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mrsstruggle · 3 months
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The Beast of War - Chapter 1 // Teen Wolf x Marvel AU
This is the second part of the Shadow Wolf Series. Read The Lost Child First if you haven't!
Series Summary: In the aftermath of discovering her true identity and reuniting with her long-lost family, Y/N Stilinski finds herself adjusting to a new chapter of her life in Beacon Hills. With her brother and his friends in their senior year at High School, the town faces a fresh new threat. Y/N must navigate the complexities of her new life while confronting the looming threat that threatens to hurt her and the people she loves.
Warnings: Language, Mentions of Death/Injury/Grief/Torture, Possible Grammar Mistakes (please let me know if there is anything else)
Series Pairings: Derek Hale x Reader, Stiles Stilinski x Malia Tate (for now), Steve Rodgers x Bucky Barnes, Bruce Banner x Natasha Romanoff, Vision x Wanda Maximoff
Words: 4.5k
Note: I am aware this is late! Please don't hate me!
Additional Note: While this is a Teen Wolf x Marvel AU, not everything is true to the shows/movies/comics. I had to change things for the story.
One Last Note: Y/N was adopted by Tony Stark and Pepper Potts. I did this so more people can see themselves in this story.
***I do not own Teen Wolf or Marvel or any related characters. This is a work of fanfiction and is meant for entertainment purposes only.***
Masterlist
The Beast of War Masterlist
The Lost Child Masterlist
Previous Chapter
---
“Are you going to keep secretly writing notes about me or ask me that question you’ve been too afraid to ask?” Y/N questions, her eyes never leaving the computer where she is tying in the new patient information. She is currently six hours into her ten-hour shift.
The boy sitting on the exam table freezes. His thumbs stop typing in his notes app as he looks at Y/N in surprise. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Y/N rolls her eyes, “Mhm, sure. This is the fifth time you’ve been in this week, but you always seem to leave with nothing wrong. You either have hypochondria or you’ve kept coming back until I was your nurse.”
“Maybe the previous nurses and doctors didn’t do a good job and sent me home without properly helping me.” He picks at the bottom of his shirt in a nervous habit.
“The first time you came in was for pink eye, which has been noted that you didn’t have that. The second time was for a rash on your arm that you didn’t have.” Y/N says, looking over his previous visit notes, “The third time was a bump on your knee that turned out to be your kneecap. The fourth time was for a broken wrist that turned out to be broken or even sprained. Now you’re here due to flu-like symptoms, but your vitals are all good and there is currently no indication of you being sick.”
He forces out a fake cough, “Are you sure about that?”
Y/N turns to look at him, “I’m sure. You do know this is an emergency room, right? We have actual patients that need help, and we are short staffed. We don’t need some kid coming in trying to meet the Stark girl to get a good photo for his Instagram or whatever.”
“First of all, I’m not a kid—we’re the same age. Second, this isn’t for my Instagram, this is for my criminology class.” He says, dropping his act. He knew there was no point in tripling down on his lies.
“Well, your parents must have a lot of money or some really good insurance for you to be able to show up here five different times.”
“Something like that.”
Y/N looks him up and down, contemplating what she should do. She should just send him home, but she’s worried he will keep showing up until he gets what he wants. “The school year just started, why do you need to speak with me for your criminology class now?”
“Our first assignment is to do a paper on a famous crime. What’s more famous than the kidnapping of Tony Stark’s daughter?”
“I can think of several.” Y/N lets out a sigh, turning her body to fully face him, “You get five questions. If I don’t want to answer one, then it’s still going to count as one of your questions. After that, you have to leave and also promise not to come back here unless you have an actual emergency.”
He smiles in victory, turning his phone back on, “Do you mind if I record this so I can type out your answers later?”
“Sure.”
He opens the Voice Memos app on his phone, hits the record button, and holds it up between Y/N and himself. “Okay, first question, I am aware that the Avengers are currently relocating to a little outside of Beacon Hills, but have you been back to the other Avengers compound or the place you lived while with them?”
“No, I have not been back.”
He opens his mouth to ask her to elaborate but decides against it in case she counts that as a question. “Second question, what was your initial reaction when you discovered the truth?”
Y/N pauses as she thinks of an answer. For safety reasons, when they announced who she was, they changed the story of how it happened. Instead of telling the public she was re-kidnapped by Hydra, they told them about Bucky discovering the photo of her in Derek’s auto shop. It’s part of the reason some people like to show up there.
To the public’s knowledge, Hydra kidnapped her in hopes of raising her to be their soldier before she was able to escape on her own when they left her unattended outside. She was then found by a friend of Talia Stilinski and adopted by the Stilinski’s. To the public’s knowledge, Pepper didn’t hand her over to Hydra, she was never experimented on, she has no powers, and she didn’t know about the Avengers because she was too young—not because her memories were blocked.
“Mostly confusion. It’s not every day that someone shows up and claims to be your other family.  Now I’m just waiting for my biological family to do the same thing.” Y/N jokes.
“Third question, I know thanks to photos online that you spend some time with your brother, Peter, but have you spent any time with your sister, Morgan?”
Y/N debates on whether she wants to answer the question or not. The answer is no, she hasn’t spent any time with her sister, nor has she met her. She has nothing against Morgan, and she doesn’t blame her for Pepper’s actions, but she’s not sure if Morgan feels the same way. According to Peter, she is close with her mother, and her relationship with Tony is strained due to his shortcomings as a father to her.
Y/N is unsure if Morgan blames her for those shortcomings. It’s because of Tony’s obsession with finding her that caused him to neglect to be a good father for Morgan. It’s because of his resentment and anger toward Pepper’s nonchalance at Y/N being gone and her happiness toward the new baby that caused him to leave Pepper in the first place. It’s because of his grief of losing her that caused him to be unable to hold her until she was three years old.
It wasn’t until Morgan became a teenager did Tony start to step up as her father. He still isn’t perfect, and he can never make up for her younger years, but he is a lot better. Y/N adds Tony and Peter moving to Beacon Hills as another reason for Morgan to be justified to hate her.
Y/N knows that if Derek or Peter knew her thoughts about Morgan, they would tell her that she can’t blame herself for Tony’s mistakes. The choices Tony made were his own, not hers. Right now, she’s told Peter and Tony that the decision to meet, form a relationship, or anything is fully up to Morgan. She doesn’t want to cause any upheaval in Morgan’s life by inserting herself into it. If Morgan wants Y/N in her life, then she will be. If she doesn’t want anything to do with her, that’s okay. If she wants to meet her once and then never again, Y/N will do that too.
She does however know—thanks to Peter—that Morgan has decided that she prefers a private life away from the spotlight. While Peter attends all charity and public events in the Stark name, Morgan likes to stay home away from the crowds and paparazzi. She even keeps away from social media, so she doesn’t see anything about herself or her family.
“Um, I’m going to pass on that question. Morgan is a minor and prefers to stay out of the press. I don’t feel comfortable talking about whatever relationship I may or may not have with her. That’s private and it will stay that way.” Y/N answers. “You have two questions left.”
The guy huffs in frustration, “Fine. Fourth question, what are your thoughts on the theories and videos people were making after it was first brought to the public’s attention that you’re Y/N Stark?”
“I think the best word to describe I how felt, and still feel, about the things people were saying is disappointment. I’m disappointed in how people were, and still are, talking about my family. Honestly, I don’t really care what people say about me,” That’s a lie but she isn’t going to correct herself, “but I am disappointed in the way people talked about my family and the people I love.”
He nods his head in understanding, “Okay, last question, do you plan on changing your name back to Stark?”
No, she doesn’t. To be honest, it’s not even a thought that has crossed her mind. Scott asked her about it once when he saw her driver’s license and her only thought was that she hopes Derek proposes before Tony asks so she has an excuse that won’t hurt his feelings.
“Maybe, I guess we’ll see,” Y/N says instead. “Now, you can be on your way, and I’ll make sure to let the front desk know I refuse to see you if you come back with anything less than a life-threatening injury. Hopefully, that will keep you away and make you reconsider faking injuries and illnesses, and taking a room away from someone who actually needs it.”
He hits the stop button before turning off his phone and thanking her for answering his questions. He follows her out of the room and rushes out of the building to start working on his paper.
“What’s that about?” Melissa asks, watching the boy run out of the hospital.
Y/N rolls her eyes and sighs, “Just another person who wanted to interview me. I humored him for a few questions before I told him to not come back unless he’s dying.” She hands Melissa the boy’s file that’s in her hand. “Can you put a note in his file to let the others know I won’t see him if he comes back unless necessary?”
“That’s like the fourth one this month,” Melissa laughs in disbelief.
“What can I say, I’m famous,” Y/N winks at her. She and Melissa both know how much she hates the amount of attention she’s gotten since Kate exposed her. At one point in her life, she dreamed of being a star that everyone loved and was extremely famous. Now she wishes she could go back to being a nobody.
“When do you get off today?”
“I have about four hours left and then I’m out of here. I’ve got to go home a prepare myself for family dinner.” Y/N says, grabbing a new patient’s clipboard.
“I heard Stiles telling Scott about that. Is this the first dinner with all of you together?”
“Yep, and I’m already regretting it.”
Melissa lets out a laugh, “I’m sure it will be fine, and if it isn’t, you can tell me all about it tomorrow.”
“I actually have the next two days off, so it will be a few days until I can give you a play-by-play.” With her working so many shifts to make up for her unintended long absence, she decided she needed two days to take a break. She’s exhausted and just wants to sleep in for a day.
“I can’t wait.”
---
“Hey! Where’s Stiles?” Y/N asks as she greets her dad. He’s the first one to arrive for dinner and she expected Stiles to be with him.
“He said that he could drive himself here, so I drove here straight after work.” The sheriff replies, pulling Y/N into a big hug.
“Okay, well, the others should be here soon if you want to go ahead and sit at the table, or I can turn the TV on, and you can sit in the living room and wait.”
“Where’s Derek?” He questions.
“In here!” Derek calls out from the kitchen.
The sheriff follows Y/N into the kitchen to see Derek checking on the rolls in the oven. “How are you, Derek?”
“I’m good, sir. How are you?” Derek asks, shaking Noah’s hand in greeting.
“Well, I’m still here so I guess I’m good.”
“Dad, why don’t you sit down, and I’ll help Derek finish up,” Y/N says, gesturing her hand toward their dining table. She moves to help Derek when there’s a knock on the front door. “Never mind.”
Walking toward the front door, she can hear two heartbeats on the other side. Opening the door, Tony and Peter are now standing in front of her, “Hey. Thanks for coming.” She hugs them both as they enter the loft.
They had a few conversations after taking down Kate and the hunters, but they are still a little awkward around each other. Y/N and Peter not so much, but she isn’t sure how to navigate a relationship with Tony. She doesn’t want to come off as she doesn’t care about him, but she also needs time to get used to having another dad.
With Peter it’s different. They’re close in age and they have the shared trauma from Hydra. She also feels like she talking to Stiles most of the time.
Y/N shuts the door behind them, she leads them into the kitchen. She pulls out her phone to text Stiles as they greet Derek and Noah. Tony and Peter sit down at the table, and she helps Derek bring the food over.
She looks down at her phone when it vibrates in her hand, “Stiles says he’s a bit caught up and that we should start without him. He’ll be a bit late.”
“What’s he caught up with?” Derek asks, sitting at the head of the table next to Noah and Y/N.
“He didn’t say.” She hopes it’s just something to do with school and not supernatural-related.
“So, Derek, when are you going to start working on your old house?” Peter asks Derek. Y/N has told him a bit about Derek’s plans, but she hasn’t told him everything.
“Um, soon. I’m waiting until after I hire someone to help out at the shop.” Derek replies. A few people have applied to the open position, but two of them ended up being Avengers fans who faked their resumes.
“You know who would probably be interested in the position, Barnes,” Tony says. “He would know what to do and he’s been looking for a job.”
Bucky hasn’t applied to any yet, but he has a few saved. He’d been thinking about taking a step back from the Avengers for a bit. After seeing the files and the videos of what happened to Y/N, they seemed to trigger some bad memories that he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about. He’s also had several nightmares about what they could’ve possibly done to Y/N if she wasn’t rescued when she was.
Derek shares a small look with Y/N as if to ask for help with what he should say, “Yeah, I could send him the listing to see if he’s interested, or it’s on our website too. At least, that’s what Lydia told me.”
Y/N shrugs her shoulders a little when Derek looks back at her. She’s not going to tell Derek whether he should hire him or not, or even give Bucky a chance. It’s Derek’s business so that decision is completely up to him.
Tony opens his mouth to say something else, but Y/N decides to interrupt him. She’s sure Tony is about to say something that he thinks will be helpful for Derek, and she knows Derek probably doesn’t care to hear it. Derek likes doing things his way and he doesn’t always love people injecting their opinions. “So, Dad, is there anything you’d like to tell me?”
Y/N ignores the longing look in Tony’s eyes as she speaks to the other man who raised her.
“Uh, not to my knowledge, no.” Sheriff Stilinski doesn’t know what she’s talking about. The tone in her voice says he should, but he can’t think of anything.
“Really?” Y/N looks down at his left ring finger where his wedding ring used to be.
“Right, I may or may not have a date tomorrow night.”
“Good for you,” Derek says proudly, patting him on the back. They haven’t always seen eye-to-eye, but he and the sheriff have grown closer after he started dating Y/N. It was rough at first, but they started to get along after the sheriff saw how well Derek took care of Y/N after she was attacked one night by a hunter. They bonded that night as Y/N rested. It’s why Derek knows that the sheriff going on a date is a big deal for him.
“Who’s it with?” Y/N asks with a teasing smile.
“It’s with someone you know,” Noah says, keeping it vague.
“Well, it’s not with Melissa because she would’ve told me. But you also didn’t tell me until now. Oh my god, you’re date’s with Melissa.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Deaton?”
“It’s with a woman.”
“Well, who else do I know that’s at an appropriate age for you to date?” Y/N mutters mostly to herself.
Tony and Peter silently eat their food and watch the conversation with amused smiles on their faces. They like seeing Y/N with a smile on her face. It’s a lot better than what she looked like when dealing with Hydra, the hunters, and Derek getting shot with an arrow.
“It’s Lydia’s mom,” Derek states.
Noah looks at him a little shocked. He didn’t expect Derek to guess correctly or even chime in. “How’d you know?”
“I didn’t, but I do now.” Derek sends a triumph wink toward Y/N. She’s a little surprised he’s showing this side of himself with Tony and Peter here. With strangers, and sometimes the pack, he prefers to only let them see him as the tall, broody guy who doesn’t have many feelings.
“Just don’t tell Stiles. I haven’t told him I’m going on a date yet either.” He looks pointedly toward Y/N.
“Fine. My lips are sealed.” Y/N pretends to zip her lips for added effect. “What about you Peter? How’s MJ?”
The last time Peter had talked to her about MJ he wasn’t sure about the direction of their relationship. He loves her, but she’s still in college going for her master’s and he’s moving to Beacon Hills to be closer to his sister. They hadn’t decided if they wanted to try long-distance, have Peter go back and forth, or if they should call it quits for now.
Y/N told him that she shouldn’t be the reason his relationship with MJ should change. He just replies that he thought she was dead for several years and has missed out on being in her life, so he doesn’t plan on missing anymore.
“She’s good. We still haven’t decided what we’re going to do yet.” Peter replies, keeping his eyes down on the food on his plate to avoid looking at her.
“How has it been at the hospital? Are people still showing up and harassing you?” Tony asks, turning the attention away from Peter because he can feel he doesn’t want to talk about MJ.
“Yeah, we had a guy come in today asking me questions. It’s the fifth time he’s been in this week.” Y/N rolls her eyes in annoyance.
Tony frowns at her answer. He offered her a job to work with the Avengers in their medical wing to avoid the crazy press and fans and to spend more time with her, but she declined. She likes her job, and she likes that she can help her brother and friends by having her job.
“He’s been in five times?” Derek questions, his tone on the protective side.
“Yeah, he’s some college guy who wanted to interview me for some school project.”
“College guy?” “Didn’t the school year just start?” Derek and Peter question at the same time.
“He said it was for a paper for his criminology class. I let him ask me a few questions and then told the front desk not to let him back unless he’s dying.”
“What questions did he ask you?” Peter asks.
“Like ‘how did I react when I found out’ and ‘how did I feel about the videos people were making about me.’ I gave him five questions and only answered the ones I wanted to.” Y/N shrugs like it’s no big deal. “I only did it so that he’d stop wasting the staff’s time with his fake injuries and illnesses.”
“Has Stiles told you if he’s on his way?” Noah asks, changing the subject.
Y/N checks her phone and sees that Stiles hasn’t texted her, “Nope, but you know how he gets. He probably lost track of time, or he’s still caught up in whatever he’s doing.”
The table goes quiet, and everyone continues eating. No one knows what to say. This isn’t the first dinner they’ve had together, but they all typically end in silence. They do some polite small talk in the beginning—mostly everyone only speaking to Y/N—then finish their food in silence.
Derek takes his and Y/N’s empty plates to the sink when they're done. Y/N packs up some of the leftovers for her dad to take home.
“I should go. I’ve got a long shift in the morning.” Noah says. He pats Derek on the shoulder as a goodbye. He takes the leftovers from Y/N’s hands and follows her to the front door. “I’m assuming you’re going to show up to the station before my date tomorrow.”
“You know me so well.” Y/N smiles, hugging him goodbye. “See you tomorrow. Love you.”
“Love you too.” He closes the door behind himself as he leaves. Y/N turns to Tony and Peter who are ready to leave as well.
“Thanks for having us over. Dinner was good.” Tony says, putting his jacket back on that he took off while eating.
“Thanks for coming,” Y/N says, hugging them both goodbye. “My schedule is starting to slow down so I’ll let you know when I’m free for us to do something.” She notices Tony perk up at the thought of spending more time with her.
She waves at them goodbye before closing and locking the loft door. Sighing in exhaustion, she turns to see Derek standing and staring at her with a familiar lovestruck look in his eyes.
“I feel like I could sleep for a week,” Y/N says, slowly walking over to him.
Derek wraps his arms around her when she reaches him, “Well, I’ve done the dishes, so how about we go upstairs, take a nice hot bath, and then get you to bed?”
“Keep saying things like that and I’ll get on one knee right now and ask you to marry me.”
“I prefer when you get on both knees.”
Y/N scoffs at his joke, “Just take me upstairs to a bath. If you treat me right, maybe the bath could turn into something more.”
“I’m holding you to that,” Derek says. Y/N lets out a laugh when Derek wraps his arms around her thighs and picks her up, carrying her upstairs.
---
Y/N slowly opens her eyes to see Derek asleep next to her. She smiles a little at how cute he looks when he’s asleep. Turning to the clock on her bedside table, she notices that it’s almost midnight. She’s only been asleep for a little over an hour and she’s not sure what woke her up. As she turns back to Derek, their bedroom door flies open.
“Y/N?” Stiles calls out from the doorway.
“What the fuck Stiles?” Y/N groans, clamping her eyes shut when he flicks on the bedroom light. She can feel Derek waking up next to her. “Why the fuck are you here so late?”
Stiles walks into the room and sits on the bed next to Y/N, “I feel like I’m going crazy and you’re the only one that believes me.” Y/N can smell that he reeks of anxiety.
“Go home,” Derek groans, wraps an arm around Y/N’s waist, and pulls her in closer to him, pushing his face into the back of her neck to try and hide from the light.
Y/N sighs, using her hands to block the ceiling light, “You can tell me what’s going on after you turn off the light.”
Stiles huffs in frustration but gets up and turns off the light before sitting back on the bed, “There’s something off about Theo but no one believes me. Scott thinks I should give him the benefit of the doubt and that, even if he is bad, everyone is savable.”
“Does some of this have to do with why you didn’t show up to dinner?”
“Sorry about that. Me and Liam followed him around to see what he’d do.”
“And what did he do?”
“We may have followed him to the bridge near where his sister was found.” Stiles mumbles, fiddling with the drawstrings on his hoodie.
“He could’ve noticed you following him and put on a ‘good guy’ act,” Y/N says, trying to think of something that would support Stiles’ theory.
“Don’t encourage him,” Derek mumbles sleepily behind her.
“I broke into the administration office and found the transfer form his dad signed and compared it to a speeding ticket he signed eight years ago. The signatures are completely different.” Stiles says. He knows he’s right about Theo and he doesn’t get why Scott doesn’t believe him.
“Okay, I believe you. Look, I’m exhausted so how about we get some sleep and talk about this some more later? You’ve got school tomorrow, so you need some sleep too.” Y/N says as gently as she can. She doesn’t want him to feel like she doesn’t believe him either, but she might fall back asleep any minute now. “You know you are welcome to the guest room. It’s practically yours now anyway.”
“Can I sleep in here tonight?” Stiles asks shyly.
“No,” Derek answers quickly.
“Not like in your bed, but like can I drag the guest room’s mattress in here and sleep on it on the floor?”
Even in the dark, Y/N can see the vulnerability in his eyes, “Yes, you can sleep in here.” Stiles smiles and runs out of the room toward the guest room.
“You should’ve said no,” Derek groans.
“He’s worried about his friends and senior year has been giving him a lot of anxiety after asking Dad about his high school buddies.”
“How has that given him so much anxiety that he stinks of it?”
“Dad told him that he no longer speaks to any of his friends from high school and he’s scared him and his friends will end up the same way.”
Derek sighs, “Fine, but him staying in here is a one-time thing.”
Y/N starts to reply when Stiles comes back into the room, pulling the guest bedroom mattress behind him with one hand and his pillows and blankets in the other. He puts the mattress against the wall that faces Y/N’s side of the bed.
He puts his pillows down on the mattress before laying down and wrapping his blankets around himself, “Okay, goodnight. Don’t do anything gross since I’m here.”
Y/N rolls her eyes at his last sentence, “Goodnight Stiles.”
As she starts to drift back off to sleep, she hears Stiles speak again, “Y/N?”
“What?”
“Did you notice that Dad stopped wearing his ring?”
“Yeah,” Y/N replies gently.
“Do you think he’s met someone?”
“You’d have to ask him that.” She would’ve responded with yes, but she promised her dad earlier that she wouldn’t tell Stiles because he wanted to be the one to do it.
“I just want him to be happy,” Stiles says, staring up at the ceiling.
“Me too.”
There’s a moment of silence before Stiles says, “I miss Mom.”
“Me too.”
“Okay, goodnight,” Stiles rolls over to his side to face the wall.
“Goodnight,” Y/N pushes herself back into Derek’s loose embrace. After Stiles laid out the mattress, he was out like a light. She starts to drift off again when Stiles interrupts her again.
“Hey Y/N?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for believing me.”
“Always.”
---
@xxemmarldxx @esposadomd @ladyjenjay @ts1mp0ne @misshale21
@n1ght5h4d3-24 @xoxoloverb
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book-place · 2 years
Text
Most Wonderful Time
Warnings: mentions of character death, weapons, and fighting, let me know if I missed any :)
Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x daughter reader, Vision x daughter reader, Batfamily x reader platonic <crossover>
Request: I was thinking maybe a batfam x Wanda's daughter! Reader who got reincarnated into the mcu universe after she died in the DC universe. She still has memories of her past life so she asks wanda about it so she shows her the dark hold and how it works. So when wanda is asleep, she uses the dark hold without permission and travels to the DC universe. When she got there she immediately went to the nearest store to buy them presents. It was Christmas day so you decided it would be a nice thing to do. After you did that you immediately went to the manor to greet them after a full year of being dead (in that universe)
Request by: @ladyagagaslefttoe
*not my gif*
Summary: An idea came to you suddenly about the flashbacks you had been having of your past life
A/N: Welcome to day 9 of Book Places 12 Days of Christmas Celebration
Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work
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You frowned, staring up at your ceiling in the dark with your hands laced together and gently laying on your chest.
So lost in your thoughts, you hadn’t even heard your mother come in, only snapping out of your trance when she flicked the flights on.
“What are you doing?” Wanda asked in amusement, strolling over and sitting at the foot of your bed.
You sighed, sitting up and leaning against the headboard and pulling your knees to your chest before resting your chin on the top, “Just thinking,” You admitted.
“Well don’t think too much longer,” She teased, leaning over and planting a kiss on the crown of your head, “It’s Christmas Eve and we’re going to have a great day tomorrow.”
It’s true, the two of you, along with your father, Vision, had been invited to go over Tony’s for the day tomorrow to hang out with the rest of the Avengers.
When you gave her a small smile in return, she left you to your thoughts, flicking off the lights on her way out so you could return to your previous activity.
Perhaps it was the fact that you were born to the most powerful witch alive that you had the abilities that you had, to see into your past life.
You didn’t exactly have a normal life in that one, not that you did now. You were born in a separate universe, with your father and brothers, as well as yourself, all being vigilantes for your home city, Gotham.
Recently, you have been getting more and more flashbacks than normal about the life you had led as Bruce Wayne’s daughter.
About times with your brothers, sneaking cookies from the kitchen, pillow fights, real fights with thugs out on the streets. And, of course, your death.
It had happened one night while you were on patrol, trying to take down a gang in a warehouse. You had gotten separated from your brothers and someone had snuck up behind you and caught you by surprise.
For obvious reasons, you couldn’t remember what came next, but you knew that it wasn’t pretty.
All of a sudden, an idea sparked through your head and you sat straight up.
It wasn’t impossible, but it wouldn’t be easy, especially since your mother clearly wouldn’t approve.
You gnawed on your bottom lip for a moment as you contemplated what to do before slowly swinging your legs over the side of your bed and hesitantly putting your feet on the ground.
Before fully planting your feet on the ground to stand up, you listened for the sound of your parents steady breathing to let you know that they were in fact asleep.
As quickly and quietly as you could, you slipped out of your room and crept into the spare room that your family had specifically designated for the Darkhold.
Your mother had taught you a while ago how to use it, stressing the importance that it was only to be used as a last case scenario in emergencies.
True, this wasn’t a life or death situation, but you had been given a second chance at life. You were forced to leave behind a family that never got closure for what had happened to you.
Of course, you loved your family in this universe and the avengers more than anything, and you knew and felt nothing for your past family other than what memories gave you. But somewhere deep down, you felt like you owed this to them.
Tossing aside the thoughts of how furious your parents would be when they found out, you took the Book of the Damned into your hands and flipped through the pages until you found what you were looking for.
You closed your eyes and murmured the spell that was inscribed upon the pages, and when you opened them again, you stood on the middle of a sidewalk in a city that you had only seen in your dreams. Gotham.
The city bustled with midday rush, informing you of your suspicions that time moved differently in this universe. If that was the case, then you would have been dead for exactly a year here.
With that fact in mind, you quickly brought your hood over your head and closed the Darkhold, tucking it safely under your arm as you began moving with your head down through the city.
Somehow, you knew exactly where you were going without really thinking about it. As if you knew this foreign city like the back of your hand.
When you arrived at the store you had unknowingly been traveling to, you finally paused for the first time in hesitation.
Your brilliant plan suddenly didn’t seem as great as it had sounded in your head.
You had wanted to use your mothers book to travel to the universe that you had died in and surprise your used-to-be family with gifts and tell them about how you remember, and how you were sorry for what had happened to them.
But what if they didn’t take it that way? What if this was just a slap in the face to them about the sister and daughter they had lost?
Because you weren’t her, not really, but you had thought that maybe- just maybe- they would see it as a way of finally gaining the closure they never had.
Was it selfish that some part of you also wanted to meet them? To see what they were really like? Yes, and you knew it.
Taking a deep breath to calm yourself, knowing that it was too late to go back now, you took a step farther into the store and began to look for what you came for.
In the end, you had some coffee mugs, bags of candy, and other little trinkets you were able to find that reminded you of the memories that you had been having.
With that, you made your way back outside and flagged down a cab, ignoring the weird look you got when you told the driver to take you to Wayne manor.
“Hey,” He said gruffly, eyes narrowing slightly at you, “You look familiar…”
“I’ve probably taken your cab before.” You lied coolly with a small shrug.
He grunted and turned back to begin driving, “Yeah, probably.”
Nothing could’ve prepared you for the wave of nerves that hit you like a train as the large home came into view.
After taking only a deep breath to steady yourself, you paid and thanked the driver before stepping out and warily eyed the intimidating building.
Picking up the bags of gifts you had gotten for them, you hesitantly made your way up the front steps and rang the doorbell once, stepping back to wait.
The two moments it took for someone to answer the door were the longest of your life. You were rocking back and forth on your heels and nervously glancing around in a way that no doubt made you look suspicious.
The door was opened by a man you knew to be Alfred Pennyworth, and the moment his gaze landed on you, he froze, hand falling from the doorknob as he sucked in a sharp breath.
“Who is it Al?” Dicks contagious laugh reached your ears before he was within sight. But when he was, he stopped dead in his tracks as well.
“No…” Your eyes snapped behind him to where Bruce, Jason, Tim, and Damain all stood, eyes wide and faces pale.
A silence broke out then and there, no one wanting- or daring enough- to break it as you all stared at one another. You in curiosity, while some of them held mixed expressions of horror, sadness, and disbelief.
“Hi, guys,” You finally greeted softly, “It’s nice to meet you all.”
That was your first mistake.
Automatically, all of their softened faces hardened and each of them reached for a concealed weapon within their pockets and got into a fighting stance.
“Who are you, and what do you want?” Bruce asked coldly, his tone sending shivers down your spine.
Out of all the flashbacks you had, he had never once spoken to you like that.
You flinched slightly, “Listen, I know this is a lot to take in-“
“Who are you?” Damian hissed, eyes narrow and fists clenched at his sides. The sight of his older sister clearly messing with his head.
You went to take a step forward, but Jason put a finger up to stop you, “Not another step.” He warned.
“Do you think she…” Dick trailed off, not having to finish his sentence for the others to know that he was asking if you had come back from the grave like Jason had.
Tim shook his head, “She couldn’t have.” His tone indicated that he was trying to convince himself just as much as the other, “We tried that already and it didn’t work.”
Your heart broke at the sight of them. These strangers, but not, so confused and upset by your appearance, that for the first time, you really began to regret coming to see them.
“I’m sorry,” You whispered out, eyes pooling with tears as you slowly bent down and placed the shopping bags before them, “I knew coming here was a bad idea.”
As you turned to leave, one voice made you freeze.
“Y/n?” It was Dick, “Y/n, is that really you?”
Your eyes squeezed shut as you turned around to face them once more.
“Kind of,” You whispered, “I’m from a different universe.”
They all exchanged a glance at your words before slowly relaxing their tense stances, surprising you a bit.
“This isn’t the first time we’ve heard something like that”. Tim said.
You took that as your cue to talk once more, and you dove into the explanation as to why you were there.
You told them about the flashbacks you were having from your past life. The way time moves differently. Your universe. How you had just wanted to bring them some gifts for Christmas and hopefully meet them in person.
By the end of your story, the silence had returned, and you were looking back and forth between all of them in anticipation, half expecting them to reach for their weapons once more.
