#Ch.1 An Emergency Call | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

celestie0 · 7 months

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gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.7 to lose someone you love

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem reader, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, mentions of weed, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot

ᰔ chapter. 7/x (probably 12)

ᰔ words. 8.5k

a/n. sighhh i'm rly sorry for the wait. and thank you sooo much to the love for the last chapter omg :') this chapter is gojo pov and it's a bit different than the rest, but i still hope you enjoy and that it was worth the wait. if there are typos, they're not typos they're actually 100% intentional and you are the silly one

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When Gojo was just four years old, he called for the paramedics for the very first time.

He had wandered around the house, wide and innocent blue eyes searching the room for the landline in the dim light of the evening, his lip quivering in a pout. His small arm reached up to pet around at the top of his parents’ dresser before his fingers wrapped around the phone. He couldn’t remember what the number was at first, the one his mother always told him to call in case of an emergency, but he remembered he scribbled it down somewhere with red crayon in one of his coloring books. By the time Gojo first realized he needed to call for help, located the landline, looked through all of his little portraits of dinosaurs and spaceships sprawled across the carpet of his room, found those three numbers, and then finally dialed them, his father had already been seizing and shaking on the bathroom floor for longer than twenty-four minutes.

He was just a child. It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t know any better.

Gojo spent the remainder of that night hugging his mom in the hospital’s emergency room, his tears soaking through her shirt as she gently rocked him back and forth in her lap while whispering soothing words in his ear. His father lay motionless on the hospital bed before them, eyes shut, and Gojo will never forget the haunting sounds of the machinery that was keeping his father alive. It was a sudden onset seizure, likely stemming from the traumatic brain injury his father had suffered a few years ago, and the prolonged convulsions he experienced on the bathroom floor that night had resulted in severe brain damage. Gojo could still hear the echo of his mother’s silent cry when the doctors informed them that it’s unlikely his father would ever fully recover from this.

No reasonable adult would ever look a four-year-old in the eyes and say if you had called for help sooner or knew what to do, maybe your father would’ve still had the chance to live a long life. Yet, even at his young age, Gojo was aware of the energy in the room, and that explanation was the only truth his mind could grasp onto to make sense of what he had just witnessed.

After two weeks of clinging to life, his father miraculously woke up from his coma and persevered for the sake of his wife and son. Shortly after the incident, he began to have recurring seizures but fought through them each time. Without fail, he made Gojo breakfast in the mornings, even if it meant having to clean up the spilt orange juice on the counter every now and then because of how his hands could not stop trembling. He always walked Gojo to the bus stop, waving him goodbye, despite how troublesome and embarrassing he found it to use his cane. The love he had for his son was so palpable that it eclipsed the bitterness over how his life had ended up because of the blessing it had brought him.

In his prime, Gojo’s father was a renowned soccer player, so incredibly talented at the sport that he left a lasting mark on the way teams strategized, his presence on the field commanding respect, and he was one of the greatest talents the entire college division had ever seen.

He met Gojo’s mother at one of his freshman year games, a pretty lady in the stands that caught his eye from the sight of her laughter among her friends, her radiance drawing him to her from the field, and that’s how their love began. Exactly one year following that day, he stole one of his grandmother’s thrifted rings from her jewelry collection and that was what he used to propose. Gojo’s mother had accepted it with so many tears and so much snot running down her face, and he had never found her more beautiful. They married young and sweet, like most people back then.

During the thrilling semifinal match between Keio Uni, Gojo’s father’s team, and Yokohama Uni during the end of his senior year, spectators witnessed a game that most college soccer enthusiasts would deem was a once-in-a-lifetime watch. Both teams engaged in relentless offense, and Gojo’s father was on his way to shatter the record of the most goals scored in a single championship match within the history of the league, but when he received a call from his wife during a timeout with the most life-altering news he could have ever heard, he abandoned everything on the field that day to go home and be with her. Grainy footage from the televised broadcast still exists online today—the moment he sprinted across the field, confused players glancing in his direction, amidst the uproar of the crowd. She called to let him know she was pregnant.

No one knew that would be the last game of soccer he would ever play.

It was a freak accident, a distracted driver behind the wheel of a gray Chevy on a dark and rainy night, veered straight towards Gojo’s parents car to avoid a branch on the road. In a moment that could only be described as his instinct to protect, he quickly swerved his vehicle, taking the brunt of the impact on his side. His family surrounded him at his hospital bedside as they grappled with the news that he would be unable to play the sport ever again due to his traumatic brain injury that would lead to lifelong motor function loss. According to the doctors and police, had he not swerved to shield his wife and unborn child, the outcome would have been far more disastrous. After months of rehabilitation, he regained enough ability to walk and just enough function in his extremities to welcome his newborn son in his arms.

When Gojo was just six years old, two years after witnessing his father’s first seizure, he stumbled upon a dusty, forgotten soccer ball tucked away in the corner of the garage. When he eagerly presented it to his father, excitement gleaming in his eyes, he was only met with a scowl and the demand to discard it, to never bring such things like that to him ever again. His mother protested, ensuing in an argument, and as Gojo lowered his gaze to the ball in his hands, he noticed his father’s faded signature adorned with a heart and message of love for his mother. The ink, once vibrant, now faded with time.

It wasn’t until Gojo turned seven that his father finally relented to teach him more about the sport, knowing it was all his son wanted for his birthday. With determination in his heart, Gojo pleaded for his father’s guidance, eager to kick around a nearly deflated, weathered ball. His father watched his son, expression morphing from reserved and stoic, softening to surprise, then hopeful, and he found himself cheering on his son’s clumsy endeavors on the field despite how many times he tumbled and fell. Because that was his son, his pride and joy, reminiscent of him embracing the sport that he himself had cherished so many years ago.

As Gojo grew older and excelled at the sport, securing victory after victory in every youth league, his father’s health steadily declined. The recurring seizures caused by the brain damage from his prolonged convulsions on that fateful night exacerbated over the years and started to take an increasing toll on his body. Yet still, he never missed even a single one of his son’s games. Whenever Gojo swiftly sent the ball flying through the net, the first person his eyes would search for on the field was his father, the joy in his eyes being all he cared about in the world. Gojo lived to make his father proud, because it was the only thing that made him feel like he could make up for what little he had done to protect his father that night.

You were just a child. It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t know any better.

The day following Gojo’s eleventh birthday, his father had his second major seizure, falling into another coma, but this time he never woke up. Two years later, his mother made the tough decision to end his life-support, and then he was gone from their lives. Gojo’s mother was inconsolable, and he knew that his father took a piece of her soul with him to heaven that night. The piece that allowed her to smile.

one day, you’ll lose someone you love. and everything following will fail to have meaning.

But why was he remembering all of that now?

The shrill of Gojo’s alarm clock woke him up from the intrusive memories that were washing through the fore-front of his mind, and he grumbled to himself before whacking at his nightstand haphazardly to shut the thing off. He ran a hand across his face in an attempt to wipe the sleepiness away, features instantly settling into an annoyed scowl as he blinked his eyes open and the filtering sunlight through the windows harassed his vision.

He laid there for a few seconds, mending to the pounding headache at his temples with his fingers rubbing circles, and then he finally sat up in bed. Blinking at his sheets, the images of last night start to flash through his mind. The heavy music, the dim lighting of the bathroom, the dizzying jealousy, and the taste of you on his tongue–

The memory is supposed to arouse him, and would on any normal day, but because you had left him standing there stunned with no release of his own at all, he instead just feels a pulsing, soul-deep throbbing pain at his crotch that could really only be due to the fact he was left high and dry by you last night. He groans at the sensation, palm pushing down on his lower abdomen to try and relax the torture, which barely helped. It’s either he jerks off or takes a cold shower, and given the former was likely not possible for him right now since his god-forsaken brain decided to push the traumatizing experiences of his childhood to the forefront of his headspace first thing in the morning, meaning it’s unlikely he’ll be able to settle into the memory of you bent over that bathroom counter for him, he decides on the cold shower. And it’s safe to say that today already fucking sucked.

The moment the chill water hits the skin of his body, he recollects the look you had on your face right before you walked out on him. Soft, searching, to him almost seraphic, but you also looked wounded. And something from your anger with him since before he even had you in that bathroom, to the agonizing moment you left him in there by himself, told him he’d messed up big time with you somewhere along the lines.

He knew he had been a jerk last night. He didn’t really have much of a right to be seethingly possessive of you, but the sight of you kissing another guy had him seeing red and his knuckles turning white. He finds himself clenching his jaw at the unwelcome memory even now. He figured he probably ruined what would’ve otherwise been an enjoyable night for you, and so you decided to get revenge by walking out on him. However, he can’t shake the feeling that things are messy and complicated now, primarily because of him, and he felt like he needed to apologize for dragging you into his weird, confusing emotions.

He gets himself dry and dressed, grateful for the barely sufficient relief he had down south, and sighs as he grabs his phone and taps on your name, thinking about what to say to you, and just settles on typing out Hey, can we talk? and then presses send. He turns the ringer of his phone off, tosses the device onto his bed and then heads out the door.

Geto was sitting on the couch in the loft, rubbing an ice cube across his forehead as he sprawled on the cushions and let out low and consistent groans to himself. Gojo flopped down on the armchair across from him and assumed a similar position, rubbing at his temples to nurse his own headache. Geto opens an eye to look at him.

“Morning,” he grumbles.

“I take it I’m not the only one that feels like they’ve been hit by a truck?” Gojo asks.

Geto makes a disgruntled noise and throws his head back on the cushion. “I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking. God knows how much I had last night.” He reaches over to the console table in the center for the bottle of Ibuprofen and tosses it to Gojo, who catches it and stares down at the label. “I didn’t really see you drink that much though. Don’t know why you’re hungover.”

Gojo sighs. He wasn’t hungover. His headache was from the fact that had a lot on his mind. Like the feeling of your skin last night. And then the pain of being blue-balled. And also for some reason his father’s death. Very exhausting to juggle those thoughts at once.

Gojo twists the cap off the bottle of Ibuprofen and pops two pills, drowning them in his mouth with Geto’s glass of water, then runs a frustrated hand through his hair. The man across from him raises an eyebrow.

“You good?” he asks.

“Super peachy,” Gojo replies.

He sighs. “Well, whatever it is, just make sure it doesn’t affect your play today,” Geto warns him, sinking further down into the couch. Gojo lets out an exhale through his nose. Geto usually pushed further for answers whenever he was in a mood, so the fact that he didn’t this time meant that hangover was bad.

“I’m more worried about you. You think you’ll be fine in a few hours?” Gojo asks. Geto just waves his hand in the air in response as he grabs the hand towel on his chest and drags it up over his face, shielding himself from the light of the room.

“I have no choice but to be fine. We have to win this game,” is all he says through muffling cloth.

Gojo nods, resting his elbows on his knees and looking down at the carpet. It was finally the game of the 28th, arguably the second-most important game of the season. If they take home the win, they’re automatically seeded into top sixteen teams, which means they’ll only have to win four more matches after today to take home the championship. But if they lose, they’re seeded to the bottom, and then four turns into a daunting eight. In the history of the league, not a single team has ever lost their pre-seed game and still continued to win the playoff championship. So Geto was right, they have no choice but to win today. Otherwise, they could kiss goodbye to a 12-year UTokyo championship streak.

“Not going for your run?” Geto asks, interrupting his thoughts.

“Nah, not feeling up for it,” Gojo replies.

He clicks his tongue. “Never skip the pre-game ritual, man.”

Gojo groans, knowing that he’s right, and so he reluctantly gets up off the chair and heads back into his room. His phone lay there on the bed, facing down, and he felt so tragically taunted by it that he weighed the options of whether or not he should check if you replied back before his run or after his run. And then he’s wondering why you affect him this much in the first place.

He resolves to check after his run, and only gets one arm through his shirt before his hands betray him and he snatches his phone, eagerly tapping the screen to turn it on.

He sees your name at the top, where you had just replied barely a minute ago. Sure, we can talk. He blinks at his phone when he sees the polite period at the end of your message, and the proper capitalization, not to mention a vocative comma? He was starting to feel really nervous.

He didn’t care that you had only replied a minute ago, he quickly typed out his response and sent it.

|| 10:35am Gojo: Do you know how to get onto the stadium field today?

He sees you typing, and he’s holding his breath.

|| 10:36am you: yes, I do. I’m going in w the newsletter journalists. Was this what you wanted to talk about?

What did he want to talk to you about exactly? Something like I’m sorry about being an ass last night, totally not cool for me to be that territorial over you, although I can’t say I wouldn’t do it again because seeing you kiss someone other than me kind of made me want to die. Also, I’m sorry for acting like you’re just someone I know, I don’t know why I did it. I guess it’s because I didn’t know if you thought of me as any more than just someone you know either, and that thought was frightening. Did I mention I hated seeing you kiss someone that wasn’t me?

He’s never really been good with words. Or feelings.

10:37am Gojo: No, it’s not, it’s something else. I’ll come find you on the field before the game starts

He stands there, gaze fixed on his phone screen for the minute-long pause you took to respond, that for him felt like tortured eons, just for you to send-

10:39am you: k

Gojo finishes getting dressed for his run, anxiety brewing in his stomach drearily, and when he heads out the door of the house, the fresh morning air doesn’t help calm him down like it usually does. Of course, as he’s running, his thoughts wander to you. He’s thinking about the smell of your hair–or was it the perfume on your skin?–either way, it was intoxicating. The curve of your neck, that spot that made you whimper– fuck. Think of other things. Like the sound of your voice, soft and sometimes needy, but he enjoys it that way–makes his head spin. Or when you’re being sweet and thanking him for something you shouldn’t, because to him everything about you was a privilege and never a task. Even in the hot spring sun of the late morning, he finds himself missing the warmth from your body, and that look. That goddamn look in your eyes when you’re peering into his like you want him to–

“I’m sure he’s really proud of you.”

His legs stop him on their own, like they know something about the feelings in his chest that he doesn’t, and he’s standing still on the sidewalk of the neighborhood now. Short puffs of air escape his lips from his blood pumping fast through his body, and he could physically hear the sound of you in his head. Intimate enough to where he turns to the side slightly facing his surroundings, like there was no way it was just a memory and you weren’t actually near. He finds himself swallowing hard and having to consciously keep moving forward.

Gojo makes it back to the house, freshens up for the second time today, and gets dressed into his UTokyo soccer uniform with his signature #10 jersey. He leaves with Geto to campus, where all his teammates gather before eventually boarding the bus to the UTokyo stadium field ten minutes away. Coach Yaga yells their ears off in the locker rooms in an attempt to get their plays for today through their brains, and the exhilarating noises from the stands as they make their formal entrance through to the field fills Gojo’s senses, along with the obnoxiously loud music playing as pre-game rituals settle in. Gojo sets his bag down on the bench and joins the others in warm-ups for about fifteen minutes, before catching a chance to sneak away and look for you across the expansive pristine grass.

After lightly jogging around the perimeter of the field for a couple of minutes, he finally spots you, his raised eyebrows now flattening under the fringe of his hair as he relaxes. He didn’t realize he was tensing his shoulders until now. You were just beyond the sidelines near a hydration station, fidgeting with something in your camera case, lips pressed together in a frustrated expression, and he saw your body sulk with the sigh you let out as you must’ve realized you had forgotten something. The corner of his mouth twitches upwards into a slight smile, an unconscious reaction to seeing you look so damn cute from your troubled face decorated with a pout. And then he remembered he had been looking for you, and he had found you, and the only thing to do next was to be near you.

He ambles up to you, and you only catch sight of him when he’s just a few feet away and finally standing in front of you. He sees your eyes widen slightly, lashes blinking once, twice, and then there’s a blush of color to your cheeks as you fidget with the stadium access badge hung around your neck. He noticed there were grass stains on your jeans over your knees when he looked down.

“Hey,” Gojo greets you over the loud music playing on the field.

“Hi,” he sees you say, and he realizes he can barely hear you.

“Let’s go over there,” Gojo yells, jerking his head over to the side.

He leads you over to an area tucked near the east side entrance, a corner slightly underneath one of the sectioned stands where the loud cheers of the stadium somehow reflected off less. It was about as private or silent of a place that the two of you could manage to have a conversation on a soccer field before a match, if you could just ignore the dressed up school mascots rehearsing their walk-ins and walk-outs through the entryway.

You take a few steps backwards until your back hits the concrete slab wall, and he’s in front of you as he watches you study him for a second, taking in the sight of his uniform, before your eyes finally meet his.

“Are you ready to take your photos today?” he asks you, poorly attempting to make small talk despite the images of you with him in that bathroom last night flashing through his memory. Now was seriously not the time to be turned on.

You nod, and respond “I am”, giving him absolutely nothing to work with.

He sighs. “Listen, about last night, I just wanted to apologize. For dragging you into that bathroom with me, although you did ask me to-” He sees you narrow your eyes and cross your arms across your chest. “Sorry,” he sighs, “Seriously, I just…I don’t know what got over me then.”

“You don’t know? Or you just don’t want to tell me?” you prod at him. He briefly considers pretending he doesn’t hear your question over the sound of the stadium, but he knows he wouldn't get away with that, not with the way you’re looking at him like he’s just one more fuck-up away from making you storm off.

He looks at your lips. “I guess the only thing I know is that I didn’t like seeing you kiss someone else.”

You shake your head and close your eyes. “I know you didn’t, Satoru. Otherwise last night wouldn’t have happened. What I’m asking is why.”

He’s struggling now, searching his head for answers, like he’s fighting for his life on a test that he didn’t study for. When he looks down, he notices your foot has been tapping impatiently. And when he looks back up, there’s that wounded expression from last night again. “I don’t know,” is all he can offer.

You uncross your arms from your chest, lips parting slightly as your eyebrows pinch upwards with a disheartened look. He sees your gaze shift slowly across the features of his face, searching, and he wonders if you can see something within him that he can’t. The thought terrifies him. “Fine. It’s my turn to speak.”

He nods slowly. He wasn’t sure what you wanted to say to him. He imagined you would just cuss him out with a few choice words for being a raging asshole last night and then you’d be on your merry way. But he senses sincerity in your voice. Not that he was phenomenal at reading people, though.

He watches as you clench and unclench your fists at your sides nervously, then twiddle with the strap of your camera, then tuck your hair behind your ears, then blink rapidly as you look up at him, then worry your bottom lip between your teeth, then open your mouth to speak just to close it again.

“Do you need me here for any of this?” he says in an attempt at a joke to ease you, but when all you give him is a glare, he’s fearful enough to be serious again.

“I like you.”

He blinks. “Thanks? I like you, too.”

“No, no. I like you as in I have feelings for you,” you clarify. Gojo’s eyes widen at the confession, and he stands up straighter.

“Oh,” he finally replies when he realizes he hasn’t said anything yet, “I…I wouldn’t have guessed that.” Holy shit, if that was how you felt, then he really has been a raging asshole this entire time.

You roll your eyes. “I know. You’re a hopelessly dense, menacingly flirty, sleazy frat dude college athlete,” you sigh, “But I still like you. Unfortunately, tragically, annoyingly, much to my dismay, against my better judgment,”

“Okay, I get it-”

“I think it started that night you stayed with me when I was stranded with my flat,” you confess suddenly, your chest rising a little bit faster, and his expression softened. “I just really appreciated you being there for me.”

His voice is gentle when he speaks next. “You don’t have to thank me for that. I would’ve been there if it happened ten times over,” he pauses, “although I’d seriously question your ability to drive if it happened that many times.”

“And I think it started when you walked me out to the practice field for the first time, and you told me you cared about my dreams,” you say with a slight step forwards to him, unable to acknowledge his words at all, as if there was a script you needed to stick to that was the only thing keeping you from falling apart in front of him.

He finds himself instinctively leaning towards you, close enough to where he notices you’re wearing a different perfume today. “But that was before the night of your car incident,” he reminds you.

“I know,” you nod, and there’s that look in your eyes that he loves, “and I also think it started that first night we met and you looked sad when I said we weren’t friends.”

Gojo’s eyes widen, his heart skipping a beat in his chest, and he finds himself breathing shallowly as he listens to your words. “y/n…I think you’re working backwards here.”

“I’m trying to say I’ve had feelings for you this whole time,” you say to him, “they were tiny at first, I didn’t really see them, but now they’re too big for me to hold all by myself.”

Gojo nods slowly, and he already knows what you’re going to ask of him next.

“I like you in a way that makes me want more from you,” you admit, eyes steadily on his with resolve, “I don’t want to be just someone you know, or someone only for sex-”

“y/n-” he tries to interrupt you.

“And I certainly won’t be someone that sits around to wait for a guy if he doesn’t want me back,” you say, but there’s an apprehensive look in your eyes when you speak next, “so, I need you to answer to my feelings.”

Gojo blinks at you, his heart beating fast in his chest from your confession, and he feels like with every testing second that he fails to answer you back, you slip further and further away from him.

He knew he had affection for you. He always wanted to be close to you, even when he already was, as if he couldn’t get close enough. He wanted to take care of you, and see that softness in your expression when he knew you felt safe and happy. He couldn’t stand the thought of you with someone else, and it took him this damn long to realize as he stood in front of you that he had no interest in being with anyone else either. So then why did his chest feel so tight? And why was he struggling so much to give you an answer?

one day, you’ll lose someone you love. and everything following will fail to have meaning.

Gojo’s eyes widened as the memories of his life flashed through his mind, a chill running down his spine as they knock the wind from his lungs and he feels that same sense of dread that has been following him like a ghost since that day when he was just four years old, standing in the hallway, wondering why his father was having a nightmare on the bathroom floor when he should’ve known it was something far worse than that.

Gojo blames himself for so much that had gone wrong in his life. And he should know that it’s not his fault, but all of his grief was greedy to breathe and live, desperate to find a reason for why he had to lose someone he loved, and his grief found a home in all of his guilt.

And he was terrified to lose someone close to him again. Even if he decided to see what could become with you, even if he thought for a moment that he was allowed to feel any sort of happiness with you, the thought of falling short and failing frightened him. He was so tired of adding to a long list of regrets in his life. And he knew he wasn’t what you needed— what you deserved.

“I…” he starts, swallowing the lump in his throat, “I’m sorry, but I don’t feel the same way about you.” He knows he sounds convincing enough from the way the light in your eyes dimmed, anticipation faltering and replaced with a sad expression over your features. He needs to take a shaky breath to continue speaking. “It seems I’ve led you on in a lot of ways, and I apologize for that. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen anymore.”

You’re silent for a long moment, twiddling with your fingers as you look up at him. “I see…” you say, and when he sees your lower lip quiver slightly, he feels sick. His instinct is to reach out for you, pull you closer to him, but he knows that’s not a luxury you would allow for him, and he knew it wasn’t one he deserved either.

Your voice is trembling when you speak next. “I appreciate you letting me know. And you don’t have to worry about not leading me on anymore, because this will be the last time you see me.”

His entire body runs rigid.

“Why?” It’s a stupid question, but he asks it anyway.

“So I can get over you.”

All he can do is stand with the feeling of a chill in his bones.

“And I ask that you’ll respect my space while I do,” you add on at the end.

He’s silent for a long moment, then lets out the breath he was holding in. “I will,” he says, the promise leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

There’s a moment where you both just look at each other, as though the two of you were trying to hold onto the moment, but you’re the one to break out of it first, and he’s the one to wish it would’ve lasted a little longer.

“I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me.” The words already sounded like goodbye. “I’ll make sure you look nice in your photos,” you say with a small smile, holding your camera up slightly, “and good luck today.”

He wonders if he’ll regret this moment.

“Thanks.”

He steps aside so that you can walk past him and back out to the field. Gojo takes a deep breath, releasing it slowly, and relaxes his shoulders. Well, that was intense. Definitely not the direction he thought that conversation was going to go in at all, but that’s fine. He handled it fine. Totally fine. Things were going to be totally fine. He just has to play the match now.

The first step he takes back towards the field, he feels his uneasiness return, with the second step the feeling of his heart beating becomes violent in his head, with the third step he swears he can’t feel the tips of his fingers, with the fourth he feels severely nauseous, and with his fifth- was he seriously about to throw up?

He barely makes it back onto the grassy field cutting across the obstacles of people at the sidelines, using all his strength to not double over before he reaches a table and grabs one of the water bottles. He sees a group of men, all dressed in suits and loitering near the team manager’s station, perk their heads up at the sight of him and he’s groaning internally. The last thing he wanted to do right now was talk to any damn recruiters, but he sees one of them bold enough to approach him in his periphery. He sighs, taking one last gulp of water, and tries to stand up straight and look like he wasn’t going insane.

“Hi, I’m Jousuke Tsuda, recruiter for Tokyo Metropolitan’s national league team,” he says and stretches his hand out for Gojo to shake. The man looked aged, with thick creases to his forehead that could only mean he’s witnessed a hell of a lot of life and he has the soul to prove it.

Gojo’s eyes widen at the mention of Tokyo-Met’s team, and he grabs onto the man’s hand in as firm of a handshake he could manage. “Gojo Satoru.”

The man laughs. It’s deep with a slight crackle. “I know your name, son. Every recruiter in the country does. You’ve got a lot of eyes on you right now.”

“I’m flattered.”

The man raises an eyebrow at him. “Surely you feel pressured.”

Gojo only hums to himself.

The man glances at his watch. “I know the match starts in a few, but if I could have a moment of your time. Take a walk with me?”

“Sure.”

The two trail down the line of the field. “I’ll get straight to the point, kid. Tokyo-Met’s really keen on scouting you for the national league following your graduation,” he says.

Gojo feels like he should be excited about that news, actually, he should be ecstatic and groveling at this man’s feet, but instead he just feels empty and hollow inside.

“Forget the fact that you’ll be playing in the nation’s most revered team,” the man continues, “but compensation is high, too.” He pulls his phone out from his front suit pocket, tapping away at his calculator app, then turns the screen towards Gojo. Holy shit. “I’m talking about a 350 million yen per year contract here. I could advocate for higher based on how well you perform the rest of the season.”

“I…I don’t know what to say,” Gojo responds.

The man is silent for a second then sighs. When the two of them reach a somewhat secluded bench near the corner of the field, he sits down on it and expects Gojo to do the same, to which he complies.

“You know, I’m used to much more enthusiastic reactions from players that hear this kind of news, although they’re usually ecstatic for barely a hundred million a year compared to what I’ve just offered you,” the man says.

“I guess it’s the pressure,” Gojo says to him, “it’s got my emotional response circuit all fried up, y’know?” He was pulling excuses out of his ass.

A small hmph noise is heard beside him before he sees the man pulling a pack of cigarettes out of the pocket of his slacks. “I know your father has left big shoes to fill, kid. I can’t imagine the fear of feeling like you’ll fail, or the anxiety of an injury taking you out any time you’re on the field, not wanting history to repeat itself.”

Gojo’s eye twitches and he narrows his eyes at the man seated beside him. “My dad got injured in a car accident, not while playing the sport.”

“I know,” he responds, finally pulling a cigarette out of the pack, holding it between his two fingers as he rests his wrist on his knee. “The story touched the hearts of everyone in Tokyo, and the entire soccer community in general. I remember reading about it in the school newspaper. Back in the day when they still printed those things out.” Gojo’s surprised, and he’s only given a sideways smile before the man continues. “I knew your father, went to the same college as him.”

“I don’t think he ever mentioned you,” Gojo says.

He lets out a hearty laugh. “He despised me. I was a money-hungry finance major that saw a huge opportunity in mediator sports recruitment agencies. Figured if I could sign a player like your father to my start-up, I’d be set for life. He was a smart man not to sign, regardless of how things turned out.” He shakes his head musingly. “I gave up after that and got a real job. You’ll find a lot of your hopes and dreams die in college.”

“I see,” Gojo says.

