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sanatomis · 20 days

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⋆.ೃ࿔* ── 𝐃𝐈𝐘-𝐃𝐀𝐃!

it’s career day, and megumi has to bring his dad to school so he can tell the class about his job. the problem? he only has a 20-year-old sorcerer-guardian who has the brain capacity of a walnut.

content. canon divergence (suguru’s alive and studying to be a kindergarten teacher), possible ooc characters, female!reader.

notes. guys i’m a sucker for satoru who really, really tries and isn’t just a goofy man-child ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১ also ! thank you all for your patience, it took me a while to finish this piece bc of uni, so i'm vv happy it's finally done <3

taglist. | masterlist.

“I don’t have a dad.”

As cruel as it may be, a part of Megumi hopes that the sentence makes his teacher greatly uncomfortable. Demanding for a father to attend a Career Day at school simply isn’t fair to children without one—or, well, to the child without one. It’s not his fault his father hauled ass and left, so why is she making this so difficult for him?

“Oh,” she mumbles. It seems his arrow hit the target, as her eyebrows pull together in a frown and she shifts her weight between her feet. “Well, you, uh, have a male guardian, don’t you?”

Megumi grimaces. Instantly, he thinks back to last week. Satoru Gojo, self-proclaimed strongest, had hit his head on a kitchen cabinet. With a dramatic pout and an overexaggerated wobble to his lips, he clung to you for hours. Some affection will make it all better!

Of course, when Megumi criticised his skills surrounding his infinity technique—because, really, how couldn’t it block a simple cabinet—the sorcerer opted to ignore him. He suspects there was some foul play at hand.

“Barely,” he mutters, as the memory resurfaces.

His teacher lets out a startled hum. “I’m sorry?”

“Nothing,” Megumi says quickly. He watches as she starts typing on her computer, and the realisation that she’s probably currently taking a look at his file isn’t a particularly welcome one. “What about my other guardian? Can I bring her, instead?”

“This event is geared towards fathers,” she explains. It’s obvious she forgot her reading glasses today, Megumi thinks, as she needs to narrow her eyes to read the screen in front of her. “I have one Satoru Gojo noted down as your male guardian. Surely, he will be able to attend.”

Megumi pauses. He blinks up at her expressionlessly, and fights off the urge to push his teacher down a well. You often preach about being kind to others, and that wouldn’t be very kind.

“Can’t I take my oth—”

“I’m afraid not,” she interrupts him before he even gets the sentence out. It irks him. Megumi isn’t fond of speaking to begin with, so when he does, he’d prefer not to be cut off halfway through. “An exception will not be made. Please, make sure to bring Gojo-san to school.”

Megumi briefly, and for the very first time ever, mourns the fact that you and Satoru weren’t married. A small part of him calls the man a coward for not asking you to. If he’d simply taken the step, then Megumi would be able to pass you off as Gojo-san. Unfortunately, he can’t, and it’s becoming increasingly clear that there’s no way around this problem.

“Fine,” he grumbles. It takes all of his remaining willpower to not stomp out of the classroom. Once again, he thinks of you. It’d be extremely bad manners. He can’t find it in himself to wish his teacher a nice day this time, though, and so she’ll have to make due with a slightly less polite Megumi for today.

There’s nothing he can do about it. Satoru will have to come to the school.

Megumi suddenly despises the idea of Career Day.

“I need you to come to my school next week.”

Immediately, all chatter around the dining table stops. For once, Megumi finds himself annoyed at the sudden appearance of silence. Before he said it, he knew his words would most likely have such an effect—he just didn’t expect it to be so instant.

He tries his best to feign nonchalance, as if the topic that’s coming up didn’t make him feel stressed-out beyond belief. The confused, startled glances you and Satoru share don’t do much to help him, either. Perhaps it’s because Megumi is looking straight at him; him instead of you. Yeah, Satoru, he isn’t a fan of it, either.

“Me?” The man asks then, and Megumi has to resist the urge to say, ‘no, I meant the snail in the backyard—yes, you,’ in the most sarcastic voice he can muster up. Satoru once again steals a look at you, ever so oblivious to Megumi's mental remarks. “Don’t you mean—”

“I don’t,” Megumi cuts him off solemnly. His lips are pursed shut, and he pokes the slices of pork belly in his bowl with his chopsticks. One didn’t need to be of particularly high intelligence to notice the boy’s displeasure. “I have to bring a male figure for Career Day.”

It’s slow, the morphing of Satoru’s face, but it happens gradually and doesn’t stop until he’s positively beaming. Megumi doesn’t like it one bit. Nothing good happens when he looks like that, and he’s quite sure that all that will spew out of his mouth in a few seconds will be nothing except for pure nonsense.

“Well, luckily, I will have the day off, then!” Satoru chimes, with a smile so wide it causes two dimples to appear on his cheeks. You copy his smile, and gently go to poke the little dent in his skin—Satoru lets you, as he always does. Megumi would think of it as cute if he weren’t so annoyed. “I will be there.”

It seems he was right. Satoru’s words are pure nonsense.

“I didn’t tell you when,” he comments dryly.

The sorcerer blinks. His smile is still on his face, but it’s fading, and the dimples do so with it. Your hand hovers halfway in the air, stuck with nothing to poke, and you slowly bring it back down to your side. It seems neither of you had taken time to think about that small fact—Megumi blames Satoru for dragging you down with him; him and those indentations in his cheek that you always seem to coo over.

“Oh,” Satoru mumbles. A crease between his brows forms as his brain hurries to catch up with the newfound information. A few seconds pass, and then the previous bravado returns. “Well, it doesn’t matter! I can take the day off. When do you need me? Tell me, and I’ll be there.”

Megumi very much doubts he can take days off all willy-nilly like that, especially after he pushed his workload onto someone else to attend his science fair last time, but then again, what does he know? If Satoru didn’t care about the consequences of his actions, then Megumi wasn’t about to break his own head doing so, either.

“Next Friday,” he mumbles. From the tone of his voice, it’s quite clear that he’d rather be saying anything else. “We have to leave at eight a.m., please, be on time.”

“Sure thing!” Satoru chimes, and with that, Megumi thinks the dreaded conversation has finally come to an end.

All in all—it could’ve gone worse. At least Satoru didn’t prolong it unnecessarily. Nor did he add a bunch of relentless teasing. He glances at the sorcerer. Satoru is happily munching on the dinner you’d prepared, both his cheeks stuffed full with entirely too much rice. It’s unbecoming, and a reflection of his poor manners, Megumi thinks, and he doesn’t understand how you look at the man with such hearts in your eyes.

Though, your more than adequate cooking seems to have saved him from one of Satoru’s onslaughts. He’s grateful. Even if he doesn’t particularly enjoy the sight in front of him.

“Hey, ‘toru?” You ask, breaking the silence with a slight hesitation to your voice. It nearly sounds nervous, and both Megumi and Tsumiki look up in alarm. Satoru hums, still chewing away. “What are you going to tell the class?”

Satoru stops eating. His chewing comes to a halt, and his chopsticks freeze in the air. A slice of pork drops from between them, and falls back into his bowl—It’s not hard to see the cogs turning in his head. “Uhm, I. . .” He swallows the food still in his mouth, and clears his throat.

Right. It’s Career Day—but Satoru can’t tell a bunch of seven to eight-year-olds that he hunts and kills grimy, ugly, and freakishly scary curses for a living, now, can he? Megumi doesn’t think that would go over well with the other parents. The boy sighs. It’s just one thing after another. He grimly believes the world might just be out to get him.

“I. . .Oh! I can tell them I’m a teacher,” his guardian scrambles for a solution, and Megumi can’t help but think it’s a little lack-lustre. Who would believe that guy is a teacher, anyway? Then again. . .Megumi doesn’t know a better fix for their current problem, either. He was so focused on the fact that it was Satoru that had to come to the school, he all but forgot about the fact that the dear thorn-in-his-side didn’t possess a normal job. “Suguru has told me a thing or two about his internship. I can take inspiration from there.”

Ah, yes. The famed Suguru Geto. Megumi has met him before. He hasn’t actually spoken to him, however. The man often visits, and has twin girls clinging to him when he does, and while Tsumiki seems to really like him—and them—Megumi doesn’t have an interest in seeking out some form of interaction, yet. Whenever he comes over, Megumi opts to hide in his room. Suguru never tries to disturb him, nor does he try to coax him into coming out. He’s very grateful for it.

So, despite never speaking to him, Megumi knows about Suguru. Well, he knows enough. He knows Suguru went to school with the two of you, and he knows something really, very bad (nearly) happened that caused the man to take a step back from the world you all live in. What exactly happened (or what didn’t happen), Megumi doesn’t know for sure. You and Satoru almost never speak about it, and when you do, it’s in hushed voices—and you always stop immediately when he enters the room.

But that’s okay. He doesn’t need to know. Suguru doesn’t force himself upon Megumi, and so he will extend him the same courtesy. “I thought Geto-san wasn’t a teacher, yet?” Tsumiki speaks up from beside him, tilting her head to the side in confusion. “Mimi and Nana said he’s still learning. How can he be teaching, already?”

“He’s not a teacher, yet, munchkin, well spotted,” Satoru answers with a proud grin. The nickname annoys Megumi—the feeling of irritation has been conditioned into his very being after Satoru chose it as the designated nickname for both of them. “An internship helps him build experience in the field. It means he is still learning, but he will do so while teaching.”

Tsumiki nods in understanding, her mouth opens and her lips curl into a small ‘ah’ as the information settles in. “So, you will pretend to be a teacher, then? At Megumi’s school?”

Satoru bites on his bottom lip, seemingly deep in thought. Seemingly—as Megumi is quite convinced he doesn’t ever think before he speaks. “I think so, yes,” he explains, and unknowingly retorates Megumi’s train of thoughts. How annoying. Satoru looks towards you for approval; it’s something he does very often. “It’s probably the safest route, no?”

“It’s our best option,” you say, and bring a thumb up to the corner of Satoru’s mouth. Gently, you wipe away a grain of rice stuck to his skin. It’s effortless, and nearly automated. Megumi wonders how many times you’ve had to do that. “Pretending to be a teacher shouldn’t be too difficult a task. Right, mochi?”

“Right,” Satoru echoes. His eyes track your every move, and the slight, pink colouring of his cheeks doesn’t seem to embarrass him even a little bit. Megumi thinks it should. Have some decorum. “I can do it, no problem.”

“Alright then,” you say, and smile. First at Satoru, and then at Megumi. You look at the boy for a few seconds; you’re about to ask him if he’s okay with it. He knows you are, because you always do. “Is that okay for you, Megumi?” It’s like clockwork, almost.

Megumi feels the need to answer with something snarky. Something akin to the sound of ‘What choice do I have?’ but he doesn’t—because you’re being kind, and you don’t deserve such a response. So, instead he turns towards Satoru.

“. . .Just don’t mess it up.”

Satoru delivers a whole spiel about how ‘he’d never do that’ and that he’s ‘more than capable’ of telling a little white lie, but Megumi dilutes it to background noise rather quickly. He continues sputtering his nonsense when Megumi and Tsumiki stand up to clear the table, and still hasn’t stopped even when you and him start loading the dishwasher together—Megumi chooses to seek reprieve in his room while he’s distracted.

It isn’t until many hours later, when Megumi leaves the sanctuary of his room to swipe a quick snack from the kitchen, that he first hears Satoru speak about something other than his great, and very much sufficient, ‘capabilities’. Your voices are muffled, and Megumi has to focus to make out your words. His soft, inaudible padding down the illuminated hallways comes to a halt. As if that would make his ears function better.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Satoru?”

The boy frowns. With such gentleness in your voice, it’s hard to identify the worry lingering beneath the surface. Megumi moves a bit closer. He stops one step shy of bumping into the wooden surface, and peeks through the groove. The door is ajar—it’s something that allows him to watch how your eyes follow Satoru’s large frame as he paces around the room. It’s strange. Seeing him so. . .frazzled.

Satoru nods. “I can do this, I know I can,” he says, and quits his pacing to look at you. Megumi can’t see his face, but he can see yours. He might as well not have, though, as he can’t make out the emotion that fills your eyes. It’s not one he himself has in his repertoire, that he knows for sure. “He never asks me for anything, princess. I have to do this right.”

Ah, this isn’t a conversation Megumi is meant to hear. He should probably seize his eavesdropping, he thinks, and winces a little when he properly analyses Satoru’s words. They’re truthful. Megumi doesn’t go to him when he needs something. His first thought is to go to you—and his second, Tsumiki. And if he’s being honest anyway, his third thought very likely isn’t Satoru, either; He’d try to solve it on his own if it came down to it. Megumi frowns again. He doesn’t like how that realisation makes him feel.

A careful shuffle of footsteps breaks him free from his thoughts. Megumi looks up, and catches how you place a hand on Satoru’s cheek. “I’m sure you’ll do great, baby,” you mumble. There’s a small, soft smile on your lips, one that quickly makes way for the peck Satoru places upon them.

“Thank you,” Satoru whispers. One of his hands reaches for yours, and Megumi suddenly feels as if he’s intruding on something when the man brings them up to his lips to press a tender kiss to them. Okay, no, definitely intruding—ew.

The boy scrunches his nose up in disgust, and hurriedly darts back towards his room. Suddenly, he has lost his appetite for a late-evening snack. Megumi lets out a deep sigh once he’s all tucked into his sheets again. Perhaps giving Satoru a shot wouldn’t be that big of a problem. Just one, though.

. . .Yeah, just one should be enough.

It’s the final, conclusive thought Megumi has before dozing off to sleep. Blissfully unaware of the conversation you and Satoru share—now behind a very closed door.

You stifle a giggle. The disappearance of Megumi’s presence outside your bedroom was quick and rampant as soon as Satoru started to kiss your hands. Something the sorcerer did very deliberately. It’s as if the boy suddenly forgot about the very special, very effective pair of eyes his guardian possesses. And with a cursed energy output such as Megumi’s, it would be hard not to recognise his presence.

“You did that on purpose,” you comment. “How cruel of you, mochi.”

Satoru hums, and kisses the inside of your wrist. “Maybe, the little brat shouldn’t eavesdrop, then,” he defends himself. There isn’t an inkling of guilt to be seen on his pretty face.

. . .Though, both of you still take some extra care to shut the door next time.

Megumi faithfully believes that, as of today, he has used-up all of his luck for the next five, no, ten years. It can only go downhill from here. For some inexplicable, mind-boggling reason—Satoru is actually pulling this off. That’s not all; he’s not merely winging it, he’s genuinely doing well. The boy can’t quite believe his eyes.

When he’d walked to the front with such an overexaggerated pep in his step, and an overabundance of bravado rolling off of him in waves—Megumi couldn’t help but watch on with a grim look, and a healthy dose of negative thoughts. It only amplified the nerves he’d collected so far during the walk to school. Somehow, watching Satoru give your flashcards a frantic do-over did very little to ease his bubbling anxiety.

There were many of them, flashcards that is. All possible questions his peers or his teacher could ever think of are written on those little pieces of cardboard. Courtesy of you, and your boyfriend. Megumi’s able to recall all those nights the two of you spend at the kitchen table—practising. He thought it was silly at the time.

But, as it turns out, it works.

Satoru is fun. To other people; Megumi doesn’t share the sentiment. Against all odds, he’s dynamic, and speaks with conviction. His flamboyant hand gestures have others think of them as amusing—captivating, even. Satoru is talking, and they’re all hanging onto his every word. No matter the fact that they’re all cleverly disguised lies.

Megumi can’t wrap his head around it. He doesn’t need to, however. If anything, he’s relieved that his peers think of his guardian as cool. While he certainly does not share the opinion, he isn’t too dense to admit that such a belief will save him a lot of embarrassment in the future. So, for this one, single day, he will let Satoru Gojo be cool. His snarky comments can resume tomorrow.

“Ah, it seems you have a deep love for your profession, Gojo-san,” his teacher says. She interrupts Satoru’s rant, and catches his attention as well as Megumi’s. Her voice is light and airy, and carries nothing that should cause him to fear the worst. Still, the boy feels on edge. “Though, I don’t remember the grade you are teaching. Could you tell us, again?”

Ah, and there it goes. The very first card in the elaborately built castle of lies.

Satoru pauses. A second passes, and then two, and three, and so on. He doesn’t speak for a good thirty, and Megumi can nearly see his mind leaf through his beloved flashcards—flashcards that are now neatly tucked into his pockets and entirely out of reach. That’s good. Because the absolute last thing Satoru should do now, is resort back to the flashcards.

Megumi shakes his head no as a signal.

“Ah,” Satoru says. “I teach kindergarten.”

Satoru didn’t catch the hint. Megumi wishes the ground would swallow him up. It would have been the correct answer—it is the answer that’s written on the flashcards—if Satoru hadn’t decided to go off route. Getting too caught up in the story he’d been free-writing, and allowing himself to get carried away by the looks of awe is resulting in his downfall, which, consecutively, will end with Megumi’s downfall, as well.

“Huh? But! What about the science experiment that exploded?” One of the children in his class whines. “I didn’t get to do that in kindergarten!”

“And the backflip you taught your students!”

“What about the first prize in the talent show? I thought your students were famous!”

The little bit of colour that normally resides in Satoru’s face steadily disappears, and he clenches his fist at his side. Ah, it’s great to know he’s at least aware of his mistake. That won’t help either of them at the moment, though. Megumi’s eyebrows furrow, and a feeling of distress overtakes him. It shows on his face. He doesn’t exactly go through the trouble of trying to hide it—there are bigger problems right now.

How utterly humiliating to be caught lying.

Satoru’s eyes find him. They’re just as troubled as his own. It worsens his anxiety.

“Oh, uhm, you see. . .” Satoru stammers, and Megumi’s stomach churns when the children around them continue to ask more and more questions. The wince his guardian lets out does little to soothe him. Megumi sighs, and looks at the ground. “Ah, I see. It seems you guys saw right through me.”

Megumi slides down in his seat. Maybe, if he tried hard enough, the ground would absorb him. It’s currently looking like a preferable fate.

“. . .I’m actually a detective.”

Oh, Jesus Christ.

“And. . .And for a detective, it’s very important to listen to what people say, because they could be lying!”

It’s a sad, pathetic excuse for a save. Megumi briefly ponders the distance between his seat and the door. Perhaps he could make a run for it. The subway station is very close by—getting on and travelling to an entirely new city to start a new life doesn’t seem like such a bad option. He sighs. No, that’s not possible. You and Tsumiki would be very worried. What else is there to do, though?

“You all picked up on my lie, which tells me every single one of you could make a great detective in the future.”

Megumi thinks Satoru might have some underlying mental problems. Though, they can’t possibly be as severe as the problems his classmates have—for they all believe the nonsense he’s giving them. Bright eyes, filled with hope and admiration, stare up at the man at the front of the class; impressed hums and entertained smiles get passed between the parents standing at the edge of the room. And Satoru, well, he seems entirely too proud of the fact that he made a bunch of children think they’re destined for a career in law enforcement. But, be that as it may, it works.

The children stir up unrest—the good kind this time, the kind that vocalises their excitement—and all rush to ask the detective a question. But, before they can even open their mouths, Satoru claps his hands together. It seems he has decided enough is enough, and it’s one of those very rare moments where Megumi agrees with him. The boy needs this to be over already.

“Alright, that’s it for today,” Satoru says, and feigns disappointment. He pretends to be affected by the sad groans of the children—keyword being pretend, as to the trained eye it’s quite clear that he wishes to leave. “I’m not allowed to tell you more.”

Ah, see, now that’s a good card.

“Wait, but, what about. . .”

“Ah, sorry, that’s confidential. Detective stuff, y’know?”

