#but i think one of the many reasons i just abandoned that fic is cause i couldn't leave aoi alone | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

remlionheart · 5 days ago

Text

Growing Pains

part three

♡ˎˊ˗ hiiii, welcome to the final installment of the fic that’s taken over my life for the last four months ♡ ̆̈ be sure to start here if you're new ♡ moving on from this story will be emotional i can’t lie, i've gotten way too invested in this but i'm very happy that i was able to see it through and hopefully do it justice. what started off as a small idea turned into something much bigger and i'm so thankful for all of the love and support you guys gave me. i love u all SO much, thanks for sticking with me on this ♡ biblically-cannon-megumi x fem!reader. slow burn. hurt / comfort. aged up characters. forced proximity. (light) enemies to lovers. eventual smut. this is what jjk could've been if fushiguro was the main character and gege would’ve been hugged as a child. lemme know whatcha think, luv u ♡ˎˊ˗

₊⊹♡ MDNI ₊⊹♡

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

You'd lied for him.

Despite absolutely everything– despite your better judgement, despite the sick, burning sense of anxiety that had taken over your mind and body, you'd still... covered for him. Giving Gojo vague and concise answers, fabricating lies to make Megumi's late-night disappearances seem less concerning than they actually were. Telling him that it'd just started happening instead of admitting that it'd actually been going on for nearly two months. Painting a soft, false picture that he was usually only ever gone for an hour at a time though there had been several nights he hadn't made it back until nearly 4 in the morning. Mending his worries with whatever reassuring words you could string together to make him loosen up on his questioning until he'd finally closed the door to your dorm, leaving you with a poignant– "If anything else happens, you come find me."

You weren't sure how you'd managed to hold it together so well, but the minute it was just you alone with your thoughts again, you found your hands trembling as you rushed over to his side of the room. Reminding yourself to breathe while you rummaged through his bookshelf and nightstand for any sort of explanation.

Going through his things felt wrong, but not going through them would've somehow felt worse. If you'd learned anything from your time spent with him, it was that Megumi Fushiguro was a lot of things, but deceitful without cause wasn't one of them. He wasn't the type to lie for no reason. He held his secrets unreasonably close to his chest but never out of malice. If he was hiding something, if he was lying to you, Gojo, Nobara, and Yuuji– arguably the only people he'd ever really let in, it wasn't because he wanted to.

His belongings were every bit as organized and well-guarded as he was though, hardly anything seeming suspicious or out of place no matter how many journals and textbooks you searched through. You were trying to be as meticulous as you could, doing your very best not to acknowledge the race against the clock you knew were up against or the ever-increasing weight that was sitting on your chest as you reached for the only book left– the one that you'd gifted him for his birthday.

You pushed past your body's consternation, carefully flipping through the pages when finally, a folded up loose-leaf piece of paper fell out of it, making your heart completely abandon any semblance of a steady rhythm.

It was a series of bullet-points mostly, jotted down information about reversed curse techniques and different types of healing abilities that didn't seem to go in any particular order. You were almost afraid that you'd hit another dead-end until your eyes landed on the bottom of the page. Your legs suddenly struggling to keep you upright as you trailed over his handwriting, all of the rigid pieces of the last few months gradually beginning to unravel and connect.

"Technique Name: 'Kokoro Kiri' - also known as Heart Severing," it read, "is a reversed curse technique developed to manipulate, distort, and erase memories by severing the spiritual and emotional connections tied within a person's mind. This technique utilizes cursed energy to fracture the target's emotional bonds to certain experiences and people, effectively making them unable to access specific memories."

The page nearly slipped from your grasp, your hand suddenly shaking beyond your control as you forced yourself to take a seat on the edge of his bed. Your breathing was alarmingly uneven, tears desperately trying to push their way out no matter how hard you fought to keep them at bay. As much as you wanted to lie to yourself– to naively choose to believe that all of this somehow wasn't directly related to you, you couldn't.

Reality had you backed into a corner with its steel grip locked firmly around your neck and there was no escaping it.

Your vision was blurry, the words almost bleeding together as you continued on to the last paragraph, "Memory Fragmentation– typically performed by a healer, is used to destroy emotional and cognitive connections attached to selected memories or selected people in the target's mind. In some extreme cases, a skilled enough user may even have the capability to erase large portions of their target's past or sever bonds between them and a specified individual. Unlike memory manipulation or distortion, this ability creates a void in the target's mind, leaving them with a permanent sense of disconnection from who or what was once there."

The oxygen had all but vanished from the room as you stared back at his words, a devastatingly cruel fate laid out in such pretty handwriting. It was hard to fathom, that the same hands that had touched you so gently– the ones that had played with your hair until you'd fallen asleep, the ones that had tangled into yours on the nights that neither one of you wanted to be alone were the same ones that had been carrying around the weight of this plan all along.

You knew him well enough to know that this wasn't something he'd just decided on– no, nothing Megumi ever did was half-thought-out or impulsive. He was unbearably analytical. Annoyingly thorough when it came to most things, but especially research. He'd never bother to waste his time on variables or flimsy possibilities. If he was going to do something, he had to be impossibly sure that it would work, which meant that this… this must've been a guarantee.

All of those moments of hesitation– both big and small. The layers of distance and formality. The harsh, venomous silence that he used to separate himself from you. They all finally made sense.

"Itadori. Kugisaki. Anyone else here that you meet, for that matter," he'd said, "they’re not your friends.”

The tears that streamed down your face were painful and completely unavoidable as you pulled your knees up to your chest, letting your head rest against your arm while his words continued to haunt you.

“You can’t avoid it forever." The way he'd said it had felt so cold and unwarranted at the time. "You’re gonna have to get used to loss and to keeping everyone you meet at a distance." But it'd never occurred to you until now just how necessary that conversation actually was.

It had been a warning, not for you, but for himself.

Your body was numb, mind completely overrun with questions that you weren't sure you even wanted answers to, and they just kept multiplying the longer you sat with it all.

You allowed yourself another minute to breathe before slowly unfolding your legs and using the sleeve of your hoodie to dry your cheeks. Letting your eyes drift over the page one last time as you carefully tucked it into his book again and got to your feet, wedging it back into the spot you'd taken it from.

Would he have told you? Or would you have woken up one day with a void in the place that he should've been, not even realizing that something was missing? How far did this go, exactly? If there were different degrees of memory fragmentation, where did his interest in using it begin and where did it end?

The only real thing that made sense to you was that this must've been some sort of loophole to negate his contract with Yaga. To either free you from Jujutsu Society as a whole or to break his tie to you. It was too late at this point though– after everything that had happened, you didn't want to go down either of those paths and the fact that he did, the fact that he had somehow come to terms with the entirety of this... it made you realize that maybe you'd never actually known him at all.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, abruptly pulling you back to reality as his name flashed across the screen: "No project tonight," it read, "it'll finally just be us."

You stared at the text, unable to even write back a simple reply with how hard it was to keep yourself standing upright and steady. Your thumbs hovered above the keys, almost typing, but never actually letting a full thought form before another blue bubble popped up from him: "I wish it could always just be us."

Tears were instantly pricking at the corners of your eyes again, your insides burning as your chest constricted. Precarious but determined fingertips spelling out the last bit of honesty that seemed to exist between the two of you–

"It could’ve been...”

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

He was frozen in place, the cold chill of the abandoned church that they'd been assigned to suddenly feeling like the very least haunting thing he was up against as he stashed his phone back into his pocket. Nothing had gone right since you'd dropped the three of them off. They'd been stuck in the same cathedral for hours and still hadn't found so much as a trace of cursed energy despite how small the area was.

Everyone was getting worn down and frustrated, but they didn't have the luxury of coming back empty-handed. His concern should've been on finding a solution, on checking the place over again to see if there was a hidden door or passageway that they'd somehow missed– something, anything that might lead them to the cursed object they were supposed to find. But instead, the only thought occupying his scattered, sleep-deprived mind was your use of the word "could've". The concise, intentional past-tense bite it had to it.

You were more similar to him than he'd care to admit, clumsy with your words at times and prone to rambling when nervous, but just like him, you never spoke out of turn. You were tactful. Soft-spoken, yet very deliberate when it came to expressing your feelings.

"Could've been" felt like a serrated knife because it was meant to. "Could've been" held the weight of a threat because it was one. "Could've been" implied that you knew something because–

"God, this is a pain in the ass," Kugisaki huffed, rolling a piece of rubble under her shoe as Fushiguro found himself actually pacing the longer he mulled over it. "We've looked damn near everywhere, there's nothing here!"

"Maybe Gojo gave us the wrong coordinates." Itadori shrugged, plopping himself down on one of the concrete pews as he stretched his arms behind his head.

Gojo.

Why did everything in his god-forsaken life have to lead back to Gojo?

You were the only two people at Jujutsu High with everyone else being out on missions– of course he'd tried to talk to you to see how things had been going. Gojo was constantly keeping tabs on him, always poking around to see how he was doing even when it was none of his concern. And you, being you– you'd probably been honest with him, not understanding how consequential your answers were.

The picture had become excruciatingly clear to him, what must've led up to that one single text from you. There was no wishful thinking left, no maybes or what-ifs that could possibly free him from this hell that you were both aware of now. Reality had him in the same chokehold it had you in, its grip just as merciless around his throat too– you knew and the only thing he could do was accept it.

He drew in a sharp breath, running a staggered hand over his face as his footsteps finally came to a pause. "We're withdrawing for now."

Kugisaki's eyes snapped up towards his, a blend of relief and confusion sweeping over her as she blinked back at him. "You sure?"

Fushiguro had never backed down from an assignment. Never tapped out no matter how long or grueling a mission was, but this was different. He could barely focus on anything, could barely keep himself present and coherent let alone concentrate on piecing together the layout of this abandoned building.

He needed to talk to you. Needed to get back to his room as soon as he could. It was the first time in his life that his emotions had managed to overrule his logic. Whatever was here clearly wasn't as threatening as it was thought to be– it could wait, you couldn't.

He pulled his phone from his pocket, shooting you a text to let you know that they were ready as he motioned for Itadori and Kugisaki to follow him.

"We'll come back tomorrow," he reasoned, trying to sound more sure of himself than he actually was, "we can talk to Gojo about it in the morning and reconvene when we have more information, but there's no sense in staying here all night."

He knew neither of them would fight him on the decision, they'd both been practically half-way out the door before he'd even said anything anyway.

He stuffed his hands into his jacket, a sobering gust of late-winter air swirling around him as they stepped outside and started heading towards the cafe that you'd dropped them off at earlier.

Nervousness wasn't a feeling he knew well, but it had become a deep, painful pit in the center of his stomach the closer they got to you. There was so much he had to explain, so many agonizing words that he had to somehow make seem acceptable even though they were anything but.

He hesitated as he reached for the car door, his eyes meeting yours with all the caution in the world before he finally settled into the passenger's seat and gently reached over to rest the palm of his hand on your thigh, almost flinching at the idea of you pushing him away. It was hard to process that you'd somehow become both the cause and the remedy to his distress.

Your voice was even, your composure seemingly in-tact, but the way you looked at him... your glossy, defeated stare told a completely different story than the nonchalant facade you were putting on for your friends.

The ride back was unnervingly calm– you, Itadori, and Kugisaki all chatting back and forth, the volume of the radio getting turned up and down every few minutes depending on the song, Kugisaki's laughter echoing from the backseat at something Itadori had said. He found his grip tightening around your leg in a feeble attempt to stop his racing thoughts while his head rested against the window when the warmth of your hand landed on top of his. Your eyes subtly drifting over to him with more reassurance than he deserved.

His heart was lodged in his throat by the time you pulled into the parking lot, each step feeling more damning than the last as you made your way to the dorms until you'd finally reached the end of the hall. You both waved and said your goodnights to Itadori and Kugisaki before you dug your key out of your hoodie and opened the door, leaving him alone with you and the truths he couldn't possibly say.

It was quiet, the tension in the room absolutely suffocating as you stripped out of your coats and put your uniforms away, dodging glances from each other while changing into your usual sleepwear. He took a seat on the side of his bed, his pulse ringing through his ears as he watched you put your hair up in the mirror.

He could see your apprehension– the internal debate of whether to say something or stay silent. The indecision of retreating back to your bed or his. It was in every movement you made, every small detail of your mannerisms plagued with a sense of uncertainty that made him ache.

He swallowed hard as he reached his hand out to you, "Can you–" He cleared his throat, watching you slowly turn to face him. "Can you come here?"

The same hurt he was feeling was reflected in your gaze, your breathing coming to a visible stop as you struggled to look back at him.

"Please?"

His voice was barely a whisper, wavering and broken but still strong enough to pull you in.

You turned off the light before taking his hand, letting his arms wrap around you as you burrowed yourself into his chest. The familiar scent of him settling your nerves while his lips pressed against the top of your head and his fingertips began drawing soft, hazy patterns along your shoulder. The two of you welcoming the calm silence that followed as you sank further into the safety of one another.

Growing up, you'd never really known if home was supposed to be a place or a feeling. You'd lost it so many years ago, you figured there wasn't much sense in giving significance to a word that didn't belong in your vocabulary anymore anyway, but finally being with him after the day that you'd both had... You quickly realized that maybe it still did exist after all– not as a place or a feeling, but as both. It was here, right inside the small space between you. It was this, the sound of his heart beating steadily against your temple.

It was him and there was going to come a day where you'd wake up without the privilege of even being able to remember the beauty of what you'd lost.

Your chest heaved against your will, tears soaking his shirt as they spilled down your cheeks, the weight of it all becoming far too crippling to bear. Your arms locked around his waist desperately. Hopeless, childlike thoughts suddenly soaring through your mind like– maybe if you held onto him tight enough, you could somehow stay here forever, maybe if you could find the right things to say then time wouldn't have to carry on.

His grasp mirrored yours, holding you as steady as he could while letting out soft little nothings that all bled together, “Shh, it's okay. I've got you." and "Please breathe, I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

He was dangerously close to his own breaking point too though, the only thing holding him together was the need to be strong for you. His resolve was crumbling, every wall he'd ever built absolutely annihilated by the feeling of your nails digging into his sides as you clung onto him like he was the most important thing in the world.

"I don't–want–" you shook your head at the thought, your words choppy and almost impossible to get out. "I don't... want to– leave you."

He let out a semblance of an exhale, fighting to keep his hands from shaking as he guided you down onto the bed with him so that you were both laying down with his arms still wrapped around you and your head back on his chest.

The way you trembled against him as he ran his fingers through your hair was the exact reason why he'd kept all of this hidden in the first place– the same reason why he'd tried so hard to keep his distance from you. This pain would've always been inevitable for him, but it shouldn't have been for you.

He continued to brush away your tears, more reassuring whispers spilling out every so often until your body finally started to relax. Your breathing gradually coming back down to a normal pace while his thumb traced along your neck.

"If it were up to me," he swallowed, forcing his vision to stay pointed up at the ceiling. "Things would be different."

You lifted your head slightly, your eyes roaming over his face as your fingers absentmindedly tangled into the collar of his shirt.

"You'd stay here with me. We'd graduate together." He rested a hand over his forehead to keep himself distracted from the weight of your stare, knowing it was the only way he could the next part out. "But, that's not how this place works– things are rarely good and when they are, they don't last long. There's... a lot– so much you don't know about the contract that's keeping you here."

Your lips parted, but no words came out, your shoulders suddenly stiff again as you watched him.

"I haven’t been protecting you because Yaga told me to or because Gojo told me to or even because it was my assignment to... I’ve been protecting you because it's what I promised myself I would do."

It was like looking into a storm over the ocean when his eyes met yours again, graveness mixed guilt. "I need you to listen to me, okay? Really listen to me. This doesn't leave this room. This doesn't leave us."

You gave him a slow nod, chills splintering down your spine as he cupped your face with his hand.

"Yaga's original plan to have you executed didn't necessarily end just because I intervened. All I was able to do was postpone it and have the responsibility of who would carry it out be... transferred."

The air had officially been stolen from your lungs.

"My job? My actual mission when it comes to you? Is to monitor you. To watch you. To see if you'll have any lingering effects after coming into contact with Sukuna's finger as a non-sorcerer. You might as well be a science experiment to Yaga and the other higher-ups.” The disgust in his voice was thick, heavy. “I'm supposed to be the one to make sure nothing goes wrong while you're here. I'm contracted to keep close tabs on you to ensure that if Sukuna takes over Yuuji's body to try and coax information out of you, you aren't able to give it to him..."

It was the first time you'd seen his emotions evolve past his usual irritability or stoicism. He'd finally reached the core of it. The root of all of the negativity that he had bottled up inside of him for so long. It wasn't something as simple as anger or resentment– no, it was... grief that he’d been facing.

"The agreement was never for me to keep you safe, it was for me... to kill you if you became too much of a liability." He could barely look at you, his jaw clenched, the room blurred by tears he wasn't prepared to shed.

"That's why– I leave every night... I got Shoko to tip me off to a healer on the outskirts of Tokyo and we've been... going over different techniques... I've been burying myself in research, trying to figure out–" He paused, more violent waves of shame crashing over him as his thumb continued to lightly trace your jawline. "Trying to figure out the least invasive way to go about this because I– don't want it to... hurt. I want you to be able to keep as many memories as you can. I... want it to be... quick and painless. I– just want you to be... safe. Safe and out of here. That's all I care about."

You were crying again, but this time for both of you, for every single dismal decision that had been made and led to this.

You almost felt selfish for your own feelings, finally seeing the full scope of his. He'd saved you– again and again. And even after managing to find a way to do it one last time, he was still on the losing side of it. He would always be bound to the knowledge of what he'd done to you no matter how much time passed. You'd go on to not remember him, but oh god, would he remember you.

He'd been mourning you since the day you arrived and it'd only been getting worse with each day that he woke up with your body pressed against his. Even when he fought to find solutions, they still came with such a steep price that they ended up feeling like losses in disguise.

Neither side of this was fair. You'd be a late-night what-if that haunted him for the rest of his life and he'd be that place between sleep and awake for you. That confusing, gut-wrenching feeling of waking up and missing someone so immensely only to question if they'd ever really existed or not.

Both of your fates were equally cruel in vastly different ways, but realizing the selflessness behind his plan made something inside of you break. Everything he'd done, all of it, had always been for... you.

His hands were firm and secure against the sides of your face as he guided you up to him, looking back at you with all of the strength he had left.

"You've gotta trust me, okay?" Even through your own tears, you could still seehis too. Just barely pricking at the corners of his eyes as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear like he'd done so many times before only none of it felt the way it should've. "I'll get you out of here. I won't let anything happen to you. But I need you to promise you won't fight me on this because.... it's the only way... we have to be in this together. Please."

Your breathing was staggered, your mind completely overwhelmed by promises you couldn't possibly make but had to. Feelings you absolutely couldn't lose but had to.

"What happens to you?" You faltered. "After all of this is said and done– where will it leave you?"

You couldn't help but think that the somber smile that cut across his face was one of the prettiest and most devasting things you'd ever get to see in your life.

"Doesn't really matter..." he whispered, featherlight touches still trailing across your skin. "I get to know that you're okay and that's enough."

His grip tightened around you, delicately pulling you closer to him until his mouth was grazing yours. "Promise me."

You wouldn't– you wouldn't do this for anyone else in the entire fucking world, and yet, you'd do it... for him. Your voice was shattered, barely audible as you finally agreed.

"Promise."

He rested his forehead rested against yours, taking a moment to soak you in. To share the same space as you. To hold you and know that he didn't have to let go just yet.

"You know, I used to watch you too." he said, lips softly pressing into yours as more tears spilled down your cheeks. "Across from the courtyard– you sat in the very back corner with a book in your hand. I always liked that about you."

You shook your head in disbelief with a half-hearted smile as he kissed you, again and again, more easy little confessions from him slipping out between breaths. Quietly reminiscing while he played with your hair, easing the room back into its usual calm state before he reached for the comforter and wrapped it around the two of you, letting your head nuzzle into the crook of his neck.

He watched you intently as you slowly began to drift off, your words tapering down to incoherent little hums while your body tangled further into his. Exhaustion finally stealing you away. He laid as still as he could, memorizing the ceiling pattern while the sound of your breathing mixed with the snow tapping against the window. The warmth of your skin perfectly contrasting the frigid temperatures outside.

Maybe Gojo had been right after all– because from where he was laying, he really couldn’t imagine any curse or nightmare or hell that was scarier than what he was feeling right now.

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

The next day was a blur.

Ijichi returned back to class– but you didn't, refusing to leave the comfort of Megumi's bed. As much as you both needed to keep up appearances to avoid any more suspicion being tossed his way from the higher-ups, he still didn't fight you when you told him you weren't going. "I just..." you'd hesitated, your body not at all ready to untangle itself from the faux safety of his sheets. "I think I need a day to..."

"I get it." His eyes were just as exhausted and heavy as yours, but he'd still tucked you in anyway, gently wrapping his blanket around your shoulders as his stare lingered over you for a moment. "Don't worry about Ijichi," he said, "I'll tell him you're not coming. Shouldn't be a big deal. Just... try and get some rest."

