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seeingivy · 3 days

Text

sweet irony

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

**part of my best friend's older brother fic

previous part linked here

you stare down at your phone – the picture of you and sukuna cheesing into the camera staring back at you – as the quiet pulsating starts teeming in your head.

he’s dead. you’ve wished him dead for years, hundreds of times in passing, and now he’s actually dead.

and now you’ll have to tell yuuji.

you take a beat before walking back into the sweltering hot air of the bar, the blaring music making your heart race as you push through the crowd. and it takes you twenty minutes before you reach the table where yuuji is again, standing still to watch as he leans his head against megumi on the stool, while nobara finishes off the last of his drink.

you can’t help but pause, your heart sinking into the deepest pits of dread, as he digs the cherry in the drink out of the ice, as you walk up to his side, shaking at his shoulder.

your dad is dead.

“hey, you’re back! do you want the another?” yuuji asks, the stem of the cherry sticking out of the side of his mouth as he holds a shot glass in front of your face, almost tauntingly,

“no, no. um –”

your dad is dead. your piece of shit dad is dead and you have to leave.

you take the glass from him, accidentally slamming it down too hard on the table to the point where it shatters, as yuuji looks over at you, eyes wide. there’s a quiet gasp as almost everyone around you gives you a weary look, before turning back to their own conversations.

you look down at your hand, the smallest amount of crimson red staring back at you, as you ball your hand into a fist and ignore it.

“jesus. you okay, she-hulk?” he asks.

you look back up at him.

“yeah, it’s fine. we have to go home.” you respond.

“what? don’t tell me you’re going to start being a bore now that you’re old. we just got here and we’re not leaving until sukuna is dragging all four of us out on our asses.” yuuji responds, earning him a laugh and a smile from nobara and megumi.

“just come with me. we can talk on the way.” you respond, reaching for his wrist as you start pulling.

“we’re celebrating your birthday! after someone ruined it, mind you…” yuuji jokes, pulling you back towards the table.

“shut up! how was i supposed to know that maki and mai were going to make a scene?” nobara mutters.

“you literally started the fight, nobara.” megumi mutters.

“and i apologized for that!” nobara responds, reaching over to flick megumi in the side of the forehead.

you place your hand on yuuji’s bicep, squeezing hard, as you feel hot tears in your eyes and an almost soreness in your throat – knowing that whatever you say next is irrevocably about to change something for him as you lean forward.

“yuuji. your dad passed away, we…we have to go.”

megumi and nobara turn their heads, the former spilling the drink in his glass all over the table.

“what?” yuuji asks.

yuuji subconsciously pulls his arm back, eyes incredulous as he looks down at you.

“yuuji. really, i…”

“what did you just say?” megumi asks.

“i…i don’t know how it happened, sukuna was so brief on the phone when he asked us to come that..”

“wait, what?” nobara says.

“sukuna. he called me and asked me to bring yuuji back. or both of us, i don’t..”

you watch as yuuji digs his phone out of his pocket – a plethora of calls from both sukuna and his mom shining on his screen – as he scrolls through the texts, before he looks back up at you and swallows hard.

“i had more to drink than you did.” he responds, his voice stiff as gravel.

the look in his eyes is haunting. his dad is dead.

“i’ll bring the car around.” you respond.

“megumi. go with her. sukuna would kill me if he found out i let her walk out there alone.” yuuji responds, his focus halfhearted as he looks down at his phone, dialing his mom’s number as he presses the phone against his ear.

his dad is dead. he needs a second.

megumi gives you a curt nod before linking in his arm with yours and pushing his way through the crowd, uncharacteristically rough as the two of you run out the doors. and you’re both speed walking down the block, hands shaking as you pull open the doors of the car, and shove the key into the engine.

“oh god, his mom is probably losing her shit. she’s going to be a mess when we get there, megumi.” you mutter.

you pull out of the spot, fighting the urge to honk at the hounds of pedestrians that cross, as you nervously twiddle your fingers on the wheel.

“sukuna’s probably there, alone, right now.” you mumble.

you feel your throat dry.

“i hope that…that his dad’s not still there when we get there. i don’t even..”

“i’m not coming.” he whispers..

you accidentally push the break too hard and the car jolts, shooting megumi an apologetic smile as one of the groups of pedestrians flip you off.

megumi notes that what he said came out a little more harshly than he intended it to, but it’s only because of his frustration, and what the questions he knows are going to follow after.

“what? of course you are, he’s…”

“i mean, i can’t.”

you frown.

“of course, you can. in fact, you should. he’s your boyfriend.”

it takes a split second for you to realize why yuuji’s always so defensive when it comes to you and sukuna. surely megumi can’t be serious.

“y/n.”

“megumi. you spend like every waking second with the guy. what’s your issue now?” you seethe.

“i’m not going to make things more complicated by meeting his mom for the first time on the night she became a widow, y/n.” megumi responds.

you swallow hard, the soreness in your throat making your eyes water, as you give him a nod and clench the steering wheel so hard that it makes your skin nearly break.

of course that’s why he couldn’t go. you’re an idiot.

the stinging on your palm from the glass only gets worse as you pull up outside the bar, and honk twice for good measure.

“one thing, y/n.” megumi states.

“what?”

“i know that sukuna is your person. but yuuji’s mine. please don’t forget to be there for him too.” he begs.

you reach forward, squeezing megumi’s hand in yours.

“of course i won’t forget about him. i’ll send you updates, okay?” you whisper.

he gives you a nod as yuuji and nobara come tumbling out of the front door a few minutes later, nobara pressing him into a hard hug before letting ago, and rubbing at her biceps in the cold. and it gets even worse as you watch megumi and yuuji – being so openly affectionate while not being black out drunk for the first time – as they lean their foreheads against each others, before kissing goodbye.

the entire car shifts as yuuji sits in the car, eyes teary and sniffling as he looks over at you, and nods.

“let’s go.”

it feels wrong to leave megumi behind, but you do it anyway.

it takes an hour and a half to get there. yuuji’s uncharacteristically quiet, leaning his head against the glass of the window, as you try to drive as fast as you can on the highway. your headache, the dread, the stinging in your hand – it all seemed to get worse as time goes on, as you get closer to your house, and to whatever’s waiting for you.

halfway through you offer yuuji your uninjured hand, which he takes, and doesn’t let go of as the two of you walk to the porch.

“wait.” yuuji whispers.

“what? what is it?”

yuuji pauses, heaving a sigh before he looks at you, eyes watery.

“i want one more second of normal before…before i…”

“of course, yuuji.” you mumble back, leaning forward to tuck yourself into his embrace, his arms shaking as he wraps them around you.

and you get what he means – you can feel your heart sink as you hear the raised voices, and what you’re sure is mrs. itadori’s wailing, as you squeeze yuuji harder.

“you’re always so warm, y/n.” yuuji mumbles.

you give him a smile as you pull back and ring on the doorbell. and it’s a split second before

sammy swings the door open, eyes wide as she wraps her arms around yuuji first.

“hey kid. you okay?” she murmurs.

“yeah, sam..”

“the moms and sukuna are in the dining room. go, go.” she whispers, rubbing his back once more for good measure before pushing him in the right direction.

and then sammy looks back at you, giving you a smile, before she immediately crumbles into a mess of tears.

“holy shit, y/n. i’m so fucking glad you’re here.”

you open up your arms, taken aback by the mess of her braid and the state she’s in, as she tucks herself into your neck, her tears spilling onto your skin. and you rub circles into her back in unison with her panting breaths, before gesturing for her to explain.

“he just collapsed out of nowhere. i was in the fucking bathroom for gods sake and i just heard them shouting before…before mrs. itadori literally screamed bloody murder…i just came out and..” she whispers.

you squeeze her a little bit harder, her cries getting stifled into your shoulder as you whisper into her ear, trying to calm her down.

“sammy.” you whisper.

“his pulse was gone. i did cpr for twenty minutes before they got here and they said there was nothing i could have done. i’m a fucking nurse, for fucks sake, and i just…i don’t even…”

“you did what you could have.” you murmur.

you can tell that she doesn’t believe you. and that she’s in some kind of shock from the way her eyes are so lifeless – the only thing convincing you that she's still really there with you being the quiet breaths that leave her mouth.

after ten minutes of holding her, she pulls back, wiping at her nose.

“i can’t believe he’s dead.” she mutters miserably.

“me too.”

“is…am i shitty for being upset? he’s an asshole but…but he was around for so long and well –”

“no, sammy. we’ve known him forever.” you affirm. .

“you should check on sukuna, by the way. they asked him questions for a while when he got here, because…because mrs. itadori and i were too hysterical. mom helped but she didn’t know most of the stuff and..”

you wonder if he had been afforded time to cry yet. though you knew how these things go and that somehow, he’d be the last one to get the privilege to process it all.

“okay, come on.” you respond, the two of you linking your arms together as you walk into the dining room.

you feel your heart pinch as you walk into the dining room – at the sight of both mrs. itadori and yuuji crying – with sukuna’s hand slung across yuuji’s chair. there’s an almost…gaunt look on sukuna’s face, devoid of any emotion, as he only locks his eyes with yours in recognition, before turning his attention back to yuuji.

you give a small wave to your own mother, who gives you a halfhearted smile, before placing a she places a glass of water in front of yuuji and mrs. itadori, and taking the seats next to them.

sammy’s crying at your side again, quietly muffling her own tears into your shoulder, as you squeeze at her side, before setting her down in the chair before leaving to get her water. and it’s only in the kitchen that you realize that the inner part of your hand is a bloody mess, with the stained red going all the way down to your wrist, as you walk over to the sink.

“what happened?”

you nearly jump to find sukuna at your side, leaning over your shoulder as he eyes the red in the sink, and you can’t help but wrap your arms around him, the wetness dripping onto his shirt.

he doesn’t hug back. he’s softens underneath you, his shoulders less stiff, but he doesn’t hug back.

“nothing. it was just a glass back at the bar. you…what happened to you? are you okay? what can i do to help because i know that…”

sukuna leans back, offering you a halfhearted smile, before reaching for the closest drawer and pulling a glass box of bandages and alcohol wipes out.

“let me clean it.”

you frown before holding your hand out for him, watching as he quietly opens the packet, and gently cleans the area, before wrapping it in a white bandage. and when he touches the inner portion of your wrist, he looks up at you before placing the back of his hand against your forehead.

“you’re running hot.” he states.

“it’s warm in here.” you respond.

“it’s not. you’re getting a cold.”

yuuji’s comment from earlier makes sense now. you sigh, noting the soreness in your throat feeling almost swollen now, as you shake your head at him.

“really. what can i do to help? i know this is a lot and…” you mumble.

you’re unable to place the expression on sukuna’s face. it’s almost like he cringes.

“i’m right here.”

“can you stay with yuuji?” he asks.

you pause.

“what?”

that’s not what you had in mind.

“we have to do the funeral sooner than later. saturday is our best bet with everyone having work off so i have to pull shit together, really fast. and i can do it, but…but not while dealing with both of them. can you stay with him? please?”

the question dies on your tounge. what about you?

“yeah, of course i can, but –”

sukuna nods, before placing a bottle of nyquil in your uninjured hand.

“take this twice a day.” he responds, squeezing your shoulder once as he retreats back out to the main room.

you don’t see sukuna for two days. or well, you do, but he’s always preoccupied. not really there. on the phone with the funeral planner, comforting his mom, or dealing with the hospital bills and belongings that were left behind.

he declines your offer to sleep with him, because he sleeps on the floor in his moms room. he doesn’t eat the breakfast you because he has to go pick out the flowers – and doesn’t make any jokes about how he’d save himself from the food poisoning before eating your food.

it’s just as well you suppose, because you really do get a fever, and staying with yuuji takes up enough of your time.

unlike the former – a solid fortress of almost nothing – yuuji swings between two moods, either being awfully quiet and insatiably angry.

you’re not sure which one is better. the lack of babbling from yuuji is haunting in every situation – but it’s so hard to discern what it is that he’s feeling that sometimes all you can do is crawl into his bed with him and stare at the ceiling together.

you were half convinced that it did nothing until the second day, when yuuji offered you a thank you for the silence before trotting off to shower.

the anger is a little bit easier to handle. only because whatever it is that he is feeling comes pouring out of his mouth so freely that you’re at least able to pinpoint what it is that makes him mad.

that he’s dead. that he died without changing. that he won’t ever change and that in the grand scheme of things, yuuji’s history will always be murked by a shitty, homophobic asshole.

“he’s such a fucking prick.” yuuji mutters, angrily slamming the door of his closet, as you readjust on his bed.

was. he was such a prick.

“and why the fuck is my mom crying so much? god knows how many bottles of wine she’s fucking drank trying to temper the fucking rage he filled her with. she should be happy that she doesn’t have to deal with him anymore.”

yuuji looks over at you, quickly handing you the tissue that you were reaching for, before returning to his rant.

“like grow a fucking spine. she’s making sukuna do everything. he’s only fucking twenty-five, for fucks sake. all i’ve watched her do is fucking ball her eyes out and lie down on that god damn couch while he plans the entire funeral and spends lal day calling god knows who.”

yuuji’s nervous pacing makes the jacket of his suit fall off of the hanger, his irritation clearly getting worse, as you lift your hands, gesturing for him to take a seat as you reach for it. you lift it off the floor, sling it back onto the hanger and make a mental note to steam the crease before the funeral tomorrow, before turning back to him and taking a seat at his side.

you lean your head on his shoulder, as he brings his hand up to your hair, tangling through the knots.

“i wish megumi could be here.” he mumbles, voice quiet.

“me too. i…sammy and i actually talked to your mom about it and..” you start.

“i know. sukuna told me.”

yuujji pauses, running his fingers over the pink skin on your palm, before sighing.

“it’s nice but, he’d probably roll over in his grave if megumi came.” yuuji states.

“he’d probably get out of his casket just to yell at you one more time.” you mutter.

yuuji laughs, the sound making you smile.

“and then he’d see you sitting in between me and sukuna and slut shame you one last time for good measure.” he adds.

“and then probably have a second heart attack when he sees sammy sitting there with mai.”

the two of you stare at each other blankly before bursting out into laughter, albeit a little bit too uncontrollably, as you reach to shut the door to stop everyone else from hearing.

“oh my god. i fucking forgot about that. he’d probably have an aneurysm if he found out sammy was bi.”

“he would fully go into septic shock. he’d probably something strangely homoerotic and spend twenty minutes trying to convince her that everyone was a little gay.”

“holy shit! i totally forgot he said that. and then he’d somehow blame me for it. like i made her gay somehow by rubbing it off on her.”

you snort.

“and naturally, he’d start yelling at our moms too. saying that they let us all be a little too wild when we were kids and that’s why we’re all ungrateful..” you add.

“i believe his preferred term of endearment was ungrateful little assholes. and don’t kid yourself, according to him, the root of all evil can – and always will be – traced back to me. ”

the two of you turn your heads to the doorway, to where sukuna’s standing. you jolt up at the sight of him, his eyes red and tired, as you look up at him, giving him a smile.

“hi sukuna. how are –”

sukuna sticks the back of his hand against your forehead, clearly bothered by how warm you’re still running, before dropping his hand. his fingertips trail down your skin, the length of your elbow to your fingers, before he presses the bottle into your hand.

“antibiotic for five days. if you still feel bad, then an extra two days.” he states, holding the water out in front of you.

it’s the same as the time yuuji punched you. he’s uncharacteristically inexpressive, but still attentive.

“when did you have time to go?”

“i had to get his clothes from the hospital. and his phone and the car keys, they were all in his pocket.”

“thank you. do need anything from me?”

“still have nyquill?”

he avoids the conversation, like he always does, in the rare seconds you’re allowed to speak to him.. you pretend it doesn’t sting.

“yes.”

sukuna leans forward, tucking the stray hairs behind your ear, before turning to yuuji.

“day after tomorrow, up at six both of you. the funeral starts at seven and we’ll be back here after for the condolences.”

“got it.” yuuji responds and you nod.

sukuna disappears as fast as he showed up.

and while you felt like you were isolated in the feeling – that he was slipping away, on another planet from you when he was only two doors down – you and yuuji talk about it the night before the funeral.

“does it bother you?” yuuji asks.

you can’t sleep the night before and neither can he – the two of you cramped up in his tiny bed and staring at the tiny glow in the dark stars you pressed to the ceiling years prior. they’re peeling off, half of them already having fell into the crevices between the bed in the wall years ago.

“your dad?” you murmur.

“no. sukuna.”

“what do you mean?”

“does it bother you that he won’t let you help him?” yuuji asks.

you sigh, mulling over the thought in your head. of course it bothers you. you felt like you were failing the most important test.

“i’m not saying that in a shit talking type of way. i just meant…as an observation. as a friend.” yuuji adds.

you smile.

“i know. i guess it does. i just feel like we made really good progress and that…that i’d at least tumbled down most of his walls. but every time i see him, it kind of feels like they’re back up. maybe even worse than before.”

“what do you mean?”

“he was always a little reserved but it didn’t take much to get him to open up. he’d always give in when i asked. but he just kind of brushes me off now. i’m not mad about it, because i understand, but i wish i could just do more.” you respond.

yuuji readjusts, leaning over on his side, to look at you. and you mimic his actions till the two of you are facing each other, cheeks pressed into the pillows as you try to make out the features of his face.

“don’t take it personally.” yuuji responds.

you sigh.

“really. in my experience, he…he’s never been able to let go until things are fully settled.”

“that’s what scares me. your dad isn’t going to stop being dead.” you whisper.

yuuji nods.

“he won’t leave you.”

“i know that. i just need him to come back to me.” you respond.

yuuji readjusts under the sheets. there’s a quiet beat before he talks again.

“will you stand with us at the condolences tomorrow? i think he’d like it if you were nearby. and god knows i need someone to stand there with me.”

“of course, i will.”

almost every person you’ve ever known seems to cycle through their house the next day. the funeral was crowded and you luckily for you, you were stuck for the most part, with sammy on one side and yuuji on the other, so you were able to avoid it.

but the house was different. in a swimming sea of black, you and yuuji have awkward sets of interactions every few minutes. your third grade teacher, the hostess who kicked the two of you out of the sushi restaurant once, and the weird guy who gets drunk every thursday at the district.

this town was way too small.

yuuji sees nobara at the door, giving you a go ahead to go find where sukuna was lingering, as you start making your way through the halls. and it takes a few minutes, but you find him in the kitchen, tucking the envelopes and letters into the drawer as he reaches for his tie and loosens the knot.

“hi.”

you watch as he immediately stiffens, sharply turning his head to the left, before releasing.

“oh. hey. i thought you were someone else.”

“nope! just little old me.” you respond.

sukuna pauses, slowly closing the drawer, before turning to you and cupping the side of your face. you welcome the touch – your chest panging at how long it’s been since you’ve even seen him, let alone touched him – before pressing a kiss to his palm.

“do you feel better?” he asks

“yeah. thank you.”

he gives you a halfhearted smile, before dropping his hands down your back and securing his hand around your waist. you lean into his touch, pressing your cheek to his shoulder, and taking in the scent of his cologne.

“i have to go back out.” he mumbles.

“i know.” you respond.

he looks down at you, giving you a smile, before pressing a kiss to your forehead. you give him a smile, before he leans down and squints his eyes at you.

“been far too long since i’ve kissed you, hasn’t it?”

“what?”

“you’re blushing. and i just kissed your forehead.”

you laugh, lightly trying to shove him away. but he’s too fast, hands on your waist before he leans forward, fully smiling this time and pulling you closer. it’s the first one you’ve seen in days. it makes your heart ache.

“it’s normal to blush when your boyfriend kisses you.” you defend.

he shakes his head, playfully poking at the side of your cheek before dropping his hand.

