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saetoru · 1 year

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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。what if you’re someone i just want around (i’m falling again)

synopsis. somewhere along the line, you started to hate suguru—that doesn’t mean you stopped loving him too

— word count. 9.5k (i am in misery)

— contents. post canon! au — fix it! (we all need a good fix it fic with suguru don't lie), this fic was started before recent manga chapters so the higher ups are still alive—just go with it ok :,), geto survives + lives free of kenjaku, exes to lovers, kind of redemption i suppose, mentions of blood, injuries, and weight loss (geto), mentions of canon character deaths (nanako, mimiko, nanami), mentions of wanting to raise children with geto and have a family, no gendered terms but reader has a personality and actual thoughts and feelings, references to the hunger games (you have movie night lol), BFF satoru (he is babie), there is a kiss y’all !! (scandalous i know :O)

— notes. i started this fic back in march and i had trouble with it and put it on pause for a while. i’m very glad i finished it in the end. i always like fix it! fics and this is self-indulgent and idk if ppl will read it bc it’s sfw but it’s ok if they don’t, i loved writing it. thank you koi for beta-reading this whole bad boy. mwah <333

the day suguru is declared a free man is actually the day he signs away his freedom for good.

you say nothing, but you know it’s the truth. satoru fights tooth and nail to plead suguru’s case—you think it’s perhaps a little too desperate for it to be in the best interest of suguru and not himself. but satoru has suffered enough, and admittedly—although you deny it—a small part of you does not want to lose suguru twice. you watch as satoru argues that suguru has already died once—surely he can’t die again? and losing control of his body and mind is paying for his crimes enough, is it not? he argues that there are no ideals left for a man like geto suguru to chase after losing himself to every principle he had left.

and then satoru wins.

you expect it, but it doesn’t make it any easier. you watch numbly as suguru is assigned under your watch. you should be happy. you love suguru—you never stopped. but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s not a free man, and now he drags your freedom with his. you’ll never break away from him, never cut through the ropes that tie your hands behind your back and bind you to him—and then you wonder for a moment, unsure if it’s selfish or selfless or some cruel in-between to think this way, if geto suguru was better off dead.

whether that’s for your sake, or his, you’re not sure.

and yes, he’s let off alive, and sure, there’s no real punishment for all he’s done, but you know deep down he’s as chained and shackled as he’s ever been. he’s not allowed to leave the house unless you or satoru are there to chaperone, and it’s never to be anywhere near non-sorcerers. he’s not to live in a place of his own until the higher up’s deem him trustworthy. he has to ask you to buy the things he wants from the grocery store. he can’t even step outside for a smoke unless you’re aware.

for a long time, he doesn’t speak much—can hardly muster a barely audible mornin’ back when you force a smile and greet him cheerily for breakfast. slowly, it turns into half-snarky conversations that get cut short by one of you leaving the room. finally, you’re civil—maybe even friendly. you’re not so sure where you stand with him as of now.

it’s not the same suguru you remember falling in love with, it’s not even close to the version of the man you fell for all those years ago. it’s hard having him here—some days you’re angry and want to throw him out, to scream at him for haunting you again just when you think you’ve moved on from the horrors of your past. some days you want to cry and cling to him, bury your face into his neck and thank him for being here again, for finding his way back to you. and some days you wish you never met him at all, that this would all be easier if it didn’t exist in the first place.

he’s not the same geto suguru you loved, but somehow, because life is as bitter as it is ruthless, you fall in love with this version just as hard no matter how much you deny it.

“i made your favorite,” you smile gently, placing a neat plate of french toast with freshly cut strawberries on the side. you even take great care to get the syrup-to-powdered sugar ratio he likes right, but he doesn’t make a move to reach for the plate. instead, suguru sits at the table stiffly, like he has to be here or there are consequences for that too. it almost makes you sad—even here, he’s not free.

“thanks,” he says quietly, “but i’m not hungry.”

“you said that last night, suguru,” you sigh, “and at lunch. and at breakfast. and at dinner the night before—”

“i’ll eat it later,” he cuts you off, playing with the ends of his hair.

it’s a lot shorter now. it’s you who finds his body battered and bruised after the smoke clears. he’s almost unrecognizable, not the same charming and perfect suguru you’re used to seeing. not the same silkened strands and smooth skin, not the same muscled and toned body, not the same chiseled jaw and soft cheeks. instead, he’s a shell of himself. his hair is matted in knots, his body is almost frail, and you notice the sunken hollows of his cheeks and dark undereyes as you lift him from the rubble a little too easily. but his body is his own—that much you can tell from the way the stitches have disappeared.

it takes shoko a long time to nurse him back to health—it takes even longer for him to open his eyes.

you waited day and night by his side, hand over his as he breathed slowly, unconscious and unsuspecting. it would be so easy, you think one night, it would be so easy to kill him and forget and move on.

you’ve already grieved him once before. you’ve felt and conquered the pain of loving geto suguru and losing him first to himself and then to death. but love is as selfish as it is selfless, and it’s under your mercy that you let him live—yet it’s under your cowardice that you keep him close.

“you have to gain back the weight you lost, suguru,” you sigh, “you’re w—”

“weak?” he finishes for you, eyeing you for a second and then grinning. it’s unsettling, a grin that makes your skin crawl and your heart stop for a moment before he’s reaching for the fork and stabbing into his toast. “is that what you wanted to say? that i’m weak?”

“suguru, you know that’s not how i meant—”

“you’re not wrong,” he hums, chewing on the first bite as he speaks, “i suppose i am pretty weak right now, huh? couldn’t even kill you in your sleep if i tried could i?”

your throat is dry as you shrug, “i suppose not,” you whisper.

“ah,” he grins again, “but that doesn’t stop you from locking your door every night, does it?”

suguru is still healing. his body is weak, and sometimes, he leans against the wall as he walks. his arm is healed—you’re not entirely sure how, but you catch him rolling the shoulder out every now and then like it’s sore and stiff. he’s lost a lot of weight—part of it is from being bedridden for as long as he was, injured and half alive, and part of it is from barely eating—save for the few bites you force into him. you never thought there’d be a day when you could say this—but the odds of you beating suguru in hand-to-hand combat are high, and the reality is an everlasting reminder that he is not who you fell for.

you swallow, letting out a shaky breath as he watches you closely, diligently cutting another bite from the french toast sitting on his plate as he stares you down like he can see past your soul. you don’t know what’s scarier—that suguru can still practically see yours, or that you’re unsure he even has one anymore.

“you tried coming in?” you ask, unsure what else to say. he merely shrugs, takes another bite, and sets his fork down.

“thought i’d check on you,” he pops a strawberry half into his mouth as he speaks.

“is that what it really was?” you raise a brow, “or was i right to lock the door?”

you’re not sure why you lock the door at night. maybe it’s because you don’t trust him, or maybe it’s because you don’t want him near you just yet. you’re not sure. you’re not sure how satoru can go back to his cheery self, how he can step through your door and boom a loud yo, suguru! before settling beside suguru on the couch with his feet on the coffee table as he rambles away. maybe it’s not real—maybe it’s satoru desperately pretending that if he tries hard enough, things can go back to how they were.

but you don’t know how he still has the energy to try, and you don’t know if you have it in you to try anymore yourself.

you and suguru stare each other down like that for a bit, the tension rising with every silent second that passes. you’re sure he doesn’t want to be here as much as you don’t want him around—but you’re also sure he’s glad it’s here with you as much as you’re glad it’s with no one else.

“you tell me,” he smirks after a bit, the hint of amusement making your fists clench. how dare he have the audacity to look at you like that in your own home? like he has the upper hand over you without trying? “what do you think i was there for?”

“i think you should stay in your room, suguru,” you say carefully, “i bought a new bed just for that room.”

“how sweet of you,” he hums. he sips the tea before him—it’s cold by now, but it’s just how he likes it, rose with one sugar. “you must have been excited to have me.”

“hardly,” you mumble bitterly—you can’t help it. you want him to feel hurt, even just a little. you want him to know that just because he’s back, it doesn’t mean you’ve waited all this time for him to be. liar, a part of you says, you’ve always waited for him, haven’t you? but suguru doesn’t seem phased—he doesn’t even blink.

“then tell me, why am i here?” suguru asks, his tone is as casual as ever.

i wish i knew, you want to say. i wish i knew but i don’t.

“because satoru asked you to be,” is all you can say.

he nods, pushing back his plate and standing up, offering you that same grin. “you’re right,” he hums, “that’s exactly why i’m here.”

it hits you why his smile is so unsettling once he leaves—it’s almost genuine, like he’s still loved you all this time. impossible, you tell yourself. suguru stopped loving you a long time ago. and you need to stop trying to figure out why.

————————————————

even despite telling yourself you don’t care what suguru thinks, a small part of you needs to prove to him you’re not scared of him. that you don’t fear for your own safety in your home, and that him being here is not some form of him haunting you. you don’t care. he shouldn’t get the luxury of thinking you care. he can come in and watch you sleep like the creep he is if he wants—you couldn’t bother to give it a second thought.

the first night you take a chance and leave the door unlocked, suguru slips into bed beside you. it wakes you up instantly, and before you can question it, his head tucks into your neck, and his hand grasps your shirt tightly. you notice the panting almost instantly—and then you realize, it must be a nightmare.

you fall into old habits, even after all these years, defaulting to care for him like it’s second nature.

“you’re safe, suguru,” is what you settle for saying after a moment of contemplation. it’s all you can really think to say, so you brush your lips over the top of his head as you murmur, “you’re safe,” over and over again.

as difficult as it is to have suguru around, as painful and cruel and aggravating as it is to be reminded of his distant existence even as he’s two doors down, this part feels natural. it’s almost like you’re back in jujutsu high, waking up to him sneaking into your room as he presses his weight over your body and wakes you with soft kisses along your face.

except this time, he’s not annoyingly demanding cuddles or telling you about his weird dream, he’s not stealing your blanket and demanding you play with his hair. this time, it’s not the same suguru—and this time, it’s not jujutsu high.

it’s your room. the one you got on the other side of town to leave the sorcery world behind, somehow still stuck right in the center of it no matter where you go. and yet, just like all those years ago, your legs tangle, and your arms wrap him up, and you murmur, “you’re safe,” while he catches his breath.

“but they’re not,” he mutters in between labored pants, making you pause.

and then you remember.

faintly, you recall the blonde and black hair from a distance, you remember bitterly wondering what’d it be like watching suguru fathering children of your own as you came to the reality that it would never happen. sometimes, you wonder if you hate nanako and mimiko for existing, for living as the dreams you never got to live through with suguru.

it’s selfish—to hate two children because they are what you do not have.

but then you feel something wet hit your neck, and then you wish they were okay—for his sake. and just for a moment, you’re selfless again.

“they’re not safe,” he mutters, making you sigh.

“they are,” you whisper, hesitating for a moment before letting your fingers slip into his hair. you scratch gently at his scalp, feeling his body melt into yours almost instantly—like it’s a response that’s natural to him. “they’re not suffering. not anymore.”

“is that supposed to make me feel better?” he scoffs. you shrug, letting your cheek press against the top of his head as you sigh.

“it helps me feel better,” you say softly, “‘s just how you learn to cope.”

it’s an understanding you both silently come to. loss on both sides. bloodshed on either ground. defeat no matter which ideal you take. to love is to bear the pain of mortality—it’s a lesson that you never cease to learn until the ends of time itself.

“the jujutsu world is one of suffering,” he grits, sniffling into your neck. you hum, pressing a kiss to his head as your eyes close.

“every world is one of suffering, suguru, you can’t erase them all. the sooner you realize that, the easier you’ll find peace.”

you fall into a slumber after that, faintly aware of the way he shuffles closer to you, faintly aware of the soft kiss pressed to your skin as sleep takes over your body and drifts you out of consciousness.

when you wake up the next morning, suguru is gone, and the door is closed. the blanket is tucked up to your chin, and your neck still tingles from last night.

————————————————

“get up,” you throw a pillow at suguru, waking him up with a start as he sits up. his hair is tousled and messy from sleep—it’s now long enough that he can put it in a bun without strands slipping from the bottom anymore. you chuckle as he glares at you, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he groans.

“the fuck was that for?” he grunts, holding the blanket up to cover his exposed chest.

it’s funny that he does that, in a way. it’s not as though you haven’t seen his chest…and then some too. it’s not like you haven’t torn his shirt off to stanch the flow of blood from his injuries before or feel the bare skin with your palm under the pale moonlight as the lingering scent of sex breezes through the room.

but somehow, even though he doesn’t need to cover his chest around you of all people, you’re glad that he does. truthfully, it keeps you slightly comforted to know that he’s aware you’re still technically strangers—no matter how well-versed you are in each other’s pasts. but you don’t ponder on it too much. instead, you grin, shoving aside the visual of the small glance you caught at his pecs, and you clap your hands to motion him to hurry.

“we are going grocery shopping,” you say casually—as though it’s not something to make him raise a brow in shock.

“me?” he points a finger at himself. you roll your eyes, and he challenges you with another raise of his brow. “aren’t i supposed to stay away from civilians?”

“yes, you,” you nod, pointing back at him, “and satoru has worked overtime to get you granted permission to roam around with me. he says you’re welcome, by the way.”

“tell him to go fuck off.”

“that’s ungrateful,” you say flatly, “his feelings will be hurt.”

“his feelings will find a way to cope,” suguru huffs. “i don’t want to be around…them,” he says bitterly.

you suppose it’s wishful thinking to hope suguru has let go of his past beliefs. perhaps he’s long abandoned the possibility of the vision he once planned on bringing to life, but you can’t say you expected him to revert back to the old suguru who fought alongside you and satoru. you yourself certainly have no intention of returning to the sorcery world after all the events, so you can’t say you’re shocked by the lack of change he seems to show. but then again, you suppose suguru has changed. whether he sees it or not.

he stays here and doesn’t put up a fight to leave even though he can now that he’s healed. he eats lunch when you tell him and even washes the dishes. sometimes, when you come home a bit late, dinner is even ready on the table as he sits and stares at you expectantly. his plate is empty like yours—like he’s been waiting for you even though he doesn’t need to. you suppose you can see he’s changed in the way he doesn’t scoff at the tv channels you surf through, he silently sits on the opposite end of the couch now and watches with you, and perhaps if you’re lucky, you’ll hear a light chuckle or a quiet sigh as the scenes roll on the screen.

you suppose this suguru is a step closer to your suguru every day he spends with you, but you don’t know if any suguru is what you need right now. perhaps that name should’ve been buried away as a distant memory, perhaps it should’ve only been something you unlock once every year on his death anniversary—when satoru clambers through your door drunk and unsteady as he clutches the hand that killed his best friend, only to share pancakes with you in the morning and pretend like you don’t notice the dried tears on his cheeks while he acts like he doesn’t catch the way your hand shakes as you cut into your breakfast.

but suguru is here now. whether it’s as geto, one half of the strongest duo in jujutsu high, whether it’s as suguru, the love of your life and the sole reason you exist, or whether it’s as geto suguru, the curse user and mass murderer who haunts your past, present, and everything in between.

so you simply sigh, grab the pillow again, and hit the top of his head before walking over to the door as you call over your shoulder, “i’m gonna wait for you by the door in fifteen minutes. be ready or face the consequences..”

“no thanks. don’t wanna,” suguru grumbles petulantly, frowning at you as you stick your tongue at him, smirking as if you’ve just played your ace.

“too bad,” you sing before swinging the door shut.

he’s at the door in exactly fifteen minutes, like he waited until the last possible second to join you as a move of spite. but you simply gesture him out the door and lock up, taking your sweet time as he stands there with an annoyed face. you stare at the doorknob once you’re done, taking a deep breath before turning to him with your best smile.

“let’s go,” you hum.

“after you,” he mutters.

—

he grimaces as soon as he sees the people going about their business, clearly unhappy with the idea of being around non-sorcerers, but one sharp glare from you has him sighing and trekking along. the grocery store, admittedly, is not as bad as suguru thinks—in fact, there are lots of things he doesn’t realize he misses until he watches you grab a shopping cart.

suddenly, he sees shadows. the silhouette of your figure climbing into the cart, the angry wave of satoru’s hands as he claims it's his turn to be pushed around, the figure of shoko pinching the bridge of her nose in irritation from the back—and then, he sees the dark shadow of baggy pants and a small bun. it’s him. suguru watches himself almost in slow motion through the remnants of his imagination as he gently shoves satoru out of the way and reaches to poke the tip of your nose before he pushes the cart with you in it.

it’s a happy memory—and it’s gone all too soon.

as soon as he blinks, the shadows have disappeared—instead, it’s you waving a hand in his face, concern written on your features as you call his name.

