#yo shout out to the middle series

[italoniponic]

#twisted wonderland #lilia vanrouge #cater diamond #kalim al asim #malleus draconia #mozus trein #cheka kingscholar #jack howl #vil schoenheit #idia shroud #sebek zigvolt #ortho shroud #rollo flamme #rook hunt #epel felmier #trey clover #twst memes #yo shout out to the middle series #cherry's mumbling about twst

[lilywastaken]

⇝ midnight .

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!AFAB!Reader.

PART ONE OF MÉNAGE.

SUMMARY: Simon makes the mistake of spending the night before one of the longest missions of his career in the arms of a woman he met at a pub, unaware of the consequences it would have on his life moving forward.

WARNINGS: AFAB!Fem!Reader (no use of Y/N!) NSFW [ Oral (F receiving), Degradation, Praising, size difference/kink, dacryphilia, dumbification, slight bondage, frottage, unprotected P in V, overstimulation, various orgasms, creampie.], Angst, Pregnancy, mentions of abortion, kind of OOC Simon? He’s just soft when he’s not Ghost, Canon typical violence.

A/N: My first COD fic! It also happens to be the longest piece of writing I've ever done 😵! This is the first part of a series I've been planning on writing for a while, so I'll hopefully get the second part out soon! Please don't forget to reblog/comment if you enjoy the fic, it helps a lot!!! Thanks for all the support!! <3

WORD COUNT: 10.1k.

MASTERLIST.

Also on Ao3!

Going out wasn't one of Ghost's favourite things to do.

Even after getting back to his tiny flat in Manchester following a horribly long mission and shedding his mask, going back to the burly man his neighbours knew as Simon, some random guy who had moved in a few years ago and seldom stepped outside except for the random smoking session some of them would see him having on his balcony; he didn't enjoy going out.

So when he finally was able to relax onto his shitty leather sofa and catch up with some of the footy games he had missed while away, all he wanted more than anything was a good whiskey in his favourite (cleanest) glass.

And almost like a cartoon character staring at their empty wallet, Simon stared ahead at his liquor cabinet, jaw clenched as he spied at the remaining drops of alcohol that were left in the bottle, remembering the mental note he had made before leaving his flat the last time to get himself the alcohol he had chugged down during one of his depressive episodes.

So, in a fit of anger, he shoved on whatever clean clothes he could find in his duffle bag, skull balaclava pulled over his messy hair, and stomped down the stairs to the nearest Tesco…

…only to find it closed.

And fuck him if he was going to walk the extra hour to the nearest Morrison's just to get some shitty whiskey bottle to drown his sorrows in. At this point, he'd just go and sit in a corner of a pub, nursing what he would hope would be an acceptable liquor.

He was absolutely pissed by the time he made it into the homey bar, the universe having decided to make it it's personal mission to fuck him up today and making the worst storm possible start to rain upon Manchester.

Oh, and of course, the pub's tables were all full of teenagers (who definitely had fake IDs, no way they were all 18), and some old geezers who were shouting at the football game on TV (great, Manchester was loosing, another thing to worsen his night), leaving the only available seat one in the middle of the bar next to some woman chatting amicably to the waiter, who seemed a bit more interested in her cleavage than in what she had to say.

He slipped into the seat silently, his clear eyes death-staring into the bartender's, immediately scaring him shitless ("Yer about ta kill me with that look, Lt." Johnny had once joked about his murderous gaze, and to be fair, Simon was slightly hoping the scot would combust and die right there.), no doubt believing that he was with the woman and was about to punch his teeth in for staring longer than he should have.

As he scurried off into the back, you turned to him, taken aback at first as you made eye contact with the towering, wet, balaclava-clad man who was staring back at you, but you were brave enough to smile kindly at him, going back to running your finger over the rim of your drink, which Simon noticed was still and hardly drank out of, despite the lipstick smudges around the top. You'd been here a while, and by the way your leg was nervously jumping up and down as time passed by, he could only assume you'd been stood up.

Now, Simon wasn't dumb, far from it; and Simon was smart enough to recognize when someone was attractive, and he was pretty sure that the woman in front of him was drop-dead gorgeous despite the sad look that adorned your features. So, if he was correct, he couldn't even begin to fathom how someone could even start to think of standing up a woman like you, especially after inviting her to this shitty pub, where the food had definitely given him food poisoning before.

He hadn't realised how deep in thought he must have been while staring at your glass until a soft hand rested against his bicep, eyes instantly flashing back towards yours, instincts haywire from having been pulled out from his thoughts so suddenly.

"Sorry!" You immediately retracted your hand from his arm, smiling apologetically up at him before turning your gaze back to the golden liquid. "I asked if you were okay. I can't imagine walking around in a storm with just that on." You gestured towards his shirt, allowing Simon to look down and stare at the tight T-shirt he had chosen to wear, a few dirt stains decorating it in the worst way possible, having dressed for the occasion that was a 10pm trip to Tesco and not meeting up with a pretty woman at a pub.

"Wasn't planning on walking 'round." He grumbled out, his voice deeper than what you had expected, the thick accent and scratchy sound of it making shivers run down your spine and heat pool into your stomach, becoming horrified with yourself that you allowed such a minimal thing like a masked man's voice get you all hot and flustered like this.

"'Nd you? Doesn't seem like you're dressed for a night out at the Crown's." His eyes moved towards your dress, surprised with himself that he had actively been the one to continue the conversation; his thick hand reaching over to grab his drink from the bartender's hand (which he must have ordered during the haze he had been in before.) as he awaited your answer.

"Oh." He watched you smooth down your hair out from the corner of his eye, your hands shaky as they found comfort around the fancy glass of your whiskey. Or was it bourbon? Maybe rum? You seemed like the type of woman to appreciate a good glass of liquor. "Yeah, 'm waiting for someone."

He watched your eyes dart over to the clock hanging on the wall opposite you both, the little hand nearing the number 11.

"Could've taken you somewhere nicer." He commented, taking a jab at both the pub and your missing date, the small breathless chuckle that left your lips catching his attention.

"Yeah. Not like I expected a reservation at the Ritz, but somewhere that doesn't look like my grandad's favourite pub would be nice." You joked over the sound of some of the old men cheering in the background over some team scoring a goal, and while Simon would've normally turned around to make sure it had been Manchester, he was too focused on the mesmerising way your eyes looked in the dim light, your eyelashes fluttering innocently as you continued what had started as small talk, that evolved into friendly conversation and him buying you another drink, and that ended with him waiting for you outside the bathrooms, holding onto your tiny umbrella.

Simon wasn't one to frequent in hook-ups, but how enticing you had been when talking to him, the way your body looked in that dress and how you'd brushed your soft hand against his bicep (this time with another intent other than to snap him out of his stupor), had left him wanting, nay, craving more from you.

So when you looked out the window behind him before gesturing to the small umbrella hanging from your bag and asked if he wanted to take you home, he would have been demented to deny you.

His screen's brightness lit up his face as he scrolled over the scarce messages he had received across the almost 10 years he had had this crappy phone, about to delete Soap's number before you came out, a smile on your face and makeup freshly applied.

"Some girls helped me with my makeup in there." You commented happily, fingertips brushing over the blush that had been applied to the apples of your cheeks, which made you somehow look even more enticing than before. "I didn't have time to look in the mirror, but I hope it looks okay."

"Looks nice on you." He let out after processing your new look, his chest tightening as your smile somehow widened and your eyes brightened, having learned across the few hours you had spent together that Simon wasn't really one to show his emotions towards anyone, so a short compliment like that was a big step.

"You think?" You didn't wait for an answer, your hand finding his and starting to lead him out of the shadowy corner he had taken refuge in while your time in the bathroom, letting him push open the exit door so he could open up the umbrella, not caring about the raindrops falling onto him and darkening his clothes, the rain getting caught onto his eyelashes like morning dew on a spiders web, the beautiful orbs drawing you in like a butterfly happily flying into a spider's nest.

The umbrella was open and poised on top of you before you could even step out of the pub, Simon doing his best so you wouldn't be touched by the rain, aware of how uncomfortable some people got when it came to water running down your back or touching your face (especially when you looked so so pretty with your make-up.). Along with his massive frame walking next to you, you were pretty sure there was no way a single drop of water would touch your skin the whole way back home.

Which ended up being almost silent, you leading the way and commenting on random stores or things you passed, brightening up every time you got a chuckle out of him and melting whenever his hand would wrap around your waist as you passed some creepy man or a suspicious-looking group of teens, pulling you into his side so no one would even think of messing with you.

You were highly aware of how dangerous it was in hindsight to take some random man home (whose face you hadn't even seen yet!), but Simon made you feel safe, special, in some weird way… like as long as you were in his vicinity, nothing could happen to you, nothing could harm you. And you wanted to cling onto that feeling, onto the feeling of protection and warmth that Simon extruded.

So you didn't think twice about it, even as you slipped the key into the front door to your apartment complex and stood next to him the whole elevator ride up to your floor, his hand curled around yours with his thumb rubbing over your knuckles, the soft action enough to make heat pool into your tummy and your panties, getting worked up over casual affection from the breathtaking man.

"Y'sure about this, lovie?" His raspy voice made you fumble with your keys as he came up behind you, watching you struggle to unlock your flat as his breath hit your ear. "Tell me to leave and I will. Last chance."

Your breathing grew shaky as his own warmed your cheek, the way he worded it making it seem like the act you were both about to perform was something akin to letting a beast free, and even if it was, as long as Simon was the one to do it, you would have let him do anything.

"Yes." You managed to get out as your door finally opened, not even getting the time to take a step in before his hands were all over you, pushing you into the apartment and slamming the door closed behind him with his foot, his balaclava somehow being pulled up to his nose, high enough so you could gaze upon his soft pink lips and the blond stubble that adorned his chin and slightly crooked nose, aware that you would have spent hours tracing his features with your eyes, engraving them to memory, but he took away any thoughts away from you as he slotted his lips with yours.

You learned immediately that Simon's kisses were desperate, sloppy, needy. The way his hands gripped at your hips and his teeth nibbled onto your bottom lip, tongue running over yours as he trailed his palms down your thighs onto your feet, wrenching off your heels and ripping apart your tights, ignoring the angered whine that left your lips.

"Easier access, lovie." He murmured against your lips, finally pulling back with a sleazy grin on his lips, a string of spit connecting you both before breaking, allowing you a bit of time to catch your breath while he took in your living room, staring at the doors. "Bedroom?"

"Th- That one-" You hazardly pointed towards one of the doors behind you, squealing out loud as he grabbed you effortlessly and started to carry you towards your room, thighs pressed to his sides and ankles crossed behind his back, making sure to cling onto him so he wouldn't randomly drop you (Although by the way his muscles barely tensed when he had picked you up, and how easily he seemed to navigate around while carrying you made you think that there was no way he'd let you fall.)

Your back finally hit your familiar soft mattress, hands clenching onto your silk sheets as he watched you like a hawk, hands resting on the space of your thighs near your now-dripping cunt, thumbs rubbing into the soft pudge.

"Fuck… Just look t'you." He rumbled out, your cheeks growing warm as he continued to stare without moving, enjoying the way you started to squirm beneath his touch. "Calm, lovie, jus' taking my time wiv' you."

You mewled out at the deep tone his voice took, thighs threatening to close as one of his hands made his way towards your clothed cunt, which had been made accessible thanks to your now-ripped tights that had been left behind in the living room.

Simon forced your thighs back open with a grunt, glassy eyes darkening as he watched your own hands come up to cover your face out of embarrassment, letting himself soak in it for a moment before finally starting to act.

"Lean up f'me." You obeyed immediately, trembling under his touch as he slowly pulled your dress off, letting it pool onto the floor along with his shirt, which he had quickly gotten rid of as soon as you were in your lingerie. His eyes roamed the lace for a moment before letting out a dry chuckle, looking up at you to find you ogling at his scarred chest, almost drooling at the sight of his well built pecs and stomach. "Tryin' to get lucky tonight?" He spoke, fingers snapping your bra strap, thinking back to why you were originally at that pub in the first place.

"Shut up." You grumbled, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him up the bed so you could continue kissing him, having been left craving more ever since that breathtaking one in the foyer.

He didn't complain, quickly indulging you as he slotted his lips with yours once again, his kiss as sloppy as needy as before, openly moaning against them as your hands run under his balaclava to pull at the short strands of his coarse hair, his own hands wrapping your thighs around his waist so your clothed pussy could grind against the hard material of his trousers over his hardened cock, rejoicing in the way your moans and whines sounded as he drank them up.

"S'needy." He chastised softly as he pulled away, moving you both towards the top of the bed so you could rest your head on your pillows, catching your breath while he started slipping off his belt and trousers (the belt being placed on the bed, just in case), and letting you gaze upon the tent in his boxers, shivering at the monstrous sight of his cock, trying to imagine how in the living fuck would he fit inside you if he couldn't even fit properly in his boxers, pulling out a moan from your lipstick smudged lips at the simple thought of being fucked by such a tool.

"Like it?" He chuckled, slowly starting to lean down with his hands on your thighs, pulling one of them over his shoulder so he was face to face with your covered cunt, his breath warm as it hit your clit, making you whine. "Gunna let me have a taste?"

"Y-Yes, god, yes, Simon, please-" You breathed out all at once, desperate for his touch after the slow teasing, watching what was visible of his face scrunch up in mock laughter as he revelled in your whines.

"As you wish, lovie."

He didn't even bother pushing your panties aside before taking a lick of your cunt from bottom to top, pressing soft kisses to your clit to hear your desperate whines and feel your thighs shake beneath his touch, continuing to slowly make out with your clothed pussy, purposefully driving you insane with his limited touches.

"Off, off, pl-please, Si, please -" You whined, pushing his head away in an attempt to start to pull your panties down, crying out in frustration as he didn't budge, a growl leaving his lips and sending vibrations up your cunt.

"Don't touch. I'm taking my fucking time, pretty. Or would you rather me stick my cock into you without any prep?" You moaned out loudly at the thought, back threatening to arch as he slowly grasped at your panties, a humourless chuckle leaving his pretty lips. "Yeah, I bet your slutty pussy'd love that, wouldn't it, lovie?" He purred before finally sliding down your pants, taking a moment to stare at your cunt and let you squirm before slowly spreading your thighs again, immediately shoving his face into his prize and repeating his movements from before, but faster and rougher, letting you feel every inch of his tongue as it ran over your lips and slowly inched inside of your hole, your moans and silent screams only edging him further on until he took your engorged clit into his mouth and started sucking, placing a hand on your stomach and pushing your arching back down onto the mattress.

He was surprised, to say the least. Yes, he'd realised you were sensitive as soon as he had kissed you for the first time, but he hadn't expected you to almost burst into tears from being eaten out (He wasn't even /trying/ to make you cry, he wondered what would happen if he did.), so he wondered if all the men you'd been with before had gone down on you, but by the way you were reacting to such simple touches, he was pretty sure he knew the answer.

"So fuckin' sweet, baby." He murmured into your pussy as he let go of your swollen clit, giving your hole some attention as the hand that was on your tummy ran down to circle your clit, overstimulating you in the best way possible. "Taste like fuckin' heaven."

"Si- Simon-" you whined his name out so so sweetly, music to the normally cold lieutenant's ears. "Gonn- Fuuuck! 'Na cum! Please, please, Si, need to-"

"S'okay, let go for me, lovie." He basically purred into you as he continued licking contently at your gushing hole, fingers tactically rubbing on your clit, before changing spots, taking your clit back into his mouth and letting his fingers slip in to you, preening at the sweet gasp that left your lips at the sudden intrusion, his coarse fingers moving in and out and immediately finding that one spot that made your back arch and toes curl, and just as he was taught in the military, he took advantage of the weak spot (in this case, your sweet spot.) and didn't stop brushing his fingers against it, the increasing sound of his name alerting him of your upcoming orgasm.

And once the coil within your stomach snapped and Simon finally let your back arch of the bed, your release gushing out of you and coating his hand and wrist, you let out the loudest moan of his name, the sound immediately going to his painfully hard cock, but he didn't stop, tongue not ceasing its assault on your clit and fingers continuing to rub against your g-spot until you finally came down from your high, brain mushy and eyes glassy as you stared up at the cream ceiling.

"Such a good girl." He purred out as he finally stopped, retracting his wet fingers and taking them into his mouth, swirling his tongue around and cleaning off all of the slick you had left from your orgasm, savouring it like he would with a lollipop. "Fuckin' taste amazing."

You whined in response, the embarrassment from having cummed so fast and having to watch him lick up all your release finally catching up to you, shaky hands moving to cover your sweaty face.

He clicked his tongue, grabbing them before they could cover your pretty features and holding them together in one hand.

"No, baby. Don't want you fuckin' hiding f'me." He snapped, slowly pulling them upwards so that they were pinned against the headboard, his other hand moving to gather the belt he had discarded not so long ago, quickly taking advantage of your cum-lax state to wrap it around your wrists, making sure it was tight enough to constrict you, but not tight enough to hurt, and letting you lie there while he started on getting rid of his boxers. "Wanna see that pretty face while you come undone on my cock. Isn't that what y'want too?"

You tried moving your head to nod, but it felt so so heavy that even the slightest movement felt like a chore, feeling grateful that Simon was a man able to move you around and dominate you without even breaking sweat, that all you needed to do was lie back and enjoy everything he gave you.

"Fuckin' hell. Not even fucked ya yet and you're 'lready gone?" He sneered, coming to hover over you so he could press wet kisses to your cheeks and neck, purposefully avoiding your lips. "Pretty girl gets her pussy played wiv and turns into a right proper slut, don' she?" He purred against your neck, his words making you shiver and squirm as your body instinctively tried to move away from the stimulus, only for him to pull you back towards him with grubby hands, a loud gasp leaving your lips as he pressed your crotches together, having expected the soft cotton of his boxers and not the hard, hot feeling of his cock flush against your dripping pussy.

"Oh- Oh my god, Simon, th-"

"Mm." He cut you off with a soft purr and a nip to your jugular, no doubt making sure that you'd wake up in purple marks the next morning as he did the same all over your neck. "'S me. All me, lovie. F'you."

You moaned at the implication, slowly starting to grind yourself against him as he made it his personal mission to cover your upper body in kisses, stopping at your clavicle and staring down at your bra, that was still to be taken off.

"Fuck, forgot all 'bout these." His hand came up to squeeze one of them softly, a small sound of pleasure leaving your lips at the added stimulation as you continued to rub your cunt against his hardened cock. "Pretty little things."

He started grinding his own hips against yours, watching with amazement at how quickly you reacted to his touch, your back arching enough for him to slip his hands behind and unclasping your bra suspiciously easy, pulling it off and throwing it behind him and landing god knows where, and leaving you finally completely bare beneath him.

"Look t'you." His warm hands immediately cupped your tits, thumb and pointer rubbing your nipples between them, pinching and pulling until they were hard, an amazed chuckle leaving his lips as he listened to your moans increase in sound, his grinding against you not ceasing either.

"Oh fuck- fuck fuck!" It was embarrassing, how quickly he had you whining and mewling beneath him, when you had found yourself struggling before to even feel something with men before him doing the same. It was just something about him, something about the way he sounded and touched, the precise movements against you, almost like he had been trained for your pleasure, to get you over the edge as many times as he could muster before even getting his dick wet.

Because the instant you felt his warm breath hit one of your perky breasts, you knew you were fucked, headed towards your second orgasm of the night. His warm mouth enveloped your hard nipple, pulling and tugging with his teeth and soothing the slight pain he left with his talented tongue, his grinding becoming quicker and rougher as he felt your thighs tremble around his waist, your eyes watering as you neared the release you oh so craved, gasping out loud as one of his hands came up to cup your cheek, thumb rubbing over your flushed skin.

"You gunna cry, baby? S'okay, let it out. Let it out f'me." He growled as he let go of your now throbbing nipple, moving to give your other neglected breast the same attention, hand leaving your face to run down to your core and slowly run over your clit, a huge contrast to the rough movements of his cock against you and his warm mouth on your nipple, all the different stimulations and feelings enough to push you over the edge and let the tears that had been collecting in your waterline finally fall, gasping moans and screams leaving your lips as you soaked his cock, body trembling beneath his ministrations as he chuckled against your nipple, enjoying the way you were slowly falling apart and he hadn't even pushed into you yet.

He didn't stop for a few moments, waiting until the moment where you would inevitably start whining and pushing him off with weak arms to cease, leaning back up with a shit eating grin as he waited for you to come down from your high.

"Oi, look at me." He taps one of his fingers on your face, moving your gaze towards his, a small, patronising pout tugging at his lips as he watches the tears roll down your cheeks. "Poor thing. You all fucked out yet? D'you think y'could still take my cock? Or are you too dumb f'that right now?"

"Y-yes, yes, please, please, need it so bad, Si! So so bad!" You stuttered out between laboured breaths, hands struggling against their binding, itching to be let free and feel his cock in your hands, which you could see between you, almost as girthy as a coke can and with a few prominent veins leading up to his flushed red tip, that was leaking pre spend you would gladly pay money to clean up with your tongue. "O-oh fuck, Simon, please -"

"Sh, shh. Calm down, y'little crybaby." He chastised, leaning down to softly press kisses over the tears that had gathered on your flushed cheeks, chuckling at how desperate you looked under him. "I'll give you what you want. Gon' fuck you so well, yeah? You'll feel me f'weeks, lovie."

"Fuck, yes, please! Want your cock so badly, please!" You cried, legs immediately spreading for him as soon as his calloused hands landed on the pudge of your thighs, slightly digging his fingers into them as he took in the beautiful sight of your soaking wet pussy, having half the mind to shove his cock in you without a second thought. But no.

"Calm." He snapped, one of his hands dropping your thighs and slapping your face softly to get your attention. "Protection, baby. You got a condom?"

He frowned as you shook your head, gasping for breath as you pointed over to your nightstand, where he could faintly see the glint of a packet of tablets in the dark. "Pill. 'M on the pill, Si. Clean. I'm clean."

He couldn't help the smile that crept onto his lips at the thought of being able to cum inside, and how eager you were acting to get him to finally stick his cock inside, whines and whimpers pulling him from his thoughts as he stared down at you.

"You going to let me cum inside then, lovie?" He teased, pulling your other thigh back up so the underside of both of them were resting flush against his bare chest, twitching cock resting on your overstimulated core. "Don' think I'm gonna be able to pull out."

"Don't want you to, fuck! Please, Simon, please!! Inside, want you to cum inside!"

A shiver racked through his body at your words, carefully letting one of your legs go and making sure it would stay there, wrapping around it to grab his cock, slowly sliding the head around your puffy lips to collect the slick, wanting the intrusion to be as painless as possible.

"Fuck… Alright, baby, alright. Breathe f'me." He whispered, letting the head of his cock press against your hole, telling himself to go slow and calm down, but by the way you were pulsing and clenching around the head, almost like you were pulling him in, made it hard to stay sane. "God, slutty lil' cunt's just swallowing me in, huh? Want this cock that bad?"

Your hands shook against their restraint as he started to push himself into your sopping hole, wanting nothing more than to grab onto something for stability, but you didn't want to risk him getting annoyed at you for trying to.

"S'okay, almost there." He mumbled, lying straight through his teeth because with one look down to where he was connected to it would prove that he wasn't even halfway in, and it was already proving difficult for your hole to accommodate to his massive size.

"S'big, Si, you're so biiig." You whined, spreading your legs slightly and pushing your body onto him to help, shivering as you could feel him start throbbing inside of you, no doubt needing his own climax after having spent so much time focusing on you.

You could feel your eyes start to flutter close, mouth dropping open as he finally bottomed out, his heavy balls flush against your ass and cock throbbing inside of you, taking a breather and letting you adjust to his size before he would start on his ruthless pace.

"Fuck, lovie, you droolin'?" He panted, a hand coming up to rest against your face and pull you out of your sex-drunk haze (Despite only getting his cock inside you now.), your eyes drowning in his crystal ones, hypnotised by his gaze as he used his thumb to rub away some of the drool that had dribbled down your chin. "Pretty girl finally gets some cock and turns into a drooling slut, huh?"

You let out a noise of complaint as your hands continued to struggle, the few coarse hairs that were peeking out from under his mask enough to make you want to bury your fingers in them, pull at his strands and dig your nails into his scalp as he rocked your world.

He seemed to to understand what you wanted, a chuckle leaving his swollen lips as he leaned over you, legs folding along with him and allowing him to reach a deeper point in your cunt you didn't know that existed, a loud moan escaping you as his calloused hands start undoing the belt, finally letting your wrists free and throwing the piece of leather away, his hands going back to holding onto one of your thighs and another gripping your waist.

"All yours, baby. All fuckin' yours."

He gave you a moment to react as he bottomed out, leaving you empty for a split moment before he slammed back in, cock head almost instantly hitting that sweet spot deep inside you, your hands immediately finding refuge on his shoulders, nails digging into the scarred skin as he repeated his ruthless thrusts, your body shaking beneath his as he pushed down onto your body, forcing you both into a mating press, your cunt tightening around his cock at the sight of his eyes rolling into the back of his head, tummy fluttering at the thought that he was enjoying this as much as you were.

"Fuck, so good, Simon! So fucking good!" Your hands trailed up to the nape of his neck and pulled at the few short hairs there, urging a growl out of him and causing him to slightly speed up, the head of his cock at this point abusing your g-spot, urging you to near your third orgasm. "Wan- Wanna cum, fuck, gonna cum, Simon!"

"Already, baby?" He spoke through bated breath, his stamina allowing him to keep a good and consistent pace, enough to please both of you and almost bring you to tears again. "That's okay, cum for me, lovie. Cum on my fucking cock, show me how much of a fucking whore you are f'me."

Your back arched, pressing your breasts to his sweaty chest, the extra stimulation from your nipples rubbing against his coarse skin finally pushing you over the edge, your cunt clamping down on his cock and making it near impossible for him to continue thrusting, but as the good soldier Simon was, he persisted, rutting into you with bared teeth and a clenched jaw, fucking you through your orgasm until your slick covered his balls and upper thighs.

"Good girl, good fucking girl." He rasped, hand moving from your waist up to your neck, giving an experimental squeeze and moaning as you clenched around him, a breathless chuckle leaving him. "Fuck, you're still clenchin' around me so nicely, love. Feel so fuckin' good, perfect lil' pussy all f'me..."

Simon was saying nonsense at this point, becoming near pussy drunk as his cock hammered into your puffy cunt, nearing his own peak after all the foreplay.

"Si- Simon-!" You keened, hands running under his mask to grasp at his hair properly, pulling at it to coax another guttural moan from him and leading him back down to engage in a messy kiss, teeth clanking together and spit being shared, feeling the desperation he was in as he continued to batter your pussy searching for his own orgasm. "Cum, please, please, cum inside!"

Simon's eyes rolled into the back of his head at your begging, eyelashes fluttering as his pace stuttered inside of you, cockhead pressing against the entrance to your cervix and finally going over the edge, his spend gushing into you and almost immediately filling you, his cock acting like a plug inside you.

"O-oh, fuuck…" He moaned out, voice going slightly high pitched as he relished in the euphoria of finishing inside of you, his nails leaving ten moon shaped indents on your hips, the pain nothing compared to the feeling of him finally fucking his spend into you, you'd have to worry about the inevitable bruises and marks in the morning before work. "Fuck, you're… fuck."

Simon lowered himself down, resting his sweaty balaclava-clad face on your shoulder as you both caught your breaths, his cock twitching inside of you as he rode the waves of his orgasm.

Your eyes were blown out, staring up at the ceiling as you were hit with a sudden wave of realisation, your brain finally catching up with your body and taking in everything that had just happened, especially the fact that you had allowed some masked man you'd met at a pub on a tinder date to ravage you like a starved animal.

"Oh my god." You said, voice wavering as you shivered beneath the mountain of a man, who's sweaty body was pressed flush to yours, his cock softening inside of you as you both started to sober up. "O-Oh my god, Simon."

He let out a moan against your skin, languidly thrusting one final time into you before slowly pulling out, peeling himself off of you and letting the cold air envelop your now-shivering body, the feeling of his warm cum dripping down your puffy cunt pulling out another broken whine from your lips.

"Look at that…" You tried moving away as Simon ran a finger down your spent hole, gathering his cum best he could before slowly shoving it back into you, clicking his tongue at your reaction before leaning down and pressing a final kiss to your clit, the loud cry that left you making him smile almost predatorily. "So, so pretty, baby."

Your eyelids fluttered closed as you felt the bed shift beneath Simon's moving weight, allowing you time to set your head on straight and think about the next words that were going to come out of your mouth (That weren't strangled moans of the blond's name and jumbled cries about how good he felt.) while he moved around, no doubt getting his discarded clothes so he could slip away into the night.

"...leavin'?" You finally mustered out, letting your head fall to a side so you could watch him pick up his boxers and slip them on, his balaclava fixed into place like it had been when you met him, leaving you to stare into his mysterious blue eyes, the only gateway into the man who had just finished ravishing you.

"..." He turned to look at you over his shoulder, eyes trailing over your shivering frame as he fought internally over your words.

Ghost knew that it would be dangerous to stay, to indulge in your touch and show himself to you in one of his most vulnerable states. He didn't know you outside of the few hours he had spent with you, and even with that, it wasn't enough for Ghost to let his guard down around you.

Simon wanted to stay, he wanted to climb back into bed and let you curl into his side, let his warm hands run up and down your warm skin like he had done while pleasuring you, listen to your snores and even breathing. And despite probably not being able to fall asleep himself, Simon knew that it would be one of the few tranquil nights of his life.

So despite Ghost's alarming protests ringing in his head, Simon slowly made his way into the empty spot of your bed next to you, the covers soft and cool against his heated skin, soothing the raging fire that seemed to boil inside of him at the mere sight of you, his large arms wrapping around you and pulling you towards his side of the bed.

As soon as your bare body made contact with his, you melted like ice cream on a hot day, curling into his side and allowing him to wrap his tattooed arm around you, calloused hands running up and down your sides, taking his sweet time memorising every curve and dip of your body as you rested your head onto his chest, ear pressed right above his rapidly beating heart.

Not one word was exchanged between you both the whole time you lied together, his fingers tracing every little nook and cranny of your skin he could find, stopping every once in a while to rub on a tense muscle or over a scar, the soft ministrations swiftly lulling you to sleep.

The hand that you had splayed on his chest was mimicking his movements, fingers running over the blond hair that adorned his chest, playing with the small cross that dangled from the small chain necklace around his neck. Every time his hand would come up to rub at your shoulders, you caught a peak at the many tattoos that sleeved his arm, and as much as you wanted to turn around and commit all of them to memory, every time you tried to move, he'd press you closer, as if he knew that if he did allow you to, you'd only put off sleeping for longer.

As your eyelids started drooping, you felt his other hand come up to rest over your smaller one, toughened fingers intertwining with your own softer ones, a tired smile forming at your lips before finally clocking out, his heartbeat a firm rhythm that pulled you further and further into the soft grasp of Hypnos.

As expected, Simon didn't sleep a wink.

He had tried to close his eyes and enjoy the warmth you radiated, trying his best to let your soft snores and murmurs lull him to sleep, but it was impossible.

Despite not having slept for more than two days, he was unable to fall asleep, on edge after the catastrophe that was his last mission.

That was one of the reasons he had decided to step out of his comfort zone and allow himself a night of indulgence with you, a night of letting himself go and take out all his anger on you, but he had been impuissant to hurt you or even come close to actually wound you, instead taking it as slow as he knew how to and muttering soft praises and sweet nicknames into your ear along with the degradation that he'd mixed in.

And even after tiring himself out, he still couldn't let himself fully relax.

But as he turned his head to look down at your sleeping face, he thought that maybe this wasn't so bad. He felt… at ease, for the first time in a while. No strident alarms to wake him up at the crack of dawn, no ringing in his ears as a grenade went off near him, no desperately patching up a wound and drenching his hands in blood, no screams and pleas of mercy reverberating around his head as he disposed of the enemy.

None of that. It was just you. With your body curled into his side and your soft skin beneath a killer's hands.

Which is why he wished he could stay there forever. Lock the door and have you in his arms for the rest of his life, without the paranoia and the horrors that followed him everywhere he went, only focus on you and how mushy you made him feel with only a few hours of knowing him.

Which is why he wished he could have just fallen asleep and ignored the vibrations that came from beneath his discarded clothes, that he didn't leave your side and pick up the phone, that he hadn't followed orders like he always did and hadn't left you alone.

He carefully tucked you in, making his side of the bed before hesitantly brushing his scarred knuckles against your flushed cheeks, an alternative to the kiss he oh-so wanted to press down onto you until you woke up, until you asked him to stay, until he caved in and left the 141 to fend for themselves.

But he didn't.

He closed the door to your bedroom, slipped his phone and keys back into his pockets and headed towards the front door, ready to leave you behind and go back to being Ghost.

But as his hand reached for the doorknob, his eyes caught onto a stack of fluorescent yellow sticky notes on the kitchen counter, and in a stroke of not so genius, he grabbed the nearest pen and scribbled down his number onto the piece of paper, signing it with a simple "S .", hoping that you'd deduce it was from him, and not from some random person whose name started with the letter S that had broken into your apartment just to give you their number.

He stuck it a bit too aggressively to the almost bare fridge, making sure it was in a visible spot that you wouldn't be able to miss before finally stepping out of your flat, adjusting his mask in the elevator's mirror and going back to the cold hearted killer his fellow soldiers knew as Ghost.

He'd expected it to be a short mission.

One that they'd be able to finish within two weeks at best so he could go back to his cramped flat in Manchester and hopefully get back to you.

