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pearlymel · 3 months ago

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"The Masks We Wear"

Summary: as a journalist, you are itching to find the identity of this mysterious hero. But could it be that the hero is closer to you than you think?

Wc: 7.3k eat up

Warnings: Wriothesley x afab!reader, gn! reader, modern au, hero and villian au (one of each), reader is a journalist/cameraman, fluff, making out, crack (i laughed a lot writing this), angst (oops), one small sex scene, slightly under the influence, cursing, it's pretty unrealistic, petnames used: sunshine, love, and sweetheart.

Notes: i poured my heart and soul into this, i think it's my best piece so far ^^ give it a chance, maybe you'll love it. (Pleasepleasepleaseplease) Rbs are greatly appreciated!

Credits: banner art by the great @/danijaci

Click!

The city is absolutely beautiful today. No, no. It’s not because of the lights that makes the place brighter and a bit more magical, how it seems livelier with a group of teenagers laughing together while buying street foods together, or the old couple that seem still very much in love, the gentleman kneeling down and tying her shoes just to make sure she wouldn’t trip this time.

Humans can be cute, you think.

But of course, among those innocent ‘humans’ are those who desire destruction.

This time, you think you might have caught something in the shadows, and you stare intently at your camera, zooming it in to see the faintest color blending in with the darkness. Hair? A part of clothes? You don’t know, but you got it.

you have this obsession of finding out who the hero of this city was, or even the villian. Although, you would be technically be walking into death if you try finding out who the villian is.

Where did this hero come from? No one knows. Sure the crime rate has lowered, but it felt like the world became even more messed up.

It all started a couple of years ago when you were in your college days, one day almost dying from a falling building, and you thought you saw the scythe waiting to take your soul at that very moment but, no.

The mysterious hero of the city that you never thought you would never encounter carried the building with his super strength power, apparently.

He who has no name, took your hand and lead you into a safer area with the police.

cliché story, right. But that’s what got you into journalism and media now.

And let’s say… you’re too far into the deep black hole to back down now.

The almost blinding light made you come back to your senses, the sounds of engine roaring in the air as the bike approached you, and your shoulders were already slumped.

“How did you find me?” You raise your voice due to the loud engine running, covering parts of your vision from the light.

“Lucky guess.” Wriothesley replied gruffly, pulling his helmet off and shaking his head slightly to fix up his messy strands.

“Care to explain what on earth are you doing here in this shady alleyway? At nine thirty where the moon is out and wolves could be coming for you?” He starts scolding you, quirking an eyebrow when you give him the bored expression, and he immediately mimics it back.

“Taking pictures.”

“Of the rats?”

“Wriothesley.” You shoot him a look and he raises his hands in the air. “I understand your… obsession. But it could hurt you in the process, mentally and physically.”

You know he’s saying all this because he cares so much about you. Loves you too much that it would break his soul piece by piece if one day what you’re doing will hurt you.

“Hop in, sweetheart.” He hands you the extra helmet, and you take it with a sigh. Securing it around your head before taking your place behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist as he revved the engine.

The whole ride back was silent, yet traffic, which entirely ruined the whole mood. With the constant car horns ringing in your ear.

You tap at his thigh to grab his attention, “Why’s it traffic?” You grumble, rising yourself from the seat to look at the row of cars trying to get through.

“Not any holidays or events i can think of,” he responds back to you.

Red mixed with orange fills your vision, suddenly the car at the very front explodes. The car parts flying in the air and landing at the other vehicles which makes you frozen in shock.

Wriothesley’s clenches his hands tightly as he turns the bike around, speeding his way far away from the scene. “Hold onto me tight, and don’t look back, you hear?” He yells enough to grab your attention, and your arms tightens around him, but you have your head turned around to see the people yelling and dashing out of the vehicles. You want to capture the moment with your phone so you could submit it in for the news, but you know more than to ignore Wriothesley right now.

It’s not rare to see destruction happen in your city, it’s just… terrifying every time anybody witnesses it.

Maybe it wasn’t an accident, maybe it was planned.

“You’re not allowed to go out after seven.” Wriothesley makes it clear to you with his firm tone as you both step inside your shared apartment, locking the apartment with a click. He then tosses his keys into a bowl on a small table, before turning to look at you.

“Are you seriously setting a curfew for me? Please. what happened was not new—”

Your face is now being cradled by his rough hands, but the way he swipes a thumb under your eyebags really makes you melt. And you forget what you were going to say when his lips curl the slightest.

“I don't want anything happening to you. Ever.” He takes you in his arms, holding you like you were the most precious thing he ever held. “I didn't mean to pressure you like that. I'd hate it if you were in the position of those injured people.”

You pat his back to reassure him that hopefully nothing like that will happen. “And, if, hypothetically, something like that happened; What would y—”

“I'll kill everyone.” he doesn't even let you continue before he answers, though the chuckle against your hair followed after makes your tense shoulders relax.

“maybe not to that extent,” he lifts your head up to lean in and press a tender kiss on your forehead.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“what is it?”

“… something or someone.”

Your boss gives you a nonchalant sharp look when you eagerly showed him the bits you managed to capture last night before you were interrupted by your great boyfriend.

His eyes squints at the more of a blurred photo that sits on the display of your camera, taking the glasses that hanged from his collar.

The sigh afterwards makes you feel discouraged when he hands you back your camera.

“i see it.” He starts and you perk up immediately.

“it looks like a blurred image of a fucking bird taking a shit on the electrical cords.” You press your lips into a thin line at his description. Too detailed of a description,

what a bastard.

It.. certainly didn't look like that.

You clear your throat, pinching the bridge of your nose to compose yourself.

“You're lucky i like your determination or you would've been fired,” he utters out in a lax tone, resting his glasses on his big bald head that you want to spill with ketchup.

“Keep looking, i need the hero's face, details, anything. Just think of the money you and i could both earn.” He seems too enthusiastic about it, showing you determination with his fists pressing together and his wide ear to ear smile.

You leave work early that day, starting your daily walk of looking around for at least two hours or—one hour?

No, Wriothesley would be too worried if you came back after… nine. Your words not his.

You need to rearrange a schedule in your head.

Step one: somehow convince your boss that you need to leave early everyday.

Step two: search every nook and cranny of the city, ask every shady person if they get to talk to the hero in person or got a glimpse of his name.

Step three: go to the dark web— is that car flying infront of you right now?!

Shit. Just why does everything have to go down wherever path you go?

The people around you panics, and you equally panic with them because you're no fucking hero to tell them to get away from that flying car.

You take your camera out hurriedly from its case that slung around your shoulder, pressing record while frantically looking around. The ground shakes, it shakes so much that it feels like an earthquake almost.

“it's him! The villian!” Someone shouts from the distance, and just like that the screams that follows are in sync.

You know why the ground shook, the street has become a battlefield for the hero and villain fighting together with all their strengths, the air is filled with tension as they both clash in an epic confrontation. The ground trembles beneath your feet again as they traded blows, sending shockwaves through the battlefield. The once tranquil street has now been transformed into a chaotic arena of power and destruction. As the battle rages on. The hero and villain continue their fight, each strike more powerful than the last, their movements a blur of speed and precision.

You try capturing anything with your camera, but your hand shakes that it was impossible. When the villian lands a powerful punch on the hero’s shoulder, sending him way back, it makes you think it's time to leave.

You run with the rest without stubbornness this time. You should've listened to Wriothesley, why did you always have to be so curious about everything?

This curiousity will kill you next after the cat.

“Taxi!” You shout, waving your hand at the yellow vehicle, but every taxi seems to ignore the people's pleas, determined to save themselves instead.

Guess it's time to burn calories and run back home.

You were a panting mess once you reached back to your comfort space, eyes zeroing at the running television in the living room. Watching the newscaster talk about today's battle and how it affected the shops and buildings.

It seems like the battle lasted twenty minutes before the villian gave up and fled away.

Your head snaps to the bathroom once you hear the sink water drip, you didn't even think if he would be here this early.

“Wriothesley,” you say breathlessly when you swing the door open, arms squeezing his side as you take a deep breath in.

“woah, easy there. What happened?” He takes you in, hand rubbing at your arm.

“i was…” nevermind. Maybe you shouldn't tell him what you have witnessed, he'll know once he checks the news.

You only realise that he was chest bared at the moment, and you furrow your eyebrows once you see a bruise on his shoulder.

“What happened?” It was your turn to ask, talking a gentle finger and running it over the bruise, earning a hiss from him.

“was changing the car oil at the repair shop.” He mumbles, gaze turning to the mirror, “then accidentally hit my shoulder once i got up.” he turns his arm, swinging it slowly.

“but you don't work at a car repair shop?”

“it's a side hustle, sunshine.”

“why didn't you tell me?” You press on, and he hangs his head low, both of his hands gripping the sink bowl.

Okay, maybe you have annoyed him a little too much now. Upon sensing your incoming apology, Wriothesley smiles at you.

“don't worry your pretty little head too much. The bruise will fade.”

“i can massage you later?” You offer, and he lets out a breathy chuckle. “You're the best.” He gives you a chaste kiss on your lips on his way out, which makes you feel a little fuzzy.

The evening gave way to the night sky, and you found yourself lying on the bed, replaying the video captured on your camera. The footage was far from perfect, shaky and lacking in clarity, but it still managed to capture fragments of the intense confrontation between the hero and the villain. You couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement as you watched the brief glimpses of the clash that had taken place earlier.

How the villian managed to blow a punch on the hero’s shoulder, sending him way back. Must've hurted.

It's almost like the same spot Wriothesley got his bruise on.

…

Wait, the same spot? You sit up on the mattress, replaying the video on repeat of their fight.

The hero was about the same height as him, the same physique, same cake—

You shake your head, focus. Wriothesley can't be the hero, no that's impossible. He was a busy man, doing… side jobs and whatnot.

Sure he was kind, always helping everyone, even walking the neighbors dog because they got sick one day.

But then again… you never saw Wriothesley and the hero at the same time,

Or was it merely a coincidence, a random alignment of physical features?

“Sunshine?” You gasp when you snap your head up to find Wriothesley leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed.

“y-yes?” You set the camera aside on top of the drawer. He moves closer, seating himself on the edge of the bed, his eyes fixated on you then glancing at he camera.

“dinner's ready.”

You nod, silence fills the room after. You know he's waiting for you tell him more, on why you were so shocked.

“was looking at the hero's pictures.”

“not mine? I'm wounded.”

You roll your eyes, a slow smile creeping up your face, and he loves it. He takes it as an invitation to lean closer, suddenly pinning you down on the bed to capture your lips with his.

It's slow, and gentle. It makes you hum softly, taking his face in your hands to kiss him back, moving your lips together until you were gasping for air.

You forget you were even suspicious of him a second ago.

Your fingers lightly trace his jawline and you feel the pricks of his growing facial hair. A small smile plays on your lips as you inform him in a soft tone, "You need to shave." Wriothesley chuckles softly, the sound warm and low. He reaches up to your hand, gently taking hold of it and bringing it to his lips, pressing a kiss on your palm. "Is that why you stopped kissing me?" He says, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "No! I find you more.. attractive. Plus it.. yeah, it feels like little needles on my face.” you admit quietly.

Wriothesley presses his face into your neck, his lips tracing soft kisses along your skin. His hands begin roving your body, each touch sending a gentle shiver across your flesh. He whispers quietly next to your ear, his voice low and smooth as he responds, "I'll shave after dinner." The sensations of his lips against your neck and his hands exploring your body mix together, creating a heady combination that heightens your senses and ignites a slow fire within you.

“I'll.. help.” You whisper, bringing both of your arms to wrap them around his back. “What a sweetheart.” he uttered out, voice muffled from trying to mold into your skin.

Your mind stops working for a second when he presses his knee gently between your legs to pull them apart, “Wriothesley, what about dinner?” You frantically ask him, tugging his hair up so both of your gazes could meet. And the almost drunken expression he has on makes you let out a shaky breath.

“later,” he drawls, his fingers tracing lazily along your sides.

Hero?��Pftt, what hero? This is just your wriothesley, it's quite impossible for him to be the hero.

You snap out of your daydream when your colleague hands you a cup of coffee, he raises an eyebrow at you and you smile back awkwardly.

A sip of the coffee to get a bit of energy, but only just a bit, since too much caffeine makes you nervous.

“You filmed the crazy battle yesterday?” Your colleague sneaks from behind you, watching the video replay again on your camera.

“they do movies about them now, insane huh?”

“well atleast the hero knows he's popular.” You reply bluntly, taking anothsr sip from your hot beverage.

“flash news, someone heard that his name starts with the letter ‘W’ or som—”

You spit out your coffee all over your white attire. You both exchange surprised looks, but you quickly wipe your mouth using the back of your hand.

“where exactly did you hear that?” You get straight to the point, gesturing them to sit next to you.

“from my father's friend’s cousin sister.”

His reply makes your eyes twitch, from who and who?

“Okay…” you whisper, turning around and thinking of the utter nonsense they spouted.

“you don't believe me.” he sighed, “I've been telling this to everyone in the building but no one is believing me! Just tryna’ do my job here.”

Let's say maybe you believe him. But the dots are connecting too fast that you want to refuse from believing it.

Was your target closer to you than you had expected?

“I'm clocking out, can you cover for me today?” You inform your colleague, and he crosses his arms while eyeing you up and down.

Your roll your eyes, “I'll be the cameraman for next week. So you could get three days off.” You force a smile and they smile back enthusiastically.

Wriothesley is definitely home. Earlier than the usual time he'd be back.

Oh, he's asleep on the couch. Leaning back tiredly with an almost stern expression on, but his body seems relaxed.

Now is the time to do anything. Investigate? Go through his things without his permission? That sounded all awful… surely he's not hiding any—

“go search his things.” You furrow your eyebrows when the devil on your left shoulder speaks, it makes you rub your face in annoyance.

Then a sudden white little angel poofs on your right shoulder with a disappointed face, “no, don't do it. He's a little scary when he gets mad. But he'd never betray you!” you feel reassured at it's words and you nod in agreement.

“don't listen to it. He could hurt you if you keep it a secret.” The red devil whispers again and it makes you shiver a bit.

“he would never hurt you.” The angel frowns.

“yes he would, he's a man.”

“a good man.”

“yeah? You're no better than me, you just want that—”

“okay shut up both of you. Shoo.” You brush both of your shoulders off before taking a deep breath to brace yourself.

You'll just search his.. clothes.

You feel guilty once you pocket his jackets and pants in his side of the wardrobe, checking every hidden pocket thoroughly while glancing at the door once in a while to make sure he doesn't wake up.

As your fingers brush against his jacket, you notice an unusual sensation – a cool, metal feeling hidden underneath the fabric. Your eyes widen in surprise as you recognize it to be the form of a gun's handle. A mixture of curiosity and concern floods through you, freezing you in place.

It really is a gun. You study it carefully, turning it around and feeling it's heaviness in your palm.

But you feel your heart run out of your ribcage when two pairs of arms wrap tightly around you, his chin resting on your shoulder.

Shit.

“hi,” he whispers next to your ear, but you're too nervous to even look back at him.

“nice thing you got there.” He muses, and you feel like you're losing oxygen once he tightens his grip around you even more.

“… i just found it.” You mutter, mostly to yourself. Your head hanging too low to avoid his eyes.

“Could've just asked me, no?” He clicks his tongue, almost in disappointment.

“i have it on me because—”

“because you use it for the good, right? Because you're the hero?” Your voice is shaky when you ask, the gun in your hand shaking with you, and you're afraid to drop it.

“hero?” Wriothesley repeats, shaking you gently awake and you gasp harshly, taking in big breaths, your boyfriend immediately trying to soothe you.

it was a dream.

“you were mumbling something about a hero in your sleep. Are you okay?” He asks in concern, brushing a strand off your face. You were sweating too much for your liking.

“when did i get here?” You look around, taking your palms to rub the sleepiness off. “Right when you got off work. You slept on the bed without changing your clothes.”

Oh… so you never checked his clothes. Deciding to just sleep instead.

Your head turns back to the wardrobe, staring at it intently. Could the jacket be in the same arrangement as you found it in your dream? Or will the gun also be there?

“you're going to poke a hole through it if you keep staring.” He stifles a laugh, and you couldn't help but try to smile as well. “Drink up. Slow sips.” He offers you a glass of water, and you hold the glass firmly in your hand.

“so… what was your dream about? Even this hero appears in your dreams? Can't say I'm not jealous.”

“You'll have grey hairs too early from overthinking.” You tease, sitting upright in bed, “oh no, you already do, old man.” you frown, tracing the grey strands along with his black hair. He watches in amusement.

Wriothesley lets out a deep sigh, “give your old man a break. They're a badge of wisdom and experience,” he rests his head on your lap, nuzzling close as you massage his scalp.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Breaking news: the ‘’lola” flower shop sets on fire just three hours ago. Our dear hero saves the day yet again, protecting the old lady just in time before her shop explodes. The cause of the fire is still unknown…”

Destruction out of nowhere again. Accidents out of nowhere again.

The voice of the newscaster on the television fades away in this little diner you're in. You drive your attention away from it, instead focusing now on the Polaroid pictures laid out infront of you.

The hero always wore a mask to cover his identity, obviously. But even after watching the countless of interviews he had, the deep tone slightly matches Wriothesley’s voice, or maybe he's changing his tone on purpose. You can see it by zooming in on the video, how he's catching his breath everytime he speaks when he's just sitting down.

Asthma? Nah.

You tap your fingers impatiently on the table, this is not helping at all, and the slightest itch in your brain worsens as the time goes by.

You think about giving up on this, but the possibility of finding the answer on how or why did all of this happen is probably closer to you than you think.

“Bad guys never end with their schemes. Bunch of attention seekers.” The hero speaks on the television, and you hum curiously as the hero salutes the camera playfully before disappearing from the crowd.

Is it possible that there are multiple heros? Working all together in some basement and taking turns to go out and do a better job than the police?

Possibly, and you write down your new theories down on your little notepad.

You check your phone next, Wriothesley still hasn't answered you back from your most recent text to him.

It's nothing to worry about, but the thought that he's busy saving the city is gnawing at you.

Batman?

You shake your head again, gathering your things to stand up from your seat. You should be blunt asking him about it tonight.

It's cold. Colder than usual. Was the air conditioning on? No. But the windows are sure wide open. You look around the living room before closing the windows and curtains from the outside world, as you draw the curtains, the outside world becomes obscured, leaving the room in a soft semi-darkness.

“Wriothesley, honey?” You call out softly, peeking through the bathroom, not there. The bedroom? Nope.

That leaves the kitchen, you slowly peek your head in he kitchen, and sure enough, he was there.

Wriothesley was rubbing his face in exhaustion while mumbling words under his breath that you can't quite hear. Having one singular glass of some drink in his hand.

“hero this.. hero that..” you finally listen to his mumbles, which makes you furrow your eyebrows together.

"Wrio...?" You call out softly, flipping the switch to turn on the light. His sharp eyes immediately dart up to look at you, and you can't help but shiver under his intense stare. You let out a small gasp of surprise as he suddenly stands up, the glass in his hand slipping from his grip and shattering on the ground along with its contents.

Taken aback by his sudden movement, you instinctively take a step back as he approaches you. But before you can even register what's happening, he crashes his lips against yours in a hasty, rushed kiss. Caught off guard, you cling tightly to him, desperately seeking support to prevent yourself from toppling over.

“You love me,” Wriothesley's voice breaks through the heated kiss, his words coming out in a low, guttural groan. He grips the back of your thighs, hoisting you up against the wall and wrapping your legs around his waist. “right?” His voice holds a hint of vulnerability and desperation, as if seeking reassurance and affirmation of your feelings for him.

And when you don't answer him right away, he takes your lower lip between his teeth, nipping at it gently, “answer me.” He almost growls.

“love, what are you taking about? Are you drunk?” You ask breathlessly in concern, your lips feeling swollen.

His jaw clenches, “Why can't you say it?” he inhales your perfume, your scent filling him that it makes him groan, his mouth lavishing your neck and collarbone, leaving kisses and littering marks then soothing the area with his tongue that it makes your pant softly, pressing your face into his hair while your fingers weaving through his black-greyish strands.

“i love you,” you utter quietly, and it suddenly makes him start grinding his hardened length against you. “I'm sorry in advance, sweetheart.”

One minute you're confused about his words, and then the next he's pounding so hard into you like there was no tomorrow.

Strings of “don't leave me,” and “i love you’s,” are echoed in the air. Wriothesley's mouth moves against yours with a sense of urgency and haste, his tongue gliding and tangling with yours in a fervent dance. The bed creaks so loud underneath you that you think it might break anytime, the embarrassment of the headboard banging against the wall immediately gone once he hits your sweet spot rapidly.

Poor neighbors

"Wrio... Wriothesley?” you slowly flutter your eyes open, still in the hazy realm between sleep and wakefulness. The sunlight streams through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room, and you blink a few times as you take in your surroundings. A quiet sense of contentment washes over you as you remember the events of the night before, the memories of Wriothesley's body against yours and his lips on yours still fresh in your mind.

You prop yourself up using your elbows, only to look down at the sight of your sleeping lover with his head pressed up on your chest. You collapse back on the bed with a tired sigh.

You still couldn't understand the reasoning behind his.. desperate actions last night. He seemed so pent up and stressed, you'll forgive him this time.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• It's the day where you're covering for your colleague, being the cameraman for tonight's news. Yes, tonight.

Wriothesley would kill you if he knew you were working so late at night, but only because he cares about your safety. Good thing he's out of the city for a day.

Or he claims to be out of the city for some important work.

You press the button on your video camera, adjusting the lens to focus on the newscaster standing in front of the camera, holding the microphone with a serious expression. The news van is parked in front of a desolate, run-down neighborhood known for its high crime rate and dangerous reputation. The newscaster speaks into the camera, her eyes boring into the lens as she reports on the neighborhood.

“We are now standing in the heart of one of the most dangerous areas in the city. This neighborhood is notorious for its high crime rate and volatile atmosphere.”

Your senses are heightened at this rate and you really try to focus but the moment you hear the faint crunch of leaves, you lose composure just a bit.

Okay you're a bit scared, but as long as your workmates are he—

a group of armed gang members suddenly appear from the alleyways between the buildings, surrounding the news van and the camera crew. The newscaster, taken off guard, gasps and steps back.

The gang members brandish their weapons, circling the news crew menacingly. One of them shouts at the newscaster, waving his gun in the air. “Hold it right there, pretty lady. This is our turf! You ain’t gonna be broadcasting nothing about us!”

You're about to shit your pants for real this time.

“Drop your cameras and get outta here, or things are gonna get real ugly real fast,” he growls, and one of them points the gun right on your camera.

“I'm talkin’ to you too.”

Yeah, you're not going to fight anyone and act all big. You simply drop the camera on the ground to raise your hands in the air.

As the gang members close in on the news crew, the atmosphere is suddenly shattered by the sound of footsteps pounding against the pavement. Everyone turns to see a tall, muscular figure approaching from the distance.

It's the hero.

You watch in awe as the hero strides towards the group of armed gang members, his movements fluid and precise. With a swift swing of his fist, he lands a powerful punch on the leader's face, sending him stumbling backwards. The other gang members are taken aback by his sudden appearance and the display of force, their eyes widening in surprise and fear. They exchange nervous looks, realizing they're facing a much stronger opponent than they anticipated.

“Hey, let's go!” Your workmate calls for your name. Her hand waving at you so you could all retreat back to the van.

And before you could follow, the van explodes.

The sudden explosion catches you off guard, jolting you out of your stupor. Shouting in surprise, you recoil from the loud blast, ducking instinctively as debris and fragments fly through the air. Your colleague, sitting next to you in the van, lets out a terrified yell as the force of the explosion propels the driver backward. The van shudders and lurches from the impact, the windows shattering and various objects sent flying.

“in the building! Let's go!” All three of you dash to protect yourselves inside this tall company building.

“I will call the police,”

“but the hero is here!” the driver of the van speaks, almost yelling in frustration.

“the hero is also a human. Just a strong one. We can't rely on him—” but before you could continue, you all cover your ears once you hear gunshots come from outside.

Ohmygosh. It’s—it could possibly be Wriothesley who's getting hurt right now. What are even the chances?!

“Fine! Just call the fucking police!” The driver gives up, leaning back against the wall while breathing heavily.

You want to go out there. You want to see. It's your chance to see who the hero is if he got hurt. Just to get the crumbs of news in exchange for your life apparently.