“you’re always greedy. so greedy that you got so used to it. i usually have to rile you up in five different ways before i see that pretty flush creep down your neck.”

“you’re a pervert. read the room.”

sukuna rolls his eyes.

“i am reading the room. you and i are the only ones in it.” he deadpans.

“every person we know is outside.” you whisper.

“come on. one kiss and i’ll go back.” he whispers back.

“sukuna.”

“please.”

you roll your eyes before placing both of your hands on his cheeks and leaning forward. and as many comments as you made about reading the room and trying to deny it, you’re way too excited to lean forward – nearly smacking your nose into his – as you lock your lips with his.

but it’s nothing like you expected.

because while he was joking a few minutes prior, the kiss is so soft, dripping with longing that it takes you by surprise. it reminded you of the quiet moments – when he’d trace the freckles on your cheek or press kisses to your knuckles before bed – so overwhelming, so intimate that you felt like he had creeped up inside of you.

when you flicker your eyes open, his eyes are filled with tears.

“i’m sorry for avoiding you.” he whispers.

“that’s okay, you…”

“i knew this would happen if i was around you for too long.” he responds.

you pause, taken aback by his words.

“what?”

“i wouldn’t be able to keep it together.” he responds, voice cracking as the tears start spilling down his cheeks.

you frown, reaching forward to wipe the wetness away.

“you don’t have to keep it together.” you whisper.

“we both know i do.” he responds, his gaze wavering to the floor.

you feel your heart drop, at the mere premise, before pressing yourself closer to him, feeling him sag nearly his entire weight onto you. he presses a kiss on your shoulder that makes you shiver.

“can we please talk when we go home? just a few more days before…”

“yeah. just you and me, okay?”

he nods, lifting your hands against his lips to press a kiss to your knuckles.

"don't be hurt if I avoid you."

"you could never hurt me. i know whatever you do, there's a reason for it."

sukuna groans, before leaning forward to press a lingering kiss to your cheek.

"you're perfect, you know that?"

you give him a teasing grin, before shrugging.

"i can't help it." you joke.

he smiles, before leaning forward to press another kiss to your lips.

“make me a promise.” he whispers, a slight strain in his voice.

“okay.”

he swallows hard.

“you can’t die.”

you lean back, pressing your hand into the softness of his hair, before looking at his brown eyes, so full and expectant as they wait for an answer.

“of course not.”

“you’d take me right with you if you did. you can’t.” he begs.

you give him a smile.

“i won’t. i promise, ryomen.” you respond, reaching forward to cross on his heart.

he gives you a shaky sigh, before nodding and pressing one last kiss to your cheek before exiting back out.

and you thank your lucky stars. he came back.

you smack nobara in the back of the head when you make your way back to her and yuuji. because not only are yuuji and nobara nursing two glasses of red wine, but they’re also emptying her trusty hot pink flash into the glass when people aren’t looking.

“are you insane?” you whisper.

“do you want a sip?” yuuji asks.

you immediately take the glass from his hand, earning you laughs from the two of them, as the three of you lean against the wall, watching everyone mill around the room. as irritating as the guy was, mr. itadori was really only all types of heinous and horrible with those closest to them.

to the community, it was a grave loss. and there wasn’t a dry eye in the room – except from the three people it was probably expected from the most.

you could hear the whispers. they were so strong. you fight the urge to laugh in their faces. it was the understatement of the century.

sammy joins you on the wall after an hour of mingling, an awkward jostle between her and nobara, before the two of them were sharing their glasses and muttering under their breaths about how insane maki and mai were.

“funerals are weird.” yuuji mumbles, leaning his head against yours.

“how so?”

“these two idiots were fighting at your birthday like a week ago. and no one’s even batting an eye that mr. johnson is sitting with his mistress while his wife gets drunk in the corner.”

“that’s not his mistress. she was blonde.”

“bold of you to assume there was only one.”

you shiver in disgust, earning you a laugh from yuuji, as you finish off the last of his glass. except that’s right when sukuna walks up to you, eyes panicked as he takes the glass from your hand and sets it on the table.

“hey baby.” he whispers.

“hi sukuna. want some of our conc –”

“whatever happens, i’m right here, okay?” he says, the tone in his voice urgent.

you laugh, looking over to give yuuji a weird look, only to find that he’s staring past sukuna’s shoulder, swallowing hard.

“huh? i don’t follow.”

sukuna pinches his eyes shut, almost like he’s pained, before moving to your side, when you finally see it. he squeezes your hand so hard you think he might have broken it.

you suppose it’s ironic.

yuuji and sukuna’s shitty dad is dead. and your deadbeat one is standing four feet away from you, with two little girls at his side.

next part linked here

an: yolo.

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moonstruckme · 3 days

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hi! What about a fic if one of the Mauraders or TASM peter with a reader who's insecure about her big boobs? Like ik everyone thinks it's ideal but honestly sometimes it really sucks when shirts don't fit right or everything looks slutty or u can't go braless or alternatively a fic about their gf overhearing someone say they r an ass man but she has a small butt?

Thank you for requesting!

cw: insecurity around breast size

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

You’re looking in the mirror, and you want to feel good about yourself. Really, everything looks the way it should. Your hair looks better than it would on an average day, that new eyeshadow thing you tried actually turned out nicely, and your dress fits the way it’s supposed to.

Just, the way it’s supposed to fit doesn’t really seem right to you at the moment.

“Peter,” you call in the direction of the bathroom, “if I ask you about something, can you promise to be honest with me?”

You hear water splash in the shower, signaling your boyfriend is finally rinsing out his hair. In classic Peter fashion, he seems like he’s going to be late to his own banquet. Oscorp is having a formal event to recognize the achievements of their scientists this year. Peter’s done even more than most, and he’s expected to give a speech before the food comes out which you’ll be lucky to make at this rate. You were supposed to get ready together, but he’d spent the majority of the time flirting with you while you did your makeup in your pajamas.

“Duh, I’m always honest,” he calls back. The shower shuts off. “That’s why they call me your friendly, honest, neighborhood spider-man.” A pause. You wonder if he can sense the dry look you’re sending his way. “Fine, but I’m always honest with you. Shoot, sweetheart.”

“Okay.” You give yourself one final, disappointed look-over in the mirror before heading towards the bathroom door. “I’m serious, don’t sugarcoat anything, but do you think—”

The door swings open, and Peter’s right in front of you, beads of water still visible on his torso and a towel wrapped around his waist.

“—this is too slutty?” you finish, quieter, right as he blurts, “Oh my god.”

Peter blinks. His head does a tiny shake, as if trying to rid himself of a dizzy spell. “What?” he asks.

Probably not your best phrasing. “I just mean, is it too booby,” you try again. You have the urge to tuck your arms around your middle self-consciously, but you worry that would only make the boob predicament worse.

“Baby.” Peter’s still looking at you like you’re speaking another language. “What?”

You look down at your highly visible cleavage, then back up at him. “You know what I mean,” you say softly.

“Okay, speaking from a strictly male standpoint,” Peter says, unabashed as his eyes dip to where yours just where, “I can’t condone the idea that there is such a thing as too booby. But even if I was, like, a ninety-five year old conservative woman, I couldn’t—I would still think you look beautiful.”

Your heart balloons. It’s not a compliment you got much before you met Peter. Hot, sexy, sure, but not beautiful.

“God.” The word slips from your boyfriend’s mouth so softly it almost sounds like a prayer. His hands find your waist, skimming down the satiny material of your dress to rest on your hips. “You’re amazing, sweetheart. Is that the eyeshadow trick you were talking about?”

You nod, cheeks burning. “You watched me do it.”

“It looks different with the dress on,” he agrees. “Fuck. Not to be corny, but you’re seriously taking my breath away. I can’t breathe right now.”

A little laugh stutters out of you, and Peter smiles. He’s looking rather breathtaking himself, fresh-faced from the shower with a piece of damp hair still clinging to his forehead. You unstick it and comb it back in with the others already fluffed up after being toweled off. He smells like his shampoo.

“Can I kiss you,” he asks, “or will I mess up your makeup?”

“Be careful,” you warn, smiling as you lean in.

He is, but his hands give away his hunger, bunching in the fabric at the base of your spine to get you closer. He makes a low, needy sound in the back of his throat, and for half a second you wonder if it’s for your benefit but then you remember that he was right earlier. Peter is always honest with you.

You laugh when you pull away, going to get a bit of tissue paper to blot away the lipstick you’ve left on him. A glance in the bathroom mirror shows that yours is, thankfully, intact.

“Are you sure this dress will be appropriate?” you ask, less insecure now but still nervous as you wipe at Peter’s upper lip. “Regardless of how much you like it, it’s still a formal thing and I don’t want to be…indecent.” You cringe. There’s no word that sounds nice.

Your boyfriend’s brows furrow. His hands skim up your arms, and he looks like he’s about to reply when you fold the toilet paper and stick it between his lips. “Blot,” you murmur.

He does. “Baby.” He squeezes your upper arms, a silent request for you to look up at his eyes. You find them soft and earnest. “There’s nothing inappropriate about what you’re wearing. It is a formal thing, and you’re wearing a formal dress. You look beautiful.” That word again. Your cheeks burn. Peter kisses one of them. “No one is going to have anything to say about how you look other than how beautiful you are,” he promises.

You let the sincerity of his words seep into you, pooling like a warm drink in your belly. The inside of your lip finds its way between your teeth. Now you’re feeling bashful for other reasons.

It’s obvious by Peter’s grin that he can tell. He gives your arms another squeeze before moving you out of the way and going to where his clothes are laid out on the bed.

“Actually, that’s pretty convenient for me.” He discards the towel on the floor, slipping on a pair of boxers and then starting to button up his dress shirt. “You’ve just taken a whole bunch of pressure off my speech, sweetheart. No way anyone’s gonna be looking at me while I’m up there.”

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saintobio · 3 hours

Text

blank canvas. (3)

in an attempt to rekindle an already fractured relationship, you open your eyes to the harsh reality that some things, once broken, can no longer be repaired.

pairings. ryōmen sukuna, fem!reader

genre. florist x tattoo artist au, mild angst, opposites attract

tags/warnings. strong language, explicit smut, toxic relationship

notes. 8.3k wc. here’s the last part !! although there will still be an epilogue, which will be posted a few days from now (let’s not jinx it lol). but thank you for supporting this three-part fic :’) feedback and reblogs are most appreciated!

part 2 | epilogue

He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me not.

Sighing, you stood behind the counter of your floral shop, absentmindedly picking on the rose petals like an infatuated teenager. It was almost ridiculous what you were doing out of boredom. And although the sweet scent of the flowers surrounding you were supposed to feel calming, it did little to lift the terrible weight on your chest.

Two weeks had passed since you had given your virginity to Satoru. Two weeks since you tried to move on from Sukuna.

Others might say you were too irrational with it. Others might say you did the right thing. But honestly, what was so good about having sex with a guy you barely knew when you spent years refusing to do it with your actual boyfriend?

Yes, you were definitely, undeniably irrational with it. You realized it all too late after you had already given your virginity to another guy. You weren’t even sure what compelled you to ask Satoru to do it with you, but at the time, it felt right. It felt reasonable that you were trying to get over an ex-boyfriend, out of spite, for not setting boundaries with other women while you were still together. You thought it would be fair to play a similar part in this tragic tale, that it wouldn’t be too bad not to set boundaries with other men who showed attraction to you, too.

After all, Sukuna had countless women constantly latching onto him, while Satoru was the first guy within your past relationship who developed an interest in you.

Besides, it wasn’t some kind of fairytale scene when you two slept together. Because to Satoru, it was nothing but a casual encounter. He did his best to make sure that you enjoyed it from finish to end, and you appreciated his sincerity in guiding you throughout, yet you couldn’t deny to yourself that all you had been thinking of at the time was Sukuna. You contrasted everything Satoru did with Sukuna—like how Satoru was slow and sensual, while Sukuna was rough and vulgar. Satoru enjoyed cuddling afterward, whereas Sukuna would likely go straight to sleep. Satoru was too clingy and playful, while Sukuna was more reserved and mature.

The worst part was, your heart still preferred one over the other. And it wasn’t the guy with the white hair and blue eyes.

Satoru was a good guy, and he had genuine intentions, but after being intimate with someone you weren’t in love with, you understood that your potential relationship would never be as good as your previous one. You longed for a man like Sukuna, because despite his typical bad boy persona, he was anything but boring. Being with him was a thrill, and no matter how toxic it was, you were addicted to him.

And that’s wrong. Your lips curled into a frown.

You glanced out the window for what felt like the hundredth time that day, your eyes drawn across the street to Sukuna’s tattoo shop. The neon sign that once buzzed with life now hung dark and lifeless. Every now and then, you could see some of his old clients passing by the shop, hoping for a chance that their favorite tattoo artist was back in business. But Sukuna still hadn’t reopened the shop in days, for almost a month now as a matter of fact, and his absence filled you with a gnawing sense of worry and longing.

They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, while that was certainly true, it also drove you crazy. Why hasn’t he opened his shop? you wondered, biting your lip. Did he move out? Did he forget about me entirely?

You turned back to your flowers, but your hands stilled as your thoughts consumed you. What would Sukuna think if he knew someone else had taken your virginity? The thought made your stomach twist. You could already hear his voice telling you that you had given yourself to someone else out of desperation, but it clearly didn’t work. If anything, it only made you miss him even more.

Your fingers traced the petals of a rose as memories flooded your mind. The way Sukuna used to look at you, his intense eyes softening just for you. The way his laugh would rumble through his chest when you said something funny. You missed him. You missed everything about him, even the way he could infuriate you with his arrogance.

A sigh escaped your lips as you placed the finished bouquet in a vase. The floral shop was quiet today, save for the distant hum of traffic outside. The city would be busy again during rush hour, but for now, you leaned against the counter, your gaze drifting back to the tattoo shop across. He’s probably with his ex, you thought, feeling a lump form in your throat. Yet you couldn’t help but wonder if he still thought about you. Did he miss me too? Or had he moved on completely?

You pressed your hand to your heart. You wanted to be with him. You wanted to tell him how much you missed him, how much you regretted trying to move on so quickly, how much you wished you didn’t break up with him. You had no backbone when it came to Sukuna. But the fear of rejection, the fear that he no longer cared, kept you rooted in place.

Pushing yourself off the counter, you walked to the front door and flipped the sign to “Closed.” It was best to close off early today. You needed a moment to yourself, a moment to clear your head in the safety of your bedroom. But as you locked the door, you couldn’t stop yourself from stealing one last glance at Sukuna’s shop. The light flickered at first, making you wonder whether you had just imagined it, but then your heart skipped a beat when you saw the lights completely turning on inside.

Your pulse quickened, and you found yourself drawn to the sight. If it was him in there, maybe this was your chance to talk and clear the air. Or maybe, it wouldn’t be wrong to simply check on him since he had been away for almost a month. What if something terrible had happened to him during those past weeks? What if he had gotten sick? With hesitant steps, you eventually crossed the street and approached his shop. There, you could see him through the window as you got closer, shirtless and his rib wrapped in a bandage, clearly covering a fresh new tattoo. In seeing your presence, he looked up, but his eyes passed over you as if you weren’t even there.

You knocked lightly on the glass door, and he glanced up again, but his expression remained indifferent, like he was trying to suppress his emotions. He didn’t move to open the door as you expected. In fact, he seemed to be arguing with himself in his head.

“Hey,” you started, your voice trembling slightly. “Can we talk?”

Sukuna didn’t respond right away when he wiped his hands on a rag, still not meeting your eyes. Your heart ached from the heavy silence, but before you could say anything more, the sound of a car engine broke the stillness of that scene.

An expensive McLaren car pulled up to the curb, and you were quick to recognize its owner.

It was Satoru rolling down his window, a bright smile on his face as he looked at you. His beam was almost blinding, distracting you from the presently awkward situation you had placed yourself in.

“Y/N,” he greeted cheerfully, completely oblivious to the tension. “Did you miss me?”

Oh, Jesus.

The words hung in the air like a bomb, and you felt the color drain from your face as you thought of how dangerous this situation would be for you. When you saw Sukuna’s eyes flicker with interest, his posture stiffened as he finally paid attention, and you realized it was too late. Way too late.

“Is that guy bothering you?” Sukuna finally asked, his voice unusually calm as he approached the door. The closer the proximity, the more your heart started to race. It was running at 250 km/h like it was on track.

Satoru’s smile then faltered, now sensing the shift in the atmosphere. It was his first time meeting Sukuna, and based on the stories you had shared with him and Suguru, he was smart enough to recognize that the tattooed man was your ex.

“I got what you asked for.” Satoru ignored Sukuna and looked back at you, holding up a small bag. “Birth control, right?”

Never in your life did you want to disappear like a puff of smoke. The sudden turn of events was so wild and unexpected. You could see that Satoru was enjoying provoking your ex-boyfriend, but the whole exchange was making you feel nauseous. The tension was so overwhelming that you couldn’t speak, or move, or do anything at all. You were simply frozen.

It was also at that time when Sukuna’s eyes narrowed, his gaze moving between you and Satoru. The pieces began to click into place, and a dark realization settled over his features. “You slept with him?” he asked, his voice low and accusatory.

“Sukuna, I…” Your breath caught in your throat because you couldn’t find the damn words to respond. Should you deny it? Should you say it wasn’t anything like that? There was no way you could get out of this situation even if you wanted to.

But Satoru stepped out of his car in your defense. “It’s none of your business what she does—”

“Shut up, you douchebag,” Sukuna snapped, his glare turning deadly. He looked at you with sharp eyes, ones filled with a mixture of hurt and fury. With the way he was glaring, you knew he was murdering you in his head. “So this is how you move on?”

Your eyes stung from the incoming tears. You wanted to explain, to tell him that you only did it out of spite, but the words just wouldn’t come. You knew it was still wrong and that it would be a huge slap to his face hearing that you had hooked up with someone else before him. You hadn’t even confirmed anything, yet the intensity of Sukuna’s gaze already made you feel like you were suffocating.

As the two men stood there, locked in a silent standoff, you recognized it as the loudest silence you had experienced in your life. That was, until Satoru broke that silence by reaching for your hand. “Let’s go,” he said gently, guiding you towards his car.

You hesitated for a moment, your eyes lingering on Sukuna, but the look of betrayal on his face was too much to bear. It was either you turn away and leave him behind or you stay there and explain to him.

Unfortunately, you didn’t have the courage to do the latter.

— —

The roar of Sukuna’s bike echoed through the night, slicing through the darkness as he raced down the highway like a motorcycle racer on a professional track. His mind was a whirl of thoughts, jealousy and rage fueling his every movement. With every thought of you, his knuckles felt cold.

Look, he wasn’t planning to pursue you after you left with that guy, but his ego just wouldn’t allow it. After piecing the situation together, something inside him just snapped. Like a timebomb. A very dangerous one. He couldn’t control his emotions, and he couldn’t just let you go like that. Damn it. Almost two years of forcing him into celibacy, and you suddenly threw yourself at a guy you just met?

He revved his motorbike, scoffing bitterly behind his helmet. He was riding recklessly, without a care to the other vehicles he almost crashed into. Fuck. He had spent nearly a month sulking over your pathetic breakup, he had tried his hardest to avoid you, when all this time, you were out there offering your virginity to some random trust fund-looking guy. How ridiculous was that? How utterly, goddamn ridiculous was it? Maybe you had just revealed your true colors right there. You had always felt uncertain about Sukuna because he had nothing but a tattoo shop and a decent motorbike. Now, you’ve met the picture-perfect guy your parents always wanted for you, so you found it easy to spread your legs open and allow some other guy’s dick inside.

You were worse than a whore.

