#a lot of this makes it seem like path is some 'i only care about the Timeline and being the Interceptor' but like | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sailorkamino · 2 years

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Hospital Bed Confessions

relationships: jake lockley x fem!reader, established marc spector x fem!reader, steven grant x fem!reader

word count: 2k

summary: As long as Jake can remember he's only had Marc and Steven to protect - then you came into the picture. Jake is scared to admit just how much you mean to him until you're injured, then he can no longer hide his feelings.

warnings: car accident/hospitalization/injuries, protective (but soft) jake, referenced childhood abuse, non sexual showering together, little bit of jealous!jake, jake has never been in a healthy/loving relationship and it shows.

translations: cariño- dear, princesa- princess, mi vida- my life, muñeca- doll

‘Has Y/N sent her home text yet?’ Steven asks from his reflection in Gus’ II’s and Gil’s fish tank. Jake looks away from the TV, “her what?” His alter looks annoyed, ‘you know what I’m talking about. The text She sends everynight to tell us she got home safe.’

Jake sighs dramatically picking up their shared phone. When he sees the late time illuminated on the screen something twists in his gut. Ever since you started dating Steven, and later Marc, you would send daily texts to whoever was fronting. The amount would vary depending on your workload but there were always three constants: good morning, I’m home, good night.

Jake clenches his jaw. He tells himself he’s being irrational, clingy even. He tries to keep his voice even when he responds. “No, but she said she was working late.”

This time it’s Marc that speaks up. ‘She should definitely be home by now. Call her.’

“You two are so dramatic,” he grumbles, although he was about to do that anyway. You don’t answer. Jake tries to ignore the worry churning in his gut. You’re an adult, you don’t need him hovering, but something feels off. Marc and Steven are pestering him to go to your flat but he barks at them in Spanish, trying to gather his own thoughts. A notification has them all freezing.

Jake takes only a moment to read the message before an unreadable expression flickers across his face. He bolts out of the flat, leaving his altars in the dark. If you heard the way he was yelling at the cabbie to hurry up you would be pissed but manners are the last thing on his mind. Once the car comes to a stop he throws some money (including a tip because he’s not a monster) at the poor driver before jumping out.

He’s practically running through the hallways, ignoring the poor doctors and nurses dodging his path. Finally he finds the room. He bursts through the door but the sight before him makes him freeze. He’s seen, and done, many violent things but seeing you hurt is something he’ll never forget.

You peer at him for a moment, taking in the unfamiliar stance and the way he holds his jaw, before a tired smile spreads across your cut lips, “Jake.” He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and approaches your bed. His hands clench by his sides. He wants to touch you, reassure himself that you’re here, but he’s afraid of hurting you worse. “You should see the other guy,” you joke. He doesn’t laugh, eyes becoming impossibly darker.

“What happened?”

You blink slowly at him. You know Jake is incredibly protective but you had never witnessed it towards you. Jake has always kept you at arms length so to speak. You would text some whenever he was fronting but he woukd mostly just tell you about Marc and Steven. He didn’t seem to realize that you cared about him just as much, and wanted to get to know him too.

“I don’t know, it happened so fast. I was driving home, I saw headlights then just… pain.” You wince at the memory.

His gaze is much softer now. “Are you in pain now, cariño?”

The pet name has you grinning, despite how sore your face is. “Some, but not too bad. They have me on a lot of drugs.” His eyes travel your scratched and bruised form. He wonders how many more injuries he can’t see and clenches his jaw. “Where are you hurt?”

You hesitate for a moment, knowing he won’t like the answers. “Umm my back is sprained, broken ribs, whiplash, and a concussion… plus I have some cuts but it’s not as bad as it sounds.” Your attempts to soften the blow do nothing as he curses in Spanish (which is actually really sexy but now is not in the time.) His brows are furrowed in concentration and you can only assume Steven and Marc are griping in his head.

You brush your fingers against his in an attempt to calm him down. He looks down to see you weakly grabbing his rougher hand, effectively making his heart stutter. “Fuck, you’re cold,” he hisses, gently running his thumb over your chilled skin. He lets go of your hand (much to your disappointment) so he can remove his jacket and drape it over your body. You breathe in the familiar cologne that all the boys wear, snuggling into the leather.

“Thank you, Jakey.”

He shakes his head at the nickname as he takes a seat in the plush chair beside your bed. You turn your head to look at him playfully. “You know this isn’t how I imagined our first date.” He scoffs in response, "this isn’t our first date." You feel the sting of rejection and consider hiding under his jacket to cry a little but then he takes your hand in his (where it belongs, in your humble opinion.)

"Once you're better I’ll take you somewhere real nice, okay? But you have to heal up first.”

Your heart rises from where it had fallen in the pit of your stomach to flutter in your chest. “I’d like that,” you hum. Your gaze travels to your interlaced fingers, thinking about your words carefully. “To be honest, I didn’t even think you liked me.”

‘Nice going, locker,’ Marc seethes mentally. ‘You hurt her feelings.’

Jake ignores him as usual. “Oh princesa,” he sighs deeply, “I’ll admit at first I didn’t trust you. Nothing personal, I just didn’t want Marc or Steven to get hurt. But then I saw the way you treated them and I started falling for you too.”

This time his altars are quiet. Your voice is soft when you ask, “why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t know how. I’ve never been in a relationship. I’ve never cared about someone the way I care about you. And you seemed so happy with them.”

Your heart melts at his confession. You’re not naive. You know Jake has a dark side. He’s the manifestation of anger and resentment Marc felt as an abused child, but he’s also a protector. “We’re lucky to have you,” you softly confess.

He looks at you in awe for a moment before you notice his lip slightly quivering. He bows his head but you can still tell he’s holding back tears. “Oh baby,” you coo softly, wanting nothing more than to wrap him in your arms and hold him against your chest, or even wipe his wet cheeks, but your injured back and sides won’t allow it.

‘You deserve to be happy too, mate,’ Steven pipes up, only making his eyes burn more. ‘Yeah man, stop shutting her out. She cares about you,’ Marc adds.

“Are you okay?”

He nods slowly, his altar’s words echoing in his mind. “Sorry princesa, I should be the one taking care of you.”

“Don’t apologize, sweetheart. I’m glad you can be open with me.”

He looks at you with so much adoration it makes you shy. Then he gently kisses the back of your hand, “I should probably let Marc and Steven talk to you. They’re worried sick.”

“Okay, but only if you promise to visit me again, amor.”

He grins at the sound of you using his first language. “I promise, mi vida.”

____

Within a few days you’re released from the hospital. Your boyfriends insists on staying with you until you’re better.

“Alright muñeca, bed or couch?” Jake asks. “What about shower? I smell like the hospital.” You counter, leaning into his solid chest. His arm flexes around your waist as he leads (practically carries) you into the bathroom. “Do you need help, princesa?” He asks. You nod shyly.

You lean against the counter as he gingerly pulls your baggy shirt over your head, leaving your chest bare (you learnt quickly that broken ribs and bras don’t mix.) “There’s my beautiful girl,” he coos. You grin bashfully, looking away as he kneels in front of you to pull down your sweatpants and underwear, leaving a gentle kiss on your hip. “Jake!” You protest shyly with heated cheeks as he stands in front of you.

“Sorry mi vida, couldn’t resist. This is my first time undressing you, after all.” He smirks before ducking into the shower to turn it on. He strips himself before wrapping his large arms around you to help you in the shower. You let out a happy sigh as the warm water hits your sore body

“Stand still so I can wash you,” he instructs, reaching for your fruity body wash. “Wait,” you interrupt, making him freeze. “Can you use yours? I like smelling like you guys,” you sheepishly admit. It’s quiet for a moment, and you’re worried you weirded him out, when his lips brush against your ear,

“Marc wants you to know that that’s the cutest thing he’s ever heard.”

You grin at his words, trying to ignore the goosebumps left in their wake. “Tell Marc he’s cuter.”

“Alright, alright, enough flirting through me.”

You bring one of Jake's large hands to your mouth, pecking his knuckles. “Aw baby, don’t be jealous. You know I don’t play favorites with my boys.”

Jake smiles so big it makes his eyes crinkle. Suddenly belonging to someone doesn’t seem so bad, especially when they belong to you too. He wordlessly kisses your neck and reaches for their body wash. You giggle to yourself but it turns into a gasp when he puts the cold loofah on your back. “Did I hurt you?” He asks worridley, movements stilling. You shake your head softly, “no, I’m ok, just surprised me. I’ll tell you if it hurts.”

Once he’s washed your back and shoulders he helps you turn around to face him. He runs the loofah over your front, being extra careful of your broken ribs. He places intermittent kisses across your face and forehead to distract you from any discomfort, mumbling apologizes against your damp skin.

After you’re cleaned off he helps you out of the shower, running a fluffy towel across your body to dry you off. “Alright, let’s get you to bed, mi vida,” he coos as he walks you to your room and sits you on your bed. He grabs you some underwear then moves to your closet.

“What do you wanna wear?”

You immediately point to your favorite stolen item of clothing. “The black jumper.”

Jake takes it off its hanger, examining it closely. “Is this Steven’s?”

“Mhmm, I always take his clothes.” You confess as he lays it on the bed beside you.

“Well Steven isn’t the one who just helped you shower but by all means,” he grumbles to himself as he helps you pull up your panties. You playfully roll your eyes at his childness. “I already told you, baby, I don’t play favorites, it’s just that Stevie wears the comfiest shirts. And besides, I don’t have any of your clothes yet.”

“Oh, so now he’s Stevie?”

“I tried to call you Jakey and you said you didn’t like it.”

“I was lying! Obviously!”

You scoff at his unprecedented jealousy. “Just get in bed, Jakey. I want to watch Encanto.”

____

A few Disney movies later Jake leaves to get you dinner and feed Gus II and Gil. When he comes back he’s bearing gifts.

“This one’s from me,” he explains proudly, presenting an oversized Yankees shirt. “And this piece of trash is from Marc,” he groans comically, presenting a Chicago shirt. You giggle at his dramatics, making him smile proudly.

“Oh and the flowers were Steven’s ideas but I picked out the type,” he adds on, holding out a beautiful bouquet of your favorite flowers. If your body wasn’t in so much pain you’re sure your heart would be beating out of your chest cartoon style.

“I have the best boyfriends ever.”

#jake lockley x reader #jake lockley fluff #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #moon knight x reader #moon knight fluff #moon knight #marc spector #jake lockley #steven grant #moon boys

8K notes · View notes

lauras-collection · 2 years

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don’t blame me ✮ nathan drake smut

nathan drake x fem reader enemies to lovers

|| Masterlist ||

Summary:Ever since Nate broke your trust years ago the two of you have been rivals. This was supposed to be just another treasure hunt. But little did you know it’s gonna change everything.

Words: 8k

Warnings: SMUT 18+ [fingering, good girl, dom!nate, unprotected sex], mentions of someone wanting to kill reader, gunshots + gunshot wound, blood

A/N: Here it is, finally!!! As some of you know I wanted to post this the day uncharted was released. I didn’t quite manage that. But also this turned from an estimated 1-2k pwp into an 8k fic with a mediocre plot lmfao. I hope you enjoy!!! big thanks to @heyhihellowhatsup0 for helping with this fic and (lovingly) pressuring me into finishing it :D

Feedback is always appreciated ❤️

You’ve got to be kidding me. You think to yourself as your eyes land on none other than Nathan Drake. You’d hoped this would be a job without crossing his path. But you’re just not getting a break from him.

You can’t stand Nate.

That hadn’t always been the case, though. You used to be best friends and went treasure hunting together. You and Nate had been a team until he went behind your back. You never expected to be betrayed like that.

You live, and you learn.

“Look who it is,” Nate smirks, and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

“What are you doing here? You on vacation?” You ask, even though you know he’s here for the same reason as you: He wants the treasure.

“Unfortunately, no. But I’m sure you already knew that.”

“I thought you’d given up on treasure hunting after the last one slipped right through your fingers. Again.” You cross your arms in front of your chest.

“I’m not doing it for the money, sweetheart.” You hate it when he calls you sweetheart, and he knows it. You try not to show how much it annoys you as you take a sip from your drink. You wanted to unwind at a bar before leaving for the jungle tomorrow morning. But now Nate’s here, and it’s stressing you out.

You put the glass back down on the bar and rest your elbow against the wooden surface. “Oh, really? Does your bartending gig really pay that well?”

“Someone’s been keeping an eye on me, huh?” As a matter of fact, you have. You’re not proud of it, but Nate has been a thorn in your side for years, and as much as you’d like to forget about him, you need to keep tabs on him to stay ahead of him.

“Of course, I need to make sure you’re staying away from me.”

“You sure that’s the reason?” He raises one eyebrow, and you’ve already had enough of him. It’s not even been five minutes.

“I’m sure.”

He leans in so close you can smell him. You hate to admit it, but he smells divine.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve been keeping an eye on you as well.” A shiver runs down your spine, but you try to ignore it. Nate doesn’t deserve these reactions from you. But your body doesn’t seem to care.

“When are you leaving?” You ask, and finally, he puts more distance between you.

“This bar? Why? You wanna come to my hotel room with me?” He smirks, and you ball your fists in anger.

“You know what I mean.”

He tilts his head to the side. “Bummer. We could have a lot of fun, Y/N.” He knocks on the bar, turns around and then he’s gone. Without telling you when he’s leaving.

You mutter a few curses under your breath. It would be best to leave as soon as possible, but you have to wait for your boss to give you the final clue to find the treasure before you can head to the jungle.

***

So far, it’s going smoothly. Almost too smoothly.

You’ve got the notebook containing the clues to solve the final riddle to get to the treasure, and, so far, you haven’t had any hold-ups on your journey.

Well, except for running into Nate, of course.

You’re only surrounded by the sounds of the jungle as you make your way towards the lost ruins.

Ever since what happened with Nate, you’ve been on your own. Yes, you’ve got your boss’s support, and he helps you with a lot of things, but when it gets down to actually finding the treasures, that’s all you. Sometimes you’re accompanied by other treasure hunters that work for Moncada, but that’s been the exception these last few missions. You like being on your own. Minimises the chance of being betrayed by your partner.

After fighting your way through thick foliage, you think you hear an unusual noise. You’re on high alert now. It could be your boss’s people scouting the area. But he would’ve told you about that.

Could it be?

A grunt. “Dammit.” The sound of something crashing onto the ground.

You take a careful step forward, pushing the leaves to the side, and then you see Nathan fucking Drake standing up and dusting off his hands on his cargo pants.

You gotta be kidding me. Again. Out of all the possible routes through this huge jungle, you two ended up on the same one.

You consider sneaking past him to get ahead, but there’s no way he won’t see you.

“Getting old?” You call out to him, making him jump and turn to where you’re standing.

“Y/N. What a pleasure to see you.” His voice is dripping with sarcasm as he runs his hand through his hair.

“Ditto.” You roll your eyes. “Get out of my way, old man. I have a treasure to find.” You wave your hand like he’s an annoying fly you’re trying to get rid of. He kind of is.

“Oh, yeah? I thought you’d just gone out for a stroll.”

“Funny.”

“Also, I’m not old.”

“Mhm.” You don’t pay much attention to him as you start climbing up the overhang. With a practised eye and a firm grip, you manage to climb up without any problems.

You rest your hands on your hips and look down to where Nate is still standing.

“I wish I could see your face when you get to the treasure, and it’s already gone because I took it.” You smile smugly. You’d like to think you’re the better treasure hunter, but truth be told, both of you are great at what you do and have probably found an equal amount of treasures. You’re not going to admit that to him, though. Plus, there’s the fact that every time he does find a treasure, he ends up losing it one way or another.

“What makes you so sure you’re going to get there before me? Just because you’re ahead of me now? There are still riddles to be solved, sweetheart. Don’t get too excited just yet.”

You suppress a groan at the nickname and school your features. “Well, I’ve got an advantage on you though.”

“And what’s that?” He raises one of his brows.

You reach behind you and pull the notebook from your back pocket. “This.” You watch as Nate’s jaw drops, but you don’t allow yourself to bask in it too long. You need to get a move on.

Revealing that you have the notebook was probably not a good idea, but you couldn’t help it. Nate knows how to push your buttons. And you allow it every time.

“Y/N! Wait!” He calls after you, and you can hear him start to climb again.

Of course, you’re not waiting for him. You start jogging to get some distance between you and him, but the ground is not made for that, and you have to be careful not to stumble and fall.

Suddenly, you hear shots being fired, and it causes you to freeze. You hear Nate’s loud footsteps behind you and hold up a hand to make him stop. Thankfully, he does.

“What’s going on?” He whispers as he comes to a halt behind you.

“Didn’t you hear the shots?” You ask, carefully walking forwards.

“I did. But I thought that’s just your people doing what they do best.”

“And what would that be?”

“Being useless?” He says it as if it’s obvious. You don’t think they’re useless, though. They’ve helped you keep many people off your back. Sometimes you think of them as your bodyguards.

You don’t regard him with an answer; just continue to walk forward until you can see where the shots are coming from. When you can finally see a group of people, you don’t recognise any of them.

“I’ve never seen these people before.” You murmur. You don’t want to draw attention to yourself. It’s dangerous.

A treasure worth millions of dollars is somewhere around here, and people don’t shy away from killing to get to it. You have to be careful.

“It’s probably best if we stick together.” Nate muses, and you turn to him with a raised eyebrow. This might be the first time he suggests something like that. Seems like he really needs that notebook.

“I’m just saying. Neither of us know who these people are. And there’s safety in numbers, right?”

He does have a point. Even though it would be just the two of you against a group. And you don’t know how many more people might be around. You don’t see a downside of going with Nathan for a bit. Besides him being annoying, of course. But you’ll get over that.

“Fine.” You give in. “But keep the talking to a minimum.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

***

Of course, Nate doesn’t keep the talking to a minimum. He comments on every little thing. But you ignore it as best as you can.

You’re close to the spot where you suspect the treasure to be. Only a little bit further.

“So I was thinking…” Nate says as he follows you down the stairs of one of the ruins.

“Oh no. Does your head hurt now?” You ask with mock concern.

“Funny.” You can practically hear him roll his eyes. “When we find the treasure, I’ll let you have 25%,” This makes you stop in your tracks, causing him to run into you. You turn around swiftly.

“You’re letting me have 25%? You’ve got to be kidding me. You wouldn’t even be here without me. You’re lucky if I’ll let you have even 5% of it.” You place your hands on your hips and glare at him.

He looks at you for a few seconds, then you see the corner of his mouth quirk up. And then he’s full out laughing.

“Oh, sweetheart, it’s so much fun to rile you up.”

“I hate you.” With that, you turn around and continue walking.

“Thanks for reminding me, I almost forgot.” Nate’s voice is dripping with sarcasm. “Feeling’s mutual by the way.”

You turn around to him again. “You know, I don’t think this is working out. We should go our separate ways.”

Nate laughs, “Nice try. We’re so close to finding the treasure, I’m not leaving your side.”

“Because you wouldn’t find it without me.”

“You’ve got the notebook. Of course, I wouldn’t be able to find it without you.”

***

You continue to put up with Nate until you reach the chamber the treasure is in. You get that familiar giddy feeling you always get when you’re about to reach a treasure.

With Nate’s help, you push the huge stone that’s covering the opening away. You’re the first inside the room. The ceilings are high, but the only light source is coming from your flashlights. You’re surprised how intact this building still is.

You look around the room, but nothing really stands out until your flashlight reveals a stone chest in the corner of the room.

“It must be in there.” You mutter, even though you expected there to be more gold than just a chest of it.

Nate follows you there, you open the chest and…

Nothing.

Except for a note and a curious-looking dagger.

It’s no use, the treasure was definitely not here, and you had to basically start over. You can’t make sense of the note and the dagger just yet, so you and Nate decide to go back into town and try to figure this out.

You aren’t sure why you’re still entertaining him. You should have told him to fuck off ages ago. But even though he’s annoying, it’s nice to have some company for a change.

Once back in town you inform your boss of the new development. He’s not happy but knows there’s nothing you can do about it.

A couple hours later, someone knocks on your door, and when you open it, Nate’s standing there, a bottle of wine in his hand.

“Ready to figure this out?”

You’re surprised to see him, but then again not. You have to keep in mind that he was only after the treasure; he doesn’t want to spend time with you. And you don’t want to spend time with him.

You could just tell him to leave, but what harm could a glass of wine do?

Famous last words.

Two hours and two bottles of wine later, you at least know where to go next. But you’re also a little drunk.

“Have I ever told you how much I admire you?” Nate says, his cheek resting in his palm as he looks at you. His words are just a little slurred, and the way he smiles at you is almost adorable.

“Uh, no, I don’t recall you ever saying something positive about me.” You tilt your head to the side, unsure of where this is going.

“That can’t be true.” He rests his other hand on your knee. The heat of his skin takes you aback, goosebumps rising on your arms at the contact. “We had some good times together in the past, gorgeous.”

The pet name tenfolds the reaction you just had, and you tighten your fists, afraid he’d see your hands shaking.

“Don’t call me that.” You bite at him. He used to call you gorgeous back when you were still friends. It would make your cheeks heat up every time, and you’d tell him it’s annoying, but secretly you loved it. You loved the idea of him thinking you’re gorgeous.

But not anymore. Now it just brings back bad memories. Memories of his betrayal. How can you ever believe he meant anything he said when he went behind your back in the worst way.

“Why not?” He raises one eyebrow. His hand is still on your knee, and he gives it a little squeeze.

“It’s annoying.” You should make him take his hand off your leg, but you can’t bring yourself to it. It’s been way too long since you’ve had some human contact, and your body is soaking up his warmth like it needs it to live.

Nate tilts his head. “You sure about that?” Nate’s hand slowly travels higher on your leg, and the urge to squeeze your thighs together is worrying.

You look at him and catch yourself wondering what his lips would feel like against yours. If his hair is as soft as it looks. His cheeks are tinted red, from the alcohol, you assume. His eyes twinkle in the light of your hotel room. It’s annoying how handsome he is. And it’s even more annoying how much power he still has over your body.

Without realising, you’ve leaned in closer to him.

“Nate.” You want to tell him that this is a bad idea. That you and him together is wrong on so many levels. You want to tell yourself that, too. But these past couple of hours have almost felt like it had back in the day, with you and Nate working as a team. You felt like you were about to get whiplash from all these conflicting emotions.

“Y/N.” Nate cups your face with one hand, his thumb caressing your cheekbone. “Just let it happen, gorgeous.”

That’s all it takes. You feel your resolve crumble as he leans in. The tip of his nose brushes against yours before he captures your lips.

You shift even closer to him and slide one hand into his soft hair as you reciprocate his kiss. His lips are surprisingly soft as he kisses your top lip, then your bottom lip, before moving his hand to the back of your neck. You open your lips ever so slightly and flick your tongue over his bottom lip.

You can feel him smile, and then his tongue is meeting yours, and you tighten your grip on his hair. You don’t remember ever being kissed like this.

Your surroundings seem to blur as you push all your thoughts to the back of your head and allow yourself to just feel.

You don’t know how much time passes with you and Nate kissing, but when your name falls from his lips like a prayer, it’s like someone burst a bubble in your head.

You need to get some distance from him, so you pull away. For a moment, Nate follows your movement, his lips chasing yours, but you move your head to the side.

This is still Nate, the Nate you can’t trust. A couple of hours of teamwork don’t change that. If you don’t stop this now, you don’t know how far you’ll let things go. Probably too far.

“I think you should leave.” You whisper, unable to look into his eyes.

Nate pauses for a moment, then he nods and clears his throat, “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Okay.”

As soon as you hear the door click shut, you let yourself fall back onto the couch and groan. How could you have let this happen? Yes, you’re a little tipsy, but that’s no excuse for just letting him kiss you!

But that kiss.

You don’t think you’ve ever had a better kiss in your life. The realisation makes you groan again. Nate doesn’t have the right to be such a good kisser!

Still grumpy, you get ready for bed. You’ll deal with your feelings in the morning.

***

You wake up before your alarm, and suddenly you have an uneasy feeling. As you look at the coffee table, you see two empty wine bottles along with glasses and lots of scrap notebook paper. It’s a mess.

Just like your head because you’re still thinking about Nate’s lips on yours. (That’s nothing against last night’s dreams, though)

Still slightly frazzled, you get ready as quickly as you can. You need to get to the treasure quickly before someone else can.

When you’re almost ready to go, you decide to clean up the room a little bit. You don’t want housekeeping to see the remnants of last night.

You throw away all the notes that led to nothing last night, and as you look at the clear coffee table in front of you, it suddenly dawns on you why you had such an uneasy feeling all morning.

The dagger is gone.

You turn over every pillow on the sofa and even look underneath it. Nothing.

There’s only one explanation. Nate took it.

You let him seduce you, and he stole from you. Taking a deep breath, you keep from screaming in frustration.

You knew you shouldn’t have worked with him. It seems to always end with him betraying you.

But hey, you were supposed to meet this morning. Maybe he didn’t actually go behind your back and will be waiting for you in the lobby?

Of course, he isn’t waiting for you in the lobby. As a matter of fact, you find out he has already checked out.

You give the receptionist a strained smile before heading out yourself. Maybe you can still catch up with him. At least you know where to look for him.

While you’re making your way through the jungle, you’re mad at yourself for letting him trick you so easily. You know what he’s like.

This is exactly what happened the last time you worked together. You woke up one morning, and he was gone with the diary that held all the information. Luckily the guy you two had been working with at the time had caught him before he was gone too far. That way, you were still able to obtain the treasure.

But it made you realise the kind of person Nate was. He doesn’t care about anyone but himself. You thought you were best friends, but he betrayed you without blinking an eye. And now he’s done the same thing because you let your hormones control you for one evening.

Pathetic.

Suddenly, the sound of gunshots rings through the quiet jungle, and you can’t help but be worried. What if something happened to Nate?

You shouldn’t care, that’s what!

The gunshots didn’t seem to be too far from where you were, so you pick up your pace, trying to find whoever it is. Maybe not the best idea, but you’re curious.

As you break through the foliage, you notice Nate on the ground behind a rock, clutching his arm, blood seeping through his shirt. He’s been hit.

Suits him right, a small voice in your head says. You don’t want him to be seriously injured, but he deserves a little payback.

You crouch down next to him, making sure you’re not seen by the people still scouting the area.

“Y/N?” Nate seems surprised to see you.

“Shut up. I’m not in the mood to talk to you.” You hiss as you peek over the rock to see what’s going on. Just like last time, you don’t recognise most of the people, but one face is very familiar to you.

“Rafe? What is he doing here?” Rafe’s one of your closest associates. If you do work with someone on a treasure hunt, it’s with him. So why is he here but not working with you?

“He might be looking for the treasure, sweetheart.” Nate presses out as he tries to sit up.

“Didn’t I tell you to shut up?” You don’t even look at him, your eyes still trained on Rafe as you try to make out what he’s saying.

“Moncada wants the treasure ASAP.” Rafe bellows, and the name of your boss makes you freeze. If he’s working for your boss, why don’t you know about it? Did Moncada send him as support? “Y/N should be around here somewhere.” You’re about to stand up, but Nate wraps his hand around your forearm and slowly shakes his head. You look at him questioningly, but then Rafe continues, “If you find her, shoot her.”

What?

You suck in a breath. Why would Rafe want that? You’ve worked quite well as a team in the past. Why does he want you dead all of a sudden?

“Moncada promised us a good bonus if we kill her, so keep your eyes open!” Rafe claps his hands, and his men start moving, but you’re frozen in place. Nate squeezing your arm pulls you out of your stupor.

“We need to find a hiding spot,” Nate urges while trying to get up. “I managed to trick them into thinking I ran into a different direction but if we stay here they’ll find us.”

