requested | by anon
pairing | hal jordan x fem! reader
summary | hal's been in love with you for longer than he can recall, so why's he now hearing you love someone else?
Most days, Hal loves being a Green Lantern. Loves the thrill, the adventure, the sense of purpose and importance that came from being chosen to protect not only the small sector of space Earth was nestled in, but the galaxy as a whole.
The Green Lantern Corps gave him everything when he was nothing; it gave him flight again. But for as much as it gave, the ring took just as much. From his job to his apartment, Carol.
Though if Hal’s honest with himself, he hadn’t needed the ring for that, no, he’d have always fucked that one up all on his own. Just like he fucked everything else up.
Hal loves being a Lantern; it’s who he is, without the ring—he doesn’t even want to think about that.
He loves being a Lantern, but there are times when weeks spent away from home in the cold vacuum of space takes it’s toll. Taking and taking from him, always demanding more until he has nothing left to give but the weariness in his soul and the sting in his aging bones.
Times like the last two months of Hal’s life, jumping through the Guardian’s ridiculous hoops, dealing with self-righteous alien royalty and seemingly everyone in the galaxy wanting his head on a platter, allies included.
Not that he could blame them.
Guy, John and Kyle would always have his back, but not even they could do so 24/7, and after so long away, Hal ached for the comfort of home. Exhaustion had snuck up on him weeks ago, worming into his veins and seeping into his joints until every step is a Herculean effort.
Hal longs for nothing more than to collapse face-first into the closest soft enough surface and sleep until his body hates him more than it does now. Yet the second he touches down on the Watchtower, taking those first few steps on solid floor after flying for so long, all dreams of pillows and cosy blankets evaporate, replaced with one simple thought that puts a slight spring in his step and an embarrassingly childlike giddiness to his chest—you.
For so long, Hal had thought Carol was the one, his one shot at true love and happiness. It’d been said that even the word marriage said in jest was enough to send him running for the hills, but if anyone were to make it happen, it would’ve been Carol.
That was, until you. You were everything Hal could ever want and more. At first, he’d tried to hate you, convinced there was no way you were real. You were too perfect, like you’d been carefully crafted to fulfil his every desire.
But to Hal’s great dismay, you just were that perfect for him. The initial realisation had been enough to send him straight to Oa, an extended stay as he tried to will those pesky feelings away.
It wasn’t cowardly of him. It wasn’t!
It was for the best. You were a good and kind soul, and he would inevitably do nothing but taint you with his love. Even if, by some god-given miracle, you loved him back, Hal would inevitably be the chain that dragged you down into the mud with him, and he refused to ever let that happen.
Alas, the absence had only made his heart grow ten times fonder. It hadn’t helped that you’d been waiting for his return with open arms, a smile rivalling the intensity of the sun’s brightness displayed just for him.
“Hal! Welcome back!” You’d excitedly exclaimed before nearly leaping into his chest for a hug. Squeezing him tight until he could barely breathe before relaxing, paying no mind to his robotically stiff movements as he slowly hugged you back. Then softer, just for him, you’d whispered, “I missed you.”
And just like that, Hal knew, he was unequivocally and irreovocably fucked.
From then on, you’d somehow managed to be one of the first to greet him upon his return to Earth, a sunny smile and warm hug waiting just for him, without fail.
Only, as Hal navigates the expanse of the watchtower, his excitement dims, replaced with a sickening wash of anxiety because you’re nowhere to be found. His steps falter, a frown marring his face, heart pounding as his steps become hurried.
“Hal! You’re back!” Barry’s smile is surprised, but no less glad to see him. Later, Hal will regret not reciprocating his best friend’s energy, but for now, all his exhaustion-laden brain can focus on is you, or rather, the annoying lack of you.
“Barry—”
“Metropolis.” The blonde cuts him off, smile shifting into something softer—knowing.
“What—”
“She’s in Metropolis, with Superman.” Barry points to the monitors, which Hal suddenly realises have drawn the rapt gazes of a handful of colourfully costumed individuals he hadn’t even registered in his search for you. He briefly catches a glimpse of Ollie and Dinah across the room, but his attention is quickly drawn back to the display on the large screens.
It’s you. And Superman. You and Superman together. You nestled safely in Superman’s arms, yours thrown around his neck for balance as you smiled softly at each other, words too soft spoken for the cameras to pick up.
No warnings or disclaimers, just you and Clark enacting something from a trashy romance novel on the news for god and everyone to see.
He hears a feminine squeal from somewhere to his left. Hal’s unsure who exactly, he doesn’t care to look. Can’t tear his eyes away from the sickening scene playing out in front of him as his heart pounds furiously in his ears. “They’re so cute together, wouldn’t they just make the perfect couple?”
“What?!” He shrieks, drawing multiple sets of eyes, as Barry laughs nervously, waving off the attention, while Hal rapidly cycles through the stages of grief.
“Hey, what do you say we get something to eat? I’m starving. Are you starving? You must be starving!” Barry rambles, tugging Hal by the arm until they’re well out of sight from prying eyes.
Despite Barry’s best efforts, the sight of you and fucking Superman, every woman’s stupidly muscular wet dream, is seared into his brain. Playing on the backs of his eyelids as he attempts sleep, the sweet, innocent scene morphs into something decidedly x-rated, leaving Hal waking with murderous intent and a traitorous boner.
Hal could excuse it happening once. (No, he couldn’t, Clark was still on the top of his shitlist even if he feigned confusion. You know what you did, Clark!)
But twice? And for what? A spar with Wonder Woman? Sure, you might not have even known he was back, too busy cosying up to Superman as you were, nor were you aware of his presence on the watchtower currently—still, Diana?
Following Oliver’s directions to the watchtower training room, he purposefully ignores his friend's teasing tone, not rising to the bait even as his mood plummets to rock bottom.
Rock bottom, as it turns out, is not the news that you were avoiding him in favour of a literal princess everyone was half in love with. No, it’s the sight of you sweaty and dishevelled, pinned beneath powerful Amazonian muscles in a shot straight from a Justice League porno he swears he’s seen.
Diana holds your wrists above your head with one hand, thighs bracketing yours as she smiles down at you with half lidded lashes, and— why isn’t anyone stopping this?!
Clearly the fights over, you can get up now!
“Oh to be their third.” Some newbie he doesn’t even recognise sighs wistfully and something in Hal snaps.
“They’re not even together!”
Diana’s pulling you to your feet with ease when you hear his voice, perking up like a puppy as you instantly turn to locate him “Hal!” Uncaring of the audience, you run across the room, leaping into his already open arms.
Hal encases you in his arms easily, tension fleeing from his frame as he squeezes you tightly against him. Greedily, he drinks in your warmth, burying his face in your neck.
“Gross, Hal, I’m all sweaty.” You laugh, but don’t let go, letting that small pathetic flame of hope that you might just feel the same burn bright in his heart.
“I don’t care, I’ve missed you.” He whispers, all too aware of the watchful gazes but for once, too exhausted to care. There’s a beat, and dread fills his soul as he begins to pull away, he’s stepped too far, he’s—
“I’ve missed you too. Welcome home.”
Yeah, Hal thinks, as your arms tighten around him, home.
Hal hates monitor duty.
It’s beyond boring and after weeks away from home the last thing he wants is to spend hours sat in front of League monitor’s helping dispatch other hero’s to deal with the action as he waits for the off chance of some apocalyptic scale event.
You’re not even rostered together. Hal wouldn’t put it past Bruce to have noticed how much likelier Hal was to do work with you by his side in an effort to impress, he also wouldn’t put it past the ridiculously petty man to take you away as punishment — punishment this was — becaue his partner for the next few hours was none other than Booster Gold.
Dragging his feet, Hal mentally prepares himself to deal with Booster’s nonsense, only for his brow to furrow and feet to pick up the pace when he notices the crowd drawn around the screens, watching.
He’s about to ask what all the commotion is when the footage from the news crew suddenly pans past distressed civilians and cop cars to show you, a little ruffled but seemingly ok, and so unfairly gorgeous. A black, silk dress clings to your skin. Sleeveless to display muscled arms from years of hero work, and as you turn a little, Hal’s breath hitches to discover it’s backless aswell.
Suddenly the camera zooms in closer as man appears at your side, shrugging off an undoubtedly expensive suit jacket to cover your shoulders. His eye twitches, seething jealousy swirling in his chest as Bruce fucking Wayne, throws an arm around you, leading you away from the cameras as the two of you whisper to each other, faces far too close for Hal’s liking.
“He’s so smooth with it.” Booster sighs, almost wistfully (?), chin leaning on his fist as he looks up at the monitors.
“What?” Several people stare at the blond in bewilderment as he holds his hands up defensively.
“Don’t lie to me! We’ve all thought about fucking Bruce Wayne!”
“Who is we?” Victor denies, instantly thinking back on his Teen Titan days and the thought of Nightwing’s reaction.
Thank you. Hal thinks, only to turn and stare at a suspiciously silent Barry before whirling on Booster once more, “I bet he’s not even as great as everyone says he is. Probably pays people to spread that rumour.”
“No, no, he’s pretty great at that.” Oliver murmurs, almost unintentionally as all attention falls to him. As chaos explodes around him at the archer’s statement, a hand wraps around Hal’s bicep, pulling him away from the crowd a little.
“I wouldn’t worry about it.” Zatanna smiles softly, cocking her head at the screens, “Bruce that is.”
“I have no idea what you’re…” At the unimpressed look on her face Hal slumps, sighing as he lifts a hand to rub the back of his neck sheepishly, “how did you…?”
“A woman knows. Besides, you’re hardly subtle.” She teases, before her gaze softens a little. “I meant it, you don’t have to worry about Bruce, we’ve all known each other since we were kids. They’re more like siblings than anything else.”
Hal thinks back to the uncharacteristically soft look on Bruce’s face as he led you away from the cameras, the way you leaned into his touch, and finds Zatanna’s words a lot less comforting than they should be.
“I just don’t get what you see in him. You could have anyone you wanted and—” Hal freezes, call of your name dying on his tongue as he overhears the tail end of your conversation with Vixen. His smile dimmed as the implications sank in.
Luckily, neither of you have seen him yet as Hal slowly steps back, slinking into the wall to hear your response.
“I doubt that,” you scoffed, shoving Vixen playfully before your demeanour shifts, “I really like him, Mar. He’s sweet, sweeter than you all seem to think, and he makes me laugh.” There’s something bashful in your tone that makes his frown deepen.
Who was the clown making you laugh? That was his job!
Mari looked equally unimpressed, “girl, what is he? A comedian? There has to be more than that.”
“Ok fine! He listens to me, even when I’m rambling about silly things that I know he doesn’t care about, he makes me feel like the most important person in the world when we’re together. And—” you pause, fingers twiddling with the hem of your suit sleeve, a nervous habit of yours, “he makes me feel safe.”
“Wow, you’ve got it bad.” Mari’s teasing grin drops, eyes widening because at some point Hal’s feet had started moving without his brain’s input until he was standing behind you, mouth open but no sound coming out.
Shit. He hadn’t thought that far ahead.
“Mar, what are you—” Following her eyes, you turn in your seat only to stammer at the sight of him, “Hal! What—how much did you hear?”
“Enough.” He mumbled, voice hoarse as he cleared his throat. Your face drops even further, eyes wide and panicked as you hold your hands up.
“Wait, I can—”
“No!” He exclaims, guilt nearly overwhelming him when you flinch back in dismay, face full of hurt. “I mean, I got something to say, please just listen.”
You try to relax a little, taking in the incredibly uncharacetristic tension in his frame. If you didn’t know any better you’d think he was almost nervous. Your heart sinks, you already know he’s trying to figure out some way to reject you, to let you down easily as to not hurt your feelings but if you’re being honest, you’d much rather he just rip the bandaid off. Break your heart so you can start to put it back together again without the devastating reminder of his kindness in even doing that.
You nod, smoothing your sweaty palms over your thighs. “Ok—” No sooner is the word past your lips is Hal dropping to his knees before you, taking your hands in his slightly trembling ones.
“I’m in love with you!” He exclaims, much louder than he’d intended.
“Hal—”
“No! Just, just listen to me!” He interrupts, desperation lacing his tone, “I know you like someone else, and he’s probably a way better guy for you than I could ever be… but I just—I needed to tell you, how much you mean to me. The thought of you, of your smile, your laughter, sometimes it’s the only thing that helps me get up in the morning. That the thought of you with someone else is—it’s agony.”
You’re deathly silent, eyes wide disbelieving as you stare down at Hal with an expression that for the first time in years, he can’t read.
He clears his throat, averting his gaze as he stands, trying to brush off the blatant rejection with what little remains of his pride intact.
“Hal,” you call, softer this time as your fingers catch in his, preventing him from pulling away as you tug him closer to you.
The second his head turns, you lean in, pressing your lips to his as your free hand reaches up, cupping the back of his neck as your fingers idly play with his hair. All too soon, you’re pulling away, resting your forehead against his as you giggle. “It’s you, you idiot. I was talking about you.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh.” You laughed, as Hal pouts.
