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#this is not canon compliant but it made me laugh
awearywritersworld · 5 months
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i was benevolent and good; misery made me a fiend
sukuna x reader summary: you persuade sukuna to play go fish. the two of you have a small disagreement (he really can't stay mad at you). he confides in you about his past as a sorcerer. w/c: 3.4k tags/warnings: the teeniest bit of angst. mostly fluff. banter. cursing. aged up!yuuji. slight yuuji x reader. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. no manga spoilers. a/n: the first section could be read as a brief(ish) stand alone. and for context, the world's shortest frankenstein synopsis: victor frankenstein brings a creature to life using dead body parts and thrusts him into a world he doesn't understand, then promptly abandons him and wishes him dead. alone and regarded as repulsive by every human he comes across, the creature begs frankenstein to create a wife for him too. when frankenstein refuses, the creature is further driven to hatred and violence. series masterlist // masterlist
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"we should play a card game!" you exclaim as if you've just had the world's greatest idea.
"i'll pass."
sukuna sounds listless, like it's quite possibly the worst proposition he's ever heard.
"why's that? scared i'll beat you?"
"i'm opposed to mind numbing boredom, more like."
"you really need to expand your horizons," you suggest, making your way over to where you keep your playing cards. "all you do is read and brood."
"it's gotten me this far."
you don't respond, too busy rifling through your bookshelf. just as you spot your cards, a book catches your eye and you pull it from its place.
making your way back over to him, you drop it in his lap. "since you found jane eyre so insufferable, here's one you might actually like."
he surveys the cover, which reads: frankenstein or the modern prometheus
you take a seat across from him at the kotatsu table and shuffle the deck, while sukuna flips through the pages with new found intrigue.
"what's it about?"
"the dangers of playing god. should be right up your alley."
"your subtly never ceases to amaze."
"i'm just kidding." you laugh. "there's a lot more to it than that— revenge, loneliness, personal responsibility..."
he turns the book over. "it's written by a woman?"
you raise your eyebrows at him. "what, you don't think women have enough depth to write about those kinds of topics?"
"no, it was just an observation," he says off handedly. "you are evidence enough to the contrary."
he doesn't say it as a compliment, more so as a statement of fact. you hope your astonishment isn't written all over your face.
clearing your throat, you begin dealing while explaining the rules to him.
he takes up his cards and seems to understand the game after only a turn or two, but you're narrowing your eyes at him soon thereafter.
"go fish," he says for the fourth time in a row.
your gaze shifts down to his hands. there's just no way. "show me your cards."
"wouldn't that defeat the purpose of this stupid game?"
"not if you're cheating, now let me see."
"no."
you reach across the table, hoping to snatch them from his grasp, but he just holds them out of your reach.
swiftly rising to your feet, you launch yourself at him in a sad attempt to catch him off guard.
with only one arm extended, he easily fends off your attack. "do you actually think you have a chance here?"
you sink to your knees in defeat and sit with your legs folded beneath you. "not really, but i have to know if you'd stoop this low."
"that so? had you believed me to be above cheating?"
you gasp. "so you admit it?"
"i told you i didn't want to play," he deadpans.
"that doesn't mean you had to cheat! now we have to start over!"
he carelessly tosses the cards onto the table. "i don't think so."
"please?" you lean forward, jutting out your bottom lip.
he just stares at you with an air of disinterest.
sukuna can be so haughty sometimes, and frankly, it drives you a little crazy. you'd give anything to wipe that look from his face— to prove that he doesn't find this as miserable as he lets on.
leaning forward even further, your hands meet with the carpet to support your shifting weight. now he's watching intently as your face approaches his, your eyes flicking down to his lips.
unbeknownst to you, sukuna's breath catches in his throat once he sees your gaze shift, though his mind struggles to catch up. it happens so fast that he hardly registers the quick peck you place on his lips (though maybe it's not the speed of the occurrence, so much as his shock).
"please?" you repeat.
he looks off to the side and stays silent, though his demeanor is indicative of some heated internal debate.
sukuna can't let you win, not that easily. you'd be under the impression that you actually have power over him! and for what? some measly kiss?
no, he simply will not allow that. "i already told you—"
grabbing him by the chin, you cut off his words with another kiss, but this time it lasts a few beats longer. your lips don't move against his, they just linger there in a way that that makes him question whether all of the oxygen has vanished from the room.
when you pull away, you're looking at him expectantly with the same pout still playing on your lips.
"fine!" he barks, grumbling something afterwards that sounds a lot like "evil little minx."
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"human earthworm two is definitely still the best."
you're walking home with yuuji after a late night showing of the newest movie in the series.
"no way," you contend. "this one was even better."
he gawks at you. "in no world is the seventh film in an anthology the best! you're crazy—"
sukuna's mouth appears, always eager for a chance to undermine his vessel. "she's right, brat."
yuuji can't believe his ears. "what?! you haven't even seen it!"
"i don't know," you interject slyly. "i'm willing to look past that. it really seems like he knows what he's talking about."
"you mean the guy who's existence predates cinema?" yuuji asks, his eyebrows furrowing as a thought occurs to him. "what'd you do all day anyway? watch plays?"
"..among other things, yes." sukuna answers.
"if you look at it logically," you reason, "we probably wouldn't have movies without theater, so we should definitely consider him an expert in this case."
"oh please, baby. when the topic is ancient civilization or being a homicidal maniac, i'll be sure to solicit his opinion then."
"i resent that," sukuna declares, his conviction forcing a giggle from your lips.
"why?" you question. "was it the part where he called you old as shit, or the part where he called you a murderous lunatic?"
yuuji brings a hand to his mouth to stifle a snort, but you're freely laughing now.
sukuna scoffs indignantly and bites back a comment about how partial you seem to be toward said lunatic. "and to think i defended your opinion."
his response has you clutching at your sides and struggling to see through teary eyes.
but perhaps karma is real, because not a moment later, you step off the curb in a way that sends a sharp sensation through your leg.
you gasp in pain and brace yourself for the impact of falling to the concrete, but it never comes. instead, you're left with fingers clamped tightly around your wrist and a strange sense of deja vu.
you turn your head just before the dark lines fade from yuuji's arm completely.
"tch, watch where you're going idiot," sukuna scolds, his mouth disappearing as soon as he finishes speaking.
"are you okay?" yuuji asks worriedly.
"absolutely," you claim, but when you try to put weight on your left foot, you let out a hiss.
yuuji's hands find your waist, hoping to keep you steady. before you know it, he's crouching in front of you with his back turned and beckoning you to wrap your arms around his neck.
once you do, he hooks his arms under your thighs and easily stands up. "this okay? you comfy?"
"yeah. i can't believe i just did that." you hide your face in the space where his neck meets his shoulder. "thanks, yu."
when you get home, yuuji sets you up on the couch with icepacks, heating pads, three different drinks, two different books, and the tv remote.
he still asks if you have everything you need several times, then kisses you sweetly before heading to bed.
around thirty minutes later, sukuna's leaning in the doorway with his arms crossed.
"hey," you greet. your eyes never leave the tv, as you're privy to the slight tension between the both of you.
he skips the evening's pleasantries. "i could heal it, you know."
you finally turn to face him. "really?"
"of course." he rolls his eyes. "some of us can actually use reverse cursed technique."
"and you've just let me hobble around the past hour anyway?"
he shrugs. "you pissed me off."
you blink at him a few times, rubbing at your temples. "well what about now?"
"i don't know," he begins, making his way over to you. he towers over where you're seated on the couch, so you have to crane your neck to look up at him. "just doesn't really seem like something a homicidal maniac would do, but maybe if he were to receive an apology..."
you cover your face with your hands and groan. "i didn't say that. this is really something you should take up with yuuji—"
"i don't make a habit of conversing with the brat, so if that's the way you're going to be..." he turns on his heel and starts for the bedroom, but you grab onto his sleeve just before he's out of reach.
"wait. please don't go."
just like that, your words have his resolve crumbling and any of his lingering irritation ebbs away. he urges himself to stay strong though, especially after the go fish debacle.
when he doesn't speak, you let out a breath.
"i'm sorry, sukuna." he can tell right away that you're being entirely sincere. "i would never purposefully hurt your feelings. i only meant to tease you, but i can see how i was being mean."
are those... are those tears swimming in your eyes? are you in that much pain, or did he just make you feel that badly? in any case, he endeavors to remedy it immediately.
moving around the couch until he's in front of you, sukuna kneels between your legs. he grabs your left foot gingerly, situating it on his thigh before hovering his hand over top of it.
he sighs. "i don't care if you tease me and you weren't being.. mean." the words sounds so juvenile to him.
you weren't necessarily wrong either, goes unsaid.
well, he'd like to consider himself a little more sophisticated than 'maniac' would imply, but that's beside the point.
"then why are you upset with me?"
his jaw flexes as he tries to find the right words. "i would prefer you do that when it's just.. us."
"oh." realization dawns on you, as does another heap of guilt. you know he despises being trapped in yuuji's body, and you completely failed to consider how ganging up on him might make him feel. "i'm... fuck. i'm really sorry, sukuna—"
"stop apologizing," he urges you in a low voice. it's partly because what he just said makes him feel pathetic, but more than that, it's because the look of self reproach you're wearing is akin to a thousand needles in his chest. "it's fine."
he can't believe you're sitting there with so much remorse over a man like him because you... what? wounded his pride?
he probably deserves it anyway.
why should you give a shit when he's done things a thousand times worse, a million different times?
oh, right. because you care about him.
you can't see the cursed energy at play, but you can tell it's working as your pain begins to dissipate.
once he's finished, he carefully moves your foot to the floor and looks up at you. it's not unlike the way a person might gaze at one of the wonders of the world, like they're lucky to be there in the first place.
with the intensity of his gaze, it feels like he can see right into your head— read your every thought and pick apart every emotion. has anyone ever looked at you like that before? you're having a hard time remembering. you're having a hard time thinking of anything at all, really.
so it goes without saying that you don't think about it when you lean forward and kiss him.
it's not at all like when you were trying to convince him to play cards. no, this isn't light hearted or frivolous.
and it's not like the other two kisses you've shared either. it isn't heated or desperate, nor does it leave you gasping for air.
it's tender. it's so fucking tender, in fact, that sukuna wonders whether he's going to crumble beneath your touch.
he grips the area just above your knees, as if needing something to tether himself to before he withers away completely.
his lips move with yours in a way that's slow and careful.
your hands are on either side of his face, ghosting over his skin as a testament to your hesitance— like you're not certain if this is something he would want.
he wonders how in the world you could ever second guess yourself.
when you pull back, you examine his face for a moment before a small, shy smile tugs at your lips and you murmur, "thanks 'kuna."
he just peers at you wordlessly and it makes you nervous, so you attempt to fill the silence. "it feels so much better. a-and i'm sorry again abo—"
his hand finds the back of your neck, pulling your lips against his for a moment longer. "don't mention it, angel."
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ever since you gave sukuna your copy of frankenstein, he's spent a decent portion of your nights together reading, his brows drawn together in concentration.
upon finishing, he stares at the page after taking in the final line: "he was soon borne away by the waves and lost in darkness and distance."
he's deathly quiet and wearing some unreadable expression. his eyes seem far off.
you leave him be for a little while, as it's clear he's lost in thought, but eventually you grow a bit concerned. it's been nearly half an hour since he last moved.
"sukuna?"
he turns to you. "why did you think i would enjoy this particular book?"
you consider his question carefully, his mood evoking your own seriousness. "it's... elegant and tragic. i suppose i appreciate the moral grayness of it. why do you ask?"
"no reason."
"did you enjoy it?"
"yes."
"why?"
he ignores your question. "frankenstein— do you like his character?"
you can't help but feel like you're answering some sort of riddle. "i think he's foolish and arrogant, but i guess i pity him to some degree."
"and the creature?"
"i'm much more sympathetic toward him. he's very... complex and certainly less culpable for the events of the novel than his creator."
you're surprised when he laughs. "of course you would think that way."
and with that, he's flipping through the pages of the novel. you move to sit beside him and once he finds what he's looking for near the middle, he begins reading:
"remember, thou hast made me more powerful than thyself; my height is superior to thine, my joints more supple. but i will not be tempted to set myself in opposition to thee. i am thy creature, and i will be even mild and docile to my natural lord and king if thou wilt also perform thy part, the which thou owest me. oh, frankenstein, be not equitable to every other and trample upon me alone, to whom thy justice, and even thy clemency and affection, is most due. remember that i am thy creature; i ought to be thy adam, but i am rather the fallen angel, whom thou drivest from joy for no misdeed. everywhere i see bliss, from which i alone am irrevocably excluded. i was benevolent and good; misery made me a fiend. make me happy, and i shall again be virtuous.”
his voice is strangely even, almost bordering on robotic. you're struck with the notion that he's attempting (with rare difficulty) to mask his emotions.
you regard him quizzically and wait for him to speak. the last thing you expect to hear tumbles from his lips.
"you know they called me the disgraced one?" you nod. "do you know why?"
"i know the story that sorcerers have passed down."
he hums. leaning back into the couch, he looks fixedly at the ceiling before continuing. "i was just a boy when i was orphaned and no one knew anything about my heritage, including me. jujutsu society took me in and raised me as a sorcerer."
"and you didn't care for it?"
"oh, quite the opposite. i reveled in it. my strength was unprecedented, that much was clear from the start. i surpassed my teachers with ease, and eventually, i took to training alone— reading primitive texts and honing skills that they couldn't teach me."
your hand finds his thigh, hoping to offer him some consolation before beckoning him to continue. "then what happened?"
"the men who had been my teachers, who had been the only.. family i'd ever known.. they scorned me. deemed me reckless and dangerous to jujutsu society. plotted my demise."
your voice is small when you ask, "were they right?"
he wants to hate the question— wants to hate you for asking it— but he knows that it's warranted.
"no. i admit i was forward thinking and a bit.. unorthodox, but i wasn't..."
"what they thought you were?" you offer gently.
he nods. "not until they made me that way— not until they abandoned me and backed me into a corner like some animal."
you struggle to find the right thing to say, if any such thing even exists. you're amazed that he's confiding in you, and while it makes your heart swell, you really don't want to fuck it up.
he looks back down at the book, his eyes scanning the paragraph before repeating, "i was benevolent and good; misery made me a fiend."
he says it as if he's coming to terms with the circumstances of his life for the very first time.
"the creature was remorseful at the end of the novel," you recall somewhat bravely. "are you?"
sukuna thinks for a great deal of time before replying. you wait patiently for him.
"no," he answers decidedly.
looking over at you for the first time since he began his story, he's relieved to find your face is free of rebuke. instead, there's a warm willingness to understand him. a sadness because of the way he was alienated.
he's curious whether anyone would be able to read the sentiment on your face, or if he just knows you better than most.
is that a privilege he's worthy of? he doubts it.
"you didn't deserve what they did to you," you whisper, reaching up to rake your fingers through his hair, nails grazing his scalp before your palm rests against his temple.
his head leans almost imperceptibly into your hand, and any regret or unease he may have felt at relaying his past to you disappears. watching a single tear slip down your cheek, he wipes it away with the pad of his thumb.
he means to say "don't cry. not for me," but the words die in his throat.
for once, your tears are for him rather than because of him and it's utterly riveting. the fact that someone like you would cry on his behalf seems to contradict every horrible thing he's ever been told about himself.
he could sit here and bask in the feeling forever— he's always known himself to be selfish after all. and you know it too, don't you?
his eyes flicker between each of yours, studying your face. "do you want to know why i don't regret the things i've done?"
you tilt your head to the side. "why?"
"because even if it's made me into a monster..."
for a moment, he contemplates not saying anything more. he considers forcing himself to pull away from your touch, even if it's the only comfort he's been given his entire life. he might still be able to salvage whatever tiny, laughable pieces remain of his pride—
"all of my actions have led me to you."
your eyes soften before you're wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your body to his. he returns the gesture after a few seconds pass.
you know he's awful. you know he's cruel. you know that what he's been through doesn't excuse his actions. but still— you want so desperately to take away his pain. to make up for all the things in his past. to wipe the blood from his hands.
as you embrace such an incredibly complicated man (one who is infamous for unrivaled wickedness, yet has his face buried in your hair), you ponder the creature's plea: "make me happy, and i shall again be virtuous."
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a/n 2: if you're still w me, thanks for reading!! i'm not sure how i feel abt this part, so feedback is both welcome and appreciated!! also, how do we like sukuna using angel?? in my head he picked it up from the "my good angel" line in jane eyre, so i hope it doesn't seem too unnatural. alsoooo, highly recommend frankenstein. it's one of my favorite books!! mary shelley popped off and literally created the entire genre of science fiction at 21! anyway, thanks for all the love yall, it means the world<3
taglist: @96jnie @ay0nha @sad-darksoul @bbysatoruuu @luciiferian @risuola @lirasmoon @disaster-rose @archivist-ghoul606 @creative1writings @sloppyzengarden @omismicrowave @cecesharktales @tanyeonn @hiqhkey @ruixrei @yellowsubiesdance @thefallofruins @anything-and-everything-here69 @emzalot @thepup356 @browneyedgirl22 @lantsovheiress // users in bold could not be tagged. if i forgot to tag anyone, my apologies!! just give me a heads up.
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carolmunson · 7 months
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you get me closer to god | kas!eddie (dark)
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entry for my fall frenzy requests. this request comes in from @edsforehead: 'something with kas!eddie in a graveyard.'
a/n: y'all, i don't know. i kind of snapped with this one. sort of canon compliant. inspired by a post that i saw that said that after vampires feed they have an insatiable desire to breed afterwards. steve also makes an appearance cause i love him.
tw: 18+ MDNI, dub-con, dub-con, dub-con (reader does get into it). use of hypnosis, coercion. blood play, blood drinking, biting. very obvious power dynamics at play here. death of minor character mentioned. p in v smut, rough and sensual. oral (f-recieving), monster-type-fucking. mild chasing trope. some religious elements if you squint??? anyway i listened to closer by nine inch nails on a loop for this if you wanna know the general vibe. let me know if there is anything i missed and need to put on here!
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October 31st, 1998
Your niece had a better haul than you ever did at this age, it seemed like every house on the fancy side of Hawkins was giving out full size candy bars. No one ever gave you full size candy bars. The Harrington's had outdone themselves this year, hoards of kids picking out wrapped caramel apples and passing out spiked cider to the parents. Humming and smiling while the adults hugged their parkas to their chests, kids running up and down the stairs of the cul de sac of Hawkins Mansions. Decorated to the nines -- you were happy that most of the street would tire her and all of her friends out. "Auntie!" she calls out, hurrying over to you while her pink and purple puffer coat swishes with her. Alycia glitters against the lights of the houses in the dark of the night, the red sequins on her leotard making her easy to find. Your sister-in-law made her a headband fitted with red horns with a pointed tail sewn into the back of the red tu-tu from her Spring recital to match. A Dancing Devil she called it -- for newly six, she was a pretty creative little bug.
"Auntie look," she yells, running into your legs. The spiked cider sloshes in your cup that you hold high over her head so it doesn't spill onto her. She holds up a decorated caramel apple covered in eyeballs made out of sugar.
"Gross, Leesh," you giggle, "It's got eyeballs all over it!"
"They're fake eyeballs, Auntie," she explains like you're stupid, "They're not real eyeballs."
"Oh, thank you for telling me. I didn't know," you giggle, catching Steve watching the two of you chat. Your cheeks burn, that crush from when you were fourteen and he spent the summer working at the mall never fully fading. He's married with four kids now so you should probably get over it. "How're things?" he asks from the curb, coming over to sneak Alycia a couple of Reese's cups. "They're good," you shake your head with a shrug, "They're fine. Out here with the rugrat while her mom's at work." "How's the family, your mom?" he presses, arms crossing over his broad chest that stretch the sleeves of his tan workwear jacket.
"She's doin' okay," you smile tightly, "Always a little hard for her this time of year."
"Five years now, isn't it?"
"To the day," you say with a lilt, "Gonna go visit him after I drop her with her grandparents. My dad'll be so thrilled to steal half her stash."
Your laugh is a little hollow when he squeezes your shoulder comfortingly, he slips a candy bar into your hand, too before saying his goodbyes -- set of twins running around his ankles.
Hawkin's bravest fireman somehow off duty on a night like this turns before you take your niece's hand to leave, "Be careful out there at night. You know it's not always safe."
"You don't believe in all those rumors, do you Harrington?" you laugh.
"Don't have to believe them or not," he says seriously, pushing his wire rims up his nose, "I know they're not rumors."
"Happy Halloween, Steve," you say dully, "Goodnight." You both wave, Alycia's little hand in yours while she rattles off a million words a minute about the skeloton outside of the Sinclair house. The moon glows down over the street, dark clouds slicing it like a broken plate.
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You rarely visit your brother on the day of, especially since there's always idiot teenagers running around the place. Not exactly easy to mourn when some loser in a Scream mask keeps trying to scare you.
It was quiet, your Docs crunching on mid-fall frosty grass -- some of it already half dead with the season. Commotion from the town in the distance had dulled into mostly nothing now that the kids had turned in for the night. Families turning their porch lights out, settling in for scary movies and sugar highs.
You squeeze the bouquet of baby's breath and eucalyptus a little hard in your hands when you walk through the tombstones. The low lamps along the walk way casting the grass and asphalt in a looming orangey glow -- not offering much light beyond their posts. The moon does the work, still looking shattered amongst the thin gray clouds sliding through the sky.
You hear some giggling, the rustle of leaves, the snap of twigs. Always an outlier of kids doing spells or a Ouija board out here this time of year -- old Chief Hopper coming down to make them scatter and take their weed. You walk off the path when you get a decent way in, crossing away from where the cemetary mostly turns to forest. Four 'Happy Birthday To Yous' into the brush and then a left, two head stones, then a right -- it's the third headstone on the fourth row. No light to shine down on you this time, just whatever's left in the sky. You take your big yellow scarf off from around your neck to lay over the grave, giving yourself a place to sit so your spandex covered thighs didn't have to touch the grass. Your mom would kill you if you got grass stains on the red trench she let you borrow -- a makeshift Carmen Sandiego costume if anyone asked.
You sit, laying the bouquet right at the granite edge, tracing his name before letting your hand drop. You don't say anything for a while, letting the cool wet air run over you in waves. You wonder if the wind blowing is him saying hey.
A few cemetery patrons come by, pay their respects to their loved ones and leave. Some superstitious, some religious. They fade out after a while. The loneliness is comforting, just you and your brother hanging out together like before. Despite being six years apart, it felt like you both always had some weird wonder twin telepathy. He was never really one for a lot of words.
"Didn't that guy tell you not to come around here so late?"
