing Y/n’s number on her cell phone.

“Y/n! Please answer! There are some weird guys here and—!”

She couldn’t finish. One of the men appeared out of nowhere, blocking her way. Momo screamed and backed away, but she collided with something hard. She quickly turned around and found another one of them, who had appeared behind her without making the slightest noise.

“Leave me alone!” she screamed, throwing the flashlight at one of them in a desperate attempt to escape. The flashlight bounced harmlessly off his chest, and he showed no reaction.

Before she could do anything else, she felt an icy pressure on her arm. One of the men had grabbed her, his grip firm but inexplicably cold. “No, no, no! Let me go!”

The cell phone fell from her hands and hit the ground, illuminating for a moment the expressionless face of one of the men. “Y/n! Help!” was the last thing she managed to scream before she was dragged into the darkness of the tunnel.

The phone was left there, illuminating an empty, cold hallway. In the distance, the echo of the men’s footsteps carrying her away could be heard, but soon, even that sound disappeared.

⊹ ・・───・・・・ ───  ⊹

Momo opened her eyes in shock and confusion. The room was cold, with metallic walls illuminated by bluish lights, and in front of her were three disturbing-looking figures. With elongated heads, greyish skin and large, dark eyes, they looked like something straight out of a science fiction movie. One of them stepped forward and spoke in a monotonous, metallic voice:

"Greetings, human. We are Serpoians. We are called that because we come from the planet Serpo."

"Aliens?" Momo frowned in disbelief. Her mind struggled to comprehend what was happening. However, the evidence was undeniable: she was facing something that surpassed any logical explanation.

"Do not be afraid," another of the Serpoians continued with inhuman calm. "We are a peaceful species."

Momo, far from calming down, gritted her teeth. Her eyes frantically scanned the room as she tugged at the restraints holding her wrists. “Peaceful? Nice guys don’t kidnap girls! Where are my clothes?”

One of the aliens pointed to a nearby table where his clothes lay, in tatters. “Your belongings were handled with care. The damage was… accidental.”

“Accidental?! This isn’t cheap! You’re going to pay for this! And I demand that you return me to my home right now!” he shouted, his voice filling the room.

Despite his protests, the Serpoians seemed immune to his fury. “Our species is entirely male,” one explained in a mechanical tone, as if he were reciting a lesson. “For millennia, we have reproduced through cloning, but this has led to the loss of our emotions and genetic diversity. We seek to regain our biological capabilities… using your genetic code.”

“My what?” Momo looked at them with a mix of confusion and disgust. “You’re completely insane! I will not be a part of your Frankenstein experiments!”

Before she could say anything else, the sound of a sliding door interrupted the tension. A tall, sleek figure strode into the room. His futuristic suit gleamed in the light, form-fitting and full of metallic detailing. His face was hidden behind a sleek helmet that reflected his surroundings like a liquid mirror. His presence was imposing.

“Where is my payment?” he demanded in a firm, authoritative voice.

The Serpoians turned to her. One of them held up a black suitcase. “Here you go. However, it is less than agreed. You delivered late.”

The woman crossed her arms, her posture conveying palpable disdain. “My mentor accepts no excuses. Neither do I. This deal was for a larger sum.”

“The delay justifies the reduction,” one of the aliens replied coldly.

The woman clicked her tongue, visibly upset. Meanwhile, Momo, though still terrified, could not take her eyes off the newcomer. There was something in her voice, in the way she moved… Something that felt strangely familiar.

Her eyes widened as she connected the pieces. “Y/n?” she muttered, almost breathless.

The woman stopped. Slowly, she turned her head towards Momo. Although the helmet still obscured her face, the slight shift in her posture made her discomfort clear.

The room fell into a tense silence following Y/n’s words. Momo stared at her in disbelief, her lips trembling as tears threatened to fall.

“What are you doing here, Y/n? What is this? Why are you with them?” she asked with a mix of rage and desperation.

Y/n let out an audible sigh, placing her hands on her hips. “It’s not personal, Momo. It’s just work. You… were the target. I was paid to bring them what they needed. Nothing more.”

“Nothing more?” Momo raised her voice, her tears finally overflowing. “Is that what I am to you? A job? We were supposed to be friends! I was supposed to be able to trust you!”

Y/n’s helmet reflected the cold lights of the room, hiding any emotion that might have been on her face. But the stiffness of her shoulders gave her away. She tried to stand her ground, looking at Momo from a distance. “This isn’t about you or us, Momo. It’s about… surviving. You don’t understand how my world works. No one survives without making sacrifices.”

“Sacrifices?! Is that what I am to you? One more sacrifice to keep you going?” Momo screamed, struggling against the restraints that kept her immobilized. “You were my friend, Y/n! I trusted you like no one else! I always thought you would understand me!” But here you are, giving me away like I'm... like I'm a thing!”

Momo's words hit like a hammer. For a moment, Y/n stood still, unable to respond. Something in Momo's voice, in the broken sincerity of her words, touched her heart.

“Do you remember what you told me when you picked me up that night?” Momo continued between sobs. “You said that no matter what, you'd be there for me. That friends never betray each other. And look at you now... giving me away like I'm worthless.”

The tension in the room was almost palpable. Even the Serpoians fell silent, watching the confrontation.

Y/n lowered her head slightly, her voice sounding lower, almost unsure. “It's not that simple, Momo... I—”

“Don't give me excuses!” Momo interrupted her, her voice cracking. “Look at me! Tell me that all of this is worth it! “Tell me you’re okay with what you’re doing!”

Y/n stood still for a few seconds that seemed like an eternity. Then, she took a step back, clenching her fists at her sides. “I’m sorry,” she muttered, barely audible. Without another word, she turned to the Serpoians. “The deal is done. I’m leaving.”

“Y/n!” Momo screamed, her voice filled with desperation. “Please! Don’t leave me here! Please don’t do this to me!”

But Y/n didn’t stop. She headed for the door without looking back, her bright figure disappearing into the dimness of the hallway. Just before the door closed, Momo, her voice cracking, let out one last scream that echoed in the silence:

“I would never have done this to you, Y/n! Never!”

The echo of her words hung in the air, and for an instant, Y/n stood on the other side of the door. Her shoulders shook slightly, but she didn’t turn around. With a quick movement, she disappeared, leaving Momo alone, her sobs filling the room as the Serpoians turned their attention back to her.

“Why…?” Momo whispered through her tears. “Why did you do this to me?”

The Serpoians had run out of patience. One of them approached with cold, calculated movements, a strange humming sound emanating from his device.

“Let us prepare to extract the necessary organs. Your resistance is irrelevant,” one declared in a metallic voice.

Momo struggled uselessly against the restraints, her face drenched in tears. “Get away from me! You cannot do this!”

The alien lifted the probe, slowly bringing it closer to Momo. “We will begin the procedure now.”

Suddenly, the sound of a ringtone broke through the air, Momo’s mobile phone began to vibrate on the nearby table. The Serpoians paused, staring at it curiously.

“External interruptions are not acceptable,” one of them said, reaching out a hand to take the device.

Before she could touch it, the phone’s screen lit up in a deep red. A deep vibration filled the room, and suddenly, a figure emerged from the screen: Y/n, holding a strangely designed pistol.