“Ok, I’m going to kiss you again now, and we’re going to forget how badly I just embarrassed myself.”
Not likely. You think in amusement, even as you nod and kiss him again.
Later, you’d try to find out why he seemed to think so little of himself, but for now, you were happy to finally kiss the man you’d loved for longer than you cared to admit to yourself, and hopefully, he’d start to see himself the way you did.
And if not, you were happy to prove how much you loved him, starting now.
pairings | kakashi hatake, kisuke urahara, hal jordan x fem! reader
summary | who knew that one small act of kindness would lead to you gaining an eternity of annoyance
KAKASHI HATAKE
“Kakashi.” When he doesn’t respond you step closer, chakra flaring in warning so you won’t get stabbed when you reach for him. “Come on, you’ll get sick.”
A lone grey eye sliding lazily over your face before flickering back towards the memorial stone is all the acknowledgement you get, but he doesn’t put up a fight when you start to push him gently in front of you.
It’s a slow trudge to your apartment, fingers clenched tightly around the back of his soaking wet jonin vest in case he tries to make a run for it. Except the longer you walk the more apparent it becomes that the only thing keeping him moving is your gentle guiding.
Corralling him into the warmth of your already heated apartment, you triple check the door is locked before dropping to your knees, tugging Kakashi’s shoes off with only a little prompting.
His vest, weapons and shirt come off next as you sit him on one of your two chairs and the pathetic excuse of a dining table.
“Stay there.” You threaten, waving a finger in his face even as his gaze remains largely vacant. It only takes a second to grab a pile of freshly washed towels and some clothes and a face mask, dumping them on the table as you start with his sodden hair.
Kakashi doesn’t fight as you dry his hair then upper half but he doesn’t help either. It’s not until you hand him a new towel and a pair of pants that he kicks into gear slowly.
Leaving him to his own devices, you head into the kitchen thanking the gods that you’ve still got some leftover soup from yesterday.
It’s nothing special, but given Kakashi’s abhorrent inability to care for himself in this state it’s certainly better than anything he’d manage.
You take your time dishing it out and heating it up, kicking up a cacophony in the kitchen as you do.
“Order up!” You cheer, sliding the bowl in front of him, gathering up the wet clothes and towels and shuffling towards the laundry.
Mournfully, you imagine the warm shower you’d otherwise be having before drying yourself off and changing into a fluffy set of pyjamas, kitten slippers on your feet as you shuffle back out to check on him.
To your surprise, most of the soup's already been eaten, the new face mask remaining untouched as Kakashi slowly finishes the meal, almost as if he's savouring the taste.
“Whose clothes are these?” The question startles you almost as much as the sudden clarity in his gaze.
“Genma's, I think? I figured his clothes would be the closest in size.”
“You think?” His brow furrows. “Who else's clothes do you have?”
“Gai, um, Aoba. They stay the night sometimes.” You shrug, reaching for the now-empty bowl, rinsing it a little before dumping it in the sink; you'll deal with it later.
Back turned, you don't notice the tension lining Kakashi's frame, brows drawn and frowning at the thought of other men getting so close to you.
They stayed the night? What did you mean by that?
He's seen Genma flirt with you several times, but surely you hadn't actually fallen for it? and did you say Gai?
Unaware of his inner spiral/ongoing murder plots, you usher Kakashi up and down the hallway, not seeing the pink flush covering his cheeks when you usher him into your bedroom.
“You can sleep in here tonight; I'll take the couch.” You don't make it more than three steps before a hand locks around your wrist, and you're tugged backward into a warm chest.
The world tilts briefly as you find yourself suddenly on your mattress, Kakashi curled restrictively around you like a limpet.
“What, do you think you're doing?”
Kakashi hums, snuggling into your side like he's trying to burrow under your skin, “staying the night.”
His arms tighten the second you try to squirm away, and you sigh, resigning yourself to a long night.
Kakashi's gone in the morning, and you almost write the whole thing off as some strange dream. Except when you stumble into your apartment the next night, exhausted and ready to crawl into bed, Kakashi's already there.
You should've left him in the rain.
KISUKE URAHARA
“Alright, enough is enough.” Kisuke barely has any time to register the door to his office being thrown open, let alone your words, before a hand is yanking the blanket off his shoulders and dragging him outside into the blinding light.
Blinking furiously, he tries to adjust to the light, stumbling over himself as he blearily registers that it's you who's got him by the collar.
“How long are you going to keep moping around? Yoruichi had to come annoy me into visiting; you're lucky it wasn't Hiyori.”
“What are you—” Kisuke stammers as you manhandle him into sitting at the small table, trailing off when he sees the bowl of admittedly tantalising smeeling soup.
“Well? Are you going to just sit there and stare like an idiot? Eat up.”
“You made this...for me?”
“No, I made it for the next-door neighbour. What do you think?!” There's an adorably angry furrow to your brow, and part of him wants to cry; it's a sight he never thought he'd see again. Not after he's so thoroughly failed to fix what Aizen's done to you.
“Oi, what's with the weird look?”
“Ah, I'm just surprised; I didn't know you could cook.” As expected, your eyes twitched furiously, and Kisuke felt his heart lighten in the presence of your anger.
“Kisuke—” Before you can start screaming at him properly, Kisuke launches himself at you, wrapping his arms around your waist and rubbing his cheek into your belly.
“So cute! Who knew you cared so much about little ole me?”
“Let go, you freak!”
“Haha, never!” He cheered, squeezing you even tighter when you try to squirm away.
“How someone like you was ever made a captain is beyond me!” You bring a fist down on his head, but just like your voice is lacking true heat, you're not truly aiming to hurt him.
Hundreds of years spent by his side in Squad Two under Yoruichi mean that Kisuke can see right through that mask you're projecting.
You've been taking care of him for longer than Kisuke cared to admit; it was probably time he started to repay the favour.
Kisuke really doesn't understand why you start screaming at him whenever you wake up, only to find him hovering over your bed, plate of breakfast already lovingly prepared by him.
HAL JORDAN
It's been months since you've seen Hal Jordan. You hadn't even heard he was back planetside, so to see him suddenly during a league meeting was unexpected.
A meeting you can barely concentrate on with him sitting there looking so... pathetic.
You suspect he's trying to hide it, but it would be impossible for you to ignore the bags under his eyes, barely hidden by his mask, the week-old stubble lining his jaw and the grease in his hair.
Hal looks rough, and you can hazard a guess as to why.
It's not the first time Hal's spent long stints of time in space, and if trends are being followed, he's probably lost his apartment.
Watching him linger behind uncertainly as the rest of the league filters out of the conference room has you sighing, already trying not to regret your decision. “Hal, come on, dinner's on me.”
You motion for him to follow with a tilt of your head, not waiting for him to make up his mind as you head for the zeta tube. It takes him a few moments, but eventually you hear hurried footsteps as Hal sidles up to you.
“Well, I'll never turn down free food.” He slings an arm around your shoulder casually.
“Change of plans.” You duck out from beneath him. “We're going back to mine so you can shower first; you stink.”
Hal's offended sputters are drowned out by the zeta tube thrumming to life, spitting you out a few streets over from your home. You continue walking, unhindered by Hal's insistence that he doesn't stink, even as he surreptitiously sniffs himself.
It's a silent walk from there, Hal shifting awkwardly behind you as you fiddle with your keys. “You can calm down; I've made us invisible to everyone else. Nobody will even notice the Green Lantern's in Gotham.”
“Bruce will notice.”
“What, you scared of the bat?” You usher him inside, trying not to smile at his indignance.
“No, I just don't want to deal with him being a dick about it.”
“Aw, poor baby. Don't worry, I'll fend off the Dark Knight for you.”
“My hero.” Hal deadpans, and you snort, pushing him into your bathroom.
“You can get started. There's spare towels already folded beneath the counter, and I'll bring you some clothes.”
“You have men's clothes lying around?” Hal tries not to pull a face at that, watching as yous crounge through some drawers.
“Picked up a few items over the years,” you throw back without looking away from your current task, “hope you don't mind boxers.”
Hal doesn't dignify that with an answer, blinking as you shove a pile of clothes into his arms, still a little overwhelmed that he's somehow ended up in your apartment.
“Hurry up. I'll see what I can put together for dinner.”
Leaving him alone with his thoughts, Hal mechanically sets about the task set before him, groaning when the hot water pours over aching muscles.
Part of him wants to stay under the warm spray for hours, but the ache in his stomach and the promise of food eventually lure him out and into the kitchen.
“Smells good.” He clears his throat, watching as you whip around with wide eyes, plate in hand.
“Oh, you're done. Have a seat, I'll wash your clothes.” You trade the plate for the pile of clothes he's awkwardly clinging to. Watching as you clamber down the hallway, Hal woodenly takes a seat at the kitchen counter.
Hal would like to say he was polite and waited until you got back, but the hunger wins out, and he devours the steak like a beast.
“Nobody's taking it from you.” Your amused voice has him flushing, his jaw slowing even as you smile. Taking his plate to slide another steak and some roast vegetables from a container of leftovers onto it before sliding it back in front of him.
“It's not much, but anything else would have taken too long.”
“It's great. Delicious.” He rushes to assure between swallowing bites.
“You really don't have to flatter me.”
“I'm not, it's the best thing I've tasted in months.” He earnestly states, something solemn in his gaze that has you softening.
“Hal.” You hesitate a little, turning your back to the stove so you won't see his expression. “I've got a spare room...you can stay for as long as you need.”
“I—That's not really necessary, I'll—”
“Hal.” You spin around, gaze narrowed. “Just accept the help.”
He withers under your gaze, because privately, Hal's aware he's not in a position to refuse.
For all his initial reticence, Hal sure does enjoy spending the next five months living under your roof, eating your cooking and generally demanding your attention 24/7.
Oliver makes a joke that you're practically a couple at this point, and to your dismay, you don't necessarily hate the considering glimmer in Hal's eyes at the thought.
Husband!Kuna who believes that your child is the pinnacle of perfection. Your face adorned with his distinct markings. The immaculate combination. Especially since she has his stubbornness and your composure already, he just knows she will grow up to one day surpass him. In fact, he is training her to do so.
Husband!Kuna who is not the favourite parent, even though he spends the most time with her. Oftentimes she is found playing among the bones in his domain. She always wants to do what you do and be where you are. This both infuriates and endears him to no end. The child is doted on by the entire palace, especially Uraume who has somehow captured the little ones attention and is always being bothered.
Husband!Kuna who always engaged in your child's curiosity. He believes that children should be treated as humans, not fragile little creatures, so every question she asks is met with the cold hard truth.
"Daddy, why are we at war again?"
"Because they didn't fulfil their trade agreements and your mother is very angry, so she started another one."
"Daddy how did you and mommy make me?"
"We had sex. That is how children are made."
"Daddy, what does it look like when you use your cursed technique on a human?"
"Like this."
Husband!Kuna who lets the child do whatever they want. Quite literally. She will crawl all over him, climbing him like a tree. She will jump on him and cling to him and demand to be carried everywhere by him. She will also bite him. A lot. A habit she picked up when she was teething and hasn't lost. Luckily Sukuna doesn't mind the pain and finds it quite amusing.
Husband!Kuna who finds himself getting hit by your child whenever she is mad. It's not really her fault, she sees you smacking him around the back of the head with your fan, or slapping him when you scold him. So of course she does the same when she doesn't get her way. She only wants to be like you.
Husband!Kuna who pretends not to care but will still carry the child everywhere with him. How is she supposed to learn how to rule if she doesn't see it in action. He also spoils her to no end, something he is very prideful about.
"Thank you for the new comb, I can look like mommy now!"
"Of course, little brat. What kind of father would I be if I couldn't cater to your every whim. An inferior one."
Husband!Kuna who has an incredibly strong bond with your daughter. After anything interesting happens, whether it be feeding the ducks with you or watching someone argue, she always comes running to Sukuna to give him a full debrief. He will pause anything to stop and listen, and she trusts him with her secrets wholeheartedly.
Husband!Kuna who finds it quite adorable when your child tries to emulate you. He will catch her giving out withering looks or swishing her robes around. Though with her is just looks cute rather than elegant and cunning. She also tries to copy him by doing the hand signs for his technique and yelling cleave. This is how she discovered her technique and also how one of the servants got a new haircut.
Husband!Kuna who finds solace in his little family. He thinks you make a beautiful mother, eyes transfixed on you whenever you have her hand in yours. He also thinks you're a very attractive mother, which you find quite irritating as he's constantly in your ear whispering dirty things while you're trying to read a bedtime story. When it comes down to it, his need for violence and bloodshed is culled by spending time with his two favourite girls.