You jump at the sound of an unfamiliar voice, turning around to see an even more unfamiliar person. Wild curly waves messy around his face, cut in 80s shag perfection. His face chiseled, jawline pronounced with soft stubble, soaked in fake blood. It trails down his neck and stains the white of the baseball tee underneath a leather jacket; fitted over top with a battle vest that rivaled the metal heads of the 70s.
"Who're you, huh? You following me?" you ask. You swallow nervously, finding solace in seeing a few other cemetary visitors mosying around. The faint giggle of more mischeif causing teenagers in the distance.
"Sorry," he laughs, a warm laugh that meets his eyes, "Didn't mean to scare you. I um, I saw you over by the cul de sac, overheard him say somethin' to you. I was with my little cousin -- dressed like a mermaid, I don't know if you remember."
You think back to Leesh's pal of trick-or-treaters, scanning them in your head to recall a little girl with big brown eyes and a makeshit Ariel costume on under her jean jacket -- covered in patches much like his.
"Yeah," you smile, "I remember. But that didn't answer my question -- are you following me?"
"Nah," he grins, shaking his head, "I'm visiting someone -- this was just a happy accident."
"Oh," you respond quietly, "Who're you visiting if you don't mind me asking."
"My mom," he shrugs, scrunching his nose, "Halloween was her favorite holiday so I always try to come say hi."
"Oh, I'm sorry," you offer in condolences, "Did you um -- did you grow up here? I feel like I'd remember you."
"Nope," he sighs, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans while his wallet chain jingles next to his thigh, "Grew up with my uncle."
"Oh, nice," you nod, "Well um --"
"Who're you visiting?" he interrupts, sitting on the gravestone next to your brother's; hardware tinkling prettily as he does.
"Pete," you say, hand out to gesture towards the shiny granite in front of you, "My brother."
"Nice to meet you, Pete," he turns his head, curly hair flouncing over his shoulder, "Pleasure."
You laugh, he laughs with you -- you have to laugh about it or else you'd have to deal with the alternative. You're pretty sure you're all cried out about your brother now.
"What happened, if you don't mind me asking?"
"He worked construction," you shrug, "Took an overnight shift five years ago by the quarry, an' it was Halloween so he was workin' by himself -- no one to spot his safety gear. Must've fallen off the rigs or something and since it rained a lot that year the quarry was basically a lake at that point, hit his head and drowned. His body was completely banged up and waterlogged, they could only ID him from his pass in his pocket."
"Shit," he nods, "That's -- that's fuckin' awful. I'm sorry."
You shrug, "Bitch of living, I guess."
"Hm," he nods, "I wouldn't know."
"What do you mean?" you ask with a cocked head, eyes lingering on him while his linger on you. "Don't worry about it," he smirks, the kind that makes your heart flutter; cheeks getting hot at the sound of his voice. "You know something," you start, "With this whole get up -- and you're not from here so you might not know -- you look just like --"
"Eddie Munson?" he asks, with raised brows, "Yeah, my aunt's been telling me that forever. That's why I sorta dressed up like him for Halloween."
"That's dangerous around Hawkins, especially this time of year," you warn him, standing up from your spot and picking up your scarf. You shake it out to get some of the grass of the underside. You hardly notice the way his eyes trail from your shoes over your calves to your thighs.
"Some people say that he went right to hell after that earthquake since he killed that girl," you explain, shrugging the trench off some to fit the scarf on under it, "And now he's a demon that haunts Hawkins and terrorizes the town."
You both laugh, though his drops to a low and guttural hum. Nearly a growl. You lift your head to see him just a foot in front of you now, and you can really look. You can really see him. The paleness in his skin, tendrilled navy veins raising through it as he leans close to you.
At this distance it's clear that the hollowness in his eyes isn't makeup, but the sparkling brown is sunken into his skull. His brows darkened and determined while he looks at you.
At this distance, it's clear that the blood on his jaw is real.
"They're close," he says with a sly smile, "Really should've listened to Harrington, sweetheart."
You swallow hard, icy sweat in a film on your body while he takes a step forward.
"Those rumors are true."
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The icy air shreds your throat as you run, heaving it in and out in gasps. Your calves scream, thighs aching while you sprint through the brush of the forest; trench and scarf long forgotton somehwere amongst the trees. You try to ignore the way twigs and branches swipe at your face, slicing you and scratching you with unforgiving whips. You let out a cry while you speed, leaping over roots and piles of leaves all while trying to listen with peak percision. Is he close? Is he getting closer? Can he see you?
You stop behind a log near a dip in the earth, rocks above it. Climbing in you heave, trying to catch your breath -- you aren't really made for this. You don't know how girls in the movies can run that long without needing a break.
With a deep inhale in, you hold, using the quiet to try and hear him but there is nothing to be heard. No rustling, no creaks in the wood or in the wind.
You catch your breath, slowly creeping out of your hiding space while the darkness hones -- trees blocking out some of the moonlight. You take a step and then another, trying to make as little noise as possible.
Your efforts are of no use though -- you stomach turns at the sound. The flap of wings, leathery wings -- big. A shaky breath in gives you the courage to turn your eyes up. On one of the taller branches above you he sits, pale and domineering, "Hi, sweetheart."
You bolt again, depserate and sobbing while the cold air is no longer a hello from your brother but mother nature's cruel bite on your wet cheeks. You can barely take in breaths without pain in your throat and chest, turning left and right and left again to lose him but from above he can predict your every move.
When you hear silence again you take another turn, a mausoleum broken down a short distance away. You crawl your way in, wet earth and cement hitting your nose while you gasp and heave for the second time. You listen for the wings for moment, a few moments -- a calm washing over your back when you're sure he's gone.
You take a step back further into the darkness to be sure you're unseen. Deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth. One, twice, three times.
Another step back and you bump into a pillar making you jump, a screech wrenching from you.
Not a pillar no, not by the way a set of claw bites into your shoulder.
"Would've been a good hiding spot if it wasn't for me finding it first, right?" he quips, "Bummer." "Y-you can't d-do this," you cry, "The r-rumors are true they'll -- they'll look for me! Steve knows about you!"
"Oh, babe, that's so cute," he muses with a giggle, "Why do you think I'm still here, huh? Steve's just like me, he's bitten too."
"B-but--"
"Why do you think he believes in all those rumors, huh baby?" he asks with a lilt, "Cause he's one of 'em. Well -- not all the way, I guess. Not like me."
"He blows my cover he blows his whole operation," he grins, sharp teeth bearing themselves at you, "Why d'you think he only works night shifts?"
"I -- don't -- I don't," you sputter, "Pl-please d-don't bite me, d-don't eat me I -- I'll do whatever."
"You're too funny," he says in your ear, deep and grizzly while you're rooted to the spot under his clutch, "I already ate, sweet girl. But you'll make a fine dessert."
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You don't know how you get there but it's not like home -- it is but it isn't -- dark and deadly; covered in slithering vines. You're too petrified to ask; but whatever this place was, despite the spores in the air and the rubble from the walls -- it was much nicer than the trailer he grew up in.
"Shh, shh, shh," he coos, claws deep in your shoulder while he wrenches you to a bed covered in plush linens -- satin and full. In the blur around you it could almost be a movie set; the booms of red lightening, dripping pillar candles in heaps around the room.
You whimper at first when his claws release, hot blood oozing against your sweater. The pain pulses like a dull thud, spit flooding your mouth while you move to your side to wretch but he catches you by the root of your hair. You wail in fear, smelling the decay in his breath, the sweet subtle rot of your surroundings.
"It's not polite to cause a scene in a stranger's home, right princess?" he asks with a soft lilt. He holds your gaze, warmth spreading over you when he smirks again -- and despite your fear, you can't look away. You aren't even sure if you want to look away.
Your body goes slack on the comforter, melting into itself like a dropped marionnette. "Very good," he purrs. Hazy, you feel his hands on you -- losing their warmth while they sneak under the hem of your sweater. The pads of his fingers are soft in comparison to the tips of his nails, grazing your stomach and sternum before reaching up to cup your breasts. He lets out a shallow breath, squeezing the delicate flesh softly in his palms -- so gentle despite his rough demeanor.
His thumbs graze your nipples in slow circles earning him a mewl from your dry throat.
"So easy," he giggles in a whisper. You nearly pout when his hands slide down and away from you; beginning the unhurried removal of your clothing. He moves glacially, eyes remaining on yours, wraiths of whispers in a lanuage you don't understand fluttering in the air around you -- in one ear and out the other. Part of you wants to scream and thrash while he slides off your spandex, rips the seams of your panties, destroys your socks.
His clawed hands shred your sweater, snap your bra at the straps until all your clothes are left in a heap on the dusty floorboards by a forgotten desk. He crawls over you like a predator, undressed himself now: some how bigger, more hulking than before. His shoulders are broad, muscles flexing while skin so white it's nearly blue stretches over it. Whatever is down here has completely infected him, you can see it in the color of the veins beneath his skin, the slight red in his pupils, the dark blue hues under his eyes.
His wings lift high around him in an arched half circle, tips appearing behind him like a hybrid of horns and halo at once.
"Could smell you from here," he leers, "since last night. Christ, fucking drooling over you like a kid."
You whimper again, body jolting in pain when his nails pierce your thighs when he parts them. Fresh ichor spilling from the wounds in deep sanguine and he doesn't seem to care about the mess he's making while it drips onto the sheets. His cavalier manuevering comes off as though he likes to play with his food before he eats it.
"And I don't know what it is, angel, how my senses find the right ones," he rasps while he leans forward to your blood soaked shoulder; serpent tongue slipping out to lave over it, "But you really called to me this year; think you might be the one."
"The o-one wh-what?" you sniffle. His tongue slides over the lacerations on your shoulder again, sucking slightly from the new wounds. He lets out a groan, using free hand to rest on the side of your rib cage for support.
He deatches from the well he drinks from, tip of his nose running over your decollatage and up your neck. In inhales over your jugular, pressing a wet kiss under your jaw before getting to your ear.
"The one I mate with, sweetheart," he breathes, "The one I breed."
Breed? You heart sinks like a stone into your belly, body tensing in a freeze while you think of what to do. How to get out of here.
"Wait," you gasp, arms coming up to push at his chest and push him away, "No, please, wait -- you can't."
You push and push but he's a stone pillar, he barely moves, his muscles barely push inward at your assault. He tuts, the click of his tongue between his teeth almost a chitter. He noses your cheek before looming over you, tips of your noses brushing. He catches your gaze again, the whispers start while the air blows in through the broken window. Obedire domino tuo, obedire domino tuo, obedire domino tuo. His lips aren't moving but you can hear his low voice in your ears, barely there, swirling around in your subconcious while the wind whispers with it. Another flash of red lightning illuminates him in a streak, the rumble of thunder vibrating your belly and chest. His hand floats up from your rib cage while you settle, cupping your cheek to slide down to your jaw and over your neck. The touch is nearly comforting, dipping you back into a haze like before.
"You were saying?" he asks.
"Hm?" your brows pinch, his voice muffled and far away.
"That's what I thought," he says smugly, head dipping back down to your neck where his lips drag over your delicate skin. His breath leaves a patch of wet heat that lingers when he moves down over your chest, fangs peeking out behind his full lips when he drags them over the swell of your left breast.
A gentle gasp escapes you, eyes fluttering closed when the tip of his tongue teases your pert nipple, blowing cool air against it once soaked with his spit. He flicks against it again, alternating sides, presses kisses over them in clear ownership. The more he tasted of you, the more it belonged to him.
With each touch and tease of your tits the more you gasp and whine beneath him, he chuckles from his belly, moving down to your sternum.
"And I died a virgin, can you believe it?" he asks with a cocky lift to one of his brows, "Now all I gotta do is smile and girls like you 'll just fall into bed with me."
There's cotton in your ears, all you can do is nod slowly while blood still leaks from your shoulder and thighs. All you can feel is his mouth and hands travel further and further down. The wind howls and the low chant in the back of your head changes tune but in the same cadence; over and over again: vis, sentis, obedis. Vis, sentis, obedis. Vis, sentis, obedis.
He licks a stripe up the back of your thigh to catch a bead of blood before it reaches the mattress, savoring you. He feeds from the gouges he left behind for a moment before inching forward to the apex of your thighs. Eddie inhales your scent deeply, the earthly musk of you making his mouth water in a mix of metal and spit. His nose brushes against the untrimmed hair of your mound, ghosting himself over it drunk with attraction.
Your body heats up with mild embarrassment, flexing while your hips writhe slightly underhim. Almost as if he can hear your thoughts he kisses the crease of your thigh, "Nothing to be embarrassed about, baby. Girls don't let it grow like this anymore n' it's such a shame."
You want to speak up and explain it's just 'cause you haven't had the time but your tongue doesn't know how to move anymore. Too tired to speak, too caught up in how he feels, how he touches, how he takes what he wants. You relent again, body relaxing; pliant while he spreads you apart for him a desperate moan pulling from you when his tongue -- still soaked in your blood -- glides from the pool of slick at your opening all the way up to your clit.
You almost gag at the way your body betrays you, sending a spread of electricity over your nerves from your core to your finger tips. "More," you whisper, not even believing you're begging for him, "Please, more."
Eddie's smug in his response, smiling with his eyes while he looks up at you from between your legs, "And good manners? You spoil me, princess."
Your back arches in a soft curve when your hips push back into the mattress, pressing yourself into his waiting mouth. He groans again when your body drips for him, leaving a damp sheen on his cheeks and chin. It's not about your pleasure despite how much of it he's bringing you, but about your consumption. He's devouring you. Licking his plate clean from the outside in.
The moans he takes from you spur him on, getting you further and further away from the fight you put up before. Spilling over for him like a puddle while you writhe, a hand reaching out to rake through his hair. His own reaches up from aroud your thigh to hold you by the wrist tight to your side.
"Hands to yourself," he murmrs, soft lips wrapping around your swollen clit to suck expertly on the bud. You whimper, tugging at his hold but it only makes his grip more intense, pinning you there without much a fight. Not even enough to distract him from the task at hand.
When his tongue sinks back down into your soaking core you feel it, the heat pulsing through your belly while he lets the muscle dip and swirl in your wetness. Your thighs twitch and shake when his nose bumps your sensitive clit, his free hand coming up to gingerly rub circles over it in tandem.
"Oh my god," you whine, "Oh my god -- K-kas don' -- oh my god, ohmygod." He snickers, contining his movements, murmuring a quiet, "God's not here, baby."
Another roll over your hips sends you reeling, his tongue gliding in long strokes when finally the coil in your belly snaps. You fall apart beneath him, loud moans and high pitched squeals while he consumes you through it. Your body vibrates, thighs clamping down over his ears, blood from the slices in your flesh staining his hair and jaw.
He hums low when you settle, gasping for breath on your already dry and scratchy throat while you come down. 
Eddie rises slowly, shoulder blades and wings moving with him while he crawls up your body. Smooth and languid like a snake, his torso hovers above yours while he settles his hips between your thighs. You look up at him, his shape, the way his eyes have blown black, the newfound sharpness in his features. A creature, a monster in your wake — not the same person you saw at the cemetery. 
“Oh,” he coos when he sees your eyes glassy and rounded upon him, “So precious.” 
You're much weaker now, mind and body, the stings across your skin from the broken branches and his sharpened nails a pain you've become better accquainted with. You take another breath of calm, arms resting by your head with your palms up towards the ceiling. He takes the moment of surrender to hold them down against the bed. The pressure of his hips against yours keeps you pinned, but you barely fight -- maybe squirm, maybe whine. No thrashing, no screaming, the whispers echo through the wind again:
Vis, sentis, obedis. Vis, sentis, obedis.
"So, so, precious," he whispers while he leans forward, kisses pressed to one cheek and then the other slow and controlled. He inhales again when he dips down to your neck, piercing fangs dragging over the vein there. You feel the push and then the pain, the unbearable blinding pain of his teeth ripping through you. Through your skin, through the muscle, the pulse of his mouth while he holds himself there.
You cry out, nearly a scream while he holds himself there -- just enough to infect you, just enough to get the poison in. The pain reaches a blinding peak, bile growing up your throat, eyes filling with a white hot surge of anguish and then -- Nothing. Euphoria. An unknown lightness you hadn't felt before.
He releases, still holding tight to your wrists above your head when he raises up over you again.
"Open," he instructs, and in your hazy gaze you obey. Your tongue flattens against your chin without command.
"Very good, sweetheart," he praises, collecting the blood left on his lips and in his cheeks to spit it directly into your waiting mouth.
"You can close now," he grins, "And swallow."
He grunts, hips sliding against you so that you can feel his length between your legs; the girth alone sends a chill to the part of you that is screaming inside your head. How is it supposed to fit? How is he supposed to get this inside you? "Don't worry," he laughs, "It'll fit."
When your vision snaps up at him he laughs again, "I can hear you in there, princess. I can always hear you."
He dips down again, tip of his nose sliding over your cheek to your ear, "So be very careful what you think about."
He doesn't need his hands to guide the head of himself into your already needy center. It's a stretch, delicious but nearing painful. It's not something you've ever even dreamed of taking before; thick, large, inhuman.
Your legs lift on their own accord while he pushes in further, getting half way while you let out a choked sob.
"Aw, shh, shh, shh," he mocks, easing in more, "C'mon you can take it."
"You can --" his hips snap in hard for the rest of him, letting out a ragged grunt when the rest of him disappears inside you, "--take it."
You mouth hangs open in a desperate oval, face crumpling when you become so full of him -- all encompassing. A part of you now, buried deep within. He moves, dangerously slow and controlled; methodic in how he thrusts himself deeper and deeper inside. "Mmm, that's it," he growls, chest to chest with him while his hip grind at a deliberate pace. You feel his hot breath fan out over your lips, forehead pressed against yours. He's not hot, he's not cold, just skin against yours while it flashes with heat. You go from shaking to sweating with minutes in between.
When your hips roll to meet his thrusts you moan, the tip hitting you so deep in your core that stars burst behind your eyes. "There we go," he grins mischeviously, "S'at feel good, pet?"
"Ooh, yes," you hiss through gritted teeth, actively trying to bounce yourself againsth him now that your body has started accommodating his sheer size. He raises himself up on his hands like a cobra, snake like peering down at you while he meets the roll of your hips with an unforgiving thrust.
"Good," he oozes the word out like smoke, deliciosly deep seated in his belly when he thrusts hard again. He mumbles a quiet musing to himself that you can't hear -- too gone in the lightness in your body, in the way nothing hurts, in the way you're so full.
Can finally fuck you how I wanna.
He gets up, sitting back on his haunches while still inside you, pushing your legs up so your knees end up by your ears. With this leverage he sinks in deep. You don't even know how far in he is, just that he's in and he's there, he's everywehre, he's outside and in.
Eddie locks eyes with you, that same smirk from the cemetary that made your stomach flip dancing across his devilish features, "Tell me you like it."
Your mouth moves before your brain can hesitate, "I like it." "Tell me you need it," he demands, tone measured and sure.
"I need it," you say back, your voice coming out broken and weak, "Please, I need it."
He pulls back and punches forward, hard enough that you gasp at the impact. He grips you hard by the backs of your legs, thrusts starting slow and building at an unrelenting pace. His eyes are wild; boring down at you through from under furrowed and determined brows. If you had any mind left, you'd think that he hates you by the way he stares.
"Fuck," he snarls, leaning forward over you, one hand pressing down on the mattress next to your head, "Shit -- fuck, that's it. That's fuckin' -- shit, you're fuckin' mine." "Say you need me."
"I need you," you choke back without thinking, barely able to breathe at his speed. The coil tightens deep inside of you again, tears pouring down your cheeks in waves -- not even crying, just recieving. Absorbing him. Your body rocks like a boat on unsteady waves pinned beneath him, the only sounds are the whispers in your subconcious, his growls and sputters like an animal above you. The lewd slaps of skin against skin, the squelches of him pushing you to your limits.
He steadies himself over you, nose to nose again while he fucks you. Really fucks you. Impressed with himself, he lets out a breathy chuckle when you throw your head back -- eyes shutting tight with a pornographic scream.
"Oh GOD!" you cry out, "Oh my god."
His fingers and claws catch your chin with a firm shake, eyes snapping open to meet the knowing glare of his ruddy brown ones.
"Your god," he starts, panting into your mouth, "is right here in front of you."
You swallow, mouth falling agape again when you feel the bite of his nails on the fat of your cheeks. "Right here," you repeat, dazed and overwhelmed, "N'..n'fronname."
"Right here in front of you," he nods, leaning down to brush his nose against yours while his thrusts slow to a steady pace. It's then that his lips meet yours, the kiss searing with desire and claim when his tongue slides into your mouth. You can taste the metallic twang of your blood in his mouth, sighing into it while he guides the kiss. Breaking away and coming back in; rushed and heated each time while he feels himself get closer to his peak.
His forehead presses against yours, one hand finally releasing your wrist to hold your head in place over your hair. You keep eye contact with him, not even sure if you're blinking, if you even need to blink. You rasp breaths, mouth and throat dry and aching while you breathe into him. You're close, teetering on the edge while he pushes you up with his hips to rest your lower body on his knees and thighs.
"Come undone," he murmurs, "Let go for me."
The command ripples through you, bursting through your belly with a warm heat. You welcome it, eyes rolling, cries pouring from you in words you don't think you understand. He encourages you, offering you rough sweet nothings while you pray to him, beg for him, ache for him.
That's enough to send him over; seeing you completely at his mercy now. Obedient, trained, devoured.
He snares and snarls, growling while he comes deep inside of you. The hand on your head wraps painfully in your hair like it did before you started -- uncaring, brutal. The heat of his seed pools deep within you like the heart of your orgasm. Glazed over you groan, hips rolling up in one final cant to receive him fully. Your vision vingettes while he unsheathes from you; fluids leaking onto the sheets. You're empty and the room spins with a new blackness, you're fading. Fainting? Dying?
The fuzziness continues to darken arouns you, around him, until he's all that's left in the tunnel of your vision. "That's a good girl," he soothes smugly, "Very well done."
Your gaze and mind fade fully to a staticky black.
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You wake, you’re not sure how much later. 
Still on the bed and still undressed but your arms feel tight – a tug reveals your current state. Bound to a post on the headboard by a triple handcuff knot, dense hemp rope keeping your arms above your head. 
You whine and struggle, coming to your senses now – no one knows where you are, you barely know where you are. An underworld – hell. Somewhere. 
“Don’t look so terrified, sweetheart,” his smooth honey voice is heard before he appears in the candle light again, “I’m right here.” 
“Wh-why am I –” you swallow thickly, coughing and sputtering with how dry your mouth and throat are now, “Why am I tied up?” 