He'd spent almost every day of the first week of his departure wondering if you'd found the note, if when he'd retrieve his phone back from his locker back at base, he'd find a few messages from an unknown number he hoped was yours, asking him how he was, asking him to meet up again, wondering if he was okay…

That's what mostly kept him going for the first few days.

Until it all went haywire.

The mission escalated quickly into a mess of soldiers and betrayals, flying from place to place and taking more lives with his bare hands than he had ever before.

Blood soaked his hands in a way it never had, the toll of deaths on his name increasing with every passing day, week, month, year.

When the mission that had started off as something simple, something Ghost couldn't even remember, ended after a year, the 141 couldn't be more relieved. And exhausted.

They'd fought for many months straight, barely finding places to get a wink of sleep, and sometimes even running out of food while they camped out in one of the dingy safe houses of whatever city they were currently stranded in.

But it was finally over. Their target had been disposed of and any enemy that remained had either been eliminated or had scurried off.

As the chopper brought them back to base, none of them said a word, even Johnny refrained from making any jokes, knowing that it would only piss off both of his superiors and maybe get a tired chuckle out of Gaz.

Price uttered a "Good job." to all of them before patting them on the shoulder and going to his office, no doubt ready to go back home and have the sleep of his life.

The two sergeants withheld from talking too much to their lieutenant, murmuring a goodbye to him before going their own way, Ghost not even bothering to answer, too mentally and physically exhausted to even open his mouth to speak.

The first thing he did once he reached his locker was throw the goddamn mask off, letting the plastic skull clatter against the tiles as he rummaged through his belongings, wanting nothing more than to get into some clean clothes and go back home, where he would drink away the horrors that would no doubt follow him and probably pass out watching reruns of football games he had missed.

The clothes he had worn the day before the mission were tighter, accentuating the change in his physique after putting his muscles to work for a whole year, the seams of his trousers digging uncomfortably into his legs, his pockets full of random junk he had left in there.

He fished for whatever was currently pressing against his backside, pulling out his small phone from the pocket, frowning down at the gadget, which was no doubt out of battery after being left for so long.

Simon was pleasantly surprised when the screen brightened, showing his black lock screen and the time, the battery hanging onto dear life with a 1%. He moved to grab his charger, his eyes still trained on the incoming notifications that would soon flood his home screen, not really expecting much aside from the emails entailing rubbish deals or the occasional spam from a porn site he'd signed up to as a teen and hadn't been able to delete.

Instead, he was bombarded with over a thousand notifications at once, all from the same unknown number, the messages going too quickly for his tired eyes, focusing on the random words he was able to take from the rapidly passing texts.

‍

Answer.

Ignoring.

Asshole.

Appointment.

Doctor.

Pub.

Baby.

Pregnancy.

‍‍

His mind blocked itself off as he processed the last word, trying to make sense of all the confusing messages that had been sent to his phone.

Had it been by accident? Was he the recipient of some prank? Had he unknowingly given out his number to someo-

You.

Simon's throat went dry as the realisation dawned on him. Without sparing another second, he unlocked his phone, clicking onto the notifications and scrolling down as fast he could while still intaking information, afraid that his phone would die out at any point in time and render him utterly confused and terrified.

His body went on autopilot the more he read, brain fuzzy as if he had just drank a whole bottle of hard-hitting liquor, his eyes fixed on the bright screen of his phone in terror.

He was in shock. His mind wasn't in the right state to process any of this, he wasn't able to properly begin to fathom the meaning behind your words, as simple as they were.

‍

— I'm pregnant.

— I'm fucking pregnant, Simon.

— I don't know how it happened, the chances of the pill failing are so fucking low, and of course it happened to us.

‍

— Please pick up.

— I know you're getting the messages.

‍

— The doctor told me it's too dangerous to perform the abortion.

— I have to keep it or risk my life.

‍

— I need you to answer, Simon. Please, I just need to know that you're there.

— I'm scared.

‍

— You're such an asshole, you know that, right?! Fucking gave me your number only to disappear? Left me pregnant with your bloody kid!? And you can't even bother to pick up the goddamn phone.

‍

— Fuck you.

‍

— …

— It's a boy. Thought you'd want to know.

‍

— My due date is in a month. Please… call me, if you're even reading these. I don't want to be alone.

‍

The phone flashed the low power message in hopes that Simon would take mercy on it and finally plug it in, but Simon paid it no mind, clear eyes staring down at the picture you'd attached during one of the first months of your pregnancy.

The blurry picture of an ecography staring back at him disproved any doubts that might have formed in his mind, your full name displayed at the bottom along with the date it was taken, solidifying the fact even more.

It was real. This was real. You'd been carrying his son for 9 months, sending him frantic and terrified messages all throughout the three trimesters in hopes that he'd answer, all the while he had forgotten all about you in the midst of his mission, while you probably didn't spend a single day of that year not thinking about him.

His phone went dark once it finally had enough, leaving him standing there with a dry throat and shaky hands.

It was rare for Ghost to feel fear, but not for Simon. His throat would contract with every breath, his nose would sting as tears threatened to form on his waterline, his hands would get shaky until he balled them up and threw a punch into whatever item was closest.

This time wasn't any different. He punched his locker door, denting the metal effortlessly as he tried to wash away the fear and guilt creeping up to him with the pain that bloomed at his knuckles, that ran up his arms like electric shocks until they went numb.

He was an asshole.

Simon knew that it wasn't his fault that the mission had been extended for way too long, but he kept thinking back to the moment he'd placed his number on your fridge, wondering what would have happened if he'd done the smart thing and added that he'd be unavailable for a while, but that he'd get back to you. Maybe you would have been less scared while going through the pregnancy, comforted by the thought that he hadn't been ignoring you, but he knew that even then, you would have gone through it alone and terrified.

"I'm an asshole."

He rested his head against the dented locker, the cool metal soothing the headache that had quickly formed after all the conflicting feelings that had rushed through him in the matter of a minute.

All he had wanted was to go back home and rest, but fuck him if he was going to be able to even close his eyes after learning he was a father.

He packed everything up as quickly as he could, not bothering to say goodbye or join the other three for a drink at a pub, heading to his car so he could get the fuck out of London and back to Manchester, where he prayed you still lived, in that tiny flat near that dingy pub where he had first laid eyes on you in.

As his gloved hands gripped the steering wheel hard enough to turn his knuckles white, a terrifying thought struck him.

Who's to say you had even kept the baby?

Who's to say you couldn't bear to look at the baby, that you'd given him away to a way more functional family?

The thought inflicted fear in him, a type of fear he didn't know if he should be feeling or not, confused with all the unpleasant emotions swirling inside of him.

"God, fuck!" He slammed his hands onto the steering wheel, the roar he had let out no doubt scaring any civilian that had been walking near his car at the time, but he couldn't care less.

All that was important now was getting back to you, to what he hoped was still the mother of his son.

Happy giggles and gurgles filled the living room, your tiny baby outstretching his arms out as you cycled his legs slowly, making silly faces down at him to keep him distracted.

Your doctor had recommended small exercises like these, some that would help develop his future motor skills, but you'd found that Tommy was a curious baby, one that couldn't stay still for longer than five minutes before he was whining and huffing in a futile attempt to get your attention and hopefully release him from his tiny prison; and so, in order to keep him focused, you resorted to having leisured conversations with him, your small son hanging onto your every word with wide blue eyes and a gaping mouth, as if he could understand your frustrations with the man who had blocked your car off and the girl from the bakery that had gotten your order wrong, or making silly faces at him to hear him giggle with glee.

You placed his small feet down and went back to your resting face, his eyes instantly going from your face to the closest toy, small chubby arm reaching out to grab it, your fingers running over his tummy and getting out a few giggles out of him before he finally grasped the toy, pressing it into his side.

As he distracted himself, you let yourself sit down properly, back hitting the edge of the sofa as you watched your son roll around on the blanket you'd laid down, letting yourself look up at the TV for a moment to have a small break, the news reporter standing in front of Big Ben ranting about some resolved political dispute or something.

Your eyes trailed back down to your son, who was wriggling around with a new toy in his grasp, cooing and drooling as he stared up at the ceiling, blue eyes fixed on one of the many cracks in the ceiling.

You winced at the not so friendly reminder of the state your flat was in. Going through a pregnancy on your own without any help and barely any money to take care of yourself left your home in a condition you were not proud of. You'd tried your best to clean and make the nursery as cosy as possible, but at the end of your third trimester you could barely lean down to pick up the hoover. Once you had been allowed back home, you'd cleaned up, but you couldn't really do much to fix the poor way your building had been constructed.

A sigh left your lips, leaning down to rest your head against your knees with closed eyes, giving yourself a few moments of sacred rest, something you seldom got anymore those days.

Sometimes, you thought as you wrapped your arms around your legs, you wished you weren't alone. As much hate you had harboured for your son's father across the year, you couldn't help the longing that still filled you every time you thought about him, wondering if you'd ever see him again, if he'd ever hold his son in his arms.

Frustrated tears filled the corners of your eyes, wiping them away with your sleeves before turning your attention back to your son, who was now squirming in his spot making grabby hands at you.

"I've got you, duck, don't worry." You cooed, picking him up and pressing a few kisses to his chubby cheeks, cradling him to your chest as you got up from the floor, careful to not drop him or bump him into anything.

As you took him back to his room, routinely changing his diaper and clothes, you thought back to the small breakdown you almost had had a few minutes ago, letting out an exhausted sigh. There was no use in imagining a future where Simon fit in, you'd given him enough time to answer, to show any signs of life at all. You were alone.

You were on the verge of tears as you placed Tommy in his tiny crib, handing him the small duck plushie your grandma had knitted a few months back when she had come to visit, watching him cling onto it in his sleep for a few moments, his soft breaths and coos tranquillising the waves of anxiety threatening to drown you.

"Good night, Tom." You whispered, pressing a kiss to his chubby cheek before flicking on the night light, carefully closing the door and resting your body against it, a shaky sigh leaving your chapped lips.

God, you were pathetic. Hung up over a man who you'd only known for a few hours, who'd left you with a baby (unknowingly or not, didn't matter), who still haunted your dreams every time you tried to get some rest. Why couldn't he have just picked up the phone? Why had he just given you his fucking number if he wasn't bothering on answering? Why had he gotten into your head so easily, with his sweet nicknames and soft kisses? Why couldn't you just fucking mov-

Your whole body jumped as the shrill doorbell rang, the sound reverberating around the flat and no doubt reaching Tommy's sensitive ears.

"God, yeah, I hear it!" You cried out as the sound didn't stop, starting to get worried that it would wake your baby up and then you'd have to deal with putting him to sleep all over again. "Fuck! I know, I'm coming!"

You looked through the peephole, eyebrows furrowing as you gazed upon a man's tacky army jacket instead of the normal face, so either this guy was incredibly fucking tall or he was standing on a stool.

Knowing that the area you lived in wasn't the safest, you unlocked the door but kept the chain latch on, a gap big enough so you could see the guy outside but not big enough for him to attack you.

"What?" You snapped, a bit harsher than how you'd normally answer the door, but this guy didn't really deserve any respect after how he'd basically abused your doorbell to the point of the sound still ringing in your ears. "What do you-"

Your gaze had been fixed onto his chest, scanning the army jacket you had spied through the peephole, cringing internally at the Union Jack plastered on his left bicep, hoping to God that he wasn't some type of Tory propagandist going door to door. But as your eyes trailed up to meet his, your mouth went dry.

Crystal blue eyes framed by pretty blonde eyelashes (identical to the blue eyes your son had been staring up at you with for the past three months), contrasting with the black face paint that was smeared around his eyes, the rest of his face obscured by that damn skull balaclava that haunted you.

It was him. It was fucking him.

"Simon." You said his name breathlessly, not missing the way his body stiffened at your shaky tone.

"Yeah. It's me."

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x fem reader #ghost x female reader #cod mwii #call of duty #ghost x you #ghost fanfiction #ghost x fem!reader #ghost fic #cod mwii x reader #ghost smut #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #cw pregnancy #— ménage

[eureka-its-zico]

Chaos in Their Bones Ch. 4

Ongoing Series

Synopsis: All your life you’d listened to your friend, Usopp spin wild tales about pirates and adventure. Pirates weren’t a thing that came often to Syrup Village, but one straw hat pirate and his crew changed all that the day they arrived. Now, you aren’t so sure if your sleepy little village was always pirate-free or if no one had been paying attention.  

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Genre: friends to lovers, frenemies to lovers, slow burn (I hope y’all like aching) eventual smut

Words: 8.7+

A/N:  This chapter is mostly filler from 1.04-1.05. This chapter also, once again has a POV from Zoro. I kept going through my options of what I could do to possibly give these two idiots more alone time and this was the result. The beginning, and introduction, of Sanji begins right at Chapter 5 and I already have too many ✨ideas ✨ that I know what to do with. Also, I did add in Zoro working out. It’s a brief mention, but I just found it weird he didn’t have any of those scenes (probably for damn good reason). As always, thank you guys for all the love and support. I hope you all continue to enjoy this story🖤 Much Love, Jenn

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Previous Next

“I don’t know, Doc. You’re starting to look a little pale.”

“And green.”

You’d been hugging the side of this particular railing since you’d sailed out of port. It was your first time ever on a ship and it wasn’t going too great. You’d heard about seasickness and even had sailors come asking for Naan’s Elfroot to chew to stem the tide while they were out at sea. You always thought they were being ridiculous. How bad could it be? 

Well, if your dry heaving was any indication - pretty bad. Of course, Zoro just had to make it worse. 

You glanced up from looking at the water that was gently tapping the side of the boat to the growing bane of your existence. One hand was tucked into the pocket of his jeans while the other rested on the hilt of his swords. He looked effortlessly cool as he watched you with - was that a smirk? 

He’d changed into a yellow shirt with fine detailing of gray lines running horizontally and vertically, which matched perfectly with his gray pants. 

Zoro was more of a fashionista than he’d let on. 

“It’s just the reflection of your hair,” you shot back at him. 

You could feel the next wave of nausea thrashing around in your stomach and you prayed you could keep it down. You were going to lose more cool points if you hurled again. Zoro squinted over the sun's rays to regard your current state. He must have been able to tell you were 0.2 seconds from hurling because, instead of replying, he simply twirled his finger indicating for you to turn around. 

You did as he instructed, but made sure to follow it up with a middle finger salute. 

“Man, you two always like this? You just met.” Usopp asked. 

Usopp tried doing the dotting friend routine by patting you a few times, awkwardly, on your back. It felt more like he was trying to get a burp out of you than soothe you. 

“It’s because they like each other.”

Nami pranced out of the galley and chose violence. It only took both you and Zoro to register her words before you both shouted: 

“I don’t like her.”

“I hate him!”

Nami wrapped her arms around herself as she looked you both over. A devious smile tilting the edges of her mouth and you had to look away before it turned into the shit eating grin you’d come to expect. 

“I’m sure you both do,” she teased. 

You wanted to prove to her that you meant it. Zoro would be the last person you would say you liked, like- like that. The man was literally the biggest pain in the ass you’d ever met. 

“Usopp,” you croaked, “can you get my bag, please.”

“I’m on it, Doc.”

At the sound of his feet hitting the deck, a groan of discomfort resonated in your chest. How could anyone think that sailing was fun? This felt like the absolute worst. 

When you first entered the Going Merry you couldn’t believe how beautiful it was. You’d heard Usopp tell you stories since he cleaned it everyday. It was as finely crafted as he’d described, and the white ashwood against the walnut was a stark contrast but complemented each other beautifully. There wasn’t another ship like the Going Merry and a one-of-a-kind ship should belong to someone as extraordinary as Luffy.

The minute you’d cast off into the giant blue you’d almost panicked. What if this was a mistake? You’d never been out in open water before nor had you ever left Syrup village. This could either be one of the greatest adventures of your life or a disaster. The only thing that kept you from flinging yourself over the side and swimming back was when you’d walked the stern and the glint of the sun shone down on the water. 

The sun’s rays illuminated the water like light reflecting off a crystal glass. One minute it was the deepest blue. The color was solid enough that your reflection was easy to see and in a matter of seconds after a ray of light touched its water, it took on a cornflower hue that made the water translucent. 

You’d been able to admire it for all of three seconds before you were embarrassing yourself over the port bow. 

“I’m back, Doc,” Usopp spoke softly as he placed a soft hand on your shoulder. He lightly tapped the bag against your hands to try and coax you to grab it. “Do you need me to get you water or anything?”

“Water is not going to help. It’ll make it worse.” 

You thought he was trying just to be his usual monotoned “Hi, I’m Zoro and I could care less,” self, but when you finally peeled your forehead off your forearm and looked at him he wasn’t even looking at either of you. He was curled up, like a lazy cat, against a couple of crates with his eyes closed and faced tilted towards the sun. With his hands infamously stuffed inside his pockets. 

“It would?”

You nodded your head only once in recognition before you started searching through your bag. Your hands started scrambling inside it a soft, “No,no,” building into a frenzy before you stopped searching.

“I’m guessing your magic little root isn’t in there.”

Zoro was still sitting without a care while you felt like you wanted to throw yourself overboard. 

“No. It isn’t.”

Mental note: Ask Luffy to stop at Irkhaven Isle to get supplies. 

Suddenly, Zoro stood in one graceful motion and walked off towards the galley. 

Ass. 

You turned back to the Going Merry’s railing and held on tight. Your stomach felt like you’d swallowed glass and got punched, it was so empty. Another groan was building in your chest when a cold bottle touched the back of your arm. 

The coolness to your skin sent a yelp of surprise from you, and sent you whirling to the presence beside you. Zoro was leaning back against the railing, looking as calm as ever, with a beer extended out between you. 

“Isn’t it a little bit too early to be drinking?” 

He rolled his eyes as he switched positions. He was now mimicking your current position against the rail but looked effortless and was still holding that damn beer out to you. 

“It’s for you.”

“For me? Zoro, I don’t think now is the time to be drinking-“

“Just drink it,” he growled, an obvious annoyance replacing his earlier calm. 

What hell, what was a beer going to do? At most, it would at least give your stomach something to actually throw up instead of dry heaving yourself into a six pack. 

You reached out and took it from him. Zoro continued to watch you as you placed the bottle to your lips, waiting for you to take a sip. 

“Could I get some privacy here?”

Zoro rolled his eyes but did as you asked looking off into the southside of the ship. You took that moment to take a long pull from the bottle. Surprisingly, it was damn good beer. You waited for the bitter aftertaste to kick in, but found it replaced with the tang of citrus. You immediately took another drink and another. It wasn’t until you were halfway to the middle of the bottle that you noticed the ship had been rocked a few times by the waves and yet…

You went to turn your attention back to Zoro and found him already staring at you. 

I am not blushing. 

You turned quickly to look back out at the ocean with both arms leaning over the railing as you took in the picturesque view. You couldn’t believe beer was making your sea sickness disappear. Out of your peripherals you waited for him to turn away from you. Unable to say it to his face as you played with the label that was peeling off from condensation. 

Alcohol. It was brilliant. You were sure your body was still feeling sick, but the depressant in the beer wasn’t allowing those receptors to acknowledge it. Tilting the bottle at him you asked, “How’d you know this would work.” 

“It’s how I survived all my boat trips. Old guy I’d met aboard my first ship when I was seventeen taught me that trick.” 

“Is that why you have so much booze? Cause you have a weak stomach?” 

Your question came off worse than you intended. You genuinely weren’t trying to insult him. He’d just helped you. Zoro has helped you. 

“No. I just like to drink.” 

His tone was void of all emotion. The little bit he’d given you quickly washed away and you wanted to kick yourself. 

Foot meet mouth. Mouth meets foot. 

You weren’t very good at this. The only friend you’d ever actually had was Usopp. The both of you know the tone of the other and every secret in between. You’d tried to make friends with the other kids in town, but holding up a frog as a friendship gift didn’t seem to go over too well. And on that wonderful trip down memory lane…

You straightened up and took a smaller sip from the beer before you leaned down to pick up your abandoned satchel. 

“Thank you, Zoro.”

The both of you stared at the other until the silence was washed out by the squawking of seagulls and the rush of water. Even now in this weird game of chicken, you knew you would be the first to give. His dark eyes staring straight through you until you felt exposed. You tipped the bottle for good measure and turned on your heel to make your way inside the safety of the kitchen. Your hand clutching the bottle close as your brain tried to make sense of what happened. 

Zoro helped you. He didn’t have too and for all intents and purposes you were surprised he didn’t just let you suffer, but he’d chosen not to. What did that even mean? He was just being friendly. It didn’t mean anything more than that. 

Instead of dwelling on the question, you sat down in the corner booth and took another pull from the bottle. 

——————-

After you finished your first bottle, you found another, and another until you’d ended up blissfully passed out in the booth. You were vaguely aware that Luffy and the crew had come into the galley at some point. The sound of Usopp and Luffy struggling to talk over the other was what forced you out of your nap.

“We all know who the Captain is.”

“It’s me.”

Two voices rang out as one with each ending in a high-pitch of surprise. It was his first day and already Usopp was trying to stir up mutiny on the ship. If you weren’t interested in staying unconscious you were positive you would’ve smiled. 

“Just call me Captain Usopp.”

“We already know I’m the Captain.”

It didn’t surprise you they were still giving out declarations of who was Captain. You waited for it to become a campaign, like when Townsfolk ran for Mayor, but the sound of Nami’s laughter followed by - was that Zoro?! - ended both men’s rant. 

“See, this is what it’s all about,” Luffy’s voice chimed in. “From now it’s going to be smooth sailing.”

He was his usual happy sounding self. You were willing to bet it was infectious, making everyone’s earlier laughter remain in the small creases by their eyes and the raise of their lips. Luffy was indeed a Captain and one of the best kind. 

Enjoying the moment abruptly ended, however, when you caught the sound of a whistle outside. It grew more intense by the second. Whatever it was, was slicing through the air with a force that was audible. You weren’t sure why it took so long for your brain to register that it wasn’t a natural sound. It was rectified, however, when something violently slammed into the Going Merry and sent everything trembling. 

Your back immediately shot up off the cushion of the booth. Eyes open wide as you stumble to your feet watching Nami and Zoro do the same. 

“What in the hell was that?”

“Luffy opening his damn mouth,” Nami replied as you followed behind her. 

You were wondering how Luffy’s mouth could have anything to do with the current sounds coming from outside. Your response died in your throat the minute you got out onto the deck. You followed them to the stern of the ship and finally saw what was waiting for you all was a very large, very metal, Marine vessel trailing behind you. 

All the blood drained from your body and whatever buzz you’d had left over from earlier was now completely gone. 

“It’s the marines! We’re under attack!” 

Nami rushed to the wheel to begin to try evasive maneuvers to get you all out of the way of the oncoming cannonballs. Another shot rang out from the marine vessel and you waited to be struck by steaming metal and found yourself vaguely relieved when it crashed into the ocean a few feet from you. 

“How did they find us?”

“Does it matter? They’re trying to blow us out of the water!”

What the hell were you supposed to do? 

What in the hell could anyone do against being shot at by cannons and a marine vessel that was gaining on your small ship by the second. You could see three figures standing at the bow of the ship, eerily watching as if waiting for something - or someone - to appear. 

Luffy grabbed the telescope and peered through the lens. You all waited for him to give an order and what he said next surprised everyone. 

“Grandpa?”

“Grandpa!”

“Did you just call that guy grandpa?” Zoro asked, his eyes carefully watching Luffy as he glanced through the telescope back at the ship. 

He didn’t answer right away. The sound of another shot being fired made all of you space out from one another. You could feel the tension singing through your nerves. The adrenaline was demanding you to move or do something else besides just hopelessly stand like a damn target. The fight or flight in you erupted to life with one key thought hoarding every inch of clarity besides one: run. 

This time when the cannon came crashing down it came right at the edge of the stern. An eruption of water covering you in a fine mist of water. You didn’t get a chance to decide on what to do when another shot rang out. 

“Hit the deck!” 

Usopp’s scream was frantic enough you didn’t ask why, and did as he instructed and became one with the wood. Seconds later, the sound of speeding metal whizzed by you and smashed into the railing behind sending wood fragments everywhere. 

You couldn’t stop the scream that tore its way from your lips as your body curled in on itself. 

What the hell did I sign up for? 

You could hear the sounds of feet clumsily finding their footing again as everyone began to get up. You wanted to stay where you were, but the sharp sound of Zoro calling you a coward resonated inside your chest. 

You could do this. You could totally hundred-percent do this. 

It was your turn to begin to get up from your place on the stern deck, and just as you moved to your knees someone offered their hand for you to take. Color you shocked when you looked up to find that hand was attached to Zoro. You must have been staring too long because he looked away, hand still out, and grumbled, “You going to keep staring at it or take it?”

Yup, and there was the Zoro you’d grown to know and loathe.

“It just burns you up inside to be so helpful, doesn’t it?”

Your voice oozed with sarcasm as you took his hand - maybe a bit too aggressively - and started to get up. Zoro saw your passive-aggressive hand smack and did you one better. He pulled you quickly to your feet, but that quickness came at the cost of your balance. Your feet couldn’t catch their footing back on the deck and you ended haphazardly colliding into his chest. 

As fast as it happened, it was equally as fast that you both dislocated yourselves from each other.

“Is everybody okay?”

“I think so.” 

“No. Not okay. Not even close to okay.”

“I second, Usopp,” you said. 

You weren’t sure why you raised your hand. It could’ve been you just really needed them to know that no - no, this was definitely not okay. 

Luffy took your concerns with a grain of salt, however, and ran over to the cannon - the only cannon - on deck. You’d only just meet him, but Luffy didn’t strike you as someone who held onto any ill will. So, you were surprised to see the determination burn in his eyes and the scowl to cross his face. 

What did your grandpa do to you? 

If you weren’t mortally in danger of drowning at any minute or being shredded in half by a cannonball, you might have asked. 

“Usopp! Fire back at them!”

“Or how about we sail away as fast as we can?”

“I like that idea, actually,” you chimed in, a hand scratching the back of your neck. “That’s a solid plan if I ever heard one, Usopp.”

“Run from the marines?” 

Luffy looked between the three of you. He couldn’t believe that Usopp, Nami, and you were apparently so quick to not want to put up much of a fight. You did enjoy not being a sea decoration. 

“No. Never! Nami trim the…sail thing. Let’s sink their ship!”

“Wait, what? Are you crazy?”

You had to back up to stand next to Zoro as Luffy waved for Usopp to join him on the stern. The two of them grabbed a hold of the cannon to bring it towards an opening in the back. 

“Let’s sink their ship.” 

“Luffy, we don’t have time for this!” Nami interjected, but Luffy wasn’t listening. “They’re going to come up alongside us! If they do, we are finished.”

“Our odds keep sounding better and better,” you mumbled as you made your way over to Nami. 

“You are our Navigator. Do something.” 

Nami let out a groan before her whole demeanor changed. No longer was she trying to flee or get Luffy to see reason. Suddenly, she turned to Zoro and ordered him to go down and pull the sheet in. He didn’t waste a second before he brushed past you and down the stairs. 

You waited for her to order you to do something, anything, but she must have known it would’ve been like explaining math to a baby. You didn’t even know what she’d even just asked Zoro to do. Apparently, neither did he. 

“Which way is port?” 

A heavy sigh left her as she shouted back, “It’s the left!”

“Have you ever loaded a cannon before?”

“Yeah, yeah I’ve loaded tons of them,” Usopp replied coolly.

You had to give Usopp props. He was literally the master of bullshit and could keep a straight face even though you both knew the only thing he loaded was his imagination. 

“This is just a different model I’ve never seen before.”

“Usopp, you load the cannon in the barrel. Light it and then get the hell out of the way!”

Following Nami’s directions, Usopp rushed forward towards the barrel. You thought he was going to make it when the ball slipped out of his hand and landed with a heavy thud on the deck. You rushed forward to grab it before it rolled down the stairs, but didn’t notice Usopp rushing to join you in the hunt. What neither of you failed to notice was that the vibration from dropping the cannonball dislodged the others. 

In a split second, you and Usopp collided into one another and when you stepped back to stand up your heel caught a ball. You had barely enough seconds to lean yourself forward as you slipped down the stairs, taking each stair with a thud just like the cannonballs. 

Your knees slammed into the edge of one of the stairs, but the balls under your hips kept you slipping. You tried bending your knees to slow your descent only to have them successfully bump every step on the way down. 

“Oh shit, Doc are you okay?” Usopp shouted down after you. 

“I’m fantastic,” you grunted as you came to a stop before the last steps. 

You weren’t trying to remove yourself from the stairs. You could feel the pain in your knees growing with each passing second. You were willing to bet when you stood up, that dull throb that was beginning to resonate under your skin would shoot out like lightning the minute you stood up. Unfortunately, you’d forgotten who was at the bottom of the stairs with you. 

“Are you going to get up anytime soon or do you enjoy just laying there?” 

You were ready to tell Zoro where he could shove his swords when a gruff voice you’d never heard cut over the chaos. 

“Pirate vessel, by order of the marines, lower your sails and submit to my authority.”

You were willing to bet a million berries if that man wasn’t Luffy’s grandpa that wouldn’t even be an offer on any table. Ever. The sound of Zoro’s boots coming closer caused you to peel yourself up just enough before he - did he really just step over you? 

“Oh, you asshole,” you seethed. 

You scrambled to your feet to chase after him when you noticed another cannonball headed straight for the Merry. But where was the sound of the gunpowder? What felt even more unbelievable was what came after. 

Sure, Luffy told you he’d eaten a Devil fruit. He’d told you his body was made of rubber but seeing was believing. You watched as Luffy began to inhale air and his body blew up like a…balloon. Luffy was becoming an actual balloon of skin until the cannonball landed in the center of his stomach. He took the entire impact and flung it back at the marine vessel. One minute, you could hear the return fire whistling through the air. The next, you watched as the crow’s nest above the mast exploded and seconds later it came crashing down. 

Everything grew silent aboard the Merry as you all registered what you’d just witnessed. You were still staring at Luffy and back to the now very much on fire marine ship when Usopp’s surprised laughter cut through the silence. 

“That was amazing! You just saved us!”

“You didn’t tell me you could do that.”

You could feel your own smile slide across your face as the adrenaline began to bleed away. The aftershocks of the thrill of battle - no matter how unsuccessful - left you feeling ready to do it all again. Or take a nap. 

You were joining in on the laughter as you looked back at Nami, and at Usopp who was jumping in excitement with Luffy. You looked over at Zoro and found your earlier excitement drained from your body. Sure, you’d seen him smirk and look like the grumpy cat who ate the canary, but you’d never seen him smile. 

Sometime during the battle the wind had tussled up his hair making him appear like he’d just woken from a nap. It made him softer, less broody, and the grin that lit up his face actually reached his eyes and scrunched his nose. 

It was safer in the village. 

You wanted to say the thought was because of what had just happened. Even as Luffy ordered Nami to get you out of the area, you knew it wasn’t because of the danger. Hell, as much as it was a mess of a first battle, the adrenaline of it all was demanding for a release. Maybe you’d be able to use that as an excuse for why your heart was beating so wildly as you watch Zoro run a hand through his hair. 

The ship suddenly felt too constricting. It didn’t allow enough space between you and the swordsman who resided on this ship. You tried to shake your head clear of all those thoughts and turned to run after Luffy. You called his name as you carefully took the stairs down after him. 

“Something wrong, Doc?”

“No, no,” you waved him off. “I just - I wanted to ask a favor.”

“You can ask me for anything.”

You weren’t sure if you would ever get over how genuine Luffy was. Every word he said to you he meant it. You could probably tell him you needed the sun, and whether physically attainable or not, you knew Luffy would try his absolute best to bring it to you. 

Because Luffy was just that kind of Captain. 

“Would it be a bother if we stopped at an island? I’m in need of some supplies.”

———————

Luffy didn’t hesitate to say yes to your request to stop at Irkhaven. It only took you all of four seconds to explain what it was, where it was, and why you needed to go before he sent you to Nami to give her the coordinates. While you’d never physically gone with Naan to harvest the ingredients you’d grown up using, she made sure to tell you often how to get there. 

Just in case the day came she couldn’t. 

What you hadn’t expected as you walked through fields of lavender was to have Zoro trailing behind you. 

“How much longer are we going to be out here?”

“Until I have enough of everything to last us a while,” you called over your shoulder. 

You didn’t need to look behind you to know Zoro was shooting daggers into the back of your skull. While he hadn’t been happy being volunteered to go with you onto the island, he hadn’t argued with Luffy either. 

You stopped midway out of the lavender fields and took out your small knife to begin cutting gently through the stems. After you had a good enough bundle, you sheathed the knife back in its place on your satchel where you reached inside to grab a pre-cut piece of string. 

You could still feel Zoro watching you, as you tied the lavender together in a tight bundle. 

“I wasn’t aware picking flowers was life-saving medicine.” 

This time you did look over at him. Zoro, the strong and proud pirate hunter. The demon, Luffy said was his nickname. Looking at Zoro now, even in an endless field of lavender, he resonated power. You held no doubt he had earned such an intimidating name through grit and blood-soaked swords. 

He looked out of place next to you in a place meant for healing and you couldn’t help but wonder if it was more what he projected than who he was. While Luffy told you happily about the scary parts of Zoro (which Luffy by no means actually saw as scary) he’d also mentioned Zoro never went without a specific sword.

Remembering Luffy’s words, your eyes quickly darted down to the white-sheathed katana. If you had to put money on it, that was the one that held a deeper meaning to him. It was the one he clutched the tightest and his hand fell on absentmindedly. 

Once you knew the bundle was secure, you playfully poked it in his direction. 

“It does heal. It calms the mind and spirit. It creates restful sleep.”

“It stinks.” 