You'd nodded, a seed of guilt settling into the pit of your stomach for not being able to pull yourself together when you knew he didn't have any other choice. He didn't fault you for it though– instead, he'd kissed the side of your cheek, whispering a soft but impossible, "It's gonna be alright." before smoothing down the collar of his uniform and heading out the door.

All of the progress that you'd made over the last six months– all of the painfully naïve optimism that you'd been clinging onto about finding purpose and normalcy suddenly felt so hollow, cruel almost. If Megumi's plan played out the way it was supposed to, it meant that you had approximately 9 days left until your mind would be permanently altered in ways that you couldn't even begin to let yourself try and comprehend.

You'd decided that you'd return back to class tomorrow– you'd take your meaningless little quizzes on probability and ratios and listen to Ijichi's lectures and do your very best to pretend that it didn't feel like your insides were catching fire with each passing minute. You'd put your best fake smile forward and go through the motions no matter how much of a slow death it felt like, because that's what you promised Megumi you'd do. But until tomorrow came, you weren't leaving his bed for anything.

You drew in a sharp breath, willing to time to stop, even if just for a second as you attempted to declutter your thoughts. Maybe it was a coping mechanism or maybe it was because you were all too aware of the fact that soon, they'd no longer be there, but you couldn't stop yourself from sifting through old memories. Digging through the recesses of your mind like it was an old attic, letting nostalgia crash over you so hard you were almost afraid you wouldn't be able to find your way back to the present.

It started off slow, little snippets and fragments of mid-July air and the sound of your childhood best friend's laughter. Easy things like swing sets and waking up to the smell of fresh-baked bread at your grandma's house, but then you really started to remember the details. The duality and nuances of that house...

You rolled over as you rested your head in your hand, a painful static rippling through your mind.

You'd had to start over so many times in life– from the unexpected death of your parents when you were a kid, to moving into your grandma's house the summer before middle school after she'd gained full custody of you... She'd always been so kind and gentle but also feeble with a slew of health issues surrounding her. You'd been terrified when you'd lost her freshmen year, completely unsure of what your fate would be. You'd managed to avoid foster care though, quietly living in her house alone since it was already paid off. Keeping the utilities and yourself afloat with the small bank account she'd left you with.

"Come by my place after school," you'd never forget how relieved you were when he'd offered his house for that project instead of asking about yours.

Your life had been uprooted more times than you could count, everyone you'd ever loved ended up being torn away from you in the most unexpected and unfair ways imaginable... But even with everything that you'd faced, there was still nothing that could've prepared you for what happened at that party.

Your best friend who went with you... the way she held your hand while the two of you browsed through thrift stores and laughed together. She was the only one back then who really knew your situation...

"Fifteen fatalities have been reported so far, but we're still keeping an eye on it." She was your immediate first thought, yet another part of yourself that you'd lost only this time, it had been your fault. "Usually when something like this happens, the numbers climb more often than they fall."

Your fingers tangled into Megumi's blanket, the smell of him swirling around you as tears streamed down your face. While he may have carried the weight of it differently than you did, he wasn't the only one who had been forced to deal with loss. It'd been a haunting and viciously persistent theme in your life too, one that you were painfully tired of having to accept.

Your head was throbbing, your eyes closing to try and block out the rest of it when a knock at the door forced you back into the room.

"It's me!" Yuuji called out, his voice just as familiar and comforting as it always had been. "Promise I'll be in and out, I just wanted to drop off some curry for you."

You swallowed hard before rubbing a hand over your face to steady yourself. You didn't need a mirror to tell you that you looked like hell, but you still stole a quick glance at yourself anyway as you made your way to the door, cringing at the distraught reflection that stared back at you.

"Sorry to drag you out of bed when you're sick but Fushiguro said that..." The way his face fell as his eyes trailed over you made your stomach drop. "What happened...?"

You shook your head, offering him the most sincere smile you could manage. "Just... a really bad migraine." You shrugged, taking the bag of food from him. "I've been trying to sleep it off, I'll be alright."

You knew he didn't believe you.

“A migraine?”

"Yeah, they come out of nowhere sometimes." You nodded, a tidal wave of guilt washing over you for so blatantly lying to him. “I should be okay by tomorrow. It's really not a big deal."

"Right..." He hesitated, doing his best to map out his words. “Well, you know that if you’re not okay tomorrow… or the day after that… you can talk to me, right?”

The only thing you could do was nod again, the lump in your throat threatening to break as you fought the overwhelming urge to grab his wrist and ask him to sit with you. To tell him how much you were going to miss him. To tell him how much he and Nobara meant to you. To tell him that even if you didn't remember them, they'd always be a part of your heart... But you couldn't, you couldn't say hardly anything between the weight of his concern and Megumi's secret.

He waited another few seconds, his apprehension to leave you alone palpable. But when you didn't say anything else, he finally took a step back. “Just... get to feeling better, okay?"

You nodded again, your voice catching as you said, “I will."

He shot you a faint smile and you did your best to return it before he disappeared back down the hall towards the sound of Nobara's voice. "She okay?" You heard her ask as you closed the door.

Everything in your life had always been fleeting and temporary but knowing that they were too was a level of a pain that you weren't ready to face. Your hands shook as you set the bag of curry down on the nightstand and fell back into Megumi's bed, curling into yourself as a sob racked through your body without warning.

You'd experienced more grief than you could ever put into words, and still, nothing had ever hurt quite like this.

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

Megumi's footsteps were light when he returned, his movements cautious as he approached you, glancing over at the untouched food by his bed.

He ran a gentle hand along your back, trying his best to keep you comfortable despite the selfish part of him that wanted to wake you up and bury his head into your chest after a long day.

You shifted, your hand instinctively reaching out for his as your eyes started to open, your surroundings still a blur. It was later than you'd anticipated it being, the moon just barely lighting up his side of the room.

"You should eat," he said quietly, his thumb rubbing patterns into the inside of your palm.

"I know." You winced, your stomach burning at the thought. "I just... can't right now."

A blend of understanding and worry flickered through his stare as he pressed a light kiss onto the top of your hand. It wasn't like he'd necessarily been taking the best care of himself either the last few weeks.

He kicked off his shoes, stripping down into a t-shirt and boxers before laying down with you, the warmth of your body settling over him in a way he didn't realize he needed until he had it again.

A small smile crept across your face as he nestled into you, his tired arms wrapping around your waist while your fingers threaded through his hair, your nails just barely grazing his scalp. His legs were cold against yours, the sobering smell of winter air and pine filling the space between you.

You stared up at the ceiling, focusing on the sound of his breathing as it gradually began to sync with yours. It was rare that he clung to you like this, but it never failed to make you feel safe, like the rest of the world couldn't touch you as long as he was near you.

The thought was soft when it first entered your mind, deceptively dreamy and trancelike with the way it had flowed in so easily. It was warmth, comfort, and... panic.

Your pulse quickened as the sentence echoed through your mind again, louder this time. Three words that you couldn’t possibly let yourself hold onto. Three words that represented everything you were losing. The feeling shifted from something gentle and manageable to sharp and serrated as it started to press against your ribs, demanding space you couldn’t afford to give it. Your fingers stilled in his hair, another rush of static and tears suddenly clouding your vision.

“Hey.”

His voice was low and steady as it cut through the haze, his hand brushing against your side. He propped himself up, tentatively hovering above you while his eyes searched yours. He could feel your heart racing, the way it was practically trying to beat through your chest.

"Breathe for me, okay?" He reached for your hand, but you could barely register it, a haze of anxiety replacing reality as your surroundings began to blur together.

You grabbed the side of your head, desperately closing your eyes to try and escape it, but the static in your mind only continued to spread. The room faded in and out, the edges of his face blurring together as the panic attack swept over you with vengeance. All of the things you wanted to say but couldn't. All of the feelings that you'd tried to bury but couldn't– they were all right there, right at the forefront of the storm.

Your fingers tangled into the fabric of Megumi's shirt, his face just inches apart from yours. He was still talking, still trying to keep you steady, but it wasn't working. There was a deafening ringing in your ears. A sea of scattered thoughts and displaced emotions crashing down around you. And then–

Nothing.

The static had somehow lifted, the suffocating wave of fear dying down. Your panic gradually replaced by what felt like an impossible stillness as he continued to hold you.

"Hey," the franticness in his voice was something you'd never heard before. "Look at me. Please, just–"

Your eyes fluttered open slowly, your vision clearing as you let the hand that you had pressed to your forehead fall back down to your side.

The relief he felt was fleeting, quickly replaced by something else entirely as you froze again, your gaze locking onto something over his shoulder.

You thought they were shadows at first– the type of looming figures that you'd see out of the corner of your eye when you'd been up for too long. The ones that would disappear with a simple blink, but the two sets of glowing eyes staring back at you were only becoming more and more visible the longer you looked at them.

Your head tilted slightly, taking in the mix of black and white fur, the matching red markings that decorated their foreheads before the smaller one took a step towards you, its movements gentle but seemingly protective as it laid beside you at the edge of the bed.

Megumi shifted, his shoulders visibly stiffening as he watched your reaction– the way your eyes carefully drifted over the Shikigami next to you. He drew in a sharp breath, keeping his tone as even as he could despite his own fears rising, realizing what this meant.

“You can see them... can’t you?”

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

The sun had just started to creep in through the blinds, but Megumi hadn't slept at all. He laid with his eyes closed and his mind racing for the better part of the night, tracing delicate patterns along your skin any time you'd start to stir.

"It's more common than you'd think," Gojo said as they walked across the training field, the August sun beating down on both of them. "Negativity takes on all kinds of different forms, it's not always as black and white as we make it out to be."

Megumi had shoved his hands in his pockets, eyes pointed down at the track as they made their way past two first-years struggling to land a hit on each other. "But if curses only become visible when someone's on the brink of death, then why –"

"That's not the only time it happens." Gojo interjected, "There are exceptions, just like anything else. All it takes is for enough grief and despair to hit someone at just the right frequency and..." He snapped his fingers, pulling Megumi's attention towards him again. "A non-sorcerer would be able to start seeing things they shouldn't– curses, residuals, it would all become visible to them."

Megumi's pace slowed, his brows furrowing the longer he thought about it. "And you think that's what happened to him?" He finally asked, "You think he just... spiraled so hard that he stumbled into this world by accident?"

"More or less." Gojo rolled his shoulders with a sigh. "Look, Junpei was a perfect example of what can happen when all the wrongs things line up exactly at the right time. All that bullying, that isolation, losing his mom– his entire life was one long string of pain and anger. That much negativity? It doesn’t usually just sit quietly. It festers. And in his case, it built up to the point where it broke through the usual barriers."

Megumi paused, trying but failing to block out how hard Yuuji had taken his death over the last month. "And cases like him– exceptions like Junpei are... common?"

Gojo's smirk faltered, his hand resting easily on Megumi's shoulder as he bent slightly to meet his gaze. "All I'm saying is that they're not unheard of. Even the strongest people have their limits."

The memory had replayed itself so many times he could barely distinguish the present from nostalgia by the time you woke up next to him. He'd known that he was on borrowed time from the moment you'd arrived, but now... even that was gone.

His grip on you was light but firm as you started to stretch your legs, your eyes barely having the chance to open before your own thoughts began to spiral. No matter how much he tried to keep you calm, the demon dogs staring back at you were a solid reminder of where the two of you stood.

"We have to go... tonight, don't we?"

The silence that followed made your chest tighten, your hand shaking as your fingertips dug into the side of his arm. You drew in a breath before nodding in defeat, sparing him from having to be the one to say it.

You knew the second it had happened that this was what was coming, but there was still something so unexplainably damning about how it felt settling over the two of you. This was the last morning you’d wake up beside him. The last time you’d get to see him like this– soft and unguarded in ways no one else would ever know.

Your lips parted with those three words still desperately clinging to the tip of your tongue, but you managed to swallow them down, refusing to make things worse than they already were. It was the second time in only a few short minutes that you'd been the one to spare him.

His hand caught yours, your quiet acceptance hitting you both in steady but unrelenting waves as you laid together, your feelings embedded into every touch and every movement you made. It was tangible, absolutely everywhere in the space between you, and maybe… that was enough.

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

The hours went by like minutes, a heavy sense of finality and dread clinging onto even the most mundane things– from the way it felt to help Megumi with the buttons on his uniform while the two of you got ready together to the car ride where you'd had to take him, Yuuji, and Nobara back to the same church that they'd failed their previous mission at. It was all painfully familiar and foreign at once.

You were digging mental graves for friends that were still very much alive. Glancing over at Yuuji with a small smile as he leaned up to the front of the car to make sure you were actually feeling better. Knowing that this was your last day with him and having to push down the grief of not being able to give him or Nobara a proper goodbye. Kissing Megumi– really kissing him before you left and trying not to break down at the way his eyes lingered on you as you drove off. Every interaction you had was somehow more futile than the last and yet, you had no choice but to endure it.

By the time you reached Ijichi, you were more than ready to take a seat and tune out the rest of the world with one of his infamously dry lectures, but even his monotone voice and horrible puns were finding ways to tug at your heartstrings. Your mind wandered back to your first week with him– how welcome he'd made you feel without even meaning to. His classroom had always felt like more of a reprieve than a punishment, a quiet comfort amongst the chaos.

You shook your head, fighting past the tears that were threatening to spill over as you busied yourself with one of the ratio equations he had on the whiteboard when you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. You swallowed hard, watching his name flash across screen before getting up and promptly making your way out into the hall.

He'd never called on you while on a mission.

"Hey," you exhaled, "is everything–"

"We found a special grade curse." He said breathlessly, "Nobara– she's alright, but I need you to come get her and take her back to Shoko."

The phone nearly slipped from your hand, the loud, piercing background noise coupled with Yuuji's panicked, 'Fushiguro!' made your heart feel like it was going to stop altogether.

You looked back at Ijichi from over your shoulder as Megumi continued talking, giving you instructions on what to do when you got there, but your focus was suddenly everywhere else.

"Gojo..." You hesitated, "Do you want me to bring him? Just in case–"

"No," his voice was sharp, leaving little room for protest. "No, Itadori and I can handle it, I just need you to come get her, okay?"

You hated the knot that had formed in your stomach, the nervousness that danced through your veins as you reluctantly agreed, telling him you'd be there as soon as you could.

When working as an assistant, sorcerers are always to take top priority regardless of the situation, it was one of the first lessons he'd gone over with you, though neither one of you had any way of knowing at the time that you'd one day be using it against him...

You zipped up your coat, shaking away the thought as you headed down the faculty stairs and dug your set of keys out of your pocket. You didn't have time for remorse– not now, and not when the lies you’d told would be forgotten by the end of the night anyway.

The cold air nipped at your face, snow still blowing haphazardly across the parking lot as you climbed into the driver's seat, overwhelmed and completely unaware of the set of eyes that had been following you since you'd left Ijichi's classroom.

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

The drive there was a blur, your mind flooding with nothing but worse-case scenarios and scattered images of Nobara laughing and holding your hand as the two of you walked down the hallway together.

Knowing that she was hurt... knowing that she needed a healer while also not knowing the extent of her injuries amidst the stress of everything else you were already facing had your foot heavy on the gas pedal, your car slightly shaking from the gravel road you were on.

The city lights had vanished a few miles back, the grey overcast not helping your case as you struggled to make out buildings in the late January haze of snow and poorly marked country roads. You weren't sure if it was relief or more dread that swirled through your stomach when your GPS started to chime, but it was too late to let yourself indulge in either.

Your throat tightened when you finally spotted it– an old worn-down cathedral in the middle of a seemingly empty field, surrounded by fresh debris and rubble that only made your anxiety swell. It was the first time you'd ever been to actual pick-up spot. The first time you'd been exposed to the things that Megumi had tried so hard to keep you sheltered from.

You peered through the icy windshield, searching but failing to find any sign of her. "She'll be out front waiting for you when you get here so just stay in the car." He'd said, "She'll come to you, okay?" Even after you'd agreed though, he still repeated it back with an unnerving amount of conviction laced into his words. "Promise me– you won't get out of the car."

Your hands trembled as you pulled out your phone and began dialing his number, squeezing your eyes shut to try and block out just how wrong all of this felt. Each unanswered ring seemed to drag by slower than the last, your pulse thrumming through your ears by the time his voicemail echoed through the receiver.

You'd done everything that he'd asked and so much more. You'd kept his secrets. You'd protected him. You'd lied for him. You'd cared for him in more ways than you could ever bring yourself to say aloud. But this was one promise you were quickly realizing you wouldn't be able to keep as you watched a familiar thick, black smog seep out through the cracks in the boarded-up windows of the church. Another powerful thud reverberating with such intensity that it shook the ground beneath you.

"I'm sorry." You whispered, though you weren't sure if you were saying it to him or yourself as you reached for the door handle.

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

Your breathing came to a halt the moment that your feet hit the ground. The air was impossibly dense, contaminated with a thick layer of smoke that seemed to tangle around your limbs the closer you got to the entrance.

You could practically hear Megumi's voice screaming at you to turn around, but you forced yourself to push past it as you approached the edge of the broken stone staircase, redirecting your focus on where and where not to step.

The entryway was completely shattered, the heavy wooden doors splintered and hanging off of their hinges. You held your breath as you squeezed your way through a small opening, doing everything you could to keep yourself steady despite the trail of fog that seemed to follow you.

Your pace was meticulous, each movement calculated while you navigated your way through the wreckage. It wasn't until you saw the faint waves of light flashing through the darkness that you froze. Your eyes snapped towards the back of the church, watching in quiet horror as the unmistakable hum of cursed energy exploded across the room in bursts.

You were stuck somewhere between fight or flight– your legs carrying you with agility you didn't even know you had as you broke into a sprint. You ducked, taking cover behind one of the destroyed pillars, just narrowly dodging a support beam that came crashing down when a hand suddenly reached out for you.

"'The hell were you thinking–" she coughed, her voice still maintaining its usual firmness despite how feeble it was. "You know you shouldn't be here."

"Nobara," you breathed, your hand cupped her face to wipe away the red rolling down her cheek. Her body was lax, slumped against the remains of a wooden pew with blood dripping from her hairline down to her chin.

Your insides felt like they were on fire, adrenaline flooding your system quicker than you could keep up with as you scanned the area for the most manageable way out before looking back at her. "I'm not leaving you here." You promised, your body acting faster than your brain as you reached for her arm and slung it over your shoulder.

"Are you insane? You can't just–"

"You'd do it for me, wouldn't you?" The question was sharp enough to slice through the tension, time seeming to stop even if only for a second when her eyes met yours.

"Of course I would." She conceded, slowly lifting herself up as she leaned on you for support. "Megumi's gonna... kill you though."

It was one of the first time you'd really smiled in the last three days. "I think I'll be alright."

The calm was momentary though, another amethyst-colored beam tearing through the air. "Hold onto me." You said, tightening your grip around her waist.

Shattered stone cascaded around the two of you, your breath catching in your throat as the cursed energy spiked again, sharper and heavier than before. It almost felt alive with way it twisted around your legs– that same fear, that same dread from the night Megumi had saved you creeping over you once more. The burning sensation seeped into your pores the higher up it climbed, rooting itself into your chest.

Your movements were strained, each step forward nearly knocking the wind out of you as you shielded Nobara from more falling debris, both of you crouching behind an abandoned altar.

The entrance was just within your reach if you could manage to keep yourself upright and steady, the light from the outside barely grazing the edge of the corridor. Right as you shifted your weight to stand though– a low, guttural growl reverberated across the floor sending another wave what felt like rogue electricity beneath your skin.

"Fuck," you hissed, your vision becoming blurry as you fought to keep your focus.

"Leave me here," Nobara insisted, trying but failing to shake you off of her. "Look, Yuuji's right over there, he can grab me when he–"

But her demands came to an abrupt end as the two of you became frozen in place, the curse emerging from the shadows to reveal a series of vine-like limbs and skin that resembled ancient bark. The size of it alone was enough to make your heart forget how to beat, but the second its eyes landed on you, the earth seemed to still entirely.

"What the–" Megumi's voice broke through the chaos, the weight of his stare crippling when he spotted you from across the room, his frustration and concern palpable even from where he was standing.

"Go!" He shouted, another Shikigami already forming in front of him.

The figure tilted its head as if it were studying you, the pressure of its gaze pinning you to the floor. It wasn’t just fear this time– it was something deeper, almost primal that wrapped around your spine and pulled tight as the taunting hum of its cursed energy crackled into the space between you. Its floral patterns glowing faintly in the dim light with its vines curling and writhing carefully towards you.

“Why do you fight so hard to protect something so fleeting?”

“Kugisaki!” Megumi stiffened, his hands stretched out in front of him like weapon as Nuu lunged toward the curse, but he wasn't even able make it halfway to you before a branch-like limb sprawled out and slammed the demon dog into the ground with a force that shook the foundation of the already crumbling building.

Your head felt like it was going to explode, your thoughts and emotions bleeding into each other all at once as its question repeated on an unwanted loop.

Fleeting.

“Listen to me!” Nobara’s voice suddenly felt distant, blurred by an odd sense of clarity that had started to wash over you. “Leave me here. You have to go!”