MASTERLIST (more of this au there)
I <3 sukuna being a girl dad and now having two women in his life who boss him around
REQUESTS ARE OFFICIALLY BACK OPEN SEND THEM MY WAY PLS I BEG
DONT FORGET TO INTERACT, REBLOG COMMENT AND FOLLOW ETC TO SUPPORT AUTHORS
TAGLIST(OPEN JUST ASK TO BE ADDED): @cherrytintedlens @stqrgumi @salad85 @megssleepygirl @jiyoonly @luvrmegumi @fushigurlfriend @doumassexywife @mrskamikazekaito @chososprettygirl @xcdchu
⡴ gym teacher!sukuna has an embarrassingly known crush on school nurse!reader
lowkey wanna turn this into a full oneshot
if he heard one more twelve year old’s squeaky voice whispering to one another, saying he’s ‘got a crush on the school nurse’ he swears he’s gonna write up the whole grade.
god, it’s even worse when one of the eighth grade girls come up to him when he’s on lunch duty.
“mr., mr. ! did you know the nurse mentioned she likes tall guys when i went into her room for a tylenol !”
“what does that have to do with me ?” he grumbles, scrunching his face while the girl and her friend stare up at him.
“well everyone knows you like like her—”
“GO SIT DOWN!”
he swears the whole lunchroom conveniently goes quiet when he yells that as the girls squirm away back to their tables and start whispering around gossip.
and even worse than the girls that draw hearts around you and sukuna’s staff photos next to eachother in the main office, he’s got gojo. gojo, who ships you two and nags him like worse-than a middle school girl. gojo, who shoves you two together for any school event.
“what game do you have planned for tomorrow?” you ask, leaning over to whisper to sukuna as eighth grade awards are called for each subject, timing claps inbetween your words while names are called. you smirk, “how many kids am i gonna have sent my way next time?”
“just dodgeball.” he leans down to whisper flatly against your ear, still staring down a kid giggling in the seating rows of the auditorium and effectively getting him to stop with his gaze.
“your version of dodgeball is basically to the death, i might have to have paramedics in my room on standby.” you joke, turning to smile at him so sweetly. in his mind, this counts as him making you laugh and therefore counts as a win.
he chuckles lightly, just a quick huff of his chest, but essentially the hardest he can laugh if he’s not looking at a kid getting tackled in class. “these kids will toughen up eventually, i am just teaching them to do it early.”
“were you a weak kid that needed to toughen up? i can really only picture you as a big scary dude.”
“i was actually a severely malnourished child due to my mothers impoverished state during her pregnancy.“ he says, truly not realizing how solemn he sounds in his voice even as he means it as a light hearted jest.
you blink at him, face contorted in confusion and awkwardness. he wants to hit himself.
the only thing that saves him from not saying anything stupid again is the end of the assembly, marked by gojo yelling into a megaphone and for kids to round up by homeroom.
the following week he’s still embarrassed to even look you in the eyes. he’s mulling over how stupid he must’ve looked infront of you while sifting through the equipment closet.
he hears steps echo throughout the currently empty gym before he yells out.
“gojo i’m not covering your lunch break, fuck off—” he turns around to not see the usual suspect he finds during his free period. instead, he sees you, leaning against the door in scrubs and white coat clinging to your body. he stills in his motion.
you speak before he can (if he can speak at all in his embarrassed state).
“i understand the confusion, he bothers me all the time too.” you dismiss, smiling at him with your glossed lips he probably thinks about hourly. waitwaitwait, gojo talks to you all the time ? he’s going to kill that lanky fuck. “just wanted to drop these off for yuri in your next period.” you jostle around a pill bottle in your hand, “she can get fainty on gym days so give these to her just in case to help prevent that.” he knows it’s your job and all, but your concern is honestly kinda cute.
“uhh yeah i’ll be sure to.” he nods, right as you drop the bottle on top of a stack of rubber cones by the door before you walk out. and he would just like it to be known he definitely didn’t stare at your ass as you left.
and he typically makes it easier for himself to deny how down bad he is to you, but now, after you spent a week of saved up sick days out last week, he’s kind of craving your voice. so who can blame him when he calls his 6th grade nephew into his office while he’s supposed to be at lunch.
“look, kid. i’m going to need you to do something, and i’m gonna need you to not be annoying about it, kay?”
yuji furrows his brows, fiddling with the strings of his hoodie.
“you,” he gestures to his nephew, “are going to act like you collapsed and let me bring you up to the school nurse. you are then going to be quiet when i talk to her.”
“is it cause you have a crush on her—”
sukuna tenses before cutting him off.
“do a good job acting and i will consider buying you that human earthworm blu-ray. do you hear me, brat?”
yuji’s eyes light up at the mention of the dvd.
“is this impression good enough then?” yuji leans and clutches at his side in fake fatigue while moaning dramatically for help, then immediately straightens up with a smile like he’s waiting for a rating. sukuna shakes his head and genuinely wonders how he’s related to this—in sukuna’s words— pea brained doofus.
he dials your number on his offices phone, sitting tense in his chair while he shh’s yuji. yuji nods and salutes as sukuna continues to roll his eyes.
yuji could’ve sworn he saw him smile when you pick up. he continues to watch sukuna fiddle with the curled wire of the phone as he explains yuji’s apparently dire situation. he can just barely hear the muffled sound of you saying ‘just bring him up and i’ll check him out.” over the speaker of the phone before sukuna hangs up and fixes his hair.
sukuna walks out the door and desperately tries to ignore yuji’s terrible post fainting impression behind him as his nephew follows his step to your room.
just before they step into your room he whispers to yuji as he leans over.
“if you can bring up me being single i’ll take you out for ice cream, brat.”
HELFFFPFPPP can a hood samaritan help me find this jasontodd×reader fic where tge reader kisses jason on the cheek and left a lipstick stain, then jason unknowingly went to do his usual patrol with batfam. Andthen the batfam learns abt reader once jason removes his helmet— this is just tge synopsis. I never got the chance to read the entire fic coz i accidentally refreshed my tumblr--
NOTE: this was a rushed work but I had to get the words down before I forgot!! And the word vomit suddenly started coming out…
The backyard was currently filled with the low hum of chatter, the clinking of glasses, and the aroma of charred oak and marinating meat. String lights were woven through the trees overhead, swaying gently in the afternoon breeze
At eight months pregnant, you were, by your own cheerful admission, "absolutely huge." You wore a flowy, sage-green sundress that stretched comfortably over your prominent, round bump. Walking was more of a graceful waddle at this point, but you refused to sit down just yet. You were too busy playing host to the closest friends and allies you and Simon had.
"Look at you, glowing!" Price boomed, stepping into the yard with a wrapped box that looked comically small in his hands. He wrapped you in a gentle, careful hug, mindful of the extra space you now required. "How are you holding up, love?"
"Like a penguin, but otherwise great," you laughed, resting a hand on the top of your belly. "He’s kicking up a storm today. I think he smells the food."
"He?" Soap’s ears practically perked up from where he was sitting on a lawn chair, a beer in hand. He bolted over, blue eyes wide. "Did you say he? It’s a boy?!"
"It’s a boy," you beamed, your face lighting up with pride. "We just found out for sure last week. A little mini-Simon running around."
"God help us all," Gaz chuckled, joining the circle and offering a warm congratulatory hug. "Are we ready for a tiny Simon. Should get him a skull onesie yeah?”
"Johnny already bought him three, don't worry," a deep, gravelly voice rumbled from a few yards away.
You turned to look at your husband. Simon was standing by the massive charcoal grill, a pair of tongs in one hand and a cold drink in the other. He wore a simple black t-shirt that stretched tight across his broad shoulders, and a lightweight, breathable fabric mask that covered the lower half of his face. His blonde hair was messy from the heat, and his eyes, usually so sharp and guarded, were soft as they landed on you.
"They're incredible onesies, LT!" Soap defended himself, pointing a finger at Simon.
Simon just grumbled shaking his head, turning back to flip a row of patties.
You excused yourself from the guys and slowly made your way over to the grill. As soon as you were within arm's reach, Simon leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours for a brief, quiet second. He slipped a large, warm hand around your waist, his thumb rubbing soothing circles against your hip.
"You need to sit down, sweets," he murmured, his voice dropping into that private, gravelly tone meant only for you. "You've been on your feet since Alejandro and Rudy got here."
"I'm fine, Simon. Just greeting everyone," you said, leaning into his side. "Besides, your son is hungry."
Simon’s eyes shifted down to your bump. He lowered his hand from your hip to cup the underside of your belly, his large palm covering a massive portion of it. As if on cue, a distinct ripple moved across your dress as the baby kicked right against his hand.
A rare, genuine crinkle appeared at the corners of Simon's eyes, the unmistakable sign of a smile beneath the mask.
"Bloody hell, he’s got a kick on him," Simon whispered, his thumb tracing a slow circle over the fabric. "Takes after his mum. Stubborn."
"He takes after his dad," you countered softly, placing your hand over his. "He's just eager to get out here and eat some of that barbecue."
"Almost done. Patties for the lads, and I’ve got your chicken cooked through on the top rack," he said, ever protective of the pregnancy dietary restrictions. He gave your belly one last, gentle pat before straightening up. "Go sit with Nikolai and the boys. I’ll bring a plate over to you in five."
"Yes, Lieutenant," you teased.
He huffed a soft laugh, poking your side gently. "Get going before I have to carry you to a chair myself."
Laughing, you patted his chest and wandered back over to the patio tables, feeling the warmth of the sun. As you sat down and took a sip of your ice water, you looked back at Simon. He was trading some dry, sarcastic banter with Gaz while checking on the food, but his eyes kept darting back to you, making sure you were comfortable.
—
The transition from peaceful afternoon to chaos happened in the span of a single exhale.
You had just stood up to say goodbye to Alejandro and Rudy when a sharp, tight wave of pain gripped your lower abdomen. It was completely unlike the mild braxton hicks twitches you’d been having for weeks. This was different, wrapping entirely around your back and squeezing hard enough to steal the breath right out of your lungs.
A sudden, warm splash soaked the grass beneath your feet.
"Oh," you gasped, freezing in place. Your hands flew to the bottom of your bump. "Oh, no. Not yet."
Simon, who had been packing away the leftovers a few yards away, was at your side before you could even register him moving. His large hands caught your elbows, anchoring you as your knees buckled slightly.
"What is it? What's wrong?" His voice, usually completely unbothered by crisis, had a sharp edge of panic to it.
"Simon... I think my water broke," you managed to squeeze out as the contraction finally peaked and began to recede. "And that was definitely a real contraction."
"Price! Soap! Inside, now."
The backyard erupted into highly disciplined movement. Your house was nestled deep in the rural woods, a private sanctuary you and Simon had chosen specifically to get away from the world, but right now, the long, winding dirt roads and the forty-five-minute distance to the nearest hospital felt like a massive liability.
"Johnny, get the truck started. Keep it running," Simon ordered, his voice dropping into his commanding tactical register as he swept you up into his arms.
"Simon, I'm too heavy!" you protested, gripping his shoulders as another wave of tightness started to build.
"Shut up," he muttered against your hair, carrying you toward the driveway as if you weighed nothing at all. "Gaz, grab the hospital bag from the front closet. It’s by the door."
"On it!" Gaz sprinted ahead, tearing into the house.
Price was already at the passenger side of Simon’s massive truck, flinging the door open and adjusting the seat so you could recline. "I’ll drive," Price said, holding up a set of keys. "You stay in the back with her."
"Negative, Captain, I'm driving," Simon grunted, carefully setting you down onto the front seat.
"Simon, look at your hands. You're shaking," Price said, his voice calm, steady, and entirely unyielding. "You’re a father now. Sit in the back, hold your wife, and let me navigate the road okay. Soap and Gaz are right behind us in the SUV."
Simon swallowed hard, staring at Price for a beat before nodding curtly. "Right." He scrambled into the back seat, leaning over the console to take your hand the second the door clicked shut.
The truck tore down the gravel driveway, kicking up a massive cloud of dust as Price handled the tight turns. But out here in the middle of nowhere, the roads were unpaved, riddled with potholes, and entirely unforgiving to a woman in active labor.
Every time the truck hit a bump, a sharp groan escaped your lips. Your fingers dug into Simon’s hand with terrifying strength.
"I know, hun, I know," Simon murmured. He had pulled his mask completely off, tossing it onto the floorboard. His face was pale, his jaw clenched in pure agony on your behalf. He reached over the seat, his massive, calloused hand cupping your cheek while his other hand remained locked in yours. "Look at me. Just breathe through it. Don't look at the road, look at me."
"It hurts, Simon," you gasped, tears finally pricking your eyes as another contraction hit barely four minutes after the last one. "He’s... he’s coming really fast."
"He's a Riley, doesn't follow a schedule," Simon tried to joke, but his voice cracked. He looked up at the rearview mirror, his eyes burning. "Price, move it!"
"I'm flooring it, Simon, but if I hit these ruts any harder, I'll pop a tire," Price called back, his eyes glued to the winding, tree-lined road. "We’re five minutes from the main highway. Hold on."
From behind you, the loud, familiar blare of an SUV horn echoed. You glanced out the side mirror to see Soap driving the secondary vehicle, hazard lights flashing, practically acting as a rear escort to block any rare traffic. Under any other circumstances, the sheer absurdity of the 141 running a tactical transport operation for a baby shower emergency would have made you laugh.
Another contraction gripped you, harder this time, making you cry out and arch your back against the seat.