“Did I interrupt something again?” she asked in an icy tone, pointing directly at the Serpoians.

Beside her, staggering, appeared the boy possessed by Turbo Granny. His body was bent at impossible angles, and his eyes shone with a mix of fear and rage.

“Ayase!” Ken shouted, struggling to stay on his feet as Turbo Granny seemed to control his movements.

The aliens took a step back, observing the scene with a mix of shock and wariness.

“How did you get in here again, Agent Jean Jacket?” one of the Serpoians demanded, raising his hands in a defensive stance.

Y/n let out a dry laugh, though her gaze remained fixed on them. “Let’s just say I have my ways.”

Momo, still trapped in the chair, stared at Y/n in disbelief and rage. “Now you decide to show up?! After everything you did?!”

“This doesn’t change anything, Momo,” Y/n said without looking at her, her voice strained. “This is still not personal.”

“Please don’t give me that again!” Momo screamed, tears sliding down her cheeks.

For an instant, Y/n hesitated, but didn’t respond. Instead, she pulled the trigger on her gun, firing a beam that struck one of the Serpoians, knocking it to the ground.

Turbo Granny, controlling Ken, let out a terrifying shriek and launched herself at another alien, biting it ferociously on the torso.

“Momo, take cover!” Y/n screamed as the remaining aliens began to respond to the attack, their suits glowing as they prepared to fight back.

“I can’t! I’m tied up!” Momo screamed in desperation, pulling at the straps with all her might.

Ken screamed in desperation, his body still fighting against Turbo Granny’s possession. Tears fell from his eyes as the words filled the room, his voice cracked from years of repressed pain.

“No matter how many times I called you, you never came!” He exclaimed, fists clenched, body tense under Granny’s control. “There I was bullied by children, ignored by aliens… children paid me to beat them up!”

Ken’s words were desperate, but the fury and pain seemed to give him the strength to keep fighting. “My life sucked! And no one cared if I was alive or dead… but (Y/n) and Miss Ayase were the only ones who stood up for me! So get your filthy hands off her!”

At that moment, a spark of control seemed to surge within him. His body trembled, but his mind struggled to take back the reins, preparing to attack. Anger fueled him, his will finally regaining some strength.

Momo, from her position, screamed in desperation, unable to do anything but watch as the fight raged. “Hidden-kun! Do it! We need you!”

But amidst the chaos, the aliens began to move, aware of the growing threat Ken posed. One of them, still reeling from Turbo Granny’s impact, gave an order. “Get those humans! They won’t let this end well!”

The tension rose, but the worst seemed yet to come. A Serpoian, with cold, calculated movements, approached Momo, holding her by the shoulders tightly. “If you don’t give us what we ask for, you’ll regret it,” he said in a monotone voice, while his companion watched Ken, who was still trying to break free from Granny’s influence.

“Gross!” one of the other aliens commented, watching the scene become more and more chaotic.

Momo looked at Ken, fighting against his own body, knowing that control was fragile. “Ken! Don’t give up! You can do it!” he shouted, his voice filled with desperation.

“Enough of all this!” The voice, firm and full of power, boomed through the room.

It was Y/n. Her presence was imposing, the helmet reflecting the light from the screens, but behind it, her expression was determined.

“I won’t let them hurt you anymore, Momo!” she said, as she raised her gun towards the Serpoians.

One of them tried to react, but a direct shot to his torso stopped him dead in his tracks.

“Hmm?”

Momo briefly looked away at Ken, but soon returned her focus to Turbo Granny, whose teeth were still piercing her calf.

“I’ll eat your cock!”

“What?” Y/n stepped back, horrified, but still trying to understand the situation.

“I… it’s not me! It’s Turbo Granny!”

“Are you really the only ones who can save me?” Momo thought, as her eyes focused on Ken. The situation was becoming more and more chaotic.

The alien and Momo watched the conflict in silence. Finally, the alien turned his gaze to Momo, noticing the chaos between the humans. “Now I will begin with the excitement.”

He extended his hand over Momo, who closed her eyes, feeling a growing pressure. Her face twisted in disgust as, for a moment, she thought she could no longer get out of this situation. It was then that, in her mind, an image from her childhood began to emerge: an important memory of her grandmother.

“Release your chi.”

“I don’t want to...”

Momo, as a little girl, found herself at the entrance of her grandmother’s house, long before she met you or Ken.

“The other kids always make fun of me for that. I look stupid.” Momo explained to the older woman, as her grandmother knelt in front of her with a calm smile.

“No, it’s not like that… When you release your chi, you will never get hurt or sick. It will also help you keep evil away.” Grandma placed her hands gently on Momo’s shoulders, before taking her small hands firmly.

“Now, tense your abdominal muscles and imagine your chi rising from the top of your head.”

Momo, with effort, tried to follow the directions. Immediately, a painful memory flashed through her: the children laughing at her when she tried to do that pose.

“I hate it! I won’t do it again!” Momo screamed, shaking her head as her eyes widened in fury.

Her grandmother, still patient, held out her hand, asking for calm. “Momo! Wait!”

“I hate you, Grandma! You’re an imposter!”

That moment of anger made the memory flash through her mind in a distorted way. However, deep down, Momo knew she didn’t hate her grandmother. She only felt ashamed, something she was now beginning to understand.

Then, he began to imagine his grandmother’s words, remembering the technique she had taught him. As he visualized the flow of her chi, something inside him triggered, and, in that instant, the chair containing her broke under her energy.

The fight between Ken and Momo stopped at the same time, both of them staring in amazement as Momo began to levitate.

“What?! She never said she had psychic powers!” Ken exclaimed, his eyes wide as Momo floated.

With a slight bend in her legs, Momo raised her hands, looking at the two men around her in surprise. “I… I didn’t know I had them either.”

The alien who had tried to attack extended his hands towards Momo, but she, now fully focused, stared at him. “My psychokinesis is being repelled by a higher force. What’s going on? Maybe the human’s brain waves were overloaded, allowing her to access her chakra.”

Momo, fascinated by the piece of metal floating above her hand, turned her gaze towards the alien with a determined smile. “She’s not an impostor! My grandmother is a genuine medium! Thank you, Grandma!”

Meanwhile, the boy tried to bite Y/n and in the process, ripped off her helmet, revealing Y/n’s pastel blue skin and the dark blue glowing antennae emerging from her head.

She tried to defend herself, trying not to shoot him with her gun, but he scratched her skin, making fissures that healed automatically.

Momo stood up and, with her newly acquired powers, launched a powerful kick at the alien. However, he raised his arm and stopped her with force. “Now I have the power to face these monsters! And make them fly!” Momo shouted, full of determination.

With a last effort, she kicked the alien, sending him through the walls. The explosion that followed was deafening, and the lights in the room began to flicker violently.

Momo screamed as she felt her body collapse, as she watched the destruction falling around her. “We are inside a real UFO!” she exclaimed, surprised, looking around for Y/n and Ken, and finding them on the ground fighting, she was horrified. “(Y/n)! Occult-kun!”

Swiftly, Momo approached Granny Turbo. Suddenly, her body began to glow with a clear light, while her hair flowed wildly. At that moment, the curse that weighed on Ken disappeared.

Suddenly, the room darkened, turning red. Before them, Granny Turbo appeared, her gaze fixed and malicious. “Who the hell are you two?” she said, her voice cold and challenging.