For a moment, you just stare at him. Moncada wants you dead. Your boss and, in some way, your father figure wants you to die. A billion different explanations as to why he would want that flit through your brain but none of them make sense to you.

“Y/N!” Nate hisses, and even though you maybe shouldn’t, you follow him without thinking twice about it.

You end up in a small cave hidden away by vines and other foliage. Nate lets himself fall against one of the rocks, still clutching his arm. And finally, you can get enough of a grip to ask him what happened.

“Rafe and his men suddenly showed up. At first I thought he was on his own but as you might have noticed he’s working for Moncada.”

“Why does he want me dead?” You furrow your eyebrows and see Nate shrug his shoulders with a wince.

You’re pacing back and forth in front of him, too anxious to stand still. The moment one of Rafe’s men sees you, you’re dead. It doesn’t make sense. Rafe has been one of the men protecting you on your past adventures. How is he okay with just killing you all of a sudden? You thought you could trust him. Sounds familiar.

“I don’t wanna interrupt your crisis but a little help would be nice.” You stop your pacing and turn to look at Nate.

Shirtless.

“Why is your shirt off?” It’s out of your mouth before you can stop yourself, your eyes glued to his chest. You have to admit, he’s got some muscles. Nice muscles. You watch them move under his tan skin, and you wouldn’t be surprised if you start salivating in the next three seconds.

But it doesn’t come to that because Nate starts talking, and your eyes snap up to look at his face again. “Originally to get better access to the wound, but this is a nice side effect.” He winks, causing your face to heat up. You feel like you got caught doing something you shouldn’t be doing.

Maybe because ogling Nate is a bad idea.

“Shut up.”

Nate just smirks. “Will you help me now or are you going to let me bleed out?”

“I should, with how you stole from me.” You say but walk towards him anyway. He won’t bleed out if you don’t help him, he’s exaggerating, and both of you know that. Opening your backpack, you pull out your first aid kit. It’s come in handy many times.

Both of you are quite as you prepare to take care of the wound.

“I’m sorry.” Nate finally says with a sigh. “I shouldn’t have stolen the dagger from you.”

“Somehow I don’t really buy you being sorry.” You mumble before cleaning the wound with some water. Then you apply some gel, being rougher than you need to be.

“Ouch! Be careful!” Nate complains, but you have no intention of being soft with him. “I really am sorry!” Nate insists, then he lets out a groan of pain, and maybe you are just a little bit softer with him.

You reach for a bandage, and Nate visibly tenses when you get closer to him.

“I’ll be gentle.” You reassure him. “If you explain.”

“Why I did it?” He raises one eyebrow.

“That much is obvious. Why you’re sorry all of a sudden. You didn’t bat an eye at stealing from me in the past.”

“I’ve realised some stuff.” Nate lets out a breath while you gently wrap the bandage over his arm. You can’t help but notice how well defined his biceps are. Focus!

“And what did you realise?”

Nate takes his time before he answers. You’re tying up the bandage when he finally speaks up.

“That being angry with you all my life won’t do me any favours.” He clears his throat. “Yeah you broke my trust when you just left me for dead on our last mission together but–”

“I didn’t!” You can’t believe what he’s saying. “You were about to take off alone with the diary. You stole from me just like you did last night! You’re a thief Nate. And I thought you would at least have some respect for your friends, or even just your best friend at the time.” You point at yourself. “But you didn’t. You stole from me like I was some random person you couldn’t give two shits about.”

Nate looks to the side with a sneer. “So fucking stupid.”

“Excuse me? Did you just call me stupid?”

“And what if I did? What are you going to do about it?”

“I’m so sick of your fucking games, Nate. When this is over I don’t ever wanna see you again.”

“And I’m sick of your higher than thou attitude! As if you’re better than me! You’re just some lonely girl finding treasures to get the praise she so desperately needs. I bet you run back to Moncada every time you find a treasure, wagging your tail, presenting it to him like a good little puppy!”

“Shut up! You have no idea what you’re talking about!”

“You shut up, or I’ll make you shut up.” His voice is menacing, but you’re not scared. The air between you both is charged, and as much as you know you should take a step back, you don’t. You’re standing so close that the fabric of your shirt is brushing against his skin, and you can feel his body heat radiating off of him.

“I’d like to see you try.”

Nate doesn’t answer, not verbally. But in the next moment, one of his hands is on the back of your neck and his lips on yours. You let out a surprised whimper. You weren’t expecting him to kiss you. Not again. And not when he had nothing to take from you.

You don’t think as you fist your hands in his hair and pull him closer. You don’t think as you open your mouth and deepen the kiss. And you definitely don’t think as you let him lead you backwards until your back makes contact with the wall.

You wrap one of your legs around his hip, his hand immediately there to steady you. You’re still feverishly kissing as you feel his hips rut into yours, causing you to moan.

“You’re so fucking aggravating.” You manage to say between kisses, and you think you hear Nate growl. You can’t ignore the tingling in your lower belly any longer, even though you’re almost ashamed that, of all people, Nate is the one to draw this kind of reaction from you. Almost.

“Try being in your company for a day, you’ll know who’s the aggravation one then.”

“I hate you.”

“You sure about that? Doesn’t seem like you hate me right now. The way you’re rubbing yourself on me.”

Now you’re the one growling.

“I bet if I’d put my hand in your panties you’d be dripping for me.”

You pull a face at his words. It’s not that he’s wrong, but it’s annoying that he knows what he’s doing to you.

You decide to challenge him, though.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” You say, leaning your head back against the stone wall so you can look at him. His eyes are hooded, his lips slightly swollen from your kisses.

“Wanna bet?” He raises one eyebrow, and you mirror his expression. You know you shouldn’t underestimate Nate, but you wanna know how far you can push him. “Let’s see then.” He says before starting to unbutton your pants.

He’s really doing it.

Your heart feels like it’s about to jump out of your throat it’s beating that fast. Your breathing quickens in anticipation.

And then he’s running his fingers through your folds.

“You’re so fucking wet for me Y/N. Try to deny it all you want, you’re dying to have me cock inside you.”

You moan at the sensation of being touched by him, but you don’t want to have him get the upper hand. “So are you going to do anything about it, or are you one of those guys who’re all talk and can’t even find the–“You can’t even finish the sentence before his thumb is on your clit, drawing tight circles.

“What was that about being one of those guys?”

You wanna curse at him, but now he’s pushed two fingers into your cunt, and you’re unable to form proper words.

“What was that?” He’s smirking. He knows your putty in his hands now, the way you’re holding on to him. The way you’re pushing your hips into his hand, craving more.

You start to repeat what you were going to say, but then his fingertips brush against a particularly sensitive spot inside you, and all you can do is moan.

“That’s what I thought. He chuckles softly. “Had I known this is how I get you to shut up, I would’ve done it a long time ago.”

You pull on his hair with a moan, but he just laughs. “Just like that, gorgeous. Let me hear you.” He tightens his grip on your thigh and picks up his pace. You’re a moaning mess, but at this point, you don’t care.

You don’t care that you’re supposed to hate him.

You don’t care that he’s the last person you should be attracted to.

You don’t care that he seems to be enjoying the way you’re unable to talk back.

Because he’s making you feel so fucking good.

“I know you want my cock, baby, but you’re not getting it.” You pull on his hair again in protest. “Not until we find the treasure.”

“Fuck you.” You manage to say, but Nate just chuckles. You don’t know what could possibly be funny about this.

He hums as he leans in to place soft kisses on your neck. “This isn’t easy for me.” He whispers in your ear, making shivers run down your spine. Your pussy tightens around his fingers, and you’re certain you can feel him smile. “I’m so fucking hard you have no idea. It’s taken a lot of control to not just bend you over and fuck you stupid. Until you’re so fucked out you can barely walk. But we’ve got a treasure to find, gorgeous.”

And then he leans back and just looks into your eyes as he keeps fingering you, his thumb playing with your clit. You’re unable to look away as his pace slows down and something seems to shift in the air. You’re drowning in his eyes. You’ve always loved his eyes. Cherished every moment you got to see them up close. But you’ve never been this close.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Y/N.” Nate almost pants. He nudges the tip of his nose against yours before he plants a kiss on your lips. Just one simple peck. One might even say an innocent kiss if it wasn’t for his fingers that were still moving in and out of your dripping cunt. “Bet you’re even prettier when you cum. You gonna show me?” He asks with another kiss and picks up his pace. Just a little, but it’s exactly what you need.

“Yes, fuck, right there.”

“You gonna be a good girl and cum for me?” His words are barely above a whisper, but that’s all it takes to push you over the edge.

Your mouth falls open as your orgasm washes over you, and if possible, you pull yourself even closer to Nate.

“That’s it.” He hums, his eyes moving over your face. “So fucking gorgeous.”

Nate keeps praising you as you come down from your high, his forehead resting against yours. When your breathing is almost back to normal, he starts neatly putting your panties back in place.

“You’re wrong.” He murmurs, his nose brushing against yours as he pulls up your pants. Normally, you’d feel belittled if a guy was doing this. Or at least you’d feel used as if he’d want to get you dressed as quickly as possible so you could leave. But with Nate… It feels like an intimate moment, and you have no clue why.

“What are you talking about?” Your hands are still in his hair; you can’t seem to let go of him. You should push him away, tell him you can dress yourself, thank you very much. But you don’t.

“I would’ve never stolen from you.” He zips and buttons your pants before looking at you. You don’t know how he can just pick the conversation back up after what just happened. But oh well, if he wants to keep arguing, so be it.

You tilt your head to the side. He has to realise how ridiculous that sounds just hours after he did, in fact, steal from you.

“Back then.” He clarifies. “I trusted you with my life.” He looks at you intently, his hands now on your hips. “I cared so much about you.” He pauses and closes his eyes for a few seconds. “I still do. Despite everything that happened between us, I care so fucking much about you. Rafe knew that, and he used it against me. He kept telling me how he’s gonna make sure you’ll be okay. You’ll be taken care of. ‘Don’t worry, Nate. I’m gonna make sure you and your girl get a decent chunk of the money.’ He said. But Rafe had spent months planting doubts in your head. I didn’t realise it back then, but in the final months of us working together, you started becoming more and more distant. You would go to him with new clues first.

“At first I didn’t think anything of it. I thought you did it because he’s the more experienced treasure hunter. But then you started keeping things from me. I felt like you were going behind my back, that you didn’t want to work with me anymore. And then one day Rafe sent me to scout the area and when I came back both of you were gone.”

It’s hard to wrap your head around everything Nate is telling you. And maybe you should be a little more careful because you can’t be a hundred per cent sure that Nate is telling the truth. But your gut is telling you that he is. At some point during the past 24 hours, you realised that Nate isn’t the egoistic asshole that you thought he was.

Yeah, okay, he stole the dagger from you, but wouldn’t you have done the same in his position? Probably.

You watch him for a moment. He’s got no reason to lie to you. He’s the one with the dagger. He could’ve just run off with it. He doesn’t need your help. But yet he asked for it. And even more importantly, he saved your life earlier. If it wasn’t for him, you would’ve run straight to Rafe when you saw him. And you’d be dead.

If he had told you all of this last night, you wouldn’t have believed him. But now? You believe him.

It makes sense. Now that you’ve seen Rafe’s true self, you can see him manipulating you. Doing everything to get you and Nate to split up. Nate hadn’t been the biggest fan of Rafe. Or even Moncada. He didn’t like the idea of just finding the treasure for someone else. But Rafe told you time and time again that Moncada would reimburse you more than enough. And ever since you started working for him, he kept his word. But back then, you and Nate had argued more than once if working for him and with Rafe was a good idea. But Nate always agreed because you trusted Rafe. And Rafe got you to trust him more than your best friend. The realisation feels like a punch in the gut.

“So you’re saying that you didn’t try to steal from us? That Rafe made that up?” You feel stupid because it all makes sense. Why didn’t you realise it sooner? Why did you let yourself be manipulated by Rafe?

“He played us.” Nate nods. “For whatever reason he wanted to get rid of me and turn us against each other.”

“So all these years… I hated you for no reason?” You feel guilty as you say this. Thinking back to all the things you said to him. All the length you went to beat him, to be the better treasure hunter when you could’ve worked as a team this whole time.

“Hey, don’t feel bad. I hated you, too.” Nate smiles at you, but you can see that he, too, feels the guilt.

“Can I…” You start, and his eyes focus on yours. “Can I give you a hug or something?” You ask, not sure how to deal with all of this. Asking for a hug is probably the weirdest thing, considering his fingers had been inside you not too long ago, and your hands were still resting at the nape of his neck.

Nate lets out a laugh but wraps his arms around your waist. “You’re so weird.”

You tug on a strand of his hair which makes him laugh even more, but then he’s holding you tightly, and you can feel his warm skin everywhere.

“I’m sorry.” You say after a while. “I shouldn’t have allowed Rafe to turn me against you. I don’t even know how he managed to do that. You’re the person I trusted the most.”

“Don’t worry about it Y/N. He’s a conniving, manipulative son of a bitch. And you were impressionable. We both were.” He shrugs his shoulders. “He wanted me gone. And he knew how much I cared about you and used that against me. There’s nothing we can do about it now.”

“Actually, there is.”

***

Your plan is to simply find the treasure and be gone before Rafe gets there. Now that you’re working with Nate again, you know you can do it. There was a reason Rafe wanted to split the two of you apart. You were too good together.

And now that the air between you has sort of been cleared, Nate isn’t even that annoying anymore. Sure, he’s still a little shit. But instead of it slowly driving you up the wall, you almost find it charming.

“So now that we’re on good terms again, does that mean we’re going to split the treasure accordingly? 75% for me and 25% for you?” Nate asks as he follows you along one of the tunnels that will hopefully lead you to the treasure. You know he’s got a smirk on his face without having to turn around.

As a reply, you just flip him off.

Finally, you reach a heavy stone door that, according to all the clues you have, should be the only thing between you and the treasure right now.

You turn around to Nate and motion for him to step forward. “Go ahead,” The dagger needs to be inserted into the keyhole in the centre of the door.

“I’m honestly surprised you haven’t attempted to steal it back from me.” Nate muses as he steps closer to the door while rummaging through his backpack.

You can’t help but smirk.

“Funny you say that.” With that, you pull the dagger from your own backpack and wave it in front of his face. You took it from him back in the cave while tending to his wound.

“Are you serious?” He gapes at you, making you laugh.

“Just because we had a little heart to heart doesn’t mean I completely trust you again.” You shrug your shoulders before walking to the door and inserting the key.

“That’s fair,” Nate mumbles while you turn the key. It isn’t easy, but you manage to do it, and with a loud clacking noise, the ancient mechanism starts working. Dust and dirt fall to the ground as the door slowly moves out of the way.

You take a tentative step forward. This could very well be just another trap. But you’ve done this for long enough to know that it’s not. This is the real deal. You open the chest closest to you, and there it is. The treasure. And there’s not just one chest. There’s dozens of them.

You turn around to Nate with the biggest smile. “We did it!”

Nate mirrors your smile. “I guess we did.”

And there’s still no sight of Rafe and his men. You’re over the moon. All the tension leaves your body, and all you can feel is pure joy.

Giddy, you throw your arms around Nate’s neck. He stumbles back a bit, not expecting your outburst, but then he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you closer.

You don’t remember the last time you got to celebrate finding a treasure with someone else. And because this feels like a special sort of victory, you’re even more excited. And before you know what you’re doing, you’re pulling Nate close to plant a kiss on his lips. You can feel him smile against you, his hands moving to cup your ass and all the excitement you’re feeling suddenly turns into lust. The kiss turns heated as you open your lips.

“I think there’s something you wanted to give me when we find the treasure.” You raise an eyebrow at him before moving one of your hands to where his cock is already straining against his pants.

“If you’re not careful I’ll bend you over right here and now.” He grumbles, his eyes dark.

“I dare you.” You smile at him wickedly. “But make it quick, we don’t have much time before Rafe shows up.”

You don’t have to tell him twice. With one quick movement, he whirls you around and bends you over one of the large treasure chests. Wetness pools between your legs. You never thought you’d be fucking on a treasure, but it’s exciting as fuck.

Nate’s impatient, trying to pull down your pants without even opening them. It’s not working, so you quickly fumble with the button. Before you can get to the zipper, it opens itself as Nate finally pulls down your pants.

“Been thinking about this all fucking day.” He says as he struggles with his own pants. “Look at you. So fucking gorgeous bent over for me.” You look back at him just as he pulls out his cock, and you can’t help but moan. He’s hard, precum already dripping from the tip.

“Hold on tight, baby.” He says and steps closer to you. You try and find something to hold on to, finally reaching for the edge of the treasure chest, digging your fingers into the sturdy material. You push your ass in the air, impatiently waiting for the moment he’ll finally fill you up.

Nate places one of his hands on your hip, and you’re tingling with anticipation. “You wore these just for me? You expected to get laid in the jungle?” He asks as he slips one of his fingers under the edge of your underwear. It’s one of the prettier pairs you own, not the functional ones you’d usually wear on a trip like this. But you wanted to feel sexy and confident, who can blame you?

“I’m wearing these for me,” you say with a certain edge to your voice. You want him to stop talking.

“Sure you are, sweetheart.” Then you feel your panties digging into your skin for a second before a cracking sound fills the air, and the pressure is gone.

“Better.” You hear Nate murmur, and your mouth falls open in shock.

“Did you just rip my underwear?”

“Oops.”

“You son of a–“

You don’t get to finish your sentence because the next thing you know, he gently kicks the inside of your foot, causing you to spread your legs further before pushing into you, stretching you out, and you can’t do anything but tilt your hips to give him better access.

“Looks like someone loses the ability to speak once their cunt is filled.” Nate leans over you, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. You reach back with one of your hands, grabbing a fistful of his hair like you’ve down before, not tugging on it, but just holding onto him, keeping him close.

“You feel so fucking good, gorgeous.” He starts thrusting, and now you are tugging on his hair. “I love it when you pull my hair.” He says, then places a kiss right under your ear. One of his hands is holding onto your hip tightly, the other resting on the treasure chest next to you.

His thrusts are slow and deliberate, and as much as you love this, you don’t have all day.

“Faster, Nate. Give it to me.”

Nate grunts at your words, but then he picks up the pace, fucking into you like there’s no tomorrow, and somehow he manages to brush against your g-spot every time. Your whole body is wound uptight, your hips slamming against the treasure chest with every forceful thrust, and you know you’re gonna have bruises tomorrow, but you don’t give a fuck.

“I’m so fucking close.” Nate presses out, his thrusts growing more erratic.

“Cum for me.” You tug on his hair. “Fill me up, Nate.”

“Fuck!” He rights himself, both his hands now on your hips, and if possible, he fucks even deeper into you, and suddenly, without warning, you’re coming undone.

Your walls tighten around him as a guttural moan leaves your lips, and then you feel him cum inside you.

He keeps thrusting lethargically until he’s completely spent, then he slowly pulls out.

You feel your combined juices dripping out of you, and even though your mind is still clouded from that intense orgasm, you reach between your legs to not ruin your pants. He’s already destroyed your panties, and as hot as that was, you still have to make your way back to the city.

“Can you hand me a tissue or something?” You ask, your breathing still heavy.

“Ah, shit, wait. Take this for now.” He hands you something, and you can’t fight the urge to roll your eyes.

“Are these my panties?”

You hear Nate chuckle before his hand covers yours, his other arm wrapping around your waist to pull you into a standing position, holding you against his chest.

“I’m sorry I ripped them.”

“Are you really?” You lean to the side and look back at him with a raised brow, the smirk on his face is all you need to know. “That’s what I thought.”

He helps you clean up before calling Sully to organise the relocation of the treasure.

When you’re finally back in the city, knowing you beat Rafe to the treasure, you feel like you’re on top of the world.

You know he still wants you dead, that you have to be careful. But you’ve got Nate and Sully (who was sceptical at first but agreed to give you a chance) protecting you. Perhaps you should take a break from treasure hunting for a while. It would be the smart thing to do, get off of Rafe and Moncada’s radar. But you know when the next opportunity to find a treasure comes along, you won’t hesitate to go after it.

You don’t know where you and Nate are headed, what the things that happened between you mean. But you know you’ll figure it out.

A/N: There it is!!! i hope you liked it! I’d love to read your reactions <3

besties tag: @spidermanlondon ☆ @duskholland ☆ @heyhihellowhatsup0 ☆ @annathesillyfriend ☆ @hazofmyheart ☆ @emilykjh ☆ @sinisterspidey ☆ @lovebittenbyevans ☆ @miraclesoflove ☆ @seasidetom ☆ @selfcarecap ☆ @missevrythingg ☆ @userholland ☆ @softholand ☆ @hotforharrison ☆ @osterfield-holland-andcompany ☆ @thecodyexpress ☆ @worldoftom

Don’t blame me tag: @enjoy-the-destruction // @namoreno // @t-hollanderr // @julster

#nathan drake x reader #nathan drake smut #nathan drake angst #nathan drake fluff #nathan drake fic #nathan drake fanfic #nate drake #uncharted #uncharted movie #tom holland

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draeyad · 2 years

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‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ 𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐬 ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

𝐜 𝐫 𝐞 𝐚 𝐭 𝐞 𝐝 𝐛 𝐲 𝐃 𝐑 𝐀 𝐄 𝐘 𝐀 𝐃

is your game lacking some drama && cuteness? do you struggle coming up with your own storylines? don’t worry, i’ve got you. this challenge is perfect for those of you that take pleasure in the good, the bad and the downright ugly.

be prepared, you’re in for it. the drama doesn’t stop in this one.

heavily inspired by melanie martinez songs coupled with some of my favorite colors, this is kind of like a berry challenge. but like melanie, we are wielding dual colors. each gen has two colors that will bleed into the next. you can utilize dual colors in multitudes of ways. you can create berry sims or normal sims, color coordinate their clothes and makeup, change up their hair colors. doesn’t matter as long as you use the two colors given to signal each generation.

tw; this challenge may cover topics that some are sensitive to. specifically cheating, death, gangs, neglected childhood, kidnapping, implied body dysmorphia.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

that said, this challenge has two paths. one path is pack friendly and one path is base game compatible. if you run into any issues, pls dm me here and i will revise. you can switch between paths depending on what suits your game.

you can find the base game friendly path of this challenge here.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ 𝐫 𝐮 𝐥 𝐞 𝐬 ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

— ♡ You must complete each goal listed for each generation in order to move on to the next. — ♡ Some cheats are allowed to progress the story. I��ll clarify in each generation. — ♡ no money cheats tho. that’s kinda not fun. you can use freerealestate for your first house in gen 1. but that’s it unless otherwise stated — ♡ life span can be kept on normal OR long. normal is optimal. short is not recommended unless you want to have a nervous breakdown. — ♡ you can take sims into cas.fulleditmode since a lot of sims need specific traits that interact with your sim. — ♡ if you play this challenge, please tag me in #crybabywhims on here or dm me links to any youtube videos. my discord also has a channel to share screenshots from this challenge.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ 𝐃 𝐎 𝐋 𝐋 𝐇 𝐎 𝐔 𝐒 𝐄 ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙ 𝐠 𝐞 𝐧 𝐞 𝐫 𝐚 𝐭 𝐢 𝐨 𝐧 𝟏

aspiration: successful lineage career: none at first, politician as adult (either branch) traits: perfectionist, paranoid, family oriented

colors: yellow && white

— everyone thinks that we’re perfect, please don’t let them look through the curtains —

you grew up a perfect white picket fence life in a perfect home. perfect parents, perfect siblings, perfect grades. nothing was ever out of place. or was it? your memory is a little jaded, it seems. maybe, you got it all wrong. you were taught father builds the home and mother maintains it. but how was dad making money again? jeeze, you can’t remember. did you choose to forget? and like the perfect sim you are, you fell in love in high school with the perfect person. or, you thought they were perfect until you saw them kissing your sibling. and only a few years later, they got married. you weren’t even invited to the wedding. no, this wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

you were perfect. where did it go wrong?

you promised you’d keep to your mother’s beliefs. you married young (18 to be exact) and took care of your spouse, of your home. but your ex was always hanging around your siblings house. and you guys may have accidentally hooked up. and now you guys are pregnant, each having a different spouse.

— is it weird to coparent with your siblings spouse? should you keep seeing your ex? what about your partner? will they catch you cheating? will you tell them the truth or continue living a lie?

— ♡ have a high school sweat heart you start on bad terms with (cheat this or just have them yell at each other a lot) — ♡ have a very caring spouse who you’re madly in love with — ♡ have a perfect white picket fence home with your spouse — ♡ slowly rebuild a relationship with your ex — ♡ start hooking up with your ex and one of you gets pregnant — ♡ raise the child under your roof — ♡ have three more children with your spouse — ♡ divorce your spouse as an adult and take all the children — ♡ stop being a stay at home parent and join the politician career — ♡ master aspiration. — ♡ will you continue seeing your ex?

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ 𝐁 𝐎 𝐌 𝐁 𝐒 𝐎 𝐍 𝐌 𝐎 𝐍 𝐃 𝐀 𝐘 𝐌 𝐎 𝐑 𝐍 𝐈 𝐍 𝐆 ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙ 𝐠 𝐞 𝐧 𝐞 𝐫 𝐚 𝐭 𝐢 𝐨 𝐧 𝟐

aspiration: freelance botanist career: gardener traits: unflirty, loves the outdoors, cheerful colors: white && pink

— pinky promise, i’ll still love your garden. even with no flowers. —

love isn’t real. it doesn’t feel real. you’re not even sure who your real other parent is. your parents were always too busy messing around and barely found time for you and your siblings. you basically swore off love, thinking it only caused problems. it’s not like it mattered anyway. you all died in the end. until you met someone at a coffee shop who shared your love for the outdoors. it was rare meeting anyone as passionate as you. at first, you rejected any and all attempts to go on a date with this person. but wow, they kind of insisted on it. so you decided to humor them and despite your unflirty ways, they liked you. it was a strange feeling but it made you fall madly in love for the first time.

and then a cowplant ate them.

see, you knew this would happen. nothing can ever be sunshine and daisies. it’s too much to ask. but after stumbling across some pomegranate seeds, you got an idea. it’s not like there was anyone else for you in this world. was it wrong to bring back a dead person?

— will your relationship be sustainable with someone who is back from the dead? was it cruel to bring them back in the first place? can you continue to love them as they are?

— ♡ have a dead lover with the traits loves the outdoors, loner, vegetarian — ♡ plant a pomegranate garden in your backyard — ♡ sell flowers as a side gig — ♡ create a death flower — ♡ bring back your dead lover, but change their traits to loner, gloomy and evil (cas.fulleditmode) — ♡ have children (as many as you want) — ♡ master gardener skill — ♡ have partner join the criminal career after resurrection — ♡ complete freelance botanist aspiration — ♡ how will you keep this relationship alive?

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ 𝐂 𝐋 𝐀 𝐒 𝐒 𝐅 𝐈 𝐆 𝐇 𝐓 ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙ 𝐠 𝐞 𝐧 𝐞 𝐫 𝐚 𝐭 𝐢 𝐨 𝐧 𝟑

aspiration - public enemy career - criminal (boss) traits: evil, self assured, geek colors - pink && orange

— no, no, no. don’t you choke. daddy chimed in, go for the throat. —

having an evil parent in the mafia was no joke. and oh, did you admire them for all their hard work. i mean, they literally came back from the dead. how cool is that? you wanted to be like them and would do whatever it took to gain their approval. your grades were awful, your friends were the worst and your parents got weekly phone calls from school about you. it was a nice feeling. you even met a partner just like you and you felt inseparable. kind of like a modern bonnie & clyde minus the bad parts like dying in a hail of bullets. that’s bad.

when you had your first and only child, you didn’t take much interest in them, though.

it wasn’t their fault, you just had a crime organization to run. so your parent, the non evil one, mostly raised them. and maybe that was for the best. you didn’t have much parental instinct and who knows how messed up they might have turned out if you raised them. all’s well that ends well.