The man leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees, and looks over with a serious expression on his face. “Tell me, son, what does this sport mean to you? Why have you dedicated your entire life to playing it?”

Gojo only gives him a cursory glance.

“Is it the fame and attention? The pride? The thrill? The prospect of earning millions and then retiring at thirty, and you get to watch your wife and kids playing in your grand estate’s pool on a sunny summer Sunday while you’re swirling around a glass of ‘90s scotch in your hand?” he asks, tone derisive but luring. “Or does it mean something more to you?”

Gojo looks down at his hands that were clenched tightly into fists. He relaxes them so that his fingers fall open weakly and his palms face the sky. He remembers the feeling of being a kid, the smell of freshly cut grass consuming his senses, the sight of bruises on his knees from how many times he fell on the field chasing after the ball, and the admiration in his father’s eyes every single time he stood back up. “It’s a chance to prove myself,” he finally says.

“Prove yourself of what?” the man pushes.

“That I’m capable of greatness,” Gojo admits, “like my father.”

The man nods slowly in acknowledgment. “Yes, your father was a great man. But not because of how he played the game. He was a great man because he knew which sacrifices were truly important.”

Gojo looks at him wearily. “Are you trying to tell a player you’re attempting to recruit that the sport isn’t important?”

He shakes his head, looking straight ahead. “No, it’s important. But it’s the meaning you give to your life outside of it that gives it importance.”

Gojo raises an eyebrow at him, not really sure what to make of the cryptic sentiment.

The man claps his hands together and stands up. “Alright, I’m sure that’s all the time you’ve got for me. Think about my offer, and if any other recruiters approach you with better ones, just know I’ll push for higher.” He hands Gojo his business card and brings his cigarette to mouth, balancing it between his lips. “Reach out if you have any questions.”

Gojo looks down at the card, his finger tracing the edge of it as he studies the shimmering gold lettering. “Why not just hit me with your best offer and leave? Why bother having this kind of conversation with me?”

The man pulls his cigarette from his mouth, pinching it between his two fingers once again. “We’ve all got regrets we want to make right, kid,” he says. And with his hands in his pockets, he walks away.

Gojo watches the man as he makes his way down the sidelines back to the cluster of men in suits. When he hears the referee whistle, he shoves the business card in the pocket of his uniform shorts, and makes his way towards the center of the sidelines.

His teammates instantly come up to him with optimistic smiles and encouraging pats on his chest and back, trying to keep the energy high to manifest a win for today, but Gojo just feels exhausted and like he’s drowning. He has so many thoughts swimming around in his head, he can’t even begin to explain, and he just wants someone to see through him at this moment.

The teams stand on the field for the national anthem, and then Osaka Uni’s team disperses while UTokyo’s alma mater plays. Coach Yaga yells for all the players to huddle before the coin toss and reminds them of their plays for the afternoon.

Nanami pulls his sweatbands onto his wrists, Geto pulls his hair back up into a bun, Chosou pulls tightly on the straps of his goalie gloves, and Gojo pushes his hair up off his forehead to snap his headband onto his face. He looks around to his other teammates and that sense of pride he feels to be a part of this team swells dully despite his emotions.

UTokyo wins the coin toss, choosing to kick, and Gojo finds his place in the center of the field. The crowd is already cheering preemptively, their pride in their home team evident in the passion of the filled stands, and Gojo peers across the large expanse of the field as he rests his foot on top of the soccer ball. It’s a scene he’s seen a hundred times in his life, but the sight is daunting today. He takes his foot off the ball when he hears the referee signal the start of the match with a short piercing shrill of his whistle, and the second Gojo draws his leg back and his foot makes contact with the ball, sending it flying forward, he can already feel that something feels very off.

Every single time he had the ball in his possession, his footwork felt heavy and delayed. His teammates had set up more than three chances for him to score, and he shot wide every single time. The crowd’s cheers started to diminish, and he could feel the growing discontent and exasperation from all eyes on the field. Ten minutes before halftime, they were down 1-0, and stakes were starting to feel high.

One of his teammates passes a ball right to Gojo’s favored foot, the crowd instantly erupting with noise and stands to their feet as Gojo shuffles the ball past the penalty line, through Osaka’s defenders, eyes locked with the perfect opportunity to strike. This was good, he had his rhythm back, even if just for a moment, and he can see it, clear as day–the trajectory to the goal. With the feeling of slick sweat on his face and determination in his veins, he withdraws his leg back to kick the ball. The world went silent in his head, the only sound being the beating of his heart, and-

“this will be the last time you see me.”

When he recalls your voice, everything moves in slow-motion as his ankle slips slightly on the grass from his moment of hesitation, and then the ball is swiftly stolen by an opposing team player and maneuvered past him.

“Fuck!” he hisses, immediately turning his head around as he helplessly watches the opponents players move with fervor in pursuit of another goal. The crowd hushed in horror as Osaka passed the ball through UTokyo’s defense, swiftly steadying down the side and sending the ball flying through Chosou’s outstretched arms. 2-0, and the lead ref calls for halftime.

“Dude,” one of his teammates comes up to him as they walk back towards the benches and throws his arms up in the air, “what the hell is wrong with you today?”

“Seriously, man, not a single goal in the first half? You know how many times I’ve set up a shot for you?" another one of his teammates chimes in, nudging Gojo’s shoulder way harder than he’d usually warrant, and shortly after, a blaming fest begins among the players.

“Enough!” Coach Yaga yells out. All of the players quiet down and look at him, some grudgingly gulping down water while others just try to regain their breath. Gojo’s arms just hang at his sides in defeat. “We’re pushing everything on offense now, we can’t afford to miss any more shots,” Coach Yaga says, his fear of losing the match evident too despite his rough tone, “Satoru, I’m switching you out. Dai, take his place.”

“What?” Gojo asks incredulously, charging forward so he’s in front of the older man. “I’m not getting benched.”

“You will, because I say so,” Coach Yaga says sternly, “you’re distracted, boy. I can see it all over your face.”

“I’m n-”

“Just sit down,” Coach Yaga lets out a disgruntled noise. “When players are distracted, they get injured. Have faith in your teammates.”

“Coach,” Gojo asks again, this time almost pleading. He hardly ever questioned Coach Yaga’s calls, he had a great deal of respect for the man. But something within him just absolutely refused to get benched today.

Coach Yaga stares at him for a long moment, and it’s only when one of the refs chirps their whistle that he finally exhales and gives him a reluctant jerk of his head towards the field.

Geto sets up the perfect shot for Nanami to sweep for a kick that barely lands through the goalie’s lunge for the ball, and then on the next play, secures another goal himself. The score is tied, 2-2, with eight minutes left on the clock. Gojo manages to steal the ball on a defensive play, and it’s only really a stroke of luck that he manages in one solid pass the entire game, straight to Geto’s foot, crowd roaring, and he watches his best friend shoot and sink within the last minute and a half of the game.

3-2. UTokyo’s win.

Gojo sighs, exhausted as he makes his way to the bench, crouching down and zipping open his duffle bag. Spirits are low among the team despite the excitement from the crowd over their win because of how hauntingly close the loss felt during the last moments of the match, disinterested in celebrating at all as they meekly dispersed across the field. Gojo knew he was going to get a massive yelling-to from Coach Yaga and he could feel the searing disappointment from his teammates for not carrying the game more. This was just a bare win, could’ve gone either way, and his performance today wasn’t a good look for any recruiters either. He felt so emotionally and physically drained from this entire day, and he wasn’t sure how the hell he could feel any better.

Shuffling through his bag for a water bottle, his knuckles hit something cold and metallic-sounding tucked away inside. He hums to himself curiously before grabbing it and pulling it out.

strawberry vanilla soda.

Hm. This wasn’t the one you gave him a couple of days ago. He already drank that one. Did you sneak this into his bag? His brow furrows, and he stares at the sparkling smiling sloth on the label. When he turns the can in his hand, he sees a little note messily scribbled in black ink.

good luck today! u got this :) ur a star

His eyes widened.

And putting his heart through a shredder would’ve hurt less than when he realizes what an idiot he’s been this entire time.

He’s instantly searching the field, peering through crowds of people, mascots, banners, flags, for any sight of you. He’s not sure how or why he goes in the direction that he does, but deep down it’s because he knows you like taking millions of pictures of flowers, and the west side exit has endless blooms of them. And so when he runs out that way, cleats tapping against the concrete pavement that leads out into the courtyard in the front of the stadium, and spots you standing there, he finally lets out the breath of air he feels like he’s been holding in his chest all day.

You’re aiming your camera at teal and orange petals scattered across the decorative florals lining the raised concrete planters, then pull it down from your face and twiddle with the settings, tilting your head to the side. You then pluck at one of the blooms that was spilling over the edges, bringing it to the tip of your nose curiously. And he just watches, chest heaving from the urgency that he rushed to get to you, heart aching from the desperation of wanting to be near you. He wanted to ask you how you were feeling, he wanted to know how your pictures came along, he wanted to know what you were doing after this, and he wanted you to be with him. But most importantly, he wanted to make sure that this wasn’t the last time he ever saw you again.

It isn’t until a minute after that you seem keen on his presence too, and you swiftly turn your head in his direction, surprised. “Satoru?” you say. He wonders if he’ll melt. He wonders if those ice-cold barriers he’s built over the years could thaw just from the way you say his name.

But when he takes a step forward, you take a step back. And he halts. The expression on your face was unfamiliar to him. Once soft, curious, trusting. Now you looked at him like you were guarding something, keeping it safe from him, and he no longer had the right to intrude. And then he realizes the hell he’s put you through all this time.

He regrets pushing you away.

“I know I said I’d respect the fact that you want space,” he says through bated breath, “but I…I just can’t stand the thought of never seeing you again.”

You’re solemn when you look at him, reading the plea in his eyes, and then slowly shake your head. He feels like he can’t breathe.

“I’m sorry. Goodbye.”

And then you walk out of his life.

a/n. thank you for reading! i have a few more author notes that explain a few things that i couldn't really find a way to fit into the chapter organically, but wanted to address before moving on, if you're curious you can find them here. hope to see you in the next one! pls lemme know if i missed any tags i'm sorry if i did :')

➸ take me to chapter eight!

taglist: @who-can-touch-my-boob @lost-resonance @foulprincesscycle @purplehallow11 @tsukikourito @getitsatoru @erencvlt @slut-4-gojo @cactisjuice @kissofife @tiredflame132 @cliosunshine @ethereally-lyann @prince-wyiilder @semra4 @gojosimp26 @hojoslutoru @drthymby @ninitoru @btszn @bbyxxm @fvsm4x @sadmonke @zoinks1010 @bakuhoethotski @fvsm4x @colouringfrogssittinginleaves @ri-sa20 @cierocanteat (thank you to everyone <3)

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penkura · 3 months

Text

where you belong [2/10]

Summary: As Luffy's big sister, you've viewed it to be your job to see him become King of the Pirates in place of your absent parents, even as you try to find where it is you belong in the world. You never really expected to draw the attention of Trafalgar Law in the process.

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x Fem!reader

Warnings: Discussion of feelings of abandonment, age gap relationship (four years), brief secret relationship, mentions and heavy refences to sex, mentions of alcohol, typical One Piece stuff. Other warnings to be added if needed.

Note: Sorry this has taken so long! I wanted to really progress these two and get some moments between them, so the chapter ended up bigger than planned! Next one is a good one I think. ;) Forgot to mention last time but Reader is going to be described as shorter than Law, and that height difference can be your own interpretation (I'm 5ft tall, these men would tower over me).

I am also FLOORED at how well received the first chapter was and that we've got a taglist for this series, my gosh. You guys are so sweet and wonderful!! If I missed you on the taglist PLEASE let me know and I will add you to the future chapters! I hope you'll enjoy this chapter and the beginning of Law and Reader falling for each other!

Taglist:

[Ch. 1]

You spend the next week learning more about the Polar Tang and the Heart Pirates themselves, Law taking most of your time to help you get used to things. He's made sure you understand the basic rules of the ship, for his crew, including the boiler suits, and what do in case of certain emergencies. You’re going to be working on your poisons in his office, in case anything happens, he can help you fix it. You’re honestly grateful for the time everyone has taken to help you get your bearings straight and work out where things are. You’ll be sharing a room with Ikkaku, who is so glad to have another girl aboard for as long as you are. She’s already started sharing some gossip with you, pointing out those involved so you knew who was who on top of it all.

Penguin has been extremely kind and helpful, telling you that you’re welcome to join him for night watches once you tell him you spend a lot of time writing during your shifts on the Sunny.

Shachi and Uni both showed you around some of the major maintenance areas, both promising they’d help you learn the most basic things so you can be of help if needed.

You’re about to join Bepo for a quick navigation lesson before their captain calls you, wanting to discuss somethings with you before you got too far away.

Law, although he agreed to letting you stay with him and his crew, still isn’t entirely sure what to do with you. There’s still that strange feeling in his chest when you smile at him, as you thank him for all his help and allowing you to stay, once he brings you to his office again a few days later, and he waves you off.

“You don’t have to thank me constantly.”

“I know,” you smile again and he feels that feeling that’s been hanging around, but Law tries to ignore it, “I’m just…really grateful. I know my being here may be a burden—”

“Not a burden, you’re welcome here. Everyone’s glad you’re staying around for now.”

Hearing that makes you brighten up, as Law starts to question you more about what you do for the Straw Hats, and what you can bring to his crew in the meantime. You list off everything you’ve come to learn about being at sea from being a Straw Hat, Law making mental notes on other things to ask about later.

“Any other special talents we should know about?”

You start to think, pressing a finger to your chin while you do so. Another action Law has to tell himself isn’t cute, before you grin and lean in close to him, quietly speaking.

“I can see the dead.”

Complete silence as Law raises an eyebrow at you as you continue to grin, halfway expecting him to ask for proof. Ask you to tell him about a spirit that might be hanging around the Polar Tang, or around one his crewmembers, but he doesn’t ask anything, eventually returning to a straight face.

“No you can’t.”

“…okay fine, I can’t. It’d be cool though!”

He rolls his eyes, which makes you laugh in return. Law goes to let you out of his office which you oblige by, knowing he’s done talking with you now that you’ve made your joke. He stops you with a hand on your shoulder first, you giving him a questioning look.

“I’ll help you make antidotes for your poisons. But you won’t use my crew as test subjects.”

“Ha! That’s fine, I don’t test on people anyway, just in case. Just give me some fish and I can use those.”

Giving him another grin, you walk ahead saying Bepo was going to show you something next, but Law had rudely interrupted by wanting to know what you could bring to his crew for the next two years. You’ll promise later to make extra batches of antidote for him to keep in his medicine stockpile, while Law watches you hurry down the hall and sighs.

“That’s the wrong way.”

He’s quick to follow you, grabbing your arm and bringing you back the right way, deciding he’ll join you and Bepo for whatever it was you two were discussing next. He wants to ensure you’re being given correct information and know what to do in an emergency, especially so if you need medical attention.

Atta boy, Law.

If you really could see the dead, you’d have noticed the tall, blond man with makeup and a large, black feathered coat pushing Law towards you.

+!+

“We’re approaching a winter island, everyone needs to be ready to disembark for a bit and—”

“A winter island?!”

Your outburst causes Law to stop speaking with a nod at you, and you’re gone to the crew bunks in an instant, followed by Bepo who is just as excited. Law gives a look to Ikkaku and Uni, who you’d been talking to when he came in, and both simply shrug at him. They all briefly noticed a sparkle in your eyes as you ran off, likely to change clothes and get ready to disembark, but none of them knew your intent or real interest in the snow.

It's only when Law catches you by the exit door with Bepo, excitedly talking with the Polar bear mink about what you could do in the snow, all dressed up in your coat, thick pants, boots and gloves. You and Bepo trade ideas back and forth about what to build out of the snow, or if you can get a snowball fight started.

Law hasn’t seen someone so excited for snow in a long time, he thinks not since the last winter with Lami.

Penguin joins you and Bepo by the door next, throwing an arm around your shoulders and giving you a smile.

“What’re you so excited about some snow for?”

“It practically never snows in my home town! I think it snowed maybe twice while Luffy and I lived there? Chopper is from a winter island, so when we were there, it was so exciting!”

“Haha, I’m from the North Blue, so snow is pretty normal up there. Well…the area me and Shachi are from anyway.”

“Ah,” you give a little sigh but smile yourself, “I’m so jealous. What about Trafalgar?”

“That’s…well, kind of different, but we did meet him where we used to live,” looking over his shoulder, Penguin sees Law but leans into whisper, “Probably better if you ask him another time. It’s…a lot…”

Before you have a chance to question it, Law comes up behind Penguin and tells him to go ahead with opening the door, the Polar Tang should be stable enough for you all to leave now. You put that question into the back of your mind for later, instead running out with Bepo as soon as the door opens. The excitement both of you have is almost contagious, as the rest of the Heart Pirates slowly join you outside. While some of them are tasked with scoping out the island, the rest end up with you and Bepo building snowmen for a while, though you and the mink end up making a snow polar bear the best you can even if it looks a little goofy in the end. Some pieces are a little larger than others but you still think it’s cute, even as your companion bows his head apologetically.

“I’m sorry, [Y/N], I made some things a little too big.”

“No, that’s okay, Bepo! It gives it charm, I think he’s cute!”

You reassure Bepo a few times with a smile, before the two of you go to work with others on more snow sculptures. It goes well until you get hit in the face with a snowball, thrown by Hakugan at Shachi who dodged just in time. While it makes you sneeze a bit as you brush the snow off your face, with Bepo and Ikkaku yelling at Hakugan while he shouts apologies and Shachi nearly cackles, it doesn’t upset you at all really. Yeah it kind of hurt to have a snowball hit you in the face, but hey, you mentioned a snowball fight earlier, right?

Crouching down to gather up some snow, you put on a wicked grin and fling the ball at Hakugan yourself, catching him in the back as he turns away while you laugh.

“How about a warning next time?!”

“Yeah, snowball fight!!”

Most everyone joins in, gathering up all the snowballs they could or just throwing loose snow at each other, Law watches from the side, a slight smile on his face. He’s glad everyone can take a bit to relax and enjoy themselves, he’s not sure he’s seen his crew this excited about snow in a long time, even Shachi who grew up in the North Blue. Some of you group up to get an advantage over others, Law turns to ignoring the snowball fight as Penguin and Uni come back with what they found on the island.

All is well until Law is hit in the back of the head with a snowball, keeping himself upright but turning quickly to search through everyone and find who did it as you all quiet down seeing his glare. Not a single person looks him in the eye, but they all point to you, while you cover your mouth with your hand and try to stifle your laughter.

“S-Sorry, Trafalgar,” a giggle escapes you as you glance over to him, “I… I was… hehe… aiming for Penguin… honest!”

“Oh yeah…?” Law’s voice is low, he crouches down to scoop up some snow, locking eyes with you as yours widen and you turn to run, but realize it’s futile when Law uses his Shambles to catch up and grab you, shoving the snow he’d gathered into your coat and making you screech before everyone returns to the snowball fight.

“That’s cruel!!”

“Everyone get Captain, he’s cheating!’

While the rest of the Heart Pirates aim for Law, you and their captain are honed in on each other, trading blows from snowballs for the longest time, your personal goal to knock his hat off as payback for shoving snow down your back. Luckily you’re not the one to hit him hard enough to knock the spotted hat off, but you’re close enough to grab before he does, sticking it on your own head and playing keep away once Law realizes where it’s at.

“Looks good on me, huh, Trafalgar?! I might keep it!”

“The hell you will, that’s mine!”

Once Law catches you, he doesn’t let go until he’s snatched his hat back off your head and returned it to its rightful place, keeping a grip on your arm as he notices the sky starting to get darker. The rest of the crew has settled down, stopping at first to watch you and Law until a new snowfall began.

You forget for a few minutes that Law has a hold of your arm, it’s not uncomfortable, but you feel your heart pick up a bit from it.

“It’s pretty….the snowfall.”

He nods, finally noticing he still has a hold of you and letting go, disappointment flooding you as Law calls for everyone to return to the ship. Tomorrow will be a day in town to restock, you’ll all take off again afterwards.

You volunteer at dinner to make everyone the lavender milk tea that Makino once taught you, most of the crew enjoying it, but you’re especially surprised by Law liking it, even telling you so.

It's the small smile he gives when you thank him that makes you realize you just might be starting to get a crush on him.

+!+

Law knows something is up when you don’t join the rest of the Heart Pirates for a meeting before being let off the ship. He still does his job as captain, giving out duties to everyone so they knew what to do and who would be stocking supplies, who would be checking for wanted posters, and anything he felt needed to be done this time. He’d planned for you to join him on a once around the island to look for anything of interest, but when you don’t show up, he knows something must be wrong.

“Ikkaku-ya,” Law stops your roommate before she gets too far, Ikkaku giving him her full attention, “Where’s [Y/N]-ya?”

“Oh, um…” Ikkaku shuffles from one foot to the next, not fully looking at her captain and that’s what worries him more, until she speaks again, “She isn’t feeling well…she’s not sick so she doesn’t need a check-up but, it might be best to leave her alone today, probably tomorrow too…”

That leads to Law believing your cycle had started, and he chooses not to question it further, lest he or Ikkaku feel embarrassed about the discussion. He decides to leave you be, you’ll probably join them tomorrow for island exploring, most likely with Penguin if he asks you especially. When you do show up for dinner that evening, you’re quieter than usual and Law notices how Penguin and Ikkaku are the ones to talk with you. He can’t hear anything they say, but seeing you at least smile and respond to them is enough for him to think that everything is fine, you’re just not feeling 100% and that makes sense. He’s heard you and Ikkaku complain about cramps and the like the last few months, he already knows the first day is hard for you, so he lets it go. At least you’re out and talking to everyone.

But he knows something is up the next time it happens, not even two weeks later, and it can’t be blamed on your period this time. You don’t show up to a crew meeting, you still aren’t one of his crewmates but you’ve been joining for anything interesting or important, and Law doesn’t let it show that he's a little more worried, so he stops Penguin this time and asks him the same thing, where are you and why didn’t you show up?

Penguin doesn’t fully look at Law, scratching the back of his head as he tries to find the words.

“She…just isn’t up for it today, Cap. Maybe we should let her have the day off…”

Although Law tells Penguin that’s fine, he does go off to find you, the door to your and Ikkaku’s room barely open, but he knocks to make sure you’re not indecent or anything. There’s no answer so he opens the door, not seeing you anywhere, the new assumption being that you’re in the bathroom. He turns his attention there, again knocking on the door.

“[Y/N]-ya, Penguin-ya said you weren’t felling well, are you all right?”

No response, Law furrows his brow and knocks again, saying your name a little louder this time. He swears he hears a small whimper and a sob, and that’s what makes him finally open the bathroom door, simply saying he’s coming in before doing so, but he nearly freezes when he sees you.

Nearly curled up into a ball in the corner, head buried in your arms wrapped around your knees with numerous used tissues and he just knows that if you looked up at him, he’d feel that strange feeling in his chest again, or one of heartbreak, he isn’t entirely sure which one.

Law is not trying to scare you, but when he touches your hand and says your name a third time, it makes you jump and look up at him with wide, tear filled eyes, you feel beyond embarrassed that he’s caught you like this, but it quickly turns to more tears and a bit of anger.

“Are you—”

“Get out! Go away!!” Law barely dodges the box of tissues when you throw it at him, he’s not able to dodge the mascara you toss at his head as you keep yelling at him to leave. He doesn’t really move to leave until you stand up much too quickly and start pushing him out, he’s just surprised at your reaction to him finding you crying. “Leave me alone!!”

Once he’s out the door you almost slam it shut in his face and lock it, Law doesn’t know what to make of this really.

He can handle physical ailments, mental is a little harder for him but he’s working on it for his crew, yet emotional problems are not in his wheel house at all. He doesn’t really know why you’re locked in the bathroom, hiding in a corner crying, but that look on your face gave him an idea. He recognizes it from his own past, after his family and Flevance, then again after Corazon.

It was pure grief that was written on your face, definitely from your still fresh loss of Ace, and Law isn’t sure how to help you.

He doesn’t know if he should help you, you just might turn all your grief inward and ignore any hands held out for help, even from your new friends let alone him.

“Captain? Why are you…oh.”

Ikkaku finds Law still in your room several minutes later, staring at your bathroom door, until he hears her and looks at her, an expression she can’t read on his face.

“How long?”

“A few weeks now,” she sits on the edge of her bed, not looking at Law now, “It happens randomly it seems like, or something reminds her of Ace and sets her off. His birthday is soon, so that might be it right now. Penguin and I promised we wouldn’t let anyone know, so she could grieve alone.”

“Why was it being kept a secret?”

She shrugs a bit, Law isn’t sure he’s going to get many more answers today, but then Ikkaku speaks up again.

“She doesn’t want to burden anyone with her feelings, I guess. She should be fine by dinner, Captain, she just… needs some time.”

While she is correct, and you show up again at dinner looking normal but still with a sadness on your face that he can see, Law wonders if there’s something he can do to help you. Your need to grieve and have that time alone isn’t a bad thing, he won’t deny you that when you need it, but he wants to do something for you, he still doesn’t know you well enough to know that exactly you need, but anything is better than letting you be alone.

He knows all too well how that feels.

When it happens a third time, several weeks later, you don’t show up once again, Law doesn’t even need to look at Penguin or Ikkaku, they won’t meet his eyes anyway. After he lets everyone else go, his next mission is to find you, even though he knows exactly where you are. Law isn’t sure if his plan is going to work, but he wants you to stop hiding away from everyone when you break down. It’s not because he’s angry about it, he just doesn’t want you to continue suffering alone. It’s not good for anyone to do that.

He doesn’t even knock when he gets to your room, but does so when he sees your bathroom door is closed like the last time.

“[Y/N]-ya, I’m coming in.”

“No,” you force back a sob, making sure the door is locked, “Go away!”

“I won’t.”

You haven’t experienced all the abilities Law has at his disposal, but you aren’t that surprised when you see a blue hue, and he’s in the bathroom with you not even a moment later. He’s not phased by you attempting to throw things at him again, even while you yell at him to leave you alone, you don’t need help, you don’t need anyone right now.

You’ve handled things like this by yourself your whole life, why would need help now?

“I don’t need help!”

“I’m not trying to help.”

“Then lea—”

Law doesn’t give you much more room to talk, instead grabbing your wrist and pulling you into a hug, pressing your face into his chest which causes your eyes to widen a bit and tears to flow even more.

“I’m not trying to help,” Law holds you tightly, feeling a just a bit of relief as you slowly wrap your arms around him in return while you return to crying, “but you don’t have to be alone, all right?”

“T-Trafalgar…I…I just—”

“I know, I get it. But,” he knows it’s probably going to sound hypocritical based on his own issues, but Law still feels the need to say it again, “you don’t have to do this alone.”

Law isn’t entirely sure why he’s chosen to let you cry into him, let you grip onto his shirt like he’s the only thing holding you to the earth while you continue to cry and say how it isn’t fair that Ace died, that you lost another brother (he’s going to have to ask about that later, that’s the second time you’ve mentioned it). Maybe it’s because he didn’t have anyone back then, when he lost his own loved ones. It might be that, because he saw a reflection of himself in you the first time he found you hiding away and struggling to handle your grief. While you drag the two of you to the floor, Law simply adjusts to as comfortable a position he can, he’s at least sure you’ll both be there a while. You don’t show any signs of calming any time soon.

Law doesn’t know why he came after you, but once your cries fade to nothing, not even whimpers, he’s relieved to hear you speaking to him without being upset or between sobs of anger and sadness.

“I’m sorry…for crying all over your shirt again…”

“Don’t be. It’ll wash.”