Simon unbuckled his seatbelt, leaning entirely over the center console to pull you as close to him as the cramped space allowed. He pressed his lips against your sweaty forehead, whispering a string of low, frantic promises.
"You're okay. You're the strongest person I know," he breathed, his thumb wiping away a stray tear on your cheek. "We’re going to get there. I've got you. I'm not leaving you."
The truck suddenly smoothed out, the violent rattling replacing by the steady hum of pavement. Price had finally hit the highway.
"Alright, we're on the asphalt!" Price called out, slamming his foot down on the gas. "ETA twenty minutes. Keep her talking, Simon!"
"Hear that? Twenty minutes," Simon whispered, his eyes locked onto yours, completely filled with an intense, fierce devotion. He placed his large, trembling hand over your stomach, feeling the tight hardness of another contraction. "Just a little longer, sweetheart. You and me. We've got this."
—
The hospital room was finally quiet, the frantic rush of nurses, monitors, and medical equipment replaced by the soft, rhythmic hum of the postpartum monitor. The grueling hours of labor were behind you, leaving you entirely exhausted but filled with a sense of relief.
Sitting up in the hospital bed, you looked down at the bundle resting securely in your arms.
"Big" had been the doctor’s exact word when he was weighed, and it was no exaggeration. At nearly ten pounds, your baby boy looked less like a fragile newborn and more like a solid, robust little tank. He had a surprisingly thick head of light hair, a pair of incredibly strong lungs he had already thoroughly tested, and broad shoulders that left absolutely no question as to whose genetics he carried.
"He's huge," you whined, a tired but triumphant smile pulling at your lips. "Simon, look at him. He’s practically a toddler already."
Simon was sitting right on the edge of the mattress, his massive frame hovering over you protectively. He had refused to leave your side for a single second, and now, he looked entirely undone. His eyes were looked slightly watery, blinking back a rare sheen of moisture as he stared down at his son.
"Bloody hell," Simon rumbled, his voice thick and incredibly gentle. "He’ll get my shoulders. Poor lad."
"Don't say that," you chuckled softly, wincing slightly as your sore muscles protested. "I think he’s perfect. Want to hold him?"
Simon swallowed hard, looking at his own large, heavily calloused hands—hands that had spent a lifetime holding weapons—and then down at the swaddled bundle.
"I don't want to hurt him," he admitted, his voice dropping to a vulnerable whisper.
"You won't. He's a Riley, remember? He's sturdy," you coaxed softly, shifting the baby forward. "Put your arm right here. Support his head."
With agonizing care, Simon extended his forearms, creating a safe cradle. You gently transferred the heavy baby into his arms.
The contrast was staggering. Your baby boy, though massive for a newborn, looked tiny against Simon’s broad chest. Simon’s huge hands carefully cupped the baby’s head and bottom, his long fingers wrapping almost entirely around the thick swaddling blanket.
As soon as he settled against his father's chest, the baby let out a tiny, snuffling grunt and shifted. One of his surprisingly large, chubby little fists broke free from the blanket, flailing weakly in the air before resting squarely against Simon’s thumb.
Simon froze, his breath catching in his throat. He looked down at the tiny hand curling around his thumb, and the last of his hardened exterior completely melted. A soft, breathless laugh escaped his chest, and he leaned down, pressing his forehead gently against the baby’s soft head.
"Hi there, mate," Simon whispered, completely oblivious to anything else in the room. "I'm your pa. I've got you."
A soft knock on the door broke the silence. The curtain pulled back just an inch, and Price’s face appeared, flanked by Soap and Gaz, who were both peeking over the captain's shoulders with wide, eager grins.
"Is the coast clear?" Price asked quietly, though his eyes immediately locked onto the sight of Simon holding the baby.
"Come in," you smiled, waving them over. "Come meet the newest recruit." You laughed.
The boys practically tiptoed into the room, their usual boisterous energy replaced by a reverent, quiet awe. Soap was the first to lean over Simon’s shoulder, his eyes going wide as he took in the size of the baby.
"Jesus, LT, you didn't have a baby, you had a full-grown squad mate," Soap whispered in disbelief. "Look at the size of those mitts! He’s goin’ to be taller than me by next week."
"He's a big lad, alright," Price agreed, a proud, fatherly smile wrinkling the corners of his eyes as he patted Simon’s shoulder. "Beautiful, absolute spit and image of his old man. Well done, both of you."
"He's perfect, mate," Gaz said, grinning warmly at you. "Congratulations."
Simon didn't look up immediately, too transfixed by the way his son was now peacefully sleeping against him. But he reached out with his free hand, finding yours on the hospital bed and squeezing it tightly. His thumb rubbed over your knuckles.
waking up to find jason asleep on top of you. part of you feels bad cause he’s tired. but mostly he just wants to keep you in bed, with whatever necessary method.
it’s past noon when you wake up to jason laying with his head on your chest. his face literally buried between your breasts like it’s a pillow. snoring softly as though completely content.
you probably wouldn’t have woke up if it hadn’t been for the blinds being open because his weight over you just felt like a blanket. warm and inviting. his suit still on him like he just collapsed here somehow and his huge arms resting beside your head. watching the rise and fall of his back since his chest was to your stomach and the soft ruffle of his hair, you smile to yourself.
when you finally try to get up, he’s not budging even a smidge. if anything, he seems to get heavier, and he doesn’t make a sound still completely asleep. but you know he sleeps at odd hours and lord knows when he got home and collapsed on your sleep-ridden form.
fine, you think to yourself, i’ll give him another ten minutes.
though ten turns into twenty and now it’s 1pm. you shake him a little harder and groan out his name.
“jason, get up. you’re crushing me.”
he mumbles something against your chest and rubs his face there before turns it to the side. hands spanning around your waist to keep you from squirming further.
you groan a little louder and laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. “half the day is gone and you’re here suffocating me.”
that’s when he lifts his head to look at you. sleep heavy on his eyelids and a soft pink to his cheeks from pressing his face to the fabric of your clothes. the soft imprint of your ribbed shirt against his skin.
“you aren’t suffocating if you can talk ma.”
squinting down at his stupidly attractive face, you shake your head, “don’t be a smartass.” suddenly able to see the drool he left on your shirt you grimace with no malice. “ugh you got spit all over me you gremlin.”
he laughs aloud and pinches your side to make you jolt. “what this? it’s just drool.”
“same shit as spit.”
then he smiles, “no, spit is when i’m intentionally doing it. drool is mindless. see, i just love your tits even in my sleep.”
he leans over and bites you through your shirt. since you don’t wear a bra to sleep, you feel the press of his teeth completely and it makes you jolt and gasp again. you shove at his head and he just catches your wrists, still smiling at you.
the domesticated annoyance melts into something even more tender as his eyes seem to sparkle up at you. like he’s drinking in the sight of you like this but not consciously doing it. as though he could burn this memory into his soul and not flinch when his flesh form remembers.
you feel yourself fall into him when he raises your shirt over his head and ducks underneath.
“what’re you doing?” giggling as he presses wet kisses onto your abdomen. taking small bites enough to leave a little indent but not to break skin.
“shh it’s sunday baby.” he coos, “this is worship time.”
you’re still laughing and he’s making it up the valley of your breasts, bringing a hand under your shirt too. he gropes one of your breasts while the other takes familiarity in his mouth. suckling and moaning as though this was the best thing to ever happen to him. a laugh turns into a moan before you can stop it.
“shit— jay, i gotta study, come on.” you sigh but you really didn’t want him to move.
luckily he doesn’t because you don’t seem to stop him. he pulls your shirt up higher as higher until it comes off from over your head. unable to help it, your hands go into his hair and hold him there, humming as he groans against your skin. your back arches off the mattress and he decidedly perches you up a little higher with his hand slithering up your spine, stopping between your shoulders blades. bringing your chest closer to his mouth by pressing you right into him. he moans egregiously and sucks in pulses, making the most delicious pressure. he takes the opportunity to bite the flesh again. leaving teeth marks on your breast beside the reddish purple marks that were already forming.
he was purposefully giving you hickeys.
breathing through your teeth as you feel the graze of teeth a little harder, biting down and tonguing at you at the same time. when you tug at his hair, that’s enough for him to moan at the feeling and he looks up at you again, gauging your reaction.
when you finally get a look at your chest, it looked like you’d been punched by a bunch of little fists. shades of the galaxy—purple and blues with hints of red surfacing. you scoff and look at him. jason looks entirely sorry, his bottom lip sideways and his brows pressed low.
“oopsies baby i just meant to put a couple on there—”
you cut him off, “just a couple? i look like i’ve been beat up. oh my god, someone is gonna think i got jumped.”
he blinks and his expression falls, “who else sees your boobs?”
“no one?” you shove him but he just falls back ontop of you as if his bottom half wasn’t already slotted between your legs. regardless of what you’d just said, he’s still nuzzling into your skin like none of it mattered.
“good then. it’s my canvas.” he hums as he settles on the plush part in contentment. “five more minutes.”
you sigh, “three.”
“ten. and i’ll make you pancakes.”
pretending to think as your hands find their way into the hair at the nape of his neck again, he makes a small sound of approval. you use it to coax him more.
“eight and you have to make coffee too.”
he lifts his head so he’s face to face with you and squints before he pecks your lips. “i was gonna do that anyways.”
just as quickly as he got up, he settled back into the position he’s kept you in. though sleep tugged at you as the lazy sunday took full effect on more than just jason. and even though you debated him on how long you’d stay pliant under him, you both knew you could stay there forever.
Late Night Talking | cw: 18+ mdni, fauxcest (uncle!Simon), smut and plot, másturbàtíon (m), p in v, no prep, unprotected sèx, age gap(40 something Simon, 23 yo reader)
a/n: more plot heavy than god intended. So sowry. Can be read solo dolo.
part one. 1.5. next
Simon hates when you ignore him.
I mean, to the point he can feel a migraine coming on. Irritation building, knee bouncing, snapping a little more than usual. He told you not to come over for a little bit, just needed to “sort some things out”. Maybe the space would make that want he felt radiating off of you disappear. Make that kiss you shared nothing but silly imagination, you could go back to what was.
But was it ever ‘normal’?
Maybe it was a car crashing into a wall, feelings bound to come rushing in all at once. The car being put in drive when he noticed how pretty that smile was, how gorgeous you were talking and laughing absentmindedly around the house, or when you called to check up on him, the engine revving and lurching forward without warning when he saw that damn cursive on the side of your hip in passing. ‘Honey’ in cursive, the exact same spot he got a tattoo he’d only recently told you about. Watched the way your shirt rose and fell over it, every curve of your body becoming more recognizable, hypnotized in the thought of touching each of them— the crash. Feeling your body against his, eyes scaling him up and down till he caught you, the electric shock of your fingers against his.
It was almost as if kissing you was unavoidable.
So keeping his mind off you wasn’t possible, not when the house only became a home with you in it. Your belongings scattered around the house still. He ignored you for two weeks— you ignored him for three. He tried to call and you’d block him. He showed up to your parents as an excuse, still at a loss of words of what to actually say to you, and you’d still picked up your siblings before he got there.
And still, the thought of you only entrapped him. He’s seen it over and over, the image of you on top of him, tantalizing, tossing your shirt to the side, hands sliding all over his body, down his slightly pudgy torso, his happy trail, and every single time you’re about to pull his cock out— he jolts awake. He’s too old to be having wet dreams, too old for morning wood. Or popping a boner after imaging you in his living room, on your knees, plump lips wrapped around his cockhead while you stare up at him through your lashes— fuck.
He’s quick this time to catch it, too frustrated with the feelings youre giving him, standing on his feet, one knee on the edge of the bed. rolling his hand down his own rock hard length. Simon slipping his boxers down just enough it springs out. Only getting stiffer with every twist of his rough hand down his shift. He lets out a shuddering breath, he can imagine it in full detail. Too clear. Letting him thumb rub the rest of his tip leaking pre, the way you’d circle your tongue around it, let it get all wet, with your saliva till your pushing your hair to the side, you hand on his thigh till his manhood’s got you choking.
“Shit honey bee,” he grunts out, low moans only growing now, how rough you’d try to be with him, spit gurgling and bubbling onto your cum coated lips, fast, tight— makes him grip himself just the way your mouth would be, warm sucking him through teary eyes. His hand at the back of your neck, rubbing the hairs on your nape, and Simon shudders, lifting his shirt and taking it into his teeth
He’s gotta calm down, but he can’t, muffled groans and huffs filling the bedroom, stroking his dick with vigor, eyelids low, can see the pudge of his stomach, the way he’s making his hand dirtier, every squelch while his hand works it’s way up and down his throbbing shaft. “Bloody. Fuckin- mmph!”
How would you look underneath him right now? That face with your mouth agape, curls sprawled out, making his maddening red dick shine with your quivering hole. How’d you keen so beautifully, “uncle Simon, oh- uncle Simon-“
And the old bastard chokes on a muffled groan, mind fogging with every way he dreamt of slamming into your cunt, his hand feeling the way his hips buck. Simon’s eyebrows knit together, balls tightening while spurts of white fluid lands into his hand.
