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manmuncher777 · 8 months

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How You Deserve | JOHN PRICE

words - 5k

warnings - smut, unprotected, p in v, fingering, oral fem!recieving, slight degradation, cheating?

a/n: huge thankyou so much to @sky-is-the-limit for allowing me to use her idea, it's helped kickstart my writing again on a fresh account. I do plan on writing more, definitely. I am just a very slow paced writer. But I put a lot of effort into this and hope it lived up to what you imagined. This is the idea she had.

MDNI!!!

Apartment 138 b

Your apartment. 139 b was John's.

He told you to call him John when you first met, and you couldn’t think of another name since. You had lived there for just under 5 months now and seeing your neighbour every now and then was a blessing.

God the man was attractive, you always loved an older man, and my god does he pull it off well. When you first met he offered to help you move the rest of your things, and who were you to decline such an offer, watching his muscles flex and he picked up boxes. He even told you to call if you had an issue - giving you his number for ‘emergencies’. The little graze of his hand against your made you wonder if you could use it for more than that.

And of course you did call, one day when your sink wouldn’t stop dripping. you knew just the man to call, and when he came over you made sure to take great care of him.

You may have spent the afternoon cleaning your whole apartment before getting dressed up, but not to the point where it would have been noticeable. Just enough that you hoped you might catch his attention.

“Thank you so much once again John” you said as you moved about your kitchen, past the man under your sink. Your eyes not being able to resist travelling over that part of his exposed torso as he was under you sink. His shirt riding up with every movement of his arms, just enough to tease you. You bit your lip at the sight.

“sweetheart, you don’t have to thank me so much, it’s fine honestly. I'm happy to help, gets me out of the house” he joked, tinkering about with all sorts of tools, you leaned over the counter, watching as his forearms flexed with each twist of the wrench.

Fuck... those pet names he gave you always left you fangirling. He made you blush like a little school girl.

“wow, and here’s me thinking you had a wild night life”

he chuckles as you can’t help but smile at the sound, god even his laugh was sexy, and you wish you could see the smile on his face.

“Not me, the wildest I get is staying up past 10 on a weekday.”

“I'm shocked, I thought you would be a man of the night, getting up to all kinds of mischief, bringing women home and going down to the pub.” You fake shock, secretly you were just doing this to find out more about him. Find out if he had a girlfriend that was lucky enough to have him.

“Nope” he laughed once more “no wild women of the night for me”

‘awh dammit, that’s my chance blown then”

“well I do believe in second chances love." he says after a moments silence. He gets up from under the sink, standing with you counter top in between you both. His aftershave wafting towards you with his movements, drawing you in.

"lucky me then..." You say just above a whisper as you stare up at the man in front of you. God.

What you wouldn't do to jump over the counter and drag him to bed with you, wrapping your arms over his broad shoulders and dragging your hands over his muscular back. You felt jealous of your sink pipes for a second, realising that they got to feel his hands and you didn't.

But sadly he bid you a good night, letting you know he was just a call away if you needed help with anything. You watched after him as he walked out of your door and into his own.

You planned on breaking lots of stuff around the house to get him back round.

You saw him all the time, you would sometimes go out and plan to arrive the same time that he did, you soon figured out he was some kind of military man, and watching him walk by you in his uniform was a sight to behold, you would 'accidentally' drop your keys in order to prolong the time you could see him. You would exchange pleasantries and smiles whenever you saw each other, but you always noticed his stare lingering on you, and you never minded. To be fair, you practically undressed the man with your eyes whenever he returned home in his uniform. The sound of his boots against the stairs up your complex would leave you skin tingling.

In the mornings when he was due to leave for work you would be outside if your house in skimpy nightwear, getting your mail and wishing him a good day at work.

He was convinced that he actually had a better day at work on those mornings that he saw you. God he wouldn't even let you out of the apartment looking like that, he would keep you wrapped up in his arms in bed, risking being late to work for a few more minutes. He had to practically force himself to keep walking past and not stand and stare. But you were so sweet, practically inviting him in.

You were also so pleasant to him, he remembers having to correct you every time you called him 'Mr Price' and act like it didnt turn him on. You always dressed so nicely whenever he was round, wearing tops with necklines that complimented your breasts, or tight fitting skirts. And the smell of your perfume whenever he some over is almost intoxicating, its as if you sprayed some right before he came through the door (you did).

He was tempted to break something each time he was round so he had another reason to come back, he liked having you fawn over him. Asking him about his job, making him tea, giving him cookies to take back with him. And the way you would look up at him and rub his arm as he told you to call him if there was any thing you needed. And as he looked down at you, his mind couldnt help but wander.

Holding your stare he wondered if you would keep the same eye contact with him whilst you were sucking his cock, or he imagined if those pretty eyes would screw shut if he was eating you pussy. He had to shake himself out of it, walking away with lusty eyes and pants that felt significantly tighter than before.

Now you did have a boyfriend. kind of. a weird relationship with a guy you met a few months ago, he was a friend of a friend. You didn’t mind him, he filled the void and while you felt bad that it wasn’t a true relationship, you knew he felt a similar way. You could see his eyes wander and he’s always been rather secretive. A few times you have suspected cheating, but honestly couldn’t bother yourself with the drama. You didnt love him, and he didnt love you. simple. He served a purpose, or he did. He's started to not do so well in serving that purpose recently.

So there you lay, wishing you had spent the evening calling John over to fix the shower, instead you had your boyfriend rather aggressively trying to rub your clit, and failing rather miserably.

He had never been great at sex, but as of recently you kept having to question why you would invite him round, he never got better.

"you like that? yeah? you like my huge cock. It's big right?" okay. overstatement.

He thrust in and out of you hard and fast, clearly focused on chasing his own pleasure, his average - not huge - cock was not doing much for you. "so big inside you huh?" he questioned again, his rubbing not slowing down, neither his thrusts. You let out a lacklustre moan, hoping the quiz about the size of his penis would stop. You tried to be in the moment, but it wasn't really working. He had you in missionary, he wasn't even looking at you and to be honest, you were almost bored. He wasn't here for you, he was here for himself.

It left you questioning why you even let him come over "a bit to the left" you tried to ask him, guiding his hand with your own, but he wasn't really interested. Hardly paying attention. a few seconds later his thumb moving back to where it was before. no where near you clit.

"oh fuck- gonna cum" he splutters out, pushing all his weight onto you

God why didnt you call John. Of course he was on your mind right now.

Suddenly you felt embarrassed, he could probably hear this absolute shit show. You had days where you could hear his tv through your shared wall, and you realised he could probably hear this.

That embarrassment was soon replaced with another feeling when you got a little idea in your head.

"oh FUCK" you let out a nearly pornographic moan that even had your boyfriend snapping his head to look at you. You were fully aware that your bedroom wall was the shared wall between you and John.

"that feel good, feel it deep inside you?" oh god you were encouraging him. You just hoped John could hear this, because otherwise you would be boosting your boyfriends ego for no reason.

"soo good, fuck yes. right there. oh my god" you kept on, moaning loader and louder, practically squealing and screaming. "Sooo big!" God you actually had to try not to laugh at yourself.

This clearly excited your boyfriend as his thrusts sped up even more, a few seconds later and he was cumming with a load noise. You of course pretended you had cum too, putting on your best performance yet.

"oh fuck, yes yes yes gonna cum, OH, oh fuck" you squealed. Having to slap your hand over you mouth to stop a laugh following. John couldnt have not heard that. In fact you think the whole apartment building heard it.

Your boyfriend practically crushing you under you weight now, feeling rather proud of himself. He then leaves nothing but a few minutes later, of course. Not bothering to check on you. God you really needed to break up with him.

After cleaning yourself up and getting into some comfy clothes you decided you needed some fresh air, to try and get the captain out of your mind. You swear the say he told that he was a captain you almost exploded, got to love an authority figure as well. He just kept getting better and better.

As you lean on the railing just outside your front door, you heard movement from you neighbour, and as if it was a sign from the universe to tell you that he would forever be stuck in your mind, John comes out. Rather hurriedly zipping up his coat and locking his door.

"in a rush?" you ask as you watch him, a small smile on your face as you watch him freeze at your voice. As he turns to you, you can see his pink tinted face, as you hope its because of your little act earlier.

"uh, yeah, just needed some things" he says, clearing his throat as he glances at you, not looking at you for more than a few seconds before looking away.

"hmm, have fun" you nod at him, and he rushes off. You almost giggle to yourself as you made him squirm. Your hoping that your little plan worked.

And you think it did, Johns stares at you in the hallways became more intense, and when you did get him round to fix the shower, its as if he didnt want to leave, always finding new ways to continue a conversation or different things he needed to fix. You could basically feel the tension when you two got close. You wanted him, badly.

Just to make him squirm even more, you wanted to make him snap. You needed him to react, to do something, so you tried you little boyfriend trick once more. Calling over you disappointing boyfriend, who clearly enjoyed himself more than you, and then faking it louder than before. Something truly turned you on about the fact he could hear. And minutes after it finished you boyfriend left again.

You were prancing about your apartment, rather pleased with yourself once more. I mean, maybe not pleased as you just had incredibly shit sex, but it was worth it you hoped. After a quick shower to wash the evening disappointment off of you, you chucked on some panties and an oversized shit, preparing to wrap yourself up and watch a movie of some kind. Your wet hair tickling your back as you reached to grab some fluffy socks. Then without warning your whole apartment goes dark, you body jumps slightly as you search for your drawers, finding the flashlight you keep. Great just what you needed after trying to make a bad night good.

You rush about you apartment lighting some candles in each room, but you didnt have many.

This is an emergency, you thought to yourself.

Seeing as you didnt have your phone on you, it made sense to go and knock on his door, it was the evening, but not late enough for him to be asleep. You rush to your own door, opening only to find the man you were just about to go and get. huh, maybe you summoned him or something.

"John, I was just about to come get you, is your power out as well, what did you need?" you ask, curious as to why this huge man was standing outside your door, basically blocking and of the night sky from being seen behind him.

"I'm here to finish what that stupid little boy you fuck around with cant" He says, and you can feel your insides flip at his deep voice.

"Mr price-" You start, shocked to see the burly man practically oozing with lust, his heavy breathing and unbreaking stare made you feel timid as your legs turn to jelly, taking a few steps back.

"John." he corrects, stepping forward into you dimly lit apartment "Every fucking time I see his car pull up, I have to stop myself from beating the living shit out of him. How could a man not spoil something as precious as you" He says, his huge hands now gripping at your waist, you go to speak but he cuts you off. "and don't even try and lie, I know your faking it. I know you haven't cum a single time you've been with him, but still you want to tease me, you know exactly what you've been doing to me you fucking minx"

You don't even know what to say, you've been caught red handed. You lean into his grasp on your waist, his hands feeling even better than you could have imagined.

"not so noisy now love are you?" he coos at you, he can see you resolve slowly failing as you become putty in his hands "how about this? I give us what we both want and treat you like you deserve." A small smirk resides on his face as he watches your eyes light up.

He was cocky, but you loved it.

"yes John please, I'm sorry." You practically whine at the man as he quickly shuts your door behind him, the loss of his hands feels like a sin, but soon he grabbing you by the hand and taking you to your bedroom, you chuckle internally at the fact he knows his way around you apartment so easily.

"oh no darling, I'm sorry. I should've seen what a desperate slut you were sooner." He's whispering in your ear at this point, telling you filthy things, getting you as desperate for him as he's been for you. Gently placing you down on the bed before positioning himself between you legs, kissing at your thighs "Poor thing, you've been begging for it for months now, how cruel am I for not giving it to you"

Honestly you don't know how to react. Your brain has gone to mush while this gorgeous man is muttering filth to you and he's about to eat you out, but his stare is full of innocence. Those gorgeous eyes not breaking eye contact with you, even as he kisses you over your panties. You try your best not to cry out at the sight, but that is just a promise of what is to come

"let me show you what you've been missing out on, please?" there's that fake innocence again, it may seem like he's asking you to be sure, but he already knows your answer. He just wants to hear you say it.

"Please John, I want it so bad, want you." you beg him. I t felt good to finally tell him, all of that tension finally being released. And all you saw was the cocky smirk on his face again before he was removing your panties.

"shit sweetheart, Your practically soaked and I haven't even touched you yet. Did he ever do this for you?" John asked, running a finger through you soaked folds, to be honest you didnt even know you could get this wet before the sex even started. You shook your head, of course he didn't, he never thought to be that generous.

"dickhead" you could hear price mutter to himself as he continued to tease your dripping hole with his fingers. "what a waste" Without warning he then plunges two fingers deep inside of your, letting out a low groan at how wet you are.

You couldnt help but break the shared eye contact with him as your hands gripped as you bedsheets and your eyes screwed shut. Finally you were getting what you had been deprived of for so long. His fingers starting pumping in and out of you slowly, building a consistent pace. This time, instead of forced the moans you were so used to the moan let out was completely involuntary and you hands fisted as your sheets. John cant help but let out a small chuckle at the noises you make when he finally gets his hand on you.

"shh, that's it sweetheart, just relax f'me" he rumbled as his other hand finds it way to stroking you thigh, trying to calm your tense state. Your eyes snapped open, trying to get a glimpse of John. Each thrust of his fingers sending you mind further and further into mush. Your hips chasing his ever move, bucking with every brush against your g-spot.

He looked heavenly, his face gently lighted by the candles in the room, his hair slightly out of place while his eyes focus themselves on you completely. His hands flexing with every movement he makes.

Never taking his eyes off you, he leans down, finally tasting you. His tongue licking gently stripes, collecting your wetness.

He moans at the taste, something oh so satisfying about finally getting his mouth on you. Like his dreams come true.

His thick fingers worked magic inside you as their movements never faltered. His tongue increasing in its assault of your clit, running over the bundle of nerves over and over leaving you twitching and writhing beneath him. You could already feel you orgasm approaching yet he had hardly gotten started yet. "fuck, so good" you whimpered out, and you saw the pleased look he had on his face. Your body twisted and writhed on your bed, not used to the intense pleasure you were feeling as this man carefully and skilfully worked on your pussy.

"I know, I know. Being so good for me." he whispered, and even that drew another moan out of you. It was almost overwhelming, you hadn't had someone care for your pleasure solely before, and it almost seemed as if John was getting off on it by the quite groans he was letting out himself. Waves of pleasure flowing over you, and you wouldn.t mind being drowned in this feeling as you slip further into the lust.

Your hands released their iron grip that they held on the sheets and found their way to his hair, tugging at the dark roots. This seemed only to encourage the man lapping at your cunt. He was devoted for sure. The feeling of your hands gripping his hair, letting him know that he was doing his job right.

He could sense you were already nearing your climax, he could feel you tightening around his fingers, practically sucking him back in every time he threatened to leave. His tongue sucking your clit, focusing its movements, and that mixed with an added finger and some verbal encouragement, your orgasm grew ever closer. Every breathy moan as whimper was a signal to john that he was doing a job well done, he watched your face eagerly, watching to see what had an affect on you, trying to see what you liked the most. He wanted it just as much as you did. A desperate plea for release clear within you both

"come on darling, give it to me. Good girl." he spoke lowly, watching as you tried to force you eyes open, yet failing as your orgasm took over. You stomach tightening as his fingers carefully rode you through. You could be certain you weren't faking any of those moans as you basically sung his name like a prayer. "John, fuck, fuck-oh my god". Your legs tightened around his hand as you felt like every nerve in your body was on fire. You had finally received the pleasure you had been wishing for and it left your eyes burning with tears, tears of pleasure of course.

"There you go sweetheart, you did so well f'me" He whispers as he kisses up your body, his hands tracing over your skin as if he were trying to memorise every inch of it. He almost seemed angry that your shirt served as another layer between you both as he ridded you of both his and yours, throwing them somewhere in your room. You were too far gone to notice. You chest still heaving up and down as you came down from you climax. "Thank you" was the only thing you could mutter to him and he kissed up your chest and neck, before finally kissing you on the lips. You both moaning at the sensation, at something that had been long awaited. You had found their way to the back of his neck as he kissed you hard, his lips almost punishing yours as his tongue entered your mouth. You allowed yourself to be claimed by him, having no desire for any kind of power, you were his for him to do with as he pleased.

"can you take a bit more for me sweetheart? Got to have my cock inside you” he groans lowly in your ear, the noise practically ungodly. You whine, you cant tell if its at the loss of the contact of his lips or his filthy mouth. Or maybe its the huge hand now making its way to your breasts, playing with your nipples ever so gently, making it harder for you to form words.

"oh don't tell me I've lost you already love? First time being fucked properly and your already gone." He coos at you, smirking to himself. He is rather proud of the effect he's having on you, it had gone far better than he expected. Although your previous boyfriend didnt really leave much he had to live up to.

"please John, fuck me. I need it so bad, need your cock." Your whole body was practically screaming out for more. Your mind only being able to focus on one thing as your eyes trace over the man in front of you. The buzz of your previous orgasm still on your skin leaving you craving another. You couldnt help but be selfish as this man was offering himself to you so generously.

"oh you need it darling? well in that case..." he trails off, pulling your legs open, wide enough for him to fit in between as he lines himself up at your entrance, slowly teasing you, dragging his red tip through your folds. He had enough composure to tease himself also by doing this, being almost painfully hard. You couldnt help but watch intently, almost being mesmerised by the lewd act.

He couldn't take it anymore. H e needed to be inside you, he craved it. All those times he had imagined you bent over your kitchen counter, or him dragging you back to his room to have his way with you finally coming true.

Slowly, he pressed himself inside of you, inch by inch. He wanted you to feel him, all of him. And he certainly was big. A joint moan released by the both as you as he sinks himself inside of you fully, and he stays unmoving for a moment, basking in the closeness you now both shared.

You were absolutely fucked. You couldnt keep it together. You were so full, finally so satisfied that you couldnt even think straight, all your mind was focusing on was how you stretched so well around him. It was taking everything for you not to start moving your hips or crying out for him, trying to keep your restraint as you felt practically euphoric. You felt like you had been lit on fire, your skin feeling alive with every breath he took, the slight movement inside of you.

Finally after what seemed like centuries John moves. His forehead dropping down to rest on yours as he tries to ease a slow pace, practically torturing himself.

"Holy fuck- so perfect. You feel so fucking perfect f'me sweetheart" he groans out from above you, his whole body encasing yours as his hips speed up pace.

Your hands find his back, clawing at the skin as you lay with you mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure. Your eyes fluttering shut as you try to focus on how good you are feeling right now. That is until a firm hand grasps you jaw, not enough to hurt but enough to make your eyes open.

"You keep your eyes on me, don't you dare look away. Want you to watch me as I ruin you." he whispers to you. He wouldn't be surprised if you didnt understand what he said, you were a whimpering mess. He had just asked one of the hardest things for you to do. You had to watch this man fuck the shit out of you, it was almost too much to handle.

His deep groans echoing in your room, partnered with your moans.

What you don't realise is seeing you in this way, so vulnerable is his favourite part. The sparkle in you glossed over eyes as you cant help but be trained on him, the smudged mascara framing them perfectly. You glistening with either your spit or his, either way it turns him on. You spread out so innocently before him, for him to be the one to make you feel so good, and not be able to fake it even if you tried.

his hips were punishing, every thrust now pulling a moan out of you, music to his ears he thought as he smirked down at you. how cute he thought, watching you struggle not to close your eyes an scrunch them shut at the pleasure

"Too much for you sweetheart?" he questioned mockingly, receiving only a cry in response. You clench around him, never wanting him to leave your walls. He definitely didnt want to leave them either.