When it grows quiet, you peek outside, “it's clear, I'll take a look—”

“No, you're not.” her hand is firm as she grips your wrist, “just let them go.” He, on the other hand, scowls.

“Be safe!” She shouts at you as you make a run for it, running down the alleyway while looking left and right.

Someone's in the area.

You dart behind the nearby dumpster, heart pounding in your chest as adrenaline courses through your veins. Hiding as best you can, you press yourself against the rough metal, trying to keep your breathing steady and quiet. Peeking out from behind the dumpster, you cautiously scan the surroundings, trying to catch a glimpse of someone nearby. For now, the area seems to be clear, but you can't shake the feeling that someone is in the vicinity, lurking in the shadows.

“Where ya at, lil’ birdie?” You cover your mouth when you hear someone speak, it sends a chill down your spine and you can feel your heart drumming in your ears.

Your sharp eyes turn to your side to find a metal rod, you don't hesitate to grab it before smacking the shit out of the guy.

No that did not happen, but you wish it did.

Instead, the minute you see his feet pass the dumpster, with a swift movement, you grab hold of both of his ankles, using your weight and leverage to pull them out from under him. He lets out a pained shriek as he suddenly loses his balance and topples to the ground, his body hitting the pavement with a thud.

Alright, you can be cool sometimes.

Stepping at his hands to hear him cry again, you run put of the place, making turns and finally spotting the hero sitting down against the building wall while panting, seemingly exhausted.

“…” you take slow steps once you approach him, looking down at him with your eyes already glistening.

This is it, you just have to confirm it.

Your hand pulls at his mask, “Wrio—”

Huh?

This…

Is not

Wriothesley.

“Ah, what the fuck?” He grunts, the blonde grabbing the mask from your hands and you take a step back.

“Elias?!” You yell out in confusion, it's your colleague that you're covering for supposedly today's shoot.

“You're the hero??”

“not a word. Scram, you freak.” he mutters, eyes diverting away from you and staring up at the roof. “The roof,” he whispers to himself, making the effort to stand back at his knees.

Is this bitch serious? He's the last person you expected to be the hero. With his stupidly arrogant and lax attitude.

You give him an almost death stare, studying his features again before making your way out.

You need to check the other people that were with you.

But when you arrive back at the building, they were gone.

Did the police arrive? You don't hear any sirens. Could they have possibly went up on one of the floors to hide?

You find yourself in the elevator next, watching as the doors close with your hands clasped infront of you nervously.

You take deep breaths, trying to calm your racing heart and steady your nerves. Hey, at least there's nice elevator music.

As the elevator comes to a halt, the doors slide open with a soft ding, revealing the rooftop and the figure standing in the open space.

There's a figure standing at the edge of the building, you can see the person's silhouette clearly now, but you can't make out their features just yet.

Your steps are hesitant as you slowly approach the figure, the wind gently billowing around you. The city lights twinkle below, but your attention is entirely focused on the person standing at the edge of the roof. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for whatever may come, and call out tentatively, "Hello?”

Your voice rings in the air, that the person's shoulders tense.

When they look around, you're met by the same blue eyes you've known for three years now.

“Wriothesley.” You whisper, in shock, breathlessly under your breath.

He's holding.. a gun? The same gun you remember seeing in your dream.

Something in his mind snaps when you turn around, in fear. Like it was a mistake to ever see him in the first place.

Wriothesley doesn’t even give himself time to think before his body suddenly reacts, suddenly reaching out and circling his hand around your wrist to forcibly tug you back.

He yanks hard enough that you lose your balance and fall against him, his other arm coming up to wrap around your shoulders, preventing you from going anywhere.

“W-wrio—”

“think it's time we talk, sunshine.” He speak into your ear.

When you try to move the slightest from his hold, he grips you around him tighter. You figure it's best to stay still for now.

“what? Are you going to kidnap me now?” You manage to chuckle out, nervously though, your voice coming out more shaky than you intended to.

“Is that going to satisfy your little fantasy? What, I should play into it and shove you into a corner, keep you under my thumb until you’re begging me to set you free? Or no… you want to be saved by the hero.”

"You know you're not helping with your case, right? You really sound like the bad guy now.”

You’ve definitely found his breaking point because that comment makes him snap.

Wriothesley suddenly whirls you around so you’re facing him before he’s pinning you against the nearest wall, his body practically covering your own.

“Well…” He whisper, raising an eyebrow calmly in the way you look being at his mercy. “Aren’t I?”

Your jaw practically hangs at his words. Is he... Playing the bad guy now?

Or was he really… not the opposite of the hero?

He sees the shiver you try so hard to suppress and smirks at that, clearly satisfied with your reaction, “What’s wrong, sunshine? Finally realize that the man you’ve been dating isn’t the hero you've obsessing over?” He chuckles.

“i… i knew it—”

“You didn’t,” he says, his tone suddenly becoming cool and firm.

Wriothesley leans forward, pressing into you so that you’re smashed between him and the wall. His hand suddenly comes up, cupping your jaw so that he tilts your chin up to look directly into his eyes.

“If you’d known, you’d never have come within twenty feet of me. You’d never have been alone with me or spent a single night in our bed.”

He's right. And you hate it. You feel betrayed, lied to, even.

It makes you rethink your life choices.

You've gotten too comfortable with him that you didn't even think about him being the villian. You've gotten too close while you were being a complete idiot.

“you hid it.”

Wriothesley laughs, the sound almost sounding cold, “of course I hid it, sunshine. I wasn’t going to just come strutting in wearing a big, red sign saying ‘look at me, I’m a bad guy!’ was I?”

You clench your fists together, “you tricked me.”

“Tricked? No.” He shakes his head slightly. “I simply… left out key details.”

“Why?”

“ah, there it is.” He steps back, giving you space to breath, to recollect your thoughts.

“why? Because the hero isn't a hero. He started all of this destruction. Why? To get fame, recognition, power, and to be seen, to look like he's doing something when he's not.” He lets out all in one breath, and you lips part again.

“four years ago when the building almost fell on you? He did that, on purpose. then saved you to make it look like he's the one that everyone needs.”

What the hell?

“Wriothesley, we were strangers to each other four years ago. How did you know?” You don't hesitate to step closer to get more answers out of him, but he only stares at you.

You swallow thickly when he draws infront of you once again, “i did this all for you, love. I-i will do everything in my power to stop him, i will kill him so you wouldn't get hurt—”

“Okay, fucker. Out of my way,” Elias, the ’hero’, suddenly barks, and without warning, a gunshot rings out. The bullet pierces through Wriothesley's shoulder, causing him to flinch and stagger backwards.

Your eyes widen in horror as you watch the scene unfold. "Wriothesley!" you cry out, watching as he turns around despite the injury and charges towards Elias.

Despite the pain he must be in, Wriothesley doesn't relent. Ignoring the gunshot wound, he barrels towards Elias with unmatched determination, closing the distance between them.

"Bastard," Wriothesley manages to grit out as he collides with Elias, knocking him off his feet and sending them both crashing to the ground.

You don't hesitate to rush forward, with adrenaline fueling your actions, you move quickly towards them as they roll dangerously close to the edge of the roof.

"Stop!" you shout, your voice filled with desperation. "You'll fall!”

And surely enough, Your two hand clamps down on Wriothesley's, desperately grasping onto anything you can to prevent him from plunging off the edge.

Meanwhile, Elias grips Wriothesley's leg, using his strength to anchor him in place. The three of you hang there, suspended over the city, Wriothesley's body along with Elias’s dangling in the air.

“Sweetheart—”

“shut the fuck up I'm not letting go.” They're both too heavy, the feel of his fingers slipping away from yours increases everytime you try to pull them up.

Elias is purposely pulling Wriothesley's leg down to drop them both, your lips quiver, crying when two of his fingers slip now.

“hey,” his voice is soothing when he calls for you.

“at least… i protected you till the very end, right?” He tries smiling but it only makes the lump in your throat grow.

“i love you.”

“Wriothesley!”

…

“Wriothesley—!” You gasp harshly when you open your eyes so wide, finding that your hand was already reaching out for nothing.

You rest your hand on your chest before leaning back on your seat.

“are you okay?” The newscaster, the friend you made, offers you her handkerchief so you could swipe the sweat off your face.

“i think… continuesly searching about this, is making you stressed.” She points out, looking at the papers and drawings splayed out on your desk.

More theories of the disappearances of the hero and villian. Not their death. Their bodies were never found.

“it's been a year.”

The realization is like a punch to the gut as you bring a sweaty palm to rub at your temples.

“This is not over.” You whisper, more to yourself than to her. “We got no more trouble. No more heroic or bad guy news. The world is back to normal, almost like they never existed huh?”

Never existed.

She then suddenly gasps, which catches you off gaurd, “are engaged??” She eyes at the gem resting on your left ring finger.

The ring you found in one of his jacket pockets when you sorted his things out.

“yeah…” you decide to drawl out before sitting upright on your seat.

“now, if you'll excuse me, i got work to do.”

You're never going to stop searching, to find another answer of the question; 'why?'

Even if it will mean risking your life this time.

#Wriothesley #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin fluff #genshin angst #wriothesley smut #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x you #wriothesley fluff #wriothesley angst #genshin impact x you #genshin x reader #fanfic #wriothesley #genshin wriothesley #wriothesley genshin

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cusimmrbrightside · 3 months ago

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I have always liked the idea of the school for mutants being very literally a school, and I know yes it is but I mean in the sense of if you want to be an X-men, you have to be a teacher. They have exams at the end of years, they have Ofsted checks (for those who don’t know what they are, it’s essentially people coming to check that the school is good at being a school) and they have teachers for every subject, which brings me to my next point;

“I’m Right You’re Wrong, Here’s What The X-Men (‘97 specifically) Would Teach As Subjects”.

(Also this is based off of UK school system but I use American terms like “seniors” and “AP” and “Midterms”)

Maths Teacher Gambit is surprising, for a guy most assume to not being entirely smart, an idiot goof off who’s the comedic relief. But you need to know numbers to gamble, and that he does with being very well versed in mathematics way past an AP level. He’s made the promise for every senior class that he will teach them to play blackjack on the final day, and has only ever lost once. Which is when the rule of “no betting real money” came into place.

English teacher Jean reminds me of the kind of teacher who would let the social outcasts into her class for their lunch breaks. The kids more likely to be bullied and she will fight tooth and nail to make sure those kids bullies don’t come into that classroom. they’re loud and shout and shouldn’t really be in there but no one has to know and she certainly won’t be telling them to leave any time soon.

Physics teacher Magneto is very specific to my highschool experience I’ll be honest. I had a physics teacher who was an actual Dr with a PHD and he hated being there. His classroom has (well, had since the building was knocked down about 5 years ago now) this one cabinet that was never fully shut, it was always open just about an inch or two, and he’d stand with his foot hovering just above it and then slam down on it whenever we got too loud so the noise would shut us up. That’s very magneto coded. Erik Lehnsherr would purposefully make the cabinet always a little open so he can do that.

Biology teacher morph is just a funny concept, a person whose physical form and change and morph into just about anything. They are considered one of the “fun” teachers, you could easily convince them to let you watch a movie all class as long as it was biology centred, but with classics like Osmosis Jones, you’re not stuck watching a documentary about animals giving birth.

Chemistry teacher Storm does not fuck about with children’s education. She is not strict by any means whatsoever, she just will not bend to someone saying they want to watch a film or should do a practical instead of theory. She has a set curriculum. She knows what she will be doing by the first week of the summer holidays and already has the room set up all pretty and organised.

Geography teacher Scott has the unfortunate job of telling his students that, they just won’t be looking at memorising country flags and politics. But hey!! Rocks are cool!! Beach shores are cool! Lake formations are cool! He’s the vice principal and designated nerd teacher. He once beat the elite four for a student on their copy of Pokémon Red because the student promised they’d do well in their midterms. Yes, he was in his 30s when the game came out, he doesn’t care.

History teacher Logan is a walking fun facts book. He’s exhausted, goes on smoke breaks on every gap of time he has, dislikes his job and will randomly get passionate about one specific topic, and will then dedicate his next 4 classes to that topic. Having been through a lot of modern history with personal experiences, he’s able to bring a lot of souvenirs to show his classes. Bullets, helmets, clothes he once wore hundreds of years ago, his personal memories of basic inventions like the vaccine.

PE (physical education) teacher Rogue is full of fun sports games, you can join any kind of sports team you can imagine and if you ask nicely enough, she’ll put Just Dance on a projector in the sports hall so you can just play that instead of actually play an actual sport. As long as you leave her class exhausted and without time to have a shower before your next class then she’s succeeded in making whoever your next teacher is absolutely miserable (bonus points if it’s Logan with his enhanced sense of smell).

Art teacher jubilee does believe that there is a right way to critique art. And she can be a little in your face about it. She does think you can have wrong opinions especially when it comes to your own art. If she overhears you saying you didn’t something wrong, she’ll scream into a megaphone “adapt, improvise, overcome!”. There are no mistakes! She’s eccentric, bubbly, creative and brilliant, the only one suited for the job.

It wouldn’t be a school without budget cuts. That’s why Nightcrawler is both the languages and religions teacher and he’s beloved at both. He comes up with roleplay scenarios the students can play to help learn their chosen languages, he has varied religious texts in his room and when he says to the students “I’ll pray for toy during exam season” he’s not actually joking.

(I forgot about Hank I’m actually going to cry he’s one of my favourites and I forgot about him. He’ll be in pt two or smth.)

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pinkroseblooms · 3 months ago

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obsessedloner!Choso/chubby!f!Reader pt.2

Summary: in the second part to this modern college au, obsessive loner!Choso goes too far; reader deals with the consequences of his need to keep you close to him and him alone when he feels like you're at risk of gaining the attentions of an even more popular classmate. Yet another self indulgent piece of work, but sue me, I couldn't stop writing this all day. Enjoy!

Warnings: toxic behavior, obsessive/possessive behavior, jealousy, emotional manipulation, smut, mating press, rough sex, hurt/comfort, talks of low self esteem, clingy, needy!Choso, begging, crying, break downs, and borderline yandere!Choso, and other less than healthy relationship dynamics.

wc: 5.3k

The birthday cake was placed on the teacher’s desk: the majority of your speech class had decided that since Satoru Gojo’s birthday was coinciding with the last week of exams before break, it would be fun to have a small party. You volunteered to bake the cake; the professor gave permission to use his classroom that afternoon, with the condition the space was tidied up afterward and things didn’t get too rowdy. It was going to be a nice opportunity to celebrate the coming holiday season and the student who was arguably the school’s golden boy. Even those who didn’t like Gojo’s flippant arrogance and teasing nature admired his work ethic and almost supernatural intelligence, to say nothing of his undeniably pretty face.

Choso was only there because he knew you were attending and in charge of bringing the requested birthday cake. He didn’t feel one way or the other about Gojo, but he would gladly be by your side, eager to hear the compliments your baking would receive and also to make sure no picky eaters decided to get nit picky and spoil your mood. Truly, Choso had been happy on your behalf to hear you had agreed to help with the party. He certainly wouldn’t think to go out of his way to do something like this for people he didn’t really know outside of a forty five minute, twice a week class. Choso was more than proud to be the boyfriend of a person so thoughtful and generous to a fault; it was one of the reasons he fell so hard in the first place. You never needed a special reason to be kind to someone. And of course, it helped that you were still the most adorable thing he had ever seen in his life and the last few months had been nothing short of heaven.

Except, the cake was red velvet. Choso stands by the teacher’s desk, staring at the cake. It was his favorite flavor. He told you that not long ago and you had promised the first time you made it, it would be for him.

The cake is beautifully, painstakingly decorated, a perfect ratio of cake and fluffy frosting, sprinkled in bits of dark chocolate; the matching icing spells out ‘Happy Birthday, Satoru!’ in delicate, looping letters across the top. You obviously put a lot of care into making this for Gojo. That afternoon you had been the first person to arrive, followed shortly by another student, Suguru Geto; he wasn’t in the same speech class, but he was Gojo’s best friend and knew some of the class already, so inviting him was a given. The two of you had left to find a lighter and candles, hoping the school store in the basement of the building would provide something suitable. You told Choso he didn’t need to come; you noticed he had seemed a bit drained from studying and his recently acquired part time job, so you insisted he just hang back and relax while you and Geto went to obtain the finishing touches for the cake.

For the past two minutes Choso has stood in place where you left him, eyeing the cake so innocently sitting atop the cleared off desk. He didn’t know it would be red velvet. Gojo had a sweet tooth and would probably love it.

Surely this is too much for just an acquaintance. The recipe is a lot more difficult than the stuff you’ve made before, Choso saw there were more steps and more factors that could go wrong and ruin the cake’s moist and spongy texture. Skeptically, Choso narrows his eyes at the round, two tiered dessert. Most of the girls in your shared class offered to bake, but you were the one with the most experience and Gojo had eagerly picked you for the task. You must have felt obligated to make the cake perfect.

Choso’s frown deepens; he is your boyfriend. You promised you would make a cake like this just for him. A gesture like this could easily be taken the wrong way too and you’re so sweet and self effacing, he’s sure the idea of Gojo choosing you to personally make his cake didn’t mean anything at all.

It should be for him.

“What…what happened?”

The smile fell from your lips mere seconds after returning from the school store; Geto, insisting on carrying the purchases, had just been relaying a funny anecdote of one of his and Gojo’s misadventures as the two of you walked back into the now empty classroom. On the ground, right next to the base of the professor's sturdy wooden desk is nothing short of a mess.

“My cake,” your hands come up to cover your gaping mouth. “What happened?!”

Geto approaches the desk with a confused frown; the cake and the plate it had been placed on are both on the floor. It seemed to have fallen top first, the icing and frosting smeared over the tiles and the plate broken into pieces around it.

“It fell.” Geto states simply, although not without some incredulity. “Was it close to the edge?”

“No, I, well,” you struggle to recall exactly where you had placed the cake before you left the room. “I didn’t think I put it that close to the edge.”

“There’s frosting streaks on the side too’ it must have just toppled over.” Geto points out with a keen eye, kneeling a bit, bags still in hand. “It might have just been a bit uneven, a little heavier to one side?” he stands to his full height and smiles at you sympathetically. “These things happen, just a little bad luck. I’m sorry, it was a beautiful cake.”

“But everyone’s going to be here soon,” you fret as you search through your bag. “Geto, I’m going to go buy another cake, there’s a store nearby, I’m sure they’ll have something. Oh and I’ll find a custodian, oh no, I’m so sorry, I can’t believe this is happening-”

“Let me go.” Geto places a hand over your tensed shoulder. “It makes more sense, I know what kind of cake Satoru prefers the most. There’s plenty of time and a few others promised to bring drinks and snacks.”

“But I said I’d bring the cake. At least let me give you the money for it?” you hold up a few bills with a pleading stare. “I feel horrible, I should have been more careful where I put it.”

“Don’t beat yourself up; you are the one who did the work to make it.” Geto chuckles but accepts the money if only to make you feel a bit more at ease. “Maybe it’s better this way: with how good that cake looked, I’d wager you might have ended up with that glutton badgering you for more sweets.”

You return his smile as well as you can. “Thank you. I’m just being silly.”

“You’re fine.” Geto says firmly, but not unkindly. “You call a janitor, don’t try to clean up this alone; we wouldn’t want you to get a cut from trying to pick up pieces of that plate. I’ll be back before you know it; Satoru would sulk all afternoon if I don’t get him something anyway.”

“You’re a good friend.” you smile at Geto gratefully. “Thank you, I’ll call someone right away.”

You do just that shortly after Geto takes his leave; most of the custodians have already left for the day, except for one woman. She promises to be there as soon as she’s done with a request from one of the professors in the neighboring building; she sounds pleasant enough, but you feel pangs of guilt as you hang up and take a seat closest to the teacher’s desk.

“Bunny? Are you okay?”

“Choso, you’re back!” you look up and wave at him, trying to sound cheerful; he glances at the ruined cake and back to your pained smile. “Ah, were you looking for me? I guess we just missed each other, the basement elevator was out of order, so we took the stairs. What a mess, huh? Geto thinks one side was a little heavier and it made the cake just flop right over the edge. Some bad luck, right? He left to get a cake and the custodian will be here soon, so make sure not to step on the plate bits.”

“Hey, slow down. I’m not worried about that.” Choso’s brow furrows as he studies your shaky smile. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. No big deal, accident…accidents happen.”

You bite your bottom lip harshly as your eyes begin to sting; before you know it, tears are slowly slipping down your cheeks. You quickly avert your eyes, too embarrassed to see the pitying look cross Choso’s face.

“Oh Choso, I feel so stupid. I can’t believe I put the cake that close to the edge! Ugh, I should have paid more attention, I told everyone I would make this amazing cake and I messed it all up and now Geto has to go all the way to the stupid store to get another one because I wasn’t careful!”

“Did he get mad at you?” Choso asked sharply. “Did he blame you?”

“No, no, Geto didn’t do anything.” you bow your head and wipe at your wet cheeks. “He was really nice about it, so was the janitor on the phone about the mess, but I still feel bad. Gojo was just telling me he was really looking forward to the cake too. I’m sure he’ll be disappointed to get a store bought cake and I promised I’d take care of this for the party. Sorry, I know I’m being a crybaby, I should just suck it up, I’m the one who ruined things, I shouldn’t be feeling sorry for myself.”

“No, you didn’t. It’s not your fault.”

You raise your head and Choso is standing in front of the table between him and you; his hands are gripping tightly around the strap of his duffel bag. You wipe the last of your tears and look at him, your chest swelling at how upset he is on your account.

“You’re so sweet. Just having you to vent to makes me feel better already; I’m really just being dramatic, I’ve been stressed out and-”

“It’s not your fault.” Choso cuts you off quietly; he still isn’t looking at you. “It’s mine.”

“What? Baby, no, I didn’t expect you to watch the cake; it’s on me for not making sure it wasn’t so close to the edge, you didn’t do anything.”

“I pushed it.”

Choso’s knuckles are white: he’s strangling the strap of his bag between quivering hands. Finally, he looks into your bewildered eyes

“Choso, is this some kind of joke?”

“I didn’t want him to have it and, and I thought he might get ideas since you worked so hard to bake it. He flirts with all the girls and you did say you were going to make it for me first.”

“You’ve got to be joking.” you shake your head and all but leap up from your chair. “You? How could you? And you were going to let me think it was my fault?!”

“No! It was supposed to look like an accident, I didn’t think you’d be so upset,”

“So it was okay for me to be ‘kind of’ upset? Choso, how could you?” you ask him again, voice raising, almost echoing in the empty room. “It’s just a cake!”

“Yeah, it’s just a stupid cake, that’s why I didn’t think you’d get this upset!”

Choso’s mouth clamps shut as your anger gives way to a look of utter hurt.

“Wow.”

“I shouldn’t have said that-”

“Thanks a lot, Choso. Yeah, that really makes it better. Was that your plan? Swoop in and play the comforting boyfriend while I feel like a big idiot? Or maybe you just don’t consider my hobbies anything special; anyone can make a cake, right?” Fresh tears well up in your eyes as you tug your bag over your shoulder. “Nice to know what you really think.”

“Hey, wait a minute,” Choso says reproachfully. “I didn’t mean it the way it sounded, you’re putting words in my mouth!”

“You know what?” you shake your head and unzip the front section of your bag; clumsily you yank out a sealed box and slam it down on the table. Choso recognizes it as one of the little boxes you use to pack individual desserts. “Here, your stupid cake. Surprise.”

The lid of the container is now sticking to the top of the cake but Choso can still make out the messy letters of his name and the heart shaped sprinkles scattered all over the surface. His eyebrows raise as he sees the small, squashed up cake is in the shape of a heart. You glare down at it before turning on your heel without so much as a backward glance.

“Bunny?” Choso snaps out of his trance and begins to follow you. “Where are you going?”

“Away from you.”

“I can explain, just calm down and let me-”

“Leave. Me. Alone!” you stop abruptly in the doorway and give him a nasty look, but you’re barely able to hold yourself back as Choso fixes you with a heartbroken stare. “Don’t you dare tell me to calm down when you’re the one who threw a fucking tantrum. Enjoy the ‘stupid cake’, jerk!”

You slam the door in his face and rush down the hall to the nearest entrance, not particularly caring about where you’re going, just as long as you can get as much distance between you and Choso as possible. When you finally get home, you text Geto an apology for taking off and a nondescript explanation for your absence before turning your phone off. You’re exhausted and skip dinner to just curl up in your bed, burrowing in a blanket as if you could shut out the world. Choso’s t-shirt, the same one you’ve been sleeping in nearly every night, is balled up and thrown somewhere across the room; eventually you fall asleep, eyes rubbed raw and nose stuffed as you drift off, hoping maybe this was all just a bad dream.

