#wanting to leave but not really having the guts or ability to

[not-neverland06]

we're dating? ♡

logan howlett x fem!mutant!reader

One-shot A/N: I've decided using the same X-men name/powers for the reader in my Logan fics is easier because coming up with superpowers is hard and stupid. They call you flux, like once, it's really just a nickname incoming warning for fluff so bad you'll get a cavity Summary: You're on probation from the team and official house arrest after a little accident with your powers. Logan knows you're going stir-crazy so he takes you to the arcade for some fun. And then your friendship takes a weird turn. (80's timeline in mind, but characters not from the 80’s will be mentioned) Clueless!reader

You’d had an accident, a few weeks ago. Well, accident might be downplaying it too much. You’d destroyed the garden and left a ten-foot crater in the backyard of Charles’ prestigious grounds. In your defense, you had warned them all that it wasn’t a good idea to take your cuffs off. 

The metal bands are entirely necessary to make sure you can’t lose control and wipe out everything around you. Manipulation at an atomic level is beyond fatal. You don’t want to think about what would have happened if you’d had the meltdown and the kids were anywhere near you. 

Charles had been able to shut you down, but now he’s keeping you on probation. You’ve been locked up in the mansion, unable to leave until you managed to get your abilities under control. There’s never been a problem with wearing the cuffs before. You don’t understand why he’s so against them now. 

You’re going stir-crazy. There’s only so many times you can pace your room before you start to lose your mind. He’s not even letting you teach classes anymore. You’re stuck training, all day, every day. 

“Focus!” Charles snaps and you resist the urge to turn his bones liquid. Maybe that would get him off your back. 

Instead of killing your friend, you glare at the large tank of water in front of you. You do what you’ve been doing for the past half hour. It fluctuates from liquid to gas to solid, and then liquid again. An endless cycle of repetition that makes you want to melt your brain so you don’t have to do this anymore. 

You drop your hand and huff. “This is pointless, Charles. What’s this even teaching me?”

He crosses his arms, walks over to you, and pointedly glares at the tank in front of you. You roll your eyes and look back at it. “Shit,” you hiss. In your frustration, the glass has cracked and splintered into dust. Water pools around your stool and leaks through the wood of the floor. You flick your wrist, the glass swirling around you before reforming into the tank. The water follows along, droplets lifting from the floor and dropping back into the container. 

“One moment of frustration, of distraction. That’s all it took.” Charles shakes his head and walks back over to his desk. He picks the cuffs up and you slip them silently back onto your wrists. “How can you be trusted to protect your team on the field if you can’t control this? What are you going to do when you’re panicked and fighting for your life?”

Shame bubbles in your gut. It makes you nauseous and forces your eyes to the floor so you don’t have to face him. He sighs, placing his hands on your shoulders and squeezing gently. You glance up at him briefly and he offers a strained smile. 

“This is for your protection, as much as you hate it, Flux. It’s necessary.” You scoff at the use of your X-Men name. Not much of an X-Man if you’re not even on the field anymore. 

“Right,” you mutter. “Thanks for the lesson in incompetency,” you don’t let him respond and slam the door to his office closed behind you. You feel bad the second you get outside and onto the porch. He doesn’t deserve your bitchiness. It’s your own fault you can’t get a handle on this. You don't have anyone to blame but yourself. 

You let out a dramatic sigh, throwing yourself into a rocking chair and running your hands over your face. The once comforting weight of your cuffs is now oppressing. It just feels like a constant reminder of your failure. You should already have a handle on all of this, but you struggle to even manipulate water. 

“Rough day?” You don’t open your eyes as Logan walks by. He takes a seat on the rocking chair beside you, letting out a low groan as he stretches. 

You let your hands drop into your lap, staring at the sunset so you don’t have to face him. You’ve already dealt with enough dejection today. You don’t need to look at him and be reminded that you want him in a way you can never have. 

“Mhm,” you hum, propping your head in your hand as you watch the sun disappear behind the clouds. The sky is painted in hues of pink and orange that seem too hopeful for how you feel right now. 

Logan chuckles, the sound low and gravely. It makes your heart stutter in your chest and you cringe in embarrassment. You know he can hear the way your heart practically beats free of your ribs when you’re around him. You’re sure with that nose of his he can smell some sort of hormonal change in you every time you lay eyes on him. 

You swear you’ve never felt this way about a man before. You haven’t had many boyfriends before, it’s not really common among mutants. Not many people are accepting of you when they know what you are. And some people are too into you. 

But you've had crushes, and none of them have been as bad as this one is. You want to gnaw on him. It sounds fucking insane every time you think about it. But when you train with him and he tears his shirt off, you want to sink your teeth into him and never let go. 

You feel feral around him, a side of you surfacing that you’re not used to. Maybe it’s because of his mutant abilities. They are very animalistic, it’s easy to blame that on how desperately you crave him. 

You hate being around him and despise not being in his presence. It’s conflicting, and more often than not you sound like a bumbling idiot when you speak to him because your brain is going in a million different directions. 

You hear the familiar click of his lighter and then he shifts again. You risk a peek over at him and regret it the second you do. His head is tilted back, eyes closed in relaxation as he stretches across the porch. Smoke leaks out of his lips as he groans in satisfaction. 

You have to pick your jaw up off the floor and make sure there isn’t drool on your chin. This is insane. You’re a grown woman, how does he have this much of an effect on you? He’s not even doing anything! He’s just sitting there and you want to jump his bones. 

You whip your head around, mumbling incoherently to yourself to get it together. Logan peaks an eye open and you miss the mischievous tilt to his lips. “Something wrong?”

I need to have sex with you or I’m going to explode. 

You stutter for a few seconds, getting your mind back together. “Just training with Charles,” you mutter. 

He sits up a little straighter and quirks a brow. When you don’t continue he sighs. “And?” He prods, impatient for your answer. You hope you’re not reading into it, but you think he’s been as disappointed by your absence from the team as you are. He always complains about being partnered up with Scott. You like to think it’s because he misses you. But you’re probably just delusional. 

“And, nothing,” you sigh. Your hands flop against your legs and you glare at the bands on your wrists. “No progress. I still can’t control them without these on, and my abilities are watered down and useless with the cuffs.”

Logan huffs, you’re caught off guard by the sudden warmth on your thigh. You glance down, eyes widening ever so slightly when you see his hand on your leg. It nearly covers the whole thing and when he squeezes your thigh you think you’re going to pass out. 

You’re friendly. But you’ve never been touchy. At least not like this. The placement of his palm is very intimate and you are struggling not to just get on your knees and profess your undying love. You take in a deep breath, looking up at him so you can get your heartbeat under control. 

But looking at him just makes it worse. Because there is so much faith and fondness in his gaze as he looks at you. His lips are tilted up, eyes soft, and you’ve never had someone make you feel so warm and secure from just a look. 

“You aren’t useless,” he tells you. He squeezes your thigh again before he retreats back to his chair. You have to clamp your jaw shut so you don’t beg him to keep touching you and never stop. “You’re just stuck in this house all day. You’ve got nothing to do but sit in your failure.”

You scoff and throw yourself back in your seat. “Don’t remind me. I’ve begged Charles to let me out.” Your gaze drifts to the crater in the backyard. Some of the kids have been working on filling it in, but whatever energy you’d let go of has left a permanent mark. “He refuses to give me permission.”

Logan laughs, the noise teasing and a little mean. Your brows furrow and you glance over at him with a questioning look. He tilts his head in disbelief like you’re an idiot. “Seriously, Flux? Just fuckin’ leave, who gives a shit?”

“Uh,” you think on it for a minute before weakly settling on, “Charles?”

His face falls and you sink lower into your seat. He looks out at the yard, gaze distant. His jaw clenches a few times before he puts the cigar out on the ashtray beside him. He gets to his feet and you think he might just leave. Instead, he turns towards you. 

You’re caught off guard by the little smirk on his face. “Wanna have some fun?”

Only an idiot would say no. 

You grin and place your hand in his, yelping slightly at how easily he pulls you to your feet. You stumble into his chest and are hesitant to back away when his hand drifts to rest on your waist. He looks down at you, smiling, he squeezes your waist once before he backs up. 

“Come on, kid.” He tugs you inside the house, leading you downstairs to the garage. You already know what he’s going for before the door is even open. 

“Didn’t Scott tell you to leave his bike alone?” Logan takes a step inside. He pauses, glancing over his shoulder and grinning at you. It makes your breath catch in your throat, the happiness on his face. You never see him like this around the others. 

You hate thinking like that. Placing too much importance on your relationship with him will only lead to heartbreak down the road. But, you never see him act the way he does with you with anyone else.

“Since when have I ever listened to Cyclops, sweetheart?” 

“Good point,” you mutter, moving to stand next to him. 

He straddles the seat and looks over expectantly at you. “Don’t you need a helmet?”

You shake your head, “Oh, no, it’ll ruin my hair.” You laugh but he gives you a deadpan look. You don’t regenerate the way he does. An accident would be a lot more fatal for you than it would be for him. You huff, “Relax, Lo, I can use my powers.” When he looks like he’s not going to drop it, you let some energy swirl around your fingers. It solidifies the air around your skin, you reach up and flick at his skull hard enough to hear the metal ding. 

He grunts, glaring down at your hand while you grin. “See,” you whisper, sliding onto the back of the bike and wrapping your arms around his waist. “I’m perfectly safe.” He shakes his head and starts the bike. 

The ride to the arcade is spent in silence. Logan always seems to break every speeding law known to man whenever he takes Scott’s bike out. You’re not sure if he does it to purposefully piss the man off, but it makes you cling to him like a wild animal. You feel like if you hit one speed bump you’re going to go flying. 

By the time he parks your legs feel like jello. He laughs a little at the way your face has blanched. Again, he offers you a hand and holds the door open to lead you inside. You’re trying not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but this whole thing is odd. 

You guys are friends. And you’re friendlier with each other than most of the mutants in the school. But this feels different somehow. For one, Logan kind of despises the arcade. It’s an amalgamation of bad smells and loud noises, and it overwhelms his already sensitive senses. You’ve heard him complain about the smell of body odor and fake cheese enough times when you went on a field trip with the kids. 

Secondly, he’s being more touchy than he normally would. You’re not complaining. You weren’t exactly hugged a lot as a kid, mainly just passed between different mutant fetish clubs. Logan isn’t known for handing hugs out so easily. But right now, he doesn’t seem to be ready to not have at least one hand on you. 

Maybe he’s just cheering you up. You need to stop drifting so far into your mind and just enjoy the night. “Alright, what’s first bub?”

You grin and drag him towards the claw machine. “I’m horrible at these things,” you inform him as you put your quarters in. “But, I hold out hope that one day I’ll be able to actually beat this monster.”

Three failed attempts later, it’s become embarrassingly clear that you will never beat the claw machine. Logan isn’t even trying to hide his amusement as you become increasingly more frustrated. There’s a certain point where this game stops being fun and starts to be an affront to your character. 

Logan peers into the machine and asks, “What are you going for?”

“The pigeon,” you mutter. Your tongue pokes between your lips, and your eyes narrow in concentration. You aim the claw over the pigeon perfectly and slam your hand down on the big red button. 

You’re allowed five seconds of celebration before the damn thing slips out of the claws grasp and tumbles into the pile of stuffies below. “Dammit, Bart,” you let the ridiculous name you’ve come up with for the toy slip.

Logan snorts, leaning against the glass while you jam another quarter in the slot. “Bart?” He teases. 

You shake your head and give him a look out the side of your eye. “What, you think I call myself Flux because I’m good at coming up with names?” You give up after the last failed attempt and turn to face him with a huff. 

He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Tough luck, kid.” He slings an arm over your shoulder and pulls you towards the concession stand. 

“Shut up,” you laugh, slapping lightly at his chest. 

The rest of the night is nice. He doesn’t play much except for the strength-oriented games. And then you kind of just exploit him for more tickets. By the time you get back to the mansion, you’ve forgotten all about why you were upset in the first place. 

Nothing had gone wrong, you didn’t have a total meltdown and wipe out the entire arcade. You don’t know why Charles was so afraid of letting you out. 

Logan walks you back to your room, his hand heavy on your lower back as you head up the stairs. You’re talking endlessly, filling up any gap of silence with rambling you’ve lost track of. You don’t know what it is about him that invites you to yap the way you do, but you’re always embarrassed by it the second he leaves. 

You reach your door and smile up at him. “Thanks, Lo.”

He gives you a soft smile, his eyes wrinkling endearingly at the corners. He reaches up and brushes some hair off your shoulder. There’s a certain shift in his expression that has your breath stopping short. Whatever else you were going to say to him tumbles off into an incomprehensible whisper. 

He leans down and every inappropriate thought you’ve ever had about him suddenly surges to the front of your mind. Your lips part in anticipation, thinking he’s going to kiss you and your fantasies are going to come to life. 

His lips brush against your cheek so gently you almost don’t feel them. “‘Night Flux,” he leans back and your body goes with him. He backs off with a smile, walking down the hall to his own room. You feel dazed, eyelashes fluttering rapidly as you fan your cheeks and try to come to terms with what just happened.

He didn’t kiss you, but you oddly aren’t disappointed. You go to bed that night with a lovesick grin on your face. Well, you would have. Were it not for the annoyingly British voice ringing out in your head, “Training’s at four tomorrow morning. Consider it your punishment for sneaking out.”

“Fuck,” you hiss to yourself. Stupid fucking telepaths. 

You thought the arcade was a one-off moment. But Logan keeps sneaking you out of the mansion. Charles hasn’t officially lifted the house arrest, but he’s given up trying to keep you inside. Besides, you’ve essentially got a chaperone since Logan is always with you. 

You make lunch for the two of you and he’ll take you out to the woods for a picnic. Or you’ll go to the movies together. Sometimes you don’t even do anything, just linger around each other. You enjoy the company, and you love having these quiet moments together with no one else around. 

Your favorite part of all of this has to be the way he’s started touching you. He’s always got a hand on your leg or back. And if he can’t do that, then you’re tucked into his side. It’s feeding into a starved part of you that you’ve left neglected for far too long. 

It’s only been about two weeks of these fun little adventures and odd behavior. You’re dreading the moment they’ll stop. You’re not sure when Logan’s going to deem you properly cheered up, but you’re hoping it’s not anytime soon. 

There have been a few more moments where you think your friendship might turn into something more, and every time you’ve been interrupted. You’re actually starting to feel a little edged. You’ve been considering just grabbing him and planting one on him. But every time you think about it you get sick to your stomach. 

You don’t want to make a move on him and end up getting rejected. You know he’s just being a good friend and taking care of you so you don’t end up spiraling too far in your head. It’s happened before, when you’ve been struggling with your abilities. He’s just keeping you from shutting down again and you don’t want to make him uncomfortable because you’re hopelessly in love. 

When you walk out of your room this morning you’re immediately smacked in the face. “What the fuck, guys?” You yell at the two kids running past your room. Not the best language for someone who's supposed to be a role model. You can’t be bothered though, not when they’re running around throwing pink rolls of streamer at your face. 

“Sorry!” Mary calls over her shoulder, laughing as she pins a heart up onto the wall. You’re sure Charles won’t appreciate the hole in his old ass mahogany wood. It’s only as you watch her run down the stairs that you register just what is going on. 

There is pink and red everywhere. It looks like Dollar Store Cupid has thrown up all over the mansion. You’ve been so caught up in your attraction to Logan that, ironically, you’ve forgotten what month it was. 

You grumble bitterly to yourself as you trudge down the stairs. Another Valentine’s Day alone and single. How lovely. You spot two kids giggling to themselves by the banister, they lean in like they’re going to kiss and you gag. “Hey!” You snap, and they jump apart, eyes wide with fear. “Quit it, get out of here.” They scramble off and you feel just a little bit vindicated. 

“Not a fan of young love, Flux?”

You groan and roll your eyes, turning around to find a very smug Scott watching you bully teenagers. “Shut it, Summers,” you warn. You point an accusing finger at him and he raises his hands in surrender. Faux innocence played across his insufferable smirk. “When you’re in a committed relationship, you don’t get to judge me.”

His brows turn down in confusion, “Wait, but aren’t you and Logan-”

He’s cut off by the sound of a loud crash down the hall. You both turn around just as one of the classroom doors slams open. A bright pink explosion hurtles from the doors and a throng of coughing students follows. 

Jubilee walks out a minute later, a guilty expression on her face. “Sorry, I was just trying to make it more Vanetine-y.” 

You glance over at Scott, grinning widely at him while you pat his shoulder and walk past him, leaving him to clean up the mess. “Enjoy the young love, Summers.”

You actively avoid Logan all day. You’re already facing constant reminders of how lonely you are. You see kids walking around with baskets of bears and chocolates. Or you catch them passing notes in class with scribbled hearts all over the front. 

There’s only so much a girl can take before she loses it. The last thing you need is to be faced with the man you have the worst unrequited crush on in history. But he doesn’t seem to get the hint. He’s everywhere you go, popping up around corners and trying to catch your attention. 

You keep brushing him off and pretending like you have something urgent you’re going to be late for. Eventually, though, he was going to catch up with you. 

It happens in the kitchen. Most of the kids are in their rooms or the library. The noise has died down and you’re alone. You grumble to yourself, ripping down a pink streamer that keeps drifting across the top of your head and pissing you off. You grab a frozen meal from the fridge and are about to microwave it when he speaks. 

“Huh, thought you’d want something a little more romantic than a frozen burrito.” 

You gasp, clutching your chest and whirling around on him while your heart races. “Logan, Jesus, you scared me.” He’s frowning at you, eyes glaring at the frozen package in your hand. “Um,” you toss it back in the freezer but the look on his face isn’t going away. “Yeah, I might just go with cereal instead.”

He looks at you and then glances behind him. You peer around his shoulder but you don’t see anything. Without much warning, he grabs your wrist and pulls you towards the stairs. “Logan?” There’s no point in trying to resist him, he could just toss you up the stairs if he wanted to. Still, the silence is kind of creeping you out. 

You call his name a few more times but give up when he makes it clear he’s not going to be answering you anytime. There’s a rotten feeling in your stomach. You have this awful idea like you’re in trouble for something. Like a little girl who's gotten her hand caught in the cookie jar too many times. 

He stops you in front of his door and nods towards it. “You want me to go inside?” He crosses his arms and glares down at you. You huff and mutter, “Jesus, fine.” What the hell is wrong with him?

You grab the doorknob to his room, glaring at him while you do. You throw the door open dramatically, taking a step inside and surveying the area. “Wow,” you suck your teeth and shake your head. “You have not decorated at all.”

“Shut up, smartass,” he mutters in your ear. Chills prick at your skin from his proximity. A shudder goes down your spine as the low tone of his voice reverberates through you. “Look a little harder.”

You roll your eyes but acquiesce. Another run over the room finally shows you what you missed. You gasp and rush towards his bed, “Holy shit, Bart!” He chuckles behind you as you pick the stuffed pigeon up. 

“Went back for him after we left,” Logan tells you. 

You glare at him, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “How many tries did this take you?” He mouths a smug one and you roll your eyes in irritation. You look back down at the pigeon and smile.

He smells like the inside of a claw machine. His head is sewed on crookedly and you’re pretty sure he’s missing an eye. But he’s absolutely perfect to you. You’re about to thank Logan when you spot something metal wrapped around the stuffie’s neck. “What’s this,” you mumble to yourself. 

You slide your fingers under the chain and tug it off Bart’s neck. Logan’s dog tags dangle off your fingers and you stare at him in shock. A sudden cold dread washes over you and you find yourself immobile. “Logan,” you trail off, an unspoken question following his name. 

He smirks, walking towards you and slipping the tags out of your hand. “I wanted you to have this,” he says, his voice low like this moment is too precious to break, “so you know you’re not alone. You’re always so afraid of what’s going to happen if you lose control out in the field. But you forget, you’re not alone. You have me, you’re always going to have me.” He places the tags over your neck, untucking your hair from the chain. 

You don’t even have words for him. It’s such a deeply personal gift. But this also feels incredibly intimate. There’s no possible way for you to reason this away. This isn’t something “just friends” do. 

He seems to prefer your silence, anyway. One of his hands drifts from your neck and cups your jaw. With the utmost tenderness, he lifts your face to his. “Wanted to do this for a while,” he whispers. You almost ask what he’s talking about, but his lips are already covering yours. 

It’s incredibly soft, this kiss, softer than you’re used to. He’s barely putting any pressure on you and it makes you realize that you’re still not moving. You’re just standing there in shock, eyes wide open while the man you’ve wanted since you’ve known him kisses you. 

You drop Bart to the floor and your arms come up to twine around his neck. You finally close your eyes, let your body melt into his knowing he’ll catch you. The second you reciprocate he really kisses you. Neither of you hold back, each of you pouring all the pent-up desire you’ve felt for each other. 

You’ve spent so long dancing around this, around each other. It’s like a missing puzzle piece is returned to you as Logan holds you. You feel full, complete, warmer than you ever have before. 

You part from him - needing air - painfully slow. You don’t want to spend a second away from him now that you have him. You wish you didn’t have to breathe. Wished you could have kept kissing him and never stopped. 

Logan chuckles, pressing a kiss against your forehead like he can read your thoughts. You can feel the dorky smile that’s about to split your cheeks. You bite your lip, hoping it might suppress it, but you know it’s pointless. 

You look up at him with a cheeky twinkle in your eye. “Are you asking me to be your Valentine, Lo?”

He scoffs and pulls away from you slightly. “Do you have to ask your girlfriend to be your Valentine?”

Your eyes widen and your mouth opens and closes rapidly. “I- Well- I mean,” you take a full step back from him and shake your head. “What?” You finally settle on. “I mean, I’m not objecting, at all, but what?”

Logan tilts his head, a disbelieving look on his face. “What do you think we’ve been doing the past three weeks?”

You shake your head, stuttering and struggling for an answer. “I don’t know. I thought you were being a good friend!”

He smiles, there’s no irritation on his face at your cluelessness. If anything he seems to be more endeared to you. “You think I take all my friends on romantic picnics in the woods?”

You sigh, letting out a long disappointed breath. You can’t believe you’ve been so blind. When you think about it, his behavior lately makes a lot more sense. You’re not sure how you were able to trick yourself for so long. 

“Well,” you start, walking back towards him as he pulls you into a hug, “certainly not Scott.” He huffs and shakes his head. You give him a sheepish smile, brows knitted together. “I can’t believe we’ve been dating this whole time.”

He just presses another kiss to your temple and shrugs. “It’s alright, sweetheart, you can make it up to me by being my Valentine again next year.”

There’s something unspoken in his voice. A promise that he’s planning to be around for a lot longer than a year. You smile at him, silently promising the same. “Only if you’re mine.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

a/n: i’m gonna gag actually. Made myself cringe there at the end. I want a valentine next year so bad, it’s sad. But what’s the point of a valentine if it’s not going to be Logan?

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

dividers by @/thecutestgrotto

[lawofangie]

some things i've manifested

these are some basic stories, but i have some "crazy" ones i might share if you guys want lol

note: before manifesting i used to have a pretty "normal" life. i was conventionally attractive, middle classs, etc. i didn't really "need" anything but a social life and better grades. regardless of that, i just manifested whatever i wanted and didn't limit myself. i also added a few little stories behind them.

appearance change:

changed my hair texture to curly

grew from 5'2 to 5'6

clear, even skin and skin tone (tbh i already had a really good skincare routine, my skin was super clear bc of that BUT my face used to be like 10 shades darker than the rest of my body and i had CRAZY backne and strawberry legs)

losing 30 pounds (i used to be 72kg, now i'm 58kg)

changed my shoe size (i used to be size 9 now i'm size 7)

changed my hand size (for reference, my hands used to be a little longer than my phone, i had a "pro max" sized phone.)

social life:

having good friends in my state (im from up north and was completely lonely in the state i live in now)

popularity (i used to be pretty irrelevant but now everybody likes me and wants to be around me)

getting my sp's (i manifested them from scratch and took inspired action to meet them)

having people crush on me more overtly/ getting approached more (this is kind of a weird one, before my appearance change i was pretty attractive like maybe a 7/10, but i got tired of people just ogling me and not approaching me. i only had the unattractive and overconfident guys approaching me, all the attractive ones just stared lol)

just being likable lol (people used to feel threatened by me or feel like i was standoffish for some reason. idrk tbh but it was VERY annoying. i literally used to get accused of "acting like i own the place" for being quiet and just existing 💀. i didn't really care what they thought, but i hated when they complained about it and tried to make it my problem.)

school:

higher gpa (i used to have a 3.0 but i manifested a 3.8, which is a weighted 4.0)

high grades (i used to fail many tests/exams and have a mix of a, b, and c's. now they're all a's)

dream college acceptance

teachers liking me (they actually used to hate my guts it was so annoying 😭)

school crushes liking me back (tbh they probably thought i was already attractive but they never spoke to me or seemed like they wanted to get to know me)

leaving early (my school day ends at like 12 now)

lifestyle:

living closer to the city

having my dream routine (i have my dream skincare products, haircare products, diet, and health routines.)

having a high self concept (tbh i technically always did, i knew what i wanted and deserved. i just felt more like i was being injusticed. so i got rid of the "unwilling victim" mentality. i also used to ruminate on irrelevant things, like mistakes i made, what people thought of me, etc.)

very high confidence (in my looks, abilities, judgement, etc.)

money for my parents and myself

having a busy, productive life (i used to hate school because my grades weren't contributing to anything i wanted to do in life, so i wanted a productive life outside of that.)

always getting my way

getting all sorts of things for free

and more!

i'd say this all took me around 2-3 months, not because manifesting takes time, but because i assumed a lot of things would take time. i also had periods of doubt in myself and tried to handle things in the 3d on my own for some time.. which obviously didn't work. still, all i did was assume and accept these things as true and they happened overnight, in a day, or within that week. the longest anything's taken me is like 7 days, and that was because i kept wavering in my mind. manifestation is truly instant.

but anyways, i hope this is motivational and helpful. i do have some pretty "ridiculous" stories like some revenge stories, "crazy" stories regarding sp's, some not very appropriate stories, really good things happening to me, and others.

thanks for reading! i hope this helps. 🩶

[uzurakis]

jjk men w gf who’s overly sensitive and they said something that hurt her feelings? ^___^

FALLING INTO ARGUMENTS?!

featuring: megumi fushiguro. gojo satoru. itadori yuuji. geto suguru.

n. nonnie, allow me to spice your req a bit by make them getting into arguments which hurts your feelings in the process. sorry it took a longer time to write this cause i really don’t want to mess their characterization on this one t—t you also didn’t say i need to end it with comfort so…

GOJO SATORU.

the atmosphere was heavy with tension, as if every breath you took stirred up a storm of unresolved emotions. the soft glow of the desk lamp cast long shadows across the room, accentuating the lines of frustration etched into gojo satoru’s face. his piercing gaze fixed into yours, a silent challenge hanging between both like a veil of uncertainty.

as you stood before him, the weight of his dismissive words bore down on you like a crushing weight. it was as if every syllable was a dagger aimed straight at your heart, each one leaving a deep, painful wound that threatened.

you cried out, "i can help, satoru," your voice quivering with a mix of hurt and desperation. "please, just let me help you."

however, his reply felt akin to a blow to the face. "i don’t need your help, alright?" he yelled, his voice snapping like a whip. "i've got this covered myself.”

the words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating, filling the space between you guys with a palpable sense of defeat.

you begged, your voice almost audible, "but satoru, we're supposed to be in this together. i thought you trusted me. isn't that what relationships are built out of?”. nevertheless, his expression remained impassive, a mask of indifference that hid the pain lurking beneath the surface. “trust has nothing to do with it," he replied, voice colder than you had ever heard it before. "i do better alone."

with those comments, the abyss between you and gojo deepened, threatening to swallow both whole. then as you turned to leave his room, the weight of his rejection settled like a stone in your gut, leaving only a hollow ache and the bitter taste of regret.

the silence of the room was deafening, broken only by the soft hum of the air conditioning and the steady rhythm of his own heartbeat. every fiber of his being screamed for him to go after you, to swallow his pride and beg for your forgiveness, but something held him back, he didn’t want to pull you into his mess any further.

with a heavy sigh, gojo sank into his chair, his shoulders slumping in defeat as he let out a long, ragged breath. the weight of his actions settled on him like a leaden blanket, suffocating him with its suffocating embrace.

tears threatened to spill from his eyes, but he blinked them back, refusing to let himself break down in the face of his own weakness. he had always prided himself on his strength, on his ability to handle any situation with ease and confidence, but now, in the aftermath of this argument, he felt more vulnerable than ever before.

