#hes like. you want him? that one? you're dating that one in another timeline? yes. im sorry king

[prettyboykatsuki]

those last few anons… it took me so long to read as ZANTETSU (bllk) and not ZENITSU (demon slayer)

i’m sitting here like “wtf does zenitsu have in common with zayne…?”

ZENITSU DSKJFKHFDJDGNDLK . man who has even LESS in common with those two

[hanniebaeee]

Clueless: Baby Bang

Bang Chan x fem!reader

Warnings: Reader is pregnant (just that, nothing deep)

Genre: established relationship, flufffff

Summary: You've been distant lately, and Chan can't understand why. Because this is very unusual for the two of you as you two are on each other all the time. And Chan panics as you guys are getting married in a few months, and this sudden change is unraveling him.

Clueless Masterlist

Chan paced the living room, a deep frown etched into his forehead. You hadn’t touched him in days. Weeks, actually. That alone was already a catastrophe, considering the fact that you two were basically like bunnies.

But now? Nothing. You were dodging his touches like he was contagious. He reached for your hand? Oh, look, you suddenly needed both hands to text someone. He tried for a kiss? Whoops, you conveniently yawned. Bedtime? You were already asleep. 

And that diamond ring glittering on your ring finger? It made him wonder if you were regretting saying yes to him already.

He’d spent way too many nights staring at the ceiling, feeling like the universe was punishing him for something he didn't even know he did.

Chan sighed and opened the group chat. This was bad. He needed to vent.

Chan: She’s avoiding me.

A rapid barrage of notifications followed, and Chan barely had time to process one before another arrived. 

Minho: Y/N? The one who’s practically glued to your lap 24/7?

Hyunjin: LMAO. Not possible. I won't believe it.

Seungmin: You obviously did something.

Chan: NO, I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING!

Chan: She’s been acting weird for WEEKS. 2 weeks to be exact. No kisses. No hugs. No… anything.

Jisung: No sex? BRO. Are you okay?

Felix: What if she’s planning something? Like a surprise? Maybe a wedding thing?

---

Chan paused. That was… not unreasonable. But no. You’d never kept secrets from him before. Like you've given him enough surprises before so he knew this was different.

---

Minho: OR. She’s finally come to her senses about you seducing her into saying yes? 

Chan: Minho. I will come to your house and end you.

Jeongin: But seriously, hyung. Did you say something? Do something? Forget an important date? You’re kind of a workaholic.

---

That hit a little too close to home. Chan frowned, scrolling back through his mental timeline of your relationship.

---

Chan: I didn’t forget anything. I swear. We were fine until a couple weeks ago, and now she’s avoiding me like the plague.

Changbin: Well. There’s only one logical explanation.

Changbin: She’s been abducted by aliens and replaced with a clone.

Jisung: YES. I second this. The real Y/N would NEVER do this. 

Felix: Omg guys! 

Chan: GUYS.

Hyunjin: Okay. What if she’s mad because you’re not initiating? She’s waiting for you to grovel.

Seungmin: That makes no sense. If she’s mad, why not just say so?

Hyunjin: IDK, some people like drama.

Jeongin: That’s your toxic trait, Hyung.

Hyunjin: IS NOT!

---

Chan groaned, dropping his phone onto the couch. He missed you. Like, really missed you. Sure, he wanted to rip your clothes off 90% of the time, but he also missed the simple things - your cuddles, your soft laugh, the way you’d always need him by your side when you're stressed. 

The cold shoulders and polite smiles were killing him.

---

Minho: Just confront her, idiot. Corner her in the kitchen and ask her what’s wrong.

Chan: You think I haven’t tried that?! Every time I ask, she changes the subject.

Jisung: Okay, hear me out. Seduction.

Chan: What?

Jisung: Set the mood. Candles. Sexy music. Flex those ridiculous arms. She won’t stand a chance.

Felix: Worth a try. 

---

That night, Chan put the "seduction plan" into action. He dimmed the lights, skipped the candles, and put on a romantic playlist. He even went full drama, lounging on the couch with his shirt conveniently unbuttoned.

When you walked in, your eyebrows shot up as you asked, “What's up?”

Chan said nothing, just held held his hand out.  You froze, guilt flashing across your face, and Chan knew he had you. You placed your hand on his and let him pull you close.

“Baby, what’s going on? You’ve been avoiding me, and it’s driving me crazy. Did I do something wrong?” His voice cracked, and that set you off.

Your eyes filled with tears, and in an instant you were in his lap, clinging to him like your life depended on it.

“I’m sorry, Channie! I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Then why -”

“Shhh,” Chan fell silent as you pressed a finger to his lips. “Just know that I love you, Channie.”

Chan was suspicious. Because, well, you’d shut him up in the best way possible, last night - all he remembered was his shirt coming off and yeah.

You’d seduced him. Thoroughly. And while his brain had short-circuited at that time, he was now absolutely certain that you’d dodged his questions on purpose.

At least he can't complain about you not touching him anymore, right?

---

Chan: It didn't work.

Minho: WHAT didn't?

Chan: She kinda caught me off guard. And avoided my questions.

Jisung: I thought we agreed on YOU seducing her and you got seduced??

Felix: Soooo… you still don’t know what’s going on?

Chan: NO. She’s hiding something, I know it.

Hyunjin: Maybe you’re overthinking. Or, maybe she’s secretly a spy.

Changbin: She’s NOT a spy, Hyunjin. That’s ridiculous.

Hyunjin: And alien clones aren’t?

Minho: Why are we even helping you? You let her seduce you and then just… forgot your goal.

---

Chan groaned, flopping onto his back. It wasn’t his fault! He was weak when it came to you. All it took was a look, or a whisper of his name and his brain turned to mush.

Still, Minho had a point.

---

Chan: Okay, fine. What do I do now?

Felix: She’s probably just stressed? Weddings are a big deal. She might just need time to sort her thoughts.

That gave Chan pause. Weddings were stressful. Maybe that was it?

Hyunjin: My bet’s still on spy.

---

Meanwhile, you were in the bathroom, staring at the little plastic stick in your hand for the hundredth time now. You’d known for two weeks, but the reality hadn’t gotten any less terrifying.

You were pregnant. Pregnant. With Chan’s baby.

The thought sent your heart racing. You loved him more than anything, but… you’d never talked about kids. What if he wasn’t ready? What if he panics when you bring it up? 

There were only a few months until the wedding. You didn’t want to dump this on him now and risk throwing him into a spiral.

---

That night, Chan decided to take Minho’s advice (for once). No more distractions. He was getting answers tonight.

When you walked into the living room and his eyes locked onto yours - you froze. He looked so handsome, and a little…worn out? You felt so guilty for doing this. 

“Come sit,” he said, patting the couch beside him.

You hesitated, but complied, heart pounding.

“Baby, we need to talk,” Chan said, his voice soft but firm.

You swallowed hard as you murmured, “About what?”

“You’ve been acting weird for weeks. And you obviously don't trust me enough to talk it out. I’m worried. What's going on? Is it the wedding?” He was giving you that puppy eyed look, and your heart shattered.

“No, Channie, it's not like that...”

“Then what is it? Please, just tell me.”

You opened your mouth, ready to spill everything - but then you panicked. The words caught in your throat, and instead, you leaned in, pressing your lips to his.

Here he was - caught off guard (again) but quickly melting into the kiss. You climbed into his lap, your hands tangling in his hair, and within seconds, all thoughts of questioning were gone.

---

Chan: SHE DID IT AGAIN.

Minho: You’re hopeless.

Seungmin: At this rate, she could rob a bank and get away with it.

Felix: Honestly, I’m impressed.

---

Chan sighed, glaring at the group chat before throwing his phone across the bed. Whatever you were hiding, it was big. And he was determined to find out, one way or another.

Little did he know, in the bathroom, you were rehearsing how to tell him the truth: that in just a few months, he wasn’t just going to be your husband.

He was going to be a dad.

Chan was officially losing it. His imagination had gone to some very dark places (thanks to Changbin’s clone theory and Hyunjin’s spy nonsense), but now he just felt defeated. What was so big and terrifying, that you felt like you couldn’t share it with him?

Chan: I give up. She’s unbreakable.

Jisung: Hey don't lose hope.

Minho: Pathetic.

Jeongin: Just sit her down and don’t let her leave until she talks.

Chan: I’VE TRIED THAT.

Chan was ready to lock himself and you in a room till you cracked, but unfortunately he was already cracking under the stress. And then a lightbulb went off in his head. There was just one person in the world who might be able to get through to you.

Felix.

---

Felix was, to put it lightly, concerned when Chan cornered him in his kitchen.

“Lix, you have to help me,” Chan said, his eyes wild and desperate.

“Help you how?” Felix asked cautiously.

“Can you please try to talk to her?” Chan literally begs. “She loves you, Lix. Maybe she’ll tell you if you ask?”

Felix hesitated, torn between loyalty to Chan, who was literally his brother and his friendship with you. But ultimately, his desire to help won anyway.

“Okay,” he said with a sigh. “I’ll talk to her.”

---

Later that afternoon, you opened the door to find Felix standing on your porch, holding a box of cookies and his sunniest smile. 

“Lixie?” you asked, surprised. “So good to see you!”

“Just wanted to check on you, love,” he said, coming forward to hug you.

You stepped aside to let him in, and the two of you settled on the couch.

“I baked these for you,” he said, watching your reaction closely as you opened the box and munched on a cookie immediately. “You’ve been looking a little stressed lately.”

You stopped mid-chew, guilt gnawing at you.

“I’m fine, Lix. Just… wedding stuff, you know?” you said, carefully avoiding his eyes.

“Is it really just the wedding?” Felix tilted his head, unconvinced.

You froze, your hands tightening around the box.

“You know you can talk to me, right? Whatever it is, I won’t judge.” Felix said, reaching out and placing a gentle hand over yours.

Your eyes welled up with tears, and as you put the box aside gently. Felix scooted closer as he saw the tears fall, and before you knew it, the truth came spilling out.

“I’m pregnant, Felix,” you whispered. “And I don’t know how to tell Chan. We’ve never talked about kids, and I don’t even know if he wants them. And now the wedding’s so close, and I’m scared I’ll ruin everything. I already got my wedding dress and I don't think I'll fit into it anymore because by that time-”

Felix’s eyes went wide, and for a moment, he looked like he might burst into tears himself. But then he let out a strangled laugh.

“You’re… you’re pregnant?”

You nodded, sniffled and managed a soft, “Yeah.”

Felix threw his arms around you, nearly knocking you over. 

“Oh my God, Y/N! I’m so happy for you! And for Chan! You’re gonna have the cutest baby in the world!” he gushed, his eyes sparkling with happy tears. 

You couldn’t help but laugh through your own tears. 

“You don't think this is a disaster?” you asked softly, wiping your tears away. 

“Disaster?” Felix pulled back, shaking his head. “Of course not. This is amazing! But you have to tell Chan. He’s going insane trying to figure out what’s wrong.”

“I know,” you said softly. “I just… I’m scared.”

Felix gave you a reassuring smile and said, “Chan loves you more than anything. Trust me, he’s gonna be over the moon. And I'll always be here for you. Seriously, sweetheart, this is the best news ever.”

---

Hyunjin: Well? Did she tell you?

Jisung: SPILL, FELIX.

Chan: Felix? Please. I’m dying here.

Felix hesitated, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. He couldn’t betray your trust, but he also couldn’t leave Chan hanging.

Felix: She’s okay. She’s just… working through something.

Minho: And you’re being suspiciously vague.

Seungmin: Should've known that sending her best friend to investigate wasn't your strongest idea… obviously he's gonna take her side! 

Felix: I promised I wouldn’t say anything. But it’s nothing bad, I swear.

Chan: Seriously?? Nothing bad? Then why is she avoiding me?

Felix: Just… be patient with her, okay? She’ll tell you when she’s ready. I promise it's all ok. Trust me. 

Chan frowned at the message, his heart twisting.

You had spent the whole night rehearsing what to say to Chan, your stomach churning with nerves. Morning came far too quickly, and as you watched him shuffle into the kitchen with his hair messy and his sleepy face, you nearly chickened out.

But Felix’s words echoed in your head. He’s gonna be over the moon.

“Channie,” you said softly, placing your mug of tea aside and taking a step towards him. 

He looked up from the coffee maker, his sleepy eyes brightening instantly. You were trying to talk to him, and somehow that was enough. Anything was better than you avoiding him. 

“Morning, baby.”

You smiled nervously, gesturing to the table. “Can we talk?”

His brow furrowed, worry flashing across his face as he nodded and sat down opposite you.

“Is everything okay?”

You took a deep breath, your hands trembling slightly as you said, “You know how I’ve been… weird lately?”

Chan nodded, his gaze fixed on you with a mix of concern and curiosity.

“Well,” you continued, “there’s a reason for that. And I’ve been scared to tell you because it’s big. Like, really big.”

“Baby, whatever it is, you can tell me. I promise, I’ll handle it.” Chan said, reaching across the table and taking your hand in his.

Your eyes filled with tears as you finally said it.

“I’m pregnant.”

Chan froze. Completely. His mouth hung open, his grip on your hand tightening slightly as his brain processed your words.

“You’re… pregnant?” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

You nodded, tears spilling over.

“Yeah. I found out a couple of weeks ago, and I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t know if you’d be okay with it, or if it was too much with the wedding coming up -”

Chan cut you off by pulling you into his arms, burying his face in your neck. His body shook as he let out a half-laugh, half-sob, and you realized he was crying.

“Channie, are you okay?” you asked nervously, your own voice shaking as you stroked his hair.

“Okay?” he choked out, pulling back to look at you with tear-streaked cheeks and the biggest grin you’d ever seen. “Baby, I’m better than okay. I’m… I’m gonna be a dad?”

You nodded, your heart swelling at the pure joy on his face.

Chan laughed, his tears flowing freely now.

“Holy crap. I don’t know what to say?! We’re having a baby. A baby!”

Before you could say anything else, Chan was  peppering your face with kisses, squeezing you in the tightest hug ever.

“I love you so much. Baby, you’re…I can’t believe you’ve been carrying this on your own.” he said, cupping your cheeks with his hands. 

“I didn’t want to stress you out,” you admitted, clinging to him as he pulled you onto his lap. “And…I've never been more scared about anything my entire life? I mean, I adore you, and I know I want this with you, our baby already means the world to me…but not knowing if you would want that too? It's been killing me, we've never even joked about this before, Channie… “

“You could’ve told me sooner, baby,” he said softly, kissing the tip of your nose. “I thought we were clear about this, with you, I'm ready for anything! But I get it. And I love you even more for worrying about me. But baby, we’re in this together. Always.”

---

Chan: GUYS. I HAVE NEWS. HUGE NEWS 🤩

Jisung: Finally!! 

Hyunjin: I told you she's a spy!! No one ever listens to me!! 

Minho: He’s too happy for that, you idiot.

Chan: WE’RE HAVING A BABY.

Jeongin: Excuse me, WHAT?

Changbin: STOP. Really?! 

Seungmin: Wow, plot twist

Felix: Oh thank godddddd😭😭😭😭

Felix: I was dying here

Chan: SHE TOLD ME THIS MORNING. I’M GONNA BE A DAD. WE’RE GONNA BE PARENTS. OMG.

---

It felt like everytime he said it, it felt a little more real.

---

Jisung: Congratulations, bro. Wow. 

Hyunjin: I AM CRYING. I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU’RE REPRODUCING.

Chan: 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Chan: MY BABYGIRL AND I ARE HAVING A BABY😭💖

Minho: Jokes aside, this is such great news!! Congrats. Now go take care of your pregnant fiancée instead of spamming us.

Chan: I think I'm gonna faint

Changbin: Congrats, bro. But also… HOW DID YOU NOT NOTICE SHE WAS GOING THROUGH SOMETHING?

Chan: I NOTICED! I just didn't think she was, you know

Jisung: Avoiding you because she was growing your spawn, apparently.

Hyunjin: “Spawn” makes it sound like a little gremlin. Oh my Gawd 🤣

Felix: STOP. My baby’s gonna be so adorable I’ll CRY 😭

Minho: Okay, Felix, you’re suspiciously calm about this. Did you already know?

Felix: 👀

Hyunjin: YOU KNEW.

Chris: WHAT?? FELIX, YOU KNEW BEFORE ME?!

Felix: SHE TOLD ME FIRST, OKAY? SHE WAS NERVOUS, AND I PROMISED I WOULDN’T SAY ANYTHING.

Jisung: Wow. Betrayal.

Chan: SO YOU JUST LET ME SUFFER FOR WEEKS??

Felix: Yes. And? I'd do it again for her.

Changbin: LMAO savage.

Jeongin: Shame on you for trusting him when everyone knows he works for her

Chan: Thanks for being on her side, Lix

Felix: Anytime 💖

Hyunjin: Omg, imagine Baby Bang. Tiny curls, tiny dimples 😍

Chan: STOP I’M ALREADY CRYING AGAIN 😭

Jeongin: I've never been this excited for a baby really. You'd let us babysit won't you? 

Changbin: Oh yeah. Group uncle duty.

Hyunjin: We're gonna be dancing before we can even walk Baby Bang 🤝

Felix: For sure!

Chan: THANK YOU GUYS FOR BEING EXCITED FOR US!

Jisung: Save your tears for the wedding, Daddy Bang.

Jeongin: When do we throw a baby shower? Felix?

Felix: Already planning it.

Hyunjin: This baby’s gonna be so loved.

Chan: THANK YOU, GUYS. I LOVE YOU ALL 😭

---

Chan added Y/N to the group chat.

Chan: SURPRISE, BABY! WELCOME TO THE CHAOS.

Jisung: AHHH THE QUEEN IS HERE!

Hyunjin: ALL HAIL THE BABY-MAKER 👑

Minho: Congrats on creating life and also tolerating Chan for this long.

Felix: YAYYYYYY YOU’RE HERE! 😭 We’ve been dying to have you here!!!

Jeongin: Thank you for gifting us Baby Bang. We promise to only slightly corrupt them.

Changbin: We’re all crying. I’m crying. Hyung is crying. Everyone’s crying.

Y/N:😂

Y/N: Oh my God, you guys.

Minho: This is us being tame.

Hyunjin: Soooo, what does it feel like, hm? Asking for research purposes, of course

Chan: Oh yeah, totally not gonna run off and impregnate someone 🙄

Hyunjin: What's it to you Christopher? You can do it, but I can't?! 

Chan: Oh please

Minho: I told her to get a collar for this damn puppy and look who's here yapping

Y/N: Leave him alone guys!

Hyunjin: I respect you, Y/N. I respect you. So I'm gonna shut up (Mr Know, let's do this face to face huh)

Minho: Gladly.

Felix: Honestly, Y/N, we’re just honored to be part of this. 

Y/N: Thanks guys, this means a lot to us. 

Changbin: And we’re going to spoil them rotten.

Jeongin: Rotten is an understatement.

Y/N: 🤭🤭🤭

Minho: You won't even know what hit you for the next 18 years. Or 30.

Chan: GUYS. Stop scaring her. Baby, they’re joking.

Felix: We’re not.

Hyunjin: Nope.

Jisung: Absolutely not.

Y/N: I'm all in for that hehe

Chan: I love you guys

Jisung: Chan’s in his feels again.

Felix: We have a wedding and baby shower to plan! 

Hyunjin: OMG. A pregnant bride. You’re gonna be so GLOWY.

Y/N: Thank you for being this excited for us. I love you guys 😭💖

Felix: We love you too!! 🥺💖

Divider: @saradika-graphics

Tags: @moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght @eastjonowhere @pixie-felix @sailor--sun @chancloud8

[hitlikehammers]

that tune without the words

“It was nice, walking through those woods, talking to you,” and the tone of his voice in admitting it makes the whole shebang another line item for Eddie’s getting-to-know-Steve file: lift this man’s standards out of the fucking gutter—but then his tone’s turning sorta wry: “Even if it was mostly about how you were impressed that I was less of a douche than advertised.” 💕

rating: t ♥️ cw: mid-S4, Vol2, steve goes back for eddie’s ‘body’, interdimensional bat venom can be a hell of an paralytic inconvenience ♥️ tags: eddie munson lives (to go on a date that’s not walking through dead hell-forests 🎉), steve harrington having a one-sided/unfiltered heart-to-heart with the cute boy who carved his probable bisexuality indelibly intonstone 💎 (no biggie), an over abundance of flirting in times of mortal peril, planning a future in an actively crumbling hellscape=(soon-to-be)couple goals, happy ending (and hopeful ending, too!)

for @steddielovemonth day two: "if you're lost, you can look and you will find me // if you fall I will catch you, I'll be waiting" —Time After Time by Cyndi Lauper

title credit here🪶

When they tangled with Vecna, Eddie’s body gets left behind. Sure, yes, they all know the timeline, the logistics, how the story goes. The gates seal. Supergirl goes nuclear. They kinda-half-lose. The town’s a fucking mess. They gotta lick their wounds.

But the in-between bits get hazy, see.

Specifically when Steve went AWOL and ran back, jumped through the closing gate he’d just barely managed to climb up through in the first place, given the extent of his wounds, and runs for the body they abandoned because he doesn’t leave his people behind.

And somehow in just a couple days, Eddie counted as his people. Even just his body.

The strength, the speed, the stamina to not have been stuck in the Upside Down, to not have dropped the dead weight in the way back up, to not have got suctioned in and crushed in half as the fissures crept closed: that’s the fucking stuff of legends, of parents lifting trucks off pinned children. No wonder they call Steve the mom.

But yeah. Eddie’s body’s left behind.

For like…ten minutes, max.

Then Steve fucking Harrington had to be all Steve fucking Harrington about it, say fuck that, and weigh the risk of two dead bodies as sufficient collateral to leap like it was a fucking two-for-one at Melvald’s.

Bastard made it back, too. Bloody as fuck, everything that’d healed even a little bit torn at least twice as wide in breaking back open; three extra broken bones, with at least on being a rib that there’s genuine concern over puncturing a lung with one more wrong move—and a likely one, given the evidence thus far.

And also, there’s Eddie.

Eddie, who’s breathing, who they don’t know until later whether Steve managed to somehow resuscitate, or if the powers that govern the hellscape zapped him back for nefarious reasons, or maybe they’d all just…fucked up and missed that Eddie wasn’t even all-dead in the first place.

Details, remember. The in-between parts got real hazy.

Eddie knew the truth form the get-go, though.

Having to witness Henderson fall apart, draped across him was maybe the most harrowing thing eddie has ever had to live through—but the point was, he did live through it. Everything was foggy, and he felt like his world was blinking too long in between knowing it was still there, like reality and his place in it were too close to sleep to be rooted, to be trusted, to be sure at all that it would last and that his shitty attempts to get any air in weren’t just painful acts of desperation to delay the inevitable.

But then there had been lips on his lips, and he’d tasted his own blood there but then more blood, other blood.

And his lungs were blissfully full for the first time in what felt like eons.

He wants to turn to find out who’s there, whose mouth had just spared him in his torment for even a few extra moments before the end, but he—

He can’t fucking move. He hadn’t realized that part before—oxygen deprivation, hell of a distraction apparently—but now that he clocks it?