Confidential. Megumi thinks that might just be his new favourite word. The lingering feeling of anxiety slowly starts to subside with every step Satoru takes towards the back of the room—to the back, and away from the spotlight. His eyes follow the man’s large frame, but Satoru never chooses to look at him in return. His line of sight is firmly focused on the floor. It confuses Megumi, but he chalks it up to a mere whim.

All things considered (and minus the near cardiac arrest he went through), today went pretty well, after all. Much to his surprise.

Perhaps Megumi doesn’t hate Career Day. A strong dislike is more like it.

Megumi can’t count the times he wished for Satoru to be quiet. The exact number is much like the digits of Pi—huge, and absolutely never-ending. He can, however, count the times he didn’t wish for him to be quiet. As of today, that stands at a very solid one.

The birds around them chirp, and the bustle of other people is heard all around them—but they’re the only sounds gracing his ears. There is none of Satoru’s incessant chatter, nor is there even a glimmer of gloating about a job well-done. It’s eerily silent, and Megumi isn’t sure what to make of it. This isn’t quite how he imagined the walk home to go. Far from it, if he’s being honest.

“What’s up with you?”

It’s possibly the first time Megumi decides to break the silence, ever. The boy frowns, and fiddles with the straps of his backpack. There isn’t a middle-ground with Satoru, he has found out. Either he speaks entirely too much, or unnervingly little. There’s a tiny pebble in his path, and Megumi feels the need to kick it forward—so he does.

“I kind of messed up there, huh?”

The kick doesn’t have nearly enough force to it. Megumi watches as the little rock skips forward. Once, twice, and then it comes to a standstill again. “Yeah, kind of,” he agrees.

“I’m sorry,” Satoru rushes out. It’s said so fast, as if it physically pains him to say it. Perhaps it does. It’s sincere, however. There isn’t even a hint of a joke to be found. Something must be bothering him. “It didn’t go how I wanted it to go, and I don’t know why I went astray, and forgot about the cards. It—well, it was pretty stupid.”

Megumi doesn’t exactly feel the need to deny it.

“So, I get it, okay?” He continues, seeing the boy’s silence as an empty space for more conversation—more rambling. Since that’s what it is; rambles, plain and simple. Megumi doesn’t see the need for such a fuss. “I shouldn’t have strayed from the plan, and. . .”

“It’s fine.”

Satoru blinks at him. “What?”

“I said it’s fine,” Megumi repeats. Because it really is fine. Admittedly, it wasn’t smart of Satoru to all but discard your carefully planned presentation, but it ended well enough regardless. No harm, no foul. “Thank you for coming.”

That small, short sentence is enough to stop Satoru in his tracks. Megumi doesn’t, however. The man is very tall, he’s sure to catch up in a jiffy; he doesn’t need him to wait. There’s another small silence, though this one feels a lot more comfortable than the last. Satoru takes his time to process, and Megumi lets him.

“W—What?” The sorcerer stammers in shock. There is no need for Megumi to turn around and see—he can hear the smile curling onto his lips. “Did you just. . .”

“I won’t say it again,” Megumi grumbles definitively, and picks up his pace. The very tips of his ears heat up, and the apples of his cheeks turn red. The feeling of embarrassment. This wasn’t exactly how he’d envisioned it to appear when the day started.

Satoru attempts to run after him, to catch up. “Megumi!” He calls out, the very prominent, very familiar whiney lilt now back in his voice. Megumi didn’t miss it. “Wait for me, I didn’t hear you! Could you repeat that?”

“Yes, you did!” Megumi says, and throws him an annoyed glance from over his shoulder. He tightens his hold on the straps of his backpack. “Stop lying.”

“Nuh uh!”

“What are you? Six?”

Satoru’s toothy grin is infuriating. But—it’s familiar. And Megumi discovers he’s much more at ease when that grin is on display, than when the man in question is moping around. It’s a lot less alarming.

“And a half,” Satoru adds.

The scowl that’s on Megumi’s face appears almost instantly when he goes to ruffle his hair. For a man whose technique largely surrounds being untouchable, he has a surprising lack of awareness concerning this thing called personal space.

“Ugh,” Megumi groans, and pushes him off. It doesn’t work. Satoru gravitates towards him again—almost as if he’s a magnet. He doesn’t attempt to move a second time. In moments like these, it’s best to let Satoru get it all out of his system. “You’re so stupid.”

It’s true. He does think Satoru is stupid, but he can’t deny it—Satoru tried his very best today, and in the days prior. Which makes him one of the very small, barely existent group of people who have done so for him.

It seems one shot was enough, after all.

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#ꕤ — sanatomis darling: fushiguro megumi #ꕤ — sanatomis darling: gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi x platonic!reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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angel-of-the-moons · 6 months

Note

Need Steven with a freak. Let’s say he’s been dating this girl for a while and he’s ready to take it to the next step. He’s super worried he’ll make you all uncomfortable and stuff when he asks but the next thing he know he’s being ridden till the break of dawn

(I’m ovulating I am so sorry-)

OMG SAMESIES AND I. AM. ✨FERAL✨ RN

Please

Steven Grant x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: Smut, just smut af, protected sex (implant), oral sex (m!receiving) creampie, overstimulation

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: This lil dress here is what I had in mind for the outfit in the start. (I'm a sucker for sunflower patterns)

🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒

It had to be tonight. He just couldn't take it anymore. None of them could.

But Steven was the worst about his urges. He felt awkward and worried it would chase you away, the first girlfriend he ever got to finally have; all the others didn't understand his... Problems.

Problems he later learned were triggered by Marc (and in some cases, Jake), but you? You took them in stride, like a duck to water.

The moment he first saw you, his breath had been sucked right out of him. Marc and Jake went dead silent, too.

It was a gloomy, dreary day; the rain coming down in heavy droplets, casting a grim light down on the London streets.

But there you were, walking around the museum, looking at exhibits and scribbling notes in your tiny notebook with oh, so many post-its sticking out, fattening the tiny book until it looked close to bursting.

You were the only ray of sunshine on that day, your yellow dress that hugged your body just right, little sunflowers covering the fabric. Your hair done just the right way to accentuate your face as your eyes studied each artifact and bauble you saw.

To say the boys were instantly smitten was an understatement.

It took weeks of bumping into you to work up the courage to talk to you, and it was only when you came in to buy a rather dinky looking scarab plushie in the gift shop. It's this conversation where he finds out you're in school, trying to become an archaeologist and historian.

Steven's dream girl, and he had hearts in his eyes at every word you spoke.

He couldn't help but blubber out a request for a date, and you agreed.

The rest... History in the making.

You'd been dating for two months, but already he could feel the pull of urges he didn't necessarily indulge in often.

Sure, he, Marc and Jake could indulge in it themselves, trying to take the edge off. But sometimes it felt like the more he indulged in it, the more intense his fantasies got.

He simply couldn't keep tugging his cock for momentary relief anymore, imagining it was your soft hand, your mouth, your tits or something else wrapped around his cock that had him practically drooling: your sweet cunt.

But tonight? Tonight was the night. He was afraid to bring it up because he didn't want you to feel like he was moving too fast; and he could barely function when you admitted you were a little surprised he waited so long. (And teased him a little for how sometimes he just wasn't stealthy when trying to conceal a surprise boner.)

You'd told him that you thought about him too, and that you were more than willing to let him indulge.

But it was from there that you found out that Steven had never actually been intimate with anyone. Jake and Marc had, yes. But poor Steven has just never had the luck.

And that's how Steven found himself in this precarious situation, you on your knees, your pretty little mouth wrapped around his cock as you bobbed your head so sweetly, tongue laving around his length, hollowing and sucking your cheeks with every drag, tracing the vein that ran up the side of him.

He couldn't stop with the babbling praises, the sweet petting in your hair.

Honestly, if you knew he was this weak? You'd have jumped his bones a lot sooner. Probably after the fourth or fifth date. It was rare you found someone who was intellectually a joy to talk to (not excluding Marc and Jake) who was so handsome and sweet to you.

One hand was thrust down into your panties, playing with yourself, dress hiked up so you could have better access as you continue sucking him off, the lewd sounds coming from both of you more suited to a pornography than the quiet air of his flat.

You could feel your orgasm cresting already, but you knew that you didn't want to just cum on your fingers like you had so many times before, you wanted to feel Steven inside of you and god did you want to drain him for everything he had.

Steven made a whine, babbling your name again.

"L-luv, I'm--I'm gonna--ugh--"

He couldn't even get the sentence out before you felt him spill down your throat, his hips bucking suddenly you gagged, carefully adjusting so you didn't choke as he pumped his load into your greedy mouth.

Well... you weren't surprised he didn't last very long...

He immediately started rattling off apologies that had you giggling.

God damn, you were going to enjoy draining him. Maybe Marc and Jake, too.

The blush that spread up to his ears made him look absolutely adorable.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to--" He stammered out, covering his face. "In--in your mouth, I--"

With the fluid grace of a cat you climb into his lap, straddling him.

You cup his cheeks and kiss him softly, before pulling away.

"You're alright." You assure him, peppering his adorable face with kisses.

It's when he squeezes your thighs and ruts up into you, his face buried in your neck that you realize he's still hard.

You bite your lip and kiss his ear.

"Steven, do you want me to ride you?"

"Ohgodsyesplease." He breathes out on a whimper.

You hastily line his cock up with your hole and sink down, taking him in inch by delicious inch until you're stretched beautifully around him.

You tip your head back with a groan. He certainly had girth for days, that was for sure.

"I'm... Already close. Can you help me?" You say, giving him a sweet pout that makes his heart jump up into his throat.

"Y-yes, I can--"

The way he keeps cutting himself off makes you want to cuddle him and cover him with kisses, but at the same time fuck him until his legs go numb.

Maybe you'd do the former later.

You pull his fingers into your mouth and he makes a soft moan when you suck his fingers, swirling your tongue around his calloused digits until you deemed them wet enough.

Then, you guide his hand down your body to your throbbing clit, and show him the rhythm that'd work for you best.

"Try to keep it in time with me, m'kay?" You groan, grinding down on him in one slow, languid movement.

His eyes roll back, but he nods and keeps his fingers over your clit, massaging the bundle of nerves in time with each downward stroke of your hips.

Every bit of him had you aching, from his electric touches to his fat cock spearing you open and fucking your weeping pussy in the best way possible, you kicked yourself mentally again for not bringing up sex sooner.

Steven's cock felt far better inside of you than your fingers or your toys at home. He felt hot, he felt real. And real is what you'd been lacking lately.

Whatever Steven would give you, you planned on taking happily. You would--

Your eyes flutter open when Steven suddenly arches his back and hits you deeper than you expected him to; opening your mouth in a quiet cry, no sound escapes as your orgasm hits you and Steven continues swiping at your clit, fucking you from below as you shudder and collapse on top of him as he continues breathing on the hot embers of your orgasm to keep it going for as long as possible.

"Please." He whines in your ear.

"Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease."

"In-inside--" You whimper, biting down on his shoulder, earning a toe-curling moan from him.

"You can do it inside."

He grits his teeth and let's out a hissing cry, veins popping in his neck and forehead as he fucks his spend up into you, his orgasm burning and flaying his nerves raw as he pumps you full.

He drops back onto the cushions of the couch and sofa, breathing hard, desperately trying to drag oxygen back into his lungs.

Reality however, is a cruel mistress and he looks down at where you two were connected.

"Oh, b-bloody hell. I--I didn't--"

"Relax, hon." You giggle, leaning back with one hand braced on one of his knees for support, your other hand trailing lazily down to where his cock still split you open, his cum leaking out around his length. The sight of you sent a dizzying spiral through him.

"I'm safe, promise. I have an implant. Still good for another three years."

The thought that he could keep doing this for three years--

His mind went blank when you grind down on his lap, feeling his cock stir to life despite the fact he was now exhausted.

"L-luv, I... I don't think I can..." He panted desperately.

Your brace your hands on his chest and start bouncing on his lap, grinning wickedly the whole time.

"I'm gonna keep going until I drain you dry, sweetheart. Get comfortable."

The gulp he made was audible in the space you shared, as was the sinful slap of skin on skin.

#answered #moon knight #steven grant #steven grant smut #steven grant x you #steven grant x reader

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jester089 · 6 months

Note

Gotta say, massive fan of the work you’ve pumped out, especially for TADC (it came out two weeks or so ago and there’s this much already what?!)

That said, could you write for the gang (separately, I’m sorry l know it’s a lot) who’s s/o resisted abstraction? Like, they were halfway through but turned back through sheer will? *Insert John Wick reference* This has been ping ponging in my head for a while. Thanks for listening! XO

Glitchy pain

I've written for something like this before. And I wasn't sure if you wanted angst or fluff. But since what I wrote before was angst I'm gonna just donna do my ideas on this one. Also to anyone else who feels like requesting don't be afraid to ask for a lot of characters. My max is like 10 and only because Tumblr doesn't like super long posts. I honestly don't think I would have a max if not for that. But really from like 7 pm to 4 am I got a lot of free time and the want to write. So ask to your hearts content. TADC crew x (kind of) abstracted reader

Caine

Caine was floating around when he heard what sounded like a pained and glitchy scream? He quickly floats over to where he heard it from only to find you clutching your head crumpled up into a ball on the floor. He was about to float down and ask you what happened before he noticed the random glitches, black spiky flesh, and randomly colored eye balls all appearing and disappearing in the blink of an eye. So he backed off, a little sad over the fact you were abstracting but life goes on. Until you let out another pained scream, it was almost like the abstraction reacted as the second you screamed it reverted a bit and slowed down. It continues like that for who knows how long. You in a mental and physical battle with abstraction. Caine just staring completely taken back by what he was witnessing. After enough time you vomit a nasty and seemingly living blob of black goo onto the floor and pass out. Caine stares at your motionless body for a few seconds before snapping out of it. He puts the weird goo blob into the cellar and takes you back to your room. He doesn't even know how to react, so he sits there at your bedside waiting for you to wake up. Once you do he is relived to find it's still you, speaking in full sentences and everything. Sure your voice and body have the occasional glitch but overall you're ok. So he leaves you be, mostly. He still needs to study your code for how you did that. But past that and him being a bit more "walking on egg shells" around you, but nothing really changes. And not wanting the others to think your a threat, you and Caine don't tell anyone.

Gangle

Gangle was wandering around looking for you. Her comedy mask broke again and you were the only one who knew how to fix it properly. She could patch it up sure but it never lasted long. Much like Caine she heard you scream out, only difference being she recognized your voice. She quickly changed from casual and aimless stroll to sprint with reason finding you leaned against a wall holding your stomach looking like your about to throw up. She runs up to you and places a hand(?) on each side of your head staring into your eyes. She in a panicked voice asks "Are you ok?! What happened?!" You half shove her away a garbled and messy version of your voice half screaming out that it isn't safe. You quickly regret taking the energy to speak and move as a giant surge of pain jolts up your digital spine forcing you onto your knees. You let out another pained groan/scream as black goo starts oozing out of your mouth. It's only then that Gangle realizes your glitching! She panics and tells you to stay calm while she gets Caine. Gangle sprints off with a mission luckily finding Caine rather quickly. She especially screams at him to help her/follow her. He listens and follows her. When she gets back to where she left you, your passed out. But you aren't glitching anymore. And your not fully abstracted. She carefully walks over to you and sets a gentle hand (ribbon) on your face feeling a whole lot of relief when you half swat at her hand in your sleep. She'll watch you while you sleep making sure you aren't disturbed but when you're awake and she's sure you're ok you are going to be getting a whole lot of cuddles from her. Her comedy mask can wait.

Zooble

Zooble was missing a leg and was hobbling/jumping her way towards your room to ask if you'd seen it. She knocked on your door only to receive no response. She knocks again. Nothing. So she unlocks it with the spare key you gave her. She is stunned by what she sees. Obsessive scribbles covering your walls. Wall paper torn and dirtied. She takes a few cautious steps before finally hearing you say in a horrible sounding voice "P̵̛̣̤̪̑̈́̄͆̚p̴̹͇̆̑̐͠ṕ̷͔̼͙̅̀͐̿͋͜͝P̵̢͚̩̱̮̭̉͜͠l̵͔̟̰̘̼̹̼̯͉͆ḛ̴̣͈̖͛̈́̏̏͌̕͜a̴̢͇̣̮̠͕̮͆̾s̸̡͉̣̺̯͚̾̈́͋̃̑͊͘s̵̼͛̃͛̄̏̊̊͜͠ͅs̷̨̯̬̯͊e̵̢̪̜̗͙̞͈̠͌̔͠s̸̢͔̝̳̞͈̭̲͂͆̇̄͛́́͗ͅͅ ̴̗̻̳̗̜̙̹̘͒̒̑̅̂̎̚͘w̴̰̘͂͊̌̒͘w̸̢̦̑̍̈́͊W̷̨̄̑̌̂̚͝W̵̦̙͇̝̲̪̝̫̜̰̄͑̚w̶̮͐̏̀͊͠h̴̬̤̠̩̰͋͗̾̓̈́̍̅ó̴͍̭͇̯͚̮͔̽̓̔̈́ ̶̥̑͋͒̿̀Ê̶̼͎͇͍̳̯͌͋͐̓̋v̸̢͓̩͗͜͝v̴͇͇̮̻͖̪͕̰̹̫̔̌̎̇̑́ë̷̪̤̫̪͌͂̓̕͘e̵̢̨̱̘̗͙̘̱̱̩̎̾̀v̸͍̄͠ë̶̡̙̠̣̰̠́͜r̸͇̰͖̍͑͌̆̌ ̷̯̼͕͍̭̭̲͙̰̽̈́͝y̷̪͉͓͗̿̀̐̈̃̆õ̷̢̜̮̬͒̈́͒̿̀̽̈́͂̈́ǘ̸̡̟̭̩̠̜̬͙̃ṵ̴̭̮̹̯̺̜̤̈͂̽u̸̬̠͉̺͍̰͉̦͌̋́̃͌̊͘͜ ̵̲͖̩̹̲̊̐͂͝͝a̵̰̩̻̗͕͎̮͈̥̫͂̂̌̆̆̎̑a̴̭͒͐̏̎́́͝à̶̛̘̮͍̟̻͕̰̽̍͛̽̈́̃͛͝r̴͎͚͇̻̞̬͑̂̅̿͋̅̂͊̔ą̴̛̱̱̗̔̈́̈́̔͒̆̌͘͠r̵̺̰̬̹̮̬̘̜̈́̊͗͛̅̌͌͘͜ę̸̛̺̞͚̹̘̱̥̲̒̍̏̔͛̌̚ȇ̴̩.̶̛̖̙̦̝̹̰͔̉͂̆̉̐̾̐͠͝ ̵̘̙͎̼̻̩̬͖͌̉̾̂̄͜J̵͐̏̇̈́̑̃͜͝͝j̶̛̠̬̟̓͗͗͆̆̀̈́̿̂͜j̴̢͍̦͉̯͑̍̓J̷̨̧̢̳̟̠̯͖͖͚̐̈̏̓̈͐̎̐͝j̶̫̞̬͖̯̯̹̺̩͆̾̽́̈́̄ͅJ̵͖̘̫̓u̷̡̧͔̥͇͕͔̞̠̇͛̈́̎͂̌͂͘̕ş̶͕̫̎ṫ̷͈͖̲̩͉͌̅̍̈́́̿ ̷̠͕͕̖̜̻̯̻̖̃̏̀͂͑́l̷̳̣̼̓̈́̊̈́̈̎̀́̋̚͜L̶̡̜̣͔͔̼̠̗̎̇̈́̕Ļ̴̞̟̱̹͓̹̪͖͚̂̐͐̑̂͆̐̓̚͠ḽ̶̢̧̙̺̯͖̰͓͐͗̽̈́̃̔̀̾̕l̴̢̢̳̜̣̦̎́́̔̕̚e̷͔̫͉̘͉̓̓͋͊̀̿̄̕͝ͅã̷̡̢̝̮͔̮̰̱͒͌̈͊̾͂͠ͅͅv̷̗̼͎̠̝̋̓͒͛̂͐͜͜è̶̪̟̲̘̃̓ ̴̺̊̉͑̉̽̅́̕̕m̸̧̦͔̙͍̘̭̲̄͂m̸̧̫͎͌̀̃͜ͅM̴͍͍̫͚̺͚̪̺̿́̒͋̂͐̿͗̚͘m̴̛̘̼͔͑̿̏̅͌̊̾̕e̴̩̟͈̙͑̏͐̆̓͆̏̚͠͝ ̵̳̤͉͉͙̬̥̉̓́̀̓̃̀̌̊͜ͅḁ̶̧̗͈͍͍̉͂̀͆͗̾̆́̚͜͝l̴̜͓͈̄͌̓̈́̉͊͊̍͝a̵̲͒̋̂͐́̊̕̚͝â̶̢͕̫̘̮͈̻͕͙̩͑̂ḹ̵̨̮̓̓̊̍̕̚͝o̵͖͔̥̳̊̐̀͠n̵̺̥̲͔͔̿͋̊ë̶̯̤̻́̌̎̎́̾͋̄̄̋.̵̪̑͆̀̎" (Please whoever you are. Just leave me alone.) She cautiously walks over to your bed and peaks over it. Your laying there curled up into a ball torn and broken items surrounding you. Y-your abstracting?! B-but... Zooble doesn't even really register the fact. She's in shock from seeing you like this. (I mean I would be too) You let out an ear piercing scream and claw at your own face with enough force to tear the skin, if you weren't digital at least. The glitching gets much much worse for a few seconds before just, stopping. No rhyme or reason that she can see. But you can bet your a&$ that after like 5 seconds pass and you stop showing signs of abstraction she's going to huddle near your spitting out so many questions. Mainly ones like "ARE YOU OK!?!" and "Your still with me right?! RIGHT!?!"

