#it’s the first time he’s really left to be the responsible one and he’s not bad at it but he’s so out of depths

[loving-daisy]

Soft Spot | Theodore Nott x Reader

loving-daisy masterlist

Words: 8.1k

Summary: Theodore Nott didn't believe in love, but no one quite has ever made him feel like his best friend's younger sister, Y/N Malfoy.

Warnings: mentioned death of a loved one

Inspired by the song Soft Spot by keshi

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Theodore Nott wasn’t the type to openly express his feelings, least of all to someone like her. Y/N was a Malfoy, after all, and despite their shared house and mutual acquaintances, there was an unspoken divide between them.

Theodore Nott and Y/N Malfoy had always known each other, and their families had been good friends for many years. Growing up, they were frequently dragged together at family gatherings, whether at Malfoy Manor or in the gardens of the Nott estate.

Theodore remembered her as a little girl, a bit shy but was always the first to stand up for what she believed in, always the first to make sure he wasn’t left out of games or conversations, and always the first to offer a hug when things weren’t going well. He especially remembered her as the one who rushed up to him the first time she saw him after his mother had died. It was the first time, after his mother, he had ever received a hug from anyone. And that stook to him. 

But when they entered Hogwarts, everything changed. As Theodore and Draco were in the same year, they entered first, meaning it had been a few months before he got to see the young Malfoy again. They weren’t particularly close, no. So, they had no reason to keep up with each other’s business. 

The following year, as the young Malfoy entered Hogwarts, Y/N, like Draco, seemed to easily settle into her role in the Slytherin House—charming, sharp-tongued, with a quiet confidence. She wasn’t like the little Y/N he had once known when they were younger. She felt different. Like a little flower waiting to blossom.

With Draco being a protective brother, the young Malfoy quickly became a part of Draco’s inner circle with him, Blaise, and Pansy. 

Despite being in the same friend group for a couple of years, Theodore always felt that she was untouchable, in a way—too much of her family’s reputation clung to her for him to ever really consider her an equal.  Not to mention that she was his best friend’s little sister.

Yet today… there was something different. As she moved down the hall, her gaze still hovering on him for just a heartbeat longer than necessary, Theodore couldn’t help but feel like there was more to Y/N than the icy, untouchable Malfoy name. Her smile was fleeting, but it made him question everything he had assumed about the youngest Malfoy.

“Are you going to stare at that book all day, Nott?” Her tone was teasing, light, but there was an underlying note of something more—something that hinted she had noticed his attention.

His heart skipped, and he quickly looked up, startled. "I… uh, wasn’t staring at the book," he said quickly, unsure how to respond.

Malfoy smirked, clearly entertained by his flustered response. “I’m sure,” she said with a raised eyebrow, her tone dipping into something more challenging.

“Anyways,” she started, “I heard you’re not coming to the Hogsmeade trip again. Why so?” 

“I’m…uh…busy.” 

The girl scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Busy with what? Staring at another book?” 

“I…”

Theodore heard the girl groan.

“Come on, Theo, don’t you want to spend some time with us? With me?” Y/N asked, her gaze on him lingering for a few beats. 

Theodore's cheeks flushed, but he couldn't help but admire her boldness. It wasn't just that she had taken him off guard; it was also that she appeared so at ease with herself, so confident in her demeanor. She didn't need to prove anything to anybody, which was both frustrating and intriguing.

"I didn't know you wanted me to be there," he eventually mumbled, the words escaping before he could stop them. He quickly regretted it, although Y/N did not appear offended. Instead, she inclined her head, examining him briefly, her look softening somewhat.

"Well, of course, Theo," she said, her voice still light but with an edge that indicated she wasn't completely dismissive. "You are our friend after all." 

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Theodore felt out of place as he walked through the snow-covered streets of Hogsmeade, the air frigid and sharp against his skin. He'd spent the last few weeks avoiding this—and everyone. But something had changed. It was something about Y/N and how she approached and invited him to join. He had been reluctant, questioning if he was ready for the social engagement. But now, with the wind cutting his cheeks and the promise of Y/N's grin waiting for him, he was determined to overcome his second thoughts.

When he spotted the group outside the Three Broomsticks, the first thing that struck him was how normal they all looked, standing together, chatting and laughing as if nothing had changed.

Draco was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed in his trademark pose, while Blaise stood nearby, looking far more interested in the weather than in the conversation. Pansy was standing just a little farther down, her laughter carrying in the cold air, and Y/N was beside her, looking effortlessly calm, her eyes scanning the crowd.

As Theodore drew closer, Draco was the first to notice him. He straightened up and blinked in surprise. “Nott? You’re actually here?”

Theodore smiled a little awkwardly and nodded. “Yeah. Thought I’d join you lot for once.”

Draco raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised, but there was no mocking in his voice. “You’ve been a bit of a ghost lately. Didn’t think you’d show up.”

Theodore shrugged, trying to downplay his nerves. “Guess I just needed a change. Why not join the fun for once?”

Blaise, who had been watching the exchange silently, finally spoke up. “Well, well. The reclusive Theodore Nott emerges from the shadows.” His tone was teasing, but there was no real judgment behind it. Blaise knew Theodore well enough to tell when something was up.

Theodore chuckled but his gaze shifted to the young Malfoy, and his heart skipped a beat.

She looked at him with a warm stare as if she wasn't surprised to find him here. Something about how she looked made him feel like he belonged, as if his hesitancy and distance had been rewarded only for this moment.

The girl smiled, her lips curving gently as she stepped toward him. “I’m glad you came,” she said, her voice quieter than the others, but her words carried a warmth that sent a shiver through him. “We’ve missed you.”

Theodore swallowed, feeling a little embarrassed by how his chest tightened at her words. “I’ve missed you all too,” he said, his voice unexpectedly soft as he gently looked at the young Malfoy. He realized then that he hadn’t been missing just the group but the feeling of belonging with them—of being able to be himself without pretending.

Pansy, ever observant, smirked at the exchange, her sharp eyes catching the subtle way they looked at each other. “Interesting. Finally dragged him out of his cave, Malfoy?”

The girl rolled her eyes, but the smile never left her face. “Not everything’s a game, Pansy.”

“Clearly,” Pansy teased, but her voice was light, playful.

Draco, still standing nearby, was watching Theodore closely. There was a flicker of something in his eyes—curiosity, maybe—but he didn’t comment further. Instead, he clapped Theodore on the back, more out of habit than anything else. “Well, now that you’re here, don’t expect to be left out of anything. Let’s get inside and warm up.”

Theodore trailed behind Y/N as they entered the Three Broomsticks, embracing the comfort of the fire as soon as he did so. 

He looked around at the busy pub, but his focus kept returning to her. She was standing next to him, close enough that he could feel the soft brush of her sleeve against his arm.

Theodore was unsure what had changed. He had no idea how things had changed so quickly, but now they were together, surrounded by friends, and for the first time in a long time, he felt like he was exactly where he needed to be.

As they settled at a table, the usual banter started up again. Draco and Blaise were arguing about something trivial, Pansy was making her usual sarcastic comments, and Y/N was laughing quietly at it all.

But Theodore found himself watching her, how she smiled, and her eyes sparkled when she laughed. There was something so easy and effortless about her presence, something that made him feel at home.

At that moment, he realized that showing up today was the right choice. He wasn’t just there for fun; he was there because he wanted to be. And more importantly, he wanted to be there with her.

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Theodore found himself sitting alone at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall, pushing his food around without really eating. His mind is elsewhere, and his usually calm demeanor has shifted to a kind of quiet detachment. He looks pale, his eyes a little duller than usual, as though he’s carrying a heavy weight no one else can see. 

Y/N, seated at the opposite end of the table, can't help but notice. She studies him for a minute, sensing something is wrong but unsure how to approach him.

After a while, she stands up and walks over to Theodore’s side of the table, slipping into the seat next to him. He doesn’t look up at her immediately, but she can feel the tension from him.

“Hey,” she says softly, her voice gentle but firm, not wanting to startle him. “You’ve hardly touched your food.”

Theodore flinches slightly as if her voice pulled him out of some distant thought. He forces a small smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’m not really hungry,” he mutters, his tone clipped and almost dismissive.

The girl studies him closely, catching the way his fingers are gripping the edge of his plate tightly, his knuckles slightly white. She knows Theodore well enough to recognize the signs. There’s something deeper going on—something more personal than just not feeling hungry.

“It’s okay to not be okay, you know,” The girl says quietly, her voice low so only he can hear. She leans in slightly, trying to make him feel comfortable. “You don’t have to pretend everything’s fine.”

Theodore shifts uncomfortably in his seat, his gaze dropping to his hands. His heart is heavy, and the grief of losing his mother years ago still stings in ways he doesn’t often let himself feel. It’s the anniversary of her death, and he’s been trying to keep himself busy, to bury the sadness deep within him.

He’s unsure how to express this grief, especially not to anyone at Hogwarts—especially not to Y/N Malfoy, who always seems so put together.

“I’m fine,” he says quickly, but his voice wavers slightly. It’s a lie, and he knows it, but he can’t bring himself to admit it. Not here, not now.

Y/N doesn’t push, but she doesn’t back off either. She knows when to give someone space and when to offer comfort gently. 

She watches him for a moment longer, then says softly, “You don’t have to hide it, Theodore. You don’t need to be the strong, silent type all the time.”

Theodore feels a pang in his chest at her words, their raw vulnerability cutting through his carefully constructed walls. He’s always been the quiet one, the one who keeps his emotions buried. But Y/N sees right through him, making him feel exposed, almost too fragile.

“I don’t… want to burden anyone,” he admits quietly, his voice low. “I don’t want anyone to see… how much it still hurts.”

Y/N’s heart softens at his words, and she reaches out gently, placing her hand over his on the table. The gesture is simple but sincere, an unspoken offer of support. “You’re not burdening me,” she says quietly. “You don’t have to carry everything on your own, you know. You don’t have to hide it from me.”

Theodore tenses at the touch, but there’s no bitterness in it. He doesn’t pull away, but the vulnerability is too much to handle all at once. He takes a deep breath as if trying to steady himself, but his chest tightens. “It’s… hard. I don’t know how to talk about it.”

The girl squeezes his hand, her touch reassuring and firm. “I’m not asking you to talk about it if you don’t want to. But you can share what you feel whenever you’re ready.”

Theodore looks up at her, then meets her gaze for the first time since she has sat down. Her eyes are warm and understanding, and she expresses quiet support. She doesn’t expect anything from him, making the moment feel safe.

His heart beats a little faster as he realizes that Y/N isn't judging him despite how difficult this moment is. She’s offering him the space to simply be.

“I don’t know how to do this…” he murmurs, his voice trembling slightly. “I don’t know how to let people in like that.”

The girl gives him a small, understanding smile. “You don’t have to have it all figured out right now. But I’m here for you, Theodore. Whenever you’re ready.”

For a long moment, Theodore doesn’t speak. He just sits there, feeling the weight of his grief, the warmth of her hand still over his. It’s comforting, in a way he doesn’t fully understand yet. Slowly, the tightness in his chest begins to ease, though it doesn’t go away entirely. For the first time, he doesn’t feel like he has to bury everything deep down. He doesn’t have to hide.

“Thank you,” he finally says, his voice barely a whisper.

Y/N simply nods, her hand still resting over his, offering the quiet reassurance that she’ll be there for him, no matter how much he chooses to share.

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Theodore, once withdrawn and shy, now spends almost every free moment with Y/N. Maybe even more than he spends time with Draco and Blaise. 

They study together, talk about their dreams and worries, and share moments of quiet companionship. There are still times when Theodore retreats into himself, but Y/N has learned to recognize the signs. She gives him the space he needs without pushing, and when he’s ready to talk, she’s there.

Theodore leans back into the couch, his feet resting on the edge of a table, hands folded across his chest. His posture is relaxed, no longer the stiff, withdrawn figure he used to be when he first arrived at Hogwarts. Sitting beside him with her legs tucked under her, Y/N smiles as they talk about everything and nothing at all.

“You know,” The girl says, grinning mischievously, “I’ve never understood why you’re so good at Potions, but I can never get a single spell right without accidentally turning something into a pile of mush.”

Theodore laughs quietly, the sound surprisingly light. “It’s all about concentration,” he says, voice teasing but warm. “You need to focus. You’re too easily distracted.”

The girl raises an eyebrow. “Says the guy who once spilled an entire cauldron of Veritaserum because he got distracted by a book.”

Theodore chuckles at the memory, shaking his head. “I didn’t spill it because I was distracted! I just... didn’t realize the book had melted into the cauldron.”

Y/N laughs, and it’s a full, genuine laugh that fills the room. Moments like this make Theodore realize how much his friendship with her has changed him. She’s never judged him for his quirks or awkwardness; she’s simply accepted him for who he is, even if he’s sometimes a little scatterbrained.

“It’s honestly refreshing,” Y/N continues, “having a best friend who can make me laugh. You’ve got a dry sense of humor, but it works.”

Theodore smiles, but there's something more in his gaze—a soft affection. “I’m glad you think so.”

He glanced over at her. “You know, for someone who’s always so guarded, you’re surprisingly easy to talk to.”

She scoffed, but there was no bite in it. “You think so?”

He nodded, his smile faltering slightly. “Yeah. You get me, Malfoy. It’s… not something I’m used to.”

She glanced up at him. “I get you?”

Theodore’s usual air of cool detachment was replaced by something softer, something almost vulnerable. “Yeah. You do. And I get you, too. It’s…” He faltered as though struggling to find the right words. “It’s easy with you.”

“I don’t think I could have gotten through everything without you,” Theodore says, his voice quieter, more serious. “You’ve been there for me when I needed someone the most, even when you didn’t know how to help. You always know exactly when to just... listen. Or sit in silence with me.”

“I’m glad,” she said quietly, her voice soft.

They continued sitting in comfortable silence, the weight of their conversation hanging between them. There’s a brief pause, a shared understanding between them. They don’t need to say much more.

She wasn’t just the friend he had relied on for the past few months—she was the person who made him feel seen, understood, and… well, maybe more than just a friend. Theodore wasn’t sure yet.

The silence between the two friends was broken when Pansy saunters into the Slytherin dungeons, her sharp eyes darting between Y/N and Theodore as she took her place across them together with Blaise. 

"So, when's the big confession happening, hmm?" She teased. 

The young Malfoy laughed at her friend’s antics.

"What?" Theodore asks.

Pansy rolled her eyes at the response. "Come on, you two. We’ve all noticed it. You’re practically joined at the hip these days." 

 "Oh, please, Pansy. It’s just friendship." Y/N tried to convince. 

"Sure, just friendship. You two have spent nearly every waking moment together for the past year. It's definitely just friendship."

Theodore and Y/N exchange a glance, both slightly flushed but unwilling to admit anything.

Their friendship has always been easy, natural, but lately, there's been something more—something neither of them has quite figured out yet. The teasing from their friends only makes them more aware of it, but neither is quite ready to confront the possibility that it might be more than just friendship.

"Honestly, you two are impossible," Blaise muttered. 

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Theodore’s chest tightened as he watched the stranger lean in toward Y/N, his hand brushing her arm casually as he spoke. She laughed, the sound soft and familiar, but the sight of her so at ease with someone else sent a wave of jealousy surging through Theodore’s veins.

He turned away sharply, gripping the bar's edge until his knuckles turned white.

This wasn’t fair.

Y/N had every right to talk to whomever she wanted. She wasn’t his. She’d never been his. And yet, the idea of someone else taking his place in her life was unbearable.

“Someone looks like they’re about to explode,” Pansy drawled as she slid beside him, putting on her gloves. “What’s the matter, Nott? Can’t stand the competition?”

“Not now, Pansy,” he muttered, not even glancing her way.

She smirked, clearly delighted by his discomfort. “You know, Nott, for someone so clever, you’re absolutely hopeless. Honestly, how many more boys asking her out, will it take before you admit you like her?”

Theodore’s jaw tightened. “I’m not—I don’t believe in love.”

It's true.

Theodore didn’t believe in love.

He didn’t believe in feelings, in general.

Growing up without the presence of his mother, Theodore’s father needed to emphasize and demand that love doesn’t exist. And this was proven true when his own father didn’t even show up to his mother’s funeral.

“Save it,” she interrupted, waving a hand dismissively. “We all see it. You’ve been pining for months. The only person who doesn’t know is Y/N herself. Or maybe…you’re the only one unaware of it.”

His silence was answer enough.

Pansy leaned in, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “You know, if you keep standing here brooding like some tragic hero, you’re going to lose her. Maybe it’s time you did something about it.”

Theodore’s eyes flicked toward the Malfoy girl again. She was still talking to the stranger, her smile easy and genuine. He hated how natural they looked together as if there was no room for him in her world anymore.

“Do something like what?” he asked bitterly. “Interrupt their conversation and declare my undying love? That’ll go over well.”

Pansy rolled her eyes. “You’re hopeless. But fine, keep sulking. Just don’t be surprised when someone else sweeps her off her feet while you’re busy hiding in the shadows.”

With that, she slipped away, catching sight of Blaise as they headed together to meet Draco, leaving Theodore alone with his thoughts as he stared at the young Malfoy.

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The evening at the Three Broomsticks was winding down, and the company was unwinding after a few rounds of butterbeer. The warmth of the fire and the murmur of laughter filled the room, but as the clock struck later in the evening, the talk inevitably moved on to the approaching Yule Ball.

Draco, who had been taking in his drink as he listened to Pansy discuss prospective clothing options, smirked at Blaise. "So, are you intending to attend the Yule Ball this year, or are you avoiding it for some other strange reason, like you did last year?" 

Blaise rolled his eyes but didn't appear offended. "I am going, of course. I have a few possibilities. Not all of us have to scurry for a date like some people." He gave Draco a playful look, who shrugged unconcernedly.

"Right," Draco murmured, turning his attention to Theodore sitting next to his sister. "What about you, Theodore? Have you planned a date for the ball, or will you sit this one out as usual?" 

“I don’t plan on going,” Theodore said, his voice casual. “It’s not really my thing. Besides, I don’t have the energy to pretend to enjoy that sort of thing.”

Draco raised an eyebrow. “You really are a buzzkill, aren’t you? It’s one night, Theo. A chance to get dressed up and show off a little. You could at least think about it.” He glanced at his sister momentarily as if daring her to chime in.

Before Theodore could respond, he noticed Y/N, who had been quietly watching the conversation unfold, was now looking at him with a faint frown.

“What about you, little Malfoy?” Blaise asked, turning his attention to her. “You planning on going?”

The girl nodded. “I am, actually,” she said lightly, glancing at Theodore. “But Theo,” she added, her voice soft but firm, “you should reconsider. You should go. It’s your last chance to have fun, enjoy the music, and dance. You can’t just skip it because it’s ‘not your thing.’”

Theodore, who had been about to protest, looked at her. Her eyes were serious, and a kindness in her expression made something shift inside him.

He’d never thought about the Yule Ball as something he could enjoy, but Y/N was looking at him as if it was necessary as if it was important for him to go.

“I don’t know, Y/N,” he replied, his voice quieter. “It’s just not my scene. You know how I am with those things.”

“I do,” She said, her voice softening. She leaned a little closer, her hand brushing against his on the table. “But this isn’t just about going to a ball. It’s about having fun with your friends. You don’t have to have everything figured out or be the life of the party. Just go for the night. You don’t want to regret it later.”

Her words were sincere, and for a moment, Theodore felt something warm in his chest. How she looked at him, almost as if she could see through all the walls he’d built up around himself, made him reconsider.

“Come on, Theo,” Draco chimed in with a smirk. “You can’t possibly say no after Y/N’s given her stamp of approval. It’s practically an order.”

Blaise added, “You might actually have fun, you know. And who knows? Maybe someone will ask you to dance.”

Theodore snorted, though it was more out of surprise at the direction the conversation had taken than anything else. “You think I’d get asked to dance?” he said, his tone a little more teasing than usual, but his voice had a hint of self-consciousness.

“Of course,” Y/N said with a playful grin, her hand lightly resting on his. “Anyone would be lucky to have you as a dance partner.”

Her words were simple, but they made his heart race.

He didn’t know why, but hearing her say that made the idea of the ball seem less like a burden and more like something he might actually enjoy—especially if she was going to be there.

“Alright, fine,” he finally relented, glancing at the young Malfoy. “I’ll think about it. But I’m not promising I’ll enjoy it.”

“You will,” she said, her smile lighting up her face. “Trust me.”

There was a small pause as the group resumed chatting, but Theodore’s mind was no longer on the conversation. Instead, he found himself thinking about the Yule Ball in a new light.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe it could even be fun.

And, if nothing else, he’d get to spend the evening with Y/N and the rest of his friends.

He looked at her then, really looked at her, and for the first time, he understood. She wasn’t asking him to transform into someone he wasn’t. She wasn’t asking him to be the life of the party or to pretend to enjoy every aspect of the night. She was just asking him to show up. To be there with the people who mattered, to make memories that, for once, didn’t revolve around his usual reluctance to engage in things like this.

For a moment, Theodore just stared at her, the warmth of the lights flickering in her eyes. He felt that familiar tug in his chest, that sensation of something more than just friendship. But he didn’t let it show, not yet. He wasn’t ready for that conversation.

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?” he asked, his voice quieter now.

The girl smiled and shook her head. “Nope. You’re going to the ball, Theo. And you’re going to have a good time. We’ll make sure of it.”

He sighed, but the corner of his mouth lifted slightly. “Alright, fine. I’ll go. But only because you said so.”

Y/N grinned, her eyes lighting up. “I knew you’d come around.”

Blaise coughed. “Softie.” He muttered, shaking his head. 

“Shut up, Blaise.” 

He wasn’t sure what he expected to happen, but as the snow continued to fall outside, he realized that this might just be the start of something unexpected—something he wasn’t ready to let go of just yet.

Y/N had a way of making everything seem possible, and for the first time in a long while, Theodore was starting to believe it.

Blaise wasn’t wrong, though. Theodore might have had a soft spot for the young Malfoy.

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The Yule Ball was well underway, with the Great Hall sparkling beneath a canopy of floating golden stars, their gentle light reflecting off the magical ice sculptures dispersed across the hall. Students at Hogwarts moved in bunches.

The anticipation was apparent as rich, colorful dresses whirled beneath the dazzling floating candle lights. The air was filled with a subtle buzz of music, the delicate sounds of the orchestra flowing over the room, and laughing that seemed to come from everyone.

Y/N Malfoy stood near the entrance, her figure effortlessly poised in a gown of silver silk that shimmered with each movement. The dress hugged her form perfectly, a subtle tribute to her aristocratic lineage, but the soft drape of the fabric gave her an almost ethereal quality, as though she were more a figure from a painting than a living person. Her hair was styled in an elegant updo, small curls framing her face, as her eyes scanned the room.

Theodore Nott lingered near the refreshment table, quietly observing the swirling crowd. Unlike his peers, he didn’t seek the spotlight. His tailored black robes were simple but elegant. In usual Theodore fashion, the boy preferred the edges of the room, where he could avoid unnecessary chatter and instead focus on the rhythm of the night.

“You look like you’d rather be anywhere else,” The girl teased as she approached him, a faint smirk tugging at her lips.

“Not anywhere,” Theodore replied, his voice calm and steady. “Just somewhere quieter.” 

He tilted his head slightly. “And you? Surely, the Malfoy princess enjoys a night like this.”

The girl hummed in response, shrugging nonchalantly.

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Theodore continued to stand off to the side throughout the Yule Ball, his eyes drifting over the swirling crowd. The music was loud, the flickering candles cast a warm glow across the room, and the students' laughter filled the air. But in the middle of it all, his gaze was fixed on one person-Y/N.

Blaise tilted his head, his dark eyes scanning the crowd with a bored yet calculating air. “You’ve been staring at her all night, Theo,” he said smoothly, his voice low enough to avoid prying ears.

Theodore didn’t look away from where Y/N Malfoy stood, laughing lightly at Pansy's judging words directed towards Harry Potter and his unfortunate date. The girl's smile was radiant, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she exchanged playful banter with Pansy. 

Theodore felt his chest tighten as he watched her, unable to look away. The way she laughed and how her eyes lit up when she was genuinely happy. It was all so mesmerizing.

With a jolt, he realized that he hadn't just noticed how beautiful she was; he had fallen for it.

For her.

“I have not,” Theodore replied evenly, though his tone lacked conviction.

Blaise chuckled, taking a leisurely sip from his goblet. “Right. You’re just monitoring the general well-being of the crowd. Completely selfless of you.”

Theodore finally tore his gaze away, fixing Blaise with a sharp look. “What do you want me to say?”

Blaise raised a brow, a slow smirk spreading across his face. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe something like, ‘Y/N looks stunning tonight, and it’s driving me mad watching her spend time with someone else.’”

Theodore frowned, his grip tightening on his goblet. “She does look stunning,” he admitted quietly, his voice carrying a rare softness.

“Understatement of the century,” Blaise said, smirking. “Every bloke in this room has noticed, but she hasn’t noticed any of them.”

Theodore’s frown deepened. “What are you getting at, Zabini?”

Blaise sighed dramatically as though speaking to a particularly dense child. “I’m saying, Nott, that she hasn’t noticed them because she’s too busy noticing you. And instead of doing something about it, you’re standing here sulking into your drink.”

Theodore looked at him sharply, but Blaise remained unfazed, his smirk unwavering.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Theodore muttered.

“Ridiculous? Hardly.” Blaise gestured toward the Malfoy girl with his goblet. “She’s barely looked at any other boy all night. But every time she glances over here—and she has, by the way—you’re too busy brooding to notice. Not to mention how she literally turned down every boy that asked her to dance.”

Theodore glanced back at Y/N, his jaw tightening.

“She’s just…” He trailed off, struggling to find the right words.

“Perfect?” Blaise supplied. “Unattainable? Completely and utterly worth it?”

She’s a dream. 

“She’s Draco’s little sister.” Theodore shot him a withering look. “You’re enjoying this far too much.”

“Immensely,” Blaise said with a grin. “But don’t let that stop you. I’m certain our friend would be cool about it. Go on, lover boy. Do something about it before her date gets it into his head to try to get it on with her even after beyond this night.”

For a moment, Theodore didn’t move, his mind racing. Then, without a word, he set his goblet down and stepped away from Blaise.

“Finally,” Blaise muttered, shaking his head in amused disbelief as he watched Theodore cross the room.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

The music in the Great Hall slowed, shifting to a softer, more intimate melody. Couples on the dance floor moved closer, their steps in perfect harmony with the hauntingly beautiful tune. Y/N had been content lingering in the shadows of the grand room, nursing a goblet of punch when Theodore approached her.

He stood with his hands tucked into the pockets of his tailored robes, his sharp features softened by the warm candlelight.

“You’ve avoided every dance invitation tonight,” he said, his tone dry but not unkind.

The girl raised an eyebrow. “And yet here you are, about to offer one.”

“Only because I suspect you’ll say yes.” He extended a hand, his expression unreadable but his voice carrying the faintest hint of a challenge mixed with nervousness.

For a moment, Y/N hesitated. But then she placed her hand in his. “Let’s see if you can keep up, Nott.”

Theodore led her to the dance floor, his movements confident but unshowy. The girl followed his lead, their steps falling effortlessly into sync. 

“You’re surprisingly good at this,” she remarked, glancing up at him.

He smirked. “Surprisingly?”

“Well, you don’t exactly strike me as the waltzing type.”

“Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think,” Theodore replied, his tone low but playful. “I hate to dance, but I’d dance with you.”

He’s never been one for dancing—especially not in front of a crowd—but there’s something about how she looks tonight, something that makes him want to hold onto her forever and show her off to the world as his.

The two swayed to the rhythm, the world around them fading into a blur of swirling gowns and glittering lights. Theodore can’t help but notice how effortless it is to be with her. His nerves, which were there when they first started, slowly fade as he focuses on Y/N. Her laugh, her smile, the way her eyes sparkle with joy—it’s all so captivating.

Y/N glanced up at him. For a moment, the world around them—the glittering lights, the watchful eyes—faded.

"You know, for someone who didn’t want to come to the ball, you seem pretty content dancing here with me."

Theodore glances at her, a small, awkward smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He’s not one for grand events, but Y/N being here beside him makes the entire night feel less daunting. He feels out of place, but the world feels a little smaller in her presence. "It’s... not so bad. Besides, it’s not like I had a better option than being with you. You’re the most stunning person in this room."

Y/N’s heart skips a beat at his words. She’s always known there was something deeper between them, something more than friendship, but hearing him admit it in his quiet, reserved way fills her with warmth.

“You’re full of surprises, Nott. I’m glad you’re here,” she said softly.

Theodore looks down at her, his heart skipping a beat.

He’s not used to compliments or to feeling this seen by someone. There’s a warmth in her voice that he can’t ignore, and for a moment, it feels like the rest of the world has faded away.

They continued to dance, and the silence between them was comfortable now. It wasn’t until the music ended that Theodore played with the idea that maybe love does exist, especially with how Y/N Malfoy was making him feel right now.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

As the music faded, Y/N and Theodore stepped off the dance floor, their steps slowing in unison. She brushed a strand of hair from her face, still feeling the faint adrenaline buzz from the waltz.

Draco strolled over, his expression unreadable at first but softening when he saw the two of them. He was dressed impeccably, as usual, his posture relaxed and confident.

“Well, isn’t this a surprise,” Draco drawled, his lips curving into a slight grin. “You, dancing, Y/N?”

The girl rolled her eyes—this time deliberately—and crossed her arms. “Always so supportive, aren’t you, Draco?”

“Supportive, sure. But mostly curious.” He turned to Theodore with mock seriousness. “What’s your secret? She never agrees to dance with me.”

Theodore shrugged casually. “I have my ways.”

“Must be the brooding charm,” The girl quipped, earning a chuckle from both boys.

Draco smirked. “Brooding? You give him too much credit. He’s been brooding since we were eleven—it’s nothing new.”

“And you’ve been insufferable since we were five,” Theodore shot back smoothly.

“Touché,” Draco conceded, clearly amused.

The playful banter flowed easily between the three of them, the formalities of the ball forgotten. The girl leaned back against one of the stone pillars, letting the moment's warmth wash over her.

“So,” Draco said after a pause, looking between them with a raised eyebrow, “should I be concerned about this little partnership?”

Y/N rolled her eyes again, this time with a smirk. “You act like it's the first time seeing me and Theo together. And Please. Like I’d need your approval for anything.”

Theodore gave her an approving nod. “Now, that’s the Malfoy spirit.”

Draco held up his hands in mock surrender. “Fair enough. Just don’t forget who your favorite brother is.”

“You’re my only brother,” She deadpanned.

“Exactly.” Draco grinned before clapping Theodore on the shoulder. “Keep her out of trouble, yeah?”

Theodore smirked. “No promises.”

“I need another drink.” The young Malfoy declared, pushing off the pillar and brushing past them both. “You coming, Theo?” 

“I’ll meet you there.” He replied.

“Well, well, Nott,” Draco’s voice cut through the music and chatter like a knife, smooth and mocking. “Look at you. I thought you were planning on hiding away all night.”

Theodore narrowed his eyes at Draco but couldn’t help the slight smile that tugged at his lips.

Draco’s smirk widened, and with a dramatic flair, he stepped closer, leaning in as though to whisper a secret. “I’ll admit, I didn’t think you would be the one to sweep her off her feet, but—” He paused, giving Theodore a quick, mischievous look. “—now I’m curious. What exactly are your intentions with her, Nott?”

“My intentions are none of your business, Malfoy,” he said firmly, trying to keep his voice steady, though there was a faint warning tone underneath.