“You are absolutely impossible,” you grumbled, your eyes rolling as you turned away from him. 

You placed the bundle inside your satchel and started forward. You didn’t need to look back to know that Zoro would be behind you. This time you were leading him towards an eyeline of trees you’d spotted a few feet back. They looked promising to hold green chiretta. 

“So, why did Luffy send you with me?”

You came out first from the field and onto a path that was being taken over by the vegetation. 

“Because you don’t know how to protect yourself.”

“I can too.”

“A pot doesn’t count.”

You spun on your heels, satchel swinging, and caught it with your forearm just before it swung into your hip. You were pleased to see the unexpected action had caught him by surprise. Not the typical surprise that Usopp, or others, gave where it might be exaggerated or a gasp and step back. No, Zoro’s was the briefest flinch in the corner of his eyes. Blink and you would’ve missed it. 

“Hey, that pot kicked ass.”

“You got lucky.”

“Okay, Mosshead, then what do you call this?”

You lightly tapped your cheek to indicate the very noticeable bruise that was just beginning to fade from his left cheek. 

“I call that luck.”

You let out a huff as you turned and faced forward. Leading him towards where you needed to go and reminding yourself that you needed to focus on the task at hand. Not Zoro. 

“You carry a knife with you but you don’t use it.”

He stated it as a fact. Not a question. Zoro already knew that it wasn’t used for self-defense. 

“I use it to treat and clean infected wounds and forage for ingredients.”

“But not for self-defense.”

You found yourself whirling on him again and this time he was prepared. His hand resting on the edge of his sword and hand infamously tucked inside his pocket. 

“I’m a doctor, Zoro. I follow Naan’s oath to never do harm to anyone-“

“And what if to help someone - yourself - it meant that you had to take a life to save theirs?”

He’d taken a step towards you. His whole body radiated with an intensity you hadn’t been prepared for. You could feel your muscles straining to stay in place; to not retreat. Zoro had closed what space you’d had between the two of you until all he’d left were a few measly inches. 

“I try not to let it come to that.”

“You don’t always get to decide like that, it's not how the world works. You keep thinking like that and you’re going to be a liability.”

Your eyes narrowed in on him and you felt yourself get on your tippy toes without thinking. Your index finger pressed into his stupidly hard chest as you looked up at him. 

“It is not a liability to give a shit about people, Zoro. To care about who they are with their own wants and dreams. What makes someone a liability is not knowing who is worth that effort and who isn’t.” 

You dropped back down onto your heels and turned to stomp your way into the trees. What did he know? So, you weren’t exactly a swordsman or incredibly stretchy, and while Usopp wasn’t necessarily the bravest man on the planet he was a damn fine shot. Nami could kick ass and was the best navigator. What did you bring to the table? 

No. You wouldn’t let him make you think that way. 

You hadn’t realized you’d gone farther than intended into the forest of trees until you noticed not only the green chiterra growing all over the sides of them, but also what looked like gold cap mushrooms. One that you knew to be poisonous. 

You put it in the back of your mind. You weren’t here to get things to harm people. That wasn’t who you were and you wouldn’t let this newfound journey, or anyone, change that. You unsheathed your knife from your satchel and started carefully scraping off the moss from the bark of the tree. 

“I could train you.”

Those four words stopped you mid-scrap. It had been roughly a few minutes - only a few - since you’d both been silent. You expected the rest of your time out here collecting ingredients to go relatively dull with you both pouting in your respective corners. Out of everything you could’ve expected, those four words were most definitely not it. 

“Huh?”

God, you really needed to get it together. 

Zoro grunted out a, “Fuck me,” before he gave you his full attention. 

“I said I could train you. If you want.”

Was it possible that Zoro, the demon pirate hunter, was nervous? You couldn’t believe it, and for that exact reason you didn’t think twice about it. However, you couldn’t pass up the chance to tease him. Just a little. 

“Did Roronoa Zoro - the demon pirate hunter - just offer to teach me how to kick ass?”

This whole entire trip was turning into one unexpected thing after another. The last thing you would’ve thought you would earn from your teasing was a grimace, maybe a smirk if you were lucky. Instead, your words generated an actual smile from the demon himself and you were devastated. 

“I thought you said you never heard of me?”

Oh, right. He was talking and he needed you to word back. Right. You could do that. 

“Luffy,” your voice cracked on your captain's name and you pretended to cough to clear your throat. “Luffy was telling me about the first time you guys met. It was truly a riveting moment.” 

“Okay, let’s back up,” you began, your fingers motioning like a wheel. You’d been sitting with Luffy at the table eating breakfast. What had come over you to ask about how he met Zoro was still currently pending investigation. Luckily for you, Luffy wasn’t going to question you on why you wanted to know. “Did you just say you met him tied up inside the marine yard?”  “He’d given himself up. Never told me exactly why he’d done that actually.” Luffy was perplexed for all of a millisecond before he sank his teeth back into the dry meat in his hand.  “Oh, well I’m sure he was happy you let him down.” “Actually, he told me to get lost.”  Yup, you were choking on a piece of toast. Luffy just stated it like it was useless information. Not that his first mate didn’t tell him to essentially fuck off during their first meeting.  “He told you to get lost?” “Yeah, he did.” “So, why did you even bother staying there? You could’ve just left.” A smile began to grow on his lips. It wasn’t his usual radiant one that could rival the sun, but a thoughtful one. It told you the memory of meeting Zoro meant something special to Luffy, and it made you regard the interaction a little less harshly.  “I couldn’t just leave him there. Not when he has a dream to fulfill.” While you were still debating on whether Luffy was a real person, there wasn’t any denying that he searched for the good in people. Whatever it was he’d seen in Zoro told Luffy he was a good guy.  “So,” you drawled out the o, “he told you to get lost and for some reason your brain heard those words as, ‘follow your dreams’.” “He isn’t a bad guy, Doc. I know Zoro is more than just a pirate hunter with a scary nickname. He is someone with a dream, just like you, and I’m going to make sure he reaches it.”

Looking at Zoro now, you could see what Luffy saw in him. Sure, he was quick to anger and even more quick to say shit without thinking it through, but who wasn’t at times? You had experienced first hand the good that lived inside of him. 

He’d helped you when he didn’t have to when you were sick. He shared a part of himself, a small part but still a part, to see who he was underneath all the attitude. While you weren’t in the business of hurting anyone, you debated on whether letting him train you would at least make you useful enough to save other members of your crew - maybe Zoro - if something came up. 

You did hit someone with a pot and punch Zoro in his face. What could learning a few moves going to do? 

“Alright, demon pirate hunter, I’ll consider it.”

—————————

He wanted to throttle Luffy. 

The way you kept looking at him - saying his nickname - was stirring something foreign in his chest. He may not know exactly what it was but he didn’t have too. His body was telling him plainly he should take back his invitation to spend more time alone with you. You were only going to get in the way of his goal. 

All of those made sense why he should retract his invitation and head back to the Merry. And yet…

“If it pumps up your ego, I’ll say it as many times as you like. For a price.” 

You wiggled your eyebrows at him and it was so unexpected Zoro wanted to laugh. His offer to help train you had been in the back of his mind, but when he went to offer it, it’d gone rougher than he’d intended. He hadn’t meant to make you feel bad - to call you a liability.  It wasn’t that he thought you would be an actual liability for Luffy. 

You were a liability for him. 

The way you were looking at him now, the smile on your face, gave him all the warning he needed to know you were a dangerous wildcard. He’d made a promise to Kuina and you felt like the one thing that could keep him from it. 

Whatever the feelings you were stirring in him were something he needed to be wary of. Zoro wasn’t going to have any of it. He made a promise a long time ago and he wasn’t going to let you or anyone else get in the way of him keeping it. 

He was so lost in thought that he wasn’t aware you’d gotten so close. It wasn’t until your fingers slid over his ear, placing something behind it, that he was jolted back into the present. 

“Oh, shit I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to freak you out.”

Your voice was breathy and sweet with your wide eyes looking up at him with something dangerously close to reverence. Close like at the dinner table. Close like when he’d tumbled out of the well and landed on top of you. Zoro still had the way your body felt under him burned into his memory. One he’d tried to erase with the bottles of liquor that now sat empty inside his room. 

His hand moved up to feel what you’d placed behind his ear, and his fingertips were greeted by the soft give of flowers. 

“Did you seriously just put flowers in my hair?”

Your response was maddening. Zoro watched as you brought your hands up to join your shrug, as if he wasn’t standing there, flowers now pinched between his fingers. 

“I think you look cute.”

Cute. 

“Yeah. That’s not me.”

In a show that it wasn’t him, that you and your stupid flower giving were just another nuisance, he opened his fingers and let them fall to the ground. Zoro watched as your eyes that had been brimming with sunshine were darkened by clouds of sadness. Even your earlier giddy step was replaced by slouched shoulders that suddenly looked as if the world weighed heavily on them. 

“Okay.”

Your reply was meek. If he wasn’t straining to hear it he would’ve missed it. You didn’t give him another glance or yell at him for being an ass. That was what he had expected; what he was still waiting for. Zoro had known you for a couple of days and within that time came to learn you were the most maddening person he’d ever met - second to Luffy. This? He didn’t like this. He liked it better when you fought back. When you told him what an asshole he was and when you touched him without thinking. 

Zoro watched as you went back to gently maneuvering your knife under the bark; skilled hands that removed pieces of that weird-looking fungus. You pulled an empty glass from your bag and, with the same gentleness, pushed it past the lip of the bottle to hold it inside. 

Cute. 

That’s what she’d called him. 

I am not cute. I’m the demon pirate hunter, Roronoa Zoro. 

He could feel his jaw flexing at the thought. Cute. Zoro has been called many things in his life, but cute was never one of them. His hand clenched and unclenched on the Wado Ichimonji as if asking - begging - what he should do. 

He couldn’t stay here much longer. Zoro didn’t know what to say and you obviously had no intention of speaking to him anytime soon. 

“Fuck this,” he whispered as he stalked off back out of the trees. 

He made it to the edge of the clearing where the sun fully broke free from the shade of leaves when you called to him. 

“Try not to get lost, Zoro. We both know you’ve got shit directional

skills.” 

He refused to admit he was happy to hear you say something. Even if that something was your usual shit-talking. Zoro grunted as a reply and quickly went back to walking out of the clearing when something - small and pure white - caught his eye out of his peripherals. 

It was huddled against the bark of a tree. Its petals were open and stark against the darkness. It took him a moment to recognize those white petals. What he found amusing was how the flower always seemed to be carrying its own weight on its shoulders; the neck of it dropping down like it’d just received devastating news. Zoro didn’t know why he gently plucked it from its resting spot. He couldn’t explain why after that he turned to head back in your direction. 

Zoro was trying to get away from you and here he was bringing a fucking flower back. You turned at his approach, your mouth already forming over some word. You never spoke what it was you wanted to say and you didn’t seem like you wanted to try either. 

Zoro placed the snowdrop behind your ear. Perfectly placing it to where the hanging bulb hugged the top of your ear to hang against your hair. 

“You left to go find flowers?”

Zoro shook his head. He stepped back just enough to see how it looked. He was a dumbass for doing this. 

“No, I was going to head back to the ship-“

“Figures-“

“When I saw this snowdrop by itself,” Zoro continued over you. “It made me think of you.”

“That feels oddly specific.”

He didn’t like how you were looking at him. More accurately, he didn’t like how you looking at him was making him feel. 

“It’s a snowdrop. They’re one of the most delicate flowers in the world.”

There it was. The darkening of those previous clouds now cracked to life with the spark of your anger. Zoro had to admit, he enjoyed getting you all riled up. What he wouldn’t tell you, is because they only grew at certain times and usually in the snow, it made them one of the most resilient flowers because they could grow under any conditions. 

“Are you calling me delicate?”

A huff left him as his eyes rolled up into the treeline. 

“I was trying to apologize earlier.”

“Oh.”

You’d started all that storm building just to deflate but also- 

“You sure have a way with words,” he teased. 

“My bedside manner is not the best, I’ll admit. I once told a dying man a joke about a pirate and marine having an entanglement. Naan said it probably wasn’t the most appropriate time.”

For some reason, Zoro could picture it. A man dying and you, being your nervous self, trying to make him laugh to ease his passing. The thought of it alone made a smile curl at his lips, and he tried to gently shake it away. To look at anything else but you. 

“What do I gotta do to hear one of these world-famous Doc jokes?”

He waited until his face was neutral to look back at you. Both hands rested on his swords as he watched you fill the bottle to the brim and place it securely inside your satchel. 

“For that kind of service? You have to be dying.”

“You’re a real pain in the ass, you know that?”

You were a pain in the ass. A pain in his ass. From the moment he met you until now and probably would continue to be. A pain that made him think of things outside of his goal. You made him think past his promise. Who was he if he didn’t keep it? He should’ve never offered to train you or willingly spend more time with you. He was going to have to take it back. It didn’t matter if it hurt your feelings or made you hate him. Maybe that’s what he needed to do to make you hate him-

“What are you doing?”

Zoro prayed that his face was devoid of any emotion. The panic that bloomed in his chest didn’t spread to where you could see. You’d placed your hand over your chest in a way Zoro knew too well. 

“I,” it was the first time Zoro ever heard your full name. “Promise to be the biggest pain in your - Roronoa Zoro’s ass - from now until whenever.”

For the second time, his hand was clutching onto the Wado Ichimonji today. While you spoke, Zoro could swear he saw flashes of Kuina standing behind you. The look of disappointment growing on her face. 

“You made a promise.”

Zoro couldn’t bring himself to speak. He couldn’t trust what he would say. So, he simply turned back on his heel and made a beeline back for the edge of the trees. This time when he reached it he didn’t stop. He had to get back to the safety of the ship where he could barricade himself from you behind wooden doors and booze because Zoro could really use a drink.

————————-

It has been two days inside the fog. Two days of Zoro avoiding you like you carried the plague back with you from Irkhaven. 

When you’d made that promise it was only meant to be good fun. You replayed over in your mind to see if you’d said something wrong - done something wrong to warrant the sudden extreme cold shoulder. 

Besides the time you’d been with Nami and Usopp, all of you shared thoughts about the naval battle that had happened and, who could forget, his very real vice-admiral of a grandpa. Who could launch cannonballs like paperweights. After that, Zoro didn’t come around you or close to you.

Sure, you would see him when he lounged on the deck napping like a cat in open spots. Hell, if Zoro wasn’t sleeping he was either drinking or training. You’d catch glimpses of him on the upper deck lifting weights with his arms and, sometimes, his mouth. 

The first time you saw him lifting eighty pounds with his teeth, you had about a thousand questions racing through your mind. If you thought he would answer you if you spoke, you might have asked him. 

You weren’t sure why it bothered you so much. It shouldn’t have even mattered whether he talked to you or not, but he’d offered to train you. Why bother asking to do something that required his time if he wasn’t willing to give it? These sorts of questions had been your own personal plague since he’d begun to give you the cold shoulder. 

You’d been sitting with your legs hanging out of the side of where the cannonball had blown an unfortunate hole through the Merry’s railing. It killed you to see her so broken; her intricate leafling design ruined all because of what felt like a family spat. Letting out a sigh, you pulled your legs out from over the side with a hand holding onto the rail so you didn’t fall into the sea. 

Once you were securely standing without fear of going overboard, you wrapped the leather cord that secured the pages of your journal around it. You were just finishing up tucking it in when Usopp began to shout, “I see something.” 

How anyone could see anything in this mess was beyond you, but then again Luffy was at the front of the Merry using his nose to guide you guys out of the fog so…yeah. Stranger things could and did happen. 

It was enough to garner your attention and bring you walking up to join the rest of the crew that had assembled. 

“I see nothing,” you stated. 

“I don’t know how anyone could see anything in this soup,” Nami agreed as she stirred the ship in the direction Luffy called. 

“You guys don’t see the red lights? How can you not see them?”

“Because, Usopp, I don't have eyes like an Eagle.”

You could feel the happiness your comment brought him as he continued to point in the direction of said light.

“Just keep your eyes posted right here in the center and you’ll see it, Doc. 

“3 degrees starboard, Nami and keep it straight.”

“I really wish you wouldn’t sit up there Luffy,” you called up to where he sat, legs wide, on the Merry’s headpiece. “What happens if you slip?”

“You're his crew mate. Not his mother. He doesn’t need you coddling him.”

You turned to find Zoro standing a few feet behind Usopp. He wasn’t looking at you but he’d just spoken to you. His first words in two days and it didn’t surprise you in the least they were his usual asshole tone. 

“Oh, so he can speak. What a shocker.” 

Zoro side-eyed you but still refused to acknowledge your presence. The soft bruise that was there two days ago at Irkhaven was all but a faded memory. You were tempted to make it a fresh one. 

“Okay you two let’s focus on-“ Usopp stopped mid-sentence as his eyes scanned over something in the distance. “What’s a baratie?”

You looked where he was and finally saw it. Red neon was bleeding its way into the fog. It was enough to make you forget about Zoro, your lack of clean clothes, or what had happened the last couple of days. It was land. You were finally going to actually put your feet down on something solid that wasn’t just the Merry. 

Nami stirred the Merry in and easily parked it at the next available dock. Immediately, people rushed out to begin tying the ship's ropes to posts to secure it in place. 

“Is it just me or does this look like a restaurant?” 

You meant your question to be open-ended. To allow anyone to answer in case what you were seeing was in fact a floating restaurant in the middle of the ocean. However, you were leaning against the rail next to Nami, with whom you pressed arm and arm. 

“I think it is.”

You were all still staring over the railing when Luffy asked excitedly, “Do you guys know what this means?”

“We stock up on supplies and keep going so the marines can’t find us?”

“We head back to Syrup village where it’s safe?”

“No - let’s go eat!”

You felt the blood drain from your face. You didn’t have much in the way of something to wear at an establishment like this. You were willing to bet you couldn’t just walk in wearing - or smelling - like you all did. You were getting ready to tell Luffy you’d hang back on the ship when you felt a hand gently wrap itself in yours. 

Glancing down at your interwoven hands and back up, you found Nami, her lips together in a soft smile, as she gave you a light tug to follow her. 

“Come on. You can borrow some of my clothes.”

You let out a raspberry, your hand squeezing hers briefly in relief. 

“Nami, you are a lifesaver.”

“That fish better have a bar.”

You weren’t going to say it out loud, but you agreed with Zoro. You were going to need the blissful ignorance of alcohol to make it through a dinner where you possibly ended up sitting next to him. 

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As always, thank you so much for reading. Comments and reblogs are welcome.

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#Chaos in Their Bones #ongoing series #one piece live action #opla zoro #roronoa zoro #one piece zoro #zoro #zoro x reader #zoro roronoa x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x you #one piece #one piece x reader #op zoro #opla zoro x reader #opla fanfiction #one piece fanfiction #frenemies to lovers #slow burn #friends to lovers #mutual pining #reader is referred to as Doc

[ayabeanworks]

Title: Hold me tighter

Synopsis: You knew Suguru wasn't well, and you did everything within your power to be there for him, including inviting yourself on a certain mission where two young girls were rescued.

Character: Geto Suguru x reader

Series: Let's Meet in the Spring (SaShiSu x reader)

Notes: Fluff, angst, swearing, feral!reader who probably hung out with Gojo too much, Geto pining, mentions of death and alludes to depression. AU where Geto doesn't defect.

Somewhat of a prequel to this AU.

You were amazing. You were strong. You were also terrifying.

That's how Geto Suguru saw you during a certain mission.

He and you had been assigned on the mission in a small town inhabiting only more of 100 people, with weird things like deaths and disappearances of the villagers.

You begged the higher ups to go because you were worried about Suguru's health, and you didn't want to leave him alone. You had noticed a downward spiral from him, and these days, it seemed to be getting worse. You also had a very bad feeling about this mission, and you were going to do whatever you could to make sure Suguru's sanity remained intact.

Even if the elders said no, you were going to go anyway. And that's exactly what you did.

"What exactly is this?"

Suguru had an expression of exasperation as he saw the young girls locked up in the wooden cage, bloodied and bruised, holding onto each other for support.

You could smell the thick scent of blood in the air, as well as see the dried, old patches of blood here and there when you eyes darted around the room. Apart from blood, there were other smells, similar to an abandoned alleyway where the homeless would reside.

Your jaw clenched and your eyes, widened with the need to see every and anything in the room, hoped they were lying when they landed on the girls. You counted the number of bruises on their limbs, the blood on their clothes, the blood on their face, the eye injuries each of them had.

It made your blood run cold. They looked to be just around 6-7 years old, only just old enough to understand and learn more complicated math in a school setting.

Not here.

Not here, bloodied and bruised.

It was like something inside you snapped, and all inhibitions went out the window. Like boiling water, it started to simmer, and you slowly turned to the two villagers as they conversed with Suguru, holding down your anger as your fists clenched and released.

"What do you mean? They're the cause of this, right?" One of the two who accompanied you both raised a hairy brow, his arm raising and trying to make a point.

"No." You could feel Suguru trying to continue being polite, but the slight edge in his voice was obvious.

"But those two strange ones are using their strange powers to attack the villagers!"

"I've already determined the cause of the incidents." Suguru gave a statement, one that he determined after being in the village for 5 days with you.

"My grandson was killed by these two." The older lady chipped in, a terrible frown on her wrinkly features.

Ugly.

Your shoulders relaxed and a light exhale released from your lips. You took a couple of steps forward to stand by Suguru, placing a hand on his shoulder softly, patting it a couple of times.

So they want to die?

Suguru glanced at you, his hand still up, about to summon a curse as he battled with his inner demons.

You gave him a little smile, one you'd give him all the time, but the underlying feeling made him tense. It was much darker, much more sinister.

"He's the one who-!" The girls from the cage exclaimed, but was shut down by the shouting of the male villager.

"Shut up, you monster!!! Your parents were exactly the same! We should have killed you when you were babies!"

"Shut the fuck up."

A loud thump from your fist embued with cursed energy, as well as a resounding crack from the same area tore a bloodhurdling scream from the middle aged male villager.

Suguru's eyes widened as his tensed hand lowered to his side, lips parting in shock at your actions.

That was the first time Suguru has ever seen you so angry you snapped. It sent chills down his spine and the hairs on his body to raise. His body tensed from the accumulation of cursed energy around you.

"Does having a broken rib hurt?" Your words were laced with worry, but with the unyielding mocking tilt in it, it was hardly convincing. "Do you want me to break your arm as well? That'll numb the pain a little."

You strode forward a couple of steps, coming in closer to the older male, crouching down slightly as you grabbed his arm roughly, pulling him in as your foot landed on the shoulder of the arm you pulled, about to dislocate his arm with a rough pull.

A strangled cry for you to stop made you raise your brow as a scowl adorned your face. Your eyes narrowed at the man below you. He was breathing heavily as he grabbed your ankle, trying to pry you off weakly, but to no avail. His grip was painfully weak, and he was struggling to breathe. You wondered if the broken rib pierced his lungs or any other organ?

"Oh? You want me to stop?" You taunted, an amused chuckle resonating through your chest. "Did you stop when you and the village were tormenting those poor kids? Beating them up and locking them up in here?" You dug your heel into his shoulder as you pushed him into the concrete wall, twisting it a couple of times for good measure. He writhed in pain as his grip on your ankle tightened, but you pulled at his arm, making him scream out.

The older lady on the side, who had been trembling the whole time in shock, suddenly let out a screech and flung herself at you, her arms flailing to hit you to let go of her fellow villager.

You grit your teeth as you grab the village man's arm with your left arm, using your elbow as an anchor point to throw a perfectly timed slap to the woman's face, causing her to hit the wall next to him after spinning in the air a couple of times.

"Wow, didn't know a human could spin so much. Especially for an old lady!" You light up into a smile. The smile didn't reach your eyes and was instead habouring a deep hatred for the types of people you were fighting, ready to rip off their arms and limbs if necessary.

"You can join you grandson now. I'm sure he's waiting for you."

What a sorry excuse for a human being.

"[name]..." Suguru called our your name hesitantly, glancing at the two girls in the wooden cage. They were trembling, hugging each other as they watched you. However, it didn't seem like they were scared. Their eyes showed admiration, and were widened in a surprise that could be interpreted as positive.

His eyes once again landed on you. You didn't even react to him saying your name - it was like you were in a state of mania, with such a fluctation in temperament and emotions, it felt like a different person. It didn't feel like you.

Did he even know you?

Who was the person in front of him?

He looked back at the girls, walking a couple of steps closer before trying to shield what you were doing with his body.

"Answer my question. Did you or did you not stop when you were tormenting those kids?" You looked to the wall where the woman hit, seeing her barely unconscious on the ground after the smack made her life flash before her very eyes.

The villager man screamed, "I-AAHHh-hah, you...you'RE THE DEVIL!"

"Oh, wow, you think I'm the devil?" You didn't even miss a beat at responding, giving him a doe eyed look to vouch for your innocence. Your expression shifted to a crazed grin, a laughter erupting in your throat as you pulled roughly at his arm, a loud pop ringing in the air as you dislocated it. You let him scream, collapsing over as you let go of his arm, allowing it to drop to his side as he cried, streaks of tears staining his shirt as drool flowed out of his mouth at the pain. You lean in, a smile on your lips as you coo at his current state, "Honey, if I'm the devil, then what are you and the other villagers? I think you're all devil's incarnate, so we should be the same, no? Why the scared face? Just like you said, I'm a devil. No, we're both devils."

You watch as his expression contorts to one where he wanted to scream something in your face, anger taking hold of him as the fear takes a seat. He was sweating, and the colour was draining from his face from the pain you inflicted.

You could only chuckle at his sorry state, clicking your tongue at him a couple of times. "But there's one thing you got wrong, darling. I'm not the devil, I'm your grim reaper."

You pull your foot back as the man's consciousness finally breaks, and he slumps over to join his fellow unconscious villager after enduring the pain.

"Didn't even answer the fucking question." You muttered, clicking your tongue once more. You fished your phone from your pocket and gave a call to the Windows nearby to alert them of what happened.

As you did so, Suguru watched you. He was frozen in his spot, unable to move. He was in shock at the way you handled the two just now. It was different to when you sparred together, and it made him realise you always unconsciously held back.

While he watched you release your anger at them, he had calmed down. His mind and heart less cloudy than before as he watched everything unfold before him. It gave him a rationality of thought, juxtaposed with your outburst. It almost made thinking a lot easier, with you by his side in such a state.

It reminded him of his best friend Satoru, and he wondered how much time you spent with him to become like this. After all, that mocking tone and speech was actually quite similar that it scared him - or, did you have this side hidden the whole time, but had control over yourself that you didn't break until the situation called for it?

By no means did he condone what you did, but if you didn't handle it the way you did, he didn't know what he would've done. He was so close to breaking that it was almost a miracle he didn't.

"[name]." Suguru repeated your name again after you finished your phone call, taking a couple of steps towards you.

"Hm, yes, Sugu?" You questioned him with a genuine smile. Your usual smile was on your lips as you tilt your head slightly at him, wondering what he wanted to ask.

He paused, wondering which was the real you. The switch was so fast, and oh so sudden. Your cursed energy had dissipated and wasn't so condensed, and your calm temperament was back. It confused him, and he wondered if he was in the wrong for thinking of such horrible things before you literally broke a person's rib.

He grabbed the hand you used to hit the man in the stomach and slap the other, seeing no injuries. Gliding his thumb over the areas that made contact, he closed his eyes for a moment, heaving a light sigh, before making eye contact with you again.

"We should get the girls to safety." You nod to the girls in the cage, placing a hand on Suguru's hand as you pat it a couple of times before releasing from his grip.

Suguru watched as you broke the lock of the cage, taking the girls out carefully. They latched onto you and murmured quiet thank yous as they cried in your arms. It hurt his heart to see such young children suffer from the hands of horrible adults. They didn't deserve this.

He walked over and leaned down slightly, placing his large hands on the girls' heads, gently ruffling their hair. He also ruffled your one too since you were crouched down to their level, a funny noise coming from your throat at the unexpected affection. Seeing your reaction, the girls glanced at each other and did the same, placing their hands gently on your head as they pet it like they did a small animal.

You laughed lightly, a sound so delightful to Suguru's ears at this current moment that it slowly wedged its way into his darker thoughts.

"The Windows should be here soon," You looked from Suguru to the girls, "We'll be taking you back with us. You'll be provided shelter and food, and life will be much better than here." You grabbed a hand from each girl, thumb caressing the back of their hand.

They fervently nodded their heads, ready to depart from the wretched village they used to call home.

The minute the four of you arrived back at Jujutsu High, you were pulled over by an angry Yaga, who began berating you for going on the mission regardless of what the elders have said, and that you were to see them immediately.

"This is unlike you, [name]! Suguru could have handled it on his own." Yaga pinched his nose bridge, obviously frustrated at your handling of the situation.

You crossed your arms, quickly glancing over at Suguru, the girls and the Window accompanying them. They were watching you, and the girls were getting tugged to go to Shoko for their injuries, but they didn't want to leave since you were getting yelled at.

You met Geto's eyes, which held yours for a moment, before you looked back at Yaga with a heavy exhale. "Well, yes." You said simply. Yaga stared at you like you'd grown another head, wondering why what you said was different from your actions.

"Since you understand that, then why--"

"So do the elders want to see me now?" You interrupted. You didn't want to hear it from him nor did you want to elaborate. It wasn't like they were going to understand what you were doing anyway.

Yaga made an expression he normally did when dealing with Satoru, before sighing. "They'll see you now. You're probably not going to get out of this unscathed."

"So what are they going to do? Kill me? The villagers are still alive and well, just a little bit in pain." You waved at the girls and Suguru as you left with Yaga.

"I'll be back in a bit. Gonna get ripped a new one." You joked light-heartedly. It was the elders, after all. They're going to rip into any and every material and weakness they had on you so they could bring you under their control.

But you weren't going to succumb.

No fucking way.

Suguru watched as you left, his waving hand falling to his side. He felt little hands grab his pants as you left, each one belonging to the little girls saved.

"Is [name] going to get in trouble for saving us?" Their worried tone of voice was so sweet, so young, it hurt Geto.

He shook his head, "Only a little bit. But they'll be ok." He placed his large hands on each of their heads and ruffled their hair gently, careful not to get any healing areas.

"I think [name] will be happy if you go to Shoko and get healed up." Suguru nodded at the Window, who tried to get the little girls with them.

The girls stared up at him for a moment, then let go and nodded, trusting his words. They each grabbed the Window's hands and asked them to lead the way.

And, Geto Suguru was alone once again with his thoughts, the whole fiasco weighing on his mind as his feet took him to your room.

Geto Suguru wandered why he sat in your room all the time. He practically lived in there now, with how often he was there instead of his own room or house.

You often dragged him when you saw him alone, to your room so he could keep you company, citing 'loneliness', but really, later down the track he realised he was the one needing your company instead, and he looked forward to when he was able to be around you. He also knew you weren't really 'lonely', but rather wanted him to know someone was willing to be there for him.

Could you read minds?

Sure, his other best friend Satoru wasn't around as often due to taking more solo missions, and Shoko was in the morgue, but at least he was able to see her. But out of the three, he saw you the most, and he was glad he did.

When did it start?

He wondered when he started coming to yours, now considered normal without any asking, without any hesitation.

He thinks it was right after the mission with Riko, the star plasma vessel. That was when you started inviting him to things way more often, trying whatever you could to fill up his time and space whenever Satoru and Shoko weren't there. So he was never alone.

The compliments, the time, attention, and love he was showered was almost too much for him when he realised it after this specific mission, and he had to lean forward and hold his head in his hands as the burden of his own thoughts made his eyes glassy.

The one who had reached out their hand, unwavering and steady, was you.

It was always you.

And since it started, the others did their best to support whenever they could, and that would've been an effort on your behalf, most likely you letting them know what you were doing.

Geto let out a choked sob as he let the tears fall in silence. Even though it tore him inside with which side he wanted to take when it came to protecting or not protecting non-sorcerers, he thought of you, he thought of Satoru, and he thought of Shoko. He thought of the girls you and him rescued, and the lives of the other sorcerers he went to school with. He thought of the non-sorcerers who didn't understand what it meant to live as a shaman, and he thought of the ones who cried and thanked him gratefully.

He hated the Jujutsu society and how it was structured. He hated how non-sorcerers were the bane and root of their existence, and the discrimination that comes with being a Jujutsu sorcerer as a minority.

Even though he was combating the very notion of accepting either side of the war raging inside him, he wondered how you were able to be as you are. How you were able to continue on your missions, how you were able to continue on the marathon race called shamantism? Did it not affect you?

But he knew it did, but how deeply he did not know.

He had heard you crying your heart out for Haibara, who was easily one of your favourite underclassmen, alone, when you woke up in the middle of the night before and during the mission you both came back from. But, even though he heard your sobs and cries, he couldn't say anything. All he could do was pretend to sleep and move so one of his arms was draping over you stomach, his forehead touching your shoulder as a way of saying 'I'm here for you'.

He would notice the way you calmed down when he did so, and it was something he noted for next time.

In his mind, he could recognise your smile and your voice, every one of your words drilled into his head as the tears fell onto the floorboards.

He was originally doing this for himself and wanted a solid foundation to base his beliefs off. Before, it was strong, but after the Riko mission, it faltered, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to continue down the same path.

And now, he was at a crossroad.

He wanted to trust in those who had faith in him, and the good in the people who were not the bad kind of non-sorcerers. Because the world had both. If his noble cause was just to protect the weak, those who weren't able to protect themselves and were good people, then so be it. Those who were corrupt, there will be another punishment waiting for them.

And so, he made up his mind.

"Sugu! Those elders put me under house arrest! For disobeying orders!" You opened the door to your room, half exclaiming and half grinning at the punishment given.