Kinger

Kinger would more likely then not be there when your first started glitching. And that might make him officially lose it. Your the second person in this hell (Queener) who he felt close too. And he outlived you too. Still you aren't abstracted yet. Maybe their's still a chance! So he sprints off screaming out for Caine in a voice that is loud enough to make you go deaf if you were too close to him. When he finds Caine. And he will find Caine he grabs him by the shoulders and sprints towards where he last saw you. He basically throws Caine at your glitching form and yells at him to fix you! In that second you stop glitching Caine did nothing and Kinger will basically tackle you. He'll pick you up and hold you over his head like a spear and sprint towards your rooms. Once there he will set up the comfiest coziest pillow fort possible then get you all comfy inside. Once he's sure your at least mostly safe and he's at least mostly calmed down he'll ask you about what happened. (Despite him being pretty crazy I really do feel like out of everyone he would be the best at communication in a friend or relationship. I mean he's that crazy and yet he still has manners and knowledge about a lot. Tbh he might become my fav. Idk it's possible.)

Ragatha

You were helping out Ragatha with a surprise she was making for everyone to lighten their moods when you said that you feel kind of sick so you were going to call it a night. She nods thanks you for the help you gave then gives you a quick peck to the lips as a send off. Not to much to her surprise you choose to lay in her bed instead of yours. Just something you do when you don't wanna be alone. She shrugs it off and keeps working actually quite grateful that you decided to not leave, not fully at least. She keeps working but stops when she hears some very concerning noises coming from your sleeping body. She turns around to see you tossing and turning an abnormal amount in your sleep, as well as making a lot of noises that sound like when someone is choking on their own blood. Concerned she carefully walks over to check on you only to recoil when she notices the glitching. She trips over her own foot and falls over onto her back. She quickly but clumsily gets up and gets back to you. She shakes you a bit trying to wake you up, but you don't only concerning her more. She yells calls out for Pomni who pokes her head through Ragatha's door a second later. Ragatha nearly screams at her to go get Caine. Pomni startled by Ragatha's tone turns heel and runs off to look for Caine while Ragatha stays with you. She keeps whispering things like "You're gonna be ok" and "Pomni's getting Caine just hang in there". Always keeping a hand on you not caring when it starts glitching out too. When Pomni returns with Caine, Ragatha full on yells at him to help you. He looks at you, then back at her, then with a apologetic tone says their isn't anything he can do as abstraction is one of those things he doesn't have control over. Ragatha breaks into tears. So she's gonna lose you, she was even there. BUT SHE CAN'T F@%#&$* HELP?! She holds onto you like you're her last tether to reality. And you seem to get better. Your at the very least don't seem to be in pain anymore! So she squeezes you, really f&$%@#* hard happier then should be possible that your improving.

Jax

Jax found you in his room voice glitching you huddled over in pain. At first he thought it was a revenge prank and acted accordingly. "Haha, very funny Y/N. Now get out of my room I need to do something." That is until you vomited up a ton of pitch black goo. Then he started taking it more seriously. He quickly crouches down and wraps an arm around you to try and provide some support. He freaks out and quickly pulls his arm back when you vomit up more goo and starts visibly glitching. He panics and quickly looks around his room locking onto a like 3 day old unopened water bottle. He opens it and hands it to you as well as a thing to squeeze that half yells to just hang in there he'll be right back. He sprints around not even knowing who to get. He sees Ragatha and half tackles her. He shouts directly into her face that you need help and that you in his room. He tosses her in the direction of his room then continues sprinting around not long after finding Caine. He grabs Caine ignoring his protests and runs back to his room where he fins Ragatha sitting next to his bed you tucked in. Your not vomiting anything and you aren't glitching. You're just shivering. He hears you mumble his name and literally kicks Ragatha and Caine out quickly getting to your side. After he feels he wont get hurt he quickly gets into bed holding you close "If you ever do that again I'm going to take back my vow to not tease you." He falls asleep with his chin resting on your head.

Pomni

At first when you started glitching Pomni didn't really know it was abstraction. She's never seen someone abstract after all, only seeing the finished product. But when you keep getting worse and worse she realizes that something is wrong. So she leaves you with a quick kiss then runs off to the communication thing Caine made after the whole Kaufmo incident. She calls him and when he picks up she screams into the phone that your glitching out. When Caine appears next to her she runs back over to where you are not even checking if Caine is following. When she gets back to you, you're still in really bad shape. She turns back to Caine and yells at him to help you. When he tells her that he can't she starts hyperventilating, then she sees him pick you up and the cellar hole open?! OH F&#$ NO! She basically punches Caine then clings to you protectively, ready to throw hands with Caine if she has to. Caine tries and pull her off when she starts glitching but she has the grip of a professional rock climber. So Caine has to keep curing her glitches at they appear. Cause in his mind your beyond help but she isn't. Then you start to improve. No more coughing and the glitching has slowed down! Pomni glares at Caine then turns back to you with a scared and tired smile on her face. Once your ok enough to talk you are going to get an earful. WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL HER YOU WERE FEELING BAG ENOUGH TO ABSTRACT?!?!?! (Sorry this was so long. I got a little carried away. And surprisingly I'm pretty proud of this one. I hope you enjoyed it!)

xoxo, Jester

#tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #caine x reader #gangle x reader #zooble x reader #kinger x reader #ragatha x reader #jax x reader #pomni x reader #noob author #not beta'd

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honeyskywitch · 23 days

Text

prettier than a peach (john "bucky" egan x reader)

In which you're his favorite nurse, and John Egan tries his hardest to win your heart.

Words: 1.8K

Warnings: Bucky Egan is a warning all on his own. Fluffy, fluffy fluff.

Disclosure: Please do not copy my work on any other sites. I will be posting this here & on ao3 shortly. This fic is based on the characters brought to life in the Apple TV series Masters of the Air, not the real people the characters were based on.

Note: Peach!Reader is going to make many appearances, I'm going to make this a series. Without further adieu, enjoy.

It all started on a Saturday morning. It was early—really early. You hadn't really expected to have anyone walking around near the infirmary, but at half past 0300, you heard the sounds of heavy footfalls, with slurred speech and another low voice arguing.

You get up to look out the window, and not a second goes by before the door swings open. You recognize the two men instantly: Major Gale "Buck" Cleven is half dragging Major John "Bucky" Egan into the infirmary.

"Morning, ma'am." Major Cleven's blue eyes zero in on you immediately, and he offers you a kind (and apologetic) smile. "My buddy here had a bit too much to drink and got himself into a scuffle with some guys at the bar."

Your gaze flickers to Major Egan, studying him with a calculating gaze. He's going to have a black eye, you notice, and he's holding onto the left side of his ribs. It's not the first time you've heard of the Major getting into a fight, but it's the first time it's happened on your shift.

"Alright, Major." You're addressing Egan now, coming to his side to support his left side. "Let's get you settled in bed so I can take a look at those ribs."

You are wholly unprepared for the absolute human hurricane that is Major John Egan.

"Tryin' to get me in bed already, doll?" His words are slurred from too much alcohol, but his voice is deep and husky, and you hate the way it makes you shiver. "I don't even know your name."

Major Cleven sucks in a breath and rolls his eyes. "John Clarence Egan." That accent drawls his friend's name, and his tone is very much annoyed. "You're in the presence of a lady—a nurse—for crying out loud. Behave."

"Oh, c'mon, she walked right into that one." He insists, "She thought it was funny. You thought it was funny, right, doll?"

Stormy blue eyes are suddenly fixed on your face. It's almost like time stops for you; of course you've seen him around before, but the moment you really look into his eyes, it's like you can see your whole life ahead of you. He's quiet now, just watching you, and he finds himself absolutely anamored with the delicate blush working its way onto your face.

"It was a little funny." You admit it, but you don't meet his eyes again. You're too afraid of what you'll see on his face, because while you're falling hard and fast at first sight, he's only flirting with a woman. That's all it is to him, you're sure of it.

His chest is warm when you open his jacket and roll up his shirt. You have to ignore how beautifully masculine he is on order to focus on your job. Your eyes flicker to his abdomen, and sure enough, there are wicked bruises starting to show on the skin that covers his ribs. You're pretty sure they're not broken, but you have to be sure.

"This may hurt." You warn him, your fingers prodding gently at his side, and he hisses quietly under his breath. You don't feel anything out of place, but he'll definitely need a few hours of rest and something to ease the pain.

"Your hands are freezing." He grumbles, and before you can say anything, he's got both of them in his much bigger, warmer hands. "There, that's better."

"You're unbelievable, John Egan." Major Cleven speaks up from behind you, his tone more exasperated than anything else.

You carefully extract your hands from Major Egan's, and you try to ignore the way he pouts when you're no longer touching him. "I'll keep him overnight for observation, Major Cleven. Make sure he rests and heals up a bit."

Major Cleven looks strangely relieved, but still, he frowns. "Are you sure? I can handle Bucky; I don't want him causing you any trouble."

His gentle demeanor makes you smile. "I appreciate that, Major, but I've dealt with far rowdier men than Major Egan here. You go on and get some rest; I'll handle this."

Major Egan looks irritated that you and his best friend were talking about him like he wasn't even there. "Just call me Bucky. Or I'll take John." He tells you, his tone demanding, his lips pulled into yet another pout.

"You behave yourself." Major Cleven points a finger at him, his face stern. When he turns back to you, he offers another warm smile. "You might as well call me Buck, too, since you're saving me from trying to sleep in the same room as that one while he's drunk."

You offer your name in return, and you offer a comforting smile as you shoo Buck off to bed.

It's quiet for a moment after the other Major takes his leave. You wonder if the alcohol has made Major Egan fall asleep. You're surprised to see his eyes open and staring directly at you when you turn around.

"Can't remember if I've ever seen you around before." He says, his words still slightly slurred as he speaks. You can't recall ever having heard a voice like his before. Gravely, warm and steady, even with alcohol in his system. "I'd remember that face; you're so pretty."

"And you're drunk." You answer, turning away before he can notice that you're blushing. You've dealt with flirty airmen before, but this is the first time it's really gotten to you. "Get some rest, Major."

He's quiet for a moment, and you're grateful for a reprieve from the flirting as you mark the log book with a pencil. The only noise for a few moments is the lead scratching against the paper as you write.

"I'm gonna call you Peach."

When you turn back, his lips tug into the most heart-stopping smirk you've ever seen. "You could just call me Nurse." You point out, and for some reason, that only seems to egg him on.

"Well, I like Peach. You're prettier than a peach. Sweet as one too; look at that blush." You're sure you've forgotten how to breathe.

"You're a menace." You answer after you've finally gotten a hold of your emotions. "And it's early; you need rest. Sleep."

"How about a goodnight kiss first?" You almost toss the log book at him. Almost. "Just one on the forehead, and then I'll sleep. Scout's honor, Peach."

You sigh, your eyes darting over his face for a moment. Sure, he's a flirt, but you've never heard of him ever harming a woman. So you walk over to his bedside and lean down.

His forehead is warm, an errant curl tickling your cheek as your lips press against his skin. You feel him shudder under the touch of your lips against him, but then his breathing evens back out as you lean away.

"Alright, Major, you got your kiss. Now sleep." He doesn't miss the way your eyes flicker to his lips and away again, but he does as he's told and rolls over onto his side.

After he falls asleep, the morning is quiet. Your shift at the infirmary ends at 0600 and the nurse who comes to relieve you doesn't seem surprised to see Bucky there. She rolls her eyes and huffs a laugh as you explain how he came to be in a bed in the infirmary.

He's shifting awake as you're leaving, and his blue eyes have just enough time to focus on your retreating form before you're gone. He was a little saddened; he'd been hoping for one more kiss.

Outside, the air is still cool, and the sun is just beginning to peek beyond the horizon. The inky blackness of the sky is lightening to a shade of blue that looks like Major Egan's eyes, and God, you have to stop thinking about him. You really didn't need to get attached.

You pass Buck on the way back to your quarters, and he waves at you with one of his dazzling smiles as he passes. He's wearing his uniform, and you know that means he'll be out in the sky soon enough. You return his smile and wave happily.

Exhaustion sweeps through you as you enter your quarters, and you make quick work of taking your hair pins out and wiping your makeup off. By the time your head hits the pillow, sleep pulls you under. The only things on your mind as you fall asleep are dark curls and blue eyes.

***

Hours later, you blink awake. There's still sunlight flittering in through the curtains over your window, and you sit up to stretch your arms and shoulders. It had to be close to dinnertime, and your stomach rumbles as you slip out of bed and dress in your uniform. Sometimes you missed your dresses back home, but you always felt a sense of pride in your olive drab skirt and jacket. You make sure to swipe on your Victory Red lipstick before you leave.

Placing your cover under your arm, you slip out of your barracks just to come face-to-face with a man. Not just any man, either.

"Peach!" He's still loud, his face wide and warm and friendly. His breath smells like the peppermint gum he's chewing, and his eyes are clear. "Don't think I didn't see you slip out of the room before I could ask for my morning kiss."

He's smiling so brightly that it's like looking at the sun. He's all white teeth and dark curls and blue eyes, his cover tucked under his arm. He's got a single flower in his free hand. You've never seen someone look so devastatingly beautiful.

"Major." You greet him, and it's a good thing you didn't put on blush when refreshing your makeup because your face is hot now. Just from looking at him. "What brings you to the women's barracks?"

"I told you, Peach. Call me Bucky. Or John." His grin never falters. You want to kiss the corner of his mouth, nip at the jawline. He's got so much energy and vitality, and your heart beats so loudly that it's a wonder he can't hear. "Well, I came to offer you this gorgeous flower I found on my way over here and ask if you'd like to dance with me tonight."

You'd forgotten all about the party tonight. A crew completing their 25th mission—you hadn't really planned on attending, but you find yourself very tempted to go. "I'm not really the party type." You admit that, and that dims the light in his eyes a little. You regret the words immediately.

"Just one dance." He steps in closer, taking up more space. He's so tall and broad-shouldered; the man takes up so much room that it makes you feel small in the best way. "For your favorite patient? After all, you did give me a good-night kiss. That's gotta count for something."

Your mind rewinds to that moment, when he was fever-warm and shivering under your lips, when you'd wanted so badly to let him kiss you all over. If you weren't blushing before, you sure are now. "Alright, Bucky," You have to ignore the way he lights up when you use his nickname. "One dance."

#bucky egan x reader #bucky egan #john egan x reader #john bucky egan x reader #mota fic #snow writes.

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inherdaze · 2 months

Text

jungle — kiyoomi sakusa

kiyoomi x f reader

18+ content, pining, slow burn, sakusa wears dog tags mmm, smut, acquaintances to lovers. kind of a historical au? (think 1930s) idk bro it's like all made up. mentions of pregnancy

summary: kiyoomi seeks serenity after coming home from war.

There’s lots of commotion outside. Hollering, cheering, squeals and shouts paired with the sight of lovers reuniting, families coming together, men picking up their children and spinning them around in the air. You watch from the kitchen window as you wipe down the dishes, see some people carelessly pick the flowers from your yard to bunch up and give to wives, children, husbands, the like. Normally, you’d scold them for being so careless and probably offer a pair of garden trimmers so that they wouldn't crush the surrounding flowers, but you let it pass. Everyone is happy. The war is over.

Your mother watches as she stands next to you, handing you over the dishes to dry once she’s finished washing them clean. She looks at you from the corner of her eye, gouging out your reaction before clearing her throat.

“Do you remember Kiyoomi?”

You freeze for a second, plate and rag in hand as you try to think. “Mm. No?”

“The Sakusa family?”

“Oh,” And then you start again, rubbing the plate dry. You don’t really remember the boy, only that your mother was friends with his mother and that apparently the two of you played around as young children. You don't remember the last time you saw him. Probably couldn’t even point him out in a crowd.

“He’s coming home.”

“From the war?”

“Yes.”

“Would you like me to gather some flowers for him? There’s plenty in the backyard, too. None of the crushed ones.”

She sighs before placing the plate she held back into the sink, turning to face you entirely.

She says your name softly. “He’s coming home. Here.”

“Why? For dinner?”

“No– well, yes– but he’ll be staying here. With us.”

You slowly put out the plate face down on the long countertop cloth to let it air dry. “Since when?”

“We’ve been exchanging letters.”

Ah. You had been wondering what that was about. Each time the mail came in, your mother would scurry to get it before you could, holding it to her chest protectively before gently slicing it open in the study, purposely keeping it from you. You thought she had been exchanging letters with some sort of admirer, so to speak. You thought she’d be afraid to tell you she’s moving on after years of your father’s death.

She continues, “His parents passed a while back– they both fell ill while he was away. He just needs somewhere to stay in the meantime so he can get back up on his feet. I'm sure there are plenty of other families that would be more than happy to host a soldier, but I suppose he would feel more comfortable here. I mentioned the garden and the chickens and he said he’d help you out with those. Don’t let him, though.”

“Huh? Why not?”

Your mother lightly swats your arm and gives a quiet scold of your name, “He isn't here to work. He’s here to rest. He’s been through a lot, you know. Just let him be while he’s here.”

You roll your eyes. Your mother can tell that you're not really annoyed.

“He seems very reserved in the letters we exchanged. If he’s formal with you, insist that he don’t be. We are friends of his. Make him feel comfortable, okay?”

You hum and nod. “Okay.”

There’s a pause.

“When will he be here?”

Your mother nearly answers before you've even finished asking.

“Tomorrow.”

You’re an early bird. Even when you don’t want to be, you must. You have to tend to the chickens in the morning, tidy up and make breakfast for your mother before she goes out to the market to sell the eggs.

The morning dew that sits atop the grass kisses at your shins as you trudge towards the coop, face lit by the oncoming sunrise. The sky shifts from deep blue to a lighter blue to purples and pinks until the sun finally reaches the top of the sky.

As you get closer to the coop, you hear the familiar and pesky repetitive clucks, appreciative that the coop is farther out into the yard and not by your window.

You slide the coop door open, stepping to the side as they rush out with curiosity.

“Mornin’ kids,” You start before emptying out their dirty water, tossing it into the grass before turning on the hose to fill up the bin.

You replace the water, give them more food, collect the eggs that are deemed ready, and hang out with them for a good thirty minutes to make sure they’re healthy and roaming around like normal. You sit on the grass, knees to your chest as you absentmindedly say hi to them when they pass by or stare at you.

Once the sun has almost fully risen, you grab the basket of eggs and make your way back into the house, slipping out of your boots before stepping inside.

The morning goes as always; Your mother wakes up, thanks you for handling the chickens, thanks you as you place her breakfast on the table, gathers all the eggs she needs to sell, and kisses your cheek before she heads out to the market.

“Kiyoomi should be here later, once I’m already home. Please make sure the spare bedroom is clean, with fresh sheets. If he happens to arrive early, be nice.”

“God, don’t act like I’m insufferable! I won’t drive him out.”

She smiles knowingly. “I know, my dear.”

She looks like she wants to say more, but swiftly turns on her heel and takes her leave.

The rest of the day is spent cleaning up the spare bedroom to make sure it’s nice and welcoming for when your new guest arrives. You smooth out all the bed linen and wipe down the dressers, making all photo frames and little trinkets look presentable. It doesn't take long for you to set it all up– the bedroom has always been very empty. You wonder how it'll look like when it’s more lived-in, with boots and coats and whatever else he may carry laying around.

You slip into the kitchen and wash your hands, preparing to make lunch. With the curtains on the kitchen window drawn shut, you fail to see the man that climbs up your porch steps, eyes downcast as he raps his knuckles on the door a few times.

You freeze in your spot almost violently. It’s much too early for him to be here, and when you glance at the clock on the wall, you’re convinced that it has to be someone else– perhaps the neighbor?

Drying your hands on the apron tied to your dress, you draw back the kitchen curtain to get a little peep.

You almost squeal as you back away from the window, covering your face with your hands like you’ve just seen something you weren't supposed to– but you had just seen him. He was… big. That’s all you could think.

When you open the front door, the two of you stare at each other, silent.

Yes, he’s big. Broad shoulders, gifted with height, and his chest seems…. inviting in the military uniform he wears. You finally make eye contact with him, scanning over his handsome features, the two little beauty marks that rest atop his eyebrow, the pretty curve of his lips—

“Hello,” He says with an air of formality, and you clutch at the skirt of your dress.

“Hi… hi.”

He stares at you blankly.

“I, ah— come in, Kiyoomi,” You start, standing to the side as he takes off his boots and leaves them by the door, following diligently as you lead him to his room. He doesn’t even spare a glance to look around the house, eyes trained on your back.

“Here,” You say, opening the door to his room. “The bathroom is down the hall, my room is right there– right across, and my mother’s room is the farthest one down the hallway. There’s a, um, study if you'd ever like to read or spend some time in there. Do as you like,” You explain gently, a warm smile on your features. “I was just making lunch. Are you hungry? Would you like some?”

“No thank you,” He says immediately, looking down at you. “Thank you for letting me stay here.”

“Of course! My mother should be here in a few hours. For now, the house is all yours– er, ours, but– well, yeah, yours…” You trail off with embarrassment, looking into his eyes for help, hoping he’ll finish your sentence or laugh it off with you.

He doesn't.

As soon as you back away and start walking back to the kitchen, he shuts the door softly and coupes himself up in there.

You frown to yourself, remembering your mother’s words. He seems very reserved, let him be, he’s been through a lot.

You do just that, careful to not make any noise as you prepare lunch, then sit by yourself at the table to eat. There’s a light clink and clatter of the dishes as you wash them, but you can only hope he doesn’t mind.

Noon turns into night and you’re still alone. You haven’t heard Kiyoomi leave the room or rummage around at all. It’s like he never even arrived.

You’re not surprised when your mother comes home and deems the house empty (besides you being there) and exclaims that the both of you must rush and start working on dinner because Kiyoomi deserves nothing but the best. You feel your skin prickle hot for some reason. She wasn’t wrong, but if Kiyoomi had heard her say it, it sounded like she was one of those old ladies who desperately fawn over younger men. You didn’t want him to get the wrong idea.

You laughed nervously and bumped her hip with yours, quietly telling her that he had already arrived.

She gasps dramatically, hand flying to her heart as she scolds you.

“Why didn’t you invite him out here to sit with you? Has he eaten lunch? Did you offer him lunch? Goodness, my dear, this is no way to host someone. Ask him to step out! Did you show him around the house, at least? Oh, heavens– did you change the sheets?”

Your ears feel terrifyingly warm, knowing very well that your mother was loud enough for Kiyoomi to hear her through closed doors. Just thinking of him overhearing you get scolded made you want to scuffle away and complain in embarrassment to the chickens.

“My apologies, miss.”

The both of you whirl around to see Kiyoomi, who looks absolutely delightful, you think.

His curls are mussed as if he had been sleeping, uniform ditched for a skimpy white undershirt tucked into some slacks, the planes of his chest peeking out and greeting you handsomely. The dog tags that are strung along the chain around his neck glint in the kitchen light, almost like they’re saying Hi. “It’s not her fault, I assure you– I had turned down her offer for lunch, and I just wanted some time to myself after arriving. No hard feelings at all.”

He speaks in such a collected and calm manner, and his face and eyes look empty. He’s good at containing all his emotions.

“Oh,” Your mother breathes out, a wistful smile creeping onto her face. “Oh, my lovely Kiyoomi!” She rushes towards him and cups his face, smushing his cheeks in her hands, beaming up at him. The action makes his eyes widen, hands immediately flying up to push hers away, but he stops himself just in time and lets them fall back to his sides.

“How you’ve grown! My goodness, it’s been ages, my love, please– please sit down, we’ll make some soup, okay? Just rest. Tell us, how have you been? Any good stories?”

She greets him like a mother would, and for a second, you think you see his features relax. Not wanting to get caught ogling at him, you turn and face the cutting board, lining up all the vegetables needed for the soup.

The two talk the entire time, your mother silently leaving the task of cooking up to you. You don’t mind at all, keeping your back to the both of them to hide the look of shyness on your face. Every time Kiyoomi speaks, you feel your hands stutter.

The conversation is mostly your mother gushing over him and how much he’s grown, telling him he’s such a handsome young man, asking him how his trip over here went, and then she asks him if there is a woman in his life. You know that it would be normal for him to feel a little flabbergasted from such a question, but you don’t know why you feel so embarrassed as well.

You figure it’s because if he says he does have a special someone in his life, your mother would turn around and berate you (in front of him) for not being ‘out there’ enough and for not seeing someone already.

To your surprise, he weakly mentions that no, he doesn’t have anyone like that in his life. He quickly excuses it by saying that he had been too busy during the war to worry about such things.

Your mother laughs good-naturedly, flailing her hand around, “Oh, of course. Silly me!”

By the time your mother opens her mouth to tell him that there are plenty of riveting people around town that he may like, you announce with your back still facing them, “Soup’s ready.”

You serve your mother and Kiyoomi, keeping your head down as you approach him and place his bowl on the table. He thanks you in a quiet, rumbly voice that makes you go completely still for a split second.

Conversation dies down as the three of you eat. Your mother has pulled out as much as she can from Kiyoomi. He avoided a lot of questions about the war, about his experiences, about what he saw. You can’t help but wonder.

Your mother interrupts the silence as she subtly turns to face you.

“How are the vegetables doing?”

“Growing,” Is all you respond as you stuff another spoonful of soup into your mouth. She’s grasping at straws to not let the atmosphere turn awkward.

You figure that if Kiyoomi is going to be staying here, may as well be casual, treat him like anyone else (despite the fact that he looks like he came down straight from Heaven).

You shift in your chair, the wood creaking. “Tomorrow, could you buy some more flower seeds from the market? You can pick which. I need to fill in the spaces that were crushed yesterday from all the people.”

Her eyes light up, “Of course, dearie. Thank you for reminding me.”

The two of you talk about mundane things for the rest of dinner, topics you usually discuss. Kiyoomi finds it comforting. Makes him feel more at home.

The next morning, you rise before the sun kisses the sky, as always.

You pull on the short linen clothing you use for working, old stains of mud and grass forever tainting the articles. As quietly as you can, you pad around the house before reaching the back porch, tugging on your work boots before stepping into the fresh morning grass.

Unbeknownst to you, Kiyoomi is also an early riser, a habit that he has cultivated over years of training. He watches you from the backyard’s dutch door, the top half open. He rests his elbows on the bottom half and leans forward, watching and listening as you greet and coo at the chickens like they’re your children. His eyebrows twitch up when he hears you reprimand one– Stop putting grass in the water, Harold!

After you dump out the water, you pick up the water bucket and take it over to the pump, working the water into it. With your back turned to Kiyoomi, you don’t hear as he steps through the grass towards you.

“Good morning,” He greets politely, and you yelp.

Whirling around with the half-full bucket in hand, the water flies out and crashes right into him, soaking his torso and the entirety of his pants.

You drop the bucket.

“Oh my gosh– oh, Kiyoomi— I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry, oh my goodness– I didn’t– I’m so sorry—”

You're petting his torso worriedly, as if your hands will soak up all the water that has been spilled. He knows you have good intentions and are just trying to help somehow get the water to dry, but your touch makes him stiffen.

You’re repeating that you're sorry, and the more that you ramble on, the more he can hear the tremor in your voice as you squeak and swallow and try to push this upcoming embarrassment down. Kiyoomi lifts his hands and places them right on your arms, completely stilling you. “It's fine.”

It comes out clipped, like it's not really fine, but you can’t tell if he's annoyed. His face remains stoic.

“I’m so sorry,” You whisper.

“It's okay. You weren't aware that I was here. I understand.”

You look over him again, the bottom half of his cotton shirt soaked and his pants clinging onto his legs like paint. You’re so embarrassed and ashamed that you can't even find it in yourself to admire him.

“You’ll– you’ll get sick. Let’s go inside,” You plead, stepping away from his touch and gathering your skirt in your hands to run back into the house, hastily kicking off your boots before prying the bottom half of the door open.

He watches you scurry around the house to make him some tea, pouring water into the kettle and sorrowfully letting him know it’s gonna take a few minutes. You advise that he changes but don’t push it on him too much, not wanting to be over controlling.

He disappears into the room and shuts the door, and you plop onto the dining table chair. Resting your head in your hands, you mentally chastise yourself for messing up like this, and on the first day that he's been here, too.

The kettle whistles. You pick yourself up to see Kiyoomi already looking at you, in a pair of clean clothes. Embarrassment crawls up your spine.

“I’m sorry.” You say again, turning to silence the kettle and pour the water into a mug before adding a few loose tea leaves.

“I’ve already forgiven you.”

“I know, I know but– I’m really sorry.”

He only sighs. You take that as a sign he’s frustrated.

“I’m stepping back outside,” You say, “Still have to get stuff done.”

He nods stiffly. You walk with your tail between your legs to the backyard porch, putting on your boots and this time shutting both halves of the dutch door.

You confide and whine to the chickens as you clean up and spread out their food.

Despite the incident, Kiyoomi insists that he help you out in the mornings. He follows you out to the back porch and manages to slip past the threshold before you can shut the bottom half of the dutch door to trap him inside (he can always just open the door and walk by, but you tell him it’s the prospect of trapping him inside that matters the most. His eyebrow twitches at that).

He lingers as you talk to the chickens, which you do quietly now that you know that he’s there. He pretends to look away when you tell Harold good morning.

When you finish saying your greetings to the birds, you tell him to go back inside. This is your job only and he should take this time to rest or get some extra hours of sleep– but he insists. He tells you he can’t sleep for any longer, he’s spent years rising early and getting straight to work and if he were to lay in bed he’d just lay restless.

You know your mother will scold you later, but you offer him some work to do anyway. You tell him to replace the water while you give them fresh food. And he does so gladly, falling into a rhythm with you that, if a stranger looked at the scene, would convince them that he belongs here and always has.

There’s this sort of look of serenity on his face, like he’s content to be doing something rather than staying in the house (which is what your mother has been pressuring him to do).

The rising sun kisses his face, reminding you of his beauty. His skin practically glows and you can’t help but let your eyes linger on the moles on his forehead.

In this kind of lighting, you see faded scars on his hands and arms, earned from hardwork and fighting and war and other things you cannot even imagine. They make him seem gruff (more than he already is) and in a way, scary. But the way he handles the chickens and the land and the water with such a tender touch tells you otherwise. For a brief second, you wonder if he would hold you with such care as well. You shoo the thought away.

Kiyoomi stays with you while you watch over the chickens. He stands while you sit on the grass.

“Talk to them,” You encourage.

He lifts an eyebrow. “And what should I say?”

“Ask them how they are.”

Kiyoomi clears his throat and looks at one of the chickens, “My… My dear Harold,” He starts, “I hope you are in good health.”

You laugh, “So formal, Sakusa.”

He finds himself humming. Humming. Humming in amusement.

When you're done with the chickens, you tell him he can go back inside and relax while you check up on all the vegetables, but he tells you he wants to help with that too.

You untie your apron and start checking on and picking the ripe vegetables, bundling them in the cloth. Kiyoomi, truthfully, seems a little lost as he handles pulling out the vegetables and leafy greens with a sort of hesitance as if he’s afraid to hurt them. You scoot over closer to him and offer some help.

“They won’t cry in agony, Kiyoomi.”

“I–” He starts, embarrassed. “You mistake me.”

“How so?”

He doesn’t answer, runs out of excuses. Suddenly Kiyoomi thinks the sun feels warmer when your hands brush over his own to guide him, encouraging him to pluck at the vegetables. He gets the hang of it, bundling up all the produce in your apron before the two of you make your way back inside.

When your mother sees the both of you step in, kicking off your boots and hands stained with dirt, she tsks at you.

“I specifically told you not to ask for any help.”

Embarrassment blooms in the depths of your chest. Getting scolded in front of Kiyoomi will be the death of you. You want to defend yourself but you don’t want to throw him under the bus, either. You hold the bundle of vegetables and greens closer to your chest, almost protectively.

“She did no such thing,” Kiyoomi interjects before your mother can continue. He stands tall, seems bigger, voice collected but strong enough to cause the both of you to jump. It’s been ages since you and your mother have been in the presence of someone as powerful as Kiyoomi.

He visibly slackens, clears his throat. “She didn’t ask for my help– told me to go inside, actually. I took it upon myself to help her.”

“Oh,” Your mother breathes out, tone suddenly sweet and forgiving. “I see.”

The silence that rests between the three of you could pierce your ears. You skitter into the kitchen to wash all that you’ve collected and leave your mom and Kiyoomi alone. In a matter of seconds, she’s already cooing at him and telling him that there’s no need for him to be working, it’s fine if he wants to rest inside, there’s plenty of time for him to spend his days off. He’s silent in response.

After you make breakfast and your mother leaves for the market, you gather all the dishes and make a beeline for the sink, pouring hot water over the dishes to scrub them clean.

Kiyoomi follows up behind you, rolling up the sleeves of his cotton shirt, bunching it up right above his elbows. You watch as he leans forward to grab a washcloth, swallowing when you see his dog tags swing low as he dips down. They clink back onto his chest when he stands upright.

“Thank you,” He says suddenly, eyes focused on the plate in his hands as he wipes it in a circular motion.

“What for? I should be the one thanking you, Kiyoomi. You defended me in front of my mother.”

He takes a second to formulate what he wants to say. “I must thank you for letting me work with you. I know your mother has good intentions, and I appreciate that she insists I rest.”

You tilt your head up at him, silently asking if he will continue.

Kiyoomi, unbeknownst to you, is facing an internal battle with himself. Years of being in war and surrounded by men who believe vulnerability is weakness often leaves him staying quiet in moments where he wishes to speak. He mulls over what he wants to say again, wondering if you’d laugh him off and tell him to not be silly. But he knows that you sense something is up, your eyes taking on a glimmer of understanding and kindness before you look down at your plate. “I won’t force it out of you, Kiyoomi.”

He looks at you affectionately, but you miss it as you stack the plate on the counter.

“Well, since you’re practically pleading me to share my thoughts, I’ll tell you.”

That makes you laugh. You laugh a gentle little laugh, and Kiyoomi has to turn back and face the dishes so that he doesn’t lose his thoughts.

“Your mother, I… I know she means no harm. I know that she may believe that I need rest and time and some sort of recuperation period. I don’t mean to be rude, but she… it feels as if she is doing worse than good, for me.”

You nearly freeze on the spot, worried about what he’ll say next. You’re scared that you and your mother have ruined his whole stay.

Kiyoomi breathes out your name, “I assure you that I am not a wounded dog that must be left alone to rest and sleep the pain away. I want to live a normal life, now. I’ve faced enough estrangement in the war. Please, allow me to work and live with you just as anyone else would.”

It’s a simple, simple request. A simple request that would have anyone cheering and clapping and showing him to the damaged flowers in the front yard and putting him right to work. It’s a simple request that makes your heart clench and twist in the caverns of your chest, knowing that he wants to live a life of normality and serenity. Knowing that he has opened up to you about being shunned away. It makes you feel trusted, and in a way, sought out.

You’re silent for a beat too long and Kiyoomi looks like he wants to scrub away all the words he just said with the way he resumes at washing his plate. As you set another one to dry, you tell him calmly, to prevent the feeling of pity arising in the air, “Of course, Kiyoomi.”

The corners of his lips twitch up when you tell him the bushes out front need to be trimmed.

You tell your mother of Kiyoomi’s request that same night, and she scoffs and frowns and throws a little fit before she caves. She initially insists that you only give him light work, but eats up her words at the glower you throw her way.

He helps you trim the bushes, the weeds, helps you with the vegetables and the chickens and watches eagerly as you prepare food so that he can take on that task later on.

You stir the soup around in the pot, sprinkling in some herbs and seasonings to add some more flavor. He asks you how much you use, you tell him you just know in your heart when to stop. When the kitchen falls quiet, you pick on him and teasingly ask, And how should you cook? And he answers, suppressing a laugh and an eye roll, With love.

You peer down into the pot.

“Okay. Kiyoomi, I am trusting you to deem it ready. Have a taste. The fate of this dinner falls on you.”

He bites his cheek at your dramatics.

You bring the ladle up to his lips and Kiyoomi has to lean forward a little to meet you halfway. You press the spoon to his lips and he lets the liquid in, his eyes locked on yours as he takes a sip. You feel small in some invigorating, exciting way.

He pulls away to think about the taste. “A little more rosemary.”

You eye him carefully but take his word, dipping the ladle back into the pot and sprinkling in a few more leaves. After a few stirs, you scoop the liquid back into the spoon and hold it up to him again.

He leans forward without being told, almost eager to have you press it to his mouth. Again, he keeps his eyes trained on your face as he has a taste.

When you pull the ladle away, he remains close to you, face inches away from your own.

Your fingers twitch.

“Yes,” He breathes out, your lashes flutter. “It’s ready. Made with love.”

You can’t tell if your mind is playing tricks on you, but he seems to be inching closer and closer, your grip tightening on the end of the ladle as you start freezing up, debating whether or not to shut your eyes.

You watch as his pretty eyes close, and with your heart leaping and palms sweating around the ladle from nervousness and the heat that remains in the small space between you two, you let your eyes slip shut.

You know it– you know it, it’s coming, his lips right against yours, you think you can already taste him—

“I’ve arrived early!”

The both of you jump backwards and the ladle collides with the floor.

“S-Sorry,” You whisper to Kiyoomi, picking up the ladle and tossing it in the sink before grabbing a different one off the kitchen rack. His shoulders sag and you think you hear him sigh, but he composes himself quickly as your mother makes her way into the kitchen.

She sees the two of you in front of the soup pot and beams, missing how stiff the both of you look and how you’re wiping your sweaty hands on your apron.

“Teaching Kiyoomi how to cook? Good! Good good, more men should partake in household chores. I cannot wait to taste how Kiyoomi’s soup comes out, should he cook for us soon.”

He nods curtly, watching as you dip the new ladle into the liquid. You look shaken up, movements jagged and nervous, and he fears he’s done something terribly wrong.

“Did you teach him the most fundamental lesson in cooking, dearie?”

At that, a smile slips onto your face.

“Yes. Cook with love.”

When the three of you eat dinner together, Kiyoomi mulls over the fact that it was made with love. Your love. He wants to eat so much that he feels full of your affections. He wants so much of it that he cannot help but decline anyone else who offers food, because he’ll be full of your love.

You two never bring up the almost-kiss. Kiyoomi is scared that he’s pushed a boundary and you’re scared that you misread the situation– so the two of you remain silent and try to fall back into the familiar pattern of days, the rhythm you two share.

The tension is nearly unbearable when the two of you are less than two feet apart. It almost hurts. It hurts Kiyoomi to look at you so longingly and you never notice. It hurts you when you try to scoot a little closer and all he does is move away. You think it's because he's disgusted with you. He just wants you to feel comfortable.

Days pass and the both of you pack the incident up and back away into the furthest crevice in your minds. Everything seems alright again– you both talk to the chickens, trim the flowers and cook dinner by each other's side.

You’re preparing to cook and pull your apron off the hook rack that’s nailed right by the kitchen entrance. Kiyoomi watches as you slip it on and watches when you huff in frustration as you try to reach behind yourself and tie it off. Your arms start getting sore from the awkward position they've been in, the apron straps unraveling again and again in protest. You’re about to let the damn thing flail loose until you hear Kiyoomi clear his throat behind you.

“Let me help.”

Your cheeks burn.

He delicately takes the straps into his hands, making the base knot against your back and pulling it. “Is that good?”

It’s a little loose.

“Tighter, please.”

He pulls. It’s almost like you’re drawn backward, nearly knocking into his chest. He starts tying up a little bow and you feel the brush of his fingers against the small of your back, shivers running up your spine and shoulders. You have to hold yourself back from twitching.

“There,” He says, taking a step back and admiring his handiwork. He keeps his eyes trained on the bow, tries to hold himself back from drinking in your entire figure.

It’s oddly domestic, intimate. It has you drifting off in thought, has you confirming all your wonders about his touch that had crowded your mind ever since that day when you saw him pull out the vegetables. He is gentle. You can only hope that the softness of his touch is a testament to his feelings (more specifically, his feelings about you).

You cough. You make it awkward. You thank him in a quiet, choked up voice before gathering all the pots needed for dinner before scrambling away to start on the food. Kiyoomi thinks he made you uneasy and this time, stands farther away from you when you show him how to prepare the food. Your heart aches at the same time as his. Both of you are back to square one.

The following days are painfully repetitive. It’s a cycle of the two of you falling back into place, and then your hands brush his, or you catch him staring, or you lean in too close to him, and then the both of you are creating more distance and relapsing into silence and copious amounts of space.

On this particular night, the two of you are sitting far apart, him on the rocking chair with an open book, and you on the other side of the living room, pressed into the far corner of the couch, embroidery hoop in hand.

You could trick yourself into thinking that there’s a sense of peace that blankets the two of you, a scene of quiet comfort and domesticity before there’s a dull knock on the door.

You both freeze. You’re the first one to get up to go check, and Kiyoomi is a little too late in his reaction as he tries to tell you that he’ll get it, a weird sense of protectiveness overcoming him.

The door is already open and the air is knocked out of your lungs.

Before you stands a tall, handsome man, brown hair slightly disheveled, a smile growing as he looks down at you. He is very attractive. But not as charming as Kiyoomi, a voice in your head whispers.

“Well, well, well,” He starts, leaning onto the door frame. “Didn’t know Omi was staying with a pretty little lady.”

“Miya,” You hear from behind you, nearly jumping as your skin burns hot knowing there are two striking men trapping you.

“Ah! My old friend!” The man cheers, his eyes searching yours for approval to step inside. Without any hesitation, you grant him access, slowly backpedaling into Kiyoomi’s chest with a squeak before he moves out of the way, the two of you letting the man inside (much to Kiyoomi’s dismay).

“Miya,” Kiyoomi starts again, gaze hardened. “What are you doing here?”

“Don’t be like that, my good friend,” The man, Miya, repeats. “Hurts when you address me by last name.”

Kiyomi doesn’t retort. He won’t play into the man’s tricks of beating around the bush.

Finally, he fesses up.

“Bo and Shoyo and I are going to meet up at the pub in a bit, thought you’d like to come along.”

You see Kiyoomi make a face.

“I have suffered enough from your presence over the last few years. Please do not try to rope me back into your antics.”

“Omi!” The grown man whines, face falling before he remembers that you’re standing there. Slowly, his face shifts into a wicked smile, and Kiyoomi’s frown deepens.

“Ah ah ah,” He starts, dipping down and leaning in closer as if he’s examining you. “I know why you’re so adamant about staying. Find yourself a pretty little wife?”

The both of you choke.

You’re about to protest, but Kiyoomi is pushing Miya out the door, effectively letting you hide behind the broad expanse of his back, but you peek out from behind him to see what’s happening.

“If I– If I go with you this time, will you swear to not come back?”

“Don’t be like that, Omi.”

“Miya.”

“Just say Atsumu! And fine! I won’t visit after this. Won’t steal your pretty lady away.”

“You are unbearable.”

Your cheeks feel hot as Kiyoomi turns around to face you, face irritated.

“I’ll be on my way. I should be back before it gets too dark out. Please stay safe.”

You give him a meek goodbye as you watch him pull his coat from the rack next to the door and slide it on, watch closely as he threads his arms through the sleeves, watch as the article fits snugly against his form, watch as he again proves that he is a sight for sore eyes.

After you shut and lock the door, you rush to the kitchen window to get a peek at the both of them descending the porch stairs, watch as Atsumu laughs and hangs close to Kiyoomi as the latter tries again and again to maintain the space between them and throws unimpressed looks his way.

When your mother comes home, you tell her Kiyoomi went out with his friends. She smiles and thanks the heavens, happy that he’s finally getting out there. She tells you she hopes he finds someone he may like while he’s out.

You only hum in response.

Hours pass and Kiyoomi is still out. You and your mother have already eaten dinner and she’s already fast asleep. You’re already in your nightgown and tired of waiting around.

You step outside and stand by the chicken coop. You watch them sleep and some of them scatter around and you talk to them as if you’re sending wishes to the universe. Tell them you hope Kiyoomi is okay. Tell them you hope he gets home safe.

As soon as you’re stepping back inside the house, there are drunken laughs and weak knocks at the front door. Not wanting to seem too excited, you take a few deep breaths to pass time before you hear that Miya boy holler out a muffled Pretty lady, come and get him! Which is nearly cut off by a familiar groan. Kiyoomi throws some swear words around.

You open the door and find that the two of them were using it as support as they nearly fall into you. Atsumu catches you before you can trip on your own feet and fall backward.

“Hi,” He breathes out into your face, and you have to hold back from scrunching your nose. He smells of liquor but his steady arms keep you rooted in place, his physique nearly swallowing you whole.

“Hello,” You start, hyper aware of how you look and if you have any blemishes on your face and how close the two of you are, but before you can think of anything else to find a flaw in, Atsumu is pulled back by Kiyoomi.

“Stop terrorizing my host,” Kiyoomi hiccups out, trying his hardest to remain stern and imposing, but his friend only laughs brightly.

Atsumu slurs out your name, “You must know,” He starts, leaning his arm on the door frame, trying to pose coolly. “Omi mentioned you an awful lot tonight. Think he might have taken a—”

“Miya.”

“Yes, my most beloved Omi,” Atsumu professes, cheeks pink and dewy from all the alcohol. “I’ll leave you two be.”

He clumsily spins on his heel, trips on his way down the steps, and crushes another flower bush.

Your eyes flash with pain and Kiyoomi shuts the door before you can see Atsumu trip into anything else. He’s rather good at composing himself, straightening his face and posture as he looks at you.

“Would you like some dinner?”

“Yes, please.”

You find out soon that Kiyoomi is mouthy when he’s drunk. After you reheat what was left over from dinner and slide the plate towards him, he asks that you sit down with him. His face flashes with disappointment when you sit across from him instead of right by his side.

In his drunken state, he spills all that he’s kept inside without you even needing to probe. Tells you he plans to get going soon, has his eye on a place, tells you he's ready to move on and start life from scratch. He tells you he's tired of you avoiding him like the plague, but there's no malice behind his voice– only pure disappointment, like he’s sulking. At that, you perk up and lean forward, guiltily trying to fish some more out of him.

“Hate that you stay so far away,” He grumbles before stuffing his fork in his mouth. “Always jumping and skittering around me like I’m, I’m– frightening. Hate that you think I’m scary.”

He hates that you keep your distance, hates that you've deemed him untouchable, hates that you see him as some warlord man who will crush you beneath the soles of his shoes if you utter something incorrectly.

“Miya,” He suddenly blurts, and for a second you think he thinks you’re the man that just left.

“Miya told me to confess to you.”

Your blood runs cold. Confess…?

Kiyoomi is quiet after that, finishing up his food with sad eyes. He wants more and more and more, any drop of your love that he can get, he will take it.

You don't ask if he means confessing by telling you all that he hates or if he means confessing something else. Something else that has your stomach stirring, heart doing odd twists as your fist the skirt of your dress. It's hard to think about it when he's right in front of you and slurring his words and clumsily pushing his plate away. It's something you must think about later, in the solace of your own room.

When he’s done, you help him shrug off his coat, watch as the expanse of his back reveals himself to you. You guide him to his room, expecting him to close the door as soon as he steps in again, but this time, he turns to face you and leans on the frame. He swallows as he looks over you, eyes droopy and tired, and he looks so vulnerable in this light. He’s loosened up, mouth parted only slightly as he lets his eyes wander where he usually doesn't when sober, lets his mind think what he usually holds back on any other day.

He breathes out your name. You look up at him curiously.

“I wish you could come with me.”

You stiffen. You gently place your hands on his chest and push him back into his room slowly– your touch makes him smile.

“Goodnight, Kiyoomi,” is all you say.

“Goodnight, angel.”

Just like the almost-kiss, neither of you bring up what Kiyoomi said that night. It's an elephant in the room– at least, to you. You’re not sure if Kiyoomi even remembers what he said. (He does).

The two of you delve into another game of dancing around each other in circles, putting on a show that makes it seem like everything's alright and that your hearts don’t ache. Neither of you are aware that when night falls and you're in your respective rooms, the both of you dwell and worry about what you've said and done.

As of late, Kiyoomi hasn't been around. He still helps you with his morning tasks, but after breakfast, he slips out of the house and tells you he will be searching around town for work with his friend Miya. You know that he doesn't owe you any explanations, but some part of you appreciates it.

(Kiyoomi knows this, too. He wants you to know he isn't seeking anyone else out there).

Day in and day out, he's around less and less. You start to think that Kiyoomi is now trying to get rid of his feelings ever since you didn't exactly reciprocate what he said that night, when he was drunk.

One heartbreaking evening, Kiyoomi announces that he’ll be leaving soon over dinner. Your mother has a big smile on her face as she congratulates him and cups his face and cries on and on about how proud she is and that he deserves all the best. You nod along to everything that she says, but your vision blurs and all the twines of your fork blend together and it’s hard to see what you’re eating. It's even harder to hold back your sniffles as she starts asking him where he’ll move and where he’ll be working and if he's met anyone. She's always on his back about that last one. It makes your heart feel bitter and heavy.

The next morning, your mother insists that she go out to the market and get Kiyoomi some farewell gifts. He reassures her that she doesn't really have to, tries to convince her to stay as she's already putting on her coat, and then she's walking out the door.

Kiyoomi asks if you could help him tidy up before he leaves. It’s more of a statement than a question, so you oblige.

You help him take off his sheets and load them into a basket to wash later. You wipe down the dresser and the desk, help sweep the floors, help him fold his clothing neatly so that his suitcase shuts securely.

When everything's done, you wipe your hands nervously on your apron and give him a curt nod, turning to leave the room.

“Stay,” He suddenly blurts, fists clenching at his sides. “I have to tell you something before I go.”

And so you turn and face him, letting your hands fall to your sides. He steps closer to you.

“Before I go,” He starts, eyes scanning your face for any emotion, but he gets nothing. You look numb.

“I don’t expect anything from you in return, but I must tell you, or else I don’t think I can live with myself. You,” He hesitates, feeling like he instead wants to turn away and save it for another day.

The curious glimmer in your eye pulls him back in.

“You have captured my heart,” Kiyoomi says breathlessly, “The entirety of my soul. I have no regrets in opening myself up to you, in letting you in, and I can say that you have made me a better man. I want to be vulnerable with you as I am now, time and time again. I want us to be one, but to be our own all at once.”

His eyes search yours frantically, “I love you.”

Your mouth drops open.

Hands shaky, you try smoothing out your dress and formulating a response, the right response, one that tells him you feel the same.

Kiyoomi begins to lean away, taking a step back, face calm. “As I’ve said, I don’t expect anything from you in return. You can leave, if you wish.”

You stay rooted still.

“Kiyoomi,” You finally squeak, voice cracking like you're on the verge of tears. The tone of it makes him stand up a little straighter, like he's worried about what he's done, but then you're beckoning him forward with your hand.

He comes in closer, approaching you like you’re injured- gentle and calm like he mustn't startle you any further. You try to lean into him, try to pull him closer, hands wrapping around his shirt and bringing him towards yourself, voice shaky as you manage to get out, “And I you.”

It’s all he needs. It’s all he needs before he’s dipping down, lips slotting against your own as you sigh out wantonly. Days and weeks and months of pent up feelings and unspoken words all pour out in one kiss, a kiss that has you stumbling backward and grasping at his shirt, his hands roaming down your back and pulling you into him, closer and closer and closer, like he is going to fuse the two of you together.

(He wants to).

It isn’t long until you find yourself pressed into his bed, both of your clothes thrown into some corner of the room, underwear torn off as he hovers above you, licking into your mouth and grinding against your cunt.

“Kiyoomi,” You whimper once he pulls away. “Please.”

He dips down again to kiss and nip at your chest, the metal of his tags stinging your skin and giving you shivers. Kiyoomi hums into your shoulder, licks a stripe up your neck before lifting himself off the bed, planting his hands on your hips. He drags you closer to him, lifting you up as he drags his cock over your warmth.

“Such a pretty little cunt,” he groans as he slips in, eyes falling shut when you immediately flutter around him. Kiyoomi almost falters, almost curls in on himself and leans atop of you again before he collects himself and starts dragging his cock in and out, hissing at the way you clamp down on him.

It’s a build up, Kiyoomi starting gentle and slow until you’re bucking up your hips and whining at him to go faster, till the only thing you can get out is a weak string of please please please.

Kiyoomi cages you beneath him again as he starts drilling into you, broken cries slipping past your lips as your hands race up and down his back, leaving light scratches that make him moan so prettily right by your ear.

He brings his hands to your thighs, pushing them up and trapping them against your chest and your eyes roll back, body falling pliant to him. He’s so close, all up in your face and humming about how wet you are for him, how fucking good you feel, how you’re made for me, doll, all for me.

His breath fans your face as he thrusts into you desperately, making the bed shake. The tags on his chain bump into your chin, clinking softly like little chimes and bringing you back time and time again as your mind spirals under the feeling of him pounding into you. Kiyoomi grunts and lifts himself up for the fastest second, taking the tags in hand and ripping the chain off his neck, metal grazing the wood floor as it slides away. His irritation with it makes you want to laugh, but the sound gets caught in your throat as his cock hits the sweetest spot in you, making your toes curl as you cry out his name.

He watches you as your hands sneak down, nimble fingers spreading apart your folds to try and get a good look at his length sliding in and out of you. Kiyoomi looks down, watches the spot where the two of you meet, watches as his dick comes out covered in slick before pushing himself back in.

“Fuck, fuck, angel, you’re so– so good, such a good girl for me.”

Your head bobbles up and down in a nod, weakly whimpering out his name, “I want to cum, please let me– let me cum all over you, Kiyoomi!”

He shudders, hand coming up to grab at your jaw. “Look at me. Look at me when you cum.”

You sob out pathetically, legs shaking and twitching as you tighten around him, gushing for what seems like hours until you fall limp, tears invading your vision. Kiyoomi murmurs praises into your cheek before planting both hands on your hips again, using you to reach his high, and you let him, let yourself be his little doll.

You feel his warm seed trickle into you, stomach fluttering at the sensation before he collapses on top of you.

Kiyoomi nestles his face into your chest for a few minutes before rolling onto his side, cupping your cheek with his big hand. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

You nodded, trying to scoot in closer to him, albeit weakly.

“I love you, Kiyoomi.”

He smiles. He’s beautiful, you think. He opens his mouth to return the affection, your hand coming up to brush his curls away, but there’s a telltale sound at the door that alarms the both of you.

In an instant, you two are up, laughing and tripping over your own feet, Kiyoomi hustling into his slacks as you awkwardly slide your dress back on, thumping into the footboard of the bed as your mother chirps out like a bird, “I’m home!”

“Your mother,” Kiyoomi says in a hushed tone, leaning close to you as he buttons up his shirt, “Always has to go and interrupt us.”

You smile up at him cheekily, and he catches the mischievousness in your eyes.

“Just means that you must take me with you, I presume?”

You step out into the grass of the backyard, the sun already hanging in the sky since you’re a little bit late to your task. Nonetheless, you head straight towards the chicken coop and unfasten the doors, the chickens pouring out and clucking around obnoxiously, as they always have. The rest is muscle memory– throw out the old water, replace it, add in fresh food, sit with the chickens. The familiarity of it all soothes you– not that you need soothing. You simply feel in touch with your roots again.

“Good morning, Harold.” You jeer at one particular chicken, who eyes you warily. You laugh. “Now don’t be jealous, I’ll always come back to check on you.”

He gives an approving cluck.

You gather yourself and get back up, slipping off your boots on the back porch. As you approach the dutch door, you see someone already leaning onto the bottom half of it, a little bouquet in hand.

“He told me to give this to you,” Your mother swoons, holding out the bundle of flowers to you. A laugh bubbles at your lips as you observe the flowers, holding the stems together, “Aren’t these from the front yard? Such a romantic,” You joke, rolling your eyes as you make your way inside. You tuck the flowers into one of your mother’s vases to keep them safe.

“I’ll get started on breakfast,” You call out, despite it already being later in the day and, technically, lunch time would be rolling around.

“Oh no no,” You mother gasps, a sound that you had become all too familiar with when Kiyoomi was around, when she’d clutch her chest in shock.

“You rest, my dear, I’ll start working on the food.”

“Mother,” You press, “You need to go rest. That’s the exact reason why we came over here!”

“Nonsense!” She chimes, pushing you down to sit at the dining table as she pads over to the kitchen. You remain still for a few moments to appease her, but then the front door creaks open and you’re on your feet immediately.

“Hi lover,” You say almost bashfully as Kiyoomi approaches you, wiping the sweat off his forehead as he sinks down to kiss your forehead, your chin, your lips.

“Hi, my little doll,” he mutters against you before pulling away. “Did you like the flowers I got you?”

You laugh, observing the green and brown stains on his white undershirt, evidence of his hard work in the front yard. “I shouldn’t be praising a thief, seeing as you took my mother’s flowers right from her yard.”

“Oh?” He suddenly challenges, “I think this thief deserves a little praise, seeing as I successfully made your heart mine.”

You can’t help but scoff, tongue poking at your cheek with how embarrassing he is, how corny he’s become now that he’s in love.

Your mother scurries back in with two plates in hand, telling you both to Sit, sit! like dogs, and Kiyoomi looks at you with a knowing smile on his face. Always interrupting things.

As the three of you start eating, your mother points her fork accusingly at you.

“And you, my sweet girl, better eat up. You need more nutrients for when a baby is on the way.”

You choke. Kiyoomi smiles into his cup as he takes a sip.

“We’re not expecting,” You scold, stabbing your fork into your food. “You can’t just say things like that, mother—”

“How come? You never know! With the two of you in that new big home, you’ll surely want to fill in some space. You’re young! There’s no shame!”

“You’re the one who may as well fill up the space, visiting nearly every day!”

“Oh honey, I’m just excited for you—”

The bickering is all in good fun, Kiyoomi knows. He takes your hand into his underneath the table, finger brushing against the golden band that encompasses your own.

Yes, he thinks to himself, heart swelling. Perhaps it’s time to start filling up the space.

#sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #kiyoomi x reader #sakusa smut #sakusa kiyoomi smut #hq x reader #hq smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #sakusa fluff

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urfavleo777 · 5 months

Text

warnings: oral (f&m receiving), mommy kink, smut, smut, smut.

in which colby is afraid of thunderstorms and y/n is trying her best to help him relieve stress.

With a quiet sigh, you walked away from the desk where you had spent the last two hours, wasting the evening to watch a movie with the love of your life.

As you pulled up your chair and turned on your heel, your attention was caught by Colby with his head on the pillow. With his eyes closed and his raven hair creating a mess on his head, he had probably drifted off to sleep long ago. He was breathing steadily, and his presence didn't draw any attention to him at all. You smiled, staring at the image of the man you loved, and after a while you felt sorry. You promised him that you would spend the evening together, but you were more absorbed in your studies than you expected.

You took an empty spot on the bed and moved closer to him as quietly as possible so as not to wake him from his sleep. You carefully examined the features of his perfectly sculpted face. A pair of ocean eyes, a sharp and pointed noise, a strong and defined jaw, and carnation pink lips-those were the words that could describe him. From a third-person point of view, you could be perceived as a damn stalker. You refrained from kissing his slightly parted lips. Instead, you lifted your hand and caressed his face gently before running it through his hair.

The rain gently bounced onto the rooftop and the wind gently swayed the trees surrounding your home, creating some sort of a whistle sound as you laid in Colby's arms. Though you enjoyed the sounds of the storm outside, you knew it would only be a matter of time before your boy would wake up from the noise he always feared.

You rolled over towards your boyfriend and laid your head on his chest and threw your leg across his waist. You felt him run his hand up your thigh and stop right below your butt.

Colby shifted, taking a deep breath. You smiled at the sight of his dreamy, half-sleep face. Maybe he still felt like he was in a dream.

You removed your hand from his hair. A small look of dissatisfaction crossed his face. You heard the wind howling outside and the loud crack of thunder.

"Y/n?" He called out, as the wind got louder. "Don't stop, please." He purred with eyes closed, his voice more adorable than ever.

"Oh, I didn't mean to wake you up." You whispered, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead.

"It's okay," he mumbled as he turned to face you. "I missed you."

"Baby, I was right there." You laughed, going back to stroking his hair, which relieved his stress from loud sounds outside.

"I know, but you were busy studying. I'm sorry I fell asleep. I hate storms so much." His voice was deeper than normal, and God, it sounded so good on him. You placed a kiss on his bare chest and he rolled over so he was on top of you.

Another sound of thunder, louder than usual, made Colby flinch. He immediately buried his head in your neck and you grabbed his waist, bringing him as close to you as possible.

"My poor little boy is afraid of thunderstorms. Need someone to relax?"

"Yes, you." He nodded, continuing to caress you.

His kisses traveled down to your jawline where he placed kisses along it. His hands found their way to the bottom of your nightgown. Well, it wasn't really yours, more like his shirt that you now had to wear. You know he loves seeing you in his shirts, so you wear them to bed all the time.

He scrunched up the fabric until it reached right below your bare breasts. He placed lazy open mouth kisses along your stomach until he reached the top of your underwear. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your underwear and pulled them down your legs. "I've barely touched you and you're already so wet" he said smirking at you. His voice was still pretty deep and groggy and you loved it. "You like that?" you asked, and he nodded hazily. "Good, 'm gonna fuck your mouth with it, love".

He kissed the inside of your thighs, making you moan. He took that as a cue and licked all the way to the tip. He started swirling his tongue around your clit, making you moan. You reached down and ran your fingers through his hair. He moved down and inserted his tongue into your entrance.

You weren't usually a vocal person, but it had been so long since you and Colby had done something together and it felt so good. He removed his tongue but quickly replaced it with his fingers and began to slide your tongue in and out. He moved up and pressed his lips against yours.

"What do you need me to do, hm?" you asked, tilting your head slightly. He began to kiss you again and you could feel his hard clothed member press against your bare thigh.

"Need you t'fuck me, mommy," Colby said obediently, sniffling as he looked back at you from his position. His pretty face was tear streaked, and his eyes were shiny with tears as he cried for you. "I've been so good, please," he begged shamelessly, his lip quivering. Colby's mind was focused solely on you, how pretty you were, how your touch felt.

He had wanted you for so long. And now he had you.

"On your back," you demanded softly, toppling him onto the broad back, "I want to taste you."

"If you do that, I’m afraid I won’t last." His breathing was coming out in ragged pants as you slid between his spread thighs. Colby watched with rapt attention, enjoying how your breasts swayed as you moved to lay flat on your belly.

"That’s alright," you assured, tongue darting out to lap at the seam beneath the head. And he moaned, such glorious music cutting straight to your core. What a symphony every groan and whimper was, even as you continued to tease with short licks and kisses. "I want you to come undone in my mouth."

"Get on with it, please." His hips thrust upwards, tip pressing past the barrier of your lips before you complied with his wishes. Hollowing your cheeks, you sank upon all that could be fit into your mouth as a warm fist enveloped the rest. His heady musk invaded your senses, cock twitching on your tongue, practically begging you to move. "Oh, fuck."

Colby’s deep bellow had been enough to spur you into a fervor, bobbing hungrily as his back arched off the mattress. Lithe fingers knotted in your hair, holding you still as he began to frantically fuck your throat. Pumping, striving, chasing that release while he imagined you bouncing atop him. He felt like he was on fire.

"I love you," he muttered between ragged breathing as you struggled to breathe out of your nose. "I love you so much, mommy."

Then the dam broke as he came down your throat, twitching and spasming until he was still against your tongue. Swallowing all of the seed that was earned, you broke away and began to clean his softening length before snaking up to curl upon that delightfully broad chest. "Good boy."

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yanderecrazysie · 3 months

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Twisted Zoo: Chapter Two

This is based on the stories of a keeper reader with the octotrio by @ashensgrotto and @merakiui .

Also @twistedcece @cenatour @ursinaw @xiaopleasecomehome @bearshideout @koebishrimpuwu @v-sh @help-whatdoimakemyusername @secret-potion @magmdnv @sunshine-for-serotonin @mel-star636 and @thisisafish123 wanted to be tagged! Let me know if anyone else wants to be tagged for future chapters. If you no longer want to be tagged, please tell me! (I hope the tags worked, I'm new to having a tag list!)

Summary: You’re a brand new zookeeper at The Halfling Zoo- a place where half-animals live in captivity. Your job is simple- feed them and study them. Your main worry is that one of the more dangerous halflings might kill you.

Unfortunately, that may become the least of your worries.

Previous chapter: Chapter One

Next chapter: Chapter Three

WARNINGS: none for now

Note: All characters are aged up, since there will be mature themes in future parts.

Also, I can’t promise I’ll finish this. I suck at finishing stories.

Note 2: I’m in love with Ruggie, so I accidentally made half of this chapter about him. Oops.

—----------------------------------

You decided that the best course of action would be watching from afar. The hyenas were afraid of you, the king of the lions didn’t like you, and the wolves were wary of you. All in all, not the greatest situation.

You didn’t know what you expected. Did you really think they would all love you from day one? They were half-animals, after all. They had the instincts of wild animals, not domesticated pets.

Still, you were determined to make them like you. The hyenas would probably be easiest, once they warmed up to you. The wolves would probably get used to you eventually. The lions- well, that was a tricky situation. They all followed Leona, so you’d have to win him over before you could win over the entire pride, and that would not be easy.

You grabbed your journal and pen from your locker and walked to the savannah exhibit’s door. This time, you had brought a water bottle with you, prepared for the upcoming heat you would have to face. You had also bought binoculars from one of the vendors, knowing you would need it if you were going to keep some space between you and the halflings.

You entered the exhibit, wincing at the heat that hit your skin. You scanned the dry land for the hyenas and found them lounging around the watering hole, talking amongst themselves. You stepped behind a large rock and leaned over it, raising your binoculars to your eyes.

It was impossible to hear what they were saying, but they seemed to laugh a lot. You really wished you knew what they were saying, but if you approached them, they would probably stop their conversation and focus on getting away from you.

Day 1

HYENAS

There are seven hyenas and they all seem to be close to each other, as they stick together in a group. Their conversations seem to be humorous, as they are often laughing. This could be from their hyena half, as hyenas are known for their “laugh”.

Each of the halflings are easily differentiated by their hyena ears and tail. They all seem to be around 5’5, but even the tallest ones do not hit 6 feet.

They are relaxed until a female approaches them. In this case, all seven hyenas are male, so the problem starts when a female keeper tries to feed them or study them up close. They suddenly become extremely wary or even frightened and are very hesitant to come anywhere near a female keeper.

The best way to calm them down, I believe, is to show them that you are not aggressive like female hyena halflings are. It doesn’t get rid of their fear, but it definitely helps.

You peered through your binoculars and watched the six hyenas as they drank from the watering hole- most of them scooping water into their palms and drinking from their hands, while others put their head down to drink directly from the source.

Wait- six hyenas? Weren’t there seven?

You felt a hot breath on the back of your neck and you spun around, heartbeat skyrocketing. There, standing behind you, was the hyena halfling you had talked a little bit with when you were handing out breakfast.

He retreated to a safe distance and sat down, cross-legged, studying you curiously, a slight smile on his face as though he was proud that he had frightened you. Suddenly, you were all too aware of the claws on his fingers and the unnaturally sharp canines that shone in the sunlight when he flashed you a lazy smile.

“Shishishi,” he giggled, eyes locked on you, waiting for your reaction.

“You scared me, Ruggie!” you said, your heartbeat starting to go back to its normal pace.

His grin only widened. You noticed his eyes flickering from you to your notebook.

“Oh! Are you interested in my notebook?” you asked, holding it out to him.

Ruggie frowned, looking a little offended, “I can’t read.”

Oh. You felt your cheeks growing warm. Of course a halfling, who had spent his life in the wild and then captivity, wouldn’t know how to read. It was a miracle that any of them had picked up enough English to be able to speak it.

“Do you want me to read it to you?” you asked.

Ruggie’s eyes widened and he cocked his head at you. Finally, he shook his head. A little disappointed, you closed your notebook. “That’s alright. Did you want to talk?”

Ruggie shook his head once more and you felt yourself at a loss for words. You weren’t sure why he was still here if he wasn’t interested in talking. One of the other hyenas made a whooping sound and Ruggie responded with his own hyena noises, turning his attention to the other hyenas for a moment before he turned back to you.

You decided to try to get him to speak to you, “So, did you enjoy breakfast? You had three servings, after all.”

Finally, Ruggie nodded then, as an afterthought, added, “I like donuts better.”

“Donuts?” you couldn’t help but laugh, “Would you like it if I brought some?”

Ruggie’s eyes widened, “Donuts?”

“Yeah!” you said happily, “My boss said I could bring you guys anything, as long as I paid for it with my own money.”

He looked at you like you had hung the stars in the sky, “Donuts!”

Ruggie called back to his friends with a series of whoops and other hyena noises and they responded back enthusiastically. You wished you could understand their language.

You turned back to your notebook.

It seems like hyena halflings like sweets or, at least this group likes donuts. One of them, the one named Ruggie, seems like he has warmed up to me a little. We talked a little, mostly about donuts, but I feel like he isn’t as scared of me as the others are.

Ruggie seemed to have had enough, because he stood up and, with a curious glance back at you, he ran off to join the others, kneeling by the watering hole to drink along with his peers.

You were a little disappointed by how short the conversation had lasted, but more than anything, you were excited that you had a conversation with a hyena halfling at all. Ruggie still seemed a little wary of you, but much more comfortable with your presence than earlier.

It was a step in the right direction.

You were not looking forward to seeing Leona, but you were already in the savannah exhibit and the lions weren’t too far off. The pride’s positions were the same as this morning’s, with Leona lounging on the large rock while the other lions sat and laid on the grass beneath him. The lions were either napping, grooming their hair, or just talking quietly amongst themselves.

The lions were not frightened by you and why would they be? They had a killer bite and claws on each hand. They regarded you lazily, as if you bored them a little.

“Hello, everyone!” you did your best to not sound as terrified as you felt. None of the lions stopped what they were doing for you, continuing their actions as if you weren’t even there.

You hadn’t even noticed at first that Leona was awake, until you glanced at the rock, hoping to get a reaction from him.

He sat up on the rock, staring at you with an impassive expression. Despite his lack of a warm welcome, your heart soared. This was your chance!

“Hi there!” you said cheerfully.

He looked down his nose at you, clearly not impressed by your greeting.

“Did you have a good nap?” you asked.

Leona continued to stare at you, unimpressed with your attempts at earning his attention.

“So, I know your name is Leona, but would you like to know mine?” you asked hopefully.

Leona’s eyes turned to the right, as though he was making a decision. Finally, he spoke in that slow, rumbling voice of his, “Whatever, I don’t care. Go ahead”

You smiled up at him, pleased that you had gotten his permission, even though he wasn’t as interested as you had hoped, “I’m (Y/n), it’s nice to officially meet you.”

Leona laid back down but didn’t close his eyes, watching you as you looked back at him.

“Did you eat your steak? I don’t want you to go hungry.”

Leona’s eyes widened a little, as though you had taken him by surprise. And maybe you had.

His gaze evaded yours as he responded to your question, “Yes, I ate it.”

“Oh good!” you smiled happily up at him.

Leona studied you closely, clearly unable to read you. Leona tilted his head and turned away from you, “Is that all you need?”

“I’ll write in my notebook, if you’d prefer me to do that.”

Leona grunted in response and closed his eyes.

DAY 1

LIONS

The lion halflings are not shy like the hyenas, but they are hesitant to talk to me. I feel as though, if I earn their king’s acceptance, I will be able to talk to them all. The king has started to talk to me, even if it was only a few words.

The lions are taller than the hyenas, most around 6 feet tall. They are easily differentiated by their lion ears and tail. There are 19 lions, with most being female, and only one cub.

Unsurprisingly, the lion halflings spend a good chunk of their time sleeping. I assume this is from the lion part of them.

“Did you want to read what I wrote?” you asked, sensing Leona’s eyes on you. Your eyes met his and he held your gaze for a few moments before growling, “I’m going to sleep.”

He flopped back down on the rock and closed his eyes again, his breathing becoming rhythmic almost right away.

You didn’t want to bother Leona when he was trying to fall asleep, so you sneaked away, sending an unrequited wave over your shoulder to the other lions. Maybe if you weren’t so determined to get out of the heat, you would have noticed the eyes boring into the back of your head.

The walk to the wolves’ exhibit was a long one. After all, you had to cross half the savannah before making it out into the back hallway meant for staff. Then, you had to push through the crowds to get to the wolf exhibit. At least the crowds weren’t too bad, since evening was on its way.

You were excited that the sun was falling. You’d be able to watch wolf halflings at their preferred time of day. After all, wolves hunted in the twilight hours.

You hoped that didn’t mean they’d see you as prey.

The exhibit door opened easily and you found yourself breathing the air in deeply. It took you a moment to discover just why you liked the wolves’ enclosure so much. Mountain air. Somehow, some way, the zoo had made the enclosure smell like the mountains. The air was even a little thinner here than it was on the pathways.

These wolf halflings must have been living in the mountains when they were brought to the zoo. The thought made your heart hurt a little. Were they offered a deal to live in captivity or were they captured and brought here by force? You didn’t like to think about it too much.

This wasn’t your battle to fight.

The keeper who fed the wolves their evening meal walked past you with full buckets. As she passed you, she gave you a word of advice, “You aren’t gonna find them all together like they are at mealtimes. They all split up, especially in the evening.”

You nodded, a little disappointed. That could make it harder to find them, much less study them. Plus, it’s not like you could look in several directions at once. This might be a little more complicated than you thought.

Or maybe it’ll be fine, you reassured yourself, trying to stay positive.

You reached a steep, downward slope and decided it was probably the best vantage point you would find. You found a nice place to sit down between a cluster of rocks and took out your binoculars.

It took almost half an hour for you to see any movement. Down, at the base of the hill, one wolf halfling walked close to the barrier between the wolves and guests. He had his back hunched in a sort of prowl, and you realized that he was probably in hunt mode.

Excited, you pulled out your notebook to make some notes.

Your pen froze above the paper when you heard a growl.

You slowly turned your head, and what you saw made your blood run cold. A buff wolf halfling with dark gray hair and pin-pricked ears had his lips drawn over his fangs in a snarl. He was growling so ferociously that flecks of spit flew in your direction. His yellow eyes dilated as he grew closer, back hunched as though he were ready to lunge for your throat at any moment.

You gulped, forcing yourself to stay completely still. You were afraid, if you moved, you’d have your throat torn out before you could blink.

The wolf took one step closer, growled one last time, then lunged.

The halfling seemed to stop midair and, before you knew it, he was lying on his side in the dirt a few feet away. The cause of his sudden stop was made clear after a few terrified moments, when your eyes turned upwards.

The white-haired wolf halfling stood with his shoulder still out in front of him. You realized that he had shoulder-checked the older wolf during his attack. Shakily you smiled at him.

“Thank you so much!”

The dark-skinned halfling took a seat on one of the rocks surrounding you. You studied his features, everything from his white tail to his white ear tips. He, on the other hand, watched the older wolf warily.

The older wolf pushed himself to his feet, shaking the dirt from his clothes. His yellow eyes glared at you, but he limped off in the opposite direction, disappearing into the shadows of the trees.

The white-haired halfling turned his attention back to you. You decided to offer your friendship to him.

“My name is (Y/n), what’s yours?”

He stared at you for a moment, before his rumbling voice said, “Jack.”

“It’s nice to meet you Jack,” you said, trying not to come across as too excited to be talking to him. You didn’t want to scare him away with your eagerness.

Jack continued to stare, his golden stare softening a little when he said, “Not safe.”

He didn’t seem to have a very good grasp on the English language, but that was understandable. It didn’t seem like the wolves were all too friendly toward humans.

“I have to stay,” you explained to Jack, hoping he would understand.

“Not safe,” Jack replied. He got up from his sitting position and crossed the distance between you in less than a second. You watched, trembling, as his one of his clawed hands took hold of the back of your shirt collar.

You blinked owlishly as Jack began to carry you by the collar, stunned by his behavior and not wanting to tick him off by fighting. From what you could tell, he didn’t seem to want to actually hurt you, but you didn’t want to push your luck.

After a long walk, Jack set you back down on your feet. He pointed one clawed finger behind you. “Not safe.”

You turned around and, to your surprise, you were met with the exhibit door. Comprehension dawned on you. He wanted to keep you safe.

“No, no, I’m okay,” you soothed, “I have to study-”

“Not safe,” Jack responded, voice even gruffer.

You tried to come up with the perfect solution. You had to soothe Jack but you also had to do your job.

“Well, you could protect me,” you suggested.

“Pro-tect?” Jack’s eyes widened.

“Yeah, keep me safe,” you replied. Jack took a while to think that one over. Finally, he nodded.

He followed you back to your spot like an obedient puppy, but refused to sit down, choosing instead to hover over you, eyes darting in all directions.

Day 1

WOLVES

Wolf halflings tend to be around 6 feet tall, distinguishable by their wolf ears and tails. There are 12 of them in this zoo, with 6 females and males each.

Some of the wolf halflings are very aggressive, and this seems to amplify in the evening hours, possibly because these are their hunting hours. One wolf, however, acts in a protective manner towards me.

It is interesting to note the wolf halflings appear to be in hunting mode despite just being fed.

All of the halflings, save for one, have hair and fur in different shades of gray, while one has white hair and fur.

You didn’t see any other wolves for the next few hours and you eventually decided it was time to go home. Jack shadowed you on your way to the exhibit entrance. You waved goodbye, and he mimicked the action awkwardly.

Laughing a little, you went home for the day.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland

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lizthewriter · 6 months

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general theodore nott headcanons

• theo is the textbook defintion of dark academia

• his wardrobe is only filled with varying shades of black, grey, brown, and green; he mostly wears suits, but when he wants to feel comfortable, he'll thrown on a knit sweater

• he is very quiet - around people he doesn't know, he doesn't speak; around his friends, even, he doesn't speak too much

• he is highly intelligent; he's literally right up there with hermione, top of the class

• does a lot of free reading - mostly nonfiction but will tell no one about the romance novels hiding under his mattress

• sleeps around because parent issues - even though he doesn't really speak, he still gets bitches . . . probably because he is handsome af and also cause when he does speak, he is smooth

• he plays quidditch, though he doesn't care too much for it - when draco saw how good theo was on a broom, he begged and begged theo to join quidditch until he finally agreed

• does smoke, but would stop if you asked him too

• he is the adopted introvert . . . prove me wrong

• he's only really close with blaise, but because mattheo and blaise are best friends (by the transitive property of arithmetic), mattheo and theo are good friends too

• he's extremely protective (and slightly possessive) of the people he loves, probably because he lost his mother and he's afraid to lose the people he loves too

• scary dog privileges

• was almost sorted into ravenclaw

• loves winter and fall too much - he kind of looks out of sorts in the warmer months

• has never worn a pair of shorts in his life . . . i'm not kidding

• he's a little self-obssessed, but mostly just with his hair (you do NOT touch unless you have permission)

• he's not a hopeless romantic, but he'd do the most romantic shit and pretend like he did nothing, this mf 💀💀

• *sets up an entire romantic, home-cooked, candle lit dinner* *sits down, places napkin in his lap, and begins to eat* "well, aren't you gonna sit down?"

• doesn't tell anyone he has a crush on you

• he pines after you for ages - at first, he's kind of mad at you, cause he can't understand why he feels this way about you, but then this man is HEAD over HEELS for you

• he wants to figure out the perfect way to ask you out

• he gets really overwhelmed and stressed about it

• blaise sees theo huddled over his desk, hair all crazy, muttering like a maniac and asks him what's wrong - theo just starts shouting at blaise about you and he realizes his best friend is in love

• blaise is a good bro

• he helps theo plan the perfect date in hogsmeade - now all theo has to do is ask you out

• theo actually hasn't interacted with you too much, you have some classes together and you've been partners in potions

• he kind of just finds you after class one time and hovers behind you until your friends point him out to you

• you shook away your friends and turn to face theo - he stands completely straight and he looks obviously distressed

• "all right, nott?"

• "come to hogsmeade with me. please."

• "uh, sure. all right!"

• he takes you all around hogsmeade to anywhere you want to go

• he's not sure exactly what to do - he's never been on a date before . . . he wants to kiss you but doesn't know the perfect moment so he ends up forgoing that paticular thing

• he loves massaging - idk why, but I just feel like he would love to just run his fingers through your hair while you're cuddling or rub his back but his massages are >>>>>

• he thinks far into the future - living together, marriage, having kids, growing old

• he's a daydreamer

• he's a bit of a perfectionist too, but he never let's that side of him show to others

• everything HAS to be perfect for you

• he stops sleeping around once he gets with you, dedicates to you completely

• won't even look in the direction of another girl

• he prefers to sleep in with you - his love languages are quality time and physical touch

• he will help you study whenever you need

• will also drop any plans he has for you (hoes before bros)

• prefers to take you out to nice and exotic places for the holidays instead of having you over at his place (his father is a nightmare - he's adamant on ensuring that the two of you never cross paths)

• will propose to you spontaneously, approximately six months after being together

• he will not take no for an answer; will compromise, but he will not let you say no unless you despise him

• you are his favorite person in the world, his one and only, and you'd best remember that he's do ANYTHING for you

tags: @annaisabookworm

#— [ glizzy posts ☆ ]#theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #hp fanfcition #my writing #fanfiction #my fanfiction #my fic #writing #fanfic #harry potter #slytherin boys #theodore nott #theo nott

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wispythreads · 6 months

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I did catch on to that part of it with him bouncing between jobs so frequently, and some of the other things like the fridge freezer, but they were still included in the jumbled up thoughts I listed out partly because I was thinking about them before coming to an answer, and partly because I'm not fully sure if those answers are all there is to it.

Cause, yeah, there’s the newspaper clipping rebuking him for being “unprofessional and brash” (which damn that’s also just rotating in my head because Vince was clearly reading this specific clipping earlier and blatantly lied saying Rody hadn’t been mentioned at all, later scribbling out the section talking about the waiter), he’s very clearly messy and unkempt in pretty much every aspect of his life, and even if he gets the to-go question right in the tutorial, Vince appends the "Good work." with "keep tone in mind."

But, the thing is, he does know a lot of the basics. Much of the tutorial is really just for the benefit of the player to know how the mechanics of the game works, Rody meanwhile nods along and does whatever task is needed without comment, only getting tripped up when Vince mentions the way the menu for his bistro works, and when the aforementioned customer asked if he could get boxes to go or call in his order ahead of time. Which I think are reasonable things to get tripped up on! Those seem like things that would vary depending on the establishment he was working for.

I keep thinking about his reaction when Vince pivoted the conversation of "do you actually like your job" onto Rody. His awkward response that it paid him money. Vince voicing specifically “I doubt you wanted to wait tables for a living-”, and that being met with how there was “something” Rody went to school for, that he was too hesitant to tell Vince, feeling he’d get made fun of. The impression that its some passion he had that just didn't work out. The revelation later that the “something” in question was him majoring in hospitality.

He was afraid he'd be made fun of for actively going to school and choosing to study for skills that, either ironically or purposefully, would've been useful for his current job of waiting tables. A goal that he flunked out of. He has had 28 jobs in the service industry over the course of 7 years. He keeps losing his job, but he also keeps getting hired.

I keep thinking of the post-credits scene of the Best Served Hot, whisky lemon cake ending. "I can't keep watching you ruin any semblance of progress you make with yourself while trying to make me happy, it's exhausting-"

He's only 4 days into this job when he approaches Vince for a raise. He already figures he'll have enough to do something nice for Manon, his "girlfriend," by the end of the week, but he wants more to make it really special. He is very clearly told 'no.'

On the 5th day, when his shift is finally over and done, we don't next see him as we usually do, back at his apartment. He's still at the bistro, all the lights turned out. The only other person presumably being Vince hacking away at the meat in the freezer that'll be used for the meals in the morning. The first time I went through that night, I presumed Rody had just been selected to stay late and help clean up for the night, with whatever Vince was doing in the background ominous horror ambience to be unsettled by.

But we can't really do anything while there that would support this initial assumption. There are only two things you can do. Snoop around in Vince's office, and... steal from the cash register. Whether you avoid doing the latter as I did or not, it has no bearing on whatever ending you get, but just the fact that it's even an option to Rody...

How many other times did he allow his love for Manon to rule over his decisions, making choices in the pursuit of what he believed would make her happy, no matter the cost, before finally facing a price for his obsession beyond the scope of his worst nightmares?

...

And after all that I do want to defend the rollerskates a bit because

Rollerskates in restaurants are kinda a thing, in the 1960s (the year this game is set) they were a pretty popular gimmick/tool for diners in the U.S. at least, not sure about elsewhere in the world unfortunately

Yeah he canonically brought and proceeded to wear rollerskates to work at a fancy bistro. But that also means Vince watched him show up to work one day, wearing rollerskates, and just let him do it. Just watched Rody roll around his fancy bistro attending to customers that expect the highest of professionalism, and said nothing.

#dead plate #dead plate spoilers #rody #bit of play experience #sort of #hopefully this makes sense for others reading this my thoughts still feel very jumbled up

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writerswall26 · 2 months

Text

My Sweet Cairo (Part 8)

Synopsis: The Ravens' Soccer team Captain fell in love for Cairo Sweet

Warning: Slight cursing, Emotions, Mention of death and SH.

Words: 2.4k

Masterlist | Previous Part | Next Part

A/N: I was so pumped while writing this. I enjoyed this part so much. We get to know what really happened and flesh out R's father's mind. We also saw Cairo being responsible and using the advices she received to get some help! Happy Reading!

Y/N tried to avoid being alone the entire day, not wanting to give Cairo the opportunity to have even a minute to talk to her. What Cairo told her a few nights ago is still stuck in her head. She doesn't know if she should be afraid or what.

"Hey, Y/—"

"Will you walk me home?" Cairo cut Jasmine off as soon as Y/N got out of her last class of the day. She was not expecting Cairo to wait for her!

Y/N looked shocked and confused. She gave Jasmine a look. But her friend just stood by and watched the scene unfold. Traitor!

"Y/N, walk me home, please?" Cairo said, sweetly this time, with a smile on her face.

"Uhm, I'm sorry but I have—"

"Uh no, we're not going. I gotta study for a pop quiz tomorrow. Winnie's coming to help me, I'm sorry dude." Jasmine cut the taller girl off.

Y/N glared at her while Cairo smiled widely. "So?" Cairo asked cutely, for fuck's sake!

"Uhm, sure." Y/N said hesitantly.

"Great!" Cairo said happily before she held the taller girl's hand and pulled her.

Y/N didn't say a single word as she turned to Jasmine and gave her a look, mouthing "I'm killing you tomorrow, you traitor!"

On the way home, the two of them did not say a word. They went with Y/N's route instead of Cairo's since Y/N has her bike with her.

"I've talked to Mr. Miller." Cairo started, causing Y/N to stop for a moment.

"Why?" She asked before she followed Cairo again.

"I went to apologise." Cairo started, causing Y/N to furrow her brows. "I'm seeing a therapist now," Cairo said, glancing at Y/N who looked really confused, and cute. "Your mom referred me to a work colleague of hers. Told me it might help with the issues I had."

Y/N is confused, like really confused. "Mum did that? Why?"

Cairo shrugged. "We were together for a few hours before you came when we had dinner. She confronted me about what I did. Told me the same thing you said, how messed up it was. Then she told me about a friend of hers, a therapist, she told me I should check it out, see if it helps. That's why I went to Mr. Miller. I want to sort things out before graduation."

"What did Mr. Miller say?"

"We sat down, talked about what went wrong, what happened. He apologized to me too. He accepted the fact that he was in the wrong too, that he wasn't careful and clear, that he stepped the boundaries and led me on."

Well that's... incredibly surprising. Y/N never thought she'd be hearing a redemption arc between two messed up individuals. Although, she's happy to hear that Mr. Miller's finally seen what he did wrong. That's a huge point. And she's happy that Cairo's seeking out help.

"So, how long would you be going to therapy?" Y/N asked, glancing at Cairo who pursed her lips.

"I don't know. As long as I need, I guess. It's not really that bad." Cairo said, smiling at the thought that Y/N is finally talking to her with anger and resentment in her voice.

"How about when you go to college? You wouldn't know anyone around there."

"My therapist knows a friend where I'm going to go. She said she'd refer me to him and continue therapy there."

Y/N nodded. "That's a good thing."

Cairo looked up at her, a smile on her face, her dimples showing. "How long have you gone to therapy?"

Y/N pursed her lips. "A year and a half, I guess? My therapist told me she was proud of my progress so she adviced that I spend my time being a normal kid. She told me I should come to her whenever I need and so far, it's all good."

Cairo nodded. "That's good. I'm proud of you."

Y/N chuckled, lowering her head. "Alright, mum." She said, which made Cairo laugh as well.

They continued walking silently, comfortable silence this time until they reached Cairo's place.

"Here's you." Y/N said, stopping in front of Cairo's house.

The brunette turned to her and gave her a smile. "Thank you for walking me home."

Y/N nodded. "It's no biggie."

Cairo leaned up and gave her a kiss on the cheek before she walked inside the house, throwing a glance at the tall girl who waved at her.

When Y/N was sure Cairo's finally inside, she rode her bike and went home where she waited for her mum to come home to ask questions.

That night, when Y/M/N came home, she was immediately cornered by Y/N at dinner.

"I was wondering," Y/N started. "What were you talking about with Cairo before I got home that night?"

Y/M/N gave her a smile. "You, Mr. Miller, dad." The older woman answered shortly.

Y/N furrowed her brows. "You talked to her about dad?"

Y/M/N nodded. "Yes, I wanted her to know how terrible of a person she was for doing what she did. But then there's Mr. Miller."

"Who's not entirely at fault."

"But he was indeed the adult in the situation."

"You're defending Cairo, mum."

Y/M/N looked at her daughter, seeing the problem once and for all. "I'm not defending Cairo, what she did was wrong, yes. But don't you think what Mr. Miller did was far worse than that?"

Y/N stayed quiet, thinking.

"Honey, Mr. Miller's case is different from your dad's case. You have to see that." Y/M/N explained, Y/N is being blinded by what happened to her dad.

"I know. I know it's different."

"And?" Y/M/N tried to probe further.

"I'm not defending Mr. Miller either, mum. If that's what you think. Maybe I'm over compensating. Maybe I thought by helping Mr. Miller, I gave justice to what happened to dad. But what if I'm wrong, mum?"

"Are you? Look at it from an outside perspective, honey. Look at it both ways."

Y/N furrowed her brows. She doesn't know where to go from here. It's weird talking about this with her mum but at the same time, the answers are clearer. Her mind wasn't being blocked by her emotions, her father's connection to the case. If there's anyone to blame, it's the both of them, Cairo and Mr. Miller. There's no one to defend, no one to side with.

"There's always a connection, honey." Her mum brought her back to her senses. "But there's a huge difference and that's what I want you to see. Yes, Cairo was in the wrong for seducing Mr. Miller. But is it entirely her fault? Is it really? Why would she act that way if Mr. Miller didn't do anything wrong?"

"Was I wrong for helping Mr. Miller?" Y/N finally asked, looking at her mum with worried eyes.

Y/M/N gave her a smile as she held her hand, squeezing it to assure her. "You did what you thought was right at the time. You saved both of them by doing so. Don't beat yourself up for it."

Y/N stayed up that night thinking of what her mum had told her. She wasn't really thinking when she lent a hand to Mr. Miller. She knew it was wrong, she heard it from Mr. Miller himself. And yet, she still sided with him for what? For her father? No, she thought. It's for personal gain. She had the power to turn the story around, and she did. So what does that say about her?

She's no different from those students she despises the most. Maybe even worse. Her thoughts are so incriminating, so powerful that she did not blink sleep that night.

So the next day when she got to class, she was noticeably tired. She looked like a walking zombie and anyone who sees her thought so too. Her friends and Cairo saw that too and they were worried.

"What happened to you?" Winnie asked over lunch when Y/N didn't even touch her food, she's usually a foodie.

Y/N gave her a tired look and shook her head. "I'm just tired."

"We can see that, dude. You have dark circles around your eyes." Jasmine said, as worried.

Y/N sighed. "Did you guys think I made the wrong decision? When I stood up for Mr. Miller?"

Winnie and Jasmine turned to one another, giving each other looks.

"I mean, what Cairo did was fucked up. She literally wrote a porn story between her and Mr. Miller." Jasmine said, as a matter of fact.

"However, I don't think Cairo's entirely at fault. I mean, she messed up but not entirely her fault." Winnie said, on the other hand.

Y/N groaned. "Maybe I should've just shut my mouth and let them do whatever to Mr. Miller."

"Hey, woah, hold up." Jasmine started, getting the attention of her friend. "You did what you thought was best, okay? Both of them fucked up, that's a fact. The other one stepped on the fine line, and the other one was led on. There's no winning in this situation."

"Whatever you did, you did it for them both. Struck two birds with one stone, as they say." Winnie said, holding Y/N's hand and squeezing it gently.

Y/N gave them a small smile and nodded. "Maybe I shouldn't really beat myself up with this one."

"Damn right, you shouldn't." Jasmine said, giving her an assuring smile.

After their class, she was already outside Cairo's last class, waiting for the girl to come out. When Cairo saw her, an immediate smile drew her face.

"What are you doing here? You should've gone home and got some sleep. Look at you." Cairo said, holding a gentle hand to Y/N's cheek to look at her face.

"Can I walk you home?" Y/N asked with a sheepish smile.

Cairo was shocked to say the least. She did not expect that. She was expecting Y/N to come around but not this fast. Still, she was happy about it.

"Sure." Cairo smiled, holding out a hand to Y/N to shake her head.

"That's reaching."

"Oh." Cairo said, a bit disappointed but she smiled it away.

"Come on."

The duo walked out of school together. They're all smiles and shit but still, Y/N cannot take her mind off her conversation with her mum. She might as well talk to Cairo now.

So when they got to Cairo's place, the brunette did not expect that Y/N would park her car on the fence and followed her to her front porch. The taller girl sat on the step and patted the space beside her.

"What's going on?" Cairo asked, sitting beside Y/N who gave her a smile.

The taller girl stayed quiet for a moment, contemplating. "I wanted to talk to you about what happened."

Cairo nodded. "What do you want to talk about?" She asked, wanting Y/N to start the conversation.

"I don't know. I just want to have clarity. I had a talk with my mum last night. It was a hard pill to swallow but, I guess it was needed."

""What happened to him? Your dad?" Cairo asked, glancing at Y/N who was looking at the trees ahead.

"My mum didn't tell you?" She asked, confused. She thought they spoke about her dad.

"Not all of it."

Y/N glanced at Cairo, contemplating if she should tell her about it or not. A part of her doesn't want to, because talking about it means relieving it and she hates that. She hates that she's going back to that time. But a huge part of her wants to let it all out, just throw it out there and forget about it all.

She chose the latter.

Y/N took a deep breath.

"I don't know when it started. My dad was really passionate about teaching. He was really good at what he did. He's a great father, you know? He was always present and attentive to my needs." Y/N started, smiling at the memory of her father in every soccer game, every recital, every academic competitions, everything. He was always there, always smiling and looking proud.

"One semester during sophomore year, he came home all happy and giddy, it wasn't unusual really. He was always happy and giddy. But this one's just different. He told us he had met this student in class, he thought she was brilliant." Y/N stopped for a moment, trying to calm herself down before she started crying and shouting.

Cairo noticed how hard it is for Y/N to continue so she held the taller girl's hand in her own and squeezed it. "You don't have to continue. I believe I got the gist of it."

Y/N shook her head and turned to Cairo with a pained smile. "I want to continue."

Cairo looked worried, but she nodded nonetheless. "Okay. But you can stop anytime." She gave out an assuring smile.

Y/N nodded, squeezing Cairo's hand gently. "He told mum and I all about this girl. We were amazed by her. So we told dad to bring her home one time so we could talk. He did. We had a barbeque one saturday, family's all there and she was there. I thought she was brilliant, she was so fascinating with all the things she knew. Little did we know, she would cause the biggest heart break to ever happen to us."

Y/N shook her head. "During the middle of the semester, my father started to act weird. He started getting drunk, not sleeping, he started being absent. One day he came home and told us he was let go of his job. My mum and I asked why, he never answered. The days after that, he became difficult. He would pick a fight with me and mum. He would get angry. He would get drunk, pass out on the couch. I slowly watched my father become a shell of what he used to be. He just stopped functioning."

