#last time i got a needle to the eye to deal with it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

itostea · 4 months

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my first & last love (gojo x reader)

satoru realizes he's in love with you after you suggest he set you up with suguru

tags: fem! reader, Gojo praises you like A LOT! slight miscommunications, childhood friends to lovers, reader gets drunk & satoru helps, he's a lovesick idiot & dramatic, both yours & his pov, gojo’s implied to be taller than reader, slightly suggestive bc it’s gojo, slight angst

word count: 11k

The first time Gojo Satoru learned true, unadulterated jealousy was on a Friday night out in his sports car–the crickets chirping to the melody of a random song.

It was real jealousy—not just simple, petty envy. Not like the envy he felt when someone got to taste the limited edition cupcakes at the bakery before he did or the envy of studying hard and getting a lower score than someone who didn’t (which is a lie because Gojo was that very person who was effortlessly good at everything he did).

Either way, he’s never felt the bite of jealousy, breaking the flesh as blood drips slowly, lingering as if it could never be washed away from his skin. Never felt it smother his throat with needles and leave him with a metallic taste in his mouth. That is, until today.

It was colder than usual but he still insisted on grabbing some ice-cream from the local convenience store, declaring it was his your reward for putting up with the party Sukuna hosted–the same party that ended in your dress being soaked in vomit. The atmosphere was perfect for sentiment, for talking–for confessing.

You’re humming to the beat of the song, licking your lips clean of the ice cream you just ate. “Satoru,” you murmur his name softly, staring at him through your lashes.

“Yeah?” His eyes drink in the sight of you: your droopy eyes from sleep, the faded lip tint on your lips, the hoodie he let you borrow that’s obviously a few sizes too big on you. There’s hardly any light coming in but he can still feel your eyes on him, the tension so thick he thinks he might suffocate from it.

For a moment, he’s scared, fearful of what you were going to say because he knows this silence. This is the very silence that happens before someone confesses to him, the same suspense that he has to mentally prepare himself for since he knew he was going to break another heart. And he’s terrified that he might have to do it to you–his friend, his neighbor, someone who he’s known for a very long time.

“I need to tell you something,” you start and he winces, shifting uncomfortably on the driver’s seat.

“You do?” He mutters. You’re nervous. He can tell because he’s known you long enough to understand what you’re feeling–long enough to know that your eyes are darting from place to place, a habit of yours.

His chest squeezes when you take a deep breath just as he exhales, already making his mind to grant you a swift rejection. He hopes you can forgive him after this.

“--I like Getou and I need your help.”

“Listen, I’m sorry but I just don’t see you that way–”

He blinks, wondering if he heard you right or if he was drunk (he didn’t drink at the party because he was your ride home). “Wait what?”

It was your turn to blink now. “I like Getou and I–”

“I heard you the first time,” he cuts you off hastily, clearing his throat to play it cool. He runs a hand through his hair, grazing the side of his undercut. “Okay wow.”

Gojo mentally curses himself for not knowing what else to say other than humming pensively, busying himself by mixing the ice-cream in the tiny container. He still needs time to process, to mentally upload your words to his brain. You like Getou and not him? He pauses, repeating that thought again.

You like Getou and not him. Part of him tells himself that this is exactly what he wanted since your friendship wouldn’t go to ruin. You managed not to catch feelings for him–managed not to fall for him like many others. Yet, he’s confused when another part of him doesn’t respond too well once he realizes that this was you he was dealing with.

“That’s not weird right?” You question, bringing your knees up to your chest and propping your chin atop of them to watch his reaction–reminding him to keep it cool.

“Nah it’s not weird at all,” he said, not thinking straight when his next words escaped his lips. “So why Suguru?” And not me? Though, he keeps that last part to himself.

“Well isn’t it obvious? He’s tall, handsome, and has a good personality.”

Am I not that? He asks himself, not bothered by how stuck up he may seem. “That’s not very specific from someone who likes him.”

You huff and he can tell you’re narrowing your eyes at him. “I know you don’t wanna hear me yap about the specifics, Satoru.”

“I do.” He says quickly.

You make a noise of surprise, looking interested in his sudden intrigue. “Well okay… Suguru’s very caring and attentive. Being around him makes me feel warm inside you know? I’m not sure when I started liking him but I just know that I just really want to be closer to him. And it doesn’t help that he’s just so smart and nice. And his looks are just a bonus.”

“Oh,” he utters, not even bothering to curse himself for his lack of response. He tries a weak smile. “You must really like him.”

Gojo can’t help but furrow his brows at the semi-embarrassed expression you wear—as if you were flustered at the mere thought of having a crush. “Oh, was I that obvious?” You ask, not even bothering to deny the fact that you were undoubtedly head over heels for his best friend.

Oh god, he thinks he might be sick and he doesn’t know why.

“Are you going to help me?” Your voice cuts him out of his reverie and he’s cut back into reality–the reality being the anticipation in your eyes. Did you always look this pretty?

Gojo nearly flinches at the thoughts that cross his mind, blaming the unprocessed shock for being the cause of these obscure ideas. He coughs. “Hold on. So you don’t like me right?”

“What? No I–” your eyes widen in understanding. “Oh so that’s what that was all about. You thought the person I liked was you! How cocky can you be to think everyone’s in love with you?”

“It’s not cocky if it’s true. I’m just really lovable y’know?”

You let out a sarcastic laugh. “That can’t be true since I’m not everyone.”

I know, he thinks to himself, staying silent as he watches you shuffle in your seat. He didn’t just dislike this idea you proposed, he hated it. It wasn’t hard to just decline and keep it like that–let you figure your feelings on your own.

Yet, something about the near-pleading look in your eyes made him reconsider and it filled him with an urge to smooth the wrinkles on your expression. He sighs loudly, rubbing the invisible crease in between his brows. “Well I guess you came to the right person because I’m an expert at this. 5 star ratings and all that. But what makes you think I’m going to do this for free?”

“Uh the goodness of your heart?”

“Cute,” he laughs. “But no. I want a coffee from the place everyday for a month.”

“What?! Are you insane? That means I’d have to wake up early everyday to get in line!”

He shakes his head, waving his finger around with a disappointed expression. “A small price for love.”

“I don’t understand why you even need me for that. You can buy the whole shop yourself, ass,” you whisper the last part behind your palm, making his eyes light up in amusement.

“What was that?”

“Nothing. Actually you know what? Fine,” you huff. “You’re right. It is a small price for love. But I’m not walking back and forth around campus to deliver your coffee.”

“I got that covered,” he grins, already coming up with a plan in his head. He likes this, the banter you two typically enjoyed. It made your duo, a duo. In a normal situation, he’d relax and continue bothering you. Still, the feeling of dread gnaws at his throat and he tries to swallow it–tries to ignore it by pretending to be the same, goofy Gojo you’re used to. And he’s starting to think it’s hard to do that when you look up at him with such genuine gratitude.

“Satoru.”

“Hm?”

“Thank you, I mean it.”

Gojo feels that emotion again, that visceral feeling where he might go sick and vomit all over the car. “Yeah.”

He thinks he would’ve preferred if you confessed to him instead.

Gojo wonders if stress (if you can call that) is enough to make someone wake up with a hangover the next day. He didn’t drink last night but he thinks he might have–considering the headache that was interrupting his morning.

He’s in the middle of downing a glass of water when his phone buzzes, your name popping up as a notification.

(Name): i’m gonna get ur coffee pls come

Him: come ??? cum

(Name): it’s too early to be doing this

He sees the bubbles appear before they disappear for a while, only popping up again when he’s in the middle of cracking an egg over the pan

(Name): SATORU

(Name): OHMYGOD SATORY SOI SOS

Him: WHAT

Him: HELLO???

(Name): GETOUS HERE OMG IM GONNA

(Name): HE SAID HI TO ME

(Name): WHAT DO I DO?

Gojo grips his phone a bit tighter, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. He sighs.

Him: say hi back

Him: and then go PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

(Name): no wtf and i meant what do i after this silly

(Name): i don’t know what to do im literally an npc rn

(Name): jk he just said bye :(

Him: should’ve done what i told u to do

Another name pops up from the top and his eyes scan the name, his brows raising in curiosity. He huffs at the message, feeling a wave of nausea cross him.

Suguru: You’re close friends with (Name) right?

Him: yeah why

Suguru: Nothing

It’s silent for a few seconds and Gojo’s back to eating his eggs, tempted to pop a Tylenol to ease the growing headache. Contrary to popular belief, he was against the reliance of pain-relieving meds, opting to let his body figure things out on its own. Luckily for him, having food in his stomach was enough to relieve the headache.

His mind wanders back to the night in the car where you told him to help you with your crush on his best friend–not fully coming to terms with the fact that he wished you liked him instead. Since when did he start feeling this way and why did he need another man to make him realize he liked or even loved you? The thought of anyone having you for themselves was like hearing the sound of nails against a chalkboard and he was jealous. He finally admitted it.

Gojo Satoru wasn’t an idiot when it came to his feelings and he’d be a fool if he kept denying his undeniable irritation that came with your crush for Suguru. He places the unwashed dish atop some other bowls and utensils, reminding himself to get to that later since his priority was not to keep you waiting at the coffee shop.

Another buzz and Satoru nearly trips over his feet at the dread he gets from seeing his best friend’s message. Are you kidding me? He thinks to himself as he reads the message again.

Suguru: She’s cute

Yeah, he thinks he might be sick again.

Music’s playing in the background to substitute the sound of chatter that’d usually fill the room if Shoko were here. It wasn’t rare for Shoko to not flake on parties and it was even rarer for you to leave your comfort zone and go to one–especially the last one hosted by Sukuna; but this one was different. Suguru was the host and you’d be an idiot to miss it.

You flinch at the feeling of your mascara poking the inside of your eye, cursing quietly as you take a q-tip to fix the mistake.

The buzz of your phone makes you freeze.

Gojo: omw to ur house

Gojo: ill be there in 10

You: wait satoru don’t get mad but what do i wear

Gojo: …

Gojo: YOU DIDNT LIKE THINK ABOUT THAT AN HR AGO?

You: I WANNA STAND OUT TO ATTRACT THE LOML OKAY?

You: so i need ur opinion

Gojo: dude

Gojo: ok

Gojo: just wear whatever u want it’ll be fine

You: yeah but what specifically?

Gojo: not smth that makes you look like a grandma

Gojo: like that dress u wore to the last party

Gojo: no offense

You: but i liked that dress :((((

You: was it that bad?? I mean i had to throw it out bc of the vomit anyways

Gojo: it made u look like a grandma but in a good way

You: wow okay thanks

Gojo: you looked nice

Gojo: ANYWAYS

Gojo: a pair of jeans

Gojo: and that light blue long sleeve that shows ur shoulders

You: really?

Gojo: yeah and i’m leaving my apartment now so hurry up

You like the message, tapping your lips to even out the lip tint before you rush to put on the shirt and jeans. Doing a quick double-take in the mirror, you spin once and prop your hands on your hips, snapping a few selfies to commemorate this day.

You’re not sure how much time passes until you hear excessive honking outside, the sound of your phone buzzing as you see Gojo’s caller id. It’s enough to make your eyes roll as you grab your bag–leaving the door locked and the lights off.

Gojo’s grin is boyish and teasing as his eyes scan you from top to bottom. “Oh look at you,” he coos. “You’re actually wearing what I told you to wear.”

“Well I felt like listening today,” you murmur, feeling a small ripple of embarrassment pass you.

“Atta girl.”

“Shut up,” you mumble, feeling a grin form when you hear him chuckle. He puts his car into reverse mode, propping his arm on the top of your seat. Up close, you can get a stronger whiff of his cologne–its musk and earthiness slowing your heartbeat, calming you. Your eyes scan his outfit: a black pullover layered atop white t-shirt, paired with a pair of pants that were on the edge of being joggers and trousers.

On anyone else, the outfit wouldn’t have done them good like it did with Gojo. To your displeasure and awe, he looked effortlessly classy. And if he noticed your lingering gaze, he didn’t mention it.

“What’s your game plan?” His voice draws you back to reality and you watch as he sets the car back into drive mode.

“Game plan?”

“That’s right,” he glances at you, his shades sliding lower on his nose bridge. “Your plan to seduce the love of your life.”

“I’m not going to seduce him!” You gape, narrowing your eyes at his widening smile. His hand reaches down to turn the volume of the song a bit louder, stopping at the upcoming red light.

“I’m just joking with you,” he laughs, his eyebrows furrowing slightly before that smile returns to his face, not quite meeting his eyes like it usually does. He sighs before breaking into a laugh that almost sounds bitter. “I’d pay to see that though.”

At the party, you’d imagine yourself “mingling” with the crowd and letting loose–being the life of the party. Unfortunately for you, your feet are still stuck on the kitchen floor and you’re glued to Gojo’s side. You’d like to blame it on the vomit incident from Sukuna’s party and you’re fortunate enough to not be known as the “girl that someone threw up on.”

Either way, you weren’t especially fond of the fact that you were keeping Gojo from having fun somewhere else. Like in one of the unoccupied rooms upstairs or in the living room playing some drinking games. It’s enough to make you feel somewhat guilty and suddenly regretful that you even came to this party.

You tap his shoulder in the kitchen, offering him a reassuring smile. “Satoru. You don’t have to stay with me. I can manage myself!”

“That’s what you said last time,” he chuckles, rummaging through Getou’s fridge to search for something sweet, frowning when he sees traditional Japanese snacks that his grandparents would eat. “What the hell?” He murmurs to himself.

“I mean it,” you say, taking a few steps back. “You have some fun. I don’t want to bother you too much.”

“You’re not–”

“Satoru. (Name),” a velvety voice greets, all too familiar. A warmth spreads over you. “You made it.”

“Getou,” you murmured to yourself, glancing at Gojo who was already staring at you.

For a second, you see a subtle tick in his jaw, a sight you blame on the lighting since he’s back to normal the moment he turns to face Getou. He grins that teasing smile of his. “Suguru.”

“You looking through my fridge again, Satoru?” The brunette huffs, kicking the fridge’s door shut lightly–exchanging the grin with his friend. Your heart squeezes as he casts a lingering look at you, his smile polite. “Hey (Name). Good seeing you here.”

“Huh?” You perk up. “Oh you too?”

You inwardly curse at yourself for how awkward you were, giving Gojo a scathing look as he hides his laughter behind his palm. Luckily for you, Getou’s sweet and he was also good at redirecting topics. “You want something to drink?”

“Oh sure,” you blink, offering a thankful smile. “Thank you Getou–”

“Suguru.”

You pause, cocking your head to the side in confusion. “Sorry?”

“Call me Suguru,” he hands you a red, plastic cup–his smile pretty enough to make your breath hitch. “We’ve known each other long enough.”

You feel your heart race as he looks at you expectantly, as if you knew what he wanted you to do next. You fidget, suddenly more bashful at the attention he was giving you. “Thank you Suguru.”

“No problem,” he smiles and you like how he looks satisfied with you. He hands another red cup to Satoru who stood beside you, the sarcastic grin of his returning. You take a tentative sip of the booze, watching curiously as Satoru and Suguru talked amongst themselves–reconnecting despite seeing each other only a day ago.

You observe the two of them, mapping the details of Suguru’s face before your eyes land on Satoru–suddenly aware of the fact that the boy you spent most of your youth with grew up. Sure, you know that his face attracts attention from everyone but that was a token from childhood. It just didn’t hit you that he matured, grew up to be the man most would dream of dating. The realization is to make you wonder if Gojo ever registered the fact that you were growing too.

Slowly, you take another sip of your drink, blinking slowly as the alcohol settles in your system. Gojo’s the first to notice when you stumble, how your skin seems to heat up. “Hey hey,” he holds you by the shoulders, his voice soft. And if you paid closer attention, you would’ve seen the way Getou’s brows raised at how gentle his friend was acting towards you. “You okay?”

Amidst your drunken state, you realize that Gojo didn’t bother drinking any of the liquor in his cup during his conversation with Suguru. And Suguru. Sweet Suguru who puts the pieces together and confirms that you’re a lightweight, the guilt evident in his expression. “Oh shit. I forgot how strong this liquor is.”

“I’m okay,” you mumble and step forward, ready to excuse yourself to the restroom. Gojo looks like he’s about to say something until a group of unfamiliar faces barge into the kitchen, their faces bright as they greet Getou and Gojo with intentions to keep them occupied. Among the chatter and crowd, you find it easy to slip away–rushing to find a restroom.

The first one you went in was already used by a couple that you remembered mumbling apologies to. The others were either locked or used. At some point, your gut told you to go upstairs and you staggered into an unoccupied bathroom where you splashed cold water on your face–sighing at how nice it felt against your skin.

The music’s only a fraction of its noise from up here and you’re surprised that there’s not much of a group upstairs. There’s a funny feeling in your stomach as you crouch slightly, mentally cursing yourself for downing the whole cup so quickly, ruining your chances to talk with Suguru–coherently at least. Part of you wants to sulk over your spoiled opportunities but another part of you just wants to crash on the tiled floor and sleep–rest your eyes for a bit.

You’re thankful your mind was still conscious enough to rationalize the unsanitary conditions of the bathroom floor, opting to curl up in one of the hallways instead–shivering at the feeling of cold marble beneath you. Your eyes droop, a yawn escaping you. And you’re almost certain you would’ve fallen asleep if not for the gentle shaking of your shoulders.

“Stop,” you whine softly, your vision blurry as you catch a glimpse of hair the color of snow and a pair of worried filled blue eyes. Your protests turn quickly to bemusement. “Satoru? What are you doing here?”

You think he smiles as he kneels down on one knee to be eye level with you. “How about I get you off the ground first?”

“I don’t wanna. Let me sleep here,” you shake your head, ignoring how your body felt warm at how softly he treated you.

“C’mon,” he chuckles. “The ground’s dirty. Let's get you to a bed at least.”

In your drunken state, your mind still decides it favors a soft comforter over cold marble and you see his eyes soften when you go limp in his arms–letting him lift you from the ground. “Good girl.”

Your mind goes fuzzy at the sound of that and you’re not sure if it’s the alcohol or something else that makes your temperature rise. In that simple moment, you let his arms wrap around you, cradling you to his chest as he makes his way downstairs. All your thoughts stop as your eyes close, drowning the sound of the party out as you permit sleep to take over. His hands give your thighs an occasional squeeze, the gesture oddly intimate yet you don’t bother questioning it or objecting to it.

Even with the veil of sleep dropping on your form, you still recognize Suguru’s voice as he tells Satoru to take care of you, his tone apologetic–having been the one to give you the liquor. They talk for a bit and once more, you feel the bounce of each step as he carries you out the house.

You’re barely awake when Gojo puts you in the passenger seat and you feel disappointment wash over you when he stops holding you. You’re not sure when you grabbed onto the sleeve of his shirt, your eyes half-lidded as you peered up at him. “Don’t go.”

A noise of protest escapes your lips when he removes your cold hand from his shirt gently, rather taking it in between his warmer ones. “I won’t.”

“Satoru.”

“Hm?”

“I like when you compliment me.”

“Oh yeah?” He says, laughing a bit. “It’s hard not to.”

The music and cheers in Suguru’s house are still audible even in Gojo’s car, your vision getting darker and darker with each blink. Still, you can still feel Gojo’s hand gripping yours–his thumb rubbing circles on the skin as you invite sleep back in, taking deep breaths as you breathe in his cologne.

And as sleep came to life, you allowed the dreams to live as well.

Was there such a thing as a relationship between dreams and memories? In moments of delirium, you can’t single out what’s real and what’s not–was it a dream or did it actually happen?

But now that days have passed and you’ve given yourself more time, you’re certain that Gojo was the one who carried you out of the house and spent his night caring for you. So you ruled out the possibility that the night was a dream, rather a memory that made you feel soft inside–grateful yet unsure. And if you wanted to ponder harder, you would’ve done so if not for the hell you were experiencing this week.

Forgetting the content during a quiz. Getting yelled at by your boss. Having stepped in bird shit. Waking up late nearly every day because you’d forget to put your alarm on.

If that wasn’t enough, you got in an argument with your parents over the phone. It was about something stupid and you were so frustrated that you ended up walking to some 7/11–buying yourself an ice-cream to cheer yourself up. The argument was so dumb and you weren’t even sure what you guys were even arguing about. All you knew that you should probably call them later to talk it out; you also knew that this week couldn’t get any worse.

What was Satoru doing right now? You think to yourself, pulling out your phone to check your messages–frowning when you saw none from him. Your eyes land on a message from Suguru, seeing the link he sent you to some video he found funny or intriguing. After the party, you were shocked to see an unknown number texting you, claiming it was Suguru and that Satoru gave your number to him. The day that happened, you texted him using exclamation marks and thanked him–smiling at your phone as you two exchanged witty messages with one another.