“suguru? hey, hello? are you with me?”

he exhales, pulled from his trance as he gently grabs your wrist from in front of his face and sets it down as he nods, “yeah, i’m fine. just thinking,” he mumbles.

for a second, you hesitate, like you almost mean to say something. but in the end, you only nod before turning to grab the shopping cart. but he stops you—grabs the handle and turns to you with a small smile on his face, making you raise a brow as he gently moves you away.

“what are you—”

“get in,” he grins, making you stare at him in bewilderment.

“what?”

“just get in,” he sighs, “you love it when you get to sit in the cart.”

“i’m not a teenager anymore—”

“get in, will you?” he groans, “always so damn difficult.”

“hey,” you pout, glaring at him with your hands planted at your hips, “that’s rude.” it’s cute. suguru stares at you with amusement in his eyes and a soft look on his face that you don’t think you’ve really seen in years.

“humor me,” he hums, “just get in, okay?”

so you do.

with a huff and a grumble under your breath, you fight back a smile and climb into the damn cart just like old times. you swallow and try not to let it get to you when he reaches over and pokes the tip of your nose and pushes the cart around, letting you name off the things you need from your list while he grabs them. and when he sneaks snacks into the pile, you roll your eyes and glare at him in the way you always did—the one that isn’t actually annoyed. fond. happy to let it slide because it’s him.

“we need candy,” you murmur, “that’s the last thing on the list.”

“okay. what kind?” he asks, turning the cart into the candy aisle and smiling softly down at you.

“doesn’t matter, satoru eats anything as long as it’s sweet. he’s more likely to die from sugar than fighting a curse, i think.”

“you buy candy for satoru?” he asks, making you shrug as you reach over and grab a few bags of candy off the shelves, setting them down beside you.

“he comes over a lot so i learned to keep stuff stocked up for him. you know how he gets when he’s hungry.”

suguru feels something he hasn’t felt since he was a teenager. jealousy—specifically of satoru.

suguru is not foolish. he knows as soon as he meets gojo satoru that of the two, one of them is stronger and it’s definitely not himself. for the longest time, he’s okay with that, okay being the strongest only when alongside satoru—until he’s not. and even if suguru always had a bit more attention in the romance department than satoru, in his head he’s always known that perhaps satoru can keep you safer, more well off, maybe even happier. with smooth smiles and eyes as welcoming as an oasis, gojo satoru would never leave you in the dark pit of misery as suguru once had.

something about the thought of you and satoru keeping each other company through the lonely years, filling that empty spot suguru left behind, sharing moments over candy and empty wrappers makes suguru wonder for a moment if perhaps he’d be happier if he stayed. maybe he could have worn a heartfelt smile in a world that carves them off the faces of sorcerers with bloody knives as long as you were there to wipe the blood.

but before he can dwell on it, you snatch one more bag—this time of his favorite candy, placing it into the cart and grinning gently up at him.

“i haven’t bought this one in years,” you admit, “i almost forget how it tastes.”

“me too,” he says quietly.

“well,” you hum, “we’ll have to have some when we’re home.”

home. you say it as though it belongs to him as much as it does you, and then like you always have, without even meaning to, you wash away the dark stains of his jealousy with no trace left behind.

“yeah,” he chuckles, “we—”

“daddy, look! candy!” suguru is cut off by the gentle pitter-patter of two tiny feet running into the aisle, pointing at a bag of candy as a man follows close behind.

his breath hitches.

she’s small, the girl—she has two pigtails with soft strands of blonde hair falling out of the loosely tied bands. it reminds suguru of the first time he perfected tying up nanako’s hair, the soft giggles behind her tiny hand as she twirled in the mirror.

there’s another girl in the man’s arms—dark hair on her head as she curls into her father’s chest and tucks her head into his neck when she sees you and suguru in the aisle. she’s shy, he realizes, like mimiko, and suddenly he remembers the tiny fingers that used to hook into his pants when she got too overwhelmed by the people around her, waiting for suguru to scoop her into his arms.

perhaps in another life, suguru would redo everything differently—he’d be happy with you and satoru and shoko, and nanami and haibara would be there too, well and alive. but no matter what, he’d never redo nanako and mimiko differently. he’d never change a thing about them, not even the way nanako whines too much about small things or the way mimiko never speaks up even when something is clearly bothering her. he’d never change the way he saved them and took them in at the tender age of eighteen, too lost to be a father but choosing to raise them anyway. he’d never change the feeling of pure joy and unbridled pride when they climbed into his bed for the first time, shushing each other so as not to wake him—even though he’d awoken as soon as the door to his room opened.

because he realized that night that yeah, maybe he’d made mistakes in his lifetime, lots of them too. maybe he’d made a bad choice choosing the path he did, or maybe he didn’t. he’s never been completely sure—just that he had to try at least to make his vision for a different world come to life. but one mistake he never made was his girls. one thing he was always sure about was the soft clutch at his pants and the tiny hands reaching for his own.

suguru wouldn’t change anything about nanako and mimiko—except maybe the fact that they aren’t here, gone because of him.

“suguru?” you ask softly, reaching for his hand as he grips the cart tightly and pulling his gaze away from the family in the distance.

he blinks, meets your eyes, and knows that you know. with one glance at your face, he knows you understand. the world is cruel, one filled with suffering, he thinks. but then he remembers what you said, that every world is full of suffering, not just his—that it’s a truth he has to come face to face with.

but it’s hard. it’s hard when this man has his two little girls and suguru does not—it’s hard to watch someone have what he wants with no worries of losing it, all because of people and their own weaknesses. he thinks for a moment that he’s been right all along—that non-sorcerers are too weak for this life, that the jujutsu world has always suffered so they don’t have to.

but then the man speaks up, catching both of your attention.

“your mother used to love those,” he says quietly to his daughter, a pained smile on his face. instantly, you and suguru both seem to understand the weight of that single sentence.

every world has its own pain, suguru realizes. its own cruelties and unfairness, its own way of bringing suffering in its wake as it rips away the things closest to you from your begging fingertips, leaving them cold and empty and numb from the lost weight underneath them.

“let’s go, suguru,” you whisper, “we have everything we came for.”

“yeah,” he whispers back, clearing his throat so his voice doesn’t crack, “let’s go.”

suguru leaves the grocery store with you after you pay, and for a brief moment, he’s unsure. unsure whether he’s grateful to satoru for fighting for him to be able to come and grateful to you for dragging him along, or if he wishes he died along with the rubble, gone before you could find him and turn him into this.

“before you even think about hiding away in your room,” you say, grabbing the bags from the cart as you put it back where it belongs, “you have to help with putting away the groceries.”

“sure,” he says smoothly. he grabs all the heavy bags from your hand, and you make a move to protest that you don’t need him to take the heavier ones, that you’re fine and can handle them like you’ve always handled them.

but he walks off, and finally, you decide to simply follow.

————————————————

satoru likes to come and visit—you’ve started a routine movie night every week (unless he’s away, of course.) it’s fun, but it also means he makes your veins pop because he’s a headache like that—always makes himself right at home and eats your snacks like this is his place and not yours. he helps himself to your already limited candy and puts his sock-clad feet up on the coffee table no matter how many times you tell him not to.

you try sitting with legs as long as these, he always whines, earning a harsh glare from you as you smack at his shins until he ultimately caves and begrudgingly sets his feet down.

but then they always make their way back up to the coffee table, and you’re too busy enjoying his company to care—although you’ll never admit it.

satoru is endearing like that, swallowing the dark clouds from your shoulders whole and eating up your burdens with that side of responsibility that you don’t think you could ever stomach. satoru is just like that, you realize, taking the brunt of the weight and laughing off every concern until you can’t help but not take them seriously yourself.

it’s hard to remember that sometimes you didn’t just lose suguru, the love of your life, that night. everyone lost something. shoko lost someone to smoke with, yaga lost a student to scold, nanami lost a headache to avoid, and satoru?

well…satoru lost what you think might’ve been the only filled void of his miserably empty life.

it’s hard to remember that satoru lost his best friend—the only best friend he’s ever had (although you like to think of yourself as a close contender)—because he’s so good at letting you forget. he brings you ice cream (that he eats half of because it’s only fair he gets a share), and he sits and hogs your couch (that he argues you don’t really need as much space as him on because your legs aren’t as long), and he watches those stupid sitcoms that are dry with boring jokes (that you used to make suguru watch back in the day).

it’s hard to remember that satoru also lost as much as you because he’s so damn good at making you forget about your own loss, you don’t care to think about anyone else’s for a while. just a short while. just until he’s yawning that obnoxiously loud yawn and stretching those awkwardly long limbs of his before he claims he really should go and that being the world’s best teacher requires as many hours of beauty sleep as you can squeeze in.

and then he’s off. and it’s empty again. and just like that, you’re reminded of why he was there in the first place—to fill in that sick and painful void that geto suguru left in you.

it’s gaping, like he tore a chunk of you right out with sharp teeth, like you’re just a piece of meat for him to get his fill of. if suguru really loved you, would you be so easy to let go of? why couldn’t he smile? because you could—god, you could smile just from the sight of him alone, you realize a long time ago. him with his cigarette tucked between his lips, those death sticks as you called them, hung loosely from his mouth as he gives you a lopsided grin.

geto suguru is enough of a reason to smile. the world could crumble at your feet and leave you with nothing but rubble and dirt, and still, suguru is the core of the earth you’re searching for.

so why couldn’t you be the same? what is it you were missing? what about you was just not enough for him like the way he was enough for you?

it dawns on you one night, through bitter tears and shaky sobs, and that sick, twisted, pleading feeling in your gut that begs the wind to carry him back to you—geto suguru has never loved you the way you loved him.

and for that, you can never forgive him, you don’t think.

“you tryin’ to go bug-eyed?” he asks, settling down on the couch next to you, making you snap out of your trance. you shake your head a little, stare back at him for a moment before putting on that look on your face where you roll your eyes and pretend everything is fine.

“no,” you huff, “i’m just thinking.”

“about…?”

“satoru has rarely ever missed a movie night.”

“maybe he’s sick of you,” he shrugs, grinning slyly at you as you narrow your eyes with a glare, “there’s someone here to keep you company now so he’s probably taken his opportunity to run.”

“you’re hardly company,” you scoff, “freeloader.”

“hey,” he defends, shrugging as if it’s not his fault. you suppose it’s not. “i didn’t ask to be rescued. you can’t be high and mighty and petty. ‘s not how that works.”

“says who? you don’t make the rules. i can be graciously kind and a jerk all at once.”

“complexity,” he nods, “i like it.”

“i’m not as complicated as you might think,” you grumble, crossing your arms as you stare at the time. yeah, satoru isn’t making it—which, he told you as much, but he’s strolled in at the last second too many times to count before. you figure today would be the same. “as long as you don’t skip movie nights with me, i’m pretty simple to keep appeased.”

“alright,” he props his feet up on the coffee table—seriously, what is it with asshole men putting their feet on your table? satoru is a terrible influence. “let’s have a movie night.”

“what?” you blink.

“movie night,” he repeats, “you said you don’t like skipping movie night—”

“well, i meant i don’t like satoru skipping movie—”

“well, it was me before satoru, wasn’t it?” he says with a smile. his eyes are closed, crinkled at the corners, but his voice is carefully neutral—like he takes extra care not to let you see any emotion behind it.

but that only means there is an emotion, isn’t there? is he jealous? does he hate the fact that you and satoru have a routine of your own without him? that you don’t need him to continue living your life?

good. he should be. he walked out on you all those years ago. he killed a village. killed his parents. you never even got to meet them—he never even got to take you home and introduce you to them before he ripped away every fantasy you ever had with him.

and now he’s back—he has the audacity to live, to laugh in your face with his existence that yes, geto suguru is here. and he was supposed to be executed, but your stubborn friend didn’t let that happen. he was supposed to be your husband by now with kids and a happy little home, and you were supposed to be his parent’s new addition to their family that they loved so much. but none of that is even close to happening, and it’s suguru’s fault, and the least he can do is show you some regret and maybe feel just the slightest bit bad that you now have to watch shitty movies with his best friend instead of him to feel normal.

ex-best friend? half best friend? you don’t even know—do they still consider each other their best friends? does anyone consider suguru anything? you don’t know what you consider him. but you think the least he can do is act just the slightest bit pathetic after making you feel so pathetic for so long just to even the score.

he should be a stranger. he feels like an old friend. but either is dangerous.

“alright,” you sigh, “let's bring back movie night. don’t fall asleep.”

“i get plenty of sleep nowadays,” he hums, “i have more than enough free time for that now.”

“how lucky of you,” you snort.

—

picking a movie with suguru is difficult. he actually has standards—satoru watches anything so long as he gets snacks, and he can make anything fun to watch with the way he comments from the side like a critic. suguru, on the other hand, actually cares about the quality of a movie, the metrics that make it good.

so you pick the hunger games just to piss him off.

“seriously?” he raises a brow, “this is your pick?”

“yes,” you grin, “i like these movies.”

“of all movies—”

“my house, my rules,” you grin cheekily, “you can pick the movies as soon as you start paying the bills.”

“wow,” he deadpans, “stooping to use my financial status against me? i thought you were better than this.”

“oh suguru,” you sigh dramatically, grabbing a bag of chips from the table, “you don’t know me at all.”

all things considered, you think it’s a rather enjoyable experience. it’s not as fun without satoru’s stupid comments that you pretend to hate, but suguru provides his own commentary that earns a giggle out of you here and there too—although his are not meant to be funny. but that’s the appeal of it, you think.

“she should have picked gale,” he mumbles. you raise a brow.

“peeta was always there for her, did you miss the rain scene?”

“so was gale,” he says smoothly, grabbing a chip from your bag and making you scowl.

“gale killed her sister,” you point out, “and a lot of other people too. he was ruthless. she needed peeta.”

“gale did what he had to do,” suguru mumbles.

suddenly, it doesn’t really feel like you’re discussing the movie anymore. it feels more than that. it feels sickening—the air is heavy, and your throat is dry and god, you just wanted a movie night and not this heaviness as you talk about stuff from the past without actually talking about it.

you blink before turning to your chips, playing around with the bag as you shrug.

“in the end he didn’t get katniss, did he?”

suguru studies you for a moment, stares a little too deep into you that you start to feel the urge to bolt to your room and go to bed.

“guess not,” he says quietly, “guess that’s the one regret he has, huh?”

you think for a second, as suguru stares at your eyes with something you can’t quite read, that you might cry. you might cry and throw that half-empty can of soda in his face for speaking in codes and making you question what he means and remember your past. you might cry because suguru could’ve always gotten you—in fact, he had you.

it’s not fair. nothing is, but you can’t help but dwell on it.

“i’m going to bed. it’s late,” you mumble after a few moments, standing. he only nods, staring at the tv as the credits roll. when you make it to your room and the door shuts behind you, you debate clicking the lock in place.

in the end, you don’t lock the door. suguru climbs into bed with you once more later that night, shaking slightly from his nightmare but calmer than usual. he’s still gone by the time morning comes, and you still never mention it.

it hits you one night that maybe he still has you—maybe you never let him stop having you, no matter what you say.

————————————————

suguru is good at cleaning while you’re away. you have to go out and do adult things like breadwinning and grocery shopping and bill paying. he dusts and cleans and even takes out the trash when you’re home to monitor him as he steps two feet out of your front door. sometimes, because you like to get on his nerves, you accidentally mess up a corner of the house just as he cleans it, laughing as he shoots you an unimpressed look.

“stop getting crumbs on the floor,” he mumbles, “i just vacuumed.”

“you make a good malewife,” you giggle, “vacuuming and everything. how cute.”

“don’t call me that,” he grumbles, sitting down on the couch.

“but you missed a spot,” you point to the crumbs you’ve sprinkled from your fingers as you snack away, making him glare. “failwife.”

“i’m going to divorce you and take everything,” he snaps, making you snort as you put your hands up in surrender.

“you don’t have to, you know,” you murmur, “clean, i mean. i can handle it.”

“i think i should carry my weight around here,” he shrugs, “since you are basically sugar babying me around for now.”

“dangerous curse user to the world, but sugar baby to me,” you tease, pulling a chuckle out of him as he rolls his eyes.

sometimes it’s nice to have his company. suguru is good with banter like that, he’s not annoying like satoru where you run in circles. suguru makes you laugh from your belly, makes the hiccups catch in your throat as you double over. he’s always been like that, always known how to make laughter pour from your lips and trickle down your chin. it’s comforting to know he still knows how. it leaves a small amount of bitterness that he’s still able to make you feel like this.

“by the way, next time you go shopping, take me with you,” he says casually, “i need to buy stuff for my hair. it’s growing.”

