#this one chapter almost doubled the word count lmao

[theetherealbloom]

IT COULD HAPPEN TO YOU - CH.7

Chapter Seven: What Are You Doing To Me Now?

Summary: You find yourself sharing a hotel suite with Pedro Pascal while working on the set of Fantastic Four: First Steps. Despite your different roles—he’s the star, and you’re behind the scenes. Nothing could ever happen between you two… right?

Paring: Pedro Pascal x F!Reader

Warnings: Age-Gap Romance (Not Specified), Eventual SMUT, Crush, FLUFF, Slight Angst, Trope(s), Swearing, Anxiety, Lots of Cliches, Cheesy Dialogue, Romance, Kissing, Real People Fiction, Cameras, Paparazzi, Social Media, Swoonworthy, One-Room Trope, They were roommates, Strangers-to-Lovers, Actors, Hallmark Tropes, the reader can sing and play guitar, the reader is shorter than Pedro, the reader has hair, Alternate Universe, Awkward!Reader, Shy!Reader, Fan Girl!Reader, Cringe, Embarrassment, Starstruck, 

Word Count: 8.3k

A/N: ISTG last chapter— ya’ll comments had me wheezing and dying of laughter PLEASE— MY BAD, I DIDN’T MEAN TO GIVE PEDRO A HEART ATTACK LMAOOOO. Anyways, enjoy this little filler of a chapter. That’s 8k words long LMAO…

Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Song: The blue by Gracie Abrams

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PINEWOOD STUDIOS — AFTERNOON

“You still need to change.”

The words tumble out before you can stop them, and you immediately want to crawl into a hole. Out of everything you could have said, that’s what your brain decided on?

Pedro blinks at you.

Then, as if just realizing it himself, he looks down at his suit—a bright, unmistakable blue, the bold insignia stretched across his chest.

Mr. Fantastic.

A literal superhero, walking through the lot, guiding you with steady hands like you were the fragile one. It’s so utterly absurd you almost laugh.

“Huh,” he says, eyebrows raising in mild amusement. “Guess I forgot.”

You shake your head, half-exasperated, half-fond. The adrenaline is starting to wear off, leaving a dull ache in its place, and for the first time since the accident, the weight of everything presses in.

The stitches in your arm pull when you move too fast, a sharp reminder that this was real. That you’d actually shoved Pedro out of the way and taken the hit yourself.

He hasn’t let you forget it, either.

Not in the way his fingers still ghost over your wrist, as if testing to make sure you’re solid. Not in the way he keeps looking at you, his expression unreadable, like he’s trying to work through something in his head but hasn’t found the words yet.

And now, on top of it all, you still need to check in with Jess, confirm with Matt that you’re cleared for the day, and figure out if you need to file for medical leave.

So much for an easy afternoon.

You make your way across the lot, Pedro still at your side, his presence warm and steady. When you find Matt and Jess, they’re already deep in conversation with Rob Beggs, the safety manager. The area where the light rig fell is cordoned off now, crew members carefully maneuvering around it as they assess the situation.

The moment Jess spots you, her face crumples into something equal parts relief and guilt.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” she asks, stepping forward like she wants to hug you but stops herself at the last second, eyeing your injured arm. “Shit, I’m so sorry—”

“Jess, no,” you interject quickly, shaking your head. “This wasn’t your fault. Accidents happen.”

“Still, I feel awful,” Matt adds, rubbing the back of his neck. “We should have double-checked the rigging before calling everyone in.”

“And we’re going to,” Rob says, tone firm but even. “I’m running a full investigation on this. We’ll figure out where the breakdown happened and make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

You nod, appreciating the sentiment but also not wanting to linger on it. The last thing you want is for everyone to start treating you like glass.

“I’m okay,” you say, offering them what you hope is a reassuring smile. “Just a few stitches. I’ll live.”

“Damn right you will,” a familiar voice cuts in.

Daisy.

She and Omar appear from the side, both of them looking equally relieved and exasperated.

“You scared the hell out of us,” Omar says, shaking his head. “One second everything was fine, and then—boom. We see you on the ground, bleeding.”

You wince. “Yeah. That part wasn’t fun.”

“No shit,” Daisy mutters. Then her eyes flick to Pedro, who still hasn’t strayed far from your side. Her gaze sharpens just slightly.

“You sticking to her like glue for the rest of the day or what?” she teases, but there’s an underlying note of curiosity there.

Pedro doesn’t even hesitate.

“Yep.”

You glance at him, surprised by how easily the answer leaves him. His expression is relaxed, but there’s something in his eyes, something quietly unwavering, that makes your stomach flip.

Daisy arches a brow, but she doesn’t push.

Instead, she just shakes her head, smirking slightly. “Figures.”

Omar huffs a laugh. “Well, at least she’s in good hands.”

You feel your face heat, and Pedro, the absolute menace, just looks utterly unbothered, like he was always meant to be standing here next to you. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Alright,” Jess sighs, rubbing her temples. “You’re cleared for the day. If you need extra time off, just let me know.”

You nod. “Thanks, Jess.”

“Now,” Matt adds, giving Pedro a once-over, “please tell me you’re not actually taking her back to the hotel like that.”

Pedro glances down at himself again.

Then he shrugs. “I dunno. Kinda think it adds character.”

You groan, covering your face with your good hand.

“Just go change, man,” Omar snorts.

Pedro grins, but then his attention shifts back to you, and the humor fades just slightly, replaced with something softer. Something quieter.

“I’ll be quick,” he says, voice low. “Stay here, okay?”

You nod, and the second he steps away, you exhale, feeling the weight of everything settle just a little heavier on your shoulders.

Daisy nudges you.

“So,” she drawls, a knowing glint in her eye. “Anything you wanna share?”

Your face burns.

“Nope.”

Omar snickers. “Yeah, sure.”

You huff, shaking your head, but you don’t say anything else. Because honestly?

You’re not sure how to explain what just happened.

Or how you’re supposed to go back to normal after it.

You don’t know how Pedro managed to convince Matt and Jess to call it an early day, but somehow, he did. Maybe it was the way he asked, firm yet gentle, leaving no room for argument, or maybe they saw the concern in his eyes—the kind that couldn’t be faked. Either way, production had been shut down for the day.

Besides, Rob had said they needed to check the cameras, review the footage, and determine exactly what went wrong.

Now, you were surrounded by Vanessa, Ebon, and Joseph, their voices overlapping as they checked in on you.

“Oh my god, are you sure you’re okay?” Vanessa asked, wide-eyed, her hand hovering near your arm as if she was scared you’d break.

“Yeah, you took quite the hit,” Ebon added, shaking his head. “Looked bad from where we were standing.”

Joseph crossed his arms, his brow furrowed. “They need to get that sorted out before we continue filming. It could’ve been worse.”

You nodded, offering them a small smile, trying to shake off the lingering adrenaline and the way their concern made you feel more fragile than you wanted to admit.

“I’m fine, really,” you reassured them. “Just a couple of stitches. No big deal.”

But your voice wavered slightly, betraying the truth. Your hands were still cold, your heart still hadn’t settled into its usual rhythm. You wanted to be strong—to be the girl who brushed things off with a laugh. You’d always been that girl.

Then Pedro emerged from his trailer.

He’d finally changed out of the Mr. Fantastic suit, trading in the blue spandex for a soft black sweater and dark jeans, but he still had that look—the same one he’d had since the moment the accident happened. Like he hadn’t been able to let out a full breath since.

His eyes found yours instantly.

“Hey.”

You swallowed, your mouth suddenly dry. “Hey.”

Pedro ignored everyone else, his focus entirely on you as he closed the distance between you. The warmth of his presence was immediate and grounding, and when he reached out—his fingers ghosting over the bandage on your forehead—you felt yourself sway slightly.

“You should be resting,” he murmured, his voice lower, softer, meant just for you.

“I’ll rest when I get home.”

His lips pressed into a thin line. “You sure you’re okay?”

You nodded, but something in your expression must’ve given you away, because Pedro exhaled through his nose, his hand coming up to cup the side of your face before he could think better of it.

“You scared the shit out of me.”

His thumb brushed over your cheekbone, barely there, but enough to send a shiver down your spine. You were very aware of the way the others had fallen silent, watching the moment unfold. But Pedro didn’t seem to care, and you... you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away.

“I didn’t mean to.” The words came out quieter than you intended.

His brows knit together like he was about to say something else, but then Matt called out from the other side of the lot, breaking the moment.

Pedro sighed, dropping his hand, but not before giving your shoulder a small squeeze. “Let me take you back to the hotel. You shouldn’t be dealing with all of this right now.”

Your instinct was to protest, to insist that you were fine, that you could handle it. But the truth was, the idea of getting away from set, from all the eyes and whispers, sounded... nice.

So you swallowed your pride, glanced up at Pedro, and nodded.

“Okay.”

His shoulders loosened slightly, like he’d been waiting for you to agree. “Okay.”

And just like that, he was guiding you toward the parking lot, his hand ghosting over your lower back, protective, steady, like he was ready to catch you if you stumbled.

You exhaled, letting yourself lean into the warmth of him, just a little. Just for now.

The black van was already waiting at the curb, engine humming softly as the late afternoon light spilled golden streaks over the lot. Pedro kept a firm but gentle hand on the small of your back as he guided you inside, like he was afraid you might disappear if he let go.  

Albert, the driver, glanced back as you climbed in. “Miss,” he greeted with a polite nod, his eyes flickering briefly to Pedro as if silently assessing whether you were okay.  

You gave him a small smile. “Hey, Albert.”  

Once everyone was settled, the doors shut with a soft thud, sealing you into the familiar bubble of the ride back to the hotel.  

“I think after today, we deserve drinks.” Joseph stretched out his legs with a groan, his head thumping lightly against the headrest. “Preferably something strong. Maybe something that could wipe today from my memory entirely.”  

You let out a quiet laugh but shook your head. “Thanks, but no alcohol for me.” You scrunched your nose, pulling a face. “Kind of wanna keep all my blood inside me for now.”  

Pedro made a noise next to you—something between amusement and disapproval—as he shot you a sidelong glance. “Yeah, no tequila shots for you, querida. Not when you just got stitched up.”  

“Ugh, I was gonna say wine, but sure, make me sound like a total mess,” Joseph quipped.  

Vanessa smirked. “You are a mess.”  

Ebon chuckled. “At least you admit it.”  

The conversation carried on, the lighthearted teasing making the tension from earlier slowly fade. You felt yourself relax, your body sinking a little deeper into the seat. But even as the laughter filled the van, you remained acutely aware of the warmth beside you—the way Pedro’s thigh pressed lightly against yours, the way his arm rested along the back of the seat, close but not quite touching you.  

And when you glanced at him, you found his gaze already on you, something unreadable in those deep brown eyes.  

You looked away first.

The drive back to the hotel stretched longer than expected, traffic turning the usual route into a slow crawl. London streets, thick with impatient drivers and red taillights, blurred into a haze outside the window. Rain had started to drizzle, streaking the glass with soft, uneven patterns. The low hum of conversation filled the van, punctuated by the occasional groan from Joseph whenever the vehicle lurched forward, only to stop again moments later.  

You let your head rest against the window, watching the world pass in slow motion. The warmth of the van, the steady rhythm of the rain, and the quiet murmur of voices lulled you into something close to drowsiness. Your body ached—not unbearably, but enough that exhaustion tugged at you with each passing second.  

Pedro shifted beside you, the movement drawing your attention. His arm, which had been loosely draped along the back of the seat, dipped slightly, fingertips ghosting over your shoulder in a touch so light you almost imagined it.  

“You okay?” His voice was low, meant only for you.  

You hummed, turning your head slightly but keeping your gaze on the rain-slicked streets. “Yeah. Just tired.”  

His fingers flexed, the briefest hesitation before he let his hand settle—gentle and warm—on your arm. Not overbearing. Just there. Just enough.  

You should sit up straighter. You should move, make some joke, shake off the way his presence settled around you like something protective, something safe. But you didn’t. Instead, you let yourself relax, the weight of exhaustion pressing heavier against you.  

The next time the van jolted to another stop, your body leaned instinctively toward the nearest solid thing—Pedro.  

You felt it the moment your head made contact with his shoulder. The way he stiffened, just for a beat, before exhaling like he’d been holding his breath. You started to move away, an apology forming on your lips, but before you could, his hand found your knee—just the lightest touch, grounding, reassuring.  

“Stay,” he murmured.  

You weren’t sure if he even realized he’d said it.  

But you did. And you stayed.  

The voices around you blended, fading into the background as your eyelids grew heavier. Pedro’s breathing was steady beneath your cheek, the rise and fall of his chest lulling you into something dangerously close to comfort. His scent—faint traces of cologne and whatever they used to take off the makeup from set—wrapped around you, familiar and warm.  

Outside, the rain kept falling. The city moved in slow motion.  

And in the middle of it all, you slept, tucked safely into the space Pedro had made for you.

Pedro stilled when he felt the full weight of you against him.  

At first, he thought you were just resting your eyes, letting exhaustion settle in after the long, chaotic day. But then your breathing slowed, deepened, the kind of rhythm that only came with sleep.  

Carefully, he glanced down at you. Your face was relaxed now, lips slightly parted, the tension that had clung to you all day finally melting away. A soft, barely-there snore slipped past your lips, and—fuck—his heart clenched.  

Then he felt it.  

A faint warmth against his shoulder.  

He shifted ever so slightly, and sure enough—yep. You were drooling.  

He should probably mind. He should probably shake you awake or shift you off of him. But the thought didn’t even cross his mind.  

Instead, he swallowed past the lump in his throat and stayed perfectly still.  

Because if this was all he got—this fleeting moment of quiet, of you trusting him enough to let your guard down, to lean on him like this—he wasn’t about to ruin it.  

Still, guilt gnawed at him. The scene kept playing in his head. The accident. The way his stomach had dropped when he saw you hit the ground. The way you had looked up at him afterward, trying to play it off like it was nothing, even though he knew better. Even though he knew you.  

He could have lost you today.  

The thought made his grip tighten ever so slightly against his knee, his other hand twitching with the urge to reach for you. To make sure you were really here.  

And then there was that look.  

The one you had given him. The one that sent something sharp and undeniable curling in his chest. The one that told him—without words—that whatever this was between you, it wasn’t just in his head.  

He could have kissed you then.  

He should have.  

But it hadn’t been the right time. Not after what had happened. Not when you were still reeling from it, still patching yourself up.  

But fuck, it’s going to keep him up at night.  

He wants you.  

And he knows—knows—that you want him too.  

The van hit another bump, jostling you slightly, and instinctively, he shifted, tucking you closer so your head wouldn’t slip from his shoulder.  

You murmured something in your sleep, a soft sigh, curling the tiniest bit toward him. And Pedro?  

Pedro let himself enjoy it. Just for now. Just for tonight.

CHILTERN FIREHOUSE HOTEL — EVENING  

A gentle voice coaxed you from sleep.  

“We’re here.”  

You stirred, warmth pressed against your cheek, the rhythmic hum of the van’s engine fading as the vehicle rolled to a stop. Your mind felt sluggish, still tangled in the remnants of sleep, but then—oh God.  

Your head had been resting on him.  

Panic flickered through you as you jerked upright, realizing with horror that you had not only slept on Pedro’s shoulder but also left a small damp patch on the fabric of his hoodie.  

“Oh my—shit.” You wiped hastily at your mouth, mortified. “I didn’t mean to—Jesus, I drooled all over you. I’m so—”  

Pedro chuckled, low and amused, shaking his head. “It’s fine.” His voice softened. “Just don’t move too much. Remember—your stitches.”  

The reminder stopped you in your tracks. Right. Your stitches. Your ribs ached dully, a reminder of the accident earlier on set. You swallowed, nodding.  

“Right,” you murmured.  

Across from you, Joseph twisted in his seat, smirking slightly. “You good?”  

“Yeah.” Your voice was still rough with sleep. You cleared your throat and tried again. “M’good.”  

Vanessa gave you a sympathetic look, her expression warm. “You should probably head up and rest.”  

You nodded again, still feeling a little disoriented. The van door slid open, letting in the cool London air. One by one, everyone filed out, stretching and murmuring about what to do next. Pedro moved to step out, then hesitated, glancing back at you.  

“You coming?” he asked, voice low, just for you.  

You blinked, forcing yourself to move. Your limbs felt heavy, your body still craving rest. As you started to climb out, your footing wavered slightly—maybe from exhaustion, maybe from the dull ache in your side.  

Pedro was there in an instant.  

His hand hovered near the small of your back, not quite touching, but close enough to steady you. Close enough to say, I’ve got you.  

You inhaled, just for a moment, letting yourself take comfort in his presence. 

The warmth of the hotel lobby wrapped around you as you stepped inside, the soft hum of distant conversation and the faint scent of polished wood and expensive cologne filling the air. Pedro stayed close, his presence a quiet reassurance, his hand hovering near your lower back again, never quite touching, but there.  

You made your way toward the elevators, pressing the call button. When the doors slid open, you stepped inside with a sigh, exhaustion settling deep into your bones. You tapped your keycard, pressing the button for your floor before instinctively pressing Pedro’s as well.  

“Nope,” he said immediately, crossing his arms.  

You turned, blinking up at him. “What?”  

“You’re staying with me tonight.”  

Your lips parted in surprise. “Excuse me?”  

Pedro sighed, like he had already expected you to put up a fight. “Someone needs to look after you.”  

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “Pedro, I’ll be fine. They’re just stitches. I’m just gonna head to bed early—” You punctuated the statement with a yawn, covering your mouth with the back of your hand.  

Pedro gave you that look. That firm, stubborn, no-room-for-argument look, the one you’d seen him use when he was absolutely set on something.  

You narrowed your eyes. “What?”  

“Just stay in the suite,” he said, softer this time. “Please. You can use your old room.”  

Your brows furrowed. “Pedro, my stuff is still in my room.”  

“Then I’ll stay with you.”  

Your breath hitched. “What?”  

Pedro shrugged, like it was the most casual suggestion in the world. “If you won’t stay in my suite, then I’ll stay in yours.”  

You stared at him, your heart thudding a little too loudly in your ears. The idea of sharing a space with Pedro for the night—of waking up knowing he was just a room away, of the quiet intimacy of existing in the same space—made your stomach flip.  

“You don’t have to do that,” you said, voice quieter now.  

He tilted his head, studying you. “I want to.”  

The elevator dinged, signaling your floor. The doors slid open, but neither of you moved. The air between you was charged, thick with something unspoken, something there.  

You hesitated. He was giving you a choice.  

You exhaled, already knowing you were going to give in before the words even left your mouth.  

“Fine…” you muttered, crossing your arms. “If it makes you feel better.” You glanced up at him and sighed. “Now put away your puppy eyes.”  

Pedro grinned, all smug warmth and victory, but there was something softer in his eyes—relief, maybe. Like he was glad you weren’t pushing him away.  

“I’ll just grab some of my stuff. I’ll be right back,” he said, already stepping back toward the elevator panel to press his floor again.  

You shot him a teasing look. “Better hurry, or I might just pass out before you get there.”  

Pedro narrowed his eyes playfully. “Seven minutes,” he said, like it was a challenge.  

You smirked as the doors slid shut, leaving you alone with the quiet hum of the hallway.  

By the time you got to your room, exhaustion was already creeping in. You barely had the energy to kick off your shoes before flopping onto the bed, sighing into the plush comforter. You told yourself you’d just close your eyes for a moment—just a second.  

Then, exactly seven minutes later, the sound of your doorbell rang through the room.

You rolled off the bed with a groggy sigh, rubbing your eyes as you shuffled toward the door. When you pulled it open, Pedro was standing there, looking so effortlessly comfortable it made your stomach flip.  

A plain black tee stretched across his broad chest, the soft fabric hanging loosely over the curve of his arms. Grey sweatpants sat low on his hips, the kind that made your brain short-circuit for a second longer than you wanted to admit. He’d traded his usual contacts for his square-framed glasses, the ones that made him look just a little too good, like a university professor who knew exactly how to ruin you with a well-placed argument.  

In one hand, he held a small duffle bag, the strap slung over his shoulder like he belonged here, like this was routine. Like you’d done this before.  

Pedro’s gaze flicked over you, taking in your half-lidded eyes and the way you leaned against the doorframe, still fighting off the edges of sleep.  

“You didn’t pass out,” he noted, amused.  

“Almost did,” you mumbled, stepping back to let him in.  

Pedro walked past you, his familiar scent trailing after him—clean, warm, a mix of something woody and subtle, like cedar and spice. He moved easily around the space, setting his bag down by the chair, toeing off his sneakers before glancing back at you.  

“You should get some rest,” he said, softer now.  

You folded your arms over your chest, suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that you were still in the clothes you wore earlier, your sweater slightly rumpled from your half-nap. “I was resting until someone rang my doorbell exactly seven minutes after leaving.”  

Pedro just smiled, unapologetic. “I said I’d be quick.”  

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight the small grin tugging at your lips.  

Then, as if the weight of the day finally caught up to him, Pedro let out a long breath, rubbing a hand over his jaw before tilting his head at you. His gaze softened, the humor fading just a little.  

“How’s your side?”  

You hesitated, glancing down like you could see the stitches through your clothes. “Fine,” you said, but it wasn’t very convincing.  

Pedro’s brows pulled together. “Let me see.”  

You blinked. “What?”  

“Just—let me check, make sure it’s not bleeding or anything.”  

You frowned, the shyness creeping back in. “Pedro, I can—”  

“You could,” he interrupted gently, stepping closer, “but you won’t.” His voice dipped into something quieter, something coaxing. “Just let me take care of you, okay?”  

Your breath hitched.  

You should’ve argued, should’ve batted away his concern with another stubborn insistence that you were fine. But he was looking at you like that—like you were something fragile and precious, something worth worrying over.  

And maybe a part of you wanted to be taken care of.  

You swallowed, nodding once.  

Pedro exhaled, something unspoken passing between you, before he gestured toward the bed. “Sit.”  

You did.  

He knelt in front of you, hands careful as he helped you lift the hem of your sweater, just enough to check the bandages covering your side. His fingers barely grazed your skin, but it was enough to send a shiver up your spine.  

Pedro stilled.  

His gaze flicked up to yours, like he’d felt it too.  

For a moment, neither of you moved. The room felt smaller, the air thicker.  

Then, finally, he spoke—voice rough, quiet.  

“You scared the shit out of me today.”

“So you’ve said…” You mumbled.

Pedro huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he carefully smoothed the fabric of your sweater back down. His hands lingered for half a second too long, fingertips brushing against your waist before he pulled away.  

“You’re impossible,” he muttered, but there was no real bite to it—just exhaustion, something fond underneath.  

You swallowed past the warmth creeping up your neck and cleared your throat. “I, uh—I need to shower.”  

Pedro’s expression shifted instantly, concern knitting his brows together. “Careful with your stitches.”  

“I know,” you sighed, already pushing yourself up from the bed. “I just—” You hesitated, suddenly aware of how gross you felt. Your sweater was stiff in places, dried with sweat and blood, and your skin itched from the grime of the day. “I just need to wash this all off.”  

Pedro’s gaze softened, but his jaw ticked, like he was biting back a hundred different things he wanted to say.  

Instead, he nodded. “Okay.”  

You quickly gathered your pajamas and underwear, started toward the bathroom, then paused at the door, glancing over your shoulder. “Don’t—” You hesitated, shifting awkwardly. “Don’t leave, okay?”  

Pedro blinked, something flickering behind his eyes before he nodded again. “I won’t.”  

That was all you needed.  

You closed the bathroom door behind you and exhaled, pressing your forehead against the cool wood for a second longer than necessary. Your heart was beating too fast.  

You shook it off, moving to turn on the water, making sure it wasn’t too hot—you didn’t want to irritate the stitches. The mirror caught your reflection, and you winced. You looked exhausted, dark circles under your eyes, dried blood streaked near your collar. No wonder Pedro had been hovering.  

Carefully, you peeled off your clothes, mindful of your injury as you stepped under the spray. Warm water cascaded over you, washing away the dirt and the tension, and you sighed in relief.  

The moment you stepped out of the bathroom, warmth wrapped around you—not just from the plush hotel robe you’d thrown on, but from the scent of food lingering in the air. Something rich, comforting.  

Pedro sat on the edge of the couch, scrolling through his phone, but his head snapped up the second he heard you. His eyes flickered over you, scanning for any signs of discomfort, lingering too long on the bandages at your side before he forced himself to meet your gaze.  

He offered you a small smile. “I ordered room service for dinner. Figured you needed something to eat before your next set of meds.”  

Your stomach answered before you could, a low grumble betraying just how little you’d eaten today.  

Pedro smirked. “Guess I made the right call.”  

You rolled your eyes, but the truth was, you were grateful. The thoughtfulness of it made your chest ache in a way that had nothing to do with your stitches.  

“What’d you get?” You padded over, tucking damp hair behind your ear as you settled onto the small couch beside him.  

“Chicken soup, because, you know—doctor’s orders.” He lifted the lid with a flourish, steam curling into the air. “And some pasta, just in case you wanted something more solid.”  

Your lips twitched. “You really thought this through, huh?”  

Pedro shrugged, too casual. “You’re my responsibility tonight.”  

Something about the way he said it made your breath catch. He didn’t say it like it was an obligation. He said it like it was a fact. Like he wanted it to be.  

You looked away, focusing on the soup as you picked up a spoon. “Thanks,” you murmured.  

Pedro watched you for a beat before nodding. “Anytime.”

The silence between you was warm, familiar. The kind that didn’t need to be filled.  

You focused on your food, spooning up the broth, letting the heat soothe you from the inside out. The warmth of it settled deep in your chest, easing away the tightness that had been there since the accident. Pedro had been right—this was exactly what you needed.  

Across from you, Pedro twirled his fork through his pasta absentmindedly, but he wasn’t eating much. His eyes kept flicking toward you, like he was checking, making sure you were still here, still breathing.  

“You should eat,” you murmured, not looking up from your bowl.  

Pedro let out a small breath of amusement. “You sound like me.”  

You lifted a brow. “Guess it’s contagious.”  

He smirked but didn’t argue, finally taking a bite of his food. You kept eating, but the weight of his gaze never fully left you. It sat there, unspoken, lingering between the spaces of your breath and the scrape of silverware against ceramic.  

After a while, you set your spoon down and leaned back against the couch, stretching your legs out. Pedro’s eyes flickered to your bandages again, his jaw tightening slightly.  

Pedro’s gaze flickered down to your bandages again, his jaw tightening slightly.  

“You have no idea how much you worried me today,” he murmured, voice rough around the edges.  

You exhaled slowly. “I know.”  

“I mean it,” he said, setting his plate aside. He shifted closer, his knee brushing against yours, grounding himself in the warmth of you. “One second, you were fine, and the next…” He shook his head, running a hand through his curls. “I keep thinking—if things had gone differently…”  

“Hey.” Your voice was soft but firm. You reached out without thinking, resting a hand over his. His fingers twitched under yours, like he was resisting the urge to hold on.  

“I’m okay,” you reassured him. “It was just an accident.”  

Pedro let out a humorless huff. “That doesn’t make it any less terrifying.”  

You swallowed, your fingers curling slightly over his. “I know.”  

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The distant sounds of the city hummed beyond the hotel window, the murmur of footsteps passing by in the hallway. But here, in this quiet little bubble, it was just the two of you.  

Pedro’s fingers twitched again, then slowly, finally, curled around yours. He didn’t squeeze, didn’t hold too tightly. Just enough to tell you he was still here. That he wasn’t letting go.  

Your throat felt tight, emotions tangling up somewhere in your chest.  

“Pedro,” you started, but you didn’t know what to say.  

He looked at you then, really looked at you. And for the first time all night, you didn’t look away.  

There was something in his eyes—something raw, something real. It made your heart stumble in your chest.  

He swallowed, his voice barely above a whisper. “You need to drink your meds.”

“Right.” You nodded and reached for the bottle of water on the nightstand and twisted the cap off with a sigh. Pedro, ever watchful, pushed the packet of pills closer to you with two fingers.  

“Go on,” he urged, tilting his head.  

You huffed but took the meds anyway, popping them into your mouth and swallowing them down with a gulp of water. The whole time, Pedro watched you like a hawk, arms crossed over his chest, his face full of barely restrained concern.  

“There. Happy?” you mumbled, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.  

Pedro narrowed his eyes slightly, but the corner of his mouth twitched. “Very.”  

“You’re being a little much,” you teased, setting the bottle down.  

He arched a brow. “A little much?”  

“You’re hovering. You’re being—” You gestured vaguely at him. “Like a mother hen.”  

Pedro let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “Damn right I am. Someone’s gotta make sure you’re not out here trying to tough it out on your own.”  

You looked away, your fingers fidgeting in your lap. He wasn’t wrong. You’d spent so much of your life trying to prove that you didn’t need anyone, that you could handle things on your own. But having him here, fussing over you, making sure you took your meds, ordering you food—it was… nice.  

Really nice.  

You cleared your throat, suddenly feeling warm all over. “Well, thanks,” you muttered, voice softer this time.  

Pedro studied you for a beat, then gave a small nod, like he understood. Like he saw right through you.  

You busied yourself adjusting the pillows, trying to ignore how much your heart was racing. But then you froze.  

There was only one bed.  

Your eyes darted to Pedro’s, and you saw the exact moment he noticed, too. His lips parted slightly, gaze flicking from you to the bed and back again.  

“Oh,” you said.  

Pedro exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his neck. “I can take the floor.”  

You blinked. “What?”  

“The floor,” he repeated. “I’ll sleep there.”  

You frowned, looking between him and the thick, undoubtedly uncomfortable carpet. “Absolutely the fuck not.”  

Pedro smirked, clearly amused by your sudden shift in tone. “Wow. Strong words.”  

“I’m serious, Pedro.” You crossed your arms. “Your back will hate you forever.”  

His smirk widened into a grin. “Are you calling me old?”  

Your mouth opened, then closed. “No! I—I’m just saying, you’ll wake up sore as hell and—ugh.” You groaned, pressing your fingers to your temples.  

Pedro chuckled, shaking his head. “Relax, I’m just messing with you.”  

You glared at him, flustered beyond belief. “Not funny.”  

“Very funny.”  

You threw a pillow at him. He caught it effortlessly, still grinning like a damn idiot.  

“You’re sleeping in the bed,” you grumbled, trying to regain some of your dignity.  

Pedro held up his hands in mock surrender. “Fine. But if I wake up with an elbow to the ribs, I’m filing a complaint.”  

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight the smile tugging at your lips.  

One bed. Pedro Pascal. You.  

You were doomed.

You climb into bed first, carefully maneuvering around your injury as you settle against the pillows. Pedro follows soon after, turning off the last of the lights, leaving only the bedside lamp casting a soft, golden glow over the room. The space between you is small—closer than what two people who are just friends probably should be—but neither of you move to fix it.  

For a moment, the only sounds in the room are the quiet hum of the heater and the occasional creak of the hotel settling. Then, Pedro shifts slightly, resting his head on his hand as he looks at you.  

“Isn’t it weird?” he murmurs.  

You blink sleepily. “What?”  

“You changed rooms… and now we’re in the same bed.” His voice is thoughtful, like he’s only just realizing the weight of the situation.  

You snort. “Maybe I’m cursed.”  

Pedro chuckles, low and warm. “Nah, can’t be cursed if you end up spending more time with me.” His grin is downright smug.  

You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling. “Okay, superstar, calm down.”  

Pedro huffs out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “I’m just saying. If this is a curse, it’s not a bad one.”  

You open your mouth to argue—because really, who just casually says things like that?—but the words catch in your throat when you realize how close he really is. His face is relaxed in the dim light, his eyes dark and unreadable, his curls a little mussed from the day.  

Your heart stumbles.  

It should be weird, lying here with him like this, but somehow… it isn’t.  

Somehow, it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

The quiet hum of the night settles around you, the warmth of the sheets and the steady presence of Pedro beside you making it all too easy to forget the chaos of the day.  

You should be sleeping, but instead, you’re scrolling on your phone, the dim glow illuminating your face as you read. The soft, rhythmic sound of Pedro’s breathing makes you think he’s fallen asleep—until his voice rumbles low in the quiet.  

“You always do that before bed?”  

You nearly jump, clutching your phone against your chest. “Do what?”  

Pedro’s lips twitch in amusement. “Read.”  

You swallow. Shit.  

“Yeah?” you say, trying to sound nonchalant.  

Pedro props himself up on one elbow, peering at your phone. “What are you reading?”  

Your body goes rigid. Oh god.  

You’re reading fanfiction. Specifically, his character’s fanfiction.  

Absolutely not. You cannot let this man know.  

“Nothing,” you say too quickly, locking your phone and placing it screen-down on the nightstand.  

Pedro raises a brow, clearly unconvinced. “Uh-huh. Sure.”  

You can feel the heat creeping up your neck, and you turn away, mumbling, “It’s nothing important.”  

Pedro hums, amused, but thankfully doesn’t push further. Instead, he settles back down, stretching one arm under the pillow.  

“Alright, secrets,” he teases, voice laced with sleep. “Guess I’ll just have to wonder.”  

You groan. “Go to sleep, Pedro.”  

He chuckles, the sound warm and deep. “Fine, fine.”  

A comfortable silence blankets the room, the kind that makes your eyelids grow heavier. The warmth of Pedro beside you—solid, steady, real—only adds to it, pulling you deeper into rest.  

And before you know it, you’re asleep.

CHILTERN FIREHOUSE HOTEL — EARLY MORNING

The muffled chime of your alarm cuts through the quiet, dragging you from the depths of sleep. You groan, blindly reaching for your phone on the nightstand, smacking at the screen until the sound dies out.

As you settle back into the pillows, intending to steal a few more minutes of sleep, that's when you feel it.

Warmth. Solid and everywhere.

Your drowsy brain takes a second to catch up, to process the strong arm slung over your waist, the steady rise and fall of a broad chest against your back, the way his legs are tangled with yours, locking you in place.

And then—oh.

Something hard presses against the curve of your ass.

Your breath catches.

Oh.

Heat floods your face instantly. The realization slams into you with the force of a freight train. Pedro is wrapped around you, his body flush against yours, and—yep, there’s no mistaking that.

You go completely still, hoping—praying—that maybe, maybe he’s still asleep, that he’s not aware of how intimately you’re pressed together.

A slow, deep inhale against your shoulder tells you otherwise.

Shit.

You can feel the moment he wakes up, the way his breathing shifts, the faintest tensing of his muscles. And then—

A sleepy, raspy groan vibrates against your skin.

Pedro shifts slightly behind you, his grip on your waist tightening for the briefest moment before his entire body goes rigid.

Silence.

You can practically hear the gears turning in his still half-asleep brain.

“…Fuck,” he mutters under his breath.

Your entire body feels like it’s on fire.

His hand flexes against your stomach before he very, very slowly starts to pull away, but in doing so, he shifts again—and you feel everything for a split second longer than you should.

A tiny, humiliating sound escapes the back of your throat.

Pedro freezes.

Oh, god. Kill me now.

“…Did you just whimper?” His voice is still thick with sleep, rough and laced with amusement.

“No…” you mumble, barely above a whisper.

He shifts slightly, just enough for you to feel him again, solid and unmistakable.

Your breath stutters.

Pedro lets out a low, knowing chuckle, his lips brushing against your shoulder as he murmurs, “Mmm. I think you did.”

You want to die.

Or maybe kill him. Either option seems preferable to this moment.

“You’re imagining things,” you mutter, voice strained as you try to ignore the way heat licks up your spine.

“Am I?” His arm tightens slightly around your waist, his fingers splaying against your stomach in a way that makes your breath catch.

God, he’s so warm.

You swallow, heart hammering against your ribs. “Pedro.”

Pedro hums in response, low and teasing, the sound vibrating against your skin.  

You shiver, heat pooling deep in your stomach. He’s still so close—his breath warm against your jaw, his fingers resting against your waist, firm and grounding.  

You don’t know who moves first.  

Maybe it’s you, tilting your head just slightly, your lips parting in anticipation. Or maybe it’s him, the way his nose grazes your cheek, the way he exhales shakily, like he’s been fighting this just as much as you have.  

And then his lips are on yours.  

Soft at first, like he’s giving you the chance to pull away, to stop this before it can spiral into something neither of you can take back.  

But you don’t pull away.  

Instead, you press into him, fingers gripping onto the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer.  

Pedro groans low in his throat, something almost desperate unraveling between you. His hand slips under your shirt, fingers splaying against the bare skin of your waist, not pushing—just holding. His lips part against yours, deepening the kiss, tongue sweeping against yours in a slow, intoxicating glide.  

You sigh into him, utterly lost in the way he tastes, the way he feels.  

Then he shifts, leaning more of his weight onto you, and a sharp twinge shoots through your side. You inhale sharply, wincing.  

Pedro immediately freezes.  

His lips break from yours, breath warm and uneven against your jaw. “Shit.” He pulls back, eyes scanning your face, concern flickering in the deep brown of his gaze. “Did I—did I hurt you?”  

You shake your head, blinking away the haze of want clouding your thoughts. “No, I’m okay. Just… a little sore.”  

His lips press into a thin line, and then he’s pulling away completely, his hands gentle as he brushes a thumb over your hip. “I shouldn’t have—”  

You cut him off with a soft laugh. “Pedro, you didn’t break me.”  

His brows pinch together, still looking unsure. But then his gaze flickers to the clock on the nightstand, and he mutters a quiet fuck.  

You glance at the time. “What?”  

“I have to be on set in thirty minutes.” He groans, rubbing a hand down his face. “I gotta get dressed.”  

Your heart sinks.  

You don’t even try to hide it, the disappointment settling deep in your bones. But it’s not just that he has to leave—it’s the way he pulls away so fast, the way his hands are gone from your skin, the way reality rushes back in like a cold slap to the face.  

What if that kiss was a mistake? 

What if he didn’t mean it, not really? What if it was just the heat of the moment, an impulse he already regrets?  

You swallow hard, trying to school your expression, trying not to let the spiral show on your face.  

But Pedro catches it anyway.  

He stops halfway through buttoning his shirt, his gaze snapping to yours. His brows furrow, that warm, knowing look settling into his features. “No.”  