Law strokes your hair a bit while you finally smile, nodding, before he helps you up off the floor. While you wash your face, Law directs you to not worry about helping anyone out with chores or sharing shifts today, he’s already split everything up among his crew, you’re under strict orders from the doctor to rest and recover from your breakdown. He does offer to bring you something to eat and drink, which you take him up on, stopping him before he fully leaves your room.

“Thank you…Law, I appreciate this…”

He’s completely aware that’s the first time you’ve used his first name, and he notices a different feeling in his chest. It’s not the same, almost heart squeeze he’s felt before, but something more comforting. Warm almost, and he’s starting to get it more.

“You’re welcome, [Y/N]-ya.”

Ah, that’s what it is…

Law realizes he’s starting to have feelings for you, though he decides to push them down for now.

He’s not going to use your weakened emotional state to push himself further into your life, not when he doesn’t even know if he’s okay with these feelings or not. For now, he’s going to do what he said and bring you some lunch, he’ll deal with these feelings later.

It is nice to hear you call him by his given name though.

+!+

“You’re as reckless as your brother.”

You giggle a bit while Law continues to wrap bandages around your arm, shooting you a small glare while you laugh. He’s not amused, mostly because it was him you’d tried to protect and ended up getting hurt over. You shoved him out of the way of an enemy attack, receiving a deep slice across your own arm instead. Once he realized what happened, Law was furious with you, even though he knows you aren’t part of his crew, it didn’t change the fact he was trying to protect you for Luffy while your crew was apart. You were lucky, he’d told you after he forced you to the infirmary, that your attacker’s weapon didn’t have any poison on it. You’d probably be dead before he even got you there if it had been.

You just grinned and said it was the opposite, your attacker was lucky your knife didn’t have poison on it, or he’d be in worse shape than he already was from your perfect aim hitting him between the shoulders. It doesn’t cause Law any relief to hear that, he still glares and it makes you start to shrink away, averting your gaze elsewhere.

You two still don’t know each other very well, it’s only been a few months since Luffy tossed you to him as the Heart Pirates left Amazon Lily. Still, you’ve found Law is fiercely protective of his crew, his family, just as you are with the Straw Hats, and while you’re with them, you count as one of his crewmembers.

The feelings you’ve started to develop for him don’t help much, Ikkaku being the only one who knows since you’ve told her how distraught you feel over it.

How could you start falling for a rival pirate captain? It’s only a crush but it makes you feel like you’re betraying your crew sometimes.

“Law, I’m fi—”

“And what if you weren’t?” He’s nearly grinding his teeth and ties off your bandage a little tighter than he intended, making you take a sharp breath. “What would you want me to tell your brother?”

You shrug, starting to play with the end of the bandages to distract yourself from him. “Could just tell him I protected you.”

“I don’t need you to protect me,” you jump when Law slams down the scissors on the metal plate, keeping his back to you so you don’t see how upset he really is, “My crew knows I don’t need it. They know to run if a battle might cost them their lives. Why can’t you see that?”

“Because I do this for my crewmates, too. I’ve even pushed Zoro and Sanji out of the way. I’m sorry if you don’t like it but—”

“Sorry wouldn’t bring you back from the dead.”

You both become silent, you taking a deep breath and holding it for a moment before nodding and biting your lip.

“You’re right…that’s why Ace isn’t back.”

“Hey, I didn’t—”

“Thanks for bandaging me up, Trafalgar,” Law turns around just as you jump off the table, going to leave, “I’ll see you at dinner.”

Law watches you leave, letting out a frustrated sigh once you’re gone. He really hadn’t meant to upset you, it just came out, but it was also the truth. What good was ‘sorry’ if you had died and he had to tell Luffy that he'd lost another sibling, this time a blood related one? He didn’t want to have to deal with that, not when you and Luffy were still getting over Ace’s death.

He gets it, he really does, that pain doesn’t go away quickly, no matter how many false smiles you give to him or the others, or how often you laugh with them. No matter how many times he finds you crying the bathroom over you grief. It hasn’t been that long, he doesn’t expect you to be whatever is normal for you so soon. He probably shouldn’t be berating you, you’re not part of his crew so he doesn’t have the right, Law isn’t your captain.

But, you’re under his care for two years, you’re a temporary member of his crew, so you should listen to him. You’re proving to be as stubborn as Luffy is, but also just as protective as Law is.

And your progress with him, ugh. You’d finally gotten comfortable enough to call him by his first name, and now you’re back to calling him Trafalgar instead. Seven months of progress down the drain all because he was concerned, worried about you being reckless.

…why am I so worried though?

He could easily chalk it up to the fact you’re Luffy’s sister and he’s trying to protect you until you’re back with your crew, or he could even say its because of the feelings he’s developed for you, but Law doesn’t want to get into that right now.

Neither of you speak until dinner, when you run into each other right outside the kitchen and start a back and forth about who should go in first.

“You’re the captain, sir.”

“Ladies first, miss.”

You don’t like being formal, or hearing him call you ‘miss’, but you don’t want to fight about it. Not when his crew can hear and might be concerned about it.

“Crew shouldn’t eat without their captain there.”

“We don’t have that rule around here.”

Eventually you relent and go first, getting your food and taking the first free seat by Ikkaku, Law sitting beside you a moment later. You don’t talk to each other the whole time, you focus on your conversation with Ikkaku while Law responds to anyone speaking to him. You barely even notice when Law takes the roll he really didn’t want to have on his plate, and moves it to yours, almost like a peace offering that you two are okay, he’s not mad at you for trying to protect him anymore. You do give him a smile when you notice, which he returns with a nod before leaving for his room.

You sigh a bit, looking back to your plate and keeping your smile to yourself.

Things will be okay.

+!+

Over the last nearly ten months, Law has learned a few of your quirks. When you work on your poisons, you mark things three times over to ensure you have the correct amounts listed, you almost always strike up conversation with him about anything that comes to mind, even if Law doesn’t answer you.

Sometimes he’s caught you biting your pencil or pen while making notes, it’s one of your cuter quirks.

On nights you can’t sleep, like tonight, he can easily find you in the kitchen, brewing up some tea to help you fall asleep, and that’s where Law decides he has to talk to you. You’ve both moved past your argument from a few months ago, it’s like it never happened now, but he feels the need to speak with you about something important.

No, not his feelings, he’s going to ignore those as long as possible. He recognized them after you’d had an emotional breakdown, he’s not going to admit that especially, he doesn’t want you to think he has a kink for crying or something, absolutely not.

“Hey.”

“Oh, hey, Law,” you look over your shoulder for a second with a smile, turning back to your tea, “Couldn’t sleep, though some tea might help.”

“Your usual then?”

Nodding, as you finish off your tea making, Law sits at the table and waits for you to join him, knowing you’ve made him a cup of lavender milk tea too. You’d started doing that and either taking it to his office before you head to bed or having him join you in the kitchen where you have small conversations before you both turn in for the night.

You’ve gotten quite comfortable with Law, your own feelings for him aside. He’s been helpful with your poison and antidote creations, ensuring your ratios are correct and helping you when they aren’t. You’ve started discussing books you’ve both read, you were shocked to find he enjoyed the Sora Warrior of the Sea comics. His being such a nerd over them never struck you as odd thankfully, Law even letting you borrow a few of his copies so you can give it a try yourself.

He makes you feel safe and comfortable, you really enjoy being with Law.

Law thanks you when you hand over the mug of tea, taking your seat across from him to enjoy your own, settling into a welcomed silence. With how rowdy his crew can be at times, you get why Law hides himself away in his office most of the time, and you’re grateful that he lets you share the space when needed.

“I know you said I didn’t have to,” Law looks over to you as you speak, an eyebrow raised, “but thank you again, for letting me stay. I really appreciate the help you’ve given me.”

“Like I’ve said, its no problem. Everyone’s glad you’re here.”

I’m more than glad you’re here.

There’s a soft smile on your face that Law enjoys seeing, and he honestly hopes you won’t lose it after he talks to you.

“I wanted…to tell you something.”

“Go for it,” setting your mug down on the table, you rest your elbows there with your chin in your hands, “I’m all ears, Law.”

He's almost fighting himself on if he should or shouldn’t, maybe another time. It’s late after all, you probably want to go to bed now that you’ve had your tea. It’s making him sleepy too, but the anxiety he feels is almost nullifying the tea’s effects.

Taking a deep breath, Law finally speaks up again, not meeting your eye.

“I want to tell you about my past,” that makes you perk up, remembering what Penguin had said to you months ago, “But I don’t think I can tonight. It’s…”

“A lot…?”

He nods, which you return, realizing this must be more than what Penguin could’ve meant, it has to be hard for Law to dredge up whatever memories he has of his childhood and teenage years, of everything that led him to where he is now.

Everything that’s leading him down the path he’s chosen.

“So,” when he finally looks up at you, you’re not surprised at how tired Law looks, it has to be taking a lot for him to do this, “I want to set a time in a few days, where you and I can sit, and I can tell you everything. “

You need to know before I could ever tell you my feelings anyway.

“Law,” Nodding, you quietly reach out your hand to his, not wanting to scare him off, “Just tell me whenever, and I’ll make myself available to listen, okay?”

After he agrees, Law offers to walk you back to your shared room with Ikkaku, which you take him up on even though you know the way. The Polar Tang is only so big, but it’s nice to have him by your side. Once you reach your door, Law turns to leave and you stop him, grabbing his shirt sleeve and leaning up, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, his eyes widening just a hair.

“Thanks for walking me…and trusting me, Law. See you in the morning.”

You don’t give him a chance to say anything in response before you enter your room and close the door, sighing heavily as you bring yourself to the floor, Ikkaku watching you from her bed.

“Man, you’ve got it bad for the captain, huh?”

“…it’s that obvious?”

“As obvious as the fact he’s the same for you, girlfriend.”

While you don’t believe Ikkaku is correct in that statement, Law isn’t able to bring himself to move for several minutes, frozen in shock that you decided to kiss his cheek and just run off to bed.

It looks like you’ve got more to talk about than just his past now.

#one piece x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #where you belong #fem!reader #reader insert

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humanitys-strongest-brat · 17 days

Text

Kintsugi - ch. 1

Summary: After an injury causes you to lose your spot in the World Figure Skating Championship your last hope falls into the hands of Levi Ackerman, a former Olympic competitor.

Pairing: Coach!Levi x Injured fem!Reader

CW: Injury, major themes of depression and hopelessness. 18+ mdni

wc: 3.2k

a/n: Starting off with a huge thank you to @i-lev-you for helping me throughout the process of making this fic and always listening to me yap about my ideas. This is my first chaptered fanfic and I'm very excited to share it~

dedicated song - dividers 1/2

You cry out as your hip collides with the ground. Rolling into a sitting position you pull your left leg up by the knee. Just resting your blade on the ice sends another shock of pain through your ankle and up your leg. You let out a hiss and squeeze your eyes shut.

You refuse to believe it, deep down you know you just sustained a serious injury. You tell yourself it's not that bad.

get up.

walk it off.

Come on.

Your breathing staggers as you twist your body and pull yourself into a kneel, your good foot anchoring on the ice ready to stand back up. The pain is excruciating.

“Stay Down!” your coach shouts as she races towards you. “Sit back down.” She demands, and you listen, carefully pulling your weight onto your left hip, carefully settling back down onto the ice.

Coach Tarasov bends down, instructing you to extend your leg out. When you do she carefully applies light pressure to your boot, only nudging it a little to confirm her fears. Your hand immediately flies over your mouth, you curse and wince in pain. “Not good,” She breathes out “Let’s get you up and off the ice” she says, her voice stern and serious, you know now that it’s really bad, you don't want to believe it.

“Coach,” your lip quivers as you look up at her, you feel destroyed. Panic fills your body and your throat is burning. “...Worlds-” Part of you is humiliated. Sure, you’ve cried in front of Coach Tarasov before; during long sessions that never seemed to end, practicing jumps you couldn't land no matter how many times you tried, watching your peers excel on your bad days. This was different.

This was devastating.

Mid February, four weeks before the World Figure Skating Championship. It was just like any other practice. today you were doing triple toe loops and landed wrong.

You can’t contain your sobs as your coach helps you up. She urges you to hold your foot up while she pulls you to the rink’s exit. When you finally sit down on the bench you notice how tight your boot feels. Holding back your sobs causes you to shake as Coach Tarasov kneels in front of you to untie your skate. “I’m just going to look at it.” She tries to sound comforting, but you can hear the disappointment that laces her words, the acceptance in her tone. Like she knew you were done right then and there without even seeing it.

Your panicked sob catches in your throat as she pulls the boot off, every surge of pain was just as bad as the last. You can't look, you keep your eyes on your coach. When she peels back your nylon sock she stops and stares for a second before letting out a sigh and dropping her head down in defeat. “You need an X-ray,” she says plainly, only confirming your worst fear. “You can't drive, I'll call an ambulance.” she leans back and requests an ice pack from the rink employee standing over the two of you, observing. You're only just now noticing he was there.

“Stay calm, we don't know anything yet.” You know she's lying. You pick your head up and see your fellow competitors have stopped to watch. Most look shocked, some seem to be showing pity. You lock eyes with your friend and fellow contestant Mikasa Ackerman, her eyes well with tears as she watches you. That’s when you finally accept that your dreams are ruined.

***

You stare up at the blinding lights of the emergency room ceiling, waiting for the results the X-ray ordered to rule out a fracture. Arms folded over your chest, you simmer in the acceptance that everything you worked for your whole life is gone.

This was your first year qualifying and being invited to participate in the World Championship, you knew after your performances in the Grand Prix and Nationals that you had secured your place and a chance to take gold at Worlds. Competitive skaters everywhere spend their lives training and competing for the chance to get where you were, just as you had, only for one accident to take it all away from you and hand it off to the next person.

You blink back more tears, easily warding them off since the initial shock of everything drained you. The uncertainty of your career plagued your mind. The excitement and determination to compete was gone, replaced with the dread of agonizing failure. All you wanted to do was go home and sulk. An apartment you rented in the city chosen to host this season’s training sessions with a handful of competitors. Everything reminded you of your loss, even the place designed for you to decompress at the end of the day, your apartment was a representation of the things you endured and achieved to make it to the World Championship to begin with, now it’s just a roof over your head to house you while you heal and watch your dreams slip through your fingers like sand. You're wiping away tears with the sleeve of your shirt as the doctor enters the room.

He strides into the room, greeting you as he pinned your X-ray up and flicked the light on to illuminate the image. You pull yourself upright on the bed, even in this moment your chest fills with hope for good news. “It’s not fractured,” he says, pulling a pen from his breast pocket. You sigh out in relief. A fracture or break was the worst case scenario, and at least you’re safe from that. He lifts his arm, extending his pen out to the board and pointing at the areas of your ankle with speckled white spots “what you’re looking at is a grade two moderate ankle sprain, you have some torn ligaments” he explains, slowly circling his pen over the white spots highlighted by the bright glow behind the picture. “Based on your X-Ray, swelling, and pain level at intake, we’ll have you in a boot for two to four weeks.” Your heart sinks again, it’s not like you forgot that this injury took something from you, but you got excited too fast hearing it wasn’t as bad as you originally feared. You listen and nod as he goes through the details of the first phase of healing, just as you imagined, stay off of it, never put pressure on it, keep it iced and elevated. “After the boot comes off, you’ll start immediately with physical therapy. They will determine when you have the green light to return to your usual activities.”

You stare at him, feeling it all come back. “Physical therapy? Isn’t that a little intense for just a sprain?” You plead, your voice shaking again.

He points again to your X-ray, and those damned white streaks on your ankle. “This is not an injury to be taken lightly, I strongly recommend you stick to your treatment plan to prevent possible irreversible damage. Especially as an athlete.” He warns.

You get your boot, and you’re promptly discharged and wheeled out to coach Tarasov’s car. They help you into the passenger seat and that’s it. You’re left to face this all on your own now.

Before you leave, you hand coach your discharge documents and lean your head on the window. The sound of the pages turning as she skims through sends pangs straight to your chest. She rests a hand on your shoulder but you refuse to face her. “I’ll make the calls, I need copies of this and your X-rays” she said with caution.

You cried the entire drive home.

***

The three weeks of recovery before you’re cleared to take the boot off could be described as nothing less than hell. You barely left your bed for the first five days, you ignored calls, you didn’t take care of yourself. Your parents found out online, you only answered their persistent calls so they would stop worrying. Days started blending together quickly, when you weren’t crying you felt nothing, even your phone proved itself a shitty distraction. Your name was everywhere, the news of your injury and drop from the championship chased you on every app you used.

After a week you deleted all your social media.

The start of the second week it dawned on you that the competition was just over two weeks away, and you wouldn’t be there. It made you sick to even think about watching it and keeping up with the scores. Several times a day you wonder how you would have done had your injury never happened. Would you have taken gold? Thinking on it now, if you knew this was the alternative you would have been happy to place at all, just to be there. You took it all for granted, high on success.

At the end of the third week, you’re out of the boot and booked to start physical therapy, just this week you started eating and taking care of yourself again, you leave the blinds and windows open to let in some fresh air. Every step you take still reminds you of what you could’ve had, you walk with a limp.

***

You decide to watch the Women’s singles program only, anything more would have only twisted the knife. You watch with a bottle of wine and a box of tissues.

You feel genuinely happy to watch Mikasa perform, part of you was living through her as you watched. Mostly you’re happy she gets to experience this for herself, you know how much it means to her.

She placed 6th overall, you cried tears of joy for her.

***

You’re given an estimate of eight to twelve weeks of physical therapy. when you do the math, you can’t hold back your grin. Even the longest course of recovery would have you back on ice just in time for the start of the next skating season. You decide right then that you’ll be back on the ice competing in next year's World Championship no matter what it took.

Mid April you finish the first phase of physical therapy, three weeks of balance training taking a decent chunk of confidence from you. to put it bluntly, it was horrible. The pain was almost completely gone, it only hurt during specific exercises. Your balance was abysmal, any added weight beyond walking had your ankle shaking. You knew you could do it, you just had to make it past this part.

Early May, during strength training with your physical therapist, your phone buzzes in your pocket. After your program you excuse yourself for a much needed break and check your phone to see a text from Mikasa, you catch yourself smiling. It’s been weeks since anyone reached out to you.

Mikasa ⛸️💨

“Been too long, I miss you! Free for a quick lunch today?”

You can barely contain your happiness, it shocks you how quickly you text back, letting her know what time you’d be available, and to your surprise it works out. You agree on a location and after your session you rush home to get ready, taking extra time to ensure you don’t look like a husk of your former self when you see her for the first time in over two months.

When you approach her at the table, she stands up and immediately pulls you into a tight hug, gripping your shirt in her fists as she squeezes. You congratulate her on her placement in the championship and quickly you’re catching up on everything the two of you missed during your time apart.

“So, how’s that going?” Mikasa asks about your physical therapy after you mention that you're about half way through, almost cleared to begin off-ice sport specific exercises.

You look down, biting your lip before you respond “honestly? Not well.” You begin explaining how you’ve felt the past couple of weeks, even mentioning that you decided to return to competitive skating this upcoming July. “It doesn't feel like it’s enough. My ankle is still shit, it’s enough to gain back mobility but I can tell I’m not where I need to be.” Your voice shakes a little. Mikasa is a wonderful listener, she never breaks eye contact or interrupts, she lets you unload all your grief. “I know I can do better, they won’t let me push myself, my home based exercises are strict.” You explain.

Mikasa doesn’t say much, and that’s okay, you were happy just to be here with her after weeks of seclusion, only leaving your apartment for physical therapy. It took weight off your shoulders to talk with someone about what you were going through, and no one could understand you better in this moment than Mikasa.

When your lunch arrives the conversation dulls down to casual pleasant tidbits of information of Mikasa’s life post competition, eventually she tells you that she’s recompeting herself. You couldn’t be more happy for her.

Somewhere in the endless chatting you can tell something is on her mind, she detaches from the conversation a couple times, staring down at the table before snapping out of it and apologizing. Eventually she excuses herself. “Sorry, I’ll be right back” she promises and makes her way outside. Your brows stay knit as you crane your body to watch her walk out until she’s just out of view. You sigh when you turn back, that was definitely odd, but you decide maybe it’s best not to press when she comes back.

She’s gone for no longer than five minutes, when she sits back down it’s like nothing was ever bothering her to begin with. You’re tempted to ask but it couldn’t be too bad if she looked this relieved coming back. The two of you finish your meals and send your bills off to be paid, she grins at you from across the table.

“What?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest.

Mikasa quickly reaches in her bag, grabbing her planner and pen from the bottom and dropping it on the table, she quickly flips to one of the back pages and scribbles something down fast. “Here.” She says, ripping the sheet from its binding and sliding it across the table towards you.

You raise a brow and stare at the page that’s text side down. After a moment you finally bite “what is this?” You ask, pulling it towards you and lifting it up, looking back towards Mikasa.

“My cousin is a rehabilitation coach,” she begins, letting her excitement take over. “For competitive figure skaters. He agreed to work with you for me.”

You have no words, you just blink at her. When you finally take a quick glance at the page you notice a phone number and email address written across the page “Mikasa, this is..” you don’t know how to feel, this came up so quick “I don’t know-.. I appreciate-“

She cuts you off “Please take the offer, I insist. He has an opening.” She says “Levi’s great, high success rate. I can get you more information if you need it.”

Your heart drops into the pit of your stomach “Levi..Ackerman..?” you breathe out, now staring down at the paper in your hands. You should have known he was related to Mikasa. Hell, you don’t even know why you never thought about it to begin with. They share the same last name. “He was injured at the Olympics all those years ago.” you think aloud, unable to take your eyes off the page.

“That’s the one,” Mikasa beams “and he doesn’t like to talk about it. So maybe don’t start with that when you call him later.”

You look up from the page at Mikasa “I don’t know what to say.” Truthfully you didn’t even know rehabilitation coaches even existed, your current coach and physical therapist never mentioned that as an option.

“Don’t say anything. Just call him later, and tell me how that goes.” Her voice was firm, but her eyes were nothing but gentle.

When the two of you eventually get up and walk out together you stop in the parking lot to give Mikasa one final hug before you split again. “Thank you so much.” you whisper.

“Don’t mention it,” she replies, pulling back and letting her hands rest just above your elbows, “and don’t be a stranger anymore.”

***

When you arrive home, you catch yourself staring down at the contact information that was given to you. Nervousness didn’t even begin to describe how you felt. This wasn’t just any coach, or another physical therapist. It was Levi Ackerman. He was a part of the best figure skating pairs, finally making it to The Olympics with his partner before the accident.

You haven’t even come close to a skating rink since nearly breaking your ankle almost three months ago now. Working with a rehabilitation coach to get to your previous level of skating wasn’t even a fleeting thought. Hell, you didn’t even know those kinds of coaches existed until today. What if you were just wasting his time? Surely a coach like him is a privilege, right? Letting your nerves get the best of you, the contact info sits idly on your bedside table as you drift off into a world of ice and gold medals.

***

The next morning, your dream fresh in your mind, you grab the contact from your nightstand. Ignoring the blaring anxiety, you dial the number without too much thought. The more you think about it, the more inviting backing out feels. The dial tone sounds, causing you to begin pacing your apartment. No more blaming the injury, no more blaming the physical therapy program. You couldn’t just keep sitting around, wondering about the what ifs when you were handed a golden ticket. You’d be crazy to pass this up, even if it was just a chance.

“Took you long enough.” A rich warm voice answers the phone, stopping you dead in your tracks in the kitchen. How the hell did he even know it was you? How were you even meant to respond to a greeting like that anyway. “I was beginning to think you changed your mind.” He states

“Uh, no.” You reply quickly, tapping your fingers on the kitchen counter to give your free hand something to do. “No I didn’t change my mind, I’m interested.” you cursed yourself, trying to sound so formal. This was the type of thing coach Tarasov always took care of, you were completely out of your element.

“Great,” he says, you have trouble reading his tone but you try not to think too much of it. Over the phone you hear a series of keyboard clicks and your phone buzzes against your ear “I sent a couple things to your email,” did Mikasa already give him your information? “Go ahead and authorize your physical therapy records over, send me copies of your X-rays and prescribed treatment plan, and sign the following documents.” He lists off “after that, I’ll work up a schedule compatible with your PT, I’ll be in contact.”

If you were nervous before there wasn’t a word to describe how you feel now. “Thank you, I look forward to working with you.”

“Have a nice day.” he says in the same tone, your phone beeps to indicate the call has ended.

Taglist: @amywritesthings @littlerequiem @humanitys-strongest-bamf @hideandgopeep (please let me know if i missed you and ill add you on to ch 2)

#levi ackerman #captain levi #levi ackerman x female reader #levi ackerman x fem!reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman x reader #tw: injury #tw: depression #fic: Kintsugi

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loki-cees-all · 11 months

Text

Ch. 1 - Against the Wall {Against All Odds - TVA!Loki x Female Reader Longfic}

Cee's Loki Fic Masterlist / AO3 Link / Against All Odds Masterlist / Next Chapter

Pairing : TVA!Loki x Female Reader

Summary : The first interrogation of X-5 doesn’t go as planned, and Loki needs to blow off some steam. He returns to 1977 for a drink, and discovers that not only have his actions have left you abandoned by your date to his movie premiere - but it’s also your birthday.

Thankfully, Loki knows just how to solve both of your problems.

W/c : 4.4k words

Content Warnings : Smut, p-in-v, semi-public sex, strangers to lovers, ruffled tuxedo appreciation

Author's Note : This one is dedicated to my beloved and beautiful friend @infinitystoner as part of our Glorious Birthday Bash. Our ask boxes are open, so get those questions in!

18+ Only - Minors DNI

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Loki was absolutely seething. The Hunter X-5 - Brad, or whatever he wanted to be called, was not just uncooperative in answering their questions about General Dox’s plans - he was a complete asshole about it. And even though they knew he would be, it was still impressive just how quickly he managed to rattle all three of them and completely derail the interrogation.

It was enough to make Loki afraid that he was losing his touch, that his edges had softened too much. But after the catastrophic events he’d endured over the past few months, what else could he expect?

After leaving the interrogation room with Mobius and B-15, Loki had stormed away, his eyes blazing with fury and his fists clenching until his knuckles were white. He just needed a moment to calm himself down, to regain control of his emotions.

Truthfully, what he needed was a break, to relieve some tension and come back to his problems with a clear head. If only everything would just stop trying to implode for five minutes, he might be able to do that. But the weight of everything he needed to fix was slowly crushing him to death instead.

And that asshole thought it necessary to throw the death of Frigga in his face and call him a villain - all in the same breath. The audacity, the nerve of that man to speak to him like that - when genuinely, truthfully and in every sense of the word, Loki was only trying to fix, not harm.

Loki pushed himself further down the endless corridors of the TVA, and the anger radiating through his skin alerted the unassuming TVA employees to continue minding their own business as they slinked past him. Loki’s heavy footsteps echoed off the pristine floors and elegant walls, and he foolishly thought that maybe they’d take the hint and turn around to take a different path towards their destination. But just as soon as he would find himself alone in the hallway, another one would appear, and Loki’s rage would elevate just a little bit more.

Norns, was there nowhere to even think in this place?!

Soon, Loki found himself in another alcove with another elevator, that inevitably led to another floor with even more corridors and TVA employees who were just trying to do their jobs in the face of a Temporal Loom meltdown and total destruction. It wasn’t their fault; it was the only thing they knew how to do.

There had to be an exit around here somewhere - a courtyard, or a sidewalk, or something - any place Loki could go and not be reminded of all of this. But how long would it take him to find it?

Too long. And more likely than not, a new crisis would emerge before he could even reach it.

As he paced back and forth across the granite floor, Loki’s hands alternated between raking through his hair, clenching at his sides, and resting on his hips. His mind raced uncontrollably, and his chest heaved to keep enough oxygen mixing with the blood flowing through his veins. He was starting to feel trapped, doomed, cursed.