Turbo Granny curled her fingers, causing Ken to pull away from Y/n, his body arching as a painful gurgle came from his lips. Momo watched, eyes wide, recoiling slightly as she saw how Ken was still under Granny’s control. “Granny is out of her body!” she exclaimed, alarmed. “But he is still under her curse!”

“This child belongs to me,” Turbo Granny said with a mocking smile. “As long as I have him, the curse will not be lifted. I can't stay here for long, but if you want me to free him, go to the tunnel. If you want to fight me, come to me. Damn classless bitches!”

“Who are you calling a bitch, you filthy old woman?! Give him his penis back!” Momo shouted at the ghost that was walking away.

Y/n, seeing Momo so worried and determined, quickly approached her and, with unexpected strength, lifted her into her arms. Momo blushed at feeling so close to her, her cheeks turning red as she couldn't help but look down, avoiding Y/n's eyes, which were shining with determination.

“Don't worry! We're going to get out of here,” Y/n said firmly, beginning to quickly climb the walls of the UFO with the agility of an expert. Momo clung to her, the warmth of her body comforting her, but her mind was filled with chaos. In her chest, a strange feeling was born, something she had never felt before.

Ken, still disoriented from the curse and the explosion, was on the ground, slowly recovering. Y/n, still moving, lifted him up with one hand, placing him on her back as she continued to ascend.

“Come on, Ken! You have to get up, we have to go now!” Y/n shouted, and Ken, his eyes still somewhat clouded, nodded weakly.

The room was crumbling around them, and a dark energy filled the air. The walls were beginning to shake violently, and the lights flickered desperately. Momo, her face still flushed from the closeness to Y/n, looked down as they ascended, unable to stop her heart from beating faster than normal. What was this strange feeling that was invading her?

Suddenly, a loud boom shook the UFO, and a gigantic explosion went off behind them. The walls began to give way, and the ship seemed to be on the verge of total destruction. Y/n, not losing her cool, leapt forward, bringing Momo and Ken with her in her leap, escaping just before the UFO exploded into a ball of fire.

With a deafening bang, the UFO disintegrated behind them, and in the air, Y/n, Momo, and Ken flew through space, jumping out of the ship's reach, completely safe but on the verge of despair.

Momo hugged Y/n tightly, no longer caring about the blush, as the wind whipped at them, and Ken's body rested on Y/n's back. The scene was chaotic, but it had all happened so fast, and the only thought running through Momo's mind was how she felt so strangely calm in Y/n's arms, as the ship crumbled behind them.

"Are we safe?" Ken asked, his voice weak, as he watched the distance between them and the exploding ship.

"Yes," Y/n answered, without hesitation. "We're safe... for now."

But as they floated in the air, Momo couldn't help but wonder how they could have survived all of that. And even more so, how her feelings towards Y/n seemed to have changed in a matter of seconds, and what it all meant to her.

⊹ ・・───・・・・ ───  ⊹

Near Kamigoe Prefecture, a curious pastel-green being walked casually through the crowded streets of the city. It had the appearance of a puppy dog, though its size, its long antennae that glowed faintly in the daylight, and its tail that swung like a whip of jelly made it clear that it was no ordinary dog. In one hand it held a burrito wrapped in silver paper, and in the other, a large soda that made gurgling sounds with each step.

The little alien eagerly bit into the burrito, spilling some of the sauce on the ground. It paused for a moment, sucking its fingers before continuing to walk. Its attitude was that of someone who belonged there, though it didn’t bother to hide the strangeness of its appearance. People watched it in awe, but the alien seemed immune to the curious glances.

“Mom, look! A puppy!” exclaimed a little girl with braids, pointing at it with joy.

The being stopped dead in its tracks, its ears (or what seemed to be ears) perking up at the sound. It slowly turned its head towards the little girl, its eyes shining like a pair of tiny green suns. “Who are you calling a puppy, kid!?” it shrieked in a high-pitched voice with an accent that seemed to be from another planet… literally.

The little girl’s mother froze, tugging on her daughter’s hand as she tried to process what had just happened.

“Speak, Mom! The puppy is speaking!” the excited little girl shouted, tugging on her mother’s arm.

The alien, offended, snorted and raised his donkey towards the little girl, as if it were some sort of weapon. “Hey, on my planet, insulting someone by calling them a puppy is a declaration of war, you know? But I’m too busy today to respond to your taunts.”

The mother, now completely terrified, dragged her daughter away from the little being, muttering something about “moving to the country.” The alien pup shook his head as he took a long sip of his soda, producing a clattering sound that drew even more stares.

“Humans…” he muttered tiredly, his antennae twitching in slight annoyance. “You can’t just walk around town without someone mistaking you for a pet.”

He continued on his way, dodging the crowd with surprising agility for someone with a burrito and a soda in his hands. Every so often, he would stop in front of a store to admire some product, though he quickly grew bored and kept moving.

A man in a suit saw him pass by and frowned. “Is that… a dog in a costume?”

“I’m not a dog!” the alien shouted without even turning around. “And stop looking at me like that or I’ll throw my burrito in your face!”

The threat seemed to have an effect, and the man walked away muttering something about “needing more coffee.”

The little creature finally reached the entrance to the town, where the lights were beginning to fade and the shops were turning into open fields. It stopped and looked out at the horizon, its antennae leaning forward as if it were sensing something. It took a last sip of its soda, letting out a loud burp that echoed through the air.

“Fine…” it said, wiping its mouth with the back of its hand. “Now I just need to find that damn ship before someone else calls me a puppy.”

He continued walking towards the end of the city, his half-eaten burrito still in his hand. Behind him lay a line of perplexed humans, and ahead of him a fate awaited him that, as always, would be anything but boring.

The little alien continued to walk with a sure step, enjoying his half-finished burrito, when suddenly, his antennae began to vibrate intensely. A slight buzzing sound went through his head, as if he had tuned into a distant frequency. His expression tensed, and his eyes, which used to shine with indifference, now narrowed with seriousness.

“What the…?” he muttered, looking around as if searching for the source of the phenomenon. His antennae continued to vibrate, and the buzzing sound grew higher. Then, looking up, he saw it.

In the distance, a thick column of black smoke rose from the old university hospital, followed by an explosion that lit up the sky as if it were a misplaced fireworks display. The alien dropped his soda, which slowly rolled to a stop in a sewer.

“No way!” he screamed, bringing his hands to his antennae as if trying to stop the humming. He looked back at the hospital, frowning in a mix of disbelief and exasperation. “Y/n did it again?!”

The small being began to walk faster, then trotted, muttering under his breath. “I told you not to go soft on the merchandise! But no, you always have to play the heroine, dammit!”

He paused for a moment, as if he had remembered something, and shook his head in frustration. “And you sure left a mess behind, like always! By all the rings of Saturn, you’re really going to listen to me this time!”

With one last glance at the burning hospital, he let out an annoyed growl. “I hope you at least saved something valuable, because if not…”

The little alien ran off on his short legs, leaving his donkey forgotten on the ground. His pastel green silhouette was lost in the shadows, while the smoke from the hospital covered the horizon, promising chaos and answers in the distance.

A/N ── Oh, hey, it's me again.