“you’ll finally see the sun just for your hair?” you gasp, “who knew that’s all it’d take?”

despite the playfulness in your words, there’s still shock. suguru is willingly stepping foot outside your house. he’s finally choosing to return to life after living like a recluse no matter how many times you and satoru have tried to beg him to get up and go somewhere. the most you can get out of him is a walk around the neighborhood before he goes back to wandering your home and hiding away in his room.

suguru is returning to life, his life, and you can’t help but wonder where that leaves room for you.

“my hair is my charm,” he reasons, “wouldn’t you agree?”

there’s a smirk on his lips when he asks—it’s like he’s seventeen and teasing you again, giving you that unfairly flirty smile that used to make you stutter as a kid. back when you were hopelessly in love. back when it was you, suguru, and the world in your corner. back when you had dreams of your future, practically giggling as you planned it away in a notebook.

suguru was always perfect like that, the kind of guy you could only dream about. he’s always been handsome—he’s always been the center of attention everywhere you went. you used to huff about it, about all the attention he managed to get from walking into a room alone. but then he’d smile, give you that tender look of his as he’d chuckle, and you’d be hopeless again.

he shouldn’t have that effect on you anymore after over a decade. but he does. it’s cruel, the way the universe works. it’s like there’s a magnet that pushes you together no matter how far you try to go, still pulled by gravity straight into his awaiting eyes and devilish smile.

“i cut your hair off once, i can do it again,” you huff. he laughs, it’s good-natured and kind.

“i was a bit heartbroken when i realized it was so short, i have to admit,” he says, “i didn’t look like me.”

“you looked good,” you say quietly, “i think you’d make anything work, to be honest.”

“yeah?” he grins, “any requests? i might consider it if it’s you.”

“oh shut up,” you roll your eyes, “how about shaving your head bald? let's see how much charm you have without all that hair.”

“i could charm you without the hair still, couldn’t i?” he winks.

it’s unfair how he acts like normal. like a few months in your home undoes everything he’s ever committed, all the atrocities he’s caused. the way he flirts with you feels like you’re his again. the way he’s aged and changed feels like you’re meeting someone new. you don’t understand how suguru is so natural with that—with seamlessly falling back into a rhythm with you like nothing has changed at all.

deep down, you know that suguru is just moving on with his life. he’s making the most of what he can. he can’t die, satoru would never let him have a peaceful death after all this. he can’t go back to the way things used to be, whether that’s his sorcery days or his curse user days, and he certainly can’t start over. so he’s making do with what he has—which is very little in reality.

it’s you, your home, and the biweekly visits from satoru and occasionally shoko. so he weaves you seamlessly into his life and treats you with a sense of normalcy you can’t hope to treat him with. maybe it’s because suguru was actually able to move on after he left.

it’s the part you hated him most for. for building a family with new people. for having two girls that he raised as daughters. for finding people to follow him and trust. suguru, after he walked away from everything he ever knew, actually did something with his life—even if it could hardly be considered good.

you? you fell deeper and deeper into a pit of denial until clawing your way back out was too impossible, until you had to leave behind everything you’ve ever known to get away from the remnants of his existence.

it’s easy for him to weave you back into his life because he chose to cut you loose. it feels damn near impossible to let him weave back into yours after he tore himself from the edges and frayed away.

“don’t do that,” you sigh, making him frown.

“do what?”

“you know what, suguru,” you pinch your nose in frustration, “stop acting like things are normal.”

“things are definitely not normal,” he snorts bitterly, “i think needing your approval to take the trash out is not equal to normal.”

“then why are you acting like…” you trail off, unsure.

“like what?” he raises a brow.

“like we never changed,” you slam your hands down on the couch in exasperation.

he stares at you for a minute, blinks once, then twice, and then furrows his brows.

“well, of course we changed,” he mumbles in confusion, “i know that—”

you shouldn’t have said anything. you quickly realize that. suguru is not trying to act like things are normal—he’s trying to be civil, and you’re just a fool. a fool who looks too deeply into everything and assumes what you want to out of things and god, you’ve embarrassed yourself in front of your one and only ex-boyfriend in over a decade who was once dead and somehow came back to the land of the living.

of course, he knows things are not the same. he doesn’t want what you think he does. it’s been years and suguru has moved on—he had already moved on all those years ago, and you’re the only one here that is still focused on the past. and now he knows it too.

you stand before he can finish, nodding as you stare down instead of meeting his eyes, pretending to adjust your clothes.

“right, of course you do,” you nod, “i don’t know why i said that. just ignore me, i’ll be going to my room now. i have…things to do, so i’ll be—”

“hang on,” he frowns, hand grabbing your wrist, “i don’t mean it like that,” he says gently.

fuck geto suguru for being so confusing and fuck him for being nice about it too.

“you can let go, suguru,” you pull at your wrist, “forget what i said, i wasn’t thinking—”

“i still feel the same,” he cuts you off, making your eyes widen, “if that’s what you mean. i never stopped.”

never stopped—that’s almost worse than moving on. how could he have felt the same all those years and still never come back?

“that does not help even a little,” you swallow the lump in your throat. “that makes this so much worse, do you see that?”

“i know,” he sighs, “i’m sor—”

“don’t say you’re sorry,” you grit your teeth, “we both know you’re not.”

“maybe not,” he admits, “i had to try. and that meant leaving—i’m sorry that’s not what you wanted.”

“it’s not!” you turn around, pulling your arm out of his grasp—suguru, for what it’s worth, takes the shove to his chest like a champ. “of course i didn’t want you to leave and kill a bunch of people and have an execution stamped on your forehead and live your life without me.”

“i know—”

“and now you’re back. back! in my house, eating my food and sleeping in my bed for half the night and i just have to act like this is normal. how is any of this normal?”

“it’s not,” he agrees. he’s calm. so calm, it almost makes you mad. why is he so calm? “nothing about anything in our lives is normal. it never was.”

“you ruined my life,” you blink back tears. he smiles sadly, taking a step closer.

“i guess i can take the blame for that,” he nods, hands finding their way to your hips. against your better judgment, you lean half your weight against his body. this is bad, very bad—but it’s also the best thing ever.

being close to suguru feels like the sun’s heat tearing through your skin—it’s warm. it’s pleasant. it leaves you parched and drained with a dry throat. but still, you need it to survive.

“why did you come back?” you ask tiredly. his hand finds the small of your back, rubbing slow circles.

“i don’t know,” he hums, “i didn’t really get a say. maybe i was always meant to, who knows?”

you look at him at that—tilt your head to get a good look at his features. his eyes are more tired, and his cheeks are a bit more sunken in compared to the youthful flesh you remember him with. his hair isn’t as healthy, and his forehead has the slightest traces of pale marks from the scars. but he’s still suguru—and you have always loved suguru, even if he gives you every reason to hate him.

“you make my life unreasonably difficult,” you mutter.

he hums, smiling. “can i?” he asks breathlessly, pleadingly. you stare at his eyes, he stares at your lips. you know what he wants—but fuck, you can’t let him have it so easy.

“can you what?” you ask, raising a brow slowly.

“are you really gonna make me say it?” he grunts, lips almost curled into a pout. it’s cute, the way he looks longingly at your lips—it’s so cute and beautiful and dangerous all at once, just like suguru.

“yes,” you say, “yes i am. i deserve to hear it suguru, after everything you put me through. you…you left me. i wasn’t enough for you. i mourned you. i grieved a body i never even saw. do you know what that does to a person? to lose them not once but two times? the least you could do is tell me what you want,” your voice wavers just a little.

it shakes for the lost time. for the moments you’ll never have. for the memories you lost. for the past that’s tainted. time is cruel like that. but that’s the beauty of it all—the fragility. it’s like sand falling through the cracks of your fingers, every grain slipping from your reach but still soft and soothing against your skin as it falls. everything fades over time, everything starts to hurt one way or another. but it stops. it heals. it starts over. the sand fills the cup of your palms again, warm and delicate and just as beautiful as before it crumbled.

“can i kiss you?” he asks desperately, “please?”

“kissing me is not a temporary thing,” you shake your head, “not anymore. it’s for good. only for good.”

“i want to kiss you for good,” he nods, hands digging into your hips impatiently. you’re close. you’re too far. he can feel you, smell you, hear your unsteady breaths. but it’s not enough. he needs to devour you, taste you on his tongue, and melt you with his touch. “i won’t stop this time,” he promises.

“you better not,” you sniffle, tears blurring your vision. you hated suguru for leaving you. you hated him for coming back to you like this. you never stopped loving him, never will stop loving him—and maybe that’s what love is. when the darkness is worth trekking through for the afterglow of the light. “if you fucking leave me again, you’re dead to me. i don’t care how many times you come back to life. you’re dead to me.”

“okay,” he agrees through a shaky chuckle, “i suppose i deserve that. let me kiss you, yeah?”

“yeah,” you breathe.

he kisses you—years too late, he kisses you. it feels like you’re teenagers again. it feels different and foreign. you know this feeling like the back of your hand. you don’t understand what this sensation is anymore. it’s new. it’s old. it’s perfect. it hurts. suguru is here. he promised not to leave—you don’t know if you believe him, but you’re going to trust that finally, for once, you are enough.

you’re enough to make him happy. to give him a sense of purpose. to keep him swimming when his limbs start to sink.

finally, for once, you’re enough.

“i love you,” he whispers against your mouth, breathing the words into you like he’s offering you the air from his lungs, “i never stopped. i promise.”

“you don’t deserve to hear it from me,” you murmur back, panting against his lips, “not yet.”

“fair enough,” he chuckles, “you sure know how to leave a guy waiting.”

“i learned from the best,” you shoot back.

he grins—suguru smiles, heartfelt and real. life is full of misery, it’s painful, and nothing fucking makes sense. everything is cruel. everything dies no matter how carefully you water the roots. there’s always something, someone, ready to tear it from the earth. but if you keep planting the seeds, suguru will keep watering.

maybe something kind can bloom from that, something big enough for him to hide under the shade when the scorching heat of tragedy becomes too much.

in this world or in the jujutsu world; in this life or in the next. suguru is yours.

“why am i here?” he asks gently, his face digging into your neck. you hold him, cradling the back of his head as you hum.

“because i need you here. will you stay?”

“yes,” he murmurs, “i think i’ll stay.”

hi. i have been working on this since march. its still not how i envisioned it to be originally but that's okay. i had fun writing it and it means a lot to me even tho its kind of. well....cliche LMAO like everything i write. but. i enjoy the cliches okay ?? i do. kxljchskdf hope u guys didn't hate it </3

also the fic banner is …. not the greatest. just ignore it ok

#teepods.writings #fics.#geto x reader #geto x you #geto fluff #geto angst #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jjk angst #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto suguru angst #geto suguru fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen angst #jujutsu kaisen fluff

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faeryarchives · 3 months

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catch me (diasomnia x gn!reader)

requested by anon: hi, hopefully your request still open! can i request for diasomnia? where the boys kabedon mc, resulting them blushing so hard then the physical closeness enough to make mc pass out there. yeah it's kinda romantic and crack in the same time. note: delayed bc my bed broke haha (loose screw) + i got sick... requests are still not open this is a request from long time ago 😓 yuu and reader are different ppl! u have no idea how i love this (made sebek's part kinda angsty idk) 🤍 !! recent works: hey chat (first years x gn!streamer yuu!) divider credits to @cafekitsune !! her works are so pretty real 🤍

-‘๑’- malleus draconia (3rd year ramshackle dorm leader - beanfest)

'it seems like i am on the farmer's team this year. how about you, treasure?' your eyes landed on your dorm mates chilling in the lounge - eyes sparkling in unknown excitement. "what team did you and grim got assigned to?" "oh, (name)-senpai! we got assigned to the farmers team!" a shiver ran down yuu's spine after a smirk plays around the edges of your mouth. "(name)-senpai?" "that means i'll be on the monster team, huh? good luck tomorrow!" "wait, we are going up against you?!"

the survival of the beanest - the event that most students are waiting for while some of them loathes it

given that you, grim and yuu are the only members of your dorm, it was natural for you to be opposing teams -> leading you to face off against your lover, thee malleus draconia

its not often you would be on opposite sides in anything after all

after the orientation about the rules, students started to group according to their teams leaving you and malleus alone together. the fae had the most dejected everyone ever seen. he slowly took your hand in his, holding it tightly as if he doesn't want you to go to the other side. "what a shame, we could've bond over this." "you silly fae, who said we couldn't bond over this?" in a blink of an eye, malleus found himself being hugged. as if waiting for this moment, the soothing wind picked up scent of fresh lavender invaded his senses, reviving his spirits - as malleus watch you bury your face to his shoulder. before he could wrap his arms around your frame - you pulled away, grinning. "let's have fun, yeah?" "heheh, it seems i won’t be bored today."

not being able to get even a good luck kiss from you made the diasomnia leader a menace because he will lock his target for real and he will make sure he finds his target (ok this going the wrong way)

while the farmers' team looked formidable having most of the housewardens, it couldn't be denied that the monster team have the athletic and agile members - including you

you were pretty confident in your skills really and having to plan with azul and the others really gave you more confidence and boost so it will probably go well!

"there are so many players who got eliminated immediately huh?" after eliminating more than enough players, you and lilia start to scurry through the woods, you see players of opposite teams now leaning on trees looking defeated and exhausted. "well that is because all the youngsters are thrilled to let out their fun!" chimed lilia as he float next to you, his laughing smile was a clear sign of his amusement that made you a little wary. "so, i heard someone challenged our malleus to a little game. i wonder who might that be?" "hahaha how silly, who would challenge mal anyway?" the fae stared at you for a solid minute before smiling ever so eerily. the two of you exchange no more words, only hearing the rustling of wind as you run - that is until a shadow jumped right in front of you, almost bumping into it if it weren't for your reflexes. "holy-" "... good luck little bat." in an instant, lilia vanished, leaving you with the diasomnia leader. one look at him and his devilish smile was a charming mask for his mischief. "i found you."

from the start it was already hopeless to think you would be able to take him down, so you resorted to one thing - playing a game of tag

and the other students didn't even dare to step close to you because holy moly, malleus was beaming!

you don't know how long you were running for. one minute? five minutes? thirty? it felt like you already ran through the whole campus yet malleus doesn't make any move to capture you- or so you thought. "come on, treasure. don't strain yourself." you could feel him just right behind you, his deep voice ringing in your ear and sending shivers throughout your body. "this wasn't supposed to go this way- ah!" turning around, you see malleus face very close to yours causing you to trip over a large tree root and your hand grabbing the nearest one next to you - which is malleus as you both fell to the grassy ground with a loud thud near your ears. head throbbing from the fall, eyes squinting as the sunlight decided to shine on you at the moment. "... lright, (name)?" you could barely make out the voice calling out your name and after a solid minute, you finally regain your senses. "malleus?" (eye color) eyes locked onto bright green eyes blinking rapidly as malleus panic, but that was the least of your concern. because all you know right now is that you are under the fae - his arms and legs caging you in, you can barely even move! one of his hand is on your cheek, caressing it ever so gently like you were made out of glass. what set the alarm go off in your head is the non existing distance between your faces, noses are almost touching and lips one inch away from another. "are you alright, my treasure? did you hit your head hard? shall i burn the ground?" before anything else, malleus heard you mumble something inaudible, confused as why you start to cover your face with your hands. nevertheless, wanting to prioritize your being over anything, malleus leaned in closer, eyebrows furrowed as he gently pry off your hand over your face. "can you repeat that again...?" his voice grew softer and softer as he finally put the pieces together after seeing your cheeks blossomed like a flower over the years, even your ears were burning red. "...i surrender." "so i win?" ever so curious, the fae decided to lean in more - casually rubbing his nose with yours so casually causing you to blow a fuse.

while your group won in the end, i think we all know who the real winner is 😊

-‘๑’- lilia vanrouge (3rd year ramshackle dorm leader- stitch tropical turbulence)

right now, you don't know why a little blue ball of sunshine named stitch is clinging onto your shoulder, comforting you.

honestly you don't know how you got dragged into the whole mess. you even rarely go to the library!

if anything it is crazy that you got teleported in another dimension on the day you decided to read some books in the library (like literally staying inside)

just as you were about to go to the other side of the library, you find yourself following the familiar sound of your friends chatting away. walking right at the corner, familiar faces filled your vision. "woah, what are you all doing here? this is an unusual big group." "dorm leader, what are you doing here? you don't come to the library often." "nothing, just a change of pace for today. i just feel like doing it." "oh, little bat!" a blur of black and green rush suddenly rush in and tackling you into a hug that you reciprocated without batting an eye, which to everyone's surprise. "hello to you too, lils. what are you up to?" running through his hair affectionately, the fae started to share what they previously talked about before you arrive. "i miss you." "lils, we just saw each other like two hours ago." as if your words just entered one ear and exited the other, lilia wrapped his arms around you tighter, burying his face into your shoulder. "mrah?! what's going on? it's so bright?!" and being lost in your own world, you didn't notice how grim and floyd proceed to open the book - engulfing your group in a bright light. and that is how you find yourself alone in the island.

