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#that she wants to go back - especially now he’s here because she’s not that kind of person
melobin · 17 hours
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behind the screen 𐙚 sungchan smau #35
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✧ camgirl reader x roommate sungchan
✧ synopsis. in which sungchan discovers his favorite camgirl also happens to be his roommate
✧ wc. 2222
✧. warnings. written and smau. smut. live streaming, handjob, edging, praise, slight crying, sub!sungchan
behind the screen masterlist
you leaned back against your headboard as you watched people join your stream, your fingers tapping anxiously against your thigh as you watched the screen. your face looked back at you, body clothed with a delicately laced bra. nervous was an understatement, this wasn’t how you’d imagined you’d reveal your identity in the past but you had no choice, now your name was out there realistically there was nothing to hide.
you smiled as sungchan sat down beside you, his hand landing on your thigh. neither of you were dressed, he lacked a shirt and you lacked everything that wasn’t your under garments. you both knew how this stream was ending but for the meantime you had to focus on the important matter that stood in front of you. somi.
“shall we begin?” you smiled sweetly at the camera, trying to calm your nerves. you felt sungchan hand curl around your own, his thumb gently rubbing over the back of it, he soothed you non verbally and you were incredibly grateful, you weren’t sure if you would’ve been able to do it without him.
“i definitely don’t look professional enough to be discussing something so important”
“you look beautiful” sungchan lifted your hand to his lips and kissed the back of it gently, he let his lips linger there for a moment before he placed it back down into your lap “i’d listen to anything you’d say whilst you’re dressed like that, like okay ma’am” his eyes dropped down to where your bra cupped your breasts tightly, you rolled your eyes, laughing a little before focusing on the stream in front of you.
“i don’t really want to go into all of it but i also don’t want to sit and allow someone to create a false image of me online. somi seems like she’s a little mad and honestly i’m not even sure what she’s that mad over, i’ve spent the last few months attempting to ignore all of her pointless jabs and unnecessary comments, but it’s harder to do that when she does it so publically. granted, my real name is y/n y/l/n and i did used to have a job under her fathers company but that’s about the only true thing she wrote in her statement. as far as i know i haven’t manipulated anyone especially sungchan”
“she’s an ungrateful bitch” you shook your head, pressing your lips together as you attempted to stop yourself from laughing at sungchan’s sudden comment.
“nothing ever happened between me and sungchan till a few weeks ago and i think that’s normal? at least to me it feels normal for friendships to change over time, especially if you see the person everyday. sungchan was the man who joined me on stream a few weeks ago too and he was the man who won the competition to meet me and that was honestly the most insane thing that had ever happened to be honest someone should have recorded my reaction to opening the door and seeing him standing there” you were rambling and sungchan found it cute, he found it even cuter that your rambling was about him.
“anyway, regarding the other person mentioned, jake, most of you know him due to his streams and before i met jake i had a lot of respect for him but once we met that all just fell down the drain. i didn’t want to have sex with jake and he seemed to not like that, the moment i told him i wasn’t interested he became harsh towards me, if anything he seemed bitter so in the end i just began to ignore him because i didn’t want to deal with someone like that” sungchan squeezed your hand again, sitting silently as he listened to you talk.
“i lost my job which i kind of expected to happen to be honest but it’s whatever, i have streaming which i really enjoy and i have sungchan who i also really enjoy so i think i won here” sungchan laughed again.
“i think i won” you turned your head to look at him, smiling brightly up at him as he grabbed your jaw with his hand, you smiled wider as he kissed you.
“i think that’s all i have to say” sungchan nodded, going to pull away before you pushed your fingers into his hair “now please fuck me”
“straight away?” he laughed, kissing you again. your hands found their way onto his chest before you pushed him away and smiled.
“you’re right, there was something i wanted to do”
“oh?” you turned back to the stream and smiled
“i want to try something new” your fingers trailed over the skin of his abs, nails lightly digging into them. you looked back at him, pressing an open mouthed kiss against his shoulder “do you wanna play with me channie?” you kissed his skin again, leaning up a little as you nipped at the skin under his ear “i promise i’ll be good to you”. the deep breath sungchan let out told you everything you needed to know, of course he’d let you do what you wanted to him. in his mind, you didn’t even have to ask.
“anything you want baby” he breathed out and you smiled, shifting your position on the bed so you were sitting on your knees next to him. the camera captured the scene perfectly, he sat with his legs out and his back against your headboard, his briefs being the only thing on his body as you knelt next to him, your undergarments clinging to your skin as you smiled sweetly to him and traced the lines of his abs with your nails.
you trailed them further down his skin, pressing the tips of your fingers under his briefs before pulling them out. sungchan watched you carefully, unsure of what you were planning to do but he let you do it, sitting back almost obediently as you touched him. his body shivered as he felt your nails rake over his nipple, gulping whilst looking down at you. the innocent smile on your face only made things harder for him.
you leaned forward and kissed at his skin, your parted lips allowing your saliva to leave a wet trail behind you as you moved along his chest. it felt hot against his skin yet he shivered again, unable to keep himself still at the feeling of you against him. sungchan gasped when he felt your tongue flick over his nipple, your hand clawing its way down his body and into his briefs one more, this time releasing his cock from their restraints and wrapping your hand around it. you pumped him slowly, gently running your thumb over his tip before bringing your hand back down to the base. sungchan’s head fell back against the headboard, his thighs tensed as your tongue flicked over his nipple again. he never would’ve pictured himself in such a vulnerable position but he loved every second of it, this side of you was so incredibly hot to him.
sungchan sighed as he felt your hand squeeze the base of his cock, you pressed one last kiss to his skin before lifting your head and looking down at his cock. he throbbed in your hand, groaning when you squeezed him again.
“your cock is so big, channie” there was a slight moan in your voice as you spoke to him, it caused sungchan to groan again “almost too big for my hand” he let out a deep, shaky breath, barely being able to listen to the crude words you were saying to him as you jerked him off. the way you spoke to him and the way you touched him overwhelmed sungchan immensely. he struggled to hold himself together as he felt his orgasm approaching far too fast.
yet, once he announced he was close, all of the feelings were stolen away from him and his senses were replaced by the sound of you laughing sweetly whilst looking up at him. he felt speechless, his mouth going dry when you placed your hand around his cock again, only this time your hand moved faster and your eyes stayed on his. his parted lips let out a sweet whine and his eyes stayed open as he looked down at you. sungchan felt as if he was a complete wreck, unable to keep himself together as you let go of his cock again. you were edging him.
“baby” he moaned out, hissing as you grabbed his cock again. your eyes trailed over the stream that was active on your laptop, his eyes shined under the light of the screen as he looked at you through it. you admired the comments, how envious they were of the boy sat next to you and how incredibly hot it was to watch you edge him the way hyou were.
“they love it, channie” he whimpered again as you squeezed his throbbing cock, it was slick with precum by now, it made it easy for you to drag your hand up and down it with ease, a wet sound echoing throughout the room with each pump of your hand.
when you looked back at him you could see the weakness in his eyes, a glossy layer covered them as he let out a shaky breath. sungchan was not prepared to have you act this way toward him, yet he had no time to process it as your hand moved on his cock again. each time you grabbed his cock it took less time for you to let go again, the constant teasing had his legs shaking and his stomach tensing. he could barely handle it, his body growing weaker with each quick pump of your hand. what drove him more insane was the little giggles you let out every time you let go of him, the fact you were so clearly enjoying it so much ruined him.
“are you going to let me cum?” sungchan’s voice was broken, it thrilled you to hear him so ruined and weak because of you, tears beginning to fill up in his eyes.
“i don’t know, do you deserve it?” sungchan nodded instantly, his lips beginning to swell due to him biting them endlessly. you hummed, smiling again before turning your head to the stream “does he deserve it? i don’t think he does” you shook your head, faking an innocent smile as you read the comments.
you leaned your head against sungchan’s shoulder, hand still wrapped tightly around his cock “seems like they feel bad for you channie” you turned your head, kissing his shoulder before looking up at him “it’s your lucky day” your hand sped up on his cock again, you watched him as a single tear slipped out his eye and fell down his flushed cheek. cooing at him, you smiled and kissed it away, not stopping your hand that was driving him over the edge of insanity.
“i can’t” he cursed after speaking, his head falling back against the headboard once against as he bucked his hips up into your hand, barely hanging on as you brought him closer. there was a fire burning inside of sungchan’s stomach, his skin burned as his orgasm threatened to break him.
“you can do it baby, i know you can” you kissed his skin again, bringing your other hand up to lace through the messy strands of his hair, soothing him as he let his orgasm take over. sungchan wasn’t sure how long you were edging him for but with the intensity of his orgasm, it felt like forever. his body grew slack, his abs tensing as his cum splurted all over them.
“you done so well for me channie” you praised him, your fingers still soothing him as you helped him through his orgasm, only stopping your hand once you knew he had nothing left in him. you giggled again at hi fucked out state, in awe of how pretty he looked on the verge of crying.
sungchan didn’t expect you to your end your stream after that, you hid your goodbyes, promising to go live again that week as an extra treat for your views. once it was off and your laptop had closed you settled next to him with a cloth, gently wiping the cum off of his body whilst kissing his skin. sungchan, in his own mind, was not submissive, but if you were going to take care of him like this every time he was then he was sure he was going to change his mind.
“how are you feeling?” he looked down at you, smiling in a daze at your question.
“incredible, you?” you giggled at his sleepy words, cuddling into his side and looking at his face.
“i feel great channie” he smiled before stopping, his fingers gently touching your cheek. there was a comfortable silence between the two of you but it also felt as if there were unspoken words floating in the air. you stayed like that for a while, just watching each other as the moonlight washed over your skin from your window, it was only when you broke your silence that sungchan let out what he wanted to say.
“are you oka-?”
“i love you”.
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behind the screen tag list
tag list. @midmourn @svnghan @strayhowls @minnieslover @shortnstupid @palchokitty @ilovechanhee e @hikict @wccycc @revehosh @teddywook @hoonieq @glaieuls @kvstjwonnie @starrypen @thinkabt-vivi @kyusqult @nanascupid @professsionalsimp @beomgri @xenkimmie @dinosluver @jaehmarks @hellonikitty @wolfiecaro @snoopyana @rosesfortaro @zhangyixingxing1 @hrts4tyun @forrds @mamathefifth @wonbinkisser @alwayswook @boogyu @haohoonz @wheatrice e @cvpidxo @soobsfairy444 @nadrs @wonbinfiles @tsumusakusa @chichiuu @bbgmingyu @outrologist @lilriswife4life @https-yeonjun @emoseob @riizenextdoor @h3lluh @shiannprincess101 @ioveslgn @iselltulips @w0nslvr r @vernonburger r @boopdidoo @planethyuka @joshuawifey @dearmyouth @bludzk1llzyuzu @andb1ue @reenfluffmarshmallow @jnkthy @luh @au-ghosttype e
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AITA for getting upset at my ex for being PDA with his boyfriend?
🌱🚌🍰<- To find later
Ages aren't super relevant here but everyone is in their mid-late 20s. About a year ago, my fiance of about 8 and a half years, Jake, broke up with me. It wasn't the smoothest breakup, I didn't take it well at the time, but I've since had a lot of time to think about it and I do understand (and agree with some of) his reasons for it. We're still on friendly terms and recently started casually chatting again 2 months ago after he said he needed a break for a while. I admit I do still love him and we had said at the time that we would want to get back together someday but that it would be a long time before we could consider that again and I wouldn't be upset with him if he changes his mind. There are a number of reasons why things weren't going well, I know I have a lot of body image issues and that had a lot of impact on our sex life, and there was also just a lot of baggage from old issues that built up over the course of the relationship. I've since been in therapy which I know was long overdue and working on a lot of the issues that contributed. Ultimately though, what ended up being the breaking point was issues we were having with polyamory.
I'm going to try and keep things as succinct as possible because the including all the details would make it way too long, but here's basically what happened: Jake and I agreed to be open about sleeping with other people, as long as we kept things out of our shared space. We weren't sure about dating others yet, but we said we'd talk about it if it came up. I know Jake felt jealous about me being with others while I worked on our own intimacy issues, but he told me that he knew that was unhealthy especially if we wanted to eventually be poly. A few months in, I heard from one of our friends, Emily, that a new friend of ours, Daniel, thought Jake was hot and might have a crush on him. I was shocked that Emily would tell me that because she knew Jake and I were together, and I told Jake to discuss what to do about it. He was kind of upset that I told him because he said he would've wanted to hear that from Daniel directly, I argued it was relevant but apologized anyway and dropped it. Over the next few months, Jake and Daniel started texting a lot and Jake started developing feelings for him. When Daniel confessed during a movie night, Jake said he felt the same but that he'd have to talk to me about it first. Jake told me he wanted to go for it, which was surprising because he had said literally the day before that he wasn't sure, but we decided to try poly with some ground rules. Ultimately the issue came down to the "shared space" rule we were already following. I considered making out as sexual, but Jake disagreed and told me that was too controlling if we were allowed to have dates at the apartment. This led to a fight, and when I went to the other room to calm down, I realized that if I couldn't handle seeing Jake with someone else so close to me, I couldn't do poly, so I went back out to tell him. He asked why we couldn't keep talking about it, I said I couldn't change how I felt, and he got upset that I wasn't willing to have a conversation about it now that he had feelings for someone else, so I asked him what he'd want to talk about and he said not to bother because it was obvious I had already made up my mind. The next day he told me we should take a break, and we broke up a week later. I want to make it very clear that I don't blame Daniel for any of this and I don't think anyone was "cheating". As far as I'm aware, Jake and Daniel started dating about 4-5 months after we broke up. I'm not going to lie and say that seeing Jake so happy with someone else doesn't hurt, but I know that's immature of me and I'm working on getting over it.
About a week ago, Jake invited me to go to a bar with a bunch of our old friends. It was a lot of fun and I had really missed hanging with everyone in a group. At some point during the night though, I noticed Daniel being kind of handsy with Jake. I brushed it off because everyone was drunk, but as time went on it became less and less subtle, and I started getting a little uncomfortable. I noticed that one of our more reserved friends, Jason, was also looking a bit flustered. At one point Daniel pulled Jake away from the table to go off somewhere, and everyone just kind of laughed awkwardly before continuing conversation. I know that Jake didn't like PDA before but it's possible that changed, idk.
At the end of the night when people were saying goodbyes and starting to head home, I pulled Jake aside to thank him for inviting me and saying it was a lot of fun and great to see everyone again, but that I noticed people were kind of uncomfortable with Daniel's PDA and suggested that he tone it down a little in the future, especially around Jason. Jake didn't say anything at the time but his smile dropped a little bit and he said he'd talk to Daniel about it.
The next day, I woke up to messages from both Jake and Jason telling me I was out of line and that nobody but me had any issues with their PDA. I even mentioned Jason looking uncomfortable and he said that it was because he had had a crush on Jake for a while now, but that it would be unreasonable for him to ask Jake and Daniel to change their behavior around their friends (which I completely disagree with when it comes to PDA and being inappropriate in public). Jake told me that if I was going to bring our breakup back into the group dynamic it would be better if I didn't come in the future. I asked a few of our other friends and one said that it could be too much sometimes but only when everyone was really drunk, one said that if it did go too far they'd say something, but that it never had, and the last one told me that I was being rude and was clearly just not over Jake.
I don't think I'm an asshole for being uncomfortable with PDA and even if nobody else agrees with me (and at least a couple do), I didn't go about telling them in a rude way at all, but most of the group is saying I was overstepping and to get over myself. AITA here?
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brf-rumortrackinganon · 19 hours
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Look, neither Meghan nor Harry are details people. So chances are extraordinarily high that they never bothered to actually read the papers or understand the laws about how the titles, succession, transition, and accession actually worked.
RTA, I'm not sure I'm buying this one: primogeniture (aka the firstborn son gets everything) has been *the law* for the English aristocracy for centuries; as dumb as Harry is, this must have been a central fact of life for all in his circle, no way he wasn't aware. He just expected that an exception would have been made for his own self, because Mummy.
That's why Andy had to "Pitch at the Palace", and Charles had the Duchy.
And there are about a million Harlequin Regency romances - not to mention Austen, Thackeray, and the like - where the rakish second son of a Duke, or what have you, has to find his fortune in the army, because again the firstborn gets everything. The spare gets the army. The third son gets the Church. It is known.
They wanted to be the exception to the law of land: I suspect this is what they meant with "modernizing the Monarchy".
I see what you’re saying but just because we know and most of the family knows it and it’s the subject of countless historical fiction/regency romance novels doesn’t mean that everyone knows it. It doesn’t mean that everyone gets it.
Does Harry get it? Does he know this? I’d say yes. Yes, he did. Because by all accounts, that’s the trajectory he was set up for. But obviously something happened because in 2015, he left the army instead of remaining in and going for a full career. Allegedly, he left the army because he wanted a promotion without doing the work and qualifying for it and Granny wouldn’t bend the rules and just give it to him and everything suggests that he couldn’t understand why she refused to help him in this regard. However, Harry still planned to remain associated with the military, only by aligning with veterans’ groups and Invictus Games instead of actually serving. So I think he gets it.
Where it all went belly up is Meghan. She didn’t get it. She doesn’t know this. She’s an American so how could she know the intricate details of heir, second son, third son, etc? She’s definitely not reading any regency romance novels. She’s definitely not doing that kind of homework - she’s only reading as far back as Diana’s biography and which French couture fashion houses she wants to be dressed in.
She probably is the one that had these ideas in the first place. Which goes back to my original point - she didn’t have a good grasp of hereditary succession and thought she could change it through PR, popularity, and media. And I suspect that once Harry was on board with the idea, his understanding of “this is how it works” disappeared. We all know Harry is dim anyway - and Diana even confirmed it herself about him - so it probably doesn’t take much to get him to change his mind, especially if it’s not something he fully understood in the first place.
So all this woulda coulda shoulda, it appears the inflection point in this timeline is Harry’s decision to leave the army in 2015. Had he stayed in and did a full 20+ like his godfather Uncle Andrew did, there’s no telling what kind of royal family we’d be watching now. I don’t think Meghan would be here if he stayed in.
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timdrakesbussy · 19 hours
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The First Kill and Final Girl Poll Results
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My opinions and also my thoughts are below.
Haley won the first kill poll in a landslide. It makes sense, in a way. She’s the hot blonde chick, she's destined to die early. However, since she's also very high on the final girl poll, she has high preservation and she put up a decent fight without actually fighting (think of Tatum Riley from Scream).
Alex is a jock. He won’t make it far.
All I wanted to ask is WHO VOTED ELLIOTT IN THE FINAL GIRL POLL??? WHY IS HE HIGHER THAN SAM, ALEX, AND EMILY?? What the FUCK would he do? I love him and all but he would absolutely die early on. He’s always alone in his cabin and nobody visits him except for Leah and maybe Willy so he’s an easy target.
Emily absolutely knows what’s going on and who did it with her witchy crystals and prophetic dreams. She would warn others about it, especially since she knew her sister isn’t missing but instead killed, though nobody believed her. But since she knew what the hell is happening from the beginning, she needs to die.
Shane is pretty difficult to think about tbh. From the poll, he's pretty average on both and I struggle to think how he could die. But I definitely think he would die, just not that early, and he actually puts up a good fight.
Harvey's results are average as well but he is slightly higher than Shane's. He is pretty useful, as the only one of two medical professional AND the only doctor, he needs to die possibly halfway through the movie.
Sebastian has less than a percent of vote in the first kill poll but surprisingly average on the final girl poll. I get it, I think he absolutely would die but not early. In my head, he and Sam (who has a small vote for final girl and pretty high on the first kill, dear Lord you guys are adamant for this man to get killed) would die together, Fear Street 2 double kill kind of way. Pretty scenic and beautiful.
Penny is divisive. People agree that she either would be the first easy kill or she’s the final girl. I do think she’d die, but on the later parts of the movie. She’s smart so she could outwit them but she doesn’t have the body skill to easily outrun her pursuer. I’d say she'd die à la Casey Becker from Scream, where she gets killed whilst trying to run away from them.
Now, here comes the fun part.
First we have Maru. With her stat, it makes sense she made it far. She’s a genius and definitely far more durable than Penny, I’d still think she’d rather use her brain than her muscles though. But she’s very useful, she’s one of the only medical professional and with Harvey dead, she’s the only one left. So, I think she would die near the end of the movie.
Second, Leah. Definitely a final girl material. Plus point other than her muscles is that she’s familiar with the wilderness, she knows her way if she needs to run to the forest to hide. And I think she’s the equilibrium to brain and brawn. But she’s not the winner of the poll so she had to die, though she won’t go down without a fight.