— how long can you keep up this lifestyle before it catches up with you? Are you going to regret ignoring your child? or worse, will you regret not conforming to a normal life?

— ♡ get terrible grades in school — ♡ meet and fall in love with a sim that has the exact same traits as yours (cheat this if needed) — ♡ have three friends, all with an evil trait — ♡ get pregnant but take no time off — ♡ have your parents move in to help take care of the baby themselves (cheat a longer lifespan if needed) — ♡ maintain a low relationship with your child — ♡ have a terrible reputation — ♡ max out mischief skill — ♡ reach top of criminal career, boss branch — ♡ will you ever have a good relationship with your child?

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ 𝐓 𝐑 𝐀 𝐈 𝐍 𝐈 𝐍 𝐆 𝐖 𝐇 𝐄 𝐄 𝐋 𝐒 ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙ 𝐠 𝐞 𝐧 𝐞 𝐫 𝐚 𝐭 𝐢 𝐨 𝐧 𝟒

aspiration: soulmate BUT SWITCH to leader of the pack career: freelance writer traits: romantic, genius, bookworm colors - orange && red

— fully undressed, no training wheels left for you. and i’ll pull them off for you. —

unlike your grandparent that raised you, you were a believer in love. love at first sight, opposites attract, enemies to lovers. if it was a love trope, you believed in it. you pretty much devoted your life to the idea of love. so when you met the one, just like in all the obscure fanfiction you read, they swept you off your feet. you would do anything in the world to be with them. every hour of every day. you just couldn’t get enough of them. your life felt perfect when you were with them and nothing in this world could make you feel bad again.

until they dumped your ass.

you spent the better half of your breakup keyboard smashing new fanfic titles about loveless relationships while downing a whole tub of ben & jerry’s. and really, who could blame you? that was rough. and thus, the baddies club was originated. a club of three pretty best friends, all single, and didn’t need no damn relationship. or did you?

— is this the life you’ve been dreaming of? or are you still a hopeful romantic at heart, waiting on someone to come take you away? but how would your besties feel if they knew?

— ♡ go through a breakup with your significant other — ♡ write three books with hateful titles about relationships — ♡ switch aspiration to leader of the pack — ♡ start a club of singles and get only two pretty best friends to join — ♡ develop an extremely close bond with your two new friends — ♡ go out with your besties every friday night — ♡ host a movie night on saturdays — ♡ max out writing skill — ♡ complete leader of the pack aspiration — ♡ move your besties in with you and decide to adopt and raise a child together — ♡ will you ever find love again or are you and your besties true soulmates for life?

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ 𝐏 𝐈 𝐓 𝐘 𝐏 𝐀 𝐑 𝐓 𝐘 ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙ 𝐠 𝐞 𝐧 𝐞 𝐫 𝐚 𝐭 𝐢 𝐨 𝐧 𝟓

aspiration: villainous valentine career: fashion (trend setter) traits: noncommittal, jealous, high maintenance

colors - red && black

— it’s my party, and i’ll cry if i want to. i’ll cry until the candles burn down this place. —

you’re a brat. it’s as simple as that, really. with so many people watching over you while growing up, it was rare you didn’t get what you wanted. and you were always kinda jealous of how smart your parent was. they were just - so good at everything. and all you really had was beauty. who cares about that crap? beauty fades. well, it was really your only defining attribute so might as well make the best of it while you could. you just wished people liked you for you and not because you were extremely smoking hot.

well, then. if you can’t be happy, no one can. that’s a principle you always lived by.

you became a prolific fashionista and a professional life ruiner. not only did you ruin marriages, you broke hearts of your own lovers. it just felt so dang good to be in control. until - uh oh. you met a gym rat and now you can’t stop thinking about their perfect eyes. no, this can’t be happening. you don’t fall in love. who the hell do they think they are, walking into your life like that? better make them pay.

— are you really falling in love that easily? or is it just a fluke? will you keep ruining lives forever or do you think it may be time to settle down?

— ♡ do yoga every morning — ♡ be enemies with every sim as gorgeous as your sim you come across — ♡ have 3000 followers on social media — ♡ meet a super attractive sim at the gym — ♡ make them fall in love with you and break up with them — ♡ complete villainous valentine aspiration — ♡ rekindle old flame with sim you met at the gym — ♡ max wellness skill — ♡ have identical same gender twins with gym sim (you can cheat this if needed) — ♡ will you put your past behind you and accept love into your life?

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ 𝐂 𝐎 𝐏 𝐘 𝐂 𝐀 𝐓 ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙ 𝐠 𝐞 𝐧 𝐞 𝐫 𝐚 𝐭 𝐢 𝐨 𝐧 𝟔

aspiration: big happy family career: stay at home parent (artist freelancer) traits: art lover, creative, clumsy

colors - black && peach

— you’re a copy cat. you take it, then you leave it just like that. —

you were born as a twin to a narcissistic parent and unfortunately, you were the scapegoat while your twin was the golden child. your twin always got the three hundred dollar christmas present and you were lucky to get the book you asked for. if your twin did something wrong, it was actually your fault. you couldn’t wait to break away from the dysfunction in your family. and break away, you did. you moved out the minute you turned 18 and you didn’t look back. mostly, you made money by selling anime oc art on simblr. but a sim that you met on the same website offered for you to come stay with them. and eventually, like a movie, the two of you fell in love. you even started talking about a future together. you mentioned wanting children to treat them better than your parents did you.

but, wait. why the hell is your twin showing up at your door suddenly?

without much invitation, your twin is now living with you guys. you’ve explained to your partner that you can’t really say no to your twin. you’d feel like a bad sibling if you did that. however, you twin is acting kinda weird. a streak of jealousy, perhaps? oh, they’re just like your parent! not only does your twin insist on sharing the same roof, you caught them flirting with your partner who thought it was you. and why is your twin wearing your favorite cardigan? and when you guys fall pregnant with your first child, suddenly your twin wants to take the baby. oh, hell no.

— how will you choose to handle your twin trying to steal your life? you still love them so what can you do? do you let this run its course or intervene? could your family be in danger?

— ♡ be moved in with your soulmate — ♡ have your twin move in with you — ♡ your twin should have the traits slob, kleptomaniac and lazy — ♡ get married to your soulmate, but your twin crashes the wedding by acting inappropriately and upsetting guests — ♡ you take up freelancing art professionally and your twin joins at the same time — ♡ catch your partner cheating on you with your twin — ♡ rebuild your relationship with your partner over time and fall pregnant — ♡ have your twin constantly take over caring for the baby — ♡ have two more children — ♡ move the annoying twin out of town with one of your babies and half your money. they stole your baby! — ♡ switch to that household and dedicate your life to raising the stolen baby as the annoying twin — ♡ will you ever get your sweet baby back?

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ 𝐎 𝐑 𝐀 𝐍 𝐆 𝐄 𝐉 𝐔 𝐈 𝐂 𝐄 ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙ 𝐠 𝐞 𝐧 𝐞 𝐫 𝐚 𝐭 𝐢 𝐨 𝐧 𝟕

aspiration: free space career: business, then switch to law then switch to your choice traits: gloomy, music lover, ambitious

colors - peach & brown

— your body is imperfectly perfect, everyone wants what the other one’s working. —

you suffered terribly with your identity. you didn’t know who you were or who you wanted to be. your parent couldn’t provide a birth certificate or photos of you at the hospital when you were born. you didn’t even know who your other parent was. everyone has two parents, right? see, that’s your problem. you want to be like everyone else, unable to find yourself in all the confusion. the confusion of going nowhere. you’ve always been told this or that is the right way. but have you ever considered your own way? maybe it was time to stop comparing to others and just go.

now yours would be a journey of self discovery. you deserved it after all.

after going through some documents at work one day, you saw a missing flyer of yourself. no. it couldn’t be. you were stolen. that explains so much about everything! you’re determined to find your real parents and figure out where you fit in in life. kinda weird you look so much like who you thought was your bio parent. maybe there’s more to this than you realize.

— how will you confront the person who raised you? what path will you choose when you finally have a sense of identity? are you parents everything you thought they would be?

— ♡ get a job in business straight out of graduating high school (aging up to a young adult) — ♡ stay living with your parent to help them cover the cost of your home (you can use cheats if funds are low) — ♡ decide you don’t like business and switch to law — ♡ find your birth parents and start building a relationship with them — ♡ go to the park with your real parents every monday and have a barbeque. — ♡ kick your fake parent out once you have reached 100 friendship with both of your real parents. keep all household funds to yourself. — ♡ decide what career you want and stick to it — ♡ max five skills of your choice — ♡ meet your future spouse at work and have children with them that your real parents get to know — ♡ what ever happened to your fake parent that stole you?

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ 𝐇 𝐈 𝐆 𝐇 𝐒 𝐂 𝐇 𝐎 𝐎 𝐋 𝐒 𝐖 𝐄 𝐄 𝐓 𝐇 𝐄 𝐀 𝐑 𝐓 𝐒 ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙ 𝐠 𝐞 𝐧 𝐞 𝐫 𝐚 𝐭 𝐢 𝐨 𝐧 𝟖

aspiration: soulmate career: education traits: goofball, bro, dance machine

colors - brown && gold

— if you can’t handle a heart like mine, don’t waste your time with me. —

you were a class clown. everyone, and i mean everyone, just adored you to pieces. but of them all, you only adored one back. they were your rock and you truly loved everything about them. their hair, the way they smelled even the way they talked. but maybe you were a little too friendly and you gave the wrong signals. you were always just the best friend. when they introduced you, you were just the best friend. you wanted to be more. you always hoped for more. but at the same time, you didn’t want to ruin what you had going. all the way through high school and into adulthood.

and then they got married and you realized you were still in love with your high school best friend. your sweetheart.

you confessed your love for them one starry night and they confessed they’ve always felt the same. but now there’s a problem. their spouse. without much time to consider it, your best friend gets a divorce and is all about you now. this is what you wanted, right? is it? uh oh, someone is getting cold feet now.

— is this the life you want or maybe did you just want to prove you could do it? would you be better off with someone who chose you first? or better off alone?

— ♡ accept EVERY hangout invitation on your days off only — ♡ have a total of ten good friends — ♡ complete three whims every day — ♡ confess your attraction to your best friend at their house during night time — ♡ provoke them to leave their spouse — ♡ max out comedy skill — ♡ max out dance skill — ♡ go on a date with your best friend once their divorce is finalized — ♡ get married, but leave them at the altar before the wedding ends — ♡ find out one of you is having the other’s baby — ♡ will you go back to them and work things out for the sake of the child?

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ 𝐌 𝐑 𝐒 𝐏 𝐎 𝐓 𝐀 𝐓 𝐎 𝐇 𝐄 𝐀 𝐃 ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙ 𝐠 𝐞 𝐧 𝐞 𝐫 𝐚 𝐭 𝐢 𝐨 𝐧 𝟗

aspiration: mansion baron career: you’re too gorgeous to work traits: neat, hates children, mean

colors - gold & silver

— do you swear you’ll stay forever? even if her face don’t stay together? —

when you were little, you had dreams and aspirations of grandeur. you couldn’t imagine an amount of money that would satisfy you. however, you didn’t really wanna work for it like other people. you were kinda hoping it would just fall into your lap. and fall into your lap, it most certainly did. in the form of the wealthiest sim in town. it started by them offering to cover your coffee and as you turned up the charm, they only became more smitten with you. you were gorgeous with youth on your side. they simply couldn’t resist. everything was going so well. all you had to do was keep up your appearance, manage your home and look stunning while doing so. nothing could bring you down.

nothing except maybe aging.

as you got older, your now spouse seemed bored with you. the children you had together even seemed annoyed with you. you decided to ask your spouse for some money to “fix yourself”. they provided the funds for you to get cosmetic surgery, but they didn’t stay. now you just had a large empty home with screaming children, living on borrowed fortune and big lips. so it’s mostly up to one of your kids to strike big and take care of you. it’s not like you’ll be getting a job ever.

— will you realize beauty is only skin deep? will you ever find love again? could you learn how to be the parent your children need?

— ♡ never work a day in your life — ♡ marry the wealthiest sim in town as a young adult — ♡ max out fitness skill only by jogging/treadmill or reading — ♡ max out charisma skill — ♡ accidentally have two children before becoming an adult — ♡ accidentally have one more child as an adult — ♡ change your sim once a sim week as an adult in cas.fulleditmode by slightly increasing lip size and breast OR butt size depending on gender ID. — ♡ divorce your rich spouse and be left with the house, but only half the money — ♡ will you get revenge on your ex spouse? you thought they’d never leave you.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ 𝐒 𝐇 𝐎 𝐖 && 𝐓 𝐄 𝐋 𝐋 ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙ 𝐠 𝐞 𝐧 𝐞 𝐫 𝐚 𝐭 𝐢 𝐨 𝐧 𝟏𝟎

aspiration: world famous celebrity career: actor traits: snob, outgoing, good

colors - silver && lilac

— i’m on display for all you f*ckers to see. —

you lived a lavish life in the lap of luxury. you were the child of an elite and pretty much got everything you wanted. your face was already pretty well known so when your recently divorced parent put you into showbiz, it was pretty easy to get in. you knew your parent was only using you so that they didn’t have to work. and as crappy as it is, you still loved your parent very much and wanted to also be able to provide for your siblings. so you couldn’t really say no. as time went on, people loved you. you were charismatic, outgoing and sweet. somewhat. but that pressure to maintain image started to build and people’s expectations of you grew higher.

it felt like they were always screaming dance, monkey. dance.

to make matters worse, you were becoming a household name and the sims elite wanted you as part of their organization. promising immortality. they drink blood so you’re pretty sure they are a vampire cult. you can’t get them to leave you the hell alone. but wow, one of them is kinda gorgeous.

— will you join the elite yourself and become an immortal? or maybe it’s best to go into hiding and never be seen literally ever again? this cult stuff sounds pretty serious.

— ♡ reach the top of the acting career — ♡ send your parent money every week (min 500 simoleons. cheat this by using money and taking 500 off your wallet every week sims time) — ♡ have an eccentric silver(white) & lilac penthouse in the city — ♡ host five meet and greets — ♡ max acting skill — ♡ find an obscure hobby of your choice — ♡ cycle through four different relationships at the same time — ♡ meet some hot vampires who want to turn you into one of them — ♡ fall in love with a vampire and run away with them into seclusion in a different world — ♡ drop your fame and never return to the spotlight, lose all connections to family and live out a secluded life with your vampire lover.

enjoy this challenge? don’t forget to tag me in screenies under #crybabywhims. this challenge is still under development and changes may be made as i see fit. join my discord community to post about the challenge there as well.

have fun my angels! — ♡

#draeyad challenge #crybaby whims #sims 4 challenge

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thealtoduck · 2 years

Text

A little party never killed nobody

Peter Parker x BlackCat!Male!Reader

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, reader is a little gay fuckboy, drinking, Peter loses his virginity to reader, bottom reader…

Summary: Spider-Man and the Black Cat unknowingly crosses paths at a house party…

(A/n: This fic dosen’t really mention that Y/n is Black Cat but i see it as the same canon as my other Black Cat fics)

——

Y/n and his friends walked around the school handing out invitations for the house party they were holding to celebrate… well Y/n didn’t know what they were celebrating… he only knew that it would include alchohol and the possibilty of sex, which was enough for him to be in on it.

He walked into the lunch hall and started handing out invites to some people he knew. He then spotted a mostly empty table where only three people sat. There was Michelle Jones aka Mj, Y/n’s lab partner and kind off friend, she constantly told him she didn’t like him but the two still occaisionally hung out.

Then there was Ned Leeds, the excitable ray of sunshine. And last but not least the king of nerds himself Peter Parker, despite the introduction Y/n was actually quite fond of Peter as the two had been forced to work together on several assigntments. So Y/n with the little moral compass he had told his friends to leave Peter, Ned and Mj alone while being douchebags.

”Yo Mj, me and my friends are having a party at Cory’s place, you and your friends are invited to come if you want” you said cooly. ”They aren’t my friends” Mj said in her regular non-caring voice. ”Whatever they’re still invited” you told her and walked off to hand out more ivitations.

”The most popular guy in school just invited us to a party” Ned whispered excitedly to Peter. ”Do i have to go? It’s not my thing” Peter told Ned. ”Come on Peter, it’s only one night and we can leave if you find it boring” Ned tried to convince him.

*Time Skip*

The smell of alcohol was strong in the air as Y/n made his way through the crowd of drunk teenagers, someone definetely put to much vodka in the punch (which you didn’t mind). He walked around looking for something to do (or someone).

He then saw Peter Parker sitting alone on the couch looking bored checking his phone quite often and occaisionally taking a sip from his cup. He was obviously not having a great time, which stirred up some odd feeling in you, was this what people called pity? you thought to yourself and walked over to Peter.

”Hey, you liking the party?” you asked the brown eyed boy. ”Oh… Yeah, i-it’s great” Peter said unconvincingly. ”You’re a terrible liar” you deadpanned and took a sip from your cup shuddering a bit from the alcohol. ”Come on, we’ll go somewhere more quiet” you said and led Peter away from the crowded room.

He was led through a less crowded hallway in to an empty bedroom, Peter stood still in the doorframe. ”Relax i’m not gonna try to seduce you” Y/n told him. Peter entered and sat down on the beds left corner. Y/n then locked the door and turned to Peter and asked ”You don’t mind if i lock the door, do you? Don’t want any people coming in here trying to make babies if you catch my drift”.

”Yeah, it’s cool” Peter answered and you walked over and sat down on the bed by the headboard bringing your feet up to the bed (shoes still on). ”So honestly, what do you think about the party?” you asked. ”It’s not really my thing, i only came because Ned wanted to” Peter said simply.

”Well now you’re hanging with me so move up here we’re watching something on Neflix” you said Peter sat down beside you at the headboard as you turned on the tv in the room and started scrolling through the movies and shows. You put on Brooklyn 99 and the two of you started watching.

The two of you started talking during the show and you had a lot of fun, you told him about some crazy things you’d done while drunk and he talked about some of his favorite movies and shows, which you found adorable since he seemed really passionate about them.

And soon enough after a bit more drinking the two of you were making out. Peter’s hand slipped down to your crotch and he felt the bulge in your pants. He quickly pulled it away and whispered ”Sorry, i should have asked first”. ”Don’t worry it’s okay you can touch more than that if you want” you told the nervous boy.

You then unbuckled your pants and pulled them down your legs revealing your boxers. Peter started doing the same and was left in his boxers as well. ”So, how do you wanna do this?” you asked. ”Uhh, i’ve never done this before so i’ll let you lead” Peter answered a bit shyly.

”You sure you wanna go through with this” you asked him to make sure he was fully in it. Peter nodded. You climbed in between Peter’s legs and pulled down his underwear slightly revealing his hardend dick. You wrapped your mouth around his cock and started moving up and around it.

Peter let out a moan as you worked your magic around his dick. You ran your tounge around his big pole. ”Uh yeah, that feels good”. His dick was so deep in your mouth you almost gagged.

You then brought your mouth off his cock and asked ”Wanna go even further than this?”. Peter nodded eagerly and watched as you started taking your shirt off as well as your boxers leaving you fully naked in front of Peter. Peter gazed slightly at your cock.

Peter followed your lead and took off his shirt showing you his hot abs. ”Wanna top or bottom?” you asked patiently. ”I’ll top if your okay with it?” he suggested and you nodded. You laid down on your back and lifted your legs and revealed your previously used hole for the virgin boy.

Peter trailed his finger over it slightly and then slowly started pushing in a finger to stretch you out. ”Yeah, fuck” you swore as you felt the familiar sensation of someone entering you with their finger.

Peter then added another finger and started working it in and out of you faster. You moaned as Peter then added one last finger into you. ”Does that feel good?” he asked.

”Yeah” you moaned pleasurbly. Then the time had come. You were ready for the real thing. Peter pulled down his boxers fully and placed his dick by your enterance and started pushing in. You moaned as Peter’s huge member filled you up.

Peter moaned as well from the new sensation around his cock. He let you get used to his size before he started moving in and out of you with a slow pace. He flooded you in a pleasure you had rarely felt before. Was this what it was like being fucked by someone you actually liked.

You had never moaned like this before it felt loud and uncontrolled, like the person going down the hallway to the bathroom would defintely hear you getting pleasured by the king of nerds.

Peter was also feeling the pleasure of the situation he felt so in control and almost powerful as he saw your face twist in ecstacy with your hole wrapped around his cock. The thought that he the schools nerd could make Y/n, the hottest guy and biggest fuckboy in school moan uncontrollably as he plowed into him made him feel good.

Peter started pushing into Y/n faster and more roughly, which made Y/n think ”damn, he’s pretty fucking good for a virgin”. Though he could have never said that cause the boy who was laying on his back taking dick was in too much bliss to form a full sentence.

Peter’s thrust started growing more sloppy and you knew it was time so you managed to get out the words ”Cum inside me” and with less then a second to spare your hole was flooded with cum.

”Suck me off” you said while running your hand up and down your length. Peter listend and dove on to your cock with his mouth and moved up and down it. You then felt your toes curl as you released your seed into his mouth. Peter then climbed further up the bed and started making out with you again and you could taste your cum in his mouth.

After the best fuck in your life you then moved away from Peter’s lips. ”Can we rest now? I’m a bit tired” you yawned. ”Of course, Y/n” Peter said and wrapped his arms around you. ”Y/n, i’m glad you were my first” he whispered. ”It was a nice cherry to pop” you replied tiredly and it didn’t take long for you to fall asleep on Peter’s sweaty bare chest.

#peter parker x male reader #peter parker x male!reader #x male reader #male reader #spider man x male reader #spiderman x male reader #x male!reader #x male reader smut #male reader smut #avengers x male reader #avengers x male!reader #mcu x male reader #marvel x male reader #marvel x male!reader #peter parker x male reader smut

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jupitersdescendant · 2 years

Text

hey everyone, i’m back with another reading!

today’s topic: what is other people’s first impression of you?

there’s three piles you can choose from, going from left to right. here’s how it works: close you eyes and meditate on the question for a while. if you feel ready, open your eyes and choose the pile you feel the most drawn to. it’s possible that you’ll feel drawn to more than one pile. please remember that this is a general reading so only take what resonates. this is for entertainment purposes only. lastly, tarot is only guide, nothing is set in stone and at the end it’s you who has the power over your life.

none of the pictures belong to me, the artist is ans debije.

hello, pile 1!

from the looks of it you come across as very detached and hard to grasp. you give a strong first impression and others often can’t help but notice you. they feel like you’re out of reach and don’t just share your energy with anybody, many find it hard to approach you. you could be very opinionated and aren’t afraid to share these opinions. most of the time people don’t know what to make of you and find it difficult to get to know you. you like to keep your distance even though i’m not necessarily getting introverted vibes. you’re confidant and competent and that shows, especially in the way you present yourself. this also shows in the way you walk which might be kind of impressive. you’re energetic, you do what you want and don’t care what others think. you carry a fire inside you. others could get the impression that you’re kind of superficial or give a lot of worth and importance to material stuff. you seem well traveled or just love traveling a lot! people view you as very abundant like you’ve got it all and i feel like you attract jealousy easily. you come across as very prideful and others often get the feeling that you view yourself above others. this could sometimes very well be true, since i’m definitely picking up on some ego issues here, but you never mean any harm and could actually struggle a lot with yourself in the sense that you think you’re the sh*t one second while you’re obsessing over every little imperfection in the next. your relationship with yourself fluctuates a lot. still, others can’t help to notice that you’re someone generous and compassionate with a big heart which is for sure one of the reasons why they find it so hard to place you in the beginning. it looks like you easily move through hardships and always get what you want in the end. people see that you’ve been through sh*it as well and you give strong don’t-mess-with-me-vibes. you could also be viewed as a little magical and like something out of a fairytale. you strike others as powerful and majestic which leaves them wondering where you left your throne lol. you carry a strong feminine energy, no matter you gender and even though we all know that beauty is a hundred percent subjective and i maybe shouldn’t push your ego to much, many still view you as very beautiful. but please don’t give your looks to much importance and instead of obsessing over everything you view as flaws, know that true beauty comes from within you. you might adore animals and nature and feel a strong connection to them. it’s very interesting because you come across as down to earth and free spirited and fiery at the same time. you’re also hardworking and like to do everything with precision. people see that you’re not afraid to walk your own path and admire you strength and talents.

let me know if resonates! have a great day/night 🖤

Pile 2

cards: knight of pentacles, the lovers (rx), judgement (rx), four of pentacles, empress. back of the deck: justice.

hii, pile 2!

for startes i just want to note that there were a couple cards that were similar to pile one so that could fit for a couple of you as well. anyways, people definitely get a little lone wolf energy from you, like you like to keep to yourself and don’t really care about forming connections with other human beings. others could even be afraid to approach you since they’re somehow bracing themselves for conflict. honestly i have no idea why that is but that’s just how they view you, maybe they just don’t know what to expect and that scares them. it’s probably not that easy for you to form new connections with others since you’re not the type to approach people, you’re kinda introverted. you still have a very grounding energy to you. especially romantic interests are kind of intimidated by you since it seems like you’re already so secure and don’t need anyone. many are afraid to be rejected by you because it looks like you could have anything you want and have opportunities waiting for you at every corner. people see you as intellectual. you have a strong voice or could even often use cutting words. you’re a mystery to others which makes you all the more intriguing. many get the impression that you probably carry some trauma with you but you basically rose from the dead. you also come across as very creative, hardworking and patient. you’re a perfectionist and immerse yourself wholeheartedly in your work which often leads you to neglect yourself and your needs. self care is important, dear! you strike others as very stable and responsible and like you carry a lot of strength within you. people could also think that you’re more interested in your work and accomplishments as well as getting financial and material security. you probably take on more than you can handle and carry a lot of baggage with you. like in pile 1 there’s a little more feminine energy coming through but it’s a bit more subtle. others see you as ample and also wise. you’re also very empathetic and actually carry a childlike energy with you but you barely show that side of yourself. some people pick up on it nonetheless though it’s probably one of the last things that come to mind since you’re somehow scared to show that side of you. others think you’re someone who fights for what is right and that fairness is very important to you. people also get the impression that you’re lucky and always get what you want since fate and the universe seem to have your back at all times. you probably keep your emotions and feelings on a tight lock which leads others to think that you’re kind of unemotional. i don’t wont to you to force yourself or anything but just try to open up a bit more. you also come across as if you strive for balance and harmony and try to be neutral in all situations to see everything clearer and from every perspective. though this doesn’t mean you don’t have an opinion or anything. others view you as someone who knows who they are and what they want and that you’re not afraid to face your fears and challenges head on.

let me know if it resonates! have a great day/night 🖤

Pile 3

cards: ace of pentacles, knight of pentacles (rx), four of pentacles, three of cups (rx), queen of pentacles. back of the deck: death (rx).

hey, pile 3!