It wasn’t right.
The man couldn’t even look himself in the mirror as he washed the cum off his hands.
Worse, he heard that damn door unlock. Having to rush out of the bathroom and down the steps. Had he always been this nervous- no- so eager to see you?
And when you saw that look on his face, flushed, confused, unprepared. You thought the worst first, but that’s not your business either, if he has someone else over. He’s your Uncle. And just that. Nothing more or less. You could play along for the rest of your life if need be. Pressing your lips together, you drag your bag of laundry further inside.
“I’ll be quick,” you huff out, not bothering to look him in the eyes, “My washer went out again.”
You’ve been complaining about he old thing for ages, Simon’s offered to buy you a new one when he attempted to repair it. But you declined, told him to spend his money on something better. And then there were the offers for you to just move in, another declined offer. Something along the lines of, ‘I’d be inturding, er- um- it’d be too much for you Uncle Si, got too much goin on..’
But who wouldn’t want to be with you, see you every morning, help you when you needed, see that beautiful face— Simon follows you to the laundry room.
“Just laundry?” He asks.
You nod slow with a blasé look, turning clothes inside out and tossing them into the wash, “Mhm.”
And that could’ve been the easy way for the both of you, letting you do just that. Not ask any questions. Let the rhythm of you bring uncle and niece fall back into place. It’s late already, around 11 pm, leave the idea of fucking you to rust and die, right along with the kiss you’d shared.
But he hears you sniffle, movements only getting more aggressive.
“Honey-“
“—It’s been a… hard week ‘s all.” Another sniffle, shutting the washer machine shut, pouring in the detergent and then running it. Setting it down on the shelf gently. You can only spare him a quick glance as he fills the doorway, brushing past him in search of space, anywhere where you wouldn’t feel trapped with this older man. Your feet guide you down the hall to the dimly lit kitchen, clearing your throat, “I’m sorry for what happened. I- I shouldn’t have done that.”
“[+] y’didn’t do anythin-“
You shake your head fast, words tumbling out faster than your tongue can register, “—I’m not perfect, you know how my family is, I’m trying though. Someone’s got to.” You let out a chuckle that doesn’t reach your eyes, pushing yourself into the counter. The only Riley is across from you. Leaning against the fridge, you can’t read him, but you know his eyes are glued to you even if you dove have a good view of his face in the kitchens light. You take a deep breathe, “But this week, I just- I really needed you, but I didn’t know if I could come and see you, o-or just hear you. And I crossed the line, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry Uncle Si.”
It makes his heart squeeze when he hears those hiccups erupt out of you, feet dragging across the hardwood floor, cooing, “None ‘f this is your fault Dove. Was oll’ on me.”
You fiercely wips your tears, letting him cup your cheeks, only leaning into his warm touch, “I just- I don’t wanna be thrown away. Please, I can’t do it Uncle Si.”
You hesitate, but Simon lets your hand rest on his back, the gap between you only growing smaller. Your eyes close, hot tears still flowing down your pretty face, “I need you Uncle Simon, I need you- hck- but we can’t-“
“—Shhh, shhh, lovie, You need me,” he hush’s you softly, tilting your head up to look at him. Let’s his thumb run across your full plump, mahogany brown eyes getting lost in yours, enchanted, “How do y’need me honey bee. Hm? ‘ll Do exactly what y’want.”
You feel your knees almost buckle, clutching onto his shirt, hands sliding up his back. You don’t even realize you’re pressing yourself against him, begging for what your head can’t even register, “Just need you, need you Uncle Si, need you.”
This older man’s lips are so soft on yours, gentle, guiding. He tilts your head to the side, encapsulating more of your lips, his tongue runs over your lip, gaining access to your mouth. Simon’s in no rush, kisses so slow, tougues swirling around each other’s, moaning and groaning into each others mouths. His hands slide down the globes of your ass, squeezing, before lifting you and setting you down on the counter.
You’re left breathless, string of saliva leaving your lips once he pulls away, but not too far, getting between your legs, pulling off your shirt with his to follow. You can only mumble, hands already sliding down his torso, his tattoos, the scars youve already memorized, “Why am I the only one- hmph- in hurry.”
He sets his hands on the sides of you, grinding his chubbing member against you through his sweatpants, “Swee’art you’ve no idea what you do t’me. Hah— Should I be rougher with you then, huh? ‘S tha what you want?”
You let out a whine, pussy clenching down on nothing, “Want everythin Uncle Si, everything.”
It’s a blur, how he got your pants off, underwear hanging off your ankle, slapping his mushroom tip on your fat clit, through your folds, and to your slippery hole and back. Your stomach coils, squirming as he holds your legs open, nipples growing harder as you whine, “Don’t tease, mm- hurry.”
He hisses, teeth gritting as he buries himself inside your warm walls, “Fuck- You’re bein greedy baby.”
Your velvety walls clench around him, shivers rolls down your spine, you choke on a moan, your eyes shot when you look up at him, “Only way I can get what I want.”
Your head starts spinning, the way Simon starts to snapping his hips into yours, working you open, filling you to the brim, and you can see it. The slippery soaking mess you’re making around his heavy girth, angry red and . His hips flex, fucking into deeper that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head, hands clawing down his back as he kisses your neck.
“Aangh! Uncle Simon!”
And it only makes him harder, bullying himself till you feel him hitting your g-spot. He groans while your hands run through his hair, “This what you wanted? Wanted your uncle t’ finally fuck you tight little cunny like you’ve been needing.”
“Mmm- D-Don’t call it— shit- right there! ‘S right there!” Your pussy trembles as his paces picks up, the countering daring to shift with every filthy thwack, your skin slapping against each other. Balls of your feet are in the dip of his back while he only diggs deeper inside you, drawing out your orgasm that has your toes curling. Mewling, ‘uncle simon, uncle Simon’
He lifts you off the counter, calloused hands kneading the globes of your ass, his cock still slotted deep in your honey dew walls, hiking up higher with every step he makes out the kitchen
You whimper, hands gripping onto his beefy shoulders, “Wait- Si- nngh- Uncle Si take it out, I-I’ll cum again.”
“Then do it, let me feel you honey bee.” He slams you down on his cock, hungry for it, groaning at the grip you’ve got his cock in, the way his cockhead brushes against your womb.
Your hips buck, arch backing while your sensitive pussy throbs around him, your clit all swollen, crying out as topple over again.
Your skins all sweaty as your back hits the mattress of the bed, can see the slick slipping down your mound, letting him box you in with his body. Simon French kisses you again, groaning in your mouth as you suck his tongue, spreading your legs, his member hitting your thigh.
“Not done with you yet dovie,” he grunts, slipping back into you slow, till his balls are pressed right against you, hands pressed down right where the crown of his cock is kissing your cervix, “Gotta show you just how much your Uncle missed ya.”
a/n: well, how was it? I ended up going the needy/‘ooga booga it’s forbidden’ route (which is cliche right?) to the point I just had to follow through with it before I deleted it☠️, it’s okay I think. Gross (complementary)
summary: You have the worst luck in the entire world to be transmigrated into a novel as some faceless side character, where the most notorious villains in the story won’t leave you alone. (ft. Riddle, Leona, Azul, Jamil, Vil, Idia, Malleus).
notes: 12k words, scenario, fluff, mentions of violence, reader gets injured once, heavily based on my love of cheesy isekai/reincarnation/villainess manhwa
All of your problems started with the book your friend lent you.
You didn’t even want to read it at first, but you took the copy because she wouldn’t stop pestering you and spamming you with texts. The title—I’ve Become the Villain’s Lover!—was embossed gold, and the cover picture had seven beautiful men lounging around a woman with brown hair, the woman gazing wistfully into the distance. In short, it was so cheesy it sent chills down your back.
You really weren’t going to read it. But that summer night was hot and humid and you had nothing better to do than stare at the television and stir around your half-melted ice cream. So when you saw the book on the edge of the kitchen counter, you thought, why not? and opened it up.
If it was bad, you would stop after a few pages. But the television kept droning on as you read, and your forgotten ice cream was now melted slush in its bowl, and soon you were halfway through the story.
The premise itself was simple enough: the heroine, Hera Winn, was the treasured daughter of a down on his luck baron. He sent her to the city to make her debut, and after a series of mishaps, she ended up running into the crown prince, Malleus Draconia, who fell in love at first sight. However, the crown prince was feared by his subjects, and rumors swirled around about his fearsome power and his family. To make matters worse, six other men fall in love with Hera. The cherry on top? All seven men were notorious villains, feared by people far and wide for their cruelty.
You were still a few chapters away from the ending when your eyes started drooping; it was impossible to keep them open, even though you were dying to text your friend. It was deliciously bad, in an over-the-top and campy way, and you appreciated how self-indulgent the author was. Seriously, why would seven villains even fall for an ordinary person? It was way too contrived.
Whatever. You could call her tomorrow.
You closed your eyes, and when you opened them again, you found yourself staring at an unfamiliar ceiling. Oh no. No way. This wasn’t what you thought it was, was it?
Conveniently, there was a hand mirror next to you, and when you stared into the frame, the face of a stranger stared back at you.
Your worst fears had come true. You’d transmigrated into I’ve Become the Villain’s Lover!
Shit. You were never going to read another book in your life.
HELPPP am I the only one sobbing rn cuz I can’t find that one scrumptious fanfic about reader getting reincarnated into twst-novel(ish) world where the love interests are the overblot gang and reader gets shoved into the protagonist role(out of their will) and slowly let's put into situations wherein they meet the (villains)love interests, and then there's fluffy, funny, and cute interactions and developments for each love interest, then they fall for reader who keeps rejecting them and after investigating they find out the the OG protagonist is just sitting around not doing their job so reader is stuck with seven guys pining after her— I CAN’T FIND THAT DARN FIC ANYWHERE
You may not realize it but the students at NRC know you're the secret weapon against their Housewarden when they get in trouble or need something done. Their Housewarden has a crush on you.
ft. Riddle and Leona (warning for mentions of depression/death in Leona's part)
There's an endless number of things that make Riddle mad despite all the techniques he's been researching and implementing. It comes with being the Queen of the strictest dorm, he supposes. Really he wouldn't be mad if people would just listen but apparently that's hard! Cater and Crewel were doing well to soften his edges, Trey sweetening the deal with cooking one random thing Riddle's mom never let him have as a child if he could go ten days without popping a vein.
Riddle thought he'd come a long way, honestly. Professor Trein really put it into perspective when he told the boy that the he could build a reputation on something other than anger. He wouldn't want to be known for that, right? Riddle was far more than his rage and it would be an insult to all his other talents to lose to it.
That wasn't to say he could never be angry again. There were absolutely reasonable things to be angry over. Like the scene in the kitchen right now.
Preparations for an Unbirthday Party were in full swing and Trey had the kitchen running like a well-oiled machine. He had dedicated helpers, people monitoring the ovens, people plating, and little runners to arrange the spread. Everyone knew he made extras and finger foods to tide people over before the event. Heartslabyul members tucked away in the nooks and crannies like clever mice as they gorged, enjoying a brief respite before darting off again.
He fully expected Ace or Deuce to be the culprit this time but they had learned. Riddle could only assume the young student didn't know but that didn't stop his blood from boiling. Those were HIS strawberry cheesecake cookies in those greedy little hands, HIS!
ON HIS SPECIAL PLATE AND EVERYTHING!
His throat burned with rage as he teeth ground together. Riddle could feel the vein pulsing in his head as he began to seethe, forgetting to breathe out his nose. Students slipped out of the kitchen, some slow and some quick, but his vision was starting to get hazy with fury and he couldn't keep track.
He doesn't know if the yell finally breaks free, or if Off With Your Head actually hits a target but he does feel someone's hand on his shoulder.
There's no blubbering, no high-pitched pleading, no force or violence.
It's far gentler than he deserves but that gentleness quiets the fierce beat in his ears. The world seems to come back together, the broken pieces wrapped in a fragrance that only you wear. His eyes focus and Riddle feels the guilt drag him down like a stone.
He was so close! What a stupid thing to get mad over! He really was no better than his mother, was he? So quick to jump at others and punish them with no regard...
"Breathe with me," Riddle doesn't dare meet your eyes, focusing instead on the hand resting warmly against his chest, fingers tapping patiently. He knows when to breathe in, breathe out, and hold. You do it with him and he swears you blow away all his anger when you blow out.
You cup his chin, forcing Riddle to meet your gaze. The angry pinch in his brow melts to a tired disappointment. His face flushes with shame, eyes dotting with tears. "It's okay to have these moments. You have to work through them to heal. You just can't live in them."
"I'm sorry," Riddle slumps against you, unable to lift his arms. You let his head rest on your shoulder, wrapping your arms around him.
"You didn't hurt anyone and didn't break anything so there's not much to be sorry about," he feels you shrug. "But you might've scared some people so maybe apologize for that. What was it Trein said? 'Turn your anger into action, seething into saying'? Go explain yourself."
It sounds simple when you say it. Trein's 'seething into saying' was especially potent because it made him realize all the times his mother failed to hear any reasoning but her own. He never had a chance to say anything out loud so it continued to fester on the inside.