Lastly, we have our final girl.
Okay, raise your hands if you’re surprised because this is very predictable.
Abigail is a final girl material TO THE T. She’s vulnerable yet strong and skilled of a combatan enough to fight back the pursuer. And you know what’s lacking with Leah and Maru? They would hesitate to do stupid things that protagonists do, and Abigail would make stupid decisions that’d endanger her or her friends (the latter possibly causing their deaths).
Anyways, uh.. I can’t draw for shit so here’s a picrew of bloody Abigail with a badge I hastily made in canva. Congrats girl! Now hopefully you’ll get therapy, Lord knows you need them after losing everyone you love.
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BONUS: the final scene in my head is Abigail sitting in her battered kitchen with a cup of hot green tea. She didn’t drink the tea, not even a sip. She instead stared into her reflection as the camera pans out for the viewer to peek Caroline’s mangled body adjacent to the stove, blood splattered on the powder blue walls then it cuts to black.
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lollipencil · 1 day
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Q&A and Comfort
A little piece based on Prompt 5, so read that first for context.
For additional context, this would be post-series and post-Jake reveal (and post-Marc and Steven reveal for Jake). Steven would find this little book in Marc's old hidey-hole and, upon seeing that there is only questions inside, he and Marc choose to answer them as best they can.
Jake is standard text, Steven is italics, and Marc is Bold
Enjoy and be gentle
---
Why did I used to wake up shackled to the bed? Sorry, thought I was sleep-walking.
Is it normal to not remember why I'm standing outside in the rain? That would likely be because of us.
Where have my car keys gone? They're somewhere safe, you can have them back once you talk to us.
Have they disposed of my car? No, it's still in the garage where you left it.
Why are they here? It's not exactly by choice, mate.
Who are they? I'm Steven! Marc
Who was that woman who hurt me when I was young? mom Our egg donor.
When was I born? The body was born the ninth of March 1987. Individually, we were kind of hoping you'd know.
How was I born? We'd be better off talking more directly about this.
Why did I wake up in a warzone once? That was you?
Why do I keep waking up to people trying to kill me?
Are they going to try to kill me too?
Does touch always hurt? No.
Why can I never make friends?
Why can't I remember being a teenager?
Who was that woman I sometimes wake up to? Layla.
Is she going to hurt me? No, she will never hurt you.
How come I know how to drive? No clue. Actually, how did I know to drive that one time?
What does a burger taste like? Like the best damn thing in the world, especially with cheese.
What do enchiladas taste like? Pretty good, so long as you get them from the right place.
What does chocolate taste like? Like a hug. Depends on the type of chocolate.
Are they going to trap me inside, now that they've found me?
Was that what that darkness was?
Why can't I have a life? Only snatches of time?
Is the world not big enough for me to live? It is big enough, buddy, it is. We just didn't know you were here. But if you'd like, we can help make space for you.
The next time you're awake, please don't hide from us. I know that you're probably feeling a bit scared, but we just want to help. Will you let us? ok.
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maccreadysbaby · 3 days
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Project: Killcode
batfamily + oc insert
tw: anxiety attacks
wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!
want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!
…and bentley is already not having a good time, bless him
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part two
❝ MAFIA FAMILY ❞
SATURDAY — JULY 14 — 8:48PM
GIRLS WERE SO WEIRD.
Especially these ones. Weirder than Steph, who was already pretty weird.
Bentley, Layla, and Vera had taken up residence in a little lavish sitting area in one of the ballroom’s corners — the two girls sharing a loveseat, and Bentley sitting nicely in his own velvet chair. He had said next to nothing, simply watching, listening, occasionally texting Asten but making sure not to stare at his phone for too long. (Asten seemed quite enamored with how quickly Bentley managed to find himself in the presence of females. Bentley wasn’t sure why.) Now, said females seemed to be playing a game where they narrated random people’s lives just by looking at them, but… ridiculously.
Bruce was still talking to the rude couple. Bentley wasn’t exactly sure why, but he was. And it seemed like intriguing conversation. They were all moving their hands, and changing their expressions, but it didn’t seem like they were arguing. (He still wanted to know what they were talking about.)
Dick had disappeared again. Bentley had only seen flashes of Timothy Drake here and there, talking and chatting and doing things. Damian hadn’t appeared yet, nor had anyone else. Only Asten and Jason had the real opportunity to skip, yet Bentley hadn’t seen a single Wayne besides Bruce, Dick, and flashes of Tim for the past… how long had he been in here? Twenty minutes?
“That guy’s dad is an Italian baker,” Vera said, pointing at a dark-haired guy that was passing with a plate piled full of whatever little fancy foods Alfred had made for the occasion. “He has to get a flavor profile of every food here so his dad can add it to his Wayne Gala inventory. They’ve been stalking the Wayne family cook for years trying to get recipes out of them, but there’s just something they have that no one else does.”
Bentley snickered at that one. She wasn’t wrong, actually, Alfred was one of a kind. Bentley wasn’t so sure about the food, though. It all looked kinda… strange. He liked… y’know. Spaghetti? Normal things? He was pretty sure Tim had said one of the things Alfred always put on the table was fish eggs. (And he did not want tiny baby fish swimming around in him.)
“Okay, okay,” Layla chuckled, brushing her blonde hair behind her ear and pointing through the crowd. “That one.”
She was pointing at Steph, who Bentley hadn’t seen once until then. She was wearing a lovely long, purple, sparkly dress, and her hair was ironed into fancy curls. She was talking to a guy in a suit that looked at least double her age.
(Why were galas just the perfect place to hang out with the opposite sex? Because, frankly, Bentley didn’t want to go over there, either. Interrupting would be way too awkward.)
“She’s a runaway model from France who just wants to see the world, not be enslaved to the runway! She snuck in to feel the American dream coursing through her veins,” Layla said dramatically, shrugging, tugging at the bottom of her white dress. “And she has amazing hair.”
Okay, Bentley really did chuckle that time. Steph was many things, but a runaway model wasn’t one of them. He was sure, though, that she would get a kick out of hearing that.
“You try one, then, pretty boy,” Vera piped up.
Bentley glanced over at her, blinking momentarily. She stared back at him with her borderline lifeless brown eyes. “What?”
“You try one, if you’re going to sit here and judge us for it,” She replied, flicking her hand out toward the crowd. “Go on, pick anyone.”
Bentley, with a huff, looked back out toward the crowd. There were people everywhere, moving and walking and talking. 
And then he saw Damian. 
Maybe he really hadn’t been here before, because Bentley was sure he would’ve seen him — he was dressed in solid black dress pants and a blazer, with a blood-red button up underneath it. He was fifteen, now (Bentley wasn’t very fond of the little gap between birthdays where Damian was two years older instead of one.) and it was showing. He was starting to look less like a kid and more like a man. Like… at least guy or dude status. And Bentley, at thirteen, still looked pretty much like a kid. Which wasn’t at all embarrassing. (At least he didn’t go to public school anymore to put it on display, he guessed.)
Bentley pointed over at Damian. All he had to do was make something up, right? What was the most interesting thing Asten had talked to him about lately?
I’m telling you, dude, the mafia is real and they’re everywhere.
Bentley settled for that. “He’s in the mafia.”
That seemed to work well enough. Layla made a loud pfft noise, and Vera rolled her eyes, muttering: unoriginal. 
”Isn’t that your brother?” Layla muttered, peering through the crowd to catch Damian as he moved.
“C’mon, you can do better than that. Everybody on the internet thinks the Wayne’s are a mafia family,” Vera teased, her eyes flicking as she watched people walk by. “Give us something cool.”
Bentley scoffed. “Okay, what would you say, then?”
Vera peered back across the room, seemingly at Damian. “He’s Robin.”
Bentley choked.
“Nah, Robin is way cuter than him,” Layla spoke up, watching Damian move across the room. Her eyes flicked to Bentley. “Why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”
Something shattered. 
Bentley jumped a mile and a half when the crash of a champagne glass sounded from right next to him. He whipped around quickly, and there was an older woman with shaky hands there, near his chair, looking awfully embarrassed.
Bentley looked at the broken glass. Broken, shattered, with little diamond designs scattered about the broken pieces. There was champagne pooling on the tile.
Glass with diamonds and alcohol on the floor. 
He saw his father.
No — he didn’t live there anymore. He turned back forward in the velvety chair and-
Didn’t he used to sit on chairs like these during his fathers meetings? In fact, his father’s house had been full of them. Tons of them. Fancy chairs just like these.
No. Stop. Bentley looked up at the girls in front of him, who were looking pitifully at the old woman, at the glass. Distract me, he begged, but no words came out of his mouth. He couldn’t just… he was… he was gala-ing! He had to be perfect!
His dress clothes started to feel a little less like new ones he got with Steph and a little more like the same ones his father forced him into.
No, he should be over this. He should be over it. His father was in prison, he lived in a good home, he was okay-
In a panic, the woman, trying to clean up the glass, cut her hand on it.
There was alcohol and bloody glass on the floor.
Bentley forced himself to sit upright, but- no, it didn’t work. He forced air in and out but that didn’t work, either. He tried to tell his body to stop it and shut up and get it together but it didn’t want to.
He’d watched Dick drop a plate in the kitchen not three weeks ago and he was fine. He’d seen blood and bruises after patrol and he was fine. He’d sparred with Damian and Dick and Jason and Tim and Bruce, and even with their hands flying at him, he was fine.
More likely to happen if you’re already nervous, the logical little Tim Drake that lived in Bentley’s head said.
There were people everywhere, people who looked rich, and they were talking and talking and talking about business and business and business and Bentley wasn’t having fun anymore.
Stop. He grabbed onto the wooden arms of the chair he was sitting in and squeezed them, hard. There were two girls sitting in front of him. Two girls that were probably weirded out and confused. 
He could hear his blood moving, and- crap. No. Not right now. 
You know we’ve all pretty much ended a gala before, right?
Bentley closed his eyes and focused on Dick’s voice. Remembering what they talked about. 
I broke a chandelier. Cracked a man’s ribs.
Crack! Went his father’s shoe against Bentley’s abdomen, and he was in the warehouse, being poisoned, and Dick was in front of him.
“Bentley?”
Crack! Now he was in a different warehouse, and Jason was dying.
But Jason was alive-!
Crack! Went his father’s glass against the wall. There was the smell of alcohol. The smell of blood.
Bentley was only coherent enough to fold over on himself in the chair, lacing his hands in his hair and resting his elbows on his knees. He could not. He could not have an attack right now. If he did, then he wouldn’t be able to control his powers, then all the water and liquid and blood in the room would move, then he could break stuff, then he could hurt someone, then he could kill people.
“Bentley, can you hear me? Your mind is a wreck!”
He couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe.
His dad was going to kill him.
His dad was going to kill him.
His dad was going to kill him.
His dad was going to kill him.
His dad was going to kill him.
His dad was going to kill him.
His dad was going to kill him.
His dad was going to kill him.
His dad was going to kill him.
His dad was going to kill him.
His dad was going to kill him.
His dad was going to kill him.
Someone touched his shoulder.
And it freaking sent him.
“-mon, Bentley. Hey. Hey, you with me, bud?”
He couldn’t breathe.
He was sitting somewhere very not the ballroom. It wasn’t loud enough. Or maybe it was. All he could hear was his blood — water? — he couldn’t hear anything else. It was too loud.
Someone was holding onto his wrists. Gently, keeping his hands away from his face. “Hey. Can you look at me?”
Bentley couldn’t really focus on anything besides his father. But he wasn’t with his father, right? He was with… everyone else. He was in the Manor.
“You’re in the Manor, chum. You’re not there anymore,”
Yeah, he was in the Manor. He was. He was. 
He was staring down at his own pants. He could hear his stupid wheezy breaths, but he couldn’t make them stop. He realized the reason someone was holding his wrists was because he was shaking near-violently.
His father was going to kill him.
“Bentley. Bud, look at me,”
His father was going to kill him.
“I’m right here, chum. I’ve got you,”
Someone’s hand raked through his hair, and he finally managed to bring his eyes up, locking on the icy gray ones that belonged to Bruce Wayne.
He smiled sympathetically. “There you are.”
Bruce Wayne. Sitting with Bentley in — where were they? It looked like a guest room on the other side of the Manor. Not in the ballroom. Bruce Wayne, crouched in front of Bentley, not in the ballroom. Bruce Wayne, not at his own gala.
In a mental whiplash, Bentley’s cluelessness was very suddenly changed to hyper-awareness. He could feel the water moving in the pipes, the realized that Bruce wasn’t at his own gala, that he’d probably had to have been carried out because he didn’t remember walking to the bedroom, that he couldn’t breathe, that this was happening again after seven full months without an attack, that there were a few more people in the room and they were all staring at him, that he could’ve hurt someone-
“Stay with me, pal,”
Bentley wheezed in and out a few pitifully fast breaths and curled his hands into fists, hoping that something would be in them, but nothing was.
Why was this happening again?
“He’s grabbing for something, B,” Came a voice Bentley knew. A voice Bentley knew he knew so well that he just couldn’t place it.
But the voice was helpful — Bruce moved Bentley’s hands so he was tugging at the bedsheets underneath him.
“I-I’m sorry,” Bentley choked on his own breathing. (At least he wasn’t crying, though, that would be even more embarrassing during a gala.) He squeezed the bedsheets and stared down at his pants, willing his lungs to work, for his body to stop shaking. “Go back.”
“Bentley-“
“Go back,” He repeated, moving his heavy irises up, back to Bruce’s face. “To the ballroom. I’m… okay.”
“Bud-“
Bentley shook his head. “Please.”
“The galas over, chum. Everyone went home,”
Bentley froze as much as a kid having an anxiety attack could freeze.
No. He didn’t.
“It’s alright, bud, just breathe. It’s going to be okay,” 
The bed dipped beside Bentley, but Bruce was still in front of him, and someone started rubbing up and down and up and down his back. 
He shook his head in an attempt to shove the water out of it, but it was really loud.
No, not water. Champagne.
Champagne screaming on the tile. Tons of it. In the ballroom, covering the floor, getting mopped up right now.
Champagne and blood on the floor.
No he didn’t.
“I didn’t mean to,” He whispered, nearly inaudibly. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean to-“
“It’s alright, Bentley. It’s okay, just look at me. Just breathe. We don’t have to talk about it right now,”
“What did I do?” He muttered, bringing his heavy eyes up to meet Bruce’s again.
Bruce looked at the person beside Bentley, as if they would help him decide whether to tell him or not. That’s about when Bentley realized that that person was Dick, and that Asten was lingering near the door.
Bruce looked back at him, his smile wiped from his features. “Bentley-“
“Dad,” Bentley started, squeezing the bedsheets again. “What did I do?”
Bruce breathed in. Shared another look with Dick.
“You shattered all the champagne glasses,”
Bruce didn’t elaborate, but Bentley got it anyway.
He shattered all the glasses.
In everybody’s hands.
Bentley exhaled heavily, squeezing the sheets so hard his palms would be bleeding if the blankets weren’t in the way. His eyes flicked down to Bruce’s right hand.
It was haphazardly bandaged, and there was blood seeping through.
Bentley opened his mouth, but Bruce cut him off with an immediate: “Don’t apologize. It’s okay.”
Bentley blinked, forcing a little burn that was surfacing behind his eyes away. “How long? Was the attack?”
“About an hour and fifteen minutes,”
Bentley exhaled sharply. He’d never had one that long before. 
Maybe that’s why he felt like crap.
“I didn’t mean to,” He mumbled, releasing the bedsheets and bringing his arms up and around himself. “Someone broke a glass.”
“I know,” Bruce said sympathetically, running a hand over Bentley’s head. 
Well, at least he was breathing better now, somehow. The shaking had gone down a little, too.
He felt like he’d been hit with a truck. His head was all fuzzy and felt like it was full of stuffing, and it seemed to be taking three times the brain power to will up any thoughts or statements.
Instead, Bentley just leaned his head over on Dick’s shoulder, who hummed sympathetically.
“On a brighter note,” Asten said, moving forward from the door. He was way taller than Bentley now, standing at sixteen years old, and his blue hair was a darker blue than it used to be. (Jason had taken up dying it for him, and he was shockingly good at it.) He was wearing pajama pants and a hoodie. “Those girls left their numbers with Damian. For you.”
Asten held up two little torn strips of… was that a napkin? That had writing on each of them.
Bentley breathed in and out.
He guessed ruining your first gala was just one of the dozens of ways to become a Wayne. 
(He wondered if getting phone numbers off of random girls by having an anxiety attack and hurting people was another one.)
dedicated to @sassenashsworld ❤️
tag list! (If you want me to remove or add you, ask in comments!)
@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @flyrobinflyy @skylathescholar @gayboss-too-close-to-the-sun @xiaonothere @beatyoutothatusernameloser
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undercoverpena · 14 days
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tell me why I can’t stop thinking of post colombia!javi being in love with his childhood best friend—and why I’m reopening a wip oneshot of him going to her city to surprise her. only to fall more in love with her. tell me why. tell me.
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dbphantom · 3 days
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you know if you guys voted for stretch armstrong i probably would have shut up a lot sooner tonight
#so really this is all your fault /lh /j#i love thinking about h2o tho so im happy#VERY FUCKING TIRED THO WISH I COULD SLEEP#i think my brain is kicking into overdrive after being filled with cotton the past 3 days which. hey im glad ur back bud#CAN YOU SHUT UP NOW I NEED REST#i was just thinking because im probably not posting that essay i will summarize here (i saw#that privating it made it lose like 4 recently edited paragraphs and i don't want to type all that out again my memory isn't good enough)#it just boiled down to the pods basically making a self fulfilling prophecy by orphaning their sons and making them increasingly#desperate for connections to other people like them which is why i think erik behaves the way he does esp when ondina is around#like i am not excusing his actions in the slightest dont get me wrong here he really fucked up BUT#his last conversation with ondina before he goes to the chamber kind of sold that idea to me#how he scoffs at her saying rita says it's dangerous because she's 'old school' and of COURSE old school mermaids think all mermen are evil#and then starts adding on how he wants to do this for HER and get her home back for her by controlling it#like a bit of an add-on at the end to try and convince her#i think what he really wants is to be hailed as a hero. you know. validation and acceptance from the ppl who originally abandoned him#the OGs who made him feel like an outsider. the ppl who ripped everything away from him just bc of the way he was born (which is prob why#when he's trying to convince zac to help him he keeps bringing up their ancestors bc that's what unifies them)#i don't think he's an evil dude per se i think he thought stealing the trident stone from rita's grotto would be small peanuts in the past#once he finally got the pod to come home bc he genuinely (mistakenly) believed he COULD control the power of the chamber#i also think that's why the camera keeps focusing on his face when he's watching the others panic over#zac's sacrifice and i think he is feeling jealousy bc they are paying attention to him and not Erik#like that's not the face of someone who deeply regrets what they just did. my guy is just sitting there like 'that should be me rn'#i think that is why he also sounds so desperate to make things right with ondina afterwards. iirc he's just like 'wait no we can start ove#RIGHT?' and she's like 'uhhhh... no??????' (valid). my dude is lonely as fuck and he finally found a group of ppl like him and he messed up#big time just trying to get their attention and affection bc he couldn't just be normal abt it he had to go big or go home#like i kind of feel bad for him in a way#but i feel bad for everyone#i felt bad for denman the other day! that's how bad this is getting!!#i mean come on imagine making the scientific discovery of a LIFETIME only for all that shit to happen in a row#especially after you get your comeback. they just go right back to fucking you over again
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merletka · 21 days
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Collaborated with amazing writer @alexcors and illustrated her fanfic about Damian Wayne. You can read it bellow! 💚
〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️
– Concussion, multiple beatings, fracture of the collarbone, two ribs and the radius of the right arm, with multiple fragments. Do you have anything to say to that, Robin?
– This dealer raised his hand himself, covering his worthless face. What?
– You beat the suspect to a pulp! Batman barked at his son. – No patrols until Cantelli is transferred from the intensive care unit to the general ward.
– But…
– That's all.
Damian clenched his teeth, but at the last moment decided not to fight with his father over a small dealer. Cantelli wasn't worth it. And therefore, having drowned himself, the boy just fell asleep.
***
The morning began with the usual five o'clock wake-up, a workout with pruning the squalid park art that Damian disapproved of in his garden. And he was already tired of explaining to Pennyworth that the enemy could be hiding behind large figures! Then a walk with Titus on a leash, Alfred the cat on his shoulder (because the mustachioed one did not want to wake up in any way) and a red-haired squeaking lump in his hands.