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO

"are you okay, megumi?" you asked softly as you reached out to touch his shoulder.

his usually calm demeanor was replaced by a tense energy that crackled in the air, setting your nerves on edge as he flinched away from your touch, his expression hardening as he turned to face you.

he snapped, "i'm fine," in a tone that was unlike anything you had ever heard. "stop asking me that."

the words were like a slap to the face, leaving you feeling with hurt and confusion. all you had wanted was to help him, to ease the burden he carried on his shoulders, but instead, you found myself faced with a wall of anger and resentment.

you tried to protest whilst trembling with suppressed emotions. "you know you can always talk to me, right? you don't have to go through this alone." yet he shook his head, his eyes dark with pain as he pushed you away. "i said i'm fine!” insisted, tone slightly went higher. "just leave me alone."

the tears threatened to spill over, but you just held it down and bit your lips. with a heavy heart, you turned and left his room.

as the door closed behind you, megumi let out a frustrated growl, the sound muffled by the empty room. he cursed himself silently, his hands clenching into fists at his sides as the weight of his harsh words settled heavily on his shoulders.

"damn it," he muttered under his breath, very much thick with regret. "fuck you, fushiguro.”

the memory of your hurt expression haunted him, a reminder of the pain he had caused with his thoughtless words. he had never meant to hurt you, never intended to push you away, but in his fear and uncertainty, he had lashed out without thinking, building walls around himself to keep you out.

now, as he stood alone in the quiet solitude of his room, he realized the magnitude of his mistake. he had pushed away the one person who had always been there for him, the one person who had never given up on him, and now he was left to face the consequences of his actions.

with a heavy sigh, the man sank onto his bed, running a hand through his hair as he tried to make sense of the mess he had created. he knew that he needed to apologize, to make things right, but the thought of facing you again filled him with a sense of dread.

ITADORI YUUJI

under the soft glow of streetlights, yuuji and you found yourselves standing at the edge of a heated argument that threatened to consume the bond between you. the cool night air was heavy with tension, each word you and he exchanged hanging in the air like a cloud of unresolved emotions.

"i just wish you would trust me, yuuji." you said, sounding frustrated as you looked for any indication that he might understand.

however, he shook his head, his expression stubborn and closed off. "i do trust you, but this is different. i need to handle this on my own, babe.”

his remarks pierce deeply. it seemed that he was shutting you down even though all you wanted to do was to help him. you looked at yuuji and said, "i can't just watch you struggle."

"just, give me some time alone, okay?”

the hurt in his voice mirrored your own. as you watched him walk away, the sting of his words lingered like a bitter taste in your mouth. just as you turned to leave, you heard him call out your name, his voice filled with panic and regret. "wait! baby, i'm sorry. i didn't mean it like that."

you turned back to face him, the ache in your chest easing slightly at the sight of his vulnerability. in that moment, you understood that beneath his tough exterior, he was just as scared and uncertain as you were.

"it's okay, yuuji," you calmed him down, reaching out to take his hand in yours. "we'll figure this out together."

GETO SUGURU

you couldn't stand idly by as suguru pushed himself into further depression from time and time again, and tonight, you had finally reached your breaking point.

"suguru, you need to take better care of yourself," you begged, tinged with frustration and concern. "you can't keep treating yourself like this."

“is there really nothing i can do to help you?”

only he scoffed at your worries, waving off your concerns with a dismissive gesture, expression stubborn and unyielding. "i'm fine, babe.” with a deep sigh, geto suguru pointed out, "and what would you know about my problems, huh?" he reacted with resentment.

those words cut deep, leaving you mourning with hurt and disbelief.

"suguru..” you claimed, “do you really think i would just stand there as you destroy yourself? when you mean so much to me?”

his eyes softened at your words, a flicker of regret passing over his features before he shook his head, expression hardening as he turned away from you. "i don't need your help," he spat.

“i can take care of myself."

the finality of his words hung in the air like a heavy weight, crushing the last vestiges of hope that lingered in.

"fuck, i'm sorry," he murmured right before you decided to walk away. "i didn't mean to worry you."

“i, i just don’t know what to do with myself. shit, i’m so sorry.”

you turned back to face him, tears welling in your eyes as he crossed the room to pull you into a tight embrace. his familiar arms curled around you, providing comfort and warmth despite the tension. you could feel his heartbeat against yours, a rhythm that expressed both guilt and tenderness. at last, words were unnecessary as you allowed the quiet to envelope both, saying more than any apology could.

@uzurakis — requests are open! <3

[witherby]

i need more damian x mer!reader plssss😞😞😞 im literally OBSESSED with it

YOU'RE ALL SUCH SWEETIES!!! Ok gang, just for you 🩷

⚠️ HEADS UP: this part features conflict. There's blood, some unintentional self harm, language barriers, and general chaos! ⚠️

Human!Damian x Mer!Reader Part 4

Click to read parts 1, 2, and 3 here!

There's another rock sitting on the lip of the tank — one of the painted, water-safe ones they let you have — when Damian and Bruce arrive for dinner.

It's the weekend, meaning the aquarium is closed, and it takes a little more smacking on the surface of the water than usual for you to pop up. You shoot Bruce a disinterested glance, his presence vaguely familiar, then chirp sleepily at Damian, evidently having been awoken from a nap.

"Hey, Pr—" Damian catches himself and fakes a cough, then addresses you by your actual name. You furrow your brow, irritated, but still reach forward to take the offered bucket.

Holding it carefully in one arm, your other, webbed hand nudges the rock into Damian's lap. Damian pockets it with an easy nod, signing Thank You. Delighted, you offer him some crab after splitting the shell open with your teeth. He declines. Oh well; more for you!

Eating in front of Damian is little issue, but having Bruce stare at you so intently makes you turn away, hugging the food to your chest and rumbling quietly. Conversation floats in the air behind you.

" — might already be bonded. How often...swim together?"

"At least twice a....insisted it wasn't harming...wouldn't if I realized...promise."

Hmm. Your mate-to-be sounds upset. You dislike that greatly. You spit a half-chewed carp back into the bucket.

"Damian, I know...not mad at you for...unprecedented, you understand that, right? This...to a wild animal...vastly unintelligent..."

You growled and spun back around, tail swishing around fast enough to make the surface of the tank slightly choppy. Unintelligent?! Who was unintelligent? You learned every stupid spin, squeak, and trick you'd been taught! And your Damian was the brightest, kindest, most special caretaker in this whole place!

Bruce looks at you in confusion. Damian looks at you with awe, because he knows you're smart enough to pick up on the gist of most things, like the conversation they're having with each other. English is not your mother tongue, but you are learning, slowly and steadily. Because you are not unintelligent!

You bare your teeth, snapping them twice at Bruce, and firmly push the half-empty bucket over the lip of the tank. It clatters to the floor, the metal twang echoing around the room loud enough to make your head-fins flatten. Both land creatures jump back to avoid getting fish guts all over their legs (a word you learned recently, because you're very smart!), but Damian comes back to the edge of the tank to soothe you quickly.

"Easy, Princess," he mutters, the nickname slipping out this time. You preen and rest your chin on his extended palm, blinking up at his beautiful, green eyes. Your tail stops swishing as hard, and he seems to ease up at the same time you do. Reading your physical cues and responding accordingly is one of the reasons Damian quickly became your favorite, and this demonstration only hits that nail on the head. "Everything is just fine. Father and I are simply talking." He gestures to your discarded dinner. "Do you want any more?"

You huff and turn your face away. Damian takes your dismissal for what it really is and looks at Bruce next.

"You should apologize."

His father's eyes widen. "For what? I didn't throw a bucket on the ground."

"For the slight regarding their cognitive ability. You hurt their feelings." Damian sounds offended on your behalf. It makes something in your chest thrum pleasantly. "I'll fetch a broom for the mess while you say you're sorry."

"I can grab the broom —" one sharp look from his son quiets Bruce down immediately. You and he both watch Damian leave the room, then the human regards you warily while you regard him with a scowl.

Bruce tries to approach the tank. You bare your teeth and he stops. Good human. Good, rude human. Do not approach. You are very scary and fearsome. You might just use your teeth for something more than food if sufficiently provoked.

"You really can understand me, can't you?" He asks, almost rhetorically. The flat look you give him makes his cheeks flush with color. "You can. That's...fascinating. I've skimmed your file of course — I co-run the aquarium, I have to be knowledgeable of all the animals — but I obviously don't know you like my son does."

Ugh. This land creature uses small words. Damian uses big words, which helps you learn faster even if it's more difficult to latch onto what he's talking about.

Bruce calls your name again, and your eyes snap to his. He looks less embarrassed and more curious. More like he's recognizing you as a being capable of proper thought and not some dumb, prey animal in a big play pen. Something in you becomes less tense.

"I'm sorry," he finally says. "Really. I'm coming from a place of concern, is all. I never intended to hurt your feelings. You mean a lot to my son, and the feeling seems to be mutual. My concern is just...the extent of the feeling. Damian doesn't have many human friends, and hiring him on to help manage the aquarium hasn't encouraged him in that regard. I just don't...I just want him to..."

He trails off and sighs. This time, when Bruce tries to take a step closer, you keep your teeth hidden behind your lips. He perches on the lip of the tank to look at you, blue eyes taking in all your aquatic features. They're pretty, reminding you of the water, but not as pretty as Damian's.

Just for fun, you puff up and flare out all of your fins just to see him flinch back. Your chirping laughter makes Bruce crack his own smile, and he shakes his head.

"I understand why he adores you," he mutters, something fond in his tone. You sway back and forth in the water with a prideful trill. Obviously you adore him back. That's why you gave him your scales, to prove your devotion. As soon as Damian gives you something valuable back, you'll be life-mates! You're so excited!

"I think... I think that's the biggest reason why I have to separate you two."

You freeze when your brain processes what he just said. Damian reenters the room at that moment, carrying a broom and dust pan to sweep up your abandoned meal.

"Those imbecilic interns moved the cleaning supplies again," he scowls, taking care of the food with a shake of his head. "I swear, father, no one knows how to put anything back in this facility. Some days it feels like Tim and I are the only competent people here."

"And your old man, right?" Says Bruce, rising to his feet. Damian doesn't answer that. "Oh, ouch." His teasing tone shifts, becomes earnest and quiet. "You know I only want what's best for you, right, Tadpole?"

"I know," the boy sighs, dumping the food into a nearby garbage can. He turns to face you, smiling, until he sees the fear on your face. "Something wrong?"

You click your tongue and whistle imploringly, lifting a hand out of the water to beckon him closer. Damian moves to comply, but Bruce's hand curling around his arm impedes his progress. You immediately whistle again, more insistent. More distressed.

"Father, let go, they're upset by something. Let me —"

"I can't do that, kiddo," Bruce frowns, firmly but not unkindly. "I'm reassigning them a new primary caretaker. The emotional attachment to you is too detrimental to their life here."

Damian's eyes widen. "You're not serious."

He tries to yank his arm out of Bruce's grip, but the man is taller and stronger than his son. He wraps his other arm around Damian's waist, guiding him towards the doors.

"Father, let go of me! This is not — everything is fine! I-I won't swim in the tank anymore, I won't physically touch them anymore, I promise! Don't do this!"

Your trilling becomes sharper as you note the distress in your beloved's voice. You throw your arms up to the edge of the tank and try to hoist yourself over, but you've never done it without the help of a caretaker, and you slip back into the water with a rough splash. Undeterred, you flick your tail to give you more momentum, scrabbling against the smooth, concrete edge and crooning for Damian.

You see his vibrant, green eyes, focused on you and glittering like your scales. They've never looked so shiny. Instinctively, you know this isn't a positive trait for a land creature to have.

"Stop, please stop! Look at them, they'll get hurt if you take me away," Damian insists, thrashing against his dad. Bruce hangs on tighter, almost dragging him at this point. "Don't — don't, Baba, please, I'm not hurting them at all, I'll figure out how to break off the engagement, I'll do whatever you want!"

"Calm down, Damian," Bruce murmurs, "please, we're gonna talk about this, I promise, but right now you need to —"

Both of them startle when you finally jump out of the tank, hitting the floor with a heavy thud. The hard surface scrapes against your skin and scales in a distinctly uncomfortable way, but you ignore it and start dragging your body towards Damian. Your arms buckle under the strain of maneuvering yourself out of the water, and the flopping of your long, heavy tail isn't helping as much as you'd hoped.

Bruce yanks Damian behind him protectively and pulls a radio off his hip. You hiss and snarl, offended that he would dare think you'd hurt him. Damian tries to duck out from under him, calling to you with obvious concern.

You croon back, the sound low and warbly in your anger, and lunge for him. Scales get scraped painfully off of your tail, leaving a trail of red that you pay no mind. Bruce dodges your clumsy attempts and hoists Damian up by the waist so he doesn't break away either. More of your caretakers burst through the doors, one of them holding a funny, shiny contraption, and there's lots more yelling. They all look as panicked and distressed as you feel.

Good. They should know how much pain they're causing by taking away your precious Damian.

One of the caretakers — named Clark, you think; he comes around mostly to do your health checkups — crouches low and flashes his palms in a show of no ill intent. You reach out with your own palm and lurch forward again, shoving him out of your way. He will not impede you. None of them will.

More scales litter the concrete, stained red with blood. The shiny contraption held in another person's hands — Dick, the loud one you remember — makes a sharp popping noise, and you feel something stab your shoulder.

You flinch back momentarily, palming at it. Damian's distressed yelling reaches a crescendo, and you feel compelled to meet it.

Your jaw clicks from stretching your mouth open so wide. Instinct and rage guide you to draw breath, deeper than you ever have, and bellow.

The resulting sound is a haunting wail, piercing the air around you and making the water in the tank ripple, making the land creatures cry and cover their ears, making the windows rattle and warp. You wail and cry and scream at the injustice, at the audacity of these people to take from you what is yours. You want it back. You want him back. You want Damian!

You see Clark buckle and clutch at his head. You see Dick drop the shiny device that hurt you. You see Bruce grit his teeth and cover one ear, the other busy holding onto Damian.

You see Damian pressing his hands to his ears. You see water running down his face. You see him looking at you with a mixture of fear and upset.

Your mouth falls closed with a snap of your teeth, startled and ashamed. You had hurt Damian. You hurt him and he was scared of you now.

That was not supposed to happen. You didn't mean it.

What have you done?

There's movement in your periphery you pay no mind to. Your back lights up with pain in two more places, and the world slowly starts to spin and lose focus. You stop resisting and slump to the floor, eyes drooping as you continue to look forlornly at Damian.

Damian, who looks back as more tears run down his face. Damian, who is screaming again. Damian, who vanishes through the doors that Bruce finally drags him off to.

You warble miserably and close your eyes, letting the sedatives take you away into a fitful slumber.

[dontbesoweirdkira]

How would Platonic! Yan! Batfamily react to Reader with Narcolepsy?

A/N:Thank you for requesting. I hope I did okay with this, please respectfully correct me if I got anything wrong or unintentionally offensive with this as I do not suffer from narcolepsy.

Warnings: Toxic and abusive family dynamics, infantalization, medication tampering, worsening issues

Masterlist

Requests: always open

Oh my gosh that would be the worse thing to deal with in a Yan! family. Especially with one as affectionate as them.

Can you imagine trying to avoid Dick or Tim but just falling right asleep in their arms from the stress...then when you wake up moments later, they aren't allowing you to leave their grasp...oh how terrifying that'd be.

Anyways, they are rather attentive to your needs and observant. If one of the siblings notice that you are showing signs that you will abruptly collapse, they will rush over and quickly guide you to a safe area where you can rest.

The family is very strict on not giving you certain tasks that may be hard on your body. Especially if you deal with cataplexy. If you need help with moving something, or completing a task, just ask someone. They will be very upset if you get yourself hurt.

The down side of not having great muscle control or overall weakness is the constant babying. They treat you as if you were made out of glass. It can be quite annoying when you need to strengthen your muscles even if it's very difficult for you. They also might enjoy keeping you weak and vulnerable because you have less of a chance to escape and no real ability to fight back. You are far to precious to not be in their care.

Your family is strict about not allowing you to hang out with friends and staying only in the home. Occasionally they'll allow you to have a supervised visit. They even may force you to take up schooling at home and you're not allowed to work. It's all far too dangerous when they aren't near to assist you. You cannot trust anyone outside of them.

If you suffer with hallucinations, whether that may be audio or visual, they will be very understanding. You aren't the only one in the family to suffer with symptoms like such. Many days Jason and Bruce are struggling with those things. I can't imagine anyone would poke fun, they'd just redirect you.

But his can kind of suck given that sometimes you cannot tell if something that happened was real or not. Your family may say that you were just having a hallucination but you swear that you heard them talking about tampering with your meds.

Speaking of such, they most definitely do. The medicine that is supposed to help with your EDS seems to have the opposite effect on you. Some days it seems like you've been sleeping for weeks. You swore that you feel asleep in the living room...why are you now in an entirely different sect of the mansion..???

If you suffer with memory issues, that will be a huge problem because so many things they get away with or manipulate you about and because you have no recollection of any events..you are just forced to go with it, even if your gut says something is wrong.

Sometimes the family can get a bit worried if you are up all night..they worry you might wonder off or get hurt while they are either on patrol or sleeping so one designated person must be up with you at all times.

Even when you're sleeping. Someone is monitoring you and your health. Usually Alfred or one of the siblings if they are free.

Often Tim will take the shift since he is usually home and doing work anyways. Too many times have you randomly woken up in his dark room with him in the corner watching you.

Your constant fatigue is an excuse your siblings may use to just carry you around without your consent. Yes, you were struggling up the stairs. but no. you didn't really want Dick to just come and pick you up and carry you around the house like a pet. It's worse when it's Jason because he throws you over his shoulder...he's working on it.

Alfred has a specialty diet for you, which kind of sucks sometimes when the others are eating your favorites. But it's for the best he tells you. It's supposed to help with your symptoms but...every time you eat his cooking, you just feel sick then super drowsy..Alfred says it's the adjustment period to the new diet..but you can't shake the feeling that the food is worsening your conditions

[jezabelle9299]

You're It for me S.R x FEM! reader

Overture- Your walking through a used bookstore when you spot an old magazine with your boyfriends face on the cover-- not for his academic ability

CWs- Comparison to Lila Archer, feeling replaceable, this is diet angst- I don't have the guts or skill for the truly heart wrenching, kissing

A/N- I was kind of picturing an early season 2 Spencer? Like they've been dating for a while, but like-- not more than maybe 2 years, so they're still a little bit nervous. Also this is the first of many things I'm doing this December so hopefully everything goes well and if you want to read any of the other things I'm doing you could do so HERE

Right in your favorite used bookstore, on top of some other old magazines, there it was. It caught your eye at first because of the vibrant photo— but when you stopped to look you saw a beautiful young actress rubbing her face onto your wonderful boyfriend's hand. You felt sick, but you pushed through it to buy the stupid thing so you could read it. 

You barely made it through the checkout line, pale as a ghost and wishing you’d never walked in there. Because why didn’t he tell you? The publishing date was only months before you started dating and he hated touch. Was this a long relationship? An intimate moment no one else was supposed to see?

By the time you got to your car you’d ripped the plastic covering off the magazine opening up the article about Lila Archer. You hadn’t really heard of her before, but she was gorgeous. The more you read about the ‘secret relationship’ between her and Spencer the more upset you got— until in one of the final sentences it said one of their reporters found them in a pool—fully clothed—making out. Spencer. Your germaphobic boyfriend who was nervous about so much as touching you in passing for your first 3 dates jumped into a pool to make out with someone he couldn’t have known for that long.

You sat on the couch in your apartment after a silent ride home. Spencer was supposed to meet you to spend some time together, he’d be landing any minute– but it was all you could do not to cry. It was before you were dating but you just felt– Insecure? Replaceable? You weren’t quite sure, but comparison stole your joy and left you with nothing but a sour mood and a boyfriend on his way to see you– one who was qualified to notice that you were upset nearly immediately upon seeing you. 

“Hey honey— I’m so glad I’m finally home. I’ve missed you so much.” He walked through the door, you’d told him so many times that he could come in without knocking– he even had his own key– and he moved straight to you. He leaned in to kiss you, but your lips were unrelenting, not soft like they usually were. You weren’t in the mood for romance right now and he wanted to figure out why. 

Not that you always had to be in the mood for physical touch, but usually when he got home from longer cases you were on him from the moment he walked through the door. He loved that— he missed that right now. 

“Is something wrong? Are you ok?”

“Yeah Spence, I’m fine.” You plastered on your best fake smile to no avail, only making Spencer more concerned in your efforts. 

“Did something happen while I was gone?”

“Nothing happened.” 

“I know you’re not telling me something. I can’t help if I don’t know what’s going on.” Despite his words, his tone wasn’t accusatory at all. Only concerned. 

“I don’t need help— I just saw something that kind of… freaked me out is all.” You were really trying to downplay the effect that stupid magazine cover had on you.

“Did I leave one of my case files laying around? Oh honey I’m so sorry— I thought I picked them all up before I left.”He was wracked with guilt over something that didn’t even happen. 

“No Spencer it wasn’t that. It was a magazine? You were on the cover.” You thought he knew what you were talking about. I mean he’s been in a few science magazines for his academic ability, but nothing else like this. At least you certainly hoped not. 

“What magazine? From this month?” 

“No— it was a few months before we started dating. It was you and Lila Archer? I know it was before we started dating; and I know I have no right to be upset by it but it just— it just kind of took me by surprise, you know?”

“Oh. I forgot about that.” 

“You forgot about it? It said you were found fully clothed in her pool, and you just forgot?” You weren’t accusatory, just hurt—your voice was breaking by the end and you were still trying to look up at him. 

“It really wasn’t like that, I only knew her for a week— we were in LA because she was being stalked, I was supposed to be guarding her and she pulled me into the pool.” with just that one sentence he made it infinitely worse. He knew her for a week, and he wasn’t worried about her germs? What made her so different?

“You only knew her for a week?”

“Well–yes?” It was clear by the way he looked at you that he thought that would be a comforting notion. It was anything but. 

“On our first date you didn’t even want to touch me. You didn’t kiss me until we’d been dating for almost 2 weeks. I was perfectly fine with those things because I know you don’t really like touch but I need you to be honest with me about something. Do you just not like me as much? Because if you don’t that’s– well that’s ok. I mean I don’t want to be worried that you’re going to get a case in LA and find someone better.”

“Honey let me be perfectly clear– there is no one better. I love you more than anything or anyone on this Earth.” Spencer’s reassurance just wasn’t comforting you like it usually did. 

“Then–why? I mean do you just not think about me physically in that way?”

“I think the way I feel about you physically could easily be described as clingy and/or obsessed. You know this, sweetheart.” He held tightly onto your hands- rubbing the back of hand with his thumb

“Well now sure, but I honestly kind of thought you just weren’t attracted to me when we first started going out.”

“I was– and am for the record– extremely attracted to you. Some of my hesitance towards touching you was germ-based, but honestly I was just so ridiculously, extremely nervous around you that I was afraid to touch you and mess everything up.”

“Oh.” 

“Yeah, honey in case you hadn’t noticed you’re kind of it for me.” That feeling in the pit of your stomach finally subsided— giving way to the same feeling of love you always feel when Spencer wraps you in his arms. 

[azsazz]

Over Ice (Part 6)

Hockey!Rhysand x Reader

Summary: Anon Req: She’s walking around Campus and BOOM right smack dab into Broody McBrooder!! She THEN finds out he’s the tutor for one of her hardest courses (personally Psych would be a good one) and they become super duper close with him and the team!!!

Warnings: Mentions of reader's fictional father passing away.

Word Count: 3678

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5)

Notes: Lowkey feel like I'm losing the plot here but we'll see what happens. 🤞🏻

_________________________________________

“You should’ve dressed up as a naughty schoolgirl, show him how bad you really are,” your roommate, Gwyn, teases softly while Mor finishes the artwork that is her hair in the bathroom.

You snort, readjusting the top of your strapless green dress Mor forced you into. Dress being the relative term because this is no more than a scrap of silk with lace lining the hem. The bottom of the dress hardly covers the tops of your thighs, and if you drop something tonight, there will be no picking it up, lest you flash the entire hockey house your panties.

You don’t know how you’ve managed to get invited to another party. Of course, Rhys is Mor’s cousin and you’re sure that he had more than a little to do with you and your roommates attending this evening, but you’re surprised that Mor actually agreed to going. Usually, she’s up for any sort of antics that don’t revolve around sports, like frat parties or bars that don’t check ID’s, and you can’t help but wonder where this change of heart has come from.

Gwyn looks surprisingly chipper for someone who barely leaves the apartment, even more so for someone who has held strong on her stance never to attend a single hockey game nor party during her time at Velaris U. Another one with a harsh rule, you think, her determination reminding you of Rhys and his law that you and his teammates don’t mix.

Pfft, and here you are, getting ready to attend their Halloween party.