When morning arrives and you manage to force yourself into a sitting position, it takes you a minute or two to realize the gentle knocking isn’t a leftover remnant from your deep slumber, but a very real sound coming from your front door. You wrap yourself in a robe and slip on a pair of house slippers, equally confused and irritated as to who could be knocking on your door when the sun is barely over the horizon. Just as the knocking stops, you peek through the peephole; there’s no one there. You rub your eyes and unlock your door with a sigh, expecting a leaflet from some early bird salesman or religious group to be stuck in the hinges. Instead you nearly trip over a huddled up mass taking refuge on your doorstep when you didn’t immediately open your door.

“Choso?! Oh my god, you scared me!” you’re still breathing a bit heavily, heart racing thinking a stranger had collapsed on your porch. “What are you doing here?”

“I,” Choso scrambles to his feet; you finally notice in his hands are two cups of coffee, one of which is your usual order, but the largest size. He holds it out to you. “Good morning. You weren’t answering your phone.”

“I turned it off.”

After a beat, you take the cup on autopilot, more preoccupied with the man standing at the threshold of your home. The circles under Choso’s eyes are darker than ever, in addition to how red and irritated they are around the edges, his hair is oily and limp. On closer inspection, you see he’s wearing the same clothes as yesterday; now they’re more wrinkled and the slight odor coming off them tells you he hasn’t showered yet.

“Can I come in?” Choso asks, his voice weak and barely louder than a whisper. “I have to talk to you.”

“Fine.” you frown but move aside and open the door wider. “Here, come with me, I left my phone in my room.”

Choso does as he’s told, but trails after you at a slight distance, at least in comparison to how closely he usually stays to you. He’s shivering; it’s the middle of winter and he isn’t wearing even a jacket. How long had he been knocking on your door? How long had he planned to wait there outside? You banish the thought and busy yourself disconnecting your phone from its charger on your bedside table. Choso stands awkwardly in the middle of your room; he hasn’t taken so much as a sip of his coffee or taken his eyes off you, at least as far as you can see.

“Did I wake you up?” he asks worriedly. “I’m sorry. I was going to wait but I thought you might have gone somewhere and you weren’t answering your phone, so…” he goes silent seeing his shirt in a crumpled heap in the corner of your room. “I just wanted to talk to you as soon as possible.”

You barely heard him, jaw dropping at your phone’s screen as it fully turns on to show you 32 missed calls, 15 unheard voicemails, 18 unopened texts, and 5 emails, all from Choso over the course of the night. You tap your thumb on the latest voicemail.

“Bunny? Bunny, can’t you just talk to me?” A shaky, nearly unrecognizable croaking comes from the speaker: Choso’s strong voice sounds strained, almost inaudible at certain points, as though he had been screaming until his throat was raw. “I know you’re probably sleeping…or maybe you don’t want to talk to me ever again-” A sharp, wrecked sob crackles over the speaker but Choso manages to steady himself again. “But I need to…I need to hear your voice. I’m so sorry, I’m so, so fucking sorry, I’m sorry, please don’t hate me. I love you so much it hurts. I’m going to stop by tomorrow, I need to see you. I know I messed up, I need help. My bunny? I can’t…oh god, I can’t do this. I-I feel like I’m dying, I’m…I love you. I love you, I love you, just please-”

Your heart drops to your churning stomach as Choso’s words morph into broken, unintelligible sobs. Finally after a few seconds, the other end goes quiet and the voicemail ends. A recorded voice tells you there’s still 14 more previously skipped voicemails; Choso has remained standing, stiff as a board and looking miserably at you. You take a seat on the side of your bed, staring bewildered at your phone; you decide to not listen to the other voicemails.

“I’m sorry.” Choso says in an absurdly small voice. “Can we talk?”

You’re holding the coffee in your hands on your lap and taking a deep breath before raising your face. “Choso, why did you do it?”

“I didn’t do it to hurt you. I don’t think your baking is stupid. I was being stupid.” Choso’s cheeks burn in shame. “I was jealous Gojo was getting the cake first, or I thought he was, and I just…I didn’t want him to have it. It’s always like this.”

“What do you mean?” you ask him slowly, tempering your own indignation. “Do you think he would flirt with me? Or that I would cheat on you?”

“No. I just get so...everyone likes you. So, what if someone better comes along? What if you stop paying attention to me?” Choso shakes his head quickly, gripping his hair like he wants to yank it out. “I have thoughts like that all the time. It's awful. I knew you would be sad, but I really thought it would only be a little and then I could make it better and you would…rely on me more. I don’t want you to get close to anyone else.” he lowers his arm to his side limply. “I know it’s wrong. Are you gonna bre-break up with me?”

You don’t speak just yet; your eyes study his drawn, exhausted face. Choso isn’t trying to make you feel bad for him, you know that much. The truth doesn’t make you feel much better though.

“I was really mad at you yesterday. I needed space.”

“I know, but-”

“Listen,” you say firmly. “Whatever the reason, that was a really rotten thing you did. It was just plain mean and selfish. Sure, you didn’t really mean to hurt me, but you did. You purposely messed up something I put a lot of work into.”

“I know.” Choso’s expression is desolate. “I like that about you. I love that you do nice things for people even if you don’t have to. Y-you’re so careful and considerate of other people. I was being selfish and it was so, so fucking stupid. You would never do something like that to me…you’re so good to me.”

“Choso, this isn’t just about yesterday.” you soften your tone, mindful of your volume. Choso looks as if one cold word from you could shatter him into a million pieces. “If you were willing to trash something I put a lot of work into for such a petty reason, it’s making me second guess things and now I’m wondering if maybe you’re not the person I thought you were. Is it more important to keep me dependent on you than for me to be happy?” You set your cup down on the nightstand, trying to keep your voice from cracking. “Maybe this isn’t going to work out.”

“Don’t say that.”

Choso all but drops his coffee onto your dresser, barely glancing at it as he rushes to you; he lowers himself down on his knees, eyes glistening with both unshed tears and sheer adoration as he looks up at your pained face. You let him hold your hands, still folded in your lap, as Choso rests his forehead on your lap. They’re ice cold; how long had he been waiting outside?

“It’ll never happen again. It shouldn’t have happened at all. I know I could have just talked to you, I know you would have listened, but I didn’t even give you a chance, I just did what I wanted. I’m not nearly as kind as you.” Choso admits, words muffled as he buries his face into your thighs. “I don’t deserve you, but I need you. I’ll do whatever you say until you trust me again. Do you hate me?”

“Choso, I never hated you, I was just hurt.” you squeeze his hands gently. “The only reason I got so upset in the first place is because I love you so much. Hell, the cake for the party was more practice than anything so I could make you an even better cake. If you were worried, you should have just told me. You’re not some evil person from feeling jealous, but what you did was wrong. I really need to know that you understand where I’m coming from, I don’t want us to break up or anything. Did you really think I was trying to end things yesterday?”

Choso nods, head still resting on your thighs. “I thought you blocked me on everything. I thou-thought you didn’t ever want to see me again. I should have waited, Eso even said you probably just needed some space, but…I’m so used to being with you, texting you. I was going crazy.”

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to ghost you. And I’m sorry for calling you a jerk.”

“I am a jerk.”

“No, you acted like a jerk,” you nudge Choso’s shoulder to get him to look up; he does, taking in your face with those pleading puppy dog eyes you can never resist. “I forgive you. I love you baby, so, so much.”

“Bunny,” Choso’s lip wobbles and fat tears roll down his cheeks and chin, dripping onto your hands. “Thank you. I’m sorry I made you cry, just thinking about it makes me want to-to-” he sniffs and clenches his teeth against a whine. “I’m just sorry. I love you. I missed you so much. I couldn’t sleep knowing you were hurting because of me and I wanted to come here right away, but I thought if I did you’d really be fed up and-”

“You didn’t sleep?!” you slowly sit and move so you’re seated further up the bed; Choso follows suit, basically crawling over your pillows and covers to be next to you, tears still streaming down either side of his face. “Choso, lay down baby, you should take a nap. You’ll feel better, believe me. We can talk more later and get something to eat.”

“‘So good to me.” Choso tugs on your arm. “I want to cuddle.” He immediately moves over so you can hold him, laying on your sides as Choso stares balefully up at you through blurry eyes. “Can I have a kiss?”

“Choso, you need sleep.”

“Please?” he mutters, eyes lingering on your pouty mouth. “Need a kiss.”

“Okay, just a little one.”

“Thank you. You’re always so good to me…”

You knew those basset hound eyes would be the death of you: what started out as a tender, chaste kiss swiftly evolved into big hands massaging your breasts, then fingers tugging at the sash of your robe, and finally you being pushed onto your back as Choso holds you down in a mating press.

“So good!” Choso can’t stop letting out choked moans, so loud, they almost drown out your cries, pushing your thighs closer to your chest, somehow, some way forcing his cock impossibly deep. There’s hints of pain but the pleasure you get from his cock head rubbing against that little spot just behind your clit was overriding all of it.

“Baby, gotta slow down, you’ll break me at this rate.” you moan, helpless as Choso ducks his head down to lick and suck on your almost painfully sensitive nipples. He had been playing with them obsessively, pinching, rolling, sucking, even leaving dark love bites all over your breast.

“Love you, missed your pussy so much, thought I was gonna, gonna die!”

“Oh god, Choso, please, please baby, it’s too much!” your head lolls side to side; he’s made you cum three times already. Your pussy is a sopping wet mess and it’s all you can do to not pass out as Choso’s thick cock stretches you open over and over again, surely bruising your cervix. “You’re so-ah!” you let out a piercing shriek that only seems to spur him on to go harder. “So deep in my pussy baby, I can’t-”

“Just a little more, I’m so close,” Choso huffs, looking down at you with heavy lidded eyes, cheeks burning and hair sticking to his forehead; he’s a mess from his own sweat and your slick covering his pelvis where he just won’t stop pounding into you. “You look so good like this, I could fuck you forever…gonna cum so hard, give it all to you,”

“Cum in me,” you sweep his damp hair off his forehead with a faint, fucked out smile. “I want to feel it dripping out of me…can you be a good boy and cum in my pussy?”

“Yes, yes! Oh fuck, yes!”

Choso kisses you roughly, hips rolling into yours, barely pulling his cock out at all, as though he wanted his cum to go as deep inside you as it could go. It’s hot and spurting into your battered insides; thankfully Choso has enough strength left to hold you up as he humps your plush, limp body like a dog in heat.

“Mine,” he groans, thrusting once more with a violent shudder. “Only mine.”

You suppose it’s not the best idea to encourage him, but you nod anyway, shaky hand in his hair to pet the tangled strands, chest heaving and light headed as Choso pulls his softening cock out slowly so as not to hurt you. He pants against your neck, curled into your side and using his wide palm to rub gentle circles over your hips and thighs.

“My poor bunny.” Choso mutters fondly as his fingers trail over your twitching thighs. “I’ll do better. You won’t regret this. I’m gonna get a bath ready for you, okay?”

“Th-thank you.”

“Sh, just relax, don’t get up.” Choso moves sluggishly to take the box of tissues from your nightstand; the coffee he brought you has somehow not been knocked off in the frenzy. “You’re so cute like this. I’ll wipe you off a bit first, nice and easy. Does it hurt down there?”

“Not really; feels more numb actually.” you roll your head to stare at him directly, meaning to look at least a little serious but you come off more like a grumpy kitten. “Don’t think just because you made me almost pass out that I forgot everything from the past 24 hours mister. I’m holding you to your word.”

“Yes ma’am.” Choso agrees with a hum as he wipes at the mess between your legs. “Thank you again…I still ate the cake you made for me. It was really good.”

“Oh right.”

“Yuji said you should have thrown it in my face.” Choso adds, a bit sheepish at the memory. “I almost didn’t eat it: I thought it would be the last thing you ever gave me…”

“Choso,” you smile at him sadly. “I love you. You know that, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you?”

“Uh huh.” Choso brings you into his arms, careful not to jostle you too suddenly. “Just scared. I’ve never felt this way before.”

“Never?”

“No.”

“Why are you scared? Do you still think I want to break up?”

Choso shrugs. “What if the more you get to know me, the more you see bad things?”

“What kind of bad things?”

“If…if I could, I’d keep you with me. Sometimes when we’re alone, I don’t want to let you go. Then I start wondering if trying to keep you safe will just make you unhappy with me or that I’ll scare you off and then…” A single tear escapes Choso’s eye and he draws you in closer to his chest. “I don’t know what I’d do. Compared to you, I’m really selfish and short sighted.”

“No one’s perfect. I’m not.”

“You're just saying that to make me feel better.”

“I overthink things and get worked up over upsetting people. I hold myself to unattainable standards.” you list off tiredly. “And I keep doing this thing where I shy away from letting people really…know me. Like if they do, I’ll just let them down. I feel like an imposter half the time when you say all these nice things about me. You’re the first person I’ve actually wanted to know me, warts and all. It’s worth getting to be with someone like you, Choso. That’s just how relationships work; you’re always risking getting hurt or disappointed when you let people love you…when you love someone. And I love you.”

“Um…is it bad that I feel happy I’m the only person you talk to like this?” Choso sniffles. “Sorry. I’m being selfish again.”

“Maybe a little, but for the right reasons.” you grin and wipe a thumb under his eye. “For the record, it makes me happy you think of me so highly. You make me feel special.”

“You are special and anyone who thinks otherwise is stupid.”

“Does that include me then?”

Choso looks visibly panicked. “Wa-wait, that’s not what I meant!”

“I know, I know, sorry baby.” you kiss him before he starts into another round of apologies. “That was just a little payback. Ah, Choso!”

“Not funny.” Choso grumbles, bundling you into the blankets as you giggle and let out a faux fearful squeal; the sly quirk of his lips betrays his actual intentions. “After your bath, I’m gonna give you a real reason to scream.”

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syrupfog · 4 months ago

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Modern au where Sanji, adopted off the streets by Zeff when he was ten, spent eight years convinced that when he turns eighteen Zeff is going to throw him out, say that he served his time and he wants Sanji gone.

Then that doesn’t HAPPEN, and Sanji is afraid to ever bring it up.

He goes off to university expecting that when winter break comes he won’t have a bed to return to, and that makes him a little… erratic. Throwing himself into his classes to keep his scholarship but also working overtime to get money to afford a place to stay when he’s on break and in the summers, and overall just completely neglects human connection because he’s convinced he’s on his own.

It’s probably a miracle Luffy finds him and forces friendship onto him, bringing his friends into Sanji’s space (His dorm roommate Gin dropped out in the first week so Sanji’s REALLY been alone).

And with Luffy comes his asshole friend Zoro, who Sanji learns is ALSO adopted and he RESENTS him for it. Because Zoro is perfectly secure in his relationship with Mihawk— probably because he was adopted at such a young age.

But Sanji doesn’t feel that security. He knows he’s beyond lucky to have been picked up by Zeff at all, knows he can’t keep asking for free handouts from him. It would be more than enough to be hired at the Baratie someday.

But Luffy pushes into his life and pushes Zoro in along with him, and one day manages to drag Sanji to an Actual Party after his shift in the canteen is done, and get him properly drunk for the first time maybe ever.

Sanji is an angry AND weepy drunk.

He tries to fight Zoro (who can hold his alcohol just fine) then ends up collapsing on him in tears, yelling that it’s not FAIR that Zoro has everything he wants. Zoro assumes this means his three swords. He tells Sanji he’s not sharing.

Sanji sobs that his dad is going up abandon him, has probably already thrown his shit to the kerb.

Zoro, in an oddly selfless (to Sanji’s eyes) act, says that Sanji’s old man can shove it, and if he’s really like that then he’s an asshole who doesn’t deserve Sanji anyway.

Then he says Sanji can come home with HIM for winter break. Perona always brings guests (boyfriends) home on holidays.

And as drunk as Sanji is at the time, it’s a surprise he remembers it the next morning.

But he does.

And he had said yes, so… he can’t just back out now.

(Plus, free accommodations? Sanji’s meals right now are what he can sneak from the canteen while he works, he’s saving as much as possible to afford a place this summer without a co-signer)

So winter break comes and Sanji doesn’t even try to contact Zeff, just goes off with Zoro. It’s a little awkward but arguing with Zoro is almost relaxing at this point, familiar. And Perona is… well, all women are perfect.

And then, and THEN—

He gets a call from Zeff.

And Zeff is fucking PISSED at him.

Because what does he MEAN he’s not coming home for winter hols? He didn’t even CALL TO SAY SO. WHAT THE HELL, EGGPLANT?

And Sanji’s there in the Mihawk living room with his dad yelling loud enough for Zoro to hear and he yells back WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT, OLD MAN? Because “I turned eighteen! I’m an adult! You don’t need to pretend to care about me anymore!”

(Zoro isn’t even pretending not to listen, he’s staring)

And Zeff yells that Sanji is “a pile of horse shit” and “of course I fucking care you shitty little dumbass, you think I’d just kick you out after going through hell to get you?��

And Sanji’s in shock because he— he really thought—

“What,” Zeff continues (he might as well be on speakerphone he’s so loud). He says, “you think that little of me, you shitty kid?”

And Sanji says, “it’s not THAT, you’ve given me too damn much already! I don’t deserve all this shitty charity!”

And that sets Zeff off about how it’s not charity when it’s his OWN KID

anyway. He yells a long time. Sanji sits there and takes it and does not make eye contact with Zoro until after he’s finally hung up.

When he finally does, he says, “I guess I should go.”

“What?” asks Zoro. “Why?”

“I got you to invite me over out of pity when I apparently had a dad this whole time.”

He’s so fucking embarrassed that Zoro heard all of that.

Zoro rolls his eyes. “Fucking hell, Curly, I didn’t invite you over because I felt sorry for you.”

Sanji squints. “Why the fuck else would you have?” He asks.

“I did it because I fucking like you and didn’t want you to be miserable. Also because Mihawk is always on my case about bringing home a boyfriend, he’s tired of meeting Perona’s weekly boy toys.”

Sanji squints harder. “I’m not your boyfriend,” he says.

Zoro grins. “Not YET,” he says.

Sanji feels incensed. “You can’t just—”

Jumping to his feet, Zoro draws his swords from behind the sofa. “If I win this fight, you’re my boyfriend.”

“Fucking DEAL,” Sanji says, clambering up out of his chair. “When I win, you’re going to have to ASK me on an ACTUAL DATE, FIRST.”

The fight is a draw.

They spend the rest of break arguing about how to start dating.

Without the weight of the impending loss of the only family he’s known, Sanji spends spring classes more relaxed, happier, willing to give in to Luffy’s every whim (and he has many).

Sanji goes home to Zeff in the spring, and he brings Zoro.

#zosan #one piece #my writing

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introboy · 11 months ago

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So so excited to share my @mcytblrholidayexchange gift for @follow-the-compass-home! My concept was to combine a bunch of prompts together into one AU.

The premise is a modern-fantasy roommate situation where Tango, Bdubs, and Etho live together in an apartment. The only issue is that none of them are human, but they're all trying desperately to blend in, even though they don't really understand humanity as a concept.

More information can be found below the cut, and an introductory fic snippet can be found here (x)!

Downstairs Neighbors AU

Prompts used as inspiration:

Focus on Tango, Etho, and Bdubs

Include Boatem

Story told from Grian's perspective

Hybrid/inhuman AU

Angst with a happy ending

Emphasis on character dynamics

Here's a summary!!!

Tango, Etho, and Bdubs found each other by looking for roommates on Craigslist. They live in a 4-bedroom apartment together.

Tango is a spirit who wanted to interact with the world in a physical sense, so he built himself a body. He's basically just a ghost possessing an android (but unlike ghosts, he was never alive; he came into being as a fully-formed spirit). He doesn't adhere to normal bodily necessities like food, water, or sleep, which is convenient but also heavily concerning from an outsider's perspective.

Etho is a specific kind of shapeshifter called a mimic. He doesn't have a true form, but can copy the shape and mannerisms of most living creatures. The only constant across all of his appearances is a scarred left eye and white hair. Unfortunately, it takes practice to nail specific species characteristics, so he often forgets what he's supposed to look like and falls into uncanny valley. He wears a mask to cover his more noticable facial slipups.

Bdubs is some sort of plant creature (he doesn't really understand it himself). He has a perfect internal clock and sleeps, without fail, for 12 hours every night. He spends a lot of time in the unoccupied bedroom-- he uses it as a makeshift greenhouse, and it's filled with grow lights and humidifiers. He loves taking care of houseplants, but it's also a cover for him to spend time under the grow lights. Without enough light & water he gets lethargic.

Bdubs, Etho, and Tango, henceforth referred to as BET, all assume that the others are human. But since none of them know how to act human, they continuously pick up stranger and stranger habits from each other.

BET are close friends with Impulse & Skizzleman, who live together across the hall. Their upstairs neighbors are Grian, Pearl, Mumbo, and Scar, who are also besties with Imp & Skizz. BET and Boatem don't know each other well, but Grian especially thinks his neighbors are really odd.

Like BET, Grian is not human, and neither are the rest of his roommates. But they all know about each other, and Grian especially is really good at knowing how to act natural in public places. He's an avian shapeshifter, who can take the form of either a scarlet macaw or a human. Unlike Etho, both forms come equally naturally to Grian, and the shapeshifting process is a lot easier for him.

(Imp & Skizz are not human either-- they are a demon and an angel respectively. But, like Grian, they're really good at blending in when in public.)

One day, Grian gets injured on a flight and accidentally ends up on BET's balcony instead of his own. He's too disoriented to shift back into his human form or fly away, so Bdubs and Etho find him outside their door. Tango calls Impulse over in the hopes that he knows how to fix the random-injured-parrot crisis, but the only result is that Grian and Impulse start to truly take note of how strange their neighbors' living situation is. Incidents like the one pictured above arise (i.e. everyone finding out that there is not a singular scrap of food to be found in the entire apartment).

Ok that's all the rambling I'll do in this post, but I hope you enjoyed! Happy holidays!!

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r3starttt · 5 months ago

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ABBY FLUFF HC’S

taglist

MODERN AU HC'S

𐙚 gets sooo sleepy after she eats. Except for when she's having breakfast, since she's definitely a morning person she has the most healthy massive breakfast ever.

𐙚 definitely eats gym food. The most it tastes like cardboard the more she likes it. And always makes you eat what she eats, no excuses.

𐙚 takes you everywhere she goes. Gym? You go too. Work? She's driving you to your job or waking you early in the morning to take her to hers.

𐙚 cuddles, all the time, any reason or no reason at all. When she's had a bad day, when you're stressed, when you haven't got enough time for each other.

𐙚 loves what you love. She'd to her research whenever you seem interested in something.

𐙚 that's a hundred percent how she made you fall in love. Like, you not even talking to her strictly but just to your friends about something you like and then she remembers? And not only that, she also did research? Just to be able to talk more with you?

𐙚 makes Playlists for you. For the two of you, with songs that are special for both or for you, she's just so in love :(

𐙚 adores massages. Scalp and back massages to be more specific. She never ever doubts on not even asking you but placing herself over you/ cuddle and thats how you know she needs one.

𐙚 plans lots of dates and is the most romantic about it? Picnics and movie nights and stuff, religiously every weekend If possible

𐙚 loves going on trips with you.

𐙚 big on holidays, special dates. She’ll make of it a big deal just for you :((

𐙚 her love language is either physical touch or acts of service if not both. This woman is 25/8 at your service.

𐙚 she loves deep. Adores your face your body your voice your everything

𐙚 she definitely learns everything about you, not in a creepy way but in an I wanna know your culture, your favorite food, your thoughts so I can understand you and be there for you all the time

𐙚 you have a pet? She loves them. It's her baby the second you show it to her no matter what it is (ofc if it's a dog she's already on her knees omfg)

𐙚 whenever you're out together she'll be paying attention to you most of the time. Knows when your social battery ran out, knows when you secretly (not so secretly) hate someone. And always makes sure you're comfortable (the type to give you her jacket when it's too cold, her food when you're still hungry, leave a place with the excuse she has shit to do because she knows you're not comfortable with the people or the ambience or whatever)

𐙚 not to bring Owen or the boat scene but I think people forgets she literally fell asleep so... Abby is definitely a big fan of aftercare.