“Would…” Bruce's voice broke slightly before he swallowed thickly, “Would you like to come in?”
So in you went, allowing each and every one of them to give you a hug, even if you weren’t really the girl they lost and passed out their gifts to them. But in so many ways, you were similar. Living in a different universe just made you slightly different.
For hours, you talked and talked. Sharing stories and laughs as you enjoyed Christmas together.
By the time the sun had begun to set, you knew it was time for you to leave, so you hugged each of them once more before stepping out the door.
“Wait, Y/n!” Jason called, causing you to turn to him with slightly raised eyebrows, “Will you- I mean can you-“ He stuttered out.
“Are you able to come back to visit?” Tim filled in the blank for him.
You smiled softly at the request and nodded your head once. Though you still weren’t from that universe anymore, it felt as right as being in your own.
Using the Darkhold once more, you disappeared just in time to see them all waving at you before you returned back to your home once more.
Your parents were still asleep by the time you got back, so you snuck back into your room and got under the covers of your bed.
You had given others and yourself a second chance that day. And no Christmas gift could ever outdo that.
The Superior Robin ❤️- @ineedmorefanfics2 @sambucky8 @spidyyparker @i-writes-things
We Are Groot 🤎- @lovanitu @jvdethirlwall @ineedmorefanfics2 @sambucky8 @spidyyparker @irethepotato @femalemarvelself @mukbee @its-hell @ip747 @i-writes-things @popfishjr @mitsuki-murakami
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starycloudz · 1 year
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Diluc x teen reader!☆ headcanons!!(៸៸᳐⦁⩊⦁៸៸᳐ )੭゙
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Platonic, reader has a pyro vision! 14-16 age reader!
☆°._______.°☆
. Diluc's like a big brother figure for you, always supporting, caring, and fun to hang around with!
. You can always count on Diluc to help you with stuff. Like homework, giving advice on life.
. He knows what it's like being a teenager, everyone expects you to act like a adult, not to like childish things, but you can't be to mature because you still need to act like your age.
. So he always let's you vent to him about your problems, no matter how stupid you say they are.
. You and diluc are always seen together around Angles share/ Dawn Wineries/ taking walks together through Mondstat!
. He gives you free juice at Angles share!
. When you got your pyro vision, diluc was the first person you told! He helped you understand your new vision! (How nice! ꉂ(ˊᗜˋ*))
. Let's you take him on little adventures to who knows where.
. Also let's you take him shopping!
. And he definitely spends him mora on you! After all, you are like a little sibling to him!
. Let's you talk about your interests!
☆°.___________________.°☆
I'm still working on the Sebastien fic, so here's a little diluc headcanons for you!
K-ons my favorite anime! (≧∇≦)
☆°.________
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skylarmoon71 · 2 years
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Leonardo - Oneshot 2014/2016  (Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles)
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Most people laughed when they heard the word psychic. It didn’t mean much. Through your teenage years you knew better than to ever tell anyone about that part of your life. But as you got older it became harder to hide that side of your life. Because the visions came in much stronger. Sometimes violent, or peaceful. You did your part whenever you witnessed something that could be a potential danger to others. NYPD had gotten a full quota of anonymous tips on crimes.
For the most part you were able to attend college and avoid drawing too much attention to yourself. To the outside world, you were just like any other over stressed student. The one thing you never had to worry about was visions of your life.
At least that’s what you thought.
This particular situation was not one you ever thought you would be in.
“Donnie, I think we’re out of pop tarts!”
Mikey called.
On cue you walked in with the box of sweets.
“Right here.”
Mikey practically flipped over the chair.
“It’s like you’re psychic or something!” You rolled your eyes at his little quip.
“Good one Mikey, I did not see that one coming.”
“Really?”
“I don’t even need psychic abilities to see through that Mikey.” You respond sarcastically.
“Worth a shot.”
He took the box with a smile, running off. You placed your bag down, head tilting as you searched for the leader in blue. Raph buzzed by when he saw you pause, a distant look on your face. You blinked, and he pointed.
“Leo’s in the-”
“Dojo, yeah I know.”
“I aint ever gonna get used to that, ya know.” You giggle.
“Trust me, I’m still not used to it.”
The one good thing that ever came out of having these abilities was meeting the boys. In a way you were all what society would call freaks, weirdos. You were fine with that. Because it just meant that you weren’t alone.
At school, you always had to hold back a part of yourself. To your friends, coworkers, professors. This gift was not something you could disclose to them. But with this family, you didn’t have to hide anything. They accepted all your quirks, the same way you did for them. It was comforting having people you didn’t have to restrict yourself around.
You turned the bend, to your surprise, Leo wasn’t inside the dojo. You quirk an eyebrow, venturing to his room. Giving a soft knock, you opened the door.
“Oh wise leader~”
You called jokily.
“(Y/N).” you jumped, spinning around. Backtracking you caught yourself, stepping into his room.
“Woah Leo you scared me.”
You placed a hand on your chest, and Leo stepped inside, closing the door behind him. He wasn’t wearing his many gadgets, so you could only assume he’d just got done with a training session.
“Usually it’s hard to catch you off guard. “ He wasn’t wrong.
“Comes with the gig.” You offer.
“Did you need something (Y/N). “ He took a step forward, and your brows furrowed.
“I..uh I..” The way he was acting felt a bit strange.
“Are you okay Leo?”
You backed up unconsciously, only pausing when your leg hit his bed. You almost fell over, but he stops any fall. His hand is secured around your waist, steadying you. Even when you’re upright, he doesn’t pull away. You stare into those beautiful blue eyes. Unable to comprehend much more.
“You should be more guarded when you enter my room. I may not be human, but at the end of the day I’m still male. Don’t be so reckless.”
Where the hell was this all coming from?
“I can’t be responsible for what happens.”
“Wait wha-”
He leans in, and you’re positive this is the first time you did not see such an event coming. Your hands ball against his chest, and your eyes shut tightly. It’s a firm tender kiss, and he pulls back after a few seconds. When your gazes meet again, he licks his lips. Your heart is thumping so quickly. Without missing a beat your grip at his shoulders, pulling him back in for another kiss. Leo is happy to oblige.
Through frantic kisses, your body is lifted right off the ground. You barely process anything until your back is on the mattress and Leo is leaving heated kisses along your neck. His hands run down your body, and when his lips begin to follow the trail south, you grip at the sheets, moaning.
“Leo..”
He nips at your waist.
“Leo..”
He slides off your jeans.
“Leo!”
You're standing there wide eyed, and Leo is right in front of you.
“(Y/N), you're back. I was worried. Those visions aren’t usually that long. Are you okay? What did you see?”
You must look pretty comical considering what had just crossed your eyes.
Redness rushes over your cheeks, and you let out a labored breath.
“(Y/N)?”
He reaches out to touch you, and you flinch, jumping back.
“I-I have to go!” You’re sprinting out the room, and Leo’s confusion comes back tenfold. He just stares as you make an escape.
“I can’t believe this!!”
Of all the things, why did the one premonition you have of yourself need to be a freaking erotica.
“ARGH!!”
Just your luck. Out of all the people you know, it just had to be Leo. How were you going to explain what you saw?
“I can’t ever tell him.”
You’d already decided. Maybe it was a faulty one. You’d had visions that were misinterpreted before. This could be one of them. All you needed to do was pretend it didn’t happen. This way you could keep your friendship and sanity.
“I can do this, how hard could it be?"
You were about to find out.
~~~
“We have to stop them.” Leo comments.
You’re never surprised when the boys are on a mission. Crime didn’t seem to give them a break.
“Let’s go.”
You barely made it in the space before the boys are pacing towards the surface. You grabbed Leo’s hand on instinct, and he stopped.
“Be careful.”
He knew that look.
“I will. Hold down the fort.” He said with a slight smirk. You nod.
“Of course.”
You release his hand, heading to the direction of the computers. Slipping the earpiece in, you click at the computers.
“What’s the quickest route (Y/N).”
“Take a left at fourth street.” You advise. You can see the little dots moving on the screen.
“Donnie how many people are inside.”
“Twenty.” You state. Raph laughs.
“Beat you to it, genius.”
“That’s unfair, she’s psychic.” You can’t help but laugh at their back and forth bickering.
“Let’s get our heads in the game.” Leo lectures. You place your cheek in your palm.
The sound of his voice in your ear is soothing. Nice.
Even when he lectures.
Especially when he lectures.
“What are you thinking about while we’re on the job (Y/N).” The change in his voice catches you by surprise.
“I-I wasn’t thinking about anything. “ you defend.
“Raph and the others are scouting the building, we’re alone. You can be honest. I know you think about it.” You swallow.
“I..I don’t know what you mean. “ You cross your legs.
“When we’re done here I guess I’ll have to carry out my own interrogation to find out the truth.” His husky tone makes your stomach coil. You bite the inside of your cheek.
“Leo..you’re on patrol, we shouldn’t be..”
“We’ve dealt with far worse. I can do this with my eyes closed. You on the other hand, I might have to be more careful. You’re distracting me. I need to discipline you so it doesn’t happen again. Don’t you think so?”
How is this happening right now?
“Don’t you think (Y/N)?”
You huff.
“Is everything okay?” His even tone makes you tune back in, and you scramble, almost falling out of the chair.
“I-I’m fine!!”
Leo’s not sure why you’re sounding a bit defensive, but he isn’t offered a chance to question it.
“EAT THIS!!” Raph’s yell makes Leo groan in annoyance.
“Damn it Raph!!”
You recognize that sound. It’s Raph being an idiot again.
It’ll be a while before you hear from them. At least that gives you time to get your temperature back to the normal range.
Safe to say your interactions with the blue eyed leader are a bit awkward.
You do the best that you can.
~~~
“Dibs on the last slice!!”
Mikey grabs the pizza before anyone can protest, and Raph chases after him. Leo just shakes his head, and you laugh. His gaze moves to you.
“(Y/N), I think you left your binder in my room last night.” Your eyes widen.
“Oh thank goodness. I really thought I’d have to redo my assignment. You’re a lifesaver Leo!” You’re already running to his room. Leo follows behind with a chuckle. When he enters he closes the door, gifted with the sight of you kissing the blue binder.
“I’ll never leave you again.”
You say to the item. Now he can’t contain his laughter. You drop onto the bed with a bashful smile. When his laughter dies out, it’s then that he truly takes you in. It feels like a good time to address the issue.
“(Y/N), has something been bothering you?”
“What makes you think that?” You raise a brow.
Leo takes a seat on the bed next to you. That smile you’d both been sharing now changed to a look of concern.
“For a while now you’ve been acting differently. I know that with all that you see it’s not easy. I just want you to know that I’m here. We’re all here. If you need someone to talk about it. To help you through. I’m right here.”
You aren’t sure what to say to that. This entire time Leo must have been racking his brain trying to figure out if you were alright. You feel guilty. His sincerity just makes this harder to resist. Without thinking, you push off your hands, pressing your lips to his.
Leo’s eyes grow wide, but you don’t relent. He gasps when you wrap your hands around his neck, and his body falls back onto the bed at the added weight. Your legs tangle, Leo’s forehead creasing in surprise at not only the action, but your obvious need. His mind is running a mile a minute.
Is he delirious, or are you really kissing him?
When your lips finally part, all he can truly do is stare at you. It’s taken everything in you not to jump him earlier. Leo looks so adorably lost, it just makes you want to pounce on him again.
“You..you just kissed me..”
You can’t help but blush.
“I’m sorry. I really couldn’t help myself. “
You’re still on top of him, and he clears his throat.
“I..I had no idea that you were..that..” He’s flustered, it’s obvious why.
“This is all your fault Leo.”
“M-My fault!”
“Yes, do you know how hard it is for a girl to control herself when you’re walking around all confident and buff. Like seriously! And your voice, that alone should be a crime. Not to mention those eyes.”
Leo’s wondering if maybe these late night patrols are finally taking their toll.
You pin his arms to the bed.
“(Y-Y/N)!”
“Let me have my way with you.”
Now he’s certain he’s hit his head.
“I’m concussed.”
That’s the only thing that makes sense.
Your lips are once again on his, and he closes his eyes.
“Leo..”
You sound so desperate, it’s driving him crazy.
“Leo?”
His eyes shoot open, and his head whips to the side.
You’re standing at the door, from the looks of it you’d just walked in. You’re at the door, hand still on the knob. You look so innocent. Far different from what he’d just experienced.
What he just dreamed.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. Raph told me you were awake, I left my binder in here last night.” You send him a kind smile.
The binder.
Leo curses. Of course he wants to grab it for you, but there’s a little situation that he’s dealing with due to the very explicit dream.
“I’ll be out in five minutes.” He doesn’t say anymore and you nod.
“O-Okay. Take your time.”
You leave shortly after, and Leo lets out a groan.
“Damn it..”
At what point did he become like Mikey?
~~~
That afternoon when you walk in, it’s because you have to talk to Leo. April had been working on a case. The second your hand touches the file she gathered, a lot of the pieces seem to fall right into place. You’d already contacted Donnie, so he was working on the schematics for the buildings that flashed in your visions. As soon as you get to Leo’s door, you don’t even knock, just walk in as you rant about the possibilities.
“Can you believe it, they've been working right under our noses for months. “ Leo looks a bit startled, but composes himself when you begin pacing back and forth.
“It’s connected somehow. They must be working with a cop on the inside. You have to tell Lieutenant Vincent. I’m sure she knows. Geez these scumbags.” Leo can’t help but observe how heated you are getting over the issue. He smiles to himself.
“(Y/N).”
You tune in. Frantic movements stopping.
“I’m doing it again aren’t I? Sorry.”
“It’s alright.”
He admires how passionate you are, that’s why he feels as though he needs to be honest.
“There’s something I need to confess.” You’re quiet now, watching him curiously.
“What is it?” It’s a bit worrying how serious he sounds.
Leo’s eyes move to bed, then back to you.
“Recently I had a..dream. You were in it.”
“A dream?”
It couldn’t have been as bad as he was making it seem.
“It was pretty explicit and since then I haven’t been able to focus on much but picturing that moment." The usual neutral look on his face has changed to one of desire, and your cheeks heat up.
“You had the visions too!!”
Leo is taken aback. But it dawns on him. You’d been wearing a similar look before. About a week ago.
“She..had a similar dream..”
Now it made sense. Your weird behavior, shifty gaze. Rosy cheeks. He figures you would assume it was a product of your abilities.
“They aren’t visions.”
Your shoulders drop.
“They’re not..”
Leo shakes his head, lifting his eyes. He's right. From the moment this started you've been trying to smother it.
“I think neither of us have been very honest about our feelings.”
You fiddle with the string on your shirt.
You’ve always admired Leo. He’s strong, reliable and kind. Swallowing, you drop your hands. Maybe it was time to be forward. Leo was right. You weren’t honest.
“In your dream..what happened?” Your question is not one he sees coming. Despite that, he answers. Leo takes one step forward.
“You were on top of me, blaming me for being too buff and authoritative.” He chuckles softly.
It had to be a dream, no way were you that bold.
Leo takes another step closer.
“You held me down..kissed me..”
He whispers those words, and your heart follows the rhythm of a drum. Leo is now directly in front of you.
“I can’t deny that when I woke up, I really did wish it was reality.”
How do you respond to that and not jump him. Lifting your hand hesitantly, you reach for him. Leo is quiet, just observes. When your palm flattens on his chest, he takes notice of the way you sigh.
“Please don't be another dream.” You state aloud.
You lean up unto your toes, and Leo pulls you in, lips pressing feverishly to your own. He practically lifts you off the ground. You hum happily, securing your arms around his neck as he backs you against the door. Your back makes an audible thud and Leo pulls back to apologize.
“S-Sorry I-”
“Don’t be.”
You pull him back down, and he groans, pressing his free hand against the door. Your legs are wrapped around his waist, and Leo presses into you. No restrictions, no restraint.
It's in this moment that you realize, honesty really is the best policy.
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gojonanami · 5 months
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❝ 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 !! ❞
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❝ WHEN YOUR CHILDHOOD BEST FRIEND OFFERS TO TEACH YOU HOW TO LOVE, HOW CAN YOU SAY NO ?? ❞
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✧ pairing: college student!yuji itadori x f!reader
✧ summary: yuji itadori has been your best friend since you were kids, and when he offers you to teach you how to fuck, you don't expect him to be able to find his way into your heart too.
✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, aged up characters (don't like? don't read), childhood best friends to fwb to lovers, college au! (no curses), reader is the same age as yuji (both 20s), grew up as neighbors, mutual pining, nobara playing cupid, jealous!yuji, yuji is so golden retriever bf, nightmares, mentions of parental death via car crash (yuji), adoptive dad nanamin :), nipple play, oral (f + m), fingering (f! receiving), handjob (m! receiving), semi public sex (under a blanket with sleeping friends nearby), sex (p in v), creampie, swearing, fanart by unknown artist (found on pinterest, pls let me know if you know the og artist so i can credit)
✧ wc: 13,544
✧ for my 2k celebration event: item 5 has been sold to two anons!
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“You want me to teach you?” 
The words left your best friend’s lips nonchalantly as if he was asking you if you wanted him to teach you how to ride a bike. 
But that’s not what he was offering to have you ride—
“Yuji,” you say slowly, “what are you saying? Do you even know what you’re saying?” 
Yuji Itadori was dense, but you knew he was far from stupid. You learned that in third grade when he punched a bully that had been picking on you, the final straw being when he had tripped you, causing you to skin your knee. Before you could even well any tears up in your eyes, you heard a thwack and a yelp as Yuji had laid the boy out on the playground. You stared at Yuji, as he offered you his other hand to help you to your feet, as your eyes slid from him to your bully. 
Yuji knelt down, carrying you on his back to the nurse’s office, “but Yuji, what about him? We left him—“ 
And he set you down outside the nurse’s office — and he only smiled that wide smile he had always reserved for you, “Don’t worry — I made sure no one was looking.” 
But now, you were beginning to doubt his sanity, rather than his intelligence — “I know what I’m saying,” he chuckles, trademark smile on his lips, “I’m just offering you the chance to practice,” 
“This isn’t practicing a sport or test—you’re offering,” you shift on your bed, while Yuji lounges on the floor, back against the bottom of your bed, “you’re offering to sleep with me, Yuji,” he leans his head on your bed, looking up at you at way, your face upside in his vision. 
“I know, I know, but it’s not a big deal is it?” he’s acting so nonchalant you wonder if one of his teammates had hit him hard in the head during practice, “we’ve had all our firsts together,” 
You scoff, “That was like our first steps, first day of school, first drink—“ 
“First kiss—“ he interrupts, and your face burns at the memory — a preadolescent game gone wrong that ended up with you and Yuji sharing your first kiss when you were teens. 
“That wasn’t real,” you wave him off, crossing your arms, “and this isn’t just a kiss for a game—this could change our friendship—“ 
“It won’t, if we don’t let it,” his gaze is more serious than you’ve ever seen Yuji be — not when he was usually all wide smiles and enthusiasm, “it’s us, we can get through it, and we don’t have to let it get weird right?” 
You chew on your lip, “Yuji, what do you get out of it?” And he’s tilting his head at your question— “I mean you don’t have to do this — just because I’m insecure because I don’t have experience,” you mumble. 
And that’s how the conversation had started — your complaints about your friends talking about their boyfriends, exes, and hookups, while you just nodded along — far too aware that you hadn’t even had a proper kiss, much less sex. And now you had found yourself here. 
“Look,” he slides up to sit on your bed, a good distance away from you, his eyes finding yours — warm hazel that felt as if it was drizzling over your skin wherever his gaze traveled, “I want your first time to be safe. I don’t want you to just hook up with someone and something bad to happen because you can’t say no — with me,” he clenched his hand into a fist holding his other hand flat as he gently hit his fist against it, “you can tell me to stop and if I somehow don’t or don’t hear you, punch me,” 
You snort, “Yuji,” he’s shaking his head. 
“I’m serious, I want you to be safe,” and you’re fidgeting with your fingers in your lap — this was Yuji, Yuji — you couldn’t say you hadn’t noticed how well he had grown up. Not when all of your friends drooled over him — especially with how liked he was — by everyone. 
“What if I lose you?” And he chuckles, as he breaches your personal space and his hand brushes yours. 
“You won’t, ever. I promise,” and your breath catches — many millions of times had Yuji touched you throughout your lives — an arm over over your shoulder, a hug, even holding your hand through crowds during festivals — but a simple brush of his fingers against yours had your heart rattling against its bony enclosure, begging for you to let it out, “what do ya think?” 
And you’re thinking — this would be the best outcome — you weren’t one to hook up with a stranger and you were burnt out on dead end dating app conversations, and to have your first time with someone close, someone you knew — it would be ideal. 
“Are you sure?” And his lips curl into a soft smile, leaning closer, as his fingers gently brush against your locks. 
“Would I be here like this if I wasn’t?” his breath warms your lips, as his fingers skim your cheek, “is this okay?” 
You nod wordlessly, unable to find the words to even reply — you had never thought of this situation would ever happen — especially like this. You lean against his hand, calloused from his practices, but as gentle as it always was. 
“We can take it as slow as you need,” he murmurs, as he’s even closer now, your eyes fluttering shut, only for his lips to graze your forehead. You pause at the featherlight touch — wondering if it actually happened when your eyes open to find his, “no need to rush, right?” He smiles, as he gets to his feet, “are we still on for tomorrow’s study session?” 
“Of course,” 
He scratches the back of his head, “Good because I still don’t understand math or why I need it, but unfortunately, I still have to pass,” he grabs his bag, “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he offers a smile before he’s gone. 
And you’re left sitting on your bed, the warmth of his touch still on your skin, wondering what the fuck just even happened. 
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“Yuji, you just have to solve for x,” you sigh, explaining the problem for the billionth time, as his pen waves back forth between two fingers, “it’s simple,” 
Your weekly study sessions with Yuji were a constant throughout your life, though more for Yuji than you. Yuji is very intelligent, despite his demeanor in class where it felt as if there was a perpetual question mark over his head — he just learned by seeing and then doing. And the repetition helped you all the same. But you had never felt so conscious sitting next to the boy you called your best friend. 
“Maybe to you, but I don’t why math has to involve letters,” he wrinkled his nose at the problem, sighing, as he twists the pen around his hand, and your eyes catch the movement — you didn’t know how the little boy’s whose hands you used to hold had gotten so big now — calloused from his practices, but so soft against your skin,  “is something interesting about my hands?” 
Your eyes snap up to meet his, cheeks burning as you shake your head, “No, just, uh, impressed that you can twist the pen around your hand like that,” 
“Oh, that?” he’s as unfazed as usual, leaning back a little, “that’s easy. I could show you if you want,” 
“It’s fine,” and you’re trying to focus back on the problem, when you find him still staring, “what is it?” 
“If you wanted to hold my hand, you just had to ask,” his fingers graze yours, with enough time for you to pull away, before his fingers lace with yours, “and we can do more if you want?” 
This was crazy — it was probably a mistake, but — as his touch made your heart flutter, warm rolling in waves that erupted into butterflies in your stomach — why weren’t you pulling away? 
“What does more entail?” and he inches a little closer, his breath warming your lips, “but you still haven’t gotten this problem down, are you just trying to get out of studying?” 
A chuckle on his lips, “Maybe I’m just looking for the right motivation, so how about we make a deal?” He moves over, spreading his legs apart, and pats the floor in front of you — for each question I get right, I get a kiss,”
And why you agreed to this, you really didn’t have words—but now you were sat between his legs, nearly in his lap, as he leaned forward — his chest against your back as his chin brushed your shoulder and his cheek brushed against your own, breath warming your neck — trying to get a better look at the math problem. His arm was wrapped around your side as his pen scratched against the scrap paper, trying to solve the problem. You bit your lip, trying your best not to glance at him, but you spot his wrinkled brow out of the corner of his lip and the tip of his tongue poking ever so slightly out of his mouth— and your lips curled, he still had that habit from when you were kids. 
“There, I think I solved it,” he murmurs, and you have to hold back a shiver at the words rumbled against your ear, “is it right?” 
And god, you could barely think, much less do math, but as you glance over the question and answer — he’s got it right.  
Fuck. 
“It is,” you say softly, “is all you need some motivation? Because I would have just promised I would go to see the next Human Earthworm movie,” 
He chuckles, his lips nearly against your ear, as his hand gently traces your jaw, “I’d like that, but I think i rather have what I was promised, as long as you’re still okay with that,” 
Your breath hitches, as you follow his lead, rough pads still so gentle against your cheek, as your eyes find his, but you don’t find his usual doe eyes — but instead find pools of lust threatening to drag you under. Although from the way your lips part and eyes flutter shut, perhaps he had you underwater for far longer than you even knew. 
His lips graze yours — it’s barely a kiss, a peck maybe — as he does his best to ease you in. You didn’t know lips could be so soft — meeting again and again, stealing logic from your mind and breath from your lungs. 
“Are you okay?” He’s murmuring, not even a breath away from your lips. You’re nearly dizzy, mind reeling from his touch, heart jumping at his thumb rubbing lightly against your cheek. 
“I am, just a little strange to be kissing, much less you,” and his brow knits together, “but not bad at all,” you add, and he chuckles, his fingers grazing your cheek firmer, as he leans in again, “we said one kiss—“ 
“Do you really want to stop now?” he’s murmuring, and your noses bump against each other. 
Your lips find his again and now you can taste the sour candy he had stolen from you, but an overwhelming sweetness overrides it, and your hand brushes against his cheek, the other finding purchase on his chest.
“Is that okay?” You murmur, as you lips part, the two of you catching your breath, your shared pants filling the silence, your cheeks burning as your eyes avert from his, “I don’t know—“ 
“You’re fine, don’t worry about it,” a small chuckle on his lips, fingers cupping your chin to guide your gaze back to his — a subtle heat that makes your insides turn to molasses, sticky and sweet and far too warm, “just do what feels right, ok?” 
And his lips find yours again, gently as he did the first time, but more passion behind it, swallowing your quiet murmur of his name with ease. Your lips move against his just as his did — you try to push aside the thoughts of whether you were doing this right. But the slight brush of his teeth against your bottom lip makes you forget too with a gasp. 
He pulls away with a grin on his lips, “Sorry, couldn’t resist,” and his lips are kissed red, your thumb brushed against his swollen lips, “don’t tempt me more,” 
“You’re the one who started this, shouldn’t you take some responsibility, Yu?” your lips graze his cheek, curling as a rosy flush settles over his cheekbones, “nothing to say?” 
“You’re making it hard for me to hold back,” and he’s burying his face in the side of your neck, making you shiver, as he pulls you even closer, arms around your waist, “I don’t want to rush you,” 
Cute, you think before you even think, and yet the way his face is hidden away in your neck, breath warming your neck makes your body flush, and when have you ever thought of Yuji as cute? And yet you couldn’t remember a time that he made your heart race either. 
His lips press a small kiss to your neck, drawing a yelp from your lips, “Yuji—“ he’s nosing the hollow of your throat, “ah, you’re teasing me,” you whine, and he’s lifting his gaze back to yours, heavy with want, a want that leaves you bereft of any semblance of sense. 
“You started it,” he murmurs, before he finds your lips in another kiss — this time it’s a slow heat, languid as it threatens to burn both of you alive, flames licking at the edges of your reason. And his phone goes off — a reminder for practice that he groans at, “I should go. I have to go run laps,” 
“Now?” And he’s slowly disentangling himself from you, the absence of his touch lingers, the heat ebbing, “don’t you usually practice in the mornings?” You get to your feet slowly as well, handing him his math notebook, and it occurs to you when you spot the puddles outside, “it was too wet,” 
And he nods, scratching the back of his head, as the two of you walk out into your apartment’s living space, “and I forgot my protein shake—“ you head over to the kitchen, opening the refrigerator door and pulling out his shake, and he blinks, “how—“ 
“You did the same thing last week, so I just bought a pack for you,” and his lips curl as he walks over and takes the bottle from your hand, fingers brushing — and even that much alight a flutter of nerves through your body. 
“Thanks,” he grins, and you nod. 
“Of course, I thought it just made sense since you come here every week—” you turn to shut the refrigerator, before turning back, only to find him stepping a bit closer, “Yu—“ 
“I almost forgot, one more lesson,” and he’s leaning close, and your breath catches in your throat, as his lips brush yours, fingers tracing the swell of your cheek, “a kiss goodbye,” and he parts, a brush of his fingers against yours, “I’ll text you later,” and he’s gone in a flash. 
Your left, fingertips touching your lips, a questioning lingering as he left — whether these feelings blooming in your chest were just from the kiss, or something more. 
But you glance at your phone — a text from Yuji: 
Golden Retriever Bestie: thanks for the drink again :)
You lock the screen — but you couldn’t hope for more, right? Not when this was started with the intention of stopping. But why—as you laid back into bed, staring up at your ceiling in the same room the two of you had spent the last two years watching movies or studying in, eyes squeezing shut—
Why did you still want more? 
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When did Yuji Itadori fall in love with you? It would probably be easier for him to list the moments he hadn’t fallen for you — but the earliest he can remember was when he had hurt himself climbing a tree in the schoolyard, falling from the branch he had made it to. You had been watching him the whole time, telling him to come down, and when he fell, you were at his side. His vision was a little blurry but when it cleared, he saw you knelt above him, big tears leaving your eyes. And when he came to, you hugged him tight, before helping him to the nurse’s. You had even insisted on bandaging his cuts, not letting the nurse do so. 
And that’s when he knew — he knew he always wanted to wake to you beside him. 
“You what?” Nobara scoffed at him, as she held up another of her new purchases in front of her while looking in her full length mirror, “so instead of asking her out and confession this pathetic crush—“ 
“Pathetic is kinda harsh, Kugisaki—“ 
“It’s been over a decade — your one sided feelings is now in secondary school — it’s officially pathetic,” she hangs up the new leather jacket she bought in her closet, before turning to Yuji, “so instead of confessing, you asked her to be your friends with benefits—“ 
“That’s not exactly—“ she cuts him off with a look, “ok that’s kind of what I did,” he shakes his head, “she was venting about how she never had her first kiss and words started coming out of my mouth and wouldn’t stop—“ 
“Not the first time that’s happened to you is it?” And Yuji glares at her through the mirror, “what? You came to me instead of Fushiguro because you wanted a pretty girl’s opinion right?” 
“I said girl, nothing about—“ it was her turn to glare at him, “alright, alright — what do I do now? I want to tell her I like her, but if I do, I might seem like a—“ 
“A creep? A weirdo? A pervert?” 
“I was gonna say liar, but those too,” he rubbed a hand down his face, “what do I do?” 
She sighs, tucking a strand of her dyed hair behind her ear, “the only thing to do in situation like this,” 
“Tell the truth?” And she scoffs. 
“No, of course not, just use this time to make her fall for you, but that means you’ll have to use this agreement to your advantage,” she hums, “she said she wanted more experience right?” And Yuji nods, “who says it has to just be making out and sex?” 