The kitten was dragged by a Red Hood a couple of days ago, startling Damian at first by pronouncing his full name without hesitation (few people in the family could pronounce Hafid ibn Ksufash Dami al Ghul even from the third time), and then by an attack of compassion for the animal. However, the boy quickly recovered from the shock, named the red kitten Roy Harper and now did not miss the opportunity to tease brother with the phrase "You gave me your accomplice, Todd."
By eight in the morning, Damian had time to check on the bat cow, comb Goliath, lose the nimble red Harper and find him sleeping peacefully in the cowshed. In general, Batman's heir successfully redid all his affairs, even phoned each Teen Titan individually and gave valuable instructions. On little things like different time zones, young Wayne habitually waved his hand, and everyone also grabbed a moral slap on the back of the head for trying to be indignant:
– Do it, Beast!
– Buzz me here again, Bug!
– The aliens were not given a word.
– Witch!
Damian belatedly realized that arguing with Raven was not worth it, because the importance of portals to any part of the world is difficult to overestimate. Fortunately, he knew about the weakness of every member of his team, and in Raven's case, it was sweets. Especially his sweets, with honey and spicy notes, which the girl fell in love with from the first bite. He will have to share again… She's definitely a witch!
At nine o'clock sharp, Pennyworth served breakfast, with tea in fine china, brown sugar, a slice of lemon and... an envelope?
- You have received an invitation, Master Damian.
- It's not interesting, - the boy muttered, finished with the meal and dryly told him not to disturb him. He was going to decide the fate of the world here, and they came with some kind of invitations!
However, the plan to destroy all (crossed out) almost all people did not come to mind, but the world itself lay perfectly on paper with watercolor paints, fortunately the view from the window was conducive to this. Up to a certain point.
– Todd!
- Hello to you too, Gremlin, - the Red Hood replied, climbing into his brother's bedroom through the window, while unsuccessfully clinging to the tulle with the toe of his boot.
- Pennyworth will bury you for this.
– Yes, yes, and will plant roses from above. Not that I mind much, but that's not the point right now. Get ready to go out.
Damian took a deep breath and unleashed his entire supply of Arabic obscenities on his brother, knowing full well that Jason would understand him. Unfortunately, the pressure of the negativity did not take him back out the window, he had to take up a katana.
– Put the skewer down, shorty, the meat has just been sent to marinate.
– Will you leave on your own or will you be thrown out in parts?!
– Shut up and listen to me, - Todd barked, casually showing off his pistols with the safety off. – In short, Alfie organizes a family get-together, with meat and without a fight. Dad promised to be, I'll bring a replacement, the Gotham crime storm in a thong will come running himself. You got the simplest thing – to lift your little ass off the chair and walk to the place. You can take the menagerie with you.
- I'm not going to any gatherings with my father," Damian muttered, but he put away his saber. – So you can get out and report your failed mission. I'm not leaving my room today, basically!
- No questions,– Jason agreed surprisingly easily. - But if you walk out the door, you're going to hang out with everyone, okay?
– Tt.
–That's settled,– Jason grinned, ducked out the window and disappeared.
Damian managed to exhale with relief, when suddenly something buzzing flew over the windowsill. Titus reacted first, barking loudly at the wasp's nest rolling on the floor!
- You're dead, Todd! - Damian yelled, unceremoniously grabbing the cat and rushing out the door with him and the dog.
***
- No corpses,– Grayson repeated calmly but firmly (for the fifth time!).
- I'll beat him up so that no Lazarus Pit will help, - the boy grumbled into the phone, the call to which stopped him from righteous revenge.
– Alfred said it clearly, without a fight. Let's get together with the whole family, have a nice time, have a delicious meal.
– Tt.
– We have chosen a picturesque place by the lake, you will like it.
–Okay, - the Batman heir finally gave up. – But only because painting was part of my plans today.
– It's wonderful, – judging by the sound, Dick broke into his trademark smile. – You will draw a beautiful landscape.
– I'll paint it! Artists paint with paints, you idiot.
– And I love you, little brother.
– Tt.
Author: @alexcors
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a11eya · 24 days
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TITLE: do you still think about me?
PAIRING: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader
SUMMARY: Okay, so you had the biggest, most embarrassing crush on Bakugou when you were both in high school. He was kind of your first love, if you believe in those kinds of things. But you got over it. It's fine.
You see Bakugou sometimes at hangouts, at get-togethers. He's in your orbit, or you're in his, because of your mutual friends. You're all adults now, so it's fine. It's a little weird, but fine.
You're supposed to be on vacation, at a place that's hours away from Musutafu. You're not sure what you've done to deserve it, but Bakugou's here too. And instead of both of you pretending the other doesn't exist, as usual, he's talking to you. He's everywhere. It's fine.
(It's not fine.)
TAGS: pro hero Bakugou Katsuki, aged-up characters, friends to lovers (being generous with that friends label lol), fluff, pining, eventual smut
STATUS: Ongoing; 1 of ?
NAVIGATION: Series Masterlist
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The ryokan’s lobby is bustling, voices a soft buzz echoing through the space. Some guests are like you, waiting for check-in, and other guests are partaking in the complimentary drinks and snack bar. It all calls to mind vacations you went on with your family, growing up. 
Sighing, you sink into an armchair, letting the fatigue from a long trip on a train and subsequent car ride sink in, shed off. 
“Here,” Rie says, setting a cup of tea and a cookie on the table in front of you. She sits in the chair across from you. “You’re grumpy because you haven’t had any sugar today. Eat these. There’s more up front, at the snack bar.” 
“Thanks mom,” you say, and she leans forward to flick you on the forehead. You wince. 
“Just because we’re friends doesn’t mean you can get away with your sass. Especially while we’re on vacation,” she tells you, then lifts her own cup of tea to her lips. You scrunch your face up at her. 
Her eyes flick past you, and she blinks rapidly. You recognize that expression—up to no good. 
“Oh hey,” she says, affecting a casual tone. “Look who just walked in.” 
Rie waits for you to look, but you’re not so easily led around. You narrow your eyes at her. She raises a brow at you. A moment passes. 
Your curiosity’s too strong. You turn and regret it. 
It’s Bakugou. Bakugou Katsuki. What the hell is he doing here?
You immediately swing back around, scowling deeply. You can feel your ears getting warm. 
She gives you a Cheshire grin, finger gunning you. “It’s your first love.”
“Rie, I will leave.” 
She scoffs. “Yeah, right. And miss out on the massages we booked? The onsen? I don’t think so.”
“You don’t know what I’m capable of,” you say darkly. 
She snickers, tilts her head at you. “You don’t want to say hi?” 
“Not really, no,” you say. “And if you call him over, I’ll kill you. Hanta will be sad, but he’ll get over it.” 
Rie laughs. “I don’t know about that. He is dating me, after all.”
“I’ve known him longer. He’ll forgive me.” 
The two of you switch over your attention to an approaching receptionist. 
“Thank you so much for waiting,” he says. “Your room is ready now. Please follow our staff. We’ll take care of your bags.”
You let them take your luggage, too distracted by staying out of Bakugou’s line of sight to pay attention to the small talk the receptionist’s making. Thankfully Rie’s chatting cheerfully with him, leaving you to your task. 
As you enter a hallway leading off the lobby area, you catch a last glimpse of Bakugou. He’s speaking to a staff member at the front desk area, presumably checking in. He’s alone. You wonder if anyone will be joining him, or if he’s here by himself. 
Shaking your head, you push away those thoughts. It’s none of your business. This ryokan’s rather large, and it’s popular with tourists and locals alike. You doubt you’ll see him again during your stay. 
You stare doubtfully at the email Sero forwarded you, then look up at him, your eyebrows furrowed. 
“Hanta, this is a luxury onsen ryokan. And you want me to go with Rie? Why aren’t you going?”
Sero claps his hands together in front of his face. “Please? The agency denied my time off request because we’re so busy. You gotta know how busy we are, even holed up in your office.” 
You frown at him. “The agency denied you? That’s crazy. You haven’t taken time off the whole year.” 
“I know, right? Anyway, Rie doesn’t want to go alone, and the reservation at this place is only valid for so long. Cancelling’s not an option.” 
You frown. “If they denied you, they’ll probably deny me too, Hanta.” 
“Noooo, it doesn’t hurt to put in the request! Plus, you haven’t gone on vacation in years. Treat yourself! This can be my months-in-advance birthday gift to you.”
You try one last time. “Are you sure Rie even wants to go with me? I know you want this to be a surprise, but maybe you should ask her if there’s anyone else she’d want to go on a trip with.”
Sero gives you a look, as if you’d just said something unbelievably stupid. “I’m not even going to respond to that.” 
You snort, smiling. “Alright, alright. Thanks, Hanta. I’ll take all the pictures of Rie and send them to you if the agency does grant me the time off.”
Sero slings an arm around your shoulders. “Thanks, bud.” 
“I miss Hanta,” Rie says, collapsing on her back onto the bed. 
You push both of your bags to the side, to be unpacked later. The entire far wall of your room’s lounge area is glass, with a door leading out to the outdoor area and open-air bath, and you give in to your urge to step outside onto the wood, deck-like floor. 
The bath rises from the floor to your right, rectangular, spacious. The staff member told the both of you it’s fed from the onsen, and the steam it’s giving off dissipates into the cool spring air. The bath and deck are built to overlook a large pond with koi swimming in it, giving the impression that where the deck ends the water begins. The far side of the pond is lined with trees and shrubbery. Wooden partitions on either side of this area enclose the space, giving it a sense of privacy. 
It’s absolutely gorgeous. And it’s so quiet here. Aside from the ambient water sounds from the onsen on the property, birdsong from the nearby forested area, there’s little to interrupt this emerging feeling of serenity. 
“You saw him literally before we left,” you say. “Rie, come out here and look at this view. I call dibs on using the bath first.” 
“You could be more sympathetic. We haven’t been able to see each other much this month,” she grumbles, but she comes out to join you anyway. 
“Okay, you can use the bath first,” you tell her. 
She grins at you, bumping her shoulder against yours. “Thanks, friend.”
“The things I do.” You don’t really mind. You have the entire long weekend to enjoy this place. The peace and quiet are already doing wonders for the tension in your shoulders.
A twinge of guilt passes you in a wave. After the staff member who’d escorted you to your room had given you both a short tour of the space, it really hit you how expensive this all was. 
“Rie, you really should’ve come here with Hanta,” you tell her, frowning. “He should’ve pushed for the time off or adjusted the reservation. This is way too nice of an experience to pass up.”
Rie snorts. 
“Don’t stress,” she says. “You think he didn’t try all that? It was either keep the reservation with someone else or lose out on a lot of money. I wanted you to come, so don’t overthink, silly.”
You lean your arm against hers. “Thanks, Rie. I’ll get you and Hanta something nice for your birthdays.”
She hums, and the two of you lapse into silence, appreciating the birdsong, the late afternoon sun gilding the pond, the surrounding trees in warmth. 
“So, what’s up with you and Bakugou?” Rie asks. “I thought you worked out all those feelings for him back in high school.” 
And there goes all that peace. You groan, turning and heading back inside, grabbing your bag and starting to unpack your clothes. Rie follows you, sprawling out onto your bed this time to be as annoying as possible. 
“I did,” you say, because not answering would result in incessant pestering. Better to nip this conversation in the bud so it doesn’t come back up again while you’re on this trip. You tell her, “We’re cool. You know that. You go to the same get-togethers.”
Since graduating from UA, you’d kept in touch with Sero, who you’d met because he’d been the hero you’d been assigned to for the management course’s third year project. You became good friends, as Sero’s one of those good boys, best boys, genuinely kind and fun to talk to. 
Through your friendship with him, you’d met some of his friends—Kaminari, Kirishima. Mina, Sato. Bakugou. 
While you’d befriended the others pretty easily, Bakugou was a different story. And it wasn’t necessarily his fault. He’d chilled out considerably by your third year.
It was because of your cringey, super obvious crush on him during your first year. 
You were so painfully obvious about it, everyone in your class knew. It didn’t take long for kids in the other courses to take notice. When Bakugou entered a room you were in, you would freeze and forget what you were saying. You’d sneak glances at him, and your entire body would warm up if your eyes met. Even thinking about it now, as an adult, makes you want to die a little.
Thankfully, whether it was because he chose to willfully ignore you or because he just never found out, your crush ran its course. It helped a lot that you began interacting with Bakugou within social circles because of Sero; it humanized him, made him real to you. The fantasy of a crush can’t survive knowing someone, getting to know them, you found. 
Still, probably because of that history, you never got close to Bakugou, while at UA and after. You were too embarrassed, and now you’re just not super interested. If you don’t count this past year, since graduation, you’ve seen him only a handful of times, always in passing and never one-on-one. 
But if you do count this year, specifically the past six months, you’ve seen him a lot. 
At a get-together at Mina’s place. At Todoroki Shouto’s birthday a couple months back. At a dinner with Rie, Sero, Kirishima, and Mina a few weeks ago. You figure he’s had some free time open up, to accept the hangout invites that he once left unresponded to in the group chat. It’d make sense, since he’s at this ryokan when everyone knows he’s a workaholic. 
You’re happy for him. Work-life balance is super important. And you guys aren’t getting any younger.
“No, you guys are weird together,” Rie says. 
You throw a pillow at her. To your annoyance, she catches it easily. 
“What do you mean by weird?” you ask.
“I don’t know. It’s hard to describe. He always looks like he’s bitten into a lemon when he sees you.”
You roll your eyes. “Great. Can we stop talking about Bakugou now?” 
“Last question, I swear.” 
“Last question for the entire trip about him,” you say, narrowing your eyes at her. 
She sighs, as if this is a huge burden on her. “Deal. I was just thinking—what did you even see in him when we were teenagers?”
“Okay, but why are you thinking about this at all,” you say. 
“Just answer the question.”
“It’s not that deep,” you say, shrugging. “I liked his face.” 
“Really?” Rie’s expression, disgruntled and appalled, makes you laugh. 
“Don’t act like he’s not objectively really attractive. He’s handsome, be real.”
“Maybe to some people,” she relents. “But his personality cancels it out, carry the two.” 
“He’s mellowed out so much over the years,” you say. You feel a little odd, finding yourself defending him. “He’s sweet, when he wants to be. Remember how he got Mina that bracelet she wanted so badly, for her birthday? Or how he picked up those special oranges for Hanta when he went on that one mission?”
Rie looks at you for a long moment. As your words settle into the silence, you begin to feel self-conscious. But it’s not like what you’d said isn’t true. Rie knows this. 
Just as you open your mouth to no doubt incriminate yourself further, she leans back on the bed and closes her eyes. “I guess you’re right. You done folding those clothes? I’m hungry. Let’s get dinner. Hanta says it’s kaiseki.”
Dinner is absolutely delicious. Your server tells you and Rie that the chef’s designed the menu to feature ingredients native to the region, ingredients in season. Everything’s fresh, and even dishes you aren’t normally particularly fond of have you cleaning your plate. You feel spoiled. 
You take lots of pictures. Of the dishes, of Rie. You send them to Sero. 
Hanta: The food looks great! My girl looks even better!!! Send more pics pls
Rie’s pleased when you show her the messages. After fussing over her appearance, she makes you take a picture of her in your room’s outdoor bath, hair elegantly twisted up and off her shoulders, the ambient lighting softly illuminating her face. 
“I’m going to take a walk, see what that little bamboo garden looks like at night,” you tell her. She waves at you with one hand, tapping away at her phone, no doubt sending messages to Sero. 
“Don’t drop your phone in the water,” you say, and she makes an impatient sound, shooing you.
Smiling, you leave her to it. 
Now that it’s nighttime, the ryokan is quieter, more subdued. It’s easy enough to find the bamboo garden. The paths are brightly illuminated, the walkways clear and easy to take. Maybe because it’s the evening, but you encounter few people. Most are partaking in the onsen, unwinding after a long day, you guess. You plan to do so yourself, but you stumble across a dimly lit sitting area overlooking a small pond and waterfall. It’s pretty, and you can’t resist lingering. Taking a seat on a bench, you let your mind empty as you watch the glimmer of moonlight on the water. 
“Hey,” a voice says behind you, and you startle, turning. 
Bakugou’s standing there, looking uncharacteristically soft and undone in the onsen’s yukata. His hair is a little damp, spikes fallen. 
Seeing him in traditional wear takes you aback; you’ve only ever seen him in casual clothes—jeans, shirts, sweats. His hero suit, all sleek lines. The yukata’s a good look on him. 
“Oh hey, Bakugou,” you say, then hesitate, feeling awkward. What to say? Should you pretend this is the first you’ve seen of him here? 
While you flounder a little, Bakugou walks over to sit in a chair nearby, facing the water. You’re bewildered at this turn of events. You’re surprised he stopped to say hello, let alone sit and have a conversation with you.  
“Saw you and Soy Sauce Face’s girlfriend at dinner,” he says. “You on vacation?” 
Blinking, relieved, you reply, “Sort of. Long story short, Hanta was supposed to come out here with Rie, but work denied his time off. So I’m the replacement Hanta.” 
Bakugou looks at you. His eyes narrow. You shift in your seat, feeling a little bit like a bug under a microscope. Did you say something weird?
“What about you?” you ask, trying to lift the focus off of you. “You here on vacation?”
“...Yeah. For the weekend,” he says, looking back at the pond, exhaling sharply.
For someone on vacation, he doesn’t look too happy about it, you note. 
“Us too,” you tell him. “What do you think of the ryokan? I haven’t gotten the chance to explore yet, but what I’ve seen is gorgeous. Did you just use the public onsen?” 
“It’s alright,” Bakugou grumbles, and you blink, face scrunching up in incredulity. 
“You must have really high standards to say that, sir,” you say, and he snorts. An expression you can’t quite make out in the low light crosses his face, fades. He really is a handsome bastard, you find yourself thinking. 
He says something you don’t quite catch. 
“Sorry?” you say. Internally, you scold yourself for your idle thoughts. Another part of you argues back that there’s no harm in looking. 
“How’d you know I used the onsen?” he repeats, looking a little annoyed.
“Oh,” you say, surprised. Without thinking, you lean forward, reaching out to touch his hair. 
Bakugou turns his head sharply; he grabs your wrist on what seems like instinct, halting you. You freeze, mortified.
“I’m sorry!” you say hastily. He drops your hand immediately, like you’re contaminated. You draw back. Flustered, you continue, “It’s just—your hair’s still a little wet. I took a guess. Sorry again, I don’t know what I was thinking.” 
You were treating him like he’s Hanta, or Rie, as if you’re close friends. Jeez. 
“Forget it,” he says gruffly. 
There’s a long stretch of silence, and you begin to think of excuses to make to escape. 
Just as you open your mouth with one, he says, “What’re you doing tomorrow?” 
“I—I think Rie wanted to check out the town’s morning market, and the temple nearby,” you say. “She likes to sleep in, so we’ll probably do that after my morning run. The staff said there’s a scenic walking trail through the forest, so I’ll probably check it out.”
You force your mouth closed before the rambling continues. Wait, you should ask him the same, right? To be polite?
But before you can say anything, Bakugou grunts, then stands. 
“Go back to your room,” he tells you. “It’s getting late.”
With that, he leaves. You sit there for a long moment, staring after him.
“Hey, welcome back,” Rie says from her bed, covered from nose to toes in a blanket. Her eyelids droop in a way that tells you she’s minutes from sleep. “You were gone for a while.”
“Yeah, sorry,” you say, closing the door behind you. Woodenly, you begin to gather clothes to change into. “I’m going to take a quick shower, okay? Go ahead and sleep; don’t wait up for me.”
“Mmkay,” she says, eyes already closed. 
You move around as quietly as you can, getting ready for bed. 
All the while, you can’t help but think about the conversation you just had. About Bakugou.
For the past couple months, at gatherings with mutual friends, it’s been like this when you talk to each other. Awkward, with a strange underlying tension. You’re not sure if it’s your fault, or his, but. You wish you could be normal around him. It’s only like this with him.
As you climb into bed, getting settled, the memory of him in his yukata flashes across your closed eyelids. The moonlight on his face, cooling the red of his eyes. His hand around your wrist.
Fuck. 
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Notes: Hello friends! This fic is a very belated birthday fic for our guy, my little muse 🧡 This is intended to be a twoshot, and I hope to have that second part up next weekend. Please look forward to it!
A couple notes, as there are some specifically Japanese items referenced in this fic:
A ryokan is a Japanese-style inn! Onsen are hot springs. So an onsen ryokan is an inn that features hot springs on the property. Here, here, and here are videos you can enjoy of people visiting some.
Kaiseki is a multi-course, traditional Japanese dinner. Some of the videos I linked above show the kinds of kaiseki offered!