You sighed, unlocking your phone and clicking Satoru’s contact and phoning him. You almost hang up after several rings but you hear his voice after the nth ring. “Hello?”

“Satoru?” You say, your voice cracking the second your lips part to speak. You weren’t expecting to cry and neither did Satoru–though you can hear the concern laced in his voice as he questions your whereabouts.

“Where are you sweetheart?” You hear rustling in the background amidst his voice and your sniffles. “I’ll pick you up. Your location’s shared with me right?”

“Mhm,” you wipe your eyes, fidgeting with the hem of your hoodie.

“Okay just stay there and don’t go anywhere. I’ll be there in a few. Don’t cry (Name).”

You think you might cry harder with how sweet his voice was.

Satoru thinks he might be the only one who notices the rift between you and him. And he’s not sure if he’s the one causing it or if it’s you. But after that night with you (in his car again), he’s been thinking about how soft you were in his arms; how he liked the way your head drooped against his chest. Or maybe he likes you but he’s not going to think about that unless he wants another headache.

Regardless, he finds himself looking at his phone sporadically, subconsciously eager to see your name pop up unexpectedly–eager for things to go back to normal. Even though you two still speak, he’s almost sure that he’s not imagining the awkward tension in the air.

Was he too intrusive when he carried you out to his car? Were you mad at him because he didn’t leave Suguru and you alone in the kitchen? It was a selfish thing to do, he admits. His original idea was to leave you alone with Suguru so you’d get to chat with him–get to know him like you intended to do at the party; but seeing Suguru give you that sly smile of his was enough to make Gojo ditch his plans of playing Cupid.

If Gojo was a good man, he’d feel happy that you were getting what you wanted since he knew you weren’t the only one interested. Like with the message Suguru sent to Satoru and how he eyed you at the party; how he called Satoru over for a bit and told him that he understood why people liked you or found you attractive; how he commented on how the shirt you wore suited you.

No shit, I picked it, he thought to himself as he recalled that night. Satoru always knew you were beautiful and he hated that everyone else knew too. You weren’t even his yet but he didn’t want to share you–to let anyone else hold you or have you. Seeing you blush and smile shyly at his best friend made him want to puke—made him want to claw his eyes out. That should be him and god he wishes it was.

He was selfish yet he never promised to be good. Yet, this was for you. He wanted you to be happy, is what he told himself whenever he saw you and Suguru talking.

His phone buzzes and it’s almost embarrassing how quickly he snatches it, the anticipation in his eyes fading when he sees that it’s Suguru messaging him about the party today. Satoru sighs, rubbing the spot between his brows as he leans on the kitchen counter, suddenly reminded that he planned a party at his place today. It was an impulsive decision to forget about the tension between you two and Satoru’s kinda wishing he took the time to talk it out with you rather than planning something else.

He invited a good amount of people and was going to invite you as well to give him a reason to call you. But lucky for him, you made things easier for him by calling him. Satoru thinks it’s not healthy for his blood temperature to rise just at the sight of your name on his phone and he’s already grinning when he picks up. “Hello?”

“Satoru?”

Oh. He pauses, his brows furrowing at how your voice cracked as you tried to hide your sniffles. His first thought was to wonder who made you sad and he thinks it’s scary how hearing you cry was enough to send his emotions in a frenzy. But you needed him and he didn’t want you to be alone. “Where are you sweetheart?” He asks, the nickname flowing off his tongue before he can stop. “I’ll pick you up. Your location’s shared with me right?”

“Mhm,” You mumbled back and his heart nearly snapped in two with how dejected you sounded. He frowns, grabbing his jacket and his keys–rushing to slip on his sneakers.

“Okay just stay there and don’t go anywhere. I’ll be there in a few. Don’t cry (Name).”

You make a sound of understanding and he hangs up, his finger tapping to click on Suguru’s contact. Satoru hears other familiar voices in the background but he doesn’t pay much attention to it.

“What’s up Satoru–?”

“Party’s off.”

“What? Wait what are you–”

“Sorry something came up. I’ll tell you later,” he says, hanging up before his friend can say anything else. He knows he should feel bad for flaking out last minute but his list of priorities had you at the top of it. And he really didn’t care if anyone else would understand.

You’re regretting the choice of shorts in the chilly night air and the ice-cream you ate wasn’t helping you shiver any less.

The way Satoru sounded made that warm, fuzzy feeling settle in your stomach again. He sounded like he would drop whatever he was doing just to get to you and it made you feel special. You think back to the sound of “sweetheart” from his lips, shaking your head when you feel your blood get warm.

“(Name)?” Satoru’s voice startles you from your thoughts and you think the sound of it could erase all your troubles. “You alright?” He asks, shrugging the jacket off his shoulders and draping them over your legs, kneeling down to see your face.

You only nod. “I want to go home.”

“Yeah I can take you back–”

“No,” you shake your head. “Back to your place.”

For a moment, you’ve stunned him but that surprise left as fast as it arrived. He sighs, tapping your knee with his finger. “Usually dinner comes first–”

“Not like that you idiot,” you kick him lightly, a grin forming on your lips. “Your methods of comforting are weird.”

“Yeah?” He laughs, the sound blending with the wind. “Well maybe I’m not trying to comfort you,” he eyes you with a teasing glint in his eyes and flashes a lopsided grin. He looked almost sweet as he did sly, the blend making your heart pick up in pace.

You squirm, mustering a tone of nonchalance. “I changed my mind. I’m going back to my place.”

This time he chuckles, his eyes narrowing in amusement. “Nuh uh. It’s my job to wipe that frown off your face,” he says, the corny phrase making you roll your eyes. “C’mon, I’ll be good to you.”

You pretend to think, ignoring the attentive expression he wore. “Fine. I guess I’ll let you take me home.”

“That’s my girl,” he grinned, standing up to his full height. You beam at him, matching his steps as you two reach his door. By the time the two of you were settled at his place, you already spoke to your parents in private–clearing up the misunderstandings like Satoru reminded you to do. You were glad you had him and even more glad that things were falling back to place.

Your eyes scan your surroundings, noticing how he must’ve tidied things up. “Did you clean your place?”

“Hm?” He grabs two mugs from the cabinet. “Oh yeah. I was going to have a party here.”

“Today?”

“That’s right,” he drawls, glancing at you from the corner of his eyes. “I was going to call you to see if you wanted to go.”

“Really?” That was a shock to you. “Are you still gonna have one today?”

“Nah. Canceled it last minute.”

You pause, raising your brows as you try not to jump to conclusions. “Why’d you cancel it?”

“Had better things to do. I'd rather hang out with you anyways,” he says casually, smiling when he finds the packets of hot cocoa. “Found it!”

Did he cancel the party for me? You think to yourself, a bit surprised that you came to that conclusion; but if you were right and he did, you wouldn’t know what to feel other than appreciation and maybe something else. Whether that was true or not, you know that you should be feeling guilt and not giddiness from having him prioritize you. Was it normal to feel this way for Satoru? You’re about to let your thoughts fill your head but you feel your breath hitch at how he seems to lean closer to you.

His hands move you by the hips, the touch barely lasting five seconds. “Sorry I gotta get the spoons,” he murmurs, paying no mind to how you hold your breath. Your eyes fall to his biceps, swallowing a gasp as you see how the black material of his shirt moved with every movement he makes. There was no way he was human when he looked like that.

Oh my god, you think to yourself, suddenly mortified at the fact that you were checking him out. What was wrong with you right now? You always knew Gojo was attractive but you didn’t think he was this attractive. And if he had any idea of your internal conflict he didn’t pay it any mind.

“Can you go get the movie ready for me?”

“Uh huh,” you nod immediately, quickening your pace as you try to distract yourself. By the time he sits next to you, the blankets and snacks are already placed neatly on the living room table. You smile and mutter a thank you when he hands you the mug of hot cocoa.

“Feel better?” He asks, propping an arm on the head of the couch once you’re halfway through the movie: a random romcom you picked to cheer you up. Even as someone who claims he’d rather watch a movie with more action, you think the drama that comes with romcoms intrigues him–much more than he’d like to admit.

You take a sip of your drink, your eyes flitting to him. “Much better.”

“I bet,” he murmurs, his eyes glancing at the way your knees touched. The scene panels to a teary confession the female lead does, the music dramatic with strings in the background. You watch intently, observing the expressions both characters make on screen.

“Y’know, I never understood how they can always come up with a speech like that on the spot,” Satoru comments, plopping a few gummy bears in his mouth. “Isn’t that unrealistic?”

“It’s a movie,” you point out, watching as the male lead hung onto every word the female lead had to say. “It’s not supposed to be realistic.”

“I guess you’re right. But that stuff apparently happens in real life right?”

“Wouldn’t you know? You have people confessing to you all the time.”

“I don’t give them much time to continue speaking,” he shrugs.

You don’t like how uneasy you feel after he says that. “Well, maybe it’s love that makes this kind of stuff happen.”

This earns you an amused snicker. “Of course you’d say that. You gonna do that with Suguru? Confess to him from the bottom of your heart?”

You roll your eyes. “To do that, I’d have to be in love with him.”

“Are you?”

“No,” you give him an incredulous look. “I hardly know the guy. I just really like him.”

He makes a sound of understanding but you feel as if you’re deluding yourself when you see the look of relief cross his face. You turn to him, the movie forgotten all of a sudden. “Would you do that?”

“What? Confess to Suguru with the bottom of my heart?”

“Yeah sure. That’s what I meant.” you huff, seeing his teasing grin form. You sigh. “No like…confess to someone you love.”

He’s quiet, the faraway look in his eyes confirming that he’s deep in thought. You’re not sure why a pang of irritation hits you when you realize that there might be someone Satoru’s in love with. And you’re not sure if it’s because he’s not telling you or because you want to be that someone. You go with the former because you’re supposed to like Suguru.

His eyes wander to meet yours and the tick in his jaw makes you nervous–makes your palms sweaty because he’s never looked at you like that. You’re not even sure words could describe what emotion he had on his face. He smiles–not the smile that’s crooked and boyish. It’s the smile that’s sharp and makes his eyes narrow. “I might.”

“You might?” You ask, hating how breathless your voice sounded to your ears–something that he notices with the way amusement practically glimmers in his eyes. You swallow a gasp when his gaze falls to your lips, quickly flying back to your eyes.

“Maybe,” he whispers and you can’t help but wet your lips, feeling faint when the bright blue of his eyes darkens to black. You don’t flinch when his head tilts, his arm coming to the side to trap you between the couch. His cologne overwhelms you, makes you drunk on him. He’s so close that you can feel his breath hit your face.

“Satoru–”

The sound of your phone buzzing crushes the tension quickly and you let him lean back–looking as if he had more to say. You feel a smidge of disappointment as you grab your phone. “It’s Suguru,” you say and you’re not sure why your inner voice begs Satoru to tell you to ignore the phone call–to act like he cares more.

“Shouldn’t you answer it?” He questions and you hate that sinking feeling in your stomach when he doesn’t even spare a glance at you–as if acting like he wasn’t about to kiss you seconds ago. You can only frown, nodding as you watch him stand up–still not offering you one single look. “I’ll clean up.”

As you glance at your phone, at the name of Suguru appearing on your screen, you hope for the slightest bit of joy–that lovesick feeling you get whenever you’d see him. Yet, it felt wrong. This felt wrong. And apparently, Suguru could tell from your voice that there was something bugging you.

“Is everything alright? You don’t sound too good.”

Your eyes linger on Satoru’s figure moving to the kitchen. You think Suguru mentions something about a date but you don’t pay much attention, not feeling all that bad as you drown out his voice. “Yeah. I’m fine. What were you saying?”

“I was asking if you wanted to go to dinner with me tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at 7 and we can–”

“Sure,” you say, trying to ignore the way your body lurches at your response–as if it didn’t want this. “Sure. I’ll see you at 7.”

You don’t catch what he says when he hangs up, only thinking of how Satoru looked at you when he was leaning closer. The thought doesn’t horrify you as much as it should but you think that if he had kissed you, you probably would’ve kissed him back.

If someone told you a month ago that you were going on a date with Suguru, you would’ve cried tears of joy and celebrated. But now, you’re almost undeniably feeling a wave of indifference hit you and it feels awful. Suguru’s perfect–his sharp features and his charming smile that’d send anyone into a frenzied mess. Or maybe most tend to fixate on how suave he is with his words–mixing the subtlest of flirtations with simple compliments.

He’s everything you could’ve asked for. Yet, you find yourself missing the ruthless beauty you saw in Satoru–the striking blue of his eyes and the rare color of his hair. You find yourself missing the rasp of his voice, how it’d soften that night when he comforted you; you find yourself missing his warm and strong embrace as he took care of you in your inebriated state; you find yourself missing how close he was that night on his couch and how he looked at you.

At some point, you found yourself replaying that scene over and over again. The first few times, you were giddy with hormones as you imagined him leaning closer and kissing you. After a while, you wanted the image gone because it didn’t happen. He pulled away. He let you pick up the call from Suguru. He acted like nothing happened when in reality, a lot did happen. You two were finally breaching the line of friends and he knew that.

So why? That question plagued your mind for days after and every time you think you forgot about it, the memory of him would remind you all over again. And when he only congratulated you when you told him about your date with Suguru you felt betrayed. Why don’t you care? You almost blurted out but technically he did care. After all, he was the one who was trying to set you guys up so why did you suddenly want to change your mind?

You think you might hate him a little for being so good at acting like everything’s normal and you think you might hate more for making your heart beat so fast. Things weren’t supposed to end up like this. You weren’t supposed to imagine your best friend kissing you breathless or taking you on a date.

Everything’s going to fall into place, you tell yourself. You’ve already dolled up and were in the middle of spraying your perfume when Getou messaged you that he was already here. He’s relaxed in the car as you enter the car. This scene feels the same, you think to yourself, recalling the way Gojo greeted you the last time he picked you up.

“You’re wearing the shirt you wore to the party,” Getou points out and you look down at your shirt, gaping at the revelation that you’re wearing the same top Gojo told you to wear. Even with the company of another man, your subconscious still wishes he was here.

“I didn’t even notice,” you mumble, smiling at the brown-haired male as he drives. The small talk is all natural as you two make your way to the restaurant and you’re grateful that Suguru’s such an easy person to talk with. He’s nice. Really nice and you feel almost guilty for not being as enthusiastic as you wanted to be.

It’s only when you’re midway through the meal that he mentions it. “You’re not here.”

“What?”

“Here,” he shrugs, glancing at you with an empty smile. “You’re thinking about something else aren’t you?”

“I’m not–”

“Don’t worry I’m not mad,” he says and you know he’s telling the truth. “I’m curious. What are you thinking about?”

This makes you squirm in discomfort, a bit uneasy at how perfectly he read you. Satoru’s always made comments about Getou’s intuitive feeling for emotions and you’re starting to think he wasn’t exaggerating. “What if I don’t wanna tell you?” You joke.

“Then you’d leave me to assume,” he answers easily, the corner of his lips curling upwards. “I’m not an idiot (Name). I know when a lady’s thinking about someone else in my presence.”

When you try to protest, he only smiles. “Is it Satoru?”

Your silence is enough said. You want to deny him–want to shake your head and utter a firm “no.” But something about the question makes you lose your sense of thought and Suguru understands that too. “Are you in love with him?”

This catches your attention. “No. I like you not him.”

“Aren’t we well past the point of lying now?” He gives a good-natured chuckle. “If you liked me then you wouldn’t have looked at your phone so many times as if you were expecting a call.”

You widen your eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to–”

“Nah I’m really not mad,” he sighs. “But I’m interested in why you didn’t decline my offer for a date.”

You’re silent for a while, musing over his words. “When you called me, Satoru and I were about to kiss. Or well–at least I think we were about to kiss.

“So why’d you pick it up? I know Satoru enough to know that a call from me isn’t enough to make him stop with whatever he’s doing,” he raises a brow and you catch a roll of his eyes as he remembers something.

“It’s because he was the one who was setting us up together.”

Suguru makes a sound of confusion, nodding at you to continue. You take a big breath. “I asked Satoru to help me get with you.”

Getou makes a “o’ with his mouth, nodding in consideration as he processes your words. His pity makes you feel small and you’re finally experiencing the impact tenfold. “Oh (Name).”

“Yeah,” you shrug. “So now I’m pretty sure I messed up the friendship because I was stupid and he’s never gonna like me back–”

“That’s not true,” he stops you, taking a sip from his wine. “Satoru’s different around you.”

“Well that’s because I’ve known him for a while now.”

“Maybe. But he doesn’t go out of his way to help people like he does with you. Even an idiot could notice that.”

“That doesn’t mean he likes me back–”

“You don’t know that yet,” he retorts, that smile of his returning again. “Just like I didn’t know you were in love with my best friend the entire time.”

You wince, swallowing as you peer up at him. You know he didn’t intend for the comment to burn but a small part of you thinks he did it on purpose. The sight of you sulking brings a wider grin to play on his face. “Relax. I’m only playing with you,” he pauses. “I’m a bit jealous that Satoru's got such a cute girl in love with him though.”

His teasing makes you laugh. “What if he doesn’t love her back?”

“Then he’d be an idiot,” he says, giving you a look as he asks for the bill. “If he breaks your heart you know who to go to. I’d be happy to have you for myself.”

You roll your eyes, smiling softly when he coyly smiles. Suguru was kind enough to offer to drop you off at your place but you told him you wanted to see Satoru—bringing a surprised look on the brown-haired male’s face. You’re not sure how apparent it was, but you reeked of anxiety and Suguru was quick to point it out.

“I’ll wait for you,” he says nonchalantly, shooing you with his hand once you stare at him in bewilderment. “Go. Just do me a favor and message me when you guys are gonna get uh intimate.”

“We’re not—“ you click your tongue at his grin. You thank him, rushing to Satoru’s flat—the sound of your heels clicking against the floor.

If you were in a movie, there would be dramatic music playing in the background—perhaps orchestra or a sappy love song. The scene was so cliche but you’re understanding why the protagonists always ran: it was love. You were in love with Gojo Satoru.

You ring his doorbell, fixing your hair as you ready yourself to see him—mentally preparing the script of your confession. Please be home, please be home, please—

The door opens and a plethora of blue looks back at you, the surprise evident in them. You visibly brighten, smiling as you see him. “Satoru I—“

“Satoru?” another voice says from behind him—the voice evidently female. You freeze, feeling as if this image was in slow motion as you see a glimpse of a girl behind Satoru. Your eyes flit to both of them, the speech you prepared in your head drying up like a sore. “Who’s this?”

You hate that you can only watch. “It’s just a friend. Why don’t you go back inside for a bit, yeah?”

She’s so pretty, it hurts. There wasn’t a speck of imperfection on her and the need to curl up in a ball never felt stronger. The girl nods at Satoru, glancing at you in curiosity as she leaves you two alone.

You think you might hate a little bit for looking at you in concern. “Is there something wrong? Are you okay? If something—“

“No. Nothing’s wrong I’m just—“ you say, wishing your voice was louder at this moment. You avoid his eyes, fearing that you’d end up crying in front of him if you continued to stare at him. “I need to go.”

“What? But you just got here—“

“I don’t know why I came here. This was a mistake and I—“ you sigh shakily, turning on your heel to leave.

Satoru grabs you by the wrist, his gaze soft as he shakes his head when he sees you try to pry his hand off of you. “Just tell me what I can do—“

“Suguru’s waiting for me,” you say quickly, ignoring the way his face drops. “He’s outside right now.”

You hold your breath the moment his hand slowly slips off your wrist, taking a few steps back as you make your way outside. Not once do you turn back as you try your best to hold the tears in—ultimately failing as they fall as quickly as they appear.

By the time you reach Suguru’s car, your make-up is already ruined. At first, he snaps his head back at you with a smile, the curve of lips quickly disappearing as he sees your lip trembling. “No?”

“No,” you confirm, sitting back into the car and wiping your tears with a tissue he hands you. There’s no words spoken between you two as he starts the car, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. Ironically, you listen to the soundtrack of “The Other Woman” playing in his car and he’s quick to change the song. He clears his throat.

“I didn’t think he was that stupid,” he says after some time, signaling right as he reaches the stop light.

“He wasn’t,” you murmur. “I was the stupid one for thinking that we could be more than friends.”

After the ordeal a couple nights ago, you’re not even ashamed that you’re blatantly avoiding Gojo like the plague. You even turned off your read receipts for him which you would’ve found so petty if you didn’t feel so frantic at the sound of his name. Originally, you thought he’d put up more of a fight and be more persistent in getting your attention–only you were proven wrong when you didn’t see any of his attempts increasing.