i’m sorry but before we begin i just need to say that i can’t believe that the four of pentacles can’t stop showing her face in this reading since she came out for the other piles as well. looks like it’s possible that all piles are connected in a way and/or that you might’ve been drawn to another one as well. anyhow, you definitely give a memorable first impression and it’s pretty much impossible not to notice you. i heard that you might be an entrepreneur and that shows for sure. you take all that this world has to offer and want to live life in the fullest and best way possible. you love to try new and exciting things, you’re very dynamic. others see you as someone highly favoured in whatever you do and wherever you go and that the universe is always guiding and protecting you. i don’t feel like many people truly deeply know you and you tend to keep up a facade a lot, hiding your deep emotional side. it’s interesting because a lot of pentacles came out for you but i don’t think that actually fits your vibe. i mean i clarified everything and there were some different elements showing themselves as well but still you come across as much more carefree and lively. what the pentacles definitely show though is that you’re viewed as abundant in many things like wealth, looks, your personality somehow and stuff like that. you might be envied for all of that quite often. people probably underestimate you a lot but thats how you want it. you love control and so you love to control what people see of you and what stays hidden. you could have a lot of money or others could simply think that because of the way you present yourself but i feel like you’re definitely blessed when it comes to the material world. it still looks you had some unhealthy attachments to money and sh*t like that for a long time but there was a transformation for you for that matter. you come across as someone who always comes out on top in all that you do. the hardships that you face are merely temporary blockages for you and every time something challenges you, you come out stronger and better than before. you’re very transformative as much as you’re adventurous. many people want to be your friend and desire to build a connection with you. that’s probably not that easy though since you’re very secretive and only trust a selected few but that doesn’t mean that you aren’t always open and welcoming to new people because you definitely are! it’s just that you’re private by nature and probably also went through some kind of betrayal from people who you thought were your friends. this left you in despair and sadness but you still have people around you that love and celebrate you for who you are. i heard that you like to party and meet most people through that. others feel very comfortable in your presence since you have a welcoming and warm energy which makes you all the more desiring and intriguing to others. you also come across as very confidant. you’re a lot more in tune with your feminine side now than ever before and feel way more at home with yourself and your body. also, you finally started self care and nurturing yourself more which you definitely neglected for way to long honey but i’m proud that that’s not the case anymore. you are able to fit in with many different groups of people and that makes most of them want to get to know you better after meeting you for the first time. and just an extra note, change is definitely coming to you and fast at that. an old cycle is closing soon so keep your adventurous spirit and be excited for what the universe will soon give you. it’s important for you and this new chapter in your life that you leave all that no longer serves you behind.

let me know if it resonates! have a great day/night 🖤

🔮 thanks a lot for reading 🔮

#tarot reading #pac reading #pick a pile #pick a pile reading #pick a card #pick a card reading #pac tarot #spirituality #divination #witchcraft

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hanitarot · 2 years

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Your love story 💌

PAC #6

hello everyone. Choose a picture that resonates with you. If you feel that the description does not suit you, please choose another one. Sorry for my bad english-

Pile 1

Hiii guys! I think your love story will begin when you experience something bad. Someone will break your heart. This is the moment when you pull yourself together and start working on yourself. You will spend more time with yourself and experience many difficulties. You have a karmic path to your love. You must become smarter, older, wiser before meeting your love. At the time of meeting with them, you will have many things to do that you will not even notice them. But they will notice you. They will definitely fall in love with you at first sight. They will notice your beauty and wisdom. I see a picture of them flirting with you and trying to interest you while you think they are just trying to hit on you. You kindle in them the passion to conquer you. They look like those very characters from the movies who are interested in someone and try to run after them. They will seek to meet you, follow you to every party. You seem nice and calm to me. You will most likely only laugh at their flirtations, but then your relationship will develop more and more. They will make plans with you and will try to interest you with their ideas. They will already be sure that you will have a relationship, while you seem more independent and all in business. I see that later you will love them with all your heart, too, for everything they do for you and for their love. You have taught them many things, and they will always be devoted to you.

your impression of them: they will seem to you cunning, too reckless and active. The ones who can't be trusted. They will seem to you those who have a lot of power and everything in this life

possible mbti: ENTP, estj, enfp, esfp, entj, enfj

"I'm really ready to give everything for you"

"for me you are the greatest gift"

"you look very hot"

"I want you to be mine, and I want to be yours"

"I will do everything to make you happy"

Pile 2

Hello!!! I see that you will meet your love somewhere at work. You may want to work in the beauty or finance industry. Either way, you will be in high position. You have experience and knowledge, you have already built a life for yourself. Your person is much more gentle than you. He loves very deeply, he is easily hurt and emotional. He reminds me of a puppy to be honest. You have already built yourself while they are sad that they are not good enough for you. They try their best, believe me. By the way, I think that the first you will be interested in them. Reminds me a lot of the love story of Han Joon-Woo and Im Hee-Kyung from True Beauty. I truly loved this couple. He will be extremely sweet and kind. You will be interested in their positivity and some innocence. They will seem to you wise, well-read. You will immediately understand that they are your destiny. You will always smile when you see them. They are the kind of people who smile at children, help animals, take care of things. They are well-mannered, a little awkward and clumsy. You will find them very funny. I see that you will most likely be colleagues, or somehow connected with work. They will fail in some case, and will be unjustly accused, but you will take their side. You will help them because you know how hard they tried. They are too kind.. They will raise your self-esteem, they will tell you the words that you should have heard. They will cheer you up, inspire you and inspire your feelings. They will always give you butterflies in your stomach.

your impression of them: very nice and diligent. Ready to sacrifice themselves. Sensitive and deep. They care deeply about the feelings of those around them. They will be like a gift for you that you deserve. They are the ones you look up to because they heal you and help you get better.

possible mbti: INFP, infj, enfp, isfp, isfj, enfj, esfj

"I'm not cute"

"If you want to see the most beautiful person, look in the mirror"

"why am I a fruity?"

"please don't get upset"

"I will help you in everything"

"I will always be with you"

Pile 3

Hi group 3! You will most likely meet on some kind of trip. You will go somewhere on business, but you will have some kind of problem or even trouble. You may lose money or something else, but then they appear. At first nothing will arise between you, they will come to help you. For some reason I see that this is a person from another country, or you came to another country. They kindly help a stranger in need. I see a picture of you crying, and they are trying to cheer you up. I tried to lay out tarot cards how you will communicate in the future, and here is a rather strange situation. They will most likely help you, but I do not understand how you will communicate further. Perhaps you will live next to them or work, communicate, etc. Ahahah what's funny is that you probably won't get along later.. Oops. When you're in trouble, they may call you a crybaby or a troublesome person, and you'll get mad at them for it even though they helped. I see you are active, emotional, irritable to some extent, you have a lively character, and they are calm, intelligent and reasonable. That's why they thought you were stupid when you met. After that, you often did not get along and could make comments to each other. I still can’t understand how you will meet later.. But I see a lot of comical and funny situations between you. I'm sorry, but I see you have a bit of a difficult personality, and they are smart and will always get you out of trouble. In fact, it's even cute. They will accept you completely and understand you. Contact will begin to develop between you, you will fall in love with each other very much. Although you will sometimes make mistakes that you will regret, they will accept everything calmly.

Your impression of them: they are probably older than you. They are smart and rather silent. But they are kind and give you a smile. You can often be very jealous of them. Your couple is quite funny and cute. You are like those same old woman and old man who argue but actually love each other :))

possible mbti: istj, isfj, esfj, intj, entj, estj, intp

"this is absurd"

"calm down"

"Trust me"

"why are you stupid today too?"

"every day a new beginning"

"I want to understand you"

Pile 4

Helloo.. Oops, I see you already know each other. Well, or in the future, you will first be friends. You will have a friendship, perhaps even a group of friends. You will have fun, constantly laugh. You will become as close as if you were best friends. Everything will be cool, but I'm afraid that later you will stop communicating. Something will separate you, you can quarrel or they will go far and cut off ties with you. I think you will most likely quarrel. You will stop communicating because of some stupid resentment, but the two of you already have feelings. You can understand them later. You do not want to give in to each other, so reconciliation will not be quick. Fate will bring you. As if everything is calculated so that you should understand yourself and each other during the time of separation. When you meet, you will already be different people. But new versions of you will only make you love each other more. Just at the first meeting, you will talk to each other, discuss everything that happened and all the problems. You will understand, apologize and forgive. They will be fascinated by who you have become. Like you had a huge glow up. You will be happy that you can now talk about your feelings, but something is stopping you. Damn guys, stop cursing and arguing because of your conflicting feelings. Accept your falling in love, don't avoid it, lower your ego. But I see that you will again constantly put up. The same couple that constantly puts up and swears. A bit like group 3.... But in any case, you will learn to find compromises. You are so beautiful and will become the best version of yourself, but work on your self-esteem, please. Self-esteem is either too low or too high... You will be fine in any case, you will be happy together and accept each other as you are. To be honest, you are very similar to each other, I think this was the problem in your conflicts. You will always be together, travel, spend time, hang out, build businesses, maybe even work together. Very cute couple, like you are real soulmates

your impression of them: You seem to already know them very well. They are so cheerful for you, funny, they always cheer you up when they act like fools. They are sociable and active. They have personal problems that sometimes break them. I feel the energy of a leo, you or they have in the natal chart. Venus in Leo or Aries... Maybe in synastry...

Possible mbti: esfp, entp, enfp, estp, istp, isfp, infp, intp

"these flowers are for you"

"you're wrong >:("

"let's talk"

"I just want to lie down with you"

"I want to spend as much time with you as possible"

"no one understands me better than you"

Thanks for reading, please feedback!

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hawnks · 2 years

Text

first law of motion

gojo satoru x reader

r18

word count: 9,500

[soulmate identifying marks, canon divergence, reader is not a sorcerer, alcohol mention, shogi as a plot fixture, gojo is forced to reckon with his humanness, and everyone else’s for that matter, gojo goes from indifference to absolute obsession, and he discovers a need to take care of his lover on the way, reader is kind of a hot mess tbqh]

Things are bound to get a little messy when your soulmate is Satoru Gojo.

It’s a summer weekend, and Tokyo is swollen with August heat and tourists. Bodies brushing against bodies, skin gummy and damp. A lot is happening, and a part of him wants to tune it all out. He gets the instinctive urge to shield his eyes, even though they’re already covered.

There’s some convention going on, he doesn’t keep up to date on that kind of thing. All he knows is the swelter and the quiet unrest that comes with it.

Crime increases during heat waves; so do curse attacks. He’s been sent to deal with some disaster, well below his pay grade. It didn’t even cross his mind to reject the request. The last few months have clouded his sense of purpose. The near misses and injuries, watching people under his protection be battered and brutalized—

He can do this, so he does. He can do anything. So he does.

And he walks through the crowd, knowing what’s lying in wait out there, what could snuff out any one of their lives so simply and easily, and leave not a trace. He thinks about the causal cruelty of life, of everything.

Until his brooding is interrupted by —

Cans of grapefruit Fanta rolling across the sidewalk, continually kicked and lost under the feet of unaware pedestrians. And there’s you crawling on the ground, reaching for the cans as they continue to slip away. You’re wearing all black, formal not gothic. You’re clearly fresh from a funeral, or maybe the reception.

It’s all rather pathetic. He doesn’t even intend to make eye contact with you as you drag yourself across the ground, but you reach out as he crosses your path, bat his shin like a cat, looking up at him. Expectantly.

It’s been so long since someone’s touched him, he’s almost forgotten it was possible. He’s too on edge around other sorcerers these days, but his body comprehends you with a startling clarity. Absolute non-threat.

He picks up the can you gesture to, handing it over with a pointedly smarmy grin. “If you’re on your knees for piss flavored soda, I’d like to see what you’d do for a Klondike Bar.”

You blink at him. For a second, he thinks he’s genuinely offended you. But then you laugh. So hard the can slips from your grip with a dull clang, rolling off into the gutter, lost.

You wipe the tears from your eyes. You’re much nicer than him, of course. You say, “Thanks a lot for that one, cowboy.”

And he’s curious, more than anything.

He grabs you a plastic bag from a nearby convenience store for you to dump your stray cans in, doesn’t argue as you lead him to some back alley, where you can drink them together.

He’s right, they do taste like piss. You don’t seem to enjoy it much either, though, which makes him enjoy it just a smidge more.

You’re staring at him as you drink together, trying to divine answers from his inscrutable expression, the jet-black shades.

“I didn’t even know what a Klondike bar was until, like, highschool,” you say cordially. You’d offer to show him, but, “that’s a bit more stripping than I’m comfortable with on the first date.”

You glance up, checking his expression, which is unchanged.

But you see the truth in him, draw it out so easily it could only be the work of fate. Beneath his staunch nonchalance is a fine thread of uneasiness. About this. About you.

Your gaze turns evaluative, slightly salacious.

“You’re too tall for me.” The smile you wear is simple, blithe. Like you’re discussing the weather, rather than the will of the universe. “We’d never work.”

It’s easier, then, without the expectation of anything more. Conversation flows seamlessly, almost like the two of you are in some dream state. No one has to repeat themself, or explain it differently. It all comes with an effortlessness that makes him slightly wistful.

“This sucks,” you say, wiggling your half-drunk can. “Why would anyone make this?”

He wonders why you bought it, if you hate it so much. “Acquired taste?”

“Tastes awful,” you sigh, and take another suffering sip. He snickers.

You talk for the next few minutes, about everything and nothing. It’s filler conversation, funny without much substance, the easy humor between you two fluffing out the space.

“It’s too damn hot,” you groan, eventually. “I want kakigori.”

He’s not sure if it’s an invitation or you thinking aloud, but he feels the need to reject it, all the same.

“I have an appointment, after this,” he says, paying you another inscrutable smile.

And to his relief, you don’t falter.

You shrug, stretch your legs. “More for me, then.”

He doesn’t ask you about the funeral, or the shitty soda. He doesn’t ask you where you’re going after this. Doesn’t ask if you’re okay.

He likes you all the better for how little he knows. In your brief sojourn you’ve become something fleeting and ethereal. Like you hardly exist at all. Like he can hold the sliver of this moment up to the light and it will always be shiny and new.

It will never have to hurt. He likes you, best, for that.

The conversation has drawn to its end, and you rise first, brushing ineffectively at the dirt on your skirt, accepting the bag of leftover drinks he hands up to you with a murmured thanks.

You pause, standing before him, your shadow brushing his feet. You’re about to say something, but think better of it, adjusting your grip on the plastic handles, and turning away without another word.

And he should leave it be, allow you your moment of solitude, to end things with grace.

“Sorry about the piss thing,” he calls after you.

He thinks he hears you laugh, again.

Maybe he just imagined it.

He feels lighter, for the rest of the day. The heat doesn’t even bother him as he finishes his mission. Maybe it’s because he’d been dreading this day, ever since he knew what a soulmate was. How that was simply not him, how he could never be that for another person. He thought he’d have to break your heart; instead you slipped through the moment of contention like a cool breeze.

Or maybe it’s because every day he has walked this earth understanding sacrifice. What is more important than his own life. What is not. And that constant transaction woven through everything he touches, the math of life as constant and unerring as Caucasus Mountain eagles.

But tomorrow? He‘s going to eat kakigori.

…

Weeks pass. The days start to cool. He’s away from Tokyo for nearly the entire time, doesn’t have a second to breathe, let alone think about you.

His first day off in ages, he travels to the city, picking up as many sweets as he can carry, and a copy of a new movie for Yuuji. It’s simple, almost boring. But a part of him has been craving distance from the campus, and all its inhabitants, a kind of quiet disgust that he doesn’t care to investigate.

He’ll get over it. Eventually.

He’s about to turn to climb the stairs to the train when he spots you, ambling toward him. You don’t even pause, rolling your eyes as he falls in step beside you.

“Do I know you?” you say, and he could almost mistake you for being serious, if you weren’t smiling. “I told you, you’re not my type.”

“Shame,” he says. “Because you’re mine.”

“Alright, sweet talker. What do you want?”

“Nothing,” he says honestly. “This is pure coincidence.” You look skeptical at that, so he continues, “What’s that old adage about soulmates and lessons? Maybe we’re supposed to teach each other something, before we can move on.”

“I’ve already done that,” you say snidely. “If anyone’s got a lesson to learn here, it’s you.”

“Mmm, and what would that be, darling?”

“I dunno. Humility?” You pause to look him up and down, deciding on a course of action. He’s dressed in a button down and slacks. You look downright frumpy next to him, which is slightly mortifying. But there couldn’t be much more harm to him than that. You sigh, continuing on your way. “You can come, if you want. Although I imagine you’ll be bored out of your mind.”

He comes.

The shogi house is nearly empty today. It’s never been a particularly popular spot, but that’s part of why you like it. You’ve always had a great affection for underdogs.

Probably because you are one, yourself.

You’ve never played an official match, of course, but if you had to give yourself a definitive rating you’d say your skills are roughly equivalent to that of a ten year old. You’ve been coming here for months, and just recently gotten the hang of how all the pieces function. Actual strategy is still well beyond you.

Matches tend to be more of a party than an intellectual pursuit, when you’re involved. All of the grannies and grandpas gathering around, reminding you of rules and giving well meaning but ultimately fruitless advice. You haven’t won even once. Everyone fawns over you all the more for it, enamored with how green you are, how new everything is to you. “Good work” they say to you on the way out the door, every time, regardless of how accurate that is.

Today only three people are in the parlor when you arrive. A match is already in session at the far end of the room, leaving you to face off against the man in the corner. You know him, have played a few games with him, to brutal ends. His name is Mori, and he’s a ranked shogi player, a professional. He’s surprisingly high level, for someone just slightly older than you. He’ll definitely make something of himself, someday.

Your soulmate follows you to the board, settling into the background as you set up.

Greetings are brief. Mori asks you about your cat (a running joke between you), and you inquire about his last match (won with flying colors). Then you get started.

The difference in your capabilities is immediately clear. You’re on the defense after his first move, trying to make up for all the ground he’s gaining.

You hardly have time to think about the placement of the pieces, every move of his guiding yours. You expected this, of course. Losing fast and horribly was bound to happen in a mismatch like this.

The game is nearing its conclusion when you remember your soulmates presence. You glance at him, surreptitiously, as Mori considers his next move.

He sits, legs crossed, on a floor cushion that hardly fits him. He slouches, hands folded in his lap. You’re suddenly very aware of how unfortunate his size is. He probably doesn’t fit in a bed, or under a shower.

If he kissed you, he would need to bend down so far. His hands would be massive against your own.

Your next move is a fumble, which you know because Mori raises a brow, smiles. “You wanna take that back?”

In official matches, undoing moves is illegal. But everyone lets you do it, here. Insist on helping you learn, helping you grow.

But for some reason, doing that with Mori, now, seems childish. For the first time, you’re embarrassed of your skill level, of your innate inability.

You smile at him, coy, covering up the feeling. You gesture at him to continue.

That one move seals the game, and things wind to a close quickly. The two of you reset the board, and shake hands. Your opponent moves on to challenge one of the others in the parlor.

You’re gathering up your things, ready to leave, when your soulmate catches you by the sleeve.

“Teach me,” he says, more demand than implore. He’s already taken the seat across from you.

You’re not much of a teacher. Because you’re still a novice, at best, all you can really do is tell him the function of each piece, how it can move on the board. No schemes, no tips.

“I’m sure anyone around here would be happy to help you learn,” you say, wrapping up your spiel, and shifting to get off the floor.

But before you can rise, he’s moved a piece on the board with a decisive click. And the game has started.

He’s exceptionally poor at it, which is unexpected. You know, somehow, that he’s an excellent strategist. And it seems unlike him to be losing so spectacularly right out the gate, even if this is all new to him.

It makes it a bit hard for you to keep up, but in a different way then when you play with the other regulars. You’re used to being reactive, making your decisions based off the moves of others.

But there’s no logic to the way he plays, nothing you can build off. You claim one of his pieces, a promoted knight, one of the most valuable in the game. You frown as he sweeps it off the board — you’ve checked that piece only twice in your entire shogi career, and that was with the advice of better players.

He’s letting you win.

That fills you with an unexpected rage, and you take the knight from him with a scowl. His next move is pedantic, meandering. A nothing move, used to take up time.

You answer by moving your queen into a vulnerable position. He does the same.

The match caries on in that fashion, the both of you making increasingly stupid and brash moves, taunting the other to just finish things.

Finally you’re so incensed that you flick your own king off the board. He catches it, without looking. His gaze is steady on yours.

“Pretty sure that’s illegal.”

“You’re stupid face should be illegal,” you snap. “I don’t need a consolation prize. I know I suck at this.”

His grin is strange. Pleased, but not in the kind, sweet ways of the older shogi players who pet your hair, tell you you’ve done well. Your soulmate smiles at you like he’s won, somehow. Even though the match must have broken some record for worst plays imaginable.

You look down at the board. With your king piece no longer in play, the pattern is clear. A perfect draw.

You’d made the worst moves possible, but you played smart. Anticipating his own moves, reacting with clever and unpredictable actions. You were on the offensive, maybe for the first time since you started coming here.

“You’re a formidable player,” your soulmate drawls. His expression is cat-like. Smugly gratified. “Afraid they won’t treat you like their precious little baby anymore if you start winning?”

He waits for a response, but it doesn’t come. You’re still looking at the board like it’s the first time you’ve seen one. Like you’re not understanding what’s in front of you.

His smile sinks the longer you stare, not expecting this from you.

Finally, he reaches over the board with a closed fist. You hold your own hand open for him without thinking, nearly flinching when the solid diamond of the king piece lands against your palm. It’s warm from his skin.

“This was nice,” he says, all artifice dropped. “I’m glad I ran into you again.”

“Yeah,” you agree, despite yourself. Because you know he’d know anyway, even if you lied. “This was nice.”

He says nothing, after that. Rises on those big stag legs, and pays you a parting grin. The day has begun to fade into night, and a beam of golden light floods the parlor as he opens the door and steps out.

You flick the king piece back onto the board, strangely satisfied, and strangely not.

…

The proceedings are complicated. They’re restructuring the way the Jujutsu Tech schools function, and the way they train young sorcerers. The values they instill in them.

It’s a lot of politics, which Gojo hates and excels at.

He makes demands, and they’re listened to. Things are going his way, but it’s a delicate process. Building a new society takes time; he’s never been one for patience.

He travels with Megumi on a trip across the prefecture, exterminating a nest of curses that has recently cropped up.

It’s simple work, but tedious and exhausting. They eat their fill of ramen that night, at the local place.

It’s been a long time since Gojo has had a conversation with his old pupil.

Megumi has changed, since moving up in years. He’s less high-strung. More sociable (though, not by much). He seems— happier.

Which complicates things, in some ways. Because Gojo could count the number of happy sorcerers on one hand, if there are any at all. Leave it to his protogé to push the envelope.

Part of him wants to ask how, how is it possible to coexist with the never ending troubles they face. How can he give that to everyone? How can he remake the world of sorcerers to let them all have that?

But it’s clear as the conversations wears on that Megumi’s peace is all external. Fraught with contingencies.

His sister is doing well. For the first time in a long time. Megumi has put her up in a cottage in the countryside, nothing but rice farmers and friendly geriatrics for miles in any direction. No place for curses.

“I think she’s… happy,” he says. The ghost of a smile on his lips. “Or, at least she’s not absolutely miserable, anymore.”

There’s a warning on the tip of his tongue. Don’t get too relaxed. Bad things happen, and they’ll keep happening. Your life is about you, and what you can do, and what you must do.

But how could he possibly interrupt this, the only happiness his student has ever known?

Even if it’s bound to collapse like a dying star, eventually.

The most important rule of life Gojo has learned: everything is temporary. Good and bad.

…

He runs into you on the way back through Tokyo, because of course he does. The two of you relish blaming the other for who’s keeping you both tethered, playful arguing about who still has their lesson to learn.

His companion is introduced to you, briefly and poorly, between bickering.

“My former student,” your soulmate coos, “And isn’t he cute?”

That’s the last thing you would call the shadow glowering before you. “And who’s this, sensei?” he prompts.

“A friend,” he says smoothly, without hesitation. “We go way back.”

Megumi leaves the both of you, on his way South to visit Tsumiki.

Your soulmate invites himself to your afternoon plans.

“What have we got cooking today, love bug?”

You barely suppress an eyeroll.

“Sleepless in Seattle,” you say, holding up the dvd you rented for his inspection. “If you’re into this sort of thing.”

“One of my favorites,” he returns, grinning. You can’t tell if he’s lying.

You guess it doesn’t really matter.

The walk to your place is quick, and as you’re unlocking the door to let this relative stranger into your apartment, something occurs to you.

“I don’t even know your name,” you say, a firm hand on the ajar door, keeping him from entering.

He’s peering at you through those dark sunglasses again. Smiling. Playing a game you don’t know the rules to. “Call me Satoru.”

You hesitate. “Is that a first name?”

“Yes,” he says without shame. “Aren’t we friends?”

He catches the answer on your face, a sheepish wince. I didn’t think we were anything at all. You say, “Sure. But what’s your surname?”

His smile turns coy. He pokes the elbow supporting you against the door so it caves, grabbing you just before you fall. He draws you into the apartment with an arm around your shoulder. “Who knows?”

It’s not much. Certainly not the kind of lofty living aspirations you’ve seen on coworkers’ Pinterest boards. But it’s your space, and you’ve made it to your liking. That much is clear to Gojo as he investigates the place.

First and foremost, you are beloved. Your apartment is filled to the brim with the proof of this, nicknacks and souvenirs from friends, a stack of letters on the coffee table, pictures both framed and bare, lining the walls. Tucked between are the things you’ve bought for yourself, gaudy and vibrant, clashing because they’d be impossible to match anything.

He picks items up, turning them this way and that, observing all of the facets and idiosyncrasies. Inviting himself into the space in a way that should be rude, but you just find kind of endearing. Watching such a big man handle your belongings with such care. Like everything he touches is made of glass.

He picks up a loose postcard. The picture is a drawing of a bird, so ugly it almost makes him giddy that this exists at all. He turns it over to find smooth penmanship. A woman’s handwriting, signed Nozomi.

You don’t stop him when you spot him reading it. There’s not much to hide, anyway. It’s generically thoughtful and heartfelt in a way that would only matter to the people involved. Nozomi says she wishes you well, and that she’s happy to see you grow as a person. She’s proud of you. She always will be.

“She was the one who taught me to play shogi,” you say, as he returns the card to its spot, careful to get the placement just right. “Saw me on the street and just… took me in. Said I looked like I needed it. I thought she was crazy. Kept going back because it was kind of funny, at first. But it turned out she was right.”

Gojo nods, sagely. “Through shogi lies the meaning of life.”

You whack him on the arm, snorting. “I needed friends, dumbass,” you tell him. “Although I guess I wouldn’t mind some guidance to get me through the big clownshow.”

You leave him to go make tea. He stays where he is, staring at the postcard. The sight of it, that earnest, ugly little doodle, suddenly makes the back of his neck itch.

When was the last time he’d kept something, just because he wanted it? When has he ever enjoyed a thing except for its function, it’s usefulness? When did anything ever have meaning to him?

He gravitates toward a darker corner, where a small shrine sits on an eye-level shelf. It’s unobtrusive, less tacky than just about anything else in this place. A stick of incense waiting to be lit, a can of grapefruit flavored Fanta left in offering.

You return with the drinks, wait for him to join you on the couch.

He doesn’t ask. You don’t explain.

The two of you watch Sleepless in Seattle. He’s a good movie companion. Funny without being obtrusive. Surprisingly, doesn’t talk through the whole thing, just enough to remind you he’s there.

The two of you shift and move throughout the two hour runtime, until your feet are resting on his lap, his arms draped over your thighs.

As the credits roll and you stretch, he peers down at your toes. He pinches one, between his thumb and pointer, wiggling it. “Cold,” he notes.

“Maybe you’re just stupidly warm,” you return, nudging his thigh with your free foot.

He grabs that one, too, and through a bizarre display of athleticism, tips you bodily into your back, while grabbing a throw blanket from the back of the couch.

He wraps you up in it easily, turning you around as you squirm, laughing, fighting. Finally, he has you swaddle like a baby with your arms trapped against your sides, completely immobile.

Then he gets up and leaves.