Draco’s smirk only grew, and he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Just remember, Nott… if you hurt her, there will be consequences.”

It wasn’t said in a threatening tone, but something in Draco’s eyes—a glint of seriousness beneath the teasing mask—made Theodore freeze.

Draco was always fiercely protective of the people he cared about, and Y/N, as his sister, was no exception.

Theodore raised an eyebrow, meeting Draco’s gaze squarely. “You’re really going to try to intimidate me over Y/N, of all people?” He tried to stay composed.

Draco chuckled, straightening up and folding his arms. “I’m just making sure you know the stakes, mate,” he said nonchalantly, though his eyes glimmered with a challenge. “You can be as charming as you like, but don’t forget who you’re dealing with.”

Theodore fought back a smile. “You always take things so seriously, Draco.”

Draco shrugged casually, but the glint in his eyes never faded. “Someone has to keep you in line.”

Before Theodore could respond, Draco gave him a quick, knowing glance and clapped him on the shoulder with an exaggerated show of camaraderie. “Don’t worry, I’ll leave you to your… affairs with my sister. Just don’t mess it up, all right?”

Theodore stared after Draco as he moved through the crowd, the playful tension still hanging in the air. His heart was still pounding slightly from the exchange.

Draco might have been joking, but his words also revealed truth. Theodore wasn’t sure how to navigate the complex feelings he had for Y/N—especially now, when it seemed like the whole world, Draco included, had an opinion on the matter.

Still, a small part of him couldn’t help but feel a little more determined. He wouldn’t let Draco’s teasing—or anyone else’s—stand in the way of what he and Y/N were building together.

As the music swelled and couples swirled around him, Theodore glanced over at Y/N from across the room. She was talking to Pansy again, her expression bright.

He wasn’t going to mess this up, not with her.

With a final glance at Draco, who was now lost in conversation with Blaise, Theodore squared his shoulders and approached Y/N.

He wasn’t going to let anything, or anyone, stop him from finally going after what he wanted.

ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

The Yule Ball had faded into the background as Theodore and Y/N found themselves alone in a quiet, secluded room. The soft crackle of the fire filled the silence as Y/N sat across from him, her expression calm, but there was an undeniable tension in the air. The kind that made everything feel more intense, more real.

Theodore’s fingers brushed against the edge of his glass, his thoughts a whirlwind. He hadn’t planned for this. He hadn’t expected to say anything at all, but now, in the quiet room, with Y/N’s gaze steady, the words that had been stuck inside him for so long seemed to burst free, unavoidable.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice quieter than he intended. He cleared his throat, trying to steady himself. “I… I need to say something.”

The girl looked at him, her brow furrowing slightly, her curiosity piqued. “What’s on your mind?”

Theodore swallowed hard, his chest tight. This was harder than anything he had ever done, but it felt like it would eat him up from the inside if he didn't say it now.

“I’ve been trying to ignore it. Trying to tell myself that it’s not a big deal,” he confessed, looking down at his hands for a moment before meeting her gaze again. “But I can’t anymore. I’ve… I’ve fallen for you, Y/N. I think I’ve been in love with you for a while now.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of truth. Theodore held his breath, waiting for her reaction. His stomach twisted with uncertainty.

What if she didn’t feel the same?

What if he had ruined everything?

The girl didn’t say anything at first. She just watched him, her expression unreadable. Her eyes were soft, though, and her lips parted as if she were about to speak but held back.

Theodore’s heart beat wildly, and his palms suddenly clammy.

“You don’t have to say anything, Y/N,” he rushed to add, his voice shaky. “I just… I needed you to know. I didn’t want to keep it hidden anymore.”

The girl’s gaze softened even more, and she took a small step toward him, closing the distance between them. The firelight reflected in her eyes, making them look even brighter.

Then, finally, she spoke, her voice low and steady.

“Theo,” she said softly, his name like a gentle caress. “I’ve known. I’ve known for a long time.”

Theodore froze, his breath catching in his throat. “What?”

Y/N smiled faintly, a kind of tenderness in her expression that made his heart ache in the best way. “I’ve known. I think I’ve always known. I just… didn’t want to rush you. I wanted you to figure it out in your own time.”

Theodore’s mind raced, processing her words.

She knew? She had known all along?

It was almost too much to take in, but simultaneously, it was like the weight in his chest lifted a little. She hadn’t pushed him away, hadn’t turned him down.

“So… you…” He trailed off, struggling to find the words. “You feel the same?”

The young Malfoy nodded, her smile softening into something more knowing. “I do. I’ve felt the same way for a while now.”

Relief flooded through Theodore, overwhelming him in the best way possible. He couldn’t help but smile back, the tension in his body melting away. He hadn’t expected it to be this easy, this… perfect.

“I didn’t know what to say,” he admitted, his voice a little more relaxed now, the uncertainty slowly fading. “I’ve never been good at this. Saying how I feel.”

“I know,” The girl said, her voice full of understanding. “But you don’t have to be perfect, Theo. You just need to be you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Theodore chuckled softly, feeling lighter than he had in ages. “I’m not sure I can be anything else.”

She reached out then, her fingers brushing against his, sending a jolt of warmth through him.

He looked at her, his heart pounding again, but this time in excitement rather than fear.

“You don’t have to,” Y/N whispered, leaning closer, her gaze never leaving his. “You’re exactly what I want.”

Without a word, he closed the gap between them, his hands reaching for her, pulling her into him. Her lips met his with a sudden urgency, a kiss that was more than just an exploration. It was a release, a culmination of everything that had been building between them for so long.

Y/N’s hands moved to his chest, fingers trembling against the fabric of his shirt as she pulled him closer, her lips parting slightly, deepening the kiss. Theodore responded without hesitation, his hands moving to her waist, drawing her against him until they were pressed so close he could feel the quick beat of her heart beneath her ribcage.

The firelight danced across their faces, casting a warm, golden glow as they kissed, the world outside this moment disappearing entirely. It was as if they were alone in the world, the only two people who mattered.

Theodore’s head swam with the feeling of her lips on his, the way her body seemed to fit perfectly against his like they had always been meant to be this way.

Y/N’s fingers slid into his hair, pulling him closer, her breath coming faster. He could feel the heat radiating off her skin, the tension between them giving way to something raw and real.

Every touch, every kiss, seemed to ignite something inside of him—something he couldn’t contain, something that had been building for months, years, even finally spilling over.

When they finally pulled away, their breaths were ragged, their faces flushed. Theodore’s chest rose and fell with each breath, his pulse racing in his ears. Y/N’s eyes were wide, her lips swollen from their kiss, and a soft smile played at the corners of her mouth.

“I’ve been waiting for this,” she said, her voice soft but full of affection. “I think we both were.”

Theodore smiled back, feeling like he had just found a piece of himself he never knew was missing. “I think I’ve always known, too,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I just had to figure it out.”

The girl chuckled lightly, her hand still resting in his. “Well, I’m glad you did. Because I’ve never been more certain of anything.”

Theodore’s heart skipped a beat. He had never felt more seen, more understood in his life. Everything that had been building inside him, all the uncertainty, the fear of rejection—suddenly, it didn’t matter. She was here with him, and that was all that mattered.

He leaned forward again, this time more slowly, savoring the moment. As their lips met again, it was different—deeper, more intense.

This time, it wasn’t just the thrill of a new kiss. It was the recognition of something real they had both been waiting for. The kiss wasn't just about passion; it was about connection, about sharing something growing between them for longer than either of them realized.

As they broke apart again, they stayed close, their foreheads resting against each other, their breathing still heavy. Theodore's hand reached her cheek, his thumb gently brushing over her skin.

"I don't want this moment to end," he whispered, his voice barely audible, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the peace that had settled over them.

Y/N's eyes met his, and she smiled softly, her fingers curling around his. "It doesn't have to end, Theo," she murmured. "We're just getting started."

And in that moment, Theodore realized that everything had changed. His soft spot for Y/N Malfoy was something deeper than he could have ever anticipated.

They had crossed a line together, but this was just the beginning.

[ohtobeleah]

Was It Over? // Jake Seresin

-> Epilogue: Part One [Boulevard of Broken Dreams]

Summary: You received a call you and Bradley Bradshaw have been waiting on for what felt like a decade. Jakes mother causes a scene as worry consumes you. And does Jake want the very thing that put him in the hospital in the first place?

Warnings: Jake Seresin Whump. Mentions of Religion. F!reader x Jake Seresin. Angst, Mother-in-law issues. F-18 crash. Bad Medical representation.

Word Count: 6.2k

Author Note: EEEPPPPP we're almost there. this is the chapter EVERYONE has been waiting for. Just what the hell is going on! Please don't forget to let me know what you think.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

December 23rd 

Your genetic makeup, the genes that you inherit from your parents, determines who you are biologically. They’re your blueprint so to speak. Everything from your eye colour to your height to your laugh. Even some diseases like asthma, diabetes, and various cancers. 

But who you are at the core of it all goes far beyond your genetic makeup. Who you really are is the result of many, many things: How you deal with fear. Who you surround yourself with. And how you show up when it matters most. 

The sea breeze was a gentle reminder of how quickly life could change in the blink of an eye. As you walked along the sand with small, barely there waves lapping at your ankles, the sight of families running after beach umbrellas and holding down sandy towels after the sudden gust of wind came through and caused a disturbance, really made you smile. Smiles were a treasure that was few and far between. It had been for months. 

The somewhat sunny day was shrouded in the unknown. Chronic winds continued to wreak havoc on unsuspecting families just trying to enjoy their weekend. A storm was brewing off the coast. But for you, something much more life-altering was wreaking havoc. Something all-encompassing and certifiably depressing was eating away at your soul. 

Your boyfriend and the love of your life had been severely injured in a work accident just over two months ago. His mother is certifiably insane and clearly doesn’t like you even existing on the same planet as her son… and his best friend hasn’t left you alone in what felt like a century. 

But who were you to compare tragedies on this fine, sunny day? 

“There you are!” The second you heard that agitating, grading voice, you rolled your eyes so hard you could have fallen into the shallows. The flightless bird you knew as Bradley Bradshaw was racing after you, making his presence known along the shore as he ran to catch up. “God, you had me worried for a second there. I was talking to Sue for like five seconds and you were just gone.” 

“Some bodyguard you are,” you huffed as Bradley finally caught up to you. It wasn’t that you didn't like Rooster, it was more about the fact he felt obligated to keep an eye on you given the circumstances. “How is Sue anyway?” 

“Uh–” Bradley looked back over his shoulder hesitantly to see the woman he’d been dating for the last few weeks walking away. “I don’t think we'll be seeing Sue much anymore.” It was all the explanation you needed. And if you were to be completely honest you didn’t blame the women. Who wants to fight for attention with a man whose sole responsibility these days was to keep his best friend's unborn children safe? 

“You should be paying more attention to the women you’re trying to sleep with you know,” you replied as you kept walking down the pristine beach. The place that had become a home away from home. “I’ve told you, I don’t need a babysitter. We’re good, I promise.” 

It had been an unspoken understanding since meeting Jake’s wingman that Rooster would look after you if anything were ever to happen to Jake. It went both ways for the two aviators from hell. Although at times the pair couldn’t be in the same room as one another without starting World War Three, it was a given that they would always be there for the other’s loved ones. It was brotherhood in its finest and rawest form. 

But it was driving you mad. 

“Jake wouldn’t–” Bradley tried to explain, but you’d heard this explanation too many times by this point. So much so you could finish Rooster’s sentence for him. 

“‘Jake wouldn’t forgive you if something were to happen to me’, I know I know,” you huffed again. Your right hand came down to rest across your growing bump. Two little souls were currently using your internal system as their personal development grove. Two little Seresin babies that were as unexpected as they were blessed— or at least, to you. “But you– for as much as I appreciate everything you have and will continue to do for us Rooster– are driving me insane.” 

“Too bad,” couldn’t help but laugh as he pulled you into his side. His arm slung over your shoulders before you could even protest his actions. “You’re Jake’s girl and Jake’s not here so therefore I gotta do what I gotta do and that my dear Y/n–” Bradley paused for a second before he continued just like the small waves that lapped at your ankles. Fear threatened to overcome Rooster’s nervous system. Yet, fending off fight or flight mode, he continued. Playing the role you needed him to be: Caregiver brick wall extraordinaire. “---Is to be right here, by your side, until that idiot wakes up.” 

They say time heals most wounds. And for the majority of people that saying is pretty spot on. But for Jake Seresin, that hadn’t been the case. Jake had been in an induced coma for weeks after his near-death accident. The experienced aviator was no match for the panic attack that took him hostage mid-training exercise. His body currently lay battered, burnt and bruised in the Miramar Base Hospital in the intensive care unit. His soul remained trapped inside the mind you sometimes hated to love and loved to hate. 

And when Doctors tried to wake him from the state they’d put him into in order to heal…he didn’t wake up. 

That was back in November…It was now approaching Christmas Day and still, there was no sign of Jake waking from his coma. He’d battled and fought what seemed like everything the world could throw at him: Broken bones. Third-degree burns. A swollen brain. Organ damage. Pneumonia. You name it and Jake had battled it. 

He was a fighter. Someone who was going to fight until he had nothing left. Doctors assured you there was brain activity. A good indication of a recovery.

But when he would wake was entirely up to him…

“Some idiot huh?” you teased playfully at your boyfriend’s expense. But the reality of the situation was that with every passing day, with every complication or turn of events, you missed Jake more and more. “He’s coming out the other side of the phenomena though, which is a good sign.” 

Bradley walked by your side as the two of you debriefed about what the day would bring. First, you needed to shower and change into something that wasn’t kissed by the salty air of the beach you liked to walk along every morning. It helped you clear your head from all the noise. Since Jake’s accident, your head hadn’t been quiet. Voices echoed all day long inside your mind about what you could be doing better, more of. What you could have done differently.

Sometimes those voices would grow louder and stronger the longer you tried to avoid them. However, averting your gaze and pretending the voices didn’t exist was a harder task than first thought…especially when the voices that escaped your mind were coming from Jake’s mother. 

That self-proclaimed holier than thou mother fu—

Next, you needed to eat something. You hadn’t had much of an appetite your entire pregnancy. Bradley liked to think it was because of the additional stress Jake’s hospitalisation had caused. You knew he’d say something if you didn’t at least try to consume something of substance. 

And finally, to you, the most important part of the list of to-do’s, was to get over to Miramar Base Hospital and see the man who’d captivated your entire heart. The goal every day besides growing two human lives was to be by Jake's side. 

Even if at the end of the day the result of all this turmoil and trauma was a breakup you knew his mother was already actively praying for, you’d still be able to say you weren’t the one who walked away. 

“Come on,” Bradley gently placed his arm around your shoulders. “Let’s get outta here. I’m sure Jake’s waiting for us.”

“His mother will be there,” you said without hesitation. There was a frustrated sadness in your voice. A longing for privacy. A declaration for peace. You knew Bradley was aware of the hostile relationship between the two of you, he'd been present for a few altercations. But you also knew he was right and Jake would want you there if you could be.  And it was a could-be day. For both you and Rooster. “I was thinking maybe we could go a little later in the day, give her some time alone–”

“Y/n?” 

Yeah?” You knew what was coming, it felt like the two of you had had this same exact conversation every day for the past four weeks. 

“You’re the mother of Jake’s soon-to-be twins. He’d want you there more than Janise.” 

“It’s Janeen, Roo,” you grinned to yourself as you looked down at your growing bump with a loving hand resting over your belly button. “And Hell would probably freeze over before she realises that.” 

“I thought you weren’t a religious person?” Rooster frowned momentarily as he searched his brain for any conversational remarks he may have missed in passing that would have led him to forget your religious values. He wasn’t a God-loving man himself, but there had to be something out there, right?

“I’m not.” You had never followed a religion or its practices, but the longer the love of your life remained in a coma after sustaining life-threatening injuries, the more you were open to whatever religious being extended a helping hand first. Including but not limited to Satan. You’d sell your soul in a heartbreak to bring Jake back. “But a girl can dream, can’t she?” 

Your non-religious self-awareness was the deciding factor when it came to Janeen not accepting you. Ever since Jake had brought you home to his parents one winter break back in your college days, you knew it was a battle not worth fighting. 

You were the girl who got away. The rogue agent. The true crime writer with an appetite for knowledge and literature. Jake was the aspiring college football star turned Naval Aviator. 

Jake broke it off in the spring before he went to basic. You wanted roots and stability he at the time couldn’t offer. He was off to see the world and the world would be his oyster. You couldn’t stand in the way of that no matter how much you believed Jake Seresin was the one for you. 

You knew Janeen was over the moon with joy and delight that her precious boy had come home to his faith and exiled the woman who was leading him down a road of treacherous sin. 

Get the fuck outta here. 

It wasn’t until about a year or so ago that you and Jake reconnected after he’d come back from a mission that had him staring death right in the face and questioning what he had to look back on. 

All he saw was you in that library at college smiling across at him while explaining that Christmas was fake. Something his mother would have burnt him at the stake for believing. 

So, Jake called. And like a love-sick loser, you came running from across the country. Rhode Island was your home, but wherever Jake Seresin was in the world was where your heart would be. 

“I bet she cries herself to sleep at night more over the fact you and Hangman are having children out of wedlock than she cries over the fact he nearly died,” Bradley growled. 

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” you replied as a gust of wind picked up a beach umbrella in the distance. “I’m something straight out of the book of the damned, Bradshaw. The idea of us having a child together, let alone twins, took twenty years off her life.” 

“Jake would have loved to see her face when you told her,” Bradley chuckled. Then he cleared his throat and did his best to steer the conversation back on track. “We still have to go to the hospital.”

Reluctantly, you agreed. “Fine, but you’re taking me to get a muffin from Bells Bakery first,” you said all the while Rooster rolled his eyes. You knew he couldn’t say no. How do you say no to a pregnant lady who just wants a sweet little treat before spending hours in the same room as your comatose boyfriend and his overbearingly religious mother? You don’t. You don’t say no, you simply nod in agreement. 

*************************

Every disease has its unique course it takes in the body when left untreated. The process begins with exposure to a root cause that sends a ripple effect throughout the body. The disease then progresses, ultimately resolving in one of three possible outcomes…

You get better, you stay chronically ill, or you die. 

The weather had taken a drastic turn since you and Rooster left the beach earlier that morning. The slightly overcast and windy day brought in a nice north-easterly storm. Rain was the only thing that filled the silence as you sat waiting patiently. You caught yourself thinking of what you’d give to hear Jake’s voice before the new year. 

The carefully cultivated interior design of Bradley’s Bronco was something straight out of every single bachelor’s wet dream. This car was what you expected the inside of his soul to look like. And if you were to ever become anything like Jake’s Mother, you’d think this car would be Bradley’s version of a perfect heaven. 

Then, like a premonition, your phone rang, splitting the quiet like lightning through a dark sky. 

"Hi, Y/n,” Doctor Hughes sounded rather cheerful as you sat in the passenger seat of Bradley’s Bronco. 

“It appears that our dear friend is waking up," his voice was urgent but steady. For a moment, your mind stumbles, caught between disbelief and hope. Then you’re moving — grabbing keys, kicking on your sandals, heart pounding louder than an engine roaring to life.

“Rooster?” you whispered as you clambered out of the parked Bronco. The curb hated to see a Bradshaw coming. “I’ll be there as soon as I can!” You awkwardly spoke into your phone before hanging up without hesitation. There was no time to waste on small talk. Jake was waking up. 

The world outside blurred into streaks of light and shadow as you walked as fast as you could, each passing second stretched thin by desperation. Memories flashed — hospital visits, whispered promises, tear-soaked prayers, or whatever bullshit Jake’s mother insisted on mumbling. 

“Rooster!?” you yelled as panic, fear, and anxiety overcame your nervous system. “Bradshaw?” you yelled once more as you entered the small locally owned bakery..

“Hey, what’s wrong? I just ordered a coffee to go and your apple cinnamon muffin.,” Rooster could tell by the look on your face and how sickly you looked that something had happened. “Is the Bronco okay?” 

The fact that was the first thing his mind jumped to angered you to no end. “Yes, the fucking Bronco is fine, you idiot,” you sighed as your belly felt heavy with two Seresin children, a nervous shit, and impending vomit. “Jake’s waking up.”

“No way, who called?” Bradley kicked into fifth gear before your eyes as he ushered you out of the cafe without his coffee or your muffin. 

“Rooster, our order?” you protested as he barrelled out of the cafe with your shoulders in his hands. “Hold up!” 

“We gotta go, you wanna be there when he wakes up, don’t you?” Rooster asked, thinking the answer you’d give him would be a straight-up “yes”. There shouldn’t have been any other answer. But the longer you stood still not answering, Bradley knew something was eating away at you. “Y/n, why are you being weird about this? He’s okay, everything’s gonna be alright.” 

“What if he doesn’t want this?” your eyes welled with tears in the middle of the walkway. “What if he doesn’t want me? What if…what if he doesn’t want the ki–our kids?” 

Surgical intervention doesn’t always work when it comes to disease. Sometimes, despite best efforts, the disease wins. It takes over our cells one-by-one…until the damage can no longer be reversed. When that happens, all you can do is take the loss and move on. But when you can change the course of someone’s disease, you can change the course of their life. It’s enough to make you want to come back for more. 

“Oh, Y/n, no,” Bradley cooed as he drew you in for a much-needed hug. “Jake’s a lot of things, and he’s done a lot of stupid things, but giving you up all those years ago was his biggest mistake,” Rooster reminded you as the tears you cried stained his T-shirt. Your face was buried in his chest. A chest that had soaked up far too many of your tears these last few weeks. “I know there’s a lot of unknowns, but if there’s one thing I know for sure it’s that Jake’s never gonna let you guys go. I promise you.”

“He didn’t want the baby before he–” You couldn’t finish your sentence without breaking out into an all-out wail. Bradley held you tighter than he ever had before. He didn’t know what you hadn’t told him. And what you hadn’t told him was the whole truth…

The whole truth was that Jake’s accident had been your fault. Or so it felt like it. 

“Hey, hey, you’re good,” Rooster tried his best to soothe your soul all the while the lady who’d taken his order before kindly brought it out. He was sure to thank her silently over your shoulder as she placed the muffin in its brown paper bag and his takeaway coffee on the bench. “Whatever happened before all this, I’m sure it’s gonna work out. Jake loves you so much,” Rooster beamed as he rubbed your back. “He’s not letting you or these kiddos go.” 

**********************

As the Bronco sped down the rain-slick streets, tires hissing against the wet pavement, Bradley’s hands gripped the steering wheel as tight as possible. His knuckles were white with tension. You sat anxiously in the passenger seat, phone clenched tightly in your hands, replaying the call from Dr. Hughes in your mind over and over again like a broken Rolexes that held only one memory. 

"It appears that our dear friend is waking up,” Jensen Hughes, Jake’s primary doctor who had been with him since the first day he was brought into the hospital, had said. The words echoed in your head, filling your mind, body, and soul with equal parts hope and fear.

"We’re almost there," Bradley muttered, more to himself than to you. His jaw was set, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. His best friend was waking up from a coma he never really thought he’d come out of. He’d been looking after you and his unborn children since the accident. Jake had missed so much and nothing all at the same time. 

"He’s strong. He’s been fighting this whole time." You reached over, resting a hand on his arm. Bradley nodded in return but didn’t speak. The memories of countless nights spent at Jake’s bedside haunted you both. Each mile seemed endless, stretched by the weight of anticipation.

The hospital's glowing sign finally appeared through the rain-streaked windshield. Bradley exhaled sharply, parking the car with a jerky halt. Without another word, you both dashed toward the entrance, hearts pounding, ready to see Jake — ready to hope again. 

**********************

The elevator doors opened with a subdued ding as you and Rooster stepped into the hushed hospital hallway. The dim overhead lights cast a pale glow, reflecting off the sterile white walls. Neither of you spoke as you walked toward Jake’s room. Both too anxious to say anything that could jeopardise this significant moment in Jake’s recovery. 

As you approached the familiar door, you hesitated. Your breath hitched in your throat. Bradley gently squeezed your hand, grounding you in the moment. You felt like you were going to be sick. Your twins pressed on every vital organ they had shoved to whatever side they could to make room for themselves. Here you were, Jake Seresin’s pregnant girlfriend, about to see him awake for the first time in what felt like a decade. Rounding the final corner, you saw the familiar door, slightly ajar, light spilling into the hallway. For a moment, neither of you moved, overwhelmed by hope and fear intertwined.

"We’re here," Bradley whispered, his voice steady though his eyes betrayed the weight of his worry.

As you pushed the door open, you were met with the soft beeping of the heart monitor and the steady whoosh of the ventilator. Jake lay still, his face pale but peaceful, lost in the depths of his coma. His mind was a world away, carried off into the subconscious. His body was the only remaining evidence to suggest he was still with you. 

Your throat tightened, tears threatening to spill as you stepped closer. Why were you expecting him to be awake and alert? Wishing thinking once again overcomplicated your usually realistic outlook on how things worked in this world. Perhaps it had been the way Doctor Hughes spoke to you on the phone. Or maybe it was the pregnancy hormones that allowed for more hopeful endings. Either way, neither explanation added up to the expectation you had set. 

"Hey, Jake... it’s us," you whispered, voice trembling. Bradley pulled a chair close and ushered you to sit beside the bed. 

"We’re not going anywhere," he said firmly. "You hear me? We’re right here." Resting a hand on Jake’s forearm, Rooster was quick to let his wingman know he was there. The room remained silent except for the rhythmic beeping, but neither of you moved, holding onto hope with every passing second. 

“We heard what you’ve been up to while we’ve been gone, baby,” you cooed softly as you stroked Jake’s cheek gently, taking in the sight of his peacefully unaware self. “And we don’t plan on going anywhere until we get to see those beautiful eyes of yours.” 

“What’s going on here?” The familiar voice made your heart sink into your stomach as you tried to get as comfortable as you could in the world’s most uncomfortable hospital chair. Janeen stood in the doorway with a fresh coffee from the cafe downstairs in her aging hand. Her nails, manicured to perfection, clutched around the paper cup so much so that you swore the scolding hot liquid would burst through the weakened structure. “Did something happen? Why the urgency to not go anywhere?” 

“Did–” you paused for a second as you allowed yourself to sink a little further into your chair with a protective hand strewn across your ever-growing baby bump. “Did anyone call you?” 

“Why would anyone call me when I’m already here, silly girl.” Janeen scoffed as she walked further into Jake’s room. A room that had been his for weeks. A room that your mother had helped you decorate with Christmas lights and decorations as the season approached with every passing day. A bleak, barren hospital room was no place for a soul full of such joy and fun and high-octane energy. Jake deserved more than white walls and sterile floors. 

“Right, my bad for asking,” you sighed as Rooster rolled his eyes discreetly and tried to hide his disdain for his best friend’s mother. A mother he knew Jake wasn’t so fond of either. Especially when it came to you. 

“Jane!” Rooster beamed as he broke the tension. “Long time no see. How long has it been?” Bradley smiled as he shot you a cheeky look of mischief. This was who Rooster was at his very core. A shit-stirring moustache-having gold star kid. The best there was. He’d been a rock for you during this whole ordeal. There had never been a moment these past few months where you hadn’t been able to cry on Rooster’s shoulder or vent to him in full confidence that everything you said would stay with him and only him. 

“I saw you yesterday, son,” Janeen replied sternly, not a single hint of amusement in her tone. Yet, Rooster continued with his antics. He knew well enough by now to know if he kept going, Janeen would cut you some slack. Rooster had been an on-and-off fixture in the Seresin household for years. Ever since Jake and Bradley met in the academy. And boy did Janeen Seresin have a soft spot for the man who grew up without parents or any sort of guiding light. She saw real potential in the Bradshaw kid. If he just applied himself to God, he could be one of his finest soldiers. 

“Really? I’d never forget seeing you! Are you sure it was yesterday? I heard dementia is kinda contagious in these sorts of environments,” Bradley grinned as he pulled the shorter, aging woman with that signature older mother smell into him for a hug. He was sure to send you a wink over her head. 

You had to stuff the boisterous laugh that threatened to spill from your mouth right back down into the depths of your stomach before World War Three could erupt right here in Jake’s hospital room. To be perfectly honest though, you wouldn’t be opposed to that diagnosis. Perhaps then you’d have somewhat of a chance at developing some sort of relationship with the grandmother of your children. Even if each and every day brought a new personality and memory bank. Oh, a girl could dream. 

“Y/n, be a dear and get me a chair will you?” If you weren’t already sitting down, you would have fallen over with shock. 

“Oh, I can do that,” Bradley quickly jumped into action, not wanting you to get up. “I’ll go get you one, I’ll be right back.” He grinned at Janeen before sending you a worrying look of concern. A look that didn’t necessarily look the best on him. “Don’t–just don’t kill each other while I’m gone, alright?” 

“Scouts honour,” you held your hand up as if you were swearing on the bible. Something you’d never actually do. But as Janeen looked over at where you were sitting, she nodded in agreement. 

“Right, I’ll be right back,” Bradley groaned hesitantly as he left the room. Leaving an unconscious and comatose Jake to fend for himself. “Sorry pal, she’s your mother,” he mumbled to himself as he shook his head and continued out of sight. The second Rooster was gone…it was on for young and old. 

“I’ve organised a paternity test for when you have the babies–” Janeen informed you like it wasn’t the worst insult you’d ever heard.  

“Excuse me?” you replied rather harshly as you sat up in your chair. In what world would these not be Jake’s children? How was this happening right now? How was she doing this when Jake was slowly waking up from his endless sleep? 

“You heard me,” Jeneen smirked. “I need to protect my son,” For a woman who preached about being God’s seeing eye, she really was doing the devil’s work. 

“Your son should have listened in sex-ed a little more.” You knew even the mention of sex would have Janeen’s skin crawling. Sex out of wedlock! How dare you, how would you ever be cleansed of your sins? “Are you being serious right now Janeen?” 

“I almost lost him once!” Jake’s mother raised her voice as she stepped closer to his bedside, taking in the sight of her grown, adult child. “I’m not losing him again and certainly not to some wannabe writer who wants to live off my son’s achievements.” 

“Almost doesn’t matter because almost never happened,” you made sure to say before you went on to unleash a declaration of war against your not-so-mother-in-law. “But I can guarantee if you try and destroy this family before it has a chance to grow, so help whatever God you believe in bitch…I’ll burn your entire life to the ground and smile when I watch the millions of dollars you put into that ranch burn too.”  

“You vindictive girl.” Janeen had nothing else to say from the other side of Jake’s hospital bed. 

“Don’t threaten my family and I won’t threaten yours.” It was the only warning you were ever going to give. 

“He’s my son!” Janeen shouted as Bradley made his wake back down the hall with a chair in hand. 

“And he’s my hu–” 

You couldn’t finish your sentence. With so many hormones and emotions coursing through your veins, you slipped. Jake wasn’t your husband. He wasn’t your fiance. He was your boyfriend. And for as much as you wanted to marry the man lying in that hospital bed after nearly losing his life, you knew that question was far from being asked. If it were ever to be asked. Jake Seresin had grown up watching his parents hate each other…he’d made it clear marriage was something he wasn’t interested in. Why would he be when he spent his childhood listening to his mother beg his father to fix some stupid faucet that never did get fixed? 

Why would Jake ever be interested in marriage when he could remember the intervention his grandfather gave his dad at their wedding, something about it wasn’t too late to back out. Hell, why would Jake be interested in marriage when he watched his father fall out of love so hard with his mother that she never really clued him in on her battle with breast cancer? Jake grew up under the guidance of God and his almighty word…

But the way his father had treated his mother throughout Jake’s life had truly left a sour taste in his mouth. And if Jake, through biological design, was anything like his dad…he was never going to put himself in a position where he could emulate any sort of resemblance to his father. 