Disappointed, you were caught in a dilemma. You wanted this distance but craved his presence. At some point, your thoughts ran dry and you were in a slump. Were you always this bad at making up your mind?

No. You weren’t. You didn’t think excessively hard when you decided you liked Getou and when you stopped liking him. Nor did you think super hard about your other crushes. Gojo made your brain hurt and if this was love, you’re not sure you really liked it; but it felt so nice to think about how it would feel to be loved by him–to have him kiss you.

Which is why you thought it was a great idea to avoid him because surely time makes the feelings fade. And you hope they fade fast–especially after you saw him with that girl. You bite back your jealousy at the thought of what they did together. Today was supposed to be a mental health day. It was if fate allowed you to have little to nothing to do and you were going to take advantage of it.

The coffee house was ambient with the occasional loud laughter from groups of friends. You were halfway through your book, taking a sip from your drink as you flipped the pages. This was what you were meant for: reading novels in a cafe, keeping a low profile, and protecting your peace.

You’re about midway through the big plot twist until you hear the sound of a chair scraping and your heart freezes in your chest when you see Gojo stare back at you. Only this time, he looks serious and even annoyed.

“I knew I’d find you here,” he begins, tapping his finger nails on the wooden table. You don’t miss the way a few people take a few double-takes when they walk past him. So much for keeping a low profile.

“Gojo,” you acknowledge him awkwardly, fidgeting with the pages of your book.

Your stomach does a flip when his jaw twitches and his eyes cross your face. He sighs, leaning back and adjusting his seating position. “Are you mad at me?”

“Why would I be mad at you?”

“You literally just called me Gojo,” he said and if you were more rational, you would’ve laughed at how childish he sounded over you not using his first name.

“A lot of people call you Gojo,” you point out, still not meeting his eyes.

“You’re not just ‘a lot of people.’ And you always call me Satoru,” he murmurs.

You tense up. There he goes again: treating you like you’re special. It makes you confused and makes your heartbeat skip. You clear your throat. “I’m not mad at you.”

“Then why are you avoiding me?” He says, a bit loudly at that. It was unlike Gojo to attract attention to personal matters in public and the guilt hits you. You were so caught up in your own feelings that you completely ignored how he would’ve felt. Even if he only thought of you as a friend, anyone would’ve felt mad if put in the situation you put Gojo in.

You glance at the curious gazes in the cafe, grabbing him by the hand as you pull him outside to a secluded area. You quickly drop his hand, a bit surprised that he let you even hold it. “What are you talking about?” You ask, not sure why you’re playing dumb.

“You’re avoiding me,” he says, staring down at you. Sometimes, you forget how tall Satoru really is and how his gaze can make anyone feel small. “Did I do something to make you mad?”

You think back to him and the girl. “No you didn’t do anything.”

“Then what the hell is it?” He says, sounding more mad than you initially thought. His eyes scan over your face–observing your pursed lips and aversion from his eyes. He clicks his tongue. “Is this about the other night?”

You really wish you didn’t snap your head so fast to meet his eyes. The other night could’ve meant many things but you knew he was referring to a specific one. “No,” you say and you already know he doesn’t believe you.

“(Name),” he says softly. “Were you jealous?” Hearing him saying it out loud makes you cringe. You shake your head adamantly, trying to muster up the courage to not break eye-contact with him. You wonder if he could hear how loud your heartbeat was. “I’m not jealous. Why would I be jealous?”

“You tell me,” he voices in that tone that tells you that he’s already figured it out. For all the years you’ve known Gojo, you’ve become well-acquainted with his habits and his mannerisms. And you knew him well enough to realize that he wasn’t going to stop with the questions until you told him the truth.

He always did this. Always made sure to pummel the truth out of you and it didn’t matter how dirty he played. “Then why did you go to me in the first place? Didn’t you have Suguru outside waiting for you?”

“I–”

“What was so important about what you wanted to tell me that you left Suguru waiting for you? What was it and why are you so scared that you’re avoiding me?”

“It’s because I like you!” You finally say, knowing that he bested you in this game of his. The regret hits you so hard you feel like running away again. Only this, he doesn’t let you when he pulls you by the shoulder.

“What?” He says breathlessly, his eyes wide with wonder. It’s over, you think to yourself. He’s going to hate you after this because you ruined the friendship.

“I avoided you because I like you,” you admit quietly. “And because I saw you with that girl the other night.”

“(Name)...”

“Stop,” you murmur, feeling the tears form. “Stop. I already know what you’re gonna say, okay? It doesn’t matter anymore.”

You shrug him off, wiping your tears with your sleeve. The plans for “protecting your peace” almost seemed silly now because you couldn’t rewind time and undo all of this. You don’t bother saying goodbye to Gojo as you take your chances in leaving. And you desperately wonder how you were going to move on from this.

Gojo thinks he’s in a fever dream. Your confession stunned him into oblivion and if it weren’t for your tears, he thinks he might’ve stayed in one spot for hours on end. The night you came over, Gojo already had enough on his mind. Seeing you in the flesh made him lose the logical side of his brain and his mind just replayed that night you two nearly kissed.

He remembered being able to taste how nervous you were–how you found purchase on his shoulders as he tried his hardest not to pin you to the couch and kiss you stupid. He remembered how soft you were and how that thought would torture him for days on.

Gojo knew what he did after was an asshole move but he thought the phone call from Suguru served as a reminder that he couldn’t have you. You two were best friends and to ruin that because he wanted you was selfish of him. He was already selfish enough to want to keep you for himself but you wanted Suguru.

That’s why when you came to his place, he was confused. Gojo did something stupid and didn’t want the thoughts of you to keep popping up. He recalled dialing the number of some girl he stopped talking to ages ago just to not have you occupy his mind.

When he saw your brows furrow at the sight of her, he was surprised to say the least. He ruled out the possibility of jealousy early on and just kept it as that. But now, on this chilly afternoon and in some secluded corner, you were confessing to him.

You like him. You like him back. Sure, you didn’t love him like he loves you (or at least he thinks so) but that's besides the point. He collects himself the moment he sees the tears forming in your eyes, panic coursing through him.

Did his silence make you misunderstand? Did you know that he was ready to scream and tell the whole world that he finally got the girl of his dreams? How he was prepared to pull you into a crushing hug and hold you like he had heaven in his arms?

He forgot you weren’t a mind reader and it dawned on him that he caused your tears. He doesn’t want to be the guy who lets misunderstandings marinate nor does he want to be the cause of your fallout. He was going to fix this.

If you thought he was going to let you go that easily then you severely underestimate him. Because Gojo Satoru was willing to fight for your love.

You think you’re in some sappy k-drama when he grabs you by the wrist the second time. If you weren’t crying your eyes out, you would’ve laughed at him and he would’ve laughed with you. But there’s only a wave of frustration when he doesn’t let go. “Satoru let me go–”

“No,” he says with a deadpan and you almost think he sounds desperate. You’re about to say something but he only steps closer. “You can’t run away like you did before. That’s the easy way out–”

“I’m not–”

“You are,” he interrupts. “And I’m not gonna let you because you’re gonna listen to what I have to say.”

You’re almost reluctant to stay silent but you give in when he squeezes your wrist–as if begging you to stay. You sigh. “Fine.”

“Good,” he whispers, racking his brain for what to say. He takes a deep breath. “A while back, I said I didn’t understand how the characters from romance movies always knew what to say in moments like these. You know those super long speeches? It seemed unrealistic to me but I think I understand now.”

You let him continue, clinging onto every word that falls from his lips. “It’s so easy to say stuff like this. When you’re in love with someone, you notice the little things about them. I noticed you and you were the only thing on my mind. You still are the only thing on my mind. Do you get what I mean?”

You watch in awe as he continues, stuttering over some of his words which was so rare for him. “The night you told me you liked Suguru I was so annoyed. I’ve never gotten jealous of Suguru or anyone but I wanted to be the one that you liked. I wanted to be the one that you dressed up for and the one you smiled at. It drove me insane when you went on a date with him and I hate that I didn’t just say fuck it and steal you away sooner.”

He takes a chance to catch his breath, ruffling his hair as he finally flashes you a crooked grin–a mix of embarrassed and boyish. “That girl you saw me with…I never did anything with her,” he admits and you think you might fall over from shock. “I couldn’t. I just kept thinking about you and I wanted you on my mind all the time. I didn’t want to think about anyone else and didn’t want anyone to take your place–”

“What I’m trying to say is that I’m in love with you,” he finally says. “I already said that earlier but I want to say it again. I think I’ve always loved you–even when we were kids. I think little kid me always wanted your attention. I just never knew what I felt until I realized that you weren’t mine–not mine to love. And I don’t think there’s nothing in the world that I want more than you.”

At this point, your mouth is already ready to catch flies as you listen to his ramblings about his affections. You think you might cry. Gojo’s usually not good with words but you can tell how genuine he is–how much he meant this. “Then all those times you helped me with Suguru?”

“I hated doing that,” he huffs. “I swear I was about to punch Suguru every time he called you cute.”

You laugh, feeling jittery all over. “Would you?”

“I’m a bit worried that you like that idea a bit too much.”

You grin, shrugging. “Maybe a little. I guess I should tell you that I really wanted you to kiss me when we were on the couch.”

“You did?” He practically beams, cupping your face with his hand. You feel your stomach do twists when his thumb grazes the skin of your cheek softly, as if this was always normal.

“And I should probably tell you that I love you too,” you say firmly, gaining a rush of confidence. “And you should probably kiss me right now.”

The smile on his face might just be the prettiest thing you’ve seen in the world. He leans in, cupping your face as he presses his lips against yours. The way he holds you makes you feel safe and you think you might love him a little more when he moves his hand to your neck.

You break the kiss. “Does this mean we’re dating now?”

He laughs. “Do I need to kiss you again for you to say yes?”

When you nod, he pulls you in again and again. And if this was his way of asking, you’d say yes each time.

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #satoru gojo #gojo satoru x reader #jjk #fluff #angst #satoru x reader #satoru x you

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fikefries · 1 month

Text

wisdom; matt sturniolo

summary: you had to get your wisdom teeth out, but with your extreme phobia of needles, it wasnt going to be easy. luckily your boyfriend matt and his brothers stick by your side the entire time.

warnings: needles, mentions of rapid breathing, dentists, anaesthesia

the day had come. the day you had been dreading for weeks.

you had to get your wisdom teeth out.

normally, you werent such a wuss, you handled pain and hospitals well.

but needles.

you couldnt stand the sight of needles. their pricky ends and shiny surface making you feel lightheaded at the sight of them.

thats what make you so nervous for today, the part where they had to stab your arm with a huge ass needle to get the IV in.

you were on the way to the dentists office, your boyfriend matt sitting in the drivers seat, your best friend chris in the passenger seat, while you and your bff nick sat together in the back.

all three of them knew of your phobia of needles, so they were trying their best to calm you down before you got there.

"no chris you dont understand, how can i 'chill out' knowing a huge fucking metal pointy thing is going to be stabbed directly into my goddamn bloodflow, have you seen the length of those fuckin needles?" i say to chris frustratedly as he tried to explain to me that it was no big deal.

chris sighed in defeat as he gave up on trying to reason with you.

my nerves were increasing by the second as we got closer and closer to the dentists office.

matt noticed your anxious state and pulled over at the last stop sign before you reached the dentists office. he turned around leaned back to face you, cupping your cheek with his hand, softly caressing your face in an attempt to comfort you and calm you down.

"listen baby, i know you're nervous- i know that alright? but you need to stay calm for me. ill be there with you the entire time okay? theres no need to worry or be scared, nothings going to happen to you. you have us by your side."

you felt nick rub a soothing hand over your back as chris added

"yeah y/n, dont worry if the needle hurts you ill beat it up" making punching motions with his fist.

you couldnt help but giggle at chris's attempt to lighten the mood.

"alright baby you ready to go in?" matt asked softly holding your hand tightly.

"ready" you sighed, knowing there was no getting out of this.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

the lights in the dentists office were blindingly bright white, forcing you to squint your eyes while you walked in. as you entered, you noticed all the dentist equipment sitting on the spotless metal counters, wires of different colours spread out all over the floor, connected to the dental bed.

the dentist was explaining the procedure to you, matt, nick and chris. but his words became more and more muffled in your brain as you look around the room. finally laying eyes on the needles.

matt sensed your change in demeanour as he noticed your breathing became increasingly rapid. he came up behind you, softly hugging your waist and moving you to the spot he was originally, blocking your eyes from the view of the needles. then wrapping an arm around you and tracing soft patterns on your shoulder while glancing at your face every few seconds to make sure you're not panicking, as you both continued to listen to the dentists explanation.

after the briefing about the procedure, it was time for it to actually happen. matt helped you up onto the dental bed, placing his hand on the back of your head to make sure you dont hit it as you lay back.

chris stood to the right of the bed, rubbing soothing circles on your shoulder

"you're gonna kill it y/n" he said supportingly

"yeah unless it kills me" you snorted, joking, making the boys giggle before returning to comforting you with small rubs and words of support whilst the dentist set up his equipment.

chris and nick left the room for a bit, wanting to give both you and the dentist space, as they knew it wouldnt be easy for you.

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it was time. time for the part you were dreading most. you stared at the long silver blade as the dentist filled it with the medicine that needed to be injected into you through the IV, matt standing beside the bed.

"hey- hey y/n, dont look at that, look at me okay." he said as he slowly moved your head towards him, trying to distract you from the needle.

"just look at me okay, youre doing so good baby im so proud of you."

you stared into matts big blue eyes as he gave you soft affirmations, how did you get so lucky?

matt saw the doctor getting ready to insert the needle into your skin, so he pulled your hoodie down to cover your eyes, and cradled your face into his tshirt, running his fingers through your hair, trying to distract you from what was about to come.

"you're doing so good for me baby, the worst parts almost over"

when you felt the cold metal pierce your skin, you leaned further into matt, trying not to embarrass yourself by whimpering or making any embarrassing sounds. as the needle was being pushed deeper in, you squeezed your eyes shut tightly.

"matttt" you groaned, on the verge of tears, muffled by his tshirt.

"i know baby, i know- youre almost done, you did amazing." he reassured you, holding your head into his shirt and smoothing down your hair while he watched you squirm in his embrace, his heart breaking at the sight.

once the IV was fully in, matt slowly loosened his grip on you, pulling you out of his embrace as you leaned back onto the bed, just then you heard the door open revealing chris and nick walking back in.

"you did it y/n!" chris exclaimed, placing a hand on your head

"we're so proud of you" nick added, patting his hand on your leg as reassurance

"that fuckin sucked" you slurred, the anaesthesia kicking in.

"ooh y/n's getting drowsy now, thats the anaesthesia kicking in" nick said

"how do you feel baby" matt asked rubbing your shoulder

"all i can feel is this fucking dumb bitchass needle in my goddamn arm" you replied, words slurring, making the boys break out into laughter at your choice of wording.

"well now the worsts part over baby, you faced your fear so well."

"hmmmm" you hummed in reply, feeling too drowsy to think

through your blurred vision you looked up at the 3 boys

"you guys look the same" you said

"matt.i love you so fuckin much" you added immediately without giving them time to reply

"and chris and nick i love you guys too"

the boys giggled at your sudden affection

"we love you too y/n" nick giggled

'you're so pretty matty" you admired, reaching your hand out to matt's face, making chris and nick giggle.

"you're the prettiest girl in the world baby, and i love you so much, but right now you gotta keep your hands down okay? if you keep your hands still we can get out of here faster and go get ice cream okay" matt retorted

"can we play ayesha erotica on the way home?" you asked innocently, looking up at matt with pleading eyes.

"yes y/n we can play ayesha erotica"

"i wanna go the fuck home" you said, before falling into a deep sleep due to the anaesthesia.

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outside the room

y/n was undergoing the procedure of getting her teeth taken out now, which means the boys had to leave the room.

"matt how do you feel" chris asked, throwing a shoulder around his brother, recording him on his iphone.

"im so proud of her, i know she was scared and i know she'd beeen feeling pain so its a relief that she was able to pull through and face her fears. i knew she could do it shes my girl." matt said to the phone

"thats adorable" nick giggled, before the doctor called them to come back in.

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you were now fully awake, 4 teeth less than before, with gauze in your mouth and a frown on your face

"hi baby, you such an amazing job. im so fucking proud of you right now." matt said as he placed a soft kiss on your forehead, unable to wipe the smile off his face as he admired how cute you looked, mouth swollen, and filled with gauze that made your cheeks puffy, and an adorable frown on your forehead.

"youre crazy y/n, you made that look so easy" nick said rubbing your head.

"can we go home now please" you said grumpily, anaesthesia still now worn off.

"i want this fucking shit out of my body" you said referring to the IV in your arm, as you tried to yank it out.

"WOAH NO- NO Y/N YOU CANT PULL IT OUT" matt exclaimed worriedly.

"baby you need that in you, it helps you not feel the pain in your mouth."

"matt whats this" you asked sticking your tongue out

"thats your tongue baby"

"i cant feel it, or my lips, where are my lips?"

"theyre right here" matt replied as he gently pressed a finger to your lips, giving you the perfect oppurtunity to place a soft kiss on the pad of his finger, making him giggle,

"i want chipotle" you stated bluntly

"no- no chipotle, she cant have any hard foods that may get stuck in her mouth for atleast two weeks, stick to ice creams, soups and mashed potatoes." the dentist told matt, knowing you wouldnt be able to remember this information.

"heard that baby? ice cream and mashed potatoes- doesnt that sound great?"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

you got to leave the dentist in a wheelchair, which was pretty great.

once you got home, matt ordered you chicken noodle soup and fed it to you while you guys watched spongebob, then he cleaned and replaced your gauze, then helped you get changed and into bed, holding you tightly as you both drifted off into sleep.

you could not have asked for a better boyfriend than matthew sturniolo, you really hit the jackpot.

926 notes · View notes

edenavari · 4 months

Text

On the Matter of Mirrors

Eddie is still trying to convince Steve he and Nancy are made for each other. It comes up, like, everytime they hang out, which is all the time, because Steve couldn’t stay away if he wanted to. He doesn’t, but he also wishes Eddie would quit trying to set him up with someone else.

‘Cause, like, here’s the thing. Steve likes girls. He also, he realized sometime after Robin came out to him, quite likes boys. He likes Eddie. Like… Really likes him. Practices pick-up lines in front of the mirror kind of like. Wears a little more black and tousles his hair just right to give himself a subversive edge he never used to have, just the right amount to trigger a subconscious response without appearing to be tweaking his fashion sense at all. Has mastered the art of wearing eyeliner without looking like he’s wearing it, and it took him a fucking while to work up the nerve to go out like that, not that anyone but Robin noticed.

But Eddie just will not drop the Nancy case, no matter how many times Steve tries to stir the conversation away from her, and between his budding crush and the crushing fear that it’s never gonna be anything but one-sided, between the slightest of sore spots Steve still sports about the way things with Nancy ended in the first place and the bitter edge of never managing for something to start with Eddie after weeks of efforts, it’s beginning to grate, right?

“So what’s the problem?” Eddie insists, bounding circles around Steve like an eager puppy, and something in Steve’s ribcage snaps.

They’re in Steve’s room studying when it comes up once a-fucking-gain. Eddie is taking accelerated summer classes so he can finally graduate by September, and by some inexplicable fuckery of fate, despite Steve’s own dirt poor records, he’s turning out to be a decent tutor. Something about Eddie managing to focus in a way a classroom environment never allowed him to. Maybe because most teachers and over half the student body were openly hostile at worst and aggressively ignoring Eddie at best, all because of his last name or his tattoos or his loud brassy cheek.

All the same, Eddie does get distracted fairly easily, and an hour in, he’s bounced off the bed and started rattling reasons Nancy Wheeler is definitely Steve Harrington’s soulmate. Steve groans noncommittally, gets up to grab his water from the desk and takes a long swallow as Eddie keeps needling him.

“You’re the problem, Eddie,” he all but snarls, when he really meant it to come out exasperated at worst.

He snarls, though, and Eddie stiffens, his eyes going cold and hurt and the corner of his mouth turned down in anger.

“Right,” he says, and it sounds so casual Steve thinks he won’t make a big deal of his tone after all. Fool’s hope. “I’ll get out of your perfect hair, then,” Eddie spits out as he makes for the door, only Steve stands in his way, hands up in surrender.

“Wait, I didn’t mean it like that,” he starts.

“No, you’re right, it’s none of my business,” Eddie interrupts, but he steps back, gesturing wildly as he speaks. “It’s not like we’re even friends, you just got saddled with me because of Dustin. We saved the world together? Big deal! My involvement was incidental, really, more of an inconvenience than any kind of help. Why would you want my opinion, of all people’s, right? Even by this point. Get out of my way, I’ll quit stepping on your toes. Go on!”