Loki took a deep breath to steady himself, and as he closed his eyes, his thoughts shifted to the beautiful woman he’d seen earlier that evening. Her stylish dress, pale amber and loosely cinched around her waist, had been far too enchanting to be wasted on a date to a silly movie premiere. She was much too good to be on Brad’s arm for the evening, and Loki wondered if he had even bothered to learn her name…

But ultimately, it didn’t matter. Loki didn’t have the time or the space to clear his head, and he certainly didn’t have the time to waste on thoughts of a woman he’d never see again. He was just going to have to carry on, to power through the stress and brain fog and dread, like he’d always done.

Resigning himself to return from where he came, Loki shoved his hands in the pockets of his pea coat and turned on his heels to head back to Mobius and B-15 and the interrogation of Brad. But he stopped as his fingers brushed against something, and his brow furrowed as he pulled the TemPad out of his pocket.

Loki couldn’t remember how or when it got there. He turned it over in his hands carefully, running his fingertips across its smooth edges and polished wood grain as he considered his options.

With this, he could easily find a place to think, and he could return just moments after he left the interrogation room. And with the branches of the Sacred Timeline already diverging wildly out of control, no one would ever know he had left.

Loki quickly glanced over his shoulders to make sure he was alone, and he flipped the top screen of the TemPad open. The previous coordinates were still typed in, still active.

All he had to do was press a single button and walk through the Time Door. In another moment or two, he could return to the Zaniac premiere and finally have the drink he so desperately needed.

And maybe Brad’s date would be willing to share that drink with him…

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Date : June 18th, 1977 [Sacred Timeline]

This was not how you thought your birthday would turn out.

Dressed to the nines, after hours in the salon chair getting your hair done and days of planning your outfit down to the perfume kissing the insides of your wrists - all so you could be abandoned by that jackass before the showing of his film even started.

What made it worse was you didn’t even want to be here tonight, with this Brad Wolfe - a man no one had ever heard of before six months ago but was suddenly basking in the spotlight of directors clamoring to hire him and starlets begging to be seen with him.

You could have been out with your friends celebrating your birthday, but your agent had insisted that this would be much better for your career; he was definitely going to be getting a very unpleasant phone call in the morning.

After Brad disappeared, you sat yourself at the bar and ordered a drink; it was less humiliating than the press seeing you alone inside the theater, which would have surely been the only headline in tomorrow morning’s paper.

You briefly thought about calling your friends to meet up at The Roxy, which had been the initial plan for the evening, but ultimately decided against it. Nothing could salvage the evening now; maybe you’d have better luck next year.

The ice from your second drink had all but melted, and after the leftover contents were consumed, you were ready to get out of there. The exciting climax of the movie would be happening soon, and once again the lobby would be swarming with press and London’s finest celebrities, not to mention Brad - who had probably found another woman to have clinging to his arm during the film. You didn’t need to see that.

As you thanked the bartender with a warm smile and placed a generous tip in his jar, your thoughts returned to the two men Brad had been talking to just before he disappeared. One of the men, the older gentleman, seemed pleased as punch to be there, but the other one - the tall, dark and devastatingly handsome one - seemed like he’d rather be literally anywhere else; it was exactly how you felt about this ridiculous event.

And God was that scowl on his face sexy; but then again, everything about him was positively delicious. His piercing green eyes had threatened to set the room ablaze as he looked around the room, and when he wasn’t scowling, he was smirking.

It was a very confident smirk, and he deserved to have it. He certainly knew how to wear a tuxedo, and you were sure he looked even better underneath it.

Just thinking about it was enough to make your heart race, and the warmth of arousal was beginning to unfurl itself in your core. It was too bad the most gorgeous man you’d ever seen had left already; perhaps you would head to The Roxy after all, to find someone to take you home tonight…

“Leaving so soon?”

Your breath faltered as you turned to see him standing next to you. He looked exquisite - casually leaned against the bar, one ankle crossed over the other, and one hand in his pocket as he raised an inquisitive eyebrow in your direction. You couldn’t believe this was happening, that he had appeared so suddenly and he was looking right at you.

“I suppose that depends on whether something exciting is about to happen here,” you replied with a shrug and met his inquisitive expression with one of your own.

The man chuckled and cleared his throat as he turned his attention to the rows of liquor displayed behind the bar. “And I suppose you wouldn’t think helping me decide on a drink would be very exciting…”

His voice was smooth as silk - polished and refined, and it made everything he wasn’t saying so much more intense. You could see his eyes in the mirror behind the bar, hungrily roaming up and down your form as he paused, and you knew he was thinking about all the things he wanted to do tonight.

And when he turned back to look at you, it was like you were the only other person in existence, like you were the only thing that mattered. “…or would you find that exciting?”

That look was sinful, intoxicating, teasing. It made you forget all about wanting to get out of there before the movie ended. It made you want to do anything to keep his attention, and so you sat back down on the barstool and crossed your legs as you leaned closer to him.

“Surely a classy man such as yourself knows what he likes to drink?” you replied, hoping he enjoyed being teased as much as he enjoyed teasing.

The man laughed again and shook his head with a charming smile on his perfectly-crafted face. If you didn’t know any better, you would have believed a God had sculpted his features with a careful and delicate hand, that only something majestic could have styled the dark curls on his head. He was perfect, and you were dying for him to ruin you.

“Well, I’ll be honest - I just wanted to know what you were drinking, so I could invite you to have another with me.”

He didn’t wait for a response, and immediately unbuttoned the jacket of his tuxedo as he sat down next to you. His long legs were splayed wide as he gazed at you, and he had the kind of thighs you wanted to sink your teeth in.

The white shirt underneath the jacket was stark white and perfectly pressed, save the ruffles running vertically from his throat to his waist. There weren’t too many men that could pull off that look with the same confidence and charm, and you found yourself wondering who he was and what he did for a living.

He had to work in the entertainment industry - fashion, maybe? Another actor? You wanted to know everything about him, from where he grew up to how many different ways he could make your toes curl.

“What a clever, classy pick-up line. I’m truly impressed,” you murmured playfully as you beckoned the bartender over.

The man narrowed his eyes, and his perfect lips curved into a teasing smirk. “I believe it worked, did it not?”

You shrugged innocently, bringing your fingertips to fondle the necklace dangling around your neck. His gaze followed your fingers with a hungry expression, and he opened his mouth to say something else when the bartender interrupted to take your order.

“Yes, me and my new friend…” you paused and tilted your head at him, a silent plea for the man to finally introduce himself.

His expression shifted briefly to uncertainty, as if he wasn’t sure that he wanted to give you his name at all, before resuming his confident demeanor as he met your gaze once more. “Loki. Pleased to meet you.”

“A pair of Slow Screws for me and my new friend, Loki,” you smiled at the bartender before returning to your new companion for the evening. “That’s quite an interesting name, Loki. Scandinavian?”

“Something like that. And you’ve got quite an interesting drink order,” he replied, leaning closer and sliding his arm along the back of your chair. “Tell me - do you usually share Slow Screws with complete strangers?”

His voice was low and husky, vibrating at all the right frequencies and sending shivers of excitement down your spine. It took all of your willpower to not mount him on the spot.

“Only when it’s my birthday, and I’ve been abandoned by my jerk of a date,” you answered, though truthfully you were glad he disappeared if it meant you got to know this man a little better.

Loki’s brow twitched and he looked away; it was an odd reaction, one you hadn’t anticipated. Did Loki know something about why Brad had left, and was he not expecting you to bring it up?

The bartender returned with your drinks, and you were grateful for something else to focus on for the moment. Freshly-squeezed orange juice and gin swirled around the tall glass as you brought it to your lips and took a not-so dainty sip.

Loki glanced over and smiled as he followed suit, then set his glass down and began tapping the bar-top with his long and surely skilled fingers. “You know I, um…was speaking with your date earlier, and I promise he didn’t ditch you. Something very important had come up, and…”

Loki glanced over at you again, his green eyes sparkling as if a thousand distant worlds were burning up inside them. He had an unparalleled mysterious aura around him, like the weight of the entire world was resting on his broad shoulders.

“If he sent you here to keep me company in his stead…” you interrupted, brushing your fingers across the back of his hand as he tapped mindlessly on the bar-top. “…then I’m glad he left.”

That seemed to be enough to make him forget about all of his earlier troubles, and a confident smile graced his features once more. “Well, I couldn’t leave a beautiful woman all alone on her birthday, now could I?”

Loki rotated his hand underneath yours, and his fingertips lightly traced along your inner wrist, sending your heart rate skyrocketing. He leaned closer to whisper against your ear. “So how does the birthday girl want to celebrate then, hmm?”

Your breath hitched, and it felt like the rest of the world stopped except for the two of you. You wanted to spend your evening dissolving into pleasure, screaming his name, breaking your bed - but this man clearly loved innuendos and teasing; it was foreplay for him, just as much as it was for you.

“Well, I’ve always wanted to try…a Slow Comfortable Screw Against The Wall,” you answered softly, knowing he would understand that you didn’t necessarily mean the drink.

Loki’s arm slipped around your chair once more, dragging his knuckles down the back of your arm. “Is that how you like it?”

Your eyes widened, and your heart thudded painfully in your chest. But it was worth it if it meant he’d do it, so you nodded as you bit your lower lip.

“Slow…and comfortable?” Loki continued, whispering softly and letting his lips brush against the cartilage of your ear.

Swallowing back a moan was the hardest thing you’d ever done. Your thighs pressed together, squeezing them against your already wet cunt and nodded again.

“What about against the wall? Do you like that too?” Loki brought his other hand up, tracing the angle of your jaw with his fingertips and turning your face closer to his.

Your lips parted as your nose brushed against his, and you silently pleaded for mercy. Your pussy was already throbbing and clenching around nothing, and if you didn’t get out of here soon, you were going to explode.

A simple yes was all you could manage, and Loki immediately took action. He pulled a few bills from his pocket and tossed them on the bar as he stood up, and you absolutely could not believe your luck - that he came back, that he wanted you, that he was going to take you exactly the way you wanted.

You quickly followed him to standing, and your knees almost buckled underneath the weight of the adrenaline and hormones carving their way through your veins. Loki placed his hand on your lower back and guided you swiftly through the crowd that had returned after the movie’s end.

And you didn’t even turn your head as you passed by reporters milling about in the lobby, wondering where the hell Brad Wolfe was.

As you stepped outside, Loki’s hand slipped from your waist to grab your hand and pull you after him. You thought he was going to lead you to a cab, but instead, he turned down the alleyway beside the theater.

“Wait - where are we going?” you giggled in anticipation as he squeezed your hand. Did he have his own vehicle parked somewhere back here?

Loki turned around and yanked you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist as he continued backing down the alleyway. “I’m giving the Birthday Girl what she asked for. Remember?” he murmured against your lips as his hands splayed wide on your hips.

You couldn’t take the wait any longer and crushed your lips against his. Loki’s groan was deep and powerful as he eagerly returned the kiss. His lips tasted like gin and lust, and his hands gripped you tightly, pulling you all the way against his body.

Your hands found the lapels of his tuxedo jacket, pulling on the material as you parted your lips around his. He eagerly slipped his tongue between them as he started to walk you backwards.

Loki towered over you, even with your heels on, and soon his lips were moving down to your neck, sucking on the delicate skin as his hands slid down to squeeze your ass. You gasped, and immediately started to unbutton his tuxedo jacket.

He hummed an approval against your neck, and his hands grasped your ass harder, making you grind your hips against his. “I thought the Birthday Girl wanted it slow and comfortable, hmm?”

“Changed my mind,” you whispered breathlessly, opening the jacket and untucking his shirt from his pants. “I need you now…”

Loki grinned as he pushed you against the wall, trapping you between the firm, cold bricks and his firm, warm body. “Ah, so you’re an impatient Birthday Girl,” he growled against your lips.

This new tone, so wild and animalistic compared to the opulent and sophisticated one he had used back at the bar, was more than enough to make you forget that you were in public, that he was a stranger, that if anyone saw this then your career would be over. But you were being driven by pure lust at this point, and nothing else mattered anymore.

Your lips met again, moving frantically against each other as your tongues and hips writhed together. It was incredible that your bodies and minds were already so in sync with each other - when you moaned against his lips, he’d groan against yours, and when you gasped, he’d exhale in a deep hum that threatened to drive you insane.

He pulled the strap of your dress down as you untied the knot of his bowtie and began to loosen the buttons of his shirt. Loki kissed his way down your neck and you arched into his touch, even as your hair snagged on the bricks behind you.

You quickly slipped your arm out of the strap, and Loki slid the top of your dress down to your waist, exposing your breasts. Your nipples hardened from arousal and the cold evening air, and Loki leaned down to take one between his lips. You moaned out loud in response, encouraging him to keep going as you spread your legs to grind against his thigh.

His tongue flicked against your stiff nipple as he sucked, and your fingers curled tightly in his hair as you hooked a leg around his waist. Your hips gyrated wildly against him, soothing your aching clit as you chased a release.

“Oh, yes. Keep going, love,” Loki groaned against your skin and shifted his hands to keep you balanced on one leg, gripping your hips tightly as he brought his face back up to yours.

He pushed his leg further between yours, watching eagerly as you continued grinding against his thigh. You gasped and moaned breathlessly, each one louder than the last as the alleyway faded away and all that remained was the stranger bringing you ethereal levels of pleasure.

“Yes, that’s it. Come for me, dear,” Loki rasped as he brought his lips over to your ear, and his teeth nipped at the cartilage as he spoke. “I’ll give you more - as many as you wish…”

You could barely hear him as blood pumped frantically through every vein and every nerve ending prepared to fire off, but it seemed as though he was getting as much pleasure out of this as you were. What a blessing this was - it was your birthday, and this man only wanted to make you come.

You gasped as your orgasm washed over you, sending endorphins and molten lava through your veins. Your fingers dug into his neck and shoulders, and your leg shook and wobbled as you died and reborn anew.

Loki moaned with you as you came, his hands grabbing your hips to keep them rolling against his thigh. Your eyes rolled back into your head and unintelligible whimpers of pleasure tumbled from your lips. And just as the orgasm started to fade, his hands slipped around the back of your thighs to lift you up.

Somehow you managed to lock your arms around his neck as he held you in the air, and he hooked his forearms underneath your knees as your bare back scraped against the brick. It hurt so good, and you buried your face in his hair, breathing in his scent and savoring the way he was going to ravage you.

Loki grabbed your ass as he rolled his hips against yours, both of you moaning in unison at the skin-to-skin contact. His heavy exhales washed over your skin as he panted against your jaw, and you were still trembling from the aftershocks of the first orgasm when his cock slid inside you.

He groaned in pleasure as he pushed deeper within your soaked cunt, and your toes curled inside your shoes. You hadn’t even seen his cock yet, but you could feel just how perfect it was, how perfect he was - and you couldn’t help but squeeze as he bottomed out inside you.

“Such a tight and lovely little thing,” Loki hissed as he started to thrust, slowly at first but quickly increasing his pace. His hips rocked back and forth, and your fingers scratched at his scalp to beg him to keep going.

He held you in the air, easily supporting your entire weight as he drove himself into you over and over. It was like magic, he was like a benevolent God of Pleasure, and you would forever worship the ground he walked on as long as he continued doing this to you.

You buried your face against his shoulder to muffle your cries of pleasure as he filled you up, and his lower back arched as his thrusts became frantic. You moaned his name and he moaned yours, and his fingers gripped you tightly as yours dug into his neck.

“Yes! Come for me, darling!” Loki growled against your ear as he adjusted your hips, pulling them away from the wall. His thrusts became urgent, and this new angle allowed him to move deeper, pressing against the most sensitive flesh that other men could only dream of reaching.

You crossed the threshold again, coming even harder than you did the first time. Loki grunted like an animal as he made his final pushes inside you before following you off the edge. Your thighs shook as his hips bucked, and your muscles squeezed every ounce of pleasure out of him.

The sounds he made were sinful, and it was almost enough to keep you going. Neither of you were on Earth anymore; floating in the cosmos, higher than you’d ever been before, your hips writhing and mouths gasping for air as you came together.

You don’t know how long you stayed like that, but eventually your bodies became still, and you could feel his lips pressed lazily against your jaw and his eyelashes fluttering against your cheek. “You have no idea…just how much…I needed that…” he murmured breathlessly.

You could feel the gravity of his words bringing you back down to the ground, and while you didn’t know what he was referring to, you wished that you could. “I’m glad you convinced me to stay for that drink then…”

Loki chuckled to himself as he pressed his forehead against yours and carefully pulled the strap of your dress back to your shoulder. His fingertips were delicate as they traced along your collarbone, and as his eyes traveled up to meet your gaze, you could see a thousand lifetimes of sadness hiding behind them.

“Thank you…for the drink, and the birthday present. Maybe we can do this again for your birthday…” you continued with a smile, hoping to be able to see him again soon. You didn’t know if he needed the reassurance, but you wanted to give it to him anyway.

He didn’t respond at first, and you gently caressed his cheek. This evening was too magical to not let it happen again, and you prayed that he felt the same.

Loki’s expression was one of anguish as he turned his head to kiss your palm. He let out a heavy exhale, and forced himself to look at you again.

“Yes. Maybe we can…” Loki smiled as he gazed into your eyes, and your heart ached as he leaned down to kiss you once more.

⊱ ── ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅ ── ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ── ⊰

Cee's Loki Fic Masterlist / AO3 Link / Against All Odds Masterlist / Next Chapter

Click here to be added to my Loki fic tag list! 💚

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secret-smut-sideblog · 7 months

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Unpunishable

Astarion x F! Tav

(Girl Talk part 4, can be read alone)

18+ love triangle dynamics, possessiveness, blood drinking, tav being a menace, dom/brat, angry sex, power play, fingering (f!), mild restraint, spanking, spitting, p-in-v, prostate orgasm, some silly fun at the end

After Karlach spent the night with Tav, Astarion is feeling very normal about it. So normal that he needs her in his tent all night. Just to feed, he swears...

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

"You can feed from me tonight, if you'd like."

Her words were sweet, alluring. He knew he should express gratefully, but he was tight. Breathing through his nose.

"I'll see you tonight, then." He intoned in his best pantomime of casual.

Pretending he didn't see her emerge from Karlach's tent this morning. That he didn't go back to his tent to scream into his pillow.

Oh gods, no, no. Why had he waited?

Well, he knew. Fate had aligned against him, like it always does. He had planned to tell her, he truly had. But then she had nearly drowned. By his own idiotic actions, to boot.

Some god truly had a vendetta against him, he just wasn't sure which.

He tried to reassure himself, watching her mill around camp, it didn't appear they were together. Yet, anyway. They exchanged sly glances but beyond that their chatter was relatively the same.

Maybe he still had a chance.

Oh who was he kidding, it's Karlach. He's done for.

No. No, he couldn't give up.

Tonight, he had her for tonight.

Watched as her long legs kicked out in front of her as she sat down, leaning conspiratorial to whisper something in Shadowheart's ear. Saw the cleric's cheeks go red.

Feeling his eyes she glanced up, smiling cat-like at him. Pulling her hair over her shoulder. Tipping her head back slightly, beckoning him.

Gods below, he was in over his head.

Her face smeared with a smile, arms coming up. Arcane power pulsing wicked through her. "Umbra!"

Their enemies were swallowed in darkness. A flash of red hair as she dove in. The sounds of thrashing death from the darkness.

He pulled his focus back to the light, firing down on those on the outskirts. Pointedly ignoring the sounds of her viciously tearing into bodies.

He had asked before why she could still see in her spell.

"Ironic, isn't it?" She had laughed, pointing to her demonic eyes. "The blind leading the blind, truly. Well, previously blind. It's the Devil's Sight." Leaning on her hip, flourishing with her fingers. "What can I say, I'm thorough. I intended to never be without sight again, and I meant it."

He knew it went deeper than that, if her reaction to Volo's "help" was any indication.

When he had pulled a needle from his pack she grabbed his wrist tightly. Her normally charismatic eyes tight with icy rage. Sitting up.

"You are not putting that in my eye." Her voice a hiss, grip tightening.

Volo had flinched, endless apologetic words flowing from his mouth.

She had reminded him of their other Drow, Minthara, in that moment. Could see the same cold controlled anger in her. He understood why they were close. Both Drow nobility. Both raised with the same frigid hand.

The more he got to know about her, the deeper the rabbit hole went.

Now, their enemies were felled and he let out a relieved sigh. They had gotten into a powerful rhythm of combat, all knowing their role and executing it well. But that didn't guarantee victory.

She emerged from the dark, absolutely soaked in blood. Shaking the excess off of her blade with a flick of her wrist. Her usually neatly pinned hair falling out of its plaits. Chest huffing with exertion.

Gods below spare him.

"Call off?" She shouted, eyes scanning.

Since she fought almost entirely in darkness, she usually didn't know how the others had fared. So they worked out a system.

"Aye!" Karlach called cheerfully.

"Aye!" Minthara growled, pulling her greataxe out of a body with a grunt.

"Aye!" He called, more breathily than he meant to.

She smiled at him. "Excellent. Good job, all. Though I had no doubts."

"Minthara, check for injuries. Karlach, take account of the dead, throw any scrolls to me. Astarion, help me with this locked chest."

He let out a great sigh, pretending to be put upon.

She leaned into his play, looking at him with great pleading eyes. "Astarion, pleaaase~"

He could never tell her how shockingly effective that was on him.

"Alright, you child. Step aside." She laughed, stepping away with a flourish of her hand.

He crouched down, taking out his tools with sure hands. Beginning his ministrations.

"You know," He jumped at her voice in his ear, her warm body crouched behind his. "You make this look so easy, surely it must be harder?"

He resisted the shiver that sat at the bottom of his spine. Her velvet voice directly in his ear.

Of course she was still drenched in blood. She knew what she was doing, the she-devil.

"I assure you, it's difficult for most." He huffed, focusing back on his work.

"Hmm, do you think I could do it if I practiced?" She murmured, he could hear the smile in her voice. "I've been known to have very nimble fingers."

He nearly dropped his tools. Memories of their first night assaulting his mind. Regained composure.

"I'm sure you'd make a fine locksmith, darling. Now if you don't mind." His voice was snippy, irritation thinly veiling his arousal.

Always teasing him. Gods he wanted to push her against a wall.

Shook his head slightly. No. Less of those thoughts. Focus.

"Oh, you're no fun today." She giggled, rising to feet. He immediately felt the absence of her body.

"Prickly, I'll have to watch that I don't nick myself." At the word nick, she waved her wrist past his face as she passed. Rejoining their companions with a look at him over her shoulder.

Oh he was going to take her apart tonight.

He paced in his tent. So many emotions crashing around inside him. Longing, fear, anger, desire. And the one that surprised him the most; possession. That had been at the forefront of his mind shockingly often.

He wanted her. Badly. And he wanted her to himself.

He had a great fondness in his heart for Karlach but if it came down to it, he wanted it to be him.

Rest assured, he wouldn't go down without a fight, and he didn't fight fairly.

The flap of his tent lifted slightly, her white eyes asking for entry.

"There you are." He purred as she stepped inside.

She tied down the fabric. The universal sign of do not disturb.

Oh?

His dead heart raced a little.

"Well, are we planning for more than a feeding tonight?" He stepped closer, smirking.

She pulled the pins in her hair, kicking off her boots. Shaking her head, her red hair fell and bounced down to the base of her spine. Her eyes cutting up to his.

Hells below it wasn't fair.

"If you play your cards right. Now help me with my armor."

He stepped forward and she turned her back to him. Pulling her hair away for him.. His quick fingers went to work on the buckle on her shoulder.

The smell of her well-oiled leather breastplate, the blood still caught in its creases. The oils in her hair, something sweet. Appleblossom.

"...Are you smelling me?"

He sputtered, heat rushing to his neck. "Certainly not. Gods."

He saw contained laughter in her shoulders as he lifted her breastplate off. She sighed in relief, stretching.

"I don't mind." She turned her head slightly, winking at him. "I'm sure your keen senses tell you a lot. Don't they?"

She stepped back into him, sliding her head into the side of his face.

He leaned in then, giving in completely. Eyes closing, breathing in like she was the most enthralling perfume. If he could bottle it, he would wear it on his wrist.

His hands came up to pull at her hair, nuzzling down into the curve of her neck. A small moan in his throat. Exquisite.

She kicked off the last of her armor, now in her damp underclothes, still sweaty from their fight earlier that day. Her musk coming to swirl into the heady bouquet.

"How do you want me?" She asked, sighing and leaning her head back.

That question send a quick shock of pleasure into his already hard cock.

"Down. Down with me." He pushed on the back of her knees with his own.

She kneeled down with him, straddling around her back. Pressing his erection hard into her lower back. Making his intentions clear.

This was the first time he had taken charge between them and it sent a delicious thrill up his spine.

He bit down into her with a groan. Pulling her into his throat in pulses. Her taste sending his eyes into the back of his head. He would never get used to it.

Her little sighing whimper stroking down his cock.

He latched on harder with a growl, his frustration brought to the surface again. How many times did he have to bite her to make it clear that she was his to the others?

His.

That she felt the need to seek out other bodies. Oh he would make her certain that she needn't do that tonight.

He pulled off with great effort, laving his tongue obscenely up her neck. They had more pressing matters to attend to.

"So I couldn't help but notice," He started, fingers trailing up her arm. "That you spent the night with our sweet Karlach."

"I did." She agreed, pushing her ass back into him cheekily. Subtly moving her hips up and down. "Do you have any feelings about that you'd like to share?"

He expected her to deny it, to get flustered. He should know better by now.

Gods below, he wished he could warn that idiot on the beach that he was about to walk into the vipers' den.

"Feelings?" He intoned, playing up for time.

"Mhm," She hummed, reaching up and playing with his ear. Her skilled hands pulling, the sensitive skin betraying him. He stifled a moan.

"Would you have liked to join?" She smiled, giving a little tug.

The band of frustration snapped inside him. Catching her wrist into his hand.

She gasped and he could smell a new wave of arousal rising from her.

"No. I did not." He growled.

"As a matter of fact," He hissed, pulling her hair in his fist. Her neck bending open to him. "I was not pleased to see that at all."

She moaned, arching her back. "No?" Her voice coming out hot. "Not into sharing?"

He reached around her front. Pulling her chest wrappings off in a harsh flick of his wrist. Falling away into her lap.

"Not even a little, darling." He warned, directly into her ear.

Fingers twisting her peak. "I intend to make you mine."

She shivered, much to his delight.

"Prove it." She hissed, turning her head just enough to look in his eyes. That devilish smile on the edge of her lips.

He shoved the space between her shoulder blades, pushing her face down into his pillow. Hiking her hips up.

She groaned, then laughed. Laughed.

He growled, pulling her underclothes down roughly. His hand snapping hard down on her ass.

She mewled, burying her face in his pillow.

Oh now we're getting somewhere.

He struck the reddening skin again, the crack of his hand hanging in the air. Seeing the wetness start to drip down her cunt.

"You evil little thing." He chided. "Are you going to be good?"

She hooked her legs around his knees, pulling him off balance for fun.

"Hmm, I'll consider it." She mused.

He reached around her front, fingers circling against her clit, other hand pushing two fingers inside her. Fast and angry. She moaned, pushing her hips into him.

"You'll consider it..." He repeated, goading in his voice.

He thought about how she had him in the same position not long ago. Felt a thrill of fresh arousal fire down his cock.

He blurred his hands against her clit, curling his fingers and slamming inside her.

She arched her back up like a cat, her hands held out to balance her curling. Little choppy breaths.

"Astarion," She moaned, nearly whimpering.

Oh that was doing it for him. Pre-cum pooling in his leathers.

"Say my name again, or I stop."

She hit her fist against the ground in frustration, not wanting to give in. He smiled wide. Oh, he could get her to play his game by the rules.

His hands started to slow in warning.