"Now," you steal a handkerchief from his pocket, holding his face in your hands as you dab at his eyes, "compose yourself. We have an Unbirthday Party to get to."
"Right you are, my rose. Right you are," Riddle looks up as you tend to his lower lash line and the corners. "It shall be a very merry Unbirthday."
You pass Ace and Deuce in the hallway and Riddle doesn't miss the thumbs up you give them even though you're trying to be discrete.
--------- ---------- ---------
Leona may have the biggest room in Savanaclaw but that doesn't stop him from hearing Jack stretching for his morning jog at four AM. Ruggie's not far behind him; he can hear the hyena beastman cramming school supplies in his bag and taking pictures of his 'side jobs and errands' master schedule. He reaches blindly for his phone, rolling over as his finger finds the button. The light scorches his eyes and he growls low in his throat, tail swishing angrily beneath the twisted sheets.
Of course his phone is pointed at his face! why wouldn't it be, right? He's always being kicked when he's down. Leona scoffs, face relaxing from a snarl as his spotty vision settles. He has about an hour and a half before Ruggie slinks in to pester him for the day.
At least it's a good-natured pestering, unlike the attendants back home. Leona knows he has some internal shit to work out but it runs so deep that he can't scoop it all out. He feels full of holes and doesn't know which one to patch first. Ultimately he bleeds out, resigning himself to a day of nothing because it's easier to sleep and forget everything.
Maybe he'll have energy tomorrow.
Maybe the Great Sevens will grant him mercy and he just won't wake up. A genuine smile twists his lips as he thinks of haunting the palace like the ghosts of Ramshackle. Oh to scare the fur straight off of Farena!
Does that make him a bad person? He's not awake enough to dissect that, honestly. Leona lapses into a blissfully dreamless sleep until his first alarm goes off. The Housewarden musters his energy and looks at his phone again, silencing the alarm and flicking open his class schedule.
Alchemy, huh? It's better than History of Magic so maybe he'll go. The scent of potion ingredients always turn his stomach but nothing nauseates him more than Crewel. Leona doesn't mind the no-nonsense demeanor and gets a kick out of how the freshies squirm under his steely gaze but he hates the look Crewel gives him.
Crewel looks at him like he believes in him and Leona doesn't know what to do.
Leona knows he's defensive and skittish and lashes out when he's uncomfortable but Crewel doesn't seem to care. It leaves Leona confused because he hasn't left yet. Crewel gets under his skin because he knows Leona doesn't listen, tapping into Leona's bottomless desire to be petty.
It usually works and Leona hates it.
He stares at the ceiling after shooing Ruggie away for the third time, more awake than he wants to be. Leona knows he has to get up, get dressed, eat something, and get ready for class. It just...takes so much.
Jack tags in and walks up to his bed, fluffy ears swiveling and tail so puffy it puts Lucius' to shame. His tail shakes nervously and Leona's sleepy green eyes drift up to the way he rubs his neck awkwardly. "It's time to get up," Jack doesn't look him in the eye.
Leona's tempted to ask Jack to pull him off the bed. That's half the battle. He's too prideful to lay in the floor practically naked; it'll motivate him to change clothes. If he's changed clothes, he's up. If he's up, it's only thirty steps to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Between the water and the mint, his stomach will demand food and the kitchen is right by the front door of the dorm.
If he can make it to the front door, he can make it to the mirror chamber. The mirror chamber is on campus so there's no reason to skip class if he gets that far.
"A lot of us look up to you, you know," Jack turns his back on him. Leona knows it's a hard thing for Jack to do, being a beastman and all. "Be the person we know you can be."
"Easier said than done." Leona grumps, finally pulling himself up from the sheets. He hunches over, already tired at the thought of getting dressed.
"But not impossible," you lean against the doorway and Jack's ears press flat as he darts out of the room. "Tap out," you whisper softly, bumping Jack's shoulder as he passes. The wolf beastman gives you a nod as you close the door behind you.
"Who called you?" Leona flashes his fangs in irritation as he moves strategically with his covers to reach the pair of pants waiting nearby. He's told you more than once he sleeps basically naked but you don't seem to care.
"Does it matter? I'm here." you shrug, staring at him with a look he can't read. It's not pity and it's not aggravation so that's nice. "You want help? The hardest part is getting started."
Very wise. Wiser than a herbivore has any right to be.
Leona concedes with a wiggle of his eyebrow, standing up after he's sure his legs are in the pants. He shrugs into them, groggily doing the zipper. His hands linger on the button as he realizes your words come from a life in a world no one else will get to know.
One you may never see again.
All of a sudden he doesn't feel like one of the oldest students. You're younger than him but you've basically lived two lifetimes.
Maybe you have better words for what he's feeling. Maybe they've found a way to fix it in your world and you can teach him.
He buttons the pants and you hold up the brown top. Leona doesn't know why he leans towards you in this moment. Something in you seemed to hold your arms out to him and a piece of him just wanted to be held. If you ask him, he'll say it's less of a hassle
You untangle his necklaces and lay them flat. Something wounded and happy wells up at the feel of your hands on his chest.
If you can do it, he can too. He doesn't know how you do it, but if you can find a way to exist at the end of the day, he can too.
He can exist for you. To thank you.
Is that weird? Maybe.
Leona shrugs into the black sleeveless jacket and cracks his neck, sighing.
"Not so bad, right? The hardest part of the day is already behind you."
You're not wrong but he's not going to tell you that. Leona separates long enough to brush his teeth and walks you to the front door of the dorm.
"How do you always know what to do?" he asks, looking ahead as you walk to the portal connecting to the mirror chamber.
"I don't. But I can see the signs. Depression was pretty common where I came from. You learn things."
"Do you...struggle with it to?" Leona fiddles with a gold clasp in his hair, acting like it got caught in his jewelry as your feet touch ground in the mirror chamber.
"Always."
You say it so honestly that it shocks him. For a moment it makes him jealous. Overall, he's impressed. That takes unimaginable strength. Strength he, the captain of the Spelldrive team, is not capable of.
"How do you beat it?" Leona asks softly, a hint of defeat and exhaustion in his voice.
"I don't beat it," you shake your head. "I chase it off. Sometimes it's for a day, sometimes it's gone a lot longer. Every now and then it sneaks up and gets the jump on me, the little bastard."
He laughs despite himself and doesn't bother to look ashamed.
"I just want more for myself. I don't want to admit it took me down. I want to be able to turn around and stare it in the eyes one day and say I won."
Leona doesn't know how to respond. He also wants to say he conquered his demons and became more than what people expected (or didn't). Once upon a time that win was the crown but now he's not so sure what victory looks like.
You stop in front of Alchemy and gesture to the door. His eyes widen a little. "Go win." you point to the door, sparing him no more time or attention as you went to your class.
Now he knows why Jack and Ruggie called on you. You'll guard him when he's wounded but won't baby him. You understand what he's too scared to put a name to. He is danger incarnate to a herbivore like you and you laugh in his face.
Silly thing. Important thing, but silly thing.
You're silly and he's stupid. A stupid lion with a stupid crush.
【 chapter 1 - the cub, some warmth, and a lion's advice 】
author's note: i'm back with the next installation of this series ! i have some more yuu introspection and a little bit of familial teachers <3 and leona still being a jerk but also being nice for once (totally not bc he doesn't like seeing yuu sad-)
word count: 5.6k
tags: yuu introspection ! (take my yuu brainrot everyone), cheka kingscholar is a ray of sunshine, familial teachers let's go, giving our bb yuu the love they deserve, some angst bc i love me my angst, leona kingscholar gives actual good advice for once ??
[ baby it's cold outside series | read it on ao3 ]
Yuu, as promised, was up very bright and early the next day. Grim was still slumped in their arms, half-asleep as they trudged through the snow over to the bridge. It was quiet. Most students were still asleep since the mirror only opened up at midday. They couldn't forget about it, with how Deuce was gushing about seeing his mom the whole week before.
"Turn over here," Grim mumbled sleepily. "Why're we even up so early?"
"Leona wants me at Savanaclaw bright and early so, sorry for dragging you with me," Yuu put Grim down as they each grabbed a couple of logs.
They still didn't know why Leona wanted them to be there early. Last time they checked, Ruggie could barely drag him out of bed every morning for practice. So there had to be something. Something that was connected to the look that Leona had yesterday. Something that was surely going to be trouble.
Grim took the lead to get them back to the fireplace. As soon as the fire was lit with Grim's magic, fairy-like creatures appeared. They were small, orange hair flickering like a real fire as they made crackling noises akin to wood burning.
"F-funyah, I thought Crowley was making the faires up," Grim stared at them in wonder. Yuu reached out a hand for one of them and to their delight, one sat on their palm. The touch instantly warmed Yuu's hands and more faires started curiously flocking them.
"Sorry little guys," Yuu patted them on their firey little heads. "I can't stay for long today, I have to go and babysit an overgrown lion cub." There was crackling in return and they seemed to wave as Yuu and Grim left the hall. "Well, that was pretty cool."
"It was, but I'm still sleepy..." Grim did a big yawn and stretch, like a cat. "Imma go back to the dorm and sleep a bit. You stay safe, henchman. Don't want you dying, y’know."
"Thanks for believing in me," Yuu said sarcastically. They wrapped their own ratty scarf around Grim. "Don't fall asleep before you get in bed. And make sure to close the doors and windows."
They shivered a bit as they made their way over to the Hall of Mirrors. Yuu didn't exactly have a lot of clothes that were snow-worthy, so they had bought a couple of jackets from the school store. It seemed to be doing its job, but they would have no chance if they were out playing in the snow.
Getting to Savanaclaw gave them a radical shift in weather, going from Sage's Island's cold winter to Savanaclaw's sweltering heat. They carefully peeled back their snow-speckled jackets on their way to Leona's room.
When Yuu opened their door, they half-expected Leona to still be asleep. But what greeted them was a fully awake Leona Kingscholar, lazing around on the couch. He was dressed properly in his dorm uniform this time and green eyes tracked their every move.
Yuu decided to stick with a safe greeting instead of testing him, "Good morning, Leona."
"Bad morning if I'm up this early," Leona's expression shifted before he put out a hand. "Help me up, he's here."
Yuu pulled him up slowly, but wait…who was here?
They don't get to ask any questions before the door flung open and Leona got hit in the stomach by an orange streak of movement. Said orange streak was laughing all the while, "OJITAN! I missed you so much, ehehe~"
"Ugh, not so loud, brat," Leona muttered, and yet he still lifted the child up gently in his arms. Cheka Kingscholar was here, wearing a large puffy jacket and looking like an orange chick in Leona's arms.
And it finally clicked in Yuu's mind when they spotted the look on Leona's face. They're going to have to babysit that tiny lion, aren't they? For however long he was here because they were Leona's “faithful servant”.
Well, shit.
"Oh," Cheka's ears swiveled and he squirmed in Leona's hold to face them. "You're...oh! Aren't you Ojitan's friend? Cheka remembers you from that spelldrive tournament!"
"You have a good memory," Yuu tried to give their best smile. "I'm your uncle's friend. Kind of. My name's Yuu."
"Oi, brat," Leona sighed. "You'll go on a tour of NRC with them, alright?"
"Will you come with us?" Cheka's eyes practically sparkled. "I wanna see Ojitan's cool magic skills!" Oh yeah, they almost forgot the part where the kid idolized Leona and the very ground he walked on.
"Yeah, yeah," Leona waved a hand dismissively. "I have some homework to do so I'll join you in the gardens later." Great, he was already pre-planning his nap time. Cheka seemed to find it an acceptable answer because he ended up walking around the room, marveling at Leona's stuff.
"Hey, servant."
"You called, Leona-sama?" Their words were dripping with sarcasm and Leona wrinkled his nose at them.
"Quit it. There are three rules," Leona raised a finger. "One, keep the brat occupied for as long as you can. Two, he better not get hurt. It's annoying to deal with hurt people. And three, you're still my servant, so you still have to wait on me.
"Who knows?" Leona said with a sharp smile. "Maybe I'll sleep the whole time while you guys are gone. Oh, and he'll only be here for a week, so rejoice."
"Thanks for that quick and easy guide," Yuu mumbled. "Uhm, Cheka? Where's your, uh, stuff?"
"My attendants have it," The little cub said, rifling through one of Leona's drawers. "They're still talking to the crow man, so they'll come soon."
"Alright, so would you like to go on that tour?" Yuu offered a hand and the little lion gladly took it. "NRC's pretty big and it has lots of things to look at."
"I wanna see all of Ojitan's favorite spots!"
"We can do that," Yuu cracked a small smile. "They're all kinda close together, but yeah, we can definitely do that."
"Herbivore, what's with that sad jacket?" Leona asked suddenly. They looked over to see him watching them yet again. Of course he would poke fun at the jackets they manage to scrounge up. Nothing got past him when it came to things he could scrutinize.
"I don't really have proper winter clothes. Crowley's probably supposed to give me some, but he hasn’t."