“I don’t want you to go, Eddie,” Steve tries again.

“Just want me to shut up, is that it? Not really my strong suit, you might have noticed.”

Steve can’t help smiling. “I have noticed.”

It only seems to rile Eddie up even more, throwing his hands out and making to step around Steve again. “Man, what do you want from me?”

“Is this allowed?” he breathes out, extending the last word beyond its scope.

Which puts him within reaching distance of Steve, who grabs him by the lapels of his jacket and presses him, careful not to jostle him too bad but firm enough to counter his manic strength, against the wall. He doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t say anything, just presses a touch too close, lets himself imagine that he’s going to close the distance entirely, cocks his head and licks his lips and hangs there in a way he hopes spells it out for Eddie without inducing any kind of panic.

Eddie, hands still up at shoulder height, lets out a little huff close to a whimper when his back hits the wall, bracing himself for a hit that would never come, and maybe some part of him knows this, because he doesn’t look scared or angry anymore, just kind of confused with a side of grief, and it doesn’t take two seconds for him to start to look intrigued, maybe even, if Steve allows himself a little optimism, interested.

His lips part on a sharp inhale, and they’re close enough to smell each other’s skin, and Eddie’s eyes drop to Steve’s mouth, a little watery and out of focus, edging forward in a way that could just be a twitch, just a consequence of holding his breath the way he is, plausibly deniable, subconscious no doubt, only when Steve mirrors the movement, he does it again, gaze moving up and down from Steve’s eyes to his lips and back and back again without blinking, until twitch by twitch their noses graze and their mouths connect and Steve closes his eyes and concentrates on maintaining that seal over Eddie’s plush, pliable pout, because if he didn’t focus, he’d be way, way overeager for a first kiss.

He moves back after several seconds with a shaky exhale, swallows as he finds Eddie’s eyes again. His blood is thrumming in his fingertips, somehow he feels both cold between his shoulder blades and warm down to his toes, and if Eddie looks at all put out he thinks he might never manage another mirror in his life.

The look on Eddie’s face is pure disbelief.

Steve shrugs, not quite settled on the matter of mirrors. “I thought you made a point of breaking the rules?”

A glint starts to wake in Eddie’s eye that’s looking more delighted by the minute.

“Just as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone.”

“We’re in the clear, then,” Steve whispers, leaning in, just a smidge.

Both of Eddie’s hands sink into his hair as he pulls him into another, much steamier, kiss. Steve lets his fists fall from Eddie’s lapels and knot over his back instead, lets his mouth drop slightly open, an invitation Eddie wastes not a second to follow through on, teeth scraping and back arching like he wants to sink all the way into Steve, and by the time they’re parting, breathless, cheeks flushed, mouths stinging, Steve’s one hand is braced against the wall, holding himself up, knees too weak to do the job on their own.

“I thought you could barely stand me,” Eddie heaves.

“I can’t,” Steve admits. “You drive me nuts. Just not how you thought.”

Eddie frowns, suddenly serious.

“You should forget all about Nancy.”

Steve frowns too. “That so?”

“Hm-mm. She’s taken, man. And not all that. You need to move on.”

“Damn,” Steve sighs. “Am I being desperate?”

“Pathetic,” Eddie nods, barely a whisper against Steve’s lips, and they break into smiles in tandem. “Forget all about her,” Eddie repeats.

“Who?” Is the last word Steve gets out. Then he’s busy enough he really does forget.

When he fixes his hair in the bathroom mirror in the morning, he walks away with a wink.

Give us a kudos, if ye dare x

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve x eddie #steddie oneshot #first kiss

1K notes · View notes

wineauntie · 2 months

Note

I’m in the hospital for a little bit and I’ve just been binging your Hughes!sister imagines! Any way you can do one of her in the hospital and they just don’t know what’s going on? I swear I’ve been poked and prodded for the last couple days wayyyy too much for someone that doesn’t like needles. If not no worries, just wanted you to know I love your writing

WE’VE GOT YOU — hughes brothers x sister!reader

summary: where one trip to the grocery store ends with you in a hospital bed and three worried brothers

note: once again, I lowkey deviated from this ask, but I low-key live for angsty-fluff <3 I’m so sorry to hear you were/are in hospital and I hope you’re alright lovely!

warnings: use of y/n & y/n/n, medical stuff like insertion of needles, blood, IV’s and hospitals in general, fem!reader, fainting. (I think that’s all really)

word count: 2.6k

Summer at the lake house was one of your favourite times of the year. It was one of the few times you could spend your days doing nothing besides spending time with your brothers. Your parents were busy for the next three weeks, leaving you completely in the care of your brothers as the four of you flocked to the lake house for some "rest and relaxation".

The four of you were two days into being there when Quinn decided that today was the perfect day to do the weekly, well-needed grocery shop, and he generously volunteered you to help him out.

With nothing better to do, you went willingly.

You'd been feeling off all morning, a sharp pain in your stomach had wracked around your body but in true tested fashion, you popped an Advil and tried to carry on with your day.

"Alright," Quinn huffed, knocking you out of your stupor as the two of you began walking down the grocery store's first aisle. You hummed and pushed the cart forward all whilst he pulled out a list of food to get. "Divide and conquer?"

"I can grab the cereals and snacks, you get the veg and meat?" You suggested, tilting your head to look at your brother who nodded with pursed lips.

"Deal," he confirmed, shaking your outstretched hand. Your warm hand met his cool one as he grimaced and pulled away. "Ugh...Your hand is all clammy."

"Shut up," you rolled your eyes and withdrew your hand. You felt a pang of pain bounce through you as you tightened your existing grip on the shopping cart. "I'll meet you at the registers."

Quinn nodded and the two of you separated, your head tilted to the side as you scanned the shelves for everything you needed. You'd given the shopping list to Quinn, having memorised everything you needed to pick up. As you reached to grab a box of cereal you let out a hiss, the box dropping as your hand shot to clutch your side.

Stars spattered across your vision as you stumbled to grip the cart. The pain in your side was now vicious, biting at your every nerve as your heart sped up. Glancing around, you searched for any sign of your older brother. Your face was fixed in a grimace as you slowly pushed the cart towards where you'd last seen Quinn run off to.

The pain, like daggers, cut through you, aiming for debilitation, you reckoned. The agony grew as you shuffled towards the fruit and veg section, spotting Quinn's blue backward hat from above the wooden shelving.

"Quinn!" Your desperate call was more of a croak than a yell but, despite the distance and quietness of your voice, he somehow heard you.

His head whipped around, his eyes meeting yours as his eyebrows scrunched together. By this stage, you were leaving heavily against the cart with your face scrunched in pain as black spots danced their way along the borders of your vision. Quinn placed down what he was holding instantly, his eyes steady on your form as you began to tremble.

He knew something was wrong— call it that big brother instinct (or just having proper eyes...but nevertheless).

His eyes remained glued onto your form as you struggled to keep yourself upright. When he finally reached your side, you felt your knees buckle, his arms slipping under yours to keep you upright.

"Fuck," Quinn swore, steadying you as much as he could. His worried eyes spanned across your weak form as you let hot tears roll down the cushioning of your cheeks. "y/n/n, what's happening? What's wrong?"

"Hurts, Q," you let out, your voice shaky and small. If Quinn closed his eyes it was almost as if you were a child again with bruised and cut-up knees looking for him to put a bandaid on it. You put a hand against your side as the pain pulsed and thrummed like a hoard of drummers.

"Okay," Quinn took a deep breath in whilst he shifted in his place. Now wasn't the time for floundering, he needed to take charge. He needed to know what to do–even if he had no idea whatsoever. "I'm going to take you to the hospital, alright? You're going to be okay."

You nodded as he helped guide you out of the shop, ignoring any questioning glances you received as you abandoned the shopping cart and store. He helped you into the passenger seat of the car, reclining it for you before he buckled you in. You drew your legs slowly up onto the chair, curling into yourself as more tears spilt over.

"Just hold tight," Quinn muttered, brushing his hand over your hair before he closed your door and hurried towards his side to start up the car. He gulped as he scanned your small form once more before he drove out of the car park.

The drive felt like a blur, your tears flowing as you tried to focus on anything but the rattling pain. Quinn's voice spoke clearly to you, constantly reassuring you. His familiar voice was one you clung to for any semblance of comfort.

"Hey, Luke, is Jack with you?" Quinn's stern voice spoke and it was only then that you realised he'd called your other brothers, letting it connect to the car's speakers. "Put the phone on loudspeaker..." Quinn looked towards you briefly before readjusting his grip on the steering wheel.

"Y/N isn't doing so well," he continued, "She collapsed on me in the store, so I'm taking her to the hospital."

"Wait, what?"

"What do you mean hospital?"

"Quinn, what's wrong with her?"

Jack and Luke's voices overlapped in a flurry of questions as Quinn sighed and tried to pick through them.

"I think it's her side, she was holding it tightly but I'm not taking any risks," he firmly stated. "We're five minutes out from A&E, I'll keep you posted."

"Keep us posted?!" Jack scoffed, "We'll be there in thirty minutes, maybe twenty-five if I speed a little."

"No speeding!" You groaned, your voice cracking as you pried your eyes open. "Please be careful."

"Alright, y/n/n," Luke piped up, "I'll make sure he's safe...well as safe as he can be, you know how bad he can be at driving."

"I'm not bad," you could imagine Jack scowling as a soft thump resounded. If you knew anything about your brothers you knew Jack had just whacked Luke straight across the head. "We'll see you soon!"

Quinn hummed and hung up as he pulled off of the main road, into the lead up to the hospital. He still looked at you every few seconds, his eyebrows permanently furrowed deep as you carefully squirmed in the leather seats of his car.

"Just hold tight, y/n/n," he muttered, changing gears, "it's going to be alright."

That's the last thing you comprehended before your vision completely darkened.

The incessant beeping coming from what you presumed to be a machine was the first thing you heard when you'd woken up. You moved your head groggily, your eyesight blurred as you blinked heavily.

The room was washed in pure you,wokelights above blinding as you lifted your hand to rub at your eyes. You felt a sharp scratch and upon glancing towards the feeling, you eventually noticed the IV jutting out of your paled skin.

You were suddenly wide awake.

You heard the beeping of the machine speed up as you attempted to sit up in the uncomfortable bed you seemed to be lying in. Patting your hands down your body, you discovered a thin hospital gown and a section of bandages across the middle of your stomach.

The door to your left swung open as a woman in scrubs and a white jacket entered with her clipboard in hand. She had a warm smile across her face when she noticed you were awake.

"Hello, I'm Sara, your doctor," the woman's soothing voice explained, as you looked at her in pure bewilderment. "You may feel disoriented for a while, but you’re in one of our recovery rooms at the moment."

"Recovery from what?" Your voice felt chalky if that was even possible. Sara rushed to grab you a glass of water waiting on a table beside you, handing it over to you for you to sip.

"You were brought in around..." Sara paused and checked your chart before looking back at you. "Eight hours ago with severe abdominal pain. You were unconscious, your brother carried you. We ran some tests and discovered that your appendix ruptured."

"My appendix?" You breathed out, your head was swirling as your shaky hands placed the plastic cup of water down on the table.

"Mhm," Sara hummed, stepping closer to the bed with her clipboard. "We took you in for surgery to remove it and now I'm here just to make sure you're awake and alright, before we bring you up to your room!"

"Oh...where is my brother?" You asked quietly, your hands folding cautiously in ront of you.

"The one who brought you in is waiting upstairs, and two other young gentlemen joined him shortly after you arrived."

"Also brothers," you supplied, a small smile weaving its way across your face. You winced as you shuffled beneath the thin sheets of the bed. "When can I see them?"

"As soon as I check you over and grab some bloods!" Sara beamed, waving her clipboard and pen. You leaned back against the pillows and allowed the woman to assess you as you stared at the ceiling.

She pulled out a needle and vial, along with a blue rubber strap. You watched apprehensively as Sara expertly prepared the equipment, her movements precise and practised. Despite your best efforts to remain calm, the sight of the needle made your stomach churn with unease.

"Alright, just a little pinch," Sara reassured you, flashing a reassuring smile as she tied the rubber strap around your arm. With steady hands, she swabbed the crook of your elbow with alcohol before gently inserting the needle into your vein.

You braced yourself for the anticipated sting, but to your surprise, it was only a brief discomfort before the sensation faded. You let out a sigh of relief, grateful that the ordeal was over before you knew it.

Sara expertly filled the vial with your blood, her movements smooth and efficient. Once she had collected an adequate sample, she removed the needle and applied a cotton ball to the small puncture wound.

"All done," she announced cheerfully, placing the vial of blood into a small tray and labelling it with your information. "You did great."

"Thanks...You make it look so easy." You offered her a weak smile, feeling a sense of relief wash over you now that the ordeal was over.

"It comes with the territory." She chuckled softly, gathering up her supplies and tucking them back into her bag. "Now, I'll get these bloods to the lab and then we can get you settled into your room."

With a final wave, Sara left the room, leaving you alone once again. You let out a long exhale, feeling a sense of exhaustion wash over you now that the adrenaline had faded.

You took a deep breath in as Sara pressed a button to open the doors to your supposed room. As it opened, you spotted all three of your brothers jump to their feet, their eyes fixed on your incoming bed.

Your eyes met Quinn's, as he seemed to let out a breath and let his shoulders drop. The tension in the room eased as his gaze softened, relief washing over his features like a gentle wave. You could sense the worry etched in his eyes, the weight of concern lifting as he saw you safe and awake.

"Look who finally decided to join the land of the living!" Jack exclaimed with a grin, nudging Luke who was standing next to him.

"Yeah, we were starting to think you'd taken up permanent residence in the land of the appendix-less," Luke chimed in, trying to lighten the mood despite the worry etched on his face in the form of little lines between his brows.

Quinn, ever the one to keep his emotions close to the chest, simply nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Glad to see you're okay," he said softly, his eyes reflecting relief as he ruffled your hair. You couldn't help but chuckle weakly at their attempts at humour, grateful for their presence despite the circumstances.

"Thanks...and Quinn, I guess I owe you one for bringing me here," you quipped, wincing slightly as you shifted in the bed.

"His biceps needed a workout anyways" Luke teased, earning a slight glare from Quinn.

Sara stepped back to give you some space with your brothers, her smile warm and reassuring. "I'll leave you all to catch up. Just remember to take it easy. You're still recovering," she admonished gently before slipping out of the room, leaving the four of you alone.

As you settled back against the pillows, surrounded by the familiar faces of your brothers, you couldn't help but feel a wave of gratitude wash over you. Despite the pain and uncertainty, you knew you were going to be alright as long as you had them by your side.

Luke leaned in, his eyes scanning you with concern. "Seriously though, how are you feeling? You look like you've been through a wrestling match with a grizzly bear." He winced, glancing down at your IV.

"I've been better, I'm just glad it's all over now." You managed a weak smile, appreciating his attempt at levity.

"You scared the hell out of us, you know?" Jack plopped down in the chair next to your bed, his grin faltering slightly as he studied your face. "Typical youngest child behaviour, always the dramatic one."

You scoffed and rolled your eyes as Jack gently laced his fingers through your non-IV hand and squeezed ever so carefully.

"Yeah, I almost had to call in the cavalry to drag your stubborn, passed out self into the ER," Quinn added, a hint of teasing in his voice, though his eyes betrayed his worry.

You chuckled softly, feeling a swell of affection for your brothers. "Well, thanks for not leaving me to suffer." You lolled your head against your pillow as the boys shifted in their stances. The three boys stayed silent as they watched you move with a few groans.

There was a beat of silence before you spoke again.

"So...do you think I can use this whole appendix thing as an excuse to get out of doing chores for, like, the next year?" You asked with a mischievous yet lazy grin, earning a collective groan from the boys.

"You wish, y/n/n," Quinn retorted, rolling his eyes with a chuckle. "But nice try."

As laughter filled the room, you couldn't help but feel a surge of relief wash over you. Despite the pain and uncertainty, having your brothers by your side made everything feel a little bit brighter.

You listened intently as the three explained what had happened exactly from the moment you'd passed out to the very second you'd been brought into the room. Jack and Luke had apparently run over various traffic cones out in the parking lot whilst Quinn had apparently drunk his body weight in caffeine.

As you listened to them, a sudden thought dawned over you.

"Hey...so do Mom and Dad know?"

"Oh, fuck..." Jack grimaced, slapping a hand to his forehead as Quinn swore low under his breath. "We are dead."

#wineauntie #quinn hughes x reader #nhl x reader #quinn hughes imagine #luke hughes x reader #hughes brothers x reader #luke hughes fluff #quinn hughes fluff #hughes!sister #jack hughes x reader #hughes brothers fanfiction #hughes brothers x y/n #hughes brothers x you #jack hughes fluff

687 notes · View notes

hihello-pinky · 3 months

Text

middle of the night

last installment to the After 8PM mini series (yep, calling it that) hehe

part one | part two

suna rintarou x afab reader!

angst to fluff, ig

latter part is not edited and written during the middle of the night (intended)

likes and reblogs will be appreciated! xoxo

leave me love? (tips!)

***

almost everyone will agree that finding something to dislike about hani nakamura is like trying to find a needle in a haystack.

you remember the first time you overhear that statement at lunch in the cafeteria, and you laughing a little to yourself. you can’t even blame the gossiping students because that’s just how nice hani is.

however, you should have known that when trying to find a needle in a haystack, you begin to doubt its existence until you feel a prick and you’re bleeding and the needle already got you.

the pain you’re currently feeling is far akin to a small prick as you replay the conversation you had with suna at the convenience store in the middle of the night again and again and again.

“what did you want to talk about that couldn’t wait until tomorrow?” he had asked.

you had taken a deep breath before replying, the words came out of you quickly, as if your bravery for confessing has a timer. “well, i… i have something to tell you. it’s actually a bit selfish of me to say this to you but… i like you as more than just a friend, rin, and it’s been a while now. i’m sorry for suddenly springing this unto you but i just have this need to confess or else i would feel like exploding inside. you don’t have to say anything; you can choose to interact less with me from now on but yeah, i just really needed to get it off of my chest.”

suna had surprised you with his reaction. he had a deep frown on his face and given you an accusing look. “do you really not want me to be happy?”

“huh?”

“for fuck’s sake, y/n, i know about your little game! hani told me everything. you dropping all the hints all those months ago, fueling whatever sort of feelings i had for you, playing with my heart, when you only want to use me to be closer to osamu. i even chose to ignore those because i know we’re young and inclined to do stupid, bad things. but damn! can’t you just leave me alone?”

and you were so dumbstruck by what he had told you that you were only able to look at him in disbelief.

“cat got your tongue?” he bitterly asked before breaking eye contact.

you shook your head after you had processed what he said and with a defeated sigh, said, “we’ve been friends for two years. did you really believe i was that kind of person? why didn’t you ask me to confirm it? and most importantly, i grew up with the miyas so why would i even use you to get to osamu, who, by the way, is like a brother to me? you know what, suna? maybe you’re right. i should leave you alone. i don’t deserve to be around someone who would easily believe lies about me.”

you feel tears roll down your cheeks as you force your mind to stop the reel of what would probably be the last time you ever talked to suna. not for the first time, you wish to never have called him and asked to meet. oh, to only have sucked the pain up and not confess to him. maybe the heartbreak would be less than what you have to deal with right now.

the concerned look on his face as he met you in the convenience store doesn’t matter anymore; neither does the fact that he was wearing the hoodie you’ve always asked him to give to you.

hurt, betrayal, and anger all brew inside of you. you can’t even fully process everything. hani, who everyone sees as the sweet and kind person betrayed you as a friend. suna, who had captured your heart, hurt you for believing that you are capable of doing such terrible things. and to top it all, anger at the both of them and mostly anger at yourself for walking away from suna before he can even respond to what you said to him.

suffice it is to say, the next time you see suna is extremely awkward. it’s at volleyball practice and thankfully, you’re not the sole manager of the club, making it easier for you to avoid any interactions with him.

“are you feeling better now?” osamu quietly asks you as he takes the water bottle from your hand during one of their breaks.

you reply with a nod but before you can let go of the bottle and escape from the twin's prodding questions, the grey-haired boy uses it to pull you closer to him. “you didn’t respond to any of my messages yesterday and you’re avoiding suna like he’s the plague.”

you click your tongue. of course he would notice. the same way he knew the reason of your breakdown in his car after that dinner. i’m not an idiot, y/n. i can see through your lies during all the time ‘sumu and me teased you. you actually really like sunarin.