You blink. “What?”  

He shakes his head, stepping closer, voice firm. “No. I know that face.”  

You press your lips together, looking away, but Pedro doesn’t let you retreat.  

His fingers find your chin, tilting your face back toward him. His eyes are soft, earnest, searching yours. “That kiss wasn’t a mistake.”  

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out.  

Pedro exhales, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek. “I like you.” His voice is rough, almost exasperated, like he can’t believe he even has to say it out loud. “Fuck, I like you.”  

Your stomach flips. “You do?”  

His lips twitch into a small, crooked smile. “Yeah. I do.” He presses his forehead against yours, letting out a breathy chuckle. “And I really wish I didn’t have to leave right now.”  

You let out a soft laugh, the tension in your chest easing just a little. “Me too.”  

Pedro lingers a second longer before groaning, pulling away. “Okay. I really do have to go.” He finishes buttoning his shirt in record time, shoving on his jacket, running a hand through his messy hair.  

And yet—before he reaches the door, he turns back, pointing at you. “Take your meds. We’ll talk more later when I get back.”  

You roll your eyes. “Yes, dad.”  

“I’m serious,” he says, giving you a pointed look. “Rest, take your meds, don’t do anything stupid.”  

You huff, crossing your arms. “You’re really bossy, you know that?”  

Pedro smirks, walking backward toward the door. “Yeah? And you really like it.”  

You grab a pillow and launch it at him.  

He laughs, catching it before it can hit the floor, and then he’s gone—leaving behind the ghost of his touch, the lingering taste of his lips, and the undeniable truth that you are absolutely, utterly screwed.

The moment the door clicks shut, you stare at it for a solid five seconds.  

Then—  

You let out a muffled squeal, practically throwing yourself onto the bed, hugging your pillow close to your chest as you kick your feet.  

Oh my god.  

Oh. My. God.  

Did that really just happen? Did Pedro fucking Pascal just kiss you? Did he say—no, did he actually say he likes you? Out loud? Like, in real life?  

You bury your face into the pillow, squeezing your eyes shut. This has to be a dream. Some fever-induced hallucination from the painkillers, because there is no way this is actually happening to you.  

Your stomach flips as you replay every second of it—the warmth of his hands on your skin, the way his lips moved against yours, the way he groaned into your mouth. Jesus. Your body feels like it’s buzzing, and you don’t know if you’ll ever recover from this.  

Then, like a bucket of cold water, a terrifying realization crashes over you.  

He doesn’t know. 

You push yourself up, staring blankly at the wall as the horror sinks in.  

He doesn’t know you’ve been reading fanfiction about him. About his characters. About him doing things that— 

You slap a hand over your mouth.  

Oh God.  

This is the worst thing that has ever happened to you.  

What if he ever finds out? What if he ever catches you again, peeking at your phone, and this time you don’t have the composure to hide it? What if he sees the ungodly amount of saved bookmarks you have?  

You flop back onto the bed, groaning into your pillow.  

Oh. Oh no.  

The fanfiction was bad enough. But then—  

Your stomach drops.  

The TikTok edits.  

The candid photos.  

The folder.  

You physically sit up in bed, gripping the pillow like it’s the only thing tethering you to reality. The folder on your phone—hidden in the depths of your camera roll, labeled something totally inconspicuous like Receipts or Taxes—is filled with candid pictures, behind-the-scenes clips, and so many thirst edits of Pedro Pascal set to unholy audio.  

You squeeze your eyes shut, cringing so hard your whole body tenses.  

You can never let him near your phone.  

Ever.  

What if he finds the one edit with him as Jack Daniels? The one that made you short-circuit the first time you saw it? Or the compilation of him laughing, looking stupidly charming, set to some overly romantic Taylor Swift song?  

Jesus Christ.  

You groan, flopping back against the pillows, dragging your hands down your face.  

This is bad.  

Like, really bad.  

Because not only have you been a lowkey (very highkey) fangirl for years, but now you’ve kissed him. Now he likes you. Now there’s a very real possibility that this could actually go somewhere.  

And if he ever finds out just how deep your obsession goes?  

You’re changing your name and moving to a remote island.

End Notes:

Well… IT HAS BEEN HINTED AT. TIME AND TIME AGAIN. That you are a fan girl so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Oh God, what if he finds out 😃

Ya’ll they kissed! YAYYY!!

Awww you have a week off to rest and heal up girlieeee heuheuh

Look at Pedro being a mind reader. Love that for you!

We love a reassuring king. Gimme that shit. 

Yes, this is a little filler chapter before absolute chaos… oh hrm I meant… nothing what?

TAGLIST: @comfortzonequeen @christinamadsen @liciafonseca @greenwitchfromthewoods @iqr-x @southernbe @maryfanson @brittmb115 @taytay0403 @whimsiwitchy @zymiii @sarahhxx03 @leilanixx @lilasskicker-23 @https-murdock @barnescamboy @widowsvail @senhoritamayblog @morganlolitta @suzysface @reidsworld @xmaykeca @dontlookatme121 @mandaloriankait @picketniffler @pedrofan @mystickittytaco @enchantingchildkitten @seven-seas-of-fuck-you @ro-nahime-things @senhoritamayblog @hermionelove @ashhlsstuff @hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall @youusunshineyoutemptress @klajmekkk @aomi-nabi

[galaxyseclipse]

RAAAAGGHH

Confusing Happiness chapter 4, baybee!

I'm just gonna copy the disclaimer that I put on that page here rq, just to be safe:

Alright, you know how the tags on this mention self harm and suicidal thoughts? But only in one chapter? This is that chapter. If you're not in a place to read stuff like that, I completely understand and am 110% okay with you skipping this one. In fact, I'm encouraging it. If you wanna at least read some of it, you should be okay up until the line, "Everything after that is kinda a blur and a haze", after that things start going south. The next chapter should be at least a little lighter, so I'll see you then :)

[thetriumphantpanda]

Come Away With Me | Joel & Tommy Miller (Saturday)

Summary | Back together as a family, but with a secret confession burning in your pocket. How is Tommy going to take the fact that you love his brother more than you probably should?

Word Count | 4.8K

Chapter Warnings | Our family back together. Mentions of consumption of alcohol & food. Explicit sex. Unprotecting PiV, breeding kink, (double)creampie (I said what I said👀), cum play, a sprinkling of anal/ass play, threesome dynamics (MMF), dirty talk, Tommy back to being our favourite cuck in the room kinda, Joel back to being our favourite breeding stud.

Authors Note | I.... actually think I hate this lmao. It's the first time I've felt meh about a chapter of this story, but the longer I look at it, the more I know I'll hate it, so I'm sharing it anyway. It's refreshing to have our trio back together though, they're as filthy as ever so I hope you all enjoy it! Two more chapters to go until we wrap up with these three and I am so emotional. If you enjoy this, please consider commenting, reblogging or coming into my ask box to scream with me. And, as always, If you want to support me, you can donate to my Ko-Fi.

A reminder that I no longer use taglists - to keep up with my writing, please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs and turn on notifications to keep up to date.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

Joel wakes the next morning to you wriggling about in his arms. He cracks an eye open just enough to see you clambering to straddle his lap, palms resting on his biceps to steady yourself as you lower your pussy onto him, already hard, to drag him through your folds, already soaked for him, or maybe still soaked from him from last night. 

“Mornin’ trouble,” He speaks, voice still heavy with sleep, “What are you up to?” 

His hands shift to your hips so you don’t stop those slow glides of your silken folds across him, watching as you shift your face from watching between you, to his own face. You bite at your bottom lip, bashful like a child who has been caught doing something they shouldn’t be. 

“We could have fucked all day yesterday,” You drawl out, gasping as the head of his cock brushes against your clit, “I’m just trying to make up for lost time before we have a houseful of people.” 

He drags your hips back and forth over him, watching as you toss your head back and gasp with every pass of him over your clit. He’s trying not to think about the fact that in a few short hours, you’re not going to be his anymore, you’ll go back to being his brother’s, a façade kept up for the sake of the rest of your family. He pushes those thoughts to the back of his mind, sitting up so he can wrap his arms around your back and kiss you. 

“You gonna ride me, pretty girl?” He murmurs against your lips, “Gonna sit on my cock and make yourself feel good?” 

You pull back, look right into his eyes, hips still grinding against his, “Fuck yeah,” You breathe, “Can I?” 

“Such a good girl,” He growls into the skin of your neck, “Askin’ all pretty and polite like that,” He settles himself back on the bed, head on the pillows, “Go on, pretty girl, take whatever you need from me.” 

You use your hands that are back on his chest to push yourself up a little, reaching one hand down between you to grip the base of his cock, lining it up to your soaked core, before you sink down onto him in one go, burying him inside you to the hilt. He groans, and you cry out, feeling that twinge of pain along with the pleasure that has been so prevalent over those past few days. 

You lift yourself up, almost all the way off him, sinking back down, finding your rhythm, which Joel quickly adheres to, thrusting himself up into you on your downward strokes so his cock is brushing against your cervix almost every time. His hands favour your tits this morning, cupping the weight of them in his palms as his fingers roll your nipples into peaks, squeezing perfectly every once in a while, to add to the mix of pleasure you get from him spearing his cock into you. 

You lean back, motions moving to more of a grind on his cock as you cup his balls in your hand, rolling them gently in your hand, as Joel’s own fingers slip down your body and find your swollen clit, thumb rubbing circles across it as you continue to grind on him. 

“You gonna come on my cock, pretty girl?” He asks, as if he doesn’t already know the answer. 

Heat is licking at the base of your spine, threatening to topple you over at any moment, and you can tell from the way his hips are stuttering up into you, that Joel is close as well. You’ve had each other too many times this week for this to last very long. 

“Fuck- keep going,” You groan, feeling that tight knot threatening to come undone in your tummy, “I’m – holy shit – I’m gonna come.” 

“Go on, pretty girl,” Joel coaxes, thumb staying exactly where it is, doing exactly what it needs to do, “Come for me.” 

And you do. Pussy clenching around his cock as you fall forward. Joel’s arms wrapped around you, keeping you pressed to his chest as he takes control, thrusting up into you as you moan into the skin of his neck. He chases your high with his own, spilling into you just seconds after your own climax hits, his fingers digging into the skin of your back as he holds you tightly to his body. 

As you both lie there, catching your breath, he wants to say something. Wants to push the hair from your face, kiss the tip of your nose and tell you that he wishes this didn’t have to end. Wishes that he didn’t have to wait a month to find out if he was successful in giving you another baby. Joel selfishly wishes he hasn’t, just so he doesn’t have to go back to waiting for that one night a year. He remembers though, his words from last night, that he’s trusting you to fix this, to come up with some solution that means he can have you differently going forward, so he keeps his mouth shut, only opening it once he’s pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. 

“I love you.” 

Breakfast is a cobbled together affair of fruit and coffee considering most of the groceries you’d bought together have been eaten. You sent Tommy a list of things for him to pick up on his way to you. He’d set off yesterday, stopping halfway to spend the night somewhere, not convinced that Joshua would cope with doing the whole journey at once, and it shouldn’t be long until they’re here, Sarah too. 

“Excited, baby?” Joel asks, pressing you against the counter to dip and kiss you once you’ve both finished the washing up. 

“I am going to give my baby the biggest squeeze known to man,” You smile against his mouth, “As much as he exhausts me sometimes, I’ve missed him.” 

“We talking about Joshua or Tommy?” Joel teases, hands wrapping around you to grip the globes of your ass through your jeans. 

You laugh, feeling light again. This man is the Joel you know, the Joel you love. The man who loves his brother just as much as you do, probably even more, and who takes his duties as Uncle incredibly seriously. You peer over his shoulder, looking at the clock on the wall, there’s enough time for a quickie, is what you think. You start trailing your hand down his chest, resting it on the front of his jeans, palming him through the material. You’re about to start dragging down the zipper when the front door opens. 

“Dad?!” 

Joel pulls back from you like you’re on fire, putting enough distance between you so as to not look suspicious as he calls out to Sarah. 

“In here, kiddo!” 

He gives you a look that tells you he’s sorry, that he wants nothing more than to have that one final moment with you on your own. You shake your head, heat flushing across your face at almost being caught, motioning for him to go to his daughter. Sarah finds the kitchen first, embracing her dad as he kisses the crown of her head. 

“Hello brainbox,” You greet her when Joel lets her go, pulling her into a hug of your own, “You look good!” You say when you finally let her go, keeping her at an arm’s length to really look at her. 

“Thanks,” She smiles, looking around for a second, “Where’s Uncle Tommy?” 

You look at Joel over her head, because right. The story he concocted for her meant that he’s been here all week with Joshua and the two of them are nowhere to be seen, and neither is his truck. 

“Uhhhhh…” You glare at Joel’s response, quickly trying to come up with something in your mind. 

“He’s out grocery shopping,” You say quickly, Joel nodding in acceptance, “Ran out of stuff this morning so he’s taken Joshua into town to stock up.” 

She nods, accepting your answer, moving back to give her dad another hug, “Which room is mine?” She asks, “I’ll go and drop my bag.” 

“First door on the left.” Joel speaks, pointing down the hallway across from the kitchen. 

“Alright, I might get changed too,” Sarah nods her head outside, “It’s a nice day, maybe we can take Joshua swimming?” 

“Of course,” You smile, “Take your time, bug, there’s no rush.” 

Once she’s started off down the hall, you fish your phone from your back pocket, punching in a text to Tommy, as Joel shifts back closer to you, not being able to bear being away from you too long. 

Sarah arrived. Covered for your absence. Message me when you’re on your way from town and I’ll meet you outside. 

You lean up into Joel’s face, letting him kiss you as you put your phone on the side. You push up into his mouth, opening your lips against him to taste his tongue when your phone vibrates on the side. 

Just leaving town now sugar, great timing. See you soon. 

You put a hand on Joel’s chest, leaning up to give him one last peck on the lips, “Tommy’s almost here,” You say against his mouth, okay, now this is the last kiss as you press them back to his, “I’ll wait outside for them.”  He smiles but his eyes are sad. You’ve spent long enough staring into them to know that look. You press one final kiss to his mouth now, “Remember I love you,” You insist, “And I’m gonna make this right.” 

“I believe you,” He relents, squeezing your hand as you move around him to head to the front door, “And I love you too.” 

“Mama!” 

“Oh, my baby boy!” You exclaim, pulling Joshua out of his car seat and into your arms, holding him tight to your chest as his small arms try and wrap around your neck, “I missed you so much baby.” 

As much as this trip had given you the opportunity to be a woman again, not just a mother, the way your son fits into your arms, the way he smells when you take a breath of his hair into your lungs and the way he nuzzles into your face make motherhood all worth it. You have never loved something as much as this boy in your arms. Not your husband, and not his brother, and that’s something you never thought would be true. Something you’d never thought you’d ever understand.

Tommy is rounding the front of the truck, slipping his hand into the back pocket of your jeans as you lean your face up, kissing him, “Missed you too, handsome,” You smile, pulling your attention back to Joshua, giving his cheek a kiss, “Have you and daddy had fun this week?” 

“Yeah!” Joshua exclaims, wriggling about in your arms, he’s almost too big for you to hold like this anymore, “We played lots!” 

“That sounds like fun,” You smile, turning back to Tommy, “We told Sarah you’d gone to town for supplies, so that,” You motion to his and Joshua’s overnight bags, “Will have to stay hidden until we can sneak them in.” 

Joshua wriggles a bit more in your arms, “Uncle Joel!” 

You turn slightly towards the lodge, where Joel is coming down the steps. He reaches out and claps his brother on the back in their usual greeting, before he reaches over and pinches Joshua’s cheek gently between his thumb and pointer finger. 

“Hey bud,” He greets, “You’re getting so big!” 

Joshua unwraps his arms from your neck and reaches out to Joel, flexing his fingers in the way he does when he wants something. Joel laughs, “Let me help your dad get everythin’ outta the car bud,” He smiles, “Then we’ll have a cuddle, okay?” 

You smile at Tommy as Joel rounds to the back of the truck, opening the back door to reach in and grab some of the grocery bags, “Help your brother,” You smile at Tommy, leaning up to kiss his cheek, “I’ll take this little monster inside.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” Tommy speaks, a little two-finger salute added for effect. 

It’s been a wonderful day. The sun has started to dip behind the trees, a cool breeze opening up a little. Sarah and Joel are still playing in the water with Joshua, their laughs mixed with his as they splash each other in the water. You’re sat on a towel by the shore, head leant against Tommy’s damp shoulder, his hand resting on your knee. 

You’ve been in and out of the water all day, floating around with Sarah and Joshua, watching as Sarah plays with him on her own, sitting off to the side as Joel and Tommy sip beers and catch up. You smile the whole day, laugh for most of it too, but there’s always that fear that threatens to spill over when you think about what you have to do.

There are nerves bubbling in your tummy. You have to tell him. You have to speak to him. Looking out at the water, to where Joshua is perched on Joel’s shoulders and Sarah is splashing water at her dad, you know you have to tell him, but you’re still not quite sure how he’s going to react. You’ve run through this conversation so many times in your head over the last twenty-four hours, switching your opening sentence, developing your defence, but none of that comes out now, what comes out surprises even you. 

“I love him.” Easiest to tear the band-aid straight off, you think. 

Tommy barks a laugh next to you which surprises you. You lift your head off his shoulder and look at him, he’s smiling, “I know you do.” 

“But I love you too.” You quickly add. 

“I know that too,” He’s looking back at you now, clearly understanding the confusion on your face, “Why do you think I had no problem lettin’ you come here with him, huh?” He asks, squeezing the hand he’s got resting on your knee, “Or the way I’ve never complained about letting you go with him for his birthday?” 

“Are you not mad?” You ask, biting at your bottom lip. 

“No sugar, I’m not mad,” He leans down, kissing your cheek, “I love that man more than you will ever understand, he’s always had my back, always bailed me outta the shitty situations I’ve got myself into, never once thought about himself since that little girl was born,” He nods his head towards Sarah, “You make each other so happy, I ain’t ever seen Joel so happy since he started helpin’ us out, and I want nothing more than to keep makin’ him happy.” 

“I don’t want to leave you,” You insist, your own hand resting on his thigh. 

“I know you don’t, I don’t want you to leave either,” You can feel your eyes start to well with tears, “I’ve been sharin’ you for years baby, and I ain’t gonna stop because you two have finally admitted you love each other.” 

“Finally?” You ask, using your free hand to wipe at your eyes, “What do you mean?” 

“Baby, I’ve been watchin’ you fuck him for months, I know I’m slow sometimes, but I’d have to be fuckin’ blind not to see what you mean to each other.” 

You maneuver yourself so you’re practically sat in his lap, arms wrapped around his neck as you cry into his shoulder a little. You wonder in this moment what it was that you did to deserve him, to deserve them both. Two men who love you unconditionally, who just want you to be the happiest you can be, and two brothers who just want to see the other happy too. 

You pull back, clutching Tommy’s face in your hands, “So you don’t mind if I want to see him more often?” You ask timidly.

“Not at all, sugar,” He leans forward, kissing your lips, "That man has never once thought about himself, put himself first, not since Sarah came along, and it's about time he did something for himself, we've just gotta help him right?" He asks, to which you nod in response, “We’re lucky men to have you.” 

“And I’m a lucky girl to have you both.” 

Things had seemed so normal over dinner. Tommy had grilled an insane amount of meat that’d you’d all devoured. You’d drank beers together, Joshua had sat on Joel’s lap for most of the night, favouring his uncle over anyone else. It felt like it always did when you were all together as a family, Sarah feeding small bits of food to Joshua, Tommy’s hand on your knee under the table as you all talk about different things – how Sarah is getting on at college, how this time next year Joshua will have started school. You know they’re different now though, although Joel doesn’t. You wonder if he’d seen you speaking with Tommy earlier, if he did then he must know that things are okay, right? That there wasn’t an argument so it must be okay. You want to tell him, want to take his face in your hands and kiss him at the table so he knows everything is okay. 

You’re propped up against the pillows of your bed now – those so familiar to you now after this week. Reading the book you’d been trying so hard to focus on this whole week and still finding you can’t quite concentrate on it. Tommy had put Joshua to bed a few hours ago, Sarah had gone to bed at the same time as you, leaving the brothers on their own to clean up and catch up. You wonder now what they might be talking about. 

It's not long before you find out exactly what they’ve been talking about. There’s a soft knock at the door before it opens, revealing Tommy, who steps into the dimly lit room, closely followed by Joel, who closes the door behind him gently. 

“Hello.” You greet, looking up from your book. 

“Joel’s been tellin’ me what a good girl you’ve been for him all week,” Tommy speaks, “He’s given you a glowing report, sugar.” 

Oh. So that’s what they’ve been talking about. You wonder if Tommy told him? Wonder whether he’s given his brother the permission he needed to have you like he wants. You close your book and set it on the nightstand, turning back to them. 

“We’ve been trying really hard baby,” You speak, voice sweet, “Haven’t we Joel?” You look into that familiar face, “I’ve been so full all week trying real hard for this baby.” 

Tommy walks slowly to your side of the bed, gripping your chin to tilt your face up to look at him whilst Joel watches on. 

“You gonna show me what you’ve been gettin’ up to?” He asks softly, “Gonna let me fuck you?” 

Tommy pulls back the duvet, letting his fingers gently trace down between the valley of your breasts, covered by your nightdress. He trails further down to the hem, letting his hand sneak under the material. You spread your legs for him slightly, keeping your eyes on his as his fingers slip between your folds finding you already wet for them both. 

“Looks like the answer is yes,” He chuckles, dipping down to kiss you as he drags his slick fingers up to your clit to circle gently, “How about you give Joel your pretty mouth, baby?” He asks, “I’ve missed this pussy, I gotta be inside you.” 

He takes his hand away from you, letting you shift so you’re on your hands and knees, nightdress pushed up to the small of your back, so you’re spread and on display for Tommy. You reach out a hand and motion with a finger for Joel to come to you, which he does, hands already moving to unzip his jeans. Joel lets them pool on the floor before he gets onto the bed in front of you, fist around the base of his already hard cock, guiding it to your mouth at the exact same time as Tommy nudges himself inside you, sliding in slowly until you’re full of him, Joel doing the exact same to your mouth, letting his cock slip across the length of your tongue until he hits the back of your throat. 

He feels absolutely delicious inside of you, like he always has done for all these years, angling just perfectly inside you to brush against that spot that's been so stimulated this past week. Your moans are muffled, vibrating around Joel's cock as you take him down into your throat, saliva pooling around the edges of your mouth. 

This, you think, is what you were made for. To have two men, two of the most beautiful men in the world, taking their pleasure from you, but giving you twice that in return. 

Joel's hand grips your chin as he starts shallow thrusts into your mouth, you look up at him, your own eyes rimmed with tears, his blown out and dark from lust as he fucks your mouth, groaning in pleasure when you do. 

"You're a lucky girl, ain't ya sugar?" Tommy husks from behind you, his skin slapping against yours, "Two men here to adore ya," He leans over and kisses at the skin covering your spine, "Always were meant to be the centre of attention."

Joel lets his cock slip from your mouth, looking down at you with one eyebrow cock, his hand around your jaw to get you to look at him, “He’s right, ain’t he, pretty girl?” He asks, running a thumb over you spit soaked bottom lip, “Love bein’ the centre of attention, don’t ya?” You nod, totally overwhelmed by the feeling of Tommy’s pace behind you, but Joel taps your cheek, “Words, pretty girl,” He chastises, “Use your big girl words.”

Tommy’s hands grip your hips, pulling you back onto him as he thrusts into you, making you cry out, “Yes!” You gasp, realising you have to try and keep quiet, Sarah’s only just down the hall. 

“Yes what?” 

“I love it,” You whimper, looking up at him, “Love being the centre of attention.” 

“Course ya do,” Tommy quips from behind you, “We love you bein’ the centre of attention too.” 

Joel uses his fist to guide his cock back into the warmth of your mouth, resuming his short thrusts into your mouth as Tommy pounds into you from behind. The sounds in the room are obscene – there’s the sound of Tommy’s skin hitting your own, the sound of you almost gagging on Joel’s cock, and the mixture of grunts and groans that are pulled from their mouths as they use your body to make themselves feel good. You almost wish you could see yourself right now, speared at both ends of your body by these two men. 

Joel trails his fingers as far down your arm as he can, and you think he’s asking for you to put your hand on his balls as you take him in your mouth, so you do, but he’s swatting it away, gripping your wrist as you look up at him again, tears falling down your face. 

“Put it on your pussy,” He instructs, “Make yourself come for us.” 

You snake your hand down, fingers circling your clit, slick as always. You start working in fast movements just as you feel Tommy’s thumb start to tease the tight ring of muscle of your ass. You whimper again around Joel’s cock as his hands gather your hair, using it to drag your mouth up and down him.

“You want it, sugar?” Tommy asks, pulling his thumb away before you hear him spit, the warmth spreading down your ass as his thumb works the wet into your skin there. 

Joel, once again, pulls his cock from the wet heat of your mouth, motioning for you to talk, “Go on, pretty girl,” He coaxes, “Tell him you want it, we know you love it.” 

“Please,” You breathe out a beg, pushing back lightly into his finger, “Please, Tommy.” 

“Always sound so fucking pretty when you beg for it baby,” He chuckles behind you, “I’ll give it to ya, don’t worry.” 

When his thumb pushes inside of you, as the same time as Joel feeds you his cock once more, it’s almost immediate, the way your orgasm slams into you. Stuffed full in every possible way, as Tommy’s thumb presses gently into your ass, as Joel’s cock hits the back of your throat over and over again and the way Tommy is pounding into that delicious spot inside you as always. The knot of pleasure snaps, Joel’s cock muffling your cries as your pussy clenches around Tommy, walls fluttering as you work your clit through the aftershocks, body convulsing almost violently. 

“God damn it sugar,” Tommy groans behind you, “Gonna – fuck – m’gonna come baby, where?” 

“Inside,” You moan, pulling off Joel’s cock, “Please, inside me baby.” 

He gives you exactly what you want just seconds later, stilling behind you, with his cock buried as deep as he’ll go. He lets out that sound that you love, a high-pitched whine that’s similar to some of the sounds he and his brother draw from you as you feel him fill you up. He’s not giving you much time to recover, groaning lightly as he pulls out, stopping briefly to watch as his cum drips from your spent pussy. 

You roll onto your back, fingers drifting down and inside of you, slowly pumping in and out as Joel comes into view. He stands at the side of your bed, pulls at your legs so the backs of your thighs are pressed against his chest, ankles by his face. He pulls your hand away from your pussy, pushing your fingers into your mouth as you clean Tommy’s cum off them. 

“Go on brother,” Tommy encourages, settling himself on the bed behind you, “You’ve still got a job to do.” 

“Ain’t no way she’s not full of my baby,” Joel growls as he sinks his cock into your pussy, your slick and the cum his brother’s just filled you with making it so easy for him to slide in all the way, “Is there, pretty girl?” 

His hands are splayed over your stomach now as he pounds his cock into you, the squelch of your pussy filling the room, “Filled me up so good, Joel,” You moan, hands palming at your tits as your head turns to look at Tommy, “Been full of him all week baby.” You say in his direction. 

The attention you’ve been giving Joel with your mouth means he’s already on the edge, “Sucked me so good, pretty girl,” He mumbles, “Gonna come for you.” 

You’re gripping the backs of his thighs, pulling him closer to you as he ruts himself as hard and fast into you as he can manage, “Please Joel,” You sob, feeling the head of his cock bruising at your cervix, “Give it to me, please.” 

“Quit your crying,” He spits, “You know I’m gonna give it to you.” 

And like clockwork he does. He groans out, low and loud as always, as you feel the hot spurts of his cum filling you up, mixing with what Tommy gave you just minutes ago. He slips out of you, watching as his cum mixed with his brother’s drips from your used cunt. He runs his fingers down the folds of your pussy, scooping up what’s left you, pushing it back in, because he’s got to be sure, got to be sure that he’s given you every drop of himself. 

You expect the aftermath to be a little strange as you pull the hem of your nightdress back down. Tommy’s already half asleep on the bed, clothes haphazardly thrown back on as he shuffles himself under the sheets. You follow suit, watching as Joel puts him underwear back on. 

Tommy has already wrapped an arm around your waist, dragging you to his body, light breath fanning against the skin of your neck. You’re watching Joel as he straightens up. 

“Hey,” You speak softly, grabbing his attention, you reach out a hand which he takes, “Stay.” You say simply, tapping the empty side of the bed, the side of the bed that had been his all week. 

He smiles, squeezing your hand, and you think he might refuse, opting to take the final bedroom, but he doesn’t. He climbs onto the bed, far enough away that your bodies don’t touch, respecting the claim Tommy has staked by holding your body close to his, but keeps his hand in yours, as physical reminder that he’s here and he’s not going anywhere. He leans forward, soft kiss pressed to your lips, before his other hand pushes your hair back from your face. 

“Sleep, pretty girl,” He insists softly, “Tomorrow is a new day.” 

And sleep you do – one Miller brother strong against your back, arm draped over your waist, other Miller brother led facing you, chocolate brown eyes watching you as you drift off to sleep, your hand clutched in his to anchor you to him just as much as you’re anchored to his brother. As your eyes close and you drift off, you realise you’re exactly where you want to be, held by both the men you love, and that’s absolutely enough for you right now. 

[pastel-greene]

The Daughter | king!sukuna x curse user!reader

Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 - Need | Chapter 6

Summary: The mother of curses happens upon a blind child and decides to impart a portion of her power to them as an experiment of sorts. The power morphs the child in their image until they are part curse and part human. So what happens when they get employed by the King of Curses? Will humanity bloom as newfound emotions flow between the two? Or will they usher in an era of never ending terror?

Notes: not all of this will be canon, it will be loosely based off of the jjk universe :) taglist is open, comment your request on any chapter to be tagged in future ones

Genre: female reader, fluff, angst, ‘loads’ of smut, violence, sukuna true form but like not with the weird face lmao just double set of eyes and arms, dark reader

Warnings: profanity, explicit smut (two dick sukuna, sadistic sex, biting, oral m & f receiving, pet names, more to be added), violence, depictions of gore, dark minds cause yk, mentions of rape, toxic relationships, chaotic neutral reader, trauma, possessiveness from reader and sukuna, torture, vampire themes (reader’s blood is infused with the Mother of curses so if a curse user is to drink it it basically gives them a temporary stat boost bc what can i say vampire sukuna seems hot), cannibalism (no I don’t support it but it is true to his character), and more to be added as story progresses

Word count: 6.7k

This work contains mature content, so absolutely no minors I will block you if I find out :)

It had been a few weeks since you and Sukuna had talked. You had continued attending various meetings and hearings alongside him to snoop in people’s minds. Word had already spread of your presence. A woman with a shirt adorned with gold buttons sat beside the king and gave him notes. Notes that led to death. When people came in with their heads down, you could feel their gaze linger when they realized you were there. The way they grew tenser, their thoughts becoming a dark jumble. It was fun really, the amount of fear you and Sukuna put into people when together.

When it came to you two, he kept to his word of taking things slow. He often showed up at your door to take you to his chambers to share dinner. You hadn’t had sex but you had been teasing each other. Your ass “accidentally” grinding into him at night or you “not noticing” your boob had slipped out of your nightgown during the night. Him whispering your name into your ear in the morning, voice gruff, and arms wrapped around you. Or the way his tongue danced along your neck before he would bite you, one hand pulling in your hair, two on your hips, and the other resting beside your breast. His scent would completely encapsulate you, his touch would make your body forget how to breathe. You both pushed but neither had broken. It almost felt like a competition now, a stupid one that you weren’t sure was possible to actually win. That’s why you were sitting in a meeting with the King, thighs clenched together and thoughts a mess. Messy thoughts telling you to use cursed energy to tease him, touch along his body. Caress all the places you couldn’t. If Uruame wasn’t there you really might’ve. Instead, you sat frustrated and waited for the meeting to end.

When everyone was finally dismissed from the room, you let out a groan. Sukuna turned his head to look at you, his smile growing evermore. “You may look up now, since you’ve been such a good girl for me”, he said. Gods you hated it when he first called you that, made you feel like an animal. Now that asshole had made you subconsciously like it. You looked up at him, eyes carved by features of anger, but irises soaking with whispers of lust. You wanted to tell him to break, to touch you, but if you did then you would be the one to break. So instead you moved yourself into his lap, legs straddling him, breasts pressed against his chest, arms around his neck, and head resting above his heart. You thought about when he fucked you like this, his extra mouth moving between your clit and nipples as his cocks hammered in and out of you.

“Who gave you permission to crawl on your King like this?” His voice was teasing, he knew how much you wanted him right then. He wanted it too. He had already been caught on multiple occasions with his pants forming a tent. Just yesterday he was in a hearing without you and ended up growing hard during it. The peasant talked about how he was starving and blah blah blah. All he could think about was being inside you again, hearing you call out for him as he fucked you until he was satisfied. He thought this little game you two were playing was stupid, but he also refused to lose. He wouldn’t let you know he wanted you as much as he did. His hands let themselves free to explore your body, purposely getting close but not on the spots you wanted him. He chuckled as your body responded to his touch, arching into it in a plea for more. A chuckle that made you immediately get out of his lap.

“Asshole”, you said while straightening your clothes out.

“Asshole? And here I was calling you a good girl and letting you sit in my lap. If you want me to touch you further, all you have to do is ask. I won’t even make you beg.” He remained seated on his place on the floor but pulled you closer as he spoke. His face was just a few inches from your ever-clenching cunt. As you looked down at him you thought back to when you told him you wanted to ride his face and drown him in your cum. His face would look so shiny and pretty. You ran your fingers through his hair, his eyes rolling closed as you massaged his scalp, before leaning down next to his ear.

“That’s where we differ then, Sukuna, I will make you beg to touch me. To stick your fingers inside me, to let your tongue taste the effect you have on me, to put your cocks back in their warm cozy homes, to feel them suck you in and drench you in my cum.” You punctuated your last whispered sentence by biting his ear. A small puncture wound opened up and blood began rushing to escape. You pulled away as the first drop beaded and prepared to descend. You gathered it on your index finger before sliding it into your mouth. Blood trailed on your bottom lip as it slid in and your cheeks hollowed as you pulled it back out. A loud pop resonating in the air. You pulled your bottom lip into your mouth and let your eyes roll back as you sucked the remaining blood away. A small moan reverberated through your chest, muted by your closed lips, but loud enough to be effective. The very obvious bulge in his pants twitched from the show you were putting on. His hands gripped tighter on your body, his eyes dark and drooping with need. You pulled from his grip and told him good luck with the rest of his schedule. He watched as you walked out the door, wanting to rebuttal or tease you back, but his voice was overshadowed by the war raging between his ego and hormones.

You walked along the palace halls feeling a little better. You were still extremely horny, but you felt a bit better after making sure he was equally miserable. You could already see the sun setting through the windows, the back-to-back meetings you sat through these days had messed with your sense of time. You stretched your arms over your head and attempted to yawn away your body's growing ache. The cushion you sat on in your meetings was an absolute poor excuse for a seat. You wondered how Sukuna sat on his for hours day after day without any signs of pain. Maybe he had a better one, you’d have to check next time. If it was, you would have to steal his until he got you a new one. You turned the hall to your room and were greeted by fewer servants than usual. Two of your male servants were missing from the ensemble and the remaining women looked down in fear.

“Where are Itto and Hiro”, you asked as you stopped in front of them.

Their figures all seemed to stutter at the question, bodies tense and breathes withheld. “T-they have been moved to different jobs ma’am”, Aoi said.

You blinked a few times at Aoi in disbelief. If you had to guess, Sukuna was killing of any possible threats to his courting you. Which part of you found hot, but the other part was pissed that you just lost two perfectly good servants for nothing. You gave a stiff nod to the remaining servants and entered your room. Orange light whispered across your floor as a notice of the sun lowering in the sky. You pulled out a bottle of sake Sukuna had gifted you and poured yourself a drink. Being with Sukuna was fun and of course came with endless perks, but also felt a little suffocating. With him killing your servants, you began to wonder if you were going to be segregated from men altogether. He had promised to try not to be possessive, but here he was doing the exact opposite. You sighed before taking your glass to a seating area in front of one of your windows. You looked out across the palace, the intricate architecture, neatly kept foliage, hurried servants, and river that outlined one side. It was grand. Most people would kill to be where you were, to have the King “properly” courting you. The way he had started to dote on you by giving you his time. The way he actually listened to you and was actively trying to respect your boundaries. The big scary monster he was known to be taking off a mask that not even he knew he wore when he was around you. However, most people that challenged him were slaughtered on the spot, never giving him the chance to truly learn how to interact with another.

There was a lot in common between you two, but he was definitely more bloodthirsty. Not that you had never killed over an insignificant reason, but you did it a lot less than him. You wondered if you would grow to be more cruel as you aged. From what you had heard, Sukuna was at least over 100, which would make him roughly 3 times your age. In the 27 years you had been on earth, you had been through a lot and there were definitely times you thought about annihilating every being that infected the surface. When you met Ieiri, that was exactly your plan actually, but she changed it. She made you realize there are some people that actually deserved to live. Then you meant Kento and it solidified your thinking. They became two unexpected lessons given to you. You would never hurt them, in fact, you would show the depths of hell to anyone who dared lay a finger on them. Like the guy who tried to force himself on Ieiri or the drunk patron who attempted to break a bottle over Kento’s head. Two lowly parasites that believed they had a right to harm those under your protection. Two vile infections that still lay in your realm being tortured and healed without stopping.

You took a drink as you thought of Sukuna’s threat to them. The night of the incident, you had sent a very eager Miro to inform Ieiri to keep her guard up and not to slack on training her energy with Kento. You had also sent various curses to help protect and prepare them for an event that might never come to pass. But should it, you would be ready. You ran your fingers across the smooth clay container. Anxiety and anger swirl inside like the liquid in your glass. You closed your eyes and took a few deep breaths. Sukuna would probably come for dinner and there was no use getting into a fight over an issue that had already been as resolved as it would get. It would only make things tense between you two again and there was obviously no benefit to that. You opened your eyes and leaned back into your chair, the plushness of the cushions enveloping your body in the warmth of comfort. You rested your drink in your lap as your lids fell with the sun. You knew you should stave off the urge to curl up and instead get ready to meet with Sukuna, but something about falling asleep when you weren’t supposed to made it all the more inviting.