Thank you for reading! Hugs and kisses 💕 Until part two!
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munsonsmixtapes · 17 days
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Do Me a Favor?
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Find part two here!
Eddie x fem!shy!bestie!reader
Summary: you buy some weed from your best friend Eddie and after shotgunning from him, you both find yourselves wanting more
word count: 6k
cw: MDNI 18+, smut, oral (f receiving)
The cold air nipped at your skin as you knocked on the trailer door. You tightened your cardigan around you as waited for someone to answer, wondering what the hell you had been doing there. You didn’t smoke weed. You didn’t buy it either, but maybe you just wanted to see the cute metalhead who was supposedly the best dealer in town, even though he was one of your closest friends and let you come over whenever you wanted.
You had been friends with Eddie Munson since that one time he helped you pick the books that you had dropped when someone had bumped into you in the hallway in the tenth grade. He had grabbed your copy of Lord of the Rings and the two of you yapped about it all the way to the cafeteria where he let you sit with his group.
After letting you sit with him every day, he eventually asked you to join Hellfire Club and you happily agreed. Not long after, the two of you found yourselves hanging out outside of the club, occasionally getting dinner or watching a movie at your house.
Over time, you started to develop romantic feelings because how could you not have? Eddie was just so sweet and caring and he looked out for you like no one else did. And maybe it was silly to crush on your best friend, but you couldn’t help it. Aside from his charming personality, he also happened to be very easy on the eyes.
The door opened, pulling you out of your thoughts and there Eddie was on the other side, looking like something out of your dreams in his cropped band t-shirt and sweatpants that he had rolled down a few times, giving you a great view of the patch of hair that was right under his belly button.
“Y/n?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. He hadn’t been expecting you, but couldn’t help but feel intrigued to know why you were there.
“Hi, Eddie,” you nodded at him, not quite able to look him in the eye. You had hyped yourself up on the way there, but now that he was actually standing in front of you, you were feeling shy.
“What are you doing here?” He scratched the back of his head, causing his shirt to ride up even more and your mind suddenly went blank. “Thought you had to work.”
“I just got off and I um-I was wondering if I could buy some weed from you.” Eddie laughed at that. He always saw you as an innocent little thing who did everything she was supposed to. A goody-two-shoes that never broke the rules.
“Well,” he let out a chuckle. “I never thought I’d see the day.” Though, he kind of liked the idea of selling weed to you. Not only was it a funny thought, imagining you actually smoking the stuff, but it seemed like you were on edge every time he saw you and he thought you could use something to calm you down.
“We’re not in high school anymore. I’ve changed.” There was a little truth to your statement, but not much. The only thing that had changed about you since high school was that maybe you had a little more confidence and that you had finally gotten your braces off. Other than that, you were pretty much the same.
“So you have,” he nodded. “Well, why don’t you come inside and I’ll show you what I’ve got?” He held the door open for you as you stepped inside, letting it slam behind you. You looked around the place, loving how cozy it felt, especially since you were no longer in the cold weather. You rubbed your hands up and down your arms as you stepped further inside, trying to bring some more warmth to your body. You should have known that it was going to be a bad idea riding your bike across town without a jacket, but the damage was already done.
“The stuff’s in my room if you want to follow me.” Eddie couldn’t help but notice how quiet you were, but he had to admit that he thought it was cute. He knew that that was just who you were, but he couldn’t help but feel like he was making you feel nervous. He didn’t want you to feel pressured into taking the weed if you really didn’t want it. He didn’t know why he cared so much, it was just a normal sale.
Except it wasn’t. You were his best friend and had no experience with drugs whatsoever. He wanted to know why you had a sudden interest, but didn’t feel like it was his business to ask, no matter how close the two of you were.
Eddie had always thought you were pretty, but also thought that you were out of his league. He was the town freak and you were the shy girl who always had her nose in a book. He didn’t think that the two of you were exactly a great match. He didn’t want anyone starting rumors about you too, so he let you slip through his fingers. He decided that he was already risking enough by being friends with you.
But now there you were, standing in the doorway of his room, somehow having gotten prettier since he had seen you a few days ago. You were avoiding his eye contact, staring at the desk that was behind him. You were eyeing the stack of books that were sitting on top of it, wondering what they were, noticing that they were different than the ones that had been there before.
You slowly stepped further into the room, making a beeline for the stack, noticing that they were all new books. You slowly looked at all the covers, most of them being ones you had never heard of, but you were interested in every single one as soon as you read the back. Your face lit up at the book that was on the very bottom. It was your current favorite fantasy novel that you had read more times than you had cared to admit, but you had lost your copy and hadn’t been able to get a new one. You opened the book and let out a gasp at the little signature on the first page, wondering if he had bought it like that or if there was a signing that you didn’t know about.
Eddie watched you, still finding the way that you mumbled to words that were printed on the books to yourself adorable. For a second, he had completely forgotten why you were there. For a second, he had been convinced that you were there to hang out with him like usual.
“I can’t believe you have a signed copy of this.” You turned to face him, showing him the signature. He just let out a chuckle at that, finding you even more adorable. He didn’t think he had ever seen you so animated in the years that he had known you. “How did I not know this?”
“Oh, yeah, I got it a couple weeks ago,” he shrugged. “I honestly forgot that I had it.” The thing had been sitting on his desk since after the signing and he really had forgotten about it, his obsession with it being completely abandoned for another. “You can…keep it if you want.” Your eyes lit up at his suggestion but you quickly slumped your shoulders.
“Oh, no, I couldn’t take it from you.” You set the book back on the desk, knowing that you would have felt bad taking something like that from him. Even though it looked like it hadn’t been touched in a while, you could tell that it meant something to him.
“No,” he shook his head, moving towards you. He took the book and shoved it into your hands, his touching yours as he did so. “Take it, l/n. Please. It’s just been collecting dust here and a thing like that deserves to go to a good home.”
“Are you sure?” His eyes bored into yours to show you how serious he was and you couldn’t help but stare into them. They were hypnotizing, so brown and pretty. You had always been a sucker for brown eyes, especially Eddie’s. You knew that you’d do anything he asked just by looking into them, and you were sure that if he knew that fact, he would have gotten you into trouble.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” His hands were still on yours and you were so aware of his touch, loving how soft but rough his skin was. You could feel the cold metal that was his rings against your fingers that was mixed with the warmness of his hands. You just wanted to take them into your own, interlacing your fingers with his.
Eddie took the book from your hands and removed one of the straps of your tote bag from your shoulder and let the book fall inside before putting the strap right back. A smirk kicked up at the corner of his lips and you stared at them, thinking about how kissable they looked. They were so pink and plump and you just wanted to know what they felt like slotted between yours.
“Just so you don’t think about leaving it here,” he winked then turned on his heel to head to his bedside table. He pulled out a tin lunchbox from the bottom shelf and set it on the bed before opening it. He rifled through it, pulling out multiple plastic bags, trying to remember if he even had anything for a beginner. Most of the stuff he had was for people with a much higher tolerance and he didn’t want to start you on something you couldn’t handle.
Eddie found just what he was looking for at the bottom of the lunchbox and held it up to the light just to make sure, then nodded. He then closed the lunchbox and put it back where he found it and sat down on the edge of his bed, patting the spot next to him. You hesitantly sat down next to him, so close to the other end that if you sat any farther away from him, you’d fall to the floor.
Your heart was racing in your chest. You weren’t even going to smoke the stuff, you just wanted to be able to say that you bought some. Once you got home, you had every intention of throwing it into a drawer, never to be touched again. You just were afraid of what it would do to you so you definitely weren’t going to smoke it alone. That was just too scary. Maybe if you had more confidence, you could have asked him to smoke it with you.
“How much?” You asked, reaching for the money you had in your pocket and Eddie just shook his head.
“No need, l/n,” he rested his hand on top of yours to stop you. “First one’s always free,” he winked and your cheeks flushed.
“Could you do me a favor?” You asked, not even thinking about the words that were coming out of your mouth. Eddie titled his head to the side, wondering what you could have possibly wanted him to do for you.
“Anything,” he nodded quickly, ready to do whatever you asked, no matter how weird or ridiculous. “You know that.”
“Would you…want to smoke with me?” That was the last thing he was expecting to ask. He didn’t think that you ever want to get high with him.
“Yeah, sure,” he shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant about the whole thing. He hoped you couldn’t hear how hard his heart was beating his chest as he suddenly felt nervous about the whole thing. “You really want to?” He just wanted to be sure before he started anything.
“Please.” The words came out more desperate than you had intended, but you didn’t even care. You were just happy that he said the words you had been afraid to. Now you didn’t have to worry. He'd be right there to help you if something went wrong and you were sure that he wouldn’t judge if you did something that wasn’t right.
“Alright, well, I’m just gonna roll this up, okay?” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder at his desk as he held up the baggie with his other hand. You felt a weight lift off your shoulders as Eddie gave you a reassuring smile, standing from his bed.
You just nodded in response and he pulled his chair out, sitting at his desk, getting to work. You stayed on the bed, not wanting to get into his space, just letting him do whatever he needed to. You sat patiently, trying not to think too much about what you were doing or you were going to back out. You only got one chance to smoke with your crush and you were going to take it.
Once Eddie had the joint all rolled up, he turned in his chair to face you then made his way back to the bed, sitting down on it hesitantly. Your comfort was his top priority and he was fully prepared to stop everything if you didn’t want to continue.He turned to face you, giving you his full attention. He had never smoked with a first-timer, but he still knew exactly what to do. He wanted to give you options, letting you have full control of the situation.
“So, we can either take turns or we can shotgun, which is where I inhale the smoke and blow it into your mouth. Whatever you want to do is fine with me.” He was being so sweet and gentle and it was getting really difficult for you to not fall for him even harder. You weighed your options and decided that shotgunning was probably the best idea. That way, there was less of a chance that you’d choke and maybe you just wanted to be close to Eddie.
“Can we…shotgun?” You words came out unsure and Eddie’s eyebrows furrowed, wanting to make sure that was actually what you wanted. You nodded enthusiastically, scooting closer to him again. “That’s what I want to do.”
“Then let’s do it.” Eddie turned to grab his lighter from his bedside table and smiled to himself since he had secretly wanted you to pick shotgun. He wanted to be able to touch you, to feel your lips on his, the whole idea making him a little hard. Once he had the lighter, he put the joint between his fingers before holding the lighter out to you. “Wanna do the honors, cutie?”
“Sure,” you nodded and took the lighter from him. You sparked the lighter up and cupped your hand around the joint like you had seen in movies and let it catch the flame before pulling away. You kept hold of the lighter as Eddie beckoned you forward with his free hand.
“C’mere,” he said and you obeyed, moving so you were sitting crisscrossed in front of him. He mimicked your actions and you both got so close that your legs were touching. “Make sure the smoke is in your mouth before inhaling, okay? Don’t want you choking.” You just nodded and Eddie took a drag and held the smoke in his mouth as you leaned forward even more. Your lips parted and Eddie reached up to your face slowly, giving you a look as if asking for permission.
“Do what you need to do,” you told him and his fingers took hold of your chin. His thumb reached up to your bottom lip and he pulled it down as if asking you to open your mouth wider. After it was wide enough, his hand moved to your cheek, pulling your face to his. He gingerly opened up, pressing his lips to your before pushing the smoke into your mouth. You did as he instructed and waited until all of the smoke was in your mouth before you took a deep breath.
Eddie leaned away so you could exhale, gauging your reaction to make sure that you were okay. Just from your first hit, you had been doing a lot better than other first-timers he had seen. Sure, you had only done well because he had told you what to do, but he still thought that you were a natural.
“I don’t feel anything.” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you still felt very sober and Eddie just laughed in response.
“You’re not going to feel anything right away, hon.” His hand moved to your shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Do you want another hit?”
“Yes,” you nodded and Eddie took another puff and held the joint away from the both of you as he grabbed hold of your waist, pressing his open mouth to yours once again. He blew the smoke into your mouth and you inhaled before you were supposed to, pulling away to cough into your arm. You had been so focused on the way Eddie’s lips felt against yours that you had completely forgotten what you were supposed to do.
“You okay?” He asked, his hand moving to your back, giving it a sympathetic rub. You just held your thumb up as an indication as you continued to cough. “C’mon, let’s go get some water.”
He stubbed the joint out onto his desk then took you by the hand, pulling you from the bed. You continued to cough all the way to the kitchen and couldn’t believe that you had ruined the good time you were having because you had gotten distracted.
Eddie quickly grabbed a glass from one of the cabinets and filled it up with water from the tap before handing it to you. You quickly gulped down as much of the beverage as you could and let out a sigh of relief as you set the empty glass down on the counter.
“You okay? You good?” He asked, the words rushing out of his mouth. He stood in front of you, his hands resting on your back, rubbing up and down in a comforting manner. You leaned into him, your forehead pressing against his chin.
Eddie didn’t know why he felt the need to comfort you and why it had become second nature to him when he was never good at or liked it, he didn’t know. Anytime he was around first-timers who inhaled improperly, someone else always stepped in to help while he watched from the sidelines. But now, there he was, fully prepared to give you whatever you needed.
“I’m good,” you assured him, your arms wrapping around his waist. “Can you just…hold me for a second?”
“I can hold you for all the seconds, honey.” You weren’t sure where the little nickname came from, but you were eating it up, wanting him to say it anytime he referred to you.
You pulled back to look at him and your eyes immediately shifted to his lips. You watched him wet them with his tongue, the wet sheen making them look even more inviting. It was like he was doing it on purpose, trying to torture you by dangling it in your face, knowing that you wouldn’t do anything about it.
Before you could stop yourself, you pressed your lips to his in a lingering peck before quickly pulling away. An embarrassed flush made its way upon your face and you covered your lips with the pads of your fingertips.
“I’m sorry,” you apologized. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
You turned to leave and Eddie didn’t let you get far. He grabbed hold of your wrist and turned you around to face him. He took no time to cradle your face in your hands and capture your top lip between his two. Your hands found his waist and you pulled him to you so he was flush with your body. The kiss was slow and sweet, as if the two of you had all the time in the world. It was everything you had ever hoped, everything you could have ever imagined.
“Don’t ever apologize for that,” he insisted against your lips. “You have absolutely no idea how long I’ve wanted this.” That made you stop in your tracks. You quickly pulled away to look at him, your eyes widening.
“How long?” You were desperate to know exactly how long he had felt that way about you so you could see how much your crushes had overlapped each other.
“Since high school. Almost kissed you that night when I drove you home from Hellfire and I’ve been kicking myself ever since because I didn’t.”
You had remembered that night so vividly. You had ridden your bike, but Eddie had insisted on giving you a ride home. The two of you had talked the entire time about everything and nothing, occasionally giggling at little jokes that you had shared with each other. Even after Eddie had pulled into your driveway, you still sat there, neither of you wanting you to leave. You had noticed him leaning towards you, but you didn’t want to make any assumptions, so you just said your goodbyes and you just felt embarrassed for thinking that he was going to kiss you when it had been clear that he hadn’t.
All that time, you could have sworn that he was going to kiss you and you had been right. You actually hadn’t been delusional for once. For once, the guy that you had feelings for actually reciprocated them and you couldn’t have been more elated.
“Well, now you can make up for lost time.” Your hands rested against his back.
“Don’t mind if I do.” Eddie pulled you back in for another kiss, this one more rough and messy, the two of you so desperate for the other, taking exactly what you wanted from each other.
Eddie’s hands moved to your cardigan and he undid the first button so slowly, giving you a chance to back out if you wanted to. Once he got the okay to continue, he undid the rest and pushed it off of your shoulders. You removed it from your arms and let it fall to the floor.
You let your hands trail up his back and you pulled onto the bottom of his shirt before pulling it over his head. Once it was removed, he threw it to the side, grabbing hold of your waist again. His hands slipped to the strip of skin between the top of your jeans and the bottom of your tank top that had ridden up as he backed you up to the counter, your back hitting it.
He helped you get up on top of it and you spread your legs, Eddie stepping between them. His mouth was quickly on yours again as he licked into it, his tongue roaming around it as if he was trying to taste every single bit of it.
You let out a moan as his tongue swirled around yours and your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him as close to you as possible. His hands traveled up your shirt and moved to your bra, his fingers resting on the clasp as if asking to take it off.
“Take it off,” you commanded. “Please.” The word came out like a whine and Eddie was happy to oblige, quickly unhooking the clasping before removing the straps from your arms and sliding the whole thing down and pulling it from your tank top. He tossed it behind him then looked at you, searching your face for any sign of hesitance.
“Are you sure you want to keep going?” He licked his lips, his chest rising and falling from being out of breath from your lips being attached. He would have never forgiven himself if he had done something you weren’t comfortable with. He just wanted to be one hundred percent sure.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life, Eds.” Your hand moved up to his cheek, stroking it with your thumb. “I’ve been thinking about this a lot and I want you to be my first.”
“Your first?” His eyes widened. He honestly had no idea that you were a virgin. “Y/n, are you sure you want it to be me?” Eddie wanted to be sure that it was actually what you wanted. That you were doing it with someone you cared about and he wasn’t sure he deserved to be your first.
“Very sure,” you nodded. “You’re the only one I trust to do it.” He felt his cheeks blush at your words, knowing that they meant that you had thought about having sex with him and his dick was getting harder by the second.
“Y/n, you have no idea how honored I am that you want it to be me, but I just want to be sure that you really want this.” Eddie thought it was the greatest honor of all that he was the one that you wanted to lose your virginity to and considered himself the luckiest man alive because of it.
“I’m sure,” you nodded. “I’ve thought about this a lot.”
“Oh, have you?” He teased and pressed another kiss to your lips. “Wanna move this to the bedroom?”
“I’d want nothing more.” Eddie’s lips slotted between yours once again and his hands moved out from under your shirt and wrapped around your waist, pulling you from the counter. Your ankles locked at his back and he carried you to his room, your lips still in the middle of a messy kiss.
He entered his room and slammed the door behind him with his foot, hurrying the two of you to his bed. He collapsed onto it and you fell on top of him. He then sat up and looked at you with a serious look in his eyes.
“I just want to let you know a few things before we get started,” he said, his hands resting on your thighs.
“Okay,” you nodded, ready to listen to whatever he needed to say.
“First, if I go too far or you don’t like something or even if you don’t want to continue, don’t be afraid to let me know. This is all about you, okay?” You just nodded in response and Eddie licked his lips before he continued.
“And on the opposite end, don’t be afraid to let me know what you do like. If you like something, feel free to make noise, and you don’t have to be embarrassed about being too loud. There’s no such thing.”
“Got it,” you nodded, looking him in the eyes so he knew that you completely understood what he was saying. You were desperate to get on with it already, but felt like you owed it to him to listen to what he was saying since it seemed pretty important.
“Do you want to start or should I?”
“You do it.” You wanted him to take the lead since he knew exactly what he was doing.
“Okay,” he replied, leaning towards you, his face only inches from yours. “Just gonna kiss you for now, okay?”
“Mhm,” you nodded and his lips attached to yours again. You felt a little more confident and you were the one to stick your tongue into his mouth, mimicking what he had done earlier, slowly laying him down onto the bed, removing your shirt as you did so. You then leaned down and pulled him into a kiss, your bare chest against his. Eddie brought his hands up and grabbed hold of your tits, the pads of his thumbs massaging your nipples, just enough to make them hard and you made a noise that he knew that he was going to grow very fond of.
Eddie pulled away from you, his mouth immediately moving to your tit. He moved his tongue back and forth, licking across your nipple and you moaned. The whole thing was so foreign to you but you liked the feeling.
Just as you were getting used to it, he took your nipple between his teeth and gave it a pull, causing your hands to move to his hair, giving it a yank. Eddie took that as an invitation to continue and moved to the other nipple, giving it the same attention. You gave it his hair another yank and let out one more moan, trying your best to not be self conscious about how loud you were.
“That’s it, honey,” he said, licking another stripe along your nipple. “Let it out.” Eddie pressed his lips to the spot between your breasts then flipped you over so that your back was against the mattress. He pressed open mouthed kisses all the way down to your stomach and stopped when he got to the top of your jeans.
“These look great on you,” he complimented. “But I’d think they’d look better on the floor. Can I remove them?”
“Yes, please.” He took no time to unbutton them and pulled down the zipper before pulling them down your legs and tossing them to the side. He pressed a kiss to the spot above your underwear then looked up at you for permission to remove them.
“Take them off, Eds. Please. I need you.” Your words came out so whiny and Eddie felt himself getting even more hard.
“Yes ma’am,” he responded before taking your underwear off. He was about to throw them on the floor, but you stopped him, putting your hands over his.
“You should keep them,” you told him. “To remember this night.”