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“You want to go on a date? Fuck,” you mutter under your breath as you turn the heat of your burner down, hoping you hadn’t completely burned your omelet now as you flipped it, “I thought this was just supposed to be for the more…physical sides of things,” your cheeks burned. 
God, what the fuck. 
“I mean part of gaining experience is learning how to date, right?” And you’re placing your slightly burned omelet in the plate, as you wipe your hands off with your dishcloth, “we could go to an arcade, maybe catch a movie,” 
“Human Earthworm 4?” And you hear him chuckle over the line, and the sound makes your lips curl — it always felt like an accomplishment making him laugh, but even more so now.  
“We don’t have to—“ 
“I don’t mind,” you cut him off, and you never did — you just loved to tease him, as you always did, “they’ve grown on me,” and you didn’t know there was more room for Yuji to grow on you, you thought his roots had already went far and deep, tangled around every inch of yourself and your mind, even your heart — but now—
“Does 2 PM work? I’ll come by and pick you up from your place,” and you didn’t know where it would go but— 
“Sounds perfect,”  he had found his way into a place you never thought anyone would find themselves in. — and as he hung up, biting your bottom lip—
And it seemed he was here to stay. 
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“You’re such a cheater,” you glared at Yuji as he won for the tenth time at the boxing game — hitting the max score every time, “tell me what the trick is,” 
“You know I’m strong,” Yuji gapes,  holding his arm, “how would I cheat?” And you’re pouting, crossing your arms. 
“You’re cheating by being you,” and Yuji has to bite back his smile — you were being so cute — but he knows saying that will earn him a punch in the shoulder harder than you gave the punching bag on the machine, “now you have to buy me an ice cream,” 
“For?” He raises an eyebrow. 
“For being a cheater,” and he can’t help the chuckle that leaves his lips that earns him a bunch of slaps to his arm, before he’s wrapping that same arm around your waist, your complaints chased away by a gasp, “what—“ 
“I was going to buy you anything you wanted anyway, it is a date after all,” he smiles, and you stammer, but you don’t pull away, “what flavor do you want?” After you tell him, he goes off to the concession to buy you both some ice cream, and when he finds you at a table, he sees you’re not alone. His lips are a tight line, as he finds a guy leaning against the booth you sat in, clearly flirting with you, your back to Yuji so he can’t see your face. 
He finds his way back to you, his hand brushes your shoulder gently, “is everything okay?” He asks you, meeting your gaze without regard for the stranger — and he’s glad he did, because he spots your pursed lips and darting eyes that told him everything he needed to know, “you need something?” He asks the guy, a friendly smile on his lips. 
“Not from you,” the guy scoffs, “I was talking to—“ 
“Well, you’re talking to me now, not my date, so—“ and you’re leaning into Yuji, “you need something or not?” And the guy grumbles something under his breath before slinking away, and Yuji’s sliding in beside you when you move over, “you okay?” 
“Yeah, he wouldn’t leave,” you sigh, shaking your head, “sorry—“ 
“You have nothing to be sorry about,” he murmurs, as he hands you your ice cream, “as long as you’re okay,” his arm slides around your shoulder and squeezes you, “i would’ve punched him if it wouldn’t have ruined our date,” 
You snort, as you lick your ice cream, “if you punched him harder than you did the bag, don’t know if this date would have ended with us going home,” and he pouts, as he laps at his ice cream, and he feels you turn to look at him, “Didn’t know you were the jealous type, Yu,” and he chuckles, he wanted to say — only when it came to you. 
But he knew that he couldn’t. Not like this.  
“I didn’t think I was either.” 
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“Nope, not gonna admit it,” and Yuji’s grinning still, as the two of you walk out of the theater, his arm still around your shoulder, “no it wasn’t that good,” 
If there was one thing about Yuji is that movies were literally his obsession — one movie marathon when the two of you were teens had turned him into a fanatic. And he often ended up dragging you to all of them he saw in theaters — and you probably had watched the Human Earthworm movies the most amount of times anyone ever has — aside from Yuji. Well, more like you watched him watch it, because while he was smiling and laughing (or crying) at the movie, you were looking at him. 
And right now, he looked far too smug, “So you admit that it was good,” and you cross your arms, shaking your head, “I saw you tearing up at the end — I told you, it’s all about love!” 
You purse your lips, if only to hold back your smile, before sighing, “How would no one tear up at that ending?” And his hand’s grabbing yours, tugging at your arm, as the two of you walk along, “Yu—“ 
“I knew you liked it! C’mon, I knew you would, now what was your favorite part?” And your lips curl into a smile, “what?” 
That was one of the things you loved the most about Yuji, how excited he could get — how he loved everything so wholeheartedly with no reservations, and you knew he was the one person you could always count on to cheer you up. 
“Nothing, nothing,” you chuckle, letting your fingers lace with his, “my favorite part?” And you want to say — watching him enjoy the movie. 
But you can’t. 
“Probably the ending,” you slowly smile, “liked it when the credits rolled,” and he’s mock glaring, as you laugh before his arm tightening around your waist, “Yu-ji—“ 
“Not going to be honest?” He murmurs, before kissing your chin, “then maybe I’ll make you.” 
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“Yu—ngh, please,” Yuji could get addicted to your taste, it was never enough, was it? His lips had spent the last twenty minutes kissing every inch of your face and neck, traversing over every nook and cranny as he always wanted to — and yet it was never enough. Any time spent with you was never enough —because you always made anything better, and nothing ever worse. 
And he knew no one else would ever feel this good. 
How many times had he imagined just this scenario? Of you in his bedroom with him alone, as you had been many times before, but never like this. You never looked at him like that before — with that shyness mixed with an undercurrent of want. And it was enough to rip him away and drag him under with you. 
“Please what, baby?” Yuji looks up with a wry smile and soft eyes that burn a path where as it raked down your body like coals across a fire, “want me to stop?” And he’s dragging a thumb down your untouched lips. 
You cover your face with the back of your hand, and he’s gently tugging it away, pressing a kiss to your wrist, your pulse jumping underneath, “I want more,” and fuck if he wasn’t at full mast from the kissing, he was now at your words, “I want you to…kiss me and…touch me,” you mumble, eyes averted, but he’s smiling all the same — you were so cute. 
“Where can I touch?” he asks softly, his nose brushing yours, “need you to tell me. I don’t want to rush—“ 
And your lips crash against his, your fingers finding the back of his neck, threading in his pink locks. He’s pausing a moment before he melts into your kiss, and you’re taking the lead, as you lean further into the kiss, your fingers sliding down from his shoulder to his chest. His tongue flicks against the seam of your lips and you part for him. 
“I want you to touch me,” you murmur as you break the kiss, panting, strings of your spit still connecting your lips, your breathy words nearly enough for him to lose all control, “I’ll tell you if I don’t like it,” 
And he’s more than happy to oblige, his lips find yours in a bruising kiss, his hand toys with the hem of your shirt as permission, and you part from the kiss to nod. His hand slides up your soft flesh, pushing up your shirt along with it — finding your lacy bra underneath. He’s tugging the shirt up and over your head with your help, and god—
He has to stop himself from cumming right then and there at the sight of you. His fingers reach out, toying with the strap of your bra, “Did you wear this for me?” And you biting your bottom lip was all the answer he needed. 
“Yu—“ he’s tweaking your hardened bud through the fabric, “ah, fuck—“ and he leans down to suck the other side through your bra, while sliding down your bra strap. 
“Need to taste you,” and you’re nodding, while he’s reaching around to brush against the clasp of your bra to undo it, and his cock twitches at the sight of your bare skin — you’re so fucking pretty. 
He always thought you were pretty — when you were kids drenched from running around in the rain, when you were just waking up from a nap with your hair askew and dried drool in the corner of your mouth, when your eyes were wide with excitement and nearly jumping up and down to tell him good news; and when you’re smiling—especially when you’re smiling. 
It was his favorite thing. 
“Don’t stare so much,” you’re trying cover yourself, but his hands catch yours, easing them off, “It’s embarrassing—“ 
“You’re perfect,” and your lips part but no words come, but you can’t meet his gaze, “you are—“ 
“You’re just saying that—“ and his fingers pinch your nipple drawing a gasp from your lips, while he leans down and takes the other in his mouth. His eyes find yours, blown into deep, dark pools by his lust — ones you’d be more than willing to drown in. 
“I’d never just say that, especially to you, baby,” and you’re about to make a smart remark about him calling you ‘baby.’ But you forget every word you ever learned when his fingers start to drag down your stomach, fingers playing with the button of your jeans, “can I?” 
And you nod, your back arching ever so slightly as his lips press a sweet kiss to your bellybutton. He’s kissing down your soft legs as he tugs down your jeans — one to your thigh, another to your knee, and another to your ankle —before he’s kissing up the other. 
“How’s that feel?” he murmurs, eyes flitting up to meet yours, and fuck, your lips parted and swollen a pretty red, eyes half lidded with want, and — as his eyes fall between your thighs — a growing wet spot on your panties. 
His fingers toy with the elastic, snapping it lightly against your skin, a slight flinch only, as his eyes gaze at your clothed cunt with near reverence. He looks for permission, before he leans in to press a kiss to your swollen clit, a small yelp escaping your mouth. 
“Yuji,” you whine, lifting your head to meet his gaze again, “please,” 
“Say my name again, please,” he’s kissing your thigh gently, and it feels as if you’ll crumble under his touch any second, wither away in a figment of his imagination, and he won’t ever get the chance to hear you like this again, much less touch you. He was selfish to take advantage like this — and he knew he was — but he couldn’t leave it like this.
“Yuji, just touch me—“ and your head falls back as his fingers graze your clit through your nearly translucent underwear, “ngh, you fucker—“ and he’s chuckling, as he tugs your panties away. 
“Wanted to keep them on since you looked so good, but,” and he’s pocketing them with a grin, “I’ll just keep them instead,” your dripping walls twitch at the thought, “s’good for me. What do you want, my fingers or my tongue?” 
“Fuck, I don’t know, just touch—“ and your head lolls against the pillow as his tongue drags up flat up the length of your weeping pussy. 
“You’re so sweet — I could live here,” he murmurs, as his fingers spread your slick folds, a pretty moan falling from your lips as he does, “can’t wait to feel you cum around my fingers,” he’s easing a finger in — and you’re so tight, you’re tensing as he tries to part your walls, “relax, ok? I’ll be gentle. Don’t worry. I won’t ever hurt you,” his eyes meet yours and you’re nodding, as he pulls his finger away, a shiver at the empty ache, but it falls away into another moan as his tongue replaces it. 
The wet squelch of your folds is enough for him to cum right there — you smell as sweet as you taste, as he kisses your clit, before dragging the length of his tongue over your sopping slit again, “Yuji—fuck—“ your fingers find purchase in his pink locks right when he decides to sink a finger inside you again. 
“That’s it,” he grunts, as he works his finger knuckle deep into you, “so good f’me, so tight,” he’s murmuring, and your syrupy walls wrapped around his finger makes him wonder how good it will feel when his cock is inside you. He’s palming his erection through his pants, desperate for any kind of fucking friction, “g’nna add another,” 
And you’re nodding, “please, I—“ and a second finger joins the first, and the lewd noises grow louder from your slick and his fingers begin to pump faster — teasing and stretching your walls as they begin to flutter around you, “Yuji, Yuji—“ his name leaves your lips like a prayer, but he’s the one who would worship at your feet, if you’d let him, your moans and whimpers were all he needed to survive, and he’d give his very soul if it meant he could be at your side. 
His fingers are fucking you open, the tips of his fingers brushing against the spot that his your mouth falling open in a silent moan, “that’s it, cum for me, pretty girl,” and pleasure rips up your spine, as you cum all over his fingers, thighs shaking as you do. He fucks you slowly through your orgasm, helping you ride it out, until he’s slowing, leaning up to prsss sweet kisses to your face. 
“I’m going to pull them out slowly,” he murmurs, your eyes still fluttered shut, but they slowly open to watch him ease his fingers from you. Soft pants leave your lips as you watch him with lidded eyes lick his fingers sticky with your release clean. 
“Are you okay?” He’s murmuring, as he moves up to lean over your face, and you’re nodding, “let me clean you up and we can sleep, ok?” he’s moving to get off the bed, but you grab his hand, and he tilts his head. 
“What about you?” You mumble, frowning, eyes flickering to the tent in his pants with a shy gaze, “I want to—“ 
“It’s okay, let’s just take it easy today,” he’s smiling, fingers finding yours and squeezing, pressing his lips to your knuckles, “you look like you’re about to pass out,” and you’re pouting all the same, but you seem to relent as the exhaustion sets in once again at your words, “I’ll be right back,” and he retreats to his bathroom to wet a washcloth, only to come back to you fast asleep. 
He chuckles at the sight of you sprawled out on his bed — a sight not uncommon to him on nights you spent over, but never like this before. He leans on the bed carefully, mattress creaking ever so slightly under his weight, as he begins to clean you gently — and luckily, you don’t wake by the time he’s done. He can’t put your jeans or underwear on so he opts to grab a pair of his freshly washed shorts and slides them on you. He adjusts the blanket, draping it over you, running his fingers through your hair to tuck it behind your ear, and the back of his knuckles over your cheek. 
“Yuji,” you mumble in your sleep, and he bites his lip — as he returns to his bathroom, softly shutting the bedroom door and the bathroom door behind him, a glaring problem to deal with, as he is still nearly waddling at this point from the grazing of his boxers against his aching erection. 
He undoes his jeans quickly, eyes fluttering as he pushes both down and strips his shirt off before slipping into the shower. The squeak of the shower faucet and the water running hopefully don’t wake you — but more importantly, he hopes his moans don’t.  
His dick was rock hard and aching still — there were so many times he nearly came in his pants, and by how drenched his boxers were — maybe he had. But fuck, you were so gorgeous, laid back and spread out for him. 
His fingers grazed his weeping cock, smearing the precum up and down his length, thumb tracing his slit, as you would. He could see you thumbing his head experimentally, as your eyes flickered up at him, doe eyes, yet glazed over with lust. It wouldn’t be long until you’re slowly pumping him, as he does now — from base to tip, teasing his balls all the same. You’d flick your tongue over the tip, sucking at the dripping precum — wrinkle your nose at the salty taste, but you’d suck at his tip all the same. 
He’d look down at you as your hand switches to toying with his balls, as you let his cock slap against your tongue, before letting his length slip past your lips. Your lips would feel so much softer than his hand does right now, jerking himself off, your plush lips and tongue wrapped around his dick. A low groan escapes his lips, as he covers his mouth, hoping you couldn’t hear him over the running water. The squelch of his precum and his soft moans would only make him want to repay the favor, making you cum over and over, until you were begging him to stop. 
Fuck, he was close, by the way his cock twitched in his hand — where would he cum with you? He’d cum anywhere you wanted — but to cum on your face or chest, the image made him shudder. Your tongue would flick out to clean up some of the cum, and—
Fuck, he moans your name, as he cums all over his fingers, his release sprayed against the tile of his shower, dripping down and mixing with the water. He’s panting, as he cleans his hand off in the shower, leaning his head back. 
What has he gotten himself into? Was it right for him to do this? You didn’t know how he felt — and he didn’t know if you would ever feel the same. But as he got dressed and crawled into bed beside you, keeping his distance as you slept, he felt you move closer, mumbling his name as you did. He couldn’t help but softly smile, running his fingers through his hair—it didn’t matter if you never ended up loving him, as long as you knew what you deserved—to be with someone who loved you, as much or even more than he did. 
He let himself drift off, a loose arm thrown over your middle—he’d let himself have this, if only for now. 
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“Oh come on, you couldn’t get the ad free version, Fushiguro?” Nobara complains as yet another commercial comes on, as she glares at the black haired vet student, who sat on the floor after she stole his armchair. 
He only shrugs, bearing little to no reaction, “If you’re going to complain, then why don’t you pay for it?” 
Nobara and him begin to bicker ever so slightly, and Yuji chuckles in your ear, “are they more fun to watch then the show?” 
The four of you were at your apartment, watching a new season of a TV show you all had started last year. You were sat next to Yuji on the couch, your bodies nearly pressed against each other as you shared the blanket, a little cold from the rain outside. 
“They’re always more entertaining than the show, that’s why we agree to this,” you whisper back, the proximity of your bodies making your cheeks burn. You turn away, hoping he can’t feel or even hear the way your heart was beating down your ribs to burst free. Every time he shifted even slightly, you felt your body react — so conscious of even a twitch of his fingers — you wanted to bury yourself under the blanket. 
It had been like this since that night. 
You had woken up to him asleep beside you. Your eyes fluttered open as consciousness slowly crept into focus, sunlight filtering into sight, a small groan leaving your lips. And it wasn’t until you tried to reach for your phone you realized the thing beside you wasn’t a pillow but a person.  
Your eyes flew open and you found Yuji still sound asleep beside you. It wasn’t unusual for the two of you to sleep on the same bed — especially after a late night where one or the other didn’t want to go home — but it was different to wake up entangled with him, especially after the events of the night before came flooding back. 
And after that, each time you had been around him, you had become more and more conscious of his touch, nervous even, at the simplest of brushes of his fingers. And this? His body pressed against yours, his fingers grazing your thigh nearly, and his soft breath against your ear — god, you were going to lose it. 
“You ok?” he murmurs a half an hour later, and the question itself makes you squirm — because no, your hot best friend was pressed against you and making you want to do nothing more than kiss him— 
Wait, wait, hot? Your mind stutters at your own thoughts, lagging to comprehend yourself — hot? You wanted to kiss him? You always knew Yuji was hot, he was objectively — especially based on how many of your friends had wanted you to hook them up with him — but you had never thought of him that way. Maybe in passing — but to you, that was the one line you could never cross, especially when you had seen so many friendships fall apart because of a relationship. 
You never wanted to risk Yuji like that. 
But then here you were — blurring that line you said you never cross — and letting the ground split underneath the two of you. 
“I’m fine,” you mumble back — and yet here he was, seemingly unfazed by your proximity and as the minutes ticked by, it began to eat away at you. Did he not find it as meaningful as you did? Did he not feel as good as you? Do you need to touch him just to make him feel just as heartsick as you were? 
And now you know what you wanted to do. 
As the show went on, Nobara and Fushiguro fell asleep — Fushiguro asleep with a cushion he had stolen from Nobara’s armchair and Nobara curled up in said armchair, passed out. 
“Should we stop the show and go to bed?” Yuji asks you, albeit innocently — but there was anything but innocent intentions in your mind when you shake your head, a smile on your lips. 
“Let’s keep watching,” your fingers grazes his thigh, as you lean over, lips nearly brushing against his ear, “it’s just getting interesting, right?” 
And his breath hitches, “what’re you—“ and your fingers inches higher, grazing over his already tenting erection, a hiss escapes his lips, as he’s covering his mouth. 
“Shh, don’t wake them,” and your fingers are ghosting and teasing over his cock, the precum already starting to seep through the fabric, as he shifts under your touch. Your thumb flicks over his head, now fully hard, “so big already,” you mumble, and now your lips press sweet kisses to his neck, finding small cuts and bruises from his practices, and a gasp escaped his lips. 
“We shouldn’t be doing this—“ and your lips find his, and he melts so easily into your touch, your fingers toy with the elastic of his shorts, his eyes flickering to the two sleeping. He’s pulling away for a breath, lips utterly ruined — his fingers running through his hair, “please—“ and your lips curl. 
Your fingers finally brush against his leaking cock, and his head falls back, his cheeks flushed a pretty pink, lips parted as soft pants left his lips. And you’re nearly shivering yourself at his want — seeping into your own body, as his pants and moans send a wave of heat between your thighs. 
You rub your thighs together, as you shift even closer somehow, “Gotta be quiet Yu — they can hear us after all,” you murmur, right as your thumb swipes over his slit, a yelp caught in his throat, as his hand flies back to lips, “good boy,” and his dick twitches at the praise, as your finger begins to trace along his veins, “so big, how am I going to fit you inside?” you murmur, biting back a smirk when a muffled groan reaches your ears. 
Your fingers finally curl around his length, you never thought a cock to be pretty — but Yuji’s was. You stared at it under the covers, flushed a lovely red, too dripping pearly beads of precum, and the slight curve it had to it — made the ache in your cunt only grow. 
“Please, baby, I need, please—“ he’s whining, “I need you—“ 
And you oblige him, your hand beginning to spread the pre along his length, beginning to stroke him slowly from base to tip. He’s biting his lip, hard, nearly drawing blood as he chooses to bury his face in the crook of your neck, if only to muffle any moans that fell from his lips. 
“S’good for me, Yu, wanna make you feel as good as I did,” his moan vibrates against your skin, cock twitching in your fingers, “gonna move faster, don’t want our friends to see you like this, do you? You have to be quiet,” and god, why did only seem to get harder at your words? 
Your fingers begin to jerk him off in earnest, the wet squelch of his cock nearly not hidden enough by the volume of the TV, but nearly don’t care at this point — you just want him to fall apart under your touch, need him to. 
And oh, he’s so close. His groans are more frequent, his hips jerking against your fist, and when your other hand finds his balls, squeezing — it’s too much. 
He moans softly, “I’m—“ and that’s all he manages before he spills on your fingers — warm, white spurts splatter against your palm and the blanket, dripping, as he falls back, limp against the sofa. His cock softened in your hand, as you pull it away, before gently wiping him clean with the already drenched blanket. 
He’s panting and fucked out, eyes half lidded as his chest rises and falls, watching you lick your fingers clear of his release, gaze never leaving his. 
“Didn’t know you’d taste this good—“ you barely can manage, before he’s leaning forward to kiss you. Your fingers slide against his cheek to cup it, feeling his hand tangle itself in your hair, “Yuji—“ 
“What was that about?” he murmurs, “not that I’m complaining but—“ but then Megumi starts to move and you both freeze, your breath catching, until Megumi seemingly falls back asleep, “we should head to bed, but—“ 
He looks at the blanket, and the mess you made of him and the couch alike. 
“The blanket I’ll toss in the washer, the cushion I’ll clean up and just turn over—“ and you smile, “and you take a shower before bed,” 
His brow still knits together, “but we haven’t—“ 
“We’ll talk later,” and when later came, Yuji found you fast asleep in bed, with more questions than answers. But he supposed, as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his answers could come later. 
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How long has it been? 
You stared at your phone — as if you could will it to receive the message you’ve been waiting for. As if it would grant your one and only wish for a text or a call — but it didn’t. Instead, it only gave you a spam call and a text to let you know you had a discount code for your favorite takeout place. 
Great. 
It had been a week since you had heard from Yuji — and a week since that night. You had woken up to the other three gone — gone off to their own apartments after you had slept in and texts on your phone from them in the groupchat. It was a few days before break — before you and Yuji would be heading back home for a few days together. But you hadn’t seen him at all since — not a chance to talk, much less seeing him. 
Was he upset? Was he done with this? Was his promise to stay empty in the end? Was it your fault — for pushing it, for agreeing to it, and for falling for it all the same? Falling for it or — your eyes trace the screen of your phone as if it’s his cheek — or falling for him. 
No, you rake your fingers through your hair, no, you didn’t love him — not like that. Not the way you shouldn’t, the way you had sworn yourself never to — but maybe all promises between friends were empty, when they were made like this. 
But you weren’t made to let this break apart. 
You found yourself at his door after classes, knocking at his door of his apartment. The door opens, and you find Yuji rubbing his eyes, hair askew, and shoulders drooped. 
“Hey,” he yawned, he’s still shaking off the shackles of sleep, “sorry, what’s up?” 
“Are you okay?” Your furrow your brow, your eyes spot the dark bags under his eyes, large enough to nearly engulf his eyes all together, “you look like you haven’t slept in days,” he steps aside to let you in, you glance around, his apartment wasn’t usually the cleanest — but it wasn’t a wreck like it was now. Clothes scattered, unwashed dishes stacked up, and papers strewn about. 
“I just haven’t…been sleeping—“ and then you remember. 
It wasn’t about you. It was about him. And you were so wrapped up in yourself, you weren’t thinking about him. 
“Yuji, you’re having those nightmares again, aren’t you?” You murmur softly, and the way his gaze falls to the ground tells you everything you need to know, “alright, go lay down,” 
“What?” he’s blinking, but your hand already finds his as you take him to his bedroom, “what are you—“ 
“You lay down. I’m going to make you dinner, and then you’re going to sleep,” and he sits on the bed reluctantly, fingers against his knees, as he bit his lip. 
“I can’t sleep, I told you—“ you cup his cheek, and guide his gaze to yours. 
“Remember what we’d do when you couldn’t sleep after the accident?” 
“This feels ridiculous,” Yuji murmurs into your chest, his head buried there, while your fingers run softly through his pink locks, “we’re not six anymore—“ 
“So what? Doesn’t mean we can’t do this still,” you say, as your fingers pause, “unless you don’t want me to,” 
“I didn’t say that,” he mumbles, and you can hear the blush in his voice that undoubtedly painted his cheeks, “I just meant it feels like I’m bothering—“ 
“Yu, don’t make me pinch you,” you murmur, rubbing his head, “you’re never a bother,” you kiss his head softly without thinking, and soon your cheeks are burning too, “sorry I didn’t—“ 
“Why are you sorry?” He chuckles, “we’ve done a lot more than kiss recently,” and he adds, “especially you,” 
You bite your lip, glad he couldn’t see your face like this, “I thought that’s why you weren’t talking to me, I thought you didn’t like what I did…on the couch, you know—“ 
“I know,” he chuckles this time, “and how could I not like that?” And you swallow the lump in your throat, as the two of you fall into a comfortable silence that you choose to breach. 
“You haven’t had these nightmares in a while,” you murmur quietly, before you add, “we don’t have to talk—“ 
“I know, but it happens from time to time, especially this month,” and your brow furrows, “don’t wrinkle your forehead at me,” and you lean back to gape at him, a smile pulling at his lips, “you always do that when you find out I’m keeping something from you,” 
He moves ever so slightly away, turning to look at the ceiling, “Well I think I have a right because this is a pretty big thing to keep from me, Yu,” you pout, and your fingers begin to absentmindedly trace his jaw, his eyes fluttering shut — you always treated him so gently, like that something that could shatter, but he knew you would always be there to put him back together. Because you did that once already. Over a decade ago, “why didn’t you tell me?” 
Because he didn’t want to worry you. Because he didn’t want you to think of him still as that broken kid you watched after when he had his world fall apart. 
Because he didn’t want you to take that burden — he wanted to handle it himself. 
“I didn’t want to bother you—“ 
“It’s never a bother when it’s you,” and his voice catches in his throat — fuck, how did you always know just what to say? 
He takes a breath, “it’s just the same dream. Of the crash,” he could see something so clearly that he never experienced. He was at home with you when the crash happened — a play date Yuji had insisted on when he had cried and begged his parents to stay with you instead of going to dinner with them. They had relented — and that was the thing that left him alone. 
It was lucky that his grandfather was able to take him in, and stay close by — so he still got to go to school with you. 
“Let’s try to sleep, ok?” You murmur, “you’ll feel better when you sleep,” you cup his cheek, and he’s biting his lip, “what is it?” 
“What if I see it again?” He whispers, as if he’s afraid that his words were any louder he would speak it into existence. 
“Come here,” you say softly, your fingers gently guide his head to face you,  “I’ll keep you safe, I promise,” A sigh leaves his lips as he moves closer, letting you engulf him in your arms, his eyes shutting, and letting himself relax for a moment — the first moment in far too many days. 
When he let himself slip into sleep’s embrace—it was the first night he didn’t dream of the crash — he dreamt of you.  
And when he woke in your arms in the morning, your soft lips parted as you slept, sunlight dappled on your skin through his window, and the way your fingers held onto the fabric of his shirt — he knew, he knew he had to tell you how he felt. 
He needed to end this — his fingers brushing a strand of hair behind your ear — if only to begin something new. 
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You had to end it — it hadn’t sunk in until the car drove back home. The quiet morning drive left you both in a comfortable silence, the quiet white noise of his playlist, along with Yuji’s terrible singalongs and your bickering over his music choice. And you found yourself more than once staring at him as he drove, to the point where he had caught you looking. 
“What?” He tilts his head when the light turned red, fingers drumming on the steering, the other poking your side. 
“Nothing,” and you’re playfully slapping his hand away, a smile on your lips — same smile you always had with him. Always—because he’s your best friend. But he was so much more than that. 
You were in love. 
The two of you had returned to the place where you had laid your roots to rest and let your seed scatter to the wind. Only to return as a different flower altogether — but you knew, you couldn’t let it go on. 
It had become painfully clear that morning, you had woken first, the sun had not peaked over the horizon yet, and you found Yuji fast asleep — breaths even and face relaxed. You knew his parents had scarred him deeply — he spoke of them often, but not at all at — he mentioned their presence, but never his own feelings. You knew he had a habit of putting others above himself — but you had missed this — all of this week, you could have been there for him, but you were caught up in your own thoughts and you had made it all about yourself. 
And he deserved more than that. 
He deserved more than you. 
And you couldn’t risk losing him — lose him in a stupid argument or a disagreement and then never be able to comfort him again? Never be able to be by his side? You couldn’t bear to even fathom that. 
“Nanamin was asking about you,” Yuji says as the two of you walk home from the local convenience store — a late night run that produced a familiar bag of treats the two of you always shared when you came back home. 
“Oh really? Are classes over for high school already?” The English literature teacher had taken Yuji in for his last year and half of high school after his grandfather passed, and Yuji always stayed with him on breaks. 
“He asked if you were going to come with us to see my parents tomorrow morning,” it was a tradition to go visit Yuji’s parents graves each year around this time — you always paid your respects whenever you could, “he also said you’re free to stay over, but you have to sleep in a different bedroom,” you snort, “he said and I quote ‘we are past the age of sharing a room,’” You laugh, cheeks burning as you shake your head, “he’s not exactly wrong though,” his fingers graze yours, and there’s nothing more you want than to take his hand, but you know one way or another, you’d drop it in the end. Wouldn’t it be better now? When there isn’t far to fall? 
So you do, letting your hand fall away from his. 
“I’d be happy to see your parents, but I don’t know if staying over is a good idea—“ and he’s shaking his head with a chuckle in his throat. 
“Don’t worry, I won’t do anything you don’t want to—“ 
“We should stop, Yuji,” and his smile slips off his face as if it was slapped off, he blinks, shock settling into confusion. 
“Why?” Only one word and it manages to break you all the same. 
“We just shouldn’t. This was supposed to be about teaching me, but i think I’ve learned enough,” you’re turning away, but his fingers are gently finding your wrist, “Yuji—“ 
“You don’t think I can’t tell when you’re lying?” Yuji asks, and your glass-like facade shatters so easily — why does it always have to break so readily when it comes to him? 
But you pull away all the same, “I can’t do this anymore. Not like this. I don’t want to. I can’t lose you—“ 
“You won’t lose me—“ but you’re already walking off, sparing a glance back. 