He looks at you with faux concern, brows raising, “Oh honey, are you okay?” 
He reaches out, pushing your hair away from your face, “Don’t be stressed. Y’know something – I just realized, I never offered you anything to drink.” 
“My uncle always told me you should take a girl out to dinner before makin’ the van rock and look at me,” he gestures at his chest, tutting at himself, “Where are my manners, huh?” 
Your lip wobbles while he looms over you, “Are you thirsty?” 
You nod, he grins – cheshire like, fangs glinting in the light, “I thought you would be.” He gets up, lazy and confident in his walk across the room. His body looks like marble, chiseled with the running and hunting you realize he’s been doing for over a decade. Stronger than ever; ethereal in his post orgasm glow. 
He pulls his hair back while he walks, holding it up away from his neck while your eyes travel down his back where his wings have tucked in under the skin. You gag when you see them move above his blades, rippling beneath the tattoos he has there. He’s dressed in only shorts; silk – likely stolen to really own the whole vampire thing he has going on. 
You take in a shaky breath when he gets what he needs, dropping his hair back to his shoulders when he makes his way back to you. 
He holds the dagger coolly in his hand before gliding the tip down the center of his wrist. Blood blooms from the wound; he doesn’t even flinch. 
“Open, princess,” he murmurs. Your lips clamp shut, shaking your head no while fear takes over – rot in your chest. He catches your chin again, forcing you to look at him like before. 
“Open,” he repeats, slower. His voice reverberates like a gong between your ears. 
Your mouth opens on its own accord and the smell of his blood becomes the most alluring scent you’ve had pass your nose in years. You latch on to the laceration, swallowing and sucking deeply on the wound while his blood and body quench and feed you better than any meal you think you’ve ever had. You feel revived as you devour him, eyes fluttering closed while the fill feels never enough. 
“That’s it, keep goin’,” he encourages under his breath, “Won’t have to keep asking you to do things twice once this is all over with.” 
You break away to breathe, gasping like you’re coming up for air, drowning in him. 
“What do you mean?” 
“I mean you’ll be just like me, sweetheart,” he says, chuckling when you eagerly lean forward to drink him again, “After a night of some deeply insurmountable pain; and then nothing. Just mine. Undead and mine.” 
“But y–you said you were – I’m –” your brows knit in confusion, “You didn’t h-have to d-do this; whatever you um – whatever you bred me with will die if you do this.” 
“Oh, no, no,” he laughs evilly, “I didn’t breed you quite yet.” 
He pulls his arm away, wiping the blood from your chin with his thumb roughly. 
“Consider what we did a, uh…hmm,” he takes a second to think about it with a hum, shrugging cheekily, “A soul bonding experience.” 
“You’re disgusting,” you spit. 
“I’m delicious,” he corrects, smearing his blood from your chin to your cheek, “If you do say so yourself.” 
He gets up again, pulling the covers out from under you to tuck you in. The chill getting to you in a way it never gets to him; you might as well be warm while you turn into actualized death. 
“I can hear you, remember?” he asks, tapping your head, “You won’t be totally alone with me. There’s…shit there are plenty just like us.” 
“Like Steve,” you pipe up groggily. 
“More than just goodie two-shoes Harrington,” he groans, “God, do you ever shut up about him?”
You sniffle in response.
“I mean this place, this – dimension,” he says, “It’s more than just Hawkins, and there are so many more like us; even up there.” 
He points upwards with a sharp nailed finger, “All around.” 
“And now that you’ll be just like me,” he smiles, sitting on the edge of the bed next to you in the crook of you waist, “There’ll be all the time in the world to breed you.” 
Your vision blurs, either from tears or from another fade, you aren’t sure. You can feel a slow burn through your veins, a rush of blood. You whimper. 
“So it begins,” he smirks, running the tip of his finger over your nose bridge. 
“Oh!” he says, eyes bulging, “Before I forget, and before I lose you – because you’ll be such a pretty blank slate when you come to – I felt like I should be honest.” 
He gestures dramatically, a maniacal grin pushing his cheeks up to his eyes while they spark, “Again with my manners, it was so rude of me to introduce myself to Pete’s grave at the cemetery. We’ve met before! Can’t believe I had almost forgotten.” 
Ice in your body fights the burning in your veins, you gag, bile coming up to singe your throat. 
“And y’know, I didn’t mean to drop him in the quarry when I was done with him,” he says with a scrunch of his nose, like he accidentally wrote the wrong tip on a restaurant check, “Really, my mistake, but Christ did he hit every piece of limestone on the way down.” 
He lets out a hearty laugh while he remembers it, your brother's body bouncing off rocks and metal before slipping under the water. You swallow your sick only or it to rise back up with a vengeance, staining your skin red while it seeps out of the corner of your mouth. You tug on the ropes in retaliation, hot angry tears stinging your eyes. 
“All that fallin’ did a number on him – which is good because it really took the heat of anyone knowing it was me. I just wasn't as clean about it back then. Much better now though,” he nods, finishing with a superior and charming look like he just told a bedtime story. 
He leans forward close to your face while your vision pulses in fuzzy black, browning out while he looks down at you. 
“And I’ll tell you something, babe…” 
Fading, fading, fading.
“He tasted divine.”
masterlist | fall frenzy | ko-fi
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darlingbabyboo · 9 months
Text
"What's wrong with me?"
♡ Luffy doesn't understand why the sight of you with Ace makes something ignite in him ♡
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Reader is described as a girl and shorter then Luffy and Ace. Also, suspend your disbelief, timeline is not at all canon compliant. Also also, not edited in the slightest :)
Ace is being introduced and everything and Luffy is so happy
He loves his brother so much and seeing him is a dream
He's a natural charmer too, the entire crew is smitten with him
And some might be a bit too smitten with him
So rewind a bit, what exactly is your relationship with Luffy?
You're a really valuable member of the crew Luffy values you an extra lot
Since Luffy doesn't have a subtle bone in his entire body literally everyone knows that he's in love with you
Everyone except for you
Luffy might be the most obvious motherfucker but you're the most oblivious motherfucker
Match made in heaven
The crew is sick of your shit
But it's all going to be over soon thanks to a certain flame boi
Going back to Ace
When you saw Ace, your jaw dropped (and honey, who can blame you?)
And when Ace saw you, he was equally impressed because you're also quite a beauty
"I-it's so nice to see you." You can't help but stammer when you see Luffy's older brother. He's so- attractive!
"I should be saying that to you." He gives you an awards-winning smile and you try not to faint. "I love your curls."
You try to compose yourself as he leans in closer, your foreheads brushing against each other. You think- he's trying to break you. And lo and behold, his next words makes your heart skip a beat.
"I've certainly never seen such a beauty in all of the seas."
You can't handle it, your legs start to tremble, you're definitely going to fall over. You can feel yourself going...
Until, Ace wraps his arms around your waist to stop you
The crew watches the scene with a bit of amusement at the lovey-dovey scene
Luffy's not as impressed
"Ace! Let me show you around the ship." In the middle of you, pushing both of you apart (using a bit of his devil fruit to make sure that you guys stay far away from each others)
You pout, upset that your moment has been interrupted
Ace is equally disappointed
And Luffy is now filled with determination to make sure both of you never talk to each other again
"Hey, gorgeous, wanna night watch together? The stars are almost as beautiful as you."
"Oh, well-"
"She's going to be too busy!" Luffy pops in, out of nowhere. Not even remotely near you when the conversation was happening. Lying through his rubber skin because you have fucking nothing to do.
That's how all your interactions with Ace go on for the entirety of his stay
"Gorgeous, wanna walk around the island a bit?"
"That'd be great! I just need to-"
"Too bad that she's helping Sanji search for food!"
"What? No, I'll be fine. You can go with Ace if you want." Sanji doesn't want to be dragged into the weird love triangle with Luffy and his brother.
Luffy, in a shocking display, glares at Sanji and stretches to wrap his arms around you, pulling you into him. He nozzles into you, despite your gasp at the quick motion, "she'll be with me and Usopp, so she can't come with you." He sticks his tongue out at Ace as an extra measure, though his older brother only gives a playful smile.
The crew also has their own playful smiles
Luffy is experiencing jealousy so badly and him talking about his feelings is such a laugh
He tries to talk to you but he's horrible at talking about his feelings and also has such a soft spot for you that he's not match for it
"I didn't think that your brother was like that." You swoon. Luffy wonders if he's imaging hearts in your eyes. Why do you have those. Ace is cool but not that cool.
"I didn't think you would react like that." He huffs out, "I don't even know why you're talking to him this much, he likes you too much."
You laugh, thinking he's just being silly possessive like he is over the rest of the crew. "He's just being friendly. Nothing wrong with that."
"I think there's a lot wrong with that." He insists, a prominent pout on his face and arms crossed.
"Luffy, it's not a big deal."
"Yeah, well..." He trails off when you tilt up and place your hands on his cheeks.
"It's fine Luffy, don't worry." You smile up at him.
A strange feeling swarms in him. Is he hungry right now? All he knows is that he wants your smile aimed at him forever.
When Ace is about to leave, Luffy is practically dragging him away.
He loves his brother, he does, truly
Just doesn't like the chemistry that he has with you
"I'll miss you, beautiful." Ace offers you a charming smile and you bite your bottom lip, giving him a bashful look.
"O-oh, th-thank-"
"Okay, bye Ace, won't see you for a long time!"
He pushes Ace onto his boat, the crew watching in amusement and Ace laughing the entire time.
"Now you can spend more time with me again!" He wraps his arms around you, you giggle at him.
"Sure Luffy- and there's no need to be jealous- out of the two of you, you're my favourite!"
Oh, maybe you weren't that oblivious after all.
Luffy's smile widens when he hears that, hugging you tighter.
No matter what jealousies, you two will always be each others favourites ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡
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wlntrsldler · 2 months
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ii. and i never saw you coming, and i'll never be the same. | luke castellan | state of grace
sixteen-year-old luke castellan has his first kiss with you, the girl he'd been hopelessly crushing on for the last two years.
athena!reader x luke castellan. not canon compliant, no betrayal. happy ending luke :)
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sixteen-year-old luke castellan was shooting daggers at annabeth right now while she playfully approached you, pretending to expose his crush on you. 
“beth!” he hissed, making a ‘cut-it-out’ motion with his hands. chris chuckled softly from beside him, too entertained by the situation unfolding. luke jabbed his elbow into chris’ rib, unable to handle two of his so-called friends laughing at his demise. “annabeth, please don’t!” 
that caught your attention. you turned around to see annabeth, a sheepish smile on her face as she awkwardly waved at you. you cocked an eyebrow before tilting your head to see luke, half-standing from the bench with a frozen expression on his face. chris was doubled over in laughter, nearly falling off his seat. 
“come with me,” you placed both hands on beth’s shoulders, letting her lead you to the two hermes boys. you stood in front of them, removing your hands from beth and crossing them over your chest. you playfully pointed between the three of them, “care to tell me what this is about?” 
“i think luke should tell you,” chris shrugged, making eye contact with annabeth. the two of them erupted in giggles and luke wanted the ground to swallow him whole. if it wasn’t for his friends’ actions, he’s sure it would’ve been the redness on his cheeks that gave it away. 
“well, go on, head counselor,” you bit your bottom lip, finding his blushing face completely adorable. 
you and luke got closer over the past two years since he got to camp. he was always around the athena cabin, at first because he wanted to be close to annabeth, but everyone knew that it slowly morphed into wanting to see you and hang out with you more. because he was always with you, the campers got to know him fairly quickly. luke was right– everyone did love you, and by association, the campers liked him too, or at least, tolerated him. 
you were known to be the nicest head counselor, even before you took the position from oliver, known as the best archer in camp’s history, and the wisest daughter of athena. the more luke hung out with you and got to know you, the more his feelings for you developed.
in his defense, it was hard not to fall for you. he’d never met anyone as funny as you. every time he returns to the hermes cabin from being with you, his stomach hurts from laughing so much. you seemed to finish each other’s sentences so the punchlines of the jokes die on the tip of your tongues, but you’re both out of breath from laughing that not finishing the joke didn’t even matter. 
you took care of everyone at camp, even if they weren’t your own siblings. he’d seen you bandage travis and connor stoll up one too many times and let them go instead of writing them up for one of their pranks. the boys would return to the hermes cabin, heads hanging low, with a look of short-lived apologies on their faces when luke asked them about why they had bandages on their forearms. luke pretended not to notice the knowing smiles the two troublemakers shared whenever he would say, you’re lucky counselor y/n was there. 
you were fearless. you were often chosen to be a companion for quests because everyone knew you were the best. you never denied them and it got to the point where chiron and mr. d had to make a public service announcement that you were no longer allowed to go on quests unless it was your own because camp fell apart during the weeks you were away. the first time luke prayed to the gods, to his father, was when you returned from a particularly difficult quest with clarisse and you were in the infirmary for three days.
but above all that, you made luke a better person. you inspired him to always find kindness in everything. you cared so much about your siblings and the campers and it made him open himself up to care for his own siblings. he and chris were inseparable now and luke knew he probably wouldn’t have been ready to get close to other people if it weren’t for you. you pushed him to work on his sword work, helped him understand strategies, and taught him everything about camp. eventually, people took note of him and he became the hermes head counselor not too long after. 
in between all of these things were luke’s favorite moments; like the calm minutes after hours-long training sessions, where you reveal something new about yourself. you’d go on and on about a random story that goes off into at least ten tangential stories, but luke didn’t care. he’d gladly lay on his stomach, letting the rays of the sun beat down on his back until his skin turned red and hot to the touch, to hear you talk. you’d roll over on your back or prop your chin on your open palm and ask him questions about himself. and luke would tell you things he’d never told anyone before. luke treasures these moments in his mind– small, happy memories, like a step-by-step guide on how to fall in love. 
“they were just going to pull a prank,” he lied, ignoring the ‘thumbs-down’ motion annabeth sent his way and the ‘womp womp’ that chris let slip past his lips. “told them to quit it.” 
“tsk, tsk,” you tutted, but there was no anger on your face, only fondness. you looked at annabeth, “i expected better from the daughter of athena, but you’re too much like your brother.” 
“oh, ew, don’t say that,” annabeth shook her head, walking away as luke raised his hands in defense. chris pat luke on the back, following annabeth back to camp to join everyone else. 
“i am offended that she is in her, ‘i hate my brother phase,” luke scoffed, shaking his head. he moved over to let you sit on chris’ previous seat. “i’m not that bad to warrant an ‘ew.’”
“she loves you,” you nudged him, letting your shoulder stay connected to his. “she’s exactly like you, even if she doesn’t admit it.” 
“she’s got the good parts of me,” he replied, looking down at where his shoulder was touching yours. his hand slowly crept to yours, trying not to be super awkward about it. 
he’d held hands with you before, when you’d mindlessly lace your fingers together underneath the table while you were talking to someone, wanting to feel him there, making sure that he was next to you or when you’d hold his hand during moments where he’d get so frustrated with the gods that you had to calm him down. but he always got nervous initiating it.
over the years, he’d grown to be strong and unafraid, but when it came to you, his resolve crumbled. with you, he was just a teenage boy with a crush.
“so, she’s got all of you,” you said, noticing his hand moving closer. you put a hand over his, flipping it over so you could properly hold it. you squeezed his hand making him rub his thumb across the back of yours.
“not all of me,” he turned his head to look at you, “i see parts of you in her, too.” 
“you mean our mom.”
“no, i don’t,” luke replied, sincerity in his eyes. “i mean you.” 
sure, annabeth was brilliant like the daughter of athena should be. she was always six steps ahead of everyone else and she quickly became your right-hand woman when coming up with strategies for capture the flag. there was no doubt that annabeth was a daughter of athena.
but there were so many parts of you, the person she looked up to the most, in her as well. annabeth was more patient than luke. she can explain things to younger campers, and sometimes older ones, a hundred times without getting frustrated that they weren’t grasping the concept. luke had to walk away so many times when he got frustrated. you’re such a hot head, luke, you said to him once, a teasing smile on your face as you ran your hands down his back to help him relax. beth also grew to read people well. she can hear the unspoken words in conversations and know exactly what someone needs, a heightened sense of emotional intelligence that luke knew she couldn’t have learned from anyone else but you.
there were other, simpler, things too; like how annabeth doesn’t tie her shoes too tightly, unless she was training or competing, so she can slip her shoes on and off easily, or how she tucks her camp necklace under her shirt just like you. 
the look in luke’s eyes was intense. you had to look away before you lost your senses and connected your lips with his. he does this often, say things so nonchalantly like it didn’t make your breath catch in your throat. he says these words with such clarity, like the only things he’d ever been sure of in his life were the things he says about you or to you. it made your head spin. 
“so,” you changed the subject, untangling your hands from each other to turn your entire body to face him. you poked his cheek with your index finger, “you gonna tell me the truth about what that was?” 
“what’s that?” he asked, dumbly, trying to act like chris and beth didn’t just leave you alone with him. he pretended to think, rubbing his chin with his fingers, “dunno what you’re talking about?” 
you groaned, dropping your forehead to his shoulder. you felt him wrap an arm around your torso, his chest rumbling as he laughed at your reaction. you looked up at him, temple pressed against his shoulder blade, “c’mon, luke,” 
“no,” he shook his head, face turning red again, “it’s humiliating.” 
“if i tell you a secret, can you tell me yours?” you whispered. luke shivered at the feeling of your breath hitting his skin. he felt the goosebumps rising on his arms that he had wrapped around you. you pulled your head away from him, creating more distance, “how does that sound?” 
“no promises,” he replied, eyes darting to your lips for a brief second. he cleared his throat, “if your secret is a good one, then maybe i’ll consider it.” 
“oh it’s a good one,” you said, mischief in your eyes. there were only a handful of moments where you let go of your head counselor persona, where you’d join the hermes cabin in wreaking havoc on camp.
his sixteenth birthday came to mind. you arranged for a surprise birthday party for him. he woke up to an empty cabin, which was rare, and camp was deserted when he left to grab breakfast. when he got to the dining hall, all the food prepared were his favorites and there was a messily painted banner hanging across the walls, courtesy of the art skills of the younger campers you taught during arts and crafts the day before. 
the food wasn’t nutritional at all and mr. d made it clear that it would never happen again. i don’t know what i was thinking saying yes to an all-day sugar rush, he muttered after the third instance of young kids breaking their arms from attempting to climb up on their cabin roofs. maybe twinkies and salt and vinegar potato chips were not the healthiest breakfast foods, but luke thought it was perfect.
he received his present from you after, a messenger bag for the son of the god of messengers and a compass that always pointed him back to the athena cabin. so you always find your way home, you reasoned. 
luke knew he didn’t need a compass to bring him back to you. his dad gave him the ability to always find his way back home and he was glad you knew that to him, home was wherever you were. on his sixteenth birthday, with you under his arm and the compass safely tucked inside his pocket, for the first time, he was thankful to be his father’s son. 
that look of mischief in your eye always meant that you had something up your sleeve and luke didn’t know if he should be excited or scared. luke pressed, “tell me, then.” 
“i have a crush on this boy,” you scrunched your face up, cheeks dusted with the lightest shade of pink.
he pursed his lips, heart dropping. he knew this time would come. he was thankful that he was spared from the boy talk that you engaged in with your other friends. he often heard you and silena squealing about some guy one of you liked and he was glad that you had other friends to talk to about it because he couldn’t handle you gush over another guy when he felt this deeply about you. 
“it’s the new aphrodite kid, isn’t it?” luke asked, pulling away from you. “everyone is in love with him. even clarisse said he was cute! i personally don’t see it.” 
you rolled your eyes, “luke, come on.” 
“what?” he asked, “i’m pretty sure he’s not even a natural blond.” 
you didn’t know if luke was playing dumb or if he genuinely didn’t realize that you were talking about him. you’d been blatantly obvious about how you felt about him, at least you thought you had been. you were always sitting beside him, choosing him to be your partner for head counselor activities, spent every free moment you had with him, and you were touchy with him, more than you were with anyone else at camp. at this point, all that was left to do was to spell it out for him. 
you laughed, throwing your head back in laughter, “it’s not jack.” 
“who then?” 
“nope,” you said, shaking your head. “you gotta tell me your secret now because i told you mine.” 
“that was like half a secret, angel!” 
“okay so tell me half of your secret!” 
“fine,” he relented, “i have a crush, too.” 
your eyes widened, heart beating a million miles an hour. you knew how he felt about you, but you'd just been waiting for him to say something. “now, you have to tell me!” 
“you first!” luke laughed, reaching out to grab you when you got up. you slipped past his fingers, walking away. “come back!” 
your laughter filled his ears as you stood behind him. you wrapped your arms around him, propping your chin on his shoulder. luke nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, letting out a content sigh. he tilted his head to the side, his lips ghosting over the skin of your arm. 
you stayed like that for a few beats until he broke the silence. he should be upset right now because you liked a boy and wouldn’t tell him who it was, but it was hard to be mad when you were holding him like this. he looked up at you, a boyish grin on his face, eyes half open, “you gonna tell me?” 
“it’s obvious,” you said, running your fingers through his hair. he purred under your touch, grabbing a hold of your arms to stop you from leaving his side. you weren’t planning to. “come on, luke. use that pretty little head of yours.” 
luke tucked his face into the crease of your elbow, hiding his blush. he racked his brain for anyone else who you could have a crush on, but his mind ended up blank. when he thought of who on this earth could deserve you, he came up with no names. there was nobody who was good enough for you. 
he changed his strategy. who did you hang out with at camp? he tried to think of the people he saw you with. he’s seen you with the boy from the apollo cabin a few times but that was usually only when one of your siblings got injured. maybe the boy from the hephaestus cabin? the one who made his sword? no, you only talked to him on luke’s behalf that one time when you noticed he needed a new sword because he broke it during a particularly intense training session with you. he frowned. the only guy you actually hung out with at camp was him. and that couldn’t possibly be… unless? 
luke’s head snapped up, “do you like me?” 
“do you like me, he says,” you mimicked, “took ya long enough.” 
you placed a chaste kiss on his cheek before running away from him, giggling and blushing like a school girl. luke couldn’t react quick enough to stop you from leaving, too dazed at your rushed confession. when he snapped back to his senses, he jumped from his seat, using all his strength to chase after you. he was thankful for his growth spurt because he caught up to you before you entered the main area of camp. 
he wrapped his arms around your hips, twirling you around, ignoring your sounds of protests. he stared at you as you beat on his chest, hair in disarray from the wind. his lips were in a full-blown grin, head spinning with thoughts of you. you. you. you. you were all he could think about. 
he finally put you down but left his hands on your hips as you tried to fix your messy hair. he liked you like this, soft and shy. it was a part of you that felt like was reserved for him. usually, you took on this authoritative, caretaker role, always having the weight of responsibility resting on your back, but with him, in these secret moments, you were delicate. luke wanted to protect you from everything, not because he thought you needed his protection, but because he felt like he’d finally found his purpose in this life-- to be with you. it was still caused by the hands of fate but away from the meddling of the gods.