for some reason, the book wanted you to be separated from the group - waking up with small blue little guy next to you, shaking you awake

you didn't know when and how long you were out for but you are pretty sure you are alone - except for the owner of the soft small paws patting all over your face. eyes fluttering open, you find yourself face to face with a blue... koala? "...huh? what-" from the corner of your eye, you see a large figure pointing something at your direction - emitting a laser which is surely going to hit if it weren't for you rolling out of the way. "what was that for?! are you alright?" you scanned through the koala for any injury, its curious eyes watching you carefully. "another one of those humans? never mind that, give me experiment 626 this moment." the mysterious being slowly made its way to you, loud thud following with each step. "you mean this little fella...?" your blue furry friend was hiding behind you, snarling - arms multiplying?! but the thing that caught your eye is the charm hanging around his neck because it's the one you made for lilia not too long ago. "lilia's charm..." as if hearing a familiar name, 626 immediately perked up as if realizing something. "stitch is friend! not enemy!" it garbled, waving his arms in the air trying to prove its innocence. "lilia gave stitch necklace!"stitch thought that you might not understand but to his surprise - you quickly stood up on your feet and started to run away from gantu. "you are making a big mistake, human! that is no ordinary creature - 626 could destroy anything its path!" you looked over your shoulder, and stitch could see your eyes sparkling with mischief and curiosity. "sorry but no way i am trusting you over my lover. let's go stitch!"

it became a game of hide and seek and actually having stitch as your company wasn't bad + he even helped you to reunite with your friends who somehow came into the island a day before you

surprisingly lilia was nowhere to be seen, others saying he went out to explore so you ventured the island once more

having to explore with no interference like robots attacking you or even gantu pointing his laser gun, you finally get to enjoy the island's beauty. blanket of golden sands, palm trees swaying gently, hearing the waves lapping at the shore and the taste of salt on your lips- everything was just so refreshing. "... i wanted to spend this moment with lilia too." you muttering dejectedly, feeling lonely due to the absence of your favorite bat fae. with your mind wandering somewhere else and mindlessly kicking through the fine sand, you failed to notice how someone creeping up behind you. noticing the presence a little too late, a faint whisper drifts through the air, seeming to come from everywhere at once. a pair of arms wrapped themselves around your waist "it seems like the wind guided my way to you." you yelped, pulling and jumping away to glare at the floating lilia, who is now giggling and flying circles around you. "lilia! you scared me!" "that was but a little surprise, my love. i missed you too." seeing how you stomp your foot on the ground, lilia descended from the air to stand in front of you, poking your cheeks playfully. "forgive me please?" still feeling a little embarrassed, you refused to look at him in the eyes and turned the other way. but the ever so persistent vice dorm leader of diasomnia refuse to back down. he took small steps towards to which you respond by taking small steps backward until you find yourself backed up on a tree. 'oh fuck.' as if reading your mind, lilia didn't even give you time to escape by slapping his hand on to the tree behind, trapping you in. "(nickname), can you forgive me?" "..." "love?" "(name) (last name)." his other hand caressing your cheek so fondly as he turn your head to look at him. his eyes widening in surprise seeing your face turned into shade of beet red, eyes looking everywhere interesting other than him. seeing you all embarrassed made him tease you even more, leaning in even more until your foreheads are touching "please?" as if imitating an oven, lilia watched your completely turn red and smoke coming off you. the next thing he knew, you fainted in his arms, your eyes spiraling. "...oops."

there were questions lingering in the air when lilia returned to the bungalow with you fainted in his arms, but that is for another time.

-‘๑’- sebek zigvolt (yuu's twin - phantom bride)

while everyone got to have an audience with eliza, they expected that they would be following the plan flawlessly because surely there are nothing that can ruin the flow. until they utterly failed in wooing the lady. you shocked them even more by walking so freely in the venue, waving at them with sheepish grin on your face. "well if this isn't awkward!" "(name) how did you get caught too?!" "oh, that is a good question..." sebek could feel his inside sour as he watch eliza wrap her arms around you in an oh so gleeful way - the nerve! even sebek himself doesn't have the courage to do the same thing! "oh my dear friend, you really came!" "but of course! i don't really have a choice..."

well apparently eliza took you too to be her best friend to the wedding - you were at the wrong place at the wrong time and you fit her requirements!

you could run anytime you want but leaving your gaming buddy alone was too cruel, especially when he is begging for his life for you to stay 😭

"... are you guys still there?" asking something so obvious to the all frozen students who got slapped by the bride made them look at you as if you were a lunatic. "what do you think, (name)?" "not my fault you guys decided to make it a competition..." mumbling that last part loud enough to tease vil and leona while sending rest of them an apologetic stare - you turn your attention to the next candidate for eliza, which is sebek. questions start to run though your mind after sharing an eye contact with your lover - trying to talk through nonverbal cues only for him to get the wrong idea. seeing how he pumped his fist was a bad omen already. "he is going to be one of us, isn't he?" a chorUs of agreement rang out from the eliminated squad, watching as their soon to be companion approach the ghost bride. "what is your name?" "MY NAME IS SEBEK ZIGVOLT!" the bride stopped, as if sensing something in the air, wondering why this man in front of her looked determined even though his friends are now her captives. nevertheless she went on with the audience. "how would you know if you are in love and how would you love someone?" usually, everyone would expect sebek to burst into a ranting fit about love and how will it be related to malleus and waited for a minute, then five minutes then another but they were only met with silence. "... you wish to ask me questions about love, ghost?" sebek carefully asked eliza, disbelief written all over his face as the bride nodded yes to his question. "he is going to fail this one." leona yawned, just wanting everything to be over with. sebek slowly blinked his eyes, arms crossing in front of his chest as he drown himself in his own thoughts. "...you wouldn't know immediately if you are in love, it will just sink in your mind on a random day that maybe you treat someone a little more special than others. that you can't really see a future where they are not there." his words trailing off. "and how would you love someone? that is a stupid question." sebek glanced at your direction and it felt ike he was saying it to you rather than eliza. "just give it your all. and love unconditionally. it doesn't matter if you are the most powerful ruler, the richest man or just a normal person in the world. if both of you knew you share the same feelings - everything will just click in place." no one dared to speak after sebek's speech as he rendered everyone at loss of words. eliza knew everything was perfect, his answers were good but why does it feel like- "those are not for me." she then turn to look at you, gaze softening at the realization. "you're out." eliza hesitantly raised her hand, ready to strike when you suddenly ran past the two - but not without grabbing sebek's hand. "sorry eliza, this one is off limits."

you sweatdropped after hearing your friends screaming you name

maybe it's the short time that you get to know eliza helped you to gain her trust even just a bit as you noticed how there weren't any ghost soldiers following behind as you stopped running at the hallway.

not to be that person but crowley can find other people to resolve this issue, not just passing responsibilities to children.

the only thing you need to do is to get to your sibling safely - right?

"what were you doing back there (name)? it could be dangerous for you!" shocked from the volume of his voice, you jumped while holding your still linked hands together close to your chest. if sebek didn't look worried back there, he was certainly playing the part even more now. "sebek, the whole campus is filled with ghosts." "and i was looking for you the whole day! you weren't even answering your phone, your sibling didn't have any idea either!" you didn't know how you backed up into the wall but now you have nowhere to go. sebek was zooming in without him noticing. "do you know how worried i was? i thought you vanished into thin air!" "love, we can-" the unexpected then happened, sebek slammed his hand to the wall right next to your head and buried his head into the crook of your shoulder, giving your jaw small kisses. "don't do that again, please. at least give me a heads up first..." stuck in the same position for a few minutes, sebek was starting to get worried when you fell all silent on him causing him to peek at your face only to see you overheating on the spot. "(NICKNAME)?" "i'm fine..." "you are not fine at all!"

-‘๑’- silver (2nd year ramshackle dorm student - white rabbit fest)

being able to visit one of your dorm mate's friends was incredible - never would you imagine that you would be joining the white rabbit fest with your lover, silver!

he was the one who actually invited you, which was rare because you were often the one who plan for the date

it was a saturday morning, with all your pending tasks and reports finished - you finally had the time to laze and goof around. a perfect day just to lie and watch your favorite series until a knock from the dorm's entrance rang out through the empty building. "huh, yuu and grim wouldn't probably knock at their own dormitory... must be ace and deuce." you stared at the open space, debating if you should succumb to your laziness and ignore the person on the door or stand up and see who it is.

" i'm too lazy to stand up." groaning, you buried your head into your pillow and waiting for the person to go away. "(name) are you inside?" ears perking up, body moving before your brain could process, you find yourself right in front of the ramshackle's door within thirty seconds and tackling your boyfriend into a big hug. "silver! what are you doing here? come in!" leading the knight inside, you both find yourselves in the lounge with your head on his lap and your hands playing with his. "i wanted to ask if you could come with me to the queendom of hearts and celebrate the white rabbit festival." hearing that made you froze in the spot. "(name)?" "is that a date i hear?" "i heard there are good dating spots there-" "SAY NO MORE!"

no was not really an option because its a great opportunity! heck, you even planned a whole itinerary on the outing

researching about deuce place makes you feel like you know his hometown more than himself.

when the day finally came you were so thrilled and overjoyed especially when everyone changed into their rabbit costume thanks to deuce's mom

"aww, yuu looks like a lost child in that suit." while waiting for the others to finish changing, you teased your prefect and bumped their nose playfully with your finger. "hey that is not nice at all! i am so telling silver." yuu grumbled, fixing their hat to hide their face from you, grumbling something inaudible. at the mention of the knight, you scanned the area and not one silver hair was found in sight. "where is silver? if i recall, he was the first one to change clothes..." "(name) i am right behind you." when you turned around to face the sound of the voice, your eyes lightened up like christmas lights on christmas day seeing silver looking very dashing and cute in his suit. "i need to send this to lilia, you look so good!" "(nickname), you look great too, as always. you are really perfect in everything." yuu laughed when you finally fell silent and tears started to roll down your face, making silver suddenly go to panic mode. "you can't just say that to me silver-!" "sorry, i love you." "i hate my life as a third wheel. where is grim when you needed him the most." yuu muttered bitterly.

exploring the town and everything it has to offer, it was no surprise that you were having the time of your life.

especially when silver youd pull you to the side and give you the things he not iced that you were looking at while walking - even got you both a matching pocket watch clock 🥹

but it couldn't be denied where you will eventually get unwanted attention

while the first year group went to try out some rides that ortho found nearby, you and silver finally got to spend your time alone together - that is until something caught his eye that prompt him to stand up and leave for a moment. turns out there were eyes waiting at the right time to do their plan. one by one the group of strangers made their way towards you "are you all alone?" they waited for a response or even a reaction from you but to no avail because your eyes and attention were stuck onto your phone. "hey, do you ignore us!" "people like you really ruins my day." this seemed to set off a wave of irk mark among the men. there were other people around the area but we all know no one really wants got get involve in a battle where you are fighting just to lose your honor in the end but these guys were persistent. "come on, it's not that b-" the man tried to reach out to you and just when you were about to leave and meet at another place with silver- a hand shot through between the tiny space, a loud thud of metal ringing as silver put his arm in the way, shielding you from those guys and stared deep into their souls. "i believe they said they are fine." silver turned his attention to you close and gave you a small kiss on the cheek. "were they bothering you, my love?" "... i'm alright! i could kick their ass anytime anyway!" seeing how you got absorbed in your own worlds, the strangers took it as a sign and leave without even looking back. "(name), are you alright?" turning his head back to look at you, silver was taken aback when he saw literal smoke coming out of your head and your face radiates heat at this point. to make it even worse - silver leaned in closer making your foreheads touch each other. "(name), you are burning up! we need to get some help from ortho!" "i don't think ortho can save my heart from this..." and if it wasn't enough, silver kept you really close to him - arm to arm, hand in hand and noses almost touching. one more inch and silver would surely kiss you on acc-. a child no older than 6 bumped into silver's legs causing him to close the deal and kiss you accidentally. "oof, sorry about that!" *1, 2 ,3 WARNING WARNING! (AME) SYSTEM SHUTTING DOWN!* "my love!" and that was the final straw and your last memory before fainting was silver carrying you in his arms. so cute, he is not even a knight in shining armor but a rabbit knight. BEST DATE EVER.

#twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland scenarios #twst scenarios #twst imagines #twisted wonderland #malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia #lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia vanrouge #sebek zigvolt x reader #sebek x reader #silver x reader #twst silver #diasomnia #twst x reader #a.diasomnia #faeryarchives

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cjjohansson · 15 days

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what if love isn't enough?

natasha romanoff x reader // part 1...

angst? yes. sad? yes. am i sorry? no x x x

“Were you going to tell me?” you breathe out into the room, Natasha stills when she hears your voice.

“Tell you what?” She tries to act innocent but you know better. You won’t fall into her games right now.

“That you're seeing some girl, some doctor in the medbay?” Natasha stays quiet, and part of you feels like you can hear your heart break.

“Ha, ok, nice. See you around Natasha.” And now it is her turn to feel like she can hear her own heart break too.

You and Natasha have a long history. Years of flirting turned into a one night stand, which led to multiple dates. Which then turned into a relationship that floated naturally, without one another having to say a thing, without actually having to verbalize it. You shared a bedroom; well not for about 3 months now, that’s how long it has been since you two separated over a stupid argument about how she didn't want you to go on a solo mission. Nights spent in that room worshiping each other, treating each other's wounds after a bad mission, comforting each other after horrible nightmares, sharing i love you’s…

How can you be with someone for 5 years and claim you love them so much that it hurts, to then start seeing someone only 2 weeks after breaking up?

Because according to a conversation you overheard in medbay, they’ve been seeing each other for just under 3 months.

You mindlessly drift through the compound, ignoring everyone who tries to speak to you, you can’t do this right now.

How can you do this when only 5 days ago, she was in your bed breathlessly moaning your name after you both needed some comfort after a bad mission?

How could she do this? That’s all that was running through your head as you approached the punching bag in the corner of the gym.

How could she start seeing someone so quickly after you broke up? How could she then sleep with you while seeing someone else and not even tell you? How could she rip your heart out all over again?

You hated it. You hated how much emotional power she held over you.

But you guessed that’s what you get for falling in love right?

“Hey.”

“Fuck off.” You huff to Bucky as he approaches the bag and holds it still, taking the force from your punches like they're nothing to him at all.

“You know…” That makes you stop. Your hands falling to your sides as you stare at him confused.

“I know what Buck?” You watch his eyes widen as he takes a step back, putting some distance between you.

“I was going to tell you, I was, I promise you. We both just got caught up in missions and when I was here you weren't, and vice versa you know?”

“I know what James? Do not make me ask a third time!” Your anger is building, you already know the answer.

“About Nat and Dr-”

“Fuck you.”

“Y/n…”

“NO! FUCK YOU!”

“Calm down, let me talk!”

“No, you don't get to talk to me. You’ve been my best friend since we were 3 years old! You kept this from me! How could you! How could you…” You sob as you turn and walk out the room. You can’t be here. Your own best friend knew? Who else knew? Everyone most likely if Bucky did.

You find yourself mindlessly drifting back through the compound, only this time no one stops to try and talk to you. You can’t imagine you look good right now, you're so close to exploding.

You end up in your bedroom, walking into your closet to grab a suitcase from the top, dragging it to your bed as you work your way through your drawers and closet, grabbing everything and anything you could get your hands on.

You need to leave, it is the only thing that you can actually think straight on. If you stay, you won’t survive. It’s been hard enough the past 3 months let alone knowing she is with someone new.

“Babe…” You don't stop grabbing clothes. You don't bother to fold them, you just throw them straight into the suitcase as quickly as you can.

“Can you let me talk, let me explain.” You stay silent. You can’t even look at her right now.

“I’m not, ugh, I’m not seeing her. I don’t know what you heard, but you know how rumors spread around here. I’m not seeing her.” You lose it.

“You're fucking her though, right?” You turn to face her, keeping the distance between you. You're so angry, you're hurt, this is ruining you.

“Y/n… We broke up.”

“Oh so that just makes it okay to go fuck someone days after we break up? 5 years of my life wasted for what? Did you actually ever even love me? Or did you just love the attention I gave you?”

