#He's become more honest in the fog

[idol-trickster]

💧 - How would your muse react to losing a best friend? How would they cope?

"A best friend...? I never really had any."

He thought a moment. Was that really true? He had co-workers... but he never considered them best friends. Why? Because in his career, work came first. Relationships had to have a marketable benefit, which meant faking being friends. Sometimes you could almost forget it was fake though... but that made you weak, vulnerable, and distracted; dangerously letting you create someone who knows how to use you.

There's no doubt that being in the fog was the most indulgently selfish thing Jiwoon had in a long time. Killing does have a way of isolating you emotionally from others... or maybe it was instead the byproduct to cope from isolation.

"I guess... I'd just move on. I'll miss them, but missing them won't bring them back. Instead, I'd rather do something with what I learned from them. If they were important, there will be plenty of things which will remind you of them, find ways to honor them, and eventually, you can replace the space they left."

[thesoftestpunk]

I want you, Baby I need you

Summary: your friend tells you someone may like you and so stupidly, you begin to think about them a little differently

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Word count: 5.2k

A/N: I feel like my brain fog made the pacing weird :/

Warnings: bullying, girls being mean :(, lots of fluff and pining!!

Main Masterlist

Pt.2

“Guess what?” One of your teammates, Christina, asks the second you place your tray down on the table, looking too smug for your liking. Before you can even ask, she’s talking over you. “The freak has a crush on you.”

“Who?” You genuinely forget who she’s referring to for a second, but her scoff seems to jog your memory. “Oh. Eddie Munson?” 

“Who else?” She sneers, and everyone else around you laughs like it’s some huge joke, but you’re certain she isn’t joking. “God, how embarrassing.”

Your cheeks burn as they laugh even harder. You let out a weak chuckle, feeling the world around you shrink and become suffocating. 

“Yeah,” you let out, trying to play along. “Could you imagine? Me and him?” 

You blatantly refuse to call him a freak. Since moving into town two years ago, you quickly learned city life and small town life were completely different worlds. Despite falling in with the semi-popular crowd by joining the swimming team, you understood the struggle Eddie and his friends had to go through. You weren’t freak status back home, but you weren’t popular either. Not always well known, but always well liked, and your new friends teasing him about the rumor makes you worry about it spreading. For your sake and not his. You don’t want to deal with any sort of teasing from anyone.

Guilt crawls up your throat as you steal a glance toward his table, catching his eye as he curiously looks on at the boisterous scene going on around you. You give a quick smile, which probably comes off as more of a wince, and turn back around. In all honesty, he hasn’t been on your radar. You don’t know much about him other than the fact that he’s loud, labeled The Freak of Hawkins High, and has made a scene or two in class. 

“Oh god,” Christina sighs out, wiping nonexistent tears from her eyes. “Pathetic.” 

Humming half heartedly, you focus on shoving your shitty school food around your tray instead of eating it, a sudden pit sitting heavy in your stomach. Because Eddie having a crush on you actually felt flattering. 

You choose to sit next to him in English, even give a small smile when you sit. There’s still time before the bell rings, and you find yourself glancing over at him. You open and close your mouth, uncertain of what to say until the words suddenly come tumbling out.

“How many tattoos do you have?”

For a second he doesn’t realize you’re talking to him until the silence makes him look up and realize you’re staring straight at him, expectantly. He points to himself as if asking ‘me?’ eyebrows raised and his already wide doe eyes getting even wider. And you nod while fighting off a smile. 

“Why d’you wanna know?” He eyes you suspiciously, certain that whatever information you’re about to get out of him is going to get back to your friends and fuel the constant fire over his head. 

“I dunno,” you shrug a shoulder, but you’re honest. What the fuck were you supposed to say to Eddie Munson anyway? He was intimidating as hell because he put himself in the spotlight like it was nothing. It isn’t like you hate attention, but too much makes you nauseous. “Thinking about getting one, I guess?”

“You guess?” His head tilts, causing his hair to cascade over his shoulder. Of course he would be defensive. Christina was just making fun of him less than an hour ago. 

“It’s- forget it,” you shake your head. You can’t believe you would trust your nasty, mean friends when they said he had a crush on you. 

Turning back to the front of the classroom, you wait painfully for the bell to ring, and once it does, the room fills quickly with slightly out of breath students. A couple of your teammates wave at you until you finally break and they gesture wildly, asking ‘what the fuck are you doing sitting next to him?’ All you can do is give an apologetic shrug and decide you’ll lie to them later and say it was the only seat you could find. They just roll their eyes and pull out their textbooks. 

“Five.” Eddie’s voice surprises you. 

Turning your head, you hope no one sees when you ask. “Did they hurt?”

“No, ‘course not.” He bites back a smile, trying to act all tough. 

“Liar.” Your nose scrunches and it makes him laugh at how cute it is. 

You don’t mean to, truly, but now you look out for Eddie in the halls, stare at him during class, and hope for one more conversation. One that’s less embarrassing, but you do hope. Despite your friend's relentless teasing after English class the other day, you give a small wave back anytime he gives you one. You never initiate first, too shy and afraid it’ll lead to more teasing. This way you can just say you’re being polite when you wave back and they see, but more often than not, they’re too caught up in their own little worlds. Even though you’re scared they’ll tease, you keep an eye out for him and you learn more than you ever knew before. He’s polite. He lets the cheerleaders walk ahead if they bump into each other at a corner in the hall. One arm is tucked behind his back as he sweeps the other out and he bows a little. They give him weird looks respectively, but he just smiles and moves on. He might joke around with his friends, but if you listen closely, you can hear the kindness and compliments hidden underneath the meaning of his words. The group is small, but he holds the same amount of care for each and every one of them. Including his ‘little sheepies’ which you don’t fully understand, but he used a lot of words you don’t understand, and you thought you were smart. After a little investigating, you learn some of them are made up, but you seem to like the fact that he’s nerdy and into this series called Lord of the Rings. 

You’re starting to like Eddie.

“Oh my God,” Christina moves in your line of sight, in front of him. You’d positioned yourself at the cafeteria table so you didn’t have to turn around to subtly watch him anymore. “Are you staring at the freaks?”

“Stop calling them that,” you roll your eyes. “You know I hate that.”

She crosses her arms defensively. “Just, you know, being honest. What’s so interesting about them anyway?”

“Nothing.” You mutter, going back to nibbling on the shitty cardboard pizza they served today. 

She turns around and gets the biggest shit eating grin you’ve ever seen from her when her eyes connect with Eddie’s. 

“Holy shit. You’ve got a crush on The freak!”

“Christina!” You swat at her, but it’s too late. Everyone else at your table already heard and is staring at you incredulously. “I- I do not.”

“Puh-lease. You’ve been making googly eyes at him for weeks at this point!”

“It hasn’t been weeks,” you mutter under your breath.

“Ew!” Another one of the girls scrunches her nose and jabs a thumb in his direction. “Him?”

“Better be careful, Y/N,” another taunts. “Don’t wanna find you in the woods. I heard he, like, sacrificed a girl out there last year. No one’s heard from her since.”

“Oh my god, me too!” Christina pretends to look concerned. “You think that’s what happened to Nancy’s friend too? What was her name? Bev?”

“Didn’t he like…” the girl to your left leans in and stage whispers, but she could be heard from across the room if you listened hard enough. None of them understood the concept of speaking at a normal volume. “Bite a bat's head off?” 

“That was actually Ozzy Ozbourne!” Eddie leans so far back in the chair that the two front legs don’t touch the ground, one of his legs lifted so the bottom of his dirty Reebok’s supports his weight against the table. 

You’re mortified at the idea that Eddie has heard every single word, but he was at the other end of the long table today. 

“Ugh,” Christina rolls her eyes again before turning to face him. “As if we know that freak either!”

“Tina,” you hiss, not wanting to start a scene over this nonsense. 

“Whatever. You don’t have a crush.” She fully faces the table again and starts talking about the party at Jason’s after the game on Friday. 

You go to throw an apologetic look at Eddie, but find him missing from the table, and a couple of his friends send glares your way, making you shrink in shame. 

Eddie isn’t in English, or History, and you find out through the grapevine he skips the rest of the day entirely. It wasn’t uncommon for him to do, but you feel like it’s your fault. The days leading up to the party, he seems to avoid you, eyes darting away quickly and showing up late enough to class that it’s guaranteed there’s no free seats around you. Christina seems to take notice of your sour mood, but only asks once. You lie and say you’re fine, but you feel sick to your stomach. You never actively partook in the bullying, but you never stopped it either. 

The day of the game finally rolls around, filled with school spirit and a pep rally, but once again Eddie is nowhere to be found. Not that he’d ever attended a pep rally in his whole high school career, but you at least expected to spot him at lunch. He’s even absent from your shared classes. After school, you hang around in the parking lot, wasting time before you all have to go home and get ready for the game. You frown as you observe his friends, chatting away aimlessly and occasionally throwing candy around. They hang around what you think is Eddie’s van, but if he skipped all day, why would he be here now? 

“Hey,” Christina’s voice surprises you, quiet and genuine. “Just us girls… you have a crush on Munson?”

“I…” you trail off, surprised she isn’t faking her valley girl voice, and you feel like you can trust her once again since you met her two years ago. She wasn’t your first friend in Hawkins, but you had been close when you first joined the team. “I dunno. He’s actually kinda sweet. Maybe?”

“Seriously?” And then she guffaws, catching you off guard once more. “Ugh, grody! Guys, Y/N actually has a crush on Munson!”

“I- I didn’t say that!” You can’t believe Christina would do something like that. As you watch them all laugh and tease, you wonder when they all got so mean and why you started letting them get away with it. 

“You said maybe. That’s, like, totally a yes!”

“Like it’s such a bad thing to have a crush on me?” 

Everyone quiets as you slowly turn around to find Eddie standing there, hands shoved in the pockets of his leather jacket. 

“Eddie, I…” you aren’t even sure what to say as he glares down at you. 

“I wouldn’t be caught dead hanging around you, Munson.” Christina’s voice makes you squeeze your eyes shut in frustrated embarrassment. “Even your parents couldn’t stand to stay around. Must be hard having a cultist son. Fucking embarrassing.”

The lot gets so quiet, you can hear the grinding of his teeth as he sets his jaw. He doesn’t even dignify her with a response, turning and walking away before anyone can see the red staining his cheeks. 

“Tina… that was major harsh.” One of the girls breaks the silence. 

“Oh, eat my shorts, Janice. Are we getting ready at my house or not?” 

Everyone seems to hesitate but Christina was captain of the team. No one was going to say no. Well, no one but you. 

“I’ve, um, got a thing. I’ll meet you guys at the game.” You glance over toward Eddie, watching as he harshly shoves his shoulder back to avoid one of his friends' hands. 

You shouldn’t go to the game, but you do.

Janice called you from Christina’s house, sounding hopeful. You promised to be there, despite your whole body screaming at you to just stay home. Janice promises the whole thing will blow over by Monday, and something else will come along. But it won’t just blow over with Eddie. You know that. He had looked so hurt when you turned around to face him. In all the years of getting bullied, that was the first time he showed anyone what their words did to him. And it was your fault. 

You had promised Janice you’d be there, but when you stand outside the gymnasium, you can’t make yourself go in. Can’t make yourself face who you thought were your friends. So, you walk down a path between the large building and the school and take out a key. The pool was somewhat separated, but you could still hear the muffled band playing when you entered the echoey room. You keep a spare swimsuit in your locker for this exact situation. The sport helped clear your mind and you needed to get rid of the image of Eddie’s broken look.

You swim even after the cheering and the band stops. You swim until you feel like your limbs are going to fall off, and even though you don’t want to, you shower off the chlorine. As you step out into the somewhat cool autumn air, a double door bursts open, and the kids that come spilling out make you stop. 

His little sheepies. Which means… 

Fuck. 

Eddie is the last one out, smile so wide you can’t help but wonder if it hurts. They all talk over each other, but Eddie just seems to watch over in pride. You take a step back into the shadows, hoping your bright multicolored windbreaker doesn’t give you away. 

“Hey!” Is that… Steve Harrington? “You guys were supposed to be done an hour ago.”

“The campaign ends when it ends, Steve!” One of them retorts back. 

“Yeah, well, I don’t have all night Henderson. Let’s go!” 

All three freshmen rush to Steve’s BMW and scramble inside. He and Eddie share a nod before he gets in and peels out of the lot, and you can still hear all of them shouting in excitement. The other three seniors exchange goodbyes before parting ways, but Eddie sticks behind. Neither of you move until all the cars are gone except for his van and yours. Why the fuck hasn’t he moved? 

“Is it just you?” Eddie finally speaks, turning toward your piss poor excuse of a hiding spot. “Or is the rest of the team waiting somewhere?”

“I’m- I’m alone.” It scares you once you realize you’re the only two on the property. Probably the only two within a few miles at this point. “Look, I’m really sorry about them. Christina especially. I don’t know when she got so…”

“Bitchy?”

That makes you breathe out a laugh, not realizing you were holding your breath. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

It’s quiet for a moment as he shifts his weight to his other leg, observing you and the whole situation. 

“Do you want to sit by the pool and talk?” It’s starting to feel pretty creepy outside, and the cold night wasn’t helping your wet hair.

“I thought it was locked after hours.” 

You hold up the bronze key, but offer up an explanation anyway. “My uncle is actually the coach. He got me into swimming competitively in the first place. Technically I’m not allowed to bring friends in but…”

“Good thing I’m not really a friend.” He walks past you and you’re a bit frozen in place, not believing he accepted. 

You’re nervous as you unlock the door once more and wave him inside like he would but you give an awkward curtsy. As he’s turning in a small circle to take in how the water reflects off the walls and ceiling, you slip off your shoes and roll up your jeans as far as you can go. He begins to do the same when he sees you sticking your feet in the water. 

“Jesus Chri-! That’s cold!” His voice bounces off the walls, and your laughter follows. 

“Well, yeah, most pools are.” You tuck your hands underneath your thighs and move your right leg around in small circles, disrupting the water. “Didn’t see you at the game.” 

“That kind of stuff is bullshit. Forced conformity.” Before he goes on a rant, he looks at the sly smile on your face, as if you were going to enjoy this topic of conversation. But he knew you’d react either of two ways if he kept on. Confused, or freaked out. So he leans back on his palms and tries to act casual. “And if I’m guessing right, you weren’t there either.”

“Didn’t feel like it.” You give a halfhearted shrug. “Christina really… what she said about your parents— I just don’t see her the same anymore. I don’t know how it happened, but she just got so mean, and everyone’s too scared to say anything because she's the captain. Sorry, I’m- ranting.”

“Christina wasn’t far off.” 

The admission bounces around as you look at him.

“Eddie…”

“It was forever ago.” He kicks the water, causing a small splash. “Aren’t you co-captain anyway?”

“Yeah? So?” You didn’t think he would know that, and it makes you feel all mushy inside that he knows something so simple about you. 

“So don’t you have us much say as her?”

“With her tyrannical rule? No way.” 

“No shame in running, but sometimes you gotta be the hero.”

“Yeah,” you scoff. “I’m sure getting to Mordor would be easier than standing up to Christina.” 

“You’ve read…?”

“No.” That’s a half lie. “Well, sorta. I haven’t gotten very far. I don’t know if it’s my thing, but you talk about it so much, I wanted to check out all the hype.”

Eddie looks taken aback, mouth hung open. 

“Is that what dungeons and dragons is?” You ask curiously, which seems to take him back even more. “I mean everybody says it’s bad, but it’s just nerd shit, right? Sorry, I didn’t mean—“

“It is nerd shit.” He straightens his back at the new topic of conversation. “All it is, is tabletop fantasy role play. Doesn’t have to be like Lord of the Rings. You could have a whole western fantasy campaign. Maybe even in space.” He’s ranting, and god does he know it, but you lean in instead of awkwardly looking away like everyone else does.

“Campaign…?” 

“Well, it’s…” Eddie thinks for a moment before explaining in the most simple of terms how a campaign works. You nod along, enthralled by every detail, even when he derails and starts rambling about character class and stats. He rambles on about their current campaign to help explain better, and he uses silly voices and moves animatedly. You laugh, but not at him. He continues to tease, loving your laugh and that you aren’t making fun of him. His arms flail a bit and he gives a few teasing nudges, but in his excitement he forgets his strength. 

“Wait, Eddie-!” You fall in the water, grabbing on to him in an attempt to stop, but end up pulling him down with you. The both of you come up spluttering, but you end up laughing at the mop of hair on his head. 

“Shit,” he laughs nervously. “It’s deep.”

“Wait. Can you swim?”

“Well, I’m no athlete, but yeah. I can swim.” 

“Well…” you swim forward, a sly smile creeping its way onto your face. “Might as well, right? We’re already in here. You’ll want your jacket off, though. It’s gonna be too much dead weight.”

“Right, I’ll uh…”

“Here, I’ll keep us afloat while you get it off.” 

Before he can understand what’s happening, you wrap your arms around his waist, your face entirely too close to his. With what little space you have, you can see freckles splashing across his face, and you chew on the inside of your cheek to keep your composure. He avoids eye contact as he struggles out of the leather, the tip of his tongue making a surprise appearance, before tossing the jacket aside and it lands with a loud wet slap. 

“Cool. Now good luck catching me!” You splash him a little harsher than you had intended, but you make a dash to escape.

“You’re gonna regret that!” 

You’re a lot better at swimming than he is, almost too fast to be caught, but you slow down after awhile on purpose. As his hand wraps around your ankle, making you squeal, you tell yourself you did it to not wear him out and frustrate him. That you didn’t want to anger him, as he’s pulling you into him and dunking both of you under water. You struggle against his arms, but he’s strong. You can feel the unexpected muscle against your hands, but he lets you go too soon and you both come up gasping for air. 

“Told ya.” water sprays a bit from his mouth as his chest heaves. 

“You cheated.” 

“I never cheat, sweetheart.” He wades toward you slowly, dropping down just until his mouth sinks into the water. 

“Eddie Munson, don’t you dare,” you warn but your tone is too light. “You dunk me again, I’ll- I’ll make sure you smell like chlorine for a week.” 

He doesn’t listen, and you swim backward until your back crashes into the tiled wall. The cold sends a shiver down your spine. Definitely not the way Eddie comes back up, water dripping from his chin and his arms blocking you in on either side of you. His eyes drop to your lips and you find yourself breathing heavily for a completely different reason, your chest brushing against his with every inhale. Neither of you make a move, just admiring every detail you can while breathing each other's air. Just when you think he might, a loud bang comes from one of the locker rooms, making you both jump and look around frantically. You find yourself gripping one of his forearms tightly in shock. 

“We should- we should probably get out.” No one else had access to the pool except your uncle, but you doubted he would come by at midnight. He trusted you to not fool around, and you really hadn’t let him down until now. “I swear the locker rooms are haunted.” 

Still, you don’t move until he does, and swim to the nearest ladder to get out. The only sound is the water from your clothes dripping on the floor, and suddenly you feel exhausted. Your clothes feel heavy as they cling to your skin. Without discussing it, you both start peeling your clothes off, slightly turned away to give each other privacy. As you’re wringing out your shirt, you can’t help but glance over your shoulder at Eddie, and catch the way his shoulder blades move while he does the same. His eyes catch yours and you smile sheepishly before turning back around. You’re both down to your underwear, unsure of how to proceed. 

“We should shower. Alone I mean. You can go to the boys’. There’s towels.” You speed walk away, too self conscious to hang around too long. 

“Wait!” He follows you quickly, careful not to slip. “You’re just gonna drop the fact that the locker rooms are haunted and then leave me alone to fend for myself?”

Your footsteps slow, and you let out a small huff because you know you know you’ll feel guilty until the end of time if you do that to him. 

“There’s going to be rules, Munson.”

“Oh, of course.” He agrees quietly.

“We go in at the same time and undress fully in our own shower. You’re not to come out until I have, and even then, you’re not to look anywhere but your own shower. When I say it’s okay, you can leave, got it?”

“I think you forgot the part about the towels.”

“Do not make me regret this.” 

You’ve never been so self conscious showering until now. Even with a zero percent chance of Eddie seeing you naked, you worry, but you also think about the fact that he’s in the same exact state you’re in right now. That somehow makes the whole thing feel way too intimate, and you can’t believe the first time you got to hang out with your -possible- crush, you both end up naked. If that basic, no detailed rumor got out, you’d surely die of embarrassment. Turning around, you place your face underneath the stream of water, trying so hard to not think about the small glimpse of his torso that you got. The dark patch of hair sneaking underneath his boxers that clung to his thighs from the water. 

“So, are you from Hawkins?” His voice brings you out of your wandering thoughts. You quickly turn the knob from hot to cold in hopes that it keeps you calm.

“My parents are.” Looking down, you watch the water swirl around at your feet. “My grandmother got sick and my uncle couldn’t take care of her by himself. So, we packed up and moved back here, but I can tell my parents are happy to be back home. It’s less demanding than the city.”

“The uncle being coach thing makes a lot more sense now.”

“Not a lot of people know actually.” You turn the water off completely, and wrap your arms around your torso self consciously. “I’m getting out now.”

It isn’t the easiest topic of conversation, but when she had first gotten sick two years ago, your mother went to stay with her for the three months she had been told she would live. When it was clear she was going to hang on longer than expected, they decided it would just be better to move permanently and the old lady was still sticking around. Despite being so sick, you liked hanging out with her most afternoons. Even if she forgot who you were.

You carefully walk out of the shower, towel wrapped around yourself tightly, and as you pass by the stall that Eddie is in, you catch a glimpse in the crack between the curtain and wall. All you manage to catch is the back of his head, arms extended upward to wash out whatever shampoo you’d let him borrow. He begins to turn and you look away with your cheeks burning. You attempt to dry your hair underneath one of the hand dryers, and it isn't long when Eddie comes out, damp boxers back on and using the towel you gave him to rub his hair dry. He pauses seeing you kneeled down, holding the towel to your chest so that nothing gets exposed and he realizes he forgot to wait for your okay, but you don’t seem to mind as you give a soft smile. 

“I’ll grab our clothes.” He says when the dryer finally turns off and leaves you to get somewhat decent. 

He’s suddenly so quiet as he hands over your clothes, no witty comment or joke as the two of you get dressed. All there is between you are stolen glances and nervous smiles. Once fully clothed again, you walk beside him, feeling a little stiff. Not from how your cold clothes stick to you, but from nerves. The soft lights from the pool make his face glow, and your stomach drops in the best way possible. He gets the door for you, and waits with his hands stuffed in his jacket as you lock up. The grass crunches underneath your footsteps, dry from the temperature and lack of rain. Neither of you speak, until you hit the parking lot, cars too far from each other to continue walking together.

“Were they right?” You ask before he gets a chance to escape, arms anxiously crossed over your chest. “My friends. ‘Cause if they were… I think I have one too.”

“Have what?”

Shit. You were too vague.

“A crush, dummy.” 

Realization dawns on his face as he absorbs your confession. He can’t believe it, and the worst smallest part of him thinks you’ve done this whole thing as a joke, and someone is going to pop out with a camera to capture how big of an idiot he’s been. All that happens is you chew on your bottom lip, anxiously waiting for an answer, and he's leaving your heart out in the open for too long. 

“Yes, yeah, they were right.” He watches how you smile and takes a mental image to last forever. “I’m not really quiet about anything.” 

“I just never expected…” you shake your head and look at your feet. “You. You’ve just so suddenly become this big thing in my life.” 

Eddie barely has to take a step to be close enough to take your face in his hands and lift your head up to pull you into a searing kiss. It’s so unexpected that you laugh in surprise against his lips, but he smiles at the sound. When you’ve settled down, you move your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, eager to feel his heartbeat slow to match the rhythm of your own. He kisses you so sweetly, you really do think he’s a gentleman. A quick slip of his tongue doesn’t change your mind either.

“If you don’t stop me,” he gets out between kisses. “We’ll be here all night sweetheart.”

“I like that idea,” you tease as his lips move along your jawline, and down your neck. Your eyelids flutter closed, and you focus on every feeling.

Eddie pulls back, showing some self restraint and you almost whine at the loss of contact.

“You’re gonna get a cold if you stay out here.”

“So will you!”

“I’m going to walk you to your car, and you’re going to go home and get all snuggled in bed, okay?” He traces your bottom lip with his thumb, the ghost of a smile ever present.

“Fine.”

Eddie takes your hand, intertwining your fingers together, and walks the short distance to your car. You make no move to enter, back pressed against the driver side door, and grab him by his jacket. He braces himself with one arm, looking down at you, his other hand stroking your cheek with the back of his pointer finger. The featherlight touch makes you shiver, and you find yourself getting lost in his almost pitch black eyes. Those eyes that are so beautiful and full of lashes, that a cow would be jealous. You pull him in for another kiss, arms wrapping underneath his jacket and around his small waist. He groans into your mouth, not wanting to leave if you were going to kiss him slowly like that.

“I’m personally thanking Christina on Monday.” He gives your knuckles a quick kiss before taking a few steps backwards, not wanting to look away, and turning for his own vehicle.

Christina’s head almost explodes when he does exactly that and plants a kiss on your lips in the cafeteria, but you just act innocent when you take his outstretched hand and move to sit with him at his table. It felt good, and it felt even better when you give her the finger when she wouldn’t stop staring.

[bellaxgiornata]

Seeking Forgiveness [Part Nine]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 4k [Series Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: 18+ contains angst, emotional hurt, delayed comfort, pregnant Reader, mentions/fear of miscarriage

a/n: Long time no update, I know. I was stalled with this fic because it wasn't supposed to be long, but then it grew into something bigger and needed a new direction and it took me a bit to figure that out. Now I think I've found it. Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

Matt’s fingers slowly ran over the braille document on the table before himself, his mind struggling to focus on the work he was supposed to be accomplishing right now. He'd promised Fog yesterday at the office that he'd help him sift through some more information for a case they'd been working on first thing in the morning, but his mind just couldn't stay on task. Repeatedly he'd had to run his fingers over the letters just to get a couple of them to form words in his mind, but then in mere seconds he'd forgotten what he'd just read.

But how could he focus on work right now with what he was doing later today? The only thing he could think about since the moment he’d woken up and shuffled out of his bedroom this morning was you. Because today was Saturday. It was the day you’d agreed to meet with him for that coffee where you’d planned to have an important conversation with him. And as much as Matt had tried not to let himself hope for too much to come from this talk, he couldn't stop that hope from growing inside of himself. It had been steadily growing brighter and brighter ever since you’d first agreed to meet the other night. 

As his fingers traced the braille letters of the same line on the page yet again, Matt could feel the weight of Foggy’s eyes on him from across his kitchen table. He could tell Foggy had begun to notice his behavior, his increasing annoyance becoming apparent in the way his fingers had been steadily tapping faster against the table in less of an absent fidget and more of an agitated rhythm.

Once more Matt tried to read the line again, retracing his fingers over it as he leaned further over the document, as if getting closer to it would somehow help him to concentrate. But then he found his mind once more diverting from its task, instead thinking of himself sitting with you over coffee in only a matter of hours. Because soon he'd actually be talking to you, hearing your voice again, possibly even the sound of your laughter that he so sorely missed. And if he was lucky, maybe you'd let him hold you in his arms again, even if it was just to say goodbye.

“Alright,” Foggy said in exasperation, slumping back in his chair. “What is it that's got you so distracted? Because I've been here for almost a half an hour now and you haven't even read the page that's been sitting in front of you for just as long. Is it some Daredevil thing that's on your mind? Because buddy, that can wait until later tonight. We have actual legal work to accomplish right now.”

Matt released a defeated sigh, sitting back in his chair and pushing the document away from himself as his attention shifted over to Foggy. He felt guilty for not being able to focus on work–a problem he'd truly struggled with for far longer than just this morning if he was being honest. Ever since he'd learned you were pregnant his mind was often elsewhere.

“It’s nothing to do with that. It's just–I'm meeting with her this morning. To talk over coffee,” Matt told him. 

Foggy suddenly sat up straight in his chair, the annoyance in his body language immediately disappearing. He said your name in question, the tone of it hopeful.

“Yeah,” Matt acknowledged with a nod. “She agreed to talk and that's all I can focus on. I'm sorry, Fog. I just–just can't think about anything else because I don't want to mess this up with her. I doubt she'll give me another chance to sit down with her.”

“I don't know man,” Foggy disagreed. “I think she wants things to work between you both. From what I hear, it sounds like she's just scared.”

Matt pulled a face, his head canting to the side. “Scared?” he repeated. “Scared of what?”

“Of things not working out between you both,” Foggy answered. “I think you both really want the same things. And from what I’ve heard, I think she’s scared you might hurt her again.”

Matt frowned as he shifted his attention away from Foggy, his right hand reaching up to messily run through his hair. He wasn't certain of the truth in everything Foggy had just said. Matt had a feeling that he wanted far more from you than you wanted from him. And that scared him . But he absolutely refused to ever be in a situation to let you down again. He’d learned from his mistake–he would never break a promise to you again.

“So what exactly are you both planning to talk about this morning?” Foggy questioned. “Just the baby? Or…is there talk about you two getting back together?”