First off, let me tell you something: I'm in love with Dandadan. Seriously, I can't even explain how much I was hooked on this series from the moment I found out how it went. It was like a cosmic crush. Each chapter left me more hooked, more obsessed, and obviously I couldn't resist. I ended up buying the ENTIRE manga set that was available so far. I literally couldn't wait to find out what was going to happen with Momo after those last chapters that left me with my heart in my throat. This series is pure magic and chaos, and I can't get over it.

Now, let's talk about my baby, or Y/n. Let me tell you that her spacesuit is directly inspired by Smart Lady from a Japanese series (if you know which one, you're one of mine). I wanted something that screams alien but with style, and I feel like I nailed it... sort of. But, here comes the kicker: her personality is still not well defined. She's a mess, I admit. But that's the whole idea. Because she's an undercover alien, her personality changes depending on the environment she's in. It's like she's constantly adapting to fit in, but at the same time, that lack of consistency is part of her identity. Existential drama at its finest!

And here comes the tricky but interesting part: the character doesn't have a defined gender. Visually, she could pass for a woman, and she identifies as a woman because that's how she feels, but here's the plot twist: she has no defined genitals. Yes, you read that right. She's neither biologically male nor female. She's something beyond that, something that she may not even fully understand. For now, she treats herself as a woman because that's what feels most comfortable and natural to her earthly experience, but... does it really matter? I want to explore how that ambiguity affects her, how it influences the way she sees herself and her interactions with others. It's a key part of her story that I hope to develop little by little.

Oh, and regarding the technical chaos... I know this first part had its problems. It was published by itself, the dialogues were poorly arranged, it was very long, blah, blah, blah. But now, it's all well and good. I think.

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kathlare · 2 days ago

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crossroads of the past

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Set amidst the vibrant energy of race day in Austin, the chapter explores the internal struggles of Lando Norris as he wrestles with unresolved emotions and the weight of an unexpected upcoming reunion.

Wordcount: 1.3 k

Warnings: just fluff

request over here!

October 22nd, 2023 - Austin, TX

The dry Texas heat hung over the Circuit of the Americas like a heavy blanket, even in the morning. Lando leaned against the side of the flatbed truck, the one they'd all pile into for the driver parade. Around him, engines roared faintly in the background, and the buzz of fans filtered through the paddock. The energy of race day always had a distinct pulse to it, but today, his mind felt... elsewhere.

—This fucking heat, man,— Charles muttered, running a hand through his damp hair as he leaned against the same truck. —Why does it always feel like we're about to melt here?—

Lando chuckled, dragging a hand through his own hair. —At least it's not humid. Could be worse.— His tone was light, but his head was far from the conversation.

The group of drivers waited together, some talking animatedly while others scrolled on their phones or sipped water. Checo, standing with his arms crossed and a small grin on his face, looked particularly content.

—What’s with the smile, mate?— George asked, his British accent cutting through the air as he nudged Checo lightly. —Did you finally bribe Christian to let you swap cars with Max?—

The group laughed, but Checo waved a hand dismissively. —No, no. Just excited for next week.—

—Ah, Mexico,— Alex chimed in, nodding thoughtfully. —Always such a good crowd there. They love you, don’t they?—

Checo smiled proudly, his chest puffing slightly. —Of course. It’s always special to race at home. My family will all be there, Stella too, and her side of the family is coming as well.—

At this, Lando’s ears perked up. His grip on the railing of the truck tightened slightly, though he kept his face neutral.

—Amelie’s coming too, I imagine?— Charles asked casually, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

Checo nodded, not noticing the way Lando stiffened beside him. —Yeah, of course. She wouldn’t miss it. She’s been busy with projects this year, but family’s family. She’ll be there.—

Lando’s chest felt tight, like the heat of the Texan sun had turned inward and was pressing against his ribs. He turned his gaze to the horizon, pretending to focus on the distant grandstands, but his mind was already racing. Amelie. He hadn’t seen her since July at Penelope’s birthday party, and even then, they hadn’t exchanged more than a stilted greeting.

It was hard not to let her name pull him under. Amelie. A name he’d tried to push out of his head more times than he could count, only for it to find its way back like a stubborn echo. Every time he thought of her, it was like opening an old wound—one that never quite healed, no matter how much time had passed.

Lando swallowed, forcing himself to stay rooted in the present. But Checo’s words had stirred something in him, a restless energy he hadn’t expected. Next week in Mexico. She’d be there.

For a moment, the noise around him seemed to fade. Lando stared ahead, his jaw tightening. He tried to remind himself how things had been left between them: messy, unresolved, and painful. Yet, even with all the bitter memories, all the fights and misunderstandings, there was a spark of something else—a longing that he couldn’t quite shake.

—You alright there, mate?— George’s voice snapped him back to the present. Lando blinked, realizing he’d been gripping the edge of the truck a little too tightly.

—Yeah, yeah,— he said quickly, forcing a grin. —Just zoned out. Heat’s getting to me.—

George raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further. Around them, the conversation shifted to strategy, tires, and turn specifics. But Lando’s mind was stuck on Checo’s words. Family’s family. She’ll be there.

He didn’t need a reminder of how close Amelie was to Checo’s family—or to her sister Stella, who had practically become his surrogate big sister during his early F1 years. For better or worse, their paths were always intertwined, even if he tried to avoid it. And now, he’d have to see her again in Mexico.

The last time they’d spoken properly felt like a lifetime ago. It was May 2021, right before everything crumbled between them. She was busy filming Wicked, her star rising higher than ever, while he was in the thick of the F1 season. At the time, it felt like their lives were moving in completely different directions, and Lando had convinced himself that walking away was the best choice. He’d even told himself it was mutual—she was too busy, he was too busy—but deep down, he knew better. He’d hurt her. And in the process, he’d hurt himself too.

And then there was Penelope’s birthday in July. That fleeting moment when they crossed paths again, and all he could manage was a pathetic, awkward “hi.” She hadn’t looked angry, but she hadn’t looked happy to see him either. Just indifferent. And somehow, that hurt more than anything.

—You’re thinking about her, aren’t you?— Charles’ voice cut through his thoughts, quiet enough that only Lando could hear.

Lando turned sharply, his face flushing. —What? No. Who?—

Charles gave him a knowing look, leaning closer so the others wouldn’t hear. —Amelie. Don’t bullshit me, mate. You’ve had that same look on your face since Checo brought her up.—

Lando groaned, running a hand through his hair. —Fuck off, Charles.—

—Relax,— Charles said with a smirk. —I’m just saying, maybe you should talk to her. It’s been what, two years? You can’t avoid her forever.—

—We don’t talk for a reason,— Lando muttered, his voice low. —And it’s not exactly the kind of thing you just... fix overnight.—

Charles shrugged, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the truck. —Maybe. But if you’re still thinking about her this much, maybe it’s worth trying. You’re not the same guy you were two years ago. At least, I hope not.—

Lando didn’t respond, but the words hit him harder than he wanted to admit. He wasn’t the same guy he’d been in 2021. Or at least, he hoped he wasn’t. Back then, he’d been impulsive, selfish, and too wrapped up in his own insecurities to realize what he had until it was gone. Now, two years later, he’d like to think he’d grown up—at least a little.

But would Amelie see that? Would she even care?