…

The incoming first years are strong, but ignorant. One of them, the most promising of the bunch, tells Gojo she’s doing this to make her mother proud.

“She attended Jujutsu Tech, a long time ago,” she says. “But she lost both her legs in a fight. Her technique depended on being nimble; the amputation set her back too many years to recover.”

They’re meeting at a cafe outside Tokyo proper. The days have begun to cool, and this afternoon sings with a pleasant heat. He watches as the girl sits across from him, separating her meal into distinct piles of ingredients.

He can see it in her eyes. Love. So big and deep it looks more like desperation than adoration.

And that can be exploited.

Even in the absence of real enemies, it can get a person killed.

He tells the young sorcerer about another Jujutsu Tech student he taught. How he loved his childhood friend so much it cursed her. And that, in turn, cursed him.

“But it worked out, in the end,” she returns blithely. Gojo cocks his head, smiling inquisitively. “Yuuta Okatsu, right? No use trying to be obscure, sensei, there’s no mistaking Yuuta’s curse.”

“That’s true,” he agrees. “It almost killed him, first, though. Almost killed everyone.”

She hums, considering this. Yuuta’s abilities are legendary, but stories about his time in highschool vary in prolificacy. When he was at JJT, he was just another boy, with another too-big burden placed on his shoulders.

A gaggle of children rushes by, screaming, laughing. Gojo watches them, taking in their bruised knees, their scraped elbows. One of them is wearing a cast on his arm. He still chases after the rest, running recklessly, just as fast.

“Okatsu is a Special Grade, an exceptional specimen of sorcery. There’s very little he can’t do,” he says. “What can you do?”

The student grins. One of her teeth is chipped, almost completely gone. “I’d love to show you, sensei.”

…

Mori invites you to take a trip with him, the semifinals of the season, in Kyoto. It’s strange for a first date, but you’re kind of charmed by it, and by his sincerity as he asks you.

He likes you, he says, and he’d be honored if you’d spend those two days with him.

It’s easy, spending time with him. He’s easy to talk to, easy to be yourself around. He doesn’t push boundaries, or laugh at you.

You sleep in separate rooms, which you tease him for, but are secretly pleased by.

In the end, he wins, taking home a championship cup and a hefty prize sum. The two of you are bubbly about it on the way home. At the Tokyo station, where you’re parting ways, he rests a hand on your shoulder.

You’re almost the same height. All he has to do is lean in, and your lips brush. A polite kiss, no tongue, no spit. It’s pleasant, almost friendly. You feel mildly warm from it, more with the sense that you’re being kissed than with any real lust. But that’s nice, in itself. The control you feel in this situation, over yourself, your emotions.

His expression is pleased as he waves you off, and it’s a good look for him.

You like Mori. You don’t even have to try that hard.

…

You’re wearing black again today.

Who died, he thinks of calling to you when he spots you, stealing your attention in another obnoxious way.

But he doesn’t have to. You turn to look at him, cheeks and lips swollen, eyes red. You’ve been crying.

You come to him, edging forward until you’re toe to toe, and it takes the space of a heartbeat for him to lift a hand, thumb off some of the smeared makeup under your eye.

“Kakigori?” he murmurs.

“Isn’t it too late?” you ask, looking up. The day has gone so cold that the sky has cleared, and the first freckles of stars are emerging.

“Never,” he answers.

It really is too cold for it now that the season has changed in earnest, but he seems to know the one place in Tokyo still serving it. He orders for you both, somehow guessing your go-to flavor. You loiter outside the shop, eating in silence as your fingers go numb.

You always forget the texture of kakigori, between indulgences. How delicate the ice flakes are, how quickly it melts in your mouth.

He’s staring at you the whole time. You wonder how he doesn’t miss his mouth with his own spoon, but the way he can control his body is different from a normal human, you know that much.

You people watch for a bit. It’s a weekday, and this is a shopping district, so not many people are out as night begins to crest.

Eventually you get sick of him staring, so you stare back. Eyes locked as you do miss your mouth occasionally. He doesn’t even laugh at you when it happens, too pleased with your attention to risk losing it.

“Wanna trade?” he asks, but he swaps your cups anyway, without waiting for an answer.

It’s too dark to see the color of the ice in his cup, now, but you recognize the flavor as soon as you take a bite. Your second favorite.

He’s looking at you like he’s taunting you to admit it. Like he’s won, again. But you’re honestly kind of glad for it, that he knows, somehow, what you like.

You finish both portions, still locked in that strange staring contest.

“What are you gonna do now?” he asks, taking the empty containers and tossing them, perfectly, into a nearby trash can.

You take him to a bar, a little hole in the wall you used to go in college when you were flat broke.

You order beer and edamame for you both, and when the server comes back Gojo takes the glass from him, putting it down to the side immediately.

“I can’t drink,” he says amiably.

The polite thing would be to suggest something a different activity, maybe ask an non-intrusive question about it. But you just shrug and grab his pitcher. “I’ll do it for the both of us, then.”

You get pleasantly tipsy. He might enjoy the heat you throw off and your loosened morals if he couldn’t sense the underlying sadness dogging your every move.

You try to entice him into banter, funny, pointless conversation, but he doesn’t bite. Just cuts it off with a pleasant hum, or dead-end agreements.

He won’t even eat the stupid edamame, so you’re stuck consuming the whole plate as he unshells them for you, placing bean after bean into your waiting palm.

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” you say eventually.

“Who said anything about talking?” he returns. “I thought we were just initiating our epoch as drinking buddies.”

“You’re not even drinking,” you say sourly.

You finish your beer. And most of his. The cozy lighting and intimate seating starts to feel suffocating. He’s so close you can see the individual hairs on his head, a color so perfect it must be made up. You’ve dreamed this man into reality, surely.

“It was a wake,” you say, finally. “My friend, the dead one, her family isn’t close. The ones who weren’t invited to the funeral wanted to do something still, though. Hence, wake.”

Gojo hands you another bean. His tone is pragmatic. “Seems complicated.”

“Isn’t everything?”

You chew slowly, thinking about how to tell the story. How to not make your life the punchline of some long-winded joke. How to not make it pitiable, either.

“We were best friends, then a little more, then a little less.” You sigh. “Then she only talked to me when she was fighting with her husband. The last year of her life we barely said more than two sentences to each other.”

Gojo is silent, his gaze intent behind the glasses. You wish he was smiling, still. That you could hide behind the banter and the meaningless jokes.

“They were both markless. It worked out kind of perfectly, for them. Meet-cute and everything.” You take another big swallow of beer, and another. It’s not demure or cute. None of this is. You wish you didn’t care what he was thinking about in this moment. You can’t help it. Any of it. “I would have done anything for her, and she knew that. I cut myself off from everyone just becasue she would get jealous. But she could never get over the fact that I was destined for someone else.”

You give him a sardonic smile. See how that worked out?

You say, “I was her interim, while she waited for someone better. I’m not gonna be that again. No more ‘almosts’.

He slides the glass from your hand, the one that was meant to be his. It’s almost empty.

He lifts it, “No more almosts,” he agrees.

And sure, you’ll cheers to that.

The rest of the night slogs into a blur, after a couple more drinks. You don’t remember the taxi ride home, where he braids your hair, loosens the oppressive buttons on your blouse. Or him carrying you up the stairs of your building. Fishing your keys out of your purse. Tucking you into bed.

Leaving the lights on. Just in case. To keep all the nightmares away, to keep all the boogeymen at bay.

…

He goes to the shogi parlor.

If anyone asked, he would say he was just passing by, it was only a whim.

But no one asks, and he doesn’t have to lie. This has been on his mind for months, ever since the first time you played together.

He figured maybe he’d glean more information about you, just through ambient forces, or something. He didn’t really think it through.

Key intel on your life and history doesn’t just fall into his lap, but he does play a few games against a couple of regulars, and that is enough to learn a few things about you.

What you like, what you’re seeking in this place, why you keep coming back.

The answer, mostly, is companionship. You wanted friends, after everything was said and done. And so you found some.

The last person he plays is a little old woman, who barely comes up to his chest. Her wrists are stalk thin, her hair so wispy, when the sun catches it, it looks like a halo of fire around her head.

He knows, even before the introductions, that this is your friend.

Nozomi’s version of the story, when he prises it from her, is a little bit different than yours.

You’d helped her, years ago, when her dog got off the leash. This was at the very beginning of her ‘ailment’ as she calls it, before she learned to navigate the changes in her body, her abilities.

Nozomi was crying, that day. Watching her dog just dart away, further and further.

“I must have looked like a hysterical old hag,” she scoffs. “No one in their right mind would stop to talk to me. Says a lot about our friend, eh?”

You chased the dog six blocks before you managed to grab it. You brought it back to its owner, and subsequently forgot about the whole ordeal.

“I was just returning the favor,” Nozomi says. “I saw someone in need of help. So I leant a hand.”

Her face is serene as she talks about you. Nearly reverent. Gojo recognizes something in that look, something that fills him with hope and dread in equal measures.

“You take good care of that child,” the old woman warns. “She deserves it.”

…

The next time Mori kisses you, it’s the same kind of vacant pleasure. The pressure, the heat. And a strange turning in your stomach, like you took a turn too hard, too fast.

Maybe you’re just hungry.

…

“Have you ever been in love, Nanamin?”

The question is entirely inappropriate, and poorly timed too. Nanami barely dodges a slash to the head by a rogue curse as Gojo catches him off guard.

The curse is swiftly dispatched, but there are about a hundred more to be dealt with. Nanami had been called today because of the sheer number, not their power.

Gojo decided to tag along, for fun. Mostly, though, he wanted to get away from Jujutsu Tech, and the students. He’s tired of looking at them today.

“I don’t believe this is relevant to the situation at hand,” Nanami drawls. “Nor is it pertinent to our work relationship.”

Gojo draws in close, hindering his colleagues movements and making himself un-ignorable. “Have you ever seen Sleepless in Seattle?”

“Real life isn’t like that, Satoru,” Nanami grunts.

“What about Hana Yori Dango?”

“Do you take all your advice from TV shows?”

With a flick of his wrist, Gojo sends the curse mob reeling into space. Eradicated, instantly.

“Real life is whatever I want it to be,” he says. There’s no smugness in his voice, no self-congratulation. Just awareness so deep, it’s almost weariness.

“You are Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer to ever live,” Nanami says. He pulls a handkerchief from his breast pocket, wipes the blood off his hands. “But I’ve yet to see a cursed technique that can change the heart of a human.”

Gojo grins, tossing an arm around him. “And you said real life’s not like that. You sound like shoujo sizzle reel.”

Nanami turns, leading them back toward the car. “And you sound like an unmitigated ass.”

…

Mori tries to fuck you on the same day you sprain your wrist. Unrelated incidents, but the whole day has you reeling, feeling unlike yourself.

The more you see of Mori, the more you realize your affection is more docile than a lover. You like the way he smiles, his passion, how considerate he is. You like him like a friend.

So when you’re visiting his apartment, expecting tea and a nice conversation, and he pushes you down onto the couch, you’re almost shocked. Of course you should have expected this. You’ve been dating for months now, and he’s been testing the waters lately.

You’d been open to sex, maybe. Not for the passion of it, but because you think it would feel good, with him. You’re okay with it, anyway.

You could not have predicted gagging at the sensation of his hand against your breast.

And — dammit — it’s a soulmate thing, you realize. “Cheating” doesn’t make everyone in a match physically ill, in fact it’s a fairly uncommon side effect. You’re just that unlucky.

He climbs off you immediately, rubbing a soothing hand up and down your back, as you finish dry heaving. He’s not dumb, by any means. He knows exactly what happened. And he knows you well enough to not bullshit you.

“Who is it?” he asks, after you’ve calmed down enough to drink a glass of water. He’s sitting father away from you, now. Not close enough to touch anymore.

“Didn’t work out,” you tell him.

He asks a few more questions, which you answer vaguely. Cruelly avoiding what he really wants to know. Do you love them? Have you been in love with them this whole time?

“I like you,” you tell him instead, earnestly. Placating, but you’re not sure who. “I wanted this to work out.”

He reaches for your hand, a comforting gesture, but pulls up short. Reminded how his very touch repulsed you. “I’m sorry,” he says, not unkindly. “I like you too. I just don’t think this is going to be possible.”

And he’s right. And it hurts that he’s right.

It hurts how he doesn’t deserve you, the burden that you are. The shape of you so unwelcome in this world, nowhere you can fit comfortably without harming someone else.

You stumble home, in the fading winter light, almost drunkenly. In your stupor you trip on a high curb, catch yourself wrong when you fall.

The hospital visit takes up most of the afternoon, as you wait to be seen in a room full of teary-eyed patients, wrist throbbing. In a way, you’re lucky. Too focused on everything going wrong to be present in the misery of this moment.

A sprained wrist, a broken finger, and another fractured. The doctor tapes you up, instructs you to rest for four weeks. Don’t get the splint wet. Try not to move it too much.

No shogi.

You catch a taxi home, no longer trusting your own body. The hurt has begun to sink in now, and you’re desperate to be home, to sleep all this off.

You feel like a martyr as you peel out of your clothes, clumsy, damp with sweat. You throw yourself onto the unmade bed, thinking of how you’ll be alone, now, forever, and on purpose.

How you’ll never let another person suffer your presence, how you’ll keep all the longing and aching bottled up, and aren’t you a good person? Aren’t you kind for not placing your misfortune in anyone else’s hands? Aren’t you?

Evening sinks into full bodied night, and it takes the light with it. You lay there, letting it get dark around you.

How did you deserve this? Any of it? Don’t you try so hard? Aren’t you —- good?

And yet you’re cursed. Always. Destined for it. Fated for it.

You don’t know how he got it, but you can feel Gojo looming at your bedside. You don’t even have the energy to ask questions as he pulls the sheets out from under you, draping them over your hunched body. All the way up, over your head, so you’re a little lump underneath them. Hidden. Safe.

You feel him settle beside you, on top of sheets.

When you peek at him, minutes later, he’s staring at the ceiling, arms folded behind his head, feet hanging off the mattress. Not comfortable. There’s no way a man that size could fit anywhere comfortably. But he’s oddly still as he lays there.

“Rough day?” he asks.

“Rough everyday.”

He hums in answer, almost indifferent, and the response fills you with a boiling kind of anger.

Because you hadn’t blamed him for all of this, the mess of your existence. You’ve been nice enough to shoulder that weight alone.

“I fucking hate my life sometimes,” you say. Bitterly. More bitter than you’ve ever let yourself be, pitying your own circumstances in a way that would have shamed you on any other night.

You’re supposed to be brave, about every unfortunate thing that happens to you. You’re supposed to be better than this.

But just the thought of turning this situation into another punchline makes you want to curl up under the sheets again, never come out.

“You’re doing the best you can,” he tells you. “That’s enough.”

“I hate you.”

“Yeah,” he says, a tragic kind of humor in his voice. “I know.”

He rolls onto his side, one arm snaking around your waist, over the blankets. He’s close enough that you can see his eyes over the rim of his glasses, and they’re shockingly pretty. A color you’ve never seen before, not in real life, and looking straight at you.

“Go to sleep,” he whispers. When you don’t immediately comply, he reaches a hand up and brushes against your eyelids, forcing them to close, chuckling at your scowl. “There’s my good girl.”

He presses his nose against your forehead, breathing softly, rustling the baby hairs around your face. You feel a firmer touch against the bridge of your nose. Lips, warm and gentle.

It doesn’t make you want to vomit.

You hate him.

…

He’s gone by morning. You might have thought you dreamed the whole thing up, but he’d left a paper on your bedside table.

A wikihow article about treating sprains. He must have printed it from your computer. In the bottom corner is a little drawing of him, surrounded by hearts. A phone number underneath it.

You don’t know how he could have figured out you were injured. You’re sure he didn’t see the bandage last night.

Maybe it’s another soulmate affliction, that strange warping of your reality. Does he know that you can’t touch another person with that intent? Does that happen to him, too?

You grab your phone without thinking, open a new text to the number he left. Blind with fury, you send him the middle finger emoji. Six times.

He responds almost instantly. A shiny blue heart, and a grinning cat face.

You turn your phone off. You go back to sleep.

…

He’s back when you wake. You don’t ask how. Just rub the sleep from your eyes and peer at him as he rifles through a convenience store plastic bag.

He doesn’t even have to look at you to know you’re awake, that unsettling sixth sense of his. As soon as you’re lucid enough to understand what he’s saying, he holds up two packets of porridge flavoring. Veggie and Agave. You give him leeway to make whatever, but really you want to test if he can guess your preference again.

He does.

The smell of it fills your apartment, settles over the space in that familiar, cozy way. He brings it to you in a mug, your favorite one, and the whole situation is so disconcerting that when he holds the spoon up to your face you let him feed you without objection.

It’s almost condescending, how he’s doing this for you. You’re down one dominant hand, not a child. But there’s also a strange pleasure in letting him care for you, in seeing the enjoyment he gets out of it himself, like he’s getting away with something, like he’s stealing it.

He’s leaning in after each bite, watching you chew and swallow, your lips folding around the spoon. Creeping closer and closer, until his nose is brushing yours, and he’s not even trying to fit the spoon in the minuscule space between you, just sharing air with you.

“You have pretty eyes,” he murmurs.

You bark out a laugh. “Says you.”

He nuzzles one of your brows, and you let out a noise of disgust, slipping the spoon from his grip to feed yourself.

You make it through one bite before a sudden shock of pain has you dropping it. Only Gojo’s quick reflexes save your sheets.

He places everything aside, takes your injured wrist tenderly in his hands. He turns it so you’re palm up. “Does it hurt?” he says, peering at it like he’d be able to spot it. “Poor baby.”

He leans down, brushes his lips against the edge of the bandage, where it meets your skin. The touch is so delicate it’s barely there. Like you could convince yourself he hadn’t kissed you at all.

He picks up the porridge again, and feeds you until you’re telling him you’re full, and then a little more.

When he asks you what’s on the agenda for the day, you eye him suspiciously.

“Aren’t you, like, super busy all the time?”

“I have time for you.”

I make time for you.

You feel a little guilty, that he’s here with you when he has so little free time. You don’t know what he does, exactly, but you know it’s extraordinary, and important, and keeps him tied up constantly. You wonder if he doesn’t resent you a little for his self imposed care-taking. But then you think about the little chuckles he was letting out as he spoon fed you like a child.

Maybe you really are his first choice.

The truth is, you didn’t have much planned for the day. You’re still in the process of re-establishing your life, becoming an ‘I’ rather than a ‘we’. You only had one place to be today.

You look down at your broken hand, feeling suddenly filled with bitterness. Your non-dominant hand didn’t have the coordination to do something so precise. You could never play like this.

Like always, he knows exactly what you’re thinking. He takes your free hand, linking fingers with you.

“I could do it for you,” he murmurs. “Be your hands.”

So he does. The two of you play against Nozomi, Gojo moving the pieces as you whisper the points into his ear.

He messes with you, a little, of course. Pretending to move the wrong piece until you snap at him, announcing in a stage whisper what your next move is, pretending not to hear you so you have to move closer and closer, until your lips are brushing his ear, and Nozomi is cackling across the board.

Despite the (purposeful) setbacks, you play well. And for the first time in your life, you win a game of shogi.

There are tears in her eyes as Nozomi congratulates you, scrambling up and around the board to throw her shivering arms around you. It agitates your sprain, but you ignore it. You hug her back, as well as you can.

And Gojo watches the whole time, from the side. A pleased, secret smile on his face.

The walk home is cold. He holds your good hand in his, tucking it into his pocket against the bite of the air.

You glance up at him, catch his line of thought immediately. He’s wondering about the old woman. How frail she looks. She can barely stand anymore.

You slip away from him, trailing ahead to press the button for the crosswalk. Your hand is frigid without his wrapped around it.

“She’s dying,” you say conversationally. When he quirks a brow, you elaborate. “Bone cancer. They’ve given her a few months, tops. But she’s a tough old bird, yknow? There’s no factoring for that.”

“But you love her anyway,” he says simply.

“Worrying is a waste of time,” you say simply. “I love her, here and now, because I can.”

You glance at him in time to see the minuscule movement of his swallow. The twitch of his brow.

He’s still impenetrable on the best days, but you’ve learned to read him somewhat. Or maybe he’s just forgetting to keep his guard up around you. Maybe it’s all slipping through, unbidden.

That fills you with a strange sort of tenderness. That someone so big and strong could be failable, that he could be hurt.

You take his hand again.

He lets you.

…

You fall asleep in his arms that night. Curled up on the couch, an episode of Hana Yori Dango whispering on the TV.

And it feels right, this, whatever the two of you share. This strange nebulous bond.

He didn’t want it, in the first place. But now it feels like he could hardly go on without it, your presence in his life so precious he wants to thank you every time you look at him.

Because you are alive, and you are singular. Your good humor, and bad temper, your optimism and self sacrifice. Your humanness. You.

You are good, and you are his. And he never understood just how much he craved those things, how everything in the entire world seems to hinge on how you let him hold you, all trust and faith, pure surrender.

How love is the axis of the universe.

…

You wake up, still in his arms, but in you bed. Your injured arm is cradled safely between both of his. He’d sat you almost upright between his legs to keep any weight off it, and your whole body is leaned against his. You can feel a burgeoning hardness against your ass. You wiggle, testing it.

He groans, nuzzling groggily into the space behind your ear with a content sigh, arms tightening around your belly.

“You’re soft,” he rasps. “So fragile. Makes me a little bit crazy.”

Then he slips out of bed to go make a cup of coffee.

You spend the day watching cheesy romcoms, leading up to Knotting Hill, which according to Gojo isn’t Sleepless in Seattle, but almost as good.

It’s so easy for him to settle you against his chest on the couch again. Like that’s your natural place. His fingers in your hair, lips nibbling at the shell of your ear. You fit so seamlessly together, it just makes sense, all of it, like an inevitability, like the impossible pull of a blackhole.

Gojo does everything for you, while you’re incapacitated. Cooks and cleans and does laundry and tucks you in and patiently undoes the knots in your hair and kisses your okay fingers whenever you bump the broken ones and it hurts. The whole day, he’s at your back and call, even when you can’t say what you want.

It’s overwhelming to the point that you’re nearly in tears when he tucks you both in that night. He draws you into his chest, and you have to suck down a sob, unflatteringly. He lets out a huff of laughter in response. Holds you tighter.

“You’re so nice to me,” you say, burying your face against his chest. So warm, warm enough to keep all your body cozy, always. “You’re scaring me.”

“I know,” he says, against your cheek. His breath warm and warm and warm. All of him is. “I’m sorry. Thank you for letting me be nice to you.”

…

He’s already out of bed when you wake, putting laundry away. A cup of coffee is steaming on the table beside your head.

“You’re leaving?” you murmur, rising. You already know the answer, can feel the restless energy in him.

“For a little while,” he answers. He places the last garment in the closet, before returning to you, sitting beside you on the bed. “There’s some stuff that desperately needs my attention.”

He draws the covers back up around your shoulders, kisses your nose.

“You gonna miss me?” he asks, grinning.

You fist a hand in his shirt, not pushing or pulling. Just holding on. “I like you so much, Satoru. Sometimes I don’t know what to do with myself.”

He cups your cheek. Thumbs at the plump skin of your lower lip, testing the give of it, the plushness.

“I know what to do with you,” he whispers.

Then he’s kissing you. He’s kissing you like it’s a force of will, to keep you here, pliant and open beneath him. Like he’s trying to coax something out of you, get you to yield. Your answering movements are languid, eager. You already have me.

He’s careful with you as he undresses you. Holding onto your bad arm, shielding it against his rough movements as he grips and pulls you into the position he wants.

You think maybe he’s never fucked someone before, the way he’s touching you, feeling you. How he’s moaning into your open mouth every time he discovers something, the soft fat of your thighs, the taper of your waist, how sensitive your nipples are, and your clit.

Everything is exciting and new, when he does it. So good it makes him nearly crazed. Eager to touch all of you at once, to have you. To keep you.

Your soulmark is on your upper rib cage, below your breast, and that is a discovery that takes up long minutes as he traces it, and licks them, the words vulgar and his.

He fucks you like it means something something. Like it’s his own language, each touch significant, every time your eyes meet, fraught with invisible language.

You can’t decipher it.

You can only let it roll over you in a tidal wave, Gojo and his big hands, his unfortunate size. He has to arch his back like a cat to kiss you, which he does, endlessly. Panting into your mouth, tonguing at your lips.

You never thought you’d like being handled, but you think you like the way Gojo does it. Because you like everything about him, even the stuff you hate. And every time he moves it feels like it’s everything you wanted but didn’t know yet, like he’s inventing new ways of bringing heat to your sensitive skin, of taking you higher and higher.

Your peak crests with a gasp, and an answering moan. You feel it radiate from your core, a sudden clarity of pleasure, like clouds clearing, like the sun coming up.

Like he’s got you, as you come down. And he’s not going to let you fall

“I love you,” he groans, wetly, against your bottom lip. “I’m in love with you.”

“Thank god,” you return breathlessly, stroking the damp hair from his face. “I’ve been waiting, cowboy.”

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x y/n #I like to post my fics at the worst times imaginable; happy 5am all :)#and as always: pleases reblog this one gang it almost killed me #guess who just wrote 8k words in one sitting #I feel.....deranged. LIBERATED #>:)

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asherlockstudy · 3 years

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How to do perfect staging: a lesson from Italy

I mentioned at some point I might actually make a post drooling over Italy's Måneskin performance and staging. I was kinda bored to be honest and decided against it but then all those trashy rumours that try to bring the winners down seemed so disgraceful and embarrassing to me that I decided again to do it. Now, the truth is that their performance was a little better in the semi-final introduction act. Perhaps this was due to the anxiety of the Grand Final. This is why I am going to use photos and gifs from that act and perhaps this will show to some that the perfect package might need a little bit of everything, and not just slap your language on the audience's ears with the expectation that this alone is always enough. *Did I make this too personal?*

Anyway, I digress. And I don’t mean that the Grand Final performance wasn’t still the best of the night, I just mean it wasn’t at the same God Tier level as the semifinal one.

Here's why the Italians took advantage of the Dutch stage until its very last millimeter and way more cleverly than any other country.

This is the only act that starts from the back of the stage, where the singer Damiano David waits for us alone.

Even with the rest of the 25 competing countries, this intro makes you forget that you are watching a contest with 26 countries as guests. Unlike anyone else, Italy looks like the host, like this place belongs to them and the frontman waits for you to show you around and possibly drag you to the world of Måneskin. In fact, you almost forget it’s Eurovision - this now looks like a Måneskin concert or, even better, a more private space of theirs with an ominous industrial feel. One of the most impactful things now is the lighting. Take a look at it. Almost all contestants throw all the lights on themselves or on some important prop they have prepared. The Italians are the only ones who chose to just light the stage itself. The simple white lights on the black stage give the impression of depth and it is the only act which shows emphatically the size of the stage. Why this? Well, we already established that in the first seconds the viewers feel they are in a new space belonging exclusively to Måneskin - the lights make us feel that their area is vast and dark and we are about to be drawn to its depths.

Damiano indeed guides us to the front as he sings, where the rest of the band are on the top of a platform. The other members won’t come down and join Damiano until he sings the appropriate verse “Buona sera, signore e signori” (=Good evening, ladies and gentlemen) and accompany it with a theatrical flamboyant bow (that feels very Italian). That’s when, technically introduced to the audience after the official greeting, bassist Victoria de Angelis and guitarist Thomas Raggi come off the platform and join Damiano.

There’s nothing excessive about the visual effects. Only the use of white lights that give the perception of depth and in the background the big shadows of the group’s silhouettes. They are in the front and they cast their shadows in the back; they create to you a feeling of being trapped by them but do you really want to escape?