“you like me,” he teased, pinching the skin of your hips. 
“don’t get cocky,” you replied, smacking his chest. 
luke hummed, leaning closer, “i like you too.”
“i know,” you whispered, inching closer to him. “just wanted you to confess first.” 
“c’mon angel, cut me some slack,” he blushed, eyes darting to your lips. he ran his tongue across his lips, “didn’t think i had a shot with you.” 
“you need to start giving yourself more credit, luke,” you reached over to cradle his face in your palm. your eyes traced over his features, mesmerized by the pools of honey in his eyes, the pink of his plump lips, “you’re the best person i know.” 
“all ‘cause of you,” there were those words again. there was no room for argument when luke spoke about you. he was sure of it, too sure of you.
“are you gonna kiss me or am i gonna have to make all the moves in this relationship?” 
luke rolled his eyes, “shut up.” 
he placed his lips on yours, unable to stop himself from smiling as you kissed back. he pushed you towards him, wanting to feel you closer. the kiss was short because you were both breathless and grinning. it was messy and uncoordinated with it both being your first kisses. when he pulled his lips away from yours, he placed kisses all over your face, your jaw, your neck, his curls tickling your skin. 
eventually, he stopped in a fit of giggles, lips puffy and pink. there was a dazed look on his face, as if he couldn’t believe that this was actually happening. he let go of your hips but threaded your fingers together as you walked into camp, burying his face into your hair when he heard chris and beth hollering in support when they saw your intertwined hands and disheveled demeanors. 
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islandofsages · 4 months
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The first years (not Ortho) discovering that they are Yuu's emergency contact. Like Yuu put them as an emergency contact, but he didn't think it would be necessary, but he ends up having an accident out the town and is taken to the hospital, causing one of the first years to be called, so when they ask Yuu why they chose him to be As his emergency contact, Yuu responds that he is the one he trusts the most in the group.
characters: first years (excluding ortho) x gn!yuu!reader
tags: platonic, canon compliant, hurt/comfort, imagines + scenario format; mention of vil in epel's, mention of malleus in sebek's
warnings: accidents, hospitals, near-death mention, the use of the word "idiot" as an endearing term in ace's, hugs and hand-holding in deuce's
author's notes: ngl the pronouns in the ask kinda confused me so i just made this gn reader lol hope you dont mind anon <3
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Ace Trappola
Despite all his antics (or maybe because of them), he really feels that he’s made a genuine connection with you
He won’t say it but he’s really glad that you put up with him and you don’t see him as some one-dimensional jerk you do see him as a multidimensional jerk though /joke
So when he gets a call from your number yet an unfamiliar voice greets him, he immediately grows worried, and for good reason - turns out you’ve ended up in the hospital due to some unknown accident
He drops everything he’s doing and rushes to the hospital without thinking twice. Like, literally rush there. He spares no time to call for transport
…Or ask for details from anyone for that matter. If it weren’t for the staff, he would’ve tried barging into any random ward to find you
When he gets to you, panting and panicked, he goes to steady himself, his hands gripping the sides of the hospital bed so tightly
You’re glad to see his face and he’s glad to see that you still manage to muster up a smile at his presence
That’s when he notices that nobody else is there, and so he asks you where everybody else is. You tell him they only called up your emergency contact which is none other than Ace himself
He asks you why is he your emergency contact out of everyone-
“It’s because I trust you the most, you idiot. I bet you ran all the way here the moment you got that phone call.”
You let out a knowing laugh and Ace pouts as a response, totally not trying to hide the tears that pricked the corner of his eyes
You’re not sure who’s supposed to do the comforting at that moment, considering you were involved in an accident and Ace is on the verge of tears - so you both don’t bother trying. The following conversation carries on as normal
Despite all his antics, you really feel like your faith in him is not misplaced.
Deuce Spade
You’ve always admired Deuce’s strength to change - and he’s always admired your loyalty
Sometimes he’d feel guilty for having you endure having him as a friend and you always have to shut him up by assuring him that there’s really nothing to endure
Even when you have to endure an almost life-ending accident, you can’t help but think of him first and foremost
His grip on the phone alternates between on the verge of breaking and so loose it’s a miracle he hasn’t dropped it yet when he gets the news
Someone goes to fetch him from the hospital and he cries on the way, not giving any room for the person to speak with him
He tries to put on a brave face when he walks through the halls in search of you but when he reaches you, he can’t resist the yell he lets out
“YUU! YOU’RE ALIVE!”
You end up having to calm him down a bit lest you two become the victims of a few dozen glares in that hospital
When he’s down to only sniffing, you tell him why he’s the first person you called
He almost broke down into tears again because of it
He’d hug you or hold your hand if your condition allows it and give you a teary smile that you of course reciprocate
You fill him in on what happened and he’ll listen intently, then offer to be by your side as long as you need him to
He’s always admired your strength - and you’ve always admired his loyalty.
Jack Howl
You always found his stubbornness amusing and honestly, he’s a bit confused as to why you stick by him all this time
Not really in a self-deprecating way - he’s always been more of a lone wolf. Only when he came to Night Raven College does he feel like he’s part of a pack now
And since you’re a part of that pack, he has a strong need to protect you, no matter the cost; so you can imagine his reaction when he got a call about you ending up in the hospital after an accident
The first thing he feels is anger; not at anything in particular yet at everything simultaneously. It’s called an accident for a reason yet why did the universe allow such a thing to happen to you?
He tries to calm himself down on the way to the hospital but it’s nothing short of difficult, even with the help of someone else
When he finally finds you, he finally lets out a breath he wasn’t even aware he was holding
You muster a smile up at him and it takes his all not to let tears break through the surface
“...I was really worried.”
You chuckle - in situations like this, his absent stubbornness really makes a difference, but you appreciate his honesty
He didn’t think twice of the fact that he was the first one you called but you tell him why anyway. A cute little smile adorns his features then
He says he’s honored that his feelings are mutual then swears to you he’ll try harder to protect you, even if it means switching places with you
You brush him off, saying you’d do the same. The conversation goes back and forth for a while after that
He’s always found your insistence endearing and frankly, he wouldn’t have you any other way.
Epel Felmier
A bit similar to Jack, only when coming to Night Raven College does he get to mingle with kids of his age due to his hometown
And one of those kids is none other than you! You two have grown so close and made some unforgettable memories together
Unfortunately though, one of those unforgettable memories includes the news of your accident. Not just for him - some may remember the scream he let out at the news
He begged Vil to let him borrow the blastcycle the Film Research Club has and Vil only nodded solemnly; nobody needs to see him cry on the way to you
He speeds through everything and anything possible; he doesn’t care whatever consequences he has to face after all this is over
When he reaches the hospital, he allows the staff to guide him to where you are as he catches his breath
He chokes out a gasp at the sight of you and calls out to you
“Y-Yuu… I’m so glad you’re alright…”
He sits on the stool provided by the hospital and his head droops low. He’s silent
You give him a moment to process everything. It’s a lot to take in. Even you didn’t think it could come to this
Five minutes pass. You sigh and tell him why he’s the first you reached out to. He mirrors your sigh and a small smile creeps onto his face
He’s grateful that he means so much to you; grateful that he can mean so much to someone. Despite himself, his heart swells with pride
Even when you are inches away from death, he feels like every memory can be a happy one as long as you’re in it.
Sebek Zigvolt
He sees you as an equal - and that’s saying something
He won’t admit it out loud but he feels less lonely for once, seeing that someone understands or at least respects him as much as you do
For once, he feels he can disconnect from his Malleus worship for a while and not feel like he’s betraying his trust
But when he hears news of you ending up in the hospital, he definitely feels a sharp pang of guilt pierce his chest; he’s betrayed your trust
He excuses himself from Malleus and apologizes profusely for willingly leaving his side for someone else, but he simply can’t abandon you
Malleus lets him go of course, even offers to tag along, but Sebek assures that Malleus is needed more where he is
His head rested in his hands while he laments in his transport, breathing heavily
It takes his all not to shout your name in search of your ward when he reaches the hospital; but he can no longer hold it back when his eyes land on you
“YUU…! YOU’RE… You have no idea…”
You wave to him as he runs to your side, tears at the corner of his eyes
You rub his back as he quietly sobs for a minute, even feeling like sobbing yourself at some point; this man holds so much love for you
You tell him why you summoned only him for now - the tears continue to stream but now he smiles and puts a hand to his head
How silly of him. Of course. How could he make such assumptions about your relationship? He could never betray you. Every moment only strengthens your trust in each other.
580 notes · View notes
tojisun · 4 months
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WIP: still your passenger (re: deftones)
simon ghost riley x gn reader
!! angst; canon-compliant // i rlly loved this one but writers block hit me bad every time i try completing it :< might pick it up one day (hopefully!!)
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there’s a new medic in the base – a pretty girl with a pretty smile, pretty eyes, pretty laugh. she’s beautiful, perfect with her auburn hair and her chestnut eyes; striking with her trimmed waist and sloping curves. 
you’ve only met her once when you needed an aspirin for your fever and never more after that, after all, there’s really not much of a reason for a base assistant like you to visit the station. so all that you’ve heard about her came from privates and base operators, greedy in the way they took in the sight she makes and how darling she looks. you can’t really blame them, not after seeing her; seeing how she is a beam of something soft and tender amidst their chaotic group.
it had been soap who started giving you the specifics.
her name’s erin, a lass hailing from yorkshire. the only family she’s got is a younger sister, anna, who is in university for astrophysics. 
“they’re a family of smart nuts,” johnny mused as he spun his shot of whiskey. “can you believe it? she’s pretty and wise.”
you oohed and aahed before telling him to remember to keep it in his pants because erin, beautiful and darling and gentle erin, is an important member of the squad. that she is necessary in the base; having been sought out for the very reasons that got johnny acting like a fool.
“of course i’ll keep it in!” johnny whined, bumping his head on the counter. “i don’t want to anger LT, y’know?”
cold dread washed over you upon hearing what he said, the quiet thrum of the alcohol being chased away by the slice of his words. you felt like bleeding, like you’ve been cut open and doused with ice, blistering chill creeping up from the softness of your lungs to your stuttering heart. 
“oh?” you remember asking, your voice startlingly void of emotions. “why would he be angry now?” your hands trembled and so you hid them from view, clenching them on your lap instead. 
johnny turned to you and quirked up a secretive smile. “why else?”
the weight of your grief pressed onto your chest, threatening to crack the columns of your ribs. you felt afloat, untethered, and you blinked back the sudden prickling you feel in the back of your eyes. 
you laughed with johnny, trying to smother the ache. trying not to drown in the harsh pools of your heartbreak.
because of course.
of course. 
you and simon are friends, but nothing more. nothing beyond the hushed voices and whispered ‘i’m glad you’re safe’ pressed onto each other’s cheeks because neither of you made things official anyway. no risks were taken, no promises to break. 
everything with him was just physical – chasing the cold nights away with the warmth of each other’s bodies pressed onto each other, fighting nightmares with each other's touches. 
sure simon cradled you in his tender embrace but that was all. just a temporary passion despite your everlasting yearning. 
“y’ready to go back to the base?” johnny asked and you said yes, another lie that dribbled from your trembling lips. because after that night, you knew that things were never going to be the same.
—————
ignoring simon was easy. it’s not like you needed to do much to avoid him, anyway, not with the way he was gravitating around erin. any other day it would have been laughable how simon followed her around like she’s got a bear of a man for her shadow but, well. seeing him be so taken by her makes you ache. 
the sparse moments he has that were sometimes spent with you were now overwritten by his visits to the facility where erin usually is. everyone who didn’t know that ghost was smitten over the new medic certainly knew now; he had long stopped making it a secret and instead, began to posture over those who tried pursuing erin. 
he was never a jealous man. that was until her, you guess.
and it’s not like you can fault erin for how simon acts, because could you blame him? could you blame anyone for that matter?
erin was, is, beautiful. she had a laugh that sounded like wind chimes and had a sparkle that perpetually made her eyes look brighter. she was soft even after seeing everyone’s troubles or their anger, always a beacon of tenderness amidst their bleeding wounds. but she was also fierce, a fighter with a bite that no one expected, but maybe you all should have because no one would ever survive being out in combat if one isn’t strong, anyway.
erin was, well, she was someone you knew simon needed in his life.
so, again, could you really blame him?
you have always known simon. you have always understood past his pretences – he wanted to settle. he wanted a life beyond the fight; wanted a family to come home to. 
he’s told you this so many times, hasn't he? murmured his wishes and desires at the top of your head as he cradled you in his arms, letting the exhaustion of the day bleed away from your pores as you shared a breath with him; he had waxed poetries for a distant future, one you have always thought you would have been a part of. 
one you thought you would have shared with him.
but you knew. despite your self-reassurances that you meant something to simon, you knew that when he envisioned his life, his future, it was one that did not include you.
it hurts, you thought to yourself as you pressed the back of your palms over your eyes. it hurts.
but how could it? how could you hurt over losing something that you never even had in the first place?
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violetsiren90 · 5 months
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Pairing: dom!Hoseok/sub/brat!f!Reader
Genre: Oneshot; hard smut (eventual fluff 😂); BDSM lifestyle; friends to fwb to?; canon-compliant (idolAU)
Summary: You've been friends with Hobi for years, and he's your comfort zone - but when he gets wind of a dark secret you drunkenly let slip, things between you take a sudden extreme change.
Warnings: 18+ (minors, dni); hardcore BDSM themes/relationships; full consent and safe-words ❤; Hobi is a hard dom; MC is a brat (mostly); dominance and submission; elements of primal play; sexual degradation (deg-play use of the word "b*tch"); mentions of MC's hair and hair pulling; rough physical contact in a sexual context (manhandling); mentions of drinking; kink-outing; Jimin is a menace lol; Hobi in the studio 👀 (The full oneshot will come with more specific warnings - a looooong list lol)
Mood board here! ⛓🖤
Release date: Christmas? 🎄
Author's note: Hey, y'all! I am catapulting out of my comfort zone with this one and, honestly, having the time of my life. I've been in my Hobi era lately and when the concept of dom!Hobi possessed my mind I knew I'd have to write it out or else. 😅😂 I hope to pop this under your trees around Christmas! Hope you enjoy the teaser, and as always, if no one has told you yet today, you are loved and worthy of love! 🧜‍♀️💜
Also, a big thank you to @orchidyoonkook for beta reading this - you are the real MVP! 💕
If you want to be alerted via the tag list for this when it drops, let me know!
_______________________________________________
  "What?" Hoseok's wide grin stretches further as he regards your flustered face with giddy anticipation.
    You groan into your hands, willing the cushions of your friend's leather couch to swallow you like quicksand.
    "Fucking Jimin - I'll kill him!" you whine, pressing your fingers to your temples, and keeping your eyes glued to the hardwood of the studio floor.
    The rapper laughs as he swivels his baseball cap to sit backwards on his fluffy brown mop of hair. 
    "Come on! Tell me!" he insists, sprawling back in his rolling chair, the tips of his fingers touching deviously together as he regards you with twinkling eyes. 
    You sneak a glance at him before sighing defeatedly, which only earns another chortle of laughter from across the room.
    Park fucking Jimin. You really were going to kill him. Too many bottles of soju the week prior saw you blacking out at the BTS member's pad, the one he shared with your mutual friend, Jung Hoseok. You woke up the next day, memories of the night before obscure concepts of debauchery merely alluded to by the taste of bile and the dull cranial throb of dehydration. When Jimin rather gleefully handed you, along with an iced americano, one of the booze-fueled revelations you had let slip, you begged and pleaded with him to erase the memory from his brain...or at the very least to take it to his grave. He made no such promises. And now, you are facing the man of the hour - the subject of your divulgement - who had apparently been informed that you harbored certain strong opinions in his regard. Humiliating.
    You flick mildly irritated eyes back up to your friend who waggles his brows in a way that makes you want to crack a smile and sock him at the same time.
    "Before I say anything, I want to know exactly what he told you," you demand, crossing your arms defensively, no cracked smile to be found.
    He rolls his eyes up to the corner of the ceiling in recollection.
    "He just said that you had gotten wasted and admitted something kinky...about me." 
    At the last two words he drops his voice dramatically low and pins you with a grin that is sickeningly predatory. Your pulse begins to hammer and you have to remind yourself that you are, in fact, capable of speech. Fuck, you think to yourself, it's happening. You can feel sweat starting to bead at your hairline. Maybe if you get it out there, just say it aloud, it will lose its power. Maybe the spell will be broken. Maybe he will laugh and you will laugh and you'll order lunch and keep irritating him while he's supposed to be working on a track. You're both adults, right? You whoosh out a breath. 
    Hobi is still looking at you, his bottom lip pushing up and the corners of his mouth tugging down in one of his little inverted smirks while his right leg bounces a little up and down. It is just Hobi, after all, you tell yourself. Just Hobi. You are roundly aware that it may be a lie, but it seems to allow you just enough courage to jump.
    "Okay, okay!" you practically shout, and he giggles and stomps his feet, which admittedly makes revealing this particular chestnut a bit easier.
    "I told him...I said..."
    "What?"
    "Oh, Christ! Fine!" And the rest comes out like water from a fire hose. "One time I came to drop off Jimin's charger and you were in dance practice and you were watching the guys and you had this look on your face - like you were pissed or something - and it was so unlike you and I got turned on and ended up having a fucking wet dream that you were stepping on my mother-fucking pussy, okay?! Are you satisfied now?!"
    You heave a sigh and throw yourself back against the cushions, hands over your face. How you just mustered the courage to form those actual words you haven't even the faintest notion - but it was going to be you or Jimin, and it might as well be you. After your heart has begun to return to its resting rate and you've heaved a few deep breaths you steel yourself against the certain impending onslaught of Hobi's laughter and general mockery...which doesn't come. You peek through your fingers to see that your friend has shifted in his chair, facing a bit away from you toward the inside of the room, leaning forward, his hands gripping the ends of the chair's armrests. His face looks a little troubled, or pensive, you can't tell which. You sit up and really look at him, suddenly worried. Did you just fuck things irrevocably up? That was an incredibly bizarre and intimate thing to admit. Shit.
    "Hobi?" you squeak, barely over a whisper, as you regard him.
    He tilts his head suddenly to look at you, quick like a bird, and when those dark eagle-eyes regard you in return, you feel like a small, helpless creature scurrying across the tundra. Nowhere to hide. A bead of sweat escapes its perch and slips down from your temple. As he utters his question of response, the air suddenly becomes as thick as the tropics.
    "Is that something that you'd want, Y/n? To be treated like that? To be...put in your place? Put down?"
    You don't answer him. You can't. Your words, your breath, your coherent thoughts are stuck, inert, useless as your chest begins to rapidly rise and fall in heavy swells. Your eyes are locked on his face as if by magnetic force. He stands, his baggy Louis Vuitton tee falling over his grey sweats. He shoves his hands in the pockets and takes a step toward where you sit. His posture is relaxed. His gaze is anything but.
    "Is it?"
    You want to say you don't know. That you'd never considered it again. Never once recalled the image of it - of him -  standing over you as the sole of his shoe punished your throbbing sex.
    "Fuck..." you breathe, and when he doesn't take his eyes from your squirming form, you relent. "...y-yeah."
    He takes another step toward you, slowly. He's crowding you now, as he looks down, and the proximity is almost more than you can bare.
    "You see," he remarks musingly, "I thought you were gonna say something funny - something ridiculous," he tilts his head to one side, the faintest hint of a smirk on his lips, "But that's not funny, Y/n. No, that's not funny at all. Because, as it turns out..."
    He leans down, his breath fanning over your face as he speaks. Mint and espresso. You shiver and close your eyes.
    "...that's something I can do."
...what? He can...h-he can....
    "Hoseok..." you whisper shakily, because it's all you can manage.
    You hear him laugh darkly and you don't look at him.
    "Hoseok?" he mimics, "Not, Hobi, huh? Hoseok when you're like this, is it?" 
    "When I'm like...what?" You practically whimper in complaint, eyes still pressed shut as your last line of defense.
    But any manner of defense is in vain as he answers your query, the words dripping from his lips slowly like honey, sickly like venom - 
    "When you're a filthy pathetic little slut."
    A whine escapes you at the complete and utter shock of his words. Suddenly you clamp your thighs together (to provide friction or obscurity to your quickly dampening cunt you are unsure), and that's when he takes your jaw between his fingers and roughly jerks your chin upwards, your eyes fluttering frantically open. 
    "Is this what you want?" he hisses, "For me to have my way with you like a needy whore?" Fuck, is this happening? This is really happening. Your mind reels, but that's alright - it stopped doing the thinking when he got up out of that chair. Something primal in you had taken over, something that's been starving for so long, something that longs to feed.
    You do your best to nod with your chin in his grip. He swallows thickly, his eyes darting to your lips, and then back up to yours. His pupils are blown, his eyes almost wholly black as they trace over your face. Suddenly his hand slips from your chin to the nape of your neck where his hand tangles in your hair and his head drops to the side, his gaze softening.
    "I need you to say it, Y/n, are you sure you want to do this?" he asks, his voice so, so low but without the edge that sends ice through your veins. His voice. He's asking you as someone who cares about you, cares what you want - your friend. Do you want this? No...you don't want it. You need it.
    "Yes - yes, Hobi - I want this," you find yourself stumbling over the words to get them out.
    So quickly and so assured. Have you ever been this certain of anything in your life? His fingers dance against the nape of your neck and you sigh as his eyes travel all over your body. You want to hide. You want to strip down. You want to run and you want him to chase you. You want him to punish you when he catches you. You are sick with want.  
    "A safe word, baby, we need a safe word," he nudges your racing mind back into the current moment with his words.
    You blink, your mind running up against the sudden saccharine pet name (which he has admittedly called you before) as it scrambles for something obvious and yet not ridiculous.     Something simple maybe...a flower...?
    "Foxglove," you say, and he raises his brows with a grin.
    "Foxglove it is," he acquiesces. "So if you ever want me to stop, ever - okay? You say that. Foxglove." 
    You nod.
    "Say it for me," he whispers, you shiver again. Fuck.
    "Foxglove." It's slow and thick leaving your mouth.
    "Good girl," he purrs. Butterflies erupt in your rib-cage and your eyelids flutter. "How hard do you want it?" He asks, "How rough?"
    You scramble to find your voice.