Trauma am I right? (He’d told you so much about his childhood.) 

“Honey, you’re nothing more than an incubator,” Janeen hissed with a wicked smirk plastered across her face. “He’s my son, and my son knows better than to allow himself to stoop as low as ending up with someone like you.” 

“I thought I told you two not to kill each other?” Rooster tried to intervene as he placed the chair down beside where Janeen stood. He’s never seen you look so worked up. So angry. So hurt. 

“Janeen.” You took a deep breath in and closed your eyes. “When I have these children, Jake’s children, if I have it my way you will never see them. You will never get to know them do you hear me? No God or religion or wackadoodle fucking beliefs you have will ever help you have a relationship with my children because if you can’t look me in the fucking eye and see what your son sees in me then I’m not entertaining any sort of relationship with you.” 

“If they’re really my grandbabies then you can’t keep them from seeing their family–” 

“She’s their mother, Jane, I don’t think you have much say in the matter,” Rooster sided with you as politely as he could. He wasn’t going to be the one to point out that Jake's fingers were twitching either. 

“Better start praying really hard Janeen,” you chuckled, knowing that although you didn’t win this battle, you’d win the war. “Maybe Rooster will bring back a pillow for your knees,” you teased, a little out of line but it was so worth the look of horror on her face. “You’ll be on them for a hell of a long time.” 

**********************

The roar of twin afterburners pierced the sky as Jake pushed his F-18 Super Hornet through a steep climb. The clear blue expanse stretched endlessly above, the ground a distant memory. This was his element—a place where skill and instinct defined survival. Still, the only thing on his mind when he should have been focusing on controlling a multimillion-dollar piece of military equipment was you. You were pregnant. Jake was going to be a father. 

He should have listened to you when you said the two of you could talk about it after he got home from work. He never should have pressed you for more information. But Jake had and the second the words came out of your mouth, he heard nothing else after the words “I’m pregnant Jake–we’re gonna have a baby.” 

He wasn’t ready to be a dad. A father. Being a dad was the last thing Jake thought he should ever be. He wasn’t raised to procreate. He shouldn’t be responsible for another human being. If Jake was even an ounce like his own father, that kid, that poor fetus growing inside you as he raced through the sky, was about to have one hell of a childhood. It wasn’t even just having a baby that terrified him. How was Jake meant to teach this kid right from wrong when he was still learning that himself? 

“What if I told you that I wasn’t sure if I wanted kids, but I want you?” Jake knew the second that the question left his lips…that it hadn’t come out the way it should have. But the reality was he had said it, and the look in your hopeful eyes quickly shattered and was replaced with a reluctance to continue with the conversation. 

Self-doubt radiated off Jake like his life force was fading. Today's training was a high-intensity combat simulation over the rugged terrain of Redstone Valley. Jake and Rooster were executing advanced dogfighting maneuvers against an elite training squadron. Every turn, every roll, every burst of speed was a calculated dance of power and precision.

"Bandit on your six!" Bradshaw’s urgent voice crackled through Jake's headset. 

His wingman had questioned him earlier in the day about what had him so uptight. Jake hadn’t been himself today, he knew that much for sure. But that was because he couldn’t stop thinking about you and the very fact you were pregnant with his child. A child created out of love and endless passion. But that wasn’t enough to make Jake want to be a father after being so sure for so many of his adult years that he wasn’t supposed to be a father. “Hangman! Get your arse into gear man!” 

Jake yanked the stick hard left, pulling into a sharp barrel roll. The G-forces slammed him into his seat as he broke away, narrowly avoiding the pursuing jet's simulated missile lock. His pulse raced, his adrenaline surged as his heart beat against his cheat so hard he swore he was having a heart attack… 

Suddenly, the cockpit warning system blared—a mechanical shriek of impending doom. "ENGINE FAILURE—LEFT ENGINE!" flashed across the Heads-Up Display.

"Mayday, mayday, this is Viper One, experiencing critical engine failure. Attempting emergency procedures," Jake radioed, his voice steady despite the rising tension. The heart attack he swore he was having was a full-blown panic attack. Jake couldn’t catch his breath long enough to maintain focus. “Fuck, Rooster! I’m going down! Mayday–mayday!” Children’s laughter filled the cockpit as Jake spiralled out of control. 

“JAKE! EJECT EJECT EJECT!” Bradley shouted frantically through the coms. He watched on in pure horror as one of the best aviators he knew plummeted to earth without much control. “HANGMAN EJECT!” 

“Tell Y/n I love her–” was the last communication that Bradley received before Jake frantically gave up his battle with the controls to pull his chute. 

Much like Rooster’s late father, Jake’s emergency exit hadn’t gone according to plan. The roar of the F-18's engines screamed in Jake's ears as the warning lights flashed across the cockpit. Smoke billowed from the right engine, as his aircraft trembled violently. 

As Jake pulled his emergency chute, he was propelled into the sky as his F-18 was engulfed in flames so hot the heat melted his uniform into his skin. If he’d waited even one second more he would have been a goner. The emergency exit did little to stop the dramatic fall from grace Jake was experiencing. He plummeted unconscious from the sky towards the burning pile of rubble that was, just a few seconds ago, his Super Hornet. 

The ground felt like solid concrete as Jake slammed into the side of the valley, bones shattered on impact as Rooster watched on in utter agony. His helmet did little to cushion the impact, although that was its intended purpose. Emergency services had already been sent out to Jake’s last known location… but there was little that could be done for Jake as he lay in a twisted pile of his emergency parachute. Blood stained his flight suit as his body began to shut down.

He was dying, but the laughter of children filled the silence like sunlight filtering through leaves—light, spontaneous, and full of love. 

**********************

Tags: @blindedbythelightt @starset21 @tayl0rhuynh @marvelogic @itsmytimetoodream

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[bestboiraditz]

I was watching some old clips of Raditz and I realized something interesting about this characterization. Yes, Raditz is immediately interesting because he's Goku's older brother, but he's made even MORE interesting in my opinion thanks to the brief characterization he's allowed to have.

Take his first lines to Goku:

He doesn't immediately berate him for his failure to purge the planet, he takes a moment to muse on how much Goku has grown and how he looks just like their father Bardock. Keep in mind, Bardock wasn't even a spark in Toriyama's mind, so for him to have Raditz say this when he's supposed to be a throwaway villain shows an unusual level of fondness for family, especially considering what we later learn about Saiyans

Raditz, upon realizing Goku doesn't remember him, isn't just annoyed that Goku forgot his mission, but seems distraught that his little brother doesn't remember him.

It's a small detail, but again, cements that Raditz shows an unusual level of attachment to family bonds, especially for a Sayain.

And then (and this is something important to keep in mind) he declares that he will find a way to recover his little brother's memories because Goku is NEEDED.

His priority isn't to get the planet purged or punish Goku for failing, it's to regain the only biological bond he has left, however little of it there may be.

I find it interesting Toriyama wrote this piece of dialogue. It just seems odd he would write such layered dialogue to characterize a villain he always intended to kill off ASAP. I guess it was to play into the whole "subverting the brother trope" but still, it doesn't make the characterization any less interesting

When Raditz tells Goku how their planet was destroyed and how everyone died, he AGAIN emphasizes that this means their parents died too.

Again, Raditz really seems to put value on his family. Note he says PARENTS not just father. Even Vegeta, for as long as we've gotten to know him, never talks about his father King Vegeta that much (if at all? He's thought about him, but not really talked about him) I find Goku's reaction interesting too, as if deep inside, despite not remembering Bardock and Gine, his heart still feels the pain of losing them. (Could it be possible Raditz noticed his reaction and took that as a sign that Goku felt the bond too, hence his following actions?)

Like @masakoxtra said, Bardock's line seems to be unusually empathetic for Saiyans. (He talks about it at 3:30)

Even Raditz, despite living his whole life under Frieza's boot and submitting to the bullying and callousness of Vegeta and Nappa and hardening his heart because of it, hasn't completely lost his sense of empathy, it's part of his nature albeit incredibly suppressed.

Raditz then has an unusually distressed response when he realizes Goku doesn't have a tail.

He doesn't mock him for losing it or immediately gets disgusted by his weakness, he is outright horrified and then gets mad at Goku for letting others just remove his tail (From Raditz's perspective, It would be like if Goku just let his arm get cut off to fit in with a race of one-armed aliens).

For Raditz, he views it as a form of betrayal, not just of his race, but the idea that his own brother would rather pass as a lowly earthling than embrace his own heritage (family being something Raditz clearly values) really gets to Raditz on an emotional level.

Now that I think about it, Raditz kinda goes through 4 out of 5 of the stages of grief for the brief time he's alive.

His first reaction is denial that Goku had forgot him and accepted life on earth, then anger that he would rather live as an earthling than be with his Saiyan kin, and then he starts the bargaining phase, trying to entice Goku with the idea of fighting saying that he's a Saiyan and it's in his blood.

When that bargaining doesn't work, he resorts to a different form of bargaining.

Blackmail.

Raditz steals Gohan trying to force Goku to join him. He tells Goku to kill 100 humans by tomorrow as proof of his submission, but pay attention to the wording:

Raditz says "when you decide to join us, and you WILL decide to" that's how much confidence he has in Goku's devotion towards his son EVEN THOUGH Goku's a Saiyan.

Raditz doesn't have a shadow of a doubt that Goku will do everything in his power to protect his son, even if he is a weak crybaby. Saiyans don't typically care much for their kin as shown in several flashback material later on (in fact it's later explained that they'll completely disown and abandon babies that are too weak to be considered useful. They have a very Spartan-esque society).

But Raditz knows he can use Gohan as leverage because Raditz actually understands emotional connections between family members, something he would've likely valued all the more being considered weak himself.

A lot of times people are able to use emotional manipulation because they either understand or were a victim of similar manipulation.

He then warns Goku that he might as well comply because everyone is going to die anyway, the earth being scheduled for purging. He hammers home the point that Goku's defiance is pointless and he really doesn't have a choice anyway so he may as well submit.

But what Raditz is doing here is almost an act of compassion (for a Saiyan). The way he sees it, Goku will die if he doesn't comply, so joining them is the only way he'll be able to survive. If he didn't care about Goku's life, why warn him? Why give him a chance to prove himself?

In fact, why would Raditz need Goku to prove himself when he was willing to take him without that before?

This is just an idea, but could it be...because of his scouter?

Remember, his scouter was open the entire time so Vegeta and Nappa are listening in. If Vegeta was listening it, after hearing about Goku's weak power level and his defiance and kind-nature, Raditz probably knew Vegeta might just dispose of Goku when they returned, considering him a disgrace to the Saiyan race. So Raditz has to have Goku prove himself by killing a bunch of humans to show Vegeta he's worth keeping alive.

It's horrific in Goku's eyes, but to Raditz, the lives of a few humans is inconsequential compared to his brother. This again is why Raditz says Goku has no choice, Vegeta won't give them a choice.

This also might be desperation on Raditz's part. If we are to consider the opening of Dragonball Z: Kakarot canon, Vegeta and Nappa mock him, Nappa going as far as to declare it's why he's called "Raditz the Runt", apparently a knickname he's saddled with in the Frieza force.

Raditz, instead of responding angrily or protesting as most Saiyans would, bows his head and pathetically apologizes, promising things will be different next time, showing that not only is this bullying common, but Raditz has just accepted it at this point. The way Raditz treats Goku when meeting him may stem from this treatment, he's trying to sway his brother the only way he's seen, through brute force and intimidation.

But Vegeta, getting sick of Raditz's weakness, promises to kill him if he screws up again, and if Vegeta promises death, you know it's coming. Raditz, panicking as his self-preservation instincts kick in, mentions his brother, saying he can help make things easier, but really Raditz just doesn't want Vegeta to kill him. Even then, Vegeta scoffs "The fact that he's YOUR brother doesn't exactly fill me with confidence" It's possible that Raditz did actually forget his brother and it was only in his panic, scrambling mentally for any way to save his life, that in that moment of desperation he at last remembered Kakarot.

Again, if we are to consider this conversation canon, Raditz needs Goku to survive to better the odds of his own survival, it's only after he's in a pod heading to Earth that he has time to think about Kakarot and wonder why he hasn't tried contacting them after so long.

But back to the OG manga, After Raditz gives Goku his ultimatum, he says this:

Again, he could've stopped at "I hope you don't disappoint me" but to follow it up by emphasizing it's for both his and Gohan's sake is noteworthy.

And even though Raditz clearly doesn't have much of a connection with Gohan as he does with Goku, I find this bit particularly interesting:

He barks at Gohan to stop crying and states that he possesses the proud blood of Saiyans. Yes, he is annoyed by Gohan's crying, but he also feels that he's better than that since he is still a Saiyan and wants him to be strong.

I like to imagine that Raditz is repeating something Bardock told him when he cried as a child, it feels like a very Bardock thing to say.

I particularly like the english dub of this scene, Justin Cook gives such an interesting and tender delivery of the line.

Also I really like how Raditz pauses to look at Gohan before walking away in the anime, I like to interpret it as Raditz seeing a bit of himself as a child in Gohan, but quickly burying those feelings.

There's a little fancomic I found that really drives that idea home.

When Goku and Piccolo show up, before they even fight, Raditz says this:

Again, why warn Goku? This feels more like Raditz is still in the bargaining mindset, he's trying to get his brother to give up and now must resort to brutally beating him to get his point through.

And then followed by this.

Remember, his scouter is open, so it's entirely possible he's acting ruthless and declaring they'll die so he won't look soft to Vegeta. I mean, he'd kill Piccolo without a thought, yeah, but Goku...? It may still be a bluff.

Plus, if he was serious about killing them, why stand around and let them plot instead of finishing them off?

The tail scene is where we see Raditz's cowardly nature on full display. But I think this moment really enhances his character because most Saiyans probably wouldn't beg for their lives, at least not to the degree Raditz is doing, they're too proud a race.

Raditz starts rambling about how he'd never actually kill his brother and his death threats were just bluffs.

Yes, we know it's a ploy to get free, but could there be an iota of truth in there? The fact he could've cut off his tail but was waiting for Piccolo to fire off his second Makenkosopo shows that Raditz is a quick thinker and very calculating.

Plus he probably didn't want to have to lose his tail unless he absolutely HAD to.

Goku was NOT stupid for letting go.

After Goku releases him, Raditz mocks his softness stating that he, a Saiyan-warrior wouldn't hesitate to kill their own brother, only to confusedly ask if Goku wants "a demonstration".

Like, if he wouldn't hesitate to kill his brother, why is he hesitating to kill his brother?

He's not killing him, he's torturing him, he could easily end it.

Remember that Double Sunday he shot off with ease earlier?

And of course after Raditz and Goku get turned into donuts, Raditz says one of the saddest lines in retrospect:

Like, he is relying on Vegeta and Nappa to save him, believing that they'll value him as a Saiyan and bring him back because HE HAS NO ONE ELSE TO RELY ON.

Right before he dies, he's in a sort of stage 4 depression where he can't believe this is how his life is going to end, dying alone and disgraced on some backwater planet at the hands of his own brother, their family line coming to a miserable end. He's never allowed to come to stage 5: acceptance (which is often where the change in a person's perspective/character tends to happen) because he dies and is forgotten.

Another thing that makes me sad Raditz didn't survive is cuz he's the perfect medium between Goku and Vegeta.

Goku rejects his saiyan heritage while Vegeta clings to it, but Raditz feels like he could easily straddle both worlds. He'd cling to his saiyan heritage out of love and respect for his parents (He'd still call Goku Kakarot, not because "it's a Saiyan name" like Vegeta, but because it's the name Bardock and Gine gave, his reason a much more personal one).

However, Raditz would have plenty of things NOT to like about Saiyan society, especially with how he and his father were treated as low-class warriors.

Being on earth, surrounded by kind people who don't belittle him and show basic kindness and respect would quickly endear Raditz to earth (remember, Bardock's kin are unusually empathetic for Saiyans).

Plus, being around Goku, who'd no doubt encourage and be proud of Raditz whilst training, would do a lot to boost Raditz's confidence (Goku looking like Bardock a way to ease his yearning to prove himself to his father) and further make him enjoy earth.

I like to imagine that, while Goku always wears a training gi from earth and Vegeta always wears some semblance of saiyan armor, Raditz would probably have a saiyan breastplate resembling Bardock's (as a kind of tribute to his dad) and go with loose pants like Goku which is good for training, visually symbolizing his willingness to find the balance between two worlds.

If Raditz had survived in the canon, this could've played even further into Vegeta's sense of isolation post-Cell arc. During his whole Majin Vegeta vs Goku fight speech, he could've said something like "And imagine the frustration I felt, when the only other pure-blood of my race left, your brother, that low-level trash who'd trembled for years under my elite warrior might, not only obtained the power of a super saiyan, but deemed me, ME the prince of all Saiyans UNWORTHY of his time! UNWORTHY FOR HIM TO FIGHT!"

Oh, and...

Must run in the family.

[cellythefloshie]

;; Locked In    by cellythefloshie

Summary: When the NHL season is abruptly halted by a global pandemic, and you find yourself sharing your tiny apartment with your brother's rookie teammate, Quinn Hughes. Kinks & TW: Tanev Sister Reader, Forced Proximity, Secret Hook-up/Romance, 2019-2020 Season, Covid-19 Lockdown, Hints of Mild Dominance from Quinn, Mild Alcohol Consumption, Dry Humping, Vaginal Fingering, A Little Angsty (unresolved). Word Count: 4k+ A/N: I hadn't planned to post anything in January. I was just going to post my Best of 2024 and be done until February. BUT then I decided I wanted to challenge myself a little. I wanted to write for a player I thought I would never write for. AND then I was writing for a time I never thought I would write before because, of course, his rookie season had to be during the pandemic. Please be gentle with me. I took a lot of creative liberties here, but I hope you all enjoy.

“Why does he have to stay here?”

The tension in your shoulders grew as you glared up at your brother Chris. If your words hadn’t been clear enough in telling him just how displeased you were with his proposition, your body language would have to help get the point across. 

“It’s just for a few days until they get everything figured out,” Chris replied, brushing off your annoyance with a casual shrug with an ease that left a bad taste in your mouth—and it really shouldn’t have. As your big brother, he had years of practice in the art of convincing you to do things you didn’t want to do. 

Sighing, you passed Chris and at the player your brother was hoping you’d welcome into the small one-bedroom apartment you called home. Quinn Hughes, the team's rookie defenseman. Tall, and handsome, you had done your best to keep your distance from him when you had met once before—knowing yourself too well to trust that you would behave around a guy like him. 

He was shy back then and seemed just as timid as he stood awkwardly in the hallway, pretending not to hear the conversation you were having with Chris. Quinn kept his head down, his warm brown eyes locked on the floor like a sad, pound puppy that nobody wanted, with his hands shoved into the pockets of his team branded hoodie. 

Forcing a smile, your gaze focused back up on your brother, and his toothy grin that was always just enough to convince you. 

“It’s bad enough that there’s some illness going around that’s so serious that they halted the season and the world feels like it’s ending,” you began, “but now you’re locking me in my apartment with the team’s rookie?”

“I can hear you, you know?” Quinn spoke up from the hallways, his gaze raising from the floor for the first time since he had arrived. 

Your heart beat hastened, and it pounded so strongly you could feel it against the delicate flesh of your throat. It raced so quickly; you thought it might burst through your chest as a wave of heated embarrassment washed over you. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” you tried to play it cool, but if Quinn had reached out and felt just how sweaty your hands had become, he would know just how much of a facade it was. “Why can’t he stay with you?” You cocked your head as you brought your arms up to cross over your chest, begging him to get to the point he was trying to make. 

“The kids’ daycare is closed. Mom’s flying in before things get worse–but he’s my responsibility since we already got Petey home to Sweden and they don’t want any of the guy alone for-” Chris cut himself off, as if there was more to say but he didn’t want you to hear it. You hung on his words for a moment, ready to question him on it, but you didn’t. You knew better than to question your big brother. 

“Does mom think it’s a good idea to stick me in an apartment with him?” You challenged him in a last ditch effort to try to get out of the familial obligation of helping out your brother when he needed it. 

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.” His smile grew wider as he placed Quinn’s bag down on the floor just inside the door. 

“You know,” you sighed, leaning against your door, giving Quinn just enough room to come inside, “instead of flying mom home, Quinn could have helped with the kids.” It was your final, half-serious attempt to escape the arrangement, but it only made your brother laugh. 

“Thanks, Sis,” he said simply, ignoring your every attempt to say no before he was gone, leaving you and Quinn alone in your apartment. 

You lingered by the door for a moment, your head resting against the surface as you let out a steady breath. Maybe if Chris had given you a heads up, you might have felt differently about the entire situation, but your place was in no condition for a houseguest. Dishes had piled up in the sink, your laundry was half folded on the couch, and you were in the middle of rewatching your favorite television series on Netflix as a way to avoid the hell that was going on in the world. And Quinn, he was just going to have to accept all of it. 

But only for a few days. 

With a sigh, you pushed back from the door and forced a smile. “Sorry about the mess,” you told him as you moved to the couch and gathered armfuls of clothes. “You can set yourself up on the couch. Put on anything you like. I’ll get this all out of the way.”

“Do you need a hand?” Quinn offered, and you almost flinched. You hadn’t expected him to be so nice. 

“No, no, I’m fine,” you assured, carrying the clothes into your bedroom before throwing them onto your bed. You would deal with them later. First, you would have to deal with Quinn. 

Leaving your room, you shut the door firmly behind you. “That’s my room,” you gestured to the closed door, “it’s off limits to you unless stated otherwise. Obviously, you’re in the living room, which also happens to be the kitchen and the dining room. And through there is the bathroom, and if you can manage all of that without getting lost, tomorrow I can show you where the laundry room is down the hall.”

It wasn’t much of a tour, but the apartment was small. Surely if Quinn needed anything, he would figure it out—and you wanted nothing more than to retreat and hide away from the awkward situation your brother had forced you into. Maybe it made you seem harsh—or maybe it didn’t, because Quinn met your words with a soft smile and a quiet thanks before he settled in on the sofa, making himself at home. 

“If you need anything,” you started softly, your words becoming heavy with a sigh, “just knock.”

Slowly, you slipped away into the sanctuary of your bedroom, your lips moving in a whisper of a prayer as you began to put your laundry into its place. “It’s only for a few days…”

Days turned into weeks. And as the world’s condition only seemed to worsen, necessity foiled your determination to keep Quinn at arm’s length. You could only take so much solitude in your room before the silence became unbearable. While you had movies on your laptop and video chats with your friends to keep you entertained, you needed real human contact to keep yourself from insanity. Slowly, you began to share meals together, and small talk that slowly grew beyond hockey and the relationship you had with your brothers Chris and Brandon. And to your surprise, he wasn’t the worst house guest. Quinn was self-sufficient, considerate, and–while you would never admit it to Chris–the only person keeping you from losing your mind. 

“Do you maybe want to watch a movie together, or something?” you asked him one night after dinner, your tone as casual as you could muster. 

Quinn’s attention snapped to you, shifting from his phone that lit up the surprise that overtook his features. “Yeah, sure. I can set it up. Anything you want to watch?”

You shrugged as you tucked the last of the clean dishes away. “Just put on whatever. I’ll pop some popcorn.”

Settling on the couch minutes later, you place the bowl of popcorn in the space between you. As the movie played, the distance between you and Quinn seemed to shrink with each handful. You felt the warmth of his body radiating from him, and the softness of his hands as they collided with yours on the hunt for just another handful of popcorn. It was a subtle, but unignorable touch that made your pulse quicken. 

Biting down on your lower lip, you brought your hands back to rest on your lap, and you glanced at him from the corner of your eyes. Quinn was focused on the movie, his sharp jawline tense as he enjoyed the last handful of popcorn. His eyes didn’t hold the heavy sadness they had when he had arrived at your apartment weeks ago, but seemed to have a hint of a smile in them as he laughed at one of the jokes as it played out on screen. 

You smiled softly to yourself. 

You liked his laugh, and maybe it was just the weeks of isolation consuming you, but… he wasn’t bad company at all. 

“What?” Quinn’s question sent a nervous jolt through you. He had caught you looking. 

“Nothing,” you said quickly, trying to play it cool. 

The couch shifted as Quinn turned his body away from the movie, giving his attention to you as he relaxed back against the arm of the couch. “Tell me.”

For a moment, you thought about ignoring him. That the two of you could ignore what had just happened and just get lost in the movie until the crack in your hardened facade was forgotten. But his stare left you giddy, and there was no hiding the smile that began to blossom over your features. 

“You’re not a bad guy to have around, Hughes,” you finally admitted, “and I’m glad you’re here.”

A smile, genuine smile spread across his face as he reached up to push his thick brunette hair from his eyes, “your brother thought it would be best for you–”

Your brows furrowed, your question leaving your lips in a firm question before he could continue, “I’m sorry, what?” “He didn’t want you to be alone during all of this,” Quinn explained, his voice soft and sheepish, as if he knew he shouldn’t have been telling you anything. 

You leaned back against the opposite arm of the couch, your legs coming up to spread across the cushions and dragging along his leg slowly, accidentally, until you were comfortable there. “That lying bastard,” you laughed in disbelief, “he told me you being here was for your sake!”

Quinn’s laughter joined yours, warm and contagious as it created a symphony with yours. “We’ll have to give him hell for it later… but it hasn’t been all that bad, has it?”

You shook your head slowly, a silent admission that the weeks you had spent together in forced proximity weren’t all that bad. Standing up, you moved to the fridge, finding two tall beer bottles in the back. You carried one in each hand back to the couch, offering one to him as you stood just behind him, your body leaning against the back of the couch. 

“I can think of maybe two people I’d rather be stuck here with,” you joked lightly. 

“Ouch,” Quinn teased as he twisted off the cap and took a long, satisfying sip. 

“Don’t lie,” you told him. “I know you’d rather be at home with your brothers.”

“My brothers aren’t as easy on the eyes as you are,” Quinn said quickly, without hesitation. But then his face flooded with color, and his eyes went wide. Just as quickly as his words had been said, Quinn had realized they had not just been the thoughts reserved for his head. “Let’s pretend I didn’t just say that, okay?”

You raised your brow, challenging him with a smile as you asked, “What would be the fun in that?” 

Quinn’s smile grew. 

Your brother had thrown you both into this situation. You, his sister, cooped up with him, the team’s rookie defenceman, during a global pandemic that left you both isolated and alone. What Chris had expected to happen? You didn’t know. But it was only a matter of time before the lines you had created became blurred. 

After a long, satisfying sip of beer to boost your confidence, you leaned forward and placed it down on the coffee table. Licking your lips slowly, you hesitated, your mind screaming no, but your body telling you yes, as you climbed into Quinn’s lap slowly. You seated yourself there, his lap between your thighs as you straddled him. His eyes shot wide, a quiet cough choking him as he forced back a sip of beer and silently handed the cold bottle to you. 

Leaning back carefully, you place it down next to yours, Quinn’s hands reaching out to grip carefully at your thighs to keep you from falling back. He anchored you there, in his lap, as you settled back into place carefully, your body arching further into his, stealing more and more of his space until you were a breath away from his lips. A small smile blossomed over your lips slowly, your body consumed with the giddiness of what you were about to do. Your brother would kill you for this, or Quinn, but you didn’t care. It made it all the more exciting to lean in and kiss him. 

There was a moment of hesitancy in the careful kiss of Quinn’s lips as they welcomed yours. His kiss was slow, and curious as your eyes fluttered shut and your hands came to rest on his shoulders. Your touch was a feather light fleeting touch that quickly found its way into the thick wisps of his hair as his kiss deepened with desperation. 

He kissed you like you were a glass of water, and he hadn’t had a sip in weeks. His tongue stroked your lips slowly before parting them, and you could taste the beer on his tongue as you welcomed it into your mouth. The sweet contact unleashed a hum that caused through Quinn’s body in a subtle vibration that could feel between your thighs. And suddenly, your entire body was weak, like gelatin, and craving more than just the kiss of his lips. 

“Quinn,” you whined against his lips, your hips moving in slow rotations over his lap, grinding your core against his cock that you hoped to coax into an erection. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, breaking the kiss for the first time as he threw his head back. Quinn’s touch left where he held you firmly at the back of your thighs, dragging upwards until they settled on your hips and encouraged your every movement. 

You watched as his face melted into a soft expression that you couldn’t quite place, his mouth agape and his eyes shut as he focused on the very feeling of you. And between your legs, you could feel the stiffness of his cock, hard and ready. Reaching down, your fingers fumbled to work him free of his pants, but the quick lurch of his one hand captured both of yours in his hold. 

You looked up at him, your eyes wide in shock as he guided your hands to the waistband of your pants carefully. 

“Take those off,” he told you, his words firm and far from a suggestion, “and go to your room.”

Holy fuck. You had never been someone who liked to be told what to do, but in that moment, Quinn could have told you to do anything and you would have done it. 

Standing slowly, you stood between his knees as she remained seated on the couch. Your eyes fixated on his features, worried that if you had let them wander down out of curiosity, you might moan. As you held your breath, your hands pushed down at the waist of your pants, you pushed them down—and your panties went with them. 

They remained in a heap on the floor, your toes tripping over them slightly as you began the agonizing walk to the bedroom. With every stride you could feel your own wetness dripping down the inside of your thighs, your core begging to be filled. And as you got to your bedroom, you froze, your legs pressed firm together as you waited. His footsteps didn’t fill the silence. Quinn wasn’t following you. 

Your heartbeat pounded in your ears, your flesh suddenly red hut and sent a shimmer with a sheen of sweat. Quinn was still in the living room, his thoughts entirely his own as you waited, near panicked, for him to join you. 

Standing with your back to the door, your eyes shut as you took deep breaths in an attempt to remain calm. Maybe you had been too forward. He wasn’t interested—or maybe he wasn’t as reckless as you and wasn’t ready to throw away a good relationship with his teammate by fucking his teammate’s sister. 

“Fuck,” you cursed to yourself, ready to accept the mistake you had just made. 

Reaching for your blanket, you had intended to wrap it around your waist and retreat back into the living room with an apology, but when you turned around, Quinn was standing in your doorway. 

His steps were slow as he entered your bedroom for the first time since he had arrived two weeks prior. Quinn wasted no time getting familiar with his surroundings. He only had eyes for you as he met you where you stood frozen at the foot of your bed. Quinn’s arms wrapped around you in a careful bear-hug, drawing your body flush with his as his lips found yours in a kiss that reassured you that your advances had been welcome. 

You moaned against his lips as he lay you out on your bed with an effortless strength and splayed your legs open wide. Quinn could have settled himself in between them, but instead, he lay down at your side, your one leg propped up against him. He stroked at the delicate flesh of your inner thigh slowly as he kissed you. His touch moved up only an inch at a time, teasing you as he encroached on the apex of your thighs. He left your body shuddering with anticipation, his hand hovering over your eagerness but void of his touch when you knew he was so close to where you wanted him. 

“Please don’t make me beg,” you muttered against his lips. 

It had been weeks since you had anyone touch you, and when he had become your unexpected house guest, he was the last person you thought you would welcome into your bed. But now that you had him there, you wanted all of him, or as much of himself as he was willing to give you. 

First, you felt him smile against your lips, a hum of a laugh coursing through him, and then you felt his fingers on your clit. 

Your teeth grit in a satisfied hiss, your hips raising to meet his touch with an eagerness that was out of your control. Your heels dug down into the bed, your hips rolling into every careful circular stroke he made before his fingers dipped down, feeling the slick of your arousal and plunged into your core. 

