#but i always kept this draft because i still really liked it!

[stylesispunk]

Silent strain | part vii

outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

previous part | next chapter

summary: Joel still holds on to the idea of ​​giving you the world even though everything feels broken.

w.c: 9k>

warnings: angst, mentions of murder, mentions of death, panics attacks, fluff.

a/n: Hello! I have to be honest. I don't feel really connected to this story since I stopped thinking about it for 3 weeks. I don't know if this chapter makes sense at all. I went to my drafts and tried to join all the different ideas I had written for this chapter 😭 I didn't want to end this story here and there will be one more chapter 🥺 thanks for your patience and sorry for my outbursts. By the way thank you so much on all the love you had given to my marcus acacius fic that one was carefully written haha ✨ Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. Happy reading 💌

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

For the last few days, the house had been quiet.

Unbearable quiet.

The air seemed to be charged with some kind of machiavellian aura. You could breathe the fear coming out your lungs mingling in it with it in some kind of joke. Because after a long time of surviving and doing everything, you could to arrive to a place where you could come to close your eyes at night without the fear of being murdered. The dream faded.

After a long time, you felt hopeless and scared.

After a long time, you had to face the imminent death of someone you loved.

Your biggest fear.

You had seen your sister died before your eyes when the world became mad. You saw Tess died sacrificed for you all, and now, you almost lost your daughter.

Joel hadn’t left your side since you were dismissed from the infirmary.

He had been watching you. At nights when you were finally sleeping, he kept himself awake just to see you sleep and making sure you were fighting your demons in your dreams.

It cut him deep in the heart to feel it, to hear it, and to acknowledge. The sight of you, every day in front of the window with your arms crossed around your middle as a shield from the outside broke his heart. Joel’s heart ached as he watched you, your usual force now cloaked in fear.

The soft light from this morning highlighted the bruise on your face, the purple and blue tones reminding the events that had happened just a few days ago. He hated it, the mark on your skin, the haunted look in your eyes, the way your hands shook no matter how tightly you tried to hold yourself together.

The ring he had given you laid on your finger, shining as the only light you could see during the clouding morning.

He hated this. He hated that someone had dared to put that mark on you, hated that he hadn’t been able to stop it before it happened. But more than anything, he hated seeing the fire in you dimmed, replaced by this trembling fear he didn’t recognize in you.

You had been holding Rosie close every day. The grip on her became almost desperate, like you were afraid she might slip away if you let go, and Joel’s chest tightened at the sight.

And the moments like this, when she was lost in sleeping dreaming about butterflies, you were gripping your arms around your middle, again and again.

Joel cleared his throat softly, not wanting to startle you, but enough to pull you from whatever dark thoughts were haunting you. “Hey,” he said, his voice low and gentle, like it was meant to keep the fragility of the moment intact. “You’re gonna wear a hole in that spot if you keep standin’ there.”

You glanced over your shoulder at him, the tiredness in your eyes making his stomach churn. But you didn’t speak, just offered a faint smile that didn’t quite reach your face before turning your gaze back out the window.

He stepped closer, his boots barely making a sound on the wooden floor. “Hey,” he said softer this time. “You’ve been standin’ there all mornin’. Come sit with me.”

“I don’t want to.” You replied, “I’m looking…whenever he comes back. I’m going to kill him.” 

Joel’s breath caught in his throat at your words. The cold, steely tone in your voice sent a chill down his spine. It wasn’t just the anger, he’d seen you angry before, it was the edge of pain buried underneath it, sharp and raw.

He studied you for a moment, the way your jaw was clenched, your arms still wrapped tightly around yourself like you were holding something in. Joel sighed softly, stepping closer until he was right beside you, his hand brushing against your arm. “I know you’re hurtin’,” he said carefully. “I know you’re angry. Hell, I’m angry too- “

You didn’t look at him, your gaze fixed on the horizon like you were waiting for some shadow to reappear. “He hurt her, Joel. Hurt Rosie. And he-” Your voice cracked, and you swallowed hard, fighting to keep it steady. “He tried to kill me.”

“I know,” Joel said, his voice heavy. He wanted to reach for you, to pull you into his arms, but he didn’t. Not yet. “And if it comes to it, I’ll be the one to handle it. You don’t gotta carry that on top of everythin’ else. That ain’t who you are anymore.”

Finally, you turned to him, your eyes blazing with a despair “You don’t get to tell me who I am, Joel,” you snapped, your voice trembling. “You think I don’t know what killing him means now that we are here? But do you think I care? He almost took Rosie from me. I can’t--I won’t let him get away with that.”

Joel’s jaw tightened, the weight of your words cutting into him. He reached up, brushing a strand of hair from your face with a tenderness that contrasted the fire blazing for your words.

Tears welled in your eyes, and you looked away again, shaking your head. “I can’t sleep well, I can’t breathe, knowing he might come back.”

Joel’s hand moved to your shoulder, grounding you. “We’ll protect her,” he said firmly. “I’ll protect you. I swear to God, he’s not gonna hurt either of you again. I won’t allow that.”

You blinked and turned to look at him, your eyes glassy with tears. “I just... I can’t stop thinking about what could’ve happened,” you murmured, your voice trembling. “If you hadn’t been there, Joel... if Paul had...”

Joel shook his head quickly, cupping your face gently, his thumb brushing over the unbruised side. “But he didn’t. I was there, and I’ll always be there. No one’s gonna hurt you or Rosie again, you hear me?”

Your lower lip quivered, but you nodded, the tears finally spilling over. “I feel so stupid. I’ve faced worse before, but now... I can’t even step outside without panicking.”

He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into his chest, holding you as if he could shield you from the world. “You’re not stupid,” he said firmly.

You buried your face in his chest, breathing in the familiar scent of him, and for the first time in days, you felt a flicker of safety amidst the storm. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” you whispered.

Joel kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering there for a moment. “You’ll never have to find out, darlin’. Never.”

“Never leave me, please” you whispered, your voice trembling as your eyes locked with his. The love in Joel’s gaze was overwhelming, deep and steady, like it could ground you even in the midst of your unraveling. In that moment, it felt as though he could heal every wound in the world just by looking at you like that.

He didn’t say anything right away, but his hands cupped your face gently, his thumbs brushing away the tears that clung to your skin. His touch was so tender, it almost broke you all over again.

“I’m here,” he said, his voice rough but steady. “Always. I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

The weight of his words, the sheer promise in them, weakened you. You leaned in, pressing your lips to his with all the love, fear, and gratitude coursing through you. The kiss wasn’t hurried or frantic; it was deep, purposeful, filled with everything you couldn’t put into words.

Joel responded with equal intensity, his hands steadying you as if anchoring you to him. The kiss deepened, and you poured every single feeling you had for him into it, your love, your fear, your desperate need for him to know just how much he meant to you.

When you finally pulled back, your forehead rested on his neck. His eyes stayed on you, dark and filled with so much love it left you almost breathless.

“You are my world,” he murmured, his voice rough with honesty. “There ain’t nothin’ that’s ever gonna take me away from you.” He paused, “No Paul, not even Tommy” he said, finally allowing himself to be angry with his brother for not acting properly when you needed.

You smiled softly, your fingers lifted, tracing the familiar lines of his face. “You heal me, Joel,” you whispered. “In ways I didn’t think were possible.” You sighed, “I’ve slept just because you are by my side,” you whispered, your voice trembling with the vulnerability you rarely showed.

Joel's eyes softened at your confession, the lines of his face etched with worry and love. He pulled you closer, wrapping his arms securely around you, as if shielding you from everything outside your small, shared world.

“I’ll always be here,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “No one’s gonna hurt you again, not while I’m breathin’. And I’m not goin’ anywhere.” He tilted your chin up slightly, meeting your gaze with an intensity that both comforted and steadied you. “You believe me, don’t you?”

You nodded, a tear slipping down your cheek. “I do,” you whispered. “I just... I don’t want to lose you, Joel. Not again. You mean everything to me. Rosie and Ellie need you. I need you.”

His lips pressed into a firm line as he kissed your forehead, lingering there for a moment before speaking. “You won’t lose me. Not to this world, not to anyone.” His tone carried a weight of conviction that made you believe him, despite the dark corners of your mind that tried to tell you otherwise.

You let out a shaky breath, your fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt as if holding on to him could ground you further. “I love you,” you said, the words spilling out with a mix of desperation and relief.

Joel tightened his embrace, his hand cradling the back of your head. “I love you too, darlin’. More than I’ll ever be able to say.”

The days that followed, the tension between Joel and Tommy hung in the air like a storm cloud, heavy and unrelenting. The anger in Joel’s chest refused to leave and every time he thought about Paul, about what he had done to you, about Rosie crying in your arms, about Tommy and Maria’s insistence on letting him live because he was the most capable doctor in Jackson, made his blood boil.

Joel stayed distant, avoiding Tommy whenever he could. But the inevitable day came when Tommy finally showed up at your door.

The sound of footsteps outside was followed by a knock. You opened the door cautiously, seeing Tommy standing there, his posture tense, but his face holding a mix of determination and concern. He wasn’t going to let this go.

“Can we talk?” Tommy’s voice was low, almost pleading, as he stood at the threshold, not pushing any further without an invitation.

You glanced back at Joel, who stood in the corner of the room, his arms crossed, jaw clenched. His posture was rigid, his anger simmering just beneath the surface. You could feel the weight of his gaze on Tommy.

“You’re here now,” you said quietly, your gaze flicking between the two men. "Let’s just talk. It’s time to sort this out.”

Tommy looked at you, grateful for your willingness to listen, but then his eyes moved to Joel. “I’m not here to argue,” he said, his voice steady but carrying a hint of frustration. “I just want to make sure you both understand why I did what I did. Maria and I- we thought it was best for Jackson.”

Joel stepped forward then, his voice tight, filled with a simmering anger. “Best for Jackson?” he spat; his words heavy. “You think keeping Paul around is what's best? After what he did to my family? After what he did to her?” His gaze flicked to you, and his face twisted with pain and rage.

Tommy’s face faltered slightly, but he stood firm. “We can’t just murder people, Joel. We’ve got to think about the bigger picture here.”

“The bigger picture?” Joel’s voice broke through the silence, louder now. “The bigger picture is you letting him get away with what he did. You think a doctor’s skills are worth more than the safety of someone?”

You stepped in between the two men, your hand on Joel’s chest, trying to diffuse the tension that had only escalated. “Joel.” you said softly, your voice firm yet gentle.

Joel’s anger didn’t subside, but he took a deep breath, his gaze hardening as he met Tommy’s eyes. “I get it, Tommy. I do. I get you don’t kill people. But this is not about you or me. It’s About her, about Rosie.” He nodded toward you, his voice softer but still filled with that quiet fury. “You failed us, and I’m not gonna forget that.”

Tommy’s face tightened, but he didn’t flinch. “I’m not asking you to forget,” he said, his voice growing quiet, but steady. “I’m asking you to try to understand. I had to make a choice. And I’m sorry it hurt you. I didn’t want that. But we can’t just act on anger. It’ll destroy us all.”

The silence between them was heavy, the weight of their words hanging in the air. Joel’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment, the two brothers just stood there, glaring at each other. You could feel the tension in the room, the hurt, the unresolved conflict.

“I’m gonna kill him, Tommy” you say, leaving no room to even think about an answer. The words left your lips before you could even stop them. You meant it, if you were just speaking out of fear, anger, or something deeper. But in that moment, it felt real. It felt like the only thing that made sense.

Tommy’s face paled; his eyes wide in disbelief. He took a step back, as if your words had physically hit him.

“Don’t say that,” Tommy said, his voice shaky now. “You can’t mean that. No matter what Paul did, that’s not-” He looked to Joel, who stood silent, his jaw clenched tightly as his gaze fixed on you.

Joel’s expression didn’t soften. His eyes were filled with an intensity you knew all too well, but it wasn’t just anger anymore.

“I can’t let him hurt us again,” you continued, your voice steady. “Not after what he did. To me. To Rosie.” Your hands tightened into fists at your sides, the thought of what Paul done still fresh. “He can’t be allowed to walk away from this.”

“I get it. I know how much you hate him. How much you want to make him pay. But that’s not the way” he said, trying to open a door to your own feelings and make to see you beyond the anger.

You shook your head, the frustration bubbling up. “You don’t understand. You knew what he did and you did nothing to stop it.” You could feel the tears threatening to spill again, but you fought them back. “I can’t just let it go.”

Joel’s gaze softened at you, and he gently cupped your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek. The tenderness in his touch was a stark contrast to the rage that was building inside you.

“I don’t want you to become like him,” Joel whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. “I don’t want you to lose yourself in this. You’re better than that.”

Tommy stood quietly behind Joel; his face pained. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but the words caught in his throat. He looked between you and Joel, his hands rising in a gesture of helplessness.

“Please,” Tommy said softly, the weight of his voice more sincere now. “I don’t want to lose you both. Not like this.”

There was a long silence, the tension between the three of you palpable. You could feel the storm brewing in your chest, the fury, the fear, and the loss. But looking at Joel, his eyes filled with that quiet, unshakable love, something in you began to still, just slightly.

“Joel…” You whispered, your voice cracking as you tried to hold onto your resolve. But the reality of the situation hit you, the sheer weight of everything that had happened.

Joel’s hand never left your cheek, and he pulled you closer, his body shielding you, his love steadying you. He didn’t need to say anything more. The silence spoke volumes, louder than any words ever could.

For the first time in days, the raw anger inside you began to dull, if only for a moment. And in that moment, you knew what he was trying to do.

 keep you whole.

You closed your eyes, letting out a shaky breath as Joel held you, his strength grounding you in a way words never could. The storm within you hadn’t passed—it was still there, simmering—but his touch, his love, gave you a moment of clarity.

“I don’t know how to let this go,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. Your fingers clung to the fabric of Joel’s shirt, desperate for something solid, something real. “I can still feel it, Joel. What he did. How he made me feel powerless. How he put our daughter at risk.”

Joel nodded, his jaw tightening as he pulled you closer. “I know, darlin’. I know.” His voice was thick with emotion, his own rage barely contained. “But you’re not powerless. You’ve got me. You’ve got Rosie. We’ll face this together. You don’t have to carry this alone.”

Tommy shifted uncomfortably in the background, his hands shoved into his pockets. He looked at the floor, at the walls, anywhere but directly at you. When he finally spoke, his voice was hesitant but firm. “Paul’s gone. I made sure of it. He’s not coming back here. He doesn’t get to hurt you or your family again.”

You opened your eyes, pulling away from Joel just enough to look at Tommy. “Gone where?” you asked, your tone sharp despite the exhaustion in your voice.

Tommy met your gaze, his face solemn. “Out of Jackson. Banished. He’s on his own now. That’s his punishment.”

It wasn’t enough. Not for you. But the flicker of guilt in Tommy’s eyes told you it was the best he could do under the circumstances.

“Banished?” Joel’s voice cut through the tension like a knife. “That’s supposed to make up for what he did? You think that’s justice, Tommy? Letting him walk away alive?”

Tommy winced but stood his ground. “It’s all I could do, Joel. You know that. Maria and I—”

“Maria.” Joel’s voice was laced with bitterness, his lips curling into a sneer. “Of course, Maria had a say in this. She always does.”

“Don’t do that,” Tommy shot back, his tone defensive. “Don’t make this about her. She’s trying to keep this place together, same as me.”

Joel shook his head, his grip on you tightening protectively. “This ain’t about Jackson. This is about family. And you sure as hell didn’t act like it when you let him off easy.”

The tension in the room thickened, the weight of Joel’s words pressing down on all of you. Tommy opened his mouth to respond but stopped himself, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “I’m sorry,” he said finally, his voice low. “I didn’t mean to let you down. Either of you.”

You watched him carefully, the sincerity in his voice softening your anger but not extinguishing it. You leaned into Joel, your voice steady but quiet. “We needed you to protect us, Tommy. And you didn’t.”

Tommy’s face fell, and for a moment, he looked lost, like the younger brother Joel used to shield from the world. “I’ll do better,” he said after a pause. “I promise.”

Joel didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he looked down at you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of what you wanted. You gave him a small nod, your fingers brushing against his hand.

“Fine,” Joel said gruffly, his tone still heavy with distrust. “If he comes back, if he so much as looks in our direction, I won’t wait for you to make the call.”

Tommy nodded solemnly, knowing better than to argue. “He won’t,” he said. “I’ll make sure of it.”

With that, Tommy turned to leave, pausing at the door. “I meant what I said,” he added, looking back at both of you. “I’ll do better.”

Joel didn’t respond, his attention already back on you as the door clicked shut behind his brother. His hands cupped your face, his thumb brushing away the tears that had spilled during the heated exchange.

“You, okay?” he asked softly, his voice a stark contrast to the anger he’d directed at Tommy moments ago.

You nodded, though the ache in your chest lingered. “I will be,” you whispered, leaning into his touch. “As long as I have you.”

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden hue over Jackson as you stepped outside for the first time in days. The cool breeze felt foreign on your skin, and the familiar hum of life around the town was both comforting and unnerving. People moved about, their voices mingling in the air, but it didn’t take long for you to notice the glances, those fleeting, pity-filled looks that made your stomach twist.

Joel had left early for patrol, a reluctant decision that you’d seen weigh on him. Before leaving, he’d turned to Ellie, handing her the silent responsibility of looking out for you. She had protested initially, grumbling about not being a babysitter, but her eyes had softened when she looked at you. Joel knew, as did you, that Ellie’s sharp wit and unwavering loyalty were exactly what you needed to ground yourself amidst the whispers of the town.

“Come on,” Ellie said now, falling into step beside you. “Let’s go to the stables. I think is time to introduce you to Shimmer.”

You gave her a small smile, grateful for her enthusiasm. “Think so? I haven’t exactly been good company lately.”

“Don’t start with that,” Ellie replied, her tone firm but not unkind. “People in this place don’t know what they’re talking about half the time. Who cares what they think? You’re way tougher than any of them.”

Her words stirred something in you, a small flicker of strength you hadn’t felt in days. “Thanks, Ellie.”

She shrugged, her usual smirk returning. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t get all mushy on me.”

The two of you made your way through Jackson, the familiar paths slowly feeling less daunting with Ellie by your side. She talked about anything and everything, her rambling stories pulling you away from the stares and murmurs. By the time you reached the stables, you almost felt like yourself again.

As you ran your fingers along Shimmer’s mane, Ellie leaned against the stall door, watching you with an expression that was rare for her, soft and patient.

“Y’know,” she started, her voice quieter now, “Joel worries about you a lot.”

You nodded, your hand still brushing against the horse. “I know he does. I worry about him, too.”

Ellie hesitated, as if weighing her next words carefully. “You don’t have to be okay all the time. It’s fine if you’re not. But...you’re important to him. And to me. So, if you need anything, just...say it, okay?”

The lump in your throat was back, but this time it wasn’t from fear or sadness. It was gratitude, pure and simple. You turned to Ellie, her usual tough exterior softened just enough to let her sincerity shine through.

“Thank you, Ellie,” you said, your voice steady. “For everything.”

She grinned, her cocky demeanor sliding back into place. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t mention it. Now let’s get moving before Joel gets back and freaks out because you’re not at the house.”

You laughed softly, the sound surprising both of you. For the first time, you felt like you were taking a step, however small, toward reclaiming the part of yourself that Paul had tried to steal.

Joel would come home later, his expression softening the moment he saw you standing in the kitchen, Ellie at your side, and Rosie cooing softly in your arms. The sight of you holding her, your face showing a glimmer of the strength he had always admired, eased the tension in his chest.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low and warm as he stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. His gaze lingered on you, taking in the small smile that graced your lips as you bounced Rosie gently.

“Hey,” you replied, meeting his eyes. There was still a shadow of everything you’d been through, but there was also something more—hope.

Rosie reached out a tiny hand toward Joel, her soft babbles filling the room as she wriggled excitedly. Joel couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face as he walked over, pressing a gentle kiss to her head before turning his attention back to you.

“You been good today?” he asked, his hand coming to rest on your waist, grounding you in that quiet, unshakable way only he could.

“I’ve been okay,” you admitted, glancing at Ellie. “Ellie made sure I didn’t completely lose it.”

“Damn right I did,” Ellie said with a smirk, though her tone was laced with affection. “You should thank me. I could’ve let her go feral.”

Joel chuckled, his fingers brushing your cheek. “Thanks, kid. Knew I could count on you.”

Ellie shrugged, playing it cool, though her smile betrayed her pride. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t get sappy on me.”

Rosie giggled in your arms, her tiny hands now tugging at Joel’s shirt. He let out a low laugh, taking her from you and cradling her against his chest.

“You been keepin’ your mama company, huh?” he murmured to Rosie, his tone soft as she babbled in response.

You watched the two of them, a warmth spreading through your chest. Despite everything, despite the weight of the past days, there was this, your family. It wasn’t perfect, and it wasn’t easy, but it was yours.

And as Joel wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close while still holding Rosie, you realized that no matter how rocky the road ahead was, you’d face it together.

Later that night, the house had settled into a calm quiet. You and Joel were in your bedroom, the soft glow of the bedside lamp illuminating the space. Joel sat on the edge of the bed, running a hand through his hair while you folded Rosie’s tiny clothes, setting them neatly in a small basket by the dresser.

A knock on the door broke the silence.

“Come in,” you called, glancing up to see Ellie poking her head inside.

“Just wanted to say goodnight,” she said casually, but the softness in her eyes revealed more.

You smiled warmly, setting down the clothes. “Goodnight, Ellie. Thank you for today.”

Ellie waved a hand, brushing off your gratitude. “It was nothing. Just, you know… don’t go all weird again, okay? Makes me feel like I gotta be responsible or somethin’.”

Joel chuckled from his spot on the bed, his gruff voice carrying a note of fondness. “You’re plenty responsible, kid. More than you give yourself credit for.”

Ellie scoffed but didn’t argue. Instead, she gave you a small smile, her gaze lingering on you for a moment. “Night, guys.”

“Goodnight, Ellie,” you and Joel said in unison, watching as she closed the door behind her.

The room fell quiet again, the air filled with a comfortable stillness. Joel shifted, standing to walk over to where you stood. His hands settled on your waist, his touch firm but gentle.

“Got somethin’ I wanna ask you,” he said, his voice low.

You looked up at him, curiosity flickering in your eyes. “What is it?”

Joel took a deep breath, his eyes scanning your face as if searching for the right words. “You know… maybe we could…” He paused, seeming almost unsure, then continued, his voice quiet but filled with a flicker of hope. “Maybe we could find a farm. Somethin’ out there, for us to live together. Rosie could grow up there, maybe Ellie could come too.”

A small smile crept onto your face, the idea warming something deep within you. The thought of a place away from the constant need to survive, a place where Rosie could learn what it meant to grow up safely, it was more than you’d ever thought to hope for.

You squeezed Joel’s hand, meeting his eyes. “I’d love that,” you murmured, imagining the life you could have together on that farm. “But maybe… let’s give Rosie a bit more time. Let her grow a little. She’s just starting to get to know this world, and Jackson’s safe for now.”

Joel’s face softened; his eyes filled with a warmth that made you feel completely at home. “Yeah,” he said, nodding thoughtfully. “Ain’t no rush. Just… it’s good to have somethin’ to look forward to. Somethin’ better for her. For us.”

You leaned into him, letting the silence settle over you, both of you holding onto that shared vision. A little farm, a life of peace, a future beyond the fight, one that you could finally believe in.

“Wherever you go, I’ll follow you, Joel. Always.”

He let out a breath, his shoulders easing, and a quiet smile formed on his face. “Guess I’m the luckiest damn fool in this world, then.”

His words made you smile, and you closed the small space between you, resting your head on his shoulder as his arms wrapped around you. The warmth of his embrace felt like the safest place in a world that had taken so much, yet somehow, you had found each other. And that was more than either of you had ever thought to hope for.

His lips brushed over your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, each kiss tender and deliberate, as though he wanted to mark every part of you with the love he felt.

“We’re gonna get married,” he repeated, his voice low but steady, as if speaking it aloud made it more real. His fingers traced soft circles on your back, his touch reassuring and protective. “Then we’ll make that farm happen. A place for Rosie, for us. Maybe some chickens, a couple of goats. We’ll figure it all out.”

You laughed softly, the sound light in the quiet room. “Chickens and goats, huh? You planning on becoming a farmer, Miller?”

“Don’t see why not,” he said with a small grin, his eyes twinkling with a rare spark of humor. “Figure I can learn, long as you’re by my side.”

Your hand came up to rest on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart beneath your palm. “That sounds perfect.”

His gaze softened, his arms tightening around you.

You smiled, lifting your head to look at him fully. “Dream as much as you want. Just know that wherever you go, I’ll be right there with you. Always.”

His jaw clenched slightly, emotion flickering across his face before he leaned in, pressing a deep, lingering kiss to your lips. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours.

“You’re my whole damn world,” he said quietly, his voice thick with sincerity. “Now get some sleep, baby. You deserve it,” Joel murmured, his voice soft and soothing as he brushed a strand of hair from your face.

You felt the exhaustion finally catching up, the weight of everything settling down now that you were safe, here in his arms. His hand traced gentle circles on your back, a calming rhythm that lulled you closer to sleep.

With your eyes closing, you whispered, “I love you, Joel.”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, his voice a low, comforting rumble. “I love you, too. Now rest. I’ve got you.”

And with those words, you let yourself drift, knowing that, for once, everything was exactly where it needed to be.

A few weeks later, the world outside your home didn’t seem as suffocating as it once had. You found yourself stepping out more often, though each time felt like a small battle. The whispers of pity had dulled into occasional glances, but you didn’t care much anymore. What mattered was reclaiming pieces of yourself, the parts that had been shaken to their core.

Joel had noticed the shift in you. It wasn’t just bravery returning; it was something darker. There was a hunger in your eyes, a quiet, burning thirst for vengeance. He didn’t need to ask to know what you were thinking. He had seen it in the way your grip tightened on your gun when you joined him on patrol for the first time, in the way your eyes scanned the horizon as though searching for someone. Searching for him.

Paul.

“I don’t know if this is the best idea,” Joel had murmured that morning, watching you strap on your gear with determination. Rosie was with Ellie, safe and sound, but Joel couldn’t shake the unease in his gut.

“I need this, Joel,” you replied firmly, your voice leaving no room for argument. “I can’t sit in that house anymore, feeling helpless. I need to do something.”

Joel hesitated, but he couldn’t deny you. He knew the feeling of needing to act, of needing to take back control. So, he let you come, though he kept a protective eye on you every second.

Now, as the two of you rode along a quiet path outside Jackson, the sun dipping low in the sky, you felt the weight of your riffle against your shoulders, silent reminder of the decision you’d already made in your heart. If Paul was out here, if by some chance you found him, you wouldn’t hesitate. You couldn’t.

Joel glanced at you from the corner of his eye, his jaw tight. “You’ve been quiet,” he said, his voice low.

You turned to him, your expression guarded. “Just thinking.”

“About what?” he pressed gently, though he already had a good idea.

You hesitated before answering, your fingers gripping the reins of your horse a little tighter. “About what I’d do if I saw him out here.”

Joel’s hand twitched on his own reins, his eyes narrowing slightly. “And what’s that?” he asked, his tone careful.

You looked straight ahead, your voice unwavering. “I’d finish what he started.”

Joel’s breath hitched, and he pulled his horse to a stop, forcing you to do the same. He turned to face you fully, his expression a mix of frustration and concern. “You really think that’s gonna fix this? Killing him?”

“It’ll fix the part of me that still wakes up at night hearing Rosie cry,” you shot back, your voice sharper than you intended. “The part of me that can’t shake the image of him grabbing her, hurting her.”

Joel’s face softened, but his eyes remained steady on yours. “I get it,” he said quietly. “God, I get it more than you know. But that path? It doesn’t end. You take that step, and it stays with you. Forever.”

You swallowed hard, his words hitting deeper than you wanted to admit. “You’ve done it,” you whispered. “You’ve done what needed to be done.”