    "Pretty rough, I think," you posit, a bit unsure of what that means.
    He hums in response, his brows knitting in thought. You were going to have to give him something to go on, you could see that.
    "I..." you stammer, "I want you to...to punish me. I want you to...to hurt me a little."
    He raises a brow - looks at you, just stares as if considering. Then suddenly you know what to say.
    "See...I'm not a good girl," you insist tilting your head back a bit haughtily, a bit defiantly. Being a good girl had gotten you butterflies, but that's not what you wanted right now. That's not what every cell of your body was screaming for.
     He's grinning wickedly again - his other hand is slipping out of his pocket and the one in your hair is gripping at the roots.
    "Hm. You're not are you?" he asks, his voice as dark and cold as the Pacific once again.
    "No, Hobi," you whisper. And suddenly your world is tilted on its axis as he tightens his fingers against your scalp and yanks your head back, sending a searing pain shooting through your skin as he stoops to hiss in your ear.
    "That's Hoseok, you pretty little bitch."
    You let out a whimper so needy it's nearly a sob. Your heartbeat is pounding between your legs. He lets go of your hair as roughly as he grabbed it and goes to lock the door and your stomach flips - you are totally and completely at his mercy. It's a little bit terrifying and completely exhilarating. When he comes to loom over you again, you decide just exactly where you stand in all this. You know exactly what you want. You glare up at him. He narrows his eyes.
    "You gonna listen, hm?"
It's not a question, you know it's not - it's a command. But you have one, just one, of your own...
    "Make me."
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sixosix · 6 months
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THAWED | LYNEY X FEM!READER SERIES
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THAWED (MASTERLIST) — the lyney childhood-enemies-to-frenemies-to-lovers-kinda series that no one asked for, ft. fluff, a whole lot of bickering, flirting, and everything in between
STATUS. mostly updates on sundays
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OTHER INFO.
DISCLAIMER. will contain spoilers. this series will be as dark as genshin lore can be, and this won’t strictly follow genshin’s actual lore—i’ll be making up a lot of stuff for the sake of the fic so there will be inaccuracies, NOT CANON COMPLIANT!! there’s no previous director, the timeline of events will be vastly different. each chapter will have their own warnings as well, so keep an eye out for that!
NOTES. hello, everyone !!!!!!! welcome to my lyney series inspired by taylor’s reputation album. how it works is each chapter will be titled after each song off of the album as u can see below,,, hope u enjoy reading as excited i am for rep tv!! :D
tysm to naosaki and kruinka for helping me brainstorm w this fic (and also helping me when i was visibly all over the place because of this series) also kruin u owe me something remember that &lt;3
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CHAPTERS.
i — are you ready for it?
The House of the Hearth was perfect. This was where you thrived—where no one else could take this feeling away. But then Lynette became a part of the ‘family’, and with it, she dragged along Lyney.
ii — i don’t wanna hurt you (i just wanna be)
You look more like a soldier than an orphan, Lyney thinks. It’s beautiful in all the wrong ways.
iii — you gotta leave before you get left
Desperately, Lyney melts them away, but your footsteps have already gone out of earshot. It’s an answer in itself: Don’t bother. Take the hint, Lyney; you already messed it up.
iv — for you i would fall from grace
“What now? What do you want me to do? Strut back into their lives and demand all their Fatui secrets as if I never left?”
Aether nestles into his seat. “Prove to me that I can trust them just as much as you do. Who knows, you might get something out of this, too.”
v — you must like me for me
Lyney laughs. It sounds like music that has haunted you for years—and with a new one playing, it’ll torment you for years more. He loosens his grip but keeps you caged in, still. You’re twirled around to face him, and something about his expression has you swallowing thickly.
“You’re even more stunning than I remember, ma chérie.”
vi — look what you made me do
You frown at him, your face upside down in his view. “That was unfair.”
“I have to be if I want to beat you.”
vii — all eyes on you, my magician
He doesn’t take his eyes off you, even once when his fingers reached out to fish out a champagne flute. Lyney still has that stupid smile on his face, the rim of his glass against his lips. You’re hit with the startling realization that you want to kiss him.
Fuck, what?
viii — you’ve ruined my life, by not being mine
“You’re so warm,” you murmur to his skin.
Goosebumps blossom all over his body. Your face brushes against the side of his neck. “Do you hate it?”
“I like it. My hands are cold. Every part of you is warm.”
more chapter previews soon...!
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FANART !!!!!!
our favorite akagi0021 has been blessing me with THAWED fanart (!!!) and i decided that i need to compile all of them for me and to make YOU see the art as well... BECAUSE THEY'RE ALL SO GOOD (with permission of course)
CH 1 | reader's new outfit reveal
CH 2 | lyney doesn’t know how he looks at reader
lyney and MC height difference before and after AAAAGGGGGGGGGGHHH IM ON MY KNEES theyre so cute
CH 4 | aether and paimon confronting reader
bonus fanart of lyney and reader after training :(( so cute
CH 5 | lyney seeing reader!!!!!! aahhh his eyes
lyney as a kid and then lyney now (grown up) THIS ONE IS INSANE. little lyney is so adorable but then look at the lyney now… 😵😵
CH 6 | LOOK AT THIS ONE!! scene of lyney saying “she’s hiding something” except akagi made him unnecessarily sexy wtf
CH 7 | drunk reader driving lyney crazy... (i went crazy)
CH 8 | "lyney's not my boyfriend" ; the ending scene with childe, aether, and reader!! they all look so good T__T
++ ADDITIONAL!!!
and look at this so so so adorable collection of doodles of chapter six by sunny @emanami !!! her artstyle is to live for its SO cute (look at the siblings!!!)
look at @lacrimae-lotos's version of mc!!!! SO CUTE look at her piercings and her eyes aahhhh
akagi's art dump from different chapters | theyre all so cutue im sobbing i love akagis mc and lyney so much T__T (LYNEY BRAIDING MC'S HAIR)
++ LOOK AT AKAGI'S VERSION OF MC! shes so lovely
design headcanons (theyre all so precious)
akagi's reader as a genshin char !!
reader's outfit for chapter seven SO PRETTY
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TAGLIST.
@thenyxsky @aeferkssr @1mewo1 @lacrimae-lotos @meigalaxy @hyacinth-daze @miwafei @popochakku @svasilios @heyhazelnut101 @kruinka @waveto-earth @superstar-ethereal @mxplesyrvp @achilleas-dream @episodecete @jellifizz @auranny @motherscrustytoenailclippings @lovelyevil @iawaaaaaaa @rionah @esmetrees @cherryig @kzhwaif @mystiquemare @unknownlolol @sanluvssu @blvdmrcnry  @kascar-chronicle @idontevenknow129 @tarathecogsci @lunavixia @beaniedoodz @wendolrea @avalordream @egoistars @rains-mae @magnificentfireball @poemzcheng @fiannee @ask-kurayami-akura @sc4rlett-letter @xxxion @wangshuu @deathkat657 @powchakko @beasalmeh, and many more!
just ask through my inbox!!! and make sure that people can tag you pls!!
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© SIXOSIX 2023. all rights reserved. do not repost or reproduce any part of this work.
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gummyfang · 1 year
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♡♡♡ |   ˗ˏˋ TOO CLOSE FOR COMFORT  ´ˎ˗
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➳ 【 S i m o n ‘G h o s t’ R i l e y x Reader 】
❧ Warnings: 𝟏𝟖+, 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭, 𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰, 𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐛 / 𝐠𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐯, 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐥, 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐞, 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤
[ 𝟑.𝟒𝐤 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 ]
[ REQUEST BY ANON ] On my knees and requesting respectfully a jealous Ghost fic cos I just wanna be manhandled by that giant behemoth of a man. Just throw me against the wall and break my back daddy 💦😭 
𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: sneef sneef i actually interp him as a v soft dom or sub but i cant say im not a rough ghost enjoyer on occasion. also this is not a canon-compliant fic don’t come at me im just here for a good time. ft keegan bc i wanted to add him. this kinda sucks lol.
𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 ♡
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It wasn’t like you ever purposely set out to make Simon envious of the men you spoke with.
It was just that, as you’d learned, your Lieutenant was a lot more prone to envy than anyone could have predicted.
When the two of you had spent your first night together and officially gotten together, you and Simon had made the mutual decision to keep your relationship on the down low. Considering Simon was technically your superior at work, you two didn’t want to get into problems with your jobs due to a lack of professionalism. 
That, and Simon was not a man who enjoyed attracting much social attention to himself anyways. He loathed the potential buzz that a new relationship on base would spark, and decided it would be better to announce somewhere later along the line.
This, however, came with one very obvious problem.
You were attractive.
Your good looks were not the issue by themselves. Simon could not deny he reveled in how handsome you were when you gave him one of your loving stares, and how pretty you looked beneath him when he fucked you stupid.
No, the problem was that your attractiveness did not go unnoticed to other men either.
All Simon could do was let the simmering sting of jealousy stew in his chest as he watched you talk to Keegan. You seemed to be blissfully unaware of the ways in which Keegan’s gaze lurked over your form, like a dog salivating at the sight of a steak. But Simon noticed. He sure as fucking hell noticed.
“Good job during training today. Your form is getting better.” 
The flirtatious undertone of the compliment clearly went over your head, as you just chuckled and thanked him. Simon’s grip on his own crossed arms hardened considerably, earning him some nervous looks.
He was leering at the two of you with a thunderous gaze, the atmosphere practically rumbling with tension. It was starting to become apparent how much this bothered him, some of the soldiers sitting near him sharing concerned but equally confused glances. 
If Simon was being honest with himself, he’d probably realize Keegan’s attraction wasn’t as predatory as he was making it out to be in his mind. You’d been friends with the man for months, and you’d been getting along with him very well long before you entered your relationship with Simon.
But the Lieutenant was not being honest with himself, and he couldn’t give less of a damn whether Keegan wanted to propose to you with flowers or just herd you into his bed. His attraction to you was clear as fucking day, and there was nothing Simon could do to stop it without drawing attention to your relationship status.
Lieutenant Ghost was a man of terrifyingly strong control.
And yet, he felt all that control slip from his iron grasp as he watched Keegan extend his hand as he laughed, his fingers intently tracing over your hip.
With that, his patience snapped like a tightly-strung rope. He rose to his feet with an aura so threatening it would make any hostile think twice before approaching him.
Keegan’s steel gaze turned icy as it moved from you to the Lieutenant’s hulking figure behind you. The corners of your mouth dropped slightly as you noticed the abrupt change in Keegan’s demeanor, before feeling the cold zipper of an open jacket brush against your neck. You turned around, faced with your boyfriend’s chest that was practically in your face right now.
“You are needed in my office.”
For a moment, you thought Ghost was talking to Keegan. It was only because he placed his hand firmly on your shoulder that you knew he was talking to you. The two men were locked in what appeared to be a staring match. You swallowed thickly as the tense, uncomfortable atmosphere became more noticeable to you, prickling at your skin.
Finally, it was Keegan who relented, his gaze moving down. “See you later then.” he said, voice devoid of the playful edge it was filled with earlier. He gave you and Ghost one last wary glance, before heading off to a group of people in the corner.
You watched him leave, slightly baffled, before feeling Simon’s iron grip pull you away.
You eyed him with confusion and slight annoyance. Simon, on the other hand, was staring straight ahead, refusing to look at you as he pushed you along. You had never seen him act like this.
“What’s all this about?!” you hissed in a hushed tone. “We’re being stared at!”
You didn’t receive a response. Whatever he had on his mind, he was too focused on it to pay you any mind right now.
Things became even more confusing when he headed straight past the door to his shared office, your brow furrowing even deeper now. “Lieutenant?” you tried, a hint of concern laced in your voice. 
Suddenly, the grip on your shoulder moved down to grasp at your wrist instead, large hands clamping down around your flesh. It didn’t hurt, Simon always had the wits not to hurt you, but his grip was still unrelentingly tight. With his other hand, he unlocked the door to his private room, dragging you in with him. 
Before you could question him any further, he’d ripped off his mask and hungrily sunken his lips against yours.
Your hands froze at your sides, too shocked to respond as his tongue aggressively pushed at your lips. Sighing out a quiet moan, you opened your mouth, met with the overwhelming feeling of Simon wrapping his tongue around yours. 
Simon rumbled out a low groan as you finally started to regain control of your senses, your hands finding their way to the back of his neck. You held onto fistfuls of his hair, tugging at it lightly as his tongue danced with yours feverishly.
You managed to break away after a few minutes of his hurried and rough kisses, only for him to possessively start teething at your neck. 
“Simon…” you mewled, head tipping back to grant him more access. You were so confused but god, you didn’t mind this. Simon was usually incredibly careful and gentle with you. This was new. 
You grabbed onto his shoulders shakily, stabilizing yourself as Simon continued his merciless onslaught on your skin. You sucked in a breath when you felt him teeth at your neck, switching between feverish licks, harsh sucks and bites. You definitely knew that was going to bruise.
“Si, they’re- fuck- people are gonna see that!” you breathed out, tapping him on his side. “Good.” his deep voice rumbled in response, the first word he’d uttered to you since you left with him. His voice had an uncharacteristically dark edge to it, at least when it came to you. “Maybe that’ll keep those fuckers off of ya next time.”
Your eyes widened slightly. Oh.
It was only then that the quarter fell in your mind. Not once in the short month you’d been together had it occurred to you that Ghost was capable of jealousy, much less one to act on it. 
Honestly, you felt a little bad for him. Not that you really could have done anything about it, the idea to keep your relationship hidden was Simon’s idea and mutually agreed upon. But you honestly hadn’t considered how it was possibly affecting him. 
Still, you were pretty sure you knew how to make that up to him right now.
Besides, it wasn’t like you hadn’t imagined what it would be like if Simon fucked the living hell out of you before.
You hiked up one of your legs intently, hooking it around his as you hung off his body. You’d hike it up to his hip if you could, and you sure as hell tried, but God, were you reminded of how Simon easily towered above you in moments like this.
Nonetheless, he seemed pleasantly responsive to your advance. His hand found its way to the small of your back, fingers digging into your skin so harshly you were sure they would leave light flushed marks.
You could feel his prominent, rock-hard erection prod against your belly. Your hands slid down, fingers circling around his belt slowly and gently. Your fingernails dug themselves against his toned stomach, crescent-shaped marks glaring right above the place he wanted your hands most. Simon did not seem to reciprocate the slow, patient teasing you were trying to coax him into. You sucked in a sharp breath as you felt his thick thumbs roughly force their way past the waist of your pants, roughly tugging at the material. Then it stopped. You blinked, looking up at Simon, realizing he was staring straight back at you. He was a damn sight to behold. His balaclava had been roughly tugged down to pool around his neck, revealing those pretty swollen lips and that sexy stubble he usually kept obscured. You could see a dimly glistening trail of spit trailing down from the corner of his lip, undoubtedly due to the tilted angle he’d been ravaging your neck at. He didn’t move his hands, his head instead inching a little closer. “You can tell me to stop.” he responded in that gruff tone, lust dragging his voice down by at least an octave. 
“You can tell me to stop, or that you don’t want this, and we can stop. But if you don’t-” His grip tightened on your trousers, the pull of the fabric drawing you in closer. “-I will have my way with you.” Fuck. Even when he wanted to do nothing but jump you and rail you until your legs gave out, he still waited for your word without fail. You felt a wave of arousal pool between your legs intensely, your clit throbbing gently at the dark promise rumbling in your ear. Your eyes were almost glazed over as you just stared back at him for a moment, puffy breaths seeping out through parted lips. “You may, please-” Your plea had only barely tumbled off your lips when Simon crashed his own on them again. Wasting no time getting down to business, those thumbs hooked around the waist of your pants were yanked down, taking the fabric down with them. Your underwear soon followed, all while his tongue was still firmly pressed against yours. 
Simon wasn’t kidding when he said he’d have his way with you. You felt his large hands clamp around your sides like a vice, bending and molding you to his liking as if you were clay. His mouth began its second onslaught on your sensitive neck and shoulders, this time biting from the back.
You felt him twist you around, effortlessly as if you were a doll, his left hand leaving your waist to clamp around your wrists instead. You were at his mercy, and the thought made the slick sensation between your folds even more apparent. 
It was as if Simon read your mind. The hand that had momentarily remained on your waist trailed down quickly, your shirt curling under his fingers as he kept them pressed tightly against your body. 
Simon was a man who enjoyed taking his time with you, most of the times he’d have sex with you being preceded by extensive foreplay, but he was in no such mood right now. 
His index and middle finger dipped down smoothly, squeezing your clit between them just perfectly. Your mouth opened in a quiet gasp as you instinctively pressed your body into his chest, though the grasp on your wrists ultimately held you in place firmly. 
The pressure on your clit was rough, deliciously so. His movements were swift and controlled as he rubbed up and down just perfectly, fingers occasionally dipping down to prod at your entrance before sliding back up. “Simon, oh God, mmmf…”
You whimpered, your head leaning against his shoulder for any semblance of support. “‘S that good?” The bass of his voice rumbling in your ear made you shudder, swallowing thickly.
“Yeah, mm… Simon… Simon-” His name drifted off your lips in broken moans and whines, and the Lieutenant absolutely reveled in it. He was the only one who would ever get to hear you moan his name like this, only his name.
“Could anyone else touch you like this? God, you’re so fucking wet for me. All for me.” He growled possessively. This time when his hand slid down, they encircled your hole before plunging in fully without warning.
You whined quietly as you felt his thick digits curl against your g-spot expertly, filling you up nicely and leaving no room for small casual pleasantries. He plunged in harshly with a grunt, and you let out a loud moan. “Speak up.”
“Jus’ you. Only you, Si- God.” Your boyfriend kept ramming his digits into your cunt at a merciless rate, as your breaths started to come out in high-pitched whines and pants. He peered at you through the holes of his skull-shape mask still resting on his face. Simon reveled in watching you lose your composure and whimper like a bitch in heat for all the ways in which he could make you feel good.
“I can’t understand you when you sound like that.” Your glazed eyes snapped open, looking up at him as he looked at you darkly. Fuck, he was enjoying toying with you.
“You’re th’ only one. The only one. Nobody else. Nhh… Si… only one who can make me feel s’good…” 
You were struggling to think straight, struggling to form a cohesive sentence as the loud squelching of Simon’s fingers abusing your pussy echoed off the walls. Your head lurched forwards with a loud breathy moan as he changed his angle, somehow hitting your G-spot even more precisely.
You looked back at him, lust clouding your vision as your voice lowered to a more devious tone.
“Keegan could never… make me feel like this…” Instantly, the movements inside you stopped, his fingers stilling inside of you and his other hand finally releasing your wrists. For a second, you thought you fucked up royally and actually hit a nerve. 
This was not the case. Quite the opposite, in fact. 
You heard aggressive rustling and the rumble of a zipper being undone. You tried looking back at him but gasped when you felt his hand clamp down on the back of your neck, torso pressed firmly against the wall. 
His other hand quickly pulled out of you, instead roughly realigning your hips to be further back. The whimper humming softly in your throat suddenly burst out as a loud squeak as the feeling was soon replaced with that of his weeping tip prodding at your cunt, his erect cock pushing its way between your folds.
Simon roughly shoved his way inside, hand roughly keeping you from instinctively lurching forwards. His warm breath puffed against your ear with rumbling grunts as he pushed himself in deeper, until his pelvis was pressed snugly against your ass.
The man did not give you much time to adjust to his girth before starting to move. Not that you needed much time after the rough way in which he had prepared you with his fingers. 
By now, the slick was generously coating your walls, lubricating your hot cunt enough for Simon’s cock to slip in and out effortlessly.
Your mouth fell agape, your cheeks flushed as you struggled to keep your wobbly legs from collapsing, Simon’s rough and fast thrusts throwing you off balance. But nothing slipped past Ghost, you soon remembered, as you felt his tattooed muscular arm clamp around your middle harshly to keep you stable.
You quickly lost control over your volume, whines and whimpers steadily turning into loud and broken. This was usually where Simon would shush you, shove his fingers into your mouth or kiss you. But not this time. “You’re so fucking loud… Fuck, you love this, don’t you?” he growled into your ear, adjusting his pace until he was brutally pistoning his dick into your cunt, his balls audibly smacking against your skin.
“God… you fit so fucking perfectly around this cock. Your pussy was made for this cock.” Simon was usually not one for dirty talk, the words leaving an odd and cringeworthy taste in his mouth after he’d say them. But he couldn’t stop himself, his brain just rolling out the word vomit to subject you to like an assembly line.
You sure as hell weren’t going to complain.
“Simon, fuck- Fuck! Please, just like that. I need- I need you.”
The consistency of his thrusts faltered at that, something that almost sounded like a whimper erupting from his throat. 
A drop of sweat rolled down your forehead as your eyebrows scrunched together, starting to feel the familiar knot in your stomach tightening. Your boyfriend fingering you had already gotten you halfway there, and with the pace at which he was drilling into you you weren’t going to last much longer.
“C’mon, love. My name- let them know. They can all fucking know. Please. I need them to know who’s fucking you. Please…”
He groaned loudly as his hips stuttered, unable to resist you. Goddamn you. You could metaphorically get him to his knees even when he was fucking you against a wall like he wanted to wreck you.
You whimpered, tongue swiping over your lips before obliging him. “Simon- mmm, Simon…” You were hesitant, your boyfriend’s wishes upon establishing your relationship ringing in your mind. But the rough smack you got to your hip told you he couldn’t give less of a fuck right now. “Simon, fuck- God, Simon! Simon!” His name continued to tumble off your lips like a mantra, each thrust into your spongy cunt leaving you less able to think. He was the only thing on your mind, just Simon, only he could fuck you like this. Finally, the coil that had been building came undone accompanied by a loud scream of his name. Your pussy clenched harshly around him as you came on his cock. You were goddamn grateful Simon was holding you up right about now, as you were sure you would have sunken to the floor had it not been for his arm keeping you secure.
The feeling of you clenching around his dick finally sent Simon over the edge too. He let out the most delicious guttural groan as his movements stuttered for one final time, cock quivering before shooting his seed deep inside of you. 
He continued to sloppily fuck his cum into you a few more times before his movements stilled completely, stabilizing himself against the wall with his hand. A silence fell over the two of you as you just took a moment to catch your breaths, Simon’s other hand rubbing over your stomach almost apologetically. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence by any means, but it was also one filled with the realization that there was no way nobody had heard you. 
It wasn’t going to be long before everyone knew who the Lieutenant had been fucking in his room.