𐙚 I repeat, she's very productive but sleepy and needs you there with her to take ner naps (such a grandpa fr)

𐙚 biggest spoil lover. You want anything you're getting it right here right now

𐙚 wants a family, I said it, do not argue

OUTBREAK HC'S

𐙚 she's taking you every chance she gets with her (arguing with Isaac to not let you with anyone that's not her)

𐙚 doesn't see the need to bring trinkets for you whenever she goes on patroll or let you bring stuff bcs they just take space, but, she'll find a way to make you the most delicious food, or exchange her own stuff to get you better clothes, shoes, blankets. Anyways, loves 'gifts'

𐙚 whenever you go out, you're either in front of her so she can see you or behind her if there's danger.

𐙚 she hates waking you up whenever she has nightmares but sometimes she can't help but seek for you. Holding your hand in your sleep, cuddling closer, trying to match or focus on your breathing, anything but waking you up :(

𐙚 she trusts you with her life. But also doesn't because she knows your life doesn't really depend on you but on people who could harm you.

𐙚 hates seeing you tired or starving after tough days, even though she knows she'll take care of you or make it easy for you to take care of yourself, she just wishes you could never ever have do anything.

𐙚 lives flirting with you. And then gets too conscious about it bcs of manny

𐙚 she takes holidays seriously and makes sure to celebrate like people used to :(

𐙚 also, celebrates your birthday in the most pretty way, making sure it’s super extremely special for you ever single time

𐙚 very specific, but being accurate to the game. She'll never put you in any danger while searching for Joel. I think that would definitely put the relationship in a risk instead but that would also make her realize how tough the whole situation is, like, she'd be more aware that doing all this could lead her to lose you or vice versa.

𐙚 hates to do it but sometimes (most times) makes you clean the dishes or fold the clothes (you know like what she did with manny, that type of stuff)

𐙚 if you like dogs she's making sure to get you one (like Mel and Alice situation)

#( 𓍼𓈀A𝕽𝐂𝐇𝖎V𝕰 ⨟ 𓍯 abby )#abby anderson x you #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson fanfic #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson fic #abby anderson tlou2 #abby anderson #abby headcanons #abby x masc!reader #abby x y/n #abby x fem!reader #abby x you #abby x reader #abby x black reader #abby x reader fluff #abby fluff

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alismak · 4 months ago

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LSKLİNİK - PLATİN

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Plastic surgery istanbul is a great option to improve your appearance and feel better. LS Clinic offers various plastic surgery procedures such as breast aesthetics, rhinoplasty, liposuction and face lift.

If you want to leave your plastic surgeries in reliable hands, you can choose LS Clinic. It provides the best results to its patients by using the latest technology. You can visit the LS Clinic website for detailed information.

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creamflix · 23 days ago

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PERSEPHONE — ryomen sukuna x female reader [chapter 3]

summary: ryomen sukuna, ruthless tycoon of the alcohol industry, is used to crushing rivals. but when his former meek secretary walks into his office as his newest competitor, he’s blindsided. you’ve transformed into a powerful force, ready to go head-to-head in a high-stakes battle for dominance. as tension rises between you — both in business and something far more dangerous — sukuna realizes this fight might cost him more than just his empire.

content warnings & tags: enemies to lovers, modern au, business tycoon sukuna, mentions of depression and alcoholism, love-triangle, angst, slow-burn, eventual smut, mentions of other jujutsu kaisen characters (suguru geto, choso kamo, uraume, yuuji itadori) - this takes place in the same universe as my upcoming salaryman!choso fanfic

word count: 10.7k words

notes: who are y'all rooting for !! this is by far one of my fav chapters to write, i <3 softkuna. thank u all for the love so far!

masterlist

sukuna glared at the invitation yuuji had shoved in his face, barely glancing at the cheerful font before tossing it onto his desk. "join us with your family to ring in the new year!" it read, the kind of saccharine bullshit that made his skin crawl.

"nii-chan, look! it specifically says your family, so we can call choso too, right?" yuuji’s excitement was palpable, but sukuna just rolled his eyes.

“your brother is too busy slogging his ass off at that shitty desk job of his to come for this party.” he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed tightly over his chest as if to physically ward off the impending festive spirit.

“liar! even salarymen get holidays, you know?” yuuji countered, undeterred by sukuna's dismissive tone.

sukuna let out a low growl of frustration. he was seriously considering skipping out on this stupid event. the idea of seeing you again — especially after that christmas party disaster — made his stomach twist uncomfortably. he didn’t want to deal with the awkwardness, the way the sounds of your discomfort felt like daggers in his chest after he stormed off that night. he could just pop in, pay his dues, and leave, right? simple.

"oh, can we bring uraume too, nii-chan!?" yuuji piped up, his enthusiasm infectious, and sukuna felt a reluctant tug at the corners of his mouth. he didn't want to admit how much he appreciated their company, but that didn't mean he had to be happy about it.

“fine. but stop messing up my office, dammit!” he snapped, irritation bubbling up, but he knew deep down it was more about masking his own unease than anything. why did he even care? why was he letting this stupid event get to him? as the thought crossed his mind, sukuna let out a frustrated sigh, knowing he was going to have to confront the lingering tension between you and him eventually.

“did i dress up too much?” choso asked, adjusting his collar nervously as he glanced at his reflection in the car window.

“nah, choso, you look great!” yuuji replied, giving his brother an encouraging thumbs-up.

“you look like an overstuffed turkey,” sukuna deadpanned, barely suppressing a smirk as he leaned back in his seat.

choso shot sukuna an annoyed glare, but yuuji just chuckled. “you should be more supportive, nii-chan. it’s new year’s! everyone’s dressing up.”

“supportive? this is a party, not a damn fashion show,” sukuna retorted, rolling his eyes as he scanned the road ahead.

“oh, come on! let him shine a little,” yuuji said, nudging choso with his elbow. “it’s about time you showed off those muscles!”

“what muscles?” sukuna muttered under his breath, then added louder, “if he’s gonna strut around like a peacock, i’m gonna need to see some actual muscles.”

“you’re just jealous because you can’t pull off this look,” choso shot back, a hint of a smile creeping onto his face.

“jealous? please,” sukuna scoffed, though the truth was he couldn’t remember the last time he’d dressed up for anything. “i’d rather wear a potato sack than look like a wannabe model.”

the banter continued as they pulled up to your sprawling penthouse. sukuna’s eyebrows raised at the sight, unimpressed, yet unable to hide the flicker of intrigue. “showoff,” he muttered, his usual demeanor creeping back in.

yuuji and choso, on the other hand, were practically gaping. the fairylights adorned every single tree lining the pavement, twinkling like stars against the night sky, and the house itself radiated warmth and welcome despite its massive size.

“wow, look at all the lights!” yuuji exclaimed, his eyes sparkling. “it’s like a winter wonderland!”

“it’s too much,” sukuna grumbled, though he couldn’t deny the inviting atmosphere. it made something twist uncomfortably in his chest — a comfort he usually only felt around his brothers. eugh, what was he even thinking? he shook his head, trying to dispel the odd warmth that threatened to settle within him.

“you’re just grumpy because you didn’t bring a date,” choso teased, and sukuna glared at him.

“shut up,” he barked, even as yuuji laughed beside him.

“this is going to be fun! let’s go!” yuuji said, throwing open the car door and stepping out. choso followed suit, glancing back at sukuna, who was still seated in his seat, arms crossed.

“you coming or what?” yuuji called, bouncing on his heels, a wide grin plastered across his face.

sukuna rolled his eyes but finally pushed himself out of the car, letting out an exaggerated sigh. “fine. but if anyone asks, i’nm here for the free booze.”

“now that’s the spirit!” yuuji laughed as they made their way toward your house, the laughter and banter of the brothers echoing into the night.

yuuji burst through the door, practically bouncing off the walls as he called out your name like a lost puppy on a mission. you turned at the sound, a grin spreading across your face as you spotted him weaving through the crowd. “hey, champ! glad you could make it!” you laughed as he rushed over, pulling you into one of his characteristic hugs. wow, he was definitely growing taller than you at this rate.

“sorry, too weird?” he asked sheepishly, stepping back but keeping his hands on your shoulders, eyes wide with that usual enthusiasm.

“nah, kid, you’re good,” you replied, your smile warm and reassuring, just as the moment was punctuated by the approach of choso, who stepped up to join you both.

“and you are —” you started, but choso interrupted.

“choso. choso kamo, i’m —”

“yuuji’s brother, yes. i’ve heard many things about you,” you said with a smile that lit up your features. it was contagious, and choso couldn’t help but mirror it, a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks.

“yea? all good things, i hope…” choso replied, sounding a bit shy but pleased by your recognition.

“only the best,” you assured him, your voice warm and inviting. “yuuji here is like a little sunshine; i can only imagine where he gets it from.”

“ah, that’s definitely him,” choso laughed, relaxing in your presence.

as sukuna watched from a distance, his pace slowed, an odd sensation swirling in his chest. he felt like an outsider, observing something he wasn’t sure he should be a part of. his brothers — fucking choso of all people — were laughing and joking with you, and seeing their smiles brightened by your presence stirred something in him that he couldn’t quite articulate.

was it envy? concern? or maybe something more complicated? he’d always been the one to shoulder the weight of responsibility, to keep his brothers grounded. but now, here they were, so easily comfortable with you, and he felt that weird feeling settle deeper in his gut.

“you’re really good with them,” he muttered under his breath, crossing his arms as he continued to observe. he didn’t want to admit how nice it was to see choso and yuuji at ease, their laughter ringing out in the crowded room. it made something ache inside him, a longing for connection he rarely let himself indulge in.

sukuna’s gaze flickered between you and his brothers, his heart tightening at the sight of the warmth you brought into their lives. he hated how much he wanted to step closer, to be part of that moment, yet he stayed rooted to his spot, silently watching over the happiness that somehow felt fleeting.

suguru approached the three of you with a casual wave, a smirk dancing on his lips as he motioned for you to take care of “pinkie pie over there.” sukuna stood off to the side, arms crossed, watching the interaction with a sulky expression that resembled a lost puppy. you rolled your eyes, a smile creeping onto your face at the sight of sukuna’s irritation.

“come on, let’s give you lads a look around,” suguru said, guiding the brothers away with a friendly pat on choso’s shoulder. “y/n, you got this!”

as they walked off, you felt a flutter of nerves in your stomach. sukuna was still standing there, eyes flickering toward you, and it made your heart race in a way that was entirely unexpected.

sukuna leaned against the wall, arms crossed as he tried to ignore the growing tension inside him. he had been fine, standing there by himself, watching yuuji and choso blend into the crowd. but then you had to walk up to him and now his entire focus had shifted to the way you moved through the room.

he cursed under his breath, catching himself in the act of staring. what the hell was wrong with him? you looked… good. too good. but he wasn’t supposed to care about that, right? this was just business, just another event to make an appearance. yet here he was, feeling like a damn teenager, suddenly hyper-aware of your every step.

“you look like you’re enjoying the party about as much as i am,” you said, stopping in front of him, a casual smile tugging at your lips.

“yeah, well, these things aren’t really my scene,” sukuna replied, trying to sound as indifferent as possible, but the way his voice came out a little rougher than usual betrayed him. “too many people.”

“you and me both,” you chuckled lightly, leaning slightly closer. “but it’s your brother’s first time at one of these, so… worth it?”

he glanced over at yuuji, who was grinning like an idiot while choso awkwardly nodded along to whatever suguru was saying. sukuna huffed, feeling a mix of exasperation and something else — pride? — bubbling up. “tch, guess it’s worth it if they’re having a good time.”

you smiled, a real one this time, not just the polite one you’d been wearing most of the evening. “you care more than you let on, don’t you?”

his jaw clenched at that, a sharp retort forming in his head, but it never made it out. instead, he found himself caught between wanting to shrug it off and actually admitting that, yeah, maybe he did care about his brothers more than he’d ever say out loud. not that he’d ever admit it to you, of all people.

“don’t get the wrong idea,” sukuna muttered, looking away from you and back at the crowd. “i’m just making sure they don't do anything stupid.”

“right,” you said, but the teasing lilt in your voice told him you weren’t buying his half-hearted excuse.

there was a beat of silence between the two of you, the sounds of the party fading into the background. sukuna’s mind was racing, torn between his usual self-assuredness and this uncomfortable, unfamiliar feeling that crept up whenever you were too close. it was irritating as hell, but at the same time, he couldn’t bring himself to walk away.

“you know,” you said, breaking the silence, “you don’t have to play the tough guy all the time.”

sukuna scoffed, but there was no real venom behind it. “and you don’t have to pretend like you know me, woman.”

you shrugged, unfazed. “i don’t have to. i just see more than you think.”

those words hit harder than he’d like to admit, and for a split second, he wasn’t sure if he hated or appreciated the fact that you always managed to get under his skin. either way, he couldn’t shake off the strange warmth that lingered as you stood there, as if you saw something in him that no one else ever bothered to look for.

damn it, he needed to get a grip.

you approached sukuna again later in the evening, holding two glasses in hand. without a word, you offered him one, and he raised an eyebrow.

“what’s this?” he asked, his gaze flicking between the glass and your face.

“ryomen,” you said, a small smile tugging at your lips. “thought it’d be fitting for the host of the year’s most successful wine to have a taste.”

he took the glass from you, swirling the liquid inside with a thoughtful look. “serving my shit at your own party? i’m flattered.”

“thought i’d give it another shot,” you replied, a hint of teasing in your voice.

sukuna raised the glass to his lips, taking a long sip before pulling it away, his expression unreadable. after a moment, he smirked, that familiar edge of cockiness settling back in. “still tastes like it did when i first made it,” he remarked, his eyes flickering with something almost nostalgic.

“oh yeah?” you prompted, leaning in just enough to show your interest.

“yeah,” he grunted, leaning back a bit. “when i made it for the first time, i didn’t know shit about winemaking. but i figured, hell, people want to get drunk and have a good time, and wine’s as good as any poison, right? so i made it work. took a few tries, but once i got the formula down, it was easy to see the market. people would pay anything for something that makes them feel good for a few hours.”

he paused, his gaze sharp as he turned to look at you directly. “it was a no-brainer to get into the alcohol business. easy target. high demand. good profit margins. all it takes is a bottle or two and people are hooked. but,” sukuna’s smirk widened into something more challenging, “i gotta wonder — did you get into the wine business because of me?”

your breath caught at the question. sukuna’s eyes were locked on yours, almost daring you to respond. your fingers tightened around your glass as you tried to come up with a response. did you? the truth wasn’t simple. you had your reasons, but did sukuna really influence your decision to enter this world?

“what?” he prompted, leaning in slightly. “cat got your tongue? don’t tell me you’re scared to admit it, woman.”

before you could decide whether or not to tell him, your mother’s voice cut through the tension like a knife. “y/n,” she called, approaching with a stiff, formal expression on her face. “i see you’re keeping… interesting company tonight.”

your entire body stiffened as she neared, and sukuna, ever the perceptive one, noticed the change in your posture. he turned slightly, eyeing your mother with a lazy grin, but there was a sharpness behind it.

“ah, just in time,” sukuna drawled, a dangerous glint in his eyes as he glanced back at you. “your daughter was just about to explain the story behind persephone. i’m curious, myself.”

your mother’s lips pressed into a thin line, her tone clipped. “there’s no need to involve yourself in family matters, mr. ryomen.”

but sukuna, ever the provocateur, wasn’t having it. “family matters, huh? sounds serious.” he looked back at you, that smirk still playing on his lips. “come on, tell me. i’m dying to know. what’s the real story behind persephone? why’d you start the business?”

your mother’s face paled, and you felt your stomach twist. this wasn’t how you wanted this to go, not here, not in front of sukuna, of all people. but your mother’s presence, her cold, expectant gaze, left you little room to maneuver. and sukuna? he was watching you like a hawk, waiting to see how you’d handle the situation.

you opened your mouth, but before you could speak, your mother’s voice came out, low and cutting. “she didn’t want anything to do with alcohol after… after what happened.”

your heart dropped, and you shot her a look, silently begging her to stop. but it was too late. she continued, her voice tight with barely concealed frustration. “y/n struggled for years — depression, alcoholism. it nearly destroyed her. the only reason persephone even exists is because she decided to take control and make something positive out of it. but this partnership?” her eyes flicked to sukuna with a glare, “this is the last thing she needs.”

the silence that followed was deafening. sukuna’s expression shifted, the cocky grin fading as he looked at you, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. the weight of the secret was out now, laid bare for him to see.

“so,” sukuna finally said, his voice quieter than before, though no less sharp. “that’s what this is, huh? your way of turning things around?”

you swallowed hard, unable to meet his gaze as the truth hung between the three of you like a heavy cloud.

“she’s worked hard to get where she is,” your mother added, her voice colder than ever. “i don’t want to see her dragged back into old habits.”

sukuna’s jaw clenched, and for the first time tonight, he didn’t have a quick, cutting response. instead, he just looked at you — really looked at you — and for a brief moment, you couldn’t tell if he was angry, impressed, or something else entirely.

the silence stretched on, thick with unspoken words, until sukuna finally spoke, his voice rough but lacking its usual edge. “guess that explains a lot.”

sukuna stormed away from the scene, his footsteps heavy as he made his way through the crowded penthouse, ignoring the curious glances thrown his way. he couldn’t shake the twisted knot of emotions that was curling up tighter in his chest. anger, confusion, frustration — all of it swirling in a chaotic mess inside his head.

it all clicked as he pushed open the glass door to one of your balconies, stepping out into the cool night air. the city lights spread out below him, the noise of the party muffled now that he was outside. the space was quiet, peaceful even, but sukuna was anything but.

he gripped the railing, his fingers clenching hard around the cold metal as his thoughts raced. “fucking hell,” he muttered under his breath, the realization hitting him harder than he wanted to admit.

you puked at the christmas party because of his wine — because you drank ryomen.

it made sense now. the way you’d looked, the panic in your eyes when you’d tasted it, the way you tried to hold it together before you ran out. he’d been so wrapped up in his own damn ego, so sure that you were just putting on some kind of show, that he hadn’t even considered why. but now? now it was obvious.

you had a history with alcohol. a bad one.

he let out a bitter laugh, the sound rough in the still night air. “should’ve fucking known,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair, tugging at the roots as if that would help clear the mess in his head. he replayed the conversation with your mother, her sharp words cutting through him like knives. she hadn’t pulled any punches. the way she spoke about your past — your struggles — it all made sense now.

he leaned forward, elbows resting on the balcony railing as he stared out at the city. why the hell hadn’t you said anything? why hadn’t you told him you had a history like that? his mind was racing, trying to piece everything together. the christmas party, the way you had avoided drinking since then, how stiff and tense you’d become every time the topic of alcohol came up. he hadn’t paid attention. he hadn’t wanted to pay attention.

“shit,” he muttered again, the weight of it all sinking in.

for once, sukuna didn’t feel like he had the upper hand. he didn’t feel like the one in control. and that pissed him off. not at you — no, he couldn’t pin this on you. this was on him. on how blind he’d been to the signs.

he gripped the railing harder, his jaw tightening as he tried to shake off the feeling that had settled deep in his gut. guilt, maybe? that’s what it felt like. the fact that he’d been so proud of the wine, so fucking smug about ryomen’s success, and the whole time, it had been a trigger for you. a reminder of the darkest part of your life.

what the hell was he supposed to do with that?

he scoffed, shaking his head. emotions like this weren’t his strong suit. he wasn’t built to deal with feelings — especially not this complicated mess. he was sukuna, the one who bulldozed through shit without looking back. but this... this was different.

“fuck,” he muttered under his breath, staring out into the distance, his thoughts still tangled.

the wine, your past, the way you had puked at the party, it all started to blur together in his mind. for the first time, he couldn’t just shove it aside. it stuck with him, gnawing at him in a way he didn’t like. he wasn’t used to caring, wasn’t used to giving a shit about anyone else’s problems. but somehow, without even trying, you’d managed to wedge yourself into his thoughts.

you found sukuna on the balcony, his broad back facing you as he stared out into the city. the night was still, a cool breeze brushing against your skin as you stepped forward, your footsteps soft against the stone. you didn’t say anything at first, just stood there, feeling the weight of the moment settle between you.

he must have heard you, because without turning around, sukuna spoke, his voice low, rough. “didn’t realize i hurt you like this,” he said, his tone gruff, like he was trying to push the words out. “i’m sorry.”

his apology caught you off guard. sukuna didn’t do apologies. that much you knew. but here he was, standing on your balcony, admitting that he might’ve fucked up. your gaze softened as you took a step closer.

“you don’t need to apologize for my alcoholism,” you said, your voice steady but gentle. “and besides, this is just your way of saying your wine is good, isn’t it?”

that earned a slight turn of his head, and he glanced back at you, eyes narrowing in a mixture of amusement and something else — something harder to place. “oh yeah?” he asked, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. “that what this is?”

you shrugged, a small smile playing on your lips. “yeah.”

sukuna shifted, turning to face you fully now, his eyes locking onto yours. the tension between you two was there, thick in the air, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. it was… something else. something unspoken.

for a moment, he didn’t say anything, just looked at you, his usual sharpness softening around the edges. then, with a strange sort of hesitation — one that didn’t fit the man you knew — he spoke again. “sukuna.” he paused, his gaze lingering on your face. “call me sukuna, not…ryomen. we’re business partners, no?”

you raised a brow, caught off guard by the shift in his tone. “business partners?” you echoed, tilting your head slightly as you looked up at him. “this about being professional all of a sudden?”

he let out a low scoff, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back against the railing, his expression guarded. “something like that,” he muttered, deflecting, his eyes flicking away for a brief second.

you could see it, though. that small crack in his usual armor. something vulnerable hiding behind his sharp words and the cocky attitude he wore like a shield. he wasn’t good at this — at being soft — and it showed in the way he deflected, the way he wouldn’t quite meet your eyes now.

“sukuna, huh?” you repeated, letting the name roll off your tongue. it felt strange, calling him that. intimate, almost. but not in a way that felt wrong. more like… like it made sense.

his eyes flicked back to you, a quick glance before he looked away again, jaw tightening. he wasn’t used to this — wasn’t used to you looking at him like that. like you could see past the rough edges, past the walls he always had up.

“don’t make a big deal outta it,” he muttered, a hint of defensiveness creeping into his tone.

you smiled, taking another step closer, until you were standing beside him. “i won’t,” you said softly, your gaze steady on him. “but, for what it’s worth… it’s nice seeing this side of you.”

he let out a sharp breath, rolling his eyes, though you noticed the tension in his shoulders, the way he shifted his weight uncomfortably. “don’t get used to it,” he grumbled, clearly trying to shake off whatever soft moment this was turning into.

but you could see through it. through him. the way his fingers clenched slightly on the railing, the way his eyes darted back to you every few seconds. he was trying to put the walls back up, but you’d already seen what was behind them.

you leaned on the railing next to him, the cool metal pressing into your arms. “you can run away from it all you want,” you said, your tone lighter now, almost teasing. “but i think you care more than you’re willing to admit.”

he shot you a glare, but there was no real heat behind it. “don’t push your luck.”

you laughed softly, shaking your head as you looked out at the view. “i won’t,” you said, echoing his earlier words. the silence between you two wasn’t awkward. if anything, it felt… comfortable. a kind of understanding lingering in the air.

sukuna, though, was struggling with it. the softness, the quiet, the way you were just there, not asking anything from him, not demanding anything. it was throwing him off, making him feel things he didn’t want to deal with.

“i’m not good at this,” he muttered suddenly, his voice low, like he wasn’t even sure he wanted you to hear it.

you glanced at him, surprised by the admission. “what, standing on balconies?”

he huffed, a short laugh escaping him despite himself. “nah. this… whatever the hell this is.”

“you mean being human?” you asked, a teasing smile tugging at your lips.

he shot you a look, but it was softer now, less guarded. “something like that,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, before adding under his breath, “pain in the ass.”

you grinned, looking out at the city again. “yeah, well, you’re not too bad at it. when you’re not being an ass.”

he let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “don’t push it.”

the soft clinking of the balcony door sliding open interrupted the rare, quiet moment between you and sukuna. suguru stood at the threshold, arms crossed over his chest, a sharp smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he took in the scene. you could see the glint of something… off in his eyes, but he kept it under wraps with that same calm, calculated demeanor.

“am i interrupting something?” suguru’s voice was low, mocking, his usual easy confidence underlined by something harder tonight.

you straightened up from where you were leaning on the railing, your posture stiffening a little. sukuna shot suguru a sideways glance, his expression unreadable but clearly unbothered by the tension that suguru's snark added to the air. you, on the other hand, could sense that suguru wasn’t exactly happy about walking in on you and sukuna having what could almost pass as a… normal conversation.