"Astarion!" She whined, incredulous. That same tone when she asked for help earlier.

He started back up again dutifully. Her shooting daggers at him. Giving her a smug preening smile.

She was rocking back into him, sweet little urgent moans pushing out of her. He loved to hear her sing for him. Him and only him.

"Tell me you'll only make these sounds for me." He leaned forward into her ear.

"Is that what you want?" She panted, hand coming up to cup his head.

"Yes." He bit at her ear. Hands punishing.

"Swear it."

She panted, nearly there. The smell of her blood burning with heat.

"I swear. Now fuck me like you hate me."

He groaned, his cock throbbing against her backside. Suddenly remembering that she had never taken a man before. His arousal doubling.

He released his cock from its painful cage. Lining up to her with as much restraint as he could muster.

Planted a hand on her lower back. His cock steadying at her entrance.

"Hold on, darling."

She slammed back, sheathing herself on him to the hilt. He groaned, nearly buckling over.

Gods below, she was going to kill him.

"All out of venom?" She teased.

"Do I need to gag you?" He held her hips harshly, restraining her. Rolling into her at a punishingly slow pace.

"You can try." She moaned, gripping his length. Clenching down around him in pulses. The languid pace making her shake.

He gripped down on her hair again, fisting it at her scalp. Pulling her head back.

Saw her smile, eyes closing in pleasure. Hips meeting his in rhythm. Finally giving in to him.

But he wasn't done with her.

He leaned over her back. "Look at me."

She opened her eyes, those haunting white eyes. Filled with desire for him, pupils blown wide.

"Open your mouth."

She looked surprised but obliged dutifully. Those perfect plush lips falling open.

He spat into her mouth.

He saw her eyes hitch back, clenching down hard around him. Knew her orgasm was close behind.

He said her name sharply as he slammed into her, pulling her hair again. "You look at me while I fuck you through this."

She nodded, swallowing his spit. Face flushed.

Gods now he could barely keep his eyes open.

Her face cringed in what looked like pain. Eyebrows knitting together. Keeping her eyes open with what looked like great effort.

"Oh Gods," She whined, as the first contractions hit.

He focused on keeping pace but it was a futile effort. Her cunt taking him at the rapid pace of her undoing.

He felt his own face screw up in pleasure. Her eyes still locked on his.

Whimpering and begging moans pushing through her. Body shaking against him deeply.

"Please come, Astarion." She urged, her voice so sweet.

He could hold off no longer. Hearing his name said like that again the match striking to the powder keg.

His pelvis contracting in vicious pulses. His body remembering her pleasures had activated his prostate without touch. Those same hard tremors shooting through him. He spilled inside her in unbearable pulses. He bit down on his arm to not scream. Coming so hard he saw stars, and then coming more after that. Unable to maintain eye contact anymore, his rolling back into his head.

"Oh Gods. Fuck." He groaned into the muffle of his bloody arm. The pleasure finally winding down.

She squeezed his thigh reassuringly as she panted, head fallen into the pillow.

He pulled out of her slowly. Groaning at the obscene amount of his spend pouring down her backside.

Gods he didn't know he had that much.

He grabbed a cloth and wiped it away from her. Though he would love to stare at it for hours.

"Oh thank you," She purred tiredly, smiling at him. "What a gentleman."

She sat back on wobbly legs, reaching for her clothes.

He grabbed her wrist.

"What are you doing, darling?"

"Getting dressed." She said simply. Looking at him confused. "Don't worry you'll be free of me soon." She said easily.

Gods below how did she still think he didn't want her.

He pulled her into a searing kiss.

She squeaked in surprise.

"I Don't."

Bite.

"Want you."

Bite.

"To leave."

She moaned quietly into his mouth, wrapping her legs around his back.

"You're sure?" She asked, eyes soft. Melting him through.

"For the love of... yes!" He admonished, to her little smile. Biting her lip.

Blushing.

He never thought he would see the day.

"So you want to be my boooyfriend~"

"Oh Gods, I'm regretting this already."

"You liiiiike me~"

"Yes, you demon." He grabbed at her waist, biting at her playfully.

She squealed out a laugh. Trying to get away. "No biting! No biting!"

"A little late for that, don't you think?" He laughed. Digging his fingers into her sides to reignited laughter. Wiggling to get away.

"No! I'm ticklish!"

"Oh, you've made a grave mistake, admitting that." He leaned down and nipped at her sides.

He smiled evilly at her hands shoving his head, her mouth open wide in a gasping laugh.

He could get used to this.

(okay I think this is the last one of these, I hadn't planned to make this a series but the gods of smut took my hand. thank ya'll for all the feedback on this series!!!)

#i love a tav who can put him through his paces #put that man in a situation. and the situation is madness induced sex #astarion smut #astarion x tav #lyrics from: take me back to eden - sleep token

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mostlymarvelsstuff · 10 months

Text

To Call You Mine, Drabble #2: Trauma

Authors note: Takes place after Drabble #1, but before Ch 10

Summary: Nat has a hard day after you're called into work on your day off by Tony. And you are reminded of the hurt and pain Bruce inflicted upon your beautiful Omega.

Warnings: talk of past domestic violence/assault, ptsd

Word count: 3776

Nat Masterlist Marvel Masterlist TCYM Masterlist

Natasha jolts awake to the sound of your phone ringing and not realizing that it has already awoken her, you quickly toss the covers aside and walk a fair distance away before groggily answering.

“Hello?.....Okay…..Yeah, I can be there…..See you soon”

You turn around with the intent to wake your mate and explain what was going on only to find her already starting to sit up with her sleep filled eyes staring at you. You sigh, regretting that your pregnant Omega was now awake so early due to your phone.

“I’m sorry, my love” you apologize, sitting down on her nest again

She does her best to steady her heart rate and breathing before speaking, “What- what's going on?”

“That was Tony. Unfortunately one of the security guards that was scheduled to be in today has had a major family emergency, and I’m the only one that answered his call, so it looks like I’ll be heading into work today”

“Oh…okay”

You immediately pick up on her unease, which was likely due to the fact that you hadn’t had to go into Stark Industries for a full day of work since her pregnancy. And even before that you’d never had to go in on such a short notice, which gave her time to make plans with the likes of: Yelena, Clint, Wanda or Carol.

“Omega, are you okay?” you ask, worried she’ll be upset at your departure

“Yes, I just…I’m not used to being alone. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, it's ok love.” you soothe, cupping her face, “I'm sorry I have to go in, you know I’d rather be here with you. But we can video chat on my lunch break, ok?”

“Okay, thank you Alpha”

“Of course” you say with a nod before leaning in to kiss her temple, “Now I need to get ready. I’ll wake you to say goodbye if you fall back asleep”

“Okay” she answers, though she knows the likelihood of that happening is low as she’ll be too anxious thinking about the possibilities of what she’ll do without you and any friends for the day

Sure enough, when you get out of your very fast shower ten minutes later she is still wide awake and staring at the ceiling. Your heart aches at the scene, but unfortunately you don’t have the time to dwell on it as you need to get dressed. You head to the closet and get your black suit, white dress shirt and black tie out. You grab a pair of boxers and slide them on before putting the rest of your attire on.

As you take a seat on the side of your bed to slide on your shoes she gets up from the nest and makes her way over to sit next to you. She leans her head against your shoulder and lets out a sigh, as she's not quite ready to without your presence. You pause what you're doing and wrap an arm around her waist to hold her even closer. She takes this gesture a step farther by wrapping her arms around your neck as she buries her face against your collarbone.

Your hold on her tightens a bit as you rub soothing circles into her back, “Do you want me to try calling anyone? That way you don’t have to be alone?”

She shakes her head, “No, don’t wanna bother anyone. I’ll be ok, I’ll just miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too, detka(baby)” you assure her, kissing the top of her head

She kisses your neck in return before pulling away to kiss you properly. She smiles against your lips when she feels your hand reach down to caress her belly, and she wonders if you even realize you do that now. Maybe it’s something you do due to a subconscious protective instinct, or maybe you actively do it as a form of comfort for the both of you. Whatever the cause, she enjoys the extra bit of affection.

“I love you”

“I love you too, Y/n” she responds, tightening her hold on you for a bit before finally letting go, “Drive safe”

“I will. Try and head back to bed for a bit, okay? It's still early”

She nods and watches you head out of the bedroom before she climbs back into her nest. She waits to hear the door that leads to the garage close before allowing herself to curl up under the covers once more. She's unsure how much rest she’ll manage to get without you beside her, but the knowledge that the sun hasn’t even begun to peak over the horizon tells her that she at least needs to try.

At some point she had been able to drift back asleep, as she's now awoken to see the sunlight spilling through the gaps in the blinds accompanied by the gentle coos of her pup coming through the monitor.

Gently rubbing the swell of her belly she speaks softly to her unborn pup, “We better get up, your brother must be hungry”

She lazily stretches before getting out of her nest to head up to Dimas room. But as she starts to walk up the stairs, she becomes aware of the familiar feeling of anxiety bubbling in her chest. She feels a bit silly, because there wasn’t a reason for it. This is her home, and she was safe here, as are her pups. And she's a grown Omega, therefore she's capable of being without her Alpha for a few hours. Besides, Bruce didn’t want pups to raise them, but as a form of control so she was usually left to her own devices anyway. So what was the difference? She's used to this, she’ll be fine.

As she enters her pups room a soft smile takes over her features and his excited noises momentarily take her mind off of her anxious thoughts. She heads over to his nest and picks him up and places a kiss on one of his chubby little cheeks as takes him over to his changing table.

“Good morning malen'kiy(little one)” she coos as she undresses him and begins to change his diaper, “Mama had to work, so it’s just the two of us today”

A soft little meow from the doorway reminds Nat that her statement is actually wrong, and she looks over apologetically to the kitten that is strutting into the room

“Sorry Liho. It's the three of us”

After changing her pups diaper and putting him in a suitable outfit, she takes him downstairs for breakfast. She doesn't plan on making anything too extravagant, just some scrambled eggs with ham chunks for Dima and an omelet for herself.

Normally when cooking she lets him play in the living room, in his bouncer or playpen while the tv plays one of his shows. But today, for some strange reason, she just doesn’t feel good about that. So instead she sets him up in his highchair at the table instead and sets up her phone so he can watch something while she cooks.

After she's fed him, and herself, she heads into the living room where she settles down on the sofa. She scrolls through the guide until she finds a show to watch and then she leans back and allows her boy to suckle. Once he's gotten his fill of her milk she sets him down in his playpen with a few of his toys with the intent to let herself relax, but she just can’t seem to.

She feels a bit restless, and there's a nagging in the back of her mind that just keeps repeating that she needs to keep an eye on Dima. So, being one to not ignore any of her instincts, she listens. She settles down on the floor next to the pups playpen to ensure she's within arms reach should anything occur, and she allows her show to become mere background noise as she starts to play with him.

After a while Dimas interest shifts from playing with his toys to the tv, so Nat reluctantly stands and moves back over to the couch to grab the remote. She switches the channel to some cartoons for him, not like she’d been paying attention to what she’d put on for herself anyway, and decides to try and relax a bit. She's not usually so on guard, and she's wondering if it might be something new her pregnancy hormones have brought on. She knows its normal to be more protective and possessive while with pup, but- THUMP

Her head immediately swivels in the direction of the sudden noise, and she's almost certain she can feel her heart beating through her ribcage. She waits a moment, straining her ears to pick up any other sounds that could be perceived as out of the norm, but she doesn’t hear anything more. She quickly grabs her phone and opens up Carol's contact before she rises to her feet and quietly makes her way in the direction she believes the noise came from.

When she gets closer to your home office she spots the perpetrator, Liho, who is perched atop your large bookshelf. Undoubtedly it hitting the wall as she jumped up there is what caused the earlier sound. But this fact does little to calm the Omega. Her pulse is still racing as she turns to head back to the living room, and when she realizes she can no longer hear her pup from her current location, she practically sprints back.

She pockets her phone and rushes to him, carefully picking him up to assess him. He smiles wide and excitedly kicks his feet upon seeing his Mama, and she lets out a sigh of relief. She keeps him in her arms as she sits back down on the sofa, and tries her best to become calm again. Or at least, as calm as she had been before Liho made her mind and heart race.

He’s okay. She internally assures herself, cupping his chubby little cheek in her hand. She then moves that same hand to her bump and gently caresses it. We’re okay. She takes a deep breath in an attempt to help herself calm down and after a while it seems to have worked. True she's still on edge, but the feeling of dread is back to the level it had been earlier when she awoke.

Despite having to take care of and entertain Dima, the next few hours had gone by incredibly slowly for your mate. She's sure this had to do with how much she missed your presence along with the anxiety that's still simmering in the back of her brain, and she finds herself wishing that you’d only had to work half a day today. Still, she's at least thankful that you’ll be able to call her on your lunch break. Which should be any second now.

As if on queue her phone rings and the quickly mutes the tv before answering, “Hi, my love”

“Hi detka(baby)” you greet, smiling as her face takes up your phone screen, you missed her more than you expected to. But you had a feeling she was feeling the same, “Everything going alright at home?”

She had debated on telling you the truth of how poorly she was handling her anxiety today, but as soon as she saw your face on her screen she decided against it. She could already see you were stressed, the furrow between your brows and the tightness of the muscles in your neck showed her that much. And the last thing she wanted to do was add to that by causing you to worry about her.

“Lihos been a bit mischievous today, but were doing good”

“I’m glad to hear that” you admit, and Natasha watches as your shoulders relax, in turn causing her to relax a bit. “You had something for breakfast, right?”

She nods, “Yes, of course. I made an omelet for myself while I mad Dimas eggs and ham”

“Good. You'll be happy to know that I grabbed myself a breakfast sandwich from the corner bakery on the way into work”

She smiles, knowing how hard it was for you to remember to eat something when you were up so early, “Did you get sausage or bacon on it?”

“Both” you answer, causing her to chuckle, “Any plans for lunch?”

She's about to respond, but she is cut off by a rather incessant knocking that she can only assume is coming from your office door. Your jaw tightens as you look over in the direction of your door and she can clearly tell this interruption has frustrated you.

“One second love” you tell her, setting the phone down to go and deal with whoever it was. She can’t help but fidget while you're away, her mind busy with thoughts of how to help soothe you once you return home to her. She's so lost in these thoughts that you had to call her name a few times to regain your attention.

“Are you sure you're alright, my Omega?” you ask, a hint of worry evident in your tone

She swallows the lump of truth in her throat that's threatening to surface, “Yes Alpha, just got distracted checking on Dima, that's all.”

You nod, “Well, thankfully that was just Happy with my lunch. Tony ordered me my favorite since I had to come in today”

“That was nice of him” she says, glad that you could at least enjoy that if nothing else today

“Mhm” you agree, unwrapping your sandwich, “What will you two be having?”

“I haven’t decided yet” she answers. Because truthfully shed been too excited to hear from you on your break to focus on anything else lunch related

You smile at that, causing her to look at you quizzically, “Well, good. Because I ordered the two of you something. It should be there by the time we have to hang up”

“Y/n, you didn’t have to do that”

You wave her off, “Nat, baby, your at home taking care of our pup while with pup. The least I could do is provide you both with a meal so you don’t have to cook. Besides, Tony offered to buy”

She smiles at both your bosses generosity and yours, “Well thank you Alpha, and be sure to thank Tony for me too”

“I will. Now I should go so I don’t have to inhale everything before I’m back on shift” you joke, but she can tell by the slight downturn of your lips that you didn’t truly want to go

“Alright, I love you”

“I love you too, Natty.” you respond, blowing her a kiss in order to see her smile again, “I’ll see you in a few hours”

She lets out a sigh after hanging up with you. In her current headspace, a few hours was likely to feel more like an eternity. But at least she didn’t have to worry about lunch now. And true to your word, a knock sounds at the door then. She answers it and retrieves the food, setting it at the table before bringing Dima into the dining room too. She opens the bags to find its all from her favorite Italian place and that you had gotten her several different dishes to ensure that she could have a bit of everything now and still have some for later cravings. If this didn’t improve her mood she didn’t know what would.

You sigh as you finally pull into the driveway, a bit more tired than usual due to last night's troublesome sleep and the emergency shift that you’d been called into this morning. It definitely took a toll on you that no cups of coffee had been able to fix, and you couldn’t wait to just get inside to see your pup and Omega.

You stretch after getting out of the car and then make your way into the house, doing your best to not trip over Liho as she excitedly circles your feet. You bend down to pet her a few times before gently shooing her further into the house. You were happy to see her, but you really wanted to see your Omega. And Dima too of course.

When you enter the kitchen, you see her. Her back is to you as she stands at the sink, apparently doing a few dishes while Dima sits in his bouncer that's been moved to the dining room so she can still keep an eye on him. Now that you're here with them again, you can finally feel yourself relax. Knowing they had been alone here today had your protective instincts going into overdrive at work. You’d nearly pelted the Beta that got too close to Pepper and Morgan as he walked past you all in the hallway, and they weren’t even yours

“God I missed you” you breathe out, cutting through the peaceful silence with an innocent declaration of affection you hope will warm your mates heart

But instead you only succeed in startling her. You watch her body jolt as she spins around to face you, sending the mug that had been in her hands spiraling down to the tile floor below. The sound of it shattering has her eyes widening even more than they had been and this was her anxieties final straw. She couldn’t upset you, she just couldn’t. You’d had such a long day full of stress and you had still managed to care for her and Dima. And here she was greeting you by causing a scene and a mess. She couldn’t bear it if you looked at her in disappointment, or worse if you verbally told her of your disdain for her actions. She had to make this right.

You feel immediate guilt wash over you upon realizing just how badly you must have startled her to cause such a reaction, but before you can even begin to apologize, and to your abject horror she immediately drops down to her knees in front of the debris

“Natasha!”

“I’m sorry Alpha, I’m so sorry!” she apologizes, not realizing you had been shouting because she was now picking the broken pieces up with her hands and not because she broke it in the first place, “Please don’t be mad!”

Her pleading has your heart aching in you chest, and you try your best to approach her in a way that doesn’t further trigger her, “Omega- ”

“Please!” she stresses, bottom lip trembling, “It was an accident, I promise it won’t happen again!”

You kneel beside her and grab her wrists, forcing her to drop the broken pieces that are now stained with blood from fresh cuts that litter her hands. She prepares herself to be berated, but instead is met with your warm embrace as you pull her against you.

“I didn't mean to, I'm sorry Alpha. I'm sorry”

“Shhh, it's alright Natty. It was an accident. I'm not mad. You're not in trouble” you assure her, nuzzling into her scent gland

“I- I’m not?”

Her confusion pains you, and in that moment you want nothing more than to roast Bruce over a pit of hot coals, “No baby, you're not. You're not in trouble. You're safe here, remember?”

Her brain finally begins to clear, and a guttural sob leaves her as she realizes the truth in your words. You weren’t like Bruce, and you never would be. You were Y/n, her amazingly kind Alpha.

“I’m sorry” she whimpers, turning to bury her face against your chest “I didn’t mean to react like you were him. I know you're not. I know”

You hold her even tighter, “It’s okay Omega. Sometimes, you can’t help these things. Certain things are going to cause this type of reaction, and though it saddens me to see you like this, I will never take it personally”

You continue to hold her as she cries, offering her nothing but soothing touches and gentle words. Once she seems to have calmed down, you stand with her, and look over to see that despite everything Dima is still happy to be playing in his bouncer. Content with this you scoop your Omega up in your arms and carefully place her on the counter next to the sink.

She watches as you turn on the water, letting it get warm as you find the bandages and antibacterial cream you keep out here in case of emergencies. You reach a finger in to feel the water, and content with it you take her hands in yours and help her clean the wounds. Satisfied with how they look now you apply a bit of cream to each of them before placing a bandaid over them and then you gently kiss her hands before helping her down

“Go get comfortable in the living room baby. I’ll sweep this up and bring Dima in”

She looks at you, guilt still evident on her features, “But- ”

“No buts” you tell her, leaning in to place a soft kiss against her lips, “Go on now, I’ll only be a moment”

“Okay”

Sure enough, it hadn’t taken you long at all and she smiled as you and her pup entered the room. You kiss his cheeks a few times before placing him down in his playpen and then you sit down next to your mate.

“Come here” you mumble as you wrap your arms around her, pulling her into your lap

She practically melts into your embrace as your scent surrounds her, bringing her an easy sense of comfort and security, allowing her to finally begin to truly feel at ease. You place gentle kisses against her collarbone and cheek as you hold her,

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was having a hard day. I just knew you were too, and I didn’t want to make things worse for you”

“You could never make things worse for me, Omega” you tell her, cupping her face gently, “I’m just sorry I wasn’t here today to help you through it.”

She shakes her head, “You were when I needed you most, and you took care of me. Thank you, Alpha”

“I’ll always take care of you, you don’t ever have to thank me for that”

“I know I don’t have to” she admits, nuzzling against your chest, “But you deserve to know how grateful I am for everything you do. I love you, Y/n.”

“I love you too, Natty” you reply, squeezing her affectionately before moving one of your hands to her stomach, “Everything gonna be okay”

Taglist: @wandaromamoff69 @mmmmokdok @nataliasknife @natashasilverfox @when-wolves-howl @danveration @naomi-m3ndez @sheneonromanoff @sayah13 @likefirenrain @nighttime-dreaming @readings-stuff @chaoticevilbakugo @crystalstark02 @wackymcstupid @xchaiix @iaminluvwithnat @lovelyy-moonlight @blackwidow-3 @mistressofinsomnia @that-one-gay-mosquito @yomamagf @yourfavdummy @justarandomreaderxoxo @scoutlp23-blog @whoischanelle15 @lissaaaa145 @eline03 @wizardofstories @imthenatynat @marvelonmymind @fluffyblanketgecko @bitch-616 @dakotastormm @zoomdeathknight @rayeofmoonlight @aeroae @sashawalker2 @naslt @lattayhottay16 @yelenabelov-ed @thatonebrazilian @that-one-gay-mosquito @marvelwomen-simp @wannabe-fic-reader @tashakink @whitewidowsbite @smromanoff

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x reader #omega!natasha romanoff #omega!nat #marvel #fanfic #marvel fanfiction #a/b/o fanfic #a/b/o fic #a/b/o universe #a/b/o dynamics #a/b/o

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crookedkryptonitebeliever · 7 months

Text

Yandere coworker (part 8)

Tw: noncon touching, noncon kissing, afab reader anatomy, violence, toxic family dynamics

Masterlists, part 1, part 9

Thanks for the asks about cyprus guys, it do be helping me to unclog that authors block for this stimky

Especially the ones who wanted to know more about him, got the idea from themm

"...She's sick and she has a cert' to prove it. I'll ask her to send an email after this call."

You were awoken by Cyprus's voice early morning. Softly grumbling under your breath, you pushed yourself up and rubbed your eyes. Realizing that you were lying on top of his bare chest the entire night. A calloused hand holds you in place by the ass, while the other held onto his phone that is being pressed against his ear.

"Me? I told you. I'm not coming in today. An emergency came up." The annoyance on his face evaporated away as soon as he saw that you were awake. You grunted in displeasure as he pressed an audible kiss on your very sleepy form.

You tried focusing on his banter with Jane. But everything was gibberish to you as you struggled to keep your eyes open. Cyprus gently pushed you back down onto his broad chest as he saw you swaying side to side, obviously not at all fit to go to work.

You pressed your cheek against him and closed your eyes, letting your consciousness slowly drift away again.

"You figure it out, you're the manager." He barked before hanging up on her. Cyprus stretched his arm to open the drawer of his nightstand, dropping his phone next to yours inside it.

The brunette turned his attention to you. He groped your buttocks, it made you stir a little, but it looked like you were too tuckered out to care.

"Hey."

You replied with a weak hum.

"I want to smoke."

You let out a grunt of annoyance. Struggling to push yourself off him.

"What the hell are you doing?" Cyprus pressed you closer to him.

You said that you're trying to get out of the way so he could do his thing.

He huffed. "You're supposed to stop me."

You said that he is an adult. You have no right to tell him what to do or stop whatever urges he may have. You told him that you wished he would extend the same courtesy to you.

"Oh yeah? Well, I have the urge to fuck you stupid right now." This woke you up immediately, making you push him away and creating as much distance as possible. You would have run away if it wasn't for him caging you against the bed.

You began whining and whimpering, about to break into a loud scream, until,

"Relax. I'm not doing that today." His voice took on a condescending tone. However, his fingers are still digging into your soft flesh, keeping you in place under him.

"Help me fight the urge to smoke." He ordered. "I won't let you go until you do something about it."

You frowned, forcing your brain to think early this morning.

You asked when and why he started smoking. His eyes darted to the side as he actively recalled the first time he did it.

"I started when I was twelve." He rolled to your side, but his arm still kept you in place. "My sister tried her best to keep me away from it, but I was a little shit. I stole a pack from her handbag and the rest was history."

You asked what kept him going. He shrugged.

"I looked... cool. And it calms me down, I had to work after school, to pull my own weight around the house. Juice boxes and candies weren't enough to soothe my nerves after a long night of dealing with fucking morons." Cyprus absentmindedly played with your hair as he reminisced about his youth.

You asked him what work he could have possibly done as a 12-year-old.

"You know, like. Shady ones. I would sell random shit on the streets, become a delivery boy for some local gangs, weirdos paid me to leave dead animals on doorsteps of specific people..." He trailed off.

You asked what he used the money on.

"Well, firstly, to keep the lights on. Secondly, on more cigarettes."

You asked how come the money from his mother and sister wasn't enough, that a young boy like him had to be robbed of his childhood to work. To that, he scowled, but not necessarily at you for asking such a question, but it was more like he wasn't fond of the memory.

"Looking expensive was apparently more important than her kids getting three meals a day." You waited for him to elaborate on that.

"We had a coffee machine when we couldn't even afford the right coffee. She had to outshine her so-called friends at church, wearing a new dress every week in her favorite color; gold. While we had to go insane and sleepless trying to put food on the table." He spat, feeling resentment for his mother for prioritizing her image.

"My sister was just like me, she had to juggle her studies while raising me and my mom." He mindlessly touched the back of his shoulder again. You wonder if his sister did something to him on that body part of his.

You asked if he still resents his mother for being materialistic.

He sighed. "...A little."

You asked him if she still is like this.

"Not anymore. It took me running away for a few days to sober her up. She was still shit at managing her money- my sister had to handle that on her own, but at least she knows she was a massive idiot back then."

You asked him how old he was when he ran away.

"Fifteen." A guilty look crossed his face. "My sister freaked the fuck out. It wasn't pretty when I finally decided to show my face again." You eyed the hand that touched the same spot as before.

You asked him if she hit him before.

"More times than I can count. She uses anything and everything, but it's mostly her cha- Slippers." He laughed.

You asked if she usually hit him on the spot that he kept rubbing whenever she was mentioned.

"Oh... no." He turned around to show you what he was touching. It's a long, large raised scar with mild discoloration, but it's clearly healed a while ago. You thought he had that while fighting. "She fucking stabbed me with a kitchen knife. Only once. But it hurt like a bitch, especially when she screamed that I was her biggest burden."

You offered him words of sympathy this time. He snorted.

"She didn't mean it. Because I heard her yell the same thing when she stabbed my mom in the hand. Plus, I was only 8, it wasn't my fault everything was the way it was."

You asked him if he gets to stab her as revenge. He chuckled at your question.

"Nope. My mom did, though. I stole her money and told her boyfriends that she has some sort of contagious disease instead." He pursed his lips and stroked his chin as he thought about the past deeply. "Yeah, I held a grudge against her for a while. I kept stealing her shit and laughed in her face whenever she breaks down. I have taken dodging and blocking seriously ever since I got stabbed."

You asked when you stopped being an asshole to his sister.