It was right– your life had been made up of nothing more than fleeting contentment and memories that weren't made to last. The things that you were trying so hard to fight for would be gone by tomorrow, just like everything else, but they were here now and so were you. If this had to be your last day with them– if losing Megumi, Yuuji, and Nobara was truly inevitable no matter what choice you made, then you'd do everything you could to protect them.

“No,” you said, the word falling from your lips before you even realized it. “I told you I’m not leaving you.”

The curse moved again, swift but intentional, closing the distance between you while its vines began to thrash, leaving more broken concrete beneath its force. Megumi yelled your name, his expression dropping as he watched the somber smile that cut across your face when your eyes met his.

"Don't!" He warned, his hands cast backout in front of him, but your mind was already made up.

You secured your grip on Nobara, forcing her to lean more heavily on you while you dragged her a few steps closer to the fragmented remains of the entrance. You were so close– just a few more feet and you could hand her off to Yuuji, who was locked in a struggle of his own ahead of you.

But close wasn’t enough.

The energy in the room surged again, its presence suddenly suffocating and absolutely everywhere as thick, sharp tendrils snared around your legs. Your body felt like it had caught fire, the white-hot heat of its touch making your vision flicker in and out as it started to pull you backward, Nobara's weight shifting dangerously against you.

Your jaw clenched, your ears ringing as you fought to garner up every ounce of strength you had left to push forward. You were desperate, every step seeming to tear something essential out of you, but still, you moved.

Another blinding wave of pain hit you– the curse’s vines snapping again, just barely missing your head as they shattered another fixture above you. It was a storm of debris and splintered wood, making it hard to tell where its limbs began and the church's destruction ended.

“Yuuji!” you screamed, your voice raw as your stare caught his. “Take her!"

He was stunned, too worn-down and short on time to argue with you.

Your adrenaline was exhausted, every part of your body ready and willing to collapse, but with one final push, you managed to shove Nobara toward the faint light spilling out through the ruined entryway.

She staggered, her legs barely holding her as Yuuji lunged forward, catching her in his arms right before she fell. It was the first time you had allowed yourself to really breathe since you'd found her, a warm sense of relief cutting through the pain.

But it didn't take long for it to vanish, the crushing reality of the curse now looming over you suddenly outweighing any amount of comfort you'd once had.

Its grip coiled tighter around your legs, your body going limp as it dragged you back once more. There was static in your veins, an overwhelming pressure pushing down on your ribs, the taste of copper filling your mouth.

This was it.

The background commotion slowly tapered down, your senses gradually disconnecting from your body as the chappel started to drift further and further away. A surreal sense of acceptance wrapped around you like a warm hug. No more fighting, no more flailing– it was just you and the comfortable abyss that you were sinking into. Just you and the memories that you were able to keep until the very end. If you had to die in one way or another tonight, at least you were able to do it knowing that you had spared him one last time.

There was a distorted fluttering feeling in your chest. A dizziness in your brain. A hazy montage of impossibly blue eyes and all the things you should've said.

And then,

it all,

faded,

to black...

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

Megumi's head was throbbing when his eyes finally opened again, his stomach still in knots as he blinked back tears, trying to piece together where he’d ended up. He was sprawled out on a familiar grey leather couch with a knit blanket carefully tucked over him. The rigid winter air only amplifying his headache as it knocked against the window of his office.

“'Bout time you woke up."

His mind was overrun with the fractured pieces of what had happened, sensations and memories coming back in painful waves: The leveled church. The sound of glass shattering as he channeled his domain expansion. The feeling of your body pressed against his before everything vanished…

“Where’s..." The panic he felt was all-consuming, time coming to a grinding halt when he realized that he was the only one recovering. “Where is she...?"

Gojo's smirk was nowhere to be found, his stare softening a bit as he took a step towards him. "I talked to Shoko,"

"– And?" Megumi demanded.

"She told me about your sudden interest in Kokoro Kiri," his tone was light despite how pointed his words were, "Usually used for memory manipulation and soul severing, right? Causes the victim to forget specific people and events?"

"You know that's not what I meant–" Megumi snapped, "Is she...?" His face was flushed, his nerves completely shot as he struggled to swallow down the rest of his question. "Look, I don't care what happens to me after this, I'll take whatever punishment the higher-ups decide on, but I need to know what happened to her. Please, just..."

Gojo's demeanor was eerily calm, his hand resting easily on Megumi's shoulder as he bent down to become eye-level with him.

"If I had to guess," he paused, "She's probably still asleep."

Megumi's lips parted but the only thing that came out was a jagged exhale, his breathing coming out in short, choppy intervals. "So she's..." His head was spinning, relief and fear both clinging onto him at once. "She's okay, then? I mean, she's not...?"

"She's got some pretty deep cuts on her legs– probably gonna end up with a scar or two once she's fully healed, but other than that," A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he watched the life slowly return back to Megumi's eyes. "She's alright."

The tone of the room shifted into something more manageable despite the multitude of other unanswered questions that still sat between them. Megumi's hands shook slightly as he ran them over his face, images of the ruins he'd left behind coming back in flashes.

"You took down a special grade curse by yourself before I got there," Gojo said, almost sounding proud as he took a seat next to him. "I still had to clean up the aftermath of course, but..."

His stare lingered on him for a moment, the amusement in his tone fading, "She must be pretty important to you, huh? Making you tap into your full potential like that?"

Megumi hesitated, his gaze drifting to the floor as he nodded, remembering a brief conversation they'd had last year during a training session. "Yeah," he admitted quietly, "she is."

"You could've asked me for help, you know." Gojo shifted in his seat, letting out his own sigh while he rested his chin in his hands. "You should've asked me for help. You've gotta quit thinking that you can handle everything by yourself."

Megumi's jaw tightened, his words hanging heavily between them.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Gojo pressed, tilting his head at him as their eyes met again. "About the details of your contract? About the healer you've been seeing? Do you have any idea how bad that could've ended for you? For both of you, if you would've gone through with it?"

"I thought you already knew," Megumi bit back, exasperated by the fact that he was even asking in the first place. "You were there the night that I brought her back– you met me in Yaga's office after the negotiation was finalized."

Gojo looked back at him incredulously, "You honestly thought that I'd let you take on that kind of burden? From the higher-ups no less?"

His head was pounding, his thoughts clouded by an unnerving mix of exhaustion and guilt. "Yaga's never done anything in regard to me without running it by you first, even some of my missions get sent to you for approval, so why the hell would this have been any different?"

"Because you're an adult now." Gojo said simply, the gravity of his sentiment strong enough to break down Megumi's defense. "I didn't ask Yaga anything about your contract because I wanted it to be something that you handled on your own. I just figured you'd be smart enough to let me know if something went wrong."

The walls of his office felt like they were closing in on him as all of the resentment and pain that he'd been grappling with for the last five months suddenly came circling back to the true source of their existence– him. It was never you or Gojo or anyone else that had complicated his life this much, it was his own stubbornness. His refusal to accept help and admit defeat.

"I..." He faltered, his brows furrowing as he fought to keep his emotions at bay. "I'm sorry. You're right, I should've told you. I should've known when it was too much to take on alone..."

Gojo's expression softened slightly, his shoulder gently nudging his.

"Hey," He soothed, knowing better than anyone that getting an apology from Megumi– a sincere one, at that, meant something. "Growing pains are a part of life– this isn't your first and it won't be your last, but it's what makes us human. Sometimes lessons have to be hard to be remembered."

Megumi was quiet as he took in his words, letting the familiar sense of solace have its moment.

"Don't beat yourself up over it too much though, alright?" Gojo mused as he leaned back, lazily stretching his hands behind his head. "Your face is rough enough as is and I hear there's a cute girl waiting for you down in Shoko's office."

A small smile crept across Megumi's face as he nodded before getting to his feet.

"Oh and– and Megumi? One last thing."

He paused, his hand resting on the door handle as he looked back at him from over his shoulder. "Yeah?"

"We can go over the details later when you're not so," he gestured vaguely towards his tattered appearance, "Half-dead," he said flippantly, "But she's staying just so you know. No strings attached other than her maintaining her cover story while she's here, but aside from that, the contract is null and void– for both of you."

He froze, his pupils doubling in size as he stared back at him in disbelief. "How did you...?"

"10 million yen and a few offhanded threats tend to go a long way in the sorcerer world." He shrugged. "That, and the fact that we'll have her as an assistant once she graduates. Continuing to room with her is optional, but–" His smirk returned with playful ease. "I figured you wouldn't be in a hurry to kick her out just yet."

There was a part of him that was afraid if he blinked for too long, he'd wake up slumped against a rutted pillar with nothing but debris and ash surrounding him again. His throat tightened, trying his best to ground himself as he hesitated at the doorway.

"Thank you, Gojo." He finally managed. "For everything."

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

The next few days were a blur of pain medication, sleep, and holding Megumi's hand as he dozed off in the armchair next to you. He would end up in what looked like the most uncomfortable pretzel-like positions, but he still refused to leave your side no matter how many times you tried to tell him that it was okay if he wanted to go back to the dorm instead.

Aside from the occasional injured first-year that would wander in every so often, the medical ward was strangely peaceful. Your mornings were spent listening to Shoko explain various healing techniques while redressing the bandages on your legs. Checking to make sure that your body was responding to treatment the way it was supposed to while Megumi watched intently, taking mental notes for himself just in case he'd need them later.

Your afternoons were filled with visitors after word got out about how you'd sacrificed yourself to save Nobara against –what you'd later learned from Gojo– was a curse named Hanami. She was still recovering too, but her healing process had been a lot more sped-up than yours with her body being more acclimated to the effects of cursed energy. Yuuji brought you fresh flowers every day– big, well-thought arrangements with all of your favorite colors. "You'll tell her that these are from me, right?" He'd tease Megumi. "Don't want you takin' credit for my hard work."

While you knew that Gojo had managed to revoke the terms of your contract, the weight of it still hadn't fully left you. There were nights that you'd wake up in cold sweats, tears streaming down your face as you'd find yourself frantically reaching out for Megumi's hand. "I'm here," he'd whisper, "I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere."

It wasn't until you'd been released and the two of you were finally back in your room that things actually started to feel somewhat solidified. There wasn't the same looming sense of dread that used to follow you. There wasn't the constant weight of abandonment clawing at your chest.

There was just him and the way his hands felt grazing your jawline as he kissed you. The way that he tried so hard to be so delicate with you despite the pent-up fire behind his stare every time he touched you.

"Megumi," you breathed, pulling him closer as the morning sun began to seep in from the window. "I'm not made of glass." You reminded him, your fingers tangling into his hair.

HIs hands were still lingering on your waist, a faint smile pulling at the corner of his mouth as he looked back at you through heavy lashes. "You'll tell me if it's too much?"

There was something about the care in his eyes, the way he always put you first, even when his own restraint was clearly hanging on by a thread. You cupped his face, your thumb brushing against his cheek as you nodded. "Promise."

His grip on you tightened, the palm of his hand warm against the side of your neck before his tongue parted your lips again.

You could feel the shift of him starting to let go, the way his hand roamed from your neck to your lower back with his movements becoming more and more fervent. Breathy little noises filling the space between you while he helped you out of your shorts and tossed them to the side of his bed.

His forehead pressed against yours, his eyes tentatively trailing over you as he lined himself up with your entrance. It was the very last wall he had left, one that he never thought he'd be able to fully tear down until now.

He couldn't stop the low moan that escaped him as he slid into you, watching how your pupils dilated as you looked back at him with trust that he still wasn't sure he deserved. The words were right there, right where they'd always been, steady and terrifyingly honest.

He drew in a breath, letting himself sink into you, noting the way your body held him tighter the further he went. It had always been you. His hand shook slightly, using his thumb to tilt your head up towards his while his hips met yours with the same deep, consuming pace. It would always be you.

His lips parted, his mind slipping as he finally let go completely and buried everything he had in you,

"I love you."

It was soft but impossibly sure as it brushed across your skin, leaving a trail of warmth you didn't even know existed in its wake. There was suddenly no such thing as holding back– not the tears that were pricking at the corners of your eyes or the feelings that you'd tried so hard to control for the last six months. He was everywhere, embedded into every single part of you.

It settled over your chest, opening up like a floodgate once it began– "I love you." you breathed, your nails digging into his neck."I love you." you whimpered again as your back arched beneath him. "I love you." he panted, his hands firm against your hips as your walls began to unravel around him. "I love you." you cried, letting yourself fall apart for him entirely.

"I love you, I love you, I love you..."

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

#rem writes #jujutsu kaisen #megumi fushiguro #jjk x reader #fushiguro megumi #megumi x reader #megumi fanfic #megumi angst #jjk fanfic #gojo satoru #megumi smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen megumi #jjk slow burn #growing pains #jjk fluff #jjk smut #jjk angst

219 notes · View notes

servicpop · 9 months ago

Note

AUGH THE COWBOY FIC WAS SO FUCKING CUTE FHSHJSBUSKFDSKUS I LOVE IT SO MUCH!!!!!!! OUUUUUU

I ALREADY HAVE ANOTHER IDEA FOR THEM!!!! so the reader eventually has to get to the next town for a week or two for a series of shows, reader tells Cole where he’ll be and where he’ll preform so Cole can send him a letter if he’d like. Cole obviously send a him letters and reader writes back every time. But one day Cole doesn’t send reader a response and this makes him think Cole lost interest for some reason, so readers moping around and complaining about it to other show girls until Cole shows up at the place their preforming. Reader spots Cole in the crowd and gets excited immediately and the rest of the show he has a wide smile up until he can go out and talk to Cole who has flowers for the reader!!!

THIS CAN END FLUFFY OR SMUTTY OR BOTH IDC I JUST LOVE THESE TWO SO MUCH YOU DONT GET IT IM CRAZY RAH :3

-🎱

✶ ﹑ㅤletters & flowersㅤ﹏

NOW STARRING : Cole the cowboy x 'showgirl' m!reader

「ㅤSFW & NSFWㅤ」ㅤhalf is sfw and half is nsfw (the nsfw part will be separated and labelled as nsfw!)

✙ NSFW warnings — sub!top cole, dom!bottom/power bottom reader, cole is a virgin, riding, tummy bulge, cole is more vocal than reader, first time

notes ,, go to part one if you haven't read it already! Not proofread !!

You were able to extend your stay at Pinecrest just for a little while, and during your time here you were able to meet so many people and learn so many things about agriculture, farming, taking care of animals, and you even got to meet the local dog, Scout. More importantly, you were able to spend more time with Cole. He took you out almost every night to go sightseeing, taking you to his favourite spots whether it was in the mountains or by the lake. He even taught you how to ride your own horse and named her Taffy after you; since you were so sweet.

Nothing could've replaced those star-filled nights where it was just you and Cole with your horses, Taffy and Spirit, enjoying the cool breeze and endless conversations that seemed to meander. However, you were a busy man, especially while being in the entertainment industry you didn't have time to stick around forever. You could feel your heart sink just a little bit when your manager had announced that another show would be held in the next town for a few weeks. Of course you enjoyed your line of work, you loved performing, loved being on stage and hearing the cheers of others, but you also loved Cole's company. You knew that Cole had a role here at Pinecrest and it would've been selfish of you to ask him to come with you. But, it wasn't like you were going to keep this whole ordeal a secret from him.

"Cole?" Your voice seemed to break the silence; his head turned to look at you, "Yeah?" Cole's voice was warm, and gentle with a hint of ruggedness like honey dripping over gravel, and the way his eyes glittered when they met yours was enough to make your legs weak under the eye contact, causing you to splutter when you decided to speak again. "I– I have to leave tomorrow, I got another show I need to do at the next town," You mumble, shying away from his entrancing gaze. The cogs in his rusty little brain were visibly turning as Cole stared at you blankly with his lips parted like he was trying to comprehend your words. You can tell it finally settled in his mind when his face deflated like a sad puppy, "You're leavin' sugar?" His voice wavers as he stared at you; the fingers that were once tracing the rim of his glass paused, and the bartender took this moment of Cole's sad expression as a cue to refill his cup with root beer.

Oh, you couldn't do this to him. It was almost like kicking an abandoned puppy on the side of the road — totally cruel. You proposed the idea of sending letters and his sad puppy expression lifted just a little. Fishing in your bag you pulled out a flyer of your next show, sliding it across the counter so he could keep a copy for himself, "Here, send them to this address," you tapped the words in bold that say where you were performing. Cole — of course — takes the flyer eagerly, scanning over it to mentally note down the information written on it, "I'll definitely be sendin' you letters honey," Cole smiled with his dimples peeking through. He picked up his glass of beer and placed it between his lips to take a swig before he started blabbering about whatever came to his mind, a common habit of Cole, and you were always keen to listen to his rambles. You could listen to his voice all night long.

Unfortunately, Cole's most dreaded day came when you had to leave for the next town. He most definitely was one of the first people to wake up at the crack of dawn to catch you before you left, pressing a light, lingering kiss on the back of your palm as if you were a prince and he was nothing but a humble knight. After the townspeople waved you off, you and your fellow performers left via the vans. It was approximately a four hour ride, it would've been quicker if you took the train but your manager insisted to go by car for the scenery. You felt yourself missing Cole more than ever, more than anyone else that you've met and being in multiple towns and countries, you've met alot of people.

Your show was held over four days with a one day break in between and a few free days to explore the area — a total of one week and 3 days. As promised, after settling down in the new town, you received letters every morning from Cole. They usually contained heartfelt messages about his day, his animals, what he ate for every meal, some local gossip, and of course expressing how much he missed you. He even signed every letter with small doodles of what you assumed to be him and Scout. Sometimes, he'd even attach small poloroids of himself usually with Taffy and Spirit in the back. Every night when you had time to spare you scavenged your hotel room for a spare piece of paper and a pen, writing back a response with your signature and some doodles that were definitely not as good as Cole's. It's corny, but you kissed the envelop after sealing it before sending it off back to him.

One day after your 2nd show, you stopped receiving letters, and it really messed up your mood. Did Cole lose interest? Had he found someone better than you? Was it because you were away? All these thoughts ran through your mind and you found yourself slumped at the vanity, complaining and whining to the other showgirls on how you felt like he didn't like you anymore. Knowing how supportive the girls are, they always attempted to comfort you, patting your back and reassuring you that he might’ve just not had any time to write back, that he was busy tending the cattle and whatnot. But no matter what they said, that feeling if a pit in your stomach lingered for the 3rd show. Your aura wasn't the same, your energy wasn't the same, you couldn't perform as well as you did the first two shows.

But suddenly, you felt a strange, familiar pair of eyes staring at you from the crowd. Mid dance, your eyes scanned the sea of people and caught on that dear smile that seemed to light up even the darkest of nights. Cole. That stupidly charming cowboy was nestled in between the bodies of others looking at you. Just you with those eyes filled with admiration. Your heart skipped a beat — or multiple — and you felt your lips involuntarily curl up into a smile.

"That's it. That's the smile I love."

With a new-found burst of energy, your limbs no longer felt sluggish and that fake smile was replaced with a genuine one. All of the sudden, the spotlight seemed to focus on you, highlighting the sequins that glittered on your costume and your bright smile. The other showgirls seemed to notice your change in mood and they all shot you small smiles, watching at how your hips swayed with the beat of the music and how your dance lightened up the atmosphere. You couldn't wait to see him.

Once the performance ended and you and the other performers bowed, you immediately ran out into the crowd, searching frantically for Cole but no matter how hard you looked and pushed through the people, you couldn't find Cole. Your feet picked up in speed as you ran outside, looking around to find Cole leaning against a streetlight with a bouquet in his hands. "Hey," You huffed, catching your breath from all that running around. "You were— amazing, sweetheart," Cole smiled, extending his arm out for you to take the bouquet of dasies, "U–uhm, the daises are hand picked if— if you were wonderin'." From the way he was stuttering over his words like a highschool boy confessing to his crush, and how his eyes focused on anything but your face, you could tell he's never given flowers to anyone in such a romantic way. They were beautiful, all thoughtfully placed together to make the bouquet aesthetically pleasing with a white ribbon tied around the stems with a small bow. You took the bouquet before wrapping your arms around Cole in a warm embrace. He didn't expect you to hug him so abruptly but he for sure did not complain, taking only a second to return the hug, wrapping his arms around you protectively. "I've never seen you smile so wide before darlin,' were you excited to see me?" Cole chuckled, keeping your face pressed against his cheek as he tangled his fingers through your hair. A small laugh escaped your lips too as you teased back, "Don't get ahead of yourself now."

After catching up a bit on the way back to your hotel, you found out through Cole that one of his cows gave birth to an adorable baby he named 'Choco' from its brown coloured fur. He really did have a quirk in naming animals. Once back, he helped you find a vase for your daisies, filling it up with water before carefully plopping your flowers in them. You flopped onto the bed, bouncing slightly from how plush the mattress was, and Cole followed shortly, laying right beside you. As you laid on the bed with your eyes staring up at the white ceiling, you felt a hand tangle with yours, turning your head to meet Cole's grin and his hands holding yours tightly. "Thanks for coming tonight," You were more than happy that he actually took the time out of his day to come all the way here to watch you perform again, "You know I'd do anythin' for you sugar," He cooed, squishing your cheeks between his fingers before he brought your face to his, giving you a small peck on the lips. You always loved how soft and gentle Cole's lips felt agaisnt yours, and they always had a faint taste of strawberries on them.