That lungful of air’s gasping out fast as fuck as eddie panic because what’s happening what is happening—

What’s happening is that mouth on his again, giving him back the breath he’s foolishly wasting on panic, coupled with a too-broad hand, palm braced at his chest and fingers curled up his shoulder: firm. Steadying.

“Poison,” a voice says low, close to him enough that eddie thinks he maybe feel warmth from it but he’s not sure, he’s not sure what he does and does not feel and that’s most of the fucking terror: “in the venom. My legs were numb as fuck after, the went too deep at the core and it just fanned out, couldn’t feel a fucking thing but the pain til we got supplies.”

The hand moves fuller to his chest like it’s testing something, then the lips are back, filling up his lungs, like someone who knows how this works, who’s done it before—

A lifeguard would know. Would have done it before and…

Okay, like, Eddie didn’t spend most of every summer the past handful of years in a carefully disguised little copse of shadey trees near enough to keep the community pool in his sights because he was planning to get in the water, y’know?

“But then it felt like there wasn’t enough air when I tried to breathe deep, way worse than my legs, like from,” and he touches Eddie’s neck, then, where the bats barely got him by comparison to…other places so Eddie thinks—with the newly-restored moments of oxygen to his brain cells—Steve’s talking about his suspicious noose-shaped souvenir.

Eddie wants to be able to see, wants to see and know with all his sense that this is steve: touching him and coming back for him and saving him and—

“You’re still breathing,” and shit, it’s like Eddie’s prayers are answered without a god believed in, his fucking lucky day, because Steve’s leaning and holding still so the his cheek under Eddie’s nose, and the bow of his lips just at the corner of Eddie’s mouth, gasping out his assessment when the hint of damp the exhale gathers on his skin, all with a kind of relief that feels…too big, really. Like Eddie can’t possibly deserve that. They barely know each other.

But fuck if Eddie—who was very much banking of giving up the goddamn ghost down here just a couple minute prior, especially once everyone had left and he was just staring at the red lightning waiting to be struck down for good—but fuck if Eddie is gonna pretend he doesn’t want to deserve that care and relief, to merit and earn it for himself, specifically from Steve, especially the Steve he’s gotten to know in the last seventy-two hours. All the shit about crisis revealing a persons true nature?

Sign Eddie the fuck up for a) all of Steve Harrington and his truest true nature as well as b) the sworn duty of keeping this far too tightly wound paladin barbarian crossbreed marvel of a specimen from any more crises, and ensuring the opposite instead, maybe like, holding him close. Kissing his neck. Falling asleep in each other’s arms. More…stuff like that.

Time probably moves faster the vacuum of real actual Armageddon, so. He probably can shrug off the ‘barely know each other’ stuff.

His heart’s doing a little floppy-floppy thing with Steve’s mouth still so close; with knowing Steve’s mouth had been closer, so. Yeah. He’s sold, 100% on board. Bring him the dotted line, he’ll be Mrs. Harrington by morning.

Or…evening? It’s just fucking dark here, he doesn’t even remember what day it is.

“Too much,” and Steve’s not moving form where he’s gauging—presumably—Eddie’s breaths at the source, whispering and so, so close as he waggles his hand around; “before, but,” and Eddie gets it quick: too much commotion. To much hysteria, and more than merited, but Dustin’s sobbing? Robin’s shaking, Nancy’s armor-grip on her gun making trying to measure a pulse less than worthless and Steve…Steve has getting them the fuck out before the gates closed, Eddie remembers hearing that—which begs the question of why he’s here again bow, but one thing at a time.

The one thing Eddie wants to focus on is Steve thought to come back at all, and thought it not inpossible to find him alive and not-yet-but-still-eventually-capable-of-kicking, because the bats had numbed him to fuck, too.

And he hadn’t told anyone, Jesus fuck—this man, and giving more shirts about him already than Eddie’s maybe given for anyone, is gonna be what actually manages to put him six feet in the goddamn ground.

“I had a feeling,” Steve says, and Eddie doesn’t have to try and fail to turn to see the triumphant smirk he’s pulling, still relieved but like, vindicated now, too.

“And even if I didn’t,” he sobers quick; “I wasn’t leaving you here.” And Eddie wouldn’t stilled if he was capable of moving in the first place because…yeah, he’s basically figured he was being left here. Was pretty much solidly on his way to making his peace with it too when feet landed close to his knees and lips closed over his own and the rest is…

Is now. Where Steve Harrington doesn’t leave Eddie Munson, even as the world ends in their fucking faces and all proves to be as good as lost.

He won’t settle for them counting among the loses and that’s…

That’s just kinda…wow.

“Was really banking pretty hard on that feeling, too,” and Eddie hears Steve’s voice strain a little, even as there comes a little tiny huff of slightly manic laughter, and a rip of fabric from fuck knows where. “Want to get to know you better, Munson,” he says, tight like he’s holding up tensions, or swallowing back pain and Eddie doesn’t like that, and likes even less that he can do fuck all about it right now.

But if they’re gonna be in the business of getting to know each other better, then Eddie’s filing that sound away in the ‘keep that shit away from Steve forever’ file.

Eddie likes dealing with forevers in his head, because they so rarely work out for him in life. He craves disappointment, maybe; but.

“Walking through the woods, half-fucking paralyzed was some of the,” Steve starts, honest and earnest before Eddie catches half-a-shrug out the corner of his eye and…maybe he’s not the only one who deals in forevers in their head, and if he’s suddenly not the only one, maybe less disappointing could possibly be imminent.

Maybe.

“It was nice, talking to you,” and the tone of his voice in admitting it makes the whole shebang another thing for the getting-to-know-Steve file: lift this man’s standards out of the fucking gutter—then his tone’s turning sorta wry:

“Even if it was mostly about how you were impressed that I was less of a douche than advertised.”

Eddie wants desperately to laugh, to bump shoulders with Steve again like he did a little, tries for more when they were walking side by side, he wants so fucking bad—

Then there’s fire in his fucking throat.

“Oh, fuck,” Steve sounds more startled than concerned, where Eddie’s kinda afraid his neck is melting into lava or some shit; “yeah, yeah, baby,” and hold the fuck up, what did Steve just say, what did Steve just call him? Our of nowhere?

The lava feeling’s way less important; in fact, takes enough of a back step to make some sense with Steve’s neck words, with his hand back in Eddie’s chest to brace his shoulder:

“You’re coming back, just keep,” he’d tries to laugh, and the sound had gotten lost on Eddie in the agony but it hadn’t been lost in Steve, his baby, holy fucking shit—

“Oh.”

Steve’s tone is something entirely new; awed a little, floored a little, not bad, so that’s a plus, but…overwhelmed like at the edges but then fucking ecstatic in the middle, which down here shouldn’t even be possible, until his hand pressed a little harder into Eddie’s ribs on the less mangled side and—

“Strong enough to feel, now, even when I still can’t feel everything,” Steve’s face swims, gorgeous and kinda like an answer to the universe in the minimal view space Eddie has to work with as he slowly crawls back online, a process not actually being helped by Eddie putting together what’s causing Steve’s reaction—the way his heart’s pumping’s growing a little undeniable even on his own end, and Steve’s hand feeling the raw effects of Steve on Eddie’s body right now isn’t helping matters at-fucking-all, but also Eddie never wants that touch to leave him ever fucking again, ever.

It’s a delicate sort of contradiction.

“Shit, yeah,” and Steve’s laughing, and it’s a soft joy-tinged thing less than the manic hysteria thus far.

Eddie’s fucking toast, man. No hope for him now.

“Strong enough even if I’m kinda fucking shaking,” Steve holds out his hand that, yeah, is in fact a little trembly but hey.

Eddie can’t feel shit yet too good, but he’s almost certain he’s got to be no better. Blood in his veins certainly ain’t winning any awards for steadiness.

And Steve leans down, this time back with another one of those vaguely hysterical laughs and Eddie can’t see everything outside of the angle his head’s held at just now, and the whole problem really starts with how he can’t feel a lot of shit á la bat venom, but.

If Eddie had any money, he’d actually wager that Steve fucking Harrington. Just touched his lips to Eddie’s neck, just kissed where his pulse would kick between his collarbones. And, true or not, the possibility of that?

Holy fucking shit.

“I hope these aren’t too tight,” Eddie sees the motion from Steve’s shoulder, feels…or thinks he feels the lightest ghost of pressure at his fucked up side: tight. The tearing from before; Steve had been wrapping his sorry ass up.

Talk about Eddie’s goddamn knight in shining armor, Jesus fuck.

“Pretty sure it came down to the fact that their poison hit me like it did because of where they got me the worse, and that’s what made me hope in the first place, you know. Your worst bleeders are in the meat,” and yeah, Eddie really does think that’s real sensation for the soft press of Steve’s hand at his flank, not say nothing of the burning flush to his cheeks, blood’s moving just fine there.

“Fucking deep but not so close to the bloodstream, to pump around and make it worse,” and he touches Eddie’s neck again, and ah: that was why Steve had the reaction he did, mainline to the ticker to get it all swum around. “More of it in you, obviously, because there were more of them, more teeth, but not up here,” and fuck Steve Harrington for the way his hand brushes Eddie’s neck almost tender-like, just…fuck him; “no a direct fucking line to the source.”

Yes. Fuck him. Preferably soon and with Eddie at full sensation and on a horizontal surface that’s not bloodsoaked and vaguely reeking of rot.

Just, y’know. If anyone’s taking note of preferences.

“Thank god for it,” Steve breathes out, the air fluttering over Eddie’s face and he can feel it and he wants to cry, he wants to jump up and dance; can’t do that year but his pulse makes a damn good attempt.

“But yeah, anyway, just walking through hell with you was,” Steve shifts back to the part where he’d seemed to be extolling the virtues of apocalyptic flirting, but before Eddie can file it away to do so much better in whatever’s to come? Steve’s slotting his fingers between Eddie’s own; he can’t feel the whole of it, but he damn well feels enough to know the way they fit is perfect, like they were cut form the same clay millennia ago.

Of course Eddie’s heart goes flippy-floppy again; it fucking has to.

“Not the part about Nance so much, though.”

And Eddie thinks he frowns because…oh.

Oh right, yeah, he really hasn’t had a glimmer of hope in hell that what kinda feels like is happening right now was even on the goddamn table, so…maybe he had tried to funnel his sense of pure and unadulterated loss into at east giving the boy he wanted, what < i >that boy wanted.

Whoops.

Won’t be making that mistake ever again, though, at least. Lesson learned, loud and clear.

“That’s been and gone, man,” steve sighs, a if Eddie needs more convincing. “And I don’t want to go back to where I left it. I want to love someone, who loves me.”

It feels heavy and vulnerable, but all Eddie wants to do is shot me, it can be me, let me have the adventure of learning how to love every bit of you better than you ever thought to even hope after pretty fucking please with a goddamn cherry on top—

“So she’s,” Steve huffs, definitive-like: “out of the picture. She could maybe learn to be that, but, and Steve moves, the most intentionally he’s done it so far to look Eddie straight in the eye when he wraps up the point:

“I’m not interested enough to wait.”

Which means it’s no fucking coincidence, that eye-contact, and Eddie’s ping-ponging pulse for it is 100% prevent valid and then some.

“And I know can’t talk right now, so I get this isn’t really,” Steve sucks his teeth in a genuinely unbearably adorable way; “fair, or probably even like, wholly ethical,” and Eddie’s only been around for days but that sounds like Robin right there, and the feeling of a dangerous pull near his cheek makes him think the urge to smile wasn’t wholly ignored by his beat to shit body, fucking progress.

“So think of it just like a,” he hums, then snaps his fingers as he lands on: “suggestion! A suggestion. Like me, just, putting it out there, which I usually do before anyone feels the same way anyway so this is just like, variation on the theme, but,” and Steve’s eyes are so big, Eddie’s never seen them looks this way before while Steve tips his whole face so Eddie can watch before he can sit up or turn his neck, must be fucking painful but he doesn’t even flinch, and Eddie’s only ever just kinda fallen for the puppy droop of those gorgeous eyes. Now they’re all, big and wide and bright and breathless and holy shit, Eddie’s really is just so screwedbest thing ever.

“I want to take you to dinner, a movie.”

Okay, hold up. That idea, said out loud and meant and directed to him: that might be the best thing ever.

“Maybe a drive in so no one will see if you let me hold your hand, or put my arm around you, or start necking with you halfway through,” like that isn’t making Eddie wonder if he just can’t feel the hard on every piece of him is very convinced he has to have right now, if his body can actually pony up just yet.

“If you want, of course. We could go slow,” and it’s like Steve’s thought about it, like this isn’t just adrenaline and near-death and zero impulse control. It’s most like he…like he actually wants. “Just a movie, even like at my house. Or yours. After they,” Steve clears his throat, the only part he’s even hinted awkwardness in; “after they take care of that.”

Ah. Right. Eddie probably does now have a trailer anymore.

Weird how little he’s caring about that at the moment.

“I could cook, I’m not bad at it,” Steve’s ploughing in with secret knowledge because: Harrington. Apron. Sauce on his cheek. KO-fucking punch to the heart, no survivors.

“Takeout’s fine too, I’d get whatever you wanted,” he pivots before trialing of, chewing his bottom lip then saying a little softer:

“But I would look up recipes too, practice to learn your favorite foods.”

And maybe Eddie really was never supposed to survive the Upside Down. He just maybe completely misinterpreted the way he was gonna fuckin’ die .

“I’d kiss you at the door if that’s okay, if that’s not to far,” then Steve’s bit-sparkle eyes darken even in the hell-dim around them; “or take you to bed if you wanted, but only as much as you were sure.”

And y’known how Eddie’s heat’s been flippy-flopping?

What it starts doing then leave that schoolgirl shit to dhame.

“I want to date you, basically,” and Steve’s shoulders are all squared up, like he’s making a pitch that has any chance of failing, and Eddie does have some working knowing of the past failures…thing, but he genuinely believes those fuckers have been at least partially brain dead to leave a man like this free for the taking, by Eddie of all fucking people.

“I want to try, and see if we can be something,” and the way he says those words, it’s…it’s like a soft perfect flame in Eddie’s chest, the first thing he thinks he can feel again fucking perfectly right,

“‘Cause fuck Eddie, I’ve been looking for something for what feels like forever, and the only thing I keep coming back to for any of it is thinking about you, and ain’t that a plot twist, the deepening of the idea that any of this stretched last what started in that fucking boathouse. “Had a whole-ass sexual awakening over you when you started shepherding my kids, can’t let that go to waste, man.”

And holy shit, dude. Eddie can’t leave him hanging on that confession no matter how mostly-carefree his smile stretches. Because Steve’s been in it since last fall?

Well, Eddie’s not one to easily be outdone.

“What?” Steve squints at Eddie’s face which…okay. He probably looks absurd but he’s trying really hard here, and miming isn’t easy when your muscles don’t want to get on board, yeah?

“Are you,” Steve scrunches his nose; tips his head; considers; “are you trying to,” he frowns, like he’s ready to dismiss what he’s guessing but then says fuck it and leaps:

“Are you trying to whistle?”

Yes, oh my god, sign him up for his marriage license for real, they’re meant to fucking be.

It takes Steve a second to make sense of the absurdity, and the fact that it’s only a second is a feat in itself:

“When I was a lifeguard?”

Eddie watches the timeframe, the length of admittedly varying types and depths but always constant infatuation, start to sink in and then:

“Jesus, Munson, for real?”

And lips are coming for his lips, and he’s real hopeful he can feel them this time but: no. Not yet.

But they fill his lungs up quick and full where he’s getting better which breathing by the minute, but. Any but if a boost is appreciated.

Especially from those lips, felt fully yet or not.

“That’s just because I’m gonna lift you up here in a second to crry you, and it’s gonna hurt like fuck no matter how gentle I try to be,” Steve warns him; “so breathe as slow as you can until I can lay you back down topside.”

Right. Right, because…the Upside Down was breaking apart and they’ve been here how long, fuck, they need to get a mov on…probably.

But Steve doesn’t seem concerned about anything but getting his arms around Eddie to pick him up just right, and then staring at him all star-bright bbsome more, and that’s…way more pressing, to be honest.

“But when we get there,” Steve glances behind him; “how about we look into doing that in a way that’s more spit-swapping, less rescue breathing, that cool?”

And holy fucking shit, Eddie genuinely believes right now that he could fall in love with this motherfucker, what the actual hell.

That, and he thinks he’s gonna enjoy it, to boot.

Jesus H. Christ on a goddamn cracker—

He’s looking forward to it more than the air in his fucking lungs could even hope to rank.

✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @ajeff855 @askitwithflours @awkwardgravity1 @bookworm0690 @bumblebeecuttlefishes @captain--low @depressed-freak13 @dragoon-ze-great @dreamercec @dreamwatch @dreamy-jeans137 @estrellami-1 @goodolefashionedloverboi @grtwdsmwhr @gunsknivesandplaid @hiei-harringtonmunson @hbyrde36 @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @kimsnooks @live-laugh-love-dietrich @mensch-anthropos-human @nerdyglassescheeseychick @notaqueenakhaleesi @ollyxar @pearynice @perseus-notjackson @pretend-theres-a-name-here

divider credit here and here

[pdriesta]

CHAPTER ONE

"baby, i'm talkin' crazy, i need you right in my space"

pairing — trentxblack!r&b artist

tropes — fake dating, enemies-to-lovers

warnings — sexual tension, toxic relationships, mature themes (minors dni)

word count — 10k

summary — y/n, a rising r&b star, is stuck in toxic situationships, with tabloids constantly overshadowing her music. to fix her image, her team pushes her into a fake relationship with liverpool’s trent alexander-arnold. both reluctant, they soon realize keeping things strictly business isn't so simple. will pretending to be in love stay a game, or turn into something real?

an —if you're expecting trent from my other works, turn away.

masterlist

trent sat in his living room, staring out the window, his mind still replaying the scene at the café. he had seen his fair share of fiery women, but something about y/n’s reaction had struck him in a way he didn’t expect. the way she stood up, her voice dripping with disdain as she called him "just another guy"—it hit deeper than he wanted to admit. he wasn’t sure who he thought he was when he brushed her off earlier, but she was no pushover. there was a power in her, an undeniable confidence that he wasn’t used to. the women around him usually gave in, smiling or flirting back, charmed by who he was and what came with his name. but y/n? she had no interest in any of that. she didn’t even seem to care that he was trent alexander-arnold.

the memory of her walking out, leaving him sitting there speechless, gnawed at him. maybe it was that she had the guts to talk down to him. maybe it was that she hadn’t flinched when he poked at her about sancho. or maybe it was that, deep down, what she said about him being "just another guy" got under his skin. for the first time in a long time, someone didn’t care about his football career or his fame. to her, he was just another obstacle in her way. it bothered him more than he’d like to admit.

he sighed heavily, leaning back into the couch as his older brother, tyler, walked in with his phone in hand. "you ready?" tyler asked, a raised brow signaling that it was time for their meeting at y/n’s record label. 

trent didn’t respond at first, still caught up in his thoughts about her. what exactly had convinced him to say yes to this arrangement after how the café meeting went? maybe it was her fire, or maybe it was because, despite his stubbornness, he realized she wasn’t the type of woman he could push around. whatever it was, he found himself agreeing to it.

“yeah, let’s get this over with,” trent finally muttered, standing up. tyler gave him a knowing look but didn’t say anything. he knew trent well enough to know something was off, but now wasn’t the time to push for answers.

they walked into the label’s sleek, modern office building, and the tension was thick in the air. as soon as they stepped into the room, trent saw y/n. she was already seated at the table, an iced americano in front of her, her expression a mix of boredom and frustration. she didn’t even bother to look up when they entered, her focus entirely on her phone as she absentmindedly stirred her drink. she exuded a kind of power that wasn’t loud, but it demanded attention. it was in her posture, the way she held herself like she didn’t have time for anyone’s nonsense.

trent couldn’t help but admire that about her, even though he’d been on the receiving end of her sharp tongue. she wasn’t here to play games, and that was clear from the second they sat down. across from them were their respective lawyers, along with tyler and ayesha, y/n’s manager, who greeted them with a polite, business-like nod.

"shall we get started?" ayesha said, her voice calm but firm. "we’re here to finalize the terms of your arrangement. the contract outlines a public relationship for the next six months, though that timeline is subject to change depending on y/n’s upcoming album cycle."

trent’s gaze flickered to y/n, who hadn’t said a word since they arrived. she was still scrolling on her phone, acting completely indifferent to the entire situation. the tension between them was palpable, but he wasn’t sure if it was just from their earlier encounter or something else entirely. either way, she was clearly pissed about being here.

he leaned back in his chair, watching her, waiting for some kind of reaction as ayesha and tyler discussed the details of their agreement. "when will that be?" trent finally asked, breaking his silence and hoping to get some kind of rise out of her.

y/n’s eyes snapped up from her phone, and for a split second, her fiery gaze locked with his. “when it’s done,” she shot back flatly, before immediately turning her attention back to her phone, completely dismissing him.

trent clenched his jaw, trying to keep his frustration in check. she really wasn’t going to make this easy, and he could already tell. tyler and ayesha exchanged awkward glances, clearly sensing the tension, and the lawyers shuffled through their papers, ignoring the exchange altogether.

“right,” tyler said, clearing his throat. “so, as outlined, there will be public outings—dinners, events, and a few social media posts to solidify the relationship in the public eye. everything will be staged, nothing too intimate, just enough to get the media talking.”

ayesha nodded in agreement, then turned to y/n, who was still ignoring trent’s presence entirely. “you can continue to see other people, as long as it doesn’t get out. discretion is key here.”

trent's eyes darted back to y/n, watching closely for her reaction. he knew her and sancho were still a thing, whether they admitted it or not. he half-expected her to flinch or at least react, but she didn’t. she remained composed, her expression unreadable, though her fingers gripped her iced americano a bit tighter. 

ayesha let out a small laugh. “and now, officially, you two will be the new power couple. i’m sure the media’s going to eat this up.”

“lucky us,” y/n muttered, her tone dripping with sarcasm as she stood, abruptly signaling that the meeting was over for her. she grabbed her bag and glanced at ayesha. “i’m leaving. call me if anything else needs signing. thank you,” the last sentiment towards the lawyers and teh older alexander-arnold. 

trent opened his mouth to say something—he wasn’t sure what, maybe to call her out on her attitude or just to get a final word in—but before he could, she was already out the door, leaving behind the faint scent of her perfume and a palpable wave of irritation. 

tyler sighed, shaking his head. "well, that went well."

trent stayed silent, watching the door y/n had just stormed through. something about her made him uneasy, but it wasn’t just anger. it was something else entirely. he wasn’t sure if this arrangement was going to work, but one thing was clear—he was in for a hell of a ride.

y/n lay tangled in the sheets, jadon’s arm draped over her waist as her mind raced. the heat from their earlier encounter lingered, her skin still buzzing from the familiar feel of his lips, his touch. it was a routine, one they’d fallen into easily. whenever the world seemed to press too hard on her—first with trent, then the label's relentless pressure to churn out more love songs—jadon was the one she went to. it didn’t make sense, not when she knew he wasn’t good for her. but something about him had always been hard to resist.

y/n lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the sheets tangled around her bare legs. jadon was still beside her, his arm lazily draped across her waist, breathing softly against her neck. it was natural now—this. their routine. they’d done it what felt like a thousand times before. same bed, same space, same empty words exchanged afterward. she wasn’t proud of it, and every time she swore it would be the last, something about him pulled her back.

her mum’s voice echoed in her mind, words of wisdom passed down in her mother tongue, reminding her that no one was perfect. but y/n knew her imperfection had a name—jadon sancho. no matter how much she tried to distance herself, there was something about him that kept her tethered. maybe it was the charm, the way he always knew exactly what to say, or maybe it was the way he’d smile at her like she was the only one in the room. she wasn’t sure anymore.

slipping out of bed, she began to pull on her clothes, moving with the kind of casual ease that came with familiarity. jadon watched her from where he lay, his arm tucked under his head, eyes half-lidded as he smirked at her.

reaching for her clothes, jadon shifted behind her, his voice low and heavy with sleep. “you leaving already?”

y/n didn’t turn around, pulling her sweats up as she spoke. “yeah, i have to go.”

he sat up slightly, watching her with that knowing smirk that always made her weak. “since when do you rush off after?” his gaze was playful, but there was a question underneath. 

normally, she would’ve stayed. they’d order food, maybe watch a movie or talk about nothing for hours. dates, in secret, where they’d avoid the paparazzi and pretend their situation wasn’t what it was—complicated, undefined, and utterly toxic. but this time, something felt different.