—Alright, lads, time to load up!— one of the organizers called, gesturing for the drivers to climb onto the truck.

As they moved into position, Lando’s thoughts were still spinning. Next week, he’d see her again. He didn’t know how, or when, or what he’d even say to her, but he knew one thing for sure: he wasn’t going to waste the opportunity.

This was his chance. His chance to prove to her—and to himself—that he’d changed. That he could be the guy she needed, the guy she deserved.

And maybe, just maybe, he could fix what he’d broken.

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uncanny-tranny · 1 year ago

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What they don't tell you about testosterone-induced body hair growth is that you'll see a sea of new baby hairs all over your body but there will be one hair that's like... fucking twice as long at least and sticks out so bad compared to everywhere else 😭

#trans #transgender #lgbt #lgbtq #ftm #nonbinary #i think it's funny #staring at that One Hair on my arm like: how did you get here...#and it'll always be ONE hair that's like a fucking overachiever who's trying So Hard to be Noticed by You #i think this is funny and endearing and human bodies are cool 👍#yes i'm aware that this isn't a trans-exclusive experience but this experience is deeply correlated to *me* being trans #reminds me of the scene in gravity falls where that dipper kid is showing off his one (1) singular chest hair #(i don't watch gravity falls but i did watch that one scene. don't inundate me with GF content i beg of you (lighthearted))

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classyrbf · 1 month ago

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prisoner!geto who gets sent to the infirmary after getting into a fist fight with another prisoner. His knuckles and lip are bruised and busted and he’s doing the walk of shame down the jail hall. But he doesn’t expect a pretty young woman to be running the infirmary, nearly drooling at the sight because it’s been almost 3 whole years since he last laid his eyes upon one. He’s eyeing you up and down look a piece of meat while you tend to his wounds, completely ignoring his advances because it’s unprofessional. Though, you do find him quite handsome with tattoos all over his arms, a muscular build and his long silky black hair, his smile adding the cherry on top.

“You new here? I’ve never seen you around before.” He watches you put some gloves on, grabbing a roll of small bandages. “Pretty brave of you to be working in all male prison, don’t you think?”

“You must end up in here quite a lot if you know everyone who works here,” you sigh, grabbing his hand and wiping down the dried blood from his knuckles. “I transferred from another prison. It’s nothing I’m not used to.”

He smirks, narrowing his eyes at you. “Oh, yeah? Must be used to all the flirting then.”

“Wow! How could you tell?” You say sarcastically and toss the dirty wipe into the trash beside you. You wrap his hand up with the bandage and toss your gloves into the trash. “You’re all set.”

“Did I mention my head is killing me?” He winced.

“If you’re trying to get pain killers prescribed to you, it’s a whole different process. So I suggest you stop lying and wasting both of our time.” You place your hands on your hips, staring at him.

“Fine.” He stands to his feet, tall stature shadowing over you. You step back a little the more he steps closer to you. “I’ll cut to the chase. I haven’t properly fucked someone in nearly three years, and I’m dying…dying to get a feel of your sweet, sweet pussy.” He backs you into a corner, neck craning down as he whispers in your ear. “Think you can help me with that, doctor?”

You blink at him, your throat feels dry and your heart is pounding against your ribcage. “That is very, very unprofessional.” No matter what words come out your mouth, your body is feeling the complete opposite. “I’ll call the guards right now—”

“C’mon, pretty please?” The corner of his lips tweak slightly. “I know you want to. I seen it on your pretty face since the moment I walked in.” He raises his bandaged hand and runs his thumb over your plump bottom lip.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” you sternly say. Oh, but he does. He’s reading you like a book right now and that smug look on his face knows it all.

“Okay,” he chuckles, stepping away from you. “Just know I’ll see you around.” He turns to walk out the infirmary and let the guard know he’s all set, but he suddenly turns back around. His eyes look at the name tag pinned to your shirt. “Such a beautiful name.” He teases. “Bye, doctor.”

#—☆classyrbf #jjk #jujustu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk smut #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto smut #geto drabble #geto suguru smut #geto x reader smut #geto suguru x reader smut #jjk x reader smut #suguru geto #suguru geto x reader #geto suguru Drabble #jjk drabble #jjk geto #geto suguru

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nezuscribe · 2 months ago

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gojo never imagined an arrange marriage with you, but now you’re all he can think about.

he thinks about you when he’s training, when he’s seated at his round table, when he’s in his bed, everywhere, every time, you’re all he can think about.

and you’re oblivious to it.

you heard the gossip everywhere you walked, about the girl gojo was pleading with his family to marry. how much he loved her, how beautiful she was, how much more elegant she was compared to you. you knew you were never his first choice, not even his fifth, but it hurt even more when everybody acknowledged it.

you stopped wearing your wedding ring, started acting like you were just another person there. luckily gojo didn’t seem to be in any hurry about making heirs, so pretending like you two were working things out didn’t even matter anymore.

you find yourself alone most of the time. your maids were kind and patient, but they had so many things to do throughout the day that you felt awful pestering them to walk around the estate with you.

eating dinners with gojo became normal, but most of your other meals were in silence, always feeling like a speck of dust in the large dining hall.

one day when you’re walking around aimlessly you stumble across the training grounds, the open space below you filled with men swinging wooden swords back and forth at each other.

it wasn’t difficult to find your husband, his white hair hard to miss in a crowd of others. he didn’t notice you watching from above, and so you stayed hidden, not knowing if the men were picky with who watched them.

he was swift and agile. everything he did was precise and with meaning. no wonder he was named the best warrior of the north.

you found this to be more entertaining than walking around the gardens for the tenth time or watching the cooks assemble the next meal, so you didn’t even notice how gojo looked up to see you, somehow slipping away without you knowing.

you were in a state of watching but not really thinking, almost jumping out of your skin when you heard his voice behind you.

“didn’t know i had an audience,”

you yelp, flinching as you look behind you to see your husband all sweaty, panting slightly as he moves his hair away from his face. you eye the stairs that led him up here, wondering how you could’ve missed that.

you laugh sheepishly, giving him an apologetic smile as you pick are your nails.

“i’m sorry,” you scratch behind your ears, feeling heat rise to your cheeks under his intense gaze. it’s unfair how pretty somebody can look, especially after training for an hour straight, “i was just walking around and i saw this.”

he waved it off, shaking his head as he leaned his sword on the wall.

“not a problem,” his eyes shine, “i just would’ve tried harder if i knew my wife was watching.”

my wife.

the words fall so smoothly from his lips you wonder how many times he’s said it before. with malice, hatred, necessity?

you smile a little bit, eyes crinkling around the edges as you look away briefly, not noticing the way gojo chased after your cheerful face.

“how’d you get up here? where are your ladies?” he asks suddenly, looking around at the fact that it was just you up here.

“my what?” you say, looking up at him through furrowed brows.

“you know,” he waves his arm around as if that would help, “you’re ladies in waiting,”

you scrunch up your nose a little bit, something he noticed you did when you were confused.

“oh, well, my maids are working right now,” you tell him, noting that he still didn’t look any less confused.

“no, not your maids, your ladies,” he tilts his head to the side, “the girls your family sent them up to help you around.”

you stare at him, unblinking.