When the second verse starts, Victoria and Thomas take the paths left and right of the stage and leave Damiano alone. They take even more advantage of the stage and in a typical classic rock band way. These two play with the side cameras but the focus is more on Damiano, whose verse sounds more like a tongue-twister. Since the cameras are rightfully on Damiano, I must now address the elephant in the room. Damiano is particularly attractive. In fact, the whole band is almost mind-bogglingly attractive and they clearly take a lot of care about how exactly they are going to look but Damiano, as the frontman, does especially so. So let’s talk about the outfit. They all have essentially the same outfit, however it is cut differently for each based on the person’s looks and personality. Isn’t it fantastic?

Damiano, who oozes confidence and sex appeal, has accordingly the most “provocative” outfit of the four. His chest and arms are bare so that his many tattoos can be seen. I’ll talk about the other outfits later as they all have their place in the... uh... white lights.

During the second chorus Victoria and Thomas return at the center and after the chorus it is time for the first solo; Victoria’s. The cameras are now on her but the lighting remains modest to accentuate the dark beat of her bass.

Victoria is the only girl of the group and the most dressed of them all - how refreshing! Her outfit is more similar to Thomas but she is buttoned up in the front. How does she wish to underscore her uniqueness as the woman of the band? But of course, with long flamboyant girly sleeves that come to delicious contrast with her aggressive stomping and her wide strides. Both her hairstyle and her outfit is inspired or basically just outright 70′s classic rock look.

It’s time for the bridge of the song right after her solo and Damiano has his attention on her and also draws the viewer’s attention to her some more. This part of the song is lower and softer - in relative terms - that’s why Damiano “chooses” her to sing it to. The lights now turn red, the intensity rises but there’s light flirtatiousness between them, with many smiles to each other and the camera that turns around them as they launch at each other playfully.

Then the song gets darker, more intense, the guitar stronger than the bass and Damiano’s voice turns to a scream. For this part, he turns to his bro, guitarist Thomas and he now draws the attention to him.

He grabs Thomas by the neck in an intense, intimate way (that doesn’t mean sexual, just intimate. His interaction with Victoria wasn’t sexual either). It is clear that through different ways Måneskin want to stress how good and close their relations are and that their singer, who is apparently a show stealer by birth, wants to ensure that they all get equal amount of attention from their audience. I love this.

True enough, nobody is left behind! The last chorus starts with a drums solo and Damiano goes up to the platform to now meet and introduce to us Ethan Torchio. Ethan stands up and his giant shadow is on the now blue background: this is the moment for the - so I hear - somewhat shy drummer to shine in his own aesthetic. The Italians leave none of their assets to fall down and Ethan’s impressive hair rightfully steals the show.

Just like Victoria and Thomas look alike, so do Ethan and Damiano, that’s why their costumes are the most similar. Ethan has a vest that covers him more than Damiano but leaves his arms bare. Because whose else the arms do you need to see if not the drummer’s?

This song has something peculiar because it was not a song originally written for Eurovision; it slows down in the end and does not end on some impressive note from the singer as usual but with the last solo we expect, that of the guitarist, because everything is fair in Måneskin! The focus has to leave Damiano, so now it’s the time for the visual effects to finally catch fire, literally, because nobody is allowed to take their eyes off them! Måneskin use a huge amount of pyro that however feels appropriate for the intense chorus and the ending guitar solo.

Thomas steps up for his solo and I forget we are in 2021. This is the most 70s thing I would ever hope to see.

In a hell of pyro, Thomas looks like he was tranferred right from a 70s rock ‘n roll concert. His outfit would be gladly taken by Keith Richards of the Rolling Stones. The unbuttoned jacket with this boho tie, such a classic 70s fashion touch. His haircut and even his FACE are the epitome of the 70s - what an ending sequence!

But hey we reached the end and this is Eurovision, the song slows down dangerously. Like I said, the Italians forbid us to get distracted. The attention must return to Damiano ASAP. Damiano says one last line and takes the audience with him to the very end with a death drop.

There you have it. Måneskin had me holding my breath for the full three minutes and I did not want to take my eyes off my TV. There are countless shows that are awesome - in this very Eurovision as well - but I was impressed by how they seemed to have found the perfect balance for everything in every single moment. They found the perfect stage concept for the song, they relied on visual effects only when they needed them and they stressed every twist and turn of their sound with a perfectly fitting move or interaction. They also all effortlessly could hold your attention and they made sure that they all would, with members often helping bring out other members. This performance was beautiful and, above all, clever which is why it was undoubtedly the worthiest of the win.

#eurovision #eurovision 2021 #esc 2021 #eurovision song contest #italy #italy 2021 #maneskin #damiano david #victoria de angelis #ethan torchio #thomas raggi #music #songs #zitti e buoni #flashing tw #more

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tarotnoob · 2 years

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PAC: A message from your inner child

Choose a '90s icon and scroll for message.

Pile 1

Do you remember the dream that you used to have as a child? Do you remember what you wanted to be or the person that you wanted to be like? At what point did you give up on the stream or think that it was no longer within your reach?

I think we can do it anything we want as long as we're not afraid to go for it. Instead of thinking like how you were as a child and thinking anything was possible, now all you see are obstacles or excuses for why it could be impossible. Being an adult doesn't mean that you are bound to logic or telling yourself that it's not realistic or that it's too late. If we want it bad enough, we can get it. Anything we dream of, we can manifest. The only thing that stands in the way of this is the fear of taking a first step or the fear of failure. But the only way that we will fail is if we never take a step forward.

We can be successful if you just believe in us again and start thinking the way you used to as a kid. No dream is too big or too silly no matter what age you are. As long as you believe in it, life will unfold exactly how you want it to if you just believe in us again.

It feels like it's been a while since we've had a conversation. You always have a lot of barriers up. Sometimes it feels like you hide me away because I can remind you of what we haven't accomplished yet. Maybe you're worried about all the ways that certain choices can go wrong or certain dreams you've had can fall apart. So it's easier to forget that I am here or it's easy to forget old dreams and consider them delusional or fantasies only. But I'm right here where I have always been if you're willing to get in touch with me again.

I feel like I'm stuck behind bars while things around you sometimes fall apart. I can help you if you just ask. You're never alone because I'm always right here. Even if you don't want to see me. I'm always watching what you do and I really want to help and be there for you.

You seem to be worried about change. You seem to be anxious when it comes to starting new phases. You don't have to be anxious. As long as you follow your heart and what makes you happy, you'll be able to know what direction to follow in order to achieve your dream.

The best way to take care of me or to help me heal after a long time of neglect, is to go with it. You need to sit with your feelings. You need to get in touch with your intuition. The next time you hear a voice, that will be me trying to help you find your way back onto the right path. I want you to follow whatever path makes you happy and brings you love and joy. Whatever path that makes you feel the most creative and most intense with your spiritual self.

Imagine what might happen if we no longer permitted fear to control our choices but allowed possibility to be our guide and unfolded freely.

Don't give up on your dream. Don't try to distance yourself from me. I'm part of what will guide you in the right direction. Instead of ignoring me, embrace me and believe in me because I believe in you.

---

Pile 2

Hey, it's okay to slow down and take a break. Sometimes the best way to recharge is to take some time for yourself. You've already been giving so much for a long time, it's time to give back to yourself. And the best way to give back to yourself and to your inner child is by knowing when it's time to take a time out.

Even when things don't work out the way they want to, there's always other doors being open. But when you focus on the past or what didn't work out, you tend to forget about all of the potential pathways that are still open to you. Whether you've been working hard or if something you wanted didn't work out, that doesn't say anything about you but it does mean that you can take some time to process your next step.

Sometimes the path to what we want to do isn't always clear cut and idealistic. Some people think that dreams and goals are easy to achieve but the truth is you still have to put a lot of effort into getting what you want. Sometimes doors will open and sometimes they will close, but it's all working out the way that it's supposed to. But at times it's difficult to see it that way.

Your inner child wants you to know that you are strong. And that taking a break doesn't mean in any way that you were weak. Sometimes you have to stop and go inward in order to readjust the balance of your energy. If you give too much, you will start to deplete your energy. You withdraw in order to gain that back so that you can continue giving to yourself or others. Your inner child wants you to know that life is always going to be about finding balance. If you are in touch with your inner child, you will know when you need to restore your self. You have a significant purpose in this life. So in order for you to get there, you have to do your best to keep taking care of yourself. And that includes knowing the best time to rest so that you can be in a position to receive. You shouldn't have to chase at this time. You've done everything that you need to, now it's about sitting and waiting for everything to work out around you. Even when it feels like there are decisions that you still need to make, just wait. Imagine if you simply said I don't have to worry about all of this right now when I can just let it all work out on its own and then when it's ready to happen, it will come to me. Those people will come to me. Those people will take care of their own issues for now. I don't have to be in control all of the time. I don't have to be the one to do everything. Sometimes other people can take the lead. Sometimes other people can solve their own problems.

When the time is right to do anything, you will know and it will come to you.

The best way to heal your inner child is to be silent and listen to what they have to say. They're already talking to you. If you're constantly going and never sit with your feelings or your most private thoughts, if all you do is tasks to keep yourself busy and your mind from thinking certain things, you're blocking out your inner child.

If you want to get in touch, all you need to do is listen. Listen to your intuition, listen to your body, and from that you should know what to do and when you need to rest and when you need to dive into the action of doing. Right now, you don't need to be doing anything except taking time out to restore yourself, to offer yourself time to relax, to offer yourself time to heal, to give yourself the knowledge that you don't have to do everything all the time and be everything to everyone. It's okay to make yourself the priority.

There will always be a time in life when what is truly meant to be for you will practically drop in your lap. But imagine how difficult that would be to deliver if you're always in motion. Even if you don't want to, trust me. Your inner child wouldn't steer you wrong.

---

Pile 3

Your inner child wants you to know that you are a lot stronger than you even realize. You can expect some kind of emotional breakthrough, psychological breakthrough, or even an unexpected opportunity. You don't realize how talented and special you are. But, soon you will see. There's nothing wrong with being confident or believing in your ability. You also don't have to dim your light so that others can shine. In fact, if we were all in alignment, we would all only worry about shining our brightest without comparing ourselves to other people.

You have been doing the work and building up from the inside so that the next cycle, you will be at the strongest point of spirituality that you have been in yet. You know how to use your intuition, you know when it's time to take a rest and listen to your body in order to restore so that you can be at your peak. You know how to cut cords with people who drain your energy. You know everything you need to know about how to protect your energy and the best way to walk a path that is in alignment with your purpose.

Basically, you have all of the tools and now you are ready to go out there and apply them. Even if you didn't feel like it as a kid or even if you lost touch with your inner child along the way, you have definitely reconnected with them. Maybe it's been a long time since you felt confident about yourself, but you're ready to come out of the cave.

You can get in touch with your inner child by standing your ground and standing up for what you believe in as well as standing up for yourself. You are all you need to determine what is best for you and not anybody else.

Your inner child wants you to receive the message that you are fully capable of taking care of yourself, of achieving your own personal success and independence. That you deserve to cherish yourself and have days where you splurge. That self-care is always going to be super important because you need to remember that you should always put yourself first. There's nothing selfish about that. Your inner child wants what is best for you because your inner child is you.

You can continue to heal your inner child by accepting this new transformation where you will be tested or you will be put into situations where you need to apply your spiritual skills and tools. By continuing to let go of any fear associated with change, to let go of any past negative habits that would keep you from sharing your life with the world. And also realize that you don't have to be the same person throughout life. It doesn't make you fake if you change. It doesn't make you fickle. It's called growth. You are at an important moment where you are transforming and changing because of the work you've done. You should be celebrating. Now's the time to get excited for this change as opposed to fearing it.

Your inner child wants you to know that this is absolutely the best time to tell yourself how awesome you are, how talented you are, how brave, how smart, and how you deserve everything. You don't need to listen to anybody else but the voice inside you, which includes your inner child who will always be your biggest cheerleader. You've got this.

#tarot #pick a card #inner child #spirituality #astrology #spiritual advice #inner wounds

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sopebubbles · 2 years

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Chapter One

Summary: How many men will it take to save you? To be honest, you've gotten pretty used to saving yourself. Even though you're far from a delicate thing, Los Angeles is a dangerous place you can't seem to escape no matter how hard you try. The top 7 members of Bangtan should never have crossed your path, but they soon find they'd do just about anything to help you escape your past and make it safe for you to stay. But will you?

Genre: mafia au, poly ot7, angst, some smut, honestly a lot more fluff than i expected, POC reader/oc

A/N [very important please read]: This story takes place in LA. Reader (AKA Val) is a Mexican national. The members are part of a Korean gang operating in LA known as Bangtan. There's some Spanish thrown in here or there but I think context explains most of it. Dialogue in italics indicates that the speaker is using either Spanish or Korean in order to exclude some of those present while talking to others. Another important thing to note about the reader is that although I typically try to describe the character's body as little as possible to be inclusive, this character has very specific physical traits related to her biography, so just be aware of that. I reall hope you enjoy reading it. I LOVE interacting with the readers so please let me know what you think about the characters, theories, my use of commas, whatever. 💜

Chapter warnings: cursing (as always, but this time in Spanish, too!), mentions of sex, jimin's a hoe, both Tae and reader are orphans so yeah, alcohol

Word count: 6.6k

Masterlist | next->

Taehyung left Namjoon's office feeling rather satisfied. Tonight had been an easy night, smooth and according to plan. He received the shipment at the docks, everything in order and two grand to pad his pockets. After reporting to his boss, the rest of the summer night was wide open and hot with possibilities.

There wasn't a thing Taehyung didn't love about his life. And why should he? He had it all. Incredible good looks, money, and power. And if he had to commit a few crimes to keep it that way, what did he care? It was the only life he'd ever known or wanted, to be part of the Bangtan gang that ran LA's Koreatown, among other things.

Taehyung walked away from the back office, out to the public space on the second floor. Jimin was waiting for him, but they'd both agreed they were looking for something—or someone—else tonight, though a threesome didn't sound like a bad idea, if they agreed on someone. Taehyung met him at the edge of the second story that only extended through half of the club, giving him a view of the large dance floor in the main room below. He gripped the railing and scanned the space below, waiting for something unknown to catch his eye.

And that something was you.

In the center of the dance floor you were almost impossible to miss. The light beige of your dress contrasted beautifully where it clung against your warm tawny skin. The fringe of your short skirt danced in time with your long black hair as you moved your body to the loud club music. Even from far away, Taehyung could tell your body was fit, but curvy in all the best ways, giving you a beautiful figure. The thought of what you might feel like, how you would fit in his hands transfixed him for an immeasurable amount of time. The only thing that jogged him from his fantasies was your eyes when they looked up and met his. An intoxicating smile spread across your lips before you looked down shyly and giggled. He needed to know what that sounded like.

The song you were dancing to ended and he watched your friend grab you by the hand, pulling you off the dance floor. If you were planning to leave, Taehyung needed to talk to you first, and that instinct got his feet moving quickly. He bumped into a few people on his way down the stairs because his eyes refused to leave you, and he only slowed when he realized you were just going to the bar and not out of Club Seoul. With Jimin following, an amused laugh on his lips, Taehyung made a beeline for the bar.

"Hello," he greeted with a smile when he sidled up beside you at the bar.

Your dark chocolate eyes flashed wide for a moment before you returned his smile. "Hi."

"I saw you dancing." Taehyung leaned his elbow on the bar in front of you.

"I saw you see me," you replied. You turned to your friend, and cringed, but if you were awkward he didn't notice, desperate just to have you looking at him again. Taehyung was used to having girls be shy in front of him, frequently stunned into spontaneous mutism by his uncommon good looks, but right now all he was thinking about was you.

"Can I get you a drink?" He asked when you looked back up at his face.

You pointed to the bar, where a bartender was pouring out two shots for you and the other girl. "We already have some."

"Two more, please, Doyun. And leave the bottle." The man behind the bar did as Taehyung instructed and then went to get the waters you had asked for.

"You come here a lot?" You asked, noticing the familiar way he spoke with Doyun.

"I practically live here," Taehyung replied as he passed one of the tequila shots to Jimin. He leaned in closer as the music seemed to get louder. "Maybe you'd like to come up to our VIP room." His eyes shifted from you up to the second floor and you felt your cheeks heat. You hadn't even taken your shot yet.

"I don't even know your name!" You yelled back over the music.

"I'm Tae!" He flashed you his beautiful smile. "It's nice to meet you-?"

"Val!"

Taehyung clinked his shot glass against yours. "Cheers, Val!" He lifted the glass to his lips and the three of you did the same.

"So, Val, what do you say?" His offer still hung in the air around you.

You looked nervously between Tae and your friend, but she nudged your back. "Can I bring my friend?"

Taehyung nodded happily. "Of course! Follow Jimin!" He pointed to the smaller man beside him, and he led the way toward the stairs while Taehyung grabbed the bottle of tequila off the counter and walked behind you. He shamelessly kept his eyes glued to your round ass as you walked up the stairs behind your two friends.

Jimin led you into a comfortably furnished room with glass tables and soft red couches. You were taller than Jimin with your wedges on, but your smaller friend looked just the right size beside him when they sat together on one of the couches, leaving you to sit next to Taehyung.

Jimin smiled at her and then looked over at Taehyung. "They're pretty. Good choice."

"I'm not sharing." Taehyung scowled at Jimin as you shared a confused look with your friend, neither of you understanding their Korean. "That's Jimin. He speaks English. He just forgot his manners," the taller man explained with a pointed look.

Jimin chuckled beautifully, a stunning smile lighting up his face. "I'm sorry."

Taehyung turned his eyes from the other man to study your face. "So, Val, where are you from?"

Jimin's accent was thicker than Taehyung's, which was barely there. It was little more than something slightly off about the way his mouth wrapped around certain sounds, the sort of accent one gained when learning a second language as a young child. Jimin's was more like your own, one gained in adolescence.

You looked around as if you were cautious about speaking, but decided it was okay. "I'm from Mexico."

"That's cool!" Taehyung responded with an enthusiastic smile and threw his arm over the back of the couch, moving a few inches closer to you. "I went to Cancun last year with my boss. Have you been?"

You shook your head, holding back a smile. "I bet it's beautiful."

"It is. You'd look even more beautiful there," Taehyung mused, making Jimin's chest bubble with his musical laughter.

"I think we need more shots if we're going to listen to this…"

"Mariana," the girl by Jimin's side told him.

"Mariana," Jimin repeated with a playful tap of his finger under her chin, then he turned to pour out four more shots. You all took them before Taehyung drew your attention back to him, firing off another question before you had the chance.

"Are you just visiting?"

Mariana answered for you, but she was clearly talking to Jimin while the two of them eye fucked each other. "No, we live close by." Jimin hummed as she touched his arm. You rolled your eyes and looked back at Tae.

"You live in Koreatown?"

"Yeah, we both work at Little Bar." You looked over at your roommate but she was fully ignoring the two of you now, talking in whispers with Jimin before he poured them each another shot.

"That little hole in the wall?" You nodded. "Damn. You should get a job here. You'd get much better tips." He winked and you giggled, a happy sound to his ears.

"We do alright. It's lowkey but we don't get that many tourists. The pay is alright and the hours aren't bad."

Taehyung nodded. "Are you a student?" He asked, thinking you couldn't be much more than twenty-one.

You hummed and continued answering Taehyung's barrage of questions while Jimin and Mariana got closer and closer. Less than fifteen minutes later, the two of them were making out on the couch, and you and Tae were trying your best to ignore them.

"So, you live close?" Jimin asked when he broke apart for air, perhaps a bit louder than he really intended.

"Yeah, let's get out of here. Val?" Mariana stood and looked down at you.

"Yeah, sure," you agreed a little reluctantly. "Tae, it was–"

"I can drive you," he offered hopefully.

"Oh it's really not that far, just a few blocks."

"That's okay. It will save me the walk back." He beamed his smile down at you.

It seemed to take you a moment to respond and Taehyung wondered if it was the shots or his smile that dazed you. "Um, you've been drinking."

"Just what I had with you. I'll be fine. And it's not far right?" He pushed.

"Aish. Just let him show you his car," Jimin smirked and began walking from the room, putting the conversation to rest.

Taehyung had gone home after finishing his job for the night to get Jimin and switch his company car for his personal one, a sleek 1966 red mustang convertible in perfect condition. He was thrilled to see that you looked at least somewhat impressed when he led you to see his prized possession.

"Hop in," he encouraged you. You glanced back at the other couple, already clinging to each other. "Let them take the back seat and ignore them," he shrugged.

You smiled and slipped into the passenger seat while Jimin helped Mariana into the back by lifting her over the side of the car, making her squeal gleefully before he jumped in with her. Once everyone was settled, Tae pulled out of his spot right in front of the club and followed your directions to your apartment complex. It really was so close you didn't have time for any more conversation than that, but you could hear kissing sounds from behind you and it made you a little red. Taehyung had barely come to a stop before Jimin was jumping out of the car and bringing Mariana with him.

"Quédate, Valentina," your roommate said firmly just as you were reaching for the door handle. You stopped your movement and tried not to sigh.

"I'll call you to come get me later," Jimin told Tae at the same time, sending him a wink. Then the two rushed toward the gate to the courtyard.

"What did she say?" Taehyung asked as you fidgeted in your seat while you watched them go up the stairs to your apartment.

"She told me to stay, but don't worry once they get inside I'll just go sit in the courtyard."

"Or you can stay with me," he offered, just as shyly as you had spoken. He wasn't sure why you made him nervous, maybe he was just feeding off the energy you were giving him. He wasn't usually this shy and awkward with women.

"Oh, you don't have to entertain me."

He blew you off, pushing air through his teeth. "It would be my pleasure. Besides, they're gonna be a while."

"How do you know?" You followed his gaze up to your apartment door where they were finally walking in.

"Because Jimin makes it last forever."

"How do you know?" You repeated innocently.

"Jimin and I are kind of together. I mean, we sleep together. Sometimes," he admitted but wished he'd kept his mouth shut, in case it freaked you out.

You sputtered for a moment, not quite sure how to respond to that information. "But he—are you upset?" You finally asked, brown cheeks turning red, although it was hard to tell in the darkness.

"No. I mean, it's not a big deal. We're both bi and we're open. We agreed to look for other partners tonight, and he only found Mariana because I picked you so…" he trailed off as your eyes went wide.

"You picked me?" Your voice rose an octave.

"I–no–I…wait!" He stumbled frantically over his thoughts trying to find the right thing to say.

"I'm not-" you were clearly equally at a loss for words.

"I didn't mean like that. Just, I noticed you first and it just so happened that Jimin is the one getting laid but-"

"I'm not gonna fuck you!" You interrupted.

Taehyung chuckled. "You sure? The back seat is very spacious."

You stared at him for a moment before laughing genuinely and he sighed in relief that you knew he was joking.

"I'm sorry. I'm just not that…casual," you said timidly. "I know it's weird but…"

"No. It's fine. Honestly. I shouldn't have assumed." His voice is gentler than it had been earlier in the evening, soft and deep now that he wasn't trying to talk over music. It allowed him to feel more open.

Letting the information sink in, Taehyung found he liked your innocence, how soft and shy you were. It was a change from the women he usually met, and the men too. Maybe it was just a corruption kink but he wanted to know what it would be like to break you out of that shell and make you his.

"Are you a virgin?" He asked abruptly. You choked on your spit, too surprised by the question to be able to give an answer before Taehyung tried to fix things. "I'm sorry. That was a stupid question. Forget that I asked! Forget I said anything. Um…are you hungry?"

You took a deep breath before answering. "I am a little. But you don't–"

"Do you like arcades?"

"I- I've never been to one," you shrugged.

Taehyung smiled and shifted into drive, pulling away from the curb. "I know just the place. I think you'll like it."

He turned up the radio and you leaned on your elbow against the car door, letting the wind flow through your hair as he drove you through familiar streets. He looked over at you frequently, catching glimpses of your face when you passed under street lights. He couldn't tell at all what you were thinking, and that only made him want to know more.

Taehyung parked outside a pub with arcade games inside. He didn't make it to your side in time to open your car door but he held the door of the restaurant open for you like a gentleman.

"You like burgers?" He asked when you were both inside. And you nodded quietly. "This place has the best. Go pick a table and I'll order for us. You want a beer?" You nodded again, watching his smile grow boxy before he turned to step up to the counter and then you went to find a table near the back wall.

Taehyung placed your order and found you once he had your beers. He sat at a ninety degree angle to you at the four top table and sipped his beer in a comfortable silence while he tried to think of something to say. He'd been carrying the conversation for most of the night and you were both starting to feel a little self-conscious about it.

"Are you from LA?" You finally asked, after a couple of minutes had passed.

"I've lived here most of my life. But I was born in Singapore."

"Like crazy rich Asians," you blurted out before you slapped a hand over your mouth and mumbled 'sorry.'

Taehyung laughed loudly. "Yeah, just like that. My parents were Korean, though," Tae explained.

"Were?" You repeated softly, and he nodded.

"They died when I was five, so I moved here to live with my godfather."

You gave him a weak smile under your wide sympathetic eyes and touched your fingertips gently to the back of his hand on the table. "I– I lost my parents when I was young too. I don't remember my mother. And my dad died when I was fifteen."

"Before or after you came here?" He wondered.

"Before."

"Then you came all alone, just like me?" You nodded. A heavy silence hung in the air for a moment while you both drank. "Your roommate called you Valentina?"

"Yeah."

"That's pretty. Sweet. It suits you." Your cheeks darkened at his compliment and your eyes flashed with a strange emotion, something close to satisfaction before it disappeared.

"Is Tae short for something?"

He licked the beer off his lip before he answered with a smile. "Taehyung." He kept smiling as you did your best to get your mouth the syllables. He broke it down for you bit by bit, but the nuance eluded you. "I like Tae just fine," he assured you.

You continued to share mundane details about your lives until the food came, taking a little less once you started eating. Taehyung watched each of your features shift as you talked, trying to parse out the signature of each emotion as they crossed your face. He listened patiently, trying to decipher some of your words or waiting for you to find the right one, amused even when your Spanish slipped into a phrase uninvited.

"Do you know how to drive?" Taehyung asked once you'd both finished eating.

"No," you admitted, and he noted the little bit of terror in your eyes.

"That's okay. Let's see how much stuff you can hit," he suggested cheekily, pointing to the game in the arcade room next door. You agreed eagerly and followed him.

It turned out you could hit a lot of stuff. But those games were always much harder than actual driving and in your second race you beat Taehyung by a hair. He got more and more excited as the competitive nature he shared with you came out of you more and more with each game you played. You were both good sports about it though, evenly matched, both winning and losing until you'd played every game in the arcade and it was closing time. Just as you were leaving the bar with light heads and lighter hearts, Taehyung's phone rang.

"Come get me!" Jimin started before Taehyung even said hello.

"Yah! I'll be there in a little bit," he replied and hung up. "Let's get you home," he said to you, opening the door this time.

He knew Jimin would be annoyed if he took a long time, but he could walk to Club Seoul and get a ride from someone there if he was really in a rush. Taehyung wasn't in a hurry for his night with you to end and he drove deliberately slowly back to your part of town. Halfway there, he got the courage to reach one long arm over, just brushing his thin fingers against yours where they rested on the bench before yours twiched toward him, and he laced them with a blissful smile. When he finally pulled up in front of your building, Jimin was standing with his arms crossed, tapping his foot in annoyance. You placed your hand on the handle, but Taehyung tugged on the one he still held.

"Wait. Um–" You looked at him with your big eyes and he almost lost his words. "Are you free tomorrow? I'd like to take you out again."

You frowned at him. "I work every night this week. Maybe next week," you added when his face fell.