“it’s not like that,” she mumbled, slipping her shirt on and finally turning to face him. jadon’s dark eyes were studying her, the air between them thick with an unspoken tension. 

he chuckled softly, but there was a slight edge to it, one she noticed immediately. “not like that? or is it ‘cause of your new ‘boyfriend’?” he leaned back, propping himself up on his elbows, clearly amused. “you really do have a type, huh?”

y/n froze for a second, the mention of trent hitting a nerve she didn’t expect. “trent isn’t my boyfriend,” she said through gritted teeth, grabbing her bag off the floor.

jadon tilted his head, still smirking. “right. just like i’m not your boyfriend either, huh?”

her heart skipped a beat at his words. he wasn’t wrong, and that was part of the problem. the truth was, no matter how many times she told herself she could stop, she always ended up back here—back with him. and despite the casual nature of their relationship, there were feelings they both danced around, never acknowledging, never pushing past the surface.

“you don’t get to ask about trent,” y/n said sharply, more to shut him up than anything else.

“oh, but i do,” jadon shot back, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing. he crossed the room, his shirt hanging loosely off his shoulders as he moved closer, the playful spark in his eyes now clouded with something else—something heavier. “he and i played together, you know. on the national team. didn’t know you’d end up with another footballer. thought i was your only one.”

y/n rolled her eyes, annoyed at his cockiness. “don’t make this about you.”

“it’s always about me,” he countered, stepping into her space, his voice low as his hand ghosted over her arm. “you’re here, aren’t you?”

she felt a shiver run down her spine, his touch lighting a fire in her that she hated she couldn’t control. “i came here because i needed to clear my head,” she replied, keeping her voice steady. “but we’re not anything, jadon. we never were.”

his eyes darkened, the smug grin on his lips faltering for the briefest moment. “right, of course,” he said quietly. “because you’ll keep telling yourself that until you believe it, yeah?”

y/n exhaled sharply, trying to focus on anything but the way his presence still affected her. “you’re impossible.”

“you always say that, but you keep coming back, y/n,” he murmured, his voice softening as he brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “you don’t think i see it? the way you’re always fighting this. fighting us. i know you feel it too.”

she bit her lip, swallowing the lump in her throat. it was true—there was something between them, something raw and unspoken. but it was also messy, confusing, and more often than not, it hurt.

“i don’t know why i keep coming back,” she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. “but i can’t do it anymore. i have to stop.”

jadon’s jaw clenched, the words hitting him harder than he wanted to show. “and what, you think trent’s gonna be different? you think you won’t be back here again, with me?”

her heart raced, the pull between them stronger than she wanted to admit. “i can’t, jadon. not this time.”

“so that’s it?” he asked, stepping back slightly, his voice quieter now. “you’re really gonna walk away, just like that?”

y/n closed her eyes for a moment, gathering herself before she opened the door. “yeah. i have to.”

“you’ll be back,” he said, but there was a hint of doubt in his voice this time.

she hesitated for a moment, glancing over her shoulder. “not this time,” she whispered, and with that, she walked out, leaving him standing there, his expression unreadable.

as she left his apartment, the reality of her words sank in. she wasn’t sure if she was making the right decision, but what she did know was that things couldn’t stay the same. and as much as she hated to admit it, trent had already complicated things in ways she hadn’t expected.

y/n sped down the road, her fingers gripping the steering wheel as her mind replayed the same tired loop of thoughts. she had never been good at keeping her emotions in check—every feeling she had, whether frustration, joy, or heartbreak, found its way into the songs she wrote. the singing came later, a natural extension of the emotions she couldn’t keep inside. despite the confident persona she carried now, y/n had always been shy, even timid as a child. she still remembered being in the choir at her all-girls school, hiding in the back until her teacher forced her to take a solo. if it hadn’t been for that push, she would’ve never discovered the voice that would eventually take her all over the world. 

but now, that voice only seemed to echo with the messy frustrations of her life, and one name lingered in every song—jadon. 

her latest album was a catalog of every high and low she’d been through with him, even if she’d never admit it out loud. the media had no clue, of course, but jadon? he knew. it was all in the lyrics—the tragedy of their situationship strung together verse by verse. they were raw, exposing parts of herself she was still too prideful to confess directly. the way he always knew she’d come back, the way he got under her skin… it was all there, hidden in plain sight.

she groaned, slamming the car door as she parked outside zaia’s house. she couldn’t keep doing this. couldn’t keep falling into the same pattern. the moment she stepped into her best friend's cozy, suburban home, the warmth and stability hit her hard. everything about zaia’s life was so… put together. the complete opposite of the chaotic mess y/n had going on. while zaia was happily engaged to her childhood sweetheart, planning a wedding and living in domestic bliss, y/n was the media’s favorite "mess," the girl who couldn’t seem to keep a man, at least according to every tabloid headline.

she stormed inside without knocking, not bothering with pleasantries. "where’s the wine?" y/n called out, tossing her bag onto the couch before collapsing into it, her face buried in the cushions.

zaia appeared from the kitchen, a bemused look on her face as she poured a glass of wine and handed it over. "bad day, huh?"

"bad week," y/n grumbled, sitting up to take the glass. "i swear, if one more thing goes wrong, i’m going to lose it."

zaia raised an eyebrow, settling into the armchair across from her. "let me guess—jadon?"

y/n rolled her eyes but didn’t deny it. she never had to with zaia. "he just… he makes me so mad. and i don’t know why i keep going back. it’s like he knows exactly how to push my buttons, and i fall for it every time."

zaia sighed, leaning forward slightly. "you’re too prideful, y/n. you know you’re in too deep with him, but instead of cutting him off, you write songs about him. we both know ‘girls need love’ was about him.”

y/n scoffed, though she knew zaia was right. "i write about what i feel. it’s not always about him."

"you’ve gotta leave him alone, y/n," zaia sighed, shaking her head. "he's a dead end, and your songs say it all. i mean, come on, you basically spilled everything in ‘playing games.’ you wrote ‘you say you want me, but you act like you don’t’—who else could that be about?"

y/n groaned, sinking deeper into the couch. "that could be about anyone."

"oh, please." zaia rolled her eyes. "and then there’s ‘girls need love.’.’ if that’s not about jadon stringing you along, then i don’t know what is. you’ve practically handed him a whole mixtape of your mess together."

"it’s not that deep," y/n muttered, though she knew zaia had a point. the songs weren’t just vague reflections of her life—they were practically confessions. every line felt like a piece of the complicated puzzle that was her and jadon. 

"girl, it is that deep," zaia shot back. "you’ve got a whole album about this man, and he’s still playing the same games. you need to cut him off."

y/n slumped further into the couch, the truth of zaia’s words sinking in more than she wanted to admit. "it’s not that simple. you don’t get it."

"i do get it. you’re addicted to him. it’s like you love the chaos," zaia said, her voice soft but firm. "but it’s not healthy. you’re wasting your time, your energy, on someone who’s never going to change."

y/n stared down at her wine glass, swirling the dark liquid inside. zaia was right. she always was. but something in her—whether it was pride or stubbornness or something else entirely—kept pulling her back to jadon, even when she knew it was a losing game. "he’s not that bad," she muttered, more to herself than to zaia.

zaia scoffed. "he’s worse, y/n. every time you get close to something good, he reels you back in just to keep you from moving on."

y/n bit her lip, the frustration bubbling inside her again. she hated that zaia could see her so clearly, even when she tried to hide behind the excuses. "it’s just… i don’t know. i don’t know why i can’t stop."

"because you don’t want to," zaia said plainly. "but you need to."

silence hung in the air for a moment before zaia, ever the pragmatic one, switched topics. "so, what’s the deal with trent?"

y/n groaned again, burying her face in her hands. "don’t even get me started on him. i hate him."

"you sure about that?" zaia teased, raising an eyebrow.

"yes," y/n shot back. "he’s arrogant and—ugh. just no. the whole thing with him is a disaster waiting to happen."

zaia leaned back in her chair, a sly smile playing on her lips. "maybe he’s exactly what you need. a distraction. someone to finally get your mind off jadon."

y/n narrowed her eyes. "a distraction? you think this PR relationship is going to help me forget sancho?"

"why not? he’s easy on the eyes, you know, and he’s not jadon. that’s already a win."

"it’s not that simple, zai. we signed contracts, there are rules… and i don’t need another distraction. i need to focus on my music, not some fake relationship."

zaia gave her a pointed look. "maybe you need a break from the music. all it’s been doing lately is giving you more reasons to run back to jadon. maybe trent’s exactly what you need to finally cut the cord."

y/n stared at her friend, unsure of how to respond. she didn’t want to admit it, but maybe zaia had a point. maybe pretending to be with trent, even if it was just for the cameras, was the clean break she needed.

later that week, trent found himself pacing around his living room, phone in hand. it had been days since the meeting at the label, and he hadn't heard a word from y/n. it wasn’t like he expected her to reach out—she’d made it pretty clear how much she didn’t want anything to do with him. but the silence, the radio silence, was starting to get under his skin. she was being petty, and for some reason, that irritated him even more.

he glanced down at the number he'd gotten from ayesha, sighing. "guess i'm the one who has to be the adult here," he muttered, dialing the number.

the phone rang for what felt like an eternity before a soft, unfamiliar voice finally answered.

"hello?" y/n’s voice came through, cautious and unsure, as if she didn’t know who it was.

trent smirked to himself. of course, she didn’t save my number.

"y/n. it’s trent."

there was a brief pause on the other end. he could almost imagine her blinking in surprise, her posture stiffening at the unexpected call.

"trent," she repeated slowly, as if testing the name on her tongue. "how did you get my number?"

"ayesha," he said simply, leaning back against the kitchen counter. "i figured we needed to talk, seeing as you’ve been avoiding me since last week."

"i haven’t been avoiding you." her tone was sharp, defensive. "i’ve just been... busy."

trent rolled his eyes. "right. well, we can’t exactly keep this up. we need to figure this out sooner rather than later."

"figure what out?" her voice was laced with irritation, like she didn’t even want to entertain the conversation.

"the arrangement. the contract," trent said, trying to keep his voice steady, though her attitude was starting to get under his skin again. "we have to be on the same page if this is gonna work."

there was another pause, and he could hear her exhale on the other end. "fine. when and where?"

he raised an eyebrow at her sudden change of heart. "you’re agreeing to meet?"

"didn’t you just say we need to?" she shot back, sounding exasperated. "let’s just get it over with. when?"

"tonight. my place," he said quickly, not giving her a chance to back out. "i’ll text you the address."

there was a brief hesitation before she agreed. "fine. i’ll be there."

trent hung up, a sense of relief washing over him—but also a lingering annoyance. this wasn’t going to be easy, but at least she was willing to meet. 

now all he had to do was figure out how to navigate whatever was about to come next. because if their phone call was anything to go by, this arrangement was already off to a rocky start.

trent tossed his phone onto the counter, the clatter echoing through the quiet room. he ran a hand through his hair, trying to shake off the strange feeling creeping up on him. it was just business, just a deal they were both locked into for the next six months. but something about the way y/n had been so indifferent, so cold on the phone, kept replaying in his mind.

he leaned back against the counter, staring out the window. his thoughts drifted, uninvited, to jadon sancho. were they still seeing each other? were they still tangled up in whatever mess they had going on? the idea of y/n being laid up with jadon, while pretending to be in a relationship with him, didn’t sit right. it wasn't just about the contract or the public image—it was something else, something more personal. 

he hated the thought of her, in the middle of the night, pressed against jadon’s chest, laughing at something stupid he said. he knew sancho; they’d been teammates. he’d seen the way women flocked to him, the easy smile, the charm he laid on so thick. but y/n —she was something else. she wasn’t just another girl. he’d seen the way she carried herself, the way she didn’t let people, especially men, walk all over her. that fiery tongue, the way she wasn’t impressed by who he was. it had struck a nerve, one that was still stinging.

what did she even see in sancho?

trent couldn't help but scoff at the thought. he’s your type, sancho would joke—like types meant anything when you were faking love for the cameras. but still, the idea of her being involved with him while they carried on this charade made trent’s stomach twist. it wasn’t jealousy, he told himself. no, it was just the optics of it, the idea that they couldn’t have their cover blown because y/n couldn't stay away from someone else.

trent crossed his arms, his irritation simmering as he recalled those nights at the club. he could still picture it: jadon, with that arrogant grin plastered on his face, always clinging to y/n like she was the only thing that mattered in the crowded room. it grated on trent's nerves to see how sancho paraded around her, as if he had it all figured out, as if she was just another trophy to display. 

but the truth was, it was clear to anyone who bothered to look closely: y/n had the upper hand. 

she played her cards with effortless grace, keeping sancho in the palm of her delicate hand. there was a fire in her eyes, a spark that made her untouchable, and yet, there she was, tangled up in a relationship that was anything but simple. while sancho flexed his charm and dominance, y/n stood confidently, unbothered, perfectly aware of the control she wielded. 

trent hated that he was even thinking about this. it was just another reason to keep his distance, to remind himself that they were supposed to be faking it, not getting caught up in whatever drama her past with jadon might bring. but the more he replayed those moments in his mind, the more he questioned whether she had really moved on from sancho or if she was just playing a deeper game, one that trent didn’t fully understand. 

did she only agree to use him to get back at jadon?

he couldn't help but wonder how she would fit into this new chapter of his life, this ridiculous arrangement they were about to start. 

he pushed himself off the counter, trying to shake the thoughts away. he needed to focus on the contract, the arrangement, and how to make it work. but no matter how hard he tried, the idea of y/n and jadon—together, intimately—kept gnawing at the back of his mind.

what kind of game was she playing?

trent couldn’t deny the tension building within him as he stood outside y/n’s condo, waiting for her to join him for the charity event. this was their second public outing together, another step in their carefully curated façade. the night was supposed to be simple: smiles for the cameras, casual conversation with his teammates, and just enough chemistry to keep the tabloids buzzing.

but nothing about y/n was simple, and he felt the weight of that as he stared at her building, checking his phone for the fifth time.

when the door finally opened, he looked up, and his breath hitched in his throat. y/n stood framed by the soft glow of her entryway, draped in a black gown that demanded attention. the corset top sculpted her figure flawlessly, emphasizing her curves and leaving just enough to the imagination. a black fur coat hung over her shoulders, but it couldn’t mask how stunning she looked.

“you’re staring,” she teased as she approached, her heels clicking against the polished floor.

trent blinked, realizing he hadn’t said a word. “just… making sure you’re ready,” he muttered, clearing his throat and shoving his hands into his pockets.

“oh, i’m ready,” she said, her lips curving into a knowing smirk as she brushed past him toward his car.

in the confines of the car, the tension was palpable. the scent of her perfume filled the space, soft yet intoxicating, and every shift of her body drew his attention. the slit in her gown revealed a flash of her leg when she crossed them, and trent gripped the steering wheel a little tighter.

“you alright there?” she asked, her voice laced with amusement as she caught him glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

“yeah. fine,” he replied curtly, focusing on the road.

when they arrived at the venue, the coat check left him momentarily speechless. as y/n slipped off her coat, her gown came into full view, shimmering under the light and accentuating every inch of her. the neckline dipped just enough to make his throat dry, and the fitted corset made her look like a vision of elegance and allure combined.

he didn’t say anything, but his jaw tightened as he noticed the appreciative glances she was drawing from others in the room.

“you good?” she asked, raising an eyebrow as she handed her coat to the attendant.

“fine,” he said, his tone clipped.

but he wasn’t fine. not when he spent the first hour of the event watching as his teammates approached her, drawn in by her charm. he had deliberately kept his distance, convinced that avoiding her was the best way to keep his own emotions in check. but when he saw ryan gravenberch leaning a little too close as she laughed at something he said, trent felt his patience snap.

as he approached them, he caught the tail end of their conversation. y/n was smiling, her posture relaxed, and ryan looked equally at ease.

“everything okay here?” trent asked, his voice deceptively casual as he joined them.

y/n glanced at him, her smile fading slightly as she registered his tone. “yeah, everything’s fine. ryan was just telling me about—”

“i bet he was,” trent interrupted, his eyes narrowing as he glanced at his teammate. “you’ve got a girlfriend, don’t you, ryan?”

ryan frowned, straightening up. “uh, yeah. i do.”

“right,” trent said, his gaze shifting to y/n. “you’ve got a type, don’t you? footballers.”

y/n’s smile faltered, the slight stiffening of her shoulders the only indication she’d heard him. but trent could tell. he saw the flash of hurt in her eyes, the way she blinked rapidly as if trying to push it away.

“excuse me,” she said suddenly, standing up and walking away from the table, her posture rigid as she stormed off toward the coat check.

trent cursed under his breath, realizing his mistake. they’d been getting along—she’d even seemed to be enjoying herself—and he’d ruined it. again.

he rushed after her, weaving through the crowd until he finally caught up to her at the coat check. “y/n, wait,” he called, reaching for her arm, but she pulled away, her expression icy.

“don’t,” she snapped, turning to face him, her eyes blazing with anger. “if you’re just going to play into their hand and paint me out to be some sort of slut, we might as well rip up that contract right now.”

trent blinked, taken aback by her words. “that’s not what i—”

“no, trent, don’t even try,” she interrupted, her voice shaking slightly. “you don’t get to slut shame me. you don’t get to make comments like that just because i’ve been involved with someone you know.”

“you really think that little of me, don’t you? that i’d flirt with someone who has a girlfriend? that i’d stoop that low?” she said, her voice trembling slightly with restrained fury.

“i didn’t say—”

“you didn’t have to,” she cut him off, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “you just implied it. because that’s what you think of me, isn’t it? just some girl who’s here for a good time, here to play the part you need me to play.”

trent opened his mouth to respond, but she wasn’t done.

“you don’t know a damn thing about me,” she said, her voice rising slightly. “and you clearly don’t care to. all you see is what you want to see, and that’s on you, not me.”

she turned on her heel, heading for the coat check, but he followed her, grabbing her arm gently.

“y/n, wait,” he said, his voice softer now.

“don’t,” she snapped, pulling her arm free. “if you’re just going to insult me and humiliate me in front of your teammates, don’t bother pretending to care now.”

“that’s not what I meant—”

“then what did you mean?” she demanded, her voice cracking slightly. “because it sure as hell sounded like you were slut-shaming me for talking to someone who was just being nice. god, even jadon—”

her voice broke off, and she shook her head, blinking back tears.

“what?” trent asked, his own frustration bubbling up. “even jadon what?”

“even jadon never made me feel this small,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “and that’s saying something.”

her words hit him like a punch to the gut, leaving him standing there, speechless, as she grabbed her coat and walked away.

-

the next day, guilt clung to trent like a second skin, heavy and suffocating. he was at training, but his head wasn’t in it. every missed pass, every half-hearted sprint, earned him sidelong glances from his teammates and sharp words from his coach. but nothing could pull him out of the haze he was in, the words y/n had thrown at him replaying in his mind like a broken record.

"even jadon never made me feel this small.”

he swallowed hard, his throat dry as the memory resurfaced again. the crack in her voice, the way she blinked back tears she refused to shed in front of him. the way she’d walked out, her coat clutched tightly around her like armor, leaving him standing there, too stunned to follow.

trent scrubbed a hand over his face, dragging himself back to the present as the whistle blew to end the session. he barely registered the chatter around him as he trudged off the pitch, his phone burning a hole in his pocket. he'd already called her twice this morning, only for it to go straight to voicemail. no response to his texts either.

she was airing him, and honestly, he couldn’t blame her.

meanwhile, y/n was at a café with zai, trying to push the events of the night before out of her mind. the warm, buzzing atmosphere should’ve been enough to distract her, but her thoughts kept drifting back to trent, to his sharp words and the guilt that had flashed in his eyes when she’d finally snapped.

“you’re quiet,” zai noted, taking a sip of her iced coffee. “and don’t tell me it’s nothing. i know that look.”

y/n sighed, stirring her tea absently. “it’s just... men.”

zai raised an eyebrow, leaning forward. “is this about trent? or jadon?”

the mention of his name made her flinch, and she hated how easily it still got under her skin. “it’s not about jadon,” she said, a little too quickly. “but it doesn’t matter. it’s just... the same story, different guy. i don’t know why i’m surprised anymore.”

zai frowned, concern flickering across her face. “what happened?”

y/n hesitated, debating whether she even wanted to get into it. but the weight on her chest was too much to carry alone. “he accused me of flirting with someone. like, out of nowhere. and when i tried to explain, he doubled down. it was like...” her voice trailed off, and she took a shaky breath. “it was like i was back there again, with jadon, having to defend myself for existing. except this time, it’s not even real. it’s fake, and it still hurts.”

zai reached across the table, squeezing her hand. “y/n, you don’t have to put up with this. fake or not.”

“i know,” she whispered, but even as she said it, her resolve wavered.

because the truth was, she did have to put up with it. the contract was clear, and the charity event was coming up fast. she had to face him again by the end of the week, had to plaster on a smile and pretend everything was fine for the cameras.

but in the quiet corners of her mind, the cracks were already forming. she thought about all the times she’d been here before, swallowing her pride, her hurt, just to keep the peace. with jadon, with other men before him, and now with trent.

it was always the same pattern. they’d charm her at first, make her believe she was special, different. and then, slowly, the cracks would show. the accusations, the jealousy, the little digs at her character that piled up until she didn’t even recognize herself anymore.

trent’s words from the night before rang in her ears again, sharp and cutting. she’d thought, maybe naively, that because this was fake, it wouldn’t hurt. that she could separate herself from it. but now, she wasn’t so sure.

“i’ll get through it,” she said finally, forcing a smile for zai’s sake. “it’s just one night. i’ve handled worse.”

but even as the words left her lips, she knew they were a lie. because no matter how much she tried to convince herself that this was just another performance, the truth was far messier.

she didn’t want to admit how deeply his words had cut, how much they reminded her of jadon and the way he used to chip away at her confidence until there was nothing left.

but at least with trent, it wasn’t real.

that thought was supposed to bring her comfort, but instead, it left a hollow ache in her chest. because if even something fake could hurt this much, what did that say about her?

that night, trent sat on the edge of his bed that night, phone in hand, staring at her contact. he’d tried calling her again after training, but still nothing. the silence was deafening, and he hated it. hated knowing he’d hurt her, hated the thought of her comparing him to jadon and coming up short.

he typed out another message, his thumb hovering over the send button.