“I’ll see you tomorrow morning when we leave, Yuji,” and he’s opening his mouth to call out, but he stops himself, watching you disappear up the street. 
What just happened? 
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The car ride to the cemetery is notably silent. Yuji’s eyes burned when he woke, head aching from the circles he ran around in last night, trying to figure out what happened. Nanami drives in the quiet, his eyes noting when Yuji chooses to sit passenger instead of beside you, only with one glance that’s averted after Yuji refuses to meet it. 
Yuji didn’t know what to make of what you said. After everything, he thought maybe — just maybe, you felt the same as he did. He thought he could tell you tomorrow, tell you when the two of you were alone — and even if it didn’t work out, it would be okay. 
But now — as his eyes stole a look at you in the rear view mirror, he wondered if it ever would be okay again. 
You left the car a moment to go use the bathroom when they stopped to fill gas in the car, and that’s when Nanami speaks. 
“So did you finally ask her out and she said no?” And Yuji’s head snaps to his, but Nanami only stares back, “you aren’t hard to read, Itadori. You’ve liked her for a long time,” 
Yuji scratches the back of his head, “I did something, kinda stupid,” and Nanami tilts his head, “really stupid, ok? And I was going to tell her how I felt, but she broke off what we were doing—“ 
“You weren’t dating?” Yuji’s cheeks burn as he waves off his teacher. 
“That’s not important! But what do I do, Nanamin?” the blond haired teacher raised an eyebrow. 
“It’s not hard to know what to do, Itadori. It’s what you should have done. Tell her how you feel,” and then you’re walking back to the car, “come on, let’s get back. We’re close now.” 
And your gaze avoids his own when Yuji watches you get back in the car, and his lips part as if to stop you — but he doesn’t. 
Not yet. 
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You stood with Yuji as he tended to his parents’ graves. Simple stones that he was able to put in with time from his part time jobs, ones he had insisted he would pay for himself — refusing any help from anyone, even you. You knelt down, helping him clear the strewn dead leaves, brushing away dirt and snow — your fingers brushing when you both reach for the same place. 
And your eyes meet, as both of your fingers intertwine slowly — the three of you pay your respects, and Nanami finally stands. 
“I’ll wait for you two at the car,” Nanami says with a nod, leaving the two of you alone. You both already had placed offerings at their graves, arranging them slowly, as the two of you stand, the silence of the cemetery hanging overhead — light streaming in between clouds in the overcast sky, the sounds of the wind rustling the trees the only thing in the quiet. 
“Thank you for coming,” Yuji says softly, and your blink, eyes sliding to his. 
“You never have to thank me for that, Yuji,” you squeeze his hand, “as long as you want me to come, I’ll always be here. And I’ll always pay my respects to your parents, regardless of that,” you say, and that's exactly why you had to stop with him. You couldn’t bear to lose him — lose this, not when he’s lost too much and he was too much for you to lose, “come on, we should get back to the car,” as you pull your hand away from his. 
And maybe things could get back to normal. 
“I know,” and he doesn’t move as you turn to leave, “and that’s why I love you,” 
And you smile, “I love you too—“ 
“I don’t mean it like that,” and you freeze a moment, his words barely processing before he continues to speak, “I mean I do love you in that way too — but that’s not how I meant it now,” he says, as you turn to face him — not finding a hint of humor on his expression. 
“Yuji—“ your brain can barely process your best friend confessing to you — much less next to his parents’ graves— “should we be having this conversation—“ 
“It’s the perfect place to have this conversation,” he glances around at all of the graves, and he’s shaking his head, “maybe not the perfect place, but—“ his gaze softens when he finds yours, “you saved me,” 
“Yuji—“ 
“No, you did. After my parents died,” he stares at the stones side by side — “I could barely function. I barely wanted to do anything but sleep — but you, you pulled me out of bed. You made me go places. You made me smile again,” he says, “but that’s not the reason I fell in love with you,” his lips curl into a soft smile, “it’s because it’s you — your smile, your laugh, your being — it reminded me of happiness existed, and then I realized you were the only person who could make me happy the way you do,” 
“Yuji—“ 
“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same. But I don’t want to lose you, lose this chance to tell you how I feel, to tell you—“ 
“Yuji—“ 
“And I’ve always loved you — there’s never been—“ and you’re hugging him, before you even know you are, your arms are around his middle, face buried in his chest, as he murmurs your name. 
“The only reason I broke it off was,” your voice wavers despite your efforts to force it to stay even, “I didn’t to lose you by not being good enough—“ 
“You just have to be you,” his brow furrowed into the same valleys he teased you for, “you’re all I need,” his hand finds your cheek, guiding your gaze to his, “how could you think you weren’t enough?”
“You don’t tell how you feel sometimes — you don’t tell me what you’re thinking, I didn’t even know you had nightmares—“ you break off, “what if we continued this and you realized you deserved better than me? And it was already too late for me because I love—“ you break off. 
“You what?” he asks, and you’re biting your lip, “I’ll say it again if it will make you—“ 
Fuck it. 
You lean up and press your lips to his, swallowing his words as your hand finds purchase on his shoulder. And it felt right. As it always did with Yuji. 
“I love you too,” you whisper against his lips, “I love you, in the same way you do,” 
“As a friend?” And your brow furrows, “kidding! Kidding—ow!” You’re smacking him playfully, before he catches both of your wrists and pulls you close, “does that mean I can call you mine?” 
“Or baby,” and he flushes, a cute pout on his lips, “what? Isn’t it—“ and he’s kissing you again, your heart leaping as he does, his hands sliding around your hips, “Yu-“ 
“And what’s my pet name? You still haven’t given me one—“ 
“Have some decorum,” a voice cuts through, and the two of you jump apart, as Nanami stands, glaring at the two of you, “come on, if you’re done paying your respects, then we should go home,” he sighs, rubbing his temples, “the dead shouldn’t have to put up with this.” 
Yuji’s cheeks are tomato red at this point — as he covers his face— but you only chuckle, your fingers intertwining with his, squeezing, “c’mon let’s go, and maybe I can give you a pet name when we get home,” and you both turn to face his parents, as you pay your respects and head down the path a little. 
Yuji faces his parents, kneeling down to say goodbye again — and he remembers how it was their idea to set up Yuji to have a playdate with you, all those years ago. And now, here you were — the most important person in his life. 
“Thank you for everything you did for me,” and he glances at you over his shoulder as he gets up, “especially for helping me find her.” 
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“Yu-ji—“ you gasp, as he’s tugging you into your bedroom, bumping himself carelessly into the wall as he guides you both to your bedroom. You giggle as he presses you against the wall outside your room, “I text you my parents are going out for dinner and this is how you greet me? What happened to hello—“ 
His lips crash against yours and you forget about ‘hello’ and just about every other word in your head. Your lips curl against his lips, as his body cages you against the wall. It had been a few days since you and Yuji had been able to have a moment alone—Nanami was watching you both cautiously, while your parents had been keeping you busy at home, seeing family or cleaning up around the house. And Yuji was growing increasingly desperate for some time with you — that wasn’t hidden brushes of fingers under the table or stolen kisses out of sight from family or friends. 
“I missed you so much, baby,” he’s murmuring — and you didn’t know it was so possible to look like a kicked puppy so much until you met Yuji, “can’t believe Nanami was so mean and kept making us keep the door open—“ 
“It didn’t help that he walked in us making out on your bed three times—“ and a moan escapes your lips as he kisses your neck, teeth grazing against your racing pulse, “fuck, Yu—“ 
“How do you always taste so good?” he mumbles against you as he leads you inside your bedroom and shuts the door. His eyes glance around your childhood room, as he takes in the childhood posters plastered on the walls, the untouched books, the stuffed animals from a millennium ago that still lined your bed. 
“My family has not changed much here for years,” your cheeks burn, as he only chuckles, walking you backwards into your bed, and you climb into the bed, only grabbing a stuffed animal from behind you, “remember this?” 
He snorts, as he takes the stuffed penguin from your hands, “How could I forget? I tried a million times to win this,” 
You tilt your head, “You said you won it your first try—“ and you gasp as he looks away, cheeks flushed, “you were trying to impress me,” 
“Not that much,” and you’re leaning closer, brushing your lips against his, “maybe just a little,” you kiss him more insistently this time, sliding against his, fingers curling in his soft strands, “maybe too much,” and you smirk, noses bumping as your lips find each other’s again and again. 
And your fingers slide down to drag his shirt up and over, freeing his chest and abs to your sight — and what a sight it is. So toned and tanned from his American football practices in the sun — perfect for your fingers and lips to explore the peaks and valleys of his body, hands already far too eager.
He returns the favor by lifting your own shirt off in an instant, groaning when he finds you wearing nothing underneath — your eyes can’t help but flit down and find his erection already tenting in his sweatpants. 
“Fuck, baby, you’re so perfect,” his eager hands are already teasing and palming you breasts, a whimper drawn out by his precise pinches and touches, “so good for me,” and your hands drag down his chest, leaning down to press kisses to his chest as your fingers trace along his abs, making him groan. 
He’s pouting, after he pulls you into another kiss, “it’s not fair,” he mumbles into the side of your neck, “I feel like I’m always the one who’s more nervous than you are,” 
You chuckle, kissing his jaw, “I felt the same way, why do you think I touched you on our TV marathon that night?” 
And he’s blinking, as you lay back on the bed for him, “you didn’t know—“ you shake your head. 
“You had offered to help get experience, and even when we had done things, you were just so…normal,” he chuckles, before laying beside you. 
“I had some practice acting normal around you, but I really didn’t. I think you nearly gave me a heart attack that night,” and you grin, drawing so close that you even feel the hitch of his breath. 
“That good, huh?” You tease, and it only takes a moment until he’s hovering over you, lust pooled in his gaze that lights a fire on your body wherever it lays. 
And his lips meet yours right after he whispers, “I’ll show you good.” 
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“One more, baby,” Yuji tells you, but you barely hear it through the haze of pleasure and heat that fills the room, along with the sounds of the squelch of his fingers in your tight cunt, “just need one more,” 
And how many times had he made you orgasm already? You’d lost count — five or six at least. The first had taken some time, working his finger into your weeping slit, the way your walls stretch around him make you wonder how good it will feel when he fucks you. It’s not long before he’s sinking another finger in, the sounds and feelings of his digits curling is enough to bring you to orgasm. And the rest are a blur — another finger in your tight entrance, fucking you open as he toyed with your walls, until you came again and again. 
And now he bent down, lips around your clit, teasing and sucking at the sensitive bud, as your fingers curled in his pink locks as the lewd moans fell from your mouth with ease. You’re so close — so fucking close, and when his fingertips brush against that spot and it’s all too much. 
You cum around his fingers and mouth, his name on your lips as you do, back arching against him, as he eases his fingers from your cunt. He licks his fingers clean as your eyes flutter open to meet his, “You taste so good, baby — you’re perfect,” and you watch as his tongue flicks out to clean his lips and chin of your sticky release. 
And soon enough he’s kissing you, hand cupping your cheek, letting you taste yourself on his lips, as your fingers drag over his bare chest and follow his happy trail into the elastic of his boxers. A soft moan leaves his kiss ruined lips, as his eyes are lidded with lust, soft pants against your skin. 
“Is this a dream?” Yuji murmurs, his lips ghosting along your jaw, “never thought we would get here,” and you turn your head to meet his lips in another sweet kiss. 
“It isn’t, we’re here. Took us long enough,” your lips curl, your fingers tracing over his cheek, “and nowhere else I rather be — or no one else I rather be with,” 
“You sure?” And you’ve flipped him over, kissing down his body, fingers tugging at the elastic of his boxers until his dick is freed from the fabric, “fuck, baby, you don’t have—“ 
And his words are cut off with a grunt as your fingers grazes his erection, teasing his weeping head. You start to pump up and down, working the thick beads of precum over his length, his head falling back. 
“How’s your cock so pretty, Yu?” you coo, blowing air over his dick, making him twitch in your hand, “never thought one of these would ever be so pretty,” you let his length slap against your tongue, slowly dragging it down your 
He hisses, hands grasping at the sheets, as you bend down to flick his tongue against the head of his cock. Your lips close around it, and suck, raising the back of his hand to cover his mouth, “fuck, s’good, baby, I—“ 
And you’re letting his cock sink past your lips, your tongue flicking against his slit. Your eyes find his own, as you hollow out your cheeks and sucking hard, and his hips buck into your mouth. His tip brushes against your throat, and you’re moaning around him, your fingers cup his balls, nails digging into your scalp. 
“Baby, fuck, I’m close—where—“ and he’s trying to ease you off, but your hands only hold his hips in place. Your nose brushing against his pubes. And when you’re suck hard on his tip, toying with his sack, only for him to moan your name, before cumming down your throat, his hot release painting your insides. 
You’re slowly pulling off his dick, a string of cum and spit connecting your lips to his cock, a smile on your face. You swallow his release, the salty taste still on your lips as you watch him pant, chest rising and falling. 
“Taste so good, Yu,” you murmur, and you’re moving back up to kiss him, “think I’m addicted,” you murmur, as your lips find each other again and again. 
“Now you know how I feel,” he smiles, fingers running through your hair, “been addicted to you for over a decade,” and he’s sitting up, guiding you into his lap slowly, “we can always stop right here, we don’t have—“ 
You kiss him softly, the way he deserved, the way you’ve wanted to for so long, “I want to, Yuji, I really want to,” your fingers intertwine with his, squeezing his hand, his arm slipping around your waist, “because I love you,” 
And your fingers grasp his hardening cock, pressing it to your dripping slit, and god, he’s so fucking big. You knew how big he was, but just feeling him pressed against you makes you ache at how he’ll be stretching you out. He drags his dripping tip against your slit, letting your cum mix together, letting his head catch on your clit. 
Finally, you’re sinking onto him, his thick length parting your walls, inch by inch. Your head falls back, as he leans into your touch, watching you flinch at the stretch, “you okay?” Yuji’s pressing sweet kisses to your lips and cheek, “should I stop—“ 
“No, no, I’m fine, it’s starting to feel good,” your arms wrapping around his neck, burying your face in the crook of his neck, “ and he’s helping you sink into him, until finally your hips are flush to his, “fuck, Yu—you’re so deep—“ his cock twitches against your walls, a shiver up his spine at your words. 
And he’s panting, his lips pressed to your shoulder, “you feel s’good, baby — so wet and warm—“ you smile, cupping his cheek, “can’t believe this is real — can’t believe—“ 
“It’s real, Yuji, it’s real,” your lips curl into a smile, “I’m here, I love you,” 
“I love you too, I love you so much,” he kisses you again and again, as he shifts slowly under you, swallowing a gasp that leaves your lips. 
“Please, Yuji, move—“ and he obliges, beginning to fuck into you, and your head falls back, as his cock rocks into you, a moan falling from your lips as you do. He’s groaning your name again and again, a grunt when you begin to ride him in tandem, both of your thrusts sending him deeper into you. 
“Baby, fuck, you’re perfect. You’re so good f’me,” his lips finding your neck, as his strokes become faster and deeper, the sounds of your skin slapping together rings in your ears as he fucks you harder and harder, “g’nna cum, s’close,“ 
“I’m close too,” you’re panting as his lips find yours in a sloppy, messy kiss that has you losing yourself more and more, as his thrusts become more and more swallow. And when he finds your clit between your bodies, rubbing as he finds that one spot that has you seeing stars, “Yuji- I’m—“ 
And you cum hard around him, soaking his cock and thighs as you do, walls squeezing him tight until he’s spilling his warm seed inside you. You slow as you do, legs quivering, as you nearly slump against him and he holds you impossibly closer. He helps you both detangle, easing his softening cock from inside you, a small groan as he sees your mixed releases leaking from you. He helps you lie back, as he wraps his arms around you, running his fingers through your hair. 
“Are you okay?” he whispers, brow furrowed in slight worry as your eyes flutter open, lips curling as your fingers smooth the wrinkles of his forehead. 
“I’d be better if you’d kiss me,” you whisper and he obliges, a soft kiss to your lips that leaves you warmer than you were before, “now I’m perfect,” 
“You always were,” and you chuckle, rolling your eyes, before shaking your head, burying your face in the crook of his neck. 
“No, that’s because I had an excellent teacher,” and he laughs, before he pulls you even closer, finding your lips in a kiss. 
“And you always will.” 
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“Come on, Fushiguro, pay up,” Nobara holds out her hand, as Megumi glares, pulling out his wallet and plucking money from his wallet and handing it to her. 
“You cheated,” he says as she snatches the money, counting it with a grin on her lips, “I don’t know what you did, but I know you did,” 
“You never said we couldn’t give them advice,” she grins, as she pockets his money, “and all I did was give Yuji a nudge, he’s the one who fucked—“ 
“Alright,” Megumi rubs his temples, “I get it, but it’s still unfair — we’ve been waiting for them to get together all these years and all of sudden he gets the idea to become her friends with benefits—“ and Nobara only grins wider, “you didn’t—“ 
She shrugs, “you can wait around for two idiots to figure it out, or you can shove them off the deep end.” 
“I knew you cheated,” Megumi grumbles, “that’s the last time I ever make a bet with you, Kugisaki,” 
And she smirks, “Well now you’ve been taught a lesson too.” 
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✧ a/n: another celebration fic done! now just one more and then i can start preparing for the next follower celebration :). i've settled on using wips but i'll pick out a bunch of prompts for you all to request for certain ones. that way, you all have had a hand in them <3. thank you to laney for helping beta <3.
✧ taglist: @adrenova, @nakariabnrb, @skvllknight, @hanlay, @spider-fan72, @anonimusunnoaniswriting, @chososcamgirl, @thenezuko, @catsgomurp, @too-much-snow, @sashaiko, @forest-fruits-jam, @rita-ritarita, @anyaeuh, @dezznuggetsblog, @jayathelostdragon, @newspapergirlmal, @2livelaughlovefictionalmen2, @being-me-is-not-a-sin, @xoocii, @firelordazulaaaa, @cira273, @twosec0nd, @ororomunroro, @sunamatic, @withoutanameyet, @gojorgeous, @masctomboy805, @hantaslittlearsonist, @lemonpoppy-seed, @malmare, @teraine, @boopadoopa333, @jeyughh, @coffeebun17, @faeryli, @katienaps, @tojbitch, @fushitoru, @soulofoz, @yamaguccitadashi
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zweigsangel · 1 month
Text
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pairing: older!rafe x spoiled!kook!reader warnings: smut, age gap (18&22), pet names, p in v, unprotected sex, rough sex and more. word count: 2720
this is so long i’m sorryyyy, but i’m kinda proud of how it turned out so hope you enjoy !
you were a spoiled little brat. always demanding and getting what you wanted. your tantrums were a familiar scene, a tool you wielded expertly against your parents. and they always seemed to work, every. single. time. luxury bags, designer costumes, the latest dresses — you had everything that other girls could only dream of having. your life was perfect; boys were at your feet, a lot of girlfriends, parties every night, and you were the star of the show. what else could someone expect from an eighteen-year-old kook?
“there’s going to be a party tonight,” one of your girlfriends exclaimed. it was a lazy afternoon, and you were surrounded by the luxurious comforts of your backyard. a few of your friends were splashing around in the pool, their laughter mingling with the sound of water lapping against the tiles. others, like you, were stretched out on the sun loungers, basking in the warm sun. the air was filled with the scent of sunscreen and the distant aroma of blooming flowers.
“and it’s not just any party,” she continued, her eyes wide with excitement. “there will be older guys there! you know, past their teen years.” those words captured your interest, pulling your attention away from the magazine you were pretending to read. you lowered your sunglasses just a bit, the world tinted slightly less dark. your yellow bikini contrasted beautifully with your sun-kissed skin, making you look like a radiant summer icon.
“really?” you asked, propping yourself up on your elbows. your friend nodded enthusiastically, her smile as bright as the sun overhead. at that moment, a collective buzz of excitement spread among you all. you started squealing, chatting animatedly, voices overlapping. you were discussing the perfect outfits and how to make the most striking impression at the party.
and, wow, you definitely did. that evening, you decided on a daring little black dress, strapless and shimmering with countless sequins that caught the light with every step you took. it was the kind of dress that demanded attention, hugging your body in all the right places, emphasizing your curves. the neckline plunged just enough to be provocative, hinting at the possibility of revealing a bit more if you moved the wrong way. it was also undeniably short, so much so that if you bent over even slightly, there was the risk of revealing the delicate lace of your panties. as you slipped into a pair of sky-high heels, you knew you were ready to captivate the room.
the lights — pink, blue, and red — created a kaleidoscope of colors that blurred your vision as you danced with your friends. the pulsing beats of the music drove you, your hips swaying rhythmically, your hands gliding over your chest, and your head tilted back, lost in the moment.
“i’m going to get something to drink,” you shouted to your friends, your voice barely cutting through the pulsating music. making your way through the crowd, you arrived at the bar and leaned your elbows on the countertop, its cool surface contrasting with the warmth of your skin. your fingers drummed impatiently as your eyes roamed the room.
then, your eyes caught sight of someone who instantly commanded your attention. standing across the room was a guy — no, a man — who you clearly knew. it was rafe cameron, a well-known kook, and undeniably one of the most influential. you’d always found him irresistibly attractive. as you watched him, you couldn’t help but notice the way his white shirt was unbuttoned just enough to tease a glimpse of his sculpted chest, the fabric hugging his broad shoulders and lean torso perfectly.
his dark pants emphasized his athletic physique, fitting snugly yet elegantly. his face was a captivating blend of sharp and soft features — a strong jawline that, high cheekbones, and a pair of eyes that seemed to smolder with an intense, piercing gaze. his hair was casually tousled, a style that gave him an effortlessly cool demeanor. as he laughed at something one of his friends said, his lips curved into a smile that revealed a row of perfectly white teeth.
you found yourself licking your lips unconsciously, drawn to the scene before you. after receiving your drink from the bartender, you straightened up and began to walk toward him.
“hi!” you said with an innocent smile as you leaned casually against rafe’s well-defined bicep. tilting your head up, you met his gaze. rafe looked down at you, a playful smirk playing on his lips. “what’s up, kid? i think you’re too young to be here,” he teased, just loud enough to be heard over the music. his breath was warm against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. he chuckled, the sound deep and resonant, as he turned back to his friends.
your smile faltered, replaced by a pout. you pulled your arm away from his bicep. “i’m not a kid. i’m eighteen!” you protested, crossing your arms over your chest in a defensive gesture. rafe shrugged nonchalantly, his casual dismissal only fueling your indignation. “yeah, and i’m almost 23, so kid,” he said, his tone light and teasing as he waved you off dismissively.
your eyebrows knitted together. how dare he talk to you like that? you turned on your heels, clicking sharply against the floor as you made your way back to your friends. your face was flushed, a mix of embarrassment and annoyance coloring your cheeks.
but if rafe thought you had already given up, well, he was dead wrong. as he turned back around, he found himself staring into your doe eyes, which were locked onto him. you blinked slowly, your long lashes brushing against your cheeks as you bit your lower lip.
even as you danced, you made sure rafe noticed you. the music seemed to pulse through your veins, guiding the sway of your hips and the fluid movements of your body, drawing attention to the curve of your waist and the smooth line of your legs. your eyes would occasionally flicker in his direction, making sure he knew exactly who you were performing for. you ran your hands through your hair, letting it fall around your shoulders in a cascade, framing your face perfectly.
and he watched you, chuckling and shaking his head as he took in how desperate you seemed. each flicker of your eyelashes and every provocative movement only seemed to amuse him more. his amusement was evident in the way his eyes crinkled at the corners and the barely-contained smile that tugged at his lips.
and then, poof, he was gone. “he’s probably gone off to jerk off thinking about you,” one of your friends said with a playful nudge, and you couldn’t help but smirk at the joke.
but your life continued as usual: shopping, beach days, pool parties, and constant social outings. it was the routine of a spoiled kook who had been accustomed to such luxury since childhood.
yet, rafe occasionally slipped into your thoughts. sometimes you'd find your mind drifting back to that encounter. you couldn’t help but think about him, especially the way he dismissed you with that amused smile. you found yourself imagining what it would be like to get under his skin, to turn the tables and make him crave your attention. the fantasy of him needing you, added an intriguing layer to your otherwise glamorous life, turning a fleeting moment into an obsession you couldn’t quite shake.
but when your parents told you it was time to start working, it felt like your life shattered into a thousand pieces. the carefree days of endless leisure and indulgence seemed to vanish in an instant, replaced by the looming specter of responsibility.
“work? no, daddy, i can't work! come on!” you protested, jumping up from the couch where you’d been lounging, utterly shocked to hear such a word coming out of your father’s mouth. “sweetheart, you're getting older. you need to start. it’s nothing strenuous, you can handle it,” he said, his tone calm but firm, as if he’d anticipated your reaction.
you rolled your eyes dramatically, shaking your head in disbelief. “mommy, tell him something,” you pleaded, turning to your mother for support. her face softened, but her resolve matched your father’s. “sweetie, your father is right. it’s time for you to start doing something meaningful with your life.”
“ugh! this is so unfair!” you exclaimed, storming out of the living room, your frustration bubbling over. “serving food and drinks at the golf club, what a thrill!” you continued, your voice dripping with sarcasm, even as you were already halfway down the hall. the very idea of work felt like a massive disruption to the perfect world you had always known.
so, the next day, you arrived at the golf club grounds dressed in a crisp white polo top and a lace-trimmed skirt that fluttered lightly in the gentle breeze. you chewed your gum with an exaggerated pop, twirling a lock of your hair around your finger as your eyes were glued to your phone. leaning casually against the cart brimming with food and drinks, you barely noticed the lush green expanse of the golf course stretching out before you or the players attempting to perfect their swings. your thoughts were miles away, already in the comfort of your backyard pool.
“hey kid, can i get a bottle of water?” a voice broke through your reverie, jolting you back to the present. you sighed audibly, a trace of annoyance evident as you reluctantly tore your gaze from the phone screen and looked up. your eyes widened slightly when you recognized rafe cameron standing there, his tall frame outlined against the bright sun. he was dressed in casual golf attire: a pair of dark athletic shorts and a fitted polo shirt that hugged his frame. the shirt was a rich shade of blue that contrasted sharply with his tanned skin. he was watching you with a raised eyebrow, his golf club draped over his shoulder, a subtle challenge in his posture.
for a moment, you froze, the gum stalling in your mouth, your fingers still entwined in your hair. his presence was unexpected, and it took a beat for you to recover from the surprise. “well?” he prompted, his tone a mix of impatience and amusement.
you quickly straightened up, smoothing out the non-existent wrinkles on your skirt. “yes. yes, sorry.” you murmured, flustered, as you hurriedly moved behind the cart. your fingers fumbled slightly as you grabbed a bottle of water, the cool condensation a stark contrast to the warmth of your hand. as you handed it over, his long fingers brushed against yours ever so slightly, a fleeting touch that sent an unexpected shiver down your spine.
rafe took the bottle, a small smirk playing on his lips as he noticed your reaction. “thanks,” he said, his voice a low murmur that seemed to linger in the air. for a brief moment, your eyes met, and the world around you seemed to fade, leaving just the two of you standing there, the quiet tension palpable. then, as quickly as it had come, the moment passed, and he turned away, leaving you standing by the cart, your heart beating just a little faster than before.
and so it was that you began to love going there every morning. what had started as just a shitty job quickly turned into something else entirely. each day, your skirts grew shorter, the hemlines creeping higher to show off more of your legs, and sometimes, when you bent down just right, a glimpse of your panties would peek out. your tops became more revealing too, plunging necklines that barely contained your chest, with half-exposed cleavage and the faint outline of your nipples visible through the thin fabric.
you’d wear sunglasses, but they were never really meant to hide your eyes. instead, you’d let them slide down to the tip of your nose, giving you a perfect view of the course while still maintaining an air of disinterest. in your mouth, a lollipop, the bright candy swirling slowly between your lips as you licked it. you knew exactly what you were doing, and you were enjoying every minute of it.
rafe observed every little detail, his eyes catching the deliberate way you acted. he was well aware that every gesture was calculated to get his attention. the others noticed it too, their comments cutting through the atmosphere with lines like, “man, why don’t you just go for it?” he’d shake his head, trying to ignore their jabs, but inside he was a mess. you were younger than him, yet the way you acted around him seemed to defy that boundary.
each night, when he returned home, he would retreat to his room or the bathroom, closing the door firmly behind him. he would free his aching erection, his mind consumed by thoughts of you. he’d stroke himself, imagining you acting like a total slut just for him. he knew it was all wrong, utterly wrong, but the fantasy consumed him entirely. no one could ever discover the depths of his obsession, the way his desire twisted his thoughts.
and one day, he could no longer contain himself. after everyone else had left, only the two of you remained. he seized your arm with a firm grip, dragging you forcefully toward the locker room. “what the fuck!” you shouted in surprise, but he didn’t acknowledge your outburst. without a word, he yanked open the door of the nearest bathroom and shoved you against the wall, shutting the door behind him with a harsh click. his voice, a low and menacing whisper, cut through the tense silence as he muttered, “you little slut, you’re finally gonna get what you want.” his fingers fumbled with his pants and boxers, pulling them down in a swift, determined motion.
he moved your soaked panties to the side and slid his throbbing cock inside of you in one powerful motion. rafe lifted your legs, wrapping them around his hips, as one hand slipped underneath your thigh, providing support and the other encircled your neck. your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling and gripping as your body arched in pleasure. loud moans and gasps filled the little bathroom.
“you’re so tight— fuck.” his voice was ragged, filled with primal desire as he whispered in your ear, his words sending a jolt of anticipation through your body. the heat of his breath against your skin made you tremble, your senses heightening with each passing moment. your eyes closed in bliss, head falling back in surrender to the pleasure that consumed you. his hand gripped your chin. "you couldn't wait, could you? to be filled by my cock," he taunted, a smirk playing on his lips as he felt you nod eagerly, a silent affirmation of your longing. "i want words, kid," he demanded, his breath warm against your flushed skin. "yes, shit—yes," you moaned out, your body responding instinctively to his touch, your walls tightening around him.
"acting like a whore just f’me. cum, baby," he grunted. with each thrust, his cock was sliding in and your pussy with a quickened pace, creating a symphony of skin slapping against skin, the little space filled with the sound of it. your skirt was hiked up to your hips, fully exposed to him, while your hands gripped his shoulders tightly as you pulled at his shirt, overcome by the intensity of the moment.
with a guttural groan, he released himself inside you, his body tensing with the force of his release. you reached your orgasm too, your back arched in ecstasy as waves of pleasure washed over you. the air was thick with the scent of sex and sweat as you both rode the waves of climax together.
he lowered you, placing one hand on your hip as he noticed the trembling of your legs. his other hand gently caressed your cheek, streaked with mascara that had smudged from tears. "see you tomorrow, kid," he murmured, his voice rough and gravelly. then he turned and walked out of the bathroom, the door clicking softly behind him. left alone, you stood there, a faint, satisfied smile spreading across your lips, swollen and red.
you had finally gotten what you wanted.