"What time do you work tomorrow?" He pushed.

"I start at 5."

"Then I'll pick you up at noon, and we'll go have some fun. Dress comfortably," he instructed without bothering to wait for your response.

"Okay," you smiled, and he finally released you. You left the door open so that Jimin could take your spot, and Taehyung waited until you were inside the gate to pull away.

"Was she good? What do you have that dopey grin on your face for?" Jimin teased.

"No. We didn't have sex," Taehyung admitted.

Jimin let out a disbelieving laugh. "What?"

"Jimin, I think I'm falling in love."

Jimin wove his fingers into the hair at the back of Taehyung's head and tugged gently. "Aish, Taehyung-ah. Just drive." No sooner had Taehyung pulled away from the curb than Jimin's phone began to ring. "It's Namjoon hyung," Jimin informed the driver after fishing his phone out of his pocket. "Bet you twenty bucks he needs us to drive him home," Jimin quipped just before answering and putting the phone on speaker. "Hey, boss."

"Are you with Taehyung?"

"Yeah, we're just-"

"Come pick me up at the club." Namjoon's voice was firm, an angry edge in his tone, not a drunken lilt like they had expected.

"What's going on?" Taehyung asked as he sped up.

"There was a break-in at the warehouse."

"We're right around the corner," Tae told him as he made the turn. He didn't even have time to put the car in park before Namjoon got in and they were driving again.

"A bit ostentatious for business, Taehyung," Namjoon commented as he settled into the back seat.

"Sorry, hyung. I thought I was off the clock."

Namjoon made a deep, dissatisfied sound in his chest. "It's fine. Just drive carefully. Don't need to draw any attention to ourselves."

"Triads?" Jimin asked, turning over his shoulder. The boss hummed an affirmation.

"Getting pretty fucking bold," Taehyung grumbled as he scanned the streets, making sure he wasn't breaking any traffic laws.

Namjoon's jaw flexed as he ran his thumb over the cool steel of his handgun. "We'll just have to teach them a lesson they'll remember."

Normally your mind was empty while you worked out, lifting weights in an almost meditative state, but today your mind was filled with Taehyung. His perfect dark hair you were sure would be angel soft if you ran your fingers through it. His goofy, boxy grin you would try anything just to see. It was just a shame that practically everything you told him was a lie.

It wasn't him. You lied to everyone. It was just second nature now, the way the name Valentina rolled off your tongue as if it had always been yours and not just for the last two years. There were three Valentinas in your class in elementary school. You thought it sounded like the name of someone who nice things happened to. Not someone like you.

Someone like Taehyung, or so you thought. Maybe it was the fact that you were so wrapped up in your own little lies that you missed the obvious signs of who he really was. But those would come later. Today he was just the cute boy you'd met yesterday, who was going to pick you up in—oh shit you were going to be late.

You rushed home from the gym to shower and clean your body of sweat, to make sure you smelled fresh and perfect, the way Taehyung should see you. When you got out of the shower you dried off and dressed quickly in a pair of jean shorts and a loose t-shirt. You stuck your head out the front door to see him leaning against his car in light slacks and thin, silky, flower patterned shirt, sunglasses covering his eyes. You tiptoes onto the landing to call out to him.

"Tae!" He looked up at you from whatever thoughts he was lost in. "I'm sorry, I'm running a little late. Give me five minutes?"

You couldn't see his eyes, but his lips spread into a giddy smile. "Take your time, baby. I'll wait all day."

You smiled back at him and skipped back into the apartment. You would invite him in, but the place you shared with Mariana was really a one bedroom apartment she had shared with her ex and was desperately seeking a roommate for when you showed up, equally desperate for a place to live, so you'd accepted the living room that served as your bedroom. You changed your t-shirt to one that was a little nicer and tried to get as much water as possible from your hair with a towel since the blow dryer would just make you hot on an already hot day. After dragging a brush through your damp strands and slipping into sandals you were ready to go.

"I'm so sorry," you apologized as you skipped down the metal steps toward the gate. "I was at the gym and I completely lost track of time."

Taehyung smiled as he scanned your body up and down. "That's okay. You're worth the wait." Your cheeks darkened as you waited for him to move away from the car so you could get in, but he was still admiring your body. Although you were slightly more covered than the night before, he was taking advantage of the daylight to get a good look at your body. After a moment you cleared your throat to get his attention.

"Shit." Some mixture of a cough and a laugh came through his throat as he realized he was caught. "Sorry, you just look so good." He got off the car and opened your door.

You whispered a thank you as you sat in the passenger seat and waited for him to walk to his side. "When are we going?" You asked after he started the engine.

"Santa Monica pier. I wanna see what other games I can beat you at." He smirked as he pulled into the street.

"In your dreams," you laughed as he drove away too fast.

"As long as you're there, it will be," he grinned and you both laughed at his cheesiness.

At the pier, Taehyung bought you both wristbands so you could go on every ride after you assured him you weren't scared. In between, you stopped at practically every carnival game, trying to best each other as much as you tried to win the prizes. Taehyung was better than you at shooting games, but you beat him at darts. You could both throw balls and bean bags equally well, but neither of you were good at basketball, and you agreed no one could win ring toss games. Between the two of you, you won too many prizes for you to carry, and when you insisted to Tae that you couldn’t take them all home, you watched with a warm heart as he handed out your smaller toys to little kids as you walked up and down the pier. You only kept the large teddy bear that he won for you and held it close to your chest.

You saved the ferris wheel for last, and as you stood in line to get on, you knew exactly what you liked best about Taehyung. His carefree spirit brought out your inner child, one you would've sworn you didn't have, since you'd barely had a childhood at all. He allowed her to walk in the golden sunlight that danced in his tan skin and feel the breeze that whipped up his thick, dark hair. Taehyung made you feel what you'd always wanted: an unquestionable freedom.

As you first approached the top you both sat quietly, though Taehyung slipped his hand into yours as he had grown more and more comfortable doing throughout the afternoon. He watched your face as you looked out at the ocean.

"Qué hermosa," you whispered and he didn't need to know what you said to know what you meant. He brushed back the strands of hair that the wind whipped across your face and left his hand cupping your cheek.

"It's prettier in the evening, but I think it's still pretty romantic now," he murmured, his thumb stroking across your cheek. You watched his eyes flicker to your lips and found yourself doing the same. Closing your eyes as he leaned in, you waited for his kiss. It was chaste, soft and gentle, everything Taehyung was to you. It only lasted a moment but your heart swelled so much you couldn't help feeling satisfied, with the hope you'd do it many more times. He kissed you a couple more times before you settled into his side and rested your head against his shoulder until your ride ended.

"Oh, I guess we better go," he sighed when he looked at his phone. You'd be cutting it close for work.

"It's alright, just take me straight to the bar," you told him as he took your hand and hurried you to the car.

You couldn't seem to get the smile off your face as he drove too fast through the city streets, arriving outside your bar with a couple minutes to spare—minutes he would fill with more kisses after he dragged you closer to him on the bench. He started off softly at first before his teeth gently pulled at your bottom lip, prying them apart so he could slip between your lips, catching just the tip of your tongue with his own. You gripped the back of his neck with both hands and kissed him deeper, pushing your tongue against his as you melted into his arms.

"I could kiss you all night," he mumbled against your mouth. You smiled as you pulled away.

"Not this night," you reminded him, trying to create a little distance between you, but he just tightened his arms around your waist and pecked your lips again before he released you.

"What about your new friend?" He asked, tilting his head toward the oversized bear in the back seat.

"Maybe you can keep him for a little while, and give him back to me later."

"I'll bring him back to you tonight, when I come pick you up. What time do you get off?"

"Two a.m., but…" You looked at him dubiously and he shook his head.

"I'm not trying to sleep with you. But he should. I just want to make sure you get home safe." After a moment of thought, you nodded. It wasn't like you could stop him from showing up if he wanted to anyway. You pecked his lips one more time before getting out of the car. "One last thing," he pleaded, leaning dramatically over the front seat.

"What?"

"Give me your number," he asked, handing you his phone. You put your number in quickly before tossing it back to him.

"I gotta go!" You called before you disappeared inside the bar.

"How was Prince Charming?" Mariana asked sarcastically as you slipped behind the counter, hurrying into the back room to put away your purse and change into the tank top you wore for work. You adjusted your bra to push up your breasts so they showed better in the low cut top. You slid on some lip gloss and put your hair up before checking yourself out in the mirror to go out.

You'd give you a tip if you had any cash to spare.

You did your best to avoid your friend's gaze as you started moving around behind the bar. But of course she wouldn't let you off that easily. There weren't very many people in right now, just a few tables and one regular sitting at the bar.

"You let him fuck you yet?" Mariana grinned.

"Oh my god, no!" You hissed back.

"Why not?"

"Because maybe he doesn't just want me to warm his cock."

Mariana scoffed. "Why would I want a man to do anything other than warm his cock in me? What else would I need him for."

"Tae just isn't like that, okay?"

She made another dismissive sound. "If he's anything like his friend Jimin, I doubt it."

"Well, then maybe I'm just not like that. And maybe he's being respectful."

Mariana looked at you doubtfully and clicked her tongue. "You need to lighten up and live a little. It's just sex."

You snatched a towel from her to dry the glasses you'd just rinsed. "I had the time of my life today, so I think I'm doing just fine." And the easy smile you wore was hard to argue with.

It wasn't as if you were intentionally lying about being a virgin. You hadn't actually answered Taehyung's question before he walked it back. And any assumptions Mariana made based on the fact that you hadn't slept with anyone since you'd known her were made up in her own head. But just because you weren't a virgin didn't mean it wasn't a delicate issue for you. One that you didn't have to explain to anyone. At least that's how you justified it to yourself.

Taehyung knew that, to some extent, what he was doing with you was dangerous. A man in his position would put anyone in danger if others saw his affection. But he couldn't stay away from you, so his only choice was to make sure you were safe himself. That's why, after he dropped you off at work, he went to pick up Jungkook and took him back to your building to case the place—see what weaknesses and dangers he could find, if any of your neighbors were suspicious. After looking around your block for a little while he seemed satisfied enough.

Next was meeting you after work, when you found him much the same way you had in the afternoon, although he had changed his clothes. When he saw you this time his expression tightened. You hadn't bothered to change since your shirt needed to be washed after having beer spilled in you earlier. He made a disgruntled noise when he saw the way your tits pushed out of your shirt and he could see a sliver of your tummy.

Tae didn't know he had a possessive streak. He never had before with any other partners, not even really with Jimin, who was his most serious relationship. But it was different with you. The idea that other men had been looking at you like that all night unsettled something in his stomach. He groaned as he hooked a finger into your belt loop and pulled you between his legs.

"Do you have to dress like that for work?" He pouted before kissing your lips softly.

You giggled, and it was almost enough to make him smile. Almost. "Yes. Gotta get those tips somehow." He groaned. "Shh. At least I'm not taking anything off."

"Don't even think about it." He squeezed your hips in his hands.

"Oh. You wouldn't like that?" You teased.

He pushed you away an inch. "I am trying to be a gentleman here. Please don't test me."

You smiled as you put a piece of his hair back in place off his forehead and then kissed his lips. "Okay, gentleman. Take me home then?"

Taehyung smiled and swept you off your feet to set you inside the car, appreciating your squeal when he did so. Your apartment was even closer to the bar than it was to the club, but in the opposite direction. On other nights, Taehyung would park at your apartment and walk you home, holding your hand. One way or another, a night never passed where you walked home alone again.

When he parked in front of your apartment that night he followed you to the gate, where he pressed you against the bars and kissed you breathless. He rested his hands on your hips, and it took all his self control not to let them slip any lower. But he couldn't stop himself from exploring the little patch of skin between your shorts and your tank top with his thumbs. You moaned into his mouth at the feeling of just a little skin on yours, and your body felt alert and gooey all at once. Your free hand twisted into the front of his shirt, pulling him against you while your other held the bear he had won for you. After a few minutes he pushed your hips away, against the gate, making the metal clang.

"You should go before I lose my self control," he breathes, only an inch away from your face.

"Okay," you responded in a daze. He stood in front of you a minute longer, making it impossible for you to move, even if you wanted to. Then finally he sighed and took a step back so that you could unlock the gate and get inside. He didn't follow you in, even though you half hoped he would. You took a few steps toward the stairs before you turned back and put your face between the bars, gripping one like your life depended on it. "Tae?"

He hadn't moved until you called his name and then he stepped forward until he was standing right in front of you again, but didn't say a word.

"I had a really good time today. Thank you for everything. It felt really…nice to be with you." Your eyes started on his face but slowly drifted to the ground as you got shy.

Taehyung lifted your chin with his hand so he could look into your eyes.

"We can have so many more days like that," he promised.

"Yeah?"

"Of course. I loved it, too." Then he bent his face to yours and kissed you through the bars. This time you didn't let it linger so long, and you pulled away before he could get lost in you again.

"Goodnight," you whispered before you turned away and hurried noisily up the steps. Taehyung watched you go with his face pressed against the bars, until you gave him one last smile over your shoulder and entered your apartment.

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messers-moony · 3 years

Text

Annotated Books & Sleek Hardcovers | R.B

Paring: Regulus Black X Fem!Lupin!Reader

Summary: Everything told them to be apart, but they said fuck the world.

Inspiration: Click

People would describe the younger Lupin sibling as warm and bright. She shined like the sun and was warm like a sunny summer day. She was the breeze on a warm summer day and the sun on a chilly autumn morning. She was worn books with annotations in the margins, highlighting, and scribbles. She was dependable, sweet, kind, and loving.

Dependable like a best friend. Sweet like Honeydukes chocolate. Kind of like a puppy dog who had been just adopted and as lovable as soft blankets. Her brother was no different. He oozed shyness, charisma, and intelligence. His tousled sandy hair and gleaming green eyes made everyone bend to his will. He didn’t even know that he was doing it.

But by fifth year, Remus Lupin had come out as gay. A month later, Sirius Black was on top of the Gryffindor table with a blushing Remus announcing their relationship. Remus had given his sister a sheepish look as he sat back down. Y/n had just kissed his cheek and smiled.

Y/n and Regulus had been sitting beside each other when Sirius had taken the Great Hall by storm. Instinctively, Regulus tightened his grip on her hand, and Y/n allowed her thumb to run along his. She watched as his shoulders relaxed a prominent amount.

“Well,” Regulus whispered, “I wasn’t expecting that. Did you know?”

Y/n shook her head, “No, but I’m happy for them. Are you?”

“I ‘spose.” Regulus shrugged, “When do you think they’ll find out about us?”

“Remus is a bit oblivious.” Y/n replied, “Sirius doesn’t really turn his head in your direction.”

Regulus looked down at his lap, “So if anything, we’ll have to tell them.”

“Do you think,” His voice was lower than a whisper, “That he’ll ever be my brother again?”

“I do.” Y/n leaned her head on his shoulder, “Siblings have a special bond.”

“I hope you’re right.”

She snorted, “I’m always right.”

At that, he cracked a smile.

Maybe it was her warmth that melted the ice surrounding Regulus’ heart. The icy, cold, Regulus Black. It wasn’t like they were hiding their relationship, but people were terrified to talk about it. They didn’t want to face the wrath of the young Black brother.

Regulus was described as the dark, cold winter nights people despised. The winter nights that were so low in temperature that even staying inside with the heat on, blankets on, and layers of clothes couldn’t warm. He was sleek, hardcover books and soggy leaves in the fall that left you disappointed when the satisfying crunch didn’t echo through your ears.

Regulus Black was everything but warm. He was your least favorite color. Your least favorite food. He was everything you hated. Perhaps it was Y/n’s sweetness that brought some of the crunchiness back to his leaf, the pen to his book, and the folded pages.

They were star-crossed lovers. Everything in the universe was trying to keep them apart from the colors of their robes and the clashing of their personalities. Regulus was the dry autumn and brash winter. Y/n was the prospering spring and hopeful summer. Perhaps they were the best of both worlds, and that’s why they worked together so well.

It wasn’t until their sixth year when their relationship had become the talk of the school. Regulus had begun wearing long sleeves even in the hot months, and people grew suspicious. Only he and she knew what laid beneath that crisp white button-up. Beneath the cold ice he kept around his heart.

Y/n looked around Platform Nine and Three-Quarters for her raven-haired boyfriend as Remus joined his friends on the train. When she did find him, it wasn’t pleasant. Walburga had been fussing with his sleeve, making sure it stayed down, and she had slapped the back of his head for slouching over. Regulus had rolled his shoulders to stand up straight. Orion didn’t look impressed, and Walburga murmured something along the lines of, “Good enough.”

“Now, what do we say, Regulus?”

Regulus caught Y/n’s eyes for just a split second, and he looked away hastily, “Toujours Pur.”

“Good.” Walburga stated, “Now go.”

He nodded and began walking toward Y/n’s general direction. Regulus took her hand in his directing her on another path, “Meet at our usual compartment.”

Y/n gave him a smile in response as she walked away. It left Regulus with a pink hue coating his usually pale skin. His stomach fluttered, and his heart palpitated. They entered the train on opposite sides and met in the middle at their compartment. She was already sitting down when he plopped down beside her. His head was leaning on her shoulder.

“Missed you.” Regulus slurred, sleep evident in his tone, “Wish I could’ve escaped.”

“I missed you too, Reggie.” Y/n took his left hand in hers, “But I know that we have a lot to talk about.”

He tensed, “I suppose we do.”

“Things like what’s on your left forearm?”

“Y/n, please-“

“I’m not mad.”

“But you’re disappointed.”

Her light laugh confused him, “I’m not either, actually.”

Regulus lifted his head to look at her, “You aren’t?”

“I just want to know what you plan on doing with that mark.”

“I don’t have a choice.” Regulus stated, slumping down again, “I have to serve him.”

Y/n hesitated, “You have choices.”

“What are they?”

“Be a spy.”

“A spy?” Regulus queried incredulously, “Are you serious?”

A silly smile graced her features, “Actually. Forget I asked that. Are you daft?”

“No.” Y/n replied, “I’m actually top of our class, so.”

“If he finds out I’m a spy. Then I’d be killed, Y/n.” Regulus said softly, “It’d be different if I didn’t care about anyone. If I had nothing to lose, but I do, and I don’t want to lose a chance at a future with you because of it.”

Y/n took his face into her hands, “You can’t do this. You can’t work for him. You’ll kill yourself slowly anyway.”

“I don’t have a choice.” He wiped a tear from her cheek, “This was bound to happen. This was my fate.”

“Who gives a shit about fate.” Y/n chuckled tearfully, “Professor Trelawney always said that you could change fate.”

Regulus cracked a tiny smile, “You would pay attention in Divination, wouldn’t you.”

“Someone’s gotta give Sirius the notes.”

“Sirius… I didn’t even think about-“ Regulus stopped, “He’s- He’s gonna hate me.”

“Hey, Regulus, look at me.” His breathing sped up, and his hands began to tremble, “Sirius isn’t going to hate you.”

He shook his head, “No, he’s- he’s gonna- I’m gonna-“

Y/n wrapped her arms around him. Regulus nosed at the crook of her neck, breathing in the sweet perfume. The fragrance smelt of crisp apples mixed along with her scent of caramel, chocolate, and marshmallow. It gave him something to focus on, and with his muddled mind, Regulus fell asleep.

Regulus was still asleep three hours later when Sirius came barging into the compartment stopping in his tracks. Y/n brought her index finger to her lips, ordering him to be quiet. Sirius shut the door and sat in front of them. Regulus’ face was out of view from his older brother's. His nose was nuzzled in Y/n’s neck, and his hair hid his face.

“So,” Sirius began quietly, the atmosphere had never been so thick, “How long?”

“Fourth year.” Y/n thought Sirius’ eyes were going to bulge out of his head.

“But you- and him- you don’t-“

“Don’t belong together?”

Sirius nodded, “Who are you to say? Technically I could say the same about you and my brother.”

“Fair point.” Sirius muttered.

It was quiet again, and all that was heard was the slashing of rain on the window of the train, “How- How is he?” Sirius’ voice had never been so quiet before.

“He’ll be okay.”

“What’s that suppose to mean?”

Before Y/n could respond, Regulus began to tremble again. He was trying to dig his nose deeper into her neck and reaching desperately for something to hold onto. Y/n allowed his hand to grasp hers tightly. His trembling subsided, and Y/n gently kissed the crown of his head, allowing him to relax finally.

“How did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“I never-“ Sirius looked shocked, “I could never calm his nightmares….”

Y/n gave him a soft smile, “Perhaps it’s a Lupin talent.”

“Perhaps.” Sirius replied, “But, is he okay?”

“He will be.”

“What does that mean?” Sirius questioned loudly, and Y/n hushed him, “They didn’t- did they?”

She nodded solemnly, “We’re gonna- We’re gonna work through it together.”

Sirius could see her swallowing the lump in her throat. Sirius could see the dullness in her eyes, the same dull that Remus’ eyes got after the full moon. Sirius could always read Remus through his eyes. They were a tell-tale of his emotions. It seemed that he could do the same with Y/n. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, untold trauma, and unspoken words.

“Take care of him, yeah?” Sirius requested quietly as he stood up to leave the compartment.

She nodded, “Yeah.”

He closed the sliding door quietly. It was a quiet walk back to his own compartment with the Marauders. The task of getting the summer homework to copy turned into an entirely new adventure. Sirius opened the door to his compartment to find James and Peter talking animately. Remus sat with his head against the glass and head in a book. He had some muggle markers beside him that Sirius liked to draw with.

Sirius slumped beside Remus putting space between them. That was the first tell. The second tell was that Sirius didn’t speak, and he stared out to the train's hallway. Remus closed his book, placing it back beside him, and wrapped his arm around his boyfriend's shoulders.

“What’s wrong?” His voice was low and hot in Sirius’ ear.

“Nothing.” Sirius replied, still not looking into Remus’ eyes, “Your sister was no help. Said I needed to do the homework on my own. Said I was a tosser for not doing it.”

Remus snorted and nuzzled his nose into Sirius’ cheek, “Well, perhaps I ought to tell her that’s not how she should speak to my boyfriend.”

“No.” Sirius hated how distant he sounded, “She’s got other things to worry about.”

The lycanthrope furrowed his eyebrows, “Like what?”

“Like you.” Sirius lied like it was nothing, “Who do you think puts hot cocoa and Honeydukes chocolate at your bedside after the full?”

“Then I should give her a sister of the year award.” Remus corrected, and Sirius nodded, “Perhaps you should.”

If only I could get a best brother award, Sirius thought. It was selfish. He knew that. It was wrong to envy Y/n and Remus’ relationship. Unfit to be jealous of his brothers relationship, but he couldn’t help it. Sirius wanted to be the one to chase all of Regulus’ demons away. Sirius wanted to hold him during every thunderstorm as he used to as children. Sirius should be happy for Regulus even if it weren’t because of him.

It took a month before Remus was storming into the common room and yelled insanities at his sister. Remus wasn’t thinking, words fell from his mouth so carelessly, and the entire common room stared as Remus had his sister pushed against a wall, hands holding her up from the collar on her shirt, seething at her.

“You must be one of the stupidest people I’ve ever met.” Remus seethed, and Y/n flinched, “You must be fucking insane.”

Sirius could do nothing but stare, “Maybe I should’ve disowned you as my sister the minute I saw you hanging out with him.”

Tears ebbed at Y/n’s eyes, “But I gave you the benefit of the doubt. I trusted you, and you betrayed me.”

James couldn’t tell what was worse, the fact that Remus was so calm and his voice was so low or when Remus yelled, “You were my everything. My sister, my partner in crime, my other half, and you fucking destroyed it.”

“Mate, stop.” James tried to interject, but Remus just shoved her against the wall harder, and streaks of silver appeared on her cheeks.

“Wonder what dad would do if he found out.” Remus taunted, and Y/n shook her head, “You know how much dad despises them.”

Y/n choked, “Remus-“

“Don’t.” He snarled, “My name isn’t allowed to fall from your mouth. Fucking traitor.”

Sirius had enough, “Remus, stop. That’s enough.”

Remus whirled around, Y/n sliding to the floor, knees to her chest, “Who are you talk? You did the same thing back in fifth year.”

“I’m not your bloody sister.” Sirius snapped, “She’s been there with you through everything. Maybe if you let her explain, then you could understand.”

Remus pointed at her and looked at Sirius with fire in his eyes, “She isn’t my sister. She’ll never be my sister again.”

Sirius could remember the exact same words falling from his mouth only a year earlier, and it crushed him. Y/n was sobbing, and her knees were pulled tightly under her chin. James was trying to console her, but it wasn’t working as Remus and Sirius went toe to toe. Y/n didn’t deserve this for loving who she loved.

Remus scoffed when Sirius wouldn’t back down and stormed up to the boy's dormitory. Sirius knelt before her and lifted her head from her lap. His thumbs wiped away the tears, and he took her into his arms. So much built-up pain, built-up trauma, built-up lies. She was finally crumbling like a tower on an unsteady foundation. Y/n was a one-hundred-story tower that was collapsing from the bottom up.

Debris falling everywhere and soot clouding the atmosphere. He could see the smog slipping in her mind, clouding up her judgment and thoughts. Sirius could see the debris cluttering and scraping away at her heart. With every scrap and every tear, her heart began to give out. It felt like being crushed in an elevator, with no room to breathe and no room for moving. She was stuck, and that was it.

Y/n couldn’t remember much after feeling Sirius’ lips on the top of her head. But she woke up on the plush of the common room couch. The rough maroon fabric was felt beneath her fingertips. Beside her was a boy in an armchair. He was curled up, and a black fleece blanket covered his body from the coldness of the Gryffindor common room.

Beside her was a glass of water and a note. She picked up the water and allowed it to glide down her throat, soothing the ache from her earlier crying. Her nose still felt stuffy, and she willed herself to sniffle quietly, trying not to wake the boy beside her. The parchment was ripped at the edges and was written in beautiful calligraphy.

"Il y a toujours des ténèbres avant que la lumière brille."

She folded the note and placed it back on the side table with the empty glass. The fire had gone out fully in the common room, allowing the temperature in the room to fall. It was cold, dry, and dark. Y/n had never seen the common room so dark. Not a candle was lit, and no light was shining from the windows. Just the slightest bit of moonlight. Gently she stood up and reached for the boy's hand in the armchair.

“Reggie.” Her voice was smooth and soft, “Reg.”

He stirred and opened his eyes to meet his girlfriend's warm ones. Sirius had rushed to the Slytherin common room despite all prejudice. Some of the Slytherins spat at him when he asked for the password. It took ten people before Regulus finally answered to the incessant knocking. He was shocked to be met with his older brother.

There Sirius had told him what happened, how Remus had shoved his sister against the wall accusing her of betraying him for dating him. Regulus felt ashamed. He didn’t want to be the reason they didn’t get to be civil with each other. Sirius even uttered the exact words Remus had, “She isn’t my sister. She’ll never be my sister again.” Regulus had to bite his tongue to stop himself from saying anything.

People stared at the younger Black brother as he walked into the Gryffindor common room. The Gryffindor’s glared, spat, and insulted, but he didn’t care. He found his girlfriend lying on the couch with a thick red blanket surrounding her. Sirius had claimed that Marlene had brought it for her, and Sirius had been the one to move her to the couch. Regulus saw the dried tear stains, the swollen eyes, and the bruised lip.

“It wasn’t pretty.” Sirius had muttered, “Remus isn’t one to hold back.”

Regulus smoothed her hair back, “This is because of me….”

“Reg, no.” Sirius had replied, “Remus will come around. He just doesn’t know how to digest this.”