“And it’s carved pieces outta me I’ll never get back,” Joel said, his voice rough with emotion. “Pieces I don’t want you to lose, too. Not when I’ve fought like hell to keep you whole.”

“Have I ever told you about how my sister really died?” You asked, stopping on your tracks.

Joel froze at your words, his brows knitting together as he watched you. The rawness in your voice, the way your shoulders tensed, told him this wasn’t something you’d ever shared before, not with him, not with anyone.

“You don’t have to-” Joel started, but you cut him off, your tone firm yet fragile.

“No, I do,” you said, gripping the reins tightly, your knuckles white. “If I don’t say it now, I don’t think I ever will.”

Joel dismounted his horse without a word, grounding himself on the dirt path, his full attention on you. He didn’t try to stop you again. He knew you well enough to know that this was something you needed to let out.

You took a shaky breath, your eyes fixed on the horizon. “She wasn’t just sick,” you began, your voice trembling. “She didn’t die because we ran out of medicine or supplies. She died because someone decided her life wasn’t worth saving.”

Joel’s jaw clenched, his fists curling at his sides as he listened, his heart sinking at the pain in your voice.

“We were desperate, starving. I’d gone to trade what little we had for anything that could help her, food, medicine, something. But the man… he said no. Said it wasn’t worth it for someone who was already on their way out. I begged him, Joel. I begged him with everything I had.” Your voice broke, tears threatening to spill as the memory clawed its way back. “He just walked away.”

Joel took a step closer, his chest tightening at the sight of you, so strong yet so broken by the weight of the past.

“When I got back, she was already gone,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “And I’ve hated myself ever since for not doing more. For not forcing him to help her. For not-” You stopped, your breath hitching as tears slipped down your cheeks.

Joel reached for you then, his hands gently cupping your face, pulling you to him. “It wasn’t your fault,” he said firmly, his voice steady but laced with emotion. “You did everything you could. Don’t carry that blame, not for a second.”

“You looked up at him, your tears reflecting the fading light. “She was Ellie’s age, and I’ve carried it every day, Joel. And now, with Paul... I can’t let him walk away like that man did. I can’t let him think he can take something so precious from me and just go on living.”

Joel’s gaze softened, his thumb brushing away your tears. “I understand,” he said, his voice low and unwavering. “More than you know. But listen to me, you’re not the same person you were back then. And this time, you’re not alone. You have me. You have Rosie. Ellie. We’ll make it through this together, but not like this. Not by lettin’ that hatred eat away at you.”

You let out a shaky breath, his words sinking in, though the fire inside you still burned. Joel leaned his forehead against yours, his voice barely above a whisper. “Please, don’t let him take any more from you than he already has. Don’t let him steal the light I see in you every day.”

“If it has to be done,” Joel paused, “It’s gonna be me the one to do it for you.” He finally said.

You stared at him, your breath catching in your throat as the gravity of his promise hit you. His hands remained steady on you, grounding you, while his eyes held that unyielding intensity, a mixture of love, pain, and determination.

“Joel,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I don’t want you carrying that. Not for me.”

His jaw clenched, and he shook his head slightly. “It ain’t about what I want to carry,” he said firmly. “It’s about what I won’t let you carry. You don’t deserve to live with that weight, and I’ll do whatever it takes to keep it off you.”

Your heart ached at the sheer depth of his devotion. You reached up, your hand resting on his cheek, feeling the familiar scruff beneath your palm. “You think I can’t live with it, but I’m not sure I can live with you doin’ it either,” you admitted, your voice cracking.

Joel exhaled sharply, his forehead pressing harder against yours. “I know you’re stronger than you think, darlin’. But I also know what it’s like to live with somethin’ like that. I won’t let it twist you up inside. You’re the one thing in my life that’s still pure. You are carrying my secret already.”

The weight of his words settled over you like a blow. Your hand faltered slightly against his cheek.

“You’re carrying the only thing I can’t tell Ellie yet” he murmured, his voice thick with unspoken emotion.

“Ellie’s carryin’ that guilt without even knowin’,” Joel said, his voice cracking. “And you’re carryin’ my guilt. I see it in your eyes, darlin’. You’re strong enough to hold it, but it doesn’t mean you should have to and I can’t let you to carry this responsibility.”

Tears welled in your eyes as you cupped his face, your hands trembling. “Joel,” you breathed.

He shook his head slightly, his forehead brushing against yours as if he couldn’t bear to pull away. “That’s my burden to bear,” he said quietly. “Not yours. Not Ellie’s. You didn’t ask for this, darlin’. I brought it to you, just like I brought so much else.”

Your hands steadied on his face, thumbs gently tracing the lines etched deep from years of pain and survival. “You think I can’t handle it,” you said, your voice soft but firm, “but I can. Joel, I’m not breaking under this. You’re not dragging me down—you’re keeping me standing. We’re carrying this together, even if you can’t see that yet.”

His eyes closed briefly, his breath shuddering as he let your words settle over him. “I just…” He exhaled, shaking his head as if trying to push away the weight of his guilt. “I just don’t want to lose the parts of you that make me believe there’s still good in this world. You’re my light, darlin’. I can’t let this world take that away from you like it’s taken so much from me.”

You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. “You’ve lost pieces of yourself to protect the people you love, Joel. But you didn’t lose your heart. You didn’t lose the ability to care, to love. That’s what I see every day. That’s why I love you.”

Joel’s hands slid up to cradle your face, his eyes glassy as he gazed at you. “You make me wanna believe we can have somethin’ better. You and Rosie… Ellie…” He trailed off, his voice cracking under the weight of emotion.

“And we will,” you whispered, your own tears slipping down your cheeks.

For a moment, the room was filled with the quiet hum of your shared breath, the weight of Joel’s secret and his pain hanging between you like a fragile thread. Then, as if finally surrendering to the truth in your words, he pulled you close, his arms wrapping around you tightly.

“I’ll do my best,” he murmured, his voice muffled against your hair. “But I’ll never stop tryin’ to protect you. That’s who I am. That’s who I’ll always be.”

You nodded against him, your own arms wrapping around his waist as you clung to him. “And I’ll protect you, too, Joel. Always.”

……………………………………….

The next morning, you woke to the quiet sounds of the house, birds singing outside, the soft rustling of the wind through the trees. But as you blinked awake, a familiar sense of unease settled deep in your chest. You turned to find Joel already up, getting dressed in his patrol gear, his movements steady and practiced.

But there was something about the way he moved this morning, something that made your stomach twist. The sense of calm you’d felt the night before had faded with the dawn, replaced by a gnawing feeling in the pit of your stomach.

You sat up in bed, rubbing your eyes, trying to shake off the unsettling feeling that lingered. “Joel,” you called softly, watching as he fastened his boots.

He turned toward you, his expression softening when he saw you awake. “Mornin’,” he said with a small smile, though there was something in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place.

You frowned, pushing the blankets aside as you slowly got to your feet. “You got patrol?”

Joel nodded, adjusting the straps on his jacket. “Yeah. Gotta keep an eye on things, make sure no one’s out there stirring up trouble.”

The unease inside you only deepened as you stood there, watching him. You wanted to say something, to voice the feeling that gnawed at you, but it was hard to put into words. You’d been through so much together, and you knew the risks. But there was something in the air this morning, something different.

“Be careful,” you finally said, your voice low. You moved closer, your eyes searching his face. “Please.”

Joel’s eyes softened at your concern, and he reached out to touch your arm gently, his fingers warm against your skin. “Don’t worry, darlin’. I’ll be fine. I’ve done this a hundred times.”

“I know,” you murmured, but the unease refused to leave you. It settled deep, a cold weight you couldn’t shake. “It’s just… I don’t know. I have a bad feeling, Joel.”

He gave you a reassuring smile, though there was a glimmer of something in his eyes that made you wonder if he was hiding something. “You’re just gettin’ anxious, that’s all. Ain’t nothing to worry about.”

You didn’t believe him, but you didn’t press further. He could see it in your face, the doubt, the fear, but he didn’t acknowledge it. Instead, he leaned down to kiss your forehead.

“Look, I’ll be back before you know it. And I’ll be careful, promise. I told Ellie to check on you when I get out there. Everything’s gonna be fine.”

You nodded, though the worry still clung to you, heavy in your chest. You watched him grab his rifle and head for the door, your heart tightening as the unease only deepened.

“Come back safe,” you whispered, though he was already out the door, the sound of it closing behind him leaving you with nothing but the silence of the house.

The day passed in a haze; your every step weighed down by the gnawing feeling in your chest. Rosie was a constant, her small hands gripping onto your fingers as you walked through the house, but even her giggles and soft coos couldn’t shake the sense of dread that clung to you.

You tried to keep busy, shifting from one task to the next, preparing food, tidying up, organizing things in a way that felt normal. But it wasn’t normal. It wasn’t right. Your thoughts kept drifting back to Joel, to the way he’d left this morning, and to that unsettling feeling that something was going to happen.

Rosie’s tiny laugh broke through your thoughts, and you turned to her, forcing a smile as she looked up at you with her bright, innocent eyes. “What’s so funny, huh?” you whispered, leaning down to kiss the top of her head, but the sensation of unease lingered, like a shadow you couldn’t outrun.

You carried her around the house, humming softly to calm her, but the tension inside you only seemed to grow. You tried to focus on the present, on her needs, but your mind kept returning to Joel, to the patrol, to the feeling of something wrong.

You spent hours moving through the motions, your hands busy with Rosie, but your mind was somewhere else. You couldn’t shake the weight of the silence. Even the usual comfort of Jackson, the rhythm of life, the sense of safety felt distant. You wanted to believe that Joel would come home safely, that everything would be fine, but every part of you felt like it was bracing for something.

Every time you heard a sound outside, whether it was the wind brushing through the trees or footsteps in the distance, you jumped, your heart hammering in your chest. You knew it wasn’t rational, but the dread wouldn’t leave.

You glanced at the window once more, eyes scanning the horizon. The day stretched on, and you couldn’t shake the feeling of being stuck in limbo, waiting for something you couldn’t see or name, but could feel settling deeper into your bones.

By the time the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the house, your nerves were frayed, the silence between you and Rosie growing thicker. She had fallen asleep in your arms, her little breaths gentle against your chest, but even her calmness couldn’t settle your mind.

You tried to push everything aside, focusing on her, but as the evening wore on, the darkness began to close in. The sounds of Jackson, usually comforting, seemed muted, everything felt distant, like you were separated from the world outside, and the only thing that existed was the growing ache inside you.

You forced yourself to sit down on the couch with Rosie, running your fingers through her hair, trying to lull her back to sleep. But all you could hear in the back of your mind was the warning, something was wrong, and you couldn’t ignore it.

The clock ticked on, and the hours seemed to stretch impossibly long. Joel should’ve been home by now.

Your eyes drifted to the door, and for the hundredth time, you found yourself wondering if he was okay. You could feel the weight of the night pressing down on you, the silence now suffocating, and no matter how hard you tried to focus on Rosie, the bad feeling wouldn’t let go.

You couldn’t ignore it anymore.

And then, it came, the knock at the door.

The sound shattered the quiet like a thunderclap, and your heart leaped into your throat. For a split second, you stood frozen, staring at the door as the sound of it echoed in your chest.

Rosie stirred slightly in your arms, her small body shifting against you, but you didn’t move, didn’t speak. The knock came again, more urgent this time, and it felt like the world was holding its breath.

You slowly set Rosie down on the couch, her sleepy gaze not yet aware of the tension in the room. You walked toward the door, each step heavy, your mind racing with possibilities, none of them good.

When you finally reached the door, you hesitated for just a moment, your hand resting on the cold metal of the doorknob. Your chest tightened with each breath, and you could almost feel the weight of whatever was about to happen bearing down on you.

With a swift motion, you swung the door open.

Standing on the other side was a familiar figure, one you didn’t want to see right now. Tommy’s face was grim, his posture stiff and anxious. The second his eyes landed on you, he froze, his expression darkening further.

You swallowed, trying to keep your voice steady, but it trembled nonetheless.

 “Where’s Joel?” The question was simple, but it felt like it would crush you to ask it out loud.

Tommy looked down, unable to meet your gaze, his lips pressed into a thin line. His silence was enough. You could feel your chest tightening, your breath coming shallow.

“Tommy…” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. You needed to know, needed to hear him say it wasn’t what you feared. But the way he held himself, the way he refused to look at you directly, it told you everything you needed to know.

“He’s… he’s not coming back right now,” Tommy said, his words falling like a weight in the room.

Your breath caught, a sharp, cold wave crashing over you. “What happened?” you forced out, each syllable like a blade.

Tommy’s jaw tightened, and he glanced over his shoulder as if searching for something he couldn’t find. “He… got caught up in a situation. We’re trying to find him, but-” He stopped himself, eyes flicking to the ground. “He wasn’t alone.”

Your heart skipped a beat. You barely heard him over the rush of panic flooding your mind. You reached out for the doorframe to steady yourself, the cold wood grounding you as everything else around you seemed to blur.

“Where is he?” you managed to ask, barely able to hold back the tremble in your voice.

Tommy looked at you, his eyes softening with regret, and then he finally spoke the words you were dreading to hear. “I don’t know yet. But we’re looking. We’re gonna bring him back.”

But it didn’t feel like enough. Not nearly enough.

The dread you’d felt all day was now a full-on tidal wave crashing through you. And the silence between you and Tommy stretched on, thick and suffocating, as your world began to unravel again.

You looked at Tommy, but his expression was distant, haunted by the same dread that clung to your own heart. His eyes were hard and red, but there was a flicker of something beneath them, something that looked like guilt, like he had already resigned himself to the possibility of losing Joel. And you couldn’t bear that. You couldn’t let it be true.

The world around you seemed to fade away, the noises of Jackson growing muffled, distant. It was just you and that empty space in your chest.

Where is he? Why can’t they find him?

“Please,” you whispered, your voice barely a breath. “He can’t be-he can’t be gone.”

Tommy’s silence was enough of an answer. You felt your knees go weak beneath you, your vision blurring, and for a moment, the world seemed to close around you. You barely caught yourself against the nearby wall, your body trembling violently as a cold sweat broke out across your skin.

“No”you gasped, shaking your head. “No... No, no, no...”

Everything around you shifted, the edges of reality blurring like the melting colors of a fading drawing. The walls seemed to warp, stretch. Your breath was quick and shallow, heart pounding in your chest.

Tommy’s voice reached you, but it felt like it was coming from miles away. “We’re gonna bring him back,” he repeated. But his words felt wrong, distant. The hollow tone of them echoed in your mind.

And then it all snapped into place.

A flash of bright light, too bright. A sharp pain in your chest. Joel’s face. Blood. The unmistakable scent of the forest. A scream, raw and panicked, splitting through the air.

You felt yourself falling, your vision spinning. The world kept shifting, twisting in strange angles you hadn’t seen before. Memories of Joel, his soft brown eyes, his smile, his touch. They all merged into one blurry mess, until they were impossible to separate. You reached out instinctively, your hands clawing at the air. But there was nothing there to hold on to. Just emptiness.

Was it real? Was he really gone?

A jolt of pain sliced through your head, and you gasped, your whole body seizing with terror. You could hear your voice, but it was distant, like someone else was screaming your name, calling for you to wake up.

"Wake up!"

Your eyes snapped open.

The room was still. The silence was deafening. Your chest heaved, each breath sharp and jagged as you fought to understand where you were. Everything felt wrong, like it didn’t belong. The cool air caressed your face with calloused fingertips.

You were still in your room.

But where was Joel?

Was he really-?

You turned, heart drumming against your ribcage as your eyes scanned the room, your pulse ringing in your ears. And there he was. Joel. Alive. But he wasn’t moving. His form was just an indistinct shadow in the moonlight, still and silent as the night itself.

Your breath caught in your throat as you reached for him, hands trembling.

“Joel?”

You whispered his name, too afraid to speak louder, afraid that it would shatter the fragile illusion you were holding on to. Your hands brushed against his arm, and the relief that flooded you was instant.

His skin was warm. He was real.

But as your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you noticed something odd.

Joel wasn’t looking at you.

The way his body was turned, half-covered by the shadows, the slow rise and fall of his chest... it wasn’t like him. Something felt off.

And then the silence broke. His breathing was ragged, strained.

Your heart stopped in your chest.

A voice, barely a whisper, weak and broken. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..."

And with that, everything slipped once again.

Was it real? Was this a nightmare you hadn’t woken from yet?

You couldn’t tell anymore.

Tags 💌: @jasminedragoon @orcasoul @missladym1981 @hiroikegawa @eleganthottubfun @lumpypoll @cuteanimalmama @thespookywookies @goodvibesonly421 @karaslqve @greenwitchfromthewoods @somedayheaven @bambisweethearts @joelsteinfeld @guelyury @biapascal @picketniffler @mrsyixingunicorn10 @httpvomitello @kulekehe @callmecath1 @persephone-girl @colmiillo @pedroswife69 @keileighr @capswife @fallout-girl219 @sullyselena @cymbalta-slut @my-tearsricochet

[good-beanswrites]

Summary: A truth-telling curse is both the best and worst time to plan your confession to your long-standing superpowered coworker.

Just a little shimamine thing featuring reluctant (but genuine) love confessions haha!

[tsukasalover]

I can think of a lot of reasons why I like and have gotten attached to tsukasa more than any other fictional character and i think if i had to keep it simple (or else id be rambling for hours) id say

1. He’s so interesting. I usually pick up the extremely mischaracterized blonde characters anyways but he gets my brain working real hard. its almost 2am and i cant think straight but theres something about his duality that keeps me glued to him and the amount of Layers he has and how removing even one layer or completely ignoring how both his huge ego and kindness + selflessness coexist can really mess up your perception of him. There was something quite short i wrote about how both sides make him. Well. Him. back when his colofes dropped since i was so annoyed at the people Not getting it (while most never even read the STORIES 😁) anf ive been screaming this for a year now Please. Also the way his dream and being a good big brother go hand in hand have captured me. I really like fictional siblings and they fill something personal i miss and Looove looking at the roots of characters. Discovering where this and that and connecting events to what started their behaviors or helped their personality bloom. So seeing saki and toya play such an important role in his life keeps me HOOOKEDDD. I took the bait like tiny fish. Dont regret it. Never will. I like my fictional characters like layered cake. Thats basically how i see them. I had a yummy chocolate cake with so mant layers the other day 🤤 but anyways. I also really like when characters have to learn and grow as people after making really bad mistakes or being straight up assholes so it really took a while even after mainstory but once i got to see more of him with saki and read dazzling i was like. This is the guyyy. Youre mine now lets go. I dont like perfect characters but.. you see.. when characters who have (sometimes way too much) confidence and are dramatic yet are shown to truly be good people who enjoy making others happy… alright.. now im listening… Sign me up…

But really he has almost everything I’ve ever looked for in a character. Starting with the fact that he’s a theatre kid. And blonde. Of course emu nene and rui + more fictional characters have made their way into my heart and ive gotten attached to them on very Very personal levels but when it comes to this Idiot who wants to be a star and reminds me of a dog its something that i dont even know how to explain sometimes. Why is he here? What are you doing inside of my head. Ill never have one solid answer because he takes up too much space in my mind and i become incoherent too often when talking about him.

2. Ignoring my first answer, He is ugly. My favorite punching bag. Cartoon character. Begins floating when he smells pie. I dont know anymore

3. he just like me fr (Which is terrible i dont like that)

[wuxian-vs-wangji]

Yeah... I remember seeing the architectural design majors at my uni having this breakdown each semester...

[hedgehog-moss]

Today was very sunny so I went on a nice long walk in the woods with Pirlouit, to stock up on kindling for the winter. He was walking jauntily, I think he really does enjoy going on little missions with his baskets! Now and then I tied him to a tree surrounded by enough vegetation to keep him busy for a bit, and I gathered wood all around him while singing to him. Avec le soleil et le vent ♪ avec la pluie et le beau temps ♫ on vivait bien contents ♪ mon âne, ma Provence et moi ♫ (Technically this song says cheval, not âne, but I always replace the word horse with donkey so my songs are more interesting to him. The only donkey songs I know are very sad, like Le petit âne gris which ends with "Poor beast of burden, abandoned by men, he died without a farewell", I can't possibly sing this to Pirlouit. He already has a resting sad face that he can't do anything about.)

I heard leaves crunching behind us, a few times. Steps. Discreet steps. I turned around, looking for the deer who was apparently following us from a distance.

^ Do you see her? Right in the middle. I saw her immediately, but only because I have had so much practice.

Hello, Pampérigouste.

Sometimes all she wants is to be witnessed. "Aha, do you see me? I'm out of my pasture!! You lost! Look at me" and then I'm like "I see you, Pampe. Wow!! How ever did you fool me again?" and she goes home, having ticked this off her Sunday morning to-do list.

But today she wanted to play. Instead of going home she kept trotting away from me in the direction of the road; this hilarious game is known as "Can you catch me before I'm on the road? :)"

I did not want to play. I had wood to gather, and Pirlouit was still tied to his tree and he hates being left behind, like a poor beast of burden abandoned by men. He was already braying angrily. I decided to wash my hands of Pampe, which sometimes works to make her go home. You need to act supremely uninterested in her for it to work. If you glance back at her she'll assume you're still playing, and continue prancing about in the woods.

I'm great at not glancing back. If Eurydice was my llama I would have saved her no problem. I went back to collecting wood, never paying attention to Pampe, even when Pirlouit turned around and stared in the direction of the road, his ears alert, doing his best to inform me that Pampe was going in this not-allowed direction.

Stop it, Pirou. We're ignoring her. Do you want me to leave you alone again? I bet she'll get bored before she even reaches the road, and if she doesn't, well, godspeed. Someone somewhere will get a free llama and she will be their problem. (I had a busy to-do list of my own for this afternoon so the question of how she escaped from her pasture is a problem for tomorrow-me.)

But then I went home and drafted some Pirlouit photos on tumblr to write a post tonight about our wood-gathering walk—and I read some asks from this week that I hadn't yet got around to reading, and I found this. (@confusedpersonsposts Thank you for sending it!) A wandering llama, terrorising horses. The article says this happened Sunday morning.

(I really love the shade that makes this look like a police lineup)

The second ask said "yesterday" (and was from a few days ago)—but the first one I saw was the message with the screenshot from the article, which said Sunday morning, which was exactly when I left Pampe walk away by herself and told her to go be someone else's problem.

For a second, in my brain, it made some kind of sense.

[sturnsreckless]

𝐘𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐑,, c.sturniolo

summary. . . chris is yapping away with his fingers in your mouth because you kept interrupting him

pairing. . . chris sturniolo x fem!reader

warnings. . . gagging

a/n. . . this has been sitting in my drafts for quite some time, i completely forgot about this

“there’s so much shit i need to do for my brand tomorrow, like-“ chris says but being cut off by your voice for the fifth time and he’s only been talking for ten minutes.

“oh my god. i’m so excited for you to release the new items, they’re all so cute.” you gush with excitement as you think about the baby tees and hoodies chris has designed.

“yeah. i think this will be the-“ chris attempts to talk but gets cut off by you, yet again.

“that baby pink baby tee? that looks like heaven. it’s so cute, i can’t wait to-.” you say, but quickly stop as you turn to chris and see the unamused look on his face.

“what’s the problem, baby?” you ask furrowing your brows.

“you. you’re the problem at the moment, actually.” he says with a smirk growing on his face as he trails his hand up your arm, holding his hand in place when it reaches your jaw, “you’ve interrupted me so many times.” he whispers, leaning his face closer to yours as he moves his ring and middle finger up to yours lips.

you and chris kept intense eye contact as he pushes his fingers into your mouth until the lay flat in the middle of your tongue.

his finger’s sit in your mouth for a moment before he pushes them the slightest bit further in. “i swear you never let me talk.” his icy blue eyes stay locked on yours as he moves his fingers just a little more.

when he finally stills his fingers in your mouth, you attempt to talk again, “i do, i let you talk all the time” you try to say but it comes out muffled.

“all the time?” chris repeats back with a scoff, his fingers moving ever so slightly in your mouth, clearly not believing you. he knows you don’t ever let him talk. he just loves any excuse to tease you.

“maybe not all the time, but most of the time” you say but when you do chris plunges his fingers to the back of your throat, causing you to gag on his fingers and tears fill your eyes. and when they do chris pulls his fingers back to sit on your tongue, “now let me talk” he says.

his fingers sit with a little more pressure on your tongue as he waits for you to nod in agreement, watching the tears form in your eyes as you try to recover from the gag. he knows you’ll agree, you always agree.

you slowly nod your head. chris smirks then continues talking, “now you’re finally letting me get a word in. so yeah, the new drop is in about two weeks so i have a bunch of shit i need to sort between now and then.”

his fingers sit still in your mouth as he talks, his other hand that’s around your waist moving up and down your side gently. while his fingers don’t move, they do apply more pressure as he talks, making it harder and harder for you to concentrate on what he’s saying.

chris has yapped and yapped for the past 15 minutes with no interruptions, due to obvious reasons.

you let out a hum as chris brings up something you really want to talk about, but he glares at you and pushes his fingers further down your throat, causing you to gag again.

he smirks as you gag around his fingers again, he’s got such power over you at the moment as he’s in full control. every time you moan, hum, or try to say something, he gags you again. he knows there’s something you want to ask, and he finds this whole situation way too amusing, “there something you want to say, baby?” he taunts with a sly smirk on his face.

he watches intently as you hum and moan around his fingers, his smirk never leaving his face. he loves how powerless you are right now. no matter how hard you try to talk, his fingers will always stop you, and it makes him so amused. he knows that there’s something you want to ask, and he’s fully enjoying taunting you.

“sorry baby, it’s my turn to talk. not yours. but you’ll get your chance later, just not now.” he says in a mocking tone. chris lets out a small chuckle as he watches you struggle. he knows how badly you want to ask him the question, but he’s loving this too much to give you the chance too. “you’re just gonna have to wait a while, baby. i still have more to say. don’t worry.”

he continues rambling on for another ten minutes. this time he only had to gag you twice, unlike last time he had to do it countless times. you really wanted to talk so you brung your hand up to chris’ hand that is in your mouth and attempt to pull it away from your mouth, which chris doesn’t like.

as soon as your hand comes up to his, he pulls it back and pushes his fingers even further in your mouth, his smirk growing as he watches you. he lets out a small huff, “no, princess, don’t try that. this is my turn to talk, not yours. you don’t listen. i have to remind you who’s in charge, don’t i?” he says in a mocking tone.

you look up at him with pleading eyes, silently begging him to let you talk.

chris looks down at you, seeing your pleading eyes and he feels his heart fluttering. every time you look at him like that, he just wants to give in and do anything for you. but not this time, though. no, no, no. right now he’s enjoying how much control he has, and he isn’t giving that up. “ah, princess, baby. stop looking at me like that. that’s not gonna work this time. i’m in charge right now.”

your body deflates when he says that. you really thought chris was going to let talk this time, but you were wrong.

chris notices your body deflates, seeing you give up. he lets out a soft chuckle; the whole situation was so amusing to him. he’s got you right where he wants you - at his mercy. he loves having power over you like this; it’s such a huge turn on for him. he can’t help but tease you a little bit more. “aww, princess. did you really think i was gonna let you talk? after all the times you’ve cut me off? that’s really cute.”

@sturnsreckless

[kill4luvina]

"Right thru me"

Onyankopon x Black!Reader

Summary : You and your man been havin' this dumb argument, and he know you so well it lowkey freaks you out. Especially today because he already had your whole routine down from prior nights when you'd act up exactly like this.

CW : SMUT, Pussy Slapping, Overstimulation, reader tryna run from the dick,Unprotected sex, (probably a lil more),not proof read. (This is a really really old draft im posting.)