454 notes · View notes
alexiroflife · 3 months
Text
"mesmorized"
choso is a simp, fluff
choso kamo x reader
Synopsis: choso has a staring problem
to sum it up: he's whipped with a captiable W
WC: 2842
Warning(s): itty bitty tiny bit of suggestive themes
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Choso has a problem. A problem he has harbored for quite some time and yet is not inclined to fix. 
And that problem would be his astonishing habit of staring at you. 
He doesn’t know himself if he’s so obvious about it because he feels shamelessly guilt-free when doing so or if he physically can not bring himself to tear his eyes away from you. Perhaps it’s a combination of both, he decides, his eyes catching you from the other side of the room with ease as he drowns in his thoughts. 
He recalls that this problem of his first started the moment he met you, his eyes doing a double take when he catches you walking by, an air of gentle confidence about you. His violet eyes, dull and tired moments before, seem to catch the rays of sunlight as his irises glimmer in the wake of your beauty, his heart skipping a beat or two in panic when Yuji calls out your name from beside him. Choso glances at his brother in swift alarm, curious as to how he knows you and suddenly rattled by the idea that you are heading his way.
When his eyes travel back over to relocate you, you’re stopping in your tracks, turning over your shoulder to find the owner of the voice that had called out to you, revealing a curious expression on your gorgeous face. 
Choso’s eyes grow wide as you walk over, a smile creeping onto your face when you see Yuji. The brunette himself doesn’t know what’s coming over him. He can’t look away though he wants to hide behind his hands, hide away from your brightness. His eyes glue themselves to you in an instant, deciding upon themselves that you are the only thing of true interest that keeps their gaze unwavering, unapologetic, curious, and open. 
You stop before the siblings, keeping your eyes on Yuji first, and Choso is thankful, for he does not want you to catch wind of his presence so quickly for fear that your attention may spring him into cardiac arrest. “Hey, Itadori.” Your voice is light and airy, soaked in benevolence and springful youth. “How’s it going?” you ask him, and you sound like you’re truly interested unlike those who pose the question out of polite obligation, neither seeking out or caring for a positive or negative response. 
Choso watches timidly as Itadori delves into a conversation with you, chatting brightly about how well his training has been going lately and filling you in on some new skills that he has acquired. The half-curse stares, observing how your eyes train on the pink-haired teen with engagement, head nodding occasionally and smile curling when you catch something Yuji says that inspires a reaction. You’re so attentive when you listen, allowing Yuji to know that he has your full focus though you don’t have to verbalize much to display so. Choso wonders how it must feel to be the center of focus under your gaze, mind slipping into a trance.
He doesn’t have to ponder the notion long, however, before Yuji is excitedly changing the subject and bringing your attention to him. “Oh! (Y/n), have you met my brother Choso?”
Choso can feel the blood drain from his face and his heart pang in that odd fashion again. He shifts, tensing when you turn and look at him. He’s horrified to imagine you noticing the way he has been blatantly staring, but when your (e/c) eyes encounter his, the world goes quiet and time stops.
Specs of light surround you through Choso’s vision, kissing your hair and skin regally as you look his way, sparks flying. You remind him of a star, shimmering brightly and numbing all other senses that come in your wake. You’re beautiful, breathtaking, and Choso’s losing air before he can think to speak. 
“I didn’t know you had a brother,” you say with pleasant surprise in your voice, eyes bouncing between Choso and Itadori to find a resemblance that certainly is not there. Nevertheless, you don’t seem to let that sway you as you turn back to flash Choso a pretty smile. “Nice to meet you, Choso,” you extend a hand. “I’m (Y/n).”
The brush of your hand into his vicinity sends a breeze shifting through the loose strands of Choso’s hair, eyes stuck to your face as though he is in awe. You’re patient, awaiting his response as he breaks his eyes away from you for a split moment to glance at your hand. Your nails are painted with clear polish and your small fingers are decked in gold rings. Your palm, your skin, looks soft to the touch, like the whisper of a cloud.
Choso can suddenly hear his heartbeat in his ears, looking back up at you carefully. Your smile only brightens, hand still offered out.
He musters up the courage to raise his own and clasp yours, wrapping his fingers gently over yours, connecting your hands. He feels electricity jolt up his arms from where you are joined and over his chest, down his back, up his neck, and trickling over the expanse of his body. Your touch, softer, sweeter, and somehow kinder than your eyes consumes him, and he’s floored, taken, done. His eyes are on yours again, locked in a stupor and he can’t look away. 
Choso was doomed the moment he saw you, his life turning upside down and the trajectory of his world spinning on its heels. He did not know someone could be so mesmerizing, so captivating without the tricks of cursed energy or any other supernatural form of manipulation. Instead, you are simply you, breathtaking upon glance, rushing the blood in his body to his face and making his heart pump loudly before he can control it. You’re always so nice to him though he often does not know what to say to you when you come around. You ensure that he’s included in conversations, included in the focus of your eyes, and he is a goner, captured completely by the whim of your interaction.
He can’t help but stare at you when he thinks you’re not looking, at all of you. His full eyes study the way your hair sits atop your head, how it brushes against the nape of your smooth neck, tickling your skin sometimes to the point where goosebumps spread over it. Your hair is such a pretty color, a pretty texture, pretty length, and it compliments you so well, enhancing the already remarkable frame of your facial structure and features. 
He likes to look at the curve of your brow when you talk too. Occasionally, it twitches when you're vexed, curling downward or pointing up to dent the middle of your forehead, emphasizing your stress or frustration or confusion. The skin around your brows crinkles, then smooths out slowly once you have calmed. Your lashes have a tendency to brush against your brow when they’re drawn down too, fluttering against each other with blinks or touching a scrunched cheek like the graze of a feather when you smile, and your smile is one of his favorite things to capture.
Your lips spread wide and the corners of your mouth pinch your cheeks upward, teeth bearing with all their beauty when you beam or laugh at a joke you hear. Sometimes your smile does not reach your eyes, but when it does, they’re shining with the brilliance of a comet, creasing until they’re almost closed as your nose wrinkles and your radiant laughter graces the air. Choso likes to watch as you tilt your head back in amusement, too hysterical to keep it sitting upright. 
His eyes then travel to your throat, stretched under your chin, smooth, slender. He imagines his lips shyly touching the flushed skin there, the pulse of your heart beating against his mouth, and he’s flushing violently, turning his head away and resting his chin in his hand with his palm shielding his mouth, but he can’t keep his eyes off of you too long. You’re too addicting, like a drug he can’t quit, a craving he can’t satiate, so he’s staring at you once more, glancing lazily over your collarbones peeking out from your shirt, the teased sight far more sensual than it truly is in actuality.
He does not even know where to begin when it comes to looking at your body, his eyes unsure of where to focus because all of you is just too perfect. You could be sitting across from him, scrolling through your phone, and his eyes devour the way your shoulders slump and your arms tense, fingers dancing over the keys of your screen as you type a text and send it. Or when you’re walking beside him with Yuji, the outline of your breasts rubbing against the fabric of your shirt, bouncing almost unnoticeably with each step you take. Choso, his height serving to his advantage, can happen to see down your shirt every now and then, depending on your choice of clothing for the day. With sharp eyes and pink cheeks, he’s glancing over you and landing a peep of your cleavage. He tries to force himself to look away in shame when he catches wind of the sight, but now that he’s aware of it, his eyes continuously wander.
Then there’s your stomach, which he catches a glimpse of all by accident one day. You’re playing football with the teens, leaping around and sprinting with impressive agility, clad in a loose white tank and shorts. Choso, not much of a fan of sports, sits on a bench at the park and watches you all play. You’re on offense, squatting with an intense look of concentration on your face in front of Yuta, who’s quick to toss you the football and set the next round into action. You catch it to your chest, rounding Yuji who runs to cut you off, but before you can run into the opposite direction, Todo is slamming into you seemingly from out of nowhere and knocking you off your feet.
Choso stands, worry flooding him immediately when you hit the ground, and Itadori’s calling a timeout, turning to ask the burly man who tackled you what the hell he’s doing. You’re lying on the grass on your back with a pout, pride wounded by the fact that you were taken out by a teenager. Choso prepares to march over and help you up when he sees that your shirt has lifted up, revealing your sweaty glimmery abdomen rising and falling heavily. The pale skinned man’s eyes twitches, freezing in his path. His mouth runs dry, pupils blown wide at the sight of your dewey bare skin. 
Yuta reaches down to pull you up in the next few seconds before Choso can make it, and you march over to Todo to punch him in his hardened arm, demanding to know just how old he truly is because you find it hard to believe that a high school withholds such aggressive strength and mass. Choso has to excuse himself to the bathroom to douse water over his burning face, the image of you laying there with your stomach exposed burned into his brain. 
Along with your abdomen are your hips, hugged tightly in that damn pair of sporty shorts you chose to wear, the curves of your legs emphasized by the fabric, and, jesus, your legs. How can he forget those? He was practically drooling over the sight of them for hours as you played, the jiggle of your thighs when you run, the flex of your quads, and the glisten of your plump flesh under the baking sun hypnotizing him…
Choso splashes his face again, water dripping from his chin and into the sink as an uncomfortable tightness in his pants stretches. He looks down to discover his print poking aggressively against his sweats, and he’s groaning in agitation, in arousal, in humiliation. You’re going to end him one day, he’s sure, for every piece of you that his eyes greedily consume is more perfect than the last, more enticing, more captivating. 
He is utterly smitten with you, with the vision of you. It’s the first thing he sees when he wakes up in the morning and the last thing that stays with him before he goes to sleep. He’s helplessly taken by you and so he stares, every day, all day, refusing to allow you out of his sight when you are nearby.
And the day you run into him alone, accidentally stepping into his path and catching his eyes, he stammers, so damn nervous to be around you yet dreading the thought of you out of touch. You look up at him intensely, (e/c) eyes swimming in his own, and it’s the first time he can’t keep his eyes steady. He’s looking everywhere, at the sky, the ground, his feet, before they can stay on yours. 
His heart is hammering in his ears again, his face a tomato, and his brows knitted as though he is troubled. You continue to look at him closely, an unreadable emotion in your eye that draws you forward, that motivates you to grab his face abruptly, palms holding his cheeks as you pull him down to press your lips to his.
Choso’s eyes go wide, hands shaking as they hover over your hands in shock, thrown completely by your sudden contact. You pull away just as quickly as you kiss him, cloudy, blown pupils boring into his to search for some sort of reaction. He’s looking at you now, as he always does, but only this time, he’s up close. His lips are parted as he processes what has just happened, cold due to the re-established distance from you. He’s breathing heavily, your proximity to him and touch on his face threatening to burn him with how hot he’s getting.
He can’t think, flustered, but then his body is moving before his mind and his hands are grabbing your waist, the very same waist he has spent months gawking at from afar. He feels your hips within his palms, his dream manifesting into reality, and pulls your lips back to his. 
He’s moaning softly when you kiss again, allowing you to take the lead as your sweltering lips swim intoxicatingly against his, your arms winding around his neck as you tug him into you, mouths molded in sloppy connection. Choso’s a mess, hands massaging all over every part of you he can find, bunching your shirt up into his hands then soothing his palms beneath the fabric, rubbing gratefully over the curves in your bare spine. You curl into him, tilting your head, breaking away momentarily to breathe heatedly against each other’s mouths before crashing back in, pressing deeper, grasping harder.
Choso’s messy, grunts of desperation sinking into your mouth as he kisses you, chases and savors the taste of you that he never believed he’d get to experience. He doesn’t know what he’s doing himself, but his body seems to understand as he steps you backward blindly and presses you harshly against the brick of the nearby build, smothering you with his weight as your fingers tangle into his hair. 
You bite gently at his bottom lip and he groans, your tongue slipping eagerly into his wet cavern and tangling against his, rubbing tenderly and intertwining as if your souls are meant to touch. Choso’s body is aching with desire, skin balmy and face scrunched with intensity as he sinks into you, feeling you, holding you, relishing in you. You’re everywhere, in his hair, against his chest, your scent on his skin, and you kiss him like you need him to breathe, a nasty clash of teeth and tongue and saliva mixing into each other. He didn’t realize you could feel like this, so hot and assertive in your attack on his mouth when you’ve always been so tame. 
He loves it. He loves it, he needs it. He needs you. He loves you.
When you pull away, he’s chasing you, your head knocking back against the brick and his half lidded eyes opening to reveal heavy violet hues. You look over his face, stroking the back of his neck as the two of you breath heavily against each other, noses brushing and spit glossing your lips. You break into a breathless grin, cheeks flushed and eyes heavy with passion. Choso can’t even think, for the only thing on his mind is the vision of you in his arms, the feeling of you against him, and he’s mesmerized.
You bring your hand to swipe a thumb over his bottom, red, kiss swollen lip. He gazes at you fondly, hands sliding up and down your sides. You giggle softly, eyes lighting with the same light he saw in you upon first encounter.
“I was hoping you had been staring at me so much for a reason,” you whisper with an exhale, eyes creasing with a beam.
895 notes · View notes
queenendless · 10 months
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❤️‍🩹Tough Love (Adult!SatoSugu x Adult!Fem!Reader)❤️‍🩹
A/N: This is a paid commission I wrote, requested by @anime-lover1234
Content warning: JJK AU with lots of angst, hurt/comfort, short injured teacher/sorcerer reader with lots of boo boos, overprotective!upset!SatoSugu hubbies yall.
Haibara alive in this AU, Nanako and Mimiko are first years here with Yuji Megumi and Nobara and they're your students too. Plus Gojo can heal others in this AU.
AND NEARLY 7K LONG SO THERE!
*Please DON'T plagarize, translate, or repost my FANFIC content. Reblog, like and follow instead.
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You wanted to impress them.
You wanted to prove your worth in battle.
But things went far off the deep end.
It all began that one sunset evening.
As a Grade 1 Jujutsu Sorcerer, you were a perfect match for the Grade 1 curse spirit lurking in the forest near an abandoned school rumored to be haunted after closing down due to allegations of murderous cover ups.
As you pulled down the Curtain, the cool winds blew at your hair, swaying along with your black attire, as the sun was setting for you exorcized the curse at last.
You were turning, ready to return to Haibara-kun who was waiting by the car parked out front, when you felt a stir in the air.
You sensed it further deep in the thicket.
Another cursed spirit.
Small … but on the highest level.
Curiosity and cockiness came in, seeping into your being, compulsively drawn towards your next – spontaneous – assignment.
It was a tall skinny humanoid one, blood painting its skin, eating one of the few mangled teen corpses strewn about the splattered wrecked tents of the makeshift campsite.
"Forgive me. I couldn't save you all." You muttered, cursed energy pulsing through your legs. “I'll avenge you by exorcizing that curse.”
Then you chanted quietly.
“Emerge from the darkness, blacker than darkness. Purify that which is impure."
With the barrier now placed; this one designed to keep curses in, you moved in.
With its eyes slowly turning to spot you bouncing off the branches, a swift blur dashing through the air, you warped right behind it, readying a blow right to its head.
But going toe to toe with a special grade cursed spirit on your own … you know it's not the same as it was before. But you were willing to take this golden opportunity.
Your fist blazing with cursed energy, ready to strike, even as —
The spike in its cursed energy went through the roof in that split second.
The atmosphere now pricked with that rotten flesh smog coming off its figure.
One that sprouted up to 10 ft tall.
Your cursed punch missed its mark.
Its sharpened hand going right into your side.
It was all a trap.
And you fell for it.
Hook line and sinker.
Your banshee cry startled the birds as you warped out of its grip, blood spraying out from the forced movement, skidding back on shaky limbs, its toxic touch seeping into your gash wound.
Flashes of white exploded in your mind.
The screams of your two mighty husband sorcerers were blowing out your eardrums.
Your vision was spotty but you felt the shift in its cursed presence spring forward through the air, barely dodging its swipe but feeling the tips of its claws scrape your stomach.
Deciding to draw it away, you became the injured bait, running for your life, warping out of its grab, ready to slam a kick down from above —
The sight of Satoru and Suguru bleeding and crumpled before you took its place. A twinge of fear stabbed your nerves — you were socked hard from the side, paralyzing your cranium, warping in your dazed state right before slamming into a tree.
Covering your ears in futility at the intrusive fake voices invading your eardrums, you squeezed your eyes over your unwillingness to see their gutted crimson painted selves.
"Don't leave us here!"
Toru.
"How could you leave us behind!?"
Sugu.
"It's not real. They're not here. They can hold their own. Even against bastards like you." You growled under your breath, keeping your eyes shut. "Don't see. Don't hear. Just feel."
Sniffing the air as cursed energy heightened your nostrils, you followed its putrid stench and nothing else. Trusting your sense of smell by amplifying it to near max — your limit.
Yet the debilitating toxins were slowing you down. You were getting lightheaded as blood trailed down your side and leg from that open wound. The punches and kicks you managed to land on it were barely making a dent on this creep.
This curse was sapping you of your strength, your swiftness, and your stability at an alarming rate. All you could do was dodge and weave. But didn't stop the onslaught of punches, kicks and slashes littering your body.
Those normal – now dead – teens were just fodder to it.
Now that you; a sorcerer, was in its domain, you became its toy. It would kill you. But first, it would take its time and play with you, prolonging its enjoyment as long as possible, wearing you down until you broke …
Down at the nearby rural town, outside a combini, a bespectacled man just stepped out, throwing away the wrappings of his just finished sandwich, turning to where the foul energies were resonating, seeing the barrier among the thicket of trees …
Curled into the ground, gashes, bruises and blood painted your now immobile body, keeping your head to the ground when you suddenly sensed a trusting presence slipping inside the veil, looming above you, followed by the anguished roars of the special grade collapsing.
"Don't let it hit you … its toxins can make you hallucinate … and can mimic voices." You rasped out the warnings, coughing out blood in the process, when his folded work jacket was pressed into your hands then against your crimson dripping side.
"Understood. Keep pressure on that wound. You've lost enough blood already." You choked out a sob of relief at that low rumbling voice.
Kento Nanami.
A fellow Grade 1 sorcerer. A dependable comrade and a close friend. One of incredible proficiency. Extremely precise aim. Evades with clever maneuvers. Reinforced body with cursed energy.
Tying his spotted tie around his fist, he went into Overtime. With his now stained clothed blunted sword in hand, Nanami struck in as many weak spots as he could create on that titan.
The red and black sparks of Black Flash streaking right off him to chop off its enormous arm.
His words were ringing in your ears as he revealed his hand intentionally to raise his power levels.
Slashing weak points in the surrounding pine trees, he follows it off with diving in to cleave off its legs by the knee.
Bringing it face down to ground level just to cleave its head in two horizontally.
Releasing both his binding vows to enact that single blow, Nanami's extension technique Collapse activated, causing those pine trees to come tumbling down to bury it for good measure.
Scooping you up at breakneck speed, you two got clear of the fallen debris, slipped through the decaying barrier.
Neither of you sensed it any more.
Nanami's eyes bore great disappointment down upon you from on high. "And here I thought you were better than to emulate those two's recklessness."
You felt your pride crack, your ego bruise, and your shame boosted over Nanami-san's disapproval when you felt yourself blacking out and your form became limp too quick for his liking.
Nanami's exasperated, panicking face getting all up in yours, his shouting going mute in your ringing ears, occurred before it all went dark.
❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹
Hastily calling Nitta-san to send the proper authorities to handle post cleanup in those woods, Nanami kept pressure on your wound in your stead as he situated you two carefully in the backseat as Haibara stepped on it; his wary eyes peeking in the rearview mirror now and then just so he wouldn't crash the car.
Watching in dismay as the only signs of you still alive was your little shifts of discomfort paired with frail mumbling, calling out for your loves, as fear worked its way to the front of your mind.
Hurriedly calling Shoko immediately after to meet them at the foothills of Mount Mushiro where the screeching halts of the car's tires skidded to an almost collision at the first torii gate.
The backseat was tainted red as Nanami tossed his stained business jacket aside then undid the buttons of your uniform jacket then tugged up your undershirt enough to show your biggest wound, allowing Shoko to lean over and work.
“What a way to spend my night." She huffed, concentrating as pure white light emanated off her hands and over your wound.
"She's lost a lot of blood already on top of fractured broken bones. And hallucinogenic, auditory ailments are still in effect even when curse has been exorcized." Nanami added, brooding from the added severity of the situation.
"What the hell, L/n?” Shoko heaved heavily, shedding sweat. "That curse's toxins are still in her system. It's making it difficult to fully heal her.” She was able to seal up your side wound though. “That will have to do for now. We need to move her."
"I'll join you all once I park the car." Haibara informed them, quickly leaning over from the driver's seat to kiss Nanami.
Nanami's tender gaze came Haibara's way before he got out of the car, carrying you, carefully treading up the steps, Shoko shutting the car door and hurrying behind him, with Haibara driving off and Nanami's bloody business jacket left discarded on the back seat.
Shoko spent the late night hours repairing your damaged self, collapsing over the metal surgical table from the overtime stress, panting from her energy spent. Blood pumped into a vein on your arm via the cannula connected to the drip. And your shallow breathing toppled with a cold sweat only made her push herself further as she squeezed your hand to keep you as grounded as possible and you continued murmuring the guys names in raspy, pleading whispers.
A harried Nanami patted Shoko's forehead with a clean spare rag lying on a counter while Haibara gave her a water bottle to hydrate.
Coming in and out of consciousness, tugged between horrish illusions and bleak reality, your once weakened pulse grew stronger as Shoko's RCT filled you, pushing the toxins out of your system.
So when you finally awoke, faded scars and bruises dotted your skin, front and back, leaving you groaning weakly as you clutched your pounding head. You felt like a truck had run you over.
"About time you woke up. Those fear toxins should be leaving your system now. But it did make healing you quite taxing for me. We can continue your checkup in the afternoon when we've both rested. But I could really use a drink right now.” Shoko apathetically griped as she carefully pulled the IV out of your arm just to place a cotton ball sticking to a bandage over the small leaking prick.
“Sorry about that, Shoko.” Feeling her gloved hand holding your still sore one, you barely squeezed back. "I failed to exorcize that special grade … I'm sorry I made you all overwork because of my screw-up." Your guilt stricken face struck their hearts.
"Nitta-san made sure the bodies were collected … what was left of them. Just count yourself fortunate that the curse was just dragging it out when I arrived. Never underestimate them." Nanami chastised you at the end, his goggles currently off, sternness laced in his eyes.
"Please … don't tell the guys. It's bad enough I couldn't exorcize it by myself. If they find out, they'll never let me live this down. Satoru especially." You weakly pleaded, struggling to sit up but able to get up on your bum as Haibara pulled you up.
"They'll find out sooner or later. And there'll be hell to pay if you choose to omit it from them. I will not partake in that sort of nonsense." Nanami griped, dreading the world flipped on its axis once your husbands found out.
"They'll never want to leave my side after this! They're already dealing with workloads of missions as is! Adding this to their pillars of stressful shit … I just need to be right as rain ASAP."
"No such thing as stress free in our line of work." Shoko bluntly stated.
"Gojo-san and Geto-san would be heartbroken if you kept this from them." Haibara frowned, personally wounded.
"They'd be even more wrecked that this happened and they weren't there to stop it …" Anxious guilt raked your bones.
A hand plopped into your hair, brushing it gingerly. “Your foolish pride as a sorcerer better be worth it if you're prepared for what will come of this endeavor." Nanami's foreboding didn't stop you from embracing him around his waist, pressing your face in his stomach, humming as Haibara gently hugged you from behind, and Shoko smiled nonetheless at the cute scene, especially at Nanami's sternness lessening and patting your head some more.
Still too out of it to walk on your own, you were pushed out in a wheelchair by Haibara, straight back to the dorms, stating he would stay in the room beside yours in case you needed any aid for the night, needing to head out in the morning alongside Nanami.
Carrying your ruined uniform clothes in the recyclable bag Shoko kept them in, you set them aside as you limped about to change into familiar comfier PJs you kept on hand in your old dorm room closet whenever you had to crash at the school grounds.
Pulling your phone out of the zip lock bag it was kept in thanks to Shoko too, you had seen it was still on.
They had been messaging you all night. Notifications of your group chat popping up on your lock screen.
But you just … felt too ashamed and embarrassed to reply back.
So you turned it off.
Without them smushing you between them tonight, there was no comforting warmth keeping you safe and sound.
And the aftermath of those horrific illusions and their copycats speaking during and post battle still lingered in your memory. Tittering between life and death, you were trapped within your worst nightmare yet.
Their disapproving glares.
Their cold voices.
Turning their backs on you as they walked into the foggy embrace of bloodshed against your voiceless cries and your wavering hand fruitlessly reached out into nothingness.
So going back to sleep was the last thing you wanted.
But even so, being in your old single dorm bed, your quiet sobs swarmed the room, your pent up agony painting your pillow in tears, stewing internally over wanting to suffer your follies alone versus wishing more than anything to have Toru and Sugu embracing you to chase all those bad dreams and fears away like they have always done.
Your phone stayed isolated on the small wooden bedside table, plugged in and charging. In silence.
Meanwhile, in a hotel, nestled in the Saitama prefecture that lies above Tokyo…
"Well, the twins are sleeping. Their mission definitely exhausted them both." Suguru softly informed, returning to his partner's side after checking on the girls in the room across from theirs.
A pouty Satoru groaned miserably, splayed out like a moody pancake across the bed, puppy eyes trained on his phone. "Suguru~! She's not answering me~!”
Now splayed out beside him on their shared hotel bed, Suguru ruffled Satoru's poofy hair. "Perhaps she's sleeping."
"She always answers me though! She didn't even send me a cute kitty gif~! The injustice!" Satoru cried, shoving his phone screen right in his best friend's face.
Suguru pushed Satoru's phone aside, pulled out his own from his sweatpants and sent a heart your way. And yet, it was not even read on your end. His forehead creased with worry. "No response for me either … I do hope nothing bad has happened.”
Satoru slung an arm around Suguru's neck, pulling himself snug against him, frowning vividly. "I miss her."
Suguru plopped his cheek atop Satoru's noggin. "So do I. The sooner we finish here with our own cases, the sooner we can have her in our arms again. Until then," Suguru brushed aside Satoru's snowy bangs to smooch his velvety forehead, tenderly grinning. "We'll just have to keep each other company~"
Now that piqued Satoru's intrigue, cheekily giggling as he rolled them over so the raven head could straddle him. “Nothing wrong with that~”
Suguru quickly turned the side table lamp off before engaging in a long, sensual make out with his smirking mate, whisking the night away.
❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹
Your new strategy going forward?
Keep your phone off.
Give off the illusion of still being out in the field, doing assignments far off in the distance.
Stay locked up in your old room except for Shoko's treatments and bathroom breaks.
Until you were all patched up; no visually alarming marks blemishing your skin, you wouldn't let any aside from those that already knew find out.
Not your students.
NOT your men.
By the time you had awoken, Haibara had already left as informed. His sticky note he left on your bedside table with morning greetings and hopes to see you soon followed by a scribbled smiley face did turn your frown upside down.
But it meant you were the only one left in the dorm as your throbbing self painstakingly grabbed some long sleeved apparel outta the closet and changed before putting on some slippers. It was fall now, slowly transitioning to winter, so it was the perfect cover up to be snugly dressed.
You had just gotten outside when you noticed the trio heading to the torii gate exit.
Yuji sniffing the air was what alerted you; skidding to a halt as he was literally across from you on the other side of the long stone pathway, turning to eye you with an unpleasant awkwardness. Running over, his nose dove in closer to get a deep long whiff of you to your jitteriness.
He was your best student in terms of enhancing his senses to their peak with cursed energy. And one you cherished like your own pride and joy. Your pure son.
“L/n-sensei … you're injured. And you look restless. Did something happen?” His eyes became glassy saucers.
Your game plan was on the rocks now. Super human senses at work!
“Hey! The sooner we finish our mission from that blindfolded madman, the sooner I can get to shopping! So move it! No offense, sensei!” Nobara snapped out loud, waiting by the gate, curious what was occurring but impatient to wrap things up for her own reasons.
“Cone on Itadori! We're burning daylight!” Megumi coaxed.
“Alright alright, I'm coming!” Yuji's voice then softened for just you two to hear. “Sensei, whatever’s going on, just … take it easy, okay?”
Your heart swelled at his considerate caring nature like the precious boy he is, smiling thankfully. “I will. Thanks.”
“Welcome back.” That genuine smile of relief and joy of Yuji's almost made you tear up; your swelling up heart touched by his words, doing your best to smile through the soreness as you waved at the boy, saluting back to you, joining his friends, and heading off.
You started uncomfortably limping on your way the moment you students were out of eyesight. Shoko met you halfway, presenting a new wheelchair for you to make traversing more easier. “Sorry but Nanami-kun wanted me to remind you to work on your report about last night. We can head to the faculty office first. Besides, you look ready to topple over.”
You internally groaned at the stingy procedures, expected to recount your near death experience down to the last detail; literally occurring just last night, sending a grateful look her way. “What would I do without you, Shoko?”
“Let's just say I'm better off with you in my life … and I know I'm not the only one.” Apathy gave way to relieving passion in her gaze that you looked away to brush your wet eyes. And you both left it at that as she wheeled you the rest of the way.
Flash forward to some time later …
“I can't believe you going gung ho back there cost me my chance to hit up that sale at my new favorite boutique, you boneheaded idiot!” Nobara bit out.
“Okay okay, I get it! Go easy on my shoulder, Kugisaki!” Yuji yelped in pain at how much she was fussing as she and Megumi helped him walk since he took the brunt of the hits in their latest mission.
“Always ready to put yourself on the line for us … we can handle ourselves, you know, doofus.” Megumi was less harsh, making sure not to hit his shin against Yuji's stabbed one; wrapped in the torn sleeve of Yuji's uniform to stop the bleeding.
Yuji noticed the tender gaze his spiky haired friend gave him, smiling in recognition, chuckling sheepishly. “Protective instincts, I guess.”
“Serves you right, idiot.” Though Nobara and Megumi spoke such mocking words, they were softly spoken, still irked but also grateful they're all still standing.
The moment the trio splurged through the morgue door, spotting your bare back littered with bumps and wide slash marks had them faltering as their short beloved teacher and practically mother figure was in this state.
“WHAT THE HELL?!”
Their unified exclaims startled Shoko enough to press too hard on a red welt on your forearm, causing your excruciating shout.
You slapped your palms over your mouth, mortified at legit blowing your cover out loud.
Due to the fact that Shoko at the moment got a sudden phone call while examining you.
From THEM.
“Shoko, what was that?” Suguru demanded.
“Sounds like a wounded animal!” Satoru exclaimed.
“Takes one to know one. I have work to get back to. Bye bye~” Shoko's false perky jab reverts back to her usual demeanor after hanging up on them. “I would say stay hidden until everything settles down but I'd be lying. I know 25 mins away means those two lunatics will floor it by the end of the day. I wish you the best of luck, my dear.” Her sympathetic pat on your shoulder did not calm down those anxious belly butterflies.