"y/n, i’m sorry."

it wasn’t enough, he knew that. but he didn’t know what else to say. didn’t know how to fix the mess he’d made.

he hit send anyway, tossing his phone onto the nightstand. the apology sat there, unread, like a weight in the pit of his stomach.

the soft glow of string lights hanging over the patio of the upscale restaurant did little to mask the tension simmering between y/n and trent. their first public outing as a "couple" was supposed to be for show, a chance to create a picture-perfect moment for the cameras. but the peaceful evening was long gone, replaced by an undercurrent of bickering that neither of them could quite rein in.

trent sat across from her, arms crossed, clearly irritated as he watched y/n type away on her phone, her attention fully absorbed by whatever message she was sending. he knew exactly who it was. sancho. the very mention of his name was enough to ignite a spark of frustration in trent, and the fact that she was texting him right in front of him? it was pushing him to his limit.

“really?” trent muttered, his voice laced with annoyance. “you’re gonna sit there texting him all night?”

y/n didn’t even bother looking up, her thumb casually swiping across the screen as she typed. “jealous already? we’ve only been ‘dating’ for what—an hour?” she shot him a sideways glance, a smirk playing at her lips, knowing she was getting under his skin.

trent’s jaw tightened as he leaned forward slightly. “it’s not jealousy. it’s just pathetic that you’re still hung up on a guy who clearly doesn’t care about you.”

y/n’s eyebrows shot up, finally looking up from her phone to meet his gaze. “oh, so you’re keeping tabs on me now? since when do you care who i talk to?”

“i don’t,” he shot back, his voice sharper than he intended. “but if we’re supposed to be playing this fake relationship game, maybe you should stop texting the guy who’s making a fool out of you.”

y/n let out a low, amused laugh, clearly unfazed by his comment. “oh, please. jadon knows exactly what he’s doing, and so do i. you wouldn’t get it.”

trent scoffed, shaking his head. “yeah? and what’s that supposed to mean? you think he’s treating you right just because he sends a few sweet texts?”

y/n leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms with a smug smile. “he knows how to keep things interesting. maybe that’s something you could learn from him.”

trent’s eyes darkened, the muscle in his jaw twitching as he clenched his teeth. “yeah, well, from where i’m sitting, it looks like you’re the one doing all the chasing. does he even text you back as fast as you’re glued to your phone?”

y/n narrowed her eyes at him, her playful smirk slipping as his words hit a little too close to home. “funny. but you don’t know shit about what’s going on between me and jadon.”

“i know enough,” trent shot back, his voice low and laced with irritation. “i know he’s got you running in circles, thinking you’ve got him where you want him when really, he’s just stringing you along.”

y/n’s eyes flashed with defiance as she leaned forward, elbows resting on the table as she closed the distance between them. “you think you’ve got it all figured out, don’t you? jadon knows exactly what he’s doing, and so do i. i have him wrapped around my finger, not the other way around.”

trent leaned in closer, his eyes locked on hers, the tension between them thick enough to cut. “is that what you really think? because from where i’m sitting, you look like you’re trying way too hard to convince yourself of that.”

y/n didn’t flinch, her smirk returning as she dropped her voice to a teasing whisper. “why? you jealous, trent? does it bother you that i can have him, and you’re just playing pretend?”

before trent could respond, y/n leaned forward even further, deliberately letting the neckline of her top dip just enough to catch his attention. trent’s gaze flickered down for the briefest second—a moment so quick he hoped she wouldn’t notice. but she did. and y/n, ever the opportunist, wasn’t about to let it slide.

“oh?” she teased, her voice dripping with amusement. “you can’t even look me in the eye now, can you? maybe you’re not as unaffected as you pretend to be.”

trent’s face tightened, his expression darkening as he forced himself to meet her gaze again, refusing to let her win. “you really think everyone wants you, don’t you?” he muttered, his voice edged with frustration.

y/n leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest, clearly enjoying the game she was playing. “not everyone,” she said with a smirk, her eyes dancing with mischief. “but you do.”

trent scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. “you’re unbelievable.”

y/n raised an eyebrow, her smile never faltering. “unbelievable or right?”

trent exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair as he tried to keep his cool. “this is exactly what i mean. you’re so caught up in the attention, in thinking everyone’s after you, that you can’t see how messy this is.”

“messy?” y/n echoed, feigning innocence. “i don’t think it’s messy at all. i think you’re the one who’s flustered. i mean, it’s cute—your little attempt at being unaffected—but i know when a guy wants me.”

trent leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he glared at her. “you think i’m flustered? please. you’re just pissed because i’m not falling for your bullshit like sancho does.”

y/n chuckled, shaking her head. “nah, you’re pissed because deep down, you’re just as interested as he is. you’re just better at hiding it.”

trent’s eyes flashed with irritation. “if you think i’m interested, then you really don’t know me at all.”

“oh, i know you,” she shot back, her tone teasing but with a sharper edge now. “i know that little glance wasn’t just out of curiosity. you can act all high and mighty, but i can see right through you, trent.”

trent clenched his jaw, the muscle ticking as he forced himself to stay calm. “you’re so full of yourself, you know that?”

“maybe,” she shrugged, her smirk only growing wider. “but you’re still sitting here, aren’t you?”

trent let out a frustrated breath, leaning back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest. “yeah, well, someone’s gotta keep you in check.”

“oh, is that what you’re doing?” y/n teased, her voice light and mocking. “keeping me in check? because it seems like you’re the one who can’t handle the heat.”

trent’s eyes narrowed, his patience wearing thin. “you can play your games with sancho all you want, but don’t drag me into it.”

y/n’s smile widened as she leaned forward again, her voice dropping to a playful whisper. “who says i’m playing games? maybe i just like getting under your skin.”

trent’s gaze flickered to hers, his frustration clear in his expression. “trust me, you’re not getting under my skin. i just think it’s sad you’re still hung up on a guy who doesn’t care about you.”

y/n’s smirk faltered for a split second before she recovered, her tone sharp as she responded. “and i think it’s sad you’re unbothered when you clearly are.”

trent stared at her, the tension between them crackling like static in the air. they were supposed to be putting on a show, a fake relationship for the cameras, but the lines between reality and pretense were starting to blur. and as much as he hated to admit it, y/n was getting to him.

but he wasn’t about to let her know that. not yet, anyway.

they left the café with tension so thick it was suffocating, y/n’s heels clicking sharply against the pavement as she trailed slightly behind trent. he strode ahead, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, barely sparing her a glance. the entire date had been a disaster—if you could even call it a date. trent hadn’t looked at her, let alone spoken to her, during the meal. he barely acknowledged her presence, his eyes fixed anywhere but on her.

y/n bit her lip, her frustration bubbling to the surface. she was tired of his dismissive attitude. “you know, for someone who’s supposed to be my date,” she called out, sarcasm dripping from her tone, “you’re really bad at it.”

trent didn’t slow down. his long strides made her struggle to keep up, but he didn’t care. “i’m not here to hold your hand,” he said flatly, still refusing to turn around.

y/n quickened her pace, falling into step beside him. “clearly. you’re more interested in ignoring me than pretending this is a real date.”

his jaw tightened, but his expression remained cold. “maybe i just don’t feel like playing into your games.”

“games?” she scoffed, crossing her arms. “what games, trent? this whole fake-dating thing was your idea, remember?”

he finally stopped walking, turning to face her with an irritated glare. “yeah, fake,” he muttered, his voice sharp. “but you’re treating it like it’s just another excuse to text him.”

y/n blinked, caught off guard. “what are you even talking about?”

trent’s lips curled into a bitter smirk. “you’ve been glued to your phone all night. let me guess—sancho?”

her stomach twisted at the mention of jadon. “oh my god, you’re unbelievable,” she muttered, shaking her head. “i wasn’t texting him.”

“sure,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “because it’s not obvious or anything. you’re always distracted, smiling at his messages. it’s pathetic.”

her chest tightened, his words cutting deeper than she wanted to admit. “you don’t know what you’re talking about,” she snapped, her voice rising. “and even if i was texting him, it’s none of your business.”

trent’s expression darkened as he stepped closer, his tone low but biting. “it is my business. we’re supposed to be selling this ‘happy couple’ act, but you can’t even pretend to be here with me.”

she took a step back, her frustration boiling over. “you ignored me the entire night, trent! you barely even looked at me, and now you’re trying to make me the problem?”

he scoffed, his voice cold. “why bother looking at someone who’s clearly not interested in being here?”

“are you serious right now?” y/n’s voice cracked, the weight of his accusations suffocating her. “you don’t know anything about me.”

“don’t i?” he shot back. “every time we’re together, it’s like you’re somewhere else. you’re not here, y/n. you’re always thinking about someone else.”

her throat tightened as tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. she refused to let them fall. “you’re wrong,” she said softly, her voice trembling. “this isn’t about jadon. it’s about you.”

trent’s brows furrowed, his confusion momentarily breaking through his anger. “me?”

“yes, you,” she said, her voice steadier now. “you’re so focused on who you think i’m texting, you can’t see what’s right in front of you. you’ve been cold and distant all night, and i’m the one who’s pathetic?”

his mouth opened as if to respond, but no words came out. for the first time, he looked at her—really looked at her—and the guilt in his eyes was unmistakable.

“i want to leave,” y/n said finally, her voice firm. she turned away before he could say anything else, her heels clicking briskly as she walked away.

“y/n—” he started, his voice softer now, but she didn’t stop.

“don’t, trent,” she said, her voice breaking. “i’m done for tonight.”

he stood there, watching her disappear into the crowd, the weight of her words settling heavily in his chest. but his pride kept him silent, rooted in place as she walked out of sight.

the second date was arranged like the first—some picturesque café on a quiet street, perfect for photographs and social media buzz. but this time, y/n wasn’t going to be the one trying. she was done with his cold shoulder, his sharp words, and the way he acted like her presence was some sort of inconvenience. if trent wanted to treat this arrangement like a game, then fine. she’d play it better.

she arrived on time, wearing a sleek black midi dress and a pair of delicate heels that gave her an air of effortless elegance. she hadn’t bothered to look for him when she walked up to the café. instead, she let the hostess guide her to their reserved table on the patio. trent was already seated, casually scrolling through his phone, his jawline sharp as ever, and a faint furrow in his brow.

"y/n," he greeted, glancing up briefly before looking back down at his screen.

she didn’t respond, her lips pressing into a polite smile as she pulled out her chair and sat down. the silence stretched, taut and uncomfortable, but she kept her composure, smoothing her dress over her knees and ignoring the way his gaze flickered toward her once, twice.

he cleared his throat, finally slipping his phone into his pocket. “you’re quiet today,” he said, leaning back in his chair.

she picked up the menu, her eyes scanning the items as if she hadn’t heard him.

trent’s brows knit together. “everything alright?”

still, she said nothing, her attention fixed on the menu. she wasn’t being overtly rude, but her indifference was deliberate, precise.

“y/n,” he said again, more firmly this time. “i asked you a question.”

her lips twitched, a hint of amusement threatening to show, but she kept her expression neutral. finally, she lowered the menu, setting it down carefully on the table. she met his gaze for a fleeting moment before looking away again, pretending to admire the flowers in the centerpiece.

trent let out a frustrated exhale, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table. “are you seriously not going to talk to me?”

she tilted her head slightly, her eyes still fixed on the flowers as if they were the most fascinating thing in the world. her silence was driving him mad, and she knew it.

“alright,” he said, his tone sharp with irritation. “what’s this about? the other night?”

she finally looked at him then, her expression blank, save for the faintest arch of her brow. his frustration deepened, the tension in his shoulders more visible now.

“look,” he started, running a hand through his curls, “if you’re mad about what i said, i—”

her phone buzzed on the table, and without a word, she picked it up, unlocking it with a casual swipe and scrolling through her notifications.

trent’s jaw clenched. “are you serious?”

she ignored him, tapping out a quick reply to a text before setting her phone back down. she leaned back in her chair, her hands folded neatly in her lap, and gave him a look that said are you done?

trent leaned closer, his voice low and biting. “you’re acting like a child.”

that earned him a reaction—her lips curved into a small, knowing smirk. “oh, now you care about how i’m acting?” she said sweetly, her voice light but cutting. “interesting.”

he blinked, caught off guard by her sudden words. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“nothing,” she said with a shrug, her tone dripping with mock innocence. “just an observation.”

he sat back, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared at her. “so this is payback, huh? silent treatment? acting like i’m not here?”

her smile widened, but she didn’t respond. instead, she reached for her water glass, taking a slow sip, her eyes never leaving his.

“y/n,” he said, his voice firm now, “stop playing around.”

“why?” she asked, setting the glass down and leaning forward slightly. “don’t like it when someone treats you the way you treat them?”

trent’s mouth opened, then closed, as if he wasn’t sure how to respond. she had him cornered, and they both knew it.

“you’ve been impossible,” he said finally, his tone softer but still laced with frustration. “i’m trying here, alright?”

her brow shot up. “trying? really? because ignoring me, snapping at me, and barely looking at me the other night didn’t exactly scream effort.”

his jaw tightened, guilt flickering across his face for just a moment. “i was—” he hesitated, searching for the right words. “i wasn’t in the best mood.”

“clearly,” she said dryly, leaning back in her chair. “but you still managed to make it my problem.”

“i didn’t mean to,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “look, i know i’ve been... difficult. but this whole thing—” he gestured between them—“it’s not exactly easy, alright? pretending like this is real when it’s not.”

“not easy for you?” she repeated, her tone incredulous. “you think it’s a walk in the park for me? dealing with your attitude, your assumptions, your—” she cut herself off, shaking her head. “forget it.”

“no, go on,” he pressed, leaning closer. “say it.”

she met his gaze, her eyes flashing with irritation. “your ego,” she said bluntly. “you act like you’re the only one who has to deal with the pressure, like this whole thing revolves around you.”

his brows furrowed, her words clearly hitting a nerve. “that’s not what i think.”

“isn’t it?” she challenged. “because that’s exactly how it feels.”

trent sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. for a moment, he looked like he was going to argue, but then he just nodded. “maybe you’re right.”

her eyes widened slightly, surprised by his admission. “what?”

“you’re right,” he repeated, his voice more measured now. “i’ve been... selfish about this. i didn’t think about how it’s been for you.”

she studied him, trying to gauge whether he was being sincere. “and?”

“what do you want from me, y/n?” he asked, his voice sharp but tinged with desperation.

she stopped, too, slowly turning back to face him. for a moment, she just stood there, her phone in her hand, her expression unreadable. then, with deliberate slowness, she set her phone down on the small café table beside her and leaned back against the chair with her arms crossed.

that look.

it wasn’t just her posture, though that alone was commanding—poised and unapologetically confident. it was the way her light brown, bone-straight locks framed her face like a halo, each strand catching the golden light of the setting sun. her dark, glossy lips curved slightly, like she was on the verge of laughing at him. but it was her eyes that made his breath hitch, piercing and unyielding, filled with a quiet power that made him feel like she could see every corner of his soul.

trent felt pinned under her gaze, completely enthralled. for a moment, he forgot to breathe. in his mind, she was a force he could never hope to control, and for the first time in forever, he realized he didn’t want to.

“i want an apology,” she said finally, her voice calm but firm, as though the entire world bent to her will.

he didn’t even hesitate. “i’m sorry,” he said quickly, the words tumbling out before he could stop himself.

her brows lifted in amusement, and a surprised laugh slipped past her lips, soft and melodic. “wow,” she said, leaning forward slightly, a teasing glint in her eye. “that was... fast.”

“because i mean it,” he said, his voice steady now, though his heart raced. “you were right, y/n. about all of it. i’ve been selfish and short with you when you didn’t deserve it. this whole thing’s been frustrating, but that’s no excuse for how i’ve treated you.”

her lips parted slightly in surprise, and he noticed how her expression softened, just a fraction. “go on,” she said, though her teasing tone couldn’t quite hide the genuine curiosity beneath it.

trent took a step closer, his hands slipping into his pockets as if grounding himself. “i’ve been taking my frustration out on you because it’s easier than admitting this arrangement has gotten to me. but you don’t deserve that. if anything, you deserve better than... whatever this is.”

for a moment, she didn’t respond, just studied him with that same piercing gaze. then, slowly, she uncrossed her arms and leaned back, her expression unreadable.

“you’re lucky i’m giving you another chance,” she said, though her tone was lighter now, teasing.

“i’ll take it,” he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. “and i’ll do better. i promise.”

she tilted her head, a flicker of something warmer passing over her face. “you’re serious, huh?”

“dead serious,” he said without missing a beat. “whatever it takes to fix this.”

she gave him a long look before finally nodding, a smile playing on her lips. “alright then,” she said, standing up and brushing imaginary dust from her dress. “you can start by buying me a coffee.”

trent chuckled, his frustration melting into something softer, something lighter. “deal.”

“you’re lucky you’re pretty,” she muttered, when he returned with her coffee a small smile tugging at her lips.

trent let out a low laugh, the sound breaking the lingering tension. “that’s all i’ve got going for me, huh?”

“pretty much,” she teased, her tone lighter now. “but don’t push it. i’m still mad.”

he smirked, leaning back in his chair. “noted.”

it wasn’t a perfect resolution, but it was enough for now. as they sat there, the silence between them was no longer cold or uncomfortable—it was something softer, a tentative truce.

as they walked back toward the café’s entrance, side by side, he noticed the way she didn’t pull away when his shoulder brushed hers. it wasn’t perfect—not yet—but it was a start. and for the first time, trent felt like they might actually figure this thing out together.

next

© PDRIESTA 2024

[lowkeyrobin]

Could I request, what dating sparrow!ben hargreeves would be living a peaceful life possible after season 4 (let’s pretend like it never happened) preference or one shot (you decide)

Peaceful life- like the plans he said to Jennifer in the car, moving away, etcetera

P.s I loveeeeeee your tua and descendants writing keep up the amazing work 🫶🏻🫶🏻



aweee stop this is so cute 💔💔💔 ; also yes went for hc cause no way am I figuring out how to oneshot that shit ; also thank you 🫶🫶 I appreciate it lol ; also if there's supposed to be an anon emoji down there I can't see it 💀💀 it's just an [obj] box, prob cause I have an android and we don't have the same emojis as iphones n shit lmao ; thanks for requesting, hope you enjoy! ; ps idk why I couldn't find that scene so I just kinda made some shit up lmfao

SPARROW! BEN ; runaways

summary ; your perfect life after running away with Ben except it doesn't end the world

warnings ; language

disclaimers ; no jail time for Ben / no s4 at all ig, reader isn't a brellie but refers to them as siblings + as kind of like an add on to them like lila

word count ; 363

masterlist

you and ben, after falling in love during the s3 era, decided you should just run away together

he'd taken a fond liking of you considering you were both so oddly peaceful when it came to just the two of you

the wedding at the end of the world really solidified it

and then you made out!

but after resetting the timeline and losing your powers, there was nothing to really stick around for

considering you wiped out all the marigold and sloane had disappeared (considering she would've never been born or was erased somehow) and your siblings had all gone off to live their lives, it was time you did too

you only knew Ben for like two weeks before you actually fell for each other so learning about one another was really fun

you packed up your bags (or what remained of them) and headed to wherever the back roads could take you

in the car you learned about each other's music taste and your hobbies, and all the sights you wanted to see around the world

the road took you to south carolina

you stayed on the beach for a week and it was honestly really nice

thank god you were able to steal thousands from sparrow-reggies secret stash lol

there you discovered Ben's hatred for water...

but after a week or so you packed up again and headed west

you drove around the country for about three years just sightseeing and living the most you could considering the two of you never really saw anything outside of home

but after a while, you had to settle down somewhere and make a proper life for yourselves

you both craved to be normal people, to pay bills and taxes and hold down jobs, maybe even make a family, as fucked as it was

I mean, trillionaires son moves to the middle of nowhere to live like a normal person? kinda crazy

you built a house on some old farmland on the outskirts of a little town, surrounded by forest and acres of empty land

you call around the family every once in a while, wanting to know how they're doing and what they're up to

ben couldn't really care tho, he only rlly cares for you, the others weirded him out

you couldn't blame him tho since he barely knew them and they knew a different version of him

when you're on the phone, head tilted as both hands are occupied by biscuit mix that you were mixing up, he stands by you with a soft smile on his face, helping you morph them into balls and put them on the tray

think a 90s type of house, very brown, window seats, etc

you live such a sweet ass life man

you sit on the front porch swing and drink coffee while you watch the sunrise

and in winter you cuddle up by the fireplace and watch shitty hallmark movies

you even started a YouTube channel for shits and giggles where you watch awful movies on cable TV and commentate over them because it's funny

you have a calico cat named sorbet

you have a strawberry garden in the backyard that surrounds the porch

and you go out to eat every friday

so many hugs from behind from the other when one is cooking

sweet kisses on the temple as well

so cavity causing sweet

[s4no]

+ feat: ken ryuuguji x fem!reader

+ cw: sex work (draken is an escort), virginity loss, oral (r), ptv, size difference

+ summary: after years of failed attempts at losing your virginity, you decide to take matters into your own hands and buy a night with the most expensive male escort tokyo has to offer. (5.4k words)

+ a/n: i decided to rewrite one of my old fics so if you recognize the title and/or plot, it's from my archived account; written in the adult timeline

Your nerves are in shambles as you approach the unfamiliar building. Your legs feel weak and your fingers clutch your wallet tightly, as if you suspect someone may try to mug you and steal it. For all that you know, it's possible. You’ve never been in this part of town before and you're grateful you haven't run into anybody you know. You’d definitely get questioned if someone saw you walking down the main street of Tokyo's Red Light District. Or more specifically, into a brothel.

It isn’t like you're out here on a whim. You’d thought about this for a long time, pondered over it many nights after hours of tossing and turning, and after five very long— and equally as frustrating years, you’d made your decision. You wanted to lose your virginity and you’d use all the resources at your disposal.

You didn’t have much luck out on the dating scene, which mainly consisted of Tinder and a couple of the local bars out in Roppongi. You’d tried it all: blind dates, speed dates, double dates. None of them ever resulted in a relationship— or even a one night stand— so you’d been forced back to square one each time. After five years of trying and failing, you’d given up on finding love for the time being.

But… not pleasure.

That’s how you find yourself walking into the luxurious lobby of the most popular brothel in the city. The smell of jasmine invades your nose and the sound of smooth jazz drifts into your ears, immediately creating a sensuous atmosphere that leaves you gawking. Red velvet couches line the walls, some accompanied by golden side tables where clients can sit their drinks while they wait to be called back.

At the front of the room sits a large mahogany desk with a woman seated behind it, tapping away at a computer. Swallowing, you timidly approach the front desk and lean in close, your voice barely above a whisper. “Hello, I’d like to… Um, book a room.”

The woman doesn’t even bother sparing you a glance, her fingers still flying across the keyboard. “Male or female bodied?”

“Male, please. I’d like… the male with the best rating, if possible.”