“Quinn,” you gasped out, your hips dropping into a downward angle to welcome his fingers into your core. 

His middle and ring finger worked you in quick thrusts that left your mind dizzy and your movements purely instinctive as you anchored yourself to your bed with the grasp of your hand and bucked your hips up into his hand just to feel more of him. Quickly, you were so embarrassingly close to coming, and it left you reeling as you looked up at him with pleading eyes. 

“Are you going to-” you started, your body trying to roll on top of him in a swift movement that was interrupted by the careful push of his free hand against your hip. Quinn pushed you back to laying flat against the bed, one hand still buried in your core while the other held you down at the hips. The angle he worked you into, paired with how his fingers curled at just the right spot as they worked you, sent a fire burning through you. Your arousal coated his fingers, dripping down over his palm and making a mess of the bed as pleasure pulsed through you. It left you moaning, your head thrown back against the mattress as your core clenched around his fingers, wishing that it was his cock. 

As you lay in your bed, panting, you tried to remember the last time you let someone do something as adolescent as getting you off with nothing more than their fingers. But your mind was fogged by the bliss of your climax—but one thought hung low over you, preventing you from enjoying it fully. Quinn hadn’t gotten to enjoy releasing himself. 

Rolling over slowly, you tried to reach out for his waistband again, but he caught your hand. Your gaze met his, his eyes soft, and his smile small as he stroked the back of your hand with his thumb slowly. 

“You didn’t get to-” You started, but he cut you off. 

“I know,” he said, his hand bringing your hand to his lips to place a gentle kiss on your palm—a small attempt at a distraction from how his cock still seemed to throb in the confines of his pants. “But let’s sleep on it, okay? Make sure you don’t regret this in the morning. I mean, your brother is my teammate, after all.”

“Oh,” you sounded softly, trying to hide your disappointment behind understanding, “yeah, okay. But ah- can you stay in here with me tonight?” You requested slowly, “I don’t want to sleep alone anymore-”

Quinn nodded slowly, leaning in to place a kiss on your forehead. “I can do that, anything to get away from sleeping on that damn couch–”

The morning sunlight filtered weakly through the curtains, casting long shadows across the table as you sat across from Quinn. It was the first morning since he had arrived that it felt like you weren’t walking on eggshells. It was a quiet, comfortable affair, yet there was a new tension in the air. One that you couldn’t quite place. Maybe he was regretting what had happened. That thought alone left your stomach in your throat as you poked at your breakfast, trying to find the will to take the first bite. 

Then, breaking the silence, Quinn found the courage to speak. “I’m allowed to fly back to Michigan, to be with my family until the season resumes.”

Your grasp on your fork tightened, his words hitting you like a slap to the face. You could feel your face wanting to fall into a scowl, but you did your best to mask it by taking a long sip of your drink as you sought composure. 

So that was it. After weeks of shared solitaire, an awkward beginning that turned into something that felt natural, he was leaving? Just like that?

“That’s great,” you said, forcing a smile. “When do you leave?”

“Tomorrow morning,” he answered. 

You could feel his gaze on your face, searching for the reaction you refused to give him. Instead, you let your features soften, a practiced smile on your features as you set your fork down on the table with deliberate care. “I won’t keep you then. You’ve got some packing to do. The last thing you need is a distraction.”

Pushing your chair back, you abandoned your place on the table, your breakfast unfinished, and moved towards your bedroom. Your footsteps were quick, your eyes fixated on your bedroom door, and they did not deviate from it. Not even as Quinn’s voice followed you, your name leaving his lips in a gentle plea, “Please wait, can we talk about this?”

His words didn’t stop you. You didn’t turn around; you didn’t look back at him. Instead, your hand just tightened into your fist at your side as you reached the threshold of your doorway. There, you lingered for a moment, your flexed hand reaching up to rest against the door frame. You could feel Quinn’s eyes on your back, and your lips parted as if to say something–a sharp retort, a clever quip, anything to fill the silence–but no words came. 

Only a quivering breath left your lips as you stepped into your room and closed the door firmly behind you. 

The quietness and sudden isolation of your room were suddenly suffocating. Just mere hours ago you had Quinn had woken up there, together, and now he was going to just leave? It felt like some sick and twisted joke that left you trembling as you sank to your knees. You couldn’t help but wonder if he had known before breakfast, and that last night only happened because Quinn knew he was going to leave. The what ifs were all-consuming in your mind, raging louder and louder even if you tried to combat them with: Quinn, isn’t that kind of guy. He’s good—at least that’s what you wanted to believe. But the thought wasn’t enough. Your tears came anyway, hot and unrelenting as you silently sobbed. The hot tears spilled down your cheeks as you pressed your psalm into your face to muffle any sound that threatened to escape your lips. 

Quinn was leaving. After everything. After the awkward days of learning to live together, and the late-night talks, the laughter, and the moments that felt too intimate to be casual. You’d finally allowed yourself to settle into the strange shared existence the two of you had been thrust into. For two weeks, it was just the two of you alone in the little world that was your apartment. When Chris had dropped him off weeks ago, you knew the arrangement was temporary. At one point you had been counting down the hours until he could leave… but now, as you struggled through shallow breaths in search of a glimmer of composure, you had to accept he was leaving you behind, and it felt achingly permanent. 

In just twenty-four hours, Quinn would be gone.

You spent each one of them alone in your room, your mind racing with so many things you wanted to say, but never brought yourself to. As the next time you left your room, the apartment was unbearably quiet, void of Quinn’s presence. And for the first time in weeks, you were truly alone. 

[insomniadreamzz]

OK OK OK FOLLOWING THE PREGNANCY STORYLINE LETS IMAGINE ISHA IS HERE A CUTE FLUFFY THING WITH EITHER ISHA MEETING THE BABY OR FINDING OUT READER IS PREGNANT AND THAT SHES GONNA BE A BIG SIS

Our family

Jinx x Fem!Reader ft. Isha (plus a little bonus with Sevika)

Fluff

A continuation from the fic „My Everything“ https://www.tumblr.com/insomniadreamzz/772011828255621120/hey-how-are-you-i-wanted-to-request-gp-jinx-x

You still remember when Isha found out she gonna be a big sister, the way her eyes were literally glowing with happiness. Isha was mute but she expressed her happiness clearly, already doing little doodles of her and her sister together with you and Jinx. The way she put her little head on your baby bump to feel her sister kick, it was just too cute.

Jinx already set up some stuff for the little one, making sure youre gonna have everything you needed when the baby will arrive and soon it happened.

You can still remember how Jinx held your hand and never left your side. Singed, the only doctor here in Zaun also made an appearance to make sure everything went well. He wasn’t used to be part of something like that very often but he was glad he could help you out in that situation. Jinx kisses on your forehead and the way she encouraged you during that hard time, it was still stuck in your head how gentle and loving she can be and then it happened. When you first heard your little one cry, both of you shed tears of happiness, feeling relieved that everything went good. It was a little girl.

When you both got back home after that, Jinx immediately ushered you to bed, figuring you must be tired as you had your newborn in your arms, Jinx never leaving your side.

„Look how cute she is…our little one…“ She cooed, holding you close as she admired your daughter, making you smile so happily. „Of course she is, she is ours.“ You mentioned, looking into your girlfriend’s eyes. „What should we name her?“ You asked and Jinx already got an idea, something that she was thinking about for a longer time now since she knew you are pregnant.

„Powder.“ Jinx said, making your eyes widen in confusion, knowing it was Jinx‘s actual name. „Powder?“ You asked, Jinx nodding in response. „Yes. I want to have a good connection to that name now. Every time I hear it I have to think about myself when I was younger and…certain things happened but I want to forget that. I want to be happy hearing the name Powder and not feel triggered anymore by that name. She will be a better Powder, not like me. I am Jinx now, Powder died in me but we can make her be a better Powder than I was.“ You heard her voice crack a little, seeing little tears running down her cheeks. This really meant a lot to Jinx, you knew it. „Then she will be Powder.“ You agreed with her, using your free hand to caress her back gently, getting back her attention towards you. „Thank you my love.“ She said before placing a little kiss on your lips.

The moment got interrupted by little footsteps, it was Isha who curiously walked up to you, Jinx shifting to make space for Isha between you both. „Isha! Come here, say hello to your little sister.“ Jinx said, letting the girl slip beside you as she looked at the little one with wide happy eyes, her small hand gently touching Powder as if welcoming her.

„Now you are a big sister. You can show her everything when she gets a little bigger, cool right?“ You said, Isha nodding at your words, feeling really happy to be a big sister now plus she was excited to have someone to play with in the future as well.

You talked a little more this evening until all of you just fell asleep. Powder on your chest and Isha sleeping between you and Jinx, all cuddled up in one bed. It was a very peaceful moment. Jinx slept for the first time very happily and calm, the voices in her head not bothering her at all. She was truly happy for the first time and she won’t let anyone destroy this happy life she had.

The next morning Sevika was on her way to Jinx’s hideout, it’s been a while since she showed up, probably hanging around in the Last Drop or doing her usual work. Sevika knew Jinx from when Silco took her with him so she felt like she had to look for her every now and then, making sure Jinx was alright.

„Jinx where the fuck are-…“ She started but stopped immediately in her tracks as she saw Jinx holding a baby while you and Isha were still sleeping cuddled up together. „Where did that baby come from?“ She asked with a raised eyebrow, not trusting this situation for now.

„That’s my daughter which came right out of my girlfriend if you want to know.“ Jinx replied with her usual sassy behavior. Sevika didn’t want to know any more details, shaking it off as she stepped closer to Jinx, having a closer look at the baby. „That’s…really yours?“ She asked again, being a little bit shocked, Jinx nodding in response. „Yep! Does auntie Sevika want to say hello to little Powder? Or are you gonna chicken out?“ Obviously Jinx had to tease Sevika but the older woman didn’t let her make her annoyed as she just nodded. Jinx helped Sevika to hold Powder with her arm, the baby looking even smaller in her strong arm. „There you go.“

Sevika stared at the baby with a unusual soft gaze. „Aw…did you just say auntie Sevika?“ She asked to be sure. „Of course! You’re the only one left who’s like a family to me after Silco died.“ Jinx became soft as she said that, thinking it was about time to speak the truth to Sevika, making the other womans eyes water a little. „Silco would be so happy and proud of you Jinx.“ Sevika mentioned, making Jinx almost cry but she held back her tears. Instead a little tear rolled down Sevika‘s cheek. „Are you crying?“ Jinx tilted her head as she gazed at Sevika who just shook her head. „No I am not.“ She said, making Jinx chuckle in response. „Damn you are a bad liar.“

And with that both started chuckling.

[rmadridcore]

Love in Slow Motion

Pairing: Jude Bellingham x Reader

Summary: Nine times Jude felt a strange warmth whenever he was around you, and one time he finally realized what it was.

Word Count: 1.8K

Author’s note: took a break from writing, but i’m back with a little fluffy Jude fic 🤍 i’ll start getting through my requests as well 🫂

The type of relationship you and Jude had was very special to him. It hasn’t been too long since you two became a couple and he wasn’t the type to get too serious, too fast. He preferred keeping things casual — no heavy responsibilities, no complicated emotions, just light and easy. But that all shifted when you walked into his life. It was like a switch flipped, and suddenly, what used to feel complicated or burdensome didn’t seem that way anymore. He found out how peaceful it could be to have the right person by your side. With you, everything felt good, natural. He was attracted to you, sure, but it went far beyond that. There was this deep respect, an admiration that ran much deeper than anything he had ever experienced before. And he was glad to have you in his life.

But then there was that other feeling. It was subtle at first, a strange, confusing fuzz in the pit of his stomach. A warmth that spread through his chest and left him feeling... overwhelmed, in the best possible way.

The feeling would hit him at the most random times, uninvited but never unwelcome. He couldn’t quite put a name to it at first, but it was undeniable — it was strong, intense, and utterly inescapable when he was around you. And it took him a while, 10 moments to be exact, before he finally realized what that feeling really was.

The first time it hit him was during an ordinary Tuesday at his place. You two had just come back from the gym, snacks in hand — a little indulgence after an intense workout. You sat cross-legged on the floor near the coffee table, meticulously sorting through your favorite candy, arranging them by color like it was some life or death mission. Jude couldn’t help but watch, utterly mesmerized. The way your brows furrowed in concentration, the seriousness in your expression over something so trivial. It was adorable. He didn’t even realize he was smiling, his heart swelling with that familiar warmth. He’d barely noticed it then, but that was the first time the feeling crept in.

The second time was less subtle. You two were lounging in bed, tangled up in each other’s arms as the worst crime series he’d ever seen played on TV. You loved it, adored it, despite how horrendously predictable and dull it was. If it were up to him, that show would never grace his screen, not in a million years. But when you asked him to watch it with you, he couldn’t say no. He didn’t want to. Even though he didn’t care for the show, he found himself invested — not in the plot, but in the way your face lit up during the ridiculous twists, how you laughed at the over the top dialogue. It hit him then, that same feeling, stronger this time. He didn’t care about the show. He cared about you, about how happy you were. And somehow, that made it all worth it.

The third time it hit him was at dawn. Thirst had woken him up in the middle of the night, and after a quick drink of water, he climbed back into bed. But sleep didn’t return as easily. Instead, he found himself gazing at you — your sleeping figure, so peaceful, so serene. You looked perfect, nestled into the fluffy pillow with the blanket pulled up to your chin. His heart swelled as he watched you, that same unamenable feeling washing over him again. There was something mesmerizing about how relaxed and beautiful you looked, your soft features illuminated by the faint light creeping through the curtains. You were flawless to him, like a dream come to life. And as he lied there, wide awake, he realized how happy it made him to be the one who got to fall asleep and wake up next to you. He was happy, so happy, and he couldn’t believe how lucky he was.

The fourth time came just before he had to leave for training. He was sitting at the kitchen table, lazily texting his brother, when you came over and placed a cup of coffee in front of him. You gave him a quick kiss before heading to the bathroom, leaving him to take his first sip. As the warm liquid touched his lips, it hit him — you hadn’t asked him how he liked his coffee in months. Only once, when you first started seeing each other. Since then, you had memorized his exact preferences, down to the smallest detail, making it for him just the way he liked without ever needing a reminder. That tiny, thoughtful gesture struck him harder than anything else could have. You knew him so well, and you cared enough to remember the little things. It was a simple moment, but it made him feel that same warmth, that same fuzzy feeling in his chest, stronger than ever.

The fifth time was during a dinner at your friend’s house. The evening had been fun, filled with laughter and conversations, but it was after dinner when that familiar feeling surged through him again. The guests had spread around the house, sipping on drinks and chatting in small groups. He had just come back from the balcony, where he had been talking with a few friends, when he spotted you across the room. You were sitting on a couch with your girlfriends, your head thrown back in laughter, the sound echoing through the room. God, you were beautiful. The way you laughed, so carefree, so full of joy, it made his breath hitch. Your eyes crinkled at the corners, your cheeks flushed from whatever joke had you in stitches, and he felt like time stopped for a moment. In that instant, all he wanted was to hold onto that image of you, happy and glowing. He wanted to freeze time, to keep you laughing forever. It was in moments like that when he felt it the most, this overwhelming, undeniable feeling.

The sixth time hit him when he was getting ready for an award show. You had been by his side all evening, calming his nerves, reassuring him with your words, building him up when he felt uncertain. He loved how involved you were in his career, how you were genuinely his number one fan. As you stood there fixing his collar, making sure he looked perfect before he walked out the door, that feeling rushed over him again. There was something so tender about the way you took care of him, focused on every little detail, and it hit him just how lucky he was to have someone who cared this much.

The seventh time happened on a simple stroll through the city. You loved being outdoors when the weather was nice, and Jude loved tagging along, happy to do anything that brought a smile to your face. As you two walked hand-in-hand along the sidewalk, an adorable white puppy caught your attention. Without a second thought, you dropped Jude’s hand and rushed over to pet the dog, kneeling down and squealing at how cute it was. Watching you gush over the puppy, completely losing yourself in the moment, made that warm, fuzzy feeling flood his chest again. He stood there, grinning, watching as you melted into a bundle of squeaks and giggles, and all he could think was how much he loved seeing you happy.

The eighth time came after one of the hardest days he’d had in a while. Exhausted and stressed, he came home expecting to collapse, but instead, he was greeted by the heavenly smell of his favorite meal cooking. You had surprised him, knowing full well that he’d be grumpy and starving after the long day. The house smelled like comfort, and you acted like it was no big deal, just something you casually did to make his day a little better. But to him, it meant everything. He kissed you as a way of saying thank you, feeling so grateful for how effortlessly you made his life better. You always knew exactly how to make him feel like the luckiest man in the world.

The ninth time was pure simplicity. He had just gotten out of the shower, towel wrapped around his waist, another one in hand as he dried his hair. He walked into the living room and saw you lounging on the couch, reading a book and wearing his T-shirt. Something about you in his clothes, looking so relaxed and at home in his space, hit him hard. It was such a small thing, but it sent that familiar warmth surging through him, stronger than ever. The sight of you so comfortable in his world, in his shirt, made him realize — he could get used to this. In fact, he wouldn’t want it any other way.

And the tenth time was the epiphany. You two were out grocery shopping, preparing for a dinner party you were hosting for your friends over the weekend. As you wandered through the aisles, picking and choosing what you needed for the meal, Jude followed behind you, pushing the cart loaded with products. He watched you with soft admiration as you weighed your options, debating what dessert to serve. It struck him how perfectly domestic everything felt; how easy, how natural, and how real it was.

Everything he once feared, commitment, responsibilities, routine, was now something he craved with you. He loved the simplicity of it all, the way you moved through life together with such ease. This wasn’t just about being comfortable; it was about feeling truly at home with you. And then, it hit him. That feeling he had been experiencing all along, that warmth in his chest — it was love.

It was love that made him stare at you sorting candy like it was the most captivating thing in the world. Love that had him watching that awful crime show with you, just to hold you close. Love that kept him glued to your sleeping face at dawn. Love that made your laugh the best sound he had ever heard, and the way you made his coffee exactly how he liked it felt so special. Love that made him emotional when you adjusted his collar, and why watching you squeal over a random dog on the street made his heart melt. It was love that made your cooking the best thing he could ever come home to, and why seeing you in his clothes felt so right.

He loved you — deeply, more than he ever thought possible. And as he looked at you then, standing in the grocery aisle, he was sure of one thing: when you looked back at him, there wasn’t a single doubt in his mind that you loved him just as much.

[mysticqueer]

an invitation (thanos x reader) Pt 1/3

A softer take on Thanos.

TW: depression, drugs, reader is going through some shit

Despite what some might think, working at Seoul's most exclusive nightclub wasn't always the best job around.

Sure, the nights were usually exciting—to say the least—and the customers always tipped well. But it also meant seeing the darker sides of the rich and famous clientele that frequented the space. You couldn't count how many idols—so beloved by their fans—turned into complete assholes the second they left the public eye. More than once you'd had to call a taxi for those idols after finding them passed out in their own puke. You'd occasionally thought about how much you could get for just one picture sold to the right tabloid. But you never gave in. This was the place that celebrities came to avoid the never ending spotlight.

Still, the job was good. It paid well, even without the tips. You got the opportunity to serve some of Seoul's greatest, and you had no shortage of crazy memories that would last you long into your old age.

But being a female bartender in any establishment came with its own dangers and annoyances. And the most prominent of those annoyances for you personally came with a name- Thanos.

At first, you weren't quite sure how exactly he'd gained entry. You'd heard of him before, but being a semi-successful rapper didn't get him on the same wealth level as your usual customers. You figured he must have known somebody important to get in. And he frequented your bar as consistently as he painted his nails.

The first time you met him, he'd spotted you from across the room and pushed his way through the crowd to get to you. He'd flirted with you nearly the whole night, never giving in to your disinterested responses. When he'd finally left at the end of the night, he made sure to see you off with such an enthusiastic goodbye that you'd think he'd known you for years.

This had been a near daily pattern for the last three weeks or so. He'd come in to the club and seat himself at your bar. He'd flirt, all crazed grins and dilated pupils, until he was too wasted to tell one person from another, at which point one of his friends would drag him home. And while you always rejected his advances—you did like to humor him sometimes. You couldn't deny that he was attractive: exactly your type, really. And he could be surprisingly charming when he wasn't stoned out of his mind. So he'd flirt, and you'd tease him in return, often even taking him by surprise. You liked seeing his face heat up, his ears tinged red, and his surprised yet gleeful expression.

And when one night he invited you back to his place, you'd actually considered it. You really had. But you knew, just like you knew the sun would rise the next morning, that being in a relationship with him would only hurt you in the end. It wasn't that you thought he was a bad person, really. You'd seen a lot of horrible men in your life—the kind of men you couldn't trust to hold your drink. But Thanos didn't strike you as that type. He could be obnoxious with his flirting, sure, but he never pushed so hard as to make anybody uncomfortable. He'd get into fights sometimes, but he never started any that weren't deserved. Overall, he gave you the impression of somebody trying to act tougher than they were, like a kitten spiking its fur to seem intimidating. He was almost cute, in that way.

No, it wasn't any of that that put you off of him. It was those colorful pills he kept in a cross around his neck. It was the white powder he'd see sprinkled onto his nose, when he was too far gone to even wipe it off. It was how he would drink himself into oblivion, if you didn't cut him off beforehand. You'd seen a lot of addicts in your life, even loved some of them. And there were few things more painful than watching somebody you care about deteriorate into a person they weren't. You'd seen many people like him, both famous and not. And you could count on one hand the different possible paths he was going down. Very few of them ended happily.

So you passed out drinks, and he flirted, and you teased him. You observed him from afar, watching the drugs control him more than himself. And you felt kind of bad. You had this strange urge to help him, somehow. To save him from himself and his self-destructive tendencies. But you also knew you'd only hurt yourself in the process. And Thanos, as immature as he often acted, was an adult capable of ruining his own life, if that's what he wanted.

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You'd had a very, very shitty week. The type of week that could steer your life off track. Your future, fucked. Your relationships, fucked. Everything, fucked.

But life was life, and so you went to work. One of the few constants you had left. You poured drink after drink, fighting the urge to down them yourself. The pain, the betrayal, the fear of the future all seemed to swirl together in your stomach into something bitter and resigned. The kind of feeling that makes you do stupid shit, because why the fuck not?

It was something you'd felt many a time before. It's something you recognized in the surrounding faces so often, including Thanos'. It was a downward spiral. Seeking numbness would only lead to worse decisions. Whether or not you realized it, you'd come out the other end changed, usually for the worst.

The thing was, it was too hard to care.

"Senoritaaaaaaaa-" the upbeat voice came barreling around the corner, bringing with it the familiar purple-haired boy wearing his trademark grin. Thanos slides onto the barstool directly in front of you, leaning half his body on the bar. "Miss me, baby?" He says in English—something he does a lot when flirting. He sends an exaggerated wink your way.

You try, but fail to muster your usual playfulness when Thanos comes around. Instead, you sent him a wane smile, looking back down quickly as somehow his bright personality feels too much for you at the moment. "Usual?" you ask, already pulling out a glass.

In your peripheral vision, Thanos nudges his friend that you hadn't even noticed before now. "See? She knows me so well." He says. You don't even have the energy to roll your eyes. When you don't respond and simply slide his drink across the bar, Thanos waits a beat before speaking again. He holds up one finger in a 'wait' gesture, and you internally sigh.

"I think I'm in the mood for something sweeter tonight." He says, eyes still on you.

You can already feel the set up to some shitty pick up line. But instead of playing into it, you ask "So you want a mixer?"

Thanos actually scoffs at the question, seeming almost offended. "Come on, babe, you know I'm not a bitch like that," he says, and you do actually roll your eyes this time. Especially when he leans forward even more, bringing himself only a few inches from your face. "But I was thinking your lips are sweet enough, yeah?" Thanos puckers his lips, tapping them with one finger.

It's not the first time he's tried something of this caliber. Normally, you'd come up with a sarcastic comeback or push him backwards with the palm of your hand. This time you do neither, simply sliding him his drink and walking away.

You don't look towards Thanos as you start to help another customer, but you can almost sense a stunned silence coming from his direction. You're only just finishing up with the other patron when Thanos slides back into your line of vision. Holding a hand up in front of his face and waving it. With some effort, you ignore him again, grabbing some glasses to wash.

You think you can hear Thanos' friend say something to him. And Thanos himself stubbornly pushes himself back into your line of sight. He waves again, only to get the same result. "I must be invisible," Thanos jokes to his friend. "Come onnnn, babe," he drawls in a whining tone.

At last you lose patience. Setting down the glass you're washing with a loud clank, you look up at him. You aren't sure what expression you have on right now, but it seems to take Thanos aback.

"Do you need something? I'm kind of busy," you snap, gesturing towards the other customers at the bar. In truth, you really aren't that busy. And you know it isn't particularly fair to Thanos, switching up your attitude towards him so suddenly. But you're so fucking tired, and you just can't deal with his sunshine-y persona right now.

You expect him to be annoyed. Mad, even. But instead his eyebrows furrow up, forming an expression you haven't seen on him before. "Did I do something wrong?" he asks, voice still exaggerated but a bit lower than it was before.

When you don't answer, he drops his chin to the bar pitifully, gazing up at you with a good imitation of sad puppy eyes. And it really isn't fair that this guy, this piece of shit drug-addicted rapper, makes such effective puppy eyes. But unfortunately, he is actually pretty cute. Maybe it's the eye makeup that makes his eyes pop? No- stop thinking about that. You force yourself to turn away from the despairing boy.

Just as you think you've finally shaken him off, he appears at the end of the bar, full body within your line of sight. He drops to his knees, forming a comically exaggerated 'begging' pose.

"The Great Thanos apologizes for your grievances," he says, bowing his head at you. "whatever they may be. And begs your forgiveness, oh gorgeous one." He blinks up at you, winking once again with a playful smirk on his face. But there's something else in his eyes, something more real. Does he genuinely think he's done something wrong to you? Of course, he's annoyed the hell out of you, consistently. But you've never really minded much before.

At his dramatic display (which is drawing a crowd, you realize with exhaustion) your expression softens minutely, and you give in. "You haven't done anything, Thanos. I'm just having a shitty day, okay?"

Thanos' eyes widen in understanding. He stands up again, and he sits back at the bar. To your relief, the crowd he'd drawn with his theatrics quickly disperses. "Anything the great Thanos can help with?" he asks, still playful to an extent but seeming genuine. You can't help but smile at him.

"Just some personal stuff. Nothing you can help with. Just go have fun, yeah?" you push his drink towards him one more time. Thanos nods slightly in understanding.

"You know where I am, yeah?" he blows you a quick kiss before disappearing into the crowd.

You sigh, getting back to work. But you can't deny that you feel a little lighter now, somehow.

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Despite finally getting the rapper to leave you be, it isn't the last time you see him that night. He drops by your bar even more often than usual. Sometimes not even getting a drink. Instead, he drops by to tell you dumb jokes, stories that are too insane to be true, and even the occasional failed magic trick. But he doesn't push you to respond like he normally would.

Every now and then, you can't help but quirk a smile at his antics. And whenever you do, he instantly lights up like a little kid at an amusement park. Every time he leaves, he sends you a smile and a salute as if to say, "I'll be back."

By the end of the night, you're exhausted. Not in the physical way, but in the deep-seated way when your soul is just so drained you can't think about anything. You aren't surprised when a familiar boy plops himself down at your bar that's now empty.

It seems it's not only your energy is drained, but his as well. His energy is far calmer than usual and makes you wonder if he's more sober tonight than he normally is. He smiles at you impishly, with just a hint of something else. ... Anxiety? Surely not. Anxiety is the last you'd ever associate with him.

"I have an invitation for you-" he starts, and the word 'no' is on the very tip of your tongue. Your lips nearly form the word when he interrupts you suddenly. "Wait!" he exclaims, holding one hand up as if to make you pause. "Party at my place. Before you say no, I promise you, it will be the" he stops for a second, looking for the words. "Best night of your life," he finally finishes in English.

You notice suddenly the group of drunk stragglers hanging out nearby, waiting for Thanos. Going to his 'party' as well, you assume.

No. No. Absolutely not. The word forms, takes shape, and is about to come out when you glance down at his hand. His palm, which you previously thought to be empty, is actually holding something.

A pill, hardly the size of a dime, and the same purple as his hair. You knew instantly what it was—a new party drug that only started hitting the streets recently. You'd observed countless people take it, watching the unnaturally strong energy and euphoria take over their minds.

It's a bad idea. You glance back up at Thanos, who is being surprisingly patient waiting for your response. You look into his eyes, his pretty, pretty eyes.

The dark mass swirls inside your stomach. You imagine yourself saying 'no'. Going home alone to your apartment. Eating crappy takeout and thinking about how fucked up your life has gotten.

Well, you've made worse decisions before.

You reach for his hand.

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[horeisenchi]

“365 Party Girl..”

shiu kong x divorced!reader

(Kinda long, sorry!)

contains: age gap, oral sex(receiving), penetrative sex, light bdsm, breeding, drinking, drugs

NSFW MINORS DNI!🔞🔞🔞

profiles without age will be blocked

The long, gruelling process of your divorce was hitting you hard. Harder than you’d expected it to. The first couple of weeks, you were glued to your apartment. Thankfully, you work from home, so it did not affect your income. However, you completely stopped going out. Now, after you’d gotten married, you didn’t go out much to begin with. With marriage, it’s always feeling a sort of obligation to stay home. And almost every time you had actually planned to go out, your controlling husband would call you ‘childish’ and say you have better things to do. Those ‘better things’ being getting him off, and then going to sleep without another word. Before you got married, you were a full-blown party girl. It was a challenge for any man to be able to properly tie you down, for you feared that he wouldn’t approve of your loud and fast lifestyle. You didn’t want to quit, but you thought you’d found the right man. Until, the sex became bland and only about his own pleasure. You hadn’t orgasmed from anything other than the stimulation of your hand, or whatever toy you were hiding in your bedside table underneath all your underwear in the past two years. The past two years after you married that asshole in your second year of college. Two years of marriage wasted on a man who ended up leaving randomly one morning, without so much as a goodbye.

BZZZZZZZZZ!

You rolled over to your bedside table from the opposite side of the queen bed, that you at least now had to yourself.

You open your phone to a text from your good friend, Utahime, begging you to come out.

“(Y/NNNNNNNN)! Come oooon! I haven’t seen you in forever. You have that stupid cocksucker out of your life come partyyyyyyy!!!!”

Your eyes widen at the message. You hadn’t gone out in forever. Especially not with Utahime. Even though she was the maid of honour at your wedding, your now ex-husband didn’t want you going out with her. For decent reason you suppose, considering you two did tend to get into trouble. There was one time when a frat guy left his card at the local bar in the college town over, some private university guy, and you rung up his card for definitely more drinks than he could afford. This got you banned from being anywhere near that university campus for ten years. Your youth spent with Utahime, was coked out shenanigans and doing whatever you felt like doing. Because you were free.

You knew what you would be getting into accepting her offer, so your first inclination is to decline. You don’t do that anymore, you haven’t touched drugs let alone alcohol in almost a year. Not exactly out of choice, more so because of lack of exposure, but it was almost foreign territory for you now.

But, the more you thought about it, the more intriguing it sounded. That side of you had been forcefully suppressed by that man ever since you’d gotten with him. How do you know that you don’t really want to go, or if you’ve just been conditioned into not wanting to go and having that be your automatic response? I guess tonight would be that test.

“Okay, okay. Send me the address.”

With that text sent, you knew you were locked in for the night. No backing out.