"That's too corny,"

"You want corn? We can go to the corn fields sometime if that's what you want"

And that earnt a pillow straight to his face.

One kiss turned into two, maybe three, with you leaning over Cole's body while he was still laying down. His arm snaked over to hook around your waist, pulling you closer to him and tangling his legs with yours. As he presses his body agaisnt yours, you felt him poke at your thigh. He was excited, something that you didn't expect from sweet little Cole. He seemed to notice and it was evident through the blush that creeped up his neck, "S–sorry... it's instinct y'know?" His words stumble over eachother and he brings a hand to his face, hiding behind the comfort of his palms as embarrassment ate away at him. It was adorable! This guy being such a flustered mess just from a few kisses and you haven't even done anything that intimate yet.

You reassure him, obviously; you tell him that it's natural and that it's okay to react this way. But then it strikes you. He seemed so inexperienced, so shy about everything. Was Cole a virgin? "I've never done anythin' like this before... I've never felt this way about someone else," His usually loud and confident voice was now reduced to a soft, nervous whisper. He shuffled slightly, pulling you up and onto his lap, his eyes glittered with nervousness and excitement, "D'you think you could show me a thing or two?" Damn. The way he's looking at you with pure love and sincerity made your blood pump faster from how quick your heart was beating. You've been dying for this too, so why not?

You helped him undress before following shortly after, discarding your clothes somewhere in the hotel. He was surprisingly big— like really big. His pretty pink tip was already glistening with pre-cum from the previous kisses and he had a prominent vein that ran down the underside of his cock that was bound to be a sensitive spot for him. Cole was also more built than you expected, he had toned muscles that were most defined in his arms and he had pretty big pecs. They were like pillows, you'd have to convince him to let you sleep on them later. Cole refused to look you in the eyes while you rummaged the beside drawers for lube. You put a generous amount on your palm before placing the bottle down and turning to face Cole, who was trembling like a little mouse.

"Relax," you cooed, wrapping your lubed up hand around his shaft, pumping slowly to coat him. His body physically jerked once he felt the cool substance around his cock, and a low whine slipped from his lips. Cole's breathing became more heavy as you slowly stroked his length, his eyes fluttered with every movement. Once you deemed that to be enough, you slowly moved to hover over his lap and Cole's hands immediately went up to grip your hips for stability. You knew this would hurt; you weren't properly prepared but you didn't care that much. Slowly, you sunk down on Cole's cock, feeling the slight burn as you bit back small whimpers. "You okay sugar? 'Mnot hurtin' you am I?" Cole grunted, his fingers gripping your hips even more, guiding you down his length. He was concerned, yes, but he also couldn't help from twitching inside you.

"I'm fine," you replied with a small huff once you were able to take Cole in fully, relaxing a bit so you could get used to his size. Cole on the other hand was certainly not relaxing. You could almost see the muscles on his arm tense and he had this unfamiliar look in his eyes like he was desperate for something, any sort of movement from you. After awhile of just silence and stillness, Cole's resolve finally caved in, "Oh, please sweetheart, please move. Anythin'! I need to feel you, please," he whined like a little puppy, staring into your eyes as if he was going to die if you didn't give him any sort of relief. But that wasn't any fun now was it?

You leaned down, your hips rolling slightly in accord to your movements, and pressed a honeyed kiss on the outer corner of Cole's lips. That little movement with your hips almost made Cole cum on the spot. "You can't do that t'me," Cole's eyes gleamed over with tears, dampening his eyelashes. All wet and pretty. He swore he'd actually start crying if you didn't move. "Alright, alright, sorry," you apologised but didn't really mean it — he was so adorable begging you just to move. But, you weren't that cruel. A string of 'thank you's poured out of Cole's mouth as you rocked your hips rhymically, grinding down on his cock. His head tilted back against the silk pillows, his brown hair cascading across the pillowcase like flowing water. Cole's lips were slightly parted, and his chest rose and fell intermittently, some breaths short and stuttered, while others were deeper.

"It feels so good," Cole muttered out between pants. His voice was nothing short of a whiny mess mixed with a few moans and grunts. You lifted yourself off of him, almost lifting completely off of him before dropping your hips back down, earning a muffled whimper from you and a loud moan from Cole. He was undoubtedly alot more vocal in expressing his pleasure. His eyes opened with heavy eyelids, as he looked up at you; you could practically see the hearts in his eyes. Cole's gaze flickered down to your tummy and his mind went blank when he saw the small bulge in your stomach, "Oh mercy," he breathed out, his hand moved to touch your stomach, "You're gonna be the death of me if you keep— hah, keep teasin' me like this."

Your mind was just as lost as Cole's with the way his dick was able to reach your prostate so easily. It drove you crazy; his cock angled perfectly to hit it over and over again with each bounce. Your own neglected cock was sliding along Cole's happy trail, the warmth of his body made you twitch everytime you grinded your hips. "I'm— im close, so so so close, please— please let me cum." Beads of sweat rolled down Cole's temples and his forearms flexed, digging his fingertips into your hips hard enough to leave an indent — he was careful not to use his nails, Cole would never want to hurt you. "Im—" Cole sat up from his laying position, enveloping you in his arms and buried his face in the crook of your neck, needing something to hold onto while he orgasmed. His moans were muffled by your neck as his thigh spasmed faintly while he spilt his seed inside of you, filling you up to the brim. Your own orgasm followed after his, coating his abs with your fluid.

You two sat in the comfort of eachothers arms and the sound of your heavy breathing; your own arms were lazily draped over his shoulders with one hand stroking his hair. "When's your next show?" Cole asked, moving his head off your shoulder to look at you, "The day after tomorrow, but I have rehearsal tomorrow morning," a small pout spreads across Cole's lips as his eyes flicker to loon at your thigh instead. "Do you think you can walk properly tomorrow?" "Oh right..."

Bonus ♡

You winced as you settled down into the chair infront of the vanity. A few of the showgirls walked up to you, noticing that something was off, "You okay honey bun? You seem to be in alot of pain today," one of the girls ask, placing a comforting hand on your back. "He obviously got some action last night with that cowboy guy." "No I did not!" "It's obvious in the way you're limping sweetie."

Cole on the other hand, was still soundly asleep in your hotel bed, curled up with the blanket he stole from you during the night.

a/n ,, Cole oh sweet Cole . To be honest ,, I'm still not used to writing smut . I guess it's because I'm trying my hardest not to make it sound off or weird ,, maybe I'm just immature . The word cock sounds funny to me . Anyways !! I kinda rushed the smut . To be fair my main focus with Cole is how he's an innocent n' sweet guy but ya know ,, nsfw is what gets people going these days

#bottom male reader #male reader #oc x male reader #male x reader #mlm #male x male #servicpop — fics/drabbles #servicpop — ocs #sub character #dom male reader #x bottom male reader #original character #smut #gay #gay fanfiction #oc fluff #oc smut

822 notes · View notes

nothomegal · 1 year ago

Note

Broo please Hear me out.. how would y/n react to pyramid Head/pyra giving them a paper flower??

(i bet pyra saw some survivor make a paper flower and just watched how they made it so he could make one for you cause like there's no actual flowers in silent hill)

Aww that's so sweet! Hope you don't mind if I respond with a lil' fic instead of a messy doodle 😅 I just have so many things to say!

"Little flower"

(Pyramid Head x GN Reader)

Warnings: none, just fluff!

World count: 1.6k

—"What you're thinking about, big guy?"—

The voice of his human awokened the monster out if his erratic state. By the look on (Y/N)'s face, it seems like they've been trying to get his attention for a little while.

—“Is everything alright?"—

He let out a short metallic clank and nodded ones.

—“Just zoned out I see.”— you chuckle as you lean against his broad shoulder. —“I was daydreaming too, but had to stop when someone began to squeeze me a bit too much."— you add.

Squeeze-? Oh, right. The beast was currently walking through a corridor of the building they've unofficially turned into their home. Only that, Pyra was the one moving. (Y/N) meanwhile was being carried by the monster, their body effortlessly supported and held closely by one massive arm of their lover, whose grip was a bit too tight at that moment.

The two of them were silent most of the walk, just enjoying the presence of the other one. But the quietness was interrupted when (Y/N) softly hummed.

—"Have I ever told you you're very handsome?"— you playfully say as you look at his pyramid shaped helmet.

(Y/N) couldn't hide their grin, not when their lover lowered his head down as if he got flustered. Only when a small giggle escaped them is when Pyra squeezed them against himself, causing them to laugh instead.

—"Alright alright, I get it. No saying pretty things about the big scary Pyramid Head."—

Pyra doesn't react to their comment, at first. But soon a quiet little growl would slip from inside his helmet as he moves it to then gently nuzzle one of the edges against them. (Y/N) giggles again, and responds to the gesture by running one hand along the rough metallic surface of their lover's head.

Pyra's been acting very clingy since he had returned. A few hours prior he had left abrubtly, leaving his little human all confused. Despite being a tag startled, (Y/N) wasn’t too concerned, probably his duty as an executioner and punisher of Silent Hill calling. But imagine their surprise that when as soon as he came back, instead of a usual greeting like nuzzling his helmet against them or licking their cheek, the monster simply yoinked them up and began to walk with them in his arms.

The whole time their walk lasted, (Y/N) couldn't stop thinking about what Pyra could have in mind. They've been his for a long time already and know that things never happen out of the blue with him, there is always some sort a reason for everything he does. Though some could be quite... Silly or small, maybe straight up petty. (like when they were 'too tolerant' with a Creeper, a fucking bug. Jeez they probably were carried and manhandled like a rag-doll for a week-)

They zone back in when Pyra suddenly stops and gently sets them back on their feet. (Y/N) eyes the room curiously, but it seemed to have nothing out of the ordinary or special, just another abandoned room of Silent Hill.

—"So... You want to chill in here for..."—

Their voice quietens when the beast suddenly sticks the sword into the floor and stalks towards one of the few furnitures the room had. (Y/N) observes him in silence, curiosuty slowly morphing in confussion when they witness their lover open and take something from the inside. Huh? Okay... That's something new.

And the silence remains even when the monster turns back and begins to make his way towards them.

The executioner is known for his brutality and determination, never backing away or leaving his victim be, always hunting them down and providing the scariest of the punishments...

This is how everyone viewed him. Viewed it.

(Y/N)? They already seen a side of him that no mortal or creature could ever imagine, but it seems like such side had corners yet to reveal.

When close enough, Pyra reaches for (Y/N)'s hand and brings it towards himself, their palm facing up. Then, he places...

—"...!?"—

(Y/N)'s breath shakes a little and eyes wide when they see what was placed on their hand.

Flowers. Paper flowers.

The time seemed to freeze and reality fade away. (Y/N) couldn't believe their eyes. Pyra... Pyramid Head himself, just gave them a gift?...

They take in the apparence of said gift. The flowers weren't perfect, more like a bunch of scrunched paper shaped the best it can be into a flower. But even if the result wasn't the most perfect, the effort and care put into these was reflected... Wait, did...

(Y/N) slowly drags their gaze towards the monster, who was standing in front of them completely still.

...Did he made these?

...For them?

The silence was suffocating. (Y/N) remained frozen in place, their eyes now directed again to the flowers but their gaze seemed lost. The beast remained just as still, even his breathing got quieter.

Pyra is known for his steel composure. He never experienced anything like fear or anxiety. If anything, he is the sourse of these. But now? Now he's probably feeling something of this for the first time of his existence. Was that a bad decision? Did he reopened the already scarred wounds by reminding (Y/N) of the real world and the fact that they've been gone for so long? That they will never return to see the real flowers and life without him going absolutelly ballistic about it?

Maybe it is, maybe it was a bad idea... But the attempt was worth it, right?... They always observed the few pictures and paintings of nature with such fond eyes, trying to take in and store that little piece of landscape into their memory. They always showed particular likeness to flowers, sometimes drawing those and commenting which are their favorites. He never really got the point of these though, but (Y/N) liked them so it had to be important.

Only when he witnessed some unfortunate newcomer making some using paper, is when he really started to think about it. And after seeing how (Y/N) perked up when they saw yet another landscape drawing, something just snapped inside of him and he knew he had to take action.

And now, seeing how still his human is, he really began to second guess his decision. They must be dissapointed with the results, he had to try harder and be more careful... But it's so damn hard to fold the paper without breaking it with these damn huge hands of his-.

The sudden sensation of arms wrapping tightly around his waist pulled the monster out of his thoughts. Pyra tilts his helmet down, looking at (Y/N), who's face was hidden in his chest. Their shoulders would shake at times and a muffled huff would come out... Are... Arethey sobbing?

Pyra of course tensed, clearly affected by seeing his lover cry. But when (Y/N) lifted their head and looked up at him...

—"Thank you... Thank you so much...!"—

Yes, there were tears in their eyes... And so the shine of absolute hapiness and gratitude, so pure that it resembled the eyes of an angel, at least to him.

—"I-... It's just-..."— you let out a small chuckle as you struggle to put your thoughts and emotions into words. —"It's just... No one ever did something so... So loving and special for me."—

(Y/N) falls silent again as they snuggle closer to Pyra, most likely realizing that no ammount of words could express just how thankful they were. As they're clinging to their lover like a lifeline, they feel his body slowly relax and then contract just enough for him to wrap his arms around their form, hugging them back.

They stayed like this for a good ammount of minutes, just holding each other while (Y/N) spoke time to time, gifting Pyra with their lovely voice and more gratitude. It's a small thing, yes, but for (Y/N) is huge. Especially because a creature who never even concerned itself with such silly meaningless things like flowers made it, putting its time and effort into the gift for them.

When it became clear that the snuggles wouldn't end anytime soon, (Y/N)'s body is suddenly lifted into the air and swung over a shoulder to then be carried towards the closest wall. Despite being manhandled, (Y/N) couldn't stop smiling and would often giggle as they're transported like a sack of potatos. It's a bit of a contrast with the usual gentleness their partner handles them. But hey, Pyra's allowed to have some fun too!

They're both soon settled down, embracing each other once again. Pyra sitting and leaning against the wall while (Y/N) is cofortably nestled on his lap and against his chest. They observe the paper flowers, fingers carefully tracing along the imperfect petals that they're looking at with such love-filled eyes.

—"They're beautuful, really. You're very talented."—

A small rumbling groan escapes from Pyra's helmet as he tights his grip around them.

—"I'm serious! You're an amazing artist!"— you exclaim. —"Just look! Your hands and strenght have the triple of my size and power yet you still managed to make it look like a flower! Bet If I tried to make one it would end up looking like some cursed paper mess."—

He groans, clearly disagreeing with their statement. (Y/N) simply sighs with a giggle.

—"If you don't believe me then we could try to make some more later."— you cassually comment.

Pyra remains quiet, thinking. Eventually he makes a noise and dips his head in a small nod, agreeing with the suggestion. (Y/N) smiles, their eyes sparkling with excitement and joy, as genuine as from a little kid.

The monster would definitely smile if he had a face for it. He haven't seen (Y/N) this bright and alive ever since they realized their feelings for each other are mutual.

Looks like his assumptions were right, flowers indeed are important for his human if it made them feel like this.

To be honest...

He kinda likes them too now.

#nothomegal ask reply #nothomegal fic #pyramid head #pyramid head x reader #gn reader #pyramid head x y/n #slasher fluff

499 notes · View notes

littlexdeaths · 9 months ago

Text

ꜱʏᴍᴘᴀᴛʜʏ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴠɪʟ - ᴇ.ᴍ.

demon kas x human eddie x fem hunter (supernatural au)

i found god, i found him in a lover.

when his hair falls in his face, and his hands so cold they shake…

i found the devil, i found him in a lover.

and his lips like tangerines, and his color coded speak…

warnings: 18+ ONLY MDNI! established relationship, hate fucking, oral (fem receiving), unprotected piv sex, cream pie, mentions of blood, anything italicized is eddie’s inner dialogue to kas

word count: 3k

a/n: it’s me back again with another repost of an old fic. i also want to give a big shout out to my darling @undead-supernova for helping me edit multiple parts this fic. ily august 💕

You knew he was here.

From the smell of sulfur lingering in the air, to the heavy presence in the room. Your skills as a hunter were too great, you knew he couldn’t have led you astray.

But maybe he wanted you to find him.

This cat and mouse game you’ve been playing for months was just a little too exciting for him to give up. You should’ve been scared, your instincts told you to be. But hearing his husky voice cut through the darkness of the abandoned warehouse made your heart skip a beat.

“Nice to see you again, sweetheart…”

You couldn’t tell where he was yet, still using the cover of the night to shield himself from you. You clutch your bottle of holy water closer to your side as his chuckle bounced off the walls. “You’ve tried that before, it didn't work out so well last time. Did it, pet?”

He was getting closer, you could tell by the way your hair stood up on end. Squaring your shoulders as he finally steps out into the moonlight. The sight makes you freeze, your eyes widening in disbelief. Kas looked different from the last time you had seen him.

He had taken on a new vessel, one that had become quite familiar to you.

Eddie Munson, a bartender you had met at a place called the Hideout. After you’d stumbled inside the rundown bar for a drink after finishing a grueling hunt somewhere in Indiana.

He was sweet, and you both needed to let off some steam. So you took him back to your motel room for the night… and the night after that. The male had made you feel things no one else ever could. So you kept finding yourself going back to that shitty town to see him. Where he was always waiting with that charming smile and a rum and coke.

But now guilt riddled your chest as his once chocolate hues were a stark onyx, Eddie was long gone.

The demon in front of you smirks, eyes watching you in amusement as the recognition crossed over your features.

This was your fault, you put him in harm's way. You had been told time and again not to let yourself be involved with non-hunters. Regular folk. It would put them at risk, not knowing about the things that go bump in the night.

But demons were especially dangerous, they didn’t need consent to take over someone’s body. The only reason you were protected was due to the dark ink that swirled over your hip bone.

Kas takes a step toward you, causing you to take one step back in return. This only made that smirk widen as another chuckle slipped past his lips.

Lips that had been on you too many times to count.

“He thinks about you a lot, you know… wanted you to stay with him so many times.” The demon hums condescendingly, the implication behind his words makes your heart stutter in your chest.

Coming to the realization that you could never have that happy ending now, not with him, or anyone.

After crossing paths so many times, you knew how malicious the demon standing before you could be. Even if you were able to banish him back to hell, Eddie wouldn't be able to return to a normal life.

Once that veil between those worlds is lifted, there’s no way to undo the damage it causes. You’ve seen it more times than you can count.

“A little pathetic, really…” Kas continues as he advances on you slowly, backing you further into a corner.

Your emotions are clouding your reasoning, allowing the demon to continue to close in on you. It shouldn’t be affecting you like this, but as much as you tried to convince yourself otherwise… you knew one thing was true. You had fallen for the metalhead.

And now you’d never get him back.

“But don’t worry, sweetness— he’s still in here with me,” as he speaks you feel your back connect with the cool concrete, the male now caging you against it.

His body felt warm against yours, a juxtaposition to the cold seeping into your back. His familiar scent of citrus and tobacco engulfs your senses completely, bringing you back to the last time you saw each other. Your limbs were tangled together as you lay in a post sex haze. His lazy smile made your skin tingle, finding yourself tracing over the faded tattoos on his chest.

From the flash in his dark eyes you knew he was reliving a memory of Eddie’s, if not the same one.

His calloused fingers begin to trail across your neck, unintentionally allowing yourself to lean into the graze of his fingertips. Despite how your mind screams at you to push him away, your body continues to betray you. Kas can’t help but notice how your skin heats under his touch, how your thighs squeeze together. It amuses him more than you’ll ever know.

“Don’t touch me,” you mutter, wishing your words held much more malice than they do. The slight shake in your voice causes another dark chuckle to spill past his plump lips. Mocking you.

The demon leans further into your space, those damned lips grazing over your collarbone. The feeling causes you to shiver as goosebumps break out across your skin. Kas continues to leave hot, open mouthed kisses along your throat. The feelings of fear, anger and arousal mixing together— making your head spin.

“You can deny that you want this with your words all you want sweetheart, but I see the way your body reacts to this vessel.” He taunts, letting his teeth nip at your tender flesh.

“I feel those goosebumps on your skin, the way you shiver under his touch, and… I can smell you.” Kas growls, his teeth sinking roughly into your skin.

A slight whimper leaves your lips as you attempt to push him away. But it’s too late— he has the upper hand now.

His fingers lace themselves into your hair and tug, exposing more of your neck to him. He licks a stripe up your throat to your ear, taking the lobe between his teeth.

“I can feel how bad he wants you too, you know. The way he reacts to your body… you have no idea how much he wants to feel you again.”

Your eyes widen in shock as the demon presses his hips into yours, feeling how hard he was through the fabric of his jeans.

Get the fuck off her asshole, she’s mine!

Kas chuckles again, pulling back slightly as his hands continue to wander down your body. There’s a flash of something in those onyx hues, leaving you to wonder what hidden joke you’re missing out on.