You gave a momentary pause when you saw Suguru with his head in his hands, hunched over where he normally sat at the foot of your bed.

With your arrival, he looked up, his loose hair slightly covering his face. But you could tell, he looked like he'd been crying, or was he still crying?

You took off your shoes, shut the door and immediately made a beeline to him, standing between his legs and cupping his cheeks with both your hands as you stared at him, searching his eyes for answers, for reasons, for everything. He stared up at you, sniffing every couple of seconds as his tears dried.

"Sugu." Your voice was a whisper, "What are you thinking?"

The softness of your voice didn't go unnoticed. Suguru always noticed. His hands hesitantly held your wrist, fingers wrapped around loosely so if you wanted to get out of his grip, you could.

The silence was palpable. It was heavy, and it tasted thick. He could only feel the warmth of your hands on his face and the warmth radiating off the close proximity of your body.

Since you didn't get an answer straight away, you gently swiped your thumb in the area just under his eyes like he did for you, on both sides, one at a time. He blinked a couple of times, the grip on your wrists loosening further as it fell down between his legs.

When you ran your fingers through his hair as a makeshift comb, he closed his eyes, basking in the affection you gave him, calming his tumultuous heart.

"Thank you..." His words were quiet, all too quiet that it seemed like you were the only one who he spoke to, in the bubble of the two of you, "For coming with me on that mission."

You hummed lightly as you continued to thread your hands through his hair, giving him a light head massage here and there as he struggled to find the words to convey his thoughts to you.

"I wavered." It was a statement, a statement that had many emotions in it, spoken to himself more than to you. It made you pause your movements, the raw feeling of his words sinking into you as you waited for him to continue, along with your massage.

"After Riko's death, those non-sorcerers, those monkeys, I can still hear them clapping, applauding her death." Suguru lets out a breathy sigh at the end, finally letting out his thoughts. "I used to believe the strong exists to protect the weak. But now...what about the strong? The strong are dying because of these non-sorcerers, because they aren't able to control their cursed energy, and they create curses that cause our deaths. There's no end."

"Being a Jujutsu sorcerer is a marathon race. What if...at the end, it's just a pile of our corpses? Our friends' corpses?" Suguru opened his eyes again, holding a sadness in his eyes he wasn't able to show until now.

You put your hands back on his cheeks. "Do you still believe the strong exists to protect the weak?"

You weren't able to answer this marathon race question. It was impossible to. Whatever answer you had, it would be negative. And you didn't want to dampen his spirits with something he already knew, deep inside him.

It was silent before he finally replied, "I don't know."

"The strong protect the weak. That was your philosophy, wasn't it?" A pause, "It's also what makes the strong, strong. You know, if there weren't any 'weak' people, you wouldn't even be considered 'strong', you know."

"As someone who's been saved by the strong and now becoming stronger because of them, I will hold that in my heart forever. Those non-sorcerers and sorcerers you've saved, Sugu, will remember you as their saviour."

Suguru's lips parted, but he closed them again, waiting for you to continue. He didn't know what to say.

"If you decide you don't want to protect non-sorcerers anymore and you look down on them, and it's the alternative to saving non-sorcerers because they're weak, then..." Your forehead presses on his as you close your eyes, "I'll let you go."

Suguru's throat became dry. He wanted to badly to say that he wasn't going to leave, but he couldn't deny the feelings he had when it came to whichever road he would pick.

"But, if you do end up hating non-sorcerers, you'll become one of those corpses you didn't want to see. And as a fellow sorcerer, I'd hate for that to happen." You lean down and move to hug him to your smaller body, pressing his face into the crook of your neck.

"Non-sorcerers are weak, yes, but they can also be strong. Not strong enough to kill curses, but strong in other aspects. Strength is not equal to pulverising curses." You gently pet the back of his head, "Riko was strong, wasn't she? She's not a bad non-sorcerer. She was almost like a friend to you, wasn't she?"

Suguru's arms wrap around your mid section, grabbing onto the back of your shirt like life support. "...yes." He managed to whisper.

"There's good and bad in everyone, Sugu, regardless of if they're sorcerers or not. If you're worried about the sorcerers in the world, wouldn't it be best to fix it at its core rather than to to just kill them all?"

Suguru didn't respond. He already had his answer.

You felt a wetness on your neck as his body shook, sobs ripping through his body as relief filled his veins at your words. You hummed, gently patting his back as he cried.

You knew, Suguru was a soft person inside. No matter how troublesome he and Satoru can become when they're together, Suguru was undoubtedly the softer one. Satoru also had a soft heart, but he had walls and walls around so it wasn't easily penetrated. Whereas for Suguru, the environment he's in affects him easier, and the suffering of others will easily shake him. Especially with his job as a sorcerer, it was even harder since it was a job with an abundance of negative energy.

You must've stayed like this for a while, and you felt him move to face you, his face still in your neck. You could feel his exhales on your skin, a soft hum from him as he murmured an apology to you into your skin.

"You okay there, Sugu?" You leaned your head on his, nuzzling a little.

He let go of the back of your shirt, and instead grabbed your waist and under your legs, bringing you to his lap as you yelped in surprise at the sudden lightweightedness.

"Sorry, it's easier this way." He adjusted you so you were directly in front of him, your legs to the side on the bed. His arms encased you as he hugged you tighter than before, not wanting to let go. He wanted to feel your pulse and heartbeat, to know you're present and there with him.

He buried his face into the crook of your neck again, his eyes closing as he tried to burrow impossibly closer, just like you're his lifeline.

You didn't mind since occasionally he would do this, but as of now, this was the most intimate he had become with you, and it was making your heartbeat speed up.

You tried to calm yourself as you continued to pat his back and smooth the back of his hair, chin on his shoulder as you leaned your head on his.

"Your heart's racing." You felt his lips curl into a smile, "You like this?"

Slightly annoyed by his teasing during such a tender moment, especially for him, the next pat was a lot harsher than the rest of them. You pouted as he chuckled into your skin, loosening his grip. He kept one arm around you as he wiped any tears with his sleeve, gently patting the areas on you he made damp.

You noticed he looked a lot better. A lot lighter, even. Even though he was crying, whatever was weighing him down seemed to have lessened or disappeared, like it was never there in the first place. It was like the Suguru pre star plasma vessel mission had returned.

You unknowingly held your breath, wondering if the Suguru in front of you would go back to the one who was conflicted.

"Do I have something on my face?" Suguru could feel your intense gaze on him the whole time, and he felt like he was under a microscope at how strong your gaze was.

He suddenly became self-conscious; did he look that bad after crying?

"You're back." You stated, almost incredulously.

At the tip of his tongue, he wanted to ask 'I'm back?', but he realised, you meant him. You meant the him from before Riko, the him before he started spiralling. The him who had a strong resolve and foundation.

"I've always been here." He gave you a little smile, the smile sincerely reaching his eyes as he gave you a little forehead bump.

You felt a blush rise to your cheeks at such a gentle motion, not unnoticed by him.

"You blush at this but not the hugging before?" He stared at you like you were the strangest thing on this earth, but the mirth was clearly dancing around his purple eyes, making you hit him lightly in the chest, giving him an unimpressed look.

"Welcome back, I guess." You rolled your eyes playfully at him, but you were glad he was back.

"So what's this about a house arrest for you?" Suddenly, you remembered you'd come to deliver the news to him after your meeting with the elders.

"Ah, yeah, so I'm under house arrest! For 1 week! They told me to not leave the school and if I do, they're gonna do something." You tried to recall the information, but all you had in your head was Suguru, Suguru and more Suguru.

You blinked once, twice, thrice, but you couldn't remember shit all. "Maybe I should get 'toru to bail me out if I get in trouble. He can threaten them easily."

"...why not me?" Suguru gave his best attempt at puppy dog eyes, making your brows raise at him for the effort.

"Nice try," You pinch his cheeks, trying to stop the smile from pulling your lips upwards, "I don't want you going alone, so go with 'toru if you want to. Double trouble from the two strongest sorcerers, right?" You finally give him a grin as he held a baffled look.

Then, he laughed.

The sound was like a melody to your ears, one which was so genuine and heartfelt, one you hadn't heard in so long. It moved you.

"I'll do that, then. Does that mean you have to stay here the whole time?"

"Nah, as long as I'm in Tengen's barrier."

"That's a pretty good holiday for you."

"I know right?"

"You've worked hard enough so I think you deserve some rest."

The chatter continued until the night, until you fell asleep on him from how tiring the whole day was. Geto cradled you close, like you were made of glass (not that he wasn't hugging you like his lifeline before). Instead of caressing your cheek like he was used to, this time, he mustered up some courage, gave a quick peck on your cheek, then nuzzled your cheeks together as he stood up and got you into your bed.

As he tucked you in, he gently pushed the stray hairs out of your face, his finger caressing your cheek ever so gently.

"...thank you, [name]." He spoke so, so softly he barely heard his own voice, a calm and gentle smile on his face as he reluctantly left. He was going to hop into bed next to you to sleep as well, but he figured he should clean up first before doing so.

Turns out, Suguru didn't have any missions in the same week you were under house arrest.

You were still sleeping even after Suguru tried to wake you up in the morning, so he just left you there so you could rest. After all, you probably needed some extra time since you worked so hard for him.

"I'm surprised I don't have any missions this week." The martial artist sat down with a cup of tea.

"Wonder why that is?" Shoko had shrugged off the question, eating together with the curse manipulation user in the common area.

She already knew why that was, since she heard it all from you, but she wasn't going to tell Suguru so easily.

"[name] probably complained to the elders." Suguru stated with a laugh. He could see it happening, with you giving them attitude until you got what you want. Almost like a kid trowing a tantrum.

Shoko let out a hum as she agreed. There was a little more to the story, but he didn't need to know yet.

They were so worried about you they actually begged the elders this time. Probably the first time they've begged them, so they allowed it with one condition: [name] had to do whatever they wanted for a week after their house arrest.

But Suguru didn't need to know that, at least, until [name] told him, which they probably didn't want to do.

Seeing Shoko's nonchalant personality was normal, but for Suguru he felt like there was definitely something she knew. After all, [name] was at Shoko's before they came back to their room yesterday. And knowing the elders and from what [name]'s said about them, Suguru assumed there would be some form of condition.

Seeing he wasn't convinced, Shoko decided she was going to allude to it a little, since [name] probably wasn't going to say anything.

To speed up the process, was Shoko's determining factor.

"I think they're going to be quite busy after their week off. My spider senses are telling me this." She joked, leaning back on the chair.

Suguru thought for a moment, "So the elders are going to force [name] to go on difficult missions."

Shoko shrugged, taking out a cigarette and placing it between her lips. She didn't light it inside, but it didn't feel right without it. "Aren't they already doing that?"

Geto didn't give a response, thinking what the elders would do especially since [name] was involved. From his observations, they were much more strict on you than they were on anybody else. Satoru could get away with things because he was one of the strongest and could actually end them and everything else, but you on the other hand, were not able to do that and effectively just danced in the palm of their hands trying to bite your way out.

He let out a low hum in thought. If he was granted no missions during this time and you were under house arrest, but Shoko alluded to you being busy the next week even after knowing you'll be taking up missions just like usual, that effectively means something was up. Was there another variable he wasn't sure about? Did you have something to do with him having no missions right now?

"Shoko, why not just tell me [name] had a deal with the elders?" He let out a sigh at the roundabout way of getting to the answer. "I'm guessing they agreed to do whatever the elders asked for, for 1 week, right? In exchange for giving me a break and going on that mission even after getting told not to."

"Bingo." Shoko made finger guns at his correct answer. She definitely didn't tell him, he just figured it out on his own, she tells herself.

Suguru's lips pressed into a thin line, wondering what the elders had planned. After all, you were a semi grade-1 sorcerer, but you kept getting pushed into missions which were grade 1 or higher, somehow managing to always come back alive even after facing a grade 1 curse.

Which is why the elders were always assigning you to go on difficult missions.

"You know, the girls you brought back, Mimiko and Nanako, are doing well. They've been put into a foster home associated with Jujutsu High, so you'll be able to see them if you want." Shoko forgot to give him this piece of information.

"That's good to hear." He smiled, now knowing the girls were doing well. It brought him back to the day prior, where he was so, so close to losing it and choosing another path. "I'm sure [name] would like to see them too."

Shoko shifted in her seat when she heard your name from his lips this time, finding it was different to earlier. It was softer? She couldn't quite put her finger to it, but it was like his soft spot for you was even softer than before, if that could even be a thing.

"You sound like a lovesick fool." Shoko commented with a non-commited laugh. She was just teasing, but she was also curious.

Suguru rolled his eyes at her, taking a sip of his tea. "They saved them too. Of course they'd want to see them."

He didn't agree nor deny, making Shoko raise her brows in surprise.

"I heard my name." You yawned as you entered the common area, still in the clothes you wore yesterday.

"Looks like you slept well." Geto examined your hair, which stuck up in some places, a smile on his face at the scene.

You hummed in response, giving a wave to both of them before sauntering over to the kitchenette to make yourself a glass of warm water, uncaring of the eyes trailing after you.

Shoko's gaze landed on Suguru, watching him watch you.

His gaze on you was definitely different. She definitely wasn't seeing things. She swore it was softer than before. The way his expression changed to a more relaxed one the minute you came into the picture, the way his shoulders relaxed when he talked to you, the tone of his voice shifting spectacularly to include an affectionate tilt, all of it was presented right in from of Shoko, who had known Suguru for a while, so she could tell these differences easily.

Wow, damn. He's down bad.

She smirked to herself, wanting so badly to tell Satoru of Suguru's little crush.

Except, both of them would probably deny it to the ends of the earth.

You slip into the seat next to Geto, eyes half open as you slowly blinked away your sleepiness, drinking the water here and there. Suguru laughed lightly at your state, scooting a little closer to detangle your hair with his fingers, running his hands through your hair to fix it.

Shoko's eyes nearly bulged out of her head, watching this blatant public display of affection. She was used to Suguru being a little touchy with [name] and expressing it here and there, but this was a new high. It made her sip the coffee she'd forgotten she had on the side, not sure if she should be there to experience such a thing.

You hummed in content, "Thanks Sugu."

"Should've brushed your hair before coming out." He gently chided, taking a sip of his tea.

"Probably should've changed, too..." You yawn again, taking another sip of water. "But yeah, I'd like to see the kids too, Shoko, when they're ready and all healed up."

Shoko, having been distracted for a moment, returned to her nonchalant self as she grinned, promising to let both of you know when that was possible.

The week of house arrest was a blessing for you, especially before the files for the missions you were undertaking were handed to you by a Window.

There were 2 missions you were asked to undertake - a grade 1 solo mission, and then a special grade one with Satoru.

A special grade with Satoru? If you didn't already feel alarmed, you were definitely feeling alarmed now. Hell, if Satoru is on any missions, it meant that there was serious harm that could be done.

You flipped through the papers wordlessly, your expression changing here and there before going back to normal.

These were the two missions asked by the elders, the ones who you were to obey for the week.

There can't be anything good here, you thought, going through the documents a second time to remember the information.

"Are you going on a mission soon?" Suguru suddenly appeared out of nowhere, nearly making you jump in surprise. His face was right next to yours, overlooking your shoulders to peer at the documents.

"Yeah, these two are for next week. One solo, one with 'toru." You showed him the front pages of each and the basic information.

He let out a low hum in response and pulled back, plucking the papers with him to sift through them.

He already knew they were missions the elders specifically picked out for you, but for one with Satoru? He was sure something was up there.

Of course, you didn't know he knew about your little deal with the elders, and he didn't plan on telling you he knew. Instead, he just showed up wherever you were because he wanted to be near you. And, who knows, the elders might have something planned so he wanted to know you were safe.

"It's too bad I have my own missions to go to. Otherwise I'd have gone with you." He handed you back the papers, seeing your confused expression.

"I'm sure the elders would love that." You spoke sarcastically, but laughed all the same. It would've been great to go on missions with Suguru, just like not too long ago. "Maybe we'll go on missions together soon!"

"I'd like that."

He'll pretend he didn't see the big red words on the special grade mission with Satoru, one which spelled out '2 special grades'.

"So, apparently there are 2 special grades." Satoru ate a crepe filled to the brim with toppings, walking side by side with you as you both headed to the site of the mission.

He'd come back a day or so ago and didn't even bother looking through the documents, leaving it to you since you had them before him. Also because he was strong and he didn't care enough; he would've beaten them regardless.

"Which is why I have no idea why I'm here." You muttered, sighing. You snack on your on crepe, much more simple than his, wondering why in the earth the elders wanted to put you on such a mission. You were semi grade 1, for fuck's sake! Just because you survived a special grade and grade 1 mission before doesn't necessarily mean you'll survive the next ones?!

Satoru glanced at you and took a large chomp of his crepe, munching gleefully. Once he finished that bite, he said, "They should've sent Suguru with me if anything."

"I know right? Special grades against special grades, not special grade and semi grade 1 versus 2 special grades. Are they telling me to die?" You let out an exasperated sigh.

"They're probably planning something." Satoru and you both knew how much they were assholes, but cunning was also a word that could be used to describe them.

He left out the part about how he knew you did this for Suguru, and all the nitty gritty details Shoko filled him in about after he came back from the mission prior. He also left out the information only he has access to, one which was more in line with the ability you had, that the elders were convinced you were able to awaken at a later stage.

After all, if you could unlock your cursed energy output channels so abruptly and have so much CE, there was bound to be some locked potential there, right?

Which is why you were put onto this mission to assist Satoru.

"Let's just get this over and done with." You finished the rest of your crepe, downing some bitter green tea before heading to the Windows waiting at the site.

Satoru followed you, feeling the CE ooze strongly from the site.

This will be interesting.

A couple of nights after you and Satoru went on the mission, Suguru began to get worried. He shouldn't be worried about you since you were with the Gojo heir, but he couldn't shake the feeling something happened to you.

It was when he woke up from a nightmare of you dying in his arms that he feels his stomach drop, and cold sweat run down his face and body.

The feeling was unmistakenably so humane, so real that it fucked his head in. He sat up in bed for a moment, feeling your side of the bed before finding it cold and empty. He started to panic, wondering if the dream was indeed real, but then he realised you were still on a mission, and it's been a couple of days since you went. He sighed to himself, slipping out of the covers to go cool down.

When he opened the door, he saw the light at the end of the hallway was open, the one belonging to the common room.

He didn't know what time it was, but it definitely wasn't a time to be up. But, he still went, curious about who was up this late.

"Satoru?" He questioned, seeing the white haired man in question sprawled out on the couch. "You two finished the mission?"

"Yeah." Gojo leaned back, turning his head to meet Suguru's tired ones. "Can't sleep?"

"Had a nightmare."

"Yikes."

"Where's [name]?"

"Getting examined by Shoko."

"What happened to them?" Suguru didn't want to sound too panicked, but Satoru could see through him right away.

"[name]'s fine. Maybe super tired now since they activated their curse technique for the first time."

"Cursed technique?" Suguru echoed. From what he knew, you didn't have a CT.

"Yeah." Satoru leaned on one side, crossing his legs as he faced Suguru. "Nullfication. Can cancel anything with cursed energy within a radius of 2 metres. Curses die just being in contact with it, but depends on grade."

"Isn't that an extremely rare ability?" Geto had to get himself something to drink, he was parched. He also made one for Satoru as well, knowing he'd want one too after the mission.

"Yeah. It bypassed my infinity." Satoru made an expression as he clicked his tongue, "But then my infinity worked again. Was the first time something like this happened."

Suguru couldn't help but let his jaw drop. "Is that even possible?"

Satoru frowned, taking the cup from Suguru and taking a drink. "I don't know, but the CT uses CE to maintain it. Still trying to figure out how it works."

Suguru breathed out in relief, "Wow."

"Not a moment to be celebrating, Suguru." Satoru clicked his tongue at him again, "I think this was exactly what the elders wanted."

Suguru backtracked for a moment - he knew the elders wanted something, but this? He didn't expect them to look at [name] and go 'this one will have a CT manifested'. Usually CT are manifested at an earlier age, so for you to awaken one so much later was a miracle in itself.

"Back then, and now, too." Gojo let out an exasperated sigh. "Those old bastards."

Suguru finished off his drink, "I'm going to go see them."

"Oh, ok." Satoru saw Suguru's expression, it did hold worry, but it was more contemplative due to the situation around it. He quickly finished off his drink and followed his best friend.

Suguru breathed a sigh of relief he didn't know he was holding when he saw you getting a check up from Shoko. You looked tired, but you were still alive and kicking.

"Sugu? Why are you awake? It's 3am." You raise a brow, then quickly realised Shoko was up too because of you and apologised with a little bow.

"I couldn't sleep." He strode to where you were. The tension in his body was replaced with relief as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a hug. He nuzzled into your hair, even if it was dirty from the mission.

"Sugu? I haven't cleaned up, you know." You let out a laugh as you let him do his thing, giving him a light hug back and some pats on the back.

Satoru made an expression, almost pouty, before he also came over and enveloped both you and Suguru into a hug. "I don't know what's going on but I'll hug you too. Shoko, come!" He dragged her by the arm so everyone was in a hug, much to your delight.

It's been a while since there was a group hug.

"If the elders say anything, drop my name and I'll come kill them." Satoru murmured, ready to throw hands. He nuzzled his face into the top of your head, ignoring how his hair tickled Suguru and Shoko's noses.

"If you do that, let me examine their dead bodies." Shoko joked.

"If there are any difficult missions, bring me or Satoru along." Suguru scrunched his nose as he delved deeper, leaning his body weight on you ever so slightly.

"Guys, I think I'll pass out..." You tapped at their arms, not having enough strength to pull them off.

Not even a minute passed and you were tucked into your bed, the other three shoved into your bed with you, hugging at least one part of your body as they drifted off into sleep.

You were facing Suguru, who hadn't slept yet, but was waiting for you to close your eyes and rest.

"Sugu, let's visit the kids soon, ok?" You yawned, closing your eyes, "Goodnight."

He moved slightly to bump his forehead to yours, moving back when a small smile curled your lips. He was ready to sleep now, and he didn't think he'd have anymore nightmares.

"Let's do that. Goodnight."

A/N: This is almost a little prequel to this angsty one, but can be a fluffy-ish angsty-ish standalone as well!

Fun fact, after Suguru cried his eyes out, his eyes were puffy for the first day of this break, and you and Shoko gave him so much shit for it.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #geto suguru #jjk season 2 #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #jjk fluff #jjk gojo #jjk x reader #jjk spoilers #ieiri shoko x reader #jjk shoko #shoko ieiri #jujutsu kaisen shoko #jujutsu shoko #geto #suguru geto x reader #jjk geto #geto x reader #jujutsu geto #suguru #suguru x reader #getou suguru x reader #jjk suguru #jujutsu kaisen suguru

[miracleonice87]

new heights, new news, new baby

part of the kissing kelce universe

a/n: I've come to the conclusion that I will never be organized enough to make this a well-planned, thought-out, sequential series, so I've decided I'm just gonna post things hella outta order and then reorganize them into a chronological masterlist. deal? deal. 🤝 enjoy more daddy-to-be trav and, introducing, supportive uncle jason. takes place the day travis leaves for chiefs training camp.

warnings: mention of pregnancy / babies, mention of anxiety / sadness / loneliness, plenty of crying both happy and sad teras, swearing, I think that's it

word count: ~4,400+

___

July 22, 2023

“Now, before we get into our training camp preview and talk about some expectations for the season, Travis, you had a little something you wanted to say to the good folks at home?” Jason prompted, teeing up his brother on this week’s New Heights episode – the last they’d record before they both left for their respective camps. 

Travis nodded, his blue eyes sparkling. “A little something, indeed, my brother,” he teased. “We have an announcement today, y’all! Alright nah!”

“Some new news, one might say!” Jason added, referencing the beloved segment of their podcast. 

“NEW NEWS!” Travis shouted excitedly. “Yo, can I get a drumroll please?”

Jason immediately started rolling his tongue, pretending like he had drumsticks in his hand. Travis continued, speaking over the sound. 

“This is like, the biggest announcement of my whole entire life. There were points where I never thought I’d be sharing news like this. It’s so crazy that I even get to do this right now. Gah dang. But, uh, anyway, I know we joke around here a lot, but this is a big one, folks, and I-”

Jason interrupted his brother’s emotional rambling, as well as his own sound effects. “Get to the point, please, my mouth is getting tired!” Jason picked his drumroll back up seamlessly as Travis giggled like a schoolboy. 

“Alright, y’all… here we go,” Travis said, rubbing his hands together mischievously. “Mrs. Kelce, would you please come over here, sweetness?” he requested, his voice syrupy smooth as he extended a hand, inviting you into the camera shot. 

Instead of crouching to put your face into frame as you normally would for your occasional brief pop-ins to the podcast, you stood next to Travis’s chair so that only your middle was showing, your stance perpendicular to the camera so the now-round profile of your belly was clearly visible. Jason gasped as if he hadn’t already known the news for months. You rested a hand on the top of your stomach, making it unmistakable what you and Travis were announcing, and he reached his own hand out to palm your bump, which at this point he could still easily do thanks to his impossibly big hands.

He held your free hand in his, beaming up at you, then looked back to the camera. 

“We’re havin’ a baby, y’all!” he shouted, before letting out a “wooooo-eee!”

On the other end of the Zoom, Jason was clapping and whooping excitedly, matching his brother’s energy. 

Travis then patted his lap, inviting you to sit down to, one, get you off your feet and, two, make it so your face was also visible in frame. 

“This is the moment we’ve been waiting for, folks!” you heard Jason boom theatrically as you put on the AirPods Max that Travis had set aside for you ahead of the recording. “Wyatt and Elliotte have been asking every day since they found out what a ‘cousin’ was when they were gonna get one, asking why Uncle Travvy and Auntie don’t have babies like me and mommy, telling them they can take Bennett home with them if they wanted…”

Travis cackled, throwing his head back. “That is a true statement,” he said as he held your hips firmly. 

“1000%, can confirm,” you added, wrapping your own hands around your husband’s. He squeezed your fingers a few times, and you threw him an adoring smile over your shoulder as his brother continued. 

“And we all know Mama Kelce has been hoping for this for years now. So this is obviously something the whole extended Kelce family has been anticipating for a long time, and it’s finally here, and we couldn’t be happier for you guys,” Jason said, tone more serious now. 

“Aww, thank you, my brother,” Travis said fondly, pressing a reverent kiss to your shoulder. 

“Yeah, thank you, Jase, so much. We’re so excited to finally give the girls a cousin!” you said. 

“Now, tell us how this happened,” Jason began. 

Travis cleared his throat. “Well, you see, Jason, when two people love each other very much-”

The older brother rolled his eyes and interrupted. 

“You know what I mean!” he insisted. “Just tell the people however much you wanna tell ‘em.” 

Travis looked to you as if silently asking for permission, and you simply gestured toward the camera. 

“Go ahead, Trav,” you said, a jesting tone to your voice. “I know it’s something you’re very proud of, so please share with the class.”

With that, Travis turned back toward the camera and waggled his eyebrows, getting as close to the mic as possible. 

“Well, folks… we made us a Super Bowl baby,” he said dramatically before letting out his signature cackle. You simply deadpanned to the camera, Jim Halpert-style, and shrugged.

Jason nodded emphatically. “You suuure did,” he said with a knowing laugh. “You knew I was having a kid right after the Super Bowl and you wanted to jump on the train.” 

You and Travis exchanged a devilish glance.

“Yeah, something like that,” you joked, knowing that jumping on Jason and Kylie’s train by conceiving a baby mere days before she gave birth to their third was certainly not your original plan. “I mean, what better Super Bowl souvenir could you ask for than a baby?!” you said wryly, causing Travis to look into the camera haughtily. 

“A Lombardi, a ring, and a kid,” he said, counting off on his fingers. “Alright nah,” he repeated, far too pleased with himself. 

“That’s awesome,” Jason said, still smiling. “Now, how are you feeling? I know it was a tough road there at first.” 

You nodded, and you felt Travis’s hold on your waist tighten protectively, maybe even subconsciously. “Yeah, I was pretty sick there for a few months, couldn’t get ‘out of the house’ a whole lot, much to this podcast’s dismay, but thankfully, that mostly passed when my first trimester ended,” you explained. “We don’t wanna necessarily share our exact due date, but I’ll say I’m well into my second trimester now and I’m feeling good. I’ve gotten to enjoy not only just the relief of feeling better but also the excitement of sharing this with friends and family – obviously, Mama and Papa Kelce, you and Kylie, all my family, and we just started telling the team, too, which has been really fun.” 

“Aww, that’s the best,” Jason remarked. “What was Big Red’s reaction?”

Travis piped up at the mention of his head coach. “Uh, to no one’s surprise, he looked me dead in the eye with the most serious fucking look on his face and said, ‘surprised it took ya this long, son,’” he revealed in his best Andy Reid voice, making you shake your head in amusement. 

“Yep, nope, does not surprise me one bit,” Jason said, giggling. “And what about your boy Mahomes?”

“Aw, man, Pat was so pumped up, and Brittany, too,” Travis replied. “Pat just started runnin’ laps around his kitchen yellin’ ‘let’s go! let’s fucking go!’ He ‘bout knocked me over!” 

“Yeah, those two have tagged us with babysitting duty on the regular for a couple years now, ever since Sterling was born, hoping that we would catch that baby fever and give her a playmate,” you added, laughing as you looked down at Travis. “I can’t say that’s necessarily what happened, but, um, either way, Sterling and Bronze will have another little team buddy to play with here soon which will be so fun to see. Brittany and Patrick have both been so great for both of us, just letting us know kind of what to expect, things that you might not learn in all the books or from your parents who did this a few decades ago. Especially with us all being on the same team, even just getting the lowdown on the logistical stuff, those two are just the best. They’re super excited for us which is just a really great feeling.” 

“No doubt – I’ve got a feeling this will bring you guys even closer,” Jason mused.

“Absolutely – already has,” Travis said. “So, yeah! That’s the big ‘New News’ for today, everybody. We’ve been keeping this on the DL for quite some time, and we just wanted to be able to share this ourselves in the way we choose, because obviously with camp starting tomorrow and the season just right around the corner, cameras might catch some footage of Mrs. Kelce visiting camp, in the stands, whatever, and we didn’t want people to be weird, so… y’all heard it here first!”

“Damn straight,” Jason asserted. “And just one more thing… I wanted to say, before our mom-to-be hops off here. I, uh… aw, fuck, I swore to Kylie I wasn’t gonna cry,” he said, sniffling as he fixed his eyes toward the ceiling, blinking repeatedly. 

“Aww, Jase!” you murmured as you watched him tear up. 

“I’m good, I’m good,” he assured, still sniffling as he continued. In the corner of the screen, you could see your husband beginning to well up, too, and you caressed his thigh soothingly as he sat in poignant silence. “I just wanted to say that when Travis told us the news, that was truly the happiest I have ever seen my brother – and this dude has been drafted to the NFL, he’s been a Pro Bowler, All-Pro, broken so many records, won two Super Bowls. But by far, the happiest and most excited I’ve ever seen this guy is telling us that you’re having a baby. And as his big brother, that just makes me so fuckin’ proud.” 

You and Travis were both pawing at fallen tears by now, and Travis could only manage a quiet “thank you.” You patted his knee and, after a deep breath, shared your own thoughts. 

“Thank you, Jase, and while we’re making each other cry–” both brothers chuckled at that, “–I’ll say that I know Travis is going to be the best dad, not only because of the incredible man and husband that already he is, and the way you both were raised by your own amazing parents, but also because of the example you have set for him, Jason, by being such an awesome dad to your three girls.” You paused and took a deep, shuddering breath, and Travis rubbed your back to calm you. Jason was nodding, tears streaking his face. “So thank you for that, and for all your love and support through everything, and Kylie’s, too. You guys are gonna be the greatest aunt and uncle this kid could ever ask for, and Travis and I can’t wait to watch that.” 

Travis let out a whistle, cheeks, nose, and eyes pink from crying. “Uh, I will never make it through this episode if I add anything more to that, so I will just say, here here, baby girl,” he offered with a laugh. “We love you, brother.” 

“I love you guys, too,” Jason said as he finally regained his composure. “Whew! Yeah, how the fuck are we supposed to keep recording after all that?! Can we just be done? I am emotionally exhausted. I need a nap.” 

As Travis giggled boyishly, you agreed, “I do, too, so I’m gonna leave you guys to it. Thanks for having me, guys; thanks for giving me a baby, Trav; and good luck at camp, Jase. We’ll talk soon.” 

Travis tapped the outside of your thigh pointedly, his frequent way of silently requesting a kiss. You grasped his chin to peck his lips as Jason thanked you and said a final goodbye. 

“Have a good nap, mama,” Travis cooed as you took off your headphones and returned them to their original spot. “Daddy’ll be up as soon as we’re done,” he added playfully.

You laughed and rolled your eyes, shoving his shoulder as you stood up and exited the frame. 

“Oh, Jesus, he’s already calling himself ‘Daddy,’” Jason complained with a weary sigh.

___

Normally, after wrapping an episode, Travis would bound up the stairs and infuse your home with all the leftover energy he had built up during the podcast recording with his brother. One of your favorite things about him co-hosting the podcast, in addition to loving the scheduled opportunity it created for him to connect with his brother, was how buoyant of a mood he was always in after a recording.

But today, the feeling that settled over your household when he wrapped the episode about an hour after your surprise guest appearance was much less chipper.