His hands coming down to brace your hips, stilling you wriggling as he pounds into you, harder and faster, he wants you to be able to feel him afterwards. He doesn't want there to ever be someone that can make you feel as good as him. You clench again, and again and John ca tell your close.

"Gonna come for me again love? Come on, on my cock, there's a good girl" Jesus this man knew exactly what to say to have you screaming for him. One of his hands releasing the bruising grip it kept on you hips to rub at your puffy clit.

With your moans and the way you fit him so perfectly, He couldn't see himself lasting much longer either, his main mission is to have you cumming before him.

"come on darlin, need it. Come all over my cock" Whispering in your ear with that gorgeous voice of his as his thumb fingers rub tight circles on your clit and his huge cock is practically splitting you open has you tumbling over the edge.

"John, oh my fucking god." Every muscle in your body tensed as he made you cum once again. God it was so good, like a coil that had finally been released. At last you had finally been satisfied. Your legs wrapping around his back, trapping him in as his hips still hammered into you, leaving you shaking from sensitivity. Like a madman possessed he chased his own orgasm, watching where you both connected intently as you soaked him completely with your release.

"Fuck sweetheart, gonna ruin this perfect little pussy" He moans, his hips now faltering in their pace, stuttering as his orgasm comes close. Your overstimulated body now quivering as you do you best to clench round the man, wanting to bring him the same pleasure that he just gave you.

"please John, i want it so bad" you whisper to him, and that sends him over the edge, spilling himself inside of you, thrusting his cu deep inside of you, continuing until he couldn't anymore. His hips stilling as he finishes, before gently pulling out of you. His eyes unmoving as he watches himself seeping out of you used hole. He wanted this moment imprinted on his brain

You lay there on the bed, completely fucked out and unmoving as he goes to grab a washcloth. It saddens him slightly to clear away this mark he had left in you. But he does it either way, gently cleaning you both off.

He soon settles next to you, a content sigh leaving his mouth. "So, who was better me or your ex?" he asks, a stupid question with an obvious answer. Laughing as you slap him playfully on the arm

"Oh my ex for sure"

#captain john price #cod x reader #cod fanfic #john price x reader #john price smut #john price cod #mw2 smut #cod smut #captain john price smut #call of duty smut

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fairestwriting · 2 months

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Hello there! Love your writing! How about my sweet Savanaclaw boys finding out that their crush (or S/O) sleeps cuddling a plushie of their respective animals (like a wolf for Jack). Thanks! I love Jack so much :)

me while jumping at the opportunity of writing the man: i hate leona

Leona Kingscholar

He is canonically a very smart and perceptive guy. But somewhere in my heart I just know he wouldn't fully make the connection for a while. Just trust me on that one.

Kind of pokes fun at your "cat" plushie. What's with that thing, Herbivore? Aren't you a little too old for stuffed animals? Though he steps back if it makes you genuinely upset, which isn't what he's going for, he's just being an ass as a joke again. A part of him thinks it's really endearing, even before it really clicks for him.

He kind of feels vaguely jealous of the plushie. If you bring it while you two are sleeping together he'll pull the what do you need this thing for, I'm right here kind of shtick.

Confused on why you sleep with a plushie in the first place, more confused about why this stuffed cat looks so weird... oh, wait.

He's stupidly proud when it actually clicks. Of course he won't tell you it went over his head for the longest time, but all of a sudden, he's all smug whenever he sees you with the plushie, saying you could've just called if you missed him so much.!

Ruggie Bucchi

Takes a hot second to make the connection, but a lot less than Leona. The delay is mostly because he's never expected to see a hyena plushie of all things.

Actually loves it because it reminds him of the kids back home a little. He asks where you bought it, how much it was, tells you a little story about a kid he knew who wanted one just like that.

He won't explicitly ask to hold it but you should offer it, he loves your little buddy, he's already said you should come to him if you ever need to get a tear patched up. Doesn't even have it in him to make a joke about it being childish, at most tells you he'll keep it a secret if you look embarrassed.

When he does notice though, while poking at the plushie's little ears absentmindedly, he's the one who gets flustered. Oh no, that's really cute kind of realization.

He wants to sound cool when he says that, you know, if you want to sleep with him, you can just invite him over, but he does fail pretty hard. He can't help it, though, it's just way too endearing to him.

...Besides, he's already offered to co-parent the toy. If it doesn't have a name, it's just a matter of time before Ruggie asks and "jokingly" comes up with suggestions.

Jack Howl

Only one who thinks it might have to do something with him... but he's kind of too flustered to say anything about it for a good while.

He bashfully reassures you there's nothing wrong with keeping plushies around even if you're not a kid, maybe letting it slip that he thinks the little wolf is pretty cute... then pretending he didn't say anything.

Jack overthinks it a bit. Wolf plushies aren't that uncommon, right? You probably had it before you met him. He's too shy to ask if you had it before you met him.

He'll settle on... asking about the plushie itself. It might not have anything to do with him, but he knows pretty quickly that he wants it to. If you're not dating yet, he'll use the almighty excuse of asking about it because he needs to get his little siblings a gift.

Either way, though, the next excuse he gets, whether it's Christmas or your birthday or whatever, you find yourself with a very neatly wrapped box in your hands, and Jack nearly hiding behind it. Just saw it in a shop near home and thought you might like it, he says.

Whether your previous plushie was based on the exact same type of white wolf he is doesn't matter. If it is, it's getting a twin. You bet he scoured the shops to find it, blessing his luck on wolves being animals plenty of people love. He has a small, shy smile on his face when you take it.

if you wanna support my work, you can buy me a ko-fi or commission me!

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst imagines #twst headcanons #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #leona kingscholar #ruggie bucchi #jack howl #leona kingscholar x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #jack howl x reader #lis writing

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foxy-eva · 7 months

Text

Dancing in the Moonlight

Summary: Spencer gets creative in order to cheer up Reader

Request: could you please write about how sunshine!reader ends up having a bad day and grumpy spencer spends all day to no avail trying to cheer up the sunshine!reader. The thing that finally works is a little bit silly?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader

Category: Comfort, Fluff

Content Warning: Reader has a bad day and is upset but it's not specified why, mentions crying

Word Count: 1k

Masterlist

Just like a sunbeam sneaking through black curtains you came into Spencer's life all those months ago. He would never forget the first time he felt the heat your presence radiated, warming even the darkest corner of his heart. After those long days of fighting evil, he craved nothing more than coming home to bask in your kindness.

However, when he entered your apartment that night, Spencer immediately realized that something was different. Where he'd usually find excitement and joy, he only saw a fake smile on your face.

"What's wrong, my love?"

Spencer found his place beside you on the couch, offering to pull you right into his arms. You hesitated, afraid that his touch might break loose the tears you so desperately tried to hold back.

Instead of accepting his embrace, you just shook your head and answered, "I just had a bad day."

Spencer knew that it must have been a truly terrible day for it to take away your smile. You were the most optimistic person he had ever met, always seeing the good in everything even when he couldn't.

"I'm sorry to hear that. What can I do to make it better?"

You just shrugged and leaned back on the couch, ready to simply wait until this day would be over.

Spencer, however, decided to make it his mission to cheer you up. After giving it some thought, he realized that he had no idea how to do that, though. Usually your roles were reversed with you being the one to comfort him after a bad day. You were the one who – without fail – always managed to light up his life.

Now it was his turn to do the same for you. He just needed to figure out how.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He offered.

You shook your head while sinking back further into the couch. Spencer reached out his hand to brush over your fingertips. His touch was soothing, so you opened your palm to take his hand in yours. He moved closer to you until his shoulder touched yours.

When you locked eyes with him you managed to flash him a timid smile, not as genuine as usual but less fake than before.

"Hey," Spencer whispered.

"Hi," you breathed.

His lips found yours in a brief and innocent kiss. It wasn't enough to make up for what happened today but you appreciated his attempt to light up your inner spark again.

Spencer quickly noticed that his nearness alone wouldn't be enough to cheer you up.

"Are you hungry?" He asked. "I could make you something to eat."

"I already had dinner earlier," you declined his offer.

He got up from the couch to turn on the TV and put on your favorite show before disappearing in the kitchen for a few minutes. When he came back he handed you a mug with freshly brewed tea.

"Thank you," you said while taking the beverage. "I really appreciate it."

It was true, you did appreciate his attempts to make your day better. It didn't work though. As he sat with you to watch the show while occasionally checking your facial features, he realized that, too.

"You're still upset," he stated with a frown present on his face.

"Sorry, I–"

"Don't apologize," he interrupted you. "It's not your fault. I just hate that I have no idea how to help you. You're always there for me and know exactly what to do or say and here I am… so…lost."

"It's okay, Spencer. I'm sure it'll just pass. Tomorrow is a new day."

"No, don't you try to cheer me up!" He protested. "This is about you. I really want to make you feel better."

You turned your head to look out the window. The sun had already set, all you could find was darkness on the other side of the glass. It almost felt like a metaphor for that day, as if all you could do was to wait for the next morning to let the rising sun warm your heart again.

Spencer couldn't accept that, though, so he suggested, "We could go for a walk. Maybe the fresh air will help you clear your head."

It was worth a try. Chilly air met puffy cheeks when you stepped outside, Spencer’s hand immediately reaching out to intertwine his fingers with yours. Walking side by side, you followed his lead, unable to make a decision as to where to go yourself. Soon you stepped into a park together, noticing how a mild breeze created a rustling sound as it met leafy trees.

Tilting your head, your eyes wandered over the night sky. The moon was bright and big, almost looking unreal from your point of view. Although it was only borrowing its light from the sun, it still did its bet to illuminate your path.

Very sudden and without a warning Spencer stopped his motions to step in front of you. He softly smiled at you when he said, "Dance with me."

Those were words you never thought you'd hear from him, so you asked in disbelief, "What?"

He gently got ahold of your wrists to move them to his shoulders before he grabbed your waist.

"Dance with me," he repeated.

And so you did.

At first you just swayed from side to side, not unlike all those kitschy prom scenes in teen movies. There was no music playing but that was alright, the sound of the wind was your beat while some sleepless bird sang the harmony. When Spencer made the first step, you simply followed his motions.

It was clumsy and graceless but he didn't give up, not even when he almost fell over his own feet. The smile slowly forming on your face spurred him on to keep going despite his lack of skill. There was no holding back the laughter spilling from your lips each time your chests almost collided because you missed a step.

However, after a few moments your body moved naturally with his, almost as if you had done that a million times before. Your smile grew bigger with each spin, making you slowly forget the sorrows of the day. And although the sunrise was still many hours away, just like that your inner light began shining again.

Taglist: @nomajdetective @reidsbookclub @gspenc @samuel-de-champagne-problems @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @malindacath @reidselle @alexxavicry @frickin-bats @spencersprettyslut @sebs-oxygen @happymangospot @cynbx @melifluorei-d @hotchandspencearedilfs @emiliaserpe @thenerdthatwrites @velvetthunder93 @cncoxlifeline @saturnstringz @missabsey @guacam011y @whoopdy-doo @hugyourlungs @reiderwriter @snapeknot @enamoradax @hales-17 @cham9ions @loaksulluyswife @ecneremili @xserenax-13 @grumpyy-bearr

#spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid comfort #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds comfort #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction

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cy-cyborg · 6 months

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Disability Tropes: The Miracle Cure

The miracle cure is a trope with a pretty negative reputation in disability circles, especially online. It describes a scenario in which, a disabled character, through either magic, advanced technology, divine intervention or some combination of the three, has their disability cured throughout the course of the story. Sometimes this is literally, as in the disability is completely and entirely cured with no strings attached. Other times, it looks like giving an amputee character a prosthetic so advanced that it's basically the same as "the real thing" and that they never take off or have any issue with, or giving the character with a spinal injury an implant that bypasses the physical spine's break, or connects to an exoskeleton that allows them to walk again. Sometimes, it can even look like giving a character some kind of magic item or power that negates the effects of the disability, like what I talked about in my post about "the super-crip" trope. Either way though, the effect is the same: The disability is functionally cured and is no longer an "issue" the author or character has to worry about.

But why would this be a bad thing? In a world with magic or super-advanced tech, if you can cure a character's disability, why wouldn't you?

[ID: a screenshot of Roy mustang from Full metal alchemist Brotherhood, a white man with short black hair in a hospital gown. In the corner of the screen is the hand of another person holding a small red gemstone. /End ID]

Well there's a few reasons. First, lets talk about the purely writing related ones. If you've been around the writing or even media critique communities for a bit, you've likely heard people voicing their frustrations with tropes like "The fake-out death" where a character is either implied to have died, but comes back later, or is explicitly shown to be dead and then resurrected. Often when this happens in media, it leaves the audience feeling cheated and like a character's actions and choices don't really matter if even the worst mistakes and consequences can be undone. In the case of the latter situation, where they die and are brought back, it can make the stakes of the whole story feel a lot lower, since even something like death is shown to be reversible, so the audience doesn't really have to worry about anything bad happening to their favourite character, and once you've used this trope one time, people will constantly wonder why you wouldn't use it every time it comes up.

The same is true for "fixing" a character's disability. It sets a precedent that even things as big and life-changing as disability aren't permanent in this setting. We don't have to worry about anything major happening to the characters, there's no risks associated with their actions if it can all be undone, and it will lower the stakes of the story for your audience. Personally, I also feel like it's often used as a cop-out. Like writers wanted to include a major injury the leads to something big like disability for shock value, but weren't sure how to actually deal with it afterwards, so they just made it go away. Even in cases where the character start the story with a disability and are cured, this can still cause issues with your story's stakes, because again, once we've seen you do it once, we know its possible, so we won't feel the need to worry about anything being permanent.

Ok, so that's the purely writing related reasons, but what if that situation doesn't apply to the story you're writing? What if they're "fixed" right at the end, or the way they're cured is really rare, so it can't be used multiple times?

I'm glad you asked, because no, this is far from the only reason to avoid the trope! In my opinion, the more important reason to avoid it is because of how the a lot of the disabled community feels about the miracle cure trope, and the ideas about disability it can perpetuate if you're not very, very careful.

You might have noticed that throughout this post, I've put words like "cured" and "fixed" in quotes, and that's because not every disabled person wants a cure or feels like their ideal to strive for is able-bodied and neurotypical. For many of us, we have come to see our disabilities as part of us, as part of our identities and our sense of self, the same way I, as a queer person might see my queerness as a part of my identity. This is an especially common view among people who were born with their disability or who had them from a young age, since this is all they've ever really known, or who's disability impacts the way they think, perceive and process the world around them, how they communicate with people or in communities who have a long history of forced conformity and erasure such as the autism and deaf communities. Many disabilities have such massive impacts on our lives that we literally wouldn't be who we are today if they were taken away. So often though, when non-disabled people write disabled characters, they assume we'd all take a "cure" in a heart-beat. They assumed we all desire to be just like them again, and this simply isn't the case. Some people absolutely would, and there's nothing wrong with that, but it's not as universal as media representation makes it out to be.

Another reason it's so heavily disliked is because this trope is often used in conjunction with other ableist and harmful tropes or it's used in ways that perpetuate misinformation about living with a disability and it can have ableist implications, even if that's not what the author necessarily intended.

If the miracle cure is used right at the end of the story for example, as a way to give characters a happy ending it can imply that the only way for a disabled character to be happy in the long run, is for them to be "fixed", especially if they were miserable all the way up until that point. If it's used earlier in the story as a way to get said character back into the action, it can also be read as the author thinking that disabled people can't be of use to the plot, and so the only way to keep them around is to "fix" them.

Of course, there's also the fact that some authors and writers will also play up how bad being disabled is in order to show why a cure is justified, playing into the "sad disabled person" trope in the process, which is pretty much what it says on the tin. Don't get me wrong, this isn't to say that being disabled is all easy-breezy, there are never any hard days and you should never show your character struggling, not at all, the "sad disabled person" trope has it's place (even if I personally am not a fan on it), but when both the "sad disabled person" trope and the miracle cure trope are used together, it's not a great look.

This is especially bad when the very thing that cures the disability, or perhaps the quest the heroes need to go on to get it, is shown to be harmful to others or the disabled person themselves. Portraying living with a disability as something so bad that it justifies hurting others, putting others at risk, loosing yourself or killing yourself in order to achieve this cure perpetuates the already harmful idea that disability is a fate worse than death, and anything is justified to avoid it.

I've also noticed the reasons the authors and writers give for wanting to cure their characters are very frequently based on stereotypes, a lack of research in to the actual limits of a person's disability and a lack of understanding. One story I recall reading years ago made sure to tell you how miserable it's main character, a former cyclist, was because he'd been in a car accident where he'd lost his arm, and now couldn't ride bikes anymore, seemingly unaware of the fact arm amputees can, in fact, ride bikes. There are several whole sports centred around it, and even entire companies dedicated to making prosthetic hands specifically for riding bikes. but no, the only way for this to resolve and for him to be happy was to give him his arm back as a magical Christmas miracle! It would be one thing if the story had acknowledged that he'd tried cycling again but just had difficulties with it, or something was stopping him from being able to do it like not being able to wear the required prosthetic or something, but it really did seem as though the author was entirely unaware it was even possible, which is an issue when it's the whole point of your story existing. This happens a lot more often than you'd think, and it's very clear when an author hasn't even bothered to google search if their character would be able to do something before deciding the only solution is to take the disability away.

There's also the frustration that comes from being part of an underrepresented minority, finally seeing a character like you on screen or in a book, only for that representation to be taken away. Disabled people make up roughly 16% of the population (though many estimate these numbers are actually much higher), but only about 2.8% of American TV shows and 4.1% of Australian TV shows feature explicitly disabled characters. In 2019, around 2.3% of films featured disabled characters in a speaking roll, and while it's slowly getting better as time goes on, progress on that front is very slow, which is why its so frustrating when we do see characters like ourselves and so much of their stories focus on wishing to be, trying to become or actually being "cured".

An finally, there's the fact this is just a really common trope. Even if we ignore the issues it can cause with your story's tone and stakes, the harm it can do to the community when not handled with care, the negative perceptions it can perpetuate and everything else. It's just a plain-old overdone trope. It shows up so often that I, and a lot of disabled people, are just getting tired of seeing it. Despite everything I've said, there are valid reasons for people to not want to be disabled, and just like how I made sure to emphasise that not everyone wants a cure, it's important to recognise that not everyone would refuse it either. So long as it's not done in a way that implies it's universal, in theory, depicting someone who would want and accept a cure is totally fine. The issue is though that this trope is so common and so overdone that it's starting to feel like it's all we ever see, especially in genres like sci-fi and fantasy (and also Christmas movies for some reason).

[ID: A Gif of a white man in a top hat nodding his head with the caption "Merry Christmas" down the bottom. /end ID]

Personally, because it's so common, I find even the few examples of the trope used well frustrating, and I honestly feel that it's at the point where it should be avoided entirely where possible.

Ok but Cy, you mentioned there are ways to use this trope well, what are they?

So, like I said, I'm of the opinion that this trope is better off not being in your work at all, but if, for whatever reason, you can't avoid it, or it's use is really that important to the story you want to tell, there are less harmful ways to implement it.

Don't have your only disabled character take the cure

If you really must cure your disabled character's disability, don't make them the only disabled person in the story. Show us another character who, when offered the same cure, chooses not to take it. This at least helps push back a little against the assumption of "of course everyone would want this" that these kinds of stories often imply and doesn't contribute (as much) to disability erasure in the media.