Your eyes open but are greeted with the abyss. You go to touch them but a loud rattle of a chain echoes throughout the space. The smell of musty pine overwhelms your senses and panic sets in as you realize where you are. Underneath you sprawls a plush bed covered in various body fluids. You have no idea how long he has kept you in his private room this time. How long doesn’t matter here. Nothing matters here. Even if you died it wouldn’t matter. No one would ever know, ever cry. Just another human discarded by their fellow people. You hear footsteps awakening creaks in the stairs— his footsteps. “Oh Angel” “My Little Dove” he calls out. Pet names given for your appearance. An appearance you’ve never even seen. Apparently, one that screams pure, one that makes others want to defile you. The handle jiggles on the door and you feel the air change as it opens. You want to start crying and were internally screaming and wishing you could run. But if you cried or screamed it would simply enhance his pleasure. He liked the sounds you made for him. If you got out and ran it would be pointless. You had no idea where you were, nor could you see, and you had nowhere to go anyway. He would just find you and laugh as he punished you. Mock as you reached out blindly to try and shield yourself from his attack. You could feel the dip in the bed as he got on and began his nightly onslaught. You drifted off into your mind, disassociating from your physical being. You walked into the darkness within yourself, but this time you saw light far away. Your eyes widened and your pace quickened as you charted towards it. As you grew closer you saw colors, colors outlining shapes you didn’t recognize. Each with different layers. It was beautiful. But in the middle stood a girl. Her hair was dark and crawling in the air. Her eyes were a deep black that mimicked endless voids. Her jaw drooped to the point it pulled her cheeks taut. Her head tilted toward the side as she noticed you. She beckoned you closer, not with any motion, but with a feeling deep inside you. You slowly approached her and she gestured towards the lights around you. You looked around at it all and realized these shapes were people. You began to feel the colors, the feelings embedded in them. For the first time, you felt like you could actually see. You looked back towards the girl and noticed she was already staring at you. Her mouth didn’t move but you heard, “Let me in”, from a raspy voice of a woman who seemed much older than the one before you. Apprehension crossed your thoughts, but what was the point of being scared? What was the point in fearing the unknown when the known wasn’t worth being in? So you said yes. The world around you started spinning, your hair whipping in your face as hers erratically lashed the air. Her face glitched between a hanging mouth and a smile dripping with black goo. Fear crept in you before you were pulled back to reality. Before you, the man assaulting you was in view. You could see the outline of his form and the emotions that made up his psyche. You could see his hands reach out to touch you. You were no longer in the dark, but seeing didn’t resolve the fear and pain you felt currently.

Sukuna walked up to your door, eyes dismissing the servants, as he reached out his hand and knocked against the wood. He listened closely but there was no answer. He shifted on his feet, eyebrows knitting his features into a confused look that was losing patience. He knocked again and called out your name, but again there was no answer. A frustrated breath slipped through his lips as he decided to just open the door. He called out for you again as he entered the room, but quickly silenced himself as he spotted you curled up by the window. You sat in your chair, legs outstretched, hands meeting in your lap to hold a glass, hair falling in erratic waves left from being up the whole day. Your lips lay slightly parted as calm breaths filtered in and out. All of Sukuna’s previous frustrations melted away as he watched you. This was the most vulnerable he had ever seen you, and he was shocked that he didn’t see it as an opportunity to attack you. Instead, he found himself wanting to be at your side and guarding you so that you could sleep in peace. He slowly approached you and knelt down. He could see the slight wear under your eyes that had appeared after your coming here. He wondered how tired you felt and how differently you lived prior to the palace. He knew bits and pieces from when he had Uruame stalk you, but not enough. He wanted to see what happened throughout your day when you were fully unrestricted. What made you laugh, what made you cry? What trouble did you get into and what were the kind of people that you spared? He knew you could be just as evil as him, but he also knew you could be more benevolent than he saw the need to be. A few days ago he watched from afar as you healed a cat and then proceeded to bring it food and water the following days. But he also watched a servant’s legs snap the wrong way when they tried to run the cat off. Such an unpredictable anomaly that had walked into his palace and turned everything upside down for him. He reached to move a stray group of hair out of your face but was abruptly stopped by your hand. It pulled his wrist while your other reached up for his throat, holding him close with a death grip. He looked into your eyes and noticed they were vacant of the color he was used to, instead they were blacked out completely. Just like when you threatened to kill him.

“Hey, it’s me, it’s me. I’m not going to hurt you”, he said as he looked into the voids. Your grip loosened as you blinked. The black receded until all that was left were the same tired eyes he was used to seeing, slowly lighting up in realization.

“Oh shit sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to”, you scrambled to say as you let him go. You had never done well when people unexpectedly touched you while you slept. Especially when you were having flashbacks.

Sukuna watched you as you let him go and your face flushed with embarrassment. You weren’t usually a jumpy person or one to easily spook, but there seemed to be an exception when you were sleeping. He didn’t know much about your past, not even Uruame could find anything out, but you had mentioned being owned previously. Not that he knew how anyone could overpower you, but there were few stories where people enjoyed being owned. He was sure it tied into that somehow, but he wouldn't press the matter.

“No, it's my bad. You know what they say about poking a sleeping bear”, he said with a smile as he rubbed his wrist. Had he been a human or even a lower-grade sorcerer, he was sure it would be cracked if not fully broken from the force you applied.

You smiled back at his joke before your eyes widened in surprise. You felt wet fabric cling to your leg and realized you must have spilled your drink in all the commotion. “Awh, dammnit”, you said as you got up and observed the wet spot going from your upper to mid-thigh and a little on the floor.

Sukuna also noticed the mess and got up with you. “Here I’ll clean it since I’m the one who scared you”, he said as he went to grab a towel.

“No, it’s okay. It’s my fault for freaking out anyway”, you said as you followed him to get a towel. You tried to reach to grab it before him but he instead grabbed your hand and used another to grab the towel.

“Let me do it”, he said as he looked down at you. You wanted to rebuttal but nodded instead. There was a certain softness in his eyes almost akin to pity. You didn’t exactly appreciate pity nor did you understand why his eyes were so full of it so you just looked down. He led you over to the bed and put one towel beneath you before leaving your side to clean the spot on the floor. You watched as he knelt down and sopped up the little bit of liquid. It felt weird seeing him clean. The fearsome King knelt down on the ground cleaning up a mess you made. Once he got it, he walked back over to you and felt the wet spot on your pants.

“You probably want to take these off. They’re too wet for the towel to dry”, he said while his hands moved to the small tie on the side of your pants. He pulled the string and started pulling them off your hips, telling you to lift up to let them pass under you. You did as he said and were left with your bodice and underwear. He sat between your legs and wiped the towel across your skin. His hand grabs your leg and moves it up to get your upper thigh. You could feel your clit start throbbing as he neared it. You looked down at him, the care he applied when cleaning you. The way his eyes gave off no motive other than rectifying his mess. You reached down and cupped his face, gently nudging it up to look at you as your hand moved under his jaw. You garnered the attention of all four of his eyes as your thumb caressed his face.

“What is it”, he asked as he looked up at you. He had never seen you look at him the way you were. Lust swirling in your eyes but an unfamiliar emotion dancing with it. It was akin to need but not in the same carnal league as the lust. It was deeper, he could feel it radiating from you. Like it was welcoming him in.

“It is still sticky. I think it needs to be cleaned up differently,” you said as your thumb slid across his cheek to his lips. You wanted him, but you needed him to take it at your pace this time. You wanted to stay in control in order to fight the feeling your nightmare left behind to eat away at you.

His eyebrow quirked up as he caught your meaning. He tossed the towel to the side before rubbing his thumb along your thigh. “I think you’re right, it is still pretty sticky here darling”, he said while grabbing your hand and kissing it before leaning down to your thigh. He had never felt the need to care for someone, to show them love, but right now that feeling swelled in him until he couldn’t help but let it flow out. He didn’t know if it was because he was feeling your feelings or if it simply stemmed from him, and he didn’t really care. He looked up at you before licking a long stripe up your thigh. The face you made for him and the way your breath hitched had him wanting to stop time. To stay in the moment that you looked at him as if he was the only one in the world, the only man for you. He wanted everyone to know that these moments with you belonged to him, that you belonged to him. He didn’t care if some people saw it as a weakness. Anyone that dared state is as one would be thoroughly re-educated by you and him together.

You looked down and watched as he lapped at your skin. Your skin sank into his mouth as he sucked on certain spots, dark little marks blooming in his wake. You couldn’t help a moan that fell out when he bit one spot, his tongue quickly cleaning up the blood that greeted him. “You seem to be making more messes rather than cleaning”, you said as your fingers threaded themselves through his hair, pulling it tightly earning a low groan from him.

His lids lowered as his gaze kept yours. “My deepest apologies. I suppose I will have to take more time focusing on every inch of your skin. Assuring there is absolutely no mess left behind”, he said in between strokes of his tongue. The mouth on his hand joined to suck the sensitive skin right before where your thighs met your pelvis. His thumb and forefinger held the seam where they did.

“Naughty King. You’re making an even bigger mess with what you’re doing”, you said as you scratched his scalp tenderly.

“Hmm is that so? Where is said mess baby girl? I’ll make sure to clean it too”, he said as he kissed over the bruised areas and massaged his thumb right beside your pubic bone.

“You seem to have gotten my underwear wet, Kuna. Too wet to be dried. I think they need to come off and the area beneath needs to be cleaned.”

He looked up at you and smirked. “Is this your way of admitting defeat by asking me to touch you?”

You raised your eyebrows in faux shock and exclaimed, “Oh no, of course not. This is simply you sticking to your word and cleaning up the messes you’ve made. Are you saying you’re the kinda King that goes back on his word?”

“Ohoho careful there brat”, he said as he ripped your underwear off. He pulled you close and sank his lips down to around your clit. He sucked in sharply without warning as his tongue started swirling rapidly. You instinctively wrapped your legs around him and arched your back to increase the suction being applied. “You should know better than to question me as a King. I think I am being more than generous right now, no?”

“I think you’re focusing on one spot for too long. Such lack of diligence when it comes to cleanliness”, you retorted while pulling his mouth off of you. “Put your tongue out flat.”

His tongue darted out to gather the mess you had left on his lips, “Such a bossy little brat tonight”. He laid out his tongue as you instructed before surprising you by stealing a lick across your spread labia. The sensation only lasted a minute before you were using his shoulders to lift yourself with your legs, one hand balancing you on the bed and the other in his hair as you pushed your cunt against his tongue. You let out a slow moan as you started by slowly sliding yourself up and down across his tongue. He groaned as he watched you use his to pleasure yourself, something the King wasn’t used to happening. But the way you sucked on your bottom lip as your hooded eyes watched where you two connected had him more than happy to be used by you. He watched the way your stomach muscles flexed as you moved on him, felt how you twitched against his tongue and smelled the arousal that began to pool on his chin. You were so breathtaking like this. He felt the emotions you had wrapped him in begin to change as the uneasiness you originally felt faded away. Sukuna had given you control of the situation and didn’t fight you on it. He didn’t make you cower before him or wantonly obey him. He wasn’t perfect, but fuck it was so attractive that you could see him trying to change for you. The emotionless monster showing you sides that didn’t exist before you came into his life.

Your grip tightened on his hair as your pace started to quicken. The sensation of his soft yet textured tongue constantly touching every part of your folds and rubbing your clit bare and through the hood was driving you insane. Your vision felt like it was spinning, you were starting to have a hard time focusing as the tension inside your abdomen grew. You were close and you both knew it. When your thighs started to shake and your rhythm started to falter, Sukuna’s hands found their way to your thighs and waist as he helped stabilize and guide you through your orgasm. Small cries left your lips as the pleasure took you over, Sukuna’s tongue working to milk every last drop of his orgasm. When your vision returned to normal Sukuna was still lapping up your cum. Tongue dipping into you to pull it all out and venturing to your other hole on occasion. You tried to pull away as overstimulation seeped into your muscles, but he kept you in place. “Hold still baby, I need to show you how serious I am about keeping my word”, he said in between licks.

You whined a little in protest but he just smirked at you. His fingers rubbed where they held you in an offering of comfort as he continued to absolutely devour you. He alternated between greeting every crevice of your labia and clit with his tongue, to swirling his tongue around your ass and pointing his tongue inside. The sounds in your ears started to blend into a high-pitched ringing tone as your cheeks grew red with warmth. Your legs were visibly shaking on his shoulders and your hips bucked without order from your mind. Your orgasm began to creep up on you again, but you halted it by pulling Sukuna onto the bed and flipping him under you. His features contorted in confusion as he looked up at you, face glistening as your juices dripped down his chin.

“Fuck, Kitten. I thought I was the one cleaning you. Why did you make me switch? Don’t tell me you grew too hungry for the taste of my cocks that you couldn’t wait”, he said as he looked down at you. He had propped himself up on his elbows and stuffed your pillows behind your back so he could watch you. His hair stuck up all kinds of ways from where you played with it, his lids were heavy with lust, and his ever-darkening eyes peered through them to watch you.

“I just thought it was unfair to make you do all the work. You are my King, after all, it is only fitting I assist you however I can. And your poor pants looked like they were about to tear from all the strain”, you said as you rubbed him through the fabric. You could hear his breathing pattern become interrupted as your fingers traced the shapes. Your nail lightly raked over the bottom one, following the engorged muscle that protruded from the bottom side. A growl reverberated throughout his chest, followed by slightly profane praises for your work. You looked up at him as you slid your body along his crotch until your mouth found the string holding his pants up. You reached your tongue out for it, the tips grazing the lower part of his abs making them suck in. You felt him twitch against your chest as you gripped the hindrance with your teeth and pulled it undone. He watched in lust-clouded awe as you began you pull his pants back. Your mouth kissing, sucking, and licking at the newly found skin. Once you pulled back to the point his cocks were almost revealed you told him to lift his hips so you could get the rest of the way down. “Oh? I thought you said you were going to assist your King yet here you are barking orders to me”, he said while smirking.

You raised your eyebrows and tongued the inside of your cheek before letting out a small chuckle and ripping his pants off. His lips almost managed to form words, but yours found your way to his cocks before they could come to fruition. Tatters of his pants flew across the room as you laid yourself between his legs and started licking his bottom cock. Your tongue traced the outline of it over and over while your lips sucked on the tip. Heavy sighs and low groans reverberated through him as you continued your work. You turned your head and pulled in the underside of his cock and started moving your head up and down. Spit fell from the corners of your mouth as you looked up at him. (E/C) irises swirling with lust and untold plans as your lips peeked from both sides of his cock. After a few pumps like this, you pushed your mouth down onto his tip and filled your throat up. His cock completely cut off your air supply as you sank down deeper onto him. You used your hand to stroke the parts of the base you couldn’t fit and watched as he started to play with his other cock. He pushed it down slightly so that your face ran along it as you pleasured the other. You pulled away from him and used your energy to pull his hands above his head and pin them there.

You moved yourself up to eye level with him, cocks brushing against your dripping entrance and boobs draping against his chest. You licked along his jaw and neck, cleaning yourself off of him before moving back over his face. You playfully kitten-licked his lips before saying, “Keep your hands here or I stop what I am doing, okay?”

His head pushed up as he quickly took your bottom lip between his teeth, biting and pulling it back before releasing it to pop back to its original position. “Such a brave brat ordering me around like this. Does fear never visit you”, he asked while meeting your gaze. His eyes feral from the predicament of being tied to your bed while you so eagerly pleased him.

You dipped your head to his ear, kissing where it met his neck before pressing your lips to his earlobe. “Fear knows better than to show its face to a predator, don’t you know we feed off of that”, you asked before slowly pushing your body back down to where it was. A hearty laugh rocked his chest at your question. The fire in his eyes seemed to be stoked by what you said, their colors seemed to burn with fervor as they closely watched all of your movements. You lowered yourself back to your original position between his legs. Your hand slid his lower cock between the valley of your breasts as you began sucking on the top one. Hand pumping him up and down once it was covered in enough spit to allow your hand to freely roam.

His toned abs flexed when his tip fell victim to the suction in your mouth and he sucked the remainder of your cum off his lips as he watched his other cock fall between your tits. It slid so nicely, the spit it was once coated in now creating a shiny layer on your breasts. He watched as they jiggled as they crashed against his pelvis with each bob of your head and felt the way the friction made you moan against his cocks. The feeling of it shooting from your throat down the one inside your mouth, and the feeling of the vibrations coming from your chest spreading to the other one had him pushing his hips further into you. He watched as tears swelled in the corners of your eyes as you gagged around him, fresh spit slipping past your lips and pooling at the base of his cock. He waited for the repercussions of his actions but was never meant with any, so he continued pistoning his hips into your throat. Sounds of skin slapping skin and choked gags filled the room as he fucked your throat and tits. It was so fucking erotic. Never had he had someone take him like you did, never had he allowed someone to take control like he did with you. And fuck he was starting to think about how much he was missing it. This was almost as sexy as when you ate his finger. He thought back to that day, the way you both were covered in blood, the violence you endured from each other in search of your own releases. Those thoughts mixed with the present situation had his cock twitching in a pretense of his release.

You watched through blurry eyes as his features started to pull together, his eyes narrowed, his lips parted, his body restless. You opened your mouth fully to allow him full access to your throat as he chased his orgasm. As his rhythm began to falter, you picked it up and guided him into nirvana. He groaned your name as he buried himself fully in your throat and started cumming. It poured down your throat as the other one shot it all across your face and chest. You kept swallowing as it kept flowing into you, it started to feel like it would never end. After the last rope shot down your mouth you pulled off of his cock. You looked like a filthy whore as you stared at him through lashes covered in cum. Milky white stains covered your face, ropes slid off of your face to your already cum covered chest, some falling right back onto his cock. He watched as your fingers began to scrape it into your mouth, your peeking out to lick it off of your fingers. You dropped your mouth to let him see how it gathered on your tongue before swallowing it and coming back out clean.

“Fuck, why do you have to be so sexy baby”, he asked as he sat up, your magic dissipating from around his wrists allowing him to touch you.

“I want you inside me, Kuna. I’ve been wanting it. Been thinking about how full you made me feel last time. It’s been so long, I want you inside me again”, you started to whine as you crawled up onto his lap. Two of his hands found their places on his hips, while the other two cradled your head. He was all for fucking you senseless until you coudln’t bare to not have his cocks inside you, but he also knew you hadn’t eaten since early in the morning. And since some stupid part of him remembered and cared about that he told you no.

“Not right now, pretty girl. I came here to eat with you and what we have eaten so far, isn’t quite what your body needs,” he said while standing up with your legs still around him. You started to protest but he simply quietened you with a kiss. He walked into your bathroom to find the tub empty, as if forgetting it wasn’t like his. He looked down at you, “I am going to take us to my bath, okay? I promise it won’t be like last time. I just want to get you cleaned up before we eat.” You were genuinely caught off guard by how sweet he was being tonight. It almost made you feel like you were talking to an imposter.

“Why are you being so sweet to me?”

He looked as caught off guard as you when you asked that. He blinked at you a few times before looking away. “Honestly, I don’t know. Never have a felt the need to care for something like I do for you. Never have I felt guilty about hurting someone like I do when I think about how I killed you. I don’t understand it, but I also don’t hate it. You have at least proved yourself to be worth caring about, so…”, he trailed off. You reached up and caressed his face before kissing him. Maybe he really wouldn’t be a bad partner, maybe.

Taglist: @missroro @roxytheimmortal

[spidermans-l-o-v-e-r]

Strawberries and Cream

I’m doing so good with this

Pairing: Eddie Diaz x Reader

Word count: 6.4k

Masterlist

🔪remember to reblog🔪

Notes: Im currently writing this while finishing chapter one lmao. No because if you ever see a “/“ in my work you better tell me RIGHT NEYOW because I don’t write things in order I skip whole scenes and then go back to that slash and write in what happens until it gets to the scene I wrote and if that’s there that means it’s about to get CONFUSING and I just forgot to write it. P.S I love it but I’m so sick of reading this chapter 🤣🤣🤣

Episode 2: Zoo Daze

Eddie takes his time shaving, his hands are shaking so badly he’s afraid he’s gonna slice his throat or something. Buck is sitting on his bed, looking over outfit options.

“So like… this is just a friend thing?” He asks Eddie as he makes a face at the green T-shirt, tossing it aside. He grabs the navy blue shirt and lays it over the jeans then takes a white sling bag from the closet. He pulls out his phone, clicking a few buttons before taking a picture.

“Yeah, just a friend thing” Eddie calls out from the bathroom “I just…I don’t wanna move too fast for her”

“Did you already imagine the dog?” Buck teases as he settles on Eddie’s beat-up Chuck Taylor’s, Eddie calls them “vintage” Buck calls him cheap.

“Leave Captain Barkley out of this, what did he ever do to you” Eddie walks out of the bathroom, wiping his face with a towel.

“Does she get to redecorate the house too? Because I know my cousin, you’re gonna be buried in stuffed animals”

“If that’s what she wants” Eddie tosses the towel down and looks over Buck's choices, shrugging as he starts getting dressed. “Trust me, I already know our styles are gonna fit. And even if they don’t we’ll just have a unique style together y’know? I’m easygoing, okay, you know that.”

Buck tosses him his cologne and Eddie sprays it on, putting on the teeniest, tiniest bit extra just so it’ll cling to you too. He fixes his hair one last time in the mirror and turns to Buck, his arms open.

“How do I look?” He does a spin, before crossing his arms over his chest. Buck studies him, narrowing his eyes before he gets up and goes through Eddie’s dresser, he grabs a nicer-looking watch and hands it to him

“This is gonna be weird” He stands against Eddie, leaning into his neck and inhaling slowly. His hands trail up his sides and he puts his hands on his chest. He smirks as his eyes roll back and he pulls away.

“Okay cool, you didn’t put too much on” He gives him a double thumbs up and Eddie rolls his eyes, chuckling.

“Pervert, you know you just wanted to feel me up”

“Are you gonna blame me?!” Buck throws his hands in the air in defense “And I swear I was making sure you didn’t put on too much cologne okay? And that’s probably the way Y/N would feel you up if you guys kiss so I gotta make sure your shirt is soft enough bro I’m looking out for you okay”

“Mhm I bet you are”

It’s cute how things are almost the same at Maddie’s house. She’s sitting on her bed, looking through all the clothes you brought over, phone in hand. You’re in the bathroom doing your hair, braiding it back.

“So it’s just a friend thing right?” She asks as she picks up a pink dress, tossing it aside.

“Yeah, that’s what we agreed on,” You say, coming out and taking off your robe, you toss it on the bed and Maddie hands you a blue and white gingham dress, with spaghetti straps and a tie in front. It’s short and playful, but still extremely cute

“Oh, and these!” She gets up, goes to her closet, and pulls out a pair of matching light blue Chuck Taylor’s “Chim got them for me before the pregnancy, they don’t exactly fit anymore” she chuckles as she tosses them on the floor in front of you

“You’re sure this isn’t too dressy?” You sound a bit worried as she ties the little bow in front and smiles at you

“Yeah, I’m sure it’s not too dressy. You look really good” She turns you around and grabs a white bow from the bed, putting it in your hair. She brushes off your shoulders and nods approvingly as she pushes you towards the mirror

“See? You look amazing! He’s gonna go crazy over you”

“We’re just friends Mads” You roll your eyes playfully “He’s not gonna go crazy over me”

“Hey, Eddie can appreciate beauty when he sees it, alright.” She smirks, Chim walks in, a smoothie in his hand.

“Oh heyyy, lookin' good Y/N I see what you’re doing there”

You giggle and Maddie pats your butt “See! You’re gonna be just fine, girly!”

Maddie helps you put on makeup, just a light, natural, look. She hands you the tube of strawberry lipgloss and you put it on, blowing a little kiss towards Chim who wolf whistles at you

“Okay. Maybe he’ll go a tiny bit crazy” You giggle as you spray your perfume over yourself. “He should be here soon, he said he’d be here at 10… is he normally on time?” You pack up your white mini backpack, stuffing a few snacks in there too.

“Usually yeah,” Chim says, swinging his feet as he sits on the bed. “Especially on dates”

“Does he date often?” You apply a little glitter to your collarbones just for funsies.

“No, not…for a while. But that’s kinda his story to tell. You’re the first in a while”

“I’m not the first” Your cheeks flush “It’s just two friends hanging out okay? And… that’s sort of good to know, at least I know what topic to avoid. Not that I’m trying to start a conversation about a relationship.”

Maddie rolls her eyes but allows it. It’s wildly clear to everyone you’re both smitten… hopefully, this is a good little push.

“Anyway” Maddie interrupts, the doorbell rings, there’s a weird commotion and then the front door slams.

“It’s me! It’s actually us, I asked for a ride” Buck says as he comes jogging into the bedroom. He stops when he sees you, absolutely melting. He clasps his hands together

“Awwwww oh my god. You look like a doll!!!” He comes over and hugs you, squeezing you. “Our baby is growing up!!!” He wipes a fake tear and you pat his back gingerly

“Thanks, Dad.” You snicker and Maddie pushes Buck away, threatening to punch him if he ruins your makeup.

“Hey isn’t Eddie outside” Chim points, getting up to get the door

“Oh my god, I totally forgot about that,” Buck says, his hands on his hips. “Wait- Wait Chim you gotta be cool you gotta be a dad! This is great practice!”

“Yeah. Yeah okay, a dad!” He grabs his smoothie cup and straightens out his shirt before smoothing his hair back.

“Oh my god. Let Eddie in!!!” Maddie yells at them and they both scramble out of the bedroom.

Maddie walks in front of you as you come out of the bedroom, Eddie hugs her and kisses her on the cheek before seeing you.

“Hey Y/N, you ready to…-“ he short circuits for a second, just staring at you. Buck shakes Chim and they hold onto each other.

He’s not even really being dramatic, god how could he be? If this is you for a “friend” date what the hell would you look like on a real date? He can practically see little puppy Captain Barkley Diaz now.

“Am I ready to?…-“ you smile up at him, batting your eyelashes teasingly. Earth isn’t even possible right now. He comes as close as Jupiter is as he looks down at you. You’re even matching, he’s not sure if it was on purpose or not but it’s cute it’s literally so damn cute.

“Um- uh. The… zoo are you ready to go to the zoo” He asks calmly, almost monotonously like he’d been practicing it on the way over.

“I’m ready!” You tell him excitedly, taking his hand and yanking on it.

“Let’s jet!”

Maddie and the boys wave you both off as you walk out, he opens the door for you, taking your hand and helping you up into the car. It’s Buck’s jeep, he practically demanded the two of you take it and said he cleaned it just for this occasion.

Eddie gets in, making sure you’re buckled in before turning on the jeep “You can play whatever you want”

You fiddle around with your phone for a second, hooking it up to the aux, and start scrolling through your playlists

“Okay this is just intimidating,” You say as you put on a random playlist

“Oh come on, you don’t want to show me who you are through music?” He smirks as he starts driving

“What if you think my music is trash?”

“I’m not gonna think your music is trash” he reassures you by turning up the volume.

It’s a fun mix of everything you like, you catch him mumbling along to “Oops…I did it again” he fully denies that one, but he does however proudly sing backups to “Wannabe and Too Much” by the Spice Girls. You’re both just messing around and having a good time… but of course, he can sing. His voice gives you chills and whilst you’re not so bad yourself it’s just a lot to handle.

“Sporty Spice carried those vocals,” Eddie says as he opens the car door for you, helping you out

“Buck says the same thing” You snort as you walk towards the entrance.

You guys stand in line together, you’re looking around the main lobby, it’s a pretty nice one. You look up at him, smiling widely

“I’m literally so excited, I hope they have elephants, I’ve always wanted to see an elephant!!”

“I’m pretty sure they do, we’ll get a map for you” Eddie takes your hand, his phone is scanned for the tickets and you head inside.

You’re like a child again, running around to each exhibit and pulling Eddie after you. He’s happy to take pictures of you with all the animals and you do the same. A woman comes over and offers to take a picture of the two of you, your cheeks flush as he hands her the phone and puts his arms around you, setting his head on your shoulder. You look at him just in time for the lady to take the picture

“Oh my god, you guys are so cute!!” She squeals, handing him back his phone

“Thank you” He smirks haughtily at you and you give his chest a whack.

“People are gonna think we’re together”

“Is that so bad?”

It’s not so bad, not really. You roll your eyes and look down at the map, your mouth drops open and you practically shove it in his face

“Look!!! They do have elephants!” You squeal as you grab his hand, and yank him with you. He stumbles after you, tripping over his own feet. It doesn’t even bother him in the least, watching you so excited and happy makes him feel giddy. Especially knowing he’s the one who brought you here.

You stop in front of the elephants, your head tilting up to stare at them

“Oh my god…” you say softly, staring at the gigantic animal in front of you. Your eyes are wide and sparkly… Eddie takes a picture of you, one he’ll keep to himself. You look euphoric and he knows he’s going to be hugging his phone to his chest and kicking his feet whenever he sees it again.

He wishes he could freeze this moment in time for you, you look over at him and his heart skips a beat at the smile on your face

“Isn’t it cool?” You giggle and he nods, a bit dumbly

“Uh-huh”

The butterflies around him don’t compare to the ones raging in his stomach, throwing an all-out rave.

You both sit in front of the elephants for a while, he eventually puts his arms around you and you lean into him, just watching them mess around in their habitat

“You wanna stay here all day? Or would you rather check out more animals”

“I wouldn’t mind seeing some Tigers”

You and Eddie end up on The Bridge, it’s a large structure high over the outdoor area for big cats. You find a place near a pair of binoculars and look down over the edge. You read from the information panel in front of you, learning all about Sean and Rhonda the tigers that live there.

Eddie is busy listening to you and looking through the binoculars when he gets eyes on Sean

“Huh… I wonder why he’s pacing like that. Been doing that for a while” Eddie aims the little binoculars at him again before stepping aside and giving you a chance to look through them at the tiger. He seems to be almost studying something. You look around for a bit, looking through the trees.

“Hey…Eddie?” You point towards a particularly odd-looking branch. “That- that kind of looks really easy for him to jump onto don’t you think?”

Eddie looks where you’re pointing, and he reaches out for your hand “Yeah it kind of freaking do-“

All hell breaks loose before he can even finish his sentence. The tiger takes a running start and jumps onto the tree, scaling it easily and heading straight for that branch. He’s out of his enclosure within 20 seconds. The bridge shakes as he lands.

You’re knocked over almost immediately as people start running and screaming, pushing each other out of the way to get away. The tiger roars before racing off in the opposite direction.

“Eddie?!”You scream for him. You’re on the ground, trying to push yourself up when you feel strong hands yank you up by your waist and you get thrown over someone’s shoulder.

You’re struggling a bit, before Eddie sets you down and pulls you with him, running to a little alcove outside the tiger exhibit. He hurries along, trying the doors until one finally gives.

“In here!” Eddie finds an unlocked supply closet and shoves you in first before rushing in behind you and slamming the door shut. You collapse on your butt, propped against the wall. You’re panting harshly, your hands shaking as Eddie gets down, crawling over to you

“Hey, hey look at me, are you okay?” He puts his hands on your face, his eyes searching your body frantically. You can feel his hands shaking just as hard as yours as he feels over your face. You’re a bit scuffed up and dirty but the tiger didn’t rip you to shreds so really it seems like a win.

“I’m- y-yeah no, no I’m okay. I’m okay. I think. I-“

He yanks you against his chest, burying his face in your neck as he holds you.

“Don’t ever let go of my hand again, do you understand me?” He pants, one hand on the back of your head and the other, fingers splayed across your back, squishing you against him. “God please never let go”

It takes a while for Eddie to calm down, you’re just sitting in his lap as he holds you close, rocking you slowly. You’re not sure who’s being comforted more, you or him. You can hear both of your phones blowing up in your pockets, the fire fam has gotten wind of what happened but neither of you wants to move to answer them. He rubs your side lovingly, his head on top of yours

“You doin' okay?” He asks, a bit more level-headed this time, his voice soft and even.

“Yeah but-“ You point to your knee, it’s pretty scraped up and bloody. He frowns, as he looks it over, he should have asked sooner. It’s not too bad but it definitely needs to be taken care of. He sets you down on the floor and takes off his bag.

“Are you doing okay?” You ask and he looks up at you, a grimace on his face and you decide not to push him on it. You look around the supply closet, it’s cool and dark, and there’s a window letting in a bit of light. You’re sort of hoping the Tiger isn’t smart enough to open doors, even if in theory that would be super cool.

“You know this has got to be the coolest day of my life” You snicker as Eddie takes out the supplies from his emergency kit. He’s finally able to part with you for the time being, he’s gotta put this first. This is his job, he can do it.

“Coolest huh? Why is that?”

He’s so concentrated on what he’s doing, using his “Fireman’s” voice. He pulls the antiseptic from the bag, his movements are fluid and practiced, he doesn’t even warn you when he goes to disinfect the wound, just immediately blots it.

You hiss in pain, jerking a little and he looks up at you “Why was it so cool?” He asks again softly, rubbing your leg. It’s distracting, he didn’t want to use that particular disinfectant because he knew it would sting but it was the best he had. He doesn’t stop blotting at it, but he does blow on it as he goes.

“A whole ass Tiger escaped its enclosure! And I got to see it happen!!” You tell him, watching him carefully as he cleans you up.

“I’m gonna be so real, I nearly shit my pants. That was terrifying.”

You laugh together as he reaches back in the kit, getting a large tan bandaid.

“You know, death by tiger? Would have been literally the most metal way to go out” You say, watching his skilled hands. Is it weird to say he’s super hot when he’s being all “hero, rescue, firefighter guy?”

“I think the only way it would be cooler was if you died fighting the tiger to save a child”

Your head falls back and you cover your mouth laughing.

“I’m glad you saved me though… Thank you. I could have gotten trampled… you’re like… really strong”

“Hey it’s my job to be strong,” He says, smiling as he looks up at you. He puts the bandaid on you and then reaches back into his kit, putting a cute Hello Kitty bandaid over the large tan one. “And I’ll always save you Y/N. I promise”

The announcement comes over the speakers that the tiger has been contained and that Investigators want to talk to everyone on the bridge. Eddie knows he shouldn’t. But he sneaks the two of you out of the zoo anyway, he’ll call the zoo later and tell them what happened. It’s well- a zoo in there right now and he just needs peace, and he can tell you’re just as frazzled. He helps you into the jeep and then gets in, slamming the door shut. It’s silent, there’s no screaming, no running…no growling. Just silence.

You lean your head on his shoulder, your hand still in his, and you rub soothing circles on the back of his hand. It’s a good 20 minutes before he finally turns on the car. It kind of seems like the chaos and screaming got to him and you’re a bit worried.

“I know a really good diner if you’re hungry, best diner you’ll ever go to I promise” He finally speaks up. He sets your hand on his thigh and you squeeze it lightly, leaving it there

“Yeah okay sounds good, but if you’re lying I’m gonna spray you with the hose.”

He snorts as he pulls out of the parking lot and rolls his eyes “How are you even gonna get the hose?”

“You honestly think Buck wouldn’t give it to me? And be there right behind me as I’m spraying you down? Like Chim and Hen wouldn’t be filming it!”

“I think at least Bobby would save me!!”

You giggle and slap his thigh playfully “He’s gonna be the one controlling the water”

You plop down in the booth across from Eddie, leaning back against the plush seating. The waitress drops two menus in front of you both and promises to come back soon with water to get you started.

“Do you know what you want?” Eddie asks as he leans forward, his arms on the table, his hand cradling his chin.

“Probably that burger” you shrug, laying your head down on your arm on the table. You’re both exhausted. Now that the adrenaline has worn off it’s time for a serious nap

“Yeah, same” he agrees, laying his head down with you. He reaches over, taking your hand in his as he closes his eyes. You smile softly as he rubs circles with his thumb over it. The waitress hesitantly approaches the table setting your water down

“You two seem exhausted” She smiles as she takes out her book

“You have no idea” Eddie chuckles, sitting up. He orders for the two of you, two bacon cheeseburgers with grilled onions and two strawberry lemonades. It’s like he knows how to read your heart at this point

The waitress- Annie, writes down your orders and sticks her pen back in her book

“That’ll be out soon! Oh my god have you two heard about the tiger escaping at the zoo? It’s all over everything already”

“Oh trust me. We heard” Eddie tells her, handing her the menus while she talks about it for a little bit before walking away to put in the orders, you look up at Eddie and shake your head

“I’m 90 percent sure I’m gonna have tiger PTSD”

He snorts and intertwines your fingers together again, shaking your hand a little. “As someone who actively denies? PTSD yeah no definitely can confirm absolute tiger PTSD”

You giggle, watching your hands together before looking at him curiously “Actively denies…-?” You leave it open-ended and he nods

“Don’t wanna talk about it though. Please if that’s okay”

“No no, it’s fine” you reassure him, squeezing his hand “Just…. I’m here for you. I’m sure you probably hear that a lot. But I do mean it, Eddie. You’re not alone”

“Eh… sometimes it feels like it” He admits, staring at your hands “No one knows what I went through you know? It’s just rough I guess. I don’t know, I’ll get over it.”

You look at him, a sad smile on your face “You won’t get over it Eddie… not, not without help. But you know what, I just met you. This is kind of our first hangout. I'm not going to go down this road with you right now unless you’d like to. It’s not exactly my place”

“Hey we survived a wild tiger mauling together, I think it’s your place” he jokes with you, lightening the mood, you giggle and shake your head

“I’m glad I escaped with my arm. He really went to town on it.”

Lunch is nice, Eddie was right this is the best diner you’ve ever been to.

“Oh my god” You moan around your bite and he nods, laughing as he bites his burger. “Told you I knew what I was talking about”

“I promise to never doubt you again, you know until I completely forget this moment” You steal an onion ring and he smirks, taking one of your fries.

“Don’t worry I’ll remember it for you”

You two eat together in silence, a “companionable” silence. You’re looking out the window and he’s on his phone for a bit before slipping it back in his pocket. It’s nice to be around him…everything is always so good when it comes to him.