Your cheeks flush when the woman stops typing, her eyes glancing you over before responding. “I’m sure you would,” condescension colors her tone, “but I’m afraid there are premium rates for our top-tier employees.” Ones that are out of your price range, she suspects.

“I’m prepared to pay as much as it takes.” Unzipping your wallet, you spread it open to reveal a thick stack of crisp ten thousand yen banknotes. You’ve been saving up for this since Christmas, working a full-time job along with attending classes at the university nearby. It’d been stressful and you'd worked yourself ragged, pinching pennies for the last few months, but tonight is going to make it all worth it.

Her eyes flicker between you and your stuffed wallet for a moment before she crosses her arms and leans back in her chair. “I see. Well, I’ll have to check if he’s available. How long did you want to book him for?”

“…Three hours.”

Her eyebrows raise at that but she otherwise remains professional, nodding and picking up the phone on her desk. She quickly dials a number, sighing as she waits for someone to answer. “Hello? Yes, I was wondering if you’d like to accept a three-hour appointment.” She pauses for a second. “Yes, she’s here in the lobby right now and prepared to pay the fees upfront.” Another pause. “Okay. Thank you, Draken. Bye.”

Putting the phone down, she turns back to you. “He should be down shortly to take you back. That’ll be ¥120,000.”

— ღ —

After handing over the wad of cash, you take a seat on one of the velvet couches and run a hand through your hair. The room feels significantly warmer than it had when you first walked in and you realize it's because your heart is racing. It's happening. This is actually happening.

You'd almost chickened out this afternoon— considered using the money to take a nice little trip to Okinawa. You could swim with the fish and read out on the beach, eat some good seafood, blow off some steam. You'd definitely enjoy yourself but what happened once you came back? You'd find yourself back at square one, a hundred thousand yen poorer and filled with regret and immense sexual frustration.

There had been a couple of times you'd come close to achieving your goal. You'd gone to a frat party a few weeks ago, drank and danced your heart out. Even wore a pair of jean shorts that barely managed to cover your ass. When you ended up getting hot and heavy with one of the brothers, he took you back to his room only for you to walk in on his roommate having a threesome with two very talented blondes.

In March, when you first created a Tinder profile, you'd matched with a cute grad student who wanted to take you out to dinner. He drove you to a hotpot restaurant and halfway through the date, you two retreated to the bathroom to have a quickie. Your panties were around your ankles when you realized you didn't want your first time to be in a restroom stall beside a grimy toilet. You didn't want it to be a five-minute escapade that would leave you disappointed and unfulfilled. It's obvious to say the drive home had been awkward.

You're so deep in thought that you don't notice when a man walks out from behind the beaded curtain and approaches the front desk. You don't notice him at all— not until he's standing in front of you with a small smile playing on his lips. Onyx eyes roll over you slowly, long hair of the same color tied back in a braid. There's a black dragon tattooed across the left side of his head, and you have the oddest urge to reach out and trace your fingers atop it.

“You must be my client for tonight.” His voice is deep and smooth like molasses and a trill runs down your spine as he wets his lips, “I’m Draken.”

“Hi… I’m (y/n).” You offer, extending your hand out to which he lifts a brow.

He repeats your name back to you, drawing it out like he savors the taste of it on his tongue, and then takes your hand in his. Instead of shaking it, he interlaces his fingers through yours and gives it a soft squeeze. “C’mon princess, ’m on the top floor.”

Nodding weakly, you’re practically in a daze as he leads you back through the curtain of sparkling beads and into an elevator that’s every bit as fancy as the room you were just in. He fishes out a silver key from his pocket before turning it into the lock beside the button labeled seven, and up you go.

The enclosed area only emphasizes how large he is compared to you, how much space he takes up. He’s well above six feet with broad shoulders and muscles that bulge inside the sleeves of his silk button-down. You can feel him watching you as you ascend but you don’t have the courage to meet his gaze. Tension bleeds into the air, and coupled with the stark silence, it’s nearly suffocating. You have to make a conscious effort to take deep breaths as you will your heart to calm down.

When the dinging of the elevator sounds like church bells, you aren’t surprised. You’re pretty sure heaven awaits you on the other side of these doors.

You find that heaven looks a lot like a bachelor’s pad. Filled with dark wood and sleek furniture, it’s a mini-paradise; complete with a fully stocked bar, a king-sized bed, and a balcony leading out to a hot tub. Music plays softly from the surround sound system and you breathe in the faint aroma of juniper and tobacco as you walk inside.

“I hope R&B is alright.” He squeezes your hand once more before letting go of it, kicking off his slippers and making his way over to the bar. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“A glass of water?”

His brow lifts again but he nods, “Sure.”

“Thank you.” You look around while he pours out your drinks, taking in the scenic view of the city below. “You have a very nice place.”

“You don’t have to do that, you know.” When you turn around, he’s standing behind you, holding out a glass of water with a shot of sake in his other hand. “Be so formal.”

“Ah, I’m sorry.” You quickly accept the drink, muttering out a quiet apology. You’d done so much in preparation for this moment, but not once had you ever thought about how awkward it would be in the beginning. You hadn’t thought to look into the… ‘etiquette’ of brothels. You settle on giving him an honest answer. “I’m not entirely sure how to act.”

There’s a knowing smile on his face as he reaches out and tilts your chin up. His thumb glides lightly across your cheek, the calloused fingertip burning where it touches your skin. “Just relax. I promise you, you’re in good hands. I’m gonna take good care of you tonight.”

You know the gesture is meant to help reassure you and lessen your nerves, but all it succeeds in doing is sending your pulse skyrocketing. Apprehension bubbles low in your stomach and your voice wobbles when you respond. “O-Okay..”

“Let me ask you a question.” His thumb moves from your cheek to your mouth, feather-light as it ghosts over the curve of your lips. “You haven’t done this before, have you, sweetheart?”

Your cheeks flare at his question, eyes widening in shock. Is it that obvious? “No, I haven’t.” You admit reluctantly, “I just— Well, I’m tired of waiting. I know the first time is supposed to be special, but… this is special in a way, right?” You watch as the comforting smile falls right off his face. His eyebrows furrow and you mimic the action, worrying what you’d said to elicit this type of reaction. “What? What’s wrong?”

He blinks at you as he processes the information and you can practically see the cogs turning in his head. “First time?” His expression turns serious, his hand dropping from your cheek. “I was talkin’ about coming to a brothel, not having sex.” He shakes his head, “Look, I’ll take you back downstairs. Sana will get you a full refund—”

“No!” You cringe when you blurt it out, interrupting him. “Please, you don’t understand. I want to do this. I’m sure of it.”

“It’s not a matter of if you’re sure or not.” His voice is stern now, taking on an edge that slices right through your pounding heart. “It’s a personal preference. I don’t sleep with virgins, not at work.”

“I— I can pay you more money, however much you want!” You know you sound desperate but that’s because you are. You’ve worked your ass off to get here, to have this experience, and now you’re grasping for straws as you feel it slipping through your fingers. “You don’t even have to accommodate me, just do your thing and—”

It’s his turn to interrupt you. “Do you have any idea what you’re saying?” You can hear the anger in his voice, it’s almost palpable. “You can’t just go around tellin’ people they can have their way with you. It’s your first time. You should be accommodated. Now, follow me. I’m walking you back down to the lobby.”

You don’t move when he walks back toward the elevator, keeping your feet planted on the hardwood floor. “If I should be catered to, then why don’t you do it yourself? Because if you take me back down to the lobby, I won’t be getting a refund. I’ll just ask for someone different.”

A muscle in his jaw feathers as it clenches, his eyes narrowing down at you as if that will help him discern whether you’re bluffing or not. But as you hold his gaze, unwavering and earnest, he realizes you’re telling the truth. Heaving a sigh, he brings a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. He should be calling security right now, have you escorted out of the building. He shouldn’t be entertaining the thought of conceding to your demands.

Yet, there’s something in your eyes as you stare up at him— a certain innocence that has him willing to break his rules. Just once. He’d indulge you this once, if only because he doesn’t trust anybody else here to treat you right. “…Fine, but we’re doing this my way.”

You exhale a breath you hadn’t known you’d been holding. “Thank you, Draken. It… that means a lot to me.”

“I know it does.” Normally, he isn’t so forgiving toward people who threaten him but he can recognize the desperation in your voice. And desperation can lead to dangerous things. Other men would take advantage of that, and for some reason, he hates the thought of some old sleazebag taking your first time. At least with him, he’d make sure you’re satisfied. “Here, let’s sit down.”

You take a seat on the edge of the bed, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth. “Should we… take off our clothes?”

Your heart flutters when a chuckle rumbles up from his chest. You’re as awkward as you are stubborn and he finds it strangely endearing. “No, not yet. We’re gonna take it nice and slow, m’kay?” He scoots closer, turning to face you. “But I am going to kiss you.” He raises a hand to your cheek, his thumb resuming its stroking. “If you want me to stop, all you have to do is say so.”

He waits until you nod before beginning to lean in, slowly so you still have every chance to change your mind. But when his lips press against yours, claiming them with a tender kiss, you know there’s no going back.

His lips are soft and warm as they move against yours, and you kiss him back— albeit clumsily because of how nervous you are. He doesn’t seem to mind though, more than willing to take the lead and pick the pace. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, silently asking for permission to deepen the exchange, and you allow it, humming contently as the taste of spearmint and tobacco fills your mouth.

His hand moves to grip your jaw as the other trails up and down your side, and despite the shivers that ensue, it helps ground you in the moment, brings you back down to earth just in time for him to draw away. You’re left breathless, sucking in deep gulps of air to clear the dizziness that’s muddled your mind.

“You still want to do this?” Warm breath fans across your face, obsidian eyes searching yours for any sign of uncertainty. He doesn’t find any.

“Yes, please,” you whisper, “I meant it when I said I want to do this.”

That’s all the consent he needs before he captures your lips again, this time with an intensity that makes your head spin. His hands move to unbutton your blouse, slowly working their way down to the bottom and slipping it off your shoulders. He doesn’t break the kiss as he starts palming your breasts, massaging them over your bra, and you can’t help the whimper that rises up from your throat in response. His tongue continues to explore your mouth, tangling with yours until your core is throbbing with need.

“Gonna be a good girl f’me?” He murmurs against your lips, palms splayed across your chest. One of them snakes behind you and nimbly unclasps your bra, letting it fall forward just enough to give him a peek at what lies underneath. “Lay back.”

Your body responds naturally, following his order without hesitation. You pull away and lean back until you’re pressed against the mattress with him looming over you, his eyes drinking you in as he slips the garment off your shoulders. “Fuck…” He mutters, “Look at you.”

Your nipples pebble beneath his gaze, pretty and pert and begging to be played with. He licks his licks lustfully, rough hands coming down to cup and squeeze them. Your head turns to the side when he starts to pinch the peaks, rubbing them between his fingers and forcing another whimper to escape.

He maintains eye contact as he lowers down, plush lips wrapping around one only to flick his tongue over the bud. “Draken…”

“There you go,” he breathes out, pulling back to admire the view. “Just relax, baby.”

Unbuttoning his shirt, he shrugs it off, discarding it with the rest of your clothes before turning his attention back to you. “Don’t be afraid to touch me.” He leans forward and grabs your hands, moving to press them against his chest. You can feel his heartbeat if you concentrate, the rhythmic thumping beneath your palm. It’s a sharp contrast to yours which beats wildly against your ribcage, threatening to burst out of your chest.

With the sight before you, who can blame you?

His body is built and toned, corded muscles rippling across his torso and leading down to a delicious set of prominent v-lines. Your mouth waters as they flex and you drag your hands down to feel the hard ridges of his abdomen, a trail of dark hair descending down from his navel and disappearing into his jeans. You’re all but mesmerized.

“Like what you see?” He teases, his head dipping down to the curve of your neck. Straight white teeth graze across the tender flesh before suckling on your pulse point. All you can do is nod, your breathing shallow and uneven as his fingers continue tweaking your hardened nipples.

He knows the pace he’s setting is slow— deliberate— but he wants you more aroused than you’ve ever been, dripping wet for him when he finally takes you.

With soft pants falling from your lips, one of his hands slides down to your waist, his index finger dipping into the hem of your skirt. He could very well just pull it up, sneak his hand underneath it, but he resists the temptation, determined to make you squirm in anticipation.

And you do, every purposeful touch kindling the fire within you until it’s a blazing inferno. Your blood boils in your veins, your skin beautifully flushed. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say you’re in danger of overheating.

“Let’s get this off, yeah?” He mutters, letting the waistband of your skirt snap back against your skin. Your hips eagerly buck at the small sting, making it easy for him to tug it off and toss it onto the floor, and then he spreads your thighs apart to reveal a large damp spot in the middle of your panties. “Shit, so fuckin’ wet…” He curses, his eyes getting impossibly darker.

You nearly clamp your legs together as his eyes rove over you but the adoration in his expression bolsters you, gives you the confidence you need so badly. You stay still and let him look, trying to memorize the image of him between your thighs as he does.

Time seems to slow down. Seconds tick by and with each one that passes, you grow more and more uncomfortable. Your pussy aches, the desire he’s so carefully cultivated inside you becoming almost unbearable. But he either doesn’t notice the need swimming in your eyes, or he doesn’t care. He remains hovering over you, gaze zeroed in on your clothed cunt.

“Touch me,” the plea escapes you before you can stop it, and the corners of his lips tilt up into a small smirk. “Please.”

He hums as if he has to think about it. You’re about to start begging when his fingers press against you, applying enough pressure to make you mewl. “Don’t get greedy, princess.” He chastises gruffly, “You’ll take what I give you, remember?”

You nod obediently so he rewards you, circling your panty-clad clit until your hips are shifting back and forth. Moans fall freely from your lips but it still isn’t enough. You need more.

“Please,” you whine, eyebrows cinching together as you gaze up at him. “Draken, please…”

He hums again and hooks his fingers into the sides of your panties before dragging them down to your ankles. “Only ‘cause you asked so nicely.” Completely bared to him, apprehension saturates the air, your stomach doing backflips as he leans down and blows out a puff of air against your folds. When you clench at the sensation, a growl sounds. “Such a pretty little pussy.”

The pink flesh glistens in the dim lighting of the room, every inch soaked with arousal that drips down the inside of your thighs and onto the sheets beneath you. If you weren’t a virgin, he doesn’t think he’d even need to prep you.

Calloused fingers rub between your puffy folds, collecting your slick until his fingers are covered, and then one of his digits prods at your entrance, easing inside of you. Your back arches off the bed as he curves it in a come hither motion, your hands flying out to grip his shoulders. “Fuck..!”

You should be embarrassed at the deep laughter that leaves him but you can only focus on the way he’s knuckle deep inside of you, adding a second finger and beginning to thrust them both in and out. “Your reactions are s’cute. What if I were to just…” He trails off as he lowers down until he’s face-to-face with your pussy, and your hands strike out to grab his cheeks so you can hold him back.

“W-Wait..” You stammer before swallowing thickly, “It’s okay, you don’t have to—”

“Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“No, no… I just… No one’s ever…” Your blush spreads to the tips of your ears.

He cocks a brow up at you. “No one’s ever eaten you out?” But he already knows the answer. Your mortified expression is as good as any verbal indication. Shock flickers across his face, but he takes the new piece of information in stride, turning his head to the side and pressing a kiss against the inside of your thigh. “Lemme taste you, baby. You don’t need to be shy.”

Your insecurities melt away under his encouragement but when you merely nod, he nips at your skin. “No, use your words.”

“O-Okay.” You breathe out shakily, “Go ahead.”

The words have barely left your mouth when you feel his lips wrap around your clit, his tongue expertly swirling around the sensitive bud and tearing a gasp from your throat. His fingers resume their curling motions, and suddenly a familiar sensation begins building in your stomach. It reminds you of all the times you’ve touched yourself, all of the times you’ve worked yourself into a frenzy chasing your orgasm. You’d rut against your pillow only for your legs to start trembling, too weak to climb the last few inches to the peak.

Admittedly, your legs do start to shake, your body tense and on the verge of locking up. It’s like you’ve conditioned it to expect the worst, that you’ll get close enough to taste the high and then be denied like all of the other times you’ve attempted to pleasure yourself.

“Draken,” you moan, the sound so depraved you don’t recognize your own voice, “Don’t stop— p-please, don’t stop..!”

A groan erupts from his chest as your walls tighten around his fingers and the vibrations of it cause another wave of heat to wash over you, threatening to pull you out to sea and drown you in its depths. You’re so close, closer than you’ve ever been before.

It’s when his mouth suctions around your clit that you’re flung off the precipice. Pleasure blooms out from between your thighs, shooting through your limbs and out to the tips of your fingers. Your eyes squeeze shut as it consumes you, bleeds into all your senses until you’re writhing around in the sheets, hands blindly grasping for something— anything— to ground you.

Even then, he doesn’t stop. He keeps sucking, keeps licking, long fingers thrusting inside of you to prolong the orgasm for as long as possible. “Good girl.” He praises, drawing away when you finally come to. You’re panting from the physical exertion, pupils blown with desire as you slowly lift your head to look down at him. His lips, cheeks, and chin are shiny with your slick, and you’d probably be embarrassed if you didn’t feel so lightheaded.

“Thank you… that was amazing..” And even that was a gross understatement.

Rising up from between your legs, there’s a smug expression on his face. “Save the thank-you’s for later, princess. We’re not done yet.” As if to emphasize his point, his hands drop down to start unbuckling his belt, your eyes following suit and widening into saucers when you see the bulge in the front of his pants.

“Oh my god.”

It’s… he’s huge.

You watch with bated breath as he unzips his pants and lets them drop around his ankles, your eyes boring holes into him when he pulls down his boxers and reveals both the prettiest and thickest cock you’ve ever seen. The shaft is long and curved, the tip flushed and leaking. A large vein runs down the entirety of the length and you swear if you look hard enough, you can see it pulsing.

He grips the base of it, stroking it a couple of times before prowling forward. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” A grin tugs at the corners of his lips. “Worried ‘s not gonna fit?”

“…Yes.” You squeak.

He chuckles at your candor, opening up a drawer on the bedside table and fishing out a small plastic square— a condom, you realize. It only takes him a moment to tear it open and slip it on, the action effortless from years of practice. “Don’t be scared. I told you I’d take care of you, didn’t I? I’m a man of my word if nothing else.”

Crawling onto the bed, he captures your lips in a kiss that can only be described as comforting. It’s slow and gentle, even when his tongue dips into your mouth, and his hands come up to cup your cheeks, holding you in such a way that you can’t help but feel cherished.

“I’m gonna start now,” he murmurs against your lips, “Remember, if you want me to stop, just say the word.” You nod in acknowledgment, and with that, he reaches down and lines himself up with your entrance, the tip of his cock prodding at your center. “Squeeze me as tightly as you need.”

Your hands shoot out to grip his shoulders right as he starts to push inside of you and your nails bite into his skin at the stretch, leaving crescent indents behind. A strangled noise bubbles up from your throat when pain takes hold of you, burning bright like the sun in the middle of summer.

“I know,” he rasps, his lips ghosting over the edge of your jaw, “I know it hurts. But it’ll feel better soon, I promise.” Tears prick at your eyes as he pushes deeper inside you, but soon his fingers are circling over your clit, blending the pleasure and pain until one is indiscernible from the other. “Just breathe, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

His movements are so controlled, it’s impressive— even as the slew of foreign sensations threatens to overwhelm you, you’re able to recognize that much. His brows are furrowed in concentration, his breaths coming out in hot puffs that skate across your heated skin. And ever so slowly, he works you open, sinking into you inch by inch. By the time he’s bottomed out, a thin sheen of sweat covers his forehead, his voice strained when he says, “You did so well, baby, ‘m so fuckin’ proud of you.”

You only whimper in response, turning your head to the side so your cheek is pressed against the pillow. You feel so full, inhumanely full. So much so that you’re genuinely surprised you haven’t been split in half because, for all intents and purposes, that’s what it’d felt like. Your only saving grace is the way he hasn’t stopped rubbing your clit, hasn’t stopped praising you for taking him so well.

It’s a testament to his self-restraint the way he manages to remain still, buried deep inside you, while he patiently waits for your walls to adjust to his size. If he were a lesser man, he’d push aside your comfort, neglect your needs and pound into you to relieve his aching cock. But he waits, waits until your pained whimpers morph into soft moans, until you start to squirm beneath him as your body tries to create the friction it needs so badly.

“Move,” you beg, your hands sliding down from his shoulder to grab onto his hips, attempting to move them yourself. “Please… need you to move..”

A pair of large hands tug yours away from his waist before they pin them down on either side of your head. There’s no real force behind the maneuver but you don’t fight him off as he threads your fingers between his, just like he did earlier this evening. “Look at me, (y/n). I want you to look at me while I fuck you.”

Tentatively, you turn your head so you’re staring up at him. You’re not sure what he sees but approval shines in his eyes and a sincere smile graces his lips. “Good girl.”

With your eyes glued on his, he finally starts to move, drawing his hips back and pushing into you in small, shallow thrusts. Your lips part into a gasp, your breath hitching every time he’s fully hilted inside of you. Tears line your lashes but this time, they aren’t from pain. They’re from pure, unadulterated pleasure— the all-encompassing kind that leaves you in tatters on the floor.

“Feels s’good.. So fuckin’ tight.” He groans, his pace speeding up as more moans pour from your lips. The sound of skin slapping skin ensues and you cry out when he shifts his angle, the tip of his cock hitting a spot that makes your eyes roll.

Your pleasure heightens and you think that this must be euphoria as your tears overflow, spilling down your cheeks and dropping onto the pillow beneath your head. Yet, you don’t look away from him. You don’t dare shy away from his gaze, not even when the coil inside you begins winding tight, warning you of your impending orgasm.

He squeezes your hands as your body goes taut. You’re panting now— sucking in breath after breath as your bodies collide— but you can’t seem to get enough air. Up you climb, higher and higher until you begin to tremble beneath him, your hands holding onto his like they’re a lifeline.

“You gonna cum, baby?” He asks through gritted teeth, “Gonna cream on my cock?” He curses when you nod, dropping his forehead down so it rests against yours. “Well, go on then, princess. Make a fuckin’ mess.”

As if on command, the cord inside you abruptly snaps. A violent shudder wracks through your body, bliss clouding every single one of your five senses. It’s enough to wrench a deafening sob out of you, your back arching up off the bed so your chest is pressed firmly against his. He continues to drive into you as your walls pulsate around him and a growl reverberates up from his throat at the same time you feel his length twitch inside of you.

He stops after a few more thrusts, slowly pulling out of you and turning over to lie on his back. You whine quietly at the loss, but you’re too busy trying to catch your breath to complain.

“Shit…” He says, his head turning to look at you after a couple of minutes of silence, “How do you feel?”

Somehow, you summon up enough energy to smile through the exhaustion that’s seeped into your bones. “Definitely not like a virgin.”

He lets out a laugh at that, flashing you a brilliant white smile that makes his eyes crinkle at the sides. “Well, we’ve still got two hours left, sweetheart. Don’t go tappin’ out on me yet.”

[joonipertree]

How Mikey Loves and Proposes

Okay so some of my headcanons for him align with my beliefs however I am very particular about characterisation so I'm gonna keep it balanced.

Genuinely i think Mikey does not need the paperwork, the title or official testimonies to consider himself your husband. Once he has sort of outgrown 'boyfriend', like maybe he's in his mid to late 20s, he wants a new title because boyfriend was very highschool.