The wind whipped against his bare chest, but he paid no mind to the cold. He didn’t care anymore. Even if the police were to chase after him, he didn’t fucking care. His focus was on the red taillights of your new guy’s McLaren car ahead of him. Sukuna pushed the throttle, his bike accelerating with a ferocious growl, causing a scene along the highway.

He mapped the situation in his head. Who was faster in this highway chase; the McLaren or his bike? While the McLaren 720 had a higher top speed, Sukuna’s Yamaha YZF-R1 was highly agile and could be more maneuverable in tight spaces. In a straight-line chase, the McLaren would eventually outpace his bike, but in scenarios involving a lot of maneuvering, he could have an advantage.

Too bad for you and your new guy though, since this highway was Sukuna’s domain. His superbike had already passed through the tightest of spaces in the midst of traffic during rush hour, so he was a clear winner here.

And in saying that, the distance between you closed rapidly, and soon he was right behind the car, the bike’s engine roaring like a beast unleashed. With a piercing screech of tires, Sukuna maneuvered his bike alongside Satoru’s car, forcing him to pull over by kicking the driver’s side door. The car drifted and screeched to a halt on the shoulder of the highway, and Sukuna followed suit, cutting the engine and dismounting in one fluid motion. His precious bike, now discarded on the floor, all for the sake of confronting the woman he thought had loved him.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Satoru demanded, stepping out of the car with a confident swing. He tried to look tough by using their height differences against him, but he wasn’t intimidating to Sukuna at all.

“Get out, Y/N,” Sukuna ordered, his voice dangerously low as he ignored Satoru and the countless cars honking behind them. His eyes were locked on the passenger side where you sat, your expression an amalgam of fear and hesitation. “I said get the fuck out!”

“Dude, chill out.” Satoru tried to put a hand on his shoulder, only to have his hand swiftly rebuffed. “I’m not letting her go with a man who’s clearly upset.”

“Stay the fuck outta this,” Sukuna growled, his fists clenched at his sides. The white-haired punk should take that as a warning. He should back out before his fist lands on his precious face. Plastic surgery isn’t cheap nowadays. “Y/N, if you don’t wanna cause a scene, I suggest you get the fuck outta there.”

Your chest rose and fell as you looked between the two men. You knew Sukuna well enough to understand that he wasn’t going to back down. And with a line of angry cars honking at the unnecessary traffic jam you were causing, you had no other choice but to open the door and step out.

Satoru's first instinct was to gesture for you to stay back. “Y/N—”

“Satoru, it’s okay,” you said softly. “I need to talk to him.”

The white-haired man hesitated at first, clearly worried for your safety, but with your insistence, he eventually nodded and stepped back to give you space. Sukuna’s eyes burned with intensity as he watched that interaction between you two.

“‘Kuna, can we at least pull over on the side and not talk in the middle of the highway?” you practically begged, your voice trembling as a few cars managed to squeeze their way between the McLaren and the YZF-R1, throwing harsh curse words towards you and your ex-boyfriend for the road blockage you had caused. Sukuna didn’t even flinch. All you could see was the anger in his eyes, and the pain lurking just beneath his irises.

“I’m perfectly fine talking here,” was Sukuna’s reply, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Tell me why you’re with that douche. I think you owe me a damn good explanation, angel.”

You swallowed hard, your throat tightening. You just wanted to get this conversation over with. “W-We broke up. It shouldn’t matter to you anymore.”

Beep. Beep. “Get off the road, you idiots! You’re holding everyone up!”

Beep. Beep. “Who do you think you are, blocking traffic like this?”

“Is that so?” Sukuna scoffed, taking a step closer as he cornered you. “You moved on pretty quickly, didn’t you?”

You flinched at his tone, but you knew you had to tell him the truth. You knew you would not be able to escape this situation if you didn’t admit it sooner or later. “Something did happen between me and Satoru,” you finally confessed, feeling uneasy from the lingering eyes of the heated drivers. “I didn’t plan it, it was just…”

Beep. Beep. “This is a highway, not a soap opera set!”

Beep. Beep. “Take your drama somewhere else!”

Sukuna’s eyes were clouded in disgust, the color of his lenses becoming red from the fire of his fury. “So you really gave it to him?!” he demanded, his voice rising. He looked like he could punch someone at this rate. “After everything we had, you gave yourself to someone else?!”

Beep. Beep. “Learn to drive and pull over if you want to argue!”

You could feel your entire body shaking, but you tried to hold your ground. “I-I thought it was the right thing to do. I thought it would help me forget about you.”

“Forget about me?” Sukuna’s laugh was harsh, almost maniacal, because he was truly losing his shit. “You think you can forget about me by sleeping with some random guy?” He took another step closer, his presence far more overwhelming than the rest of the vehicle surrounding you. “You’re nothing to me now,” he snarled at your face, the reality of his words cutting through your heart like a knife. “You’re just another girl who threw herself away.”

Tears spilled over as you watched him turn his back on you, preparing to mount his bike again. “And what about you, Sukuna?” you challenged, despite his obvious departure. “Do you think you’re any better? You act as if you wouldn’t have cheated on me if I hadn’t confronted you about it!”

For a moment, Sukuna was silent, his anger and pain warring within him. Then he shook his head, his expression hardening as he pulled down the visor of his helmet. “But I never cheated,” he said that fact coldly, “So, don’t expect me to stick around and pick up the pieces. You’re just somebody’s leftover now.”

He turned away, the finality of his words hanging in the air to wreck you in half. As soon as he sped up the bike, he vanished into the highway, accelerating from 0 to 60 mph in 2 seconds. The roar of his bike was louder than a thunderstorm. He didn’t even care for his own safety. And as you watched him go, you could feel the rain pouring out with your heart breaking all over again, like a vase cracking against the floor, its pieces forever irreparable.

His words hurt more than his actions ever did. And you were never one to handle it as good as you thought you would be.

— —

“I’m not trying to be biased here or anything,” Choso said, lighting his cigarette as he leaned against his Harley Davidson bike. “But even if you weren’t my step-bro, I still think you did the right thing. I wouldn’t be able to stomach hearing my ex-girlfriend be fucked by some dude after years of not giving it to me.”

Sukuna crouched next to his R1, the polished bike gleaming under the fluorescent lights of the garage. He had his shirt lay discarded nearby, leaving his toned torso exposed as he worked on changing oil. Sweat mixed with grease smudged across his chest and arms, emphasizing the taut muscles and the intricate tattoos that covered his skin. If he had women here, they would have fainted already. The sight of him sweaty and shirtless while working on his bike would have been an eye candy for them, but he didn’t need to think of that now. He merely focused on moving his hands deftly, loosening bolts and draining the old oil into a container. The methodical process offered him a momentary distraction from the chaos in his mind.

“It’s simple,” Sukuna spoke, pausing to wipe his forehead with the back of his hand and inadvertently spreading more grease, “The albino guy looks rich. She just proved to me she’s nowhere near being a good girl when a rich guy’s involved.”

The memory of his ex-girlfriend as she was picked up by another man replayed in his head. He couldn’t stop imagining how your first night went on. Did you let him fuck you raw? Did you let him hit you from the back? Did you let him cum inside? Did you go for round two? Did you choke on his cock like a good girl?

He remembered what your naked body looked like. How soft your breasts felt like. How sweet your pussy tasted like. Now, another man had a taste of it, and he couldn’t be any more disgusted. It was sickening to think that another man’s cock got to feel you inside before he did. And that you willingly allowed it.

“Fuck that,” he muttered to himself, tightening the new oil filter. His eyes narrowed in concentration, but his mind drifted back to the breakup. He’d always prided himself on being in control, on not letting himself be caught in temptation. But you had pushed his buttons too far, and even though he still never betrayed you, he was sick in the stomach to see that you were the first one who did.

“Women,” Choso agreed, grinning as he shook his head. “If she wasn’t Yuki’s friend, I would’ve cut her off.”

The wrench slipped from Sukuna's hand, leaving it to clatter to the ground. He cursed under his breath, bending down to retrieve it, his movements were fluid and graceful despite the tension in his body. “You don’t need to cut her off. It’s between me and her. She still treated you like a brother.”

The younger man raked his fingers through his raven hair, checking himself out on the bike’s mirror. “Nah. She was closer to Yuuji than me, anyway.”

Sukuna stood up, wiped his hands on a rag, and poured fresh oil into the engine. The task was almost done, but his thoughts remained tangled. Seeing you with someone else couldn’t stop igniting a fire in him, a possessive rage he couldn’t quite shake. He missed the way you two were before, the way you couldn't get enough of each other when you were together. He missed the connection you shared, because it was something he hadn’t felt with anyone else.

Finishing the oil change, he straightened up, staring at his reflection in the bike’s mirror. The man looking back at him seemed foreign, his usual arrogance tempered by a vulnerability he didn’t care to acknowledge. He then ran a hand through his hair, smearing more grease, and sighed.

“Maybe it’s time to go back to the old times,” Sukuna spoke his thoughts out loud, with his step-brother merely staring at him. “I’m single now.”

With a final glance at the bike, Sukuna grabbed his shirt and slipped it on, the fabric sticking to his damp skin. He needed a ride to clear his head, to feel the rush of the wind against his face. As he swung a leg over the R1, threw his helmet on, and revved the engine, the powerful roar echoed through the space, drowning out his thoughts for a moment.

“Be careful out there!” was Choso’s last reminder.

He sped off, the world blurring around him, but no matter how fast he went, he couldn’t escape the image of your face or the sting of jealousy that burned in his chest. His mind was clouded with thoughts of you, and your face haunted him at every turn.

As he rode, his anger simmered, his frustration building with each passing moment. The pain of betrayal gnawed at him, further fueling his reckless impulses. You’re such a piece of shit. All this time, you were claiming to be this too good of a girl who was as innocent as a bunny. When, as a matter of fact, you and your new boy toy were fucking each other like rabbits. It was funny, really, how you made him wait two years for nothing. He was your boyfriend, and yet you deprived him of sexual pleasure by pretending you were scared of it. What kind of stupid virgin would throw herself to a random guy when she’s scared to lose her virginity to her own boyfriend?

Such bullshit. With a growl of frustration, Sukuna veered off course, his bike skidding to a stop in front of a familiar building. The apartment loomed before him as a dark silhouette against the night sky. It had been several weeks since he had seen her, but tonight, he didn’t care.

His fists clenched at his sides as he marched up the steps to her door. His heart pounded in his chest, a mixture of anger and desperation swirling inside him. He was going crazy and he wanted to blow off steam. He wanted to let his frustration out, so he banged on the door, the sound of his fist colliding with the wood echoing through the quiet street.

After a moment, the door swung open, and a stunned Yorozu stood before him, bleary-eyed and disheveled. Surprise flickered across her face as she took in his appearance, his eyes burning with intensity.

“Ryo… What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty. The last time they spoke, he was very vocal about having a girlfriend and wanting to keep things professional.

Sukuna, this time around, didn’t bother with pleasantries. “I need you.”

Yorozu’s eyes widened in surprise. “But you—”

“Please, Yorozu.” He pressed a hand against the door, cornering her in between. “I really, really need you right now.”

She wasn’t naive. She understood his implication, and he had certainly conveyed that he was no longer with you. And without hesitation, she stepped aside, allowing him to enter without a word. Sukuna felt a rush of adrenaline as soon as he was inside her place, his mind consumed by the need to forget, if only for a moment.

The door closed behind him, and in the darkness of the apartment, Sukuna grabbed Yorozu’s face and kissed her lips, drowning her in the heat of passion. Things were a blur after that, because he wasn’t thinking clearly. Because he wasn’t in his proper mind. He was letting his rage cloud his thoughts, his bitterness driving his every movement. The next thing he knew, they were stumbling into her room, unable to break their intense kiss. He had kissed her like there was no tomorrow, like her mouth was suction that he couldn’t escape.

And soon enough, she was naked in her room, knelt before him as he forced his cock inside her mouth. He couldn’t get a sense of time. He couldn’t even tell if it was already midnight. All he knew was that his next few hours were spent with Yorozu, this time around, with him burying his digits in and out of her soaking pussy.

“Haaah!” She arched her back as an intense wave of pleasure hit her insides. “R-Ryo!”

Fuck. Fuck it. Sukuna, without warning, put his cock inside her cunt. And her fucked her with rage, jostled her body like a sex doll, while her eyes rolled backwards in overwhelming satisfaction. She was grinning in absolute ecstasy, her breasts bouncing wildly as he continued to hit her sensitive spot before he leaned forward to suck her perfectly round breast.

Listen, he blacked out after that. So, if you were to ask him what happened after that session with Yorozu, he wouldn’t be able to answer you because he genuinely passed out from exhaustion. All he remembered was them fucking each other’s daylights out, and the next morning, she took good care of him like she was his girlfriend again.

No, she wasn’t.

In fact, Sukuna was labeled an asshole for ghosting her. He didn’t contact her after that night, nor did he have any further encounter with her. Instead, he went back to his old life way before you. An addict, an alcoholic, a womanizer.

For the next few months, that became his life without you.

He slept with different girls every few nights, especially his clients. It got to a point where he couldn’t even recall their names, and he couldn’t remember having brought them to his apartment the night prior, because he was often too high off his mind. Every girl who came to his tattoo shop for an appointment became his companion during the night. And today, one of those girls was among the many who annoyed him afterward.

“Hey,” the girl spoke in a lascivious manner, running her slender fingers through his hair. He wasn’t sure if her name was Rina or Kiko. “You slept throughout the afternoon. Do you wanna go grab something to eat?”

Sukuna groaned, covering his head with a duvet. “Why are you still here?”

He didn’t need to see her face to know that confusion settled her delicate features. “But I thought we were…”

“Leave,” was his harsh reply. “You’re just a one-night stand to me.”

— —

“So, Y/N,” Suguru began with a playful twinkle in his eye. “Why haven’t you made Satoru yours yet?”

You rolled your eyes at Getou’s antics. He was clearly on it with his best friend, and their goal today seemed to be to tease the heck out of you. “Maybe I like to keep him guessing,” you retorted with a smirk, though your mind was far from the playful banter.

“But there’s nothing to guess!” Satoru, on the other hand, protested. He was even displaying a childish pout. “We’ve seen each other naked, you know—”

Before he could finish his sentence, you swiftly covered his mouth with your hand, earning a cackle from Suguru in return. Thank goodness there weren’t that many people in the cafe today, because you were never safe around those two. They were inseparable, like two peas in a pod, sharing one brain cell. Like yin yang.

“Shut up,” you merely replied.

“Baby, don’t be shy,” Satoru teased again, giggling like an immature child together with Suguru. “You’re an adult who did adult things.”

You sighed, wondering if you would ever get a break from these idiots. “This is exactly why I don’t date you.”

It was a joke, of course. The delivery, however, was a bit dry. But nonetheless, your statement caused Suguru to laugh at his best friend who, in his defense, tried to recover his trampled ego by denying your statement.

“She’s lying,” Satoru denied, as if convincing Suguru was his top priority, “You never told me your cousin’s hard-to-get.”

“Yeah,” agreed Suguru, playfully, “Definitely hard-to-get. The only girl who can make Sukuna pussy-less for two years.”

“Hey!” It was Yuki who intervened, knowing full well that Getou was below the belt on that joke. “Enough of that.”

In truth, you felt it was a touchy subject for you. Anything related to Sukuna, especially that aspect of your past relationship, was something you avoided like a plague. You wanted no mentions of him, and of what he did, and of what you didn’t do. He had simply become that person who can’t be named, like Voldemort.

But the thing was, it was unavoidable sometimes. You weren’t mad at Suguru for bringing him up. You knew that him and Satoru, ever mischievous, were just playfully ribbing at you, but you couldn’t muster up the same enthusiasm to banter back. You were just upset because hearing Sukuna’s name reminded you of the very reason why you hadn’t been in the happiest mood today.

If it wasn’t obvious to them, your mind had been elsewhere since this morning, too fixated on the influx of girls you noticed had been frequently visiting Sukuna’s tattoo shop lately. You knew you didn’t have the right to feel jealous anymore, you knew you should no longer care about what he does with his life, but you couldn’t shake off the nagging feeling that something was off.

And Yuki, sensing your distraction, gently pulled you to the side for a private conversation away from the chatter of your friends.

“Hey, Y/N. Everything okay?” Yuki asked, her tone soft and understanding. She wasn’t forcing you to open up, rather, she was allowing you to share only what you wanted to.

You did hesitate for a moment before finding it safe to confide in her. “I just can’t stop thinking about him. And those girls at his shop... I don’t know, it’s just been bothering me."

Yuki listened attentively, her expression empathetic. “Y/N, I know this might be hard to hear, but have you considered that Sukuna might be seeing other people?”

Your heart sank at Yuki’s words. You had entertained the thought before, but hearing it from someone else made it feel more real. “Is… Is he?”

“Well, not exactly,” she admitted reluctantly. “But Choso told me he’s been sleeping around.” Yuki then placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, anticipating your heartbreak from the news she delivered. And she was right. In just a few words, it felt like someone had stabbed you with a knife on the chest. “I'm sorry, Y/N. I agree, you deserve someone who respects and cherishes you. If Sukuna isn’t that person, then maybe it’s time to let go.”

You forced a nod, feeling a mix of sadness and regret wash over you, but you didn’t want to break down in front of Yuki. You definitely didn’t want to cry with Satoru and Suguru around. You knew deep down that Yuki was right, but accepting it was just another matter entirely and you weren’t sure if you were prepared for it.

“Listen, why don’t we go out?” she offered, a smile of encouragement spreading on her peachy lips, “Let’s have a drink or something. Anything just to keep your mind off of him. What do you say?”

— —

It was a mistake.

You fidgeted uncomfortably on the barstool, feeling out of place amidst the pulsating music and the raucous laughter that filled the rooftop bar. Yuki, Getou, and Gojou seemed to be thoroughly enjoying themselves, chatting animatedly over their drinks like it was a scene that they were used to. But for you, this environment was foreign territory. You weren’t accustomed to the loudness, the crowdedness, the palpable energy that thrummed through the air. Heck, you didn’t even drink alcohol. You couldn’t stand the taste nor could you see the benefit of drinking.

But you didn’t want to be a party pooper. Yuki did you a favor here, and it was for you to get your mind off the man who kept torturing your soul over and over. If you were to leave now, it would just beat Yuki’s purpose of tagging you along.

You were supposed to enjoy it. You were supposed to have fun, dancing with them, singing along to the music. They weren’t even the type of music Sukuna listened to.

“Y/N, bottoms up!” You weren’t sure if it was Satoru or Suguru who said that, but they both offered you a small glass of vodka, urging you to drink it in one shot.

As much as you wanted to, you had to refuse, speaking over the loud music. “I’m good, thank you.”

And as you scanned the room, your eyes inadvertently locked onto a figure across the bar.

Amidst the throng of people.

The one person you wanted to avoid.

Sukuna.

He stood out effortlessly in the crowd, exuding an aura of confidence and charisma that drew your gaze like a moth to a flame. You couldn’t believe it. No, you just couldn’t believe it. You could be hallucinating because it would be too much of a coincidence for him to be here.

But as soon as his eyes met yours, you knew he wasn’t just a figure of your imagination. Deep in your heart, you knew it was him. You couldn’t be mistaken when those eyes, those lips, those goddamn tattoos, were all him.

Though, as you two locked gaze, his expression told a different story. They were a jumble of surprise, guilt, and bitterness. He seemed just as startled to see you as you were to see him. But beneath it all, there was an undeniable tension, a silent acknowledgment of unfinished business between you.