"About... fourteen. When I realized that my sister was more of a parent than my mom would ever be. It was awkward as hell, trying to make up for being this devil who's been sabotaging her for years."

You asked if he ran away out of guilt. He looked at you confused.

"Why would I..." He paused and thought about it for a while.

You continued, explaining that maybe he didn't want to be a burden to his sister anymore, so he thought running away was the solution?

"I ran away because I was sick of my mom leeching off me. She was the burden."

You asked if he thought about his sister when he took off.

"Yeah, I thought about how she's going to be fine without me. But I was mostly thinking about how I'm finally free from my mom siphoning my hard earned cash into her wallet."

You asked Cyprus what made him come back. He was chewing on his bottom lip throughout this conversation, possibly to try and suppress the urge to get up and smoke.

"My sister managed to find me one day and tore me a new one. She set my ass straight and put me back into school, kept an eye on me until I turned 18. Then, she told me that I'm free to fuck off and do whatever."

You asked him what he did.

"Finished university. I had some financial backing from my mom and my sister, but I still had to work like a dog to pay off my tuition fees. Thanks to them, I'm here today. Playing with my girl's cute and squishy ass."

You realized that he was fondling your rear during the entirety of this conversation. It made you slap his hand away.

He snickered when you angrily hit him on the chest.

"Oh come on, you liked it." Cyprus brought his face close to yours, to which you pushed him away with your palms.

You said that you did something about his urge to smoke. You asked if he would let you go now.

"Nope."

Exasperated, you let out a whine. Asking what more does he want.

Cyprus puckered his lips dramatically, even to a comical extent and made loud kissy noises. His thumb brushed your bottom lip, silently telling you that he isn't content just giving you kisses on the cheeks or forehead.

You told him that you're not interested in doing such things with him. But he cuts you off mid sentence by shoving his lips against yours.

You struggled, having Cyprus's unusually long tongue muffle your screams. But it only took a couple of seconds for you to calm down and grow limp in astonishment.

He is a... really, really good kisser. You grew more and more embarrassed each second you lingered, pathetically fighting back but clearly enjoying the dance of tongues. You liked the warmth, the erotic sounds he makes without the help of his vocal chords, the slickness and his rhythm. It's oddly satisfying and enjoyable.

He smelled of his body wash, a strong, earthy masculine odor mixed with a hint of cigarette smoke.

You couldn't tell what he tasted like except for the fact that he tasted nice.

You were too distracted by his skills to notice that his hands slipped under your oversized shirt that once belonged to your boyfriend. He's kneading your breasts and buttocks, perhaps adding to the pleasure train that you're experiencing.

However, despite not being a smoker, your lung capacity is much more inferior than Cyprus's. You panicked, repeatedly whacking him on the back as you tried to get him off you so you wouldn't pass out from oxygen deprivation.

He slowly pulled away from you, retreating his lewd hands along with him, admiring the string of saliva connecting your lips to his full ones. You're the only one panting in the room, Cyprus was calm and collected, yet you're there greedily gasping for air with your chest rapidly rising up and down.

"Thanks for the meal, princess. Next time, I'd like to know how it tastes down..." He brushed his fingertips against your clothed clit teasingly, making you jerk your hips away and squeeze your thighs together to process the sudden exciting stimulation. "...here. I bet it'll taste fucking delicious." Purred Cyprus with a pair of grey, bedroom eyes.

He laughed as you shied away from him. "You're funny" Cyprus cooed, tickling your sides until you audibly cackled.

He sat on the edge of the bed, yawning and stretching. He puts on his glasses as he rises from his seat, stretching his back muscles and arms even more.

"Oh and, thank you, doll." He looked back at you.

You asked what for.

"i don't feel like smoking anymore." He bent down to give you an appreciative kiss on the temple. "For now, at least." Cyprus continued.

"Come out in ten minutes." He said, walking out of the bedroom door and into the kitchen. You hear him start to gather the cooking vessels, utensils and ingredients needed for breakfast.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere male #yandere concept #tw yandere #yandere x you #yandere oc x reader #male yandere oc x reader #oc Cyprus #male yandere x reader #yandere x female reader #yandere x y/n #tw afab reader #tw afab anatomy #tw non con touching #tw non con kissing #male yandere oc

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cyberneticfallout · 5 months

Text

Chapter Three: The Gulper

Ch 1 - Ch 2 - Ch 3 - Ch 4 - Ch 5 - Ch 6 - Ch 7 - Ch 8 - Ch 9 - Ch 10 - More Coming Soon

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Fem!Reader Summary: As you continue your journey, you encounter the vault dweller and chaos ensues. Tags: Slow burn (and I mean SLOWWW), angst, eventual smut, language, canon-typical violence, more tags will be added Posted on AO3: Smoothie and The Ghoul Word Count: 1.8k

Emerging from your slumber, a thin layer of mist clings to your skin, casting a damp chill upon the early morning air. Your back protests from the uncomfortable night's rest on the flat, hard ground, but you shake off the discomfort with a determined grimace. After all, you've endured far worse over the years through the wasteland.

Shaking off the grogginess, you cast a quick glance around the campsite. The ghoul remains peacefully asleep, barely distinguishable in the dim light of the approaching dawn. With the sky gradually brightening, you determine that it's time to start your preparations for the day.

You rise from your makeshift bedroll, stretching your tired muscles and seeking relief from the stiffness that plagues your body. The calmness of the early morning wraps around you, broken only by distant echoes of the wasteland stirring to life.

As you collect your belongings, a soft chittering echoes in the air, instantly grabbing the dog's attention as her ears perk up. The dim light of dawn shrouds the surroundings, making it challenging to discern the source of the sound. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch sight of a radroach creeping ever closer to the slumbering ghoul.

Without hesitation, you instinctively grab hold of the pistol within your reach, taking aim at the approaching bug. The air shudders as two resounding shots tear through it, bringing a swift death to the radroach. The ghoul jolts awake, his head snapping towards you with a look of surprise… and annoyance?

"Can't you see I'm sleepin'?" he calls out, his voice twinged with irritation.

You respond, feigning a gasp and mockingly clutching your chest. "Oh, I do apologize, mister! How thoughtless of me not to realize you had scheduled to be a feast for a radroach!"

He grumbles, rising to his feet. "Shut up. You think I didn't see it comin'?"

"You looked dead asleep," you remark.

"I always look dead," he mutters.

"Oh I don't know about that," you retort, a mischievous smirk gracing your face. "Sometimes you look like a sun-dried tato."

"You're damn lucky you have what I need..."

"Well, lucky for you, I happen to have a soft spot for sun-dried tatos," you quip, trying to lighten the mood. He raises an eyebrow, a faint hint of amusement breaking through his facade of annoyance. He grunts, a sound that could be mistaken for a chuckle if you weren't aware of his generally sour disposition.

“You're a strange one, you know that?" he rasps, scratching the back of his head. With a chuckle, you start packing up the rest of your belongings, the early morning sun casting long shadows around you.

“Come on, let’s go find the rest of him.”

As you venture further into the wasteland, the sun climbs higher in the sky, casting harsh shadows and intensifying the heat around you. The landscape is a mix of desolate terrain and remnants of the old world, twisted and broken by time and neglect.

The ghoul trudges alongside you, his footsteps heavy but determined. Meanwhile, the dog is trotting ahead, sniffing the air and occasionally darting off to investigate something in the distance. The wasteland is eerily quiet, save for the occasional rustle of debris or distant howl of a mutated creature. You remain vigilant, scanning the horizon for any signs of danger.

Hours pass by and you notice a subtle change in the landscape. It slowly turns greener and the air feels a bit cooler. With each step you take, the transformation becomes more noticeable. The harsh, barren landscape is gradually replaced by patches of greenery. Sparse vegetation starts to spring up, providing some relief from the relentless heat. The dog, too, seems to appreciate the change, wagging her tail more often and darting around with renewed energy. Even the ghoul seems less weary, his heavy steps lightening a bit.

Rustling in the foliage caught your attention, followed by a swift blur of a vault jumpsuit sprinting past. It seems the ghoul was right about her not getting far. The ghoul glances at you and nods toward the direction she had fled. The three of you quicken your pace and find her sitting on the ground, a look of panic etched on her face.

"Hello again," he drawls as he lifts his gun and cocks it. "Where is it? The head."

The vault dweller turns slowly to the gun pointed at her, her appearance striking. With dark hair, a flawlessly sculpted face, and the largest eyes you've ever seen in your life, she exudes an air of innocence and vulnerability. "I-I don't know where it is, okay? I lost it. I lost it," she stammers, her voice trembling with fear and desperation.

She watches you rummage through her bag, a look of disbelief crossing her face at your audacity. Finding only provisions, you stand up and survey the flooded ruins around you. With a grim tone, you mutter, "A gulper got it."

"A gulper got it, huh?" The ghoul chuckles darkly before swiftly knocking out the vault dweller with the butt of his gun. You raise an eyebrow at him as he hoists her over his shoulder and carries her to a nearby dock. There, he starts securing her with a contraption that appears to be for waterboarding.

"So, uh... what's the plan here?" you ask.

"Gonna use her as bait," the ghoul replies matter-of-factly.

"Bait? For the gulper?" you muse, considering the plan. "That's actually a pretty solid plan."

You watch with a mix of curiosity and unease as the vault dweller slowly regains consciousness. With a quick tug on a rope, he sends her plummeting into the water below. After nearly thirty seconds, he decides to pull her back up via a makeshift pulley system.

"Please stop!" she cries out, spitting out water. "My dad is an overseer. He got taken by raiders and I need that head to save him. If you help me find him, he'll do anything you ask."

Ignoring her pleas, the ghoul sends her back into the water and whistles for the gulper as the dog barks in protest. It's clear he doesn't care about her father's position. As he hoists her out of the water again, she pleads, "Stop. Stop! Torture is wrong."

"You know, they used to do these things called ‘studies’. You couldn’t open a newspaper without reading about one study or another," the ghoul begins, the geiger counter on her Pip-Boy clicking. "Anyway, this one particular study came out, and it said that torturing a person don’t do shit."

He submerges her once more, turning to you, "It made sense. I mean, a man hurts me, I wouldn’t want to do him any favors. And yet the practice of torture failed to vanish from this earth. In fact, as time marched on, I’ve personally noticed a decided uptick in the amount of torture being doled out across the board."

The vault dweller coughs and gasps for air as she’s brought back up. "Sir, please, I need the head. It’s the only way I can get my father back."

"Still so polite... calling you sir," you quietly chuckle to yourself as you approach her, her drenched body shivering in protest. Leaning in close, you whisper, "You're a long way from home, Vaultie. You shouldn't be out here. Daddy's probably already dead, if I'm being honest.”

"My point is...” He interrupts and you step back, “If you ask me, them studies, they was right. Torturin’ a person don’t do shit.”

"Then why are you doing this to me?!” she screams.

"Well, I ain’t torturin’ you, sweetheart. I’m using you as bait,” he explains before plunging her into the water once again. You can't help but feel a slight hint of annoyance at him calling her "sweetheart".

You shake your head, trying to push aside the unreasonable jealousy that bubbles within you. The ghoul's actions can be seen as despicable, the vault dweller's plight heart-wrenching, and yet here you are, fixating on such a trivial detail. You chide yourself for feeling envious over a term of endearment. It’s a bizarre reaction, one that you begin to struggle to understand.

You snap out of your thoughts as the ghoul attempts to retrieve her from the water. A tense moment begins to unfold. The rope gets tangled, and the water starts churning as the gulper draws near. Frantically, he twists the wheel connected to the pulley system but it seems stuck. In a panic, you spot a hook stick nearby and throw it to him. He yanks her back up and she falls back onto the dock. The gulper lunges forward, its jaws snapping shut mere inches away from her, narrowly missing her.

The excess rope attached to the vault dweller becomes entangled in the gulper's mouth, causing it to thrash about wildly. In the chaos, the rope slips from under you and winds around your leg. As she fights back against the creature with the ghoul's satchel, she manages to free herself. But now, the gulper redirects its focus towards you and launches itself at your foot. With a terrifyingly close view, you see its mouth lined with tendrils resembling human fingers as it starts to pull you closer, inching towards the horrifying prospect of being devoured by this thing.

The ghoul rushes towards you and clasps onto your hand, desperately trying to pull you out of its mouth. For a brief moment, you're touched by his attempt to help, but suspicion creeps in as you realize he may be more concerned about the vials in your bag.

However, the sheer power of the large gulper proves too overwhelming as it begins to engulf you. The hundreds of finger-like tendrils, slick and slimy, slither and coil around you in a grotesque dance of entrapment. Each sinewy appendage seems to have a mind of its own, probing and grasping with an unsettling precision.

As the tendrils press against your skin, a wave of revulsion washes over you, causing your stomach to churn and bile to rise in your throat. The repulsive touch is warm and clammy, sending shivers down your spine as you struggle against the suffocating grip of the gulper's mouth.

You unleash a torrent of obscenities, every curse and profanity in your arsenal spewing forth in a raw display of frustration and panic as the ghoul continues to fight against the gulper's grasp. In a final, desperate struggle, the ghoul's grip falters. His strength wanes as he stumbles backward, his body crashing to the ground with a resounding thud.

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" you shout in frustration as the creature envelops you, swallowing you whole. The last image being etched in your mind is that of the ghoul's contorted face, twisting in anger as he yells furiously at the vault dweller and then…

Darkness.

Tag List: @fallout-girl219 @ellabellabunny123 @sunnexaltation

#hope you enjoy my gulper description lmao #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard #the ghoul #fallout #smoothie and the ghoul

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tiredmetalenthusiast · 3 months

Text

To Start Anew (TF141xLATA!Reader) Ch.1

This was just a little thing that popped into my head! Like what if home gurl got left at the altar, took the honeymoon trip and met the 141 men along the way? The Kyle mentioned at the beginning is not our boy Gaz so don’t be alarmed! And to clear up any confusion LATA is just short for "Left At The Altar".

Warnings so far: Swearing, being left at the altar, unhealthily fast switch up from sad to mad.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Today was supposed to be the best day of your life. Your dream venue was decorated to perfection, all the guests had shown up minus a few because of life and other things, and you understood saying you'd send them their gift bags and photos.

You stood in the room surrounded by your bridesmaids, mother, sister , mother in law Molly and sister in law Tara. The wedding would start in a few minutes and in that time you would never have believed the utter heartbreak you would experience.

A sharp, hurried knock sounds at the door, urgency and dread rearing their ugly heads. “We have an emergency!” came from behind the door and the best man, Jack, entered.

Your mother and Molly look at him as the others give worried looks, your MOH Hana gripping your hand. “He's not here. He's not answering his phone, his work doesn't know where he is.” Rage flashes in Molly's eyes, the woman had loved you the moment she met you and you'd never seen rage on her like this before.

“What do you mean ‘he's not here and you can't find him’?! The wedding starts in 20 minutes and you're just now telling me he hasn't been here the entire time?!” The woman is furious. Your mom and sister are furious. The bridesmaids and MOH are furious.

Finally, Tara decides to speak up, guilt eating away at her. “He's not coming.” Molly's head snaps so fast towards Tara, you thought it would break. “You'd best start explaining right now Tara, before the consequences become severe!”

Your mom and sister drag Jack further inside the room, cornering the two of them. The explanation breaks your heart, the pair going on about how he had realized he hadn't actually wanted to get married. Your sobs break the story and everyone looks at you with pity.

“Was there another woman? Was he cheating on me?!” You managed to get out past the sobs and now raw, irritated throat. “No! Trust me I checked through everything he owned! There is no other woman!” If anyone would know it would be Jack, the man was a tech wiz.

You nodded and dropped your head into your hands. “Well, best we go let everyone know there isn't gonna be a wedding.” Tears streaming down your face you barge from the room, party trailing behind you as phones are pulled out to make calls or send texts.

Hana quiets the band as you reach the altar, mic in hand. You take a deep, shaky breath. “H…hm…” You clear your throat as Hana brings you a cold glass of champagne and takes the mic from you.

“Hello everyone! I stand before you all to let you know that the wedding will not be happening. Kyle has decided he doesn't want to marry and has vanished. No one has been able to reach him.” The gasp from the crowd is so loud it muffles a new round of sobs. Whispers are quiet but the anger is not.

Your dad rushes to the altar to comfort you as Hana rubs a hand across your back. There are rude comments made about time and money wasted and comments made to console your crying self. The rude commentary was shut down by the bridal party immediately, especially after Becky punched someone and verbally ran them through, because they how dare they make an already shitty day worse.

The reception hall is opened as well as the bar. Your mother makes sure you don't drink yourself stupid as you wallow in your anguish. Hana and the other bridesmaids plop down around you, drinks in hand and bashing your now ex. “So, as it stands I would let him know it’s over.” “Yeah, and then after that you can hop on the honeymoon plane and relax in Italy! Drink some bangin wine, eat so much pasta you get absolutely sick of it! Maybe meet a nice Italian guy? Wink wink~!”

Hana rolls her eyes while the others smile and wiggle their eyebrows at you. You shake your head and give a small smile, pulling out your phone and bringing up Kyle’s number to begin typing. ‘Hey jackass, hope you’re enjoying wherever the hell you’re at. Sending this complimentary text to confirm that we are, in fact, over. Have fun and lose my number cuz I’ll be blocking your’s. Fuck you, sincerely your ex fiance! PS. I’m still taking the honeymoon trip.’

”Good on you dear. His father and I will be sure to tear him a new one should we be in contact.” “Thank you Molly. Don’t be a stranger and I’ll be sure to bring you and Terry something back from Italy.” “A bottle of sweet red would be lovely if you can find it!” You nod and block Kyle’s number along with blocking him on everything else. “What time is the flight?” “Oh, uh, like 7am tomorrow. I’ll be there for 2 weeks.” “Best get home and sleep then.” Your mom and sister gathered you up and got you to the room to change back into your normal clothes before heading home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tags: @cumikering

#~Harley Finally writes something🫣#Series: To Start Anew #call of duty #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #tf 141 x reader

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munsonfamilyband · 2 months

Text

In Everything But Blood (Pt. 2)

Finally, I have returned with part 2 of the random thing I came up with at 2 in the morning while finishing a 40 page paper.

TW medical descriptions (likely also inaccuracies), mentions of blood/bodily fluids, hospitals, mentions of parental abuse/neglect

~~~~~~~

The nurses assured them that Steve was doing better by the third day in the ICU.

It was hard to believe them when he was still being sedated and pumped full of as many antibiotics as they could give him. It was even harder when he looked so small in the sterile hospital bed. His skin was waxy and still had a pale yellow tinge to it, except for his cheeks that had remained flush and red since he had been found by Claudia in his room. His hair was limp and sweaty, which just broke her heart because she knew he would hate it.

Claudia had only left for brief periods of time when Jim was around, never wanting Steve to be alone, to not have a parent with him. (She recognized that this desire came both from her maternal instincts and from the conversation she had briefly had with Jim after he showed up the first day. She had asked if the Harringtons could, or even should, be contacted about Steve and Jim had just scoffed. Apparently he had tried to call Steve's parents in '84 when he had protected the kids from Billy Hargrove. Apparently all they did was say that Steve was being overdramatic and they would be home when they could. Apparently they didn't come home until well into the new year.) The first time she had to leave was to pick Dusty up from the Wheelers, the night Steve had been brought in.

When Dusty slid into the front seat of Jim's car he immediately turned to Claudia with a confused frown on his face. "Why are you driving Hopper's car?" He paused and looked at her appearance, taking in the now brown stains on the front of her sweater and around her cuticles, the smell of cleaner that he no doubt knows only clings to her when she has work. "Mom... what happened?"

Claudia took a shuddering breath in, leaning her head back against the headrest to steady herself before having to tell her Dusty news that will certainly break his heart. "You know I had lunch plans with Steve today, right?" She looked over at him, her heart in her throat as she saw the dawning realization on her son's face. He nodded slowly before she continued speaking. "He was supposed to come by around noon, but by 1 I hadn't heard from him and he hadn't shown up-"

"But that doesn't make sense, Steve is like, perpetually on time," Dustin cut in, his brow furrowed and clearly trying to deny what he knows the logical conclusion is.

"I know, sweety, that was my thought too. So I drove over to his house, and the porch light was off so I knew something wasn't right." She paused here to take another deep breath, blinking back tears. "He was in his room and... he was hurt, badly. I called an ambulance and he was taken to the hospital-"

"What?! Mom, why didn't you call- he can't- I need to see him-" Dustin's voice cracked with anguish, tears already welling up.

"Dusty, I know you want to see him, but, baby, he can't-"

"No! Mom, I have to- his parents aren't-" She interrupted his panicking and pulled him across the center console into a tight hug. He muffled his sobs into her chest, clinging to her sweater with white knuckled fists.

"I know they aren't, baby, but they also aren't his emergency contacts any more. He's in the ICU right now so only family can visit. Jim, Robin and I are all his emergency contacts so we're allowed to see him right now. And-!" She quickly spoke to prevent Dustin from interrupting again. "I know you're also family to him but he's in really bad shape right now, and you and I both know he wouldn't want you to see him like this. I'm going to be visiting him for a while so I'll bring you with me so you can see Eddie, and I can try to bring him something if you want him to have anything, but you can't visit yet." Dustin just sobbed harder into her chest, clinging to her in the same way he had when she found him after the mall burned down. "I know, Dusty, I know." She pressed a kiss to the top of his head, holding him close as they both cried.

~~~~~~

After a week of constant antibiotics and sedation the doctor informed them that Steve was going to be moved out of the ICU and into a regular room. Claudia knew that he wasn't fully better yet but this was significant progress. It meant that Steve wasn't at constant risk and it also meant that he could have regular visitors.

He was being moved in the morning so Claudia and Robin were alone, sitting together in his room. Claudia was sitting in a chair with her knitting (that she snuck in, after thoroughly sterilizing it first of course) and Robin was sitting on Steve's bed with a wet cloth as she tried to clean some of the grease out of his hair. She had the same heartbroken look on her face that she had all week.

“Robin, honey, I know what you’re thinking…” Claudia made sure to speak softly. Robin was clearly hanging by a thread. “It’s not-“

“But it is my fault! I knew he was hurt and I just-I just went home. I left him alone and hurt and-“ Robin cut herself off to take a deep breath. “How could I forget that he was hurt?”

“Honey, you had all just been through a lot and you wanted to check on your parents, that's okay. As much as it frustrates me to say, Steve chose to not get seen.”

“Exactly! He insists he's fine but he never is! It’s my job to make sure he takes care of himself because otherwise he won’t.”

“I know you two are close, but sweetie, you don’t have to take care of him.”

“I do, because-because he’s my-my-… he’s mine. And I’m his, and we take care of each other. I can’t-…I don’t know what I would do without him. So I have to make sure he’s safe, just like he does for me….. And I failed him.”

Claudia had thought her heart couldn't break further, but that one statement proved her wrong. She set her knitting aside and hurried over to Robin's side, gently taking the cloth out of her hands before pulling her into a tight hug. "Oh, Robbie... I know, sweetie, I know. But he's doing better now, alright? Let's focus on that, we can't focus on how we got here."

~~~~~

When Claudia was finally told Steve could have regular visitors it felt like a weight lifting from her shoulders. Visitors was a good thing - a great thing, even - because it meant he was getting better. He was still sedated, though they were lowering his doses slowly, and his doctors said that he was taking to the skin grafts beautifully. Looking at him still made her throat close up in panic, but it was lasting less and less time every time she saw him.

Telling Dustin was... interesting. He was overjoyed but then deflated when she made sure he understood that they couldn't all visit at once and he still wasn't awake.

She shouldn't have been surprised that Dusty and his friends found a way to show Steve they cared without being able to all be there.

The first time she was able to bring Dustin to see Steve he had dragged a huge bag with him into the car, just saying it was for Steve when asked. She found out what that meant when he immediately opened it after entering Steve's room. Inside were gifts from all of his friends. There was a blanket that looked suspiciously like the one from Joyce's couch, a set of hair clips and a new brush, bottles of shampoo and conditioner (these were handed to Robin who cracked a smile for the first time in days). There were also cards and drawings and photographs. Dustin went around and started propping them all up wherever he could, even pulling out tape to put up some of the drawings.

Claudia immediately recognized Will's art style but the drawings themselves were odd. There was one of Steve holding a baseball bat, studded with what looked like nails, surrounded by cars. Another had Steve in the adorable work uniform he had the previous summer, standing next to Robin with a white board in her hands. One looked like Steve, with suspiciously familiar injuries, ripping apart some creature that looked like that weird alien from the movie. She wanted to ask but the way Robin laughed at the one she was in kept her from interrupting the moment. Robin needed to laugh more.

~~~~

The next few days were a rotation of children. The Sinclairs showed up together, rolling Max into the room in her wheelchair. The Byers stopped in one day, with the Wheelers showing up the next. Each visit was marked with cards and photos, everyone telling Steve some story to keep him informed.

Jim showed up most days, but one day he brought along his daughter.

Claudia knew of Jane, but had yet to meet her, since she had moved with the Byers while Jim was gone. She had been informed that Steve and Jane had been close before the move, so seeing the pure devastation on her face wasn't a surprise.

Claudia watched as Jane sniffled and then pulled a, frankly, offensively bright button down out of her bag and walked over to Robin with it. She whispered something in her ear that made Robin smile before gently taking the shirt from her hands. Robin started maneuvering Steve to place in under the back of his head with Jane's help and they both tied it around his head.

"Hi Steve, it's El- Ellie." She sniffed and wiped under her eyes quickly before continuing. "I know you're asleep right now but I wanted to help you keep your hair nice, like you showed me. So I brought Dad's shirt and Robin is helping tie it over your hair so it won't get so gross. I hope you like it. I miss you." She bent down once Robin had Steve fully settled and placed a kiss on his cheek before walking away, going right over to her dad and falling into his arms.

~~~~

The days continued like that, until Steve was fully off of the sedatives. After that it was a matter of waiting.

Robin still showed up every day she could, same with Jim. Claudia was there every second that she wasn't at home.

Robin had finally been forced to go home for a meal after Steve had passed his second full week in the hospital. The nurses said that he should wake up soon, but Claudia insisted that Robin needed to eat and get cleaned up.

Dusty and a few of his friends were just across the hall with his friend Eddie who had been awake for almost a week now. He was gaining his strength back and if Claudia strained to listen she could here his laughter from the hall.

She was sitting beside Steve's bed, knitting in the quiet when she heard the sheets shifting. Glancing up made her do a double take because Steve's face was all scrunched up. The same expression he had made the previous summer when he woke up with a concussion.

Claudia was out of her seat before she was consciously aware of moving, rushing to perch gently on Steve's bed and grab his hand.

"Steve, sweetie, you're okay." She was petting his hair back with the hand not gripping his and she watched his eyes squint open, just barely able to see hazel. He glanced slowly around the room, head lolling from side to side, before looking back at her.

"Mom..." His voice cracked from misuse, barely even audible but she heard it nonetheless, eyes immediately filling with tears.

"Yeah, sweetie, mom's here, I've got you." She bent down and hugged him to her, breath hitching when she felt one of his hands grip her sweater.

~~~~

Steve kept healing, awake this time, and he had a constant carousel of visitors.

Robin had started sobbing when she saw him awake, which just made him cry too. She had climbed into his bed and they had clung to each other for hours. Dustin had nearly collapsed when he walked in, not paying attention to Steve, and heard Steve speak. El had frozen in place before silent tears started to fall and she ran to hug him. The other kids had similar responses, even Jim teared up when he saw Steve awake. (And, if Claudia had overheard them talking late one night on her way back from a snack break, and heard Steve call Jim dad. Well, that's none of her business.)

Almost 4 days after Steve woke up, Claudia heard crutches in the hallway and looked up just in time to see Eddie slowly making his way into the room.