Matt's hand ran another pass through his hair in nervous frustration. Of course that's one of the things he’d wanted to discuss with you, but he was certain that particular topic wasn't even on the agenda for this morning. It probably wasn’t even remotely on your mind. It didn’t matter if you’d asked him to hold you in your bed the other night after the scare you’d had because he’d known exactly what that had meant. He was just happy that at the very least, you found his presence comforting still.

“I think we're just talking about me being more involved with the baby,” he answered. “That’s all the talk is about. And don't get me wrong, I'm happy we're even discussing that after the mess I made of things over the past few months. Because I do want to be more involved in things with her and our daughter even if she hasn’t been born yet. But I…”

Matt trailed off, the frown deepening on his lips as his focus dropped down towards the table. He heard Foggy lean forward, resting his elbows along the surface of it as his pulse accelerated in anticipation.

“But what?” he pushed.

Licking his lips nervously, Matt's eyes slowly closed. “I want more,” he admitted aloud. “And I know after how I messed things up that I don't deserve it with her. She's far too good for me, Fog. I get it. But I still want it.”

“Want what, exactly?” he asked. “The relationship?”

“Yes,” Matt answered immediately. “And I still want her to move in with me like we had been planning before everything fell apart and she found out she was pregnant,” Matt confessed, finally bearing his heart to Foggy. “I want her here . I want to set up the crib in our room that’ll be our daughter’s bed. I want them all in that room,” Matt said, gesturing behind Foggy to his bedroom, “where I can sleep next to both of them every single night. Knowing they're both safe with me. And I want to make space in the closet and the dresser for both of their things. I want to accidentally pull out baby pajamas instead of a tie in the mornings.” A sad smile tugged at Matt’s lips as he imagined everything in his mind while he spoke. “I want her to keep that growing stockpile of diaper boxes in her apartment right over there,” he continued, gesturing a hand towards the closet past his couch where he kept his Daredevil suit. “And I want to wake up and make coffee to the sound of a baby babbling.”

Tears were beginning to sting at Matt’s eyes as a flood of emotion began to well inside of him. He'd never realized quite how much he had been wanting until he’d suddenly given voice to it.

“I just want her to be here so that I can make her breakfast in the morning and dinner in the evening,” he continued softly. “I want her here so I can rub her back when she's throwing up or her feet when they're sore after work. I just–”

He paused, wincing. He found himself wanting so much that he never realized he'd even wanted until you had come into his life. But how would he ever be able to have any of that? After how he'd ended things with you and walked out on you when you'd begged him to stay? How did he get you to still move in with him? Let him be a part of your life again? Trust him again?

“I just want it all,” he whispered, fighting back the burn of tears. “But that's not what this talk is about today, and I understand that.”

“You could still tell her,” Foggy suggested gently. “You could still let her know how you feel, Matt. Be open with her about your feelings.”

Matt shook his head, his heart feeling leaden in his chest. “No,” he told him. “I think that's the last thing she wants to hear right now. I can't push my luck, Fog. Maybe someday I can tell her all of that, but I don't think today is that day.”

“I don't know, man,” Foggy countered.

“I can't ask for too much when I don't deserve it,” Matt said. “She needs to know I'm serious first, so that's my focus. I'll take whatever she gives me and show her that I mean it when I say I want to be a part of things. That I’ll really be there when she needs me.”

“For the record, I don’t exactly agree with that route,” Foggy told him. “But if you think telling her how you feel will somehow push her away instead of bring her closer, then I’m not about to argue because you’re obviously not going to listen. I’m just happy to hear that you’re both sitting down together to talk finally. We’re all rooting for the both of you to figure this all out, Matt.”

Matt’s attention focused on Foggy across the table from him. He heard the truth in his words with how steady his heartbeat had been. It felt good to know at least his friends believed in him. But he knew it would feel amazing to finally have you believe in him again, too.

You didn’t have to search hard to find Matt. He’d sent you a text when you’d left your apartment and made your way to the coffee shop letting you know that he’d already arrived early and grabbed a table. And now there he was, sitting in a corner booth with a coffee in front of himself and another across the table from him. A wave of nerves hit you at the sight of him in his dark jeans and snug-fitting gray shirt, your stomach twisting anxiously as the reality of sitting down with him actually hit you. It had been so long since you’d both really sat down together to talk; the only other time had been earlier this week on the night he’d shown up at your apartment because he’d heard your panic. But that had been under entirely different circumstances than this. 

Matt’s head instantly spun in your direction as the door to the shop shut behind you. You figured he’d probably picked up on your strong reaction to seeing him, and that only increased the nerves running loose in your stomach. Beginning to make your way over towards the corner booth where he sat, his covered gaze focused on you, you chewed your bottom lip while awkwardly maneuvering your small bump between the tables and chairs. Briefly you were reminded of your third date at this very coffee shop with Matt. The memory of it had you longing to be able to slide into the booth beside him and wrap your arms around him now, desperate for some of his strength to transfer to you. 

“Hey, Matt,” you greeted lightly, slowly sliding into the bench across from him. “I hope you weren’t waiting too long on me.”

A timid smile spread over his lips as he shook his head. “Not at all. Though I already ordered you a coffee.” His hand gestured to the cup now in front of you. “Vanilla latte, iced. I hope that’s okay. If not, I can grab you something else.”

“No,” you said, a nervous smile forming on your own lips as you shook your head, getting comfortable in the booth. “It’s perfect, actually. Thank you. I’ve been on an iced vanilla latte kick for weeks now.”

The smile on Matt’s mouth turned sheepish as you reached out and picked up the ice cold cup. You drank down a sip of the coffee, reveling in how good it tasted as you watched Matt’s hand awkwardly scratch at the back of his neck.

“So I’ve heard,” he said. “Karen mentioned that the other day actually. I figured it would be a safe bet.”

“Oh,” you said. “That makes sense then.”

Lowering the cup back to the table, you shifted anxiously in your seat. Normally things had never been this tense between you and Matt, but you weren’t certain how to navigate whatever the pair of you were now. You weren’t entirely sure how to just be around him anymore, especially not while currently carrying his child.

“So how’re things at the office?” you asked him.

“Good,” Matt answered. “Busy. There’s a handful of cases that we’re working on and I think we’re all realizing we may have overextended ourselves, but we’ll figure it out.”

You nodded, your finger toying with the condensation on the outside of your plastic cup. “That’s good. How’s uh–” you paused, not certain you were allowed to be asking him something so personal, but the question had already started to come out before you could stop it, “–how’re things going at night? With, well, you know…?”

Matt sent you a small smile, his covered gaze focused on you from across the table. Your eyes dropped back down to your coffee cup, your heart beating a little harder. You forgot the effect he had on you, but with him sitting right there after months apart, you couldn’t entirely ignore it now. 

You missed him.

“Also good,” he answered. “Not quite so busy, but still…busy.”

“Right,” you muttered awkwardly.

How the hell were you supposed to talk about the baby growing inside of you when you could barely look at him to discuss normal pleasantries? It felt so wrong being so awkward with him as you sat across the table. You found yourself struggling with this meeting more than you’d anticipated, wishing things just felt like they used to be between you both.

“How’re you doing?” Matt asked softly.

The gentle tone had caught you off guard, your gaze flitting back up towards his face. He looked just as nervous as you felt. And Matthew Murdock didn’t generally get nervous.

“Do you want the polite response I usually give people?” you half-joked. “Or do you want the honest answer to that question?”

“The honest one,” he replied.

“Well,” you began, your gaze dropping back down to your coffee cup, “I’m tired all the time. I’ve probably finally reached your level of tired.” 

You paused, smiling down at your cup when you heard him laugh lightly across the table from you. The sound had a warm, pleasant sensation gradually settling in your stomach.

“I almost always have a headache I can never seem to get rid of,” you continued. “I’m guessing that’s something to do with the hormones and increased blood flow. And I feel like my lower back has a personal vendetta against me as of late.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, amusement in his tone. “How’s the nausea?”

You shrugged a shoulder, your eyes once more returning to his face. Internally you cursed him for being so handsome. It only made you long to grab him and kiss him like you used to be able to. Clearing your throat, you tried to ignore that thought.

“Better,” you answered. “Not magically gone like I somehow assumed it would be once I got out of the first trimester, but I don’t want to vomit all the time. Though uh–” 

You paused as a grin spread over your mouth, noticing how it was quickly mirrored on Matt’s face as his head tilted curiously to the side. That flutter of warmth in your stomach felt like it was steadily heating you from the inside at the sight of it.

“What?” he pressed curiously.

“So when you’re pregnant,” you began, the grin remaining on your lips, “your sense of smell heightens. Also because of the hormones, I assume. But I’d wanted to tell you about that little symptom the moment I started experiencing it because I figured if anyone else would understand how gross passing a dumpster smells, it’d be you.”

“You’re certainly not wrong,” he agreed with a chuckle.

“And that symptom hasn’t exactly disappeared yet,” you told him, your grin having grown into a smile. “So some things still make me want to puke. Particularly the smell of bell peppers for some unknown reason.”

“Duly noted. I’ll make sure not to bring any near you,” Matt teased. “But I’ve read that ginger helps–”

You raised a hand, cutting him off and shaking your head as you pulled a face. Matt’s brows furrowed beneath his dark lenses, his mouth suddenly closing.

“Sorry,” you said, your stomach churning. “It’s just that I tried using those hard candies they make for morning sickness so much that the ‘g’ word now makes me immediately want to puke. They’ve had the reverse effect on me.”

“Oh,” he breathed out, the smile falling from his lips. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

“That’s alright,” you assured him, picking up the cup of coffee from in front of you again. “I didn’t expect you to.”

That uncomfortable, awkward silence fell over the pair of you again. You took a sip from your cup, watching as Matt’s left hand on the table began anxiously tapping along it. Swallowing down your drink, you supposed you should probably discuss the real reason you were both here.

“So uh,” you began, clearing your throat as you set the coffee cup back onto the table, “we should probably talk about the baby.”

Matt nodded, a tense smile now drawing itself across his lips. As if he was nervous about this topic of conversation.

“You were saying the other night that you wanted to be more involved?” you asked. 

“Yes,” he answered earnestly. “If that’s alright with you, of course. I know she’s not exactly here yet, but I’d like to be as a part of things as I can be.”

Eyes dropping back down to your coffee cup, your index finger smeared a drop of condensation along the side of it. There was a heaviness in the air between you both, one you didn’t need Matt’s senses to detect.

“How involved?” you asked softly. “You want updates if something is going on or…do you want to actually attend appointments with me?”

Matt perked up in the booth across from you, the movement drawing your attention back over to him. He was sitting a little straighter now, something hopeful written across the features of his face even with his glasses on. 

“Would that be alright?” he asked. “If I wanted to go to some of your appointments with you?”

“I suppose so,” you answered slowly. “But I don’t know how interesting they’d be for you. Unlike the rest of us, you don’t need technology to hear her heartbeat. I’m assuming you’ve already been listening to her since I got here.”

Another sheepish smile slipped onto his lips. “You wouldn’t be wrong,” he admitted. “I’ve grown quite fond of the sound of her heartbeat. Especially hearing it beating so close to your own.”

A flush crept up your neck, your gaze dropping back down to your coffee as one hand nervously began spinning your cup on the table. You hadn’t expected him to tell you that, or for how it made you feel. 

“I have an appointment in a couple of weeks,” you told him, trying to ignore the heat in your cheeks. “I can let you know the details when it gets closer if you’d like to come with me.”

“I’d like that,” he replied. “A lot, actually.”

Nervously gnawing on your bottom lip, your gaze still averted from him, you weren’t sure how to broach the next thing you’d considered bringing up. Matt had wanted to be more involved, but how much more did he truly mean? 

“So you also said that you wanted to be around when I didn’t necessarily need you,” you began carefully, your eyes slowly drawing back up to his face. “What’d you mean by that exactly?”

You saw the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, his finger tapping faster atop the table. His other hand reached up to readjust his glasses along the bridge of his nose before he spoke.

“I know we’re not together,” he answered slowly, “but I’d like to spend time together. With both of you. If that’s okay? Not–not all the time. Like I said, I know we’re not together and I’m not going to delude myself into thinking things are other than what they are right now. But I’d like to help you out if I could. Cooking or cleaning occasionally so you can just rest. Grabbing groceries if you need. Anything like that.”

“You…really want that?” you asked, eyes narrowing curiously. “Especially with how busy you are?”

“I want to help,” he assured you.

You nodded slowly, aware that having him around you more often would only make you miss him more. But if things were ever going to progress back to how they once were between you two, you figured this was a good first step to reaching that.

“Okay,” you whispered.

His dark brows jumped up onto his forehead in surprise. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you answered. “If we’re going to figure this parenting thing out together, I suppose we should start figuring it out before she’s born. Right? It only makes sense.”

A broad smile broke out across Matt’s face immediately. The sight of it nearly blinded you with how happy he’d suddenly looked. 

“You mean that?” he asked. “About doing this together–raising her together? Do you really mean that?”

“With how much you clearly seem to want to be a part of this,” you told him, “it seems cruel not to try to see if things can work out. So yeah. I think we should focus on taking small steps towards that and see if things can actually work out eventually so we aren’t just…co-parenting.”

There was a faint tremble to his lips that you’d just barely caught despite that beaming smile on his face. The sight instantly reminded you of the other night when he’d asked for permission to feel your baby bump. He’d gotten so emotional the moment he’d felt your daughter move and experiencing that with him had felt special in a way that you couldn’t exactly describe. You just knew that after that moment, you didn’t want to keep any more of those experiences from him. Not if he was truly going to give you and your daughter all of himself.

“Plus, I could use help thinking of a name,” you added with a small smile. “She’s not just mine, after all.”

Matt sniffled softly, his lips still faintly trembling. He almost seemed to be on the verge of crying, and you wondered if he wasn’t wearing the glasses right now, if you’d have seen his eyes rimmed in red and filled with tears.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his hand sliding across the table towards you. “For giving me this chance despite everything.”

Your eyes dropped down to his outstretched hand, studying it for a moment. You knew what that hand meant beyond the obvious gesture. Hesitantly your right hand released your coffee cup and slowly slid across the table towards Matt’s. Carefully you wrapped your fingers around his, your heart beating a little faster when his gripped yours in return.

“She deserves both of us,” you whispered. “As long as we can find a way to make this work.”

Tag List: @mattmurdocksstarlight @just-going-through-the-motions @paracosmic-murdock @yeonalie @auroraslibrary @1988-fiend @will-delete-this-later-probably @two-unbeatable-beaters @danzer8705 @ragamuffin285 @callmebrooklynbabes @spookyboogyuniverse @peachy-aisha @stevenknightmarc @nerdytreeflower @fucktthisworld @remuslupinwifee @kmc1989 @thychuvaluswife @mywellspringoflife @thornbushrose @yarrystyleeza @shiorimakibawrites @marvelcinematiquniverse @vallovesthedilfs @scoliobean @this-is-music @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations @swissy23 @babygorewhore @that-girl-named-alex @warsaur @lareinaisabelle @pazii @senjoritanana @mischiefmanaged71511-blog @xxdrixx @jess-rye @hannahbohen @theclassicvinyldragon @karolamurdock @theoraekenslover @mr-underhills-things @jennifer0305 @capswife @amazexng @blackhawkfanatic @ladywholikesreading @powellssaturn @sunflower-tia @indestructeible  @allllium @gamingfeline @kezibear @vallovesthedilfs @the-skys-musical-echo @justanerd1 @better305 @n3versatisfied @scriptedmoon @loves0phelia @roxytheimmortal

[prodbyton]

movie date ☆ l.sh

🎀cw.making out in public, inappropriate touching. 18+ mdni

boyfriend!sohee who takes you on a movie date, but you two barely get through 30 minutes before the thought of the movie is long forgotten.

“come sit with me,” sohee touches your thigh, feeling as if there was too much distance between you two. you re adjust your seat so you could get up, leaving your purse and sweater in the seat while you switch to the chair your boyfriend was on. it was a tight fit, but it was manageable and you quickly got comfortable. he holds you close, arm wrapped around your shoulders while the other rests in his lap, munching on the candies he bought at the snack station. he feeds them to you, holding the candy up to your lips and you open your mouth for him to place it between your teeth and on your tongue.

he wishes it wasn’t so dark, because he wanted to see you. all he could see was a half of your face, your lips shiny from your lip gloss, so kissable. you were focused on the movie that was finally starting, not noticing how your boyfriend was focused on you and not the movie.

there was a couple on screen, you thought they were so cute with how they doted on each other. you let out a cute that is so us, pointing at the couple on screen and looking at your boyfriend. he smiles at you, thinking you were adorable.

“we’re cuter though” he responds, leaving a small kiss on your cheek.

“of course”

sohee shifts his body a bit, his arm that's around your shoulder pulling you closer into him. he whispers your name, and you hum in response, not wanting to be louder than necessary so you don't draw attention from anyone in the theater.

sohee had you two sitting in the back, and conveniently there wasn't anyone else in the row. to be honest, there were only about 8 other people in the theater, all spread out in the lower levels.

his free hand goes up to your chin, lifting your head and tilting it slightly so he could kiss you. it was a quick kiss, his lips leaving yours before you could fully process. he chuckled at the stunned look on your face, lips parted, as if he had just kissed the breath out of you with just one kiss.

"what was that for?" you giggle, trying you analyze his expression despite it being dark.

"you're just cute. wanted to kiss you" he shrugs, and you turn back to focus back on the movie. it only lasts a second though, because sohee is grabbing you by your chin again and pulling you in for another kiss. this time it was slow, giving you time to kiss him back before he was bringing the hand on your chin to rest on the side of your jaw, holding you in place.

his tongue slides across your bottom lip and you let him in, both of your tongues colliding. he holds you tight, pressing his face deeper into yours as he kisses you. it was desperate, and sloppy. you bite his lip, before kissing the flesh and slipping your tongue into his mouth. the hand that was on your jaw moving down to your throat, then down to your chest. he squeezes your boobs through your shirt, loving the the little gasp that leaves your lips.

your hand moves to rest on his thigh, the other moving to where his hand was groping you, keeping his hands there while you sucked on his tongue softly. your hand traveled up his thigh some more, ghosting over his growing bulge. he groans into your mouth, hand on your boob squeezing harder.

things were getting heated, and you forgot you two were in public for a moment. sohee was completely lost in you, not letting you pull away for a break, just letting you breathe heavily into his mouth in between kisses. you were almost brought back to your senses when his hand moved down past your waist and between your shut thighs, dangerously close to your core, that was undeniably soaking wet.

it was easy to become in your own world when you're with sohee, the way he makes your brain fog up whenever you two are together, especially in moments like this, when his hand is adding a delicious pressure to your core without giving you any real release, that makes you delirious. you bite his lip again, holding back a moan at the pressure. your own hand squeezing his cock through his jeans and he has to stop himself from moaning out loud.

you two were barely kissing anymore, tongue in each others mouths moving around at no real rhythm. it's when his fingers tease the hem of your pants that you come to your senses, that you two were in a movie theater, with other people around, and security cameras. you pull away from his mouth, trail of saliva connecting you two as he chases your lips.

with hooded eyes you look at him, his eyes glossed over and his lips swollen. you take your hand off his dick and use it to take his hand away from your pants, and he gives you a look that resembles a hurt dog.

"not here," you hold his hand in yours, and he nods in agreement. the both of you would rather not get in trouble with the law for attempting to fuck right now, despite how needy you were.

the two of you quickly collect yourselves as much as possible, making sure you didn't look suspicious when you left the theater and made your way to exit the building.

you two might not have watched a movie that night, but a movie was definitely made :)

may or may not be based on real events... thought it was fitting bc i feel like sohee would love super sloppy makeout sessions 🫣🤭

[cityofmeliora]

notes on Primo's characterization 💖

let's talk about Primo! i think he's a really, really interesting character!

i've said before that i think Primo is the only one of the brothers who takes the whole ~satanic death cult trying to bring the end of the world~ thing seriously.

Primo was indeed very serious about the cult. maybe too serious? even some other members of the cult dislike that about him.

NAMELESS GHOUL: The first Papa Emeritus was someone very rigid, very strict, and very solemn. A real son of a bitch! (laughs) To be honest, we don’t miss him at all! MyRock #44 (2017) translated from French by @ a-wandering-ghoulette)

the best source of Primo characterization is a 2010 interview with Sweden Rock Magazine where Primo and the Nameless Ghouls kidnapped the interviewer. though i quote *a lot* of it here, i strongly recommend reading the full interview because it is truly fascinating. notably, Primo himself speaks in this interview rather than a Nameless Ghoul.

Primo is a misanthrope who believes humans are "vermin" that have doomed themselves due to their "intellectual decline". in his eyes, they are unworthy of life and will eventually be destroyed.

“Human beings are vermin, thus the end of humanity is ultimately a good thing. We play but a vanishingly microscopic role in this cosmos of nothingness.”

The devil-worshipping organization that the Ghost leader speaks of is claimed to operate on a worldwide level and among many different areas: from politics and business to religious movements, in the entertainment industry and on the street. It does not have a name, but its existence “can most easily be explained as a living and ongoing result of humanity’s intellectual decline and eventual decay.”

Primo affirms Ghost's mission statement as originally presented in the band's old Myspace page: to spread the devil's influence and convince other people that humanity deserves its inevitable end.

According to the statement on the band’s page, Ghost’s main mission is to trick mankind into believing that the end of the world is ultimately a good thing. “Our only task is to accompany the world’s downfall.”

A question comes to mind: wouldn’t the band, which with its poppy hard rock could by all means appeal to a much wider audience than ordinary black metal acts, gain more attention by engaging in more commercial modes of expression? “We have other entertainment groups within our organization who are doing just that. Our task is to emphasize the devil’s message in the part of society that has, to varying degrees, already accepted it. It’s directed at the social grouping that goes to the type of concerts that we perform. Our goal is to be able to carry out our black mass, our ritual, for them. Other members of the cult work with far more subtle modes of expressions, better suited for consumers who are not as receptive to the truth.”

though he openly calls the organization a cult, his religious belief is sincere.

to Primo, the band's anonymity and use of costumes are a way of showing reverence and humility in their task. if Satan is the Father, and Antichrist is the Son, the band is the (unholy) Ghost: the force which connects humanity to the power of the Father and the Son. for the audience to think of Primo or the Nameless Ghouls as individual people would distract from their message. when he takes on the role of Papa, he becomes one with their cause.

You refer to yourselves as a group of nameless spirits - should this be taken literally? Is the band actually something other than human? “To make it easier for mortals to deal with the fact that we, as individuals, have no significance in this experience, we have chosen to act as ghosts - hollow and diffuse.”

Why did you, as a leader, choose an outfit so similar to the one worn by the Catholic Pope? “For the Pope it is a way of showing reverence and seriousness, and at the same time humility before his task. He uses it to step into the body that is the essence and the fog, something we advocate too. It is our way of becoming one with the fog.” Things become clearer when the leader speaks of the meaning behind the name of the band: “Akin to the tripartite view so stubbornly proclaimed by the Christian faith, we too believe there is magic in the concept of three and we are part of it: there is a god, Satan, a son, Antichrist, and a ghost in the middle that is the inexplicable - the fog.”

Primo has a theistic view of Satan, believing he is real deity who speaks through / inspires the band's music. in this way, the Ghoul Writer could be considered a sort of prophet to him.

That’s right. Ghost have their music written for them. In one online interview, a so-called “ghoul writer” is mentioned who supposedly composes melodies and lyrics with the help of ungraspable powers from beyond – devilish whispers instruct him which words should accompany which chords, and so forth. “There is indeed a human individual who composes patterns of tones and words which operate ever so beautifully in unison. However, I am of the belief that there is a higher being who speaks through this individual,” asserts the Pope.

like a proper cultist, Primo cannot imagine having a life / identity outside of the cult. he remembers that there was once a time when he was not a member of the cult, but he cannot remember what it was like to be that person. his devotion to the cult has been a core part of who he is for a very long time.

How he got involved in this movement and dedicated his life to Satan, he has a hard time answering. After a long silence, the singer says: “I find it very difficult to remember the life I had before I found the darkness. It is therefore very difficult to answer your question. My memory doesn’t go that far.” Surely the Pope must remember something?           “I cannot remember a time when I did not find myself part of the dark energy. That does not mean that I remember nothing from my past life, only that I cannot remember how I felt then. This is because it was a time when I did not know very much.” Was it by coming into contact with other members of the organization that you found this darkness? “As I said, I do not remember when this happened. But I think…” He chooses his words carefully. “… I believe that, like many others, I was woven into this dark through subtle, human components found within it. Once again, my intellect was not as developed as it is now, so I have great difficulty in explaining what happened - when and where, and to what extent.”

while he cannot say exactly what happened to him or when, Primo seems to have had genuine spiritual experiences. he was always connected to the dark energy, and he feels that he became awakened and that his intellect has developed since he truly found his faith.

despite being a misanthrope, Primo admits he was brought into the darkness by some sort of human connection. he might actually have the capacity to care about some people.

in a Kerrang feature where Primo gets quizzed on "demonology, serial killers and stuff like that", he says the cult knew witches who were burned at the stake, but he doesn't like to talk about it. it stood out to me that he says he doesn't want to talk about it, because he speaks so openly and matter-of-factly about other dark / upsetting topics. at the very least, it appears he doesn't like it when bad things happen to other members of the cult.

WHAT DOES THE PHRASE MALLEUS MALEFICARUM TRANSLATE AS IN ENGLISH? A) HAMMER OF THE WITCHES B) HAMMER OF THE DEMONS C) HAMMER OF THE GODS PAPA: “That would be the witch-hammer. We knew some Witches, but unfortunately a lot of them were taken away.” KERRANG!: “As in burned at the stake?” PAPA: “Correct. But I don’t like to talk about that. (Answer: A) ✔

he seems to be quite pleased about other people dying, though. and he is certain they all go to Hell.

6. NAME ANY TWO OF THE THREE ORIGINAL MEMBERS OF MAYHEM. PAPA: “Though one was not an original member two of the band are actually burning in Hell, and they’re good guests, certainly. But yes, I will say Euronymous and Necrobutcher.” (Answer: Euronymous, Necrobutcherr, Manheim) ✔ 7. WHAT WAS THE NAME OF THE SHIP THAT WAS DISCOVERED FLOATING ABANDONED AND UNMANNED IN THE ATLANTIC OCEAN IN DECEMBER 1872? PAPA: “It was that ship with such a heavenly name, the lady Mary Celeste.” KERRANG!: “And can you finally tell us where all the people went?” PAPA: I’ll check the records. Obviously they’re all in Hell now, but the way they got there is a little cloudy. But then our Lord too works in mysterious ways…“ (Answer: Mary Celeste) ✔

some of Primo's other responses in this article reveal he has a dark sense of humor and perhaps cruel inclinations. when talking about possessions done by the cult, he says "sometimes you just want to do it for the hell of it" and "you want to make a bit of sport out of it", referring to a possession that (allegedly) influenced a serial killer. he refers to the victims of these possessions as "poor [name]", but his remarks on their misfortune don't indicate any actual remorse or sympathy. it might even be intentionally ironic.

5. WHICH PAINTER ALLEGEDLY UNDERWENT AN EXORCISM IN 1947? PAPA: “Poor Salvador Dali. You know we had his missus possessed as well, all in the name of Satan…” KERRANG!: Is possession something that’s done for serious reasons or just to pass the time? “Well sometimes you just want to do it for the hell of it…”  (Answer: Salvador Dali) ✔

13. WHAT AMERICAN SERIAL KILLER CLAIMS HE WAS COMPELLED TO COMMIT HIS MURDERS BY A DEMON THAT POSSESSED HIS NEIGHBOUR’S DOG? PAPA: 'That was that poor boy, the Son Of Sam. That sure was a successful possession, although it did involve far too much crotch-sniffing and turd-eating.“ KERRANG: "Is it easier to possess a dog than to possess a person?” PAPA: “Not necessarily, but you want to make a bit of sport out of it.” (Answer: David Berkowitz/Son Of Sam) ✔

also, many of the events Primo speaks about would've happened before he was born or when he was very young, so it seems he's studied the cult's history very well, and he keeps tabs on their current activities. he does his research!

and as a fun fact: Primo is pretty good at math :)

14. IF YOU’RE TRICK OR TREATING AND THREE HOUSES GIVE YOU SEVEN SWEETS, TWO GIVE YOU FOUR, AND ONE GIVES YOU NINE, AND YOUR PARENTS THEN DOUBLE WHAT YOU HAVE, HOW MANY SWEETS DO YOU END UP WITH? PAPA: “76.” KERRANG!: “That was alarmingly fast, sir. Are good mathematical skills important when you’re burning in the fiery pits of Hell?” PAPA: “We all have our different strengths, but of course the number we are most used to is 666…” (Answer: 76) ✔

there's not a lot of information about Primo, and what exists is hard to find, but i live to bring knowledge to the people 🫡. these are all the sources i have on hand that talk about Primo. if anyone else has other articles / videos talking about Primo, i'd really appreciate it if you shared them!