Today, Travis trudged upstairs to do the one thing he’d been dreading all summer – say his goodbyes to you before leaving for training camp. Though camp at Missouri Western State University was only about an hour from your home in the outskirts of Kansas City, he wouldn’t be home again for five days; instead, he’d be staying on campus with the team and bunking in a dorm. Normally, departing for camp and knowing he’d be spending days on end with his teammates focusing on making themselves better football players excited him, save for a hint of sadness about being away from you, but this particular camp, having to leave his five months pregnant wife at home, he was not looking forward to by any stretch of the imagination. 

When Travis pushed open the basement door, he found you lounging on the couch with your back to him, legs outstretched on the plush cushions as you cradled your bump, some version of the Housewives franchise playing on the TV in front of you. You tipped your head back onto the arm of the couch in order to see him and asked, “how’d it go?” 

He took advantage of your position to rest his thumbs on your cheekbones and give you an upside-down “Spider-Man kiss.” 

“Went great,” he answered curtly, a vastly different response than the pumped-up recap you normally received. “That was the easy part of today,” he added, gazing down at you with his brow furrowed. Even upside-down, he was struck by your captivating beauty, which only tightened the lump already forming in his throat. 

Did he really have to fucking do this?

You groaned, drowning in your own feelings of dread, and sat up, signaling the dogs at your feet to follow your lead. You reached out your hands in order to allow Travis to help you up from the couch and gave him your bravest face as he did so. 

“I’ll walk you out,” you said, feigning confidence. But the crack in your voice when you added “can’t have you showing up late” revealed the crack in your armor, and you watched Travis’s chin drop to his chest, his eyes fixed on his shoes as he forced himself to take one… step… at a time closer to the front door. 

One foot in front of the other, Travis.

You led the way, fluttering your eyelashes repeatedly in an attempt to keep the tears at bay. The dogs circled your feet as you attempted to walk out the front door, and Travis, fearing a fall, whistled and called them back into the house, patting both their heads as he passed.

When the two of you reached Travis’s Range Rover, already packed with all he needed for camp – duffels full of clothes and shoes, an array of video game consoles, deck of cards and set of pong balls for the inevitable team drinking games, and all his favorite snacks, along with a secret handwritten note you’d tucked into his toiletry kit in order to surprise him upon his unpacking – you stood a couple of feet apart, quiet, your husband shuffling his feet beneath him as you shifted your weight uncomfortably from side to side. You gazed up at him helplessly, a rigid, lips-only smile fixed on your face, and he took this moment for yet another reveal, sifting through his shorts pockets to find what he’d grabbed on the way out the door.

“I know this sucks, sweetness, but… I do have a surprise for you…” He dangled a set of keys in front of you which you noticed were not his. 

“New car?” you teased halfheartedly, recognizing the worn key fob to your Porsche after a moment. 

“Mm, not quite, we got a baby on the way, ya know? Gotta save that coin,” Travis teased right back. “I think it’s better than a new car.” 

You raised your eyebrows, staring at him expectantly. He let it marinate in your brain for a few more moments, finally breaking when you threw your arms around his waist, pressing your baby bump to his torso, and whined his name. He beamed. 

“Alright, alright, you know that’s gonna work every time now,” he admitted, giggling. He caressed your jaw with his knuckles and you noticed the glimmer in his eyes. “Listen, I know you’re sad because I’m leavin’, but you gotta get on the road, too… because you gotta go pick up your mama from the airport.” 

You gasped, covering your mouth with both hands. 

“Really?” you whispered after a stunned pause. 

“Really,” he confirmed, nodding. 

You’d only seen your mom once since finding out you were having a baby, and Travis had noticed that your pregnancy had you feeling more homesick than usual. Especially with so many of the Chiefs better halves, who would best understand this phase of your life, having scattered for the offseason, and with Travis’s own mom and sister-in-law living halfway across the country, he felt awful that you didn’t have your mom nearby during this exciting, but unsettling, time. Knowing, too, that you always struggled being apart from him in those first few days of training camp, he had preemptively arranged for his mother-in-law to arrive in Kansas City just as he departed for St. Joseph, hoping that that would alleviate at least some of your loneliness at this delicate time when you were already feeling unusually vulnerable. 

Travis melted when you threw your arms around him again, this time desperately, not jokingly. He rubbed your back, beaming when he heard you whimper, “thank you.”

“Of course, sweetness,” he replied warmly, burying a kiss in your hair. “Anything to keep baby mama happy.”

You giggled, resting your chin on his sternum and tipping your head up to look at him. 

“Yeah, you’re pretty good at that,” you praised, fondness thick in your tone as you rested a hand against his neck. “When does she land?” 

Travis glanced at his watch. “Just over an hour,” he informed you. “So don’t rush. You got plenty of time.” A proud smile slowly stretched across his face as he added, “I got a lot of fun stuff planned for y’all this week.”

Your eyebrows lifted, your excitement building by the minute, and Travis watched your face light up with each word as he continued. 

“You guys are gonna do a spa day tomorrow, got you a suite at the Royals game the next night, then you’re gonna come see me at camp, obviously, because I wanna see Mama, too. And then you’re gonna go run around and do your registry for your baby shower, because she knows all the stuff we’re gonna need, and weeee… do not,” he admitted, laughing. 

The corners of your mouth pulled down as your face contorted, eyes welling with tears, and Travis could see that you were overwhelmed with emotion, humming a laugh as he guided the side of your head to rest against his chest. 

“And that’s why I waited to tell you – because I knew you’d cry every other hour ‘til she got here,” he told you, only half joking, as he hugged you tight.

A giggle bubbled forth from your lips. “You were right, like always,” you said, voice tight, so appreciative of how well this man knew and cared for you. “You’re so thoughtful, Trav, thank you so much.” 

“I mean it when I say literally an-y-thing for you,” he repeated, emphasizing each syllable. “I love you so much,” he said as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. And after a deep sigh, he regretfully mumbled, “And now I gotta go.” 

You pushed away from him slowly, your left hand lingering on his broad chest as he looked down at you with what had to be the saddest expression you’d ever seen him wear. He gathered your hand in his and pressed a lengthy kiss to your wedding rings, then the skin around them. 

“Go be great,” you whispered, smoothing your other hand over his stubbly cheek.

Travis’s eyes closed and he drew a deep breath, committing the feeling of your touch to his memory. With a final squeeze of your fingers, he forced himself to back away and open his driver’s side door. 

As he climbed into the seat, he pointed at you and said firmly, “You and that baby stay safe while I’m gone, alright?” 

You nodded weakly, trailing a hand from the top of your bump to the underside. “We’ll do our best, Daddy,” you promised as he shut his door, the window rolled down. 

At that, Travis’s eyes filled with tears – he had known it was only a matter of time until it would hit him, leaving you for the first time for more than a day since you’d found out you were expecting. And seeing you, hand on your belly, standing in the driveway alone as he started his car and prepared to pull away for the better part of a week… yeah, that did it. 

He blew out a controlled breath through pursed lips, putting every ounce of his will into putting the car in drive and coasting toward the front gate to leave. 

He could see your lower lip quivering even from afar, and it sent a zing of anxiety through his entire being — though he’d never enjoyed saying goodbye, he’d never once felt anxious leaving you for camp. Until today.

“I love you, Mama,” he called out the window, inching slowly toward the gate. “I’ll see you in a few days.”

You nodded. “Okay,” came out in a croak. “I love you, too.” 

“Be good,” he forced out. 

You nodded again, but didn’t trust your voice to allow you to respond with words. You simply waved one last goodbye as he did the same, forcing a signature Travis Kelce smile and wink while simultaneously trying to keep his shit together in front of you.

But as he passed through the gate and down the drive, watching you shrink into the rearview mirror and finally disappear as he turned toward the freeway, his breath caught in his throat and he broke down, tears blurring his vision as he pressed ahead down the familiar route. For a minute or two, he simply let the sobs wrack his body as he swiped at the ever-flowing tears with the back of his hand, letting out the occasional frustrated growl, usually saved for a missed ball in the end zone. As he attempted to calm himself down, he glanced at the recent calls list on his car’s hands-free device.

And, moments later, in suburban Philadelphia… 

Jason hadn’t been off Zoom for more than twenty minutes when his phone rang with a call from his kid brother. Smirking knowingly at the screen, he situated five-month-old baby Bennett in her bouncy seat and tapped the green button.

“Figured I might be hearing from ya,” Jason answered the call.

Sniffling and confused, Travis blinked a few times. 

“You did?”

Jason let out a chuckle. “Yeah, you just said goodbye to her and now you’re, what, three miles down the road to camp?” 

Travis was quiet and rubbed a heavy hand over his face. 

“Five, but… yeah,” Travis mumbled.

Jason hummed as if impressed, gazing at his oldest two daughters who he swore just yesterday could barely hold their own heads up and were now talking animatedly amongst themselves as they dressed and posed Barbie dolls in their prized pink Dreamhouse. “Well, then, you made it two miles further than I did before I called Mom my first training camp when Kylie was pregnant with Wy, so, props.”

“Really?” Travis inquired.

“Hell yeah, dude. It’s the worst fuckin’ feeling,” Jason responded, the sensation still visceral. “Leaving your wife and unborn baby to go live in a dorm with a bunch of sweaty dudes… it goes against every instinct in your body.” 

“Yeah, for real… And I used to love camp, too,” Travis sighed. “I just feel so guilty, man.” 

“I know. But you’re doing it to provide a sick ass life for her and that baby — you’re making sure they’re set for life,” Jason reminded him. “You just gotta focus on that as best you can.” 

The smallest of smiles pulled at Travis’s lips. “That what Mom said to you?”

“Of course — you think I came up with that on my own?” 

Travis giggled at that — the way only a big brother could make you do, even in the midst of misery. 

“It’s gonna be okay, Trav. I promise you,” Jason told him firmly. “You did the right thing flying her mom in; she knows who to call in the off-chance something does go wrong; and… uh… and she knows she’s got our support because she’s calling Kylie right now,” Jason finished, handing his wife’s phone to her as she approached the coffee table where she’d heard it ringing. 

“Is she really?” Travis asked, both relieved and more upset knowing that you, too, were seeking comfort from his brother’s experience with Kylie. 

Jason and Kylie shared a sympathetic glance before she answered your call, and as he walked down the hall out of her earshot to allow you both privacy, Jason replied, “Sure is. And as you know, she couldn’t have picked a more perfect person to lean on right now. This isn’t easy by any means, but we’re here for you guys. So are Mom and Dad, Brittany and Pat, so many others. Remember, this is day one — it does get easier from here.”

Travis trilled his lips as he exhaled, his body already relaxing thanks to his brother’s encouraging words. 

“As much as I hate to admit it, that’s a great point,” Travis conceded. “Thank you, bro. I appreciate you more than you know.”

“Anytime, Trav. Always in your corner. Love you, brother. I’ll check in when I’m back at camp too.”

“I’ll hold you to it. Love you, Jase. Bye.”

#kissing kelce #travis kelce #jason kelce #travis kelce fic #travis kelce fanfic #travis kelce fanfiction

[maeby-cursed]

SOMETIMES I'M NOT MYSELF, I LOOK FOR A BETTER DISGUISE…

𓂃 DANCING TILL THE POWER GOES OUT.

a/n: following with my songfic series, this one is inspired by valiente by vetusta morla (the original lyrics are "a veces no soy yo, busco un disfraz mejor / bailando hasta el apagón") ! this is also an angst fic but the vibe in this one is a bit more pungent. i apologize for making toji like this, i will get back to my soft!toji program soon ♡ (this one is vv weird, btw, and i wrote it while suffering from a headache, enjoy)

✧ synopsis: you met toji seven months ago and since then, the only thing you've both agreed on is how much you cannot stand each other. now it's time to go; even if it means giving up trying, and leaving a familiar warmth behind.

✧ pairings: toji fushiguro x fem!reader

✧ wc: 1.6k

✧ rating: angst ! pure angst, discounted and at a good price ! angst and pain; two for the price of one ! of the richest quality and endless suffering !!

✧ cw: toxic relationship, toji suffers from toxic masculinity, a bit of an age gap (toji is early 30s, reader is implied to be early 20s), mentions of toji's shitty ass economy, heavy cursing.

There’s a storm inside your house and it is made of cries locked within the walls of your lover’s apartment.

You and Toji have been arguing for six months out of the seven you’ve known him.

Apparently, May flowers brought November showers (or better said, downpours), as well as a thick darkness, because since last week, Toji's entire street has been without light, water or electricity. 

A desert in the middle of a flood, seems almost biblical.

Both of you are in the kitchen – distressingly narrow and painted in a gloom shade of indigo –, in the midst of your fifth discussion this week. The fridge door is open while you talk, but neither of you cares, all of its contents are already wasted, anyways. The light doesn’t even flicker.

You don't know exactly how this particular fight started.

Toji had arrived at his apartment – his, exclusively – late, with a bag of fast food in hand. An individual order. When he’d arrived, he’d looked at you and asked you what you were doing there, and everything had gotten out of hand from that point on.

After six months of waiting for him in the same place, in the same position, in the same corner of his grimy sofa, you'd thought he might remember you, might remember that you are a constant in his life.

Not the case.

The fight escalates to such an extent that you find yourself shouting and gesticulating aggressively.

What starts badly ends worse, your grandmother used to say.

(And yet, it ends).

So now you stand barefoot, in your white slip, looking at him with all the fire you can fan into your eyes. 

"I have no fucking idea what is it that you want, Toji Fushiguro, but you need to stop looking for it in me. Either take me as I am or leave me, it's as simple as that."

He looks back at you, his gaze shallow. He always stares at you like this, as if instead of seeing you, he were trying to evaluate you; like you’re nothing but a mere statue to him and he’s looking for a spot where the artist could’ve slipped his chisel. 

But you don’t cower before him. Although his height seemed imposing when you first met him, he now seems ridiculous to you. A child hidden behind a brick wall.

"Could you stop talking in code for two fucking minutes?"

"I want you to stop treating me like shit. You caught on now?"

He laughs unfunnily.

"I think I treat you pretty well, girl."

"Really?" you smile. There's a part of you that cringes at the gesture; he's been souring you since you met. Now you're fed up, but you know you'll never be able to return all of the blows he’s knocked you out with. "You think coming home and taking me to your bedroom for five minutes of grunts and sweat is treating me well?"

"Our bedroom."

That does make you laugh.

"Fuck, Toji, I don't live here! You never asked me to move in with you. And I've waited for you but I'm..... I don't even know what I am. Disappointed, maybe?" Your mood begins to shift as you search for him with your stare. You want to see some sort of reaction, something that isn’t a performance, something that doesn’t act as a mirror. 

Something that tells you he cares about you.

"I thought I was dating an adult,” you continue, softly now. “That we could talk about it but... God, you're exactly like all the men I've been trying to avoid. All savages, the lot of you; too barbaric to be able to say you feel anything, even if it’s pure lust."

He raises a brow, closing the refrigerator door with a slam and leaning against the countertop with a click of his tongue.

"You want me to tell you that you make me horny?" he asks, with an ironic smirk.

"I want you to tell me that there's something that goes with the sex. Something that can last."

He doesn't say anything, just exhales loudly, huffing with annoyance.

And for some reason, the gesture takes you back two decades ago, when your father used to do that to you. A puff of air like cigarette smoke whenever you wanted something he didn't feel like giving you; mostly his time.

You don't know where the memory comes from, but it hurts. It burns and coats your throat with bile.

"There’s nothing," he whispers, at last. 

Now you really have to make an effort not to vomit.

Silly girl, you say to yourself, you already knew that. But it's no use.

"And I had to dig that out of you with a spoon, baby," you tell him, dripping with sarcasm.

He doesn't notice how you pale, how you grab the skirt of your dress and bite the inside of your cheek. He doesn't smell your despair, nor the copper drops emanating from the wound you've caused yourself by biting on your skin.

Toji's not a bloodhound, no matter how much he resembles one. He's just an asshole.

Your words make him frown and stick out his jaw. You recognize his hint – you’d recognize him by taste alone –, it's the gesture he makes before he fights.

"And what the fuck did you expect? For me to telepathically figure out whatever shit you’re thinking?"

"No, Toji. I just wanted an answer." That’s it, you suppose.

You sigh, unclenching your fists without relaxing your shoulders, and head for the bedroom. Except for your cell phone and a pair of nightgowns, you have almost nothing here. Let him keep the panties, if he gave them back to you, you'd burn them anyway. 

He follows when you pass him by on your way out of the kitchen, and, for once, he looks incredulous.

"What? You think we’re done chatting?"

"I don't even feel like looking at that asshole face of yours anymore."

Every word that comes out of your mouth stabs him in the spleen. He's never seen you like this.

You have nothing left to care for, nothing left to protect from the storm, nothing to hope and pray to see bloom. Your land is infertile and all you feel is frustration, so there's no more measuring yourself.

To hell with all this.

"Yesterday it was all about cuddling and today you're leaving,” he says. “What did you expect?" At that, he smiles with malice, one that, unfortunately, is not unfamiliar to you. "That we were going to fall madly in love? That this was about more than sex? Oh, but you're just a little girl. I've been with a hundred of the likes of you."

He's lying. You know he's lying. 

This man has never loved a woman in his life – you pity his mother – but he's not a manwhore either. He wears things out until he’s outgrown them.

It's funny — he’s always looked too big on you.

Your head turns around, but you stay frozen where you are, kneeling in front of the bottom drawer of his nightstand. On your knees, you almost look like you're praying, but your eyes condemn a truth that hurts him. It burns and coats his throat with bile.

"I never expected you to fall in love with me, Toji. I'm not that stupid," you look at the drawer again, taking clothes and shoving them carelessly into your bag. "I'm just young."

“I may be young, but give me time.” Those words, the ones you told him when he met you, a little over half a year ago, ring in his ears. “I can take a hundred men like you.”'

He remembers them now, gall climbing up to his uvula. Your smile back then clashes with your current tears. You have aged seven years in seven months.

He can see it in your posture, in the expensive fabric of your dress and the way you tie your hair back. He can see it in the depth of your cupid's bow, in the care with which you hold your hands.

You know how to handle dynamite now, but you can't stop gunpowder from blowing up.

Toji is speechless. He doesn't want you to leave, but he's already worn you out, you've already woken up from your reverie. He hasn’t outgrown you yet.

When you get up, your cheeks are covered with tears. You wipe them away carefully; you would’ve never done that back when he met you.

You were free then; of wild smiles and clumsy hands, of loud cries and smell of freesias. Young with bravado, a shell of the sea.

Seeing you like this, knowing you're going away, turns his stomach. This is the last time, and you don't smell like freesia anymore. You're all orange and lavender, unmistakable and silent.

Toji raises a hand and brings it up to you. For a split second of madness you think he's going to slap you, but he simply catches a strand of your hair; only instead of tucking it behind your ear, he lets it curl around your cheek.

His hand falls to his side – he wasn't raised to be like this. He wasn’t raised to get you to stay.

"Get out," he murmurs, the timbre of his voice low and plangent.

You close your eyes for a moment, just to find his image behind your eyelids; smiling and defiant, with a glass of champagne in his hand and kohl-stained eyes.

The tide inside washes away everything else.

"You don't have to tell me twice."

What starts badly ends worse, you think. 

(And yet, it ends).

© 2023, MAEBY-CURSED — do not copy/repost/edit.

(reblogs are appreciated !!)

#🎐 𓂃 mae’s typing ! #jjk imagines #jjk angst #jjk x you #jjk x reader #toji angst #toji x you #toji x reader #toji fushiguro angst #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x reader

[gojo-enthusiast]

Your Birthday (R)

Series: My Husband Toji Zenin

November was a great month in your husbands eyes, 1. The weather cooled down, which meant he would go and watch the boat racing comfortably. 2. The food. And 3. Your birthday. Despite your husband being a rough calloused man, your birthday was very important to him. Showering you with gifts, fancy dinners, sex, the kind of sex YOU like. Your birthday he wouldn’t even think about getting pleasure, just pleasuring you. But you always would insist on him cumming with you, saying that it made you happy.

You woke up later than usual, your eyes heavy, and your body groggy. “Good morning Doll.” Toji said sweetly, handing you your favorite latte from your favorite Cafe down the street. “Oh baby.” You smile. “Food is on its way, Chicken and Waffles.” He smiles, “My faaaavorite.” You emphasize the favorite, stretching your arms out for a hug. Toji engulfed you, swelling your body into his embrace. “Get up, go shower, and by the time you get out, your food should be here.” He kisses your forehead. “Yay okay!” You jump up, already hearing the shower running for you.

You get out the shower, wrapping yourself in a robe. “Toji?” You say out loud, not seeing him in the bedroom. “Satoru, I understand this is a very important account, I have showed them floor 87, at least 4 times now. They either need to sign or move along—“ Toji is saying to Satoru over the phone. “Satoru, it’s my wife’s birthday.” He says back. “I don’t care if it’s going to take an hour, that’s an hour taken from my wife.” Toji spits back, you could see his left fist clenching on the granite. “Why is this not something you can handle?” Toji hisses, “I don’t give a fuck if they want me. Take the damn contract, I don’t want it if it’s going to take away from my time with my fucking wife!” He shouts. “Fuck— I’ll be there in 45 minuets. You owe me.” Toji spits out, hanging up on Satoru. You laced your arms around his waist, making him flinch from surprise. “You have to go to work?” You kiss the middle of his back. Toji turns around, picking you up, you wrap your legs around his waist. He plants his lips onto yours, deepening the kiss. “Toji—“ You moan out. “Fuck, don’t sound like that. You’ll make it harder for me to leave.” He throws his head back, furrowing his eyebrows. “Sorry.” You kiss his jawline. “Satoru is gonna get it.” Toji groans. “I gotta go.” He huffs, walking into the shared bedroom. You start to eat your breakfast, drenching it in syrup. “I hope he’s quick.” You think to yourself. A few minutes later, you see your husband in a dress shirt, slacks and his dress shoes. You see him clamping his watch on, and he has a button unbuttoned that gave more of a chilled yet professional look.

“No.” You say. “What?” He questions. You saw the way his biceps bulged, and the way his ass was firm and perky in his slacks. “You look so sexy oh mah gad.” You say, with syrup falling from your lip. You’re practically drooling at this point. “Ill be back princess.” He says wiping the syrup from your lip, and licking his thumb. “Oh no, please don’t leave.” You groan. He was just so god damn sexy. “Oh no wait hold on!” You shout out, chasing him to the door. “Please of god please let me take a picture.” You groan. “Princess, I have to go.” He says. “Just one second please.” You smile, grabbing your phone, and snapping a photo of him chuckling. “Oh my god, Toji. I will have this engraved in my mind for eternity. I love you so much.” You dramatically say. “I love you doll, I’ll be back soon. I left my card on the dresser, go have fun.” He smiles, leaning down, kissing your lips.

You spent part of the day going to little shops in town, Toji wanted you to spoil yourself, but nothing really was appealing to you. Until you found a matching pajama set, buying that and some coffee, you looked down at your Apple Watch, seeing that it had been three hours since Toji left. “I miss him” You frown. You feel your phone buzz, you pull it out, seeing your friends Chrissy is calling, so you answer. “Hey!” You smile, “Hey bitch— happy birthday! Whatcha doing?” She asks, “Oh I’m at the town square next to my house. Toji is working unfortunately.” You say. “What! No! I’ll meet you there, I’m like 5 minuets away!” You friend says.

And thats how you spent your day, you and your friend went to store after store, window shopping, eating pastries, and heading back to your house to watch movies. “When will your man be home?” Chrissy says, “honestly I thought he was supposed to come home earlier, so I don’t know.” You frown. You love your friends, but you had much rather spent the day with Toji. A couple hours go bye, you hadn’t realized you fell asleep on the couch, you look beside you and Chrissy is not around. You grab your phone checking the time—

Chrissy: hey babes, you fell asleep so I let myself out. Have a good birthday! Love ya!

You set your phone down, seeing it was 11PM. You hear the lock on the door click, which means your husband is home. You perk up, seeing your distressed husband, with his sleeves pulled up to his elbows, and his hair looked like he had been running his hands through it, which he usually does when he’s stressed.

“Hey my love.” You say softly, embracing him as he takes his shoes off. “I missed you.” You whisper, smelling cigarettes all over his clothes. “Doll, I smell of cigarettes and sweat.” He groans, peeling you off of him. “Let me go shower.” He says in a hush tone. You had followed him to the bathroom, and watched as he unloosened his belt, and peeled off his dress shirt. Standing there in his boxers, you saw his manhood that was clearly throbbing all day. He pulled them down, letting his cock spring right out, you saw the way he was leaking, and how it twitched just standing there. “Baby, I love you.” He eyed you. “I-I love you too.” You said, feeling the lump in your throat. “I want to make you feel good, I really do. I want to give you the birthday you deserve, especially sex. But I really need to have my release.” He groaned as he stroked his cock. You instantly undressed yourself, slipping in the shower before him. Signaling for him to come on in, and join you. “Fuck—“ he groaned, he stepped in, and instantly held yourself against the bar in the shower and bent over. “All for you.” You side eye. “Fuck, baby are you sure?” He says, placing his tip on your core. You nod in agreement. He slowly begins to push himself inside of you, and in an instant, he fully thrust in, not even letting you adjust. He began to thrust brutally, chasing his own release. You moaned and cried at the stretch. It felt so painfully amazing, you arched your back, and let him hold your waist as he fucked you raw.

“Yes— yes Toji.” You moan, you knew you would wake up the next day and wouldn’t be able to walk, but in the moment it was all you wanted to feel. He begin to thrust at a certain speed that kissed your G-spot so perfectly. Making you moan out. One thing about Toji, is he is a brutal man, he loved to watch you cry as he fucked you, he was feral when he did so. He heard a silent sob come out of your mouth, he spun you around and picked you up. “You cryin?” He groaned. “N-no” you said as the water sprayed your face. Toji’s manhood still throbbing, he hadn’t released yet. “FUCK!” he shouts. “Dry the fuck off now.” He spits out, both of you stepping out of the shower. You hurriedly rush drying off, he picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder, slapping your ass ungodly hard. “Ah! Toji!” you yelp. “Shut the fuck up.” He hissed. You could tell he was fuming, not at you. His job, Satoru, the fact he couldn’t spend your birthday with you. And the only way this man could let it go, was either drinking, or fucking you, or both.

Toji lied you on the bed, then walking out the room. He came back with a bottle of wine, already opened. Taking a swig. “You want some?” He huffed, you nodded. “Words!” He shouted. “Yes sir.” You say, knowing that is tipping over the edge. He pours some in his mouth, then grabs you by your neck and head and you open your mouth, letting the wine trickle in your mouth into your throat. He was trying to ease you, you knew what he was about to put you through wasn’t going to be the loving man you’re so used to, it was in this moment you understood why he was fucking other women after he got off work on a stressful day. The last thing he wanted to do, was put his sweet wife through a brutal fucking.

“I’m going to fuck you. And you will have to handle it.” He kissed your forehead sweetly. “Yes daddy.” You nod, a little wine dripping down your breast. “Fuck.” He groans. “Open your fuckin mouth.” He hissed, you did exactly as he said, he tapped the tip of his cock against your bottom lip. Then he shoved his cock deep into your mouth and throat. You knew how to take your husband’s cock into your throat, but it was a surprise, and you weren’t ready. But getting fucked by Toji, you don’t get that chance. He begin to fuck your mouth, forcing your head against his base. “Mm” you groan against his cock, you felt yourself struggling to breathe, he pulled you by your hair to look up at him. He had the phone camera in his hand, as he used your hair to control your movements. “Such a dirty little slut.” He groans. “Fuck just like that.” He groaned as he felt you swirl your tongue around. He finally pulled out of you, and you finally catching your breath.

He pushed you done, instantly putting your legs over his shoulder, fucking you raw. “T-To-!” You moan out loudly. “Hush.” He said stuffing a finger into your mouth. “Your pussy is talking to me.” He said, thrusting faster. You moaned out, sucking on his finger, he pulled out, flipping you around, instantly fucking you from behind. He leaned down, sucking on different spots of your back to mark you all up. He then turned you side ways, fucking you even deeper and harder. “Toji please slow down.” You moan, feeling your body is about to break. He then put you back on your back, fucking you fast and choking you lightly. “Fuck!” He would hiss, slapping your face, not hard enough to hurt, but also not light enough to not feel it. He leaned down, his face over your face. “Pussy feels so good.” He groaned. Planting kissing on your neck, and then marking you all over. You knew when you woke up, you would find hickies all over your neck and chest, which meant you were not to leave the house unless you want to be stared at. You hadn’t realized how much of a possessive man Toji is.

He slammed into you as one hand started to playing with your clit, and the other one was holding himself up. “I’m gonna cum. Take it.” He groaned, “toji it’s too much.” You cried, tears pulling down. “No— take it slut. I’m gonna fuck you until you give me a child. Fuck—“ he groaned, “Toji, baby please.” You cried, your body spasming. You just needed him to slow down a little. But Toji was feral, your tears were only fueling his desire. “Fuck yes—“ he groaned loudly, rubbing your clit faster, slapping your pussy. You begin to spasm, feeling your legs give out. And that’s when it finally happened. He came deep inside, while you squirt and creamed all over his cock. He continued the rub, while you clawed and cried for him to let go. You lost all your strength to even speak, just sobbing in pure ecstasy. You had been satisfied sexually from your husband, but never in this way. Toji was sending you the straight overstimulation, erupting a second orgasm, making you squirt again and again. “Fuck yes you dirty fucking whore.” He moaned out, fucking his seed deep into you. “Take that, take all of it.” He hissed, pulling you into his lips, kissing your fucked out face. Your body went limp, you no longer could move, but you feel everything. “Fuck!” He hissed, fucking you again, wanting another release. He did that for 10 minutes, while your body spawned and you sobbed. He kept fucking you until he came 3 times, and you passed out. Finally peeling himself off of you, and seeing he had completely fucked out his wife.

“Shit!” He groaned, seeing the way his seed spilled out of your cunt so deliciously, he scooped it up, pushing it back inside of you. “You’re gonna make me a father.” He whispered into your ear. “You keep my babies inside of that tight pussy.” He said, kissing your temple. You felt as if you weren’t even a person anymore.

You woke up, and you were lying in the bath with your husband behind you, he was washing your hair. You dozed right back to sleep, you couldn’t even comprehend anything that was happening. You woke up again to the sun slowly peeking through the window, you were engulfed in your husband’s embrace, you both were naked and clean.

“You okay doll?” Toji muttered. Your body ached, and you felt bruised everywhere. “I feel as if I was hit by a car.” You groaned. Feeling the way your cunt was throbbing and sore. “I’m so sorry doll.” He kissed your forehead. “I have never wanted to do that to you.” He groaned. Hiding his face in your hair. “Is that what you did to the other women?” You asks innocently. “Doll.” He said quietly. “It’s okay, you can tell me.” You said kissing his jawline. “Yeah.” He huffed. “Well I’m grateful I’m the only one who gets to see sweet Toji. Because I don’t think I could handle mean Toji everyday.” You giggle. “I’m sorry baby.” He embraced you. “It’s okay. It felt amazing, it was just a lot for me to take.” You giggled again. “I promise I’ll make it up to you— once you… heal.” He groaned, feeling his cock start to ache again. “Toji!” You slapped his chest. “It’s alright, I’ll do it myself.” He chuckled, pulling his cock out, fisting himself. While you drifted off to sleep to the sweet sounds of your husband groaning your name.

#anime fanfic #toji fushiguro #dilf toji #fanfiction #toji fushigro x reader #toji x reader #toji x y/n #toji x you #toji fushiguro smut #toji smut

[loveronlineee]

Being a Freak 101 Part 1 (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Masterlist   All Parts

Eddie Munson x Cheerleader! Reader (She/Her)

Warnings: None

Synopsis: Y/N asks Eddie to team up with him for a prank. She’s unsure if he’ll do it. Little does she know, Eddie’s already crushing on her

Y/N notes: none

Heyoooo! This is a lil intro part to a series idea I have. Let me know if you want me to continue it!

Wanna be on the Eddie Munson tag list? Look here!

Wanna request something? Look here!

“Yo Munson!” Y/N shouted as she approached the Hellfire table.

“Miss L/N! To what do I owe the pleasure?” Eddie smirked. He watched the popular cheerleader sit down with the nerds, cocking his head to the side.

“Okay here’s the deal. Some of the other cheerleaders dared me to trick you into dressing like a jock, but I’ve got a better prank to pull on them. You in?” Eddie’s smile widened at the idea.

He had barely ever talked to Y/N but there was always an unspoken respect between the two despite their opposing social groups.

He would catch her hiding her laughter whenever he made an attention grabbing outburst. She would spot him only clapping at her parts in the cheer sequence the rare times he was around for them. Whenever they walked passed each other in the hallway, there was a secret nod to silently say hello.

And now here she was, finally speaking one on one with him. It was the first time he had had the chance to see her up close. She was pretty, this he already knew, but there was an air of mischief about her that the other cheerleaders could only dream of having. That sparkle in her eyes that made Eddie trust her instantly.

“And how do I know this isn’t actually a prank on me?” Eddie asked. He was already putty in her hands but he’d stretch this conversation out for as long as he could.

“Hear me out and see if you can find a loophole.” She quickly replied. Eddie grinned.

“Okay. Shoot.”

“You turn me into a metal head.”

“You? Preppy, upper middle class, cheerleader Y/N L/N. A metal head?”

“You’re the only one who could do it Munson. Come on. Imagine the look on their faces.” She grinned. Eddie had never seen a girl with such mischief. It was practically emanating off of her in waves, seeping into his brain and occupying his thoughts with images of her playful smile.

“Alright L/N. I’m in.” Eddie calmly replied. He could see the excitement the cheerleader was holding back.