No, you can’t walk away from me. Excusing yourself quietly, you slipped away from the table, unnoticed by your friends, and made your way through the crowd of people towards him. He was already walking away at that point, ready to avoid your presence as if seeing you was torture for him. But didn’t he know? You were too stubborn for your own good. You relentlessly followed him, squeezing in between a drunken crowd, realizing that Sukuna was heading down.

In the abandoned part of the building’s parking lot, you finally caught up to him, your heart pounding in your chest as you faced him.

“‘Kuna,” you called out, “Please.”

Sukuna turned to face you, his expression unreadable as he regarded you with dark, intense eyes. “Hey,” he replied coolly, his voice a low rumble in the night air as he walked closer to his bike.

“You’re not supposed to ride when you’re drunk,” you began.

To which he sneered at. “Why? You think I’m here to offer you a ride back home, angel?”

Aggravating as ever. He was still that arrogant bastard you knew, and loved. “No, you’re probably doing that to someone else.”

“Why don’t you go back to your filthy rich boyfriend?”

“Are you jealous?” you bit back, now feeling a palpable tension transpiring between you, but you tried not to let it stop you from speaking to him. “Whatever happened to me and Satoru was just one time.”

Sukuna scoffed at your statement. “I didn’t ask, angel.”

Truthfully, he was the most frustrating man in the world right now. And dealing with him was definitely the hardest job ever, but your purpose of running after him wasn’t to bicker. All you wanted was to confirm something that had been bothering you. So you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what was to come. “Have you been sleeping around?”

His expression remained stoic, his gaze meeting yours with a hint of defiance. “Are you jealous?” he mocked, returning the same question back to you. “So what if I am?”

You couldn’t tell what overcame you more; was it the pain or the anger? But surely, a hundred percent, your frustration was definitely boiling over. “So you are,” you huffed, “See, that wasn’t so hard to admit, isn’t it? This is what you’ve always wanted to do! To sleep with those girls!”

For a moment, silence hung heavy between you, the tension was crackling in the air like electricity. Then, without warning, Sukuna closed the distance between you, his hand reaching out to grab your jaw.

“You don’t get to turn this back around on me,” he spat, swallowing the obvious pain in his voice, “You’re the one who started it all.”

Your breath was caught in your throat as you felt the heat of his body so close to yours, his touch igniting an altogether new fire within you. Despite the anger building inside your heart, you couldn’t deny the pull you felt towards him, the magnetic attraction that seemed to draw you together like two black holes ready to destroy one another.

“I fucking waited for you,” he continued, his voice now deepening in a more sincere tone, “I know I was wrong for not setting boundaries, but I never, not once, cheated on you. I never fucking did! But you couldn’t trust me, right? You couldn’t fuckin’ trust me.” His pupils dilated as he raised his voice. “You’re so caught up in being too goddamn insecure about yourself when all I wanted was to have intimacy with you—”

“All you wanted was sex, just admit that!” you yelled back, jerking his hand away as tears began to fill your eyes. “And maybe I was right for giving my first to someone else, because you don’t deserve it. You don’t deserve it when you’ve always pressured me into giving it to you.”

Sukuna’s laughter filled the air, a disbelieving chuckle that bordered on frustration. He threw his head back, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. Without hesitation, he snatched his helmet and hurled it across the floor, the sound of impact startling you.

“I never fucking pressured you!” His voice was raw with emotion as he walked back towards you, frustration and hurt evident in every step. “You’re the only girl I genuinely respected. You think I enjoyed being celibate for two fucking years?! No, the fuck, I didn’t! But I waited. I waited because I didn't want you to feel forced! It was all in your fucking head, Y/N. Your doubts, your uncertainties about me. I’m a man too, damn it! Of course, it frustrated me, but that doesn’t mean I would ever leave you or cheat on you.” And just when you thought it was over, he spoke again, his words now silencing into a painful tone, his eyes shining from the tears blanketing his gaze, “Did you think you were the only one who was insecure? Every damn day, Y/N, I was scared you were gonna leave me. That you were gonna find some other guy, someone who could give you everything you want—a big house, a nice car, a successful life. I didn’t have all that. And it kills me every single day knowing that that’s exactly the type of guy you went after the moment we broke up.”

Silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating, as Sukuna’s words replayed in your mind like a broken record. You couldn’t bring yourself to respond, couldn’t find the words to refute his accusations. Because deep down, you knew he had a point. Your doubts, your insecurities—they had clouded your judgment, poisoned your perception of Sukuna. And now, faced with his raw honesty, you couldn’t deny the truth in his words.

But accepting that truth was a bitter pill to swallow. It meant acknowledging your own flaws, your own role in the breakdown of your relationship. And it meant coming to terms with the fact that maybe, just maybe, you had let your fears drive you to push away the person who had truly cared for you.

As Sukuna stood before you, frustration and hurt etched into every line of his face, you felt a pang of regret twist in your chest. You wanted to reach out, to apologize, to admit that you had your wrongs, too. But no words came out, choked by the weight of your own self-doubt.

“I…” you struggled to respond. It was a battle you weren’t ready to fight, so your only option was to run away. To turn away like a coward, and to flee the agonizing reality of your relationship.

But Sukuna didn’t let you. Instead, he closed the remaining space between you, his lips crashing down on yours in a hungry, desperate kiss.

In that moment, all thoughts of anger and confrontation melted away as you surrendered to the intoxicating allure of Sukuna’s touch. Lost in the heat of the moment, lost in a puddle of strong emotions. You fell deeper into the trap of your undeniable sexual tension, your bodies becoming entwined in a passionate embrace in the empty parking lot.

His lips were soft against yours, his tongue rolling in the opposite motion as you kissed him deeper. More, more. He was hungry for more. And so were you.

So when he kissed your neck, you allowed it.

When he squeezed your breast, you allowed it.

When he raised your skirt, you allowed it.

You released a moan into his mouth as he sat you on top of his motorbike, standing in between your legs as he reattached his lips back to yours. Your mouths enveloped each other perfectly. The bittersweet taste of his tongue, now moving south down your neck.

“Sukuna…”

While his mouth was busy doing its own work, his hands too were occupied in touching areas he had once explored. One hand travelled to your thigh, squeezing your flesh before he reached your crotch. Two fingers touched your underwear, as if he was checking if you were wet, before he pushed them onto the side to set your cunt free.

You ended up wrapping your arms around his neck, a gasp escaping your lips as his fingers played with your entrance. Your clit, your sensitive bud, also wasn’t ignored when he began moving his fingers in a circular motion.

“Mmmh!”

What was going through his head? You knew he was aroused, but why did his gaze look so dark? It was too grim, to the point where it scared you. But you were far too distracted when his other hand went to grab a hold of your tit, squeezing your mound, and kneading the soft skin. He had pulled down your neckline to release your tits in the air, quickly attaching his mouth onto one breast as soon as they were out in the open.

“Haaah!”

You were going crazy, both from the fingers that were entering your cunt, and the mouth that was sucking your tit. You had your back arched into a C, your arms grabbing onto his shoulder as he became more and more aggressive with his touch.

And you weren’t exaggerating when you said he was being more aggressive with it, because when he pulled himself away from you, it only lasted for a few seconds before he grabbed your waist and twisted your body around. In a blink of an eye, he had you position against his motorbike, with your body leaning against the seat and your ass high enough for his crotch.

“S-Sukuna, s-someone might walk in—”

He had pulled your underwear down, letting it stay in between your knees, before rubbing your pussy from behind. His breath was warm when he whispered into your ear, “Don’t act like you hate it.”

He wasn’t wrong with that either. Because while he was touching your entrance, testing if the tip of his cock would smoothly glide in, you became an animal in heat, ready to be devoured by him. You had to cover your mouth, forcing yourself to keep your voice down as he finally buried his cock six inches deep inside of you.

“A-Aah!” your body jerked forward as Sukuna rawdogged you from behind. “S-Sukuna, aah!”

“You’re such a fucking slut,” he cussed under his breath, feeling a painful stretch on your scalp as he pulled your hair, “Did he fuck you this good?”

“Mmh—no!”

The sound of skin-slapping was reverberating across the empty lot.

“Did you let him cum inside?”

“N-No…!”

He was insatiable. He couldn’t get enough of the tightness of your cunt. He, too, was moaning from the feeling of your velvet walls milking his cock like a warm glove. So he continued to thrust inside you, his hands on your hips, keeping you steady as he rammed his cock inside faster, and harder, and deeper.

Your buttocks were becoming too sore, the stretch of skin on your bum vibrating in waves every time he hit you balls deep inside.

And while you were a moaning hot mess below him, a realization suddenly hit you in the face like a truck. Throughout your relationship, this was all he had ever wanted to do with you. He had always talked about doing it slowly, in a romantic set up with candles lit and petals around, in a place where you can lay yourself comfortably. You dreamed of him whispering I love you’s into your mouth as you two made love. You fantasized about him lovingly looking into your eyes as he reached his high. You used to picture him out, intertwining his hands with yours as he tells you you’re the most beautiful girl in the world.

Yet now, you were doing it in the basement parking lot. In a dark, dirty place. Bent over against the uncomfortable seat of his bike.

And more importantly, he was treating you like a whore.

Tears welled up your eyes as you felt Sukuna pull out after finishing. For a minute, he gathered himself together, his head pressed against your nape as he sighed.

“It’s not working, Y/N,” he mumbled against your skin, voicing the exact words you were afraid to hear.

“I know…” You sniffed, pulling the strap of your dress back up and adjusting your skirt back down.

He didn’t need to say anything more. When he gave you one last kiss on the forehead and wrapped you in his jacket, you understood the full weight of his words. It wasn’t just about this moment; it was about everything that had led you here.

It didn’t work because you had already shattered your perceptions of each other. Both tarnished the way you saw one another. He would never come to terms with the fact that you gave yourself to another guy, just as you could never accept that he had slept with the same girls you had always warned him about. It would only lead to a constant game of back-and-forths, of pointing fingers, of toxic love.

So you watched him mount his bike, rev the engine, and look at you one last time before speeding away. His figure disappeared into the dark like a shadow, like a dream you only once knew.

That was the last time you ever saw Ryomen Sukuna in your lifetime.

#ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #jjk x reader #sukuna angst #sukuna smut #jjk smut #jjk angst

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charlesslut16 · 1 day

Note

hey babe i loved the max fic about the one wherereader pregnant, my idea/vision for part two is probably reader move somewhere probably england and live there fast forward years later they run into max. i think that's all i have thanks loveee

-gaining you to love-

summary : you and max meet again after all the trauma you had went trough

PAIRING : max verstappen x fem!reader

WARNINGS : none?

note : i hope that you like this and please request more!!!

masterlist ; Part 1

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Years had passed since you had last seen Max Verstappen. After the heartbreak, you had packed up your life and moved to England, seeking a fresh start away from the painful memories.

You found solace in the quaint countryside and raised your child with the love and dedication that had always been your strength. In your heart, you still wished he and you could raise your child together.

But this would still always be your dream.

Your child, a vibrant and curious soul, grew up knowing about their father only through the carefully chosen stories you shared and the races you watched on television.

It had never crossed your mind to not tell your child, who their father is. It just never felt right to you. How could you not allow your child to know the person that was one's your most loved person and their dad.

Max’s name was synonymous with greatness in the world of Formula 1, and even though you had distanced yourself, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of pride every time his name was mentioned.

One crisp autumn afternoon, you were out shopping in the bustling streets of London with your now four-year-old child. The city had a way of making you feel both anonymous and connected, a perfect blend for the life you had built.

It was not the perfect life you had chosen, but it was as perfect as it could be. As you walked through the crowded market, a familiar voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Y/N?”

You turned, and there he was—Max, your max, standing just a few feet away. He looked different, older, more mature, but the spark in his eyes was unmistakable.

He had the same smile and the same voice, both features that broth you great happiness, a long time ago. Your heart skipped a beat, memories flooding back with an intensity that took your breath away.

“Max,” you whispered quiet, not quite believing your eyes. Max, your max, standing in front of you. Impossible, right? Your child looked up at you, sensing the shift in your emotions.

Max took a step closer to the both of you, his eyes scanning your face as if trying to confirm that you were real. If it was really the love of his life.“I can’t believe it’s you,” he said softly. “How have you been?”

You swallowed hard, trying to steady your voice, not sure if words would come out surely and understandable.“I’ve been…good. How about you? You’ve done well for yourself. You have grown more mature”

He nodded, a hint of a smile on his lips. A smile that had not shown like that, since you left.“Yeah, it’s been a wild ride. But I’ve thought about you a lot. About us.”

Before you could respond, your child tugged at your sleeve, looking curiously at Max. You did not thread this moment, but you sure were nervous.“Mommy, is that?”

You took a deep breath, kneeling down to your child’s level. “This is, Max,” you said gently. Not too sure if your child was ready for this important moment in their life.

Max’s eyes widened as he looked at the child, realization dawning on him. It was his your child. The child he did not chose. “Is this…?” he began, his voice trailing off and cracking slightly.

You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes. “Yes, Max. This is our child.”

He looked back at you, a mix of emotions playing across his face—shock, regret, longing. All because his younger self chose his career and not his family. “Can we talk?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You agreed, and the three of you found a quiet café nearby. As you sat down, the tension was palpable. Your child, oblivious to the emotional undercurrents, chattered happily about their favorite books and toys.

Max listened intently, a soft smile on his face, but his eyes kept drifting back to you. He had never realized how the feeling of being content really felt until this exact moment.

Once your child was occupied with a coloring book, Max reached across the table, taking your hand in his. “I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “For everything. I was scared, and I handled it all wrong. I’ve regretted it every day since.”

Tears spilled down your cheeks as you listened to his words. “I was hurt, Max. So hurt. But I had to be strong for our child. I moved here to start over, to give them a good life.”

“You’ve done an incredible job,” he said, his eyes full of admiration. “But I want to be part of their life. I want to be a part of your life. I want us back. If you’ll let me.”

You looked at your child, then back at Max. The pain of the past was still there, but so was the love you had always felt for him. And always will.“It won’t be easy,” you said softly. “But I want what’s best for our child. They deserve to know their father.”

Max nodded with a lift of his lip, his grip on your hand tightening. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make things right. I want to be here for both of you. To have you both with me.”

The weeks that followed were a whirlwind of emotions as Max integrated himself into your life. He was patient and understanding, taking the time to get to know your child and to rebuild the trust between you.

The bond that had once been so strong, that you had thought would never be like that, slowly began to mend, and the love you thought you had lost forever started to rekindle.

One evening, as you sat together in your cozy living room, your child asleep upstairs, Max turned to you with a serious expression. “I want to make up for lost time, Y/N. I want to be a family. Will you give me another chance?”

You looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and determination there. The years of hurt and loneliness had taken their toll, but the love had never truly faded. “I want that too, Max,” you said, your voice trembling with emotion. “I’ve always wanted that. I had always hoped for a happy ending for us.”

Max pulled you into his arms, holding you close as you both let the tears flow. It felt like coming home after a long, arduous journey. The pain of the past was still there, but it was overshadowed by the promise of a future together.

As the weeks turned into months, you and Max built a life together, full of love and laughter. Your child thrived, surrounded by the warmth of a united family. Max balanced his racing career with his newfound responsibilities, proving to be a devoted father and partner.

The journey had been long and painful, but it had led you to this moment—standing together at the finish line, not as competitors, but as a family. And as you looked at Max, you knew that despite everything, you had finally found your way back to each other.

In your heart, you had truly known that this would be the outcome. It was a dream that came through and even tho you all went to tremendous pain you would go through it as a family.

A family he chose.

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sunflower-lilac42 · 3 days

Text

𝘀𝗮𝗳𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱 | 𝘩𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴 ♔

➪ summary: after the first incident of her getting sick, her brothers are on high alert for when the time comes again. but what happens when they're all away and she gets sick when she's alone? | based on taylor swift's 'safe and sound'

➪ warnings: reader is sick, throwing up, blood, hospitals, swearing

➪ word count: 3.0k

➪ file type: song based fic

➪ sunny's notes: i have mixed feelings about this fic because... well if you know what happened with this you know what happened. i am extremely proud of it though especially because i wrote it in one night and the person who this is based off of absolutely loved it when i posted it the first time as well

nhl masterlist || taglist || navigation

'I remember tears streaming down your face When I said I'll never let you go When all those shadows almost killed your light I remember you said don't leave me here along But all that's dead and gone and passed tonight'

She was five when she got severely sick the first time and she was terrified. She woke up feeling warm and cold at the same time, her throat was scratchy and dry, and her eyes were watery but she didn’t know if it was because she was scared or if it was just a reaction, and her energy was slim to nonexistent which was scared Ellen and Jim.

By now, their sons would’ve scooped the youngest child out of her bedroom and made their way downstairs to watch something on TV or just play with her. Yet, it was dead silent in the house. Ellen got up from the bed and peeked into each of her son’s rooms and was relieved to find that they were asleep still.

She hoped the same for her daughter but when she walked into the room and saw her five-year-old in tears sitting on her bed, she rushed over.

“What’s wrong, honey?”

“Mommy!” She let out a loud cry alarming Jim and he came rushing in as well, not noticing the eldest Hughes child in tow.

“Hey, sweetheart. I’m here, your brothers are still sleeping, let’s not wake them up. What’s wrong?”

“I don’t feel good.” She sniffled and quieted her voice.

Ellen picked her up and placed her daughter on her lap as she sat down, “Jim go get the-”

Before she even finished, y/n leaned over and threw up, trying not to get it on Ellen, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, hon. Jim, go get the thermometer.”

Jim quickly walked out of the room, heading to the bathroom but got stopped as he ran into his son, “Quinn! Morning.”

“Dad, what’s wrong?”

“Your sister’s sick, it’s probably nothing.”

Quinn’s face went pale, “Is she okay? Does she have a fever? Is she throwing up?”

“Quinn! Calm down. I promise you, it’s probably just a little cold. You can go see her if you want, Mom is in there with her.”

Quinn walked into the room to see Ellen hugging y/n. He took one step and Ellen turned to him, “Hi, Quinn.”

“How is she?”

“It’s most likely just a cold. Y/n/n, look who’s here.” She directed her head to her son and pointed to him, “Quinny!”

She reached her arms out for him and Quinn gladly took her, placing her on his hip, “Hi baby bear.”

“I no feel good, Quinny.” Quinn nodded his head, “I know but we’re gonna make you feel better, okay?”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

Jim walked back into the room, placing the thermometer under the girl’s tongue. Seconds later it beeped and Jim took it out of her mount, “40.6/104”

The parents sigh and start to walk out, “Quinn if you don’t mind can you get her ready quickly, we’re gonna need to go to the hospital.”

Quinn nodded his head and he walked over to his sister’s closet, “Whatcha wanna wear, sweetheart?” Y/n lazily pointed to her brown bear sweatshirt and snuggled her head back into her brother’s chest. Quinn got her ready and sat her on her bed so he could put her shoes on.

“Quinny?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Are you going to leave me?”

“Of course, not y/n/n. I’m never going to let you go.”

Jack and Luke had both heard the rustling from outside their rooms and they both stepped out into the hallway, “What’s going on?”

Jack shrugged, “No clue, bro. I’m so tired.” The boy saw his sister’s door open and walked in there.

By now, Quinn was sitting on her bed and y/n was lying in his arms, “What’s going on?”

“She’s sick.” Jack and Luke immediately wake up at the news and rush over, spitting out questions left and right.

“She’s got a fever but that’s all I know right now. Mom and Dad are taking her to the hospital.”

“The hospital?!”

“I wanna go.” Luke protests just as their parents walk back into the room, fully dressed, “Oh, good morning you two.”

“Can we go with?”

“Guys, the three of you can’t come with.”

“Please, mommy.” Y/n’s little voice spoke up from her brother’s lap.