“Isn't that objectification?” He liked the idea of keeping your underwear, but also kind of felt like he was treating you like an object by doing that.
“Not if I say it isn’t. Put them in your pocket.” Without a second thought, Eddie put the underwear into his back pocket before resting his hand on your knees, pulling you in for a bruising kiss. He then spread your legs open to get a peek at your pussy which was sopping wet.
“Wow,” he said, noticing that there was already a stain from where everything had leaked out onto his bedding. “This might be the wettest pussy I’ve ever seen. Mind if I get a taste?”
“I wouldn’t mind at all.” Eddie climbed off of the bed as he pulled you to the end of it. He then got onto his knees before throwing your legs over his shoulders. He looked up at you one more time for any signs of hesitance and when he saw how eager you looked, he slowly pushed his head between your thighs, burying his face into your cunt.
You let out a gasp as his nose brushed it and gripped the blanket as he licked a stripe from your slit to your clit. He swirled his tongue around the area and you couldn’t keep your sounds to yourself anymore.
“Oh, Eddie,” you moaned, your fingers gripping more of the blanket as he worked his magic with his tongue. He grazed the sensitive spot with his teeth and you whimpered which let him know that he could continue. He applied a little more pressure with his teeth, loving the sounds that the action elicited from you.
“So good, Eds. Need more.” You were desperate for whatever he was going to give you, not caring at all what it was, just as long it felt as good as him giving you head.
“Oh, this is just the appetizer, hon.” He dove into your cunt once more, shoving his tongue inside of it, causing you to moan the loudest you ever had.
“Fuck, Eddie, more.” He swirled his tongue around and around and you made the most beautiful sounds he had ever heard in his life, knowing that they’d still ring in his head after the night was over.
After a couple more moans, he removed his face from your pussy and practically threw himself on top of you, pressing his lips to yours in a filthy kiss, his tongue swirling around your mouth.
“See how good you taste, honey?” He asked. “Wanna taste you all the time.”
“And I’ll let you,” you responded. “Whenever you want.”
“I love the sound of that.” He slotted his lips between yours in a dizzying kiss before pulling away. He then reached for his bedside table and pulled the drawer open before taking out a condom, not even bothering to close the drawer back.
“I don’t think I’m ready,” you told him, your voice barely above a whisper. You knew he wouldn’t ever judge you, but still couldn’t help but feel like he was going to be mad at you. He let the condom fall to the floor then moved himself back on top of you, his hands taking yours, intertwining your fingers.
“Are you mad?” You looked up at him, and his face softened instantly. He would have never been mad at you for that. Maybe he was a little disappointed, but he thought he would have been wrong to blame your for something like that.
“Baby, no, of course I’m not mad at you.” He shook his head, giving your hands a squeeze. He couldn’t have been mad at you if he tried.
“Promise?” You needed constant reassurance or your brain would convince you that he was lying.
“I promise, honey,” he nodded. “How about we put on some pajamas and watch a movie? Anything you want.”
“I’d like that,” you nodded. You really had thought you were ready, but the whole thing still scared you. You really enjoyed everything leading up to it, but still found the penetration part to be too much for you at the moment.
Eddie rolled off of you and pulled out a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants out of his dresser before tossing them to you. You threw them on while he headed to the bathroom to get ready for bed and still felt anxious about him being mad at you. What you had was so good and you were convinced that you had ruined it.
“I’m not mad at you,” he called from the bathroom. He knew you too well sometimes, always somehow knowing exactly what you were thinking. He knew how prone you were to overthinking and was always there to reassure you that your thoughts were in fact not true.
Eddie emerged from the bathroom and threw on a shirt before throwing himself onto the mattress and rolling back on top of you. He pressed another bruising kiss to your lips, his hands reaching for yours again. He then pulled away, a grin breaking out on his face as he looked down at you.
“I’m not mad at you,” he repeated, burying his face into your neck, snuggling into it.
“I know,” you replied, just like always, but he was never convinced, even though you really did know that he wasn’t mad at you.
“I’m not mad at you,” he said one more time, pressing a kiss to your neck before rolling off you.
He reached for the remote to his tv and turned it on before pulling you to his chest. You both watched the screen mindlessly while your arms wrapped around him. One of his arms draped across your waist while the other hand stroked your hair, something he always did to bring you comfort.
You looked up at him as he watched the tv and couldn’t help but feel lucky to have a best friend like him. Someone who was always there for you no matter what. Someone who would never judge you for anything, no matter what he really thought about it. Someone who you were completely and one hundred percent head over heels for. And maybe, just maybe, one of these days you’d get the guts to tell him how you really felt.
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starryeyedjanai · 1 month
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Steve and Eddie meet through their local buy-nothing-sell-nothing group when Steve’s getting ready to move in with Robin and he realizes he can't keep everything he owns while trying to merge households with her.
The first time they meet, Steve hadn't even been meaning to actually meet the person picking up the free toaster oven he’s giving away.
He’s setting his toaster oven outside his house on the porch when Eddie hops out of his van to pick it up and it would be rude to duck back inside without saying anything since he obviously sees him coming up, so they make small talk for a minute and Steve has to keep his eyeballs in check because they keep wanting to rake all the way down this guy’s body.
He’s covered in tattoos and so extremely Steve's type, but he knows better than to hit on someone who lives in his neighborhood and is not here for that reason.
He laments to Robin about it the next day, about the hot guy who’s probably using Steve's toaster oven as they speak, who he’ll probably never see again.
Robin rolls her eyes fondly at him and tells him that maybe if he puts more stuff up for grabs on the facebook group, he might see him again, but Steve suspects she just wants him to get rid of more of his stuff so it doesn't overcrowd their new apartment.
The set of items he puts up in the group next is an old blender and a butcher block that has three of the knives missing—seriously where did those knives go? He has yet to find them.
He tries to pretend he isn't secretly hoping Eddie will comment under his post that he wants the items, but he isn't fooling himself when his heart literally skips a beat when the first comment is from Eddie. He messages him and tells him to stop by later that day.
When Eddie shows up, they talk for longer than last time, Eddie asking why Steve needs to get rid of so much stuff and Steve asking why Eddie needs all this stuff—especially considering Steve snooped through the group and saw that Eddie joined over a year ago and hadn't once commented before now (he doesn't mention that thought, but he is thinking it real hard).
Eddie laughs and says he was in the market for a toaster oven when Steve posted one and wouldn't you know it? He also needs a blender—the knife set is just a bonus, he says.
Steve tries not to read too much into it, but his brain is spinning the interaction around in his head for the next week.
He puts up a space heater in the group and within minutes, Eddie has claimed it.
“I should just get your number and text you directly when I find something I want to get rid of next time,” Steve says flippantly when Eddie comes by to grab it that night. “Instead of clogging up the facebook group.”
Eddie smirks at him and steps a little closer. He says, “Maybe you should.”
His neighbor’s car alarm decides to go off right at that moment, ruining the flirty atmosphere with its incessant shrill. They can barely hear each other over the drone of it, so Eddie leaves without giving Steve his number and Steve is left feeling like he keeps having these missed connection moments with Eddie.
In a fit of desperation to see Eddie again, Steve puts up a bunch of random stuff in the group the next day—a shoe rack that’s missing a piece, a step stool, a cheap side table he got from Ikea—and Eddie is still the first person to comment like he’s been refreshing the page, just waiting for Steve to post.
“I left without giving you my number last time and I didn't want to be creepy and message you unprompted,” Eddie says as they load the side table into his van. “I think I was overthinking things and then got kind of spooked.”
“It doesn't look like anything could spook you,” Steve says.
When they get the side table inside the back of the van, Eddie turns to him and admits, “A very pretty boy could.”
Steve can feel his face getting hot. “You think I’m pretty?” he asks.
Eddie nods. “Why do you think I keep coming here? There's no way a person who’s lived here for as long as I have would need all this stuff.”
“Did you need any of it?” Steve asks in a teasing voice. “Or were you just so blown away by how cute my profile picture is that you just had to meet me?”
“Oh, I needed the toaster oven, but everything after that was just to see you again,” Eddie says before biting his lip.
There’s an entire swarm of butterflies in his stomach when Eddie's hand brushes his, when Steve takes Eddie's hand in his and leads him inside his box-filled house.
Later, when they’re making out on Steve's couch—when Steve really should still be packing since he has to move in less than a week—he pulls back to ask, “Wait, so are you gonna put the rest of the stuff you don't need back up for grabs in the group? I feel like that would start so much neighborhood gossip.”
Eddie grins wide and Steve wants to kiss him again, wants to feel his smile against his mouth.
“Oh, we’ll be the talk of the town, baby,” Eddie says, pulling him back in.
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satoruxx · 3 months
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PARACOSM OF THE GODS.
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PAIRING: gojo satoru x f!reader, geto suguru x f!reader | 11.5k words
SUMMARY: ok here we go, canon au, angst, fluff, best friends being in love, stsg being whipped but unable to express it, reader is clueless as usual, timeskips, canon compliant deaths, bittersweet, longing, mutual pining, emotionally stunted teens, dad!gojo makes an appearance, hopefully that’s it i'm tired of typing
RHEYA'S NOTE: highkey lowkey stressed posting bc this has been sitting in my wips for 4 years now. i honestly didn't have to add much to it i basically just proofread. but yeah when you maladaptive daydream and create a plot where you're a character in jjk and you're also in love with gojo and geto this is what happens. a little sad to let this go but it's time !! plus i can add more parts later. but anyways pls lmk what you think, i'm super curious to know <33
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i. the unknown
satoru's first impression of you is anything but kind.  
his words come casually, free into the wind without care, and they aren't meant for you to hear. instead, they fall only to suguru's ears, evoking a deep chuckle and a slight shake of his head. his bangs swish a little with the movement, but satoru is too busy eyeing you over the frame of his shades to notice. 
you're lucky to have not heard it, because the intent with which it was said would have probably made your brow tick with frustration. he says it without a thought, as if he hasn't the slightest bit of interest in you as hints of arrogance fill his tone. 
"who's the rookie?" 
satoru and suguru sit outside against the patio railings of the classroom they had chosen for the day. it overlooks the grounds of the school, where they have a clear view of who approaches the main entrance. suguru absentmindedly clicks his lighter—shoko had gone to get another pack of cigarettes. 
it is from this higher point that they have a clear view of you. you're so obviously new to this, satoru thinks as he watches how you awkwardly stand in front of yaga sensei. 
he already wants to label you as a side character. it's mean, he realizes—cruel even, but he can barely bring himself to care. 
"yaga sensei mentioned that there'd be a new student joining us this week," suguru says, fingering the bangs hanging in front of his eyes. they roam over you with only slight interest before uttering your full name, just as his teacher had said it.
satoru repeats it with a hum. "not a big name or anything. a small-sized family of sorcerers i think." he shrugs carelessly. "but honestly i never really paid attention to all those stupid clan and jujutsu family lessons." 
suguru only responds with a good-natured chuckle, tearing his eyes away from the scene to look at his friend. "no shit." 
the two sit in quiet silence, watching yaga's lips move in structured, emotionless greetings as he shakes your hand. satoru is especially focused on the hunching of your shoulders and the way your eyes nervously dart around. 
suguru is the first to interrupt the peace. 
"maybe she's strong?" 
"are you kidding?" satoru scoffs as he stands up straight, shoving his fists into his pockets. he turns his nose up slightly. "that's not the attitude of someone who's confident in their abilities." 
ii. routine 
"can i ask you guys a question?" 
a cool breeze tickles your skin, goosebumps rising in its wake, and you suppress a shiver. the smell of the air tells you winter is fast approaching. 
"you just did," satoru hums, his snowy hair splayed out against stems of green grass. suguru's chuckle reverberates deep in his chest, and you have to push back an exasperated smile. 
"another one then," you press, leaning over satoru's face to force yourself into his view. his blue eyes pierce through yours over the dark-rimmed frames of his glasses, and even after seeing them so many times, they still feel as dominating as the first. he hums again, and you take that as your cue. 
"what did you first think of me when we met all those months ago?" 
satoru sits up quickly, and you can already feel your shoulders dropping when you catch a glimpse of the teasing smirk on his lips. he shifts so that he's directly facing you, leaning close so that the two of you are barely a palm's distance from one another. 
"thought you were an annoying little rookie~" he sings and you immediately shove at his shoulder.
"'m not a rookie anymore," you huff, and satoru laughs joyously. suguru only grins, his eyes darting between the two of you happily. satoru moves himself into a proper sitting position, digging his long fingers into your bag of chips and popping one into his mouth. you swat at his hand, even though you don't mean it, because though you complain about gojo satoru all the time, you would give him the whole world if you could. 
you and satoru take turns reaching into the bag. you wonder if the sound of crunching disturbs suguru. he's not asleep—he's just doing that thing where he keeps his eyes closed and escapes to his own land of tranquility. you'd like to give him as much peace as you can, so you stay quiet. satoru does too, but you think that's just because you aren't talking to him. 
the quiet is nice when you're with them. sometimes silence makes you feel alone—paranoid. it feels like there is some impending doom hovering over your shoulder, and all you can do is wait for it to come. but with them it is different. you know that any danger in the quiet will be caught by the two of them. maybe that's why it's so easy to let your guard down around them. you trust that they won't let you die.  
"i thought you were weak," satoru pipes up after a few minutes of silence. "you didn't seem like you were confident in your abilities, and that's a sign of weakness." 
after spending so much time with satoru and suguru, the word weak has permeated almost every one of your conversations. later you learned how much more significant it was for them to label someone as strong. you chase after the word—crave it.
"and turns out that wasn't true." suguru adds with a smile, his head leaning back against the trunk of the tree. his eyes are still closed serenely and you wonder if he can feel the way you're gazing at him. 
"yeah and now you act like some big hotshot," satoru grumbles, as though he doesn't want to admit to his old mistake, but you can hear his smile. it annoys you, the way his once degrading little nickname has now somewhat turned into a term of endearment. you would rather die than admit that you like hearing him say it. 
"well, I'm glad that i was able to prove you both wrong."
the conversation ends there. 
shoko returns a few minutes later, tossing you a can of soda and suguru a pack of cigarettes. as soon as she sits down in her spot under the tree you're forcing your head into her lap and kicking your feet onto satoru's legs. you ignore his complaints, because you know that in just a little bit he'll quiet down and his hand will rest over your ankle, fingers soft but firm. they'll occasionally drum some rhythmic tune, or draw nonsensical patterns against your skin.
shoko's fingers thread through your hair, just like they always do, and you know that in a few minutes you'll doze off in her lap, just like you always do. it's clockwork, this thing that you have with them. they make the days keep going—time doesn't stop for you. 
a part of you wishes you could freeze time at that moment. 
but you can't. 
iii. halcyon
"hey suguru?"
"hm?"
"how come you always do your hair the same way?"
suguru glances up from his book. he's seated at your desk, and for a minute, the breeze pushes your curtains so that they block your view of him. satoru groans lightly from your left, turning on his side to snuggle deeper into your pillow, and slumber overtakes him once more. him and shoko remain quiet, faces free of worry as they dream in a land that is so unlike the real world you live in.
"what do you mean?" suguru asks in response to your question. he has an amused smile on his face as he places his book on your desk, though his thumb and pointer finger keep his page.
"well…" you suddenly feel stupid for asking, but he's looking at you so intently now. "you have such nice hair. you could style it in so many different ways."
"are you saying you don't like my hair the way it is?" he frowns.
"no no!" you scramble, shaking your head emphatically. quite the opposite actually you think he's so so attractive—how on earth did you screw this up so badly? "that's not it i just—"
he laughs, tilting his head fondly. "i'm just messing with you, hotshot."
you blanch, before crossing your arms with a huff. "asshole…"
he chuckles, before lifting a calloused hand up to finger the tie that holds his hair in a bun. he glances back at you, before a michevious smile settles on his face. he gives the tie one sharp tug, and the bun falls away. black hair drops, resting on his shoulders, and you stare at him—oddly parched. wind brushes through the open window, tickling your curtains, tickling his now open hair. you had seen his hair down before, of course. in the few seconds after a sparring session when the bun had gotten loose, or when too many strands escaped the tie and fell in front of his face (he always pushed them away with an agitated huff). but now he looks different—good, you realize. he looks good.
"how should i style it then, hotshot?"
his question shakes you out of your daze. you hum in contemplation. "i don't know."
he laughs quietly, as to not wake the other two. "didn't you just say there were so many ways to style it? enlighten me then," he teases, reaching over to grab a small scrap of paper from your desk. he slots it where his fingers are holding place, and then closes the book. he swivels in the chair to face you completely, rolling over so that he's right in front of you.
"well…" you start, biting your lip in thought. "a ponytail maybe?"
suguru bunches his hair into his fist, holding it up against his head. "and? how do i look?"
you grin, eyeing the new style with a stifled laugh. "fantastic."
he laughs again, louder this time, before dropping his hand.
"it looked good though!" you laugh and he rolls his eyes fondly.
"yeah yeah," he dismisses with a wave of his hand. he looks back at you, eyes tracing over your hair before he grins wide.
"i like yours."
you blink. "mine?"
"the way you did your hair today," he points to the half up-half down style you've thrown together. a dark blue ribbon holds the hair in place—satoru had said it matched nicely with your uniform. suguru's eyes gleam as he appraises it. "it's nice. it looks really pretty on you."
something in your chest feels like it fell off a cliff.
"oh—" you stumble, before smiling at him because that's all you can do when he makes you feel like this. "thanks suguru."
"do mine like that," he says quickly.
once again, you blink owlishly and all you can manage is a stupid "huh?"
"do my hair like that," he repeats, getting up from the chair to sit at your feet, back towards you. he crosses his legs and puts his hands in his lap, patiently waiting.
"you can't do it yourself?" you tease, scooting closer to the edge of the bed.
"i can," he replies and you can hear the easy smile in his voice. "but i want you to do it for me."
"okay then!" you laugh before gently parting sections of his hair out. and then you work in silence, putting more effort into his hair than you've ever done with your own.
iv. fragility
"lady riko does not have any relations. when she was young, her family was involved in an accident…since then, i've been her caretaker. so please let her at least spend time with her fr—" 
"—so that makes you her family then." 
suguru's words seem to stun kuroi, the weight of riko's situation finally making itself clear as her face crumbles. 
"…yes." 
you listen to the way her voice wobbles, and try to suppress the poisonous lump forming in your throat. 
"then we do everything we can to make her happy," you say solemnly, leaving no room for argument. suguru seems to agree and says nothing—some deeper part of you feels something more than thankful towards him. 
"you're awfully sensitive for a jujustu sorcerer, you know that?" satoru comments offhandedly. you turn to look at him, meeting his piercing gaze over dark rims. 
"maybe," you concur. "is that considered weak?" 
satoru seems to ponder his answer, before shrugging, a light smile on his face. "to some people, maybe." 
you manage to smile back, and he takes in the expression with an odd look on his face. "say what you want, satoru. but you agree with me, don't you?" 
he looks away, eyes gazing out to the distance where you know riko is currently in class with her friends, trying to live the life she wants, and something in them softens considerably. 
"we'll do things the way she wants us to." 
it's one sentence, said without a smile or laugh, but hearing it fall from satoru's lips makes you beam at him. 
that's just your kindness, isn't it, satoru?
your heart leaps when you notice the tips of his ears tinge with rouge. 
v. longing
riko's hand is warm against the coolness of your fingers. your body feels hyperaware of your surroundings, toes deep in hot sand and salty air sticking to your skin. for some odd reason, you can't seem to relax. unconsciously, you tighten your grip around the young girl's palm. she glances up at you, but when you look down at her, she's wearing the biggest smile you've ever seen. 
satoru's presence makes itself known behind you—his shadow looms over yours in the sand. "it'll be fine," he says.
you can't see his face, nor can you see suguru who stands at his side, but your shoulders drop slightly, and you find yourself smiling back at riko. 
"i'm getting in the water!" she squeals eagerly, before dragging a helpless kuroi with her. satoru laughs—a clear, pristine sound—and follows after her. you watch the three of them with a fond smile, something akin to content settling deep within you.  
"and what are you planning on doing?" suguru asks. you turn to look at him, watching the way his heavy eyes stay focused on you. 
"hmm," you quirk a brow mischievously. "build sandcastles with me?" 
suguru blinks owlishly before he breaks out into a good-natured laugh. 