“Okay great. I’m gonna walk back to my table now and tell them I was just saying hi to begin my plan. Pretend to be enamoured with me as I leave~.” Y/N joked. But Eddie didn’t need to pull out his acting skills for this one.

He was already falling for her.

Tag list: @Mikinyi @justaproudslytherpuff @angelicjinwoo @k12baby @spiderman-berries​ @ruhro7​ @justanotherhappyidiot @dontcallmesavvy @kenzi-woycehoski​ @gh0stm3g​ @lagataprrr @spencersbookbag @ygrworld @ambernicole90 @alwaysbeenfamous @angelsarecallin @voteforevilthoughts @iameddiemunsonshair @hellf1reclub @phobles-world @isshecleverorisshecrazy @olrjmarvete @b-bella9 @ultraoliviajeromethings-blog  @beatlebeesstuff @korescomaactually @bilesxbilinskixlahey​ @darkened-writer​ @nightless​ @gnkkstarz @cullenswife @killergoddessmm @preciousbabypeter @uselessbutinteresting @frogtits1 @lotus-es @padfootpottah99 @siriuslysmoking @enoumen-t @marrigold-2002 @nightless @the-mysterious-miss-s @olrjmarvete @evie-119 @rand0m—fangirl @felicityofbakerstreet @lotus-es @v0idl1nq @stv-1-ncent @eiviea @iheartcb @grumpyy-bearr @purple-flamingo @eddiessoulmate @violetrainbow412-blog @mcueveryday @ravenhood2792 

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #reader x Eddie Munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #st eddie munson #stranger things season 4 #stranger things season four #stranger things x reader #reader x stranger things #stranger things #stranger things imagine

[lemonlyman-dotcom]

getting past the wounds of love “What are you smiling about?” Paul asks with a raised eyebrow in the rear view mirror. “Got a text from Officer Hotstuff?”

“Shut up,” TK says with a roll of his eyes as Paul and Marjan snicker in the front seat.

“Come on, Paul, it’s not even like that.”

“Oh yeah?” Paul teases as he puts the car in gear. “It looked pretty ‘like that’ the other night. You shoulda seen them, Marj. TK was grinding on that sweet, straitlaced boy so hard I thought we’d have to use the jaws of life to separate them. Officer Dreamboat was looking at TK with those giant heart eyes. He’s already in love.”

“Oh my god,” TK whines. “He is not. We’re not even dating. We’re just …hanging out”

“Sure, whatever you say dude. I mean, I’ve never dry humped someone I’m ‘hanging out’ with in the middle of a club, but good for you I guess.”

love in a series of bursts & inches Carlos has always seen him, flaws and all, as a whole person. He remembers his life back in New York, when he was fresh out of rehab and trying to figure out the kind of person he wanted to be now that he was sober. He was clean but he felt haggard and beaten down, his mind was warped, full of voices telling him he’d burned all his bridges, that he’d ruined any chance of a fulfilling life, of ever finding people who wanted to share in his life. He was unlovable, unreliable and most certainly undatable.

He thought he’d left any chance he had at a future back in that drug den, on a dirty slab of cardboard littered with discarded rubber ties and dirty needles. […]

But when he met Carlos on the side of a highway under glistening streetlights with a steady stream of sideways rain pelting their faces, he didn’t see TK as broken. Carlos didn’t look at him, clad in his hoodies, walls built up a mile high, bristling at the mere thought of someone getting close enough to hurt him, and see him as damaged goods. He saw him for the whole person he was, and everything he could be.

Why Do You Think I Ran Carlos has cataloged all of TK’s laughs; his delighted giggle, the small under-his-breath snort when he’s laughing at his own joke, the soft little gasping chuckle that only comes out during sex. The laugh TK lets out right now is Carlos’s favorite, the one where he scrunches his eyes and shows his teeth. The one he reserves just for Carlos.

Call Me If You Get Lost “TK? Carlos?” she says behind gritted teeth, “What the hell?”

“Hey Nance,” Carlos says as TK pushes past her into the room. A frantic movement to his left captures his attention, and he turns to see Mateo flailing around on the floor, pulling his boxers out from under the nightstand.

“What is this?” TK cries at the same time Nancy swings around and shrieks.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?”

“Whoa…” Carlos reacts as he enters the room.

“What is he doing here?” TK asks with a finger pointing in Mateo’s direction, he feels like he’s going into shock himself.

“It’s not what it looks like!” Nancy’s still shouting. She rounds the bed and grabs a sweater from a chair, hastily pulling it over her head.

“It looks an awful lot like you’re having a clandestine affair with Mateo,” Carlos helpfully chimes in. He points to the unmade bed, “Exhibit A!”

Carlos turns to TK with a small smug smile and whispers, “See, I told you I was good at this.”

“Damn, babe,” TK preens, “Hot and smart. You really should take the detective’s exam. You would totally crush it.”

Como Te Quiero Yo (how I love you) On the morning of the third day of their honeymoon, TK is now regretting the fact that their parents put them up in the honeymoon suite. While it is nice […] all the walls are clear glass. Sexy last night when TK tempted Carlos into the shower. Not so much right now, when Carlos has a clear straight view of him where he’s sitting, hunched over in pain on the toilet.

“TK?” He calls from the bedroom, face scrunched in concern. His voice comes muffled through the glass walls, “Babe, are you okay?”

“Don’t look at me!”

“Okay, I mean… It’s kind of hard not to.”

“Carlos, I swear to god.” TK shouts, his own voice echoing off the tiles. He tells himself it’s to be heard, but his volume is just as much fueled by embarrassed desperation.

“Okay,” Carlos says. And if TK didn’t know any better, he might detect a hint of amusement in his voice. But he knows his husband isn’t a stupid man. He doesn’t have a death wish. So there is no laughter in this hotel room.

“Umm, what do you want me to do?” Carlos asks again, eyes steadily trained on the wall on the other side of the room.

—and—

“I’m sorry you’re sick, babe,” Carlos says, gently guiding him towards the bed. When TK whines in response he says, “and I’m sorry I laughed at you this morning.”

“Mean.”

“I’m always gonna laugh when you get the gurgle guts.”

“Wow, Carlos,” he whines, laying back on the bed and covering his face with a hand. “You should have included that in your vows. ‘I vow to be the caretaker of your wild heart... And to laugh at you when you’re dying from dysentery.’”

“What is this, the Oregon Trail?”

“Ahh! Carlos!”

All Your Colors Make Me Feel Alive “Carlos it’s,” TK stutters, “it’s okay now. I don’t feel that way now. But it’s always gonna be there. I might feel that way again.” He stops and bites his lip, runs a hand across his eyes. “I have a better support system now. I have Marj and Nance, I have you. I have resources. But that doesn’t mean it won’t ever get that bad again.”

Carlos nods, rubbing the back of TK’s head but not attempting to interrupt.

“I don’t expect you to wanna stick around, to want to deal with that.”

“Baby,” Carlos says quietly, fighting to keep his voice even, “what do you mean?”

“I know—” TK sniffs, running a sleeve-covered hand over his face, “I know I’m not easy.”

“I don’t need you to be easy, TK,” he puts a hand under TK’s chin to tilt his head up. Needs to be sure he hears this. “Hey, look at me.” When TK lifts his eyes slightly to make eye contact he continues. “I just need you to be alive. Okay, baby? Whatever you need.”

Thank you for the tags @filet-o-feelings @bonheur-cafe @sznofthesticks @freneticfloetry @vineofroses @ladytessa74 and pretending like @liminalmemories21 tagged me 🥰

Tagging @nancygillianmvp @chicgeekgirl89 @welcometololaland @carlos-in-glasses @thisbuildinghasfeelings @paperstorm @thebumblecee @reyesstrand @lightningboltreader @never-blooms @decafdino @your-catfish-friend @literateowl @tinyluminaryzombie @herefortarlos @doublel27 @strandnreyes @chaotictarlos and OPEN TAG 🏷️

#tarlos #911 lone star #tarlos fic #tk strand x carlos reyes #tag game

[abibliophobiaa]

Hi my sweetest Luna love 🌙. I saw you put a call out for dad!Eddie ideas/requests. I’ve got one I’d like to propose.

In episode 8, Eddie says, “when the other dads were teaching their kids how to fish or play ball, my old man was teaching me how to hot-wire.”

I feel like this would weigh heavily on Eddie when he becomes a dad, and he would want to be a good role model for his son. But, Eddie realizes he still doesn’t know about those hobbies so he enlists Wayne’s help. Cue the three generations of Munson men having cute bonding moments. :)

Gone Fishing: The Munson Men…

part two of my little mini series wherein you’re married to eddie, have a son named james, and now a daughter named quinn. features a whole lot of wayne as well. you don’t have to read part one to understand this one, but it’ll likely give some insight into background information. warnings: mentions of childbirth; newborn situations; worms being used as bait.

dad!eddie munson x afab!mom!reader. (4.2k words)

-

People say that the jump from one child to two isn’t that chaotic. That once you’re used to parenting, it becomes an extension of a normal routine.

Those people, Eddie decides, are also called liars.

He loves Quinn.

He loves his infant daughter more than words can even begin to express; hell, he cried in the hospital room like a baby himself when the doctor shouted, “It’s a girl!” and finally answered all the months of questioning who the little one growing inside your belly had been.

But, just as James had as a baby, Quinn quickly takes up both your time.

Nights of sleep become a thing of the past, and he’s quickly reminded of what the newborn stage, however wonderful, looks like. Routines shift and become endless midnight diaper changes to give you time to rest, turning over to tap your shoulder and wake you to swap shifts so you can feed her. As you lay her against your chest, he heads down to the kitchen and tries to clean up the messes from all the times she’s woken before that.

So it comes as no surprise the way James begins to grow a little frustrated with the whole ordeal. No longer the littlest Munson in the family, he’s taken up a habit of doing things out of line to garner Eddie’s and your attention.

The first week Quinn is earth side, he pitches a fit because she’s simply a girl (and he’d begged his mom and dad for a brother). He asks Eddie to “send her back to the stork.” Steve and Nancy reassure you both that it’s normal; however, they don’t warn or prepare you for the angry whining from your son when he asks to show either of you something in the middle of tending to his baby sister. Nor do they warn you that four year olds are inclined to have tantrums if either of you ask him to “wait just a minute” when he really doesn’t want to be patient at all.

So while Quinn cries, James cries, and then you cry (sleep is an elusive thing these days, so he never faults you for the changing tides of your wavering emotions)—and Eddie knows he needs to do something.

And soon.

“Are you sure you’ll be fine on your own?” he asks as he enters the room.

He drops down onto the bed where you’re presently sitting against a mountain of pillows with his three week old in arm. You offer him a tired smile as he leans down to kiss Quinn’s head of dark hair.

Another very Munson looking baby, if he does say so himself.

“We’ll be fine,” you promise, sighing when his forehead rests against yours, his nose running along yours affectionately. “She’ll probably sleep most of the time you’re gone anyway. Have fun. And say hi to Wayne for me. Tell him to come by soon.”

Eddie groans, sliding down onto his stomach to marvel at his newborn daughter. Ringed fingers reach out to touch her, thumb swiping down her chubby cheek. The baby stirs within her swaddle, bleary eyes sleepily searching about for her parents.

“I just hate leaving her. What if she grows up while I’m gone? Gets her first job and goes off to college? A first boyfriend that I’ll have to murder and you’ll have to be my alibi for?”

He pouts, earning a laugh out of you for his still-present dramatic flair that’s as much a part of his DNA as the love he holds in his heart for his growing family.

Eddie watches those dark eyes as they flutter open once more and take in her father’s face, lip curling upward at the way her lips part very slightly, her tiny grunts warming him from the inside out.

“Hey, Quinnie. Daddy loves you.”

“She’s going to be just fine, and she’ll still be just as cute and little as you left her. But yes, I will be your accomplice when the time comes,” you reassure him, stroking a hand down the back of his head. He leans into the comfort, sliding his hand over yours. “Go—have fun with James and Wayne. It’s his special day, after all.”

Which is true.

Being that most of your time is spent feeding a newborn around the clock and trying to work around her inconsistent sleeping schedule, you're struggling to spend all the time you want with James.

Eddie had held you in the kitchen a few nights ago after dinner, an arm curled around your shoulders to keep you close as you sniffled against his neck, worrying you weren’t a good mother. He knew it was the hormones talking, but it ripped his heart down the middle even hearing you question how wonderful you’d been to his son and him since you’d begun dating shortly after he’d graduated high school.

“You’re taking care of a newborn,” he’d said, quieting your tears with two palms against your cheeks, and the gentle brush of his lips across every possible inch of your face. “You’re a kickass mother. The best wife—hottest too. I mean, shit, baby—”

“Eds.”

You buried your face in his chest, snorting at his compliment.

“It’s true. Can’t believe I fooled you into dating me and now having kids with me.” Your balled up fist nudged against his abdomen, earning a laugh from deep within his chest. “Quinnie is so tiny now. It’ll get easier. But I have an idea; how about I take Jim Jam for a little outing? We’ll spend time with his Pop Pop and we’ll do…Munson men things.”

Which brings him back to his current situation: lifting Quinn out of your arms to press parting kiss after parting kiss to her curly head of dark hair until her little face scrunches around her binky.

Eddie hushes her back to sleep and you nearly have to pry her out of his greedy fingers to get him to hand her back over. He watches you grin widely, inhaling her new baby smell you’re both addicted to when she’s back against your chest and nuzzling her downy forehead lovingly.

Quinn Leigh Munson has stolen his heart and he doesn’t particularly care who knows it.

With his daughter back in the cradle of your arms, Eddie leans down to brush one last kiss against your lips and Quinn’s plush cheek before calling James into the bedroom.

In scampers the four-year-old a pair of shorts and a tee shirt, his too-big rain boots scrunching with every step.

“Ready to hit the road, Jim Jam?” Eddie asks, ruffling his son’s dark curls. “Say bye to Mom and Quinnie.”

With a little help from Eddie, James crawls across the bed and presses a kiss to your cheek. You giggle airily as he curls himself around your body, close as he possibly can be, just like Eddie tends to when it’s the two of you alone at night.

“Bye, Mommy.”

The words are a smush of his face against your collarbone and forehead into your neck, one hand resting on your opposite shoulder. All wriggling movements and flailing arms that jostle the baby.

Quinn stirs within your arms, little whimpering cries beckoning James to attention as you kiss him fleetingly on the top of his head.

He’s already leaning down close to her face, a pout firmly against his full lips. “Quinnie, why are you always crying? Ugh—”

“James,” Eddie warns, catching the furrowed brow on his son’s forehead. Your eyes flicker upward, amusement bubbling despite the four-year-old’s growing annoyance. “She’s a baby. You cried a lot when you were her age too.”

“Fine,” he says with a huff.

The boy presses a kiss to his sister’s wrinkly brow and clambers back off the bed. There’s a squelch of boots on the carpet before he’s thumping into Eddie’s left hip, an arm curling around his father’s thigh to hold tight.

James’ head tips back, eyes looking into his father’s. “Can we go see Pop Pop now?”

“Yeah, buddy, we can go see Pop Pop.” Eddie takes you in once more where you sit. Tired as you are, his heart clenches violently, both because you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever met and the love of his life. You lean over to snatch Quinn’s bottle from the bedside table to start another feeding. “We’ll see you later. Love you.”

“Love you boys. Take a ton of pictures. Jim Jam, make sure to catch me a big fish.”

“I’ll catch you the biggest fish!” He jumps up and down excitedly, head bumping against the one Eddie has left to rest against his son’s curls. “Love you, Mommy.”

-

Lover’s Lake remains untouched by the world that evening.

Most are likely at work for the evening, while students, now on summer break, mill about the arcade, that popular new roller rink in town, and the ice cream shops in the shopping square.

Eddie had taken the afternoon off—had been doing so pretty often when possible at the shop to help care for the new baby—to make sure he’d be able to give James his full attention.

The little boy in question practically launches himself out of the car when Eddie unbuckles him from his car seat, glowing at the prospect of fishing with his dad and Pop Pop, a wide smile sliding across pink lips.

At Eddie’s soft utterance of “One second, buddy,” he curls his arms loosely around Eddie’s neck so his father can draw him up against hip. The door slams shut behind him to reveal Wayne standing in the distance against his car, fishing supplies resting on the ground near his feet.

James’ hand curls into Eddie’s curly hair resting against his shoulder, eyes bright as he asks, “Can I go say hi to Pop Pop?”

Eddie nods and helps him to the ground. Grins widely as the boy takes off in a burst of energy, little legs kicking under him, arms flailing at his sides before Wayne reaches down to grab him and hike him upward into his solid chest.

James’ lyrical laughter trails up the hill as Eddie makes his way over, the lunch bag that you prepared for them bouncing against his side with every footfall—another reminder of all the ways his life has changed since you walked into it nearing six years ago now.

He remembers fond moments of sitting at this very lake with the back doors of his van spread wide, you on your back, with your skin still smelling of sunblock, looking up at him like he was the only person in the world. He remembers your fingers trailing along his skin and endless cherry chapstick kisses, whispers of love like gentle caresses long after the day turned into night, and promises of forever echoing behind both your rib cages.

Now you’re married with two children, he’s just as in love if not more so now, and the lake that had been your private sanctuary away from the rest of Hawkins is the place he’ll make new memories with your son.

The same little boy, hewn together by your love.

The same little boy with your eyes, his father’s curls, joy and love in his heart, and laughter that makes Eddie wonder how he ever got so lucky.

You chose him, you still choose him every day, and what a lovely thing it was to be so wholly loved and accepted.

-

It’s funny, Eddie thinks, that he’s never really thought about what normal things fathers and sons share together. His own hadn’t been the greatest of examples, reaching him to hotwire a car without ever teaching him how to swim or ride a bike.

And he supposes that’s been his trepidation all along about raising a son. Four years in and he still doubts himself—still questions that you’ve given him not one, but two babies to guide through life. But it’s in those moments he remembers his Uncle’s care.

The way the man now outfitting his son in a too-big fishing hat and vest shows the same kindness he instilled in him when he’d arrived on his doorstep and moved to Hawkins.

His silent reverie is broken up by James’ laughter. A high peal that breaks through the silence of Lover’s Lake. Eyes drawing upward, he catches the little boy in his bright yellow boots raising a wriggling worm to eye-level, beaming from ear to ear.

“Daddy! Look—a worm!” He’s so proud of himself, peering into the bucket beside Wayne’s tackle box, reaching down to grab another and extending it to his father. “I got one for you!”

Eddie chuckles, joining his grinning Uncle’s side as he settles their tools down on the dock. “Buddy, your mom is going to kill me. There’s dirt under your nails already.”

“I’ll wash real good, don’t worry,” he says brightly, padding over to Wayne. “Pop Pop, what do we do now?”

“Well, now we hook the worm and cast our lines.”

“The worms? But they’re my friends.” James pouts, like he can’t fathom using them as bait, and before his bottom lip can start to wobble, Eddie’s dropping down to kneel in front of him.

“So…you know how Goldy back home eats those little flakes?” he asks, speaking of the goldfish Eddie had won for his son at the Fourth of July fair.

James nods, eyes watering. He sniffles. “Yeah. His gill food.”

Eddie chuckles. “Yeah, his gill food. The fish in the lake need that food too. But they need bigger food.”

“So the worms?” he asks sadly. At Eddie’s slow nod he continues, “Can I keep one?”

“Maybe,” Eddie concedes, and that’s enough to have the little boy resuming his spot at Pop Pop’s side, peering over the edge of the dock.

-

“Pop Pop?” James’ voice raises over the silence. Over the sounds of water lapping against the dock, the sounds of cicadas in the distance, the gentle chatter of birdsong.

Eddie turns to watch as his son leans into Wayne’s shoulder, gentle smile blooming along that sweet little face. Wayne cranes his neck downward, palm curling around the boy’s shoulder. “What’s it, Jim Jam?”

“What do we do now?” he asks, hands holding aloft that too-big fishing rod for his four-year-old body.

Eddie glances down at his own hands, where his own rod is resting within, turning his wedding ring round and around his finger. When his Uncle speaks once more, his head raises in piqued interest. “Well…now we wait. There’s this sayin’.”

“What’s the saying?” James asks.

“Good things come to those that wait,” Wayne says softly, brushing a thumb along James’ cheek, grinning when the little boy giggles gleefully.

“Daddy?” Eddie’s head jerks upward at the title, fondness bubbling up when his son places his fishing rod down on the dock and walks over to his father’s side. Thumps down onto the wood below to lean into Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie welcomes him. Opens his arm enough for the little one to clamber into his lap, head over his father’s heart, palm curling into his ratty old Metallica tee. “What’s Pop Pop’s saying mean?”

“Well…” Eddie glances over his son’s head to look at his Uncle. Takes in his weathered features, the upturn of his lips, that comforting smile that has the tension roiling in his gut easing. “Remember when your Mommy said Quinnie was in her belly and you were so excited.”

“Yeah!” He giggles when Eddie’s fingers slide down to tickle his ribs, his father’s arms winding tighter around his smaller form.

“Remember how it took a long long long time before Quinn came?” Eddie asks, grinning softly when James dips his head. “And remember how it was so worth it, because now our family is even bigger? Well—fishing is like that. You have to wait until a fish is ready, but when it is…it’s worth it.”

“Oh…” His son dips his head once more. Those round eyes meet his father’s once more. “Daddy, can I have juice now?”

Conversation over, he supposes. About right for James’ attention span. Eddie laughs, heart warming at the fleeting nature of a four year old mind. Reaches into the cooler sitting near his hip on the dock to pull out a juice box. His fingers work swiftly to open the plastic wrapper, slipping the straw into the top before handing it to the boy. “Always, buddy.”

–

“You’re doin’ a good job, son. I know you don’t always feel like it, but ya are. And I'm proud of ya.”

Eddie doesn’t expect those words. Doesn’t know what to do with them really. For years his own father regarded him as little. Never cared for his hobbies, likes, interests. Barely paid attention to him most days. And then he’d up and left. Packed up his stuff and walked away from his wife, his son, the life he once knew. Made Eddie wonder if love was this abstract thing. Made him wonder if he deserved it at all.

Then, his mother had passed and he’d been sent to live with Wayne in this home that didn’t really feel like home. He’d taken him under his wing and loved him as best as he could. Showed him patience and love when Eddie had only known dismissiveness and passivity.

And then he’d met you. You with your bright smiles and that endless well of affection. He’d shied away from it at first. Pretended it meant nothing; tucked you away in his mind and pursued you under the guise of friendship. But you’d coaxed him out of the shadows into the light, tended to him and waited as he opened his heart to you, just as Wayne had, and made him question if he’d been wrong all along.

Maybe love wasn’t this abstract thing. Maybe it was something all were entitled to. Something all were deserving of. And that love had grown, had grown into two little souls that shared his heart. Two little souls made up of half his DNA. Two souls who looked to him for guidance, for affection, for a firm foundation to stand on.

He didn’t want to mess it up for his own kids. Wanted them to know every day how much he loved them, how he’d do anything for them, how he’d love his family in the way he’d never known growing up.

“You’re goin’ a good job,” Wayne reiterates, curling a palm around his nephew’s shoulder.

Draws him back to his present reality. In the distance, James talks to his new worm friends still wriggling around in the bucket Wayne had brought along. Promises he’ll take them home and his mom will take care of them. Eddie has yet to remind his son that he and his worm friends will have to part at the end of the day. Instead, he turns to his uncle and smiles, chest blooming with something foreign. An emotion that wells behind his eyes—fills his throat with a tightness he can’t seem to swallow around.

He clears his throat, brushing at his eyes. “I’m trying.”

“That boy loves you, son,” Wayne says, glancing out toward where James is now holding aloft one of his new friends. His head of curly dark hair tips to the side, mouth moving rapidly, likely telling a story like his own father does for him every night before bed. “Hell, I think half of parentin’ is figurin’ things out on the way. I mean, I didn’t know what I was doin’ with you and now here you are. A fine mechanic and a manager at the shop at that, a husband, and a damn good father. To not one, but two babies now. Your Momma would be so happy if she could see you now.”

Eddie glances back over to his son with tears swimming in his eyes. Watches that head of curly hair turn his way. The way his son’s lips curl upward at the sight of him, like he can’t contain the happiness of merely seeing his own father. And Eddie smiles back. Waves as his heart clenches within his chest. Because inside that little boy beats part of his own heart, and anyone can see from looking at James that he’s thriving.

That he’s happy and loved.

And Eddie knows, without a doubt, that he’s doing a damn good job.

-

You’re in the kitchen when Eddie returns. Little Quinn is resting in a sling against your chest as you work to put away newly cleaned dishes while a pot of noodles cook on the stovetop.

Eddie’s shouting he’s home as James rushes into the house, cooler thumping against his shorter thighs. Nearly smacks into your legs just as you hoist him up onto your free hip, somehow managing to not wake the baby in the process.

“Mommy, I caught the biggest fish!” He announces proudly, snuggling his face into the crook of your neck. “And when Quinnie is big enough, I’m gonna teach her how to catch one too!”

He swoops down to kiss his baby sister. Tells her he loves her against the soft curls at her forehead.

Eddie laughs brightly, sauntering into the kitchen to lean against the counter nearest you, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. Drops down lower to kiss Quinn’s head of dark hair. She stirs in the wrap, little noises of contentment filling the air, before she settles back down in her sleep.

“Did you, Jim Jam?” You ask him, eyes wide in your curiosity.

“Yes! And daddy helped. He had to fight the fish. But he won!”

Your eyes dart to Eddie’s, bouncing James higher up onto your hip. “Is that so?”

Eddie’s fingers card through James’ hair, lips pressing against his son’s temple. “I helped him reel it in.”

Your mouth drops open in overly dramatized shock, and James’ eyes light up before the both of you. Eddie swears right then and there he wants another baby (but he’ll ask you later, when Quinn’s not attached to you for feedings every two hours).

“Well…can I see this monstrous fish that the two of you had to fight to bring home?”

And there, in the little cooler, resides the smallest fish you’ve likely ever seen.

But damn, if Eddie’s not happier than he’s ever been in his life.

That feeling bleeds over into the evening. He rides that lovely peak until James and Quinn are finally put to bed, the house silent at last, save for the sound of your quiet breathing beside him in your bed.

“I love you, you know?” He says softly, brushing his hand over the curve of your waist.

Your hips shift backward against his, and he curls his other arm tighter around your form. Draws you nearer. “I love you, too. I’m happy you all had fun today.”

“Can you look at me for a second?” His voice is quiet. Shaky. You roll over at the broken timbre of his voice, hands coming up to thumb along both of his cheeks. At the brush of your lips against his, he continues, “Thank you.”

“For what, honey?”

He drops his forehead into yours. Inhales shakily. “I don’t know. Loving me. Giving me this family. I don’t know what I’m doing half the time, but I’m grateful you picked me to do it with.”

“Eddie…” You wrap your arms tight around him. Hold his head against your chest where he focuses on the calming beat of your heart inside. “You’re a wonderful husband, an amazing son, and an incredible father. I love you, I love you, I love you.”

You punctuate each word with a kiss against his crown, fingers brushing through the curls at the nape of his neck.

“We are so lucky to have you.”

And he smiles. Truly and honestly smiles against your chest, palms splaying over your hips, holding you close.

Because maybe he’s not perfect. Maybe neither of you are. You’re learning together what it means to parent as you navigate this new and unfamiliar territory—as both your babies grow and change and learn. But you’re doing it together and will be forever.

It brings him peace.

And later, when Quinn wakes with a shrill cry, and Eddie pulls her writhing body against his chest to try and soothe her with kisses to her brow, he recalls a conversation he had with Wayne earlier that evening.

“I just have one question?”

“Yeah?”

“What do I do with my daughter when she grows up? She’s so little now. But shit—a girl?”

There’s a pause. “How’s your aim?”

“What’s wrong?” You ask, stirring from where you lay in bed, still tired from Quinn’s earlier feeding.

“Go back to sleep. I've got her.” Eddie draws her into the crook of his elbow, resting her against his chest. She wrinkles her features in another weaker cry, fists shaking in her anger as he rocks her gently. Soon enough the wailing subsides. Those tired eyes of her open to briefly take in her father’s face before shutting once more, mouth working over the bottle he slips into her parted lips, sighing happily into his skin. “Isn’t that right, Quinnie? Daddy’s always got you.”

-

-

#eddie munson fanfiction #lunaloveseddie #dad!eddie munson #dad!eddie munson x mom!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader fluff

[sofasoap]

Lastochka AU - Strange encounter

Pairing : Nikolai x F!Reader ( OC/Mini MacTavish)

Summary: You just can't get a break, can you?

AU to my Lastochka series

WARNING: Mature Theme. Crack Fic. I repeat. Crack fic. don’t take it so seriously. Swearing, violence, death, innuendos.

A/N : The meaningless crack plot continues. Thanks to @siilvan for listening to my weird blabbering on Nik, and @gamergirlbones, here is the crack I promised. Not proof read. I am half asleep. I'll check it again later. * zzz *

masterlist

You crouch behind a dumpster bin, arms wrapping around your messenger bag tightly, panting away, listening to the shouts of foreign languages and footsteps running past your hiding spot. 

For countless times. You wonder why every strange thing has been happening to you, since you moved to this city. Getting picked up by a strange man, who turns out to be your brother’s work associate (with questionable background ), being set up by your best friend with the said dodgy person (well, you have to admit, it turns out to be a decent date. Ok. Pretty good date, you admit.) 

Now you are being chased by mobsters, who want to kill you. 

For reasons unknown. 

“Fucken bitch, think you can get away from us? Hand over the package!!” You made yourself even smaller as you heard the assailant yell out between the alleyways, voice getting closer and closer. 

What package?  You look at the manila envelope inside your bag, is this what they are after? Some business analytic report and boring colour samples your boss requested for the office renovation project? 

Wait. Now you remember. You walked out from the designer’s office, you ran into someone. Both of you dropped whatever was in your hand, apologising to each other as the other person scrambled to pick up the package on the ground, mumbling something incoherent before they scurried away in a hurry. 

The two packages look exactly the same. 

hell damn it. You picked up the wrong envelope. No wonder it weighs heavier than you thought.

Thinking back to your workmate’s joking words when you complain about all the bad luck and strange occurrences you had since you moved here ; 

“ The stars aren’t aligned right, or your chi isn’t matching with this city. Chaos is ruling the universe!” 

Or the goddess of fortune just playing jokes on you.

Banging noises and bins getting overturned snapped you out of self-deprecating musing. Gotta think something fast, you tell yourself, if you don’t want to end up on the news being a dead body floating down the city river, discovered days later. You would rather die from falling out of the helicopter, piloted by Nikolai. 

With a shaky hand and suppressing that fear slowly rising from your stomach,  you fumbled as you dug out the mobile phone from your bag, scrolling through the list of contacts and hoping Johnny isn’t on a black OP mission or middle of nowhere. 

Your thumb came to a stop when you saw a name on the list. Should You? Or should you not? 

Fuck this. Maybe luck will be on your side this time round, you press on the name of the contact, hoping for the best. 

One ring, two rings, three rings. “Come on.. Come on.. Please…” Praying in your mind as you hold your breath while biting your nail,waiting anxiously. 

“Hellllo, my Lastochka, have you finally decided on our third date?” Nikolai purred as he picked up the call. 

Rolling your eyes ,you whispered into the phone harshly, holding back the tears and panic. “There is NO third date if I am gonna die in this dumpster in the next ten minutes!!” 

“Where are you?” You can sense his immediate tone change. He speaks up again before you can notify you of location. “Nevermind, I will just track your phone. Stay where…”  Before he could finish you saw a shadow looming over you, with gun in hand. Letting out a scream and out of instinct, you dropped the phone and deflected the gun split second before the person pulled the trigger, bullet grazing your cheek. Swinging your bag into the person’s groin with all your might, you quickly crawl away as the attacker collapses onto the floor with pain. 

As you scurried away from the danger, you nearly forgot to pick up the phone. Ducking back to retrieve it, you notice the attacker slowly getting up, ready to fight again. Before they had the chance, you gave them another kick in the stomach and harder kick in the head, grab the phone and ran as fast as you could away from the alleyway. 

You didn’t get too far when you heard the sound of gunshots ringing between the buildings, people screaming, followed by a hand pulling you into a broad chest.

Very familiar warm chest and scent. Feeling of safety. Nikolai. 

“Seems I got here in the nick of time.” You feel his chest vibrating as he laughs at his own pun. “But I see you manage to defend yourself with no problem, little bird. Soap had taught you well.”

You would have collapsed on the ground with relief if he wasn’t holding you up with his strong arms. Turning yourself around to lean into his chest, “How did you get here so fast?” you asked. “Did you stalk me again?! Wait, you did, didn’t you? You mention something about tracking..” you looked up at him suspiciously. 

“That is another subject to discuss when your brother gets here next time.” he dismisses you lightly. “So, Are you ok? Why are the local mafia chasing you down??” Pulling you away from him, your body heats up as he cupped your face gently, scanning up and down your body, checking for signs of injury. He frowned as he saw the bullet burnt mark on your cheek, from the bullet barely dodged minutes ago. 

Closing your eyes as let out an exasperated sigh. You quickly recount all the events from earlier on the day. 

“So, here I am, nearly got gunned down, and have something in my possession which I shouldn’t have.” you concluded, fishing out the package from your bag. “I don’t even know what’s in there.

“Well, open it then.” Nikolai nodded towards the envelope, encouraging you to open the mystery package. 

Opening up the seal flap of the package, you took a good look inside. 

“Well, this is definitely not the colour swatch and carpet samples my boss asked for.” you closed the flap again, sighing. “You can have it. I can’t exactly have… that.. Things with me. I don’t know what to do with it.” 