“What should we do after this?” You ask as you dip a fry in ketchup. He watches you for a bit before shrugging

“If you wanted, We could go out somewhere else. Or maybe we could just hang out somewhere… something laid back. I- I want to keep hanging out with you, I do. But-”

“We just got semi-attacked by a tiger and now we’re sitting here staring off into space”

“Yeahhh..” He sighs, grabbing an onion ring. He tears it in half, giving you one.

“If uh… if you’re up for it maybe we could just… go relax at my place? For a bit? It’s close to here and the couch is pretty comfy”

You grin widely, taking the half of onion ring and tossing it into your mouth

“Sounds good to me”

“Here we are, home sweet home” Eddie pulls into his driveway and shuts off the car. It’s around 4 pm but neither of you wanted the day to end and honestly, maybe you’re just still wanting to be by his side for a bit. He gets out and comes around, opening the door for you.

“Such a gentleman” You tease as you hop out, he flicks you off and shuts the door, locking it behind him. He lets you in the front door first, and you look around. It's very clean and put together, definitely a bit masculine in decoration. You slip off your shoes and go into the house

“Nice place you got here,” you tell him and he smiles, putting his hand on your lower back and guiding you over to the living room

“Thanks, Buck crashes here like… a lot. So you’ll probably find some of his stuff too if you feel like changing, or I can offer you something. Not that you’re not still looking absolutely stunning you know, just if you wanted to change. Can I get you something to drink?”

You look around the living room already spotting a pair of your cousin's shoes

“Yeah sure, thanks. And maybe I’ll change, I haven’t decided yet. You can though if you want to”

He walks away to get the drinks and you look at the pictures he has around, some of them are of the team and his friends. One of him in a military uniform with a group of people. Huh…that explains a little at least.

“So this is where I would be staying huh?” You smirk playfully as Eddie comes back into the living room, he hands you a bottle of tea and you crack it open. You turn away from the photos pretending you haven’t gotten that far.

“Yeah, I suppose it is” he chuckles. He motions with his bottle and you follow after him, he’s got a spare room, it’s a pretty decent size. “This would be your room… I mean if you wanted. I’d even give you the main if you wanted it”

You look around the room, it’s simple, bright, and airy. He says that and you whirl around “There’s no way in hell I’d take your bedroom from you! Especially if I was staying here”

He puts his hands up in defense and laughs lightly “Hey I’m an easygoing guy alright? I just want you to be comfortable- or no-. I would want you to be comfortable”

“Comfortable is this, Eddie. I wouldn’t take your bedroom away from you”

“Who knows,” he turns on his heel as he leaves the room “Maybe we can just share mine”

Your mouth drops open and you race after him “Hey! Hey, you get back here!”

Eddie refuses to acknowledge anything you say on the topic of what he just said, acting innocent and batting his eyelashes

“I think you’re hearing things” His voice was high-pitched and sweet. You shove him down onto the couch and sit next to him crossing your arms over your chest and huffing. It gets a few giggles out of him but he still doesn’t address it no matter how much you pout.

Eventually, like a toddler, you tire yourself out and just sit on the couch with him. There is a seat between you but it just feels like more than that. You pull your feet up on the couch and lay your head on the armrest staring at the SpongeBob episode on screen. The fish on screen is screaming about chocolate and you hear Eddie chuckle

“Are you joking?” You giggle as you turn your head to look at him

“This is literally classic SpongeBob. I'm not supposed to find it funny?” He asks, clearly wounded as he takes the throw blanket from the back of the couch, he opens his arm to you. “C’mere hater” he motions with his hand and you push up from the armrest, scooting across the mile-long seat in between the two of you and curling up into his side. He throws the blanket over the two of you and you grab onto his shirt.

“Yeah okay, I guess… I mean I still quote the paper skin thing so”

Eddie snickers as his hand lays on your thigh, he rubs soft, soothing circles, that send chills up your spine

“I’m like pretty sure Buck and I were literally just screaming chocolate last week anyway”

You cuddle together, watching SpongeBob for a few hours. It’s comforting and mind-numbing, it feels good to be in his arms. Eventually, you do take him up on his offer and he gives you a t-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts. You change into them and plop back down with him, his outfit almost identical. It’s around nine when he pulls out his phone and starts scrolling

“Chinese sound good?” He asks and you look up at him, your eyes a little sleepy

“For what”

“Dinner?” It sounds like a question more than an answer “I figured it’s been a while since we ate…and I didn’t go grocery shopping so like..-“

“Okay yeah, that sounds good. What’s your cash app?” You pull out your phone and he takes it from you immediately, tossing it across the couch

“Eddie!!”

“There’s no way in hell I’m letting you pay for it so just shut up and say thank you”

“Why didn’t you just not tell me your cash app??” You look at him, and he stops for a second, narrowing his eyes as he thinks.

“Mmm…yeah that was probably a better idea”

You sit up and snatch your phone from the other side of the couch, punching him in the side is a given, and then you lay back against him. He’s laid on the couch, his head comfortably resting on the pillows and you’re on top of him a bit, most of your body buried into the side of the couch.

He runs his fingers down your arm, just stroking it softly. It’s nice, it kinda tickles and you wriggle against him

“You know if I were to stay somewhere I wouldn’t mind if it was here. It’s pretty nice. You do a really good job taking care of your house”

Eddie’s heart flutters, and jumps and does like a roundhouse kick he’s not sure he just knows it’s going wild and he must have an entire butterfly farm in there cause god you’re making him all shy and giddy

“Oh? Well thanks that means a lot”

His voice is cool and even, even though he’s trying his best not to just squeeze the life out of you. Instead, he decides to squish the life out of you. He turns over and puts his arms and legs around you, you push at his chest and groan

“Eddie, you're squishing me! Get off!” Your voice is muffled as it’s buried in his chest

“Hmm my couch my rules, I’m pretty comfy right here” He purrs, holding onto you like a koala bear. You struggle underneath him until you finally give in. He’s warm and soft and overwhelms your senses, his cologne sticks to your body and you rarely wanna take this dress off

“Eddie get your fat butt off of me” you hiss and he snickers, wiggling his hips

“Wait, you think my butt is fat? Like what kinda fat? Like P-h-a-t? Or like is it Thicc with two C’s”

You’re laughing like a hyena into his chest as he goes about all the possible meanings and you slap his chest

“Double C’s maybe even triple when you’re in your work pants,” you tell him, winking dramatically

“That is literally the nicest damn compliment I have ever gotten in my entire life” He wipes a fake tear and rolls off of you, pulls you back onto him, and hugs you tightly to his chest

“Don’t worry, I like your ass too” His voice is so flirty and light. You feel his hands flow down your back, stopping just before they slide under the waistband of the basketball shorts. He easily turns his attention back toward the TV and you’re left a blushing mess on his chest.

Once the food arrives, you wander into the dining room with him, he goes to the kitchen, grabs a couple of bowls, and hands you one.

“You know most people just eat it right out of the carton,” You tell him as you spoon some rice into your bowl

“Yeah on tv maybe” he teases, using chopsticks to put an egg roll in your bowl “But we’re sharing”

You hold a piece of orange chicken up to his mouth and he takes it off your chopsticks “Yeah but how are we supposed to be cute and feed each other” you snicker and he rolls his eyes, chewing his bite

“Oh yeah because our diner experience wasn’t cute enough, holding hands at the table, stealing fries”

“Oh, so you wanted to be cute with me?” Your response is fast and cheeky and his mouth drops open

“I-Okay you know what, shut up and eat your egg roll!” He shoves your head away and you squeal laughing.

He lets you pick whatever you want to watch and you just continue with SpongeBob. You get comfy on the couch with him, your bowl in your lap as you eat together again.

“I realize now, that it’s been 650 hours… but did you ever text everyone back that we were okay?”

Eddie had texted everyone, he handled the entire storm for you, aka Buck’s 57 messages. Maddie was next in line with 34.

“Yeah of course, I told them you were okay too and just needed to shut your phone off” he scrolls through his phone for a second before showing you a picture, you’re staring out of the window of the diner. It’s a pretty picture, and surprisingly photogenic.

“Oh…Thanks” you say shyly, smiling softly at him, leaning you over, putting your head on his shoulder

“You’re the bestest friend a girl could have Eddie”

He kisses your head and lays his cheek on it “You’re welcome sugar cube, anything for you”

Eddie turns down the covers on the bed as you get ready in the bathroom. He smoothly asked you to stay the night… if awkwardly stumbling through his sentence and wringing his hands while dropping the bowl he was washing was smooth.

You’d agreed, giggling at him as you helped pick up the pieces. You said it was too late to be driving anyway and he was glad you agreed. Just a nice, happy, friendly, sleepover. A little tiny sleepover between best friends. “Bestest” she’d said.

You come out of the bathroom in just the t-shirt he’d lent you, you stuff your bra and dress into your mini backpack and put your hands on your hips

��Guess this’ll be a test drive huh?” You tease as you crawl into bed. He tucks you in and it makes you giggle when he leans down and kisses your head

“You know I am serious Y/N, if you need a place to stay my door is always open”

“I think I believe you…” You say quietly as he sits on the edge of your bed “But I just don’t know… it’s a big step, moving across the country. I- I don’t even have a job here and-“

“Hey don’t worry about that,” He says quietly shushing you “I can… I can take care of you”

You look up at him, your cheeks flushed “What are you, my sugar daddy?” you joke as you pull the covers up higher on your neck. He snickers and gets off the bed, going to the door

“Yeah sure I’m totally sugar daddy material” he snorts, his hand pauses on the light switch

“Just….just think about it okay?”

You nod at him, blushing “Yeah okay Eddie… I will.”

He shuts off the lights and closes the door, you’re plunged into darkness…alone with your thoughts.

It’s a couple of hours before your brain finally slows down…Eddie wants you to move in with him? Or at least he’s willing to let you. And like….he wants to take care of you… that’s. That’s fun. What a good friend, what an amazing friend.

Friend.

That word is getting kinda interesting, and used incredibly loosely at this point. Eddie isn’t your boyfriend…he’s your friend but like…. What if he was your boyfriend?

You frown, no. No, it’s not time to think like that, it's time to sleep.

Your eyes pop open angrily. Now it’s three in the morning and this is getting stupid. Maybe it’s because it’s pitch black? That seems reasonable, you’re used to a nightlight. Not that you wish he was there with you no sir, not that.

Not even that you’re kind of freezing… and he certainly wouldn’t want you to freeze to death…

“Eddie? Are you awake?” You ask quietly, poking your head through his door. You can see him in bed, the moonlight streaming through the bedroom window. He stirs a little and turns over

“Yeah” his voice is deep and raspy with sleep “I’m awake sugar cube, is everything okay?”

“Did I wake you?” You step into his room, shutting the door.

“I mean… yeah but I don’t wanna say it” he snickers, sitting up in bed. You pad over softly and climb in with him. You climb over him messily and he rolls his eyes as you slip under the covers. You lay on the other side of the bed, facing him. He lays down and faces you

“Hi”

“Hi”

You smile softly “Just thought you could use some company”

“Aren’t you so thoughtful?” He teases, reaching out for you. You shyly shuffle into his arms, your head resting on his chest

“This okay?” He asks quietly, you can hear his heart beating and it’s soothing. His bare chest is soft against your cheek.

“Uh huh… it’s nice”

“Yeah it is, isn’t it? He whispers into your hair. It doesn’t take long for you both to fall asleep. He didn’t even bother asking why you were there; he just knew he wanted you there. It had been a while since anyone had warmed his bed, and he hadn’t realized how deep the craving was until you were safely nestled in his arms. Friends was starting to become a very useless word, very quickly

And that didn’t bother him one bit.

[madaqueue]

Practice Makes Perfect | Chapter 5

synopsis: you and yuji have been best friends basically as long as you can remember, and you made a promise to each other to stay friends and help each other be the best versions of yourselves for your future partners. but will things change when yuji finally starts looking for a relationship?

pairing: yuji itadori (18+) x f!reader

themes/content: modern college au (characters aged up to 18+). language, smut. oral (m receiving), fingering (f receiving), gagging. 18+, MDNI

word count: 2.2 k

a/n: i need a fucking cig after writing this chapter lmao

previous chapter | series masterlist | next chapter

Yuji’s eyes grow wide and he nearly spits out his food at your request. He knew you were direct, but holy shit, he never would have expected this. Frankly, you don’t know where the sudden confidence came from either - was it jealousy? Anger? Lust?

He tries to hide a choke while moving his hands down over his lap, hoping you don’t notice the growing bulge in his slacks as he mentally processes what you just asked him.

“Did you hear me, Yu?” you say, leaning over the table slightly so your cleavage becomes more visible. “I said-”

“I-I heard you,” he cuts off with a stutter, his eyes trying to look everywhere but your now exposed chest.

“So, what do you think then? Is that alright with you?” your tone sultry as you bring an elbow up to the table and rest your chin on your open palm.

“Y-yes, of course,” he stutters, face turning red. “When were you thinking? I mean, your date is tomorrow, so I guess now? Should w-we go? We can go now,” he rambles.

You reach your other hand up to his cheek trying to calm him, his skin hot under your touch as you nod. A small “Mhm” purrs through your lips

What has gotten into you? You have never been this direct with anything in your life, and now you’re suddenly asking to give your best friend head? You blame it on being excited for your date with Megumi. Then again, you’re not even sure it is a date, since he did see you on Yuji’s bed the first time you met. You don’t even know if you have feelings for him, you just felt your mind get cloudy when Yuji smiled down at that damn phone and it’s like your body was moving on its own before you could catch up.

Yuji stands up, grabs his wallet out of his pocket and drops a few $100 bills on the table before holding out his hand for yours. You grab it and stand, eyes widening at the cash he just casually dropped on the table. “Holy shit Yu, where’d you get that kind of money?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he says with a sheepish grin as he pulls you through the restaurant and outside. Honestly, it was all of the money he had budgeted for this date and his one next week with Nobara, and it was probably nearly double the cost of your entire meal, but he just couldn’t wait for them to bring the check. He had to have you, now.

The walk back to your dorm was nearly silent, Yuji’s hand not leaving yours the entire time and you could feel his palm getting slightly clammy as he refused to untangle his fingers from yours. You open the door to your room and realize it’s Yuji’s first time ever seeing it. His eyes glance around, noting the off-white bedding and pink pillows, matching the pink rug on the floor. There’s a soft glow from the string lights hanging up around the walls and the soft scent of vanilla hits his nose as he steps in and takes his shoes off. “It smells like you,” he whispers, almost to himself.

You close the door behind him and step out of your heels, feeling the cold ground underneath your feet as you guide him to the bed, hands still linked together. He stands in front of the bed and you start to slowly undo the buttons on his shirt, looking up to him for approval and he responds with a slight nod. You never realized before now, but Yuji was tall. Was he always this tall? It felt like he was towering over you as your hands worked his shirt off. His hands were behind him against the bed, needing the extra support or else he worried he might fall over, his heart was beating so fast.

When you get to the last button he almost instantly tosses his sport coat and shirt across the room, landing in a pile in front of your closet. Now shirtless in front of you, your hands lazily traced down his abs - again, when did he get so toned? He ate like shit, and even though you did recall him mentioning going to the gym everyday, how was this body hiding under those loose sweatshirts the whole time?

His breath hitches as your fingers reach the hem of his pants. “H-hah,” he breathes. “Y-your hands are soft,” he practically blurts out. A moment of silence passes. “So um, what now?” he tries to redirect.

You aren’t quite sure either. You pause for a moment, fingers looped around his waistband. You realize that if this is going where you expect it is, you don’t really want to ruin your dress (it was a wager even wearing a nice outfit around Yuji given the wine-debacle that happened last time), so you slowly take it off without saying anything, leaving you in a similar matching black bra and panty set to the one he accidentally saw you in last time, but this one notably showing more cleavage and ass, although you hadn’t turned around so Yuji could see it yet.

“Wow” he breathes. “All that for me?” he teases, and you roll your eyes in response.

Trying to think of what to do next, you realize it’s probably easiest if Yuji just stays standing where he is rather than trying to fit both of you on your twin bed. You slide down onto your knees in front of him, feeling the carpet rubbing against you as you bring your hands into your lap. Tilting your head, you look up at him. He feels his heart nearly leap out of his chest and his cock twitch at the eye contact, trying to shut down the thought of how pretty you look on your knees. Your hands slide up his pants and back to his waistband, this time undoing his belt, button, and lowering the zipper. You slowly pull his pants down to his ankles and he steps out of them, kicking them to the side. He’s left in only his black boxers, a visible tent forming in the middle.

The scene causes you to shiver, feeling the space between your legs growing wet. You look up at him one more time and he reaches a hand down to your face, his thumb gently brushing against your cheek. You swallow and slowly pull his boxers down, his cock bouncing out and nearly hitting him in the stomach from how hard he is.

Holy. Shit. Yuji is huge. Your eyes widen involuntarily and your mouth starts to water as you try to think through the logistics of what you’re about to do. You look down at your wrist for a hair tie so you don’t have to worry about it getting in your way, but you must have forgotten one today. Of course, you think to yourself, the one day you need it. Almost as if he can read your mind, Yuji reaches his other hand down to the side of your face and pulls your hair back for you, holding it behind your head in a makeshift ponytail. “I got you,” he hums, looking down at you. You smile up at him in acknowledgement before turning your attention back to the task at hand.

You lick your lips, trying to plan where to even start. His flushed tip is almost perfectly level with your mouth, a drop of precum leaking out of it. You reach one hand up to his thigh to steady yourself and one around the base of his shaft. Parting your lips slightly, you lick the precum from his slit as he lets out a soft moan. Okay, so that’s good, you think. You open your mouth slightly farther and move his tip into your mouth, gliding your tongue around it. Another guttural moan leaves Yuji’s lips, this one slightly deeper than the last.

So far so good, but eventually you’re going to have to figure out how to take all of him down your throat. To get a better gauge of how difficult that will be, you pull your lips away and instead move to where your hand rests at his base. Sticking your tongue out, you lick up his length. His hands start shaking as they hold your hair back and his breathing speeds up. “That feel good?” you ask softly, knowing the answer. He looks down at you and eagerly nods.

With your confidence building, you open your mouth wider and begin sliding his cock into your mouth and down your throat. A soft “F-fuck” leaves his lips as you work your way down slowly. Suddenly, you stop. Shit. You can feel yourself hitting the back of your throat, and when you open your eyes you’re barely halfway down his length.

Yuji’s body takes over for him as you feel a pressure on the back of your head. He doesn’t even realize he’s moving you, all he knows is that he needs more. You let out a groan that vibrates along his cock as he pushes himself farther into your throat. “That’s my girl,” he praises without thinking, “take all of me. You can do it”

The words and the feeling of his tip reaching farther into you causes that familiar warmth to pool between your legs. You instinctively start grinding your hips against your legs, trying to get any sort of friction. Your lips hit the hand you previously held around his base, letting you know you’re almost there. You move that hand to his waist and grip him hard, using the force to pull your head towards him. Your nose hits against his pelvis as you take the rest of him into your mouth, desperately trying not to let your gag reflex get the better of you.

You feel his cock twitch in your mouth as your tongue moves along the bottom of him, slowly removing your mouth. You sharply inhale when you finally pull far enough out to breathe again, making sure to keep his tip between your lips as you slowly roll your tongue around it.

Now determined, you suck in another breath before starting back down his length again. This time you do it without any help from Yuji. Your head continues bobbing along his dick, and you feel it get easier to take each time you slide him to the back of your throat. You start paying attention to when he takes in gasps or lets out soft moans, making a mental note of what feels good without having to ask each time.

As you continue, you start being able to feel how you’ve soaked through your panties. Since you no longer need both hands, you move one down between your legs to slowly rub against your needy clit. The action forces a moan out of your throat, something you know Yuji likes because he immediately responds with a deep groan. Only this time, he continues, “Fuck, just like that. Keep going, please,” he practically begs. You take his full length into your mouth as you continue tracing circles around your wet cunt. “I-I’m gonna cum,” he breathlessly groans. All of a sudden his hands start shaking and he thrusts his hips up, pushing himself impossibly farther into your mouth. A sound, somewhere between a groan and a whine, escapes his lips, as you feel ropes of cum shoot down the back of your throat. You swallow it instinctively, barely noting the salty taste. You gently slide your lips off from around his cock as his hands fall away from your hair and down to his side.

Sitting back on your knees, you tilt your head up to look at Yuji, who stands above you with his eyes closed, panting. “You don’t, shit, you don’t have to swallow, I’m sorry-” he starts, eyes still closed.

You cut him off by suddenly standing up and attaching your lips to his, the feeling causing him to shiver against the bed. His hair has fallen forward and is slightly damp with sweat as it brushes against your forehead. Pulling away from the kiss for a moment, you whisper against his lips “Don’t apologize,” before pressing your lips against the side of his mouth, placing a gentle kiss before moving back and letting him catch his breath.

He finally meets your gaze with half-lidded eyes, pupils wide. A lopsided grin immediately forms on his face as he collapses onto the bed behind him. “Wow,” he whispers, “you are like, crazy good at that.”

You can’t help but giggle at the praise as you hop onto the bed next to him. “So, no notes?” you tease, placing another kiss onto his cheek as his smile just continues to grow.

“No notes,” he affirms, relishing in the full-body euphoria he is currently experiencing as he shuts his eyes. “Wait a minute,” he pauses, opening his eyes to look at the ceiling. “You were…you were doing something, during that, weren’t you?” He turns his gaze to you.

“What? Oh, you mean when I was touching myself?” you answer hesitantly.

“Yeah,” he responds, slowly moving towards you, “that.” You’re suddenly face to face with him, and you realize just how fucked-out Yuji looks. His brown eyes are practically completely black from his blown out pupils, his mouth loosely hanging open in a grin. He reaches a hand up to push his pink hair out of his eyes, never once removing his gaze from your lips. “You know, I’ve never had a chance to practice that before.”

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[amberlink]

Scrapped chapter from How To Jeopardise Your Friendship With Remus Lupin!

This chapter was the original chapter 15 (now called Marlene Makes a Very Nice Sign). The deleted section starts after Remus, James, and Sirius come inside the castle after playing in the snow.

Original chapter name: A Minor Marijuana Mishap

Original chapter notes: This chapter has the vibe of a sitcom episode (their behaviour is extra fictional lmao, and there is more humour than there is actual contribution to the plot) (<- this is why I scrapped it. It's ridiculous.)

If I had actually gone through with posting this, it would’ve undergone far more editing and revising, so this is a pretty raw version.

CW for unintentional drug use (they accidentally ingest marijuana - no one is purposely drugged)

Word count: 5,161

They made their way back into the castle, stopping for a quick breakfast before heading back up to the dorm to change and shower.

The girls were awake, and all three of them looked up from where they were gathered around the fireplace as Remus, James, and Sirius stepped through the portrait hole. Peter was sitting with them, too.

Marlene raised her hand, holding something round, crumbs falling. “You guys want some?”

“What is it?” James asked, already heading over.

“They’re biscuits,” Marlene said, breaking off a piece of it and popping it in her mouth. “My brother’s friend gave him a bunch of containers of ‘em, and he gave me one to bring to school.”

“They’re magnificent,” Mary confirmed, nodding as she took a bite of her own. They were all picking them out of a square tin dish.

“They really are,” Peter said. "And they're chocolate, Moony."

“I’ll have some,” James said, accepting one from Marlene.

“You’re eating these for breakfast?” Remus asked, raising an eyebrow at them. “Lily, you’re eating these for breakfast?”

Lily threw her free hand out in defence. “What, like there are rules!”

“Evans is right, there are no rules,” Sirius said, taking the open seat next to Peter on the double-person chair.

“Okay,” Remus said, because he didn’t care enough to argue. Everyone would just have to deal with James and Sirius hyped up on sugar during Potions. “I’m gonna go have a shower, then.”

“You’re missing out,” Mary sang after him.

“Maybe next time,” he said over his shoulder.

He showered, meaning to be quick but definitely standing under the hot water for longer than usual, not thinking about anything. Not thinking about Sirius in the snow underneath him, or his thumbs pressing through Remus’s coat. 

Remus turned the water cold.

He got out, scrunching his hair with the towel. It was longer than he had ever had it before, so he had to actually put in an effort to care for it, not wanting it to look too matted or frizzy. He stole James and Sirius’s hair products and massaged them into his scalp, not sure what any of them did.

His friends still weren’t here, but sometimes they didn’t shower between exercising and class— no matter how much Remus encouraged that they did. But he supposed they had only played in the snow, so they really just had to dry off and change.

Remus got dressed in his robes, and he was searching for his tie at the bottom of his wardrobe when there was a knock at the door. He found his tie, straightening and starting to put it on.

“You can come in,” he said, confused because his friends never knocked. “You two better hurry, you’re gonna be late for class. Especially Sirius.”

Whoever it was knocked again, slower this time.

“Hello?” Remus said, staring at the door. He finished tying his tie as he walked over to open it. “What are you—”

“Moony got the door open,” Sirius said, smiling up at him. “He’s so smart.”

Remus raised his eyebrows. “What is wrong with you?”

James suddenly gripped Remus’s shoulder, pulling him close and poorly whispering, “Moony. Moons. Can I call you Remus?”

“...Sure.”

“Moony, there might possibly be a…” He lowered his voice even further, tugging Remus so that their foreheads were almost touching. “Situation.”

“What the hell are you talking—”

Then he smelled it.

“Oh my god,” said Remus, his eyes wide. “Are you guys high?!”

“No!” James said, sounding terribly offended.

Sirius burst into a fit of giggles, nearly falling over.

“Oh my god,” he repeated. He grabbed each of their arms and dragged them into the room, kicking the door shut after them. “What the hell were you thinking, getting high before class? Are you bunking off, then? It’s the first bloody day.” 

He sat them both on Sirius’s bed. Sirius fell to lay on his back and James looked like he might cry.

“Where’d you put the joint?” he asked, annoyed. “How much did you smoke?”

“No, Moony, we didn’t,” James said, pleading with him. “We swear.”

Sirius sat back up. “I remember what I was going to say,” he announced.

“What, Sirius?”

Sirius stared at Remus’s tie in thought, his eyes unfocussed. “I forgot again.”

There was another knock on the door. Remus pointed a finger at the boys to tell them to stay, then turned to go answer it.

It was Lily this time, holding the tin biscuit container that only had crumbs in it now. Her lips were pressed together so tightly that they were turning white.

“Lily?”

“We ate them all,” she whispered, horrified.

“I see that,” Remus said. “What’s wrong? Do you not feel well, because maybe that’s why people don’t eat chocolate biscuits for breakfast.”

“There are so. Many. Stairs,” Marlene panted as she came into view, and she wiped her eyebrow even though she wasn’t sweating at all.

Remus stared at her. “Okay, what the fuck is going on?”

Marlene leaned in the doorway, reaching a hand over Lily’s head to grip the frame. “Hey, Lupin,” she said, smiling at him. “You’re gorgeous, you know that?”

“Hey!” Sirius shouted from inside.

“You’re gorgeous, too, Sirius,” James assured him.

“Did you all get high?” Remus asked, swivelling his head between them in disbelief.

Marlene tapped her finger on the empty bottom of the tin box in Lily’s hand. “I think— I think,” she said, tapping it again, “that my most dearest, most idiot brother gave me the wrong box of biscuits.”

“Situation,” James echoed.

Remus’s mouth hung open, then he snatched the container from Lily’s hand, lifting it up to smell the inside of it. It took him a second, then he got a hint of the earthy scent of marijuana.

“Do you have a super nose?” Marlene asked.

Remus looked at her, and he reached a hand up to pull at his damp hair as his stress multiplied. This problem just became so much bigger. 

He tossed the box on the floor of their dorm. “Okay,” he said. “Both of you get in here.”

Lily was shaking her head, her hands covering her face. “Remus, we have class. We have Potions class.”

“I know, I need a second to think.”

“I hate when people think, I get so bored,” complained James.

“This is the worst,” groaned Sirius. “All you ever do is think, think, think. And how often do you think about me? I bet it’s never!” 

“Black, shut up,” snapped Marlene. “No more talking!”

“Hey, don’t talk to my friend Sirius like that!” said James.

Remus was ignoring them. He coaxed Lily into the room, and he led her to Peter’s bed. “Sit,” he commanded, pushing her shoulders down.

“McKinnon, get your shoes off of Moony’s bed!” Sirius began shouting. “He doesn’t like shoes on his bed!”

“Sirius, shh,” Remus said. “It’s fine for right now.”

“Her shoes are your bed,” he tattled, pointing at where Marlene was laying on her side on his bed.

“Marlene,” Remus said, grabbing her shoulder to make her roll on her back. He hovered over her, trying to keep her attention. “Do you know how much weed was in the biscuits? Did they have anything else in them?”

She blinked at him slowly. “Your guess is as good as mine, Lupey.”

“How many did you eat?” He straightened to address the rest of them. “How many did all of you eat— Where are Peter and Mary?”

“I don’t know,” James said proudly. 

“You don’t know what? How many biscuits you ate or where Peter and Mary are?”

James’s face screwed up in concentration, squinting at Remus behind his glasses. “Er, yes?”

“I had two,” Lily piped up. “Or three, or four. One of those.”

“Mary’s from Liverpool,” added Marlene.

“Alright, no one move,” Remus said, gesturing to everyone. “I’m gonna go get Peter and Mary. Then we’ll figure out what the hell to do.”

“‘What the hell to do,’” mocked Marlene, making her voice hoarse and scratchy.

Remus sighed frustratedly, and he hurried from the dorm, hoping to find Mary and Peter civilly sitting on the sofa. He came into the Common Room to find that they were definitely not doing that.

Mary was on her hands and knees at the top of the stairs to the girls’ dorm, giggling loudly as Peter tried to climb up to get to her. He took a running start towards the staircase, sprinting up the first few steps, then the whole thing turned into a chute and Peter fell forward, sliding down on his stomach until he reached the bottom again. He was also laughing hysterically.

Remus weaved through the people that were leaving the Common Room to go to their first class, and he wrapped his hand around Peter’s arm before he could have another attempt at the stairs.

“Pete, hey.”

Peter looked at him for a long second. “Ouch, Moony,” he said.

Remus let go. “Oh, fuck, sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Peter took off running again now that he was free. He leaped up a few stairs, scaling them quickly and almost making it to the top that time.

“I was so close!” he said triumphantly, sitting on the floor a few seconds later.

Mary pumped a fist in the air. “So close!”

“Alright, guys, enough,” Remus said, walking forward again.

“I am not a guy,” Mary said seriously. 

“One more try,” Peter said.

“No, do you want another biscuit?”

“Oh my god, those biscuits were so good,” Mary said, coming down the steps to join them.

Remus waved them on. “Well, I found more in the boys’ dorm, so let’s go.”

When he finally managed to get Mary and Peter to the dorm—practically dragging Peter up the stairs because he was convinced they were going to turn into a slide—he found that Lily was missing.

“Oh for Christ’s sake, where did Lily go?” he asked the rest of them. He directed Peter towards his own bed, and Mary towards James’s, and instructed them to close their eyes and rest if they wanted another cookie.

“I’m not tired,” Mary said, looking at him like he was an idiot.

“Then just pretend,” Remus said.

He checked the bathroom, coming up Lily-less, and asked where she was once again.

“I don’t know,” Sirius said. “But we listened, Moony. We didn’t move one time. Look at Prongs, even.”

Remus looked at James, who was sitting with his mouth half open and his hand held mid-itch at his jaw, frozen in place. 

“Prongs, you can move. Just stay sitting.”

James let out a dramatic exhale, dropping his arm. “Thanks, Moony.”

“Marlene, did you see where Lily went?”

“I had my eyes closed,” she said, laying on her back on Remus’s bed with her eyes still closed. She had her arms crossed over her chest like she was in a coffin.

“Okay, well, did she say where she went?” Remus asked, exasperated.

“Yeah. She went to class.”

Remus tipped his head back with a silent groan. “Okay,” he said. “We’re already going to be late, but we can’t all skip class, or Slughorn will notice something’s up.”

“Oh, no,” whispered Peter. “We’ll get in so much trouble.”

“Not you, Pete,” Remus said. “You and Mary don’t take Potions, so you can sleep until lunch.” He closed the curtains around Peter’s bed, shutting him inside. “Goodnight.”

“Gracias a Merlin,” Peter said sleepily.

“Lily’s already on her way,” Remus continued, thinking aloud. “So she’ll be there…probably. And I’ll have to go, and… Marlene, you come too. James and Sirius can stay.”

All three of them groaned loudly about this plan.

“We can go, Moony. We’ll be good,” Sirius promised. 

“Snivellus is going to ruin our potion,” James said grumpily.

“No, you won’t,” Remus told Sirius, “and no, he won’t,” he told James.

“That was so confusing,” Marlene whined, sitting up and scrubbing her face.

“I’m not even talking to you,” Remus said. “But, c’mon, get up. Meadowes will hopefully take control of your table.”

Marlene scoffed, her expression darkening. “Ugh, Meadowes.”

“Probably shouldn’t have brought that up,” Remus muttered under his breath, looping his arm through Marlene’s.

“Stupid Meadowes, and her stupid smooth skin, and her stupid eyelashes, and her stupid mouth,” Marlene continued grumbling.

“I get it, you think she’s stupid,” he said.

He stopped on his way to the door, turning to James and Sirius. “Listen, you two just hang out here. Take a nap, okay? I’ll be back after class, and… Why don’t you give me your wands?” he added, having a sudden vision of returning to their dorm in flames.

He collected James and Sirius’s wands, putting them in his robe pocket with his own, took his school bag from beside his bed, and then grabbed Marlene’s wrist to pull her the whole way to the dungeons. He was rushing, not wanting to be more than a minute or two late. The less attention on Marlene, the better. He wondered how Lily was managing, if she had even made it to the classroom.

Thankfully, Slughorn hadn’t started lecturing yet when Remus and Marlene walked in, and he was still bustling around the storage room behind his desk. Remus was out of breath, and he steered Marlene towards her table in the back.

“Go and take your seat,” he whispered. “Don’t bring any attention to yourself. Let Meadowes handle anything involving a knife.”

“Get off me,” Marlene said, shaking her arm free of his hand. “I’m fine.”

Remus watched nervously as she took careful steps to her table, walking around Dorcas and pulling out her stool so that it scraped loudly on the floor. She gave him a smug look as she sat down, silently saying, ‘See?’

Remus rolled his eyes, and he accidentally caught Meadowes looking at him. Her dark eyes were intimidating, studying him, and she didn’t care to break eye contact. Remus cleared his throat awkwardly, raised a hand in a sort of half-wave, then spun around to go to his own table.

Lily was here, sitting alone at her and Sirius’s table in front of Marlene and Dorcas. She had her elbows on the surface and her hands bunching up her hair on either side of her head.

Remus placed a hand on her back. “Hey, you alright?”

She dropped her hands and looked up at him with wide eyes, her hair frizzy where she had been holding it. “I need help. Please help me.”

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his heart skipping a beat. He didn’t know what else had been in those biscuits.

“My hair’s not working,” she said, grabbing a handful and shaking it frustratedly. 

“Oh,” he breathed out.

“I can’t pull it back, my hair bobble doesn’t work,” she went on, her voice wavering. “It’s in the rules. My hair has to be pulled back for Potions class. It’s in the rules.”

“Okay, it’s okay.”

“It’s in the rules!” she insisted.

“Shh. Okay.” Remus looked around her stuff scattered on the table. “Where’s your hair bobble at? I’ll help you.”

Lily raised one of her arms, shaking it so her robe sleeve fell and revealed the black band around her wrist.

Remus took the band and slid it over her hand, then tried his best to gather Lily’s long hair at the back of her head. He had no idea how to do this.

“What is going on?” asked Snape, moving from his table across the aisle to the end of Lily’s. He looked at Remus, eyes full of loathing, then looked back to Lily with concern. “Lily, are you okay?”

“Yes!” Lily said. “I’m okay. Remus is just helping me. He’s really nice.”

Snape did not look convinced.

“He’s much nicer than you,” she continued matter-of-factly. “He’s never called me a mudblood.”

The blood drained from Snape’s face. “Lily…”

Remus fought a smile, tying Lily’s hair in a knot at the base of her neck. They were probably going to have to cut the band to get her out of it.

“Lily,” whispered Snape, looking around. “I’ve apologised for that. You know I didn’t mean it.”

“Apology rejected,” Lily said. She held a finger up at him, waving it back and forth. “Black told me what you say about mudbloods like me.”

“How the hell would Black know anything?” hissed Snape. “And you’re different, I’ve told you—”

“Snape,” warned Remus, staring him down. “Back off.”

Snape clenched his jaw angrily, ready to retort, but Remus walked towards him and the boy took a few quick steps back, bumping into the end of his own table. Remus just calmly went around Lily’s table, heading to his and Margot’s in the front.

“You’re late,” Margot stated, looking at him.

“There was an emergency,” he said. He started to unpack his books and parchment from the bag around his shoulder.

“Lily Evans is acting weird,” Margot said, turning to look at the girl in question. “Why were you pulling up her hair?”

“She’s, er, not feeling herself. She was having trouble.”

Margot looked up at him, raising her eyebrows a bit. “You did a terrible job.”

Remus laughed. “Yeah, I know.”

“Alright, class,” said Slughorn, finally emerging from the storage room with two giant jars, one in each arm. “Sorry for the delay.” He set them on his desk, then brushed his hands on his chest. “Let’s get started.”

Slughorn announced the plan for today’s class, explaining that they were going to be learning the proper technique for dissecting the eyes of carnivorous cows. They’d need one removed lens for the specific potion they were going to start on Friday, but both students at each table should dissect their own cow eye for practice. There were detailed instructions to follow in their textbook.

“Yes, Miss McKinnon?” Slughorn said.

“What?”

Remus winced, turning around to see Marlene blinking at Slughorn in confusion. Her hand was in the air.

“Did you have a question?” clarified Slughorn.

“Oh… Yes!” she said, nodding as she lowered her hand. “I seem to have forgotten my textbook.” She patted the surface in front of her, which was empty of any books, parchment, or quills. She frowned. “I seem to have forgotten everything, actually.”