The common room was silent, and Regulus just held her hand. His thumb stroked the back of her hand softly. Sirius watched as Regulus went through a wave of emotions. He was hurt, confused, concerned, and terrified. It was like watching the seasons go by. Watching everything welt, die, grow back and prosper just to repeat the cycle. It was like watching a new book turn into an old one as the ink was embedded onto the pages, the papers getting folded, tabs being placed, and the spine being cracked.

Regulus appeared to be a sleek hardcover book, but she was his person. She turned him into a used paperback. One with highlighting, tabs, folded pages, a cracked spine, and a loved cover. His heart beat for her. She was the reason he woke up every morning, the reason he ate, the reason he got good marks. She was his reason.

“I tried talking sense into him.” Sirius confessed quietly, “He just brought up the incident in fifth year.”

Regulus closed his eyes tightly and tried to withhold his tears, “Maybe I should talk to him.”

“No.” Sirius said sternly, “You’ll be asking for death.”

“What do I do, Sirius?”

His blue-grey eyes were glittering with desperation, “Nothing… Take care of her.”

With that, Sirius left a kiss on his younger brother's head and left the common room, retreating to the dormitory. Regulus sighed and placed his forehead on the back of her hand. Tears slipped from his eyes and onto the material of the couch. Everyone was gone at that point. The common room wholly cleared and the fire slowly decaying in the fireplace as Regulus Black finally allowed himself to break.

He woke up on an armchair with a soft thick black blanket covering his limbs. Red rimmed e/c eyes met his blue-grey ones, and he felt a wave of relief. Y/n reached her hand out, and Regulus took it, keeping the blanket around his shoulders as she brought him to her dormitory. The girls were sleeping, and Y/n sat down on her bed, Regulus doing the same. She drew the curtains and muttered a silencing spell.

Regulus laid with his head on her pillow, pulling her to lay on his chest. He wrapped the fuzzy black blanket around them. Y/n nuzzled into his side, and he placed a kiss on the top of her head. They didn’t need to exchange words for expressing how they felt. They knew how the other felt. There was no need on elaborating. She fell asleep not too long after, and Regulus laid awake trying of solutions.

Even when the sun broke the horizon, Regulus still had nothing.

They continued the year like this. Remus and Y/n didn’t speak at all anymore. Remus went as far as to change his schedule and ignore the sweets left on his bedside after the full moons. Sirius would pretend it came from him, but Remus still would budge. He would chuck the chocolate in the trash even though he knew that Y/n barely had money in the first place to buy it. He’d dump the hot chocolate in the waste bin and smash the mug to get out any frustration.

Sirius thought that the worst part was Remus never grieved for his sister. He never saw Remus cry or get upset about what he did. It was like Remus had no remorse for what he did. Sirius had grieved. He had sobbed in the midst of twilight with shit silencing charms. Sirius had wailed and clutched his blanket close to his chest, hoping it would soothe the aching of his heart.

When they graduated, Remus didn’t look for his sister in the crowd. He didn’t care if she was there or not, but she was. Y/n was there holding Regulus’ hand tightly, watching her brother shake Dumbledore’s hand. She watched as Sirius embraced Regulus in a tight hug in the shadows. Y/n smiled bittersweetly at their embrace as Regulus took her hand back in his.

Sirius began to open his mouth, “No need to lie. I know he doesn’t care if I was here or not.”

Y/n shuffled on her feet, and Sirius took her into his arms. Sirius was shorter than Regulus, and he didn’t smell the same, but his hugs were just as comforting in a brotherly way. His hand caressed her hair, and Sirius couldn’t help the way his heart ached. He shouldn’t be the one hugging her, Remus should, but he isn’t. Sirius kissed her forehead and released her from his hug.

“I’ll write to you guys.”

“Don’t get into too much trouble.” Y/n replied with tear-filled eyes, “I can’t imagine you gone.”

Sirius smirked, “Yes, ma’am. Don’t you know I always obey the rules?”

“She’s being real, Sirius.” Regulus didn’t crack a smile, “This war isn’t a joke, and I’d- I’d like to see you next year when I graduate.”

“I’ll be there.” Sirius said solemnly, “I won’t leave you guys. They won’t take me alive.”

Y/n cracked a smile, “Good.”

Regulus nudged his girlfriend, and she wiped the tears from her cheeks, “Protect him. He gets reckless and forgets about himself. Don’t let him do anything stupid.”

Sirius could still hear Remus’ voice in their first Order meeting, “I swear on all Merlin if they touch her, they’ll be sorry.”

“‘Course. Don’t forget he’s still my boyfriend.” Sirius replied, and Y/n smiled, “‘S why I’m asking you and not James. Keep- Keep my brother safe, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

They joined the Order of the Phoenix without looking back. Remus, James, Sirius, and Peter quickly became some of the best Aurors of the Ministry of Magic. Sirius had made the Daily Prophet multiple for putting Death Eaters in Azkaban. Many citizens of the Wizarding community thought of him as the next Alastor Moody.

Seventh year was the worst one yet. Most of the Slytherin Death Eaters were attacking the younger kids. Most of the older Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs had to defend them from the unforgivable curses. It seemed normal to hear the crucio curse being thrown away and seeing green flashes. It made Y/n sick to her stomach.

It got so surreal that Y/n and Regulus had begun sleeping behind tapestries or hidden tunnels. Dormitories and common rooms were no longer safe. Their backs ached, and body’s sore from lying on concrete, but it was better than dying. Graduation was not a celebration, and no one from outside was allowed in, but Sirius waited for them at Kings Cross.

The next time Y/n saw Remus was when she was being sworn into the Order, and he barely spared her a glance. Not long after the speech was being spoken, another person entered the meeting point. He was shockingly familiar with wavy black hair and blue-grey eyes. Remus jumped out of his seat, and James had to hold him back. Regulus released a breath and stood beside his girlfriend.

“Now. I’m sure there’s a lot of confusion.” Dumbledore began calmly, “Regulus has sworn to be our spy.”

Remus growled, “He’s a Death Eater.”

“Exactly.” Remus glared at the old Professor, “Therefore, he can enter and participate in their meetings. Then he can come back here and report what he knows.”

“I don’t like it any more than you do.” Regulus said, “I don’t want to put anyone in danger, but someone needs to do it.”

Remus went to speak, but Regulus cut him off, “Someone needs to protect your sister.”

Everyone stared in shock at the bold statement that came from the young Black brother's mouth, and Remus leaped from his seat, “She is a traitor. Just like you.”

Instinctively Regulus moved her behind him as Remus was now face to face with him, “She’s everything but. Wasn’t she the one who stopped Fenrir Greyback from killing you?”

“Shut up.”

“Wasn’t she the one who cleaned your wounds after the full moons before the Marauders?”

“I’m warning you.”

“Wasn’t she the one who used to make you hot chocolate when the nightmares got too bad that you couldn’t sleep?”

Remus snapped, and Sirius pulled him away from Regulus. But they all saw how Y/n cowered when he lunged forward, how she flinched back, covering her face with her hands. Regulus kept a tight hold on her hand, and they watched as Sirius calmed Remus down, bringing him upstairs. When Remus was gone, Dumbledore spoke again.

“Well, the first Order meeting will be announced in just a couple of days. It allows Y/n and Regulus to get in their positions.” Dumbledore announced, “It allows Y/n to get some training and Regulus to get Voldemort’s trust.”

Everyone dispersed. Y/n and Regulus apparated to a flat they had bought in London. It was relatively modern for the time and had everything they needed. The place was clean and brand new. When they landed in the living room, she went straight to the bedroom. Regulus prepared her a hot drink and set it at her bedside table with a warming charm. He laid beside her, placing her head on his heart.

“Je Vous Aime.” His french accent was so smooth and gentle, like a baby blanket, “Je t'aime aussi.”

Everything just got more stressful as time passed. Regulus’ job got more and more dangerous, making Y/n worry profusely. It got to times where they had to pretend to throw curses back and forth so he could prove that he was loyal to them. It wasn’t until a rumor of a spy for the Death Eaters came out that Regulus’ job became crucial. It took three more meetings, and on October 15th Regulus knew who it was.

He could remember the day vividly how Voldemort welcomed Peter Pettigrew to the Death Eaters with open arms. Regulus had stared in mock happiness but, in reality, had been shocked. Someone so close to the Potters had gone and betrayed him. So when Peter was absent from one meeting, Regulus brought it up.

“They spy is Pettigrew.”

“No.” James chuckled, “You’re lying, right?”

Regulus shook his head, “He plans to kill you, Lily, and Harry on Halloween.”

Everyone stiffened. The air was tense, but Dumbledore smiled victoriously, “Beautiful work, Regulus. We’ll apprehend Pettigrew when he’s seen again.”

They had set up a false meeting where Peter got sent to Azkaban only two days later after Regulus announced he was the traitor. That sparked the war between them, and this time, Regulus was on the right side, the side he always wanted to be on. A week later, and on Halloween, Voldemort was dead. Many people's lives were lost, but many were saved.

After the war, Remus had proposed to Sirius, and yet Y/n was still not invited to the wedding. Sirius had begged Remus to make amends with her. The war was over. This nonsense was not needed anymore. But Remus was stubborn, and Y/n was too afraid to approach him, so James gave her the invisibility cloak to watch her brother marry. Not the ideal way she planned on watching her brother and his love get married.

A couple of months later, Regulus and Y/n did the same. Except they did it alone, with Sirius being their only witness and the person marrying them. Sirius couldn’t help but feel awful for Remus not being able to walk her down the aisle, not to see her in the pretty dress she had picked out. It wasn’t until fifteen years later when Y/n had two teenage boys, and a little girl did someone came knocking on her door during the winter holidays.

Both boys were running around the house, and their little sister was trying to keep up. Two twin boys who were fifteen - Romeo and Romulus. A little girl who was just about ten named Ascella. Romulus was a carbon copy of Sirius. Romeo had the Lupin sandy hair and the Black family eyes with the Black family defined face. He was the best of both worlds. Ascella looked like a female Regulus.

Romeo was the Keeper of the Slytherin house for Quidditch. Romulus played Beater for Gryffindor, and little Ascella would get her Hogwarts letter in just about a year. Regulus and Y/n both predicted she’d be in Gryffindor with her brave, mischievous nature. Y/n was the one to get the door with her two boys behind her. Ascella had been called into the living room by her father.

Y/n was shocked to meet familiar green eyes, “Um- hi.”

“Hey.” Remus said nervously, scratching the back of his head, “I hope I’m not intruding.”

Both boys behind her looked confused, “Mum, who is this?”

A pang of hurt hit Remus, “This- This is my brother.”

“Brother?” Romulus questioned, “Like he’s our uncle?”

“Yes.” Y/n retorted, “Now you boys grab your sister. Go do something upstairs while we talk, yeah?”

Romeo looked crestfallen, “Mum, we aren’t five.”

“I know, but we have a lot of talking to do.”

Romeo sighed, “Fine but be safe.”

She kissed the tops of their heads, “Of course.”

Ascella was running to her brothers within seconds after Romulus called for her. Remus saw her black hair flutter around as she followed her brothers up the steps. Y/n smiled and motioned for Remus to come inside. The house was lovely and decorated for the holidays. Y/n walked through the hallway to the living room, and Remus followed.

“I apologize for the mess.” She chuckled, “Having the boys home makes the house messy.”

Remus saw the pictures on the wall, “A Slytherin and a Gryffindor.”

Y/n smiled, “Yep. Romeos the Slytherin, and Romulus is the Gryffindor. We have a feeling Ascella will be in Gryffindor too.”

He placed the picture back down and sighed, “Merlin, what did I miss?”

Regulus was still stiff and stern, “A lot if you couldn’t tell already. That’s what happens when you call your sister a traitor and decide to disown her.”

All three children were listening secretly and grimaced at their father's words, “But don’t worry. I’ve done your job. I’ve been there for her, protected her, and made sure she was happy.” Regulus snapped, “And Sirius did your job of being the children’s uncle.”

“He didn’t even tell me you guys had kids.” Remus muttered, “‘Course he didn’t. In case you don’t remember, you didn’t want anything to do with us.” Regulus retorted.

The children had never heard their father speak this way with so much ice in his words. Regulus was blunt and unapologetic, “We wanted you to be a part of our family, Remus, we really did. But we didn’t know how you’d feel.” Y/n informed.

“Plus, the last time you saw us, you tried to kill Regulus.” Ascella covered her ears, and Romeo ushered them to his room to stop listening, “Yeah, so forgive us for not inviting you to be a part of our family.”

Regulus punctuated his statement by putting his arm around Y/n’s waist, “I’m sorry.” Remus murmured.

“I’m really sorry for how I acted. It was immature and stupid of me.” He continued, “I didn’t know how to feel when I heard my sister was with a Death Eater at the time, and I was just scared.”

Y/n stood up and hugged him, “Remus. What you did isn’t going to be forgiven. I’m sorry.”

He had tears glazing in his emerald green eyes that dulled with age, “I know we were young, but that doesn’t excuse the words you said or how you acted. Trying to kill my husband and saying god awful things about me.”

Y/n took her seat beside Regulus, and Remus sniffled, “You did this. Not us.” Regulus reminded, and Remus nodded.

“Okay, I just- I’ll go.” Remus stood up from his seat and walked down the hallway to the front door; he took in every family portrait.

When he got to the door, Y/n opened it for him, and he walked out, “Remus.”

He turned, and Y/n hugged him one last time. His chin rested on top of her head, breathing in her shampoo that still hadn’t changed since third year. The same perfume from fourth year. Her arms fit around him just the same way as they had when they were little children running around the lake. Y/n kissed his cheek and released herself from his embrace.

“I may not be your sister.” Y/n repeated with tear-filled eyes, and Remus allowed the tears to fall; her two boys were standing beside her, “But you’ll always be my brother.”

The door had closed, and Remus decided that that was the end of his chapter. He had underlined, circled, highlighted, and folded every significant page, but this was the end of the chapter. He was flipping to the next page, where the new chapter began. The new chapter where he had to live without his sister or his niece and nephews.

Remus always loved fragile, cracked paperbacks.

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somewhatgreatexpectations · 2 years

Text

Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Woman (Kate Bishop/ Reader)

Summary: Keeping the secret of being Spider-Woman from your best friend had never been difficult... Until she gets into trouble herself. Will the situation make you realize more than you expected? Will Kate find out your secret?

A gender-bent Spider-Man fic with Kate, written by request! (Also some of the most fun I've had writing in a while!) Enjoy!

“Woah, woah, woah. Back it up, Bishop.” You raised your hands and gestured them down. Thankfully your best friend understood the gesture and paused, her chest heaving from how long she had gone speaking without taking a breath. “What do you mean you’re working with Hawkeye? Like… Hawkeye the Avenger, Hawkeye?”

Kate nodded rapidly and you were almost concerned her head was about to fall off of her neck. “Yes, thee Hawkeye! My hero, Y/n! Can you believe it?” You stared at her with wide eyes as you tried to process everything she had just told you, your mind moving a hundred miles an hour.

Even with Spidey senses it was a lot to take in.

Her rant went on despite your inability to keep up. “The only thing that could make this better would be an invitation to work with the Avengers. Can you imagine? Me. An Avenger, part of the team with Hawkeye! We’d wear these badass purple suits - which I’ve already designed - and kick the ass of every villian in New York-”

“Kate.”

It was as if her ears had turned off as she continued rambling. “Then after we clear New York, we can go wherever we're needed and save the world with me being Hawkeye’s partner-”

“Kate.”

“Which would mean I could go on missions with the Avengers. Do you think Spider-Woman is a part of the team? I wonder if I’d get to meet her. You know, since we’re both New York natives. She’s the friendly neighborhood Spider-woman. Would that make me the friendly neighborhood archer? Y/n, this is so-

“BISHOP!” You shouted, making Kate jump, her sentence pausing in her surprise. You breathed a sigh of relief as you stood from your place on her bed. “Will you just breathe for a second?”

Kate huffed and took a seat in her chair, “There was no need to yell.” She mumbled with an adorable pout on her lips.

Her behavior made you shake your head and you began pacing the length of her room. Tension began building in your temples as you went over the dangers that Kate was putting herself in. “You realize this is a horrible idea, right?” You eventually said, turning to face her.

Her brows furrowed in annoyance. “It’s not a horrible idea, Y/n.” She replied stubbornly, “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself and will have Clint Barton, the world’s greatest archer, with me.”

An annoyed huff slipped past your lips before you could stop yourself. “Yeah. Barton is one of the oldest Avengers and partially deaf. Excuse me if I’m not very confident in his ability to protect you.”

“How did you know that?”

You cursed inwardly, realizing your slip far too late. “How did I know what?” You questioned, feigning confusion.

Kate’s eyes were suspicious as she regarded you. “How did you know that Clint is partially deaf?”

You pretended to remember, snapping your fingers for emphasis. “I couldn’t sleep one night and found myself on a page about rare Avenger knowledge. For example, did you know that Spider-woman’s suit is made of nanotechnology?”

Though she still seemed skeptical, Kate nodded. “Huh…” She shook her head. “Anyway, I’ll be fine. I’m with an Avenger, partial hearing or not. He helped defeat Thanos, this is nothing.”

With a sigh, you kneeled in front of her, placing your hands gently on her cheeks to make sure she was looking at you. “I’m worried, Kate. This sounds like really serious stuff and I wouldn't want anything to happen to you. Your safety is the most important thing to me.”

From where you were you could see the faint pink tint spread over her cheeks and you ran your thumb lightly across the path of the color. “You don’t have to worry, Y/n. Have a little faith in me.” She eventually replied, her hands coming to rest over your own.

Again, you sighed, feeling defeated. “I do have faith in you, Kate. Of course I do, but... I'm going to worry anyway because I love you.” Her eyes widened slightly. “You’re my best friend, it’s in my job description to worry.”

Kate’s shoulder’s dropped slightly and you couldn’t help but feel confused by her change of demeanor. “Right. Best friend.” She took your hands and put them back by your side. “Well, best friend, I really have to go meet Clint. I’ll call you after when I’m safe and sound, okay? Bye!”

Before you even had the chance to respond, she had grabbed her bag by the door and rushed out of the room. “This is your house, Kate.” You called out as you stood and followed after her, “Stay safe!” You shouted at the small piece of her you could see through the closing doors of the elevator.

“Guess Spider-woman has a new assignment tonight.” You muttered to yourself as you pressed the button for the elevator.

_____________

Later that night found you perched on top of a building down the street with a perfect view of the apartment complex that Kate was currently in. So far it appeared everything was going smoothly... but in your line of work, you knew that could never last. It would never be that easy. Just like clockwork, your senses began tingling indicating that danger was nearby. You quickly got into position and every single aspect of Clint’s mission fell apart, putting you on high alert as you assessed the various aspects and prepared of the best mode of intervention.

Focusing first on Kate, you noticed bright bursts of light coming from the apartment she was in, clearly a silent alarm. You hoped that she didn’t get herself in more trouble than she could manage as you strained your eyes to see into the apartment. Thankfully she seemed to get the alarm under control, the light shutting off moments later.

With that solved, you shifted your attention to Clint, only to see him being attacked by a masked figure that seemingly appeared out of nowhere. Your fingers tightened against the ledge you were perched on as you fought the urge to intervene. It wasn’t your place. You had to keep reminding yourself of that. He wouldn't want you to intervene. You allowed yourself to observe Clint for another moment before quickly deciding that he didn't need help anyway. Clint was capable of handling himself. He was a seasoned veteran after all and you had seen him in action enough to know that he’d be more than fine.

Kate was another story as your senses went on high alert when you heard commotion from the apartment.

“Activate enhanced reconnaissance mode.” You muttered quietly, your suit adapting and allowing you the ability to see into the apartment and get a clear view of Kate. Your throat constricted with nerves as you watched her fight off another woman. After a moment of watching her in action though, you couldn’t help but feel proud at the way she was able to defend herself against the enemy. You felt almost guilty that you had been doubting her ability to do just that earlier in the day. You always knew she was a badass, just not a badass superhero. Now, it was clear to you that she was.

With that in mind, you decided that you would only step in if Kate showed any signs of severely needing help.

Like being suspended over a busy street, hundreds of feet in the air, with no one to help. That definitely needed intervention. Your nerves spiked as you got into position. Before you could swing over though, the mask figure that was attacking Clint pulled on the wire that Kate was dangling from and gave her the momentum that she needed which allowed her to slide onto the roof of the building with ease.

The action put you on edge. In all your time as Spider-woman you had never seen the enemy willingly help the other side. Why would this mystery person fight Clint so readily and lethally, yet still try and save Kate? There was something off about the entire situation and your senses were going into a frenzy as you fought against every instinct to step in. Kate wouldn’t forgive you for doubting her and it was clear the masked person didn’t have any intentions of harming her.

For now, you would believe that it was all under control and that Clint was the target, not Kate.

Your faith in the mystery person quickly diminished when you saw them pull a gun and aim it at Kate. It was clear now. They were an enemy. They had to be. And you would do anything to stop them if it meant protecting Kate. Though she proved her strength again as she quickly handled the situation and got rid of the gun.

You watched nervously as the mystery person fought all three people on the roof, always seemingly having the upper hand. They were clearly just as, if not far more, advanced than everyone on that roof combined.

“Who the hell are you?” You muttered curiously.

The passivity fled from your body when you saw the masked stranger pick Kate up. Then, as if the world’s gravity and sense of time shifted, you watched helplessly as they tossed Kate over the side of the building like a rag doll.

“KATE!” You shouted, your heart nearly stopping at the sight as you dove into action, your web shooter making it possible for you to reach her in seconds. Your heart pounded anxiously against your chest until you realized that you had caught her in your arms. Kate was safe. That meant your world was righted again and you nearly wanted to cry with the knowledge, with the fear of what could have happened. Only there was something off…

There was resistance on Kate.

Your arms tightened around her as you looked from her waist up to the ledge. She was on a harness. The unidentified stranger threw her off the roof with a harness. To remove an obstacle without harming her. It confused you even more.

A small gasp caught your attention. “Y-you’re Spider-woman!” Kate’s eyes were wide as she looked up at you. “You saved me! Well, kind of. It looks like I’m attached to a wire, but still! Where did you even come from?”

Your heart fluttered at her ranting, because for a second there you thought you’d never hear it again. It made you want to kiss her. Wait. What? That was new.

Before you could process your thoughts though, the sound of Clint’s voice over the ledge interrupted you. “Kate! Are you alright?” There was panic in his voice and you couldn’t help but appreciate the care he had for the woman who meant the world to you. Maybe you could trust him after all. “Kid?” He added in surprise after seeing her in your arms.

You waved sheepishly with the arm that wasn’t holding on to Kate as if your life depended on it. “I'm fine!” She glanced at you almost for confirmation and you said nothing, but you couldn’t look away from her. Almost as if the thought of losing her placed her in a whole new light. You didn't want to let her out of your sight for even a second.

“You sure?” Clint called back, his skeptical gaze still on you.

Kate nodded, finally tearing her eyes away from you. “More than fine! Pull us up!” she shouted.

You coughed and Kate and Clint both looked at you. “I-” You paused and did your best to mask your actual voice. “Actually, I got that. Hang on tight.”

Without hesitation, Kate tightened her arms around you and heat spread throughout your body under Kate’s touch even through the suit which baffled you. It was all such a new sensation. Shaking it off, you shot another web to attach to the wall and propelled yourself back onto the roof, landing as gently as you could for Kate.

“That was so cool!” Kate shouted in your ear and you would have winced if you weren’t so endeared by her at the moment.

Clint coughed, backing up slightly with his back towards you both. “Uh, Kate? Kid? Time to cut the romcom act. We have more pressing matters to attend to.”

You looked at Kate then down to your body. Her eyes widened and she quickly got the hint and jumped off, a faint blush on her cheeks as she got into fighting position.

“Ready.” Kate muttered determinedly and again, pride bubbled in your chest at the sight. There was no time for you to dwell though as the masked figure attacked Clint again. The other woman, Maya from what you remember Kate telling you, removed the taser from herself and set her sights on Kate.

You shot webs at her arms, effectively pinning them to her side just as Kate released an arrow that lodged its way into her shoulder. “That’s going to hurt in the morning.” You muttered with a grimace, not that anyone could see under your mask. Kate smirked slightly at your comment and pulled back another arrow in warning. Maya took the opportunity and ran off without a word.

Just as you turned to check on Clint you saw him unmask the mystery person to reveal a blonde woman who tased him moments later rendering him useless. You held your breath as the woman turned to face both you and Kate. Your fists clenched at your side as you remembered that this was the woman who threw your world off the side of a building, harness or not.

Kate turned her arrow towards the blonde, who merely shifted her gaze over to her and faintly shook her head. Your thoughts went into a fray as you watched Kate slowly lower the bow in her hands. Before any of you could react further, the mystery woman threw an attachment to the floor and jumped off the roof. As she was falling you shot one of the spider tracers at the back of her suit, something you knew she wouldn’t even notice.

With that in place and the threat gone, you turned to face Kate, your gaze fixated on the gash on her chin and forehead. “Are you okay?”

Kate nodded, her chest heaving. “I’m great. This isn’t my first brush with danger, you know?” If you weren’t trying to be discreet you would have laughed. “Thanks for your help though.”

“Just being your friendly neighborhood Spider-woman.” You replied easily and Kate smiled shyly back at you.

There were questions in her eyes but before she could utter another word, Clint stepped forward and ran over to the ledge to see which direction the woman had run off to.

“Who the hell was that?” Kate questioned the smile fading from her face immediately as if she was grounded in the moment again at the sight of Clint.

The man’s voice was gruff as he turned to face you both. “Someone has hired a black widow assassin. This has gotten very real. Very quickly… So, I’m doing this alone.”

“No you’re not. I know tonight didn’t go as planned but I chose to be here.” Kate insisted, her voice thick with emotion. “I understand the risk. I understand all of that.”

There was heavy emotion in his eyes as he regarded Kate. "I'm not going to do it. Do you hear me? Go home, Kate, it's over."

You stepped forward. “You can’t do something like this alone, Barton. You should have learned that a long time ago.” You muttered, feeling the need to step up for Kate.

Clint rounded on you and you saw fear in his eyes. It wasn’t fear for himself though. It was clearly a fear for Kate. “What are you even doing here?” he demanded, fixing his gaze on you. “I can do this on my own. Go home. Both of you.”

You set your jaw when you could see tears well in Kate’s eyes and another reply form on her lips. “Without her you would have failed tonight." You muttered defiantly. "I’ll leave, but you need her. Do you hear me?”

Clint’s eyes glinted with defiance and you had to remember you knew very little of the man before you. In fact, he probably knew a lot more about you than you did about him. He looked over at Kate who stood straighter with determination. “I can do this. You can tell me to leave, but I’m going to keep helping whether you want me there or not. We're in this together.” She added, her voice rang clear and true and you couldn't have been more proud.

His shoulders slumped slightly in defeat, “Then we’re going to need a new plan.” He turned to look at you.

“If you need me, you know how to find me." You answered. "For now, I have other business I need to tend to.” His only response was a small nod of acknowledgment, of respect. You had both been through too much together to not respect one another.

As you turned to leave you felt a hand in your own tug you to a stop. “Wait!” You turned to see Kate looking back at you with eyes full of emotion. “Thank you.”

“Just doing my job.” You replied, feeling a flutter in your chest with the way she was watching you. “Stay safe.”

From where you were, you could see Kate’s eyes flash with almost a look of confusion, but you quickly swung away before you could say anything that would expose your identity.

When you had faded in the distance, Kate turned back to Clint, who was seemingly watching the interaction with interest.

“What do you know about Spider-Woman?” She demanded.

And that's all, folks! This was honestly so much fun to write. Who knows, I might add another part to it. Anyway, I really hope you all enjoyed!

Thoughts and comments always welcome! :)

Tag list:

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