"deal." he walks closer to the water's edge, where the sand is damper, and crouches down. he turns to look at you over his shoulder. "don't make me do all the work, hotshot." 
you stand there, taking him in—really taking him in. he's just as clear as the sky behind him, and the sun shining on his face makes his smile glow. you want him to continue smiling at you like that well into the future. the waves crash onto the shore, as though the ocean is chasing his radiance, and an overwhelming feeling of unfiltered affection swells in your chest. 
your feet carry you forward, and you think that they might always lead you back to him. 
the sun rises as time passes, and occasionally you spare a glance at satoru and riko, who are screaming as they splash water at one another. and then you catch a glimpse of kuroi, who stands with her feet in the water, a soft smile on her face. 
and in that moment, nothing can be ruined. 
"what's wrong?" suguru's voice calls out, and you tear your gaze away from the others to look back at him. he stands behind you with two strawberry ice cream cones in his hands. 
"nothing," you hum, a serene smile on your face. "everything's perfect."
his eyes trace your face, stopping to linger on your smile, and they soften. "it is, isn't it?" 
he turns to the ocean, watching satoru and riko, and his eyes sparkle. "i hope it stays like this always." 
"me too." 
he bends down to take his place at your side before he hands you a cone. you take it from him. suguru's eyes drift away from you to look down at his castle. 
"i think it looks great," he expresses, before taking a lick of his ice cream. 
you roll your eyes with a huff. "yeah, because you made it look so nice. you're unnecessarily good at this, suguru." 
he laughs, waving his hand dismissively. "no no, we did it together! and yours is nice too!" 
"maybe," you grin, looking at his castle. "but yours is extra pretty." 
he smiles back, before pointing at a small hole in his sand tower. "see this room? it's yours." 
"mine?" you chuckle.
"yeah, all yours," he hums softly. "this is my castle and you get your own room." 
"oh? and why's that?" 
suguru's gaze lingers on you, and his dark eyes soften considerably. "because you'll always have a place in my home." 
you stare at him, speechless—something hammers away at the inner crevices of your chest. 
"and this one—" he points to another hole a few inches away from the first. "—is my room." 
"well in that case, that room is mine too!" you declare.
"what?" he barks out a laugh. "how does that work?" 
"well…" you grin at him, the sun burning into your cheeks. "because my home is wherever you are!" 
suguru's cheeky smile fades and his eyes widen. he looks at you, mouth agape, and you're about to say something else before sticky coolness trickles down your wrist. 
"ack!" you hurry to wipe away the strawberry ice cream dripping down your skin and you completely miss the red that creeps up his neck and seeps into his ears. 
vi. ice bath
shoko's fingers are unbelievably soft. you're grateful that you were unconscious through most of her procedures on your battered body—you don't think you would've handled the pain too well. she's quiet as she works over the large wound that now covers almost half of your torso. the man with the scar on his lip had done quite the number on you, and you don't think you'll ever forget the searing ache of his blade slicing through your flesh. he had left you in a bloodied pile, isolated, and you hadn't seen what had happened to suguru after the man shot riko. you could only lay there, vision swimming as a bitter taste filled your mouth—a reminder of the life you failed to protect.
the pain had been the only thing you could focus on, until satoru was on his knees at your side and tightly gripping your shoulders. your hazy focus was drawn to his lips as he spewed curses and insults at you. 
"why didn't you run away, you little shit," he had shouted, a feral look in his eyes. there was something different about him—a change in his very being that you could see even in the throes of death. "shoko's coming, do you hear me? for fuck's sake, keep your eyes open, hotshot!" 
you swore you saw his eyes shine behind that look of uncontrolled anger. he had been talking a mile a minute and your focus had waned until you could only see his lips move, no sound reaching your ears.
you've never thought satoru looked more godly than he did at that moment.
suguru eventually found his way into your field of vision—knelt at satoru's side. his large hand had squeezed your limp fingers in a death grip. he was sweating, and his eyes were darting back and forth between your pale face and bloodied torso, something akin to guilt swimming in them. you wished that you had the strength in you to squeeze his hand in return. the last thing you remember seeing is his dark hair falling in front of his face as he turned to shout at whoever was approaching.
now you're awake. disoriented and bleary, but awake, and all you can look at is the way shoko's bangs fall over her furrowed brows. she's taken care of the bleeding, and now all that's left is a dull throbbing, reminding you of how close you had toed the line with death. you don't know this yet, but the scar will remain for the rest of your life, and that dull throbbing will be a permanent reminder of your narrow escape. 
shoko hasn't said a word since she noticed your eyelids flutter open. you want to ask her so many things. important things that cannot wait: 
where's satoru? how about suguru? i saw them both. satoru's alive, right? and suguru, too? the man—with the scar. where did he go? he said that satoru—riko….where is riko? and—and kuroi…i—i..couldn't save riko. when did you get here, shoko? and why am i the only one who's being taken care of by you? 
you want to ask her. but she's making a very odd expression as her hands ghost over your body. you've never seen it before, this odd quirking of her lips. her teeth sink into the bottom one, and she chews and bites and nibbles like it's some kind of nervous tell. 
"shoko?" 
it's all you can manage to say—all you dare. your voice is dry, shaky, and sounds almost foreign to your ears. you're going to ask more, at least one of those thousand questions you had asked in your head earlier, but you don't get to because she speaks before you. 
"shut up," she spits, and the wobble in her voice has you pinching your lips shut and feeling closer to death than you did before. 
vii. acid rain
the sound of clapping is deafening. you don't think you've ever heard a sound so horrid in your life before, and you feel as though your ears are bleeding heavily. you can faintly make out the conversation between satoru and suguru, your ears struggling to pick out the tones of their voices. 
"no…" you hear suguru say quietly. "it doesn't matter if I'm fine…"
you can feel satoru's eyes roam over your motionless body, watching the way you gaze out into the crowd impassively. 
"let's get out of here, guys."
your feet carry you numbly, and you aren't aware of anything except the way riko's arm is swinging in front of you lifelessly. there are no mirrors around—no way of catching the track of tears cutting over your cheeks. the places where the salt touches burn like acid. you say nothing. 
satoru's gaze feels intrusive. he doesn't need to ask you anything—he just knows. it's like your body is radiating the emotions tumbling around in your gut. 
you're awfully sensitive for a jujutsu sorcerer, you know that?
"do you want to…kill them all?" 
the question stuns you, and for the first time, you can shake yourself out of your daze to look at satoru directly. blood is smeared over the left side of his face, cerulean eyes dimmed, as though something had pulled the shine out of them. red seeps into the fine hairs of his restless eyebrows. 
"right now, i probably wouldn't even feel anything," he continues, staring at you listlessly.
you think satoru might be feeling just as numb as you are. you don't know what happened to him yet. the last you had heard, gojo satoru had been killed by the man with the scar. he had boasted about it to you before he attempted to kill you too. but then satoru was at your side again, completely alive as he ran your battered body to shoko like a crazed man. 
you'll find out later who the man with the scar on his lip was, and what kind of legacy he had left behind. but for right now, all you see is a teenager with the weight of the world on his shoulders, and you know your answer.
satoru could help the pain go away; he'd be able to make the clapping stop—maybe then your ears wouldn't bleed anymore. but you couldn't ask that of him. 
"forget it. it's pointless," suguru mutters, and you're glad he's on the same page as you. not because any of these people deserve pity, but because satoru deserves a break—one less burden for him to carry. 
you hear suguru say more, but you can't focus. you continue to listen to the sound of the clapping, and once again lose yourself as you stare at riko's bloodied fingertips. 
"pointless, huh?" satoru mumbles in response to suguru's answer. "does there need to be a reason?" 
"of course. it's important," suguru's voice doesn't carry the same pleasant tone it always does. instead, it sounds strained, and tired beyond belief. unsure. "especially as jujutsu sorcerers." 
satoru doesn't respond, but you know that he's measuring the weight of his friend's words. that's how it was with the two of them. they both balance each other out—their moral compasses influenced by one another. but then you feel satoru look up from riko's body and turn to you. suguru follows suit, and before you can wonder why, it hits you: satoru had asked you both. 
you suck a deep breath in, feeling unusually breathless. the flesh of your stomach tingles with a painful reminder of what might've been, and you make up your mind. 
"killing them won't change anything," you say, breaking your silence. the tears on your cheeks have dried, but they leave a rigid trail in their wake—a trail that still stings. "let's just leave it at that." 
viii. fever dreams
satoru lies next to you. 
a few nights have passed since riko's death, and you've chosen to stay holed up in your room. you're not sure why—death has always played a big role in your life. you don't understand why it's different this time. 
tonight is different as well. while you've maintained a distance from everyone since that day, save for classes and passing by people on school grounds, today you've decided to let someone in. satoru's the lucky one, mostly because he would've pestered you until you opened your door for him anyway. 
it's strange though. he had knocked over and over, and when you finally opened up with a snappy jab at his annoying personality, he had brushed straight past you and laid across your bed. he hadn't said a word since then, and you've found yourself lying next to him in silence for quite a while. 
his hand stretches out in the darkness and you can feel his fingertips brush over the skin of your arm. it's delicate, like he's testing his limits, but you understand. it's just to ground himself—to know that you're still here, with him. to be sure that you're still alive.
you think the scar that goes down your body bothers him a lot more than it bothers you. 
"'m here," you mumble sleepily. your fingers reach up to bump against his knuckles, and you hear him inhale deeply. his voice is throaty when he replies. 
"i know." 
ix. doubt
satoru learns that you've never been kissed before and he teases you for it.
not in a mean way, but in a way that has your cheeks heating and your eyes avoiding his. suddenly it feels like the gap between ages 16 and 17 is huge. he's barely even a year older than you and you're in the same year, but it feels as though he knows so much more about the world than you do. you want to ask suguru if it's bad that you've never had a kiss, but you don't. suguru rarely talks these days. sometimes he'll have conversations with you but won't look in your eyes when he speaks. 
"hey listen, hotshot. if you don't get a kiss by…" satoru hums, an eager smile on his face as he swings an arm around your shoulders and contemplates his words. "…let's say 27, then i'll give one to you!" 
there's an odd note of glee in his voice. 
"shut up, toru," you groan, heat flooding your cheeks. "quit joking around." 
he laughs loudly, pulling your cheek teasingly. "aw, i'm just playing. it's not a bad thing i promise!" 
your shoulders relax slightly as the snowy-haired sorcerer continues to speak. 
"i just thought that you would've kissed someone by now," he shrugs. "wasn't there that one guy you went on a few dates with? the one you met when we went to yokohama?" 
there's an almost sour expression on his face as he speaks, but you're too frustrated to care. "just because i went on a couple of dates with him doesn't mean i kissed him!"
a broad teasing smile appears on satoru's face. "is that so?" 
"ugh, i'm only 16!" you hiss, shoving him away from you. "besides i'm saving it for someone special!"
"good," you hear suguru speak up, and you turn to look at him. his fingers are interlocked, elbows resting on his knees, and he's staring down at his hands like they hold the answers to some deep questions he has. "it is something irreplaceable after all." 
x. shadow
satoru's grin is proud as he stands before the three of you, his loose shirt billowing in the summer breeze.
you stare at him, heart thumping as shoko lets out a confused gasp. "huh? what the hell was that?"
"did it automatically choose the target for your technique?" suguru asks.
"yep!" satoru stresses the word, spinning the pencil suguru had thrown as he explains. "though i am the target. i've pretty much automated what i used to have to do manually."
your head is spinning.
"now i can tell an object's danger levels based the strength of its cursed energy, its speed, mass, velocity, shape—whatever. i want to be able to discern poisons too but that's pretty hard right now." satoru's voice is even when he explains, though you can make out the hints of pride that permeate his tones. you think his voice has gotten a little deeper too. "basically this is gonna allow me to keep my limitless technique active all the time!"
"that's gonna fry your brain!" shoko interjects, shaking her hair out of her eyes.
"yeah but i can do it while i continuously generate energy on my own. that way my brain stays fresh."
you can't help but let out an amused scoff. "what brain?"
satoru chucks the eraser at you, and you laugh as it bounces off your shoulder harmlessly.
"i've been working on shortening my hand signals so i can activate red and blue simultaneously." he continues, lips twitching upward as he gives you an exaggerated glare. "after this the only things i need to work on are domain expansion and long-distance teleportation. which i should be able to do if we set up some training courses here at school."
you think if someone examined you closely, they would see the stars in your eyes when you look at satoru.
"shoko~" he calls out, grinning eagerly. "think you could get me some lab rats?"
shoko groans as satoru bounds over to pester her more emphatically. you watch him, thinking you've never seen a person quite so magnificent.
god personified into a 17-year-old body. and yet it is a body that stays so close to you—well within your reach. maybe there's nothing so godly about that at all.
"don't you get tired of getting stronger and stronger, jeez?" you complain, crossing your arms as you raise a brow at him. satoru wets his lips as he throws you a smug smile.
"don't worry hotshot, you'll catch up to me someday!" he gives you an exaggerated wink over the frames of his glasses, and you shake your head somewhat fondly.
"no way! i never want to be at your level," you huff. "i'm very comfortable living in your shadow, thank you very much!"
a strange look passes over his face, almost puzzled, but the dip in his brows melts away as he approaches you. "well—" he slings an arm over your shoulder. "if my shadow makes you happy then you're more than welcome to stay there."
you don't have time to reply. pale lashes flutter at you—a backdrop of cerulean. you think white and blue may be the prettiest combination of colors in the world.
"suguru?" satoru's voice is casual, yet the amusement has dropped from it. his arm is heavy around your shoulders. "have you lost weight? are you okay?"
you look up, seeing tired eyes behind dark stands of hair. suguru's cheekbones are prominent, and you have the sudden urge to reach out and trace your fingers over them.
his lips twitch upward weakly. "it's just the summer heat…"
his lavender eyes drift to your face as he says it, and he tilts his head as he scrutinizes your worried expression. "…i'll be fine."
xi. hellfire
you hear suguru before you see him.
his breaths come loud as he pushes the door to the morgue open, the metal clanging heavily. his eyes bore into your back, taking in your clenched fists and raised shoulders that seem to tremble.
you wonder who told suguru you'd be here. maybe nanami, who was here not long ago, and had sent you a text that merely said: the mission went badly.
or maybe it was satoru, who had been chatting with you near the entrance of campus when he saw the myriad of emotions pass over your face as you read the text. he had probably called suguru as soon as you left.
it doesn't matter—you can't bring yourself to care.
you can only think about the way haibara had smiled at you before he left that morning.
now that smile is covered by a dirty white sheet, and you can't tear your eyes away from it. the taste of blood and vomit is heavy on your tongue.
suguru says your name quietly. you can't even look at him—you're scared that you'll cry if you do.
you don't ever want to cry in front of him. or satoru—so weak in front of those who are so strong.
"he asked if i wanted to go with them and i said no because i was lazy," you hiss, teeth clenched as you spit out the words with venom. "if i had just stopped thinking about myself for a second—"
your fingers dig into the flesh of your palms—deep, deep, deeper.
you hear suguru click his tongue, and his hands wrap around yours. he yanks your fingers apart fiercely, thumbs smoothing over the bloodied indents you've made in your own skin. you tear your eyes away from the body to finally look at him.
"don't—" his breath catches as his thumbs still over your flesh, eyes going hard as he takes in the blood.
he blurs in and out of focus. his head whips up when he hears you sniffle, and his lips slant ruefully. "you—"
"i'm fine," you interrupt, blinking pointedly and taking a deep breath. "it's fine—i mean it's not fine—but i c—"
"stop." suguru grabs your shoulders, giving you an even stare. you don't know how you didn't notice it before, but he looks thinner, older. there are dark circles under his eyes—poison seeping into his skin. "you need to rest."
you stare back at him silently, but you don't feel like you agree. something about this is making you feel restless, like there is so much you need to make up for. his grip tightens, before he's wordlessly leading you to take a seat—he finds his place next to you.
"satoru took over the mission." he stares at the lifeless body on the table as he speaks. you lower your gaze.
"and nanami?" your throat feels like it's closing. suguru inhales deeply.
"he went back to the dorms."
"okay."
you try to figure out if there is any meaning in having this conversation. despite everything, weren't you expected to wake up tomorrow morning and head out on a mission once more? and when you return, you're sure that there'll be another faceless body taking haibara's place.
the cycle continues—clockwork. it scares you, just how replaceable you are.
haibara, nanami, you, another, nameless—interchangeable.
not like satoru. not like suguru. not like the strong.
you lean your head against suguru's shoulder, fingering the hem of your uniform skirt. the fabric is cool to the touch—it seems darker, heavier. heat radiates from the body next to you, and there's something about him that's making your stomach churn with nerves. "suguru?"
his voice sounds far away. "hm?"
"are you okay?"
he stiffens and you suddenly fear you've said too much—nosy, intruding, out of place. you stumble. "it's just, we haven't talked much lately."
"i'm fine," he answers, and you can hear a smile in his voice—whether it's real or fake you can't tell. "just a little tired."
you know there is truth to this. but it scares you, how this tiredness of his has lingered for months. you don't know how to tell him that.
"okay…" your voice is barely a whisper, heavy with unspoken words that you don't know how to formulate. somehow you find that silence has always been your only option.
but like usual, silence with suguru has never once been uncomfortable.
haibara's smile burns behind your eyelids.
"it should be a relatively simple mission. if you're not doing anything today senpai, would you like to come with us?"
his voice tickles your ears.
"that's alright! i'll get going then! oh right, today's mission is a little farther than usual, so we'll probably be back late! what would you like me to bring back for you?" 
hypoxia crushes your lungs, your blood burns. selfish selfish selfish. you've only ever cared about yourself.
suguru's arm curls around your shoulder before you even realize you're crying. his palm is warm as it smooths over your hair, and all you can worry about tainting him with your ridiculous tears.
you don't ever want to burden him—just want to quietly live in his shadow.
"i don't—" you internally cringe at the throaty rasp of your voice, swiping a hand at your nose. "i shouldn't be so sensitive about—"
"it's not your fault." he quietly hushes you, grip tightening imperceptibly. through your tears you can see him adam's apple bob, and for some reason that makes you feel worse. you're too scared to look at his expression, even though his voice is resolute. "none of this is our fault."
something has changed in the way he speaks now. something has settled, a confirmation of some idea that has been brewing for a long time now.
you don't say another word, but somehow he manages to sear himself into your very being. he's warm, and fuzzy, and he smells like sandalwood and incense. 
you don't know how long suguru let's you pathetically sob into his shoulder.
but you think you're embarrassed that he has taken pity on a wounded animal's cries.
xii. split
he looks different, but also the same. you've seen him wear that sweater before. it's plain black, no patterns, and you know that there's a loose string on the inside of the left sleeve that he was always too lazy to cut. you've always liked that sweater—always liked the way he looked in it. 
you liked it so much that you've even stolen it a few times yourself. 
but now it looks different. older and dirtier—as though soiled by some unknown curse. 
that's what everything came down to, right? curses. 
suguru stands in front of you, almost no trace of emotion on his handsome face, and his expression makes you want to turn and run. you miss the calm serenity that normally graced his features, wishing that you had some kind of cursed technique that could turn back time. but you aren't blessed like that—you wonder what sin you might've committed in a past life that made you so unlucky in this one. 
"you look confused," he comments. you reel at how casually he speaks to you, like it's just another afternoon sitting under that stupid tree. like he's leaning his head back against the trunk and watching you and satoru bicker with that fond look in his eye. 
"suguru," you speak, an odd strain in your voice. you struggle to comprehend this odd turn of events. you've had time to understand that he's now a different person than the one you once knew. you know that he's responsible for killing 112 innocents, including his own parents. you know that he's now an enemy to jujutsu society and you know that you should kill him right at this moment.
but he looks so much like suguru, like your suguru, that you can only manage to stand there, frozen in place. his eyes drift over your body, taking in your pajamas, the bath towel in your hands, and the small drops that trickle from your hair, and you can see the familiarity settle in his expression. 
"why are you here?" you choke out. you feel an overwhelming sense of danger in your gut, knowing that your family is just a few rooms over from where he stands now. 
"at your family home, you mean?" he asks casually. a small, almost amused smirk appears on his face. "you said i was always welcome." 
you did say that. sometime last year or the year before, when you had invited satoru, suguru, and shoko over to visit during one of your quick holidays. suguru had sat across from you at your dinner table. he complimented the food and your father smiled one of his rare smiles. you had chewed quietly to hide your grin.
you don't know what to say to him now. 
"everything they said about you," you whisper, taking a step toward him. he remains rooted in place, but his eyes follow your movements. they shift when he catches your fingers gripping your towel tighter. "is it true?" 
"do you think it is?" he asks, and you gulp. it feels like he's baiting you into some kind of trap. 
"i don't want to believe that it is," you answer, voice shaking. "that you would ever do something so…"
the sentence hangs in the air, and he tilts his head imperceptibly. something in his eyes changes as he focuses on the drops falling over your shoulders. 