Don't make it a total cure

In real life, there are cures for some disabilities, but they rarely leave no trace. For example, an amputee's limb can sometimes be reattached if it was severed and they received medical treatment fast enough, but it usually results in at least a little nerve damage and difficulties with muscle strength, blood flow or co-ordination in that limb. Often times, these "cures" will fix one issue, but create another. You might not be an amputee anymore, but you're still disabled, just in a different way. You can reflect this in your fictional cures to avoid it feeling like you just wanted to avoid doing the work to write good disabled representation.

Do something interesting with it

I got a comment on my old tumblr or possibly Tik Tok account ages ago talking about their planned use for the miracle cure trope, where their character accepts the cure at the cost of the things that made her life enjoyable post-disability. Prior to accepting the cure, she had found other ways to be independent to some extent and her community and friends helped her bridge the gaps, but they were all taken from her when she was "cured" forcing her into isolation. Kind of like a "be careful what you wish for" sort of thing. The story was meant to be a critique on how society ignores alternative ways of getting the same result and how conforming to other people's ideas of "normal" isn't always what you need to bring you happiness. This was a genuinely interesting way to use the trope I think, and it's a perfect example of taking this trope and twisting it to make an interesting point. If you must use a trope like this, at least use it to say something other than "disability makes me sad so I don't want to think about it too much". Alternatively, on a less serious note, I'm also not entirely opposed to the miracle cure being used for comedy if it fits the tone. The Orville has some issues with it's use of the Miracle Cure trope, but I'd be lying if I said Isaac amputating Gordan's leg as a prank, knowing it could be reversed in a few hours did get a chuckle out of me.

If your villain's motivation is finding a cure for themselves, don't use it as justification for hurting people

Disabled villains need a post all their own honestly, but when a villain's motivation for doing all the terrible things they do is so they don't have to be disabled anymore, it's especially frustrating. Doubly so if the writer's are implying that they're justified in their actions, or at least that their actions are understandable because "who would want to live like that?" Honestly, as a general rule of thumb, avoid making your villains disabled if you aren't disabled yourself (especially if they're your only disabled character), but if they are disabled, don't use the disability as a justification for them hurting people while finding a cure.

So are there any examples currently out there to look at where the trope is used, if not well, at least tolerably?

Yeah, I'd say so, but they're few and far between. Two examples come to mind for me though.

The Dragon Prince:

[ID: A Gif of Ava the Wolf from the Dragon Prince, a light brown, fluffy wolf who is missing her front right leg. /End ID]

The Dragon Prince on Netflix uses the miracle cure twice, but I still really enjoyed the show (at least I did, up until my Netflix subscription ran out, so I've only seen up to season 4). The first time the trope is used in the series, it's actually a fake-out. Two of the main characters, while looking for someone to help them heal the dragon egg they're carrying, encounter a young girl named Ellis and her pet wolf Ava. The two explain their egg is not looking good and they need to find someone to help it, but no one they've found had the knowledge or ability to do anything to help. Ellis says she knows a healer who can help them, and tells them that this healer even restored Ava's amputated leg when she was a pup. When we actually reach this "miracle healer" however, she is revealed to be simply an illusionist. She explains that Ava is still missing her leg, she simply made it look as though she had restored it because Ellis's parents were planning to throw the puppy out, believing it would not survive with its disability and would only be a drain on supplies. This was not actually true and Ava adapted to her amputation very well, she simply needed more time, and hiding her disability and making her appear abled gave her the time she needed to fully recover and adjust. When they return to the healer with the main characters, she removes the illusion and explains why she did it, emphasising that the real problem was never with Ava, but with how people made assumptions about her.

While I do feel it was drawn out a bit too long, I do appreciate the use of the trope as the set up to an overall positive twist. Disability does come with down-sides, it's part of the deal and it would have been nice to see a bit more of that, but for disabilities like amputation in particular, the worst of our problems often come from a lack of adequate support and people's pre-conceived ideas about us, and it was nice to see this reflected, even if it is a little overly simplified.

The second time this trope comes up in the series is when one of the antagonists, Soren, is injured during a fight with a dragon, becoming paralysed from the neck down. His sister, Claudia is absolutely beside herself, believing it was her fault this even happened in the first place, but Soren actually takes his new disability very, very well, explaining that he understands there are things he can't do now, but that there's a lot of things he can still try, that his previous job as a soldier just didn't allow time for. It's possible this reaction was him being in denial but it came across to me as genuine acceptance. He is adamant that he doesn't want a cure right from the beginning because he knows that a cure would come at a cost that he doesn't want his sister to pay, and that he is content and happy with this new direction his life will be going in. Claudia, however, is not content. It had been shown that she was already using dark magic, but this event is what starts her down the path of using it in earnest, disregarding the harm it will cause to those around her. She ignores Soren's wishes, kills several animals in order to fuel the healing spell that will "fix" him, and Soren is pretty clearly shown to be horrified by her actions. What I like about this use of the miracle cure trope is that it touches on something I've seen happen a lot to disabled people in real-life, but that rarely shows up in media - the fact that just because we accept ourselves, our disabilities and our new limits, doesn't mean our friends and family will, unfortunately. In my own life, my mum and dad were always accepting of my disability when I was younger, but as I got older and my support needs changed, my body took longer to heal and I stopped being able to do a lot of things I could when I was little, they had a very hard time coming to terms with it and accepting it. I'm not alone in this either, a lot of disabled people end up cutting contact with friends and family members who refuse to accept the reality of our situations and insist "if we just try harder maybe we won't be so disabled" or "Maybe you will get better if you just do [xyz]". Unfortunately however, some disable people's wishes are ignored completely, like Soren's were. You see this a lot in autistic children who's parents are so desperate to find a cure that they hurt their kids through toxic and dangerous "treatments" or by putting them through abusive therapies that do more harm than good. Claudia has good intentions, but her complete disregard for Soren's decision still harm them both in the long run, leading to the deterioration of their relationship and causing her to spiral down a very dark path.

Full Metal Alchemist: Brotherhood

[ID: A Gif of Ed from full metal alchemist, a white boy with blond hair, staring angrily at a jar of milk on the table. His brother Al, a sentiant suit of armour, is in the background looking directly at the camera. The caption, spoken by Ed, says "So we meet again you little bastard" /end ID.]

The show does begin with Ed and Al looking for a way to cure their disabilities (which they gave themselves when trying to resurrect their mother as children went horribly wrong). However, when the boys discover that the object needed to do that - a philosopher's stone, can only by made through absolutely abhorrent and despicable means, and using one, likewise, comes at the cost of potentially hundreds or thousands of people's souls, they immediately stop, and shift their focus on finding the stones that had already been made so it can't fall into the wrong hands, and preventing the creation of new ones. The core theme of the show is that everything has a cost, and sometimes the cost is simply too great.

However, right at the end of the show, several characters are healed in a variety of ways. Ed gives up his ability to do alchemy to get his brother's body back, as well as his arm so he can save his friends in the final battle, but neither of the boys come away from this completely "healed". Al's body has not been used since he was a child, and so it is shown he has experienced severe muscular atrophy that will take a long time and a lot of work to recover from, acknowledging that he has a pretty tough road ahead of him. When we see him in the epilogue, he is still on crutches despite this being several months after getting his body back. Likewise Ed is not fully healed, and is still missing one of his legs even if he got his arm back.

The more... interesting use of the trope, however, is in the form of Colonel Mustang who was blinded in the final season. Mustang is shown to take to his blindness pretty well given the circumstances, finding a variety of ways to continue doing his job and reaching his goals. When other characters offer to let him use the philosopher's stone to heal himself however, he takes it, acknowledging that this is a horrible thing to do and that Ed and Al would be extremely disappointed in him if they ever found out. He uses it both to cure his own disability, and to cure another character who was injured earlier in the show. While I'll admit, I did not like this ending, I can at least appreciate that the show made sure to emphasis that a) Mustang was doing fine without the cure, and b) that this was not morally justified. The show spent a very long time drilling into the viewer how morally reprehensible using the stone was, and it didn't try to make an exception for Mustang - you weren't supposed to like that he did that.

When I talk about these tropes, I do try to give them a fair chance and discuss the ways it can potentially work, but I really do want to reiterate that this particular trope really is best avoided. There are ways to make it work, but they will still leave a bad taste in many of your viewer's or reader's mouths and you have to be exceptionally careful with your wording and framing, not just in the scenes where this trope is used, but in the lead up. If you really must use it, I highly recommend getting a few disability sensitivity readers and/or consultants (yes, even if you are disabled yourself) to help you avoid some of the often overlooked pitfalls.

#writing disability With Cy Cyborg #very long post #I could have sworn I talked about this trope already but I couldn't find the post. Apparently I had a lot more to say anyway lol #long post #disability #Disabled #Disability representation #Physical Disability #disability Tropes #Writing #Writeblr #Authors #Disabled Rep #Writing Advice #writing Tips #Disabled Characters #writing disability

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prettybean · 5 months

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TOXIC BEHAVIOR (COD +18)

* just for fun, don’t take it too seriously 🍌

I DO NOT SUPPORT THIS KIND OF RELATIONSHIP, if you find yourself in these situations, ask for help

If these topics make you uncomfortable, please avoid reading further.

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE

Ghost

He just can't accept the fact that you ended things with him. It's been three months since the breakup, but Simon has completely lost it, especially when he found out that you're engaged again.

He keeps calling you persistently, and out of habit, you always answer. You hear him say the same old phrases: "I'm better than him" or "Come back to me, you know you can't be happy without me."

Despite the breakup, you've agreed to have sex with him several times. The way he pleases you makes your heart race faster and faster. Deep down, you know it's not fair to your new boyfriend, but when Simon touches you, you forget about everything else.

After years of being together, he knows your body inside out. He knows exactly how to make you moan, and he's not afraid to remind you of that. "I bet you don't scream like that with him." And as he says it, he fucks you like only he can.

"Do I have to kill him to win you back? You know I would." And as he says those words, he takes you to new heights of pleasure.

Soap

He has an unhealthy fixation on exerting control over you. John wants to demonstrate to others just how much you are under his command and how obediently you follow his every instruction.

"I've got something special for you," he informed you, as he fasten a collar around your neck, tightening it to the point where it became difficult to breathe. He didn't care about your discomfort; the tighter the collar, the more possession he felt over you.

"Do you like it, sweetie?" he asked, gazing at his name engraved on the collar, emphasizing how much he had invested in you. "If you ever remove it, it would truly break my heart."

You had no choice but to comply; it was the only option available to you. You kept the collar on, and he took advantage of it more and more, forcing you to go out in public with fewer and fewer clothes, showcasing you as his prized possession.

"No panties today, baby," he forcefully rip them off, leaving you to walk around without them. You belonged solely to him, and you had to face the consequences by fulfilling his every desire.

Price

His protectiveness quickly transformed into possessiveness. He never bothers to inquire about your dating life, your activities, or your whereabouts. Your outings are solely determined by his decisions.

If he doesn't suit your preferences, he might even tie you up to acknowledge his authority.

"Darling, it's all about your safety. I don't want anyone to harm you."

He accompanies you everywhere, and you must remain by his side. When you walk, he clings possessively to your arm. "Stay close to me, sweetheart."

If you attempt to engage in conversation with someone else, he tightens his grip on your waist, glaring at you. "What did I tell you?" he growls before promptly escorting you home.

Nevertheless, you adore his way of expressing love. You have always obeyed his commands because, after all, he is your boyfriend.

Gaz

You never truly loved him and he couldn't accept that fact. For months, he persistently tried to flirt with you, but you rejected him in every possible way. However, he refused to give up.

You couldn't help but notice his strange attempts to manipulate you. Strangely enough, you found yourself enjoying the attention and the way he tried to make you fall for him.

Every day, he would tell you, "You're the reason I'm so miserable, don't you see? It's all because of you." With a disappointed expression, he would repeat this over and over, gazing into your eyes.

He started writing you letters, each one becoming more explicit, expressing how he would pleasure you if only you would accept his love. He even went as far as to say he would eliminate any competition just to have you.

Slowly, you found yourself giving in to the temptation and his relentless manipulations. In the end, he succeeded in making you fall in love with him.

Graves

He's consumed by jealousy, and he doesn't even try to hide it. He repeatedly tells you how jealous he is and how wrong you are in your relationship. "If you could just stop thinking about other people, then maybe we wouldn't fight so much."

He wants to have complete control over your every move, to the point where he even took your phone to read all your messages, from the very first to the very last. If he finds anything he doesn't like, he doesn't hesitate to delete the contact of the person involved. "I'm sick of you and your damn friends."

You want to tell him that he's a psychopath and that he needs to respect your privacy, but you simply can't. He keeps blaming you, saying, "It's because of you that I'm like this."

There have been multiple instances where he's punched walls out of anger or broken your phone to cut off your contact with others.

But in the end, he always comes back to you with open arms, apologizing. And every time, you forgive him.

König

He's been tailing you nonstop. It's been ages since you two called it quits, yet every time you step out, you can't shake off the feeling of being watched.

He's always there, meticulously tracking your every move, whether you're alone or with your friends.

König watches you from a distance, careful not to get too close and blow his cover. He even went as far as snapping some pictures of you, which he proudly displayed on his wall, among others.

He used to keep you company during those long nights, lurking in your backyard, peering through your window just to catch you changing or totally naked.

You were well aware of it, and to make things easier for him, you purposely left the curtains open. König was undeniably creepy, but deep down, you still harbored a hint of affection for him.

Keegan

He’s in love with you. Keegan expresses his love through the most unexpected gestures, but only when you're alone together. When there are other people around, he transforms into the perfect gentleman - kind and flawless. Your friends have even praised you for choosing such a great guy.

But when you return home, everything changes. It's happened multiple times that he's embraced you from behind, gently caressing your hips and leaving a trail of wet kisses along your neck. You tilt your head back, giving him more space, only to feel something cold against your skin.

"The only way I can make you do what I want is by holding a knife to your throat?" he says, his words making you flinch. Every time he threatens you like this, it feels as if it's the first time.

"I know you enjoy provoking me, otherwise you wouldn't do it so often," he claims. You haven't done anything wrong, he just likes making you believe that. He enjoys seeing the fear in your eyes as he grabs your wrists and forces you to your knees.

You beg him to continue, knowing that he doesn't appreciate it when you oppose him. You have no reason to resist. He controls you, able to do whatever he pleases with you, especially when he lets the knife glide across your body.

"Tell me you'd die for me”.

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demonpiratehuntress · 5 months

Text

laugh till you cry

Pairing: Portgas D. Ace x F!Reader

Summary - this is based off the song Laugh Till You Cry by Faydee. One of his exes returns to wreak havoc on your relationship and win him back, but he's already too obsessed with you to even look her way.

Warnings - my first time writing for Ace but I absolutely adore him ❤❤

"Did anybody tell you you look better with your makeup on?

Did anybody tell you you don't matter to me anymore?

I was your joke, you were my heart

You played me well like a deck of cards

I see the tears run down your face

What, you think my mind is gonna change?

And I'm like"

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no

You're gonna have to let this go

Didn't wanna say I told you so oh oh

But someone had to let you know

And if you think your tears are gonna change my mind

I'm not gonna waste your time

I'll remind you what I told you

You'd be laughing until you cry

I told ya

You'd be laughing 'til you cry, cry back to me

You'd be laughing 'til you cry, cry back to me"

**********

You didn't know much about Ace's past relationships. He preferred to keep you in the dark about that, thinking you were better off not knowing about his ex-girlfriends. You were inclined to agree, but that just meant you weren't prepared for what would take place at this new island you stopped by.

When Ace recognised it, he froze and his eyes widened.

"Ace?" You touched his arm gently, "Is something wrong?"

He snapped out of it, turning to you with a goofy smile, "Forget about exploring, let's go back to the room and cuddle."

"I don't usually have objections to that, but I kind of wanted to look around," you pouted.

And he was sold. There were a lot of things Ace could fight and win against, but you were not one of them. He was a sucker for you, and when you pouted like that he couldn't help but give in to whatever demand you were making.

"Fine, but I'm holding you responsible for whatever happens to me," he teased, sliding his arm around your waist. If there's one thing you loved the most about him, it was his constant need to be touching you in some way.

"Fine by me," you laughed and trudged off with him.

The downside to dating Ace was that he got sidetracked VERY easily, and you only noticed he had left your side when you were trying to show him a cute necklace inside one of the stores. You panicked, but you knew where to look. Ace would only dare let you for one thing.

Food.

You went around looking through all the little restaurants and bars that the island had to offer, finding him in the third one you visited. He was practically inhaling what looked like spaghetti, but you couldn't be sure since it was disappearing into his mouth so quickly.

"Ace!"

You had just been about to call out to him when someone beat you to it, and you turned to see a young woman making her way towards him. She was beautiful. It almost intimidated you, but then you remembered who your boyfriend was, and you were fine. That is, until she sat next to him and touched his arm, leaning in close.

"What do you want?" You heard him grumble with his mouth full, something you had told him many times not to do - because it was rude. You smiled and watched the scene unfold from afar, trusting your goofy boyfriend.

Before she could even speak, though, he was fast asleep. You giggled, being used to this, as the woman stared in shock with her jaw dropped. He jerked awake minutes later, resuming his frantic spaghetti consumption.

"As I was saying," she purred, running her hand along his bicep, "You look good."

"Can't say the same about you," was his instant reply, and you had to stifle your laugh so you wouldn't be spotted. "Look (Random Name), just let it it go. You don't matter to me at all anymore."

She frowned, apparently hurt, "But what we had was so good, you can't tell me-"

"If you think I'll take you back, you must be dreaming," the dark haired 2nd Division Commander cut her off, again with a mouthful. "You're not going to change my mind."

She suddenly burst into tears, begging and pleading with him and trying to convince him she was sorry. Ace ignored her for the most part, only saying one thing to her.

"You treated me like a joke, so don't come crying back to me. Besides, I already have an awesome girlfriend."

You smiled at his words, choosing that moment to walk over and stand behind him, rubbing his bare shoulders, "There you are."

He visibly lit up at your touch, like your fingers had jolted some energy into him. Within seconds, he had you on his lap with his arms tightly wound around your waist, nuzzling his face against your neck. Completely forgetting about his ex that sat there and stared in horror.

"I think I need to get you a leash," you said teasingly, running your fingers through his hair.

He shot you a devious grin, "That wouldn't be the worst thing."

Your eyes widened, immediately picking up on the dirty thoughts behind those words, "Ace!"

He laughed and kissed your cheek, staining it with sauce from his meal. But he was smiling at you so lovingly, absolutely dazed with love and adoration for you, that you found it incredibly difficult to get mad at him.

"I love you," he kissed your cheek again, making you giggle at the sensation of the sauce coupled with his lips.

"I love you too, but at least clean up first!"

He suddenly licked your cheek clean, "Done."

Your face was so red, your cheeks burning so much that you thought you might explode. Ace was not one to shy away from PDA, even the PG18+ kind. His ex was long gone, having seen for herself that he was only interested in one person, and that was you. Anyone could see how obsessed and in love Ace was with you, and it warmed your heart to know he would unashamedly express his love no matter where you were.

"Can we go back to the ship now?" He asked, twirling a bit of your hair around his index finger.

"Fine," you gave in, smiling. "I think I've explored enough."

With that, he happily lifted you up and despite your protests that you could walk, carried you all the way back to the ship just so he could lay you on his bed and spoon you.

You decided to do it differently this time, and repositioned you both so that you were spooning him. He was about to protest, but you cut him off.