"Then just use mine," He tilted his head. "I have several jackets so just choose one. It'll definitely be better than that sad excuse of a jacket."
"Y'know, you can just be nice without being a jerk about it," Yuu went through Leona's closet, Cheka curiously peeking at them from the side.
"Where's the fun in that?" Leona sounded like he was smirking. Meanwhile, Yuu found the least expensive-looking jacket that would maybe fit them, taking it out. It still looked like a whole ass dress on them, but at least it was warm.
"And besides. You're working for me for ten days,” Yuu really regretted giving him that much power over them now, seeing the arrogant smirk on his lips. “I don't wanna see you get sick on the first day and not cash in on my free servant."
"You shouldn't be talking so crassly in front of a child," Yuu retorted. "Let's go Cheka." There were no more complaints out of the Savanaclaw Housewarden as they exited his room. Which was good, because one more comment and Yuu would’ve probably taken the child and ran.
"I think Yuu-tan is very cool," Cheka whispered conspiratorially as they made their way to Savanaclaw's mirror.
"Hmm? Why's that?"
"My Ojitan doesn't like talking to anyone at home. Even the servants and my papa," Cheka said with a giddy look on his face. "So seeing him talking a lot with Yuu-tan, that means he's very good friends with Yuu-tan, right?"
"Kind of?" Yuu really didn't know how to answer the little lion's increasing number of questions. Them being friends with Leona Kingscholar just didn’t sound that correct. It wasn't as if they were Leona's lackey and they weren't exactly…on equal terms. It was hard to think of a clear answer.
But they didn't have to when they spotted Jack doing his morning jog. "Oh look, it's my friend, Jack."
Jack must've heard them approaching because he jogged over to the sidelines, "Hey, Yuu. Back again? And with...eh? Isn't that Leona-senpai's...?"
"Woah! Do you know my Ojitan?" Cheka beamed at him as he stuck out a hand. "I'm Cheka! Nice to meet you, big wolfie!"
"I'm babysitting Cheka for winter break," Yuu deadpanned. And they didn't miss the slightly amused look on Jack's face before smacking him.
"Do you play spelldrive too, wolfie-tan?"
"Wolfie-" Jack sighed, resigning himself to the nickname. "Yeah, I do. Actually, your uncle's the captain of our spelldrive team. Pretty cool, right?"
"So he does practice here?" Cheka looked out into the field. "So cool! I miss seeing him play. Where to next, Yuu-tan?"
"I guess we can go visit the main street?" Yuu glanced over at Jack before smiling slyly. "Bye-bye, wolfie-tan." And Cheka echoed the goodbye. Yuu swore they saw Jack's cheeks tinting at the nickname. They took that as their revenge.
As soon as they stepped through the mirror, Yuu let Cheka clamber up into their arms. It made their arms hurt like when Grim was dead asleep on it, but it was better than risking the crown prince of Afterglow Savanna getting sick because of them.
"So these are the sports fields," Yuu tried to act the part of a tour guide as Cheka ooh-ed at the fields. "You can't really see it because of the snow, but that's basically where we do our flying lessons."
"Do you do flying lessons too?" Cheka asked, tilting his head.
"Uh, I do. But my broom's kinda special since I don't have magic of my own."
"I knew it!" Cheka grinned triumphantly. "You don't smell like magic! It's a nice smell though so I don't care." It impressed Yuu how both Kingscholars could notice their lack of magic so quickly. A beastmen's nose sounded like it'd come in handy at times.
"Thanks, little lion," Yuu couldn't help the small quirk of their lips at the compliment. "Maybe if we get permission from Leona, we can play out here tomorrow in the snow. Do you get lots of snow at the Savanna?"
"Nope!" He said, emphasizing the 'p'. "It's always sunny or rainy there, mostly sunny. But there's lotsa snow here, I'm sure Ojitan will let us play!"
As they were about to step out of the fields, a voice yelled out to them, "Hey! Wait a second!"
And there was Vargas, in the flesh, shoving a hat into their arms, "I gotta go quick so here's my gift! Don't forget to exercise in the winter. With plenty of eggs and exercise, your muscles will thank you!!" Then he was running off yet again.
Huh. Did they just get gifted a hat just now? From Vargas, of all people? The hat looked really warm, with fur lining the inside and ear flaps to keep their ears from the biting wind. It was a dark brown leather, with a red strap to keep it on their head.
"Uh...you wanna try the hat?" Cheka nodded eagerly and Yuu plopped the hat onto the cub's orange and yellow hair. The hat was too big, but Cheka gave a big, toothy grin that told them he liked it all the same. And besides, he looked really cute in the hat. It made Yuu briefly wonder if Leona was ever this cute as a child...which was besides the point.
They meander over to the path, icy rock crunching beneath their boots, "This is the main street. It has the Statues of all the Great Seven. Do you know about them?"
"Mm! I remember Ojitan telling me about them once," Cheka said, tapping his chin. "He told me about...the King of Beasts!"
"Did you know that your uncle's dorm was based on the King of Beasts?" Yuu trudged on. "He's this statue right here."
"That's such a scary-looking lion," Cheka mumbled in awe. "But it kinda looks like Ojitan." Yuu snorted at the comparison. It was…kinda true. The haughty look and the scar over his eye really did remind them of Leona. Or maybe they were just thinking too deeply into it.
As they kept walking, they noticed that Cheka's tail had come to rest under their arm, curling away from the cold. "Are you cold, little lion?" Yuu asked, looking at the child's reddened nose.
"Kinda. But I wanna keep going!" Cheka sniffled, though his eyes looked determined.
"We can keep going after a short break," Yuu took a detour from the main road to go to Sam's. "Let's go here. Usually your uncle gets his snacks from here."
Yuu put Cheka down as they entered the store, "Sam? You open yet?" Yuu didn't see the usually-spirited man, but they did see the shadows shift to mimic his shape. "Do you know where Sam is?" Sam’s friend from the other side shook its head before vaguely ruffling up both Yuu and Cheka's hair.
Cheka squealed in delight, "What's that, what's that!! That's so cool!"
"That is my friend from the other side, little imp," Sam pranced out of the depths of the store. "Sorry for the wait, I was busy packing stuff for Ruggie-kun."
"Ruggie-senpai? What are you packing up?" Sam gestured to the big bags of food behind him.
"All the stuff that's near expiry," He explained jovially. "Ruggie-kun has a lotta mouths to feed back in his neighborhood so I do this as a favor every break."
"Hey, mister!" Cheka pointed at one of the sparkly things at the corner of the store. "What's that?"
"And who might you be, littler imp?" Sam cooed. Yuu couldn't help but think the older man had a soft spot for kids in general. He was kind hearted enough to pack everything for Ruggie too.
"I'm Cheka Kingscholar! I'm here to visit my Ojitan," Cheka beamed, before continuing his long speech on why he loved Leona so much and why he was his favorite person.
"Could you tell Sam I'll take a hot cocoa?" Yuu whispered over to the shadows that were clinking the glass cups. Yuu took the paper one instead. The shadow gave a thumbs up and Yuu set to work mixing up the warm drink for Cheka. They were sure that he would definitely enjoy something sweet.
As they waited for the hot water to boil, they pulled out their phone. Crowley had gotten it for them after the whole Octavinelle incident, which had been really helpful. They pressed on Leona's number. Now, how did they get his number? Well, by getting Ruggie to sneak into his phone to get it– at the price of a week's worth of premium lunches.
They put the phone closer to their ear when the line clicked, "Great and benevolent Leona-sama, it is I, your faithful servant."
There's a sharp sigh over the line, "If you don't get to the point in the next one minute, I'm ending the call."
"Wait, wait," Yuu fumbled. "I'm just calling to check in on you."
"Hah? Could've just texted me," There was shuffling over the line and Yuu belatedly wondered if he was asleep right before.
"Calling's faster. Anyway, how's the work?"
"It's getting done. Don't worry," Leona yawned. "There're so many alchemy equations, it's almost like Crewel is mad at me."
"Gee, I wonder why," Yuu shifted the phone to their other hand when the water was done. "It's not like you skip his classes most of the time."
"More attitude and I'll turn the paper to dust," Leona said; no heat behind his warning.
"Sure, sure. Do you want anything from Sam's? I stopped by to get the cub some hot cocoa," Yuu gently stirred the liquid, adding in milk.
"Get me something with meat, I'll meet you at the gardens in thirty."
There's a hand tugging their jacket, "Is that Ojitan? Can I talk to him?"
"Say no. Oi, herbivore-"
"Only for a second okay," Yuu said sweetly, handing the phone over to Cheka so he could talk to his beloved Ojitan.
"How many marks for the cocoa, Sam?" Yuu pulled out their wallet. "Oh, and if you could pack up three, no four burgers to go?"
"Two marks for one, and the burgers make it fourteen," Sam smiled secretively. "Before you go, I've got a gift for you, Prefect."
"A gift?" Yuu blinked, staring as Sam pulled out a box.
"It's not quite what you kids are into these days, but I thought it'd suit you!" Sam opened the box. "Ta-da~" Inside was a black scarf with little skulls printed on it in dark purple. A scarf. Sam was giving them a scarf.
"It's wintertime, so I wouldn't want my favorite little helper to freeze," Sam gently wrapped the scarf around them. "I hope that you have a good break here. Sage Island is beautiful at this time of year."
"I...thank you," Yuu couldn't keep that vulnerable tone from their voice. And they couldn't help it, that they were touched by such a simple gift. They thought back to Vargas’ rushed gift-giving as well which made them draw a sharp inhale. Was this planned all along?
"Oh! I got a matching smaller one for the little fire imp too," Sam brandished a Grim-sized scarf. "Stay safe this winter, and I'll see you next year, little imp."
"You too."
There's a tug on their jacket and Cheka's there, "Ojitan wants to talk to you."
"Yeah?" And Yuu turned away from Sam, giving Cheka his drink. "Be careful, it's hot, okay?" They blinked rapidly, trying to stop any tears from falling.
"...Why the hell do you sound two seconds from crying?" There goes trying to be subtle. Curse Leona Kingscholar for having such good hearing.
"Uhuh, a gift is making you cry," Leona's tone was teasing, but Yuu could hear the slightest trace of concern.
"It's complicated, ask me later," Yuu dismissed, not set on baring the softer parts of their heart to Leona Kingscholar, and most certainly not over the phone. "I got you a burger. I hope it's enough for your kingly tastes."
There was a small pause, "Yeah. Sure. Don't forget to watch the brat like a hawk."
"I'll keep him safe, don't worry," Yuu felt a lot less like crying after the short back and forth with Leona. The line clicked and Yuu was greeted with the sight of Cheka eagerly sipping at his hot cocoa.
"You like it?" Cheka nodded vigorously and Yuu felt like that was mission accomplished. "Should we continue then? Er, you can hold the drink if I put a cap on it." Yuu still wasn't used to accommodating Cheka. His antics might've been similar to Grim, but he was a complete angel compared to him.
"Let's go!" Cheka said cheerily. "Bye shadow-tan and Sam-tan!!" Sam waved them off from where he continued to pack food into bags. Holding on to a kid in one hand and the burgers, Yuu felt like they had become a true babysitter.
The inside of the main building was warmer, so they helped Cheka take off his little puffy coat.
"Yuu-san," They stood up to see Trein walking down the hallway, Lucius in his arms.
Lucius jumped off, approaching the duo with caution. He was probably being wary of Cheka. But Cheka's eyes were sparkling as he saw Lucius.
"Kitty!" Cheka giggled. "I'm a cat too, but a big cat. A lion, ehehe~!" He patted Lucius, who sniffed at Cheka before rubbing against him. Yuu took the hot cocoa off him before an accident could happen.
"Who is this?" Trein asked, looking down at Cheka with unreadable eyes.
"That's Cheka, Leona's nephew. I'm touring him around," Yuu smiled at the quiet teacher. "Are you going home for the holidays?"
"I will be returning to my daughters once the mirror opens," Trein acknowledged. "Lucius is also quite ready for a change of pace." Said cat was now purring in Cheka's arms, tiny tongue licking at the squealing cub's face.
"I almost forgot," Trein pulled out a small pouch. "Lucius." Said cat squirmed out of Cheka's hold and over to the Prefect, butting his head at their legs.
"I personally wanted to gift a black pair, but Lucius chose these grey ones, which were also elegant," Trein said solemnly, taking out a pair of winter gloves. "I see you got a scarf from Sam-san and the hat from Vargas already?"
"Wh– Oh, ah, yes," Yuu fumbled with the stuff in their hands before accepting the gloves gingerly. "Did you all plan this out beforehand?"
"Who could say?" Trein smiled the slightest bit, which shocked them. "Maybe it was just a whim of ours."
"Ah! That's Yuu-tan's third gift!" Cheka looked curiously as they pocketed the gloves. "Is it your birthday?"
"Yuu-san can't go home right now," Trein said, picking up Lucius once again. "So as teachers, we want to make sure they're having a good break here at NRC."
Cheka nodded, "It's okay, Yuu-tan! You have me and Leona-ojitan! You won't be lonely, ehehe~" If Yuu was a different person then maybe they would've cried right then and there at the words they received. But instead they swallowed around the lump in their throat.