“Well, that’ll be five points from Gryffindor for unpreparedness,” Slughorn said, unphased. “You’ll have to share with Miss Meadowes.”

“Bleh,” said Marlene, summarising her feelings about that.

Slughorn started to travel around the classroom, going to each student to pass out a metal pan and scoop an eye from one of the jars. He started at the table across the aisle from Remus and Margot’s, heading towards the back of that row.

“Psst, Remus. Remus!”

Remus turned around to look at Lily, who was leaning across her table. Pieces of her hair stuck out in arcs on her head, and her eyes were frantic as she very poorly whispered to him.

“Remus!”

“What?” he whispered back.

“Remus, I’ve never been high in Potions class before,” she said, picking desperately at her fingernails.

He shook his head at her, leaning closer. “Have you ever been high before?”

“No! Remus, I’ve never been high before! I’m so nervous!”

“Lily, you are talking so loud right now.”

“Sorry,” she squeaked, pressing a hand over her mouth.

Then the door slammed open.

James and Sirius were standing in the doorway of the classroom, beaming with pride. Remus smacked a palm to his forehead, then dragged his hand down his face, looking at his friends between his fingers.

“Boys,” Slughorn said. “You’re late.”

“Or are we early for next class?” Sirius said, pleased with himself.

“You’re late,” Slughorn repeated. “And neither of you are in your robes. Ten points from Gryffindor.”

“Ah, bollocks,” James said, looking down at his muggle hoodie and joggers like he just realised he was wearing them.

Slughorn gestured. “Please take your seats. Any more disruptions and that’ll be points off your dissection. Seek help from your table partners for today’s assignment.”

“Oh là là, Evans,” Sirius said, grimacing as he approached his table. “What happened to your hair?”

“Why? What’s wrong with it?” she said worriedly. “It wasn’t working before.”

“I think it looks good,” James told her, rapping his knuckles on their table as he passed. “Evans, you’re like a fire princess.”

“He’s lying,” whispered Sirius. “It looks bad.”

“You’re like a phoenix,” James continued. “But one that’s a human. You're like an angel with no wings.”

Lily frowned. "So like a person?"

“Prongs,” Sirius hissed. “You have a girlfriend.”

“Yeah, Ronnie!” James said excitedly, nodding. “Her eyes are like if emeralds were bright blue.”

“What are you two doing here?” Remus asked through gritted teeth. “Are you trying to kill me?”

James looked at him, eyebrows arched, his voice genuine. “No, Moony. We would never want to kill you.” He grabbed Remus’s arm and looked him in the eye. “We love you, you have to believe us.”

“Yeah, Moony,” agreed Sirius. “If we wanted to kill you, it’d be so easy. We sleep in the same room.”

James made a clawing gesture at his neck. “And Padfoot’s teeth could just rip your throat—”

“Stop!” Remus said, frantically waving his hand. He pointed James towards his table. “Go sit down! Please don’t say anything else. To anyone. Ever.”

Sirius started giggling, and Lily started giggling because Sirius started giggling, and Remus was sure that none of them were going to make it through this class.

“Great, you’re here,” Snape drawled, bowed over his cow eye as James shuffled to his place beside him. “Thought maybe your big head finally got stuck in one of the doorways.”

“You…” James said, and he took a second to look Snape over, “might be the meanest person in the whole world.”

“Potter,” scolded Remus. James had been doing really well ignoring all of Snape’s jabs until this moment.

“What?” James threw his hands out. “He is! He was mean to you, Moony, and you’re, like, as threatening as a… a…”

“Earthworm,” finished Sirius.

Snape scoffed. “I would say that there’s a much more obvious animal that Lupin compares to in threat.”

James whirled around to face him. “Don’t you remember when I punched you?”

“An earthworm,” Lily corrected.

Remus pressed his hands together, like in prayer. “James, James, just— Let’s calm down. Look at your cow eye, stay on task.”

“It’s disgusting,” James said, poking at the gooey pile with one of the tools. “Kinda looks like you, Snivellus.”

“Oh my god, what is that thing?” Marlene’s voice rang out, repulsed.

“It’s…your cow eye, Miss McKinnon,” Slughorn said, scooping a second eye onto the metal pan in front of Dorcas.

They still had two hours left of class. This was not good.

Lily and Sirius managed to keep it together while Slughorn gave them their pans and eyes, with only one incident of Sirius saying, “Thank you, my good sir!” 

Remus was so distracted worrying about the others that he was working at half the pace of Margot beside him. He kept turning around to check that they were still poking and slicing at their cow eyes without cutting their fingers off or threatening their table partners. He froze when he saw Marlene tap Dorcas’s arm with the end of her scalpel, but she was only trying to get her attention.

Which was not a better situation.

“Meadowes,” she said, jabbing her with the tool. “Meadowes, look at me.”

Dorcas huffed and spun towards her, looking so furious that Remus would have disintegrated if he were Marlene.

“Slytherin versus Ravenclaw,” Marlene said slowly, signing clumsily as she audibly drew out the words, her hands bobbing up and down a lot more than when Pandora or Regulus did it. “Two weeks. You are going to lose.”

“Tell her, McKinnon!” James said supportively. 

Remus watched tensely, waiting for Dorcas’s reaction, but Dorcas only looked disarmed. Her lips were parted as she watched Marlene sign, her hardened expression broken with shock.

Then Marlene went on, signing something else slowly, mouthing silent words as she concentrated. 

Dorcas’s jaw locked again, her dark eyes flashing. She picked up her little knife, and Remus really thought she was going to slice off Marlene’s face or something. But she just stabbed it through the middle of Marlene’s cow eye, destroying the lens she was supposed to remove.

“Bitch,” Marlene said. Remus was sure Dorcas could read that word. It was enunciated perfectly.

Dorcas pulled the knife free, wiped it clean on Marlene’s robe sleeve faster than Marlene could react, and went back to her dissection.

“Uh oh,” said Sirius, turning back around to smile at Remus. 

Remus was about to smile back at him, but then he saw Lily. She was extra focussed on her cow eye, staring at it closely and hovering over it with the scalpel. Her elbow rested on the table and she pressed her other hand to her forehead.

 “Lily?” Remus asked cautiously. “Is everything okay?”

“So ironic,” she mumbled.

“What is?”

“That my eye is having so much trouble seeing this eye.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “Why did no one say that the earth was going to spin so fast today? Shouldn’t they tell us things like that?” 

“Okay,” Remus said, deciding something. He drew his wand from his pocket, then subtly leaned around Sirius to point it at Marlene, casting a spell to cause hives to erupt on her hands, eventually spreading to the rest of her body. Then he did the same thing to James.

“Whatcha doin’, Moons?” Sirius asked. His cow eye was mostly untouched on the table in front of him.

“Don’t move,” Remus said, casting the hex on him, too. Then Lily. 

To finish, he pointed his wand at his own hand, and immediately felt a painful itch begin, as if barbed wire were wrapping around his hand and snaking up his arms. He put his wand away and raised his hand.

“Professor Slughorn?” he said.

Slughorn looked up from his desk. “Mr. Lupin?”

“I think I might have an allergy to the cow eye.”

“What do you mean?” said Slughorn, furrowing his eyebrows.

He held up his hands. “My skin is really itchy, and there’s this rash starting…”

James gasped. “Oh Merlin, I have the same disease!” he said. “I can’t lose my hands, I need them for quidditch!”

“An allergy is not a disease, you imbecile,” Snape said, scowling at him. “I hope your head falls off.”

“I need my head for quidditch, too!”

“Oh dear,” Slughorn said, taking Remus’s wrist and twisting it to observe the raised pink welts.

“Oh, it’s spreading!” Sirius said, looking at his hands in horror and trying to back up. “It’s on me!” He looked at Lily. “Ah, it got Evans, too!”

“I think there are ants all over me,” Marlene whined, shaking her arms. “Bad ones. With really sharp teeth. They’re eating me!”

“Alright, okay,” Slughorn said, laughing nervously. “If you’re experiencing some sort of reaction, why don’t you please head to the hospital wing to be treated.”

“Our cow eyes,” Lily said.

“We’ll just have you do an essay on the dissection process instead. We’ll make sure everyone has a lens for Friday.”

“Ants everywhere,” groaned Marlene.

“Alright, to the hospital wing! Let’s not panic!” Slughorn insisted, sounding panicked.

“I can make sure they get there, Professor,” Remus said, sliding his things from the table to his bag.

“Thank you, Mr. Lupin. Hurry, now.”

Remus gathered his friends, ushering them out the door, and heading in a stumbling, giggling crowd to the hospital wing. He had Lily’s hand in his, the girl completely spacing out, her eyes following things that Remus couldn’t see. 

“What’d you say to Meadowes?” Sirius asked Marlene. 

“Oh, um… I was trying to say that Slytherin was going to lose to Ravenclaw… And that they were both going to suck Gryffindor balls,” she said. “But I must’ve signed it wrong, because she got so mad at me.”

“I would bet that you got your point across just fine,” Remus said.

Madam Pomfrey opened the door when they got to the hospital wing.

“Mr. Lupin,” she said, smiling kindly, then her gaze travelled over the posse he had brought with him. “What…is going on?”

“We have a situation.”

Remus decided to tell the truth, but he didn’t specify who brought the biscuits, just said that a family member had sent them and his friends had eaten an unidentifiable amount. 

Each of his friends were put into their own hospital bed to monitor their vitals, better safe than sorry because no one knew how much marijuana they had ingested or if there were any other drugs—muggle or magical—laced in the cookies. Madam Pomfrey assured him that they all seemed fine, that they were just experiencing the dramatic effects of a lot of marijuana, and she gave them all a Sleeping Drought so they could sleep it off. She asked him to go fetch the other two.

Remus didn’t even have to go to the Gryffindor Tower, running into Peter and Mary on his way up, who were both sitting on one of the staircases.

“Moony,” Peter said. “Look.” He waved a napkin held in his hand, stuffed with a biscuits. “We went to the kitchen and the elves made us more biscuits.”

“We were starving,” Mary said, nodding and eating a biscuit of her own.

“Oh… Well, yeah,” Remus said. “Makes sense.”

He got them to follow him to the hospital wing, and, for the first time ever, he was the one sitting in a chair and waiting for them to be cleared for release. He worked on the essay he’d have to do for Slughorn now, and then he wrote three more for James, Sirius, and Marlene (Lily would want to write her own).

“Moony,” someone called from their bed. Sirius’s voice.

Remus got up from where he had been sitting inside Lily’s curtains, moving next door to answer Sirius.

“Hey, Padfoot,” he whispered.

“Moony,” Sirius said, sounding a bit loopy, smiling from where he was reclined against his pillows.

“What do you need?”

“Just wanted to see your beautiful face.”

Remus smiled back. “You’re still high.”

“High on you.”

“Case in point.”

“Hey, Moony?”

“Yeah?”

Sirius bit his lower lip, then released it with an exhale. “I like you a whole lot, you know?”

“I like you, too, Sirius,” he said softly.

A beat of silence.

“I wish it were real,” Sirius whispered, staring at Remus with piercing grey eyes.

Remus swallowed. “You wish what was real?”

“That you liked me.”

He laughed quietly. “I do like you, you idiot. I just said so.”

Sirius turned his head to look at the ceiling, sighing heavily. 

Remus watched him for a moment, his heartbeat thrumming in his ears, then said, “Get some rest, Padfoot.” He closed the curtains and added that conversation to the list of things that he was not allowed to think about. 

References: Grey's Anatomy, Barbie, The Office US. "You're like an angel with no wings." "So like a person." is from Season 2, Episode 17 of Parks & Recreation.

[pedroshotwifey]

Favorite Bounty chapter 6

Series masterlist

Pairing: Din Djarin x afab!reader

Word count: 6k

Chapter summary: Was it all just a misunderstanding? Is it too late to find out?

Chapter warnings: Violence ig lmao, angst?, Mando being a sappy bitch, mentions of smut, breeding kink?

A/N: Hey babes! I hate this, but I really hope you like it because it's all I've got! <3

***

Din can’t remember the last time he felt unsure of his actions. But as he watches the ship in front of your’s blow up, thanks to his missile, he starts to second guess everything he’s ever done that might have led up to this moment. Before he can understand what’s happening, bits and pieces are flying back, right into your junker ship. 

A wave of heat sends your ship back, taking side-paneling with it to expose vulnerable parts of your craft. Shrapnel begins to find a home in these spots, digging in and breaking it apart from the outside, likely jacking every system up within seconds. There’s a lot of damage about to be done, he knows that much as he eyes a larger piece headed for the front. Right where you are. 

He feels a weight in his chest sink down to his stomach, the unfamiliar feeling causing him to lurch into action. It hurts, he realizes. It hurts bad. The thought of truly losing you seems to reach inside his chest and squeeze his beating heart to a stop. Something inside him blisters, and every thought from his head that isn’t about you suddenly disappears, and every one that is, is suddenly enhanced. In a flash, he can see every second he’s spent with or around you since that day that your kind soul chose to risk your life to save his son’s. 

He remembers the first time he caught a glimpse of you, the way his breath was stolen from his lungs for the first time in his life as he found you on the floor, coddling his son like he was your own. Something had melted within him in that moment, his heart making room for you without consulting him first. 

The feeling had scared him, if he was being honest. 

So he got his shit together, and he snapped at you. Told you to get Grogu out of here, that he would find you later. You’d looked scared at first, but after he repeated himself, you were on your feet, immediately putting all your needs aside to help him. What kind of woman did that? 

He made sure to keep the nasty crooks he was dealing with at the time away from you and the kid. He was desperate to keep his son safe, but for some reason, adding you—a stranger, mind him—to the mix, doubled his concern. He didn’t understand why at the time. 

When he had the pirates down and tracked you to the alleyway you were taking coverage in, he couldn’t help but to admire you for a few seconds before revealing himself. The way your brows furrowed with worry, the way you held Grogu with such confidence and tenderness, the way you spoke softly to him even though you were scared out of your mind, it was this combination that almost brought him to his knees. 

The kindness and care that emanated from you then was enough to have millions falling in line behind him. You were a goddess, he was so sure of it. That was when he realized there was something wrong with him. He wasn’t supposed to feel this way, especially when he didn’t even know you. 

He had silently scolded himself and attempted to snap himself out of his trance, stepping out in front of you as you frantically looked behind you. Maybe a little too close in front of you, because the next step you took sent you straight into his chest.

Unfortunately, that did nothing to help his predicament. Your scent easily infiltrated his helmet, hypnotizing him in a way that was harder to just shake off. 

He had seen the way your body prepared to run again, so he reached out and grabbed your wrist to keep you with him. That was the first time he got a good look at you, when you looked up at him with those big doe eyes, full of fear that quickly turned to relief as you realized it was just him and not a threat. 

His stomach had flipped, which is the first time he could recall it doing so. 

He wanted to get to your level, ask if you were okay, but instead, he held his hand out like a dumbass. He also hadn’t realized that he was simply incapable of doing something like that. He’d asked—okay, demanded—for the kid, and you’d looked almost embarrassed as you reached to pass him over. 

And that’s when he heard the sounds of pirates gaining on him, and reached out to pull you to him before he could think about it. Your body felt way too good against his, even through the layers you both had on. He remembers one of the biggest threats in that specific moment was his own hardening cock working against him. 

You protested, and he slapped a hand over your mouth to silence you, giving you instructions to get to his ship. You listened to him then, and he knew he didn’t stand a chance after that. You ran off for the crest, and after a few grazes and a shot to the leg, he was off after you, throwing himself into the hull. 

He was losing blood from the injury on his leg, but he still managed to get the ship into the air and away from the immediate danger. It was only once he was out of the atmosphere that he let himself back down the ladder to find you sitting with a sleeping Grogu in your lap. 

He had hobbled over to a crate, digging out a medkit, and did his best to ignore his feelings—and the urge to pass out—as he tried to patch himself up. You, of course, saw his struggle, and had put Grogu up to come help him, even though he had not been necessarily kind to you. 

You looked so good sitting there between his legs, meticulously cleaning and bandaging his wound. He tried not to get caught in the features on your face, the different expressions that crossed it as you worked through the process. He had found himself wishing he could memorize each one of them individually. 

That night, the most he gave you was a ‘thank you’, and you were grateful anyway. He was barely able to remember all the details, but he remembered enough to be comfortable with you staying on the Crest. 

As the days went by, he had quickly, though reluctantly, come to realize that he deeply enjoyed your company. At first, when he noticed that he often found himself gravitating to wherever you were, he tried to ignore it, to play it off as coincidence that you always ended up in the same place as him. For some strange reason, each time he had the urge to go into the hull to look for something in storage—usually something that wasn’t really necessary at the moment—you were already there. Everytime he took a trip to the kitchenette for a ration packet—even though he was well aware that he wasn’t hungry—you were sat at the little table, already eating a pack yourself or feeding little spoonfuls to the kid. 

Eventually, he caught himself. It had only been a few weeks at that point since you had joined him and Grogu on the crest, but he could already feel the urge to protect you, to claim you as his own, to have you in his sights at all times. When he came to terms with that fact, he made up even more excuses to cover it up. It was instinct. He had just gone too long without human interaction, he was just naturally protective, the list went on. He did pride himself for a little while, for the way he was able to hold back from you, though it was a harder task than he would like to have admitted. 

Not only did he have the urge to keep you safe, he also had a nagging want to bend you over a crate and fuck you into oblivion everytime you passed by him in the hull. Fortunately, he had a sound enough mind to refrain from doing that, but he couldn't help but to place his palm on the small of your back each time, gently urging you past him. Unfortunately, just that action was enough to have him stiff in his pants, suddenly in dire need of solitude so he could find his quick release instead of holding one of his hands in front of his crotch for the next hour. 

Every now and again, he would get bold and tease you the slightest bit. Just to see if you would do something about it. Slip comments that could pass as flirty. Watch you for a little longer than what was normal because he knew you would tell after a minute. Sit in his Pilot’s chair with his legs spread and his half-hard bulge on display. Okay, that one definitely had you flustered. 

So yes, other than that minor detail, he did good at first, kept his distance, made it seem like he didn’t want to talk to you, didn’t want to even look your way. He did feel bad about it for a while, and had to convince himself that pushing you away was for your benefit as well as his. If he backed off and showed no interest, maybe you would back off too and he wouldn't have to spend his time avoiding you. 

No such luck.

If anything, the stoic persona he adapted for you only pulled you in. When he ignored one of your questions, you would ask two more. Every time you told him that you were going to do something, he would nod, giving you the smallest form of acknowledgement he could think of, but it never stopped you from doing it. 

You were the kindest, gentlest person he had ever met. You stayed with him and Grogu, going with him to different parts of the galaxy to watch the kid while he brought in bounties. You never asked for anything, and you never asked to leave. 

He remembers the first time he let himself show you affection. How could he not have? You probably saved his life. Again. 

He had landed you on a frigid planet to track down a bounty, and that had been his first mistake. He knows his armor is enough for most conditions, but apparently not for temperatures below freezing for a long amount of time. 

By the time he was hauling the crook he had hunted down with him back to the crest, he couldn’t feel his fingers or toes. Every part of him had ached, and he felt on the verge of passing out. Even through all this though, he hadn’t failed to spot the snowman out in the clearing that only could have been your doing. The top was shaped like a Mandalorian helmet instead of a ball, and he had smiled despite himself, and despite the way his lips cracked painfully as he did so. 

He took the bounty into the crest, shoved him into a carbonite chamber, and that was the last thing he remembered before he lost consciousness. He had woken up to your worried face hovering over him, your fingers pressed to the pulse point on his throat. 

He didn’t even have the energy to react, or maybe it was just that your presence put him at ease. Either way, he did nothing more than lay there and gasp, trying to suck in the air he had lost in his unconscious state. 

His first thought was that it was warmer. 

You had taken care of him, warmed him up. And you started rambling about how scared you were to lose him, and how you were worried that he would be mad because you turned the heat on even though he wanted to conserve energy. 

He was too stunned by you to really pay attention to much else than the way your lips wrapped around each word as it spilled from your mouth. He wiped a tear as it fell from your cheek, and he could see the shift within you as he did so. 

That was the first night he allowed himself to hold you. He blamed it then on being too physically and mentally exhausted to think properly. And in his defense, he doesn’t remember much else from then purely because of that fact. But he does remember the way he felt at home for the first time in much too long. 

He was gentle that next morning when he woke up with you still atop him. He knew you were awake, but he played into your game anyway. He had this urge to give you whatever he could to make you smile. He wanted to thank you, to make sure you knew he could never really be mad at you for anything. 

But then came the crash from the front of the ship. He knew immediately that it was pirates. All at once, he felt the softness he was showing toward you, and the vulnerability that came with it. And that scared the hell out of him. 

He hopped up and instructed you to stay with Grogu in his bunk. You did, of course. You got yourself situated and he was just about to open the gangplank, when the crooks got to it first. Before he could think about what he was doing, he had whipped around and shot the control panel to the bunk, concealing you and the kid. He had almost the entire group down when he heard the bunk screech back open. 

He took the last one out by smashing his head between his own helmet and the paneling of the Razor Crest. When he bolted back into the crest, he found you balled up, protecting the kid with your entire body, as a pirate reached for you. 

He had the creature dead on the ground before he understood what happened. When he looked back up at you, there were tears in your pretty eyes. The sight made his stomach twist into a nasty knot. He had you in his arms, the child rested between you, within seconds. 

He wanted to hold on to you forever, but he knew that wasn’t an option. He needed to get this mess cleaned up so you didn’t have to look at it. You shouldn’t have to look at ugly things. He helped you down from the bunk, watching that you could stand on your own feet without assistance. 

He nudged the body at your feed to the side so you wouldn’t trip, and something fell out of the pirate’s pocket as he did so. His chest clenched as he recognized the item. A bounty puck. But what made his blood run cold was the sight of your face on it. He pulled his hand back from you in shock, and bent down, scooping up the crook, and the bounty puck, before you could see it. 

A panic started to settle in his brain. Should he tell you? How many people were after you? How was he going to keep you safe? 

He barely heard you telling him that you were putting the kid back down through the frantic thoughts running through his head. He remembers nodding, too stunned to do much more than that. It was his fault. He didn’t keep you safe. He put you in harm's way. 

This was exactly why he shouldn't get close to you, or let you get close to him. 

He’d busied himself with cleaning everything up and disposing of the bodies while you were in the fresher, and then went to let you know that he would be going out to find some fuel. Your tone was clipped with annoyance when you spoke back to him, and he felt a twinge of hurt despite himself. 

He tried so hard not to let you have an effect on him, but you always did. 

He’d stood outside the fresher door, debating what to say. Should he apologize? He wanted to. Badly. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. So he told you he would be back soon, and he left. 

That was the same day he came home to find you with your hands shoved in your panties, moaning his name as you worked at your cunt, and he thought he was dreaming. Surely he had been ambushed and knocked out on his way to town. 

There was just no way that a sweet, gentle thing like you could find him attractive in any sort of way. Especially with the way he acted toward you earlier. He was quiet and brooding, yet you must have sensed the humanity in him even through your frustration. 

He had stood there shocked as he watched you get yourself closer and closer to the edge, trying to talk himself out of what he knew he wanted to do. And just as you were about to come, he made his presence known. Din is not a weak man, but he was in that moment. 

He watched the horror and embarrassment on your face as you realized you had been caught just as you came on your hand. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, the flush of your face and the glow of your skin. He’s still surprised he didn’t come in his pants at the sight.

You’d let him have you that night. He still doesn’t understand why, but he’ll never fucking forget the way it felt. He was able to use his hands to bring you pleasure, and then you thanked him by doing the same for him with your gorgeous mouth. That same mouth that talked so sweetly to Grogu, that let little jokes slip, that distracted the kriff out of him on the daily. 

Even after all that, you’d fallen asleep with him again. You’d passed out fairly quickly, but he’d stayed awake a little longer just to savor the feeling of your body in his arms. It gave him time to really think about what he’d just done. The things he just changed. It gave him enough time to realize how stupid he was for giving in. 

Which is why, the next morning, he got up and left the bunk before you woke up. It wasn’t a few minutes later that he heard you trying to pry the broken bunk door back open, which had frozen itself shut. He waited a moment to see if you could get it up yourself, but eventually took pity on you and lifted it himself. 

As badly as he wanted to, he’d said nothing to you. Just stepped to the side so that you could get down. It made his stomach ball up in a way that he’d never felt before, but he couldn’t break the promise he made to himself the night before. That he couldn’t let himself get close to you, that he needed to continue being cold, because that’s just who he is. Right?

You were determined up to that point, he’ll give you that, you’d never seemed to let him bother you before. So when he saw the look on your face when you came face to face with him and realized that he’d be continuing his facade, he could have sworn that he could hear his heart crack. It took everything in his power to not gather you into his arms and console you, tell you that you did nothing wrong, that everything was okay between you. He realized then that he had gone too far, that it wasn’t fair to keep switching up with you. But he couldn’t stop now. 

He hated himself in that moment. Hated himself for being the one to make you feel pain when he wanted to be the one to protect you. But that was exactly the problem, he couldn't have you and keep you safe. If anyone ever found out that he had feelings for you, and hurt you to get to him, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself.

He’d walked away then, even though he wanted to stay. It was selfish and even in that moment he knew it was the wrong option, but he couldn’t stay. You found him up in the cockpit a little later, clearly upset. But instead of trying to help you, he informed you that he would have to go out in search for fuel again. It was hell pretending like nothing happened, but he genuinely thought it was for the best. He knows now that he was a damn fool. 

As he crunched through the thick layers of snow a few hours later, he tried to rid you from his thoughts. He needed to focus on the task at hand and he knew he would have plenty of time to kick his own ass later. He needed to get off that planet within the day, because with the fob he found on the pirate by his bunk yesterday, there’s no way he could afford to keep you in one spot any longer than that. He had no doubt in his mind that he was the reason you’re in danger. He needed to get you back to Nevarro so he could fix the mess he’d stumbled upon. He didn’t want you to be stuck as a bounty for any longer than absolutely necessary. 

Luckily, he was able to find fuel and was on his way back to the Crest before he knew it. He commed you to have you open the hatch once he was close, and you thankfully complied. As the ship came into view, so did the lump of snow that you’d built a snowman out of. He didn’t like the ache that made its way into his chest just then. He did his best to ignore it as he approached the ship. 

He had found it odd that you had left one of the knots up on the ramp but he brushed it off as he stepped into the Crest. You had probably just forgotten, it was a little late, later than you usually stay up, so you were likely tired and probably went to bed after he hung up the call. After he closed the ramp he called your name anyway, and when you didn’t answer either time, he figured his assumption was right, and that you had fallen asleep. So when he found you awake and scrambling around in his bunk, he was confused to say the least. 

You had looked panicked and had knocked right into him before he even had the chance to move out of your way. You hadn’t even given him a chance to ask what you had been doing before you started explaining yourself, well, trying to anyway. Something about Grogu’s ball and looking for hours. Din knew you were lying, he can usually tell when someone is lying, and you might just be the worst liar he had ever met. 

Even if you had sounded even the tiniest bit convincing, he would have found out sooner than later because when he climbed up into the cockpit after finally refueling, the ball you had been talking about was right where it was supposed to be—screwed into a control on the dash. It felt like a twist in his gut to know that you don’t trust him enough to tell him the truth about what you were doing, but he didn’t want to push it any further, so he let it go. What really got to him, though, was the way you had almost looked scared of him when he found you.

It shocked him to the core, and he had stood there like an idiot, stuck in place with guilt. Sure, he had been a little cold to you, but he thought for sure that you knew he would never even think of hurting you. He can’t imagine ever wanting to lay a harmful finger on you, he would gladly sacrifice himself before he let that happen. You are so good. A genuinely kind person, and he is…not. 

He has taken so many lives, put so many more on the line, and you have done nothing but spread kindness. He is nobody and he knows that he would worship at your altar should he ever get the chance. Never in his life had he met someone who had made him feel the way you do, made him think the things he does. He knows he should have said something, made sure you know the truth, but he didn’t know where to start. Would you have listened to him if he did? It doesn’t matter now, because—like an idiot—he’d just accepted the fact that he must have messed things up more than he initially thought. 

He’d forced himself to shake it off before he took one more peek into the hull to make sure you were asleep so he could set the course for Nevarro. As soon as the Crest made its way out of the atmosphere, he locked the door to the cockpit and released the pressure on his helmet, taking it off and setting it down in the left of the two seats behind him. 

His head immediately felt clearer. He hadn’t taken it off since before he last left the Crest, and though he has a built in purifier, he can’t help but feel like the air gets a little stale after so long with it on. After he took a few minutes to calm down and enjoy the fresh air, he looked down to the navigation system which told him it would take about three days to reach Nevarro. He remembers wishing it could be sooner, but he was willing to take what he could get. He knows that as soon as he’d land, his plan would consist of going right to Karga to demand he take you off of the bounty list. His main goal was just to keep you safe until he can make that happen, well aware that it was his fault that you were on there in the first place. 

He figured it out pretty quick, the reason for your wanted status. Someone had seen you helping Din and the kid on your home planet, and had gotten into contact with the empire, offering your name for a reward. He knows that you didn’t do anything before he had picked you up, you’re too good, too pure to cause anyone any kind of harm. He may not have known you well, but he knew you well enough for that to be obvious. There's no way he would have left you alone with Grogu for even a second if he thought otherwise. 

It definitely helped that you were so good with the kid, taking care of him as if he were your own. Watching you play with or feed Grogu did something to Din, as much as he hated to admit it. The first time he saw you caring for the child, the domestic sight awakened something in him that he had no idea even existed. 

He recalled then watching you, settled in the doorway behind you as you played with the kid. Much to his chagrin, the picture had quickly morphed into you and Grogu surrounded by other small children. All of them were a mixture of you and him, some with his eyes, some with your hair. He’d imagined your belly full and round with his child and thought that you somehow looked even more beautiful. 

He saw himself standing behind you, his bare hands on your shoulders, not a scrap of armor on as he watched you feed giggling children spoonfuls of broth. He had given your shoulders a small squeeze and you looked up, gazing lovingly into his naked eyes before he dipped down and slotted your lips together. He had snapped himself out of that fantasy almost as quick as he had thought it up, but that night, he masturbated to the thought of taking you to bed and fucking you full of his cum over and over until it took. 

Din felt an unfamiliar lump in his throat as he had forced himself yet again to stop thinking about you. He only left his helmet off long enough to scarf down a ration pack before putting it back on and making sure the ship is on autopilot. When he stood up, planning to make a much needed trip to the ‘fresher, he felt a weight settle in his gut. It was heavy and it felt a whole lot like guilt. He still couldn’t seem to get past the hurt and hint of fear in your eyes when you looked up at him after he caught you in his bunk. 

It’d only been an hour and it was already haunting him.  He wasn’t able to take it. He’d stalked back down the ladder with intentions of apologizing. He’d needed to tell you the truth. Maybe then you would’ve been able to trust him again.

When he spotted you, you were asleep in your cot, and his shoulders sagged a bit. He walked your way anyway, just to check if you are really asleep. He didn’t want to wake you if you were. Halfway to you, he saw you flip over as if he had startled you. He’d stopped in place and watched as you sat up and quickly looked him up and down. When your eyes fell back to his helm, he forgot how to speak. 

You looked like you hadn’t slept at all, and your eyes were red and puffy like you had been crying. He felt his heart squeeze at the distraught look in your eyes. His first reaction is to sweep in and take you into his arms, to hold you and wipe your tears from your cheeks. He wanted so badly to comfort you and tell you that everything would be okay, that he would make it okay, but when he took another step in your direction, you flinched away. 

Din won’t ever forget how his heart dropped to his stomach, knowing you really were scared of him. The reality of it hit him like a ton of bricks. You didn’t want him. He didn’t understand, you seemed so interested before he had left to find more fuel. He knew that it had deterred you when he left you in his cot alone the morning after you gave into each other, but he didn’t do anything that might have changed your mind in that sense. Unless maybe he had been too rough... Had he hurt you in some way? 

He wanted to say something, but he, again, didn’t know what. Would you even have wanted him to say anything? He should’ve at least asked you if he had done something wrong—other than the obvious which he knew he should apologize for—but the words become stuck in his throat. He only stood there for another minute before he decided to leave you alone. Maybe you just needed some time? Not likely. He fucked up, he ruined it all, and he deserved whatever you wished of him in that moment. He had settled on nodding in your direction and had headed for the fresher, ignoring the pain spreading internally. 

He didn’t talk to you again until three days later when he landed on Nevarro. He was a mess at that point—sleep deprived, depressed, dehydrated, and hungry. You were already hitting him hard and he’d still had you at that point. He hadn’t failed to notice, however, that you almost looked worse than he felt. Like you hadn’t slept at all. 

You had started to get jumpy around him, easily frightened at every little sound or jolt of the ship. You avoided him more than ever and “slept” more than ever. It seemed like you wanted off of the Crest, but he knew you wouldn’t be able to have your freedom with a bounty on your head. He needed to get to Karga and fast. 

He had a plan to get back to you and come clean about everything, and then after, if you still wanted to leave, he would let you. Just the thought about killed him, but he would rather you be happy and content somewhere else in the galaxy than miserable with him. 

So he gathered his pucks, made sure you would stay on the Crest, and set off to meet Karga. He met him in the usual cantina and took a seat after handing Grogu off to the man across from him. He was able to get to the point fairly quickly, successfully avoiding the usual small talk by presenting your puck. 

He wasted no time in explaining the situation, though he obviously kept out the more…intimate details. It took some convincing for him to get Karga to believe that you were really innocent, but he eventually gave in. He knew better than to think Mando would lie to him. 

The deal was that he would go back to the ship to grab you, and then he would bring you back to “turn you in”. Once he did that, he would refuse the money he would have gotten from your price, and Karga would be able to erase your record from the registry. It seemed like it would work.

Well, it seemed like it would have worked if you had been there to retrieve, at least. It wasn’t until he got back to an empty ship that he realized he was a blinded idiot. The panic that he had felt in that moment was immeasurable. He thought for sure that you had been taken, but after reviewing some camera footage from outside the Crest, it was easy to rule that out. 

You’d been able to evade him for weeks—which he honestly wasn’t too surprised about. You were fucking smart, after all.

But he never could have thought he would be in the situation he’s in now. Your life is in immediate danger, and there’s nothing he can do about it. He now watches helplessly as the large chunk of ship in front of you pummels your way. He doesn’t even think about it before he’s moving your way. 

He catches a glimpse of your body, unconscious and floating due to the broken air seal around your ship. You’re beat up and your clothes are almost rags. He feels an unfamiliar wetness run down his cheek just as he reaches you. There’s probably only a few seconds before the fuel tank ruptures in the spice runner’s ship and you’re both dead. That is, if the debris doesn’t reach you first.  

His ship is pretty banged up, and even as he uses it to block your ship from danger, he knows it won’t survive the impact. He’s right, of course, he realizes as soon as the ships collide. He’s knocked from his seat as the front of his ship is absolutely demolished. He’s at a loss as for what to do, but he doesn’t regret trying to save you for just a few more seconds. 

Everything is so bright and loud. The explosions coming from all three crafts, the alarms blaring from detected damage and breach. Din feels a crushing amount of fear and weakness, which is something he never thought he would experience in his adult years. It feels like he’s that little boy again, hiding alone and helpless in a cellar as his parents are killed above him. He wants nothing more than to give up, but he can’t. Even if he wanted to, he can’t.

Just then, he spots an opening in the side of your craft, and he knows what he has to do. With all of this strength, he opens his gangplank, jumps from his ship, and propels toward the makeshift entrance of yours, determined to get to you before the lack of air in space takes you from him forever.

He works quickly, though with shaky hands. One second to send a distress signal to Nevarro, another to release the seal on his helmet, then one more to finally grab you and pull you to him. 

Whatever happens, you’re making it out of this.

***

Thank you for reading!! Taglist is open!

Series taglist: @oscarissac2099 @millercontracting @m0unta1n @1dk-tbh @anoverwhelmingdin

[im-ovulating]

Chapter 1

(A?n: To those who've been waiting: sorry, it took 7 months, I'm just a really bad procrastinator lmao)

Entangled Masterlist

Word Count: 795

Taglist: @ekkoismyhusband @itsalicewickedmcgee @sasa-slayer @thewifeoflevi @lukerycyja @only-my-unexistent-fiances @full-cowlings

Keigo Takami x Reader: Rapunzel AU

-------------------

His eyes scanned the room, keeping a lookout for the guards.

They had one shot at this and if they failed they would either be imprisoned for life or be put to death. There was too much at stake for failure.

Touya and Shigaraki were setting up the rope for his drop. The guards were stationed in a large circle around their prize. They would be expecting thieves to come through the doors or one of the many secret pathways, not an ariel attack.

The crown sat in the center of the room on a pedestal. Red cushion fluffed and kept free of dust all these years. You'd honestly think they'd give up. It's been almost 18 years for god's sake, chances of the lost princess returning are slim to none.

It doesn't matter, though, not when he's so close to a life of riches and ease. He just has to make sure he finds the perfect opportunity to drop his colleagues and take off with the headpiece.

Touya sends him a curt nod. It's time. Keigo fastens the rope to his harness and starts to shimmy down through the large, open ceiling.

'How daft can these people be? Making it this easy to steal their precious tiara...' He can't help but shake his head at how unassuming the people ruling his kingdom are.

Quick and silent as a mouse, Keigo is ground level and pocketing the crown. Just as he starts to climb back up, one of the guards sneezes and he can't help but let out a snide little "Bless you" before signaling the other two to pull him up.

"Thanks," the guard sneaks a look back to acknowledge him before realizing what happened.

They're packed up and running across the castle roofs before the alarm can properly start blaring through the streets. Making their way to the farthest wall they could, they slide down the rafters and make their way into the forest.

He can hear the yelling of the Kingsmen and the thundering steps of their steeds as they chase after them, desperate to get the tiara back.

Passing by a tree, he has to stop and do a double take. There's wanted posters with a caricature of their faces, though his in particular is quite insulting.