“Si, I gotta- I gotta sit.” you finally broke the silence. He responded quickly, pulling out of you with a shaky breath before guiding you to his bed, helping you sit down as he took off his mask and placed it on his nightstand. He eyed your cunt, gently reaching down to half-heartedly shove some of his oozing cum back into your pussy. You whined softly, but didn’t have the energy to do anything else, instead just leaning against his chest. “You sure you don’t mind?” you whispered, fingers tracing the dark lines of his tattoo gently. Simon just grunted.
“It was bound to come out sooner or later.” he said gruffly. “I was growing real sick of it anyway. About time those shitbirds learned you’re spoken for.” You chuckled softly, wrapping an arm around his waist to sleepily tug him into a hug. “You found one hell of a way for them to find out, though. Fucking hell, Si.”
That earned you a gruff chuckle from your boyfriend, who started to guide you to lie down with him on the bed and pulled you tighter against his chest. His lips gently pressed to your forehead as you closed your eyes, the finger drawing figures on his arm slowly coming to a halt as you dozed off in his arms.
You’d both deal with the consequences of this in the morning.
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Pinglist:
@rahmown​ (ty for being the first and only one so far <33)
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xxsabitoxx · 6 months
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Pale Blue Part 2 TEASER
Geto Suguru x Pregnant Reader
Warnings: this fic IS CANON COMPLIANT, if you have not caught up to the "gojo's past" arc in the manga or anime, you will be spoiled. This teaser does not contain anything more than kissing and suggestive moments between reader and suguru
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Flashback~
“Did you really mean what you said last week?” You set your pen down, looking across your room to see Suguru sitting at your desk. You were both working on different assignments but still wanted to spend time together. “Hmm?” Suguru set his own pen down, turning his body to look at you where you sat on your own bed. “About… ya know… wanting to get me pregnant.” You watched a shy smile pass over Suguru’s face as he sighed. “Yeah… I meant it.” He started softly, hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. You had to chuckle at the fact that Suguru had stuffed an extra pen through his bun, just in case the other died while writing. “I guess you could say I have baby fever.” 
“Baby fever, huh?” you teased, putting your notebook to the side as you did. “Yeah, baby fever. I just… fuck I don’t know it’s been a thought on my mind for a while now. I keep seeing these happy families, their small children giggling and playing and… I started daydreaming about what it would be like to be a father. When I envisioned our baby, fuck my heart just melted.” he sighed, face turning a little red before he continued on. “I started thinking about how cute you’d look pregnant, how cute you’d be as a mom. How sweet it would be to hear their little voice calling you mama.” Your lips parted, completely entranced by the world he was painting you. 
“Suguru.” you stated rather bluntly, smiling as his head shot up to look at you. At some point in his rambling, he had begun staring into space, as if envisioning the things he talked about. “Y-yeah?” You laugh softly, crawling off your bed and crossing the small space until you stand before him. “Come here.”  You smile, hands gently cupping his cheeks and forcing his head to look up at you. “ I love you so much.” You started softly, thumb gingerly brushing along the plains of his cheekbone. Suguru swallowed, brown eyes observing every inch of your face. “I love you too.” He breathed, subconsciously leaning into your touch. “If you’re serious, if you truly want a baby…”
“I do.” 
Your lips parted before you smiled brightly, giggling a bit at his instant reassurance. “... then I am more than willing to try and conceive.”  You hadn’t intended for it to come out so seductive, but the way Suguru’s breathing hitched told you it had a dual effect. “Really?” You nodded, thumb still gently caressing his cheeks. “I know we’re young and all, but I think there is no time better than the present to chase your dreams.” You snorted at your own cheesiness, laughing as Suguru’s arms came around your waist to hug you tightly. “Thank you.” his voice was soft, just above a whisper. “You know, I have to ask, Suguru… especially since you seemed to put a ton of thought into this.” 
“Yeah? Anything. Ask away.” You reached up and tugged the pen out of his bun, fingers moving to delicately pull his hair out of the bun itself. You always enjoyed it when he had his hair down. “What was the moment that made you realize it was more than just a desire, that it was something you actually wanted. I know you said you saw families and all that but… you’re a man of purpose. Something in particular egged you on and I’m dying to know what.” From the way his cheeks turned red, you knew you had hit the nail on the head. He wasn’t lying about the baby fever, but you knew him too well to know that it wasn’t just an accumulation of events. 
One thing in particular had been his “breaking point” of sorts. 
“Alright you caught me.” he sighed deeply, eyes glancing away from you before looking up again. “Remember that weekend I went home to visit family?” You nodded, hands sliding down to rest on his shoulders. Suguru’s arms opened, allowing you to climb onto his lap as he spoke. “Well, my cousin had just had her baby a few weeks prior. Since she knew I was coming home to visit for the weekend, she came over with her new baby to introduce us.” You nodded again, humming thoughtfully as you twirled some of his hair around your fingers. “I don’t think I’ve ever held a baby before.” He added, cheeks a rosy pink instead of flaming red. 
“And when she put that little baby in my arms I… fuck I just melted.” 
He swallowed, finding it endearing that you were so invested in every word he spoke. “I just remember thinking that… there was nothing more special than that bond. The bond between mother and child… between father and child. I found myself imagining what it would be like to hold my own newborn… and I was serious when I said every time I envisioned it, they always looked like you.” He relaxed a bit when you leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek before pulling away again. “That’s a beautiful reason, you know.” You hugged him after saying it, letting your chin rest on his shoulders as his arms encompassed your waist and squeezed. 
“I want to be a dad, I’ve known that from the very moment I held that baby. But I… if you aren’t ready… I don’t want to force you to do anything.” The vulnerability in his voice made your heart squeeze, it was very rare that Suguru was openly shy about something. “No time better than the present, ya know.” You whispered it again, feeling his breath stutter as you spoke. “Really?” he breathed out again, as if in disbelief that you were saying yes despite already agreeing once before. You nod, trying to contain your smile. “It’s not like it’ll happen right away, it takes time. Most couples have to try for a while before they strike gold.” 
“I guess that is true, there are a lot of factors that go into this… it’s a miracle that women are even able to conceive in the first place when you truly look at it.” you felt yourself giggling, finding it cute that Suguru had clearly put some research into this whole idea too. He wanted it, so bad, you couldn’t bear the thought of not trying to give it to him. “So… what do you say, shall we start now?” you pulled away from his hug, grinning deviously at him. “Right now?” Suguru looked shocked, eyes wide and lips slightly parted before he was able to collect his thoughts. “Yeah, right now.” studies could wait, of course they could. Suguru knew that just as well as you did. 
Suguru answered you with a kiss, lips melting against your own as his hands clung to your waist. 
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sophswritingthings · 5 months
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explosive - hazel callahan 
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pairing: hazel callahan x forfem!cheerleader!reader
warning(s): no warnings, actually! it’s just really fluffy <3 swearing, tho!
tropes: fluff, friends to lovers, sort of canon compliant, first kiss
summary: hazel’s had a crush on you forever. and it really comes to a boiling point when you and the girls go to tp and egg jeff's house. and when she, y'know, set offs a bomb.
a/n: was hazel knowing how to make a bomb hot…….. or was that just me?
word count: 1,144 words / 6,176 characters
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hazel was watching you from afar; her eyes trailing up and down your figure. your cute, graphic tee to your lazy comfy sweatpants; which, she only knew your wore when you wanted to get messy. since, you only ever wore them during your art class. 
“hazel, your fucking staring her down,” pj glared at the girl beside her. “you're such a stalker.”
“I— i am not!” hazel hissed back, “I’m… gonna go work on that bomb now.”
meanwhile, you were sort of watching her too. the way her eyes creased together into somewhat of an angry look; but you didn’t think you'd ever seen hazel callahan truly angry. 
that was besides the point.
you thought she was adorable, to which, she was. 
and those thoughts were now dragging you toward jeff's car, where hazel was slipped under. her marked up convers were hanging out from the top of the car.
“hey, hazel.”
the car almost jerked up, and you heard a “fuck” from under the car. you couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight, though you did wonder if she was okay. 
“you okay, hazel? I didn’t mean to spook you. probably should have thought about that before I came up on someone under a car, huh?” you chuckle in response.
“I-it’s fine,” she says from under the car, her voice choked up. she was nervous, and her face was best red—glad that it was hidden under the body of the car. 
“you sure?” you cock your head, bending down to be sat on your knees. “that sounded kinda painful.”
hazel hums a little, “mm-hm!” in a response. she slides out from under the car for a moment. she wanted to see your beautiful face, even if hers was currently covered in soot and ash.
and even if it was beat red.
than a loud, shrill beep sounded from under the car.
“um, hazel, is that something we should be concerned about——“
out of instinct, she grasps your hand tight. she pulls herself to her feet, as well as you, and begins to charge for their “getaway” car. she slides into the backseat, pulling you in beside her.
after a few seconds, you feel her hand still clasped around yours. It made your heart beat a million miles a minute, her rough, coarse hands rubbing against yours. In comparison, yours were small and soft. holding a hand like hazel's felt…
… nice.
a few moments later, you feel those same hands covering your ears, pulling your head close to the crook of her neck. instead of covering her own ears, she covered yours, as if you didn’t have the hands to do so.
she was so cute. so thoughtful…
you two were, as of now, in the car alone. despite the damn bomb going off; the girls still hadn’t hopped back in the car, hadn’t driven away.
that left you alone with a hot girl you had a crush on. 
and you were pretty sure she liked you, too.
“so,” you gently nudge your knee against hazel’s. “how the hell do you know how to make a bomb?” you scoff, glancing at her with a playful expression.
“Its… not that hard,” she laughs, looking bashful as ever. “not like I’m some child genius.”
“still impressive,” you nudge your knee against her's again, causing her to look up at you, “learn that in robotics, or somethin’?”
she shrugs, “um, the mechanics of the it, sure,” hazel clears her throat. “rest online…”
“it’s.. it’s. yeah, it’s cool.” you smile softly. you gaze at her, maybe for a moment too long, your eyes locked together. “hazel… I… um—“
your words are cut off. 
the rest of the girls slide into the car. 
two more slide into the back, isabel and brittany. they pressed the two girls closer together, your thigh pressed gently against hazel’s. it made you blush, sure, but—it felt good. It felt… right.
you and hazel glance at each other, laughing softly. it’s a knowing laugh. you know what you were going to say; and you hoped you'd get the chance to finish it later. It was hazel's car that they were driving in, after all. they'd have to drop isabel and brittany off, drop pj off, let josie drive herself home than—
—it would be just you two.
twenty minutes of driving later and it’s just the two of you. you’ve moved into the drivers and passengers seat, the only sound between you two for a moment is the sound of the heater in hazel’s car rumbling to keep you warm in the cold weather.
“.. I have a feeling you knew what I was gonna say.. don’t you?” you chuckle, your cheeks bright red as you gaze out the windshield in front of you.
“.. I-I could guess,” hazel murmurs, her fingers tapping against the leather steering wheel. “because I kind wanted to say it, too.”
you pause. you had a feeling that it was reciprocated, but god to hear it out loud…
“well, than..” you whisper, “good to know.”
hazel chuckles, “yeah.. that’s pretty good to know.”
you laugh right back, realizing how stupid your words actually sounded.
you grab your purse as the car comes to a stop outside your large house. you open the passengers door, stepping outside the car.
and, unsurprisingly, hazel has followed you.
“so,” your eyes trail up her body, landing on her beautiful blue eyes. “could I say it’s pretty evident that i’d really like to kiss you right now?”
“you.. could say that.” hazel murmured, resting a hand on your cheek. she began to lean down, considering your height difference. her lips where inches from yours. “can I—“
before she gets to finish her question, you gently press your lips against hers. they’re warm; and taste almost like a hint of vanilla lipgloss. 
It was good. It was all so good. It felt like your insides were exploding, from the idea. your stomach squirming, your hands twitching on the back of hazel’s neck—which, you were sure she could feel.
when you pulled back, you took in a little gasp of air.
“a date, than?” you prompt, smiling. “how does tomorrow sound?”
“tomorrow?” her eyes light up at the thought. she didn’t think you’d wanna go on a date with her that soon. “sounds perfect. I—I’ll come and pick you up?”
“amazing,” you nod your head, giving her a smile and a wave over your shoulder as you walk toward your house. 
she watched as you slipped inside, leaning against her car with her arms folded. the idea that such an amazing girl would like… her? the loser masc lesbian is who nobody talked to?
the idea was foreign to her.
yet here you were, kissing her and asking her on a date. 
it was all so… amazing, to her.
she couldn’t wait. not one second.
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hanetea · 2 months
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Flowers in the winter
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Summary: 6 months of the year I am technically married to Satoru Gojo; and the other 6 months, well... I still am married to him. Word count: 2.6k CWs: Teen!Gojo, he's a warning in itself..., Timid!reader, Reader!POV Canon compliant till I say so, rom-com, slow-burn, how slow? maybe like 3 chapters slow, fluff, angst, eventual smut, no beta, mildly edited This is part 2 (you can find part one here > part 1 )
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“I’m sorry” I sniffled as I heard nothing but laughter for mistaking the other person at the end of the line for someone other than himself. But who could blame me!
“How can you, married for two years by the way, not even recognize the sound of my voice anymore? Was 2 years not enough for you?” his laughter finally dying down, and all I could do was to swallow how much this man was just enjoying my perfectly understandable reaction. 
“But for us it barely was two years huh” he says sighing, finally able to breathe after laughing. I pinch my arm a little. I mean after all he was right, it was barely 2 years, hell it was probably only just 6 months of us together.
“Heh, why are you quiet? Cat got your tongue?” but it's moments like these that I wish it was less than 6 months.
“Sorry sorry, I’ll stop teasing” he chuckles as if reading my mind. I pout as I bring my knees closer to my chest. Since he called me he should be able to tell me where to go right? Maybe even pick me up at the train station… I could hear a hearty sigh on the other line. “ so, you're coming tomorrow?” He's going to at least give me an address as to where jujutsu high is right?
“Yes” I said, twirling my hair between my index and thumb. ‘Please tell me where to go-’
“Great! I’ll see you then-” “WAIT!” 
There was a pause of silence between us. Me letting my nerves get the best of me, and unintentionally cutting him off mid sentence. Embarrassment creeps into my cheeks as I try to bury myself with a fistful of my hair, bringing it to the front of my face. I should’ve just asked through text or something.
‘Ahhhh I want to diee’
Gojo clears his throat, breaking the silence. “What’s wrong?” he says in a completely oblivious tone, which only made me more nervous on what to say. 
I try to collect myself breathing slowly so that I can get my words across,
“Um, Gojo, so about Jujutsu tech…” I start but my mouth just shuts on its own, 
“Gojo Satoru is not a kind man”
My mothers warning rings in my head, and my palms start getting sweaty by the second. ‘I should be more polite’ I thought, still trying to find the words to say but before I could add more he gives me a big ‘Ah!’ making me jump a little from the sudden noise.
“Yea! The admission wasn't that bad, though you know that the elders were being such a big pain about it.” he gave a loud sigh to exaggerate how much he hated it, which made me smile, this man does not like being bossed around. 
“Yknow what's crazy tho?” his voice suddenly hushed as if trying to not let anybody hear “there's only 3 students in my class” which gains a small gasp from me “i-including you?” I whisper back. In the same hush tone that he was using, “Including me!” he responds back, I can't even begin to imagine a class of 10 people, how much more just 3? With yourself included? And the worst of it is that you’re classmates with Gojo….
‘I feel bad for them…’ A whole year with him… I can't even begin to imagine how that would be, without missing a beat Gojo fills my silence with little stories of his time at jujutsu high.
“The campus is HUGE! It's very traditional in terms of architecture but I think you already know that.” He continues to ramble, Gojo can really carry the conversation with just himself, and honestly it's comforting to know that he won't get mad if I stay quiet. However…
“Um, sorry Gojo but to be honest,” Gojo turns quiet in the other line, I swallow what timidness I had to get my words across, feeling that the man on the other side is also going to listen to me. “I’ve never been to jujutsu high, o-or know where it is” I finally put out. Gojo still stays silent in the other line which makes me hope he didn't take offense. “...you’ve never been there?” he says softly which makes me embarrassed
‘Was I supposed to know?’ I bite my lip
“M-my mom doesn't really tell me about jujutsu society…” with every word that escapes, the quieter it becomes. Growing up I’ve been told that women have no place in jujutsu society. And my mom reaffirms this belief by raising me as a normal girl as much as possible. Since a woman’s role is to be a wife to her husband, I was kept in the dark about anything that revolves around jujutsu. 
‘I only know some things because it involves Gojo…’ but now I’m starting to think I should know a little bit more, just to keep up with his life… He is at the center of it after all…
“Is that so?” his voice rings clear, in a span of a few months, Gojo’s voice changed. I wonder what he looks like now? This is no longer the Gojo Satoru that I knew a year ago. Will he be disappointed that I, his wife, didn't change at all? Will I be tossed aside, the older we get?
“I can pick you up, which station are you going to?” I shook my head trying to rid of my thoughts that was occupying my head 
“M-my ticket is for Asakusa station, but I can catch a train to whichever is more convenient for you-” he giggles at the other end, confusing me as I don't really know what he found funny “no that’s fine I'll pick you up there.” His voice is so gentle, it almost made my heart leap out of my chest. I can't let myself misunderstand, Gojo didn't mean anything about it. 
“Thank you” I say, barely a whisper, twiddling my toes trying to warm them up  “No worries.” he hummed in response. My shoulders relaxed, as I let go of the breath that I didn't know I was holding. Gojo, despite his obvious status, was very different from the other male authorities that I have the displeasure of knowing in Jujutsu society. He wasn't someone to hold his authority above you unless provoked. Even though we aren't the typical couple, where mutual feelings isn't the thing keeping us together, but societal pressure. I'm happy that we are different from a typical jujutsu marriage. It’s comfortable,
“Gojo Satoru is not a kind man”
But I'm okay that it's him that I have to be with.
“Goodnight (y/n), I’ll see you soon” he says one last time before hanging up.
I heave a heavy sigh, dropping my phone to the side, My other hand playing with my hair. I really ended up having a casual conversation with Gojo… ‘Gojo is so easy to talk to… I mustn't be swayed’ I thought. The more comfortable I am, the more I am able to make mistakes. I don't think he’ll be pleasant when that day arrives.  I imagine a cross Gojo, but it seems like it's hard to picture what that looks like. I twiddle my toes more just trying to think. Instead, a picture of an more diabolical Gojo came to mind, ‘No, I think he will just endlessly tease me if I do… ahhhhh’ now scratching my scalp, hating the second option even more, I look back towards the picture frame that I previously dropped.
I don’t want the marriage of a jujutsu sorcerer. Constant avoidance, infested with malice, a bitter marriage that would’ve been better off separated. ‘I don't want that’ But if that was the fate that I was preordained to have…
I pulled the picture off the frame and folded it into my wallet. Giggling as I see his little pout still peaking through.
‘I mustn’t feel anything for Satoru Gojo’
I placed my wallet into my bag, I'm now fully packed, ready for my journey… my 6 month long journey, easing my heart in what lies ahead.
-
“We have arrived to, Asakusa station” 
I inhale a lungful of air, waiting for the doors to open. As I'm immediately greeted to the warmth and bustling crowds of Tokyo. 
I hold nothing but just one luggage in my hand, and a small backpack for more personal items to be easily accessed. 
This is the station where I'm supposed to meet Gojo. If he were a normal man, I wouldn't exactly be as worried as I am right now,  it's not exactly hard to spot a 6 foot something with unbashful white hair and a pair of intimidating stark black glasses but with the lack thereof and with his track record of tardiness to multiple events. It doesn't take rocket science to deduce that I may be waiting here for a bit.
I heave a heavy sigh, one that often is released during an intense exam season. Feeling an intense load of anxiety suddenly turning at the pit of my stomach.
‘I wanna go homee’ I sob inwardly walking around the area that's within reasonable reach from the waiting deck, so that I can be easily spotted just in case the unreliable clan leader decides to swing by and save me from the predicament that he himself caused.
I find an empty bench to occupy as I wait for the time being. I tug my sleeves a little as I start to feel a chill, what a perfect welcome to the winter season. 
Ping!
I felt my phone vibrate as I open my phone I saw that I've received a message.
My eyes widen, it was a message from Gojo.
Gojo 10:15am
Sorry, the mission took surprisingly long, I'm 10 minutes away from the station did you just arrive?
I look at the message for a little bit, feeling relieved and a bit embarrassed that I assumed that he was just being leisure With his time when in fact, Gojo was a man who's always short on time with how busy he was.
But regardless he still found the time to help me when I'm in need.
You 10:16am
It’s okay, I've just arrived anyway. Take your time.
Was that too casual? Despite being similar in age I have a hard time talking to Gojo since I was taught to respond formally, but since Gojo hates tradition I was told by him explicitly to ‘ease up’ 
Ping!
I looked at the notification, it was a reply from Gojo 
Gojo 10:17am
10 seconds
“Eh?” I accidentally said out loud, but before I could ask what he meant he sent another message
Gojo 10:17am
5 seconds
By now I think I was sweating bullets, what do these mean? And why are they so ominous?
I felt a single tap on my shoulder making me to jump in surprise, I turned around and was immediately greeted to a wide grin.
“ It's been a while ” he's still as big as ever, I scramble to my feet feeling my soul leave my body just to race back inside to regain control. Gojo, despite saying he’ll arrived in 10 minutes arrived in less than a minute, and yet not a single hair was out of place or a single sweat roll down his face. Effortlessly he looked pristine and perfect. While a single tap made me look like a rag doll ready to be washed. 
“Did I scare you?” he chuckles as I feel my face with my hand to realize not only am I sweaty, my cheeks were also hot from the shock.
“I- I” stammering finding no words to say as my head was a jumbled mess. Standing in front of me was no Gojo I met from when I was 15
This was a different one, a leaner, taller and older Gojo, if his looks didn't kill me before It will kill me now.
“Wow! You haven't grown an inch!” he says while taking my luggage off my hand. While his eyes continue to inspect me. We stand with a fair distance away from each other but his domineering figure if it were to topple over would bury me whole “You look like you still sleep with a nightlight”
“I-I do not” I defend myself from the embarrassing accusation.
But I still do, every night.
‘ahh this man is too much’ I bring up my hands to fan my warm face, I can tolerate Gojos teasing but I get easily embarrassed and it shows on my face which I believe he has much delight in seeing by getting a rise out of me. I prepare myself for a wheeze or a chuckle from him, a sadistic reaction at least to come out but instead I felt a gentle cool touch my cheek. It was a hand, his hand. 
“Gojo?” I was shocked at the sensation that the name just rolled out of my tongue. 
I looked up to him and saw that he was staring down at me still wearing a smile. But it was different, my breath hitches on my throat. His glasses were still blocking his eyes, but compared to before, his smile was gentler, and his face had completely softened. 