Cairo could not help it anymore. She stood up and went in front of Y/N, hugging the girl in her arms tightly as she gently brushed Y/N's hair with her fingers, wanting the taller girl to know that she's there, that it's okay. Y/N leaned in Cairo's arms, sighing heavily.

"Then my mum knew about what happened. Turns out the girl orchestrated a plan for my dad to get fired. She invited my dad for coffee one time, asked a friend to take a couple of pictures that looked intimate. The school board didn't like it. Had an entire meeting about it. My dad tried to fight with all his might. Turns out when he started acting weird, that's when he was battling with those accusations. It took only 3 photos and one girl for my dad to lose everything. One day after I won a game, I showed my medal to my dad but he didn't say anything. Next thing I know, I was running to their room. Then I saw him, blood everywhere, his body unmoving. He was gone, Cairo."

This is the most Cairo has seen Y/N vulnerable. Now she understood perfectly why Y/N wanted to help Mr. Miller. What happened to her dad was unjust. So when told the school board that Cairo's accusations were baseless, this is what she meant. What happened to Y/N's father were baseless accusations.

So, she just stood there, holding Y/N in her arms, letting her let out all the frustrations and emotions she's bottled up the entire time.

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x fem reader #cairo sweet x reader #tara carpenter x reader #wednesday addams x reader #cairo sweet #tara carpenter #wednesday addams #miller's girl

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hah-studios · 5 months

Text

Wish Rewrite

Okay so I got this outta my system. I'm in no way saying this idea is better than the movie. But at least I'm getting my Star Boy fix!

Prologue read via old timey story book:

Once upon a time, not so long ago, there was an island called Rosas. While beautiful, Rosas became terrorized by a monster. The brave, good people of the island tried to slay it, but they were beaten each time.

Then, out of nowhere, came a powerful sorcerer named Magnifico; with his abilities he slayed the beast and freed the people. Rosas was so grateful they named him and, his his beautiful wife, Amaya, king and queen.

The new king would go on to prove how generous and good he truly was: by using his magic to grant wishes…

We are introduced to Asha, who was reading the history of Rosas to her baby goat, Valentino. Several books are surrounding her at home, one of which Valentino is trying to eat. Through talking to the small goat the audience learns more about Asha, while intelligent and hard working, she is shy and a workaholic, always studying and offering tours to visitors. Today is the day she applies to be the apprentice to King Magnifico, like the rest of Rosas she idolizes him and believes following in his footsteps will give her a sense of self. She will look at a picture of her late grandfather who raised her, promising that she will help make wishes come true in honorof his that was never granted.

She goes to guide the newest tour (Welcome to Rosas, with an added on segment talking about the love the king and queen share) where we learn of how King Magnifico and Queen Amaya benevolently rule the island. When citizens turn 18 they offer their wishes to Magnifico who will protect the wish until it is time for it to be granted.

After the tour Asha goes to the royal kitchens were her best and only friend Dahlia is a royal baker. They talk about Asha’s application. Dahlia reassures Asha that she will get the job, and admits she hopes it’ll give her a boost of confidence to maybe make some new friends. Asha says she already has Dahlia and doesn’t need anyone else. It is then Queen Amaya (holding her skinny tabby Lulu) arrives to escort Asha to the king. This version of Amaya feels untouchable, her voice calm and collected as she tells Asha to not waste time, don’t ask to see the wishes, and yes they had received the several letters Asha sent asking for an interview.

Asha is then left in a study where she notices a peculiar door, but Magnifico arrives before she could examine it. He is a charming man, his presence seeming to fill the room as he carries a staff with an emerald tip. Asha is clearly intimidated but he’s polite as he introduces himself, even offer his condolences for her grandfather’s passing-knowing she’s an orphan. Trying not to trip over herself Asha praises the king for his hard work and shows off her knowledge of magic and Rosas. Magnifico is impressed. And after Asha passionately tells him how her ‘wish’ is to help protect Rosas, it’s people and wishes, Magnifico decides she’s worthy to be his apprentice and they’d have the announcement that night.

The people crowd before the castle that night, Asha hurries to tell Dahlia the good news. But Gabo overhears her announcement and makes a snide remark about her overworking and ‘sucking up’ to the king and queen. He is quickly shushed by Bazeema who looks almost afraid of Asha now that she has such a high status. But she returns to the stage to witness Amaya whisper in Magnifico’s ear. He then announces the person to have their wish granted that month; a woman who wants to be a professional dress maker. After using the staff to grant the wish he makes a joking comment that she can now make his wife hundreds of beautiful dresses. He then summons Asha forward to announce her as his new apprentice. Asha happily exclaims how excited she is to help the people, but she is given a frosty reception, murmuring about how they find her weird, are resentful for failing their own applications, and don’t know how this shy girl who never engages with the locals outside tour duty, could become someone as great as their king. Asha takes the doubt but once she can she leaves the stage, tripping in the process and embarrassing herself further. She runs off with Valentino into the forest (This Wish) and ends up noticing one of the brighter stars. She remembers hearing how once upon a time, wishes came from stars. Not seeing any harm to it she wishes to become a wonderful magic user and become as great, if not greater, than the King himself.

The star suddenly seems to glow brighter and get bigger, Asha realizes too late it’s because it’s getting closer. She is knocked into by a human sized ball of light, rolling across the grass before kicking it away from her. It’s to her great shock that the ball of light was…a boy. A handsome boy he glows faintly, his hair a pure golden color that flows like he is underwater, he dusts himself off as he hovers off the ground. They have an awkward but cute introduction, the Star not understanding personal boundaries and getting right up into Asha’s face, giving her a too enthusiastic hand shake when offered and floating around as if there’s no gravity. Asha quickly deduces he’s a star that came down when she summoned him. Her hypothesis is further proven when he tosses some dust on Valentino who then starts to speak. (He is not voiced by Alan Tudyk in this rewrite, instead he will have a voice that better fits his character design. He will be a mixture of Olaf and Jiminy Cricket in terms of personality/role in the story). Asha asks Star to give her the same dust so her wish will be granted, but Star shakes his head. He is mute and tries to explain using sign language, but that’s one book Asha hasn’t read yet. She decides to call him Star before leading him back to the city, he can stay at her house until she figures out what to do with him. On the way he fonds over the animals, hitting them with a few clouds of golden dust (ex. A brown squirrel turns red, a bird’s nest gets an upgrade).

The next morning Asha brings Dahlia over and shows her Star (both he and Valentino would be hiding out in the chicken coop). Dahalia is at first concerned her friend has a man hidden away, but after Asha explains they agree to take him to King Magnifico to see what he has to say. However they want Star to stay under the radar and not get noticed by the townspeople. This is when Star reveals he’s a shapeshifter, transforming into a copy of Valentino, the only different is his eyes are still gold.

The four arrive into town and while things go to plan at first, Star’s natural curiosity has him running off to explore the town, Asha and friends trying not to lose him. He comes across Simon who looks miserable and exhausted at an outside table. Empathetic, Star discreetly puts some star dust in his cup of tea. When he drinks it he’s suddenly energized and is flabbergasted. He turns around just as Asha appears and picks up Star, he asks her if she’s already learned magic from Magnifico, even stating he had just been wishing he could take something that would make him less tired. Asha is awkwardly silent, not wanting to take credit but also not wanting to reveal what Star is. But Simon pays no mind and drags her to his friends so he can show them he’s no longer tired. There is then a montage of the seven dwarves based characters showing off their problems and Star uses his abilities to grant these small unspoken wishes (he gets a jar of honey for Safi to help with his allergies, a chicken coop so Dario can have his own chickens, dancing shoes for Hal, a stress toy for Gabo, Bazeema’s secret introverted hide out, and even a bag of a very rare ingredient for Dahlia so she could make a special recipe she mentioned at the beginning of the film). Throughout this scene we see Asha opening up a bit more to the characters, starting to form friendships. While in Bazeema’s new hideout they talk of having a little party with dancing and treats and in his excitement Star accidentally drops his disguise and reveals his true form. The group is shocked and Asha is forced to explain who he is, though when Gabo tries to accuse Asha of tricking them Star immediately puts himself in front of her, defending her from the accusation. The other characters also come to Asha and Star’s defense and Gabo relents, though snarkily asks if they should tell the King there’s a wish granting, shapeshifting guy from space in Rosas. Asha will go alone to ask, leaving Star with the others.

She arrives at the castle, King Magnifico and Queen Amaya are surprised to see her so soon as he hadn’t summoned her but lets her in. Asha, feeling uncomfortable to just out and say what had happened, asks Magnifico what he knows about stars. The king looks momentarily surprised but quickly shrugs it off, he tells Asha that many years ago stars would grant peoples’ wishes, but only so they could have the human indebted to them. They were malicious creatures pretending benevolence so they could control the masses, one of the worst things was granting evil wishes and having people turn on the ones who wouldn’t make wishes. Amaya retells her how her parents were oppressed by stars after merely asking for food and a roof. Eventually it was decided that the newer generations would never wish on another star, and Magnifico dedicated himself to learning magic so he could help good people have their wishes granted without having to pay him back. And, unlike stars, he has a moral compass, so he would not grant any wishes that would harm people. He then looms over Asha and asks her if there’s something she needs to tell him. Asha looks visibly torn, her respect and admiration for Magnifico clashing with what he told her. Star is not at all like he had just told her, and Asha ends up reassuring him that no, she has nothing to tell him.

She returns to the hide out feeling like a traitor, wanting to talk to Star alone. But the group is already starting their party, dancing and making music. Star, spotting Asha, immediately pulls her onto the dance floor. The group cheers her on as they dance around, and Asha’s anxieties melt away as she’s swept up into the dancing. A spark is lit.

Asha, Star, and Valentino return to her house and this time the two go to her living room where he admires all her books and notices the picture of her grandfather. She tells him how much she loved the man, how he had taken care of her after her parents died, how much she missed how, how she wished his wish could’ve been granted. Star comforts her in her grief and she feels safe enough to tell him about what Magnifico said. Star reassures her the king is lying and Asha finds herself believing him, and yet the King is a great man who has done so much for Rosas-why would he lie to her?

It is Valentino who suggests they go do some snooping (not him though, he’s going to eat a cook book as soon as the two leave).

Star carries Asha into the sky, unable to resist showing off to her first. Asha let’s herself enjoy the feeling of being in the air, feeling like she could reach out and touch the star or hold the moon. They slip inside via the highest balcony, Star transforming into a mouse and riding on her shoulder as Asha sneaks through the castle. They are only spotted by Lulu who tries to eat Star before Asha reaches the study and slams the door, the cat slamming its face into it.

Said study is empty and at first Asha thinks to skim through the books for answers but Star notices the door. Transforming into a flea he slips under the door and opens it from the other side. It leads down a dark stair case with a golden light at the bottom. The two share a glance before starting to go down-only for green light to envelope them both and drag them back up the stairs into the study.

The King and Queen are standing there, Lulu on Amaya’s shoulder, clearly the one who had warned them of the intruders. Magnifico tells Asha she didn’t have to sneak in to deliver them a star, the young girl immediately puts herself between her friend and the king. She tries to tell them he’s not like they think, he’s a good kind person who helped people grant wishes without asking for anything in return. But with his staff Magnificio wraps the green energy around Star like chains and Amaya drags Asha away from him. They call Asha a fool if she thinks they’d let one little star ruin the years of work they’ve put into maintaining their kingdom. That they picked what wishes are to be granted. That the people worshiped them. Asha is forced to realize the kind rulers she wanted to be like-are a lie. Magnifico comments to his wife that Star’s power could be very useful to them. In an act of desperation Asha kicks out, knocking the staff out of the king’s hand. Amaya, not expecting Asha to lash out, looses her grip on her. Once the staff hits the ground the green chains evaporate and Star transforms into a giant golden bird, grabs Asha and flies out of one of the study’s high windows.

Magnifico is furious that they got away but Amaya calms him down, reminding him that the people of Rosas would not believe those two over their loving rulers. She remarks that maybe it’s time to grant Lulu’s wish. Magnifico agrees and his magic mutates the cat into a sabortoothed giant tabby that runs out of the room to go hunt down Asha and Star. The king and queen reprise the segment of Welcome to Rosas dedicated to them, now in a minor key with new context.

Asha and Star escape into the forest, where they first met(they are next to a lake). Asha is crying, heartbroken and scared over what will happen next. Her whole goal in life was built around a lie. How will they stop people as powerful as the royal couple?

Author’s note here; this is a part where I’m not sure how to go about it. My idea is Star comforts Asha and it will lead into a duet, because the demo version of At All Costs is heavily romantic-coded and is perfect to show how much the two have grown to care for each other. But my version of Star is mute so I haven’t figured out how to work around that besides the song being sung over them instead of being sung by them. So please hold that thought

The two share a romantic scene, flying in the sky, dancing among the clouds and coming this close to sharing a kiss.

They are interrupted by the arrival of Lulu who tries to attack them, Star transforms into a giant cat as well, putting himself between Lulu and Asha. But before the Queen’s cat can attack them, Dahlia and the others suddenly appear via carriage and accidentally knock the giant cat into the lake. Lulu splutters out of the water and runs back to Rosas.

The gang tells the two they saw Star flying away and then the king and queen made an announcement that Asha is a traitor and trying to usurp them and ruin Rosas. The news not sitting right with the group they decided to follow, worried for the two. Asha is grateful for their help and touched when they point out its what friends are for. But now they must go hide because the whole town will be looking for them.

On the way back Asha tells them what had happened. Like her they are shocked the king and queen could be villains, but they also don’t think Asha and Star are liars. So they have to make a plan to figure out what the two are hiding and, if necessary, defeat them. (What I Know Now, which adds in a segment for the king and queen ‘lamenting’ that their people don’t know what’s best for them). There is a short moment during this song where it’s revealed Valentino knows sign language, having learned to read from Asha reading to him-and making a point to read books before he eats them. Asha tells him there’s a saying she’d like to learn but the scene cuts before we learn what it is.

The plan is that Star will dash the group with some dust to make them glow and they’d run through the town and forest ‘pretending’ to be Star. This would serve to distract the king and queen long enough for Asha and Star to go back to the study and go through the door. Star also gives Asha a stick and blesses it with his magic for her use. The plan is going off without a hitch, Asha while trying to find information in the study comes across a small journal. She reads it aloud as they open the secret door and go down the stairs:

Years ago, Magnifico wished for magic. A star came down to grant his wish, admiring his ambitions. However Magnificio turned on the star and trapped her, now absorbing her power to grant peoples’ wishes. They reach the bottom of the stairs to see an older woman chained to the ground; the star from the journal. Asha and Star are horrified by this revelation, but before they could free her Magnifico appears having expected them to come back.

Asha accuses him of lying about the stars being malicious, and the king instead says the stars were too scared to risk coming down to grant a human’s wishes. “Except that one, it seems.” He glares at Star and tells him that he would be his new battery and help lead Rosas to even more triumphs. In fact, why stop at Rosas? He could grant wishes of people all over the world, they’d be so grateful they’d do whatever he asked.

Furious Asha lunges at him but Magnificio stops them with his staff and drags them back upstairs to where Amaya is waiting. He offers Asha to his queen, not needing her. Amaya then reminds the young girl of the history of Rosas, how there was a monster that terroized the people…Asha watches in horror as Amaya transforms into a large dragon-esque creature. She is able to escape the study and Amaya chases after her. Star, furious and terrified transforms into his own version of a golden dragon-esque creature and manages to escape Magnifico’s grasp.

Asha is chased outside, nearly killed by Amaya before Star arrives and knocks her away. While the two giants fight Asha hurries back inside to deal with Magnifico.

We cut to a scene of Dahlia and co being surrounded by the villagers, but the townsfolk are starting to waver having seen how much happier the group is thanks to Star granting their wishes. Lulu then appears, prepared to eat them. Valentino, leading an army of the animals Star befriended, chases the big cat off into the woods. Disillusioned the townsfolk follow Dahilia, Valentino, and co back into town to witness the rest of the battle.

Asha, still brandishing the wand Star gave her, witnesses Magnifico dragging the star out of her cell and absorbing so much of her magic that the woman loses the rest of her glow and falls to the ground. Asha tries to attack him but the king teleports the two of them to the roof, ready to throw Asha off and strike Star with his magic. Asha is able to use her wand to keep him from hurting her or Star, but eventually he is able to snatch the wand from her and break it. Desperate, Asha tries to physically wrestle the staff away from him.

Suddenly there’s a scream, Amaya having bit down on Star’s neck. Magnificio moves to fire at Star to finish him off, but Asha with her own hands still on the staff is able to redirect it and the blast hits Amaya instead. She is evaporated and Magnifico cries out in horror and rage. However the damage is done for Star, transforming back into human form he floats up to Asha slowly losing his golden glow. He holds her cheek for one moment before falling on the roof, completely gray and presumed dead. Asha cries and hugs him, unable to believe this is how the story ends. But then Magnifico grabs her with his magic and drags her away, Asha desperately trying to fight against it, only able to hold onto Star’s hand. The king summons storm clouds to completely cover the sky, vowing revenge against the entirety of Rosas, against the entirety of the world for killing Amaya.

All seems lost, yet Asha starts to softly sing (This Wish (Reprise)), and after a few moments her friends and the townspeople below start singing along, wishing for Star to be revived. We have a short scene of the star woman waking up and hearing the singing from outside. But everyone's sincerity in the wish allows Star to be revived, glowing brighter than ever. Asha, relieved and full of hope, gets up to face against Magnifico. He tries to shoot her with magic but Star’s glow serves as a wall of protection for her, and as she slowly walks toward the man he gets more frantic and desperate, unable to see because of Star’s bright light. He continues to step back until he reaches the edge, loses his balance and starts to fall, Asha grabs his staff as the man vanishes into the roiling ocean below. She then shatters the staff on the roof. The magic shoots out into the sky, wishes given to Magnifico returned to its owners and the star woman brought back to her full strength.

Star is flying around the sky, ecstatic. Asha calls his attention and we see her sign/say the words: “I love you.” (having learned them from Valentino). It is like a firework goes off as Star happily picks her up and twirls through the sky with her, Asha laughing gleefully before finally kissing him.

When the two return to the ground they receive a group hug from their friends. They find the broken stick Magnifico had tossed and Asha apologizes to Star for breaking it, but he simply puts it back together. Dahlia comments that her magic use was pretty impressive considering she had had no real experience. Valentino smugly saying she was greater than the former king. It’s then Asha realizes that Star had helped grant her wish-she just needed to meet him halfway. He winks at her when she makes this realization.

The star woman then appears, stepping out of the castle, looking poised and formidable. Asha tells the townspeople what Magnifico and Amaya had done to her and the people are filled with shame that she had suffered right under their noses. Asha gives her a formal apology and after a moment the star woman nods and smiles kindly, having been impressed by the goodness in these humans. She had thought they would all be vile like the king and queen.

She starts to float, planning on going back to the sky. She looks expectantly at Star, expecting him to come with. Asha is stricken at the thought but reassures him she wouldn’t be like Magnifico and force him to stay. In response Star holds Asha’s hand and gives the star woman a resolute look. She blinks, looking a bit surprised, but then nods and even gives them a small curtsy as if they were royalty. She then shoots upward to become the brightest star in the sky.

At the epilogue Asha and Star are learning all they can on how to lead Rosas, the town wanting them to be their new king and queen. She is getting better at her magic and signs fluidly. They have Dahlia and co be a sort of council for them. With Star’s encouragement people are doing their part to make their wishes come true. Valentino is in charge of Lulu who is going through a program to be nicer, it’s a work in progress.

The final shot is Asha and Star standing at the balcony, sharing a kiss as the scene pans up to show the night sky. The stars look brighter than ever.

Credits roll.

#disney wish #wish rewrite #star #asha #asha x star #fan writing

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