Passing the envelope over to Nikolai, he opened it, eyebrow raised and said nothing. 

“What do I do now??” You muttered as you stood there, totally lost. “They know I had the package.. They are going to try to track me down.” You bit your lip, thinking hard. Should you go back to work? No, that will only bring trouble to more innocent people. Hotel? Out of option too. 

“I’ll sleep with you tonight.”

Did you hear him right?

“What????” you took a step back.  “Wait, wow, hold up! We are not up to that stage in our relationship yet!“ 

“Does that mean we will eventually get there?” He asked with a sly smile on his face, “should I be prepared? Get stuff ready? What would you like?” 

You are mortified, you are just digging a hole for yourself here. “Get your mind out of the gutter! We are talking about serious business here!” you berated him. “So what do you mean by sl.. Sleeping with.. With me tonight?”  you stuttered, face burning. 

“I’ll stay with you, until the situation resolves.” Patting you on the head. “I’ll contact Price later. See what he can do and organise. But in the meantime,  you are stuck with me.”

Honesetly? You don’t know if that is a good idea or not. 

But part of you can’t deny maybe it’s not such a bad idea as you sat on your bed, watch him changing out of his shirt into comfortable loungewear, you secretly gawked at his broad back and the corded muscle, how it flexes when he put one arm through the sleeves, and into another… 

“Should I take my pants off in front of you too?” Nikolai turned around suddenly, a devious smile on his face. 

Caught red handed. Well, not your fault when he decided to change in your room, with you in here. He claims he isn't leaving your side, “Just in case. They might break in any minute.” 

You had to kick him out of the bathroom when he tried to follow you in. “There’s no window in here!!! I will be alright!!” you half screamed and slammed the door into his face. 

“It’s not like I haven’t seen a dick before.” You retorted, giving him a nonchalant shrug, but in fact, you were nervous as hell. 

Nikolai hummed, his expression not giving anything away, and proceeded to remove his pants. You tried to look away, but you couldn’t. Oh, that’s a nice bulge. You noticed as he turned slightly, facing you side on.  You clamp your thighs tight subconsciously, a pool of warmth growing down there. Fuck. should have told him to sleep on the couch, so you could relief your self in private. 

A dip in the bed snapped you out of your daydream. You looked up, his beautiful dark eyes stares back at you. “Cm’ere  Lastochka. Sleep on this side.” he commanded. Leaving no room for argument. He is trying to shield you from the window and door.

Forever a protector. You feel both annoyed and touched by his action. Sick of being treated as a damsel in distress, but you know well that the situation is way out of your control, you would have died if he didn’t come to your rescue earlier this afternoon. 

Switching the bedside table light off, he tucked both of you in, kissing you lightly on the head. 

Not tonight. You are not going to give into your desire tonight. You are still in danger. It’s not time to think about how nice he smells, his large hand cradling your head, how well it will cup your pussy and it is ALSO not the time to think how his dick is gonna stretch you wide….

“You alright there?” he whispered.

“Why do you ask?” you replied, words slightly slurred, eyes half closed from exhaustion from the day’s event. 

“Because you are grabbing onto my shirt. Quite tightly too.” he mused. 

You let the shirt go immediately. Embarrassed, you flip your body away from him, ignoring his chuckle and force yourself to try to fall back to sleep. 

Your eyes shot open to the sound of glass breaking in the living room. Nikolai was already standing by the edge of the bed, back towards you, gun ready in hand. 

“Just as I predicted.” You can hear a gleefulness laced with malice in his voice. A hunter waiting for his prey to show up, ready to toy with them. 

The other side of Nikolai you have never seen before. It sends shivers down your spine. Note to self, you thought, never get onto his bad side. 

Shooting you a brief glance before turning back to face the door, he pointed to the pillow he was sleeping on, “There’s another gun under there. Grab it and stay behind me.” he commanded in a hushed tone. From your previous observation, how your brother and the boys behave, you know better not to disobey him when he is in full commander mode. 

Nikolai yanks the bedroom door open and throws a knife you didn’t notice he was holding into the first intruder’s throat, killing him instantly. You barely suppressed a scream as you saw the body collapsed onto the floor, blood flowing onto the carpet. 

Your landlord is going to kill you. Was your initial thought. How are you going to get rid of the blood stain?!!

The intruders were clearly caught by surprise. They were only expecting you inside the apartment. The other two immediately trained their guns at the two of you, but faltered when they saw who they were up against. 

Nikolai growled at them in a language you couldn’t quite understand, the two stunned assassins nodded quickly, dragging their dead team mate’s body with them as they hastily retreated from the broken window. 

You sighed as you looked at the damaged window. Now how are you going to explain that to the landlord too? Shaking your head, you moved behind Nikolai,avoiding the broken glass on the ground as you joined him peeking out the window, making sure the enemies were true to their word in retreat without causing further problems.

“What did you say to them????” you gaped in wonder, amazed how fast they came, and how fast they went. 

“Easy. I told them you are my wife. And if they lay a finger on you, they will have me to deal with.” You snapped your head towards him,  brain freezed for a second at what he has just told you.  

“This is what I propose, just in case they go and check the marriage registry. We should head to the registry office tomorrow to get married. So what do you say, Lastochka, will you marry me?” 

WHAT. DID .HE .JUST. SAY.

“..... get someone to clean up the carpet first before we discuss marriage please. I am going to lose my bond money because of that.” 

Tag list:

@homicidal-slvt @nrdmssgs @siilvan @roosterr

@preciouslittlecreature @jynxmirage @gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot

@glitterypirateduck

@whydoilikewhump

@alypink

@liyanahelena

@caramlizedtomatos

@ashwasherelol

@okayyadriana

#cod nikolai #nikolai cod #nikolai cod x reader #nikolai cod x f!reader #taskforce 141 #nikolai reboot call of duty #call of duty #nikolai cod x female reader #cod x reader #cod x you #call of duty mw 2022 #mini mactavish #mini mactavish universe #sofasoap writes #crack fic #dont take it so seriously

[writercole]

The Confession

Summary: Jake found her. Now what's he going to do?

Words: 1510

Warnings: Physical assault, confession of feelings, lying

A/N: I can't believe this is the end. I'm technically drafting this post before the series even starts for you guys so I have no idea how much you're going to even like it. But I hope you've enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Aside from Sounds of Someday, I think this is my favorite.

Tag list is done. Please follow @coleslibrary and turn on notifications for story updates.

Jake paced on the sidewalk, trying to figure out what to do. He’d finally gotten his mom to give up Y/N’s location. It was a fight that took a three hour lecture about hypocrisy and waiting too long, but she relented, threatening to disown him if he hurt her adoptive daughter again. He’d planned a speech before he got on the plane, rehearsed it for the several hour flight, but now that he was here, he had no idea what to say. On his third lap around the block, he finally got the courage to walk up to the door and knock, deciding to just wing it.

The door swung open to reveal a bleach blonde man a couple inches shorter than Jake, one he’d met only a time or two. “Billy,” he grumbled.

“Bagman,” Billy spat, leaning his forearm on the door frame. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to talk to Y/N,” Jake told him, raising his chin and daring him to deny the request, “and it’s Hangman.”

“She ain’t here,” Billy informed him, “and I doubt she’d want to talk to you anyway.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means, Bagman, that she didn’t want you to know where she was for the last month. She told me that you’d fucked her over for the last time and that she was done with you.”

“Fucked her over?” Jake scoffed. “Are you sure you don’t have the two of us confused? I’m not the one who bailed on her four months ago after trying like hell to dull her spark for a year.”

“I didn’t bail on her,” Billy denied, “she broke up with me.”

“You were leaving her and you know it. Now just tell me where she is before I beat it out of you.”

“I don’t know why you’re even making a fuss over an easy whore,” Billy sneered. “You could get anyone you want, or so I hear. Though I have to say, it’s some damn good pussy for an easy whore.”

Jake didn’t even realize he was moving. He saw red as soon as the words exited Billy’s mouth, his arm cocking back and pushing his fist into Billy’s jaw with enough force to knock the man backwards several steps.

Tires squealing on asphalt was the only thing that stopped Jake from swinging again.

She was rushing out of the house to handle an issue on base when Billy finally showed up to talk. Instead of telling him to come back, she told him to sit in the kitchen and wait for her. She didn't plan on being gone for almost an hour. She groaned in frustration when she finally climbed back into her car.

She was halfway back when her phone alerted her to camera activity on her porch. She checked it at a stoplight and swore when she saw that Jake was standing at the door talking to Billy. Unmuting the video, she listened to their argument as she drove, speeding and taking corners much faster than she should have. She pulled into the driveway and saw Jake swing, hitting Billy in the jaw.

“Shit,” she swore again, rushing out of her car and into the middle of the two men. “What is going on?”

“He just showed up here and punched me!” Billy accused, rubbing his jaw and shooting daggers at Jake.

“I came over here to talk to you and this guy,” Jake explained, pointing at Billy in the doorway, “wanted to start shit and called you an easy whore. So yes, I punched him.”

“I never said that!” Billy shouted, stepping towards Jake. “He’s the one who called you a whore.”

“You son of a bitch!” Jake yelled, lunging for Billy.

She grabbed Jake’s arm and he stopped in his tracks, taking a step behind her. She turned to face him with tears in her eyes. “What’s going on?”

“What’s going on is that guy,” Jake spat, “is a total jerk and you deserve someone better. Someone who respects you and would treat you like a queen.”

“And who would that be, Jake? I don’t exactly have a whole lot of options.”

“He’s just running his mouth so that he can sleep with you,” Billy goaded from behind her, “that’s all he’s ever wanted from you. Why he thinks you’re easy, I’ll never know.”

“You lying bastard!” Jake shouted as he pushed her away, pulling his fist back to hit Billy again, stopping when something got between them.

Valkyrie stood between them and pushed Jake back, reaching in her pocket and unlocking her phone. She navigated to the recording of the argument and pressed play, Billy’s voice clear as day repeating the words he was denying. She stared him down, daring him to tell her that the recording was wrong.

“Please stop lying, Billy,” she growled as she locked her phone.

“What? Baby, you can’t believe this guy. He’s dicked you around for how long now?” Billy rebutted, taking a step towards her.

Jake stepped up behind her, staring daggers at the man trying to bargain his way back into Y/N’s arms.

“Get out, Billy. You can’t own up to your actions, even when they’re on video. We’re done. Over. Go find yourself another easy whore,” she repeated, her words sharp and final. 

“Fine,” Billy spat as his eyes became fiery, “but don’t come crawling back to me when this piece of shit breaks your heart.” 

Before Jake could make a move, she had pulled her fist back and released it right into Billy’s nose. 

“Get. Out. Of. My. House,” she sneered as she looked down on him.

Billy turned and stomped away, firing up his car and peeling out of her driveway. She turned to Jake with slumped shoulders and watery eyes, looking up at his face in exhaustion.

“How did you find me?” she asked.

“Now, don’t be mad,” he prefaced, “but Mom told Phoenix when she called looking for information.”

“Why are you here, then, Hangman?” she sighed.

“You didn’t say goodbye when you left,” he said.

“Really? You’re here because I didn’t say goodbye?” she scoffed. “I told you that Simpson needed me -”

“No, he didn’t,” Jake interrupted. “Simpson didn’t call you back. You called him to get you out.”

“I don’t want -”

“You need to tell me why you left,” he whispered, “please. I have to know why you ran away.”

She sighed again, squeezing her eyes shut. “You have to know? Okay, fine. I heard you talking to Suze. Telling her that we weren’t together and that she didn’t need to be jealous. I couldn’t take it. I thought…” she trailed off, biting her lip and tapping her foot as she crossed her arms over her chest. “I thought that something had shifted the day before, that we had something. I know we said no feelings but I was right. I fell in love with you and you don’t feel the same way. So I left. You could have your time with Suze and I could get away and not have to see it.”

“Is that all you heard?” he questioned quietly, searching her face for answers.

“What else did I need to hear? You said plenty,” she snapped, her gaze finally meeting his again, fire burning behind the tears.

“I did say plenty, but you didn’t hear all of it,” he replied as he stepped towards her, hooking his finger under her chin to keep her focus. “I told Suze that it would never happen with her. That it was a mistake that I was ever with her and that you were the one I wanted by my side. 

“You see, it happened so slowly that I didn’t realize it. When Suze approached me, I looked for you, I tried to find you so that I could get away from her without my family asking me why I was pissed. When I finally found you, you were leaving. In that moment, when you were running away, I knew I was a goner. You jumped into that cab and you took my heart with you. I’ve barely been able to breathe since you’ve been gone.

“I know I said that I wasn’t trying to marry you, but that’s changed, Y/N. I’m hopelessly in love with you and I don’t want to spend another day without you by my side.” 

Tears started falling down her cheeks, the fire in her eyes had died out only to be replaced with hope and longing. “Don’t mess around with me,” she said, her voice wavering with emotion.

“I would never dream of it,” he assured her, his thumbs brushing the tears from her face. “You’re it for me, Y/N. And if you say no, if you tell me to get out and never come back, I will. But I really hope you don’t. I hope you give me the chance to be the man you have always deserved.”

“Jake,” she mumbled as she gazed up at him.

“Hmm?”

“Kiss me.”

Everything: @thelastpyle @deangirl93 @evergreencowboy @katelyn--renee @fictional-affairs @paintlavillered @buckys-zomdoll @polireader @b3autyfuldisast3r @welcometothefandommultiverse @mlovesstories @supraveng @xoxabs88xox

Top Gun: @princessmisery666 @evansrogerskitten @bradshaw-fanclub @saiyanprincessswanie @luckyladycreator2 @princessphilly @ahockeywrites @clints-lucky-arrow @wildbornsiren @shanimallina87 @fuckyeahhangman @blue-aconite @hope-love-equality2 @peachiicherries @marvelousmermaid @therebeccaw @green-socks @imjess-themess @jostystyles @mayhem24-7forever @callsignaries @a-reader-and-a-writer @ahopelessromanticwritersworld

#writercole #jake 'hangman' seresin #jake seresin x reader #hangman #hangman x reader #the best benefits #hangman x valkyrie #the end #top gun maverick

[nochukoo97]

hold me while you wait (2)

Pairing: Jungkook x OC

Summary: Fast forward a week or two, Jk climbs a literal tree to hide with oc, feelings get unleashed, OC likes to scold and nag jk, he cuts her off with a… 😊🙏

Word count: 1.1k+

part one

It’s a Friday night, and you’re lying peacefully on your bed, watching a series on your laptop. You had moved back into your parent’s place since the holidays had started and did not need to stay at your apartment. The only reason why you had moved out of your parent’s house was because the apartment you had bought was much closer to your college, making travelling time shorter and more efficient for you.

Your parent’s and Jungkook’s parents had bought houses next to each other, which was also a reason why you two grew up so close with each other. Jungkook would come over to your house for playdates when young and vice versa for you. You and Jungkook’s room faced each other, and Jungkook had tried to climb across to your room from his by climbing onto the tree in the middle of both the houses, to which he ended up with a badly broken arm. Fortunately, and surprisingly, although he had quite literally fallen from the second floor on a tree, Jungkook, at the tender age of 12, had barely a reaction when his bone had gruesomely broke in half from the impact of the fall.

Suddenly, while you were deeply invested in the show’s drama, you hear a series of loud knocks coming from your window. You instantly freeze, thinking that an intruder or robber was trying to get into your room. Quickly, you grab the umbrella sitting in the corner of your room and approach the window, pulling apart the curtains, ready to smash whoever was trying to break in, when you see brown fluffy hair and those brown pupils staring back at you. You gasps as you see Jungkook on your balcony, smiling straight at you and pointing at the sliding door, motioning you to open it.

“Jungkook, how the hell did you get there!” You whisper-scream, not sure if your parent’s were in their room across from yours. The walls of your room were extremely thin, everytime you had dropped a pen or an eraser, they would somehow be able to hear a soft thud all the way across from their rooms, so you did not want to take any chances. “I climb from my balcony to the tree and hopped onto your balcony, how else do you think I got here? Flew from your garden up to the second floor?” He teases you as you tsks at him and smacked his arm.

“Don’t tell anyone I’m here, I just fought with my mum and she tried to ground me in my room,” He says as he rolls his eyes. “What does she think I am, 12? Geez, 18 years old and still getting grounded to the confiments of my room!” He complains as you open your mouth to begin scolding him.

“So your first thought was to climb-” You start scolding him, before all you feel is Jungkook’s lips crashing onto yours, pushing you into the bathroom connected to your room and locking the door. You gasp loudly as you push him back, staring at him in total shock and your cheeks flustered pink.

“Y/N! Have you seen Jungkook? His mother is here finding for him!” Your mother shouts as she opens the door to your room. Your eyes widen and you panic a little, “No mum! I’m just about to shower, I haven’t heard from him!” You shout back as she replies an ‘okay’ before heading out your room and closing your door.

“What was that?” you whisper as you frown and Jungkook who seemed unbothered by what just happened, even more so proud as he smirks at you. “I heard footsteps approaching your room so of course I had to do something to shut you up,” He tries to reason as he laughs quietly seeing your flustered reaction. “Shut me up by kissing your best friend on the lips?” You scold him, as he frowns at the term you had used.

To be honest, while the both of you were kids, Jungkook had made a promise to marry you when you two were older, and from then on you decided that the only boy you would ever be with was Jungkook. Even when you were in a relationship with Jaehyun, you still had a small part of you calling out to him, a small part of you still having that crush you had on him in middle school. Seeing other girls flirt with him made you angry even in your three year relationship, and you had tried to suppress your feelings down and convince yourself Jaehyun was the one for you.

Now looking back, you realised that all along, Jungkook was the one by your side. The one who promised to marry you when older, the one who comforted you whenever you felt sad, the one who made you laugh the most, and the one who you missed the most.

“I like you, you know,” Jungkook suddenly confesses, his words take you by surprise at how straightforward he was being, “I-what?” you stutter. “You heard me clearly,” He raises his eyebrow at you, Jungkook was not blind, he knew throughout your relationship that there was still a part of you that will come back to him someday, so eventhough he felt some sort of jealousy and hurt while you were dating Jaehyun, he told himself to wait, to wait until you finally come back to the boy who promised to marry you one day. The boy who had loved you ever since young.

You tried to get a word out of you, you tried to think how to say “I like you too” without saying it. You weren’t a very bold person, no matter how much you liked someone, there was no way you would have the guts to confess. Jaehyun had been the first to confess, which was why you two were in a relationship. If not, you would probably have not even try to get his number despite your massive crush on him back then.

Instead, you choose to crash your lips back on his, tasting the cherry lip balm that you had originally introduced to him in middle school. Jungkook’s eyes widen for a second before he kisses you back, hands travelling to your waist and pulling you closer.

You’re both panting softly as he pulls away from you gently, both your eyes staring into each others, not believing what had just happened.

“You know the last time you climbed that tree,” You start to scold him again. Jungkook groans in response at your constant nagging at him, “Come on, can we forget about that now? I wanna kiss you again,” he mumbles as he leans back in to your lips.

Finally, you are with the boy who had loved you ever since the start, and are much happier than you could ever be.

#jungkook fluff #jungkook #jungkook au #jungkook ff #jungkook smut #jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #bts #bts ff #bts fic

[lizzie-is-here]

like the dawn

part xvii- dust and blood

“if you must die, i’ll envy even the earth that wraps your body” - albert camus

summary: you can’t stop thanos. now you have to deal with the consequences.

wordcount: 4k

warnings: cussing, violence, death (oops), angst (oops), breakdowns, unhealthy coping mechanisms, more violence, fluff if you squint

taglist: @whelvedfeelingsstuff @sebsgirl71479 @rebloggingmyrecs @babyblublossom @local-mr-frog @thenyxsky @capsiclesdoll @moonlightreader649 @saranghaey @almosttoopizza @itsprashimusic

a/n: tfw you forget ur writing a series and write a new piece in one night 🤭 anyway, i really like this bit so i hope y’all enjoy 🤍 i love y’all and i’m sorry it’s emotionally devastating also i literally am posting this from class

previous part | series masterlist | next part

As soon as the barrier around Wakanda opens, the entire army charges forward.

You take to the air in an instant, watching in disgust as the dog-like aliens pour from the gap. They’re concentrated right outside the border.

Charging up your powers, you slip through and cast down dozens of blasts on the horde. They shriek and wail in pain as you duck back inside the force field, shooting down the few that try to jump up at you.

They’re easy to kill. Hardly death fodder, if anything. But there’s thousands. And they keep coming.

One tackles Bucky to the ground before you swoop down, kicking it away and blowing it into bits.

“You need to be more careful,” you scold as you help him up. He spins a knife in the new vibranium arm, nodding.

“Yeah, yeah. Go tell Steve that.” He points to your partner, who’s standing in the middle of a river, fighting three aliens at once.

You start towards him, but a few quick punches from the blond kill them before you can even take a step.

“You know what? Never mind,” Bucky says. He stares a bit before smirking. “Violence looks good on him.”

“Hell yeah. Cathartic, even,” you respond. From the water, Steve feels your eyes on him.

He raises his arms. “Are you two gonna join us or just stare at me?” he shouts, before kicking another alien into the muddy banks.

Out of nowhere, a giant metal weapon flies through the air, smashing Rhodey to the ground. When the chain retracts, it returns to the hand of the larger, bulkier alien at the edge of the border.

More aliens swarm in, and you can barely keep them at bay. You don’t want to risk flying, not when that thing easily knocked a Stark-made suit from the sky.

It’s frantic dodging and firing, and the combination of Bucky’s machine gun, shouting from all sides, and the vicious growling of the creatures is overwhelming.

“There’s too many of them,” Bruce shouts over comms. You don’t even have room to breathe, let alone respond. Drawing back your bow, you fire an arrow down an alien’s throat.

“I know! But Shuri has to get the stone-“ You’re cut off by a light striking the ground. The resulting blast is as bright as your powers.

An ax flies from the stream, lighting trailing behind it. Thor.

When the glow fades, the god himself stands in the crater. Alongside… is that a tree and a raccoon? A raccoon with a gun?

“Oh, shit, I really am going crazy,” Bucky mumbles.

You blink a few times. “Then that makes two of us.”

A few yards away, the helmet of the Hulkbuster suit retracts. From the comically large suit, Bruce cackles. “You guys are so screwed now!”

Thor runs at the enemy lines, demanding Thanos as his newly forged weapon glows with power.

With the new arrival, the tide begins to turn. You fight your way to Steve as the aliens are distracted.

“Glad you could join me,” he snarks. You chuckle, shaking your head as you fire arrow after arrow.

“I only came over because you also need to be careful. I can’t kick alien ass and babysit you two.” He dodges an attack before sending the creature flying.

“I’m Captain America, (Y/N), I don’t need to be-“

The alien with the retractable hammer sends it flying towards the blond before you blast it away, searing with heat in the water.

You raise a brow at Steve. “Like I said. Careful.”

Bucky comes running towards the both of you. Right away, you go into alert mode.

“Are you okay? What’s going on?”

“I’m fine.” He promises you and Steve. “Uh, the raccoon with the gun tried to buy my arm, but other than that…”

You all look at the small creature. It’s shouting obscenities as it crawls around.

“I’ve seen weirder,” Steve decides after a moment.

You make a disbelieving sound as you ready another arrow. “Are you sure?”

A low rumbling shakes the ground before he can joke back. Something’s moving, and fast. The ground bulges, and some sort of technical monstrosity tears out.

They’re like giant razors, rolling across the field and ripping up everything in their path. T’Challa calls for everyone to fall back, but you take to the sky instead. Even though the machines are taller than the trees, 70 years of training helps you find the weak spot.

Nimbly dodging the sharp edges, you fire a powerful beam of light into the center of the wheel, along the side where the engine is stored. Thanks to the radiating heat, the whole thing shuts down, crumbling apart and running into the ground.

But there are nine more, and you don’t have the energy to keep this up.

“Sam, Rhodey.” You call out to the other fliers. “Focus on the sides near the center, there’s some sort of engine there.”

They respond in the affirmative, and after a while, drive it back toward the enemy. It’s progress, but it’s too slow. People are dying.

Then you spot a glowing red blur.

Wanda’s powers cover the wheels, tossing them into the air before bringing them down atop the oncoming aliens. She smiles up at you, nodding in unspoken understanding.

She’s unstoppable, really. Whatever her powers are, they pack quite the punch. And it looks like you could almost win with her influence alone.

“Guys, we got a Vision situation here,” Sam says. Shit. He’s tackled out of the air as he heads toward the forest.

From the center of the fighting, Steve shouts, “Somebody get to Vision.”

“I will,” you call to him. It’s not like any of the ugly space dogs are jumping up to where you hover 200 feet in the air, and the alien generals are preoccupied with Wanda, Thor, and the rest of the group. Well, mainly Wanda and Thor.

You hear them before you see them. Bruce trails you as you spot the giant alien and a skinnier male. He’s carrying a scythe.

The scientist lands first and almost immediately starts duking it out with the larger one. So much for teamwork. You practically crash-land between the android and alien, light swirling around your hands.

“Back up,” you warn the wrinkled creature. “Or I’ll blast you back into space.”

He sneers at you, before spinning the weapon in his hands. Okay, not one for conversation, you think to yourself as he charges.

You block the strike by grabbing the pole and slamming your elbow in between the plates of his armor. Even as he crumples to the ground, he clings to the scythe.

You should’ve melted it when you had it in your grasp, because before you can block he leaps up and slices it across your leg. Flinging yourself away from him as you groan in pain, you watch as Vision rushes forward.

“C’mon, c’mon,” you wince, watching the skin stitch together. The cut was deep, and you’re already exhausted. “Kind of in an important situation right now.”

While you’re still down, the alien manages to stab Vision through the gut. You didn’t even think it was possible. One of the robot’s many abilities was to change his density, so if something was thrown at him, it could simply pass through without harm. But as you watched, you saw his body flickering, almost glitching.

“I thought you were formidable, machine,” the thing hisses. “But you’re dying, like any man.” He yanks the weapon from your friend’s body, and only then do you find the energy to blast him back on his insectoid ass.

When your leg is still healing, you stand shakily.

Hissing from the pain, you limp to the alien. He swings the scythe again, but you grab the hilt, kicking it from his hands.

You yank a knife from your belt, allowing yourself to fall back on instinct as you slash and stab. Even if you only manage to nick him a few times, it’s better than letting him close to Vision.

A downward slash here, a stab as he dodges, toss the knife to your other hand and go for the face.

Eventually, you get tired of attacking and he gets tired of dodging. The alien kicks you square in the ribs, knocking the air from your lungs as you fly back. Shit.

He looms over you, scythe in hand. You groan. It probably won’t kill you, even if he stabs all the way through your body. But it’s gonna hurt like a bitch.

Your savior comes in the form of Steve, in all of his spangly glory, knocking the alien off his feet.

“Get out of here!” he yells to you and Vision. “Go! Get to Bucky!”

Rather than doing as he says, you fire off a beam of light at the man, tag-teaming him as Vision struggles to get on his feet.

“I’m not leaving you,” you sternly say. “And I’m definitely not losing either of you dumbasses.”

Steve has the gall to laugh before the alien throws him over a log and chokes him. From behind the two, the android gestures to the scythe. It’s still on the ground.

You grab it as the two fight, tossing it to Vision.

He stabs it through the alien just as Steve starts choking. Raising the shish-kebabed creature before tossing him away, Vision almost collapses before Steve helps him up.

“I told you to go,” the latter chastises. Despite the gaping, glowing wound in his chest, Vision chuckles.

He repeats Steve’s quote from earlier. “We don’t trade lives, Captain.”

A loud boom sounds from behind your group. As soon as you raise glowing hands, Thor bursts through the tree line.

“Hrafn.” He calls you by a language that even you don’t recognize. “I need your help.”

Steve presses a kiss to your hand as you take off, soaring into the air after the god.

“There, target the seams,” he shouts over the howling wind. You can feel his powers crackle. They’re more erratic than yours or Wanda’s, but they’re also destructive. Perfect for blowing up alien ships.

You cast blasts at the tech, your precise attacks followed shortly by Thor’s lightning.

Then something changes in the air. You feel it in your bones. A deep unrest that stills you mid-air.

Your boys. You have to get to them.

Thor’s already gone by the time you drop from the sky. You want to shout for them, but if this feeling means what you think, you don’t want to draw in any attention.

You practically jump a foot in the air when Steve and Bucky appear from the brush behind you.

“Doll,” the latter gasps, hurrying towards you. He grabs your face in gentle hands as Steve joins the both of you.

Swallowing hard, your voice almost breaks when you speak again.

“Do you feel that?” you whisper. It’s haunting, and sends a cold chill up your boys’ spines. “It’s in the air, it’s…”

Steve raises a hand to his earpiece. “Everyone, on my position. We have incoming.”

It’s silent for a moment, then something appears in the woods. It almost hurts, the wave of energy that washes over you.

He’s there.

Thanos is as ugly as you imagined. He’s absurdly tall and purple. But more than anything else, he wears a gauntlet. And there are five stones in it.

He’s come for the last.

Steve expands the shield on his arm, sighing slow and long.

“Eyes up. Stay sharp.”

You stay further back, waiting and watching. Bruce is first to charge, but phases through the titan and lands halfway in a cliff.

Steve is thrown by a purple surge, so is T’Challa. Sam’s wings are deactivated and he crashes to the forest floor.

You run over to Wanda as Thanos fights the others.

“I’ll hold him off.” It’s too late to save Vision. “I’m sorry,” you say, gently squeezing her hand.

Rhodey goes down, so do Bucky, Okoye, and Nat. Plus the tree alien. But you’re not too worried about him.

You draw your bow, aimed on the titan as you pour all of your energy into a single arrow. Light pours from it, searing and burning. You loose it.

Thanos tries to block it, but it soars to its mark in his chest. He goes to rip it out, but you raise a hand and force the light deeper.

He’s groaning in pain now, clawing at his chest where the light is embedded. If you can just get close enough, you can get the gauntlet, or maybe the stones from it.

You creep forward, hand twisting every time he seems to push through the pain.

‘I can do it,’ you think. ‘The gauntlet is right there.’

The second you lay a hand on the golden glove, Thanos’s eyes shoot open. Through the pain and the literal burning hole in his chest, he grabs you and throws you away.

The force with which you slam onto the ground causes your head to fling back, hitting the ground with enough force to knock the average human out.

You blink hazily, gasping for air and words and your boys. If Thanos is going to win and you’re going to die, you want to spend your last moments with them. They’ll move on without you, you think.

A part of you wants them to move on. To remember you fondly and smile as they learn to live without you. But you’re too selfish. You never want them to live without you.

Turning your head to the side, you see Bucky a few feet away. You crawl to him, dragging yourself across the leaves.

“(Y/N)?” he whispers. He’s as dazed as you are.

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s me, Buck.” Slowly, he pulls you close, shielding both of your eyes from the titan. You don’t have enough energy to even stand, much less put up a fight.

And then the Mind Stone shatters. You feel it, and manage to raise your head to see. Vision’s body is gray, and Wanda is sobbing, but maybe it’ll keep Thanos from the last stone.

“He’s got the Time Stone,” Bucky mumbles. Your heart drops.

Just as he said, Vision is back in the blink of an eye. And Thanos crushes his skull as he pries the stone from his head.

If the energy upon his arrival was powerful, it grows stronger with all six stones. You tuck your head under Bucky’s chin, trying to fight off the headache.

From behind you, Thor strikes. You hear a blow connect, and a whisper of, “I told you… You’d die for that.”

The next words remove any hope you had.

“You should’ve gone for the head.”

Bucky barely manages to roll over to take the brunt of the explosion, holding you even closer. He doesn’t know where Steve is. He’s almost too scared to look up to find him, lest all he sees is his body.

Gentle hands give him a breath of relief.

Steve grabs the both of you, helping you sit up and Bucky to stand.

“Where’d he go?” the blond asks.

From beside you, Bucky feels something in his flesh hand. A tingle, like it’s asleep.

“Steve? (Y/N)?”

You want to scream. He’s dissolving, he’s fucking dissolving and you’ve healed bullet wounds and lacerations and bones completely out of their place but you can’t heal this.

All you can do is hug him as Steve does the same. You’re both crying now, pressing kisses to his lips before it’s too late.

“Please don’t go,” you whisper.

Bucky laughs, scared and quiet. “It’s all right, doll. You two take care of each other, and I’ll see you a long time from now. You’ll be okay.”

“Not without you,” Steve pleads. He can’t watch this. Not again.

Then there’s nothing. He’s gone.

No blood, no screams. Just… dust.

In the field, you see more soldiers turning to dust. They just vanish. Painlessly, at least.

Steve goes to reach you, comfort you and for you to comfort him. He needs to know you aren’t going to disappear too.

And you won’t. A part of him knows that.

But when his hand goes to pull you in it dissolves.

“No.” Your tone is final. You’re shaking and the tears are coming silently now. Grabbing his quickly disappearing arm, you push your powers to their limit. But there’s nothing to heal. There’s nothing to heal because there’s technically no injury. No illness.

You sob out in frustration, wishing for the first time that HYDRA had fucked you up even more if it would let you save at least one of the loves of your life.

“I’m so sorry,” Steve whispers, kissing your forehead. You’re going to be alone again. You’re going to watch both of them die and it breaks him knowing that it’ll break you. “I’m sorry sweetheart, you don’t deserve this.”

Your knees buckle under you and he’s not there to catch you.

Neither of them are.

You cradle your arms to your chest, and curl in on yourself. Your forehead rests on the dust, but you can't bring yourself to gather the remains.

The last time you lost Steve and Bucky, there was still a sliver of hope. But you just watched them both slip through your fingers.

They’re gone.