"Excuse me!? I do NOT look like that!" he squawks. He holds the Wanted poster next to his head as he desperately looks to his companions, hoping they disagree with it.

Touya and Shigaraki share a look before grabbing him by either arm and dragging him along.

"Fine! I'm coming!" He shoves the paper in his bag as he runs.

As they continue to run, dodging arrows and sword swipes, they reach a dead end,

"C'mon guys, boost me up and I'll pull you up after me." Keigo pants.

"Sure," Touya says. "Hand over the bag first."

I- What!? You guys don't trust me?" The two stare at him unimpressed. "Wow... I'm hurt, truly."

He slips the bag over his head and passes it to Shigaraki.

Touya and him link hands to boost Keigo up and over the edge. Once up, Keigo steadies himself and turns to reach down a hand.

Just before Touya can grab it, he pulls it back.

"What the hell, Takami? Help us up!"

"Nah," he grins. He turns to leave only to be stopped by Shigaraki yelling.

"You're really gonna leave the crown?"

"Oh, You see..." He holds up the leather satchel, "I'm not leaving it; good luck boys!"

With that, Keigo disappears into the thicket just as the others are cornered by the soldiers.

He rushes through the trees and bushes a bit longer before he's intercepted by an unmanned horse. He can faintly hear the faint yelling of the name "Bakugou" which he can only assume is the horse's name.

It advances on him like a rabid dog, chasing him through the forest until he finally manages to give it the slip by hiding behind the vines of a cave.

When he hears the horse pass, he lets out a sigh. He turns to venture deeper into the cave, only to find that it's not a true cave. The back lets out to a large clearing with a waterfall and a tower in the center.

Thankfully, he saved a couple of the arrows he avoided. Using them as climbing hooks, he scales the tower.

Finally falling through the, luckily, open window, Keigo slumps against the wall. He pulls the satchel back out and opens it to peak at his prize.

"Alone at last-"

Before he can revile in his success at escaping the swordsmen and outfoxing his fellow thieves, there's a sharp -thwack- and a stinging pain that rings through his skull as his vision goes black.

[training4theapocalypse]

Finders Keepers Ch 5. (Cormac McLaggen x fem!reader)

Rating: Explicit 18+

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: SMUT!!!!!!!!! Kissing, Dry humping, Sucking on my titties like you wanted me calling me all the time like Blondie check out my Chrissy behind it's fine all of the time.

Summary: It's the night of Slughorn's party and you're ready to make McLaggen jealous.

A/N: I said I wasn't gonna post til Sunday but I am too impulsive!!! Here is some recommended listening: Escapism by RAYE and Daylight by David Kushner (thank you anon for the latter recommendation). P.S. You can tell I'm not actually a Ravenclaw because my door riddle was SHIT lmao.

Masterlist

Tag list: @countlambula

Chapter 5: Firewhisky

Two weeks later, you sit on the same spot on the edge of Marietta’s bed, this time lacing up your strappy stilettos. You point your wand at your feet. ‘Molliare’ you think, silently casting a cushioning charm so you can walk with ease in your heels.

Cho and Marietta join you as you walk over to the mirror, they stand behind you like proud parents.

“Stunning,” says Cho looking at you in the mirror.

“Yes, well, enough about the dress,” says Marietta, admiring her alterations. “Zacharias is going to feel like he’s won the Daily Prophet Grand Prize Draw when he sees you.”

Ugh, you almost forgot about Smith. 

You admire yourself in the mirror and you have to admit- this is probably the best you’ve ever looked. Thanks to Marietta, your form-fitting cobalt blue dress seems to glow ethereally in the candlelight. She’s given you a high leg split and its generously low-cut bodice accentuates every curve of your body.

“Okay, toss your head forward and mess up your hair a wee bit,” says Cho. You flip your head down and back up and push your tousled hair behind your ear. “Perfect - it looks like you’ve just finished a very steamy snogging session.”

“Fuck, I’m nervous.” You reach out and hold both of their hands. “I wish you were coming.”

“Okay, Captain,” says Cho, imitating your most authoritative dressing-room voice. “What’s the game plan? Let’s go over positions.” Strangely, it helps your nerves.

“Meet Smith downstairs and arrive late. Don’t even look at McLaggen. Impress Gwenog. Still don’t look at McLaggen. Have a few drinks and hit the buffet-”

“Have one drink. No bread or you’ll burst out of that dress,” warns Marietta.

“One drink to stay reasonably sober,” you repeat, ignoring the last part. “Wait for McLaggen to approach me. Brush him off casually. Leave conspicuously and in an extra giggly fashion with Zacharias Smith then report back to you two in the common room.”

“Well remembered.”

“Shouldn’t I just snog Smith in front of him?”

“No!” says Marietta. 

“It’ll be way worse in his head if he doesn’t see you. Leave it to his imagination,” nods Cho knowledgeably.

God, dealing with boys was such hard work. You look at your two friends sincerely- they’re extremely skilled in this particular art of war. 

“Thank you- both of you. This was insanely hard work, I mean, this dress, Marietta…” You check yourself out in the mirror again. “It’s beautiful, really. I’m sorry if I’ve ever been sort of disparaging towards this stuff before. As if it’s any less worthwhile than Quidditch or school. It’s just… I’m not used to being bad at things.”

They understand. You don’t need to say any more as the three of you embrace in the middle of the dorm room.

“Right,” says Cho, wiping her eyes. “You’d better go before Zacharias thinks you’ve stood him up.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Slughorn’s office looks like a beautifully decadent circus tent. The walls are draped with emerald, crimson and gold hangings, contrasting with the striking blue of your dress.

You walk in, arm-in-arm with Smith who looks incredibly pleased with himself. When you met him earlier on the marble staircase he actually did a double take before saying your name questioningly, as if he didn’t believe it was you.

“Fuck off, Smith, I don’t look that different.”

“Ladylike as ever, I suppose,” he scoffed and you rolled your eyes.

But now as you walk in, you keep your head high and smile at other students you recognise, as if you’re delighted to be here with Smith. Murmurs ripple through the crowd, as the two of you pass through- you hope it’s your dress that’s causing a commotion but you resign yourself to the fact that your classmates are probably just surprised to see you here with a boy.

Tactics, remember tactics. 

“Let’s get a drink,” you whisper, marching him towards a tower of champagne flutes. You grab one and drain it quickly, using the opportunity to discreetly scan the room for McLaggen. 

He’s across the room, determinedly talking to Hermione. You have a satisfied feeling that he’s trying not to look at you.

You dump your empty glass, grab another for courage, and link Smith’s arm again, steering him to try and find Slughorn but you don’t need to go far before you hear a booming voice calling your name.

“Professor Slughorn! Thank you for inviting me,” you respond graciously, pretending you aren’t starstruck by his companion, Gwenog Jones. “This is Zacharias, he’s captain of the Hufflepuff Quidditch Team.”

“Oh! I thought- ” says Slughorn looking from you to Smith and then off into the room behind you. “Ah, never mind. I’m an old man, who knows less and less about young love these days.” Slughorn chuckles and Smith gives you a questioning look which you ignore. “Anyway, allow me to introduce Miss Gwenog Jones, Captain of the Holyhead Harpies. Gwenog, this is the Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain, I mentioned earlier.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you say, shoving your drink into Smith’s hand and clasping hers when she reaches out to give you a handshake. “I’m a huge fan.”

“Old Sluggy’s been telling me all about you,” she says. 

“All good things, I hope?” You ask playfully of Slughorn who guffaws.

“Of course, of course!”

“I don’t suppose he mentioned our recent landslide victory against Slytherin?” You give her a winning smile, desperate to make a positive impression.

“He did… But I’m more interested in what he told me about your training.”

“My- my training?” you stumble - slightly surprised that Professor Slughorn knows anything about your training.

“I’ve told Miss Jones here all about you spending every evening on the pitch. I can see it from that window, you know.” He gestures to the window in the corner, obscured by the curtains. “You and McLaggen, practising for hours and hours and right in the middle of your N.E.W.Ts too… Oh, look, there he is!” Slughorn looks over your shoulder again and calls his name. “Not that you’d be interested in McLaggen for your all-female team, Gwen,” he chuckles. Slughorn spills a little champagne when he spots Harry Potter and practically runs over to join him, abandoning your group.

You bristle as McLaggen replaces Slughorn’s vacant space beside you. He shakes hands with Gwenog who, you remind yourself, he’s acquainted with already.

“As I was saying, Slughorn told me all about your win against Slytherin and while it piqued my interest, it was your work ethic that really got my attention. And he says you’re a keeper too?”

“A world-class one,” says McLaggen. “I’m surprised she hasn’t been snapped up by a professional team already.”

You blink at him in surprise. It’s very considerate of him to compliment you like that in front of Gwenog, even though you’re not speaking.

“And it’s you two who’ve been practising together every night?” she asks, noticing the look you give to McLaggen. “I mean, you’ve actually been training? Slughorn hasn’t been seeing you head off to the Quidditch pitch so you can snog privately or anything, has he?” She lets out a laugh like a bark.

“No! God, no,” you say quickly, and go to squeeze Smith’s arm but he’s already disappeared without you even noticing. 

“Absolutely not,” confirms McLaggen.

“Good,” she smiles. “Well, you’re not the usual build for a keeper, I must say. They usually look more like him - ha!” She nods at McLaggen. “But if you’re as good as he and Slughorn say you are, it sounds like I’d be stupid not to let you try out during the transfer window this summer.”

“That… that would be incredible. Thank you.” 

She bids you and McLaggen farewell and goes to mingle with the other guests. If you hadn’t fallen out with McLaggen, you’d grab him and jump up and down screaming for joy. Instead, you stand awkwardly, trying not to look at him.

Game plan, a small voice in your head reminds you but the champagne has loosened your sharp tongue.

“Well, you better not keep your girlfriend waiting,” you say, looking for Smith.

“Who told you that Hermione’s my girlfriend?”

“Hermione told Lavender who told Parvati who told Padma who told Cho who told me,” you rhyme off, trying to sound casual. 

“I thought you didn’t like gossip.” 

You shrug. “I just hear things.”

“Look, I know you don’t like her after what she did to Marietta-”

“Oh, is that what she said?”

“No, it’s what I know. I was in the D.A. with them too. You’re not the only one who hears things.”

Finally bringing yourself to look at him properly, you’re extremely annoyed to see that he looks incredibly handsome in his black shirt and dress robes. 

“So, have you snogged her?” You blurt before you can stop yourself.

“What?!”

“Have you snogged her?” you repeat slowly and clearly, knowing full well he heard you the first time.

“I’ll go and snog her right now if you’re so concerned.”

“Go ahead. It should be easy, right? If she’s your girlfriend and not just here to make Ron Weasley jealous. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to find my date.”

He watches dumbfounded as you walk across the room to grab Smith aggressively and lead him by the hand out of the room. When you reach the corridor, you turn around and see that Smith looks like he can’t believe his luck.

“Oh,” you say, trying to think of a lie when you realise you really, definitely don’t want to snog him. “Sorry- I just wanted a bit of air. It’s so hot in there and my armpits are like, really sweaty.” You make up wildly.

Smith pulls a disgusted face and turns to go back in. “Wait!” you grab his arm and spin him back around. “Let me fix your hair.” You run your hand through it, messing it up slightly. “There, much better.”

He stares at you, stunned. “You are so weird.” He returns to the party and you groan, leaning against the indented archway in the wall and knocking your head back against it a few times in frustration. When you hear the click of high-heeled footsteps coming towards you, you flatten yourself inside the little cove so you’re not spotted alone. 

Hermione Granger whips past you without so much as a backwards look. You watch her as she walks as fast as she can in the direction of Gryffindor Tower. She’s ditched McLaggen, you realise. You thought you’d feel ready to gloat but instead you just feel… empty. Until recently he was your friend after all.

Returning to the party, you’re not sure what to do with yourself. The game plan has gone out the window.

You want to do everything you can to avoid Zacharias Smith, and you really don’t want to be paraded in front of a vampire by Slughorn like Potter is right now. The only person you actually want to talk to is Cormac McLaggen but lately, all you’ve been able to do is argue, that is when you’re not sitting in sullen silence during Potions. 

You decide you’d better mix with some other students. You spend some time chatting with Dean Thomas and Ginny Weasley who you recognise from the Gryffindor Quidditch team. They congratulate you on your win against Slytherin, and you return the compliment but only out of obligation as both victories make your teams the closest rivals on the table, competing for the top spot. You excuse yourself and cross the room to get another drink but Professor Snape halts you in your tracks. 

“Detention,” he says simply. 

“Sir, I-”

“The first Saturday after the holidays. And I expect you to be more suitably dressed for the occasion.”

You open your mouth to argue but think better of it. Any argument with Snape is likely to extend your detention to a week or even a month. More murmuring cascades around the room as he gestures to the door. It’s probably for the best, you think, that you leave before you drink any more. You got what you came for - an invite to the Holyhead Harpies tryouts. But you wish you’d just…

What do you wish?

That you’d made McLaggen jealous in the process? Or even just made up with him? Gone back to being friends. But could you ever swallow your pride and settle for being just friends? Surely that had to be better than whatever this feeling was right now.

Out of the hot room, the cool air hits you dizzyingly as you walk quickly along the corridor to the entrance hall. You see McLaggen ahead of you, near the front doors, in almost the exact same spot where you had your argument two weeks ago. 

Maybe being friends would be enough.

When he hears your footsteps he turns and groans “Oh, no. Not you.”

You catch up with him. “Always so disappointed to see me, McLaggen.”

“I’ve been chucked out. Snape gave me detention.”

“Me too,” you shrug. It’s not much of an olive branch but your instinct is to try and make him feel better. Misery loves company after all.

“You have?” He brightens up considerably. 

“He thought I wasn’t ‘suitably dressed’,” you say and his eyes follow your hands as you smooth the front of your satin dress. “What did you get chucked out for?”

“He caught me hiding behind the bar trying to drown my sorrows.” He pulls an entire bottle of Firewhisky from his cloak.

“Your sorrows?” 

He shrugs. “Doesn’t matter.”

“And he didn’t confiscate the bottle?”

“I pretended that I was about to vomit on his shoes and he just threw me out without noticing I still had it.” 

Without warning you both burst out laughing. Your stomach hurts from laughing at the idea of Snape dragging McLaggen out at arm’s length, trying to avoid being vomited on.

“Well, no wonder he was in such a foul mood when he saw me. I mean detention, for wearing a dress?”

“Personally, I agree with Snape,” His gaze lingers on you again. “It’s very distracting.”

“Oh, shut up.” 

“Just don’t ask me what colour it is. I haven’t noticed.”

You hit his arm. This is nice - the playful banter, both of you not sulking for the first time in weeks. It feels almost… normal. Until, with a small jolt, you remember it’s not.

“Don’t be a pig, McLaggen. You have a girlfriend.”

“She isn’t my girlfriend,” he says, leaning his head back against the wall. “We can’t stand each other.”

And there it is. The news you’d been secretly hoping for all night. The pit in your stomach feels much lighter.

“Where’s Smith anyway? He was looking pretty dishevelled when he came back from the corridor.”

You feel a pang of guilt. He’d noticed. And it doesn’t make you feel victorious in the way you’d thought it would. “I honestly couldn’t give a shit where he is.” He says nothing. You wonder if he’s been hoping for similar news too.

“Do you want some?” He asks eventually, shaking the bottle of Firewhisky and breaking the prolonged silence. You go to accept it but he says. “Not here - Snape and Filch will be prowling the corridors in a minute.”

“Quidditch stands?”

He nods and you exit the castle, walking side-by-side in the dark, down the path towards the pitch. It’s a frosty night and you feel your teeth chatter.

“Wait a sec.” He removes his heavy cloak and wraps it around your shoulders. It smells good. Like him. “Better?” You nod and take the bottle from him, so you can have a nip of Firewhisky. It burns your chest, spreading heat through your body.

The path ends when you get to the pitch and you feel your high heels sink into the grass. “Shit,” you hiss, freeing one of your stilettos.

“Right, up you get.” He stands in front of you and stoops slightly, so he can give you a piggyback. 

“You must be drunk if you think I’m letting you carry me.”

“Don’t argue for once in your life. Hurry up.”

You give him the bottle back before jumping up so he can carry you across the grass and underneath the stands. The familiar smell of amber and jasmine, this time mixed with Firewhisky and mud from the Quidditch pitch, reaches your nostrils. You resist the strong urge you have to lean into the crook of his neck and inhale.

He lets you off when you get to the wooden stairs. “Ladies first.”

“Remembered I’m not a bloke, have you?” you ask, walking up the stairs. Cho was right- he does always let you walk in front of him.

“If I thought you were a bloke, I wouldn’t constantly be staring at your arse.” He gives you a cocky grin. 

“Oh, well, by all means, carry on objectifying me then,” you say sarcastically and snatch the bottle from his hands before turning around quickly so he can’t see you smile. 

He follows you to the top of the stand where the pair of you sit, looking out onto the pitch and the snowy hills in the distance. 

“I’ve never noticed how beautiful it is up here,” you sigh. 

“Always been too busy watching the game?” 

You nod. 

“Same.” 

There’s still an awkward dark cloud hanging over your heads. You take another drink of Firewhisky and pass it back to him. 

“Right, out with it then.”

“What?” he asks.

“We can’t just act like the past couple of weeks haven’t happened.” Being brave, being vulnerable like this is something you’ve always found difficult and the bottle of liquid courage you and McLaggen are sharing doesn’t seem to be helping. 

You try to think of how to get the words out - if there’s one thing you’ve learned from spending more time with Cho and Marietta this year, it’s that it’s better to get this sort of thing out in the open. You take a deep breath, preparing for rejection but he beats you to the punch. 

“I’m an idiot.” He groans. “I just - I got it into my head that we’d go to the party together and you’d end up getting off with Gwenog Jones. So when Hermione asked me to go I jumped at the chance.”

“I don’t fancy Gwenog Jones-”

“-Then you turned up with Smith and that was even worse than what I imagined with Gwen.”

You draw his cloak around you and look at your shoes. “Well, I didn’t realise you had asked me to go to Slughorn’s party as friends.”

“I- I didn’t want to ask you as friends. Believe me. I thought I was kidding myself that you might be into me… everyone said I was stupid to even ask you.”

“Who’s everyone?”

“Belby-“

“Belby?!” You scowl. That moron. “Who else?” You demand.

“Well I’m not gonna say now, am I?” McLaggen laughs. “I can tell Belby’s about to regret it.”

Your face cracks into a smile. The aggression bubbling up in your chest evaporates into the frosty night air. His laugh gives you a new perspective - it’s as if you can step back from the scene and can see how daft it is to get so bothered by someone like Marcus Belby.

You look up at his face in the cold moonlight. Butterflies squirm in your stomach. He’s so distractingly good-looking - you can’t think properly when it’s just you and him like this. No quaffle or cauldron to divert your attention or give you a reason not to look at him for too long. 

“To be honest, I sort of thought Belby was right after all because you didn’t seem that keen when I asked you.”

“I hesitated because you make me nervous, Cormac,” you say softly, determined not to look away. It’s like looking into the sun.

“Yeah?” He’s still looking into your eyes but he feels closer now. 

“Don’t pretend you haven’t figured out by now that I like boys too.” You look from his eyes to his lips. “Well, not boys. Just… just one.”

His mouth is inches from yours. You can feel his breath on your lips. “If you say Smith, I’ll kill him.”

And there it is. You’re not sure whether it’s his possessiveness or the fact you’d really like to watch him hit Smith but something about that sentence makes you feral for him. You press your mouth against his, the burning taste of Firewhisky on both your lips. 

He kisses you back fiercely. It’s harder and rougher than the soft kisses you’ve experienced before but you like it. It means you can kiss him back the way you want to - you know he can handle it. You bite hard on his bottom lip in silent admonishment for what he’s put you through. And Cormac returns the favour, his hand roughly gripping the part of your thigh exposed by your dress. You wonder if he knows it’s for him. The absence of fabric - created for the sole purpose of seeking his attention.

You bring your arms behind his neck, pressing your body as close to him as you can and the Firewhisky falls from the bench and rolls on the floor, forgotten. He moves his hand under your thigh and drags you onto his lap so that you’re straddling him. Your lips meet again, crashing into each other and his tongue intrudes into your mouth, rolling over yours. You want to feel his mouth everywhere.

As if reading your mind, his lips leave yours to kiss along your jaw and down your neck. You lean back so he can draw his tongue along your collarbone and bury his face in your chest. Cormac’s strong hands grip your hips tightly, his thumbs pressing bruises into your hipbones without any indication of slowing down or showing restraint. 

From this position, you can feel his erection pressing into you. It’s the first time you’ve kissed a man like this but your body responds almost automatically, sending your hips grinding into him. The night air is below freezing but your skin feels burning hot between the weight of his cloak and the warmth of his body.

The difference in size and strength between you sends wild thoughts flashing through your mind of him pinning you down against the bench and savagely taking you there.

You run your fingers through his dark blonde hair, pushing his face into your cleavage in encouragement, feeling his hot tongue and rough chin against your chest as you grind yourself against him harder. The now hot and damp fabric of your underwear rubs against the hard bulge between your bodies, creating friction more electric than the one that’s been between you the past few weeks.

“Fuck…” he moans into your chest softly.

All evidence so far has pointed to Cormac being an ass man but you’re not so sure any more as he continues his vocal appreciation, licking and sucking your tits right here on the deserted stands.

Cormac’s hands move up from your hips to push your breasts together and he whines when one of your nipples peeks out over the top of your dress. He latches onto the small nub of skin and sucks, swirling his tongue around your nipple. 

“Cormac, fuck, that’s-”

But just what it is, is interrupted by the anguished moan of pleasure that leaves your lips when his teeth graze your sensitive skin. It echoes across the deserted pitch into the night. A noise that would be indiscernible in the usually busy stadium. Unable to take it anymore you push his chest back and stare into his eyes, breathing heavily. 

“We shouldn’t… we should go back to the castle,” you pant.

“Shouldn’t what?” He raises his eyebrows with a smirk, his slightly wet chin glistening in the dim moonlight. “I haven’t suggested anything.”

“I was talking to myself.”

He grins and helps you off of him so you can fix your dress. “Well, that was easily the best thing that’s happened to me in this stadium,” he says, adjusting himself too.

“Ah, maybe you’ll get a game one day,” you tease and cup his face, just so you can feel his stubbly chin against your palm again.  

He kisses your palm before taking your hand in his so you can walk back down the steps to the pitch together. When you get to the grass he insists on carrying you again but this time refuses to put you back down until you reach the castle steps. 

From a tower high above, Horace Slughorn looks out of the window of his now-empty office. The party has long finished. He chuckles to himself when he sees the silhouette of McLaggen emerging from the darkness, carrying you on his back towards the entrance hall, illuminated by the castle torches.

When you climb off him and make it to the top of the marble staircase, you kiss him goodbye one final time. This is the last time you’ll see him before you go home for the Christmas holidays tomorrow. You turn and leave for Ravenclaw Tower, while he goes off in the opposite direction to Gryffindor. 

“I can skip, I can be broken, I can burst, I can sing. What am I?” asks the bronze eagle knocker on the door. “A heart,” you say, ripping off your heels impatiently, waiting for the door to swing open. You need to wake up Cho and Marietta - you promised you’d tell them everything.

Chapter 6: First Name Basis

[i-am-bitterly-jittery]

Role Swap Chapter 2

Part 1

For @moxiety-week 2022 lmao

Word count: 1057

Rating: Gen

Pairings: platonic Virgil&Everyone (except Janus), particularly platonic Moxiety

Warnings: anxiety, coming out, unsympathetic Janus (as perceived by Virgil. He’s really just trying to help by positioning himself as the antagonist)

~~~START~~~

Virgil waited until Thomas started filming his next video to reveal his identity change — the longer he waited, the more anxious he got, but outing Deceit in front of everyone would be worth it.

Even if Thomas, Logan, and Roman hated him afterwards, it would be worth it.

He used the days between opening the closet and Thomas’s next video to get used to his room and explore his true style. As Ethan, he’d had a preppier style, but all his Ethan clothes were gone from his room, replaced by ripped black jeans and band shirts. Virgil was an emo, and when he looked at himself in the mirror, it felt right.

On the day of filming, Deceit popped up to take his place almost immediately as the others began their debate. Patton was there too, but he didn’t interject much other than to make the odd pun — he was there to support Virgil, whatever the others were trying to talk about would be forgotten soon enough.

Virgil waited until Deceit was in the middle of a monologue (he’d slowly been changing the character of Ethan to fit himself more) before popping up behind him. Thomas, Logan, and Roman all must have seen him, but he spoke before they were able to give his presence away.

“Get out of my spot!” He yelled into Deceit’s ear, smirking when the other Side jumped.

The scare startled Deceit out of his disguise, and when he whipped around to hiss at Virgil, it was a forked tongue that slipped out.

“Ssscheming sssneak!” Deceit hissed.

“Takes one to know one,” Virgil growled.

“What the heckity heck, three abs and one peck?” Roman yelled, looking between the two Sides, dumbfounded.

“Who are you, and what have you done with Ethan?” Thomas demanded, choosing to ignore Roman’s absurd outburst for the time being.

Deceit started evil laughing — like a cartoon character or something. Did he practice that in the mirror? “You foolish dummy,” he chuckled. “I am, and always have been, Ethan!”

“What!?” Thomas screeched.

“No,” Virgil grouched, snagging Deceit’s hat from him and tossing it across the room to Patton.

“Hey! That isn’t mine, and I don’t want it back!”

“Ah,” Logan said as the truth dawned on him. “This is obviously De-mphf.”

Deceit brought a hand up and Logan’s hand flew to his mouth, cutting himself off.

“Oooooh,” Roman gasped. “I get it now. Well, I get him,” he gestured at Deceit. “But I still don’t get Emo Nightmare over there.”

Virgil took a steadying breath. Across the room, Patton — wearing Deceit’s hat — gave him a double thumbs up.

“I’m here to tell the truth,” he said, forcing himself to maintain eye contact with Thomas. “Because as scary as the truth is, refusing to face it is hurting you, and avoiding it is just giving him more and more power.

“Ethan isn’t real, and he never has been. My name is Virgil, and while I was Caution when you were younger, I represent your anxiety now.” And then, because no one was saying anything and he was getting anxious about it, he awkwardly added “surprise.”

Thomas and Roman continued to say nothing and just stare at him shocked (Logan’s hand was still clamped over his mouth, but he looked shocked as well), then a slow sarcastic clap started.

“Oh bravo, Anxiety, bravo,” Deceit said sardonically. “You’re so mature now. Honestly, I thought you were just going to hide in your room like the scaredy cat you are.”

“Hey now!” Thomas cut in. “We do not insult each other here Mr.… Snake… Face… Guy… Honestly, I didn’t catch your name.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Deceit smirked. “You won’t be seeing me again.”

And with that, he sunk out. Virgil almost let out a breath of relief, but then Deceit popped up next to Patton.

“Give me that!” He hissed, snatching the hat from Patton’s head and sinking out again.

Once he was gone, Logan’s hand was freed.

“Well,” Logan said, adjusting his tie brusquely. “He is just as unpleasant as I remember.”

“Who even was that!?” Thomas asked.

“Uh, maybe we can focus on that later, kiddo?” Patton said. When Thomas confusedly stared at him, he nodded pointedly to where Virgil was building himself up to a panic.

“Oh. Oh!” He gasped, turning to Virgil with a warm smile. “Virgil– Anxiety– Virgil, hey, I know that coming out can be hard, and I just want to say that I’m really proud of you.”

“R-really? You don’t… hate me, or something?” Virgil asked hesitantly.

“Of course not,” Thomas smiled. “None of us do, right guys?” He asked the others pointedly.

That seemed to shake Roman out of his shock. “Never! You are our Dark and Stormy Knight, and we would be lost without you!”

“Logan?”

Logan blinked, having been seemingly lost in deep thought.

“Virgil,” he started slowly. “If anything I have ever said or done has ever made you think that you could not tell us about your change in function…”

“It’s okay, Lo,” Virgil told him. “It was a lot of things.”

“But if I contributed–”

“I forgive you.”

Logan blinked. “Thank you, Virgil, I am sure that that is far more than I deserve.”

“I’m so proud of you, kiddo!” Patton burst out suddenly, startling Virgil and the others.

“Thanks, Pat. Seriously, I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“I believe I owe you an apology as well, Patton,” Logan said slowly, clearly weighing his every word before he said them. “I have been treating you like an enemy when all you want — all you’ve ever wanted — is to help Thomas.” Logan paused for a moment, studying Virgil with a sad sort of look in his eye that Virgil wanted to banish immediately. “And you’ve done a much better job at that than I have recently. I am truly sorry.”

“Aww, apol-Logan-gy accepted, kiddo!”

“I take it back,” Logan said quickly, his sad look replaced by a put-upon look of annoyance that Virgil could tell was a mask for long suffering amusement.

“Too late!” Patton, Thomas, and Roman all chorused together. Virgil smiled to himself as Logan sputtered.

“Well,” Thomas said, looking at his four Sides proudly. “This isn’t where I expected today to go, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’m really proud of you guys.”

~~~END~~~

I know it wouldn't actually happen, but I imagine Janus's hat slipping down Patton's face like it's too big for him

I had most of this written for over a year, but I just couldn’t finish it. I’ve been wanting to finish one of my unfinished fics, so I chose the one with the least amount of work needed

General taglist:

@royalty-of-all-things-snuggly @pixelated-pineapple @arsonic-knight @misunderstood-shadowling

[dxncingwithastrxnger]

1. it’s been a secret for the longest time

A/N: Hey, guys!!! I've been working on this story for about a week or so, I'm so excited to finally be posting it!!! A couple of weeks ago, I became absolutely obsessed with the song inspiration for this and eventually my brain started applying it to Trilance and I'd say the result is absolutely beautiful. This is actually Chapter 1 out of at least 2 (though I might continue with more than that if people really want me to). Originally this was going to be much longer, it was actually going to include a whole smut scene which would've almost doubled the word count at least, maybe even fully doubled it, but my laptop needs to charge and I need to go to sleep, lmao. So you guys get part one now and part two sometime tomorrow!! Imma have to go back through and do some proofreading later on, but for the most part, it should be good to go!!! Happy reading!!!

Pairing(s): Tristan x Lancelot

Summary: For months now, Tristan and Lancelot have played a game of secret flirting, lustful longing, and maybe even something a bit more. But now that a certain date has finally been set, they're running out of time to decide what they want and Tristan decides he's going to finally make a move to advance things forward.

Tags: Aged up characters (somewhere around 21-24), alcohol, sexual tension, slight Guinevere bashing (💀💀), cheating/infidelity sorta (depends on how you look at it, I guess? But people have tried to come at me for not tagging cheating in the past, so, lmao)

Song Inspiration: Shameless By Camila Cabello (Highly recommend, btw)

Word Count: 4,883

Not beta'd, all mistakes are my own.

~*~

[Series Masterlist]

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7] [Chapter 8] [Chapter 9]

[Read on AO3]

[Author Masterlist]

~*~

Lancelot holds his breath as he waits. It's time. This is when he always shows up. Well, when they always show up, but he could care less about her. It's only him that he's concerned about. And there he is. Right on time. He watches from across the crowded club as two people come in through the front entrance. The flashing lights of the paparazzi that have followed them here were barely noticeable thanks to the heavy door blocking the club from the outside world quickly closing behind them.

A pinkette and a silverette make their way through the dancefloor slowly, stopping and talking to people, going by the bar to get their first round of drinks. Both of them are the closest thing to royalty you can get in their country, and in this club that means they are royalty as far as anyone is concerned. And they definitely live up to the title. A prince and a soon-to-be princess.

They're both beautiful. Stunning, even. They're shining stars, a picture perfect couple. The ultimate couple goals. Their life is perfect and nothing could be better. Everyone wants someone to love them like those two love each other. All anyone wants in life is to find someone who treats them as well as the prince treats the princess. That's all according to the world-wide media, anyways. But again, Lance doesn't care about anyone but the prince.

Finally, after a few minutes, they make their way over to where Lancelot is. Because of course. If they're the prince and princess, then he's a nobleman, his father being the royal advisor to the King himself, after all, if he were to continue his kingdom metaphors. He could even go so far as to say he was a family friend, though he's personally never spent much time with any of them.

"Lancelot, hello!" The princess addresses him kindly. "How have you been?"

He meets her eyes reluctantly. Not because he's afraid or intimidated by her, quite the opposite, in fact. There's just better places for him to look at right now. "I've been well, and you, your majesties?" He tacks on his little nickname for them with a playful grin.

She flushes slightly, but just shakes her head at him with a roll of her eyes while the prince beside her lets out a deep chuckle that absolutely lights Lance up inside. "We've been very well, isn't that right, my love?" The prince looks from Lance to the woman beside him as he speaks.

"Oh, yes, so much has happened recently. We must catch you up once we've finished making our round of greetings." The princess looked to be positively bursting with excitement. She then looks to the rest of his booth with curiosity and confusion, seeming to just now notice the lack of a brunette beside him. "Both of you. Where's your princess, Lance?" She questions, a mischievous spark in her eyes as she teases him with his own nickname for her.

Oh gods, don't let her hear you call her that. She would never let any of us live it down and then we'd have some real problems. He thinks with a mental sigh of exasperation. "She had a business call to attend to, I'm sure she'll be back by the time you two are." He states politely.

They both nod. "We'll be off then, see you in a few." Is called back at him as they turn and walk away. He shakes his head and turns back to the table, downing the rest of his drink in order to keep himself from staring at the Prince's backside as he walks away. He sets his glass back down and tilts his head back, closing his eyes and sighing as he sags in his seat.

The prince and princess. Tristan Liones and Isolde Connors. Son of Meliodas Taizman and daughter of Chester Connors. Chester is someone who started out as nothing more than average middle-class and managed to work his way up the ladder and into the livelihood of the rich after finding a way to create a new piece of technology that allows people to rediscover long lost memories.

Meliodas is the Mayor of the city of Liones, the capitol of our country and the biggest and most populated place in all of Britannia. He's married to the previous Mayor's daughter, so some like to say that he didn't rightfully earn his place as leader of the people, but the truth is, he had already started making a name for himself before he'd even met his current wife, through his connection with the Sin Committee.

They were a group of activists who came from out of town. They're an interesting mix of people. Each of them have their own individual cause that they wanted to focus on the most, so they'd be in charge of that topic, situation, idea, etc. But whenever there was a protest or a meeting or a vote, all the other members would gather to help out. There was 7 of them, so they each chose one of the seven deadly sins to use as a code name, which is also where their official group name came from. They gathered for all kinds of stuff. Protests, uprisings, voting polls, they made speeches and outed assholes who tried to make themselves look good. And they didn't just do it in Liones, they did it all over Britannia. Danafall, Edinburgh, Benwick. They were changemakers and they were damn good at it.

They were planning on eventually traveling out of Liones and continuing on, but then Meliodas met the mayor's daughter, Elizabeth Liones. And he decided to stay so that he could be with her, settle down and actually grow out some roots somewhere. And the rest of his group followed suit, each one finding some reason or another to stay here and build an official life for themselves. Eventually Meliodas and Elizabeth got married and not long after, Meliodas ran for Mayor as Elizabeth's father stepped down.

So, the prince. Yeah, Lance thinks it's a pretty fitting name, considering the whole damn city is named after his family. That choice of nickname definitely doesn't have anything to do with the fact that if told to, he would immediately fall to the man's feet and do whatever else was asked of him without hesitation. It definitely doesn't have to do with the fact that for months, the only constant thought in his mind is what Tristan's skin might feel like and how his lips might taste. And it definitely doesn't have anything to do with the fact that Lance has never wanted any man, any person, more than he's wanted Tristan Liones. Definitely not.

"What's up with you? Tired already?" A voice breaks him from his thoughts as the brunette slides into the booth next to him, having finished up with her phone call.

The only thing making me tired is you, Lance thinks wryly. "No, just lost in thought, thinking over some stuff." He replies, flashing her a quick half-hearted smile. "Isolde and Tristan stopped by to say hi. Isolde says she wants to tell us about some things. They should be back anytime now." He informs her.

"Oh good, it's been awhile since we've seen them, it'll be good to catch up." She states, smiling as she loops her right arm through Lance's left one and leans her head on his shoulder. Lance suppresses a sigh and places an arm around her shoulders out of obligation more than anything else, the girl under his arm sighing contentedly and snuggling closer. He grimaces, glad she can't currently see his face. Luckily, he's saved from having to linger too much on her, as Tristan and Isolde take that moment to appear once again.

"Oh, Guinevere, you're back! Lance said you would be back before we were, but I was worried when he mentioned it being a business call." Isolde admits to the woman at his side.

"Oh, it was nothing, everything is fine now." Guinevere waves her hand in front of her with an air of nonchalance.

Lance stops focusing on the women's interaction as he finally gives in to his urge that's almost instinct by now to look at Tristan. Tristan, who currently appears to be burning holes into Guinevere's arm with his eyes, glaring directly at where her arm is looped with his. Oh. Jealousy was not something seen often on the prince, but Lance is just now realizing that it is a very good look on him. Especially when it's about Lance himself.

Tristan must've felt Lance's eyes on him because his multi-colored eyes were suddenly meeting bright red. Lance's breath hitched. He was suddenly pinned by the hot spark in those green and blue irises of his. Something had changed, had finally shifted in this long game of theirs. He knew right then that tonight would be different. He didn't know how yet, but he was excited to find out, and he made sure to hold his realization and how he felt about it into his expression, with a hint of questioning. The silver-haired prince shook his head with a quick wink, just the tiniest of movements that no one would notice unless they were specifically looking for it. 'Not right now, you'll see.' Is what he was saying. Lance gave a nod in acknowledgement, another barely there movement, and smirked. Tristan is the only reason he really even continues to come here and he never disappoints, not that Lance has ever expected him to.

"So," Tristan speaks up then, clearly having paid enough attention to the other conversation happening to know when to interrupt. "Shall we head up to the lounge? It's so much easier to talk privately up there." He suggests, looking away from Lance and between the pinkette and brunette.