Ellen sighed, “Fine. But if you guys aren’t out there in five minutes, dressed, then we’re leaving without you.”

Ellen reached over and grabbed her daughter, the three of them heading out to the car to wait for their sons.

『••✎••』

In the hospital, Jim and Ellen were the only ones allowed to go back with her at least for now, and y/n let her voice be heard. She cried and cried until they relented and let one of them go back with the two. She reached for Quinn immediately and he nodded his head and followed behind his mom and sister, Jim staying with the other two.

When they got home, the boys sat at the kitchen table as Jim tried to give y/n her medicine, “I don’t want to.”

“I know you don’t want to, honey, but you have to. Don’t you want to feel better?”

“Jacky.”

Jack’s head popped up from where he sat and looked at her, “Yeah?”

Y/n pointed to her medicine and then to Jack and glared, “You want Jack to give you your medicine?”

She nodded with purpose and Jim happily gave the medicine to his middle son, “All yours, Jack.”

Jack didn’t complain, it meant that she trusted him and he loved that feeling. Jack poured the liquid into the small cup to the correct fill line and put it near his sister’s mouth. She took it without a hassle and from the corner of his eyes he could see his father throw his hands up in defeat causing everyone to chuckle.

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

'Just close your eyes, the sun is going down You'll be alright, no one can hurt you now Come morning light, you and I'll be safe and sound'

Later that night, y/n lay in bed by herself, looking at the wall. Her stomach hurt and she let out a barely audible whine. Luke, who happened to be walking by, heard it and peeked his head into the room, “You doing okay, baby bear?”

“No.”

Luke walked fully into the room and sat on his little sister’s bed, “What’s wrong?”

“Stomach. Will you stay with me?”

“Of course, I will.” Luke laid down next to her and she curled into him, “Thank you.”

Luke looked confused, “For what?”

“For making me feel safe. All three of you.”

Luke awed internally, trying not to let tears fall down his face, “No need to thank me for that.”

Five minutes passed and Jack and Quinn got down waiting for their brother, getting up to see where he was. When they saw him lying in y/n’s bed, they made their way over to them, “You guys okay?”

There was no answer as both of them had fallen asleep. Quinn told Jack to stay there as he walked out to grab some pillows and blankets and brought them back to him. The two made their makeshift beds on the ground and fell asleep not long after.

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

‘Don't you dare look out your window, darling, everything's on fire The war outside our door keeps raging on Hold onto this lullaby even when the music's gone, gone

Just close your eyes, the sun is going down You'll be alright, no one can hurt you now Come morning light, you and I'll be safe and sound’

Ever since then, it was common that y/n had to go to the hospital. As the boys got older, they got more worried. They were busier, Quinn went to college and eventually, he and Jack made the NHL. Luke went off to college and this year he started his official rookie season with the Devils.

However, it wasn’t as often that it happened when they were away, and if it did it wasn’t as bad as having to go to the hospital, just more or less the doctor’s office. They weren’t as worried about her when this happened, getting texts from either there or their parents and calling them to make sure she was okay.

This time was different. Ellen and Jim had run out to grab a few things for dinner and they left y/n at home alone, because she was 16 and was capable of being by herself. Yet, in hindsight, they probably shouldn't have.

They had been gone for twenty minutes already and she thought they wouldn’t be much longer and she could hold on. But she couldn’t. Every couple of minutes it felt like she had a coughing attack, but this last one, blood came up with it.

Wasting no time she dialed the first person that came up on her contacts, Luke.

“Lukey.”

“Hey, y/n/n! What’s up?”

She was glad they didn’t have a game today, otherwise she’d be totally screwed.

“Lukey, I’m scared.”

“You’re scared? Why? What’s wrong?” Luke stood up from his bed and made his way out of his room and towards Jack’s.

He didn’t knock on the door before entering which left Jack to somewhat argue with him about knocking before entering, not that he was doing anything, but manners, you know?

“It’s so bad. Really bad.”

“Well, where’s mom and dad? How bad are we talking?” Jack’s interest peaked at the mention of his parents and scrambled to sit next to his younger brother on his bed, motioning for him to put it on speaker. Luke pressed the button and pulled his phone away from his ear, waiting for the girl to talk.

“They went out to grab-” She took a pause before coughing some more. Jack and Luke looked at each other worriedly, “Y/n?”

“Oh god. There’s more.”

“More what?” Jack inquired, nervousness settling at the bottom of his stomach, “More blood.”

The three were silent, y/n trying not to freak out and Jack and Luke trying not to freak her out. It was quiet for a couple of minutes before the oldest of the three-spoke up, “When are Mom and Dad going to be home?”

As soon as she went to say her answer the front door clicked and y/n rushed downstairs, “Dad! Mom!”

She threw her phone on the counter and Luke turned the volume all the way up in an effort to hear the conversation, “What? What’s wrong?”

“I threw up some blood.”

“Oh my. Get in the car, I’ll meet you two there.” Jim rushed y/n to the car and Ellen ran around the house gathering a few things in case they were there for a while.

Jack and Luke were freaking out, “Dad, what’s going on? Mom? Y/n?” Ellen spied her daughter’s phone on the counter and looked at it curiously seeing her son’s contact name on it, “Luke?”

“Mom, what is happening?”

“We’re taking her to the hospital. How long ago did she call you?”

“I don’t know like five minutes ago maybe?” Luke’s voice broke as he explained to his mom, Jack placing a hand on his back.

“I want you to call, Quinn-”

“No!” Y/n interrupted her mom as she got into the passenger seat, “What do you mean no?”

“He has a game, please.”

“Honey, I think you are more important to him than the game. Let Luke and Jack call him.” Ellen’s voice was stern as Jim pulled out of the driveway.

“If you’re gonna call him, let me talk to him.”

Ellen, and the boys, went to protest but y/n’s face showed desperation, “Fine. We’ll call you two back when we have answers.”

“Don’t bother. We’re already packing.”

As Ellen and y/n were squabbling, Jack ushered his younger brother to his room and told him to go back and he left his phone in his room. Jack pulled his suitcase out of his closet and was halfway finished packing when they acknowledged the two again.

“There’s no need-”

“You’re not winning this y/n/n. We’ll be there as soon as we can.”

Jack hung up and finished packing, meeting Luke and in ten minutes, they were on their way to the airport.

Meanwhile, y/n had dialed Quinn’s contact, nervously chewing on her bottom lip. It was an hour before the game was supposed to start and she had no idea if he would actually answer or not, but to her luck, he did.

“Quinn.”

“Hey, y/n/n. What's up? Need help with some homework?”

“I’m going to the hospital.”

Quinn dropped his stick as he stood in the locker room, some of his teammates glancing at him worriedly, “What is it?”

“Same old, same old, but this-” Her sentence was interrupted by another coughing attack and Quinn could hear their mother telling her to take it easy in the background.

“What do you mean it’s worse?” Quinn didn’t need her to finish the sentence for him to know what she meant.

Elias was standing next to him, a hand on his shoulder to ground him in case anything got out of hand, “I coughed up some blood.”

“You what?!” Quinn’s voice echoed through the clubhouse, “Quinn what’s wrong?”

The boy shushed his teammates, “Quinn, I’m probably fine-”

“If you’re coughing up blood you are not fine. Do Mom and Dad know? Do Jack and Luke?”

“Yes, Mom and Dad know, you idiot. Who do you think is taking me to the hospital? And yes the other two know, I already called them. I didn’t want to call you because you have a game.”

“I couldn’t care less about the game when my little sister calls and tells me she’s on the way to the hospital. Let me talk to coach, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Quinn, no-”

“Nope, la la la la. Blah blah blah. I’m coming. Give the phone to mom.”

“But-”

“No.”

Y/n reluctantly handed the phone to her mom but as she extended her hand, her arm dropped and the phone clattered to the ground. The only thing Quinn could hear was the faint yelling of his sister’s name from his mom.

『••✎••』

Y/n was lying in the hospital bed when Jack and Luke watched the only show that was on this late at night, Family Feud. She was trying to answer but every time she went to speak she’d start coughing. The two ran in just as y/n’s previous coughing attack had subsided and she was now glaring at the TV because someone said a stupid answer.

“I said sex first, asshole. But no one wanted to listen to me.”

“Glad to see you haven’t lost your sense of humor.”

“Jacky! Lu!” Y/n had a dopey smile on her face as she saw her brothers. They couldn’t tell if it was the drugs or if she was just being herself.

“Hey, baby bear. How you feeling?”

“Mom, can I swear?”

Jack laughed, “Aren’t you the one who just called someone an asshole?”

“Mom! Jack’s being mean.”

“Jack, stop torturing your sister and yes, y/n, you can swear.”

“I feel like shit.” Luke nodded, the only one who seemed to have sympathy for the girl right now, “What did the doctor say?”

“I don’t know, I wasn’t really listening.”

Ellen and Jim explained how it wasn’t a big thing and that she should be able to go home in a couple of hours or so. The two stayed with her until she was discharged and drove home with the three where Luke carried her upstairs to her room because she fell asleep on the way home.

That’s where Quinn found them when he got there, Jack and Luke on either side of her in her bed as they watched the Game Show Network. One of the many stuffed animals that Quinn had gotten her wrapped in her arms against her chest.

“Hey guys.”

“Quinn! You’re here.”

“Of course, I’m here. I couldn’t let those two take care of you.”

Jack and Luke feigned offense at the eldest child but Jack moved over so Quinn could sit where he previously was, knowing y/n always chose to be close to him when she was sick.

“You doing okay?”

“Could be better, but I’m happy you’re here.”

“I’m never letting you go, none of us are.”

“Please don’t leave me.”

It was something the three had already talked about, they had already talked to their coaches and were scratched from their next couple of games because their sister needed him.

Y/n spent the rest of the night surrounded by her brothers feeling safe and sound.

⬂ 𝗛𝘂𝗴𝗵𝗲𝘀 𝗕𝗿𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗧𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ⬂

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 day

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End Game 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, stalking, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your gaming buddy asks to meet up but it doesn't go exactly as planned.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: get ready for the hate.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The tunnel lights up ahead of you, revealing the cubic rock walls as you plant torches in your stead. The eerie soundtrack of night time and the ominous groan of zombies looming somewhere in the cave have you uptight. Silently, you press on, digging and mining mindlessly, fingers mashing the buttons on your controller.

“Hey, where are you?” Jacob’s voice startles you.

You nearly forgot you’re playing co-op. You sniff and shake your head, cursing aloud as your shock has you succumbing to the arrow of a sneaky skeleton. You sigh as your possessions scatter and you spawn back in your bed.

“Back home,” you say glumly, “just ate it.”

“Ah, damn,” his deep voice rolls in your noise-cancelling headset, “sorry, hope that wasn’t me.”

“No, I wasn’t paying attention,” you hum and sigh.

“Ah,” he accepts and lets silence linger before he clicks his tongue, “what’s going on? Everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you put the controller down, your avatar sitting on the geometric bed, “I just...” you stretch your neck and massage your scalp around the thick band of the headset, “got a lot on my mind.”

“Right. I thought you were all done exams,” he says.

“I am, but... packing. Going home. I called my old boss and turns out I’m not gonna have a job this summer. Gotta start over,” you yawn and rub your eyes, “what about you? Final exam tomorrow?”

“Uh... yeah,” he hesitates as if he forgot. You do wonder why he isn’t cramming right now. You could never play minecraft all night the day before a final. “Easy stuff. I’m not worried.”

You scoff. You wish you could say the same. All you’ve done is worry those last two weeks. Exams, getting home, getting a job. Your grandmother won’t very happy to find out you’ll be slumming it for a while. At least you tucked away some money through the semester.

“Hey, if you need a few bucks...” Jacob offers.

“What? Are you crazy? No way,” you exclaim, “really, no, I couldn’t. I’ll be fine. I just... I hate looking for jobs. You know how it is. Friggin awkward.”

“It’s not a big deal. My dad sent me my birthday money so...”

“Uh uh,” you deny him again, “that’s way too much. I couldn’t-- we haven’t even met.”

“Mm, yeah, about that,” he exhales into his microphone, “I, uh, got an extra ticket to this Con. I figured out that’s it like the midway point between us so...”

“A con? Oh, wow--”

“Yeah, but I get that it would be expensive so maybe I could pay for your trip?”

“Jacob,” you wiggle the controller restlessly, “I can't accept that. It’s so nice but... it’s a lot.”

“I wouldn’t offer it was too much,” his voice is soft, meek, and defeated. You feel bad but you would feel worse taking advantage of his kindness. “We’ve been talking all year. I just figured it would be a good chance to meet up. It would be in public and something we both like so...”

You scratch your neck as it speckles with heat. You don’t know what’s more insulting; yes or no.

“Can I think about it?” You ask thinly.

The line is quiet. You look at the screen and it goes dim from your idling. You hit the analog stick and fix your headphones.

“Jacob?” You murmur.

“Sure, think about it,” he says, his voice raspy and rocky. It’s strange. You’ve seen him in pictures and his voice doesn’t really match his appearance. He sounds a lot older than he looks. “It’s next month so lots of time.”

“I’m sorry,” you cringe. “I just wouldn’t want to waste your money.”

“Trust me, it wouldn’t be a waste,” he insists, “this last year has sucked. So much. You got me through it all.” His microphone scuffs, “studying, exams, all that stuff. It’s tough making new friends. Seems like everyone here knows each other from high school.”

“Yeah, totally,” you agree.

You’re not exactly the most popular person. You have people you know in each class but not too many friends you hang out with outside the lecture hall or library. So far, not too many people want to spend hours mining digital gold or racing cartoon characters around a rainbow track.

“Well, you should probably get some sleep,” you yawn, “you got your big exam and... I gotta keep packing. Gotta catch the greyhound tomorrow night.”

“Sure, uh, yeah, right,” his disappointment is potent, “hey, will you text me when you get home? Just so I know you made it.” He snorts, “god, I sound like my dad right now.”

“Oh, of course,” you chirp back, “I’ll try to remember. Might be late.”

“That’s fine. Just as long as you let me know.”

“Don’t worry about me,” you assure him, “not ‘til I have to face my grandma. Ha.”

“Yeah, good luck with that,” he says, “well... er...”

“Good night,” you finish for him, “let me know how the exam goes too.”

“Will do,” his timbre gets even lower, “night.”

You sign off and shut down the console. Another yawn flows through you and waters in your eyes. You should sleep, you got a long day waiting for you, but you know it won’t be easy. Not with so much on your mind, not least of all, Jacob’s invitation.

🎮

You text Jacob as you get on the bus, to make sure he doesn’t worry. It’s so sweet that he does, even some of your girlfriends don’t bother that much. Not that you mind the ‘hey, bitch’ Janet sends you every now and again to make sure you’re still alive.

You fall asleep on the bus. You’ve never been one to sleep while travelling but you’re exhausted from a night of anxious tossing and turning. After spending all day packing up the last of your things and scouring your dorm room, you’re beat to hell.

It’s midnight as you get to your grandmother’s house. She’s up reading another Stephen King classic in her rocking chair. She’s always been a night owl and a voracious book hound. She grumbles at you but doesn’t bother to ask how your trip was.

“Hey, grandma,” you hike up your bag and smile.

She growls again, eyes not leaving the page. You should know better by now not to interrupt her. You shoulder on and head down to the spare room where you spent most of your high-school career. You shut the door gently as the old hardwood floors creak with your weight and you drop your bag on the squeaky bed.

You fish out your phone and plug it in as the battery flashes red with only two percent left. You leave it on the night table and stretch out, not bothering to change out of your hoodie and jeans. It’s not long before you descend back into the same dreams that marked your journey home.

You wake up to buzzing. Your phone shakes the nightstand, rattling it against the bed frame. You groan and roll onto your side, reaching blindly for offending object. You hit the side button to dismiss the call.

You blink away the bleariness and focus on the screen. Along with the missed call are several text messages. You squint as you expand the notifications. Jacob! You forgot to message.

‘Hey, you home?’

‘Checking in. Must be busy getting settled in. Just let me know when you’re safe.’

‘Not meaning to be weird but everything okay?’

‘Please answer me. I’m worried.’

You drag your thumb around the keyboard, letting it predict your words; ‘sorry! I was so tired. Home now and safe 😊'

Three dots pop up then swoop away. You frown as the same thing happens several times before a response appears.

‘Was really worried. Thanks for finally answering. Been up all night.’

You’re stunned by the terse response. Yeah, you forgot to answer but he doesn’t need to worry that much. You frown and shift onto your side.

‘Srry again. Tired. Talk in morning. Night.’

You turn your phone on silent and plug it back into the cord. You do feel bad but you’re too exhausted to let it keep you up. Besides, you need your sleep. You have lots of job hunting to do in the morning. Not to mention, your grandmother to face.

🎮

You let Jacob cool down after your return home. Rather, he doesn’t text and you’re too distracted to do the same. As much as you’d like to sit around and game, your grandmother was as disappointed as you expected with your employment status, even when you gave her the money you had left in your emergency fund.

After a week, you finally get a bite. It’s nothing special. There’s a seasonal ice cream shop in a booth shaped like a vanilla cone that needs a cashier on weeknights. It’s less than full time hours but it’s better than nothing. It will be strange working with high school juniors but you can’t afford to be picky.

‘Game tonight?’ The text interrupts your first shift. You don’t have a chance to answer as a family approaches the window to order.

You get them the soft serve and take their payment, bidding them a good evening with their vanilla points already drooping in the summer heat. You glance around at the mostly empty picnic tables. Soccer practice will end soon and you’ll be overloaded with eight-year-olds.

‘Srry. New job. 1st shift. Maybe tmrw.’

‘New job? Congrats. Why didn’t you tell me?’

You sigh.

‘Time got ahead of me.’

‘Same. Catch up tomorrow then. Minecraft?’

‘Sure. Tmrw.’

You slip your phone away. A mother and daughter approach and ask for a sundae and a banana split. As much as you love ice cream, working with it hasn’t tested your cravings very much. In fact, you might be falling out of love with it. The smell of vanilla and overly sweetened strawberries is kind of gross when it’s all you breathe.

As you watch the happy customers walk away, you smile. Maybe it will be good to get some mining done. It will take your mind off of everything else. Hell, it might even make you feel like you’re doing something useful.

🎮

“Shit, oh, sorry,” Jacob corrects himself. You always think it's kind of funny how he doesn’t like to swear. “My diamond armor.”

“Oh no,” you utter, “where are you? I’ll grab your stuff.”

He gives his coordinates and you turn around, leaping over the green blocks to make your way there. Despite your reticence at the beginning, you’re feeling better about the session. He wasn’t as tense as he seemed in his texts.

“So, uh, did you think about the con?” Jacob asks.

“The con? I almost forgot. When is it?”

He gives the dates and you hum. Your chest flutters at the thought still. You’re not stupid. Meeting people IRL is not like online, no matter how many hours you’ve mined together. As much as you enjoy chatting with Jacob, you don’t know about meeting up.

“I get it if you can’t get the time off but my offer still stands to cover the trip. If you wanna stay the night, I’ll even get an airBnB.”

“Oh, wow, that’s a lot. I’m working now. I could put in,” you offer.

“Is that a yes?” He asks hopefully.

“I don’t know... I mean, I’ll have to look into it,” you say evasively. “Talk to my boss and grandma and all that.”

“Right, right,” he tries to sound unbothered, “makes sense. Of course, no pressure. How about I send you the ticket either way? Haven’t got anyone else to bite.”

“Oh, well, hold off, I wouldn’t want to take it and not use it,” you collect his weapons and armor from the ground in the game.

It’s silent as you focus on getting every little thing.

“Sorry, did I freak you out?” He asks, “I’m really not trying to pressure you, just got excited thinking about it.”