" What are we doin'? Could you see through me? 'Cause you say, "Y/N," and I say, "Who, me?" And you say, "No, you," and I say, "Screw you"

Your jaw would drop as your stared at your boyfriend after hearing the bullshit that just came out his mouth. "You blowin my shi, like shut the actual fuck up." You'd say before turning your body away from him annoyed as fuck. "Mamas, you know damn well this ain't worth gettin' all worked up about," Ony would say, glancin' at you for a sec before realizing you were genuinely mad.

"Mamas… can you at least finish my hair before you get mad…?" he'd ask, getting up from where he was sitting and slowly walking over to you. You'd turn your back quickly, throwing the comb you had from doing his hair straight at him. He'd catch it, pissing you off even more as you stormed off into your room, leaving him completely alone in the living room.

He already knew you'd be in your room hitting your vape like a mad woman just out of pure anger. "Mamas.." He'd call from the opposite side of the door, slowly opening as you two make eye contact. "Come back please," he'd plead, already knowing you'd say no as you'd turn your body so your back was now facing him.

You'd hit your vape a couple of times before feeling a small kiss in your neck. "I'm sorry.." He'd whisper softly, knowing this always made you weak. Even before this, in a life before when it came to him his soul knew how to make yours feel better no matter what.

"Why would you say that..?" You'd ask firmly, trying to stand your ground. You'd be caught off guard feeling Ony's warm hands up against your skin. He'd softly play with your tits under your shirt leaving soft love bites on your neck. "You know I don't mean it.." he'd whisper.

"Onyyy-" you'd moan eyes rolling back as you felt his dick hitting you in all the right places. Your pussy creaming all over his dick as he gave you slow deep strokes. "You like that?" He'd ask, slapping your ass as he kept a constant speed.

"Oh-- oh my god.." You'd cry as you felt him pull out slapping his dick against your pussy. Slowly pushing himself back in you'd push your hips back so it'd slip in faster. He'd softly whimper, his eyes focusing on how your pussy swallowed him whole.

"Mama's, stop acting like you can take this dick.." He'd slap your ass getting a gasp out of you. "Y-yes I can!" You'd try to say as you started fucking back into him trying to prove him wrong.

"You always saying that shit until I'm rearranging your guts and you runnin'.." He'd said as he used a hand to push you head down into the bed, already aware of what your stubborn ass was gonna say. "Onyy, fuck mee" you'd whine getting your head pushed down, arching your back more for him.

"mmhm," He'd say putting a leg up onto the bed, as he started to pick up his pace. His eyes focusing now how creamy he could make your pussy, your moans getting louder as you tried your hardest to keep fucking back into him to prove him wrong.

Your eyes getting blurry the moment you felt a slap to your ass, whining you'd turn to look up at him. "Ony, stop being so mean.." You'd weakly let out as you kept fucking yourself onto his dick, he'd raise a brow before pulling out and slapping your pussy. "Ony!" You'd moan the mixture of pain & pleasure confusing you.

He'd go right back to fucking you, but this time his thrusts were deeper, quicker and much more rough. Not even a minute passes by and your cumming, your eyes rolling so far back as your pussy tightened around him.

"See, look at you, a mess." He'd say still fucking you, at the same pace but even rougher. "O-onyyy, too muchhh." you'd cry tears already rolling down you cheek as you felt him speeding up his pace. "But you can take it, right?" He'd continue as he'd slap your ass here and there.

"Can'ttt" you'd cry, reaching a hand back to attempt to push him back. "Mama's, what i said abt running from the dick?" he'd ask ignoring your silly attempt as he picked the pace up fucking you even deeper. "ddont rememberr" you'd babble out feeling like you couldn't remember anything.

"yeah, alright. just move this fucking hand."

" You make me laugh, you make hoarse from yelling at you And getting at you, picking up dishes, throwing them at you "

[dinogoofymutated]

Hi can you write something for Logan? I don’t have anything in particular in mind, but I never see this man get any love. Thanks!

NSFW!Wolverine/AFAB! Reader

Hope this is okay! I tried so hard to post it last night but tumblr kept failing on me. It wouldn't even save as a draft! If you see this before I've added the meat to the fic, it's because I'm testing because tumblr is being a dick and I'll edit in the good stuff soon.

Edit: Yay! It worked! I was just uploading too much at once I guess. Had to brake it all down for it to work!

Tw: MNDI!! pnv, fem reader, creampie, size difference, petnames. Praise kink.

If you asked him personally, Logan would say he's extremely unlucky, cursed even. and With everything he's gone through, he might be correct. But still, he is certainly blessed in at least one aspect.

Logan had a really, really nice cock. It wasn't pretty like the perfect ones in porn, but damn, was it nice. It has prominent veins that you couldn't help but spoil every time you your hands (or mouth) on him. He was flushed a deep red color at the stip, and proportional, a good 5 or six comfortable inches.

The only thing is, Logan's cock was thick. impressively, deliciously thick. When the two of you started to take your relationship to the next level, Logan didn't hesitate to warn you. That didn't stop him from Taking care of you though. He'd pump his thick fingers in an out of you, curling and stretching you, finding the most pleasure spots inside of you to get you to cum and cum hard.

But every time the two of you would get close to going further, he'd back out. It wasn't that he was uncomfortable, or that he didn't want to, he just wanted to make sure he didn't hurt you.He'd always end up saying “ ‘next time, sunshine.” Or “Just wanna make sure I take care of you properly.” and although it was sweet, you knew what you could handle, and you were determined to climb this man like a tree.

And if there was anything Logan knew more than anything, it was to never get in the way of a determined woman.

You had spent what felt like hours in Logan's sheets, his fingers curling deep in your cunt, stretching and touching the most sensitive parts of you. He kissed every tender part of you, letting you writhe and moan underneath him. He wanted to make sure that you were ready for him beyond a shadow of a doubt, knowing how stubborn you are when you really want something. This was no different. And after Cumming twice on his fingers, you were sure you could make it work. Logan sighed as you straddled him, grinding his cock against your slick cunt to try and lube him up. He sets his hands on your thighs, comfortingly caressing the plush skin. The two of you gasp when his head brushes against your Clit, an electric shock of pleasure bolting through your bodies. Logan is laid back against the pillows on his bed, looking up at you with a heated gaze.

“ ‘you okay there, doll?” He asks, the words rumbling through his chest with a groan. He smirks just barely as you scoff, adjusting yourself on your knees as you line his cock up with your slit.

“I'm- fine, I can do this.” You huff, grinding down against his thick head. Logan sucks in a breath as you do so, teeth latching onto his lip as we watches you desperately try to take him. He's not going in as easy as you thought he would, and it almost makes you feel discouraged. You were so sure you could take him, and you didn't want to quit now. Your eyebrows furrow as you struggle, and at some point his cock slips out and away from your hole. Logan lets out a grunt as you flinch, mortified.

“Ah- Sorry.” You're doing your best to not let it get to you, but there was such a sinking feeling in your chest. Almost as if he can sense it, Logan reaches up, taking your chin in-between his thumb and index finder and tilting your head down to look at him.

“It's okay.” Logan assures you. “Just relax. You'll get it.” His thumb drags across your lip, calloused hand brushing against your tits as he brings it down to your clit. He circles the nub gently first, then with a tad bit more pressure. You hear him chuckle as you eyes flutter closed, moaning at the pleasurable sensation.

“okay.” You sigh, trying to align himself with you once again. You try it a little slower this time, grinding down with just enough pressure. The both of you gasp when the head of his cock notches against your slit, an improvement from before. Then, almost suddenly, it slides in.

“Fuck.” Logan grunts. His cock was hardly halfway inside, but that didn't stop the moans you let out at the pleasure- and slight discomfort- of having him inside you. The stretch was slightly painful, but you can't seem to stop yourself from grinding against him, trying to take him further.

“Logan…” The whine of his name comes out involuntarily, and the strong man inbetween your thighs shushes you sweetly, adjusting himself so he's sitting against the headboard. He brings you closer to him, snaking his hand around the nape of your neck to bring you into a kiss. He hardly gives himself time to breathe in between kisses. Logan bites your lip, licking into your mouth when you gasp at the painful pinch. He groans when you clench around his length. Still not quite adjusted to what you could fit, and his hand grabs hold onto your thighs and squeezes.

“I know, sweetheart.” He says, finally pulling back. “I know. Take your time. I'm not going anywhere.” You bite your lip, leaning your head on his shoulder as you begin to move your hips again. The process is slow, sinking onto him inch by inch as your body adjusts to the girth, but when you finally feel the base of his cock finally sink into you, you've never felt so accomplished.

“Good girl.” Logan grunts into your ear. “ ‘did such a good job.” You yelp a little as his hips jerk, thrusting up into you. You cry out Logan's name, holding onto his shoulders as he starts to slowly pull out of you, gently thrusting back inside as he cups your face, kissing you gently. It feels good. Like he's rubbing against every spot inside of you perfectly. His slow, loving pace felt good, so, so good. But it could only keep the two of you satisfied for so long. The next time Logan pulls out of you, you slam down with a little more force. He lets out a choked moan, before you hear him chuckle. He pulls away from you just slightly, arms wrapped around your waist as he smirks at the needy look on your face. You're impatient however, and grind against him sharply when he stops moving. A flicker of pleasure flashes across his face before he's growling. He pulls you against him, pressed flush against your body as he begins to thrust more aggressively.

“Couldn't be patient, could you?” He growls. Your noises are embarrassingly loud as he picks up speed, fucking into you just like you had spent so much time imagining he would- and he was right too. You couldn't be patient. He moves his hips just slightly, hitting that one spongy spot inside of you that makes you see stars. You can't help but cry out, and without having to even tell him, he's hitting thay spot over and over again without fail. His grunts and groans are starting to get louder, and you can feel the knot in your stomach coming so close to snapping.

“Fuck- Logan!” He groans at the way you say his name, the knot snapping as you reach your peak and cum hard on his cock. He curses, burying his face into your neck as he starts to crumble at the feeling of your warm walls fluttering around him, desperately trying to milk him for what he's worth. He almost lets out a whine as he cums, and the noise surprises you. You can feel him twitch as spurts of his cum warm up your insides. By the time he's done, you're sure he must be leaking out of you. You lay against him, boneless as the two of you pant for air. Logan begins to press gentle kisses against your neck, praising you for how well you did. You sigh, content. Logan lays the two of you down on the bed, holding you close as his cock starts to soften inside of you.

Logan Howlett was definitely blessed.

[mononijikayu]

boy, i, boy, i, boy, i know i know you got the feels — fushiguro megumi.

“You… want to be with me?” he repeated slowly, like he needed to say it out loud to make sure he understood. “Yes!” you said, more firmly this time. “I like you, Megumi. A lot!” For a long moment, he didn’t move, didn’t speak. “What..what do you mean by like? Do you mean…like like…..or…” You looked at him confused. “But of course I like you, Megumi. You’re like my best friend!” He lowered his head. “I see.” When Gojo Satoru heard all about that, he laughed so hard he fell off a chair. Fushiguro Tsumiki was worried but Fushiguro Megumi just slapped his arm while he coughed for air.

Genre: Alternate Universe — Canon Convergence;

Warning/s: Romance, Love, Fluff, First Love, Faling In Love, Hurt/Comfort, Strangers to Friends, Friends to Lovers, Feelings, Confessions, Anxiety, Self-Esteem, Awkwardness, Teasing, Sibling Relationship, Light-Hearted, Slice of Life, Humor, Protectiveness, Happy Ending, Teenage Angst, Young Love Is a Pain, Teenagers Going Through It, Sorcerer! Reader, Mild-Tsundere! Megumi, Mild-Tsundere! Reader, Gojo Satoru as a Brother;

Words: 7.8k words.

note: i wrote this maybe twice or thrice. i didn't like multiple drafts, so i kept rewriting. this was supposed to be more and more about the introspection of young people. i don't think i had that sort of phase. mine was pretty different. so i had to look into that feeling, like what would it feel like as a teenager to fall in love like this? anyway, i hope you enjoy this a lot. i love you all!!! <3

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IT WAS HARD TO EXIST THE WAY YOU WANTED. You feel like you’ve been like that all your life—too much. It doesn’t help that you were born a Gojo, like your brother. The expectations that came with the name were already heavy, but add that to everything else, and you stood out whether you wanted to or not.

You’ve always been taller—taller than the other girls in your class, taller than most of the boys too. It’s the kind of height that made you stick out awkwardly in photos, your limbs feeling too long, too noticeable, and like they never quite fit where they should.

And just as much, you were too loud. You were the kid who couldn’t sit still, who laughed too hard, and who spoke before thinking. You always had an opinion, a comment, or some joke to crack.

But while some people admired the confidence, others found it overwhelming. You’d hear them whisper about how you didn’t know how to take up less space, how you didn’t know when to stop talking. Even if they didn’t say it out loud, you could feel it—their exhaustion with your presence.

But none of their words mattered—not really. Because you never felt alone. Not when you had your brother. Satoru, with all his power and his cocky grin, had a way of making things lighter, easier. Like nothing in the world could ever bother you as long as he was there.

He always knew how to turn everything into a joke, how to lift the weight of the world off your shoulders like it was nothing. When people teased you for being too much, for being the loud Gojo girl who towered over everyone, he’d shrug it off like it was all beneath him. He never made you feel like you were too much for him.

With Satoru, it didn’t matter if you were awkward, clumsy, or too tall. He’d laugh with you, poke fun at your height like it was something to be proud of. And when people couldn’t handle you, when they stepped back because your energy was just a little too wild for them, Satoru was always there. He made you feel like the world was yours to take, that being "too much" was just another way of being more than enough.

Gojo Satoru was larger than life. He was the type who filled a room with his presence, never shy, never hesitant, always overflowing with energy. You followed in his wake, figuring that you’d grow up just like him—bold, confident, and, if you were lucky, a little ridiculous too.

People gravitated toward your brother, and you always figured they’d do the same with you, that you’d never feel small because you’d learned from the best how to be big, even if it wasn’t in the way you looked.

But of course, he had his own life too. And he was older than you. He had duties and dreams and hopes that he was going to chase after. Slowly but surely, you realized that your brother was not always going to be in your life.

You realized that he was going to live a life beyond you. He has to. And in the mind of a little girl, that had triggered some things. And you were inconsolable. You had never felt more distraught in your life.

“What are you even crying about?”

You had looked up, with your tear ridden blue eyes.

Blue–green gleams burned against your own orbs.

Then, there was Fushiguro Megumi.

Satoru had introduced you to him when you were both kids. It was a warm summer afternoon, and you remembered standing beside your brother, peeking curiously at the quiet boy who looked so out of place at your energetic, whirlwind of a home. 

“This is Megumi, little sis.” Satoru had said, patting the boy’s head with a wide grin. “He’s going to stay with us for a while with his sister. Take care of him, okay?”

You remembered Megumi’s solemn face, those intense, dark eyes peering up at you with a mix of wariness and confusion. Something about him stuck with you right away. He wasn’t like Satoru at all.

Where your brother was loud, brash, and always moving like a force of nature, Megumi was quiet, reserved, and even a little distant. But in that stillness, there was a calm that made you feel safe in a way you hadn’t expected. His presence was grounding, like he didn’t need to be loud to make an impact. The more time you spent around him, the more drawn in you became.

Even as a kid, you knew there was something special about him, something that made your heart skip in a way that confused you at first. He didn’t chase after attention like others did. He seemed comfortable being on the sidelines, watching quietly as if the chaos around him couldn’t reach him. And somehow, that pulled you in even more.

You’d find yourself watching him—whether it was during meals when he’d quietly pick at his food while Satoru jabbered on about nonsense, or when he’d curl up in a corner of the house, reading a book that looked too difficult for his age. You admired how steady he was, how he always seemed so unaffected by the noise and chaos that surrounded him.

One time, you even tried to mimic that calmness. You’d sat beside him in the living room, crossing your legs and folding your hands neatly in your lap, glancing over at him to see if he noticed. Megumi had looked up from his book, raising an eyebrow slightly. 

“What… are you doing?”

“Trying to be calm.” you’d announced proudly, puffing your chest out a little. “Like you.”

He blinked at you, his serious expression almost comically puzzled. “Why?”

“Because you’re… cool!” you’d blurted out, cheeks heating up. “You’re, um, like a cat. Quiet and… mysterious.” Even back then, you were terrible at explaining yourself, but the words just tumbled out in your eagerness to be understood.

Megumi’s lips twitched, and you’d swear you saw the faintest hint of a smile. “A cat?” he echoed, looking almost amused.

“Yeah!” you’d nodded enthusiastically. “Cats don’t need to be loud or run around to be interesting. They just… are. Like you.”

He’d stared at you for a moment, then ducked his head, ears turning pink. “That’s… a weird thing to say.”

You’d deflated a little, afraid you’d embarrassed yourself, but then Megumi had quietly shifted a bit closer, still looking down at his book. “But… thanks.” he’d mumbled, voice barely above a whisper. “I guess.”

That small, almost shy acknowledgment had made your heart swell with a warmth you didn’t quite understand. From then on, you found yourself seeking out his company more and more, content to sit beside him even if neither of you spoke much. Back then, it was simple. You just wanted to be near him, to be a part of that quiet space he seemed to create around himself.

But it wasn’t long before that simple admiration started to turn into something more. You’d catch yourself staring at him a little longer, noticing things like the way his eyes softened when he looked at you or how his hair would fall just a bit over his forehead, making you want to brush it away. Whenever Satoru teased him and made him blush, you felt an inexplicable urge to do something, anything, to make him smile instead.

Years later, that feeling only grew stronger, until it became impossible to ignore. And now, standing under the sakura trees, feeling like your heart might burst out of your chest, you finally realized why. Megumi had always been special to you, in a way no one else ever could be. And the thought of telling him that was terrifying—but also, thrilling.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “Hey, Megumi,” you called out softly, stepping closer to where he stood. He glanced up, surprised by the sound of your voice cutting through the silence. “Do you remember when I said you’re like a cat?”

Megumi frowned slightly, as if trying to recall, then gave a hesitant nod. “Yeah, I think so. Why?”

“Well…” You bit your lip, fighting the urge to look away. “I still think that. But I also think… you’re more than just that.”

His eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“You’re…” You took a deep breath, the words coming out in a rush. “You’re everything I’ve always wanted, Megumi. You’re kind, and you make me feel safe. And… and I want to be with you. Always.”

The silence that followed was almost unbearable. Megumi just stared at you, his eyes wide, his mouth slightly open as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“You… want to be with me?” he repeated slowly, like he needed to say it out loud to make sure he understood.

“Yes!” you said, more firmly this time. “I like you, Megumi. A lot!”

For a long moment, he didn’t move, didn’t speak. “What..what do you mean by like? Do you mean…like like…..or…”

You looked at him confused. “But of course I like you, Megumi. You’re like my best friend!”

He lowered his head. “I see.”

When Gojo Satoru heard all about that, he laughed so hard he fell off a chair. Fushiguro Tsumiki was worried but Fushiguro Megumi just slapped his arm while he coughed for air.

But as you grew older, those feelings started to change, become more complex, more uncertain. It wasn’t just a childhood crush anymore; it was something deeper. You found yourself thinking about Megumi in ways that left you feeling vulnerable, like there was a part of you that would always be reaching out to him, even if you weren’t sure he’d reach back.

It hits you suddenly;like lightning straight to your heart. You’re sitting on the couch with Megumi and your brother Satoru, casually chatting about nothing in particular, but every time Megumi glances your way, something flips inside you. It’s ridiculous, really, how just the smallest brush of his fingers against yours sends you spiraling.

You try to stay composed, but your mind is racing, wondering if he feels it too. Does his heart skip when your knees touch? Is he trying to steal glances at you the way you do when he’s not looking? Your thoughts swirl—Catching feels like butterflies—and it’s getting harder to focus on the conversation.

Satoru notices immediately, of course. The knowing smirk on his face is impossible to miss.

"Hey, you good?" he asks, voice laced with amusement. "You're looking kinda flushed. Maybe it's the heat—oh wait, maybe it's just Cupid."

You shoot him a glare, but the grin on his face only widens.

"Shut up." you mutter, crossing your arms, though the heat in your cheeks betrays you. “Focus on everything else except me.”

He leans in closer, eyes glinting with mischief. "Ooooh, are you catching feels?" He snickers, clearly enjoying your discomfort. "This is too good! I thought you were just spacing out, but nope, you're totally—boom-boom-boom from head to toe."

Megumi glances over, raising an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?"

Before you can even attempt to answer, Satoru’s all over it, teasing mercilessly. "Oh, nothing! Just my dearest sister here having a bit of a heart-fluttering moment. But don’t worry, Megumi, she’s just having a moment. But boy, I know, boy I know, my sis has the feels!"

You want to disappear right then and there. Of course, Satoru would turn this into a full-blown spectacle. You manage to meet Megumi’s gaze, and to your surprise, there’s a slight flush on his cheeks too.

"Ignore him, okay?" Megumi says, voice calm but softer than usual. He smiles at you, for a moment. You could feel yourself getting hot. He was pretty when he smiled. Oh my god. “He’s just…annoying again.”

“Nuh-uh!”

“Spoken like a child.”

It gives you a little hope, just enough to make you wonder if maybe—just maybe—his heart beats the same way.

But before you can dwell on that, Satoru’s voice cuts through the moment, "You’re both hopeless! Just admit it already. This is too entertaining."

You groan, burying your face in your hands, but there’s no denying it anymore. You’ve got all the feels, and Satoru isn’t about to let you forget it. “Shut up!”

“No!” He snickers back at you, tongue out. 

“I’m telling mom about this!”

“Hey, don’t! Mom’s gonna yell at me!”

The doubt crept in slowly at first. You couldn’t help but notice how different you were from the girls Megumi seemed to glance at from time to time—small, delicate girls, the kind that looked like they belonged in some romantic movie. Girls who were easy to hold, easy to protect. Girls who fit perfectly into that image of what you thought a guy like Megumi might want.

It’s not like you’d caught him staring or anything, but you’d seen the way his eyes lingered on them, just for a second longer than usual. It wasn’t anything obvious, but you noticed—of course, you noticed. And once you did, it was like a seed of doubt planted itself in your mind, growing roots and spreading.

You’re not like that. Not even close.

You’re too loud. Always have been. The kind of loudness that people notice before you even say a word. The one who laughs too hard at jokes, talks over people without meaning to, and fills every silence with something because you hate the quiet. Megumi, though? He thrives in the quiet. His calm, composed presence is so opposite to your own chaotic energy that it feels like a constant reminder of how you could never be his type.

And then there’s the height thing. You’re not sure why it bothers you so much, but it does. You’ve caught yourself slouching a little around him, trying to shrink yourself because standing next to Megumi, you feel like you’re towering over him. You feel awkward, too tall, like you’re out of place in his world of composed strength.

It’s silly, right? He’s not short, not by any means, but standing next to him? It feels like you take up too much space, like you’re the hurricane and he’s the calm in the storm. How could someone like that ever be into someone like you?

And it’s not just your height. It’s everything. You’re messy, clumsy, always blurting out what’s on your mind without thinking. Megumi’s quiet, reserved, the kind of guy who takes his time to process things, to consider every angle. Meanwhile, you’re tripping over your words, interrupting without meaning to, and trying way too hard to fill the silence when you know you should probably just shut up.

You groan inwardly, sinking further into the couch as Satoru continues to tease you, his voice still echoing in your head. "You’re totally catching feels, sis." he had said, laughing like it was the funniest thing in the world. And maybe to him, it is. But to you? It’s terrifying.

Because you know—you know—that you’re not the kind of person Megumi would go for. You’re not the small, delicate girl who looks like she stepped out of a dream. You’re loud, too tall, too much. And even if Megumi’s too polite to say anything, you can’t help but think that deep down, he’s got to notice it too.

Maybe that’s why you’ve been trying to ignore these feelings. They don’t make sense. How could they? You’re so different, and not in a way that balances out. More like in a way that makes you wonder what you’re even doing here, sitting next to him, pretending like you belong.

You risk a glance at Megumi. He’s focused on the TV, his usual thoughtful expression in place. He’s probably not even thinking about you, not the way you’re obsessing over every little detail. And why would he?

Guys like him don’t go for girls like you.

One evening, you found yourself sprawled on the couch, a bowl of popcorn balancing precariously on your stomach as you stared at the ceiling, sighing dramatically for the tenth time in five minutes.

Satoru, who was sitting at the dining table messing with his phone, finally looked up, one eyebrow raised. “Alright, what’s the deal? You’ve been sighing like you’re auditioning for a soap opera. You’ve been out of it for a while.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help a small laugh. “It’s nothing. It’s just… falling in love is so hard.”

Satoru’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “Oh? Now we’re talking about love, huh?” He grinned and wiggled his eyebrows like he was about to drop some great wisdom. “Who’s the unlucky guy? Is it Hibari Kyoya this time? Or….well…Jeon Jungkook?”

You groaned and buried your face in the couch pillow. “It’s not about one guy! It’s the whole process. It’s exhausting. Why can’t it just be easy?”

Satoru walked over and plopped down beside you, stealing a handful of your popcorn. “Easy? Love is supposed to be fun. I’m fun, and I’m great at love. What are you doing wrong? Tell big brother, little sis.”

You shot him a death glare, which only made him chuckle. “You make everything sound like a competition. I can’t exactly just… Gojo Satoru my way through love.”

“I mean, you could.” he said, popping a kernel into his mouth. “Have you tried being as charming as me?”

“Oh, please. I am charming!” you said, sitting up and throwing a piece of popcorn at him. “It’s just… ugh, you know what I mean. It’s like every time I like someone, they’re all obsessed with those cute, tiny, delicate girls. And then there’s me.” You gestured at your tall frame with both hands, adding a dramatic flair. “Loud, unignorable, tall-as-a-tree me. Freak of nature, if you will!”

Satoru snorted. “You make it sound like you’re a giraffe or something. And please, you’re hardly a freak of nature. I’m tall and petite all the same.”

“Sometimes it feels like it!” you huffed, crossing your arms. “Do you know how hard it is to casually lean on someone when they’re two heads shorter than you? I could break them!”

“Good point.” Satoru said with mock seriousness. “Being tall and fabulous is clearly a burden.”

You shot him a look. “Don’t patronize me, you’re not helping.”

Satoru laughed and patted your head like you were a puppy. “Come on, what’s wrong with being tall? It’s your thing. Own it. Besides, nothing you can do about Gojo genes. We are tall.”

You sighed again, this time more dramatically. “It’s not just the height, Satoru-nii. It’s everything! The girls guys like are all quiet and soft, and I’m like… a walking megaphone with legs for days.”

Satoru smirked. “First of all, you’re not a megaphone. Maybe a karaoke machine, at worst.”

You threw a cushion at him, but he ducked easily, still grinning. “And second of all,” he continued, “you’re focusing on the wrong stuff. Guys don’t just like small, quiet girls. That’s a myth. Trust me, you just need to find the guy who appreciates that you could easily dunk on him in basketball.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that image. “Oh yeah, super romantic. ‘Hey, babe, let me dunk on you real quick.’”

“Exactly!” Satoru said with a wink. “You’ve got to use what makes you awesome, not hide it. I mean, look at Meg—” He cut himself off, eyes twinkling mischievously. “You know, I thought I was gonna set it aside, maybe you’re too logical about things but….”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you instantly went into defense mode. “W–what about Megumi?”

“Nothing, nothing!” he said, holding up his hands innocently. “Just saying, he’s quiet, and you’re loud. Could be a good balance. You never know…”

You blushed furiously, tossing the rest of your popcorn at him. “Satoru-nii! He’s your student! I can’t just and someone under your care—ugh!”

Satoru laughed like this was the most entertaining thing he’d heard all week. “Hey, all I’m saying is, maybe you’re thinking about this whole ‘falling in love’ thing too hard. Maybe you’re already in love and just don’t know what to do about it. Or maybe….you just don’t want to talk about it, per se.”

You glared at him, but he kept going, grinning like a cat who had caught a mouse. “Besides, if Megumi ever needs someone to keep him grounded, who better than you? You’d definitely shake up his boring, quiet life. He likes color too, you know. He’s just…more somber about it. You know how he is!”