"well i'm sorry to squash your hope," he raises his arms in a shrug. "but everything you heard is completely true." 
your head aches, but you're not surprised by his confirmation. "why would you…?"
suguru hums, a dark look falling over his face. "do you remember the conversation we had after haibara's funeral? do you remember what i told you when he died?" 
anger flares in your gut at the mention of haibara, and the bath towel crumples in your hold. "don't say his name," you hiss through gritted teeth. "don't act like he's the reason—just…don't bring him into this. please." 
suguru licks his lips, eyes going soft before he tries again. 
"everything used to make sense back then," he sighs. "back when the strong existed to protect the weak. but it's not true." 
"suguru—" 
"the reason why we suffer is because of them," he interjects evenly, though frustration is clearly evident in the curve of his brows and the volume of his voice. "we clean up their messes. they create problems and we die for it." 
you're stunned into silence, at the way he's raising his voice at you, at the way he's speaking so firmly about this horrible topic, at everything. he seems to realize the effect of his speech, and he quells his anger to speak quieter. "that's why i'm doing this. i'm going to create a world without non-sorcerers, so that sorcerers like you and i can live peacefully." 
a lump forms in your throat because god, he's right. he's so right. your life would be a thousand times better without curses. non-sorcerers were the reason curses existed. but the way he's going about this…
"suguru," your voice shakes, but you press on. "i get it. i really do—" 
"i know you do," he interrupts. "you always have. even back then…" 
he takes a step closer to you, reaching out to finger the towel in your hands. "but you don't agree with the way i'm doing it, right?" 
you bite your lip, and he smiles at the sadness in your expression. "you're so easy to read, hotshot." 
you ignore the way the nickname stings. "i just—how could you kill innocent people like that? your own parents, suguru."
he looks away from you, steely resolve in his eyes. "if i made exceptions for my parents, that would kinda make me a hypocrite, wouldn't it?"  
you don't know what to say to that. he doesn't seem to have anything else to add either. 
he looks around your old bedroom, eyes sparkling as they catch a picture of the four of you from your first year. satoru's arm is slung around shoko. the dark-haired female has her elbow resting on your shoulder, her tongue sticking out playfully. you're clinging to suguru's arm, and satoru's free hand is squishing your cheeks together. the four of you are laughing. 
nobody has laughed in a while now. 
you tear your gaze away from the picture frame to look at him. he's so unbelievably close, and he's gazing down at you with this foreign look in his eyes, the picture forgotten behind him. 
he slips his fingers into your hair. his palm is large enough that it can brush the side of your face, and you wonder why your body doesn't flinch away from those bloodstained hands.
"it's okay," he mumbles, a faraway look in his eyes. they remain trained on your hair, but it feels like he's looking straight through you. like you're nothing more than a ghost he wants to erase. he's so close—you can count his dark lashes as they brush against his cheeks. "it's difficult. i don't expect you to understand." 
his words incite a sudden flare of anger in your gut. it burns something fierce, and in that moment you hate him. 
"no, i don't," you reply indignantly. he pauses, now really looking at you, and his brows quirk upward in what seems to be surprise, because—well, he's never seen you make such an expression at him before. "you never tried to help me understand. you just left." 
a strained silence follows. his fingers twitch against your cheek.
"this doesn't concern you," he says finally. "i don't need you to understand my actions." 
you recoil, as though he's physically hurt you, and your expression falls so hard that it almost makes him regret saying it. almost. 
"if it doesn't concern me, then why are you here?" you ask again, and you see suguru's shoulders drop. "you know that i have orders to kill you. i might not be able to because you've always been stronger than me. but you know that i'll…" 
go down fighting you, is what you want to say, but the words leave a nasty taste in your mouth. but suguru seems to know what you're implying because a wry smile appears on his lips. his fingers twirl a strand of your wet hair. 
"i'm here to say goodbye," he says finally. another tense silence fills the space between you both, and suguru can see the way your fingers shake between the folds of your towel. 
"you're a little bit late for that, aren't you?" you choke out, a strange tilt to your voice as you break eye contact with him. "you left school weeks ago, and you didn't say a word to me then." 
"better late than never, right?" 
the softness in his tone makes you turn to look at him again, and you desperately want to ingrain the features of his face into your head. the gentle slope of his eyes and sweetness of his smile. he almost looks like the suguru you once knew, and you suddenly have the urge to mourn his death. 
his face becomes blurry, the edges becoming less pronounced, and you can see the way his expression falls. 
"i didn't come all the way here to make you cry." his hand drops from your face and he takes a step back. your fingers hurry to wipe at your waterline, and you shake your head. 
"'m not crying." 
suguru smiles ruefully, and his eyes suddenly look devoid of life. he takes another step back—your heart plummets.
he says your name once, quietly, and it hangs in the air as you wait for him to say more. 
he doesn't. 
"you know that I'm not supposed to let you leave alive, right?" you mumble, fingers toying with the towel in your hand. "but i can't—i mean—"
"hm," he chuckles. "still as sensitive as ever, huh? s'okay…" 
he moves toward you again and his hand gently cups the back of your neck. "i think it's your best quality. makes you better than most people in our world."
he presses his lips to your forehead tenderly, and you feel your eyes widen behind your tears. 
you probably could've stopped him, because you're aware that he's now suddenly behind you, and that he's raising his hand. you can stop him, but a part of you thinks that if it's death at suguru's hands, maybe it's not such a bad way to go. 
you accept your fate then and there. 
you'll find out later that suguru never had the intention to kill you then. perhaps he was waiting for a more opportune time, waiting for there to be a meaning behind it. you're not sure. but when you wake up tucked in your bed cozily, you'll feel the remnants of him lingering around you.
he was warm, and fuzzy, and he smelled like sandalwood and incense.
xiii. sanctify
satoru's at your door again. 
you've memorized his knock patterns. he always knocks three times, then leaves a pause, then twice more. for someone so erratic, he can be quite predictable. 
"what's up, satoru?" you call out, not looking up from your busy hands. there are a couple of empty cardboard boxes open on your bed, and you've been placing things into them all morning. things that should've been put away a long time ago. you pause on one of your old test papers, and in suguru's dark, blocky handwriting you read: 
YOU GOTTA STUDY MORE DUMBASS.
underneath it, satoru had scrawled: 
hotshot failing class now huh? :P
and shoko had added: 
both of you stfu you're failing too 
you had drawn a heart next to her name. 
"whatcha doin'?" a familiar voice chirps. "spring cleaning?"
satoru stands directly behind you, peering over your shoulder. you can practically feel his aura shift when he notices the items you're putting away. 
"cleaning of some sort," you sigh, before turning to look over your shoulder. "i've been…putting it off." 
he doesn't move—just continues to stare down at the paper in your hands. you think maybe you shouldn't have let him in. sometimes you forget that satoru might have his own sensitivities—you've always viewed him as the strongest.
a few strands of his hair tickle your cheek, and you scrunch your nose in response. he then turns to you, eyes blinding as he studies you over the frames of his shades. 
"want help?" 
"please." you don't intend to sound so needy, but the way you whisper the word has him immediately grabbing your wrist and sitting you down next to him on the bed. 
"how are we sorting this stuff?" he asks, his voice oddly calm. he hasn't let go of your arm yet, and some quiet part of you is grateful. 
"i was putting our old school stuff in that box. books, papers…" you answer softly, and satoru nods in understanding. "and in the other box…" 
you inhale deeply through your nose. satoru waits, strangely patient. you're not sure if you're imagining it, but you think he squeezes your wrist. 
"…are all of suguru's things." 
there's a moment of silence—a quick mourning for what is no longer there. 
"it's stupid stuff that he left behind, you know?" you chuckle, even though nothing is funny. "some old shirts from when you two would sleep over, his old textbooks, a few pictures from our holidays—shit like that." 
satoru hums. he's not looking at you—instead he's staring at the box, a frown on his face. 
"i guess he didn't really need those things for where he was going. or for wherever he is now," you mumble. 
"guess not." 
you're not sure what's going through his head. satoru's reaction to suguru leaving had been chaotic at best. it was so hard to tell how he felt about it. you knew he was angry, confused, betrayed. but he never showed things like that. you think it might have to do with being the strongest. you're not sure though—you never were strong like him.
you wish there was a way to tell him that he could share his feelings with you, but you can't think of a way that won't be awkward. 
a ticklish sensation crawls up your wrist and you look down to watch satoru's first two fingers tap against the inside of your palm. his thumb brushes against yours as he lets out a heavy exhale. 
"let's get started then, hotshot." 
he looks down at you as he says the words, and you think you might cry. but you want to be strong, like him, so you offer him a smile. he gives you one in return. you realize there isn't that much warmth in it, not like it used to have—you're sure that yours isn't that warm either. 
but it's enough for the two of you. 
"you look tired, toru," you chuckle wryly, reaching up to brush a few strands of hair from his face. his eyes flutter at the touch, and you honestly think this might be the most vulnerable you've ever seen him. 
"so do you." 
"i am," you admit honestly. 
"'s okay," he mumbles. his fingers tap against your palm once more. "'m here." 
"i know," you answer. you always are.
nothing more is said as satoru stands up. he makes his way over to your desk and pulls one of suguru's old sweaters from your chair. you watch him fold it neatly, smoothing out the creases with care, before placing it into the box—you smile once more. 
you think the scent of sandalwood tickles your nose, but it's gone in an instant.  
both of you work in relative silence, sorting through the things in your room quickly. you're surprised at how bare it looks as you're nearing the end, as though there's nothing more to your life than old high school recollections. 
you finish putting the last few polaroids into the box when satoru speaks up. 
"hey." 
you look up and find him staring at you, so you turn to face him completely, giving him your full attention. 
"zenin toji—" the name sends a painful tingle up your body. "—left something behind." 
you frown. "what are you talking about?" 
"a kid. he's got a kid. and i was gonna go meet him today," satoru shrugs. you try to read his emotions, but as usual, he's giving you nothing. "the old man said something about the zenin clan buying up his kid before i killed him. i was gonna go see if there's something i could do about that." 
you sigh before raising a brow, an amused lilt to your voice. "and why have you kept this a secret?" 
satoru's trademark smirk appears, and he walks over to sling an arm around your shoulders. "who knows?" he quips nonchalantly. "guess i was waiting until we were bored. we need something to do now, don't we?" 
you glance at the packed boxes on your bed, and then look around your empty room. everything is always changing, but satoru is constant. 
"i guess so," you grin. his eyes shine, and for a second you see a familiar teenager at the beach, and then a familiar teenager under an old tree. you think you hear waves, and the crinkling of a bag of chips. 
"good," he chirps, walking you to the door, the arm around your shoulder secure. "his name's megumi, and we're gonna make sure he gets strong."
xiv. idyll
it takes you a little over four months to get used to megumi's eyes. they aren't unsettling or invading, like a certain snowy haired sorcerer, but they do give you chills when you first notice them. chills and a fleeting feeling of metal slicing up and down through your flesh. you just have to steady your breathing and remind yourself that the son is not the father.
tsumiki is an angel. you didn't think that kids that age could be so emotionally competent, but she's a pleasant surprise. she had been awfully protective over megumi, fidgeting with a firm hand on his shoulder as you and satoru invaded their space and upturned their lives. even after they had settled into the humble apartment satoru had purchased, tsumiki was still so overly cautious. it was obvious she still didn't trust either of you, but you thought it was admirable of her, and you relay this thought to satoru one day.
"think they hate us?" he asks, squishing his cheeks between his lithe fingers as he eyes the different milk cartons over the rims of his glasses.
"i'm pretty sure they just don't trust us that much," you reply, placing a few packs of instant ramen into the cart. "can you blame them? we're just random strangers who came up and basically kidnapped them."
"i'd like to say adopted!" he points out with a grin, before he sighs. "but we've already proved we're just doing this to help them. but they still barely talk at all."
"they're just being careful. megumi's still a little young and he looks like he doesn't give a shit about most stuff anyway," you chuckle as you remember the expression on the first grader's face as he spoke to your cocky friend. "and tsumiki's being cautious for both of them."
"she doesn't need to be cautious of us!" satoru dramatically whines, pulling out a carton of whole milk and placing it into the cart. you shiver as the cold air hits your skin, eyeing the sorcerer with an exasperated smile. he shuts the door with a huff. "i've been such a good dad!"
you roll your eyes, shoving his arm as he starts pushing the cart down the aisle. "she definitely should be cautious of you, you creep."
satoru looks down over his shoulder, appalled, though his eyes sparkle with mirth. "and why do you say that?"
"have you seen yourself? crazy 19 year old man that kidnaps kids," you mutter somewhat sarcastically, falling into step with him like it's normal. satoru grins at that—amused.
"i think it's pretty cool of her to be that responsible though," you continue, voice going softer as you think about them, and satoru hums in what you think might be agreement. you suddenly grab his arm, stopping him in his tracks and he turns to look at you.
"you think we should get another carton of milk?" you question, tilting your head at him. "megumi's been drinking it every day after he comes back from school and tsumiki said she wanted to try making milkshakes."
satoru blinks at you, eyes widening before an amused chuckle escapes his lips. you're about to ask what is so funny but he gestures back down the aisle. "go get some."
he waits for you as you go grab another carton, leaning against the cart easily. when you make it back and place the extra milk in the cart, satoru slings an arm around your shoulders. you raise a brow, but he just continues to push the cart with his free hand and says nothing.
so you don't say anything either.
the two of you continue shopping, trying to remember the things you've noticed the kids enjoying because you know they'll be too uncomfortable to outrightly request them. for every sweet snack satoru puts into the cart, you add something that can pass as somewhat healthy, and he hides a teasing grin behind his fist each time.
when you're almost done, satoru motions to the shelves of snacks, raising a brow at you. "what do you need, hotshot?"
you look up from where you're analyzing the contents of the cart. "hm? oh i don't wanna buy anything for myself. i'm good with the stuff i have back at the dorm."
"great," he shrugs with a subtle shake of his head. "except you're not buying anything this time, i am. so pick something."
"what?" you frown, walking over to him. "we're supposed to split groceries for the kids."
"we can split next time." satoru rolls his eyes at you, as though annoyed by your insistence. "i just got paid yesterday and i wanna waste money. pick something."
you groan. "but there really isn't anything i want. if you're gonna pay yourself then let's just go. i think this is good enough."
satoru looks unamused, his eyes boring into yours—bright, dominating, mesmerizing. "oh really? nothing you want?"
you stare at him in confusion as he walks over to the frozen section and opens the door. after a few seconds of rummaging, he pulls out a box. "not even this?"
your shoulders drop. he's holding a tub of strawberry ice cream.
he casually places it into the cart, eyes trained on your expression as he bends down. "it's your favorite, isn't it?"
your voice comes out throaty, and you wet your lips nervously—his eyes follow the movement at lightning speed. "how'd you know?"
satoru scoffs out a haughty chuckle, reaching up to knock a knuckle at your forehead—it's cold. "i know everything about you, hotshot."
he moves to grip at the cart's handle, standing close enough that you can feel the energy radiating off of him. the side of his hand touches yours, still cold. "now we can go."
he sticks by your side, pushing the cart towards the counters as he casually looks around the store. you briefly realize that his shadow doesn't cover you when you're at his side like this. the thought both scares you and pleases you in a way you didn't think was possible.
"thanks toru," you mumble before you can stop yourself. his gives you a sidelong glance—assessing.
his lips twitch. "it's just ice cream."
"no, it's a lot more than that." you're not really sure why you say it so tragically, and satoru inhales sharply. you notice that his knuckles have turned white as he grips the cart's handles. once again, his eyes dart rapidly over your face—between your eyes and then further down.
then he lets out a hushed laugh, nudging your shoulder with his. "as long as you share with me, hotshot."
everything is always changing, but satoru is constant.
you can't help but smile. "always."
you two don't say much as you head to the counter, taking turns placing all the items on the belt. you quietly watch satoru dig into his wallet, feeling oddly content doing so. you think the stars in your eyes will never disappear.
the clerk eyes you both, and suppresses a fond grin. with your close proximity, shared cart, and satoru's easy going smile, you realize that she's probably misunderstanding, but you don't really know how to correct her. satoru says nothing—he just continues smiling, oddly pleased.
he smiles all the way to the car. you catch yourself doing the same in the rear view mirror.
xv. retribution
the first thing you notice when you kneel in front of suguru is that he's bleeding all over the place. you have the strongest urge to scramble and grip his fingers tightly, just as he had done for you so many years ago—but you don't dare. you're too scared that touching him will ruin you completely.
he says your name quietly, and yet it's the loudest thing in the universe to you—crashing over your ears until you've lost all sense of self.
and then he leans forward, his gaze heavy, and his hand comes up to tangle in your hair. his palm rests on the side of your face just like it did when he visited you at your family home. the last time you saw your geto suguru.
except this time he moves further—crosses a line. presses his lips to yours.
he tastes like blood. you don't pull away.
the feeling of his lips shocks you though, and you stay permanently frozen in place as you feel your eyes glaze over with something you can't put into words.
suguru kisses you slowly, deeply, like he's been waiting but wants to savor it. maybe you've been waiting too. you're not sure. you're so confused.
you don't even process the way his tongue slips past your lips, tasting almost eagerly like your mouth is some kind of conquest he's trying to claim.
it's intrusive, but not unwelcome. slow, but not gentle.
you whimper quietly, feeling acid sting down your cheek as he pulls away and his eyes flutter open. he takes in your expression, and a million emotions pass over his face.
a quiet chuckle. "that bad, huh?"
you shake yourself out of it and try to push away the flush creeping up your neck. "w-what?"
"you're crying," he announces, his furrowed eyebrows paired with a sweet smile that makes him look so unbelievably tragic. "the kiss was that bad?"
your face burns, and you raise a shaking hand up to your cheek—it's wet.
"it wasn't—i didn't—" you struggle. "i mean—"
he smiles ruefully. "i'm sorry. you were saving it for someone special, right?"
there's a charged silence that follows as you scour your brain for the conversation he's referencing. when you find it, your heart sinks.
"you've always been special to me, suguru." your voice comes out quiet, but he hears it all the same. his eyes widen fractionally and you can see a light pink dust his cheeks before he laughs. it's soft, hushed, and looks like it's painful, but he lets it run its course.
it reminds you of a laugh from so long ago, at a beach, with childish screams echoing against the sound of waves. you think you can feel strawberry ice cream dripping down your wrist.
his laughs die down and he's left smiling softly at you. his lavender eyes sparkle with mirth as he tilts his head. "i'm glad. that you were the one i gave a room to."
you can hear waves in your ears, crashing crashing drowning. sand is in your hands, in between your toes, in your eyes.
he coughs, and his palm shakes against your cheek. you wonder why he doesn't just let go already dammit suguru.
you inhale sharply, trying so hard to breathe because what is that stupid thing that's clogging your throat and preventing you from speaking? there's so much you have to say to him. so many questions. so many things left unsaid. your words are failing you.
but silence with suguru has never once been uncomfortable, right?
you raise a shaky hand to press against his where it lays against your neck. "do you regret it?"
he licks his lips, smiling faintly, as though he's enjoying the new taste of you on them. "no."
"why not?" you whisper. your body unconsciously shuffles closer to him, chasing his warmth because gods is he warm. he's always been so warm, even now, in the throes of death.
"my feelings are still the same. i still hate the monkeys for everything they've done, all the crap they cause." he shuts his eyes, smiling that serene smile. you wish he was leaning against a tree trunk. "i still have no resentment to those at jujutsu tech. and you, i still…"
he doesn't continue. you don't think you want him to. there's a flush crawling up his neck, the faint pink a stark contrast to the red of blood. it makes you nauseous.
another deep inhale, and his thumb slides over your jawbone, before brushing under your bottom lip. he stares at the flesh heavily, letting his finger press into it. his tongue swipes over his own lips, eyes darkening further.
and then something shifts in his face, and he smiles mirthlessly. his hand drops from your face—broken contact.
he doesn't tear his gaze away from you, committing your face to memory. it's almost like he wants to say something, but decides against it at the last minute as he slumps further into the wall behind him and shuts his eyes.
when he speaks again, you know that it is all over.
"you're late, satoru."