“I know, Jacob, it’s not that, it’s just... a lot.”

“Totally get it,” he intones, “let me know whenever you got an answer. Uh, where are you? I’m tryna find you.”

“Just stay there, I'll come back to the house,” you assure him, happy to focus on the game instead.

Still, you can’t entirely lose yourself in it. You’re sure he’s a nice guy. From pictures, he’s less than scary, and he’s never been anything but friendly. It’s not like the other dudes you meet online who jump to asking about your bra size and all that. It just isn’t smart.

Well, maybe if you don’t show up alone. You know what con he’s talking about and Kara from Econ lives near there. You could probably convince her to meet up. Hm, that might work.

Just like you told him, you’ll have to think about it.

#andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #end game #series #defending jacob

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thevioletcaptain · 3 days

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I know the ask is about ships but could you make a non ship one with Dean and Carlos from the Winchesters? I can't think of an exact thing for Dean to say, but the first sentence can be what Dean would say for their first meeting. Thank you if you can (*^‿^*)

"I like your hair," Dean says, staring up from where he's clinging to the bottom of Mary's winter coat, and Carlos grins wide when he adds, with all the breathless gravity of a four year old eager to impress their opinions upon a new friend; "It's swooshy and it's pretty like Mommy's hair, and your-- your beads are pretty and shiny and shiny is my favorite color."

"Swooshy and pretty and shiny is exactly what I was going for, so thank you, little buddy."

Even with almost six years between now and the last time he'd seen Mary, Carlos is relieved to find that they still have a good sense of one-another -- can still communicate silently, swiftly, like they used to when it was life or death. He meets her eye, and her face softens, and understanding passes between them before he slides one of his lucky beaded bracelets -- the bloodstone one -- free.

Dean's eyes light up when he takes it.

When he smiles, he looks just like his mother.

[for this askbox game if anyone else wants to send me a prompt]

#supernatural #the winchesters #supernatural fic #the winchesters fic #dean and carlos #hi anon i love you and YES you can have a platonic dean and carlos ficlet!!!#for the record this is set in the uh... the prime universe? og spn universe?#did we ever reach a consensus on what to call the different 'verses?#but yeah this is a world in which the events of the winchesters didn't happen #so mary got out of the hunting life as she did in spn and lost touch with carlos and lata and ada #and carlos has been on the road #and just happened to be passing through lawrence when he bumped into a heavily pregnant mary with a four year old dean at the grocery store #so here we are :P #cass writes fic #fandom: supernatural #fandom: the winchesters #also now i've made myself extremely sad thinking about a year later #carlos swinging through lawrence again and going over to the house to visit mary and meet her husband and the new baby #and finding the house abandoned and ravaged by fire #checking the local newspapers and discovering that mary had died and her kids and husband have dropped off the map #having to call lata and ada to tell them #and then not reconnecting with dean (and meeting sam) until many many years later #when they happen to be hunting the same monster #and he realizes who they are #and is absolutely distraught over what has become of mary's children #especially the sweet little boy who'd been so enamoured of carlos' pretty hair and jewelry #also i linked to a picture of bloodstone because it is indeed very pretty #and i chose that as the stone used in the bracelet carlos gives dean for several reasons:#it symbolises strength and resilience and encourages growth and positivity generally but also especially during times of hardship #so i've basically decided that carlos helped keep dean safe for many years thanks carlos <3

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the-ace-with-spades · 1 day

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another bit from the just hold my hand fic that probably won't ever be written

I wrote the little thingy about Bradley and Jake's middle kid, Ronnie, being a bit of Ice's favorite, and Mav might have a bit of a soft spot for PJ, their youngest (so far...) boy because of the shared name and the overall cuteness and clinginess PJ has.

But it's the twins, the oldest girls, Tommy and Nicky, that have everyone wrapped around their fingers.

This is mostly due to that one) they can speak, being almost six and all, two) they speak a lot and it's hard to keep up, and three) Mav and Ice missed the most out of their childhood, the over five years they didn't know Tommy and Nicky existed, so they might be overdoing it on spoiling them a little bit to catch up... (Or a lot, if you ask Bradley or Jake)

The thing is, the girls are starting school and with that, they meet new friends and this means new obsessions and things they want - it's mostly just trendy clothes, toys that they've never been interested in and dance and gymnastics classes, but nonetheless, it's something else.

Bradley and Jake are mostly good at fending off unnecessary or expensive requests and agreeing to the more reasonable ones (same as Jake's mom, who is used to having to budget for a lot of kids wants, being a mom of six herself), with Jake being the firmer hand on this occasion - Bradley was the one who stayed on parental leave with the kids when they were small and has a bit more of soft hand when it comes to spoiling them...

One of the things Nicky and Tommy get obsessed with is getting a puppy.

Obviously, Jake and Bradley say no. Not because they think a puppy would be bad for their family - Jake grew up with farm dogs and would love his kids to grow up with a dog - but because the logistics are a bit tough. There's already so much to do with four kids and more on the way, and dogs need a lot of attention as well. They're stationed in San Diego, for now, but it can also change, and it's hard enough trying to move a family of seven, not to mention a family of seven and a dog.

Now, Tommy and Nicky aren't blind to how much their grandpas are spoiling them. So they might or might not be especially vocal about wanting a dog around them. Maybe even suggest that they'd like a puppy for Christmas or something and just tell them about all the stuff they'd do with a puppy if they got one.

Of course Mav and Ice fall for it.

They're not as crazy as to buy/adopt a puppy for the kids without at least telling Bradley, and Bradley, you know, teases them a little for being so soft and letting themselves get 'manipulated' by six-year-olds but in the end, he tells them there's no way they can have a puppy now, no matter how much the girls want one.

The same night, Ice finds Mav browsing animal rescue sites on the couch, laptop on his knees as he makes notes in a little notebook.

Bradley said no, he signs, but Mav only shrugs.

"I know," Mav says and then pointedly, adds, "I'm not looking for a dog for them."

It takes Ice a minute to understand what Mav means but once he does, he sits down with him on the couch.

And it's not like Mav is looking for a dog just for the twins - he and Ice will be taking care of the puppy most of the time, and Mav admits that a dog is something he hasn't let himself have because of the life they were living (in the Navy, mainly) but he's retired now, and he had a dog when he was a kid and like it, and maybe it'll get Ice out of the house more often as well...

So, yeah, they get a french bulldog. And the kids love her - she was a rescue from a puppy farm and named Katharine Hepburn (called Hep by the breeders) and the kids swiftly rename her Kat, which everyone finds a bit silly but indulges.

Maybe Jake and Bradley give them a bit of a stinky eye over dinner (mostly Jake, not that Mav cares that much...), but Bradley only shakes his head and tells them they can't keep getting the kids everything they want. Well, personally Mav thinks they can at least try.

Kat is an amazing addition to the house. She likes to sleep in Ice's lap whenever he does paperwork in his office and prompts him for breaks when she begs for a walkie every few hours. She also makes them go out on walks on the beach or to the park more often and whenever the kids are there, she glows at the attention - they always keep an eye just in case the kids get a bit rough with her, but she's very patient and never gets bored enough to stop playing with them and lets the twins carry her around in her little bag. She gets plenty of exercise and affection and quality food and Mav also has someone to keep him company when he makes breakfast in the morning or someone to keep Ice's cold feet away from his calves at night. The twins like to buy her little cute accessories and feed her healthy snacks and take her out to the dog park. It's a win-win in Mav's head.

Kat is great and if her presence makes the twins want to visit more often - that's just another bonus.

#icemav #hangster #old married icemav getting a dog is something so soft and personal to me #they need grandkids and a dog okay #hangster kids #just hold my hand tag

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acalamity · 3 days

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author's note

first time using tumblr, this account has been untouched for a while. I'm sorry for any mistakes (typos or anything else) and hello!! :D

this idea was supposed to be for a fic (vibrant ribbons weave astral reverie) but I scrapped it since it was too much, so this is a snippet. here's part two

lookism! jake kim x reader as seperated childhood friends. reader is an aspiring tailor.

more under the wubbaboo!!

Jake Kim wondered what else changed in the time you were apart. He used to be your partner, your ride and die. Now, after so many years of seperation, you are different.

Of course you are, you've matured and gone through puberty. You've graduated high school while he dropped out, and chased your ambitions while he was rooted in Big Deal. The two of you lived very different lives, and somehow— no matter how close he is to you physically, the gaping distance is always there. In his heart, he is always a step away from you.

"Jake."

Maybe you'll have to part ways again one day. Criminal life is very dangerous, and he would rather not have you involved in any fights.

"Jake?"

Or maybe you'll grow too big for his little and humble street. He's sure you'll reach great heights and he looks forward to the day you'll stand on a grand stage. A stage grander than he can imagine.

"Jake!"

"Ow!"

He winced, face crinkling as his hand unwittingly travelled up to his face. From beside him, he could see you staring at him with your arms crossed over your chest, very much unamused. Instantly, the leader pieced together that you had probably pinched his cheek to snap him out of his stupor, "What was that for?"

"I've been calling your name for a while." You sighed, "What we're you thinking about?"

"Oh, you know. . ." Jake trailed off, he's not sure how to tell you about the thoughts rampant in his mind, so he settled for a question instead, "[Name], since when did you pick up archery?"

Oh, you realised, bringing up your bandaged fingers and palms, glancing over your hands swiftly, he was concerned.

The words that fall out of your lips are slow— and Jake realised you were unravelling an old, old, hidden wound, ". . . Out of my own frustration, I ran away from my mentors once."

"I was alone and young so a few people came up to me. Although I managed to escape in the end, I promised hat I would never let something like that happen to myself again." You huffed through your nose, "I had to start somewhere and my mentor just so happen to have a bow."

". . . I'm sorry." If he was there, a part of your life instead of living in bloodshed and chasing dirty money that did nothing to save his own predecessor, he would have ran away with you. Yet he was not there, and he can't take the wounds on your hands or your invisible battles away, "Sorry."

"Hm? What are you apologizing for now? Did you accidentally ruin my mannequins again?" Even you didn't know how he did it that one time, but he did.

His reply was instant, eyes wide and dumbfounded, "No!"

"You broke my belongings when we were children too. Then you'd come to me apologizing with that wide-eyed, kicked puppy look on your face." You stared at this face, holding back a laugh with a sigh, "Exactly like that face you're making now. Some things never change."

Jake blinked, once, twice— and just like that he was smiling along with you, "Do you still like the cookies I gave you?"

Gave you after everytime he kicked you in his sleep, kept you up with his snores and unintentionally roughhoused your items, he meant. Of course, like a good elder (of one year) and role model, he'd give Jerry some too.

"Those peanut cookies you received from Uncle Jinyoung and gave Jerry and I as an apology?" There was a nervous chuckle, "Yes, why bring it up?"

"I wanted to know." The beaming gleam in his eyes gave his simple answer away, "That's all."

And two days later, Jerry handed you a bunch of deformed peanut cookies, "Boss Jake wanted to give this to you personally, but he's stuck in his office."

"Well, drag him out." You took the package, and walked pass the second-hand. From what you could tell the cookies were homemade, with plenty of effort and struggle and not much success— though it probably wouldn't taste good, it makes your heart feel warm even in the chilly wind. With a huff, you turned to your friend, "Jerry, let's bother him for old times' sake."

"Please go ahead, Boss Jake is in his office now." And though Jerry is very much against bothering his boss, he can't find it in him to stop you, especially when he knows you'll never actually be a bother his boss. True to his thoughts, Jake's face lit up when he sees you.

"There you go again. Were you waiting for me to come?" So perhaps Jake was hoping you would barge into his office, like you barged into his life many years ago. You sat down next to Jake, placing the pouch of cookies down, "I received the goods—"

"You make it sound like I'm dealing drugs."

"— thank you."

A light remark, perhaps a bit teasing, "Can I have some?"

A pointed look without heat, "After you finish your paperwork."

"[Name]." He called out to you after moments of silence, "Hm? What is it?"

His expression was warm, tainted by overflowing affection, and whisper gentle, like a muted memory of a lullaby, "Thanks for coming."

The person in front of you is no longer the not-so-little bratty menace with chubby cheeks, he has grown beyond your expectations. In the future, the both of you surely continue to change, for good or bad, no one knows. But you (the no-nonsense peanut cookie muncher) are still the same person crafted by your childhood together, and he will surely have many more moments together with you. And those too, will be just as precious as the old stories that shine in his memories.

In the little office, so that he may witness the rest of your life, Jake weaved your name into his heart.

#lookism #lookism x reader #manhwa #jake kim

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aziraphales-library · 1 hour

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Do you have any marriage proposals fics? :)

We have a #proposal tag, so make sure to check that! Here are more to add to the collection...

Lost and Found by belovedhypnos (T)

Aziraphale is certain that Crowley will propose soon. There must be a reason why it's taking the demon longer than expected? * Takes place after the show, in a world where another Apocalypse was avoided and Aziraphale and Crowley are in an established relationship.

There's Always Us by FandomStar (T)

This story begins as it shall end, in a garden. Not in the Garden of Eden, but the Garden of Aziraphale and Crowley.

As You Wish by PirateFanatic (T)

Aziraphale adores public marriage proposals. Crowley – not as such. But whatever the angel wants…

to the world by rainbowumbrella (T)

Crowley’s problem is quite simple - he’s already proposed. Aziraphale, in an act of what Crowley can only assume is meant to be kind, painful as it might be, has simply failed to answer and ignored the question entirely. Which he has to assume means that the answer is no, that it was no then - and of course it was no then, they were barely into the acknowledging-their-friendship phase at the time and Crowley had just really stuck his foot in his mouth - and continues to be no now. *** Every human in Crowley’s life thinks he should propose. Crowley would agree if it weren’t for the fact that he already has.

crazy little thing called love by sleepy_angel (G)

"You were very good at that," he says, before taking a sip of his tea. "Temptation. You are good at it, I rather meant," he corrected himself. He sipped his tea as he sat on the chair by his desk, sinking into the softness. Crowley blinks up at him and straightens his back. He laughs, a strained, breathy noise, and Aziraphale can't tell if it's from discomfort or something else. "Like you'd know." Aziraphale sips his tea, urging him with a raised eyebrow to go on. "I mean... angels can't exactly be tempted." "You'd be surprised," says Aziraphale, and elaborates no further. Or, Aziraphale plans to propose at the ritz. Decidedly, he's not the only one.

Headlights by RoswellSmokingWoman (M)

Aziraphale made Crowley want to believe in the ineffability of a God that brought them together. Crowley made Aziraphale want to sacrifice his religion and worship their love instead. But that was then when love was enough to bring together two fools desperate to make it work. Three years after their divorce, Aziraphale and Crowley aren't talking. They've tried to move on, but neither can. It should be their anniversary, on New Year's Eve, but they're not together. They should be together. Aziraphale calls. He's not even sure whether Crowley will pick up, but he does. They see each other again for the first time in years, and it's a whirlwind. It's time to heal old wounds, put aside their differences, and make their relationship work again. They already know the alternative, and know they can't live like that anymore.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #proposal #fluff #romantic fluff #mod d

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dayseternal-blog · 3 days

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Heeeey I love your naruhina fic recommendations! <3 do you know some fic where it is one sided for Naruto because of bad timing, Hinata stopped loving him at some point thinking it was all a silly childhood crush but now Naruto has just realized he is madly in love with her and daydreams of her attention? Extra points if Hinata gets to REJECT him 🤌🤌🤌

omg caricloudi there is unfortunately the exact fic for you, I don't know why I didn't answer this sooner:

"April - Too late/Missed opportunities" from "Still Falling for You" by @chloelapomme - Rated T, Modern AU, One-shot. If they had said to each other what they felt for each other three years ago, everything would've been completely different today.

Also!

"Lovelorn" by @char-lotteral - Rated E, Canon-Divergent AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. After 3 long years of travelling the world, Naruto comes back to Konoha only to find out that Hinata Hyuga has been engaged to another.

and then in these, Hinata gives the "good friend" card to Naruto, so not an outright confession & rejection, but Naruto feels rejected all the same.

“21 Days” by @bunny-hoodlum - Rated E, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Anonymous internet buddies decide to meet up IRL and give each other their first times.

“The Ramen Booth” by chloelapomme - Rated E, College AU, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. Years have passed since her unanswered confession in intermediate school, since his humiliating hazing incident in high school, since blossoming popularity drew their attentions away from each other. Yet time has only sharpened friendship into painful longing, even as their time runs out with the approach of the university fundraiser. Can 7 Minutes in Heaven at a crazy flat party be enough time to clear the air between old best friends?

Other Hinata "Moving On" Fics

“The Loving Type” by @peppercornpresses - Rated M, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. A few years have passed since the Fourth Shinobi War, in which…Neji Survives. Naruto and Sasuke are crowned heroes. Rookie Nine steadily advances in rank. And Naruto and Hinata aren’t even remotely together…YET!

“My Favorite Night” by peppercornpress - Rated M, Canon-Divergent AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. Hinata harbors deeper feelings for Naruto after three years of being his roommate. Facing hostile relations from her old clan, another odd phenomenon with the moon, and Naruto still hopelessly pining after Sakura; Hinata makes the painful choice to end their sham of a relationship and try her luck in another hidden village. Unbeknownst to her, this move kickstarts a series of events that forces her and Naruto to confront their past, present, and future.

“In Another Life” by theGeneralissimo - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Complete. In which Naruto listens to his mother’s advice and marries a girl like her. And lives to regret it.

“Common Side Effects” by katarinahime & “Medicated” by szajnie - Rated E for a lot of things, Crime/Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Naruto and Hinata, in a struggling relationship, must confront the pain inside before they can love each other.

“Why would innocent little Hinata be out dressed like that?” (One-shot) and its follow-up “On Any Given Day” (Long One-Shot) by @utsus - Rated T, Canon-Divergent. Hinata tries to move on from Naruto, right when he realizes he wants to keep her.

“A Cliche Not So Cliche Story” by @journalsofagoddess - Rated T, Modern AU, One-shot. Everyone has heard about the typical love story where the boy gets the girl and they live happily ever after. But what people tend to forget is that life isn’t always like that. Naruto and Hinata came to realize how cruel the world can be but also something akin to forgiving too. A love story that’s typical yet not so typical at all.

“Because I Love You” aka “Arranged Marriage AU Take 2″ (Same fic) by @magmawrites - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, One-shot. A canon divergent fic in which The Last never happened and Hinata Hyuga was promised to another.

“You’re the One” by AnimeloverNUMBA100 - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Complete. After 4 desperate years, Hinata finally asked Naruto out. He decides to give her a chance, but his feelings for Sakura has never faded. Hinata is slowly losing hope as time goes on…and she soon chooses to leave him.

“Road to Redemption” by averagejane497 - Rated M for implied rape, implied smut, and character death, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Complete. Naruto’s made a lot of mistakes in his life, especially concerning the women he loves. Maybe this time he can get it right.

and I almost forgot the one I wrote:

"White Lilies" - Rated E, Canon-Divergent AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. A Hanahaki AU - She knit a red scarf for him. She never gave it to him. Days turned into months, months turned into too late. Naruto starts dating. Hinata decides to move on. A sickness takes root in the heart.

Happy angsty reading!!!

#caricloudi #naruhina fanfic recs #naruhina angst

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jjkamochoso · 1 day

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Hi again :3 more noritoshi stuff,,, it's his birthday soon! Maybe reader takes him out on a date to celebrate ^_^

Yessss omg I’m loving writing these birthday fics because I’m the biggest lover of birthday celebrations so this is a total treat for me!! And as everyone knows Noritoshi is my number one so let’s celebrate him as much as we can🥳🎉 thank you for your request, I appreciate it so so much!!! Also I kinda ran away with this so I hope it still meets your expectations lol🫣❤️

The Best Birthday Boy

Fluff

Noritoshi Kamo x gn!reader

Warnings: none

When you asked Noritoshi what he wanted to do for his birthday this year, he told you he had never given that June day much thought and every year he treats it as any other day, going through the same routine and not doing anything special. You definitely weren’t letting that happen this year so you immediately went into planning mode, deciding how to make this day filled with memories he’d cherish for a long time. Now you were standing outside his door, balloons and flowers taking up all the use of your hands while you tried your best to knock on the frame with your foot. He either heard your knocking or your struggle outside but either way, he was there in an instant, opening the door to reveal you and your gifts.

“Happy birthday!” you greeted. Noritoshi looked taken aback as he let you inside.

“Is this all for me?” he asked, taking the bouquet from you so you weren’t juggling as many things.

“Of course, silly,” you replied, tying the huge group of balloons to his bedpost, “and this is just a taste of the fun to come. Are you ready for your big day of surprises?”

“Trust me, this is more than enough,” he told you, sincerity shining from his gray eyes as he wrapped you in a big hug. “You by my side is the greatest gift I’ve ever received.”

“Sounds like you’re getting sentimental in your old age.”

Noritoshi playfully scoffed as he pulled away from you to fill a vase with water for the flowers you brought him. “It’s my birthday, you have to be nice to me.”

“I am!” you whined. “Besides, I could’ve greeted you today with birthday punches instead of gifts. One for each year.”

“People seriously do that?” His voice was filled with concern as you laughed and shook your head.

“Yep. Apparently it’s very popular. But,” you ruffled his hair a bit, “I’d never lay anything but a loving touch on my precious Nori.”

He ducked out of your assaulting reach as you fell into another bout of giggles and he rolled his eyes.

“Alright, where are you kidnapping me to first?”

“Can’t tell ya.” You winked. “But I can say we’ll be outside and then walking around other places so dress casually and wear comfy shoes.”

“Got it.”

He left to get dressed and you looked around his place thoughtfully. Everything was always in such neat order and you were awestruck by the high level of organization and cleanliness he never failed to commit to. You noticed that there weren’t many personal items present as he opted to keep the decoration to a minimum, but your heart did a flip in your chest when you spied a picture frame showcasing you and him together. It was a selfie you had taken on one of your dates and while you were smiling at the camera, Noritoshi was resting his softest loving gaze on you. It was a picture you both treasured and you were honored that he felt strongly enough about you to keep your relationship so brazenly on display. You were pulled from your thoughts when you heard him enter the room again and your breath hitched in your throat when you saw how handsome he looked. He was sporting dark linen pants and a white t shirt that accentuated his muscles perfectly. He opted for white sneakers and topped the whole outfit off with a black fanny pack slung over his shoulder. He looked breathtakingly attractive in this sporty outfit and you were quick to let him know.

“Woah. You always look hot but this look really suits you.”

Noritoshi couldn’t help but blush at your words. “Are you trying to embarrass me into oblivion on purpose?”

“What? No,” you said, pouting a bit before placing a kiss on his cheek, “but it’s my duty as your partner to remind you how alluring you are.”

You started peppering more kisses on his cheek before moving to his nose, chin, other cheek, then placed one on his lips.

“There,” you mumbled, “instead of birthday punches, you get birthday kisses.”

“Much more agreeable,” said Noritoshi, locking your lips together once more. When you pulled apart for air, you jumped out of his grasp as fast as possible.

“Okay! You’ve bewitched me enough today, sir, it’s now time for the birthday celebration to begin! No more smooching or we’ll never leave.”

“Fine by me,” he shrugged and you shot him a look. “I mean, uh, let’s get going.”

“That’s what I thought,” a triumphant tone coating your voice. You took Noritoshi by the hand and led him into a Kyoto neighborhood that was about 20 minutes away.

“This is an interesting route you’re taking me,” Noritoshi hummed as you walked along the empty streets.

“I’m glad it’s quiet today. I think the universe is on our side.”

You continued walking until you finally arrived at your destination.

“A cafe? Coffee sounds perfect right now,” said an excited Noritoshi, opening the door for you. You walked in and had a quick conversation with the woman at the counter, keeping Noritoshi out of earshot. When you joined his side again, he narrowed his eyes at you.

“What did you plan for me here?”

“Don’t worry, it’s fun, I promise. Just be patient.”

“I’m going to say I trust you but I’m not sure how accurate that is right now.”

“You’ll get your coffee in a few moments, no need to get feisty.”

“You’re a pain, you know that?”

“But I’m your pain.”

You gave him a wink and the woman called you two over to a secluded table in the back. Laid out in front of you were 10 small sized cups, each filled with a different coffee flavor.

“It’s a tasting selection,” you explained to Noritoshi, thanking the woman as she left, “these are all rare, specialty coffee flavors you can’t get anywhere else in the city. I talked to the owner and she’s allowed us to try each one and whichever we like the best, we can get a full cup of and a bag to roast at home.”

His eyes sparkled with gratitude. “Y/n, that’s… this is amazing. You’re amazing. Thank you.”

“Anything for you.” You gave his hand a quick squeeze before he pulled the chair out for you and you took a seat, him doing the same across from you. You had a great time sampling all the variations while chatting aimlessly with your happy boyfriend. You were relieved that he was very much enjoying himself, liking the challenge of identifying all the flavor notes in every cup. When they were all empty, you told the owner which ones you two liked the best and she gave you each a full to-go cup and bags of the beans. You thanked her profusely once more as you took your leave, sipping on the delicious drink.

“That was truly one of the coolest things I’ve ever experienced,” said Noritoshi, holding your hand as you walked to your next destination.

“I’m really glad you liked it. I was nervous that it would be too boring or something.”

“What? No way. Coffee can never be boring. It’s my favorite thing ever. Behind you, of course.”

“Nice save,” you replied jokingly. As you traversed the city sidewalks, it seemed all the birds and animals were out for their own strolls, too. You and Noritoshi had a fantastic time watching them scurry along on the mild summer day. There was one squirrel who seemingly led you to the park where the next birthday surprise was.

“Here we are!” you announced. A picnic blanket was splayed out under a big shady tree and on it was a huge array of snack foods, games, and art supplies. Noritoshi stared in wonder and delight as he took in this new portion of the celebration, unsure of what to say.

“I know, it’s a lot, but you deserve it all.”

“How did you…?” His sentence trailed off, finding it difficult to come to terms with the kindness you’d showed him.

“Miwa,” you confessed. “She set this all up while we were at the cafe.”

“Woah,” he breathed out, sitting down on the blanket. “I really don’t know… this is beyond words, y/n. I don’t know how to thank you.”

“It’s your day to be doted on because I’m celebrating you and how happy you’ve made me all this time. I wanted to return the favor and make you feel as special as you make me feel every day.”

You leaned over and grabbed the paint brushes and some games. “Alright birthday boy, what’s first? Painting plein air or party games?”

Noritoshi chose to paint first and you set up the canvases and paint while he snacked on the food you prepared. The afternoon went by in a flash as you created artful pieces and played games to your heart’s content. You even took some time just to lay on the blanket and watch the clouds roll by as Noritoshi held you to his chest, not wanting to let go of the person he loved so very much. As the sun started to go down, you decided to pack everything up and head back to your room for one more surprise. You made Noritoshi wait outside as you put away the picnic supplies and prepared the rest of the celebration.

“Okay, I’m going to cover your eyes so you don’t peek,” you said, placing your hands on his face.

“An old man like me can’t be trusted to not spoil a surprise?” he teased.

“I won’t hesitate to cover your mouth, too. Don’t test me.”

You slowly walked him into your room, being careful to not let him trip.

“Ready? Three, two, one.”

Your hands fell from his skin and he couldn’t help but gasp a little at the sight he walked into. Your whole room was decked out in birthday decorations, streamers and balloons covering almost every inch of space. A stack of presents wrapped in brightly colored paper was residing in a corner and a round cake with candles was placed on one of your tables.

“Happy birthday, my love.”

Noritoshi couldn’t form a coherent thought, glancing between you and the festive room a few times before settling on bringing you into a long, deep kiss to show his appreciation when words failed him. Even though you’ve kissed him a fair amount of times during your relationship, you never lost the butterfly feeling in your stomach every time he pulled you in and met your lips with his own. You didn’t want to pull away but you also didn’t want the cake to start melting so you reluctantly shimmied from his gentle grasp and grabbed a lighter, setting the candles ablaze.

“Make a wish,” you whispered, your face warming from the affectionate stare of your lover. He blew out the candles in one swift exhale and you got to work slicing up pieces of the cake. You handed him a big slice on a paper birthday plate, then began savoring the delectable dessert.

“This is so delicious,” Noritoshi complimented. “It’s almost as sweet as you are.”

“Oh stop,” you chided, wiping a small bit of frosting on his nose. “You have a little something on your face.”

“I wonder how that got there,” he replied sarcastically. You giggled and grabbed a napkin, cleaning him up. When your plates were empty, you cleared them and brought over his gifts.

“Y/n, I can’t take much more of this whole birthday thing, I feel too guilty. You’ve done so much already, I certainly didn’t need presents as well.”

“Aww, that’s too bad I lost the receipts and can’t return any of them,” you shrugged. Noritoshi just shook his head while chuckling a bit and began opening his gifts. You had gotten him a fancy coffee machine that could make almost any type of drink his heart desired, a gift card to the local sporting goods store for archery supplies, and a shiny yet understated silver chain bracelet.

“I’m so grateful for everything you’ve done for me today,” Noritoshi said as you clasped the bracelet onto his wrist. “I still don’t think I’m worthy of all this spoiling but I’m thankful for you showing me how much you care.”

“You’re the love of my life, Noritoshi. You being born is a worthy cause for celebration in my book. I don’t know where I would’ve been without you in my life and I’m appreciative that I’ll never have to know what that’s like.”

The black haired man took your hand in his as he ushered you to the couch, eager to cuddle you in the quiet calm of your room, away from any prying eyes or gossipy mouths. More of these tender moments with you were what he wished for earlier and it seemed to have already begun coming true. You both eventually fell asleep, content in the comfort of each other’s arms, stomachs and hearts full. If you thought today was filled to the brim with fun, Noritoshi couldn’t wait to show you how he’ll celebrate your birthday next.

#noritoshi x reader #noritoshi x reader fluff #noritoshi kamo x reader #noritoshi kamo x reader fluff #noritoshi #noritoshi kamo #noritoshi x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk fanfic #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk fluff

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alittlebitofloveliness · 3 days

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Outsiders Prompt Fic #11- "This ain't my first rodeo kid"

This one was requested by @whitemanswh0re3 who requested prompt 10 for Tim Shepard. I had a lot of fun with this one, and got to include some Curly and Angela shenanigans so I hope y'all enjoy!

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Tim should have known better.

His first mistake was forgetting to hide ma’s liquor bottles before she woke up that morning. His second was paying more attention to Manuel’s report on their business with the Brumly boys than to his pissed off little sister, and his third was leaving the twins alone for more than five minutes without adequate supervision.

This is his fault, but all Angela’s doing. She’s mad at him so now she's getting even, and shit he’s gonna have a miserable night isn’t he? He should have known better. She’s not one to mess with. He supposes it’s his own fault- he raised her to take no shit, but honestly, she's not supposed to turn his teachings against him. She’d wanted his attention before and he’d ignored her, so now she’d gone and made it impossible for him to ignore her a second longer.

“Timmy!” Ma’s eyes are jewel bright, the booze making her happy before the comedown makes her mad. That’s fine. That’s par for the course. “Carinõ, come sit with us.”

He takes in the scene in front of him. Bottles and powders- familiar evidence of Ma’s debauchery- covering every surface, his baby brother on the floor, half hidden behind the couch, his little sister bleary eyed and all but collapsed into Ma’s side.

“Come sit with us,” he can hear the deadly disbelief in his voice, “Come sit with us? With you and my seven year old baby siblings you let get drunk with you?”

She scoffs at him. Actually scoffs.

“They’ve only had a sip or two, they’re fine.”

He should have known something like this would happen the minute Angel started sucking up to Ma. Angela hates Ma. Of course she had ulterior motives. How could he be so stupid?

“They! Are! Seven! Years! Old!” He all but howls, “You shouldn’t have given them any! Jesus Christ woman, I know you decided not to be our mother but you could at least use some goddamn common sense! You don’t give children alcohol for fucks sakes.”

“Angel wanted some.” She’s petulant, like a scolded child, and Tim hates that he’s stuck raising her right along with his siblings.

“Angel wants a lotta things, and at least half of them will kill her,” he levels a glare at his sister, who doesn’t seem to really hear him before turning back to Ma “she’s gotta learn the meanin’ of no and you bet your ass I’m gonna teach it to her just as soon as I make sure they ain’t gonna die of alcohol poisonin’ because of you.”

Ma doesn’t look ashamed. She never does, never once feels guilty when she should no matter what she’s done or how much she’d hurt them. Nothing is ever her fault, not when she didn't buy enough food to feed them when they were little, not when she forgot they existed and left for a week when she went on a bender, not when her boyfriends beat on him and Curly or got too friendly with Angela. To Maria, nothing is ever her fault. Letting the twins go hog wild on her Jose Cuervo won’t be any different. She’ll blame him or fate or her piece of shit ex husband, if all else fails she’ll call it an accident but she’ll never admit that it’s all her fault. Her fault for never getting to know her children as more than dolls to play with when she's bored, her fault for giving up on mothering when he was four and never trying again, even when she had new babies, her fault for being so pathetically broken she doesn’t know- or worse just doesn’t care- what giving free access to her poison of choice could do to children who are already too used to numbing their pain in any way they can find.

He hates her. He hates her so much.

Curly is sprawled across the floor by the couch, glassy eyed and babbling to himself. The kid already never shuts up and whatever poison Ma had given him seems to have cut off his filter altogether. It don’t matter that no ones listening to him- Curly’s off in his own little world, entertaining himself. He’s a lonely kid, Tim’s seen it, seen how he’s always a bit too strange, a bit too callous, a bit too wild to every truly fit in- he supposes it’s good the kid has learned to entertain himself. Even still, he hates seeing it like this.

“What did they have?” he grits through a mask of forced calm. He’ll deal with Ma later. For now, the kids have to come first, and per usual he's the only one around willing to recognize that. “How much did you give them?”

“Really Timmy, I don’t know what you’re all up in arms about, my mama got me started early-”

“-Look how well that turned out for you, huh?” He sneers, glad to see her flinch. “Now I ain’t gonna ask you again: how much did they have and what exactly did you give them?”

“They been sippin’ from my bottle with me,” she holds up her good old Jose Cuervo bottle that Tim wants to smash against the fucking wall, “and I think Angel stole a bite or two of brownie when my back was turned.”

“She got into the grass?”

“It ain’t my fault! They’re devils, both of them. They wouldn’t listen to me when I said it wasn’t for kids, she just wanted sweets!”

“Fuck!” He kicks the beat up coffee table sending empties crashing to the floor, “fuck!”

“If they get proper sick from this,” he whirls on Maria, jabbing a finger in her direction and she cringes back. He knows he looks like Pa when he’s mad like this, it’s why usually he fights so hard to keep his temper under control. RIght now though, he doesn’t much care if he reminds her of him. Let her be scared. He hopes she feels even half the terror he’s feeling right now. “If I gotta take them to the ER or Curly chokes on his own puke or Angel finds she’s got a taste for the good stuff at seven fucking years old- I swear to god I will kill you. So you better pray they’re alright.”

She swallows, suddenly quiet and the only noise in the room is Curly’s incessant babbling, but Tim doesn’t drop eye contact and she must know he means it because without another word she rises from the couch, and stumbles down the hall closing the door of her room behind her with a snap.

Tim sighs. One problem dealt with, two to go, one of whom is having a conversation with the ceiling and the other of which seems fascinated by the feeling of the couch cushion against her cheek.

Jesus Christ.

The twins have always been small, wiry and wild as any feral animal, and he fears it’s yet another disadvantage working against them tonight, as the alcohol and the weed is bound to do a lot more damage to their systems than it would to anyone actually old enough to be playing with substances. However, their is one advantage to them being small that Tim learned very early on to use to his advantage, and that’s this: he can still manage to pick them both up at once.

He scoops Angie up first, fixing her nightgown which has gotten twisted around her neck, and she rests her head on his shoulder, but apart from that doesn’t give any indication that she knows who he is or what’s going on. She gets like this sometimes anyway, quits talking and gets real blank looking so he can’t really tell if it’s the weed hitting her hard or not. Curly on the other hand, grins as soon as he sees him and doesn’t stop talking for even a second as Tim settles him on his hip and starts carrying them down the hall to their bedroom. They should’ve been asleep ages ago, and they’ll probably crash soon regardless, but it isn’t gonna offer him any sort of peace now is it, not when he’s gonna have to wake up every hour to check that they’re still breathing.

“...an’ mama’s friend Mark came over for a bit an’ I think he’s mean but mama said we had to be nice or we’d have to go away again and then Angela stole her brownie and didn’t even share with me e’en though I gave her an easter chocklit and then mama got mad at us for fighting so she said I could have more of her special drink so it was fair but her special drink hurt my mouth but I got in trouble for spittin’ it out an’ Mark belted me a goodun’ so I had to swallow all of it-”

“Curly,” Tim cut him off firmly. That’s how he always has to do stuff with the kid. Firm. Otherwise Curly don’t pay attention long enough to listen to anything, “what do you mean that bastard belted you?”

“He hit me,” Curly told him simply, and Tim hated how matter of fact he sounded. No seven year old should sound so blase about being smacked, “a goodun’ in the back, but I didn’t cry ‘cause I know you wouldn’t an’ I’m tough like you so I just glared at him and called him a motherfucker like you woulda-”

“Curly, let me see your back.”

He eased the kid’s t-shirt over Curly’s scrawny shoulders, feeling a new spike of rage at the hand shaped purple bruise blooming across Curly's shoulder. That asshole. Tim was gonna hunt him down and give him a taste of his own medicine. He’d learn not to mess with a Shepard ever again, and maybe he’d learn a lesson about beating little kids too.

“You did good kid,” Tim told him, fixing Curly’s t-shirt, “that bastard ain’t gonna take a swing at you again, y’hear?”

“I’ll beat him up if he tries. You can help,” Curly offers magnanimously, “you’re real good at beatin’ people up. I bet me’n you could beat up anyone if we tried. Even a football player soc.”

“Even a football player soc.” Tim agrees, hating the softness that’s welling in his chest. He’s supposed to be angry at them- they’re big enough to know they aren’t supposed to talk to Ma if he isn’t around and he’s had the talk about not eating or drinking anything Ma gives them more than once- but it’s hard when the booze has made Curly so sweet, and Angel so cuddly, curled into his lap. They’ll be grumpy tomorrow, sick and sore, and hopefully that’ll teach them a lesson, but for now he figures he can afford to be a little extra nice to them. After all, it doesn’t sound like Ma or latest her boyfriend had been earlier.

“Angel’s bein’ real quiet doncha think?” Curly really couldn’t shut up if his life depended on it. Tim just hums, shifting so he’s leaning against the wall, Angela in his lap and Curly leaning into his side. “She says that brownie made her feel all floaty and thet talkings making her sick, but that drink made my head cloudy too and I don’t feel sick so I thought it was maybe an al-er-gic reaction like Saide Thomason had at school except I made her blow on my hand and could feel the air so I guess she’s still breathing, which is good because I don’t want Angel to stop breathin’.”

He pats her cheek none too gently but Angela doesn’t seem to mind, offering him a dopey smile,far less guarded than her usual one. Yeah, she’s real out of it, but Curly’s assessment seems to ring true, and Tim thinks she’ll be ok.