“That is not fair. You know I love you, I love you so deeply that it hurts, it aches. But you were the one to walk away, don't try and act like a victim here. YOU LEFT ME! You broke my heart. So you do not have the right to stand here and be upset and angry with me for doing that, when you were the one who walked away first.” That isn’t fair, that isn’t what happened at all.

“I did NOT walk away. You gave me an ultimatum. I had to go on that mission, you knew I did-”

“YOU DIDN’T! Bucky said he would go instead! The lead up to that mission was driving you crazy, for months you had nightmares, you worked yourself to exhaustion. I tried to be there for you and you pushed me away! I stayed until I couldn't anymore! I couldn't stand by and let you ruin yourself. I left because in return it was ruining me too. Because if I stayed you would have hated me anyway.” Both of you are breathing deeply, the tension flowing around the room. How can any of this be happening? How is any of this fair to either of you?

“I love you. But you didn't love me enough to stay. So I walked away and every step I took, it fucking killed me. I stripped myself bare to you! I gave you so many parts of myself that I have never given to another person before, that I will never give to another person ever again! So yes! I slept with someone, I can hold my hands up and admit that I did. It was soon, and that was a shitting thing to do but you leaving was really fucking shitty too Y/n. I do not owe you an explanation or an apology for how I deal with my own pain, not anymore.” Natasha’s breathing picks up, tears flowing down her cheeks with no intent of stopping any time soon.

“Natasha…”

“I am not seeing her. I slept with her once. And I have regretted it every single day since it happened. Because she isn’t you, but no one is going to be you, ever. And that’s my burden to carry.” Natasha turns to leave the room but you find yourself rushing towards the door and holding it closed before she can exit. Her back is pressed against your front and all you can smell is the perfume you bought her for valentines day.

“Stay…”

“How can you expect me to stay when you wouldn’t?” Her forehead rests on the door as she continues to breathe deeply. Her words completely throw you. Because she is right.

“I know that mission drove me crazy, but I need you to understand that I needed to do what I had to do tasha or it would have ruined me even more. They…they ruined me, they took me apart and put me back together wrong over and over as they saw fit, day after day. I was the one who needed to finish it. Not anyone else. Because if I didn’t finish it, it would have eaten me alive for the rest of my life. That night, when I left, all I felt and saw was rage. They stole everything from me, I needed it to be over, and I’m sorry that it meant I had to leave you to be able to do that. But I never meant to hurt you, I never meant to ruin you too. I never meant for any of this Natasha. Believe me when I say that, please.” Your voice cracks as you rest your forehead on the back of her head. Your tears falling into her hair, you can feel her body moving from her own sobs.

“I know you didn’t. I didn’t either but we both did. How can we even move forward from this Y/n?” She turns in your hold, your forehead now resting on hers and you stare into each other's red eyes.

“I love you. After all this time, I still love you. It’s always been you, it was you yesterday, it was you 2 months ago, a year ago. It is you today, it will be you tomorrow and for the rest of my life it will be you, I love you Natasha.”

Her hand moves to your face, your own head leaning into her palm as she takes the weight of it.

“But what if love isn’t enough y/n?”

part 2

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romonova #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanov #black widow x reader #angst

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ririblogsss · 5 months

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Damian and the strays

ok look we all know the de aged dani (Danny and Dan). But what if we have siblings/ triplets, and I mean what if we take them all the same age (15/16) and make them into the most powerful trio in school . I mean you have 3 good looking individuals all siblings and in the same way, they all excel in different things (Dan-world history, Dani/Ellie- science Sports, Danny physics), but they are all so easy going and charming plus they are all jacked af.

Like tell me if i'm wrong but they would be beloved maybe popular on the downlow until they do something only fentons would risk doing. For example, orchestrating that every monday at 12:30 am the fire alarms would start and lunch would be extended for an hour more. No one can prove it, but none of them have doubts either. The triplets have their own groups but they mainly hang out with each other if you see one the other 2 are close by.

Anyways i'm thinking that one day they will actually see why the Fenton siblings are observed closely by the teacher and try to make sure they don't cause mayhem. One guy, a chad of sorts, decided he wanted to pick a fight with Dante, the more violent of the siblings. Chad didn't even finish his first insult before he was slammed through the door by Danny, who was arguably the pacifist of the 3. But the student body kind of got it. The thing is no one expected Dani (preferred name Ellie) to freaking pummel the guy.

No one saw them at school again.

It went on like this: the trio would move to one school.Would play pranks on the administration and have fun. Then someone would try something on one of them and the other 2 would pummel the person into the ground. The next day they would be gone never to return. They became an urban legend in some of the schools.

Until they came to Gotham Academy when they tried their pranks a kid would come and stop them. It was getting on their nerves. All their freaking plans down the drain all because of a snobby brat that didn't know how to mind his own. Eventually they start pranking the kid instead of the school as a revenge for ruining their fun. This leads to an all out prank war between all 4 of them (Dan backstabbed Danny and Ellie first they just followed the lead).

Soon enough the 3 of them became friends with Damian (they learned his name 4 weeks after the prank war started). The school body was half convinced that Damian and the triplets were actually long lost siblings. I mean they all have black hair, anger issues and green bluish eyes. Damian knew for a fact that he wasn't related to the Fentons; a DNA test concluded this. But that didn't mean that Damian didn't perceive the triplets as family.

Damian concludes that even if they aren't adopted into the family the Fentons belong. So that's why one day Damian brings Ellie, Danny and Dante to the family reunion. Where every relative and not so relative is there. Damian is showing them around, pointing at things around the house as a mini tour, and people are starting to notice that there are 3 new faces that they have never seen before.

there are whispers like: ‘really?! AGAIN?!?’ or “WOW im gone for 5 days and he got 3 more” and even ‘Damn so black hair, teen and probably sad backstory is the type’

The triplets looked at eachother looked at Damian and smiled like starved piranhas that have just been served a pound of meat and are ready to devore. Damian reflects it with his own devilish smile.

So all four of them start saying things out of context such as:

“I'm so glad to be here now”

“Yeah same we wouldn't have survived that hell of a chamber without you Dames”

“As long as we're no longer hunted for merely existing I don't mind staying for a while”

“Good things there weren't any actual bazookas that could have gone worse”

All four knew that out of context it seemed like the 3 siblings had been hunted and captured by some unknown person and Damian had rescued them and brought them home, but in reality they were just talking about the past paintball match they had earlier that morning.

So Bruce wanted to know some more but the rhetorical bullet, and asked “Damian… who, who are these kids” Damian proceeded to scoff and say “Why our new family members, truly father, are you incompetent. This is a family reunion hence only family or perceived family is invited” Damian tried to channel his inner 10 year old self whilst trying not to laugh. Danny and Ellie were on the same boat except they made their faces look devastated with tears in their eyes and everything looked pitiful, but on the inside they were laughing their asses off. Dante feigned indifference but he had teary eyes, from trying to stop himself from hitting the floor laughing at the devastated faces around.

Danny played his act up clearing his throat “we- we can leave if I mean we didn't know, yeah Dami said it was fine but we understand” he purposely made his voice crack to show how ‘hurt’ he was.

Ellie made herself look small so she could seem self conscious and uncomfortable with the situation.

Dante solidified them with the small sniffles he let out every few seconds.

Damian was looking to the ground to avoid being read, because right now he was shaking from laughter, and it would be clear in his face but if he angled himself right (which he did) it looked like he was silently sobbing. Danny put his arm around his shoulder, also looking towards the ground, also shaking from laughter. Dante and Ellie joined in. From an outside perspective it looked like they were extremely upset not being able to be family.

Bruce panicked seeing his younger child and 3 other kids the same age all begin to cry he just blurted out “NO no that not what i meant Damian I ment their names what are their names, and does Babs have to get involved so we can have documentation”

Damian cleared his tears and looked up at his father trying not to smirk “He is Dante, that one is Dani with an I but she prefers Ellie and that lanky one is Danny” Bruce nodded and went out the room to see if he could get started on the documents.

Once Bruce was out of the room all 4 of them burst out laughing, falling into a pile some were heard wheezing, others having maniacal laughter.

Once they finally stopped and looked at the rest of the family all four of them eerily said “he won't ever believe you” And everyone in the room shuddered. This quartet was going to bring wayyyy too much mischief into the family.

(if you're wondering where jazz is. She's in college living her best life. I mean she is a highly independent person she thrives of off living alone with a clear schedule set)

—

Also i didn't put any specific names for the previous schools or the family members bc I thought it would be better for u guys to decide who witnessed the beginning of the end.

#dc x dp #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc #dpxdc #dc x dp crossover #Damian only started this #as a way to stop the triplets from becoming rouges #The tripplets love chaos #Im 100% sure Bruce will absolutely do everything in his power to avoid heart felt convos #Cass was there and and knew abt the act but didn't say anything. She's taking them to the theater to see heathers

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luimagines · 2 months

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Steel Trap Mind (1600 Follower Raffle)

Our first place winner was @goopyartiste!

They asked for anything Warrior related so I was given total free reign. :D

Enjoy.

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

“Is he awake?”

“Is he alive?”

“Don’t speak so loudly. Everything’s going to be ok.”

“I need to see him!”

“He took a really bad hit-”

“Lost a lot of blood-”

“-amazing he even survived.”

He groans loudly and turns his head. It’s killing him- not that he wants to make a bad pun over the words he’s been overhearing. There’s voices all around him, he gathers that much. It’s bright on the other side so he keeps his eyelids closed but he can’t help the groan that escapes him as he enters into the waking world once again.

“He’s awake!”

“Oh thank the three!”

“Warrior, you’re ok!”

He huffs and figures that he should at least try to figure out where he is. At least they sound concerned over him. But who’s this Warrior they mentioned? Maybe he’s in the other bed next to him. He’s sure that there’s a lot of men in the infirmary right now. It couldn’t have only been him. He can’t seem to remember how he got here. Was the attack that bad?

What was his name? Link.

Does he have a family? No.

Is anyone waiting for him at home? No.

Where is he now? Well that's a question he has to figure out now, ain't it?

He groans again and forces his eyes open. The lights have dimmed. How considerate.

There’s a bunch of people around his bed, teary eyed and all wearing expressions of varying degrees of relief. He frowns. Who are they?

“I’m so happy you’re alright.” You say. You reach down and take his hand, holding it gently. Your other hand comes up to caress his cheek, almost lovingly.

Link can’t think much of anything right now. Only that his head hurts and he doesn’t think he’s home right now. He looks around the room and frowns a little bit. This isn’t the medical ward for the wounded soldiers. “Where am I?”

“We’re in a random town.” A boy with more scars on his face than Link has seen someone have. His hair is long and he has more scars on his arm that Link can see. “You were hit in the head so we brought you here to the local inn to recover.”

Link lets the information sink in. Strangers, then. Very kind strangers. He sighs and leans back on the bed. He was attempting to sit up but he must have been in worse shape than he thought if he could hardly lift his head off of the pillow. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, well next time try not to die, alright?” Another boy sasses him. He has pink hair somehow but Link gets the idea that he’s familiar with him. Stranger still- Link has never seen this boy before in his life. “We’ve got enough heroes between us all that there’s no need to make unnecessary sacrifices.”

“You scared me.” You say, gripping his hand tighter. You’re smiling softly even as you start to tear up again. You bring his hand up and kiss the back of it. “Don’t ever do that again. Promise me.”

You know him. You know him. You have to, or else you wouldn’t be doing that.

Link gets the impression that he’s important to you. But- He grimaces slightly, already imagining what this is going to sound like. “...Who are you?”

Everyone in the room goes still.

You seem to freeze entirely and grip his hand impossibly tighter. Frantic panic increases in your eyes as you search his face for something- anything. “You’re kidding, right? Link, this isn’t funny.”

“You know my name.” He whispers softly. The look that crosses over your face is absolutely heartbreaking.

Tears start streaming down your face before you can even speak. “It’s me! You love me! I love you!”

“I don’t know you.” He settles for. Link doesn’t think he can be gentle with another person like this. Cia was bad enough. Granted, she never said that she loved him. Let alone claimed that he loved her but there have been countless others that have tried to get him to see to reason with similar arguments. He really needs to talk to Zelda about this.

“Hey now.” An older man speaks. “Settle down.”

Link looks at him and changes that assumption. He’s older than him, sure, but enough to actually phrase it that way. He has similar markings on his face though. Link things that if he tries hard enough he can remember why they ring a bell in his head.

The man puts a hand on your shoulder and very gently pulls you away before you can collect yourself and potentially strike him. “It was a bad hit. Remember that.”

Yeah, ok- the older gentleman isn’t not talking to him.

“Warrior, what’s the last thing you remember?’ Another young man- wait, how many people are here again?- steps closer and puts the back of his hand on his forehead as if he was checking for a fever.

Admittedly, Link might be a little warm. His head still hurts. “Who’s Warrior?”

The room feels as if he had just lit a short fuse on a bomb.

You choke on a sob and Link turns his attention back to you. It’s a heart wrenching sound. As if someone had just stabbed you, or worse, killed someone in front of you. You are quickly escorted out of the room by three of the young men around him. The boy with the scars, another with a fur pelt, and the older gentleman are quick to take you out of the room.

The remaining people (five, he’s counted this time) all stare at him with varying levels of shock and despair.

“...Do you remember us?” A small voice comes from his left. There’s a boy. He’s young. He’s wearing a blue shirt with a lobster on it- hold on.

“You.” Link says and he feels a smile grow on his face. It’s weak and it doesn’t erase the pain he’s feeling, but the familiar face is nice. “I remember you, pirate. You’ve gotten bigger since the last time I saw you.”

“Not really.” He smiles bashfully, stepping closer to the side of the bed. “Do you remember anyone else?”

Link feels the weight behind that question. Looking around the remaining faces, he can’t say that he knows who they are. “Who are they, kiddo?”

The young boy gulps and bites his lip. “It’s a long story.”

One of them sighs and rubs his hand over his face. He’s a rather built young man with a long white cape over his back. Link thinks that maybe he can find someone to fix his scarf to look that cool. “This… is unideal.”

“You don’t say.” Someone snaps. It’s the smallest one there, but the voice doesn’t match the height. He’s probably older than Link originally thought. Link likes his tunic though. Very colorful.

A heart wrenching sob makes its way through the doorway as the older gentleman walks in again. It’s you.

Link knows he’s caused that. He hates to admit to himself but what else was he supposed to do?

The older gentleman (Link gets ice in his veins when he remembers what the markings are) steps into the room and sighs. He rubs his hand down his face as looks over to where Link is on the bed. “I’m sure… you have questions, Captain.”

A title. Yes. Link has a title. And Link definitely has questions. “Who was that?”

Vaguely, Link knows that shouldn’t have been the prominent question on his mind, but for some reason he can’t pinpoint, he hates that he made you cry.

No one answers his question at first so he tries a different tactic. Clearly, he’s missing some information. “Are they important?”

To the mission? To this group? To him? Link doesn’t register that as a too vague a question, only that he wishes for it to be answered.

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

Well shoot, Link sighs. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” The final young man to speak tilts his head, raising his hands as they glow. Fascinating. Link stares at it. He’s hardly met another Hylian that could use magic so casually. “You wouldn’t have had it any other way. Pushed them out of the way and took the hit and all that.”

“Oh.” Important to him, it is then. Faintly, he thinks he could still hear you cry. “I hurt them.”

“You did.” Pink haired boy grumbles. “But there’s not much we can do about it. It’s a miracle you even woke up again as it is.”

A miracle. Link takes a deep breath. He seems to be running on pure fumes powered by those alone. “I hurt them.”

Somehow, he feels the need to repeat himself. Link doesn’t like the inky feeling that curls around his heart at the thought of that. If he pushed you out of the way of an attack, surely that means he cared about you to not think something through.

It’s stranger still- that it came to that at all.

Link has always prided himself on thinking fast on his feet and having contingency plans for his contingency plans. He’s not one to miscalculate. Many battles have made sure of that. Close encounters on top of even closer encounters have made sure that his senses were sharp and steely as the blade he wielded.

To be hurt the way he was meant that he had miscalculated dearly. Or rather, the attack would have surely killed you and he wasn’t thinking at all when he acted. If he wasn’t thinking when he acted at the thought of you in danger or being attacked, then you meant more to him than anyone here was telling him.

Aside from you.

You did say that he loved you. And that you loved him.

His throat suddenly feels dry.

”Here.” A cup is placed by the side of his face in an instant. Link takes it and manages to take one gulp of water before he remembers to take sips.

“I wouldn’t have wanted them to be hurt.” He says after giving the glass back. He barely finished half of it before he started feeling nauseous. How long was he unconscious? How badly was he injured, truly? “I wouldn’t have wanted them to-”

Link starts to cough.