"I want to sleep like this, babe. Besides, you look cute like this." You kissed the top of his head, and he melted into your embrace. "Are you okay?"

"Mhm, you're so comfortable," was his response.

"No, I mean...after today," you spoke carefully.

He shifted his weight so he could turn to look at you, "Of course." Then he feigned confusion, "Wait...what are you talking about?"

You shook your head with a smile, "I just want to make sure you're okay. Emotionally. You know I love you more than anything, and I want to make sure you feel nothing but happiness."

His heart swelled at your words. He was truly lucky to have someone who loved him so much. He leaned in and kissed you deeply, slowly, letting his kiss convey how much your words meant to him - how much YOU meant to him.

"Are you okay?"

Your brows furrowed in confusion, "Me? I'm fine. I trust you, you know."

He offered you a lopsided grin, "Good cause you're the only one I want."

Then he smothered you with a hug, peppering your face with kisses before you could say anything else. You sighed contentedly, knowing there was no way you could ever feel jealous or insecure with this lovebug around.

#one piece #portgas d ace #portgas d ace x reader #ace x reader #ace x you #portgas d ace x you #op

453 notes · View notes

fallingdownhell · 1 year

Note

I absolutely love your works!

Can you make hurt/comfort with kazuha, albedo, alhaitham, cyno?

Where we're on a heated arguments about them too focusing on their job and completely forgot about reader

In the middle of the argument, the reader said

"Was i really nothing to you? Was i just some kind of object that you can just forget that easily?"

Thank you

Thank you so much!<3

And of course I can! I am always down to write some pretty, delicious angst!

Characters Included: Albedo; Cyno; Alhaitham; Kazuha

Content: Gender neutral reader; pre sumeru archon quest for Cyno's part; hurt/comfort; arguments; shouting; slight cursing;

Word count: 6k words

Thanks so much for the request. Hope you enjoy the end result!<3

Albedo

It was rare for Albedo to come down from his lab all the way up in Dragonspine to the City of Mondstadt. You never really minded it, knowing that you could go there to see him at any time, while he also paid regular visits to your home.

Yet, for some time now.. those visits have stopped. He never came by anymore, far too consumed on some discovery he apparently made a few weeks ago.

Even when you travelled all the way to his laboratory on the mountain, in the icy colds of Dragonspine, Albedo had given you no attention whatsoever.

He had acknowledged your arrival, then went back to his work, while you were sitting in some corner by the fire, trying to warm up again. Even your attempts at conversation were flat out ignored, seeing as he never bothered to give an answer. You weren't even sure if he had noticed your departure a few hours after you had initially arrived.

You tried again two more times, but as you got the same result every time, you eventually stopped trying and didn't go back to Dragonspine.

Then, two weeks ago, you heard that Albedo was back in the city for a supply run.

Hoping that you would run into him to finally talk to him you spend your day in Mondstadt, but you never laid eyes upon him. When you asked Sucrose about it, she told you that he had already left again.

You went home to see if he made a trip there and you just so happened to miss him. But upon your return, you didn't find any note from him or any other indication that he had ever been here in the first place.

The same thing happened again a week after that, and by now you finally had enough. You went to the Acting Grand Master and she told you that Albedo would be back today again, to drop of some reports.

Which is why you were waiting for him outside of the Knights of Favonius headquarters, though still in some respectable distance.

When you finally saw him again after a few weeks, it felt like you haven't seen him for a lifetime.

So, without hesitation, you made your way over to him before he could enter the building. Yet, he seemed to be so deep into his own head that Albedo didn't even notice your approach.

Only when you were directly behind him and firmly said "Albedo.", did he stop and turn around, looking at you.

You could see the expression in his eyes once his gaze landed on you, like he had a sudden realization that you still existed and he had forgotten about that until that very moment. It honestly hurt.

"Hey. Where have you been all this time? I missed you..", you said, hoping to get some kind of positive reaction out of him.

"You know where I was, (name). I was busy.", he said and then turned around to leave again. You were honestly astounded that he simply wanted to let things stand as they are. Well, not today and most definitely not with you.

"You wanna leave? Just like that? Seriously?"

That seemed to have at least some kind of effect on him, as he stopped once again and turned in your direction. Except for this time, he wore an annoyed expression.

"What else do you want from me? I said that I'm busy."

After that, an argument broke out between the two of you in the middle of the street, but neither of you cared. No matter how much attention you drew upon you, it was too late now. You were both to heated and too caught up in it to stop now.

Things were said in the heat of the argument, you were sure both of you regretted ever saying out loud, yet neither of you could care less right now. Everything seemed to be fair game at this point.

Until Albedo said one specific thing.

"Archons, you're impossible sometimes, (name). Insufferable. I've better things to do right now, you know!"

Immediatly after he said that, Albedo knew he had crossed a line. The way you went silent, no comeback falling from your lips. You were just staring at him in shock, like you couldn't believe that he had just actually said that. He wanted to retract his statement, but his pride prevented him from doing so.

So, instead, you both just stood there for some time, silently staring at one another. When no reply came from you, Albedo dropped his head, then turned around once again. But before he could take a step, he heard your voice again, though this time, it sounded broken, silent sobs being held back.

"So, that's it? Was I nothing to you?", you whispered, your voice slowly starting to break from the tears forming within you, but Albedo was still able to hear you. "Just some kind of experiment or plaything that you can toss aside and simply forget about? Do I mean nothing to you?"

Upon hearing how broken you sounded, and what you actually said to him, he instantly turned around again, the sight of tears rolling down your face feeling like a knive had been thrust straight into his heart. And what's worst was that he was the cause for your tears.

You stood there, waiting for an answer from him. Yet, when nothing seemed to come out off his opening and closing mouth, you just nodded at him.

"I see..", you said, your voice now entirely void of any emotion whatsoever. That, and the fact that you were the one now turning around to leave him like that, was the twist of the imaginary knive in his chest.

Finally being able to break free of his frozen state, he rushed towards you, stopping you in your tracks as he pulled you into his chest, caging your arms around you, burying his face against your shoulder.

"I'm sorry.. I'm sorry.. I'm sorry..", he whispered over and over into your ear, which only made the tears fall from your eyes even harder. You were shaking against him, struggling to breath. You wanted to break free from him, but at the same time, you never wanted to leave his embrace again.

"I'm so sorry, (name). You're wrong. You mean everything to me. I'm sorry I made you feel like that wasn't the case. And I apologize for the horrible things I said to you."

You stood there for a few more seconds, basking in his arms, then decided to slip free. Albedo let you, almost certain that you would be walking away from him now.

But you didn't.

Instead, you turned around to look at him, allowing him to see your tear stained face that he was the cause of.

"I think... we have a lot to talk about..", you mumbled, not being able to look him in the eyes entirely. But Albedo still saw it as what it was supposed to be.

A chance. A second chance to talk things out with you, make it better between you two.

And he gladly took that chance.

From now on, he would do anything to put a smile on your face every day, never wanting to be the cause for your tears ever again.

Cyno

Two months.

That was how long it has been since you had your boyfriend to yourself for more than a few hours.

Every day, he came back from his work much more later than he usually would, sometimes even not coming home for days on end. He didn't even leave a note or something to inform you of his absence, making you even more worried about him.

And now, even when he was at home with you, he was so cold and distant towards you. Sometimes, he went straight to take a shower and then to bed, not even sparing you a second. Other times, he did spend time with you, but you could tell that his mind was somewhere else, giving only short answers to your questions and statements.

Seeing all this, you couldn't help the doubt starting to well up inside you.

Did he fall out of love with you?

Did you do something wrong? Was he mad at you?

Was he... cheating on you?

You didn't want to think any of these possibilities true, but it was hard to ignore them when Cyno was behaving like this.

You tried to talk to him about this, how you felt, a few times, but he never really listened to you, keeping the conversation short so you couldn't bring your point across.

And now, you began to not only doubt him and the relationship as a whole, you doubted everything.

Did he ever even love you?

Was he only doing this out of convenience?

Were you just.. something expandable to him?

All of these questions and doubts plagued your mind day in and day out, not being able to find any answers to them whatsoever. The only one being able to give you the answers you so desperately wanted and needed, refused to give them to you.

It was driving you insane.

And now, you hit your breaking point. You weren't able to take it anymore. The constant doubt had turned itself into a depressive episode. You wanted to break free from it, but you also wanted to give Cyno one final chance. One chance to explain himself to you, to tell you the truth.

If he refused again, you would not hesitate to leave. Your mind was made up, everything was arranged. You had a small bag prepared, filled with clothing and other stuff you needed.

Tighnari had offered you to stay for a few days at Gandharva Ville where you could sort yourself out if you were not able to talk things through with Cyno. You were so grateful to him, though a small part in you still hoped that it wouldn't come down to this.

That evening, you waited and waited for Cyno to return home from work, but with every passing hour that he didn't show up, you lost more and more hope that he would come home at all today.

You sighed and were about to get up from your spot in the living room to go to bed, when the sound of the front door opening caught your attention. After all, it could only be one person that has the other key to the apartement.

"Welcome back!", you greeted him as you went out to the hallway, seeing your boyfriend standing there. He looked at you with a tired expression but didn't say anything in return.

Instead, he walked right past you, not sparing you another glance. You were baffled, to say the least. That blatant ignorance from him was what gave you the last push you had needed.

"Seriously?", you just said, turning around to face him again, this time though, wearing a stone cold expression.

"(Name), please. Not right now. I'm tired in case you didn't notice."

"Oh, I did notice. But I don't care anymore, Cyno. We have to talk."

"Please, (name). We can talk tomorrow, okay? I just want to go to bed now, not argue about something trivial."

Oh, he really dealt the final blow with that one.

"So, that's it? Do I even mean nothing to you? Was I just some kind of object you can forget about? Does this relationship even mean anything to you anymore?", you threw all of that towards him, not caring that you got more and more worked up with every word you said.

When you were met with nothing but silence from him, you took that as his answer to your questions.

"Okay..", was all you said, turning around and grabbing your packed bag before you went out the door, not even sparing Cyno one last glance. You just wanted to get out of there.

Cyno just stood there for a few minutes, still looking at the spot were you were standing before. Only now did the events catch up to his tired mind, yet he still didn't move.

He saw the defeated look on your face, the way your shoulders slumped at his dismissiveness, but he shrugged it off. Instead of running after you and trying to mend this misunderstanding, he went to the bathroom, took a shower and then made himself comfortable in the bed.

He was sure you would have returned by tomorrow and then you could talk about it.

....

Two days.

Two days have gone by and you still hadn't returned home. By this point, Cyno was beyond worried about you. After all, it was dark when you went out and he hasn't heard from you since then and no one in the city seemed to have seen you, either.

Thinking back to your last words towards him made him want to beat his past self up for not sitting down and talking to you then and there. For not running after you and bringing you back. Back to him where you belonged to.

He knew that he was neglecting you these past two months. It's not like he wanted to do so. Work has been increasing for him, the sages at the Academiya were up to something, and not of the good kind.

It put a lot of pressure on him, yet at the same time, he had to try and keep a low profile, for his sake as well as yours. But in doing so, he didn't even notice how much he had distanced himself from you. He really wanted to punch himself in the face for that, but it's not like that would bring you back to him, so he refrained from it.

He had been searching for you almost the entire day when you hadn't returned yet again. But his search seemed to not be granted success today either.

Not knowing what else to do, he decided to head over to Gandharva Ville. Maybe Tighnari would be willing to listen to him and maybe have a suggestion on how he could find you and apologize to you.

Once he arrived, he immediately made his way over to his friends hut, not caring for all the looks other people gave him. He was used to it at this point anyways.

As expected, he found Tighnari sitting at his table, scrunched over some research report. Upon his entry, his ear twitched and he looked at his friend. Cyno did find it odd however, that his friend looked at him with such a surprised expression. After all, it wasn't unusual for him to arrive unannounced.

"Cyno? What are you doing here?"

"What, can't visit a friend anymore?", he said jokingly, though it didn't sound convincing at all, judging by the look on Tighnari's face.

"You're right..", Cyno sighed instead, grabbing an empty chair and sitting beside his friend. "I need your help. It's about (name).."

"Oh, that situation? Yeah, I've heard about it from them already."

"You did? From who? And when?", Cyno asked, suddenly gaining new hope. If you were here, he might still have a chance at finding you.

"From them. I offered them a place to stay for a few days. Though after everything they told me, I didn't think you would actually search for them."

So you were here... and his best friend knew about the situation and was severly judging him. Cyno knew he deserved it, but he still wanted to try and make things right again.

"Tighnari, please tell me where they are. I need to talk to them. Please."

Tighnari looked at him long and hard, most likely trying to assess his intentions.

With a sigh, he then turned back around, focusing his attention back to his research. "I gave them the open cottage on the other side of the village. They should be in there, seeing as they haven't left it since they arrived here."

"Thanks.", Cyno mumbled, scrambling to get up from the chair to rush to where you are. He was almost out the door, when Tighnari's voice caught his attention again, calling his name.

Cyno turned around, facing his friend again. "Don't fuck it up again.", he advised, to which Cyno nodded his head. He wouldn't, he would make sure of that.

When he arrived at your temporary residence, he immediately went to knock on the door. He waited outside for a few seconds, but no reply.

So he knocked again, more urgent this time.

Still no reply.

"(Name)!", he exclaimed this time, knocking on your door again, but still to no avail.

Getting desperate, he decided to just try and see if the door was unlocked or not.

It was. The door slid open soundlessly, inviting him inside. Carefully, he walked inside, letting his eyes take in the interior. Since the door and most of the windows have been shut, it was almost dark in here, and to top it off, he didn't hear a sound.

He was almost panicing again, thinking that you might have actually left this place, until his eyes fell on the bed, and on it, he saw your sleeping figure.

Relief flooded over him, finally being able to see you again and to actually have the knowledge that you were safe and sound.

He then walked closer to you, only to take in your state. You may have looked peaceful sleeping like this, but your eyes were red and swollen, telling him that you had cried before falling asleep. And he knew that the reason for your sadness had been him.

The need to punch himself rose again, for making you feel this way when he had promised to do everything in his power to never do that.

Instead, he decided to crouch down on the floor, next to the bed, gently taking your hand into his, placing a soft kiss to the back of your hand.

He would wait here until you woke up again, no matter how many hours from now that would be. He would wait for you and ask you to please consider talking to him.

He wanted to properly explain himself and apologize to you. Whatever you decided on doing afterwards, he would comply by it. If you wanted to break up with him, he would understand that. If you decided to give him a second chance, he would thank you on his hands and knees.

But that decision would be yours to make and he was prepared to accept whatever would be thrown his way. But for now, he was content with simply holding your hand, quietly enjoying your presence which he had missed so much...

Alhaitham

The Scribe of the Academiya has been getting more and more busy these days. Well, for now, it's best to say "former" Scribe, since he has been temporarely promoted to Acting Grand Sage.

You knew that your boyfriend had absolutely zero intention of keeping that position, even if he was more than befitting for it, seeing how knowledgeable he was.

But he much rather prefered a simple life, and you couldn't argue with that logic. Who wouldn't like that, especially when pay and work hours weren't really affected either way.

Still, for now, both you and him had to live with the changed circumstances, even though neither of you were happy with them.

Alhaitham was working even more now, trying to sort out certain matters until a new Grand Sage has been chosen. You haven't really seen or talked to him in days, yet you brushed it off, telling yourself that it would change again once he got his old position back again.

Sure, he may have cancelled a few dates and had to call off a get together with your parents, but that was perfectly understandable.

You continued to give yourself excuse after excuse, hoping that soon enough, things would get back to the way they were before all of this had happened.

Couldn't take too long...right?

...

Three hours..

You had waited for him, at Puspa Café, where you were supposed to meet for your first ever date in ages again.

And he didn't show up... Again.

You wanted to give Alhaitham the benefit of the doubt, but it was getting increasingly more difficult for you.

When you got to the home you shared with him, you were greeted by an eerie silence, telling you, that he wasn't even home to begin with.

Probably still at the Academiya, working.

You sigh, adding yet another dissapointment to the list, as you went into the bathroom to get changed into more comfortable clothes. To think that you dressed up for the occaison, only to experience heartbreak again.

It's really starting to get difficult for you to forgive him for all this stuff.

....

Yet another date cancelled by him, thanks to not showing up... Again..

But this time, he didn't even come home in the evening.

It had you worried about him beyond anything, not knowing what was going on since he always came back.

You didn't sleep that night at all, only for him to angrily walk through the front door at three in the morning, mumbling something about the incompetence of the people he was forced to work with.

He only spared a glance in your direction before he went straight into the bedroom. By the time you got in there as well, he was already fast asleep in the bed. And when you woke up in the morning, he was already gone, not even leaving you with a note or anything like he usually would.

Somehow, this was your last straw.

You endured the exact same scenario so many times before. Yet, somehow, this time was just one too many times.

Next time, you promised yourself, next time you see him, you would talk to him about it, no matter if he wanted or not. Because if you didn't then there was no reason in your eyes to continue this dying relationship.

....

Turns out, the next time you would see him would once again be in the dead of the night, thanks to Alhaitham not coming home again any earlier.

When he walked through the door, he was surprised to see you still awake. Normally, you would already be asleep and he would just silently slip under the covers next to you, enjoying what little he was able to get from being close to you again gave him, before he was also knocked out cold.

But with you standing there in front of him, expression cold and hard, he knew something was up with you. And yet, he just didn't have the energy to deal with that right now. He just wanted to sleep.

"We need to talk, Alhaitham."

No greeting, no nicknames, no nothing. You were definitely upset, yet he still tried to get out off talking right now.

"Can we do this tomorrow, (name)? I'm tired."

"You mean like all the other times you promised me something and then stood me up? No, I think not. We talk about this now."

Oh, so that's what got you so upset?

"Look, I told you I would be busy for some time until things at the Academiya get sorted out. You can't tell me you didn't know about this.", he tried to reason with you, but it only seemed to upset you even more.

"You did say that.. but it's been weeks since I've last actually talked to you. It feels more like I'm your housekeeper right now, not your partner."

"This is absurd. Now you're just thinking too much into things, (name)."

After that statement, an argument broke out between you two, right here in the hallway where you "greeted" Alhaitham. You weren't full on shouting at each other, but you were talking pretty loudly. If people were to walk by outside, they could probably hear every word you guys were throwing at each other.

But neither of you cared right now.

At some point, Alhaitham walked past you, into the living room, trying to escape the argument. But you insisted on continuing it, following him into the room and at this point, he was getting fed up with the situation.

"Archons, (name)! Can you just shut up and leave me be? I don't have time for trivial things right now!"

Immediately after he said that, you went silent and his words caught up with him as well.

He looked at you, saw how tears started to form in your eyes and instantly regretted ever letting those words fall out of his mouth. Nothing was more important than you in his eyes, and yet, he still said that to you. Like you didn't mean the world to him, which you did.

"(Name)-!"

"So, what? Was i really nothing to you? Was i just some kind of object that you can just forget about that easily? To toss aside when you don't want it anymore?"

You hated how your voice cracked halfway through, how tears started to escape your eyes. And despite how much his words had hurt you, you still didn't want to run from the situation. You had to see it through.

"If that is how you truly feel about me, maybe we should end-!"

Before you were able to end your sentence, you were suddenly pushed against a strong chest, warm arms keeping you in an embrace you had longed so much for, yet right now, it wasn't comforting at all.

"Let go off me..", you stated weakly, giving no indication that you planned to reciprocate his sign of affection.

"Never..", he whispered, and with the way he sounded right now, you could almost think that he was starting to cry as well. Almost..