“the girls that are your friends, the ones that help accustom you…” gojo trials off when he realizes he’s not getting anywhere with you.

you feel even more embarrassed than when he caught you watching him, hating the way you were clueless at yet another thing in this life that no one explained to you.

“the girls you hang around with?” he finally lands on, hoping this jogs your memory.

you shake your head, eyes wide as you fidget with the fabric of your dress. his eyes fall onto your finger, lingering on the fact that you’re not wearing your ring.

“who do you spend your time with throughout the day?” gojo seems even more lost than you. he’s seen you with…? well surely that one time…?

“by,” you swallow, embarrassed, “by myself. i walk around a lot.” you admit sheepishly.

“your family didn’t send…?” he answers his own question with his silence.

this entire time you’ve been alone?

he opens his mouth to speak but somebody beats him to it.

“satoru! get down here! we’re still not done!” his friends shouts from below, and you look over your shoulder to see all the men staring at the two of you.

gojo stares at you, unblinking.

“i,” he swallows but can’t find any words.

you can’t either.

he leaves you there, running down those stairs as he shouts at the other guys to resume what they were doing. that entire day he was off his balance because he kept looking up to see you there, but you weren’t.

maybe you were just walking around, like you said.

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #satoru x reader #gojo drabble #jjk x reader #jjk drabble #gojo angst #arranged!gojo

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augustinewrites · 7 months ago

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yesterday afternoon - after an unsuccessful coffee shop date - you’d decided that dating sucked. it was much too awkward and formal and not at all like it was in the movies, putting too much pressure on the people involved.

last night - after watching shoko flirt her way into free drinks - you’d been tipsy enough to take her advice.

casual sex! it doesn't have to be with a stranger, just pick someone you know. someone you’re sure you won't fall in love with.

this morning you’d woken up to find gojo laying in bed next to you.

you lay shoulder to shoulder with the one person you should not have picked, staring up at the ceiling, waiting for the other person to speak.

“did we really–”

“three times,” satoru confirms happily, rolling onto his side to grin down at you. “i'm surprised we didn't do this sooner, really. our sexual tension has always been off the charts.”

when he leans in to kiss you, his lips meet your palm as your expression wrinkles. “don’t get familiar.”

“we’re naked together in bed– we slept together in more than the literal sense. can’t get more familiar than that.”

“and this never happen again,” you promise, refusing to look at him.

“why? because you’re afraid you’ll fall in love with me? it’s okay to admit it. i'm extremely lovable.”

you’ve seen the way girls fawn over him. how they swoon over his pretty eyes and confident smile. he’s satoru gojo. a legend amongst jujutsu society. you’re no one in comparison, not a user of an otherworldly cursed technique, not from a major clan.

people like him don’t fall for people like you. you’re afraid of rejection, afraid of being hurt.

“we’re friends,” you tell him honestly. “i don’t want to risk ruining our friendship over something like this.”

he tilts his head as your look at him. “shoko told you to try casual sex, didn't she? why not with me?”

“she told you?” you groan, dragging a hand down your face and making a mental note to never ask your roommate for advice for anything ever again.

“hey, look at me,” he urges, grasping your hand. you do as he says, meeting his earnest gaze. “i can be casual and chill, it’s not like i have a huge crush on you or anything.”

it’s so hard to say no to him. you really wish you could.

“i’ll think about it,” you tell him, rolling your eyes when he fist pumps. “but you need to go home before shoko sees you.”

but you’re dealing with satoru gojo, who almost never does what he’s told. “you’re not getting rid of me that easily. come here.”

he winds an arm around you, pulli my you in so you’re snug against his chest. explicit memories of last night flash through your mind, sending heat through your veins.

“i can’t.” you tell him (though you’re mostly reminding yourself.) this is insane— satoru, what are you—”

you’re cut off when he shushes you, whispering let’s sleep in for a little while longer.

he starts to drift off again as you struggle to escape his grasp, but your efforts are futile. even on the throes of sleep, satoru is stronger than you.

so you give up, resigning yourself to a few more minutes of…cuddling. shoko isn’t a morning person anyways.

after a minute, you find it's not entirely awful. it’s a purely physical reaction. gojo is good looking, even with his hair mussed with sleep and his mouth hanging open. because you know that under the softness of his skin lays defined muscle, and spending the morning in his nicely toned arms isn’t the worst thing in the world.

(it’s purely physical, is what your head tries to convince your heart, which is beating a little faster than usual.)

a very soft, content sigh slips past your lips.

then, shoko knocks on your door.

“hey! don’t tell me you’re too hungover for grocery shopping.”

“shit!” you whisper harshly, shoving him away from you. “she cannot see you in here.”

“afraid you’ll have to share?” he teases, narrowly avoiding being hit with a pillow. “okay, okay! where do you want me?”

“closet!” you instruct, scrambling my around the room to make sure none of his clothes are lying around. you thrust them into his hands, pushing him into your closet.

he catches the door before you can close it, smiling down at you. “aren’t you glad we’re doing this?”

you shove him inside, slamming the door shut just ask shoko bursts into the room.

“hey,” you greet, trying your best to appear casual as you lean against the door. your heart beats in your throat, as she squints at you, then lets her gaze sweep across the room.

“did you bring someone home last night?”

“no.”

she looks at you. really looks at you, you think.

“okay,” she finally says, though you can’t tell if she believes you. “i just– i thought i saw you leave with gojo. suguru said you two were flirting all night.”

“gojo and i?” you try to laugh, but it comes out a little strained. “never in a million years.”

shoko only shrugs, and you let yourself relax when she turns to leave…

…only for her to turn around once more, leaning the the doorframe. “well if you really don't like him, just let him down easy, alright? suguru told me he has a huge crush on you.”

wait–

“gojo?”

you hear a sharp inhale through the door.

“yeah,” she nods. “you really couldn't tell?”

gojo…has a crush on you. it takes a few seconds to truly sink in. “i had no idea.”

“of course you didn't. he’s definitely got a really weird way of showing it.”

she turns to leave for real this time, but you wait a couple extra seconds before opening your closet, finding a wide eyed, blushing satoru staring at you.

you can't help but laugh. at his expression, at shoko’s revelation, at this entire situation.

dating sucks, but maybe it won’t be that bad if it’s with him.

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #gojo fluff

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pearlymel · 5 months ago

Text

A duty— Capitano

Synopsis: You were set to marry a fatui... Wait, is that a fucking harbinger?!

Wc: 3.3k

Warning(s): fem reader for this one, reader gets called "wife", Capitano is described to have dark blue eyes (i swear i did my research and they said yes to dark blue eyes), MDNI masturbation but no sex between them.

Notes: don't ask the reason why you are in an arranged marriage, my brain is fried. You can come up with your own reasons ! Wrote this with my eyes cursing at me to sleep so half not proofread. Part 2 is out here. Part 3 is out here!

Tick tock.

You watched as the clock ticked louder than usual, cringing to yourself when the sound became unpleasant to you, it was ringing in your ears.

Even the fatui around you were like statue's, you considered for a minute to check if they were even alive and breathing.

The door then swinged opened, everyone's head suddenly lowering slightly which made you even more confused, but you mimicked their gestures nonetheless for respect.

Heavy footsteps echoed in the room, the sound only getting louder and heavier the closer it got you.