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2K notes · View notes
a-hazbin-reader · 3 months
Note
OK ANOTHER IDEA
OK SO WE KNOW THAT ALASTOR IS A MAMAS BOY AND HAS AN AMAZING RELATIONSHIP WITH HER
SO WHAT IF ALASTOR HAD A FEM S/O BUT SHE HAS A TERRIBLE RELATIONSHIP WITH HER MOM, ITS JUST SO EMOTIONALLY TOXIC (especially with reader being an older sibling)
reader never tells him though because alastors relationship with his mom is good and she doesn’t wanna make him feel bad whenever he talks about her and one day readers mom comes to the hotel and reader DREADS it and becomes snappy but readers mom wins everyone over (of course alastor too). So when reader explains that she doesn’t want her mom around alastor can’t understand why and reader feels betrayed its only later when readers mom shows her true colors towards reader. And reader of course bites back (or at least tries too)
So basically angst to fluff and SORRY IF THATS SO MUCH😭😭
👀 Mommy issues??? 👀
Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
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TW: Emotionally Abusive mother, Reader suffering, Reader gets grabbed a few times, Ambiguous ending for mama
Description: ☝️⬆️
When it comes to mothers, it's safe to say you and Alastor had very different experiences
His mother was full of warmth and kindness towards him, doing her best to build him up into a great man
She loved him greatly and it shows whenever he talks about her
But your mother?? Your mother saw you as fucking competition and always found ways to put you down, to make herself better than you
Well maybe she should be the one who was cooking the meals, getting your younger siblings off to school on time or making sure everyone had clean clothes
Just the thought of her made your stomach flip and your legs shake
She would put you down all your life while claiming it was so that you could be a great woman just like her, but not too great, you have to remember who the better woman is
Well now you're both in hell so-
You put as much distance between her and yourself as you could, living your afterlife without her influence
You even got yourself a handsome powerful overlord boyfriend and new friends to share your life with
Even though you're supposed to be in hell, you couldn't be happier
At least you were until your mother showed up at the hotel, her face full of faux worry and tears
"Oh my precious girl! This is where you've been hiding? I was so worried!!"
Before Charlie can even shut the door, your mother has already shoved her way inside and literally dug her claws into you, hugging you
It's all you can do not to throw up, smothered by her familiar scent and grip, hearing her voice again after all this time
"Now let Mommy take a look at you-oh!!! And here I was worried that you were starving! Good to know you've put some weight on those bones!"
And it's already starting-
And now she's crying and rocking you in her arms, cooing about how much she's missed you and how she's never letting you go again
Charlie and the others are just staring at the two of you, completely enraptured by your mother, like everyone always is
She loved being the center of attention
When you finally come to your senses you push her away and create some distance, disturbed by the worried looks everyone is giving her
"Mom, why are you here?"
Oh don't everyone look at you like you're the bad guy!! She's the one who's only here because she wants something!!
"Maybe I wouldn't have to come track you down if you would just visit your poor mother every once in a while...she never even calls me, you know!"
And now she's crying again, Charlie immediately going to comfort her while Vaggie gives you a dirty look
Fucking mommy issues much? Don't fall for this crap
"I don't want to visit you, so just leave-"
"Well now, who is this~?"
Alastor! Yes! He can make her leave! You turn to give your boyfriend a pleading look but your mother catches his attention first
"Oh don't worry about who I am.. just a poor lonely mother who came to see her daughter...but I guess I'll show myself out.."
Alastor doesn't have to guess who she's talking about, even in death you always looked like your mother
His smile gets surprisingly warm and soft, taking your mother's hand in his own in a disgusting display of affection that used to only be for you
"You're Y/N's mother? My my, I should've guessed! You must have so many stories of her from her life! I simply must insist that you say."
ALASTOR NO
You feel sick but nobody notices, your mother already soaking up their attention and winning their hearts
So you turn and leave the hotel, unable to stand being in her presence any longer, you don't miss the smug look she gives you on your way out
You spend all day trying to avoid going back to the hotel until you're sure your mother is gone
You're more than disappointed to find her drinking tea with Alastor, the two of them laughing, her placing her hand on top of his
She always used to try and go after your boyfriends and that hasn't changed either
She hasn't changed
"Oh darling~! We hadn't realized you left! Alastor and I were simply having a moment~"
Alastor lights up when he sees you, only to be visibly confused by your troubled expression
"Y/N! Your mother was just telling me about her life before you! She was quite a wildcard back then!"
Your mother is practically drooling over him, rubbing his hand and winking
"I'm still wild if you ever care to find out!"
You've had it
You tug your mother's hand off of Alastor, forcing her to stand up and look you in the eyes
"You need to leave! Right now!"
And here come the waterworks again
"Y/N..! Darling, what did I do wrong? I'm your mother please don't throw me out like this!"
You just start pushing her towards the door and you slam it shut behind her, sighing in relief
That is until you look at Alastor's face, his smile seeming strained
"Y/N! You can't just throw her out like that, not only is that bad manners but that's no way to treat the woman who raised you!"
Raised you? You raised yourself!!
"Alastor, you don't know what you're talking about so please just stay out of it. You don't know what she's like-"
You're trying to stay calm-
"She's your mother, it's not like she's some evil creature-"
"SHE'S IN HELL OF COURSE SHE'S EVIL-"
"So are you and I, my dear."
You try to put your foot down, tell him that you don't want her here but he's already opening the door for her and letting her back in
She looks so pleased with herself
He invites her to stay the night because of course he does, he would do it for his own mother so why not yours
You try not to give her the satisfaction of seeing you cry but your eyes are already hot and watery
"I-I'm going to bed..!"
Alastor calls for you, trying to resolve things then and there but the only response he gets is your door slamming shut
He goes to go after you but your mother stops him with a gentle hand to the shoulder
"Now now...let her cool off for a bit then I'll go make sure she's alright, a mother always knows how to cheer up her child~"
It feels like you spend hours crying in your bed, feeling so hurt that Alastor took her side over yours
Your mom isn't like his, she doesn't nurture, she just takes from you and bullies you
Later, just when you've about cried yourself to sleep, you hear the bedroom door open
"Alastor..?"
"Not a chance, pet."
Now what does she want
"Why are you even here?"
Suddenly she pounces on you, grabbing your wrists tightly, eyes wild with fury she must've been containing this whole time
You don't even know why she's so mad at you, you haven't seen her in years-
"You think you're better than me now, is that it? Now that you're on your own, living in some fancy hotel, got some powerful boytoy, hiding behind hell's princess?"
As a kid, she seemed so strong but now you easily rip out of her grasp and manage to create some distance between you two
"I'm not hiding behind anyone! I'm just trying to get away from you!"
"Oh no no no, that's not how this works! I am your mother! If I have to be miserable and live in filth then so do you!"
"Why are you even here!?"
"Because it's not fair! I deserve to be here! Not some ungrateful little bitch who just happened to fall out of me!"
She lunges at you and you try to dodge her but she manages to grab you by your hair, yanking you back
You're about to start swinging when Alastor is suddenly there, watching the two of you in bewilderment
Then that bewilderment melts away into understanding, then anger
The radio sounds in the room are suddenly deafening, your mother letting go of you so she can cover her ears
You take the chance to kick her away, watching as she tumbles and loses consciousness from the impact
Alastor kneels beside you but you flinch away from him, still feeling hurt
"Y/N...I'm so sorry..." He does look properly ashamed, his smile a little watery
"Why didn't you just tell me that she was like this..?"
How could you even begin to start?? That you didn't want to somehow sour his opinion of mothers by telling him about your own?
That you didn't want him to feel guilty for having a mother who loved him while you grew up having to be a mother to your siblings because your own mom had none to give??
It's just word vomit at this point, but Alastor simply gathers you into his arms, tutting as he checks your scalp and fixes your hair
When he gets to your wrists where your mother grabbed than his smile turns positively venomous, giving your mother a deadly look
"What do you want me to do with her? Anything you ask..."
You're a little irritated that he brought her up, having been too relaxed by the feeling of his lips against your palm
"I just want her out of here..."
And that's all it takes, Alastor calls for Niffty and has her take out the trash, her scuttling out gleefully while dragging your mother
Niffty doesn't even care, she's just happy to have a new toy
You didn't realize how stressed out you were until it was just the two of you, Alastor rubbing your back soothingly
You don't know when you fall asleep but when you wake up Alastor is kissing the side of your face, looking as apologetic as he can be
You manage to convince him to apologize in morning snuggles and by the time you two come downstairs everyone else is awake
"Where is Y/N's mom?"
Not Niffty giggling and running out of the room
Alastor simply shakes his head and wraps an arm around your waist to hold you closer
"She is gone and won't ever be visiting again, I would like to ask that nobody brings her up again~"
Something about the way he says it manages to shut everyone up
Alastor takes you out to eat your favorite breakfast and spends the day spoiling you
He doesn't bring up the events of last night until the two of you are in bed, entangled in each other's arms
"You didn't ruin my opinion of mothers, you know."
"I didn't?"
"No, in fact, it sounds like you were quite the mother back in your day~"
Not his hand rubbing your belly
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OH MAMA THIS ONE TOOK ALL DAY! I hope you liked it!!
2K notes · View notes
luveline · 10 months
Note
I am so incredibly sick rn and desperately craving some Hotch comfort—maybe bau!gf who desperately tries to hide the fact that she’s sick even when she’s burning up and can’t keep her eyes open, and Hotch who just wants to take care of her!!
thank you for your request! i hope you feel better soon. —hotch fights to take care of you when you hide a fever. fem!reader, 1.4k
Spencer knows you're sick, but he's the only one who's figured it out so far. Everybody else is too busy. 
He pushes your coffee toward him and exchanges it for a cup of water without saying anything. You're relieved to find it's ice cold, fighting to drink it without spilling it, or worse, pressing it to your furnace of a forehead. 
"Just go home," he says. 
"I like it here," you say lightly.
"You're fatigued, obviously running a fever, and probably disoriented if your eyes are anything to go off of." 
"Are they?" you ask, eyes fluttering closed. 
You prop yourself on your hand. Having a desk right next to Spencer has its ups and downs. Ups including physics magic, surprise trinkets, and all the donuts you can eat. Downs include this —he's too good at his job but bad at taking a hint, so while he's realised that you're sick and tired and should probably head home, he hasn't stopped to think you might be keeping it a secret for a reason. 
If you take more sick leave already after your week long bout of food poisoning only a fortnight ago, it will look like you're trying to take advantage of Hotch. You don't want the team thinking you're cheating and you don't want Hotch to think this is how it’s going to be. You’d never use him like that, but it’s so early into the relationship that there’s no way for him to know that for sure. 
You take a measured breath. You're the kind of sick that yearns for bed, head heavy, a pounding pain behind your eyebrows and a nose you can't breathe through. Your lips are chapped despite the thick layer of balm you applied that morning. The weight of a bowling ball rests in your sinuses. Your head begins to list forward. 
"Y/N?" 
You look up, rubbing your forehead as nonchalantly as you can manage. Hotch stands with a hand on the railing of his half-platform, eyebrows pulled together as they tend to be. 
You like the sound of your name on his lips, even if it's said with question. 
"Yeah?" you ask. 
Before, it would've been, Yes, sir? But Hotch told you (while in boyfriend mode, assumedly) that it makes him hot around the collar (though he'd said it more delicately), so now you save it for special occasions, like when you want to get your way, and when he looks especially perturbed.
"Something wrong?" he asks. 
He can't like the way you say, "I'm fine," maybe he spots the far-away look in your eyes, your poorly concealed wince as your head throbs, maybe he just knows you. He gives you a look bordering reproachful and turns away. 
"My office," he says.  
Spencer sends you a pointed look. When he realises you aren't awake enough to glare back, he nudges you encouragingly. "Be honest," Spencer says. 
You almost fall up the short steps to the landing in front of Hotch's office. You don't knock before entering, and later you'll realise how odd this is. Hotch hasn't even sat down, instead straightening a paper from the wrong side of the desk. 
"What's wrong? Another migraine?" he asks. 
"No. I'm alright, did you want something?" 
He turns around fully. You like seeing him after hours without his suit, arms behind his tired neck and eyes half-lidded, but this look is just as good on him: furrowed brows, a hand twitching toward you but not touching. He tries not to cross the line here at work because when it starts it never ends. Your evaluations have to be cross examined and approved by a higher up, you are not permitted to room together on cases, and you have to report to HR every three to six weeks to reaffirm that Hotch isn't being coercive. It's odd and invasive at times, but these are things you have to do to be together. You'd do worse. 
"Did I want something?" he asks. It's more patient than incredulous, but the incredulity is definitely there. 
"From me?" 
"I want lots of things from you." He breaks eye contact with you and turns back to his things, shuffling papers into a manila folder. You blink dozily, wanting a hug and needing him to let you go back to your desk lest you give in and lean against his broad chest. "Like for you to take care of yourself." 
"I'm fine." 
"Forgive me if this is something I shouldn't say, but you don't look okay. You look sick." 
You summon your most convincing smile even while his back is turned and enthuse your tone with some practised pep. "Well, it's not the most romantic thing in the world." 
He ties the cord on his manilla envelope and clicks open his briefcase. It's a testament to how sick you are that you didn't notice it there, nor his coat thrown over the edge of the desk. 
"You going somewhere?" you ask curiously. 
"I'm taking you home, honey." 
You shake your head. "No, you're not. I'm fine." 
Hotch puts his coat on regardless. Briefcase closed and in hand, he walks the short distance to you and scans your expression for any give. "Let's go home." 
"Hotch–" 
"Home," he says, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "No more 'Hotch'." 
You take a step back but not one more than that, startled by his readiness to leave, and his reluctance to believe you. You're a bad actor and he's trained in the art of untangling deception —it isn't going to work. You give it a valiant effort. 
"You don't have the resources to give me the day off. You definitely don't have the resources to take a day off with me, and that's fine because I'm not sick." You rub your face clean, dust off your work blouse. "I have a headache, it's not so bad." 
Hotch actually smiles, then. You worked for him for three months before you realised he could. It isn't what you're expecting. It disarms you.
"Liar," he says, ducking down to give you a kiss. He sounds amused and sorry at once, an impossible combination marked by his small smile and his protective hand at your elbow. 
Every kiss is like a shock. Not because Hotch is particularly abrasive to the senses, the opposite —it feels right. 
"I'm not lying," you say.
"Take the day off with me, then." 
He knows he's being a bit of a bastard, evidenced by his smile, but he sobers for your sake. "You're lying to me, but that's not what matters. I can feel your head like a flame and I'm not even touching it. And you've kept your secret well, honey, but Reid's a good friend." 
"What did he tell you?" you murmur. 
"You fell asleep for sixteen seconds." 
"When?" you ask in disbelief.
"A couple of minutes before I called for you." Hotch squeezes your arm. 
"If we go home you'll have so much work to do when we come back," you lament. 
"It'll be the same as any other day," he says. He's slipped into his most dulcet tone, the kind he uses with family. "I am… desperate, to take care of you. I can't do that here. Please oblige me and let me do it at home." 
"Oblige you?" you ask. 
"Being your boyfriend isn't working. I thought I would try boss instead." 
You relent, finally. You genuinely can't abstain from him anymore, not when he's being as ridiculously charming and gentle as he is, his hand steadying at your elbow. Plus, your brain is probably gonna explode inside of your skull any second now if your headache is anything to go by. You drop your face into his chest and sigh, relieved when his hand moves to your shoulder, and his cheek presses to the top of your head. 
"This is inappropriate," you mumble. 
"You're really not well, hm?" he asks, just as quietly. "I'd be negligent if I didn't take notice. Doubly negligent if I didn't take you home." 
"Human resources…" You mean to say more. He's solid, he wants to hug you, and he smells like his expensive cologne. Hotch has a presence about him that's automatically comforting once you overcome the intimidating. Sometimes, even, the intimidating helps it along. You feel sheltered by his arms. Totally safe. It's probably why you nearly pass out in his embrace right there and then. 
"Okay," he says, rubbing your back. "Alright. I'll let human resources know your complaint, honey, don't worry. Let's get you to the car." 
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r3ynah · 4 months
Text
Extended Family
DCxDP
An Au where, Maddie is Damian and Danyal, Biological mother besides Talia, Basically Talia and Maddie(+Jack) both grew up in LOA and were very best friends(lovers?? at some point including Jack). Talia wanted a natural birth for her son, as she was not really fond of the idea of a test tube baby. so she asked Maddie a favour to become a surrogate. which Maddie happily accepted. because of her experience with Jazz and Danyal's birth, Talia was sure Maddie can give birth to her son safely.
This was approved by Ra's Because he deemed Maddie as someone that could be trusted due to her becoming one of the most strongest and smart assassins in the LOA(He was fond of her, like really really fond.) So he accepted his daughter proposal for Maddie to become the surrogate.
And then Damian was born, Jazz and Danny basically loved Damian and would not go anywhere but the baby's side. Jack loved taking care of Damian due to Maddie and Talia not knowing how to take care of a baby with physical affection.(basically house husband behavior,).
As the kids grew they become closer through the years until you know, it wasn't safe for them in the LOA anymore so they helped Damian escape first to his Bio dad's place(They did let him pick though, if he wanted to stay with the fenton-nightangles or go to Bruce, he chose the latter because if something happened to them he'll have connections.) and then Maddie and Jack escaped with their children in a random town named Amity park. which turns out was a hotspot for Lazarus pits or Ectoplasm. (They decided to change the name cause everytime Jack hears the word pits he started laughing).
The children of course never severed their communication throughout the years. And Bruce never asked about his life at the LOA so he never introduced his half siblings.
Damian hated his older brother, Danyal with all his might. if you asked him to choose between his Half-sister Jazz or Danyal. He'll choose Jazz in a heartbeat.
He hated him, because of his foolishness and absolute neglect of his surroundings, making him a easy prey amongst people who wants to take advantage of him. He disliked Danyal's poor choices in life especially now.
The youngest wayne stood in the middle of one of the many hallways of his highschool as he stared at a certain, black haired and blue eyed girl, who was waving at him ecstatically, he contemplated if he should fight the girl head on or just run and escape.
Obviously in this situation he would pick the most desirable option to make sure his day wasn't ruined by his older brother, so he picked the latter. Damian dashed through the hallways, making sure to lose the girl before the third period started. He slowed down as he looked warily at his surroundings his back against the storage room incase he needed a hiding place from that test tube spawn.
When suddenly a pair of arms phased through the door embracing Damian as he tried to escape.
The girl giggled as she kept her hold on the older boy who tried to get her off him. "Hi uncle Damian!"
she greeted as she finally let go making space for the boy to take a step back.
"Danielle. Why are you here, Did Danyal send you to pester me?" He glared at his niece, as he kept his guard up.
"Kind of, mama sent me here to check up on you." She explained "You kinda went MIA when you stopped answering his texts and calls."
"This is absurd, I can take care of myself. him thinking something happened to me for not answering his calls is offending, I am not like him." Damian stated as he finally lowered his guard. And started to walk away expecting for Elle to follow to which she did.
"Eh.. You know him, His just paranoid he always is" Elle exclaimed as she looked at her schedule. "What's your next class Uncle?"
"Math."
"Ooh Yey! We're classmates, let's sit together!"
A groan left Damian as Elle chuckled and continued to look at her class schedule beside him, Peaceful quietness welcomed the two as they walked to their shared class.
——
"Do you have a apartment nearby?" Damian asked as he stood up from his table waiting for Elle as she packed her notebooks, only filled with doodles from both party.
"Nope, Mama requested that we move here for easier transport but i didn't wanna bother with all the moving stuff." Elle explained as she finished tidying up. "Beside I can just fly back and forth, what's the use of my powers if I can't abuse em."
"Your logic is as worse as Danyal." Damian exclaimed as they both headed out the door. "Follow along. you'll be staying at my manor this week."
"Why?" Elle asked suspiciously
"Because, It is a tiring job to use your flight ability for something so stupid." The boy explained.
"Is that really all?"
"Ofcourse not, As your uncle it's my job to keep you energized and unbothered, But as your mother's brother its my duty to annoy him for thinking i was in danger. so I'm basically taking you hostage at the manor." Damian grinned, as he took his niece's hand to make sure she doesn't get lost through the maze of hallways
"So basically kidnapping? I'm in."
——
"Master Damian, welcome home." Alfred greeted as he opened the front door. "And who might you be?"
"Hello Alfred, This is Danielle your Great-granddaughter." Damian said, making Alfred raise his eyebrows slightly before returning to his relaxed state.
"Well, nice to meet you Lady Danielle" Alfred greeted with a smile, as he shook her hand.
"Please call me Elle, Alfred" Elle brightly smiled
"Very well then Lady Elle." Alfred chuckled.
"Is father home yet?" Damian asked
"No not yet master Damian, you two may go to the living room as I prepare the guest room for Lady Elle." Alfred exclaimed as he headed to the kitchen to finish what he was doing.
Elle looked at Damian, Damian looked at Elle.
"I can feel my phone vibrating from my bag." She laughed. Her mother Danny was certainly going to be sad that his little brother kidnapped his daughter for a Uncle and niece Hangout.
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