"I'm so sorry, (name). I truly didn't mean to say that. Please, you have to believe me, I don't mean it. You are not trivial to me, nor is our relationship.

I.. I love you. I truly do. Though I don't openly say it that often, that doesn't mean my words hold any less truth in them. You have to believe me."

"I want to... I really want to believe you, Alhaitham. But with the way things are and have been for those weeks... I don't think I can.."

By now, the tears are streaming freely from your face and you weakly put your hands against his chest, needing some kind of stability.

"Then let me prove it to you. Let me prove to you that I still love you like the first day, that I never stopped loving you, even if my words and actions made you think otherwise."

You were silent after that for some time, thinking it over. You had no idea what the best course of action for you would be, but in the end, you decided to go with what your heart was telling you. Wether or not you would regret that decision, you had to find that out in the future.

"...One more chance. You better don't fuck up again or I'm leaving for good.", you mumbled against his chest, his shirt already stained with your tears, but neither you nor Alhaitham cared about that in the slightest.

All he could focus on, was you in his arms and the fact you granted him with another chance. And he intended to use it the best he could.

Kazuha

Between travelling around the different nations and helping out Beidou on board of the Alchor from time to time, Kazuha never really had much time.

You love Kazuha. You really do...

But sometimes, you just can't help but wonder if you even have a relationship with him at this point.

When he's gone again, for weeks or sometimes even months on end, and the only form of communication with him stems from a few letters sprinkled in between here and there, how could you not doubt?

In the beginning, you used to travel around with him. And while you enjoyed the time spent with your boyfriend, getting to see all those different places and creating wonderful memories with him, you eventually grew tired of it.

That's not to say that you didn't enjoy wandering around the nations with Kazuha by your side, but you just couldn't imagine spending your entire life like this. Never being provided with a place of your own, to call your home, constantly on the go.

It just wasn't your way of living.

Kazuha understood that and would never force you to accompany him, just like you would never force him to stay with you, even when sometimes the loneliness just got more to you than on other days.

He always came back to you, but he never stayed for more than a few days before he was out the door again, not to be seen for an unknown amount of time.

It was difficult, living like this. You tried to live off the memories and happy moments you had with him when he was here with you, but it wasn't enough anymore. You wanted him by your side again, but you also knew that he would suffer in the long run if you were to ask him to stay here with you.

However, in your mind, it also wasn't an option to just leave thing unmentioned.

Which is why you made the desicion, that the next time he would come home to you, you needed to talk to him about your thoughts and feelings, in hopes you could come to a solution together.

.....

Turns out, the next time he's home again would be three months later. And like always, only letters could have been exchanged throughout this entire time.

Kazuha already had a sneaking suspicion that something wasn't right with you. He couldn't exactly pinpoint it, but the way you were writing in these letters sounded off from your usual way, which is also why he tried to make it back to you as soon as he could. He felt bad that it still took him this long, but there was nothing he could have done about it.

The city he resided in when he got that particular letter from you underwent a strict lockdown only hours later, due to a prisoner escaping. The entire city had been shut down to find him as quickly as possible, all forms of communication had also been cut short.

It took them three weeks to apprehend the convict again, and as soon as the city doors opened again, Kazuha was out of them and on his way back to you.

...

When Kazuha arrived back at the little cottage the two of you shared, it was in the late afternoon.

Already, when he opened the door, he was absolutely certain now that something was wrong. Usually, you would come running to greet him at the first noise or hint that he had come back.

But now? Nothing.

"(Name)? I'm back!", he yelled, in hopes of getting your attention this way, but still, no reaction. Maybe you were out buying groceries or something?

Still, Kazuha decided to wander through the different rooms, just to make sure he wouldn't miss anything. And now, he's glad that he did as he saw you sitting on the patio, wrapped up in a comfortable blanket.

As he approached you, he noticed that you must be deep in your thoughts, just staring ahead of you. He gently opened the door and when that also didn't seem to catch your attention, he decided to speak up.

"Darling?", he asked, cautiously, not wanting to spook you.

You flinched a little at the unexpected sound coming from behind you, but just as quickly, you relaxed again, realizing who that voice belonged to.

"Kazuha. You're back.", you stated, grazing him with a small smile as you turned around to look at him, but nothing more. Normally, you would jump up into his arms, almost taking his breath away.

But Kazuha didn't say anything about it, instead, he grabbed one of the other chairs and sat right beside you. He gently took one of your hands into his, holding it like that. He missed this, missed this physical contact with you.

"Please.. Tell me what's been bothering you, darling."

"....was I that obvious?", you asked, causing a small smile to appear on Kazuha's lips. But he didn't answer, instead waited for you to continue on.

You sighed, fixing your gaze away from him and ahead of you again, thinking about how to best approach this. It was silent for a few minutes until you spoke up again.

"It's just... You're always gone for so long that I-!"

Before you could actually finish your sentence, Kazuha began to groan beside you, making you look at him in confusion.

"(Name).. you know that I don't like being bound to one place."

"I know that, but-!"

"No but's! You knew what you were involving yourself in by being with me. Why are we even having this conversation now?"

You were shocked, not expecting Kazuha to immediately get so defensive about this. All you wanted was to talk to him and maybe propose an idea you had got when he was away. But the way he was acting right now made you feel bitter.

"Can you just listen to me? I'm not trying to confine you, I just-!"

"Yes, you are, (name). What else could you possibly want to achieve by beginning the conversation like that?"

Fed up from being interrupted by him a third time now, you've had enough. An argument started to ensue, when you didn't even intend for this to happen.

You've never experienced something like this with Kazuha, he was always level-headed, calm and collected. So why was he suddenly getting so defensive over this topic. It really wasn't like you were trying to hold him here.

But, with each thing said, both you and him grew more and more heated, the shouting starting to get louder and louder, until Kazuha suddenly stood up.

"If I knew you would get like that, maybe I shouldn't have returned at all."

As you heard him say that, you instantly went silent, looking at him with your eyes wide open.

No.. he couldn't mean that, right?

It also now seemed to catch up to Kazuha what he just said, as he also turned to look at you, shock written all over his face.

"(Name), I...", he began to stay, but trailed off, not knowing what he even wanted to say in the first place. He knew he had fucked up with that statement.

"So, that's it? I wasn't anything to you? Just something you can toy with when you get bored, only to be thrown away when you don't want me anymore?"

A single tear escaped you, running down your cheek and Kazuha immediately had the instinct to wipe it away from your beautiful face, to pull you into his arms and tell you how sorry he was.

So he did just that, pulling you into him, holding your face against his chest as he held your head secure with his hand, your tears now starting to come out freely.

"I'm so sorry, darling. I didn't mean to say such horrible things. No words can express how much I regret ever letting them out of my mouth."

You weren't able to answer him, your breathing being erratic, trying to choke down your sobs and crys. It positively broke Kazuha's heart that he was the immediate cause for this.

He just let you cry in his arms until you calmed down again, all the while he kept apologizing to you over and over, telling you how much he loved you and how much you meant to him.

The two of you would have to continue this conversation, but not today. Not when both of you were this wound up from everything that had happened.

The talking could be done tomorrow. Now was the time for healing...

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luveline · 6 months

Note

if you’re open to it, could you complete the trio and write smth abt james seeing reader’s scars for the first time, too? ty x

ty for requesting ♡ fem

cw past self-harm [no graphic imagery]

It should surprise James as someone who's never thought about hurting himself, but he has two very important best friends, of which he'd do anything for, who aren't of the same disposition. So when he notices the pale skin of your scars where they criss-cross your chest, your stomach, your thighs, he's almost ready for it.

You attract sad souls, Sirius had said once, mostly joking.

But James doesn't think that's true. He just thinks there are more people who needed love and didn't get it than first appears.

You sit up in your sun lounger. James pretends not to notice when you see him, smiling to himself as you grab your cover up.

"The sun doesn't feel real, right?" you ask, sitting next to him on the picnic bench. "Late September heatwave. What will global warming think of next?"

"It's miserable," he says agreeably, though he loves the heat. "That's nice."

"This?" you ask, waving at your cover up. It's ruched fabric made to drape at your hips, almost like a skirt.

"Yeah, that. You look really pretty."

"Thanks, James." Your smile is all kinds of dazzling. "Nice of Sirius to host a party, huh? Now we can make the most of the sunshine. Did he put you in charge of food again?"

He nods to the spread in clingfilm behind you both. It's safe in the shade, the sun kissing to your knees and not much further. "Doesn't he always?"

"It's good for me. I like your samosas."

"Which ones? The kheema ones?" He nudges you amicably. "You have good taste. I made a bunch of sliders too, cucumber sandwiches. Don't limit yourself."

You stay by his side and eventually peel back the clingfilm on one of the plates, stealing quarter sandwiches with one of your legs pulled up on the bench. Your bikini is little and your coverup slips to one side down your leg, scars plainly on show. He has no intention of bringing it up, until you notice what's happened and flinch. He can't hide that he's seen fast enough, horrified when you fluster, you waver, your eyes pinched with humiliation. "Sorry," you say, laughing awkwardly. "I'm flashing you. Sorry."

He casts a glance around the back garden. Most of your friends squeeze into the lazy spa sweating themselves to death in the sun, and the remainder drink cold drinks by the stereo. No one's watching you but him.

"You don't have to be embarrassed," he says.

"I just didn't want you to see."

"Me?" he asks, startled.

"I mean. Not like that. Not not like that." You tear the crusts off of your sandwich and put them on the plate like you're looking for something to do. "Not like anything." You smile at him a raw shade off of happy.

"Shortcake, it doesn't bother me one bit. You think I care about that?" He ducks his head. "You're you. All of this," —he makes a small gesture at your front— "is you. I want to see all of it. You don't have anything you need to hide."

"All of it?" you ask strangely.

He doesn't get what you're saying but then he does, suddenly, blood rushing to his face and his ears hot as a flame. What a weird thing to say, he stresses to himself. You stupid man. "I'm not a pervert," he says.

You gawp. He gets hotter, if possible, scratching his hair back from his eyes.

"I mean, you're beautiful," he says, "anyone would be lucky to see it all. Oh my god."

You put your ruined sandwich on the edge of the plate and fix the clingfilm as he dies of shame. He's thinking well, courting you was fun while it lasted, all those bad jokes and better hugs, he loved every minute of your attention.

You laugh. "Most of the time I don't care about them," you confess, and he's so happy to hear your voice rolling over his embarrassment he could run a lap, "they're old. Can't do anything about them. But I didn't want you to think I was some sort of freak."

"Is that what you think you are?"

"No, of course not… Silly for doing something like that."

"I don't think it was silly. We do what we can, right?" He eases his arm around your shoulders in a hug, his hand eager to rub at the top of your arm. "I don't think you're some sort of freak, you're my type of freak."

"You really don't care?"

"I care," he says gently, touching the tip of his nose to your cheek before giving you a more friendly amount of space. "A lot. Especially about you, okay? But I don't care about them unless you do. I like you, yeah?"

"I like you too," you say.

"Wanna prove it?"

James asks you to make him a plate of things to graze on while he finds you both a drink. It's not his most romantic of lines, but it means you end up at his side for a dedicated while, flicking condensation at his chest. You don't worry about the coverup again.

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter fic #james potter fluff #james potter blurb #james potter drabble #james potter imagine #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #james potter scenario #james potter oneshot #the marauders #marauders era #marauders

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azulock · 5 months

Text

Shidou, oliver, nagi and sendo when they wake up ( in the middle of the night ) to find s/o quietly weeping?

I love hurt/comfort, sooooo- maybe s/o is crying cuz of insecurities?

Love ur works❤️💋

- 👻anon

Ask got lost cause I'm a mess but I had copied it to work on another file so it's fine. Anyway ghostie, made a slight change to this one cause I'm a hot girl with nightmare problems, like night terrors actually, and the realistic kind of nightmare, it legit has me waking crying and sitting up, very angst. Funny to say that tho cause the days I was writing this I was having nightmares, the universe has a sense of irony.

gn!reader. Oliver (488 words), Sendo (499 words), Shidou (435 words), Nagi (600 words). mentions of nightmares, but no warnings, only fluff

oliver aiku

It was still pitch black in the room when Oliver woke up to the feeling of something pushing against his body. he didn't need to try and focus his eyes to know it was you - he knew well enough that he kept you in a constrictor like embrace while he slept. though, he did squeeze his eyes in a urgent attempt to get used to the darkness the moment he heard your pained hiccups and choked breath.

Gently, he rubs a large hand over your back and shoulder, gruff voice asking you what's wrong. you hesitate to answer, but stop pushing against him and he takes it as a chance to bring you closer in, burying his face in your hair. when you don't respond, only continue crying against his bare chest Oliver already knows the answer - truth is he knew even before he asked.

He'd already seen you have nightmares, already been woken up by the trashing and incoherent, panicked sleep talking. he just never saw you wake up like this, crying, sweating and choking on your own breath. Oliver takes a moment to fully will his body to wake up, softly caressing your head and back while he does. when the gentle touch doesn't work to stop your crying he pulls you onto his lap, pushing away the covers before getting up with you in his arms.

Even in your confused state you are fast to ask him where he is going, arms weakly surrounding his broad shoulders. when he answers, you furrow your brows and stare at him. "a shower?" you mutter back. "yeah, you know I like showering with you," he answers with a yawn, you knew it was true, and not even in a sexual way, for Oliver it was like a bonding activity. "but it's the middle of the night," you protest and he shrugs. "doesn't matter, we gotta wash away those nightmares, love."

The minute the warm water hits his hand he is brought back to a time when he was a child and his mother used the same thing for him, running a shower to wash away whatever plagued his small mind. to this day, the water still felt grounding to him. it took a bit of coaxing but Oliver managed to get you under the shower with him, the warm stream luring you into it's soothing touch. you let him wash your skin and listen to him babble about nothing at all. soon enough you are talking too, and even laughing at his bad singing as he pulls you into dancing with him, head laying on his chest and listening to his steady heartbeat.

"ah, I think we should leave now before my hands turn fully into raisins," you yawn against his chest. "eh, I wouldn't mind that. did the shower help?" he asks, stiffling a yawn of his own. "yeah, you did too. thank you, Oli."

sendo shuto

Waking up in the middle of the night had never been uncommon for Sendo, he was a light sleeper, and he woke often enough that he'd learned to just will himself back to sleep. but this time he couldn't do it, not when he noticed the sound was coming from his own bed. when the quiet whimpering hit his ears again he almost panicked, sitting up and reaching out to you, only to find you quietly crying, face buried in your pillow.

The moment his hand touches your shoulder you startle, apologizing between small sobs for waking him up, tears pooling in your eyes. at the sight, Sendo almost tears up himself, throwing out his own apologies for not waking up before. he holds you close, face resting in your shoulder as he gently asks you what's wrong, hands caressing your skin as he does so. You pause, hiccuping a bit before whispering to him about your nightmare with only a vague description.

He feels his heart sink, hugging you tight as he tries to sush your cries and clean away your tears. though, when he notices it isn't working, he almost panics again, before calming himself down so he can help. you cry into his chest, tears staining his shirt, and he decides staying in bed just won't do you no good. with gentle words and soft touches, Sendo urges you to get up and out of bed with him, hand never leaving yours as he guides you out of the bedroom.

You protest, insisting that he needs the rest, but he responds that he could never rest knowing you were suffering. he leads you both to the kitchen, soft smile never faltering as he offers to make you tea. when you don't reject it, he feels a little better, putting the kettle on the fire as he tries to make a conversation to distract you. soon enough you hear the familiar whistle, and Sendo gets busy with making you both tea.

Giving you both mugs to hold, he moves to pick up whatever sweet snack you got in the fridge and a mantle he kept on the arm of the couch. with everything in hand, Sendo takes you to the balcony of your apartment, sitting down side by side with the mantle over your legs to keep you both warm. You talk and drink the tea, watching the stars scattered on dark sky above the city. it's peaceful, and although it takes a little, that peace starts to seep to you, your tears drying and the smile returning to your face.

It doesn't take long for your head to be dropping on his shoulder, heavy eyes unfocused as you cling to his arm. "thank you, Shuto, it feels safe with you," it's only a whisper, but it's the loudest thing for him at the moment. "you don't need to thank me, love, I'm always here for this," he replies, even though he doesn't think you can hear.

ryusei shidou

Shidou was always something of a deep sleeper, few are the things that can disturb his slumber before it's time for his alarm to ring - an they usually piss him off. not you, though. the minute he realizes what woke him was your crying form, trembling and gasping by his side in the bed, he is fully alert. few are the things that terrify him, but seeing you like that is one of them.

At first, it's confusing, but it's only half a moment before Shidou has his arms wrapped around you tight. it ceases your trembling, and after a couple seconds your breathing is even again, but tears still fall from your eyes. he asks what is the matter, question whispered in your ear as gently as he manages. you respond with a simple "nightmare" voice quiet and shaky. Shidou had heard you mention them before, he just never imagined it was like that.

Whatever, his surprise doesn't matter now, he needs a solution, something to chase whichever nightmare you had away. he thinks for a minute before his mind slips back to the thing you did the first time you came to his house. something you do together almost once a month. it can't be a bad idea - even if the idea is watch old B horror movies.

And when Shidou offers you don't disagree - though, you did spend a second in thought, one that had him surprisingly tense. so he carries you to the couch, covers and all, before throwing some popcorn in the microwave and setting off to pick up the most ridiculous movie he can thing of - Killer Klowns from Outer Space. it's weird, it's trashy, and it's the thing you two watched at a midnight screening on your first date.

With remote control and popcorn in hand he settles with you under the covers, his eyes spending more time on you than on the screen. where you start the movie still tense and misty eyed, you end it yawning between laughs. and it's like a weight was lifted from his shoulders - Shidou knows he is not the best at delicate situations, but at least this time his methods worked. so when you suggest going back to bed, he feels like he can sleep soundly again.

"ain't you afraid of dreaming with killer clowns, tho?" he remarks with a laugh, muffled by how his face rests against your neck. "nah, killer clowns are easy stuff," you chuckle and shake your head. "besides, even if I do, I know I got you there to protect me."

nagi seishiro

For Nagi, waking up in the middle of the night was rare - it was rarer yet for him to not just immediately close his eyes and fall straight into deep sleep again. though, it was a bit hard to do that when he felt something shaking and hiccuping beside him on the bed. he was about to call it a hassle and try to sleep again when his brain finally snapped and made the connection, noticing the absence of your body wrapped around his own. the shaking and hiccuping were you - fuck, you were crying.

Slowly and carefully he turned around, at a loss of what to do when he saw your trembling form under the covers - but he knew he had to do something. with light hands Nagi pulls the covers just enough so he can see your face, his eyes being met with your red and teary ones. you both freeze for a moment before you bury your face back in the pillow, muttering an apology for waking him up, words almost unintelligible between your hiccups - shit, now he feels terrible.

Still at a bit of a loss, Nagi shakes his head, refusing your apology and trying to ask you what happened as he pulls you to him, your back against his chest. your answer is a small whisper and he only barely understands it, but he is left to wonder how terrible a nightmare gotta be to leave you like this. when you keep crying even as he tries to sooth you, Nagi notices there is no way you can go back to sleep like this, so he sits up in bed and pulls you into his lap, kissing the top of your head.

There is not much he thinks he can do, he has never been the best at dealing with peoples emotions. so Nagi does what he'd do for himself and offers to find something to distract you. he snuggles you comfortably between his legs, head resting on your shoulder as you hug a pillow. at first he tries putting some show or cartoon for you to watch on his phone, but that doesn't prove to be enough to stifle your cries and he finds himself back to the drawing board, and having to think of something else.