“I knew you were hurt but … OKASAN WHO DID THIS TO YOU!?” Yuji's own wounds were forgotten as he scrambled over to you, blubbering out waterfalls, throwing off everyone by legit calling you mom out loud but too overwhelmed to notice right away.
You pulled your shirt back down, flushed in shame. “Special grade got the upper hand on me. Nanami-san saved me. Sorry to have you three see me like this. So please … keep this between us? Please?” You literally prayed for it.
“For my favorite sensei, my lips are sealed.” Nobara assured.
“Geto-sensei may be less hysterical … Gojo-sensei not so much … but those two together … oh God.” Megumi paled up at the reality.
“The calm …” Nobara ominously started.
“Before the shit storm.” Megumi drearily ended.
“Uh, while I'm not a big fan of keeping things from Gojo-sensei, if it's what you want, then I'll do it.” Yuji, skeptical but willing to make you happy, blushed pink as you embraced him loosely due to you still not being at full strength yet.
“Thank you.” You weeped.
Megumi, Nobara and even Shoko joined in on that hug.
Meanwhile, back in Saitama, again, nestled outdoors in front of a patisserie.
“That was suss as hell.” Gojo lowly rumbled, sitting under the umbrella covered table on one end, stuffing his last – now smooshed – Maneki Usagi Manju from his hands straight to his mouth.
“We know that shout all too well …” Geto's eyes teemed with cynicism, sitting across from him, sipping Sayama tea in one hand, his phone in the other.
Their mentality synced, restlessness in their bones, their six senses flaring up with red alerts.
Something did happen to you.
Something big.
Something bad.
With their cases long since finished; not surprising, their leisure time was spent sightseeing, tasting the treats the places they visited had to offer. Meaning more sweets for Gojo to savor. However, his gut along with Geto's twisted at the thought of you in trouble.
“Girls, gather your things. We're heading back now.” Geto firmly spoke while speed dialing Ijichi-san to come pick them up.
The twins, sitting at the table beside theirs, stopped taking selfies of themselves with their cutely decorated drinks at his announcement. “Yes, Papa~!”
Throughout the ride back to the school; Ijichi-san fidgeting and sweating bullets at his seniors stewing in silence, panicked thoughts raced through the duo's minds.
The one constant that kept coming up?
Whatever was going on with you …
They were getting to the bottom of it.
❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹
The sky changed from blue and calm to orange and warm.
Getting healed by Shoko before being ushered out to continue healing you, the trio crashed in the common room slash longue when the sight of Nanako and Mimiko waving and smiling as they entered with bags of gifts and snacks to share and give had the trio beaming at the twins safe return.
However, the sight of their teachers coming round the corner into view, radiating such potent agitated auras, sent the trio's hearts racing in dread.
It spelled the first sign of doom.
Gojo zipped up right to them, a wide ass smile on his face, waving with bags of souvenirs on the other arm, cheerfully greeting them all.
“Oh my precious students~! Your esteemed adoring sensei has returned! And I come bearing gifts for you all! As thanks for a job well done! But on the condition that you answer me truthfully! Do you happen to know what our dear Y/n has been up to as of late~?”
“Nope.” Megumi kept a straight face.
“Nada.” Nobara is the same.
“We know nothing.” Yuji as well.
Their calm blunt responses had Geto narrow his eyes at their stoic behavior, the twins shuffling to him in nervousness at the tense situation, and Gojo's fake smile fell, becoming so straight faced. “Hmm … okay then. Hold these, please and thanks.”
Dropping their bagged gifts into their arms, Gojo warping away was the second sign.
Appearing again before them, with a squirming distressed you in his arms, was the final nail in the coffin.
Gojo hastily set you down, firmly grabbed your sweater sleeve covered hand, and tugged that sleeve up to your shoulder. Even with the blindfold on, you could picture his Six Eyes shrinking to dots at the colorful splotches and littering your once unblemished skin.
“What the hell?” Gojo's shaky raw voice had you gulping.
“How did … when did … Y/n explain yourself!” Geto's perturbed face turned to aggravation.
Keeping your head ducked, you could picture their eyes bearing those same cold, disappointing glazes those curse's nightmares forced you to bear. Your state of panic got triggered!
You wince in pain, trying in vain to tug your hand free of Gojo's iron hold. Warping into the morgue, literally sweeping you off your feet, greeting Shoko, then warping out of the morgue all meant your recovery got cut short.
"Hey! Where do you think you're going!?" Gojo jested, pulling your back against his front, caging you in his hold, knowing to restrain himself on the pressure, gritting his canines at seeing those same colorful marks on the back of your neck. “You better start talking.”
"You mustn't strain yourself any more, either! You can barely walk as is!" Geto irritatedly griped, wrapping his arms around your other one, leaving you wobbling, therefore needing either of them as counterbalance.
"I'll be fine! I'll get better! I'm innocent!" You babbled desperately, wiggling like a worm, to your utter dismay and their annoyance.
Geto narrowed his eyes, downtrodden. "Have you no shame, Y/n? And you three knew about this, didn't you?!” His eyes flared up with scorn as his face whipped to the trio, having all three flinch back at the irritated sight.
“And after all the trouble I went through to get you all gifts!” Gojo dramatically complained.
“Unnecessary to be honest.” Megumi dryly rebuttal.
“My tastes far exceed yours, anyway.” Nobara throwing shade.
“I'll take them all, thank you very much! I felt like telling you Gojo-sensei, I swear! But L/n-sensei was in pain and I just wanted to help her!” Yuji blabbed.
“Softie.” Mimiko and Nanako teased smugly.
“Yuji~!” Gojo weeped.
“I told them to keep quiet. Shoko and Haibara too. Nanami wanted no part in it. It was all my fault!”
Your pleas only riled them up more. Their eyes returned to you, burning intensely, straight into your soul as they cushioned you between their built bodies just like a mating press.
You gasped as Geto's hand slid under your top, his calloused touch sending anxious tingles through you, feeling that tender scar left on your side, lips trembling and eyes wavering. “Honestly believing you could pull the wool over our eyes, dearest? Ridiculous.” Geto belittled.
Gojo scoffed, suddenly frightening as he towered behind you, alarming everyone besides Geto as he pulled down his blindfold to stare down at you now with those glaring Six Eyes. "Screw that. This isn't panning out well for you, darling. Not at all.”
Your weak whines of protest made the teens cringe with pity. Your short self was literally trapped between giants. The atmosphere was so thick with tension that trying to cut it with a knife would mean getting obliterated. GoGe might as well be a bomb.
But to see tears swell up in your e/c eyes and trail down your cheeks, glistening from the guilt, embarrassment and pain, everyone in that room froze in paling realization.
You were the actual bomb.
And you just got set off.
"DON'T HATE ME!"
Your heartbroken scream had the strongest duo become the weakest. Their grips laxing, their tunnel vision eroding, their resolve dusting, as you pulled away freely, tugging your sleeve back down to cover the damage, sat down on the couch to your buckling knees relief, and cried in your tarnished hands, becoming a mess for them all to see.
"L/n-sensei no!!! Please don't cry!!!" Yuji went into a panicked frenzy, squatting down before you, frazzled as you bowed your head against his jacketed shoulder, rubbing your shoulders in an attempt to soothe you, sweating bullets at the sight of his once mighty teachers now becoming statues at this turn of events. "None of us hate you! It's okay! Everything's gonna be okay! R–Right guys?!”
"You two are the scum of the Earth, you are! Harassing an injured emotional woman!" Nobara yelled abhorrently in their stunned paled faces, pulling out tissues from her small flowered package she kept in her belt pack along with her cursed tools to offer you. “Here sensei. Take these.”
"I won't blame her if she files for divorce." Megumi gripes under his breath, sitting down beside you, timidly rubbing your back in comforting circles. "L/n-sensei, you need to calm down and rest."
“Geto-sama, do something about this! Mama is a wreck now!” Nanako was willing to put her foot down at this insolence.
“This is depressing.” Mimiko patted your head from behind the couch.
Your desperate need to melt into a puddle and just die from utter disgrace was dashed when you felt Gojo approaching.
His serious blazing eyes spoke for themselves to let him handle you himself, but those kids hesitated letting this slide when the gentle shushing of their usually obnoxious teacher threw them for a loop. Sitting down in the free space on your other side, gently brushing your hair, he leaned in to your ear to confess —
"I'm sorry." You stiffened at his words as they rumbled against your ear. While you were partly miffed and scared due to his attitude, his gentleness returning made you drawn to him all over again, recollecting how much you did miss him — miss them both actually cause OF COURSE YOU DO!!!
Weaving his hand through your hair, he carefully pulled your head to rest against his chest instead, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, a shaky vulnerability leaking into his voice. “I'm so sorry.” You dare set down your hands to see his eyes as glittery blue glass. "I shouldn't have snapped like that. I hate seeing you cry like this.” His wandering hand had his fingertips weave through yours to squeeze your hand benignly. “Especially when you're all banged up. I just …”
“I'm deeply sorry as well.” The moment Suguru sat down in Megumi's spot, the kids had already stood back and watched with anticipation as his arms gently hugged your waist from behind, kissing your blotchy cheek, regret radiating on his face. “We both shouldn't have approached you so harshly. We were out of line. We just …”
They were both at a loss for words.
Taking a chance, a risk, a leap of faith, you decide to tell them the truth, rather preferring for them to hear it from you than read it from a document.
“The other night … a special grade curse popped up just when I finished my case … I wanted to prove myself … I thought I could take it on … but Nanami saved me in the end. I was … ashamed … anxious … afraid. It showed me … illusions … nightmares … of you both suffering and abandoning me … and I panicked when you both got upset earlier … I just – !”
“You haven't properly rested at all.” Geto delicately gripped your chin and turned your face to see the dark circles under your now red eyes. “Beloved, you of all people should know that keeping your troubles bottled up inside does no one any good! Least of all hiding your pain from us when we can help!”
“You can't always be there for me … I can't keep weighing you down … but I can't hold my own when it really counts … I'm never gonna be at your level … even as a Grade 1 … by myself … I'm not good enough.” Your eyes squeezed shut, deep seated in this emotional turmoil.
“Yes you are!” The sharp conviction Satoru had made your eyes snap back open. It got your attention attentively. “We still think of them … Kuroi … Amanai … what we could have done differently or better … had we not failed them. If anything happened to you … and if we weren't there to stop it … and it already has … then what the hell’s the point in being the strongest when we can't protect those that matter to us the most?!” You shook as his tears hit your nose, rubbing his wet nose against yours with those beautiful blue eyes now red with compassion looking into yours, for even his watery smile is breathtaking. “You've never been weak. Not to any of us. You kept us together through all the shit thrown our way since that day. I don't need Six Eyes to tell me this truth … that you are the most beautiful, genuine, strongest soul I know you are inside and out.”
“You're the very reason I gathered the courage to reach out to everyone when my resolve wavered … when I lost my way … it's difficult to wear a heartfelt smile in this world …” Sugu's voice slipped for a moment, his almond eyes twinkling as his wet cheek nuzzled yours, pressing a timid kiss to the corner of your lips, another breathtaking smile amiss the waterfalls. “But you brought back my smile. You helped me find a better way … I'm no longer alone. So you don't get to be either. Not anymore.”
Unified, their cracked voices caved.
“We can't lose you too.”
You breathed in their natural scents, submerged in their warmth, coveted in their supportive treasuring embrace, their crying faces resting against either side of your neck, just to be as close to you as possible without hurting you more so than that curse and themselves already have.
In this moment of vulnerability, the strongest duo put down their guards just to show you how immensely you've always mattered to them. Your pain, your sadness, your doubts … they're theirs too.
Your hand that was still being held by Satoru weaved down to rub against Suguru's knuckles, drawing him in to lay his hand atop both yours. “I feel the same way.”
“But damn Y/n, you scared us shitless." Gojo sighed exasperated, now chewing and suckling hungrily on your red cheek just to hear your raspy squeals for their amusement.
"Immensely." Geto hummed conspiratory like, chewing and tugging on your other cheek for good measure, your squeaking making them smirk.
“I'm sorry!” You garbled out, mewling.
Suguru popped off your cheek, pecking it several times apologetically. “We're sorry too. We're just relieved that you're alive.”
Satoru popped off your cheek as well, smooching the welt left in his wake. “Still injured though, but I'll finish healing you myself.”
Catharsis finally came as your waterworks were one of relief. “I missed you both so much~!!!”
"Yosh, yosh~” Satoru doting on you, petting your head like the cutie you will always be in their eyes. “We missed our cutie patootie too~” Now that got you to smile at last, shedding tears of joy, as your chortled laughs made them smile as well.
The kids left you three a while ago when the mushiness kicked in. The twins giggled as Megumi summoned his wolf Shinigami for them to ride on so they could stop pestering him, right before he buried his bashfully blushing face in the crook of Yuji's neck who carried him and Nobara with ease from her own pestering, heading off to do whatever.
Now drained from the mental and emotional trip you went through, all you wanted now was sleep.
And to be honest?
So did the guys.
Your old dorm bed would make do just this once. For old times sake. Warping you three there was easier on an already wiped Gojo, anyway.
Their uniforms, boots, and socks along with your slippers littered the floor.
The AC hummed in the background.
And the drawls of moonlight slipped through the curtains.
Tepid flustered gasps left your parted lips as Satoru sensually trailed his smooth sly hand across every inch of your backside under your top, healing you from that point as you relaxed.
You smothered your face in Satoru's snug black tee covered pecs as he ran his fingers through your hair, languidly brushing it to further soothe you, pecking your forehead. “It wasn't the same without you.”
Suguru carefully splayed on top of you from behind, warmth seeping through his snug white tee and into your cloth covered back, heatedly breathing down your flushed nape as his veiny giant hand caressed your bare tummy underneath your top as well as stroking your thighs with his other hand. “Having you to cuddle again, all snug in between us, truly feels like heaven.”
“No angel to sleep with … oh how did we cope without you~?" Satoru ranted quietly as he could for your sleepy sake.
Suguru gave him a sly smirk. “Satoru~”
Satoru chuckled, ruffling Suguru's loosely free hair, before resting that hand on Suguru's lower back. “Okay, it wasn't bad at all. Even so… can I please just keep us in this moment and never let each other go ever again?” Satoru gently begged.
“As long as I can get some shut eye. And new uniform garbs.” Your cheek nuzzled his chest, consenting in a yawn.
“Deal.” With Six Eyes now switched off, Satoru became heavy-eyed at the sight of his two favorite people in bed with him. Back together again.
“No more bad thoughts for us tonight.” Suguru languorously rumbled in your ear.
“Plus those nightmares will get a kick in the balls if they come back.” Satoru grumbled drowsily.
“If it's a curse, sure. Dreams, not so much.” You mumbled softly.
Satoru could feel your body start to reach the end of its recovery from his healing touch, trailing his hand from your back to cover your hand that rested on the front of his shirt where his heart lay.
Suguru's own hand traversed, resting atop Satoru's, all three splayed on his chest in the same exact spot.
You sagged as you felt the weight of all that battle damage lift right off you, for all the pain got replaced with fuzzy tingling warmth.
Shivering with delight, you felt those two curling in on you from both sides, their legs tangling with yours, as you all smushed in the middle, with Suguru's face against your shoulder and Satoru's in your hair.
“Toru … Sugu … I love you guys.”
Satoru breathed in your scent, smiling drowsily. “We love you too … so damn much.”
"Truly. We'd be lost forever if we never knew you.” Suguru mused languidly.
A tiny smile formed as you succumbed to your long awaited dreamland. “I … feel … the same.”
And the kiddies, poking their heads through the crack in the slide doorway, eyed you snug between those two in just their tees and boxers, your entangled limbed cocoon, the bed comforter halfway touching the floor, as gentle snores and breathing made up your guys personal symphony.
Taking some snapshots for potential blackmail material; basically on Nobara and Megumi's part, they left you three to rest.
Of course, knowing you three, you'll stay in bed all day tomorrow. Whether to sleep, talk, cuddle, make out, do the devil's tango — nah it's all of the above! Meaning no classes.
The weekend is free.
To unwind and reflect.
Your old room feels more homely now that they're there with you.
That night, you’re gifted with cathartic, stress relieving dreams where those two awaited you with smothering embraces and enriching laughter.
Through their tough, imposing, and fierce exteriors …
There lay the true blessings that are their empathy, passion and humanity.
Your chaotically lovestruck sorcerers.
And you, their heaven sent wife, will feel their love till the very end.
And even beyond.
For Infinity.
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hana-no-seiiki · 11 months
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WHAT’S UP DANGER?
— [ CH 01 ] WITH GREAT ABILITY COMES GREAT ACCOUNTABILITY
pairings: yandere! various (batfam, spiderverse) x miles morales! reader
tw/cw: no yandere themes for this chapter, characters get aged up later on but are teens to young adults now, reader is gender neutral but characters refer to them with masculine terms (hijo, man, dude), spoilers for spiderverse movies. but ofc since this is a crossover it won’t be completely the same.
status: unedited
[masterlist] [next]
REPLY TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST
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“Mama, stop you’re covering me with your saliva—!” You groaned as you made a half-assed attempt at pushing your mother away.
It was the first day of your attendance at Gotham Visions and you weren’t the least bit nervous. Not at all. Totally. It wasn’t as if you were just thrusted into this situation with no choice whatsoever in addition to the pressure of your family’s wholeass livelihood on your shoulder. No. You were completely cool with this situation. In fact, you were so cool that you’re almost late to your first day of classes.
“But you look so adorable, mi hijo!” Your mother rubbed her face all over yours, messing up whatever you decided to put on.
“Papa what are you doing? Arrest this woman at once, for gross misconduct or whatever—“
“You do look adorable, and if I do I’d have to be fair and arrest you for vandalism.”
You freeze at your father’s not so subtle call out, before swiftly slithering away from your mother’s bear-like grip.
“Augh! I’m going to be late! Hasta luego!”
It was August. The start of a new school year for you. A new life away from your family and friends.
Gotham Visions University. A campus filled with elitists; fancy rich people. The cream of the crop. Your future school. Being a scholar there would have been fine, amazing even! If it wasn’t something you won through a lottery. You felt like a thief, an imposter. Going to a school for prodigies and rich kids as an average old joe is one thing, going to a school for prodigies and rich kid as a poor lottery student is another.
“[Y/N]! How you doing man? Lookin fancy. The uniform so fits ya.” A kid hangs his arm around you. If you were being completely honest you weren’t sure about his name, but you hung out often for basketball and other activities around the neighborhood. With the amount of people that knew you around the community, it was difficult keeping all those faces in your head so you often covered it up with nicknames.
“Psh. See ya next friday for shawarma?” You winked, cringing a little inside for your actions.
But to your utter surprise, the kid in turn blushes before giving you a massive grin. “You bet. My treat!”
And just a few seconds afterwards, he hits you at the back of the head before leaving, “Hey! Ow.”
“[Y/N]! Good luck on school dude! We’ll miss ya! Don’t be a stranger okay? We’re still friends even if he isn’t here.” He waves you goodbye before returning to your mutual posse of friends.
You wave back at them, your expression slowly turning into a solemn one. “I’ll miss ya guys too.”
Grabbing your trusty wireless headphones, you make your way down the block. Sticking random name-tags you drew this morning to distract yourself from the overflowing anxiety in your system.
Unfortunately, it never is a good idea to be so distracted when walking by yourself.
“Contra!” You hissed as your body hit the pavement. No doubt ruining your uniform that your mother painstakingly agonized over getting perfect and neat for your first day.
Then, the sound of a police siren entered your ears.
Can your day get any worse?
“What did I tell you about not looking both sides twice before crossing the streets?”
Your father’s sermon began.
This . . . was going to be a long ride.
“That I shouldn’t do it.” You replied, completely uninterested in the conversation and looking out from the window.
“You’re lucky it was me y’know! What if some deranged man decided to run you over?”
Your faced smooshed on your hand as your elbow rested on the window sill. “I’d send my cop of a father after them then.”
“Don’t act cute with me [Y/N].”
“But it works oh, so, well.”
Your father sighed, “It does.”
“But with great ability comes great accountability!
“Yeah yeah, that isn’t how the saying goes! . . . It was my bad it won’t happen ag…” Right as you were about to tune out of the interaction with your father once more you notice a bunch of people looking towards your direction.
People you knew.
And now they were taking pictures.
“Wow, aren’t you the popular kid?”
“Mier — Can’t you run the red light or shout at them or something? My poor privacy is being invaded!” You desperately tried to hide yourself with your hands but to no avail. The sounds of clicking only grow louder, and your father’s pace on the car slower.
“Yeah yeah~ not this cop.”
“Papa!”
Suddenly, the attention is ripped off of you as a loud crashing noise resounds from above. “Woah.”
Your dad flicked his tongue in annoyance as he checked the damages. “Those vigilantes! Red Hood is one thing, but that Spider-man partner of his. I swear. He just swings by without a care in the world. I just got this repaired last week!”
“I think he saved you from having to get yourself fixed as well. You know, in a hospital. The place with all the bills that just tears holes into your wallet.” You checked the situation outside, confirming the lack of interest in your situation as people crowded spider-man’s fight. “And myself from a mob too. That man’s a whole multitasker and a half.”
“If you ever get a sibling, remind me not to teach them cheek.”
“That if depends on you, yknow.” You gave your dad the smuggest grin you can muster.
Hey, if he’s going to make you face hell for the next few years you might as well give him a portion of it while you had the time.
The car halts, signaling your arrival at the aforementioned hell. “Study well. Our future depends on you, [Y/N]. Love ya.”
“I know.” You groaned, struggling a little to pull your baggage outside of the vehicle and leaving as soon as you got it secured within your grasp.
You are only able to take a few steps when your dad interrupts with the police car’s loudspeaker.
“Where’s my ‘I love you too, papa’ huh?”
“Papa! Seriously?” You screeched, unimaginably embarrassed beyond belief.
“I love you.”
“Right in front of my future peers?”
“I loovveee youuu.”
“On the first day of class?!”
“Mwah mwah—“
“I LOVE YOU TOO!” You relented. Making a sharp turn from facing the originator of your future bully’s material, towards the entrance of Gotham Visions.
Once you get in you make an attempt to greet the people there, but is cut off by their mocking voices referring and imitating the situation earlier.
The embarrassment fills you up once more and you fail to notice your path intersecting with another.
Directly bumping into people seriously knocks the wind out of a dude. That’s probably why those people in those ‘mangas’ he always made you read fell in love at first sight. They were just so light-headed that they couldn’t think clearly.
“P-pretty girl—“
“It’s nice to meet you too.” said pretty girl as she steadied your form. Noticeably less affected by the impact “You’re quite the looker yourself.”
“Ack, sorry! I just get nervous around- yeah.”
She giggled. Oh lord, even her laugh was pretty. “Lovely papa you got there.”
“Augh, you don’t have to remind me.” You pinched the bridge of your nose, slowly regaining your balance.
The bell rings. The real hell has officially begun.
Once pretty girl made sure you were alright, she began running off.
Wow, even the way she ran was pretty.
“W-w-wait, what’s your name?”
“Gwen!”
You sighed as left you behind in the crowd of students.
This wasn’t so bad, you thought. You made one acquaintance at the very least. Maybe your new life at this school would be better.
Your new life at Gotham Visions was, in fact, not getting better.
You were fumbling through the motions like a newborn thrown to the wolves. If you hadn’t built a relatively tight knit friendship with Gwen you were sure you would have ran away by now.
Everyone always ignored you when you greeted them. Your dormmate didn’t even see you as someone worthy to interact with and would often stay awake at ungodly hours doing whatever the hell he was doing on his laptop while you suffered from his ‘background music.’ Your parents only ever talked to you about academics when it was the last thing you wanted on your mind at weekends. You were always, always late to class.
You were practically falling apart at the seams.
You just . . . wanted everything to end. But you couldn’t bring yourself to defy your parents and so you brought it up to your studies. Purposely failing exams so you’d be kicked out soon enough.
“A zero. How terrible. A few more of those and you’ll have to kick me out huh?” You looked at your Physics teacher with a loosely smug look on your face. You hated Physics, the sciences and mathematics the most out of all subjects. Everything second you spent learning about it could have been spent drawing or doing something you actually adored.
You shrugged, “Maybe I’m just not right for this school.”
“If a person wearing a blindfold picked the answers on a multiple choice exam at random do you know what score they would get?”
“. . . Around 25%?”
“That’s right!” She flicked her pen towards you face before pressing the butt end of it to your paper.
“The only way they would get all the answers wrong . . . “ She then twirls around, marking your grade from 0 to 100 by placing the respective numbers to each side. “Is to know which answers are right.
“You’re trying to quit, and I’m not going to let you.” The smug look only your face slowly dissipates and transfers to her own visage. “Now I know you’ll probably try to worm yourself out of this which is why I’m calling in back-up.”
“Wayne.” The woman moved her gaze to your classmate. A strained smile on her lips as she stared him down.
You didn’t know the billionaire’s son that well, or any of your peers but Gwen for that matter. Just that he was as stuck up as his gelled up hair. Always sneering at you whenever you had to sit beside him with those uncannily pretty green eyes of his. You thought that it may have been your smell or something. Maybe he could tell how poor you are in comparison by your scent. But judging by the fact that he was just as much of a loner as you were if not more, you’re beginning to think otherwise.
“I’m assigning you two an essay, not on physics but on yourselves. What kind of person you want to be. I know you two are quite different in terms of personality and backgrounds, but I have a feeling it’ll all work out.” She walked behind the two of you, roughly placing her hands on both of your shoulders before squeezing you closer together. “And no, Damian. I’ll know if you decide to finish it all yourself. Don’t test me.”
“You two are dismissed!”
Damian takes one look at you and you can tell he’s listed a thousand things he disliked about you already. He re-secured his backpack prior to giving you one, heftily stern warning. “Listen, we’re going to meet at my house this weekend. 6pm. Don’t be late.”
“Sure! Where’s your . . .” and before you could even complete your question, he was gone. Just like that. “. . .house. . .”
You grabbed your own belongings with a moan; betting that the trust fund kid’s own probably costed a hundred if not a thousand more times than yours.
You swiftly go to your room. Mind completely empty and disassociated before an idea crosses your head.
You dial in the numbers on your phone before you could even think properly.
“Hey, Unc. Mind if I come over?”
No matter where you went. The route to your Uncle Aaron’s house was always in the back of your head. He was your true home. The only man who understood you — who made the effort to understand you.
You spot him on his couch, looking as cool and swag as ever with his legs spread a little bit apart. He laughed as you smooshed your face to his window before opening it and letting you tumble into his abode.
You lazily dropped the bag you brought filled with spray paint.
He patted your head and massaged your scalp, the stress you felt already noticed and acknowledged. “Sup little dude. You lookin’ down. Is this about . . .”
“What? No. I’ve already moved on—“You shook your head. In all honesty, the only good part about Gotham Visions was that it kept you distracted from grief. But before you could continue you spot a familiar image settled in a frame. Emotions started crashing down upon you like a tidal wave. “You . . . kept the picture.”
Aaron rubbed his thumb across your cheek as your eyes began watering, “You know I can bring you over to visit him. It’s pretty close by y’know.”
“I- I think I’m good. I came here to just chill out, y’know?”
“Let’s go, I know a spot we can let some of that pent up art juice out.”
A smile. A real one. Not one you forced on yourself whenever you met with your classmates, Gwen or your parents started to make a reprise on your face. You almost don’t remember the last time you did it because of your emotions and not due of the façade of being okay.
“See ya.”
You take one last look at the photo before rushing out with your uncle.
“Mig.”
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chaotic-toasters · 3 months
Text
Tunnel Vision
Arsenal Women x Teen! Reader
Thanks to @scribblesofagoonerr for helping me on this every time I got stuck (I got stuck a lot 💀)
TW: Graphic descriptions of injury and blood, allusion to a panic attack
----------------------
"Hi, Foxy!" you chirped, hugging the older American from behind. "Are you ready to kick Aston Villa's butt?"
"Hey, kid," she smiled fondly, squeezing you tightly. "I'm always ready. That reminds me, are you all packed for US camp next week?"
"Yeah," you responded with a grin. "I'm excited to see everybody."
Emily released you, ruffling your hair as everyone began lining up in the tunnel. "They're all excited to see you too, but let's focus on the match right now."
"Okay, Foxy." Just before you slipped into your match mindset, somebody else tapped you on the shoulder.
"Oi," the new voice whispered. "No hello for your old roommate?"
"Jordan!" you beamed, tackling the older girl in a hug. "I missed you!"
The Brit's smile was blinding. "I've missed you too, kid. We'll talk more after the game, okay?"
You nodded, hugging her again before stepping into line behind Frida. It was always nice seeing old teammates, but you had no problem beating them in matches.
-
With the score at 4-1 in favor of Arsenal, the gunners should have been having a great time. For some reason, though, your teammates wanted more. They were hungry for a bigger gap in the scoresheet, and it was messing with some of their heads. Steph was pushed up even farther than usual, Leah's tackles were unreasonably harsh, and Stina's shots were so powerful, it was almost like she was angry. The most noticeable change in behavior, though, was Alessia's.
The Englishwoman's challenges and touches to other players were far more fierce than they should have been, and some of the Aston Villa players were making a conscious effort to stay away from her.
You, on the other hand, didn't think the forward's aggression applied to you. That was why you didn't blink twice when Alessia sprinted towards you in the box, trying to open herself up for a pass.
It was unfortunate, to say the least. Most of the players on the field were crowded into the 18-yard box, so when Alessia accidentally slammed into your side, none of the players or officials saw it. Alessia herself didn't even notice, too focused on the ball and too high on adrenaline to feel just how hard she'd hit someone.
Play continued on as you went flying headfirst into the advertising boards, colliding with the signs with a sickening crunch, players too busy yelling and trying to push each other out of the way to hear or see. Not that you could tell. To you, the world was completely devoid of sound. The nearly sold-out Emirates Stadium was silent and dark, things around you terribly blurry and dim. You tried to pull yourself to your feet, but your hand merely shook on your chest as blood started creeping down your forehead. It was strange, you thought, how you could be bleeding like this, but not feel any pain. While debating whether it was a good or bad thing, you passed out.
-
It was Beth's scream of terror that caused play to die down. She'd taken up space on the wing, looking for a pass, but when she glanced up at the goal, her eyes instead zeroed in on your limp form laying in the broken pieces of the advertising board. The Englishwoman's guttural cry of fear had rung out over the roar of the crowd and instantly caught the attention of everyone on the field, and they'd all followed her gaze only to be met with the sight of you, a curtain of crimson slowly oozing down to your cheeks.
"What- what happened?" Emily's voice was weirdly high-pitched as Lotte tried to lead her away. "She- she was fine just a minute ago!"
"Don't look," the Lioness murmured, gently guiding the other defender away by the shoulders. "You'll just worry yourself more if you look."