“Tokyo Taste, huh? Alright…” you mumble as you recognize the address sent to you. The last time you’d gone to Tokyo Taste, you got hit on HARD.

The guy in question, was an underclassman named Suguru Geto. Utahime brought him with her, along with her other high school friends. It’s not that he wasn’t attractive, dear lord that man was so gorgeous and statuesque. You had no idea why he was even talking to you, honestly. It’s just that you could tell that he was bored. He wasn’t actually interested in you, he just saw you as an easy target. He so much as grabbed your waist, bought you a drink, bent down to whisper in your ear how good you looked, and how he could imagine himself ripping that short black dress off you later. But while he was doing that, he was checking out almost every other woman in the room. If you followed his gaze every time he’d back away from you, and suddenly act uninterested, it was him locking eyes with another woman. Sure, he didn’t owe you anything. You guys weren’t together, and had only met that night. But, you had more self respect than to just allow yourself to be someone’s entertainment. You wanted someone to be all in, interested. Knowing they have options but just giving you their attention. That was when you developed actual standards.

You sluggishly got up out of bed, the time being a whopping 9:30 PM, and sauntered over to your closet. Stepping inside, you let your eyes wander as you try to find suitable clothes for going out. As you rummage through your things, you remember how you threw a lot of that stuff out, remembering the judging gaze of your ex husband as you got dressed and he demanded you change and cover up.

Finally, you land on a short, off the shoulder long sleeve black dress that clung to your body. It wasn’t the most revealing, but it was really sexy nonetheless. Along with it, you put on some dainty jewelry and some black stilettos. With a last look in the mirror after fixing your hair and throwing on just a tinge of makeup, you threw your purse over your shoulder and headed out.

As you drove to the club, your gut churned a bit. Nervous, from what may come from tonight.

No, (Y/N)… don’t do anything you don’t want to..

You tell yourself before hopping out of your car, and start heading into the club. You pay the stupid $15 door fee (and wonder how the hell you managed to scrape up the money for it so often back then), and head inside.

Your eyes scan the room, searching for Utahime in the crowd of sweaty, practically half naked bodies that surrounded you. As soon as you spot her, she’s sitting on a high top table, seated in the chair with a man standing between her legs as she stares up at him, wantonly. You ultimately decide to leave her alone for a minute, inclining you to go to the bar where you flag down the bartender and order an extra dirty martini. You take your seat at the bar and sip it, as you wait for Utahime to be done with whatever man she’s currently frisking. As you’re sitting at the bar, you feel a pair of eyes on you. A man, wearing a suit (probably having come here right after work), having a cigarette at the side of the bar that was by the large open window. You quickly look away, not gathering much of his facial features.

“No.. no, (Y/N). It’s too soon.”

You tell yourself. You suddenly feel way too intensely about the man staring at you, neither deciding if it was bad or good, before you stand up and bee-line for Utahime’s table not even caring if she’s getting fingered by some random guy under the table.

Utahime spots you as you sit down with your drink. “(Y/N)! You maaaaaaaade it!” She drunkenly slurs. You can’t help but chuckle at her current state, not feeling surprised at all. “Well, you look like you’re having a good time.” She shoos the random man away, earning a confused grimace from him as he walks away.

“Aw, did I ruin your chances of getting some?” You ask with a tinge of faux-pity. “No, more like denying my dealer some action for giving me some free stuff.”

You don’t show it, but mentally you’re shaking your head at the knowledge now that she still did that stuff. But, then again you can’t judge. You were right there with her. “You wannaaaaa..?” She shakes the little clear bag full of white powder just outside of her purse before slipping it in there, giving me a look of knowing she’s trouble. You knew if you said no, she would drop it and never ask again. But, a part of you was burning. Itching for some sort of release, some type of taste of who you used to be that you let go of so long ago. You knew it was mostly for the better… but fuck it.

“Bathroom. Now.” You respond, firmly.

After heading to the handicap stall with Utahime, and doing one… two… okay, maybe three lines, you feel yourself start to loosen up. Your body on overdrive, like you just had four shots of espresso, and your mind shut off. Completely driven by your id. The two of you come out of the bathroom like two firecrackers, ready to shoot off. The next hour or so is like a blur. All you knew is that you and Utahime were loud as hell at that table, ordering drink after drink after drink, occasionally stopping to dance to whatever song you liked came on. One in particular made its way on your playlist afterward, 365 by Charli XCX. You guess it had just recently come out, considering you’d never heard it in a club before.

“Til the windows crack I’ll be (bumpin that)

No I never go home don’t sleep don’t eat just do it on repeat keep (bumpin that)

When I’m in the club yeah I’m (bumpin that)

365 party girl (bumpin that)”

Drink in hand, jaw swinging, pupils blown out, it was a high you had been chasing. It was exactly what you needed, to bring yourself back to reminding yourself who you are. You needed to be allowed to be wild, to be allowed to have freedom, you couldn’t be controlled.

You make your way back to the table with Utahime, your drunkenness showing, but you’re high from the substance dying down, allowing yourself to level out a moment. You were about to suggest to Utahime for another line, when she interrupts you.

“There’s a guy at the bar who’s been staring at you this entire time.”

It was the same guy from earlier. You look over, this time letting your eyes graze over his features. He was lean, certainly built, but lean. His hair was clean, he had a sort of ‘rich douche’ countenance to him. And he was staring at you, intently. Not making it a secret, either. Your mind reeled back to what you had thought about Geto last time you were here..

“I want a man to know he has other options, but still just want me. Only be interested in me.”

As your mind flashes back to that, you realize that this guy was giving you exactly what you wanted. Hell, it didn’t look like he was talking to other girls here, and he’s practically had his gaze on you from the moment you got here.

“He’s hot, you should frisk him!” Utahime exclaims enthusiastically.

“Uta! I just got divorced-“

She interrupts you “So what?! You’re divorced from that douche who didn’t give a single fuck about you?!”

Well, shit. She had a point.

With that encouragement, you get up and walk over to the mystery man who was certainly not tearing his gaze away from you as you approached him, stopping just a foot in front of him.

“You got a starin problem?” You ask, loudly over the blaring music of the club.

“Didn’t know checking out a hot woman was a problem.” He replies, cocky as he takes a drag of his cigarette. Lord, that was hot.. and he was a lot taller up close..

“You been starin’ all night.” I call him out, seeing how he’d react.

He chuckles, knowing you’re right. “Damn right I have. I know what I like.” After saying that, his eyes shamelessly trail down your body, particularly taking longer gazes at your breasts which didn’t leave much to the imagination in that dress.

“Yeah? And what is it that you like.” You decide to play coy, tease him a bit. Make him work for it.

He moves his head, trying to get a good look at you from all angles. Looking a bit behind you at your rear, at your sides, taking in your general body shape. Then his eyes raise, his gaze lingering on your face, taking in your slightly messy state. He licks his lips before replying. “Well, you’re ungodly sexy, that goes without saying. You got a body men fantasize about. And you seem loose, and fun. You got the whole indie sleaze, messy sort of thing. You were just dancing, but it looks like you just got fucked senseless.”

He pauses a moment before continuing. “And, you got a nice face to go along with it.”

You feel a pool of heat growing in the pit of your stomach. All of his words accumulated together had you feeling just slightly cocky. You could tell he wanted you. He wanted you bad.

“How many girls you talked to tonight?” You ask, suddenly after moments of silence.

He was taken aback by your question, but meeting your gaze with a smirk “Just been waiting for you to come to me, baby.”

That was it. It was like a switch flipping in the back of your mind. Okay, it was game time. Even if it was bad, even if you never speak to him again, he’d make a damn good rebound fuck.

Another hour or so goes by, chatting with this man. You found out his name is Shiu Kong, he’s a Korean citizen, and he won’t exactly describe what his job entails. You just assume he works for the government or something. The big find, was that he was older. Much older. About 20 years older. When he revealed to you he was 42, your jaw hung, and not just from the dust.

He looked damn good for his age. Not that 40s are old, but just he didn’t look it at all. You would’ve guessed late 20s-early 30s. But 40s?

You’d always fantasized about having an older man. Someone to take care of you, pay for your nails, spoil you rotten, and come fuck you braindead after he gets off work. Someone affectionate, who doesn’t play games, because why would he? He’s been around the block enough. He’s probably tired of games.

And in turn, when you tell him you’re only 22, he almost contemplates stopping the conversation right there. He didn’t want to seem like some creep who’s preying on this woman half his age. However, when you brush off his age at your initial reaction, and explain to him you were just surprised, he shoos those thoughts away. He begins to fantasize about having a woman who is wild, spontaneous, damn near uncontrollable. Someone he’ll have to put in their place every now and then. This wasn’t a fantasy he had often, but dear lord you were bringing that out of him tenfold.

You decided you’d take him home. Whats the worst that could happen?

You both take separate cars back to your apartment, because the last thing you want is it to be bad or awkward afterward, and then have to drive him to his car. After getting there, you lead him up to your apartment.

Anticipation was running through you like a wildfire. The remnants of coke and alcohol still evident, but not nearly as strong as before. Just enough to give you a confidence boost and help you act a bit more bold than usual. You very quickly, eagerly reach up to unlock the front door, and usher the both of you inside. This doesn’t go unnoticed by him. He watches as you frantically unlock the door with amusement, smirking to himself about how excited you were. How excited you were to have him as your rebound.

As soon as the door shuts, he goes to speak

“So, what do you-“

You cut him off by jumping his bones. You’d manhandled him, grabbing him by the nape of his neck and forcing his head around to meet you in a rough, wanting kiss. Pressing your body against his. He doesn’t resist, if anything, he complies in record time. He pushes you against the wall, trapping you in with his body as his hands trail down your sides with a firm grasp. His hands rest on your waist, forcefully pulling you into his hips. The kiss was hot, and rough as he damn near shoves his tongue down your throat wanting to taste all of you. Damn, you looked so good. And you tasted just as sweet.

The kiss grew sloppier, the more you incorporated your tongues. Saliva had painted the areas around both of your mouths, the skin glistening in the dim light of your apartment. You hadn’t felt this wanted in a long, long time. His hands continued to roam your body, this time latching onto whatever he can. Whether it be your ass, which he couldn’t stop staring at while you walked in front of him to your apartment. Your chest, that he could not for the life of him break his gaze away from when you spoke to him. Your shoulders, that looked so slender and biteable. Or your face, which was just so exquisite to him.

You kicked off your heels, dropping down to a smaller height. With them on, you were almost his height. With them off, you were just to his shoulder. He stopped for a moment to look at you, his hands raking through your hair gentle as he did so. Taking in just exactly how small you were compared to him. He looked like a man starved, and this just turned you on even more.

“My room is this way.” You tell him, softly, as you begin walking that way. Motioning for him to follow you.

With diligence, he follows you to your bedroom. He looks around for a moment as you go ahead and sit on the bed. It was similar to your living room, in terms of it being kept very neat and tidy and just slightly… empty? You’d told him you were divorced, but from the apartment, it looked almost half done. Like you haven’t filled the space quite yet.

He looks at you on the bed. He bites his lip and lets his gaze rake up and down your body, taking in how good you look sitting there all ready for him. He walks toward you, loosening his tie as he kneels down in front of you. You wonder for a moment what he was planning on doing, but the way he’d looked up at you as he kneeled down told you all you needed to know. He loosened his tie, and unbuttons the first two buttons of his white dress shirt before he traces his hands up your legs, slowly moving to part your inner thighs. You comply, spreading them for him. His fingers trail to your heat, gently spreading around your folds, getting a good look at your lack of panties as well as the slick that was forming there. All for him. “This all for me, baby?” He asks, with a cocky grin. You reply with a nod, biting your lip as you throw your head back. The sensation was too good, and one you went too long without.

His thumb then starts circling your sensitive clit, earning a low groan from you, and your hips squirming ever so slightly, causing him to take his hands and hold your hips in place so that he could get to work. “Let me take care of you, doll.” He says in a gruff, throaty voice before his mouth delves between your legs, giving your cunt a good swipe from bottom to top, before latching his lips onto your anticipating clit. Your jaw hangs slack. The warmth and the sensation from his tongue lapping and his lips sucking on your sensitive clit was almost too much. But, you wanted it. You wanted that release so badly. You wrap a leg over his shoulder and down his back, locking him into his position between your legs where he knelt on the floor before you. Your hand running through his hair, and using your other to support you on the bed. Your eyes went between looking down at him, rolling your eyes back and biting your lip as you watch him go to work on your pussy, and to the ceiling, just when the feeling was getting just too good when you needed to let out a loud, guttural moan that was too intense to contain.

“F-fuuuck.. Shiu- god, your mouth.. f-feels too good..”

He looks up for a moment, detaching his mouth, which let you get a good look at the slick that now painted his entire chin. “Yeah, doll? You like how I eat your pussy?” He says before immediately going back to work, eyes shut and practically pussydrunk as he buries himself into your cunt, going between tongue fucking you and making out with your clit, every so often shaking his face around down there to really savour the taste.

“Y-yeah… y- eat my pussy- s-so good- fuck.. god I’m gonna cum!” You moan out, a bit louder than the rest you’d been letting spill out as your grip on his hair tightens, the leg that ran over his shoulder and down his back stiffening as your head rolls back. You pant, and whine as you reach your mind-blowing orgasm. Coming completely undone in front of him. He can’t help but flick his eyes up, watching what he’s doing to you. His tongue movements go a bit slower, helping you ride out your orgasm before he detaches his lips, tilting his head up to look up at you as he licks his lips clean. A cocky grin forming on his lips, knowing just how damn good he made you feel.

“That feel good, baby?” He asks, his hands grazing up and down your thighs. When you nod, that gives him everything he needed to stand up in front of you, and start undressing himself. “Yeah, well. I’m gonna make you feel even better here in a moment. You gonna be a good girl and take it?”

You look up at him, all doe eyed and curious as he removes his tie, then his dress shirt, and his pants as he throws it all on the floor. “Y-yes-“ you reply to his initial question.

“Yes, what?” He asks. You couldn’t tell what exactly he wanted. Sir? Daddy? Master? “What do you want me to call you?”

He walks over to you, removing his boxers finally. Letting his length spring up and slap his gut. It was big, but not big enough to where you felt like you were going to be in agony tomorrow unable to walk. So, that was promising. He kicks them off, and forcefully grabs you by the jaw to look up at him.

“Sit up straight, baby.” He demands. You didn’t expect that to be what he says, but you comply, fixing your posture as you look up at him.

“Tonight, I want you to call me daddy. Tonight, you’re gonna let daddy use you however he wants. You’re going to obey daddy. You’re going to be daddy’s girl, tonight. That sound good to you?” He asks in a daunting tone, almost like he’s telling the rules to a child. You nod, complying with his demands.

“Get daddy’s cock wet.” He demands, pushing his dick forward into your face. You take his cock in your hand, giving it a pump or two before putting it in your mouth. Letting him bottom out to the back of your throat, you get his cock nice and ready for you. He softly puts his hand in your hair, smirking to himself as he watched you obey him so diligently.

“Yeah, doll.. you know how to do it- yeah.. just like that.. doing so good for me. Such a good girl.” He then pulls your head back, and motions for you to get up further on the bed. You lay yourself down in the center as he positions himself over you.

“Lift your dress up.”

You obey his order, lifting your dress over your head, revealing that you not only weren’t wearing panties, but weren’t wearing a bra either. He tuts as he looks down at your body, letting his hands grab and paw at your bare chest. His thumbs toying with your hard nipples, earning a soft whine from you. “Such a dirty girl. Wearing nothing under that thing you call a dress. You were just begging to get fucked.” He coos as he pinches down on your nipple harder, a small yelp coming from your throat.

You hadn’t realized before, but he still had his tie in hand. You finally noticed once he forcefully grabbed your wrists, and tied them above your head. The tie was nice and tight. Definitely going to leave a mark tomorrow. His hands go back to feeling up your chest, letting the fleshy mounds fill up his hands before..

SMACK!

You let out a quiet moan at the feeling of him slapping your tits. He does it one.. two.. three more times before mumbling to himself. “Dirty, dirty little slut..” your chest felt a bit raw, red from how hard he slapped them around. He sat there and admired his work. A red hand print forming on the side of your breast, causing his cock to twitch with pride.

He then moves down between your legs, positioning his hard, pink tip at your entrance. Swiping it up and down your cunt, slapping it on your clit. “What does baby want? Do you want daddy to fuck you? Do you want daddy to fuck you like the little whore you are? A little whore that goes out naked under her dress?”

You bite your lip so hard it almost draws blood. Your brows knit together, you give him an eager nod.

He looks dissatisfied with your answer, giving your pussy a small slap with his cock. “Words, doll.”

“Y-yes daddy.. please- please fuck me..” you beg and plead, your voice strained and sounding desperate.

Without another word, he slips inside you, completely bottoming out. He lets out a loud groan, his jaw falling open as he pushes himself inside your warm walls. You let out a long, whiny moan, having not expected to feel all of him that fast. It was slightly painful, but it felt damn good.

He starts relentlessly pounding into you, his hand finding solace and support from gripping your wrists above your head, keeping himself upright as he rutted his hips in and out of you.

It was all so much at once. He hadn’t even given you time to properly adjust to his size before he was jackhammering inside of you. Your moans come out, long, and damn they were loud. You were certainly fuelling his ego with just how much you were clearly enjoying it.

“You like it- hnnngh- you like it, doll? You like- you like how daddy fucks you? Ah- tell daddy how much you like it..”

You could hardly think straight. All that ran through your mind were the intense amounts of pleasure that flood through your body, and the sounds that came from it. Your pussy giving pornographic squelches with each thrust of his cock, the lewd slaps of your skin together, the heavy breathing from both parties along with the series of moans. You could hardly formulate a sentence.

“D-daddy- ugh.. daddy f-fffucks me s-so good- AH~!”

The whites of his eyes take over as he hears you say that. He straightens himself up, throwing your legs over his shoulders with much haste before he continues pounding into your pussy. His eyes locked and mesmerized by your facial expressions, the way your tits bounced with every thrust, just how damn good and tight you felt around him.

You’re now screaming his name after he props your legs up, allowing him deeper entry, causing him to hit that sensitive spot that your ex husband couldn’t ever seem to find before.

“S-Shiu- FUCK! HNNNGH-“

He can feel himself reaching his climax, but lord he never wanted this to be over. He wanted to keep fucking you into oblivion. He wanted to keep watching you in the whirls of ecstasy at his cock. It was all over for him when he felt your pussy tighten around him, indicating that you were reaching yours as well.

“D-daddy- I’m gonna cum- I- I’m-“

He shushes you, speaking to you calmly and soothing as opposed to how he was absolutely destroying your insides. “I’m right there too, doll.. ah-“ he winces at he approaches his climax. “I’m gonna cum inside you.. I’m gonna fill you with my seed.. get- get you pregnant.. ah!”

Your back arches, your tied hands coming down onto your stomach as your elbows buckle as you crumble under him for the second time. Drool coming down your chin as you pant and mewl at your orgasm crashing down even harder than the last.

And with that, he was shooting hot silky ropes of cum into your cunt. Fucking it deep inside you as he watches the white substance bunch up around the base of his cock, and leaking down to his balls.

His pace slows down, riding out both of your orgasms. After pulling himself out, he reaches up to untie your wrists, letting you adjust to having it off.

You lie there with your eyes shut, completely breathless after what just happened. It wasn’t until you hear the jingling of his belt before your eyes opened up to see him getting dressed.

“Wh-what are you doing?” You ask, trying to not sound desperate.

“I’m not too interested in just being a rebound, doll. But, if you decide I’m just too good to have as just a rebound..” he digs around in his pocket for a moment, before handing you a business card with his phone number on it. ‘Shiu Kong - Formal Handler’

You wondered what formal handler meant. But, before you could ask, he was bidding you goodbye and making his grand exit. You lay there, dumbfounded at how quickly that turned around. Did you just get ‘you-ed’ by this guy..?

It took days of consideration and replaying the events of that night in your mind over and over, before you called him.

Thanks for reading!!! This is my first fic I’m posting on here so pleaaase be nice, but also if you have any constructive criticism I’m SO open to it. Thanks!

[sinnabarmoth]

Tribute for the Dragon (15/18)

Pairing: Dragon|Sylus x Fem|Reader

Summary: With the rut drawing to a close, you and Sylus look to the future for what this means for you both.

Content Warnings: Adult language. Minor breeding kink. P in V.

Length: 3k

Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (16)

Read on AO3

You soon realized that dragon ruts were not for the faint of heart. The next week of your life was the most exhausted you had ever been. Every single day, multiple times a day, Sylus found you wherever you were and fucked you within an inch of your life. He had cooled off a little, able to push aside the lustful haze to offer you some respite the longer it went on.

But that first day had been the most feral he had gotten. You hadn’t left the hoard room until late into the evening and that was just because you absolutely needed more food than what he scrounged up from the kitchen between rounds. Thankfully the entire rut didn’t need to take place in the hoard room so you at least got the cushion of the bed back to make things a little more comfortable.

You were also shocked at how sweet he was during the whole thing. Despite how rough things got and how filthy he spoke, he would always be there to help ease you back down. And if you really didn’t want to have sex, if you were just too sore for anymore he didn’t push you.

In between rounds you’d lay together and talk about what your future child was going to be like. “And you’re sure I’m not going to end up laying an egg?”

Sylus chuckled. “Yes. You won’t lay an egg.”

“But the woman who birthed you--”

“Was cursed and her womb magically altered to be able to lay a dragon egg. You are not cursed and because I am at least half human you should have a normal live birth.” Sylus assured you, “Although, the state of the baby is uncertain.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, when I was born I looked almost entirely human except for my eyes and as I got older the scales and tail and horns grew in. The children will most likely be the same way. But I do not know what all they may grow. Some might have horns and tails and wings and scales, others may not. Maybe one grows horns and scales but no tail. Maybe another grows wings but no claws. I cannot say for sure.”

“At least I don’t have to worry about little claws or horns complicating things when they come out.” you touched your stomach. You looked back at him. “Do you want to try one more time?”

His smile sharpened. “You bounced back quick this time. Alright then, come here.” He sat up in the bed. He pulled you across his lap, your back pressed to his chest.

He receded the armor around his hands with a small groan. “Sylus, I know it hurts you don’t have to--”

“I want to be able to play with your pussy a little before hand. The pain is temporary and not important.” he dipped his now clawless hand between your legs, the soft pad of his fingers swirling over your clit.

You reclined your head back on his shoulder as little blips of pleasure heated your body. “That’s it,” he said, “Always so responsive to me.”

He removed his hand from your pussy and sucked the juices from his fingers. You whined at the loss but you only got a dark chuckle in response. “Do not worry, little bird. You’ll get my hand and much more back in a minute. But right now, I need you to do something.”

He caressed your arms and lifted them up and behind you before curling them around his horns. “Hold onto these while I play with you and do not let go. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” he sighed, feeling how tightly you were gripping his horns.

You thought he was going to go back to your pussy but instead he moved slowly, his hands gliding up and down your body at a lazy pace. He traced every dip and curve with his hands as if memorizing every inch of your body by touch alone. His mouth kissed down the column of your neck and to your shoulders. When his mouth landed on the faint mark of your mating bite he suck his teeth into your soft exposed skin. Arousal pooled between your legs as he continued to caress and tease you.

You could feel him getting hard underneath you. The hard ridge of flesh was hot and curved back to rest on your folds. You tried to grind against it but he pulled your hips back to keep them still. “Not yet.” his breath was hot in your ear, “I want you ready to burst when I put it in.”

He continued to strum your body, plucking at your most sensitive spots but without any of the relief you sought. It seemed wholly unfair that he could be so patient during a rut. Wasn’t he supposed to throw you to the bed and fuck you until you were screaming in a fit of lust filled rage? How come he was teasing you?

“Someone’s pouting.” he turned your face to his. “What do you want, little bird? What can I do to make that frown go away.”

“You can put your dick in me. That’d be a nice start.” you batted your eyelashes at him. “Please master?”

“Calling me master while I’m in rut,” he growled, biting your neck again. “Do you think that a wise decision?”

“I think it’ll get me what I want.” you smirked. “So please, will you put your dick in me and breed my pussy, master?”

“That dirty trick won’t work forever.” Sylus muttered angrily as he lifted your hips up.

“I just need it to work now.”

“Becoming my mate made you such a brat.” he hissed as he lowered you down onto his cock. “There, you have your precious dick snug in that tight little pussy. If you want it bred though, you have to work for it.”

“But--”

“You expect your master to do all the work? That’s what you’re here for. Now get moving but don’t move your hands. Keep them wrapped around my horns.” he cupped your breasts and pinched and pulled at your nipples.

You began shaking your hips, pulling yourself up and down on his lap. His cock slid against your walls, sending bursts of ecstasy into your brain while he played with your breasts. He had sufficiently worked you up enough that you felt like you could come right then.

“You feel so good, wildfire.” he moaned into your neck. “This is exactly where I want you forever. Fucking yourself on my cock, trying to make me come. Cause that’s what you want, right? You want me to come. You want me to come inside you and breed this pretty pussy of yours?”

“Yes!” you clamped down on him tighter. “Yes Sylus! I want it! I need it!”

“I know you do.” he groaned, drawing in a sharp breath as you sped up. “You make me wanna come, wildfire. Just keep bouncing yourself on my dick.”

One of his hands trailed down your stomach and found your clit, adding to the sensations that were already overloading your body. “I won’t come until you do.” he said. “So if you want my cum you have to come for me, wildfire. Come on you master’s cock and he’ll give you what you want. What you need.”

“Ha…ha…ah fuck!” you forced your hips to move faster, chasing a release so close yet just out of reach. Your hands were cramping holding onto Sylus’s horns. The tighter you held them the heavier his breathing got.

“Sylus…” you whimpered. You were so close. “Sylus please!”

“Right here. I’m right here.” he craned your head back to kiss you. “You can do it. Just come for me.” he rubbed your clit faster, his other hand squeezed your breast.

“Sylus!” you moaned against his lips as you both came. He smothered the moan with another kiss, panting against your lips.

“So good. You are so fucking good, wildfire.” he pressed a kiss to your jaw.

Your arms fell to your sides as you relaxed against him. He rubbed at your shoulders, relieving the ache that had grown there. He moved you back so you were laying side by side on the bed again.

You took several deep breaths to center yourself, grounding yourself by nuzzling into Sylus’s chest. “Hey, not that this hasn’t been a lot of fun but how much longer is this rut going to last? I’m getting exhausted.”

Sylus rolled his eyes. “You were the one that tackled me into bed this morning, not the other way around.” he reminded you. “I think you forget that your libido is just as bad, if not worse than mine can be.”

“Fine. I admit it. But really, do you think we’re any closer to knowing if I’m pregnant or not?” you stared up at him with wide eyes.

“Oh my sweet little bird,” he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “If you had let me speak this morning instead of dragging me back into bed I would have been able to tell you that you already are.”

“What?”

“You’re pregnant. I could smell the change this morning. That’s why I originally came in here. I was going to tell you after you had a chance to wake up a little more.” he was smiling the widest you had ever seen him.

“I’m really…” tears sprang to your eyes. “We’re going to have a baby?”

“Yes, we are.”

You wrapped your arms tight around his neck. It was happening! It was really happening!

Oh gods it was happening…you were…with a… You were going to give birth to a little dragon baby. Oh gods. This was actually happening! It wasn’t just a fun roleplay in bed. It was real. You had a little dragon growing in your womb.

“You look panicked. Are you alright?” Sylus asked. “I thought you’d be happy.”

“I am! I am ridiculously happy!” you assured him. “I’m also kinda terrified. In a few months we’re going to have a baby. We’re going to be parents and be in charge of another life. I mean, how do we even do that?”

“We’ll figure it out.”

With your pregnancy confirmed the rut wore off. You were thankful for the respite but now your mind was filled with nothing but preparations for the baby. You weren’t even showing yet and all you could do was make lists of things that needed done.

“Where is the baby going to sleep?” You asked Sylus one afternoon as you sat at the kitchen table, a list of things that needed done in front of you. At the top of the list was make a nursery.

“I suspect they’ll sleep in our room until they’re old enough to move them to their own room. There’s a lot of empty rooms in the mountain. We can fit a whole brood of hatchlings in here.” he kissed the top of your head and went about grabbing a bowl of stew from the large pot over the fire.

“A brood? Exactly how many kids do you want to pump into me?”

“I was thinking at least six or more.” he said with a shrug.

“Six!” you shouted.

“My ideal is nine since it’s a lucky number.” he took in your dumbstruck expression. “What?”

“You are insane if you think I’m going to birth nine kids.” you couldn’t even comprehend having a family that large. “I’ll give you three.”

“Seven.”

Was he haggling the number of kids you were going to have? Fine then. “Maybe four.”

“Five?”

“Four.”

“Alright, four.” he set another bowl of stew done for you. “Make sure to finish that. You’re eating for two now.”

“I know.” you set the list aside. “I need to go into town and do some shopping later, as well as tell my father and friends the news.”

“I’ll take you down whenever you’re ready. Are you nervous at all about telling them?”

“A little. It’s only recently that father came around to you and I’m not sure how he’s going to react. I hope he’ll be happy with the idea of being a grandfather at least.”

“You’re giving him his first grandchild, he’ll be thrilled no matter what.” Sylus assured you.

You grabbed some coins from the hoard room and left with Sylus for the village. Your first stop was to find your father and tell him the news. Sylus walked with you to the house but stayed in the background as you talked to your father. Your father was shocked at first but was soon smiling and congratulating you and Sylus both on your upcoming bundle of joy.

“I’ll have to get started working then.” he said, “I’m going to make a mobile for you to hang over the crib.”

“That sounds wonderful, father. Thank you.” you hugged him again. “I actually came into town to commission the woodworker for the cradle as well as buy some fabric and yarn to make baby clothes. I also need to find Tara and tell her. I know she’s going to be thrilled too.”

“That she will be. Congratulations, sweet pea. I can’t wait to meet them when they’re born.” he gave you a kiss on the cheek and you were on your way.

You left to run your other errands. Sylus was still by your side, looming in the corner wherever you went like a shadow. The village had really come to like him but he was still rather uncomfortable with the attention. He looked like he was going to fly away when you told Tara the news about your pregnancy and had given Sylus a huge hug in her excitement. She had promised to do a reading for your pregnancy as soon as possible and tell her mother so she could make you a perfect baby blanket for the little one.

Your last stop after the fabric shop was the woodworker to commission the cradle. There were some other people there that saw you come in with Sylus and froze. The woodworker looked up though and smiled. “Ah, what can I do for you today?”

“Hello, I came with a very special request. Mind you, I won’t need it for a couple months so take your time but what I really need is a cradle.”

“A cradle?” the woodworker smiled. “Oh my dear girl, you’re having a baby?”

“Yes. Yes I am.”

“Another mighty dragon in the village. What wonderful news.” the woodworker called to Sylus, “How big of a baby do we need to plan for?”

“A regular sized cradle should be fine.” Sylus said. “They shouldn’t be much different from a human baby.”

Sylus looked to his side where a man that had been waiting in the shop was staring at him. You didn’t recognize him immediately but it was a decent sized village, you didn’t have every face memorized. Sylus didn’t seem to appreciate the man’s staring and glared at him. “Do you have something to say to me?”

The man shook his head and took off. While most people in the village were used to Sylus there were some who still didn’t entirely trust him. It was an inevitability but hopefully in the years to come everyone would come to recognize him not as a threat but as a neighbor.

Once everything was done and finished you stopped by to say a final goodbye to your father and returned to the mountain.