“We know.” The pirate gently pats his shoulder, rubbing small circles. Another thing he remembers. Link used to do the same to him when the pirate wasn’t feeling too well after a battle. Something about the food and movement not agreeing with him. It’s strange to be on the other side of the act. “They know it too. They won’t be angry at you for it.”

“No?” He looks at the boy, because he knows this boy. He can trust him. Link doesn’t know if he can trust the rest of the faces in this room.

The boy shakes his head. “You would never hurt them on purpose. You’re not that kind of person. They know that.”

Link strains his ear to hear you on the other side of the door. It’s gone quiet, but he’s almost positive that you’re still upset over this development. He wonders what he would have done to get this sort of reaction from everyone here. “Who are these people, kiddo?”

“We’re all Link.” He answers easily.

Link catches onto the way the others flinch slightly.

He still can’t say that he knows them.

“We have to get his memory back.” The young man with the white cape says after a moment of silence.

“It’s not that easy.” Magic Man shakes his head. “This wasn’t caused by a spell. At best, we should be asking The Champion how he deals with his memory loss. Amnesia caused by injury is a different challenge entirely.”

Link sighs and looks back to the door with his tongue between his teeth.

Amnesia? He almost wants to laugh. Do they not know who he is?

Link doesn’t forget easily.

#linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader #linked universe #lu x reader #lu warrior #lu warriors #angst?#angst.#but don't tell anyone I've said that

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weirdsht · 2 months

Note

"Would u like to hear me yap about regressor!reader x cale? (⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♡ or not? ^⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠^" "If it's a fic prompt why not? 👀"

OKKKKK 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 .

Ughhh imagine Cale and the gang with someone who regressed because of them and they had no clue about it. In the 1st timeline, everything was fine, they meet the fam, do crazy things, and form relationships until they realized a lot of their companions get hurt or shockingly die. They were a transmigrator like Cale as well, they read the TCF novel, so they were heavily confused a lot of times when out of expectations scenarios happened. Like why are things that never happened in the TCF novel keep happening?

One time they died, then unexpectedly regressed to the starting line, like they came back to the place and age they first gained vision of the TCF world. They try to make everyone safe all while forming unbreakable bonds with her companions at heart.

Sooo in the end they find out that everything happened because of their existence. They were an anomaly, something that shouldn't mess with the original plotline for the journey of Cale Henituse and his family, so that was why they were the target, but somehow, their enemies end up causing harm to the wrong people a lot of times because they try to fight before reader can even lift a finger. Though, none of them know that every time reader dies by their enemy's hands, they regress to their own starting point before they meet everyone. Timeskip they end up dying again lol

In the third timeline, angst and shi, they avoid everyone since they were the main characters and they weren't her enemy's enemy. Thankfully, they survive until the end of the war.

Imagine reader and their loved ones meet again :(( they don't remember about them but somehow the gang keeps stumbling upon reader and they keep seeing weird scenarios and thoughts about reader which confuses them to the max (AND WHY IS READER VISIBLY AVOIDING THEM??? Sus) because they've never met this person before, especially Cale

Insert guilty as sin's "I'm seeing visions, am i bad or mad or wise?" LOLOL

If it's too long or u can't understand the shit i just spilled, it's ok to js keep this as an unanswered ask

I just like to yap and overshare 😭💟

Apparently Not - LoTCF & Regressor! Reader

tags: gender-neutral reader, regressor reader, vague novel spoilers, hurt/comfort (not sure if it hurts though), very loosely inspired by how orv uses the disconnected film theory

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are currently closed but my ask are still open (read navi)

Buy Me Dessert

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The first time was confusing.

Scenarios that did not happen in the novel kept happening. For some reason despite Cale’s actions being mostly the same, the timeline has taken another course. Things did not go their way. It seems like the enemies are cunning too. They laid out plans that [name] had never read before. Their inadequacy caused the regressor to die at the hands of the magic spearman.

The second time was devastating.

[Name] thought that they got it this time. Thought that they had prepared enough even if things went south.

But why..?

Why is nothing going Cale’s way?

Why are they still losing?

Why is the sword of disaster piercing their heart?

Why are Raon’s teary eyes the last thing they could see before they die?

[Name] thought they were prepared. They thought that with the help of the original novel and their first regression, they could get through everything.

But that was not the case. Time and time again things that did not happen before kept happening. No matter what they did all the favours stack up to the White Star’s favour.

In the [Name] died whilst unable to do anything.

The third time felt like an enlightenment.

“Haa–!!”

Huff. Huff

[Name] woke up with a jolt. They could still feel the fiery sword piercing through their skin and bones. However, when they touch where they have been stabbed there’s nothing there. Their body was perfectly intact as if everything was merely a nightmare.

They must be back then. Back in the starting line. Back to the time when Cale and the others have not met the regressor yet.

‘If I don’t insert myself into the narrative maybe things will go according to the novel?’

Yeah, that must be it.

And so [name] did their best to blend in as a background character. Of course, they still helped behind the scenes. But they made sure to stay out of the spotlight. They have been better at doing that compared to Cale anyway.

They manage to both survive and not have any run-ins with what used to be their family for a long time. It hurt [name] to deliberately avoid the people they love the most, but it had to be done. They can’t be selfish for it will cause the world’s demise.

However, everything changed during the war against White Star.

“Have I met you somewhere before?”

Alberu asks them as they bump into each other after the battle on the Stan Territory. This sent [name] into a mild frenzy. Their original goal was to just weaken the enemies from the shadows, help free the prisoners and then disappear as they they never existed. But now they have come face-to-face with Alberu.

“I wasn’t aware that the rising sun of our kingdom was such a flirt.”

It took everything in the regressor to not cry. Just seeing the quarter-dark elf’s face was enough to make them emotional. Enough to make them remember all those late nights they have spent together talking. All the days they spent bonding over baking. All those talks they had about Cale being a headache.

Not able to take any more overwhelming emotion, [name] excused themself. Disappearing in the shadows once more. Leaving Alberu confused at the interaction.

That night Alberu had dreams of ranting all his dongsaeng problems to a certain regressor that he was sure he had never met before.

What [name] thought was a one-time thing became a frequent occurrence.

Choi Han, Raon, On, Hong, Ron, Beacrox, Rosalyn, Eruhaben…

[Name] kept running into them like a joke by fate.

As if the world wanted to rub it in their face that they could never be part of that family. That their presence will only bring them demise.

So every time they have a run-in with one of them they run away. They didn’t care if they looked like a frightened dog with its tail tucked between its legs. Didn’t care if the interaction always left the other party confused. Could not care if sometimes tears are pooling in their eyes when they have to turn their back once more.

That was until [Name] encountered Cale.

The one person they have been avoiding the most.

Others were fine. Sure it hurts having to run away from them but [name] can just cry it off for 2 nights and they’ll be able to function once more.

But not with Cale.

They can never run away from Cale.

Hence why silence lingered over them as they stared eye-to-eye. Both of them did not break eye contact even when a lone tear dripped on [name]’s cheek.

“I-I’m sorry I don’t know what’s gotten over me. I must’ve confused you for someone I know.”

[Name] tried to hastily wipe their tears as more flowed from their eyes. Their dam of emotions finally overflowed upon meeting Cale and there was nothing the regressor could do to stop it.

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I’ll get out of your way now.”

They couldn’t see the redhead’s expression due to their tears. However, they were sure he was looking at them weirdly. The mere thought of it hurts, but it’s not as if [name] could blame him since he didn’t know them

Thus why they are now trying to walk away from the situation.

Keyword being try.

How could they when Cale is holding onto their wrist? When he pulled them back in his direction to wipe their tears away?

“You must’ve suffered quite a bit.”

Cale mumbled in their hair as he let the regressor cry in his chest.

The action confused [name]. Cale was kind, but not this kind towards strangers.

“What do you–”

[Name] tried to ask but Cale shoved their face in his chest more to prevent them from speaking.

“[Name]... My records never lied to me. The moment I saw you, recordings of our past timeline resurfaced.”

Ah, so that’s why…

“Then you must also know why I went this route. Let me go…”

Please let me go before I lose my will to fight.

Please let me go before I fall for your warmth once more.

Please…

“No, your place is with us. Everything will work out this time. I promise.”

Cale stroked [name]’s hair. He has no plans of letting them be on their own again. They’re family, even if Cale has to flip the world upside-down just to make sure they will remain one.

“You’ve been away for long enough. Let’s go home now.”

#le asks #trash of the count's family #lout of the count’s family #tcf #lcf #cale henituse #lotcf #totcf #alberu crossman #tcf x reader #lcf x reader #gender neutral reader #x reader #manhwa x reader #lotcf x reader #totcf x reader

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milflewis · 5 months

Note

ok but mob au

“You really didn’t know who I work for?”

When Yuki found out that Pierre’s boss is the Sebastian Vettel, the Lion of Singapore, and the unofficial heir to Schumacher & Co., he had only raised his eyebrows. Pierre took that to mean he had already figured it out.

Yuki blinks at him. “No.”

“But.” Pierre frowns. “Why did you — I always have so many knives on me! Is this not weird to you?” He gestures at his jacket which hangs open, showing four different perfectly sharpened blades tucked into the lining.

Yuki shrugs. “You are French, yes? You like to cut things. Like cheese.”

Pierre mouths wordlessly. Cheese.

“Anyway,” Yuki adds. “You are weird, so. This would not be weird.”

The first time Sebastian meets Lewis, his runners are wet with Michael’s blood and Lewis’s hands are pressing his head into the glass door. His face aches, nose throbbing.

“Can I help you?” he says, or tries to say. It comes out vaguely smushed.

He pushes back a little just to see. Lewis lets him move half an inch before shoving him back.

“Jesus, Hamilton,” Sebastian hears Michael say. His voice cracks roughly. Sebastian nearly cried when the doctor told him Michael survived the surgery, that they got all the bullets out and he was in recovery. He swallows thickly, as the relief makes him all dizzy even now. “I know you got out today but c’mon, let him go. This is Sebastian — I talked about him.”

The hands on Sebastian’s neck disappear and he’s rubbing at his jaw when he turns around. “Ow,” Seabastian tells Michael. His cheeks are pale and his chest is wrapped in white bandages but his eyes are alert and he is grinning.

“Sebastian, this is Lewis Hamilton. Lewis, Sebastian Vettel. Mika says we are all friends here.”

He pats Mika’s ankle that is propped up on the bed beside his hip. Mika’s eyes stay closed, arms folded in his chair, chin on his chest. There are dark bruises under his eyes under now.

“Right. If Mika says so.”

Lewis steps back towards Michael’s bed, grabbing the duffle bag from where it was leaning against the wall. Sebastian looks at his bare arms, the tattoos that go all the way down to his fingers, the rings there. His jeans sit low on his hips. He needs a shave. Sebastian recognises him from his mugshot, even of his hair is longer now and his face is more lined.

They hadn’t had the time to arrange for Michael to share a cell with someone affiliated with them, and when they had got in contact with him, a week later, he had settled in well enough with his cell mate. By Michael standards at least.

Does not talk much, Michael had told Sebastian over the phone. Likes his fucking singing though. Stares at the picture of his dog. Do you think he is lonely?

When Sebastian had brought it up with Mika, the best person for this kind of thing when Corinna is away, Mika had only shrugged, and told him that he doesn’t think it is just Hamilton that is lonely, and that of fucking course anyone who could survive nine weeks in solitary with just Fernando Alonso as company in the next cell over is someone that Michael would find interesting.

Sebastian looks away from the breadth of Lewis’s shoulders in his white tank and pulls a face at Michael’s waggling eyebrows.

“How old do you think I am?” Jenson asks, as Alex adjusts his long-rifle until it sits comfortably against his shoulder, supported by the flat roof they are lying on.

Alex doesn’t answer, because he knows exactly how old Jenson is, and the fact that people continue to tell Jenson to his face that he looks ten years older than his actual age will never stop being funny.

“Ollie, how old do you think I am?” Jenson calls.

“Jen, leave the kid alone,” Alex says. “You could dye your hair.”

“Do I look like a man who would dye his hair solely to stave off questions about his age?”

“Yes,” Alex sweeps the street below them, marking the buildings bracketing the shop they are surveilling. “Ollie, how are you doing over there?”

He can hear him scramble around for a second before a burst of static. “Radio ready for orders, sir.”

Alex grimaces, still not used to that, as Jenson only laughs beside him.

“Michael? We got him.” Eddie leans back against the closed door.

Michael hums, closing his leather notebook. He leaves his fountain pen tucked into the middle so he remembers what month of intakes he was going over.

“Send him in.”

The kid’s hair is long and dirty, falling into his eyes and around his ears. His knees are all busted up under his baggy shorts. His face is drawn and thin, and he is glaring at Michael, jaw clenched.

He goes all pale when he sees who sits in front of him. Seems like he didn’t know whose car it was.

“Jesus,” Michael says. “You’re tiny, how did you reach the pedals?”

This morning, the kid — Sebastian Vettel, Michael had asked around — had hot wired Michael’s car in under two minutes and driven away. Michael had watched from the restaurant’s window, amused and impressed.

Mika had been decidedly less so when Michael told him, ten minutes later, that they were going to have to order a cab.

“I’m not that short!” The glare intensifies. His eyes are kind of freaky, Michael thinks. Very big and bright.

Michael holds out a hand, level with his chest, and squints. He lowers it considerably. Sebastian looks like he wants to bite it.

“Of course not,” Michael tells him soothingly. Eddie gives him a reproachful look. Michael holds back his eyeroll but takes his hand out of reach of Sebastian’s mouth.

“I have a job for you,” Michael says, watching Sebastian’s eyes sharpen. He smiles thinly. “If you’re up for it.”

“A job. For me? What kind of job?” Sebastian tilts his head to the side, making his eyes wide. His curls tumble across his forehead. The whole effect is rather sweet, Michael considers, delighted. This will be interesting.

Mika has been nagging at Michael to stop picking up strays but he thinks he will agree with Michael on this one.

Michael stretches out his back, legs interlocked at the ankles, until something clicks along his spine. He exhales slowly, sinking back into the shitty mattress.

They called for lights out fifteen minutes ago. Lewis is still in the bunk above him. Michael looks at the scratches across the metal rods. He had a good workout today, no interruptions, and his arms are nicely sore.

Seventeen minutes.

Lewis moves in his bed, rolling over to the right and for a moment, Michael thinks he will roll right off the edge, but then he is swinging down, silent. Michael holds himself very still.

"I am not interested in fucking."

"Yeah," Lewis says. "I heard."

Michael swallows. The sharpened edge of Lewis's plastic spoon presses into his throat. Lewis is dense and solidly heavy, knees on either side of his hips, one foot digging into his knee.

Michael has seen him fight. In an enclosed space like this, and unarmed, he isn't sure who would come out the better. His fingers itch with excitement.

"I found the picture you left," Lewis says quietly. The spoon doesn't move an inch. His eyes gleam in the dark like an animal.

"Okay," Michael says, not bothering to pretend not to know what he is talking about.

Lewis was fine this morning. He hummed to himself the entire way to breakfast, and he spotted Michael in the gym without even being asked. It wasn't until after dinner that he went all weird and still in himself.

Lewis presses down, just a little. Michael raises an eyebrow.

"Is he alive?" Lewis asks like he doesn't want to show his hand but is doing so anyway. His mouth trembles at the corners. Michael frowns at him. He has seen Lewis hustle in the yard at card games enough times to know that his poker face is better than this.

"Is he."

Oh. Jesus.

Michael laughs. It is too loud of a sound for where they are. He laughs anyway.

"You have issues," he tells Lewis, who only sends him a cutting look.

"That was supposed to make you feel better! Stop crying and all. You miss him, yes? Thought I could help."

Lewis stares at him. Blinks those animal eyes.

Michael makes a frustrated sound in the back of his mouth. He misses Mika. He never has to talk when Mika is around.

"He is being taken care of in that shelter you put him in. I had my people check. I was being nice! Friendly too!"

"We're friends," Lewis says slowly as if he expects Michael to say no.

"Obviously. You are being ridiculous," Michael says. "You think I would kill a dog? No!" He is a little hurt.

"You are the chief suspect in fifteen open murders," Lewis says, flat.

"Not of dogs!"

Lewis looks at him for a long moment before rolling his eyes. "How are you still alive, man? For real? I thought it was a threat."

He pushes off Michael and pulls himself up onto the top bunk, as silent as he climbed down at the start.

"No one else would see this as a bad thing."

He can hear Lewis roll his eyes.

"Literally every other person here would think you were sending a message. And not a good one."

"I was being nice!"

There is a clang of metal against metal, and their cell bars rattle. "Oi! You two! Shut the fuck up. Save the fighting or fucking for the morning."