It takes a minute of Nagi just silently caressing your head before he thinks of something. muttering against your ear, he asks if you'd rather play something with him. when you nod stretches one arm to reach for the nightstand, opening a drawer and pulling out your switch. he finds something cozy but still engaging enough to keep you entertained, and you settle on letting him hit the buttons while you just make the decisions. Nagi can't be sure how much time passes with you nestled between his arms and legs as he holds the console, but his plan works, and the game distracts you. the tears start drying on your cheeks and your breath evens out slowly, and sure as daybreak, a smile lights you face again.

"sei, thank you for doing this for me," you mutter, words cut by a long yawn. "huh? it's not like you got to thank me, tho, I don't mind it. so, what you want me to do no-" Nagi's answer is cut short just as he looks from the console back to you, finding your eyes closed as you'd fallen asleep in his arms. that night, he stays like that, being thankful he can sleep in any position, just so he can keep you safe.

today's tag sponsors: @wishiknewwhatiwasdoingwithmylife @loser-vxbez

#bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #oliver aiku x reader #ryusei shido x reader #seishiro nagi x reader #sendo shuto x reader #ryusei shidou x reader #shidou ryusei x reader #nagi seishiro x reader

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writerslittlelibrary · 7 months

Text

I'm not sleeping on the floor

masterlist

summary: when you go on a mission with the famous Black Widow, who you think hates you, there appears to be some trouble with the hotel booking, one that ends in the truth being revealed.

pairing: Natasha x teen avengers reader

warnings: none I think

genre: fluff

words: 1695

a/n: I remember reading a fic of a Natasha x reader where the hotel only had one bed and I enjoyed it so much I wanted to read more of them, but of course I could find none so I decided to write one myself :) (if you know any fics with this concept, please tag them in the comments)

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work

|——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

You sighed deeply while you sat in the car at the gas station, waiting for Natasha to finish up and continue your drive to the hotel. It was late, and both of you were tired. You knew Natasha must be mentally exhausted, always feeling as if she didn’t like you that much. At first you thought it was because you were still a teenager, but now you were convinced she just didn’t like you.

You, however, looked up to her, and when Fury made you the offer to join the Avengers you were excited to meet her. When you did, your excitement soon faded, noticing how cold she was towards you. You were heartbroken, but soon learned that staying out of her way was the best way to go.

And so, on most days in the compound you avoided her. When she came into the training room, you’d leave, and when you came into the kitchen she’d do the same.

It wasn’t what you hoped for, but you thought it worked to not make her upset. That changed however, when Fury decided that the next mission was perfect for the two of you to complete, going undercover as mother and daughter at an expensive party clearly meant only for the rich. You didn’t exactly come from a rich family, and you felt very out of place during the whole evening.

You didn’t think Natasha noticed, she herself looked right where she belonged, as if she was made for this kind of life. Just another thing that made the two of you different.

Your train of thought was interrupted when the car door opened, Natasha getting in and handing you a bottle of water. You gave her a quiet ‘thank you’ and took a few sips, clearly dehydrated from being at the party too long.

“It’s about a two hour drive to the nearest hotel,” she told you, typing in some navigation in the car. “Would you like some music?” Natasha asked as she turned to you. You didn’t dare look at her, deciding to just stare at your feet. “Sure,” you told her.

Natasha gave a hmm of acknowledgement before putting on some music, making the rest of the car ride a lot less awkward than the previous hour had been.

Once you arrived at the hotel, Natasha told you to grab your bag and follow her inside. You followed her instructions like a lost puppy, not wanting to do anything that might make Natasha mad. Once inside the hotel, Natasha walked up to the desk, asking for a room for her and her daughter. She was smart, not letting the roles you were giving fall away just yet.

The lady at the desk smiled sweetly, typed something into her computer and then handed Natasha a key. Natasha walked back to you, motioning to the elevator. You followed her once again.

When you made it to your room, and you walked through the door, you realized there was only one bed. Something you saw Natasha wasn’t really happy with either. “Just so you know, I’m not sleeping on the floor,” she told you, settling her stuff against a wall.

You nodded, settling your own stuff on a chair. You didn’t want to pick a side on the bed, worried Natasha would end up with a side she’d be uncomfortable with. “You can shower first,” you told her. Natasha gave a sound that resembled a ‘thanks’ before disappearing into the bathroom, leaving you alone in the empty room.

You could hear the shower run, and the fact you didn’t have to sleep alone comforted you in a way that was hard to describe, even if it was with a person you were sure didn’t like you. You settled on sitting on the floor, grabbing your sketchbook from your bag and busying yourself with some sketching.

Once Natasha came out, you slipped into the bathroom, wanting to shower and get into bed as quickly as possible.

You showered quickly, getting rid of all the dirt before drying off and putting on some comfortable clothes. You walked back into the room, seeing Natasha had already settled on her side of the bed, book in her hand. She looked at you when you reentered the room, closing her book and setting it on her bedside table.

She had picked the side of the bed closest to the door. Maybe a habit of hers, you thought. So she could run out of the room the fastest.

You walked to your bag, grabbing your favorite stuffed animal from it before settling into bed, as far away from Natasha you could manage. It was bad enough you had to sleep in the dark. All be damned if you had to sleep without your stuffed animal as well.

You felt Natasha’s eyes on you, eyeing you as you kept your stuffed animal close. You thought she was judging you for still sleeping with one, not realizing she was simply concerned.

You crawled under the covers, making sure Natasha had all the space she needed. This, of course, didn’t go unnoticed by the redhead, but she decided not to comment on it.

When you joined the Avengers she didn’t agree with it at all. She told Fury she found you way too young, not even being a legal adult yet. Fury dismissed her, saying you were a perfect person. She was upset when Fury didn’t agree with her, and when she met you she was hesitant. When she saw you for the first time, her heart simply broke. You looked so young, and in your eyes she could see the world hadn’t been kind to you.

You greeted her with a smile though, one Natasha found herself being unable to return. You were just a child. How could Fury possibly ever send you on a mission. How could he ask you to risk your life for something you probably didn’t even understand yet. After she met you, she was avoiding you, not wanting to face the reality of the fact you were risking your life in their team. When she saw you train it reminded her of the Red Room, feeling as though she was no better when she let you join the Avengers.

Little did she know that you took this behavior as resentment towards you. And so, you started avoiding her, sensing that you made the Russian uncomfortable. You didn’t want to be in her way, so you stayed out of it. You avoided her, and Natasha simply thought you learned about her past and were afraid of her. She decided to avoid you too, not wanting to scare you or make you uncomfortable.

And so, the cycle began. Both of you avoided the other for months, until this mission was called. Natasha was excited she got to work with you one on one, but she was worried you wouldn’t like it.

She sensed your uncomfortable feeling throughout the whole party, hating herself for not knowing what to do about it. When she saw the one bed she was simply afraid she’d make you more uncomfortable. She decided to sleep closest to the door so she could protect you if anything were to happen, something you picked up wrongly as well.

When she saw your stuffed animal, her heart simply broke. It was just another realization for her about how young you really were. You weren’t supposed to do these kinds of missions yet.

“Goodnight,” she told you, turning the lights off. l

The room was completely dark, scaring you in a way you couldn’t really explain. You never liked the dark, but after your father would lock you up in that dark room every time he got sick of you, you feared it more than anything else.

You whimpered slightly, hoping Natasha didn’t notice. Of course she did, but she didn’t let you know that. You clutched your stuffed animal closer to your body. You were terrified, feeling as though you were back in that little room. Natasha, nor any of the other Avengers knew about your past. Together with Fury you decided to keep it a secret, thinking it was better that way.

You shivered, pulling the blanket a little higher up.

“Are you okay?” you heard a voice from beside you. Your head whipped around, your mind completely leaving the hotel room and you got stuck inside your own head.

“It’s okay, it’s just me,” Natasha said, sitting up a little. “You’re safe,” you looked at her with fear for a few seconds, before you realised where you were. Your body relaxed a little, the blanket not held so tight anymore.

“Do you not like the dark?” Natasha asked you carefully. You slowly shook your head, scared you might make her upset. “We can keep a light on, or I could hold you… maybe…” Natasha continued unsure. She still thought you were afraid of her, and didn’t want to overstep.

“Why would you help me? You don’t even like me…” you told her, looking down at your stuffed animal.

Natasha frowned. Was that really what you thought of her? “What do you mean?” she asked you confused. “You walk away when I’m training, you don’t even look at me, and you always seem to be mad at me,” you told her slowly, still not looking at her.

“I thought you were afraid of me…” Natasha said softly. You looked at her now, eyes a little wide. “Afraid of you? No. I admired you. I just figured you didn’t like me so I kept my distance,” you explained to her. Natasha smiled at you. “I didn’t agree with Fury for placing you on the team because you’re so young. It has nothing to do with you, or the person you are,” Natasha explained, shuffling a little closer.

“Come here.” She opened her arms, letting you shuffle into them. “I’ll protect you, I promise,” she said as she held her arms around you, giving you a secure and safe feeling.

“Thank you,” you whispered, closing your eyes. “Anytime kid,” Natasha replied as she let her own eyes close, falling asleep peacefully.

#black widow #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #teen reader #natasha x teen reader #natasha x reader platonic #mcu #marvel #avengers #young avengers #mama natasha

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colonelarr0w · 16 days

Text

What Might've Been

Sypnosis - A mysterious girl appears at the entrance of Jujutsu Technical High School -- not speaking a lick of English and not understanding where she is. She isn't human...but that gets you wondering...what is she?

Pairing(s) - ! ALL PLATONIC ! Satoru Gojo x Reader, Suguru Geto x Reader, Shoko Ieri x Reader

Warning(s) - mature themes, canon JJK violence, gore, child death, angsty ending (I'm sorry gang)

Word Count - 10.4k

A/N - Randomly got an idea to write a fic where the Reader was a curse. I hope you all enjoy reading this just as much as I enjoyed writing it!

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

Darkness.

For as long as you could remember, the only sight seen by your eyes was an overarching darkness that seemed to stretch on forever — never once giving any indication that there may be some kind of light at the end of the otherwise never ending tunnel.

And to you, that was okay. The darkness became your friend over time, enveloping you in a cocoon of safety that could not be replicated by anything. It held your hands and guided you, watching silently as you grew and developed until a time where you could be used — until a time where you would be useful to the world of curses.

But like many things, your darkness eventually found its end, creating an opening that allowed light to pour in and the warmth of the sun to touch your skin with gentle hands. Confused, you folded your fingers into the hand that the light offers you, and with squinted eyes you look around.

Where am I?

Your head turns, blinking a few times to adjust to the overwhelming light that only seems to brighten each time that your eyelids flutter open. Slowly, you turn in a circle on the heels of your feet, suddenly aware of the unfamiliar sensation that lies beneath the skin of your feet.

You glance down, tilting your head curiously at the uneven stones beneath you. Curiously, you bend your knees, lowering your palms to the ground and laying it flat against the stone, shocked to feel heat emanating back onto the skin of your palm.

What are you doing?

You stand up straight, ears perked as you attempt to locate the source of the voice who had addressed you. Oddly enough, you stand completely alone in the stone pathway, surrounded only by unmoving trees and bright green grass. You open your mouth, trying to will any kind of sound to leave your parted lips, but you remain silent.

You press your lips back together in a firm line, narrowing your eyes and once again lowering yourself to the ground, this time taking a seat in the center of the stone pathway. Above you is a maroon-colored arch, one that is hanging over a set of stairs that lead somewhere — but you’re not entirely sure just where it leads to.

Are you comfortable?

You nod happily, laying both of your palms against the warm stones and spreading out your fingers, feeling smaller pebbles being caught within the lines of your skin. Your eyes wander up your arm, noticing the small stitches that hold the various parts of you together.

The scars don’t horribly disfigure you, not like the other curses that you could recall seeing in the depths of your memories. They turned out more inhuman than you, you were one of the lucky who was made to pass as human — only discoverable by eyes that shined like the prettiest aquamarine stones. You believe it was called Six Eyes.

You lift one of your hands off of the stones, suddenly aware of just how hot it had felt against your skin. You shake your hand, forming an ‘o’ with your lips and blowing on the palm of your hand, shocked to feel an opposite sensation. It wasn’t warm, but at the same time it wasn’t completely cold. But it was cold enough to relieve the burn on your skin — and it’s then that you notice the pattern left behind by the stones.

“C’mon Suguru, I’m sure he won’t mind if we take our time with this one.”

You turn your head at the sound of another’s voice, tilting it curiously as you watch two figures appear at the top of the steps. Both are tall and wear the same kind of clothing, yet they also wear completely different styles. One of the figures — this one with bright white hair — wears his clothes tight, accentuating his otherwise lanky figure. The other figure — this one with longer, darker hair — wears his clothes baggy, with parachute pants that make his legs look larger than they most likely are.

You wonder which one of them is supposedly ‘Suguru’.

Careful now, remember the eyes.

You nod your head, pushing yourself to your feet with the help of your hands. You lift your head to peer up the stairs, noticing how both of the figures had stopped walking and are peering at you with the same curiosity as yourself.

“Hey! What’re you doing down there?” It’s the white-haired figure that calls out to you, his covered eyes no doubt focused on you. The dark-haired figure is silent, watching you with a wordless curiosity. Opposites.

You part your lips to speak again, feeling an uncomfortable vibration in the base of your throat. You quickly snap your jaw shut again, rubbing your fingers against the skin of your throat and wincing — that had been oddly painful. But at the same time, it only spurred on your curiosity. Why could the two figures make sounds with their mouths and you couldn’t?

“Hey!” the white-haired figure calls out again, this time lifting his arm and waving down at you. You mimic him, lifting your arm and waving back at him. Confused, the white-haired figure turns to the dark-haired figure at his side, nudging him before beginning to descend the steps.

You wait patiently for both figures to approach you, but even when they do, they stand a healthy distance away from you — likely because of the discolored scars that litter your body, holding you together like a freshly stitched doll.

An uncomfortable silence hangs over the three of you, only broken by the dark-haired figure clearing his throat and speaking to you, “What are you doing down here?”

You try for the third time to do what the dark-haired figure is doing — making sounds with his mouth. But the moment that you try, a strangled cough falls from you instead. With both palms, you cover your mouth, cheeks flushed in embarrassment as the figures exchange a look with one another.

“What’s up with you?” the white-haired figure asks, tilting his head at you. You pout, jutting out your bottom lip and crossing your arms over your chest, disappointed that you couldn’t articulate yourself in the same way that both of the figures could.

The dark-haired figure is more sympathetic towards you, smacking a hand into the chest of the white-haired figure and shooting him a pointed glare. He turns back to you after a moment, his eyes softening as he gestures with his head towards you.

"You can't speak?"

You shake your head, furrowing your eyebrows to create an expression that is a mixture between frustration and sadness. The dark-haired figure nods understandingly, humming to himself. You mimic him, humming as well.

The white-haired figure glances between you and the dark-haired figure, then letting out a dramatic sigh and throwing an arm over the shoulders of the figure standing beside him, still glaring at you through his sunglasses as if you were a roadblock to him – and in a way, you were.

"Come on Suguru, this is pointless. Let's just--"

"Shut up Satoru."

Suguru. He's the one with the dark hair.

Satoru. He's the one with the white hair.

Opposites.

You tilt your head curiously at them, listening as they bicker with one another. How Suguru tries to patient with both you and Satoru and how Satoru only continues to act like a spoiled child. Your eyes continue to flicker between each of the two as they speak, taking mental notes of the difference in their tones, postures, and facial expressions.

Suguru then turns to you again, having effectively shut Satoru up. You find yourself smiling at the expression that Satoru wears; he looks more like a disappointed child now as opposed to a spoiled one. It made you wonder if he acted like that constantly, or if it was because you were around.

"Why don't you come with us?" Suguru offers, extending his hand to you. You peer curiously at it, how his fingers lightly shake and how the lines in his palms flex as his fingers extend out to you. You glance down at your own palm, flexing your fingers before placing your palm flat on top of Suguru's.

Rolling his eyes, Satoru turns on his heel and begins to move back up the stairs, not caring to glance over his shoulder to check that you and Suguru were following him.

You glance at Suguru, who still holds your hand. You hum again, smiling as Suguru's eyes flicker to meet your awaiting gaze. He returns your smile, then gesturing with his head towards the top of the stairs. You nod understandingly, falling into step with Suguru and climbing the steps.

You tilt your head back to look at the archways that line the stairs, smiling to yourself as you walk quietly beside Suguru – neither of you say anything about the fact that your fingers are still interlinked. For as foreign as it was to you, it also felt familiar.

"Come on, you're both taking forever!" Satoru complains from further up the stairs, turning to finally glance at both you and Suguru from over his shoulder.

You release your hold on Suguru's hand, deciding to take it two steps at a time to properly catch up with Satoru, not wanting to hear him complain any longer. You spread your arms out to balance yourself once you reach the top of the stairs, spinning on your heel and grinning widely as Suguru walks into view – immediately returning your childlike grin.

"What do we say to Yaga?" Satoru asks as Suguru moves to stand at his side. Suguru hums, his gaze momentarily flickering to sneak a glance at you. You lift your hand to wave at him once his eyes land on you, then taking two large steps to stand directly beside Suguru.

"I'm sure we'll figure something out," Suguru mutters, feeling his spine stiffen as you bravely fold your fingers into his own, squeezing at them and sending him another closed-eyed smile.

< … >

"And she was simply sitting there?" Yaga clarifies, raising an eyebrow at Suguru and Satoru – both of whom nod their heads. Satoru crosses his arms over his chest, having been mentally checked out of the conversation since first entering the office.

"From what we both saw," Suguru says, sneaking a glance at Satoru and mentally smacking his best friend at the disinterested look on his face, "yes. She was just sitting there."

Yaga hums in thought, folding his fingers together and resting his chin on top of his knuckles. He turns his head to the door, curious to see what would happen if he were to open it and allow you inside. But at the same time, he didn't want to risk a possible Curse or Curse User to have entry to his office, knowing that the action would carry its own unique set of consequences.

"Is she human?" Satoru asks, breaking the otherwise tense silence in the office. Yaga's eyes flicker to the third-year, his eyes narrowing as he mulls the question over in his head. That specific thought had not crossed his mind yet – were you human?

"Has she demonstrated anything that would indicate otherwise?" Yaga inquires. Satoru and Suguru exchange glances, thinking about your odd behavior and your inability to verbally communicate with either of them.

"Well, she acted oddly as we spoke to her. And when she herself tried to speak back to us, it was almost like she wasn't able to," Suguru answers, recalling the way that you had opened your mouth to speak and winced at the realization that nothing would come out.

Yaga nods thoughtfully, once again looking to the closed office door. He ponders his options, weighing them in his mind before he braces his palms against his legs, rising to his feet. He closes the distance to the door in two, long strides.

Outside of the door, you turn your head to the sound of the office's door clicking open, revealing a man with tanned skin and buzzed dark brown hair. You tilt your head up at him, pushing yourself to your feet and hiding your hands behind your back, peering up at the man with curious eyes.

"Hello there," Yaga says to you, trying his hardest not to sound intimidating. You blink at him, resembling a deer caught in a truck's headlights as you tilt your head to the opposite side.

Deciding to try again, you part your lips to speak, wanting desperately to say something to the man that towers over you. But just like the previous two times, the only thing that comes from your throat is a hum – just like how Suguru had hummed at you before.