Imagine every single thing a couple could be, it has been done. Shared apartments, pets, joint bank accounts. I genuinely think because of how devoted Mikey is with his people, he would be just as devoted to his partner.

He is a people person, he finds his people and he keeps them close to his chest no matter what happens. He has forgiven his people for the unforgiveable. Very very ride or die type of person. So out of everyone, he is devoted and loyal.

I will say, in cases of fucked up timelines...chances are he would either keep you at an arm's length, push you away and disappear or just be cold. He does this because he considers himself a danger. I don't care if he has hurt his friends, I dont care about dark impulses, that man would never lay a hand on you. Dark impulses are strong, his love for you is stronger.

If he does run away, he will never look at another person ever again. Loyal as fuck.

But we are talking about final timeline so LETS GO.

At some point, he just wants matching wedding rings, he just wants people to look at you and then look at your left ring finger and be like 'oh fuck, they're taken'. You're already his, ya'll probably have matching bracelets or necklaces that he bought with his very first paycheck. But he really craves that moment where you call him 'husband'.

He probably felt connected to you in an everlasting sense from the moment ya'll started dating. This commitment was from the soul from the get go.

So why does it take like 6 to 7 years into the relationship to get married? Firstly I just have a general rule that marriage should come after 5 years minimum because it's paperwork and a big process. You can disagree and just add in your own minimum but again...adding that no matter what, ya'll live together, wake up every morning together, build a future together. At some point, you guys are too busy getting jobs, being adults and hanging out with friends to be like 'ooooo marriage'.

How does Mikey propose?

i think it was spur of the moment, maybe it hit him that OH ya'll arent married and suddenly he has the urge to say it.

And one night, it's 2am and you wanna go on a night ride and he never says no to you so he wraps you in one of his jackets and both of you head on a ride.

And it's peaceful and maybe Mikey is having a moment where he's like 'I have died, been reborn and saved multiple times for this moment. I am meant to be alive so I could be with my person. I'm very happy I am alive.'

And he's blinking back tears, stopping close to a convenience store..using snacks as an excuse to stop.

And while he's walking through the place, grabbing his usuals and your favourites...maybe it's the fluorescent lighting or the way you're picking out the drinks, maybe it's because how you look in his clothes or because it's late and you're here with him getting snacks, maybe he is sleepy and warm that he says:

"I wanna be your husband."

And the place is too quiet to not hear it, the cashier is like 'what the fuck dude, you're gonna get smacked for proposing like that' but you look at him and his teary eyes and lovesick smile and you're just speechless. But you move forward to hold him, he wraps his arms around you and presses you close to him. It's warm and engulfing.

And maybe you give an excited 'yes' or maybe you make a joke about where your ring is or maybe it's a soft whisper of an answer...in any case....the answer had been given way before he had even asked it.

[cosmicpearlz]

yours for the time being |4|

summary: what happens when your academic rival of years proposes an offer of fake dating? pure chaos.

pairing: gryffindor!jude bellingham x slytherin!reader

a/n: only one more chapter after this one! i wanted to stretch it out, just so everything made sense timeline wise. anyways, enjoy <3

everyone knew. it seemed like the word traveled fast around the school halls. jude couldn't take the staring or the countless whispers among the students anymore. y/n was nowhere to be seen, missing in action. oh, how the gryffindor boy wished to catch another glance at her. to have her next to him, giggling as he made the worse jokes known to man. just so that she'll smile, and it worked every time. to feel her hand in his once more.

"jude, you've been quiet lately," harry turns towards him. "anything you wanna share with the group?"

"no."

"mate, you've completely shut down. does it have something to do with y/n?" ron questions. jude's face drops and his brows furrowed. as if y/n leaving him wasn't enough, his friends had to bring up her name. not saying 'the snake' like they usually did but saying her name.

"no."

"i think what harry and ron are trying say is, we're here for you whenever you're ready to talk."

"she broke up with me, alright! she's clearly stated that she wants nothing to do with me and i just have to accept that."

"oh jude, i'm sure she didn't mean-" jude shakes his head, cutting hermione's sentence off.

"you weren't there. just leave it alone and leave me alone while you're at it."

jude stands from his seat and leaves the library abruptly. the more he thought about the situation, the angrier he got. angry that y/n gave up before even exploring what could've been. angry that it seemed so easy for the girl to just leave. his heavy footsteps ringing throughout the castle halls.

"jude!" lavender yelled out. the boy halts his movements and quietly curses to himself before turning around to face her. it's been a while since the gryffindor girl bothered him.

"what do you want?"

"y'know, since you and y/n broke up. i was wondering if you wanted to go out," lavender steps closer, rubbing her hand on his arm. jude felt disgusted. what didn't she understand by no?

"are you seriously asking me that?"

"well yeah. i just thought that i could help you get over the breakup."

"please leave me alone. i'm not interested and i'm pretty sure y/n told you that!"

before jude could get another word out, he glances over lavender's shoulder and sees y/n. he hasn't seen her in days and the only thing he could think of was how beautiful she looked. her eyes weren't as bright as they normally were. now replaced with a dull sunken look and the puffiness that followed.

as much as jude wanted to reach out, he couldn't bring himself to. he couldn't force the girl to love him or even reciprocate those feelings that he held for her.

"just forget it," jude mumbles, turning around and walking in the direction he was originally heading in once more.

-

you were dying. certainly, sure of it. you couldn't go to your classes, preferring to do as much work as you could from your dorm room. not being able to stomach seeing his face around the campus. the face of the person whose heart you broke. you knew you had feelings for the boy, but you couldn't act on them. at least that's what you kept telling yourself.

the endless tears that pansy, theo and blaise had to dry. they've never seen you so sad. it was weird for them. not sure on how to cheer you up. truth was, there wasn't anything they could do to cheer you up.

"come with me to the kitchens. we need to sneak things for the party on saturday," pansy says with a smile.

"do i have to?"

"yes. no questions about it." you groaned but got up anyways just to please your friend. you watched as she jumps while clapping. pulling your hand and dragged you straight to the destination.

the walk through the halls was quiet. you kept your hand laced with pansy's. not minding the friendly gesture, although it reminded you of a certain gryffindor boy.

"is that jude? with lavender?" pansy whispered. you stopped dead in your tracks. head whipping around to see if your friend was lying or not. of course, she wasn't. you watched as lavender rubbed his arm, almost smiling to yourself seeing him visibly disgusted by her.

"we should go before we won't have a chance to get the supplies."

"you don't wanna speak to him?"

"i'm sure he doesn't want to speak to me. i broke it off with him."

"you could tell him that you didn't mean it. i mean, look at you! you're miserable because he's not in your life anymore. you clearly like him a lot."

"pansy let it go," you whispered softly, turning around and facing the opposite direction. you tugged the girls' hand to follow you.

-

while each friend group had no idea on how to individually cheer the two up, it didn't stop them from continuously brainstorming ideas. which eventually lead the slytherins to face the fellow gryffindors tuesday afternoon.

"we need to talk," blaise speaking for the group and facing the three gryffindors. harry and ron's eyebrows raised in question. hermione sat there, as if she already knew what they were going to say.

"we need to get jude and y/n to talk."

"how did she know what we were going to talk about?" draco mumbled to pansy.

"because she's hermione. mione knows everything pretty much," pansy throws a playfully wink towards the girl.

"well, have a seat i guess," harry gestured to the empty seats. theo, pansy, blaise, and draco gladly sit down.

"let's get right into it. y/n has been miserable since they broke up. crying her eyes out almost every day and-"

"she's the one who called things off!" ron cuts theo off. theo huffs and rolls his eyes.

"i know that you dimwit. if you let me finish, i was gonna say that she clearly really cares about him. whatever happened between them, we need to undo it."

"but how?" harry asked.

"we're having a slytherin party on saturday. you guys are welcomed to come but bring jude," blaise began to explain the plan.

"then what? are we going to lock them in a room?" hermione chuckles, looking around the table. her chuckles fall mute due to the silence. "wait, are you joking?"

"no. it's the only way they're gonna talk," said pansy.

"no way that's actually gonna work," ron shakes his head at the thought of it.

"it doesn't hurt to try. the party starts at 9, don't be late," theo ends the conversation there. nodding his head at the three gryffindors, he stands up along with pansy, blaise and draco.

the group of them head out, leaving the three to themselves. the silence being loud as they sat thinking about how to get jude to the party. the boy barely wanted to talk about y/n and going to her common room for a party? it might take some heavy convincing.

[callixpene]

L&DS Future Lifetime Series - PART 2: SECOND CONVERGENCE

Note: Starting from Part 2, some or all of the Love Interest's perspectives will be meshed together.

MASTERLIST for Part 1 is here(In case you haven't read it): ALL LIs - PART 1: WE MEET AGAIN

The previous fic to this one is here: XAVIER & SYLUS POV - PART 2: FIRST CONVERGENCE

The next fic to this one is here: XAVIER & SYLUS POV - PART 2: THIRD CONVERGENCE

RAFAYEL, ZAYNE & CALEB POV - PART 2: SECOND CONVERGENCE

Rafayel X OC. Zayne X OC. Caleb X OC

Set in Future Timeline. All Love Interests have no memories of their past lives. All of the MCs(5 Sisters) all have memories of their past lives. Very persistent LIs. Avoidant MCs. Love at first sight. Soulmates.

Genre: Fluff. Some Angst

Caleb was determined.

In fact, this was the most determined he'd been in his entire life, he thought as he walked into Nexus' main building.

He had officially resigned from the Deepspace Aviation Administration.

Everyone at DAA was shocked. But when Caleb told all of them the excuse he made up: That he wanted to build a career in Aerospace Engineering,(which he double-majored with Aviation back at Aerospace Academy) since he felt like he was getting stagnant, with the DAA not having much going on a lot of the time.

Everyone totally bought his excuse, to Caleb's amusement, and his resignation was promptly approved.

Then, he immediately submitted another application to Nexus. This time, for the position of Aerospace Engineer.

Now, he was scheduled to be interviewed by none other than Steven Kingsley himself, who was going to assess if he was fit for the role.

He was already Nexus' private pilot, but since the family members seldomly travel, he felt as if the role wasn't crucial enough for Mr. Kingsley to be impressed with him.

If he were to be accepted as an Aerospace Engineer, and helped Nexus achieve greater heights in the field of aircraft and spacecraft technology, then Steven Kingsley would definitely have to acknowledge him.

Then, when he finally achieves that, he could be with Lilian. And Mr. Kingsley would have no objections.

He approached the receptionist.

"Hello there." Caleb smiled at her. "I'm Caleb. I have an interview with Mr. Kingsley scheduled today."

The receptionist faced him. "Yes Mr. Caleb, however...." She paused. "Mr. Kingsley is in a meeting right now with two extremely important guests. I'm afraid we're going to have to reschedule your interview."

Caleb's face fell.

No. This can't be. He wanted to secure the position. Now.

"Maybe the meeting's almost over? I can wait, it's no problem."

"I'm sorry Sir. They've only just started. Oh, but don't worry! We'll send you an email for the new schedule."

Realizing there wasn't anything he could do, Caleb's shoulders slumped.

"Okay. I understand. Thank you."

He was more than a little upset.

Mr. Kingsley was a really, really busy man.

He thought he lucked out when he immediately got an interview with him scheduled.

When was he going to be available again?

He sat at the receiving area. Contemplating.

OK. Plan B.

He was going to see Lilian, then befriend her. That way, they could be together when they hung out, and surely no one would question that, right?

"Caleb?"

Wait. That voice.

Caleb swiftly lifted his head to confirm if it was indeed who he thought it was.

"Zayne?!" Caleb exclaimed. "Hi bro! I haven't seen you in a long time."

Zayne just smiled slightly in response.

Zayne was Caleb's friend back in high school.

Caleb was the sporty and loud kid back then and Zayne was the quiet, calm kid.

Both of them were at the top of their classes.

"Hi Caleb. I didn't expect to see you here. What are you doing here at Nexus?"

"I'm the Kingsley family's private pilot. What about you?"

Then, Caleb noticed Zayne was holding a bouquet of jasmines. "What's with the flowers?"

Zayne looked to the side. His face was flushed.

Caleb immediately clocked in what was going on.

"Oh....I see! You're dating someone here aren't you?" Caleb chuckled. "Back then, you didn't even speak with any of the girls at school. It's good to see you got yourself a girlfriend now."

"She's not my girlfriend....yet." Zayne replied.

"Oh. So you're still courting her? Well you're in luck, today! I happen to be free for the rest of the day, and if you need any help chasing after this girl, I've got your back." Caleb paused, then asked. "So, who is the lucky girl, anyway?"

"She's a bit hard to reach, but I'm going to do my best to be with her." Zayne said, earnestly. "She's Steven Kingsley's daughter."

Caleb's cheerful expression dissolved in an instant.

His entire body tensed.

Zayne was here, for Mr. Kingsley's daughter?

Lilian...

Then, without thinking, he grabbed Zayne by the collar, causing him to drop the bouquet he was carrying onto the floor.

"Which one?" Caleb said, anxiously. "Which daughter are you here for?"

It had better not be Lilian.

She was his.

Zayne pushed him forcibly. Causing Caleb to stagger back a bit. "What the heck has gotten into you all of a sudden?" Zayne said, voiced raised.

"Answer me!" Caleb pressed. "Which one of Steven Kingsley's daughters are you here for?"

Zayne paused for a bit, then said, "I'm here for Jasmine. Jasmine Kingsley."

Zayne fixed his collar, picked up his bouquet, shot Caleb a glare, and walked away.

Jasmine. Not his Lilian.

GOOD. Caleb smiled to himself, relief washing over him.

Then, upon realizing what had happened, he chased after Zayne.

"Zayne wait, I'm sorry man!" He put his hand on Zayne's shoulder, which Zayne immediately smacked away.

Caleb raised both of his hands slightly to signal he wasn't looking for a fight. "Look man, I'm REALLY sorry. I thought - I thought you were here for Lilian."

Zayne raised an eyebrow. "No. Who even is that?"

"She's also one of Mr. Kingsley's daughters. I panicked and thought you were here for her." Caleb paused. "She.....she isn't my girlfriend yet either. And, it's a bit difficult for me, since you know, I'm working for her father and all. So, I'm doing my best to climb up the company ladder, to get Mr. Kingsley to acknowledge me. Then, when I finally ask Lilian out, he would be okay with it." Caleb said, earnestly. His palm was at his nape, and his was flushed as he spoke.

Zayne glanced at his face.

Caleb was clearly head over heels for this Lilian, he thought.

Zayne sighed. After hearing that, he could definitely sympathize with the situation he was in.

"Fine then. But don't pull a stunt like that again." Zayne said, and smiled at him to let him know they were good now.

"Thanks bro." Caleb smiled back at him.

"Now how about we go find your Jasmine-."

"I need to see Nerissa Kingsley, NOW."

Both Zayne and Caleb turned their heads to see where the stern voice had come from.

A purple-haired man, dressed head to toe in designer clothing, was talking to the receptionist, who looked nervous.

"I'm terribly sorry Sir, but if you don't have an appointment scheduled with Miss Nerissa, we can't let you meet her. But to help you, I can call her right now to tell her you're here to see her for urgent business, may I have your name so I can let her know-"

"No! Don't tell her my name!" The purple-haired man exclaimed. "She definitely won't want to see me then...."

The poor receptionist stopped in her tracks. Clearly she was lost and didn't know what to do.

Caleb and Zayne strode towards them.

"Look man, don't give the lady a hard time." Caleb started. "She's just doing her job."

The purple-haired man sneered at Caleb. "My name's Rafayel not 'man', and you should go back to minding your own business." He crossed his arms.

"Well, Rafayel." It was Zayne who spoke this time. "Like the receptionist said, since you don't have an appointment, why don't you have her call her boss then?"

This was actually what Zayne was planning to do, he was certain Jasmine wasn't going to turn him away.

Rafayel rubbed his temples. "I told you, if she finds out I'm the one meeting her, she isn't gonna show up-"

"Goodness gracious."

Caleb, Zayne and Rafayel all turned towards where the voice had come from.

All of their eyes widened in surprise.

It was Mr. Steven Kingsley.

Mr. Kingsley pinched the tip of his nose bridge in exasperation.

Behind him, there were two other men. A blonde man with blue eyes dressed in a lavish white suit. The other man had white hair, striking red eyes, and he was dressed in an all black suit.

"I didn't expect all of you to come here at the same time, but here we are." Mr. Kingsley started, then, he pointed his finger at Caleb, Rafayel and Zayne.

"The three of you, please come to my office. Now."

I hope you all enjoyed Part 2: Second Convergence 🫶

This is the first meeting of Caleb, Zayne and Rafayel😁

I will do my best to have Part 2: Third Convergence be posted within this week🥹 That one will have the perspectives of all the LIs😁

Thanks so much for reading!!!

Please tell me your thoughts about this series so far in the comments, it will be highly appreciated💜🩵🩷❤️🧡

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Just What You Wanted

Pairing(s): onesided!Pietro Maximoff x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: pietro really misses his chance here, oocpietro? (first time writing him), reader being a big adult and moving on, pietro acting like a child, mentions of sexy time (readerxbucky), toxic!pietro, protective!bucky

Words: 4430

Summary: You decided to take your chance and ask Pietro out. There had to be more to his flirting right? Unfortunately he turns you down but you won't waste your time mourning what could have been. You move on and find a perfect partner in the Winter Soldier.

"Maybe I got the signals mixed up?" You lightheartedly muse to Wanda. Carefully, you push down on the button stopper of the wine box that was situated between the two of you.

Wanda shakes her head. "Don't even give it a second thought. He's my brother and I love him, but you can do WAY better than him." She couldn't fathom why Pietro would reject your proposition of a date. Wanda knew her twin brother liked you. Painfully obvious in the obnoxious manner both of you flirt.

Making a mental note to chew him out later, Wanda tilts the remainder of her own wine glass into her mouth. "He's been acting like a complete ass since we arrived in America. I think now that he has freedom, he's overdosing on it. What was the term Tony used?"

You choke on your wine, a snort burning your nose and throat. "Man-whore."

She nods. "Yes! That is it. He's become quite a man-whore!"

Near dying next to her, you're forced to put down your wine glass or you would ruin your bedspread. Once your hands were free, you use them to clutch your stomach as it aches from your laughter.

Really you weren't that upset about it. You thought you would give it a shot, maybe something was there. No big duh to you.

"Did he really say he didn't want to date you because you're coworkers?" Confusion still plagued Wanda as she slowly blinks her eyes. Trying to understand what her brother was thinking. They didn't have that type twin telepathy. That was mainly based on feelings. "That's complete bull."

"Honestly it's okay. Really." You tell Wanda trying to calm her down. "He's probably right. No harm done."

Wanda placates her own feelings with a smile at how unperturbed you were by the rejection. Pietro was a fool. His loss will be someone else's gain.

Not long after someone else did stumble upon you.

Never before had you worked with the Winter Soldier. You'd seen him around Avenger's HQ and spotted him in the common areas, but you wouldn't say you were close to Bucky Barnes. Only a handful of friendly words had ever been shared between you.

The assignment that paired you together with him would ultimately turn out to be a blessing in disguise. A simple mission that you confidently thought you could finish in no time. The run of the mill shadow organization that possessed weapons of mass destruction and infiltrating said organization. You and Bucky were picked for this based on your success record and skill set. You found it a compliment as you heard nothing but great things about Bucky. He was a fine soldier and outstanding friend to Steve Rogers.

Fury told you the timeline looked to be a month before this organization known as 'Specter' planned to launch its weapon. A major problem was that their base was hidden so both you and Bucky would have to go deep undercover.

You shared an close space with Bucky and found him pleasurable to be around. He was easy on the eyes too. His smile makes every inch of you flutter delightfully. Similar to how flirting with Pietro made you feel.

Patience was required when gathering intel. An operation like this couldn't be rushed. That meant learning more about Bucky. He even manages to pry some stories from your childhood out of you. Things you hadn't remembered in a long time.

When passing binoculars, fingers linger against one another. Excuses of offering warmth just so that you could press yourself against him. His jacket might as well have belonged to you now due to how often you were wearing it now.

"It looks better on you anyway." Bucky would tell you. A heaviness in his gaze puts all of your functions at a halt.

You started noticing how kissable his lips looked. Or the fine veins that run along his hands. Beautiful as they held a gun. Between your legs start to ache for him when you watch Bucky strangling a man for information. You never found violence. . . attractive until you worked with Bucky. It was just a means to get by. A requirement for the world you lived in.

Throughout the mission, you manage to keep things professional. Even though the burning gazes exchanged were still frequent. You had to focus your efforts on completing your assignment. Bucky respects that type of work ethic.

Identifying the main figures within Specter was easy once missing pieces were filled with the information you received along the way. One would be spared for questioning, the other two were quickly disposed of.

When your prisoner was handed over to the government which held dominion, you and Bucky head back to the room you'd been using to hide out in.

You were excited to go home and tell Wanda all about it. You're giddy, imagining her scandalized reaction that you loved. Her eyes would get so big, hands clutching onto your arm begging for more details.

A knock at the door puts a pause in your packing as you go to check the peephole. You open it once you verify it's just Bucky. "You all done packing? Sorry, I'll just be five more minutes."

He closes the door behind him. "It's not that."

The depth of his voice has you shivering, turning back to him with your full attention. He's cleaned off the dirt from his face and changed his clothes. Appeared Bucky even brushed his dark hair. Disheveled Bucky was sexy but cleaned up Bucky was a god damn smoke show. Your bones become trembling jelly as he stalks up to you.

"I believe, we have some personal business to take care of." The corner of his lips twitch up in a predatory manner to show off his sharp cuspids.

"By all means," You breathe out and internally cheer when it doesn't come out as a squeak "lets commence the business Mr. Barnes."

The delay of your return to headquarters did raise brows.

Especially Pietro's.

You took Wanda by the arm and she knew you had a story to tell. Using her magic-like ability, she conjures a bottle of wine accompanied by two glasses.

Two schoolgirls giggling and kicking their legs as they talk about one's crush.

"And he told me-" your cheeks hurt from your smile "that he wants to take me out on a proper date."

Wanda swoons backwards as she falls against your bed. She says something in her native Sokovian before switching to English "I told you that you could do much better than Pietro."

From then on it was a common occurrence to find you and Bucky together. You visit one another's room frequently day and night. Time spent not on assignment, Bucky would take you out on both fun and romantic dates. He wooed you like no other man had before. A goddamn gentleman who ate and slurped your pussy in a way that sucked the soul right out of you.

There were men before Bucky but sweet mercy they couldn't compare to the beast that was Bucky once he got your legs perched atop his shoulders. You would never had taken him for a sloppy eater, not by the way he used his fork and knife when he took you out to fancy restaurants. When he slides in his cold metal fingers, your back spikes up in a arch off the bed.

However, not everyone in the Avenger's Headquarters was happy for you and Bucky.

When Pietro first walked into the communal kitchen to find Bucky's hand up your shirt, he nearly suffered from an aneurysm on the spot. Thankfully his feet reacted faster than his brain and took off in the opposite direction before either of you noticed his presence. He'd heard the office gossip that you and Bucky were an item now. Pietro arrogantly thought that your relationship with the winter soldier was a fling or some fucked up way for get back at him for turning you down.