"Thanks, Cheka, Trein-sensei," Yuu gave a small smile before stuffing the gloves into the pockets. "Shall we go meet with your uncle?"
"Yes!" Cheka agreed. "Bye, Kitty and Mr. Kitty's owner." As Trein left, Yuu turned toward the direction of the infirmary. It was faster to use the bridge to go over to Ramshackle and then over to the botanical gardens rather than go all the way around again.
"Wait a second, puppy!" There was the sharp clack of shoes before Crewel came into view. "I cannot have you walking around in that atrocious color!"
Cheka looked confused, "Puppy?"
"He calls us all his puppies," Yuu said in a conspiratorial tone. "He's the alchemy professor."
"Tch, I see the others got to you first, but behold," Crewel brandished what looked like a designer brand shopping bag. "Now don't go feeling bad about the price, this jacket was an old one I outgrew. And its quality is assured."
"Wait, Crewel-sensei, I-" Yuu had the burgers, the jacket, and scarf taken off by Crewel's careful hands.
"Who am I if I leave one of my favorite puppies shivering all winter long," He said dramatically, tugging the jacket over Yuu's shoulders. "Yes, your physique is perfect for this jacket as I thought."
Cheka's eyes were the size of dinner plates by the time Crewel was done, "Yuu-tan!! You look super cool!" It was a warm winter jacket in an elegant black, faux white fur lining the hood and layers upon layers of zippers.
"Thanks, Crewel-sensei," And Yuu felt their ears flushing when Crewel patted their head.
"I hope you have a wonderful holiday and return with a fresh mind, puppy," Crewel backed away, a smile on his face. "I'm expecting a lot from you next year." They felt that same warmth again, but it felt less like they were going to cry this time as they watched Crewel leave.
Yuu picked up the bag, Leona's jacket folded neatly inside, and the burgers on top, "Let's go. Your uncle might be waiting."
"I bet Ojitan's gonna be surprised," Cheka giggled. "Yuu-tan looks very pretty and handsome."
"You think so?" Yuu does a slow spin as they walk. Cheka giggled again and copied them.
"I know so," Cheka reached his arms up, and Yuu carried him. His tiny hands pat at Yuu's face. "Yuu-tan has a different smell than other humans but is very kind. So you're pretty and handsome like my papa says."
It was quite the trek over to the botanical gardens, especially with Cheka insisting on being carried the whole way. When they finally got there, the botanical garden was sweltering as always, but Cheka was in their arms, so...they were toughing it out. They found Leona within a familiar underbrush almost immediately.
"Leona-sama, Cheka-sama and I have returned," Yuu sat down next to the seemingly dozing lion.
"Do you and Ojitan play attendant and master a lot?" Cheka asked, sitting on his uncle's stomach. Leona still didn't stir.
"We're playing because it's winter break. Now, c'mon I even got you a burger," Yuu sighed. "Okay, fine. Two burgers."
Leona finally shifted, "Took you long enough."
"I got a little sidetracked," Yuu handed over the burgers, including Cheka's.
"You stink."
"Gee, thanks."
Cheka giggled, "I didn't know Yuu-tan was so popular. So many people gave presents for the winter holidays!"
Leona raised a brow, already halfway through his first burger, "That's why you stink of Crewel and were crying?"
"You...are literally the worst," Yuu grumbled. "I didn't cry, I was touched by these thoughtful gifts."
Cheka, with a mouthful of burger, suddenly exclaimed, "It's so Yuu-tan won't be lonely, the teachers said. But they have us, so it's okay!"
And Yuu just prayed that Leona would forget about it. They did not want to talk about this, especially not to…to Leona. They didn't even know if they could get through it without crying.
But as fate would have it, Leona Kingscholar wasn't just anyone. He was sharp, knowing where to dig his claws in a hunt. He was also patient, someone who could circle his prey just waiting for a slip-up.
After roaming around school all day, Cheka must've been tired because he instantly fell asleep right in his uncle's lap after finishing his food. Leaving a lucid Leona and Yuu alone.
And that was when Leona decided to bite.
"What's that about you being lonely?" As soon as the words left Leona's lips, Yuu felt like they were the one being hunted.
"It's....nothing. Something Cheka made up, I'm not...lonely." The words tasted like ash on their tongue because it was untrue and the expression on Leona's face showed he was unconvinced.
"Look. I'm not into sappy shit," Leona lied down, placing Cheka on the soft grass. "So why don't you just rant while I rest. That way it's off your chest, or whatever. Consider it a favor for today." Yuu could only watch as Leona slipped an arm under his head, falling asleep within a couple of seconds. Yuu peeked at him, resting their head against their knees.
"Just about everyone's going home for the holidays," It hurt for Yuu to inhale as they thought about their next words. "Ace was busy complaining about his brother's welcome pranks. Deuce said his mom's going to cook his favorites when he returned. And Jack's going snowboarding with his family. Ruggie-senpai has tons of food from Sam's for his neighborhood. Fuck, even you have Cheka here. No matter how much you claim to dislike him, I know you care.
"And not to be a total pessimist, but I only have Grim. I can't even see my family, if I even had one because I'm here. In Twisted Wonderland. Which isn't the worst place to be...
"But...I can't... I don't remember them. Somewhere somehow I lost every single memory I had of my family or my friends. Whenever I try thinking about it, my brain comes up blank and it's...the most awful feeling I've ever experienced," When Yuu inhaled, their breathing felt sticky, just like the tears that were rolling down their face. "I miss them. I want to remember what I forgot...if I had any family at all. I-it hurts to see everyone else just..enjoying their breaks and I know it's not their fault but..."
"You're envious all the same." It's Leona's voice that finished the sentence, and his voice that startled them into a hard flinch.
"I thought you said you were sleeping," Yuu asked shakily, glancing between their arms to see Leona finally opening his eyes.
"Never said I'd actually fall asleep," Leona sat up. "So that's why? You can't remember your family or friends from back there?" Yuu nodded the best they could, breath catching when Leona came closer to them.
“If you don’t remember them, then why not make new ones?” The suggestion had them snapping their head up. There was a smirk on Leona’s face when he saw their face. “There we go. Finally got your eyes on me, huh, herbivore.”
“What- what do you mean by that?”
“What I mean is,” There’s a hand plopped on their head. “Instead of agonizing over what you can’t remember, why don’t you focus on those you can remember?
“Your merry band of herbivores, the pup Jack, that cat of yours. The prissy Heartslabyul students, the octo-jerk and his goons, Ruggie, hell, even the teachers.
"Ugh, what I mean is: In Afterglow Savanna, family’s those who care about you, so you...have plenty of family members here at NRC.”
Yuu blinked. That was… “...really good advice,” they murmured out as they tilted forward till they bumped into his arm. “Thank you.”
“Don’t count on me doing it again, herbivore,” Leona’s hand ruffled their hair before he yawned. “Now stop cryin’ already, it’s making it hard to sleep.”
Of course. Typical Leona. He couldn’t let a sweet moment be, he just had to find a way to bite back at the end. It still made Yuu feel a lot better as they watched Leona lie down to take a proper nap this time.
And Yuu was content watching him and Cheka doze. It gave them ample time to calm down and to think about what Leona said. And he was right. Maybe they didn't need to try so hard to remember. It'll all come back someday so...they should live in the present. And their current present was taking care of these two, so they would try enjoying it to the fullest. Thinking about it that way, well...it didn't seem so bad.
[ omake : sleep with us ! ]
Leona scratched at his ears as he sat on his bed. It was nighttime now, and after that little nap, the little brat had wrung them dry with requests. And by them, he meant the herbivore. It seemed that they were taking their job as a babysitter seriously. Now Cheka was throwing a tantrum because the herbivore wanted to go back to their dorms.
"Cheka, it's okay," Yuu was crouching in front of the little cub that blocked their way. "I'll be back tomorrow, I promise." It's kinda cute how they think Cheka would just give up that easily. The brat was almost as stubborn at him at times.
"But, but!" Cheka's cheeks puffed out. "I want you to sleep here." Me too, Leona wanted to echo. But if things went well then he would get exactly that without even lifting a finger. Besides, was the prefect someone who was immune to a kid's pleading? He didn't think so.
"I, er, have a friend that'll be worried if I don't go back."
"But why can't you sleep here with me and Leona-ojitan?" Yuu threw a glance over, and Leona took care not to seem too amused by the cub's actions.
"Because there's no space unless I sleep on the couch...?" Leona snorted at the poorly covered-up lie. It was useless, because-
"Leona-ojitan's bed is big enough for the three of us!" And there we go, Cheka finally pointed out the elephant in the room. Cheka tugged at their shirt. "Please~ Stay with me."
"Give it up, herbivore," Leona yawned. "The night isn't getting any longer. Just get over here already." The brat sent them the best puppy eyes‐ or was it kitty eyes?– that he could before the herbivore finally sighed.
"Fine. Let's go to sleep," Yuu carried the little menace over to the bed and Cheka went straight to pulling them closer to him. Which he appreciated. But he could do it on his own if he wanted to.
He ended up with the herbivore sidled up close to him, Cheka squishing between them both and using Yuu like a personal pillow. Which was rude, because clearly, Yuu was his personal pillow, not Cheka's. But he would allow it this once since he did a good job of getting them to stay.
He could still see the slight redness in their eyes from when they had cried earlier. It still left a bad taste in his mouth just thinking about it. He hadn't realized how lonely of an existence the herbivore was until that moment.
"Does he get that stubbornness from you?" Their eyes met his and he doesn't look away.
Instead, he shrugged, "Dunno. Maybe. Now go to sleep." Thankfully the prefect didn't open their smart mouth again. They fell asleep quick, probably just as exhausted as the brat was.
But Leona found that he couldn't sleep all that easily that night. The warmth he was feeling, the sound of two others was far too loud in his ears. And a sense of kinship from the herbivore of all people; the loneliness that they couldn't yet shake. Leona had known that feeling all too intimately for far too long. So maybe this time, he could be the one to be there for them. This time, he could be the helping hand that his younger self would’ve wanted to have.
thanks for reading the yuu angst ! comments and rbs are always appreciated <3 if you'd like to read more, check out my ao3 + masterlist !
Oh, and SIMON "GHOST" RILEY having a successful wife would include two major things.
Firstly, he would be the one asking if she wants to sign a prenup. No, scratch that, he would slid the paper onto her side of the table on a random Sunday, sipping his cuppa and scratching his stubble like it's their usual morning. She would put him on time out, and that would make him puzzled.
The man just wants his wifey's money protected, what all the fuss is about?
Secondly, he would still look, behave and even eat just as before meeting her. Lads would look at his lunchbox with pre-heated pasta with sausages and whisper to each other "doesn't his wife drive, like, lamborghini?"
"She doesn't." He would answer, crossing his arms on his chest while looking at them. "I'm 'er personal driver. Now shut up and eat".
captain john price who bangs his pretty cute girlfriend over his desk while the rest of his team sits awkwardly on the other side.
“open your eyes,” he commands you, his voice deep and rough. “I said, open em. are ya gonna piss me off too?”
and so you find it in you to open them despite the embarrassment that sits low in your gut as he ruts himself into you. It’s not hard to make out who’s in front of you. his warm skin and signature hat makes him easy to identify and as your vision focuses, you can make out the crimson on his cheek and the sweat building on his neck.
you look at him, almost apologetically, as if saying “I’m sorry you have to see me like this,” because Kyle truly is an angel and the idea of his knowing what your eyes looked like when all fucked out seemed like a sin on its own.
first, he calls out soap for texting you late at night. john fists the hair on your head till you’re facing the scot who’s not looking at your eyes, but somewhere lower. “y’know what couples do at night, Mactavish? I’ll give you a hint.” price snakes his arm between your legs, pinching and rolling your clit to which you let out a pained and delicious mewl.
and next in line is gaz, whose gesture of buying you your favorite foods has gone unliked by price. luckily, Gaz is sitting right next to soap so you don’t have to strain yourself to find him. Gaz knows he shouldn’t stare…but he can’t help himself and surprisingly, the captain hasn’t told anyone to stop so he swallows the lump in his throat, and commits the sight before him to memory.
then there’s ghost, who refuses to acknowledge he has actively done anything. “bullshit. wanna tell me why you’re always staring at her ass?” which shuts the brooding man up immediately.
your orgasm comes quick, as it always did. your words come out broken and desperate but they barely register to your boyfriend who has his own agenda.
your eyes roll back as you climax, the euphoria sending you into a blissful state of haze. but john doesn’t stop, not when he has a point to prove.
so he fucks you through your high, and then he fucks you more. your hand presses against his thigh with no real pressure, sobbing cries of overstimulation.
“after today, i want no more foolery from any of you. I’d suggest you take today for all it’s worth because after tonight, you can all go to your beds and jerk off your pathetic cocks to the memory of this and. nothing. else.” he punctuates each word with a sharp thrust, willing either your legs or the desk legs to give out.
“do i make myself clear?”
and the answer all comes in unison. “Yes, Captain.”