The steps finally stopped, and your glance up to see a big—no, giant man standing right infront of you. He seemed to be wearing a helmet to cover his face, long black hair that protrutes from the back of his helmet and over his shoulders, and the big coat that was full of fur draped around his shoulders.

You must say, he went all out with his appearance as a fatui.

"Are you perhaps..." You started, breaking the silence that hung think in the air, "... The person who I'm arranged to marry?" You finish off, tilting your head curiously.

He doesn't answer immediately, rather, he looks down at you, observing your features which makes you wipe your sweaty hands to your sides.

"Il Capitano," he finally spoke, a raspy voice, you noted. Capitano extended his arm out for you, and you willingly accepted it, giving it a gentle shake.

"Member of the fatui Harbingers."

His next words made your hand freeze. Did he just say Harbinger? Not even a normal fatui like you thought, but a whole harbinger. Standing right before you, and shaking your hand.

Well you were screwed because what the hell have you gotten yourself into.

You both were quiet now, staring at eachother that it's becoming almost painfully awkward.

"Your name?" He asks, letting your hand go and it's like you were snapped back to reality when you immediately blurt out your name.

He repeats your name like you were on his kill-off list, but that was just overthinking on your part.

"I'd like your company from now on." He announced, stepping a tad closer to you which made you hold in your breath.

"then i shall be at your company..." Giving him your best small smile, you bowed your head again.

•••

Your wedding basically consisted of a witness and marriage papers that needed your signature. You didn't even get the chance to wear a traditional wedding dress nor have a honeymoon, which you don't think is necessary for now since everything was going too fast for your liking.

And Marina, your new personal maid, has become your new friend in this big estate of Capitano's, teaching you everything you must and mustn't do. Kind of like a 101 guide on how to be a wife.

Ever since that day a two months ago, you have not done anything but cause trouble.

You wanted to go out? Well you need your husband's permission. You want to eat something? Ask Marina first and she'll whip it for you no problem, and no you're not allowed to cook by yourself. You bombarded Capitano with questions about himself, but his answers wouldn't be enough as they were about a word or a sentence long.

As boring as that is, this is your life now for... Archons know how long. But you remember it being temporary, if your memory did not fail you.

Capitano had returned back to the estate for the night, and for the first time, you greeted him at the front door with a smile, wishing you could see him smile back at you.

"My lord," you bow elegantly like how Marina taught you, speaking even softly like nothing ever happened a week ago, the fit you remember throwing at him, demanding an answer on why you couldn't do anything around.

The silence in the hallways was deafening, broken only by the clanking of his armor as he took a step closer to you, his towering figure cast an intimidating shadow upon you. "It is rare," he spoke in a blunt tone, "to see you this obedient." Capitano paused, his gaze scrutinizing your every move. "You have been behaving recently?"

You couldn't help but fidget with the hem of your clothes nervously like you have been caught, a nervous quiet laugh escaping your lips, "i believe I've always behaved."

Capitano let out a terse sigh at your answer, his eyes unflinching through the slits of his helmet. "To your luck," he muttered, "you have been... tolerable." The word 'tolerable' hung heavily in the air, making it clear that it was the most positive adjective he could summon about you.

"However," he added after a few moments, "you seem more compliant than usual today. This is an... interesting change." His tone was questioning, as if hinting that he was wary of your compliance, expecting a hidden scheme behind it.

"Shall we have dinner?" You change the topic, changing your position to stand by his side so that both of you could walk to the dining room together. Capitano nods curtly, acknowledging your suggestion. He allows you to approach, though there is a stiffness in his movements as he lets you stand by his side.

The two of you begin walking to the dining room, your husband's steps were heavy, and it was evident that he was still in his full armor, the sound of his footsteps filling the hall.

"You are not usually the one to suggest dinner," he commented, "I thought today was nice... Despite how i always fight you, forgive me." you mumble apologetically.

You become quiet when he doesn't answer back, your hands clasped infront of you instead.

You both soon reached the dining hall, now sat opposite eachother on the dining table, Capitano's gaze remained fixed upon you as you both sat across each other, the coldness in his eyes didn't waver as he observed you intently. The silence seemed to thicken as the only sound in the room was the clinking of silverware against the ceramic dinnerware.

"How was your trip?" You asked casually while stuffing some veggies in your mouth.

"The trip was... uneventful," he replied tersely, pausing briefly before continuing. "The usual Fatui business, nothing that concerns you, wife." His words were as biting as ever, indicating that he wasn't keen on discussing his business matters with you.

"nofing mfun?" You ask again with your mouth too full this time, "don't speak with your mouth full of food." You swallow your food down when you caught a glimpse of disappointment in his tone, maybe he was even frowning if you could see him behind his helmet.

"i will retire to my chambers after this," you place down the silverware on the tablecloth to reach for the glass of water next to you. Capitano doesn't answer, but he nods slowly in return.

•••

The world was still and the moon illuminated the grounds outside, casting a soft glow upon the landscape. You could hear the occasional sound of crickets and the whispered rustle of leaves, creating a peaceful atmosphere inside the expansive estate.

The minutes ticked by slowly, each one seemingly longer than the last as you anticipated Capitano's return this time. You fidgeted with the sheets, as you waited, you recalled Marina's words, a distant memory echoing in your head, "It is custom for a wife to wait for her husband to return before she retires to bed." You never did that, no. You would always sleep before he did and he would always wake up before you did. It was rare to even see him on your side of the bed, only sometimes when you would wake up from a sudden heavy weight shifting next to you.

Despite being married for quite some time, the connection between you two was still distant and cold. Capitano didn't seem to care for you on any emotional level, instead seeing you as a mere accessory to his life as a mighty Capitano of the Fatui Harbingers. A possession rather than a wife, you thought.

Capitano's steps echoed through the room as he stepped into your bedroom, his footsteps heavy and deliberate. He closed the door behind him with a thump, shutting out the outside world and isolating the two of you in the room.

He observed you quietly for a moment, "You're not in bed yet?"

"i was waiting for you."

"And why, pray tell, were you waiting for me?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. "Marina..." You mumble, standing up from the bed while looking away in a bit of embarrassment, "she taught me it was custom for a wife to wait for her husband."

Capitano seemed even more surprised upon hearing your answer, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Marina... I see," he said slowly, of her name sending a ripple of irritation through him. Capitano disliked Marina's influence on you and how she seethe mentioned to be teaching you things.

He strode closer to you, by now you were used to his presence that it would not make you involuntary step back, you instead wait for his next move.

Lifting his hand to take a few strands of your hair was the last thing you expected. The strands resting on his hand as he lifted it closer to his helmet, almost like a gesture of kissing your hair which made you blink rapidly.

"You don't have to," he whispered, his thumb gently caressing the strands, "don't have to listen to Marina or anyone. You may do your own thing in this estate. I just want you well taken care of and safe."

You think you may have just fallen in love with the man because... Why is your heart beating so fast that it could explode? Or wait, can he hear it?

Capitano then let go of your hair, walking past you as he started loosening the straps of his armor, "it is late," he muttered with a rasp, his hands working quickly to remove his armor. The sound of armor being unthreaded echoed through the room, punctuated by the clinks of metal.

Taking off his helmet next so casually made your eyebrows furrow and sit back on the bed with your head tilted to get a closer look at him.