But she couldn't. Your only American teammate at Arsenal couldn't help but stare as paramedics ran onto the field, surrounding you, talking quietly but quickly amongst themselves. She wanted to look away, she really did, but fear gripped at not only her heart, but her head. It forced her to watch on, to watch as you suffered and didn't respond to the paramedics. The fear was stronger than anything she'd ever felt before, and she was certain that it would be the strongest thing she would ever feel.
-
The gunners were evenly split. Half couldn't tear their eyes away from where the paramedics were lifting you onto a stretcher, and the other half were trying to get their shock-ridden teammates to look elsewhere.
Most of the players apart of the second half were successful in getting the others to direct their attention away from you, but there was one player who was stood inside the box, firmly rooted onto the pitch where she'd stood when the whistle was blown sharply.
Alessia. She'd realized what had happened as soon as she saw you. She may have only felt herself collide with you subconsciously, but she could still remember it. She could remember sprinting as fast as she could, tunnel-visioned on the ball but hitting you in the process, and it was as if she'd been tased with the terrible realization of it all.
She had been the one to push you. She had been the one to send you flying into the advertising boards. She had been the one to cause whatever horrific injury you had just sustained.
She'd been so focused on the game that she'd sent one of the sweetest and most innocent people on the team to A&E.
And for it to be you? You were only sixteen. You were always so happy and and positive, and now you were in bad condition because Alessia was too busy being greedy and wasn't paying attention to anything other than scoring.
As the paramedics carried you away on a stretcher, Alessia's legs gave out beneath her. Her breathing was rapid, guilt taking over every fiber of her being as she gripped at the grass beneath her. Some of her England teammates crouched next to her, speaking quietly, but she was too spaced out to notice.
What was supposed to be a simple match day had turned into a horror show. And there was no one to blame but her.
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mrsstruggle · 3 months
Text
The Beast of War - Prologue // Teen Wolf x Marvel AU
This is the second part of the Shadow Wolf Series. Read The Lost Child First if you haven't!
Series Summary: In the aftermath of discovering her true identity and reuniting with her long-lost family, Y/N Stilinski finds herself adjusting to a new chapter of her life in Beacon Hills. With her brother and his friends in their senior year at High School, the town faces a fresh new threat. Y/N must navigate the complexities of her new life while confronting the looming threat that threatens to hurt her and the people she loves.
Warnings: Language, Mentions of Death/Injury/Grief/Torture, Possible Grammar Mistakes (please let me know if there is anything else)
Series Pairings: Derek Hale x Reader, Stiles Stilinski x Malia Tate (for now), Steve Rodgers x Bucky Barnes, Bruce Banner x Natasha Romanoff, Vision x Wanda Maximoff
Words: 2.6k (This is short but the chapters will be longer)
Note: This is Part 2 of the Shadow Wolf series! This happens in the time span before the epilogue in The Lost Child. This will loosely follow season 5 (and possibly the beginning of 6) of Teen Wolf.
Additional Note: While this is a Teen Wolf x Marvel AU, not everything is true to the shows/movies/comics. I had to change things for the story.
One Last Note: Y/N was adopted by Tony Stark and Pepper Potts. I did this so more people can see themselves in this story.
***I do not own Teen Wolf or Marvel or any related characters. This is a work of fanfiction and is meant for entertainment purposes only.***
Masterlist
The Beast of War Masterlist
The Lost Child Masterlist
Next Chapter
---
Y/N hums to herself as she mixes the ingredients for Stiles’ favorite pancakes in a glass bowl on the kitchen counter. He slept over at her and Derek’s loft since their dad had to work an overnight shift at the station. She hasn’t seen much of Stiles since everything that went down with Hydra, the hunters, and the Avengers. With getting kidnapped and outed as the dead Stark child to the world, she had a lot of shifts to make up for at the hospital. Today is the first morning she doesn’t have to be in at 5 AM, so she plans to make the best of it and catch up with her little brother.
Letting go of the whisk and bowl, she grabs the tongs next to the stove and flips over the bacon she has sizzling in a pan. Y/N is so engrossed in what she’s doing that she doesn’t hear Derek sneak up behind.
“Holy shit,” Y/N jumps as Derek wraps his arms around her from behind.
Derek lets out a low chuckle, “For a werewolf, you have terrible hearing.”
Y/N rolls her eyes at him, “I was clearly distracted.”
“I’d be happy to distract you some more.”
“Or you could set the table?”
“I can do that too.” Derek presses a kiss into her hair before letting go of her. He notices that she has three different pans on the stove cooking bacon, eggs, and hashbrowns. “What’s with the big breakfast?”
“It’s Stiles’ first day of senior year, and I feel bad that I haven’t seen him that much since everything that’s happened this summer,” Y/N says, pouring some of the pancake batter onto the griddle she has set up on the counter.
“He slept here for almost two weeks.”
“Yeah, but that’s because he was scared that he was going to lose me. Not that he’d ever admit that.” She says the last part under her breath, but Derek is still able to hear it. “We haven’t had time to catch up lately.” Y/N turns to look at Derek and loses her train of thought when she sees him. He’s shirtless and his blue plaid pajama pants are hanging dangerously low on his hips.
Derek pauses setting out the silverware as he feels her eyes on him. Looking up, he smirks at her eyeing him up and down. He’s about to tease her when she hisses in pain and jumps away from the stove.
Y/N rubs at her arm where she accidentally touched it to the hot pan on the front burner of the stove. She was so distracted by Derek that she wasn’t paying attention to what she was doing.
“I blame you for that,” Y/N mumbles, pouting at Derek as he walks over to her.
“I’m sorry,” Derek presses a quick kiss to her lips before grabbing her arm and pressing a kiss to where her arm touched the pan. There was luckily no burn on her. She either didn’t touch the pan long enough, or it had already healed by the time he got to her.
Y/N thanks him and kisses him on the cheek before turning back to the food before it burns. She continues to hum the tune to the song stuck in her head as she finishes cooking breakfast. She hears Stiles come down the loft’s stairs as she scoops the scrambled eggs into a bowl for the table.
“It’s too early,” Stiles whines, plopping down in a chair at the kitchen table.
“It wouldn’t be too early if you didn’t stay up almost all night last night.” Derek rolls his eyes at Stiles.
“How do you know that I stayed up last night?”
“Because thanks to werewolf hearing, we can hear you typing and scribbling all night,” Y/N replies, setting down the eggs and bacon in the middle of the table. “What were you doing anyways?”
“Research.”
“For what?”
“Another werewolf showed up at the school at Senior Scribe. Well, technically two werewolves showed up, but I’m only talking about one of them. He claims to be Theo.” Stiles says with disdain in his voice as he shovels food onto his plate.
“Should I know who that is?” Y/N asks, setting down a plate of pancakes and sitting down in the chair between Stiles and Derek.
“He used to go to school with me and Scott. His sister, Tara, was found dead in a creek before him and his family moved.”
“Oh yeah,” Y/N says in realization, “I know who you’re talking about. Why was he at the school? And what do you mean two werewolves showed up?”
“Some guy showed up and tried to kill Scott a—”
“What?” Derek stops cutting up the pancake on his plate and looks up at Stiles with a slightly angry look on his face.
“He was talking about taking his power and shit. His claws, which were glowing by the way, were in Scott when Scott broke his arm and some of his claws and told him to leave, or he’d break more of his bones. The guy left after that.” Stiles shrugs before shoveling some food into his mouth.
“He just left?” Y/N questions doubtfully.
“Yeah,” Stiles says with his mouth full of food.
Y/N turns her head to look at Derek. She can see he’s thinking the same thing she is. There’s no way a guy tried to kill Scott and then just left when he was unsuccessful. He’s probably hiding out somewhere in Beacon Hills until he heals and then will strike again later. She doesn’t love it, but she sometimes wishes they would stop being so gracious with people’s lives. It seems to cause more trouble than killing them. As seen as what happened with Gerard and Kate.
“How does Theo fit into this story?” Y/N asks.
“He tried to stop the guy that tried to kill Scott.”
“And that’s why you’re researching him?” Derek questions, unsure how that warrants Stiles doing a deep dive on him.
“No,” Stiles huffs in frustration, “It’s because he’s different.”
“Wasn’t the last time you saw him in fourth grade or something like that? People tend to change as they get older.” Y/N says, confused about what Stiles is trying to say.
“There’s just something off about him. Scott doesn’t believe me, but I can feel it in my gut that something is not right about him.” Stiles looks at Y/N with a pleading look, begging her to believe him. Scott thinks he’s paranoid and that he needs to give Theo the benefit of the doubt, but Stiles knows he’s right. Malia also doesn’t understand why he’s suspicious of him.
“If you say there’s something off about him, then I believe you.” She almost asks if she should ask Tony or Bruce to look into Theo, but she thinks that would make Stiles more upset. It’s not that he doesn’t like them, but she doesn’t want it to come off as she thinks he won’t do a good enough job.
It’s been almost three months since she found out she is a Stark. Stiles was insecure about it in the beginning, as was their dad, but they slowly got over their fears as Y/N not only tells them but shows them that she isn’t going anywhere, and they will always be her family. Even though it’s not as prominent anymore, those insecurities are still there.
“Other than this Theo guy, what else is new? How are you and Malia?” Y/N asks, changing the subject.
“We’re good. She got her email that she doesn’t have to repeat junior year. We’re still looking for the Desert Wolf.” Stiles says.
“That’s good.”
“What about you two? What have you been up to?”
“Well, there’s still people pretending to be sick or hurt to meet the long-lost Stark, so not much has changed.” Y/N rolls her eyes thinking about the number of people who show up and disrupt her from helping actual patients just so they can meet her. A few reporters even try to interview her while pretending they need help. Luckily no one has purposefully injured themselves to try and meet her. This has been going on since she went back to work the day after her big press conference.
She’s just happy that nothing about her, Scott, or the others has been exposed. She tries not to think what would happen if the truth about Beacon Hills got out. She can handle people at the grocery store staring at her for being a Stark, but she’s not sure she can handle them looking at her in fear for being a monster.
“Still?”
“People are still showing up at the garage too. There’s not as many as there used to be, but several still love to show up.” Derek says. He wants to complain about it, but all the extra money he’s making is going toward remodeling the Hale house. He will complain about them taking pictures of him though. They think he can’t see when they do it, but he notices when they secretly take pictures of him. He assumes they post them on the internet, but he stays as far away from that as possible.
“Oh, tell him about what happened with those bikes someone left in front of the garage,” Y/N beams at him, proud of what he did with the four motorcycles that were abandoned at the garage. He spent several weeks fixing them up in his free time and even customized them to make them a bit cooler. She will never forget the massive grin on his face when he showed her the first one he finished.
Derek shrugs his shoulders, “I fixed them up and sold them.”
Y/N rolls her eyes at his modesty, “He sold them at some show in San Francisco, and they sold for over $25,000 each. He’s already gotten a few emails from people asking him to customize their rides.”
“Really?” Stiles asks with a shocked look on his face.
Derek tries not to blush at Y/N’s praise, “I probably could’ve sold them for more, but I didn’t think anyone would buy one. I’m currently interviewing for a new mechanic to take some of my work because we’ve got some more bikes coming in from people who have emailed me.”
“Speaking of the garage, when are finally going to bring Roscoe in?” Y/N asks Stiles.
“The jeep is fine and doesn’t need to be brought in.” Stiles crosses his arms in defiance.
“It has more duct tape than I did when I was making duct tape wallets in sixth grade—and I had a bucket full of duct tape.”
Stiles rolls his eyes at her, “What else has been going on? You know it’s not going to hurt me if you talk about the others.” ‘The others’ being her other family.
“Um, well, they are currently back at their compound and will be back tomorrow. I’ve been told they’ve each found places they are going to rent until the new Avengers compound is built.” After a few conversations among themselves, the Avengers decided to move closer to Y/N. She made it clear that she has no intention of moving out of Beacon Hills anytime soon.
The new Avengers compound started building two weeks after the fight against the hunters. Even though they still have the lake house, they decided it would be best to get their own separate places until it was finished. Y/N even went with each of them to look at places to rent. She also made Derek promise to lie to them and tell them there were no available units in their apartment building. She likes them, and she enjoys getting to know them, but living in the same building with any of them would be too much for her.
“Tony and Peter still bring me lunch at least once a week.” Y/N continues, shrugging her shoulders in nonchalance. “Steve and Bucky have even brought me food on some of the days I’ve worked for almost twenty-four hours.” She hasn’t had much time to spend with them with how much she’s been working. She feels like she’s barely seen Derek with how much she’s been working.
“What do you talk about with them?” Stiles asks.
“I mostly just talk about work or Derek, or we laugh at the wildly inaccurate articles people write about me. If they ask, I explain more of the supernatural to them, but even I don’t know everything. We mostly just avoid talking about Pepper, Hydra, the hunters, or anything that happened after Hydra kidnapped me and Peter.”
Conversations with any of the Avengers revolve around telling each other about their days with awkward silences in between. She thinks it’s because they see her as family while she sees them as strangers. She can see this look in their eyes like they expect something from her, but she can’t give them what they’re looking for.
“You talk about Derek but not about me?”
“I talk about you too, but I have a hot boyfriend, and I like to brag about him.” Y/N sends Derek a flirty wink while Stiles groans in disgust.
Stiles stands up and brings his dirty plate to the sink, “I should go. I promised to pick Malia up to take her to school.”
“Okay, are you still coming over for dinner tonight?” Y/N scheduled a little family dinner and invited Stiles, their dad, Tony, and Peter. She knows them all separately, but she wants them to all get to know each other as well.
“Yeah, I’ll be there!” Stiles yells out, running up the stairs to grab his stuff.
“Okay, well have fun on your first day of school!” Y/N yells back, watching as Stiles stumbles back down the stairs. “Wait!” She shoots up from her chair and grabs her phone from the kitchen counter, running to catch Stiles before he leaves.
“What?” Stiles groans, his hand resting on the loft’s door handle.
“Smile,” Y/N grins, snapping a few pictures of him. “Don’t roll your eyes at me. You know this is tradition, and I need to send one to Dad—so smile.”
Derek leans against the pillar in their living room, a small smile on his face as he watches Stiles force a smile on his face as Y/N continues to take pictures. “Do you want me to take a picture of both of you?”
Stiles glares at him as Y/N happily hands him her phone. She walks up the few steps up to Stiles and wraps her arms around him in a crushing hug. Derek smiles at Stiles’ embarrassment and takes a few pictures of them.
“I hate you both.” Stiles pushes Y/N off him, pulls open to door, and walks out of the loft.
“Love you too!” Y/N calls after him.
“Should we be worried about this Theo guy?” Derek asks as Y/N shuts the loft door.
“If Stiles says there’s something off about him, then I’m going to believe him unless proven otherwise.” Y/N walks down to Derek and wraps her arms around his waist. He moves his arms around her and pulls her into his chest. “What if we just stayed like this forever?”
“I have no complaints, but I think your job would.”
“I’ll quit.”
“If you say so,” Derek presses a kiss to the side of her head.
“I hope this year they’ll be able to get through school without almost dying several times. Hell, I hope we get through the rest of the year without almost dying several times.” Y/N says after a long moment of silence. She doesn’t need to say who she’s talking about because Derek knows she’s talking about Stiles and his friends.
“Me too. Maybe this year will be different.” They both know that’s a long shot, but they still love to hope.
---
@xxemmarldxx @esposadomd @ladyjenjay @ts1mp0ne @misshale21
@n1ght5h4d3-24 @xoxoloverb
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 11 months
Text
can't fight the moonlight
kinktober, day twenty-nine
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a/n: this one was a fantasy that was so fuzzy and took a surprisingly long time to figure out, but the hazy dream of it kept me going till i solved the puzzle
summary: it didn’t matter what you did or how hard you tried, you had no way of overpowering the beast the moonlight turned him into. 
warnings: werewolf!bucky barnes x reader, smut, bucky's wolf form is very humanoid looking (think more teen wolf, less twilight), dubcon/noncon, predator/prey, established relationship, monsterfucking, little to no foreplay, dirty talk, squirting, overstimulation, cock drunk, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, forced breeding, belly bulge, size kink, size difference
word count: 2345
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2023
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“…and you’ve got some water in case you get thirsty and-, oh! Do you have something to eat? A snack or something?” you blabbered tensely as you helped lock the heavy chains that your partner snaked securely around his own limbs, bolting him to the cold basement for the night, “because I could go make you-”
Letting the iron in his grasp suddenly fall to the floor in a loud clang, like a volcano he exploded, “no!” heatedly throwing his hands up as he fumed, “I don’t need a fucking snack, would you just-…” catching your wide eyes, his sudden anger thawed a bit as he finally heard his own words, “I’m sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry,” you clutched your hands close to your chest, the keys tight in them dug into your palms.
Head lightly tilting to the side, Bucky let out a sigh, “you’re just trying to help and I’m-”
“It’s okay, I know,” you reassured him, “it’s the moon, I get it, don’t worry, darling,” you averted your gaze, staring down at the cold concrete floor, “I’m sorry about freaking out, like I do every month, but I just wanna do something that can make this better for you, even a little bit, anything, even though I know that there isn’t anything that can, I still can’t stop trying because I hate this,” you heard your voice grow thick and tears begin to blur up your vision, “I really really hate this.”
“Y/n…” you felt his fingers gently graze your cheek, bringing your glossy gaze back up to his, “you are helping, more than you even know. Before I met you, before you moved in and started being here every full moon, I was always terrified of getting out, terrified that I couldn’t detain myself enough and someone would end up getting hurt or worse… but I’m not scared of that anymore. It hasn’t happened once since you’ve been here to bolt the chains I can’t get to on my own and lock the doors from the other side. Plus knowing that you’ll be here when the sun eventually comes up, I hold onto that, no matter how painful it gets or how much I disappear, that fact doesn’t, it stays with me, keeps me somewhat sane throughout the night.” 
Letting out a shaky breath, you blinked away the mist in your eyes, trying to be brave as you uttered, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” he exhaled, gazing at you as you leaned in to seal the final padlock with a click. Getting up to your feet, you stepped towards the door, but your fingers froze on the knob as Bucky’s voice filled the cellar once more, “try and get some sleep, okay? I’ll see you in a bit.”
Glancing over your shoulder at his shackled frame, sitting against the wall, skin already glistening from the pending trauma, you promised, “okay,” even though you knew this night wouldn’t be any different from the rest. 
You could never sleep when the moon was full, never even relax enough to rest for a bit. Even though the layers of resources that encased the basement silenced Bucky’s screams of agony from the rest of the neighbourhood as well as your own ears, just the knowledge that only one floor below where you were trying to slumber, there your beloved laid in pain as every single bone in his body had to break before he could turn into a monster of the moon, that awareness kept you up better than any caffeine could. 
Locking the solid steel door behind you, so you repeated with the one atop the wonky staircase, the rest of the house suddenly feeling so cold without his presence. 
Still clad in garb you’d worn to work, you couldn’t bother to change out of it even if the dress and stockings weren’t the most comfortable clothing to do an all-nighter in, you just seized the grey cabled cardigan draped over the armchair by the fireplace and shrugged it over top.
Holding the kettle under the tap to fill it up, your weary vision locked on the ominous sphere looming in the night sky clearly visible from the kitchen window. Losing yourself to the sight, too absorbed by the troubling thoughts it brought on, you only snapped out of the trance when cold water began to flow over the side of the pot and soak your hand that clutched it. 
“Oh, shit…” you mumbled as you hurried to turn off the water and pour some of the abundances back out into the sink. 
Placing it down on the stovetop, you listened to the gentle clicking that emanated before the eventual flame as you turned the knob. The slight heat radiating beneath the kettle persuaded you to shift into the living room and with the flick of a match, light the fireplace, granting yourself more of that soothing heat to help battle the night. 
You nearly jumped out of your skin when the water came to a boil, kettle whistling like a demon to relay the message. 
With a mug of tea in your hand, you curled up in the chair by the fire and picked up the half-read book discarded on the small side table. 
This was the routine, even though you never could concentrate, you still at least tried to distract yourself. 
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A sudden bang ripped your eyes away from the page they had glazed over four times by now. Your vision instantly trained on the door to the cellar, clearly visible from where you were sitting. 
As the door then began to rattle rhythmically from an unyielding force, your body jumped at every thud, the novel in your grasp tumbling to the floor. 
Frozen in your seat, you watched as the door splintered, swiftly losing the short-lived battle and flying off its hinges.
With heavy footsteps, Bucky’s visage stepped into the light, except it wasn’t the Bucky you knew, not one you’d seen with your own eyes, but only ever heard tales about.
At first, you thought he still looked like himself, but as the firelight flickered across his form, you finally noticed just how altered he was. His natural body hair had quadrupled, fuzzing up his visage and the rippling muscles that hid beneath it, those as well seeming to have swelled up making his frame nearly unrecognisable. Though he always towered above your comparative stature, his height now was something else entirely. The sight of his eyes chilled you to the very bone, the calming blue was completely drowned out by a sea of black, with only a tiny golden flicker in the middle differentiating the obsidian. Nails long and tough like claws, broken chains still clung to his form as you watched his lip curl, a low growl rumbling throughout the room and letting you catch sight of his sharp teeth. 
Scarcely breathing at all, your hopes of him not noticing your presence began to fade as he predatorily sniffed the air. 
Your eyes suddenly grew wide as you spotted a part of him begin to swell up and come into the light. Throbbing, his unusually grand length intimidatingly curved upwards, it too haven grown just as the rest of his body had. 
Finally breaking through your terror, you sprung up and tried your best to run, though you didn’t get far as, within mere seconds, the natural hunter caught up to you and tackled you down to the ground, shredding the cosy knit you wore in the process. 
Cheek smooshed against the floorboards, you trembled beneath his beefy form as his flaming chest pressed against your back, knowing full well that if you made one wrong move, aggravated him in any sort of way, he could snap you like a twig. It didn’t matter what you did or how hard you tried, you had no way of overpowering the beast the moonlight turned him into. 
As your eyes flickered to the front door, it dawned on you that if he could break not only the chain that bound him, but also the strong basement doors, then the last barrier that kept him from the outside world wouldn’t even make him break a sweat. 
Growling directly in your ear, you felt his agitated breath fan across your face as his nose buried itself in your hair. Starved sniffs slowly travelling south, your heart nearly burst out of your chest as you felt him rip your clothes to shreds. Dress tattered and hanging off of you, your underwear swiftly disintegrated completely as only your stocking truly survived the attack, still clinging around your quivering thighs with only the smallest of tears to tell the tale. 
Grinding desperately against the curve of your form, his monstrous girth nudged against you, catching you off guard as even in this petrifying form, you still felt your body respond to him. 
“Bucky, Buck!” your voice squeaked in an attempt at breaking through to him, “it’s me! It’s me! It’s Y/n!” wildly flipping you over and roughly aligning himself with your core, you desperately tried to catch his dark eyes and try again, “Bucky, please!”
Joints locking up at the sound of your shrill cry, a flicker of reignition washed over his haunting glare, softening it slightly as you finally heard him speak, “…Y/n?” his voice was much lower than you’d ever heard it, though very much still his, “oh, fuck… I-…” a shaky breath escaped his lungs as he hovered above you, the tip of his cock nuzzled between your folds, “…I don’t think I can stop…” he grunted, his hand right beside your head digging into the floorboards and leaving splintery scratches in its wake, “I can’t fight it, I’m trying, but-”
“It's okay,” you carefully reached up and touched his cheek. You couldn’t let him run out that door and take some innocent lives. At this moment, all of his focus was aimed at you, so if it could just stay there and not stray till the sun came up, if you could distract him for only a little while longer, then the night might end without any unnecessary bloodshed. So, therefore, you gave in, “I love you, I love you so much,” your glistening eyes blinked up at him as you tried to speak with confidence, “you’re not gonna hurt me, I know you’re not. It’s okay, it’s-” 
Plunging into you, an almost animalistic noise accompanied his harsh action as the beast he’d become seized exactly what it desired. All of the air got pushed out of your lungs as he buried himself in you, stretching you out beyond belief and forcing a shuttering cry to tumble from your lips. 
Never mind the fact that he wasn’t wearing a condom, a thing the two of you had always been careful about, that detail fought to penetrate through the fog he sent you into. Stunned that you could even take it all, the sensation of him made your mind melt. You felt all of it. Every vein and every ridge, every jaw-dropping detail that decorated his monstrous cock drove you to madness.
“Fuck!” he snarled, bucking his hips so hard against yours that your whole body shook, the sloppy clapping of skin against skin filled the home as he greedily rammed against the deepest spot inside of you, “do you have any idea how long I’ve tried to break out of those chains?” leaning down closer, he inhaled deeply, “I can fucking smell you…” you shivered as his nose ghosted against yours, “all the way down in the basement, no matter where you are, I can always smell you… calling for me, begging me to come and rip you apart…”
Leaning back again, his bruising grip found your hips and plucked them up, holding them tight as the rest of you still laid melted against the floor like a puddle before him. Like a ragdoll in his grasp, he moved your body, fucking your drooling pussy like the ravenous beast he was. 
As your eyes fluttered down to where he virtually split you in two, the dull bulge that rhythmically appeared in your lower stomach at each and every one of his ruthless thrusts caught your attention, the vision making you dizzy. 
You had never felt like this, never felt anything so intense in your whole life. He was just so menacing, so magnetic, so massive. Your own enthusiasm caught you by surprise, especially as your cunt soon began to cry out around him, showing your living room floor in your want as you squirted all over his rock-hard girth. 
Usually, Bucky would slow down and give you a moment whenever you had an orgasm, but in this moment, tonight, it wasn’t your Bucky that was pounding the living hell out of you, it was someone else, something else, and that creature only seemed to get even more riled up by your lewd display as he picked up his speed till his gravelly groans grew louder and his efforts began to go sloppy. 
“Please, Buck,” you mumbly pleaded, picking up on his telltale signs through your cock drunk haze, “not inside.”
But he didn’t listen to you as he just kept on fucking you till he pumped your pussy full of his cum. 
Panting and puffing above you, he still kept up shallow thrusts, rocking you against him and pushing his load out of your overly sensitive cunt with every piercing plunge. 
“Buck?” you heard yourself uttered as you found his dark gaze, though what stared back at you was not your love anymore as there was no recognition to be found in his eyes at all. 
Slamming you back against him hard enough for it to sting, you shuttered at the possibility that he was nowhere near done satisfying his carnal desire. 
But just before he could ruin you completely, a sliver of light began to dawn on the far side wall. Glancing out the window, you barely managed to spot the morning crest over the treetops in the distance. 
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© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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cordeliawhohung · 6 months
Text
here's that one ghoap x reader one shot i had posted the idea for a bit ago
johnny has an easy smile and an aura that tells you he wants something significantly more than just his pleasure alone. it isn't until he's got you face first in the mattress that you realize you've bitten off more than you can chew.
cw: alcohol, smut (oral f!receiving, unprotected p in v) consensual to dub-con, slight voyeurism/exhibitionism, slight dumbification of johnny
2.4k
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Usually, you never gave your name out so easily to any man who sauntered up to you at the bar, but something was different about this one. Maybe it was because of that odd glint in his eyes; a deep rooted lust poorly obscured by a pretty blue tint. Maybe it was because he looked terribly lost in a very cute way, like a puppy trying to find its owner. Whatever it was, it had your name rolling off your tongue faster than you could stop it, and it made the vodka in your drink taste as sweet as syrup. 
His name was Johnny, and he had an easy smile that was too contagious for you to even attempt to keep up your stone cold expression. He nursed a simple pint, but didn’t seem nearly as interested in it as he was you. For all his smooth words and sharp wit, he didn’t seem to concern himself at all with attempting to hide the fact he had been undressing you with his eyes for the last half hour. The only reason you even allowed him to do so was because how warm it made you feel, rather than disgusting and violated. It was almost like a promise he was looking for something far greater than his own pleasure that night. 
Eventually your drink went down as easy as water and everything else began to melt away. The dim glow of the ambient lighting made Johnny appear even more alluring as he entertained you with some outlandish story that you were certain was mostly made up, but you didn’t care. He was nice to look at, and as you smiled and nodded along with his words you couldn’t help but wonder if his hair was as soft as it looked. 
“Wanna get out of here?” he suddenly suggested after you both were several drinks in. 
His proposition nearly had you laughing, and had it been any other man on any other night you certainly would have. As cute as Johnny was, it was impossible to deny the sweet puppy charm he had about him, and you didn’t know why it lured you in as well as it did. Visions of what could possibly wait for you that night began to unfold in your mind, and you found your hips shifting on the stiff barstool as your eyes flickered to the stubble on his jaw. You wondered how that stubble would feel on the insides of your thighs. 
“I don’t know…” you pondered, but your tone was far from sure. If anything, it was tempting; as if you wanted him to try and push more. 
“You sure?” he questioned with a raised brow. 
Before your reply could leave your lips, Johnny stole your breath away with a single brush of his fingers against your thighs. It all seemed a little juvenile, being touched in a bar as if you were two horny teens who couldn’t keep your hands to yourselves. Still, you would be lying if you said you didn’t want him to push just a little further as his hands grabbed the meat of your inner thigh like he claimed a prize. 
“Don’t know about you, but I’m starving.” 
What exactly transpired after he said that phrase that had your lips crashing against his was something you couldn’t quite recall, but you quickly realized you didn’t really care. The sour taste of beer was hot on your tongue as your thumb rubbed against the stubble on his jaw. He was the most intoxicating thing you had on your lips that night, and when his teeth nipped at you, you knew there was no way you could ever say no to his proposition. 
As Johnny pulled out of that sloppy, drunken kiss, you didn’t take notice of the way his eyes flickered away from you. You didn’t realize how his attention landed on a large, looming figure that sat tucked away at one of the tables in the far side of the room. While the man’s face was shrouded with a silly skull mask, his gaze spoke volumes; it screamed something that Johnny had been craving that entire night. 
Approval. 
As it would turn out, there were plenty of things you didn’t notice that night. You didn’t notice the two pairs of boots by Johnny’s front door, or how their sizes were so different. You didn’t notice how his bedsheets had the faint aroma of cigarettes woven in the fabric despite the fact you had not tasted a hint of tobacco on his lips when you kissed him. Or maybe you did notice and you just didn’t care. It was difficult to care about anything with Johnny’s face buried in your cunt. 
The sound of his moans rivaled that of your own, and it was downright obscene when accompanied by the wet smacking of his lips on your clit. He ate you out with a fervor you had never experienced with any other man, like he attempted to unravel you with his tongue alone. When your fingers weaved through the thick strands of his hair, that only seemed to prod him to do more. He sunk two thick fingers into your cunt and relished with a guttural groan at how your muscles squeezed at him. 
With his fingers and tongue working in tandem, it didn’t take you long to come. That blistering heat tore through your body with vicious revenge. Johnny’s chuckle got lost in the heat of your skin as he eventually weaned himself off of your cunt and planted a trail of kisses up your body until he reached your lips once more. You could tell by the way his tongue slipped into your mouth that he was far from finished with you, and so when you felt his hands on your hips gently prompting you to turn over, you didn’t fight him on it. 