“Your little boy toy isn’t very happy with me, sweetheart… he doesn’t want to share. How selfish of him,” he feigns a pout, leaning forward as his nose glides along your jaw.

I’m warning you, dickhead.

His deep chuckle fills the silence once more as his large hands grip onto your hips, “Isn’t he selfish, pet?”

“Fuck you,” you spit back, shoving him away but only momentarily. His hands quickly return to the curve of your waist, pulling you flush against his chest.

That spark of defiance returns, which only makes the demon grin wider. His hold on your hips becomes harsher, the metal of his rings biting into the skin there.

“Hmm… with pleasure, darling.” His lips hover over yours as his sweet breath fans across your face. There’s a moment when those black hues slowly start to fade, the brown of Eddie’s returning.

Seeing that flicker of him, the man you had desperately fallen for— is what finally breaks your resolve.

Closing that short distance between you and angrily smashing your lips against his. He moans into your mouth, his hands hooking under your thighs to lift you. Trapping you further against the wall as he grinds his pelvis into yours.

You don’t know where Kas starts and Eddie ends, but you can’t find it in yourself to care.

The kiss is angry, all tongue and teeth viciously clashing together. There’s still a small part of you that’s begging you to get away, that this was wrong. But your body has taken over control, that little voice fading with each press of his lips against yours.

His tongue glides along your lower lip, begging for entry you weren’t yet willing to give. The male doesn’t give up that easily though, his hands roaming over the curve of your ass and squeezing.

The action takes you by surprise, the small gasp you let out allowing him to slip inside. Kas groans as he sucks your tongue into his mouth, before setting you back on your feet. He pins your hips against the rough concrete as he kneels before you.

The demon eagerly buries his face in between your thighs as he inhales deeply, “I need to know if this pussy tastes as sweet as it smells.”

You’re stunned into silence as he reaches to quickly unbutton your jeans. Finding yourself all too eager to aid him in sliding the denim and lace down your legs. Stepping out of the fabric as Kas tosses them somewhere in the dark of the warehouse.

The brunette doesn’t waste another moment before his tongue is licking a fat stripe up your slit, forcing your thighs apart in his strong hands. Your fingers lace themselves in his wild curls, tugging harshly as you feel his tongue dip inside your entrance. His growl vibrates against your core, nose nudging your bundle of nerves in a way that has your legs trembling in his grasp.

“Hmm, even better than his memories…” you nearly miss his admission over your soft whines, but you don’t have time to dwell on it.

Kas eagerly replaces his tongue with his fingers as the muscle swirls up and around your swollen bud. Your head is swimming, his actions bringing you that much closer to the edge. The male enjoys the way you grind yourself harder onto his tongue as your grip on his hair tightens. Feeling the way your walls flutter around his fingers only encourages him to pick up the pace.

While your eyes have slipped shut, his are wide open. The stormy irises commit each pleasurable expression that flits across your face to memory— to both of their memories.

The almost inhuman speed of his fingers and the firm pressure of his tongue finally pushes you over the edge. As your loud cries echo throughout the empty warehouse. You attempt to push his head away, but his lips don’t leave your body. Instead he trails them down your thighs, smearing your slick across your skin.

You curse softly before dropping to your knees, pushing him backwards. He is surprised by your sudden dominance, but allows you to lay him back on the dirty ground. Your hands fumble with his belt, pulling the zipper down with an urgency you had never seen from yourself before. It makes him chuckle, as you greedily shove his pants down to his knees.

“If you were that needy for our cock you could’ve just said so, sweetness.” He grins devilishly as your hands reach for the elastic of his boxers.

Mine, not yours…

Your eyes flick up to meet his, the smirk plastered on his lips fuels your irritation further.

“Shut the fuck up, Kas.” You say between gritted teeth, pulling his hard cock out from the confines of his boxers as he stifled a moan.

Fuck, that’s my girl…

You don’t give him much warning before you’re straddling his hips, sinking down onto his full length with a whimper. It didn’t matter how many times you had taken him to bed, you were still in awe of just how well he filled you up. You could feel every vein and ridge of his cock, caressing your inner walls in a way no other man could.

It was addictive, a slice of heaven you never wanted to lose.

The male grips your hips tightly, guiding them as he rocks his own up against yours. He’s groaning beneath you, dark eyes watching the space where your bodies are connecting with almost… fascination. A creamy ring has formed around the base of his cock as you continue to ride him. You let your nails dig into his clothed chest with a satisfied whine, your head falling back as you take him deeper.

She really is an angel…

The demon doesn’t seem pleased with your languid pace any longer as he abruptly flips you both over. The movement knocks the wind from your lungs. Kas grins down at you, his teeth gleaming in the moonlight that has filtered in through a broken window. His large hands hold you firmly in place as he begins slamming into your cervix. Causing your back to arch off the grimy floor, your shirt riding up in the process.

The sounds of your bodies connecting fill the once eerie silence of the night. His eyes rake over your newly exposed skin, pushing the material further up your torso. His calloused fingers trace over the ink splayed across your hip with a dark look.

“This little mark might protect your soul, but it’s not going to protect your body.” He grunts as he continues to slam his hips harder into yours, “Not from me. Or him.”

You don’t answer, instead grabbing a fist full of his hair and smashing your mouths together. He kisses you back just as roughly, teeth catching your lower lip hard enough to draw blood. The familiar taste of his saliva mixes with a harsh metallic flavor. The taste of you on his tongue only fuels the fire raging inside you. The male sucks your bleeding lip in between his.

Kas grabs your shaky legs, wrapping them around his waist to join you closer together. A gasp escapes your lips as he hits that sweet spot inside you, causing your eyes to roll back. The demon groans as he feels you pulse around his cock, trailing his lips over your jaw. The mixture of his spit and your own blood smearing across your skin.

“No wonder he can’t stop thinking about you,” his words are spoken so softly you almost don’t catch them.

Pride blooms in your chest as a small smirk graces your features, but it’s wiped away just as quickly. His hips pound into yours even faster, leaving any snarky comment to die on your lips. Instead a pleasurable cry pierces the air as your nails drag across his back.

You can feel your orgasm building with each deep stroke of his cock, filling you to the brim. His lips suck onto the base of your throat, his breath coming out in short pants as you tighten around him more.

“That’s it, angel. It's okay, I’m here.”

Your eyes that had previously fluttered shut, now snap back open. Coaxing his face up from the crook of your neck. No one ever called you that but Eddie, not even Kas.

Your eyes meet his brown ones, letting his hips slow their pace. That signature dimple indents his cheek when he smiles down at you, tears blurring your vision. You quickly blink them away to see him more clearly. Eddie leans down, gently kissing away the moisture that has stained your cheeks.

He wraps you in his arms, pulling you up and into his lap. The new position only buries him deeper inside you, allowing the pleasure to wash over you completely. Your body trembles in his embrace as you rest your forehead against his.

“Eddie,” you moan, grinding yourself harder onto his cock as he holds you close.

His touch is much softer as his hands reach out to caress every inch of you. While he still has control over his own body. Allowing himself to soak in every moment before he’s ripped away from you again. But between your pretty cries and his husky groans, neither of you will be lasting much longer.

“I’ve got you, angel… come for me.” The promise of safety in his voice makes your heart flutter in your chest.

Feeling his fingers encircle over your sensitive nub, he gives you one more hard thrust before you finally fall apart. A breathy cry of his name tumbles from your lips as you feel him twitch inside you. Your body melts further against him, an attempt to keep him here with you. Despite knowing the reality that was soon to come.

“Fuck… I love you. I love you.” He sounds desperate as he mutters the words against your temple.

In your blissful state you don’t notice the black haze beginning to overtake his irises. His words ring in your ears as you feel him spill inside you. Not stopping the movement of his hips as he fucks his essence deeper inside you. Letting your head fall into the crook of his neck as you mumble those three words back into his flushed skin. His comforting scent washes over you as you attempt to catch your breath.

“Well wasn’t that just so sweet,” your body stiffens in his embrace, his deep chuckle snapping you out of the sweet cocoon you were just in.

You quickly scramble out of his lap in an effort to detach yourself from him. His previously comforting touch now sets your skin ablaze, as if he had burned you. You can feel the mixture of your arousal dripping down your thighs as you hurry to find your discarded clothes in the dark.

In your frenzied state, you don’t hear him approaching until he’s right behind you. His ringed fingers dig into the curve of your waist as you bend over to retrieve your jeans. His hips flush against your ass, the metal on his belt pressing into your bare skin. His hand reaches around to dip in between your thighs, collecting some of the mess you both made.

Kas eagerly sucks the digits into his mouth with a moan, before you feel the warmth of his body disappear.

“We’ll be seeing you soon, sweetheart… you can count on that.”

Is the the last thing you hear as he slips into the still of the night.

#the freak writes 🫧#eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #kas eddie munson #kas!eddie munson #kas!eddie munson x reader #supernatural x stranger things au #[ the munson files ]

299 notes · View notes

odo-apologist · 6 months ago

Text

Thinking about Out of Time, specifically the ending, which, in my opinion, is one of the best Rimmer scenes of the franchise. It's one of those moments- like his sacrifice for Nirvannah in Holoship or his insistence that Lister burn his soldiers in Marooned as a gesture of friendship- that hint at the potential that he has, deep down, of being noble, heroic, kind. What's particularly interesting about this scene, though, is that up to this point, Rimmer has often been shown as having a fascination with power, with militarism and fascist aesthetics. This is among his worst, most dangerous traits. You see the extreme outcome of it in Meltdown, what I think is Rimmer at his most abhorrent; he is the cause of the death of an entire group of people all because he wanted to live out his power fantasy of being a strategic military general, watching the battle at a distance like he describes in Marooned. Of course, as others have pointed out in their own posts, Rimmer's desire for/adoration of power likely comes more from his desire to be loved and prove he's deserving of love, but its consequences can be horrific. In Out of Time, when he encounters a version of himself that is an *actual* fascist sympathizer/apologist, he is disgusted. He is the one who wants to fight and who says, "Better dead than smeg." Whereas his future self says he would rather die than live like rats as the present crew do, our Rimmer would rather die fighting than live a life of ease and comfort while rubbing shoulders with bloodthirsty, power-crazed dictators.

And I think it's really interesting that the episode before this one is Rimmerworld. The aspect I often think about (that I wouldn't be surprised a lot of other fans also often think about) is Rimmer's 550+ years of imprisonment. It's such a disturbing concept, being kept in solitude for that inconceivably long, that its apparent dismissive treatment as a joke and lack of any real impact on Rimmer haunts me a little bit and I'm glad there are a few fics out there that explore the aftermath more thoroughly. But before he ends up in that situation, he 1. Abandons the others- the seemingly only people who have ever come close to caring about him- to die, leaving them to flee in an escape pod, and 2. Creates a civilization of clones of himself that he clearly bases off of the Roman Empire (a notable inspiration for many fascists). The first is significant because it shows the contrast between his cowardice in that situation and his lack of it in Out of Time. But the second point here, about the creation of his civilization, may show why that contrast happens between episodes, the reason for it. The civilization of Rimmerworld, based on an obsession with power, inspired by what we can assume is Rimmer's own idealized view of the Romans and empire in general, is the same that causes his centuries of suffering. So the next episode, when he sees another version of himself willing to get along with the kind of people like those who imprisoned him (who, albeit, were also versions of him)...I don't know, maybe the events of Rimmerworld did have some notable effect on him after all, at least for a while; maybe that's why he was so sure in his decision that the crew fight even though he knows they'll die trying.

Or maybe I'm just being ridiculous and overthinking things

#Sorry! having Thoughts and had to ramble about them #Also I'm blanking on if Rimmer still shows intetest in dictators and the like after series 6 #There are still episodes about his admiration with authority (Officer Rimmer Mechocracy etc.)#But besides a comment in Timewave Kryten makes about him collecting figurines #I can't recall many others #Red Dwarf #Arnold Rimmer #Original Post #Oh wait! I remembered he has books listed on his revision timetable in The Beginning #can't recall who by though and I'm too lazy to look it up right now lol

111 notes · View notes

onas-batlle · 10 months ago

Text

sacred new beginnings

pairing: lucy bronze x ona batlle

warnings: none

synopsis: after finding out that ona hasn’t gone on a proper date in years, lucy offers to take her out on a couple of purely platonic dates. just to get the anxiety out of the way, of course. why else?

a/n: i know people voted for this fic to remain an x reader, but i couldn’t bring myself to not make this about lucy & ona, so I edited it a bit! unsure if i will publish an x reader version of this because i’m not really bothered, but we shall see 😊 i also have no idea if there is a lake for fishing in barcelona, so suspend your belief for a bit please!

Ao3 Link

———

There’s no time to feel more out of the loop than when one’s circle of friends discusses their romantic escapades, and that was exactly how Ona felt as the number of dates she had been on recently was a big, fat zero. Being basically married to her job did not allow for many dating opportunities, and truthfully, once the Spaniard finally slowed down enough to even think about finding some romance - the lasting kind, not that friends with benefits type - the extent of her fame quickly quashed those chances. She found the increased attention rather overwhelming and quite frankly scary, and women only wanting her for her celebrity meant that a genuine relationship was not in the cards at the present.

Come to think of it, she wasn’t even sure she really wanted to play the dating game; the horror stories heard from teammates often causing her to recoil in her chair – Bruna’s about a date bringing their mother along and then having an allergic reaction to the shrimp still fresh in her mind. The last time she had even attempted a romance had been with Felicitas Rauch, and that had ended before it had really even began. She’d been basically celibate since then, and apparently, this was borderline unheard of, if the yell of Mapi León was anything to go by.

“What do you mean you haven’t dated in years?” Mapi questioned, the drinking of her coffee abandoned as she turned to gape at Ona.

“I don’t know, just haven’t really gotten around to it,” she shrugged, cheeks turning hot as she noticed the eyes of most of her club team on her. A certain pair of sparkling hazel eyes trained on her made her flush even darker, if possible, and she averted her eyes as quickly as she could. Despite her obvious discomfort, Mapi pressed on. “Not a single date or nothing?”

“Eh, had a fling with Feli for like a month before it kind of- “

“That was over a year ago, amiga. And from what I heard, you didn’t even go on a proper date,” Patri butted in, and Alexia smacked the back of her head as she regarded the Spanish fullback’s embarrassment at that statement.

Seeing the slightly pitying looks from her teammates, Ona went to speak, but before she could scramble together a sentence to alleviate the embarrassment, Lucy chimed in. “What’s keepin’ you from datin’ now?”

Ona paused, mulling over the reasons in her head before settling on an answer. “I guess I’m kind of nervous about dating again. I don’t even know if I can still flirt.”

A poor reason, admittedly, but better than revealing to her team about her anxiety around her sky-rocketing fame post-World Cup. At least she could attribute that excuse to everyone else’s constant anecdotes about bad experiences within the dating realm.

“Everyone is a bit awkward at least once, chiqui. There’s no reason to be nervous,” Alexia said soothingly, shooting a glare at Mapi who snickered a little at the fullback’s answer. After fixing Mapi with her own pointed look, Ona let out a sigh.

“I know, but I can’t help but feel that way, sabes?” That was met with an understanding silence from her team before Lucy slammed her hand on the table and shot up out of her seat.

“I can do it!” she boomed, a smug smirk on her face.

“¿Qué?” came the response from around the table, everyone furrowing their brows at what Lucy just said. Seeing the confused faces of her teammates, she slowly sat down again and cleared her throat before beginning to explain her genius plan.

“Think about it, Ona hasn’t gone on a date in ages, right? And she’s nervous about the awkwardness that will come along with it. If she goes out on a couple of fake dates with me, and I make it as horrific as possible, then she can get those bad date experiences out of the way, and get used to going on dates again! What do you say?”

With that, Lucy mimed an explosion with her fist and glanced around the table to garner people’s reactions. Mapi was nodding in agreement, Alexia’s brow was furrowed in contemplation, and Cata just looked thoroughly confused. Flicking her eyes towards Lucy, Ona saw the Lioness staring at her expectantly.

Truthfully, it was lowkey an awful idea, but Ona supposed that it would help her get the ‘back on the dating scene’ jitters out of the way and would allow her to spend some time with Lucy, who she shamefully had nursed a small crush on for a while now.

“Okay.”

“Okay?!” came someone else’s shout, but Ona was too focused on Lucy’s determined pump of the fist to locate where the protest came from.

“That was easy,” Lucy spoke into the Spaniard’s ear as she gathered her into a crushing hug, and grinned at Ona once she let go. “I will see you on Wednesday for Bad Date #1.”

There was nothing she could do but nod.

---

It was only when Ona was sat on the boat that the regret came rushing in, narrowing her eyes at Lucy who was fiddling with the fishing poles a few metres away. It was not a secret that she had a strong dislike for fishing, the smell of the bait, the unstable feeling of floating on water in a boat the size of a tin can, and the gleam of the fishhooks bringing her back to the disastrous fishing trips with her father and older brother.

Many days were spent in a small fishing boat, with her father’s disappointed sighs being the soundtrack to her disgust at the dead fish that surrounded her, and a lurching stomach created by the movement of the water below. She supposed this is why Lucy chose it for Bad Date #1.

“Chin up, darling. Let’s get ready to catch some big fish!” Lucy thrust a fishing rod at Ona, shocking her out of her memories and with a little bit of grumbling, the younger woman begrudgingly took it, Lucy’s face lighting up in a smile at her behaviour.

Following her lead, Ona attempted to bait her hook with a particularly fat mealworm that still wriggled between her fingers. Maybe it was poor timing, but a small movement from Lucy caused the boat to shift suddenly, and Ona’s hand got caught on the sharp point of the fishhook. She let out a hiss of pain and went to go suck the wound, forgetting that she was clutching a slimy worm in her hand until she was practically eyeball to eyeball with it. Not exactly expecting to be so up close and personal with a mealworm, Ona let out an almighty scream and tossed it away.

To her horror, instead of plopping harmlessly into the water, it found it’s way to Lucy’s lap. The older woman’s scream echoed around as well, and Ona had to stifle a grin as Lucy turned to narrow her eyes suspiciously at the Spaniard.

“Having trouble with your bait?” Lucy questioned and held up the worm Ona had sent flying in her direction, the initial shock having worn off and leaving behind an expression of amusement.

“I hate you Lucia Roberta,” Ona grumbled, swatting away the mealworm that Lucy had now started dangling in her face.

The older woman just laughed and dropped the bait back into the bucket, deciding that teasing Ona in the middle of a bloody lake was not a good idea. “Oh, you don’t really. Plus this hasn’t been too awkward now, has it?”

“I suppose not. I feel too sick to be awkward.” Ona did look a bit pale, and she quickly sucked in a breath and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to force her breakfast to stay down in her stomach where it belonged.

“Just try and focus on the fish, not the boat swaying.” Lucy advised, placing a warm hand on Ona’s shoulder. If she had been anywhere other than a small boat swaying in some water, Ona would have blushed, but she currently found herself rather preoccupied.

“Lucy, I don’t think you understand that the smell of the fish is also making me feel very sick,” she gritted out, clenching the seat she was sitting on with a white-knuckled grip.

“Look, I have some spare plastic bags if you need one, okay? Here, I’ll rebait your hook and we will try again.”

Ona opened her eyes and nodded grimly, accepting the plastic bag Lucy had in her outstretched hand and the newly baited rod. Once both of them had finally settled, casted their lines and were waiting for a bite, they began to chat a bit about Ona’s life with United in Manchester, and Lucy’s experience in Barcelona before Ona had come home and rejoined the team. Slowly the Catalan felt herself beginning to feel less ill, her teammate and friend doing a great job at distracting her from the situation that the Lioness herself had put them in.

After a half hour or so, they were interrupted by a tug on Ona’s line, and the Spaniard looked at Lucy with wide eyes. “What do I do?”

“Reel it in?” Lucy responded, grinning a little at Ona’s alarm.

“Mierda, it’s very strong!” Ona spoke as her muscles flexed, trying incredibly hard to reel the fish in. But the stupid thing absolutely refused to budge, the fish at the end of the line fighting for it’s life to remain in the water. A particularly strong tug made Ona almost fly into the water, and pleaded with her eyes for Lucy to give her a hand.

“Here, let me try.” With that, Lucy abandoned her line, and shuffled closer to Ona, the Spanish woman suddenly finding her senses overwhelmed with everything Lucy.

The press of her warm shoulder against Ona’s, the positively intoxicating perfume that she had on, and the fact that she was close enough that Ona could see the small sun spot close to her right eye had the Catalan so captivated that when the English woman said something to her, Ona jumped in shock and accidentally dropped the rod that she was holding.

The both of them watched as the rod got tugged away by the fish who was no doubt celebrating being free, before it eventually came to a stop a few metres away and floated, still, on top of the water.

“Lo siento,” Ona grimaced, biting her lip in embarrassment. She half expected Lucy to growl at her, but instead the other woman’s face split open in a wide grin, and she let out a laugh.

“That was one of funniest things I think I’ve seen in my entire fishing career.”

Ona glared playfully at the English defender before picking up a paddle. “We should go retrieve it, no?”