“nothing worth interrupting,” sukuna replied flatly, his voice steady, almost dismissive. his gaze lingered on suguru for just a beat longer, sharp and assessing.

suguru’s eyes flicked to you, holding your gaze for a second before his usual composure returned, though you could still feel that tightness beneath the surface. “right. well, it seems like your boy yuuji ‘stomach bug’ itadori has had a bit too much fun tonight,” suguru said, his tone drier now, almost amused. “choso’s in the bathroom with him. the kid’s fighting for his life in there after inhaling half the appetizers.”

“you’ve gotta be kidding me,” you muttered, exasperation slipping into your voice. yuuji’s appetite almost always did get him into trouble. you rubbed your temples, already feeling the stress of being a host stacking up.

sukuna’s eyes flicked to you, a brow raised. “kid can’t even handle a few snacks without keeling over?” he scoffed, though there was a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

“yeah, well, yuuji’s got the stomach of a vacuum, apparently,” suguru added, amusement flashing briefly in his dark eyes. but the tension between you and him lingered, unspoken.

“great,” you muttered, already feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on you. “i’ll go check on him in a minute.”

sukuna was already moving, pushing off the railing and stepping toward the door. “i’ll grab something for the kid,” he grumbled, clearly not wanting to stick around any longer than necessary. “nearest pharmacy should have something for his dumb ass.”

you hesitated for a second before speaking up, feeling a bit of responsibility as the host. “i’ll come with you,” you offered, voice steady but casual. “you know, in case you get lost or something.”

sukuna shot you a look, the faintest trace of a smirk pulling at his lips. “you think i need help finding a pharmacy?”

“just trying to be a good host, sukuna,” you replied, your tone light but pointed, echoing his earlier words.

“fine. whatever.” sukuna shrugged, starting to head toward the door before stopping, turning back to glance at you.

“you have a merc?” he asked, almost incredulously.

you blinked, taken aback by the sudden question. “you don’t?” you shot back, raising a brow.

sukuna scoffed, shaking his head as if the mere idea was laughable. “nah, too flashy for my taste.”

“well, lucky for you, my merc isn’t just for show. it’ll get us to the pharmacy and back in record time,” you said, already moving to grab your keys.

suguru stood back, arms still crossed as he watched the exchange with thinly veiled irritation, though he didn’t say anything. it was clear he had more on his mind, but whatever it was, he’d hold it until later. right now, all he could do was let out a low chuckle as you and sukuna headed for the door. “don’t have too much fun playing chauffeur,” he muttered under his breath, though only you seemed to catch the edge to his tone.

you shot suguru a quick glance, sensing the unspoken frustration simmering beneath his usual cool facade. something to deal with later. for now, you had a sick yuuji to worry about — and a silent car ride with sukuna ahead of you.

as you and sukuna stepped out into the night air, you could feel the lingering tension from earlier slowly ease away. sukuna didn’t say much as you unlocked the car, and you didn’t push him to talk, but you could feel his gaze on you every so often, as if he was still trying to figure out where the hell this night was going.

the hum of your mercedes’ engine filled the silence between you and sukuna, a heavy contrast to the noise and chaos you’d just left behind at your place. the roads were mostly empty, your headlights casting long shadows on the quiet streets as you drove to the nearest pharmacy. you hadn’t realized how tense the atmosphere would feel, stuck in such close proximity with sukuna, the ryomen sukuna, in the small space of your car. it felt surreal.

beside you, sukuna sat with one elbow resting against the door, his gaze drifting out the window, though you could tell he wasn’t paying much attention to the passing scenery. he seemed... uneasy? maybe? you couldn’t quite place it. you thought about saying something to break the silence, but nothing came to mind. and then —

the click of your aux being connected startled you slightly, the car's speakers coming to life as sukuna fiddled with your stereo. before you could even react, the heavy beat of megan thee stallion’s “body” came through the speakers, the bass hitting hard in the confined space of your car.

you blinked in surprise. "you listen to megan thee stallion?" you asked, glancing over at sukuna, a brow raised in mild disbelief.

sukuna didn't miss a beat, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he leaned back into the seat. "you don’t?" he shot back, his tone laced with mock surprise. you could hear the teasing undertone in his voice, poking fun at your earlier comment about him not having a merc.

you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your lips, shaking your head at the ridiculousness of it all. ryomen sukuna, of all people, playing megan thee stallion in your car while his younger brother was quite literally fighting for his life back in your house’s bathroom. it was almost too much. the absurdity of it made you feel... lighter, more at ease, as if the heaviness of the night had been momentarily lifted by the unexpected normalcy of it all.

“god, this feels weird,” you muttered under your breath, half to yourself. sukuna, of course, caught it.

“what? can’t handle good music in your life?” he asked, smirk growing as the track hit the chorus, the catchy, almost hypnotic beat making it impossible not to tap along to the rhythm.

“body-ody-ody-ody-ody-ody-ody-ody…” megan’s voice filled the car, and you couldn’t help but chuckle again, glancing out at the road ahead to distract yourself from the growing flush on your cheeks.

you were hyper-aware of everything in that moment — the thumping bass vibrating through the car, the subtle scent of sukuna’s cologne that lingered in the air between you, and the fact that his sharp eyes, despite being focused on nothing in particular, kept flicking to your side of the car every so often.

and that damn blush on your cheeks? yeah, he noticed. out of the corner of your eye, you saw him glance at your face again, eyes narrowing ever so slightly as if he was trying to figure out why the hell you looked so... flustered. but sukuna, ever the unbothered one, just brushed it off. probably makeup or the cold weather — that's what he told himself.

still, it was there, nagging at the back of his mind. why the hell were you blushing?

you pulled up to the pharmacy, the neon lights illuminating the quiet parking lot. as the car came to a stop, you reached for the keys to turn off the engine, the last echoes of the track fading into the background.

“well, this is it,” you said, exhaling softly as you undid your seatbelt.

sukuna didn't say much as he got out, but there was something lingering in the air between you two, something unsaid but thick with meaning. it was as if, in the quiet moments of the drive, with only music and occasional banter to fill the space, you both had somehow settled into an oddly comfortable rhythm — one that neither of you were fully ready to acknowledge.

you stepped inside the pharmacy together, and while sukuna kept his usual stoic expression, you could tell he was still thinking about the ridiculousness of the situation. you could feel his presence beside you as you made your way to the over-the-counter meds, his large frame moving with that same predatory grace, always aware, always watching.

“you get something for yuuji, i’ll grab the other stuff,” sukuna said, his tone more serious now as he focused on the task at hand. business mode was back on.

you nodded, grateful for the distraction as you grabbed the necessary meds off the shelf. but even as you busied yourself, you couldn't quite shake the feeling that something had shifted between you and sukuna tonight — something small, but noticeable.

as you stood in the pharmacy aisle, browsing through the meds you needed for yuuji, your phone buzzed in your pocket. without even glancing at the screen, you knew who it was. sugu🤍, the contact name flashing up, paired with that familiar picture of the two of you sitting in your mom's garden, smiling like there wasn't a care in the world.

you swipe to answer, holding the phone to your ear, balancing the medicine in your other hand. “hey, sugu.”

“where are you?” his voice was clipped, almost tense. great, you thought, he was definitely not in a good mood.

“sugu, i just left. i’m getting the medicines for yuuji.” you answered matter-of-factly, tossing another box of meds into your basket.

“did you really have to go with pinkie pie? or, fuck that, did he have to come with you?” his voice had that edge to it, laced with frustration. you could picture the way his jaw was probably clenched right now, his expression tight.

you sighed, rolling your eyes at his tone. “suguru, his own brother is sick, at my house. i need to be a good host.” you emphasized the last bit, hoping to get him to back off a little.

“i could have just gone to get it, you know.” he grumbled, like it was the most obvious solution to the whole situation.

you paused in the middle of the aisle, hand resting on a shelf as you narrowed your eyes slightly at his words. “you didn’t offer to,” you pointed out flatly.

there was a long pause on the other end, and for a moment, you wondered if the line had disconnected. you glanced down at your phone screen just to check, but no — he was still there. the silence was heavy, lingering between the two of you.

“suguru?” you prompted after a beat, tilting your head as if he could see your expression.

he sighed, his tone losing some of its sharpness. “whatever. just... come back home to me soon.” the words slipped out of him in a way that sounded... a little too possessive, even for him.

you raised a brow, caught off guard. “to you soon?” you echoed, a teasing lilt in your voice, the phrase sticking with you because it was such a... suguru thing to say.

there was another pause, but this time it felt deliberate, like he didn’t know whether he wanted to double down or just brush it off. eventually, though, he muttered, “yeah, see you.” and the line disconnected.

you blinked, staring down at the phone for a moment, the abrupt end of the call still making you smile a little. it wasn’t like suguru to be this weirdly possessive, and honestly? it made you giggle. you knew he was being protective more than anything — he always was when it came to you, especially when sukuna was involved — but the way he framed that parting sentence? come back home to me? god, it was so suguru, in the most ridiculous way possible.

while you were at the other end of the pharmacy, dealing with suguru’s call, sukuna’s phone buzzed quietly in his pocket. he glanced down, eyebrow raising when he saw the name flash on the screen — uraume. no fancy emoji, no photo, just their name. typical.

sighing, he picked up the call, already half-expecting some snide comment. “what now?” he grumbled into the phone.

uraume’s voice came through, dry as ever. “so, you finally took my word of advice, huh?”

sukuna narrowed his eyes. “fuck you talking about?”

“going with y/n as she gets medicines for the young master,” they responded, a slight note of smugness in their tone that sukuna immediately hated.

“for the record,” he began, tone already defensive, “she offered to come with me, not the other way around.” his words came out a bit harsher than he intended, but he couldn’t help it. the whole situation was making him more agitated than he cared to admit.

uraume, of course, didn’t buy it for a second, though they let it slide. there was a pause before they spoke again, more business-like this time. “how is yuuji holding up, and choso?”

“the young master is what the kids today would call ‘hard coping,’ and choso... well, he’s about to faint from concern,” uraume reported, their tone as matter-of-fact as ever.

sukuna groaned inwardly, rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration. “of course he is,” he muttered under his breath. “just keep them put. i’m on my way back.”

“understood,” uraume said, and with that, the call disconnected.

pocketing his phone, sukuna glanced around, spotting you further down the aisle, finishing up your conversation with suguru and grabbing the last of the meds. he took a deep breath, collecting himself as he walked toward you, ready to leave the pharmacy and get back to the chaos waiting for him at your place.

meanwhile, you glanced around the pharmacy, searching for sukuna. basket in hand, you walked through the aisles, your footsteps echoing softly in the near-empty store. you spotted him standing by the entrance, his eyes scanning the shelves as he absentmindedly tapped his foot, probably waiting for you to finish up.

“got the stuff,” you called out, walking up to him, shaking the basket lightly.

“finally,” sukuna muttered, glancing over at you before eyeing the basket. “you get everything for the little shit?”

“yeah, all set.” you nodded, handing him the basket to carry, which he did without complaint. he probably didn’t even realize he was doing it.

as the two of you walked to the register, you couldn't help but think back to the call with suguru. despite the awkwardness, there was an underlying comfort there, a reminder of how close the two of you were. and now, with sukuna silently walking beside you, the tension of the night felt... almost forgotten.

"you sure your brother's gonna make it through the night?" you teased, trying to lighten the mood.

sukuna scoffed. "he's stronger than he looks. stomach bug won't kill him."

“still can’t believe you let him eat that much.”

“not my problem if he doesn’t know how to handle himself.”

you both shared a quiet laugh, and for a moment, the weight of everything else faded into the background, leaving just the simple, strange normalcy of the moment between you.

by the time you and sukuna stepped back into your penthouse, the clock read 11:47 pm — barely making it before the new year hit. rushing past the decorations and muffled party sounds, you both headed straight for the bathroom where suguru was hovering near yuuji, looking a mix of exasperated and slightly grossed out.

yuuji was still slumped on the toilet, groaning dramatically. “i can’t believe i spent the new year on a toilet seat,” he whined.

suguru, arms crossed, shot back sarcastically, “hey, it’s better than spending it with people you don’t like.”

yuuji’s head shot up. “what was that?”

“ugh, just forget it. here, take your medicine before you puke again,” suguru muttered, stuffing the medicine into yuuji’s hand, wrinkling his nose as he tried to avoid breathing in too much of the bathroom’s unfortunate aroma.

yuuji gave suguru a slightly offended look, then turned to ask, “is my brother okay?”

suguru, always the sarcastic one, smirked. “yeah, he’s a little further away from passing out now. congrats.”

yuuji pouted, clearly defensive. “hey! don’t make fun of my bro like that!” he whined, clutching the medicine as if it would defend choso’s honor. despite the tone of the conversation, there was no real bite in suguru’s voice, and yuuji seemed too tired to actually be mad.

while the bickering continued, the volume of their voices increasing from the bathroom seat to the door, you took this as your cue to find your mother and say goodbye. she had made it abundantly clear that she was ready to spend the rest of her night with her gardening club friends, but there was one last thing you had to address.

“mom, i’ve got the medicines for yuuji, and suguru’s taking care of everything now,” you started, but you could see from the way she pursed her lips that there was something else on her mind.

“hmph,” she began, clearly still irked. “you disappeared from the party because you were off with him, weren’t you?” her voice dropped a notch at the mention of sukuna.

you sighed, exasperated, and quickly explained the situation. “mom, yuuji was sick, and sukuna came with me to get the medicine. it’s not like i was off gallivanting somewhere.”

her expression softened, but not without one last snarky remark. “well, i suppose i can’t fault you for helping that poor boy. yuuji’s sweet… innocent, handsome boy... i still don’t know how he’s related to that devil,” she muttered under her breath, glancing toward where sukuna stood.

you rolled your eyes, not even wanting to get into it with her right now. “yeah, yeah. okay, mom. happy new year,” you said, wrapping her in a quick hug before she left to join her gardening friends. you could still hear her grumbling under her breath about sukuna as she walked out.

with your mom gone, you let out a sigh and turned back to the chaos in your bathroom — suguru still bickering with yuuji, and sukuna silently standing by, clearly done with the night.

what a way to ring in the new year.

by 11:53 pm, the house was buzzing with energy, and everyone seemed more than ready for the new year. the countdown flickered across the massive tv in your living room, adding to the rising anticipation. despite yuuji’s earlier bathroom ordeal, the energy was contagious, and no one wanted to miss out.

“how can i get unsick in five minutes, no borax no glue?” yuuji whined dramatically from inside the bathroom, his voice practically echoing off the tiles as he leaned pathetically against the sink.

“you take the damn medicine, that’s what!” suguru yelled from the hallway, his patience clearly wearing thin after dealing with yuuji’s theatrics for the past hour.

“i’m tryingggg!” yuuji sobbed, fomo hitting him hard as the minutes ticked down. every second felt like torture, and the idea of missing the countdown was clearly not sitting well with him.

meanwhile, sukuna, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, shot a sharp glare toward the bathroom. his voice, low and threatening, cut through the noise. “brat! if you don’t get your ass out here in the next two minutes, i’ll wrestle that stomach bug out of your gut myself!”

there was a heavy silence, one that made your heart race a little, wondering if yuuji had finally succumbed to his illness or if sukuna’s threat had genuinely scared him into silence. but before you could even open your mouth to check, yuuji emerged, wiping his face and grinning like he hadn’t spent half the evening locked in the bathroom.

you blinked. “yuuji… you okay?”

“yup!” he chirped, bouncing on his feet like he had never been sick at all. turns out, a threat from sukuna was all it took to chase away whatever stomach bug had plagued him.

the whole group barely had time to process yuuji’s miraculous recovery before you all rushed outside to your backyard, practically dragging choso along with you. choso, who had been hovering anxiously around yuuji, was reluctant at first but was quickly yanked into the excitement as the clock ticked closer to midnight.

the air was electric as you stepped out, everyone gathering just in time for the fireworks. the backyard was packed with friends and neighbors, all of you craning your necks toward the sky as the final moments of the year slipped away. there was something about standing there, shoulder to shoulder with everyone — yuuji looking more alive than ever, choso finally smiling, suguru muttering something sarcastic under his breath, and even sukuna standing there, his usual scowl softened just slightly — that made the moment feel... perfect.

the countdown echoed through the crowd as everyone began shouting.

“ten! nine! eight!”

you felt your heart race, glancing at the faces around you. suguru caught your eye and gave you a small smirk. yuuji was practically vibrating with excitement, and even sukuna looked somewhat engaged, his sharp eyes flicking to the fireworks as they started to light up the sky.

“three! two! one!”

the sky exploded in color, fireworks bursting overhead as the new year officially began. everyone cheered, and for a moment, it felt like all the tension of the night melted away. choso clapped a hand on yuuji’s back, and suguru leaned into you with a knowing smile.

and sukuna, standing just a little further back, cast one last glance at you, something unreadable flickering in his eyes.

he stood back, watching as the scene in front of him unfolded. you were leaning into suguru, laughing at something he’d said, and nearby, yuuji and choso were lost in their own conversation, chuckling about something ridiculous, no doubt. the fireworks lit up the sky, but it felt like sukuna was watching it from another world entirely, standing just a little further behind, isolated despite being surrounded by people. it made him feel... weird.

it wasn’t a feeling he was used to — this odd tug in his chest. his brothers, people he cared about, seemed so at ease, so connected to something he was still struggling to grasp. he couldn’t even focus properly, caught up in the sight of you fitting so comfortably into their dynamic. it was infuriating in a way, how natural you looked with them. his jaw tightened, fingers twitching at his sides as he tried to shake off the unfamiliar sensation.

he didn’t even register uraume standing next to him until they spoke quietly, their voice cutting through his thoughts.

“you know, a life like that is right within your reach. you don’t need to deny yourself.”

sukuna’s head snapped towards them, but uraume’s face remained neutral, as if they hadn’t just dropped that bombshell. their words echoed in his mind. what the hell did they mean by that? were they talking about him finding some kind of happiness? a life where his brothers were content with people who weren’t just him? the thought sat heavy in his chest, uncomfortable.

it annoyed him, really, how accurate it was. it wasn’t the first time he’d noticed yuuji and choso building connections with others, and yeah, it pissed him off sometimes. but this was different — there was something about tonight, about you being so easily part of their circle, that made it feel more... real. like it was happening with or without him.

sukuna clicked his tongue, frustrated, as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “don’t talk like you know everything,” he muttered, though the usual bite in his voice was missing. uraume, as always, wasn’t fazed, their calm demeanor steady as ever.

they walked a few steps ahead, glancing back at him, waiting for him to follow.

sukuna lingered for a second, his eyes trailing back to the four of you standing there, almost glowing under the light of the fireworks. his brothers were laughing, carefree, and there you were, comfortably settled between them, like this was just the way things were supposed to be.

"damn idiots," sukuna grumbled under his breath, but there was no heat behind the words. just something else, something more difficult to name. maybe uraume was right. maybe there was a part of him that wanted to be a part of that life. but fuck if he was going to admit it.

he let out a low sigh before finally stepping forward, walking with uraume to join the group. the moment felt... off-balance, like he was being dragged into something he wasn’t ready to face. but for tonight, just for a little while, he could handle it. he could stand beside them and pretend that this strange feeling — whatever it was — didn’t bother him.

almost like he was embracing this new normal.

though in the back of his mind, sukuna couldn’t shake the thought. how long could he keep pretending it didn’t matter?

as the fireworks burst overhead, casting brilliant colors across the sky, suguru leaned into you, his voice low and soft as he murmured, “you know i love you, right?”

you’d heard him say it before — plenty of times, in fact — but something about the way he said it now felt… different. it carried a weight that made you pause for a second, caught off guard. the fireworks’ loud cracks drowned out the silence that followed, and though you tried to brush it off, chalking it up to the adrenaline and excitement of the moment, you couldn’t ignore the subtle shift in tone.

“yeah, i do,” you responded with a smile, keeping your voice light, hoping to mask the brief flicker of confusion in your chest.

suguru’s words, though innocent enough, didn’t go unnoticed by sukuna. standing just a few steps behind, he overheard the exchange, and something in him tightened. it was subtle at first — just a prick of annoyance he could easily brush off. after all, what right did he have to feel any type of way about it? suguru had always been close to you, and this wasn’t the first time he’d said something like that. but tonight… yeah, tonight it felt different. and he hated it.

screw this, sukuna thought, clenching his jaw as he tried to shake off the feeling. but the way suguru leaned into you, his words hanging in the air, stuck with him more than he wanted to admit. it wasn't jealousy — at least, that’s what he told himself. nah, couldn’t be. but something about seeing you and suguru in that moment, wrapped up in your little world, made sukuna feel… off.

he gritted his teeth, glancing away like the fireworks had suddenly become the most interesting thing in the world. but his mind was elsewhere, replaying the scene, overanalyzing every little detail. was there something more to it? was he just imagining things?

sukuna let out a low grunt, frustrated by how much it was getting to him. why the hell do i even care? he thought, biting the inside of his cheek. this wasn’t his place. you and suguru were whatever you were, and he had no claim to anything. yet, that nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach wouldn’t go away. the thought of you being so close to suguru while he stood on the sidelines — like some fucking spectator — was driving him nuts.

he stole another glance at you, watching as you smiled at suguru like it was the most natural thing in the world. sukuna felt his chest tighten, a mix of frustration and something else — something he didn’t want to name — swelling inside him.

damn it. snap out of it, he scolded himself, trying to shake off the unfamiliar sensation. but it was too late. the seed had already been planted, and as much as he wanted to pretend it didn’t bother him, it did.

uraume’s eyes, sharp as ever, didn’t miss the brief flicker of something in sukuna’s expression as he watched you and suguru. the way his jaw tensed, the way his gaze lingered just a moment too long before he tried to look away — it wasn’t hard to figure out what was running through his mind. uraume knew sukuna better than anyone, and in that split second, they could see the cracks in his usual stone-cold demeanor.

“you’ll never tell her, will you?” uraume’s voice was low, almost a whisper, but it cut through the noise of the fireworks like a knife.

sukuna stiffened at the comment, his eyes narrowing. fuck off, he wanted to snap, but instead, he muttered under his breath, “don’t.”

it was a warning, short and sharp. his voice carried a bite, but uraume didn’t flinch. they knew him well enough to know that sukuna was deflecting, pushing back the only way he knew how. the truth was there, hanging between them in the silence that followed.

“you can’t keep pretending you don’t care,” uraume continued, their tone casual, like they were discussing something trivial. but sukuna felt the weight of it. “but it’ll eat you up. sooner or later.”

“i said drop it.” sukuna’s voice was firmer this time, but beneath it, there was a hint of something else — something almost vulnerable. and that pissed him off even more.

uraume gave a soft huff, not one to push any further when sukuna was like this. but they knew. they always knew. sukuna’s feelings were something he’d never admit to himself, let alone to you. no, he’d rather let that shit fester inside him than confront it.

sukuna turned away from the scene, focusing on the fireworks as they lit up the sky. but even the bursts of color couldn’t drown out the knot in his chest or the frustration gnawing at him. uraume was right — he’d never tell you. because what the hell would that even change? nothing good, that’s for damn sure.

besides, you seemed happy enough. with suguru, with your whole life. what good would his mess of feelings do in that picture? he scoffed under his breath. none.

“you really are an idiot sometimes,” uraume commented dryly, sensing his internal struggle. but they didn’t press the issue, stepping back and letting sukuna stew in his own thoughts.

sukuna clenched his fists, shoving them into his pockets as he let out a frustrated sigh. this is bullshit.

as you and suguru stood by the door, thanking everyone for coming, you were ready to start the cleanup on your own, but choso, yuuji, and uraume had other plans. despite your and suguru's protests, uraume's no-nonsense logic, combined with yuuji’s almost puppy-like excitement to "help out," completely overrode your resistance. even choso had already started clearing up trash, his quiet nature making him surprisingly efficient at it.

suguru sighed, hands on his hips, clearly not thrilled but accepting it. you exchanged a small smile with him before joining the effort, figuring it was pointless to argue. after all, with everyone pitching in, it made things faster — and more fun, apparently, as yuuji and choso somehow turned even picking up trash into some weird competition.

sukuna, on the other hand, stood in the middle of it all, awkward as hell. his hands were shoved deep into his pockets, and his eyes darted around, unsure of where to even begin. domestic shit wasn’t his thing, never had been. and seeing everyone else laughing and bonding over something as mundane as cleaning up only made him feel more out of place.