You set what you had bought down and started getting preparations ready for dinner. While you were cooking you kept hearing Sylus walking back and forth past the kitchen. What was he doing now? While dinner simmered over the fire you went out to find him.

It was then that you noticed there was a carpet under your feet. That definitely hadn’t been there before. Where had it come from? And there were more carpets! They made a trail down the corridor and into your bedroom. Sylus was in there unrolling another carpet and layering it with the others.

“What are you doing? Where’d all the carpet come from?”

“Ah, yes,” he stood up, “I got to thinking that when the baby is born it’d be best if they had something soft to crawl around on so I’ve been finding whatever rugs I could from the hoard room and laid them out. I may also need to go around the walls and smooth them out so if they run into them they don’t get cut.”

It was endearing watching him worry and fret about how to make the mountain safer for your baby. You hadn’t even been pregnant a month and he was already doing so much. You walked up to him, your feet squishing against the plush carpet, and hugged him. “I’m so glad that our baby is going to have you as a father. I really am.”

His arms closed around you. “I’m the lucky one, really. To have a child with you. Knowing that this child is going to have you as their mother.” he knelt down, his face inches from your stomach. “Your mother is so good, little one. And I am going to love and protect you both for the rest of my life. I swear, nothing bad will ever happen to you so long as I draw breath.”

He kissed your stomach. You ran your hands through his hair, holding him there as he rested his head against you. “I can’t wait to meet our little one too.”

[deluluass]

Reception: Squid Game AU

Content warnings: rape/noncon; canon typical violence; pregnant sex; mommy kink (kinda?)

[ANON PROMPT: The dynamic between player 388 and 322—the former protecting naive vulnerable pregnant you in the games, thinking of him as your reliable “brother” but unfortunately, he wants something more between you two.]

"What- what if," you choke. "What if they make us kill each other?"

Thick layers of tulle burn against your scabbed knees. The gown isn't made of starchy fabric, like the ones they sell at the flea market for half a price because it tends to itch anyway, but it still stings every time you move and graze your barely healed wounds. So you don't.

You sit still, not even letting your spine touch the wooden vines intricately carved on the back of the chair. The delicate cream lace spanning along your chest to your wrists might as well have been worn by a corpse for all the breathing that you do. 

You don't even touch your food.

Bokuto, on the other hand, is ravenous. 

Sitting on the opposite side of the long table, he tears through chicken leg, then venison, then the boiled potatoes. He chews and chews and washes it all down with wine, chugging noisily as it drips past the edge of his mouth.  

"They won't," he finally replies before wiping his chin with the back of his hand. You pass him your table napkin even though he's yet to use his, absently reminding him to keep his elbows off the table unless he wants ragu all over his suit.

He follows you, but not without a toothy beam and a, "Seriously, trust your big bro, 'kay? This is our last meal in this hell hole, so just relax– relax ! And eat!"

Big bro . You snort. He really knows how to lighten the mood, this guy. 

"Alright," you sigh, not quite slouching. "What do they want us to do then?"

"What they want?" Bokuto tilts his head, like he's really thinking about it, as he picks at his molars with the tip of his tongue. "Well, they wanna be entertained."

It was a rhetorical question. You don't tell him that. You'd long lost the urge to actually ask him how he knows what he knows about the games, having learned much earlier that it's better to just shut up and do what he says, because between the two– asking or following, that has been the only choice that has kept you alive.

You didn't ask why he had to stop you from picking the pyramid. You didn't ask why he had   to make you hide and sleep under his bunker at night. And you certainly didn't ask why he had to bash that man's head when he could've just easily pushed him out of the door.

Repeatedly. As if that first one didn't already do that man in. Smack, smack, smack, until he'd sprayed blood and bits of white-pink flesh onto the cheery, lemonade walls. 

He could say that the man wouldn't have left on his own, even though you both heard the room next to yours desperately searching and shrieking for another player to meet the count. He could even say that he'd done it because the man had grabbed and tried to drag you out first, that if it hadn't been him then it would've been you: you and your bits all over those walls, but, still, why –

"Hey."

You look up. 

Bokuto was staring at you. Irises ablaze, cheery lemonade under the crystal chandelier. 

“Eat,” he says, eyes smiling, all teeth, blood splattered lemons. “You hafta eat.”  

Holding your utensils with trembling fingers, “Junior’s havin’ a tantrum in there,” Bokuto suddenly taunts, pointing at your stomach with a parfait spoon. 

Your jaw drops. 

To hell with your anxiety. You prioritize making a face at him.  

“ Mommy, mommy ,” he cries in response, cackling, pitching his voice up and making you groan. “ Stop being so stubborn! I’m so sick of the rice balls! I want ham now! Waaa! Ham!”

“Idiot.” You grin through the first bites of pasta. “She could be a girl.”

“Then hurry up ‘n eat!” Bokuto slams his fist on the table. “Eat so we can scram outta here. Baby girl has got a princess' life to live!” 

Glass and ceramics clatter, prompting the masked guards to bark a warning. Both of you stifle a chortle, leaning forward into each other and shifting in your seats like reprimanded fourth graders.

You finish your plate one morsel at a time, rubbing your bump as you do. It’s paste and wet scrap paper in your mouth, but you force yourself to swallow. He wouldn't stop looking at you if you didn't. He was right anyway. You do need to be more mindful of the baby, especially after everything you've been through.

Then, reaching for your drink, the folded napkin next to your plate glints. You gnash your teeth. That's why you’d asked him. Because if you weren't there to shove that thing at each other’s necks, then what in the world were you supposed to do now? 

Just…eat?

“Bo-kun,” you mutter. He pauses from scraping vanilla out of a crystal bowl. “They gave us a knife, you know.”

“Hm?” 

You know he heard you. 

“A knife. We both have a knife.”

“So what?” The thin stem of his spoon clangs with a bite. 

Same set of teeth that could rip and spit out a grown man’s ear like watermelon seed. It was dark and the lights were flashing, but you saw . 

“Hm? You gonna kill me?” 

Stocky gray brows clash in confusion. You think that this is the last thing field mice see when they come into contact with a barn owl. He pops the strawberry in his mouth.

And before you know it, he blurs out of view, and you sniffle and feel the overwhelming need to hide your face.

Bokuto leaves his seat. The guards close in on him.

“Shit, hey, man, look– I’m not doin’ anything funny– look , I’m not– fuck .” He goes around the table to your side, panting slightly as he bends down and props his hand on his thighs.

“Hey, don't cry, don't cry,” he murmurs softly. “I’m sorry, got my foot stuck in my mouth. You know your big bro. I’m a freakin’ airhead, yeah? I was being a fool, shoulda been more sensitive given your- you know-” drawing an imaginary (far too large) arch over his tummy, “-situation.”

Your sobs stumble into giggles. He drops to his knee, the other supporting his arm, as he sighs and glides a large hand over his gel-slick hair. Bokuto shakes his head.

There was once a time in your life when you would’ve given everything in the world just to see something like this. Be in something like this. Praying for your ex to, one day, come home and finally– after all that you’d sacrificed for him, offer this to you.

Man in a dapper suit on bended knee. The pretty white gown. Food that only the rich people in your phone could indulge in. Hundreds of roses in full bloom that it boggles the mind.

Life has a way of giving you what you want: wrapped and tied with a big, fat knee-slapper. 

Well, whatever happens now, it finally got the reaction that it’s been asking for. 

You laugh. 

“Gosh.” You wipe your tears. “We look so weird. Is that the game? Eat while looking like.. like this without breaking. In that case, we lost, Bo-kun.”

He doesn't seem to agree. And he's not laughing with you now.

You don't know if you like that he’s not. It doesn't look right. He even laughs with his thumbs pressed to a living, breathing human being’s sockets.

“I’m not with you on that one.” Bokuto shrugs. “I think you look beautiful.”

“Ugh, don’t make me cry again.”

“Wha- at ? It's true.”

He’s still kneeling. The idiot.

“You too,” you sniff, hand out to fix his bow. “You look beautiful too.”

You feel your smile wobble. Now, he's the one who’s on the verge of tears, but the moment is interrupted by the sudden glow of the tile under his oxfords.

Heart in your throat, you watch wordlessly as the one behind it follows. Then another. And another. Once translucent, some of the tiles now form a warm orange path leading to a–

“That a pond ?” Bokuto chirps.

This is it. The guards start to flank you. Bokuto helps you stand. Warm hand spans your waist, guiding you to your destination. 

This is it, you believe. This is where you die.

The baby.

You halt. “It's okay,” Bokuto whispers. “I’m with you.”

The path does not lead you to another arena. 

There, water trickles. Out of nowhere, unseen strings play a sweet, languorous melody. 

Light shines down on the middle of the pond, revealing a broad, rounded grassy meadow. Flowers, real ones, have sprung along its circumference, almost like it's a fancy cake. 

All that's missing are the–

Beside you, Bokuto takes off his dress shoes. You’re about to ask him what he's doing but seeing the couple of feet going to the center, you remove yours too. 

The pond is nice and cool when you dip into it. Tiny fishes brush your ankles as you wade through the water. You carry the skirt to your calves, tail end still managing to get soaked, while Bokuto holds you close all throughout.

You land on a marshmallow field. The grass is plush, and you try your best not to give in to the temptation of just lying down, wiggling your toes through the trim, pillowy blades instead. The light pulls your eyes to the ceiling.

You gasp.

They’ve poked a massive hole through it. Above your heads, wispy clouds drift along the bright, open sky. There are migratory birds forming a V in the distance. 

“Bo-kun, look…!” 

You twine your fingers together, pulling him to you. His are much longer, firmer than yours. 

He is looking. Just not in the same direction as you.

When you meet his gaze, neither one of you could have prevented the other from being reduced into tearful, boisterous laughter. The music rises higher and higher, like those birds flying out of reach, and you recognize it as the same one folks usually play when the bride marches down the aisle.

“I guess… we dance?”

Bokuto whistles. “I thought you’d never ask.”

He is warm, Bokuto. If you could make a home out of this, you would. He spins you around, gently, causing you to wheeze. “You’re such a sap,” you tell him with a grin.

“Mhm”

A syrupy kind of ache seeps from deep within you as he sways you in his arms. Treacly sugar and cloying, like the junk you’d stuff into your mouth when you were a kid and making silver bands out of soda pull-tabs; veils out of moth-eaten blankets. It gathers at the bottom of your heart, sticking to its fragile walls and reminding you that there’d been nothing worthwhile to fill it with ever since you turned your body into a work machine. 

Not until that day, sitting inside a cubicle that other women had also lined up for, as you stare at the test that’d come out with two, undeniable pink lines.

When the music fades, you convince yourself that it’s perfectly normal to be overtaken by panic. Because, what now? Is this the part where they blare their instructions through the intercom? What will it take? A knife? A shove? The one that falls off the edge dies and the last one standing wins? What ? 

You search for the guards, only to find them at the edges of the room, shrouded in darkness.

“Bokuto Kotaro,” you gasp. “That- that is your actual name, right?”

He looks at you like you’ve sprouted another leg. But, picking up on the hurried cadence of your voice, he says nothing and runs a comforting palm on your back. His gaze softens, before stooping down to touch your forehead with his.

Your eyes flutter close. 

“I would never lie to you,” he answers. 

You nod. 

His breath scorches to the point of being feverish. Worry besets you when he suddenly releases a stabbed groan, thinking maybe he’d been sick this whole time and just didn’t tell you.

“Are you okay? Bo-kun, talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“S’nothing,” he rumbles, leaving a brief, soft peck on your cheek. 

Your breath hitches. 

Then, he goes for your lips. 

“What the hell–” you cry, turning away, but he manages to capture it in his, molding them together, moaning at your taste. You feel it reverberate inside the caverns of your mouth. He glides his tongue inside, sliding over yours, and, not for the first time, you begin to wish that this is something that would be over if you could only just wake up . 

It doesn’t, however. And you don’t.

You stay here, in this moment, with Bokuto’s kisses trailing down your neck. He laps at your sweat, then traces the tender spot that makes you gasp and buckle.

“H-hold on, Bo-kun– wait– Bokuto, stop…! ”

You wriggle out of his arms. He grabs tighter. 

“Shh, shh , it’s what they want,” Bokuto murmurs, the bridge of his nose nudging your chin. “They want a good show. We gotta give it to ‘em. Gotta get outta here.”

To your horror, the man has already bunched your gown in his hands. You feel a squall trapped in your throat as the calloused tips of his fingers move, creeping like vines between your legs.

“No, no, no, please– ”

He touches you through your cotton panties, rubbing your clit as something hot and hard bump against your leg. “This won't take long,” he grunts. “Been like this ever since you came out lookin’ like that. So lovely. My lovely, lovely wife.”

You’re brought down to the grass, carefully, even with all your pleading and squirming. Tulle piles at your waist like a cloud as Bokuto sets you on your side. He’s spooning you, one large arm trapped underneath your torso, supporting your head, as he bucks his cock between your ass and rambles madly into your ear.

“We’ll get hitched for real after this, alright? Take care of you– Gonna make more so they're not lonely– Won’t ever, ever leave you like that motherfucker , you hear me, darlin’? This one's mine now too, got it?”

He’s grasping softly at your bump like somebody might steal it from him. Your child. Your baby.

You shake your head, sobbing, but he doesn't hear you, too rapt picking at the lace covering your chest with his other hand. Without a warning, he rips it apart.

The air is ice cold on your breasts. You hiss out in pain. 

Bokuto guffaws. “ Fuck me. ”

He cups them slowly, his heated, wet gasp hitting your nape. Goosebumps rise all over skin. He’s giggling like a child, and you have never feared him more in your life.

“They're really swollen, aren't they?”

You whimper, pushing your ass back into his cock in surprise, the hardened thickness of it rubbing snugly into your clothed pussy. Layers of fabric separate you from each other, but you realize, terrified, that the gusset of your panties are now becoming wetter, and wetter, as he groans and grinds his hips, calling you sweetheart, darlin’, baby . Saying please as if he's not already taking from you. 

He brushes your nipples with his fingers. You claw at his wrists, fingers digging into his corded by veins, but he doesn't even budge. 

“Bo– too much– ”

You wail as he starts tweaking them. It zaps through your entire body. Live current straight to your core, your eyes rolling to the back of your head and drowning the world in white. You think you’ve kicked his shins. That only makes him gyrate more fervently into your cunt.

“Fuck, these tits ,” he sucks in, practically inhaling your cheek. “These perfect fuckin’ tits. I dreamt about ‘em the moment I laid eyes– Oh my god, I wanted to grab ‘em so fuckin’ bad. Could see your nipples poking through in this dress- almost went nuts–”

Bokuto squeezes them together, sluggish and deliberate, oohing and aahing as he kneads them apart, then squeezes them together, and pinches your nipples. You don't know if he's being mindful or if he wants to savor your humiliation at being manhandled. With him, it's probably both. 

“Can't wait till they get so heavy with milk– Gonna help you– Gonna suck it out for you like a good husband should– I can't wait anymore–”

Zipper comes undone behind you. 

You thrash out. Bokuto tuts as he pins you to him. 

“Careful, mommy,” he coos, his fingers pulling your soaked panties to the side. “Don't move too much. Don't wanna hurt you.”

The tip of his cock stretches your pussy lips, fat head dripping, sliding back and forth into your hole. 

“Oh…! Bokuto, no, no..!” He pushes in and you already feel like bursting. His thrusts start shallow, not even shoving half of him, but then they stop staying shallow, and you cringe as you feel him edging close inside. “Not too deep p-please, please, the baby– not too deep not too deep not–”

You’re bawling, almost tasting your snot as you grasp at his arms, and all he does is laugh .

“M’sorry. Too big? You're alright. Won't go too deep. Promise.” 

He does keep his promise in the end, oscillating between “ please, please, wanna fuck you so bad” and “can't, can't, can't ” until he's growling nonsense; until he's no longer recognizable from the man who’d called himself your big brother, his hold on you dangerously close to choking you into unconsciousness. 

“ You feel so fuckin’ good, ” he mumbles fervently as he twitches inside you. “ So fuckin’ good you're such a good mommy we’re gonna be mommy ‘n daddy soon I love you so much I love you I love you I love you– ”

The pressure builds like water– the higher it rises the faster you sink, as you spasm and contract around him, then falling apart in the dark without a single sound. 

You finally open your eyes as you feel him shoot thick ropes inside you. Bokuto thrusts his cum, making sure it doesn't spill out, he says, and you turn to the sky. 

It's gotten dimmer, you think. 

Wispy clouds drift along. Migratory birds flying into a V in the distance. And you wonder if god has many faces, and if, maybe, they're all grinning down at you.

  –

The first game ends with a card.

Bokuto buys everything he’s ever wanted. He dines at the places where everything’s pint sized and complicated to eat. He gets fast cars and even faster motorbikes that almost kill him. He gets himself limited edition sneakers. He gets himself a model and a stripper and an actress and someone who's all three.

He goes around the world and dives out of a moving plane and does everything that makes his blood sing, then he comes back home and he buys himself a place that has a pool and a jacuzzi and a court and a private theater and a game room and when he's alone at night he thinks about the people he stole it all from and he throws up in his big, big, brand spanking new house. 

  –

The second game ends with an invitation given to him in the limo going back, which he turns down because, “ Your mask is creepy, dude. I’m not wearing that .”

He doesn't know why he came back, even when he finds out, eventually, why they allowed him to. The last dinner was shared between Bokuto and two other people– a man and a woman, both older than him, both ex-military. It gargles out of them, after Bokuto has them under his knees, that they've been here before too, just like him.

Their audience is getting bored, Bokuto figures. 

He returns to that big, empty house wealthier than before and with a clearer idea on what he wants to buy next. 

He may know jack shit about the specifics of putting his money into things that can double it, but Bokuto knows a lot about deals. He knows how to smile at the people that look at him and only see another set of limbs that’ll keep their plates full. The rooms may be different this time around, nicer and with a lot less killing, but it's all still the same game. He knows about luck and getting a crowd going and most of all he knows a lot about hunger. 

So he gets himself a seat at the tables that he never even would’ve been allowed to get close to all those years ago. He gets himself teams that have molded their bodies into playing games, big ones where luck and crowds and hunger flow like blood off gutted arteries. And he doesn't really have to, but he gets and handpicks the players himself, because he knows best the kind of animal that possesses the audacity to stand in the middle of any court, any arena, any stadium, and bring its spectators– every last insatiable one of them, on their feet.

And as he watches from the sidelines, he imagines a world where the circumstances are different and everything goes as planned and survival does not have to come at the cost of destroying yourself. And he imagines that in that world, it is him– Bokuto Kotaro, that hits the ball and makes the score and brings the crowd to its feet. 

  –

The third game ends with an encrusted ring in the pocket of his suit. 

It takes a couple more years until the audience gets bored again. He comes back mostly because, well, why not?  It's not so bad, playing.

The kicker this time around is that most, if not all, of the players are of the same breed as Bokuto– animals who have the strength to get whatever they want and the desire to get it however they want. 

Except for you.

You come waddling to Bokuto with your head down, hands over your belly, and jacket zipped up to your chin like a hen protecting herself from the cold. 

The cutest little thing to have ever existed.

You ask him if you could join Bokuto’s team because, of course, nobody wants you. The woman next to him– the first one who manages to put a scratch on Bokuto much later in the game, says that he shouldn't, because she could tell that you’re at least six weeks pregnant and you’ll hold them back and no good mother would ever put herself in this kind of situation in the first place. 

Bokuto keeps you anyway. 

Pregnant girl. All on her own. Nobody to rely on. Somebody’s gotta look out for you, he decides.

After that game, he knows that he made the right choice. You’ve got blisters on your palms from all the rope pulling and you’re thanking him for saving your life. He tells you not to sweat it, and to call him Bokuto from now on. 

You say, “Okay, Bo-kun,” while caressing your bump, pretty eyes begging him to protect you and guide you and put another one inside you, and that’s when it dawns on Bokuto–

He's the only thing standing between you and this world’s bottomless stomach. 

And ever since then Bokuto just couldn’t stop thinking, “ What will happen to you if he's no longer there?” So he runs faster, and strikes even harder, and, for the first time in a long while, he feels like all of this– running, hitting, staying alive – now, isn't it all just so much fun ?

Bokuto smiles at the memory as he fishes out the ring from his pocket, then tosses it to the other side of the pond.

“You’re not keeping it?” Game master guy’s words filter through his mask, stripping it of all feeling.

It kinda bums him out. For all he knows the dude might actually be sad that there's not going to be a fourth time.

“Not her type,” Bokuto tells him. “Diamond’s too freakin’ large, man. Could poke somebody's eyes out.”

He closes his fly, dusts off the blazer to cover you with it, then carries you in his arms. There's a ceaseless drumming in his chest that only gets louder seeing you sound asleep, tucked safely into his chest. He doesn't even bother with combing his hair.

The pink dudes have got their guns ready behind game master guy, index to the trigger. Bokuto wets his lips, and he doesn't miss the way they all flinch. 

“It's a shame, Player 388. Our valued guests were looking forward to your proposal.” 

That makes him snort. “Tell ‘em I said sorry.”

“Quite unnecessary,” he says. “We should be thanking you. You always deliver.” 

“Yeah, well, not really hard to put two and two together.” 

Fancy ring. Suit. Gown that still gives him a boner looking at you in it. Bokuto might be a genius.

The pond soaks his slacks again as he walks through it. He frowns. You won't like that. Bokuto ignores his socks since Game master guy accidentally kicked the other pair into the water with his big feet. Bokuto wears his shoes without them, itching for a shower that’ll scald the grime off of him. And you. 

A nice, hot shower with you. Now, that's heaven–

Game master guy doesn't move out of the way, though. He doesn't budge even as Bokuto very politely says, “‘Scuse.”

Bokuto then looks at him. He looks and he laughs. And he dares them.

He stands there with the mother of his children in his arms and begs, “Go on. Do something fuckin’ funny .”

They part for him. 

“The offer still stands,” comes from Game master guy.

“Dude,” Bokuto whines, not even looking back. “Just tell me you’ll miss me like a normal person!” 

    –

The house feels warmer when he returns. It feels smaller, too, which he does not mind at all, especially now that there's a happy family of three to fill it. 

[h-sleepingirl]

Hi!

I've been participating in the hypnosis world for about a year only as a subject, with somebody's audio files I've grown to enjoy. Being relatively... intelligent? (ADHD former "gifted kid" stereotype,) I've loved the way it can be so calming to my head which often has thoughts racing left and right with no end.

Your latest post about being a wizard with tomes piqued my interest and I would love to learn more and be one myself, especially in regards to Erickson who I had no knowledge of prior to today. Where would you recommend I start...? I would love to DM you and chat if the response would otherwise be too vague and long to be a reply to anon :)

Excellent to hear! I’ll give you some recommended reading and info. (And thanks for asking in my inbox, because this may help others!)

Milton Erickson was a hypnotherapist active in the 1900s who helped shape the form of modern hypnosis. There are many mythology-type stories about him. He really pioneered non-authoritative hypnosis (like, not “You will go into trance now!”), and hypnosis where he considered each client individually in order to figure out the best hypnotic method for them (this is the most critical thing and we still need to learn from it IMO). He’s known for some distinct techniques including storytelling and indirect language, although how those work and what they are depends on who you ask. He was a major inspiration for Neuro-Linguistic Programming, which takes inspiration from him but really changes a lot.

If you are just starting to learn how to hypnotize another person, I would not recommend STARTING with Erickson’s direct works (I mean feel free to read about the guy, just don't try to fight through his writing yet) -- but I don’t think you have to wait too long, especially if you have some experience as a subject. I would highly recommend reading a VARIETY of “intro to erotic hypnosis” guides -- there are a bunch, and as you’ll see, everyone teaches them differently. That’s because there are MANY ways of looking at how to do hypnosis and what it even is. Keep that in mind as you explore. I would like to offer my own guide: https://www.learnhypnokink.com/ in which I do try to teach a more overarching perspective that should be useful for learning other perspectives, and especially useful for progressing past beginner level.

Reading is great and if you only ever want to read that is fine, but a lot comes from experience, too. I don’t have recommendations for finding people to play with -- just remember that as a hypnotist, you have boundaries too, and you do not have to let yourself be used as a “trance vending machine” by eager subjects.

In terms of Erickson, take a look at his Wikipedia page or articles about him to get the gist of his character and history -- fascinating stories about him. And then when you want to try, read “Hypnotic Realities”, by him and his student Ernst Rossi. This is THE definitive Erickson book. I would not recommend reading books ABOUT "Ericksonian hypnosis" first -- anything talking ABOUT Erickson really tends to transform the meat of what he's trying to communicate IMO. Read from the source first. “Hypnotic Realities” is the greatest book on hypnosis of all time in my opinion, but it’s dense and challenging. It’s also beautifully subtle and you should plan to reread it ever so often because you will get new things out of it at different places along your journey.

Good luck! I hope this helps you and anyone else curious!

[obsessivestar]

'What If It's All A RomCom?' a Ted Nivison x Reader (Lemon)

{{-This might be the longest fucking chapter I've ever written for anything ever so please enjoy LMAO also gif made by me-}}

//General Warnings: 18+ (MINORS DNI FUCK OFF), Reader is implied to be afab and under 5'5. She/They pronouns used.\\

//Chapter Warnings: More Rainforest Cafe, references to old chapters including smut from chapter 6. Oh also smut here LMAO. Semi-public sex, reader played with, dirty talk, articles of clothing ripped, how many warnings do you want before I give the whole scene away--\\

Word Count: 7.4k fuck

☆▪︎▪︎▪︎Taglist!▪︎▪︎▪︎☆

@k-k0129 , @callsign-scully , @limecorpse & @hyper-fixation-nation-13

☆Love Ya To Death!☆

Chapter 18: A Left Turn

We spend a lot of time inside the Rainforest Cafe, mostly because it took quite a bit of time to be served. We got our drinks fairly quickly, but Dan and Joe were having a hard time deciding what to have to eat so our server left us for a little while. Thankfully, a majority of all the talking was distracting us from how hungry we were. We talked about literally everything that we've accomplished together both as a film crew and a friend group. We talked about how we all kinda freaked out during that first day when Conner couldn't make it, and how relieved everyone was when Ted took his place. Joe talked a bit about where he got the inspiration for Kara and Mason's wardrobe, our characters, and Dan once again apologized for almost hitting me with that football that Tanner made him throw at Ted and I. Good times.

Speaking of Ted and I, that topic came up shortly after due to Dan's genuine curiosity.

"I just don't understand how this happened." Dan admitted with an innocent little smile, holding his hands out in front of him as he speaks. "Like, you guys weren't already together when I threw the football?"

"No, it happened like 3 days later." Ted admitted with a casual shrug, relaxing a bit against the back of the booth. He was right, but I was surprised to hear him admit it to everyone.

"What happened, though?" Dan asked with a bit more emphasis, placing both of his hands on the table. It's a weird question to be asked but I can tell that Dan means well. He isn't necessarily trying to pry into our business, he's just...very young and innocent at heart despite being one of the older members of the friend group. Ted turns his head to look at me, giving me a smug little smirk with an eyebrow raised, as if to signal me to answer.

"What?" I look up at him with my own brows furrowed a little, a slight chuckle slipping out. "Do you want to talk about it? Here?"

"Why not?" Ted replied with a simple little shrug. "My friends already know a bit of it, yours could as well.."

"Wait, really?" I'm a little surprised to hear that. "Who? Which friends?"

"Tucker and Schlatt--well, Schlatt doesn't know what we did, but Tucker does."

"Tucker knows?"

"Yeah."

"Everything?"

"About that night, yeah. Mostly everything."

"Mostly?"

"Well I didn't go into excruciating detail or anything, but yeah, mostly."

"When did you tell him?"

"I had texted him before you woke up that morning."

"You texted him while I was next to you?"

"Yeah."

"So he knew before I was on the podcast?"

"Yeah, he did."

"...huh."

"Why are you surprised?" Ted chuckled a little, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "How fast did you go to Joe about us again?"

"I'm--Okay, that's a fair point, actually.." I playfully roll my eyes and nod a little. After a decent little pause, Ted turns back to look at Dan.

"Anyways, we had sex."

Most of us started laughing at that response, with Dan letting out a genuine, but almost exaggerated "What!?" in between laughs. Him being so shocked is honestly valid, especially after that tangent between Ted and I.

"3 days later? Jesus, man!" Dan chuckles, gently smacking his hands down on the table. "No patience!"

"What day was that again?" Tanner asks with a confused little smile, looking over everyone's expressions.

"The day we had to go out and replace my wardrobe.." I admit in a slightly softer voice, sort of hugging myself in my seat.

"It was when you passed out in my bed." Ted added, pointing over at Tanner. "The first time we were up late editing?"

"Oh yeah.." Tanner glanced down a little, nodding slowly before looking up at Ted again. "And my door was locked, right?"

"Yeah, no idea why." Ted admitted with a shrug. "I couldn't turn the knob and I didn't really want to wake everyone to the sound of me breaking down your door, so I just knocked on theirs. Knew they were awake."

Huh. So Tanner really was taking up Ted's bed the first night. What an odd way for the world to put Ted and I together. "I genuinely thought it was a fuckin' story." I speak up after taking a sip from my drink. "I thought it was a whole-ass excuse just to get me alone."

"Hey, I know you like to think I'm some hot-shot lady wranglin' casanova over here.." Ted snickers slightly, turning his body a little to address me. "But despite what you think, I didn't intend to sleep with you that night."

"It kinda sounds like you did." Tanner admitted with his head tilted, resting his elbows on the table. I could tell that everyone was invested in this whole thing, Joe included, despite him already knowing everything. Mostly everything.

"I didn't! It wasn't--alright--" Ted's tone became defensive as he held his hands up in mock surrender, letting out a chuckle. "Alright, alright, listen: Was I kinda thinkin' about it? A little, maybe. Sure, but I wasn't plannin' on tryin' anything; not that night anyways."

"So how did it happen?" Joe asks with a knowing smirk, his body turned towards the both of us to give us his full attention. Joseph, you fuck, you already know.

"Because (Y/N)'s kinda a little whore, if I'm bein' honest." Ted admits without an ounce of hesitation, using his usual exaggerated tone.

"YO!" I laugh out and turn to smack his arm, hearing a quiet 'ah' escape him as I laugh. "I am NOT! You jumped me!"

"I didn't jump you! You were--"

"You cornered me by my window and my bed!"

"You wanted to kiss me!"

"I had no where to go!"

"You were givin' me the goo-goo eyes! The bedroom eyes!"

"I glanced at your lips ONCE, Ted!"

"And what does that mean, princess? Hmm? What does looking at the lips mean?"

"It's a fucking--"

"What does looking at the lips mean?"

"Ted--"

"Do you remember? Do you remember what it means?"

"Shut the fuck up!" I laugh.

"You used the tell for the film?" Tanner chimes in with a soft laugh, furrowing his brows in disbelief. "That's what did it?"

"Absolutely she did!" Ted points at Tanner with pure confidence in his expressive voice. "She looked, I made her admit it, then it happened."

"And now the whole fucking cafe knows." I lower my voice a bit with a playful eye roll, shaking my head at Ted. "You're being loud as fuck, you know that?"

"Oh come on, babe. Doesn't it feel kinda good to tell everyone?" Ted grinned back at me, getting yet another little eye roll from me. "Isn't it kinda funny?"

"....In a sense.."

The conversation was cut short when our server returned to take our food order. Dan and Joe had finally decided on what they wanted, so we could all finally order our food and wait for it to arrive. It was hard to believe that we'll all be separating in the next 9 or so days. Some of us will be flying back home, some of us will make a long road trip out of it and Ted will simply be just getting on the highway for, like, a 45 minute drive at best. It's odd. He'll have the smallest distance to travel, but he'll feel so far away...