He continues to move his hand to cup my cheek, making me squeeze my eyes shut from the sheer cool of his palm. His cool hand was a stark contrast to my warm skin. Which contributed to the growing embarrassment rising with every touch.
“But you’ve changed…” he said, tracing my lashes with his thumb as I kept my eye shut. “Your eyelashes got longer…” his hand,  never leaving my face caresses my cheek, leaving specks of cool on my skin everywhere he touches. He moves my head gently as if trying to observe every nook and cranny, Not really missing a single area, feeling like he wouldn't be satisfied till he saw everything. He slid his thumb down my nose bridge, outlining it. “Your nose is still the same” he gives a little giggle before sliding it down lower, his thumb now ghosting my lips, I puff a breath on it from the cool that it radiates but it doesn't move. Only keeping a distance, never truly touching me.
“You look good” he says softly, he moves his hand away to push some hair away from my face, and tucking it gently behind my ear before giving my earlobe a little pinch that made me flinch. 
The reaction only making him giggle as he gives my nose a little poke with his finger before shifting the front of his body away from me, while I was left with the sight of his broad back. “let's hurry before we miss our train” he moves with long strides.
I stand there completely frozen, my brain not really understanding what just happened until it starts crashing down to me like a tidal wave. I covered my mouth before a scream exploded out of my body. 
‘What was that? What was that?’ my brain was in a jumbled mess that my knees gave out and I'm left crouching on the ground. 
My heart was doing somersaults with the way it's beating. Being awestruck by how much he changed was one thing, but being caressed was a whole different story! 
“Pardon me~” I felt a strong arm slither around my waist. In an instant, my entire body was hoisted off the ground with much ease. Gojo stands there carrying me like a duffle bag. He looks down at my pitiful state but not really minding it.
“As much as I want to enjoy your reactions, we have 3 more trains and a bus to catch” the silver head beams a wide smile while announcing this, my eyes furrowed in confusion.
‘Why do we need to ride 3 more trains?’ He gives me a toothy grin as if reading my mind.
“How else are we going to reach Jujutsu high! It's all the way on the other side of Tokyo from Asakusa station.” His legs start moving as he carries me in the same awkward position. 
“EXCUSE ME?!” Gojo only laughed in response.
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its-time-to-write · 10 months
Note
hey big fan of your writing!! you write jamie so perfectly 💜 pls forgive me if you’ve already written something about this (i haven’t been able to find it if so) but could you write something post-mom city episode with the reader taking care of jamie when he’s hurt after the game and telling him how proud she is?? 🥹 thank you!!
This one’s canon compliant with you don’t want to know me for no reason other than the fact that I like to make my fics match up. It’s fun for me to pretend like I could write something with chapters someday😇 Hope you like it!
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you’re in the kitchen humming
Of course, the one game you can’t go to is the one where Jamie gets injured so badly he has to come home on crutches. He’s not even the one who texts you about it. It’s Ted who writes, Your boy got hurt pretty badly. Might want to come pick him up when we get back.
So now you’re headed to AFC Richmond because Jamie only just let you know they’re back. 
we’re in the treatment room, he says, and you don’t even take a moment to ask who we is.
It’s Roy and Keeley, and you aren’t a little bit surprised. They’re been passing around a bottle and laughing, so obviously Jamie can’t be hurt that badly. His right foot is stuck in a bucket of ice, so you get him up, say goodnight to Roy and Keeley, and help him tipsily hop to your car. Jamie chatters on about the game the whole ride home, only leaving room for you to interject the occasional “mhm,” or “I’m so proud of you!”
It’s somewhat of a chore to get him out of the car, mostly because he’s laughing so hard at the sheer absurdity of the situation, humor exaggerated by the champagne. 
You finally maneuver him onto the couch and get him laid down, leg elevated. He’s still giggling.
You flip on the kitchen light to make him some food. You wonder briefly how many times you’ve done this: put Jamie on the couch, made him food, and let him take you to bed. It’s been a few years’ worth.
You’re at the stove humming softly, when you hear a tap thump, tap thump as Jamie hobbles over to wrap his arms around you from behind.
“Oi, you need to be lying down, mister,” you scold.
Jamie just presses his face into the crook of your neck.
“Can’t get comfortable. I’m still in my kit and I need help getting it off.”
His words are laced with a suggestive tone, made more apparent by the fact that his hands are no longer on your waist per se, but more under your waistband.
You put down the spatula and turn off the stove.
“Jamie Tartt,” you say in a tone that means listen the fuck up, “if you want even half a chance of getting in my pants tonight, you’ll go back to the couch and put ice on your ankle.”
His hands slip away and he groans, but complies. You shake your head and slide the eggs onto a plate.
You hate eggs, but they’re Jamie’s go-to post-match food. You asked him why once, and he said something about his mum and it being the only thing she could cook without burning.
So you suck it up and make him scrambled eggs every time he comes home from a game, whether home or away. Tonight, you bring him his plate on the couch, sit next to him, and hold it for him to eat.
You say softly, “I’m really proud of you, Jaim,” as he pushes himself into a sitting position. “Didn’t really get a chance to say it, but I am. You absolutely smashed it today.”
Jamie smirks. “I got your emojis,” he says. “Had twenty-one missed texts from you, none of ‘em containing a single word.” He puts down his fork and reaches into a pocket for his phone. “Got a fuck-ton of hearts, some fireworks, and one squirrel.”
You blush. Ah yes. The squirrel.
“Don’t think I can make it up the stairs,” he laments. “Might just have to stay on the couch all night. Sad. Alone. Fucking horny.”
You roll your eyes and flick his arm with your free hand. “You done eating? Because you need a shower. You smell, and I’m not fucking you until you’re clean.”
Jamie grins. “But you are going to fuck me.”
You shake your head. Yes, you are. With a goal like that, how could you not? Plus his foot’s injured, and he must be in pain. He could use a good distraction.
Jamie’s mind has to be going in a similar direction because he asks, “You gonna shower with me? I hate showering alone.”
“Obviously,” you respond. “You can barely stand on your own and you’re going to need help with your hair.”
This shower is a lot less sexy than some might imagine. Jamie is trying to keep his balance without putting weight on his foot, but it’s difficult because it’s slippery. You’ve made it through most of his shower routine (and yours too) but now you’re at the final step. Conditioner. 
You grab the bottle and Jamie frowns. “You remember how much to use?”
You nod, but he’s not convinced. “Let me put it on your hand,” he says, grabbing the bottle and forgetting to be careful of his ankle. He puts too much weight on it and it gives out with a “fuck,” leaving Jamie’s lips. 
He’s slipping and trying to grab onto something and that something is you so now you’re both tangled on the floor of the shower, water running in your faces and Jamie grimacing from pain.
You do manage to get him back up and condition his hair to his satisfaction (“It’s a delicate balance, babe,”) but the slip was not good for Jamie’s ankle. You have to go back downstairs for more ice, so now he’s lying flat on his back on the bed, towel wrapped precariously loose around his waist. When you’re satisfied that the ice is secure and Jamie’s foot is at a good angle, you flop down in the bed next to him. You’re still in your towel, too.
“I can’t stop thinking about that kick,” you say.
Jamie asks, “Which one? I did a lot of those,” and you laugh.
“The one to block Man City’s goal. The one where you landed wrong. It was probably the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen. I’m so, so proud of you. I just can’t get over the fact that you can do all that and then you come home to me. It boggles my mind.”
Jamie’s blowing tickly breaths in your ear to make you shiver. “I was pretty sexy, weren’t I?”
You laugh again. “Everything’s always about being sexy with you, isn’t it? Sure, I’ll admit you were sexy. But you were also admirable and selfless and brave and amazing. You can’t sell yourself short.”
Jamie’s silent for a moment, and you think he’s fallen asleep. You look over to see him staring at the ceiling with glazed eyes.
You ask, “Are you crying?” and the words are barely out of your mouth before Jamie’s saying fuck no but you know he means fuck yes so you roll over to kiss him, because sometimes it’s better to leave some things unsaid. He’s pretty great, and you’re glad you’re the one who gets to tell him.
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padfootagain · 4 months
Text
Black Dog Neighbour
Hi everyone ! Today, we’re answering a request made for my 6k followers event by @nobodyshomearchive : “hi hello lovely xxi have been hooked to your blog lately, and to say that is an understatement in all honesty. congratulations on 6k followers <33 so for your celebration can i get an enemies to lovers (ouh massive surprise 👀) with sirius black (preferably post azkaban but it's okay if you don't want to!) cause i'm literally so head over heels for that man. and i'm loving your something good series :) again, congrats and feel free to ignore the request if you don't feel like writing it/it doesn't hit your creative spot.
have a great day/night hun <;3”
Thank you so much for your request, and I hope you like this! I didn’t do post-azkaban Sirius, because he doesn’t exist in my brain. I have been in denial for so long, the Potters are living their best lives, didn’t you know?!
Anyway, still went for post-Hogwarts and post-war Sirius, simply didn’t include anything referencing to Azkaban or… anything canon compliant, to be fair. But as per usual for me when it comes to this character…
Hope you like this! Tell me what you think!
****
Pairing: Sirius Black x reader
Warnings: A small warning for an ex being an arse and showing up drunk on your doorstep (there’s nothing violent, but you do physically push him away, so heads up on that, just in case). But the rest’s cuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuute!!!
Summary: God, you hate that guy next door. Bloody annoying neighbour with his noisy motorcycle, his loud friends, his annoying laugh, his charming smile, his amazing hair, his effortless way to sport sexy leather jackets. He’s insufferable, you hate him to bits. The fact that he’s a talented wizard who can magically change into a dog to guard your door when your ex comes bothering you again will not change your first impression in the slightest, by the way. You still hate him to guts. Probably…
Word count: 4592
Sirius Black Masterlist – Main Masterlist
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Sirius fucking Black.
Your neighbour, aka worst enemy, aka the person you despise the most on earth.
He is loud. He is annoyingly pretty. He is getting on your fucking nerves... again!
Of course, it is Friday night, which means that his stupid friends are over for a “boys’ night”. What a scam…
In consequence, you are currently casting sound-proofing spells all over your walls in an attempt to shush their idiotic laughs. And especially Sirius’s; his unmistakable bark-like laughter, loud and boisterous and absolutely prone to draw a grin from your face even if you don’t mean to. By Agrippa’s hat, you will soon either cut his throat or call for an auror. Or maybe you could burst into his apartment and shout into his face just so he can see how bloody annoying that is. Or kissing him to shut him up sounds like a plan, too…
You shake your head, grinning at your own genius idea. Sirius and his friends are being rudely loud again, when you have already told them a thousand times – which is to say every Friday for the last six months, since Sirius moved in the apartment next to yours – that the walls in this old building of Diagon Alley are too thin, that you can hear everything going on in Sirius’s apartment despite sound-proofing spells… and that they need to keep it down past 11pm because you have work the next day. The absolute dread of working in retails does not, by any means, spare the Wizards and Witches of this world…
You look through your apartment for the object that would make the most noise. You give a few items a try, but settle for the good old pan and spoon. Ha, what precious allies these two are, never failing you.
You add a little spell to amplify sounds – just for good measure – find some earplugs, and then proceed to bang the shit out of that pan, right by your common wall with Sirius’s apartment.
It goes on for five full minutes before you manage to catch the quietened sound of something against your door…
And sure enough, when you stop and take your earplugs out, someone is banging at your door.
“Y/N!” a voice that you easily recognize shouts. “STOP THIS FUCKING NOISE!”
You open the door wide, and have to bend to the side to avoid Sirius’s fist as it misses the door.
“Merlin! Sorry! You’re okay? I didn’t touch you, right?” Sirius asks with anger instantly replaced with worry.
“I have amazing reflexes.”
And anger is back into his dark grey eyes again...
“What the fuck are you doing in there?! Are you mental?!”
“I don’t know, Sirius. I didn’t notice anything over the cacophony of your friends shouting into my ears all night!”
His jaw clenches, and you hate yourself for noticing the trembling of the muscle there, and finding it terribly attractive…
“And you had to make all this ruckus instead of simply walking three meters to my door and nicely ask us to shut our mouths because…?”
“Because I’ve asked you dozens of times, this has been going on for fucking months, Sirius!”
He rolls his eyes, and Merlin do you want to punch him straight across the jaw… his very sharp, very pretty jaw…
“We’re just having a nice evening…”
“And I am trying to sleep!”
“It’s barely midnight!”
“I work tomorrow, you asshole!”
“Ermm… guys?”
“WHAT?!” you both exclaim, turning to face a shy-looking Remus.
“Sorry about the noise, Y/N. We’ll be more careful next time. We’ll leave for the evening.”
“You don’t have to leave…” Sirius complains, but James is already walking out, helping a drunk Peter to cross the corridor.
“It’s late, anyway. Lily’s gonna worry, I was supposed to be home twenty minutes ago,” James argues, and Sirius has to yield.
“Alright, see you on Sunday, then!” he shoots his friends a grin, and the group waves at you.
You rudely ignore them, crossing your arms before your chest. And as Sirius turns back to you, his frown is icy and he quickly matches your stance.
“You’re such a pain in my ass, Y/N…”
“And you’re a jerk.”
“Asshole.”
“You’re insufferable, you know that?”
“You’re one to talk!”
“Oh, you talk plenty enough for both of us. And loudly so!”
Before he can reply, you’ve stepped back into your apartment and slammed the door.
You hear him pestering after you for a moment, then nothing, and finally a door slamming.
Well, that went well…
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You are in trouble.
Big… huge trouble.
Your ex has just stepped into your shop, and you don’t know how to react.
You didn’t break up in a horrendous way, on the contrary! He wanted the two of you to remain friends, and you simply didn’t, worried that you wouldn’t be able to get over each other if you stayed in touch. And by the look he gave you as he stepped inside your shop ten minutes ago, and the many glances he’s thrown at you since, you’re pretty sure that you were right about this.
It's not like your relationship was terrible, by any means. Josh was nice, reliable, but also… not for you. You didn’t have much in common, at the end of the day, and if his personality and looks were nice, it was hard to build a lasting relationship on… nothing. It was for the best that you called it quits.
And as if your day needed any darkening, Sirius Black chooses this very moment to step into your shop. You don’t wait for him to aim for the counter to take out a large pouch in which you have gathered all the ingredients for his friend’s monthly brew. He smiles at the sight, moves towards you. And you hate yourself for the leap your heart makes as he comes closer.
“Hi, Y/N.”
“Hi.”
It’s the first time you speak to each other since the ‘spoon and pan incident’, and you both hesitate. How are you supposed to act now? Apologise for being petty and kind of a dick? Ask for his apology for being a dick? Act like nothing happened?
“Thanks for Remus’s stuff,” Sirius says, voice quieter than usual, gentle, asking for a truce.
Outside, it’s snowing, winter claiming the streets of London, and there are little snowflakes caught in Sirius’s hair. It looks lovely.
All of a sudden, you’re longing for some eggnog, and some pumpkin pie.
His fingers are cold when they meet yours, tips brushing over your knuckles as he picks up the bag, and you hate your own heart for stammering.
“No problem. You know the drill,” you tentatively smile, while Sirius hands you some silvery Sickles.
“I would also need pearl dust, please. Here’s the amount.”
He hands you a parchment with quantities written on it, four small packages to be prepared separately.
“How many hearts do you intend to break with so many love potions?” you joke, turning around to get to work.
The brass scale is set on a small table, pushed right against the wall, behind the counter. It is an easy task for a professional like you, measuring quickly while Sirius laughs.
“No one, thankfully,” he replied.
“Oh… some Amortentia, perhaps? Trying to figure out who your crush likes?”
“No… nothing like that. It’s the properties for invisibility that I’m looking for.”
“If you plan on breaking into Gringotts, I don’t want to know.”
Again, a loud laugh. And you wish you could hold back your smile, but you can’t, the sound is too infectious for that.
You’ve forgotten that your ex is here, you’re reminded of his presence only when you turn back towards Sirius and he’s standing right behind your tall neighbour, a bag of potion ingredients in his hands.
You avert your eyes, and Sirius frowns at the sight. He glances over his shoulder, spots your ex, but says nothing. You only notice how he tightens his hold on the pouch.
“Pearl dust’s quite expensive,” you tell him, handing him the phials, before announcing the price.
“That’s alright.”
He hands you the galleons, takes the vials, but doesn’t step away just yet.
“You… you’re okay?” he asks, and you’re not sure what to do with his expression. It’s somewhere between annoyance and genuine concern.
“Yeah, sure.”
He nods, like he’s disappointed. He’s not bringing up The Incident, and so you won’t either.
“Right, good day.”
He turns in a hurry, not waiting for your answer, but you notice the way he throws a look back before stepping out into the street, snow falling over his dark coat and dark hair again. You hate how your eyes linger on his frame until he’s out of sight, walking down the busy street, but you can’t help it…
“Hello, Y/N.”
You’re brought back to Earth as your ex speaks, and you turn to him, your smile turning from genuine to polite.
“Hi, Josh.”
“How are you?”
“Good! Do you need anything else?” you ask, pointing at the ingredients he’s put on the counter.
“Huh… no, nothing else.”
“That makes two Galleons, 5 Sickles and 3 Knuts, please.”
He hands you some money, and you hand him his change. You see him hesitating, before diving.
“Look, I… I came here hoping to see you.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, I… I’ve been meaning to tell you. I’ve been thinking a lot lately, about what happened, and… Look, I know I could have done better when it came to us. And I thought… perhaps… if you were willing to give me another chance…”
“Josh…”
“Just… hear me out...”
“No. I’m sorry, but no. We… we were not compatible, that’s all. I like you, you’re nice, but… It won’t work between us.”
Slowly, he nodded, apparently defeated. And when another client cleared their throat behind him, he finally left.
What a mess of a morning…
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It is Friday night, and the Marauders are keeping it down. You are surprised by it, but you can only praise these men for being, for once, well-behaved. 11:30, as you slip under the covers, ready for some well-deserved rest before waking up too early to open the shop in the morning. You are ready to fall into Morpheus’s arms and abandon yourself to slumber when someone knocks on your door.
You ignore the sound for a while, but it starts again, and again…
And you thought Sirius was making some efforts. You were ready to commit murder…
You stand up, grab a bathrobe and walk to the door, ready to throw hands with Sirius at this point. Only… only, when you actually open the door, it’s not Sirius who’s facing your wrath.
It’s Josh.
“What… What are you doing here?” you ask, too stunned to think about being polite. “It’s almost midnight.”
But then he looks up at you, and you notice at once that he’s been drinking. His eyes are glimmering, he sways slightly before finding back his balance…
“Josh…”
“Y/N, I… I know that now is not the time, but… please, give me another chance. Please…”
“Josh, we’ve talked about this. Us… it’s over. We’re not getting back together. I’m sorry.”
“But I can try and be better. I’ll be better, let me show you.”
You push him off when he staggers forward, trying to hold you.
“Josh! Stop it!” you raise your voice, trying to get him to let go.
“Please…”
“I said no! Get off!”
He’s finally letting go, but doesn’t take a step back. Instead, he leans against your doorframe, not stepping inside, but making it impossible for you to simply go back in and close the door.
“Josh! Go away! I’m sorry, but this is over between us. You have to leave me alone!”
“But I don’t want to! Y/N!”
“Hey!”
You’re both distracted by the new voice that comes shouting through the corridor. Sirius is standing before his front door, wearing a Queen t-shirt and some dark sweatpants, in what you guess his is nightly outfit. Still, when he comes nearer, hair tied in a bun, glowering, he looks intimidating, tattoos all over his arms on full display, traces of ink peeking above the collar of his t-shirt.
You think for a second that he’s going to make a scene because of how noisy you are right now, not ironic at all given his habits of messing your sleeping schedule, and you’re ready to get angry at him, because this truly is the last thing you need tonight, when…
“You leave her the fuck alone!”
You’re too stunned to react when Sirius comes to stand right by your side.
“She told you to fuck off, so you fuck off!”
“Who the fuck are you?” Josh replied, words a little slurred.
“Her boyfriend,” Sirius lies, but it works wonders, as Josh becomes suddenly very pale. “Now, you fuck off, or I’ll throw you out of the building.”
“You? With him?” Josh asks as he turns to you, and you feel pity for the pain in his eyes, but you don’t regret leaving him.
“Yeah. He’s my boyfriend. Now, please, Josh… leave me alone.”
But he shakes his head.
“I can’t. I can’t. I still love you…”
Sirius looks at you, but you shake your head.
“You have to leave me alone and move on.”
“No… I… I’ll come back later…”
Sirius notices your worry, it almost looks like fear, and he doesn’t hesitate when he grabs Josh by the collar.
“You listen to me now, dickhead,” Sirius growls, it’s almost animalistic, and you’re frozen by this threatening tone of his. “If you set a foot in this building again, if you go see her at her shop, if you so much as breathe in her direction or step in the street she’s in, I will come for you, and I will make sure you can never bother her again. Do you get that?”
“You’re bluffing.”
Sirius grins, something twisted and terribly dark, and even you shiver when he speaks again, voice low and terrible.
“I fought for the Order during the war. I’m a Black. Trust me, you don’t want to fuck with me.”
Slowly, Josh nods, struggling to swallow.
“So… will you leave her alone?”
Again, Josh nods.
“Good boy. Now get the fuck out of here.”
He’s barely released Josh that he’s sprinting down the stairs, stumbling and catching himself against the wall, before disappearing.
But you don’t see that. You’re staring at Sirius, and seem unable to look away.
“You’re alright?”
You’re startled by the softness Sirius’s voice is now wearing, such a stark contrast with the threatening tone he wore a minute ago.
“Y/N? You’re okay? He didn’t hurt you, right?”
“What? No… no, I’m fine! He just… showed up and I couldn’t get rid of him.”
“Yeah, I figured.”
“Thank you,” you whisper as he gets closer.
“You’re sure you’re alright?”
“Yeah, just… a little shaken, I think.”
Slowly, Sirius nods.
“Hey, no need to worry, okay? I’ll keep an eye out tonight. He won’t bother you again. And if he does, in the coming days or weeks, and I’m not around, then you come and tell me. I’ll give him a good fright, and he’ll leave you alone.”
“Thanks but… why would you do that for me? You hate me.”
Sirius chuckles at that, raising an eyebrow.
“I don’t hate you. You’re annoying, but I don’t hate you.”
“Oh…”
His touch is infinitely gentle when he rests his hand on your arm.
“You can go back to sleep. Don’t worry, he won’t bother you again tonight. I promise.”