“i swear i’m fine, ‘samu. stop being a worry-wart for me, okay?” you forcefully take your hand from the bottle and you swivel away from the twin only to meet eyes with suna.

it’s obvious he’s been watching the interaction and your chest tightens, thinking about what he said the other night. once you notice him begin to walk towards your direction, you quickly turn to tend to aran. thankfully, the coach calls for the practice to resume not long after.

you usually admire suna during practice (when you’re not too busy taking notes) but just seeing him at the present brings back memories of what happened so you try to avoid looking at him. those same memories keeping you up at night. suna, at your favorite convenience store in the middle of the night, looking at your exasperatedly and shooting words that hurt you while wearing your favorite hoodies of him.

the coach’s whistle echoes in the gym, breaking you out of your sorrowful thoughts. “suna, are you not feeling well? you seem a lot distracted.”

suna sighs heavily and you barely miss your co-managers whispering to each other how there are rumors that suna recently got in a lovers' quarrel with hani. your heart is thumping wildly as you watch him approach the coach who is sitting very near to where you’re standing.

“sorry, coach,” he says as he scratches at his nape. “yes, i’m not feeling well.” he then shoots you a not-so-subtle quick look. “can y/n accompany me to the clinic?”

he knows it’s a foul move to involve the coach and the team in the middle of practice but suna didn’t know what else to do. you’ve blocked his number and all his social accounts. his attempts to talk to you in person have all been futile. it's not helping that osamu refuses to talk to him about you.

so, really, he was left with no choice.

however, you remain awfully quiet as the two of you walk towards the school infirmary, a good distance between your bodies. he wants to talk to you but he doesn’t know where to begin, especially that this is very different from all the times that he has walked you home in the past where a silence is most welcome, oftentimes interrupted when a stray cat passes by.

when you arrive at the clinic, the nurse is out so you take seats at the waiting area. “y/n…” he finally says after a few moments pass with your deliberately ignoring him.

you still refuse to look at him and instead play with your hands. the action calls his attention towards your wrist and it breaks his heart to see the absence of the beaded bracelet that you always wore ever since he gave it to you after he won it in an egg claw machine game a year ago.

“y/n, please… will you hear me out?” suna doesn't mind that there obviously is desperation in his voice,

your jaw clenches a little as your fingers pause. he imagines the internal conflict within you before you finally let out a soft sigh. “okay.”

suna doesn’t miss a beat. “i’m sorry. i’m so, very sorry, y/n. i talked to hani and she admitted to everything. still, it does not change the fact that i hurt you by believing in her lies. i don’t know what happened to me and i have no excuse for myself.”

when you finally look at him, he almost wishes you continued to avoid his gaze. gone is the warmth that he always sees in your gaze and in its place is just hurt and sadness. “i just keep thinking… that all these months, during our every interaction, at the back of your mind, there’s this thought that i’m a bad person. and i…” your voice breaks as you swallow. “i don’t know, suna. why didn’t you just talk to me?”

why? it’s the same question he’s been pestering himself with for the past two nights. how could he let that happen? why was he easily deceived by hani’s lies?

“i’m sorry, y/n,” he apologizes again, aware of the despair laced in his voice. “i wish i can take away the hurt i’ve caused you.”

your teary eyes mirror his own. “i don’t know if i can trust my so-called friends ever again. i’m just confused and sad and hurt, rin.”

the slip of his nickname buries the hatchet deeper in his chest and suna just wants to scream. he wants to say that he broke up with hani shortly after she confessed about the lies. but that wouldn’t change anything now, and it’s not like you would care. not knowing what else to do, he moves to sit beside you and carefully reaches for your hand.

when you don’t resist, he begins to rub this thumb against your palm as he gently maneuvers your head against his shoulder. his chest tightens as the sleeve of his uniform quickly dampens.

no more words leave either of your mouths, the silence enveloping you as he lets you cry against him, just like how he let your tears stain his hoodie the first time you bumped into each other at the 12th convenience store in the middle of the night over a year ago, the warmth of his shoulder comforting you from your pet hedgehog’s passing.

only this time, your tears are caused by him.

“suna, you’ve been a close friend of miya atsumu ever since high school, how are you feeling about his engagement?” the reporter asks behind the camera.

you watch suna wear that signature smirk of his. “of course i’m happy for my friend, and i wish a lot of good luck to his beloved.” his answer causes a few laughter from around him.

“how about you, then? you’ve been extremely secretive about your love life.” the reporter follows up excitedly.

suna raises an eyebrow. “i thought you said you only have one question for me?” he shakes his head before beginning to walk away. “but all i can say is that i’m happy.”

the reporter fumbles a little but he has lost suna already, so he moves on to one of the other players from the national team.

you’re about to switch channels when a small figure joins you on the couch. “mama! was that papa?”

you turn to your son – a complete miniature of his father – and ruffle his hair. “yes, sweetie.”

he breaks into a toothless grin and goes to the center of the living room to dance around, all the while singing about how his papa is in the television.

meanwhile, your phone rings and you answer it quickly. “hey.”

“hey. did you watch?”

“yeah… you were so great. though i have one question for you, and i promise it’s one question only.”

rin’s soft chuckle at the other end of the line makes your heart flutter. “so you saw the interview? go on, what’s your question, love?”

you take a quick but deep breath before asking. “do you ever regret agreeing to keeping our relationship secret? like, nobody knows you’re married and with a kid, and most people think you’re just some volleyball-obsessed person who’s going to grow old alone.”

he laughs once again. “i didn’t know people think that about me,” he mocks surprise. “but to answer your question, no. i’d rather people believe i’d grow old alone than curse me for being a jerk who once hurt the love of his life when they were teens.

"i also don’t want people to know that i spent my senior year in high school trying to woo you and earn your forgiveness. how you forgave me and we became friends again but then you rejected me when i confessed after graduation? no way.”

you’re also laughing now, reminiscing on the past. how, after that day in the clinic, you and suna drifted for the rest of sophomore year. you had wanted space and he respected that.

you never got closure with hani, her family coincidentally having to move to tokyo after that school year ended but you think that’s for the best. you didn’t know what you would have told her anyway.

“so all this secrecy because you don’t want people to know that you’ve been rejected?” the teasing in your voice makes you giggle yourself.

“yes,” he replies playfully. “and also because i want to protect you! i remained loyally single for years until you finally agreed to a date during your senior year in university. god knows some crazy fans might curse you for making the suna rintarou wait for you!"

“and whose fault is that?” you’re smiling crazily into the phone now. “also, since we’re spilling stuff here, how about you also tell the world how you knocked me up three months into our relationship?”

your eyes drift to your three-year-old son who’s running towards the sounds at the front door. it’s when you notice that rin has dropped the call. he crouches down to kiss your son at the top of his head before covering his ears. “again, i’m sorry about that accident honey, but look at our little angel, isn’t he a cutie?”

you cross the small distance from the couch to the doorway. finally reaching your husband, you kiss him on the cheek. “the world is missing out on seeing your cute mini version.”

he wraps an arm around you as you both watch your son whose attention has gone back to the toys on the carpet. “what’s with all these hints, love? are you saying you’re finally okay with giving the public a glimpse of our happy life?”

you nuzzle your head against his chest. “maybe yes. maybe no… maybe later when…”

“hmm?”

you don’t respond for a while. “say, rin, do you want to drop by the 12th convenience store later around midnight once our son is asleep? i already asked osamu to come over to watch him.”

rin hums against you. "that's random, though? and how come you get 'samu to agree to babysitting favors so easily when i have to literally boost the sales of his onigiri?"

"silly, silly, sunarin," you singsong as you slap him playfully. "so, what do you think? wanna go to our convenience store later, at the middle of the night?"

"okay. do i need to bring the big eco-bag for the snacks we will be hauling?"

you untangle yourself from his arms as you make your way to your child. a perfect guise to hide your grin. "actually, no. we'll just be buying a little item."

in hindsight, you should have known better.

atsumu miya, despite being a professional volleyball player and recently getting engaged to the nonchalant sakusa kiyoomi, still likes to drink alcohol.

here you find yourself again at a long table, your friends from the volleyball club in high school gathered along with some of their plus ones. onigiri miya had closed early today for the private event. as osamu miya worked on the food with the help of his new assistant (whose eyes can't stop admiring her boss, but you'll tease osamu about that later) his blonde brother is already almost done with his first bottle.

he's telling the story of how they pranked one of their teammates that he and sakusa had broken up as a way of sharing their engagement. when the poor younger boy learned of the joke, he had ignored them to the point that atsumu had to reach out to kageyama to get him to talk to him.

"i told you it was a stupid idea and yet you didn't listen," sakusa adds to the ending of atsumu's story.

you laugh with your friends around the table, your lips opening up in a yawn once the laughter dies down. rin, ever the observant lover, lowly asks if you're okay, gently squeezing your hand he's holding under the table.

"i'm fine," you smile sweetly at him and his eyes soften a little. upon seeing he's still a little bit worried, you peck his cheek. "don't worry about me."

"you should be getting some rest," he says.

he must have said it louder than he intended or maybe you two just did not notice the table going quiet. atsumu speaks. "rest? suna, we're still not at the age to be tucking in bed at 8:00 PM. you know what we actually need? drinks!"

somehow, he gets the others to drink as well. shortly after, osamu finishes with the food preparation and his assistant, along with kita and aran, help set the table. the group happily eat and converse, sharing updates about their lives and reminiscing on their high school days. suddenly, you feel someone glaring at you.

"what?" you curiously ask atsumu whose eyes are looking at you with as much focus as he can muster with his tipsy state. "you're cheating!"

"huh?" your brows are furrowed and you turn to rin beside you but to your surprise, he's laughing. everyone looks at the both of you, half-intrigued and half amused.

rin kisses your forehead before taking the glass on his left and sipping. "he meant this, love. idiot surprisingly notices i've been drinking for us."

you're pretty sure you're already blushing. "oh."

"ah ha!" atsumu looks proud. "so i was right? come one, y/n, it's no fair! why are you not drinking? omimi and ginjima are the designated drivers tonight so no need to hold back!"

your cheeks still feel warm. "actually, i can't... i shouldn't have been drinking three weeks ago..." you exchange a look with rin and he nods at you. before you can continue, atsumu cuts you off with an excited squeal. "suna rintarou! how dare you keep this secret from me! and you, y/n, i thought i'm your brother!"

"for goodness' sake, 'tsumu, calm down," suna responds to the blonde, we actually only found out a week ago."

atsumu pouts, his cute drunken antics entertaining everyone at the table. "fine, forgiven. but i better be the godfather this time around!"

despite ginjima's insistence to drive you and rintarou home, you both decline his offer. after all, the walk home for onigiri miya restaurant to your home is not that far and late night walks with your rin is always welcome.

the moon and stars provide the two of you light as you walk home, your arms linked together. the night's breeze is nothing against rin's warm body. "love, i'm gonna tell you something but please don't panic, okay?"

his sudden sentence surprises you but you hum in agreement anyway.

"we're being followed by some media."

"oh."

he stops in his track, urging you to do the same. he looks down at your face, eyes holding gentleness one would not have expected from the stoic middle blocker. "do you want me to tell them off?"

you surprise yourself by saying no. rin cocks his head slightly before you respond. "i think i'm okay with a little bit of our private life being shared to the world."

he studies your face for a moment before smiling. "okay."

"okay?"

"yeah," he breathes close, hand already cupping your face. you get on your tiptoes as suna rintarou leans down and kisses you, but not before softly whispering, "i love you, y/n."

camera shutters be damned.

[ 11:07 PM]

[Instagram Update: s.rintarou posted a photo]

[is the "growing old alone" in the room with us?]

-end-

#been in my drafts for long tbh #i didn’t know how to end #but i guess this works #haikyuu angst #haikyuu x reader #suna rintarou #haikyuu fic #suna x reader #suna angst #haikyuu!!#suna rintarou angst #haikyuu fluff #suna fluff #suna rintarou x reader #suna rintarou fluff

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samgirl98 · 9 months

Text

Forgotten Demon Twin 2/?

Prev | Next

Danny came back early from his patrol. There had been no ghost attacks. All he had found were ghost blobs, and he let them be. They were harmless. He got under his covers, glad that the next day was Sunday. He hoped he would be able to sleep late.

Danny was starting to fall asleep when he heard his phone ring. He groaned. He just wanted to sleep. He looked at his phone and immediately called Tucker.

“What do you mean someone is looking into me?” He asked without preamble.

“I don’t know what to tell you, dude. About six hours ago, I got an alert of someone looking into Amity Park. No biggie, sometimes people get curious. The firewall the GIW and me and Technus have set has kept them out so far. Then, a few hours later, I found out someone was trying to find out about you.”

“I’ve been able to keep them out, but just barely. Whoever they are, they’re good at hacking. Technus and I are having a hard time keeping them away from your information. I’ve had to direct them to your Doom and old Twitter account to get them off your scent, but I don’t know how long that’ll last.”

Okay, okay. This wasn’t the time to panic. It was probably the League (in which case he was [fully] dead anyway). He had to find a way to keep his family and friends safe, hide the portal from his fruit loop of a grandfather and mother, and keep his secret of being half-dead—no big deal.

“Danny, Danny, you still there?”

“Yeah, I’m still here. Listen, I want you to stop interfering with the hacking. I don’t want you or any of my loved ones in danger if it's who I think it is. I haven’t told you guys the whole truth, and if I make it out alive, I will. Until then, don’t contact me.”

“Danny, wait! What’s going—”

Danny hung up before Tucker could finish asking the question.

His phone immediately started lighting up. He turned it off. Danny moved his bed and pulled the wakizashi hidden under his floorboard; some ninja throwing stars, needles, and poison.

Danny stared at his weapons and knew he was screwed.

He could never measure up to the assassins in the League, let alone his family. He had no doubt the Al Ghuls had learned Danny had lied to them and was here to kill him and his family.

Ra’s Al Ghul did not believe in leaving loose ends.

Maybe Danny could convince his grandfather to leave the Fentons alone if he gave them all his information and let Ra’s kill Danny.

No, Danny would have to win against Ra’s. He couldn’t let the older man win; Danny knew his family would never survive if Danny died.

He didn’t know if he’d come back as a full ghost if he got killed (could he even die?), and he wasn’t willing to find out.

Besides, he no longer was the Al Ghul’s failure. He was Danny Phantom. Hero of Amity Park and the Ghost Zone. Crowned Prince of the Infinite Realms. He would win.

Danny heard a tap on his window and was met with two piercing green eyes.

They were here.

____

Once they entered Amity Park, whatever firewall kept them out went out. Suddenly, they could see everything that was happening in the small city. It disturbed Bruce.

Mentions of ‘ghosts’ attacking the town. A weatherman who predicted and announced the presence of ghosts and the Fentons on the road. The city being sucked into an alternate dimension (without the Justice League ever hearing about it), and a dead teenager taking care of the city. And the mention of a portal into the Land of the Dead, courtesy of the Fentons.

“Danyal never mentioned this portal,” Damian muttered as he looked through old letters he had.

The plane landed at 2:25 in the morning at Amity Park Airport.

It wasn’t hard to find the Fenton’s address once they were in Amity Park. Their address, phone number, and business number were public records in the small city.

The family made a plan.

They decided they would send Damian first. A (kind of) familiar face could help draw Danyal, Danny, out.

(God, it sounded like he was trying to lure out a wild animal. Though, if Danny were anything like his brother, that description wouldn’t be too far off the mark…)

“Remember, Damian, don’t engage if Danny starts attacking. It’s just talking. If he attacks you leave, and we find a different way to communicate.”

“Yes, father,” Damian said through gritted teeth. That was the fifth time his father had said the same thing. He wasn’t an imbecile.

Please, his thoughts intruded; not even an imbecile would forget they had a twin brother.

Shut up, he answered back.

Damian put on his dark clothes (not his league outfit; he threw that away a long time ago.) and the wire so his family could hear what was happening before leaving.

It wasn’t hard to find the Fenton’s house. The giant light arrow spelling out Fenton’s Work toward a house, and the big, he didn’t even know what was on top of the house, gave it away. These people weren’t subtle at all.

Damian climbed the windows. In one, there was a couple. The behemoth of a man was snoring so loudly it shook the whole room. A red-haired teenage girl slept in the next window while holding an old teddy bear. He went to the next one and froze.

For the first time in almost a decade, Damian saw his twin once more.

His back was turned to the window, but Damian saw a wakizashi in his hand. Ah, Danyal probably suspected someone was coming and thought it would be a member of the League.

Well, it was time to put his brother at ease.

Damian tapped on the window and saw blue eyes suddenly looking at him.

The two twins stared at each other for a long time. Then, Danyal adverted his gaze and went to the window. He kept the small sword in his hand.

He opened the window and let Damian in.

“Heir to the Demon’s Head, what a pleasure to be acknowledged and visited by you. To what does this Spare owe the honor?”

Once upon a time, Danyal’s subservience sent a thrill of pleasure down Damian’s spine. Now, it reminded him how far apart he had been kept from his twin. A horrid feeling twisted in his stomach and caused him physical pain.

His brother should never have been treated the way he had been by their grandfather and mother.

Damian should have never treated his brother that way.

“Danyal,” Damian said softly; his brother stiffened, “It’s okay. We are no longer loyal to the League. We are free.”

Danny didn’t dare look up. Was this a test? Was his twin testing his loyalty?

Danny’s heart rate picked up as Damian touched Danny’s shoulder.

“Brother,” Danny felt incredulous; the Heir never acknowledged the Spare as ‘brother,’ “Brother, grandfather is dead. We are free.”

Danny kept his gaze adverted. He couldn’t bring himself to hope that he was free.

Damian let his hand drop to his side.

“You don’t believe me.”

Danyal kept quiet.

Damian took a deep breath, “I have proof. He was killed in public. I brought the newspaper article.”

Damian took out the newspaper clipping and gave it to Danyal. His brother took it with shaking hands.

Danny’s breath caught as he read the title.

Ra’s Al Ghul was…dead. Danny was free! Would his brother let him stay in Amity Park? He was the heir, so he undoubtedly had taken over. Maybe if he pled his case to Damian and promised loyalty, he would let him stay with the Fentons.

Besides, Danny was the weak link of the Al Ghul line. He wasn’t a threat. Maybe Damian would grant him his wish.

Damian felt his heart twist as his twin got down on one knee, bowing his head.

“Demon’s Head, I ask you to let me stay in Amity Park. I’ll send weekly or even daily reports. Please, don’t kill the Fentons. My weakness has made me feel attached to them. If you don’t want me to stay here, please at least grant me the request of sparing their lives.”

Damian’s sadness suddenly turned to anger.

Hadn’t Danyal listened to a word he had said? They were free; they were no longer bound to the League.

“No, Danyal. The League no longer exists,” he spat out.

Danny flinched at his twin’s anger. His hold tightened on his sword.

“Bring it back a bit, baby bat,” Richard said through the comms.

Danny didn’t give any outward appearance that he heard another man’s voice calling Damian…Baby Bat?

What the fuck?

“I apologize, Danyal. My temper still gets the best of me sometimes.”

Danny couldn’t believe his ears. Damian, the Prince of the League, Heir to the Demon’s Throne, was apologizing…to Danny.

“Danyal, I left the League six years ago. I’ve been with our father.”

Father. The Batman. If what Damian was saying was true…

“Father and the rest of our siblings would like to meet you. They’re here in the city.”

…He could be free. All he had to do was convince Batman he was fine and to let him stay in Amity Park. Danny wouldn’t say anything about being Phantom, so Batman wouldn’t find any excuse to make him leave his little city.

Besides, how hard could it be to lie to the greatest detective in the world?

Danny got up, dusted his pants, and asked, “When do we leave?”

#Forgotten Demon Twin #dc x dp #dp x dc

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hazbinhotelie · 23 days

Text

Smiling Puppet

CW: Syringe, needles, gore, harm, manipulation, mind control (in a way), Alastor owning your soul and being a shit about it

“Don’t you just love being mine?” Alastor asked, pulling my lips into a smile for him. “I think it’s much better than being the property of another overlord, to be sure.”

“Al,” I said, shaking my head. I didn’t want to deal with his antics today. He just laughed and snapped his fingers, enveloping me in green chains.

“I mean, imagine if Valentino got his claws on you. You’d be just like Angel Dust and oh- we all know how that goes.” He leaned in and placed his hand under my chin, tilting my head from side to side. He looked at my neck, where little dots were splattered. Marks of where he’d injected me, both old and new. “Don’t be so glum. I might just have to doll you up if you keep doing this.”

“Please don’t,” I said quietly. Panic flooded through me and I knew he could tell. Angel had it bad, and my experience was nothing like his, but that didn’t mean I was doing good. “Please.”

“Manners are a good start,” he said with a smirk. He squeezed my face for a moment, then let go and pushed me to the floor, on my knees. “Now be a dear and smile for me, won’t you?”