“Angel’s my best friend, did you know?” Curly informs him, before looking down at his twin sister, “You’re my best friend Angel, even though you are plain old mean sometimes. It’s ok though ‘cause I am too sometimes, and usually you’re just mean ‘cause you're sad, and I figure that’s alright. Ponyboy says you should try not to be mean ever but he also called Dillon an asshole at recesss yesterday so he’s a hyp- hypo-critter or whatever it’s called when you’re a big dirty liar-”

Curly’s mouth was still spilling words at warp speed but his eyes were starting to droop, and Tim figured he’d talk himself to sleep pretty soon. Angel had already nodded off a minute ago, and the even breaths puffing out of her mouth between snores reassured him she was doing alright and wasn’t gonna overdose the way he’d been worried about since Ma let slip she’d got ahold of that brownie. Was he still gonna wait up to make sure? Obviously, but at least there wasn’t panicky tension thrumming under his skin anymore.

Curly dropped off to sleep exactly the way Tim knew he would, cutting himself off mid sentence and slumping against him. Tim sighed, waiting a minute to make sure he was truly out before carefully shifting him so he was curled up beside Angela, head tilted so he wouldn’t choke if he threw up in his sleep. Tim climbed off the bed, making sure not to jostle either of them lest he accidentally wake them up. Angel was blitzed outta her mind, and Curly had drunk himself into a near stupor, but he still wasn’t about to risk it.

He dragged Curly’s mattress across the room so he was right next to them when they inevitably woke up fussy, and quickly fell into a fitful doze.

He jerked awake an hour later, and after checking to make sure both kids were still sound asleep and triple checking they were breathing ok, fell back onto his own mattress.

The next time he wakes it’s to the sound of whimpering.

Internally cursing and blinking blearily he sits up to see Curly twisted in the blankets, hair flat on one side and eyes welling with unshed tears.

“Tim?” Curly sounds very small, “I don’t feel good.”

“Ok kid,” Tim sighs, swinging Curly into his arms and carrying him down to the bathroom, “it’s alright. This is just what happens when you drink Ma’s special drinks.”

“I don't wanna be sick,” Curly whines, a dangerous wobble in his voice, “I didn’t even like her special drink.”

Tim really, really can’t handle the waterworks right now.

“It’s alright kid, just let yourself throw up and you’ll feel better.”

Curly does, managing to get the whole mess in the bowl and isn’t that a fucking miracle since usually the bathroom looks like a crime scene whenever the twins get sick. Tim rubs his back, pushing his curls out of his face until he’s sure Curly’s done, then wets a corner of the hand towel with water and uses it to wipe his baby brother’s face.

“You’re real good at this,” Curly mumbles, already half asleep as Tim carries him back to bed.

“Yeah,” Tim agrees quietly, pressing a soft kiss to the sleeping kid’s forehead as he lays him next to Angela, “this ain’t my first rodeo kid.”

Curly snuffles a little, loud even in sleep, and Angela somehow managed to headbut him in the shoulder and toss an arm over his shoulders without waking up.

Tim regards them both a second longer, watches their chests rise and fall- breathing, alive, safe, if only for the moment, and drops back onto his own mattress for the night.

He'll be here when they wake up, but for now he’s gonna get some much needed sleep.

#the outsiders #tim shepard #curly shepard #angela shepard #ponyboy curtis

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silverstarfics · 3 days

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I was so determined to write something for this week’s @thunder-pride bingo square that I literally wrote this fic while having a minor allergic reaction on a plane - in other words there are definitely mistakes in this but please pretend not to notice them oops. Anyway, this is a longer fic than I'd usually post on here, so I recommend reading it on AO3 but I know some people prefer Tumblr, so here we are :))

AO3 link

Stray glitter itched under his left eye, his flag kept getting snagged on his baldric, and he could feel sweat prickling at the base of his spine despite the temperature regulator in his suit, yet Alan had never felt more comfortable in his own skin. His cheeks physically ached from so much smiling. He didn’t think he’d stopped grinning since he’d landed Tracy One on American soil two hours earlier – and no, that wasn’t just because he’d been reunited with his boyfriend. They hadn’t intended to spend practically three months apart – which had been a difficult adjustment after sharing an apartment for the past year – but the end of Alan’s semester meant he was officially back on the IR roster for the summer… just as a busy spell of rescues struck.

Technically, he was here on Official International Rescue Business: representing them at one of the world’s largest Pride parades. Usually, Gordon would have played the role, dressed up in yellow, pink and blue with an unholy amount of glittery body spray decorating not only his skin but his uniform. This year, Alan had taken up the reins. He secretly suspected his family had conspired to give him some downtime – because summer break was supposed to be restful, especially when you were an overachiever who’d decided to double major – and a chance to hang out with Brandon. He’d been instructed to have fun. Literally, Scott had texted him so.

Scotty: Have fun and enjoy your chance to be a dumb 20-year-old.

Scotty: Not too much fun though. You’re representing IR.

Alan had replied: so, on a scale from John to Gordon how much fun can I have?

Scotty: My level of fun only minus the daredevil risks.

Scotty: Just don’t get arrested, that’s all I ask.

“Coming to you from the Pride event of the year,” a loud voice declared dangerously close to Alan’s ear, jolting him out of his thoughts, “I’m here with a bi icon AKA my boyfriend-”

“Really?” he interrupted. “That’s how you’re introducing me?”

“Oh my god, fine.” Brandon hooked an arm around Alan’s neck and dragged him within view of the camera. “I’m here with International Rescue’s one and only Alan Tracy.”

“Better,” Alan accepted, trying to repress the urge to sneeze as Brandon’s flag drifted across his face. “Are you filming or livestreaming right now?”

“Filming,” Brandon assured him. “I’ll edit stuff out later, so you can relax.”

Alan flung his arms out to let his own flag billow in the light breeze. “Oh, I am so relaxed.”

Brandon, on the other hand, looked set to launch into orbit. He’d downed nearly a litre of soda since he’d met Alan at the airport and had chased it down with cotton candy and churros; he still had cinnamon dust on his face and it looked like extra freckles. The sugar rush had hit him around the same time as his adrenaline spike when music had begun to blare from speakers up-and-down the parade. He’d already had several fans come up to him for selfies and signatures which had only added to his energy levels. Even now, he was bouncing on the spot.

“Brand,” Alan tried to hiss, then raised his voice to be heard above the clamour of music and chatter and the swell of live instruments around them. “Brandon, dude, chill.”

“I am so frickin’ chill,” Brandon announced gleefully. He grabbed Alan’s hand and laced their fingers together, rising onto his toes – he hadn’t stopped complaining since Alan had hit the growth spurt that had placed him above Gordon and Virgil – to pull him into a kiss. “See? Chill.”

“Uh huh,” Alan deadpanned. “Super chill.” He frowned at the taste of sugar. “Did you find more candy? Where? And how? I swear you haven’t left my side.”

Brandon levelled the camera with a conspiratorial look. “All geniuses have their ways.”

“I’m cutting you off.” Alan reconsidered his words. “Ew, gross. You’re making me sound responsible.”

Brandon flicked his red baldric. “I feel like responsibility and IR are a joint package.”

“You’ve seen my astroboard stunts.”

“Good point.”

The parade began with an explosion of colour that reminded Alan of the infamous occasion when Gordon had accidentally upended Virgil’s palette mid-painting session. International Rescue had been assigned to the group of NGO floats, so he wasn’t expecting many people to point him out from the crowd. Maybe he’d gotten too used to his life on campus; after the initial buzz, no one cared that The Alan Tracy of International Rescue was a part of their ranks. But to his surprise, there were easily hundreds of people cheering and waving banners directed at him – or at IR or at his family: at least two signs asked for Kayo’s phone number – as the procession marched through the streets. Brandon captured everything on camera, including Alan’s shellshocked expression which prompted several internet comparisons with various memes.

“Hey, hey, Alan, look up.” Brandon cupped Alan’s face, tilting his head to glimpse the livestream of the parade on the giant screens above them. “Better smile, dude!”

“Oh my god.” Alan’s voice pitched into a humiliating squeak. He cleared his throat and fixed a grin on his face as the cameras stayed on him. “Okay, so this- this is a thing that’s happening. Cool. Cool, cool, cool.”

“Breathe,” Brandon teased. He raised their linked hands into the air, prompting another chorus of cheers from the crowd. “People love us! And they really love you, so quit freaking out.”

“I am not freaking out,” Alan protested, then proceeded to do exactly that as a weight crashed into his legs from his right. He staggered and caught his balance against Brandon’s shoulder.

“Woah,” Brandon mumbled, switching off the vlog. “Hey, lil dude. Where’d you come from?”

If the fact that Brandon had turned off the camera weren’t warning enough, his sudden change in pitch from overexcited delight to soft concern would have informed Alan that the new limpet clinging to him was definitely child shaped. He glanced down to glimpse a mop of tawny hair and an adoring, toothy smile. The kid had to be around eleven, certainly no older than twelve, with rainbow face-paint and a shirt emblazoned with Thunderbird Three.

“Hey,” Alan greeted, struck by the baffled urge to laugh. He knelt down to place himself at the kid’s level – honestly, his new height just kept causing problems. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Leo.” The kid – Leo, Alan mentally corrected himself – rocked on his heels as his grin grew impossibly wider. “Sorry for… you know. Running at you and jumping onto the float and stuff. But I really wanted to say hi, ‘cos you’re, like, super cool and you’re kind of my hero, so, um, yeah.”

Brandon leaned down over Alan’s shoulder to whisper teasingly, “Aw.”

Alan elbowed him. “Shut up.” He turned back to Leo. “That’s awesome, buddy! It’s great to meet you. Are you here with someone? I don’t want them to think you’ve gone missing.”

Leo gave an emphatic nod. “My mom.” He pointed in the vague direction of the crowd. “She’s out there somewhere.”

“Oh, boy,” Brandon whistled. “I know where this is going.”

Alan tousled Leo’s hair, then stood back up. “So, I’m thinking…”

“…We should search for the kid’s mom?” Brandon concluded with a fond eyeroll. “Yeah, okay.”

After a brief discussion with the other representatives on the float, Alan made his excuses, then clambered down with Leo perched on his shoulders and Brandon close behind them. The kid kept chattering, hands anchored in Alan’s hair and his heels drumming against Alan’s chest; it brought back treasured childhood memories of the times Alan had sat on Scott’s shoulders as his brother picked paths through crowds. He was aware of Brandon sneaking photos of their silhouettes to send to the family, all dressed up in sparkles and flags and IR blues.

Leo’s mom looked suitably ruffled. Her face was flushed with a mixture of humiliation and horror beneath the shimmery sheen of glitter spray. She fretted her hands in the hem of her t-shirt – pale blue with a supportive motherly caption that made both Alan and Brandon look away – as she began to utter so many apologies that they tripped over one another.

“I am so, so sorry.” She caught Leo’s eye with a warning stare. “He didn’t mean to disturb you. I only took my eyes off him for a second- Leo, have you apologised? Say sorry right this instant. I can’t apologise enough. Thank you so much for bringing him back. It’s just that you’re his hero, you see. He’s been obsessed with the Thunderbirds since he was only so high-” She gestured at her hip. “-and when you came out… Well, you’ve been a healthy role model for him. His hero, really, and- And I should stop rambling and let you get back to the parade. Leo, get down here.”

Alan crouched down to let Leo clamber from his shoulders. He wasn’t sure how to act in the face of such praise – the word hero was tossed around frequently by civilians but it was usually addressed towards elder brothers and on rescues, not a public setting – so settled for some terrible pun outta Gordon’s handbook and laughed nervously while Brandon rolled his eyes.

“Don’t worry about it.” Alan offered Leo a fist bump which the kid readily returned. “He’s been no trouble.” He feigned a serious tone. “I have an important question though: which is the best Thunderbird?”

“One,” Brandon declared and instinctively jumped outta reach before Alan could kick his shins.

Leo wrinkled his nose. “Three, duh.”

“Correct answer.” Alan patted him on the head. “I just had to check.” He grinned at Leo’s wide-eyed, starstruck expression. The kid kept looking at him as if he were a dragon, although perhaps a unicorn would be a better comparison given the rainbows painted onto his baldric. “Maybe don’t run off without telling your mom next time though, okay?” He lowered his voice to a secretive whisper. “I think you scared her. You might want to say sorry.”

Leo’s face fell. “Sorry, Mom. I wasn’t thinking…”

“Clearly,” she replied dryly. “But I think we can let it slide just this once.” She straightened up, craning her neck slightly to meet Alan’s gaze – and nope, he still wasn’t used to that one, it was so weird, how did Scott and John live like this? “It’s his first Pride.”

“Oh, heck yeah,” Brandon cut in. He held up a hand. “High five, lil dude! That’s awesome!”

Leo met his high five with a resounding smack. Alan observed their interaction, fully aware that he probably had the heart-eyes that he’d been accused of on so many occasions by nosy siblings, but hey, whatever, sue him, it was a cute sight. He tugged absently at the edges of his flag as warm affection spread outwards from his chest. Cameras clicked around him as people filmed – hey, it’s the guy from International Rescue – but somehow it didn’t bother him anymore.

“Really,” he continued, forcing himself to turn back to Leo’s mom. “Leo’s a good kid. You should be proud of him. I got super overexcited at my first Pride too. It can be kind of overwhelming.”

She gave a light laugh. “It’s all he’s talked about for the last three months.” She lowered her gaze, voice softening as she hesitated, then confessed, “He was scared to come out to me. I don’t know how I ever gave him that impression – Lord knows I kick myself every day for making my baby think I wouldn’t accept him – but when you came out… He said that if you could be brave enough to tell the world, he could be brave enough to tell his mama. So, thank you, Alan. Truly.”

And-

Wow.

Okay. That was… a lot.

“You’re so emotional,” Brandon teased, prodding Alan’s bicep. “This is why Goose says you have golden retriever energy, dude.” He skimmed his thumb over Alan’s palm, a swift, inconspicuous show of support. “We should probably get back to the parade, but it was awesome to meet you.”

“Of course.” Leo’s mom snagged her son’s shirt. “Say goodbye, Leo.”

“Bye,” Leo chirped, then threw his arms around Alan’s middle. “Thanks for… everything.”

Alan let Brandon lead him through the crowd to a café. They found a quiet corner at the very back, tucked away in a shadowy alcove beside a potted plant and an old Pacman machine. Brandon briefly vanished, then returned with a glass of water and a chocolate chip cookie. He slid both across the table to Alan, then waited expectantly, all wide eyes and furrowed brow.

“Thanks,” Alan replied after a minute. He took a sip of the water, then drained it in one as he realised how dry his mouth had become. “I don’t know why that threw me so much. Like, it was a really nice thing, so why am I…?” He held up a shaky hand. “…you know?”

“’Cos it’s a big deal,” Brandon said quietly. He bumped his sneaker against Alan’s beneath the table. “You’re allowed to be rattled by it, Al. It’s a good thing, but it’s still a lot. Like, I can still remember the first time one of my viewers told me I’d inspired them. I’m pretty sure I threw up afterwards, so you’re doing better than me. Then again, I was like fifteen, so…”

Alan split the cookie. “Want some?”

“It’s like you don’t even know me,” Brandon sighed, grinning as he snatched up half. “Let’s chill here for a few minutes, then we’ll head back out, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Leo was right, you know?”

“What d’you mean?”

Brandon’s smile was the soft, secretive kind, usually reserved for places without the threat of cameras. Alan had gotten to see it almost daily since they’d moved in together when he’d started at MIT, but it still left him mildly breathless.

“You’re a good role model to a bunch of kids like him.”

Alan ducked his head. “You think so?”

“I know so,” Brandon corrected. “Now eat your cookie so we can get back out there.”

Much, much later, after they’d flown back to the island and washed off most of the glitter, Alan had chance to process everything. It made him happy but also nervous at the same time. Like, woah, he was someone’s role model? Kids considered him to be their hero? That was wild. He said as much, airing his thoughts aloud while Virgil clattered around the kitchen and Scott picked at the bowl of chopped pineapple that was intended for the evening’s pizzas.

“It’s just so weird,” Alan continued, drawing his legs up to sit cross-legged on the bar stool. He’d changed into sweatpants and a hoodie that he was pretty sure he’d stolen from John at some point after his sixteenth and had subsequently grown into. There was still glitter caked onto his cheek despite the fact that he’d attacked it with a makeup wipe. “Like, me? I still feel like a kid.”

“You’re Scott’s twenty-year-old child,” Gordon joked as he sidled through the patio doors and made a beeline for the pineapple. “He’s never gonna see you as an adult. Trust me, I’d know.”

“I’m not that bad,” Scott protested half-heartedly.

Gordon patted him on the back. “Smotherhen.”

“Irresponsible guppy.”

“And I wear that title with pride.” Gordon dropped onto the stool beside Alan. “Speaking of pride, how was it? Brandon didn’t give me any of the good gossip. I need details, Allie-gator.”

Alan frowned. “Did you torture my boyfriend? Is that why I haven’t seen him all evening?”

“Nah, that’s ‘cos Penny abducted him. They’re conspiring. We should both be scared.” Gordon tossed a cube of pineapple into his mouth and shot Virgil an innocent smile when his brother heaved a grand sigh and stared pointedly at the pizza bases. “Anyway. Pride. Details. Go.”

“A little kid said Alan was his role model, so Al’s spiralling,” Kayo summarised from her perch on the opposite counter, nursing something strongly alcoholic. “Now you’re all caught up.”

“Aw.” Gordon propped his chin in his hands. “That’s kind of adorable.”

“That’s what I said,” Virgil interjected. He prodded at the bowl of cake batter in his hands, then reached for a baking tray. “Do I leave this as vanilla or add cocoa powder?”

“Add chocolate.” Alan dropped his head onto the counter with a groan. “It’s weird though. I feel… like a fraud, I guess. I don’t have my life together. I survive on pizza pockets and Red Bull.”

Scott glanced up. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Only during finals. I’m mostly a functional adult the rest of the time.”

John’s hologram blinked into life above the projector. “Before you spiral any further, you should know that the internet loves you. Footage of the parade has ended up online. You’ve not just inspired one kid, but a lot of people.”

Alan tossed his hands up. “How is that supposed to make me feel any better? That’s so much more pressure.” He slumped onto the counter. “I just… You guys were my role models, right? And you did a pretty good job-”

“Thanks,” Gordon said, just as Kayo added, “Everyone apart from Gordon did a good job.”

“-so, I’m really happy to be inspiring people but also I don’t want to mess up.”

A contemplative silence settled over the kitchen.

“You’re not going to mess up,” Scott said after a moment. He slid the pineapple out of Gordon’s reach, then moved to stand beside Alan’s seat. “Hey, look at me for a second?” He placed his hands on Alan’s shoulders and offered him a reassuring smile. “All you need to do is keep being yourself. Try your best, stand up for your beliefs, and you’ll do just fine, Allie. Besides…” He tousled Alan’s hair. “You’ve been our hero for just as long as we’ve been yours.”

“Gordon’s not included in that,” Kayo called. Gordon made a crude gesture in her direction. She flung an arm at him. “See? He’s just not role model material.”

Scott ignored them. “You’re doing great, Al. I’m proud of you.”

Alan swallowed the lump of emotion in his throat, then asked, “Can I make a Pride joke?”

Scott sank onto a bar stool beside him and dropped his head onto the counter. “Wake me up when the pizza or the cake is ready, I can’t cope with the terrible puns that are about to happen.”

“Oh, but Scotty,” Alan began.

Gordon let out a wild laugh. “This is gonna be so much fun.”

#thunderpride #thunderpride 2024 #thunderbirds are go

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