Slowly, you nod, a little too stunned to complain or argue or discuss what has just happened. Instead, you walk back to your apartment, lock the door, and go back to bed, thinking about the way Sirius’s hands looked gentle without his rings…
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You’re in a hurry this morning. Your brain has not finished to process everything that has happened last night, but this will have to wait. You must rush to the shop, and you can’t find your bloody wand…
Ha! There! What is it doing under the couch? Never mind, you need to hurry, and you need to hurry now!
Only, when you open the front door, you almost trip onto a large black door sleeping on your threshold. A huge black dog, as a matter of fact.
“What in Merlin’s beard…?!”
His ears perk up at the sound of your voice, and he looks up at you with dark grey eyes that remind you of someone…
But it’s impossible, of course. That must be his dog, though. Since when does Sirius has a dog though?!
The animal slowly stands, a real giant, all dark fur and intimidating growls, until he’s shaken some sleep off its frame, and then he looks up at you, as if expecting a command.
“Hi,” you say, feeling foolish, but finding nothing better to say.
The dog merely comes closer, slowly, ears down in submission, as if he’s worried to scare you away. You hold out your hand, and he hurries to rub his snout into it, licking your fingers.
You giggle at the sensation.
“You look intimidating, but you’re a good boy, aren’t you?”
He barks in agreement, and you give him scratches as a reward.
“Who do you belong to, huh? Are you Sirius’s dog?”
The dog merely licks your fingers again.
“You look the part, at least. You fit the motorcycle-and-leather-jackets aesthetic.”
A few scratches more, and you finally remember that you are running late…
“Shoot!”
You lock the door, hurry towards the stairs. But you stop the dog when he tries to follow.
“No, no, no! I’m going to work, you stay here. I’m sure Sirius will be back soon. You stay here.”
The dog blinks, but sits anyway, letting you go.
For the whole trip to the store, you wonder who this dog belongs to, and who would let him sleep outside like this. If he really did belong to Sirius, he would hear about this…
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Your day is a weird one.
After arriving almost late, but not quite, you spend your morning being busy and running around the store looking for the right ingredients for various potions and clients. And yet, several times during your shift, you feel someone looking at you.
The first time, it’s Sirius, who’s squinting on the other side of the glass door. He looks away the second your eyes land on him, and you’re almost certain that he blushes, although you didn’t think it to be possible to make Sirius Black blush.
The second time, it’s the black dog again, who remains sitting by the door under the falling snow for about ten minutes before leaving.
The third time, it’s the dog again, you see him being petted by a customer as she walks out of the shop.
But if the dog belongs to Sirius, then you guess that he’s been around several times throughout the day, which seems odd. Also, you want to chastise him for leaving the animal alone in the cold for extended periods of time throughout the day. Is he heartless?!
So, as you go home that night, you leave your coat in your apartment before heading to Sirius’s.
He answers on the second knock.
“Oh! Hi, Y/N!” he grins a welcome at you. “Need anything?”
“Yeah… I wanted to talk to you, if you have a minute.”
He merely nods, moving to let you inside.
You’ve been here a couple of times before, but you still appreciate the warm atmosphere of the large space that forms his living room. A huge Gryffindor flag is hung across the wall on the right, while windows let you see falling snow over the roofs of Diagon Alley on the opposite side of the room. A large chimney surrounded by comfortable armchairs and sofas, along with a soft red carpet seem to call for you.
“So? What can I do for you, Y/N?”
You turn to him again while he points at the sofa, silently inviting you to sit, but you remain standing. You cross your arms, and he frowns at the sight.
“Where’s your dog?”
Your tone is sharper now, and his frown only deepens, brows knitted together.
“My what?”
“Your dog. Huge. Black. Looks like he could bite my throat off.”
“I don’t have a dog.”
“Really? He’s been following me around all day. He was on my threshold this morning…”
“…Y/N…” he tries to interrupt you, but you don’t let him.
“No! Listen… Thank you for what you did last night. I was really… Thank you. Josh wouldn’t leave and you were most definitely helpful. But let’s be clear, I’m a big girl, and I can take care of myself! I don’t need your protection or anything, got it?”
You wonder why he’s smiling now, but he is all the same.
“Got it. Was just trying to be helpful.”
“You were.”
“Good.”
“Good. But your good action doesn’t mean that I’m going to accept any harm coming to this cute dog of yours!”
“I thought he wanted to bite your throat off.”
“He looked like he could. He was pretty sweet, though.”
“Hmmm…”
“Anyway… what’s wrong with you!? Leaving him outside all night and then in the street while it was snowing!?”
“Y/N, relax. I don’t have a dog, let me explain.”
“Then whose dog is it? Cause we have to find his owner, I’m going to throw hands!”
Sirius laughs, his usual, bark-like laugh, and your puzzled by the sound. It resembles a bark even more than usual.
Sirius heaves a sigh, shakes his head, apparently hesitating, but eventually, he takes a step closer.
“You have to promise me that you won’t tell anyone about this.”
“Why?”
“Because if you do, I might be arrested.”
Your eyes grow round.
Oh dear… the…
“…Potion. The potion! You’ve done something illegal with it!”
Sirius laughs again.
“The pearl dust you mean? It’s just a trick for my godson, for Christmas. How do you think the presents get under the tree without anyone carrying them in? The fellow is a rascal, standing watch all night to catch Santa red-handed. We need to get more and more creative each year. No, don’t worry, it’s nothing like that.”
“Oh… but then… what are you talking about?”
“Do you promise that you won’t tell?”
“Have you killed someone?”
“Of course not!”
“I don’t know, you were pretty… scary last night.”
“Did I scare you?”
“No… but Josh was ready to faint.”
He laughs again at that.
“I haven’t harmed anyone.”
“Okay… then, I promise.”
Sirius hesitates some more, before warning you not to freak out. You don’t have time to question him though, he’s already transforming into…
“… the black dog!”
You gasp at the sight, but you don’t back away when Sirius approaches under his animagus form. Instead, you reach out for him, giving him a few scratches between his ears, making him wiggle his tail happily.
“Oh wow… you’re an animagus! This is beautiful…”
He laughs as he changes back into human, the sound still somewhere close to a growl.
“Am I a good boy, then?” he teases, making you laugh. “No need to call for the animal welfare…”
“But… what were you doing around the shop today? And last night? Did you sleep on the porch?”
Sirius averts his eyes, and you have to double-check, but you’re certain that he is blushing right now.
“Ha, that… I didn’t mean to look like a creep or anything. But I… I was worried your ex would come back. Just wanted to check on you, ‘s all. I didn’t follow you around or anything! I just… went to check that you were alright at the shop a few times.”
“Why?”
He looks up at you with a slight frown, as if it is obvious, as if you’re stupid for not guessing.
“Because… I was worried about you.”
“About me?”
“Is it so surprising?”
“You hate me.”
“Again, I don’t hate you. You’re simply annoying the shit out of me. I like it, actually.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh.”
You blink, trying to make sense of all this, and Sirius looks at you with amusement.
“Is that why you were quiet last night? To not bother me?”
“Oh, the boys weren’t here. Busy week. We’ll be back at being insufferable next Friday.”
You roll your eyes at that, but Sirius laughs.
“I’m joking! I understand, okay? We’re too loud. We’ll keep it down from now on.”
“Right, okay…”
He bit his lip, ran a hand through his hair, in what you guess is shyness. God, you would have never thought to use this adjective to describe him. His rings catch the warm light of the fire burning in the hearth as he moves his fingers through his hair.
“Look, I… I’m sorry for the other night. Actually… for all the other nights. We’ll be more careful next time,” he says, and you raise an eyebrow in surprise.
You never thought you would hear an apology from him, even less so an earnest one, and yet…
“Thank you, Sirius. I’m sorry, too. It was petty and uncalled for.”
“No, you… you were right.”
He heaves a frustrated sigh, runs a hand through his long dark curls again, rebel strands falling before his eyes. You hold tightly onto the sleeve of your hoodie, refraining the sudden urge to push the curls away from his face, brush them behind his ear…
“Look, I… I don’t want us to be on bad terms,” Sirius goes on. “Could I make up for being a dickhead by buying you some fancy Christmas drink? My treat. As a token of good faith and a sign for peace in our building?”
He offers you his open palm, and you shake hands with a smile adorning both of your faces.
“Deal.”
“Any afternoon free this week?”
“Wednesday?”
“Then, I’ll buy you the fanciest cocoa I can find. And even some pumpkin pie, if you’re nice.”
“Sounds good.”
You’re reluctant to pull away but have to let go of his hand.
“Actually… scratch that,” Sirius shakes his head. “Would you go on a date with me?”
Your eyes grow round.
“A date? With you?”
“Yeah. On Wednesday?”
“But… with you?”
“Don’t act so surprised. You really think I play bodyguard for just anybody?”
You laugh at that, you can’t help it, even if you’re still quite stunned by the whole situation.
You weight your options, but then you look at him again, and the answer you want to give is obvious, even if he gets on your nerves all the bloody time…
“Okay. A date. On Wednesday.”
He grins, bright and infectious.
“Great! Awesome!”
“Great.”
“Great.”
You remain staring at each other for a moment, both of you trying to hide your excitement, until you finally clear your throat.
“I should…” you begin, pointing at the door.
“Sure… busy day?”
“You can’t imagine.”
“Hmm…”
You hurry towards the door, feeling overwhelmed by his nearness.
“See you on Wednesday then!” he calls after you as you reach for your own door.
“Sure! But it better be the best hot chocolate I’ve drunk, or I’ll ask for a refund!”
He laughs, and when you turn one last time towards him, Sirius is leaning against his doorframe, staring at you with a grin on his lips and mischief painted all over his features. He winks, and your heart skips several beats.
“Oh, don’t worry. You won’t regret this.”
*********************************
Taglist :
@reg-arcturus-black @hells-escapees @omgrachwrites
@wolfmoonmusic
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islandofsages · 4 months
Note
hey, I could ask the royal boys (Leona, Kalim and Malleus) with the male reader who is already the king of his country, like the boys thought he was a prince like them, but then on any given day he lets out a complaint how difficult it is to govern the kingdom and study for exams at the same time, sometimes he just wanted to be the prince and not the king.
characters: leona, kalim and malleus x king!male reader
tags: platonic, canon compliant, fluff, imagines + scenario format
warnings: a little bit of negativity towards reader in leona's part, a bit of swearing in kalim's
author's notes: loving all the male reader requests rn. i think i strayed a bit from the prompt but i hope you like it anyway <3
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Leona Kingscholar
Though being a prince himself, he’s not as “diplomatic” with the other princes at that school - except for you probably. No don’t ask him what happened, he’s ready to accept it as it is
At least because of your (assumed) status, he finds it easier to communicate with you; at least you’re not one of the top five most powerful mages in the world or the most optimistic person in Twisted Wonderland
Hangouts with him still consist more of silent chilling though; both of you just need to get away from it all for a while
He doesn’t question the days that you’re gone - sometimes people just end up needing you to do this and that. He tries not to dwell on it too much, lest his inferiority complex gets the best of him
Until one day, you come back after one day of absence, which is normal enough until-
“*sigh* I swear, being king is less appealing as my retainers make it sound, especially since I also have to go to school all the while.”
I’m sorry, being what now?
He knew you were royalty, that much he got from everyone whispering about you back when you enrolled and since you made little mention of your background, he just assumed you were a prince like him
You let out a tired chuckle then and comment on how you forgot that you never told him you’re an actual king of a nation
He has mixed feelings over this - he thought he finally met someone a little bit like him, yet you’re just another one of them and you never bothered telling him who you are?
But don’t worry, he gets over his feelings of betrayal after a while; it’s not like the reveal changed who you are as a person. You’re still the same guy who he’s been hanging out with and he knows his brain is trying to defend itself
You apologize for not telling him sooner and despite your complaints, you try not to sound ungrateful, especially considering his issues
At some point, even Leona himself starts to forget about that fact
It doesn’t matter if you carry a whole nation on your shoulders because - and he will never say this out loud - he knows you’re capable and if you start to crumble, he’ll be there for you.
Kalim Al-Asim
Though he’s not one to really care about someone’s social status, he’s happy to have more royal friends
Doesn’t stop him from spoiling you. Haven’t you heard? Any friends of Kalim are also friends of his many, many fortunes
He invites you over to Scarabia for parties every so often and either you are surrounded by people or everyone leaves you alone out of intimidation
But hey, if the latter happens, Kalim is more than happy to help you make some friends (unless you’re uncomfortable with it of course but he’ll still try to help)
One time, at one of his many parties, you two were simply laughing over something and it reminded you of something-
“That makes me think of the time this creature took a shit on my throne back at home - it took a few days for the stench to fade!”
Oh, of course, your throne! Everyone totally has a literal throne back home! Until Kalim realizes that is, in fact, untrue
As if he wasn’t already excited at the prospect of a new friend, he gets more excited at the fact that you have your own throne and is, he concludes, a monarch
You brush him off, light pink decorating your cheeks, saying that it’s not really that special - and you mean it
You tell him of the experience and you couldn’t help slip in a few complaints; it isn’t easy to juggle both school and royal responsibilities at the same time
He only listens in and tries his best to understand; he is no king, and though he is a housewarden and a prince, your struggles differ from his by a long mile
From that day on, he makes sure to check in on you and if you’re feeling less than, he’ll drop everything and do anything to relieve you of your stress
When he drops by your nation and your palace, he brings in a whole parade. It’s so Kalim that you can only laugh
You knew that story about a creature shitting on your throne was gonna be a good story at parties.
Malleus Draconia
Your presence is an absolute delight to him; it didn’t occur to him to ask what kind of royalty you are but it didn’t matter either way
He finds himself more comfortable talking about his heritage around you, knowing that you can somewhat relate to being of nobility
If you’re not part of his club, sometimes you tag along on his gargoyle crusades for the hell of it - seeing him so passionate about something brings a smile to your face
On one of your many escapades, he points out a gargoyle and begins to ramble about its features
Hearing it suddenly makes you remember-
“Ah gosh, I just remembered I should be back home right now, some of my people will be coming over to construct some gargoyles around my castle.”
He doesn’t question it at first but then the phrase “my people” registered in his mind. Wait, what do you mean your people?
You start to apologize for not telling him and also the fact that you have to leave that very moment
After you came back after the whole ordeal, you sit him down somewhere and tell him about your position
As mentioned, it doesn’t matter to him what responsibilities you have, as long as you can be his friend
You breathe out a sigh of relief and invite him to continue where you two left off last time
Nothing changes much between you two, except for the fact that you share more of your kingly experiences
He definitely drops by your place at least once - he could never miss out a chance on seeing some new gargoyles
And as he looks on at those beautiful waterspouts, you can’t help but be grateful that they can serve as a source of happiness for someone too.
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lumosatnight · 5 months
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23 Fic Recs 2023!
This year has definitely been a year. I've devoured so many wonderful fics by so many amazing authors. Thank you @hprecfest for the super fun rec categories and for some fic inspiration! Here are 23 fics that I read and loved in 2023 (although some are quite a few years older) ordered by ship.
🌼 - fluff | 💔 - angst | 🔥 - smut
💫 DRARRY 💫
1. A post-canon fic
The Discreet Gentleman's Connection by pluto (gayrights420) [Drarry, E, 80.4k] 🌼🔥 I had the absolute pleasure of beta-ing for this fic, so when I say it is amazing, it truly is just that. Fast burn on the smut via Floo sex, slow burn on the in-person falling in love. Satisfying in all the best possible ways.
2. A fic that made me laugh
AITA for being "obsessed" with my childhood nemesis? by @rainstormradish [Drarry, M, 4.3k] 🌼📲 Draco on a reddit forum is hilarious just on its own, but the banter and formatting really bring this fic to life. Amazingly creative, had me in stitches!
3. A comfort fic
The Eighth Tale by @letteredlettered [Drarry, E, 12.0k] 💔⏳ An oldie but a goodie. I constantly find myself coming back to this fic and having my mind blown every single time. Time travel timey-wimey angst.
4. A fic with art
Dating Draco - A Visual Game by @itsphantasmagoria [Drarry, M, Video Game] 🌼🎮 This is a fic in video game form!! Amazing art and lovely story where YOU get to make the choices for Drarry's happily ever after.
5. A favorite series
The Journal of Dreadful Things by @lilbeanz [Drarry, G, 112k, WIP] 🌼📖 Hilarious, witty, AND COMES WITH ART!! Lilbeanz draws and writes a wonderfully delightful series starting from Draco's First Year. His characterization had me in hysterics. Book 4 is starting soon!
💫 COMMON SHIPS 💫
6. Fic with the hottest smut
Moonstruck by @prettyremus [Wolfstar, E, 3.8k] 🔥🐺 Found this gem while scrolling through the werewolf smut tag (don't judge me). I love the switch in dynamic with Sirius taming Remus's wolf through, ahem, rough sex.
7. An unreliable narrator fic
Sea of White by @dividawrites [Harrymort, E, 8.6k] 🔥🤍 Deliciously hot, creepy, and strangely sweet. Love their dynamic here, the unrestrained lust. Harrymort "die" and lose their memories, so, of course, then they bang.
8. A fic that made me cry
Far Apart, Far Away by @unmistakablyoatmeal [Hinny, minor Drarry, T, 1.6k] 💔💍 Infidelity angst has never been this good. I love the layers of emotion in this fic. Quick punchy sections that really pulled me in.
9. A Muggle(?) AU fic
Pleasant Hope by @ac1d6urn, @sinick [Snarry, E, 41.6k] 💔⛪️ Pastor Severus!! The angst, pining, and self-discovery in this fic is superb! I love the interwoven magic and detailed world-building of this little town.
💫 RARE PAIRS 💫
10. A fav amongst faves
The Last Trial of Peter Pettigrew by @sleepstxtic [Prongstail, M, 20.8k] 💔 🐀 Holy moly, this fic!!!! Is this my new favorite fic?? Possibly. The concept is brilliant, so creative and nuanced. The Peter character study using outsider perspectives is genius. Seamlessly balances canon and new scenes.
11. A pre-canon fic
Careless by @tax-onomic [Luther, E, 1.5k] 🔥🪞 Lucius/Arthur my beloved rare pair!! I am captain of the Luther ship, and Tax's fic hits all the right spots. The pining, the sniping, the prickly personalities with emotional vulnerability underneath! And all in the middle of a hot smut scene. Perfect.
12. A canon-compliant fic
Scottish by thepadfoots [Chedric, G, 749] 💔🌟 Lovely Cho character study focused around her Asian identity and the boy she loved.
13. A fic rated G (more like T though)
Lion-Hearted Girl by MinnieQuill (odainath) [Minmione, G, 4.5k] 💔🦁 I know the large age gap might scare some, but their relationship feels very organic in this fic. The setting is grim, but there is always hope in the darkness!
14. A fic rated T
You're So Vane by @patriceavril [Romelina, T, 6.8k] 🌼💄Romilda is so delightfully characterized, I was smiling through the entire fic. Angelina is the perfect foil (and love interest) to Romilda's attentions.
15. A rare pair fic (less than 2000 fics on AO3)
Snakeskin by @cntrl15 [Bellastoria, E, 3.7k] 🔥👠 Talk about a rare pair! Astoria/Bellatrix only has 2 tagged fics on AO3: this fic and the drabble I wrote based on it. But read this fic, and you'll see why I felt the need to write more in this universe.
16. A fest fic
Master of None by @nanneramma [Snormac, G, 5.5k] 🌼🧘 Severus is so wonderfully cranky, and Cormac is fine AF. The surprise pairing of 2023 that I never knew I needed and now I'm obsessed with!
17. An under-rated fic
Sun, Shadow, Shade by @naomijameston [Snuna, G, 700] 🌼☀️ Post-war fluff. Sunshine Luna is the perfect match for sullen Snape. A short and sweet fic for this underrated ship.
18. A canon-divergent fic
but somebody's gotta do it by nocturn [Pangulus, T, 920] 😄🧟‍♂️ This fic will make you say WTF but also huh, okay that totally works. The concept is WILD but Lyra executes it wonderfully. Pansy drags Regulus out of the inferi lake and they flirt a little while he gets de-corpsified lol.
💫 POLY SHIPS 💫
19. A dark fic
In his embrace by @loneamaryllis [Snarrymort, het!Snarry, E, 48k] ⚡️👀 Dark and dirty but so so good. A Voldemort Wins AU where fem!Harry is taken as prisoner. Snape's mindset as he tries to save her (and is forced to rape her) is so twisted and mesmerizing. Mind the tags!
20. A thought-provoking fic
Icarus by @thistlecatfics [Millvansy, M, 20.0k] 💔🍾 War trauma, addiction, codependency! This fic is messy with emotions but has a strong, beating heart underneath. I am in love with Parvati as she deals with Pansy's addiction and Millicent's denial — three beautiful, imperfect girls.
21. A holiday fic
A Time, Dark and Divine by @moonflower-rose [Dronarry, E, 17.0k] 🔥⛱ HOLY FREAKING FUCK!! The sexual tension in this fic is off the freaking charts. Drarry seducing Ron while on vacation in Portugal. Sign me the fuck up!
💫 GEN 💫
22. A favorite fic under 5k
The Scrunchie by @saintsenara [Lightning Era Girls, G, 4.5k] 💖👭 Such a lovely look into some of the female background characters, all following the path of a single scrunchie. Lisa, Padma, Parvati, Hannah, Sally-Anne.
23. A fic with an ending I can't stop thinking about
Through the Middlegame by @sandervansunshine [Astoria & Peter, T, 6.6k] 💔♜ Devastating, heart-wrenching, tragic. 10000% would recommend. Kylee has already heard me screaming in the servers about this fic. If I could get a fic tattooed straight onto my brain, this would be it.
💫 BONUS RECS! 💫
A podfic
Plenitude by @wilfriede, written by eldritcher [Amelmione, M, 14 min] 💔🥀 Amazing voices, amazing music, amazing ambience. Wilfriede really brings one of my fav Hermione/Amelia Bones fics to life in this podfic!
A comic
War Prize by @mrviran [Snegulus, Reggiemort, M, Comic, WIP] ☠️🐍 The panels are awe-inspiring. I am HOOKED on this comic. The murder and the TENSION. Ughhhhh so good. I am so invested in Severus's arc!!
A self-rec (completely self-indulgent)
For I Have Found Salvation by @lumosatnight [Snarry, E, 7.1k] 🔥✝ My first time writing Snarry! Priest Kink, church sex, and blasphemous religious imagery. Priest Severus is oh-so-tempted by Teen Harry. So fun to write and even more fun to go back and read as a guilty pleasure.
⚡️ Want more fics to read? ⚡️
Try my rec tag: #lumosinthelibrary
Year in Reading, b-day oneshots, WLW Library
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