Lucy nodded and picked up the other paddle, the two of them slowly steering their boat towards Ona’s rod. Soon they were almost close enough to reach it, but suddenly Ona stopped her movements and frowned at something in the water just ahead of them. Lucy turned to look quizzically at her fellow defender, and nudged Ona in the side when she saw the slightly worried expression her face.

“Lucia… is that.. a shark?” Ona squeaked out, pointing at a grey shape that lurked in the distance.

Lucy squinted, trying to gauge what it was, but Ona had already begun to panic a bit, despite the fact that sharks were most likely not residing in a random lake in Barcelona.

“I don’t think-” Lucy managed to squeeze out but Ona had already snatched the rod out of the water and was now frantically moving her paddle as quickly as possible.

“I don’t care! Row, please Lucy,” the smaller woman begged, sending Lucy such a look of genuine fear that the Lioness just bit back a smile and placed her own paddle into the water to guide them back to shore.

Once they two of them had made it safely back onto land with Ona looking slightly green with fear and motion sickness (“Lucy, I’m not kidding it was a shark!”), the Spanish fullback took a few steps on shaky legs before collapsing into Lucy’s side, who wrapped her arm around the other woman’s waist to prevent her from falling over.

“Not a very successful trip, huh?” the English woman spoke, gesturing to their very empty cooler where the fish they caught was supposed to go.

“No, but at least we were not eaten,” Ona replied before checking her watch and looking back hopefully at Lucy. “I have 3 hours before my brother will be over, so would you want to go out for something to eat?”

“Well, considering the fact that we are currently fishless, and I don’t want to starve, I will accept.” With that, the pair made their way back to Lucy’s car, equipment in hand and chattering the entire way.

“What have you got planned for Bad Date #2? Might be hard to beat this.”

“Just wait and see, Ona. Wait and see…”

---

As soon as Ona stepped foot in the mini golf course and made eye contact with the tacky pirate ship that resided in a murky fake pond, she let out a groan and immediately turned on her heel. Lucy was quick to grab the smaller woman by the shoulders, however, and strong armed her towards the counter, the Lioness wiggling her eyebrows at Ona in amusement.

Saying that Ona hated mini golf was an understatement. She could stomach regular golf from all of the times that her friends had dragged her down to the nearest course, but to shrink the clubs and add on a bunch of screaming children made the experience almost unbearable. Plus, it was hard. No wonder Lucy chose this as a bad date destination.

“Can’t believe you brought me to a mini golf course of all places!” Ona complained, glaring daggers at the brightly colour obstacles scattered about everywhere.

“It’s only mini golf, Ona. The only people who are gonna witness this are like ten,” Lucy laughed while paying at the counter and motioning for the Spanish woman to select a ball colour.

“Well ten year olds can be very mean,” she retorted back, selecting a bright green one and pretending to throw it at her as the English woman pretended to collapse to the floor, wounded. With a yellow ball in hand, Lucy steered her towards the first hole and gestured for the younger woman to go first. “Aye, c’mon. Let’s see if you’re as good at mini golf as you are at football.”

After flipping her the bird and earning a very scandalised gasp from a nearby mother, Ona lined her body up to hit the ball and… missed. Lucy let out a bark of laughter from behind her and Ona turned to shoot her a glare, feeling the heat of embarrassment crawl up her neck as she puffed in annoyance at the English woman’s smirk.

“Forget being a World Cup winner, we’ve got a future mini golf world champion on our hands.”

“Why would they make golf, which is already hard by the way, even smaller?” Ona replied, disgruntled. Lucy, bemused but unsympathetic to her complaints just grinned before yelling “Swing again!”

To Ona’s credit, she did. But unfortunately, her club flew out of her grip and hurtled a few metres away, spinning just clear of a small child who toddled around another hole. Turning back to Lucy, the Catalan saw her bent double in laughter, unable to keep it in after watching Ona fling her club into the air. Seeing Lucy smile caused the corners of Ona’s mouth to turn up slightly, but she quickly tampered down the fondness that had begun to sneak its way into her heart.

“Ha, ha, very funny,” Ona deadpanned while she collected her club, wincing apologetically at the parent of the toddler she almost took out and traipsing back to Lucy who had managed to compose herself.

“How about I give you a hand, aye? So you don’t accidentally maim any more children.”

“I’ll have you know that I didn’t actually hit him,” Ona responded, blowing a rather childish raspberry at Lucy, “but I’ll take you up on your offer.”

She wasn’t too sure what the Lioness had meant by giving her a hand, but as Lucy dropped her own club to the ground and made her way towards Ona, the Spaniard eyed her cautiously. Wrapping her arms around Ona, Lucy let out a huff of laughter as the smaller woman tensed at the unexpected physical contact.

“Here, hold the club like this.” Lucy’s breath tickled the back of Ona’s neck as her warm hands grasped the smaller woman’s and left her slightly breathless, cheeks heating up for what felt like the thousandth time that day. Slowly Ona allowed herself to relax, opening herself up to the other woman’s guidance and moved where Lucy wanted her to stand. She felt herself almost mourn the loss of the fullback’s warmth as she released Ona from her hold, the slight autumn breeze making the lack of her body heat more apparent. Ona could blame her flushed cheeks on the cold, of course, but a feeling stirring in her gut begged to differ.

Shaking herself from those traitorous thoughts, Ona steadied herself to hopefully hit the ball accurately this time, Lucy’s cheers making its way into Ona’s ears.

“Don’t swing as hard as before. Give it a light tap,” came the encouraging advice from the defender, and Ona took a final breath in, not unlike one she’d take before a rare occasion when she would have to convert a penalty kick.

Ona heard the whoosh of the club through the air as she swung before she felt it make hard impact against something solid.

Clearly, she had overestimated the distance Lucy had put between the two of them, and instead of softly hitting the ball like she was advised to, Ona had swung the club back as far as she could, and had ended up smacking Lucy hard in the shin.

“Ow, fuck!” Lucy groaned, clutching her leg. “My legs are literally my money-makers, Ona, and you know my knee is hanging on by a string.”

“¡Dios mío, Luce! Are you alright?” Ona rushed towards her in horror, praying that she hadn’t given the Englishwoman an injury that could cause a premature retirement or one that would leave her benched for months. As the Spaniard bent over to peer at Lucy’s face, Ona could see that it had lit up into a shit-eating grin, the contact not as bad as she had originally thought.

“Ay, don’t scare me like that, idiota!” Ona growled, smacking Lucy on the shoulder as her thundering heart began to slow again.

“For a world-class athlete you sure are clumsy. Almost as bad as Less!” Lucy chuckled as she straightened up, before gesturing for Ona to take a fourth attempt at the ball. “Don’t worry about me, just focus and swing gently.”

“Missing the ball three times, accidentally throwing the club away, and now hurting you will definitely win for worst date ever,” Ona muttered as she went to take the shot, yet again. Her comment was met with a wry smile from Lucy. “That’s what we’re here for, no?”

For the next few hours, the both of them made their way from hole to hole, with Lucy expertly navigating the ball past the obstacles and Ona bumbling her way through them. It was positively infuriating how good Lucy was at everything, but every time she sunk the golf ball into the hole and shot a cocky smirk the Spaniard’s way, Ona’s insides turned to mush. Her own skill only improved marginally, but the more mistakes that were made, the more she and Lucy were able to relax into some comfortable teasing. Somehow, even when faced with the activity of her nightmares, Ona felt as though she was able to get into her stride and even start to enjoy herself a touch.

They were now down to the final hole, and while Lucy had given Ona a very thorough and obvious beating, the Catalan was determined to at least win one round. Whether it be pure, stupid luck, or what Ona will say later was complete and utter skill, the ball rolled into the hole after one single hit. Lucy didn’t care how it happened. All she cared about was that the other woman had actually just gotten a hole in one.

“You fucking did it!” she yelled into Ona’s face, as surprised as every single human being on the course that she had managed to pull that off. Everyone else had, after all, been witness to her poor attempts to golf for the past few hours.

“Sí, I did!” Ona shouted back, but the only thing she could focus on, even in the wake of her own sporting brilliance, was the cheeky sense of pride and fondness that was painted on Lucy’s excited features.

Not dissimilar to how she has done on the pitch, Ona hurled herself at her, Lucy tossing her club to the side in anticipation and catching the Spaniard with an unexpected passion. Tightly gripping her t-shirt, Ona could feel the other fullback’s rippling muscles under her fingertips, and as she gazed into Lucy’s elated face, she had to take a nervous swallow.

Lucy spun Ona’s body around, almost whirling into, but narrowly avoiding a treasure chest that had been bolted into the ground, and the only thing Ona found herself wanting to do was kiss her. So she did.

Even though the Spanish defender had just spent the past few hours humiliating herself in front of Lucy in the worst way possible, the English woman kissed Ona back with a similar joy, warm hands finding their home on the backs of Ona’s thighs. Lucy’s lips were as soft as Ona had always envisioned them to be, and a part of her soul seemed to sigh with contentment at the contact.

For a moment it was like it was only the two of them in the world, the screams of kids, chatter of people, and tweets of birds fading into the background. All Ona could register was the grip Lucy had on her thighs, the way their bodies fit together perfectly - almost like two pieces of a puzzle, and the way Lucy’s tongue teased the seam of her lips, making her head spin deliciously.

Soon they both had to draw back from the kiss, air becoming a necessity, and Ona leant her forehead against Lucy’s with a smile. After a few beats, the Lioness buried her face into her neck, and Ona felt Lucy’s mouth curve into a grin.

“My champion.”

Those two simple words had Ona’s heart beating a million times faster, and Lucy laughed at the feeling, but as she mindlessly walked them backwards, she lost her footing and sent the both of them stumbling gracelessly right into the man-made lake smack bang in the middle of the mini golf course.

The two of them let out a pair of matching god-awful shrieks at the sudden feeling of icy water, but they soon dissolved into peals of laughter at the utter absurdity of what just happened. Blind to the judging stares of the public around them, Lucy sent a small splash Ona’s way, which soon became a fierce splash battle as the Spanish woman - not one to lose a fight - sent tidal wave after tidal wave straight into Lucy’s face.

“Oi, you got that in my bloody mouth!” she groused playfully, and attempted to tackle Ona to the ground, the pair still floundering in the dirty lake. Unluckily, or luckily in the case of everyone else, a disgruntled staff member hauled the both of them rather unceremoniously out of the water and escorted them to Lucy’s car. Turns out Pablo did not care that Ona had won a World Cup before, and slapped the both of them with lifetime bans. If Ona celebrated the fact that she could never be dragged back to play mini golf again, then that was no one’s business but hers.

Despite being sopping wet in the middle of a carpark, Lucy in Ona’s eyes looked positively radiant. Droplets of water shone on her eyelashes, and her shirt clung to her body, showcasing every curve and harsh ridge of her musculature. There was no denying that she was mouth-wateringly attractive, nose ring glinting in the sun and lips turned up in a cocky smirk. Her eyes had also started to carry out their own appraisal of Ona’s shorter figure, and she shifted awkwardly from foot to foot at the way Lucy’s hazel eyes seemed to pierce into her soul. Her intense gaze made Ona feel as if the Lioness could peer into the very depths of her psyche, and quite frankly, that kind of intimacy scared her a little.

“What a, how do you say? What a freaking disaster,” Ona spoke, a timid attempt to break the heightening tension between the two of them.

“Guess I delivered on my promise on a second horrific date,” came the response, but they both knew that was far from the truth. The older woman’s dimpling smile and shining eyes undid all of her efforts to make that a bad date, and in a rare moment of honesty, Ona allowed herself to accept, if only for a moment, that she was falling in love with Lucy Bronze.

Following her small hum of agreement, they both fell silent again, just taking in each other’s presence. Ona tried to dull the burst of emotion that had welled up in her, but Lucy’s hand cupping her jaw and brushing away a stray smear of mud caused the Catalan’s breath to hitch and sent her efforts flying out of the window. Heart pounding unbearably fast, Ona broke away from her grasp and heard Lucy let out a sigh. “Gotta get you home now. It’s bloody cold.”

Ona nodded at her words and they both slipped into Lucy’s car, Ona apologising profusely for drenching and muddying the English woman’s car seat. The ride back was nice, the conversation light-hearted and easy, however it was impossible to deny the suffocating tension hanging in the air between them. As they pulled up to Ona’s house, Lucy turned to face her, and Ona noticed her gripping the steering wheel tightly.

“Guess you’re ready to go out and date new people now, huh?” Lucy spoke, a tinge of sadness lacing her words despite the small smile she shot Ona’s way. The Spanish fullback sent back a half-hearted grin back. “I guess so.”

The car was silent for a second. “I think I should be getting inside. I’ve got a meeting tomorrow.”

The only thing Lucy could do was say a quick “see you later” before Ona clambered out of the car and made her way to her front door. Pausing, Ona turned back to look at the car and caught a glimpse of Lucy staring at her with an unreadable expression on her face. It was only after she had let herself in that Ona finally heard Lucy’s car pull away from her house, and she finally allowed herself to collapse against the door, countless thoughts running through her head.

She was well and truly fucked.

It had been two weeks since her mini golf ‘date’ with Lucy, and Ona was just about to embark on her first proper date in literal years. As she stared at her own reflection in the mirror, Ona couldn’t help but mourn the fact that her feelings towards the English fullback were likely to remain unresolved. Things between her and Lucy had been rather stilted after that day, the only words exchanged being as mundane as asking for the time or to pass the salt. Truthfully Ona felt kind of hurt at Lucy’s indifference, but in all fairness, she hadn’t exactly tried to talk about that kiss either and instead had opted to ignore her, so it wasn’t fair to put the blame on Lucy. Maybe Ona was just doomed to be alone forever.

Shooting a glance at the clock and seeing that it was time to go, Ona swiftly brushed her hands once more over her outfit, checked her makeup, and grabbed her keys before heading out to the restaurant.

The girl Ona was going on a date with, Elena, was a friend of Alexia’s girlfriend, and her captain was adamant that this was a match made in heaven. Smart, funny, and a passionate Real Madrid hater, Alexia had also mentioned that Elena was accustomed to hanging around with footballers, so Ona didn’t have to worry that she was trying to date her for her five minutes of fame which was something that Alexia too has had some experience with.

The initial part of the date was nice, Ona thought, both of them just getting the small talk out of the way and getting to know each other, the two of them bonding over their shared love of a musical artist. The food was adequate as well, and much to Ona’s relief, Elena did not have an allergic reaction to the shrimp, nor did she bring her mother along like Bruna’s horror date. Things only took a turn when Elena hit her with a completely unexpected question.

“Who is she?” Elena spoke, “The girl you’re in love with.” Her query caught Ona incredibly off guard, and the only thing she could get out was an awkward stammered denial, which she knew was thoroughly unconvincing to even the most gullible of people. The expression on the other woman’s face wasn’t angry however, instead a soft look of sympathy painting her face as she placed a hand over the footballer’s.

A beat passed before Ona hung her head and decided to spill her guts to her date. “She’s my teammate at Barcelona and I’m pretty sure I ruined it because I’m so awkward. We kissed and then I ignored her the day afterwards which means that she definitely hates me, and not only have I lost my chance with her but I’ve also lost her as my friend, and now we are going to lose all of our games and then the Champions League because I think that if I have to go on the pitch with her again I will throw up. She even made me have fun mini golfing and everyone on Earth knows that mini golf es el deporte del diablo and that I absolutely despise it with my entire being... except for when I was playing it with her.”

Elena thoughtfully listened to Ona small spiel before offering her a gentle smile.

“I know I don’t know her, or the extent of your situation, but something tells me that she won’t be opposed to your affections. My advice? Go find her. Tell her how you feel. The worst thing she could do is reject you, and from the little that I’ve heard, she definitely won’t do that.”

“You really think so?” Ona said, feeling a little hopeful at her words.

“I do.”

“Okay.”

Ona sat there awkwardly until Elena laughed and motioned for her to get up. “What are you still doing here? Go!”

“Now?”

“Sí, now!”

Taking in a shuddering breathe, Ona strengthened her resolve and stood from her seat, slightly more invigorated. “Okay, I will. And I’m sorry for running out on you like this.”

“Ay, not the worst date I’ve been on. Good luck out there,” she grinned, and Ona felt a sense of overwhelming appreciation for the woman across from her. Maybe in another life they could have become something, but right now, all she wanted was Lucy.

“Gracias. Truly,” Ona responded before slapping several bills down on the table. “Dinner is on me by the way.” And then she was hightailing it out of the restaurant.

Ona found herself pounding on Lucy’s door before she had even registered that she had no idea what she was even going to say to her. A wave of doubt passed through the Spaniard as she wrung her hands on the doorstep, and thoughts of escaping to the comfort of her own home to down a tub of ice cream were getting increasingly more enticing. Those plans were short-lived however, because the door swung open and revealed Lucy who stared at her, her hazel eyes wide in surprise.

“Hola.”

She wanted to smack herself for that stupid opener, but Ona refrained from doing so as she could have sworn that she saw a corner of the defender’s mouth tilt upwards. Maybe all was not lost.

“Hola,” Lucy responded, and was quiet after that, silently telling Ona that the ball was in her court.

“You look well.” Nice one.

Lucy smiled properly at that one and decided to put Ona out of her misery a little. “You’re all dressed up. Hot date tonight?”

Ona didn’t miss the way Lucy’s grin became slightly strained at her words and felt a surge of confidence fill her heart, so she decide to take the plunge.

“Sort of. I- Look, Lucia, I’m sorry for how I treated you after our… kiss. I messed up and ignored you for like a week after, so now you probably hate me, and I can not blame you. I know we said that the dates were not real and for me to get over my nerves, but then I couldn’t help but start to pretend that this was real.” Lucy stayed silent, her expression unreadable, but her eyes were shining with something that made Ona’s stomach flutter, and she took that as a sign to keep going.

“The girl I was just out with, Elena, noticed something was off immediately, and so I told her that I love you. Because I do. And if I’m not wrong, then I think you like me too. If you do have feelings for me, I’m so sorry that I didn’t tell you sooner and spared us from all of this pain, because I’ve been stuck in this hole of sadness for the past couple of weeks. So por favor, just tell me that I haven’t missed my chance.”

“I love you too.”

Lucy’s response was quick, her words confident, and to Ona in that moment, she was sure that Lucy was the most beautiful person in the world. The small fly-away hairs that escaped from her bun, the freckles that were dotted across her skin, the stray eyelash that rested on the apple of her cheek, all made a rush of fondness spread throughout Ona’s chest.

With that admission, she tentatively reached out to rest a hand on Lucy’s jaw, and she leaned into Ona’s touch as her arms circled around the smaller woman’s waist.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Lucy breathed. Ona gave her a quick nod.

“I asked you to go on those fake dates hoping that you would give me a proper chance afterwards. I’ve liked you for a long time, you know?” she confessed, leaning in to brush her nose against Ona’s skin.

“You could’ve just said something instead of subjecting me to sharks and mini golf,” came Ona’s reply, but her tone held nothing but fond amusement.

“I still don’t think that was a shark,” Lucy, eyes crinkling in laughter as she thought back to Ona’s panicked paddling at the lake.

“I’m telling you, I saw a fin!” the younger woman protested, but there was no real fight in it, Ona long having accepted that she may have overreacted a touch. That didn’t mean she wanted to give Lucy the satisfaction of being right, though.

“So, how does Elena rank on the scale of bad dates. You must be an expert after both of ours, so gimme a number from one to ten. Spare no gory details,” Lucy smirked, her hands creeping up to place themselves firmly on Ona’s face, lips within a hair’s breadth away from the Spaniard’s.

“I think that was the worst date I’ve ever been on, because it wasn’t with you.” And hearing those words, Lucy kissed her.

#lucy bronze x ona batlle #ona batlle x lucy bronze #lucy bronze #ona batlle #woso fanfics #woso imagines #my fics

152 notes · View notes

tadc-harlequin-au · 2 months ago

Note

Heyyyy I need to know what Swap!Harlequin Pomni's living situation is, and how her Caine fits into it... No reason in particular..

(Totally not for a fic I'm cooking, not at alllll)

Her living situation is the fact that I was thinking: she's living in a large underground hideout (one of those war bunkers) hidden inside a broken down shed that sat abandoned for years until roleswap!Pomni and Abel found it and repurposed it for themselves. Since they're on the run, they can't exactly risk on staying on a big mansion like Harlequin!Caine does in the canon story.

On the surface, it looks like a very dilapidated bunker entrance and opening the surface entrance door would lead to an "unstable" walkway down that had seemingly collapsed in on itself, but if you were able to put in the effort of moving the "debris" out of the way, You'd realize that it's actually just a coverup to make sure the place never gets explored beyond the "collapsed" walkway. How is this coverup possible? One of Pomni's many magic tricks.

Opening the inner door and hopping onto the open elevator with barely any protective railings on it, it's layers upon layers of rooms, and there's a small open space in the middle of it all, with a tall high beam support connecting the layers to ensure that the place doesn't collapse in on itself. Caine likes to use these beams as like an obstacle course of sorts for getting up and down.

This is a rough layout on how I think it'd be, not the final look obvs but it is a start that I can improve on later down the line

There's a number of 'broken-but-still-kicking' Puppets living in this space, all being taken care of and attempted to be fixed back into their prime to give them a shot at living a life that was robbed from them. Not exactly in tip top shape, but hey. At the very least, they have a safe space away from their abusive masters, and the duo never claimed they were good at this kind of thing anyways.

Pomni does have an office, but it's significantly smaller, very homely and she doesn't spend as much time in there unless it's wanting a small enclosed space to simply smoke in, thinking of a gameplan for their current situation or figuring out what to do for the day, and the day after that. Even more surprising is the fact that Caine likes this area the most and stays in there for extended periods of time, whether Pomni is in or not. He's in a calmer state when that happens, so Pomni lets him be.

Speaking of Caine, how does he fit into all this? He just does. He's actually not as energetic as Harlequin!Pomni, being an Assassin Harlequin instead of an active fighter; he's much more toned down and surprisingly well-behaved in the grand scheme, if at all irritated at the entire situation and how he had let his guard down enough to be roped into her mess. Passive-aggressive and speaks in a low tone like he's constantly judging, which he is lmfao.

... But that doesn't mean he doesn't ask for a target Puppet to locate, capture and bring back (if he can't kill them lol) to be inaugurated to Pomni's cause. He's still acting on directives like a normal Puppet would.

He does find out one day that he has a knack for making/fixing mechanical things, after finding Abel's pathetic attempt to reverse engineer an old mechanical wonder. This newfound passion of his could occupy him for hours (or days usually) on end, and frankly? it's nice to have peace and quiet instead of him going off on her ear about how the whole place is a damn OSHA violation completely.

Even goes to the extent that he knows the ins and outs of a Puppet body like an expert surgeon would with the body of their patient, which... Pomni finds quite interesting because as far as she knows, there's only one person in her eyes who could be a natural at something like that.

#thanks for the ask!#tadc #tadc au #harlequin au #tadc harlequin au #the amazing digital circus #tadc harlequin roleswap au #pomni #caine #tadc abel

46 notes · View notes

campbyler · 4 months ago

Note

our chapters average at 27,000 words, the total fic length is already 3x the average novel length, and we lost one of the authors working on this fic. it must be so nice to only have to endure the wait for a chapter to be uploaded so that you can interact with it rather than being the one to actually write it.

im going to be cruel (no pun intended) to be kind: this is such an intense externalisation of blame. you are the ones in control of the fic length; the chapters could handle some heavy editing and it wouldnt make them any less wonderful (such as regarding the descriptions of mike and will's internal thoughts, not the action between the characters themselves). fic is free and its a gift to be able to read works that inspire our hearts and minds while we wait for the show, but then again, when at the stern of a juggernaut work such as this, one that will inevitably have many followers chomping at the bit on tumblr as well as ao3 (as you designed it to have!), you surely must be aware of something that only usually exists in professional marketing spaces involving customers + brand IP: the relationship between consumer and creator, and what they can give each other.

not 'owe each other' - nothing is owed, except perhaps basic human kindness. fans want your work, and its free, so we should be grateful; likewise, you want readers, feedback and clicks, and that should be free, too. but in order for this to work smoothly, there has to be fair give and take. i mean, if you wanted to monetize the fic i'm sure many people would pay to read it, but thats beside the point here.

what fans of this fic simply want is the same honesty and self-awareness from you that they might expect from any artist who has embarked on such am ambitious project. and this doesnt just mean transparency about potential uploading dates (which is already much appreciated by the majority!), or notifications about how hard it is to balance work and life (something most people on the planet struggle with). it means total honesty and hard answers. people like to know where they stand. plenty of writers (both professional and fan alike) abandon works for months, years at a time, and if the work is THAT good, people will always be thrilled to see a return. it's the mucking people about that is what destroys relationships - no matter how good your reasons are.

your fic is wonderful and very, very memorable. you could take a big, undefined hiatus and people would, im sure, return, including me. seeing you admit that you have been prioritizing this fic over your mental health does not inspire confidence either, or even comfort - do i want to read something that has caused the creator such harm?

i think everything about this process would be happier for everyone if you set boundaries that work for you and didn't place blame elsewhere. after all, as you said, it's just a fanfic. it doesnt matter if you don't finish it. it doesnt matter if it takes all the way to s5 for 10.2 to release. everyone would, though, appreciate you taking a stance and being consistent (and therefore fair) to both yourselves and the readers.

please feel free to not post this publicly or do as you wish with it.

hello! thank you for your feedback and for sharing it in a way that is both kind and respectful. you make many valid points that i agree with -- we are in control of the word counts and could stand to edit down more, and we do recognize where being transparent about the reasons behind the chapter delays might not inspire confidence or comfort. i do, however, think that isolating one response/chain of responses to a particular ask is a little unfair, so i'd like to provide additional context.

i do not think that it's fair to say that we haven't been honest, self-aware, or fair, because we have been incredibly transparent throughout the entire run of the fic (over a year) about our writing process. just last month suni said she hadn't been working on 10.2 at all because abby had been visiting her house, and readily took ownership of that fact. there was a 4-month wait between chapters 9.1 and 9.2, and i was very open about the fact that i simply needed a break for at least the first of those months because i didn't want to write it. we have continued to maintain several times that we are not abandoning the fic, even if it takes longer between chapters, and have tried to stay as active as possible on the blog because we know that seeing us interact with asks Does inspire confidence. if you just scroll down and see how we have answered other asks inquiring about the upload, we responded kindly and respectfully.

what you interpreted as externalization of blame in that one (1!) ask response was me trying to provide perspective to someone who clearly lacked it. we understand that people will be frustrated about chapter delays, especially if we keep pushing them back, and this is also something that we have received feedback about before and tried to implement; however, it is also a double-edged sword where if we don't give an estimated upload, people get upset, or we give an estimated upload that we think is completely reasonable for us to achieve and then hurdles get in the way, whether it's writer's block or work or time with friends. i absolutely get the frustration on the receiving end, but something i have learned from being in this fandom for two years is that a pretty big majority of those who are interacting with fanworks are not creating it themselves, hence why my response -- while snippy and annoyed, because i was matching the energy, and will not apologize for that -- was contextualizing the whys behind the chapter delay: the chapters are long, the fic is long, we are down one entire body from where we started. the intention was not to shuck blame off of ourselves, but i get that intentions don't always translate into effect, so it's understandable that it was received differently.

we don't always respond to things perfectly. when we have a million and one asks inquiring about the next upload, one stray one that comes off the wrong way is likely going to set us off, because we are people, and this is not a job. we have set a boundary by disabling anon, and again, i cannot stress enough how much i appreciate that you've come to us with this feedback off-anon and with respect and decency. i get where you are coming from and again, agree with a lot of your points.

the only other thing i want to make clear is that this fic, no matter how much attention its garnered, should not be treated as a creator/consumer relationship that mirrors anything where the exchange of money is involved. not only is it unfair to apply this standard to fanworks, where it is illegal to monetize such content, but the entire purpose of fanworks is to celebrate what you are a fan of together. when you apply expectations on either end -- i am a fan of this work, therefore, people should create timely content for it; i am creating this fanwork, therefore, people should interact with it -- defeats the entire nature of fan-created work as a whole. while we have continued to be vocally grateful for the love and support our fic has been shown, we both maintain that we would continue writing and continue uploading even if we were getting less than half of the amount of interaction that we do. it's nice to have interaction, but not necessary, because we what write and post is done because we love it, and it's shared so that we can look back on it, so our friends can enjoy it, and anyone else who might want to. we are, of course, excited to share that world with anyone who cares -- we created the blog and the promo because we wanted to share it -- but that does not mean that the relationship between us and our readers should have expectations. we are all creating and enjoying this work for free for the sake of love for the characters, as the star trek obsessed housewives of the 60s (and the law) have intended.

i feel like this response is a bit jumbled so i apologize if anything isn't clear or hard to understand. thank you again for your time!

#asks

60 notes · View notes

franklyimissparis · 11 months ago

Note

hi there can i ask what are your favourite fics??

ahhhhhh this was so hard to narrow down since i think i have something like 300 beatles fics bookmarked on ao3 (plus a ton saved from livejournal but i’ve only included ao3 ones here). at first i was gonna pick a top 5 or top 10 but that was too hard so here are my top 24-ish i think? could have picked a lot more tbh. i only included fics that are completed, even though there are a lot i love that are either WIP or abandoned. also didn’t include any modern AUs though there’s a lot of those that i love as well! if anyone has any specific requests for other fic reqs i’m always happy to suggest more :)

on our way back home by kathleenishereagain

this fic has the most kudos in the fandom for a reason! old paul time travels back to the touring days and his relationship with john changes from there. love the way they integrated the magical realism into this and it’s just such a beautiful, touching story.

knowing that the sun is there by tarenas

john comes out after brian dies. lovely look at john’s individual relationships with all of the beatles and cynthia (but especially his relationship with paul of course)

cutting water with a knife by savageandwise

may’s perspective on john and paul. love love love. heartbreakingly realistic and so poignant. feels like it could have been a cut chapter out of loving john.

i’m so tired, my mind is set on you by dornfelder

god how i wish this is what would have happened in india. i’ve read this fic so many times, it just feels so real i keep coming back to it.

india, actually by inspiteallthedanger

jane notices that john’s india tapes are all of paul a la love actually. love jane in this and paul and john’s dynamic is great.

grow old with me by inherownwrite

john and paul in scotland in the 80s - paul breaks his arm and gives john a fright. such a tender picture of what could have been had things not ended how they did.

i was a younger man then (now) (post hoc) by fingersfallingupwards

using the time traveller’s wife premise in quite literally the best way i have ever read. the way it unfolds is…. stunning.

having coffee by dornfelder

old paul and john reflecting on life and being outed in the 80s through an interview. lovely.

to lead a better life by downtothelastdrop

1966 ringo mistakenly thinks john and paul are together, leading to a revelation of paul’s own.

going nowhere by inspiteallthedanger

fix-it where after surviving the shooting, john moves back to england.

if i could choose my own name, it’d be the one that falls best from your lips by kandakicksass

one of my favourite reincarnation fics ever. i really enjoyed how simple it was, how the pieces just slid into place so naturally.

the birthday party by merseydreams

everyone reunites for ringo’s 40th in july 1980. an excellent look at the dynamic between all the bugs and how things could have gone.

something old something new by inspiteallthedanger

john shows up to pattie and eric’s wedding causing a beatles reunion for the first time in years and some shenanigans and talks with paul. this fic is hilarious and THIS is my george, i love him so much

1967 by please_dont_wake_me

paul and john stay in paris after their 1961 trip. they return to liverpool in 1967 as a couple. this feels so real, the way every minor character is written… the dynamics between them all - every detail is excellent.

the beatles holiday au series by econhomework

an AU that follows john and paul (and george/ringo) being a committed couple in the 60s/70s and having their children via surrogacy. i’ve been subscribed to this series for years now and it’s a lot of fun getting an update that builds upon the last around every holiday, giving a little snippet into their lives as the kids grow up chronologically. (they also have other fics set in this AU in their beatles fic requests series)

the brother dearest series by javelinbk

jim and mimi get married, causing john and paul to become step-brothers (sort of). interesting premise and an even better execution of it. not to mention the idea of jim and mimi getting together will never fail to make me laugh (but also sort of makes a lot of sense???)

how much was mine to keep by mynamesbetty

paul is ‘unstuck in time’ and lives his life out of order a la slaughterhouse five (one of my favourite novels). done very well.

take a sad song and make it better by javelinbk

1980s paul moves his ex-boyfriend into his house because he’s an idiot but i love him. great fix-it.

christmas lights (keep shinin’ on) by distinguished_like

paul invites john to the mccartney family christmas party, leading to some discussions between the two. very cute early years fic.

here today by herspecialagent005

december 1980 except john and paul are hosting a dinner party for some friends in scotland, with magical realism elements. ugh loved this so much, especially linda and just all the little details of john and paul settling into a life together.

kissing the blarney by tikk

paul is the blarney - this turns into a superstitious ritual in the band which emotionally complicates things but ends very satisfyingly.

writing letters (on my wall) by 15clubsaday

70s paul writes to john under a pseudonym while they aren’t speaking. newly finished and wonderful!

the jumper by merseydreams

john sees denny laine wearing HIS jumper and flies back to england to retrieve it. this fic has everything: miscommunication, john being a dumb shite, jealousy, confused denny laine, paul in all his 70s glory, and lesbian linda. truly could not ask for more.

back to where you belong by sleeprettydarling

george on johnandpaul throughout the early years. i’m a big sucker for the george & johnandpaul dynamic and how complicated and devastating it can be so naturally i loved this.

#sorry this is so long anon! but thanks for the ask hope you found some new fics to check out! :)#asks #mclennon #beatles fic #john and paul #beatles rpf #john lennon #paul mccartney #the beatles

160 notes · View notes

honey-beann · 1 year ago

Note

Sooo does this mean we can get some nines fluff? plssss?

Sweet, and Soft, and Gentle

Nines x Reader

Well, this certainly isn't the fluffiest thing I've ever written, but here's a little fic that I wrote randomly last night because I am weak to whatever the hell this trope is haha. I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 1,643

The front desk assistant walked quickly into the bullpen, looking a little bit nervous as he cleared his throat slightly, catching the attention of everyone there as he did so (much to his chagrin).

Today was his very first day without the desk manager present after she had called out sick, and of course that also had to be the day that an unexpected visitor with an almost unbelievable reason for coming in waltzed her way into the office, asking for someone that the poor assistant had never once heard anyone ask for before.

So now, here he was, walking as quickly as he could without causing alarm in an attempt to stay ahead of you so that he had the opportunity to ask the many precinct workers if they happened to know anyone by your name.

Sure, you had requested one man in particular, but he just couldn't imagine what someone like you could ever need someone like him for, so he opted instead to announce your presence to the entire room in hopes of someone you actually knew telling him that it was okay if you came in to visit without a supervising attendee present.

"Sorry to bother you guys, but I have someone by the name of-"

"Nines?"

Your voice was a little quiet and hesitant as you spoke, as if you were worried you might be in the wrong place.

Immediately, all eyes shifted from the front desk assistant to you, including a pair of steely gray orbs that had notably not been watching the man standing at the front of the room prior to your voice being heard.

To everyone's surprise, the android who went by the very same name you had spoken stood up, abandoning his coat on the back of his chair, which he left two entire feet away from his desk as he made his way over to you.

And that alone was a shock.

Nines was the office neat freak, and regardless of weather, when he moved away from his desk he always put that jacket of his on, no matter how brief the trip away would be.

And to leave his chair out of place?

It was almost unthinkable to imagine he would do something like that. Hell, he even begrudgingly pushed Gavin's in when the detective left it sitting away from his desk.

But here Nines was, walking toward you, a stranger to damn near everyone in the office, as if nothing else in the world ever had or ever would matter more.

You let out what appeared to be a sigh of relief at the man's approach, smiling tiredly up at him as he offered you a faint grin, one that touched his eyes far more than it did his lips.

"Button."

He said as he grew closer, causing nearly the entire office to look around at one another in surprise.

Had Nines just used a pet name?

You blushed a bit but took a few steps forward, meeting the android closer than you would have otherwise as he reached down to cup the side of your cheek, allowing you to lean into his touch contentedly.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of this sudden visit?"

He asked gently, causing you to shrug your shoulders a bit in response, cheeks still pink with embarrassment.

"I uh, I had to make a delivery next door and thought I would pop in to say hi, but then I learned that I wasn't actually on your guest list yet so I tried to back out of it, except I didn't want anyone at the desk to think I was just some weirdo who had been trying to get in randomly so I decided to ask if someone could escort me in to say hello... Kind of a dumb idea in retrospect..."

You sighed, gaze cast downward as the android in front of you raised a brow at your words, clearly confused about something, but more than patient enough to allow you to finish your thought.

"I'm sorry for bothering you at work."

You continued softly, refusing to make eye contact with Nines until he tutted and used two of his fingers to lightly push your chin upward, all but forcing you to look him in the eye as he spoke.

"Listen to me, Button."

He said almost sternly, though his eyes were alight with a slightly smug amusement,

"You're never a bother."

You sputtered a bit at the kindness of the android's words, but had very little time to reply before Nines was turning towards the desk assistant.

"Why couldn't you find her on my accepted visitors list? Is the system down?"

He asked, his tone full of a nearly unkind sternness far different from the one he had regarded you with as he spoke.

The assistant blanched.

"To be honest Detective, I never checked... During my training I was told that you never got visitors, so I had assumed that you just didn't allow for them..."

Nines scoffed, turning his attention back towards you, expression as apologetic and soothing as ever,

"It was only a misunderstanding."

He said gently, tucking a few loose strands of hair behind your ear as he glanced back toward the desk assistant,

"One that I am sure will be remedied in the future."

That sentence was damn near growled, and the assistant was quick to nod before rushing off under the guise of work.

Strange, considering his lunch break was only three minutes away.

Nines however, could not have cared less about how much he had undoubtedly frightened the young man, and instead leaned forward, bumping his forehead lightly against your own as he sighed, murmuring a quiet apology before you shook your head and stood on your toes in order to press a sweet kiss against his lips.

Nines seemed a bit surprised at this, but grinned nonetheless, reaching an arm around your back and using it to tug you closer before he gently applied a downward pressure, urging you to stand normally as he leaned further forward to better accommodate for the height difference the two of you shared.

The entire room watched on in awe save for a few pairs of exasperated eyes, which remained mostly trained on the screens in front of them.

But to everyone else, this was far too jarring to even imagine looking away from.

It just didn't make sense.

You were sweet and soft and oh so gentle, everything a city like Detroit could've eaten up and spat out in a second.

And Nines was well...

Nines.

Even those who were closest to him would call him unyielding at best, and occasionally outright cruel at worst.

No one had ever seen him bend to the will of anything.

So why was he quite literally bending down to press his lips to yours as you all but melted into his touch, obviously soothed by his typically threatening presence?

The entire precinct watched on in shock as you smiled against the rk900's lips, pulling away after a few seconds to plant a gentle kiss to the very tip of his nose as he chuckled quietly, his eyes rolling ever so slightly in a way that made it obvious how much he enjoyed your foolish expression of adoration.

"You have a very interesting way of saying hello, little one."

Nines said softly, his hand moving to cup the back of your head as he regarded you with amusement, eyes following the gentle curve of your smile lovingly.

You blushed a bit, but couldn't help but grow giddy beneath his gaze, mouth opening slightly to comment,

"Are you not a fan?"

You asked, watching as Nines all but scoffed before shaking his head,

"No, I think I prefer the way you go about things presently over anything else you might come up with."

He teased before planting a soft kiss against your forehead and pulling away, glancing towards the bullpen full of officers and detectives who were staring shamelessly at the two of you.

Usually, he would roll his eyes, or even laugh if he caught the entire room watching him like that, but this time he ignored them completely, glancing down at you and offering his arm before speaking again.

"How about I take you out to lunch to make up for all of the confusion, hmm little one? Make coming to visit a little bit more worthwhile?"

You grinned and nodded in response, grabbing his arm and taking a few steps towards the exit alongside him when you suddenly stopped, gasping lightly as you realized that Nines was missing something he would typically consider important.

"Your jacket!"

You announced, dashing over to the garment before knocking the chair it had been hanging on back into the spot against his desk with your hip thoughtlessly, your smile dangerously close to contagious for all who watched as you rushed back to the man who remained standing near the doorway, amusement evident in his expression.

"Thank you, Button."

He said genuinely as you grew closer, holding his familiar white jacket out to him,

"Whatever would I do without you?"

You laughed cheerily at that, and everyone watched as you took Nines' arm once more, walking out of the building and into the warm afternoon air side by side.

The room was silent for a few moments afterward, before murmurs began breaking out around the office, until finally everything got quiet again after Gavin piped up rather loudly,

"Who the hell was that?!"

He shouted, a confusion that nearly everyone in the room shared evident in his tone.

But still, not everyone had been left in the dark, and three men sitting at their respective desks spoke up in accidental unison to prove it, all of them sounding mildly exasperated and reasonably amused.

"His wife."

#dbh x reader #c: nines #nines x reader #rk900 x reader #dbh nines x reader #dbh fics #dbh x reader fluff

181 notes · View notes

hungermakesmonsters · 1 year ago

Text

Catch Me If You Can

Chapter Thirteen

Plot summary : When your friend interviews for a position at Anvil, you have a chance encounter with Billy Russo. He takes you for coffee and, by the time you’re done, Billy decides he’s anything but done with you.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R

Chapter Rating : PG

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] This chapter contains very vague mentions of an unhealthy relationship (Billy/Krista) and a sibling death. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.

Word Count : ~4.7k

A/N : This is set a week or so after the last chapter after the last chapter. Thanks to everyone still reading this, I'm honestly overwhelmed by how many of you are following this week after week. I've hit 83 subscribers now and I'm at such a loss for words. Thanks for being awesome.

Chapter Thirteen

To his credit, Billy left you alone, giving you the time that you had asked for. But the longer you went without hearing from him, the more you found yourself staring at your phone, longing for it to ring or light up with a message from him. Selfishly, you wanted him to fight for you, even though you’d asked him not to. You’d told him you needed time and he was giving it to you, so it wasn’t fair for you to feel disappointed. But you did and, the more time that passed, the more it felt like things were over.

And it hurt - it hurt more than you could describe. It was exactly what you’d been afraid of, the sort of pain that only Billy could cause. He hadn’t just become a part of your life, he’d taken over it, he’d become everything in such a short amount of time. You’d let yourself get too attached, too fast, and now you felt ridiculous. It had only been a few weeks. It shouldn’t hurt so much, but the longer you left it, the more certain you were that Billy had given up on you. And that thought hurt more than anything else.

It hurt because you didn’t know if he was hurting.

It hurt because some part of you wanted him to hurt, for him to feel what you were feeling.

(It hurt because you were worried that he was hurting and that he felt like you’d abandoned him.)

And, the worst part? You still hadn’t come to terms with anything that had happened, why you’d walked out in the first place. You didn’t want to come to terms with it, you didn’t even want to think about it. There was a reason you wanted to keep the past buried. You’d fought so hard against being with Billy because you’d known that there would be moments where you couldn’t keep your past separate without letting something slip. And, now, Billy had some idea of what you’d been through - and how were you supposed to even start to explain it to him?

After a week, you’d all but given up. It was done, over. Billy was out of your life and you were sure you’d both be better for it.

“So - you and Billy, that’s over now?” Karen asked with all the tact of a sledgehammer as she sat across from you, placing your drink in front of you.

She’d asked you out, told you it was to do with work, but you should have guessed that the topic of you and Billy was going to come up. At least she didn’t sound upset or surprised that you’d broken things off with her friend.

“I guess? I don’t know,” you shrugged awkwardly, gaze dropping to the drink in front of you. “Did he tell you that it was?”

“No, Frank put it together when Billy started turning up at Anvil hungover.”

You first thought was worry, but that quickly became something else the more you thought about it. Hangovers meant that he’d been spending his nights drinking, and Billy never struck you as the type to drink alone. And, if he wasn’t drinking alone, he probably wasn’t going home alone either.

You’d spent a week worrying and pining over him, and he’d probably had someone new in his bed only a few hours after you’d left him.

“What happened?” She asked, breaking the silence that you’d allowed to fall.

“It wasn’t going to work out,” you forced yourself to look at her and the look she shot you told you that she wasn’t satisfied with that answer.

“What did he do?”

“Nothing, it’s not -” a heavy sigh slipped out and you reached for your beer, “- there was something I didn’t want to tell him and it kinda came out in an argument, and we both overreacted. And, now everything’s a mess and I just - I think he’ll be better off without me.”

“I don’t think Frank’d agree; he’s babysitting Billy tonight, says he’s never seen him like this before.” It wasn’t her intention to hurt you, but it did hurt.

“I’m sure there’s plenty of other women out there that’ll make him feel better,” you muttered, not even trying to cover the bitterness in your tone.

“I don’t think that’s what Billy wants anymore...” she answered back before taking a drink.

As much as you wanted to ask what she meant, as much as you wanted to indulge the little spark of hope that had lit itself in your chest, you knew that dragging things out would only lead to more pain.

“Look, I - I’m sorry, but I really don’t want to talk about it,” you finally told her as firmly, but politely as possible. “You said you wanted to talk about work?”

Karen took a moment, and you could tell there was more she wanted to say, but the discomfort on your face was enough to convince her not to.

“One of our photographers was supposed to be taking some maternity leave in a couple of months, but she decided that she doesn’t want to come back after. I just thought that, if you wanted, I could put your name forward for the job?”

“You mean I’d be working for The Bulletin full-time?”

“Yeah, it’d be a full salaried position.”

“I, uh -” despite everything else you were feeling, you felt your lips pull into an awkward sort of smile, though you tried not to get too excited about the idea, “- that would be amazing, thank you.”

Karen reiterated the fact that it wasn’t an actual offer of a job just yet, that she still needed to get her boss onboard with it, but she seemed hopeful that she’d be able to convince him - after all, you’d always done good work for them in the past.

The mood shifted after that; you had more drinks and played some pool with Karen and a couple of guys that she used to work with; Matt and Foggy, who’d turned up at the bar an hour or so after you and Karen. And it was fun, it was nice - and, after the week of misery that you’d been through, it felt good to stop thinking about Billy.

But every time you saw Karen looking at her phone, you couldn’t stop yourself from imagining that she was talking to Frank, and Frank was telling her about Billy. And, eventually, it became too much to bear. You didn’t want to keep pretending that he didn’t exist. So, you pulled your phone out and found yourself staring at one of the last messages he’d sent you.

I never knew I could miss someone so much.

Your heart ached and you knew that you couldn’t keep dragging things out, that your silence wasn’t fair to either of you.

I know it’s probably not worth anything now, but I just want you to know that I’m sorry how things turned out. I never meant to hurt you.

Less than a minute after you hit send, he started to type, as if he’d been staring at his phone just waiting for you to text. It started and then stopped over and over again, you held your breath, not sure you were going to like whatever it was that he had to say.

Don’t be sorry. You did nothing wrong.

He finally answered and you kept staring at your phone, hoping, wanting more for him. But, after five minutes, there was still nothing besides that one little message. You waited another minute before replying;

Are you okay?

You weren’t sure whether or not you expected an answer - he was probably busy, probably having fun without you.

Fine.

It took less than twenty seconds for him to answer. Okay, so not too busy having fun, but his short responses made it seem like he wasn’t all that interested. It felt like you finally had your answer; it was over.

Okay.

Was all you sent in response because you still couldn’t bring yourself to say goodbye. And, then, there was nothing. He read the message but he didn’t even try to reply. After fifteen minutes you couldn’t bear to look at your phone, you just wanted to go home and sleep but Karen and her friends wanted you to stay. It was sweet, really, the way they seemed to want to cheer you up, you just weren’t sure that it was going to help at all. But, still, you stayed and played a few more rounds of pool before Karen’s face dropped.

Following her gaze, you looked towards the door and found Frank and Billy standing there. Frank came closer, but Billy stayed where he was.

“What the hell, Frank?” Karen demanded.

“He wasn’t gonna take no for an answer,” Frank told her, sparing you a glance, “if he can talk to her maybe they can sort their shit out and I won’t have to carry him home again.”

Your stomach knotted, eyes finding Billy again - had he been that bad? He didn’t look great; he looked tired, dishevelled, and like he’d already had a little too much to drink. Not exactly the best conditions for having a serious conversation, but if it was all you were going to get then you were going to have to take it.

“You don’t have to,” Frank started again, this time addressing you, “just say the word and I’ll drag his ass outta here, but I really think you oughta put him out of his misery if you’re done with him.”

You looked at Billy for a second more, his dark eyes fixed on you until you gave a slight nod of your head, motioning towards an empty booth where you could talk. Billy gave the slightest nod in return before starting to move. You heard Karen mutter something but your attention was stuck on Billy who looked like a man walking to his own execution.

Grabbing your drink off the edge of the pool table you headed for the booth, sliding in opposite him.

“Hey,” you offered softly, managing the slightest of smiles. Up close he looked worse than you'd originally thought.

“Hey,”

Then came silence and you quickly realised that he could barely bring himself to even look at you. About thirty seconds passed before he said anything.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” his voice was soft, so quiet that it was almost lost in the noise around you. “When I said I had issues with impulse control, it’s not just sex, it’s - sometimes things just make me feel crazy...”

He trailed off into silence and it quickly became clear that he didn’t even know where to start. So much had happened all at once and you didn’t blame him for not knowing how to talk about it. You weren’t sure either, but you decided to try to help.

“It wasn’t that you scared me - I didn’t think that you’d -” you took an awkward breath, but you didn’t stop, “I know you’d never hurt me like that. But when you said it, I panicked. You were so upset and I couldn’t think, and I just needed some space. I didn’t tell you about the scar because - because I can’t talk about it. I feel like I can’t even breathe when I think about it...”

You weren’t even sure if he understood, or if you were even making sense. Without even realising it, you’d started to tug at the sleeve of your top. Your heart was pounding in your chest and all you wanted to do was run and hide from all the feelings that stirred inside you when you thought about that scar.

Silence fell again, and Billy continued to struggle to find the words he wanted to say. It made your stomach knot to see him that way when, usually, he had an answer for everything. But you didn’t push, didn’t look at him impatiently. You wanted to give him time to explain himself. If this was the last time you saw him, you wanted to make sure he got to say everything he felt he needed to say.

“I feel out of control when I’m with you,” he confessed, “and it scares me.”

“Why? How? I don’t -” you weren’t sure you wanted an answer. Billy always seemed so in control to you, so completely unflappable and ready to take over any situation, so you just couldn’t fathom him feeling any other way.

“You make me want things I can’t have,” he struggled to hold your gaze and you weren’t sure you’d ever seen him look so vulnerable, “I know how I am isn’t ever gonna be enough for you and there’s nothing I can do to fix it; I can’t buy you with nice things, you don’t want my money, and I dunno how long I’m gonna be enough for you...”

As much as you’d wanted honesty from him, you hated every awkward word that left his lips. Your chest ached and your stomach knotted, and it made you angry that he thought so little of himself - that other people had let him think so little of himself.

“You’re wrong,” you told him, barely managing to bite back your anger. “You are enough - for me or for anyone else.”

“If I was, you wouldn’t have left me.”

It kept coming back to that, like he couldn’t understand that your leaving that day was because of the argument, not because of him. It wasn’t because you stopped wanting him, and it certainly wasn’t because he wasn’t enough.

“I left because you wouldn’t listen to me, Billy,” you tried to explain, “I didn’t want to leave, I just can’t do this if you won’t listen to me, if you won’t trust me. I can’t do that again. I didn’t leave you, I left the situation.”

“You said you needed time,” he answered back, still sounding so defeated. “I gave you time and you didn’t call.”

He had you there. Sure, you could lie to him, tell him that it had always been your intention to text him tonight, but that just felt wrong. You didn’t want to lie.

“I was scared,” you admitted and the look he gave you almost broke your heart, so much that you had to quickly correct; “not of you - of this, of us. Being with you is amazing, it’s just... it’s a lot, Billy, you know?”

He managed a nod. “When I looked through your phone, all I could think was that you’d found someone else and I’d be on my own again. ‘cause it’s just us, I -”

“You don’t want to be exclusive in case I leave you? You want to fuck other women so you have something to fall back on if we break up?” His eyes found yours as your voice broke but, soon enough they dropped to your hand, watching as continued to tug at your sleeve. “You keep saying that but I don’t know what you mean.”

“I don’t want that. I don’t want anyone else,” he tried to explain, stumbling over his words in a desperate attempt to make you understand. “That’s what fucks me up; it’s just us and that means, if I fuck up, I’ll be on my own again. But that doesn’t mean I want anyone else - I want whatever this is. I want us. I like being with you...”

“I -” you started then stopped, trying to wrap your head around everything that had been said, trying to decide what you really wanted, “- I like being with you, too.”

“I don’t know how to not fuck this up,” he sighed. “How can I fix this?”

Suddenly it didn’t feel like an ending, it felt like you could save whatever this was and, even though you were still scared that it’d go horribly wrong, you couldn’t deny that you still wanted him. Somewhere along the way, you’d started to care about him, and having gone through a week without him, you knew that you weren’t ready to let him go.

“I need you to talk to me - when things make you feel out of control, I need you to tell me, and I need you to try and listen to my side of things. And - and I’ll try not to hide so much.” Because being with him was worth that discomfort, it was worth letting him know some of the things that no one else knew.

“Does that mean we’re still -”

There still wasn’t a word for what you were, but you nodded regardless.

“If you promise you’ll talk to me and not -”

“I will,” he answered suddenly, like he was desperate for things to go back to how they had been. He reached across the table before you could respond, taking your hand in his, pulling your fingers away from your sleeve and holding tight. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” the slightest smile appearing on your lips for a few short seconds. “I was worried about you.”

Billy gave you a confused look but didn’t want to ask why. Instead his gaze dropped to your hands and his thumb started to rub gentle circles on the back of your hand. He seemed to have relaxed a little since he first showed up at the bar and, once some of the discomfort had dropped from his features, you could see just how exhausted he was.

“When was the last time you had a full night’s sleep?”

“The last time you stayed over.” Almost two weeks ago. No wonder he looked terrible. Still, he forced a smile and a shrug. “I’m fine.”

“Billy, you need sleep,” you told him softly.

“I -” he started and stopped awkwardly, “- I don’t sleep very well when I’m on my own.”

With any other man at any other time, you would have seen it as a ploy to get you into bed, but there was something about the way he said it, the way he looked in that moment.

“Do you want to -” you started before almost reconsidering, “- do you want to stay over tonight? Just to sleep, I - I don’t know when I’ll be ready for anything more than that.”

“I’d like that. I - we - can take things slow, whatever you need.” And, suddenly, there was hope on his face again.

“Okay, just - just stay here a minute while I tell Karen we're leaving.”

Karen, for obvious reasons, had her reservations about you taking Billy home. She tried to talk you out of it while Frank did his best to stay quiet on the matter, but the look on his face seemed to suggest he was glad that you'd sorted things out. You didn't dare ask how much Billy had told him, you didn't even want to think about it.

You ordered an Uber and headed back to the table to wait, this time sitting next to Billy, letting him take your hand in his again. He didn't say much, presumably because he was tired, and once the Uber was there he followed you outside, still clinging to your hand. You barely spoke the whole ride back to your apartment, save to tell him that Tammy wouldn’t be there because she’d been staying with her new boyfriend a lot.

He held your hand as you led him up the stairs and into the apartment, still so quiet. Once the door was shut behind you and you were finally alone, you found yourself holding your breath, expecting Billy to do - something, anything. Instead he did nothing; there were no awkward attempts to kiss you or hold you and, once you let go of his hand, he kept a respectable distance.

And you hated it.

Not because you hadn’t wanted it and not because you hadn’t agreed that you needed to take things slow, but because Billy seemed almost afraid of touching you or getting too close, and you knew exactly why. This was why you hadn’t wanted to tell him about your past or your scars, because you didn’t want him to see you as someone who’d been hurt in the past.

No, no - as much as you needed to take things slowly, you couldn’t stand this muted version of him.

Reaching for his hand, you pulled him through the apartment and into the bathroom. He gave you a confused look as you reached into the shower and started the water.

“You smell of whiskey,” was the only explanation you offered before slowly helping him out of his clothes. Unlike every other time you’d undressed him, there was nothing sexual about the act and Billy understood that.

Ushering him into the shower, you quickly shed your own clothes and followed after, earning a tired laugh from him when he saw your blue shower cap with rubber ducks printed on it. You helped him wash, lathering him in your vanilla scented body wash before letting him do the same for you. All the while, neither of you really spoke, but he seemed to relax a little and realise that, even if you were taking things slow, he didn’t have to keep his distance.

Done in the shower and both somewhat dressed again (you in your PJs and Billy in his boxers) you led him to your bedroom and told him to get into bed before disappearing to the kitchen. You weren’t sure what possessed you to do it, but a few minutes later you returned to the room with two mugs of hot chocolate, topped with whipped cream and marshmallows.

But you almost froze when you found him in your bed holding the framed photo that usually sat on your bedside table. He put it back the moment he realised you were there.

“Sorry, I was just -”

“It’s okay,” you shook your head as you handed him his drink and climbed into bed beside him. You put your mug down on the bedside table and reached for the frame, looking at the three children in the photograph, standing happily on a golden, sandy beach.

“Is that your brother?” He dared to ask.

“Yeah,” you smiled softly, looking at the gangly boy in the picture, “that’s Sam.”

“And the other girl?”

The smile faded almost entirely. “Lily, my little sister.”

“You have a sister?”

“Had. She - she died a year or two after this photo was taken.”

You heard the exhale but you didn't look at him, you didn't want to see the look on his face.

“I'm sorry,” he offered softly.

You didn't respond, you just put the photo back and grabbed for the TV remote. Soon enough you were sipping hot chocolate and watching Bob's Burgers. Billy, for the most part, stayed quiet, drinking his hot drink without comment and letting out little huffs of laughter any time he found something in the show amusing.

Billy looked half asleep by the time he’d finished his hot chocolate, his eyes closing for seconds at a time but he didn’t seem to want to give in to sleep.

“How was your hot chocolate?” You asked taking his empty mug and placing it beside yours on the nightstand, a little amused that he’d drunk the whole thing without commenting on it once

“It was nice. This is nice, it’s -” he started before stopping, an awkward sort of smile on his lips, “- no one’s ever done anything like this for me before.”

In a way, it felt special to be able to give Billy any sort of first, but you couldn’t help the feeling of sadness that swelled inside you. How had he never had this before? How had no one else in his life ever offered him this simple sort of comfort?

“Hey,” he muttered softly, his hand finding your cheek, “don’t be sad.”

“I’m not, I just - how has no one ever taken care of you before?”

“I guess I never really let anyone. I never really wanted to.” His shoulder ticked in an awkward sort of half-shrug. “A lot of my relationships haven’t exactly been deep.”

You hesitated before asking; “what about Krista?”

A flicker of tension ran across his face, and you regretted asking, so much so that you almost wanted to take it back. Billy settled back a little, using getting himself comfortable as an excuse not to answer for a few seconds.

“Krista happened at a bad time in my life,” he finally sighed, “I'd been hurt, she was my therapist, I - I told her things I’ve never told anyone. She made me feel broken but told me I could be fixed, and that was all I wanted.”

You tried your best to school your expression, to not let him see the emotions that were warring inside of you; sadness for him, and a hatred of her that had you hoping you saw her again just so you could tell her what you thought of her.

“I stopped going to our sessions after a while - therapy just wasn’t for me,” he shrugged and it was no surprise why. “But when I ran into her again, it felt like there was a connection, it felt easy because she already knew me better than almost anyone. It started slow, she’d make little comments about things, then when I’d argue she’d tell me that I was upset because I don’t feel things the right way - that my trauma messed up the way I process emotions - and, sometimes, when I wanted to -” you were glad he decided not to go into any detail at all about sleeping with her, “- she’d act like I was being unreasonable for wanting it, like it was too much or I wanted too much...”

“She told you that you have poor impulse control.” You’d already assumed as much, but he confirmed it with a nod of his head.

“At the time, it felt like she was being completely reasonable and that, if I did what she wanted, I’d get better...”

“Billy...” you offered tenderly, finding his hand on top of the blankets and taking hold of it, “there’s nothing wrong with you and - and that bitch should never have told you there was. You know that, right? She shouldn’t’ve even been in a relationship with you; it’s so disgusting and unprofessional.”

He just shrugged at your anger, sinking down the bed a little more obviously too tired to carry on the conversation (or maybe he just didn’t want to because he didn’t want to argue). You followed suit until you were both laid beside each other, the tips of your noses almost touching.

“Why weren’t you answering your brother’s calls?” He asked after a minute or so of silence, and it was your turn to sigh.

“It’s complicated,” and you didn’t really want to say more than that, but given everything Billy had told you about Krista, it didn’t seem fair not to give him a real answer. “He can be... protective. He doesn’t think I can take care of myself and it feels suffocating. After we started seeing each other, I felt like I was in a good place and I didn’t want him making me feel bad about it.”

“Why would he make you feel bad?”

“Because haven’t always had the best taste in men and because he doesn’t realise that I’ve grown up.” You sighed again. If Billy could tell you were holding things back, he didn’t let on.

“You think he wouldn’t approve of me?”

“I think it doesn’t matter what he thinks,” you shrugged, “but, if he got to know you, I know he’d like you, he’d just - he’d find a way to make me feel like I shouldn’t be with you, like I can’t handle it.”

He nodded and decided not to say anything else on matter; it felt like a good middle ground; you’d both shared what needed to be shared, everything else could come later. His eyes closed again and you tried your best to stifle a yawn before awkwardly twisting to turn off the lamp, plunging you into darkness.

Without thinking, you reached for him, your fingers stroking his hair, trying to soothe him to sleep.

“I should be taking care of you,” he muttered softly, “I’m the one that fucked up.”

You shushed him, before whispering; “I’m proving a point.”

“What point?”

“That you are enough, Billy.”

He didn’t say another word before falling asleep.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

END NOTES : So this one got a bit talk-y and I hope people don't mind that. I just need Billy and reader to really get to know each other before I can get them to where they're going. Don't worry, they're not going to be able to keep their hands off each other for long.

As always, thank you so much for reading, I'm still completely blown away how many of you come back week after week to read this!!

If you want adding/removing from the tag list let me know (I know some people are having issues with the tags? think you might need to enable tagging on your end of things? IDK tumblr is weird)

TAG LIST

@lincerad @sweetserendipity65 @rafaelakelley @slayerofthevampire @rensolodriver @lovelydoveval @doloreschanal @damagelove @danzer8705 @unlikelystarlightcowboy @schlotzshewrote @bisexualbith @uncontainedsmiles @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @lilliesofmay @billyrussoslut

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo x female reader #billy russo fanfic #the punisher #cmiyc ff #billy russo imagine

138 notes · View notes