I try to keep my thoughts focused on the group and their loud banter, watching with a smile on my face as Joe and Tanner rock back and forth in a laughing fit. Joe put his head in his hands and Tanner leaned his head back with his hand on his chest. I've clearly missed something. "What? What did you say?" I ask with a confused little smile, tilting my head at Joe as he leaned against my shoulder.

"We were talking about the--oh god.." Joe almost couldn't answer my question, wiping under his eyes as he chuckled. "Tanner, fuck man, oh my god.."

"I still have to show it to you guys, but we're talking about something we caught while editing last weekend." Tanner was able to catch his breath enough to start explaining it, an occasional laugh slipping out. "Y'know how we had to reshoot some scenes outside the other day?"

"Yeah, that's why Ted had to shave." I reply with a small smile, glancing over at Ted.

"She's still very upset about that." Ted adds in a joking tone, giving me a little point.

"Well--Okay, first of all, rude to just air that out." I let out a little laugh, turning my body more to look at Ted. "I was not upset, I was just...wanting you to grow it out a bit.."

"I am, half of it is already back." Ted rubs his slightly stubbled cheeks with his hands, shrugging a little. "It grows in fast, princess."

"Have you ever thought about growing a mustache?" Dan chimes in, resting both of his arms on the table.

"Ooh, y'know what..." Ted narrows his eyes with a smirk, leaning back a bit with his arms crossed in front of his chest. Man, he has nice arms... "I haven't grown in my mustache in a long time...maybe I will.."

"It'll look schnazzy for the premiere." Tanner gives him a gesture of approval before adjusting himself in his chair. We gotta stop going off on tangents like that.

"Anyways, what we were laughing about was something Joe and I caught while we were editing last weekend. There was a part of the file that got corrupted and it created this weird mix match of scenes that made it look straight out of a YouTube poop."

"The files mixed? Mixed how?" I repeated, tilting my head a little again. "Like, into 2 scenes?"

"Yeah, it mixed one of the outdoor shots with Ted pushing you into the pool." Tanner explained, beginning to laugh a little as he recalls the scene for us. "And--and so the camera pans--it pans, cuts to you two, you get pushed into the pool and it froze on the exact frame you go under the water. When it froze, the audio still plays and it's the loudest fucking, like...crashing into water sound I've ever heard. It was so fucking funny."

"Here, I recorded it on my phone." Joe takes his phone out of his pocket and opens the video, handing his phone to me so Ted and I could watch it. It was almost exactly how Tanner had described it, but it looked like it was some video game glitch. When I hit the water, the file was so corrupted, it looked like water was continuously coming out of the pool with my body vibrating inside it. The sound was LOUD, too, making Ted and I erupt into unexpected laughter.

"Jesus christ!" Ted laughs out, smacking his thigh a bit as he leaned back. "How the fuck did that happen!?"

"I honestly have no idea!" Tanner chuckled, shrugging his arms out a bit. "It was fine inside the camera! Sending it to my PC just did that!"

"Can you send that to me?" I ask Joe in between little laughs, placing a hand over my own chest.

"Yes, absolutely. It's so fucking funny.." Joe chuckled, carefully taking his phone back from me so he could send me the video. I needed to put that on my Instagram story or something. I'd have to do it later though. Maybe we'd been here longer than we thought, or maybe we were being so rowdy that it caught the staff's attention, but we finally got all of our food shortly after Joe sent me the video, so we were all finally able to calm down a bit and enjoy our meals, glancing up from our plates when another rainstorm occurred. That's still a little jarring, in a good way.

Honestly, the food wasn't too bad. The safari fries were a lot better than I thought they'd be and I thoroughly enjoyed what I had ordered. Everyone else seemed pretty satisfied too. I would've finished everything on my plate if it weren't for Ted, who had ordered a bit more than the rest of us. He wanted all of us to try a little bit of the nachos so we all sort of had a free appetizer with our meals. Honestly, Ted was the most eager out of all of us to come here but we were all having a blast. I couldn't stop smiling the whole time, even after another two or so Rainforest thunderstorms. I could tell that Ted was enjoying himself just as much, if not more. I kept catching him looking at me with a big dumb smile no matter what I was doing, whether I was turned away to talk to Joe or straight up stuffing way too many nachos into my mouth, he looked infatuated with me. It was really nice, in a strange way.

Once we were all done our food, Ted called for our bill. At first, he tried to pay for the entire meal, but most of us strongly disagreed with that idea. I stayed relatively quiet while everyone argued about paying for their own meals. I mean, I'd happily pay for my own meal if I had to, I'd feel bad about making Ted pay for it...at the same time, free dinner sounds pretty good and I oddly like the idea of Ted spoiling me even a little bit. The argument was settled when Tanner brought up the fact that he still had money on the credit card the school had given him for the film. Yes, the "emergency" credit card. Dan brought up the fact that Tanner seemingly wanted to use it for what was clearly not an emergency, Tanner just shrugged and said "We can't decide who's paying, sounds like an emergency to me." And we ultimately all agreed to use it, because making his school pay for our Rainforest Café dinner is just really funny.

After we've paid our bill, we make a quick trip to the gift shop to buy matching shirts, very similar to the one Ted had brought, and take a few group photos inside and outside of the joint before finally separating back to our vehicles. Joe, Dan and Tanner returned to their ride and Ted and I moved back to his Toyota Tacoma. Just as I had hopped into the passenger seat, I watched Ted do a quick little jog over to the guys and tell them something, though even with the windows rolled down I can't make out any of it. Huh.

Ted quickly steps back over and gets into the driver's seat, a small smirk on his face as he starts his truck up.

"What did you tell them?.." I ask with a curious smile, but I don't get an immediate answer. Ted takes his time carefully getting out of the parking lot, the smirk staying on his face. I furrow my eyebrows a little at him and just sort of...watch. His silence is making me a little anxious.

"Hang on, I'll tell you when we're on the road.." Ted speaks as he stops to let another car pass. He's being strangely...inconspicuous about this, which means he's up to something. I see Dan's van drive out of the parking lot and make a right turn to head down the main street, but when Ted gets to that same exit after a bit of navigating, he turns left. I furrow my brows again and turn to look at him. He's still smirking.

"You feelin' alright?" Ted speaks up again once he's on the main road, keeping his eyes front with his smug little smirk still along his blush-toned lips. "Not feelin'...stuffed at all?"

"Stuffed? I mean..." I'm getting more confused by the second, sitting up more in my seat. "I'm full, but I'm not sore or anything. Why?"

"Just checkin'.." Ted glances at me briefly, staying straight on the road. I don't know this area very well, but I know that our set isn't in this direction. "I told the others I'd take ya sight seeing for a bit."

"Sight seeing?" I repeat and briefly turn away, my eyes focusing down in my lap for a moment. "What are we seeing? Where are we--"

It hits me.

Oh.

Oh.

I remember.

"That...kinda depends on whether or not I'm makin' another left at these lights up here.." Ted slips his hand off the wheel slightly to point out towards the lights we were approaching. It seemed like turning left would lead into some sort of middle class neighborhood, while turning right would likely bring us back to the path home.

"Y-You're making me decide this now?" I'm immediately flustered, turning to look at him with a nervous pout. "How long did you say we'd be gone?"

"Didn't specify, but we don't have to be gone long.." Ted gave a slight shrug, easing up a bit when the light began to turn red. "Doesn't always have to last 20 or so minutes. Am I turnin' left?"

I try to get something, anything out quickly but I just stammer over my own voice and let out a nervous chuckle. I can't tell if he's bluffing, thought at this rate I doubt he ever is. He mentioned knowing a few spots before we got to the restaurant, but I thought it was a fucking joke. It's very quickly not becoming a joke...and it's very quickly becoming very, very tempting.

"I won't be upset if it's a no, but you got about 15 seconds to answer me. Give or take." Ted speaks up again to get my attention, glancing at me briefly. "Am I turnin' left?"

"Do you actually have a spot in that direction?" I ask, my curiosity getting the better of me. I want to have at least some idea of where we're going. I certainly don't need to know what we'll be doing. I already know.

"Yes." Ted answers simply, slowing down ever so slightly. "I know a few, this is the closest."

"But that's through a suburb."

"Yeah, I know."

"The spots near those houses?"

"A house, kind of."

"Have you ever used it?"

"Not that one, no."

"Have you ever been caught?"

"Not in L.A."

"Isn't there a chance we could get caught there, especially if you've never used it?"

"No, not with what I know. Am I turnin' left, or...?"

Christ, I can't believe I'm doing this. "...turn."

I see Ted's smirk grow into a mischievous smile as he carefully switches lanes so he can turn left at the red light, bringing us into a neighborhood I didn't recognize. A devilish little chuckle leaves Ted and he shakes his head. It's like he also can't believe what I had just agreed to, and he's the one who made the damn offer in the first place.

"Don't laugh at me.." I playfully glare at him, anxiously crossing my arms in front of my chest. "This was your idea.."

"Yeah, and it's fucking awesome that you're into it." Ted replied with a cocky little grin, removing one of his hands from the steering wheel to rest it in his lap. I turn away for a moment just to glance out the window, noticing very quickly that there wasn't a single other car on this street. Even most of the driveways were empty. Maybe a majority of the people in this neighborhood work nights and closing shifts. Ted must've known that, though how he came across this area was a whole other story.

"Hey." Ted gets my attention by placing his free hand on my thighs, glancing at me with that confident, charming little grin. "Got a question for ya, princess.."

I can already feel my cheeks heating up and my stomach bubbling up with anxiety, turning my head to look at him. I was trying to appear as calm as possible. "Yeah?.." I respond simply, keeping my tone soft just in case I became shaky. His hand feels so warm on me...

"...Didya ever...think about me?.." Ted lowers his tone a little, occasionally glancing at me as he drove down the empty street. "Y'know, before anythin' happened? Did ya...think about how it'd go? How it'd feel?"

I find myself rolling my eyes and looking out my window again, letting out a shaky sigh. There's no way I'm gonna be able to answer that while looking at him. "Yeah..." I'm able to speak up enough so he can hear me clearly, but my tone is otherwise quiet and shy. "It...pretty much went exactly how I'd pictured it. You on top...a leg over your shoulder..."

"Oh yeah?" Ted speaks with a little purr, giving my thigh a small squeeze. I feel his thumb begin to slowly caress my inner thighs, his tongue gliding along the ends of his top teeth. "Ya like me on top?.."

I roll my eyes again. It's instinctual. It's like I'm annoyed with myself for enjoying his suggestive questioning. I look forward to see Ted go through a roundabout, heading down a new street that seemingly lead to no where. "I like...losing control. Giving it.." I admit after a little pause, slowly moving my tongue along my lower lip to wet it a bit. "You're just so...right for me in that way, I never have to worry about...telling you to slow down or curve up or anything, you just know. You just do it, and it's been good...every single time."

Even thinking about it now was making that familiar tingly warmth appear between my legs, lightly dragging my teeth along my lower lip. Sometimes, if I really think hard about it, I can still feel the anticipation of him pushing into me for the first time, how well I shape around him...

I can see that Ted is happy with my honest answer. A pleased little hum leaves him and he squeezes my thigh again. He keeps doing that and I'm gonna make him pull over...

"I know I haven't left you alone since that night, but..." Ted pauses to choose his words carefully, glancing at me again. "You ever...touch yourself to me, princess?.." Just as he ends his question, he slowly slides his hand more up my thigh, his thumb inching closer to my clothed core. Even through my clothes, I can feel his warm touch, I can feel myself aching for him, desiring him all over again.

"I've....never had the time.." I admit with a breathless little chuckle, trying not to tense up against my seat too much. "But...I've thought about it.."

"You've thought about it, huh?.." Ted begins to slow down a little, giving me another quick glance with his suggestive grin. "Ya wanna try it?.."

Gods, how does this man do that with just his voice?...

"Try it?" I turn to look at him fully, raising a curious brow. I'm trying real hard to hide how much he's getting to me. "Try it how? In here? In--In front of you?"

Ted, once again, chooses not to answer me right away. His suggestive grin grows and another low little chuckle escapes him. "...You'll see. You'll like it..."

Ted continues to drive until he's at the very end of the street with some large looking home to our left and a small little forest to our right. There isn't a single car in the driveway and it looks like all of the lights are on. The truck tilts and bobs ever so slightly as Ted pulls into the dirt path leading into the small forest, removing his hand from my thigh to steady the truck with both hands. Where the fuck are we? And how did he discover this place? Ted glances around a bit before parking and completely turning off his vehicle, letting out a little sigh. He removes his seatbelt, letting it slip behind him before turning to me with a smirk.

"Backseat, princess." He gestures back with a thumb. Oh god, okay, this is happening. Why am I even surprised? It's Ted, with me. He's obsessed...and honestly, so am I.

I quickly remove my seatbelt and move around to crawl into the back seat, grunting as I attempt to get through this awkward crawling bit as fast as I can. I realize that I've never seen his backseat so...cleared before. I don't think I've ever seen anyone's backseat so cleared. Did he plan this?

X

As I'm getting comfortable, Ted immediately moves towards me to crawl overtop of me, pinning me down on my back with his body. I'm honestly surprised he can even fit back here with how tall he is, but he seems relatively comfortable. He grabs my face and pulls me into a deep, sultry kiss, letting out a muffled groan against my lips. With how short these seats are, one of my legs are hanging over the side of the seat, my lap already completely spread for him. I'm able to loosely wrap my arms around his neck, already feeling him slip his tongue into my mouth for more of me. A small moan escapes me, which immediately turns into a more surprised moan when I feel his tented shorts press against me. He's trapped me beneath him, I couldn't go anywhere even if I wanted to. I can already feel my own excitement growing at that realization.

Ted kisses me roughly a bit more before pulling away to begin trailing hot kisses down my neck. As he pulls back a bit to say something, his glasses slip off his face and bop me on the bridge of my nose, making both of us let out a little laugh.

"Fuck, sorry--" Ted chuckles lowly, carefully snatching his glasses before they'd fall, tossing them onto the side surface in between the front seats.

"You're...so impatient.." I let out a soft purr, leaning my head back a little when he continued to trail his kisses along my neck.

"I know, I'm not doin' well at all.." Ted snickers a bit against my nail, nipping a bit along my jaw. "Soon as you agreed to it, I just...fuck, (Y/N).."

Ted knows we need to be semi quick, so as his hand moves down my body, he completely ignores my shirt and heads straight for my pants. He slips his hand in between my opened legs to touch my clothed core, my thighs flinching as a shaky moan leaves me. "Theo.." I tilt my head to moan into his ear, feeling the tips of his fingers press into the loose fabric of my pants. I know. I know he can feel how wet I already am, and it's all his fault. I don't know if it's normal for a man to make me such a mess so quickly, but he does it to me. Oh, he does it to me so easily...

"I know, baby. I know.." Ted moves up ever so slightly to whisper into my ear, moving his hand up to slink under the waistband of my pants, pushing my panties aside to slip his fingers between my folds. "I've got you, I've got you.."

A sharp gasp leaves me at his warm hand against me, glancing down to see his hand down my pants, wanting the pretty sight burned into my memory. I'm already soaked against his fingers, my panties are probably already a mess. My arousal only grows when I feel him push two fingers into me, making me lean my head back and moan out for him. I feel his fingers curl up inside me, massaging that perfect little spot from the inside.

"Oh you're drenched.." Ted purrs into my ear with a low little snicker, beginning to pump his fingers inside me with the small amount of room he had. "Did you get horny at the thought of me fuckin' you in my car? You're bad, princess. You're...fucking perfect.."

My pants have never felt so restrictive in my entire fucking life until now. I close my eyes as his fingers work me inside, pressing my foot against the back door with a groan.

"T-Take my pants off.." I beg with a slight growl in my throat, a shiver running through my body as Ted trails his tongue along the side of my neck, knowing he's doing it just to tease me.

"Hands are kinda busy, princess.." Ted purred against my neck with another low snicker, rebalancing himself overtop of me by moving his free hand against the backs of the seats. I groan in response, giving his wrist in my pants a quick smack so he'd remove it. I grunt quietly as he slipped his fingers out of me completely, listening to his dark chuckles as I push my own pants down my legs, wiggling my hips to slip them down to my ankles.

"These too, princess.." Ted shifts slightly to look at me, pressing his two fingers against me through my panties. A quiet gasp escaping me in response.

"Y-You do it.." I huffed, giving him a needy glare. I know Ted wants us to be quick, which of course means I need to start misbehaving, to test his patience. I see his eyes sparkle a bit with a surprised smile spreading along his blush-toned lips, raising a brow at me.

"Oh you really don't want to test me right now, babe.." Ted purred down at me, giving me a small shake of his head. "You're wearing lace. Y'know how easy that is to rip open? You wanna find out?"

"You think you're gonna rip them?" I ask with a quiet, mocking little chuckle.

"I will rip them." Ted insisted with a slight nod. "That's not a concern, that's a promise."

"Oh is that so?"

"Absolutely. Wanna test me right now? On the way back, you'll be sitting with nothing to cover how much I've stuffed your sensitive little cunt.."

"Bet."

Ted's eyes flared up at my response, like I just snapped a twig while he's on the hunt. He sits up a bit more so he can use both of his hands to grab the front of my panties, ripping them open like they were nothing.

"Ted! You--" I gasp out, the rest of my words muffled by the feeling of his fingers pushing into my mouth, making me taste myself.

"Shut up, I fucking warned you." Ted scoffs down at me, removing his fingers from my mouth so he could return them to my core, spreading my essence and saliva over my sensitive bud. He uses his free hand to lift my shirt up just so I feel even more exposed, leaning back over me to return to my neck. He uses his two fingers to make slow little circles around my sensitive clit, my exposed, spread thighs shivering in response.

"Oh my g-god, Teddy...that's..." I moan softly for him, leaning my head back once more. I don't even have the energy to think about my torn panties anymore, his touch is so sensual and pleasent, it feels really good.

"Yeah, there you go..." Ted whispered into my ear with another low snicker, changing the pace of his fingers to begin flicking them back and forth against my clit, pressing a kiss to the side of my neck. "Relax, baby. Relax beneath me.."

I let a few shaky moans escape me, closing my eyes to focus on all of the touches and noises around me. I can feel Ted's hot breath against my neck, his fingers working my sensitive bud in alternating paces. I can hear the way his fingers rub against me, occasionally dipping into my entrance for more of my essence, spreading it over my sensitive clit, my arousal making my breathing quicken and become uneven. I began to let my thoughts wander, recalling our first night in bits and pieces. I thought about how it felt to kiss him in my room with true passion and desire, how it felt to have him in my bed...

"You're thinkin' about it, aren't you? Bout that night?.." Ted purrs into my ear, flicking his fingers against my clit a little faster, letting the tip of his tongue curl along my ear. "Y'know how often I think of that? Of every night I've had you beneath me?.."

My mouth is open to let my sweet sounding moans slip out, though words refuse to form. I give him a shaky little nod instead, angling my hips up ever so slightly as if to grind against his fingers.

"I think about how well you responded to everything I did to you.." Ted whispers to me, alternating between circling and flicking his fingers along my sensitive bud. "I think about how we didn't need to say a word...how we knew exactly where to touch each other, where to feel, where to taste. Oh baby, and you taste so good..."

I close my eyes and allow myself to fully focus on his words and his touch, unable to balance my heavy breathing. An occasional little moan escaped me, urging him to keep going.

"I'll never have to touch myself again with you so eager, mm?.." Ted continues to whisper sweet nothings into my ear, occasionally moving to nip or suck on little spots along my jaw or neck. "You'll just do anything for my touch, won't you? You were made for me, princess. Made for me to play with. Look at you, look at how pretty your pussy is to play with.."

I can't help myself. With him, I must do as I'm told. I can feel the arousal in my body increasing, my core becoming warmer and more sensitive. I feel him adjust so I can look down at myself, watching as his fingers dip into my core to get more of my essence along his fingers, bringing them back up to continue to play with me, the pace of his fingers flicking across my clit only becoming faster and faster.

"Pretty little thing, mm?..." Ted glances down at his hand, a low, mocking chuckle leaving him as he watches my chest rise and fall with my quick, desperate breaths. "God, you're so fun to play with, baby. Pretty little pussy's all mine, isn't it? Can you say that, baby? Can you say that before you cum?..."

Everything is starting to feel more and more intense, I don't know if I'll even be able to get a word out before I finish. I let out a needy moan and lean my head back again, closing my eyes once more. "P-Pretty--pretty..." I manage to mutter out in between quick breaths, pouting my lips out with a desperate little whine. "T-Teddy, I'm--"

"Don't cum, princess. Don't cum just yet.." Ted teases me with a low snicker, yet his quickens his pace against my clit. "Tell me, tell me it's pretty. No no no, don't.."

"I-I am!--I'm!--"

Unfortunately, him urging me to hold it in while his fingers increased their pace was the exact thing that triggered my first climax. I shut my eyes and moan out for him, my body shivering and shaking as my orgasm intensifies through my whole body, rising up my chest and into my head. His fingers continued to move relentlessly against my sensitive clit as my head gets all fuzzy, my eyes rolling back as the last of my climax shivers up my spine. That was a completely different kind of release, at least compared to when he goes down on me, but it was...exhilarating. It felt amazing. He knows my body so well. I have a sneaking suspicion that he intended for me to finish then and there, despite telling me to wait

My hazy thoughts are interrupted by Ted snickering lowly at me, spreading his fingers over my core. "You bad girl.." He purrs to me, bringing his hand up to lightly clasp around my throat, keeping me down against the seat. "Thought I told you to wait. Pathetic..."

I open my eyes to meet his heated gaze, my lips parted as I tried to catch my breath. Ted was right, I liked that. I really liked that. Having him play with me was incredible. Now I'm the impatient one. "T-Too bad, I guess.." I manage to speak out with a shaky chuckle, letting my tongue smooth along my upper lip. "Now, you gonna keep everyone waiting or are you gonna fuck this pretty pussy?.."

I see Ted's eyes once again flare up with desire and arousal, hearing him let out another dark, yet shakier chuckle. That's exactly what he wanted to hear.

"Oh, I'm fallin' hard for you, you little bitch.."

Ted leans down to catch my lips in another deep, passionate kiss, using his free hand to begin working at the button and zipper of his shorts. I groan impatiently in the deep kiss, kissing him back with my own hands going down to his shorts to help him pull them down, helping him slip his boxers briefs down as well. Once he's fully exposed, I feel his right hand move up to smack onto his back window while the other let's go of my throat to align himself with my entrance, wasting no more time as he pushes deep into me. By now, he feels perfect slipping into me, every single god damn time. Something is missing if his cock isn't nestled inside of me. I'm shaped for him and him only and he knows it. He better know it.

He moves his hand up to press against the back door behind my head, bucking his hips up as roughly as he can against me. I can already feel how much he's been aching for me, his throbbing shaft massaging my inner walls warmly. Pleasure begins to surge throughout my entire body with every smack of his hips, a loud, needy moan slipping out of me everytime our skin connects. I lean my head back and let him hear the desperation in my sweet moans, smirking a little to myself when I can feel the truck rocking with his thrusts.

"Oh. God. Every. Time. Every. Single. Fucking. Time.." Ted growls, a single word leaving him with every thrust of his hips. "So. Fucking. Good. So tight, so--wet--FFFFUCK." He nuzzles his face into my neck, putting more force in with every single buck while his lips once again find my neck. His pelvis rubs up against me everytime our hips meet, I'm already getting lost in the pleasure he's rushing through my body, feeling his heavy pants against my skin.

"Oh god, Teddy! Teddy it's good!" I whimper for him, wrapping my arms around him to cling to him as best as I can, gripping onto his shirt to keep him close. "It's good, it's good! It's so good! So good!"

"I know, baby, I know--ugh, I'm gonna--" Ted growls into my ear, his hand moving from the window to slightly change the angle of our bodies, making my head nestle more into the corner of the backseat. "--gonna tilt this whole truck over fucking you like that, hold on.--" He puts us at a more diagonal angle with one knee on the seat with his other on the floorboard to keep himself steady, pulling my hips in closer. "There. Better..."

This new position gave him the room that he needed, able to tug me in with his rough thrusts over and over and over. The truck was definitely still rocking back and forth with us, arguably a lot more with how much harder he was fucking me, but neither of us cared now.

Ted quieted his own low moans and growls so he could focus on my own needy sounding voice, my head completely leaned back as I whimpered and whined for more, unable to form a coherent word or sentence that didn't include 'It's' 'so' and 'good'. It was all I could say, all I could feel. It was so good. It was so fucking good, everytime with this man is so fucking good. The intensity of it all was becoming too much. Here I am, in the backseat of his truck, getting railed like there's no tomorrow and no one has any idea where we've gone or what we're doing. It's exciting, it's exhilarating and I want to do more of it with him. I want to do everything with him.

"Ted! Teddy! I'm--It's--I-I'm cumming!" I cry out for him, finally able to get some words out when I begin to hit my peak a second time. I can feel his length throbbing inside of my tightened walls, my release building up more and more until it was nearly about to burst. Ted moved in to press his body down against me and latched onto my neck once again, panting and moaning sweetly into my neck as he bucked his hips against me like a needy animal reacting to heat. His pelvis continued to rub against my sensitive bud while the tip of his length massaged me from the inside and I'm able to release for a second time, crying out because of him; crying out for him. I can't control my volume even if I tried. I close my eyes just as I feel his hot seed push into my core, hearing his hand smack his back window as his body lightly convulsing against me, comfortably emptying into me. All of the pleasure centers around my aching core and rushes up my entire body and rumbles into my head, leaving me with a satisfying, light-headed haze, even as he gently pulls out of me.

X

Just as this pleasant high begins to fade, I feel Ted pull back from my neck with a weak moan, relaxing against my body to catch his breath, the truck's rocking still persisting ever so slightly. I lightly wrap my arms around him, one of my hands moving up to run my fingers through his tall dark hair. A part of my neck feels warm and damp and it's a little difficult to catch my breath with most of Ted's weight on me, but I'm completely satisfied. Maybe I'll keep this little adventure with Ted to ourselves. Joe doesn't need to know everything.

"You're incredible..." Ted whispers into my chest, letting out a shaky chuckle as he lifts himself off of me a bit, his dark orbs sparkling down at me. "You're fucking incredible, you're...everything.."

I meet his gaze with my own weak little chuckle, lightly biting the corner of my lower lip. I can feel the high of sex with Ted mixing with my infatuation for Ted. "E-Everything?..." I manage to repeat after a deep breath, giving him a little smile. "I'm...I'm everything except properly clothed, Theo.."

"Oh yeah, right...right..." Ted replies with another breathless laugh, glancing down at my bare legs. Fuck. This motherfucker really ripped my god damn underwear. "I...did that."

"I can't believe you did that.." I lean my head back for a moment and shake my head, my smile spreading into a satisfied grin. "You son of a bitch.."

"Hey, I did warn you. I tried to warn you." Ted insisted with a playful grin, shifting a bit to give me more room to move. "I just--ooh...uh...uh oh..."

"Uh oh?" I lift my head to look at him with my eyebrows slightly furrowed. "What uh oh?"

Ted, once again, doesn't answer me right away. He's looking down at me, but he's not looking at my face. What's he looking at? My chest? My chin? My neck?

Ted brings his hand to my chin to lift my head slightly, squinting his eyes and leaning in a bit, like he's focusing on something. I'm starting to get a little anxious. "What? What do you see?" I ask again with a frown, clearly getting more nervous by the second.

"Uhh..." Ted let's out his own nervous little chuckle.

"I...think that's a hickey..."

...Fuck.

"...A big one.."

Oh fuck.

__________________________________

*All Chapters, uploaded and not, will now be listed and linked at the bottom here ♡

Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 (smut) || Chapter 7 || Chapter 8 || Chapter 9 || Chapter 10 (smut) || Chapter 11 || Chapter 12 || Chapter 13 || Chapter 14 (smut) || Chapter 15 || Chapter 16 || Chapter 17 || Chapter 18 (smut) (here) || Chapter 19 || Chapter 20 || Chapter 21 || Chapter 22 || Chapter 23 || Chapter 24 || Chapter 25 (final) ||

[cocostyles]

Hiii! This was me! Can i request Sasuke x fem Uchiha s/o arranged marriage pls? Also can you make it non massacred au! Thank you!

Blood Chains — Sasuke Uchiha

pairing: Sasuke Uchiha x fem uchiha reader!

word count: 4595 k ( I might have gone a bit overboard i really need to get a life)

summary: You are forced to marry in order to continue the pure bloodline.

warnings; none, arranged married (?

hope you like it!

The Uchiha Clan had always been one of the cornerstones of Konoha. With their strength, their honorable history, and, above all, the cherished power running through their veins, they had left an indelible mark on the village. However, not everything within the clan had always been harmonious. After years of internal and political strife, the Uchiha decided that the best way to maintain the lineage and the purity of the Sharingan was through an arranged marriage between two strong members of the same bloodline.

Y/n Uchiha, a beautiful young woman with a strong spirit and an indomitable character, had never imagined being part of a political marriage. She was born to be a warrior, to preserve the honor and memory of her clan. She had always believed that her life would not depend on a man. Yet, when the clan council announced her arranged marriage to Sasuke Uchiha, she couldn’t help but feel trapped. It wasn’t what she wanted, but she couldn’t deny her father’s wishes.

Sasuke, on the other hand, had long distanced himself from everything the clan represented. He loved his family but had witnessed too many horrors in his life—too many betrayals, too many broken promises. His brother’s death had scarred him deeply, and walking a solitary path, regardless of the cost, was his way of surviving. He didn’t care about the clan, arranged marriages, or bloodline purity. But destiny—or rather, duty—had caught up with him, and even though he resisted, he couldn’t refuse.

When you were informed that you would marry Sasuke, you weren’t surprised. But that didn’t mean you were happy about it. Y/n understood her duty and was willing to fulfill it, yet she didn’t expect Sasuke to be so… irritating.

The wedding day arrived. The air was heavy with unspoken expectations placed upon the shoulders of the two young ninjas. They exchanged glances at the altar—not the look of lovers, but of two individuals simply accepting what had been imposed on them. It was only a brief moment, and Sasuke, in his habitual silence, showed no emotion. Y/n, on the other hand, stood firm, her eyes reflecting a determination that Sasuke had known since they were children, but there was also a shadow of doubt. What kind of future awaited them together?

The atmosphere during the ceremony was filled with curious glances and expectations from all members of the clan, especially their parents, who viewed the marriage as a necessary step for the survival of the lineage. “The clan needs this union,” was all you repeated to yourself as you listened to the priest’s words. There was no turning back now. You were trapped with him for the rest of your life, fulfilling your duty.

The first few days after the wedding were a silent torment for both. Sasuke spent most of his time away on missions for the village, escaping from his new reality. You, on your part, tried to fulfill your role as a wife, but the household duties and the clan’s administrative responsibilities left you with no peace. The bond between the two was so distant it could be cut with a feather.

One evening, after a long day of training, Sasuke returned home, tired but unwilling to yield. You were preparing dinner—a small welcoming gesture you hoped he’d appreciate, though Sasuke didn’t even notice it. His indifference immediately annoyed you. You were trying, and he didn’t care. Why was he such an idiot?

“Do you have something to say?” your sharp voice broke the silence, almost challenging.

Sasuke didn’t respond immediately. He was too exhausted to argue, but at the same time, something inside him couldn’t ignore the spark of irritation that had been growing toward you during his days at home.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied indifferently, dropping his bag on the floor. He chose not to fight.