"Gross, man," Lewis says, and Michael kicks at the underside of his bunk. "You are gross."

Maybe Mika was right when he said that Lewis might not take his generosity in the way he wanted it, Michael considers. He decides not to tell him. He would be too smug if he did.

He palms the sharpened spoon that Lewis had held to his neck and left on his pillow, beside his cheek. It is small and narrow. Michael presses his thumb against the slice, feeling it. He smiles, and tucks it under his sheet. He had needed a new one.

+1.

Sebastian had been small when Michael met him. All eyes and bony knees and dirty hair.

Then he opened up his mouth and his personality crawled out.

Michael has never looked back.

#listen. i entertain myself #sewis #yukierre #makkinen #five head cannon ask game #kyle tag #niamh.asks #little fics

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chelseeebe · 1 year

Text

deadly.

summary: tagging along to a gig could never be a bad idea, could it?

smut 18+, steve is a cocky bastard and this basically a rehashed y/n goes to a concert and the lead singer falls in love w/ her from the wattpad days it is incredibly self indulgent lol

an: erm so i apologise for not posting in what feels like forever but a series of things happen (i lost and then subsequently survived the great war and got taylor tickets), my dad is in hospital (he's okay!) and i have written a 10k+ the bear au with eddie (lemme know if u want that) that has occupied my mind so i have excuses ok

‎♡‧₊˚

It’s slightly difficult to believe that you weren’t utterly enamoured with Steve Harrington the first time you laid eyes on him. You felt like the odd one out, surrounded by a gaggle of screaming, adoring fans.

You liked the music enough, so when Jen had suggested getting the tickets, you were completely up for it.

You had just never expected for the night to end like this.

Jen had been hand plucked from the crowd for some after party, the security guy had eyed you up and down, shrugged and just muffled a quiet whatever when she asked if you could go along.

There was a small group of other girls being ushered into the intimate room of the club, all looking incredibly similar. Buzzing with excitement, barely able to contain themselves when they saw the band lounging on the velour chairs. It just all felt incredibly forced and you knew exactly what the end goal was.

The room is murky, full of girls chattering, trying their hardest to grab the attention of at least one of the guys.

And yeah, maybe it was a little cool but you were tired and knew you’d end up having to find your own way home as Jen was gone. She’d wriggled her way onto the couch next to who you think is the drummer, batting her eyelashes and flashing him that signature pout that meant he was putty in her hands. He’s her usual type, long floppy hair.. the brooding kind.

“You not having fun?” a voice mutters into your ear, barely audible over the thumping music. It’s Steve, or the frontman, still in his stage get up with a cup of something in his hand.

“Oh, no I am.. I’m just tired,” playing it off with a small smile. You were not about to cockblock Jen and get the pair of you escorted out with your resting bitch face.

He nods, eyeing the undrunk glass of champagne in your hand, it was warm now, undrinkable, “you don’t drink?”

“Ah..” you do drink, just not open drinks that had been shoved into your hand by some barman the second you walked in here, “I just don’t… and don’t take offence, I don’t take open drinks from strangers,” baring your teeth in an awkward smile.

Steve laughs out loud, envying girls snap their heads in your direction, he takes the flute from your hand, “yeah that’s smart, you want another one? We can both watch him pour it,” motioning towards the bar.

You had desperately wanted another drink, just too shy and self-conscious to make a scene out of pouring this one away to do anything about it. Nodding graciously as you both stand from the cramped couch, walking up to the bar with daggers in your back.

“What’re ya’ having?” his eyes heavy on yours, leaning across the bar to get the man’s attention.

“What are you drinking?”

“Whiskey,” shaking the cup in your direction.

“Ooh maybe not,” scrunching your nose in disgust, peering over the bar at the collection of liquors they had. Basically, a bunch of expensive shit you didn’t recognise. “Can I just get a vodka lemonade?” shying away at your incredibly basic pick.

“Classic,” Steve nods, eyes on you but yours are glued to the bartender, watching eagle eyed as he fills the cup.

“You’re supposed to be watching too,” raising your brows with a smug smile, you could feel his eyes burning into the side of your face.

He scoffs, grinning to himself, “I think you’ve got that covered,” not once lowering his gaze. He’s confident, cocky even. Worlds apart from the usual guys you’d encounter, pathetic yet arrogant in the way they spoke to you.

You take the drink with a smile, the bartender walks away to the other end of the bar with so much as a grunt in response.

“I haven’t- I need to pay,” finally meeting Steve’s eyes again, baffled by the entire interaction.

His eyes glint with amusement, shaking his head, “not here.. it’s all paid for,” it’s endearing to him, perhaps he’d got used to girls just already expecting it.

“Wow..” your mouth contorting into a perfect ‘O’, “well, thank you for the drink,” sipping out of the straw with a smirk. If you’d known, you would’ve taken full advantage way earlier.

“Well that’s my pleasure, d’you smoke?” rustling in his pockets for the pack of cigs, leaning over to your height.

You eye the box, “only socially, but if they’re someone else’s cigs then yes, definitely.”

He bursts into a cackle, “well let’s go then,” placing his hand on your elbow, leading you through the room and out of the side door, passing the prying eyes of the other girls. You weren’t dumb to what was going on, any of those girls would jump at the chance to get led out of a club by Steve Harrington.

It’s chilly outside, your body shivering at the sudden drop in temperature. He hands you a cigarette, lighting his own and flashing a quick thumbs up to the large security guard who had taken it upon himself to stand blockading the door.

“Is this something that happens every night?” you ask cautiously, honestly not wanting to offend but rather curious about the answer.

He nods, blowing a cloud of smoke out of the side of his mouth, “most nights on tour, yeah,” his lighter in his palm ready for you to take.

“Hmm.. right,” lighting your own cigarette, running your thumb over the engraved metal. Peeking down at the cursive lettering, O.H. Passing it back to him without any questioning.

“You gettin’ jealous already?” one eyebrow quirked up, you’re thankful that he doesn’t take offence.

“Yeah totally,” playfully rolling your eyes. Hundreds, if not thousands of girls had been in your exact position before and yet you still found yourself getting giddy over his flirty words and infectious smile. Sickening. “Is it always like this? You don’t get tired?”

He cocks his head to the side, “sometimes yeah, but those boys in there are dogs yanno? Bad influences,” smirking as his lips part to exhale. Effortlessly sexy with his eyes hung low, heavy as they refuse to leave yours.

“Oh and you’re not?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny..” holding his hands up in innocence, closing the gap between you.

Pressing your lips together, focusing on the cigarette in your hand rather than his obvious advances. If you were going to be another notch in his bedpost, you were going to make sure he worked for it.

“It’s crazy because I just don’t believe you,” matching his smirk, taking another sip of your drink. It was becoming increasingly harder to resist his caramel tinted eyes and the gorgeous eyelashes that hung over them.

“Well,” he remarks, stumped by your stubbornness, “I guess I’ll have to prove it to you,” throwing the butt off into the distance somewhere. His hand reaching out to find your elbow once more, “shall we go in?”

You nod, dropping your own half-smoked cigarette, walking back into the crowded club with his hand resting on the small of your back. Falling into the first empty seat you could find, his large thighs squishing into the tiny section next to you, brushing against your scantily clad legs.

My God, if looks could kill, you would’ve been six feet under by now.

You chatter away all night, his lips brushing against your ear, feeling his breath over your cheek sent shivers down your spine.

Jen had already disappeared, flashing you a very reassuring nod before being bundled out of the club with her emo dream boy trailing closely behind.

It’s late now yet there were still hoards of girls milling around, hoping for one last chance with whoever was left. You’re pretty sure they had got the memo that Steve was simply not interested, watching as he hung off of your every word, passing you drink after drink while sipping on his own with intent eyes.

You hadn’t expected him to really care about your life but he had asked all the right questions, talking about your job and going back to school. Shit that you were sure he would forget the second you left.

The security guard from earlier comes over and whispers something into Steve’s other ear. He just nods before placing his hand on your shoulder, leaning into your ear, “I’m gonna go back to my room now,” sitting forward in the extremely cramped chair.

Your heart sinks a little, as shameful as it is, you’re a little disappointed. Attempting to quickly figure out how you would now get home without Jen.

“You wanna come with?”

Head pricking up at the question, staring at him for a brief moment before nodding. His pink lips curling into that smirk you’d become accustomed to. Smug and enchanting all at the same time.

You’re bundled into a car, security guards speaking in low voices to the driver, you can vaguely hear the word paparazzi be mumbled and then a bunch of directions. It’s all a bit too much, Steve is serious as sin sat next to you in the back, listening intently to whatever the security guard was mumbling into his ear.

You sit in amazement, contemplating if this maybe wasn’t the best idea until the door slams shut and the car sets off. Steve turns to you, rolling his eyes as his hand creeps onto your knee.

“Sorry.. apparently there’s paps outside the hotel so we’re goin’ the long way until they get rid of them,” sliding his hand north, squeezing onto your thigh. “We’re stuck in here for a little while longer, I hope you don’t mind?” the streetlights illuminating his face, remnants of his black eyeliner cling to his eyes.

“Jeez..” blowing the air from your cheeks, “must be exhausting.”

“I don’t mind it, I just don’t think my manager would appreciate waking up to the pictures.. ya know?”

“Not really.. but I get it, you don’t wanna look like a whore in the media,” returning the smirk he had been giving you all night, shifting in your seat to see him better.

“A whore? I prefer slut if I’m honest,” shifting closer, eyes lingering on your lips for entirely too long.

“You could be both,” tongue peeking out to wet your suddenly parched lips, “it wouldn’t be a lie, would it?”

His chuckle rumbles through his chest, “shut up,” free hand trailing upwards from his own lap to cradle your cheek, pressing his plump lips to yours with haste, eyes fluttering shut at the contact.

Your fingers curl into the soft material of his shirt, pulling his chest to yours, leaning back against the hard plastic of the door. You sorta hoped the paparazzi would linger a little bit longer just so you could stay exactly like this.

It’s a grand hotel room, they definitely had not skimped on the budget here. Nothing at all like the budget rooms your family had forced you into on vacation. It takes a moment for you to completely take in the entire room, a standard of elegance that you’d never seen before.

“You’re like.. rich rich then,” gawping at the tall ceilings like a child in a candy store.

Steve chuckles, placing a gentle hand on the small of your back, pulling your attention from the grand decor and back to him, “I’ve seen better.. d’you want something to drink?” motioning towards the stocked minibar.

“Please,” you remark, eyeing the sheer amount of variety in the tiny bar.

He pauses, coming around to stand in front of you, eyes narrowed, “kiss me and you can have anything you want,” lingering fingers on your hips.

The corner of your mouth twitches, “anything?” widening your eyes at the prospects of his proposition.

“Anything.”

You must’ve dropped off to sleep at some point as you wake back up to the feel of Steve’s hand on your ass, thumb playing with the lace band of your thong. He’s leaning against the headboard in quiet reflection. The bedside lamp is still on and you’re not sure if he ever slept.

“Do you ever sleep?” you ask groggily, shifting to face him with heavy eyes. His hand clamps around your thigh, startled by your voice.

“You scared the shit out of me,” turning his head to face you, the cold metal of his ringed thumb presses into your soft thigh, “can’t sleep.. happens sometimes after a show,” shrugging slightly.

Sometimes is an understatement. He hadn’t had a full night's sleep in God knows how long. Becoming accustomed to the shoddy hours he did manage to catch.

“Oh,” suddenly feeling guilty that you were here and potentially disrupting him, “I can go.. let you get some sleep,” looking up at him through your lashes.

“No no no no, stay.. stay,” pulling your leg over his waist, hand running up and down the supple skin, “it’s nice having someone here.”

You pull your body closer to his, shifting your weight to sit in his lap, knees positioned either side of his hips. This wakes him up entirely, moving up the bed to sit up, large hands gripping onto your waist.

“Oh? This is what we’re doing now?” he teases, clapping a mild slap to your ass cheek causing your cunt to brush against his already-growing bulge.

“Apparently so,” you snigger, glancing at the thin cotton of his boxers, they weren’t leaving much to the imagination, perfectly outlining the shape of his cock.

“Well great because I love this,” smirking as you clasp onto either side of his face. Carefully placing your lips on his, your tongue slipping past his liquor stained lips.

Mindlessly beginning to grind yourself down against him. He’s uttering a bunch of nonsense into your mouth, bucking his hips up to chase the feeling of your cunt against him.

“Fuck,” he grunts, hurriedly trying to slip his boxers down without making you move. Steve’s animalistic in the way he yanks your flimsy panties to the side, fisting his dick in the other. The sight alone makes a pathetic noise form in your throat, practically drooling over him.

“C’mere baby,” he instructs, thumb expertly holding the lace aside as you sit up on your knees, guiding himself through your folds and into your cunt, exhaling sharply as you slide down.

It takes a moment to adjust, he was cocky but fuck, did he have a reason to be. The tip of his cock already nudging uncomfortably close to your soft spot.

“You take me so well,” he proclaims, watching his cock disappear inside of you.

His words make you choke, joining him in looking at the space between your bodies. Feeling just about ready enough to move.

There’s a short knock at the door just as you begin to bounce, pausing with his dick still buried deep inside. Clutching onto his shoulders, sharing a disdainful look for whoever was looming on the other side.

“Nghh, what?” he calls out over your shoulder, sending daggers through the wood.

“Bro, you gotta condom in there?” the voice calls out, low, desperate.

You shift slightly, repositioning your knee and the sight movement is enough to have his fingernails dug into your hip, “holy fuu- no I don’t,” pupils dark as they flit from the door to yours.

That’s your cue to keep going, moving your hips up before slowly sliding back down, his cock filling you to the hilt. Biting down onto your bottom lip to keep from moaning though you’re certain whoever is on the outside isn’t clueless. The tour t-shirt you had slipped on is gripped between his fingers, pulled up your torso, exposing the supple skin.

“Aw fuck man, you’re no help,” the voice complains, banging the door one solitary time before skulking off, presumably to go and bother someone else for a condom.

Your lips twitch into a smile, throwing your head back as your hips gain pace, soft whimpers floating from your slack mouth. His hands are rough and commandeering as they hold onto your waist, setting the rhythm even when he wasn’t on top.

Steve growls, legs propped up as he begins to thrust upwards, trailing his callous palms down to your hips for better leverage. It’s then that you allow him full control, falling into his chest with your fingers knotting into his hair. Tugging at the caramel tinted tufts as this new position catches your neglected clit against his pubic bone, drawing a long cry out of your throat.

“You feel so- mmfuck, so good,” he squeezes out, quickening his pace, filling the room with the sinful sounds of skin on skin. His adam's apple bobbing up and down as his orgasm nears, sharp fingernails leaving red semi-circles in your skin, trying so desperately not to cum then and there.

He dares to look down at the space between you, the image of you wearing his shirt with his cock buried deep in your cunt makes him twitch, taking his bottom lip between his teeth in an attempt not to collapse.

“Right there,” you mewl into his ear, fast approaching your own orgasm, thighs becoming spent as he mercilessly slams into you from below.

It takes everything not to bite down on his tanned shoulder as your orgasm crescendos, desperate cries filling the room as you shudder around him. Sweaty palms now palming at his shoulders for some reinforcement as your legs give way.

Steve follows shortly after, sloppy final thrusts as your name echoes the tall walls, surrounded by a chorus of fucks and shits. His chest heaving, pulling you closer into his chest as he melts into the pillow. Graciously still supporting your weight with his large hands while your head still reels.

“You good?” he sighs breathlessly, drawing your face from his neck with a gentle tug of your hair, pulling your attention back to him.

You nod, smiling lazily as you sit upright once more, readjusting the lace thong that had been slung to the side. Pulling his boxers up his thighs without once breaking eye contact.

“Why don’t you just come on the rest of the tour with me?”

A giggle ripples instinctively, he probably said the exact same to every other girl that had been in this position alongside that same heavy, longing gaze he was flashing you. Christ, it probably worked on a few of them too. Give it a few more minutes and you would be convinced right along with them.

“I’m serious,” he blinks, tracing circles onto your hip, still completely enamoured with the way his shirt fell on your body.

“I bet you say that to every pretty girl you fuck,” still refusing to take him seriously, shaking your head at the ridiculous notion. You weren’t sure exactly how long he had been famous, but you were sure he wasn’t that out of touch with reality yet, right?

“Only you,” hands travelling to your bare thighs, “come with me,” thumb tapping a short rhythm onto your skin.

“You don’t even know me.”

“Well I want to, a tour bus is a great place to get to know someone,” he remarks, grinning.

Dawn now creeps in between the hastily shut curtains but you don’t dare to break eye contact. Dropping your hands from his shoulders as you ponder.

“I have a job and a house and bills and I don’t think they’d let me take that much vacation,” attempting to shut him down despite the fact his tactics were clearly working on you.

Endless possibilities run through your mind.. you could quit and beg for your position when you get back.. you’re sure Jen would look after your house, in fact she’d be very enthusiastic about you going and would probably volunteer.

“Fuck it..” he breathes, pressing his forehead against yours, “how much is your rent?”

“Steve..”

“How much?”

“Four eighty.”

“Easy, consider it paid,” he relents, staring up into your eyes through his thick black lashes. The flecks of gold that ran through his iris’ were persuasive enough to get you to just quit your job and run off on tour with him.

You sigh, chewing on the inside of your cheek. It would be totally and utterly stupid and irresponsible of you to do this but how could you ignore the niggling feeling in your brain that would never ever disappear if you didn’t.

“You’re being serious?”

“Deadly.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve stranger things #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things x you #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington au #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x fem!reader

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decolonize-the-everything · 3 months

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Ok, you seem to basically be saying project 2025 is inevitable so don’t vote because Joe Biden is evil. So then, how do we survive when contraception is made basically illegal, lgbt people are outlawed and possibly murdered, etc? Or are we supposed to just lie down and die?

These are two extremely specific scenarios that heavily play into self victimhood and narratives of powerlessness and frankly, I don't have the energy to pretend it's something else when there are a handful of rebels with literal fucking sticks fighting against a genocide being carried out by the world's richest powers.

You are neither a rebel nor are you fighting the world's richest powers with makeshift weapons or your bare hands. You are stressing about which box to check off in November, so my genuine advice is take your head out of your privileged asshole and consider that you have way more options than "vote" or "die" and lying to yourself about those being your only options is only gonna help you sleep for so long.

There are people like you and me literally fucking fighting for their right to live and exist, for their homes, for crumbs of food, dying for water, etc.

And you with your little American ballot in your hand have the audacity to say "should I just lay down and die" cuz I don't think you should check the Genocide Joe box???????????? And then you ask ME what IM going to do about it if cops possibly murder you when Trump is elected?

And you ask like that isn't ALREADY a daily reality for anyone living under Biden in the USA!!!!! We had protests for a whole fucking summer about police brutality cuz cops won't stop killing Black people! And they haven't stopped, you know.

So what was your answer when they asked us for our intersectional solidarity to save their lives? How much effort did you put in? Did you learn about mutual aid or direct action or how to protest? How to organize or draft demands so you can effectively make change year-round?

Cuz I remember how often those posts were going around. I know you saw some of them at least.

Did you make the effort to save someone besides yourself? Or did you think it was all unnecessary because you were fortunate to be wrapped in privilege?

You know, I didn't see one viral post from any white queer ppl saying "WE NEED TO (x) YOUR LIFE DEPENDS ON IT!" about defunding police departments or masking 🤧

What did you expect Black people to do when you didn't care enough to listen? When BLM stopped trending? What about Palestinians? Did you expect them to lay over and die? Did you think about what would happen if you abandoned them? Did you care?

But it matters now that you're on the other end, don't it?

ANY singular marginalized, oppressed group on earth can tell you letting them kill you has never been an option.

Stonewall didn't happen in a voting booth. Neither did the civil rights movement. Nor did our treaties. Even suffragettes committed arson and bombing campaigns.

We have never just laid down and let them kill our community or treat us like we are lesser. We have always taken what was ours because the nature of oppression is that you will never be given what you deserve, even if you vote for it.

"do we just lay down and die"

Liberation doesn't have a manual so I can't give you the step by step. But I assure that we will not find it through a bureaucracy and government built to silence, erase, and oppress us. And it sure as hell won't be found in a boomer that sleeps peacefully at night after killing children and denying genocide.

And the only fucking people that use others as stepping stones for their own comfort and well being are oppressors and fascists.

So additionally if you're sitting there upset because my morals don't bend for the privileged and you're thinking about how awful I am cuz I can't be convinced to justify killing people from Sudan and the DRC and Palestine instead of queer Americans then get fucked. Cuz you would be the EXACT type of person I loathe.

We are all in this together or you are with the oppressors. No more in between. We don't have the luxury of having the time to pretend there's any good reason to be a fascist apologist.

At this point, you're either fighting for progress and human rights or against it.

"are we supposed to just lay over and die"

If I die it'll be a warriors death and I think every single person on earth who has asked me "so what are we supposed to do?!" should work on having the same answer.

#asked #answered #vote #project2025 #whats the point #Biden #2024 elections #civil rights #human rights #biden #genocide joe #solidarity #intersectionality #joe biden #liberals #current events #direct action #capitalism #all for one and one for all

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sosa2imagines · 10 months

Text

Dean Winchester is a softie.

Warnings- only fluff , Dean Winchester he is a warning! Grumpy, Flirty and Softy

The air in the motel room you shared with Dean was filled with a thick and fuming tension.

You had just gotten back from a somewhat successful case. ‘Somewhat’ because the monster you were hunting was dead, but it left you in bad shape, after a reckless decision on your part to make yourself bait in order to save the victim. Your plan worked, in the end. And you survived, but that doesn’t make Dean any less angry.

“I can’t believe you.” He finally spoke up, a bitterness laced in his voice. "At least the women was safe!" you tried to reason with him.

“At least I don’t have to mourn over your ass too.” Dean retorted, crossing his arms and leaning his back on the wall. "Wow let's celebrate then!" you joked which annoyed him more. “Celebrate what? Your dumb ass decision to use yourself as bait?”

What other option did we have? You tried to reason again but Dean scoffed. “What other option? What about all the times I told you don’t go off on your own’? Or Stay in touch? Or ‘Don’t make rash decisions’?” he yelled.

"Rash decisions my ass! Our job is to protect and that's what I did." you yelled back getting slightly annoyed by him. “At what cost, then?” Dean shot back, crossing his arms. “You could have died, you know that right? Or did you decide to ignore that too?” "I know, ok!" you hissed in pain "I didn't do it on purpose, but I just couldn't stand there, and let some innocent person die."

Dean went quiet, letting out a long exhale before speaking again. “We could argue about this all day…But it’s done.” He said, his voice softening. “Don’t risk your life like that again, ok? Promise me that much.” he pleaded. You took a deep breath, "I promise you, I will be careful next time."

"You better. I couldn’t afford to lose you now, not after everything else that’s happened to me.” Dean paused for a second before adding, “Plus you still owe me $20.” You soften your gaze at him "You won't lose me Dean, never, before realizing what he said making you glare at him " What $20?"

He smirked and rolled his eyes. “The bet we made when we started this case, remember?” Dean asked with a knowing smirk on his face. “So pay up.” Ah the bet you both had shook hands to. If either of you are reckless or dies, you owe money to the survivor. "No, I'm alive so I win" you shrugged casually.

“Oh yeah? Then what about the fact you almost got yourself killed?” He raised an eyebrow, smirking.. You tried to stifle laughing. "that didn't happen so technically I won"

"You think just because you were lucky enough to be alive you win? Think again." He said, walking towards you. "Now pay the hell up." "No I won't" you pouted.

“Oh you’re gonna pay.” He said, his smirk disappearing. He extended his hand forward. “Money.” You thought it would be funny so you placed your hand in his palm. Dean didn't find it funny though. “Money.” He said again, tightening his grip on your hand. You tried to pull away, "Hey watch it, I said no!"

“I’m not letting go of you until you give me the money.” He replied, gripping your hand tighter. "I can take it" you smirked at him. “Oh really?” Dean smirked back at you, tightening his grip even more. “You can’t beat the Winchester grip.” He said, keeping his eyes locked on yours. You smirked playfully at him "Oh yeah? You are on! The money is safe in my back pocket and I won't give it to you!"

He moved closer, his expression turning sour and his brows furrows. “Give it.” He demanded, his grip even tighter. You pat your back pocket with your free hand, "Nope" "Give me the money or I swear to god.." He growled, looking angry. "The money, or I'll grab it from your pocket myself and take it." He said, still keeping his grip on your hand. "What? you'll just rip it apart?" you smirked playfully, "No I won't give it to you, now let go of my hand Winchester!" "I am not letting go until I get the money, do I make myself clear?" He said, squeezing your hand harder, but not painful enough to hurt.

You squeezed his hand hard challenging him "Try your best" Dean narrowed his eyes "Last chance…" He grunted, his expression turning stern.

"Oh I'm scared, nope!" Dean then reached out and tried to grab your pocket, his other hand still gripping your other hand tightly. "What are you doing?" “Taking. The. Money.” Dean responded, trying to reach for your back pocket, his grip on your hand still tight. You started to move backwards, Dean went after you holding your hand, still trying to grab your pocket. “Where do you think you’re going?” He asked, following you. "Anywhere possible with you refusing to let go of my hand"

“Give! Me! The! Money!” He roared, his grip tightening on your hand. “No more chances. You pay up, or it’s trouble.” He hissed, keeping a firm stare on your eyes. You glared at him hoping he will stop, but no! “I said, give me the goddamn money.” Dean demanded, clenching the fist of his hand that was holding yours. “Now.” "No!" you shout.

Dean kept glaring at you as his other hand finally reached your back pocket. He tried to grasp the money, but you kept it firmly locked. “Last chance before I rip your pocket open.” He warned. "Then you'll have to buy me new pair of jeans" you smirked. “Don’t test me.” Dean said. “I’ll do just that.” “You think I’m kidding?” He asked. “You’re either giving me the money, or I’m ripping your pocket.” He said, narrowing his eyes. “Take your pick.” At this point it wasn't about the money, you were actually having fun playing with him. "Are you going to buy me new pair of jeans?" He stayed silent for a moment, his brows furrowed. “No.” He said. “But you are giving me that money or your jeans are not what you have to worry about.” "Of course I have to worry about that, I can't roam around pant-less"

Dean glared, then grabbed your pocket and tried to grab the money from the inside of it. He finally got a hold of it and took out a few notes. “$20…” He said, looking at you as he crumpled the notes and threw it on the bed. “Happy?” He asked, his tone turning sour.

Ok he didn't need to do that. You grabbed the money and put it back in your pocket "That was cute" you rolled your eyes. Dean clenched his jaw when you grabbed the $20 and put it back in your pocket. “Cute?” He asked, glaring. “Cute? Do you have any idea how much I worried about you?” So this was not about the money, it is about you, you smiled softly looking at him "Look I'm sorry for making you worry, but I had to do, what I had to do, to save the innocent people."

Dean stayed silent for a moment. “I know…but you gotta think about yourself too.” He said, keeping his tone soft and caring. He walked towards you and placed his hands on your shoulders. “I know you’re a hunter, you know that you never back down before a fight…But you gotta use your head too.” He looked into your eyes. “I’m worried about you, ok? I can’t lose you.”

You hugged him and slipped the money into his pocket, "I know , I'm so sorry Dean and I promise you, you won't lose me I promise you." He hugged you back, returning the affection you gave him. He then looked at you and smiled. “Good. Now come here and give me a kiss.” He said, smirking as he spoke. “For making me worry.” he demanded just like that, as if he was asking for an apple. You looked at him with wide eyes, heat rushing in you body, "What?"

“Come here, or else.” He growled, gripping your shoulders tight as he pulled you closer to him. “Now give me that kiss.” He said with a smirk on his face. “Or there will be consequences.” You gulped nervously, thinking oh god, but the way he was looking at you with desire and lust and care made your knees go weak, and his tone nothing but serious made you give away, so you closed your eyes and kissed him. He closed his eyes and kissed you back. After pulling away, he smiled and ran his hands through your hair. “That’s better.” He said, his tone turning sweet again as his expression lightened up. “Now you need to rest, while I go clean up.” He chuckled as he glanced at your slightly-battered condition.

"I wonder what the consequences would have been" you mumbled to yourself in low voice with curiosity eating you, but oh boy he heard it, “No, you really don’t.” He said, looking at you with a stern expression, but then let out a sigh when he saw your pleading eyes. “Ok, fine…Do you want to be punished?” He asked, smirking.

That ran a shiver down your spine, "Oh look at the time, I should rest" you blushed, heat pooling in your stomach. He smirked. That was definitely not gonna work. Who were you trying to fool? “I think you should rest on my lap.” His voice was sweet as he held his arms out. “Come here now.” You looked at him curiously, contemplating your options but, he opened his arms out and you went towards him. You lay down on his lap, your head resting against his chest as he hugged you, his arms wrapping around you. “Better?” He whispered, his eyes locking on yours for a moment. “I know you wanted to get cozy with me.”

You wanted to say BEST but you were to shy, red as tomato. “My lap is pretty cozy, don’t you think?” He asked with a smirk. “Nice and soft just for you.” He chuckled. “I bet you never thought to be here, huh?” You somehow found your voice to speak "Yeah it is cozy and no I never thought I would be here"

“And I bet you never thought I’d be this sweet with you.” He teased, his tone still sweet as he held you. “Is this what you wanted? A cozy night together?” He smirked. Truth to be told, you both were dancing around your feelings for each other, Sam gave up trying to get you both together, the sexual tension was deep. But neither of you tried to make a move. Who would have thought a serious injury would be the up rise of your relationship with Dean.

"Oh I knew you would be sweet with me and yes this is what I wanted" you said with confidence that you found all of a sudden. “Oh yeah? How’d you know?” He asked, his smirk turning into a little grin. “Maybe I’m sweet with every girl I see?” He asked playfully. You gave him a death glare, how dare he ruin the perfect moment?

“What?” He asked with a smirk, not letting go of you. “Don’t tell me you’re a jealous princess.” "Why would I? Maybe someone else might be sweet with me too!" “Someone else? Someone better than me?” He asked, his voice turning flirty as he kissed your cheek. “Because if someone did, you’d be sleeping in their arms right now, not with me, right?” He smirked.

How the hell did this man had so much effect on you? From chewing your ears off, to manhandling for money, to demanding to kiss him, to making you speechless! How did he do that?

"You got the point" you scoffed and pouted. His smirk faded and he stared at you, his eyes full of longing and desire. “I don’t want anybody else. I want you, always.” He said, not letting go of you. “Are you mine and I can have you?” He asked, his gaze on you firm. How can you say no to him, when he is looking at you like that? "I'm yours, you can have me."

He smiled and held on tight to you, his lips caressing your forehead gently. “I thought you were never going to admit it. You’re too stubborn.” He chuckled. “But you are mine now. So I expect cuddles and kisses every night.” He teased, his voice turning sweet again. "My stubborn-ness depends on the situation and this is a complete new Dean Winchester I'm witnessing, not complaining though."

“Oh really? So you didn’t have an idea that I could be sweet?” He chuckled, running his fingers through your hair. He then leaned a little closer to your ears. “You should see what else I can do when alone with you.” He whispered, his voice full of seduction. You looked at him with a love filled gaze. "What else do you want to do?"

“How about you let me show you?” He smirked and gently pulled you closer to him. “I hope you’re ready, sweetheart. It’s about to get heated up between us.” He whispered, smirking as his gaze locked on yours. You nodded and that was enough for him.

“Good.” That was all he said before turning your face towards him. He kissed you deeply, his lips full of passion and desire. His fingers slid trough your hair as his lips danced with yours, until he finally pulled away to breathe. “So, you want to see what else I can do alone with you?” He asked, his voice turning deep, playful and full of seduction. “I’m all yours, sweetheart.” Before you can answer him, his lips were on yours once more in an instant and his hand was back at your hair, caressing your head gently. As he kissed you passionately, he kept his eyes locked on yours as well, never looking away once, as if he never wants to forget this moment he’s spending with you. “Does that answer your question, sweetheart? How I can be sweet with you?” He whispered, his voice thick with love and sincerity. “How I can be gentle and caressing?” He asked, his tone turning sweet again.

"Yes it does" you whispered. “Good, my princess.” He pulled away from the kiss once more and ran his fingers through your hair once again, admiring your beauty. “Do you know how much I love you?” He asked, his voice turning gentle as his eyes locked on yours. “I care for you a lot. Too much to lose you.” He whispered. “So don't ever make me worry, ok? And never put yourself in a risky situation. Ok?”

"I promise you I won't do it ever again" “Good. Now lay on me again. I missed having you in my arms.” He chuckled and opened his arms out once more, waiting for you to lay on his lap. “And then we’ll go to sleep.” He added, smirking. “Because you need to get some rest after today.” He said, his tone turning gentle again. He pulled you closer, so that your head lay on his chest once more, the same as how it was before.

“Good night, princess.” And with those words, Dean closed his eyes as he held you tight to his chest.

(This is my first ever attempt writing about Dean Winchester, I hope you all enjoy, let me know in comments 😊❤️)

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