"Oh, yes, that sounds like a wonderful idea." Guinevere says, already getting up with her drink in hand. Lance follows suit as Isolde chimes her own agreement and the four of them head up the club's spiral stairs, the prince and princess leading the way and Lance swears that Tristan is swaying his hips slightly. Gods, he'll be the absolute death of me, Lance groans inwardly.

They enter one of the VIP lounges, the one they enter completely empty except for the bartender at the bar in the back of the room. Lance orders a second drink as the other three go sit down and he walks over to join them soon ever. When he reaches the table that they chose, he freezes for a moment. The place that was picked to sit at was a round, single booth with two spaces to enter it. On Lance's right, he could easily sit down right next to Guinevere, just like he always does, just like he should. But next to Guinevere is Isolde and next to Isolde is Tristan with an open spot right next to him and for a split second, Lance genuinely considers turning to the left and sitting next to the prince. But he catches himself and dutifully takes the spot to the right.

As he slides into his seat and places an arm across the top of the booth behind Guinevere's head, he looks to Tristan with nothing but a deep longing, finding the same emotion reflected back at him. He swallows and turns away from him, afraid he might do something stupid if he continues looking at him in that moment.

"So, Isolde? What's all this exciting news you guys have to tell us?" Lance asks as he looks at her, an eyebrow raised as he takes a sip of his drink. He notices out of the corner of his eyes that Guinevere also turns to her as she leans into his side again. He forces himself not to shift away from her.

Isolde suddenly gives out a quiet squeal. "Okay! So," She looks at Tristan for a moment before turning back to them, Lance watching as the positions of the prince and princess mirror almost exactly Lance and Guinevere's. But he doesn't think much of it as Isolde continues talking. "Tristan and I have finally gotten a date for the wedding figured out!!" She exclaims happily, positively beaming. Guinevere gasps and shares in Isolde's excitement, the two women taking a moment to ramble together.

Tristan gives out a low chuckle and Lance turns to him again, something off about the sound that escaped him. The prince seems tense, his expression tight, and it becomes clear to the blonde that his chuckle wasn't born out of any kind of amusement, though it could easily appear that way to the two others in their party, as they were barely paying him any attention in this moment. Lance's brows furrow, a slight tilt of his head asking Tristan what his reaction was for. Yeah, so they figured out a date for the wedding already. Not ideal for Tristan, he was sure, but-

"Yes!" The fakest smile he had ever seen to date plasters itself across the prince's face. "August 28th." He states. "Of this year." And right there was the answer to Lance's question. Four months. Tristan and Isolde were getting married in four months. The public had only known them to be engaged for three.

"Ohhh, an end of summer wedding will be beautiful." Guinevere says in awe.

"Oh, won't it?" Isolde coos, her hands clasping in front of her.

"In just four months, huh? That's a lot sooner than I would've expected." Lance pipes up, his eyes not having left Tristan's at all yet.

"Yes, well, Isolde just couldn't wait any longer." Tristan states. "And apparently neither could my parents. August was supposed to be a completely unavailable month. But upon hearing that August was ideal over September or November, he completely canceled all matters of business for the month. That way we could have "the pick of the lot", he said." Tristan spat out, his words getting colder as he continued, and this time it didn't seem to be for a reason that he cared to hide.

Lance's suspicions were confirmed when Isolde spoke up next. "Oh, Tristan, cut your father some slack. I know you were excited for that trip, but your father just wants to help us in any way he can." She tells him, her voice on the verge of scolding. The tone made Lance almost scoff.

Tristan looked down at Isolde with a much softer expression than he had just a moment before and smiles at her. "You're right as always, I'm sorry. Forgive my thoughtlessness." And then the prince lays a soft kiss on the princess' lips, and the young nobleman has to look away quickly at the sight. Lance takes a long drink from his glass as he surveys the rest of the lounge outside of their booth, seeing it still empty as it was before. He's about to excuse himself for a moment, needing some air, when he's stopped from doing so.

"Isolde, do you mind if I talk to Lancelot privately for awhile? Most of the rest of your announcements have to do with the wedding more than anything else and Guinevere seems a lot more interested in those details than Lance does. Plus, I feel like I should finally get to know a bit more about the man. His father is practically my uncle and yet I feel I've barely spent any time with Lancelot himself." Tristan explains to his fiance, looking at her with casual questioning.

Isolde smiles at him, believing his explanation entirely. "Of course!" Suddenly she lights up even more. "Oh! Anne should be here soon, too! Guin, have you met Anne yet? You would absolutely love her!" Isolde gushes as she looks to the brunette.

Guinevere shakes her head. "Oh, I don't think so, but if she's a friend of yours, then I have no doubt that we'll get along." She states warmly. Isolde beams at her as Tristan exits the booth to let Isolde out and Lance follows his lead, letting Guinevere out. Isolde and Tristan share a peck on the lips and Lance turns to Guinevere to do the same, knowing she'll expect it.

"Take your time, don't rush, okay? I want you to have fun with your friends. We are here for that purpose, after all." Tristan points out to Isolde.

Isolde grins and throws her arms around him in a quick hug and for a moment, the smile on Tristan's face is back to being genuine, obvious affection on his face for the woman before him. Just not the kind that it's supposed to be. "Thank you. Have fun with your new friend, Trist." Isolde says before turning and looping her arm with Guinevere's, dragging her away as the brunette waves at Lance as she goes. Once the two of them have left the lounge and headed down the stairs to go meet up with Anne, Lance turns back to the booth, seeing Tristan already sitting once again. Lance sits back down as well, both of them choosing spots that allow them to be exactly across from each other.

They both stay silent for a few minutes, simply staring at each other, both seeming to be in quiet contemplation. Then Tristan breaks the silence first. "So, when are you and your fiancé going to make an announcement? The public doesn't even know that you two are engaged yet." He points out.

Ah, yes. His fiancé. Not by his own choice, of course. He doesn't have a single romantic notion towards her. In fact, he doesn't really have any platonic ones towards her, either. Guinevere is too arrogant for her own good and has way too big an ego, not to mention her whole I-know-everything attitude. It's all just a big turn off for him. But he's stuck with her. For now, at least. She's the person that his parents chose for him. Just like Isolde is the one that Tristan's parents chose for him. Some people have said recently that arranged marriages are way too old school and going out of style, but in reality, they're just as common now as they were 200 years ago.

"I'm not an actor like you, Prince Tristan." Lance tells him with a wry smile. "Guinevere is well aware that I'm not in love with her and she doesn't want to start up the wedding process until I do fall in love with her, because, apparently, she's absolutely certain that I will eventually."

Tristan tilts his head to the side slightly. "And how do you know that I'm acting with Isolde?" He asks, a hint of teasing in his tone.

Lance raises an eyebrow at him and he chuckles softly. "Considering you look at me in ways I've never once seen you even consider looking at her, I'd say you're more likely to be in love with me than with her."

Tristan's eyes widen as soon as the words leave his mouth and Lance's do, too, once his own words register in his mind. That right there was territory neither of had even dared go into before. There's never been any communication of feelings besides lust, passion, and curiosity. There couldn't be any romance between the two, could there? He was frozen, unsure how to recover from his own suggestion.

"Well. You certainly are observant, that's for sure." The silverette seems to have recovered faster than him, though his voice is much softer than it was before.

The topic switch definitely helps. Lance locks eyes with him, pouring every ounce of want he has for the man into his eyes without a single bit of shame or hesitation. "Yes, but you already know that, don't you?" Flashes run through his mind of all the times they've checked each other out or sent silent flirtations towards each other.

From the way Tristan bites his lip, he's thinking of the same thing. But instead of replying, he slides further into the booth, until he's in the middle of the half circle. He pats the spot right beside him. "Come over here." He orders.

Lance hesitates for a moment. Not because he doesn't want to be closer to Tristan. He knows that once he moves closer, it'll be the turning point of whatever this is between them. All of this is completely new. As he noticed before, he makes note of it again. Something is different about tonight. And he has a feeling he's about to find out exactly what it is. But he hangs back a little longer. It's like when a roller coaster reaches the top but then stops for just those extra few seconds, building up the anticipation so that you feel it just that tiniest bit more when the ride finally dips and takes the drop down. And it seems his decision was the right one.

When Lance doesn't immediately come over to him, Tristan bows his head down slightly, then looks back up at Lance through his lashes, an almost shy look on his face. "Please?" The single word comes out as half whisper, half purr and Lance suddenly feels the need to adjust himself. Fuck.

Lance slides across the booth until he's right beside the prince, only about an inch of space between their bodies. He's tense now. He doesn't know what to do with himself, where to put his hands. Eventually he decides to just place them on the table in front of him. He left his drink across the table, so he just lays his hands flat on the dark wood. Then Tristan places his hand on top of Lance's and he startles slightly, sucking in a deep breath at the contact. He can hear Tristan's breath hitch beside him and he knows that he must've felt it, too. The bolt of lightning that struck through to the very core of his being as soon as their skin connected. But Tristan continues despite it.

"Just take a second to relax, okay?" He says casually in a low voice. And then he starts moving his hand across Lance's wrist and over his arm slowly, causing Lance to do the opposite of relax. It felt like electricity was coursing throughout his entire arm, spreading out from where Tristan's hand was. He watches with wide eyes as the silverette's hand reaches the crook of his elbow and starts making it's way up.

"Relax, remember?" Is whispered into his ear as he feels the slight brush of hair against his cheek. He closes his eyes as his whole body shudders.

He tries his best to follow the instruction, urging his body to relax against the seat. Then Tristan changes the position of his hand slightly, pressing the tips of his nails against Lance's shirt and then lightly dragging them against the skin over his collarbone and Lance melts. His head falls back against the top of the cushion behind him and bites his lip as the other man's palm presses flat to the spot where his neck meets his shoulder, sliding up the side of his neck and over his collarbone, until his hand finally stops, resting gently against Lance's cheek. The electricity has followed his hands path, leaving a pleasant burn in it's wake, every part of him that's been touched feeling so warm.

He slowly opens his eyes as he sits back up, looking at Tristan. The prince has a look of pure awe on his face as he stares at him, as if something Lance just did has absolutely amazed him. Lance reaches up and threads his fingers into some of the hair at the top of the prince's head and runs them through it gently. Tristan's eyes flutter closed and he hums, a pleased sound. Once his fingers reach the tips of his long hair, he brings his hand back up and mimics what Tristan did, his hand curved around his cheek. When Tristan opens his eyes again, the blue and green in them is barely visible with how wide his pupils are blown.

"Lance." He whispers, his voice shaking slightly now. "I don't exactly know what it is going on between us. What all these feelings are and what they'll lead to. I know that I want you. I want you more than I've ever wanted anybody or anything in my entire life. But," He brings his free hand up to wrap around the wrist of the hand Lance has on his face, tracing small circles into his skin with his thumb. "I feel like it's something more than that. Like even if I finally have you, I won't be able to let you go." He admits, giving Lance that same shy look as before, but with a hint of fear in it this time. Fear of what, he wasn't sure.

Lance swallows before answering. "I think I know what you mean." Is all he whispers back. He has his own theories of what it all was, but he isn't sure he's ready to confront that just yet. Tristan runs his eyes over Lance's face a few times, like he's searching for something. Then they lock eyes once again and Lance suddenly realizes that it's not Tristan's voice that's shaky. Tristan himself is trembling. Before Lance can question him, he speaks up again.

"I don't know what it is," A fierce determination sparks in his eyes and Lance is both surprised and entranced by it. "But I want to." He says just barely above his breath. "I want to-" He cuts himself off, like he's afraid of what was about to come out of his mouth.

"What is it?" Lance asks him. "What do you want to do?" He brings his other hand up to cup Tristan's other cheek gently, looking at him pleadingly. Somewhere deep down, he knew exactly what the prince wanted, because he wanted it, too, but he needed to hear him say it first.

Tristan leans into his touch and lets out a sound close to a whimper. "I want to find out together. You and I. We could do it, you know. Because you were right. Of course you were. Isolde has never been anything more than a sister to me, a friend. I hate the idea of marrying her and everything that's meant to come with it. Tomorrow, I can break things off with her. Tell my parents that there's someone else. I don't care how mad they get at me. And then you and I, we can take this however far it goes, as long as you do the same. We can make our own choices for once instead of just always doing what everyone else wants us to." His own eyes are pleading now and the fear is even more evident. Lance realizes that the fear is of rejection. That his proposal will be brushed off and turned away from.

"And what would your choice be, Prince Tristan?" He asks, his own voice trembling.

"As of right now, my choice would be you, Sir Lancelot." Tristan says with certainty.

"What if I don't want that?" Lance asks him. Not because he's considering no. Not at all. Only because he's curious as to what the alternative is.

Tristan leans in slightly, taking his hand from Lance's wrist and reaching up to run a thumb down his temple and over his cheekbone before his hand lands on his jaw and stays there. "Then we won't continue this any further. I couldn't handle doing anything more if you don't want the same as me. But it's your choice. Kiss me right now and I'm yours. Walk away from me right now and we'll never be this close again, everything we've been doing will stop."

Lance looks at him. The answer was clear as soon as the idea left Tristan's pretty pink lips. Leave Guinevere and the stupid arranged marriage behind in order to pursue Tristan and see where the feelings between them go? It wasn't even a question. Lance gives him a grin. "Stupid of you to think that I could ever walk away from you." He tells him. And then Lance is crashing his lips against Tristan's.

~*~

A/N: So, how is it so far??? Did you guys like it?? Cause I honestly loved writing this. I love these boys sm and this AU was really fun to come up with. You guys will get the rest tomorrow!!! Please, lemme know all your thoughts on this!!! I hope you enjoyed it!!!! Love y'all 💜💜💜

~*~

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@darkelf-7

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[pastel-greene]

The Daughter | king!sukuna x curse user!reader

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 - Magnets | Chapter 3

Summary: The mother of curses happens upon a blind child and decides to impart a portion of her power to them as an experiment of sorts. The power morphs the child in their image until they are part curse and part human. So what happens when they get employed by the King of Curses? Will humanity bloom as newfound emotions flow between the two? Or will they usher in an era of never ending terror?

Notes: not all of this will be canon, it will be loosely based off of the jjk universe :) taglist is open, comment on any chapter to be tagged in future ones

Genre: female reader, fluff, angst, ‘loads’ of smut, violence, sukuna true form but like not with the weird face lmao just double set of eyes and arms, dark reader

Warnings: profanity, explicit smut (two dick sukuna, sadistic sex, biting, oral m & f receiving, pet names, more to be added), violence, depictions of gore, dark minds cause yk, mentions of rape, toxic relationships, chaotic neutral reader, trauma, possessiveness from reader and sukuna, torture, vampire themes (reader’s blood is infused with the Mother of curses so if a curse user is to drink it it basically gives them a temporary stat boost bc what can i say vampire sukuna seems hot), and more to be added as story progresses

Word Count: 6.4k

This work contains mature content, so absolutely no minors I will block you if I find out :)

Sukuna’s POV

Screams ring out in his ears as he plows into the concubine beneath him. Tears fill her eyes and blood trickles from various bite marks he has left across her body. Her hands helplessly pull against her restraints as her thighs beg to close and bar him from the assault he’s laying on her insides. Both of his cocks stretch her to lengths she doesn’t have as she writhes in pain, his pace so brutal he thinks he hears her pelvis crack. She tries to form pleas for him to stop but her tongue doesn’t let them pass, as she knew he might just kill her on the spot. So she just spasms there screaming and accepts the assault.

He couldn’t care less about her pain, he almost wanted to completely destroy her, slam into her until she splits into two and finally shuts the hell up. But that would affect his relationship with her father. He controls a substantial farming operation that keeps the land from starving. In his youth, he would have just slaughtered the world and been done with it, but what’s the point in being King if there is nothing? He had found that some people had an ounce of worth for their intellect. They may not be worth a damn as fighters, but they created things he had come to enjoy. Like this delectable slut crying beneath him. Her curves were full, her skin soft and supple, her eyes always so full of fear driven obedience. A perfect fuck toy in his array of options.

He slams into her rougher causing her eyes to go wide as he penetrates her cervix. She is so perfect yet so fucking disgusting. She no longer felt right, her obedience no longer made his cock twitch, her perfect skin no longer held the attraction it once did. She was weak, pathetic, and not you. You. A cocky bitch just begging to be knocked down a peg. Begging to be forced down with his weight and torn apart from the inside. Would you scream for him? No, you wouldn’t be that boring. You would be calling him dirty names no one else would dare to. You would hurt him every time he hurt you and fight him every step of the way for dominance. You wanted to fuck him? What a joke. You didn’t know what you were asking for, and if he decided to, it wouldn’t be your choice to begin with.

His cock finally starts twitching inside the useless sow beneath him as he pictures fucking her. He hated that it was so difficult to touch you, he wanted to feel you more. He wanted to bury his face in your neck and get lost in your smell. He wanted to cover you in his smell so he could inhale the birth of your combined scents. He wanted to bite you until your skin broke and leave you covered in bruises from his mouth’s assault. You would look so fucking pretty marked as his. Even better if his claim to you reached even your insides. He would cum in you over and over again and keep you too full of his cocks for any of it to escape. He wanted to marinate your insides with his seed until they would only wet for him. He wanted you in his bed covered in blood, sweat, cum, and tears as you took him better than any other bitch could and begged for more instead of pushing him away. Fuck yes, focus on that picture, yes, yes, yessss.

With a few more pumps he was filling his concubine’s holes with his seed until it came bursting out past his cocks. He panted a few times before looking down. He felt a wave of anger wash over him at what he just thought of. That girl is a peasant, a run through whore with no respect. He didn’t want to fuck you, he wanted to put a spike through your eye socket and let your nude corpse hang from his throne. It took everything he had to not take his anger out on the passed out girl beneath him. It wouldn’t bring him real pleasure anyway and would cause more trouble than it was worth. He pulled his cocks out and used her sheets to wipe them clean before grabbing his robe. He had more hearings to attend for the day and a good idea of how he was going to let off steam. For the villagers’ sake, there better not be many.

(Y/N) POV

Your new servants had come not long after Geto left. They took your measurements and went over design specifications with you before taking down your preferred booze. You had spent the rest of the day in your room, taking a mental inventory of everything you now had. Your room was ridiculously huge. You genuinely weren’t sure what to do with everything in it. You had a large mat for sitting and a table in the middle of it that you had decided to move to the side of it. You doubted there were enough people here to need the other side available for seating, and the newfound space gave you room to workout on. You knew there was a shared training space, but you figured you could occasionally do it here if there was someone already there. You figured you had pissed the King off earlier and wanted to avoid him when you could, because you knew your smartass mouth would end up losing you visitation days. You don’t think Uraume liked you either. Geto might be fun to spar with, so you probably wouldn’t run if he was there.

You looked around at your empty shelves. You asked the servants what people usually filled them with, and while they weren’t sure what the other sorcerers put in them, they guessed relics, personal items, or books. You weren’t one for keeping stuff as you considered most of it to be clutter, but you wondered about where you could get books. You thought of the anatomy and science books Ireiri used to keep and sometimes show you parts from. You missed her. You missed Kento too. Your whole life was miles away. Or well your old life. Until further notice this was your new life. You sighed as you pulled back the curtain to look out the large window that acted as one of your room’s walls. The sun was starting to set. They were probably just waking and would soon find the letters you had sent for them explaining that you would be working here for a while and not to worry. You were going to let yourself continue to steep in useless emotions when there was a knock on your door.

Before you could respond it swung open. The King himself sauntered into your room like it was his, and well technically it was but you would still call it rude. You bowed your head to him and kept your eyes on the floor as he walked up to you and sniffed.

“Good girl, not a drop of alcohol in you. I didn’t know you were capable of following rules after your earlier outburst”, he said while towering over you.

“What can I say, I am full of surprises my King.”

“King Sukuna, address my name in all of its glory”, he said with what you were sure was a pompous grin.

“Forgive my error King Sukuna. I didn’t mean to hurt your name’s ego”, you said knowing damn well you shouldn’t but couldn’t help it. You wanted to rip the stick out of his ass and beat him with it.

A loud crack echoed throughout your chambers as you felt a slap land on your cheek for your insolence. The impact caused your head to slump to the side, before you cocked it up at him with blood ridden smirk. He had busted your lip, so you straightened your stance and let him watch you lick the blood from the corner before resuming your bow.

“Crazy brat”, he said while thinking about how well you took his strength. Most people would have been left with their heads facing the wrong way from that hit, but instead you smirked through blood tinted teeth. “And to think that I had come bearing gifts. I don’t think you deserve them if you can’t keep that mouth under control though. Naughty bitches shouldn’t be rewarded”, he said with a smirk while using one of his hands to tilt your chin up. “What happened to the good girl that greeted me?”

You fucking hated these pet names. You knew he was just taunting you, but you also knew you would have to comply to get your gifts and for him to leave. And you really wanted a drink at this point. “I sincerely apologize King Sukuna”, you said as you continued to stare up into his eyes. His upper set stared back into yours while the bottom set looked down at the blood smeared across your lip.

“Let me touch you without you leeching my power and I will consider it forgiven.”

You really didn’t want to but knew that there wasn’t really a way around it. Constantly disobeying him wouldn’t be fruitful in the long haul and definitely wouldn’t help you get out of this any quicker, so you sighed and slightly titled your head while still looking at him, “You may touch me for now”.

He chuckled at your allowance, “Why, thank you. How graceful of you to allow your King to touch you.” His hand reached out to your lip before his tongue appeared and lurched out, licking up the residue of your blood. You went to jump back at the unexpected appendage dragging across the side of your lip, but his hand grabbed your hair and kept you still. A feral look started unwinding in his eyes as he tasted you. A look you knew all too well. He was absorbing the Mother’s nectar that pulsed through your body, nostrils flaring as his senses became overridden.

“If you take too much at once your heart will stop— regardless of how strong you are. It will fuel you and boost your abilities, but it is a double edged sword. Not to mention I would die and you would be forever cut off from it”, you said hoping it would convince him not to give into the bloodlust that covered his features.

You weren’t wrong. He could feel his power grow, his blood pumping into his muscles, his ears could hear the smallest of sounds from a mile away, his eyes could see things in what felt like a bird’s eye view and zoomed in one at the same time. Is this how you always were? Was your body this in tune with everything around you? His skin was on fire. He could feel yours with such detail, the warmth it radiated, the power humming through it. If he concentrated enough he felt like he would be able to feel your feelings.

He shoved your face away from him and stepped back, “What are you?”

“A vampire”, you said with as straight of a face as you could.

He blinked a few times as his jaw hung open. “A vampire? They’re real?”

You burst out into a tearful laugh and slapped your knee, “No, of course not! But you should have seen the look on your face, it was almost cute”, you said before composing yourself and quickly trying to fix what you were sure was another mistake, “I apologize for joking with you King Sukuna. It just seemed like it would be funny. I am not a vampire, but I cannot tell you why my blood is like that. I have no issue serving you or allowing you to help yourself to it on occasion, but there are some secrets I must keep. Keeps things fun and fresh, y’know?”

No. He did not know. All he knew was that you were the most insufferable brat with the biggest balls he had ever met. You had just lied to and humiliated him and then laughed in his face. Then told him you would continue to keep secrets from him for your own entertainment. Honestly, he was baffled. He never had to deal with insolence like this. Most people would have never dared talk to him like this, and if they had, they would have been struck down on the spot. If you weren’t growing more and more useful by the day he would have already killed you. Maybe he could tie you up and use you as a blood bag, or kidnap one of those friends you wrote to. That would likely end up with an all out brawl between the two of you and as much as he hated to admit it, he didn’t want to kill you. So he just pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

Awh, you actually felt a little bad about how flustered he looked. He had opened and closed his mouth a few times before resorting to the classic sigh and bridge pinch. You guess there actually was a chance he had never been joked around with at length.

“I am sorry King Sukuna, truly. My joke was insensitive and disrespectful. I truly didn’t mean anything deeper than to get a laugh out of me and maybe you. I am sorry if I have upset you”, you said with your brows knitted together.

Pity. You were giving him pity. As if he didn’t feel angry enough, you were now looking down on him. “Give me your hand”.

You were confused and slightly nervous given the dark look swimming in his eyes, but you obeyed and placed your hand within his. Within a split second he was applying a crushing force to it, your bones breaking under his temporary boost in strength. You bit and sucked on the inside of your cheek to keep from releasing any noises or tears for him.

“Beg for forgiveness”, he said while digging his fingers in between the bones of your hand, blood dripping onto the floor. He watched as you stared up at him with anger lashing behind your pupils. He could feel your urge to fight him right there, but his urge was the same. He had put up with your cheeky remarks but for you to so openly look down on him as if he was weak enough to need pity was a line he wasn’t going to let you cross without consequence. He spread his fingers as the ligaments holding your knuckles tore apart. Tears swelled in your eyes but refused to pool over the edge. That’s it, cry for him.

God you wanted to take him into the realm in between and tear him limb from limb. You wanted to stab your energy through each of his wrists and wrap it around his hands before slowly pulling them off his body. You wanted to watch him scream in pain for you, but you knew that would be a shortsighted win. So you swallowed your bitter pride and begged. “Please, King Sukuna forgive me.”

“Beg harder brat”, he said while clenching his fist, your bones starting to snap sideways through your skin as blood now poured onto the floor.

You hated begging but fucking hell your hand hurt. You had experienced pain before but never have you not been able to end it. You hated him. Fuck joking around with him. Fuck letting him touch you. Fuck letting him experience your blood. He didn’t deserve any of it. He was a spiteful little shit too cocky for his own good. Maybe you could say screw it to the whole deal and just fucking end him here. Maybe your Mother would accept him as a gift and he could become a mindless slave for her and bow to you both. Fuck, you’d be damned if he would make you run to your mother for help though. You would turn him into a slave on your own. It may take time, patience, and groveling, but you would find a time to strike. Send your magic right into his mind and never let go. Poke holes into it until he is just a puppet for your amusal. And then you would walk him around the realm, leashed and on his knees for you. A good boy. Fucking asshole, you would ruin him, “Please King Sukuna, please forgive me. I am so sorry for what I said. Please stop hurting me. I promise I will be better for you, I will be good for you.”

Looking down at your teary eyes, the watered down blood residue on your lower cheek, your mangled hand drenched in red, and hearing you beg to be good for him had his cock twitching on the spot. He pulled his fingers out of your hands and licked the blood off of them, relishing in the feeling that washed over him again. “If you would just be a good girl for me all the time I wouldn’t have to hurt you like this, your words are so pretty but those eyes still look like they want me dead. Close them.”

He wanted you to close your eyes? To go back to seeing the world in black? Fucking asshole had no idea the depth he was torturing you with such a simple command, but if you resisted he would know. So you closed your eyes and felt his hand wrap around your throat and pull you up towards him, “You are mine, brat. I own you and you will obey me one way or another. Do you understand, pet?” He brushed the hair around your face as he waited for your response.

“Yes, King Sukuna,” you managed to get out in a choked gurgle. He is right. If he could see your eyes right now, it would all be murderous intent.

He licked along your jaw to your ear before pricking it and licking up the blood that pooled, “Good girl”.

The King had left shortly after that and to your surprise allowed your gifts to be brought in. You wasted no time downing a few shots before looking at the hand he had mangled earlier. It had healed before he had even let you go, but you were still pissed. Talk about no sense of humor. You make a few jokes and he shreds your fucking hand and treats you like an object. You punched the air a few times as your frustration built. You needed some sort of release. Sex, yes. Sex would be a great release. Someone to burn off some of your energy so you could calm the fuck down. But there was no one to do it with. Ughhhh you hated it here and it had only been one day. You sighed as you stared down your empty glass. Kento would know how to calm you down. He would have you seeing stars and forgetting all your troubles within minutes.

You decided to cut your losses on sex and go for a walk instead. You hadn’t been given a curfew, so you had your servants take you down to where the river hugged the border of the shrine. You drank straight from the bottle as you sat with your knees up to your chest and looked into the water. It felt so calm, so free, so peaceful. You think that if you were to die you would want to drown and allow your body to float to the bottom and never be found. You could deteriorate into the water until you were one.

“Rough day”, Geto asked as he walked up to where you were sitting.

You were sure he already knew the answer so you just scoffed.

He sighed at your response or lack thereof. “Hey, hey, HEEEEY—.”

“WHAT”, you shouted before giggling at his use of your own antics.

He gave you a smile before coming to sit beside you, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Okay we don—.”

“Just what is his problem? All I did was joke with him and he tore apart my fucking hand? I would just not speak to him and avoid crossing paths, but he came into my room. How the hell can I avoid him if he comes to me? I am obviously going to say something stupid, because that’s apparently just a me thing, so why make situations that don’t need to happen? He is just insufferable”, you interrupted. You were so frustrated with your situation, but saying it out loud also made it sound childish. You were just as much to blame for this mess. You should know to just speak to him as little as possible and play along with his delusion to make your life easier. It felt simple enough until he actually spoke. Everything he did got under your skin, you hated everything about him.

“Are you done?”

“Oh fuck you too”, you said while taking another drink. “I know I should just keep my mouth shut and that I am part of the problem. I have just never had to answer to anyone like I do him. I am strong enough to not have to bow my head, yet here I am, constantly forced to look at the floor.”

“You two are so alike”, he said quietly, “you’re both so strong that your first thought is to deal with things through violence. It is like two opposing magnets trying to make a connection, you just constantly fight for dominance.”

He wasn’t wrong. You hated that you had to be the one to analyze your behavior and not him but maybe that would be easier. Without really thinking you laid your head on his shoulder, “Thank you for talking with me even though you don’t really like me.”

He looked down at where your head lay before looking out at the water with you, “I know I am such a saint helping the perpetually needy”, he said while smiling which earned him a light punch in the side. “You’re not all bad. If anything, this is the most exciting things have been here since the war.”

“I know, right? I’m funny and exciting, dammit. Finally, someone here sees it”, you say with a drunken hum at the end. This, right here, was nice. It felt like being home. You smiled and gave another hum before sitting up. “I should probably go back to my quarters, thank you again for talking with me.”

“And here I thought you were going to burden me with carrying you back to your room after drooling all over my shoulder”, he said while also getting up and brushing himself off.

“I had considered it, but I figured I had burdened you enough for a day. Check back in tomorrow, yeah”, you say with a smile while waving your hand carrying the empty bottle of tequila and heading back to your room. Your servants followed you close behind, making sure you didn’t trip over any of the steps on the way.

You woke early the next morning and had your servants take you to the training area. You started with a good amount of stretches as you tried to calm your mind. Currently, your goal was to play along with Lord Spooky, so you could minimize your interactions with him. Life here was probably going to be lonely, but you were supposed to start actually training as one of Sukuna’s guards in a few days. You honestly didn’t know what all that entailed. He already ruled most of the land and didn’t have any immediate enemies, so what was your purpose? Uraume was basically his personal secretary and Geto traveled to deal with diplomatic issues.

You moved your body into a handstand as you continued to ponder. Would you continue your job as an assassin and kill those who defied him? That was the only real guess you had, because why else would he need you? He didn’t know about your blood when he first met you, so you doubted you were called to be a refillable potion for him. Did he know about your ability to enter people’s minds? Were you here to get inside people’s heads and find out just how loyal they were? To weed out potential traders before they even have a chance to act? You had absolutely no idea and this train of thought had obviously derailed from the calming track on the spiraling one.

You took in a deep breath as you continued to hold yourself upside down. You thought about your time with the Mother. She was way more cruel than he was, but she had a right to be cocky. She could wipe anyone off the face of the earth with just a thought. She is as old as time and could outsmart any creature. So why you? This wasn’t the first time you had asked yourself this question. You had no idea why she spared you and you don’t think she really did either. She would always just say curiosity and leave it at that. You wondered if you were making her proud with this decision. You knew that curses had been on the rise ever since you started working and that the ones you created were vastly different than hers or the ones organically created, but it didn’t feel like enough. Maybe that’s why you chose to serve Sukuna. He had obviously been gifted when it came to cursed energy and was cruel like Mother, like you too in a lot of ways. Deep down you are hoping he will show you the path to making Mother proud, but maybe it is just a lie you’re chasing down a rabbit hole.

You let out a sigh as you stood up from your position, shaking out your wrists and rolling your neck. You hated how lost you felt in your own thoughts, so you decided to stop thinking all together as you tapped into your energy. You could feel it expand around you as your senses changed. You could feel the energy of everything around you in greater detail than before. You could see the faint life forces of the bugs around you, feel the energy of the wind that surged into your being, see all of the servants working on the shrine and the fear that possessed them to scrub until their hands cracked. An all too familiar presence crept closer to where you were. You knew they had been walking this way for quite some time, but also knew they had already sensed you, so running was obsolete. You stood at the edge of the training grounds barefoot. To most onlookers, it looked like all you were doing was standing there. But those who could see cursed energy, could see it very faintly drapsed across the area like a spider web made of mist. Letting you know everything going on down to the smallest detail. If you wanted you could enter someone’s mind or simply listen in on conversations happening behind closed doors. You could even pool your energy into an area and create a curse if you so felt the need.

Sukuna cleared his throat as he drew closer onto the field. “Good morning King Sukuna, my apologies. I didn’t realize you used the training grounds in the morning. I will leave you to it”, you said while bowing and turning to take your leave.

“I didn’t say you could leave, pet. Continue your training, it was in your stipulations after all”, he said while walking towards the center of the training ground.

You really didn’t want to stay, but you had no choice, so you decided to continue to work on your body control. You went from a push up, into a handstand, into a one handed handstand pushup, and then back down to repeat. The Mother had taught you that one of the most effective ways to truly control your cursed energy was by learning how to control your body. You worked in slow controlled movement, allowing your energy to run along your muscles like water.

Sweat began to form on your body and visibly swam down your muscles since the top you decided to work out in was the equivalent of a modest sports bra. It wrapped around your neck, curved down from there to over your boobs, before connecting with itself in the back. You hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but now that Sukuna was here, you felt a little exposed. It’s not that you were shy about your body, but you could feel his gaze wondering over to you. His type probably has smooth skin free of scarring and devoid of muscle like a doll. Not that his type mattered to you. Because it didn’t.

“What exactly are you training by doing that”, he probed from above you.

“A key to expanding your understanding and control over your cursed energy, is to feel the general energy within you body and how it flows. Understanding how it flows and being able to feel it at any given time allows you to guide it. Which allows you to enhance certain parts of your body at a second’s notice. If you add cursed energy to the regular energy, then the effectiveness multiplies, King Sukuna,” you said through steadier breaths than he expected. To him, the concentration looked like strain, like you were having a hard time when it actually sounded like you were doing nothing when you talked.

He got down beside you and started copying what you were doing, but let out a frustrated groan,”I don’t feel anything. It isn’t working.” You weren’t looking at him but he could see your lips twitch into a smile. Brat.

You stopped your cycle and knelt beside him, “I can show you how to do it, but it would require me to touch and look at you, King Sukuna”.

“Wow are you asking me permission to touch and look at me? I never thought I’d see the day,” and he wasn’t lying. Part of him loved you asking him permission, but the other missed your rudeness. He didn’t regret punishing you yesterday, but now he was worried you might start treating him like everyone else did.

“Yes, King Sukuna. I figured it would be in my best interest to start following more of the rules”.

You weren’t smiling at him, you weren’t trying to joke with him, you were talking to him with complete indifference. He didn’t realize you would be that upset over what happened. Your hand was obviously fine now, so why were you being so cold? “You have permission for both, but if you fail to teach me, I will punish you again.” He knew that probably wasn’t the best choice of words but it definitely sparked something within yours eyes. He watched as you bit the insides of your cheeks, obviously trying to withhold a shitty remark. He wanted to hear it, though.

You took a deep breathe and swallowed what you wanted to say, “I will do my best to please you, King Sukuna.” He even hated the way you said his name with respect. He liked the way played with the vowels before.

“First, you should take a really deep breath. Feel how it fills your lungs and provides your body with oxygen”. He watches as you take a deep breath and motion for him to do the same. With a slight eye roll over how stupid this feels, he follows suit. He can feel it enter through his nose and how the muscles in his body soak it up.

“The feeling is faint but that is how your energy feels when you focus on it. Now let’s start in a narrow pushup position”, you don’t move but motion for him to. He gets into position with all four of his arms on the ground. You tell him to slowly descend and really allow himself to feel how his muscles work. He starts going down, but doesn’t feel anything.

He groans again, “It still isn’t working. I am beginning to think you are just lying and I should shred your other hand.”

“You will not shred my fucking hand due to your lack of fucking patience to follow a simple direction. I am not lying and my teaching will work if you would just shut the hell up and listen”, you cleared your throat as you remembered you were supposed to stay composed, “King Sukuna. So please just listen and follow my instructions”.

There you were. He knew he was being annoying, but he had to find some way to get you to act like normal again. “Wow and here we were doing so good on manners”, he says while going back into position. He starts going down quicker than he was supposed to so you put your hand against his chest.

“You need to go slower than how I was. It is easier to feel the energy when your motions are so controlled it looks like you aren’t moving”, you say keeping your hands on his chest and guiding him down. He looks up at you while you do it and you know your face is a little pink. His chest is firm and warm. You wonder what it would feel like to lick and bite his muscles. His skin is softer than you would have imagined and he smells so good. He smells like jasmine and petrichor. It beckons you to pull his hair back and kiss down his neck before crawling into his grasp. You want to know what it would feel like to makeout with him while his other mouth sucks on one of your nipples. He has so many hands to make sure no part of you lacks attention. You quickly pull your thoughts out of your loins as you focus on his energy. You begin to see it flowing throughout his muscles and start tracing the patterns with your fingers.

He can feel the way your fingertips ghost over his skin as you continue to avoid eye contact with him. With how big you talk, he didn’t think you would get like this just from touching his bare chest. Not that he was really one to talk. The way you were ever so lightly touching him and staring at his body, occasionally meeting his stare, had him thinking all kinds of thoughts. He thought about how your skin tasted and felt against his tongue. He wondered about how your tongue tasted, how your cum tasted. How that snarky mouth would feel wrapped around his cock. He wanted to know if you could control your inside muscles like you’re showing him and milk him like he has never been milked. He wants to see the face you make when you cum and he wants to be the one you make it for. He wondered how it would feel to have you straddle him and lay against his chest as he stroked your hair. Stupid little thoughts really.