Furrowing his eyebrows, Yaga glances down at your hands, watching as you lay your fingers against your throat, squeezing at it as if trying to force sounds out of it. He narrows his eyes at you, humming to himself before turning back to the office door. No, you weren't human.

"Why don't you come with me?" Yaga offers, gesturing with his hand towards the office. You follow his gaze, peering inside to see both Suguru and Satoru sitting on two wooden chairs. You grin, promptly making your way inside and beelining for Suguru, lowering yourself to sit cross-legged in front of his chair.

Yaga is only a step behind you, watching through narrowed eyes as you sit down in front of Suguru. With the way that you glance up at him, one might think that you were the third-year's obedient dog. Your eyes wait for him to notice you, lighting up the moment that his gaze meets yours – even if it's only for a fleeting moment.

They know what you are, be very careful.

You shake your head, ignoring the ringing in your ears and turning back to Yaga. The older man sits behind a grand oak desk, one that has papers scattered about its surface with scribbled lines drawn onto them. Suguru furrows hie eyebrows down at you, having noticed the flickering expression that had passed over your face – as if someone had blown into your ear and startled you.

"Both of you keep an eye on her. You may tell Shoko as well, but try to keep her from the other students," Yaga instructs, receiving nods of agreement from both Satoru and Suguru. You turn your head halfway to Yaga, curious as to who this mysterious 'Shoko' was.

Would they be another figure like Satoru? Or were they someone like Suguru?

"We understand," Suguru says, then standing from his seat and offering his hand to you. You lay your palm against his, allowing him to lift you off of the ground with shocking strength.

Satoru puffs out the air that he holds in his lungs, not reacting as his bangs fall back into place over his eyes, shielding his vision. You tilt your head at him, was he hiding his eyes on purpose? Or was there something else about him that you simply didn't know?

"Come on, let's get you a uniform," Suguru says to you, smiling. You return his smile brightly, bounding after him as he makes his way to the door of the office. Satoru follows close behind, hunched over with his hands stuffed into his pockets. It was effortlessly clear that he was inconvenienced by your presence.

You follow close behind Suguru as he leads you down a long, winding hallway. Besides the three of you, there isn't anyone else, which only piques your curiosity in who 'Shoko' was and who the 'other students' were. Deep down, you hoped that Shoko wasn't anything like Satoru – who continued to make it clear that he didn't like you one bit.

You turn your head to sneak a glance at Satoru, taking a mental note of the way that his eyebrows pinch together and the way that a pout settles over his lips. He walks close to Suguru's side, similar to the way that you did.

Suguru stops walking eventually, turning to peer down a small archway that leads to an outdoor area, one with the trees that matched those that you had walked past when Suguru and Satoru had led you up all of those stairs.

"Stay here, I'll go and get Shoko," Suguru says, nodding at both you and Satoru before walking outside. You take a step after him, but Satoru is quick to stop you, his fingers closing around your wrist and tugging you back to your original position.

"He said stay," Satoru says slowly, speaking to you as if you were a child who lacked understanding. You nod at him, pressing your lips firmly together and waiting patiently for Suguru to return.

The dark-haired male returns a few seconds later, another figure following behind him. Their hair is short and brown, with a beauty mark just underneath their left eye. You peer curiously at them, watching as they shift the position of something in their mouth – a stick with a brown end.

"Woah," the figure says, eyes raking up and down your figure before their eyes flicker between Suguru and Satoru, neither of which say anything in response. "Shoko, it's nice to meet you."

You smile brightly at the figure, holding your hand out to her in the same way that Suguru had done to you so many times before. Shoko returns your smile with one of her own, soft and gentle; and her hand folds into yours, shaking it politely.

"We've been tasked to keep an eye on her. She isn't allowed to be around any of the other students, obviously with us being the only exception," Suguru explains, stowing his hands away in his pockets, "at least, that's what Yaga told us."

"Babysitting duty," Satoru says in a sour tone, scrunching his nose in an expression of disgust as he glances to Shoko. She reaches a hand out, swiping at the back of his head and rolling her eyes at the dramatic cry that he lets out.

"You're such a jerk," Shoko mutters through her teeth, then turning to you, "don't mind him, yeah?"

You flash her a closed-eye smile, nodding in agreement.

< … >

"Go on and try again, there's nothing wrong with trying," Suguru says with a reassuring smile, finding himself biting back a chuckle at the frustrated expression that passes over your face. You puff your cheeks out, annoyed at the fact that every time that you tried to speak...nothing happened.

You inhale deeply, puffing your chest out and holding the air in your lungs before forcing your lips apart, trying once again to say one simple word.

Ignoring the small burn in your throat, you screw your eyes shut.

"Hello."

Suguru smiles, his eyes crinkled at the corners as you open your eyes again, staring at him like a deer in headlights. "See? I told you that you could do it."

You grin widely, springing up from your place in front of Suguru and barely containing the excitement that shoots through you. You curl your hands into gleeful fists as you continue happily dancing around, earning a proud chuckle from Suguru.

"Hello," you repeat, shocked at the sound of your own voice. It didn't sound anything like the little whispers in your head. Those were raspy, gravelly voices that felt like nails being dragged down a chalkboard. Your voice was soft, quiet – a stark contrast.

"Hi," Suguru returns, smiling again at you as you seat yourself back down in front of him. "Now, what's your name?"

You purse your lips, humming in thought before bubbling, "(Y/N)!"

Suguru nods, reaching a hand out to affectionately ruffle your hair. You lean into the touch, smiling brightly and repeating your name to him again.

Your ears perk at the sound of two pairs of footsteps, turning to see Satoru and Shoko walking into the otherwise empty classroom – presumably looking for both yourself and Suguru. Satoru says nothing to either of you whereas Shoko waves politely, shooting you a kind smile.

"Hi!" you say excitedly. The sound of your voice causes Shoko's eyes to widen, the cigarette between her lips falling to the floor in front of her. The ghost of her smile returns, spreading across her face as she kneels in front of you.

"Well would you look at that? You found your voice," Shoko compliments, patting your head in a fashion similar to the way that Suguru had. You smile at the display of affection, leaning closer to Shoko and then glancing to Satoru, hoping for that same kind of praise.

He rolls his eyes begrudgingly, unfolding the arms that he had previously crossed over his chest. "Good job (Y/N)."

You smile, scrunching your nose up at him.

< ... >

"There you go. Now, when you go to punch someone, tuck your thumb inward," Suguru instructs, lifting his hand and folding his own thumb inward, then gesturing to you to mimic the action.

"In," you repeat, holding up your hand and making a show of tucking your thumb inward. Suguru nods at you, then gesturing to the punching dummy that he had nicked from one of the training rooms in order to help you with your self-defense.

It had been six months since Suguru first stumbled upon you at the stairs of Jujutsu Tech, and in those six months he still didn't have an answer to the question of who you really were or where you truly came from.

Sure, you looked human enough – even though the stitches that littered your body could tell a completely different story depending on the author. But even with those stitches, you acted like a constantly excitable child, always wanting to be at Suguru's side and wanting to be involved in everything that he did.

To him, it was endearing, albeit very confusing at the same time.

You turn to the punching dummy in front of you, curling your hands into fists and making sure to tuck your thumbs inward just like you had been told. You throw a punch at the dummy, smiling as it wobbles backward before returning to its original position.

"Good?" Your body turns to glance at Suguru, already feeling your senses tingling at the proud smile that settles itself on Suguru's lips.

"Good job (Y/N)."

"Yeah, you're doin' great," Shoko agrees as she walks onto the training field, smiling and returning your hug as you rush to throw your arms around her. "Yeah, yeah, I missed you too."

"Where's 'Toru?" you inquire curiously, tilting your head as you realize Satoru's absence. Shoko glances over her shoulder, furrowing her eyebrows and letting out an exasperated sigh through her nose.

"He was supposed to be right behind me. Guess he got sidetracked," Shoko says offhandedly, though she regrets her tone upon seeing the fall in your expression. Your shoulders slump, eyes casting themselves to the ground as you take a step back from her.

"Does 'Toru like me?"

Suguru and Shoko exchange knowing glances with one another. Neither of them answer you quickly, which only adds to the feeling of dejection.

Shoko lifts her hand, resting it reassuringly on your shoulder and sending you a comforting smile. "Sure he does, he just has a weird way of showin' it."

All you could do is nod in response.

< … >

"A mission?" You can't help but tilt your head at Suguru, who only nods at you as he adjusts the cuffs of his sleeves. He chuckles, then turning completely to you.

“Yeah, Yaga will sometimes send us out on missions. We go out to a given location and exorcise the curses that reside there,” Suguru explains, watching as you mull his words over in your head.

Curses? Exorcise?

“What’s a curse?” you ask, following Suguru as he begins to walk towards the entrance of Jujutsu Tech. He turns to glance at you over his shoulder, feeling himself smile as you spread your arms out to balance yourself, having accidentally rolled your ankle while following him.

“A curse is—“

“There you are Suguru! I’m offended, you almost left without me,” Satoru says loudly from behind you, dramatically wiping away tears that definitely don’t exist.

You turn and smile as the snowy-haired male approaches both you and Suguru, throwing his arm over Suguru’s shoulder and sparing you a half-assed glance. You smile and wave, still polite as ever.

“Are you going too?” you turn to Satoru, “Yaga said that I can go too!”

Satoru forces himself to smile, left eye twitching in annoyance as he turns his head to look at you. “Joy.”

“Don’t be like that Satoru,” Suguru scolds, whacking a hand against the back of Satoru’s head. The latter lets out a yelp, cupping the back of his head and shooting Suguru a half-assed glare — one that is immediately reciprocated by the raven-haired male.

You smile lightly at both of the boy’s antics, taking two steps to stand at Suguru’s left side, then turning your head to flash that same smile at Satoru.

For a moment, something inside of Satoru softens. But only for a moment.

“Ready to go?” you say to both of the third-years, smiling and folding your hands behind your back as your gaze flickers between the two.

“Stay close, okay?” Suguru says to you, his eyes softening as his gaze falls on you. You smile, nodding your head at him.

“Okay!”

< … >

So that’s what an exorcism is.

You watch through curious eyes as Suguru holds what used to be a curse in his hands, fingers curled around the small, swirling ball. He lifts it up, eyes examining it for a moment before he notices your curious gaze.

“That’s…what a curse is?” you say, pointing at it and scrunching your nose. Suguru nods his head, opening his mouth and promptly absorbing the curse — just as he always had done.

Your eyes widen as you watch him consume the ball, eyebrows lifting to create a worried indent in the skin of your forehead. Your hands shoot out, taking hold of either side of his face and tilting it this way and that.

“What did you do that for?!” you squeal, squeezing Suguru’s face and staring worriedly at him. He chuckles, unable to answer with the force at which you hold his cheeks.

“It’s okay (Y/N),” he says, voice slightly muddled, “it’s just my technique.”

“Technique?” you echo.

He nods, adjusting his jaw once your hands release him. He smiles again at you, the sight slightly reassuring you.

“Sorcerers have what are called Cursed Techniques, mine just so happens to be the absorption of curses,” Suguru explains, smacking his lips as a disgusted expression falls over his face.

You tilt your head at him, pressing two fingers against your throat before your gaze returns to his facial expression — how his eyebrows are slightly pinched together, how his eyes water and how his jaw momentarily sets itself in place.

“Not good?” you whisper to him, as if asking him about a secret that only he knew the answer to. Suguru’s eyes flicker to you, his gaze softening.

“No,” he answers simply, shaking his head at you. You pout, bottom lip jutting out before you reach out and pat his shoulder — similar to the way that he would pat either your head or shoulder as a means of comfort.

“Why do you do it then?”

Suguru pauses, his hand coming up to cover your own. His fingers affectionately squeeze your own, lips turning upward in a smile just as soft as his actions.

“It’s a curse (Y/N). We’re meant to exorcise them,” Suguru reiterates, smacking his lips together in an attempt to rid his tongue of the taste left behind by the consumed curse.

You hum, glancing down at the stitches that crawl up your arms. We’re meant to do it. We’re meant to do it.

But why are they meant to do it?

“So…curses are bad?” you turn your head to Suguru, falling into step with him as he glances down at his phone. Satoru must have texted him regarding the curse that he was meant to exorcise.

Suguru hums in agreement, stowing his phone away into his pocket and casting you a sideways glance. He makes a mental note of the conflicted expression on your face, eyebrows pinched together and eyes slightly narrowed.

“Yeah, they pose as a danger to people that can’t see them. So us Jujutsu Sorcerers are sent to exorcise them,” Suguru explains, reaching behind him to fold his fingers into your own. Your lips, which usually turn upward at any given affection, remain pressed together in a thin line.

Your eyes widen for a moment, an expression of realization flickering over your face. You stop walking beside Suguru, not reacting as his hand tugs at yours, silently telling you to continue walking.

“…they pose as a danger to people that can’t see them.”

Wait a minute.

“What are you doing out here? Don’t you know it’s dangerous?” Suguru says gently to the little girl standing in front of him, her arms wound tightly around a small stuffed rabbit.

She sniffles, using the hand that doesn’t hold her rabbit to wipe the stray tears that roll down her cheeks. “I’m sorry,” she sobs.

Suguru sighs, an exasperated puff of breath through his nose as he places a hand on top of the girl’s head, rubbing her hair comfortingly.

“It’s alright.”

Curiously, you kneel down beside Suguru, staring at the girl with your head tilted to the side. You lift a finger, pointing at the rabbit that the girl clutches to her chest.

“I like your toy,” you say to her with a smile, mimicking the way that Suguru had smiled at the girl in order to prove that he wasn’t there to hurt her.

The girl only sniffles again, her gaze never once leaving Suguru. Curiously, the raven-haired male flicks his eyes to glance at you — had the girl maybe not heard you?

“I like your rabbit,” Suguru repeats, gesturing with his head towards the toy clutched in the girl’s arms. The girl smiles gently, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she hugs her rabbit a little tighter.

“Thanks Mister.”

You pause, blinking. The girl continues to smile at Suguru, forgetting about any and all of the fear that she had been feeling just seconds before.

She couldn’t see you.

Non-sorcerers can’t see Curses. Did that mean that…?

“Hey…(Y/N), you alright?” Suguru asks, his voice filtering its way back into your ears. You turn quickly to him, blinking away the last remnants of your trance.

“Yeah! I’m okay!” you answer with a bubbly smile, though that thought lingers in the back of your mind — what were you?

< … >

“Have any of you seen (Y/N)? I wanted to practice a Reverse Curse Technique with her,” Shoko shifts her cigarette from the left side of her mouth to her right, peering curiously at Suguru and Satoru.

Satoru shrugs, sipping at the can of cola in his hand and glancing at Suguru, who also shrugs.

“Lovely, you’re both so useful,” Shoko rolls her eyes, turning on her heel and departing from the room. She wanders down the hall, passing by your dorm and stopping as she notices the door had been left open.

Curiously, she peers inside, shocked to see you sitting in the center of the room. Surrounding your crossed legs are various textbooks from taken from the library, all of them open to pictures of various curses — ranging from Second-Grade to Special-Grade.

Your eyes roam over the sketched pictures, fingers running over a particularly nasty looking Special-Grade curse that looks oddly similar to a disfigured human — a woman to be exact. You tilt your head at the image of her, her arms were stitched in a similar fashion to your own, but yet you both looked drastically different.

“(Y/N)? What’re you doin’ in here?” Shoko smiles softly at you as she enters, knocking once to alert you to her presence. You turn quickly to her, slamming the textbook shut and looking at her as if you had been caught doing something that you weren’t meant to be doing.

“Hi Sho’!” you say affectionately, standing from your place in the center of the room and brushing your hands down the front of your pants. She eyes you curiously, humming to herself before removing her cigarette from between her lips, puffing out one last cloud of smoke before she walks to the window of your dormitory, then disposing of her finished cigarette.

She tilts her head, noticing your avoidance of her question, “Everything okay?”

You nod, humming at her and folding your hands behind your back, forcing your gaze to focus on her and not wander down to the closed textbook by your foot. You swallow the growing lump in your throat, wincing as it momentarily gets stuck — hopefully Shoko wouldn’t notice.

“Yeah! I was just reading, Sugu said it was a good way to kill time!” you answer with your usual bubbly smile, but Shoko doesn’t fail to notice how it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. You were hiding something, and it wasn’t very subtle.

“Oh cool, what’re you reading?” Shoko inquires, tilting her head and lowering herself to the floor, plucking one of the closed textbooks off of the ground and flipping through it. She makes a mental note of the way that your expression falls, like a child who had been caught doing something that they shouldn’t.

“Reading about curses, those thingies that Suguru and ‘Toru went to exorcise,” you answer honestly, taking the textbook from her and opening to the page that you had been staring at, turning it towards her and smiling again — hoping again that she wouldn’t notice the way that you force your lips upward.

“Oh, that’s a Special-Grade,” Shoko comments, smiling at you as you turn the textbook back around, glancing down at the sketched picture. “They’re tough ones.”

“Stronger than Sugu and ‘Toru?”

Shoko shakes her head, chuckling breathily, “No, not stronger than those two idiots.”

You glance down at the picture, at the stitches on the curse’s arms and the way that its eyes crinkle in a sadistic, maniacal smile. You tilt your head — she looked a little bit like you.

“Are curses bad?” you glance up at Shoko, who stares curiously back at you. “Are all of them bad?”

“Well, yeah. They wanna hurt the innocent, and that’s why we exorcise them,” Shoko explains, following you to the floor as you sit down, crossing your legs. Your eyes wander back down to the sketched image, eyebrows pinching together.

“But what if a curse doesn’t hurt people?”

“That’s practically unheard of,” Shoko comments, turning to you, “a lot of the curses we exorcise have already hurt innocent bystanders.”

You nod your head, though the action feels forced. You hadn’t hurt anyone…did that make you a bad curse?

< … >

Go away.

GO THE FUCK AWAY.

You step back from the now broken mirror, chest rising and falling in heaving breaths as you glance down at your reddened arms, nail marks dragged against your skin in angry red lines.

Eyes that scream tales of hatred flicker up to your awaiting reflection, the broken glass giving your body a fragmented look that only adds to your disgust of the stitches that hold you together.

You were the same as that broken mirror — fragmented and messily put back together by hands that weren’t your own.

Your shoulders continue to rise and fall in tune with your heavy intakes of air, hands curled into white-knuckled fists with blood dripping down the crevices of your skin. You bled the same as they did, and yet you were still so drastically different.

“Monster,” you whisper to your reflection, glancing back at it and reeling your arm back, preparing to strike at the broken mirror again.

You are no monster.

You pause, fist hanging limply in midair as you stare at your eyes. Something in you tells you to complete the action, but you don’t.

“Curse.” Shakily, you lift a finger to point at the fragmented reflection that stares back at you.

That’s better.

You glance down at the reddened lines that now adorn your arms, nail marks left behind by angered scratching fueled by the sight of your stitches.

You weren’t like Suguru or Satoru — they were human.

I’m not human.

Now show them what a true curse is.

< … >

"Another Special-Grade? Honestly, can they just not find qualified sorcerers to deal with these things?" Satoru complains loudly, his eyes momentarily falling shut as Shoko slips his darkened sunglasses onto the bridge of his nose.

Suguru bites back the laugh that bubbles at the back of his throat, his gaze flickering to watch the dramatics of his best friend – which has now resulted in the snowy-haired male lying flat on the floor of the gymnasium, his arms spread at his sides like a starfish.