"Eddie! Look at you, up and moving around! Here, let me get you a chair." Claudia rushed around, pulling a chair up to Steve's bedside so Eddie could drop into it with a grateful smile. Steve had been watching TV and muted it to look at Eddie.

"Thanks, Mrs. H," Eddie spoke to her before turning all of his attention to Steve, a soft smile on his face. A glance at Steve showed the same smile and she watched as they talked, hands slowly inching closer together on top of the sheets.

Claudia went back to her knitting and watched over them, just happy that Steve had someone else in his life. She could see the bits of longing in the way they looked at each other, the laughter that Steve normally reserved for Robin, the gentle touches.

As Steve's mom she knew she would have to talk to Eddie later, but for now she was content watching young love grow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TAGLIST

@maya-custodios-dionach @eldtritchlizardblast @y4r3luv @devondespresso @zerokrox-blog @disrespectedgoatman @estrellami-1 @lingeringmirth @my-hyperfixations-hell-blog @spectrum-spectre @steddieasitgoes @puppy-steve @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe @nburkhardt @sllooney @princessstevemunson @yellowdevilkitten @emchant3d @steddie-island @afewproblems @gregre369 @bookbinderbitch @salty-h0e @steddie-as-they-go @marvel-ous-m

#steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #platonic stobin #claudia henderson #parental jim hopper #I finally did it #this is so soft it hurt me

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thotsofadepravedwoman · 3 months

Text

Serpentine Nights Ch 1,

Ridin’ with James Dean

Pairing: Benny Cross x Fem!Biker!OC

Fandom/Universe: The Bikeriders

Word count: 1105

Summary: As a last resort, Azzie calls in a favor to help keep her people safe.

Trigger warnings: smoking, drinking, this chapter takes place in the bar, borderline harassment, Its the late 60's what'd you expect?, this chapters' pretty tame. compared to the rest of the series.

Series masterlist Main masterlist

___

Lakeside Inn had always been dingy, clouded in smoke and smelling of bourbon. She had come to associate the unique electricity thrumming through the air from the loud music and rowdy patrons with home, the biker bar back home, owned by her father, had always been the same way. She had parked her bike, kicked down the kickstand, taken her gloves off, and popped a cigarette in her mouth before taking the few steps to cross the street and enter the bar.

She could tell they were in the middle of a meeting of sorts, the entire bar filled with bikers in their colors, the leather on her own back worn from years of wear and slightly sunbleached. The men around her looked at her, many catcalls were levied her way, and she wouldn't even want to know how many men were eyeing her backside with lust. She had a simple mission, one goal, one objective, and she would achieve it, even if it meant knocking a few heads.

“Hey there pretty thing,” she could nearly taste the alcohol on the mans breath, his obviously inebriated state leading to him slurring his words ever so slightly. “What's a girl like you doin’ in a place like this?”

“I'm looking for Johnny.” her words came out blunt, but still twinged with her mothers southern accent. “Where might I find him?”

“What’d you wan’ with the big man?” a man beside the first one asked, his eyes beard bamp from what she could only assume was alcohol of some kind.

“That's none of your concern.” she had thrown an uninterested glare at the men blocking her path. “Either point me in his direction, or move so I can find him myself.”

“Alright, alight. No need to get all feisty on us sweetheart.” The first one had slurred again, bringing his bottle of beer up to his lips, taking a swing while unabashedly raking her figure up and down with his eyes.

She pushes past the two, shoulder checking both of them, the leather jacket on her arms shifting as she rolls her shoulders, scanning the bar for the dark hair and signature unimpressed grimace. She had spotted a few women inside the bar, the few she saw either hanging off of a biker's arm, or wearing a jacket herself. It took her a second to spot Johnny through the haze of smoke, but when she had found him, she wasted no time in making her way over, taking mental note of the few men he was sitting with.

Johnny had barely noticed her until she was a mere step or two away from the table, her eyes nearly blank, only a dark sense of emergency pulling at the hues in her eyes. He had barely recognized her, having not seen her in quite a few years, the last time being at her mothers funeral nearly 10 years ago. It had almost shocked Johnny to see her after all these years, a full grown woman dressed in her own jacket and not borrowing her fathers.

“Well, look who we have here.” Johnny said, setting his glass of whisky down, sitting up a bit taller in his chair as he regarded the woman in front of him. “What bring you to-”

“We need to talk.” She hadn't even let him finish his sentence before she grabbed the only empty chair in the establishment, pushing herself in between two bikers, one with black hair, and the other with sandy blond hair, a look of surprise flashing across both males’ faces.

“Right to the point then,”Johnny took a drag from his cigarette, the burning end almost glowing in the low-light., “just like your father.”.

She didn't say anything, just continued to stare at Johnny as he stared back, her conviction almost startling her, where had that sweet little girl gone, the one that had almost cowarred behind her father. He had no clue, but he was interested to know where this new persona had come from.

“What’d you need?”

“We need to talk.” Her words had conveyed enough of her intent, the blaze in her eye only deepening into a near glare.

“Alright, alright.” Johnny waved the boys off, only the blond one next to her remaining stationary. “Yall go get a drink or somethin’.”

She had looked over to the one still sitting next to her, her eyes determined as she looked back to Johnny with a quizzical look in her eye.

“He stays.”

“My father is dying.” her words were concise, she had no time to dawdle and she knew it.

“I'm sorry ‘bout that,” Johnny picked up his glass, downing the remainder of his drink in one fell swoop. “He's a good man.”

“I'm calling in the favor.” she said. It didn't take long for the boy next to her to look over confused. His gaze flickering back and forth between her and Johnny. She was too young to have garnered any favors with Johnny, he could tell, but by the way Johnny had stiffened, his eyes growing concerned and determined, he knew something had to have gone down.

“What’d you need?’ was all Johnny said as he stubbed out his cigarette.

“Pigs’ll come circling, we’re gonna need some extra muscle.” the exchange was succinct, nearly formal as such few words were exchanged, yet each sentence carrying an heavy, near grave, importance.

“We’ll ride out in the mornin’. Take Benny with ya back home till then.” Johnny had nodded towards the man next to her, his deep blue eyes scanning over her leather jacket.

“Thank you.” That's all it took for her to stand, making eye contact with the blond man and walking out of the bar. She had gathered the man next to her as the Benny that Johnny had offered, seeing as he took out his riding gloves as he followed behind her, kicking the bar door closed with his boot.

“Where we headed?” Benny had said, his gloves now on as he swung his leg over his bike, kickstarting it as he pulled the kickstand up.

“North Indiana. Small town.” her words were short, as she kickstarted her own bike, the deep emerald green color standing out from the other bikes around her.

“Can I atleast know your name before we hit the road?” he asked, his head tilted to look at the undeniably beautiful woman in the pulled her bike up next to his own.

“You can call me Azzie.” was all she said before she pulled out, her bike roaring as she took off down the street with a barely perceptible smirk.

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ivy-plays · 8 months

Text

We'll be alright Ch.4

Summery:Summary: you've been married to Owen Grady as well as training a pack of velocsrapters at the New Jurassic World for two years now. So what happens when the two of you are asked to check on the paddock for a new dinosaur only for things to go sideways and send the entire park into chaos?

Warnings: blood, death, cussing, mentions of alcohol

Raiting:pg13

Paring: Owen Grady x wife!reader

Previous: Ch.3

An: heyyyyyyyyy. Guess who finally was able to write the next chapter after two months.🙃 . I'm sorry for such a long wait but my life has been really hectic lately with my job and senior year and just life in general ( I hate saying that because it's the #1 writer's excuse, but it's true lol) . Anyway! I hope you all like this chapter and I hope it was worth the long ass wait.

"Owen. " I whisper out, my voice shaking as I grab onto my husbands sleeve.

"It's in the cage! It's in the cage with you!"

"Abby what is it?" He asks as he turns around and as he does his eyes lock onto what I'm seeing.

A large white dinosaur,much larger than the t-Rex, emerges from the trees; its head hung low. Looking right at us " Run!" Owen calls out as he takes me by the hand as we begin running as fast as we can for the gate. The muscles in my legs are burning and my heart is beating rapidly with adrenaline and fear. When we got to the gait Owen hurriedly shoved me through first before following right behind me. I keep running until I'm a good 20 feet from the paddock and I watch in horror as the extremely pissed off idomanous rex begins to break and pry its way through the gap left in the gate. "Oh God" I murmur under my breath as I stand frozen where I stand.

"come on, we gotta go!" Owens voice makes me come back to my senses as the two of us began to run again but we didn't get far when the gates gave way. I drop to the ground, the sharp gravel digging into my knees and hands as I crawl under a van and Owen is quick to follow. I watch as he rolls onto his back before pulling me on top of him.

"close your mouth and eyes" he whispers as he pushes my head into the crook of his neck before I hear his pocket knife flick open. The smell of brake fluid fills my nose as Owen covers us in it , the thick liquid soaking and staining our clothes. My breath hitches and I tighten my grip on the man beneath me as loud and terrified screams fill my ears before abruptly being cut off. I'm holding my breath, and my body is completely frozen in fear when I suddenly feel a large wave of warm air blow over us. Something that should not be happening under a van. I have to stifle the whimper that falls from my lips. Owen, now taking his turn to tighten his grip on me, strong arms wrapping me in a cacoon of safety. We both hold our breath as the dinosaur nudged the van with its nose before letting out a huff of disinterest and stomping off somewhere, most likely looking for her next kill. I let out a choked and shaky breath as I felt Owen relax slightly beneath me.

"What the fuck just happened?" I eventually whisper out as I pull back to look my husband in the eyes. In his usual tranquil green eyes swam anger and something I haven't seen in a long time. Fear.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Once we gathered our bearings the two of us eventually made it back to the main building of the park. I watched as Owen barged through the doors of the central control room, me hot on his heels as we shoved past a security guard who tried to keep us out .

"What the hell happened out there?"

"sir" the security guard barked as he tried to grab Owen by the arm but he just yanked his arm away.

" There are thermal cameras all over that Paddock! She did NOT just disappear." I argue as Claire walks up to us , the rest of the control room watching the exchange.

"It must have been some technical malfunction." Claire tried to argue, but her voice sounded just as unsure as her words.

" Were you not paying attention?" Owen speaks up once more, his anger evident," she marked up that wall as a distraction. She wanted us to think she escaped."

I folded my arms across my chest, nails digging into the skin of my palms as I tried to not let my irritation get the best of me. Arguing and standing around isn't going to solve anything.

"Hold on . We're talking about an animal here " Claire huffs out, clearly annoyed about Owens and I's presence here.

" A highly intelligent animal" I retort, my pointed look meeting her own.

"400 meters to the beacon" I catch someone saying before my eyes snap up to the giant screen in the room, and I can't believe what I'm seeing.

"You're going after her with non lethals?" I grit out , my patience and composure running very thin with those who are in charge of this damn park.

Claire , who is now also watching the screen with her back towards us, continues to argue with us." We have $26 million invested in that asset. We can't just kill it" she says , her voice laced with a very matter of fact tone.

"Those men are gonna die-"

"300 meeters to the beacon"

"You need to call this mission off right now." I can hear Owen bark out from beside me as my eyes continue to watch the group of men trudge through the jungle with nothing but tranquilizers and tasers.

"They're right on top of it"

" Call it off right now "

"You are not in control here!"

The argument between Claire and my husband stops as the captain of asset containment picks up a chunk of skin and muscle from the jungle floor.

"What is that?" I ask as I try to examine the blinking object embedded in the mass before I turn to look at the man beside me.

" That's her tracking implant. She clawed it out" Owen says in near disbelief and Claire turns to look at us again.

" How would it know to do that?" She mutters as she turns to look back at the screen and so do I.

"She remembered where they put it in" I finally answered.

"It can camouflage!" The captain screams out as everything erupts into chaos as the Indominus rex seemingly appears out of thin air , quickly attacking the squad of men.

"Evacuate the park"

"We'd never reopen"

I feel my anger bubbling over as Claire continues to care more about money and image than the lives of others. " You made a genetic hybrid, raised it in captivity," I say, my voice low," She is seeing all of this for the first time ."

"She doesn't even know what she is." Owen continues, building on top of my words," she will kill anything that moves."

" Do you think the animal is contemplating its own existence?" Mr. Masarani ask is disbelief as he finally turns and acknowledges Owen and I.

I watch as yet another agents heart monitor flat lines on the screen. There are only two people left.

" She is learning where she fits in on the food chain and I'm not sure you want her to figure that out " I explained, my eyes meeting Masarani's ." Now, asset containment can use live ammunition in an emergency situation. You have a M134 in your armory. Put it on a chopper and smoke this thing!" I say, my voice is loud and demanding.

"We have families here. I'm not gonna turn this place into some kind of war zone." Claire hissed back at me .

" You already have"

"Mr. And Mrs.Grady if you are not going to help , there is no reason for you to be in here." The red head scoffs out as the walks over to one of the people who work in this room.

"I would have a word with your people in the lab. That thing out there. That's no dinosaur" Owen huffs out before he turns and storms out of the control room. I look at the screen once more as the last heart monitor flat lines before following him.

Tag list:@kaykinotic ,@rubyxx16

#x reader #fanfics #jurassic world #owen grady x reader #dinosaur #indominus rex #claire dearing #owen grady

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perictione00 · 1 year

Text

Selfish

Ch 1: Surprise!!!

Pairing: Geto Suguru x reader

Warnings: a bit dark and graphic..?

Synopsis: You left the Jujutsu World behind the moment the source of your warmth turned cold. So what happens when you come face to face with that one episode in your life that you wanted to obliterate? Simple, you reap what you sow.

Jujutsu Kaisen Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Malaysia, 2014

It was a tiring day, your period wasn't helping either. You were just itching to get home, take a shower, and order from that new Mexican place your boyfriend had been talking about. It was a Friday, so you were getting excited about the weekend. For some reason, you were feeling so grateful, maybe because your life was finally normal and you were happy. It was all okay until you encountered a young boy in a wheelchair, with a curse engulfing his lower body. A world that you wanted to escape so desperately, somehow never failed to present itself in a situation that made you question your morality. But after everything you had seen, you were way past morality, so you ignored the boy like you did with every other person who needed you.

"Jayden", you called out for your boyfriend as you opened the door to your shared apartment. You assumed, that he wasn't home yet as nobody answered but the familiar cursed energy you sensed said otherwise. You felt dreaded as it wasn't possible, you had dodged every single mistake that could have given away your whereabouts.

"Please no", you prayed as you walked further into the apartment. You froze, as you entered your bedroom. The bed was soaked in blood as the lifeless body of your boyfriend was being violated by a curse. "No, no, no, no, no", tears spilled out of your eyes as you started screaming in denial. It quickly turned into anger as a certain raven-haired man standing in the corner declared his presence, "Surprise!!!". You attacked him with a punch straight to his face and he didn't budge, he didn't dodge the many punches you threw his way while crying your heart out. He did stop you, chuckling, "Aww, don't cry..did you actually love this one? C'mon now, you know you're not capable of that". He started cradling you in a hug, "Now let's get back to business.., remember the traitor who left me?.. yeah, yeah, the one I trusted the most, remember that person?", his hand slid down your hair slowly as he continued, "oh wait, you look a lot like that person..the one who abandoned me".

2005

On New Year's Eve, you told your mum about some weird dreams you were having for the past few days, and of course, being a typical mother, she blamed it on your choices of television series. But you knew it wasn't because of the few Supernatural episodes that you had seen in the span of two months.

From the beginning of time, you were used to seeing terrifying figures randomly, which were avoided at all costs as you were scared of what might turn out if they knew of your existence. However, your parents thought otherwise, resulting in child therapy, which wasn't working yet you pretended it did. You adapted to your surroundings being full of creepy creatures, ignoring them, and trying to live like a normal teenager. That was until the onset of some weird dreams and a malevolent presence under your bed. It was weird, as none of them ever came in close proximity to you. Hence, you started sleeping with your parents again. The nightmares didn't stop; in spite of that, you felt good, safe, and loved, no longer scared.

The peacefulness vanished on the first day of 2006, when you were alone in the house and someone was singing a broken melody. You were petrified as you saw a woman playing a violin emerging from a newborn's skull, singing while rocking to the rhythm in the drawing room, suddenly stopping, turning, and smiling unnaturally at you.

"You would make a beautiful cello."

You bolted as it proceeded to move crookedly in your direction. It was guffawing so loudly that you had to cover your ears. Locking yourself in the bathroom, you called your parents, whispering to them about how much you loved them, until you heard a frightening tune on a piano. The call was disconnected, and the door started melting while you tried to escape from the window you couldn't reach. The room started turning white, and you saw your reflection in the mirror, smiling at you. Your vision blurred as you fell into a slumber.

Waking up, your eyes adjusted to the brightness of a white room. You felt agitated at first, but slowly observing, you saw your parents sitting sadly on a white couch. Thank fuck, it was a hospital room. Their happiness and relief after your recovery from an unexplainable incident couldn't be measured. You were spoiled rotten with love as you woke up after a week of unconsciousness. In the evening of the same day, a bulky man in all black approached your family, discussing something before finally coming to you. He introduced himself as Masamichi Yaga and unfolded the world of Jujutsu sorcerers to you. Though your parents were sure he was a cult member, you felt ecstatic; you weren't crazy after all. With that came many days of convincing, resulting in your parents ultimately agreeing to admit you to Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College after checking its legitimacy a thousand more times. They were not ready to let you go, but they came around as you kept insisting with evidence.

On the way to the campus, the tough-looking man turned out to be a total softie who was explaining to you about your unknown technique and appreciating you for exorcising a grade 2 curse without any training. You were dumbfounded, but you were a sucker for praise, so you didn't question him.

After reaching the campus, you were introduced to your classmates, an almost gloomy Kento Nanami, and a total cutie, Yu Haibara. They were great, especially Haibara, who was currently showing you around the campus. After getting a hot drink, you both settled down on a seat. You weren't expecting to get along with anyone on the very first day, but Haibara's just so sweet that anyone can feel comfortable. He showed you your assigned room, and you guys called it a night.

However, later at night, your slumber was disrupted by a growling stomach at 3 in the morning. It was odd timing for a takeout, but you still gave it a shot, ordering a Zaru Soba with cola. You were surprised at how advanced the Tokyo delivery system was, as you got your delivery within 10 minutes. It tasted better than your expectations, and with that, you started brainstorming ideas to decorate your room, which was interrupted by a knock on the door. You ignored it the first time out of caution, but you opened it on the third knock. To your surprise, a literal god stood in front of you, and you didn't know how to react. "Hey..?", you broke the ice with an awkward greeting.

"I think the delivery guy confused our orders because we ordered the same thing, so I'm assuming this is yours", the Greek god said as he offered you your cola.

"Oh yeah, thanks..um..yeah", you were doing a great job continuing the conversation with your five syllables. Before you could close the door and save your ass from embarrassment, the guy asked for your name, and you told him. Shit, now you felt obligated to ask his name, and so you did. "And you are?"

"Geto Suguru"

Ch 2

270 notes · View notes

hierba-picante · 4 months

Text

I'll Be There Ch. 2

Didn't read chapter 1? Well, here it is!! :]

Edit: Fic is now on AO3!

WEEEE CHAPTER TWO!!

Summary: YIPEEE YOU GOT THE JOB!! :D Now you gotta tell your little brother the good news!

Word Count: 7.7k!

Tags!: gn!reader, many hijinks, no use of y/n, Gregory is a little shit, the daycare attendants are goofy, Moon, Sun, and Eclipse are all separate animatronics!, Daycare attendants have transatlantic accents, Alternate universe- Canon Divergence, self insert, 2nd person POV, slight angst, comfort,

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Gregory finished his last bite of pizza, happily taking a sip of his soda to wash it down. The pizza itself was one of the best he’d eaten. Served hot and loaded with cheese and sauce, each bite was just as good as the last. The crust itself was good too. Garlic seasoning on it with specks of cheese baked on top of it. Pleased with himself, he packed his left overs in the box it came in. He couldn’t help the swing of his legs as he looked around the food court, absentmindedly drumming his full stomach.

“But…I wanted that one…I want the cone” her voice cracked.

Noting the few families sitting at their assigned tables, he glanced at a pair of siblings. An older brother laughed as his little sister spilled ice cream on the table. Her fishbowl eyes watering as she stared blankly at her now empty ice cream cone. Her brother grabbed a napkin and wiped her face clean. Taking a new napkin, he dried her tears.

“Come on, I’ll buy you a new one. In a cup this time okay?” he cooed as he helped his sister out of her chair.

The older brother gave a small smile and picked her up. “You still have your cone, you can take a bite of it as you eat your new ice cream.”

Her eyes twinkled, “Yeah! I can!” Her legs excitedly kicked against her brother’s abdomen. He winced a bit as he carried her away.

Your little brother couldn’t help the slump in his shoulders. When was your interview done? How long could a retail position take to interview? He grumbled as he sunk in his chair. Irritated eyes glancing over to another family at a table.

Two parents were seated with their baby boy and daughter. Their father was cleaning the little boy’s face while their daughter took bites out of a pizza. Gregory’s posture straightened a bit, watching the parents give attention to the boy. He felt the ends of his mouth curl downwards. The father’s phone rang. He briefly looked down at it, dismissing himself from the table with a kiss to his wife. Passing his toddler over to his oldest, who happily carried him on her lap. She offered a sip of cola to her sibling, who excitedly grabbed at the straw. Their mother affectionately tucked the hair behind her daughter’s ear.

Gregory ripped his eyes away from the happy family and took a shaky breath. Clammy hands gripping his box of pizza as he walked away. Jealousy gripped at his chest. Your interview had to have been done by now, it just had to.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄

Pansy had walked you out of the daycare, showing you how to use your employee watch. It was a baby blue banded wrist accessory, adorned with happy clouds smiling up at you. She showed you how to open the door and reminded you to not worry about locking it. It had its own self locking system. Amongst door accessibility there was also communication within the watch. Not just from Pansy but from the company as well. They had been kind enough to implement a small map you were able to open in the watch if you needed. A little orange dot to mark where you currently were. An emergency call option was also given to you, in the case you didn’t have your phone on you.

Your new manager also left you with a bag for your uniforms. There were three to choose from, each with a duplicate to use in between washes. The first one shined with yellow colors. A yellow short sleeve button up with, of course, suns dancing across it. Paired with a sun ray headband. The second was a navy blue short sleeve button up, stars with sleepy expressions leading towards the ends of the shirt. A night cap was given for this uniform. The appearance of sleepy stars littering the cap. The last uniform was a calming orange, short sleeve button up. Little eclipsed suns fashioned in a linear pattern. Another sunny ray headband similar to the last one, only this pair was two toned to match Eclipse’s own rays. You just had to make sure you wore work appropriate pants and shoes. They gave you the freedom to accessorize your uniforms, even offering you a handful of patches and pins of the daycare attendants to use.

Placing the headpiece back into your gifted tote bag, you reached for your phone to call your brother. You smiled as you swiped through your contacts. Oblivious to him already walking over to you. Your walking stuttered to a halt as you felt his forehead fall to your stomach.

“Greg! I was just going to call you, I got the job!” you cheerily greeted him with good news. He stayed silent. Quirking an eyebrow, you set your phone in your bag and gave him your full attention. “Hey…Gregory?”

The car ride was quiet with the exception of faint radio. You'd glance over to him every now and then to see his eyes glued to the window. Watching the world pass by in front of him. Thoughts swarmed your brain as you tried coming up with remedies for his state of mind. Maybe you guys could watch a movie. You could buy his favorite snacks and let him pick the film. Watching a movie would demand his entire attention. Or you could get back to teaching him how to crochet. Something to keep his hands busy would keep his mind off things. You'd see which one he'd prefer once you got to that point.

Still nothing.

The new items sat on the floor next to your feet. This wasn’t like your brother. You were expecting him to give some sort of light hearted snide remark. Or even congrats. But there was nothing. You kneeled down in front of him and cradled his face with one hand. “Are you okay? Did something happen while I was gone?”

Finally, he raised his eyes up to meet yours. His once smirking eyes were now puffy and red. Your brows knitted together as you inspected his face for any hints as to why he came to you like this. Taking a look at his hands, you gave them a once over as well. Arms and legs, nothing new.

“I’m here now, what do you need?” you offered. His pizza box in his hands crumpled in between his fingers. He couldn’t help the sob that left his gritted teeth.

Immediately, you took the box from his hands and offered your own for him to hold. He took them without hesitation, using them to hide his face. You wiped his tears away and moved his hair out of his eyes. Glancing around to see where he came from, you noticed the food court some feet away. Watching a family leave with happy smiles. Hiding the growing worry on your face, you smiled softly at him, now understanding what was causing his distress. You pulled away and offered your name tag for him to look at. He sniffled and tilted the plastic side to side. Dimly watching it change between three images. Slinging your bag on your shoulder, you carried him with one arm and his pizza leftovers with the other.

Upon arriving home, Gregory stood by the door with his pizza, waiting for you to grab your things. He watched you twist the keys to the door and stared as you left your bags by the coat rack.

“I saw a family today...” he muttered under his breath. Pausing your actions, you gave him your full attention. “I was...jealous,” he admitted. You gently took the box out of his hand and placed it on the couch.

“And...sad…sad I don't remember how our parents were…” Your heart squeezed as you listened to your little brother.

Gregory was very young when the accident happened. No older than six. You yourself were still a child, halfway done with high school. It was a traumatic experience for the both of you, but Gregory had been there to witness all of it in its entirety. You were at a friend's house studying at that time. It wouldn't be surprising to you if the trauma caused Gregory to block out a lot of his childhood. That includes his memories of mom and dad.

“I have some old family albums, we can look through them together,” you offered as you began to take your shoes off. “I'll tell you stories too, anything you want.”

Your brother sat on the couch. “That'd be nice…” he trailed off. Kicking off his own shoes without much effort. He curled himself into the cushions. “I'd…like that…” he murmured.

Turning to face him, you watched as his breathing relaxed. His breath was slow and long. Eyes closed and peaceful. He'd fallen asleep. You watched solemnly. Walking over to him, you scooped him up just like you had when he was small. He didn't move at all, completely limp in your arms. Only moving to cuddle his way into your neck. Giving a big sigh through his nose once he was comfortable.

You glanced over at the clock to check the time. 3:32. Too early for a nap. But, you couldn't blame him. You didn't know how long he'd been crying before he came to you. He used up so much of his energy that it completely exhausted him. As you made your way up the stairs, you couldn't help the soothing circular motions your hands wove into his back.

Gently, you turned the doorknob to your shared room. Your side of the room hadn't changed much. Just a new desk and some new pictures you've made a habit of thumb tacking to the wall. Gregory's had a new bed to accommodate his growing size. His small child desk had been switched out with your old one. He had his own fairy lights strung along his wall, a few books littering his bed, and some sketch books. Your brother had grown up to take an interest in drawing. Nothing too serious, just fun doodles of robots and whatever cartoon he'd seen that day.

Cradling him with one arm, you leaned a bit to push his books off, making sure to break their fall with your foot each time one fell. You leaned a bit too far as you reached for a stray sketchbook. Causing his limp body to sway off yours. Immediately, you cradle his head and gently place him back against your chest. Staying still to see if his breathing had changed. Nope, same relaxed breathing. You gave a quiet “phew” as you pulled his sheets aside. Carefully placing him in his bed, you watched as his brows weakly met. He reached back for you once he felt your warmth had gone. Laughing softly, you brought his sheets over him. His hands immediately grabbed at the fabric. He brought them to his chin and nuzzled himself into the pillow. Face once again peaceful as he continued to sleep.

Softly tracing your thumb against his cheek, your smile fell. Eyes following his still present tear stains. You couldn't clean them now, you'd already disturbed his sleep. Not wanting to disturb his sleep, you stood up and left the room. Keeping the door ajar and making sure the fairy lights had been turned on. You could go out and follow your initial movie plan. But, that'd mean leaving Greg here alone. The thought of doing so after all that made your stomach churn. No, you wouldn't leave him by himself.