You didn’t look at him, but anger began bubbling inside you. How dare he be so distant? you thought. “Then… why don’t you speak, Sasuke? Why do you ignore everything here?”

“I already told you, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he answered, now with a hint of irritation. There was something about his attitude that drove you mad. Crossing your arms, you stared at him with determination. This was the first conversation you’d had in days, and you weren’t going to back down so easily.

“I’m not here to play your games, Sasuke. This marriage—whether it’s just for the clan or not—forces us to live together. I’m not some decorative figure in this house you can simply ignore,” you said, unable to keep the anger from filling your voice. Sasuke observed you for a long moment, surprised by the strength of your words.

“And what do you expect from me? To call you ‘dear’ and live a happy life? This isn’t a fairy tale,” Sasuke said, his voice cold and distant as always.

And there it was again—that discomfort in the air, that insurmountable barrier between the two of you. You sighed, feeling your nerves start to snap. You couldn’t continue living like this, in constant friction. But he was right, so you locked yourself in your room with a loud slam of the door.

The next confrontation wasn’t long in coming. A week later, while Sasuke was away, you couldn’t stop thinking about what was happening between the two of you. You couldn’t deny that there was something about Sasuke that attracted you—a darkness that seemed to call to your own inner shadows. But there was also something about him that repulsed you: his indifference, his inability to connect. You were so alike, yet so different.

Since the wedding, your world had changed drastically, but that didn’t mean you would stay silent in the face of the contempt you felt from your husband.

Sasuke arrived home late, as always. You were waiting for him with a cup of tea in your hands, staring at the floor. Sasuke removed his sandals, paying little attention to your actions, and went straight to the window, seeking some calm after a long and exhausting day. The barrier between you remained firm.

You stood up, leaving the cup on the table, and slowly approached him. “Why are you here, Sasuke?” you asked, your voice firm but with a layer of vulnerability you couldn’t hide. “If you don’t want to be here, if you really don’t care to make an effort, just say so and leave.”

Sasuke turned to you, his dark eyes as empty as ever, but this time there was something different in his gaze—a spark of doubt, of guilt, as if your words were beginning to sink in. “I don’t understand you,” he said, letting out an exasperated sigh. “What do you want me to say, Y/n? That I don’t care about this?” His tone softened slightly, but his attitude remained cold, calculating.

“Then tell me,” you challenged, locking your eyes with his. “Because you haven’t said a single sincere word since we got married. I don’t know what you think, I don’t know what you feel. Is this really what you want, Sasuke? For us to live as strangers under the same roof?”

Sasuke stared at your face, noticing for the first time the intensity of your frustration, your pain. You were hurting, too. “Not everything can be solved with words,” he murmured, turning back to the window. “What I do, I do for the clan, for the future. If you have something to reproach me for, say it. I don’t have time for explanations.”

But in his eyes, you saw something else. An internal struggle, a battle he had never wanted to share. It couldn’t be that simple. Sasuke Uchiha—the man who had dedicated his life to revenge and solitude—was fighting against something he didn’t understand, something you couldn’t clearly see.

The tension in the room was palpable. You could feel the anger beginning to simmer in your chest, but at the same time, there was a strange sense of attraction toward him. His presence, his strength, the way he seemed so distant, so out of reach, stirred a mix of conflicting emotions within you. Once again, you let it pass, retreating to your room.

The next day, you decided to do something you hadn't done in a long time: step out of your comfort zone. For years, you had been part of the clan, always controlled, always aware of your responsibilities. But at that moment, you couldn’t keep ignoring what you felt. So, for once, you took a risk.

You walked toward the library of the Uchiha mansion, where Sasuke often spent long hours reading. The air was silent, the whisper of books sliding between shelves filling the space. He was there, standing in front of a bookshelf, his body hunched over the volumes.

“Can I talk to you?” you asked, the voice softer than usual, devoid of the anger that typically accompanied your words.

Sasuke glanced at you over his shoulder, his eyes void of emotion. “About what?”

You stepped closer, with your heart pounding in your chest. “About us,” you replied, a hint of vulnerability in your voice. "I don’t want to live like this, Sasuke. I don’t want to be in a marriage where all we do is ignore each other, and when we don’t, we argue."

There was a pause. Sasuke said nothing, but his expression softened slightly. You didn’t know if that was a good sign or not.

"Maybe, just maybe, if we give ourselves a chance, we could understand each other. Maybe even become... friends."

Sasuke turned fully, his eyes fixed on her. “I don’t want to be trapped in a lie,” he said, his tone heavy, but the intensity in his gaze suggested those words were not only for you but for himself as well. “I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to act. I...”

But seeing how much he struggled to open up, you didn’t let him finish. You took another step closer and suddenly stopped him with a hand on his chest. Sasuke froze at your touch, staring into your eyes with surprise, and though his body remained tense, the energy in the air shifted, both of you felt it.

"I know," you whispered. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t try. Because, Sasuke, if we don’t, this story will never have an ending.”

It was then that something shifted between them—a change so subtle no one else could have noticed. But in that instant, thanks to that small touch, you and Sasuke realized that the tension growing between you for so long was not just the result of the clan’s expectations or family responsibilities. There was something more, something that connected you, something neither of you could fully understand.

As days passed, the tension between Sasuke and T/n didn’t completely disappear, but something began to change in their strange dynamic. Both started interacting more subtly, less distantly. They no longer avoided glances or uncomfortable conversations. There was a fragile peace between them—one that seemed more like a temporary truce than a definitive solution.

One night, while dining in silence, Sasuke broke the stillness. “Y/n…” His voice sounded less harsh than usual. “Why do you always challenge me?”

You looked up, surprised by the question. Sasuke rarely spoke of emotions, let alone his thoughts. “Because I don’t think everything has to be so cold and calculated. The clan shouldn’t be the only thing that matters. Not when you’re so trapped in your own thoughts that you can’t even see what you have here.”

Sasuke stared at you, unsure if your words had any truth or if you were just searching for something more in him. But without a doubt, you had struck a nerve. He had always lived for his family, for the Uchiha clan, and had learned to disconnect from emotions. But with you, everything seemed different.

Silence fell between them again, but now it wasn’t as heavy. Though they didn’t speak, Sasuke began observing her more closely. There was something in her gaze—something defiant, something he had never noticed in any other woman of his clan. She wasn’t someone who would submit to the will of others, not even his. That intrigued him more than he wanted to admit.

A few days later, the Uchiha clan organized an important business meeting that you were both obligated to attend. During the meeting, Sasuke was absorbed in discussions with the leaders, while you watched with disdain the conversations about alliances and strategies. For some time now, you had been considering stepping back; you were tired of fighting. At that moment, a man from a rival clan began to make insinuations toward you, praising your skills and hinting at something more than mere admiration.

“You’re a very strong woman, Y/n,” the man said with a smile, stepping a little closer. “It’s an honor to meet such an… impressive Uchiha.”

You frowned, uncomfortable. However, the man’s words flattered your ego. “Thank you, Yamada,” you replied, stepping slightly away from the man’s hands, which had shamelessly landed on your waist. “But I’m not interested in your empty compliments.”

Sasuke watched everything from his position at the table, and although his face remained impassive, something inside him stirred. He couldn’t help but feel jealous. But what right did he have to feel that way? After all, he himself had treated you coldly, and you two were only just beginning to coexist in peace.

But the way that man approached T/n awakened something in Sasuke. He couldn’t let another man be so close to you. Though he didn’t fully understand what he was feeling, he knew he couldn’t allow things to get more complicated than they already were.

When the party ended, Sasuke walked toward you without saying a word, brushing past the man with a deliberate bump. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, recognizing the tension in his posture.

“Was that necessary?” you asked, crossing your arms. “It’s just a game for him, Sasuke.”

“I couldn’t care less about what he wants,” Sasuke replied in a low tone, almost murmuring. “I care about what you want.”

The silence that followed was heavy, and though you wanted to challenge him, a part of you felt touched by his words. Sasuke, in his own way, was telling you something without fully saying it. There was something more behind his distant and protective demeanor. Why did he feel that impulse to protect her now?

The previous night, something had changed in Sasuke. Although he didn’t fully understand what he was feeling, seeing T/n distant from him—even smiling with another man—made him realize he wasn’t willing to let you go. Somehow, you were beginning to stir something inside him, something that had been dormant for years.

You, on the other hand, were confused. Although you still saw him as your husband by obligation, the tension between you had intensified in ways you couldn’t ignore. Was that what you wanted now? To have something more with Sasuke, even if he would never be the romantic man you had dreamed of?

One day, after a morning training session, Sasuke stopped in front of you while you practiced your ninjutsu techniques. It was clear that the way you both looked at each other had shifted, but neither dared to speak about what they truly felt. You were exhausted, your breath uneven, yet you stood tall and defiant as always. Sasuke, on the other hand, watched you with a mix of respect and... something else.

“What is it, Sasuke? Are you just going to stand there staring at me all day?” you said without stopping your training, a touch of sarcasm in your voice.

“I’m just wondering…” Sasuke began, his tone serious. “Why do you push yourself so hard, Y/N?” He had spent his whole life watching you push yourself to the edge, becoming formidable.

You stopped training and turned to him with a challenging look. “Because I need to be better. I can’t afford to fail. This is my life, Sasuke. The one I’ve built for myself. And you? Why do you do it? Is it just for the clan, or is there something more?”

Sasuke stared at her in silence, a mix of frustration and strange admiration bubbling within him. you are unstoppable.

“I do it for what I represent,” he finally said, his voice low but firm. “For my clan. For Konoha.”

“Then keep pretending you’re not human,” you replied sharply. “Keep pretending you don’t care what you think or feel and stay out of it.”

Your response left Sasuke silent, but inwardly, he felt wounded. It was true. He had always kept his emotions under control, never letting anything distract him from his responsibilities. But you had seen beyond his facade, and that both irritated and intrigued him.

That same night, after dinner, they found themselves once again in the Uchiha mansion garden. The moonlight bathed the ground covered in fallen leaves, and the stillness of the place allowed them to remain silent without the pressure of prying eyes.

“Have you ever thought that we could be more than a political arrangement?” Sasuke broke the silence, his voice deep.

You looked at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his words. “I don’t know,” you answered after a long moment. “I’ve never thought about what could be. I’ve only focused on what is.”

Sasuke stepped closer to you, cautiously, as though weighing every word. “And what is that, exactly? You and I living like this forever?”

Your gaze remained locked with his, a flash of emotion passing through your eyes. “I don’t want to be just another pawn on the chessboard, Sasuke. I don’t want to be your obligation.”

Sasuke studied you intently, feeling your words sink deeper than he expected. There was something in your gaze that was disarming him. Something that told him he could no longer ignore his own feelings, the ones he had kept locked away for so long.

“Then what do you want from me?” he asked in a low voice, a spark of desperation in his tone that felt foreign to him.

You took a step back, returning to the strong, defiant woman you had always been. “I want you to stop hiding behind your responsibilities and start being real with me, Sasuke. I can’t keep living in a world where everything is just another damn duty.”

The air between both of you grew heavier, but Sasuke didn’t back down. He couldn’t. Something in his chest was beating fiercely, and it wasn’t just for the clan, not just for Konoha. Something else was driving him to stand there, facing you, ready to confront his own demons.

For the first time in a long while, you were not just adversaries. Perhaps, just perhaps, you were beginning to understand each other.

Even though you and Sasuke shared the same home and, in theory, were fulfilling your duties as husband and wife within the clan, there was a palpable distance between you. However, something had shifted in your relationship: words were no longer necessary to acknowledge that your feelings were evolving.

A couple of months after the marriage, Sasuke was in his office reviewing documents when a shadow appeared at the door. It was you, with your usual defiant demeanor, but this time, there was something different in your gaze.

“What’s keeping you so busy, Sasuke?” you asked, your voice laced with curiosity. “You can’t spend the entire day buried in paperwork.”

Sasuke looked up, his expression as impassive as ever, but his eyes revealed a spark of interest. “Work, as always. Do you have something to say, Y/N?”

You stepped closer, placing a hand on his desk. “Do you really have to spend all day locked in here, doing things that have nothing to do with us?” Your words, though direct, carried a faint tone of reproach.

Sasuke watched you for a long moment, something he rarely did. For a second, everything about him seemed more vulnerable. His life, always so controlled and calculated, was beginning to crumble under the weight of his own heart. What did he truly want? He couldn’t keep living solely for the clan. You knew it, and he felt it too.

“What do you suggest, then?” he finally asked, his voice unusually gentle.

You smiled faintly, the spark of challenge in your eyes. “That we stop pretending we’re just tools of the clan, Sasuke. Maybe what we need is time... time for us.”

The change in Sasuke was subtle but unmistakable. There was something in your words that resonated within him, something he hadn’t considered before. What you needed wasn’t just to fulfill a duty. There was a need to be honest with each other, to finally be real.

That afternoon, Sasuke decided to break free from his daily routine, spurred by your words. He invited you to train outside the city, in a calm area far from the Uchiha mansion. You wanted to train together, simply to enjoy each other’s company without the expectations of the clan.

The sun was setting as you arrived at a clearing near the forest. You glanced at Sasuke as he began to stretch, preparing to start. His body, always so rigid, moved with an innate grace.

“How do you manage to stay so... cold?” you asked as you began your own warm-up.

Sasuke looked at you again, as if deciding whether to answer. “It’s not cold. Just... efficient.”

“Efficient,” you repeated mockingly. “I know you, Sasuke Uchiha. It’s a façade. And you know it.”

He said nothing, but inside, his thoughts were turbulent. Did you really see him that way? What you said had struck a nerve. He wasn’t just a “cold man” or a machine that only thought about the clan. There was more to him, and for the first time, he felt you were the only one who saw it.

When the two of you began training, the tension between you became palpable. Every movement, every technique, was a blend of challenge, rivalry, and something more... something that was slowly building. However, the most disconcerting thing was the electricity that seemed to flow—a tension neither of you wanted to acknowledge.

Suddenly, as you sparred, Sasuke blocked one of your attacks, causing you to fall to the ground. The air grew heavier, as if everything between you had condensed into that single moment. Sasuke extended his hand to help you up, and as your eyes met, you found yourselves closer than ever before.

“You’ll have to do better if you want to beat me,” Sasuke said, trying to deflect the tension, though his voice was softer, tinged with something he couldn’t quite identify.

Instead of responding with words, you challenged him with a fierce red gaze—the unmistakable Sharingan you both shared. He smiled. Something was brewing between you, something even your egos couldn’t deny.

After an exhausting day of training, you shared a light meal at the mansion. Though both of you were reluctant to show emotions, the dynamic between you had changed. Sasuke couldn’t stop watching you, noticing how you ate, how you smiled, how every small gesture seemed more genuine than the empty moments of his past.

When you both finished, Sasuke stood and walked to the window, gazing at the horizon. The silence in the room was comfortable, something he rarely felt.

You watched him from where you sat, saying nothing for a few moments. Something in the air had shifted.

“You know,” you finally said, breaking the silence. “I... I don’t know if we’ll ever become what the clan expects of us. But maybe, we can try to be something else. Just us.”

Sasuke turned to you, his piercing eyes meeting yours. For a long second, he said nothing. Your heart pounded, feeling the weight of your words. Perhaps you’d ruined things, and he would withdraw again.

Then, suddenly, Sasuke stepped toward you, close enough that your breaths mingled. “Y/N...” he murmured, almost in a whisper.

The world seemed to stop, and you weren’t sure if it was the right moment to continue, to take the next step. But something in his eyes told you that, perhaps, the future wasn’t as uncertain as it once seemed.

Sasuke didn’t move for a long moment, his gaze locked on yours. The tension in the air was palpable, indescribable, something you both felt but neither wanted to admit. Your hearts seemed to beat in sync, and the silence between you turned into something almost sacred.

Taking a deep breath, your hands trembled slightly, though you tried to maintain composure. Should you take the first step? Something inside told you yes. You couldn’t keep ignoring what you felt—not when every fiber of your being yearned for him.

Finally, it was Sasuke who broke the silence, his voice low and husky. “Y/N...” he whispered your name again in a way he never had before. It was soft but carried an emotional weight you immediately recognized. In that moment, it was just the two of you.

Without further thought, Sasuke stepped even closer, his fingers brushing lightly against your cheek. The distance between you closed, and as you looked up, your faces were so close that your breaths intertwined.

“What... what is happening between us?” you murmured, your voice trembling with emotion.

Sasuke didn’t reply with words. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, and in an impulsive act, captured your lips with his.

The kiss was gentle at first, cautious, as if you both feared what would come next. But soon, the tension that had been building for weeks—that spark that had always been there but neither dared to acknowledge—exploded. Sasuke pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you as you clung to his clothes, seeking more of the feeling only he could give you.

The kiss deepened with urgency, as if everything you hadn’t said before was being conveyed through that single moment. The world disappeared. The clan’s duties, the weight of expectations—all of it faded away. Only the two of you existed, discovering a new feeling, something you’d never experienced before.

When the kiss broke, you were both breathing heavily, your foreheads touching, gazes locked. Your heart pounded wildly, as if it had finally found its rhythm.

“This...” Sasuke began, but his words trailed off, unable to find the right way to describe what had just happened.

With a shy but genuine smile, you whispered in reply, “This is just the beginning, Sasuke.”

The room fell silent again, the weight of your words lingering in the air. But the certainty of what you had just shared, of what was growing between you, was clear. It no longer mattered what the clan thought or what the history of your families dictated. From that moment on, the rules had changed.

Now, the story was yours to write.

[fandomgoddes05]

The broken king and the silent dove: a shadow the hedgehog x fem reader

A/n: this is an impulse project I’ll try to finish. I hope someone likes it!

Chapter 1: The kings dilemma

(Shadow):

The clash of steel against steel echoed through the large stone halls of the palace, followed by sharp grunts of exertion. Sonic, teeth clenched, pushed against his king’s blade with his own before shoving him back with a hearty thrust. But Shadow was relentless. He attacked immediately, raising his blade for another strike, forcing Sonic to dive and roll out of harm’s way.

“Okay, I yield!” Sonic shouted, scrambling to his feet before Shadow could attack once more.

“Coward,” the king retorted curtly, sheathing his blade swiftly.

“Come now, this is the third time this week you’ve challenged me to a duel, and this is the first time it hasn’t ended in a draw,” Sonic said, brushing dust off his tunic as he rose.

A low “Hm.” was all the king offered in response as he uncorked a waterskin and took a long sip. He sighed in relief as the cool water soothed his raw throat. Shadow had spoken more in the last few days than he cared to admit, ever since Princess Fern had arrived. That woman could talk a man’s ears off, and sparring had become his only outlet for stress, and Sonic the only one who could take him on in a match.

“Sooo… I'm assuming you're glad that Lady Fern has finally left?” Sonic asked, coming to stand beside Shadow and taking a swig from his own waterskin. He wiped his mouth and leaned against a giant stone pillar waiting for a response, but Shadow remained silent, a thoughtful expression on his face.

“I do not understand,” Shadow finally said, turning abruptly and walking toward the exit of the sparring chamber. Sonic followed close behind.

“Don’t understand what?” He asked, puzzled.

“Why, the court insists on me finding a bride,” Shadow growled, his pace quickening with every step. “It’s absurd! I’ve been ruling the kingdom perfectly well on my own, yet they persist, sending invitations to these… women. Who I am then forced to entertain.” His voice grew sharper in his frustration.

“Well, my lord, the reason is simple,” Sonic said, causing Shadow to stop so abruptly that Sonic nearly walked into him.

“And what would that be?” Shadow asked, his tone calm but ominously so.

“An heir,” Sonic explained carefully. “You need to secure a precautionary heir to the throne. And to do that, you need a queen, so your line may continue.”

Shadow’s crimson eyes narrowed as Sonic continued. “You must remember, Shadow, ever since you became king, your life is no longer your own. It is for your people.” Sonic placed a firm hand on his friend’s shoulder, offering comfort.

But it lasted only a moment before Shadow shrugged off Sonic’s hand with a frustrated huff, turning on his heel and heading toward his study.

A/n: I know it was really short but hopefully the chapters get longer as we go! I hoped you liked it!

[shinski-chan]

❛❛𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜, 𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚢❞

synopsis: a day of forcing him to play codm with you, but ended up solo gaming because he refuses to due to the fact that you always end up cursing people because of how stupid they are.

paring: jungwon x gn!reader

word count: 0.8k

notes: playing codm, heavy cursing, trashtalking, petnames, crack

one of the things jungwon hates the most is hearing you cussing. may it be just a simple reaction and expression or more than that, he hates it.

"no," he refused for the nth time, shaking his head, his eyes fixed on his phone screen.

"promise, just two games," you pursued as you kept pulling his shirt.

"no, i don't wanna be stressed out hearing you cussing here and there," he blurted out, throwing dead stares with your persistence.

you pouted and rolled your eyes with his statement and threw yourself on the bed beside him, knowing all too well that there's no way you can make him say yes. it's been awhile since the last time you both played call of duty mobile, and you wanted to play with him because he's been missing out lately due to his hectic schedule.

the last time you played with him, it rained so much cussing; all he heard was you trashtalking the other teammates because of how stupid they are, jungwon wasn't having all of it, which is why he's now refusing to play.

"just one game?" you asked as you looked at him lazily scrolling through his phone while his back is resting on the headboard.

he didn't give you any response, which made you sighed.

"alright, if you don't wanna play with me, then I'll play solo." you said, making him look at you with his left eyebrow raised as if questioning what you have just stated.

"you're not playing," he said, but you couldn't care less.

you started to open the app, not minding the cat beside you who is now observing you.

"i swear, if i heard you cuss just once..." he warned, but you acted as if you didn't heard anything.

you then proceeded to play alone, and the few minutes were quiet and peaceful—not until your team started to get killed one by one.

"ah, what the fuck is this stupid shithead doing?" you couldn't help but to say it out loud, making jungwon frown.

"baby," you heard jungwon call, his tone falling too serious. "i'm sorrryyy! this sh- this guy is just so stupid," you ranted, your fingers clicking the hud of your phone.

"then just quit," he said, annoyance rising up within him.

"you know there's no way," you replied, instilling your focus on the game...

few minutes have passed, and you did your best to heal your shithead teammates when one of them opened their mic and came to diss you...

the fuck are you doing, y/un? watcher the whole time?

you immediately opened your mic and replied,

ask yourself first what you contributed to the team, running?

jungwon in the background raised his brows, knowing all too well what would happen next.

"this idiot be blaming me for his stupidity. what the fuck is wrong with these people..." you mumbled between your breaths, completely stressed out with what's happening.

go fuck yourself,

your eyes widen, making your blood rise to it's maximum boiling point.

"baby," jungwon called, and before he knew it, you exploded...

woah, you really had the nerve?

you fired back, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you smashed the phonescreen aggressively.

says the guy who spends the entirety of the game sightseeing instead of shooting. what the fuck are you? a tour guide?!

you lashed out. jungwon on the other hand, pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, muttering, "here we go again."

if you wanna talk shit, at least back it up, bro! all you did was run around and loot fucking useless shits, you fucking idiot!

"jesus, christ... baby!" jungwon raised his voice, but at this point, he knew you're unstoppable.

bro, fucking chill your ass...

chill your fucking mouth, if being useless is a sport, you'd be the MVP of every single match, fucker!

you're so useless to the point that even bots wouldn't want to play with you.

"ENOUGH!" jungwon yelled, snatching away your phone and turning it off.

"BABYYYYY!!" you screamed, trying to get the phone from him, but he put it in his back.

"I'M NOT DONE YET! I WAS ABOUT TO TURN HIS FAMILY TREE INTO A DEAD BUSH!" you exclaimed.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN FAMILY TREE? IT'S JUST A STICK THAT NEVER GREW!" he yelled back, his temper falling shorter.

"are you hearing yourself right now?"

"i don't care!!! give me my phone back, i have unfinished business with the scumbag!" you said, clawing your hands like a cat.

"for pete's sake! they're just kids!" jungwon sounded like he was about to cry, begging you to just stop it already.

"your words, baby. you just sounded like you're auditioning to hell's kitchen," he groaned, tossing your phone on the bed, and you gave him a glare.

"they need to learn, i am doing the world a favor by dissing those fucking idiots," you said while pouting before plopping yourself back on the bed.

"watch your words, baby!" he warned once again, but you just rolled your eyes.

"you're not going to play that damn game again or else," he said, his tone much calmer now before sitting beside you.

"i hate you!" you sulked, burying your face with a pillow, and he just heavily sighed.

"i swear, dating you feels like I'm dating a stress ball with legs," he muttered while looking how you sulked.

©shinskichan

[knoepfl]

Could you do platonic! Tomura Shigaraki x child! reader where he discovers a young girl (a bit younger than Eri) who has the power of Collector (she permanently gains and becomes immune to any Quirk she comes into contact with, for example when she came into contact with Shigaraki's Decay, she now also has Decay and it won't work on her)?

Hey there! I really loved this idea ngl had something fun writing it! I hope you like it^^

A New Chance

Characters:

• Tomura Shigaraki A cold and volatile villain with a destructive Quirk and a deep hatred for heroes. Beneath his violent exterior lies a man scarred by a traumatic past. His unexpected connection with Lila forces him to confront feelings of responsibility and protectiveness he didn’t think he was capable of.

• Lila (OC) A five-year-old orphan with a tragic past. She is sweet, curious, and emotionally fragile but possesses an unexplained resilience that draws Tomura in. Lila’s innocence and trust challenge the hardened villain’s worldview, creating a bond that neither expected.

• League of Villains (Dabi, Toga, Spinner, and others) A chaotic and dangerous group of criminals who reluctantly accommodate Lila. Their interactions with her range from amused fascination (Toga) to wary indifference (Dabi), adding tension to her new life among them.

Trigger Warnings:

• Child endangerment: Portrayal of a young child in precarious situations with dangerous individuals (L.O.V.).

• Death and grief: Discussion of the loss of Lila’s parents and her processing of the trauma. (And a bit of Shigaraki's Trauma ig)

• Violence and destruction: Depictions of the aftermath of violent battles and the dangerous nature of Tomura’s Quirk.

• Emotional vulnerability: Exploration of trauma, loneliness, and the fragile connection between Lila and Tomura.

• Morally ambiguous relationships: The dynamic between a villain and a child raises questions of ethics and safety.

Masterlist

Words: 1048

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Tomura Shigaraki hated detours. He hated wasted time, especially after the disaster that today had been. The heroes had interfered with their plans again, and his irritation bubbled under the surface as he trudged through the ruins of a crumbled neighborhood. The cold night air bit at his skin, making him pull his hoodie tighter over his head.

It wasn’t the first time he’d walked through the wreckage left behind by so-called heroes, and he doubted it would be the last. Still, something about this place felt… different.

He stopped abruptly when a soft sound caught his attention—a hiccup, maybe, or a sniffle. His crimson eyes narrowed as he scanned the rubble.

Nestled between two large pieces of collapsed concrete was a small figure. A child.

The girl couldn’t have been more than five years old. Her tiny frame was engulfed in an oversized, torn sweater that hung limply off her shoulders. Her face was smudged with dirt, and her big, tear-filled eyes peeked out from beneath a curtain of messy hair. She clutched a stuffed rabbit to her chest, its fur matted and one ear missing.

Tomura frowned, his fingers twitching at his sides. “What are you doing here, kid?” he asked, his voice harsher than he intended.

The girl flinched, her grip on the rabbit tightening. “Hiding,” she mumbled, her voice trembling.

“Hiding from what?”

She sniffled and pointed at the collapsed building behind her. “The bad people… and the fire.”

Tomura followed her gaze, his sharp eyes taking in the charred remains of what was once a home. The building had collapsed completely, leaving nothing but rubble and ash. He didn’t need to ask what had happened—heroes had probably been too late, as they so often were.

“What happened?” he asked, crouching down to her level despite himself.

She hesitated, her small hands gripping the rabbit tightly. “Mama and Papa… they didn’t get out,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “The big man said the heroes would save us, but… they didn’t.”

Her words cut deeper than Tomura expected. He stared at her, trying to ignore the strange, uncomfortable feeling creeping into his chest.

“What’s your name?” he asked after a moment.

“Lila,” she said softly. “Who are you?”

“Tomura Shigaraki.”

Her little brow furrowed in confusion. “Are you a hero?”

The question made him bark out a bitter laugh. “Not even close.”

She tilted her head, studying him carefully. “But… you’re not yelling at me. And you’re not leaving.”

Tomura stared at her, unsure how to respond. He should leave. She wasn’t his problem. And yet… he couldn’t bring himself to turn away.

“Do you have a Quirk?” he asked, changing the subject.

Lila blinked, confused. “I dunno. Mama said I didn’t have one yet.”

His frown deepened. Something about her was… off. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“Come on,” he said abruptly, standing up.

“Where?” she asked, her voice small and hesitant.

“With me,” he said. “Unless you want to stay here and wait for the bad people to find you.”

Her eyes widened, and for a moment, she looked like she might cry again. But instead, she scrambled to her feet, clutching her rabbit tightly. “Okay,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

She reached for his hand, her tiny fingers curling around his. Tomura stiffened, his instinct to pull away overridden by the realization that his Decay hadn’t activated. He glanced down at her, his mind racing.

When they arrived at the League’s hideout, Lila was practically glued to Tomura’s side. Her small hand refused to let go of his, and she trailed after him like a shadow, her wide eyes darting around nervously.

“What the hell, Shigaraki?” Dabi drawled, raising an eyebrow as he leaned against the wall. “Didn’t know we were running a daycare now.”

“She’s staying,” Tomura said curtly, not bothering to explain.

Toga’s eyes lit up as she bounded over to Lila with a wide grin. “Oh my gosh, she’s adorable!” she squealed. “Can I keep her?”

“No,” Tomura snapped, pulling Lila closer.

The girl buried her face in his leg, clutching his pant leg tightly.

Spinner frowned. “And why exactly are we babysitting?”

Tomura shot him a glare. “Because I said so.”

Lila peeked out from behind Tomura, her voice muffled as she whispered, “Is this your house?”

Toga giggled. “Something like that, sweetie.”

“Do you have food?” Lila asked, her stomach growling audibly.

Tomura sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Spinner, get her something to eat.”

Over the next few days, Lila clung to Tomura like a lifeline. She followed him everywhere, her small hand always reaching for his whenever he moved. If he sat down, she was immediately in his lap, her rabbit nestled between them.

At first, it annoyed him. He wasn’t used to having someone so close all the time. But gradually, he found himself… tolerating her.

“Why do you scratch your neck all the time?” she asked one day, looking up at him with curious eyes.

Tomura froze mid-scratch, glaring at her. “None of your business.”

She tilted her head, unfazed by his sharp tone. “Does it hurt?”

He blinked, caught off guard. “No,” he muttered.

“Good,” she said simply, leaning her head against his arm.

One evening, as she sat in his lap drawing on a scrap of paper, Lila looked up at him with a serious expression.

“Why didn’t the heroes save Mama and Papa?” she asked softly.

Tomura’s chest tightened. He didn’t have an answer—at least, not one she would understand.

“They’re not as good as they want you to think,” he said finally.

She nodded, as if that made perfect sense. “I don’t like them,” she said. “They’re liars.”

For the first time in years, Tomura felt a strange, unfamiliar warmth in his chest.

“Don’t worry, kid,” he said, his voice low but firm. “They won't be there for long, i'll make sure of that.”

Lila smiled, reaching up to pat his face with her tiny hand. "Thank you. You’re a bit scary, but you’re not bad.”

Tomura stared at her, the weight of her words settling over him. She didn’t know it yet, but she was far more dangerous than he could ever be. And he would make sure no one took advantage of that.

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