I winced at the pain, colliding with the floor harshly. I struggled to sit up properly, maneuvering around the chains. He wasn’t making it easy, I couldn’t quite process as quick as he’d like.

“I said to smile, my dear,” he growled, tugging on the chain. I yelped as I was pulled closer to him by my neck. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

“Sorry,” I mumbled. I tried to smile, failing at first. Cold dread held me by the neck, my smile kept faltering. I was on the verge of tears, every time I could manage a smile it was weak and shaky.

He tsked and tugged on the chain again. “Come on now, I know you can do better than that,” he said, his face pressed close to mine. “I’ll give you one last chance, darling.”

“I’m sorry, please,” I said, my voice strained. He narrowed his eyes and tightened the chain, the collar on my neck getting small enough to make it difficult for me to breathe. I gasped softly, my panic only increasing. A few tears slipped down my cheeks as I finally managed a trembling smile, stressed and as ingenuine as possible. “Please,” I whispered. He knew it was impossible for me to do what he really wanted, not when I was like this. “Please, I’m sorry, I’m trying. I’m trying.”

“Trying isn’t good enough, darling,” he said, his grin full of malice. “You know that.” He dragged me up and off my feet, forcing me to his favorite chair and shoving me into it.

“No, no, please! Alastor please don’t,” I said quickly, trying to get up. He used his tentacles to restrain me, keeping me tied to the chair, unable to move. “No, I- I can do better,” I said desperately. I tried to give him a proper smile, one that would satisfy him, but I couldn’t.

“Ah, you do amuse me,” He laughed softly and shook his head, pulling out a syringe. I closed my eyes, not even wanting to look at it. I squirmed a little, as he positioned it over my neck. “Now, stay still,” he ordered, gripping my face to keep me in place. “I’d hate to hurt you.”

I made a small whining sort of noise, something meant to be another plea for mercy I knew I wouldn’t receive. I felt a sharp prick in my neck as the needle pierced my skin and stopped making the noise. A familiar but odd sensation washed over me, relaxing me, muffling my thoughts. My eyes drooped and fell shut as I slumped in the chair, only held up by the restraints now. All I could think about was Alastor. He was such a good owner, never hurting me. He was so generous and nice, putting up with me like this.

“Ah, there we go,” he said softly. I could hear the smugness in his voice but I didn’t mind. He brushed his fingers along my cheek, gentle. “Open your eyes for me, darling.”

I did so without hesitation, though my movements were a bit slow. I looked up at him, my eyes glazed over. They were an unnaturally bright green colour.

“Sometimes I forget how stunning you look like this,” he said with a grin. I had gotten a hold of myself- well, as much as I could. The effects of whatever he’d done were still taking place, I just wasn’t as sluggish anymore. I was sitting up properly now, as he got rid of the tentacles. “Good, good. Now, remember, you’re never fully dressed without a smile,” he said lightly, pulling my lips into a smile like earlier. It stayed this time, I made sure of it. I was much better at it now. “Don’t let that smile drop, understand? It’s a powerful tool. I can’t let anyone thinking that I’m a bad owner with weak possessions, you know.”

“I know,” I said with a grin. My voice wasn’t particularly enthusiastic. He seemed satisfied, though.

“I’m sure you do,” he said with a nod. “Now, I do believe I treat you the nicest out of all the souls I own. You are a good puppet, after all. Remember that for me.”

“Okay,” I said, smiling a bit wider. God, my face was already hurting. I couldn’t bring myself to care.

Alastor saw my gaze shift around the room as I tried to reorient myself, and he snapped his fingers in my face. “Over here. Eyes on me, dear.” I looked back over at him, now only a small smile on my face.

“I’m sorry,” I said, thinking for a moment. “I can’t… it’s hard, to smile like you do,” I said, although it was a bit off topic.

“Yes, well it does take practice,” he said, chuckling lightly. “I do wish I could see you smile all the time, though. When I’ve got you like this, a nice little marionette, I get to see you smile as frequently as I’d like. However, Charlie would kill me if I kept you in this simple little puppet state…”

“Can you help me?” I asked, tilting my head to the side. “So I smile no matter what. I want to be able to smile like you,” I said dumbly. All that mattered when I was like this was making Alastor happy. He owned my soul, after all, and when he did this to me… well, I wasn’t in my right mind. I couldn’t even think straight.

“Oh?” He asked, raising a brow. This was unexpected to him. “What exactly are you implying, my dear?”

“Stitch me up,” I said bluntly. My entire demeanor implied it was only a natural solution, that it only made sense, that it wasn’t a big deal. The fact I’d been the one to suggest it made it seem as though I wanted it. “You have those little stitches when you’re full demon mode. You could do something like that with me,” I said with an encouraging grin.

He thought about it, and as he did, I felt a small bit of resistance within myself. I wouldn’t be able to talk, if he sewed my mouth into a smile. I didn’t even want this. I disregarded those thoughts. He used magic, so it’d be fine. Of course I wanted it, that’s why I’d suggested it. Another wave of calm washed over me, erasing all doubt and reaffirming the idea that I wanted to please him and that I’d do whatever was necessary.

“Very well,” he said, after a moment. He walked around his room, and talked to Niffty briefly, then turned back to me. “Be a dear and sit on the bed. This will be quite unpleasant.” I did so, and a bit later he’d gotten what he needed from Niffty and dismissed her. She didn’t question any of what was happening. Alastor sat besides me on his bed, holding a needle. Now it was just the two of us.

“Are you sure you can handle this?” He asked, amused as he used his magic to form a bright green thread. It matched my eyes. I looked back to him with a smile. He knew I wouldn’t- couldn’t- deny him now.

“I’m sure,” I said with a nod.

He nodded in turn and finished preparing. He turned on the radio and played some tunes as he repositioned me. Then, he began.

It was a sharp pain, unbearable. I wasn’t numb at all. He hummed along to the radio as he worked and I tried not to squirm. He paused, a few stitches in, and injected something in my neck again.

“Smile as wide as you can, and don’t you stop,” he said, tapping on his microphone. “Don’t move. Scream if you’d like. I think having another addition to my broadcast would be quite nice.”

I didn’t respond, feeling my body lock up. I couldn’t move if I wanted to. “Oh dear, I forgot to mention! You can’t physically scream, of course, it’d only ruin all my hard work. Anytime you try to, it’ll come out of my microphone instead,” he explained, matter of fact, as he got back to work. “That’s an eerie thing, isn’t it? I find it has a certain sort of lovely effect, hearing it like that. Awfully unsettling, too.”

I winced as he started up again. Piercing my skin, pulling the thread through, pausing to clear the blood every now and again. I could’ve sworn it was more painful than before. Every small movement seemed to make it more and more unbearable, despite his technique never changing. It wasn’t long before small noises sounded from the microphone- little attempts not to scream. He smiled wider, amused at my determination.

“Come on now, don’t be shy,” he said playfully. The next time he was more forceful, shoving the needle through my flesh harshly, roughly. It didn’t feel like it was just a needle, it felt as though I was being stabbed with a particularly sharp knife that dealt a fatal blow. I screamed.

The sound came from the microphone rather than my own mouth. In reality, I hadn’t moved at all. Whatever he’d done had made me unable to, so I was still just smiling as he worked. The sound of my voice with that radio effect, not even coming from my own mouth was more than unsettling. I screamed again, panic setting in. My eyes weren’t as green as before. They were slowly returning to normal.

“There we go,” he praised lightly, continuing without a care in the world. He chuckled softly and moved painstakingly slow, resuming his more gentle and careful approach, working with precision.

It seemed to go on for eternity, my face aching from keeping up the smile alone, the added pain of each stitch only fueled my screams. He smiled in delight as he watched.

Finally, he set the needle down. “All finished,” he said gleefully. I opened my eyes and looked at him, the effects of whatever he’d put in my long gone by now. “You look wonderful, darling! I must say, this is likely my best work yet.”

He helped me sit up, and set his microphone aside. It was no longer necessary, I could move and talk now that he was finished. He held up a mirror and I gasped softly. My eyes were wide a mixture of awe and terror as I reached up and gently brushed my fingers along the stitches. It stung.

“Now, don’t get any ideas of trying to undo it,” he said with a grin of his own, setting the mirror aside. “These are magic, after all. I’ve made sure they’ll last an eternity!”

“But… but Charlie and Husk and the others,” I mumbled, still in shock. “They’ll know.”

“Not to worry, my dear, nobody will know about this! You’ll stay in here with me for a few hours more and they’ll turn invisible, like they do for me,” he said. His enthusiasm was clear. He was having fun with this. “Now I get to have your darling smile all the time! Isn’t that just wonderful?”

“Wonderful,” I repeated, under my breath. I was still trying to process. He didn’t seem to notice.

“Exactly!” He exclaimed, wrapping an arm around my shoulder.

God, I was still in so much pain. I had a feeling it’d be like that for a long while. He was the radio demon, after all, and he did own my soul. I was stuck with him, and stuck like this.

He hummed to himself, touching my face carelessly, admiring his handiwork. “Green is such a great colour on you, my dear,” he said brightly. “I do admire it. You look stunning.”

#alastor the radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #hazbin hotel #the radio demon #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor x reader #writing #alastor fanfiction #hazbin fanfic #hazbin hotel fanfiction

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mavrintarou · 6 months

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[Daddies in December] Namikaze Minato

I am on a roll! Lol. Not Haikyuu but... you have to admit, Minato is quite a daddy. Not how I would have liked to write my first story on Minato - it is dark (well, I consider his behavior dark).

Warning: manipulating Minato, explicit pregancy smut. If you're new, this is my third day writing a Daddies in December - check out Akaashi and Sakusa in my masterlist :)

For the last ten minutes, Minato observed Y/n sleeping peacefully, even after a night of lovemaking in the early hours. His fingers gently caressed her cheek, and he smiled whenever her brows furrowed, drawing her closer to his comforting arms.

He tightens his arms around her, molding her body into his as he rests his chin on the crown of her head.

Y/n let out a soft sigh, wrapping an arm around his waist.

I’m never going to let you go, he thought to himself.

He will live with the sins of breeding her to keep her by his side. That was the only way he was sure he could tie her to him for life. He knew Y/n was loyal and dreamed of a family. Who would be best to make that happen? Him. She did not realize it yet, but he was the best thing she had and he was the only thing she needed. Together, they will raise their child and live happily.

He kept track of her monthly cycle, timing her fertile days and the day she ovulated to ensure an almost guaranteed pregnancy. He then monitored her symptoms, kept a close on her, and continued to shower her with affection.

When he would feel her hesitate or feel her feelings and affection change, he would reel her back in.

Who was there for her when the pipes in her apartment building burst? Him.

Who was there for her when a stranger tried to rob her? Him.

“Stay close to me, Y/n. I’ll protect you. Only I can protect you.” He cooed, calming her down.

A month and a half goes by and Minato continued to pay close attention to her body, seeing if his cum had taken place but Y/n showed no signs of being pregnant.

He wasted no time fucking her at any chance he got. He punctured all the condoms he purchased with a needle, even a few times just in case.

Minato was becoming possessive by the day and all that was on his mind was Y/n.

He had accidentally slipped, scaring her.

“You’re supposed to be mine!” he shouted, angry that Y/n could not understand why he wouldn’t allow her to go out with her colleagues. He quickly tried to apologize, turn the tables that he was just insecure because he didn’t trust her male colleagues to not make a move on her.

He could see it in her eyes as she tried to play it off that it wasn’t a big deal but he knew Y/n, he knew she was plotting to run.

Run from him.

And he wasn’t going to allow it.

But this one time, he did. He knew he would get her back soon enough.

He let her go for a week, it killed him. Minato kept a close eye on her, hired someone to keep a tab on her every move and to keep her safe.

Until the day came…

He smiled as he opened the door, seeing a complete mess Y/n. “Come here, baby.” He opened his arms and she crashed into him, finding peace in him.

The words she said to him over the phone repeated over in his head, “I’m pregnant, Minato… what do we do?”

“We’re going to get married,” he responded with a firm yet gentle tone. “I am committed to doing the honorable thing – marrying you and ensuring that you and our child bear my last name.” She opened her mouth to protest when he pressed a finger to her lips, “it is the right thing to do for our child, we must think about them now, not us.” Knowing he was right, he pulled her into his arms, “leave everything to me. Everything will be alright. You just worry about staying healthy for our baby.”

He moved Y/n into his condo, remodeling his place to accommodate a child.

“Everything I do is for you and baby,” Minato whispered, tilting her chin and pressing his lips to hers. He smiled when she kissed him back, hungrily.

Y/n mumbled something and wiggled in his arms, trying to put space between them.

“What?” he asked.

“Too hot…” she repeated, still half asleep. “Too hot…”

Minato clicked his tongue and loosened his hold on her as she rolled around in his arms, away from him. She kicked the comforters, exposing her naked body.

His morning wood had been aching and he has been putting it off.

Scooting closer, he spooned her. His hand reached around and between her legs, a satisfied smile on his face as he felt how wet she was considering he had wiped her down.

“Y/n,” he cooed, slipping a finger into her heat.

“No – no more…” she tried to push his hand away, yet her thighs closed in.

“I need you,” he whispered, lifting her leg to slide his cock in between her thighs. Her soft whimper was all he needed to know that she was giving in to him. “I need you, badly… please?”

She looked over her shoulders, “be… gentle…”

Pressing a kiss to her naked shoulder, “promise.” He shift her half on her front side and moved behind on top of her. Bending her leg, he guide his cock into her wet pussy.

He could never have enough of her.

He rocked slowly, reminding himself to be gentle.

Minato reach to massage her tit, before spreading his palm against her belly.

When he first met her, he knew she was his. She was already beautiful to his eyes but with the glow of her pregnancy, Minato vowed he was going to keep that glow in her.

If that meant he would keep putting a baby in her, he would. She glowed so beautifully.

“Mina…” she reached for his arm, “f – faster…”

“You said you gentle…” he teased, snapping his hips. He lift her leg, hooking it over his shoulder.

“Gentle and fast…”

“And deeper?”

“And deeper.”

Minato nipped her ankle, and gripped her thigh, holding it in place as he rocked deeper into her. His thumb found her swollen clit and began rubbing.

“No – no… I’ll cum…”

“That’s the whole point,” he chuckled, he too was close to cumming. Y/n tensed and twisted her body, cumming on his cock as he fasten his hips until he ejaculated.

He pressed a kiss to her ankle, the fresh teeth mark before setting her leg down. Leaning over he pressed a kiss to her lips, “good morning.”

. . .

E/n: This man... nothing edited, just whipping these at the moment.

>>> @queenelleee @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy

#naruto fandom #minato namikaze #minato smut #minato fluff #minato scenario #minato x reader #minato x y/n #naruto smut #minato namikaze x y/n #minato namikaze x reader

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faithshouseofchaos · 7 months

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Adventures of Cat!Max x reader (eventual werewolf!daniel) part 2️⃣

Tagged— @toasttt11 @moss-on-tmblr @norrisleclercf1 @reidsworld @80sloverry @personal-fic-archive @inkfablesandstories @giffywiffy3408 @hollie911 @sarahedwards16 @badassturtle13 @other ako5811 @tooprinceangel @omgsuperstarg @eugene-emt-roe @lollypop90907 @lollypop90907 @laura-naruto-fan1998 @harmonity-vibes @u5dthsduttd

The next morning up to a light weight warm sensation on your chest opening up your eyes you remember that the events from last night were real and not just a dream. The orange was staring down at you purring and blinking slowly kneading at your blanket.

“Ok baba i gotta get up”

“Meow meeooow”

The cat huffed and jumped down to the floor letting you get up out of bed and getting ready for the day.

You checked your local facebook page to see if anyone had been missing their cat and to your surprise no one was missing him. Sighing and closing out the app you called the local vet and asked if you could come in. The lady on the phone said it was fine.

You got out the cat carrier you had and put the cat inside of it.

“Don’t freak out on me now bubba okay it’s only for a couple hours I promise” you said to the cat who was meowing like crazy he definitely was not happy. Putting on your red bull hoodie the cat stopped meowing and stared at you.

“Why are you a red bull fan or something baba?” You joked smiling not knowing that your new cat was in fact Max Verstappen. Eventually you made it to the vet for Babas check up.

You waited in the waiting room until they called you back to see the vet.

“Okay miss.Y/l/n what do we have here?” The vet asked.

“I need my cat checked out just to be sure that everything is fine he showed up at my door last night”

“Alright first we’ll scan him for a Microchip and check for any ink marking that would identify the cat” the vet says opening up the cat carrier.

“Oh he’s a pretty cat and big too.”

“Yeah he’s a big boy that’s for sure”

You watched as the vet scanned his body and checked him out, not finding any proof that he belonged to anybody.

“Alright Miss. Y/l/n we are going to give him the full work’s Microchipping, and shots now for the Microchip we’ll need a name for him. Do you have anything in mind?”

“Ah yes I was thinking Baloo but Baba for short”

“That’s cute we had a patient come in with a dog named Max Furstappen”

“That’s adorable”

“So here’s the website for the Microchip so later today log on with the identification tag number and put in your information down it’s really simple and now for the tough part giving him his shots”

“What kind of shots?”

“Well we have a 5 in 1 shot which is Fevac 5 is an inactivated vaccine that protects against Feline Enteritis, Feline Rhinotracheitis, Feline Calicivirus, Feline Chlamydia and Feline Leukemia plus the typical Rabies vaccine”

As soon as the vet brought out the needles Max immediately changed. He was not happy Max did not like getting shots.

“Oh baba please behave you were going so well” you coaxed the cat right as he jumped into your arms not moving becoming stiff.

“Alright just keep holding him I’m gonna stick real quick” when the vet stuck Max with the needle he dug his claws into your arms.

“Ow Bubba that hurts ” you said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Max didn’t mean it, he really didn't, he just hated getting shots even as a child he hated it. During the car ride home Max felt sick he knew it was the shots making him feel like crap. He wanted a life were he could get away so it was just something he had to deal with in the mean time.

#max verstappen x reader #red bull formula 1 #max verstappen fluff #daniel ricciardo x max verstappen #max verstappen x you #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen icons #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen #max verstappen x daniel ricciardo x reader #cat!max verstappen x reader #faiths supernatural f1!aus

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kimoralov3 · 5 months

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Back Home to You

pairing: tasm!peter parker x reader

description: peter made a mistake letting you go. it takes traveling to another universe for him to do something about it

warnings: reader uses she/her pronouns, swearing, angst, fluff

word count: 2171

a/n: i wrote this all in one sitting after rewatching nwh so don't come at me for the quality. also tagging @arkofblake because i told her about this last night and she freaked

read it on ao3

“Peter? Where are you?” You asked as you walked into your shared apartment, putting away your coat and your purse. By the time you had gotten your shoes off, there was still no response. “Peter?”

“In the bathroom.” You heard his voice softly call. It sounded as if he was in pain, so you rushed to see what was happening.

Peter’s suit was halfway off, a large gash on his right side and smaller cuts and bruises littered around the rest of his body. He was currently attempting to stop the bleeding without much luck.

“Oh my god, Peter.” You mumbled as you walked over to him, grabbing the towel from him. You pressed it into the wound, causing him to wince in pain. “Sorry, sorry, this is the only way to stop the bleeding. What happened?”

“I was trying to stop Vulture and he got the better of me. It’s really not a big deal, I’ve had worse.” Peter says through clenched teeth. You roll your eyes at that, quickly peeking to see if the bleeding had stopped yet. It hadn’t. “What?”

“Nothing, Peter. I just— I’m tired of seeing you like this.” You say as you grab his hand and place it over the towel, making sure that Peter kept the right amount of pressure on it as you got the first aid supplies out.

“What do you mean? Seeing me like what?” He asks as he turns to face you. You ignore him, getting out the needle and thread, as well as the disinfectant. “Y/N, what do you mean by ‘seeing you like this’?”

“Peter, you have a fucking gash the size of Texas on your side. Don’t act dumb.” You snap as you remove the towel from his side, wiping the excess blood away. Peter groaned in pain again, flinching away.

“Y/N, I knew what I was getting into when I became Spider-Man. A couple rough days are nothing to me. I’ll be fine.” Peter says as he gently places a hand on your shoulder. You mumble something under your breath as you thread the needle, although Peter couldn’t understand what you said. “What?”

“Peter now is not the best time to have this conversation. Let’s just drop it.” You say dismissively as you get ready to stitch up Peter’s wound.

He rolls his eyes, deciding to let it go for now. Once you had gotten him stitched up and left, Peter was left to his thoughts as he showered off. What could you possibly be talking about? Yes, being Spider-Man was dangerous, but he knew that. You knew that, and you accepted it. At least, that’s what he had previously thought.