“are you just gonna stand there, or help!?” suguru snapped from across the room, glaring at sukuna as he adjusted a pile of empty cups in his arms.

you rolled your eyes, letting out a small laugh as you turned to sukuna, who looked like a cat that just got sprayed with water. “come on,” you said, motioning him toward the kitchen. “you can help me with the dishes.”

he muttered something under his breath but followed you anyway, his steps heavy. when you reached the sink, you handed him a towel and motioned toward the rack where you'd be passing the freshly washed dishes. “dry them,” you instructed with a teasing smile. “i’m not trusting you with washing.”

“yeah? don’t think i can handle it?” sukuna shot back, a small smirk playing on his lips, though there was a flicker of something softer in his tone, like he was grateful you were making this easier for him.

you chuckled. “nope, not risking it.”

as you cleaned the dishes, sukuna stood next to you, drying each plate, occasionally glancing sideways at you, the quiet between you both strangely…comfortable. he could hear yuuji and choso laughing in the other room, could see uraume silently stacking empty bottles into neat rows. so fucking normal, he thought, shaking his head in disbelief.

this wasn’t the kind of scene he was used to — this warmth, this casual domesticity. shit, he wasn’t even sure how to act around it. but here he was, drying dishes in your kitchen, a part of this weird, unfamiliar normalcy.

after a few minutes, he couldn’t help but blurt out, “this really how you spend your time? doing dishes and shit?”

you gave him a look, amused. “well, someone’s gotta clean up after parties. unless you think the dishes do themselves?”

“would be easier if they did.” he smirked again, the corners of his mouth twitching like he was trying not to enjoy this as much as he was.

suguru passed by the kitchen, glaring at sukuna like he was trying to figure out how he got out of the heavy lifting. “i still can’t believe you’re just standing there drying dishes while we’re out here busting our asses,” he muttered, though there was more of a joking edge than real anger behind his words.

“hey, drying’s a critical part of the process,” you shot back, defending sukuna with a grin.

sukuna snorted. “yeah, listen to the boss.”

“you’re lucky she’s got your back,” suguru muttered, shaking his head and walking away. you could hear him barking orders to yuuji and choso again, much to yuuji’s loud complaints.

you both worked in silence again, a strange but not unwelcome rhythm falling between you. sukuna, surprisingly, didn’t hate it. didn’t hate the simplicity of just…helping.

in a loop of thoughts he wasn’t ready to face. his hands moved mechanically, drying the plates you passed him, but his mind was somewhere else — swirling around the feeling that was creeping up on him, a feeling he didn’t expect to find in this place.

he didn't want this to end. but what was "this?" was it the business partnership, the reason you’d both ended up in each other’s orbit in the first place? the unspoken understanding you both shared, despite how wildly different your worlds were? or was it this — this bubble of normalcy that he never thought he'd want, where you, his brothers, uraume, and even that bastard sugur all coexisted in a way he knew he couldn't provide on his own? or maybe it was just this moment — the quiet domesticity of standing next to you in a kitchen, washing dishes, as if this was something the two of you did all the time.

"I don't want this to end," sukuna muttered, his voice low, almost like he didn’t mean to say it out loud.

you glanced up at him, surprised by the sudden admission. “you like dish drying that much?” you teased, trying to lighten the mood.

he shot you a look, his usual smirk tugging at his lips, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "you know what i mean, woman."

you set the dish you were scrubbing back in the sink, the playful smile on your face softening. "i suppose i do," you said quietly, your voice reflecting the undercurrent between you both — one neither of you had fully addressed but had always lingered just below the surface.

the hum of the water filled the silence that followed, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. there was something grounding in it, like the two of you were sharing a moment neither of you knew how to name, but neither of you wanted to break.

sukuna sighed inwardly, hands gripping the dish towel a little tighter. what the hell am i doing? he thought, his mind betraying him as the realization hit him harder than he expected. he didn’t know how to handle this. this warmth. this…want.

but he couldn’t deny it either. whatever this was, he wasn’t ready for it to slip through his fingers.

“it’s not just about this, you know,” he added, a little softer this time, almost hesitant. “this whole damn thing... with you, with them.” he gestured vaguely toward the other room, where yuuji and choso’s muffled laughter could still be heard through the living room. “i don’t know what the hell it is, but...”

you paused, hands in the soapy water as you turned to him, really seeing him for a moment. sukuna, the ever-powerful, ever-confident ryomen sukuna, was struggling. not with business — but with the simple idea of wanting something more.

you raised an eyebrow, giving him an out, a chance to laugh it off. "what? feeling a little domestic, sukuna?"

he gave a low growl, though there was no real heat behind it. “watch it, or you’ll be drying these yourself.”

you chuckled, but the gravity of the moment wasn’t lost on you either. you weren’t ready for this to end, either. there was something comforting about it — the ease, the surprising peace of just… being here with him.

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cranberrymoons · 11 months ago

Text

hey sweetheart

prompt: meetcute at work (@steddieholidaydrabbles) rated: e (18+) word count: 896 words tags: modern au, line cook eddie/waiter steve, hooking up

welcome to Day 4 of the fic advent calendar – bite-sized fics posting every day during the month of december. enjoy!

Steve is halfway through his first week when he meets him: the line cook with the long hair pulled back in a bun, the stark black lines of tattoos snaking up his arms, the flirty little smile that he flashes in Steve’s direction when Steve comes back to pick up Table 6’s starters.

It’s a hell of a time to start a job in the first place: mid-holiday season, no one around to train him except Robin who’s only worked there a couple weeks longer than he has and knows next to nothing about The Way Things Work.

But she’s Robin, and she’s familiar, and she knows him well enough to warn him to avoid the flirty long-haired line cook with the big brown eyes and the dimples and the million watt smile directed right at him and –

Fuck.

“Sweetheart, you rang in Table Twelve wrong,” the guy says, leaning forward over the pass with a ticket in his hand. “This says no onions, but the special isn’t made with onions.”

Steve stares at him as he loads Table Six’s plates onto a tray. He resists the urge to roll his eyes, but only barely.

“My name isn’t Sweetheart,” he says eventually. “And so – just extra don’t put onions on it. Who cares?”

The cook raises his eyebrows, tilting his head to the side. “Thought it sounded nicer than ‘hey new guy’, but if you’d prefer that –”

“Steve,” he says. He shoulders his tray. “My name is Steve.”

The cook gives him a little smile, eyes flashing in the bright fluorescents of the kitchen.

“Alright, Sweetheart.” He tilts his chin up. “Extra no onions for Table Twelve, and you can call me Eddie.”

---

It continues on like that for a week or two: Eddie flirting, finding any excuse to ask a question about his ticket.

Steve knows what he’s doing; he’s worked in restaurants before, and he’s fucked enough hot line cooks in his time that he should know better than to fall into the trap, but still, he finds himself drawn in, entertaining Eddie’s endless teasing and prodding and poking until he starts doing it back – little digs about his shift meal, questions about a menu item that he already knows the answer to.

“Dude,” Robin says, halfway through his first month.

It’s rounding up on Christmas, and the place is packed, corporate groups out for holiday parties and couples on dates.

“If you don’t stop flirting, I’m going to cut your fucking dick off,” she says. “Seriously.”

And – okay. That’s fair.

Steve pulls himself away from where he’d been leaning over the pass, asking Eddie a question about the catch of the day that he’s already asked three times tonight. Clears his throat and straightens up. He tugs his tie back into place, claims the braised oxtail that’s destined for Table Two and clears his throat.

“Sorry.”

Eddie sends him a wink, and Steve feels himself flush.

“Please tell me you’re not going to fuck him,” Robin says as they exit the kitchen.

Steve sighs. “I’m not going to fuck him.”

---

And of course, he’s lying through his teeth.

The very next night, they’re both off work, and he gets a text from an unfamiliar number, just –

hey sweetheart

Steve flushes as he stares down at his phone, scratching a hand back through his hair. He takes a breath.

Wonder who this could be , he texts back.

All he gets in response is a simple,

😇

---

Two hours later, he’s flat on his back in Eddie’s bed, clinging to his shoulders and whining as Eddie fucks him so hard he loses his breath, so hard he feels like his brain is rattling around in his skull. He digs his teeth into Eddie’s skin, ankles locked around his back and not even bothering to hold back the noises that Eddie’s punching out of his chest, just –

“Fuck,” he gasps, voice coming high in the back of his throat. “Holy shit, I –”

Eddie’s mouth runs up the column of his neck, hands trailing over his skin, nails dragging sharp lines down his sides.

“You going to come for me, sweetheart?” he asks, voice low in his ear. “Show me how pretty you can be?”

And that’s – for some reason that sets Steve off, turns his skin over to fire as he grips tighter to Eddie’s shoulders, nails digging in, back arching off the bed, coming so hard he sees stars.

---

And then later, when they’re both fucked out and exhausted and Steve is preparing to take his cue to gather his clothes and make a graceful exit, he feels Eddie’s mouth skimming up the side of his neck, hand tangling in his hair, dragging him into another kiss.

A real one, with teeth and tongue and lips, a kiss that isn’t intended to go anywhere other than just to be , and his breath catches a little in his chest, hand skittering over Eddie’s back as he rolls over on top of him.

“Stay?” Eddie asks, voice quiet and hopeful and muffled where their mouths are still pressed together. He smiles, lips quirking up and drawing Steve along with him. “You know I know how to make breakfast.”

And Steve breathes out a quiet laugh, bumping their noses together. He sighs.

“As long as there’s bacon.”

[also on ao3]

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddieholidaydrabbles #my fic

961 notes · View notes

huramuna · 9 months ago

Text

downpour - oneshot.

modern aegon ii targaryen x nanny reader minors dni, you will be smited.

this is for @targaryen-dynasty sleepover challenge 🤭 i got the babysitter au + the prompt 'why so shy?' i had so much fun with this, modern aegon is a menace and also a sopping wet cat.

word count: 4.5k

content: smutty smut smut (specifics under cut), aegon being a little shit (we love it), saltburn spoilers (lol), allusions to drug / alcohol abuse and rehabilitation, mullet aegon, jaehaera and jaehaerys are hel's kids but they have an unnamed / unrelated father, gratuitous use of song lyrics, probably a touch of power imbalance because of her job

murder on the dance floor - sophie ellis-bexter

warnings: oral (m receiving), face slapping w/ cock, degradation, dirty talk (this man never shuts up), face fucking / deepthroat, cum on face

“Jaehaerys! Jaehaera! Please don’t run in the house with muddy boots!” you called fervently, trying to collapse the umbrella with one hand, two teddy bears slung in the other.

“We won’t!” they both called in unison, followed by the unmistakable sound of muddy galoshes squeaking over the marble floor. You suppressed the urge to groan as you entered the exquisite home through the french doors that led to the backyard.

“Boots off, little ones!” you called again, kicking off your own shoes in a haste to catch the gremlins before they tracked grime all over madam Alicent’s home. You had been working at the Targaryen estate for the better part of a year as a live-in nanny for Lady Alicent’s two grandchildren– twins, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera. It was a wonderful job for the most part, as the twins were a delight and you had grown to have a strong friendship with their mother, Helaena. She was a bit dreamy-eyed and wistful, but was a wonderful mother nonetheless, even if she did have her melancholic days.

The estate was huge and ancient, passed down from generations through Helaena’s father’s side, which was apparently a near royal bloodline from days long foregone. Viserys Targaryen, the father in question, was hardly ever home. He managed the family business (whatever it may be, you didn’t find it in you to ask– all you knew is that they were dirty rich) with his other daughter, Rhaenyra, from his first marriage. He had four children with Alicent, Helaena being the only one of the brood to still live at home.

You’d met two of the others as well; Aemond, a lawyer in the family business who was, in short, all business and no play. He never regarded you, really, besides a quick glance or stiff nod. He had, however, slipped you a eight-thousand dollar bonus at Christmas time with a simple card that read;

Thank you for taking care of the twins and my sister. And keeping my mother sane.

- A.T

The other sibling, Daeron, was the youngest of the bunch, visited usually during holidays, as he constantly was studying abroad. ‘Sowing his wild oats’, as Helaena had put it. He was cordial to you and very much had a boyish charm, and Helaena loved to joke that he had a crush on you. When he had come home for New Year’s, he brought you a souvenir from Iceland, an authentic lopapeysa sweater, made from wool and sewn with a beautiful geometric design.

“Awh, Daeron wants you to stay warm, lovey,” Helaena teased.

“I-It’s just– her hands are always so cold, a-and the wool is supposed to help keep warm! The inner layer is insulating.” Daeron had stammered, the tips of his ears growing red.

“Uncle Daeron has a brush!” Jaehaera squeaked, her words whistling through her tooth gap, she’d lost her first baby tooth just the week before.

“A crush, he’s got a crush!” Jaehaerys corrected softly.

Alicent thought the whole thing very amusing.

That left one child you hadn’t met. You didn’t know much about him aside from small bits of conversation you’d picked up on between the rest of the family. Aegon. The eldest of all of them, and apparently the troublemaker of the bunch. You knew what he looked like from the portraits– blonde hair like the rest but with severely more bags under his eyes. Upon entering the home, one would see the chronological order of family portraits.

It starts with Viserys, Alicent, and baby Aegon; the latter of whom is happy and chubby and bubbly.

Then, it moves to the three of them, plus baby Helaena, with her wide blue-eyed stare at the camera. Aegon is still happy.

The next one adds the addition of baby Aemond– there is a glint of sentience in Aegon’s eyes, but he hasn’t experienced the crushing blows of reality yet.

You weren’t exactly sure, but as he got older, he became more morose– more bags, less light in his eyes. Then came the ear piercings, the tattoos, the head shaving, the bloodshot in the whites of his eyes. The portraits ended with this past year’s Christmas photo. Aegon was noticeably missing from it. You’d heard during one of Alicent’s phone conversations with her father that Aegon was in rehabilitation for a myriad of issues, and looking at his photos, you could only guess which one was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

A particularly harsh clap of thunder broke you from your thoughts, coming back to yourself. You scooped up Jaehaera before she stepped on the carpet with the muddy shoes. “C’mon, let's get cleaned up for lunch, yeah? What do we want for lunch today, lovies?”

“Grilled cheese n’ tomato soup.”

“No! I want mac n’ cheese.”

The squabbling ensued, the twins arguing back and forth for a few moments before you butt in. “Alright, how about– whoever gets the floor the cleanest and puts their galoshes by the washroom the fastest gets to pick?”

The twins squealed in delight as they absconded from your sight, effectively going to do your bidding for you. You would, however, just end up making both meals anyway. As you moved to the kitchen, the sound of the doorbell rang. You bustled to the door, not sure who to expect– there weren’t many roving visitors in and out of the estate unless Alicent was explicitly expecting company– which you had triple checked the calendar when you woke up that morning.

You opened the door, expecting to see a debutante or someone of Alicent’s social circle– ‘twas not the case. You recognized him immediately, seeing his mother’s face in his own. Aegon. He was muddy, dirt flecks splashed on his face as he stood under the stoop trying to get away from the pouring rain. His face was a bit healthier than you’d seen it, the dark circles were still there, but not as prominent. It was like a gloomy day, rather than a full blown storm under his eyes. He had the wisps of a beard starting on his jawline, and his hair was cut into a makeshift mullet, longer in the back.

“Who the fuck are you?” he asked, hands in his pockets.

“Erm– the… the nanny. For the children.” you stammered, his tone catching you off guard. You glanced behind him, seeing a beat up dirt bike caked in mud– that was probably how he got here.

“A nanny? You’re a bit young for that, yeah? My nanny’s were all wrinkly old prunes.”

“Oh– uhm, come in, Mr. Targaryen.”

He perked a brow at the name, but didn’t say anything. He beat the bottom of his boots on the doormat, which didn’t accomplish much. He immediately began to track mud on the floor. “Mum home? Hel?”

“Lady Alicent is… upstairs,” you offered, following behind him at a quick pace. “Helaena is taking a nap– the storm–”

“Yeah, I know ‘bout Hel’s issues with storms. Don’t need to tell me twice. So, you got a name, or are you just the nanny?”

You gave him your name as you glanced at the clock– it was almost time for the children’s lunch and you hadn’t even put it on the stove yet!

“Got any food around here? Fuckin’ famished.” he added then as he nosed around the kitchen, hands still in his pockets.

“I’m just about to make lunch for the twins– uhm, I can make you something too if you’d like.” you walked past him, quickly putting some pots on the stove and starting the gas. You and the twins were on a strict schedule, and if they didn’t get their lunch on time, they would turn into hellions.

“Sure. Whatever the kids are having. I’m not picky.” Aegon waved his hand behind his head as he disappeared from the kitchen and clomped up the stairs, likely to speak with his mother. You fretted for Alicent’s mental state once that was done, and you felt even guiltier for not giving her a heads up.

As the tomato soup heated on the stove and the water began to boil for the macaroni, you unlocked your phone– you were curious about Aegon and why he’d come back, exactly. Well, of course, besides the fact that he lived here (or did, at some point) he was still supposed to be in rehab for another three months. You went to instagram, rolling your eyes as you saw that his profile was on ‘suggested for you to follow!’

You clicked to his most recent photo, the first that he’d posted in over a year.

“Jesus christ,” you muttered under your breath as you put down your phone on the counter to stir the soup.

“Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain,” Aegon teased behind you. When the fuck had he gotten there? “Soup n’ mac and cheese?”

“Tomato soup and grilled cheese for Jaehaera, mac and cheese for Jaehaerys.” you responded plainly, trying not to notice that he was practically breathing down your neck. You glanced over as he leaned on the counter, where you had left your phone. Unlocked. Like an idiot. On his instagram page.

“Curious about me, are you? I’m surprised you haven’t heard enough about me from my mum.”

“I don’t like to pry into Lady Alicent’s affairs–”

“I wouldn’t consider myself an affair, more like a one time fling, eh?” Aegon snorted, grabbing your phone. It took every fiber of your being to not break all sense of decorum you held to snatch it back from him. “You’re not following me– let’s change that,” he mused, beginning to scroll through your page now. “Lots of pictures of the kids here– ooh, a trip to the seaside. There’s no pictures of you on here, eh? Only of… my family n’ other stupid shit, like the ocean.”

“I’m a live-in nanny, sir,” you grit out, stirring the soup with more force than necessary. You consider yourself a patient person, and have become accustomed to how people in the Targaryen’s circle made their jabs. High society and filthy rich people had their own language of insults– ones that you wouldn’t realize they were insulting you until much, much later. It was like a game with a slow burning poison. But Aegon, apparently, was different. There was nothing meticulous about his jabs, no filter, no slow burning poison. It was all punch and sting, like a bite from a rabid dog rather than a viper. “I usually attend family trips.”

“Live-in, huh?” he drawled, his arm leaning over the counter in such a laissez-faire manner that you could feel yourself scowling. “Don’t get much action then, I take it? Let’s see if there’s any nudie judies on here, then…”

“N-no!” you broke then, all sense of manners flying out of your body as you struggled to take back your phone.

“Why so shy? Got something on here you don’t want me to see?” he staved you off, a hand planted firmly on your shoulder as he scrolled through your photos, making all sorts of gaudy faces. You didn’t really have anything overtly scandalous, maybe a few lingerie shots for an old boyfriend.

“Aegon, leave her alone. Give her back her phone.” Alicent’s voice cut through the room like a knife, stunning both of you.

He sheepishly gave you back your phone as she crooked a finger to her son, ushering him to a room on the farther side of the house.

As you fed the twins their lunch, you overheard some yelling, arguing and heated voices. You only saw Aegon later when going to your room to get ready for bed. His eyes were teary and red.

—

The next few weeks went by with some normalcy— everything was as usual, except it was like you had a third child to care for; Aegon. Except this child didn’t listen at all and had terrible habits. He was constantly flirting with you, but also would weave in jabs at the same time— you couldn’t quite tell if he even liked you or not. Not that it mattered, anyway.

You were sneaking in your own lunch one afternoon, eating scraps from the twin’s lunch while they napped— basically just the crust you cut off of the grilled cheese and the small bit of soup left in the pot.

“You eat like a mouse.” Aegon said, always managing to be there to annoy you.

“Too much food makes me tired— I won’t be able to keep up with them if I’m sluggish.”

“Could always drink a red bull or a monster, instead.” he offered, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it in the kitchen.

“You shouldn’t do that inside. It’s bad for the children’s lungs. Lady Alicent says—,”

“Well, it’s my fuckin’ house too, innit? I can smoke in here if I well and bloody like,” he growled, exhaling a puff of smoke into your face. “My mum must be paying you extra to be my nanny too, then? The way you’re up my ass all the time.” he flicked ash in your direction.

You crossed your arms tightly over your chest. He was goading you, baiting you into a reaction. He was being insufferable on purpose. You could tell by his pearly white smile he currently had plastered to his face, like a smug little—

“Never had a nanny so pretty, though,” he continued. “If I asked real nice, would you feed me soup? Dress me up? Give me a bath if I’m real dirty?” he got closer and you could smell him— the smell of marlboro reds and cheap aftershave that had become synonymous with Aegon blew out your senses until it was all consuming.

Your mouth parted as you tried to think of some witty response, some barb, some jab— but nothing came out. You just huffed and turned away from him in an attempt to hide your red cheeks. Why were you blushing?

You could practically hear the cockiness ooze from him, his mouth perked into a cheeky smile as he stole one of the crusts. He knew he’d gotten to you.

—

It’d now been over a month since Aegon moved back home and the building tension between you two hadn’t let up a bit— you constantly felt trapped and elated all at once. When you saw him, your chest fluttered slightly in anxiety and anticipation. What was wrong with you?

It was a dark, gloomy day. The seasonal storms were in full swing, pelting the estate in rain and hail. Alicent, Helaena, and the twins were out on an escapade to Alicent’s father’s house— you guessed Aegon hadn’t gone. But, it was a huge house, so surely you could enjoy some of your time off without seeing him?

A rumble of thunder shook the house, rattling its constitution— and then the lights flickered. Flickered… flickered… then… out. It was dark, then, even with your window shades open. You turned on your phone flashlight and tiptoed out of your room, going to see if perhaps you could smack the backup generator into working.

You hadn’t expected to work today, nor see anyone, as Alicent had given you the day off. So, you were subsequently dressed in your pajamas— a hilariously oversized Bass Pro Shop shirt (a gift from your dad in America) and cat-patterned sleeping shorts. Your toes cracked and creeped on the floorboards with each movement, and to your chagrin, as you passed Aegon’s door, it opened. He was wearing a shirt that said “MILF: Man I love Fishing”, with just his boxer briefs on, which didn’t seem to bother him at all.

“Oh. You’re still here.”

“Yes?”

“Sorry, thought you were gone with the rest. Sad, I can’t do the Saltburn thing now.”

“The… what?”

“The Saltburn thing? Dance around the empty mansion to myself with my cock out.”

“What.” you responded with the most deadpan tone.

“Dance… with my cock out?” he repeated.

“No– I know what you said– but why?”

“Why not?”

You rolled your eyes, shifting the conversation. “So, the power is out– uhm, do you know where the backup generator is?”

“In the wine cellar. Nifty, huh?”

“... the… wine cellar. I can’t say I’ve been down there yet.”

“I know it like the back of my hand, c’mon then. I’m sure I can kick the old gen in the nads and get it to work.” Aegon said with surprising confidence, turning on his phone’s flashlight and half blinding you.

You followed behind him, to which he hummed ‘Murder on the Dancefloor’ while doing a half-assed dance, apparently from some movie that was definitely something you hadn’t watched– you don’t remember the last time you watched a movie that wasn’t geared towards the twins.

“So basically… he had the whole mansion to himself, and then he dances through it with his cock out, hanging massive brain, y’know? It's murder on the dance floor, you better not kill the groove,” he imitates the dance, sprawling his arms out in the doorway to the wine cellar and shaking his bottom a bit, which was, admittedly, nicely fit in his snug boxer briefs. You felt a strange heat flush to your cheeks.

“And this… is a… what? Comedy?”

“Well, categorically no– I’m not a film aficionado. I guess it could be considered a psychological thriller, but I thought it was pretty funny,” he stopped before continuing into the cellar. “It gets pretty hairy in here, so stick close, okay? Ever seen The Conjuring?”

“... yes, actually. Horror movies are kind of my favorite.”

“Ah, a girl after my own heart,” he mused. “Well, think of the basement in that movie, but instead of a bunch of old useless shit, it’s a bunch of old wine.”

“And… instead of ghosts?”

“Oh, there’s definitely ghosts.”

“... what.”

“Yeah, estate is haunted. You haven’t noticed?”

“Shut up.” you murmured. You were a huge fan of horror movies while simultaneously being a huge chicken shit when it came to scary things– you were prone to hiding your face before the big jumpscare or running up the stairs from the kitchen when it was dark, just in case something was chasing you– and your feet had to be covered by the blanket at all times when sleeping.

“Aww, you scared?” Aegon teased, turning to you.

“I mean– ghosts are scary. Of course!” you offered sheepishly, pulling up the collar of your oversized shirt to cover your nose and mouth in an almost hiding manner– a nervous habit of yours.

“I’ll keep you safe, love, no worries about that.”

“... that’s what they always say, right? Then they totally leave behind their girlfriends to get stabbed by the killer or… eaten by the monster.”

“You my girlfriend now?” he asked, that stupidly annoying and somehow charming smug energy exuding off of him in waves.

“Shut up.” you grumbled as you both approached the generator. It was covered in dust and hadn’t been touched or tended to in a long time, it looked like. “Do… you know what you’re doing?” you asked Aegon tentatively, watching as he inspected it.

“Me? Oh, fuck no. I never know what I’m doing, honestly,” he shrugged, giving the metal box a kick and haphazardly pressing some buttons. “No dice, sweetheart. ‘Spose you’ll have to dance in the dark with me for a bit longer, huh? But, if there's a ghost, you'll be... ghost food, or whatever.”

You pinched your brow in annoyance. “I don’t understand you.”

“What’s there to understand? I’m a pretty open book, you know.”

“No– you aren’t. You flirt with me but also… insult me? I don’t get it.”

“It’s called teasing– picking? Picking on? Getting the goat?”

“What? So, like a little boy pulling a girl’s pigtails on the playground because he likes her? That makes absolutely no sense, Aegon.”

“If you spend your time trying to find a reason for it, you’ll go insane. Why not just enjoy the point of it? I like you.” he breathed, suddenly very close to you. He set his phone aside on top of the generator, flashlight up. It illuminated the walls of wine and cast shadows of cobwebs and dust all around the both of you.

“What?”

“Are you deaf– I. Like. You.” he repeated, his knees bumping yours as you were practically glued together, your back now against the ancient stone wall.

Your lips parted as you inhaled a breath– okay, you weren’t exactly expecting him to say that, or even like you at all– you figured the flirting was all hot air, a defense mechanism, something for fun, not… real. Your heart was pounding in your chest and you became all too aware of the fact that you hadn’t been touched since you got this job, maybe even before that– and your previous boyfriends never made you feel… flustered like this. You couldn’t form words as he, uncharacteristically cautiously, put his hand on your cheek. He was so close, so close– his body heat mingled with your inherent coldness and warmed you instantly. You weren’t sure what came over you, but you leaned forward, slotting your lips against his. What the actual fuck were you doing– you were kissing your boss’ son, her notoriously bad mannered, foul mouthed, sloven slob of a son, and you liked it. Your hand instantly went to the back of his head, fingers grazing through his choppy curls– even giving them an experimental tug, which he seemed to enjoy, by the indication of something poking you in your thigh.

His lips moved against yours like a dance, and you couldn’t get the fucking song he was singing earlier out of your head– It’s murder on the dancefloor– you grasped at his hip, it was fleshy and pleasant, the tips of your finger slipping under the elastic of his briefs– But you better not kill the groove– his hands were exploring, too, under your stupid Bass Pro shop shirt, groping at your breasts with reckless abandon – If you think you're getting away, I will prove you wrong – the heat rose in your body until you couldn’t take it any longer, the two of you were practically eating each other alive in this dank, dusty cellar and it was undoubtedly the hottest experience of your life – I'll take you all the way, boy, just come along – your lips parted for a moment, still connected by a string of saliva, bridging the gap between the two of you – Hear me when I say, hey –

“On your knees for me, love?” he asked, his voice suddenly so deep and husky, his thumb skimming over your collarbone.

You fell to your knees for him so quickly– how pathetic. He wriggled down his briefs, already leaking at the fat tip of his cock. He wasn’t overly long, but he was girthy, like a beer can. Your eyes widened, which he must’ve noticed, as his face was plastered with a shit-eating grin. Your mind immediately went to an image of a so-called ‘American delicacy’ (your father’s words, not yours) called Beer can chicken, in which a can of beer is shoved in the ass end of a chicken and grilled. It is apparently as delicious as it is horrifying. Your throat bobbed as you surveyed it, a tentative hand around the base. He shook his head, prying your hand from him.

“Nope, mouth only. Open up, be a good girl.” Aegon muttered, looking down at you, the light of his phone flashlight illuminating him from below– he looked like a God. Or maybe a devil.

Your mouth parted as his hand guided you forward. You wholly expected him to nestle in your mouth, but he surprised you with a slap to your face with his cock. It didn’t hurt, just caused you to yelp in surprise. He smeared some of the pre-come across your cheek, then slapped the head of his length on your waiting tongue. It was somewhat degrading, what he was doing– but it lit a goddamn fire under your ass, the neurons of depravity in your body, wherever they may lie, were alight with each nasty little gesture Aegon gave you, before he finally slid home. It stretched out your mouth, prodding at the back of your throat.

“What would everyone else think, hm? If they knew you were such a fuckin’ slut.” he growled, gathering your hair in his fist like it owed him money, beginning to fuck himself into your mouth, careful to pay attention to your body language to make sure he wasn’t working you over too much. He made sure to be extra careful with his toys, rather than break them.

Tears welled, spilling down your face as you let him use you, degrade you– and yet, he also praised you.

“–such a good girl for me–”

“–you can take a little more, there you go–”

“–prettiest throat I’ve ever fucked–”

You felt like you were on fire, set ablaze by arousal you’d never experienced before– was this what they sang songs about? Dirty, borderline pornographic songs but the point still stood.

You had to chalk it up to the barometric pressure of the storm, right? Aegon wasn’t your type— your type was… well-adjusted, non-addicts, non-bad boy, non-troublemakers. Aegon was the antithesis of what you were into.

And yet— you were into him. You were into him in a pathetic, pitiful way. It made you cringe to think about but you couldn’t resist his puppy dog eyes, nor could you forget the way he was whimpering— fucking whimpering! You squeezed your thighs together slightly at the sound of it, at the blurry-eyed, teary sight of him looking down at you on your knees, eyes half lidded.

He pulled out with a particularly throaty grunt, painting your face in his unnaturally warm seed, somehow careful enough not to get it in your eyes– small mercies. Your lungs inflated with oxygen once more as you caught your breath, trying to gather yourself. You felt the swathe of cloth over your face as Aegon cleaned you up with his ‘MILF: Man I Love Fishing’ shirt, which he had apparently taken off.

“You good?”

You nodded slowly as he helped you to your feet, brushing off your knees with the clean part of his shirt.

“Um– so,” he still held onto you, as if he was afraid you’d run away. “Do you want to watch a movie with me later, when the power is back on? Like, actually watch it– I won’t fuck your face, I promise.”

“... are you asking me on a date?”

“Umm… yeah. I think.”

“Maybe we could watch Saltburn?” you offered with a shrug.

–

“Your mum texted me,” you whispered. “The bridge is temporarily washed out from the storm, they won’t be back ‘til tomorrow.”

“Do you know what that means?” Aegon said, suddenly giddy. You both had just finished watching Saltburn, and you finally understood what the ‘Saltburn thing’ was.

“You know your mum has like ten security cameras set up around the house, right?”

“Okay… and?”

“I’m not dancing naked in the hallway, Aegon.”

“How about just in my room? Please?”

You gave a sigh, beginning to take your clothes off.

“Siri, play ‘Murder on the Dancefloor’ by Sophie Ellis-Bextor.”

‘Okay. Now playing ‘Murder on the Dancefloor’ by Sophie Ellis-Bextor, as featured in Saltburn.’

It's murder on the dancefloor!

But you better not kill the groove, hey-hey, hey-hey!

It's murder on the dancefloor.

But you better not steal the moves.

DJ, gonna burn this goddamn house right down.

#aemondtarqaryenssleepover #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii targaryen fanfic #aegon ii targaryen fanfiction #aegon ii targaryen smut #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii #hotd #house of the dragon #my writing #aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii x you #aegon ii fic #downpour #modern aegon ii #modern aegon ii x reader

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spaceshipellie · 1 year ago

Text

we were never just friends

ellie williams x reader

summary: modern au, ellie and reader are in their mid twenties. ellie and reader have been friends for years. their friendship has always been a little bit flirty but nothing has ever happened between them, not like that. well, not yet anyway…

warnings: not much for this part, implied smut (minors dni)

an: there will be more parts coming (potentially 4?) and i have a feeling it’s going to be toxic and messy but have a happy ending (depending on who’s perspective you’re looking at 👀) so sorry but i’m feeling unhinged!

part one (part two, part three, part four)

you had been friends with ellie for years and your friendship had always been somewhat flirty but nothing had ever happened between you and you didn’t really expect it to at this point.

sure, when you were single, seeing ellie flirt, and kiss, and touch other girls made your stomach twist a bit but that didn’t mean anything, right? she was your best friend and you shouldn’t feel jealous. you always excused your feelings away by telling yourself it was just your anxious attachment talking. if something was going to happen between you and ellie it would have happened by now, and did you even want to risk fucking up your friendship?

whatever it was, it didn’t matter. you and kate had been together for 6 months now and things were good, you were happy.

it was 5:38pm on a friday evening and you and kate had a table booked for dinner at 7pm. you were sat on the floor applying your makeup, music blasting through your speaker, hyping yourself up.

you’d felt a bit lousy lately. nothing major just your clothes felt weird, it felt like you could never get your hair right, that kind of thing. you were excited for a night with your girlfriend, thinking it would make you feel better. your phone flashed beside you with a text.

kate 🩵

6:12pm

can’t wait for tonight baby, i’ll pick you up at 6:45 xx

you replied.

me too, see you soon xx

there were clothes thrown all over your bedroom floor from trying to find something to wear. once you’d settled on something you checked your phone. 6:43pm. kate would be here any minute. you sat on your sofa waiting, getting lost in thought when your apartment intercom buzzed. you buzzed her in and opened the door when you heard a knock.

“you look gorgeous,” kate said, wrapping a hand around your waist and pulling you in for a quick kiss.

“thanks, baby. so do you,” you smiled at her. she grabbed your hand and led you to the car. you mostly drove in a comfortable silence to the restaurant as it wasn’t far.

you were now sat at your table, opposite kate, sipping on your wine and enjoying the food. you talked about how your days had been and laughed about random inside jokes you had.

“so,” kate started, “how would you feel about going on holiday together? i was thinking we could go to california or something.”

a wave of excitement came over you.

“oh my god, i’d love to.”

“great, we can have a look and work it out in the next couple of days.” kate beamed at you and put her hand on your knee under the table. you leaned over and kissed her.

after you’d finished dinner you went back to kate’s place. you both kicked your shoes off as soon as you got inside and with giddiness from the holiday proposal and the wine you had drunk, you flung your arms around her shoulders, pulling her into a slow, giggly kiss. her hands went to your waist as she held you close, walking you both slowly towards the bedroom. you were pushed up against the door for a second whilst she blindly searched for the handle.

“i love you,” you breathed out.

she smiled against your lips, “i love you too.”

the door opened and you both fell into the room, clumsily making your way towards the bed.

˚ · • . ° .

you were lying on your back in kate’s bed, feeling sweet and sleepy. you were both naked and she was fast sleep, her arm dangling across your stomach. you slowly slipped out, being careful not to wake her as you threw on a large t-shirt and some underwear and went to get a glass of water from the kitchen. the clock said it was nearly 1am and you saw you had a message.

ellie 👽

11:27pm

there’s a band playing at hazy tomorrow night, you free?

hazy was kind of like yours and ellie’s go to bar. it had the coolest decor, it was mostly queer people who went, and they always had good music on. you replied.

12:49am

yeah definitely

you took another sip of water before going back to bed, kate still fast asleep.

you both didn’t wake up until about 10am, groaning and stretching as you did so.

“morning babe,” you heard a soft grumble from behind you. you turned to see her sleepy face looking at you.

“morning,” you smiled, “i’ll make us some coffee.”

you got up and made your way into the kitchen, leaning against the counter whilst the coffee machine did it’s thing.

ellie 👽

9:34am

cool, they’re meant to start playing at 8

what you doing today?

you

10:10am

i’m free this afternoon if you wanna hang out earlier?

you took the coffees back to bed, handing one to kate who had put some clothes on. she thanked you, taking a sip.

ellie 👽

10:14am

i can come over at 3?

you

10:15am

yeah sounds good, see you later

you saw her like your message before you put your phone down, taking a sip of coffee.

“what time are you working again?” you asked kate.

“12, so need to get ready soon,” she drew small, lazy circles on your bare thigh as you sat cross legged next to her. “you doing much today?”

“i’m gonna go home and tidy up a bit, then ellie’s coming over. there’s a band playing at hazy tonight so we thought we’d go.”

“oh nice, sounds like a good day,” she said, smiling at you.

you finished your coffees and you scrolled through tiktok as you watched kate get ready for work, before eventually getting ready to leave yourself.

“text me when you get home, love you,” she said, giving you a quick kiss before getting into her car.

“i will, love you.” you waved bye and put your headphones in to walk home. it was about a 20 minute walk but you liked walking, it was a good opportunity to listen to music and daydream.

once home, you quickly messaged kate that you were home safe and then sighed as you dropped your bag onto your bed, taking in the mess you’d made last night.

“fuck sake,” you mumbled, starting to lazily fold everything up and put it away. throwing a few things in a haphazard pile to go in the laundry. after that was done you took a shower and put on some fresh clothes. you didn’t even realise the time when your apartment intercom buzzed. you heard ellie’s voice say “hey, it’s me” before you buzzed her in. you opened the door before she could even knock.

“hey.”

“hey, i brought some food if you’re hungry,” she said, dumping the shopping bag on your kitchen counter. it looked like it had your favourite crisps/chips, some salsa, some strawberries, bottles of coke and a couple other snacks.

“oh thanks,” you smiled. she was wearing a t-shirt underneath a button up shirt with the sleeves pushed up, exposing her tattooed forearms.

you got out a couple of plates and started emptying the snacks onto them. ellie leaned on the counter, watching you until you handed one to her.

“thanks.”

you both sat on the sofa, your legs bumping into each other and you subconsciously moved over slightly so you weren’t touching. it felt like you shouldn’t really be sat that close, even though it wasn’t a big deal. out the corner of your eye you couldn’t tell if you could see a small smirk on her face or not.

you put on a random true crime documentary you’d been watching whilst you ate, even though you were barely listening to it as you talked.

“–it was fucking hilarious,” ellie laughed hard, her head going back, as she recounted when you had massively embarrassed yourself in a karaoke incident last week with dina when the three of you had gone out.

“god it was so embarrassing,” you held your head in your hands, laughing but your cheeks had heated up with the flashbacks.

“that was probably one of the drunkest i’ve ever seen you, and i’ve seen that a lot,” she grinned at you, getting a kick out of how flustered you were.

“fuck you, stop,” you giggled, playfully shoving her. her hand instinctively flying up to yours, grazing it before you took it back. you both just looked at each other for a moment, still smiling at the memory.

“you wanna carry on playing that video game?” she asked. you said yes and took the plates to the kitchen whilst she set it up on your tv. video games were one of the things you and ellie had first bonded over when you met and you’d always played them together ever since. you both had intense game rage so pretty much no matter what game you were playing, whether it was a horror game or a fucking gardening simulator, you’d both always be yelling out curses and generally just being loud. you obviously played a lot of multiplayer games, but sometimes you’d play singer player games and just watched each other.

you also both accidentally became very touchy. as in you’d be sat close enough together that your thighs touched. this was just so that you could both see the screen clearly. obviously. you’d be able to shove each other with your shoulders constantly, or if there was a jumpscare you’d scream and your hands would rush to grab each other. you didn’t mind. it had always been this way between you.

you played the game for a couple hours, becoming entirely engrossed in it. it was called it takes two and essentially, it was about two parents getting a divorce and after they tell their daughter, she plays with two dolls who look like her parents and pretend they’re not splitting up. the parents then turn into these tiny dolls and they have to put their differences aside in order to work together to get back to normal. it was hilarious and frustrating.

“what the fuck are you doing!?” ellie yelled.

“i’m trying to jump onto this thing.”

“no no you need to pull that lever first.”

“i fucking did!”

“well i can’t fucking move so you need to push it the other way.”

“you’re the one who told me to do it this way!”

“no i didn’t!”

“ellie… yes you did!”

she snickered at you. “whatever, just move it again.”

“my god, so bossy,” you muttered under your breath, jokingly.

“what was that?” she joked, nudging your arm, pretending she didn’t hear you.

“i said,” you looked at her, “you’re being bossy.”

your eyes were playful and the corners of her mouth fought against a wide smile. it took her brain a second to register a response. she looked back at the screen, and shook her head, not being able to come up with anything clever.

“just fucking do it.”

you smirked to yourself for winning that mini dispute, but did what she said and pushed the lever the other way so her character could move. you played for a while longer before you paused and checked the time.

“i need to get ready.”

“okay, we should probably order some food, what do you feel like?”

“pizza?” you said, heading towards your bedroom, ellie absentmindedly following you as you talked.

“cool, i’ll order some.”

“thanks, i’ll transfer you half of whatever it is.”

“no you don’t need to,” she said, leaning against your bedroom door frame as you raided through a draw.

“you never let me pay,” you huffed.

she just laughed, watching you faff around your room. eventually, you picked out a different top, not bothering to change your jeans. ellie was still leaning on the door frame, but was looking at her phone.

you ripped your top off, leaving you in just a bra and you applied some more deodorant. you didn’t really think much about changing in front of ellie, you’d known each other long enough that you’d both done it before. you probably wouldn’t if you were getting completely undressed, but it was just your top. besides, she probably wasn’t even paying attention. you didn’t notice her sneaking a quick glance at the line going down the middle of your back. you put the new top on and grabbed your makeup bag.

“how long does it say the pizzas gonna be?” you asked. ellie moved to sit on the end of your bed, leaning back until she was supporting her weight on her forearm, her knees dangling off the edge.

“about 10 minutes.”

“cool.”

she watched as you put make up on. silently admiring how much care you took with each step. you were sat on the floor with your back to her but caught her eye in the mirror. it made you a bit nervous for some reason.

“what are you doing?” you laughed.

“watching how the fuck you do all of that,” she mused.

“it’s not that hard, i pretty much just do the same look every single time anyway,” you said, patting blush on your cheeks with your fingertips.

“it’s still fun to watch,” ellie said, pulling out her phone again. when the pizza arrived, she answered the door for them. you ate, finished spritzing yourself with perfume and pulled your converses on.

“let’s go.”

˚ · • . ° .

you arrived at hazy about 10 minutes before the band were due to start playing. you could see them in the corner, finalising their set up. it was busy inside and ellie put her hand on your lower back to guide you through the crowd towards the bar.

“hey guys,” nadine, the girl behind the bar greeted you both. as you and ellie came here a lot, they all knew you. “what can i get for you?”

ellie looked at you and gestured for you to order first.

“i’ll have a corona, please,” you said and ellie said she’d have the same, whilst reaching into her back pocket to get her card out.

“no, els, i’m paying,” you grabbed her hand tightly to stop her and quickly tapped your card on the machine. nadine chuckled to herself and handed you both your drinks.

ellie laughed and rolled her eyes at you as you weaved your way through the crowd to a free table near where the band were just starting to introduce their first song.

you both sipped your drinks and watched them perform, subtly swaying a little to the beat in your chair.

“they’re really good,” ellie leant over to say in your ear, you could hardly hear each other otherwise.

“yeah, really good.”

after a couple more songs had been played you got up to go the bathroom. on your way back you got some more beers.

“thanks babe,” ellie said as you placed one in front of her. she didn’t do it a lot, but she’d always occasionally called you babe. you were sure it was just a flippant nickname but you couldn’t help but enjoy it every time.

˚ · • . ° .

it was well into the night now and you were both drunk and dancing, along with most of the people in here. ellie wasn’t much of a dancer but she had no problem holding your waist as you swayed to the music and holding your hand when you laughed and span around, accidentally falling into her. your free hand landing on her shoulder to steady yourself and she laughed at your clumsiness.

it took you a minute to realise how close you had gotten, bodies practically against each other, but you made an attempt to compose yourself.

“you okay?” she asked. her hand felt hot on your waist.

“yeah,” you leaned in closer to her ear so she could hear you, “i’m just gonna go to the bathroom.”

she let you go as you stumbled through the dancing bodies. after peeing, you washed your hands and leant on the sink, staring at yourself in the mirror. you were having a fun night with ellie as always but you were also aware that you were getting to that flirty stage of being drunk so you silently ordered yourself to pull yourself together before exiting the bathroom.

you could see a girl talking to ellie. she’s pretty, you thought. you slowly made your way over there, not wanting to interrupt but also not wanting to be suddenly left alone. as you got closer you could see the girl’s face drop and she left.

“who was that?” you asked, taking your drink back from ellie.

“just a girl asking for my number.”

“oh yeah? did you give it to her?”

“no,” she said, and you could’ve sworn you saw a hint of embarrassment flash through her eyes.

“why not?”

“i didn’t want it.”

“but she’s cute?”

“yeah, well. i’m here with you so,” she smiled at you, licking her lips and tilting her head slightly.

you tried and failed to stop yourself from smiling so wide. “you’re such a loser, ellie.”

˚ · • . ° .

you stumbled home with ellie after you’d offered for her to crash on your sofa. you hauled a spare duvet out from a cupboard and laid it on the sofa for her. she flopped down, lying on her back, mumbling out a thanks. you were going to take a glass of water to bed with you so you poured her one as well, spilling it slightly as you put it down on the floor next to her.

“oh fuck,” you giggled, “never mind.”

“thanks,” she said, looking up at you. you smiled before shuffling off to bed.

you heard her call out, “night babe.”

you yelled a “night” back and flung yourself onto your bed, making feeble attempts to remove your makeup before stripping off and slipping under the covers.

♡♡♡♡♡♡

an: so as i said before, this will probably have multiple parts, i hope you enjoyed part one! also, i’m from the uk so if any info about travelling around the us is wrong, my bad, and hazy is a made up bar so if that’s a real place, that’s purely a coincidence and it’s not based on it. anyway, let me know what you think of this so far, i’m really excited for it💜💜

#spaceshipellie fics #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fic #ellie x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams angst #ellie williams x you #ellie tlou #tlou 2 #ellie imagine #ellie williams blurb #friends to lovers #best friends to lovers

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moonstruckme · 10 months ago

Note

Hey!! I’ve spent most of my day catching up on my reading goal for the year, on your blog. I love your writing!! I wanted to know if you could write something poly!marauders where the reader comes home from work early due to chronic pain (winter weather sucks sometimes), and the boys take care of them? Pls add your own spin however you see fit! Hope your day is going well! :)

And happy holidays!

Thanks so much lovely, you're too sweet <3

modern au

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

“Breathe, angel,” James reminds you, eyeing you worriedly as he sinks into downward dog. “Deep breaths.”

“I’m breathing,” you sigh, following him down. The movement, the stress it puts on your legs and back, aches, but you feel better than you had when you’d come home.

You weren’t expecting James to be here (he typically likes to get out of the house on his days off, too energetic and cabin-fever-prone to stay in) but he hasn’t let you have even a moment of peace since you’d come in the door, unannounced and several hours from the end of your workday. He’d first tried to get you to go on a walk, but the frigid weather outside is what had doomed you in the first place so he’d settled for pulling up a short, low-intensity yoga video on his laptop.

A small part of you resents him for it, just a little. The smarter part of you is grateful.

“Just a bit longer,” James says, likely sensing your growing discontent. “After this we can get you a warm bath. Or a massage, if you like.”

You hum a weary thanks. Either of those sound great, but a nap would be spectacular. You want to evanesce. Sink into a sleep beyond pain.

The serene voice on James’ laptop guides you into a cat-cow pose, but you’re only starting your first cat when you hear the click of the door opening. You turn to James in confusion. He won’t quite look at you.

You recognize the loud clunking sound of Sirius kicking off his shoes a moment before he comes into view.

“Ooh, yoga.” He’s smiling, but there’s a watchful quality to his gaze as he drapes himself across the sofa. “Mind an audience?”

You shoot James an accusatory look. “Why’d you call him?”

“Excuse me,” Sirius says, reclaiming your attention. “Do you not want me here?”