You groaned and flopped back down on the couch, hiding your face again. “I don’t even know if he likes me, okay? He’s probably never looked at me that way before or ever, and I’m just… me. What if he thinks I’m annoying?”

Satoru rolled his eyes dramatically. “Please. Everyone thinks you’re annoying, and they still like you.” He dodged another pillow you threw at him and continued, “Besides, Megumi doesn’t hang out with people unless he likes them. Have you ever seen him willingly spend time with anyone else besides me? Or Kugisaki or Itadori?”

You blinked. That was a good point. Megumi did spend a lot of time with you—more than with most other people. But still…

“You think so?” you mumbled, feeling a glimmer of hope creep in.

Satoru gave you a soft smile—an unusually sincere expression for him. “Yeah, I do. And even if he’s not into it right now, anyone who can’t appreciate you for who you are is an idiot. You’re a catch, even if you do throw pillows like a five-year-old.”

You snorted, wiping at your eyes. “Thanks, I guess?”

“Anytime, little sis!” Satoru said, leaning back and tossing another piece of popcorn into his mouth. “Now, if you’re done complaining, let’s figure out how you can subtly drop-kick your way into Megumi’s heart.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled anyway. “I’m not drop-kicking him.”

“Too bad. It would’ve been fun to watch.”

“You’re so annoying, I hate you.”

He grinned. “No you don’t!”

HE WISHED HE WASN’T SUCH A KLUTZ ABOUT THIS. Fushiguro Megumi sat there, staring at his phone screen, his thumb hovering over the “send” button like it was some kind of bomb he wasn’t ready to detonate.

He had typed the message about ten times, erased it nine, and now, here he was, sweating over the tenth. All he needed to do was press send. That’s it. Just one tap, and he’d finally take a step toward telling you how he really felt.

But, as usual, his mind spiraled with doubts.

What if she doesn’t feel the same? What if this ruins everything? What if she’s just being nice to me because of Satoru?

He groaned, running a hand over his face. Why was this so hard? He could face curses, fight dangerous opponents, and handle life-or-death situations without batting an eye. But when it came to you, his brain turned into a tangled mess of uncertainty.

His internal crisis was interrupted by a loud knock on his door.

“Fuuuuuuushiiiiiiiguuuuuuuuroooooo! You in there?” Yuji’s voice rang out cheerfully. Before Megumi could even respond, the door swung open, and Yuji and Nobara barged in, grinning like they had just walked in on something juicy.

“Wha—what are you two doing here?” Megumi stammered, quickly locking his phone and shoving it into his pocket, hoping they hadn’t seen anything.

“Whatcha hiding?” Nobara asked immediately, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. She crossed her arms and gave him a look like she was about to crack a case wide open.

“Nothing.” Megumi said too quickly, which only made Yuji and Nobara more curious.

Yuji flopped onto the bed, making himself at home. “Come on, Fushiguro! You look like you were about to do something important.” He raised his eyebrows suggestively. “Something to do with a girl maybe?”

Megumi felt the tips of his ears go red. “What? No! It’s nothing.”

“Oh my god, he’s blushing!” Nobara exclaimed, smirking like a cat who’d caught a mouse. She nudged Yuji. “You know what that means.”

Yuji nodded sagely. “Yup. It’s definitely about a girl.”

Nobara laughs. “Oh, but not just any girl! You know….Gojo–sensei’s sister?”

“Wait!” Yuji’s eyes widened as Megumi looked away, the blush turning even more bright. “Fushiguro? Gojo–sensei’s sister!?”

Megumi groaned, feeling his face heat up even more. He could never hide anything from these two. It was like they had some kind of embarrassing moment radar. “No, it’s not! Leave it alone already!”

“Aha……” Nobara’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “It’s about Gojo Satoru’s sister, isn’t it? You’re so obvious about this!”

Megumi nearly choked on air. “Wha—no! I mean……” He trailed off, realizing that he was only digging himself deeper into a hole. “It’s not…It’s not what you think it is!”

“Oh my god, it is!” Nobara practically squealed. “You like her, don’t you?”

Yuji was grinning from ear to ear now, thoroughly enjoying Megumi’s suffering. “I knew it! You’re always all flustered around her.”

“I am not flustered. I am not….” Megumi muttered, looking away, which only made him look more flustered. “This is too much from you two!”

“Dude, you are so flustered, right now!” Yuji said, laughing. “It’s okay! You should just tell her how you feel.”

Megumi sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s not that easy.”

“Why not?” Nobara asked, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “You’re both into each other. I mean, she practically looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky. What’s the problem?”

Megumi blinked, caught off guard. “She… does?”

Nobara rolled her eyes. “Duh. How are you this dense? It’s so obvious! She’s always laughing at your jokes, even when they’re not funny.”

“Hey!” Megumi protested weakly.

“And she’s always finding excuses to be around you,” Yuji added. “Plus, the way she looks at you when she thinks no one’s watching? Come on, man, she’s into you.”

Megumi felt a flicker of hope, but his doubts crept back in. “But what if I’m wrong? What if I ruin things between us?”

Yuji and Nobara exchanged a look before turning back to him.

“Yo, Fushiguro!” Yuji said, clapping him on the shoulder. “You can’t spend your whole life worrying about what ifs. Just tell her. Worst case, things get a little awkward, but knowing her, she won’t let that happen.”

Nobara nodded. “And honestly, with how close you two already are, I’d bet money that she’s waiting for you to make the first move.”

Megumi let their words sink in, the knot of anxiety in his chest loosening just a little. Maybe they were right. Maybe he was overthinking everything. After all, you’d been dropping hints for a while now, hadn’t you? The lingering glances, the way you always seemed to gravitate toward him in a room full of people…

He pulled his phone back out, staring at the unsent message again.

Yuji peeked over his shoulder. “Ooh, you were gonna text her? What’re you waiting for? Send it!”

Nobara nodded eagerly. “Do it, do it, do it!”

With a deep breath, Megumi finally pressed send.

“Hey. Are you free tomorrow? Let’s talk.”

He tossed his phone onto the bed and slumped back against the wall, exhaling like he’d just run a marathon.

Nobara grinned triumphantly. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”

“Yeah.” Megumi muttered, though his heart was still racing. Now all he had to do was wait for your reply.

Yuji and Nobara, clearly pleased with themselves, exchanged a high-five. “Mission accomplished!” Yuji declared, grinning.

Megumi rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. Maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

The moment Megumi pressed send, his stomach dropped. What had he just done? Now there was no going back. He couldn’t unsend the message, couldn’t take back the quiet confession it represented. All he could do was wait for your response.

Yuji and Nobara were still grinning like a pair of mischievous siblings who had just successfully pulled off a prank. Megumi, on the other hand, was wondering if he should just bury himself in his bed and never come out.

“So….....” Yuji leaned in, his eyes wide with excitement. “What now? You think she’s gonna reply right away? Maybe she’s been waiting for this all along!”

Nobara snickered. “I bet she’s freaking out right now, staring at her phone like, ‘Oh my god, THE Fushiguro Megumi finally texted me to talk. What do I do?!’” She mimicked a dramatic swoon, nearly falling off the chair, which only made Yuji burst out laughing.

“Would you two stop?” Megumi groaned, pulling a pillow over his face in an attempt to block out their teasing. His ears were still burning, and the last thing he needed was them making it worse.

“Come on, man! This is exciting!” Yuji said, playfully tugging the pillow away. “You’ve probably  been into her for ages! Didn’t you guys meet as kids? And now you’re finally doing something about it! You should be happy!”

Megumi peeked out from behind the pillow, his expression somewhere between annoyance and anxiety. “Yeah, or I could be about to make the most embarrassing mistake of my life.”

Nobara rolled her eyes. “Ugh, seriously? You’re not gonna make a mistake, Megumi. Trust me. That girl is totally into you.”

“Yeah. Pretty obvious to us.” Yuji added, “if you could see how she looks at you, you wouldn’t be worrying about this.”

Megumi hesitated, feeling a small flicker of hope again. Could it really be true? Did you look at him the same way he looked at you? He was usually pretty good at reading people, but when it came to you, his emotions seemed to get in the way, clouding his judgment.

His phone buzzed, and all three of them froze.

Yuji’s eyes widened. “That’s her, isn’t it?!”

Nobara practically lunged for the phone. “Open it, open it, open it!”

Megumi’s heart skipped a beat as he grabbed the phone, hands suddenly shaky. He unlocked it, and there it was—your reply.

Hey, yeah, I’m free tomorrow. What’s up?

It was simple, nothing out of the ordinary, but to Megumi, it felt like the weight of the world had just lifted off his shoulders. You didn’t sound nervous or weirded out. You just… replied. As if this was the most normal thing in the world.

He exhaled, not realizing he had been holding his breath.

“Well? What’d she say?” Nobara leaned in, practically on the edge of her seat.

“She said she’s free.” Megumi muttered, trying to sound casual, but the small smile tugging at his lips gave him away.

“Oh, look at him!” Yuji teased, nudging Megumi with his elbow. “He’s smiling! Megumi, man, you’re whipped.”

Megumi shot him a look. “I’m not whipped.”

“Yeah, you are.” Nobara said with a smirk. “And honestly? It’s kinda cute. I never thought I’d see the day when you, of all people, would get all flustered over a girl.”

Megumi rubbed his temples, feeling the beginnings of a headache. “Can you two go now?”

“Fine, fine.” Nobara stood up, stretching her arms above her head. “But remember, if you mess this up, we’re totally going to say, ‘I told you so.’”

Yuji chuckled, giving Megumi a thumbs-up as they headed for the door. “Good luck, lover boy.”

“Don’t call me that.” Megumi grumbled, but there was no real bite to his words. He was too relieved, too nervous, and, if he was honest with himself, a little excited.

As the door closed behind them, Megumi sat back down on the bed, staring at your message. His heart was still racing, but this time, it wasn’t just from nerves. There was something else—hope. Maybe, just maybe, this would turn out okay.

He typed out a quick response.

Cool. Let’s meet after training? I want to talk.

And with that, he tossed the phone onto the bed again, burying his face in his hands.

What am I even going to say? He had no idea, but tomorrow was coming whether he was ready or not.

Little did he know, you were sitting in your room, staring at your own phone, your heart racing just as fast.

AND SO IT HAPPENED. It was a crisp, sunny afternoon when you found yourself standing under the canopy of sakura trees, the pale pink petals drifting lazily to the ground. Everything about the moment was making you feel queasy, like your stomach was doing flips. Why was this making you feel so sick? Why was your heart pounding like this? You could still feel the heat from your nervous sweat, which only made it worse. How is feeling so much love making you feel like you were going to die? You hated this. You really hated this. 

Your elder brother, Satoru, had this knack for making every situation simultaneously better and worse. Walking beside you, he was grinning like he knew something you didn’t, that classic, cocky smirk plastered across his face.

“Good luck, little sis!” he teased, ruffling your hair like you were a kid. “I’m sure Megumi’s gonna love whatever awkward thing you’re about to say.”

You shot him a glare, your nerves bubbling up with his every word. “You’re not helping.”

“Who said I was trying to help?” He winked, clearly enjoying your suffering. You glared at him. “I’m just here for moral support... and to watch you squirm.”

“Thanks.” you muttered, the sarcasm dripping from your voice.

Satoru laughed, clapping you on the back. “Come on, it’s Megumi. He’s practically family. What’s the worst that could happen? He rejects you? Nah, you’ll be fine.”

you wished your brother didn’t have Infinity, just so you could land a good punch on him. Now, standing there, nerves making you feel like backing out entirely, you glanced at him one more time.

To your surprise, his teasing smirk faded, replaced with concern. "Hey, hey, don’t cry!" He waved his hands in front of you frantically. "I was joking! I didn’t mean to make you upset."

"It wasn’t funny!" you snapped, blinking rapidly as the threat of tears welled up. Why did he always have to push your buttons?

Satoru looked genuinely worried for a second, which was rare. "Okay, okay, listen..." His tone softened, a little less of that cocky edge. "If Megumi doesn’t like you back, that’s okay. There’s plenty of people who will love you better, alright? Genuinely."

You sniffed, still feeling that tight knot of anxiety in your chest. "Yeah, right."

"I mean it," he insisted, stepping closer and placing a hand on your shoulder. “Your good ol' big brother is one of them, okay? You’ll always be loved, doll. You’ve got me, forever. No one’s ever gonna change that.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes but feeling a bit better, even if his logic was as goofy as always. "Still doesn’t make this any less terrifying, you know."

Satoru chuckled, ruffling your hair again. "Well, if all else fails, you can come hide behind me. Infinity’s good for that too, you know!"

By the time he finally left you alone, after throwing in one last, “Don’t mess it up, though!” you were already sweating. Actually sweating. Harder than ever before.

"Great. Just great." you grumbled to yourself, imagining all the possible ways this could go wrong. “Love sucks! This sucks!”

But sooner or later, you knew you would have to face it. And so you waited for Megumi. You waited patiently as you created stupid little scenarios in your head — things that shouldn’t even be. 

And after about fifteen minutes, here you were, facing Fushiguro Megumi, your heart pounding so loudly you were certain he could hear it. He stood a few feet away, hands buried deep in his pockets, staring intently at the ground as though it held the answers to life’s greatest mysteries.

Is he nervous too? you wondered. Somehow, that thought gave you the slightest sense of relief, but only for a fleeting moment. The truth was, you hadn’t been able to focus on anything since this morning, and now that you were actually standing in front of him, the anxiety was threatening to spill over.

Megumi’s hair, slightly ruffled by the breeze, caught your attention. His gaze remained fixed downward, his usual calm, almost brooding expression in place, but something about the way his shoulders were tense told you he wasn’t as composed as he seemed.

"I…" You started, your voice catching in your throat. Great, now you are losing your nerve.

Megumi’s eyes flickered toward you, his expression unreadable but curious. He waited, his silence urging you to continue, even though the words seemed to have tangled themselves up inside your head.

You tried again, taking a small breath, "I don’t really know how to say this without sounding like an idiot."

He shifted slightly, his eyes finally lifting to meet yours. “You’re not an idiot.” he said softly, though the hint of amusement in his voice wasn’t lost on you. “You aren’t one. Never…never have been.”

He looked… nervous? Which made you feel a little better, since you were pretty sure you’d forgotten how to breathe about five minutes ago.

Alright, you thought, trying to psych yourself up. You’re just going to confess. It’s simple. People do it all the time! You can do this. It’s Megumi—your Megumi.

Except now that you were actually standing in front of him, your brain decided to throw you a curveball. What if… what if he doesn’t like tall, petite girls?

You winced at the thought. Megumi was tall and handsome, and here you were, small, like a walking marshmallow. What if he preferred someone else, someone who needs his help? Does he like girls who seem to be more dependent on him? What if he liked girls with long, model-like legs? Wait, I don’t have those sort of legs! I have an athlete’s legs, but thinner! Oh my god…I, am I his type? Or worse, what if you were just a friend to him?

Before you knew it, words were tumbling out of your mouth.

“Um… Megumi?” you started, your voice way too high-pitched to sound cool. “There’s something I need to say.”

Megumi glanced up at you, his eyes narrowing slightly in that focused way he had. Your face felt like it was on fire. “Yeah?” he said, his tone casual but with a hint of curiosity.

You hesitated, suddenly regretting every decision you’d made that day. But you couldn’t back out now. You were already knee-deep in awkwardness.

“I know I’m, like… not like all the other girls or anything. Not to mention, I'm loud and awkward and just....” You winced as you said it. You feel your cheeks getting redder by the second. “And maybe… maybe you like taller girls or maybe more chic girls? Like, you know, girls with long model legs who look good in anything. Or at least girls who don’t have to deal with….you know, I….I don’t know. But I just….”

Megumi blinked at you, his eyes widening slightly as the words sunk in. For a moment, you thought you’d really messed up—like he might just walk away or start laughing. But then, something unexpected happened.

His face turned an alarming shade of red, and he blurted, “W-What? No! That’s not— I don’t care about any of that!” His voice cracked slightly, and you could tell he was flustered. Megumi. Flustered. Your heart did a weird little flip at that.

“I like you… exactly how you are. I don’t care if you have…if you have athlete legs and not model legs.” he said, quieter this time, as if saying it any louder would somehow make it harder for him. His eyes darted to the side, but you could see the sincerity there. “I… don’t care if you’re short or tall or… whatever.” His blush deepened as he added, “You’re… perfect.”

It took a second for your brain to catch up to what he was saying. Wait—he thought you were perfect? Did you… did you hear that right?

You opened your mouth, but all you managed was a strangled, “Oh.” Which was, you know, super eloquent. Good job, me.

Megumi shifted on his feet, still avoiding your gaze. “I thought…” he started, his voice so low you almost didn’t catch it, “that you didn’t like me because I’m… well, you know.” He made a vague gesture with his hand.

You stared at him, confused. “Because you’re… what?”

His expression was a mixture of embarrassment and frustration, like he really didn’t want to explain, but felt like he had to. “Because I’m… brooding. I’m not…I know I’m not the most fun of people to be around. And I just….I know it’s also hard to talk to me. And I'm way too quiet, I don't talk for hours sometimes.” he muttered. He cleared his throat and added. “I’m not exactly the most… open or easygoing person. I figured you’d probably want someone who’s more… fun.”

You blinked. “Fun? Megumi, you think I don’t like you because you’re… broody?”

He shrugged, still looking like he wanted to disappear into the nearest bush. “I mean… yeah.”

You couldn’t help it—you burst out laughing. Megumi’s eyes snapped back to you, looking completely baffled, as if he hadn’t expected that reaction at all.

“No way!” you said, still giggling as you wiped a tear from your eye. “That’s one of the things I like about you!”

His eyebrows furrowed. “Wait… what?”

“You’re serious and quiet!” you explained, your heart softening as you looked at him. “But you’re also kind. And you care so much about everyone, even if you don’t show it the way other people do. I think it’s…” you swallowed, suddenly shy again, “...really cute, actually.”

Megumi’s expression softened in a way that made your chest ache. He looked like he didn’t quite believe what he was hearing but was too relieved to question it. "Oh."

"Yeah...."

“So… you like me?” he asked, his voice a little hesitant, like he was afraid the answer might change if he said it out loud.

You nodded, feeling your cheeks heat up again. “Yeah… I do.”

There was a beat of silence where neither of you moved, both too flustered to figure out what came next. The sakura petals continued to fall around you, and for a moment, it felt like you were in a scene straight out of a cheesy romance.

“And you… like me?” you ventured, your heart thumping hard.

Megumi looked away, rubbing the back of his neck, but you could see the tiniest smile playing on his lips. “Yeah.” he muttered. “A lot.”

You stood there for a while, both of you blushing like tomatoes, staring at anything but each other. But somehow, despite the awkwardness, it felt perfect—like you’d finally figured out what had been right in front of you all along.

“Maybe we should, um… go get something to eat?” you suggested, trying to break the tension before you spontaneously combusted from embarrassment.

“Yeah.” Megumi agreed, a little too quickly. “Food. Good idea.”

You started walking, side by side, still too nervous to hold hands or do anything couple-like, but grinning like idiots who’d finally realized how much you liked each other. You'll be okay, together.

epilogue

The café near Jujutsu High was cozy, with soft lighting and the faint hum of conversations from other patrons filling the space. Megumi and I sat across from each other, still awkward but smiling. The post-confession giddiness hadn’t worn off, and every now and then, our eyes would meet, followed by a quick blush and looking away.

I nervously poked at my dessert with my fork, stealing glances at Megumi, who was doing a pretty good job pretending to focus on his coffee. I should say something, I thought, but before I could open my mouth, a loud, familiar voice shattered the peaceful atmosphere.

"Well, well, well! What do we have here? My adorable little sister and Fushiguro Megumi! On a date! How cute!"

I whipped my head around, and there he was—Gojo Satoru, in all his obnoxiously tall, grinning glory, standing at the entrance of the café like he owned the place. His trademark sunglasses were perched on his nose, and he had his phone in hand, ready for whatever chaos he was about to unleash.

Megumi groaned and slouched down in his seat, his face flushing a deep shade of red. "Why are you here?"

"Oh, just taking a casual stroll around campus when I happened to spot you two. And, being the fantastic older brother I am, I couldn’t resist stopping by to see what’s going on."

I sighed, knowing full well this was about to get much worse. "Satoru-nii…please don’t."

But Gojo Satoru was already snapping pictures of us with his phone, zooming in obnoxiously on both of our embarrassed faces. “Oh, these are perfect. You both look so adorable! I can’t wait to send these to Yuji, Nobara, and the rest of the gang.”

Megumi’s hand shot up in protest. “Stop—”

Too late. Gojo Satoru’s fingers flew over his phone screen as he quickly shared the photos. I could already imagine the messages popping up in the group chat: Yuji losing his mind with excitement, Nobara teasing Megumi, and the second and third years chiming in with their own commentary.

“Satoru-nii!” I whisper-shouted, trying to keep my voice low enough not to draw the attention of the other café-goers. “You promised no embarrassing photos!”

Gojo just grinned, looking far too pleased with himself. “Hey, you didn’t say anything about dates. Besides, this is for posterity. Your first date with the brooding Megumi! Awww, it’s like watching a baby deer trying to walk for the first time. My future brother in law and my sister’s first date! Oh this will be cute in the wedding powerpoint!”

Megumi looked like he wanted to crawl under the table, and honestly, I wasn’t too far behind. I glanced at him, feeling bad for dragging him into this chaos. “Gojo–sensei, we aren’t….That’s not—”

“Say cheese!”

But then, something unexpected happened. Maybe it was Gojo’s teasing, or maybe it was just the ridiculousness of the whole situation, but I felt a sudden surge of boldness. I scooted my chair a little closer to Megumi, leaned into him slightly, and—just to spite Satoru—rested my head on his shoulder.

Megumi stiffened at first, his body going rigid in surprise, but after a second, I felt him relax. He glanced down at me, and despite his still-flushed cheeks, there was a soft smile tugging at his lips. He didn’t say anything, but the way he subtly leaned into me in return spoke volumes.

Gojo, of course, gasped dramatically. “Ohhhh! Look at you two! All cozy now! This is too precious, I’m dying.”

“You’re gonna be dying for real if you don’t stop.” Megumi muttered, though he didn’t sound as angry as he usually did. He seemed…happy, even if he wouldn’t admit it. And honestly, that made me smile too.

Gojo, ever the drama queen, pretended to clutch his heart. “My little Megumi, all grown up and in love! My precious little sister, grown and down bad! This is truly a day to remember.” He took another picture, but at this point, I didn’t care. Neither did Megumi.

After what felt like an eternity of Gojo’s teasing, he finally waved us off with a laugh. “Alright, alright, I’ll leave you lovebirds to it. But don’t think I’m letting this go anytime soon! I expect wedding invites, you hear me?”

He sauntered out of the café, phone still in hand, leaving us in peace once again.

I let out a long sigh of relief, finally able to relax. “I’m sorry about him. He’s… well, he’s Satoru.”

Megumi shook his head, still leaning into me a little. “It’s fine. I’m used to it by now.”

We sat there quietly for a moment, neither of us moving. Despite the embarrassment, I felt a sense of warmth spreading through my chest. Leaning into Megumi, feeling the weight of his shoulder against mine, it was nice. Comforting.

I looked up at him and saw that soft smile again. He wasn’t embarrassed anymore—he looked…content. Maybe even a little happy.

“You know.......” I said, my voice quiet, smiling. “I think this might be the best date ever.”

Megumi glanced down at me, and for the first time that day, he chuckled softly. “Yeah… I think so too.”

[jetii]

Home is a Place on Coruscant

Pairing: Captain Rex x fem!Reader

Words: 10,705

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! angst, hurt/comfort, discussion of grief/death, some description of blood/injuries, mutual pining, friends to lovers, smut, dirty talk, a little brat taming, oral sex (m and f receiving), penetration, unprotected sex, light exhibitionism but not really

Summary: You've always been there for Rex, and when he shows up at your door in the middle of the night after a devastating mission, you do what you do best: take care of him.

A/N: The start of this fic has been sitting in my notes app since the TCW season finale many moons ago, and it wasn't until I read this drabble by @djarrex that I felt compelled to actually finish it. Rex is my fav and he deserves to be taken care of.

It's been about a decade since I've published a fic and about a decade since I've been active on tumblr, so I decided to start from scratch with this blog. Feedback is very much appreciated! I have a few more drafts in the works for Echo, Howzer, Kix, Tech, and Hunter that I'm planning to publish depending on the reception to this one.

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Rain on Coruscant was rare. But when it came, it came in torrents, and it came all at once.

In the early hours of morning, while the planet was still sleeping, the sky opened up and let loose a downpour that threatened to flood the lower levels. It was so heavy, it even drowned out the traffic noise coming from the speeders that were still flying over the city at the early hour. The noise was soothing, almost like a lullaby, and the sound of it woke you.

You were used to this sound. You were used to it, because you were used to not being able to sleep for more than an hour or two at a time. It was one of the many things about living in the Jewel of the Core Worlds that was taking you longer than you would have liked to adjust to.

The traffic noise, the bustle, the crowds—it all made your homeworld of Rion seem very far away. You could never hear anything over the speeder traffic here, and you likely would've gone mad long ago if not for the trickling of the fountain you kept in the main room. It had been your mother's. You were glad it had come with you when you moved.

The rain was heavy enough that you could hear it inside the apartment, a pleasant hum against the transparisteel. You sat in the window seat, arms folded around your knees, watching the rain fall. The view from your window was not the best in the Galactic City, but it was still quite good, and at night it was beautiful, all the lights of the skyscrapers blurring together in the rain.

The rain would be good for the plants.

You had a garden, a modest one. Some of the plants were native to your world. A few were native to Coruscant. Most were from other worlds. They were your pride and joy. Caring for them had given you something to do when you were adjusting to your new life here. You watered and pruned and tended to them all, and in the spring you were rewarded for your efforts.

Rex had been baffled, at first, by the sight of you out in the courtyard behind the complex, on your knees in the dirt, digging and weeding. It was a little piece of nature on a planet that didn't have much, and Rex was amazed that someone could take so much joy in something so… natural. It was nothing like what he'd been raised to appreciate, which was a good vantage point, a well-maintained blaster, and a plan.

When he'd told you as much, you had invited him to kneel down beside you, and, hesitantly, he'd done so. You handed him a spade and pointed to a patch of soil.

"See that little green leaf poking up?" you asked, and Rex followed your gaze. "See it?"

"I see it."

"Plant the spade right under it. When you pull it up, the root will come with it."

"Like this?" Rex had pulled the spade up, and a plant had come with it. He examined it, then tossed it aside, into the compost.

"That's perfect. That's just how you're supposed to do it. See, you're a natural."

Rex smiled, pleased with the praise. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. Now, let's get the rest of these weeds."

You'd worked in the garden until the sun was setting. Your hands had been dirty, and you had been smiling, and Rex had thought you were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

He would probably never tell you as much. He'd been trying to think of ways to tell you, and nothing seemed good enough. There was nothing good enough for you. So instead he told you about the missions he went on. And you listened. You always listened.

You wondered if Rex had heard the rain start. You wondered if it was keeping him awake, too. You wanted him to sleep. He was always so tired, and the last thing you wanted was for him to be exhausted when he came home from his mission.

If he came home.

It was an irrational thought. The missions were dangerous, yes, but the 501st had some of the best soldiers in the galaxy. And Rex was a good captain. A good leader.

But there was always the possibility. The risk.

You were intimately acquainted with the feeling of waiting for someone, and the way it tore you apart. It was a risk, being this close to Rex and the other clones of the 501st. It was a risk, feeling the way you did.

It was a risk, but you did anyway.

You look out at the rain, and the speeders that still flew through it. You wonder how they could fly through the storm, and not be afraid.

You're just about to turn away from the window when a noise behind you makes you jump. There, underneath the sound of the rain battering against the transparisteel, the sound of a knock at your door. You almost don’t think it is real, that it's simply a part of the soundscape of the rainy morning, but it comes again, three short raps.