There was crocheting too. You made your way to the living room to see if you still had enough materials. Opening the closet, they smiled back at you. The threading hooks were still in their bins along with some thick pastel pink yarn. Checking off the list in your head, you then walked to the kitchen. The cupboards hoarded your various mugs and loose leaf tea assortments, all waiting to come together for a warm cup. Chamomile could be a good choice, even hibiscus. A quiet evening home could do him some good. Then again, so would the movie. A walk out to the store to get some fresh air after all that sounded nice.

You couldn't decide on what to do. You grit your teeth, and painfully grind them. You ultimately decided to let him make the choice. That'd allow him more freedom and give him enough space to feel more in control again. Yeah! The grinding of your teeth stopped as you happily got started on some dinner.

Chicken and rice was what you both usually had. For one, the rice was easy to come by in giant bags. And two, chicken was the least expensive protein you could get your hands on. Gregory preferred his grilled and seasoned with lemon. Normally you'd have left the meat to marinate overnight, but you fell asleep at your desk the night before. Your brother would have done it himself, but he too fell asleep at his desk. A habit you felt guilty of passing down onto him.

Getting lost in your thoughts, you made quick work of washing the rice. Running through five rinses, the water pooled up clear. The rice cooker beeped joyfully as you put in the bowl of rice, happy to have been fed. Your feet absentmindedly carried you to the fridge. Reaching down, you grabbed two lemons to season your chicken with. As you made your way back to the counter, you grabbed a knife and the cutting board along with a bowl. The zest of the lemons’ scent struck your nose as you cut into its flesh. Bringing the bowl to your side, you began to squeeze out its juices, making sure to pick out any seeds that had fallen in. You set the squeezed halves aside to use as candy for later.

Your mind drifted to the times you and Gregory made sweet treats out of lemon and orange peels. They were his favorite in the beginning, but they were quickly pushed aside once you introduced him to gummy bears. It's been a while since the two of you had any homemade candy. Now there was another option to help your brother unwind. Some good old fashioned family bonding. Aside from peel candies, you'd make ‘cakes’. No baking involved. Just some packaged cookies, cream, canned fruit slices and some sugar. The cookies would be used to border a container and layer the cream and fruit. With a dusting of sugar to go on top. You could make those too if he decided he wanted to.

Your eyes glanced at the clock, four twenty-nine, fingers absentmindedly brushing against the lemon peels. Your mind blanks as you watch the clock's small hand glide over the numbers.

Something's missing...

You glanced back down to the bowl of lemon juice then to the empty cutting board. Scoffing to yourself, your palm made contact with your forehead.

PeyPey snuck his way around the sleeping children. Carefully carrying a random sock he'd found. His partner, Caro, was weaving her way through the sea of sleeping bags. The daycare's guests had been put down for a nap. All faintly snoring, some louder than others. Disorganized at first glance, but each child belonged to a small group.

The chicken.

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Some children couldn't sleep unless all lights were off, others had trouble without a night light. Then there were kids who slept like tornados. The attendants took care in organizing where each kid would go.

A handful would sleep furthest away from any lightsource, they were Moon’s. He was the best at seeing things in the dark and was the stealthiest among the others. He took pride in knowing no kid would wake up on his watch. Anytime he noticed one stirring, he'd simply hum a soothing tune. Ten times out of ten they'd get right back to snoring.

Another group would sleep closer to a window who's curtain opened slightly at the bottom. They were Sun's. His rays produced a faint light, allowing him to sit peacefully in the center of the sleeping children. In the past, he had a notorious streak of waking everyone up, so he was more than happy to sit and act as their nightlight.

The remaining kids were left to Eclipse, PeyPey, and Caro. Their group of children could sleep anywhere. The three attendants often had to make sure their kids weren't sleeping in painful positions or pulling blankets over their faces. Naturally, the couple's tiny size allowed them to easily do their work without waking anyone up. Eclipse mainly sat in guard, watching for anything that could happen. Offering his strength when his small two friends needed it.

As the hour went on, Sun couldn't help but ping his friends with a little message through their shared server.

“When do you think the gift shop will be done?? I'm ecstatic to see our new coworker again!!” His eagerness was kept well hidden by his shut eyes.

“Not long, I've seen where they keep the merchandising and sweets. Perhaps a day or two?” Moon offered his input as he delicately placed a child's hand back into their sleeping bag.

“All in due time. Though, with all the staff bots moving around I'd say a day at most,” Eclipse commented.

“A day sounds right, I'd say,” PeyPey agreed as he sat down next to Eclipse.

“Maybe even half a day if we're lucky!” Caro added as she settled on the other side of her towering friend.

Sun's rays couldn't help but spin at the notion. Half a day? Why that'd mean you'd be here tomorrow morning! He couldn't wait to see you again. A new coworker meant a new friend! A new friend meant more fun and memories to have! He calmed his rays as he snuck a glance through the curtain peak. As expected, staff bots running about with arms full of supplies. Some brought in signs that required the aid of two to carry.

“Caro might be right, the gift shop looks as good as finished! They're just organizing the shelves and adding some signage to the walls!!” Sun exclaimed.

“And it's only five thirty! The plex doesn't close until ten!” she excitedly pointed out, drumming Eclipse's leg. The latter chuckled and turned to glance at his twin, “Looks like we'll be seeing them tomorrow then.”

“New coworker, New gift shop, we might be busy tomorrow too. If this new spot gets advertised enough,” Moon pointed out. His faceplate resting in his palms as he watched his enamored twin keep track of all the staff bots. “I wonder what kind of person we'll get to know tomorrow”.

PeyPey chimed in. “A new one,” he laughed quietly to himself and his girlfriend couldn't help but snort.

Moon's eyes rolled. “Ah yes, how could I not have expected that.” He smiled over to the smaller animatronics.

“A completely new one, one we've very much never, ever seen before,” Caro teased as a smirk danced across her face.

“Alright, alright, keep that up and I won't let you hang around that smart alec anymore,” Moon challenged as his own smirk grew.

The female animatronic gasped as she scrambled to hide in Eclipse's lap. Her partner followed after her.

“Moon, dear brother, please don't joke like that. She has a hard time telling the difference.” The orange brother frowned at his lunar sibling.

“Darling, I wouldn't let that happen. Come out please,” PeyPey attempted to coax her out.

Moon sighed, guilt dripping into his chest. “I didn't mean it. I'd never take you away from your boyfriend, dear. I'm sorry.”

Caro peeked her head out, “Never ever?” Her hand reached out to meet PeyPey's.

The moon laughed, “Never ever.”

The female animatronic happily took PeyPey's hand and yanked him into Eclipse's lap. The pair giggling as their tall friend shook his head.

He felt like he was babysitting the couple now. “I wish Moon would,” his comment fell on deaf ears.

You and Gregory sat at the small dinner table, sharing the meal you just finished preparing. He smiled as he took another bite of rice and chicken. Tear stains gone and his eyes now well rested. The color in his face was restored as well. Your cheeks rose as you watched him eat. It was relieving to see him back to his usual self.

Sun's rays danced. “Puppy looove~” he sang.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄

“So, Greg, what do you wanna do after dinner?” you asked as you took a sip of your water. Ready to give him your previously planned options should he not have an idea already.

Your brother hummed in thought, “We could go back to the pizzaplex if you want,” he replied with his mouthful.

Nearly choking on your water, you took in a big gulp to avoid it. “But, do you want to?” you asked him with sincere curiosity and a bit of worry.

Gregory gently danced his head side to side, happily chewing on another bite of food. “Yeah, I wanna.” He smiled up at you from across the table.

You nodded. “Is it alright if I ask why?” You prepared yourself for whatever answer he could give. It was safe to assume he'd want a bit of space from the place after what happened that afternoon. But to want to go back now? It concerned you a bit.

He looked off to the side. “I want to have a better experience, one with you.” He blinked away his embarrassment. Briefly flitting his eyes to yours before looking away again.

The strings of your heart tugged as you replayed his reasoning in your head. “Aww, Greggy!” You couldn't help but get out of your chair and immediately pepper kisses into his hair.

“Agh—! Hey!” he fussed. Half pushing you away with one arm and half allowing you to smother him.

You chuckled and placed one last kiss on his cheek. “You don't let me baby you anymore.” Faking a pout at him, you leaned down to be eye level with him.

He rolled his eyes. “Yea, cause you act stupid.” He smirked and watched you gasp.

“Nuh uh,” you retorted as you walked back to your seat.

“Yuh huh, you do,” he challenged with a laugh. “You say stuff like ‘Aw my little Greggy! My good little Greggy eggy baby boy!’” he mocked.

Your eyes narrowed, “What else do you expect from your ‘favoritest favorite person’?” It was your turn to smirk as his jaw shut closed. “Your ‘bestest sib ever!’ or how about ‘the coolest sib’?” challenging his taunt with two of your own.

“I'm surprised you remember those,” he grumbled as he poked at the few remaining rice grains on his plate.

You took your victory with a bow. “I could never forget such titles,” you said, a smirk growing as you took your last bite of food. “But, yes, I'll take you there. What time is it?” you asked.

He glanced at the clock above your head. “Seven fifteen,” he answered.

You chugged the last of your water and rose up from your seat. “Alrighty then, go grab your shoes. We have about three hours ‘til they close,”giving your brother orders as you push your chair.

He excitedly ran over to the living room. Nearly tripping himself as he came back to push in his chair and place his dishes in the sink. Your eyes follow him as you let the warm water run. Doing the dishes now could waste some of your limited time, so you opted for letting them soak until the two of you came back home.

The excited thumps of shoes sounded in your ear as you dried your hands off with the kitchen rag. You couldn't help but laugh to yourself. Gregory was, without a doubt, a little shit. But, on occasion, he was a cute kid. Which, in your eyes, was all the time. Little shit or not, he was cute regardless. Especially now as he ran back to you and stopped at your side.

“Come on! Get your shoes!” he hurried you while pulling you to the living room.

“I'm coming, I'm coming!” Your laughter never leaves as you reach your shoes by the door.

“They have the best pizza there! Come on, let's go share one! Oh—and ice cream!” He resumed pulling you out the door. You gave your boots a quick toe kick to the ground as you followed him, feeling them secure to your feet.

“We just ate, pudge!” You cackled watching him open the car door for you. “Plus you have leftovers from earlier!”

“I'm a growing boy, I can use more food!” He scrambled into the passenger seat. Too excited to walk around to enter properly, he wormed his way in from your lap.

You wiped the growing tears in your eyes. “Can't argue with that.” Watching him click his seat belt in and kick his feet in excitement.

Upon arriving at the pizzaplex, you couldn't help but notice the stark difference in the parking lot. It was a lot more full now compared to when you arrived for your interview. Finding a parking spot was a nightmare. Numerous times you had to turn back into the same line, thinking you saw a space available. Only to be met with disappointment as the space was taken by a small car. Gregory had his head sticking out the window trying to find a good spot.

“There!! Right there!!” he shouted and pointed to an empty spot.

Immediately you swerved into it, promptly backing up slowly to properly align yourself within the lines. You glanced at the sign in front of you, squinting as you tried to read the small writing. ‘Employee parking only,’ it read. You looked around and noticed you were at the front of the plex. After so much back and forth, you felt silly to not think of looking for this type of spot initially.

“Alright, let's go eat some pizza,” you said as you reached for your bag. Gregory gave a celebratory shout before climbing out of the car.

You made sure to attach your daycare watch to your wrist, just in case anyone asked about your choice in parking. It'd also help to familiarize yourself with its features.

The automatic doors welcomed you in. The sounds of arcade games and the clamoring of voices overlapping each other was all enough to make your head spin. The ping of your watch grabbed your attention. Glancing down, you quickly swiped at the notification on the screen.

“What's that?” Gregory half shouted over the numerous sounds.

“My work watch, looks like they fixed up a schedule for me already,” you answered.

To your delight, you'd been given a consistent schedule. Mondays through Fridays you'd work from 9 am to 5:30 pm. You had two ten minute breaks as well as a paid lunch break that had been scheduled into your work days. Luckily for you, that meant work would start tomorrow—tomorrow being Wednesday. Viewing all the chaos before you, you were grateful you'd be done with work before it got to be this crazy. The perks of working in an area with smaller children.

The daycare had closed its doors a little more than an hour ago. Staff Bots were roaming around and picking up any small debris the attendants might have missed. The lights dimmed once everything had been cleaned and sanitized. Which left the daycare attendants to retire to their rooms behind the stage.

Your attention is pulled by your brother leading you to a nearby food court. He looks back at you with a smile. A laugh rumbled in your chest as you watched him with adoring eyes. Happiness sprung into your heart, overjoyed your new job allowed you to see this side of Gregory.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄

Admittedly, while PeyPey and Caro were naturally the same height as the other attendants, they preferred to unwind in their smaller forms. Often sleeping in the room of whomever had been carrying them that evening. PeyPey yawned and curled himself into a complete ball in Sun's arms.

“Aww, someone needs to be put to charge~” Sun cooed as he opened the door to his room.

Pale yellow walls with warm orange light fixtures in the shapes of suns danced into view. A bed with white sheets laid at the corner. It had an orange bed frame to match the room. On the opposite side stood a wooden desk with small doodads in its cubbies. The tiled flooring was a happy yellow. Small plants in clear acrylic vases hung about his room. Some floral, others just greenery. An orange loveseat sat just a few feet away from his desk.

His small friend hummed in agreement as he briefly opened his eyes, “Where's Caro?”

The solar animatronic settled him into a small nest of blankets and pillows atop his desk. “She wanted to go for a night stroll with Eclipse!” A small charging pad rested beneath the small animatronic.

“I wanna go see her,” PeyPey groaned to himself as he tried swimming out of the blankets.

Sun quickly bundled him up. “No no sir, you need to charge! Your battery is running at five percent,” he frowned. He tried not to laugh as he watched his friend squirm in the swaddle of sheets.

The small animatronic frowned up at Sun, squinting at him. “I can find her just fine on a five percent charge,” he grumbled.

“As your friend and handler, I insist that you stay put and don’t push yourself,” Sun calmly stated.

PeyPey growled and rolled over to his side, facing his back towards Sun, causing the latter to gasp loudly, then stick his tongue out, fully aware that his small friend wouldn’t be able to see.

Moon knocked on his brother’s door. “Sun? Is something the matter?”

The twin jumped at the sound, scrambling to his feet as he ran to open the door. “Moony! I was just putting PeyPey down for an early charge, but he insisted on seeing his girlfriend.” His optics glared at the bundled animatronic. Who, in turn, glared back at the mention of his name.

The lunar animatronic chuckled at the news. “So why don’t you let him? If he can’t go to her, just ping her to come here,” he suggested.

Sun’s shoulders rose in a shrug. “I’d been so wrapped up in trying to charge him that the thought completely slipped my mind…” He turned back and watched PeyPey’s tired eyes slowly blink one after the other.

The solar animatronic looked amongst the many children. “Which one is yours?”

With a sigh, he did what his twin recommended him to do.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄

Eclipse had been walking around a food court with Caro on his shoulder. Animatronics weren’t gifted with taste buds, but they still had receptors to feel. It just so happened that Eclipse favored the sensation spicy foods brought. His usual meal consisted of nachos swimming in hot sauce and jalapeňos. As well as a cup of pickled jalapeňo juice to wash it all down with. His brothers weren’t much of a spice fan as he was. Moon favored sour tasting things, enough so to keep eating them until the acids scarred his synthetic skin. Sun, on the other hand, liked sweets the most. The only word he could use to describe the taste was light and happy. That meant more scorching spice for Eclipse, which he was happy about. The seven foot tall animatronic excitedly got in line. The thought of his nachos made him bounce on the balls of his feet excitedly. So much so that he failed to notice his new coworker in line right in front of him. But Caro was fully aware.

“Interviewee!” she excitedly called from Eclipse’s shoulder.

You and Eclipse jumped at the sudden shout. Hesitantly, you turned to see the source of the sound. A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you looked up to see your new coworkers. Minding the other eyes staring, you began to converse with them. “Ah—hello you two. Eclipse and Caro, right?”

The two nodded their heads. “Right you are, dear,” Eclipse answered. He curiously eyed you, “Say…what’re you doing around here? Not that we mind, do forgive me. But, last I checked, we don’t see you until tomorrow morning.”

Caro gasped. “You’re right! What’re you doing here newbie?” she asked you.

You swallowed down a laugh as the two animatronics prodded you to answer. “I’m here with my little brother, Gregory!”

His small friend jumped off his shoulder. “I gotta go!”

Caro's burst nearly makes your eyes pop out of their sockets. The taller animatronic scrambling to reach for her.

“Hey! Where are you running off to?” he called out to her.

“I got a ping from Sun! I'll be back!” she hollered back as she wove her way through guests.

Eclipse sighed. “Well, uhm...where were we…Right! Where's your little yoot at?”

Your hand pointed towards a booth. There, Gregory sat while swinging his legs. Happily munching on a slice of pizza, blissfully unaware of the set of eyes on him.

“Aww, he's a darling one,” your coworker commented. “He takes after you, I suppose.”

The line continued to move as the two of you talked.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

The animatronic hesitated for a moment. “You both have a certain disposition…hmm...Happy? Content? Generally positive I'd say.”

Your brow raised curiously, “Do we now?”

He nodded, glancing back at your brother. “Yes, you both may look different, but I can tell the two of you are siblings. The way you carry yourselves is what nails it down. Why, I can picture you eating that pizza. Take me and my brothers for example. While physically I match Sun more, my personality is more like Moon's. We both have a sort of calm air about us. I'm sure our first run-in was evident of that,” he chuckled to himself.

A snort escaped you. “Hard to argue with such compelling evidence...I guess I forget to notice the way I carry myself,” you admitted.

The line drew you both closer to the front counter.

“I’m sorry, dear, I didn't mean to make you feel self-conscious,” he apologized with a hand on your shoulder.

“Oh—! No you didn't, really! I just don't pay much attention to myself is all—haha,” nervous laughter creaked out of your mouth.

You weren't much of a conversationalist either. Your nervousness clearly showed as you tried to remain calm. What a great first impression this was.

Eclipse seemed to notice your unease, taking away his hand as he inspected you with his optics. He took your word as true. You had bags under your eyes, a faint purple hue dusting them. Your hair a mess, and…was that a grain of rice on your cheek?

“Come here, you have a little something over there,” he motioned his cheek with his hand.

You squeaked in embarrassment, quickly brushing the spot. “Did I get it?” not noticing the grain was still there.

Your coworker smiled. “No, here let me just...” he trailed off. He chuckled as he leaned down, “Silly.” His metallic finger tip made contact with your skin.

His comment was enough to have you feel sparks from your face to the roots of your hair. The gesture alone could set you on fire. Your eyes shut from embarrassment as you felt him gently swipe at the grain. Giving you a satisfied hum, he pulled away.

“There we are, spick and span,” he complimented as he dusted off your shoulder.

The line moved once more. It was your turn to order, but you were wrapped up in staring at your coworker. He maintained eye contact with you, curiously eyeing your face for any other grains. Satisfied when he saw nothing else, he darted his eyes off to the side before looking into yours once more.

“...Do I have something on my face?” he questioned.

“N-no! Uhm…” you trailed off.

“Next in line please,” the staff bot snapped you out of your thoughts.

Shaking the embarrassment off, you walked up to the counter. “Hello! Can I please get two ice cream cones? One vanilla and one neapolitan?”

The staff bot nodded its head and pressed some things into the register screen. “Will that be all for you today?” it asked.

“Yes, please,” you nodded, reaching for your card.

Eclipse snatched your wallet. “Ah-ah—employees eat for free here. Didn't they tell you that?”

You gasped excitedly. “You're right! I can't believe I forgot Pansy mentioned that!” You turned back to the staff bot before quickly whipping your head back to Eclipse. “How—how do I show that I'm an employee? I don't have my name tag with me.”

Your colleague chuckled, glancing down at the blue accessory on your wrist. “You have your daycare watch on, don't you?”

You were immediately thankful you remembered to bring it along with you, but feeling silly you forgot you had it, you tapped at its screen. Flipping through different faces, you landed on your employee ID. Scrolling down did nothing. But when you swiped to the side, the little digital card flipped to show a barcode.

“Do I show them this?” you questioned Eclipse. Making sure to reach your wrist up high enough so he can see.

He delicately held your hand. “Correct!” Giving a pleased nod, he gently brought your hand back to you.

Your excitement bubbled as you showed the staff bot your digital ID. It stared at it briefly before grabbing a hand scanner. The red led light made contact, showing the transfer was complete with a beep.

“Employee number 1-b-987, a pleasure to meet you. I will be right back with your order,” the staff bot disappeared to the back all without turning its back to you.

“PeyPey, please just ping me the next time you want me here,” Caro whispered as she cuddled up with him in the blankets.

You took this moment to examine your coworker. He was true to his word. While his warm color palette and sunny rays were reminiscent of his brother, Sun, his demeanor wasn't like his at all. Sun was, well, very sunny. A literal ball of sunshine. Eager, peppy, joyful, it was enough to make you smile at the memory of your first meeting. Eclipse was more reserved, calm. You haven't had the chance to fully meet Moon beforehand. The only instance being when he apologized for his brother's behavior and quickly introduced himself and the others. Eclipse hasn't lied to you yet, so you could only assume Moon really was as similar.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄

Her boyfriend chuckled as he pulled her in closer. “I will.” His smile widening as he stared into her eyes, “You're really pretty.”

She smiled and rolled her eyes, “Uh-huh, and you're very handsome and pretty and sweet and loving,” she rambled. “But stupid.”

The small animatronic choked on his air. “Nuh-uh, nuh-uh.”

Sun had been sitting on his bed, messing around with a little puzzle cube a child gifted him. “Yea, listen to your girlfriend,” he suggested.

Moon was sitting beside him, watching him fiddle with the piece of plastic, “I agree.”

PeyPey groaned before laughing sheepishly, “Is it because I wanted to go looking for you with only five percent?”

Caro nodded, her eyes never leaving him. “You need to take better care of yourself,” she frowned.

The small animatronic shifted in the nest of blankets. “I will, I'll try to be better, I'm sorry.”

She smiled at him. “Thank you.” She sat up and turned her attention to the twins before her. “Can one of you two get me an order of nachos? The same way Eclipse gets them?”

Moon lifted himself off the bed. “Swimming in hot sauce with jalapeños?” he questioned with a stretch.

She nodded, “Yea! Oh and please tell the interviewee I said sorry, I ran off in the middle of a conversation with them.”

Sun sprang up and nearly tripped over himself, “They're here?? Now??” His lunar brother rubbed his side that he bumped into.

Caro smugly eyed the excited animatronic. “Yessir, they're in the food court with Eclipse.

Chatting up a storm.”

Moon bowed his head, glancing up at his brother. “Well, safe to assume you're coming with me?” he grinned.

Sun excitedly nodded and grabbed hold of his brother's hand. “We'll be back, Caro!” He raced off with Moon catching up to his pace, hand in hand.

PeyPey chuckled. “I think your snack is gonna be a while.”

His girlfriend laughed and cuddled into his embrace. “I don't mind. Now get some rest.”

You stood by with your ice cream cones in hand, talking it up with your coworker as he waited for his order. You learned that he was the youngest of his brothers. The completion for his model was a week after his two brothers were finished. So, by a technicality, Moon and Sun were twins. He was their little brother. But, neither of his older brothers viewed it this way. To them, they were all the same age. Might as well be given the fact they were all checked off as public ready on the same day.

Her boyfriend hummed and held her tighter. “Yes, boss.”

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄

“The day I met them, they were so ecstatic. I could really feel their electricity, you know,” Eclipse reminisced.

He looked longingly at his own hands. “I was so scared, petrified even. The idea that I was to become this extravagant entertainer. It made my casings shake. But, everything came easy once I finally got to meet my brothers,” his hands clasping together.

You smiled at his story, a warm feeling in your chest.

“Sun and Moon…I can't imagine a day without them. I spent my first activation days alone in an empty room. Nobody would talk to me, not even the mechanics. And when I did get to talk to somebody, it was great news! It was Pansy who told me I'd be meeting bots like me—brothers even! Sun was so kind and patient, and Moon was so gentle and made sure I was comfortable in the space I was in. I couldn't have asked for better brothers…Don't tell them I said that, they won't let me live it down,” he laughed and gave you a playful tap on your shoulder.

A whistle fell from your mouth. “I won't tell a soul,” smiling up at him with your proclamation.

His laughter hummed in his chest, “My brothers mean everything to me. They're the reason I can do anything at all. Sun gave me optimism and Moon gave me confidence. One day, I'll pay it back to them. I'll find a way to repay them for everything they've done for me,” he said to himself mainly, but to you as well.

You also learned that Eclipse wouldn't be getting his own smaller friend. It just wasn't planned. PeyPey was assigned to Sun initially, but later on signed off to Eclipse as well. Caro was assigned to Moon exclusively. Each pairing has a special server that allows for exclusive connection and remote controlling. Of course, neither brother felt comfortable enough to use the remote option. Eclipse explained it felt wrong and immoral. Rightfully so. They weren't keen on keeping secrets either. The only time that had ever happened was when Caro had developed feelings for Peypey and would spam Moon's notifications with messages.

Eclipse laughed. “You'd think they were made for each other wouldn't you?”

You urgently nodded, excited to hear more of their pasts.

He sighed. “Truth be told, she was programmed to be Moon's girl.”

You dropped your cones. “Huh?!” A gasp slipped from your mouth as your eyes shot down to your fallen desserts.

Your colleague rumbled with laughter as he reached for napkins. Leaning down, he made quick work of the mess.

“Does that mean PeyPey was supposed to…?” you trailed off in thought as you watched him clean.

“Be with Sun? Nope. The initial idea for our group was to be the guys band. Be the sort of all male talent engine, y’know? Caro wasn't supposed to be able to play any instruments, she was supposed to play the role of Moon's ‘lovely lady.’ Chime in on a few songs here and there. And, I suppose it worked like that for a while. But, neither her nor Moon liked it,” Eclipse sucked in a gulp of air through his teeth. He stood tall.

“Management wouldn't listen to either of them. It became a weekly visit to parts and services for the two of them,” He looked down at the floor. “Constant rewiring…it was awful. I couldn't stand seeing their forced smiles.”

You placed a gentle hand on his, urging him to continue.

A smile crept up on his face. “Sun and PeyPey changed everything. My brother taught Caro how to play guitar, even went out of his way to find internet videos about other instruments and how to play them. PeyPey used all of his free time on Moon and Caro. Showing them ways to calm down and prevent any more visits to parts and services. Pretty soon, PeyPey started developing feelings for her. Just in time too, management couldn't keep up with Moon and Caro. They ultimately decided to give the two and the rest of us free will,” he triumphantly stated.

“Thank you for sharing that with me, Eclipse. I feel honored that you view me as someone you can tell this to.” Your cheeks warm as you give him the most genuine smile he's seen from you.

“And thank you for listening! I didn't mean to ramble that much—you have a really welcoming air about you,” he comments with a spin of his rays.

“Interviewee!” an outburst rang from behind the two of you.

Both of your heads swivel as Sun and Moon make their way to the two of you.

“Speak of the devil,” Eclipse teases you with a gentle jab to your shoulder. You snicker and playfully shove him.

Speak of the devil indeed.

TAGLIST WEEE!!

@cosmog-mcgee

@antwithwaffles

End of the second chapter!! Similar to the previous chapter, my good friend, MY BOOBOOBEAAAAR @by-the-chapel-gates was my beta reader!!💖💝💘:D Many thanks goes to her!! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter as well!💖💝GRACIAS!!!💖💝Please leave your thoughts below!

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