You give up on the yoga, sitting on your mat. “I don’t want you to have to leave work,” you say quietly.

Sirius tsks, sliding off the couch and moving closer to you. “I couldn’t have been productive while I was worried about you anyways. Figured I’d save my boss the money.” His smile slips, a tiny pucker appearing between his brows. “You alright for a hug?”

You answer by opening your arms, and he gathers you up. He doesn’t squeeze the way he normally might, hands careful on your back, but it’s still nice.

“How bad is it?” he asks, turning his face to mush the words lovingly into the side of your head.

“Not bad,” you murmur.

“I’d say it’s pretty bad,” James contends gently, “if you had to come home from work.”

You turn your head to look at him, offering a sheepish shrug. “The yoga helped some.”

James’ smile is lopsided, eyes flickering with relief behind his glasses. Sirius isn’t so easily convinced, loosening his grip on you so he can see your face. Despite how used to it you should be, it’s still an effort not to shrink under that gaze. You’re not sure what he’s looking for, if he finds it or he doesn’t, but a few moments later Sirius’ hands slide up to your face. He kisses the skin next to your nose lightly.

“Let me make you some tea, sweet girl,” he says, standing. “You’ve had pain meds already, yeah?”

You hum that you have, and James says after him, “Not the chamomile, it’ll just make her sleepy.”

You try not to sulk as Sirius calls back, “I’m not new here, Potter.”

James is trying to get you back into the yoga when the door opens a second time. If you hadn’t gotten there by process of elimination, the soft, considerate footfalls would have let you know who it was.

“Oh, hi,” Remus says when he finds you and James already waiting for him. Pity softens his expression as his eyes fall on you. “How are you, dove? Is the yoga helping?”

“It was,” James grouses, though his little smile lets you both know he’s only teasing. He extends his arms out in front of him, beckoning with his hands. “Come here, give us a hug. She got to go first last time.”

Remus doesn’t put up any argument. James stands as he comes forward, weaving one arm over Remus’ shoulders and the other under.

“I am ailing,” you point out. When Remus angles his head on James’ shoulder to give you a concerned look, you add softly, “Not terribly, though.”

Remus chuckles, pushing a spindly hand slowly up and down James’ spine. The other cups the back of his boyfriend’s head, sinking into his plush nap of curls. “I think you’ve worried him down to the bone,” he observes.

There’s a noncommittal hum, followed by a muffled smacking sound as James kisses Remus’ shoulder.

“Have you considered that I’m just soaking up all the hug I can get?”

“Nefarious,” Remus murmurs lovingly.

“I leave the room for two seconds, and of course a lovefest commences.” Sirius strides in with a steaming cup of tea. “It should be outlawed. I feel swindled and scorned.”

“You got to go first,” James argues, but Remus extricates himself from his hold anyway, folding a leg under himself to sit on the couch.

“Irrelevant.” Sirius sets your tea down on the coffee tables, using his free hand to wave James off. “Do either of you want tea?”

“No thank you,” Remus says while James shakes his head. “You didn’t give her chamomile, did you? Because that will only—”

“No,” you all say, you rather mopily.

You scoot towards the table and reach for your tea. Sirius settles into the couch, leaning his back against Remus’ side.

“Alright,” James relents, shutting his laptop, “we can call it quits on the yoga. We were basically at the end of the video anyway.” His big hand lands on your shoulder, squeezing gently. “Want one of us to get a bath ready for you, lovie?”

A whole new ache starts up, right in the center of your chest. You set your tea back on the coffee table, too hot to drink, and lean your head on James’ shoulder. Your throat clogs slightly. So, so sweet to you. A bath does sound nice, but you’re not sure you can commit to it. That’s at least a half hour between you and sleep.

“Thank you,” you say, making sure he hears the sincerity in the words, “but I think I just want to go to bed.”

James’ sigh is so soft you think you’re not meant to hear it. “It’s a bit early for that yet,” he says, thumb swiping back and forth on your shoulder. “How about a massage?”

“I’m tired,” you complain, and you try not to whine but a bit of it comes through anyway.

“I know, love,” Remus says, leaning his elbows onto his knees so that his face is nearly level with yours, “but if you nap now you won’t be able to sleep tonight, and then you’ll be tired all over again tomorrow.” He reaches across the coffee table, the tips of his fingers brushing yours. “This is to help you, I promise.”

You let your little sigh fan cool air over your tea, raising it again to your lips as you nod.

“Go for the massage,” Sirius says. He raises his eyebrows at you, grinning like he’s letting you in on some sort of secret. “Trust me, babe. Jamie missed his calling with that one. Hands of an angel.”

You look over, and James is grinning so hugely you wonder if his ears pop. “Alright, fine.” He shrugs, feigning reluctance. “After I’m done with her, you can have next turn.”

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hyperfixat · 11 months ago

Text

MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS!! here’s the first chapter to a new multi part series i’m working on! it’s an isekai of honkai star rail. (sahsrau, sort of…?) ANYWAY!! enjoy,,, updates will be. idk maybe once a month so i don’t get stressed about pumping out chapters… this baby has been baking for a few months in the drafts already LMAO. likes and reblogs are always appreciated <3 and my reqs are perpetually open! 4.1K words.

next >

** Written PRE 1.4 – Any mentions of new characters is pure speculation and or headcannons.

Your dailys are finished and there’s no new content, so you decide to look for some hidden quests throughout the map. You’re sure you’ve collected all the chests on the Herta Space Station, but you use a teleport waypoint there anyway. Caelus (although that is not what you have named them,) sprints under your control, running against the invisible wall separating available land from unavailable land.

You click aimlessly, your character summoning their weapon of choice, a bat in this case, and attacking the blank divider. They hit it a few times, the animation sparking as they attacked the blank. It’s not like you’re expecting something to happen, although a person can hope, but then something does happen.

The office around you, where you’re playing on your PC blurs. You attempt to clear your vision with a few harsh blinks, but your vision only gets worse. It’s golden tunnel vision to your computer screen, the Trailblazer isn’t there, oddly enough, but that doesn’t quite matter at the moment, as you feel the world around you warp. Your body and soul, something you weren't even aware of, are pulled, nay sucked, into your screen. The screen, something that should be impermeable, gives way like nothing, like air.

Something as large as the human body should not be able to fit through your screen, but you do. Somehow you do.

It’s warm and hot and cold and freeing as it is oppressive.

You’re disoriented and confused, and for some reason you know you’re no longer alone and in your office.

Tentatively you allow yourself to move and lift your head. Instead of being seated on your desk chair, you’ve fallen into a heap in… is this one of the rooms in the Supply Zone? That.. that cannot be right. That’s in a video game and this is real life.

…Right?

What are you thinking about?! Of course this is real life, just a dream, yes, a dream. What are they called, lucid dreams? That makes sense, you’re lucid dreaming, even if you’ve never had one before, you’re lucid dreaming.

Well if you’re lucid dreaming, maybe you can have some fun? What do you do?

Fuck, you aren’t prepared for this.

Before you can think of something good someone moseys into the modern-style storage room you're in. Oh, hey, it’s the main character of Honkai: Star Rail, the game you were playing before falling into this lucid state. You want to greet them; you should greet them.

Wait, do you call them Caelus or the name you put into the game? Ah, wait, can you pause this?

“Huh? What are you doing in here?” Their voice sounds… well just like it does in game.

You hesitate, unsure of how to answer because you don’t know what you’re doing here. They wait for a reply, head tilting cutely as you think of a comprehensible answer.

“I’m… not sure.” You draw out the sentence as if by prolonging the words a better answer would appear.

Caelus walks closer to you, moving from the doorway to stand only a foot away holding out their hand to help you up.

“Are you lost? What part of the base are you stationed at? I know this place really well, I can help you find where you belong.” The confidence in their voice wanes, “Well, by your clothes…” their brow creases “are you from here?”

“Uh, I don’t, I don't know.”

They purse their lips, head tilting as they think. “Well, I don’t know who I should bring you to. You’re not a threat, at least not yet. Herta would be my first guess, but I don’t like her, and she might not even care or respond.” Another moment as they ponder, “let’s go find Mr Yang. He might be able to help jog your memory, or find out where you’re supposed to be.”

“Okay.” The walk through the station feels like a fever dream, though this is a dream, so that makes sense.

Caelus pulls open the heavy metal door to the Astral Express and holds out a hand to help you climb up inside. They don’t let go of your hand as you enter the passenger cabin.

“Mr Yang?” They call out, fingers readjusting over your own. Their hand is cool and comforting, realistic for a dream.

Welt Yang, sitting on the red curving couch looks up, setting down his book. His eyebrows raise when he sees that Caelus is not alone and is towing along a strange person dressed in even stranger clothes.

“Yes, Caelus? What do you need?” His eyes flicker between your faces before settling on Caelus’.

“This person, ah what’s your name?” They flush a pretty pink and turn to you, fingers flexing nervously around yours. When you give it to them, they repeat it aloud to Welt. “Is lost. How do we help them?”

Welt Yang frowns, a crease denting his forehead and he adjusts his glasses, pushing them up the bridge of his nose as he gives a low, thoughtful hum.

“What did Madam Herta say? You found them on her vessel.” Caleus rubs the back of their neck, a pink falling over his cheeks and tinting his ears.

“Well, I was hoping to avoid taking them to her…”

Welt doesn’t react, as if already knowing the answer. “Well,” his amber eyes meet yours. “What do you say to staying on the Astral Express for the time being? Of course, we’ll have to check with the conductor to make sure that’s okay.”

Caelus nods, their eyes narrowing as they think. “Do you think Ms Himeko might have an idea of how to jog their memory?” Their body shifts towards you as do their eyes, “in any case, we should find Pompom first, that’s the conductor.”

You want to say you know exactly who Pompom is, but that would sound odd from what should be a stranger, wouldn’t it?

Speak of the devil, Pompom comes waddling their body over to your gaggle. They aren’t as small as the game made them seem, maybe four feet of smooth fluff, and a content face.

“Hi Trailblazer, hi Welt, hi… Hi.” They pause and look up into your face, their features contorting, before they accuse you. “You aren’t a passenger!”

“Oh.” You don’t really know how to respond to that. Aside from acknowledging the obvious, they haven’t given you anything worthwhile to say. Before the silence can become too suffocating Caelus comes to the rescue, saving you from the critical look of the conductor.

“About that!” They give the creature a charming smile, putting their body between yours and theirs. “I was hoping my new friend could stay on the express until they can remember where their home is.”

So that’s why you’re staying, well staying til you wake, maybe wake. Fuck, you need a minute, well maybe once it settles in and you realize that you can’t escape, and don’t know how or why you’re here. Oh, you hope this is just a sleep deprived, very immersive deep sleep.

“Hmm,” Pompom shoves past Caelus’ legs to size you up. Their large, animal eyes make you melt, and you offer them a shy, nervous smile. “We’re out of rooms, but,” they turn back to Caelus, “if you or another passenger are willing to share, Pompom guesses they can stay.”

“Thank you, Pompom,” your smile widens a bit more. “But, maybe I shouldn’t be so quick to say that. I don’t know if anyone would want to share a room with me.” A breathy, panicky laugh leaves you, “I am a stranger here, after all.”

Pompom gives you one last, long look before shuffling away back to their rounds of the train.

“Hm, well, I understand where you’re coming from. But,” Caelus frowns and their eyes darken, going downcast, nervously. “I feel oddly connected to you. There’s more than one reason I didn’t take you to Madam Herta. I was hoping you might be able to stay on the Express, at least for a bit. So I could get to know you, a bit.” As your expression remains impassive, they’re quick to continue, taking hold of both of your hands. Their hands are large and warm, engulfing yours earnestly. “Please don’t get the wrong idea. I am trying to help you, however I can. Which is why I want to extend an invitation for you to stay with me, in my room.”

“Thank you, Caelus.” Warmth fills both your heart and face, both from the words and their touch alike. “I know you’re trying to help me, I truly appreciate it.”

They’re being so genuine, it makes you want to cry. How can you tell them this is all a dream, your dream at that. They aren’t even real, for crying out loud! The way they treat you makes you never want to wake up, stay so they can care for you, spend time with you. Would it be selfish to want to stay, to never leave, what would happen to your life if you never woke up, never left this dream (game, whatever it is now)?

You have the sudden urge to harm yourself, just for the sake of proving if this reality is just a dream or if some spatial temporal nonsense happened for you to get sucked into your PC’s game, turned real world.

The time you spend worrying cuts short when March 7th’s cheerful voice calls into the express. You hadn’t even noticed the metal screaming of the door as it was pried open.

“Caelus~ Help me convince Dan Heng to let us go back to the Xianzhou Luofu for some Berrypheasant Skewers and Immortal’s Delight- oh!” She’s spotted you. Her face lights up, an odd reaction, you think, upon seeing a stranger in what is essentially her home. “Hi there!”

“Hi,” you greet meekly, not used to being around someone so high energy. Not that you don’t like it, on the contrary she’s a very gregarious person, and the energy she brings makes you feel content.

“Caelus didn’t tell me they brought a guest!” March giggles. “It’s nice to see you, have we met before? I’d hate to think I’d forgotten your face.”

“No, you haven’t met me before.” It’s not a lie, you craft your words carefully. You know her though, very well, at that.

“Oh, well you can call me March 7th! What’s your name?” She fully enters the compartment now, the heavy train door slamming loudly behind her. She’s really pretty and cute in person, you wish that your mind could come up with any better words to describe her, but your mouth feels more than a little dry as she gets closer to you. You tell her, words sounding like mush, but she smiles and repeats it back to you, giving it a compliment.

She makes your heart stutter, and you smile at her, a little dumbly. Luckily Caelus seems sympathetic to your plight (going dumb at the sight of a pretty girl) and takes over explaining why you’re here.

“Memory loss, huh?” March pulls a sympathetic face. “I can relate. Well, you seem like a lovely person, and a friend of Caelus is a friend of mine, so my door is always open if you need to talk.”

Your deceit feels harsh, because you don’t have memory loss. Now March might try to bond over this perceived shared trauma, one that you don’t have…

March pats your shoulder in an attempt to soothe, a rush of her scent (solidifying this is more than a dream) fills your nose, fresh, clean, and sweet.

“Thank you, March, I appreciate it.”

“Anything for a friend!” March turns to Caelus, who lets your hands go as March engages them in a conversation. “Now, Caelus, help me convince Dan Heng to vote for Xianzhou Luofu on this week’s stop! I really want some of the local food.” She exaggerates the ‘really’ dramatically, making her eyes wider; the epitome of puppy dog style begging.

“Ah,” Caelus turns their head away, squeezing their eyes shut. “I already was planning on voting for Jarilo VI, and I’m pretty sure Dan Heng is dead set on his vote for another week at the space station.”

March sighs in disappointment, eyeing Welt as her next target before, “Wait! You’re officially a passenger now!” She is talking to you, “won’t you please vote for the Xianzhou Luofu as this week’s destination?”

The Xianzhou Luofu, you think about it. They don’t know that you know the place like the back of your hand, but it’s not like you have anything against the place. In fact, you’d rather not face the harsh cold of Jarilo VI so new to this world.

Oh, you shouldn’t have thought about that right now, the fact you’re stuck here for who knows how long, and you’re passively deceiving everyone you meet. Your knees feel a bit weak, but you manage to force an agreeable response to March.

“I’m feeling a bit tired, Caelus,” you grab their forearm to steady, “could I have a moment to lay down?”

“Oh shit,” they steady you, leading you to the couch, and helping you lay diagonally. Your eyes slip closed. Not caring about what you make yourself look like, you turn your face into the back cushion, tightening the harshness of how tight your eyes are closed.

Are you really stuck here? Is this more than a dream? Without fully realizing it, you drag your blunt nails over the length of your forearm. A soft, trembling gasp disguises the hiss of pain you make. Not a dream.

Fuck, not a dream.

You push your face deeper into the cushion, inhaling the scent of dust and fabric. The sensory input makes you even more certain this isn’t a dream. How do you go back to your world? Are you a missing person yet? What harm will come if you stay here, both to this world and your world? Do you tell them the truth?

How earth-shattering would it be to find out that your whole life is nothing but code? You are but a character built to entertain millions, any sense of individuality and personhood would surely fade. You can’t do that to them, can you?

But maybe it would help you get back to where you belong…

It hits you then, Welt Yang. Well, he doesn’t hit you. He’s still reading his book on the couch opposite to you. You’re no lore expert on any Honkai game except Star Rail, but he’s from like, another world as well, or something like that, right? Sure that world is another video game, probably, but alternate dimensions are alternate dimensions, right?

How would that conversation start? Hey Mr Yang, you’re a video game character and I’m from a different world, teehee can you help me figure out what the fuck I’m supposed to do now? Would he even believe you? Would you even believe you?

A warm hand rubs over your upper back, along your shoulder blades and vertebrae. Caelus, your heart stutters, a funny thing, at how you already know how much you’ll miss them.

“Do you want to use one of my Life Transmitters or a Healing Spray?” They offer their voice, kind and calm. “Or would something like Comfort Food be more to your taste right now?”

You move your face out of the cushion, “thank you, Caelus, you’re too kind. I’ll be okay, just… thinking.” Thinking of how this shouldn’t be real, how you’re too good to be real.

“Of course, let me know if you need anything. Anything at all, no matter how small.”

Caelus eventually left with March to pester Dan Heng, leaving you to revel in your confusing thoughts. After a few more minutes of lying on the couch, you steel yourself to face Welt Yang.

Thinking of his face is enough to make your hands clam up. Will he send you away and dismiss it as insane ramblings of nervous breakdown from one of Miss Herta’s overworked employees? He’ll believe you, won’t he? Surely a man of his caliber and experience can spot when someone is telling the truth, no matter how fantastical?

Pushing yourself up, you fight the tired and nerves that cling to you, and stand on unsteady legs. Welt looks up as you approach, folding the ear of the page he’s on and snapping the book shut.

“Uhm, Mr Yang, could we maybe talk in private?” Your voice sounds warbled, but if it’s more than a trick of your ears Mr Yang doesn’t let you know, instead offering you a reassuring smile and nodding.

“I will lead you to my room. No one will disrupt us there.” You’re glad he hasn’t questioned your intentions. Does he suspect you already and was unwilling to call you out openly?

Welt leads you down the sleeping cart aisle, maintaining a respectful distance from you the whole while.

He uses the handle of his cane to tap on his door handle, a jolt of pink-red magic and a click of the door’s locking mechanism and you are presented with your chance to talk to Welt Yang privately.

Welt’s eyes meet yours expectantly. You gulp.

“So. On a scale of one to one hundred how well would you react to me telling you this is a video game?” Yeah, and if this goes poorly you can pretend this was all a joke–!

Welt's previously curious harden into something more serious. “What?”

Ah fuck, nope, nevermind. “Hahaha.” It’s fake and painfully obvious to you both. “Sorry to bother you Mr Yang, I will see myself out.”

“No.” Welt positions himself between you and the exit. “Tell me.”

It’s hard not to spill the beans when those dark amber eyes bore into your very soul. And, you do.

You tell him how you got sucked through your PC and woke up in what should be simply pixels on your monitor. You tell him how you don’t know what to do and how he’s one of the only characters, well, you correct yourself, people, you thought might know how to help you.

Welt’s face is stoic and you purse your lips as your nerve filled ramble comes to an end. “How… odd.”

You’re sure it must be. Especially for him, learning he’s a game franchise’s tool, everything he’s done was all written out and predetermined by forces he has no hope to control.

Welt sits on the edge of his bed, cane used to steady himself. “I need a moment, sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, I’m the interloper here.” You kneel in front of him, trying to comfort the man in any way you can. After a brief hesitation you cover his hand with your own. Perhaps physical contact will bring some sense of consolation.

His brows are furrowed, but your touch lesses it minutely.

“Do you… want to go back?”

It’s a fair question, but you aren’t sure of the answer yourself. Because on one hand, being in this fantasy world with characters you like that treat you nicely is quite literally a dream come true, but on the other hand you have a life. Not anything important, you’re just a person. A person with friends and family and a job that all needs you.

You cannot be sure of how much time will pass before you can leave this world, universe, whatever. Is this even your real body? Is there an empty vessel sitting in your desk chair that will wither and decay while you explore the wide world of Honkai Star Rail? You are led to believe this is your real body due to the sensations that an artificial vessel wouldn’t feel.

But.

There are your favorite characters and they’re so so nice. So far.

Your inner turmoil must be showing on your face because Welt squeezes your hand, running his thumb over the back of your palm.

“I suppose a better question might be: are you comfortable staying in this world for a prolonged period of time?”

This time the answer comes easier, “yes.”

“That certainly makes things easier,” Welt relents.

“Do we tell anyone?” The question brings on another bout of quiet. You wet your lips, nerves still simmering from the confession you made.

“I think it would be best to keep it among the, how shall I phrase it, main characters?” Welt winces. “Who would they be? Me, if you know enough to confide in me, and who else?”

“Well, I don’t think you, the Express, like all the main characters, but,” you sigh, beginning to count off who you can think of. “Caelus, March, Dan Heng, you, Himeko, Sampo, Gepard, Serval, Bronya, Seele, Natasha, Luka, Blade, Kafka, Silver Wolf, Herta; maybe, Asta, Arlan, Jing Yuan, Yanqing, Jinglui, Loucha… There might be more, but they seem to be the most lore relevant and repetitive so far.”

“Yes, I imagine some conflict might crop up with that roster…” Welt thinks. The way his brow furrows and his legs spread (manspreading… drool) is subtly attractive.

Ah, the Stellaron Hunters. You can and will admit you want to see Blade and Kafka badly, but if it could result in… tension, would it be worth it in the long run? Just to satiate your thirst? They’re so imposing in the best way possible.

“Hm. Do you want to tell them?” Welt interrupts your little Kafka slash Blade slash you fantasy.

After a moment of mentally debating, you decide that, “yes, I do. All of them.”

“Very well.” Welt gives a reassuring smile, “I will support you in any path you may choose to take.” And if that didn’t make butterflies flutter all the way from the pit of your tummy up to your throat.

“If they were to ask; how am I going to prove myself? Is there something that can show I’m not from this world?” Sudden anxiety seizes you, will your favorite characters mock you? You’d die.

“There’s nothing to say they won’t believe you. You’ve convinced me after all.” It helps you stay calm, and you nod seriously. There’s another gap where neither of you speak.

“Who will we see first, do you know?”

“How about the whole Express has a meeting and we can decide from there, sound good?” Ah, that smile. A shot to the heart it is.

“Yes, thank you, Mr Yang.” Your face is hot when you say it, suddenly desperate to leave the room and cool yourself.

Oblivious to your sudden burst of attraction, Welt continues on. “Of course, always feel free to stop by my room. I’d like to extend an invitation as the others have, if you want to rest in my room, you’re welcome to.”

Rounding up the entire Astral Express doesn’t take as long as you expected it to. Himeko was in her room; and March, Caelus, and Dan Heng weren’t far from the loading deck; and Pompom is always on the Express.

“So.” You start, folding your hands together and looking at everyone around the table. They’re all watching you, and it’s really sort of scary, but you need to be brave. “I’m not from… here.”

Honestly they take the news well. Sure there were some questions, some you knew the answer to, others you are unsure of yourself.

“Is that why,” Caelus cuts themself off. “I feel drawn to you.”

“Drawn to me?” Your head tilts curiously, “could you expand on that?”

“I feel it too,” Dan Heng murmurs, eyeing Caelus. At this you lean back, furrowing your brows in thought.

“Oh?” March leans into Dan Heng’s seat. “I think I know what they’re talking about.”

“Something, emotionally, maybe, makes me want to be close with you,” Himeko speaks to you directly for the first time. “It’s like a tugging in my chest telling me to care about you.”

Ignoring the blatant rush of heat to your cheeks, Caelus expands on Himeko’s words. “Exactly. I can’t explain how or why, but I feel that you’re important, at least to me.”

Fuck, they’re going to make leaving so hard, won’t they? They can’t just say things like that.

“Oh.” Processing those words is hard.

Noting the way you’ve halted and your body language, March hovers a hand over your forearm, debating whether to touch you.

“Does that make you uncomfortable?” She asks, already sounding let down.

“No! No, not at all. It’s just.” You laugh, not out of humor or joy, but something nervous. “If you guys say things like that I’m not going to want to leave.”

“What if we don’t want you to leave?”

“I think that’s a conversation for another day, Caelus.” Welt steers the conversation back on track; what you really came to ask: “Where are we stopping first?”

next >

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