"Supposedly, we're the only two that are qualified enough to take on Special-Grades. You know that Satoru," Suguru reminds him, kneeling down on the floor and sitting cross-legged beside Satoru, who blows a puff of air from his parted lips and groans as his bangs fall back over his eyes.

"Bullshit," Satoru mutters, pushing himself up onto his elbows and turning his head just enough to glance at Suguru.

"Come on, we should leave now before Yaga gets upset."

Satoru groans again, standing with Suguru's help and glancing at Shoko – who is currently lighting what the males believe to be her fourth cigarette of the day, though neither of them comment on it.

"Can one of you check on (Y/N) before you go? Haven't seen her," Shoko mutters, struggling momentarily with her lighter. The moment that the end of her cigarette is lit, she takes a deep inhale, then releasing the small cloud of smoke in front of her and waving it away quickly.

Suguru's eyebrows pinch together, "What are you talking about?"

Shoko pauses, she hadn't told either of them about the state that she had found you in that day; surrounded by meaningless textbooks and looking at the pictures as if they had resonated with you on a spiritual level.

"Just," Shoko pauses, already lifting her thumb and index finger to the bridge of her nose, pinching it, "check on her, yeah?"

Satoru opens his mouth to protest, but Suguru is quick to slap the palm of his hand against his friend's parted lips, effectively silencing him.

"Sure thing," Suguru answers with a closed-eye smile, moving his hand from Satoru's mouth at the feeling of the center of his palm being licked.

The walk to your dormitory from the gymnasium isn't very long, or at least, it wouldn't have been as long as it was if Satoru wasn't loudly complaining and dragging his feet. As much as Suguru wants to spin on his heel and tell Satoru to just stop, he restrains himself – focused instead on getting to you and figuring out the source of Shoko's concern.

He rounds the corner to the student dormitories, his eyebrows pinching together as he notices your door open. Satoru pauses as well, resisting the urge that he has to throw out a sarcastic quip.

"(Y/N)?" Suguru calls into the empty room, taking a step over the threshold and peering curiously around your dormitory's interior. The first thing that he notices is the overturned furniture, then the scattered pages of various textbooks, and lastly the broken glass that litters the floor. What the hell happened?

"What the hell happened here?" Satoru asks, looking around and lifting his leg to be sure that he doesn't step on any broken glass. Suguru exhales shakily, already turning on his heel and leaving the room – now he understood all of Shoko's concern.

"Come on, we're finding (Y/N)."

< … >

"No, wait, please!"

You tilt your head, eyes widening momentarily as the man in front of you begins to expand, his eyes bulging from his head as blood spills from his lash line like tears. His hands lift shakily, fingers digging into his hair before his head promptly explodes.

His body tilts backward, falling with a lifeless thud.

See? Isn't it entertaining?

You stare down at the headless corpse, kneeling down and poking at the blood that dribbles down the man's neck. The liquid clings to your skin, the sight bringing a disgusted curl to your lips as you quickly straighten yourself, standing.

You turn on your heel, exiting the alleyway that you had cornered the man in, wandering down the busy street and listening to the buzz of the pedestrians that surround you. You turn your head this way and that, simply taking in the simplicity of the lives that humans lead.

As you continue to walk down the street, you find yourself smiling at the fact that nobody pays you any mind – not that they had the ability to. You were unseen for as long as you wished to be unseen, creeping up on whoever you wished with the same stealth as a prowling cat.

You should get that one next.

You lift your head to look ahead, eyes landing on a young girl wandering the streets, her eyes bright and glittering as she skips along. Her arms are wound tightly around a stuffed animal, just like the other young girl that had been unable to see you on that mission with Suguru.

A smirk curls the corner of your lips upwards, eyes crinkling at the corners as you slowly begin to stalk your way towards the young girl. She continues walking, her little pigtails swaying with each step of her feet. You reach a hand out, the tips of your fingers just barely grazing the back of her head.

"(Y/N)."

You pause, eyes wide as you lift your head to stare ahead. The young girl turns, her eyebrows pinching together in confusion as she stares right through you, her eyes focused instead on the raven-haired male that stands behind you.

Suguru pauses, watching you with a tilt to his head that simply asks, "What are you doing?" His body language otherwise is relaxed, showing you that he was of no threat to you. He didn't want you to think that he was going to hurt you.

You don't turn to face Suguru, instead reaching a hand out and laying your palm flat against the top of the girl's head. She gives no reaction, her eyes still focused on the male who had called her by the wrong name.

Suguru watches through horrified eyes as the girl promptly expands, her voice catching in her throat. Her parted lips only release a high-pitched squeak before the upper half of her body explodes.

Her blood spatters against the pavement in front of her, the lower half of her body tilting backward before it falls to the ground with a dull, lifeless thud.

The passerby that walk down the street pause, and it only takes one person screaming to send the surrounding pedestrians into a state of unbridled panic.

Suguru watches, his eyes wide as those around him scramble for safety, not knowing what was going on or who had been the cause of the carnage that lay in the middle of the sidewalk. His body stands as stiff as a board, eyes flickering momentarily down to the girl who lays in the sidewalk.

“(Y/N),” he begins, taking a brave step towards you and reaching for your wrist. Your eyes flicker down to his outstretched fingers, quickly avoiding him and turning around to blankly glare at him.

It was a look that he had never seen on your face before, hatred swirling in your eyes and a disgusted scowl curling the corner of your lip upward. You glared at him as if he were the scum of the Earth — devoid of all of the warmth that you once held for him.

“What? Are you going to exorcise me too?” you inquire with a tilt of your head, hair falling over your shoulders as you turn completely to face him.

Suguru furrows his eyebrows together, staring at you as if you had somehow sprouted another head. Exorcise you? How would he even be able to do that?

He doesn’t know what you are, remind him.

Your lips peel back in an angered growl as you turn your head to catch a glance at the young girl lying on the sidewalk. Her blood had already somewhat dried up, now caked on top of the sandy brown tiles of the pavement.

“I did what the other curses do,” you murmur, eyes flickering down to your now bloodied hands. This very time yesterday you would have scrunched your nose in disgust and tried to scrub every last droplet of blood from your palms.

But now?

Now you looked down at the blood like it was your own personal golden trophy — a reminder of what you had become and the persona that you had adopted. If you were considered a curse, then you were going to show everyone a true curse…even Suguru.

“Does that mean that now you’re going to exorcise me?”

Suguru pauses, swallowing the growing lump in his throat and glancing at you with an expression that is an odd mixture of confusion and concern.

“(Y/N), what are you talking about? You aren’t a curse,” Suguru says, his sentence momentarily broken by a breathy chuckle. You grit your teeth, shaking your head at him.

He doesn’t understand…make him understand.

“Only you, ‘Toru, and Sho’ can see me,” you point out, “nobody else can.”

“That’s not true. Yaga and—“ his voice trails off. You nod knowingly, smirking as the realization finally dawns on the male standing in front of you.

“And no one else,” you finish for him, taking a step towards him. Then you take another, and another, and suddenly your shoulder is brushing against his as you move to walk past him. “You don’t find that odd?”

Suguru turns quickly, already wanting to reach out for you and knock some kind of sense into you. But you’re much swifter than he is, and you dodge the hand that reaches out for you.

“But you aren’t like the other curses.”

You smirk, gesturing with only your eyes down to the girl that lays dead in the middle of the sidewalk.

“Is that not what other curses do?” you jab a thumb over your shoulder, reminding Suguru of what lies behind you. “Is that not why you exorcise them?”

Suguru pauses, once again swallowing the lump in his throat and forcing his gaze to focus on you — trying to forget what lies just over your shoulder. He didn’t want to accept it, he couldn’t accept it, but you were making it abundantly clear that you held not an ounce of remorse.

You were a curse. And he was a Sorcerer.

What the fuck does he do now?

< … >

Suguru Geto —> Satoru Gojo

You need to get down to ******. Something’s REALLY wrong with (Y/N).

Satoru Gojo --> Suguru Geto

What do you mean?

Suguru Geto --> Satoru Gojo

Just get down here.

Satoru Gojo --> Suguru Geto

Alright, I'm on my way.

"Suguru! What's going on?" Satoru waves his hand in the air as he slows to a stop at Suguru's side, peering curiously at his best friend through the darkened lenses of his sunglasses. Suguru stands quickly, not bothering to answer before he's sweeping past Satoru and leading him in the direction that you had walked off in.

Curiously, Satoru follows, falling quickly into step with Suguru as both sorcerers walk down the pedestrian-filled sidewalk. The former doesn't fail to notice the way that Suguru's eyes dart around the various shops and scan the various faces that happen to pass by. The only question that he had was; why?

"Are you – uh – gonna tell me what's going on?" Satoru finally breaks the silence between himself and Suguru after they had been walking for a good five minutes in nothing but an awkward, tense silence.

Suguru swallows the lump in his throat, voice heavy when he finds it, "Just...something's wrong with (Y/N)."

"Yeah," Satoru replies with a roll of his eyes, "I gathered that much."

"No, I mean really wrong. She isn't human Satoru," Suguru says gravely, already feeling himself shudder at the realization that you were nothing like what he had originally believed. But after you told him that nobody beside himself and the others at Jujutsu Tech could see you, everything quickly fell into place.

"What do you mean she isn't human?" Satoru echoes, tilting his head curiously as Suguru stops at the entrance point of a darkened alleyway. Brown eyes stare quietly down the length of the alleyway, focusing on something before Suguru takes a brave step forward with Satoru following close behind.

"I mean that she's a curse," Suguru says finally, turning his head to glance at Satoru.

The snowy-haired male pauses, standing as still as stone at the entrance of the alleyway. His jaw is slack, but he's quick to snap it back into place. "A curse?"

Suguru doesn't answer, not that he really needs to. But Satoru wants him to, he wants an explanation – a play-by-play of just how it came out that you weren't human. If you were really a curse, how come his Six Eyes had never told him that? What about you made them falter?

Or maybe...maybe they hadn't faltered. Had Satoru ignored his Six Eyes when they told him that you weren't human when he first met you?

"Let's just find her and get her back to Jujutsu High before anything happens," Suguru says as firmly as he can, though Satoru doesn't fail to notice the slight waver to his best friend's voice. He had cared about you from the moment that his eyes fell on you, tucking you underneath his wing and shielding you from the uglier parts of the Jujutsu world.

And yet, here he was, still protecting you even when you were the one thing that he had sworn to protect other people from.

That was the difference between Satoru and Suguru. Suguru would protect you even if you were digging a knife into his chest. He would protect you even if it meant turning the entire world against him. Satoru wouldn't.

If he found you before Suguru, he would exorcise you on the spot – with absolutely no remorse.

Because at the end of the day, if you were a curse, then you were no better than every other curse that he had seen. You were a danger, a hazard, a posing threat to all non-Jujutsu Sorcerers. It didn't matter what connection he had to you or what relationship he had with you; you were to be exorcised.

"Why don't we just exorcise her?" Satoru suggests, indifference seeping into his tone. Suguru turns quickly, looking at Satoru as if he had just been stabbed.

"Are you serious? Satoru, we can't just--"

"She's a curse Suguru. It'll be the exact same as any other mission that we've gone on," Satoru points out, ignoring Suguru's pointed glare as the pair wanders further into the alleyway. "She can't be that strong, you've never trained her with the use of Cursed Energy."

Suguru remains silent, looking around the nooks and crannies of the alleyway as if you would be hiding in any of them. Satoru follows closely behind, though he doesn't put as much effort into finding you.

"Don't rope her into the same group as those other curses," Suguru says, turning and sending Satoru a warning glare, "she's nothing like them."

From somewhere deep in the alleyway, both of the males hear a drawn out "aww".

Suguru turns, eyes widening as he tries to locate where the sound had come from. He knew that voice, he knew that voice, of course he knew that voice.

Satoru pauses, the arms that were once crossed over his chest unfolding as he follows Suguru's gaze, also trying to locate where the sound had come from. A whisper in his ear tells him to look upward, and so he does.

There, sitting in the darkness, is you. Your legs dangle over the fire escape of the accompanying apartment building, arm lifting in a friendly wave as you gaze down at both Suguru and Satoru – both of whom remain silent at the sight of you.

"Did you both come here to exorcise me?" Your voice is as sickly sweet as it always had been, though this time it's tinged with a second emotion, one that neither male is able to correctly put their finger on. Was it malice? Or was it a twisted sense of joy over being found?

"No (Y/N). We came here to help you--"

"No you didn't!" you're quick to cut him off, standing from your place on the fire exit and smiling widely. "I just heard you both. I may be a curse, but I'm not completely dense."

Neither of them answer you, but you can see that they desperately want to. You wonder if they pause because they don't know what to say or if what they want to say would only fuel your already burning anger.

"(Y/N)--"

"How will you do it?"

Suguru pauses, staring up at you. He swallows – he knows what you're referring to. You're wondering if he'll absorb you just like he would any other curse, or if he would exorcise you in a more traditional matter. You wonder if your off-colored blood would stain his hands and if he would stare at it the same way that you had stared at the young girl's blood on your own hands.

Satoru looks down at his feet, ignoring the uncomfortable tingle in his bones as his nails dig into the palms of his hands. He grits his teeth, willing himself to remain silent even though he so desperately wants to bite out an angered comment to you. He wants to yell at you for deceiving him, for making him believe that you were human – that you could be trusted.

And oddly enough, he doesn't. His urge to remain silent wins, and so stay silent is exactly what he does.

"(Y/N), I'm not going to exorcise you," Suguru says reassuringly, trying his best to coax you down from your place above him. You tilt your head at him, eyes sparkling as you silently will him to continue. Maybe his argument would be good enough, but it would most likely be the exact opposite.

"Yes you are," you bite back, tone bitter and dead. Suddenly you aren't as sweet as you were before, replaced instead by a persona that neither Suguru nor Satoru had seen before. Whatever curse you were, you had discovered it, and you were embracing it in a tight hug that nobody would be able to pry you from.

That's right, remind them.

"I'm just wondering how you're going to do it."

Suguru shakes his head again, his voice catching in his throat. He knows that he's going to have to exorcise you, not even because of protocol but because of the safety of every non-Jujutsu Sorcerer. Though he doesn't want to believe it, anyone could see as plain as day, you were dangerous.

You had killed a young girl without so much as a blink of your eye. Her blood on your hands meant nothing to you, you had glanced down at your stained palms with a glint of interest instead of disgust. You looked down at her body like it was nothing but a squashed ant on the ground.

Who was to say that you wouldn't kill again with that same lack of remorse?

"I'm not going to exorcise you," Suguru says again. You tilt your head, you know that he doesn't sound sincere, but at the same time he does. "I...can't exorcise you."

You smile, eyes folding at the corners as smile lines indent your forehead. You stand from your place atop the fire escape, though you make no notion to make your way down to where both sorcerers stand. It's tempting, you could fight them and prove your strength; but it would most likely end with you being exorcised anyway.

They were Special-Grade sorcerers after all, and you had no idea what grade level you fell into. All you knew was that you had the ability to make people disappear...or rather...make portions of them disappear into bloody heaps.

"Suguru," Satoru says warningly, already readying his body for a flurry of attacks. If he had to fight you, he wouldn't hold back. To him, you were nothing but a curse, but this time, he knew your name.

"Wait."

Satoru pauses, watching as Suguru takes a brave step towards the fire escape, looking up its ladder to maintain eye contact with you. You peer curiously down at him, trusting him.

His heart thuds in his ears as you slowly descend the ladder, pausing just a few steps above Suguru and glancing down your nose at him. Your hands hold the metal steps of the ladder, fingers curled tightly around the rusted metal as you remain silent, keeping Suguru's gaze.

"You haven't answered me," you say quietly, your voice bordering on a whisper, "how are you going to exorcise me?"

Suguru shakes his head again, blinking away the tears that cling to his waterline – a result of him keeping his eyes open for a prolonged period of time. He knows that he has to, but he doesn't want to.

Was this the sacrifice of a Jujutsu Sorcerer?

He's still going to exorcise you.

You watch through widened eyes as Suguru's hand lays flat against your chest, fingers bunching up the front of your shirt and tugging you forward roughly. Before you're able to react, everything goes dark. Your vision closes it on itself, the last thing you see being Suguru's tear-filled eyes staring back at you, a desperate "I'm sorry" caught in his throat – never to be uttered.

Satoru lifts his head at the sudden silence that falls over the alleyway, eyes widening as he notices the ball curled between Suguru's fingers. You're no longer standing on the ladder of the fire escape.

It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what had happened.

"Suguru," Satoru begins, taking a hesitant step towards Suguru. The raven-haired male only shakes his head, glancing down at the ball in his hand before he hesitantly opens his jaw. He wonders if maybe it wouldn't taste like a wet rag, but he knows that it will. All curses do.

< … >

"Hey, there you are," Shoko says with a smile, shifting her cigarette from one side of her mouth to the other as she walks to Suguru's side, hoisting herself up to sit on the windowsill in front of him. He turns to her, returning her softened smile with one of his own.

"Sorry, was I keeping you waiting?"

Shoko shakes her head, pinching her cigarette between her fingers and blowing out a small cloud of smoke. She turns her head to glance out of the window, squinting at the sunlight that filters in through the glass panes. "No, I figured you wouldn’t be keen on hanging out with everyone just yet."

Suguru hums, taking the cigarette that Shoko offers him, its end still burning with that orange hue that he had always found beautiful. He takes it between his lips, inhaling and ignoring the burn that the smoke in his lungs gives off.

"Just don't shut us out for good, yeah?" Shoko glances at Suguru, eyebrows raising. He chuckles at her, smoke pouring from his parted lips as he returns the cigarette to her fingers. "She was just as important to us as she was to you."

Suguru sighs, through his nose, turning his head to glance out of the window. On one of the branches of a nearby tree, a crow rests comfortably, its head tilted to absorb the evening sun, soaking it in. It shakes off its feathers, then turning to look through the window, eyes locking with those of Suguru's.

He stares back at it, blinking once before he returns to reality, half-listening to the story that Shoko had been telling him.

"Listen to me for a minute," Shoko says, reaching a hand out and comfortingly squeezing Suguru's knee. He gazes quietly at her, wondering what it is that she wanted to say. "(Y/N) meant a lot to all of us. But you did the right thing in exorcising her. Who knows what she would've done if we just let her walk around freely?"

"Was it my fault that she turned out the way that she did?"

Shoko shakes her head quickly, throwing her cigarette down onto the floor and turning her foot to extinguish it with her toe. Her lips turn upward in another soft smile, this one reassuring.

"If anything, it was the textbook's fault that she turned out the way that she did," Shoko says, her voice a mixture of serious and teasing.

She notices the way that Suguru's expression doesn't change. His eyebrows are still pinched together in a way that displays his guilt – his regret over not being able to help you. His eyes are hollow, sullen. His irises speak a thousand words even though his lips utter nothing.

She notices the way that his hands subconsciously clench into white-knuckled fists at the mere mention of your name. He had cared so much about you, in his eyes you could do no wrong. But to then have you become what you had...she couldn't imagine the pain that Suguru felt in his chest when she whispered your name.

"Geto," she says, smiling as his head snaps to force his gaze on her, "it was never your fault that (Y/N) became what she did."

The hand that rests on his knee pats it once, twice, three times. Just enough to comfort Suguru enough for him to momentarily forget about the guilt he felt over absorbing you.

"We can remember her for what she was before...everything. There's nothing wrong with that."

Suguru nods, smiling at the memory of your warmth and joy. How pure it was, how it radiated off of you as if you were the embodiment of the sun. In his memory, you weren't a bloodthirsty curse...

...you were always going to be (Y/N).

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