His eyes were glowing dark blue, the most beautiful shade of blue you think you've ever seen. The prettiest face too despite his dark and intimidating aura.

"you're beautiful." You whispered in awe, though Capitano, who was half-way through removing his armor, paused for a moment as he heard your words. He wasn't expecting such a compliment from you. It was rare for you to praise him, preferring to defy him more often than not.

"Beautiful?" he repeated, his voice gruff, you noticed his expressions and tried to act cool, your fingers nervously scratching your neck out of habit when you get shy.

"You're beautiful too, my wife." This completely caught you off gaurd, but it doesn't stop you from smiling and laughing it off quietly.

"Goodnight." Your head rests on the pillow, and this time you face him in your sleep, and he makes the effort to mimick your gestures.

"Goodnight."

•••

"Marina, where is my wife?" That was the first thing he asked your personal maid the moment he arrived back from his mission. His head looking around rather than looking down directly at Marina.

"The lady should be at her chambers."

"She's not."

"What?" Poor Marina's eyes widened, she was sure she just gave you a basket of fruits and snacks in your room, even asking you if you needed anything else.

"... Forgive me, my lord. She's probably in the bat—"

"She's not in the bathroom." He replied in a low, dangerous tone that sent a shiver down her spine.

Where are you, my lady? Marinas thought through gritted teeth before exhaling out shakily, "i shall go find her at once." Marina began looking around every corner of the estate, and each room she opened without you in it, she would lose two years of her life with Capitano following her.

You couldn't have escaped, right?

Finally when she hurriedly went to the back of the estate, she let out a sigh of relief when she saw you sitting outside on the grass with the basket of goods she handed you earlier.

You wave your hands and both Capitano and Marina with a bright smile, causing his shoulders to relax when you were at last seen having fun by yourself.

"you're going to get me killed one day." Marina mouthed at you, but since there was some distance between you both, you just smiled and shrugged at her.

Capitano approached you slowly, his purposeful stride carrying him towards you with measured steps. You were perched on the grass, happily savoring the treats in your hands, when he suddenly materialized before you. "Sit." You pat the space next to you, to which he obliged without hesitation.

"Have you ever done this before?"

"No."

"Never? It's nice."

"You do seem to be enjoying yourself." He hums thoughtfully, and your smile widens, "The last couple of months have been interesting, and i get to know you better now." You say before popping a blueberry in your mouth to chew on.

"Blueberry?" You offer, raising your hand while holding a blueberry in between your thumb and forefinger.

You might think your husband is shy by how he looks around at first before taking off his helmet, cute. Eventually he leans to take the fruit between his teeth before chewing silently, the slight fruit juice glistening on his lips before his tongue along with his thumb swiped over his lower lip.

"you know," you suddenly speak, drawing your hips near him, "we've never kissed yet."

He pauses, staring at you while thinking deep about it, "does it bother you?"

"No, does the idea bother you?" Your question held a mixture of uncertainty and intrigue.

Without a warning, his hand held your left cheek with gentleness, his lips slotting against yours for three seconds max before it ended.

What?

Your eyes were wide open the whole three seconds of it too!

"What was that?" The horror in your eyes was evident, not because you were scared, but because you were caught off guard and your eyes were fucking open. Capitano, upon seeing your eyes, he immediately tried pulling away, thinking he might've scared you in some way.

But you were quick to hold his wrist firmly so it wouldn't leave your cheek. "I liked it." You blurt out with the reddest cheeks ever, and he's almost amused.

"But it was too fast," you clear your throat before tilting your head closer, "may i, husband?" How can he refuse when you asked so nicely too?

Your lips latch onto his for the second time, and this time, you were going to give him a proper kiss. With your lips moving with ease against his, the sounds of soft smacks of your lips together filling the air which makes the tips of his ears go red.

You don't continue after both of you pull away to catch your breath, your eyes staring deeply into eachother as he pressed his lips into a thin line.

"Let's not do this again," your heart almost drops at his words. Did you mess up again? Did he not like how it felt—

"In public, i meant. I wouldn't like anyone to see you in such a state."

You can definitely hear the crickets in your head. "So we can continue kissing?"

"Mm," he only hums back before reaching for his helmet to put it back on. "I have to leave, i will be back by midnight," and when he stands up, it was your cue to stand up to bid him goodbye.

"Take care, husband." You wrap you arms around him, and he circles his arms back around you into a tight hug. It was not your first hug together, so you got used to the feeling of not being able to breath for a couple of seconds before of his tight arms around you.

•••

Capitano expected you to be awake when he returned from a few errands he had to run earlier, expecting you to wait for for him so that both of you could sleep at the same time ever since you did that day.

But you were asleep, peaceful and relaxed on your shared bed. You, wearing nothing but a silky nightgown like you always do, the blanket shuffled messily on you which revealed your legs slightly parted, and your arms hugging the pillow underneath you.

You looked like an angel to him, so vulnerable.. so pretty like this—god was he pent up from today.

He hands clenched tightly into fists until his knuckles turned white as he looked away, instead busying himself in taking off his usually neat coat which was now covered in few splatters of crimson red.

The sound of the running water masked his muttering, instantly regretting his thoughtlessness. As he grabbed the bar of soap, he began to wash vigorously, trying to expel the memories of combat and the musky scent of carnage. His body couldn't be gentler with himself though, as he massaged his muscles that ached from the constant strain.

His heartbeat quickened as his mind wandered back to you. You were the sweetest thing in his life, and he would never ever hurt you, in fact, he would rather die than have your precious skin scratched. Or even cutting off the heads without hesitating if one would hurt you.

He hates himself for envisioning your body under his, or thinking about how skilled you would be with your tongue or hands. he thought he was a selfish lustful man for thinking of such thing when you were sound asleep and tired.

Unable to bear it any longer, he reached for himself, stroking slowly at first before heavier thrusts took over all while imagining how it would feel like to be inside your soft and warm cunt instead of his hard and rough fist. The steam from the shower served to muffle his low groans, half in agony, half in ecstasy. Closing his eyes, he pictured your warm smile or shy and embarrassed facial expressions as his release came steadily forth, his forehead hit the cool tiles as he let out a deep, satisfied sigh.

After taking a moment to get himself together, he turned off the water and faced the mirror. How can he go back to bed after jerking off to the thought of your smile and sleeping figure? He would very much rather bang his head on the wall.

But he dried off with a sigh and headed back to bed, trying to keep his eyes half closed with his back turned to you as he sinked down on the mattress, taking a bit of blanket to cover himself with his eyes forced shut.

Your sudden arms that enveloped around him from behind is what gave Capitano a scare. A literal scare to the big man.

Were you awake this whole time? Did you hear him back in the bathroom? Was he too loud?

But your soft snores made his stiff shoulders sag in relief, indicating you were still in deep in your dreams.

He decided to turn around to face you, looking down at how innocent you looked, how the moonlight seemed to glow on your face from the window, giving your features a glowy shine.

"You have ruined me," he whispered carefully while brushing off strands of your hair away from your face to press a goodnight kiss on your forehead. "I am yours, ruin me, break me, and love me as much as you want, my wife."

#il capitano #genshin impact #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x reader #il capitano x reader #capitano #capitano x reader #fatui harbingers #genshin harbingers #capitano x you #capitano smut #genshin impact capitano

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