Hitting the two month mark had Pietro sweating. Your relationship with Bucky was thriving. The sting of betrayal sears his insides. When he voices his woes to his twin, Wanda held no comforting words for him.

"Oh well. They love each other now. So you have to move on." Uncaringly, her attention goes back to her phone. "You had your chance, Pietro."

He shoots his sister a glare. "Have some empathy."

That makes her laugh but at least Wanda puts her phone down and turns back to Pietro. "Empathy? Refresh my memory, what was the real reason why you didn't date her?" He'd told you it was because you were coworkers. Claimed he didn't want things to be weird around HQ. Conveniently forgetting that Wanda and Vision were in a happy relationship. But she knew the disgusting truth.

His eyes turn pleading, round and lined with those pretty lashes he flaunted. "Wanda-"

"No, I want to hear you say it again and really help me try to understand." Her arms cross in front of her.

Pietro takes his bottom lip between his teeth to give it a worrying chew. "I. . . I wasn't ready to be in a monogamous relationship- Hey, I'm being serious." He adds the last part after he hears Wanda snort. "We spent all of our adolescence and young adult lives under HYDRA control. It's only been two years since we were liberated. I want to live a little bit more before settling down."

"And look what that has cost you."

"I didn't think-"

"No, you didn't." Wanda's exasperated. "That's not a good excuse. Bucky is in the same boat as us and just because he missed out on having a life he didn't let that stop him from making things official with her."

In short, Pietro simply had no choice but to deal with it. And his way of dealing with it was bringing home his current ladies in the hopes of catching your attention. If you see him with another woman, maybe your jealous would remind you of your feelings for him. That tactic didn't work and only gained him disapproving looks from his twin. He stopped when it was clear your heart eyes weren't straying from Bucky.

Evident that he wasn't going to win you back, Pietro's disbelief curdled to jealousy.

Words weren't enough to bring him to his senses; none in English or Sokovian reached his ears. Exhausted from trying to speak reason to him, Wanda stops all together. Perhaps her brother needed to fall on his ass to wake up.

You weren't blind to Pietro's spike in hostile conduct. Lately there were a few close calls between Bucky and Pietro. Bucky refused to stand for Quicksilver's attitude. Fists weren't raised- not yet. But if looks could kill, both would be incinerated.

Unable to ignore Pietro at Headquarters, you and Bucky take the plunge and buy an apartment together and move out of the superhero facility all together. The apartment complex was still relatively close to headquarters; mainly housing other staff that worked out of there.

Just because you removed yourselves, you were still Avengers and required to attend functions for different movie fundraisers or anything else that had you in hair and make-up for two hours. It paid off to watch Bucky's mouth near drop at the sight of you. This once-assassin who has blood on his hands truly did something to you when he wore a sharp suit. Seams that are streamline and highlight his broad shoulders. Even his waist was deliciously framed. You wanted to hop on him and wrap your legs around that sinfully sexy waist.

Alas, neither you or Bucky could just continue to stand there drooling over the other.

"Wipe your chin, Barnes." Natasha teases as she passes by. To you she shoots a lively smile. "Come on you two. Free booze and food await us."

Pietro had already found the said free booze; ignoring the free food part. He was obligated to attend the gala, agreed to it months ago. If he backed out now, everyone else would have his ass over the fire.

Though he felt like maybe it would have been better had he just said fuck it and stayed home. Especially when you and Bucky walk in looking like the perfect couple. Cameras went off yet people kept a respectful distance from the two of you. You basically had your own guard dog in the form of the Winter Soldier. He towers over you in a way that told others to back off; a protective hand holding onto your's. Both of you are quite the sight standing next to Wanda and Vision. Wanda happily hugs you, her words lost to the loud background music.

He can't take his eyes off of you.

Alcohol warming his system, Pietro downed glass after glass. There was a momentary warmth he felt inside of him before he caught sight of you again.

Hating seeing the two of you together, Pietro spirals in his own head. Plenty of pretty girls around him, all he could focus on was you and the fact that you were hanging off the arm of a murderer. Everyone seemed to have so quickly forgotten that this man killed Howard and Maria Stark.

The moment you unlatched yourself from Bucky's side to go to the bar, Pietro descent upon you.

Your heightened senses barely register the high velocity sound that you associated with Quicksilver. Half a step back was all you were able to make before you heard his husky voice "You find killers sexy?"

His question rakes claw marks against your mind. "What?"

A mocking laugh puffs out of him and he rolls his eyes over in Bucky's direction. "The Winter Soldier. You like the fact that he's murdered innocent people?"

On edge, you notice in your periphery how people were starting to turn to look your way. The volume of Pietro's voice was gradually starting to rise and draw onlookers.

Flushing and attempting to retain your composure, you keep your shoulders back confidently. “Looks like you’ve had too much to drink.” Your eyes search the crowd for Wanda so that she could take him home before he said or did anything he’d regret later. You couldn’t see her or her floating man among the many bobbing heads. Even unable to find Bucky despite his stature.

“Deflecting the question, I see.” Pietro smugly smirks at you; a sway in the step that he took forward. “Shall I raise my voice so you can hear better?”

You narrow your eyes into deadly slits as you squint at him. He was clearly not in his right mind. “What do you want, Pietro?” What was this sudden change in him about? The moment your relationship became public knowledge, Pietro had been pissy ever since. He was the one who rejected you. The one who told you that you shouldn't date because you're coworkers. He had no right to be jealous.

Bucky suggested a few weeks ago that Pietro may still be interested in you. Proposed that his peaked interest must have been from seeing you and Bucky together. At the time you laughed it off. A corner of your mind was screaming at you to listen to him.

Not appreciating how closely he leaned into you, Pietro snarls "That guy has taken numerous, innocent lives. How could you fuck someone with that kind of blood on their hands?" Now you were sure more and more people were pulling out their phones and recording to send to whatever social media platform.

Heat rises off of your cheeks as they blare like alarms. You felt your body tremble not because you were afraid, no, you tremble under the weight of your own fury. Your powers rattled the bars of the cage you kept it in. Clenching down hard against your back teeth with the effort to keep them at bay.

"You know why he did those terrible things. It wasn't him." Growling softly you try desperately to keep a semblance of a calm tone. You were never the type to show your anger. The public might turn against you if they see you break from Pietro's cruel words. Even the bits you were letting slip was enough for your audience to know you were beyond furious. "He was under HYDRA mind control. You of all people should understand the ways HYDRA implements their tools of pain." It wasn't working.

You needed Bucky before you really snapped your last strand of patience.

At least Pietro had enough sense to take a step away from you. In his drunken stupor, he hadn't noticed the crowd. Dozens of people holding up their smartphones, a few reporters who were allowed in were snapping bright pictures. That's when he saw Bucky and Wanda toward him.

Wanda uses her power to wrap him up in scarlet bindings and drag him to where she stood at the cusp of the crowd. She spits something out in Sokovian toward him, motioning for Bucky to go to your side and get you out of there. He looked more ready to rip Pietro apart but valued your wellbeing over all else and easily strode to you.

He slings a protective arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his side in an attempt to keep you out of the sight of cameras.

Those involved were taken back to Avengers HQ so the situation could be straightened out. That is, after Fury was done yelling at everyone for how they acted at what was supposed to be an extravagant gala. Admonished how you and Pietro were acting like dramatic high schoolers with your stunt and how this would definitely tarnish the reputation of earth's mightiest heroes. Pietro was still as drunk as a skunk, hissing at everyone who tried to get near him. Only being held back by Wanda who was still yelling at him in Sokovian. As everyone argued back and forth, only you and Bucky remained quiet.

A small upside could be found. Though it was quite the public altercation, popularity for you and Bucky as a couple sky rocketed. Within the hours of it happening, many social media websites exploded with praise at how you defended your man.

That news wasn't enough to make anyone happy at the moment.

Seeing that nothing would be resolved with such bickering, Bucky clears his throat to draw everyone's attention to him. "May I get a word with Pietro alone?"

Fury doesn't look like he wants to allow it. He was assured though that if anything were to happen, Bucky would be able to stand on his own and fend off an angry Pietro. His single dark eye roves around the room before conceding to Bucky's request.

Motive unclear, you arch a brow in his direction. He just offers you a smile and leans toward you to say "It'll be alright. Jus' wanna talk to him."

"I've seen you 'just talk' to people before." You remind him trying to keep your voice stern. "Don't make things worse. Okay?"

"Yes ma'am." That smirk of his will be the death of you, you just know it. There's a silent exchange between you and Wanda who finally relinquishes her scarlet restraints on her twin brother. Pietro staggers without the additional support that held him up.

"Fifteen minutes. Cameras are rolling." Fury warns as he escorts the others out.

Comfortably strolling forward, Bucky pulls out one of the conference chairs that had been entirely ignored. "Take a seat, Maximoff." Immediately there's a snarl curling Pietro's lips until Bucky rolls his eyes. "Or stand. Doesn't matter I guess. Just, listen to me for a moment."

Inebriated individuals don't understand reason, too caught up in their own tilted perception. He wants to do anything else but listen to Bucky prattle on about how he needs to back off of you. That you belonged to him now and how he wouldn't tolerate Pietro's pursuit of you.

Luck appeared to be on Bucky's side for the alcohol was wearing off of Pietro as he started to lose his steam and reluctantly slink down into the chair opposite Bucky's. His dark eyes hold steady onto the metal armed man. Remembering all too clear the stories that HYDRA would tell him and Wanda about the best operative they've ever had: the Winter Soldier. Would this legend of a man be able to hold off Pietro's speed attacks if he were to try?

Honestly he was tired of being angry. Emotions both positive and negative were siphoned out of him until there was nothing left.

Bucky could see that.

"Whatever we say here, stays here." Bucky speaks again, each word cruelly clipped. They strike Pietro like small arrows. Nothing could prepare him for the dead eyed glare that now pinned him to his chair. "Your behavior stops here. I've been more than patient. Held my tongue and my fist when I wanted to knock some sense into you. I didn't, for her sake since she didn't want to cause any trouble among the team. But you're spoiled brat act can't be tolerated anymore. You embarrassed all of us at the gala and made the Avengers look like fools."

His metal hand curls its fingers inwards toward his palm before releasing; an attempt to calm himself before his tone became too heated.

Pietro waits for any sign of movement for Bucky as the larger man deeply inhales. Finally, Bucky's eyes flick back up to him. "I get it."

With a heavy tongue, Pietro croaks out "Get what?"

"I know why and what has fueled your actions. Underneath it all you may have possibly loved her. You're upset that you lost your chance with her. It sucks, it has to to lose someone as amazing as her. I couldn't imagine. . ."

There's a flicker of anger at how the Winter Soldier spoke to him. Reminded Pietro of when his father would scold him as a child.

Bucky's voice soften when he detects the subtle twitch of Pietro's nose. He promised you that he wouldn't escalate things. "I'm sorry. I feel for you. But. . . I'm not going to be stupid enough to let her go. As long as she'll have me, she's mine."

He wanted to ignore the sincerity that warmed Bucky's words. Wanted to keep what little resentment remained inside.

Abruptly, Bucky stands from his chair; bottom of the legs scraping against the floor and startling Pietro in the process. In half a second, Pietro is up on his feet, taking a defensive position. Though his movements were sloppy as his perception was still muddled from his quickly consumed drinks.

Whatever camaraderie had been built between them in those short minutes of Bucky talking was gone. Back were those assassin sharp eyes. "If you upset her one more time, it won't be me you'll have to deal with. It will be the Winter Soldier coming after you. And I can guarantee not even your speed will be able to stop that monster."

"I told you."

He didn't want to hear it from Wanda right now. Damn her for always being right. Right now he just wanted to forget how he made such an ass of himself in front of so many people. When he wasn't trying to fend off his massive hangover migraine he was scrolling through social media, coming upon videos of how he spat in your face saying all sorts of cruel and vindictive things to you. So many mean comments slandering Quicksilver and adoring the hero couple.

In an attempt to drown out Wanda, Pietro grabs his pillow and lays it over his head.

That wouldn't stop her as she was on the war path. He'd hurt her best friend.

Red tendrils of her power rip his pillow off of his head. Pietro hisses in response and whips his head to narrow his eyes in her direction. "You're going to apologize to her. Because if you don't and pull this kind of shit again, Bucky is going to kill you and I won't be able to stop him. You're an idiot for not realizing how protective he is of her." She mumbles something about how lucky he was that Bucky hadn't smashed his face in the conference room during their private chat.

Quiet for a moment, Pietro sits up and leans his back against the bed's headboard. "I know. . . I know I've fucked everything up. I just. . ."

Wanda still has her arms crossed in front of her chest, posture vibrating with the need to throttle her twin. The frostiness in her expression slackens though at Pietro finally admitting that he was in the wrong. Not like she got satisfaction out of it. It pained her watching her brother act like a total dick head toward her best friend. It wasn't long ago that she thought you and Pietro would make a nice couple.

He sighs and runs a hand through his ash blonde hair, repeating "I've fucked everything up."

"At least you're owning up to it." quietly points out Wanda.

Time was necessary for all wounds to heal. That applied toward the ones Pietro had caused. He gave you space for two days before he came up to you to ask for a private word; promising he'd behave and that he just wanted to apologize for everything. Even told you about what Bucky had said to him.

You knew he told the truth because his face was the definition of genuine remorse and repentance.

For most of his speech he looked at his hands, but when he dared to glance up at you Pietro would hold your gaze. His earnestness brimming in his blue eyes. For so long they had been darkened by his discontent. Now they remind you of the pretty bright hue they used to be.

After a moment of silence, Pietro hesitantly asks "Are you happy with him? Truly?"

"I am. I've never been this happy in my entire life. He makes me happy." A bright smile flourishes on your face. "I love him."

Pietro nods.

"Hey, even if things didn't work out romantically with us doesn't mean I don't want to be friends with you. I do. We had fun as friends." You bump him with your elbow.

A wisp of a smile beckons at his lips but couldn't quite get all the way there. "I'd like that. Eventually. . ."

"Eventually." You repeat in agreement.

Tags:

@enchantingcupcakecollectionfan

@bakugospartner

[queenjunothegreat]

A Logarithmic Love Story

Hiiiiii everyone! I was in the middle of writing something and got stuck, so I wrote something else to get unstuck! This was written in approximately two hours while I was doing PT, and is completely unedited, so do as you will *(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭*ଘ

Sometimes, Leo didn't know how he got to be where he was. Okay, well, that wasn’t quite true. He definitely understood the sequence of events that had led to him becoming somewhat friends with Jason Grace of all people. Jason Grace with his perfectly chiseled features and amazingly broad shoulders and darling blue eyes that had everyone on campus swooning. He understood that his mom had threatened to cut off his allowance if he didn't get a job, which had led to him signing up as a math tutor, which had led to Jason sheepishly coming up to him in the library to confirm that Leo would be the one to guide him through the murky waters of advanced logarithmic functions. He even understood that somehow or another, Jason actually started to look forward to their study sessions, simply because he enjoyed Leo’s company. Leo logically understood the timeline and that all of these things had happened, but sometimes his brain got so caught up on the absurdity of the fact that he was semi-friends with Jason Grace that it kind of forgot that all of those events weren't just some extended fever dream. (Leo would never have a fever dream about befriending Jason. If he was going to go through the effort of fantasizing up a whole relationship with Jason, it was not going to be friendly, to say the least. Or very PG-13, for that matter.)

So, with all that in mind, Leo thought it wasn’t completely unfair to cut him some slack when Jason hit him with a major curve ball at 7:30 AM on a Saturday. (Jason was a freak who loved early mornings, and Leo was a weak, weak man.)

Leo blinked hard and squinted at Jason in confusion. “Wait, run that by me one more time?”

“I just wanted to know if you were single,” Jason asked. He didn’t look up at Leo, too busy highlighting his notes like a dork.

“Why do you wanna know? Gonna make fun of me when I say yes or something?” Leo joked.

That actually got Jason’s attention and he looked up from his paper, nose scrunched up in confusion so that it knocked his glasses a little askew. “What?”

“You know, the whole ‘You’re never gonna meet someone who will put up with you, and you’re gonna spend the rest of your life third-wheeling Piper and whatever hot girl she's dating’ joke?” Leo prompted. “No offense, dude, but you need new material. Definitely not the first time I've heard that one.”

“I– No! That's absolutely not why I was asking!”

“Okay, I'll play your game,  Grace. Yes, I'm single. Why do you wanna know?”

Jason cleared his throat and sat up a little straighter, his cheeks pink. “Well, if you are single I'd like to change that.”

Now it was Leo's turn to be confused. He quickly started running through the list of Jason’s friends, trying to remember if any of them were single. “Uh, how? Do you have a friend you’re trying to set me up with?”

That was apparently the wrong answer because Jason's face got stormy. “Why the hell would I let any of my friends date you?”

Okay, ow, that one may have stung a little, but Leo did his best to play it off. “Yeesh, no need to be mean. I thought we were friends, dude. I mean, at least kinda. Not besties or anything, but, you know, friend-ly, at least.”

“We are friends,” Jason insisted, suddenly looking like a kicked dog. “How am I being mean? If anything, you're being mean.”

“Me?” Leo spluttered. “I'm being mean? You're the one who doesn't even think I'm good enough to date your friend group.”

“You’re putting words in my mouth,” Jason accused. “Words I never said because I don’t even speak the language of the words you just put into my mouth.”

“Okay, okay, fine! I misinterpreted  you. My bad.” Leo flapped his hands through the air dismissively. “But I still don't get why you called me mean.”

“Look, I was just trying to say I'm into you.” Jason was back to staring at his paper, cheeks a dark red. “You were the one making fun of me.”

Leo was pretty sure his brain would have worked better after getting trampled by a feral half-goat gym coach than it did after hearing those words come out of Jason Grace's mouth. “You are not into me.”

Jason once again whipped his head up just because Leo’s words had baffled him so much. “What? Yes, I am!”

“No, you're not,” Leo explained slowly, adopting the voice he used when Jaspn got scared of exponential equations. “Dude, have you seen yourself?”

“Is that a trick question?”

“Okay, have you seen me?” Jason's eyes very obviously trailed over Leo’s form and Leo thought for sure his hair was going to burst into flame. “Did you just check me out?”

Jason immediately jerked his head to the side so he couldn’t see Leo, looking just like those videos of dogs sitting next to a mess they’d obviously made and pretending they didn't do it. “Um, no?”

“Liar,” Leo grinned. Then the situation caught up with him and he went right back to confusion. “Why were you checking me out?”

“Because you're hot? Why else?”

“Incorrect. Only one person thinks I'm hot and that person is me.”

“Okay, well, congratulations. At least two people think you're hot,” Jason scoffed. “Though, Im beginning to think you don't actually think you're very hot at all.”

“Shut up,” Leo ordered, unwilling to analyze the validity of Jason’s accusation right then. “Look, you being into me doesn't make sense, like, mathematically speaking.”

“Okay, well, I am into you,” Jason insisted. “Look, if you're not into me, then I–”

“Woah, woah, woah!” Leo interrupted. “Now who's putting words into whose mouth? I am very into you; I have fully functioning eyes and hormones that are definitely buying what you're selling.”

Jason’s face went a shade closer to scarlet. “Alright fine then. Date me and prove it.”

“Maybe I will!”

“Fine!”

“Fine!”

The words hung in the air between them before reality his Leo like a truck. His breath hitched in the back of his throat and his cheeks warmed. He cleared his throat and Jason winced. “Uh, Jason? Did you just ask me on a date? Like, a real date?”

“Why do you wanna know? Gonna make fun of me if I say yes, or something?” Jason asked dryly. Leo furiously shook his head no, and a tiny smile formed on Jason’s lips. “Then, technically, I asked you to date me, but I haven't asked you on a specific date.”

“Oh.” Leo’s cheeks got somehow warmer, and he started fiddling with his fingers.

“Do you, um,” Jason cleared his throat awkwardly and adorably. “Do you want to go on a date? We could maybe get ice cream after this.”

“Uh, yeah. I like ice cream.”

“Cool.”

“Cool.” They went quiet again before Leo cleared his throat. “Hey, Jason?”

“Yeah?”

“Why the hell didn't you lead with that?”

Jason’s cheeks skipped right over scarlet to land in a nice purpley shade of maroon. “I was… trying to play it cool.”

Leo gaped at him. “Okay, do not do that. You cannot be playing games with my self-conscious, neurodivergent ass, man. I'm sensitive.”

“I'm sorry,” Jason said earnestly. “I was just really nervous and Percy said to do that.”

“What the fuck made you think getting dating advice from Percy was a good idea?”

“Well, he's dating someone out of his league, so I figured he could help me.”

“Dude, even I know that Annabeth is only dating Percy because she's as batshit insane as he is,” Leo scoffed. Then the world did a record scratch and he was blushing again, which was super bad for the very cool macho persona only 5’3” Latino twinks can pull off. “Wait, did you just imply that I am out of your league?”

“Obviously. Have you seen yourself?”

“Trust me, I try not to.” Jason's face puckered in that familiar way Piper’s did when she was concerned about something Leo had said about himself, and he wasn't ready to deal with that, so he just flapped his hands in the air again. “Okay, fine, we're both in the same league. Promote yourself to whatever league you think I'm in.”

Jason puffed his cheeks out slightly, displeased with and probably ignoring the order but he nodded. “Okay, we're both in each other’s league.”

“Alright.”

“Alright.” They went silent again for a moment, but this time Jason was the one who broke it. “Hey, Leo?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you wanna maybe get out of here?”

Leo flicked his eyes up to Jason who was giving him a shy little smile and looking at him with eyes full of adoration. Leo felt himself smile, wide and giddy and maybe a little goofy, but he didn’t care. “Yeah, Jason. I'd like that a lot.”

[imavikingo]

I was thinking on when Steve lost Bucky for the 3rd time (1st when he was drafted, 2nd when he was told he was MIA, 3rd when he fell) he tried to get drunk to forget, right? If he did that then...

What did he do when he lost him for the 6th time? (4th when he escaped, 5th when Bucky was in cryo, 6th the snap)

I mean technically Bucky died twice, but Steve lost him six times already.

And of he tried to get blind drunk once of those times- did he self-harm in other ways too?

To dull the pain? He can't get drunk, he heals quickly, he can't die easily either, so what did he do?

He wouldn't want to die when he knows for a fact that Bucky is alive ofc, but I can't see him acting normally or without a little bit of reckless energy.

To dull the pain and disappoinment (he can't feel like that, that's Bucky's choice -Cryo-. But how it hurts him tho).

(unrelated to this line of thought but it is relevant to the idea regardless)

That's why I can't fathom the idea of Steve abandoning Bucky in endgame.

He lost him 6 six (6) times already and he just... Went away? To a woman he only kissed once? After all he did for him, the pain and loss?

Even if you don't ship them, you have to think that to be really ooc on Steve's part. Everything in his character arc in the MCU is related to Bucky (and loss). Yes he liked Peggy, but he didn't suffer nor mourn her the same way he mourned Bucky (She was alive, but had dementia and was also very old, and had her own life).

His feelings for Peggy were more a "what if" and lost possibilities than anything.

She was an idea, a fantasy (that's why Wanda used that when fighting with him, right?). Not something real.