You’re not sure what Gwyn has against hockey, but right now, you appreciate that she’s coming more than she could ever know. You’re glad you missed out on whatever method Mor used to get her to come, but she looks cute in her pink dress. Her long, auburn hair is tied back with a big, red bow, and she has clip on bangs in for her costume as Blossom from the Powerpuff Girls. Mor claimed Bubbles, though you were hoping she would want to be Buttercup because her attitude more than matches the little green girls’.

You suppose you’ll need Buttercups strength tonight, because you’re more than determined to piss Rhysand off.

“He’s seen my psych grades, I think he already knows how bad I am,” you answer carefully, slipping your thigh-high white socks on. There’s an intricate lace fringe at the top, and you must admit, Mor picked out the perfect attire for your costumes. She’s somehow managed to give a children’s cartoon the perfect amount of skin for the occasion.

The only thing you’re not looking forward to is the tall, chunky boots she somehow managed to sneak into your dorm two weeks ago. You’ll never underestimate your best friend’s ability to curate the perfect costume.

Neither Mor nor Gwyn know that your tutor is Rhysand Cunningham. You haven’t had the guts to bring it up to Mor, even though your relationship with her cousin is nothing short of formal. Okay, so his teasing texts earlier and having to pretend to be his girlfriend in the presence of his ex weren’t keeping away from each other by any means, but there’s nothing going on between you two, so there’s no need to worry your friend.

You’re strapping your feet into the platform pumps when Mor emerges from the bathroom in a cloud of hairspray. Her pigtails are much more adult than her character in the cartoon, mostly because she has much more hair, nearly reaching the curve of her ass on a good day. She’d never let it cover one of her best assets.

“Oh my gosh, you two look so fucking good!” She squeals, jumping in place. The guys at the party are going to love this look on her because even you can’t stop staring at the way her breasts jiggle with her joy. That pushup bra is doing wonders for her already perky tits, and you’re going to have to ask her where she got it because you need to order one as soon as possible.

“You look amazing, Mor,” you compliment, pushing to your feet. You wobble a little but manage to gain your balance quickly enough. You take a tentative step towards the counter where you left your pre-party drink.

“I know,” Mor grins, flipping one of her pigtails over her shoulder. Her brown eyes sparkle with pride and a little bit of tequila. “We’re killing these costumes.” She walks in her boots like she was born in them. She flicks at Gwyn’s fake bangs with a snicker. “Gwynie, you look hot.”

Gwyn’s cheeks turn as red as her hair. “Thanks,” she shrugs bashfully. “But do we have to go to the hockey house tonight? I heard it’s going to be bumping at Rita’s tonight.”

You wonder if Mor is going to ask what the both of you have been dying to know since Gwyn’s sour reaction the first time hockey was ever mentioned under this roof. You don’t know what kind of beef she has with the sport, or maybe one of the players, but she’s made it more than known on multiple occasions that the topic is taboo, and she’ll never attend anything that has the slightest correlation to hockey.

Your gaze flicks to Mor. Her brows are furrowed and she’s not normally one to give pause, opting to blurt out whatever comes to mind, but right now she’s giving Gwyn the benefit of the doubt and thinking through her options here.

In the end, she goes for pouting, because she knows that neither of you can resist. “But you promised you’d come!”

You don’t know how Mor made that happen, let alone Gwyn promising to join, and you really want to know. Gwyn sighs in a defeated way that makes you ache for her. It’s hard to get her to come out to a non-hockey related event this semester, and that’s also something you’re going to have to talk to her about sometime because you miss your friend on nights out.

Maybe you can stay in one weekend with her, too.

“I know, I know,” Gwyn says, pouring a shot of vodka into a cup. She slams it back and you can see the way that she’s working through the battery acid-like taste, the way she builds herself up before she continues. “Let’s go.”

“You ready?” James asks, trying to smother his amusement. You’re hardly even touching him as you dance together, and yet you can still feel Rhys’ harsh glare from the center of the makeshift living room dancefloor.

“Not a chance,” you respond, and your palms are damp just thinking about it.

“Good, because here he comes,” he warns, right before you’re ripped away from him.

Rhys stands like a raging bull, complete with nostrils flaring, and you’re pretty sure he’s digging his foot into the ground like he’s about to charge. You can’t help but to giggle at his antics, and you can’t wait to see how this plays out.

James swallows harshly, all of the amusement washes from his face as he pales. He’s still too green on the team to really know Rhys all that well, and right now, he’s regretting deciding to tease his captain, even if it is for the greater good.

You and your classmate had come to an agreement. Your roommates didn’t question you when James appeared at your side with a shot in hand and a question to dance. In fact, they all but shoved you into his arms, giggling and whispering to each other before you’d even had the chance to turn around.

They’re somewhere around here, and hopefully, they’re not close enough to watch how this plays out.

He raises his hands in surrender. “Hey, cap.”

“James,” Rhys grits. He looks like an avenging angel, except that he’s dressed as a vampire. You can’t tell if the cape tied around his neck is sexy or not, but his white button down that shows off the top of his chest most definitely is.

It’s offset by the plastic fangs poking out from his lips is most definitely cuter than anything.

Everything you notice about him is a confusing jumble.

“How are you enjoying the party?” James all but squeaks, and you bite your lip to keep from laughing. You feel kind of bad for your new friend, putting himself in the line of fire like this, but as soon as your bargain falls into place with Rhys, you’re going to try your best to make it worthwhile for James.

“Scram kid, before I make you do laps the entire next practice,” Rhys grunts and you can’t control yourself, you burst into laughter.

Rhys turns towards you, confused. You straighten, wiping pretend tears from your face. “I’m sorry, did you just fucking say scram?”

“So, what if I did?” Rhys asks, and he’s clearly enjoying that smile he’s put on your face. His chest puffs with pride, but he pouts and your grin widens.

“I just didn’t know we time-traveled back to the 1900’s.”

Rhys makes a face at you that is all too endearing. He pokes you on the arm and you jerk away before retaliating.

“Hey!” You whine when he traps your wrists in one large hand, poking you in the sides with the other. The way you’re squirming makes him wonder if you’d be moving like that in his bed. He immediately releases you and you straighten your dress, feeling the shift in the atmosphere. “I’m, uh, going to get a drink,” you mutter. Finding the roommates you’d abandoned might be helpful as well.

Just as you’re about to spin on your heel, Rhys’ groan of agony stops you.

“What the fuck is she doing here?” He curses, and his entire playboy protective captain aura goes up in flames. Now he’s a frustrated, annoyed boy whose clingy ex won’t take a fucking hint.

“Who?” You question, rolling cautiously onto your tiptoes to try and see who Rhys is talking about. You can’t see a damn thing in the darkness of the house. You’re not even sure where your own roommates are.

“Amarantha,” Rhys sighs, then, more frantic. “Fuck, we made eye contact. Hold my hand.”

You hide your excitement. This is perfect. Not planned, by any means, because you’re not evil, but it will further your plans. Just after you play with Rhysand a little bit longer. “What? No way!”

Rhys shoots you a dry look. “Jesus, (Y/N), don’t spare my feelings, or anything.”

“Sorry,” you grin, sheepishly.

“Please,” he begs, and you try not to let it show how much him pleading affects you. You thought you were hot before, but now you’re fucking dripping. “I’ll do anything.”

You try not to let your mind wander into what anything could mean. Maybe you need another drink to cool yourself down, or make your mind a little more imaginative.

Rhys’ gaze flicks worriedly to where his ex is stalking your way with a purpose.

Right, back on track.

“Fine,” you hiss, mostly because you can’t stand those sad eyes he’s giving you. You know it’s a ploy, but if it gets him to stop pestering you, you’ll do it. Plus, if Rhys sees that you’re willing to play his little game, it’ll be much easier to bring up the internship you want with the team. “Put your arm around me.”

He does much more than that. Rhys throws his arm over your shoulder and pulls you into his side. You jump at the warmth and ignore the look of confusion he shoots you.

“If you don’t put your hands on me, she’s not going to believe that you’re my girlfriend.”

“And why is that?” you mutter, scouring the crowd for his ex-girlfriend. She shouldn’t be so hard to find with her bright hair and menacing presence, but there’s no sign of her yet, even with your sky-high heels on.

“Because, you’re supposed to be my girlfriend,” Rhys growls, but his unhappiness isn’t directed at you. His violet eyes dark with violence. He looks like he could still hunt James down and strangle him just for dancing with you.

“But I’m not, really,” you counter, trying to keep up your withering façade. Truth is, you’ve done exactly what you set out to do, prove to Rhys that his rules mean nothing to you and that you’re never going to be one of those girls who lets a man tell her what to do.

When you step closer to Rhys to better berate him over the loud music, you barely notice James slinking back into the crowd. He uses you as a distraction for his captain, just like the both of you planned.

“But you are,” Rhys hisses, and you refuse to like the way your body reacts to his words. His arm is a warm weight around your arm as he guides you in the direction of the living room. In the threshold, he stops you, and you’re not sure what you’re supposed to be focusing on when his front is pressed up against your back like this and there’s a hardness pressing against you that you’d never be able to ignore.

“When she’s around,” Rhys starts, and his breath against your ear makes it difficult not to shiver. He nods toward the crowd, right to where his ex is oblivious, dancing with her friends. She’s dressed as some kind of sexy witch, which is fitting, since you’ve met her and know her attitude is worse than nice. “You’re all mine, (Y/N). If I want your hands all over me, you’ll do it. If I want to kiss you, you won’t pull away,” you clutch the drink in your hand tighter, and your thighs mirror the motion. “And if we get a little carried away…” he trails off. His hands resting on your hips curve around your front. You can feel him like a brand through the thin fabric of your dress. Your breath hitches in your throat and you can’t help but to lean further into him. “Well, I won’t tell anyone if you won’t.”

You glare, but he’s right. The only reason you’re so vehemently against this idea is because Mor could catch you at any second.

“Fine. But I need your help with something in exchange.” It hurts you to admit it, but James said that there wasn’t much he could do to guarantee you an internship with the team, and you can admit that it would look really good on your applications to say that you aided in athletic training for Vulcan U’s hockey team.

Too bad you know exactly who does hold sway with their coach, and he’s also your tutor.

And an arrogant asshole.

“Oh?” He quirks a cocky brow and you regret asking him immediately. You don’t like that spark of intrigue in his eyes. “Now I have something that you want?”

You grit your teeth and shove at his chest. His hands don’t move from around your waist, keeping you pressed tightly against his body. To the other partygoers, you pushing at him might look playful, and, reading the smug smile on Rhys’ face, he thinks the same.

“Yes,” you admit, shoulders dropping. You don’t know why you’re finding it so difficult to look at those sparkling violet eyes of his, but you drag your gaze across the party, taking in the different costumes and couples gyrating in the middle of his living room. Rhys allows you to find you words, and when you return your eyes to his, you find him staring down at you with a soft look on his face.

“I was speaking with James,” you start, and his grip tightens on your hips. Rhys’ mouth flattens and his eyes sharpen, jerking from yours to scour the crowd for his teammate. “Hey,” you swat at his arm, gaining his attention. “I didn’t think you needed the reminder that I can speak to who I want.”

“And I didn’t think you needed the reminder that you can’t put moves on any of my players,” Rhys says, leaning down to growl in your ear. His lips brush the shell of your ear, sending a shiver up your spine, and your fingers tighten in his shirt. Hopefully he reads it as your annoyance and not because you don’t trust how wobbly your knees have just become. “Except for me, because I have a feeling that we’re about to make a deal. Isn’t that right, (Y/N)?”

You lean away from him, just enough to meet his eyes again. They’re as intense as they are playful, and when his thumb strokes your hip, you all but cave.

“A deal?” You echo, because they’re the only words in your vocabulary that haven’t disappeared from your mind.

Rhysand’s lips tug into the biggest self-fucking-satisfied smile you’ve ever seen, and that’s when you realize that your gaze has wandered down to his perfect, kissable lips.

You shove against his chest again and this time he relents, allowing a few inches of space between you. It’s barely enough, though. Every exhale has your chests brushing, but you manage to wedge your arms into the space and cross them over your chest.

You definitely don’t miss the way Rhys’ eyes flick down to your breasts that you’re conveniently pushing up for his viewing pleasure.

“What do you want, darling?” He purrs, and damn him for being so fucking sexy. And the fact that he’s dressed as a vampire…gods, he’s every woman’s wet dream. “Do you want my hands?” He drags his palms across your hips and it feels like there’s no fabric between his hands and your skin at all. “Do you want my brains?” He waggles his eyebrows, grinning when you break into a smile against your will. Rhys leans in closer, too close. You can’t breathe. “Or my blood?”

You squeal when he latches himself to your neck. The plastic vampire teeth poke into your skin but all you can focus on is his lips on your skin, the way you’re about to fucking combust—

“Incoming,” a voice shouts and Rhys rips himself away from you. He winces as soon as he straightens and sees his roommates charging toward the both of you with drinks in their hands. Thankfully, Cassian and Azriel haven’t seem to have noticed whatever was just happening between you and Rhysand, which is good, because you don’t know what the hell that was, either.

You don’t even have the time to think about it because the hockey players are infiltrating your space, and you lose your breath at the sight of them.

Azriel’s dressed as Nightwing. You thought Rhys was every woman’s wet dream, but Azriel, Azriel is wet dream fuel. His black hair hangs across his forehead. A black eye mask covers most of his face, but it’s the skin-tight pleather bodysuit that really does the costume in. There’s a blue bird with its wings expanded across his chest, and the costume does nothing to hide how muscular he is.

You wonder who the hell got him into that costume, and if they’re even still alive because the look on his face is set so harsh that a single glance might just make you drop dead.

Or your panties drop.

Rhysand coughs and nudges you in the shoulder, snapping you from your trance. He’s frowning down at you in disapproval, and it takes little effort to grin back up at him, annoying him further. If he really didn’t think you wanted to fall into bed with any of his teammates, he’s sure thinking it now.

And he doesn’t like that one fucking bit.

Cassian’s costume is some sort of sexy chef, sans shirt, but he dons an apron that reads, ‘this guy rubs his own meat’ with an arrow pointing south. He has a chef’s hat on and is carrying a spatula that you know can only spell out trouble, and you barely even know the guy.

Mor and Gwyn plow into the circle as well. Mor slips between you and Rhys first, and it’s really for the best, but you’re already missing his warmth, despite the mugginess in the air. He shoots you a look that tells you you’ll be finishing your conversation later and you nod softly, loosening your shoulders and focusing on the conversation at hand.

Gwyn follows, so she’s wedged between you and Mor. She looks entirely uncomfortable here, eyes downcast to the floor, avoiding any and all eye contact. Her fingers are white-knuckled around her solo cup and you worry that she might crack the thing any second, so you silently wind your arm with hers and give her a reassuring smile that she can barely return.

You think you need to get her home soon. She’s clearly not having any fun at all, and Mor’s too busy taking over the conversation to notice.

“We need to play a game, or something,” she whines to her cousin, who rolls his eyes in response. For whatever reason, Rhy is not impressed with the idea, most likely because all of the games his cousin likes to play at parties involve touching or secrets or kissing…or drinking so much that he doesn’t remember what happened and wakes up regretting his entire existence the morning following.

What Rhys wouldn’t mind would be actually kissing you, and if he indulges his cousin, she can’t be mad should fate pair you and him together for an innocent kiss. He wants to know if you taste just as sweet as you smell, because the nip to your neck was nowhere near enough.

The only problem is, his ex is lingering around his house somewhere. He can’t join the game lest she join or, even worse, out you as his fake girlfriend in front of Mor who made it more than clear that you are completely off limits to him.

It only makes him want you that much more.

“Okay,” he answers, and your head snaps to his in surprise. “Let’s play a game.”

_________________________________________

Over Ice Taglist:

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[sorcerersseestars]

love sweet, taste bitter

Gojo Satoru x gn!reader

To you, Gojo Satoru is your silly, loving boyfriend. But Gojo Satoru is also the strongest sorcerer in the world, and that comes with its risks—for both you and him. When his Infinity fails to activate, your mission takes a turn for the worse.

Aka one of you gets hurt, and the other has to bear it.

Warnings: injuries and violence, a gun is used, blood loss, hidden inventory arc spoilers, fight btwn Gojo and reader, reader implied to be shorter/smaller than Gojo, slightly suggestive (not rlly), lowkey a lot of kissing tho??, bad communication skills, emotional whiplash bc gojo doesn't know what to do w his feelings

Word count: 9.2k

*Gojo and reader are in their early 20s

"Cursed technique reversal: red,” Gojo calls out casually, lazily flicking his right index finger at his target.

The curse—hardly an intelligent one, far from being special-grade—stares at the brilliant light with bulging eyes. It's a deer in the headlights, transfixed by Gojo’s power and paralyzed with fear. You can only imagine how that would feel.

You tear your eyes away from the sight of the curse disintegrating into nothing. It's not as gruesome as most curse exorcisms, considering the potency of Gojo’s attacks, but the curse’s expression fading into nothingness still makes your skin crawl. You almost pity the horrible creature.

In comparison to the macabre scene you just witnessed, Gojo's enthusiastic noise of approval nearly gives you whiplash.

"Another job well done by yours truly!" Gojo grins, giving you two thumbs up. "Now let's hurry before that new boba place closes. You said you really wanted to try it, right?"

It takes you a moment to respond, your mind still processing how insanely fast your boyfriend was able to eradicate a threat that would have taken you both a good strategy and a fair bit of time to exorcise. It took practically no effort for Gojo to eliminate, and you know that he fears no curse. For you, fear grips you each time you face off with a curse, no matter how big or small. It doesn't feel fair.

Your fingers curl into a fist as you struggle with your emotions, frustrated with yourself. When you look to him, beyond his shades and into his powerful eyes, something akin to envy pulls at your gut. It makes you feel sick—you're viewing him in the way everybody else sees him. But when he walks toward you, smiling so wide that he looks goofy, your thoughts of his abilities melt away and are replaced by an affection so strong that your chest hurts.

His eyes are so beautiful, their perpetual sparkle even visible from under the dark film of his shades. His cheeks are tinged pink from your constant gaze on him, and it still amazes you that you have the ability to make him fluster at all. His lips are stretched into a toothy grin, his eyes crinkling along in genuine happiness. Your stunning boyfriend that you still can't believe ever gained an interest in plain old you.

That's right. To you, he's not the Honored One, he's not Gojo Satoru. He's just your boyfriend, just your Satoru. Just your boyfriend who is obsessed with anything sweet.

You roll your eyes lightly, a small chuckle bubbling up in your throat, “You mean, the place you've been begging to go to all week?"

He walks to your side, sighing loudly as he approaches. His deft fingers subtly adjust his sunglasses, pulling them down in an attempt to garner your sympathy. The expression on his face is priceless—the strongest sorcerer in the world is pouting because you insinuated you might not want milk tea.

"Don't be so mean, sweets!” He whines. "You said you wanted to try it out, too.”

“Hm, did I now?” You say with a mischievous glint in your eyes. “I don’t recall.”

He steps closer, towering over your smaller form. When you dwell on that thought, you suppose you should be scared. You see him brutally destroy curses, leaving no trace of their existence behind. He could do that to you, if you wanted to.

Even knowing that, you aren’t scared.

He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close to his chest. You can feel his strength through the solid grip he has on you—his arms lovingly cage you in.

Even though he’s done this many times before, your breath still catches in your throat, and your heart races at the proximity.

“C'mon, l know you've been craving brown sugar boba all week... And they even have that tiramisu flavor you go crazy for…”

He nuzzles in close to your neck, warm breath fanning down your nape. When he's this close, you can't resist anything—and he knows it, too.

You sigh as if he's ruffled your feathers, but you can't help but let the chuckle you’ve been holding in escape past your upturned lips.

“Do they have cheese foam?" You hum.

You yelp as his fingers dig into your side—and then your entire body is wracked with heaving, boisterous laughter.

"What a silly question. Of course they do! Only the amateurs lack the essential toppings,” He shakes his head playfully. “Any more funny business out of you, and you'll get punished again."

You twist around in his grasp to face him. Your hand reaches up to ease his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, putting his vibrant blue eyes and pale lashes on display.

“You're so pretty it's unfair,” You pout. "Leave some for the rest of us."

"And yet everyone's always trying to steal you away from me," He counters.

"Says the head-turner," You say with a smile full of your adoration for him. “Haven't you noticed that the rest of the population—myself included—never has all eyes on them when entering a room?"

He shrugs, “How would I know? You think my eyes are on anyone else once I see you?"

The insinuation has heat and electricity coursing through your entire body. He wears a smirk as if he can feel the flames licking your skin. You lower your gaze, suddenly shy.

A warm hand cups your check, gently nudging your face close to his. Your eyes instinctively flit up to his, drinking him in.

His eyes are bright behind his shades. You laugh softly when his shades fully slide down to the edge of his nose as he lowers his head to yours.

“Makin’ fun of me, babycakes?” He pretends to pout, but his tone is playful and warm.

“Maybe,” You tease. “I mean, you are freakishly tall and have glow in the dark eyes. And you call me all sorts of weird names.”

“You–!” He gasps. “You are such a rascal, y’know that? A fiend, even!”

“Mmm,” You hum, humoring him. “Well, would such a fiend as myself do…this?”

You lean in, savoring the warmth of his hands on you. His skin, smooth from its lack of wear due to his Infinity, skates across your skin effortlessly. Your lips are about to touch his, only inches away from bliss, when you both are caught off guard.

There’s a loud bang. So loud, in fact, that your ears ring as soon as the sound waves hit your eardrums. You stagger back from Gojo, crouching down and immediately covering your ears with your hands. You look up at your boyfriend, expecting to exchange confused glances, and are not prepared in the slightest for the scene in front of you.

His eyes are blown wide, shades now missing. Beads of sweat begin to form on his forehead and all color has drained from his face. His expression quickly crumples, lips parting and yet no sound escapes him.

A shudder runs through you—something is very wrong.

Then his shaky hands begin to move, and he quickly clutches his side. Right under his ribs, a stream of blood begins to run down his body, escaping between his fingers. You watch in horror as it pours down at an alarming rate, and you begin to put the pieces together.

Satoru has been shot.

His name leaves your mouth in a panicked howl and then you can't speak anymore, as if all the air has escaped from your lungs. Your mind is ripped back to when Toji Fushiguro sliced Gojo to shreds in front of you. His blood splattering everywhere while you watched on in horror, immobilized and completely useless, not able to do anything but watch the terrors unfold. Not again, not again, it can’t happen again, is what replays through your mind.

You have no more time to linger on that chilling memory. More pops sound through the air, deafening you and spiking fear in the blood that rushes through your veins. It can't happen again. You can't see him like that again.

You immediately throw yourself at your boyfriend, desperately trying to shield him with your body, even though it’s nearly impossible with how tall he is. You shove him down, attempting to cut down his frame to meet yours so that you can cover him, and notice something odd. You can still feel his warmth—your skin brushes against his, when it shouldn’t. Not right now, it shouldn’t.

You move to the side with quick steps and try to pull him along with you, but are unable to. Your heart sinks. He’s completely dead weight. You’re strong in your own regard, but there’s no way you can pick him up and take off with him.

"Satoru, please! C'mon, we have to go, we need to. Please," You plead with him, gripping him so tightly that your hands ache. When he doesn't respond, you start to shake him, trying to get any reaction out of him, but to no avail.

He’s in shock. It’s obvious with his lack of reaction, with how he lets himself be man handled under your body. He prides himself in his ability to protect those around him—he wouldn’t just let you put yourself in the line of fire if he was in his right mind. You know fully well that Gojo could eliminate the shooter in mere moments if he assumed his normal calm and nonchalance—but, unfortunately, his mind is in a freeze state. The bare skin under your fingertips is evidence of this, which only exacerbates your rising panic.

“Your Infinity!” You shout, your voice raw from panic. “Satoru, your Infinity! You need to turn it on! Now!”

Still grasping Satoru tightly, you endure the next round that is emptied into the space next to you—a bullet whistles by your ear, too close for comfort. Gojo’s breathing is ragged, his eyes staring into nothing and appearing so far away at the same time.

You duck down to his eye level and grab his chin, forcing him to look into your eyes. “Satoru, please! Snap out of it! Please!”

For a few seconds, his gaze locks with yours. His eyes, usually such a vivid blue, are darkened by how large his pupils are. You plead with him, unable to keep your terrified tears at bay.

Then you’re slightly bumped back, now pressing against what feels like a wall, and your body becomes weak with relief. He finally activated his Infinity.

But you're not out of danger yet. Your brain scrambles as you try to figure out how to get out of this while your boyfriend is evidently in shock.

You dare a glance back, eyes scouring the landscape, and immediately curse. As you suspected, you are most definitely being sniped. The enemy has the advantage of higher ground and generous foliage for coverage, while you and Satoru are exposed out in the open clearing below. If you had more time and brain power, you could triangulate their location, but that's just not possible right now.

Even if you were able to surmise their location, you don't even think you can fight back right now, not with how exposed your position is and with how vulnerable Gojo is in this state. And if you can't fight, then you have to flee.

Projectile weapons are ineffective against a moving target—this simple knowledge is what sways your decision. Even though it didn’t work before, you grab Satoru, still trying to keep him low, and begin to run. You breathe a little easier when he moves along with you.

More shots whizz past you, but you keep going, pumping your legs as fast as you can while making sure to be the rear guard. It’s obvious that they’re targeting Gojo—if they hit you, it would merely be collateral damage. The bullseye is on Gojo’s back, not yours.

You don’t stop running until you hit the tree line, and even then you hurriedly usher Gojo behind a stocky trunk many meters back. Before you can catch your breath, you're ripping off your jacket with haste. Quickly realizing that the material is not ideal for the job you intend it for, you quickly tear your shirt from your body. It’s sweaty from all your activity, but it’ll have to do.

You brush away Gojo’s hands, firmly pressing the cloth to his wound. You practically collapse onto your boyfriend as you apply firm pressure, your forehead dipping down to rest on his shoulder. You're wracking your brain for what to do next when Gojo gently pushes you back, places his hands on yours, and shakes his head.

You can't help but think the worst. What does that mean? Is it like that time? Am I too late again?

“I'm sorry, I know it hurts, but y-you're bleeding so much that I have to. Fuck, I’m really sorry for making you run, I’m sure that made it worse, but we just had to get away from whoever was shooting, oh god, how badly did they get you, fuck, this is my fault–”

You don’t realize you’re rambling until he cuts you off. You don't realize you're crying until he brushes the tears away.

“Hey. Stop, sweets. I’m fine, it already stopped bleeding.”

“What? But that can’t be, you were literally shot–”

He raises his shirt, revealing a pink layer of new skin.

He offers you a weak smile, but something is off about it. “Reverse cursed technique, remember? Nobody’s gonna take me down that easily.”

You release a big breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. The weight on your shoulders finally eases as you look over his new layer of skin.

“Oh fuck, I’m so glad you’re okay,” You sniffle, leaning in quickly for a hug. “I–mmph!”

You stumble back a step, blinking in surprise. This has never happened before—you hit his invisible barrier.

His eyes widen. “Fuck, sorry, I didn’t mean to–“

“No, no, it’s okay!” You wave your hands, trying to dispel his apology. You feel flustered and stiff, awkwardness seeping into your mannerisms. “It’s good that it’s on now.”

It’s then that the disturbing thought hits you. Maybe he should always have his Infinity on. Maybe you’re endangering him.

Gojo holds out his arms for you, now inviting you in. You pause, your thoughts echoing through your head. You take a beat too long—you know he senses your momentary hesitation, and how slowly and gingerly you come into his arms doesn't feel right.

“You okay? Did you get hit?” He asks, squeezing you tightly in his arms. “Fuck, please tell me you didn’t.”

With your head pressed to his chest, you can hear how rapidly his heart beats. He’s scared. He’s scared for you, even though he was the one who got hurt.

His hands run over you, checking for any injuries. You pull yourself out of his embrace gently to still his hands.

You shake your head, “No, I’m fine. But you…you got hurt, Satoru. They shot you.”

And it’s absolutely your fault. If you hadn’t been touching him, this never would have happened. He let his guard down because of you.

“I’m alright now, sweets,” He reassures you, but his tone is again tinged with a strange emotion you can’t put your finger on. “Promise.”

“But–!” You exclaim, about to spill out all of your guilty feelings. The words don’t come, though, stopped by another fear. Will he also realize it’s your fault and get rid of you? Will he realize he doesn’t need you?

“Here,” He says, unballing your shirt and placing it in your hands. “This is proof that I’m fine. Your shirt’s..."

He inspects it funnily, scrunching up his eyebrows and staring at it intently, making a show of it to make you laugh. "...pretty clean and ready to be worn again. Well, unless you don’t want to…can’t say I wouldn’t mind you not putting it back on…there is a little speck of blood on it, after all...”

He smiles at you, a true grin that manages to lift up your weary heart. You burst out laughing, and swat his arm before you hurriedly take it from his hands.

“Satoru! We almost just died and you—” You still can’t contain your laughter, but it stops abruptly once you feel a large wet patch on your shirt. When you pull your hand back, your fingers are stained red with a surprising amount of blood.

“I swear it closed up before you…” He frowns, trailing off. His face turns serious for a moment, but then you touch his cheek with your clean hand and give him a quick peck.

You shrug, “It’s okay. No biggie.”

Face still close to yours, he chases your lips as you pull away from the peck. He kisses you deeply, catching you by surprise and forcing you to hold onto him for support.

"Satoru! I'm gonna get you all bloody with this hand..." You softly protest.

"Don't care," He murmurs quickly, leaning in again and kissing like you don't need to breathe. "It's mine anyway. Just like you."

"Mmph—Satoru—but you need to get looked at properly," You manage to say. "We have to go."

He reluctantly lets you slip out of his arms, sighing as he straightens to his full height.

He groans loudly, frowning at you, "Party pooper!"

"Yeah, yeah, get yourself ready," You fold your arms, acting like you didn't just immensely enjoy that.

He raises an eyebrow at you and smirks as his eyes scan your body.

"What?" You ask petulantly.

He sounds more excited than you’d like, “So…no more shirt?”

You sigh, exasperated, and quickly smooth the shirt back over your body. He laughs and wraps himself around your smaller form, squishing you back against his chest. You relax against him, digging your nose into him, taking in his comforting scent. You both are silent for a few moments, soaking up each other's presence.

“That was scary,” You whisper.

Gojo sighs, “It was pathetic, that’s what it was.”

You snap your head up to look at him. “Hey. What are you saying?”

He shakes his head, looking frustrated. “Doesn’t matter. Let’s just…let’s just head back.”

“Satoru…” You start with a warning tone.

“Don’t wanna talk about it right now,” He says flatly. “Besides, we should go back and see Shoko just in case. I want you to get looked over, too."

You want to question him further, but hold your tongue. You know better than to press him when he’s like this.

“Huh? Why’s that?” You simply ask instead, genuinely confused.

He frowns as he looks at your head, scrutinizing it as if something was wrong. Before you can question him, he forms a fist and–

Knock, knock.

“You think it’s in there?” He asks seriously. “Sounds pretty hollow.”

Your jaw drops in disbelief at the absolute disrespect. There’s no way he just knocked on your skull to check if your brain is still in your head.

“GOJO SATORU! Are you- are you implying I don’t have a BRAIN?!” You screech, taking hold of his sorcerer jacket to jostle him around. “Do you have a death wish?!”

He laughs, then uses the same fist to roughly rub your scalp. He even gave you a fucking noogie!!

“That’s it! Take me to Shoko.” You pout, crossing your arms and turning around so your back faces Gojo.

“Aww, sweets, you want a second opinion?” He coos, moving forward to wrap his arms around you from behind. “I’m sure she’ll be able to confirm it…”

“Ugh!”

"...with how willingly you throw yourself into danger."

You stop smiling. "What?"

He's not smiling either, and its absence looks strange on his face. His gaze is almost cold. "Don't do that again."

There are no words that come to your mind, but you wish you could protest and justify your actions and convince him that it was necessary. Instead, you stand there dumbly, transfixed by his cold aura.

Then he smiles sweetly again, as if that hadn't just happened. "Let's go, shall we?"

Shoko sighs loudly at your arrival. "What was it this time?"

"Actually, we're not sure," You admit, looking to Gojo to see if he has any possible answers. When he says nothing, you continue, "We didn't see what—or rather who–it was. 'Must have been a cursed user."

"Even Mr. Six Eyes didn't see them?" Shoko asks, raising an eyebrow. "That's hard to believe. And here I was always thinking he should leave some eyes for the rest of us."

She looks to Gojo teasingly, but he doesn't take the bait. Shoko looks to you with a questioning gaze that says something like—what's up with him?

"It's complicated..." You supply vaguely.

"Well, whoever it was must be bad news," She says. "How did they get Gojo if you couldn't see them?"

"They had guns," You explain. "It was a sniper...or a few snipers, I'm not sure if it was just one or if there was another one too. Their aim wasn't the best, but they got Satoru one time...they shot a few rounds at us, but I guess they got lucky with that shot."

You can't look at him. If you look at him, you'll see his skin pale and washed out from the blood dripping down his abdomen. You'll see his body lacerated and unrecognizable from Toji's ruthless assault. You are always useless, hopelessly useless.

You look at your feet instead and ignore the sour taste of bile in your mouth.

Gojo's cocky snicker brings you back to attention, "They were pretty terrible. They only got one hit, but they should have known better. As if that loser shit would work against me."

Shoko's eyes are on you again, and you know why. Gojo doesn't normally get injured. And by someone with nothing more than a gun? How could he even get hit with Infinity?

Even if you were speaking, you're not sure you would have the strength to tell her. It's my fault he didn't have his Infinity on, is the answer that resonates painfully in your chest. The guilt threatens to consume you whole, but you push it down.

"Everything is 'loser shit' to you with RCT," Shoko decides on. "But I have to say I'm just a little surprised you got hit."

"Yeah, yeah, but I'm all good now," Gojo says dismissively.

"Let me see at least," Shoko rolls her eyes. "Aren't you here to see me for my medical expertise or what?"

"What, we can't see our dear friend otherwise?" You tease with a pout. "You wound me, Shoko."

"That wouldn't be ethical of me,” Shoko plays along, then turns back to doctor mode once she starts getting her supplies ready. "Did you get hurt too?"

“No, just Satoru,” You say with a shake of your head. “You don’t have to check me over.”

She narrows her eyes at you. “I’ll come back to you.”

“Huh? But Shoko…” You trail off, seeing she has already begun inspecting Gojo.

“I’m all good,” Gojo rolls his eyes, but it doesn’t have quite the usual touch of playfulness it usually does. “C’mon, Shoko, don’t waste your time on this. We both know I can’t really get hurt.”

He winks at you, and you smile in return. That almost makes you feel better—he’s being more like himself.

“Uh-huh, but they certainly won’t let me rest until I do a proper check-up,” Shoko says. “You’ve got a persistent one, did ya know?”

He only chuckles at that, giving her some peace to look him over and prod him here or there.

“Well, you’re all good, as expected. It doesn’t seem like there’s any soreness, which is a good sign.”

“My RCT isn’t just for show!” Gojo says proudly. “Works just as good as yours, Shoko.”

She rolls her eyes, “Uh huh. Now, let’s get on to your ‘sweets’.”

You stick your tongue out at her, blushing, “Shoko, I have a name!”

“Not in these parts,” She teases easily, waggling her eyebrows at you. “Alright, just sit up straight for me now. Just gonna prod you a bit, okay?”

You nod, unworried as you let her hands inspect you. You relax and are about to crack a joke about getting a free massage from bestie Shoko, but you find yourself writhing in pain instead. You definitely didn’t expect yourself to wince—and yet you find yourself doing so, hissing out in pain as a stinging suddenly surfaces on your back.

Gojo sits up in alarm at your reaction and quickly jumps up from his cot, making his way over to you and Shoko. “What’s wrong?”

He’s practically hovering over you before Shoko shoos him away with a wave of her hand, motioning for him to let her do her job. He keeps away, but his gaze is trained on the spot her hand is touching.

She lifts your shirt fully, carefully inspecting the wound. It’s bleeding steadily, yet neither of you even noticed it before this moment.

“You got hit?” Gojo practically mewls. He’s never sounded this small and weak before. “But you were—I thought you were fine..."

Now it makes sense why your hand was tinged red when you pulled your hand back from the shirt earlier. It wasn't from Satoru's wound at all—it's your blood.

When you turn to Satoru, you look into a mirror. You know that's how you must have looked earlier when you looked at his bullet wound in horror.

“You probably didn’t feel it because of the adrenaline," You hear Shoko telling you. "It appears to be a graze, but it got you pretty good. There’s no bullet or shrapnel, which might be why you didn’t feel it in the moment.”

You feel embarrassed for some reason. “I seriously didn’t feel anything…it’s fine, then, right?”

Satoru is pale again. Emotions swirl in his agitated eyes—you can’t quite decipher them, since they cycle so fast, but he looks…haunted.

But he shouldn't, not when everything boils down to being your fault.

You immediately turn your attention to Satoru, becoming apprehensive about the look in his eyes. You smile at him softly, eyes crinkling along with your lips, trying to signal that you’re really okay, that there’s nothing to worry about.

But you don’t see the pool of blood steadily growing behind you, Satoru does.

“I’m okay, Satoru,” You smile, but it falters when Shoko presses gauze against your wound.

“Let me be the judge of that,” Shoko sighs. “Lay on your stomach and try not to move too much. I'm going to wrap you, okay? I need to grab some things, but I’ll be right back.”

"Okay..." You accept softly, still surprised by this turn of events.

You obey Shoko's orders and begin to lower yourself onto the hospital bed. You grit your teeth when the skin on your back stretches, irritating your newly discovered wound. You blink once and suddenly he's by your side, holding you steady and angling you so your back doesn't have movement while he gently lays you down.

"Thanks," You say. "I'm fine though, Satoru, really..."

“You don’t see yourself,” He speaks lowly, quietly. “Worry about yourself some.”

You’re left reeling at his words—more so by how he says them. His voice is so weak, uncharacteristically soft and completely candid.

“I’m fine,” You insist, shaking your head. “I didn’t even feel it. It can’t be so bad then, can it?”

You don’t miss the way Gojo’s jaw sets. He didn’t like that response. You see something you don't understand in his eyes, a flash of a strong emotion you didn’t anticipate. You avert your gaze, but it’s burned into the back of your eyes.

The click of Shoko’s heels alerts you of her return. Gojo watches his old friend carefully, taking in her furrowed brow and the way her eyes jump between your wound and her supplies, analyzing. She seems confused, as if she underestimated the severity of your wound. His hands curls into fists, watching your blood drip over the edge of the bed and dropping messily onto the ground below.

Shoko pulls her gloves on swiftly, grabbing a bottle of antiseptic and preparing it for application.

“Sit tight, my friend,” Shoko tells you with a deep exhale. “I gotta get started on this. First I’m going to sterilize it, then you’re going to need stitches. I’m sorry to say we won’t have the luxury of time to sedate you for that.”

You gulp. Your pain tolerance is okay, but you really hate the feeling of anticipating pain. Knowing something will hurt is infinitely more scary to you than getting injured in battle, when your adrenaline is high and it just happens without warning.

You reach your hand out hesitantly, feeling silly for needing comfort just for a few stitches, and are surprised by the immediate grasp on your hand. It’s tight but not uncomfortable; it’s warm and it grounds you.

You grit your teeth and try to limit your whimpers of pain as she treats your wound. You can’t stop yourself from squirming when the needles pulls at your skin again and again, even when she places a heavy hand on your back to hold you in place. All throughout, Gojo’s hand squeezes yours, carrying you through this uncomfortable ordeal.

When it’s finally over, you feel exhausted.

“You did great,” Shoko praises you. “Your wound should be all good for now.”

You let out a small chuckle of relief, almost giddy to be done with the dreaded stitches. You sit up and slide off the bed, wanting to get back on your feet to feel some normalcy, to convince yourself you’re fine.

You truly felt nothing before, but it must be catching up to you now. Your knees threaten to buckle under you as dizziness overtakes you—you wobble on your two feet.

Both Shoko and Gojo rush to you, each taking a side to support you.

“You lost a considerable amount of blood,” Shoko warns in her doctorly tone. “Slow down and take it easy from now on.”

You laugh sheepishly, rubbing the back of your head, “I’m good! Just stood up a bit too fast.”

Shoko releases your arm, but Gojo doesn’t let go. He holds you steady, even pulling you toward him, supporting the majority of your weight.

“I can stand, y’know…” You laugh softly, finding his overprotective actions a bit amusing. But all the humor drains from the situation when you meet his gaze.

You see it in his eyes again, a dark flicker that almost makes you nervous. Before you can muster the courage to question him about it, Shoko interrupts your silent musings.

“Listen closely. I know you like to be up and about, as you just demonstrated, but I want you to limit your movement as to not disturb your stitches. A little walking should be fine, but do not exert yourself. No exercising or training for the next few days. Come see me in three days so I can clear you—if it’s looking good—for activity.”

You resist a sigh, settling on a playful roll of your eyes. “Yes, mom.”

She smirks, “Good. Now get out of here, you two, before I get your couples cooties.”

“Har, har, har,” You pretend to laugh, before sticking your tongue out at her. “Very funny, Shoko.”

It strikes you that Gojo has been unusually quiet, not joining in on your mutual jokes. When you spare a glance, you observe that his facial expression is neutral, if a bit strained. No smile, no cocky smirk. That’s uncommon.

You look at Shoko, exchanging more unspoken words with a few blinks. That confirms it—he’s acting strange.

You want to ask him what’s wrong, but he know he won’t tell you here.

“Ready to go?” You ask instead.

“Ready as ever,” He tries a half smile. It’s not very convincing.

You nod and lean into him, angling your head to smile up at him. Your smile is innocent and sweet. His chest squeezes at the sight, full of a jumble of emotions. He doesn’t reveal any of them; he absently plays with a strand of your hair instead.

As you look up at him, closely examining his soulful eyes for any traces of the emotion from earlier, to see if it still lingered. But the intense emotion is gone, replaced by an even and controlled gaze, leaving you to only wonder at the clear flash of anger you saw earlier in his bright eyes.

When you come back home, Gojo is unusually quiet. He mumbles something about taking a shower when you get back, leaving your side as soon as he gets the chance. You really wouldn't mind, but he seems rather... avoidant, especially with his ensuing actions.

You plop yourself down on your couch, trying to get comfy while keeping your back straight, a nearly impossible feat. Feeling restless, you tap your foot while you watch condensation from a glass on the coffee table in front of you drip down the sides. With each drop that falls, your heart beats a little faster.

You prepared a cool glass of water and a bowl of Satoru’s favorite sweets for when he's done, anticipating a binge of a show you both recently discovered. But, instead of an evening full of your usual snuggles on the couch, him getting handsy while you ‘protest’ about missing the show, you are woken up to a different reality.

When you hear the click of the bathroom door, you straighten in your seat, excited to be close to him again. But before you can even call him over to the couch, Gojo heads straight to your bedroom. You wait a few minutes, assuming he's just changing, but you grow uneasy as the time ticks by.

Maybe he just wants space. Well, how long should you give him? Should you ask him if he wants space? But what if he's waiting for you? Does he just want to be in bed instead?

You wait and wait, tapping your foot anxiously on the floor and checking your phone every few minutes. When the supposed appropriate amount of time has passed, you hesitantly approach the bedroom.

You find yourself knocking on the door before you enter, even though you've never done that to your shared door before.

"Hey, Satoru?" You call out tentatively.

You stand in the doorway, scared to cross an invisible boundary. A sheepish smile is on your face, even though you try to get your lips to stretch normally.

He's on his phone, just scrolling. Oh, maybe he just got distracted by TikTok or something.

"Hm?" He barely responds, not even looking up.

“Is something bothering you?” You ask, worried. “Is it your side?”

“Why would it be my side?” Gojo asks flatly.

Your brow creases in confusion, but you try to keep a light tone. “Oh. Uh, what’s wrong, then?”

"Nothing, why would anything be wrong?" He gives you a tight-lipped smile. His tone is so strange—bordering on sarcastic—and you don’t know what to make of it. As he stands up and passes you, slipping out of the room hastily like you are what’s bothering him. The thought turns your stomach.

You pause for a beat, frozen in the doorway as you process what just happened. Then you turn around, eyes following his form as he enters the living room and unceremoniously sprawls across the couch. He crunches on some candy you brought in the bowl.

Okay. Maybe you should be more direct.

You walk over to him, cautious but trying not to appear nervous, “Satoru, can we talk?”

“We are talking,” He smiles oddly.

“You know what I mean…” You say with a note of annoyance coming through in your tone, then it turns softer. “Is something wrong? Did I do something?”

“Yes.”

You blink rapidly, surprised by his blunt answer. You take a seat next to him.

“Okay…could you tell me what I did?”

“…”

He’s not faking a smile anymore, which is a start. His lips are set in a firm, flat line, instead. His jaw is clenched and his neck muscles are emphasized due to how taut they are; you have rarely seen him tense like this. Your chest aches—what did you do?

“Please, Satoru, what’s wrong?” You ask again, each word filled with care and concern. And somehow, it seems to kill him.

“What’s wrong?” He echoes back loudly. “What’s wrong is that you stood in front of me while there was incoming fire! You can’t just do that.”

That’s not what you expected.

“What do you mean?” You frown.

“I just– fuck, why would you think to do that?” He stresses, pulling at his hair. “You took too much risk—you can’t use RCT!”

“Yeah, me and like ninety-nine percent of all sorcerers. Like it matters. You think I thought of that?” You huff.

“‘Like it matters?’ Are you hearing yourself right now?” He scoffs. “It matters a lot, and you know it does. It’s reckless.”

“When it comes to you, it doesn’t.” You say hotly, unwavering.

“It does matter. You got hurt when you shouldn’t have. When you didn’t need to!”

You’re surprised by his outburst. “I–I was only thinking about protecting you, okay? I wasn’t…I wasn’t thinking about that! Caring about getting hurt? That was the last thing on my mind.”

“Yeah, it’s obvious you weren’t thinking,” He sneers. “There’s no need to risk your life like that. Absolutely no need.”

Your jaw drops in shock, and you try not to feel hurt. “You can’t be serious right now, Gojo. You were in no state to protect yourself. I was…doing my best, I just wanted to keep you safe.”

“I still got shot,” He argues back immediately, painfully reminding you.

A small, pained gasp escapes you. You spin around as fast as you can—tears are freely falling without your permission.

You want to tell him that’s not fair, but you don’t trust your vocal cords right now. Not with how tight your throat is from trying to hold back sobs that would surely wrack your body if you let them.

The guilt that has been trailing you all day now collects at the pit of your stomach, practically eating you alive. You feel physically sick. He’s right. He did get shot. He was vulnerable, his Infinity lowered because of you. If…if the bullet had gone through his head, what could you have done then?

You stand up as steadily as you can. You don’t spare him a single glance; you can’t, not with your face crumpling as you try your hardest not to cry. You exit the living room swiftly, holding it all in, all of your emotional pain but also your physical pain. Your wound is throbbing and it even feels hard to stay standing right now.

You finally round the corner into the hallway. Now out of view, you let yourself stagger down the hallway, succumbing to your dizziness. It’s your fault, your fault, only your fault. You can’t handle this right now.

You walk aimlessly down the hall, just wanting to get away from him right now. You wind up in the bathroom and lock the door behind you. You stand in front of the mirror, looking for something redeeming within yourself, but all you can see are your pathetic tears and guilt swimming in your eyes.

You grip the edge of the counter, so tightly that it begins to hurt and your fingers tremble at the effort. You feel unsteady, like the brain Gojo teased you don’t have is lacking oxygen. Maybe you really lack one if you think you could possibly be the right match for the strongest.

You sink to the ground, finally releasing heaving sobs that have been trying to claw themselves out of you. They’re muffled by your hands, which you press firmly against your mouth in an effort to contain your noises, but some of the sound leaks between your fingers. You stuff some of your shirt into your mouth to bite down on, trying to hold it all in, trying to hold yourself together.

Your breath hitches at a throb of pain from deep within your back. It hurts so much, even with the pain reliever Shoko gave you to take. It hurts more than when she was threading the needle between your folds of skin; it’s deeper than that, sharp and intense and robbing you of a normal breathing pattern.

Despite your efforts to keep quiet, pained whimpers start to leave you. And worse—panic floods you, taking advantage of your poor state of mind. All you can focus on is the stabbing pain that refuses to dull.

You rip off the gauze with shaking hands, terrified to see its state. But confusion fills you when there's only dried smears on it—that must be from earlier. If your wound is still closed, then why does it hurt so much?

You shift on the floor, limbs giving out. You contort in pain, which only makes things worse, pulling the stitches to their limits. They stay intact, but the tension brings waves of pain to your back. A yelp is ripped from your throat at a particularly painful pulse.

The thunder of incoming footsteps gives you both fear and a sense of relief. On one hand, you didn’t want him to hear; on another hand, right now all you crave is your boyfriend’s comfort.

“Hey, what was that?” He asks from behind the door, sounding on edge.

“Satoru…” You mewl out in pain.

He calls out your name, voice now urgent. You cringe at the resistance of the lock against his attempt at opening the door.

“M’sorry, I locked it,” You sniffle. “Stupid of me.”

But he still appears in front of you, a locked door holding nothing to his defiance of space and time. He takes one glance at your crumpled form on the floor and curses. All of the tension from earlier melts away, replaced by genuine worry and need.

“What happened? You okay? Did you fall?” He asks as he hurriedly crouches next to you. His hands reach out to you, gently pulling you into his lap. You wince as your back bends, aggravating your wound.

You shake your head. “No, it’s just—agh, fuck—just my back, it suddenly hurts so bad.”

He grimaces. “Can…can I take a look?”

You give your consent and he quickly peels your shirt up. His fingers shake as he does so, even though he doesn’t mind the sight of injuries or blood. Or, at least, when it’s not yours.

He slowly pulls your shirt up just enough to reveal your wound, fearing the worst. You shiver when the fabric chafes against your graze, and he murmurs an apology upon seeing your discomfort. One of his hands rubs soothing circles on your waist.

When he inspects your injury, he’s met with red, puffy skin—the area around your stitches is clearly inflamed, but not unsually so. He breathes a low sigh of relief.

“It looks a bit swollen,” He determines before pulling your shirt back down, careful not to let it touch your wound this time. “But not too bad.”

“It feels bad,” You whine.

"I know," He says gently. “I’ll call Shoko in a second to make sure it's alright. Do you want to head to the bed first?"

“Yes, please,” You request softly.

He hooks an arm under your knees, the other cradling your back. “Alright, sweets. Up we go."

He handles your weight like it’s nothing, and easily unlocks the door you stupidly locked on the way out.

Unshed tears prick your eyes. You couldn’t carry him earlier, even after he had been shot and couldn’t move. You are incapable, unable to handle what he can on a daily basis. Can your relationship really be mutual if he always has to act as the strongest? You could barely protect him earlier.

"It hurts that badly?" He references your teary eyes without mockery, only softness.

If only your tears were from that pain.

"It could be worse, I guess," is what you settle on, neither a lie nor the full truth.

"Could I make it better, maybe?" He asks with a suspicious smile. Before you can answer, he swings you around a few times like he normally would when he carries you, which draws a genuine laugh out of you.

"You're gonna make me dizzy!" You complain, but your smile is so pure and wide, something Gojo doesn't miss.

"You're so beautiful, sweets," He says, affectionately rubbing his nose against yours. You feel warm from the closeness.

You look away shyly, "Yeah, right."

"You don't believe me?" He asks huskily, placing a kiss on your cheek.

"Ugh! Put me down and call Shoko already! It stills hurts," You pout.

"If you say so," He says, but his little smirk is still planted on his face. He lays you down carefully, gently releasing you onto the pile of blankets.

He then turns around and dials the doctor in question, "Yo, Shoko."

You close your eyes, trying to ward off the radiating pain with deep breaths. Gojo's phone call turns to background noise, the words indecipherable.

You tune back into the world at the end of his conversation.

"Okay, thank you so much Ieiri."

You faintly hear Shoko's disgust on the other end of the line, "What's going on with you?? Please never thank me like that again, yuck!"

You can't hold back the giggle that bubbles up at Shoko's reaction. Gojo blows a raspberry into the speaker and promptly hangs up on her.

"What's the verdict?" You ask.

"Well, sweets," Gojo sing-songs. "Did you forget to do something?"

You look up in thought, your brows furrowing, "I don't think so..."

"Really?" He says, then produces a familiar orange pill container. You're forced to stare at it as he shakes it in front of your face. "What about this, hm?"

"What? I already took one," You say, a little indignantly. "When we first got home. It was so horrible tasting and was a giant horse pill, too...Ugh, get that bottle away from me, might as well throw it out. I don't want to take anymore later."

He cracks the bottle open, pouring one into his palm. You narrow your eyes at him. Before you can ask what he intends to do with it, that same pill is shoved into your mouth followed by an amount of water so large that you almost begin to choke.

You cough on the water, and he pats your back accordingly, as if he expected this.

"What-?! Are you trying to waterboard me? I said I already took one, and-" You cough again. "God, where did you even get that water from anyway?"

"Mm. But you didn't notice the pill this time, right?" He looks satisfied with himself.

You deadpan. "No, but-"

"Besides, you were spacing out before we left the infirmary. Shoko specifically said to take two pills when you came home, or else the pain might get bad."

Your face feels hot, "Oh, did she now? Hah hah...I must have misheard her..."

He sighs, and it's only now you notice how tired he looks. There's a lull in your conversation, and you use this time to truly observe him. Dark circles are prominent under his eyes—how come you never noticed that?—and his eyes hold a look of defeat.

He breaks the silence, speaking softly, "You worry me, y'know? When I came in and you were convulsing on the floor...I don't want to see you like that again."

You stay silent, not willing to risk jeopardizing this rare moment of complete and utter vulnerability from Gojo.

"And when Shoko lifted your shirt and there was so much blood pouring out of your back..." He closes his eyes, screwing them shut. "I didn't know what would happen. That really scared me. Even when Shoko said you'd be fine, I didn't believe her until it stopped. And even then, you looked so weak...you still do, and it kills me."

He looks down at the ground, between his hands that are interlocked so tightly that it looks like it would hurt.

"It fucking kills me inside that you got hurt protecting me, and you didn't even notice. If that bullet had come any closer, you-"

He stops abruptly, voice breaking. You reach forward, taking his large hands in yours.

"But it didn't. Look at me, Satoru. I'm fine, I really am. I promise."

He shakes his head vehemently, and you're shocked to see liquid trickle down his face. You almost startle when he embraces you so tightly that you can barely breathe, as if you could disappear at any moment. His head rests on your shoulder, effectively hiding his expression from view.

He whispers by your ear, "What's the use in being the strongest when I freeze up like that? I put you in so much fucking danger."

"Satoru, look at me," You ask again, but his head stays tucked in the crevice between your shoulder and collarbone. "Please."

He slowly raises his head, revealing the expression he tried to conceal. His eyes are glassy and his cheeks are tinged pink; it makes your heart hurt.

"You're not the strongest to me," You say. "You're not even Gojo Satoru. To me, you're Satoru. Just Satoru. You're human and have emotions and memories and trauma, just like everyone else."

You steel yourself for your next words, the ones that have been haunting your thoughts since he got shot.

"I know that what happened reminded you of that...that time with Toji. I-it felt the same for me, and this time...this time I couldn't stand to watch idly. I would rather die than watch that happen to you again. Especially since, this time, it was definitely my fault."

"Your fault?" He laughs dryly.

"Yes!" You instantly cry out, causing his eyes to widen.

"Haven't you realized by now?" You practically sob. "None of this would have happened if I hadn't been touching you. Because your Infinity lowered for me—fuck, it makes me sick saying this out loud—they were able to really hurt you. I'm the one endangering you, and i-if this keeps up then..."

He says nothing. Now that you admitted it, there's no taking it back. And there's no way that he can or should accept this. There's no way he should accept you, you who are so useless and weak and stubborn. And yet...

"That's all?" He says seriously. You're struck with a flash of frustration and anger at his dismissal, but the hard look in his eyes tells you he is just as frustrated and will not budge on this point.

"We'll be more careful. It's a lesson learned for sure, but I'm not giving you up anytime soon. That's what you wanted me to say, isn't it? That I was going to let you go."

You look down shamefully, "W-well..."

He barks out a sharp laugh, "That's not happening. Do you know why?"

You avoid his gaze, and your voice comes out small. "You pity me?"

"I love you." His voice is firm and so sure; it leaves no room for doubt.

Your eyes snap back to his. There’s no bandages or glasses in the way to obscure the emotion shimmering in them—an endless sea of affection and intensity and something else that you couldn’t capture in words even if you tried. Love.

He loves you.

“I love you, so you can’t be reckless. You just can’t, okay? I’ve been going crazy knowing you got hurt, but I couldn’t handle it if…” He takes a sharp breath. “It’s selfish of me, but I don’t fucking care. Nothing can happen to you. I’ll take all of your hits and all of your missions if it means you’ll be safe. You’re the one person I can’t handle losing.”

“Then you’ll understand I feel the same way,” You say with a determined look on your face. “It’s not like I planned to do what I did. It was all instinct. I didn’t care what would happen to me.”

“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of,” He admits, voice raw and so unlike his usual self-assured tone. “You don’t value yourself enough. You matter so much, sweets, more than I could ever say in words. I’d do anything for you, to keep you safe.”

You counter, “And I would die for you, Satoru, because I love you. And I wouldn’t ever regret it.”

Your determined admission renders him silent.

Then he chuckles, “You’re stubborn, aren’t you, sweets? Of course you sound all cute and mad the first time you tell me you love me.”

Your eye twitches, but you exhale into a smile. “Maybe. But so are you!”

“How about this?” He proposes. “How about we both stay alive, live happily ever after, and drink boba and eat kikufuku for the rest of our days?”

“I think I know where this is going,” You say, suspicion clear in your voice. But you can’t stop the way your heart jumps at his words, the insinuation of spending the rest of your days with Satoru making you weak inside.

“Well, sweets, I have an idea,” He says softly, but his words are filled with excitement.

“Hmm?” You muse, playing along. “What is it?”

“I think we need a sweet treat to make us feel better. Don’t you think so? Maybe we could…check out that boba place I talked about earlier?”

“The one ‘I’ said I wanted to go to?” You ask, using air quotes and shaking your head in amusement.

“That’s the one!” He grins, throwing himself around your form. He squeezes you tightly, nuzzling into your neck. “I love you so much that I’ll treat you, seeing as you want to go so badly. Not that I really wanted to go or anything…”

“You’re such a bad liar!” You laugh, pinching his cheek. “But, Satoru…I meant what I said.”

You look at him seriously, not willing to let this slide. You don’t expect him to match your intense energy, but he does.

“So did I. You don’t have to worry about that anymore, because I’ll never let that happen again. I’ll always be here for you, sweets. I’ll always protect you. You can try, but I’ll never make that mistake again. I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you because of me, so I won’t let it. I love you too much to let it happen.”

Your heart feels like it could burst. You sniffle, not able to hold the tears back.

“Aw, is my baby crying?” He teases, gently thumbing the tears away from your cheeks. “You okay?”

“Mhm, just happy,” You nod and let out a watery laugh. “Hey, Satoru.”

“Yeah?” He hums.

“Do you love me enough to give me the last kikufuku later?”

You expect him to joke along with you, but he’s perfectly serious in his words back. Only you seem to have that effect on him.

“Even that,” He chuckles along with you, unbridled warmth and affection swimming in his baby blues as he gazes at you, eyes never leaving your form. “Even that, sweets.”

gojo masterlist <3

A/N: I don’t feel like this is the highest quality writing, but I felt really compelled to write this for some reason, so…oh well! <3 I hope it still turned out okay.

Also Satoru definitely should have apologized but I feel like he’s stubborn and hates apologizing so I left that out <3

I think this is the first time I've managed to not use (Y/N) HAHA, sometimes I see comments on other posts about how much it disturbs their immersive experience, so I'm going to try to limit my usage of it from now on...personally, I've seen and used it for so long that it's just part of my x reader vocabulary, but I understand why people don't like it lol.

Anyway, thank you for reading and I hope you had a great day today !! <333

[ponderingmoonlight]

Gojo going berserk after his wife got injured

Pairing: husband!Gojo x reader

Word Count: 1,5k

Warnings: slight injury, language, Gojo being really mad lol

Notes: My dearest @hitori979, this one is dedicated to you! Thank you from the bottom of my heart for supporting me since day 0, always liking and commenting my brainrot. I hope you enjoy this fanfic as a little thank you from me 🤍 How other JJK men react when (y/n) gets hurt here Choso with injured (y/n) who has blood phobia here

„Do you really have to go, babe?“, Satoru’s oh so sweet voice mumbles against your neck.

You know exactly what he’s up to. Satoru always acts this way when you’re about to leave for a mission. How much he hates to see you walk through the door. While he’s fully aware of the fact that you’re a damn strong jujutsu sorcerer, he just dislikes the thought of you getting injured on some stupid mission. If he had it his way, you would stay at home, maybe teach here and there at Jujutsu High, but that’s it.

You are way too precious to risk your life on a mission.

“You know I have to. This is my job, remember? And I have to let you go every day, knowing that you’re not even paying attention. May I remind you that I haven’t been injured for over a year?”, you softly reply.

“That’s not true, I am paying attention!”

You raise your eyebrow demandingly by the way he ignored your last question.

“At least sometimes…Come on babe, this is not fair! Just because you haven’t been injured for some time doesn’t mean you won’t get injured today! Also, I wanted to spend the day with you!”, he complains, arms wrapped around your frame so tightly that it’s getting hard to breathe.

“You always want to spend the day with me. As much as I’d love to stay here, I have to go. Megumi will assist me.”

“I should assist you…”, he mumbles.

“They wouldn’t even send me, then”, you chuckle.

“Promise that you’ll text me, I already threatened Megumi to take care of you.”

“I will, darling. Now let me go or I’ll be late.”

With one last grumble and kiss, he finally lets go of you while you smile to yourself. God, how much you adore your husband. Even though it can be quite challenging from time to time, you admire the way he cares about you.

“I love you”, you shout before you close the door behind you.

“Love you too!”

-later-

“Don’t worry, one or two hours and we’ll be done with this”, you reassure Megumi who stands beside you.

“This doesn’t look good”, he comments.

Unfortunately, he’s right. You don’t know why there are so many curses around, but an uneasy feeling spreads in your guts. This isn’t the right place for a grade 2 sorcerer, let alone a first class student. Well, maybe even you…

“Try to stay behind me. This will get ugly”, you instruct Megumi when another wave of curses appears.

“Gojo-sensei will kill me if you get injured because of me.”

You wink at him while as you unsheathe your sword.

“Who said I will?”

Without wasting another precious minute you sprint forwards, eyes darting around the area. There are so many, way too fucking many, curses around here. This isn’t normal, something is very wrong here. But you don’t have time to think about it any further – Megumi’s and your life depend on your abilities.

You fight off more than 40 curses with ease, slashing your sword over and over. Fuck, this has no end. As soon as you exorcise one curse, two more appear on your sides and try to attack you. With every passing minute it becomes clearer and clearer to you that you won’t be able to complete this mission unscathed with Megumi alone.

“Here are many curses around, I can’t explain why though. It wouldn’t hurt to send some help”, you instruct into your headphone, fully aware of the fact that your husband is able to hear your decent cry for help as well and might freak out.

Where do all of these curses come from? This is a public place, it shouldn’t be possible for them to develop here this well. Expect this aren’t traditional curses…

“I won’t lie to you: Something’s off here. I’m not entirely sure if these are normal curses. Just stand your ground, I already informed the higher ups about this”, you inform Megumi with firm voice, fighting off a curse just before it is able to scratch your face open.

They come from all directions, almost absorbing you. Desperately you fight back with all your abilities, holding onto your sword so tight that your knuckles stand out white. You have to get through all of these curses, you have to find out why they’re here and why on earth so numerous.

But you can’t. Your thoughts wander to Satoru and his words this morning. He’ll definitely go insane when he hears about this. And for a moment, a wave of relief washes over you by that thought. Because this means he’ll come here and end this madness without Megumi getting hurt.

Megumi.

You almost miss the way a curse lunges from behind towards him while he’s busy fighting off three other ones at the same time. Instinctively you sprint forwards as fast as your feet carry you, breath going sharp and fast. No way in hell this thing will hurt Megumi. Not when you’re in charge.

“Bend over!”, you scream on top of your lungs, blade already on its way to cut through that curse.

But just before you hit it, its claws find their way into your face, scratching your forehead slightly before it falls to the ground lifelessly.

You hiss, a stinging pain crawling up your skin. But when you gently scan the spot with your fingertips, only a minor stain of blood shows itself. You let out your breath, relief flooding your body. This is nothing serious, nothing to worry about.

But before you sprint back in action, a reflex holds you back.

“Don’t move an inch, Megumi”, you warn the boy next to you.

In the split of a second, a wave of hollow purple rushes past your orbs, killing every curse on its way. You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding, heartbeat picking up in an instant. It’s him. It has to be him.

“(y/n)!”, he cries out, large frame suddenly by your side.

“What is this?”, he hisses.

Frantically, his eyes scan your forehead, widen in blank horror.

“Oh, this? Just a minor wound, nothing to worry ab-“

“Nothing to worry about!? You promised to be careful, you promised not to get hurt!”, he literally scolds you while his fingertips inspect your wound.

“Stop that”, you warn him, slapping his hand away.

“I did the best I could but they were just too many. And there are always more to come, look.”

Not even a minute later, dozens of new curses begin to flood the streets.

“We need to get back to work!”

“No”, he interrupts you roughly.

“Not you, you’ll stay here.”

You can’t believe your ears, mouth too stunned to speak for a second. He can’t be serious, right? This is your mission. You won’t give up because a small wound on your forehead that isn’t even bleeding severely.

“This is my mission, Satoru. I will help you exorcising these curses”, you state in all seriousness.

“Oh yeah? Watch me, then.”

You aren’t able to react any further. With breathtaking speed, Satoru lunges from curse to curse, ripping their heads off in the most violent way you have ever seen while all you can do is stare at him in disbelief. Of course you always knew that your husband is not to be trifled with when it comes to his precious wife, but you’ve never thought that his concern would reach as far as him going berserk because of you.

Because of a minor laceration on your forehead.

It doesn’t even take him 30 seconds to kill all the curses entirely, leaving you completely speechless and a little dizzy. When he walks towards you, a maniac smile is plastered on his blood-covered face.

“No one is hurting my wife and gets away with it. Especially not some random curse”, he announces under his breath, gaze still stone cold.

“How are you feeling, love? Is your head doing okay? Did you get injured somewhere else?”

As soon as his eyes meet yours, they are filled with nothing but concern and love, making your heart skip a beat.

“N-No…I’m fine…”, you stutter while getting lost in his bright blue orbs all over again.

His hands roam around your body gently, gaze scanning every inch of you with that worried expression plastered on his face. Moments like these show you with all urgency how much you really mean to your husband.

“I will kill every single curse walking on this earth to save you, (y/n)”, he speaks out with low voice, lips hungrily brushing over yours so strongly expressed that you feel like fainting.

“I’m sorry you were worried”, you mumble against his mouth.

“You’ll never get hurt by a curse again. I’ll make sure of that.”

[xxsugarbonesxx]

retired!Miguel rambling

🩷 I love domestic Miguel he is my everything

i guess this is head canons??? idk i just wrote what i thought felt right lol

mostly fluff, some smut, no gender is specified for reader,

though it doesn't go into depth, pregnancy and pregnancy sex is mentioned so read at your own risk 🩷

MINORS DO NAWT INTERACT!!!!

Miguel is naturally warm, his skin is so soft and warm. He smells like firewood and citrus, trust. In the winter you’ll lounge over his body like a seal on a rock in the sun. In the summer, you drag the kiddie pool from the back and fill it up. Dipping your feet in the cold water while you two watch the kiddos and dogs play in the sprinklers. 

He makes chunky babies. If you have the ability to get pregnant, most people will assume you’re having twins ‘cause how big your tummy is once you’re with child. But you just got one chubby little babe in there, and then they’re born with a whole head of their papa’s coffee colored curls. 

Piggy backing off the previous: once he gets out of his office in the Spider Society, leaving the Spider Man role behind, he’ll gain some weight. He’ll get that daddy pooch/dad bod going down, his pubes thick and curly. A whole forest is growing under his pudgy tummy. He doesn’t think shaving is that important once he’s settled down and has his kids but is willing to shave if that’s what you prefer. 

He did do the thing where he shaved his face completely to show the baby when they were around five months old. Popping out from behind the corner to show the babe his clean shaven face with you filming it. It all ended with all three of you crying and snuggling with the baby once they started sobbing and screeching since all they’re tiny life they’ve seen their daddy with a neat, salt and peppery beard.

And if you CAN’T get pregnant, (whether you’re amab or infertile) bro will be going at it with you like an ANIMAL. He’s got fat breeder balls, full of hot, sticky cum to pump into your needy hole. Once he’s cum, he’ll give one last thrust, nice and deep into your gummy walls. Plugging his semen deep inside you, keeping it there. After care in this instance is nonexistent, since he falls asleep on top of you, still deep in your guts.

He just likes touching you, if you’re alone in the car, waiting at the red light. His palm travels up and down your thigh absentmindedly as his eyes bore into the stop light. (He wears those glasses that turn into sunglasses when he goes outside, argue with the wall) Maybe he’ll get brave enough or the light still hasn’t changed for awhile, his hand will dip under your shirt, his thumb pad playing with your soft nipple until it hardens.

As long as you’re alone, he’ll have his hands on you. Six times out of ten it leads to actual sex.

I don’t think of him as a god in bed really, he’s just a guy. He’s gonna do what he thinks you and him are gonna like (what you want will always be top priority for him I know it) Acting on lizard brain, he’s gonna do what he’s gonna do without much thought beforehand. He couldn’t edge you to save his life, if you’re whining or crying, he’s just gonna let you cum, he just can’t say no to you. :(

Foreplay is always important to him though, mainly just because I want him to rub my back, I think he’d go for the whole massage thing. Spending a good amount of time rubbing and massaging your shoulders, back and cunny/cock. His hand is so big, he’d be able to grip the space between your thighs with one hand no issue. Rubbing back and forth until you cum from his hands alone. He likes to have you cum at least once before he’s actually inside you. He’s a gentleman after all. :))) His favorite positions are full nelson, side fucking, doggy style (I will die on the hill he’s more of an ass then a titties man I don’t care!!!) and face sitting.

If you can get pregnant, pregnant sex is even more tender and loving. Usually taking brakes to pepper your body and face with little kisses. 

@cupcakeinat0r wrote a tasty yummy fic about growing old with Miguel, and I’ve had that stuck in my brain since then. Around his forties, Miguel’s really mellowed out. He’s not as a perfectionist or cold and irritable as he used to be. Having kids has helped him calm more, having a more relaxed approach to problems now. Then his quick to anger, slow to calm back down personality when he was acting as spider man. Getting married and having kids has helped him realize that he doesn’t have to be the tough guy in the room. Though his kids are just as stubborn as him now. 

I love the domestic potential of Retired!Miguel, you two having a song, that’s your song as a couple. Cooking dinner together for your little babies. Having a show you two watch an episode or two of after putting kids to bed. Sitting on the couch, your legs over his lap, drinking wine with a kids movie on as your makeshift date night. 🩷

[suhkusa]

HELLOOOO i see you opened ur req👀 can I req for suna or atsumu suddenly getting a girlfriend, like hardlaunching her on social media, after almost a year of being on and off... can it be angst to comfort/fluff (pls i want to cope so bad from my prev situationship bahaaaaahahha) tysm just so u know i love u and ur works and prolly the first one to like em immediately>< <3

CASUAL.

PAIRING. Atsumu Miya x f!Reader

CW. hurt/comfort, angst to fluff, situationship-to-relationship lol

A/N. ouchhh i hope this is good anon ><

Being in a situationship with Atsumu Miya was the absolute worst.

Sometimes it felt like he was stringing you along in his little game, while other times it felt like you two were truly meant to be together. 

There were many invisible boundaries in the relationship, or talking stage, or whatever he wanted to call it, that were made without having to say a thing. 

It was mutually exclusive, so no talking to other people romantically.

You two didn’t post each other on social media.

The two of you would make it official when you both were ready.

The rules were easy to follow. Though, you had always been a bit iffy on the third one. When would the two of you deem yourselves “ready” when you’ve already been talking for so long?

———

The worst part about Atsumu, was that he was so indecisive. 

One minute, the two of you could be acting as if you were a married couple. Going on dates, spending time at each other’s houses, and late night calls. The two of you even had pet names for each other! 

But then the next minute, he decides his volleyball career is more important. Or that he’s too busy. Or that he wants a break. Or that you’re too controlling. So many excuses, yet every time he calls out to you to come back, you come running back head over heels. 

And it hurts. It hurts being with him even though you two had never made it official. How could you feel so tethered and intertwined with a man who never had the guts to ask you to be his and only his? Who never posts you on social media?

You weren’t controlling. You were just tired of this cat and mouse game. You just wanted certainty and reassurance. 

Was that so much to ask for?

Apparently for Atsumu Miya, it is.

“I don’t get it Atsumu, why can’t we just say we’re together? Everyone already knows we basically are!” you sigh. 

The two of you sat in his apartment as the TV played in the midst of your argument. This was definitely one of the worst arguments that had occurred between you two.

“If we’re basically together then why can’t you just be happy? Do I need to ask you out? To post you?” he rebuttals, his voice clearly agitated.

“Because! You haven’t asked me out. That stuff is the bare minimum yet I’m here begging. You’re so comfortable in this weird limbo talking stage where it’s so easy for you to leave me and then hope I come crawling back!” you cry, you hadn’t even realized you started to cry. “I’m so, so tired of this shit!”

“If you’re so tired, then leave!”

Usually during the short breaks of your situationship with Atsumu Miya, it was always him who had decided to call it off. But his words had snapped a cord in you that had already been thinned to its last thread.

The two of you share a tense look, both unmoving. It’s you who decides to break the silence.

“Me? Leave? Hah, fine. I will,” you’re quick to grab your bag on the side table.

“Wait, Y/N-”

“And don’t expect me to come crawling back to you, Miya. This time you really did it,”

He freezes when you open the door, eyes filled with tears as you look back at him. 

“Bye,”

The door shuts before he could say anything.

What was he supposed to do now?

———

If Atsumu knew one thing for sure, it was that he was stupid. 100%, a million times over, he was an idiot.

His concept of love and relationships were hindered during his high school days. The ability to commit was a hard idea to grasp onto. 

But you were different. 

You were kind and patient, unlike any one he’s ever known, and he was undeniably scared. Scared to lose you, scared to fuck up. And so what did he do every time he got scared?

He ran away and gave you some bullshit excuse. But even then, you’d come back time and time again.

But now it is different. He told you to leave and you really did. You wouldn’t come back to him willingly.

Atsumu’s stupid. That’s why he’s at your doorstep in the rain.

He rings the doorbell. He’s shocked when you open it on the first attempt.

“What are you doing?” your quiet voice says.

Atsumu takes in your disheveled appearance. You definitely had been crying based on your swollen eyes.

“I—” Atsumu can’t find the words. He’s really scared.

“If you’re going to yell at me or ask me to come back, you better be ready to beg me Atsumu, I’m not doing a stupid “talking stage” or some cheap crap you come up with,”

“I’m sorry, I-l fucked up really bad,”

You don’t say anything in response, allowing him to continue. 

“I love you so much,” he’s stuttering, “I’m really scared but I want to try with you, I want to be with you, for real this time,”

“And if I say yes, are you just going to leave me when it’s convenient for you?” your own voice sounds a bit hesitant. 

“No, no. I promise you. I mean everything that’s coming out of my mouth,”

You look like you’re lost in thought for a split second before you speak. “I’ll be with you, Atsumu. For real,” you smile as you mock his words.

Another moment passes by, and before you know it, you’re kissing him and he kisses you.

———

ATSUMU MIYA HAS MADE A NEW POST.

[tsumumiya]: my person ❤️

[yn.lnnnn commented]: ughh loves it <3 ure so cute ml

>>> [tsumumiya replied]: I LOVE YOU!!!!!

© all writings belongs to suhkusa 2024. do not repost or change.

[vad-hander]

YOU KNOW WE'RE NOT COMPATIBLE, RIGHT?

pairing: Haechan x reader

others: Mark, Jaemin, Jeno as Haechan's friends.

genre: smut | angst | fluff | college AU | fuck buddies AU to lovers | series

warnings: reader is mean and degrading towards Haechan throughout the fic (but nothing serious), mentions of drugs and alcohol, mentions of stealing, Haechan gets injured (breaks his leg, no graphic descriptions), explicit description of sexual interactions between Haechan and reader, unrequited love, reader has issues with showing her feelings, scared of other people's opinion, slowburn, romance

words: 8k

summary: despite being fuck buddies, both you and Haechan hated each others guts. he was a nosy, ignorant, attention seeking brat. at least that's what you thought, before he took you out for some bonding time. now you weren't so sure of your feelings or his intentions. it doesn't help that your friends seem to hate Haechan's guts too. you try to navigate your own feelings, while trying to please everyone surrounding you, sometimes at your own expense.

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

“Aaa!Aaaah!“ You felt a death grip on your bicep, three steps inside that boat and you were man - or better say girl- handled into the corner next to the table with snacks. Eunsoo continued to scream into your ear as she tucked you away from everyone else. “Oh my god!“

“What? What?“ You panicked, did she somehow sneak on you and Haechan? 

“I! Kissed! Jeno!“ She announced excitedly, hiding her mouth behind her palms, like you could see the evidence on her lips. 

“Oh, wow.“ You laughed light-heartedly. You really wanted to ask how did that happen, when she was convincing you to come because Jeno wanted you-

“Did anything fun happen to you?“ She suddenly paused and then looked down on you. Oh, wow. Where did that question pop from.

“Huh?“ You giggled and grabbed her forearm. “You’re asking about my fun when you and Jeno finally ended being pining idiots and got it on? What? Did y’all only kiss? You were out of here for like… what? An hour?“ You tried to at least estimate for how long have you and Haechan been glued to each other. Has it been hopefully less… did you by any chance disappear for longer?

“I was here the whole time, you, though… What did you do outside?“ She smirked and ran her eyes over the people behind you. Like she was trying to find someone, like she was trying to find Haechan. 

You were sure Pina Coladas and being horny played with your mind, no way Eunsoo played Sherlock Holmes now. 

“Watched the moon, drank Pina Coladas.“ You trailed off carelessly, rolling your eyes slightly and coming up with things you could’ve possibly done there on your own.

“For real?“ Eunsoo dropped her excited face expression, making you believe in your acting abilities all of a sudden.

“Ugh.. yeah?“ You asked creasing your forehead in confusion.

“That’s… interesting.“ Eunsoo mirrored your face expression. 

“Ya, anyway.“ You cut her off excited. “How did that happen? What did he say? That you’re the love of his life, I hope?“ 

“Ah- I actually kissed him first.“ She bit onto her lip obviously reminiscent. 

“Okay?“ You gestured with your brows for her to continue.

“He said he thought I was in a relationship because YOU told Haechan once, your roommate had her boyfriend over, and you had to leave the house.“ She raised an accusatory brow.

“Oh shit.“ You gasped, remembering suddenly how you randomly pulled up at Haechan’s place with no excuse and had to make up shit on the spot.

“I can’t even guess why would you tell him something like that-.“ She cut her own self off. “Anyway, Jeno connected the dots and assumed I had someone. I just had to let him know I didn’t.“ She shrugged, brushing her own hair behind her ear.

“I’m sorry-.“ You pouted, you didn’t want to tell her you just randomly felt like spending time with Haechan on a random Thursday evening or whatever day it was. 

“I had to run off, but we agreed on leaving together.“ she announced proudly, not even hearing your excuse.

“First time Jeno pl-“ you exclaimed excitedly.

“Yeah, that-. Jeno lives with Jaemin, who will already bring someone, and Jeno feels awkward when Jaemin brings people, cause they’re always loud-“ she monotonously started to explain.

“Ew. Excessive info.“ you cringed.

“Yeah, so I was hoping you’d agree for Jeno to come to our place…?“ she gave you a hundred innocent blinks in a nanosecond. 

“Dude!“ You gasped in pure shock, not a suggestion you expected “I’ll feel awkward too, huh.“

“Pretty please? I was in my room, when you brought Haechan, though.“ She smirked and your head spun. Not once did you fuck Haechan in your bed, not did once you made her go through that. Just ew. 

“We did school on that couch, not sex!“ If that’s what she actually meant.

“And if I’ll promise we won’t do that, in case we will at all, anywhere but in my room?“ her hands connected in a pleading manner. “If you don’t want to be outside the door maybe you could have a sleepover…?“

“And where do you want me to sleep tonight?“ You cackled because you were happy for them to finally work it out, you weren’t happy they were trying to do it at your own expense. 

“Ugh-.“ Eunsoo ran her eyes over the crowd, probably in search of Aeri or Sua, with the way her eyes widened and she waved, you were sure she finally spotted one of them. You turned around to see your friends, only being met with Haechan. He had his hair all wet and brushed back, you could guess he splashed his face with water. You checked out him head to toe, his body overall looking calm to your eye. You looked at him neutrally, turning to Eunsoo in full confusion. 

“What are yo-“ you had to stop and contain yourself with a heavy breath. Haechan grabbed your waist from the back, not in a sensual manner, but more of I need an anchor manner, leaning over your shoulder to get closer to Eunsoo, like he couldn’t walk over you and stand directly next to her. You extended your neck so his face wouldn’t be this close to you, in case in Eunsoo’s eyes this looked even more weird than in yours.

“Haechan, hi.“ Eunsoo spoke so sweetly, like when she needed something, and you couldn’t even wonder what she possibly could need from the boy that currently fought with your fingers that were trying to get his off your waist. You ended up with your fingers trapped between your back and his front, caressed carefully over the back of your hand. “Me and my roomie are having a fight.“ She announced, side-eyeing you.

“It’s not a fight-.“ You sighed, having an actual fight behind your back.

“Yeah? I’m intrigued.“ he chuckled and turned to look at you, somehow ending up explicitly close to your face, despite your effort to move away. You were struggling to take breaths as his eyes blinked heavily, suddenly forgetting whatever giggly vibe he had, lowering his gaze onto your mouth. 

“There’s a boy I like-, I want to bring him for movies! Movies!“ She exclaimed when you gave her a stare “And am asking her, kindly, to stay over at someone else’s.“

“Oh.“ Haechan smirked. “I’m sure you have options.“ satisfied grin adorning his face like he’s the happiest man on earth.

“No, I don’t. I only sleep in my own bed.“ You frowned. Even if you were losing control from his proximity, it wasn’t like you were about to eat his face off in front of Eunsoo. He really needed to stop with that face, god. You squeezed his fingers between yours to make him feel maybe a little bit of pain and move away. He was always so dramatic about minor hits and now you were putting the biggest effort to twist his fingers and the boy didn’t even bat an eye. 

“You stayed over at Sua’s many times last year when she needed us!“ Oh right, Eunsoo was still here, outside your little bubble. 

“This doesn’t count like at all-.“ it was a family matter, it’s not the same with wanting a boy between your legs, god. And the boy that seemed to really want to get between your legs found your waist with his free hand, leaning into your face more.

“Don’t be a bitch. Let your friend get some.“ Haechan’s shoulder bumped with yours from behind. “You have so many options for sleep over.“

“Ugh.“ You rolled your eyes, you hated him teasing you. Haechan very clearly was beaming with the idea he was the potential destination. “I’ll ask Sua, okay.“ You teased, he didn’t have to know you even considered his place.

“I’ll make sure she stays safe tonight.“ Haechan excused himself, pulled back from you, very tellingly grabbed your palm and led you off your friend without allowing you to tell her a word or two. 

“Thanks, Haechan!“ Eunsoo shouted after you two.

Haechan walked confidently, forwarding from the girl and holding onto you tightly, still. 

“Hey.“ You called out finally. “How do you know where Sua is?“ you wondered, dumbly assuming he was looking for the girl.

“I don’t.“ He shrugged. 

“Where are we going then?“

“My bed.“ he said it casually, like nothing could be any more obvious than this.

“I never said I wanted that.“ You caught up to Haechan as the two of you were walking the ground again. To no surprise, Haechan ignored your words, looking very busy, turning and spinning his head. “Are you lost? Are you trying to get to your house by foot?“ 

“Huh? No.“ Haechan stopped and let go of you, quickly pressing the button on the front door to unlock the car. 

“I’m not getting in a car with a drunk you-“ you protested.

“I haven’t had a sip of anything. I got here by car, why would I anyway.“ Haechan’s hands pressed against your waist, forwarding you towards the car.

“And why would you do that?“

“Had a feeling I’ll have someone very special to bring back with me.“ He smiled cooly at you, as his hands opened the door and invited you to the passenger seat.

“Still, I haven’t said I want to come with you.“ You took a step towards him and felt Haechan’s hand grab your palm and push you to him, only to intercept his hands and with an arm around your waist forcefully push you inside the car. You sat down with not much resistance, ready to buckle up, when Haechan leaned inside the car, forcing the belt carefully over your body and locking it into its slot. Haechan’s fingers smoothed the material over your chest, focusing his gaze on what his digits did.

“Starting from now on… if I asked you to stop being so hard to get, would you do it, for me?“ 

“If you asked nicely..?“ You smiled apologetically at him, Haechan’s head moving towards you at the same time yours did to him and with a little collapse of your noses in the middle of your way, you were still able to find his lips quickly, freezing in a moment with his mouth moving against yours with a lot of unspoken attraction. You bent your neck, sealing what he asked for with an unspoken promise that you’d do anything for him and his quiet thank you as he understood everything you told him. 

-

“Need clothes or you’ll spare me effort and get in here naked?“ he shouted from his bedroom and you shivered at the idea of getting in his bed in this new unspoken status you had. Would it be different? You wanted everything to be different, but at the same time keep everything as it is because you really liked him like that.

“I’m not fucking you tonight.“ you let him know, once again, the same way you did in his car and in the lobby and in the elevator, and at the door of his place. 

“Neither am I.“ he stroke you with a different answer and you actually had to walk into the room to see what made him change his mind.

“Yeah?“ You asked confused.

“Changed my mind last minute. A sleepover with the girl I like sounds even better.“ He cooed in a baby-girl manner, kissing your cheek sweetly, before moving his feet to the wardrobe. “Do you need pants? Or just a tee?“ His fingers ran over clothes that were neatly hung on hangers and even more neatly folded on the shelves. You tip-toed behind him in an outburst of feelings and in privacy of his room you suddenly felt overwhelmed at the idea you two confessed to each other your feelings, it felt so terribly foreign you had to make sure you didn’t make this stuff up, that you weren’t hallucinating off those Pina coladas. Your arms wrapped around Haechan’s torso from the back, burying your face between his shoulder blades. You could feel him puff a little bit of air out as he so confusedly, reached behind his back to touch your body and understand what you were doing.

“Baby love, are you still drunk on those cocktails?“ he chuckled with a very soft tone of his voice. Haechan’s fingers traced your arms, finally getting to your fingertips and you let him unlock them to entangle with his own. 

“No, I’m just glad I can do this now.“

“Oh.“ he mouthed, trying to unwrap you from him. 

“Can I hug you a little more?“ you murmured and felt actually drunk. Not on drinks, on Haechan, who seemed to be the main intoxication of the evening.

“But I really want to hug you too.“ He whined.

“Okay.“ you loosened your grip and in a second Haechan turned around, flashing you against him, your face now hiding in his neck and he was so right to ask for that because it felt so good to be in this cocoon of his love. You hugged his waist once again, his face rubbing affectionately against your neck. It felt so soothing, right until the moment his lips started to pepper little kisses and tickle your entire being.

“Aren’t human brains crazy?“ he spoke suddenly, making his way up your throat.

“Mmh?“ 

“Isn’t it crazy, that we like each other so much, but wouldn’t tell anything for months?“ his palms smoothed your hair back like you were a cat.

“Ah, should I say it wasn’t that long for me or should I agree?“ you smiled, rubbing your palm over Haechan’s cheek. 

“I know it’s hard for you to show me your vulnerable side. I appreciate you even more, because you work really hard to show it to me at times.“ his fingers squeezed your head in a funny manner that you guessed was supposed to show his affection.

“Mmh.“ You nodded and leaned in to press your lips against his. Haechan quickly caught up to you, moving his mouth in unison with yours, slipping his tongue inside your mouth. Your hands sneaked behind his clothing, stroking his bare back, sides and stomach. Haechan grabbed your shoulders, turning you to press against the wardrobe he earlier tried to find clothes in. “What are you doing?“ you smirked, moving your hands to the apples of his cheeks. Haechan’s fingers laced with yours, forcing your hands off him. 

“We’re not changing our minds, are we?“ he squeezed your fingers in his. 

“We aren’t, but kissing is not fucking, so why’re we asking?“ You tried to catch up with his mouth once again. Being deprived of such a privilege for months of stubbornness, you’d like to get your fill of him as fully as possible. You’d hug and kiss him all night long if he’d let you.

“Go take the shower first, I’ll wait for you here.“ Haechan ran his fingers through your nape, tangled up in your hair and kissed your lips in a quick lick. “Take whatever clothes you need.“ his hand patted the wardrobe door and he walked back, dropping on his bed face down. 

-

“Heeey.“ Haechan cooed above your ear at the sight of you cocooned in his bed sheets, eyes closed as you were very slowly dozing off.

“Hm?“ you blinked nonchalantly at him, holding back a stretch. You were trying to act innocent, it was way past your bedtime, it was cozy, quiet and dark and Haechan took ten million years in that shower. You had no other choice but to fall asleep. “What took you so long, huh?“

“I was there for no longer than 15 minutes. Not my fault you fall asleep quickly.“ Haechan pecked your cheek and rolled over you to the other side of the bed. “Good night, I guess?“ he mumbled in obvious pout, you could sense it even with your back. “Sweet dreams.“ His fingers patted your bum through the duvet. You had to turn around and see him for yourself. Even in the darkness of the room you could see him laying in the farthest corner of the bed from you, forcing a chuckle out of you that you tried to swallow resulting in a sound that sounded like you were choking. 

“So you take me all the way to your bed, for us to sleep on totally different sides of it?“ You crawled over to him and Haechan turned on his side, you guessed to see you better.

“I’m just trying to be considerate of your feelings.“ He continued to talk in a pout, like he was very hurt by you falling asleep.

“Suddenly?“ Your fingers patted his pouted lips.

“I always have.“ He pointed the obvious, you just wanted to tease him a little. 

“You have, you’re right.“ Haechan grabbed your fingers, trapping your hand in his, to move it away from his mouth. “I wonder though, what would you do, if you didn’t?“ Aren’t you the most cuddly, touchy-handsy person ever? I was fantasising how I wouldn’t be able to sleep because you holding me in your sleep would make my heart pound like crazy through the whole night. You wanted to say that too, but didn’t want to show your cards yet.

“I’d hug and kiss you all night long.“ he chuckled at the admittance. His own palm intertwined with yours covered his face. 

“I bet I’d love that.“ You whispered distantly. 

“Yeah, sure-“ somehow Haechan took this as sarcasm. 

“No, I’m sure I’d love that.“ You repeated more confidently. Haechan stopped the chuckling and very swiftly pulled your body to his side of the bed by the arm that was his prisoner previously. 

Haechan’s arms like tentacles wrapped over your body, forcing your hands around his neck. He moved so expertly, you wanted to tease and ask how many people he hugged in that bed before you. His thigh wrapped around your legs, giving you satisfying pressure of his body on yours and leaving you with no chance to move any of your limbs at all.

“Do you hate it?“ Haechan’s very hot breath on your neck made your heart tingle.

“No.“ you almost said you love it. “You know, they say it’s better to sleep under a weight. I guess body weight counts.“ Your fingers traced his nape, you tried very hard to stay up for him.

“I can’t believe tomorrow I’ll wake up and you’ll still be here.“ The sigh that left his throat made your head go dizzy. It’s like he couldn’t breathe properly before and now that the idea of you not leaving him at night was settled, he was breathing full-chest again.

“Not like I could get from under you unnoticed.“ you chuckled, not getting any reaction from Haechan. You had to add on top of that, you were too worried his feelings might’ve gotten hurt by what you said you couldn’t fall asleep anymore. “Not like I would ever want to voluntarily leave your hugs.“

“Good night, baby love.“ Haechan kissed your shoulder blade affectionately. 

-

A slap on your butt and you jumped in place, first feelings in your body being frustration and distress. A soft tap afterwards and all blood outflowed from your face for a reason. Aeri stood right in front of you on the other side of crosswalk and she had to be either blind or too preoccupied with her phone to not notice how Haechan’s hand landed right on your hip now.

“Hi, pretty.“ Haechan mouthed as your face turned in his direction. He smiled sweetly and it could’ve been a sweet greeting on your side too, but the traffic light turned green and the girl started walking in your direction. You grabbed his wrist, to force it off you and pressed it against his own stomach with a little tap of your fingers.

“Hold it in, please. She doesn’t know.“ Haechan mouthed an o as he acknowledged Aeri approaching. 

“He…llo?“ Aeri immediately questioned and you weren’t surprised. She was so uptight with Haechan it didn’t sit with you how someone could really hate someones guts to that extent. You used to hate him for how annoying and teasing he was, but it wasn’t to the point you could feel sickness in your throat with disgust and it kinda looked like Aeri just felt that - swallowing thickly the letters on her tongue. 

The girl grabbed your forearm and pulled you towards the building, ignoring the boy you liked completely. Haechan wasn’t the one to be flustered or taken aback. You don’t even think he felt sad with that behaviour, but you felt like you did so on his behalf. It’s been a little over a week since your confessions in mutual attraction and the very rare 3 times he tried to slide himself into your friend group didn’t go well. You cleared your throat, trying to fit in a word in Aeri’s non-stop blabbering. You could see Haechan following right behind you with his shade on the asphalt, reaching out blindly to his shoulder, forcing him to walk in one line with you two.

“Haechan’s here too. He bumped into me on the way, right?“ You shoot him a glance.

“Yeah, bumped.“ he cackled “On accident, with my hand.“ He widened his eyes, lifting the very hand he slapped you with, giving you an amused wink afterwards. You couldn’t hold back the eye roll. “Do you two always meet on that crosswalk?“ he tried to make small talk and your head turned to see Aeri’s reaction. Her eyes were set on her smartphone.

“Huh?“ She asked confused as your elbow hit her ribs lightly. Her eyes ran between you two and Haechan repeated himself in exactly the same wording. “No, I had an appointment and made it a little too early to class.“

“I think we’re going to be there just in time.“ You chuckled.

“Yeah, exactly.“ The girl nodded and re-linked her arm into yours. “I don’t see a point in coming too early. Everyone should be at least seated when I come.“

“Gotcha.“ Haechan’s head bobbed in confusion and his eyes questioned you, instead of your friend. “I didn’t know being fashionably late to classes was a thing.“

“It is. What’s the point in waiting for professors? If I’m 10 minutes late it’s never even properly started.“

“I could only wonder what things are more important in your life than being on time at school.“ He chuckled not offensively, just because he couldn’t understand her point of view even though he never stroke you as someone that loved to follow rules. You would tell him she just couldn’t wake up and get ready on time. Like, crazily never on time type of person, but she seemed to not want to give him that information. 

“So you’re never late?“ She sounded accusatory, your head going from one side to the other, while you tried to read both their emotions and deescalate the small talk at the right time.

“If I feel like I’m going to be late, I just get into my car and drive here. In other instances I walk, so no, I’m never late.“ 

“Yeah, sure. Cut the crap, dude.“ Aeri rolled her eyes. “You literally overslept your project presentation day.“ Yeah, right. You remembered not telling your friends anything about that when he told you the truth. Just a shrug of your shoulders when they assumed he slept in.

“I-“ he looked confused at the girl. “I didn’t, I had to deal with personal matters, FYI.“ 

“Of course. That’s what everyone says when they miss school after a party.“

“Sure.“ Haechan agreed sweetly and you were thankful. You guessed he was in a very good mood this morning. Not to lie into anyones face, you were walking on cloud 9 on your way to meet Aeri, replaying in your head Haechan’s sweet voice and words from last nights phone call. Is it too weird if I’m going to say that the past week’s been probably one of the happiest in my life? It wasn’t weird, you would tell him you were pretty much the same if you had the courage to be as open about everything with him. Having him on the phone before sleep felt so sweet and classy. It would only be better if he was right next to you, but for some reason he didn’t want you two jump back into that. “What is your first class?“

“Marketing in bulding 5.“ Aeri sighed. 

“Mine’s in building 2.“ You sighed too, as the three of you walked through the campus.

“Cool, mine’s in building 2 too.“ Haechan quickly replied, grabbing onto your wrist. “Let’s hurry to make it on time.“ He smiled politely at Aeri and walked off, forcing you to follow behind.

“Bye, see you for lunch.“ You waved Aeri off, and the girl waved back confused, turning away. “Isn’t your first class in building 6? Last night you sai-“ you moved your attention to the boy that pulled you behind him. 

“She walked away?“ He asked, slowing down a little.

“Yeah.“ You gave him a nod and Haechan’s eyes focused on you. You stopped, expecting an answer, building 2 and 6 were on completely different sides of the campus. Haechan lowered his gaze onto his fingers on your wrist, chewing on his lower lip in a thought process. His fingers crawled down to your palm, quickly running his fingers through yours. Before you could make any sound his hand guided both yours into his bomber jacket’s pocket. 

“I’m going to walk you first. If I’m going to be fashionably late to my class, no one’s going to die.“ You chuckled, squeezing his palm in yours. Haechan nodded slightly and returned to walking, his thumb stroking you on the way. 

“You know, how I don’t really feel like PDA…“ you started softly.

“Exactly why your hand’s sweating in my pocket now and not freely hang in the fresh air.“

“It’s not sweating.“ You protested with a chuckle. You honestly could agree with him, it was a little warm inside that pocket.

“It is, a little, just agree with me.“ He stated matter-of-factly. And you couldn’t hold back a smile. Gosh, what a stupid I’m-so-in-love-with-this-boy grin you must be having right now. 

“Anyway, don’t randomly slap me like that. First of all, I could’ve hit you. Second of all, what if Aeri saw this?“

“I think you kinda messed up the order of the reasons?“ He teased and you tried to pull your hand out of his hold in return. “Even if she saw that, what would she say? Oh my god my friend hooks up with this crazily attractive, funny, smart and all-you-could-ever-want guy? I mean, jealousy, yes, I’d feel that too.“

“Haechan, I’m serious.“ You pouted.

“I heard you, I got you. Want to go on a date tonight?“ He said in one breathe, you took a second to distinguish his words, right after giving him an excited nod. Haechan smirked at you, as you jumped in place slightly. Before you could process your moves, your other hand reached to his waist and you gave him a hug. Haechan’s free hand returned the gesture, pressing your body more tightly against his. “Okay, right after school or later at night?“ 

“Night, I think.“ You pushed yourself off him quickly, like nothing at all happened.

“Okay, with no intention to stay over?“

“With the very intention, but I can’t and will have to go back home.“ you couldn’t hold back sulking in your voice.

“I’ll cover for you.“ He smirked.

“Yeah, sure.“

“Just tell Eunsoo the truth, I guarantee you she’ll happily send you off on your merry way.“ You didn’t doubt your roomy, you very insecure in your own self. Not in a way you weren’t sure you liked Haechan - that thought very firmly sat in your head by now, you weren’t really yet there to let the whole world know about it and as much as you wanted to always stay true and honest to him you couldn’t just say that out loud. Haechan was so free and calm in that sense, you wouldn’t be surprised the whole world would’ve known without having an idea who you two were. The only reason he held back was how reserved you were. And he saw you being just that - he gave you time to adjust and open up to him more and eventually, open to people around you. But really, it wasn’t the time nor the place to get deep in your thoughts and you blinked at him. 

“You don’t know her.“ You nodded and Haechan stared at you funny. Does he… know her? Through Jeno, maybe. Not in a I’ve-been-sharing-pads-and-bras-with-the-girl-for-the-past-few-years kind of way and that technically meant he knew nothing. 

“Of course.“ he stretched out his lips in a grin. You weren’t sure if his mind was still on Eunsoo or on the fact you stood closely to him after the hug and his head moved closer to yours by a millimetre a second.

“Didn’t I tell you to slow down on PDA, my friend.“ You giggled, trying to sound scolding, as your hand caught his head, hooking your thumb over his ear, as he went fully in to kiss you. 

“Just a goodbye kiss.“ Haechan half-whispered, his hand finding its place on your waist. You had to give in since the feeling made goosebumps run down your side. Before he could even decipher what’s about to happen you pecked the corner of his mouth and took a paced step back. 

“Bye-bye.“ You waved at him, having to actually run backwards as Hyuck took a step towards you. When he lifted his foot to try once more you went for the same move backwards and he went through multiple feelings in a second, rolling his eyes backwards as his hand went down his face, biting down on his lip and chuckling to himself. You waved him off with a smile, only to be met with a scolding pointing finger of his as he walked away.

“Later. You’ll regret all this a little later.“ He nodded to himself, finally walking away. 

Oh boy, were you hoping he’ll make those words come true.

-

You were strolling through the alley at the Yeouido side of the Hangang park. You would’ve loved to go down to the river and touch the water maybe, but Haechan cried for at least five minutes how it was still hard for him to take a set of stairs and you would’ve had to carry him back on your back, if you’d convince him to go down to the embankment. 

You really didn’t mind though, not with the way Haechan’s thumb was caressing your thumb with every step he took. 

“I really hope that cherry blossoms didn’t all fall to the ground yet.“ you broke off the silence. It really wasn’t that late, but there wasn’t a single passer by on your way, except for a dog owner that crossed the road on the opposite side of it like 10 minutes ago. There were only half-empty busses, that brought some sort of sound into the scenery. You couldn’t love this district more - right next to National Assembly was your favourite spot to think and to enjoy loneliness, except for now you weren’t alone. 

“We should’ve went to that park with the waterfall I told you about. And during the day.“ he tried to sound nagging, but he really failed with the way his lips quirked up at you.

“Shh. It’s the best place I promise.“ you squeezed his fingers in yours. “The Cherry Blossom alley starts right after the crosswalk.“ You announce excited, stepping in front of him, to grab his full attention, your other hand lacing through his fingers as well. 

“Are you going to walk backwards?“ he asks amused.

“Yup. Focus on me.“ you really wanted to say it casually, but couldn’t resist smiling at his lovey-dovey stare. You took a step and then one more backwards, scrutinising yourself for making that decision, it really wasn’t that convenient to walk backwards on such flooring. Haechan somehow could sense you’re about to trip over your feet, as his hand lands on your waist right in time. Now you looked like you were dancing under the streetlight, with your hand landing on Haechan’s bicep, taking steps deeper into the alley. You had to force your eyes off Haechan’s intense stare for a moment, just to make sure a cherry tree was above you. It was. Still perfectly blossomed, and perfectly pink, illuminated by the street light. “Look up.“ You announce and raise your eyes back up first. The view of blossoming cherry was pretty, no matter how many years you spent staring at it - you couldn’t get enough of it and Haechan’s warmth was making the feeling even better. It felt so nice to stand there in comforting quietness with someone you liked so much. Actually, it was a little too quiet from his side. Did he… not like it? Your eyes fell back to the boy that held tightly onto your waist. The intensity of his stare forced you to swallow, it seemed like he didn’t move his eyes once off your face. “Will you?“ your eyes signalling up, only your mouth moving, but with the way Haechan’s gaze pierced through you, you’re sure he was able to read your lips.

“I’m in love with you.“ he whispered calmly.

“Haec-“ you were cut off with his heart-shaped lips. He paced his mouth against yours, you didn’t expect him to be so fierce out here at the cherry blossom alley. You let go of his shoulder, taking in your hand his pretty face. Haechan’s body was burning, you could feel him on fire as you snugged your body more against his. He wasn’t burning because he was sexually affected, no, it really didn’t seem like it. It was a different kind of warmth. It felt like he was burning inside from his feelings, he was overwhelmed with his feelings towards you and it made you feel totally overwhelmed because you couldn’t understand. How, just how. “How would you know that?“ You had to voice it to him, because it felt like you were hanging on a cloud. 

“What do you mean?“ he chuckled, tucking your head under his chin.

“How do you know you’re in love.“ You state dumbly.

“Because it crossed my mind that cherry blossoms would never compare to you in prettiness.“

“Hm?“

“If I’ll want to look at something pretty, I would just call you. You’re the prettiest to me.“ You wanted to tell him something, anything at all, but all words got stuck in your throat. “That’s why I know, and because just thinking of you brings me joy and comfort I’ve never experienced before.“

“I’m so sorry.“ you sigh into his chest, squeezing your eyes shut in sorry.

“Why?“  Haechan immediately worries, you could tell not only by his voice, but by the way his body stiffened in your hold.

“It’s hard for me to say it like that, to word these things to you in the same way. But it doesn’t mean I don’t feel the same way. As we walked here I was thinking how it felt nice to be in my favourite spot in the city with my… favourite man in the whole city of Seoul.“ you gulped and tried to catch a glimpse of his face expression, but Haechan pulled you in a tighter hug. “I would just love to stand here with you and have your body press against mine all day and all night. For weeks, months and eternity, because you bring me comfort.“ Haechan almost squeezed the life out of you, taking a couple steps to the side of the alley, to rest his bum against fencing. 

“Okay, let’s stay like this forever.“ He whispered into your shoulder and falling silent, you closed your eyes in utter cosiness, your fingers thoughtlessly running over his nape. Little waves of wind forced already bloomed cherry blossoms to fall onto your head and shoulders, but you couldn’t be less bothered to react to it.

“But just how introverted you have to be, for your favourite spot in the city to be this human-less corner next to the Assembley, baby love.“ Haechan broke off the silence maybe after eternity, maybe a minute, you couldn’t decipher how much time passed in that comforting drowsiness. He chuckled and rubbed your back for reaction. 

“Yeouido is the busiest during daytime, come on.“ You protested quickly, bumping your fist with his shoulder. “Anyway, I’m not deeply introverted, I have friends, I’m just shy with strangers.“

“Me too.“ he smiled.

“You really aren’t, come on.“

“No, I’m for real. I get all flabbergasted and unable to put two words in a sentence. It happens when I’m forced to present in front of people or get in a company with many strangers.“

“Wait-“ wheels in your head moved fast. “So what was the real reason when you didn’t show up at the presentation of our project?“ You weren’t mad, you liked him a disgusting amount, if he told you he didn’t come because he was scared to present, you would’ve kissed him and giggled at how cute he was.

“No.“ Haechan said confused, before his brain connected the dots. “No!“ he protested loudly, finally getting what you implied on. “No, I would’ve fought my fear of strangers for you. It really is just an accident-.“ you reached to his lips for a quick peck. A thank you, for saying he cares, for making you believe he cares with the way he talks and blinks and breathes. “I’m not going to lie, a very lucky coincidence, but still.“ Haechan rubbed your cheek affectionally “Actually, I never said it properly, I’m so sorry I left you alone that day. I was in agony before the trial began, and then they forced me to leave my phone at the entrance of court room. I was only able to reply an hour later and it didn’t seem like good timing and you ran to my place all mad and instead of saying the truth I decided to get on your nerves.“ 

“I was hoping you’d walk out after me when I stomped out of your place and bring me back to you.“ You admitted, your finger drawing lines on his shoulder.

“Fuck.“ Haechan reached to kiss you, but you felt only the ghost of his lips, as he pulled back. “I thought you hated my guts and I lost you forever.“

“And I hated your guts and stood behind your door for 10 minutes in hopes you’d kiss me apologising in your bed.“

“Fuck.“

“Yeah, that would do, too.“ you smart, getting an annoyed snicker off his lips.

“Stupidly plain humour, that’s one more reason I know I love you.“ 

“I love you.“ you murmur against the skin of Haechan’s cheek. Very shyly, but it feels so appropriate to let him know those feelings are very much reciprocal. 

“What?“ he pushes his nose against your cheek, in a blunt manner to tease you. 

“Ugh.“ Your eyes rolled, he could’ve not ruined the moment for you to repeat it louder. But oops, the moment fleeted. 

“One more I love you and I’m taking you straight to the registration office.“ 

“Shut up.“ You punch his chest and take a step back. Haechan’s arms slide down your bum, you ignoring his gesture. Your eyes focused on cherry blossoms that landed in the hood of his hoody, multiple of those. Your fingers picked up one, twirling it in your fingers. “You know that its good luck to eat the cherry blossom that fell on you?“

“Yeah.“ Haechan nodded almost immediately. Confusion almost made you give away your lie. There wasn’t such thing, at least you never heard of anything like that, you just wanted to joke with him. Well, if  he says he heard of it, then.

“Open your mouth then, prosperity, eternal luck, happiness and love await you on the other side of the chewing process.“ You twirled the blossom in front of his face, expecting a reaction, but Haechan plainly opened his mouth. Okay, not a reaction you expected. 

“Aaah.“ He even voiced his wish to get it over with quickly. Well obviously, he wouldn’t die from a blossom in his system, you put tens of these in your mouth every year, trying to take a pretty pick and failing each year, but somehow you still malfunctioned. 

“Did you really hear of such a thing?“ You creased your forehead in confusion.

“No, plain humour, didn’t I just say. I wanted to see where you’d lead it.“

“I would’ve led it in your mouth.“

“Sounds kinda funny, if you take it out of context.“ You squirmed and cringed.

“Ew.“ Haechan took the blossom from your hold and put it in his pocket. “What will you do with it?“

“Look.“ Haechan ignored your question, grabbing your fingertips with his long digits. His eyes trained on his hold and you lowered your eyes to it too. 

“What is it?“ You asked confused.

“We’ve been doing a lot of things for a little while.“ He started slowly, flexing his fingers over yours. 

“Mmh.“ there was nothing else to do but agree.

“We’ve been doing even more things for a long while.“

“Right.“ Your eyes caught Haechan’s stare, that he now moved to your face.

“We never talked about anything. You never asked why I asked you to sleep with me, you never told me why the hell did you even agree to that stupid idea.“ He snorted in an attempt to contain his laugh. “We did different things and hurt each other and now we’re here holding hands on a cherry blossom alley. I know you don’t like to talk about what you’re feeling much, but I do and I really need to talk to you about it all or I’ll go crazy.“

“I get it.“ You squeezed Haechan’s fingers in support, giving him a little nod. At least one person in this relationship didn’t have problems with voicing out his feelings, you smiled at him. “You can tell me anything. I’ll- well, I’ll try my best to do the same.“

“I really like you.“ Haechan sighed, heaved with feelings. It almost felt like he was about to burst with the way his eyes were glistening. You chuckled, not in a mean way.

“I know, I do really like you too.“ You let go of his fingers to cup his cheek and coo at how sweetly he was looking at you. 

“I liked you since the first time I took you to my place. The first time when we talked and you were hella drunk and I was too and I thought I wanted to kiss you even before I knew your name properly. And then we somehow ended up in my bed and I thought that we can lead this somewhere. But you ran away the moment I dozed off, and then that other time and the other. And all those times.“

“You should’ve said something-“

“I couldn’t, not when you were making that discussed face expression when you were sober, when you were seeing me at school. I couldn’t risk at least getting this much of you taken away from me.“

“I’m sorry.“

“No but it’s not like I’m asking for pity.“ 

“I know.“ You nodded and caressed his bicep reassuringly. “I would’ve never guessed you liked me. You acted like you wanted to sleep with someone and I was a chosen option. I never even thought we could be anything like that up until that boat thing.“

“You liked me only back then?“ Haechan exclaimed scandalised.

“Well-.“ You smiled. “Yeah. I didn’t have a thought like that before you dropped your head on my lap and after you did… I couldn’t stop thinking how fucking attractive you are.“

“I’m hurt.“ He pouted too playful for you to believe him.

“Why?“

“I thought okay, you didn’t like me maybe after our first or second time, because you were wasted and all that. But when you got to my place to spend the time together for whatever reason, didn’t you-.“ he paused and grimaced confusion. “I thought you liked me and that’s why you came.“

“I don’t think that was the reason. I’m sorry.“ Both your hands landed on Haechan’s cheeks, caressing his hurt expression, opting for a peck when it didn’t work out on him.

“Not even a little bit?“

“The tiniest bit? Like under nine locks deep down in my heart bit?“

“Okay, I’ll take that. Anyway, I liked you for a very long time. Just wanted you to know that. Wanna have a giggle?"

"Mmh?" You were expecting literally anything fall off his lips, you couldn’t wrap your head around this boy before your eyes turned into a very sweet mush because he was in love… with you. 

"I think the fact you were telling shit about me kind of made me fall harder for you." Okay, maybe you weren’t prepared for literally anything to fall off his lips. " Jaemin said once he thinks I have a degrading kink and I told him to fuck himself, but kind of being with you made me question if he’s somehow… right?" You  scoffed flabbergasted at his words. 

"Should I… continue, then… being mean to you?" You giggled, intertwining your fingers with Haechan’s.

"At certain point I started to feel like I never was enough, I was getting confused." You squeezed his fingers with yours.

"I’m sorry."

"I’m just glad we worked this all out. If I say it honestly, you’re partially a bitch and I’m a fan of those parts of you, but…"

"Shut up." You cooed "You’re so cheesy I can’t believe people take you as a bad boy."

"Who does?" Haechan chuckled in pure disbelief. 

"My friends, they say you’re a bad guy. That’s why I try to keep us lowkey."

"Maybe they’re just jealous huh? I am very much every girls’ dream." he made his palms go under the chin, to look all cutesy.

"You are very much right, I’m sure of it."

[rottingworship]

Beg and Bargain

The Proxies x Fem!Reader | Chapter Five

[Masterlist]

Summary: You find things you really shouldn't find, confront people you probably shouldn't confront, and do things you really shouldn't do. Things are only getting murkier.

Warnings: Suggestive themes, mentions of blood/nosebleeds, mind control, consensual mind control, non-consensual recording (?), mentions of alcohol

Word Count: 3.4k

Things just keep getting weirder. Toby seems to hate your guts and hates it even more when you don’t look at him. You can barely look Tim in the eyes ever since the incident in the woods. Brian has been acting off. And you are positive someone has been coming to visit.

You are still sleeping on the couch. There are three rooms in the cabin: Toby’s, Tim’s, and Brian’s. So, you stick with the couch, it’s probably the safest spot for you, you have decided.

No one seems to be getting along anymore and you have a nagging feeling that it’s you. You cannot figure out what to do with this information. It’s been keeping you from sleeping. It’s been almost about four days since The Operator has taken you in. Your vacation is almost over. And you are spiraling. Fast.

It is five o’clock in the morning when you wake up. You look around and see two doors open down the hallway. Tim’s and Brian’s. You are sure they are out doing whatever the fuck has been asked of them. You get up and walk to the kitchen. You had been able to buy some groceries, leaving you to have something to eat. If Toby hasn’t gotten to it first. You sneak into the kitchen, knowing Toby’s still in the cabin makes you uneasy.

You look around, scrounging through the cabinets. You move some stuff around and see a glass bottle glint in the lowlight of the kitchen. Your brows furrow and you grab for it. A bottle of whiskey. You suck in air and look around. You don’t know whose it is, but you need some. After the past few days, you’ve had… You need it.

You have not had anything to eat, there is nothing on your stomach. You don’t care. You just want enough to feel better.

You have not been out drinking in at least six months. You have never had a problem with alcohol. It just made you… loose with your abilities. When you drink, you have barely any control over what the fuck comes out of your mouth. Including the commands you throw at people. So, you had decided it was best to do it when there was no one to control. Leaving you to rarely ever drink.

You really do not care about controlling anyone anymore, so you drink.

It does not take long to take effect on you. You are playing on your phone, giggling and minding your own business. You really do feel like your problems are no longer, well, problems. You feel light, as if you are floating. You get up and walk towards the bathroom. As you pass Brian’s room, something catches your eyes. A camera.

“Hm,” You hum to yourself. “I didn’t know he liked recording things…”

Normally, if you were sober, you would have left it alone. That is none of your business. Yet, you aren’t sober, and you don’t care. You walk into his room, quietly. You look closely at it and ever so gently turn it on, looking at it. You fiddle with it briefly, about to set it back down in frustration when you can’t figure the damn thing out. Until you see a video. It’s you. Asleep on the couch. You think you’re going to vomit. The video ends. You go to the next one.

This one is in the woods. You make out that he’s hiding and there are two people ahead of him. Your stomach drops at the realization of who those people are. Tim’s jacket is undeniably noticeable. His mask pulled up to his head. You can’t see your face, but you know that’s from the other night. Then, it starts. You hear heavy breathing. Brian’s heavy breathing. You think you are going to be sick. You don’t feel so light anymore.

You hear Toby’s door open, and he walks down the hall. He is too groggy to recognize you are probably not where you should be. You stand still. He walks into the kitchen, and you hear him yell.

“My whis-whiskey!” He is pissed.

The front door of the cabin opens, and you debate whether you want to sprint out or hide in his room. The alcohol has you feeling a certain way. You rush out with the camera in hand, and as soon as you spot Brian you fly off the handle.

“What the fuck is this?” You are screaming, having been sent into an unbridled rage. Brian and Tim look at you in horror. They have never seen you so mad. Brian snatches the camera from your hand, and you immediately buck up at him. “Tell me what that is.”

“I don’t-” Brian grabs his head. He shakes it slightly. “Stop!”

You feel blood begin to trickle from your nose. “Tell me what this is!” You grab for the camera, but Brian is quick to maneuver away from you. Static begins to be the only thing you can hear. You let out a pained cry and grab your head. “What the fuck!?” Your head is pounding, and your nose will not stop bleeding.

They’re close… The Operator is close.

Toby rushes into the living room to see what you’re yelling about. You fall to your knees as Toby, Tim, and Brian try to figure out what’s going on. You can hear something being said but you can't make it out. Brian drops beside you and reaches for you. “Don’t fucking touch me!” You hiss, eyes on the floor. Brian’s eyes glaze over, and his hand drops to his side. Until you almost immediately release him from your mental grasp, and he watches you in terror.

“Make it stop!” You scream, a blood curdling scream. “Please, stop!” You are crying. Your nose will not stop bleeding. You know you need to calm down, if they are close, you have to stop. Your mind control is not going to work with the Operator around.

You are hyperventilating. You hear something in your ear. A voice, along with the static. You can make out certain words. Woods, woman, and information. “Okay!” You sob. “Okay!” The static and the nosebleed stop. You fall onto your back and let out a cry. Your eyes shut and you breathe out heavily. The wood floor creaks beside you and someone is crouching next to you. You hear it. He’s right beside your face. You feel it.

“You!” Toby lets out a groan. “You got into- into my whiskey!”

Your eyes open and you look over at him. Your absolute rage keeps you from being scared. You sit up and rub your head. Brian and Tim crouch down too and look a little more worried than Toby does.

“Hey,” Tim’s voice is level, soft. You look at him and wait for him to continue. “Have you ever been able to, I don’t know, mind control without looking at someone?”

You shake your head. “No.”

“Uh, you have now.” Brian gives you an awkward smile.

It clicks. You were not looking at Brian when you told him to stop touching you. Your eyes widen and your mouth falls open. “I’ve never-” You shake your head. “Look, I gotta go, before the reason I’m here gets mad and decides to not let me be here anymore.”

You get up and walk to the bathroom. You clean yourself up as best as possible and go to find a shirt to change into. Once you’ve changed and grab your sneakers, you push past Brian, Tim, and Toby.

“Where are you going?”

“I don’t know,” You shrug dramatically, “to get rid of someone probably!”

“I’m coming th-then.”

You shake your head. “I’m not going alone with you.” You may have sobered up by now, but you are still feeling the confidence that alcohol gives you.

“We’ll come.”

“No!” You shout. “I can do this by myself!”

Toby laughs, “N-no you can’t. You’ve killed one person,” Toby brings up a finger, it twitches as he speaks, “and that w-was under different circumstances.”

“I’m doing this by myself.” You walk out the front door. “I don’t give a fuck what you think.”

They don’t follow you.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

You have ended up at the crime scene again. You spot the policewoman from before and figure she’s your target. The scene is almost completely cleaned up. You think they would have moved on by now. The policewoman is looking for something. More evidence. Evidence of you.

You suck in air and walk from behind the tree.

“This place is off limits!” She puts her hand on her gun. You don’t stop walking. “If you’re lost-”

“Not lost.” You respond. You look at the blood stained ground and grimace. “Y’know,” you look at her, your eyes locking with hers, “I may have some information for you. About this case.”

“We can go to the police station-”

“Not necessary.” You shake your head. “Come here.” You watch her follow your directions. She listens to you effortlessly. Her face drops when she reaches you.

“How did you-” She goes to grab her radio.

“Do not call anyone.” Your anger from earlier is still coursing through you. “I wanna talk.” You purse your lips. “What do you know about this case? Tell me everything.”

She begins talking instantly. “John killed himself. He came back to his hometown to kill himself.”

“What about Ethan? Tell me what he says.” You cross your arms. You need to know.

“Ethan says someone made John kill himself. His ex. Ethan says John told him that his ex is a wicked woman, whose words hold more weight and power than anyone knows or believes.”

You nod. “Perfect. Thank you for cooperating.” You smile at her. Her face drops and her lips turn downward into a frown. Her hand goes to her gun again. You shake your head. “Do not shoot me.” You grab her arm and look at her a little harder, she does not look away. “You are going to go back to the police station and act like nothing happened. We did not speak. You did not see me.” Your grip tightens. “And tell Ethan that John was right.”

You release the officer, and she walks back to her car. She drives off and you sigh. You are grateful for not having to kill her. But you still can’t help but feel some sort of anger at yourself for what you have done. A tree branch breaks from behind you, and you tense. Your head snaps back and you step towards the noise.

“Brian?” You shout. You let out a low growl and begin to walk towards the trees. “I know someone is there!” You yell out again. The woods are silent. You shake your head and take your time to walk back to the cabin.

Cold air hits your lungs as you inhale deeply. You close your eyes and shove your hands into your pockets. You hear wood being chopped before you see anything. You are close to the cabin. You want to groan, but you refrain.

Your eyes spot Tim, he’s chopping wood. He looks great, you make a mental note of that. You try to not think too hard about it though. As you walk towards the cabin, Tim stops. He looks at you and puts his ax down. You keep walking.

Your name rolls off his tongue. You almost turn around, but you don’t. You keep walking towards the porch. The door swings open and Brian and Toby walk out.

“Did one of you follow me?” You stop and look between the three of them.

“No.” Toby crosses his arms, “Y-You said you could handle it.” He deadpans.

You feel much colder suddenly. “Then who the fuck was in the woods with me?”

They all look at you in confusion. “What are you talking about?” Tim asks, taking a step closer to you.

“I assumed that asshole-” You point at Brian, “was recording me again!” You cross your arms, glaring at him. “But…” You pause, “if it wasn’t one of you… Someone is in the fucking woods.” You look between them. “I know I heard someone-”

“What were you doing?” Brian asks. “I mean, you just sorta tore outta here…”

“I was taking care of some things.” You huff. “Doing what I was told.” They all stare at you, asking what it was you were told to do. “The policewoman Masky and I saw was back at the crime scene. I just- I told her what I needed to.” This causes all of them to tense. You roll your eyes. “Come on guys, I’m not a fucking idiot. I just figured out what she knew and tried to find some stuff out about Ethan. And then, I told her to forget she talked to me.”

“And it w-worked?” Toby’s lip turns up, his bandage on the other side of his lips moving up slightly.

“Yes.” You want to punch all of them, you think. “I can actually mind control people that are not you three without fucking dying from blood loss or a massive migraine.”

Toby seems about as done as you are. Except he acts on his feelings. “I’m ti-tired of your attitude!” He takes a step, leaping off of the porch. This causes you to flinch back. Fear like the night he chased you down comes flooding back. “See!” He points at you. “You- You’re a fucking pu-pussy!”

Your face contorts. Tim does not let you respond. He steps between you and Toby, placing himself in his line of fire. Toby does not like this. Brian takes a step off the porch and onto the steps. He’s watching closely.

“Toby,” Tim warns, “Leave it.”

“Shut the-the fuck up!” Toby begins to yell. “If she wa-wants me to stop she’ll have to make me!”

“Make you?” You peek from behind Tim. “I can’t use my abilities on you without consequences!” You are screaming. “I am not using them on you again! On any of you! You aren’t worth it!”

This sets Toby off. “Worth it?” Toby looks like he is going to physically move Tim away from you. He lets out a laugh, an angry laugh. You look at him in terror and confusion. “We are-aren’t worth it?” He stalks towards you, causing Tim to step forward at him. “You’re on-only here because of your powers!” Toby is seething. “You are weak and useless with-without them!”

“Toby!” Tim’s hands hit Toby’s chest. You want to run but that didn’t end so well last time, so you stay still. “Knock it off!”

“You’re just s-saying that ‘cause you like her!” Toby snaps at Tim.

“Like you weren’t in the woods jacking it to her?” Brian almost laughs out. It’s comical really. You don’t think so, but he seems to.

“You were record-recording her!” Toby turns to Brian and growls out.

“That was not-”

“Sorry,” Toby is directing his energy at Brian now, “that w-was Hoodie. My bad!” You are left watching this unfold. You feel like you are outside looking in. You want them to stop. They do not.

“You sound like a jealous bitch!” Tim yells. “You just want her so fucking bad, you look absolutely stupid!”

“I could say the same f-for you two!” Toby points between Brian and Tim. You wonder if you can get away without them noticing. You slowly take a step back, scooting away from the three. Toby scoffs, “I mean, l-look at how nice you t-t-two have been to her! You want her just as badly as I do!”

Oh. They all want you. Is that why Toby has been so mean? You don’t like that.

With that, you take off in a dead sprint. You have time to make some headway. You hope once you get into the woods that you can lose them easily.

“Hey!” Toby calls out first, causing Tim and Brian to turn to you. “H-Hey!”

You are gone. The three take off after you. You realize extremely quickly you are not in shape to be running away from three trained killers, but that does not stop you. Instead, you keep going. Even when you hear footsteps catching up to you. That is, until arms wrap tightly around your torso.

“Calm down,” Brian says in your ear.

“I think I’m acting totally normal after that confession back there.” You go limp in his arms, tired from running. You know you aren’t getting out of his grip, so what’s the point in trying? Toby and Tim catch up to the two of you. You are dangling in Brian’s arms.

“What was that?” Tim asks.

“I was running away,” You look at him. “I don’t know where. But fuck!” You begin to wiggle in Brian’s arms. “Anywhere is better than here right now.” You sigh. There is a silence between the four of you. “Can we just… Go back to the cabin?” You want to pretend like you did not just hear what you had.

“Of course.” Brian releases you. He stays close though. They all do.

You begin to walk back. Slowly and painfully.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

After taking a little nap you decide it’s time to eat. You sit at the kitchen table, eating a bowl of cereal. You finally got your bowl of cereal. You stare at the food in front of you while you eat. Your mind is completely blank. You are gone. You barely hear when the chair in front of you moves out and someone sits down. You look up and find Toby. Your stomach twists.

“Toby-” Your voice is a warning. “What?” He’s looking at you, his eyes won't leave yours. You swallow hard, placing your spoon down and giving Toby all of your attention. “Did you come to apologize?” It's the first thing that comes out of your mouth. You instantly regret it.

Toby recoils. “No!” He barks at you. He seems somewhat embarrassed about what he wants to ask. “I want y-you to practice your mind control o-on me.”

You want to laugh. Genuinely. “Toby. Do you want me to get a headache and a nosebleed?” Now, this? This is comical. “I already said I wasn't going to use my powers on any of you.”

“You we-were able to control Br-Brian without looking at him.” Toby crosses his arms.

“You want me to practice on you because of that?” You question him. “That was probably a fluke. Why do you want to help me?”

Toby slams his hands against the table and stands up. You are growing tired of this. Toby turns to walk off. “Toby…” He doesn't turn back around. You inhale deeply and close your eyes. “Toby, why do you want me to control you?” Blood almost immediately trickles from your nose. Nothing you can't handle though.

He stops dead in his tracks, but he still doesn't turn around. “I can fe-feel something.”

“What?”

“Do it a-again.” Toby turns around to you.

“No!” You grab a napkin and wipe your nose. “Toby, I'm going to get-”

“Let me g-guess… Tim.” Toby rolls his eyes. You tense as Toby stalks back towards you. “Y-you seem to like him the most.”

He is jealous. You stand up from your seat and look at Toby. He's on the other side of the table, leaning towards you. “Why do you want me to use my power on you?” You ask again.

Toby’s eyes glaze over, and he begins to talk. “I have CIP, I don't feel pain like most people do.”

It clicks. You release Toby and wipe your nose again. He wants to feel something. You hum and look at him. You debate on asking him about Brian and Hoodie, or Tim and Masky. “What’s up with Brian and Tim?”

“They have dissociative identity disorder.” His answers stay short and sweet. You nod at him. Toby takes in a deep breath and watches you. He twitches slightly as you stare at him. “What?”

“Do you want to continue?” It comes out sassier than you want it to.

“N-N-No,” He turns and walks off. “I gotta go-” He cuts himself off and begins to walk to his room. As he walks off down the hall, you have an inkling of an idea of what he’s going to do. You try not to think too hard about it.

That doesn’t work. All you can think about is what Toby could possibly be doing. You have not relieved your own stress in so long… You aren’t hungry anymore. You need release. How the hell are you supposed to find that in a house with three men without them tormenting you about it? You need to find something out. And fast.

[malewifeharem]

yandere!malleus alphabet

彡- ,, yandere twst malleus alphabet (template from @dear-yandere eheheheh)

cw ⁞ violence, blood, manipulation, just general yandere behaviour??? kinda suggestive in K. not proofread.

an ⁞ feel free to req more of this for other characters only from om! for now :')

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

VERY INTENSE, to say the least. fae are known to be very territorial and possessive and malleus isn't an exception. he likes to shower you with affection and expensive gifts such as jewels or gold and doesn't allow you to 'reject' them. he has no objections to locking you up somewhere he can keep his eyes on you or starting wars with other kingdoms if it means that you'll be his.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

he definitely wouldn't mind getting rid of any nuisances getting in between the both of you but he always makes sure to clean up before you arrive. the scene is extremely gruesome — blood and guts would basically be in every crevice of the room. he only manages to get rid of the stench with his magic, so he tries to not kill people too often, lest he ends up overblotting and harming you.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

nope nope nope. it doesn't matter how pathetic you look when you cry, he could never ridicule you like that. you just need to get used to your new environment! can't you see that he really wants the best for you?

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

his gifts and affection will be reciprocated, whether you like it or not. sure, he'll be more lenient if you've only just been captured but you can't keep shunning him away! will tie your wrists and ankles together to get you to stop struggling during naps and cuddle sessions. he has slipped love potions into your food before too.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

you and lilia are probably the only people who know about his... aggressive tendencies. he'll often times weep at your feet inconsolably — crying about how much he loves you and how it hurts when you don't feel the same way. as if that wasn't uncomfortable enough, he'll suddenly start rambling on about how you'd love his tower in briar valley and that you'd have no need to ever step out of it. humans like living in that kind of luxury, right?

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

fight back? against the 5th most powerful magic wielder in the world? yeah, good luck. he would never intentionally harm you, but you're really breaking his heart like this. he simply doesn't understand why you're so upset and just tries to calm you down to the best of his abilities. this is just a small lover's spat, it'll all be over soon!

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

he does not find this funny, he takes it very seriously. what's wrong with what you have now? do you not like his gifts? why do you keep trying to run away? he's very confused and hurt — nevertheless, he always manages to catch you, leaving you right back where you started.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

before your abduction, you were still the human transfer student at NRC, you were still allowed the freedom to talk to anyone you wanted. malleus knew you and leona were quite close — the lion male having a small liking towards you. he was already quite irked at the sight, but he snapped when you hugged the lion, enchanting the whole vicinity with his signature spell — causing everyone to fall into a deep slumber. that's when he took the opportunity to lock you up in his room and you've been there since.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

he hopes to marry you one day and have you rule briar valley with him as his rightful queen. he definitely wants to have a family with you too, he does need to continue his royal fae bloodline!

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

YES. he tries to talk to you and hear whatever complaints you have but it's all in vain. he refuses to believe that you loathe him. he'll stand there in silence before quickly excusing himself — you don't see him for a few days. what does he do during this time? oh i don't know... maim whatever friends you have left? (ehe!)

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

he's very sweet. he has never felt so strongly for anyone before and he's going to give all of his love to you! he's constantly touching you, whether or not it's wrapping his arms around you or marking you up with bites. it's how fae show affection for their loved one! he'll charm you with his honeyed words — praising you when you're being obedient in the daytime and gently lulling you to sleep by night.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

before your abduction, he'd slip beautifully handwritten letters into your locker. however, it has no sender — your only clue as to who it was being the bright green wax seal. you thought it was just a random diasommnia student and didn't think much about them till the contents of these letters started becoming increasingly disturbing. saccharine poems of love and his promised reveal turned to bitter jealousy and rage at your 'infidelity' to him. how dare you speak to other students, especially those from his own house! you stopped receiving letters entirely but malleus suddenly started showing up at ramshackle dorm more often.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

sort of? lilia is the only other person who knows about his treatment of you. to everyone else, he's still unapproachable and cold. only you get to see him all pathetic and vulnerable. (manfailure)

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

being locked up in his room means zero contact with the outside world — you wonder how ace, deuce and grim are doing. solitude was enjoyable sometimes, sure, but you haven't seen anyone who isn't malleus for weeks. imagine the horror when even he stops showing up! this silent treatment usually ends within a few days because it breaks his heart to not speak to his darling too.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

you're pretty much deprived of social interaction. i hope you have an interest in gargoyles.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

he's surprisingly patient. his punishments are all quite tame — none of them being harmful to you. he understands if you need more time to get used to your new life but make him wait too long and he might slip a love potion into your food!

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

no. just no. if you died, he'll find a way to resurrect you — charm, potion, curse, spell, anything. trying to escape from him isn't something feasible for a human. you're stuck with him forever!

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

your cries of sorrow does bring him a sense of guilt and regret but the thought of letting you openly roam free again brings him more rage and worry. try convincing him to go out with you to a secluded area — he might agree if he's in a good mood!

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

poor dragon boi has lived for almost two centuries with no one he can consider a friend :( everyone's too scared or cautious of him to talk normally. so when a sweet fragile human like you treats him so nicely, he might just tear up. especially since you continued to do so after learning of his identity.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

( already kinda answered in C and F)

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

(i don't think so? define classic yandere :'D)

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

he's so patient and kind, if you play your cards well, you might be able to convince him to let you out for a little while — under his supervision, of course.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

intentionally, no. never! he has definitely damaged (killed) whatever social life you had before and your freedom but it was mostly unintended! (yea ok malleus...)

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

he likes to think that you two are equals — you as his bride, wife, future queen. he treasures whatever shred of affection you give him but i don't think he'd ever reach the point of kissing the ground you walk on or anything like that.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

(read H) in order to get to that point, he's already been tolerating your 'unfaithfulness' for a few months.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

probably. he already uses love potions on you, who's to say he won't make it permanent?

[holdinbacksecrets]

Hi! Can you please write BTS version of the voicemails they will send hinting their feelings? Thank you 😊

thank you for requesting 🖤

voicemails from bts, hinting feelings

namjoon: “i was in a bookstore the other day and started to imagine a book you wrote being on the shelves someday. everything you do, down to the indentation of your steps, leaves behind a story. do you remember your birthday two years ago? you drank one glass too many, and it’s like the fiction unleashed. i recorded a voice memo, but i never played it for you. i want to.”

jin: “are you scared? this morning you sounded really scared on the phone. i’m sorry i didn’t say more or say enough. i was caught off guard because you’ve never showed me scared before, not like that. i’ve seen your apprehension. i’ve seen your insecure. i’ve seen your anxiety, but this was consuming fear. i’m making dinner, and i feel like you probably haven’t eaten today… if your anxiety gives anything away about your scared. come over when you’re off. i’ll greet you with a hug and bowl of soup. or two bowls. i have cheese and bread too. the good bread. the loaf you turned me on to.”

yoongi: “you used the notes app on my phone to write out your grocery list, and i’m amused. it sounds like you’re having a conversation with yourself: right now, i want rice crispies, but i’ll probably change my mind once i’m in the cereal aisle. trust your gut, or get two boxes. you’re 26. no one is stopping you. oh! get some apple juice too. i keep having dreams about twelve year old me at a friend’s house. we’d sit at the kitchen island after school with graham crackers and apple juice, and i miss her. i miss those simple conversations. you’re so pure and magnetic. sometimes i wonder where you came from, but then i’m just glad you made it here—tumbled into my life because you did tumble. you’ve always made the story sound too elegant. the tumble was charming, i promise.”

hoseok: “you’ve been sharing recipes with me, or i guess i should say the final product of your recipes has been shared with me, repeatedly, and now i’m starting to wait for the knock on my door or the ring of a text. is that bad? i wouldn’t want you to ever think i’m demanding treats, but i love… i love the time we spend together when you bring them over, and your eyes sparkle when my expression changes because of how good everything always tastes… i love that too.”

jimin: “did you say everything you needed to yesterday? i swear your lips parted and you leaned in so many times to never say anything. i know it was a busy place, and it’s not that fun sitting at a table for twelve. but i was ready to listen. i’ll be ready at 2 am too. whatever you need. there’s something to this, right? to the ease of our conversations. you trust me?”

taehyung: “do you want to sculpt clay with me? i bought a whole bag and a bunch of tools. i thought about booking a private lesson, but i wanted my record player and access to a kitchen and the ability to get my hands dirty whenever i want to—need it. do you need it too? if not, keep me company while i try to make something?”

jungkook: “can i pick you up today? this is going to sound ridiculous, but your smell used to linger in my car, and i can’t quite make out the notes of your perfume anymore. i can imagine them, but they don’t meet me when i open the door… i can’t leave this as a voicemail on your phone. can i leave this as a voicemail on your phone? i sound insane.”

bonus: “i’m calling to tell you i’m proud of you. sometimes when we were kids, i used to think our dreams wouldn’t make it higher than the trees. i thought they’d get caught in the leaves, die on branches come winter, but look at us. look at you. you’re incredible. we did it.”

[kaeichi]

love is in the air.

. . . and maybe that's why mikage reo can view the world with such clouded, pink-hued vision, and why nagi seishiro cannot breathe at all.

series. nagi + reader + reo. gn! reader. reader likes guys. bestfriend! nagi. valentines/white day. highschool setting. swearing. humor. fluff & angst.

prev ┊ next ┊ 01 … 02 … 03

⊹ 02 : radiant [wc: 4.6k]

TWO YEARS AGO

“ah…found you, finally.” 

nagi huffs out, slightly out of breath as he leans against the railing of the staircase on the fourth floor. what a damn hassle, making him expend such excessive effort like this—it all could've been easily prevented if you just replied to his text asking you about his whereabouts. he figures your phone must've died, because there's no way you wouldn't have noticed his 7 texts of wya? in a row.

“been tryin’ to look everywhere f’you. next time, can you just tell…” he trails off once he steps closer and realizes you're not alone.

“seriously? him again?” your boyfriend len scowls, directing his caustic gaze at the topic of interest, who has conveniently decided to show up at the right moment.

except nothing about this is right at all. 

there's no good explanation as to why you feel your heart plummet. your best friend, your only trusted companion whose mere presence incites a familiar sense of comfort and an effortless, breezy smile from you; when you're with him, you don’t have to think much about the reasoning behind why he has that sort of ability, or why it feels like you're right at home whenever you're with him.

you just somehow know. and that's how it has always been.

being with nagi is supposed to be easy, calming, and freeing, even—so why is there a heavy pressure weighing down on you all of a sudden? despite everything, why has he suddenly become the last person you want to see right now?

“seishiro?” apprehensively, you ask, “what are you doing here?”

“i just came to get you. like usual.” while there's nothing wrong with what nagi says, you still inadvertently wince, hesitating to meet either male's eyes as an unpleasant feeling brews in your gut.

“yeah, but i told you i was gonna be with my boyfriend…”

here’s the thing: it's not like nagi doesn't know you have one. 

when you first told him about it, he thought it was a joke (a hilarious one, at that). he thought it might've been one of your delusions again, and in typical nagi seishiro fashion he only spared you a fleeting glance with heavy-lidded eyes and a congratulations, i guess in the most listless tone. and when you told him to go on ahead because you wouldn't walk home with him today, he failed to take it seriously once more, thinking it was one of your weird ‘loyalty pranks’ to see if he would actually go and leave you behind.

but when he didn't feel the usual tug on his shoulder, or your arm resting against the top of his dozing head to wake him up at the end of the class, he thought there was something slightly off. when he looked around and saw no trace of you around the classroom or even around the front of the school, he thought there was something really wrong.

nagi’s starting to find this stupid joke less and less funny.

could all of the previous days (or has it already been weeks?) you’ve been talking about this mysterious nobody be true? he should’ve paid more attention. so, yes—it's not like he doesn't know you have one, he just had a rather hard time believing it (though he doesn't know it's due to the fact that you are you, or because maybe he's just in denial about it).

what annoying, annoying jest. when did this so-called “relationship” even have the time to blossom? 

“oh…did you?” the white-haired male’s voice doesn't come out as smooth as he’d like. he scratches his neck, feeling it a bit clogged for whatever reason. he's glad he's not the type to wear his heart on his sleeve, because even if his voice betrays him, he can at least keep his expression neutral. “well, i’m here now, and i don't wanna walk home alone. i kinda forgot the way back, so i need your help—”

“seishiro!” you hiss, your voice clipped and bordering on desperate; a warning, one that goes right over nagi’s head.

“you know what?” a peeved voice cuts in—len’s, whose patience has worn thin. he has had enough of nagi demanding your attention that was supposed to be reserved for him. if you can’t even keep your eyes solely on your boyfriend, then you might as well be a good-for-nothing cheat. “forget this. i don’t think we’d ever work out if this continues.”

“w-what? wait, huh?” as your face crumbles, nagi is unable to grasp why he feels a faint throb in his chest at the sight. “let's talk about thi—”

“right, let's talk about it, hm?” when you finally meet len’s eyes, you’re barely able to recognize your boyfriend at this point, his taunting sneer morphing his face into someone completely different. is this really the kind, alluring lover that you fell for? “be with me, or cut off this… this nagi kid?”

“what? where did this come from? you can't just suddenly make me choose—”

“and there's your answer.” he scoffs, slapping your hand away that's unconsciously reaching out to him before turning around to leave. in a few rigid strides, he's gone, and you're left staring blankly at the space where he just was.

it is nagi who breaks the silence after a few moments. “…guess this wasn't a good time, huh?” nagi sighs, gripping the strap of his backpack tighter as you remain frozen. “well, at least we can go home now.”

“nagi.”

confusion clouding all over his face, he slightly perks up at your somber tone, a hint of unease setting in his stomach. he doesn't like whatever this is that he's suddenly feeling. “why’re you calling me nagi?”

“i think you know why. leave me alone, nagi.”

for quite some time after, those words remain the last thing you've said to him.

nagi has always been somewhat aware of his inability to comprehend feelings, whether it be his own or of others, but this time is the first time he's ever bothered by his lack of aptitude; the first time he's ever felt this swirl of foreign emotions engulf him, of strange, unknown sensations rushing to him all at once. what started as a mere bud sprouting along the expanse of his lungs, grew double—no, triple in size within a matter of days, poking and squeezing the spongy organ until its function proved near useless. 

the abundance of petals produced by these excrescences is nothing but a nuisance, blocking his airways and tainting his tongue with the bitter, awful taste of decay, which only seems to get worse with each passing week without a word from you. it's a pain, it's majorly vexing, it's—

“leave me alone, nagi.”

—it's suffocating.

PRESENT

nagi still refuses to join the soccer team.

in the hallways, reo somehow manages to always find you and your companion throughout the day, greeting the both of you with unmatched enthusiasm—the kind that someone really shouldn't have at seven o’clock in the morning. everytime that happens, reo is only met with the same, vacant stare, accompanied with a blunt no without much thought.

after all, he's not the only one who came to recruit the white-haired genius. the volleyball, basketball, and softball clubs (even the cheerleading team, for some reason?) have all tried, to which he instantly shut down.

“why would i participate in sports? even walking is tiring to me,” is his simple reasoning every single time, without fail.

at some point, reo tries to bribe him with a brand new gaming console as a “customary gift”. not that there's anything customary about that, but you suppose rich people live in a different world than you common folks do (when you found out that reo arrives to school in a goddamn limousine, you've lost all interest in being more than acquaintances with someone as absurd as that).

however, that is when reo finally manages to elicit a reaction from nagi, a slight sheen in his eyes that made you immediately panic, dragging him away before he gives in and telling him accepting anything from mikage? i think the fuck not! (“why not?” “because we don’t want to get in debt by someone like him!” “oh, we don’t?” “yes, dummy! next thing you know, we keep ‘borrowing’ money from him and eventually when we can't pay it back, he ships us off to some remote island and makes us his slaves for the rest of our lives because we couldn't afford our debt!” “you watch too much horror movies, i think.”)

however, as irritating as one’s persistence could be, deep down you hope nagi accepts reo’s invite. you've always known about his underutilized potential, and how he himself is the only thing that's holding him back.

truly, a waste that is.

“i know that rich boy’s been really annoying about it, but why don't you try it out? even just for a little bit?” you ask nagi, having stayed behind during lunch in your classroom instead of heading to the crowded school cafeteria.

“don't wanna,” he mutters against his arms, head buried against the desk.

“why not? our teacher’s been hounding you for not being in a club, right?”

“i’ll just join the book club or something. now go away,” he says, probably trying to catch up on much needed rest, despite already sleeping through your morning classes.

“you slacker. just try it out so mikage stops bothering me too.”

nagi suddenly lifts his head up. “he’s bothering you?”

leaning your elbow on the desk nagi’s lying down on, you press your cheek against your palm as you snicker at his sudden mood change. “mhm. won't you save me, your one and only best friend? the one you swore to protect until the world collapses? me, an innocent, pure ethereal being who's cruelly subjected to harassment and—” 

he breathes out a long exhale. you brace yourself, racking your brain as you try to think of more ways to persuade him (without including the promise of reo’s “prize” or whatever suspicious deals you're sure the heir is involved with). 

however, in nagi’s perspective, it's not because he needed any more convincing, but because he can't believe he's actually willingly to participate in something so bothersome for someone's sake. “…fine.”

“wait, actually?! for real?” with your eyes nearly popping out of their sockets, nagi almost snorts at your ridiculousness. almost.

“you're the one who kept telling me to go for it, so why’re ya surprised?” 

his sleepy voice gets drowned out by your excited chattering. “wow, nagi seishiro is actually interested in something else other than napping and gaming? no way! noooo way!”

“it's annoying, but yeah.” he grimaces, regret already sinking in—but since he's doing it for you, he supposes it's alright. just this once, he can make an exception. “…you're coming with me, right?”

a pause. “um… no? unless you want me to be the token benchwarmer?”

“ah, fair.”

“yeah, yeah. besides, i’m already in debate club, so me joining you is out of the question.”

“not even as our manager?”

“nope.”

nagi visibly sulks, lips forming into his signature pout. cute. it almost looks like he's at a loss of what to do without you—maybe it’s a result of you and him being stuck together at the hip since middle school, and how he's grown dependent on you due to his lazy nature, but you're sure he'll survive on his own.

…probably.

“i’ll come watch your games though,” you quickly add in case he backtracks on his word, reaching over the desk and tousling his hair, messing it up even more. he doesn't complain like how he usually would, merely blinking his wide gray eyes at you. “i mean, what kind of best friend would i be if i didn't support you?”

that seems enough for nagi. he straightens up, a hand running through his now disheveled white locks, peering at you with a newfound motivation. “better keep your eyes on me, ‘kay?”

you grin, nodding. “duh. goes without saying, loser.”

sometime after that, reo, nagi, and yourself have now fallen into some sort of routine: nagi now has practice on thursdays and fridays after school, but sometimes reo swings by unexpectedly during lunch on those days to discuss with nagi what their training plans would be after school (unable to wait until the end of the day, apparently). not that nagi actually listens, but he has come to a realization that it’d be too much work if he were to refuse him, so he just lets him do whatever he wants.

would it be foolish to think that reo would let up once he’s gotten what he wanted? if anything, his apparent interest grows even more, which only encourages the rumors that are recently circulating about you. girls still glare at you in jealousy, while guys sneak judgmental glances at you, but reo manages to clear up any misunderstandings using his natural charm and influence, so you're fine for the most part. how thoughtful. well, it's his fault in the first place anyway. 

for some reason, you see him a lot more often than necessary.

…like right now, for instance.

when a flash of purple appears in your peripherals, you turn, met with the sight of reo’s handsome figure hovering by the doorway. the tall male is hanging rather stiffly in the middle of the entrance, as if unable to decide whether to come inside or not.

“mikage?” you decide to call him out. “what are you doing here?”

he flinches, akin to a deer in headlights. what's up with that reaction? is he not supposed to be here or…? “huh? well, i’m here for nagi, of course.”

“right.” you nod curtly. it's monday today; they don't even have practice until the next few days.

but even then, reo has picked the worst time to drop by, because nagi isn't even at school today. (surprise, surprise—he slept in. again.) just as you are about to bring that up, reo casually ambles over and pulls a seat back, sitting across you with a sheepish smile on his face.

by now, you've grown familiar with the scent of his cologne wafting in the air whenever he's nearby. it's a delicate yet expensive scent, fresh and woody, like musk with hints of apples and mint. a vast difference from nagi’s, whose smell is more down-to-earth, like fresh laundry and the breeze of early mornings.

other than the questioning glance you offer him, nothing happens for a few moments. reo opens his mouth as if to say something, but when nothing comes out, he reverts back to pursed lips and skittish glimpses. it's off-putting how he seems to struggle with striking up a conversation for once—you start to feel a bit awkward about the stretched silence, so you just shrug and continue eating from your bento. as long as he's not bothering you too much, you don't actually mind his company.

“want some?” noticing how you're the only one eating lunch, you absentmindedly bring up the chopsticks close to his mouth, urging him to take a bite out of your tamagoyaki.

that seems to finally snap reo out of his inner strife, his violet eyes widening as they flicker between you and the food, “y-you're feeding me…?” 

ah, crap—you’re so used to feeding nagi that you didn't even think twice before bringing the neatly rolled omelette to his lips. before you can retract your hand though, reo quickly composes himself, enclosing his fingers on your forearm to prevent you from moving away. “okay, i guess,” he mutters shyly before taking a bite.

a slight relief fills you as you watch him accept your offer, though that quickly turns into nervousness. “well? how was it?” you ask, observing the purple-haired male chewing carefully with a finger on his chin.

“did you cook this?” reo returns with a question of his own, peering at you through his lashes.

“you didn’t answer my question…”

“hm. did you?”

“what, is my cooking not good enough for the great master mikage reo’s superior taste buds?” you roll your eyes, feigning nonchalance as your face warms at the fact that he's deliberately avoiding your questions. you half-expect him to spit out the food; now that you think about it, surely he wouldn't enjoy eating something so bland and second-rate—

“hmm, not sure. i might need another bite to fully understand the flavors.”

you blink dumbly at reo’s coyness. well, he doesn't seem to outright hate it, so that's better than you are initially expecting. when you push the bento closer to him, he only stares at you expectantly, as if waiting for something. you stare right back, muttering, “what is it?” 

“uh…actually, i broke both of my hands. and my fingers too. all ten of them.” reo blurts out, simultaneously hiding his hands away from your view.

…what.

this is the second time you're at a loss for words because of reo. perplexed, you lean in, trying to take a peek behind his back. “your fingers seemed perfectly fine when you grabbed my arm.”

“well, a lot can happen in two seconds.”

“like…?”

“spontaneous functional impairment?”

i’ll show you a spontaneous functional impairment, you grumble under your breath. “i am not your maid.”

reo tilts his head to side, warmth radiating from the innocent smile plastered on his face. it's the same one he usually wears, the kind that makes one weak in the knees—one that you're fortunately immune to. 

(at least you think so, anyway.)

“…if i paid you, would you be more inclined?”

“piss off, mikage.”

reo chuckles, airy and soft, and you find it disturbing how a mere sound can easily disarm your guard. that's just the kind of person he is, you guess, barely even having to try yet the influence he holds over anyone (regrettably including you, to a certain degree) is undeniable. you ponder why someone like him is even here in the first place; doesn't he have more important stuff to do?

“kidding, i'm kidding! it's delicious.”

but when he assures you and you watch as his eyes crinkle with amusement, you decide not to sweat the little details. he continues, “i mean it. i’d love to have more, if you're willing, of course.”

since hakuho high is a college prep school, your school’s soccer team is weak compared to the others, not to mention fairly new, established only recently by reo himself (thus making him captain, as if he couldn't be any more popular). it hasn't garnered much attention from its students—but since this is the first official match against another school, a pretty sizable crowd has filled the bleachers that friday afternoon, excitement and anticipation buzzing in the air.

on the way to the bleachers, you catch sight of your friend and his teammates warming up while the coach gathers them to hold his final group meeting prior to the game, most of them stretching their legs and some basking under the sunshine (and by some, you mean only nagi).

after the coach finishes saying his speech to the team, reo claps his hand against nagi’s back, making the latter wince. reo just hooks his arm around nagi’s shoulder, and you see his mouth moving and gesturing towards the direction of the bleachers when his purple eyes suddenly fall on you. sending reo a small wave, he waves back at you, albeit with more enthusiasm—which also made the girls surrounding you shriek. ah, right. you briefly think that you should start acting like you don’t know him in public, on the off chance that a crazed fan of his comes for your throat just for being involved with him.

nagi glances where reo’s line of sight is. you wave at him as well when your eyes meet, expecting him to just send one back in acknowledgment, but instead he starts jogging towards you. “you made it,” he breathes out once he's within earshot. 

“i said i’d watch your game, right?” you playfully jab him on the arm, observing how his legs look way more toned than you’ve last seen. has he always been this fit? seems like all that training he begrudgingly went through has paid off. “lookin’ fresh in uniform, seishiro. sorry i couldn't make it to any practices though, i couldn't ditch my own club.”

nagi shrugs, feeling content since you still made it. he reaches into his pocket, fishing out his beloved device and handing it to you. “can you keep my phone with you? i forgot i had it in my pocket.”

after nagi gets back to his team, you end up sitting on the third row of the bleachers as you wait for the game to begin. you fiddle with the charm on his phone. he still has it attached (you make a mental note to ask him about it again later), and you notice how some of the colors of the black beads have faded. a cursory thought passes, where you wonder if it's due to age, or if he touched it too often that the oils from his fingertips have worn the surface off.

you're leaning more on the former hypothesis—you can’t imagine nagi getting sentimental over a handmade charm that’s mediocre at best. or anything at all, period.

a sudden bump on your shoulder causes you to break out of your thoughts. a deep voice hurriedly speaks out, “excuse m—”

“len?” out of all people, why is he sitting next to you? 

you’ve barely seen your ex-boyfriend in the past three years. either he's good at hiding, or you're even less popular (or involved with anyone else who isn't nagi) than you think. to be honest, you've forgotten all about him, but you can still recognize his dark eyes and, annoyingly enough, even the scent of his cologne with just one moment of appraisal.

len looks at you, eyes widened and mouth agape, before he gets up and turns around, climbing up the stairs to find a different seat. you click your tongue, slightly ticked off that he ran away from you. again. okay, whatever.

just then, the referee blows the whistle, signaling the start of the game. reo gets the ball first touch, sneaking his way through defenders with his quick thinking and passes. you're impressed by his skill, but since this is the mikage reo we're talking about, you guess you should've expected it. the team moves accordingly, passing the ball back and forth between them, intensity already cranked up to the maximum so soon after it began.

well, mostly everyone is pumped up. nagi’s half-ass running makes you snicker, and you wonder if he's even going to do anything at all this match if his slouched, lethargic posture is anything to go by. but then you catch sight of his face when an opposing player comes up to him, his visage contorting from passive to mildly irritated. it's only a tiny change, hardly even noticeable, but since you've known him for so long you've gained a good understanding of these miniscule differences. you realize his opponent must have taunted him because now he's locked in, straightening up and dashing towards the penalty area.

for a pretty lax person, you wouldn't have guessed he'd be the type to be vindictive when provoked. most of the time, he does it unintentionally, showing off his unparalleled genius with barely any effort. the ball comes flying toward him, and it almost lands a few inches behind him yet he reaches it perfectly, twisting his body to trap the ball and swiftly kicking it to the goal in one fluid motion.

not even a minute in, hakuho scores a goal, and the world abruptly stops for a second.

absolute silence falls on the field, rendering both the opposing team and the crowd too stunned to speak or even move, save for reo who just beams at the prodigious striker.

“LET’S GO, SEISHIRO!” 

the crowd subsequently erupts with deafening applause and cheers the moment they break out of their stupor, jumping out of their seats and yelling out what was that? in wonder and amazement.

nagi looks up as he hears your voice so distinctly clear from the bleachers. sure, he might have been a tad more zealous about that first goal, but it's not like it was a hard one to pull off—though you and everyone else’s reaction says otherwise, so he must've done something cool.

…still, is any of that really necessary? nagi likes that you've made it to his first ever official match, but you look as if you're one step away from joining the cheerleading squad and be his personal cheerleader. he watches as you cup your hands around your mouth, grinning widely at him across the field, and he thinks that you've never changed at all since middle school. you're always too loud, too forward, too bothersome, too annoying—

but that makes you, you. he wouldn't want it any other way.

for the rest of the game, hakuho dominates the match thanks to him and reo. at some point, the white-haired striker vaguely remembers his captain telling him about some sort of a hat trick, and that it was a really difficult move to pull off (not really) so he tries doing that just to show off a little. i mean, it's my debut, and you're watching, he reasons.

it’s over before he knows it, the score being an impressive 7-0. after the referee blows the whistle and the game ends, everyone explodes into cheers once again, nagi’s teammates huddling over, some jumping on his back and some even lifting him up. 

“nagi!” reo cries out. “wow! i've never seen you worked that hard bef— wait, where are you going?”

when nagi glances towards the bleachers again, he sees you pushing past the other students, nearly hopping over them so you can get to the field, fueled by nothing but adrenaline and hype. he shrugs off his teammate's arms around him, making a beeline towards you. he doesn't even realize what he's doing, lured by the excitement and passion emanating from your presence.

“hey, what are you doing all the way h—”

“SEISHIRO, HELLO? that was so incredible, what the hell was that?!” you exclaim, launching yourself at him. luckily, he catches you just in time…unluckily, he underestimates your exhilaration, your tackle causing both you toppling down on the grass with you landing on top of him as he lets out an oof– as his back hits the grass. “you crazy bastard. i always knew you had it in you!”

from the corner of his eye, he sees reo’s head whipped in your direction, watching the two of you intently, but at the moment none of that matters. nagi still isn’t too good at reading people's emotions, but when it's displayed so clearly before him, your earnest gaze and a smile impossibly wide that your face must've hurt to hold that for so long, he realizes you make it easy for him to understand it this time with no room for any alternative perception.

strands of your hair fall against his face as you hover above him, and the afternoon sun is just about to set, creating a warm halo against your form, and nagi thinks you look as radiant as ever.

taglist: @yoimiya-lover @i2innie

SORRY FOR THE LATE UPDATE i got so busy irl 😔 taglist is open! just comment ^_^ (if im unable/forgot to tag you, pls lmk!!)