He got out of the shower a few minutes later, getting dressed, and heading into the living room to see you pacing back and forth. “Y/N? What’s going on?”

“I don’t think I can do this anymore, Peter.” You whisper as you continue pacing. Peter gives you a confused look, stepping closer and placing his hands on your arms to stop you.

“Do what? What can’t you do anymore?” He whispers softly as he looks into your eyes, hands moving up to cup your cheeks.

“Us. I don’t think I can do this relationship anymore.” You say. In that moment Peter’s whole world crumbles. What had he done wrong? How had he made you unhappy?

You placed your hands over Peter’s, moving them off of you. “It’s not something you’ve done necessarily, it’s just… I’m not cut out for this anymore. I can’t stand to watch you come home like this every day. You’re not taking care of yourself properly, and I’m scared that—” You’re cut off by a burning feeling in your throat, tears welling in your eyes. You take a step back, wiping them away.

“Scared that what, Y/N?” Peter asked, tears forming in his eyes now.

“I’m scared that you won’t come back, Peter. I’m scared that one day, I’m gonna come home and instead of you there’ll be police at my door, telling me that my boyfriend died fighting some giant fucking lizard, or a guy who has some high-tech suit that costs more than our whole apartment building! I want more for myself, but most importantly I want more for you. And I wish that I was the type of person to be selfish, and ask you to give up doing what you love. But I’m not. So I’m leaving. It’s better for the both of us.”

There’s a moment of silence. Neither of you know what to say. Peter wants you to stay. He wants to tell you that he’ll do better, that he’ll be better for you. But he can’t. Because he knows what that means, and as much as he would like to think so, he’s not ready to stop putting his all into being Spider-Man. Even if it means losing you.

The silence is enough for you. You take a deep breath, moving past Peter to your bedroom to pack some clothes. You come back a few minutes later with a duffel bag and your purse. “If you change your mind, I’ll be staying with my sister.”

Those are the final words Peter hears from you before you leave the apartment. Before you leave him.

—

Peter never considered himself to be jealous— especially of other people’s relationships. But seeing how much Peter 1 and MJ cared for and trusted each other— it made him sick. Not because they didn’t fit together— it was almost as if they were made for each other. It was because it reminded him of you. Of what the two of you had before he went and fucked it all up.

The first few weeks after you left were hard for Peter. He’s ashamed to admit that he stopped being as kind as he was before. Quite a few of the villains he ran into left their encounters beaten within an inch of their lives. He stopped visiting May as much as he used to— which he really regretted because she had done nothing wrong and was honestly the only person he could’ve gone to about his troubles.

But he isolated himself because he thought that that was what was best. It wasn’t, he knew that now. After he finally realized that he was just proving your point, he started to better himself. He stopped being reckless, started thinking about why he was actually doing what he was doing.

By now he knew he was a much better man than he had ever been when he was with you. But it wasn’t enough, at least not in his mind. He’d almost texted and called you multiple times, even showed up on your doorstep a few times. But he could never bring himself to say or do what he needed.

For now, he was content with just checking in on you every once in a while. You had found an apartment about 15 minutes away from where the two of you used to live. You had decorated it nicely. That was always something you were good at, figuring out what looked good together.

“What are you thinking about?” Peter 2 asked, grabbing Peter’s attention.

“Nothing.” He said quickly, prompting Peter 2 to give him a knowing look. “It’s just…seeing them together reminds me of someone.” He says with a little smile.

“Oh? Is this someone someone special?” Peter 2 asks as he takes off his saftey goggles.

“She was—is. She is special to me.” Peter mumbles as he finishes writing the equation for the formula.

“Was? What happened?”

The question causes Peter to sigh. “I fucked up, really bad. She cared so deeply for me, and I took that for granted.”

“Yeah, I get what you mean. I think that’s one of the downsides of doing what we do, especially if you don’t have everything together. It’s usually the ones we love the most that end up getting hurt by our foolishness.”

Peter takes a moment to think on what was said. “Wow, that was really deep.” He pauses for a moment before continuing. “So, how did you get the courage to try and win her back?”

“Honestly? I didn’t. I ran into her one day and everything just…came pouring out of me. If we hadn’t of run into each other, I honestly don’t think I’d ever have gotten the courage to talk to her again.” Peter 2 explained as he worked. Peter nodded, understanding what he meant.

He had a lot to think about when he got back home.

—

When he had finally gotten back to his home—his universe— Peter had immediately collapsed on his bed. He had every intention of going to you that night, but it was extremely late, he was tired, and he had just fought off 5 different villains. The man needed his rest.

That rest turned into 2 days, then 4, then a whole week, and he still hadn’t gone to speak with you. Again, he had fully intended to, but something was stopping him. He kept telling himself that he was going to do it the next day, but he knew deep down that that was a lie.

It was late at night when he got the urge to see you again. This had become a normal occurrence over the past few years. On nights when it was pretty tame, he would sit on the fire escape of your apartment and make sure you were alright. Sure, it was a little strange but he didn’t particularly care.

Only this time, when he came to perch on your fire escape, you were sitting on your windowsill, a mug in your hands. “Hello, Peter.” You say with a soft smile as he lands.

He gives you an awkward smile, shifting uncomfortably on his feet. He wasn’t used to this feeling, especially when it came to you. “Hey.”

“You know, for a superhero, you’re not the most stealthy person in the world.” You say as you hand him the mug. “It’s tea, just the way you like it.”

“Thank you.” He says. He takes a sip, humming at the taste. He looks up at you behind the mug. “So, are you uh, are you upset that I’ve been spying on you?”

“No. I expected it.” You whisper with a giggle, leaning your head against the windowsill. Peter nods, not sure of what to say. He sets the mug down, running his hands over his face. He couldn’t believe that he was doing this.

“Look, Y/N, I am so sorry for how things ended 3 years ago. I hate that I hurt you, that I made you worry about me when I wasn’t even worried about myself. I took your words to heart and I got better. I stopped being impulsive and started being more calculated. And I so badly wanted to come to you, but I just… I couldn’t. I didn’t want to risk hurting you again.” He finishes, slightly out of breath. There was a moment where nothing but looks were exchanged. Finally, you got up and walked over to him. “What are you doing?” Peter asked softly as he looked down at you.

You don’t say anything, just smile and pull his face down so that your lips touch gently. He practically melts into the kiss, his arms finding their spot around your waist once again. He’s missed this. You’ve missed this.

When you pull away from each other, it’s all smiles. Peter is grinning like a child on Christmas and you love it, reaching your hand up slightly to move his hair out of his face.

“Does this mean that you forgive me?” He whispers. You chuckle at that, playfully rolling your eyes.

“You get a kiss like that and you’re questioning whether or not I forgive you?” You ask, causing Peter to throw his head back with laughter.

“What, I feel like it’s a fair question. Don’t leave me hanging.” He says as he playfully shakes the two of you.

You laugh, shaking your head at his antics. “Yes, Peter Parker. I forgive you.”

This causes the smile on Peter’s face to grow even wider. He leans down, giving you another kiss. You lean up into it, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer.

“I love you, Y/N. And I promise that I will never, never hurt you again. And if I do, I give you full permission to beat my ass and never look back.” He says once the two of you pull away.

“I don’t think that I’ll need to do that, but thank you for that.” You say with a smile. Peter and you share another laugh, before you turn and look inside your apartment. “It’s a little chilly out here, why don’t we head back inside?”

Peter hums, allowing you to pull him into the warmth of your apartment. He was glad to have a sense of normalcy back in his life.

#peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter fluff #tasm!peter angst #tasm!peter fanfiction #tasm!peter fanfic #tasm!peter imagine #kimoralov3

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faeriekit · 8 months

Text

Health and Hybrids (XIV)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and the prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

PART ONE is here PART TWOis here PART THREE is here PART FOUR is here and PART FIVE is here PART SIX is here and PART SEVEN is here PART EIGHT is here PART NINE is here PART TEN is here PART ELEVEN is here PART TWELVE is here PART THIRTEEN is here and this is part fourteen! Yes I messed it up this morning yes I had to wait all day to correct it it's all goooood

💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts

Where we last left off... Bart is a good egg who is having a Bad Time waiting for his friend :(

Trigger warnings for this story: body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) | my nonexistent attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

Danny wakes up with a gasp.

He’s—where is he? Everything hurts. He can barely think. Danny groans, long and loud, and lifts up an aching hand to his temple.

His fingers come away green. Aw, fuck. What happened to him? What’s going on? Why is his hand…blurry? Is he concussed? Is something wrong with his eyes, or with his head??

(He hopes it’s not his head. It’s waaay easier to heal from one than the other.)

Danny tries to sit up, and— NOPE. Ow. Bad idea. Suuuuuch a bad idea. His arms and hands and his neck and his back are screaming at him, now that he’s awake enough to pay attention. Ughhhhhhhhhhh.

He lays back down. His eyes don’t—well, they don’t shut all the way, which part of his brain labels as very bad, actually, but the world does turn darker and greener as he tries to shut his eyes, and that’s close enough to closing his eyes that Danny can mostly zone out past the pain.

He licks his sore lips. They taste like copper. And battery acid. …And Pixie Sticks.

Ugh, ecto-blood. His own, he assumes.

Everything is blurry and everything kind of hurts and he doesn’t know how he got here or what’s going on. Danny tries to roll over, tries to get more comfortable, but something starts dragging on the inside of his arm, which means intravenous lines.

Ugggghhhh. He hopes it’s got pain meds at least.

Awake him can deal with this later. Danny zones out, his labored breathing evens.

He’s asleep before he knows it.

Danny wakes up next to quiet murmuring, and to weird sensation of something moving in his arm.

He yawns—and his jaw cracks apart farther than usual, with more clicking noises than his jaw usually makes. Weird. His arms come up, his eyes unblur…

The tugging sensation doesn’t go away. Danny sniffs blearily. Blinks.

Two white-coated humans(…?) in PPE pause at his bedside, a half-dissembled IV shared between them.

Danny stops breathing. He can’t—is he—

His eyes go to the ceiling. The floor. He doesn’t recognize the room he’s in. He doesn’t understand. Is this the Guys in White again? Is he— Did he never leave? Is he trapped? Danny doesn’t—he can’t—

—One of the white coats starts making worried noises, which. Danny’s never heard that before. It’s usually threats. They raise both their arms, and Danny flinches back—

…And so do they. Huh. Hm. Are the Guys hiring scaredy cats now? That would be a change of pace, if they were as scared of Danny as Danny is of them.

The second person clicks the new IV bag into place. Danny stops focusing on number one and starts focusing on number two.

They don’t make any overt tells either. The IV line is already in him, and the bag is… Well. It’s not red and Danny’s not in any pain, and it’s not green either. It’s just. Kinda opaque? Milky? The person doesn’t start cackling evilly or telling Danny how screwed he is, either. They both just sort of…tidy up?

The first one doesn’t get closer, either, but Danny can mostly tell that they’re scanning him visually. Their attention goes from his face, to Danny’s visible arm, to the puncture point in his elbow for the IV needle.

Danny also eyes his IV point. Well. It looks like a needle. Doesn’t hurt all that much.

Someone says something he doesn’t catch. But the tone isn’t…mean, or anything. If anything, it sounds quiet, and low, like they’re trying to keep him calm.

Danny doesn’t understand.

He moves as far out of the way of them as possible. It only has the effect of a few inches and it's so painfully slow. If that. He— he remembers. He’s supposed to be scared of— something. No, he knows it—

The labs. He’s supposed to be scared of the labs. The smell is rank there and there’s always screaming and Danny had been hurt there; really, really hurt.

He’s still hurt. He’s still in a lab. In a room. In some sort of too-small prison, and now his barely-sewn together lungs are trying too hard to keep air in his body and it’s not working, and—

Danny barely pays attention when the first doctor leaves. He sees the other back into the door and reach for the phone line, and he can’t stop breathing and he can’t calm down because that means that they’re calling for help and they’re going to hurt him all over again. Tie him down. Cut him open. Shock him, until he can’t breathe without screaming—

Someone new comes in. They look— rushed. Danny can see her actively tying up long black hair, threading a mask up over her face, pulling on one of those paper shifts the doctors wear. The only difference is that she doesn’t put boot covers on.

She has big, bright boots that go all the way up her legs. With his green vision, they look kind of…greyish? (Maybe they’re pink..?)

Either way. They look…ridiculous. Danny doesn’t exactly forget to be scared, but also…what the fuck.

The woman sees that Danny can see her. She waves.

Danny presses back against his— cot. Bed.

That doesn’t stop her. She pulls latex gloves from out of the paper slip she’s wearing and snaps them on, revealing a thin layer of something shiny underneath her elastic-bound sleeves. Once that’s on, she does a visible body checkup of herself: boots, gown, gloves, mask, hair.

…No hair net, though. Or goggles. The Docs in White always wanted to be fully covered when they saw their victims. Being able to see her eyes is a lot…friendlier.

She figures herself out. Straightens. Gives a double thumbs up.

…Danny's eyes roam around. There’s no one nearby. There's only a wall behind him. Is she looking at…him? Is that directed to him?

She doesn’t move immediately— and once she’s in, the second doctor leaves the room entirely.

…The new person takes over. She goes from monitor to monitor, getting closer, but with none of the focus on Danny, per se. She reads his stats, verbalizes them out loud, which, doesn’t sound like…English? But enough to confuse him? It’s kind of like trying to discern Esperanto when he's not thinking about how it's not English.

Ancients. The pounding in his head is getting worse. Maybe Danny has a concussion or something.

The woman doesn’t…get. Him. In fact, he seems to be the least interesting thing in the room to her. Her time is spent on reading the charts and the machines waiting around him, putting something into a…fridge? A Cabinet? In the corner of his room? And otherwise, she leaves him alone.

Until. She does get up and look at him, and all of Danny tenses up painfully. He can’t move. Something’s holding down his legs, his body’s stiff, and all of him is so tired that he genuinely can’t tell if his waist is tied down or if he’s just that exhausted.

He can hear his heart rate monitor kick up. He can’t move, not really. He tries to go intangible but his core just throbs with misery, and—

She mostly just pats his sheets. Not his person, even. Apparently the torture is being held off for now. “Eow eart wel?”

…Danny squints. That is almost English.

“Eom hebbjan yift,” she adds, leadingly, as if Danny is a friend she can tease and not a subject under threat of the knife. He doesn't like it. It hurts. Nothing is real and everyone hates him and all he wants to do is leave but his body is rejecting him and—

Something light and plastic thumps down onto the bed.

Danny blinks. He looks—down. (His neck makes him regret that.)

Is that a…is that a space shuttle? No, ‘cause Danny thinks he recognizes it. It’s Discovery? Isn’t it? That’s the one they just retired. He tries to grab it, but— ouch, oof, his fingers can’t even stretch, bad idea—

The woman gently guides the shuttle into his hand. It doesn’t even hurt. And.

It’s cold to the touch. The model is plastic, it shouldn’t be so cold, but the sensation is distinctly cool and kind of familiar.

…Oh. Danny struggles to flex his fingers around the thing.

It’s him.

Or. Well. The shuttle is his. It has his ectoplasm imbued all throughout it. He can even sort of feel the sensation of carefulplayingcareful he’d have felt while near it. The feeling is weak, and timid, but it’s still there.

So. Then. When did he get it? And…why? Why was it allowed to him? How did he get it?

Is this how they’re feeding him now? Instead of showering him with poorly filtered ectoplasm every time he gets rowdy, are they actually trying to feed his Obsession? For real?? That’s—that’s brand new behavior from the—

Danny blinks. Wait. That’s not it either. Because there’s an IV in him. So…they know he’s getting human food.

So. Uh.

Hm.

Danny doesn’t want to get his hopes up. But this…might not be the Guys in White.

Of course, they might not be better than the GIW either; it’s a total possibility that Danny’s getting suckered into some scheme where every gentle permission and soft voice is a debt he owes…some new reason to take…

His eyelids twitch as they try to shut. He’s so tired. Fear kept him mobile, but now…everything is so heavy.

The lady carefully shushes him, ever so gently. She pulls up his blanket for him. Pats it down.

Danny shivers. He’s so, so scared.

“Ræste þiht,” the woman whispers. The words sound fond. Danny’s so scared, but he’s so tired. His heart is beating so fast. “An freond becymþ hraðe.”

It’s reassuring.

Danny doesn’t want it to be.

He falls asleep the way the desperate do—clawing at the last traces of wakefulness, only to have his consciousness ripped from him.

#Diana: Hi friend! :) I'm glad you're awake!#Danny: *dialling 911 and failing* HELLO???? POLICE?? ANYONE?? HELP???#HE'S UP AND HE'S PEOPLE!#also shoutout to everyone who thought Danny was too concussed for English. Nope! This is a Fundamentally Different English y'all.#health and hybrids #dp x dc #dpxdc #dcxdp #danny phantom #tw gore #tw medical #tw body horror #dcu crossover

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bloodynereid · 1 month

Note

may i request jordan li taking caring of a very sick gn reader? bonus points if they have to get tests run and are terrified of needles!! (i might be projecting onto reader just a lil bit okay). anyways hope you’re doing okay and have a nice day/night!! - 🧚🏻

I'm With You

pairing: jordan li x gn! reader

tw: mentions of needles, sick people, doctors

description: jordan has never had to deal with sick people until their partner suddenly comes down with something.

a/n: this is from november??? i am literally so sorry. anyways i hope you enjoy this little drabble even though it took me ages to write haha. the reader is a human in this btw! i don't think supes can get sick?? so i just went with the safer bet. i kind of toned down the terrified of needles bit but i still hope this is okay. also i didn't edit this at all so if there's any glaring mistakes pls let me know.

You feel a hand across your forehead, making an effort to open your eyes. You have to blink a few times until Jordan’s face comes into focus. They don’t look happy. She has a distracted look on their face and their eyes are flashing with panic.

“Jord-” You start to say, the individual sounds feeling like granite against your vocal cords.

“Shhh, sweetheart. Don’t talk. It’s okay, you’re going to be okay.” Jordan said the last bit with a hurried tone before the cool hand on your forehead is suddenly pulled away. You whimper slightly as you hear scuffling around the side of your head.

Everything hurt. It was like a weight had settled over your entire body, making you too weak to even lift your head.

“Yeah? Hello? Marie I don’t know what to do, they’re not moving.” The sound of Jordan’s voice got muffled and a loud ringing echoed in your ears. A few moments later you drifted back off to sleep - unaware of Jordan’s growing panic.

It’s the next morning, or rather midday when you wake up. The feeling of horrible aches everywhere still persists but the world is less blurry.

“Hey. You’re awake.”

“Jordan.” You instantly cringe at the rasp of your voice, as you look up at your partner. They are carrying a mug of something which he puts down on the bedside table.

“Don’t try to talk okay? How do you feel about going to the doctors?” You obviously make a disgusted expression because Jordan’s face falls slightly.

“I just- You scared the hell out of me last night. I think we need to get you checked out. At least that’s what Marie recommended. Supes don’t really get sick so I have no idea what the protocol is like here. I can’t go through last night again.”

You feel a pang of guilt as you look at Jordan’s distraught face so you nod slightly. It’s probably best you go to the doctor anyway, even if it was going to hurt like a bitch.

You were right but at least Jordan helped you out to the car and gave you quite a few painkillers which dulled the ache in your muscles. The feeling of the car ride lulled you right back to sleep as the low sound of Jordan’s favorite playlist played in the background. Half an hour later you found yourself getting helped out of the car by Jordan, who easily carried most of your weight through the practice doors.

“Hi, we have an appointment. My partner has…” You tuned out of the conversation as you settled into one of the chairs in the waiting room. The sounds of elevator music seemed dull to you, even the clean smell of the room was somehow off.

“Hey we’re going to go in, yeah?” You looked up at Jordan and offered them a strained smile as you pushed yourself up from your seat, before leaning on him once again.

The appointment seemed to last hours as you tried to focus on the woman in front of you and answer her questions but your mind kept drifting out of the room and to the bed you knew was waiting for you at home.

“Okay I’m going to have to take some blood now. This might be more serious than it seems so we just need to make sure.” That sentence quickly focused your attention back, as the doctor pulled out a needle which instantly made you cringe.

Jordan must have sensed your anxiety as they leaned over and grabbed your hand. Carefully stroking the back of it to try and calm you.

“You’ll just feel a little pinch okay?” You nodded slightly and squeezed Jordan’s hand as the doctor found your vein and inserted the needle. You felt a few moments of pain before the doctor pulled away and quickly covered the area with a cotton swab.