You slide out of bed, fumbling to grab the clothes you tossed on the floor the night before. You don't bother to put on pants, but pull a long shirt over your head and tiptoe to the door, peering through the peephole.

The rain is heavier now, and the clouds are dark, almost black. The white shape in the hall is familiar, though, and it makes your heart race. You open the door, filling the small entryway with the scent of fresh rainwater and humidity.

"Rex," you say. "What are you doing here?”

He’s stoic, still and silent under your gaze, but you can see the tremble in his hands at his sides. The downpour seems to have washed the majority of dirt and debris from his armor, but bits of red still run through the cracks. An hour ago, he was likely covered with whatever the substance was — Umbaran dust or something more sinister — but the rain did well enough to wash it off.

He must’ve walked here, you realize, eyes widening. Your bottom lip pulls to worry between your teeth as you notice the new dents and marks on him. Carbon scoring on his shoulder plate, a tear in his kama, and what seems to be a blaster hole in his chest plate.

"I… I don’t know," he says after a moment. His voice is quiet, rough through the modulation of his helmet. It's as if the words are being dragged up from his lungs.

"I shouldn’t have. I… I should have called. I just… I had to see you.”

The words hang between you, suspended like the raindrops in the air. You feel tears prickle at the corner of your eyes. You can't believe he's here. He's here, and he's alive. You'd known he would be, but to see him with your own eyes, to have him in front of you, fills you with an immense sense of relief.

But something is clearly wrong. He's not saying what's bothering him, and you're almost too afraid to ask.

“Rex, what happened?”

You reach for him, only to have your hand meet nothing but humid air as he pulls back.

“It’s late, sorry for disturbing you—“

He turns to go, and this time you’re faster. Your hand encloses around his wrist and pulls him to a stop before he can take another step.

“Wait, Rex— please, just… stay. Just for a moment. Come in, you're getting soaked."

He lets out a slow breath and then, after a moment, he jerks a stiff nod. He allows you to drag him inside your apartment and, as the door slides shut behind him, he lifts his hands to the seal of his helmet. You watch him closely as he pulls it free and reveals the face beneath.

There are smudges of grime on his golden skin, and a deep furrow has formed between his eyebrows. He looks haunted, as if the shadows from the battlefield have followed him home. You want to smooth that line out with your thumb, but you aren’t sure he will let you.

You don't ask if you can touch him, but he notices the way your fingers twitch, and he knows you well enough to know that you're thinking about it.

"It's fine," he murmurs. He's never said no to you. "Go ahead."

He doesn't say please, and that hurts a little, but you're not surprised. Rex has been holding you at arm's length ever since he kissed you a few months back, and you know why. You just wish you knew how to help him.

So, you touch him. You brush your fingers across his cheek, wiping away the grime. You know that he doesn't need to be cleaned, but the motions are soothing. Your gentle touch is a balm, and you can feel his tension ease ever so slightly as you brush your fingers over his face.

"What happened?" you ask again, voice barely above a whisper.

"A lot." He lets out a slow breath and leans a little into your touch. He's exhausted, and he's relieved to see you, and the two warring emotions are pulling him in different directions. Rex opens his mouth to say more, but the words die on his tongue. He shakes his head, unable to continue, and closes his eyes.

"Come sit down."

You take him by the hand and lead him over to the couch. You sit first, and he follows suit, sitting a respectable distance from you. The distance doesn't seem right. When you'd met him, Rex had been so full of confidence, even when he'd been a little bit awkward, a little bit unsure. But the war had changed him. He was still the same man, still confident and brave and intelligent, but the weight of responsibility had settled on his shoulders, and the burden was crushing him.

You want to tell him it's going to be okay. You want to say it, but the words sound hollow in your mind.

You shift, moving closer, and Rex moves, too. The distance between you shrinks, and the tension eases. You don’t much care that he’s wearing armor, or that the rainwater is leaving damp spots on the upholstery.

Rex reaches for you, and his hands tremble. His gloves are damp, and his armor is cold, and the chill sends a shiver up your spine when he touches your knee. His eyes are distant, and he doesn't quite meet yours, and his expression is so, so sad.

“Hardcase is gone,” he closes his eyes to avoid seeing the look on your face. You can’t help but gasp at the admission, and a soft sob slips past your lips.

You had met Hardcase once, very briefly. He had been charming and charismatic and kind, if a little wild, and you had liked him immediately. He had flirted with you, and Rex had rolled his eyes and tried to hide a smile behind his cup. Hardcase had been fun, and loud, and a little bit reckless.

You had not known him as well as some of the others on his squad, but the pain in Rex's eyes, the grief in his voice, was enough to make it hurt.

"Oh, Rex, I'm so sorry," you murmur.

Rex nods, and his jaw tightens. You can tell that he's trying not to cry, and you can't imagine how hard it must be, to carry such a heavy weight all by himself.

When he speaks again, your blood runs cold.

“We were betrayed. One of our own— one of the Jedi, he—" his breath hitches. “Oz, Ringo — Dozens of them, my brothers. They’re all gone.

"Betrayed?"

You feel like the bottom has dropped out from beneath you.

You knew the war was dangerous, and that Rex's job was dangerous, but the idea that it could go wrong in such a fundamental way?

The Jedi had always seemed so wise, and so strong, and so just. It had always seemed like there was nothing they couldn't do. To know that one of them could betray their men — could betray the Republic, and the innocent people of the galaxy — was too terrible to contemplate.

Your hand finds his cheek again, and this time, his eyes find yours.

They're shining, but his tears don't fall. He's a soldier, and he knows better than to show weakness, even here. You wish he would let himself break. You wish he would let you hold him, and let his tears fall, and let you help him put the pieces back together.

"Rex," you murmur, "I'm so, so sorry."

He leans into your touch, closing his eyes, and your thumb wipes away some of the wetness that has gathered there.

He pulls back for a moment, and you think he’s pulling away completely before he leans closer. His arms slide around your waist, pulling you tight to him as he buries his head in your shoulder. You immediately return the embrace, one arm over his shoulders while your other hand lifts to hold the back of his head.

You’re not sure how long they stay like that or how many tears are shed between you. After some time, he begins to speak, and you listen while running a soothing hand over his head, trying desperately to keep from sobbing outright as he tells you about the traitorous Jedi Pong Krell.

It’s by far the greatest atrocity you’ve ever heard, and to know that Rex has to put his helmet back on and get back to work in a matter of days makes you sick to your stomach.

He doesn’t deserve this, you think as you pull him into another embrace. None of them do.

Something about the motion causes him to wince, and you immediately release him to grab hold of both his shoulders.

“Are you hurt?” You ask, eyebrows knitting together in concern.

His hesitation is answer enough, and you can feel a wave of anger rise in your chest. How could they let him come back, in the state that he's in? How could they ask this of him, after all he's already done?

“I’m fine, cyare. Armor took most of it.”

If it weren’t for the way he avoided your gaze, you’d believe him, but instead you just feel yourself grow more upset. “What did Kix say?”

“Uh, he didn’t—“

“Rex, you were shot, and you didn’t think to get medical attention?”

His expression darkens, and you can see him withdrawing again. His shoulders pull back, and he pulls his chin up, and the distance between you grows again.

“I didn’t think much of anything, to be honest.” He mutters. It breaks your heart, but it also throws more coals on the anger burning inside of you. Not anger at him, you know, even though you can’t help but let out a sigh of exasperation. “I’ll be alright.”

“Like hell you will be,” you bite out before taking a step back to help him stand. “C’mon. Let’s get you patched up.”

You're angry. You're so, so angry. How could he let himself get hurt? How could he come here and not tell you about it? How could they send him home, to you, after all he's been through, knowing that he was injured?

But there's nothing you can do about any of that now, and being angry at him isn't going to help.

“You don’t have to—“ He protests through words only, allowing you to drag him through the living room and into the refresher.

“Yes, I do.” You shut him down quickly as you flick the light on and turn to rummage underneath your sink.

He’s still standing in the center of the room when you stand back up to full height, looking uncomfortable at your fussing. It’s not the first time you’ve had to patch him up, but so far it’s just been cuts and bruises. It’s unknown territory for you both, and he holds himself like he’s waiting for you to give up and shoo him out.

Your hands find his shoulders, and you gently push him down to sit at the edge of your bathtub. He’s pliant in your hold, but he meets your eyes with the worried pinch between his brows he gets whenever he thinks he’s upset you.

“Rex, let me take care of you,” you plead softly, and the furrow deepens.

He can hear the way your voice breaks. He can see the worry in your eyes. You're scared, and he hates that he's done that to you.

He should have known better. He should have taken a moment, to collect himself, before coming to see you. He shouldn't have let his emotions overwhelm him. He should have kept it together.

You were always there for him, and you listened, and he could tell you anything. He should have told you that he was okay. That would have been the responsible thing to do.

But he didn't. He couldn't.

And now, he can't seem to do the one thing you ask him.

But, after a moment, Rex relaxes. He’s never been able to say no to you before, and it is no different now. His shoulders slump a little, and the furrow smoothes, and you can't help but think that his face looks much nicer like this. You wish he wouldn't be so hard on himself.

"Okay," he murmurs.

It's all the encouragement you need. You lift his hand, cradling it gently, and begin to remove his gloves and armor piece by piece. You set the pieces aside, careful to keep them in order, and you know he appreciates that. It's a little thing, but it helps. You make a note to clean it for him before he leaves, the sight of the red smeared across its surface churning your stomach.

It's quiet between the two of you. The only sounds in the room are the rain and the gentle clink of plastoid against the floor as the last piece is removed.

You're grateful for the silence, though. You're not sure what you would say, and you know that he needs this, needs the moment to breathe.

"Where does it hurt?" You ask.

He hesitates. There's a lot of pain, all over his body. But you can't do anything about the pain that aches in his bones, or the ache in his chest. He doesn't know how to tell you about that.

"Chest," he finally admits. "Took a hit in the vest. Knocked the wind outta me."

That was an understatement, but you didn't need to know that. He could barely breathe, when it had happened, but the rest of his brothers needed him, and he didn't have the time to worry about his own injuries.

"Can you get it off?" You ask.

He gives a slight nod and reaches his arm up to grab the neck of his blacks, slowly pulling it overhead to reveal the skin underneath. Your eyes widen slightly at the sight of him, and you feel a flush rising up your neck and onto your cheeks.

The only light in the room is the faint glow from the bulb above the mirror. It casts shadows across the planes of his muscles, and you can't help but drink in the sight of him. His chest is strong and broad, and a line of hair disappears beneath the waistband of his blacks.

There's a blaster mark on his sternum, just above his right pec, not far off from the scar in the center of his chest he’d earned on Salucemi. It’s weeping blood slowly, trickling down the curve of his muscle, and you can see the red, puffy skin surrounding the injury.

It isn't terrible. A few inches to the left, and it could have been fatal. A few inches to the right, and the armor could have deflected the bolt entirely.

Still, you know that he's in pain, and the knowledge is enough to make the tears prickle at the corners of your eyes again. You force yourself to swallow them back and, instead, you reach for a damp cloth to wipe the wound clean.

He hisses at the contact, and you can see him grit his teeth against the pain. His hand moves to grasp the edge of the tub, and you can't help but feel guilty. You want to tell him to relax, to try and ease his suffering, but you know he wouldn't listen. He never listens, not when it comes to his own wellbeing.

"Sorry," you murmur, but the cloth keeps moving. You have to clean the wound, so you can treat it properly.

“Where’d you learn this, anyways?"

"What, first aid?" You're surprised by the question.

"Mhm."

“My dad was a swoop racer, believe it or not,” you say softly. You don't talk about him very often. It still hurts. But this feels like the right moment.

Rex tilts his head curiously, watching your face. You can see his expression soften, and you know he can tell how difficult it is for you to speak about this.

"Really?"

You nod, your eyes focused on your work. “My mom was always patching him up, and I’d sit on the counter and help out where I could. When she passed, I took over.”

“Isn’t swoop racing illegal?”

“Hm, not on Rion, it’s not.” You finish cleaning the wound and move to grab the bacta bandages. “Maybe if it was, he wouldn't have gotten himself killed."

You're not sure what possessed you to be so blunt, but the words are out, and there's no taking them back. Rex blinks, shocked by your honesty. You feel embarrassment creeping up the back of your neck.

"Sorry," you murmur, keeping your eyes low. "That was… I shouldn't have said that."

Rex says nothing. He knows better than to try and coddle you, and besides, you've always been the one doing the comforting, not the other way around. But it doesn’t sit well with him to see you like this, and before he knows what he’s doing, he reaches out to you.

His hand lifts, and he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You can't help but lean into his touch. He's so warm, and his hand is calloused and gentle. He cups the back of your head, guiding you forward, and his lips press against your forehead.

You can feel the tears welling up in your eyes as the cloth slips from your fingers, and you cling to him. You feel terrible, for complaining about the loss of your father when Rex has lost so much.

"I’m sorry," he murmurs, and you're not sure if he means for asking or for Hardcase or for the war or for everything, and you can't bring yourself to ask.

“It’s alright,” you whisper back. He lets you pull away from him to busy yourself with sorting bacta patches, but you can feel his eyes on you.

"Is that why you came to Coruscant?” He asks softly, his tone careful and gentle.

Part of you wants to lie. You're tired, and you're hurting, and you're not sure you have the strength to have this conversation right now.

But the truth is already out, and if this will help him, you'll tell him anything.

You nod.

“He was actually really good at it,” you chuckle, and Rex can hear the bitterness in your voice. “But eventually he pissed off some powerful people who were placing the wrong bets. One day he left for a big race, and the next morning I found a box with his helmet at our doorstep. Or what was left of it.”

Rex sucks in a breath, and you can see his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. He knew about the helmet, he’s seen it on the shelf in your living room. But he hadn't known the full story.

You look back up at him. There are tears in your eyes, but they don't fall. You're smiling, and your eyes are sad, and his heart breaks.

“I tried to get the police involved, the racing league, anyone I could get to listen to me, but no one would investigate. I was so angry. Then I started getting threats. I couldn’t…” You shake your head, trying to rid the memories. "I couldn’t stay. So I moved here. And then the war started, and then I met you.”

It seems like a lifetime ago. The days before Rex felt like someone else's life, and you wonder how you ever managed without him. You'd been so lost, and so alone, and you'd felt like the universe was crashing down on you, and he'd pulled you out from underneath the rubble just by being there.

"I'm so sorry, cyar'ika," Rex murmurs.

You reach forward and gently lay a hand on his chest, pressing the bacta patch into place. His skin is soft beneath your touch, and you can't help but think, not for the first time, about how beautiful he is.

"I'm glad that you're here," you tell him softly. "That you made it back, I mean. I'm glad you came home."

Home. Rex swallows thickly.

He's never had a home before, not really. Home had been a word for people with families and futures. Home had been a word for normal, everyday people, not clones.

Home had always seemed like such a far away concept, something he'd never get to experience.

But, suddenly, the idea isn't quite so foreign. Home. With you.

"I'm glad I came back too," he finally murmurs, and his hand lifts to hold yours.

You're quiet, your eyes tracing the lines of his face, and his gaze finds yours.

There's something different between the two of you, something charged and heavy. You know you need to pull away. He needs to rest. You're both exhausted.

But you can't. You can't stop looking at him. He's beautiful, and he's kind, and he's the bravest person you've ever known. You've never loved anyone the way that you love him.

"Cyare," he whispers, and the word makes your heart stutter, even if you don’t know what it means.

He's not sure what comes over him. Maybe it's the way you're looking at him. Maybe it's the fact that, after the past couple of weeks, he thought he'd never see you again. Maybe it's that, for once, you're letting him take care of you. Maybe it's because you're so beautiful and you're so close and he loves you, he's so in love with you, and he doesn't know how much longer he can stand to go without saying something.

Whatever it is, he knows he needs to say something, and he knows he needs to do it now.

"I'm so glad I met you," he whispers, and it's the best he can do, but he hopes it's enough.

He reaches forward, and his hand finds the curve of your cheek, and the touch is enough to send a spark through your skin. You can feel the heat building inside of you, the desire pooling in your core, and the air in the room is electric.

"Me too," you manage.

His lips find yours.

You gasp against his mouth, and your arms wrap around his shoulders, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips. You're pulling each other closer, as close as you can possibly get, and it's not close enough.

Rex moans softly against your lips, and you can't help the way your hips twitch, or the way you whimper into his mouth. You're both desperate, and eager, and it's the sweetest relief.

He stands and turns, lifting you up and sitting you on the edge of the counter, and his body presses against yours. Your legs part, welcoming him, and his hips slot perfectly between them. His hands are on your thighs, gripping and pulling and massaging the flesh.

"Rex," you gasp, breaking away from his lips.

He takes the opportunity to press his lips against your throat, his tongue and teeth working the delicate skin. He sucks at your pulse point, and you whine. You know that there will be marks in the morning, but you can't bring yourself to care.

"Rex," you whine again, and you're not sure why, not exactly, because all you want is for him to keep doing what he's doing, to let him claim you and mark you and make you his. But you're overwhelmed, and you need to catch your breath, and his name is the only word your brain can think.

His fingers tighten, and his lips lift from your skin. He’s watching you with dark eyes and swollen lips, chest heaving.

"I need…" he trails off, and he doesn't finish the sentence, but you understand.

He's holding himself back. He doesn't want to push you, doesn't want to assume, but you can feel the need rolling off of him.

He's desperate.

You are too.

“Let me take care of you,” you whisper.

Rex sucks in a breath. There are a lot of things that he could say, but the only thing he can manage is your name, soft and needy, and you can hear the way his voice breaks.

The sound makes you ache.

Your hand finds his jaw, and your thumb runs along his bottom lip. He's looking at you with the most adoring eyes, and your heart feels like it's about to burst.

"Please," he breathes.

It's all the encouragement you need. Your lips find his, and his hands find your hips. He lifts you off of the counter and into his arms, and your legs wrap tightly around his waist. His fingers dig into the backs of your thighs, grabbing and holding and massaging the flesh. You're not sure how the two of you make it into the bedroom. All you can think about is Rex's lips, his teeth and tongue and hands, and the way he's carrying you like you weigh nothing, his hardness digging into your hip.

It's a miracle he doesn’t trip over the pile of dirty laundry on the floor.

His knees hit the mattress, and he leans down to lay you gently on the bed, his eyes never leaving yours. There's a tenderness to his actions, a sweetness in the way he handles you, that makes you shiver. His thumbs trace the lines of your hipbones underneath your shirt, and he smiles at the sound of your breath catching in your throat.

"Are you sure?" He whispers, and the words are enough to make you ache.

His hands are so gentle, his face so earnest. He's always been so careful with you, and it makes you feel like the most important thing in the world.

"Yeah," you whisper, your hand coming up to rest against the side of his face.

Rex's smile is so beautiful, and it's so full of joy, and you can't help but return it. He turns his head and presses a kiss into the center of your palm.

His lips move, tracing the lines on your palm. His teeth nip gently at the tips of your fingers, and he watches as your breath catches.

He wants to take his time, to learn every inch of you, to map out the places that make you moan and the ones that make you scream, and the ones that make you laugh. He wants to kiss the scars and worship the stretchmarks and the freckles, and the dimples in your skin, and the wrinkles in the corners of your eyes, and the birthmark on your shoulder, and he wants to show you how beautiful you are, how perfect, how special, how loved.

He'll do it, eventually. But not tonight.

Tonight, he just needs you.

His fingers dip underneath the hem of your shirt, drawing it up slowly, and he can't help the groan that falls from his lips at the sight of you. You're suddenly, painfully aware of the fact that you'd never put on pants when you answered the door, let alone a bra, and you're almost embarrassed.

But the way Rex is looking at you after your shirt is tossed aside makes your stomach flutter, and the words die on your tongue.

"Mesh'la," he breathes, his eyes wide.

He can't seem to decide where to look, where to touch first, so you grab his hands and guide them. They slide across the planes of your stomach and over your ribs, and his fingers ghost the underside of your breasts, and your head falls back onto the pillows.

"Rex," you beg. "Please."

The sound of your plea is enough to spur him into action. His lips find the side of your neck, and his hand cups your breast, thumb finding your nipple and swiping over it.

You gasp, your back arching and hips bucking into his, and Rex moans softly. His teeth graze the line of your pulse, and he moves lower, and he pulls a nipple into his mouth.

"Fuck," you whimper, your nails scratching at the back of his neck.

You can feel the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He likes having this effect on you.

The hand on your other breast is kneading the flesh, and his lips are sucking at your nipple, his tongue tracing patterns on the delicate skin. His fingers pinch and pull, and you can feel the heat building between your legs.

"So sensitive," he hums, and the vibrations from his words send a tingle down your spine.

"Only for you," you breathe.

The words make his hips stutter, and the hardness of his cock presses into the wetness of your core. You can feel the outline of him against you, the heat and the thickness, and your breath catches.

You roll your hips into his, and Rex releases a groan, his teeth sinking into the soft skin of your breast.

"Kriff," he hisses, and the sound sends a shock of pleasure through you. Suddenly, you remember your promise.

"Lay back," you whisper, and his head lifts.

"What?"

You push at his shoulders, mindful of his bandages as you urge him backwards, and Rex follows your command. You move quickly, kneeling between his legs and grabbing the waistband of his blacks. You can see the outline of his hardness straining against the fabric, and you can't help but lick your lips.

"Can I?"

Rex's chest is heaving, his eyes blown black, and you can tell he's trying to process your question.

"Cyar'ika," he breathes, and the endearment makes your heart flutter. "You don't have to."

"I know," you tell him, your hand moving slowly up and down his thigh. Your head tilts thoughtfully. "Can I be honest?"

"Always," he replies.

"I've wanted to for a while."

You can feel the blush creeping up the back of your neck, and your eyes dart away from his. You don't know why, it's not like you've been hiding your attraction, but something about telling him is making you nervous.

"You have?"

His voice is soft, and his hand finds the back of your head. His touch is so gentle, and the surprise and happiness in his tone makes you bold.

"Yeah," you murmur, looking back up at him.

He looks stunned, but there's a light in his eyes, a warmth that you can feel spreading inside you too. "Why didn't you say anything?"

You shrug. "I didn't want to push."

It's his turn to blush. It's cute, the way his cheeks flush, and his eyes dart away. He almost looks embarrassed.

"Since we're being honest…" He starts.

"What?"

"Me too."

Your heart stutters, and a wide grin stretches across your face. The happiness building inside your chest is competing with the desire that courses through you at the knowledge that he's thought about this, about you, and the idea is almost too much. You're sure you must look like a fool smiling this much, but you can't bring yourself to care.

"You've thought about it?" You tease.

"Yeah," he breathes. "All the time."

"Tell me."

He groans, his fingers tangling in your hair, and you can see the way his cock twitches at your words. "I… Kriff, I've imagined it so many times. How good you'd look on your knees, with my cock in your mouth, or bent over, with my hands on your hips, or straddling me, riding me."

"What else?"

You've moved closer to him, and his fingers tighten in your hair, and you can feel the wetness between your thighs. You've never felt so desperate, so needy, and all you want is him, any part of him.

"I think about it all the time. What it would be like to have you in the barracks, in the 'fresher, in the hangar. You on your knees in my office. Fuck, everywhere. It's all I can think about sometimes."

You can feel the wetness growing between your thighs, and you can't stop the whine that falls from your lips. It's almost too much, hearing the things he's imagined, the ways he's wanted you, the times and places, and the need and desperation behind his words.

"Then will you let me?" You ask, and you hope the answer is yes, because you can't imagine stopping.

"Please," he breathes.

"What was that?"

Rex's grip on your hair tightens, his gaze locked on yours as he speaks again, his voice is low.

"Please, cyare."

That's all the encouragement you need. Your eyes don't leave his as your hands pull at the fabric, slowly revealing his length. He's bigger than you dared to imagine, and thicker, and the sight of him is enough to make your mouth water.

His eyes are wide, his pupils blown, and his mouth is hanging open slightly. The blush on his cheeks is spreading down his chest, and the muscles in his arms are tensed.

"So perfect," you hum, and you're not sure if you're talking to him or his cock.

You wrap your hand around him, and Rex's hips stutter. Your thumb swipes over the head, spreading the bead of precum, and his eyes fall shut.

"So sensitive," you tease.

"Cyare," he warns. There's an edge to his voice, and it makes you grin.

Your head dips down, and you press a kiss to the underside of his cock, and his hips jerk. You keep pressing kisses along his length, your fingers wrapping around the base. Rex is struggling to breathe. He's not even inside of you yet, and it already feels better than anything he's ever experienced before.

He opens his eyes to look down at you, and the sight of you on your knees in front of him is almost too much. He's dreamed about this moment, and fantasized, and he never, not in his wildest dreams, imagined that it would feel like this.

Your lips wrap around him, and Rex can't stop the way his hips thrust up. His cock brushes the back of your throat, and you gag, pulling back slightly with tears in your eyes.

"Sorry," he gasps, his cheeks flushing.

You shake your head as much as you can with his length in your mouth, and your eyes flash up to his.

You like this, he realizes with a start. You like being used, you like the feeling of him fucking into you, and the realization sends a shock of pleasure through him.

You bob your head slowly, and Rex watches, transfixed, as his cock disappears between your lips. Your tongue runs along the underside, and his eyes fall shut again.

"Maker," he moans.

Your hand is stroking what doesn't fit into your mouth, and your other is tracing the lines of his thighs, and his abs, and his V-lines. You can feel the muscles tensing and relaxing under your fingertips, and you can see the way his hips are straining, the effort he's making to keep still.

Your name falls from his lips like a prayer, and you hum softly in response. His fingers tighten in your hair, pulling gently, and his other hand comes to rest on the back of your head.

"Fuck, mesh'la," he moans, and the praise makes you preen.

You pull back, until only the head is between your lips, and swirl your tongue around him. He tastes sweet and salty and just the right amount of bitter, and you can't get enough.

"So good," he gasps. "So perfect, so beautiful."

He's babbling now, the words falling from his lips without him thinking about them, and you can't stop the grin. You'd always wondered if he was a talker.

"So perfect, cyar'ika, taking me so well." His voice is wrecked, and his breath is coming in ragged pants. "Feel so good. I could fuck your mouth all night."

His words make you shiver. He could. He could do anything he wanted with you, and you'd let him.

You move your head down, taking him as far as you can, and Rex's eyes open to watch you. You hold his gaze as his cock slides along the back of your tongue and hits the back of your throat, and you suppress the urge to gag.

"So pretty," he hums, his voice strained. "Such a good girl."

Your pussy throbs at the words, and the moan you release vibrates his length.

"That's it," he gasps.

You can feel the tears pooling at the corners of your eyes, but you keep moving, keep taking him, and his grip on your hair tightens.

"So good, mesh'la, so, so good."

He's repeating the words, and you're not sure if he knows he's saying them. Your jaw is starting to ache, your lips are sore, and there's drool dripping down your chin, but you can't stop the soft whimpers and moans.

The sounds are enough to drive him mad.

His hand moves to cup your cheek, and his thumb runs along your bottom lip, stretched around him. The gesture is so tender and loving, it's almost too much.

"Look at you," he breathes. "Kriff, I've wanted this for so long. So beautiful. So perfect. My perfect girl. You take me so well."

You hum again, and his head falls back, the movement pushing his cock deeper. You gag around him, and his hips stutter, a litany of Mando'a spilling from his lips. You're not sure what he's saying, but the words are making your cunt clench, the pleasure building inside of you overwhelming.

"I'm close, mesh'la," he gasps. "If you want to stop, you'd better— ah, kriff!"

You've pulled back, and the suction of your lips is incredible. Rex's hips are stuttering, his hands are tugging on your hair, and the sounds falling from his lips are enough to make your core throb.

"Mesh'la, please, I can't—"

His words die in his throat as you reach between his legs and roll his balls in your hand. The action sends him hurtling over the edge, and his hips thrust up one last time, pushing his cock down your throat as he comes.

Your throat works to swallow every drop. It's so much, more than you were expecting, and you struggle not to choke. His grip on your hair is borderline painful, but you don't mind. You can feel his whole body trembling, his breathing labored and his chest heaving.

You release him with a wet pop, and he shudders. You press one last kiss to the underside of his softening length, and he twitches, his body still sensitive.

"You're gonna kill me" he breathes.

"Hopefully not." You wipe your mouth, thumb catching a stray drop of cum and sucking it into your mouth, and you watch as his eyes darken.

He pulls you to him, and you climb back into his lap, his lips on yours. The kiss is slow and lazy, his hands running up and down your back, his body still shuddering from the force of his orgasm.

"Mesh'la," he sighs against your lips, his breath hot and heavy. "So beautiful."

His fingers trail down the side of your neck and between your breasts. They ghost the skin of your stomach and dip underneath the hem of your panties, and you can't help the whimper that escapes.

"Still want me?" You ask.

"Always."

His lips are on your neck, and his fingers find the wetness between your thighs, and you gasp. The noise that falls from his lips is filthy.

"Fuck, cyar'ika," he groans. "You're soaked."

"That's your fault," you manage.

His teeth graze your pulse, and his fingers brush against your clit, making your hips buck.

"Can't help it," you gasp.

You can't stop the cry of pleasure as his thumb presses down. His touch is gentle, almost hesitant, and you're not sure why. You've made it perfectly clear that you want this.

"Rex," you whimper. "Please."

He presses another kiss to your lips, and the hand not between your thighs wraps around your back, holding you steady. He teases your entrance, and your breath catches, and then his fingers are slipping inside.

"Ah, fuck," you hiss.

You're so wet, so slick, and his fingers slide in easily. Just two fingers already feel so thick, and you can feel your walls stretching around him. There's a dull ache, but it feels so good.

"Cyar'ika," he groans. "Fuck, so tight."

His fingers pump in and out slowly, and your head falls onto his shoulder.

"Faster," you gasp. "Please, Rex."

"Shh," he coos. "Patience, mesh'la."

"Please."

"Be a good girl and be patient for me."

You whine, the sound muffled by his shoulder. He's being cruel, teasing you like this. You've already had him once, and now he's drawing it out. "Rex, I need you."

He hums softly, pressing a kiss to your temple. His fingers are still pumping in and out, slowly, agonizingly, and you know he's doing it on purpose.

"I need you," you whimper.

"I'm here," he whispers.

"No, I— ah! I need you inside me."

You can feel his breath catch, and his fingers stutter, and then his lips are at your ear.

"How do you want me, mesh'la?"

"Like this," you breathe. "I want to ride you."

His breath hisses through his teeth, and his fingers speed up. The change in pace is enough to make your head spin, and the noises coming from your mouth are embarrassing. You sound desperate, and you are.

"Fuck, Rex."

"So good," he hums. "Such a good girl."

A third finger slides in beside the other two, and the stretch makes your back arch. You're not sure when he had the chance to slick his fingers with your wetness, but he must have. He's not hurting you, and the feeling is incredible.

"Rex, I'm gonna—"

"Not yet," he cuts you off.

"Please, I need to—"

"You'll wait," he growls, and the command is enough to make your toes curl.

"Please," you beg. "I'll be good, I promise, just—oh!"

Your plea is cut off by a sharp cry of pleasure, and your walls flutter around his fingers, your hips rocking back and forth.

"I said not yet."

"I'm sorry," you gasp, and the words come out strangled. "I couldn't help it, you feel so good."

He hums, his thumb finding your clit, and the stimulation is almost too much. His lips find yours, and his free hand holds you steady as his fingers move inside of you.

You writhe on top of him, your legs shaking, and you can feel the pleasure building in the pit of your stomach, and it's all too much.

"Please," you beg, and you're not even sure what you're asking for.

"What do you need?"

"Please," you gasp.

"Use your words, cyar'ika. What do you need?"

"I need— ah! I need you. I need more. Please."

He's torturing you, you realize. He's doing it on purpose, making you beg, punishing you for how you teased him earlier, and the thought of it makes your cunt throb.

"You've been so good for me, mesh'la. You think you've earned it?"

"Yes," you hiss. "I'll be good. Please, Rex, I'll be a good girl."

He can't say no, not when you're looking at him like that. Not when your lips are parted and your cheeks are flushed, and the look in your eyes is so desperate.

"Okay," he concedes.

You let out a sound of relief, and his fingers are slipping out of you. He brings his fingers to his lips and sucks them into his mouth, and the action is enough to make you groan. You rise off of him, legs trembling, and hurriedly push your panties down and toss them aside.

He looks up at you, and there's awe in his eyes, a reverence, as his hands settle on your hips to guide you back to him. Your hand wraps around his cock, lining him up, and the two of you gasp as his head breaches your entrance.

"Take your time," he whispers. “You don’t have to—fuck!”

You sink down, taking him fully in one smooth motion, and Rex can't stop the low, guttural moan that escapes.

"You said to take my time," you say, and there's a cheeky lilt to your voice. He opens his mouth to argue, but the words die in his throat. "So I took my time."

You can't stop the grin. The look on his face is almost too much. His cheeks are flushed, and his chest is heaving. His lips are swollen from the kisses, his eyes wide and his pupils blown. He looks good like this, you think, and you've never seen him so undone.

"Cyar'ika," he finally manages.

You hum, circling your hips, and his grip on you tightens. Your pace is slow, savoring this feeling unlike anything you've ever experienced. He's bigger than anything you've ever had inside of you before, filling you in ways you didn't even know were possible. You're still adjusting to him, and your movements are slow, but they're steady, and you can't help the soft whimpers and gasps.

Rex is struggling to breathe. Your heat is so warm and so wet, your walls are clenching around him, and the sight of you is almost too much. The way your head is tipped back, your eyes closed and your mouth open, the sounds you’re making, and the way his cock is disappearing inside of you over and over again, it's all so much. He can't believe this is happening.

He leans forward to press a kiss to your throat, his teeth grazing your pulse. You gasp before pushing on his shoulders, and his back hits the mattress. You lean over him, your hands reaching to grasp the headboard, and the new angle makes the both of you exhale. It also makes your breasts hang tantalizingly in his face.

Rex is not one to waste an opportunity.

He leans up and closes his lips around one of your nipples, and the sensation is enough to make your hips buck. Your pace speeds up, and his hands grip your hips tightly, helping to guide you.

"Oh, kriff," you gasp.

He releases your nipple with a pop and moves his attention to the other, and the sound you make is almost enough to make him come right then. He can’t help but shift his hips, moving them up and down in time with your thrusts, and you pull away from him to give him a look of warning.

"Stay still," you order.

"Or what?"

You raise an eyebrow, and Rex shivers. You're not sure what makes him react like that, but it sends a rush of heat straight to your core.

"I'll stop."

His jaw drops, and his eyes widen. "You wouldn't," he says.

"That’s an order, Captain," you say, and his cock twitches inside of you. You can't help the wicked smile. You’re learning a lot about him today.

"You're the worst."

"You love it," you retort.

His hands move to your waist, and he pulls you closer.

"I love you," he breathes.

You can feel yourself clench around him at his words, and he hisses through his teeth.

"Say it again."

"I love you."

Your lips meet his, and his tongue slides into your mouth as his hands roam your body. You can feel his heart beating wildly in his chest, his lips are warm, and his breath is hot, and his body is so close to yours, the feeling is overwhelming.

He's everything.

"I love you," he says again, his voice hoarse.

"I love you, Rex."

"I never thought I'd hear you say that."

"It's true," you gasp.

His hips stutter, and you pull away, giving him a look of warning, and his jaw clenches.

"Sorry, cyar'ika. I couldn't help it."

"I know."

"Let me make it up to you."

"Wh— ah!"

You cry out as his fingers find your clit, and your walls flutter. The movement sends pleasure shooting through you, and your legs shake, the pace of your hips unsteady.

"That's it," he coos. "Come for me."

"Not yet," you gasp. "Need you to— oh, fuck, Rex."

His hips snap up, meeting your thrusts, and the new pace is relentless. He's chasing his own release, and you're right there with him. You can't take it anymore.

"Please, please, I can't—"

"Go ahead," he urges.

You can't stop the cry that tumbles from your lips. You can feel the orgasm building, and your hips are bucking wildly.

"I can't—I can't," you sob.

"Come for me, cyar'ika. Come on my cock."

The words are enough to send you over the edge, and he swallows your cries of pleasure. You're trembling above him, your nails are digging into his skin, and the pressure of his fingers against your clit is enough to make your hips jerk.

"Kriff, I can feel you," he breathes. "Your little pussy is squeezing me so tightly."

"Please," you beg. You're not even sure what you're begging him for.

All you know is that he feels so good, and you're so sensitive, and the sensations are too much and not enough.

"That's it," he murmurs. "Good girl."

"I can't, I can't, I can't-"

"Shh, shh, it's okay."

He's so gentle even as he sets a brutal pace, his hips snapping up to meet yours. You can feel the head of his cock hitting the end of your channel, and his fingers are rubbing frantic circles around your clit.

The pressure is almost painful, but it feels so good.

"Oh, fuck, Rex," you cry out.

"Come again," he demands.

"I can't," you protest. "It's too much."

"You can," he counters. "Do it for me."

The words send a thrill through you, and you can feel the pleasure building. Your walls are fluttering around him, your hips are bucking, and you can't control the noises coming from your lips.

"That's it," he growls.

Your orgasm washes over you, and this time it's stronger, tears spilling over as his name falls from your lips over and over again. You can feel your release gushing out of you, coating his cock and the sheets below.

The sight is so filthy, but it only seems to spur him on. Rex grips your hips tight enough that you know you’ll bruise, and the thought sends another thrill through you. You want him to leave his mark. He fucks up into you with a force that has the headboard slamming against the wall, and his thrusts are losing their rhythm.

"I'm so close," he breathes.

You're barely coherent, but you can't help but latch on, his words sending another rush of heat through you. "You gonna come for me, Captain?"

He shudders, and his eyes flutter shut, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly. He can't find the words.

"You've been so good for me," you purr breathlessly. "Let go."

You can see the tension leaving his shoulders, his jaw slack. His breath is coming in shallow gasps, and his thrusts are unsteady. He's teetering on the edge, and all it takes is a few more words from you.

"Fill me up."

"Cyar'ika," he warns.

"Do it," you order.

"Fuck, cyar'ika," he breathes. "Oh, fuck, I'm coming, I'm—"

He curses, his head falling back against the pillow, and his cock pulses as he spills inside of you, his hands tight on your hips to hold you down. You can feel the warmth of his seed filling you, and the sensation is enough to make the corners of your vision darken.

"I can feel it," you murmur. "I can feel you, kriff, Rex."

He groans, his arms pulling you down, and you collapse against his chest. You're not sure how long you stay like that, just holding each other. You can't feel anything except him, his hands running up and down your spine, and his lips pressed to the top of your head.

“So,” you say after a while, and he can hear the smugness in your voice.

You tilt your head, and the look he gives you is withering.

"Don't start," he warns.

"Captain, huh? I didn't know that was your thing"

"That's not—"

"What? You don't want to talk about the fact that your cock gets hard when I call you Captain?"

On cue, the appendage in question twitches, and Rex closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It's not— ugh, kriff," he mutters.

You can't stop the laughter that bubbles up.

"You're cute when you're embarrassed," you coo.

"Don't patronize me," he says, but the words have no heat behind them.

"I'd never dream of it, sir."

You can see the blush rising in his cheeks, and his eyes darken.

"That's an order," he grumbles.

You lean up, brushing your lips against his, and the touch is soft and gentle. He melts into it, his hands resting on your waist.

"Yes, Captain," you say.

"I can't—kriff. You can't say things like that, mesh'la." His expression is pained, and the sound that escapes him is almost a whine.

"You're right," you agree. "I can do better."

He raises an eyebrow, and his jaw drops as your fingers wrap around his wrist. His eyes follow the motion as you pull his hand between your thighs. You let out a satisfied moan as his fingers dip between your folds, and he can't tear his gaze away from the sight of his seed dripping from your cunt when his softening cock slides out of you.

"You're a mess," he says reverently.

"I'm a mess because of you."

He hums, his fingers gathering some of his spend and sliding it back into you.

"Is this what you were imagining, Captain?"

He shudders at the title, and his hips cant, his cock stirring to life.

You can't help the grin. "It is, isn't it?"

"You're terrible," he growls.

"Oh, I'm not terrible. I'm the best you've ever had."

He lets out a breathless laugh. "You're the only one I've ever had," he admits.

You pull back, staring at him in surprise, and the look on his face is unreadable.

"Are you— are you serious?"

"Of course I'm serious," he says, brow raised.

"But--"

"Cyare, I've only ever wanted you." His words are simple, and they're said with a conviction that steals the breath from your lungs.

"Oh."

You're speechless. You're not sure what you'd imagined the past few months. You're not even sure if you'd ever given much thought to it, but the idea that you're the only person who has ever made him feel like this is dizzying.

"I've loved you for a very long time," he confesses, and the words make your heart ache. "I never thought—kriff, I never thought you'd feel the same."

"I love you," you say firmly. "So much."

He grins, and the smile is so wide that his cheeks are dimpling. You can't resist. You lean down to kiss him again, and the way he holds you, like you're the most precious thing in the world, makes the feeling in your chest bloom.

"I'll say it every day for the rest of our lives, if that's what you need," you say.

"Don't make promises you can't keep," he murmurs.

"I wouldn't," you promise.

He stares at you for a moment, his gaze intense, and his grip tightens. You can see him steeling himself, and the words he speaks make you shiver.

"Good, because I intend to marry you someday."

"Someday," you echo. You're not sure if you believe him, if that's even possible for you, but you believe that he believes it.

"When the war is over," he confirms. "When the fighting is done, and we've finally got a chance at peace, I'll give you the galaxy, cyare. And a family, if you want one."

"Rex, I—" You swallow thickly, and he can see the emotions flickering across your face. His fingers are drawing shapes on your hip, and his eyes are locked with yours.

"I'm not asking for an answer now," he says gently. "I just— I want you to know how serious I am."

You nod, and the silence that stretches between you is heavy.

"You really mean it," you finally say.

"Of course I do."

"What happens if—"

"There is no 'if.'" His tone leaves no room for argument, and he shifts, sitting up. The new position brings you into his lap, and your knees are straddling his waist. He rests his forehead against yours, and his breath fans across your face.

"Whatever happens, we'll face it together."

"Together," you murmur.

"I'm with you. Always."

You close the distance, kissing him softly. It's nice, holding him like this. The feeling of his arms around you is enough to drive the fears from your mind, pushing them to the furthest corners. You can feel yourself relaxing, the tension leaving your shoulders, and his hands roam your body, exploring every inch.

"You know," you begin, your voice quiet, and your lips brush against his with every word. "I'm still waiting for a tour of the barracks, Captain. Oh, the hangar too."

His breath hitches, and you can feel him starting to harden again under you.

"Cyare," he breathes.

"I'd love to see your office," you continue, and his eyes darken. "You can give me a private tour, just the two of us. I'll wear a skirt, and you can bend me over your desk."

His cock is fully erect now, and he can't stop the groan.

"And the showers," you purr, gently rotating your hips. "I bet they're big. Just big enough for the two of us. We could get the water nice and hot, and I could drop to my knees..."

"Kriff," he swears.

"Or…"

He's breathing heavily, his fingers digging into your skin.

"We could do that now," you offer.

"Cyare." His tone is pleading, and the sound sends a thrill through you. You can feel the ache building between your legs, and your thighs are sticky.

"I'm already dripping wet," you whisper.

"That's it."

He moves so fast that it makes you yelp, and the next thing you know, he's on his feet, carrying you, and your legs are wrapped around his waist. He walks swiftly towards the 'fresher, and the feeling of him sliding against your core makes you shudder.

"You're going to be the death of me, cyare," he murmurs.

"Maybe," you concede. "But I think we can agree that it'll be a great way to go."

The door slides shut behind him, and the sound of his laughter is enough to make you melt.

"A great way to go," he echoes.

You know the path ahead of you is treacherous. You know there will be more battles, and more losses, and more nights where you're unable to sleep. You know there will be pain, and fear, and sorrow.

But there will be hope too, and joy, and happiness. A home, and a family, and a future.

It will be worth it.

[yummymitzy]

Dangerous, right?

Summary: Being consultants in the LAPD was practically a routine for you and your brother, Lucifer. But you soon agreed that it was time for a change of scenery, in New York.

WC: 6,102

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Fallen angel! reader

A/N- This fic took wayy longer cause I kept forgetting it was in my drafts😬

————♡ ————

Being fallen angels and living luxuriously in Los Angeles really came as a shock to you, especially when you and your brother were working for the LAPD as consultants. You two quickly got settled with your routines, and it probably had changed you both for the better.

You take that back, it really did change you both, not always for the better but improved your attitudes. You both stopped using harsh violence when it came to bad people, instead you both resorted to intimidating them. 

Now anyone could say that it was because you both sort of were cops and that you had to stop using violence, but you honestly didn’t care. They weren’t there to see you both improve so why feel the need to comment on it?

————♡ ————

You honestly forgot when exactly you and Lucifer had gotten yourself settled in with this luxurious life but neither of you were complaining. You really weren’t, but recently there has been this nagging thought in the back of your mind.

You felt like you could use a change of scenery, take a trip somewhere, probably treat it as a vacation. But you always brushed the idea off, not wanting to immerse yourself at the thought of it. 

Also because you didn’t want to mention it to Lucifer, not that you would have cared but his moods are incredibly sharp. Either he could be so overjoyed at the idea, or he’d think about it and come back to you days later.

But that changes today, well at least you hope. You absolutely did not want to miss out on a chance for a change of scenery, practically ready to squabble with your dear brother if he had rejected.

Waltzing out of your dramatically large bedroom, you honestly wondered why the room was so unnecessarily large when you were the only person living in it. You walked down the hallway down to the living room, assuming he’ll be on the couch drinking away.

Like you assumed, he was sat on the couch, leaning back into the cousins as he nursed a glass of whiskey as he stared at whatever was playing on the TV. 

A mischievous smile finds its way in your faces as you quieten your steps, before you walk up behind the couch. Snatching his glass of whiskey as you took a sip of it, the action making Lucifer snap his head towards you.

“The hell was that for?” He raised an eyebrow, the hand originally holding the glass was still raised before he dropped it after realizing. 

“Just wanted a sip. You could always refill it, the bottle is just right there, Lucifer.” You smirked before handing him back the glass of whiskey, your face dramatically contorting into an offensive look as he snatches it back. 

“No, that wasn’t what I was here for though, as much fun as it is bothering you, I have a suggestion.” You laugh as you rounded the couch and plopping yourself down right next to him as you smile at him. 

“And what may that be?” He turns his head to you as his eyebrows pinch together lightly in confusion. 

“What do you think about a little trip to New york?” You propose, your eyes examining his features, attempting to determine what he was thinking. 

Lucifer laughs, a full on belly laugh. As you furrow your eyebrows in confusion as your shoulder slumps slightly, had he thought your idea was stupid?

“What are you cackling for?” 

“Well, I just never thought you’d take this long to go somewhere outside LA.”

Your face feigns an overly dramatic look as you placed your hand above your heart. “I’m wounded, that really hurt me, Luci.” Your face shifting into a slight pout.

“Oh, you’ll be fine. But what about our jobs?” He rolls his eyes before they snap back to you while he took a sip of his whiskey that he had been swirling.

“We’ll resign, plus I think I know somebody who can set us up. The new job won’t be as different” You shrug as you leaned back further into the couch. You and Lucifer had went through hard work to even place yourselves a spot as consultants, especially with your past antics just made it more difficult.

But you had a feeling that with this new job you both will be cashing up, they wont judge based on either of your past mistakes. Reaching back into the back pocket of your jeans, you pull out your phone.

Lucifer noticed you were dialing up a number and he rose an eyebrow at you. You put a finger up to your lips as if to shush him, which it was. On the third ring, you were starting to get impatient but thankfully your contact finally picked up the phone.

“Y/n, to what do I owe the pleasure for your call? Because I do remember that you ghosted me last time.” 

You wince, completely slipped your mind that you had did that. But who was to judge you, he gave you an ultimatum and both choices weren’t good ones.

“I did that? Slipped my mind, anyways Nicky. I originally wanted to call you regarding business.”

You set the phone on speaker but sending a look towards Lucifer to keep quiet, to which he nods.

“Business eh? Fine. Just don’t run away this time.” You roll your eyes at his words, was he ever going to let that go? It was like he was practically holding a grudge against you for following your heart.

“Okay, anyways. Me and my brother were considering transferring to New York, and I was wondering if you still reserved that spot for me.”

There was a moment of silence before you heard the shuffling of, papers?

“If you both get here quick then I’ll consider your spots.” Your eyes snap to Lucifer, raising an eyebrow as you both try to brainstorm the quickest way to New York.

“Kay, thanks Nicky.” You hang up as you drop your phone next to you onto the cushions of the couch, the phone bouncing before it finally stopped.

“Let’s just teleport there.” “Teleporting.” You and Lucifer said at the same time, the action making you smirk before you stood up and pocketed your phone once more.

“Kay, now let’s hurry up before Fury pops a blood vessel.” You turn your head to glance at him behind you before you walked off and into your bedroom.

You knew Fury and his tests, it was common sense he’d try and test your skills once more, especially with how long you had ghosted him for. But this time, you couldn’t help but think he had something else under his sleeve, and it wasn’t his tests.

Standing in the middle of your room, you immediately went straight to your walk in closet. This home really had its perks, you were honestly glad Lucifer bought it. Rummaging through the depths of your neatly folded clothes, you found what you were looking for.

Its appearance was one of a jewel, more so a ruby. It was roughly cut and sharp, as if it was made to be a head of a spear. The mere jewel wasn’t only a jewel though, it was a powerful weapon that was soon passed down to you. 

It was certainly stronger than you and Lucifer combined, containing magic that could even kill higher entities. You never considered harnessing it, as you mostly relied on the powers you were born with. 

But you knew Fury wasn’t going to just let the two of you join without testing your limits. As you gazed down into the jewel, you could practically see your reflection on it, but except it wasn’t your regular form. 

Your reflection on the jewel revealed yourself with your horns on show, the elongated horns traveling back before it curled in on itself, much like a goat. You broke your stare from your horns, your eyes traveling to your wings folded behind you on your back.

You blink a few times before looking away from the jewel, sighing as you tucked the jewel into the pocket that hid on the inside of your zip-up jacket. Your eyes skimmed across your room, looking for anything else you should consider taking with you to New York.

Assuming there wasn’t anything left to bring, you turn and walk towards your bedroom door, closing it with a soft thud as you left the room. You notice Lucifer back in the living room but not in the same spot as you had left him.

“You got what you need, brother?” 

“Well there isn’t anything else to bring, not unless you want me to bring a bottle of wine to greet them.” 

You laugh while you rolled your eyes at his comment before flames begin to emerge by the both of your feet. “Just don’t piss them off, Lucifer.” You say the moment before the flames engulf your face.

It was necessarily hard to describe what you were seeing while you teleported there, it was as if you were in space floating around for a split minute. The process was quick though, before you knew it, you were in New York and just right outside Fury’s meeting room where he told you to meet up.

You waited for at least a minute for Lucifers arrival, your hands reaching down into the pockets of your zip-up and tugging at the loose threads. You zoned out for however long it was and didn’t notice Lucifer shuffling as he regained his composure next to you.

“Y/n?” Your eyes immediately snap towards him before sighing, jeez were you that zoned out. You blink a few times before taking another deep breath to compose yourself, before turning towards Lucifer once more.

“Kay, let’s head in now. Looks like Fury’s just waiting for us.” You nod your head in the direction of the door as you turn to open it quietly, as to not disturb Fury’s oh so wonderful speech.

But quietly didn’t really work out for you as Fury’s eye promptly travels to you, get it, eye? Not eyes? Okay, anyway. His attention hadn’t been the only one you and Lucifer caught, as you took notice of a bulky blond man clad in a very bright blue suit staring straight at you both. 

Alongside with the man sitting next to him, another bulky man but clad in a dark combat suit with an eminently noticeable metal arm with a red star that resided on the shoulder. It looked cool, not everybody can walk around with a cool metal arm.

Your eyes soon travel back to Fury only to find he’s still staring at you, but you notice his mouth opens as he begins to speak once more as he stands up straighter. 

“Avengers,” Fury grabs their attention, their heads turning to meet him as they wait for what he’s going to say. “As I’m sure, Steve and Bucky already noticed the two new individuals in the back of the room.” 

Their heads snap in the direction of you and Lucifer, for a moment your gaze meets with a redheaded woman as she seemed to be analyzing you? Her face was void of any emotion, not letting you determine what had been going on in her head. 

You blink before averting your gaze away from her, your eyes focusing themselves on Fury as he continues to speak. “This is why I called for todays meeting, we will welcome two additional member, Y/n and Lucifer.” 

You see the redhead in the corner of your eye furrow her eyebrows at the mention of your names, you heard Lucifer let out a quiet sigh as neither of you didn’t really feel like explaining.

“As in the two fallen angels, Y/n and Lucifer?” You heard the white man with the blue suit inquire, his head tilting to the left slightly as he raises his eyebrows in question.

“Well there can’t be another pair of us, can there?” You quip, effectively cutting Fury off before he answered him, you raised an eyebrow towards the blond man as a smirk begins to tug on the corner of your lips. 

Fury clears his throat as he begins to speak once more, the action making you huff as you roll your eyes. Your eyes found themselves falling back onto the redhead, finding that she had already been looking at you.

You send her a soft smile and a wink as you immediately avert your gaze, prompting to try and familiarize yourself with the other members. You find yourself soon looking at a gruff looking man, he had a bow perched on his back while his bag of arrows hung on the back of his chair.

Looking towards the woman next to him, her clothes had an immensely dark contrast compared to the blond man from earlier. What would you expect, you couldn’t really imagine a white man with striking blue eyes to wear dark clothes.

You were pulled from your thoughts as you felt a nudge to your arm, looking to your left, you see Lucifer already glancing at you with a certain look. It was a stern look, as if to tell you to pay attention, weird. Lucifer was always the mischievous one out of the pair.

You notice that Fury had already gone through most of his talk and was asking for anymore questions, your eyebrows raising up to your forehead at the amount of people perking up. Glancing at Lucifer, you could tell that he was just as surprised as you were. 

“How come Fury never recruited you two earlier? Could’ve used the help.” A man with slightly slicked back hair with a sharp beard spoke up, making you smirk. He had a big ego, you could tell that you and him were immediately going to be close. 

“Simple, he did….Well tried. But we ghosted him, we weren’t up for that yet.” 

“So wait, if you both are fallen angels then where are your wings?” The blond man questioned once more. You roll your eyes while Lucifer snickered, his shoulders shaking as he laughed, but Lucifer soon decided to perk up once he composed himself.

“We still have them.” 

“Then where are they? They clearly aren’t on your back.” Somebody new quips, making your eyes snap to the origin of the new voice. Now this person you couldn’t miss, it was Bruce Banner, or well the Hulk. 

Now one could question why you didn’t know everybody else but him, well simply because he’s so reckless that he really makes a name for himself everywhere he goes. You see Lucifer in the corner of your eye clenching his jaw, trying his hardest to not laugh in his face, so you decide to speak for him.

“Well, Bruce. Would people still see a part of hulk in you once you transform back into your human form? Cause pray to the gods you aren’t green, or as large as this room.“ You quip as you raise an eyebrow at him, your eyes narrowing slightly before your face breaks out in a grin while Lucifer cackles. You can hear quiet snickering coming from the room as you stare straight through Bruce.

You and Lucifer glance at each other before spreading your wings to their full length, you were aware honestly glad that you managed to create clothes that never ripped after displaying your wings. The action was quick, your wings popped out as they gracefully folded behind you, still on display.

You could honestly laugh with how stunned Bruce looked, but with the way Fury had glanced you and Lucifer, you kept quiet.

“Enough. Natasha, Steve, can you please escort Y/n and Lucifer to their quarters?” Fury rolled his eye as he slumped back into his chair, his hand rubbing at his temples. You heard the two individuals hum in response as they stood up and walked over towards you and Lucifer. 

“I better not find you fucking the American Idol, Luci.” You lean into his side as you whisper in his ear before you stood up straight as you felt Lucifer glaring at your side profile.

You notice that the redheaded lady, that you now know as Natasha is going to be the one escorting you, making you smile slightly. She really had interested you.

“Y/n Morningstar, and who may you be?” You inquire in a soft voice as you held out your right hand.

“Natasha, Natasha Romanoff.” She replied, her voice was husky which made her all the more attractive to you. But her tone that came along with her voice gave you a feeling she didn’t like you. 

She took your hand in her glove cladded hands before she swiftly turned around and started walking down the hall, the action surprising you before you immediately started walking by her side.

You snuck side glances here and there while on the way to your quarters, she had a cute button nose with plump lips. But what caught your attention the most was her slightly pinched together eyebrows and clenched jaw. 

That sold it for you, even if you weren’t able to read mind, you could tell she didn’t like you. At all. The two of you made it to an elevator and boarded it, your mind soon travelled to Lucifer and wondered how he was holding up. 

But that thought soon disappears as Natasha breaks the silence between you two. 

“Listen, I don’t know where the hell you or your brother came from but don’t expect anything from me or the team, you aren’t here to be buddies with us. Just stay out of the way.” She turned to you, her eyes narrowed as her face contorted into a slight snarl.

Your jaw instantly clenches while you keep your eyes on your reflection on the elevator doors. You take a slow breath as you close your eyes, your jaw slowly relaxing as you try to keep your cool. 

“Alright.” You mumble, well damn, there goes the chance of trying to make a friend in this cruel world. You always wondered why everybody recoiled so far from you and your brother the moment they find out you truly are. Would there ever be people who would accept you? 

————♡————

You were stood in the middle of the room, examining the area of space. It was spacious, incredibly at that, you knew Tony would spent tons of thousands on room upgrades just so he could feel luxurious. 

Had you gotten to know him after that interaction with Natasha, oh yeah. Tony was exactly like you, but a male version, no offense to Lucifer. Lucifer was similar to you but he had 

aspects that you were deeply happy you didn’t have.

You honestly were disappointed that the redhead was so hostile with you, you and Lucifer just wanted a tiny get away from LA. You shrugged it off, you couldn’t be friends with everybody, it’s bound to have a few people disliking you. 

A sharp knock echoed throughout the room, making you whirl around towards the door with your eyebrows pinched together. You slowly waltz to the door as you wondered who would be at your door.

You swung the door open and to your dismay, it had been Natasha. Her hand was still raised before it quickly shot down to rest at her side, her face was still void of any emotion as you stare through her with a raised eyebrow.

“What do you need, Natasha?” She blinks as her arms crossed over her chest as she kept heavy eye contact with you with her emerald gaze.

“We’re testing your abilities, get ready and meet me in the training room in 5.” Blunt. That was real blunt. Natasha leaned onto your doorframe, putting her weight in it as she waits. You assume she isn’t going to leave so you walk back into your room, grab your phone and walk past her.

“You aren’t going to change?” She asked, raising a perfectly arched eyebrow at you as she turned her head to glance at you.

“I wasn’t able to bring any clothes, was just planning to buy some tomorrow with Lucifer.” She hummed in response before standing up straight and shuts your door. 

“You mind leading me to the training room?” You hold out your arm to let her pass by you before you started walking right behind her. She huffs but stays quiet as she walks down the halls she practically memorized like the back of her hand.

The walk on the way to the training room was unbelievably quiet, to the point your footsteps could be considered the loudest.  Once the two of you enter through the doors of the room, straight away you notice Lucifer with Steve. 

You roll your eyes as a smile breaks its way onto your face, you could tell Lucifer was pulling his punches, afraid to hurt the American boy. Lucifer and you were powerful beings, but it was hilarious to see him try and hold back. 

But deep inside you knew it was because you both never hurt anybody other than those who deserved it. You shake that thought from your head as you walk towards the benches, opting to wrap your hands just in case, also to pass time.

You heard shuffling next to you on the bench as you felt a thigh press against yours. Looking up from your hands, you see Lucifer barely breaking a sweat as he drink from his water bottle.

“When are you planning to tell them that you’re pulling your punches, Luci?” You whisper as you turn your head slightly to get a glimpse of his face, a smirk forming on your face.

“If you have a problem with me pulling them, why don’t you train with me?” He raised an eyebrow at you as he tossed his water bottled from one hand to the other. 

His voice happened to be loud enough for a few other members to hear, making you subtly kick his foot at his comment. “Fine, get in the ring.” You shrug, standing up from the bench as you stepped your way to the ring.

Standing up straight in the ring, you let your mind wander as you disassociated yourself from the stares of the other members. You take a deep breath, trying to get yourself in the zone and relaxed.

Your eyes shot open as your ears perked up once you heard Lucifer hop into the ring, a smile gracing itself on your face as you followed his movements. 

You both circled each other around the ring as the crowd around you both grew. From the corner of your eye, you could see Natasha staring at you both, her attention caught as she wondered what would be the results.

Your eyes narrowed, completely zoned in on Lucifer, deciding you should go for the first punch. You smirk as you sped behind him, kicking him from under his feet as he catches himself. 

He reeled back his fist for a right hook while you were still knelt on the mat, until you fell back onto your back as you kicked your legs up, kicking his jaw in the process as you flipped away from him, regaining your balance.

You felt a little bad, you really did, so you patiently waited a minute before he swung once more. He faked a jab as her proceeded to kick you in the side, sending you back a step before you lunged at him. 

You quickly wrapped your legs around his torso as you held him a tight headlock. Feeling him starting to sway, you loosened your grip as you switched your positions before you feel, resulting with you on your back as his full weight fell on top of you, the jewel falling out of your pocket.

“Get the hell off of me you big ogre.” You grunted, the impact leaving you breathless as you pushed him off you, quickly grabbing the jewel from off the mat. You immediately left the ring to take a swig of your water, your eyes full of amusement at the shock of your new teammates. 

Your gaze accidentally falls on Natasha as you admiring, wait admiring, were you really admiring or just looking? You couldn’t really tell the difference. 

Natasha was in a heated conversation with Clint and Steve, your eyebrows pinched together tightly the longer you stared. Natasha seemed pissed, was it because of your training session with Lucifer? It couldn’t have. But her next words caught your attention.

“I don’t give a fuck, Steve. I don’t understand why Fury just let them on the team without a fight, they’re dangerous.“ She hissed at Steve, her fists clenching and relaxing as you can see the crescent shapes starting to form on her palms.

“He recruited them with the same motive as us, Nat. He wants them to improve and reflect on themselves. Neither of us know what they did or seen, but we shouldn’t judge them based off of their past mistakes.” Clint butt in, his tone firm but still soft, wanting Natasha to understand him.

“But we still don’t know if they’ll be a danger to the city, Clint. For all we know, they could just fly off and blow up the damn city from under us.” 

Your teeth grind together as your jaw clenches tightly, trying your hardest to not react. The urge to retort back with a petty comment is strong, but you promised yourself that’d this be a good vacation.

“That’s enough.” Steve growls, before he turns away from the best friends and walks off towards the weights. Natasha was shell shocked, she froze for a moment before her face hardens once more. Her eyes drifting over to you as she met your gaze.

She was expecting the same irises that held an unspeakable kindness within them to be looking back at her, but she felt her heart drop when she saw your narrowed gaze. Why did her stomach drop, had you heard her? Why would she care if you’d heard her, she wanted you to hear, right? 

Her eyes flickering between your features, silently analyzing you. Your lip was slightly pulled up in a small snarl as your eyebrows were tightly stitched together, your eyes were void of the kindness she once saw. 

Your eyes held many emotions she couldn’t decipher, but what she did know was that you were hurt and deeply pissed off. She saw you roll your eyes before you turned your back to her, setting your steps towards the door. 

Her mouth opened to attempt to call out to you, but she instantly closed it, the attempt futile as you were already out the door. Why was she going to call out to you? You were dangerous and proved that point during training. She sat down on a nearby bench as she slouched, rubbing her temples. Unbeknownst to her, you weren’t the only one who heard the commotion.

————♡————

Here you were, perched on the rooftop with your wings fluttering in the wind behind you, watching the sunset. It had been a few hours after you stormed out the training room, you didn’t spend much time reflecting on it. You simply pushed it to the back of your mind as you gazed out towards the city.

To be frank, you were lying your ass off. It wasn’t simple at all, not that her words weren’t something you were used to. It was a normal occurrence for you and Lucifer, but it hurt when it came from somebody you just wanted to be friends with. 

You couldn’t help but feel incredibly discriminated, who was she to start claiming that you and your brother were dangers to the city? Then what would she consider Banner? 

He was a big green ogre with insane anger issues, he tears up city buildings and endangered many citizens. You and Lucifer weren’t even close to that, you both may have killed people but in your defense, they were terrible people.

You and Lucifer never went after innocent individuals, it was like crossing a big boundary. The two of you killed people who bound to get punished, mass murderers, rapists, anything that had a victim, you both dealt with suspect. 

It was relieving when you both changed your ways, you loved scaring people into jail, it humored you. You and Lucifer were monsters, you understood that. What else would people consider a being with wings and horns? Definitely not a human.

You sighed, just now realizing the impact of Natasha’s words on you. Deny it all you want, deep down, you knew that her words triggered something in you. 

You were snapped out of your daze when you heard heavy footsteps walking towards you, not reacting when you felt the individual sit next to you, pressing their shoulder against yours.

“How you holdin’ up, Y/n/n?” Your eyes travel to Tony’s at the nickname, you had met him just yesterday and now he was on nickname basis? Crazy. 

“Alright, just needed fresh air.” You lied, your gaze slowly falling back onto the scenery in front of you, it wasn’t everyday where you could get a view like this.

“Don’t lie to me, kid. You have a great poker face but I can see right through it. You thinkin’ about what Natasha said?” It was like he read your mind, the thought making you huff out a laugh. You lick your lips in thought before replying to him.

“Yeah, I mean it just wasn’t necessary. Clint was right, Fury wanted us both to take the chance to make ourselves something more than what we were made as. Just like the rest of you.” 

You sigh, the thought of you and Lucifer as children pushing itself to the front of your mind, the memory of being cast out of heaven, your only home. The tears forming in the corners of your eyes, obstructing your vision slightly before you blink them away. 

“Don’t let it get to you, she’s just being defensive. She’s not so used to new members, it takes her decades before she even becomes nice to them.”

 He attempts to console you, reaching over your wings to grasp at your shoulders, rubbing them as he pulled you into him. 

You hum in response, the breathtaking sunset comforting you alongside Tony. You appreciated him, even if you had met him yesterday, he knew what was going on in your head immediately.

Unbeknownst to you two, a certain redhead stood at the door of the rooftop, originally looking for Tony to take a look at her widow bites. The guilt in gnawed at her as the sight in front of her practically made her want to be the one hugging you.

She was also thinking of ways to attempt to apologize to you, she wasn’t aware that you had overheard her words. She looked down at the widow bites in her hand before turning towards the door once more, wanting you two to have your moment.

————♡————

“What the fuck, Romanoff! What is your fucking problem!” Tony stormed in the room, his booming footsteps going straight towards Natasha as he yells out.

“What is your problem, Tony? The fuck did I do?” She shot up from her seat on the couch, stalking towards Tony.

“What bothers you so much about the siblings that you have to go out and make them seem unwelcome!” 

“Tony-“ “No! Let me fucking speak, Romanoff.” He cut her off as he walked up closer to her, his jaw tightly clenched to the point you can hear his teeth grinding.

“You had go out and ruin shit for them, especially Y/n. Who are you to tell her to stay out of our way? She’s new!!” He growled as he harshly jabbed a finger into her shoulder, pushing her back slightly.

“And it’s not up to you whenever Fury picks a new recruit because guess what, he knows their potential better than us. He studies them and their abilities, and if you don’t trust Fury with that, then you’re out of your goddamn mind.” 

Tony was seething, his face turning a shade of red as his finger on Natasha’s shoulder grew in pressure. His jaw visibly clenched as his eyes are narrowed at Natasha.

“I don’t understand why you’re so hostile towards them when we were once like them too. Enemies left and right of us and nowhere to go, we were all considered monsters. So I suggest you take your ass over to them and apologize.” 

Tony hissed, his tone lowering slightly but still enough to get his point across, before he drops his hand from her. He gave her one last look before storming off to his lab, presumably to tinker with his suits out of frustration.

Natasha was still stood there in shock, her eyes wide open as she was frozen. Had she really fucked up that bad? She ran a hand over her face before running off and asking FRIDAY for your location.

Hearing that you could be found in the training room, Natasha practically sprinted there. Her thoughts were racing as she was thinking of words, any words to apologize. 

She never wanted to act like that, if only she was able to actually communicate how she actually felt. She soon arrived at the doors of the training room, taking a deep breath as she swiftly opened the glass door.

There you stood, your wings folded as you used your telekinesis to throw spears into a very mangled target. Her footsteps were quiet as she made her way towards you, putting distance between you two incase you sent a spear towards her.

“Y/n?” She called out to you, her tone softer than you’ve ever heard it as you threw your last spear into the target, before turning your head slightly an action that meant you heard her.

“Listen, I know what I said was incredibly uncalled for. You and Lucifer are new and I shouldn’t have just blew up like that, especially when I don’t know anything about you two.”

You stayed silent, your eyes staring into the destroyed bullseye of the target as you listened. You wanted her to say whatever she wanted to say before you spoke.

“I had no right to call you dangerous, especially when every single one of us here is dangerous too. I shouldn’t have blamed Fury for recruiting you two when he knows more about you than I do, he knows all the good you did when I don’t.” 

Natasha practically rambles as she ran a hand through her hair, looking at your face for any emotion, anything that could help her determine your thoughts. She sighed as she continued once more. 

“I just wanted to say, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone straight to judging you.” Her voice hushing down into a whisper as she looks away from you in shame.

That’s when you finally move your gaze towards her, your eyes scanning through her body language as you process her words. Her eyes held a genuine look in them.

“But what if that doesn’t stop you from judging my past mistakes.” You hissed. 

“You were so quick to jump the gun and be defensive, and I understood that, but calling me dangerous? You have a whole ogre on this team.” You deadpanned as you stare straight through her, her eyes widening a fraction as her gaze snaps towards you.

“It’s just how I am, its always been hard for me to trust people so quick. I never meant to put you down, I just got so grown to this family that I never expected anything new.” 

She whispered, this was a total change to you. Her voice and eyes held a venerability that you once saw in yourself, you crack your knuckles as you drown yourself into your thoughts. 

“You’re a bitch, you know that.” You say as you look back up to Natasha, your gaze is sharper than a knife. You see Natasha recoil slightly as she turns her head away from you.

Sighing, you step forward with a quiet step before pulling her into your embrace, one hand resting on her waist while the other combs through her hair. Your wings acting like a second pair of arms as they enclose around the both of you.

“You’re okay. I forgive you.” You whisper as you felt her bury her head deeper in the juncture of your neck as her hold on your tightens a fraction.

[unearthly-doting]

yandere farmer

a/n: smth smth i Really like people w southern accents smth smth so here's a farmer. im not 100% satisfied w this one but it's been in my drafts for so long so here it is.

warnings: mdni, not proofread, yandere content, gn reader, male yandere, idk how cars work so, overprotective behavior, obsessive behavior, reader has hair in this sorry if u dont, murder, brief mention of vomit, non-con kissing, mild depictions of gore, choking, i think that's it??

— maybe it's a bit cliché but life in the big city was exhausting, and all you wanted to do was get away from it all. it was a bit sudden, deciding you wanted to uproot your entire life and start somewhere new, but you knew that this is exactly what you needed.

— and it's not as if you weren't going into this blind. a friend of yours had a family vacation home in a small farm town that hadn't been used in years, and they were willing to let you stay there until you could find a place of your own.

— you had everything planned out. you had enough money on you for gas and food for the drive there, and you had already had some of your stuff shipped off to your new temporary home, so you didn't have to worry about leaving anything behind. you even kept a little extra money on you in case you needed to crash at a motel.

— the drive had started off fine. traffic wasn't too bad as you left the city, and there were no major setbacks until you were almost at your destination. when you were 20 miles out from the farmer town you'd be living in, your car just suddenly died on you. it still had gas in the tank, and there didn't seem to be anything wrong with the car itself, it just… died.

— what's worse is the fact that your phone had no service. you suppose that's not too shocking, considering how far out in the country you are, but it's a bit shocking, isn't it? you're not that educated on farming life or this small town, but surely they had modern technology, right?

— it's cliché, honestly. it felt like the start of some cheap slasher. or maybe a southern christmas romance movie. you're not quite sure which would be worse. the slasher, realistically. whatever, you're getting off track.

— the point is, your car is dead, your phone is useless, and it's starting to get dark. you could probably make it to that motel you saw a few miles back, but you didn't really feel comfortable leaving your car out here alone. not to mention you're not even sure if you have enough money on you to cover one night at a motel.

— the universe, in all her mercy, takes pity on you before you can get too upset over your plight, because not even 20 minutes after your car stops, a truck drives by. it's beat up, but it slows to a stop next to your car. the window rolls down, revealing the driver to be a man just a little older than you.

— he asked if you needed help, and offered to tow your car and drive you to town. you didn't have much choice but to agree, and the drive to town was… not as awkward as you thought it would be, actually.

— the man introduced himself as rigby shaw, a farmer that lives on the outskirts of town. you actually drove by his farm maybe 15 miles back, and he had been heading into town to pick up some medication for one of his dogs when he saw you pacing outside your car. in turn, you told him how you were moving into the small town because life in the city had been overwhelming.

— rigby didn't think you'd survive long outside of the city. city folk rarely ever strive in small, out of touch towns, away from modern technology. the small handful that made their way here always went back to the city not even three months into being here, so he didn't expect to see you last long either. you were nicer than most city folk, though.

— but you were determined to make a living out here, so when rigby dropped you off, you got to work immediately. you unpacked your stuff that had been there waiting for you, and in the morning, you got to work trying to fix your car. turns out, your fan belt had somehow come loose just enough that your car could no longer function. why? who knows, maybe the universe was in a silly mood.

— anyways, you settled into the small town life with relative ease, and rigby was very surprised when he returned to town a few weeks later, you were still there. the only thing you were struggling with was finding a job. maybe because he was fascinated by your determination, but rigby ended up offering you a job on his farm. he did need help taking care of the crops and feeding the animals there, but he mostly just wanted to learn more about you.

— you were a fast learner, and his dogs took to you fairly quickly. the cattle and horses were a little less trusting, though that was expected. he's sure they'll take to you soon enough, given how you respect their boundaries and go at their pace unlike his previous farmhands. you had no problem taking on any challenge rigby had set up for you, and maybe that's when he started finding himself thinking about you.

— if he's out in town while you're on the farm, he's worrying that you might get injured without him around. you can take care of yourself, but he can't help but worry. same for when you're in town while he's on the farm. you’re still an outsider there, and he knows that some of the townsfolk may try scaring you off. or maybe they'll try hurting you. or maybe you'll be completely fine and he's just overreacting.

— he starts hovering around you more often when you're on his farm, jumping in to help you whenever he thinks you might be struggling with something. you think he's just worried you might fuck his crops up or something, so you never really pay much mind to his behavior. it only struck you as odd when he insisted on helping you feed the dogs of all things. was he scared you would poison them? you wouldn't, obviously, so you don't know why he'd think that.

— his behavior only seems to escalate when you meet a guy in town one day and start going on casual dates with him. he was… shocked, when you asked to take the day off because of some guy. in the months that you've been living in town, you had never shown any interest in pursuing a romantic relationship with… anyone, truly. you had always seemed so dedicated to working on the farm and making a living for yourself, rigby had never even considered you could want anything other than that.

— at first, he felt disappointed. why would you prioritize dates with some guy when you could be working on the farm with him instead? it took him a bit to realize that disappointment he was feeling was jealousy. he hated when you'd step away from him to accept calls from your new boyfriend. he hated how you stopped eating lunch with him in favor of eating it with your boyfriend.

— your boyfriend wasn't even that great of a guy. rigby did some research on him–it's not stalking, he's just making sure it's safe for you to date this guy!–and he was not pleased with what he found. you could do so much better! you didn't understand why rigby was so interested in your boyfriend, always asking questions about how he treats you, if he's really what you're looking for in a relationship, if you actually loved him…

— you couldn't help but notice how touchy rigby has become as well, his hands always lingering on you far too long when he helps you with your work. you swear that you've heard him smell your hair a few times when he's close as well. he's been acting weird ever since you officially started dating your boyfriend. he's even going as far as to pile more work on top of you, leaving little free time for you to spend with your lover.

— it's gotten unbearable to the point where you decided you ultimately needed to find a new place to work. you liked rigby, he was a great guy with a kind heart, but his behavior was bordering on obsession and you didn't want to enable this behavior by ignoring it. your boyfriend agreed, and with his help, you were able to find a job at the local market in town.

— rigby was not pleased when he heard you on the phone with your lover, talking about how you'd tell him you were quitting after you finished work.

You're not really sure what happened. One moment, you were on the phone with your boyfriend and then the next, you were being hit in the head and everything had gone dark. The sun had only just started setting when you had been knocked out, but it was completely dark outside when you had woken up.

Your head was pounding as you opened your eyes, looking around in an attempt to figure out what the hell had happened to you. You were still on the farm, that much you knew. The first thing that worried you was the fact that your hands were bound to a wooden post, leaving you unable to move without injuring yourself. Your phone was broken on the ground, so it was completely useless.

Did a trespasser knock you out? It's not the first person people have trespassed on the farm, trying to steal the horses or ‘save’ the animals Rigby had. You had assumed that to be the case, because… what else could have happened for you to be tied up like this?

“Rigby?!” You shout his name, wincing at the throbbing in your head as you did so. Was he okay? Was he hurt? What if something happened to him? What if–

Your panicked thoughts get put on pause when a light blinded you, and you shied away from it as best as you could as you tried to figure out its source. It seemed to be a flashlight, and you only realized who was holding it when they got closer.

For a moment, you relaxed at the sight of Rigby, relieved to see he was okay as he approached, though there was something off about him. Maybe it was the fact that he didn't seem injured, yet there was blood on his hands. Or maybe it was the… borderline crazed look in his eyes.

Something wasn't right.

“Rigby…?” You hesitantly called his name, your relief bleeding away into a reluctant unease, “Are you okay? What happened? Why am I tied up?”

His silence did little to help you as he set his flashlight down on the ground and started undoing your binds. Your wrists felt raw as you gently rubbed them once they were free, standing up while Rigby retrieved his flashlight.

“Rigby, what the hell is going on?” You ask, growing frustrated at being left in the dark. You had been knocked out and tied up, so you think you deserve some sort of explanation as to what had happened.

“I have a gift for you.” Rigby says, completely dodging your question as he grabbed your wrist and pulled you after him. His grip was tight, almost bruising as he dragged you along, ignoring you when you asked him to loosen his grip on you. He refused to answer any of your questions, and you were starting to get worried.

You've never been scared of Rigby. Sure, his behavior lately had been concerning, but you had no reason to be scared. But right now, you couldn't help but feel a bit afraid as he led you in the dark. Your concern only grew when you realized he was taking you to the barn the pigs were kept in.

“Will you just tell me what's going on?” Your words fall upon deaf ears as he passes the flashlight to you, motioning for you to take the lead as he opens the barn doors. You hesitate before shining the flashlight in the barn, slowly stepping forward.

Most of the pigs were sleeping in their own separate stalls, a few were watching you and Rigby with indifference as you both stepped deeper into the barn. But two things stood out to you. One, a handful of pigs were nowhere to be seen. Two, there was this weird… squelching sound coming from the back of the barn.

“It's just back there.” Rigby says, his breath hitting the back of your neck and causing you to jump. You hadn't even realized how close he had gotten. You scurry forward just to get some distance. Truthfully, you didn't want to see this ‘gift’ Rigby was talking about, but you knew that you couldn't turn back.

Deep down, you knew something horrible was about to happen. The squelching sound grew louder, and you could hear the sound of chewing along with it. When you looked back at Rigby for some sort of reassurance, he just had this strange smile on his face. It sent a chill down your spine.

And when you hesitantly looked in the last stall at the very back of the barn to see the source of the noise, your ‘gift’, you dropped the flashlight in horror and let out a scream as you stumbled back right into Rigby's arms.

On the ground was your boyfriend's corpse, his face nearly maimed beyond recognition as several pigs chewed at his body. You're lucky you're able to swallow the vomit in your throat as you try to get out of Rigby's hold, looking away from the horrific scene in front of you as you cried.

“Let go of me!” You claw at his arms, but he just holds you tightly against his chest, gently shushing you as he forces you to watch the pigs eat.

“Do you like it?” He asks, completely ignoring your horror, “It wasn't hard getting him to come here. I just told him you had an accident, and suddenly, he was on his way. Isn't that sweet? It's a shame he wasn't stronger… he never would've been able to protect you if someone tried hurting you. But I can, see? I can give you what you deserve.”

You weren't even listening to his deluded words, trying to squirm out of his hold, “You're a fucking monster.” You spit out, a sharp gasp being torn out of your mouth when he shoves you against the wall of the barn, his hand around your throat as he lightly squeezes. A subtle threat, one that had you shutting up.

“I expect some fucking gratitude, you ungrateful brat.” Rigby’s voice is cold, his anger had never been something you'd ever been on the receiving end of, “I did this for you. For us. You should be thanking me.” His hand on your throat tightens, squeezing the air out of your lungs, his gaze hard as he stares at you expectantly.

Desperate for air, you're barely able to wheeze out a small, “Thank you.”

As black spots start to fill your vision, Rigby removes his hand from your neck, and you're able to breathe again. His anger was gone, replaced with delighted satisfaction.

“Of course, darlin’.” He sweetly says, a bloodied hand coming up to gently wipe the tears off your face, “I'd do anything for you. I can provide for you, so just be good for me in return, okay?”

And as he pulls you into a kiss, his lips pressing against yours with a heated desperation, you find yourself missing the city for the first time since you left it.

[1d1195]

Neighbors Extra VII

Read Neighbors here | ~1.8k words

From me: surprise! This has been in my drafts since I finished the original storyline

Warnings: none

Summary: It's the first s'mores fire of the summer. She and Harry are in love with their little life. And Rory hates lying.

“Hey lad,” Harry said. They were sitting on the couch watching the latest Disney movie that Rory had been asking to watch. Harry paused it and Rory looked at Harry curiously. He wondered if he forgot to put his shoes away or a different chore that Mumma asked before she left to see his Auntie. “D’you remember when y’went to the hospital cause y’were sick... and we ate pancakes the next morning?”

“I remember. Mumma made chocolate milk,” he nodded.

“Right,” Harry chuckled. The real highlight of that morning it seemed. “Do y’remember me asking if I could date, Mummy?”

He thought for a moment and nodded. For Rory, that was a weird question when it was asked. But he didn’t think too much of it in itself because he was little. Also, Harry was his best friend, so he didn’t really mind because it just meant he got to play with Harry more often. “Yeah, I remember.”

Harry smiled, took a deep breath. “Do y’think you’d be okay with me marrying Mummy?”

“What’s that? Like have Christmas with Mumma?” his little brow puckered together. “We already do that Harry, silly.”

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. Rory was the cutest thing in the entire world. “That’s merry with an e, lad. I said marry with an a. D’you know what marry means?”

He shook his head. “I hearded it once in a movie.”

Harry smiled and looked at his hands a moment before he looked up at the now six-year-old. “I ask Mummy if she wants t’marry me and if she says yes, I have t’give Mummy a ring t’put on her finger. And then we would have a big party.”

“I like parties,” Rory smiled impishly nodding his head.

Harry laughed quietly again and nodded. “Me too. All of our friends and family would come and... well I’d be Mummy’s husband and she’d be my wife.”

Rory knew those words from kindergarten. His teacher had a husband. “Wouldn’t you be my dad, then?”

Swallowing nervously, Harry nodded. He was wondering if Rory would think about that. “Well, yeah, kind of.”

“I thought you already were,” Rory shrugged casually.

Harry chuckled. He could have cried if he wasn’t trying so hard to keep it together. “Well thanks, lad. I kind of think so too. This would make it a bit more real.”

“Would you and Mumma have another baby?”

“Maybe,” Harry smiled. He certainly hoped so.

“I think Mumma would like a girl,” he told Harry. “So then she would have someone to play with like I play with you.”

Harry smiled. “So I can marry her?”

“Does this mean you have to kiss more?” He wrinkled his nose.

“Probably.”

“I still don’t like kissing,” he grumbled.

“I know, lad. We won’t kiss that much in front of you.”

“Well, yeah,” he shrugged. “You can marry her. Can we finish the movie?”

Harry pulled Rory into his arms and gave him a huge hug and kissed the top of his head. “I love you, Rory,” Harry said knowingly.

“I love you too, Harry,” he giggled.

*

“Mumma, do we have s’mores stuff?” Rory asked.

“Hmm... let me go look,” she said. “I’ll get some drinks, too. Do you want anything in particular, baby?” She asked looking at Harry.

Harry’s heart warmed at her kindness as always. “M’fine, kitten, thank you.”

“Careful around the fire, boys,” she said as she headed back for the house to look for supplies and drinks. Rory was sitting patiently by the fire while Harry kept an eye on him and the flames. Glancing toward the gate leading out toward the front he saw a single hand wave over top and then a thumbs up.

“Hey lad, d’you remember our conversation from a couple weeks ago? When I asked you if I could marry Mummy?”

He nodded watching the flames. “We’ll have a party, right?”

Harry chuckled. “Yes,” he nodded. “Would y’want t’help me ask Mummy?” He wondered.

He shrugged. “Sure!” He wasn’t doing anything at the moment. Mumma and Harry always said he was a really good helper too.

“Good,” Harry grinned. “M’gonna ask her when she comes back out. D’you think y’can give her this?” He asked, handing him a card from the back of his chair’s pocket compartment. He nodded. “Tell her y’made it at school and y’want to give it to her now,” he winked.

“That’s lying, Harry,” Rory pouted and shook his head. “Mumma doesn’t like lying.”

Shoot. Harry forgot that Rory was the sweetest little boy in the world. “You’re right. S’a little fib, I promise she’ll forgive you. This is the one time.” He wrinkled his eyebrows together and pursed his lips. Rory really wanted to help Harry. But he did not like the idea of lying to Mumma. She would get really mad. “I promise this one is okay,” Harry said again.

Rory sighed and nodded. “Okay... just this once though.”

Harry nodded and crossed over his heart. “Just this once.”

“Alright boys,” she said returning with her arms full, silencing Harry’s prep work. “I have the goods. Are we ready for the first s’mores fire of the summer?” She said wrinkling her nose so cutely as she settled the stuff on the nearby patio table. Harry glanced at the gate once more and then back to her.

“Here, love,” Harry said moving to her side and pressing a hand on her lower back. “Let me,” he smiled. “You sit,” he said pressing a kiss on the side of her head so gently she wondered what that was all about. It was just s’mores. And she liked s’mores. She was good at making them and didn’t mind in the slightest. But it was nice as always for Harry to just do things for her after so many years of having to do everything on her own. Even when he did little things like scooping Rory up from his car seat or carrying the groceries in, it just made everything so much easier for her.

She thought about the month and a half she tried avoiding Harry. It was by far the stupidest thing she had ever done, and she wondered often what would have happened if she never got over her silly fears. But fortunately, she didn’t have to worry long, because Harry was right there, making s’mores for her and Rory like he always did.

“Mumma, I made this in school,” Rory said suddenly pulling her from her thoughts. Rory looked at Harry impishly as he handed the envelope to his mum. Good thing this would be the only lie. He was a little worse for wear on the delivery.

“For me?” She smiled curiously and took the envelope in her fingers. She slid open the top.

“Uh-huh,” Rory giggled sheepishly.

Harry glanced at the gate again and then held his breath as she pulled the card from the envelope. “What’s it say, Mumma?” Rory giggled and if she hadn’t already been reading the words on the card, she would have realized Rory had no part in this little scheme.

She turned suddenly after her eyes scanned the card once and she looked at Harry with wild eyes. “Harry?” She asked nervously.

“Harry said I could lie,” Rory said quickly seeing her discomfort and was worried he would get in trouble. He didn’t like it when Mumma was mad at him. Mumma was the best and didn’t ask Rory to do anything except to not lie. “Just this once,” he promised.

“That’s okay, love bug,” she said softly barely looking at him as she did. Relieved that he wasn’t going to upset Mumma, Rory sat back in his chair and waited for Harry to do whatever it was that he wanted to do.

For once, she ignored Rory. Her eyes stayed on Harry as she felt her heart nearly beat out of her ribs. “What does it say, beautiful?” Harry smiled. His eyes were so gentle.

“It says ‘Life is s’more fun with you, will you spend the rest of it with me?’” She read carefully.

Harry bit his lip. “It is s’more fun with you,” he repeated, and he moved in front of her chair and knelt between the fire and her. “Will you marry me?” It was amazing Harry could be so hopelessly in love with her and have her still be so surprised that she was deserving of love that was so all encompassing, Harry sometimes wondered how he could stay upright.

“Really?” She whispered breathlessly and her eyes darted to Rory so briefly, but Harry still caught it.

Harry chuckled. “Yes, really, you silly, sweet thing,” he rolled his eyes. “M’horribly in love with you and would like t’spend the rest of our lives together,” he repeated. “Please marry me?” He repeated.

“Are you sure?”

“Jesus Christ, just say yes!” Her sister’s voice distinctly called from the front gate.

“You brought my sister here?” She asked with a teary giggle.

“Auntie?!” Rory shouted and ran for the gate.

“Um... I brought everyone... I really anticipated you saying ‘yes’ a lot quicker than this,” he chuckled awkwardly. Rory opened the gate, and the entourage of people Harry invited came through the gate. Her eyes lifted to look at them so briefly she barely saw who was in attendance. Her eyes returned to Harry knelt before her waiting expectantly for her answer. “I’ll beg if you want,” he said softly with a grin.

“Mumma, look! Grandma’s here!”

She smiled and waved to her mom standing beside Anne and Gemma who were watching with such happy smiles. “You really want to marry me?” She asked softly. As if no one was in the backyard except her and Harry.

“Very badly,” he nodded, and he pulled the box from his pocket. “Maybe this will help,” he smiled gently. The diamond glittered in the sun so beautifully. Harry was wonderful. He always was and this was no exception. But she closed the box quickly as she answered.

“I’d marry you without it,” she whispered.

He chuckled, shook his head at her. “So that’s a yes?” Harry had never felt so happy. He didn’t think she would say no, but he knew she could convince herself she didn’t deserve happiness if he gave her enough time.

“God, yes,” she nodded and giggled excitedly. She leaned forward as Harry moved toward her as well and kissed her sweetly on the lips.

“You said no kissing!” Rory called.

She laughed against his lips, ignoring her son’s protest and continued kissing Harry. “I’ll love you forever,” she promised.

Harry grinned, nodded, and kissed her again as he mumbled against her lips. “And then some.”

--

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[reverie-starlight]

kenma for the soul <3

gn!reader, no physical descriptions. this was in my drafts for so long that I forgot abt it. based off of my own routine when I get a panic attack. I believe I wrote the bulk of this after one, actually.

warnings: depictions of a panic attack, my own personal coping methods (I swear they make sense in my head) and kenma being soft for you. this was edited at like 2 am so if there’s some mistakes… no there’s not.

it’ll pass.

you know that. you’ve known that for years, actually, yet somehow the sentiment doesn’t hold up in the moments you need it to the most.

kenma watches as you switch between sitting on the edge of the bed with him and pacing the length of your bedroom.

he really feels for you. he still gets panic attacks from time to time, after all, so he knows the basics of what you’re going through like the back of his hand.

he’s still trying to learn your specifics, though.

he’s observant and he’s strategic. with those skills, he’s gathered that you do not respond well to sitting still and taking deep breaths.

you continue pacing and wringing your fingers together, clenching and unclenching your fists and shaking your arms out (he recognizes this as literally trying to dispel the panic from your body).

he watches you closely, wanting to figure you out as soon as possible so he can utilize his strategic side and end your suffering. are you trying to tire yourself out? why is it that you don’t find the breathing exercises useful? why doesn’t sitting still and meditating benefit you?

oh… of course, why didn’t he think of that sooner?

you don’t like those coping methods because you see it as another opportunity to focus on your trigger. by trying to stop it, you just end up thinking about it more. they require you to be aware of every sensation in your body, but if you’re moving around a lot instead, it acts as a distraction.

so he’ll need to help you redirect your train of thought some more.

“babe,” he calls out quietly, not having the energy or willingness to be any louder at two in the morning.

you don’t stop pacing, but you look at him and nod to let him know you’re listening.

“let’s go to the kitchen.”

you blink as he gets up and takes your hand, leading you out of your bedroom. he hopes the change of scenery and mystery of what he has planned brings you out of your head a bit.

“kenma-“ you start, voice raw from the crying you did earlier.

“do you want to make cookies?”

you watch as he goes to the fridge and gets some water and ice cubes. (he read once that the ice can shock you out of panic and act as a good redirection strategy.)

you take the glass when he hands it to you and allow the chill of the ice ground you a bit.

your head feels clearer now. the panic had mostly subsided well before you were led out of the bedroom, but you had continued pacing anyway.

in your mind it makes sense- relaxing too soon, when it’s not quite gone, gives it the chance to come back and restart the cycle all over again. tiring yourself out and distracting yourself with the familiar movement patterns that helped stopped it in the first place…

it’s always worked for you.

and now, sitting up on the barstool by the kitchen island with kenma, you definitely feel the exhaustion.

so you shake your head. “no, I’m too tired, babe.”

he nods, successfully getting a read on your energy level. “okay,” he says. “drink your water, I can make toast for us.”

you blink at him. “why?”

he shrugs. “you must’ve worked up an appetite with all that walking, right? I got winded just watching you.”

you snort, surprisingly, and the corner of his mouth lifts up a bit. “I guess so… oh but kenma, I kept you up, you must be tired too.”

he gets the bread ready to put into the toaster and glances at you over his shoulder. “you do realize you’re dating someone who once streamed for twenty-four hours straight, right? one late night is nothing.”

you sip your water and hold an ice cube in your cheek, letting it melt. “still, I’m-“

“and don’t apologize. I know that’s what you were about to do.���

you sheepishly look down into your glass and let the silence linger until he presents you some buttered toast. “remember how I told you I used to get really bad panic attacks in high school? the ones I get now aren’t nearly as intense as those, but I do still know how draining they are,” he rips off a chunk of bread and feeds it to you. “it’s not too much to care for you, okay?“ he knows the feeling of being afraid to be a burden well, too, unfortunately.

you smile and knock your head against his as you chew. “thanks, kenma. I love you.”

there’s still a lot he has to learn for you, but he knows that if this were a video game, it’d be the easiest level he’d ever complete.

“love you too. now let’s finish this and get to bed.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@dira333 some kenma :3

[foreingersgod]

I LOVE THE FICS LATELY AND ALL THE TIME !!

one of them being the cc being obsessed with her gf , now i wanna see a kate martin being obsessed with her gf !!!

Always take rests !!!!

Work Song . KM

pairing: kate martin x reader

A/N: i’m not sure if anon wanted soft, tooth rotting obsession, but i yearn for sweetie pie kate so i hope it’s ok :’)

Boys workin' on empty

Is that the kinda way to face the burnin' heat?

kate was exhausted to say the least. practices, games…everything was really weighing down on her. she had so much on her plate all the time and it often got to be too much for her to handle. there was a lot of stress on her recently, being drafted and being the new girl on the team. she bared the overwhelming feeling of having to impress everyone, prove that she could handle it. and deep down she knew she could. kate was strong and smart and resilient, but her biggest fear was letting people down. letting you down.

that’s why, during times like this, she turned to you. her biggest supporter, her number one fan, her everything. you had been with her since the beginning. you were there for every meltdown and all the late nights spent in tears when kate felt like a failure. you were there for every loss and every win, there to clean up her nasty bruises and cuts. and now you were here to guide her through this huge change in her life. she wouldn’t be able to count on her fingers the amount of times you had truly saved her in the midst of all this. kate struggled with change, hated how she felt like she needed to start over with a whole new team and a whole new life. but you were there to remind her that nothing was going to change, you would still be with her every step of the way. all she needed was you, the most important thing in her life.

you were the reason she got up in the morning. you were the reason she kept pushing even when she felt like giving up. because she knew that at the end of the day, you’d be there with her, arms holding her tight to ground her. that you’d never leave her and, for that, she wanted to make you proud.

I just think about my baby

I'm so full of love, I could barely eat

she was gone for the week, in another state for an away game. but a week was 7 days too long for kate, she couldn’t stand being away from you. she remembers the night before she left, how she was packing her things unwillingly as you made sure she had everything in her bag. you were trying so hard to get her excited, it was going to be one of her first games upon her pro-ball debut and you had assumed she’d be ecstatic. but instead she was sulking (typical kate), talking about how much she was going to miss you.

“i can’t believe you’re about to go live out your life long dream and you’re sitting here pouting” you teased. she knew you were right, and she really was quite excited, but the thought that you wouldn’t be there killed her.

normally you would attend like you always did, but you needed to take the week to focus on finishing up school. kate admired the way you prioritized your studies, but there were times like these in which she cursed your determination. all she wanted was to see you out there, amongst the crowd, cheering her on. a big ‘20’ plastered on your shirt to show your support and a gratifying smile on your face. you were her lucky charm, she would say. but now she here, far from home and missing her girl.

it was the night before the game and kate and the team had opted for a nice dinner out. something to hype everyone up and to boost morale…well that’s what she was told. but it did little to cheer her up and get her excited. she dreaded leaving her lonely hotel room, somewhat dim and weary without you there with her. it had been a long time since she stayed in a room without you. kate had to fight her own mind to attend dinner with the girls, just wanting to stay in and facetime you instead. nevertheless, she managed to get dressed up and make an appearance.

the entire night she was miserable, as expected. she wanted to join in on the conversations, talk about what her teammates were talking about. but she couldn’t help but feel sorry for herself. she was still jet lagged, tired, nervous, and definitely missing you. she couldn’t even eat her food because she couldn’t focus on anything else but the image of you. memories of your relationship flooded her mind as she messed with the food on her plate, all she wanted was to go back home.

not able to stand it anymore, she made some excuse about being sick so she could leave. she packed up the leftovers to bring back to her hotel room and bid everyone a good night. her time would be much better spent texting or calling you than feeling sorry for herself at the table.

finally, she made it back to her room. without a second thought she was changing her clothes and crawling into bed, pulling out her phone and pulling up your contact. she had no hesitation in clicking on the ‘facetime’ button.

the phone rang several times, making her worried that you had already gone to bed for the night. but, on the 4th ring, the call went through and your face appeared on the screen. it was a gorgeous sight, she thought, seeing you there. you had taken off your makeup already, pulled your hair back, and tucked yourself into your shared bed. oh how she longed to be in that bed right now. you had instantly smiled when you saw kate’s face, making her heart ache for you.

“hi baby!” you chimed.

and that’s all she needed to hear. all of her worries, doubts, all of her anxiety was out the window now. she had just wanted an ounce of your attention all day, and at last, she could relax finally having it.

There's nothin' sweeter than my baby

I'd never want once from the cherry tree

“what did you say?” kate whispered, so shocked that she could hardly speak.

tonight was not a usual one. you had come home upset and stressed out, the past few days you’d been struggling with your mental health. it wasn’t often that you had difficult days, but when you did, kate was at your side and ready to help you in whatever way you needed. but tonight you felt inconsolable.

with kate becoming more popular in the media with her upcoming career, there had been a lot of press coverage. you actually hadn’t had an issue with it, you were thrilled for her to see that she was getting so much attention. but with the praise and positivity online also came the negative parts as well. you had seen a few articles and instagram posts concerning yours and kate’s relationship. seeing your name in bold headlines caught your attention. it was a bunch of nonsense, really, some random person online blabbering about nothing. they were clearly bothered by the fact that you and kate were very much in love, writing about how ‘kate could find someone much better’ or how she ‘should be with someone in her own league’. you tried to remind yourself of how foolish that was, kate loved you deeply and wouldn’t ever think of leaving you for someone else. but, with your history of self image issues and mental health, it was hard to believe it yourself.

“i said,” you were both sat on the couch, thighs barely touching. tears streamed down your face as you had your head turned away from kate. you had seen another one of those damned articles earlier and it seemed to be your breaking point, sending you into a fit of sorrow “i said i don’t know why you’re still with me”

the statement had caught her quite off guard. how could you possibly think such a thing? had kate done something? were you suddenly falling out of love? her heart was shattering as she sat there, desperately trying to figure out what had gotten you upset.

“baby,” her hand found its way to your cheek, gently guiding your head to turn back to her. your eyes were red and your lashes damp as you locked eyes with her “how could you say that? i love you more than anything in the world-i don’t understand”

“i just…i’ve been seeing all of those posts about us, kate” sobs racked your body and you hiccuped to try and catch your breathe “i see all the things they say about us and i can’t help but feel like you deserve more than me”

she had known about those posts for some time now, since she saw you inspecting one the other day. it broke her knowing you were indulging in all the ridiculous things people were saying about your relationship.

“hey hey hey” she wrapped an arm around you, forcing you to move closer to her “i don’t want anyone but you, got it? you have no idea how fucking in love with you i am”

a scoff fell from your lips briefly before you shook your head. you wanted to believe her, but your mind was so convinced otherwise “you’re just saying that”

“well allow me to enlighten you then?” she prodded, wiping the tears from under yours eyes. with reluctance, you nodded.

“i have never loved someone so much in my life” she began “i don’t even know where to start because there’s so much i love about you that it would take forever to say it all. i love the way you love me. how you take care of me all the time without me having to ask. how you make me breakfast in bed and how you brush my hair before we fall asleep. i love how you send me pictures of cute things you see in the store when you should really only be getting groceries. i love that you cry during movies even if it’s supposed to be happy because it shows how deeply you love things. and i love that you always think of people, even though that sometimes means you forget to take care of yourself. but i love that too, i love that i get to be the person that shows you how much love you deserve. that i get to sit here on nights like these and tell you how wonderful you are. because it’s true. honey, you are the best thing that has every happened to me and i’d be fucking crazy to let you go”

she let out a deep sigh, having lost her breath from her confession. if she had anymore air in her, she’d still be rambling on and on. the two of you stared at each other for a faint moment, her blue eyes gleaming back at you. your bottom lip quivered as another tear rolled down your cheek, although this time, it was a cry of joy.

“kate martin,” you muttered, almost speechless “i love you so so much”

she just chuckled softly and smiled at you. she guided you into a much needed hug, feeling your head tuck itself underneath her chin and your arms fall over her shoulders.

“i love you a thousand times more”

'Cause my baby's sweet as can be

She'd give me toothaches just from kissin' me

it was dark outside already, signifying the late hours of the night. you weren’t sure what time it was, definitely late enough that you should be asleep. but instead you and kate were both still up.

the orangey glow from your bedside lamp illuminated your bodies, creating silhouettes on the bedroom wall. kate was laid against the bed, back against the headboard and head tilted back. you were hovering over her as you straddled her waist with legs on either side of her figure. your head dipped down to her exposed neck, lips connecting lazily to her supple skin. eager hands roamed her shoulders and down the sides of her torso. her hands did the same, anxious to touch you wherever she could.

this was another instance in which kate unfortunately had to be away from home for an extended period of time. like every other time, she thought about returning home to you every second that she was gone. she hated not being able to touch you, to feel you, to know that you were right by her side. you had also been yearning for her arrival and hated her absence just as much. so when she was on her way home, she knew she would be having her way with you that night, no matter how late it might be. it may have been well into the early hours of this morning at this point, but the need to be with each other was a far greater need than sleep.

when she stepped foot in that house, she was already dropping her bags at the door and ridding of her shoes. sock clad feet marched quietly up the stairs as she began imagining kissing you for the first time in over a week. she pushed the door to your room open ever so gently, taking in your inviting presence. you had been fighting sleep, she could tell. your eyes peeking through low eyelids, hair messy from laying against the pillows, your lips turned in a sloppy smile. what a sight for sore eyes.

she was tempted to tell you to go to sleep, to get some rest that she knew you needed. but you were already sitting up and crawling over to her side of the bed where she now stood. one of her oversized tshirts hung loosely on your body, your lacey panties emerging from the bottom. before she had the chance to do so much as greet you, your hands were gripping her shirt and tugging her into you. soft lips molded into hers as you frantically kissed her. she took it as a sign that you needed her just as much as she needed you. so she let herself indulge, slithering into bed with you. articles of clothing were discarded to floor. your shirt thrown over your shoulder, kate’s sweatpants and top banished to a pile next to the bed.

now you were here, idly making out, taking each other in as much as possible. one might think you hadn’t seen one another in years by the way you both were acting. your bare chests were pressed together, creating arousing friction. kate’s fingers dug into the soft skin of your ass where her fingernails left small indents. she was breathing heavily and groaning as you left dark purple marks along her collarbone and the tops of her breasts, a reminder of your devotion. her hands pressed deeper into you, guiding your hips in a smooth rhythm of grinding against her lap. the room felt hot from the breathy moans and content sighs.

once you decided you were done marking the skin of kate’s chest, you made your way back to her lips. both of you were too tired to do anything other than this, just needing to be close to each other. not that you needed much else, having her lips on yours was enough to keep you satisfied. it was like your lips were meant for hers. they fit so perfectly together, moved against yours in the most delicious way.

kate let out another moan as she felt your lips grace hers. the sensation sent shivers through her veins. kissing you had to be the best feeling in the world to her. sometimes she felt sorry for the rest of the world, because what a sad life it would be to not know what it would be like to kiss you. and at the same time she felt so damn lucky that it was her, and only her, that got to know what this felt like.

When my time comes around

Lay me gently in the cold, dark earth

No grave can hold my body down…

“i hope you know that i’m absolutely head over heels for you,” she said next to you “you do know that, right?”

you hummed in response, nose scrunching as you looked at her. the amount of guests at your wedding must have been well into the one hundreds, but right here in this moment, it was just the two of you.

underneath a sky full stars was the makeshift dance floor of your wedding venue, marbled tiles beneath your feet. twinkling lights lit up the quaint garden of your backyard that you and kate both decided would be the perfect place to hold your reception. it was the middle of your first dance as a married couple and it was the most perfect moment of your life. your dress swayed behind you in the breeze, hair cascading around your face elegantly. kate looked even more beautiful than she normally did, if that was even possible. both of her hands rested on your waist and your arms looped around her neck as you danced across the floor slowly. your wedding playlist sounded in the distance and your families were watching you with teary eyes, but you and kate were only focused on each other.

“i do,” you replied “i hope you know that i’m also madly in love with you”

“i do” she had repeated like she did during her declaration of intent at the ceremony. you would never forget the look on her face when she’d said it for the first time “i’m never going to get tired of this”

“of what? our first dance?” you laughed, head falling back briefly “hate to break it to you, babe, but i think it’s gonna have to end at some point”

she laughed too, shaking her head. she pulled you in closer as her eyes wandered over the features of your face.

“no” she grinned “of looking at you”

your face was already turning a bright shade of pink, you could feel it as you smiled, but you didn’t mind one bit. you let your arms fall from around her neck as you heard the song of your dance come to an end.

your hands traveled up to take her face in your hands, something you have done often, a small action of your love. they directed her face to drop down to your level. you got onto the tips of your toes to meet her half way, kissing her passionately like your life depended on it. both of you smiled into the kiss, hearing everyone around you cheer as your dance concluded.

and, god, did it feel good to be loved like this.

…I'll crawl home to her

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

A/N: i feel like this started out so good, but then i kinda fucked it up at the end, but i hope you all like it !!

[harrysfolklore]

buzzcut - blurb

this kinda sucks but it was on my drafts sooo why not, hope you enjoy !

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

//

"I wonder how would I look with my head shaved." Harry randomly said one night both of you were cuddled up in bed.

"Where is that coming from, lovie?" You looked up at him, curious by his sudden statement.

"Dunno, I've never in my almost 30 years of age had a buzzcut," he shrugged, "I feel like It's part of manhood to shave your head at least once."

"Your manhood is just fine," you rolled your eyes with affection and pecked his chin, "But if you want to know how you'd look with no hair, you can always look for those AI pictures your fans have been making lately."

Harry laughed and kissed the crown of your head, leaving the conversation at that and focusing on the romantic comedy movie you picked for the night.

Days passed by and you soon forgot about your conversation and Harry didn't bring up his desire to shave his head again, so when he mentioned that he wanted to get a haircut you assumed that he was getting his usual trim.

Oh boy, were you wrong.

"I want to chop my hair a bit before we head to Vegas." He said a week before your trip, Jeff kept insisting that you needed to see the show he had been working on at the Sphere and you finally agreed.

"That's fine, just don't do anything extreme you know I love the curls." You replied, unaware of what he had up in his sleeve.

"Nothing to worry about, baby." You failed to notice the devilish smile on his face that gave away that he was planning something else.

The following day Harry told you that he was going to Ayae's place to get his haircut, which was weird to you because his hairdresser always came to your house to cut his hair, but you still didn't overthink it too much.

Until you got a text from her that read "Don't kill me or your boyfriend for what he made me do."

Just a minute after you got the text you heard the front door open and your name being called from downstairs.

"H are you home? Ayae texted me but I don't know what she means." You said as you made your way to him, he was standing in your living room, his hair being covered by the hood of his hoodie.

"I cut my hair," he said and a confused frown made its way to your face, "And I'm going to show it to you, but you need to promise me you won't freak."

"Why would I freak? Why are you acting so weird about it?"

Harry only smiled and pulled the hood from his head, revealing that his brand new buzzcut.

You stood in your place for a few minutes before reacting, "Is this some kind of joke?"

"It's not love! I shaved it," he got closer to you, a big smile on his face, “Do you like it?”

“Oh my god! Your hair is really gone! What the fuck, Harry.” You laughed in disbelief, grabbing his face to get a better look at him.

“I told you I wanted to give it a try before my twenties ended, remember?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think you’d actually do it,” you shook your head, “This is crazy! Does Jeff know? Forget about him does your mom know? Oh my god we need to facetime her right now.”

Harry laughed at your rant, “Jeff knows love, he wants to shave his too, and we’ll facetime mum later,” he pecked your lips quickly, “Now wipe that look off your face! You’re looking at me like I’m an alien!”

“This is just so weird, but also such a you thing to do,” you pecked his lips back, “Your fans are going to be absolutely nuts about this.”

“Lord, that’s what i’m dreading the most.”

A week later you and Harry were standing in the crowd of U2's concert at the Las Vegas Sphere, surrounded by friends and other concertgoers.

Somehow Harry's new look gave him a little more privacy, since the world didn't know that his signature brown curls were gone and he could go unnoticed sometimes.

"You've been busted." You said as you noticed a phone camera filming the both of you, Harry was standing behind you with his hand protectively gripping your neck.

"What, love?" He asked, making you discretely point at the person with the camera.

"Well, I guess the madness stars now."

A day later, pictures and videos of Harry's new haircut flooded the internet, making his fans go crazy once again.

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