[sorchathered]

Break my heart again 🖤

Pairing- Jake “Hangman” Seresin x reader

Warnings- language, angst, Jake being an idiot, Bradley being a douchebag

Summary- Jake broke your heart and regrets it more than he can say, what happens when he sees you again but you’ve moved on? Or have you?

Jake Seresin could be a real son of a bitch. He knew it, everyone around him knew it, and after he broke your heart that rainy September night you knew it too. It played out like a bad romcom, “it’s not you it’s me, I’m just not ready to commit” all the pathetic vague bullshit that really just meant that he wanted to be able to be single and hang out with the boys instead of being “tied down” to you. It hurt, especially when it felt like it came out of nowhere. You had been thinking of forever, and apparently he’d been looking for an escape route. So you did what any heartbroken girl would do, got a new look, drank too much with the girls and blocked him from every social media you could.

That was nearly 4 years and two duty stations ago, all of Jake’s drinking buddies had grown up and had families, and now he was on the outside looking in a very different window. Longing for something he should have held on to, knowing it was too little too late.

He’d been back in California for almost a month, the special detachment had become permanent and it looked like the Dagger Squad was here to stay. He was in his own head while everyone headed out for the day, Coyote finally breaking him from his trance with his suggestion to meet everyone at the Hard Deck for dinner and drinks, a couple of the guys' families had made the move to Miramar and it would be a full house. Jake agreed, still in a fog but at least pretending to be interested in the prospect of meeting everyone.

Every night at the bar seemed to go the same these days, he’d drink a few beers, beat the brakes off everyone in darts, and take some pretty girl home only to kick her out in the morning. It was getting sad if he was honest, he hadn’t planned to be nearly 35 and alone, he figured he’d have a wife and at least a kid by now, he was tired of feeling sorry for himself. He needed to stop this endless cycle of bachelorhood, something had to change. He grabbed his beer from Penny and made his way to the pool tables, jolted from his pity party by the sound of the prettiest laugh he’d ever heard. He knew that laugh, hell it had haunted him for far too long. His eyes scanned the area, frantically searching for the face it belonged to, when there you were. Long hair in loose waves down your back, in a red sundress that could make a supermodel jealous, and your arms wrapped around none other than Bradley Bradshaw himself.

It was like all the air had been sucked out of the room, it was too hot and too loud, Jake felt like his skin was suddenly too tight for his body and he couldn’t seem to school his face to at least look normal. Javy’s wife Britt caught on that something was off, Jake was standing at the entrance of the pool area with his eyes wide and mouth gaping, so she kicked her husbands foot and ushered him to figure out what had his friend so shaken up.

But when he looked at Jake’s field of vision he knew, Bradshaw’s girl had looked familiar when they’d walked in but he couldn’t place her until now. He’d known you were Jake’s biggest regret, and he imagined seeing you in the arms of his biggest rival, probably stung like a bitch. He calmly made his way over, grasping his friend by the elbow and pivoting him towards the side exit, the night air would help, and maybe he could get him to spill his guts in the process.

Fuck this was a nightmare, he’d been thinking of you more and more lately these days, and seeing you in Rooster’s arms was enough to make him nearly throw up the contents of his stomach. He’d never felt this unsure of himself in his life and this was the final nail in the coffin. Coyote was worried, Hangman was never off his game, always the most cocksure bastard you’d ever met whether it be in the air or on the ground but this version of him was someone he’d never seen.

“Man come on, you gotta level with me. Was that y/n back there? I know that’s a sucker punch Seresin but you can’t let this drown you, it’s been what? Almost 4 years? You can’t seriously still be hung up on this” he shook his head in disbelief, his best friend had a wild reputation as a Casanova but somehow 30 seconds around this one girl had knocked him to his knees.

“She was everything. Everything you could hope for if you wanted to start a real lasting relationship and I tanked it before we even had a chance. I wanted to fuck around and sow my oats, what the fuck did that even do for me?! I’ve got nothing at home to keep my going, no one to miss me when I’m gone, and now she’s with fucking Bradshaw? Jesus. I don’t know if I can do this tonight man, I think I’m just gonna head out.” He smacks Javy on the arm and heads out to the lot, hating the sympathetic look he knows he’s getting from his friend.

Back in the bar everyone has noticed Jake’s abrupt exit, especially you. Leaning in to press his lips to your ear Bradley says “Well that took less time than I thought, you sure have got him twisted up honey.” He’s grinning, the little shit stirrer, and while you had expected more of a reaction you knew you were in for it when Jake finally got his head on straight.

You’d met Rooster in Japan, working as a medic while he was on a rotation around six months before. It had been a fun friends with benefits situation, no strings and while you couldn’t deny that the sex was phenomenal you were still in the mindset of settling down. Bradley knew that and had told you whenever you were ready to cut things off he’d respect it, you were a good friend and great company but he wasn’t marriage material and he knew it. So when he’d headed back to California and found out that not only was Hangman there, but that you were still hung up on him he had a golden opportunity. Fuck with Jake a little, and maybe get you your happily ever after, it made perfect sense to him even if you thought he was crazy for suggesting it. You couldn’t deny that it was working, Jake had been rattled and ran for the hills, maybe Rooster’s plan wasn’t so half brained after all.

Bradley made it his mission to irritate Jake as much as possible the following week, making sure to let everyone in his radius know he was taking lunch to his girlfriend, loudly answering your phone calls, even dropping flowers off at your office one day. It was maddening, Jake felt like he’d been deflated, he couldn’t even bring himself to string together a sentence when you were around not to mention how much you being around was affecting his ego.

He still hadn’t spoken to you since you saw him at the hard deck, you were so frustrated, you’d really thought he’d come show his ass and the two of you would have it out but it was almost like he didn’t even care you were here. You were so in your head as you headed for the elevator that you ran smack into a warm wall of muscle, dropping your files and your bag. “Oh shit I’m so sorry, I wasn’t even looking are you o-“ you cut off as you looked right into the pretty green eyes of your ex.

“Hey, yeah I’m ok, you alright? Here let me help you” he made quick work of gathering your stuff, accidentally brushing your hand as he handed you one of the files. You knew he felt it too by the sharp intake of breath, just being around each other was enough to bring it all back, it made you want to climb him like a tree and beg him to take you back. You were far too stubborn for that so you stepped away from him like his touch had set you on fire, for someone so uninterested in your presence he certainly looked offended by the action, brows creased with that pesky forehead vein poking out that you always used to pick on him for.

This was awkward, you’re not his anymore but being this close to you may drive him insane. Your perfume is the same, your hair is a little lighter but it suited you, and you looked so damn beautiful, just like you always had. He needed to say something, just staring at you was going to freak you out but he couldn’t find the words. Jesus when did he get so weird?! He muttered out a “see you later” and started to head back down the hall, but you grabbed his hand at the last second, yanking him back towards you.

“Ok what gives?! You’ve been so weird since I got here, I know things ended badly with us but you left me remember?”

“Oh trust me sweets, I remember. Biggest fucking mistake of my life.”

“I’m sorry…what?” He had to be fucking with you, this wasn’t what you expected at all.

“I did leave, and it’s the worst thing I’ve ever done. Fuck y/n I think it about it every damn day, I was stupid and thought I wanted to party my life away, all it left me with was a broken heart and an empty house. I know you’re with Bradshaw now so we shouldn’t even be talking like this-“

“I’m not with Bradley.” You blurted out. “I mean we dated for a little while but he knew how much you hurt me and couldn’t help himself. He certainly knows how to get under your skin.”

“Yeah well, I probably deserve it.” He said as he ran his hand over his face.

“You do” you said with a grin, but noticed he hadn’t let go of your hand.

“So you’re saying that you’re single then?” He said with his smug grin, all it took was knowing he had a chance to bring back the Hangman persona, you shook your head with a laugh, he was already reeling you in. “Yeah, yeah it looks like. Who’s asking?” He chuckled as he pulled you closer, hooking a finger under your chin.

“I am baby, and if I have it my way you won’t be for long.”

Stubbornness be damned, you’d had your fun and now all you wanted was to give in to whatever was causing the butterflies in your stomach, so you let him kiss you. Hot, heavy and definitely indecent considering the environment, you basked in what it felt like to have his lips on yours again. He pulled a way a little, reveling in the way you tried to chase his lips; maybe he had affected you more than you’d let on too. One thing was for sure, he wouldn’t break your heart again, he was already dreaming up ideas of forever, it finally seemed like you both were on the same page.

🏷️ Tagging- @mamamaystbr @mamachasesmayhem @attapullman @roosterforme @bradshawssugarbaby @bobgasm @sailor-aviator @goldenseresinretriever @sarahsmi13s @hangmansgbaby @sebsxphia @mynameismckenziemae

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

This one was

oof

*deepbreath*

Flight Risk

Young!Mihawk x Marine!AFAB!Reader Ch. 9 of...uh what are numbers. Hilarious how I thought this might only be like four chapters originally.

Wordcount: 3,479

First chapter and previous chapter link

Brief summary of The Story So Far: Your mission, as a Marine and Zoan type devil fruit user (gray parrot), is to gather intel on Dracule Mihawk, a pirate on the Grand Line who has become a thorn in the Marines' side over a relatively short period of time. He has been allotted forty-eight hours to make his decision on the offer of becoming a Warlord, and you can do little but imagine what that means for you

Warnings and stuff: THIS CHAPTER IS NSFW. The next chapter will also be NSFW. The previous chapter was kinda NSFW but this one has definitely breached that territory. Young!Mihawk is unapologetically yandere here. Also I apologize for how much I love cliffhangers

Taglist: @i-am-vita, @madbadpadawan, @browneyedhufflepuff, @h0n3y-l3m0n05, @littleleelee, @nerium-lil , @dragon-bubs , @animefreak818 , @byysandra , @lufemia , @gizamalblythe , @schanwow

If anyone wants to be added to the taglist, just lemme know!!

Whatever else Bogard had to say on the matter fell on deaf ears as Mihawk, following his comment about you, dropped the reciever of the den den mushi back onto the desk, ending the call. He lowered his hand, tracing his fingers slowly along the length of your innter thigh, slipping his other out of your bra and behind your back to toy with the clasp holding it shut.

“To think you’ve spent the better part of two months hiding yourself from me,” he murmured. He sighed, hsaking his head, his fingertips trailing a path over the edge of your panties and over the curve of your bare waist seemed to leave tendrils of flame in their wake. “Such a waste of valuable time.” You bit your lip against a whimper as he deftly slipped the claps of your bra loose, lifting his hands to gently brush the straps down your shoulders, pulling the garment away from you. “And now we’re left with only two days to correct it.”

And he stopped, cupping his hands beneath your breasts, his thumbs halting so close to the stiff points of your erect nipples, your head such a fog that it was difficult to convince yourself this wasn’t all a much too vivid dream.

“You’re trembling, my pet,” he informed you in a light, amused tone, as if you weren’t already aware. You were shaking all over, anxious, anticipating, dying to hear his next words, craving his next touch. I am curious—how many men have had you before?”

You bit down harder on your lip, clenching your eyes shut, flaring with embarrassment at the blunt question. You could barely form a single thought already—the thought of admitting that made your head spin all the more violently.

“I asked you a question.”

“None—” you gasped out, gripping so hard at the edge of the chair that you thought you might tear the upholstery if you couldn’t will yourself to stop. You swallowed, your heart accelerating as you focused every ounce of your attention on his lips caressing your jaw, on his hands pushing up your breasts, on anything but the subject at hand. “N...none.”

“Not one?” His slight astonishment didn’t sound feigned, seemed perfectly honest, and you nodded quickly, wishing he would move his hands, in any direction, whether further away or even closer. He hummed quietly. “I did wonder, with how concerned your rear admiral seemed—no?” He chuckled as you shook your head rapidly. You had never mixed work with pleasure, had never even thought to, and Bogard was your commanding officer, had never been anything but professional. “I find it difficult to believe none of your fellow cadets would have taken interest in such a pretty little thing.”

“N—n-no—” You stammered as he finally pulled the rough pads of his thumbs across your nipples. You felt him draw in a sharp breath as you lowered your hand to grip his thigh, arch your back, unintentionally grinding yourself back against the stiff bulge at the front of his pants. His breath released as a low growl vibrating against your neck, and he rewarded you for the unexpected stab of pleasure by pressing down lightly on your sensitive nipples and massaging them in slow, small circles.

“No one,” he repeated with a sigh, quickly regaining control of himself, grinding against your hips when that single taste of gratification wasn’t enough. “So innocent.” He drew in a slow, deep breath, pressing his lips hard against your neck for a moment. “That’s as good as a crime, for such a lovely creature to be untouched for so long…”

Your eyes snapped open, staring down to watch his left hand as it slipped down from your breast, his fingertips drifting like feathers down the soft plane of your stomach.

“I hardly have any choice but to make it right myself.”

Further, lower, beneath the dip of your navel, brushing across the waist of your panties—his other hand lifting away from your breast, his breath hot against your jaw as he curled it beneath your chin and spoke with his lips barely brushing the corner of your mouth.

“Turn your head.” You bit your lip, unable to tear your eyes from his hand halted at your waist, his fingertips caressing across the top of your panties. If you looked at him, allowed your eyes to lock with his for even a moment, it would all be real.

“Turn,” he repeated slowly, his voice still an intimate murmur, though a bit firmer in his command, “your head, pet. That wasn’t a request. No,” he said, shaking his head as your eyes snapped shut and you started to turn. “You will keep your eyes open. I want you here, not somewhere else.”

He knew exactly what you were trying to do. Trying to close your eyes, imagine you were somewhere else, anywhere else, that this really was all a strange dream, that you weren’t willingly going against your mission in favor of the promise of carnal pleasure—

“I would hate to have to punish my little bird,” he murmured, though from the way he pulled you back against him, close enough that you felt the throbbing of his arousal against your lower back, he hardly seemed that put off by the thought. “Especially when we’re in the middle of enjoying ourselves.” He lifted his hand from your chin, brushed your hair back from your temple and tucked it behind your ear, trailing his fingers down your neck. “Look at me, pretty girl.”

Your eyes drifted open as you turned your head, and your heart exploded into arrhythmia the moment they locked with his—hearing him murmur that pet name in your ear, as much a taunt as it was a sultry invitation, made it impossible for you to turn away. He said it so quietly, so tenderly, so salaciously that you obeyed him automatically, staring wide-eyed into the mingling amusement and hunger in his gaze. He brushed his knuckles below your chin and settled his fingertips at the edge of your hairline, at your temple.

“You belong to me now,” he said, tilting his head slightly and leaning in. “Do not forget that.”

You swallowed, unable to move at all now that your gaze was locked with his, the sharp yellow orbs holding you in place as if by some irresistible magnetic force. He still wasn’t moving either, except to stroke his thumb across your lips. Your eyes flashed down toward his other hand, wondering why he didn’t continue, wishing he would, you had done everything he asked.

“What is it, my darling pet? Did you want me to touch you? Yes?” he chuckled when you nodded several times. “You have followed most of my orders well,” he allowed, dragging his knuckles down your neck, down your collorbone, resting his hand over your breast. “I might...if you can ask nicely.”

You had no choice. The dull, throbbing ache between your thighs, only a couple inches beneath his fingertips, it was too much to bear now. Too good to resist. He seemed bent on enjoying your growing desperation as long as possible before he gave you anything else, and you had no choice but to play along.

“Please—plea…” And bent on making it as difficult as possible, as he brushed his lips to your jaw, to the corner of your mouth. You licked your lips, your mouth gone dry from your erratic breathing. “Please t—touch me,” you breathed, your eyes clenching shut briefly, a small whimper escaping you as he tightened his grip on your breast, his palm rubbing across your oversensitive nipple. But you forced them back open quickly—he had told you to keep them open, there was no choice in that. “Please…”

“‘Please’ what?”

You swallowed dryly, immediately grasping his meaning—then bluring out what he was looking for in a pained cry as he pinched your nipple hard between his thumb and forefinger.

“P-please—mm—master—please t-touch—”

But your desperate pleas were cut short, muffled as he crushed his lips so hard against yours that it nearly hurt. By the sharp breath he inhaled and the ferocity of his brief kiss he must have approved, even if his grip on your breast had tightened to the point that it pulled another gasp of pain from you—yet it also sent a jolt though you that made you pull your thighs a bit tighter against the throbbing pressure between them. He abruptly broke away, exhaling a slow sigh as he loosened his hand.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked lightly, gently massaging the soft mound under his grasp so you released your breath in a shaking sigh. He raised his eyebrows, waiting for you to respond, but all you could find the will to do was offer a short nod. “Oh, dear…” He lifted his hand to your cheek, brushing his thumb across your trembling bottom lip. “I’ll need to take care not to forget how delicate you are.” Your eyes fluttered shut as his lips brushed a tender kiss against the corner of your mouth. “I would hate to break my new toy when I’ve hardly yet had a chance to play with it.”

You glanced down as he pulled his other hand away from your stomach, shifting it to your waist—and he stood so suddenly that you three your arms around his neck with a cry of alarm, sure he would shove you right to the floor at his feet for a moment. Instead he hooked an elbow under your knees, cradling you in his arms and resting his forehead against yours.

“I suppose I ought to atone for my carelessness.”

You couldn’t have torn your gaze away from his sharp yellow eyes if you wanted to, from the ever present devilish spark glowing in their depths, unaware of where you were being carried until he lay you across the elongated daybed across the room at the huge window stretching up to an arch at the high ceiling, where he had spent much of his spare time reading with you perched near his side in your devil fruit form over the last several weeks. He brushed a few books off of it, letting them fall over the edge and to the stone floor without a care for where they landed.

You fought the impulse to cover yourself as his eyes passed slowly over you, certain he would only tug your hands aside if you tried to. You instead shifted back against the cushions behind you, your gaze flickering to his hand tracing a slow path up your inner thigh. A shiver crept through you as his light touch passed over the small triangle that was the front of your plain white panties, continuing slowly up the flat plane of your stomach—up, between your breasts as he pushed your legs apart with his knee, up to your neck to curl beneath your chin as you lay your head back on the pile of throw pillows.

He planted his elbow on the bed above your shoulder, and a soft whimper left you at the caress of his lips at the other side of your neck. You gripped at the edge of the mattress at the powerful, pleasurable quiver between your thighs that came with the delicate path his lips traced along the curve of your neck, your breath entering and leaving your lungs in short, halting bursts.

“You are truly exquisite,” he murmured, so close to your ear that his lips brushed across it. His fingers curled into your hair near your temple and you found yourself turning your head toward the light touch automatically, arching your hips as his other hand gripped at the soft flesh of your rear. His low chuckle in your ear alone was enough to pull a soft moan from somewhere in your chest. “And so sensitive. You really haven’t been touched before, have you, my pet?”

As he shifted to shove off his coat before he moved his hand up your hip, lacing his fingers around the side of your underwear, trailing his lips across your neck, you finally dared to glance down. You immediately regretted doing so as your breath stuttered to a halt and your eyes became glued to him. You had seen him shirtless before, but never so close, much less pinning you into such a compromising position beneath him. You gripped the mattress under you a little tighter, wondering whether he would be angry if you lifted your hands to touch his broad shoulders, to feel his powerful, solid chest under your palms; to brush your fingers over his sleep, jet black hair or the contours of his high cheekbones and angular jaw.

The temptation was quickly growing too great to bear—at least when he had been behind you you couldn’t see the slow rising and falling of his chest, or how each muscle in his strong upper arms flexed as his hands explored across your nearly naked body.

You could ask.

The prospect filled you with such intense anxiety that you were sure you would faint, even before you could feel his skillful hands delve below the waist of your panties. You swallowed as his lips brushed your jaw, closing your eyes for a moment and drawing in a slow, deep breath, drawing up every ounce of resolve in your mind and body to find the ability to speak.

“C...can...can I touch you—mm—master?”

You couldn’t muster more than a whisper, but he had heard you—he paused with his lips grazing the crook of your neck, and your heart stopped briefly with the cessation of his movement, your fingers digging into the edge of the mattress. Maybe you shouldn’t have asked, shouldn’t have even spoken without permission. Perhaps that wasn’t as bad as laying your hands on him, on his pale skin stretched taut across his lean, toned torso and his roguishly handsome face; but it was still surely punishable, enough to irritate him if the pressure of his fingertips digging into your waist and stomach were any indication.

Then he sighed slowly, his breath quavering as he loosened his grip. Your own breath left you in a sigh as well when he combed his fingers down through your hair, down until you could turn your cheek into the warmth of his rough palm.

“Do you really have to ask, dear?”

The brief disruption in his composure was gone in a flash in his light, amused tone. The question was rhetorical on its surface, but anything could be a test. Any oversight could potentially get you into trouble, and you were too vulnerable in your present situation to be able to do anything to counteract it. You swallowed again, and managed to force yourself to speak up. It was only a mumble, a trembling murmur, but at least it was more than a whisper this time.

“I...didn’t want to...to make you angry, sir.”

There was nothing disapproving in his quiet chuckle—if it was a test, you had passed. You lay your head back in a low, breathy moan as he brushed his lips to the column of your throat. “As reward for your obedience…”

The warm vibration of his murmur at your jaw, just below your chin, had you clenching your thighs around his knee, arching your back and your hips in a futile attempt to find some respite from the unbearable, swelling pressure throbbing between them. He shifted his other knee between your legs, forcing them apart again, refusing to allow you any relief. You felt his lips brush across your own and drew in a sharp breath as the quiet sound of his deep voice alone lifted goosebumps all over your body.

“You may.”

For a brief, terrifying moment, your hands refused to move.

Your shoulders tensed as you fought the anxiety crippling you from loosening your death-grip on the mattress beneath you—he couldn’t grant you permission if he didn’t want you to, and for you to falter now would surely do nothing more than annoy him.

Then he lifted your head, pressing his lips fully to yours, and every muscle in your body relaxed in the brief, firm kiss. You lifted your hand nearest the window, trembling, until your fingertips grazed the hard muscle adorning his thick upper arms. You gasped at the shock it sent through your body, pulling your hand away for a moment as the warmth of his skin seemed to scorch your fingers.

Then you lifted it further, your eyes fluttering shut at the delightful sensation of his lips gingerly grazing your cheek, and let your palm rest against his broad shoulder. Your other rose from the edge of the mattress, as if longing of its own accord to feel the heat of his body beneath it, and you felt as much as you heard his slow sigh as you trailed your fingertips up the hard plane of his chest, up the cords of his strong neck and jaw. Your breath stuttered to an astonished halt when your reached his sharp cheekbone and he leaned toward your touch, brushing a kiss to your lips as your fingertips slipped into his soft, dark hair.

“Is it your intention to break my will?” he asked lightly. His amusement was still present, but there was a quiet purr in his deep, sensual murmur that made your heart flutter and your breath catch. You quickly shook your head—and then gasped, digging your fingertips into his scalp and his muscular shoulder when he pressed a hard kiss to your neck and sucked the tender skin into his mouth, biting down lightly. He exhaled a slow, heavy breath of air before pressing his lips there again, gingerly, lightly grazing his tongue against the same spot.

“Are you quite sure?” You nodded automatically—you had barely done anything at all, nothing you thought would affect him remotely as much as it would you. “You do possess quite a talent for fooling me.” You opened your eyes when you felt his forehead rest against yours, and found his gaze boring into you, challenging you to show any sign of dishonesty. You swallowed, unable to blink as you stared straight back into his eyes. “Your talent for acting is nothing short of captivating.”

You swallowed as you felt his hand creep across your stomach, below your navel, his fingers curling around the edge of your panties again.

“But it makes it difficult to know whether you’re lying,” he went on, his lips grazing yours with each murmured word. You couldn’t breathe as he curled his fingers in your hair. “I can hardly tell without seeing your eyes.”

His fingertips, brushing across the small, thin triangle of fabric that barely covered your intense arousal.

“Tell me….” He brushed his thumb across your burning cheek. “Who is it you belong to?”

“Y—you,” you said automatically—and hurried to correct yourself when he lifted his eyebrows. “You, sir—y-you’re my master.”

He pressed his lips firmly to yours, drawing in a sharp breath as his tongue teased against your bottom lip, drawing a sharp moan up from your chest before releasing you.

“And should I reward my pretty little pet for being such a good girl?”

The pressure was unbearable now, as he pressed his palm down onto your lower abdomen to still your involuntary squirming beneath him, to stop you from arching your hips toward his light, teasing caresses.

“You sucked in a sharp breath through your teeth as he pushed his hand into your panties without warning—but he kept it still, only resting his palm over the heat of your arousal, barely brushing his fingertips against the mound, smirking as you uttered a low, agonized moan of protest.

“Y—yes, sir,” you breathed, nodding quickly. You needed it, needed to feel his skillful touch against your throbbing center, to feel the push of his fingers at your entrance, needed more. “Y-yes, master, please—”

“You will tell me when you’re close, pet. Until I allow it, you aren’t to come.”

You fixed your eyes on his and nodded quickly in response to his low warning, your heart racing in anticipation. You were apt to lose yourself the moment he applied the slightest pressure, but you would deal with the repercussions if it meant finding some relief from this agony. He brushed his lips to yours, and his next words gave you pause, made your eyes widen and your heart stop as you immediately reconsidered the possibility of defiance.

“You aren’t to come,” he repeated, his voice a low, sultry purr at the corner of your trembling lips, “until I pull you onto my cock and grant you permission.”

[ksyongi]

pairing: seventeen!hhu x fem!reader

genre: suggestive, fluff, smut, kissy kissy romance

warnings: smut, cursing, kissing, pet names, mentions of other members

wc approx: 1,750

minors DNI

m.list

req: "can you do one where they get very touchy and want to do more than make out but you prank them into playfully not being interested atm and move around a lot and they follow you around bc they know you are faking it and can’t resist it." @kookluvsu

an: decided to play around with this req!!! i took forever to finish this, sorry for the long wait!

seungcheol: you know he wants it by the way he was looking at you since you arrived. the only problem was that he couldn't have you there and then since you were in the practice room with the rest of the members. the way you were using his sweater and how its so big on you made him have to calm himself down. what a great time to trigger his size kink. so he did not waste a second of their break. he pulled you into one of the storage closets, no security cameras in sight. "finally can have you to myself." his eyelids flutter shut, capturing your lips in a kiss. he was so desperate that he was kissing you with such force and neediness. you knew you didn't have much time to even do a quickie before the guys come around to find you. seungcheol's hands were already fiddling with the hem of the sweater you had on before you had to push them off. you raise an eyebrow at him, "let's not do this alright love?" he opens his mouth to interrupt, knowing damn well you want this as much as him. "but-" "no, no but's." his lips form a pout, he swears if he places his fingers on your wet heat, you'd be soaked. fine. he'll play your stupid game. he dragged himself back to the practice room, untucking his shirt to cover the visible tent in his pants. you could see the hidden pain in his face, trying to keep his expression neutral. you giggled to yourself, ignoring the look he shot you. you could say you were surprised when they cut short the practice because the instructor had to run off somewhere..so sudden after seungcheol had a word with him..weird. you honestly wanted to have more fun with seungcheol, but you had to be thanking your lucky stars that he hasn't snapped yet. in honest fact, him possibly bribing the instructor was one of the things that you expected him to do. he was all back to normal now, seeing him wave to his members as you were leaving. so how could you not have expected him to recline his chair back, and go into the back seats of his car, that he re-parked at a hidden corner in the carpark. "come here sweetheart, you asked for it." he mumbled, tearing your brand new lingerie off you. "that was a new one.." you gasp, holding the piece of fabric in your hands, "i can buy you a new one. would you hurry up? i'm getting fucking impatient now."

wonwoo: one arm on the gear stick, the other one on your thigh. he was pulling you close but the middle console was preventing him from doing so. his lips were planted on yours. you could feel his hot breath on yours, the car getting warmer and the windows started to fog up. his tongue swiped on your bottom lip and you instantly granted him access. suddenly your phone started ringing. you could hear a small whine come from him. you pulled away, far enough so he cannot chase your lips anymore. you look at the contact lit up on your screen. you'd usually ignore calls outside of work but just to tease wonwoo, you decided to answer it, especially because its his friend. “hey josh! what’s up?” joshua’s words become a blur when wonwoo’s hand started moving towards your clothed entrance. “josh, could you give me a sec? i gotta do something real quick.” you don’t wait for him to respond before muting your side of the call. “control yourself woo.” “why would i when my girlfriend has dressed up so pretty for me? so pretty for me to ruin?” he whispers. you could feel your undergarments get soaked and your pussy start to throb. you simply just continue the call with joshua after no more words had to be said. wonwoo pressed two fingers on the wet material, making a small moan come from you. "hey, you okay?" joshua asked, voiced full of concern. "yeah, just not feeling well..fuck..." you glare at wonwoo to be met with a pair of innocent doe eyes. you roll your eyes at him, and you're met with a harsh slap to your clit, one that makes you have to suppress a moan. "watch it brat." wonwoo grits. you brush him off and continue the call with joshua. wonwoo hooks his fingers around the band of your lace underwear, pushing it aside and inserting two fingers into your wet entrance. a really sinful sounding moan arose when he started pumping his two digits in you. "yeah...i think you should get some rest y/n, i'll talk to you tomorrow." you knew for a fact joshua was red on the other side of the line. "yeah will do josh, bye." and with that you end the call and drop your phone. "fuck woo.." "gosh..that took forever" he dramatically sighs, putting his chin on his free hand and increasing the speed of the other one in you. he watched you chase your release with an amused smile. "y-you better apologize to josh tomorrow. you manage to choke out. he clicks his tongue, "we'll see about that."

mingyu: making two cups of noodles? no. making out while the boiled water slowly turns cold? yes. you'd also decided to take the chance to prank mingyu, something stupid jeonghan asked you to do at your previous gathering, be uninterested. but the way his crotch was rubbing on your pants made it 100x harder. mingyu took your bottom lip and started sucking on it at the slightest made you let out a soft moan. your hands grabbing his pecks to stabilize yourself. his hands started to fiddle with the fabric of your shirt, you knew damn well where this was leading to. you're pulled apart by the low grumble from mingyu's stomach. you shake your head, "you idiot. lets eat." he shakes his head furiously, "no i'll be fine, we can eat after." thats where your prank is perfectly laid out. "no gyu, control yourself." he sulks and puts on the biggest pout he could. you'd kiss it away usually but for the sake of the prank, you cant. you can see his shoulders slump as he re-boils the water, then turning around in a huff and looking at you with the most pleading eyes ever. you feel the guilt pang in your chest but you shake your head and walk away, just getting as far as possible before you give in. you hear feet shuffle behind you and you're met with the sight of your boyfriend looking all like a sad puppy. you put a finger on his chest and push him away, "just cook the ramen gyu. the faster you do it, the faster we can do whatever we want." his eyes light up at the thought and he's shuffling back to the kitchen. of course you want to prank your boyfriend further and play dumb. you're done with the meal and mingyu finished even faster of course. so now he's giving you that look ; the look when he is horny and wants to just rail you. mingyu knows you want it too. you're just playing one of your stupid tricks. mingyu's next move surprises you. he hovers over you, his head dipping so his mouth is at the shell of your ear. "i know you want me to just take you here on the couch right now. how about you be a good girl and stop this act of yours right now. i'll be nice to you and fuck you well and rough if you listen." and with that, you're pushing him back down, hands finding his hair as his find your hips. you press your lips against his, not wasting any more time. "who gave you this idea princess?" he asks between breathers. "jeonghan," you quickly respond before going back to kiss him. his eyes roll at your response. he'd have to have a word with jeonghan afterwards.

vernon: he was stuck in the study the whole day. and it was getting on your nerves. you didn't expect him to come out anytime sooner so you decided to get some sort of entertainment by pranking him and getting him needy at the same time. killing two birds with one stone. the door was tilted slightly and he could be seen sitting at the desk, computer in front of him and headphones plugged in. his eyes darted to the door the second you pushed it open. "hey babe," he smiles, tilting his laptop screen down. "all done for today?" you place your hands on the table, leaning forward puckering your lips asking for a kiss, which he complies with, giving you a short sweet peck. "almost, just need to add in some final touches." you smile at his answer, happy to finally have him to yourself soon. the prank almost slipped your mind. you slide yourself into his lap, his hands automatically resting on your hips. you grabbed his shirt, pulling him in, you could feel him get hard underneath you. he pulled you close, his hands shifted to grope your ass, a groan arose from your throat snapping you out of your trance. "well, better finish that piece you're working on, don't wanna disturb you." lifting yourself off him, his hands stay on your waist. vernon is not usually vocal, so he had a confused frown on his face. you quickly flee, leaving a flustered vernon behind you. well you had to compose yourself but he didn't give you much time before trudging out of the room, his eyes scanning all the rooms for you. his eyes landed on yours, he dragged his feet towards you, his expression not wavering since you last saw him. he pulled your sweater, acting all clingy all of a sudden, "don't you have to finish that piece you've been working on this whole afternoon?" you sigh, hands refusing to touch him before you just jump at him. "well it's fine, i can finish it some other time." his voice slightly suggesting something you both know damn well what it was. "you sure bout' that?" you tease, eyes never moving. "because you seemed like you wanted to finish it and-" vernon cuts you off, "just kiss me already...please." he whispers. you're taken aback, but you instantly let your body melt against his.

[moonbaby26]

Title: Sabaody Shakedown

(Chapter 2 of Doflamingo’s Marine Series)

*Crossposted to AO3 here* Reader/(Y/N) type: cis female marine

Pairings: Doflamingo x Reader as primary, Smoker x Reader is in the past, Aokiji/Kuzan x Reader is teased

Chapter Warnings: masturbation, rape, non-con, voyeurism, slavery, blood, language, violence, unprotected vaginal sex, breeding kink, handjob, references to previous virginity loss

Chapter Synopsis: After running afoul of Doflamingo in Mariejois a few weeks earlier, he’s now all you can think of. But you still didn’t expect to see him again this soon, and to even more complicated results.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3

———————————

——————————— 

You had understandably been in somewhat of a mental fog the next few days after returning to Marineford. Of course you kept up appearances as best you could. But it was such an odd feeling, holding this secret inside of what you’d done.

Your body was still aching, with you even having to wipe away small amounts of blood from between your legs in the bathroom or during a shower through the week. Doflamingo had torn you just enough that it still stung whenever you tried to make your daily laps or do your workouts in the gym.

You put your mind back into training as much as you could though, just waiting for Tsuru’s battleship to return and take you back out to sea again.

But even in those times where you may finally think of something else, there would always be some sort of reminder of him. Like the scab inside of your bottom lip burning against hot food whenever you’d tried to eat. That hidden wound still in the shape of the warlord’s bite within your mouth.

With your lips closed, your tongue tip still ran idly over that imperfection inside your mouth in a way that was almost becoming a bad habit. 

In all honesty, the isolation of these confusing emotions felt similar to losing your virginity all over again. Even if that idea seemed ridiculous.

As sore as you were, as shell shocked, and as anxious that someone would discover and judge you for what you’d done…it was like figuring out sex all alone for the very first time again.

You’d bled significantly more on your true first time of course. But only because you’d still had an inexplicably thick hymen then. First torn by none other than Kuzan actually. A fact you hadn’t revealed even to Doflamingo exactly. You’d confessed to being with Aokiji before when pressed by the warlord. But not divulged that the now admiral was also your very first.

In your mind, that may still be one of many reasons why Kuzan had ended things with you back then. Because of your initial deceptions with him. He definitely hadn’t realized you were a virgin until it was too late and you were bleeding and crying in his bed. You’d been afraid to tell him.

He hadn’t been an admiral then. And you hadn’t been underage, just inexperienced. But you’d still conned him a bit if you were being honest. Playing things up as if you were far more mature than you were. When you hadn’t actually been ready for that level of intimacy yet at all. 

But by the time Smoker came along, you’d taken the time to practice with a few random, unthreatening marines here and there beforehand. It’d become a lot more natural by then. And you’d learned to actually enjoy and even look forward to sex over time.

But now Smoker was gone too and you were only left with whatever the hell this new poison was.

Because Doflamingo had raped you. Logically you knew that.

But you’d also felt more arousal in at least some of that than you could remember at any time with Smoker. It’d been like the adrenaline of battle mixed with making love. 

Minus the love.

Yet even a man like Doflamingo had seemed a little bit human in those very small instances of vulnerability he’d shown.

And you kept remembering that, the times where his perpetual mask of a smile would slip away from him. If you could have only seen his eyes, you were certain there would have been something more there too in those brief moments.

But this is how you’d been for days now. Trying to go through your routines, and adjusting back to base life while waiting for your next sail date. You’d be in the offices, then at the gym, the mess hall, and then back to the barracks.

And you’d be thinking of that warlord all the while. Like a dark stain across everything, impossible to wash away as you now laid alone in your bed after yet another long shower.

Worst of all, even if it still hurt a bit, your fingers would slide between your open legs at times. Mostly gently though, and only over the top of your underwear while you rubbed yourself with all the lights off.

You were also attracted to the Heavenly Demon’s raw will, and the challenge of it all. There was no question in that.

Aokiji was likely still the stronger in pure power between the two men. But Doflamingo was so ruthless, so exacting. Where Aokiji could freeze an entire battlefield in one swing of his palm, Doflamingo would be the assassin’s bullet instead, straight through the heart and never predicted.

You now thought of the king of Dressrosa’s rich scent which you still remembered too well, and the vibrations of his dark laugh as he’d pressed his greedy mouth against you that day in Mariejois.

You moved your own fingers in a poor substitution for his as your stomach tightened in arousal. You could feel the fabric getting damp as your pressed a little harder through your underwear.

It was so goddamn wrong though. If you hadn’t still been healing, you would have been looking for something else to slide between your legs in this moment.

You wanted to feel full again already. You wanted his heavy weight against your body. 

You breathed in quietly as you just had to use your imagination for the rest. Thinking of his voice, pretending it was there to taunt and coax you again as you massaged your own clit.

And what would he have thought of you shamelessly touching yourself for him? He’d be even more insufferable most likely. His ego was titanic enough already.

But there’s no way he would have left you to finish this all alone either. He would have been in this bed in an instant to partake as well.

So that’s what you kept focusing on to finally coax an orgasm out of yourself. Thinking of his hands desperate and grasping for you again, his breath panting, mouth biting, and hips pumping as he would have moaned for you once more.

Like a starving animal to a fresh kill. He’d let himself fully give in to what he’d wanted from you that day.

You grit your own teeth as you managed even a second orgasm as well before you’d finally let your muscles relax again. You were breathing a little harsher yourself in the dark by then. All this before you’d finally rolled back over. Then tightening the blankets around you in the absence of his body heat to warm you.

But closing your eyes didn’t erase what you still kept imagining. It was going to be a very long ordeal for you with each added night alone in these barracks. Without any other mission to focus on, it just brought out the worst in you now.

———————————

And another setback came a few days later. Early one morning when you were just getting dressed to go on a jogging run before officer meetings, your long distance snail had finally rang.

You’d been across your bedroom so fast to pickup that receiver. You knew assignments could come in the morning sometimes like this, and you’d felt so relieved to finally hear Tsuru-san’s voice again.

“Good morning.” She greeted you as normal.

“Good morning, Vice Admiral.” You’d practically been pacing the floor already though, stretching out the long phone cord as you did. “Has Amazon Lily been wrapped up?”

“For now.” She answered. Debriefings would come on that later you were sure. “I’m sorry I haven’t gotten to check in on you though.” She continued. “It’s been one thing after another. Sengoku did let me know you did well in the warlord meeting the other day.”

Of course she, Sengoku, and Garp could be like three peas in a pod. They’d come up through the ranks in the same generation together. Though both men got under Tsuru’s skin quite often, like troublesome siblings to her really. 

“Have they decided to mobilize the marines to Charybdis though?” You still asked boldly anyway, wondering if everything you’d really sacrificed that day had come to bear any fruit.

“It’s still in discussion.” She replied.

“Oh,” Well that was disappointing.

“I’m sure we’ll get word in another couple months or so. Nothing like that moves quickly in Mariejois.” You could hear that slight comfort in her tone however. She wasn’t going to blame you if they rejected the proposal regardless. ��But I can’t talk long I’m afraid. I wanted to let you know that we’re on our way to the West Blue now. They’re having a rebellion on Lyra that the government does want nipped in the bud.”

And at this your heart had absolutely sank.

“You’re not coming back then.” You stated the obvious. Not for several weeks anyway with that kind of mission and at that distance.

“I’m sorry. I know you hate being landlocked. But more so, I needed to tell you that I got a call yesterday from Vice Admiral Vergo from base G-5. He’s doing some cross training with the newer recruits for HQ. He’ll be in Marineford in a couple days. He wasn’t bringing his full crew, so he was looking for some help. How would you feel following him for a bit? I haven’t worked with him directly, but I’ve heard good things. He’s been very popular at G-5 at least.”

You were surprised of course. And it wasn’t like you should say no. An offer to work with another commander was always a good opportunity to learn something new. And to get your name out there even more if they might give you positive recommendations in the future.

But as much as you knew you couldn’t stay in Tsuru’s shadow forever, there was still a strangeness to ever being fully obligated to another leader. “I’ve never met him. But sure, I accept. I’ll help where I can while he’s here at HQ.”

“Then I’ll let him know. Thank you.” She answered easily, and you could already hear one of the other crew in the background. One of your friends confirming another a ship hailing them then. “I have another call,” Tsuru sighed. It’d obviously been hectic lately for them. “I’ll check in when I can.”

“Yes, ma’am.” You felt a bit jealous all the same though. Your usual group was off having new adventures without you.

But you could still hear that slight smile of hers on the other end. She always knew when you were struggling a bit, even if she didn’t know the full reason. “When I get back we’ll sit down and catch up truly, alright?”

“Yes.” Your voice changed a little more then. “That’d be good.”

She likely thought you were still upset over Smoker. Everyone knew about that by now. But one of those late night talks over coffee or tea with Tsuru about anything would have done you a world of good right now.

Even if you couldn’t tell her the name of the real man you were currently so hung up on. 

It sure wasn’t anyone named Smoker.

——————————

At least with a new task in mind, you’d had something else to focus on. By the day Vice Admiral Vergo was supposed to arrive though, even that morning on base had been a little bit strange.

You’d just been in the mess hall having breakfast. And a familiar, if not a bit too casual “Hey,” above you had had you looking up from your food and daily news coo paper.

You still had some oatmeal in your mouth actually as Admiral Aokiji sat down directly across from you and his food tray touched against your own.

“Hey,” you’d answered just as awkwardly, after swallowing anyway.

“Any good new bounties?” He asked by way of small talk, trying to open a sugar packet for his coffee.

“Nope.” But you watched him still, sure he would have already known if there were any exciting new pirate targets out there for you all. 

And you waited. Talk just for the sake of talk wasn’t really your thing.

But he was in no hurry either as he stirred his coffee and yawned once naturally. 

You remembered then just how hard it was for him to get up early in the mornings and get going. And you tried not to eventually give in, but failed as you pushed your newspaper over to him as old habit.

He’d always liked reading your paper instead of just getting his own back then when you’d very briefly roomed together. 

Lazy justice indeed.

“I’m still mad at you. In case you were wondering.” You finally said as you watched him as he read the news.

“I figured.” He answered, sipping his coffee as his eyes stayed on the latest happenings in the paper for a while.

Yet he had looked back up eventually. His voice was a little kinder then. “You feeling any better?”

You shrugged. “I didn’t think I’d get stuck here for this long. Does Smoker want his stuff back from my room yet or something?”

You realized now that that was the most likely reason for the admiral’s sudden appearance. He usually didn’t make the effort to talk with you one on one anymore. At least he hadn’t when you were still dating Smoker, because rumors spread so fast through gossip hungry marines.

Too much friendliness and they’d all assume you and Aokiji were a thing again.

“I’m sure he’s thinking about it. But if you just put it out on a cart at some point, I can stash it in my office until he’s back here again.” Aokiji conceded, yet also clarified. “Yet that’s not why I’m up this early.”

“Yeah?” You questioned, kind of wishing he’d just get to the point then.

“I just wanted to apologize. That’s all.” He said it simply, those dark brown eyes of his watching you.

And for a moment you thought you saw something close to pity in those eyes. Which you really didn’t like either of course. “I’m fine. You didn’t ice burn me that bad.”

“I tried not to.”

“I know.” It would have been much worse if he’d really been going all out.

“Akainu was on my ass some too of why I didn’t report you and Smoker both.” He added. “You should probably avoid him for a while. He’ll be looking for any reason to write you up.”

“Wonderful.” You sighed, knowing all too well that Akainu was an unforgiving, ‘might makes right’ kind of man himself. But if he was annoyed with you, it was likely more the fact that you’d been fighting in Mariejois itself rather than anything else. Putting marine dirty laundry out in front of the gods like that and all.

You and Aokiji were both quiet for a while again after. It was a calm aura though. You’d let your guard back down by then and were just finishing your oatmeal and fruit while he was working on a bagel he’d smeared with cream cheese.

Literally nothing was happening at your table but that, and yet as the mess hall had become more crowded you saw a few heads turning your way already. It was so stupid, but you guessed it was mostly just because his much higher rank. Simply sitting with you so close and casual, it was still making other sailors take second and even third looks at the scene.

Surely the narrative was going to be that your slutty self was already trying to bag Aokiji again. Literally just days after losing Smoker of course. And just as you’d been thinking how unfair those assumptions really were, Aokiji himself had to go and throw the ultimate wrench into it all.

“You want to get something to eat in the civilian  district tonight?” He asked, just as casually as anything.

As if that wasn’t like detonating a new bomb in your psyche.

When you stared back at him, he wasn’t even uncomfortable either. Maybe he simply wasn’t seeing this the way that you were.

“I know you hate being stuck here. I can invite whoever else too if you want to make a group thing out of it. There’s this new karaoke place they opened over there. I’ve heard they’ve got really good sushi and a hell of a bar.”

“I’m supposed to meet up with Vice Admiral Vergo today.” You said initially in absence of any better excuse.

Which he deflected easily actually. “Yeah, I heard he’s wanting to head to Sabaody just for the day. You’ll be back by tonight.”

Was he really just that worried about you that he thought you needed the forced socialization though? Or was it something else?

Regardless, whatever it was only got stranger though. Because you’d seen a little commotion at the main doors now.

A tall, dark haired marine had entered. He had a sharply trimmed beard and black sunglasses, as well as a small entourage of lower rank sailors all attentive around him.

You’d never seen him here before, so you were pretty sure exactly who he must be before the weirdest thing happened.

He’d looked in the direction of your table. And you saw his expression change. Not to say he was all that expressive to begin with. But you caught it. If only for a single second that he’d had a completely different look. 

Was it one of disapproval or maybe even concern? 

And he had made an absolute bee line to get to you both.

Whatever that odd energy was though, you saw even Aokiji straighten up, no longer slouching when the man came up on him from behind.

Yet the stranger’s voice was perfectly normal as he spoke. “Good morning, Admiral. May I join you?”

Aokiji had looked up in a little surprise, yet recognizing the other man as he nodded. “Vice Admiral Vergo, good morning. And yes of course. I was just talking to the Captain here.”

“I saw,” Vergo replied, head turning to give full attention to you then. “Captain (Y/N)? Vice Admiral Tsuru had recommended you for some help I’ll need while I’m here at HQ. If it’s alright, I’m actually ready to sail to Sabaody this morning if you’re done here. You were the one I was looking for.”

The sudden rush to leave when he’d literally just gotten here was bizarre to you too. Though it’s not like you couldn’t just agree. He would be in charge of you for now.

“Nice to meet you, sir.” You just nodded, though already picking up any trash of yours as clearly your breakfast was now over. “Yes, I’m ready to set sail. I’m at your disposal.”

“Good.” Vergo responded, already standing again then.

You stood too, ready to put away your tray and follow him.

But Aokiji spoke up one more time before you or Vergo could walk away.

“Have fun at the archipelago then. Let me know about dinner when you’re back. Okay?”

And again, it was just friendly, typical Aokiji in tone at least. But you felt strange as you’d seen Vergo hesitate slightly in front of you at the admiral’s words.

None of that new tension made any sense. So you just smiled without knowing what else to do. “Yeah, I’ll let you know, Admiral. See ya later.”

———————————

True to his word, Vergo really had been ready to sail. Because it hadn’t been long at all before you were standing on the bow of his ship then, watching the gates of Marineford open once more.

He was near your side as well as he explained the morning’s objectives. “I’ve agreed to take new recruits to Sabaody for patrols there today. They need to practice being in uniform and interacting with the citizens. This will be a diverse enough environment to do that in.”

Even though Sabaody could be very interesting when there off duty at least, just patrolling it with a bunch of newly enlisted sounded frankly boring.

Though it was still pretty satisfying to at least see the ocean again and hear the sails opening further in the wind as Vergo continued.

“But I have a separate job for you too.”

“Sir?” Of course you’d perked up a little at that. Something hopefully more interesting than babysitting the rookies at least.

“I pulled the latest certifications and it turns out our inspections of the ‘Employment Office’ in grove 1 are a couple months past due. Can you handle that for me?”

You stared a moment, but didn’t dare decline. Of course you could handle it. But it didn’t mean you wanted to set foot in that awful place if you didn’t have to. “I’ll check in if that’s what you need done. But are they selling today?” You still asked, hoping that answer would be a no. 

“I don’t know.” He answered though, black sunglasses just looking at you with no real expression again.

“Well…” You weren’t familiar with Vergo well enough to know how you were supposed to word this. “When it is a selling day, there could even be a Celestial Dragon there. Am I permitted to find any violation that could possibly delay an auction that they might be attending?”

“What you do is up to you.” He responded just as vaguely though. Not seeming to give it any thought at all. “That’s why I’m asking you to handle it.”

“Yes, sir.” You answered back without displaying how unhelpful you thought he was being. Maybe you really were just too used to Tsuru. 

Because even a seemingly easy assignment like this could end up a disaster if you pressed either too much or too little in relation to whatever Vergo’s personal standards were. Yet apparently he wasn’t even going to tell you where his line was right now.

So you’d just have to wing it you supposed.

—————————— 

On paper, the marines officially referred to this building as the “Public Employment Security Office”. Of course far better known for what it really was as the Human Auctioning House. An unfortunate and still very legal fixture out front and center in grove 1 of Sabaody Archipelago as you’d walked all the way there after disembarking from the marine ship at the harbor.

Vergo and the others had spread out to other areas. So you were on your own here as you’d announced yourself to the guards at the back door.

They didn’t look particularly interested. But showing them your rank and marine card gave them no choice but to begrudgingly let you in. You didn’t care about any pageantry in the front of house, purposefully coming in the back. Yet only to immediately be hit with the smell of the cage area.

If anything was going to be against current regulations, you were sure it was going to be here in the “backstage” as you frowned. 

The source of the smell was evident as there indeed was human stock in the cages to your unease. As much as you’d hoped this would have been an in between day where no one was yet being held for the next auction date.

Wonderful.

“The boss will be here in a minute. He had to make a call. We weren’t supposed to be having any inspections today.” Some lackey grunted at you as you started to look around while waiting.

“Legally we don’t have to give you any notice you know.” Though maybe that was part of why the place hadn’t been checked in a while per Vergo. Was it a true oops by your fellow marines, or an on purpose look the other way kind of thing?

You were guessing the latter by how much everyone seemed to be glaring through you even as an office door opened and another man finally came out.

“Well, this is awfully early to be getting my employees upset, don’t you think? I really don’t have the time for this, whoever you are.” The brightly attired man sneered a little at you. With a stupid looking hat and star shaped sunglasses on.

“Captain (Y/N).” You corrected him. “And it smells like shit in here.”

The man immediately bristled even further at that, as if you were just the most vulgar brat he’d ever encountered. But you liked getting people like him even more on edge as quickly as possible. He wouldn’t be thinking straight to lie as easily to you. But he didn’t seem that smart anyway honestly.

“Well…that’s to be expected isn’t it with these animals?” And as he said so, he hit the cage bars in emphasis to his disgust for the current inventory.

“You aren’t supposed to hold anyone in a legal auction site more than three days without the chance to properly clean themselves.” You responded as if you were only commenting on the weather though. Which was extremely difficult. But if you let your real emotions slip, you knew you’d just be wanting to wipe the floor with Mr. ‘Star Glasses’ and every guard in here.

You kept on too. “It’s really the bare minimum not to spread infection, as per the human trafficking amendments passed in the last reverie, Mr…who are you exactly?”

“Disco!” He almost yelled now. “And this is uncalled for! You’re supposed to schedule these inspections!”

“Yeah, well. That’s not what the law says either.”

“This is ridiculous.”

“It is.” You agreed as you continued to walk, watching the victims on the other side of the bars. It wasn’t that many really. Mostly human women today though, sitting on crates with their chains running to the wall behind them.

They wouldn’t even make eye contact with you though. And why should they? They knew the law here. A simple marine wasn’t going to be able to do a thing that would actually save them now. 

The best you could do was just give this shithead as much grief as possible. Minor fines maybe, stupid things like not spacing their chains out far enough, or failing to clear enough crates away from the fire exit. 

Which the idea of proper egress was laughable too of course, knowing only the workers would ever save themselves in any emergency. The slaves would just be left chained here to die.

Still, those kinds of slaps on the wrist had been your only real plan before you’d noticed a chain whose victim you could just see a hint of. They’d been small enough to fully disappear after too, cowering behind their crate as soon as they’d heard Disco’s voice berating you.

“Open this.” You said immediately at that, stopping then and there as your voice changed.

“What?” Disco scoffed. “Absolutely not!”

You glared back over your shoulder at him. “It wasn’t a request. Open the holding area. I want to inspect number 7.” You clarified in correspondence with the slaves’ numbered placards on the wall.

“Just who do you think you are!?” 

His voice was so annoying to you. “Either use the keys or I take the keys.” And as you said this, you tightened your fist, letting a purposeful display of haki crackle briefly across it. 

By the way he took a step back, he got the message finally. But he was still so high on himself. “Fine. Be a brute if you must. This will be the last time you’ll ever work in Sabaody again, Captain whoever you are!” He said it so mockingly. “Do you know who owns this place now!?”

But you were ignoring him by then. As one of the guards did open a gate in the bars and you walked in immediately to slave number seven’s holding place.

Disco was still bitching at you too as you quietly crouched on one knee to look behind that crate.

And you offered the softest smile you could manage, even though you could feel your blood already trying to boil.

“Hey there.” You told the young boy as he stared up at you with big fearful eyes. You’d thought you’d seen a hint of a tailfin too as you’d been walking, and you’d been right.

It was an extremely young merman. You’d guess only four or five years old honestly. His face was tear stained and clearly bruised as he still tried to make himself as small as possible under your gaze.

You didn’t want to frighten him anymore than he already was though. So you said nothing else to him even as you visually noted his partly emaciated look as well.

This wasn’t going to end well at all for anyone now. You already knew that as you finally stood again. Not when it came to literal children being in this hellhole. He was practically a baby for how short his fins still were.

And as you walked back out through the still open gate, your demeanor had gone fully cold.

“You’ve got underage product. You have to release him.” You said so confidently even as you were now mentally counting every guard, and weapon in your view.

It was something between a gasp and a laugh that escaped Disco at that. “You’re insane! And this is over! When my boss gets a hold of you, you stupid bitch-“

Your rope dart was off your shoulder in an instant, swinging as you let the flat side of the blade clock Disco hard enough to knock him right down onto his narrow ass.

Every guard had a gun pulled and aimed at you then.

But even they weren’t dumb enough to just start firing on a marine.

“Ten is the minimum legal age for trafficking fishmen and merpeople.” You answered. But only even that much because of the newer restrictions that had just passed. “And if we want to play the ‘my boss is bigger than yours’ game, then alright. I can do that too.”

Your heart was pounding so hatefully and you knew you were about to lose control and beat all these guys into paste if you didn’t do something drastic like this.

You just prayed that the man you had in mind would actually answer as you pulled the small marine snail from your pocket. The big wigs at HQ you only needed to dial a three digit code for on a marine officer’s snail like this.

Of course you had his memorized as you keyed it immediately and everyone else could hear the snail trying to connect. And they were surprised into further silence as he did answer with a loud click.

“This is Admiral Aokiji…”

How big all their eyes then became told you you were now the one in control here.

“Hey, it’s me.” You replied, though doing your best not to sound too angry still. But you were also petty enough to really want to make these jerks sweat now that you had a higher authority in play. “Remember how you wanted to go get sushi tonight?”

Was Disco’s ‘boss’ he kept threatening you with friends with an admiral like you were? You wanted that slaver prick especially to understand all this.

“Yeah. When are you back? I’m off duty at 19 hundred.” He answered you so easily too. But he knew your voice inflections well, just like you knew his. You could tell he already sensed some kind of bullshit afoot. But he was still a team player enough to wait for you to explain the how or why.

“Well how about lunch in Sabaody instead?” You offered, watching the men around you spiral further by their expressions. “I’ve run into a little trouble here at the ‘Employment Office’. You’re on speaker by the way.”

“Ah.” He didn’t sound surprised at all about the trouble part at least. Nor did he care that they could already hear him. “You need backup then?”

“No, I think it’s okay. I’m just trying not to make a scene truthfully. They have an underage merman here that they don’t want to release. While I think they really should. What do you think, Admiral?”

You could about see the sweat running down Disco’s face now in the brief silence as Aokiji considered the question. The auctioneer had stood back up at some point from where you’d knocked him down earlier. But now looked like he may collapse again on his own here shortly.

Aokiji eventually spoke to them for you however, going into full marine protocol then. “This is Admiral Aokiji. Captain (Y/N) does have the authority to release individuals held below the legal age limit as per the last trafficking treaty amendments with the World Government.”

But he still finished with a more personal touch. You’d almost forgotten how much he did like to mess with you sometimes. “Also, more off the record, but she really has a soft spot for kids too. You’re barking up the wrong tree here, fellas. I’d let the boy go and cut your losses now if you don’t want her boot through your teeth. She’s got my permission to do what she has to.”

It always felt so good to win. “Thanks, Admiral. I think we’re done here.” You answered, properly satisfied.

“Alright. Call if you need me. It’s a paperwork kind of day, so I wouldn’t mind getting out. Sabaody isn’t far.” He said as one last threat to these men of course.

“Understood.” You were about to hang up too before he added.

“And I still want sushi. Let me know when you’re on your way back to base.”

You paused, and as out of place as it should have been here and now, you did truly smile before you could stop yourself. Because he was rarely this persistent. Of course you couldn’t remember the last time you’d called him direct either. It was a bit nostalgic.

“I’ll let you know. I’ve still got to see what else Vergo needs from me after this.” You answered him.

“Okay. See ya.” He agreed.

“Bye.” You finished, hanging up the snail to look back at Disco and his henchmen.

The looks on their faces were still some sort of mix between horror and amazement. 

You were feeling pretty happy in that moment too, thinking you’d at least just saved a child while also preventing the political consequences of an all out brawl at a legal auction house.

But pride had been your weakness before. And that trend didn’t stop here today as you almost didn’t feel the touch when it finally happened.

It was as gentle as a cobweb ghosting across the back of your neck. And that was what you’d really thought it was. Just dusty refuse from the cavernous darkness of the rafters above.

Even Disco didn’t know what had happened at first. Your body had just stopped when you’d been walking to get the merboy’s keys from him. You could see the auctioneer’s face turn to confusion, much like your own as suddenly all your limbs were resisting you. 

And even behind those ridiculous star shaped sunglasses, you saw his expression change to absolute shock not long after. Just as you heard a large something land directly behind you, the lurking predator pouncing down at last from out of the rafters.

“Boss!” Disco screeched, looking half between a heart attack and renewed hope as he stared up and over your shoulder.

But you already knew. That familiar flutter of fear was clear even before Doflamingo’s warm body pressed against your back and his hand ran around to grab your jaw from behind.

“Back for more so soon, Captain?” He’d said it so goddamn enticingly too, just before he’d jerked your head backward painfully. An upside down, and very rough kiss then forced on you as you couldn’t pull away from him.

Your body wouldn’t listen at all below the neck as you felt the vibration of his laugh even as he squeezed your jaw to the point of bruising. His long tongue was then trying to force its way past your teeth again.

And the fools all around you were left in stunned silence yet again at this newest scene. It’d been an absolute rollercoaster of surprises for everyone in this room in just these last few minutes.

But when Doflamingo did finally end the kiss again, with a little string of spit breaking between your mouths as he pulled away, it was still Disco who had the audacity to speak first.

“I…I knew you were on the island, sir. But I didn’t know that you were already here. Who is…I mean, do you know her, sir?” Disco sounded like he was trying to understand, apologize, and beg for his life all at once.

“I wasn’t far when you called. Quit groveling.” Doflamingo just reprimanded him bluntly, but with those red sunglasses never looking away from you. “And yes, I more than know this bitch. Unfortunately.”

By his unhappy tone, you immediately remembered his threat from Mariejois as well. To never mess with his business dealings again. But there’d been nothing on the record of the warlord or “Joker” being involved here. But goddamn Disco had said it earlier, hadn’t he?

Do you know who owns this place now!?”

Implying a more recent partnership between the two. But no, this was still utter bullshit. You hadn’t known. How could you have?

“Doflam-“ You tried to say. You wanted to argue at least. But his name didn’t even make it fully out of your mouth. His fingers had slid across your lips in one harsh swipe, coating them in thick string instead. String that he then pulled tight around the back of your head to gag and fully silence you.

“Too late, woman.” He grumbled, and there was a whole new venom to it now. “Come on, Disco…into the office and we’ll deal with this mess.” 

Doflamingo was walking away from you then. He had one hand in his pocket again, but the other near his hip as his fingers moved. And as they did, so did your legs and feet. You were forced along behind him as the three of you entered Disco’s office and the door was slammed shut behind you.

“Get your ledger.” Doflamingo seemed to almost be ignoring you in the moments that followed too, glare focused on his underling instead. “How much did you pay the traders for that boy?”

You could tell in the flustered way that Disco now sat at his desk and started digging through drawers, that this wasn’t exactly going well for him either.

Carefully while those two were focused on each other though, you had tried to draw out your haki again. You weren’t sure how Doflamingo’s parasite ability truly functioned. You knew he’d attached something to your neck earlier, but was that all you had to break to be free of him?

Yet whatever this connection now was, he must have immediately felt your attempt at resistance against it. Because even though you’d barely done anything, he’d jerked his hand so violently in response that your body had slammed down to Disco’s desk with an audible cracking sound in the wood itself.

Disco gasped nearly as loud as that breaking sound when your chest hit his desk that hard. More papers were also knocked away when you were then forced to splay your hands out on either side of your head.

You couldn’t say any true curse of pain either with those strings still across your mouth.

But you were now fully bent over the desk. Your head near Disco who was seated there in shock, and your ass now tilted up as Doflamingo moved the tail of your marine coat to the side and bent his own long legs just enough to get his pelvis even with the back of your then exposed skirt.

“I’m still waiting on that amount, Disco.” Doflamingo grumbled to snap the other man out of his staring even as you felt the warlord’s hands starting to rub your hips impatiently.

“Yes, um…well….it’s right here!” Disco finally exclaimed as he pulled the paper out of a stack of others deep within one of the drawers.

Doflamingo easily snatched the document from the other man’s hand. He was just holding it above your back as he read through it next, all the while still stroking your hip distractedly with his other hand.

“Feh. You paid too much. They ripped you off, you idiot.” The warlord scoffed after the quick read, just tossing the paper to let it also flutter to the floor somewhere. 

You could almost hear Disco swallow in a response of fear to that. Even as he tried to explain. “But it’s…relative to current market price, sir.”

“You’re going by last month’s prices!” Doflamingo growled again in return, making the other man shrink back even further. “It spiked last month, but it’s all down again now. And you bought him when it was already going back down. You should be fucking smart enough to anticipate those trends!”

The room was silent for a long moment following that latest outburst. And as disgusting as it was, both you and Disco had something briefly in common then. Because neither of you knew what to do or to expect next from Doflamingo.

“And now we’ll have to eat that loss.” The warlord did eventually continue almost quietly by comparison though. But somehow that dark tone was even worse. Much worse as you finally realized what his real trigger had been all along. “All because this one thinks she can sick her new lover on us.” 

He had heard everything then. He’d snuck in in time enough to catch your phone stunt with Aokiji and made his own conclusions from it. This wasn’t just about the slaves or the business.

This was jealousy.

And as your adrenaline spiked, Doflamingo pulled both your skirt and underwear down in one harsh jerk. Both pieces of clothing then falling around your ankles as you tried and failed to fight him off.

Yes, you’d wanted him again. But not like this. Not when you now realized he was absolutely livid and planning to truly hurt you.

“You can stay, Disco. She needs to learn some new humility I think.” He said to your additional horror, even doubling down in this cruelty as he continued. “Hell, jack off while you watch for all I care. She was just trying to work you over too wasn’t she?”

And Disco, the spineless cockroach that he was, had his tune changing immediately in response to this new development. “Yes. She was being quite a menace before you arrived, sir! She deserves nothing less!” The coward was almost gleeful again then when he realized he might really be off the hook now, and was about to get a nasty show for free as well.

Two sadistic fucks is what they both were in this moment.

You tried to flare your haki yet again in angry desperation. And this time you were actually able to move one of your arms before you felt Doflamingo’s grip squeezing the back of your neck in retaliation. Hard enough to make you feel light headed as he was compressing the blood flow to your brain just as quickly.

“I don’t think she’s going to be too happy with this arrangement though.” You could hear the grin in his voice again as you struggled, your face still pressed so harshly into the papers across the desk.

“And I’d naively thought you’d actually enjoyed our last playdate by the end. But how fickle you are, you dirty bitch.” Doflamingo chided lowly as well. But there was an additional edge to those words. Was he daring to actually paint himself as the true victim here? He was acting as if you deserved every bit of this as he started undoing the drawstrings of his pants.

Your heart was pounding, ribs aching still from where he’d slammed you down as you then heard him spit into his own palm. 

You knew when his cock was free again too as you felt the long member bumping against your nude backside as he stroked himself, lubing the length with that spit as he finished hardening up.

But this wasn’t your only nightmare. As you even had this other, cast off little backbiter to worry about as well then as you could hear Disco’s belt dangerously near your face as he clumsily undid his pants as well.

Doflamingo was just laughing again though at your predicament. He wanted you to be afraid of what he’d allow his subordinate to do to you too didn’t he? He was more than enjoying this.

“I suppose we should give Disco something to look at besides just your pretty face though shouldn’t we, whore?” Doflamingo commented even on top of that. The warlord made you rear back with his parasite ability again, your body then standing up against him as your hands worked on their own against your will once more. 

He was making you strip for them.

You were taking off your coat first. Your weapon and it going to the floor even as you scowled and glared.

With your skirt and underwear already on the floor, this now left just your shirt and bra on. Which of course in another movement of Doflamingo’s fingers, you were then being forced to undo as well.

You could hear the resulting arousal in Doflamingo’s voice too as more of your skin was exposed to his view. That same tone from the warlord which had invaded your dreams for so many nights as you now stood fully nude before both men. Nothing but your boots on.

“What do you say, Disco?” Doflamingo asked, even making you turn a full circle, like a little marionette for them to ogle. “She has such a cute, wet little cunt. Breasts to match, hips to grab…pretty understandable why even admirals are getting in line to ride her…”

“She’d go for a good price, sir.” Disco breathed, sounding different too then as you realized even his smaller cock was also now out in the air while he stroked it with his thighs spread shamelessly in his office chair. 

You didn’t want to fucking see that though as you looked back to the ground in a mix of disgust and embarrassment.

“Well now…you know what else I really think, (Y/N)?” And there was Doflamingo actually saying your name again. But his voice couldn’t have possibly been more spiteful in this moment. “I think that you’d make a very good throw away wife for even a Celestial Dragon.” 

His hands were back on your body then as he bent you forcefully over the desk again. But he was stroking your stomach actually as his hand moved down, his fully hard cock pressing against you now even though he didn’t enter you yet.

He was leaning down too, dark voice heavy as he threatened more with his ideas. “So how’d you like to be fucked raw every morning, noon, and night by a new master?“

He laughed again too at this, as if imagining it already with his hand still oddly on your lower abdomen. His fingers were pressing harder and harder into that skin.

It hurt badly, but what followed was an even different kind of unease as he kept on with this new game.

“They might even decide to breed you too before it was done. And would you like that, woman? You want a brat of your own right? Since you can’t even mind your own fucking business when it comes to someone else’s can you?”

Yes, it was specifically your womb that Doflamingo was now compressing. He knew exactly where it was as he tormented you, further mocking your previous empathy for that slave child.

You knew his goal must be to further dehumanize you here. But it seemed too personal all the same, too easy to rile him with this as you could hear the warlord almost reduced to those panting breaths again as he reached under you to squeeze your breasts next. He was chuckling some more as he pressed that soft flesh of your chest painfully between his calloused fingers. 

“…And if you and I did that, how swollen with milk would these get I wonder?” He still sneered as he thought of it, his hips bucking against you involuntarily then as you whined against the string gag still in your mouth. 

Yes, he was truly getting off on it all. A kink you never would have imagined in someone like him. Or maybe it did make more sense than it should. Here was a true narcissist who thought they had the right to cast and sew their seed wherever they wanted. To taint and claim another person’s body in each and every way.

But Doflamingo as a father though?

The gods help that poor child if they would ever come to actually exist.

“Maybe we’ll just have to find out someday…” Was all he said next though, and as he did, he could finally wait no longer. He did force the head of his massive cock back into you. But with no foreplay this time, no extra care to help stretch you beforehand at all. He just slammed all the way up to your cervix in one harsh thrust.

And even with your mouth covered in those strings, your resulting scream was likely heard by every slave and guard in the backstage area beyond.

You were then trembling against your will, unable to fight anymore against that parasite entrapment. Your eyes began watering with the pain, your face pressed against the desk as you heard Disco moan in return. The auctioneer was thrusting hard into his own hand near your face, almost euphoric for the torture he was now witnessing.

You closed your eyes tightly, tears beginning to soak that paperwork below your face by then as you tried to dissociate from the room entirely. 

They could still have your lifeless shell if they wanted. But you weren’t going to react anymore save for the tears which you somehow couldn’t stop.

It wasn’t just the humiliation or the pain though. This was you hating yourself. Hating how many nights you’d actually thought of this man as if he wouldn’t just rape you again at first opportunity. 

But this is what he’d always been. This was what he always would be. You were delusional to have ever fantasized him as anything more.

Yet he still hadn’t moved since your scream. Even as you still waited for him to start ripping you apart, he didn’t thrust anymore at all.

And when you felt his fingertips across your tear stained face instead, you shivered slightly. An involuntary movement again as you still refused to open your eyes and even look at him.

“Disco….get the fuck out.” Doflamingo spoke so suddenly then. And his voice was absolutely deadly, even with his hard cock still tense against the edge of your wounded cervix.

And you heard Disco’s chair move almost simultaneously, a pathetic whimper from the auctioneer as it did. Even a man like that wasn’t stupid enough to ask questions in a moment like this.

Your breathing was so shallow by then though, body still, as you did hear the office door open and shut again.

For the first time, you felt cold too. No part of Doflamingo was touching you except for his cock inside and his hand that had been against your face.

But those fingers pulled away too now as the heaviest silence hung in the room once you were both alone.

“You make me fucking miserable.” Was the words that actually came out of his mouth next as your wet eyes opened slightly in the shock of that.

He was scowling. No smile at all as the red sunglasses stared down at the mess he’d made of you.

But you did make another involuntary cry of pain against your gag as he unceremoniously slid back out of you then. The pressure spiked briefly as the head of his cock had had to further stretch your already torn entrance one more time on the way out.

With another shift of his hand, the strings finally released your mouth as well. He moved away from the desk entirely then too, leaving you there as you could see him walk to the side of the room.

His pants were still open, cock fully hard as you realized there was an actual sheen of blood over his erection.

Your blood.

He’d completely torn your opening this time as well as bloodied your cervix with the force of the hit.

There was a beverage cart there against the wall. With a pitcher of ice water and other items for Disco. Hand towels were near the bottom of the cart, and you watched as Doflamingo used one to wipe his cock clean before taking another towel to pour some of the ice water over it.

You didn’t understand his intent at first as he now walked back over to you with the cold, wet towel.

“Come here,” He said. But his voice was practically emotionless then, foreign almost. He made you stand, but moved behind you to sit on the edge of the desk himself before he pulled your still naked body up into his lap.

With both of you then on the desk together, and your back against his abdomen, he reached that wet towel in front to start wiping you out between your legs.

It still stung badly of course as you shifted in discomfort. And you could see the initial bright red coming off into the wet towel. But when the thickest of the blood was wiped away, he then held the towel there to keep pressure over where you were still bleeding.

And the two of you stayed like that in silence for what had to be at least several minutes.

“I wanted you to fight back.” His voice finally came out above you again. You could feel his chest rising and falling almost gently now with his regular breathing. “But you just gave up instead.”

“I’m not superhuman.” You answered after another long moment. Not knowing what else to do.

You weren’t foolish enough to consider this conversation any actual sign of guilt or contrition from this man. But whatever he’d expected was clearly not what this had turned into. Hurting you hadn’t done for him what he thought it would at some level at least.

So he now tried just business again first. “If you want us to release that boy, then fine. I don’t give a shit anymore. Disco fucked that up from the beginning.”

But then the heavy silence was right back again. You weren’t answering him.

And he didn’t like it.

“Would you say something already?” He spoke then and you felt him pull you back a little tighter against him. 

For the briefest moment, you actually thought he was the one wanting to be comforted then. Which was the most insane thing you could possibly imagine after what he had just done to you.

“I am not sleeping with Aokiji.” The words just left your mouth when you could think of nothing else in response. Because that assumption had started everything hadn’t it? He’d had an outright tantrum, a warlord level tantrum because of that.

“But you want to.” And Doflamingo’s voice did bristle dangerously, not denying his sensitivity on this. “A woman doesn’t smile the way you did when you were talking to him when it’s anything less than that.”

You were staring at the opposite wall then. Too surprised to properly argue for that moment. Had he been that close as well earlier? And he was really going to judge you for something as involuntary as a simple smile?

But Aokiji was only concerned for your well being most likely. And frankly, who wouldn’t be if they gave even the slightest damn about you at all? You knew you’d been acting a lot differently around everyone after this had all started.

“He’s just worried about me. I don’t have many friends.” You spoke again. But still watching the wall carefully, not knowing at all how Doflamingo would react now.

And he was painfully quiet again. His hand only moved enough to check that towel against your slit, looking to see if you were still spotting into it. When it seemed that you weren’t, he let the towel drop to the floor, splaying his hand out possessively on your thigh instead.

“Then if that’s true, come with me. Take shore leave and stay in Sabaody a few nights. I have a house down the beach from here.” 

His voice was nearly gentle then, but the coil of temptation still darkened it. It wasn’t a kind sound at all.

“I’m on assignment with Vice Admiral Vergo in Tsuru’s absence.” You said reflexively, trying to mask your surprise at the abrupt invitation.

“Heh,” He breathed and you felt his hand wandering from your thigh up your naked torso now. “Then let me sweeten the pot. Stay three nights with me, and every slave under this roof today walks free.”

You immediately turned your head to look up at him in shock at that.

But he was already smiling down at you. “Oh, I’m serious. But it’s absolutely a one time offer. My reputation isn’t tied to this place yet. I haven’t even had them paint my jolly roger on anything here so far while we’ve cleaned house. I just bought it two months ago mainly for the location of course. Prime real estate nestled so close to both Mariejois and Marineford. But I can still spare today’s inventory for a better long term investment.”

He was massaging one of your breasts again now, making it clear that you were said investment that he was speaking of. But he couldn’t help himself either as you felt his cock twitch against your lower back. It was stiffening once more. “Think of how much credit you’d get for that too. The captain that actually set slaves free in Sabaody on some clever legal technicalities. And only in a single morning there. What a negotiator and little hero you’d be.”

“How do I know they wouldn’t just be recaptured later, for it all to be for show?” You did ask, but carefully so.

And he even liked that cynicism too. “Fair point. I suppose you’d have to get them escorted straight to Marineford to sort out later. Otherwise, yes. I’m only saying I’ll release them. What happens after isn’t in my terms.”

You still looked doubtful you were sure, but even a chance for these people was better than nothing. You may be a lot of things, but soulless wasn’t one of them. If you could save even a stranger from a lifetime of that kind of torture and servitude, of course you were going to try.

“I accept.” You said, though still feeling as if you’d been given no other choice.

And he actually encircled his arms around you at that. The pink feather coat easily encapsulating you in his warmth as his cock pressed firm into the small of your back.

“Perfect. I’m sure that little merbrat and the others will tell stories for generations to come of the beautiful marine that swooped in like an angel in their darkest hour.”

Doflamingo was mocking you already again of course, but he was in a much better mood now. A very stark contrast of how livid he’d been when first entering this room.

He was such an overly emotional person really, even on top of all his other faults. 

And though another deal to meet him again soon had already been struck, he wasn’t quite ready to let you go just yet either.

With his height difference and strength, it was always easy for him to move you. So he picked you up abruptly, though not roughly this time as he made you turn around on his thighs.

Now you were almost facing him, sideways in his lap as he sat on the desk edge still with his long legs spread open. Nestled in the warmth of his coat around you both as he took one of your hands and placed it on his hard shaft.

“Go on and jack me off then, angel, so we can get out of here.” He breathed again, making his still intimidating member move a little against your palm.

“You’ll cum everywhere,” You said bluntly though, trying to ignore the new nickname he may have just given you. As if you were anything even close to angelic.

“The mess is part of the fun.” He countered almost playfully. But did stretch his hand briefly out to snap another clean towel from that cart as a string brought the towel instantly up into his grip.

He balled it up and put it in your reach to do as you wished with it.

“Come on. You’re still on duty aren’t you? The clock is ticking.” He pressed, but more for his own impatience rather than any concern for your work status.

Yet you were still a bit overwhelmed. It was honestly the first time you had been free to touch him between his own legs. Having been restrained for most the time before.

But he clearly liked it as you did start to stroke him. He groaned quietly, that bit of precum already forming into a large droplet at his tip.

“You know this is what Disco wanted you to do to him. Either like this or with your mouth of course…” Doflamingo smirked cruelly, but twitching his swollen cock again in your hand all the same. “Harder.” He bid you to squeeze him in between the strokes.

But you immediately frowned at the mention of Disco. Fuck that cowardly man, and not at all literally.

But Doflamingo was starting to shift his hips even from his seated place still on the desk. Thrusting up into your hand as he responded. “Don’t make that face, woman. Threesomes can be a hell of a time with the right company. Trust me though, I’d never really waste you on the likes of him. No matter how pissed off I was. That was strictly a look, don’t touch arrangement. If he’d tried to put that pencil dick on you, I would have ripped his balls off myself.”

That disgusting mental image didn’t make you feel any better of course. But you still said nothing, letting the warlord run his mouth as he so liked to do whenever his energy was high.

“There’s actually someone else I think would appreciate you if I could ever get him to quit being such a stuck up twat anyway. I might have to work on that actually.” Doflamingo grinned more at this even as he started to try and lean down enough to get at your neck.

You didn’t know at all who he might mean as his attention focused back to your throat soon enough though. His teeth nipped you just before he licked the skin there greedily.

But you did really pause as you felt his mouth close on that same wet skin immediately after to begin roughly sucking it.

“You can’t leave marks.” You jerked a little as his teeth pressed down again next. Too high on your neck to be easily covered later.

“I can do whatever the fuck I want,” He admonished you though. Quick to remind you that he answered to no one, even when slipping back into whatever state this was that your presence often put him in.

So he sucked your neck harder of course just to show you. 

You made a noise and he laughed against that already bruising skin. “Oh shut up. I’ll buy you some new shirts with a proper cut. I want to see you dressed up anyway for me. Maybe some diamonds and high heels while I fuck you raw in my goddamn palace, angel…”

And you were almost too slow with the towel. You sensed it coming in the way his breath had hitched in that final taunting. But he’d still covered your hand in that thick white mess as he orgasmed. Which you did put the towel over both his cock and your hand before the remainder pulsed out while he shuddered.

“Mmm.” He did that almost purr like growl, quite satisfied in the aftermath as his hands ran up your bare back, almost massaging you then. “You’re pretty fun after all, woman.”

It was night and day with him. You didn’t know how to explain it. From disgusting violence to almost true affection like the swing of a pendulum. And all in the brief span of just being in this one room together.

“And you can go get your stupid sushi with popsicle dick as an additional reward if you’re so damn lonely. I know you still won’t fuck anyone else until this heals.” And as Doflamingo said that, his hand slipped back between your own legs to very gently rub just the outer lips of your still stinging cunt. It was almost an apologetic touch.

Almost.

“But from now on, I want to know about these things. You’d be surprised how long of a leash I’m willing to give to those that I trust. But that’s the thing…I don’t trust anyone who keeps secrets from me.”

And even as he warned you of this, he was leaning down to kiss you all over again. This time on the lips warmly as you did lean up into it.

Everything was still so very wrong though. You had a brain. You knew what abusive relationships were, and that real love never made violent demands or bargained for control at the expense of self worth at every turn.

But you’d never had real love either. Not from blood family and not from a partner. Yet another hungry orphan from the North Blue was all you’d been. Right up until your thieving ways had gotten you a trip direct into the brig of Tsuru’s ship. It was then either enlist as a chore girl for her or enjoy the continuation of your slow death on the mainland.

You’d heard a saying once too that children who had never been fed love on spoons were doomed to grow up licking it from knives instead.

Surely you didn’t remember the quote exactly now. But this man was a knife if ever you had seen one. And Tsuru was still the closest you’d ever had to the spoon, but was it enough to counteract him?

As his fingers twisted tightly into your hair with another deep kiss, it was hard to imagine anything else surpassing the intensity of emotions this demon still inspired in you.

Maybe you were falling after all. Not exactly in the way Smoker had first said you would through ambition alone. But a burning path to self destruction could be the only end result all the same.

———————————

T⨂  BE 

CONTINUED

———————————

Thanks for reading!

[whoreish-behaviour]

Revenant 9

Pt1 Pt2 Pt3 Pt4 Pt5 Pt6 Pt7 Pt8

App my taglist is 'too long' for tumblr to handle so I will have to post half here and half in the comments <33

Na'vi!Colonel Quaritch x Na'vi!Reader

This is just straight filth, lemme be honest- 1.4k words of head lmaoo

Warnings >~< = M!oral, throat-fucking, finger sucking?, spitting, hair-pulling, mild overstim (not even sorry anymore lol)

Listen trust me 🙏

You shivered as you felt Miles reach down - brushing away the hair from your face and tracing his hand under your jaw, tilting your face up at him.

You were on your knees, the ground cold below you as you swayed your tail left and right, your nerves building as the man above you stared down at you.

'Open.'

His voice was strained as you did as you were told, your full lips opening and inviting him to pressing his thumb flat to your tongue.

He felt the muscle twitch, your eyes blinking up at him and waiting for his order like an obedient puppy.

'Now suck - keep your teeth off and make sure to move your tongue.' He spoke lowly, eyes watching intently as you closed your mouth around his thumb, the pure heat fogging up his brain.

You felt your throat bob as you sucked, your ears perked up in hopes of catching any sort of praise he'd throw your way.

'Good girl princess, keep going.'

Making sure you moved your tongue as he said, you nodded - beginning to suck harder, his thumb sliding deeper and deeper.

Miles felt his breathing grow heavy, sucking in oxygen like it was his last - his eyes glued to the sight below.

You fluttering lashes is what broke him, the quiet hum around his finger as you enjoyed yourself proving too much.

The suction pop! of your lips was audible as he pulled his thumb from your mouth, your eyes now wide and waiting - mouth agape.

You swallowed quickly, adjusting yourself as you watched Miles reach for his belt, his hands enveloping the small buckle - the thing tiny in comparison.

You heard him breath out deeply, throwing open the buckle - thumb and forefinger now on his button.

You inhaled as he opened it, fingers slipping below the band of his shorts and boxers. Sucking your bottom lip into your mouth, you ran your teeth along it.

You felt a pool of saliva begin to collect as you watched him begin to pull down the clothing, more of his blue skin becoming visible.

Shuffling even closer, you leaned towards his hands that were now reaching into his boxers, your eyes widening as he pulled out his cock.

Miles watched as you dropped your lip from your mouth, your eyes glued to him.

He was huge, prominent veins decorating him from the base all the way to the tip - that’s was lighter in comparison to the rest of him.

Smirking, he began to pump himself, hissing when he used to thumb to collect his pre - the same one that was still wet from your saliva.

'Miles, please.' You begged, peeking your eyes up at him.

'Sure you can even handle me, princess?' He chuckled shallowly, your desperation only feeding his desire.

You nodded quickly, your hair moving from you enthusiasm.

'Please?' You tried again, hesitantly moving your hand up to wear his was gripping his cock. Once he didn't tell you to back away, your leaned up higher - mouth watering.

Slowly, he let go - your much smaller one taking over, your fingertips not even touching as your wrapped your hand around him.

'Spit on it.'

Looking up, you nodded once- holding eye contact as you lifted him up, lowering yourself and opening your mouth, tongue poking out.

Starting from the base, you pressed your tongue against him - sliding along the underneath until you reached the pinkish tip.

His groan made your ears twitch, heart jumping in your chest as you swirled your tongue slowly on the head, pulling back slightly and puckering up your lips.

His stomach tensed as your saliva coated him, the tip now shining.

You then took the hand holding the base of him, replicating his earlier actions and beginning to pump - spreading both your saliva and his pre until everything felt slippery and wet.

Feeling a large hand on your head made you look up, hand moving faster.

Above you, Miles looked as though he was loosing his mind - his body tensing and twitching - mouth echoing the filthiest of words and groans.

'That's a good girl.'

‘So pretty down on your knees.’

‘You like it that much? I can see your tail fuckin’ wagging.’

You had done that to him..

With your building confidence, you moved in again - opening your lips and now taking the throbbing head into your mouth.

You whined as his taste hit you, beginning to suck the skin gingerly as more seemed to pour out.

Closing your eyes, you sucked harder and harder, the hand pumping him speeding up until your spit from before began to collect near your suction on him.

Miles threw his head back as he felt your tongue run over his slit, dipping in before swirling around him again.

You felt the hand on you head begin to grasp your hair, your whimper being drowned out by the sickening sucking sounds.

'Come on princess, you can take me deeper than that.' Glancing up at him, you tilted your head to the side, holding eye contact as your took him deeper.

Miles watched as your throat bobbed up and down, groaning out when you lowered yourself on him- tears building up in your eyes but you kept going.

His mind was completely shutting down, stomach constricting as he felt his high approach. You were halfway down his cock, your smaller hand still pumping what you couldn't fit.

'So good for me..' He trailed off, throwing his head back and shutting his eyes as your desperately milked him, both your ears twitching at the obscene noises bouncing off the walls.

'All for me.'

You moaned around him, your mouth and lips completely coated with him - his scent intoxicating your mind as you sped up, tail constantly moving behind you.

Miles sucked in air through his nose, feeling himself getting choked up as his high began to peak, leaning his body over yours - his free hand grasping the edge of the table and the other following your continuous bobbing.

'F-fuck, just like take ..shit!' He screwed his eyes shut as you dug your other hand into his thigh - your claws creating a delicious spark of pain through his body.

'Pull off princess, I'm gonna - Fuck, I'm gonna come.' He ordered, using the grip on your hair to try and pull you back.

He furrowed his eyes brows when you whined, sucking down on him harder and gently shaking your head.

'Fuck's sake, off all times to not listen-' He groaned, shaking his head as he felt his high approach, your whimpering only fuelling him as he tightly gripped your hair in his fist.

You were persistent however, wedging yourself closer to between his legs - closing your eyes as his taste seemed to drug you.

'If you don't pull off, I'm gonna fucking come inside you.' He warned, his hand on the table being his only support as he felt himself crumble from his impending orgasm.

Still, you refused.

Looking down at where you were sat, ready to scold you and your listening skills , he felt his mouth go dry.

He couldn't help but stare as you rocked your hips against absolutely nothing, poor pussy seeking any stimulation it could get.

That was his final straw, his mind completely drunk as his high hit him full force.

Your eyes widened as his hips began to fuck into you, the hand on your head keeping you where you were as his cock slid in and out, moving deeper each time.

You blinked back your tears the the tip nudged the back of your throat, your nails digging deeper into his thigh.

You whined as a warm liquid began to gush into your mouth, your eyes opening halfway as you watched his rocking hips.

You sucked as best you could, his girth now pressing your tongue flat to the bottom of your mouth, making sure your fangs didn't dig, the tips barely grazing.

You swallowed in unison to his thrusts, your head still under his hand while he gripped onto you.

Eventually he slowed to a stop, his pants above your making your eyes bright.

Gently, you moved back - his softening cock leaving the wet cavern of your mouth, completely dripping in your saliva and come.

Blinking up at him, you watched him try and catch his breath - eyes closed. You licked your lips, before taking your chance and moving in again.

He was too busy coming down to notice your movements, only opening his eyes and groaning when he felt your soft tongue again.

He looked down as you lapped your tongue along his base, collecting all the wetness there on your tongue - before sucking it down and moving to the next area, closer to his tip each time.

Closing his eyes again, he sighed out in appreciation, humming when your sharp canines grazed over the sensitive areas.

He felt his body stutter from overstimulation when you reached his head, gently licking away to yourself - eyes hooded and blinks slow.

Once you deemed him done, you pulled away - lifting your hand to wipe your chin with you finger, sucking it into your mouth after.

Feeling the shadow above you disappear, you looked up at Miles as you slipped your finger out with a pop.

You eyes hadn't even fully landed on him when you felt your self being picked up off the ground, your chest colliding his.

You eyes widened as you were now nose to nose, his eyes staring intently into yours - his face soft and ears perked up.

You felt his hands slip under your ass, a hand on each cheek supporting you. You blushed when you felt how exposed you were, the only clothing you had on being your chest piece.

Wrapping your legs around his narrow waist, your hands automatically went around his neck - fingers intertwining.

Miles couldn’t help but be infatuated with you, your gentle eyes blinking at him, lashes thick and long.

Licking his lips, he bounced between gazing at your lips and eyes - leaning in closer, your scent completely enveloping him.

You were the one to finally connect you, your plump lips soft against his - your bodies moving as one.

You whined into his mouth as you felt his hands squeezed you tighter, your nipples sensitive pressed up against his chest.

He didn’t dominate you this time, just enjoyed you being so close, your body practically melting into his as you kissed.

He smiled as continuous waves of air hit his hands, your tail moving rabidly behind you, his own gently swaying behind him.

Eventually you both pulled away, panting softy as you touched foreheads.

Closing your eyes, you basked in his very essence - both your scents mixing in the air as you relaxed against him, moving to rest in the crook of his neck.

You felt him sigh into you, tilting his head to lean it against yours - his breaths arising goosebumps along your skin.

Just as began to drift off, your eyes drooping, you felt Miles gently pat your ass - pulling you back to him and out of your head.

‘Come on princess, let’s get you out of here.’

…

‘Mask on, don’t want you falling sleep and forgetting.’

You nodded lazily, reaching for it around your neck and pressing it to your mouth and nose.

You were both dressed again, the pants on you big and baggy.

He laughed to himself when your grimaced putting them back on.

Miles crossed his arms at your slow movement’s and droopy eyes before sighing - reaching out and overtaking.

You let go as he kept the mask pressed firmly, his other hand reaching for the band as he wrapped it around you head.

Once he was sure it was comfortable and didn’t disturb your ears, he moved away - grazing at your tried face, soft eyes already watching him.

‘Come on.’ He patted his collarbones with one hand before reaching out and grasping your waist.

Once you had wrapped your arms around him, head already nosing your way under his cheek and into his neck, he effortlessly picked you up - your thighs snug to his waist.

He could feel you going dead weight in his arms as he made his way out the room, the hiss of the door making your ears twitch but you didn't budge.

'Such a baby.' He mumbled, smirk creeping onto his lips when you didn't even defend yourself, just hummed quietly - moving in closer to his warmth.

The ship floor was cold against his feet while he carried you, the halls empty as he made his way to where his temporarily assigned room was.

What he wasn’t expecting however, was the sudden appearance of a blue soldier.

Who also happened to be his second in command.

His steps immediately seized, shoulders tensing as Lyle stared at him, eyes wide at his colonel.

It was silent for a beat, neither of the men moving or saying a word - just silently taking in what the fuck was happening.

Clearing his throat, Miles opted to just act as though nothing was wrong with this.

As though he wasn't carrying his hostage, all tucked to his chest.

As though you didn't belong to the race he believed he hated.

'Lyle.' He nodded, before side-stepping the man and continuing on. He didn't stop until he was at his door, entering the keypad and immediately walking in.

He breathed in deep, when the seal on the door was replaced.

Crossing over to the bed, he stood besides it before gently shaking you in his arms.

'____. Princess, wake up.' He tried again, attempting to look down at you under him. You hummed in response, ears perking up as you opened your eyes.

Pulling back slightly so he could see you, you made a noise of acknowledgement.

'I'm gonna sit you down.' He told you, waiting until you nodded in response before leaning over and sitting you on edge of the the cold sheets.

He then turned away, walking over to the small two drawer dresser, sliding it open and pulling out the two navy sweats supplied.

Turning back to you, he watched you rub your eyes as he walked back to where you were sat.

Placing the clothes beside you, he kneeled down and sat on his hutches.

Reaching over, he slid his fingers into the waistband of your pants , thumbing at the button until it popped open and pulling the material down.

'Lift up.'

Once the they were removed, he reached for the sweats - bending over and placing your feet in the holes. Once they were at your knees, he stood up and gently took your hand.

'Stand up for me..' You did as you were told, eyes unfocused as he finished dressing you.

'You can lay down.' You nodded, looking up at him one more time before turning to the bed.

The sheets were thin as you climbed under them, resting on your side and your head on the pillow. You watched Miles as he reached over you and at the wall.

You picked up an audible click and a sliding sound, ears perking up against the pillow.

Rolling over so your back was to him, you gasped quietly to yourself as the ocean came into view.

Propping yourself up slightly, you shuffled closer to the window until your nose was almost pressed up against it, lifting the arm that wasn't supporting you to the cold surface.

You danced your fingertip along the glass, smiling as you watched the waves below crash into one another.

The window wasn't massive in height, but it ran along the entire wall of the small room, your eyes lighting up the more you looked out.

Miles watched you quietly as he changed, slipping off his cargos and pulling the sweats up his legs.

Stretching his shoulders out and clicking his neck, he moved in closer before slipping in beside you. He gave you a few minutes before gently laying his arm across your stomach, wanting your attention back on him.

Looking over your shoulder at him , you smiled - dropping your hand from the window and sliding it under the sheets, your one finger cold as your placed your hand on his forearm.

Laying down once again, you rolled over to face him, chests brushing and his arm unmoving.

You blinked at him slowly, showing him just how safe you felt in this moment with him, moving your tail until it wrapped over his legs, the weight heavy in a comforting way.

Using his arm, he gently pulled you until there wasn't a centimetre between you, noses brushing.

You smiled as you felt his tail moving up until it rested against your thigh, the end soft as it wrapped around you - similar to his arm.

Sighing when you felt your sleepiness seep back in, you rested your head against his collarbones - using the last of your energy to gently rub your cheek against him.

Scenting him.

Feeling his arm tightening around you, the tips of his finger pressing in and keeping you close, you hummed when he smelt of you, ears perked up.

'Thank you.'

Miles felt your smile against him as the Na'vi words left his lips, his head sinking deeper into the pillow below as both your scents swirled in the air.

Before you ask, I KNOW THEY HAVEN'T FUCKED- u gotta wait it's gonna be good 😏

Taglist = @ateandleftnocrumb @namor-is-the-way @kimqueenofhell @simplefools @gremlinfuck @jupekali @cypherpt5fttaehyung @girlblogger2002 @inkareds @apollonshootafar @lovejessejay @applesnbannasss @spookyspecterino @s-sabbas @witxhy-lexx @generational-tragedy @anbanananna @honestlyka @perseny @yuugenmomo @oyasumimosura @hungrhay @darkengene @nin3kyuu @dumb-fawkin-bitch @enslique @kadu-5607 @fourcefulcupid @mangolog @webwix @dakotali @oscarpascal4eva @katkat1918 @deliciousdilfmentality @debesyje @storybug123

[salt-and-a-dash-of-pepper]

My Favorite Moments in God of War: Ragnarok

[Inspired by my favorite moments in God of War 2018]

Spoilers

- Watching Atreus slowly break through the fog with a fresh kill that he hunted himself, a head or so taller than we’d last see him, and clearly much more confident in himself. 

- Atreus and Kratos’s immediate display of affection for each other, in stark contrast to the previous game, with Kratos gripping his son’s shoulder in acknowledgement and Atreus smiling to his father.

- Mimir “sitting” inside of the house, on a pillow with a candle next to him and a book to read and a nice pipe to smoke. He clearly has become part of the family.

- The fear in Kratos’s voice when he searches for Atreus’s after Fenrir’s death

- OH FUCK A HUGE BEAR

- OH SHIT THIS HUGE BEAR IS ACTUALLY BEATING THE SHIT OUT OF KRATOS. HOW CAN A BEAR GO TOE-TO-TOE WITH KRATOS

- OH F U C K IT’S ATREUS

- Kratos shouting Atreus’s name as he lies limp in the snow and you see, for just a moment, Kratos wondering if he has once again killed his own child with his own hands.

- Thor just casually stopping by their house and pouring them some mead

- The way Thor just launches Kratos, just like his brother did in the game before

- The way the ground crackles like thunder when Thor slams his foot down

- Thor shocking Kratos back to consciousness to continue the fight

- The frozen lightning bolt that stays for the rest of the game

- Sindri and Atreus being besties

- Tyr finally standing straight once Kratos snaps some sense into him and he’s towering over everyone 

- Atreus constantly messing up when he’s trying to bond with Angrboda

- Atreus TURNING INTO A WOLF

- Thrúd

- Just all of Thrúd

- “What do I call you?”

- Atreus running into Kratos’s arms and staying there, holding tight, face buried in his dad’s chest even when Kratos lets go

- Kratos’s gentle “What has happened?”

- Kratos standing up for his son when all of the other companions tell him how much of a massive fuck up it was to release Garm

- Fenrir, now resurrected in Garm, and his floppy wittle ears

- “I am sorry.”

- “Do not be sorry. Be better.”

- The bar fight back in Asgard

- Thor actually listening to Atreus and being affected by it. The visible shame Thor felt. Atreus’s honest desire to help.

- Ingrid saving Atreus

- “Which way are we headed?”

- “In the direction of deer.”

- Sindri’s entire character arc, starting from a loveable comic relief character to a bitter, vengeful brother in mourning, unrelenting in his rage towards Atreus and Kratos

- “I AM RAGNAROK.”

-  Thrúd and Atreus making back up in Asgard during Ragnarok

- Atreus pushing his father out of the way during the blast in a final attempt to save him from his prophesized death

- “Does it scare you?”

- “Yes.”

- “That is why you must do it.”

- The HUG 

- Kratos finally crying openly when he sees what his wife painted for him at the back of the mural

[marblemoovt]

Fever - John Price/Reader

Masterlist

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: Fluff, A sprinkle of angst, Dad!Price

Summary:

John pounds on your door at an ungodly hour in the morning. You've never seen him so distraught.

------

“John?! What’s wrong?” you ask, giving him a once over. His hair is a mess, most likely from running his fingers through it too many times. The hallway lights are dim, so it’s difficult to see much else, but you notice he’s carrying a bundle in his arms. Whatever it is, he’s holding it close to his chest, fingers tightly clenching the fabric.

Wavy strands of brown hair peek out beneath the blanket, hair you were braiding just yesterday. Your stomach drops, and you tighten your grip on the door handle.

She’s not?

It feels like you’ve been drenched in ice water. Chills travel down your spine, and you can feel your fingertips prickle with numbness. Your eyes widen, and you look to John for an explanation. But the claws gripping your chest squeeze when you hear him sniffle. 

“I don’t know what to do,” he whispers, voice hoarse. You step forward, but John flinches and caves in on himself.

Note:

Hello! It's been a while since my last Price fic. If I'm honest I'm sorely tempted to keep writing this universe as a series of oneshots (because I'm terrible at commitment). So expect to see more Rose and Price at some point. I've already come up with a series title lmao..

I have a few dividers I want to try out and see which one I like best. So far I like this one better than the previous one.

Happy Reading! ヾ(•ω•`)o

Bam. Bam. Bam

You bolt upright in bed, squinting around your room until you locate the alarm clock on your bedside table. You glance out the window and notice the sky is still dark, and the sun is nowhere to be seen. Not even a sliver of pink or orange to creep over the horizon. Hm. Definitely not your alarm.

BamBamBam.

The noise grows louder, and the pause between hits becomes nonexistent. Your brain refuses to process the source as you sweep your eyes across your room. The early haze that fogs over your mind when you wake up clouds your ability to think.

Until you hear John shout your name. 

Snatching a coat hanging off a chair, you fly out of the room. The floorboards squeak beneath your weight as you weave between your furniture. Sliding to a stop in front of the door, your fingers fumble with the lock before you wretch it open.

“John?! What’s wrong?” you ask, giving him a once over. His hair is a mess, most likely from running his fingers through it too many times. The hallway lights are dim, so it’s difficult to see much else, but you notice he’s carrying a bundle in his arms. Whatever it is, he’s holding it close to his chest, fingers tightly clenching the fabric.

Wavy strands of brown hair peek out beneath the blanket, hair you were braiding just yesterday. Your stomach drops, and you tighten your grip on the door handle.

She’s not?

It feels like you’ve been drenched in ice water. Chills travel down your spine, and you can feel your fingertips prickle with numbness. Your eyes widen, and you look to John for an explanation. But the claws gripping your chest squeeze when you hear him sniffle. 

“I don’t know what to do,” he whispers, voice hoarse. You step forward, but John flinches and caves in on himself. 

A small groan comes from the blankets. “Daddy, you’re squishing me.” 

Your shoulders sag as the tension leaves your body. The weight resting on your lungs eases. You glance up at the ceiling and say a silent prayer of thanks before beckoning the pair inside.

Heading to the kitchen, you prepare some tea to keep yourself busy. No caffeine, though. You were anxious enough as is; you didn’t need to worry faster. Fishing out the chamomile from your cupboards with three cups and saucers, you turn the kettle on to boil. While the tea steeps, you take out the honey and add a drizzle to each cup. 

“Daddy, I’m cold.” Rose’s voice breaks the still silence. You run through a mental list of all the possible things that could be wrong. It can’t be life-threatening if John knocked on your door instead of taking her to the hospital. But you can’t help but think of the worst possible scenarios. The kettle whistles, pulling you out of your thoughts. You’ll ask after you bring the tea. 

A quick glance reveals that John is still cradling her in his arms. The lighting unveils the redness of his eyes and the thin, tight line of his lips. “I know, my little flower. We’ll fix you up, and you’ll be as right as rain,” he says, stroking her head.

You walk over and set the drinks on the table. “Tea? It’s chamomile,” you say, sipping from your cup. The warm liquid soothes your nerves, pooling comforting heat in your stomach. John’s lips quirk up, but they fall just as quickly. He makes no move for the tea. Your cup rattles on the saucer as you place it down. “John, you look like shit,” you state. No response other than a slight flinch. You sit down beside him and hold out your arms. “Drink, you’ll feel better. I can hold Rose for you.”

John studies your face. His eyes are staring past you. It makes you wonder what he’s seeing to make that solemn expression. The movement of you tilting your head brings him back to the present. His gaze flickers between you and Rose. “Ok,” he whispers, carefully placing her in your waiting arms. 

“Hi, Rosy,” you greet her, checking to see if John is drinking his tea. His shoulders aren’t as tense as he sips the drink, but his knee begins to bounce. 

Rose cracks an eye open and smiles widely at you. “Hullo,” she rasps.

You observe her flushed complexion and the hair clinging to her face. “How are you doing, little one?” you ask.

She licks her chapped lips and says, “M’ sick.”

“That sounds like no fun,” you say, exaggerating the frown on your face.

Rose smiles wide and shakes her head slowly. “But Daddy says I don’t have to go to school.” Her eyes glitter at the prospect of staying home, a fantasy most children have at least once during their school years. You can imagine the chaos she could cause if she wasn’t so sick.

You mirror her grin and brush her damp hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “That’s true. You get to stay home and sleep in,” you say, and her smile nearly blinds you.

“And watch cartoons!” she adds. Ah, the quintessential stay-at-home activity for the sick. She starts squirming in your arms. “I get to watch all the shows I miss because of school.” Her lips curl into a feline-like smile, reminiscent of a cat that stole a big, juicy fish. 

You laugh and nod. “That sounds amazing!”

Rose giggles, “That’s because it is!!” If she wasn’t sick, you would be squeezing her in a bear hug. 

You press the back of your hand against her forehead. It’s warm. “Did your dad take your temperature?” you ask.

Rose shrugs and says, “He put a stick in my mouth and told me to hold it there.” She mimics the motion of placing a thermometer in between her lips and closing them. Your cheeks start to hurt; how can such a tiny being be so precious? She must get it from her father. 

You eye the cabinet in the kitchen where you keep all your medical supplies. “Can I check again?” You trust John, but you just want to make sure. 

“Why?” she asks.

“To see how warm you are,” you answer, booping her nose, which scrunches up in response. 

Rose looks at you with her big blue eyes. “Why?” she asks again. You’re glad to see the fever hasn’t affected her curiosity. 

You smooth down her hair, doing your best to flatten the stray cowlicks. “Because it’s dangerous if you’re too hot. You would need to go to the hospital,” you say. 

Rose furrows her brows and utters an “Oh.”

You rise from your seat and head for the kitchen. “Are you comfortable?” you ask. To free up your hands, you shifted her upright, and she’s now clinging to you like a koala.

“Mm,” she mumbles a confirmation into the crook of your neck. You grab the thermometer and turn it on to see if the batteries are still working. On your way back, you fill up a mug of water to keep Rose hydrated. Once seated back on the couch, you bring the thermometer to her mouth, and she lets you take her temperature without a fuss. 

You wait a few minutes until the device beeps to signal it’s finished. “38.8. Not a low fever, but you should be fine with some rest,” you say. Next, you take the mug and hand it to Rose. “Can you drink this water for me?” She drinks every last drop, smacking her dry lips together. “Wonderful! For being such a good patient, the doctor has decided to give you a little treat.” Fishing around your pocket, you pull out her reward. 

Rose stares in awe at the shiny wrapper in your hand. She gently plucks it up and marvels at the strawberries dotting the colourful material. She glances at her dad, but you bring a finger to your lips when she looks back at you. Rose smiles and nods her head, clutching the candy in her fist.

“I’m sleepy,” Rose announces. You look at John and notice that he’s sunk back into the couch, staring into his empty cup.

“There’s a bed in the guest room. I can put on some cartoons for you to fall asleep to,” you suggest.

She nods her head. “Ok.”  

On your way to the guest room, you fill another glass of water to leave on the bedside table. You lay down Rose on the bed, rummaging in the closet for a thin blanket. As you tuck her in, you feel her forehead with your hand. “Do you feel uncomfortable? Do you want to take any medication?” you ask, making a note to grab a damp cloth before you leave.

“You’re like Daddy. Especially when he looks like this.” Rose brings a finger up to each eyebrow and pushes them down, grimacing in a familiar fashion. She bursts into a fit of giggles, and you join in, unable to resist her charming antics. “Daddy already gave me some medicine. It tasted like bubblegum,” she remarks, sticking her tongue out as the rest of her face scrunches up. 

Amusement twists your lips into a smile. “You don’t like bubblegum?” you ask.

Rose shakes her head. “Bubblegum should not be medicine,” she says with a grave tone; it’s the most serious you’ve seen her since she arrived. You head to the adjoining bathroom and run a clean cloth under room temperature water. Wringing the excess moisture, you return to her side and wipe her sweaty skin.

Rose’s eyelids droop; you take this as your cue to leave. “Alright. Your dad and I will be in the living room or in the room across if you need us.” She nods, and you go to turn on the TV, switching to a channel she likes and lowering the volume and brightness.

You tiptoe out of the room, closing the door slowly but leaving a small gap in case she calls out for anyone. When you return to the living room, John is still in the same position. Except now he’s wringing his hands as his cup sits abandoned on the table.

“John?” you call out his name softly, not wanting to startle him. He doesn’t look up at you, and you wonder if he even heard anything. You remain at a distance, observing every flex of his muscles as he fidgets.

“Is she asleep?” he asks in a whisper. His eyes dart to your figure before landing on his lap again. You walk up and gingerly take a seat beside him. John shifts some of his weight onto you, head resting against yours. You can feel the exhaustion emanating from him in waves. He looks like he could fall asleep any minute himself. 

“Nearly. Rose could barely keep her eyes open when I laid her on the bed,” you say. Warmth envelopes your waist as John snakes an arm around you, pressing you closer to his side.

He kisses the side of your temple, murmuring into your hair, “I’m sorry for troubling you like this. I just… didn’t know what to do.” It’s not often you hear his words catch in his throat. You frown at the wobble in his tone and run your fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp in the way you know always has him purring. He hums appreciatively and leans into your touch, eyes closed in momentary bliss. 

“You’re not troubling me at all. Is this the first time she’s gotten this sick?” you ask.

John mulls over your question, his brows furrowed with thought. “First time while I wasn’t deployed,” he answers. John sighs and rubs a hand down his face. “I’m a terrible father,” and his chuckle leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

You pick up the untouched third tea and use it to warm your hands. “What makes you think that?” you ask, fingertips tapping against the ceramic sides of the cup. 

His answer is almost immediate, like he’s been waiting for someone to ask. “Because I panicked.” As if that single sentence encompassed everything he did wrong tonight. 

You frown and set the cup back down, not wanting to break it in a fit of emotions. There’s a strange disconnect between John’s confidence at work and at home. “So? Does being a good father mean knowing everything about parenting? Because in that case, there’s not a single good father in the world,” you say. But your attempts at comfort only cause him to sigh. “Panicking doesn’t always equal death.”

“You know what I mean,” he says. 

You shake your head. “No. No, I don’t, John. I can’t read minds. What I can tell, though, is that you did your best to handle the situation.” If only you could extract your memories and play them for him to watch. Then maybe he would finally see what a good father he really is. 

“It wasn’t enough,” he deflects.

You place a hand on his shoulder and say, “Yes, it was. Rose is sleeping peacefully down the hall. She’s fine.” You emphasize ‘fine,’ but John shakes his head. Doubt swims in his eyes, churning the blue depths into sheets of glistening glass. 

“What about the next time something like this happens?” he counters. You can feel the damped vibrations through the sofa cushions, and you place a hand on John’s knee. 

“Then you use what you learned from the previous times and do better,” you reply in an even tone. The two of you stare in silence. You refuse to look away. John wavers underneath your gaze. His lips remain in a thin line, stretched taut like a rubber band. And what eventually happens when you put too much strain on a rubber band?

It snaps.  

“Can you hold me?” he whispers, and your heart clenches. You want nothing more than to pick up and carry him to your bed for some well-needed cuddles. But John’s a big man. You’re not sure you could do any of that without struggling.

You shuffle onto his lap and open your arms wide. “Come here.”

John buries himself in your embrace, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. “Thank you,” he mumbles. His beard grazes your skin, and a giggle bubbles from your throat. The sound causes John to tighten his arms around you. Is this what stress balls feel like when they’re about to explode?

“No problem. I’ll hold you for as long as you want me to,” you say, patting his back. It’s faint, but the scent of his cologne wafts in the air. Notes of bourbon and the smoke from his favourite cigar brand. You breathe it in, wishing you could bottle it up to use when he’s away.

He chuckles, and the resulting vibrations raise the goosebumps on your arms. “I’m afraid you’ll have to surgically remove me from yourself,” he says, burrowing into you.

“Well, that doesn’t seem like the worst thing in the world,” you wheeze, rubbing the burning tips of his ears between your forefinger and thumb. 

His voice is small, but it reaches your ears in the serene evening. “You still want to stay?” he asks. 

Your lips twist into an amused smile. “Did I ever say I wouldn’t?” You brush your fingers through his hair, fiddling with the grey streaks you find.

“I’m a mess,” he says. 

You nod. “Yeah, a hot one.”

“Darling….” he drawls. 

“Yes, John?” you say, batting your eyelashes, looking like the epitome of innocence. A sudden attack is launched on your vulnerable sides. “Hey!” you screech as John digs his fingers mercilessly into your waist. You attempt to squirm out of his grasp. If you don’t get away in time, your fight instincts might take over from your flight, and John will learn the hard way not to tickle you.

Although you doubt his reflexes will allow anything to happen. The cheeky bastard’s nearly impossible to catch by surprise since he reacts instantly to any objects hurtling towards him.

“I like hearing you laugh,” John admits, the lines on his face relaxing. The warmth in his eyes stirs that familiar fluttering in your chest. A shudder wracks your body when he absentmindedly rubs circles into your hips.

You peck his nose and lean your forehead on his. “Gets the happy chemicals flowing?” you ask.

John hums, “Mmm.” He teases you again with a quick skim of his fingertips, and you bite your lips to keep quiet. Rose is still sleeping, but a small laugh punches through your teeth. John relents his assault, satisfied for now. 

He continues to cling to you like a koala. You think back to what you’ve learned about John since that fateful encounter at the grocery store. “John? Why do you get so insecure when the topic of parenting surfaces?” you ask.

“...Don’t wanna talk about it,” he mumbles. You mentally scold yourself for bringing up a sore subject.

“That’s fine. You don’t have to,” you say.

“What?” John looks at you with wide eyes.

You grin and gently close his jaw before it can reach the ground. “I won’t force you to talk about something you don’t want to,” you say with a shrug. 

“Thanks.” The room falls silent, save for the faint ticking of a clock and the unintelligible murmurs of the TV.

“John, you’re really not that bad.” You trace the bags underneath his eyes, frowning at how puffy they are. 

“Well, I can’t be a bad father if I’m never around,” he chuckles dryly.

You hesitate before asking, “...Is that what this is about?”

“....”

“I know your job takes you away from home often.” You pause and wrack your brain for the right words to convey what you want to say. “But I wish you could see how Rose smiles when I tell her you’ll return in a few days. Or how she hugs her teddy bear—that you gave her—close every night.” Rose’s enthusiasm for her father’s return never wavers, never changes. You’ve babysitted Rose on and off for months now, and every evening, without fail, you hear the recording in the bear play from her room. “Would we like to see more of you? Of course. But I understand, and I think Rose does to a certain degree, that you have responsibilities and duties to fulfill.”

The right side of John’s lips slant up. “Don’t you ever get tired of cheering me up?”

“Nope,” you say, popping the ‘p.’ You stand up and hold a hand out to him. “Now let’s get you to bed, my sad little man.”

“Little?” John chuckles, placing his hand in yours.

“Yeah, 'cause you’re just a sad little guy,” you say.

John blinks slowly and raises his brows. But his expression is soon replaced with amusement. “Is this some kind of internet lingo I’m unaware of?”

“....”

John clicks his tongue. “Your silence speaks volumes.”

You huff and feel like a cat with its hackles raised. “Don’t judge me for how I spend my free time,” you say.

John nods. “Ah yes, reading literature. What were they called again? Fan books?”

“Fanfics,” you correct, tugging him from his seat. “To bed. Now.”

John's eyes crinkle at the corners, and his quiet laughter fills the room. “You don’t need to be ashamed, darling. It could be worse. You could be reading those raunchy romance novels they sell at the grocery store.” You don’t humour him with a response, too busy trying to mask your face with a neutral expression. God forbid John learns about the kinds of things you read in your sacred corner of the internet. “You read the equivalent online, don’t you?” The apples of your cheeks tingle, and your mouth dries.

You clear your throat and begin stacking the cups and saucers. “It’s still late. We need to get some more rest,” you say, setting off at a brisk pace to the kitchen sink. The thud of footsteps follows right behind you. You don’t have to turn around to see how his lips curl into a grin.

“You read those books when you have me?” he asks, mock hurt lacing his tone.

You roll your eyes and set the dishes in the sink; a problem for future you. Turning around, you cross your arms and steel your gaze. “In my defence, some of them actually have a good plot,” you say. John raises a brow, and he does a poor job covering his laugh up with a cough. “Don’t give me that look! Some of them do!” you insist. Literal masterpieces exist on the internet. And they’re free??? Clearly, John’s never binged a fanfic until three in the morning and had an epiphany, only to be left desolate and distraught now that there are no more chapters to be read.

During your internal debate to justify your reading habits, John hoists you over his shoulder and heads to your bedroom. 

“Why don’t you recount your favourite one, and we can reenact it, hm?” he suggests, landing a playful smack on your bottom. You flail your limbs to no avail. The heat on your face could burn through the clothes on his back. John glances over at you with a smirk. “You can be quiet, can’t you, love? You did so well last time.” He caresses the back of your thighs, closing the door behind him with his foot.

At least you get a glorious view of his ass from this angle.

End Note:

Listen, don't ask me why I always end up writing some angst when it comes to Dad!Price. I can't help it, it's just ingrained in his DNA. I do have some ideas as to what happened with Rose's mom, and I do want to eventually write Price coming to terms with his grief. But as always, who knows when I'll get to that.

I did think about dragging this out longer. Originally, Price was also supposed to fall sick the next few days and Reader would be nursing him with the help of Rose. But that would have doubled the length and I just wanted this done so I could move on to the next fic 😅

Now it's on to the next fandom on my list! Alas, I am cursed with too many ideas and not enough willpower to write all of them at once.

I'll see you guys at my next hyperfixation! (。・∀・)ノ

Taglist: @mipitt141, @lovecats123451

[bellaxgiornata]

All These Years [Part 2: "Of Drinking and Dishonesty"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: You met Matthew Murdock unexpectedly at Columbia University and you couldn't deny that there was an instant attraction–for you. But for Matt, you became as close of a friend to him as Foggy did. As the years pass by, your feelings only grow for your best friend, but all you can do is watch as he dates and sleeps with every other woman on campus and eventually in New York City but you.

Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains emotional hurt with no comfort until the final installments, angst, pining, friends to lovers, slowburn, and eventually smut

Word Count: 3.9k

a/n: Enjoy the next little angsty installment for this series! I've been having fun writing a bit more about the college period than expected and our next installment gets angstier. Because who does Matt date in college? Yup. She's here. You can find the entire list of installments for this series here. Feedback is always appreciated if you're enjoying the series as well!

Tag list: @theetherealbloom @rotscinema

“Okay, okay, so I took Punjabi and didn’t learn anything. Big deal!” Foggy said, waving a dismissive hand. “At least I got to talk to that really hot chick in class.”

“But that’s all you did,” Matt pointed out. “You never even managed to get her number.”

Foggy let out a sigh, a faraway look on his face as he gazed just past Matt’s shoulder. You giggled at the sight; you’d heard the story about the girl Fog had taken Punjabi just to talk to many times before, but it never failed to amuse you how little he’d actually learned because he’d been distracted by her instead.

“So what about you?” Matt asked. 

He turned in your direction, leaning his elbows along the table and drawing himself closer to you. Your fingers were fiddling nervously with the beer bottle on the table in front of you, absently peeling the label from it. The way Matt was focused on you with that little grin on his mouth in the dimly lit bar had sent your heart racing, the weight of his sightless gaze on you behind his dark glasses making you nervous. For a moment your eyes lingered on his lips, wondering just how great of a kisser he might be. How it might feel if he just leaned a bit closer towards you and connected his mouth to yours. Or what it would be like to curl up with him in your bed after this, feel his tongue in your mouth and his hands roaming your body instead of someone else’s…

You cleared your throat, shoving those thoughts quickly away. You flushed when you realized you’d been staring silently at Matt, his brows having started to rise curiously onto his forehead at you.

“What about me?” you asked awkwardly.

“I never hear you talk about going on dates or taking classes just to meet a guy,” Matt said, that grin still on his mouth. “I think it’s your turn to spill some embarrassing stories.”

You met Foggy’s eyes on your other side, his smile faltering at Matt’s question. Swallowing hard, your gaze quickly dropped down as you focused on your beer bottle in front of you again. You shrugged in response.

“Guess no one’s caught my eye,” you lied.

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Matt shaking his head. Looking back up at him, you noticed his grin had widened on his perfect mouth. Immediately you frowned at the sight.

“Come on, be honest here,” Matt pressed, leaning even closer to you as one of his dark brows rose up onto his forehead. “You’ve never taken a class just to talk to someone? Or anything like that?”

You exhaled slowly, eyes falling away from Matt. It’s not like you could be entirely truthful here. Maybe you hadn’t taken a class to get to know someone you’d had a crush on like Foggy, or asked for assistance to intentionally get some one-on-one time with someone like Matt had often done. But you had become best friends with the guy you had a thing for. Rearranged your entire schedule to fit his so you could see him almost every day despite how utterly pathetic it often made you feel. 

But you certainly couldn’t admit that .

“Don’t tell me there’s no one you have a thing for,” Matt urged after a moment. “I won’t believe you.”

His arm slid across the table to nudge yours in a friendly, playful gesture. Your eyes instantly dropped down to where he’d touched you, your arm feeling like that single, brief touch had sent a burning fire through your entire body. But when your eyes darted back up to Matt’s face, your attention was drawn to just over his shoulder. There was a young woman in a group of a few others back at the bar, and it was obvious how her attention kept shifting back to Matt, checking him out.

Shoulders slumping, your head dropped low as you focused back on your beer bottle. That jealous, dejected feeling washed over you. It was one you’d become familiar with lately, feeling it whenever Matt was flirting, or being checked out, or out on a date, or clearly out having sex with someone. 

“Not anyone who’d ever notice me,” you muttered.

“Oh well now I’m sure that’s not true,” Matt said good-naturedly. “How could someone not notice you? You’re amazing. Right, Fog?”

Your head flew up, eyes going wide at Matt’s compliment. He’d called you amazing. Matt had never said anything like that before about you. Your mind suddenly was spiraling in a different direction for once, thoughts quickly running through your mind one after another.

Could Foggy have been right? Was it possible Matt maybe did have an interest in you? Maybe all this time all you’d needed to do was just tell him how you felt. Maybe he’d never asked you on a date before because you weren’t forward with your feelings like all of the other women who’d very openly flirted with him. 

Maybe it was just as simple as that.

“I tell her that all the time,” Foggy agreed easily. “And I’m sure whoever this guy is sees it, too.”

He shot you a pointed look before his eyes darted meaningfully across the table to Matt. Slowly your gaze followed where Foggy’s had, attention returning back to Matt. He had focused back on you as well, that beautiful charming smile of his on his mouth. Biting your lip, you contemplated thinking up some way to just tell Matt how you felt here and now and put everything out there in the open. Especially before the girl making eyes at him could come over and steal him away for the night. But before you could open your mouth, Matt was continuing on.

“You should really give yourself more credit,” he told you. “Any guy would be lucky to take you on a date.”

Hope was quickly rising in your chest, your body suddenly feeling weightless. “You–you think so?” you asked him cautiously.

“Absolutely,” he answered, one hand coming up to readjust his dark glasses on his nose. “You’re a sweet, intelligent girl. And you’re funny as hell. Honestly, I was not expecting you to be as hilarious as you are.”

“Yeah?” you asked.

Beside you, you noticed the way Foggy’s wide eyes were darting back and forth between you and Matt like he was just waiting for the moment one of you admitted feelings or something. It felt like your stomach was filling with hundreds of anxious butterflies all flapping about inside of you as that hope only bloomed further in you. 

“Oh, definitely,” Matt said with a nod. “You’re like a female Foggy. Which is high praise, because Foggy is the absolute best friend anyone could ask for.”

Instantly you deflated as if Matt had just punched you in the gut. 

You’re like a female Foggy.  

…the absolute best friend anyone could ask for.

Mouth dropping open, you sat there dumbfounded and hurt. Every ounce of hope that maybe you’d misread the situation–maybe he didn’t see you as just a friend–immediately dropped into your half finished bottle of beer and drowned. Your chest felt hollow as Matt’s smile briefly faltered before you. 

Attention returning back towards Foggy on your left, you saw him shooting you that all-too-familiar sad smile again. You wanted to crawl under the table and cry at the sight of it.

“You’re both suddenly really quiet,” Matt pointed out, his tone a bit nervous. “Did I–I say something wrong?”

You couldn’t look at him, your gaze dropping yet again to the table before you. Tears pricked at your eyes as you tried to fight them back, clearing your throat as you blinked hard a few times. 

“No,” you answered softly. “Thanks, Matt.”

“You–you sound upset,” he pointed out. “What’d I say wrong?”

“Dude,” Foggy began immediately, “you just told her she was best friend material when you were supposed to be giving her encouragement that she is more than that.”

“What? No,” Matt said quickly.

Your eyes caught sight of how fast his head turned in your direction out of your peripheral. That hollow feeling felt like it was only growing in your chest the longer you sat here. Maybe you should just call it a night and head back to your dorm before it swallowed you whole.

“That’s not what I meant,” Matt said earnestly. 

He said your name, his hand reaching out and feeling along the table before it eventually landed on your wrist. Your eyes snapped shut, your jaw clenching at the contact of his skin on yours when his fingers encircled your wrist. It wasn’t helping.

“Hey, I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to say you were just friend material,” he continued. “That’s not what I meant. It came out wrong.”

“It’s fine, Matt, I get it,” you whispered, your voice breaking slightly.

“No, hey, I’m sorry. I’m an idiot,” he said in a rush, his hand holding tighter to your wrist. “Please don’t get upset. I just meant you’re a really great person, one of the best I’ve ever met. I’m sorry, I didn't mean it like that.”

“Yeah, alright,” you said with a nod, desperate for him to just stop.

“How about this,” Matt said, his tone picking up to something brighter, “you bring me with to meet this guy, and I’ll be the best wingman ever." 

You slipped your wrist out from Matt’s hold, no longer interested in sitting here and finishing your beer. Walking home in the cool evening and crying sounded vastly more appealing. Abruptly shoving your chair out, the legs of it making an irritating screech along the floor that was audible over the pop music playing, you slipped out of your seat.

“You heading back already?” Foggy asked, that knowing look on his face.

“Yeah, early class tomorrow,” you answered.

“Wait, hang on,” Matt said, pushing his own chair back as he turned in his seat towards you. “If you’re leaving because I upset you, I’m sorry.”

You sighed, pushing your chair back into the table so he wouldn’t end up tripping over it when he inevitably got up. “I’m leaving because I have an early class in the morning, Matt,” you deadpanned.

Your eyes caught the brief twitch of his eyebrows on his forehead as if he somehow knew you were lying. He opened his mouth to speak but you cut him off before he could try to apologize yet again. That, too, wasn’t helping. 

“I’ll see you guys later,” you said quickly, shooting Foggy a wave as you took a step back.

“Dining hall for lunch tomorrow?” Fog asked hopefully.

“Sure,” you answered, shooting him a tight smile. Turning, you muttered under your breath, “If I even have an appetite by then.”

Weaving your way through the fairly busy bar, you eventually made it to the exit. You pushed the door open, stepping out into the chilly late spring evening. You felt a bit of the tension easing from your body already, the street noise of the city vastly preferable to you than being in Matt’s proximity right now. You couldn’t sit there any longer listening to him apologize to you for viewing you as only a best friend. 

You were an idiot to have thought there was hope for something more between you both. Of course he was only saying nice things that a friend would say to another friend to make them feel better and build them up. It was the same thing he’d probably say to Foggy if he was interested in a girl. How stupid you were to think of it as anything else. 

Any guy would be lucky to take you on a date.

You laughed bitterly at his comment, your arms hugging tight to your chest as you made the short trek back to campus and towards your dorm. Any guy except for Matt would be lucky to take you on a date, that’s basically what you gathered this evening. Matt was probably going to be hit on by that girl at the bar in a matter of minutes. You were positive he’d end up in either her dorm or his shortly afterwards. But you were not someone Matt would take on a date.

A frown twisted your mouth downwards, tears stinging at your eyes. You didn’t want to think about yet another conquest for Matt. It felt shitty that Matt would sleep with almost any girl on campus except for you. Not that that’s all you wanted from him–because you wanted vastly more than to just fuck him–but it made you feel like there was something wrong with you. 

Why weren’t you good enough? What was so different about you that Matt didn’t want you like he did with those other girls?

A tear slipped down your cheek and you reached a hand up, wiping it away. Seconds later you heard your phone ringing in your pocket and your frown deepened. You reached down, pulling it out and looking at the caller ID. Matt’s name was on the screen. Your eyes closed as you came to a stop on the sidewalk. You didn’t want to talk to him, why the hell was he calling you?

For a minute you considered letting his call go to your voicemail and ignoring it. You could always just tell him later that you’d had it on silent and didn’t realize he’d called until the next morning. How would he know you were lying? 

But you felt guilty at the thought of ignoring him just because he’d unintentionally hurt you. It’s not like Matt could control who he was or wasn’t attracted to. That wasn’t his fault. With a sigh you flipped the phone open, bringing it to your ear.

“Hey, Matt,” you answered, trying to keep the waver out of your voice.

He greeted you with your name, his voice sounding a little out of breath. You frowned.

“What’s going on? Something happen at the bar?” you asked, brows furrowing.

“No, not exactly,” he answered quickly. “Fog saw this girl he likes there. I think her name is Marci? Figured I’d leave him to it and check on you, actually. Which is why I called. How far from the bar did you get? I was trying to catch up.”

Biting your lip, you turned on the spot, stepping out of the way of a small group of college kids walking past you. A little ways back you could make out Matt’s form heading down the sidewalk towards you, his cane tapping away in one hand, his other hand holding his phone to his ear. Shoulders dropping, you realized you were going to have to walk back with him. Which was the last thing you’d been wanting to do right now.

“You didn’t need to leave on my account, Matt,” you told him.

“You seemed upset, I didn’t want you to walk back alone like that,” he replied. “So how far away did you get?”

Sighing, you began walking back the way you’d come. “I can see you, I’ll just turn back around and meet you in a minute,” you said.

Both of you exchanged goodbyes before you hung up, slipping your phone into your pant’s pocket before you once again uncomfortably wrapped your arms around your chest. It took you about a minute to reach Matt and you greeted him once you did, watching as his head darted in your direction. That damn charming smile slipped onto his face instantly and you hated the way it made you feel.

“Was hoping I’d manage to find you,” he greeted you back.

“Congrats,” you muttered. “I can walk you back to your dorm, if you want.”

“Well now that defeats the purpose of me walking you back to your dorm,” Matt countered cheekily.

You rolled your eyes, unable to fight the small smile snaking its way onto your lips. Reaching out, you placed Matt’s outstretched hand in the crook of your arm. His warm fingers curled around you, that hollow pit in your chest suddenly growing larger as you began to guide him back towards campus. 

For a little bit neither of you spoke, your body tense as Matt held onto you while the pair of you walked back towards your dorms. His cane tapping along the pavement mixed with the noises of the city, the sound lingering heavily over the pair of you.

“Are you okay?” Matt asked, eventually breaking the silence.

His question caught you off guard, your lips pressing together as Columbia came into view. Once again, it’s not like you could be truthful with Matt. You couldn't tell him you had feelings for him–had them for months–and that him calling you a female Foggy had deeply hurt you. You’d only embarrass yourself and ruin your friendship with him.

“Yeah,” you answered.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw his head turn swiftly in your direction. Your teeth ground together under the weight of his attention. 

“Can you be honest with me this evening?” he asked.

“Who says I’m not?” you countered.

“Because I know you,” he answered immediately. “You sounded close to tears earlier before you left the bar. You’re not telling your usual jokes or laughing. You’ve been pretty quiet most of this evening, especially during this walk. You’re just giving brief responses when I know you love to talk.”

Your eyes remained fixed on the sidewalk before you as you led the pair of you down a different path, one that would bring you towards the residence halls. Internally you cursed Matt and his astute observations. 

“Was it what I said at the bar?” he pried. “Because I didn’t mean it like that, I swear.”

“Can we please stop talking about that already?” you snapped.

Heat flooded your cheeks immediately after your outburst. You hadn’t meant to snap at him, but you were tired of hearing his apology. And you certainly didn’t need to hear him offer to be your wingman again.

“So it was what I said,” he replied. 

His head turned, his attention once again on you as you both continued to walk. Your gaze remained fixed ahead of you, though.

“Why did that bother you so much?” he asked gently.

“Because I–” you stopped instantly, unsure of how to navigate this conversation without giving everything away. You sighed, shaking your head. “Because I’m always the friend,” you admitted weakly, tears stinging at your eyes again. “And I don’t understand what’s wrong with me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Matt said earnestly. “Why would you even think that?”

You shook your head, glad when you saw your building coming into view. You were desperate for an excuse to get out of this conversation. Especially because you felt the threat of tears growing stronger.

"It doesn't matter, forget I said that," you replied.

Matt pulled you to a stop on the sidewalk instantly. Surprised, you turned towards him, beginning to blink back the tears threatening to spill forth.

"It does matter if it's got you this upset," he pushed. "I meant what I said earlier. Any guy would be lucky to take you on a date. And if whoever this guy is has got you feeling this down on yourself, he's probably an asshole."

You couldn't help the humorless laugh that fell out of you. Little did he know he'd just called himself an asshole and you couldn't help but see the humor in it. The sound of your laugh only caused Matt’s brows to furrow though, his fingers tightening their hold on your arm. 

"What?" he asked. "Why is that funny?"

Because it's you, you idiot.

"It's not funny," you answered instead. "I just feel stupid."

He said your name softly, shaking his head. "Hey, you're not stupid" he assured you.

You couldn't stop the tears that fell, that ache in your chest only deepening with every nice word from his mouth that didn't mean what you desperately wanted it to. Matt's head tilted to the side at your silence, but the moment you couldn't fight back a choked sob, he was quickly pulling you in towards him.

One of his arms wrapped around your back, the other gently drawing your head towards his solid chest, cradling you carefully against him as his fingers lightly stroked their way through your hair. Your own hands easily wrapped around him, holding tight to him as you cried into his shirt. His hand along your back began rubbing a soothing pattern, managing it somehow even with the cane still held in his hand. His comforting presence only had you fisting his shirt tighter in your hands as you became overwhelmed with your emotions, crying harder when you felt him rest his chin along the top of your head. Somehow his hands held you even closer to himself. 

You'd often imagined what it would feel like to be in Matt's embrace so many times before; what it would feel like to be in his arms, breathing in that warm, familiar scent of him. But you’d never pictured it like this. Never because you were crying over not being able to be with him while he unknowingly comforted you for it.

"Maybe he's not the right guy," Matt whispered. "If he can't see how great you are, maybe he's not the one worth feeling like this about."

"He's not an asshole though," you choked out, voice muffled against his chest. "That's the thing."

"You'll find someone," he assured you. "Someone who will see every wonderful thing about you. Someone who won't make you feel like this about yourself."

"He usually doesn't," you muttered. 

"Usually doesn't what?" he asked softly.

"Make me feel like this," you said, turning to rest your cheek against his chest. "Usually he makes me feel good. Happy." Your fingers tightened their hold around his shirt as you sniffled. "Special. But–but he doesn't know how I feel and I am positive he doesn't feel that way in return. And that's what hurts."

"How do you know if you don't tell him?" Matt asked.

Matt’s words at the bar ran through your mind again and your eyes snapped shut. 

You’re like a female Foggy.  

…the absolute best friend anyone could ask for.

"Believe me, I know," you answered stiffly. 

Forcing yourself to release your hold on Matt, you stepped back as he untangled his hold on you in return. You wrapped your arms uncomfortably around yourself yet again, your attention on your feet. 

"Sorry, this was stupid," you mumbled. "I can finish walking to my dorm myself, Matt. But thanks for uh, trying to help."

He took a step towards you, concern clearly written on his face. "I can walk you the rest of the way. It's not–"

"I want to be alone," you told him firmly. 

He stared at you in silence for a moment before he finally nodded. "Okay," he replied. "I'll see you tomorrow though, right?"

You sighed heavily, eventually nodding. Because you knew you were too weak to give Matt up. You knew that despite how much it hurt to see him with other women all the time, the thought of him permanently missing from your life hurt worse.

"Yeah, I'll see you tomorrow, Matty," you whispered. 

Turning, you made your way down the path towards your hall, tears still silently streaming down your cheeks. You ignored the stares of passing students, wiping away the dampness on your cheeks with the back of your hand as you walked. 

These feelings would eventually fade. They had to.

[catpriciousmarjara]

DP X DC

Ao3

The Job Offer

"And why not you?", said the man. "You're intelligent, skilled, and adaptable. Most importantly, you're entertaining. That last part becomes very important when dealing with my kind".

A ring glinted in the dim light as he gestured with his hands. "Plus, there wouldn't be any danger in the first place! Our lot tend to stick to the Rules, you see? And not harming the messenger is most certainly a Rule".

A sip of coffee. Eyes filling with mirth.

"In the off chance that someone did take offence, all you have to do is amuse them for a while, and as I said, you're very good at that. But don't worry, they won't take offence".

Dick Grayson, attention still half focused on the vicious black claws on the man's hand, had to ask, "And why won't they?"

The man's pleasant smile didn't falter. But it did slowly morph into a grin with way too many teeth to be normal. The young vigilante had to suppress a shudder.

When the man?it spoke, the voice resonated. "Because you'll be one of mine. And they won't dare touch what's mine".

The teeth gleamed.

And just as abruptly as it shifted, the air changed, the pressure lifted, and the man was smiling once more.

Dick was left off-footed and tightly clutching the arms of his chair, his breath fogging in the still frigid air. He hadn’t even noticed the temperature dropping.

He looked at the man nonchalantly sitting across from him as if he hadn't just taken years off of Dick's life. The vigilante was not one to scare easily. Yet, mere moments ago, Dick had felt a fear so primal that it was maddening. It was not the kind of fear a human being could evoke, no matter how frightening their actions may be. Dick had seen the worst of Gotham, and Gotham was a cesspit on a good day. But he hadn't ever felt like this before today. If there was ever a question about the humanity of his companion before...well it was answered now.

To be honest, he couldn't quite recall how he got here in the first place. Everything was a blur.

No...not quite. His memories were alright, it's just that his mind couldn’t grasp them. 

And every second in this...space, had felt muted. As though he was lying beneath several layers of sheer fabric; he could somewhat feel things, see things, but his senses were muffled.

The spike of fear from before wasn't him breaking through as much as he was allowed to break through, and now he was safely back beneath the dampening cloud once more. It was almost comforting.

Dangerous.

Dick only remembered what had happened in bits and pieces. Being fired from Robin, the legacy he had forged for himself, named after his mother's love, and garbed in Grayson colours.

Being angry and distraught. Not knowing what to do.

It had taken him weeks to reorient himself. A month to gather his composure.

He vaguely recollected a cafe in Jump City. He had been sitting in a booth, contemplating his options...

Someone had sat right across from him, right?

He had looked up…

“Hello. May I sit here?”

“...Sure. Go ahead.”

“Daniel Nightingale.”

“...Richard Grayson.”

" I know. You shouldn’t give out your name so freely by the way. Also, could I have a bit of your time?"

"Um...yeah, sure?"

“Perfect!”

And the next thing he knew, he was Here.

Wherever here was.

(Why had he said yes then? He would never have done that normally.)

At first his mind had been adamant in believing that here was the very same cafe he had been sitting in. But Dick wasn't trained by the man known as the World's Greatest Detective for nothing. However, it had taken him an embarrassing few moments to start noticing the abnormalities.

For one thing, he had been sitting in a booth in a cafe, not at an ornate wooden table, much like the one in Bruce's home office. The only thing the cafe table and this one had in common was that they were both rectangular.

Secondly, their table was covered by a veil. A huge gauzy one hanging from above. But try as he might he couldn't see where it was hanging from, just a yawning darkness.

Finally, he could see shadows moving beyond the veil, and the more he looked, the more bizarre they became. And at one point, the shadows lost all pretence of humanity. They weren't even humanoid, let alone human.

He definitely wasn't in Jump City anymore.

It had taken him even longer to notice the man sitting across him. That he hadn’t left this Daniel Nightingale behind.

Wispy white hair.

"Ah! You noticed so quickly. You really are the perfect fit for the job!"

Green. green eyes.

"Apologies for the veiling. It's necessary however.., some things are not just meant for mortal eyes, you see. Without it, you might just go insane! We wouldn't want that now would we?"

Unnaturally pale skin.

"Enough dillydallying! But first, introductions. You may call me either Daniel or Nightingale. By what name would you prefer to be called?”

Something about that question made the ex-Robin’s hindbrain pay attention. The wording of it, the tone…

You shouldn’t give out your name so freely by the way.

Could I have a bit of your time?

Something had felt incredibly off, so he had gone ahead and given one of the alternate names he had been thinking of taking up now that Robin was over.

“You may call me Nightjar.”

Nightingale had looked incredibly pleased then. And a bit smug too.

“Let me cut to the chase then Nightjar. I’m here to offer you a job. You’re a perfect fit for the role. We offer excellent compensation, and flexible work hours. Considering you’re out of work now that you’ve been fired from Robin, I believe my offer would be interesting for you.”

For some reason, perhaps because of all the strange things that happened, the fact that Nightingale seemed to know his alter ego hadn’t surprised Dick. Instead of asking how he came to know about this particular information, including the fact that he got fired, he decided to keep the conversation rolling on this supposed job offer. He had an inkling that he won’t get anywhere even if he asked, so might as well mine some information by making the other man talk.

“What kind of job is it? And what exactly would be included in the compensation?”

In response the man had snapped his fingers, and produced a file out of nowhere. He opened it, turned it around and slid it across the table. Dick started. Nightingale made a go ahead gesture, a smile on his lips once more. Dick gingerly dragged it a bit closer, and took a look.

“As you can see Nightjar, the position being offered is that of a courier. Due to many reasons, delivery across the realms is a cumbersome affair, not the least due to political complications. The best system to lay down in this situation was to have an impartial party be in charge of the work. You can say that I am a representative of the aforementioned impartial party that took over the role. If you would turn a page over-

Dick had dutifully turned the page.

-you’d see that we offer great compensation. In addition to your salary, you’ll receive health insurance, life insurance, death insurance, medical insurance, dental, vision care insurance, paid vacation time, overtime pay, paid time-off, flexible time-off, paid medical leave, free medical care, maternity leave, paternity leave, all other forms of parental leave, a good retirement package, loan assistance, wellness programmes, child care assistance, regular bonuses, promotions, raises, accommodation, a provident fund, and a whole host of other benefits that are clearly listed on the page. And of course at the end right there is our offered starting salary, which is highly negotiable up to the amount listed right below it. Please take as much time as you need to read through them.”

To say Dick had been overwhelmed was an understatement. He hadn’t thought that this was going to be an actual, honest to God job offer. If anything he just thought the entire job thing was an excuse or prelude to something much worse. But as he parsed through the file, getting increasingly bewildered as the man rattled on, he had to admit that this really looked like a weird recruitment effort. And then his eyes had fallen on the salary figure, and the amount to which it could be negotiated upwards, and he froze. Because even for the ex-ward of a billionaire, it was a ludicrous number. He couldn’t even accurately count the zeros on the thing. Even Wayne Enterprises wouldn't be able to match a deal like this. 

At that thought Dick had felt a pang of pain as he remembered Bruce still hadn’t called him, or even made an attempt at apologising. There were no texts, no missives. Just radio silence. The pain in his chest increased and Dick had felt the ever returning feeling of being unmoored. He pushed those feelings to the furthest corners of his mind. He had to focus now.

Feeling marginally calmer, he had taken a deep breath and closed the file. He looked up at Nightingale who had been watching him avidly over the rim of a coffee cup which definitely wasn’t there before, and asked the most pertinent question.

“Why me?”

And now they are here.

Dick scoffed at the white haired being’s answer. Oh he didn’t doubt that it was the truth. By now he had somehow come to an understanding of how this worked. It was fae rules. Meaning he had to watch his mouth. Similarly Nightingale won’t lie, but he can certainly obfuscate.After all withholding information wasn’t technically a lie, especially if it was masked with a half-truth. In other words, Nightingale hadn’t lied, but that wasn’t all there is to it. And Dick wasn’t going to let it slide. 

“How am I supposed to believe you to be a good employer if you’re already lying?”, he asked outright. You know, like a reckless fool.

Nightingale’s pleasant smile instantly froze, and then it gained an edge. A sharp, lethal edge.

“I don’t lie”, the man said, a cold cadence to his voice.

Dick could feel the figurative whetted blade on his throat, but he pressed forward. This was the first time he had taken blood in this fiasco and he wasn’t going to concede just like that.

“Lying by omission, is still lying.”

Nightingale’s entire mien darkened, and frost spread across the table. Dick didn’t back off. 

There was silence. Suffocating silence. And then the vergals receded and Nightingale sat back with a satisfied air. Dick blinked in surprise.

“Good. You didn’t cower.”

Dick sat back on his own chair, his breath fogging in the still cold air. “Was that a test?”

Nightingale took another sip of his coffee. Was it even coffee? It looked like coffee, but who knows what anything is in this bizarre space. Certainly not Dick.

“It was a test. The position of a courier in this part of existence requires mettle, and a strong mind. You would be dealing with beings ranging from the divine to the demonic. I’m sure you know they are a stubborn lot. You’ll have to stand up to them often. Plus you would be representing Us. We can’t have an unprincipled, craven fool take the job can we now? So I had to test you. Congratulations! You passed with flying colours.”

Dick glared at the man. “I still haven’t agreed to anything. And you still haven’t told me why I was chosen.” 

Nightingale chuckled. It was an unnatural, but pleasant sound. “Aah you caught that. Very well then.”

He clasped his hands together and put them on the table, bringing Dick’s attention to the black, razor sharp claws once again, as well as to the extremely ominous ring he wore on his left hand’s little finger.

“You were chosen because you are a multiversal constant. This job requires much interdimensional, interuniversal travel, and a multiversal constant is ideal for the role. And before you ask, a multiversal constant is essentially someone whose soul acts as a consistent axis across worlds through indelible aspects of their existence. They are rare, and their axial quality makes multiversal travel easy for them.”

The white haired entity’s eyes shone in the dim light. “You are a multiversal constant Nightjar. Centred around your potential, And also, I know you will agree to do the job. So I’m not worried.”

Even as he struggled to process what was just revealed, Dick found the energy to scowl at the impishly grinning man. “And how would you know? What’s in it for me? All I’m seeing is a job, the benefits of which, doesn’t make up for how dangerous it is.”

“But you will accept it nonetheless”, replied Nightingale with an amused air. “Think about it. You’ve been fired from Robin but still intend to continue being a vigilante, and vigilantism is expensive work. Now that you don’t have the Wayne coffers to pull from, you would have to find alternate means to acquire resources. You’re brilliant and I have no doubt you will find those resources and do spectacularly under your new mantle. But that would take time. And calling in favours that could either be used somewhere else, or make you indebted to someone. The salary this job provides you will allow you to finance your quest for justice, and still have plenty leftover. Not to mention the other benefits, such as the free medical care provided by Us, people who will never question your injuries the way a normal hospital might, or put your civilian identity at risk like a back alley doctor.”

Nightingale’s verdant eyes stared a hole through Dick as he spoke. “You wanted to get out of Batman’s shadow. This is your chance, Nightjar.”

The young vigilante had to give it to Nightingale. The man sure knew how to pitch an offer. He found himself agreeing to most of what Nightingale said, especially the finances part but he still wasn’t going to agree to a job that would put him in the crosshairs of gods and demons. That was just monumentally stupid.

“You make good points”, Dick said as he slid the file sitting idle on his side to Nightingale. “But I’m still not gonna agree.”

Nightingale slid the file back over to him without missing a bit.

“If I thought you were the type to easily capitulate I wouldn’t have approached you in the first place,” the man said, not a single sign of ire at Dick’s repeated refusal in his voice. In fact he seemed rather glad Dick was being difficult.

“You want to know more about being a multiversal constant correct? That is not the kind of information you’ll find lying around on earth.”

A pitch black claw scraped across the table, but there was no noise, and the deep scratch left behind instantly stitched itself back together, the tabletop pristine once more.

“By now you must have a rudimentary idea of the world you are being invited into. You would not have called yourself Nightjar otherwise. You also know that this is not a world Batman has access to.”

The man pointed opened his right palm, still resting on the table, and brilliant emerald fire blazed to life on it. Something in Dick’s lizard brain told him this fire ran cold rather than hot.

“Magic and everything associated with it is not something the Dark Knight can handle by his usual methods. And magic is just one of the aspects of our Realm. An infinite more mysteries keep it company. This world is yours for the taking. No mortal would be able to access what you can and you would be able to help so many people.”

Blue eyes met green.

“This will set you apart from Batman once and for all. An identity that no one can take away from you at their whim. Just think of this as your day job, as being a CEO is for Bruce Wayne.”

Nightingale clasped one of Dick’s hands resting on the table and transferred the fire over to it. Dick stared as the flame danced merrily in his palm. It really was cold. By the time he had his wits about him, the fire had vanished. Nightingale had seemingly finished his coffee, as the cup was nowhere to be seen. 

Dick glanced at the white haired man who watched him calmly. Then he took the file and started reading through it. If he was going to take this job, he was going to make sure to read the fine print. Out of the corner of his eye, he could spy Nightingale’s gleaming, triumphant smile. Dick couldn’t help but feel annoyed. 

He didn’t know how much time it took for him to read the file completely. Time ran strangely in this space. What he did know was there was an ornate, silver pen right next to him, which definitely wasn’t there before. He had to roll his eyes at Nightingale's antics. 

Nonetheless he uncapped it, admiring the craftsmanship for a moment, and signed on the dotted line in his Alfred approved best cursive, bells, whistles, hoops and all. 

Nothing happened. Dick felt kinda disappointed. He had thought signing a magical contract with a possible fae creature would be a little less anti-climactic. Across from him, Nightingale chuckled as if he could read his mind. Could he?

He slid the file over once more, this time for last. Nightintingale just skimmed through before sliding over an envelope. 

“Your appointment letter”.

“You had that ready?”

“Of course.”

Dick snorted inelegantly at that. Obviously the man had foreseen how this would go. That should make him more wary than what he was feeling, but just as he had known the fire was cold before, he knew Nightingale wouldn’t harm him. Bruce would call him an idiot for this kind of illogical thinking, but Bruce wasn’t here now was he?

He was about to shove another medley of complicated emotions down, when Nightingale reached over and viciously ran a claw down his right arm. Blood spurted in a gruesome display and Dick scrambled back, chair falling down, and his body hitting the surprisingly sturdy veil.

“What was that about?”, he shouted as he clutched his bleeding arm to his chest. Just when he had thought the man didn’t mean him any harm…

Nightingale had the audacity to look nonplussed. He simply brought his palms up as if to show he meant no harm, but it was a moot point when one of his claws was dripping with Dick’s blood.

“Just testing something”, the man said calmly.

“Testing what?’, Dick asked angry and confused.

In response, Nightingale simply pointed to his arm.

“What? Testing whether your claws could tear me apar-”

He stopped short. There, before his eyes, the flesh of his arm was knitting itself together. In mere moments, the wound was gone, not even a scar where it should be. Dick was reminded of the table from before. What just happened?

“What did you do to me?”, he asked, voice soft, and emotionless. 

“Don’t worry. It's your compensation. Part of your medical aid.”

He waved his hand, and the blood vanished. “Do sit down, Nightjar. Lets order something to eat.”

Robotically Dick walked to the table once more. The upturned chair was somehow rightened, already pulled out as if waiting for him.

“That was a healing factor”, he said rather than asked.

Nightingale nodded unbothered. “Yes, you’ll be needing that in your line of work.”

The veil opened and admitted a two-headed woman in, carrying trays of food in her four arms.

When she left, Nightingale eagerly took up his cutlery, looking excitedly at what looked like a luminescent crepe. He glanced at a shell-shocked Dick and frowned.

“Please eat. It's safe to consume, now that you’re one of us. If you’re worrying about your job, don’t. You have been assigned an excellent mentor in Harker. The White Grim will train you well.”

With that, he dug in, clearly enjoying his glowing crepe.

Dick just stared at the man, at his no longer injured arm, and sighed. Might as well eat. He hadn’t gotten to eat anything at the cafe and was beginning to feel hungry.

He scooped a spoonful from what seemed like an overly fancy bowl of cereal.

One of them huh?

He took a bite.

[mime-the]

Hello guys, gals, and nonbinary pals!

It’s time for me to share my CRK AU, which was oh so nicely encouraged to be done by a few little peeps. [You know who you are…]

Ahem, here we go!

Summary

The Mirrored Destinies AU is basically a swap between the 5 ancients and their respective beasts. Shadow Milk swaps roles with Pure Vanilla, and so on! This influences everyone’s personalities to be tweaked for obvious reasons, and for silly new dynamics.

Deceit & Truth

Pure Vanilla Cookie is now the Beast of Deceit. This brings along a name change, and he becomes Vanilla Extract Cookie!

- Vanilla Extract follows an “ignorance is bliss” philosophy. This means that he conceals the truth and twists it to be more “appealing”. He covers up whatever bad deeds his friends do and passes the harder ones as good deeds that were “probably deserved”. This lack of concrete knowledge allows him to manipulate cookies in his favor, as they don’t have the information to allow them to break out of his lies.

- He uses his magic to apply pressure and fog up other cookies’ minds, giving him an opening to sow his own truth. He may not be a complete puppeteer like canonical Shadow Milk, but he still uses others to do his dirty work by whispering sweet lies to them.

- He’s more calm, but still relatively snarky and keen to stand his ground if someone tries to go against him. Vanilla Extract also has a superiority complex, perceiving himself as the master of knowledge and believes that he knows what’s “right” for everyone.

- Vanilla Extract’s greatest ally is this AU’s White Lily Cookie, as the virtue of silence tends to go hand in hand with keeping the truth hidden.

Here’s what the old man looks like:

In turn, Shadow Milk Cookie is now the holder of the light of truth! This too carries along a name change, making him Skim Milk Cookie.

- Skim Milk is the embodiment of the phrase “curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back.” He always seeks out the truth of a situation, even if it may result in upsetting knowledge. He also frequently gives constructive criticism to other cookies, in attempts to make them aware of their faults and where they can get better. This is usually prefaced with a “Can I be honest with you?”

- Like the canonical Pure Vanilla, he is adept in healing magic. Unlike him though, Skim Milk is more willing to use force when necessary. Of course, if a situation can be resolved without escalation he will take it, and frequently tries to deescalate if he sees things getting antsy. He also uses the knowledge he has to write poems, songs, and other such creative things in order to bring awareness to issues or progress of things that people should support.

- He’s pretty high-energy, and is almost always moving or thinking. This means he has a tendency for tapping his hands on items. Personality-wise, it means he is actually relatively optimistic! He always believes things will be better, and that every issue can be worked out in the end. He does also have some sass to him though, but he does his best to keep it at a minimum.

Here’s how the dork looks like:

Their Dynamic

The relationship between them sparked when Vanilla Extract Cookie wriggled out of the silver tree, fully solidifying the connection between the two, even after resealing. They share a mutual hate for each other, as Skim Milk despises how his counterpart keeps waving away the truth in favor of lies, and Vanilla Extract despises how many questions the poet constantly asks him. Vanilla Extract tries to get him to use his writing capabilities to sow in distrust and discord between other cookies whenever the two interact, but Skim Milk always fights back. In return, he constantly tries to interrogate the beast for information about the past and his own life, which pisses him off frequently as he insists that the information doesn’t concern the hero. It’s a constant tug of war between the two…

[mirandasidefics]

But Home is Nowhere- Chapter 4

Pairing(s): Lucien x Plus Size Reader, Azriel x Plus Size Reader, and Ruhn Danaan x Plus Size Reader

Chapter 4 Summary: Feyre arrives at the Moonstone Palace. Reader meets those from Midgard. (I suck at summaries).

Word Count: 3.7K

Warning(s): Mentions of minor violence.

A/N: It's another short chapter, sorry. I read HOFAS and moved into a new apartment at the same time so I was a bit busy the past two weeks. There will be some minor spoilers from HOFAS in this and later chapters, but a large majority of it will diverge from canon. This is primarily an ACOTAR fic with a minor part of the main storyline requiring the characters from Crescent City.

Series Masterlist

Previous: Chapter 3

You woke up to the feeling of sunlight on your face. The windows high along the tops of the walls of your bedroom allowed the light to pour in, cascading down the sheer fabric that draped alongside the bedposts. A breeze from the open-air bathing chamber flitted in and ruffled your matted hair. Last night’s dream had been intense and different from the images that haunted you most nights. Instead of simply reliving your week of intense interrogation by Azriel, last night you bore witness to…

‘Damn it, why can’t I remember now.’ Flashes of images leaked from your memory, only the essence of fear and longing remained. You brought your hand up to rub at your temples, a headache beginning to take root. When your hand placed itself back on your hip it didn’t find it. No, it found itself on top of another hand that was larger than yours. As your brain focused through the fog of the sleep tonic you realized something was pressed against your frame. Not something, someone. That wasn’t an outside breeze that brushed past you, but the warm breath of another person. You craned your neck around, careful not to jostle the body curling around yours. Your eyes caught sight of the shining red strands and you relaxed just a bit to see that it was Lucien in the bed with you. You relaxed even further when you noticed he lay on top of the covers while you were underneath. You weren’t sure how you would have reacted had there been less of a barrier between you two. Reflexively his hold moved from your hips, his arm wrapping around your waist and tightened, pulling you closer. You were surprised that his arm fit around you; his fingers curling in when they couldn’t find space on your opposite side with your body pressed against the mattress. Still you shifted slightly so that the flab of your stomach didn’t spread too far out in front of you. Or at least that was what you hoped.

It had been a long time since another person slept next to you. You had been too embarrassed and ashamed of your body to really let anyone else see or touch you. Logically you knew that you had a healthy body overall, but that didn’t stop the comparisons your mind made when you looked at celebrities or your friends. You always were the largest in your friend group, and sometimes-most times- the knowledge of that drained your self-esteem. You exercised and ate…well your eating habits could probably do with some improvement if you were honest. Your job kept you running around town for various meetings with clients or on phone call conferences all day, and your nights were spent pouring over books and online articles for your dissertation research. Quick and fast meals had become your go to over the past year prior to your arrival in Prythian. And more pounds than you would care to admit accompanied.  

A soft sleep filled hum from the male next to you brought your lingering thoughts to a standstill. You didn’t remember much from the night before, only being awake long enough for the bath. The sleeping tonic had worked incredibly fast. You had drunk the ounce as if it was a damn shot of alcohol, not bothering to dilute it with water as Lucien instructed. You felt bad that Lucien had to watch over you due to your nightmares, and you couldn’t help but wonder when he decided that lying next to you was the solution.

‘Then again, he could just be tired of sleeping on the couch.’ But, you couldn’t deny that you felt more at peace being held by him. His breath tickled your skin, his inhales evenly measured in a steady beat. You lay beside him for a few minutes longer, not really wanting to leave the comfort of the bed. Sadly, your body couldn’t allow itself to remain still for too long once it was awake. You found yourself having to stop the subconscious wiggling of your toes before the energy expanded to your entire foot. The jostling surely would wake the male and you wanted to allow him to sleep as much as possible. So, you decided you would just get ready for the day.

The sun was surprisingly high in the sky, marking the first day that you had slept in since your arrival to this new reality. You maneuvered yourself out of Lucien’s hold, careful not to wake him, before softly walking over to the bathroom. You glanced at yourself in the mirror and were horrified at the image that reflected back. Craning your face close to the mirror-your glasses left on the night stand next to the bed-your appearance came into better focus. You looked at your red rimmed eyes as they sat sunken in above dark blue half circles. Sleep crusted in their corners before giving way to the dried-up streams of your tears. Your disheveled hair still clung to your face, the shorter parts sticking up at odd angles. Your eyes roamed over the long scratch marks that littered your neck and clavicle, even going as far down as your cleavage. The darkness of the thin pajama top brightening each of the red lines. Dread pooled into your stomach. What happened in your dream to merit such an attack on yourself? Which was something that you had never done before. Your fingers reached up to trace alongside what effectively looked like claw marks, and you winced at the tenderness of the skin.

A whip made of flames striking at your chest flashed before your eyes and you jumped back from the mirror. A shocking pain speared through your back at the sudden movement and you crumpled towards the floor. Another flash and barbed wire pressed against your throat. A blinding white hand reached towards your face, followed by piercing blue-violet eyes filled with a mix of emotion only described as loathing, sadness, and pain. Breathing ragged, your hand grasped the edge of the stone sink. Slowly rising back to your feet, you braced your body against the cool marble, allowing it to ground you in the present. You instantly knew the images were from your dream. Each image so vivid that they bordered on feeling more like memories, for they held no trace of the usual misty appearance that was typical of your dreams. You glanced at your throat again, making sure that the wire was gone. You noted a few crescent shaped marks along the outer sides of your throat, likely from your own finger nails digging in to your skin attempting to pry the imaginary wire away. With shaking hands, you turned on the cold water and splashed your face several times. You heard movement from the bedroom and turned to see Lucien standing at the archway.

“Morning,” You mumbled. Your hand rubbed along your chest at the base of your neck while the other wrapped around your torso. “I’m sorry if I woke you.”

“You didn’t wake me. Are you alright?” He took a few steps towards you, his golden eye whirring as it looked you over. You felt a pang in your chest as his arms pulled you into an embrace. It was only when he held you tighter did you realize you had been violently shaking. Your throat tightened as tears brimmed your eyes and you wrapped your own arms around him. You were getting tired of this. Tired of constantly crying and feeling weak…a broken thing. What would it take for the nightmares to end?

“No,” You admitted, releasing your hold on the male. “There was something…different about the dreams last night. They…they felt too real.” Your hand brushed against your neck again as you moved passed him on your way back to the bedroom. You pulled out a navy V-neck sweater and black form fitting pants. You heard the tap of the sink in the bathroom turn on and quickly got dressed while Lucien kept himself occupied in the bathroom. It wasn’t long before the two of you headed out in search of food before settling back into your normal routine.

You and Lucien made your way to the patio, hopeful that you hadn’t missed the opportunity to eat before you dove back into your daily research. When you arrived though, an envelope placed underneath a rock was in the center of the table. Lucien picked it up and read over the contents.

“We’re wanted in the main dining hall,” He folded the letter and stuffed it in his pocket.

“Where’s that?” You wrapped your arms across your middle, a slight chill filled the air.

“Follow me,” He stated simply.

“What about the wards?” Your head swiveled as he brushed past you.

“Apparently they have been taken down. You’re free to move about the Moonstone Palace,” You tried to avoid the slight stumbling of your feet as you followed Lucien. He navigated the hallways as if he had been born inside them. There was no falter in his step as you both approached a set of intricately carved stone doors. The near opalescent shine caught the midday rays of golden sun light, causing flashes of blue, green, and peach to scatter across the surface as the doors opened on silent hinges.

Beyond the doors the room opened into a vast dining hall made up of the same stone. A long and intricately carved pinewood table sat at the center with several people already sat around it. Two chairs had been left vacant on the side closest to the doors you walked through. Your eyes swept over the faces of those gathered, only one of which you recognized as Nesta. She sat just to the right of another young female with the same piercing blue-grey eyes and coppery brown hair that sat at the head of the table. You paused as the female held an infant in her arms. Even from this distance you could make out the vibrancy of his violet eyes and the wings on his back. Down along the side of the table, spaced a seat away from Nesta was another female with deep crimson hair. She held a striking resemblance to Lucien, if not a tad shade paler than the male beside you. Two males sat next to her, the one closest to her with dark hair and eyes, a tattooed crown of black thorns peaked out from above his brow. The vivid bright blue irises of the male on the end met yours and you gasped. Your knees threatened to buckle from underneath you, the memory of your dream hitting you full force.

Running. Running through darkened hallways. Breaths ragged as your lungs strained to inflate. Three males, one with wings carried a third. The red of Cassian’s siphons glinting in the sun. The wind whipped through your hair as a metal gate crashed down. The sound of a machine gun firing coming to an abrupt halt. Running. Your joints ached and muscles burned with effort. The ground beneath your feet crumbled as you barreled towards a cliff’s edge. Shouts and chaos erupted around you. Gunfire. Running. Running. The cliff was so close. Pressure ripped through your back, the feeling of blood trickled down your chest. Falling. Followed by slamming into the earth. The cliff edge just a hairs breath away. Darkness. In the distance you heard the shouting of male. A blindingly bright hand reached towards you. True pain unlike any other ripped through you. Your throat burned from the scream it unleashed. Another shout. Darkness.

“(Y/N)!” Lucien stood in front of you, his mismatched eyes wide and face pale. His grip on your biceps was tight enough to bruise. You blinked rapidly, the dining hall coming back into focus. The female from the head of the table now stood to Lucien’s left. Her worried gaze studied your face.

“My dream,” Your voice sounded so far away in your ears. “They’re from my dream.” You stepped around the male to peer at the ones at the table. The male on the end was standing, staring at you with his own wide eyes. His hair was buzzed along one side; the other side a curtain of long black hair swaying in the breeze that came from the open archways along the far side of the room.

“What?” Lucien followed your gaze.

“No, it’s nothing, never mind,” You shook your head, the images fading back into the recesses of your mind. There was no way…You decided that while you may not have magic, it was best to keep the contents of this particular dream to yourself.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” He asked, worry laced in his tone as he brushed a strand of your hair back. The caring gesture making you self-conscious in front of your audience. While you were certain that his actions were strictly platonic, you didn’t want his mate’s sisters to get the wrong idea and cast you in a not so favorable light.

“I’m fine Lucien,” You ducked around his arm, breezing past him and who you assumed was Feyre. Nesta continued to sit in her chair, the infant almost toddler now in her arms. His legs stretched out in a standing position on her lap. The sight immediately conjured up old memories of your own nephew when he had been that age. As you approached the chair opposite Nesta, her eyes slightly widened.

“What the hell happened to you?” The child in her arms twisted his head, following and tracking your every movement. You held up your hands, curling your fingers as if they had become claws.

“Apparently I turn into a cat and thought my own neck was a scratching post,” You flexed your fingers for emphasis. You felt Lucien’s irritated gaze bore a hole on the side of your head, but you continued to ignore him.

“Don’t fret though, I’ve since declawed myself,” It was Nesta’s turn to show displeasure, however the child in her lap giggled. “Good to know at least someone thinks I’m funny.” You glance to your right and notice that the male at the end of the table is still standing, staring directly at you. The expression on his face was unreadable, and he had an uncanny resemblance to Rhysand.

“Her nightmare was particularly bad last night,” Lucien supplied the eldest sister with the information. You scoffed and sat down in your chair across from her. As if your nightmare was something to easily explain everything. You also found yourself not appreciating him telling your personal issues to anyone apart from him and yourself.

“You did that to yourself?” The blue-eyed male spoke up. Your gaze fell to him, his stern expression made you shift in your seat. In fact, the expressions of everyone else in the room made you uneasy. You had no control over what images your mind conjured in the middle of the night. So why did you feel that it was your fault and you did something wrong. The male’s companions both whipped their heads towards him, surprise on their faces. The red-haired female looked back to you.

“So, you can talk, and that’s the first thing you decide to say?” Her question was met with silence as the male sat back down in his own spot. “And back to silence.”

“Bryce…” The other male seated next to her sighed. Something in you sparked.

“Oh, so you’re Bryce,” You tilted your head as you examined her. The two males stiffed at your tone, but you didn’t care. Yes, they both looked like they would kill you if you said the wrong thing, but your mood was starting to become too sour for you to really care.

“(Y/N),” Lucien’s warning tone was foreign to your ears. You felt like a child being scolded and it only fanned the flames of your embarrassment at feeling so weak and…human. It had suddenly dawned on you that you were the only human in the room. Of course, they would look down on you and find your attitude to be at fault. The overly emotional human. Though the small voice in the back of your mind was also telling you to calm the fuck down before someone did decide to actually end your life.

“What Lucien?” You snapped. “I was nearly murdered and then tortured for a week because I didn’t know who she was. So, forgive me if I’m a bit salty.” You didn’t acknowledge the confused looks you got for your use of slang.

“What do you mean by nearly murdered?” Feyre asked. You turned to face her, the fire of your irritation in you not balking at her steely gaze.

“When your husband found me the first thing he asked was if I knew a Ms. Bryce Quinlan. I told him that I didn’t know any Bryce…I then found myself locked inside my own body. I couldn’t move, could barely even breath. I felt claws gripping my skull, felt them tear at the flesh on my temples. Which doesn’t make sense because his hands were in his pockets…then he brought to a cell in the Hewn City where Az-” Your throat closed up around his name. You felt the irritation in you sputter and die out. You had to press your lips in a thin line to prevent the lower one from trembling. Feyre’s expression softened by a fraction. You turned your head away, not wanting to see the pitying look she gave you. You didn’t want to be pitied for being so weak.

“I’d like to apologize on behalf of my mate and his brother,” She said, “I know that they both feel bad for how things with you were handled. Azriel is especially distraught-.” You scoffed again and looked up at the ceiling. Golden chandeliers slightly swung in the breeze. Your anger wouldn’t let you believe that Azriel felt bad.

“Its true,” Nesta added. You looked at the female, the child in her lap smiled brightly having no clue to the growing tension in the room. To your ever growing embarrassment and shame you had in what happened to you.

“He wants to make up for what happened (Y/N),” Lucien’s hand was warm against your thigh, his thumb rubbing gently against it. No doubt an attempt to comfort you. “He brought you the sleeping tonic last night and-” You went still and you could feel the color drain from your face. You remembered hearing Lucien speak to someone as you bathed last night, but you had no clue it was Azriel.

“He…he was…in t-the room last night,” Your breath came out as a mere whisper. You felt your limbs start to tremble, but you couldn’t tell if that was from fear or rage. Lucien had allowed the male that tortured you to enter the only space that you felt somewhat safe inside. Now it was tainted. You felt anger simmer under your skin. Lucien had allowed Azriel to see you in such a vulnerable state, half naked and crying from the absolute terror that flooded your veins due to the nightmare. However, you knew this wasn’t the time to have this conversation with Lucien, given the three complete strangers sitting at the table. Your ire would have to wait as you didn’t want to air your dirty laundry out in front of them. The male beside you seemed to read your thoughts when he spoke in a low voice.

“We’ll discuss this later,” He lifted his hand from your thigh and you immediately felt the cold air. A cold sting hit your chest. You fixed your eyes on the table in front of you and bit your tongue. You knew that things had gotten way off track, your emotions getting the best of you. You lifted your head and looked to the new faces around you.

“I have to apologize,” You sighed, “I don’t really sleep well and my moods can be a bit fickle as a result. Let’s start over. I’m (Y/N) (L/N).” You held out your hand Bryce over the expanse of the table. Bryce glanced at your hand, an eyebrow raised.

“You shake it,” Nesta whispered to the female, “Or at least that what she says they do in her world.” Bryce smiled.

“I know what a hand shake is Nesta,” Bryce held your gaze and shook your hand. You let out an involuntary sigh of relief.

“You’re not from here?” The male next to Bryce eyed you curiously.

“No, I’m not,” You held out your hand to him in greeting, “We call the planet I’m from Earth. I don’t think we have specific name for our solar system, but it’s within the Milky Way galaxy. Again, our term. I realize that other places could call it something else…if they are even aware of its existence. And… I’m rambling again…”

“I’m Hunt,” He smiled as he shook your hand in return. “We come from a planet we call Midgard.”

“It’s nice to meet you Hunt,” You rose from your seat, and walked around to Lucien’s opposite side to extend your hand to the last male. “And you…” His blue eyes bore into your (e/c) ones. He glanced at your hand, as if touching it would somehow burn him. You withdrew your hand and straighten to stand. You tried to not let the hurt that his demeanor caused show on your face. But it didn’t stop you from studying him a bit longer than you likely should have. Still you forced a smile to your lips.

“That rude asshole is my brother, Ruhn,” Bryce informed. You dipped your chin to Ruhn in acknowledgment. He remained silent; however, his eyes never left you as you returned and sat in your seat across from Nesta. As soon as you sat back down, Lucien’s hand was back on your thigh. Had you not known any better, you would have mistaken it as a territorial gesture. But Lucien had a mate. He was likely just wanting to reassure you that he wasn’t as mad as he may have sounded a few moments ago. You glanced at him from the corner of your eyes to gage his features all the same. He was staring daggers at Ruhn, who was still staring at you. Ruhn only looked away when your eyes met his. Lucien’s hand remained on you and his thumb resumed its unconscious stroking. You noted the action and would have to ask him about it later. You then settled you gaze upon Feyre at the head of the table.

“Well, now that introductions are out of the way,” She leaned forward on her elbows, “We should discuss your potential move to Velaris.”

Next: Chapter 5

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