“Okay all done. You’ll get the-” With that moment over you drifted off to daydream land again, and you only really came back into yourself when Jordan helped you into your bed.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“Not really.” You whispered, making Jordan wince sympathetically before they eased themselves so he was lying next to you.

“It’s going to be okay. I’m right here with you and we’ll get through this together. Yeah?”

You nodded against their shoulder as you cuddled into him. Letting your muscles relax and finally letting your eyelids fall shut. You felt safe next to them and you knew you always would be when you were around Jordan.

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swampstew · 10 months

Note

Can I request Buggy with Fluff N3 for the event? Thank you!! ❤️❤️❤️

Hello anon❤️ Thank you for your submission and patience! I hope you get a chance to read this :) You requested fluff, subtle intimacy, and I give you: [ Simple Touches ] Bandaging/stitching up an injury

Oh Captain, My Captain Buggy

Warnings: None. Fluff and cute stuffs. Ended up sorta sweet n' romantic in a way I wasn't anticipating but Buggy deserves it tbh, cutie but wet n' pathetic King of the Pirates❤️ Word count: 1.1K

“OOOOOWWWWW!”

You push through the pained howls of your Captain as you stitch up his latest injuries. For a man who had eaten the chop-chop fruit, he sure got brutally chopped up by other people more than he should reasonably be.

To be fair, his latest network of contacts involved some intense and no-nonsense individuals. Two in particular who seem to have a rather tight hold on his gorgeous blue head as he did their bidding and processed their contracts.

“DAMNIT Y/N that HURTS!” Buggy hollers at you, tears spilling down his face in pure agony. It makes your heart break. Still you push on.

“It will hurt more if it festers and worsens. Then we’d have to seriously chop pieces off you,” you chide him gently, done with pushing the needle through the tail end of the long gash on his chest. “This is going to sting a bit but I’ll count down from 3. 3—” you tightened the sutures securely before he could hold his breath.

“YYYYEEEEOOOOOWWWW!!!!” his head flew from his neck, as did his hands and feet from his body. “GRR!! YOU ENJOYED THAT TOO MUCH!” he spit at you.

You give him an unimpressed look, “You know that that’s not true. Now get back here. You have some wounds on your face and right hand that need to be disinfected and bandaged. If you can make it through without any complaints, I’ll give you a treat. Sound good?”

His head reattaches to his head but his hand floats down to grip his chin, “A treat? What kind of treat?”

“A nice one. We got a deal?”

With a nod, Buggy reassembles himself and sits still as you inspect each cut and bruise. Washing away the dirt and dried blood, applying a salve on the wounds, and wrapping each one in a bandage or long, woven cotton wrap to soak up any leaking from the cuts. A hushed song brews in your throat and without realizing it, you start to emit the tune from your lips as you patch him up.

Buggy watches you closely as you lightly hum to yourself while you work. Normally, he would literally talk his ass off about anything and everything – but watching you treat him so tenderly has his mouth dry and his mind quiet. Trying to understand the feelings in his chest that you cause him to have with your firm but kind personality. Not understanding why you treat him with such dignity and warmth despite his antics; you’re one of the few people who sees through his bullshit but you also accept it, encourage it even. In his brain playing back all his interactions with you over the last year that you’ve been on his crew to better understand what your deal is.

His eyes bug out of his head for a moment, a memory unearthing itself. With Alvida.

“I think the new doc likes you, Bugs,” she tilted her cowboy covered head at Buggy. When he gave her a confused look, she scoffed and used her head to gesture at you sitting at the bar with his most trusted men. “You’re telling me that you’ve NEVER noticed how much time they manage to spend with you, or how they always talk you up? That they know almost everything about you that not even your own crew knows about?” Buggy scoffed, “Most of my crew are idiots, why would I tell those morons anything?” Alvida gave him a bewildered look, “Then why do you share anything with the doc?” “I don’t share EVERYTHING!” “Oh no? So you haven’t spilled to them how Emperor Shanks is the only man you can respect as the next King of the Pirates?” His hands flew to her face and smothered her speech, “QUIET YOU DAMN WOMAN!”

Buggy felt like an idiot.

That was maybe three months ago.

“All done. You should heal up in no time but if you feel worse, you know where to find me.”

Buggy brought his hand to the back of his neck, “Yeah. Sure.” He wasn’t sure how to pivot from being a crybaby patient to a flashy guy with rizz when he suddenly felt…overly aware of how he acts around you. To be perceived by you and now knowing that you were perceiving him.

“Wh-where’s my treat?”

“Oh that’s right I do owe you a nice one. Wait right here.”

His mind is racing a mile a minute, trying to plan, trying to scheme a charming personality in 2-seconds flat as he watches you go to your desk and pull out a dark bottle. Buggy didn’t notice how attractive your face is as he did just now. He always thought you were the most attractive in the crew in general, but now he was seeing your face. And he found that…he actually quite liked it.

Your step falters are you become aware of his intense stare. You feel…insecure suddenly. Is there something gross on your face or scrubs? Does he not like liquor suddenly? Oh no, is your hair messy?? With a trembling hand you tuck some loose hair behind your ear and lightly touch your scrub as you present the bottle.

“An aged rum that I nicked from our last raid. I hear it’s a grossly expensive brand.”

Buggy took the bottle and rolls it in his hands quietly, not saying anything at all. You watch him nervously, anxiety eating at your gut, a hot flush spreading behind your ears and the back of your neck. You know for a fact that Buggy likes expensive things, no matter what it is. Even if he hates what it actually is, like that time he tried bull fighting fish caviar. He was laid up in your office for a week after that one. He still keeps a preserved jar around, just so he can say he has it on hand.

“I hear it goes well with steak, or something,” you mumble, confidence draining away slowly.

He perks up to that, “Steak? Oh yeah, yes that does sound like a good pairing.” He stands up from the cot and shifts on his feet.

Buggy the Star Clown is shooting his shot.

“If I make Cabaji cook up a few steaks, would you…be interested in joining me for dinner? A flashily impromptu date?”

Your eyes nearly bug out of your head, that being the last thing you expect to hear from him. You had been certain that you would have to ask him out yourself with all the hints and nudges you gave him in the past seemed to go, well, right over his head.

“Oh! Y-yes that sounds nice!”

Smiling, Buggy turns to exit. Passing through the threshold he turns back to add, “I’ll pick you up at your cabin later. Escort you to the dining hall and all that jazz.” He ducks out of the room.

You’re glad he isn’t there anymore because your knees weaken and you grab the cot in support. Thrilled, you look at your schedule and decide to close up early. The injured would have to stay injured on their time, you had an important date tonight.

#buggy the clown #buggy x reader #oh captain my captain mini event #eustasscaptainkid #swampstew bedtime stories #swampstew #swampstew stories #anon asks #buggy the star clown #captain buggy

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loveinhawkins · 1 year

Text

Part 1 Part 2 ao3 (Complete)

He has strange dreams.

Sometimes they’re not so bad. Sometimes he can hear Eddie’s voice encouraging him, “Yeah, there you go. That’s it, Steve, just keep breathing.”

Sometimes Eddie sounds strange, too, like he’s laughing and crying at the same time—muttering unsteadily, “C-come on, up you go. Shit, shit, shit. You’ve gotta help me out here, Steve.”

But then he’s flying, falling through darkness, and everything turns awful.

Fire. Flames all over his skin, burning, burning, and he has to kick, strike out, get away, but someone’s pinning him down—

“Y-you’ve gotta stay still. Wheeler, Wheeler, his leg, watch his—hey, Steve, shh, shh, just stop moving, man, please.”

Make it stop make it stop stop STOP STOP—

“Shh, shh, I know, I know. Take my hand, hey, you can break it, fucking go for it, man, I don’t care.”

Please I just want it to stop please please please just let me—

“Hey, hey, hey, you can’t go to sleep right now, okay? Just a little longer, Steve, we’re getting you some help, you’ve just gotta keep your eyes—”

It’s too much too much too much, just want it to end, I want I want—

“One more minute, Steve, you hear me? I’ll count, and then—you’re gonna be all right, this time it’ll be—”

YOU’RE LYING—

One last flash of lucidity.

Eddie. Eddie’s hand in his hair, Eddie’s lips against his temple, wet with tears.

“I’m sorry. I’m s-so—God, just. Please.”

Another dream.

A new voice. Makes him think of summer, and butterscotch ice-cream, and laughter.

“Hi, Steve. Got a present for you, so you—you’d better, um… God, you’d find this so damn f-funny, wouldn’t you? Guess it’s more proof we’re from the same womb, huh? Ugh, gross image, Rob, thanks. Sorry. Just thought I’d say it for you.”

Don’t cry, Robin. It’s okay. Don’t cry.

“Eddie.”

“What? Is Buckley okay? Wheeler.”

“Yeah, she’s—she’s fine. It’s—they said—”

“Oh God.”

“—it might not work.”

A strangled, pained noise. Footsteps. A door slamming.

Where are you going? Come back. Come back.

Sleep. Drift. Try to wake. Sleep.

He dreams of fire.

Fire.

Fire fire fire stop STOP—

Hand pressing down on his forehead, cold, cold, but he’s much too hot, he’s going to burn up, he can’t—he’s going to die, he’s dead already, it’s too much, it’s—

“Steve, Steve, just try and—hey, it’s just me, you’re okay, you’ve just gotta—oh Christ, please, Steve, just lie back. I know it’s hard, I know, I know.”

The scratch of a needle.

DANGER, GET AWAY, GET—

“Stop, stop! You’re hurting him, don’t you get it, you’re—”

A hand in his. Cold metal. Rings.

EddieEddieEddie

“Oh, holy shit.” Shocked laughter, breathless with relief. “That’s it, Steve, that’s it. Break my fucking fingers, dude, I dare you.”

Everything slips…

The fire goes out. Cold sweat. Shivering.

Lips on his temple. A kiss.

“You did it. You fucking did it, Steve, you’re amazing, you’re—that’s it, sweetheart, just breathe. Rest now. I’ve got you. Shh, I’ve got you.”

Sleep.

“Everyone’s fine, by the way. …God, it was fucking terrifying me, saying that out loud, y’know? Like I’d jinx it, or… Then I started thinking that you made a deal or something. Was the only way it made sense. Like, what are the odds that everyone else made it, and… Even me, man, thought I was a goner for… So I —I kinda pretended you’d made a trade, with God or the Devil or—I don’t know. Your life for… Wouldn’t put it past you. But that’s—that’s bullshit, okay? They… they don’t need saving anymore, Steve. They just need you.”

Wake.

Eyes too heavy to…

“Hey, hey, you’re good. Take it easy.”

Tongue slow. Throat scraped raw. Swallow.

Try.

“D’st’n. Dust…”

“Shh. Dustin’s just fine, Steve. Promised you, didn’t I?”

“H-hurt?”

“Nah, man. Not anymore.”

“You?”

“…Me?”

“Hurt?”

“Oh. I’m—I’m good, Steve. You sleep some more, ‘kay? You’ll feel better.”

Hand in his.

Gentle.

Safe.

Sleep.

Waking up properly is a slow, taxing thing. Eventually he blinks leaden eyelids open. Sees his left hand, lying limp: palm covered with gauze so only his fingers are really visible.

Footsteps, pacing the room. Back and forth, back and forth.

Eddie.

Steve wets his cracked lips and says the only thing he can.

“Dustin?”

Eddie freezes. Glances over. Lets out a shaky kind of scoff.

“He’s safe. D’you know how many times you’ve asked me that, Harrington?”

Steve tries to straighten up. Humours him.

“I dunno, twice?”

Eddie makes a noise imitating a klaxon, like Steve’s just got an answer wrong on a quiz show.

“Nope! Lost count after ten.”

Then Eddie looks at him, really looks at him, and he somehow gets even more still, as if he’s suddenly holding his breath.

“You’re—you’re back,” he says. “Can see it in your eyes. You’re really… fuck.”

He starts pacing again, his spine a rigid line of tension. Steve follows his every move, even though his eyes start to ache with the effort.

“You’re angry,” Steve says quietly.

Eddie shakes his head, breathes out a laugh through clenched teeth. “Yeah. Guess you could say that.”

He comes to an abrupt stop at the foot of the bed—a hospital bed, Steve realises, as one of Eddie’s hands grips the bottom rail, like he needs it to keep standing.

“This much,” Eddie says conversationally, and he shows his thumb and forefinger with barely any space between them.

“What?”

“That’s how close Henderson’s bite was to the femoral artery. Twenty seconds more? Hell, ten seconds? Those damn bats would’ve kept coming, and at least one of them would’ve fucking struck gold ‘cause I couldn’t fucking shield him properly in the goddamn first place, and he would’ve bled out in my arms. So yeah, Steve. I’m angry.”

“But that.” Steve frowns, hopes that he sounds understanding. Gentle. “That didn’t happen, Eddie.”

Eddie laughs again. He looks down, hair hanging so that Steve can’t see his face; he can see his knuckles on the bed frame though, turning white.

“I’m angry ‘cause you were right.” Eddie sucks in a breath, and when he raises his head, his eyes are burning. “I hate that you were right.”

“I don’t—”

“If you hadn’t done—done what you did.” Eddie falters, takes another breath. “Dustin would’ve died. I would’ve died. And I’m angry, I’m so fucking angry that that probably justifies it all for you.”

Steve sighs. “Justifies what?” he asks, though he suspects he already knows.

“That a world without you is any way fucking acceptable.”

Steve resists the urge to sigh again. “Eddie,” he says, tries to sound as matter-of-fact as he can without being a dick about it. “Look, man, I know you’re new to the whole—everything—but sometimes, things happen. People can get hurt, and—”

“No,” Eddie says. “No, you don’t get to do that. Don’t play that card. Yeah, I know I’m a fucking newborn to the whole alternate dimension shtick, but hey, the one thing I can say about myself is that I catch on pretty fucking quick.” He points at Steve, sharp and accusatory. “And I know if anyone else tried to pull the shit that y-you just—you would’ve stopped it in a heartbeat. I know you would have. So. Why?”

For a moment, Steve has to look away. He has the horrible feeling, suddenly, that Eddie’s eyes can see right through him. “Why what?”

“Why are you so determined that it has to be you?”

Steve swallows. He doesn’t know how to put it into words; doesn’t know how to say that his mind has played every scenario on a loop throughout the very worst of nights. That the thought of anyone else dying turns his world into static, the horror far too much to process. That, in comparison, the fear of his own death seems small. Trivial.

So instead, he looks Eddie right in the eye, because the guy deserves that, at least.

“Anyone else wasn’t an option,” Steve gets out.

He means for it to sound strong, determined, but he doesn’t think he succeeds, because Eddie’s eyebrows furrow like he can hear the fear in the words.

“And if—if it had to come down to it,” Steve continues, “I’d rather it—I’d—Dustin, he. He would’ve had you, and—”

Eddie laughs yet again, and it’s tipping into something hysterical. He presses the heel of his palms against his eyes. “You barely know me.”

“I know enough,” Steve returns.

Eddie drops his hands. “I’ve barely known Dustin a year, man! And what am I even—I’m just the leader of his glorified fucking after-school club, I’m not—”

“Eddie, come on. You know you’re more than that.”

So much more.

But Eddie is shaking his head again. “Don’t you get it?” he says faintly. “Don’t you get how irreplaceable you are? Dustin, he—when I left him with the girls, he kept crying out for you. He was in pain, he was scared, and he wanted you. Yeah, he might think I’m the cool weirdo at high school, fucking whatever, but you—you’re his family.”

Steve abruptly finds a spot in the ceiling, blinks back the stinging in his eyes. “You gonna—” He clears his throat. “You gonna sit down?”

Eddie answers by scraping a chair along the floor until he throws himself into it, knees almost touching the side of Steve’s bed.

“I really hate blood, you know?” Eddie says, after a long silence. “Like, there was a biology lesson where… it was a dissection, the teacher was demonstrating, she’d barely made a cut with that scalpel thingy and I just…” He claps his hands together. “Fainted dead away. It was so embarrassing. Was almost glad when the Satan rumours started, at least it was a distraction from…”

A pause. Eddie leans forward.

“But with you… when we got you—in the ambulance, and—I watched everything. I didn’t look away, not for a second. Not for one fucking second.”

Steve exhales. “Why?”

“So I could say they didn’t just call it. That they tried, at least. That they fucking fought for you. ‘Cause that’s what we all were doing, we—we weren’t letting you go just like that. You shoulda seen Wheeler, man, thought she was gonna murder the docs with just one look. And Buckley, she—” A flicker of emotion passes across Eddie’s face. “You know you two have the same blood type?”

“Oh,” Steve breathes, then thinks it’s no wonder he survived, with Robin’s strength now flowing in his veins.

“Even that was touch-and-go for a while.” Eddie rubs a hand down his face, looks thoroughly exhausted. “Like, Dustin was feverish for a bit, and they reckon I’d already puked it up, but you—there were some white-coats who knew about… and they thought. That. That there was so much venom in you from those bats that you’d… your body would reject Robin’s blood.” He bows his head. “For a while, I thought… I thought…”

Steve puts all his effort into lifting his hand. Manages to reach the top of Eddie’s head, fingers curling weakly into his hair.

“Eddie, I’m—I’m sorry.”

It’s not enough; he knows it’s not enough. But it’s all he has.

Eddie gently removes Steve’s hand. Uncurls Steve’s fingers, like he’s seeing them for the very first time.

“This one was the worst,” he whispers. “Throughout all of it.” He stares down at the palm covered in gauze, and his eyes fill with tears. “Because when you—when you brought out the knife, that’s. That’s when I knew for sure. What you were gonna—” His voice breaks.

Steve doesn’t know how to make this better. Thinks that he’d settle for making Eddie smile. That would be worth something. Everything.

“I meant it, y’know. Wasn’t just the blood loss talking.”

Eddie sniffs. “Meant what?”

“That you’re beautiful.” Eddie chuckles. One tear falls down his cheek. He doesn’t wipe it away. “Nah. When you said that, I was like oh, you’re really out of it, huh?”

“Don’t think that was it.” Steve gathers the last of his bravery. “Think I just—didn’t wanna die with it going unsaid.”

Eddie makes a noise, a pained mixture of a gasp, sob and laugh.

“I thought you were… beautiful, t-too,” he says through uneven, stuttering breaths.

Steve makes a face of distaste to get him to laugh again; it works, except for the fact that he also starts to sob even more.

“Yeah, bet I was a pretty picture.”

“Steve. I mean it. You—you were looking down at Dustin, I saw you, and I just. You looked so… so fucking devoted, you were glowing with it. I think.” His voice turns tearful again. “I think I knew even then. I just remember—remember thinking oh God, he—he loves so damn much that he’s gonna die for it.”

He puts a hand over his eyes. Weeps.

Steve’s heart shatters.

“But I didn’t,” he murmurs. “Eddie, hey. I didn’t. I’m still here.”

He lifts his hand again, reaches for him. Very clumsily touches his cheek, until Eddie jerks back with a muttered, “I’m gonna get your bandages wet.”

“Guess I’ll just have to kiss you instead,” Steve replies—and ordinarily that level of boldness might have shocked him, but fuck it; he’s been through enough that the nerves barely register. Can only really feel a sudden wave of exhaustion, anyway.

Eddie snorts—seems to be so taken aback that he stops crying. “Was that a fucking line? In a hospital bed, no less? You have zero shame, Steve Harrington.”

Steve smiles, suppressing a yawn. “Did it work?”

Eddie smiles back. Tears still shine on his face. He pauses, then says, “One,” lifting up a finger like he’s haggling. “Then I’d better go tell someone you woke up.”

“Deal.”

And Steve is quickly becoming too tired to do much in the way of responding, so that the whole thing ends up being just a brief press of lips against one another. Even then, it’s the best. Because Eddie’s lips are warm, and all Steve can taste is the salt of his tears. No blood.

Eddie draws back just a little, gives one last lingering peck. Then he moves away.

Steve’s eyes are delayed in opening; when he manages it, he sees Eddie giving him a tender smile.

“Oh, it was a goodnight kiss, I see,” Eddie teases.

“Mm-hmm.”

Eddie leans forward again, this time to kiss Steve’s forehead. It makes Steve’s eyes close instinctively, and then he can’t seem to open them again.

Eddie chuckles. Sighs. “You’re fading, sweetheart. Gonna go fetch a doctor, then I’ll be right back. Promise.”

“Mm. Trust you.”

Trust you with everything.

He hears Eddie standing up, pushing the chair aside—everything muffled, but softly so. Not frightening. Not anymore.

As Steve drifts off, his last thought is that Eddie had been right; he would’ve died for love.

But now…

Now he’d like to try living for it.

#the universes in which steve is self-sacrificing are never ending #steddie fic #steddie #steddie ficlet #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve and robin #steve and dustin #eddie and dustin #eddie and nancy

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