Your hands and knees sunk into the mattress as you did your best to put on a show for Johnny. Back arched, ass up in the air, hips swaying side to side as if he needed any further enticing. His hands palmed and squeezed at your ass while he pressed himself against you. The fabric of his jeans felt odd and rough against your cunt — as Johnny was too impatient to taste you in order to take them off — yet you grinded back against him anyway. 
“Gorgeous,” he cooed. Rustling clothes sounded behind you as Johnny worked off his shirt, followed by the metallic zipping of his pants. “Gonna let me fuck this pretty pussy, aye? Wanna see if she feels as good as she tastes.” 
Your fingers curled into the bed sheets as Johnny’s cock sunk into you. The thick, wide stretch of him had your mind running blank. Even still, your mindless state had your body rocking back against him where you swallowed the rest of his length whole with a wanton whine. Johnny’s fingers dug into your hips at the stimulation, and you could feel the aching want exude from his body; as if he had to hold himself back lest he rip you to shreds like a badly behaved dog. 
“Bleeding Christ,” he hissed, hips grinding against yours. “She feels so good, bonnie. So fuckin’ good.” 
When Johnny’s hips pulled back just to slam against yours again, you knew you weren’t going to last long. With your nerves already frayed from your previous orgasm, this upcoming one wasn’t buried deep at all. It was right there, lingering just underneath your skin with its tendrils snaking up towards your mind, smothering any coherent thought you attempted to conjure. There was no need for rational thinking, anyway. Why would you need to question the heavy approaching footsteps or the dark rumbling chuckle behind you? 
“Bein’ good, Johnny?” 
The voice that spoke was unfamiliar, and it certainly didn’t belong to Johnny. The deep baritone of it caused your breath to hitch in your throat, yet it was impossible to hold back your moans as Johnny continued to fuck you like it was no big deal. 
“Of course I am,” Johnny panted in response, “just listen to her.”
“Not good enough to wait for me,” the man countered. 
“Couldn’t wait. Not when she was sittin’ so pretty f’me.” 
No, something was wrong. Someone else was there with you, watching as Johnny fucked you into the mattress like an animal. As a wave of panic settled in your chest, you pushed against the bed as you attempted to look over your shoulder, yet it was of no use. Johnny’s relentless pace made it impossible to do anything but slip and slide forward until your face was nearly being smothered into the pillows. 
“Johnny?” you asked, voice pitchy and raw. 
“Right here, bonnie,” he replied as his hands snaked around your front to paw at your chest. “Fuck, you sound so pretty sayin’ my name like that. Not gonna last much longer if you keep talkin’ like that.” 
Even if your brain was capable of coming up with a response to his mindless ramblings, your words surely would have gotten caught in your throat as Johnny’s hips suddenly faltered. His body moved away from yours with a slight jerk, as if someone had yanked on his head, but you could still feel his pathetic attempts to pump his cock into you as he whimpered. 
“Nuh uh,” the new man — whatever his name was — chastised. “You don’t get to come until she does, yeah?”
Johnny’s forehead suddenly crashed against your back as his thrusts picked up pace once again. The hands that were pawing at your chest quickly wandered down to your clit, and your body nearly convulsed at the violent stimulation. You gasped as you tried to rip his hand off of you while the tingling sensation of your impending demise started to crack your body to pieces. 
“Wait, Johnny please,” you babbled. You didn’t even know what you were trying to ask of him. To stop? To explain who that strange voice belonged to? How were you supposed to get those words out when he fucked you like a wild animal? 
“I know, I know,” Johnny shushed. “I just need one more out of ya. One more then Simon will be satisfied. Please, just one more bonnie, s’all I want.” 
A part of you wanted to hold back, to deny him that satisfaction, but it was impossible. He had already built you up so high that it was all too easy to kick out the support beams and watch you tumble. Johnny ripped your orgasm from your body with deft hands sending tremors throughout your body that forced your eyes to squeeze shut tight. It was searing — all consuming — like you were now bound to the man who fucked you and the stranger who egged him on. 
Johnny’s cock slid out of you once your whining had calmed down, but it wasn’t long before his grunts picked up again. Without his hands to hold your hips in place, you crashed forward onto the mattress with a wince before slowly turning on your back in an attempt to face him. 
The view that consumed your vision was enough to stun you into submission. Perspiration coated Johnny’s body with a glistening sheen, and he looked like a god as he sat in front of you on his knees. But he wasn’t alone. A large and brutish man stood at the end of the bed where he held Johnny against his chest by his hair. A black skull-patterned mask obscured his face, but you could make out the darkness of his eyes clear as day as he muttered into the man’s ear. You couldn’t hear what he said over the sound of Johnny’s whining, as the man had his arm snaked around to his front where he tugged at Johnny’s cock using your wetness as lube. 
Before you had the chance to muster a single thought, Johnny came undone. His cum spilled out of him in heavy bursts, falling along your thighs and stomach as the man continued to work him through his end. Had you not been so confused and scared, you would have made a face at the odd, sticky feeling that tainted your skin. Instead, you laid there in silence as the man shoved his cum-coated fingers into Johnny’s mouth. 
“Such a messy pup,” he hummed while Johnny licked his fingers clean. 
When the man turned his attention to you, you wanted to just melt into the bed. To vanish into thin air. To be anywhere else that wasn’t under his gaze. His eyes swept over you in a quick assessment before he pushed Johnny’s head toward you with a simple shove. 
“Clean her up,” he ordered. 
And he did. Johnny’s feverish tongue lapped along your legs and torso, cleaning up the remnants of his cum on your body. But you didn’t feel clean. You felt dirty and confused; used even. 
“Did I do good? I made you come twice, didn’t I? Please tell me I did good, bonnie,” Johnny begged. 
With your body cleaned with his tongue, his nose nuzzled against the inside of your neck as he covered your body with his. As an instinct, your arms wrapped around him as if he was the only support you had. If you couldn’t hide away in the bed, then you’d certainly try to hide away under Johnny, as useless as it was. You made the mistake of making eye contact with that stranger, and his eyes looked like a warning. Like you shouldn’t dare to tell Johnny he was anything less than great. 
“Y-You did good, Johnny,” you said, voice meek and trembling. 
“Did ya hear that, Simon? She said I did good,” Johnny repeated, relishing in your approval. “Thank you, bonnie, thank you…” 
The man — Simon? — walked around the edge of the bed to get closer to you and Johnny, and you found your grip on him tightening. That night had seemed like a good idea back at the bar when you were a few drinks in, but you couldn’t ignore the way your heart felt like it tried to tear itself to shreds. Simon reached his hand for the back of Johnny’s head where he gave his hair a good ruffle, yet when he spoke he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of you. 
“Good pup.”
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taesanluv3r · 25 days
Text
youthful rebellion
han taesan x reader
reader and secret bf!taesan rebel against their strict parents :3 inspired by the dangerous mv! stealing a car, driving without a license, making-out (sort of, it's implied) gets pretty silly at the end...as expected from a fic by me LMAO lowercase intended. pls excuse any grammatical mistakes or spelling errors! enjoyyyy
wc: 2,279
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"wanna do something crazy?"
han taesan and yn ln. two chaotic teens tied by the ropes of their suburban neighbourhood. born to be living and loving their youth- staying out till sunrise with their best-friends, going to parties and getting shit-faced- but forced to be home by their early curfews set by their strictly rule-driven parents. the list of dos and don'ts go beyond anyone's field of vision.
DO: study hard, get good grades, eat healthy foods and sleep early. DON'T: date, sleep around, drink, get home after 8pm...and definitely DO NOT even think about stealing your parents' car.
"depends what 'crazy' is..." yn replies to the boy on the other line of the phone-call. it was almost midnight, all the lights in the neighbourhood had been turned off and everyone was asleep. well, everyone except the two teenagers who, unlike everyone else, refused to retire into their beds. "like...sneak out and steal a car kind of crazy?" taesan's rebellious suggestion shocks her, a silent gasp escaping her mouth. she can hear him laugh, "what? too risky?"
yn moves from her bed to sit on her desk in front of her window. the window that was directly adjacent to his own one. "open your curtain, i wanna see you" she whispers, just in case her parents weren't as deaf as she thought. "mhm" taesan responds quickly before his face comes into view from the house across hers.
they share a smile, stupidly waving at each other. yn blushes when the boy blows her a flying kiss- something both their parents would yell at them for...but mom and dad never had to know, they could go about their secret relationship the way they have been for the past few months since they started dating. behind their backs, staying on the phone all night, and communicating from the window. they don't mind it in the slightest- i mean, how else were they supposed to do it? if they were out together in the day, it'd only be a matter of time before their strict parents figured it out and forbid them from ever seeing each other again. the pair won't lie though, sometimes they wish they could just...rebel.
"what's a pretty girl like you thinking so hard about right now, hm?'' yn could see his mouth move, but the sound only came from out her phone's speaker. "um...nothing" but taesan doesn't believe her for a second. "you can't seriously be considering the sneaking out thing i was talking about...can you?" she doesn't even need to answer. in fact, the fact that she didn't was proof alone that she was indeed thinking about it. the girl looks up to see her boyfriend, only to find him shuffling around his bedroom. her eyebrows furrowed, "what're you doing?" it's silent for a second, but she can see him throw on his sweater.
"come meet me by my garage, we'll take my dad's car"
the girl can't believe her ears, too stunned that she had accidentally zoned out for a moment, only to regain consciousness when she caught a glimpse of the boy waving his hand around at her from his window. "hello? darling, if you're not up for it we don't have-" he was cut off, "no! meet you in 5?" his toothy grin shined brightly, her own one just as pearly white.
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it didn't take long for yn to successfully sneak out of her house. she had taken out the battery on the automatic lock about a year ago without her parents knowing, and as it turned out they were much deeper sleepers than she had thought. if she had known sneaking out were this easy, she probably would've done it way before this.
according to plan, the girl quietly walks over to the neighbouring home. she waits by the opened garage, the lights were still off and there was no sign of her boyfriend. 'hope he didn't get caught...' just as the thought crossed her mind, the squeak of a door, followed by soft footsteps enter her ears- and before long, appears her tall and pale, handsome boyfriend.
"hey" he says excitedly, though his voice is hushed and his breathing was heavy. "hi" she mumbles when he engulfs her into his arms. "sorry i took so long, my dad kept the keys on his bed-side table and i had to tip-toe around him...think his snores were loud enough to drown out the noise though" he laughs coming to the end of the sentence, as does she. "c'mon, we better go before it's too late"
as quiet as humanly possible, the pair made it into the car without creating a ruckus. "damn...okay" yn sighs, letting out the breath she didn't even know she was holding. "right...so..." it was silent all of a sudden, the teens staring blankly at the dashboard in front of them. taesan in the driver's seat just as clueless as yn in the passenger's. "so like...are you gonna drive or...?" the girl asks, her gaze moving from the inert wheel to the boy who had his hands wrapped around it. "um...well, i don't really have a license...but...it shouldn't be that hard right?"
normally, the girl would freak out and maybe start a fight but, for whatever reason, all she could bring herself to do right now was...laugh. he did as well, their hysterics muted by the walls of the car, hiding them from the ears of the neighbourhood. "i believe in you" yn says, pressing a motivational kiss to his cheek. taesan finds it ticklish, scrunching his nose at the feeling. "alright..." he begins, sticking in the key to start the car. the engine makes a roaring sound that the pair swears the whole world could probably hear. it gets their hearts racing, the adrenaline rush finally kicking in. "you ready?" he asks, looking for one last bit of reassurance from his girlfriend and his foot over the pedal as he adjusts his posture. she nods at him,
"let's get outta here"
with that, the boy begins to drive, silently making their way out of the garage and onto the road, headed out to the main street. he gets the hang of the steering wheel rather quickly, all their doubts and worries flying straight out the window as they accelerated out of their sleepy neighbourhood.
"oh my god...can't believe we did that" taesan says, looking back at the houses that got smaller and smaller behind them. yn laughs, "eyes on the road, babe" she reminds him, beginning to snoop through the glove compartment for something to put into the CD slot of the radio. "mj...more mj...nirvana...and...'dangerous youth'? what's that?" his girlfriend's question grabs taesan's attention as the car came to a halt at a red-light. "let me see" he says, grabbing the unfamiliar disc from her. "looks like one of my dad's old mixtapes...looks older than me!" the boy hands the thing back over to the girl, moving the car from parking mode as the light turned green.
"should we put it on?"
it takes a minute for the radio to read the disc, a slight buzzing sound entering their ears at it spun within the machine. it's silent for a moment, the orange-ish light of the music-player blinking the words: track 01. a sense of familiarity hit their spines as the first beat of the song played, followed by infamous lyrics that just about anyone could recognize.
'we don't need no education...'
"oh, pink floyd!" as expected from the boy's music-loving father, the band's hit song of the late 70s, Another Brick in the Wall, Part 2. the rebellious teens bounced their heads to an anthem that fit all too well with their actions right now, the boy's fingers tapping against the wheel and the girl playing an imaginary set of drums while they sang along to the tune.
"hey teacher! leave them kids alone!"
the pair drove for about an hour, not a clue where they were even headed. "there's a cliff around the edge of the street, wanna stop there?" taesan asked, turning to look at yn who was staring out the window. "mhm, we could watch the sunrise"
before long they had arrived by the cliff. the car parked beside the road, and the two of them sitting right beside each other on a small patch of grass. it was well into one o' clock in the morning at that point, the skies still dark and the stars bright as ever, decorating the space around the moon.
"the moon is so pretty, isn't it?" yn says, suddenly moved by the atmosphere. it was quiet and cold outside, the only other sound apart from the pair that stayed awake, was the wispy winds against the crispy leaves. "and it'll never lose it's beauty" her eyes turn away from the shining orb of light and over to his, who had been looking at her the whole time. their breaths are heavy, the beating of their hearts loud enough for the both of them to hear. "yn...can i kiss you?" his simple inquiry of consent was enough to melt all her insides. she looks at him with eyes that shined just as the moon did.
"please"
taesan wasted no time in pulling her close. her hands in his hair as his own travelled down to her waist. their lips found place in each other's just as quickly, leaving no room for air as their tongues danced a pas de deux within the caves of their mouths. yn tumbles forward, pushing his body down onto the grass, never separating from each other, like they've been starved for years before this.
"yn..." he says, his mouth free to speak when she moves over to his neck. the girl stops for a moment, sitting up straight to look him in the eyes again. the boy's mouth opens to continue, "i love you" she smiles, pulling him close again. "i..." she breathes heavily, kissing him more, "love..." their noses hit each other, and the thin hairs on their bodies create fiction; a ticklish feeling rumbling up in her belly.
"...love you too"
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"you think they've noticed we're gone by now?" yn asks, fingers swirling around atop his abdomen, her head on his chest as they laid on the grass. "probably" taesan replies, yawning softly as his hands run through his girlfriend's hair. "think they'll never let us see each other again?" this time he giggles, the vibrations of which go straight to the side of her face. "totally"
yn pouts as she sits up, looking down at the smiling boy with a look of sadness. "aw, baby..." he teases, grabbing her hand to pull her back down towards him. "if they do that to us we'll just have to sneak out again, right?" she sighs, "i guess so...'' the couple falls silent as the pale sky turns orange. the bright sun began to rise, signaling the pair that just as the traces of last night started to disappear, so must their youthful rebellion.
"c'mon" the boy says, helping the girl up. the teens entered the car, a deja-vu sort of feeling coursing through their veins as memories of their midnight adventures flashed over their brains. yn yawns this time, reaching forward to grab her phone from the compartment below the radio. "ah!" she winces when the brightness of the screen shocks her sensitive eyes, taesan laughs at her before reaching for his own phone.
"yikes...thirty missed calls and a hundred and two messages..." she sighs, scrolling through the thousands of notifications from her parents last night. the boy beside her scoffs, "only thirty?" he asked exaggeratedly, earning a worried look in return. "try sixty missed calls and two hundred texts...!"
the couple shares a fit of laughter as they came up with about a million different scenarios for their parents' reaction to them returning home. "no, no! my mom would definitely cry!" she'd say, and he'd shake his head. "not as badly as my dad would!"
han taesan and yn ln quieted down, staring out the main window of the vehicle. "think we'll be grounded?" he asked, as if it weren't obvious. "probably" she replied. the pair turned to face each other, identical smiles placed against their lips. the girl leaned in, pulling him by the collar of his sweater to kiss him- and they continued to kiss for another fifteen or so minutes, until they both desperately needed to breathe again. she giggled, as did he, looking at each other happily as they spoke the same two words.
"worth it"
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"you know, i thought when they said 'you two will pay for this!' they meant something a lot worse..." yn said, squeezing out the excess soap from her sponge. "yeah...thought they were gonna cage us in our rooms for the rest of our lives and board up our windows or something...but this? this isn't bad at all!" taesan follows, wiping a bit of sweat that dripped down his face. "in fact..." he says, moving to wrap his arms around the girl. "i quite like washing cars with you"
she giggles at his words, closing her eyes when he presses a kiss to her nose. "i quite like it too..." this time they kissed on the lips, the sponges dropped onto the floor, not at all phased by the foam-y soap that got all over their clothes.
"HEY! I SAID CLEAN THE CAR NOT KISS! THAT'S RIGHT, GET BACK TO WORK!" the boy's dad yells from the front door of their home, shocking the teens for a second before they broke out into laughter.
"tsk...those blasted kids"
the end.
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AHHH dangerous is so so good and i love tht mv so so much :3!!! also i actually asked my dad on advice for song choices for tht part when they discover ts' dad's mixtape LMAOO he suggested pink floyd's song and then added tht if it were HIM stealing a car w his gf as a teen it'd be 21+ love songs 😭😭 dad PLS! anyways hope u enjoyed!! reblogs n feedback r so appreciated <3 love, kona.
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yagirlpurplefox12 · 2 months
Text
Logan’s Firecracker
(Logan Howlett x Female Reader Insert)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“When you get to young Xavier, tell him to find me. Young me would have loved to have been in a school like that,” you pant out to Logan with blood dripping down your nose.
“(F/N)—!”
“Now go, I’ll hold them off.”
Tears start to make his vision blurry as he clenches his jaw…very unwilling to let you go but he knows he has to. The Sentinels have taken over and he has to go back in time to stop this from ever happening…but that means losing you…
“(F/N), I…”
Looking from his face to the door, you know the others are holding off as best as they can but dying at drastically quick rate. Focusing back to Logan, you give a small carefree smile and kiss him on the lips. The first and last kiss.
“I love you too. Now go fix the past and tell Xavier to find me. Bye, Logan.”
Getting away from his grasps, you salute the others in the room and lock the door behind you. In front of you is carnage and more Sentinels than before. Getting ready, you feel the space and gravity around you and send out a burst of gravikinesis force sending the Sentinels flying.
You know you are going to die like your friends before you. But be damn if you let them get to Logan and the rest of hope without a fight.
And a fight did you bring.
Along with a horrible death in the process.
But technically that never happened.
Now Logan stands in X’s office as he is given the details on what happened after 1973. Seeing Jean, Scott, and everyone else, he’s happy to have everything back to how it should have been. Though, there is one person on his mind he can’t forget.
“Logan, as I said before you have a class to teach. Now since you just learned about the changes, I’ll be in the classroom with you if you want.”
“That may be best,” Logan grumbles, still thinking about his girl. About you. A strong woman who made him realize love can come anytime and in surprising ways. A young woman originally from shield who had gravitational powers. You were also much younger than him meeting him when you were 23. But as the two years past with the both of you fighting side by side, more than a friendship blossomed but was never dealt with considering the uncertainties of death.
Arriving to the classroom, Logan notices some young friendly faces that either died battling the Sentinels or should be with Magneto instead of here.
After class greets him and Professor X and the bell rings, the door suddenly slams open and a flustered, short, young adult with a shit eating grin on her face chuckles nervously.
“Sorry I was late Logan, training got a little fun now that I can do some cool shit.” Professor X shakes his head at your language in front of the kids as the class laughs at your seemingly normal everyday behavior.
Seeing you, Logan can’t help but to feel that tight feeling around his heart and throat. Looking down at Xavier, the older bald man smiles at him and nods.
Logan then looks back at you and watches you.
“(F/N),” he starts, catching your attention.
“ I know, I know, language. It’s a hard adjustment.”
“How about taking over today’s lesson?”
Your eyes widen and you start to giggle out of nervousness and anticipation, “Wait, for real?”
He nods and tells Professor X he’s not needed.
‘How about you take the day off and be with her? Since you’re officially back now, I think you deserve some peace.’
Logan smiles and nods his head, Xavier now rolling to the door but not before telling you to behave. As he sits back and watches you teach the class in a VERY entertaining way keeping the young teens attention, he feels a burning sensation behind his eyes. He’s grateful he doesn’t remember anything after 1973, for it would honestly be super awkward if he had to see you as a child. He’s grateful Xavier listened and, just like he told Logan in his office before they headed to the classroom, Xavier found you just a week before you accidentally kills your family and everyone in the apartment building. He’s just really happy to see you, alive, and as geeky and animated as ever. Like you’ve never changed. No matter what pst or future, you’ll always have the lovely, bubbly spirit. Once class ends, Logan gives them homework and as Xavier promised he let everyone know there will be no history class for the rest of the day, surprising you.
“(F/N), how about we go out and enjoy our free day?”
“….really?”
Logan can’t help to feel flustered but he knows he has to do this, he doesn’t know if you feel for him the same as in the other timeline, but he would regret it if he never tried.
“Well I’m on my period and I’ve been craving strawberry ice cream and Puerto Rican food,” you slide up to him with the smiles he wants you to wear everyday as long as you live. He wonders if he himself before ever pulled a move on you, whether that is taking you out in a date or simply hugging you. He gives back your smiles and gives in to his feelings for you. Reaching behind your head, he grasps the back and messages between the lower part of your head and your nape. “Let me get you those well deserved treats.” Your cheeks flush from his actions and words but your smile only grows bigger. “Well, let’s go then! Oooh, and last week you promised me a ride on your bike, let’s go,” you grab his hand and he lets you pull him towards the garage. You answered is unheard question. He is meant to like you and from your hopping and smiling and even flushing his arm to your body, you are meant to like him as well. Your arms squeezes to him and you lay your protected head on his back the whole ride to the closest town that you said has Puerto Rican food.
It’s lunch time by then but since it’s a workday not many are out. He buys all the food you want and lets you feed him yourself of everything he never had. The whole day, the two of you were getting closer and closer. “Logan, are you feeling alright?”
“Hmm?”
The two of you are ending your day licking ice cream after spending and hour and a half at a book store. Piles of bags are next to him, every book he saw you remotely interested, he bought.
Had to get a lot of gay manga but if it makes you happy, it makes him happy.
“Well, you’re always so broody and very cold many times. You also have a tendency to yell at me and abuse the hell out of me during training, but for the past month or two you’ve been very nice to me…and today…I guess what I’m saying is don’t be an asshole and get my hopes up. I know you know I like you, I mean since I was 15 I’ve literally asked you to be my prom date every year. Was this day just to tell me that I’ll never have a chance or what?”
Logan freezes for a moment, and watches your face get saddened per second. He remembers from the other timeline of you being insecure about…well everything. You were just always joyful while making stupid untrue comments about yourself. He’s not gonna let you think like that.
Gently grabbing your chin, he guides your face to his and wait, seeing if you’ll object. Your eyes and the lick to your lips give him no objection. Moving forwards, both of your mouths collide to a deep and passionate kiss. Your bodies feeling the same tingle and longing. Dropping your ice cream to the ground, you grasp his hair, pulling to get a deeper kiss as he groans in your mouth. “I love you (F/N), I want to take you on dates every weekend, treat you like the queen you are, and god I want you so badly,” he states between kisses. You can’t help but feel for him the same, “I love you too Logan. I just can’t believe a hunk of a man like you would be interested in flabby me.”
“Don’t talk about yourself that way, you’re gorgeous inside and out,” he growls at you.
You guys headed home right after that, but Logan wants to take his time with you. To cherish you. You invite him to your room to watch the Child’s Play series, cuddling, and eating popcorn and snacks. He kisses your head and inhales your scent. He scents your shampoo, perfume, skin, and even the little musk of want coming from under the covers. “Love you Logan, can you sleep here, with me?”
“Of course, love you too you little firecracker.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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woso-dreamzzz · 7 months
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Hardersson x Teen!Reader
Summary: You're struggling a bit
*TW for eating disorder*
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You didn't know when exactly it started but you knew it was here to stay.
"You not that hungry?" Millie asks as you sit down next to her for lunch.
Being the youngest member of the team had its perks and this definitely wasn't one of them. Everyone else got to choose where to sit for lunch while your older teammates made you sit with them.
You shrug. "Upset tummy."
It's not exactly a lie. Your stomach churned at the idea of having to eat a big meal (having to eat at all, actually) and it was uncomfortable. But it was uncomfortable not eating as well. You had hunger pangs almost every moment of your waking life.
Eat or not eat.
Pain or pain.
"Are you sick?" Millie asks, brow furrowed as she looks at you," You look a bit sickly."
You knew what she was talking about. You used to be able to control your eating well but you had spiralled recently. You felt ill even looking at the buffet earlier and you refused to even contemplate putting more than one thing on your plate.
It had been like this for weeks now and you knew everyone could see it.
Your skin had taken on a waxy pallor. Your nails had gone brittle and your hair was thinning at an alarming rate.
You hope that everyone just thinks you're sick. You push your food around with your fork before cutting it up into smaller pieces. You had a handle on this. You would get a handle on this.
"Bad night's sleep," You offer to Millie and she takes the bait, nodding like she understood what you were saying.
"Who had a bad night's sleep?" Your captain slid into the seat on your other side, with Pernille taking the seat on her right.
"y/n," Millie says," It's why she looks ill."
"You've been having a lot of those," Magda says, eyes narrowed as she watches you.
You try to be casual but with her and Pernille's eyes on you, you feel like you're under the microscope. You take a small bite of your food, trying not to wince when it tastes of nothing but ashes. You reach for your drink.
"It happens," You say diplomatically. You don't want to give anything away.
Magda and Pernille were protective of you anyway. You didn't want them to know this. They barely let you live on your own. You didn't want to be under their gaze all the time.
"Hmm," Magda hums, still looking at you and you load more food onto your fork.
You lift it up like you're about to eat before moving it back down onto your plate again.
"I heard that Emma's planning new drills. Is it true?"
Your question distracts Magda, who huffs and starts eating her own food. Her gaze is torn away from you as she mutters things under her breath.
You don't pick your fork back up.
Your hunger pangs worsen the more time goes on. You'd barely eaten lunch and you hadn't eaten breakfast either. You just tried to fill your stomach with water, leading to a semi-impressive feeling of bloating while also being able to feel it all slosh around in your belly.
Actually, now that you think about it as you run through drills and complete your sprints, you're not too sure when the last time you ate a full meal.
Did energy bars count as full meals?
Because you ate an energy bar during the break between drills.
Either way, it doesn't seem to be working now. Black spots appear in your vision and you have to stop moving so you can stay on your feet. You scratch at your neck, somehow feeling completely dehydrated even though you know that you had drank water not even five minutes ago.
"Hey." You don't even realise Pernille's holding your waist until she speaks. "Are you okay? You're swaying."
Her eyes look worried and you try to nod but it only makes you feel worse, more black spots appearing before you go almost completely limp.
"Okay," Pernille says softly even though she's panicking on the inside," Let's sit down, okay? We're just going to sit down."
But you don't have enough strength to sit down and you've lost consciousness almost the moment you touch the ground.
"Hey!" Pernille calls out," I'm going to need some medics!"
She checks your pulse even though she's got a feeling she already knows what's happened. Magda can be distracted but Pernille can't.
She's noticed your general wariness at lunch, the way you talk more than eat and how you play around with your food. She knows that you're not eating breakfast too just by the way you ate a cereal bar this morning.
You're sixteen so you're not exactly great at cooking either so Pernille's also sure that you're not eating well at home either.
She knew that she should have put her foot down when you moved from Vittsjö to Chelsea. She knew she should have made you move in with her and Magda.
"We need to get her inside," One of the medics say.
You're almost too light in Pernille's arms as she lifts you and carries you inside.
"Is she okay?" Magda runs over to join them.
"She's not been eating." Pernille feels confident in what she thinks. "So, no, Magda, she's not okay." She lays you down on the physio bed, running a hand through her hair in frustration. "I don't care what she says, she's not okay and she's not going home alone."
Magda's a little dense sometimes. "Who's she going home with? Is someone on the way?"
"Us, Magda. She's coming home with us and she'll be lucky if I ever let her out of my sight again. You've still got the spare bedroom made up, right?"
"Exactly as we left it," Magda says.
She looks down at you. You look much younger than your sixteen years as you rest on the bed. You've never passed out before to Magda's knowledge and your skin looks almost translucent as you lay there.
"She'll come around soon," The medic promises," Get her energy levels up and take her home. She needs rest." He glances around. "And I'll set up a meeting with the nutritionist for next week."
"I've got some trail mix in my bag," Magda offers," I'll grab some."
You come around slowly, blinking your eyes and squinting as you adjust to the light.
"Are you going to yell at me?"
"Why?" Pernille says," Have you done something that I need to yell at you for?"
She helps you sit up, jamming a water bottle between your lips so you can rehydrate before Magda dumps a bag of trail mix into your hands.
You hold it there.
"Eat."
"I'm not hungry."
"Eat," Your captain says firmly," We're not leaving until you've eaten at least half."
You have to fight to roll your eyes.
Fine, you'll play their game, nibbling on the nuts and fruit as you think of some topic to distract them both.
Only Magda doesn't let you speak.
"I don't want to hear any arguments," She says," You're staying with me and Pernille now. We've got your room ready and you'll be eating three square meals a day and snacks."
Your stomach drops. Your throat goes dry.
"What?"
Your mind works in overdrive as you try to come up with some way to make Magda change her mind. You end up deciding that the best course of action is pretending that it's all a joke.
"That's funny," You say," Is this a weekend thing or something? Because I have plans that I can't miss."
Magda's face hardens and you decide that looking at Pernille is obviously safer.
(It's not).
She looks equally as angry, if not more so than Magda. Her arms are crossed over her chest as she stares you down.
You're getting the distinct feeling that you're caught in a bear trap.
"You're a good kid," Pernille says finally as she watches you shovel trail mix into your mouth just so you had something to do," And you're so talented. I don't know what's going on but we're here to help you."
"Nothing's going on."
"There is," Pernille says firmly," And that's okay. We're going to help you."
You stand up quickly, too quickly perhaps because you wobble uncertainly on your feet and Magda has to guide you back to a sitting position.
But you still try to salvage your wounded pride.
"I'm fine. I don't need help."
"You do," Magda says," And I'm sorry that we didn't realise sooner."
"I..." Tears spill down your cheeks against your will. "I don't need help."
"We're going to help you anyway."
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