———————————————————————

None of the surviving Avengers have it in them to pull you away from the dust-covered ground, not when you’re screaming and sobbing hours later.

After the crying, you go silent.

It’s late at night when Natasha comes to check on you.

Your eyes are bloodshot and puffy, your hair is messy from where you’ve grabbed at it, and there’s marks on your hands where you dug your nails in.

She sits next to you without saying anything. Instead, she puts an arm around your shoulder, and lets you lean on her. Your grief is palpable.

As smart as Natasha Romanoff is, she’s slightly lacking in the healthy coping mechanisms department. So she proposes the exact thing that will get you out of this goddamned field.

“Thanos is still out there.”

It’s all she has to say.

“I’m going to kill him. And it’s not going to be quick,” you respond. Your voice is hoarse and level but tired all the same.

She nods. “Once we find him, he’s all yours.”

———————————————————————

You wish you could say that you were excited when Tony came home alive. However, the weeks were blurring together and everything was washed in an all-consuming grief and frustration.

When Tony came off the plane and saw you alone, he knew in an instant.

He knew better than to wish you well, or give you condolences. All of the thoughts and prayers in the world can’t bring back a loved one. Tony knows that more than most.

And the day later, the surviving heroes gather. There’s a new girl, Carol Danvers, another alien that knows the raccoon. You try to be polite, but you can’t. You’re too drained, too tired.

And honestly, you’re angry above everything else. You’re tired of being so fucking sad. You hate how much of your life you’ve spent grieving, and how every time you get something, it’s ripped away in the cruelest way possible.

You’ve lost the ability to distinguish anger and sadness. The ache hurts just the same. Burning.

“It’s been 23 days since Thanos came to Earth.” You look up at Rhodey’s voice, and immediately wish you hadn’t.

You’re met with a picture of Bucky. An ID.

James Barnes. When it flashes away, Steve Rogers takes his place.

You swipe the screen away.

Natasha doesn’t mention it. “World governments are in pieces.The parts that are still working… are trying to take a census and it looks like he did… He did exactly what he said he was gonna do.”

“Thanos wiped out… 50% of all living creatures,” she finishes.

“Where is he now?” Tony asks before you can.

Rhodey shrugs. “We don’t know. He just opened a portal and walked through.”

The genius rolls forward a bit in his wheelchair, pointing to Thor.

“What’s up with him?”

“Oh, he’s pissed,” the raccoon, who’s name you’ve come to know as Rocket, sighs. “He thinks he failed.”

“And he didn’t?” you spit. You know you’ll regret blaming him later. It’s not his fault any more than yours. But now, you just need a reason that you’re alone again.

“No, he definitely did. But there’s a lot of that going around, ain’t there?”

“Honestly, until this exact second, I thought you were a Build-A-Bear.”

You listen to them argue back and forth, tensions rising, flinching as Tony rips out the IV and starts yelling.

“Listen!” you snap. “All I want, is to know where Thanos went.” Your voice starts shaking again, but shit, you aren’t going to start crying. Because if you start, you won’t stop.

“I- I just need to know where he went so I can do what I do best, and… And you’ll never have to deal with me again.”

No one wants to ask what you mean by that.

Nebula, a blue cybernetic alien, speaks up.

“I can tell you where Thanos is.”

———————————————————————

Before loading onto the ship and heading to the planet the titan was on, you dug through an old bin.

Some more of yours and… Bucky’s equipment had been recovered from Siberia a while back. And in your box there was a weapon.

HYDRA had tried to train you with the scythe, with a blade far larger than the one carried by the alien a few weeks ago. It didn’t go well. A scythe really isn’t meant for constant combat. It’s a tool for execution. That’s why you were HYDRA’s scythe.

It’ll work perfectly.

The group climbs on the ship, and jets off. At any other time, you’d be in awe of the vastness of space. Now… you squeeze your eyes shut before you think too much.

Carol flies back up from where she went to scout. “There’s no ships, no armies, no recon. It’s just him.”

The planet is gorgeous. Even through all of your cynicism, you can’t deny that.

Even so, your eyes are set on the cabin in the distance. You split up and arrive last, scythe at your side and your eyes set on the titan.

He’s well restrained. Danvers had him in a chokehold, Bruce has one shoulder in the grasp of the Hulkbuster suit, Rhodey has the other arm, and Thor’s chopped off the hand with the gauntlet.

Rocket turns over the severed hand, and it’s empty.

“Where are they?” you ask Thanos.

Carol tightens her grip. “You heard her. Answer the question.”

“The universe required correction. After that, the stones served no purpose… beyond temptation.”

“You murdered trillions!” Bruce yells, shoving him back.

“You should be grateful.”

Natasha speaks when you can’t. “Where are the stones?”

Thanos gasps from where he’s been punched to the floor. “Gone. Reduced to atoms.”

“You used them two days ago!”

“I used the stones to destroy the stones. It nearly killed me.”

You laugh. “You’re gonna wish it had.” You tuck the scythe into the holder in your back and kick Thanos further into the hut.

There’s so many things you could do. You’ve inflicted horrific tortures on people, and this one is the most deserving. You could grow new bones, you could puncture his lungs or rip apart his organs. You could-

“(Y/N)?” Bruce asks. He moves the suit in front of you, but the look in your eyes will haunt him for years. He hasn’t known you long, but the violence you’re about to inflict scares him.

“Move.” When you go to step around, Rhodey and Nat pull you back. “Let me go!” you shout. Carol charges up her powers, but you shove them all away with a harmless wave of light.

“I am inevitable,” Thanos says. You smirk, cold and unfamiliar.

“So am I.”

You don’t even know what you’ve done until you sink the blade down the middle of his skull.

The body is covered in deep cuts and burns, boiling across the skin and melting the muscles and organs that are visible.

There’s blood. There’s so much blood.

As you step back, Thor takes the head off the corpse in one swing of his ax. The two of you start walking out, intent on leaving and never looking back. The god had promised to drop you off at an old safehouse before disappearing. He was as broken as you were now.

“What did you do?” Rocket whispers in horror. You pause, swallowing down the mix of guilt, regret, and so much grief.

“I avenged.”

#marvel #marvel x reader #x reader #avengers #avengers x reader #steve rogers #bucky barnes #like the dawn #steve rogers x fem!reader #steve rogers x winged!reader #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader angst #steve rogers x reader angst #captain america x reader #infinity war x reader #avengers: infinity war #infinity war #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x reader angst #bucky barnes x winged!reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve x bucky x reader #steve rogers x bucky barnes #stucky x winged!reader #stucky x reader fluff #stucky x reader angst

[jae-bummer]

My Idol 3: Part Eleven

My Idol from Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

My Idol is a South Korean competitive reality dating game show. It currently airs on Saturday nights on Jae-bummer’s blog. First broadcast in 2016, the show offers the opportunity for a lucky fan to go on seven blind dates with seven idols. The idol plans the date with the show throwing in a specific mission to complete during the day. At the end of the initial dates, the show opens up an audience vote to decide what four idols will move on to the second date.

My Idol 3: The Series

.

(**TW: Conversations involving child abuse)

Coming to a halt in front of the hotel, Hyungwon turned off his motorcycle and pulled at his helmet. Sliding off the bike, he fluffed his hair with his free hand and settled his eyes on you. He smiled to himself as he set down his gear and began to fiddle with the strap secured under your chin. Easing it gently from your head, it wasn't until you had it off that you realized how close the two of you were.

Smiling shyly at each other, you turned to dangle both of your legs over the side of the cycle. He leaned forward, placing either hand on the padded seat beside your thighs. Excruciatingly close now, his eyes shook back and forth between yours. "How do you feel?"

"Exhilarated," you breathed. "Mildly terrified, maybe a little dizzy?"

"A little?" he smirked.

"But that may not be the bike's fault," you murmured, focusing on his mouth.

Noticing where your eyes were lingering, Hyungwon bit softly on his lower lip before lifting a brow. "Then who's to blame?"

The moment was so quiet and intimate between the two of you, that it should have been illegal. When you had almost kissed Jackson, you felt like the whole world was watching. This, on the other hand, felt completely different.

Your jaw dropped as Hyungwon stuck his tongue out of the corner of his mouth and licked his top lip. You knew your eyes had to be the size of saucers. Glancing from your mouth and up to your widening pupils, Hyungwon's face contorted. Fighting off a laugh, he took a step backward before erupting into giggles.

"What?" you gasped, furrowing your brow.

"I can't," he laughed. "I feel so awkward when I try to be sexy. I am so sorry."

"Hyungwon!" you chuckled, choosing to laugh along with the mess of a man in front of you. "No one was asking you to be sexy! I assumed you just were!"

"I'm good looking, Y/N," he hiccuped. "That doesn't mean I know how to be seductive."

"You were doing quite well," you acknowledged, hopping from the bike.

"I'll remember-" he began, but both of you were caught off guard by a projectile headed your way.

"What the hell?" Hyungwon grumbled, glancing over his shoulder. You leaned forward as well, trying to get a better view, but it took you a moment to register what you were looking at. In the middle of the pavement sat a broken egg.

"Where?" you muttered, looking around to the PD's.

"Y/N, get down!" Insu instructed, coming out of nowhere. Just as his body had sprung into motion, another egg flew through the air and hit Hyungwon on the back of the leg.

"Yah!" he shouted, spinning around to face the production crew. Getting on his tip toes he eyed the crowd of My Idol fans at the barrier across the street. "Who is doing that?"

Stepping in front of you and Hyungwon, Insu faced the growing crowd of spectators. His eyes darted to each person, quickly trying to isolate the threat.

"Ugh!" you gasped, just as something hard hit your collarbone. Taking a step back, you grabbed at your chest, coming away with a hand full of egg.

"Oh my God," Hyungwon inhaled, pinching his nose. "The smell."

You knew what he was talking about before he even said it. While the eggs that hit near Hyungwon seemed perfectly normal, the ones that were targeting you were rotten.

"I think I'm going to be sick," you groaned, flinging your hand away from yourself to get the goo off your hand.

"Get inside," Insu instructed, spinning you around and shoving you toward the hotel entrance. Yanking on Hyungwon's hoodie sleeve, he pulled him along as well.

Keeping watch over his shoulder, your bodyguard let out a cry just before another egg slammed into you. This one hit the top of your scalp and immediately made the smell ten times worse.

"Can I get some cover?" Insu yelled as he motioned to the other My Idol crew. Admittedly, it was hard for him to protect both you and your date, especially when he had no idea where the attack was coming from.

Hyungwon wrapped his arm tightly around your waist, guiding you toward the revolving doors. He was keeping a brave face, but you could easily see that he was trying to fight off a gag.

Finally making it into the lobby, you breathed a sigh of relief. Pausing just beyond the doors, you were surprised as Insu slammed into the two of you, this time followed by Hyuk.

"Take him to his room," Insu instructed the older guard. "I've got Y/N."

Nodding, Hyuk grabbed Hyungwon's bicep and yanked him away from you. Looking helplessly from you to the stranger beside him, he let out a small whimper of surprise before being ushered away.

"We're inside now," you groaned, wanting so badly to rub at the sore spot on your head. "Can you take it down a notch?"

"I won't feel safe until I get you up to your room," Insu said, his head constantly on a swivel. He continued to push you toward the set of elevators. Looking around as well, you could see the expressions of alarm on the hotel staffs' faces.

"Who was that?" you managed, allowing Insu to control your forward motion.

"No idea," he muttered, easing you into the elevator and stabbing at the buttons. "Extra security is sweeping the area right now."

"Why weren't they helping you?" you asked softly, noting how frustrated he looked.

Turning his face toward yours, his features immediately softened. "Mismanaged plans and wrong placing," he muttered, reaching up to smooth down an un-egged piece of hair. "It won't happen again."

Nodding numbly, you found yourself leaning into his side. Without acknowledging what you were doing, Insu hooked his arm around your shoulders and pushed you even further into his torso. It was warm here. It was safe.

"Come on," he said gently, urging you off of the elevator and into the corridor. You felt like your brain had entered a complete fog. Every ounce of exhaustion you had been fighting off for weeks was choosing this very moment to circulate through your body.

Insu walked you to your door and tapped the key card against the lock. As the lock sprung free, you tried to separate yourself from him, but he held firm.

"Insu, I can-" you started, but he silenced you with a look.

"We need to get the egg out of your hair."

"I have every intention of taking a shower," you chuckled, trying to see if that would get him to crack a smile.

"Do you plan on taking a cold shower?" he asked, lifting his brows.

"Well, no," you muttered. "I want to scrub the day off. Why would I wash in cold water?"

"If you take a hot shower, you're going to cook the egg in your hair," he sighed, finally pushing you into the room. "And then it'll be impossible to get out."

"That's a thing?" you gasped, completely horrified.

"Unfortunately," he grumbled, releasing you. Looking around, he grabbed hold of the chair near your desk and began dragging it across the room.

"What-What are you doing?" you croaked as he halted in front of the bathroom sink.

"Unless you plan on trying to wash the rotten egg out of your own hair," he sighed. "I was going to do you a favor and help."

"Right," you chirped, trying to handle everything that had transpired in the last ten minutes. Following the timeline, you had first been about to kiss Hyungwon when he had gotten shy. Then My Idol "fans" started throwing eggs at you. The eggs that hit you were rotten. Insu got you inside and was now offering to wash your hair.

This wasn't real life. This was a bad dream, and you were going to wake up at any moment.

Pinching yourself, you let out a small groan. Nope, you were awake.

Looking up at Insu, you tried to blink back tears, but it was almost an instant failure. He furrowed his brow, taking a cautious step toward you before you finally exploded in sobs.

"Hey!" he cooed, crossing the distance and taking you into his arms. Tucking your face into his chest, he held you tightly.

"Noooo," you wailed, trying to push him away. "You're going to get egg smell on your suit!"

"I don't give two shits about egg smell, Y/N," he grumbled, holding you even tighter. "I care about you. I know this is so much for one day."

"This is so much for one month!" you gasped. "I feel like I'm stuck in a nightmare loop."

"I know," he sighed, rubbing your back. "I know."

After about five minutes of grasping tightly at his sports coat and snotting against the scratchy fabric, you finally sniffled and took a step back. "I feel like I'm not even living life, but life is happening to me."

Insu nodded, not even bothering to look at the various tear and egg goop stains painting his jacket and tie. "I can see why you would say that."

"What am I supposed to do?" you hiccupped and unceremoniously wiped your nose.

"I may not be the best at giving advice," he sighed. "But let's take this one step at a time. First, I think you'll feel better without garbage in your hair."

Nodding sulkily, you shuffled toward the bathroom. Grabbing your shampoo from the shower, you tossed it onto the counter before sitting in the chair Insu had designated for you. During that time, he had shed his jacket and began rolling up the arms of his dress shirt.

You leaned back against the counter and shivered at the cold touch of tile. Almost instantly, you felt him lift your head and set a towel down to soften where your neck was resting.

He turned the sink on and began methodically rinsing through your hair, first with just his fingers, then adding in various amounts of shampoo and conditioner. He spent several minutes working in silence before he cleared his throat. "There was a time in my life when I thought I was living in a nightmare too."

Caught off guard, you opened your eyes. You had been focused on how wonderful his hands felt in your hair, but this was much more important. Afraid of startling him out of the confession, you murmured a quiet, "Oh?"

"Growing up," he continued. "My father was a complicated man."

You waited, knowing any encouragement you gave to continue wouldn't actually get him to finish his thought. He had to decide to tell you on his own.

"It was just him, my mom, and me. He had made the military his career and it...did things to him mentally that I'm not sure I'll ever understand. Not using that as an excuse, but I can see why his coping skills were so broken.

I don't remember a lot of it. My therapist says I'm trying to protect myself by blocking out the trauma, but some of my earliest memories are of him getting angry. Angry with me, angry with mom. It didn't take long for him to start hitting us."

"Insu," you cautioned, glancing up at him. You hoped in that one look you conveyed that he didn't have to do this.

Chewing on his lip, his eyes darted towards yours and away again. "As I got older, I started to fight back. I wanted to protect my mom. One night he got really drunk...came home...started shoving her around. I got in the middle...and "fell" on his broken beer bottle."

The scar on his face...

"After my mom took me to the hospital, she decided it was time to get out. We left our home in the middle of the night and went to live with my grandparents. Luckily, we never heard from him again. I actually found out he died a few years ago.

That's why I joined military so soon. I wanted to get it out of the way and was terrified I would follow in his footsteps. When the mandatory part of service was over, I wanted to go into something that spoke to me. That's why I'm here."

You didn't know how to respond.

"All of that is to say," he continued. "I thought my life was happening to me. I felt stuck. I kept having to pick myself up again and again. It was so tiring, but it was worth it. It's worth it to see the other side."

"My issues seem so trivial now," you whispered, shaking your head.

"I didn't say what I did to make your problems seem smaller," he rushed out. "Everything is relative, and My Idol has not done you any favors."

"But-"

"Nope," he said finitely, rinsing out your hair for what had to have been the tenth time. "I want to show you that it gets better, no matter how lost you feel."

You nodded, trying to reconcile your life along Insu's. He was right, things were relative. You didn't tell the person with a broken arm that they're lucky they're not in a full body cast. You commiserated with how much pain they were in.

"I also wanted to say," he said a bit more quietly. "That I'm sorry."

"Insu," you croaked, looking toward him again. "What on earth do you have to be sorry for?"

"Not being better," he whispered. For a moment, you thought you saw a hint of sadness behind his eyes. "If...if it had been something more serious than an egg-"

Sitting up, you ignored his clucks of alarm. You let your soaked hair run down your clothing and the carpet around you. "But it wasn't."

"If it had been-"

"It wasn't," you said sternly. "I will not have you thinking like that."

"Not thinking like that can get you killed!" he nearly shouted, emotion taking hold. You saw his eyes begin to tear. "And for what? Some contest? Your life is more important than all of this."

Shaking your head, you stood and apprised the man before you. He was endlessly strong, both physically and mentally. You never expected this to come out of him, but you supposed today had shook him up too.

Trying to hide the fact that he was crying, Insu sniffed moodily and looked everywhere but at you. Moving to stand in front of him, you tilted your head to the side, and waited.

"What?" he whimpered. "I'm fine. Everything is fine."

"It's not," you said, shaking your head. "But that's okay."

.

When you woke up the next morning, you felt like you had been hit by a truck. After Insu's breakdown, you held each other for a what seemed like hours before finally conceding and toweling out your hair. He made sure you were all settled before finally leaving your room and seeking out Hyuk to debrief about what had happened.

You knew they would come up with a plan that was even better than what was in place before, but you were terrified. How much worse could it get?

Emotionally, you felt like a wrung-out wash towel. It was hard to even think about having a date today, let alone facing Insu after the tender moment you had shared.

Getting out of bed was a struggle, but you finally did it when the time came. Hyuk brought you to the stylists and they began the work of covering up you're growing dark circles. From the outside, the Korean entertainment industry looked so seamless and fun. Now that you were on the inside, you felt almost empty inside.

Returning you to your room, Hyuk let you know he'd be back soon to debrief you on the new security plans. Nodding, you shuffled back toward your bed like a zombie. You had to snap out of it, for yourself and whichever idol would be showing up next.

It was difficult. Just as you felt like you could start letting your guard down, something new and awful would happen. Was this going to be your future should you choose to settle down with a celebrity?

A light knock sounded on your door much sooner than you had expected. It wasn't the usual three-patterned knock that Hyuk and Insu used, so you were on guard.

"Hello?" you called through the door, trying to look out of the peephole. Stretching on the tips of your toes, you moved your face around until you could finally see a figure standing there.

"Delivery," a relatively familiar, Australian voice chimed.

You widened your eyes, not at all expecting for this particular musician to show up in the competition.

Pulling open the door, you openly gaped.

"Hi," he grinned, his smile like a beacon calling you safely to shore. You smiled as well, totally lost in his enthusiasm. "I'm Stray Kid's Bang Chan."

Looking around, you didn't notice the normal camera crew, but only a new security guard who stood closely behind Chan.

"I know we're not supposed to meet until the date begins," he said quietly. "But I wanted to give you something while we weren't on camera."

"How did you-"

"Jungkook knew your room number," Chan smiled. "Sorry if that makes us sound like a bunch of creeps."

You laughed in surprise.

Chan's smile turned cautious as he moved his arms from resting behind his back and held out a small bag toward you. Looking closely, you noticed it was a goldfish.

"I hope I'm not overstepping," he hummed. "I know nothing will ever replace Jinki, but I think this guy can bring a little comfort for now."

Your throat struggled not to choke up. Insu was right. The hard days were worth it for moments like this.

#bang chan #christopher bang #stray kids #skz #bahng chahn #bahng christopher chahn #stray kids x reader #my idol 3 #my idol 3 season 3 #hyungwon #monsta x

[berkmansimagines]

it's time to go

A/N: Well this is it - my last fic! Just wanted to say this hitman wife series was so fun to write and thank you for reading ❤️

Summary: You and Barry try quitting your jobs, but find it easier said than done.

Pairing: Barry Berkman x hitman!wife reader

tw: violence against pregnant person

SMACK

You are woken up by a punch to the face. You open your eyes to take a look at your surroundings. You’re sitting in a chair in the middle of a warehouse. Your hands are tied behind your back. 

It isn’t the first time you’ve woken up in this type of predicament, but you pray that it's the last. You used to be a hitman. This type of shit was par for the course. But that part of your life is over now. You’re 18 weeks pregnant with a little girl. You and Barry quit your jobs after finding out you were having a baby. Neither of you wanted your child to grow up in that violent world, you were trying to keep your family safe. All you want is for you and Barry to have a fresh start with your baby daughter. You’re done with the hitman life, unfortunately it's not done with you… 

You’ve had old work contacts reach out to you about jobs and you refused them all. One of those contacts was a powerful crime boss named Roman. He wanted to meet with you about a job but you ignored his requests. Roman doesn’t take kindly to people turning him down. He felt slighted and took it personally. So Roman sent out one of his goons, Victor, to bring you to him.

Victor took you while Barry was driving you home from a doctor’s appointment. The goon crashed into Barry’s car and then pulled a gun on the two of you. You went with Victor so the confrontation wouldn’t turn violent. The last thing you remember is struggling in Victor’s arms while he jabbed you with a needle. He gave you a sedative that knocked you out. And that’s how you ended up here.

You suddenly feel someone roughly grab your chin. You look up and see Victor standing over you. 

“Yo Boss! Y/N is up!” Victor shouts.

Victor’s boss, Roman, confidently saunters in. You always thought that he was a smarmy asshole. It looks like not much has changed.

“Ah there she is!” Roman claps his hands together, “I’m so happy you could make it!”

You roll your eyes. The only reason you’re here is because you didn’t want Roman’s goon to shoot your husband.

“I didn’t have much choice in the matter,” you unenthusiastically.

“How have you been?” Roman asks as if he’s catching up with an old friend.

“Well, I’d be a lot better if I wasn’t tied to this chair right now. Can you help a girl out?” you try.

Roman laughs and circles behind you. He rubs his hands against your shoulders. You do your best not to flinch at his touch.

“No, I can’t do that! I don’t want you to try to run off before I tell you about your next job.”

You sigh impatiently. You’re not interested in hearing about this job at all. 

Meanwhile, Barry has just arrived at the warehouse. Barry had been tailing Victor’s car ever since he took you. The goon warned Barry not to follow but that didn’t stop your husband.

Barry is outside, trying to figure out a way in. The front entrance of the warehouse is a large metal sliding door. It’s mostly closed except for a tiny crack. 

Barry puts his eye up to the small opening in the door so he can take a look inside the warehouse. He sees you tied to a chair. You’re surrounded by the goon that kidnapped you and another man. Barry assumes it’s that crime boss Roman. 

Your husband tries to quietly open the sliding door so he can sneak in. But it’s stuck. The door won’t budge. 

“Fuck,” Barry curses to himself.

He won’t be able to get in this way. He needs to figure something else out.

Barry looks inside the warehouse once again. He can see you and hear a little bit from afar, but he doesn’t have a clear shot of either of the men. Barry doesn’t want to risk it because you’re there too. While trying to figure out his next move, Barry listens in on your conversation.

“I’ll cut right to the chase. I recently found out that my driver has started talking to a headshrinker. He knows too much. I can’t have him blabbing about me to some shrink. He has to go. And I need you to kill him,” Roman tells you.

You shake your head.

“I don't kill people anymore. I’m retired and making a fresh start.”

Roman snickers. He roughly grabs your hair and runs his fingers through it. Then he moves his hand down your face caressing your cheek.

“Awww, isn’t that nice? It’s cute you think you can just walk away but you’re gonna have to have to un-retire because you owe me. The only reason I’m stuck with this driver in the first place is because of what you did to the last one. Sal was my best driver before you crippled him.”

You smirk to yourself. Oh yeah, I did do that! It was a long time ago, before you even met Barry. You were a different person back then...

“Yeah well, he deserved it man. Sal’s a fucking bitch,” you shrug nonchalantly, “Also that was like 4 years ago! I think you all just need to really get over that.”

“He still walks funny,” Roman replies.

“He always walked funny! Me breaking his legs didn’t change that,” you argue.

SLAP

Roman abruptly backhands you hard across the face. It was so fast you didn’t even see it coming. 

“Ahhh,” you wince.

Your cheek stings like hell but you grit your teeth and fight through the pain.

Barry watches this all go down from outside the warehouse. He turns red after Roman hits you. Your husband is furious. 

Barry hastily tries opening the sliding door again. This time with a lot more force. It still won’t budge. After one last failed attempt, he decides to go around the building to try to find another way in.

CREAK

You, Roman and Victor all turn your attention to the front entrance. The big metal sliding door looks slightly ajar. Your eyes widen.

“Barry,” you mutter to yourself.

Roman scoffs.

“Victor, go check it out,” Roman orders his goon.

Victor pulls his gun out and cautiously approaches the front entrance. He slides open the metal door and looks around outside.

“Nobody’s here,” Victor announces.

The goon puts his gun away and slides the metal door shut.

“Looks like no one is coming for you after all,” Roman coolly tells you.

You shrug. You still believe that Barry is around here somewhere… 

“This is so stupid! Why don’t you just get Victor to do the job? He’s like your little lap dog, he’ll do anything you say,” you challenge Roman.

Roman grabs onto your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“Victor works too closely with the driver already. He’d be a top suspect. No, this needs to be done by someone on the outside. It has to be you,” Roman counters.

“I can’t do the hit…I won’t. I don’t do that anymore,” you say quietly.

Roman chuckles and shakes his head. He goes down to your level, rests his hands on your lap. He’s getting uncomfortably close to you.

“Bullshit! Killing is all you can do. When you started you closed the door on doing anything else. You’ll never be able to leave this life behind, no matter how hard you try.”

His words cut like glass. Before you even have a chance to respond, Roman sees something peek out from your coat pocket.

“What’s that?!” Roman questions as he reaches inside your pocket. 

Oh fuck! Earlier today while Barry was driving you home, you had slipped one of the pictures of the sonogram into your coat pocket. You did it because you always wanted to have a picture of your daughter with you. You feel like an idiot now... 

Your eyes widen as you watch Roman pull the sonogram out of your pocket.

“Is this what I think it is?”

Your heart skips a beat. Roman holds up the sonogram to Victor.

“Looks like Y/N is expecting!” Roman announces.

Victor looks you up and down, eyeing your baby bump.

“I thought you were just eating your feelings,” the goon snickers.

You give Victor the stink eye. He’s such a fucking asshole.

Roman leans in even closer to you. He puts his hands on your stomach. You anxiously shuffle in your seat.

“Is this why you quit? This is the reason you want a fresh start?” Roman questions you.

You take a deep breath and slowly nod your head.

“I’m not doing the hit and you can’t make me. You need to find someone else to do the job,” you tell him.

“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” Roman sneers.

Roman steps back and nods to Victor. The goon pulls a knife out of his pocket. Your body tenses up as Victor approaches you. 

When Victor steps up, he lightly traces the knife down your face. If he applied any more pressure it would cut your skin. You’re nervously holding your breath.

Victor slowly runs his knife down your neck, chest and ribcage. He stops when he reaches your stomach, resting the knife on your baby bump. 

“If you can’t do the job because you’re having a baby then I will cut it out with a paring knife,” the goon threatens.

You shake your head in disbelief.

“You’ve always been a sadistic bastard but that’s really fucked up…even for you,” you say in a low, serious voice.

Victor snickers and then grazes your stomach with his knife. He’s applying more pressure this time - enough to cut your skin. You immediately start screaming.

“NO! NO! STOP IT!” you shriek at the top of your lungs.

You’re not screaming in pain. It’s fear. You had already miscarried once because of your job. You don’t want that to happen again.

While Victor antagonizes you, Barry finally finds another entrance to the warehouse. The place is a lot bigger than Barry had anticipated. He got in through one of the backrooms.

The first thing that Barry hears when entering the warehouse is you screaming in the faint distance. 

No, no, no, no, no!

Your husband races towards the noise.

“PLEASE STOP! I’LL DO THE JOB! I’LL DO ANYTHING! PLEASE JUST STOP!” you beg.

“Alright, Victor, that’ll do,” Roman announces.

Victor stops cutting your stomach and backs away. You’re on the verge of tears, trying to catch your breath. That was one of the scariest moments of your entire life.

Roman approaches you. He brushes some hair out of your face. You flinch.

“This job needs to be done by the end of the day. I’ll text you the address. Call me when the hit is done,” Roman orders, and then, “Do you understand?” 

You don’t say anything. After a moment of silence, Roman grabs your hair and moves your head up and down in a nodding motion.

“Yes Roman,” he answers for you.

Roman lets go of your hair and pats your cheek one more time. Then he nods to Victor.

“Cut her loose. She has a job to do.”

Roman drops the picture of your sonogram on the floor right in front of you. He walks away. As he leaves, he claps his hands and excitedly spins around.

“And as always, Y/N, it was great catching up!” the crime boss cackles before disappearing into one of the warehouse’s back rooms.

Victor uses the same knife he cut your stomach with to cut your binds. He leans in uncomfortably close to your ear.

“You better not be lying about doing the hit,” the goon warns. He sounds skeptical.

You gulp, slowly nodding your head.

“Because if you don’t finish the job, I’m coming back for you,” Victor threatens you.

Victor steps away from you when he finishes untying you. As soon as your hands are free, you check your baby bump. You have a small flesh wound. It’s bleeding a little bit but it doesn’t look too bad. You think the baby is okay.

You stand to your feet, rubbing your wrists to get some circulation back. You pick up the picture of the sonogram that Roman dropped on the floor and safely tuck it away back in your pocket. 

BANG

That sounded like a gunshot coming from one of the back rooms. 

“What the fuck was that?!” Victor asks.

You intuitively know that it’s your husband. 

You and Victor hear footsteps coming closer. Victor pulls out his gun once again and raises it, ready to shoot whoever walks through the door. Your eyes widen. You can’t let Barry walk into a trap. You need to stop Victor. 

You impulsively grab the chair you were just tied to and make a run towards Victor.

“NOOOO!” you yelp.

WHAM

You bash Victor’s back with the chair at full force. He falls to the floor, dropping his gun in the process. You eye the gun as it slides a few feet away. You make a move for it .

“FUCK! You bitch!” Victor growls. 

Victor suddenly realizes that his gun is no longer in his hand. You watch as he frantically looks for it on the floor.

“Where the fuck is my it?!” 

You cock the gun and point it at Victor.

“Right here, asshole,” you say through gritted teeth.

Victor snickers and rises to his feet.

“You’re not going to do anything. You just said yourself that you aren’t a killer any-” 

BANG, BANG

You shoot Victor in the head and chest. He’s dead before he hits the ground. 

“Starting now…” you breathe, dropping the gun to the floor.

“Y/N!”

You turn around to see Barry rushing towards you. You take a couple of steps to meet him. 

“Are you okay?!”

Barry examines the cuts and bruises on your face. He looks you up and down, noticing some blood on your stomach. His eyes widen. You lift up your shirt to show him the flesh wound on your stomach.

“I…I think I’m okay… He didn’t cut too deep…”

Barry lets out a sigh of relief and pulls you into a hug. You close your eyes and relax in your husband’s arms. You feel safe.

“I’m so sorry. I should’ve gotten here sooner. I shouldn’t have let that guy take you...” Barry apologizes.

You pull away from the hug, but keep each other close.

“It’s not your fault,” you quietly reply, and then, “Do you really think we can get out of this?”

Barry scrunches his forehead, confused.

“What do you mean?” he asks.

You take a deep breath, shaking your head.

“Roman was trying to get me to do a job. When I told him I quit, he said that killing is all I can do and I’ll never be able to leave this life behind. I don’t know… I guess I’m just afraid there’s some truth to it…”

Barry looks at you with concern. He lightly rubs your arms, attempting. to calm you down.

“That guy was full of shit. He doesn’t know you… You should be able to be the person that you say you are. You’re not a killer, you’re gonna be a mom,” Barry tries.

You sigh and look down at your feet. You’re taking in what Barry just said. Maybe he’s right. You’ve spent so much of your life letting other people tell you what you are, it’s how you became a hitman in the first place… But you don’t want to do that anymore. You deserve the chance to start over and be able to define who you are for yourself.

You slowly nod your head and pull Barry into another hug. You don’t say anything, but you don’t have to. Barry knows that you took what he said to heart.

After a beat, Barry pulls away.

“We should get outta here before anyone else shows up,” your husband says with a quiet urgency in his voice.

Barry grabs the gun you used to kill Victor. The weapon has your fingerprints all over it. Barry will dispose of it later.

He takes your hand.

“C’mon, it’s time to go…”

--

That's all folks! Thank you and good night!

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