He was so caught up in them he almost didn’t feel the flow of his energy under your fingertips, “I can feel it now. I can feel the energy flowing through me.”

You clear your throat and remove your hands from him, “That’s good. Once you are confident you have pinpointed it, start moving at the speed I was through the motions”, you say while scooting away a bit to give him room.

He continues through the motions until he has it down. He does it for a few minutes before asking how to imbue it with cursed energy.

You tell him to stop and sit up. You bring yourself closer until your knees are touching and grab two of his hands, putting them in between your own. “I am going to put my cursed energy into the energy in your hands. I won’t let it travel any further from these two and you will be able to feel it. I just need to show you how it feels, because it isn’t a process I can explain since everyone’s energy is a little different. But once you feel mine moving with your natural energy, your body should be able to figure out how to do it.”

“An inch past my hands and my other two will snap your neck, okay?”

You can’t help but smile and roll your eyes a little, “that is fair.”

You hold his hands and close your eyes as you focus on releasing a sliver of your energy into his fingers and through his palms. He watches you closely, the way your eyes flutter under your lids as you concentrate, the way your lips and chest move in sync with your breathing. He doesn’t know what he is feeling or why, but it isn’t not nice. He almost never wants this moment to end, but then he feels it. He has added cursed energy to his body before but it has never felt so connected. It is like he can feel every fiber of his being, control every atom. His own cursed energy wraps around yours, making you shiver slightly, before letting go of his hands. Your energy leaves with you and his continues to race from his hands throughout his whole body.

“This…this is incredible. I feel like I am actually alive for the first time”, he says in a quiet tone for only you two to hear.

“I am glad I could help, King Sukuna.” You get up and dust yourself off. “I think it is about time for me to wash this sweat off, though,” you say as you begin walking towards your quarters.

“Will you train in the morning again tomorrow,” he asks to what seems to be to both of your shocks. He didn’t even realize the words were coming out until they were spoken. What were you doing to him? Earlier, he wanted to tear you limb from limb, and now he wanted to never stop being touched like how you just did.

“Do you want me to?”

“What you do matters little to me”, he says in a very disinterested tone as he gets up and tries to regain his composure.

“I will be.”

“I said it didn’t matter. Now stop looking at me and speaking so casually, brat”, he retorts as he starts doing the training he originally came to do.

“Yes, King Sukuna”, you say with a small grin as you bow before leaving the training grounds.

Crazy. You were going to drive each other absolutely crazy one way or another.

Notes: this one is a bit shorter than the last but the next one will probably be quite long and will most definitely have them fucking. I hope you all enjoyed it ;) some more notes about this chapter

- Geto didn’t like the reader previously because he didn’t believe in the rumor he had heard like the King. He believed they were just an alcoholic with a knack for spreading lies. This is why he had so much hate for them in the beginning. He opens up to the idea of liking them when they practically managed to kick his head off without him even being able to react. This also makes it easier to laugh at their shitty jokes since he isn’t in such a mood over being near them anymore. When they come out in the garb he prefers to see women in he is shook. He knew that they had attractive features but he didn’t think they were his kind of attractive. The he watched them mouth off to Sukuna (something he has always wanted to do) and live?? And keep up with his attacks and literally stun all three of them?? Yea, he was kinda like damn I didn’t know you got down like that. He is by no means in love with them but he wouldn’t be against a good fuck. He is okay with being friends though as they keep things interesting.

- Sukuna fucking hates the reader and wants to annihilate them. But also hold them against his chest and brush their hair. He wants to show them levels of pain they didn’t know possible. But also wants to be the one to comfort them and make them feel better. He doesn’t love the reader, but also wants to be around them for more than just sex or power. He doesn’t understand why he is drawn to them and doesn’t want to kill them, but it has been happening since before they arrived. Mans had someone stalking them for quite some time. He hates how they mouth off and disrespect him, but also hates when they don’t. He will hurt them for not being able to keep up with his ever changing whims and then comfort them while telling them to be better from no on. Is it toxic? Duh, it’s Sukuna babes. He is not a soft or even reasonable lover… yet anyway. Who knows where they’ll end up.

- The reader was aware of someone stalking her but anytime they noticed them, their energy immediately disappeared. They have had many people watch them and plan to attack them in the past and they slaughtered all so they didn’t think too much about it. She has the same emotional conflict as Sukuna. There is obvious sexual attraction, but also he is a complete asshole, but so sweet sometimes. She is no saint, nor is she fragile, so maybe she deserves that kind of love. She can always dish it back out if she chose. Sukuna would secretly love it because no one has ever been able to truly hurt him. But realistically they are two kids that were dropped on their heads into cursed energy apparently. Born to be monsters, but who knows if that will be all their legacies leave.

Taglist: @missroro

[therainroguefanfiction]

Somewhere to Belong (Goku)

Genre: Family, Angst, Drama

Word Count: 3,499

Pairing: Reader, Father! Goku

World: Dragonball Z

Lyrics: "Somewhere I Belong", Linkin Park

- Author's Note: So, I was really obsessed with trying to start series based around Linkin Park lyrics when I was younger lmao This is another 'series' I started but only got one chapter in. It was riddled with mistakes and errors and is probably hard to read, but I did my best to edit it so it could be posted. I've never liked Chi Chi, she annoys the piss out of me, so she is the villain of this story *shrug* Keep in mind that I was an angsty teen when I wrote this so I'm sure the writing reflects that.

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When this began, I had nothing to say. And I'd get lost in the nothingness inside of me.

You sighed deeply as you sat atop an abandoned building just outside the city. It was about six-thirty in the afternoon and the sky was covered with grey clouds, making the day seem darker than normal. The October air was chilly as colored leaves fell from the tall trees. You didn't want to go home to be yelled at by your stepmother, Chi Chi, about skipping school again nor did you want to get disapproving looks from your older brother, Gohan. You would much rather sit there in the cold, biding your time until it decided to rain and wash your troubles and stress away.

You could feel Tien's energy coming your way, which you were thankful for. You met up with Tien almost every day in order to meditate with him, to learn to control the anger and frustration you held deep inside of you. It has helped you a lot but, lately, you think the effect is beginning to wear off.

Your anger has doubled because of your special abilities. Not only are you half-saiyan, but whoever your mother had been, she had strange abilities that you have inherited; the power to create and control fire. Because of this and your lack of control, you always get horrified looks from everyone, even your own family. It's like you're a disease so you avoid everyone at all costs, mainly your father, Goku. Vegeta seems to be the only one impressed by your power while Piccolo and Tien are the only ones that act unafraid and help you learn to control it instead of letting it control you.

Tien landed beside you just as it started to rain, the drops cold as they hit your skin. "We're not gonna meditate today. I have to take care of a few things."

You shrugged, pulling yourself to your feet. "Sure, sure. I think it's starting to wear off anyway."

He hummed, folding his arms over his chest. "No, your anger is just getting deeper."

You scoffed, kicking an invisible rock. "It's not my fault everyone pisses me off."

"What am I going do with you, kiddo?" He sighed, shaking his head.

"I'm not a kid," you muttered.

"I have to go now. Stay out of trouble." He patted your head before taking off.

You felt your spirits drop further. Now you'd have to go home early and deal with Chi Chi's glares and yelling, along with Gohan's disappointed glances, neither of which sounded fun to you. You took your time in making your way back to the house and, after taking a few deep breaths, opened the door and stepped inside. You could hear Chi Chi banging around the kitchen, making dinner for when Goku got home from training so you snuck past the kitchen and bolted up the stairs, shutting your door as quietly as possible.

'I guess luck is on my side today after all,' you thought with a grin, turning around to plop down onto your bed but someone was already there. You felt a smile creep onto your face as you looked down at your baby brother, Goten, who was sleeping peacefully on top of the comforter. Rainy days always made him tired and since Chi Chi wouldn't let Trunks come over, he had nothing better to do than to sleep.

You sat at your desk, resting your head on your folded arms and staring out the window as the rain pelted the glass. You must have sat there, zoned out, for a few hours because Gohan's voice appeared at your door. You turned around to look at him, but he refused to meet your gaze.

"I knocked, but you didn't answer." He paused, walking over to Goten and shaking him awake. "Dinner's ready."

Goten shot up, smiled brightly, and ran from the room. Gohan stopped in the doorway, looking at you expectantly, but your gaze was back on the window. You could feel his gaze on you.

"I'm not hungry."

He sighed deeply before leaving you to your thoughts, shutting the door behind him. A few minutes later and you could hear them all laughing and talking with each other, just like a family should. It cut you deeper than you wanted to admit, knowing that they were better off without you in their lives. You were the black sheep, the one who always skipped school, got into fights, back talked, broke rules, and never listened to a damn thing anyone told you. You're the bad seed, the one they could do without in their lives.

Though, it made sense, you supposed. You were the product of Goku's infidelity, the thing that almost broke apart their perfect little family. Your own mother didn't want you so you had been forced onto Chi Chi and her children. You had become the black duck in the flock of swans and it made you wonder if it was time for you to move on and forge your own path.

There was a knock on the door and you held back a sigh.

Goku didn't wait for an answer, he never did. "You should come get something to eat. You're still growing, after all!"

"I'm not hungry," you murmured, gaze never leaving the window.

He sighed, leaning his hip against the desk. "You haven't eaten in three days. You need to eat something, no matter how small."

After waiting a few minutes for a reply and getting none, he sighed again and left the room.

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You sat in the kitchen drinking a glass of orange juice when Chi Chi came down the stairs, giving you a glare as soon as she saw you.

"I got a call from the school," she stated as she made herself a cup of coffee. "You skipped again."

You just shrugged. "It's not a big deal."

"Not a big deal?" she echoed, turning around to face you. "You've already missed half the school year! And you're failing every class!"

You rolled your eyes, standing up to leave the room because you knew if you responded, you'd only add fuel to the fire. You went to leave the room but she grabbed your arm, pulling you around to face her. What happened next shocked you.

She raised her hand before bringing it across your cheek. Your head turned to the side, eyes staring at the floor in shock. Your cheek stung and you could feel the red hand print on your skin glowing brightly. "You will not turn away from me when I'm trying to talk to you!" she hissed. "I'm tired of you acting like a spoiled brat!"

Goku walked into the kitchen smiling brightly and Chi Chi's grip on your arm loosened. His face fell, looking between you and Chi Chi before finally resting on your cheek. Thanks to the distraction, you managed to break free, running from the house and toward Orange Star High School. You had never been more thankful for school before in your life. Of course, everyone whispered and pointed as you walked into the classroom, taking a seat at the back.

Gohan did a double take when he walked in, staring at your deep red cheek in confusion. Only when the teacher cleared her throat did he sit down, still glancing over his shoulder every few minutes as if to check that you were still there.

You rolled your eyes, resting your head on the cold surface of the desk. It felt nice to your burning cheek and you spaced out again, wondering why you even needed to be there. Someone like you didn't need such things to survive. All you needed to know how to do was fight and fish, both of which you were already very skilled at. With that in mind, if you could take care of yourself, then why bother staying at that house with them any longer? They'd be happier if you weren't there anyway.

'That's easy,' you thought. 'I can't bring myself to leave because I do love my dad and my brothers... maybe even Chi Chi a little bit.'

The bell finally rang, shaking you from your thoughts. You rose slowly, walking out of the room. It didn't take long for Goku to catch up to you, grabbing your arm and pulling you off to the side, away from the gossiping students. "What happened?" he asked, his voice low as he reached up to touch your cheek. You flinched away from his warm touch and he drew his hand back.

"If you want to know so bad," you muttered, avoiding his gaze. "Then why not ask your mom?"

He looked shocked, his face holding a look as if to say 'you're lying mother would never do such a thing.'

You scoffed before turning on your heel and leaving the school, taking to the sky the second your feet hit the pavement. It was weird. You could fly whenever you wished, soar through the sky and yet, you still felt trapped. You felt like a caged bird. The bird has his wings and can fly fine, but he's still caged and try as he might, he cannot escape. That's the position you were in and you hated it.

You flew around for hours, finally finding a secluded spot deep in the heart of the forest that not many people knew about. A tall waterfall, at least ten feet tall, was running down the jagged rocks into a small pond below. This was where you usually went to meditate when you were alone. You sat on the ground, legs crossed beneath you and the palms of your hands touching each other as you held them in front of you. You took a deep breath before letting it out slowly and clearing your mind. You were breathing in deeply, taking in the smell of the trees and the grass, the water and the rocks. You didn't think of the sadness you usually felt tugging at your heart nor of your older brother who you longed to understand your side. Your mind kept straying to Goku, though, who you wished to be close to but you forced it back, deep into the corner of your mind where it couldn't interfere with your heart, your mind.

You sat there for hours and it was dark by the time you finally opened your eyes. The black sky was filled with small twinkling stars. It would be easy to sneak into the house without question. They'd all be asleep by now, opposed to the daytime when they bustled about the house. You flew up to your window and climbed inside, leaving it open as you climbed into bed without changing. You wanted desperately to be taken into the realm of dreams, where everything went your way and you had no worries, troubles, or sadness. You smiled as the blackness took over and you found yourself sleeping peacefully.

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Your eyes opened slowly, blinking a few times to adjust to the sunlight shining brightly through the open window. It was a nice idea, leaving it open at night, until morning broke and then it turned into a bad idea. You sat up, looking over at the clock whose bright red numbers indicated it was 9:30 in the morning. Sliding out of bed, you grabbed a pair and of clothes and headed to the bathroom to shower. How you managed to wake up at 9:30 on a Saturday, you'll never know.

After showering and changing, you walked into the kitchen to grab a soda from the fridge. When you turned back around, Chi Chi was standing there glaring at you, her hands on her hips and her foot tapping against the ground impatiently. "Your punishment for yesterday is for you to take Goten over to Bulma's and do whatever the two boys want you to do for the entire day."

You rolled your eyes, mumbled a whatever and walked back up the stairs, knocking on Goten's door. He appeared a few minutes later, dressed and ready. "Come on," you told him, walking back down the stairs and out of the house. Goten ran behind you, jumping on your back and wrapping his arms around your neck.

"What are we doing today?"

"Whatever you want."

He grinned as you appeared in front of Bulma's house and knocked on the door impatiently. The door opened to reveal Bulma, a smile on her face. "Trunks is getting ready. You're welcome to wait inside."

Goten nodded and ran in the house, up the stairs, and into Trunks' room.

"Coming?" she smiled kindly at you.

You slowly nodded, slipping past her and into the house.

"Make yourself at home," she told you before stepping into the kitchen.

You walked over and sat down on the couch, next to Vegeta who was glaring at the TV.

"This is your punishment?" he grunted. "Babysitting your own brother?"

You nodded, resting your left ankle on your right knee, hands in the pockets of your black jacket. "Grounding me never worked, nor has taking things from me. This is the only 'punishment' she could come up with. Though, I have no problem with spending time with the two."

He stared at you for a few minutes before looking away at the sound of four rushed footsteps coming down the stairs.

You stood as Trunks ran to you, his small arms hugging you as tight as he could. "You'll really take us anywhere we want?!"

You nodded, hugging him back with a smile. "Anywhere."

He grinned brightly before running out of the house, Goten at his heels.

"We'll be back around dark," you called as you stepped out of the house after the duo.

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You spent most of the day at an amusement park, a few towns down. It was just after ten-thirty by the time you and Goten returned after dropping off Trunks. Chi Chi was standing in the living room, looking angry. "Where have you been? I've been worried sick! Are you alright Goten?" She kneeled down to inspect him.

"I'm fine, mom," he whined, pulling away from her.

"Well?" She demanded as she stood back up. "Where have you been?"

"You told me to do whatever they wanted," you shrugged her off, looking at a painting that hung on the wall behind her.

She clenched her fists. "I also told you to be back by eight o'clock!"

"No, you didn't," you told her blankly.

"Are you calling me a liar?"

You shrugged, muttering, "If the shoe fits..."

She growled in anger, bringing her hand down so fast you didn't have time to react. She slapped you again. Blood oozed out from the deep scratch she left on your cheek, made by the large, gaudy ring she had chosen to wear. Goten gasped in horror, grabbing onto your leg.

"Chi Chi - !" Goku had come down the stairs, just as she raised her hand.

Chi Chi's face screwed up in horror before turning around and running into Goku's arms, tears streaming down her face. "Oh, Goku! I didn't want to hit Y/N but she was calling me a liar and a bad mother for worrying about Goten!"

You rolled your eyes at her theatrics but kept your mouth shut, knowing it didn't matter what you did or said, it wouldn't change things. If anything, it would just make things worse.

Goten gasped again, stepping forward. "B-But, that's not true, mommy! She didn't say that!"

Chi Chi wept louder. "Now she's turned my own son against me!"

Gohan came down a few seconds later to find out what the noise was about but stopped when he saw the blood running down your cheek and the imprint of a hand against your skin. Goku didn't know what to do, it seemed. He just stood there, staring at you as if waiting to hear your side but you weren't interested. You pushed Goten gently away from you and pushed past Gohan and Goku, going up the stairs and into your room. You walked straight over to the open window as it started raining. With a sigh, you settled on the floor, leaning your arms on the window sill, the rain touching your skin every time the wind blew. The stinging in your cheek had disappeared only to be replaced by a throbbing pain.

'She's getting more courage,' you thought. 'She used to be afraid to hit me. Now, she's managed it twice within fourty-eight hours. Perhaps it was her way of telling me to get out, without letting Goku know.' You chuckled softly. 'Not like it would matter much.'

You felt a hand on your shoulder and you opened your eyes slowly, looking into Goten's concerned face. He had a small towel in his hands, wet, and pressed it to your cheek. You winced slightly and he apologized, putting a bit more pressure on the cut. It was silent between you for a few minutes before Goten spoke up. "Y/N?" "Hm?" You had gone back to looking out the window.

"Why did mommy do that?" His voice was small and his eyes lingered on the floor. "Why would she hit you? And then lie about it?"

You chuckled, pulling the towel away from your face. He looked up at you, a mixture of sadness and pain in his eyes. "Let me know when you figure it out, kid." You answered, ruffling his hair.

He stared at you for a minute before shaking his head and hugging you tightly around the waist, his head resting on your chest. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close as you held back tears. He probably didn't realize it, but he was offering you so much comfort at that moment, comfort that you didn't realize you had needed.

"It's not the first time, is it?" he murmured quietly.

You were silent for a long moment. "No... it's not."

"Why haven't you told daddy?"

You chuckled again, the sound bitter even to his young ears. "He wouldn't believe me if I did. Gohan didn't."

"Gohan knew?" Goten gasped.

You didn't reply, leaning your head against the wall beside the window.

Goten started to cry, clutching your shirt for dear life. "I-I'm s-so sorry!"

You smiled softly, fighting back tears as they stung at your eyes. "Don't be sorry, kiddo. It's not your fault."

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Goku stood outside your door, his hands trembling and eyes wide as his brain tried to register what he had just heard. How long has she been hitting you? And Gohan knew about this but didn't say anything? What the hell was happening to his family? He felt like a fool. He should have know about this, he should have been protecting his daughter.

He flew downstairs where Gohan and Chi Chi were sitting on the couch. He was determined to get answers. "Gohan, you knew Y/N was being hit?"

Gohan bit his lip, looking guiltily at his feet. "No, not exactly... Y/N mentioned it at school, telling me to ask mom but I didn't know how to bring it up..."

Goku shook his head in disbelief, eyes narrowing at his wife as she sobbed into her hands. "You've hit her before, many times, haven't you?"

"Only when Y/N gave me a reason to!" Chi Chi choked, looking pleadingly at her husband. "You don't understand what it's like to deal with them. They're a monster!"

Goku's fists clenched at his sides. "Y/N is not a monster. I don't care what she did or said, you have no right to hit your own child."

"Y/N is not my child!" She snapped angrily as she jumped off the couch, stabbing her finger into his chest. "You act like I'm the bad guy here, but you cheated on me, Goku, and then you expect me to raise the spawn of that affair? Y/N has never been my child and she never will be!"

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. The two of them had a long conversation after his mistake and he was sure it was behind them. She agreed to accept you into their lives, to raise you as if you were her own child and she never once complained about it. He thought his family was whole and happy. How could this have happened right under his own nose?

"I can't look at you right now," he muttered, turning on his heel and heading up the stairs. He wanted to talk to you, to apologize for being a terrible father and to apologize for the suffering you've faced because of his mistake, but when he walked into your room, Goten was sleeping peacefully on the bed but you were nowhere to be found. The window was open, the wind blowing the curtains wildly as the storm kicked up. A sinking feeling settled in the pit of his stomach.

You were gone.

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[yourloverfromthepast]

𝒜 𝒩𝐸𝒲 𝐿𝐼𝐹𝐸

𝑵𝒐𝒘 𝒍𝒐𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈...

SUMMARY: You just moved to New York City after you’ve been offered a somehwat peculiar job. Finally, you feel that this is the right occasion to change your life and move on, but soon you will realize that your ghosts of the past never really disappeared as you thought. 

PAIRINGS: The Avengers x F!reader - Bucky Barnes x F!Reader - Matt Murdock x F! Reader 

WORD COUNT: 1000

WARNINGS: just some cursing...for now👀 (yes bestie, I’m writing this mainly for you; don't worry, you'll see some smut in the future *wink wink*)

𝑷𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒊𝒕...

AUTHOR’S NOTE: hi guys! So, to make it short, this is my first time writing something like this, and I literally wrote the story while listening to Lana Del Rey and the Euphoria soundtrack, lmao. I apologize in advance if while reading you’ll find some mistakes, unfortunately English is not my first language, but I’ll still do my best to write this as clear and comprehensible as possible. i know it’s very short, but first I wanted to have a feedback from someone before really putting myself into it. I just hope you’ll like it and...let me know what you think. Enjoy! 

CHAPTER 2 HERE!

𝑫𝑶𝑾𝑵𝑳𝑶𝑨𝑫 𝑪𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑳𝑬𝑻𝑬! 100%

You didn’t sleep that night. Of course you didn’t. How could you? You were too excited - and to be honest also a bit scared - to meet your new colleagues the next day to even TRY to sleep. After all, you’ve always admired them: The Avengers.

Exactly. The Avengers. The team of superheroes where a Russian spy, a Germanic god, a man with anger issues, Robin Hood, a man with a flying armor, the most patriotic thing you’ve ever seen, and their friends, were protecting the world from any danger. You couldn’t understand how Tony Stark, the Iron Man himself, noticed and picked YOU to become a new member of the group, but obviously you would have never been against all of that. On the contrary, you had hoped for a quite long time to be seen from at least one of the members, but you still were too confused to figure out how he discovered you. 

4.00 AM

You raised your head to look at the bright red time that your alarm clock was projecting onto the ceiling.

‘‘Fffuuuuck’’ you yelled exasperated into the pillow. You perfectly knew how big and dark your eye bags would have been for the rest of the day, but for as much as you tried, you simply couldn’t sleep. ‘‘Ok, screw it. I give up’’. With all the energy you had in your body, you jumped up from the double bed. You put your phone on charge - since you used it all night ‘‘to try to sleep’’ - took a bunch of beauty products such as body lotion, and some face masks, you undressed, and entered the shower. At that moment, you just wanted to take care of yourself, something you hadn’t done in months, after what happened.

‘‘Y/n?’’

‘‘Y/n, is that you?’’

‘‘Y/n!’’

You immediately opened your eyes, finding yourself sitting in the shower, shivering and breathing as if you had been forced to hold your breath for your entire life. You sighed. ‘‘It was a dream...just...a fucking dream’’. The water flowing over your tense body and its temperature relaxed you; it made you feel pampered as if wrapped in a warm hug, and you fell asleep for about fifteen or twenty minutes.

You showered as fast as possible. The silence of the night and the sound of the water echoing in that small room were killing you. That damned feeling reminded you of him... Out of the tub, you looked at yourself in the mirror. You tried to hold your breath to avoid crying, but it was stronger than you expected, and finally, you broke out.

‘‘I’m sorry...’’ you said sobbing and crouching in front of the sink. Hot tears running down your cheeks and falling to the floor.

‘‘I am so sorry...’’ 

After what you thought would have been an eternity spent crying, you washed your face. For some strange reason, you loved the feeling of hot - almost boiling - water on your face. You looked once again at yourself in the mirror and smiled. You realized you were finally ready to move on. You knew you were finally ready to start a new life.

7.00 AM

You were trembling, sitting on the couch waiting. You didn’t know exactly what you were waiting for, but you were there. First, looking at your phone; then at the door; then out the window and your phone again. You almost had a heart attack when you heard the ringtone. You panicked. ‘‘SHIT- oh my god, oh my god, OH MY GOD!’’ Running towards the table you picked up the phone and answered the call.

‘‘Y-yes?’’

‘‘Good morning kiddo! Already awake?’’

‘‘Uuhm...who- who is this?’’

‘‘Oh c’mon! You’re telling me you never saved my number?’’

‘‘You never gave her your number Tony..’’ continued a feminine voice.

‘‘Hm, you’re right...WELL, it doesn’t matter. Let’s start again. Hi kiddo, I’m the genius, billionaire, playboy, and philanthropist Tony Stark, also known as Iron Man. Do you remember?’’ Fuck. It was him.

‘‘Oh crap- y-yeah! Of course I do! Uuhm, h-hi sir Stark!’’ you said with a shaking voice. 

‘‘Ahahahaha ‘sir Stark’, I kinda like that... Wow, you really are a genius kid. You could be an example for the others. Hey guys! Have you heard it? You should start to call me ‘Sir Stark’ too! After all, you need to show me some respect! I sacrificed myself to save the world from a bunch of intergalactic aliens, y’know!’’

‘‘Oh my- TONY! Just- gimme the phone’’ the same feminine voice of before interrupted him. ‘‘Hi darling, how are you? I’m Natasha, but you can just call me Nat, nice to meet you. Well, since we have no time, I just wanted to inform you: around 8:30 a black car will park right in front of your condominium. Don’t worry, it will just be our agent Phil ready to pick you up and bring you here! When you will arrive we’ll just finish the introductions. See you later then!’’ and she hanged up.

You looked at the clock. You had an hour to calm yourself down and rehearse your speech. Perfect.

‘‘Ok, so..*cough cough* Hi guys! I’m y/n, nice to meet you!’’

...

‘‘Oh my fucking god, NO, what the fuck is this!?! What am I?? A fucking toddler?? Man, this will be more difficult than I expected. Pleeeease dear god, I need your help!’’ you said throwing your head back and shutting your eyes, when suddenly, an idea flashed into your head. You slowly reopened your eyes and ran to your bedroom. Standing in front of the night table, you bent down and opened its third drawer just to take out a pair of reddish, round sunglasses. You looked out the window. It was a sunny hot day. You gave them another look.

‘‘Perfect’’ you said smiling.

You put the glasses on and walked over to the large mirror in the corner of the room.

‘‘These will surely bring me some luck. Thank you babe, I love you’’

[twoidiotwriters1]

Copycat: Cryptomnesia —(Marvel Fem!Oc)

A/N: Hope you guys had a nice Christmas! I just realized the chapters lined up with the holidays that is so cool lmao -Danny

Words: 2,155

Phase Five Masterlist

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Listen to: ‘skinny dipping’ -by Sabrina Carpenter

xxii: A Christmas Miracle

The moment Cat got rid of the last man standing —without killing him— she saw the Christmas tree falling into the ice rink.

"Kate, you had one job!"

"I got it done, didn't I?"

"We do not destroy more than necessary!"

"Now you care about a dumb tree? Who are you and what did you do to Copycat?"

"This is Copycat!" She exclaimed. "I was sloppy Cat before!"

"Guys, while I'm glad to hear C.C.'s finally behaving like an adult, I am surrounded by a bunch of armed men, so if you could hurry..."

Cat teleported and Kate ran towards her, she put her arms around Cat's neck and both appeared next to Clint on the ice rink. Kate shot several smoke arrows, but it wasn't enough.

"We're too exposed, let's go!" Clint shot a magnetic arrow at one of the poles surrounding the rink and urged them to hide behind the fallen tree. "That should hold them off for a bit..."

He took off the shirt he was wearing to reveal a suit identical to Kate's.

"Oh, my God, you wore it!" Kate beamed.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah—"

"Oh, my God, it looks so good, I told you!" Cat couldn't help but think her excitement was cute.

"Listen to me," Clint insisted. "We need to get off this ice, okay? The only way off this ice is up those stairs."

"Great," Kate groaned, looking at all the men. They were recovering from the beating Cat had inflicted. "There's only about a thousand of them and three of us."

"I count for at least three," Cat frowned, she was upset about how quickly the men had recovered, but if she was planning not to kill anyone when working with heroes, she had to get used to it.

"Here, take these," Clint grabbed a bunch of his arrows and placed them inside Kate's holder.

"No way!" Kate gasped. "Is it time?"

"It's time."

Kate looked at her looking for double confirmation, Cat shrugged.

"The only way to be ready is to get out there and do it. Welcome to the Avengers, Princess Bishop."

The girl gave her a winning, beautiful smile.

"All right, girls," Clint grabbed an arrow, he smiled at them. "Let's give 'em hell."

Cat ran, jumped, and teleported around the rink to take down as many people as she could. She used her spear and thought of how convenient it'd be if she could split it in two like Daredevil's baton.

"Kate! Your mom just came out of the side door!" One of their larpers announced.

"Copy," Clint replied.

"Yeah?" Cat showed up next to him.

He gave a start. "I wasn't talking to you! I said copy as in we heard it!"

"Oh!" Cat pouted. "Yeah, this happens. Spider-man used to say 'beep-beep' instead of copy so I wouldn't get confused."

"Like the roadrunner?" Kate smiled. "That's so cute. He sounds like a fun guy."

"He's sloppy like you," Cat pointed at the Christmas tree. "Go find your mom."

"I, uh... can you come with me?"

"Why?"

"We're partners, Copy."

Cat hummed. "Yeah okay, let's—"

A gunshot interrupted her, behind them, on the opposite side of the rink, Kazi was holding a gun and he had two guys standing on each side of him.

"Just go," Clint told them. Kate obeyed, but Cat rush back to his side. "Cat—"

"I'll catch up with Kate, this will be quick," she raised a brow. "Or are you too slow?"

Clint picked up an arrow, shot it, and the projectile was divided in three. Kazi caught the one directed at him, but the remaining two got the other men in the chest.

"Nice shot!" Kazi shouted sarcastically.

"Yeah, no shit!" Clint looked at her. "You were saying?"

She snorted. "Guess you're not that old after all..."

Cat teleported, she pointed her watch at Kazi ready to shoot him tranquilizers, but before she could do it, Maya arrived in a byke and almost ran over her.

"Shit!" Cat jumped out of the way.

"You should've left, Maya!" Kazi signed, then spoke out loud. "You know what I have to do..."

The mutant watched the scene in silence from her place, none of them looked happy to be reunited. Maybe they would take each other out. With this in mind, she believed Kate needed her more than these two.

Unfortunately for her, Kingpin found the Bishops first. After making sure Kate's mom wasn't dead, Cat got inside the toyshop and stopped the man from hurting Kate. She tried to tase him, however, when the weapon came into contact with him, Cat realized he was wearing the same armor Matthew owned.

"Goddamit."

"Copycat," he groaned, fixing his shirt. "we meet at last."

"Last indeed, you're going back to prison," she replied.

Her claws jerked out and she aimed for his face, he lifted a fist that she scratched deeply, making him hiss in pain.

"I'm surprised," she extended her spear and enlarged the blades on each end. "None of you get my name right on their first try."

"I've heard a lot about you," Fisk said, stepping forward. Close action wasn't gonna help her with this guy, so she stepped back. "I've heard some interesting rumors... about who you're friends with."

He was surprisingly fast for a man his size. He seized her by the throat and lifted her off the ground. Cat tried to free herself, but she wasn't successful. She tried to use her spear to stab his side and he slapped it away, the weapon rolled across the floor.

"Where is Daredevil?" He growled.

Cat teleported out of his grip and landed behind him, she used her watch to shoot several tranquilizers at his back. The suit got ruined, but he was still standing.

"Are you made of cement?" She coughed in annoyance.

"So you can teleport, what else can you do?" He turned to face her, unbothered by her attempts to take him down. "Smyerdakov told us all kinds of stories..."

Cat straightened her posture and stared at him through the goggles. "What?"

"I don't want to kill you," he explained, and once again tried to approach her. "We're all trying to get you, and now you're here, so I'll get you before them. If what Billy said it's true, and the powerbroker sent you as a way to claim a territory that—"

"You guys are all so stupid," she said in exasperation. "Whatever that dumbass told all of you, she was lying and so was Smyerdakov. He underestimated my abilities and it got him killed."

"INCOMING!" Kate shouted unexpectedly.

When the arrows at Fisk's feet exploded, Cat teleported over to Kate, spreading her cape to cover both of them from the explosion.

The mutant moved a little, cupping Kate's face to examine it. "You okay? How many eyes are on my face?"

"Aren't you supposed to ask how many fingers am I seeing?" She mumbled, blinking off the dust from her eyes.

"Can't show you any fingers, I'm holding your face," Cat pushed her goggles away. "Mouse, check her vitals..."

"She's stable. Her mother might be in need of assistance, though."

Copycat pushed herself up and then helped Kate to her feet. "Let's go."

"What was that thing Kingpin said about you and a power-something?"

Cat's expression darkened. "I'll take care of that later."

She went back to Kingpin, crouched close to his face, and tilted it to the side with her claws. She shot four tranquilizers in line on his neck.

"That should keep him under control..." she hesitated, then shot one last dart. "Okay, now we can go."

Cat heard police cars approaching once they made sure Kate's mom was okay. "I have to check on Clint, he said he'd be here but he's not and Yelena's still out there..."

"Yeah, go ahead. I should talk to my mom alone, anyway," she eased her. "I'll see you in a few, yeah?"

She squeezed the girl's hand. "See you in a bit."

She found Yelena standing above Clint, ready to kill him. Cat landed next to him and was about to attack Yelena when he caught her ankle.

"Don't... it's okay..."

Yelena's expression was one of heartbreak, she wasn't trying to kill him.

"Lena?" Cat asked tentatively.

The blonde looked up at her in frustration. "It's not fair, that you got so much time with her."

"We did," Clint agreed weakly.

"It shouldn't have gone this way," Yelena's eyes got teary. "If I was there, I could have stopped it. I could have— I could have changed it."

"Nothing was gonna stop her, Yelena... you know Natasha," Clint replied. "She made her choice... We're gonna have to find a way to live with that."

The statement was as much for Cat as it was for Yelena. She'd claimed that her hurting would forever blind her, but somehow, she saw things clearer in what she could only call a Christmas miracle. After two whole years of mourning and guilt, a new perspective arose:

Her brother had been the fastest man alive, she knew how his powers worked. The day Pietro died, he hadn't rushed in trying to stop the spear, he was looking at her, making sure she was okay.

When Tony was dying, he didn't ask about Thanos, he asked about Peter and the Maximoff twins, cause all he wanted to know before leaving was if they were okay.

There was no point in inflicting all those punishments on her person, her friends hadn't died for her. Staying miserable was not a proper way to honor their sacrifices. Nothing could hurt them anymore, and it was up to her to continue their mission.

"I loved her so much..." Yelena sobbed.

Between doing things the way she wanted, and the way others thought was better, the key to a happy life was to choose kindness regardless of what she knew.

"You're not alone, Lena," she said gently. "You have the other widows, they're your sisters too... and you have us if you ever need help."

Yelena didn't speak, she approached slowly and offered a hand to Clint so he could stand. The two women helped him stand, and he placed his hand on Yelena's shoulder.

"I'm sorry."

The agent started to walk away, and Cat followed her.

"C.C..." Clint warned her, but she was quick to put his worries to rest.

"I'm making sure she gets out of here safe, that's all," she threw her spear and her taser at his feet. "I promise."

Yelena walked with her until they reached a quiet street, where the blonde stopped and glanced at the sky. Cat pushed the hood off her head and her mask disappeared, she inhaled the cold air, it stung her, but she didn't mind the feeling.

"Russo and Kingpin are not the only ones trying to find you," Yelena said at last.

"I guessed as much," she admitted, not even surprised to find out Yelena knew about it. "But the only way I'll work as a bag guy's minion is if they reach my price or kill all my friends... and the number both is pretty high."

"I didn't know it was a setup," Yelena revealed. "I found out at the same time as you. I couldn't warn you. I don't hate you, Z... but I saw how this life worked for my sister, and you can't change that."

Cat smiled a little, gazing at the sky. "I don't want anything to change. If I die fighting... it's a good way to go."

"Can I ask you something?"

"I'm listening."

"You grew up in a lab because of these people, all the bad things that'd happened to you, it's because of them... why help them?"

"My brother wanted a normal life," Cat looked back at Yelena. "He got what he wanted. Nat didn't want to live in half a universe, so she fixed it. Heroes don't have perfect lives, but most of their dreams come true in due time... you wanna know why I help them?"

Yelena just stared at her, so she continued.

"I thought I could fix my problems alone, but that's not what makes me good at what I do. It's who I become when I'm part of something. Having a soft place to land where I stumble, that's where my real power resides."

The agent hummed, looking up again. "You lived in space for a while, yes?"

"Three good years."

Yelena took a moment to form her question. "Was it pretty? The place where she died?"

Cat swallowed the lump in her throat. "Looked like a heaven."

The widow closed her eyes. "I won't tell Valentina you're Copycat, but this is the only time I'll cover for you."

"We can find a way to hide you, you don't have to go back to her—"

"I don't have a problem with what I'm doing, Z." She replied calmly. "If I need help I'll call you, but don't come uninvited."

"Alright," she knew this was as close as they'd get to becoming friends. "Take care, blondie."

"Don't die," the woman turned and started to walk away. "Don't waste my mercy."

She smiled and raised her voice. "Don't worry, Death doesn't want me around, she knows I'm insufferable."

Yelena stopped and spoke one last time, moving her head a little to the right. "Will you give me a tour around the city next time, or do I point a gun at your girlfriend's head to convince you?"

She tried not to laugh. "Okay. Stop threatening Kate's safety, she's not my girlfriend yet."

Next Chapter—>

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