He wanted to be with her, but he didn't really knew her or love her (at least I don't think so).

She was the first woman that saw him for him after all. Before everything. But that's it.

He liked her for that (and her strong personality too) but did he love her? He didn't try to get on dates after he was defrosted because he knew people would only see Captain America, not Steve Rogers. He needed to represent an ideal and knew no one would understand (the pain, loss) and have the patience to be with him. That’s why he also highlighted the shared life experience thing.

So she was comforting, reassuring in a toxic and unhealthy kind of way (memories and fantasy aren't healthy when used like that). But still a what if and lost opportunity. He had to let her go at one point. And he did(!) But they had to fuck it up…

I mean... it's the same thing when you're still hung up on an ex. You want to think of the possibilities, the what ifs, the "what could have been" But when you go back to them nothing is like you remembered, nothing is like you wanted and you are dissatisfied and disappointed.

(Because all of that was in your head, it wasn't real).

And besides, he knew she had a life of her own (a fulfilling one at that) so what, he was selfish enough to fuck that up too? Without helping HIM? Without saving HIM? Abandoning HIM? After just being brought to life? After grieving him for another five years? Bucky was his best friend, his companion, his best pal…

He wouldn't do that to him. He would die before hurting Bucky (as they already stablished for most of the fucking movies) He even was like “You don’t understand” when Peggy talked to him in the bars ruins.

I think in canon (not ooc/EG)Steve would entertain the idea, but would decide to just keep it as that: An idea, a fantasy. And move on like he already did before.

Also the idea that it was a Peggy from an alternative universe is flawed because he abandoned HIS Bucky, even if in the other universe he helped or whatever.

In HIS UNIVERSE he abandoned his best friend? Not believable. And the logic of “oh it didn’t change their timeline because it was another one” is also stupid.

They already fucked up with Steve fighting 2012!Steve and also telling him about Bucky (creating another universe more than likely). And they were supposed to be undetected. Not create new universes. Thats also why I’m so keen on the idea of Steve being in a prison or something. He already fucked up once, twice if you think he went to the past to stay.

How can he be free while fucking up the timelines? Yeah, nah.

Also… they implied Steve can’t age in a movie if I remember correctly…. How did he become old?

And the idea that he went to Peggy because “Tony told him to have a life outside of captain america” is fucked up. So what? He relates his Bucky’s existence with work? FUCK OFF. Endgame Steve is fucked up and the worst character assassination I’ve ever seen.

They were just too annoyed with the fans because we ship Stucky (even tho they used that to promote the movies in panels and stuff, hypocrites -​I remember clearly the producers? of the movie talk about gay characters and the actors talk about Stucky in those panels for then…be one of the russos in like 1 second and have that shit ass, fuck ass ending for Steve and Bucky. That shit was vile-).

im also annoyed with some people that now shit on Steve when umh… did you see the movies? The other movies? Not only Endgame? (Btw the only one that got a “good ending” was Tony because he died as a hero in front of everyone -even tho he didn’t want to help at first because he had a good life, the ONLY ONE OF THEM might I add-, everyone else got worse, is dead or they’re neglected and treated as haha funny character or haha funny moment)

Im all for ships and ideas and headcanons (even when I hate them with passion, you do you) but don’t try and use this character assassination as an excuse to shit on Steve. If you NEED to shit on a character for your ship to work, then you’re not doing a good job at it or your ship sucks. Idk what to tell you.

[teruwasright]

Idk if you heard about this theory but just like teru sword there's a theory that nene clips are also a blessed item by God making her a pure and Divine kanngi.

Because only people with purity could be kanngi, god gave that kanngi blood to the akane family but since all of them turned out to unpure so another kanngi was chosen.

And as we see in the latest chapter nene clip falling on there own and teru feeling something wrong, could it be sign? And even in like one of the chapter teru said yashiro is "special".

Just like in one of the chapters teru thought that aoi would be useful to the minamoto family but aoi isn't a pure kanngi and since nene is pure and divine kanngi doesn't it change the pov?

I feel like we will get a nice amount of teru and nene interaction if any of this makes sense because since aoi isn't a pure kaangi and nene is the pure one then what if the minamoto family needs "her"?

Plus the question is, WHY DOES THE MINAMOTO FAMILY WANT FROM THE KANNGI OR KAANGI??

(I am huge terunene shipper, do you also like terunene?)

(I am delululu)

Oooo yes!! I have heard this theory!!

I've also heard a theory about Nene's clips being directly related to a god (I forgot which one)

I love these theory's and enjoy them lots!!

Also this could be a fun place to put my thoughts that I think it would be VERY cool if Nene and Teru teamed up to save the timeline-

I believe you're up to date but if not-

SPOILERS‼️‼️‼️

I have a gut feeling Teru's gonna make another appearance- I could be very possible that Teru is dead like probably Aoi and Akane and what we saw was his last efforts to get Nene out-

BUT! I have a gut feeling we're gonna see him again and my gut has been right more times then it's been wrong-

I'm not confident in this but I trust my gut and I think it would be very cool to get a Nene and Teru team up!!!

I could imagine it being kinda like- an empty Teru just making sure Nene succeeds and a very nervous Nene-

Idk I like the idea I might do some sketches for it XD

Sorry that's a little off topic and I'm rambling TwT (adhd)

Also YES!!!! I LOVE TERUNENE!!!

I don't talk about them a lot (bc lots of people don't like it and I'd rather not be bullied-) but I love them lots and think there adorable!!

People sleep on the angst potential of TeruNene and it hurts sm-

Like- could you imagine how good fics would be if people wrote something like- them having a fight about Nene hanging around supernaturals (aka Hanako) and Teru admitting that he's scared he's gonna lose her?-

BRO DO YOU SEE THE VISION?!?!

Cough- ummmmmm basically yes I love TeruNene a lot <:3

[shzmluvrs]

HII there are so little shazam writers out there and i was wondering if you could write some general physical touch/lovey dovey stuff or headcannons with freddy from the first movie? I rarely see people writing for the first movie anymore!

No rush and feel free not to do this one!

Ikr? I feel so totally honored to be one of them, though😌. Anyhow, yes, I can definitely do that and tbh, I think this will be easy for me to do bc physical touch is my love language😼. #funfactaboutStaryoudidntaskfor🫶🏽. Anyways, tysm for requesting this!

~ Star✨️

Physical Touch (Love Language) Headcannons

Prompt: You're a touch-junkie. That much is true. It's just that...what other and better way is there to show your love other than through a gentle caress or an eager hold? Besides, Freddy doesn't seem to mind :).

Timeline: Post Shazam!, Pre S!:FOTG

TW/Content: Just a whole lotta love fr⚡️Corny, passionate, lovey dovey writing lmao⚡️You really have nothing to worry about reading this

Reader: Non-specified! Any Pronouns!

Requested By: Anon

Back to Master List

Was physcial touch Freddy's main love language before? No. Did it become his main love language after he met you? Absolutely. Bro has never been in a relationship before, and outside of family hugs and kisses, he's never really experienced anything relating to physical love.

And then you came in, flipped, and reversed all of that💅🏽. Before you two began dating, you were already pretty "clingy" was the word Freddy would use (in a good way, ofc). Always hanging onto one of his arms or playing with his hand/fingers, even playfully transferring kisses onto your index and middle finger and placing them onto his cheek or forehead.

So don't even get me started on how all of that increased tenfold when the two of you officially became a couple.

Oh wait, that's right, you want me to get started bc you reque-...rightrightright, anyways...

Idk how, but you literally managed to indoctrinate this boy into expecting your touch. Whenever he's near you, sees you, his arms just open instinctively so he can catch you in that hug he knows you're about to give him. Even if it knocks him over, he doesn't care because he always returns your hug with a million kisses peppered all over your face.

And hand-holding is a must. You don't care if his hand is sweaty because he's nervous, dry because he hasn't put on lotion yet, dirty because he's a superhero on the low, you👏🏽don't👏🏽care👏🏽. And if you do, you have him wash his hands. But either way, Freddy's hand? Held. Your happiness levels? Through the roof.

Hotel? Trivago.

But something that he really enjoys you doing is a specific type of hug. He can't exactly recall when you started doing it or why. Not that he minds, of course. But every day, he hopes you'll do it and hopes you'll never stop.

You'll come up behind him and wrap your arms and hands around his middle, pressing yourself up against him. For you, it was simply just another way to be closer to him. To love him, to hold him, take in that woodsy-pine secnt he always seemed to have...

But for him, it's when/how he feels the most loved by you. He gets almost emotional each time, without fail, overwhelmed with just the feeling and presence of you. He holds your hands against him, and he's practically breaking his neck, trying to turn and look at/kiss you. It's like you're a warm blanket, engulfing him with all that you have, treasuring him in ways not even his family could.

It reminded him of how much you loved him, how insane it was to him that he could be loved this way, in spite of whatever he considered to be flaws. Because there you were, to kiss and cherish them all, reassuring him you adored all parts and sides of him.

And natrually, he was very eager to return all of these feelings, never one to shy away from new experiences. He was constantly buzzed with the feeling of your touch, and he wondered if...

No, wanted you to feel the same. So, there were times when he clinged to you more than usual, and you were elated to soak up every moment. You can't get enough of the way he'll squish your cheeks together to form a pout on your lips, just to peck them over and over.

Or when he'd hold and tickle you, leaving you to cover your mouth to shield away giggles that Freddy just adored hearing.

And oh👏🏽my👏🏽gosh👏🏽 bestie... Superhero Freddy?? Should you know of his secret super alter ego, you can bet your Tumblr account that he's taking HELLA advantage of that. He loves, not only feeling like he can, but actually being able to protect you. Whether that be shielding you away behind him, holding you against him, or actually being able to carry you (while flying/hovering, might I add, how romantic💅🏽🥴~).

Also hello, bighandsbighands loOKATHISHANDS OMFG-

I- *aHem* I mean... y e w... you can never be normal about them, ever (idk how anyone could, I mean, look at them). Headpats and waist holds go crazy when he's in his superhero form, not to mention, you're always eager to just hold them and litter them in kisses the second you have the chance. Although the both of you do admit how odd it must look to any passing bystanders who don't understand that this superheo guy who looks insanely like Adam Brody is actually just your teenage boyfriend...

Either way, though, you love Freddy, and Freddy loves you. And neither of you will ever hesitate to show it through actions and words. Because to be honest, if I were you, I'd be cupping his face in my hands and playing with his hair so often, so you should get on that like... asap, no rocky😙.

Ight, peace y'all✌🏽.

I hope this was good enough to satiate the touch starved and needy out there, I can only do so much🥲. But feel free to extort me for more of my talents, I genuinely do really enjoy this and I just- *emotional*.

Okay bye.

~ Star✨️

Back to Master List

[destiny-in-the-universe]

Akira Cunningham: 9th Grade Kitsune

Alriiighttt, my lovelies, I figured I might as well try and make a comeback to the fandom by once more talking about my beloved future au "Akira Cunningham: 9th Grade Kitsune" for RC9GN.

I'm going to break this down into different sections, so it's a little easier but first - I wanted to thank my RC9GN mutuals, followers, and anyone just seeing my content every now and again for supporting me. It's been a trying journey, and yes, I'm also the world's biggest loser for how much I vent - and well, with the amount of I dedicated sharing my posts. Thank you for everything, and what's left in store... well, it's going to be an adventure, isn't it?

To start, here's a brief synopsis of the plot; Akira Cunningham - Randy's daughter - is selected to be Norrisville's next hero, only this time she's not the Ninja. This time, Akira is the Kitsune... because something is brewing, and it's going to take everything by storm. As Randy has long since retired the mantle of the Ninja, everything lies on Akira. Where one evil ended, another began. For evil can never be vanquished forever.

Read below the cut for more information!

The Cunningham (Extended) Family

Akira Cunningham is biologically the daughter of Randy Cunningham and Theresa Fowler. The late couple had been planning this for a while, deciding they wanted to have a kid and well, Akira was born

However - the other known fact of the extended Cunningham family, Randy doesn't have just one partner. During his late high school years, he got together with Howard as Randy's (bi) awakening led him to realize he had a thing for men. What blossomed from that, well, you're about to find out

Randy had been crushing on both Howard and Theresa, having decided to date them but then there was Debbie Kang. I'll get into the full schematics of their relationship later: the point is Randy, Howard, Debbie, and Theresa are in a polyamorous relationship

Having Akira was a decision made by everyone, and one thing led to another and she came into existence. Like, surrogacy but I am not a doctor so don't quote me on this

The (now) retired members of the new Norisu 9 all stay in touch which make them honorary members of the family

At the beginning of the story, Akira is meant to be young for reasons I won't be able to disclose just yet. Though, in the present timeline - she will be in high school, much like her dad Randy had been in once. She gets her mantle

As for everyone's jobs, Randy is a martial arts instructor as he earned enough inheritance to get by, Howard is a lawyer, Debbie's an investigative journalist, and Theresa happens to be in competitive sports (still has to do with baton twirling because why not-).

Arc One

Since the Ninja is a retired mantle as Randy- I mean the Ninja, took down the Sorcerer and closed the gateway into the Nine Realms, well, things were looking up. At least... in the beginning. For almost thirty years, the barrier between realms remained closed - without much use - and while certain nonhuman populations had begun living in Norrisville, danger remained at an all-time low. Unexpectedly however, the gates reopened (and strangely, without much explanation) and the yokai district began to flood onto Norrisville. Not all were of the friendly sort, but people didn't seem too concerned... then again no one expected what came next.

No one considered the possibility of gangs running amok within the city; let alone the fact that certain yokai had formed the literal yakuza, but what were they supposed to do? No one had seen the Ninja in such a long time - it would be near impossible to fight back, but there had been another mantle - lying dormant in hidden sight: The Kitsune. Only a yokai could take on other yokai. A cunning trickster. A nine-tailed fox.

Akira Cunningham was chosen to wield it, but apart from the yakuza - apart from yokai rampantly existing on the streets - there had to be someone pulling the strings. Surely... they weren't just wandering around for the heck of it.

Akira Cunningham

Akira does deserve her own post, without the added lore thrown in but then again - she's every way her dad's daughter. She has a good heart, even if some part of her wants to feel something greater - bigger - than herself. Akira's high, rambunctious, and spunky attitude, it's hard to nail her down as someone who displays interest in good deeds. Do not let this fool you, as she's also known for rushing in to protect her friends; even if she's also a little spiteful.

She has Howard's short temper and sometimes becomes frustrated, but I won't be able to dive much into this to keep spoilers from spilling. Akira dreamed of being a heroine when she was young, pretending to be the Ninja - acting like a young, hyper child wanting to be like Superman though who ever would've thought it'd become real?

Though... the journey is not hers alone. There is much more happening, and she can't do it all by herself. And that, my dear readers, is where I end this. More to come soon!

[is-this-fandom-who-knows]

Okay so I got several notes on my "Things Jason Todd should freak out over that happened while he was dead/in a coma/braindead/gone" post about using it in a timeline EXCEPT I listed those events off the top of my head and didn't actually look up when they happened relative to each other so I know that they weren't in chronological order so I am relisting each of those plus a few new ones in chronological order with issue dates here if anyone actually does want a timeline. If the comment references events that take place some time apart then I listed by whichever happened first. Check the issues listed to figure out when the second event happened. I may edit this post later.

"There's another Mister Miracle? And he's human?" (Mister Miracle Vol.2 #22, December 1990)

"Deathstroke killed Jericho? Damn and I thought Bruce was a shitty dad -" (New Titans #83, February 1992)

"Danny is dead?" (New Titans #84, March 1992)

"Donna had a kid? One that was supposed to grow up to be so evil that an entire group of Titans from the future came back in time to stop him from being born? Kid definitely got it from his dad." (Deathstroke the Terminator #14, September 1992) (Team Titans #1, September 1992)

"Apparently Miriam Delgado is a name I need to add to my list :)" (New Titans #90, September 1992)

"Since when did Deathstroke have a daughter and why is she missing an eye too?" (Deathstroke the Terminator #15, October 1992) (Teen Titans Vol.3 #12, August 2004)

"SUPERMAN DIED HOW THE FUCK DID THIS DOOMSDAY GUY JUST PUNCH SUPERMAN TO DEATH HE'S SUPERMAN." (Superman Vol.2 #75, November 1992)

"Okay what happened to Qurac? Entire countries do not just disappear." (Deathstroke the Terminator #19, February 1993)

"What the fuck do you mean Roy Harper's baby momma nuked it???!! Where did she even get nukes??!!" (Deathstroke the Terminator #19, February 1993)

"Also apparently Superman has a clone now???" (Adventures of Superman #500, June 1993)

"Who the fuck is this Bane guy and how did he break B's back." (Batman Vol.1 #497, July 1993)

"COAST CITY DOESN'T EXIST ANYMORE - WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT DOESN'T EXIST ANYMORE?" (Green Lantern Vol.3 #46, October 1993)

"Hal Jordan became evil?" (Green Lantern Vol.3 #49, February 1994)

"Are the Green Lantern Corps around rn?" (Green Lantern Vol.3 #50, March 1994)

"What the fuck is the speed force." (The Flash Vol.2 #91, June 1994)

"Iris Allen is alive and time travelled here from the future with her grandson apparently??" (The Flash Vol.2 #92, July 1994)

"Dick and Kory broke up???" (New Titans #114, September 1994)

"Is- is Guy Gardner human, or -" (Guy Gardner: Warrior #0, October 1994)

"There's a Green Arrow 2.0 and he's the first one's kid? Poor guy." (Green Arrow Vol.2 #91, November 1994) (Green Arrow Vol.2 #96, April 1995)

"So Green Arrow also died and came back?" (Green Arrow Vol.2 #101, October 1995) (Green Arrow Vol.3 #1 April 2001)

"Wait who the fuck is Neron." (Underworld Unleashed #1, November 1995)

"Blockbuster is smart now?" (Underworld Unleashed #1, November 1995) (Impulse #8, November 1995)

"You're telling me that B had the opportunity to bring me back to life - back to him and he didn't fucking take it?! Yes I know that I was already alive and it was like literally a deal with the devil it's the principle of the matter!" (Underworld Unleashed #2, December 1995)

"Apparently while I was gone Gotham was targeted by a deadly plague, got hit by a giant earthquake, and basically got kicked out of the US?" (Batman: Shadow of the Bat #48, March 1996) (Batman: Shadow of the Bat #73, April 1998) (Detective Comics #729, February 1999)

"Dick moved to Bludhaven and became a fucking cop?" (Nightwing Vol.2 #1 October 1996)(Nightwing Vol.2 #41 March 2000)

"What the fuck do you mean the sun almost got eaten." (The Final Night, November 1996)

"Look is Hal Jordan alive or not." (The Final Night#4, November 1996) (Day of Judgement #5, November 1999) (Green Lantern: Rebirth #4, March 2005)

"So... How old is Aqualad now? Why was he hanging out with Aquaman's dad? Why did that make him older?" (Tempest, November 1996 - February 1997)

"Oh, Aqualad's going by Tempest now? Good to know." (Tempest #2, December 1996)

"Supes got married? Congrats to him but I've met Lois Lane and I know she could do better." (Superman: The Wedding Album, December 1996)

"Martians almost took over the world?" (JLA Vol.1 #1, January 1997)

"Wait Donna's husband and baby died? Damn." (Wonder Woman Vol.2 #121, May 1997)

"The entire population had to run so that the Flash could siphon the energy to run a fucked up Hunger Games/Olympics crossover race set by a pair intergalctic alien gods so they wouldn't Alderaan earth?" (The Flash Vol.2 #138, June 1998)

"Someone actually decided to date the Joker? Is she insane? Don't answer that." (Batman: Harley Quinn, October 1999)

"Aqualad - sorry, Tempest- had a kid too?!" (Aquaman Vol.5 #63, January 2000)

"Flash got married too? IDK who Linda is but congrats to them both too I guess." (The Flash Vol.2 #159, April 2000)

"YOU'RE TELLING ME THAT BASICALLY EVERY HERO GOT THEIR AGE TEMPORARILY FUCKED UP? I NEED PICS ASAP." (Young Justice: Sins of Youth, May 2000)

"The JLA kicked B out and almost fell apart because they found out he had made contingency plans to take em all out? You're telling me they were actually surprised? Old man's paranoid as fuck of course he has contingency plans." (JLA Vol.1 #46, October 2000)

"What's all this about playing baseball to save the earth?" (Young Justice Vol.1 #27, January 2001)

"B and Supes told the rest the JLA their secret identities? I didn't think they had it in them." (JLA Vol.1 #50, February 2001)

"Commish got shot? By who? Are they still alive? I can fix it if they are he's the only cop worth a damn in this city." (Batman Vol.1 #587, March 2001)

"Y'all went to war with a guy trying to literally hollow out the universe? damn." (JLA: Our Worlds at War, September 2001)

"So Dickie finally got adopted." (Batman: Gotham Knights #21, November 2001)

"B got arrested and put on trial for murder? Imao." (Batman: the 10-cent Adventure, March 2002)

"WAIT HE WAS FRAMED BY BATGIRL 3.0'S DAD?" (Batman Vol.1 #605, September 2002)

"I'm sorry, Pretender's team led a bunch of other heroes, most of whom I've never even heard of, to invade the sovereign nation of Zandia? Like, I know it's just a nation for criminals to hang out and avoid justice, but still." (Young Justice Vol.1 #50, December 2002)

"One of the Pretender's friends was a ghost that was actually an interdimensional portal to Apokolips?" (Young Justice Vol.1 #55, May 2003)

"DONNA DIED AND CAME BACK TOO?" (Titans/Young Justice: Graduation Day #3, August 2003) (DC Special: The Return of Donna Troy, August 2005)

"Somehow the entire population got mind wiped and no longer remembers that Wally West is the Flash or that his identity used to be public. hm." (The Flash Vol.2 #200, September 2003)

"Jericho is alive???" (Teen Titans Vol.3 #2, October 2003)

"Is Jericho evil or not?" (Teen Titans Vol.3 #2, October 2003) (Teen Titans Vol.3 #12, August 2004)

"Raven is also alive and a teenager now???" (Teen Titans Vol.3 #3, November 2003)

"Blockbuster murdere- Catalina Flores? Ah, another name to add to my list, I see." (Nightwing Vol 2 #93, July 2004)

"The Atom's ex killed the Elongated Man's wife and hired Captain Boomerang to end the Pretender's dad? Damn." (Identity Crisis #1, August 2004) (Identity Crisis #5, December 2004)

"Why did Gotham become a war zone- oh it was one of B's contingencies? That tracks. Wait another Robin died? I don't care if she wasn't actually using the name Robin when she died what the fuck B?" (Detective Comics Vol.1 #797, October 2004) (Batman Vol.1 #633, December 2004)

"You were actually on to something working with this Orpheus guy but of course he got murdered too-" (Batman: Gotham Knights #57, November 2004)

"How many Green Lanterns are there anyways?" (Green Lantern: Rebirth, December 2004-May 2005)

"So Guy Gardener is human now, right?" (Green Lantern: Rebirth #2, January 2005)

"EDDIE IS A SUPERHERO NOW?" (Teen Titans Vol.3 #42, February 2007) [yeah I messed up on this one, Eddie didn't get his powers until post-Infinite Crisis]

Here's the link to the original post btw: