#and yet it ended on such a hopeful tone

[di-kutla]

[marchessa]

So Sad It Ends, As It Began

 This fic was written for @domisrog​ (now @domisatop​) ‘s  #billytheskywalkerchallenge. I am late with posting this, and not completely satisfied with how it turned out,  

but I hope you will enjoy it. As the title says, my quote was from White Queen by Queen: So sad it end as it began.

Roger Taylor x Dominique Beyrand ft. the thirdwheel a.k.a. Chris ‘Crystal’ Taylor

Words:3100+

Warning: boys being drunk? And ducks.

Description:

  Once upon a time, there were two heroes with the same surname, who weren't related by blood. They were staying in a Swiss town on the shore of Lake Geneva at the foot of the alps, called Montreux. The two protagonists just finished their daily quest of getting drunk (very, very drunk), when they decided it was time to head back to their magnificent residence, (you may have already heard about this astonishing place called Duckingham Palace).

    On their route back to the Home of the Ducks, the heroes had to face many challenges: finding their way back in pitch black (which is let's admit, not easy when it's the middle of the night and you are wearing shades), passing through an almost uncrossable jungle of garden plants, and defeating several steep staircases.

    The question is, does our favourite gallant knight in those unmistakable sunglasses, in the end, gets the expected welcome from his sleeping lover, the French princess?

    In this story, the always helpful assistant sings his own and his boss's glorious triumphs and shameful defeats.

Montreux became one of the headquarters of the Queen family, or something quite close to that.

Chris Taylor remembered the time when the band members first marched into the little swiss municipality after they chose Mountain Studios to record some parts of their Jazz album in 1978. He could recall how Freddie originally wasn't that impressed by the town, and how it took some time and some good Swiss wine to change his opinion. And how could he forget the times when Roger and he went on a search during recording breaks looking for a great place to get drunk.

Time has definitely has changed since the four hysterical queens first stepped into this usually calm place, making its history even more fabulous with a lot more hit songs. It was like creativity, concerning the music industry, flowed freely on the streets, inspiring many great musicians to write and record some of the most famous songs of all times.

Queen has just finished their The Works album, and even though they didn't record it in Montreux, Roger decided to make his second album, Strange Frontier in the Mountain Studios before the Works Tour begins in that summer.

And that was why Chris was back in town with the famous blond drummer, who that moment looked like a tail-wagging puppy, swinging on his chair with a stupidly big grin, almost falling back several times. Chris was the one who had to steady him every time, but the blond ignored him most of the time, his cheeks flushed red temporarily. 'Ugh...God. Love really makes people crazy, or is it the wine?' The drum technician mused as his "boss" made an ass of himself for the umpteenth time that day.

It really did fascinate the brown-haired man how Roger still tried to impress Dominique. After all that time. After they had become a couple years ago. After they had a son together! But it seemed, the saying was true, falling in love really made you a fool. And Chris was there to witness those two across the table and their story of blossoming love. As being Roger's drum technician at first, then becoming his personal manager and friend, it was impossible to avoid. To evade the requests to give his friend advice on love, or to dodge the duty to console an almost completely heartbroken Roger when it seemed Dominique wasn't falling for his charm as other girls did. It was actually quite funny, seeing the great ladies man failing miserably in seducing his next prey.

And surprisingly for everyone, after seducing this one, there wasn't a next one.

Dominique was a fine lady in Crystal's opinion. They shared the responsibility to keep the drummer out of trouble, Chris did the job on tour and in between recordings - mostly successfully, - and Dominique had the shift at home. They got along well and often made fun of Roger together when he was... well, himself.

The fourth and last person at the table was Dave Richards, who looked a bit uncomfortable with the lovebirds sitting next to him, feeding each other with fondu. Seeing that, Crystal emptied his wine glass, gulping down the remains of the red liquid, and raised his hand, signalling the waiter to bring another bottle to their table.

"So," Roger looked up from his plate.

"How is the filming of the I want to break free going?" Dave asked curiously.

" Oh, it's going amazing. You will be very impressed. I look fabulous if I may say so myself." The blond winked at the man, Dominique giggled, and Chris huffed. " Actually, the only part left to shoot is Freddie doing what he always does," the blond took a bite from his food, and continued while chewing "Ya' know, being dramatic and all."

" I can't wait to see it," Dave hummed in response.

" Oh, I'm not sure about that. If you should see it or not, but this video will be big, I can tell you that." Chris looked at the unsuspecting man than turned toward Roger. " By the way, I don't know what changed your mind. You usually hate when people mistake you for a girl or says you look girly?" Chris raised a brow in question.

"Nah, it will be a good laugh. Anyway, it was Dom's brilliant idea, and the others went with it. You can imagine it didn't take a lot of convincing to get Freddie on board," the drummer squeezed his girlfriend's hand.

" Fred wanted to borrow one of my pair of high heels, to practice walking in it," Dom smiled.

" He enjoyed wearing the fake tits the most," Roger added.

" Fake tits?!" Dave almost choked on his wine.

" You will have to see it with your own eyes to believe it," Chris shook his head.

" It's getting late, babe." Dominique nudged Roger's hand.

" What? It's not even 8 p.m.! Are you feeling alright, beautiful?" Roger asked worriedly.

" I want to go back to phone the sitter. You know how restless Felix gets when none of us is with him. If he is not sleeping yet, I could sing him some lullaby," Dominique replied as she started to gather her things and put on her coat.

" Don't worry, I will get back this idiot in one piece later," Chris pointed at Roger, who was staring up at Dominique with love and adoration. Dominique just smiled at him gratefully.

" I can walk you back," Dave offered. " I have an early start tomorrow in the studio."

After Dominique and Roger shared a chaste kiss, she and Dave left the restaurant.

" And now what?" Chris asked.

" The night is still young. We should get drunk," the blond answered.

" Thank, God! I thought you wouldn't say that" the longer haired man sighed in relief.

After they paid for the bill, they left to search for a pub preferably where they could drink their weight in beer or wine without getting kicked out.

***

They soon downed half of the stock of the bar they choose to sit in, and it would have been difficult to follow Roger with bare eyes since only a blond flash could be seen as he trotted and danced from one table to the other. You could say Roger was an energetic drunk, never staying still for a long time. And the fact, that Crystal was equally drunk, and he was feeling dizzy didn't make the task easier keeping the blond man safe.

Roger was trying to climb up on one of the bar stools, and Chris was half cheering him on half trying to dissuade him when they were kindly asked by the bartender, to leave the establishment.

They still did not quite satisfy their thirst, so they went on to the next bar. On the way there they were stopped by a few fans, who wanted Roger's autograph. The screeching girls didn't make Chris feel better as his head was throbbing, but Roger, being always charming, complimented the fans while he scribbled his name on a few crumpled papers and stained napkins. One particular red-haired lass slipped a paper containing some digits in Roger's shirt pocket, taking the compliments as an invitation for more.

"Uhm, Rog! We should be going, or your wife will be really enraged. You promised the kids to read a bedtime story," Chris tried to solve the problem, and Roger sent him a bewildered look but remained silent until the girls left dejectedly.

" I got a wife?! And kids? I mean as in plural? Blimey, how long was I drunk exactly?" The confused drummer asked.

" Don't get your knickers in a twist. You don't have a wife, just a girlfriend and you have only one kid, that you know of," he muttered the last part under his nose.

" I love Dom," Roger cheerfully announced.

" I am well aware of that."

"Probably I should buy her some flo- hicc" he hiccupped in the middle of the sentence " some flowers."

" I don't think there is any flower shop open in the middle of the night, Rog. You should buy it in the morning."

The two of them were joking when they walked into the next pub, telling jokes only they found funny, thanks to their inebriated state.

" Why was the teacher cross-eyed?" Chris asked?

" Dunno, why?" Roger slurred.

" 'Cause she couldn't control her pupils, bwahaha!"

" Haha! That was a good one," the drummer laughed along. " Wait, wait. I got one too!" He cheerfully announced. " How it goes?" He furrowed his brows in concentration. " Oh, yeah! What did the pirate say on his 80th birthday?"

"Hmm?" Chris shrugged.

" Aye, 'maighty!"

Their howling laughter caused a few of the pub's patrons to turn toward them, but the two men just continued their giggling as they walked to the counter. Roger asked for some wine for them with groggy hand movements, and the bartender complied the task dutifully, not asking any questions. That was the professionality Roger liked in the catering personnel, so he left a few coins as a tip on the counter.

The two Taylors went to sit down to a table on wobbly feet, and Roger's head soon snapped up in alert. Jumping up from the sitting position, he started to stomp with his feet and bopping his head to the tune coming from a radio.

" Hey, you hear that! What a genius song!" He pointed with his thumb in the direction of the radio. " I wonder, hicc! I wonder who wrote that, hicc!" He chirped in between hiccups.

" You! Dumbass..." Crystal noted in a flat tone.

" What?"

" You wrote that song."

" Me? I don't remember it?!"

" You are a moron, Roger. It's on Queen's new album. Ring any bell?"

" Oh, yeah. That I'm bloody brilliant!" Roger happily exclaimed while taking off his sunglasses to clean it on his shirt since he could barely see a thing in the dimly lit building. " Hey, does my glasses still stained? I can't really see in them."

Crystal just rolled his eyes and took it out of his boss hands, continuing cleaning it in his own shirt after exhaling on it. When he thought he did a good enough job, he handed it back.

" Do ya think they take song requests?"

After a few more rounds of booze when they found everything way funnier than it was actually, a celebrating crowd entered the pub. The newly arrived people didn't recognise his drumming highness but engaged in conversation with Roger and his brown-haired companion, who was already half lying on the table in front of him. Roger learned that the group was celebrating one of the member's birthday, so he decided to buy the bunch a few rounds of drinks. He eagerly joined a few of them on the top of a table singing along with the songs blasting from the radio. He also enthusiastically shouted with the crowd 'Shots, shots, shots!'. What can be said, the owner of the pub made good money serving the rowdy crowd. The blond was actually about to sit in someone's lap, when a weary-looking Crystal stopped him, saying they should go head back soon to the accommodation.

" But I don't want toooo," Roger tried his best puppy face, pouting at Chris.

***

The drum technician wasn't having any of it, so he helped the shorter man in his jacket and waved goodbye to their new gang. Roger was shamelessly leaning on poor Crystal for support, who was barely standing on his own feet.

" Rog, we will fall if you continue to cling to me like this," he tried to shove his friend off.

" It's your fault, party popper. We could have stayed there longer!"

Chris learned a long time ago, not to get into a dispute with drunk Roger, it wasn't worth it.

On the route back to the Duckingham Palace, Chris kept stumbling and barely avoiding falling on his face, when he heard Roger bellowing in despair.

" Crystal!"

" What?!" He carried on with stumbling without turning back.

" I think I lost my glasses!"

Chris halfheartedly went back to help Roger, who was crawling on all fours.

" When did you see it last time?"

" Before leaving DP, you know in the mirror," he replied.

" Hmm..."

They searched on the ground for more than ten minutes when Chris looked at his mate.

" Oi, what's that on your face?"

Roger clumsily tapped his face with his muddy hands.

" I don't know, but, oh," he shouted in realisation. " Hey, I found the glasses," he happily pointed at his face, where the dark glasses were sitting on his nose.

Chris did not deign that for a reply, just got back on his foot and dusted his pants.

It took them embarrassingly long to get back to their magnificent residence. That time Chris broke the silence,

" What do you think, what's up with this guy and his ducks?" Crystal asked after he sat down on the well-kept lawn because he felt very dizzy, and the world was rotating in a nauseatic way.

" Probably some weird kink, but it' obvious he doesn't give a duck about others opinion!" They both erupted in laughter at that. " But if you are ready to stand up, we should go, it's cold outside," Roger scurried in the way of some bushes.

" Hey, isn't the front door this way?" The now lying man asked pointing in the way of the stone pathway behind his head.

" Nah, here's a short cut."

" You sure ab' that?" Chris doubtfully eyes the jungle of garden plants.

" More or less!" Roger shouted from the middle of the vegetation.

" Good enough for me," Chris shrugged and went after the blond.

"Me-ow!" Chris almost stepped on a cat, which appeared from nowhere.

" Oh, a cat!" Roger giddily whispered. "Here, kitty, kitty. Let me pet y'a," he crouched down, to catch the cat.

" I think Freddie is rubbing off on you the wrong way," Chris muttered.

"Why? Look at this cute little fellow," Roger joyfully lifted up the feline to his face. " Ow!" Then he hissed in pain when the cat scratched his face.

" I was wrong. Freddie wouldn't be ever rejected by a cat, like that!" Chris laughed gleefully.

As they approached the front door according to the blond, the plants became denser, causing Chris to get caught in a root, making him fall and pulling Roger down with him to the ground.

" Careful," the other whispered. " If we break these garden ducks, the owner will kill us." As they were surrounded by ducks made from different materials, this situation was the same as inside the house, hence the name Duckingham Palace.

" Roger? At what time do ducks wake up?" Chris asked, and when he didn't get a reply, he answered. " At the quack of dawn!" They started to laugh once again.

***

When they finally managed to cross the unforgiving flora, they were faced with a much greater challenge, a steep staircase. They climbed probably eight or nine steps when Roger lost his balance and slid down to the starting point.

" You okay?"

" Yes, but the floor keeps coming up at me!"

The taller man went to help Roger but his feet slipped too, and he fell down next to the blond, in the middle of the jungle. They rolled on the ground cackling at their own clumsiness.

When they got bored of sitting on the ground, they went onwards, Roger clinging to Chris' back as they climbed much more carefully this time.

By the time they reached the top of the stairs, they danced victoriously, which might have looked uncoordinated for someone who was not as intoxicated as them. Chris tried to open the door unsuccessfully with a set of keys, while Roger was leaning against the wall, cooling his face with the cold surface. The personal assistant was failing miserably and decided to take more serious actions, like breaking the door, but Roger stopped him, pushed down the door handle and the door miraculously opened.

" Dom must have left it open, expecting us to be wasted. Did I mention ever how much I love her?"

" You mention it five or ten times a day," Chris grumbled.

" I love you too, you are the best! I don't tell you that enough, but you are awesome."

" Hmpff..." Chris grumbled and looked down. That's when he saw those idiotic sunglasses on the floor, so he picked them up to hand them back to Roger, but the blond already went toward the direction of the master bedroom.

Roger was bouncing on the long corridor, bumping one wall then the other across. Crystal was watching his foolish friend, pinballing in the house laughed at him but called after him.

" Rog, do you want your glasses?" At that, Roger sent him a grateful grin and went back the same way, colliding into every possible wall.

Stepping next to Chris, Roger took the closest thing from the brown-haired man's hand, the big key chain, and went playing the strange human pinball game against the walls once again, that time trying to put the keys on his nose unsuccessfully. When he was already at the door to his bedroom, Chris called once again after him.

" Do you want your glasses or not?"

" Yeah, thanks, CT!" He yells back!

Chris was laughing at him doubled over, wiping the tears that were running on his face and sliding down on the floor, his legs not holding him up any longer.

When the drummer finally manages to get the glasses from his friend - who almost pissed himself from snickering, - he went to bump into every reachable surface one more last time. Roger not waiting longer after he eventually reached the bedroom, flung the door open and switched on all the lights in the room, screeching.

" Darling, I made it," he seemed proud of himself. For not long...

" Imbecilé! Savez-Vous à Quelle heure il est? C'était la dernière fois que Je te rendais visite! Je ne peux pas y croire..." Dominique shouted at Roger for a good hour after that, which was mostly muffled after the door was slammed close. Roger tried to explain it, but he was too drunk for actually succeeding.

Crystal listened to it from the other end of the corridor, still sitting on the floor, but not laughing anymore. He knew he would get a chew off from Dominique too it was inevitable.

" It would be great if next time we remembered not to woke up the sleeping dragon," as soon as Chris said that out loud there was a loud thump on the wall in the bedroom, so the brown-haired man jumped in fear of Dominique hearing what he just said. But that wasn't the case. The french lady continued to yell at the dumb blond.

" Tu es ennuyant, et égoïste..."

Chris just kept staring in front of himself, into the nothing, not seeing just hearing the quarrel.

"♪Dear friend goodbye, No tears in my eyes, So sad it ends As it began..." Crystal wiped his face with his shirt sleeve, " Dominique hating Roger's gut again♫..." as he sang mournfully.

[watchstarscollide]

If I Can't Have You | Homelander

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» Summary | She was the most aggravating being he had ever been around, and Homelander has dealt with a lot of irritation in his life. But how could someone be so annoying yet he couldn’t even get her off his mind?

❥ Pairing | Homelander x Reader

★ Word Count | 9.4k

» Warnings | slight degrading, negging, pinches of dacryphilia, possessive, manipulation, jealousy, slight fluff, idk what this is honestly. Homelander is not a "good guy", ya know?, Homelander POV

↳ AN | This has been a WIP for a long time. I started writing this a few months ago right after I watched season 1 so this does not follow any sort of storyline or season. It's just it's own thing.

*This has only glancingly been proofread so apologies for any errors!* Enjoy!

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He watched her day after day since the moment she walked into the hallowed halls of Vought. Her hair pinned in a bun, perfectly neat without a strand out of place. Her pencil skirt always pressed and proper - and never above her knees. She scurried past people with eyes casted down as she hurried room to room with coffees in hand. And when she was asked for anything unplanned she lit up with an excitement and vitality not yet corrupted by the corporate world. 

She was new.

She was innocent. 

She was annoying. 

The very moment Ashley walked in with yet another intern Homelander’s eyes had already rolled halfway into his brain. Just another person to be cycled through the system under the guise of work experience and a hopeful job offer, only to end in a mental breakdown followed by complete disappearance to the industry. The time, the training, the niceties. It was a hassle, it was tiresome. Homelander had better things to do than play nice with the help. 

She introduced herself to The Seven - a sickeningly sweet tone dripping from behind her bright smile and full lips. She twiddled her fingers as she spoke, her thumb providing a physical comfort by rubbing the back of her hand raw. She gave the same bullshit spiel that every single one before her gave.

“I’m so excited to work with you.”

“You have always been such an inspiration to me.”

“I am always around, don’t be afraid to ask for anything.”

Homelander snorted. As if he could face the shit he had to on a daily basis but be afraid to ask some girl to pick up his dry cleaning. Her head whipped over to him, her doe eyes widening ever so slightly. She was nervous to begin with, he could hear her pulse from across the room. The possibility of starting with a bad impression was enough for her blood pressure to skyrocket as her complexion flushed. 

But Homelander was nothing if he didn’t know how to charm. 

“We’re only able to do what we do thanks to folks like you,” He forced out, accompanied with the rehearsed smile he knew dearly. “Welcome aboard.”

She gleamed at that. 

She’d lasted longer than the rest. Almost 2 months later and she still entered a room with that exuberant smile as she trailed behind like a shadow. She and Starlight became fast friends it seemed. Made sense. They both were the epitome of irritating naivety. However their friendship meant her presence became more and more frequent around The Seven. Not only to do what she was hired for but occasionally entering the meeting room just to talk. And she could talk forever, droning on and on. Laughing her pitiful little giggle at every single thing. 

Homelander could feel as his dull headache began the longer she stood around. Not to mention the nauseating smell of the sickly sweet perfume she wore every day that permeated the room for hours after so much as just walking by the open door. Sometimes he would still be able to smell it around him during the dead of night when he was alone. He couldn’t escape her even in his sleep, her sparkling eyes haunted his dreams. Baring into his soul like a siren. They were more like nightmares truly. 

Her eyes flicked over to him as a muffled groan sounded behind his gloved hand as it swept over his statuesque face. 

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” He snapped, breaking his composure. “This is called a meeting room, I’d like to actually get the meeting over with.”

The girl stuttered for a moment attempting to grasp at any of the words that came to her mind. It wasn’t the first time the man had shown a side other than endearing patriotic hero seen on television but it truly was not something she had fully come to terms with. His shift in tone, the scorn behind his normally gallant eyes seemed out of place. 

The girl ducked her head, “Y-yes sir, I’m so sorry. Please let me know if there’s anything I can get for you.”

She didn’t understand why the Supe had developed such a distaste for her, but it became more and more obvious as time went on. At the start he was every bit the man she had truly admired, it was hard to hold back the admittance that he was always her favorite of The Seven. He spoke with clarity and assured authority. He was magnificent to see in action and with a smile and wink he was truly every bit America’s sweetheart. 

The facade seemed to slip away somewhere along the line, she couldn’t even be sure of when. It started with a simple cold shoulder - that one she could understand. She was just a lowly intern in the presence of universal marvels. The indifferent snub eventually became direct disdain. He would roll his eyes plainly when she approached him or walked away from her when she attempted to offer any service. And her obvious attempts to stay in his good graces only made him grit his teeth harder. 

But she always tried, surely he couldn’t just hate her. 

The nail in the coffin came only a few weeks later.

Press and PR was on the list of things Homelander hated the most. When things were too quiet in the city and there wasn’t pests to discard or bombs to defuse to make Vought look good, press was the way to keep in the people talking. Whether that was TED talks, morning radio, or the classic late night talk show- it all kept the news cycle turning.

Homelander could only be so lucky to do any one of those, but the universe seemed set on welcoming him into his own personalized circle of hell. In the effort to be more ‘accessible’ and ‘relatable’, Vought had set up rounds of internet influencers to have their chance at a one on one with America’s greatest hero.

Because nothing could be as meaningful as a Buzzfeed article or a Snapchat story. Or God forbid…a Tik Tok. 

And just to put the cherry on top of his day - his favorite intern was his sole wrangler for the whole ordeal. It was already expected by him to hear her accelerated heartbeat every time she popped into a room, but as she stood in the back behind the lights and cameras her hummingbird heartbeat was louder than any micro-celebrity that believed yelling equated to humor. Being her first time flying solo it was truly a test of her competence, no doubt a trial run before she would be considered for a more permanent position.

Great. 

She fiddled with the belt that hung off her jeans loud enough that Homelander could hear it as he spoke to the person across from him, his eyes twitching every time the metal prong clinked against the bar. He was glad that she didn’t wear the item of clothing all the time, her nervous habits would send him off the deep end if he had to hear it every day. Not to mention the way her tight jeans clung to her body, accentuating curves that she never let anyone know she possessed. 

Casual Friday. She never took part in it before - that day even allowing her hair to hang loose from the expected updo - she seemed to be getting more comfortable with her environment in recent days despite the deep breaths and the fidgets. But why did she have to pick that day of all days to suddenly switch up? Everything about her was disruptive. Homelander could hardly remember the questions being asked as she twirled her hair around her painted finger. Her eyes bore into him as he spoke, nodding along with whatever words spouted out of his mouth. As if it actually meant anything. Hell, he didn’t even know what he was saying aside from the various buzz words that were ingrained into his vocabulary.

 She brought a paper coffee cup up to her plush lips as she watched on. The same cup she had for the better half of the morning - lipstick stains building up along the lid. She almost never wore makeup but had conveniently opted for a look that was hard to look away from, highlighting her features in a way that was almost striking. Did she think she was getting on camera herself? Because she certainly seemed to be seeking attention. 

It was working and on more than just him. Homelander watched as she smiled against the cup as the interviewer cracked a few humiliating excuses for jokes. How could she find something so embarrassing be that amusing? It was almost degrading. Her eyes roamed over the interviewer speaking, a slight twinkle in them as something he said made her laugh audibly. The man looked over his shoulder at her with a smile as she held her hand over her mouth to stop the laughter. 

“I’m so sorry,” She giggled out, “I didn’t mean to-”

“No, no!” The man interrupted her, his sly smile deepening, “I appreciate validation from pretty girls.”

A flush trailed up her neck as the man winked at her. Homelander cringed at the interaction unfolding before him. That’s what got a reaction out of her? The most cliche line ever formulated by a man? The words were fake and contrived, Homelander would know. Pretty girl? Now, he was no man of great manners, but he played one on TV. Even as a pick up line it was poor. The man could’ve tried harder. Beautiful, stunning, devastating woman. Something with more power, more intention.

Not that she was. But still.

“With that, I think that’s all I’ve got.” The interviewer stood up and held his hand out to shake with the Supe. “Thank you for your time and for everything you do for the country.” 

Homelander’s jaw ticked in irritation. That’s it? He didn’t even get to have a final word, he was almost positive he didn’t even get to plug the bullshit he was supposed to. All because this kid got distracted by some girl? She didn’t even have to be in the room, she would’ve been just as useful outside the room where she couldn’t bother anyone. 

Whatever, the interview was a waste of time to begin with. It was a mystery how this guy was even allowed to do media with how dull he was. No wonder he was kept online, no way he would handle the big leagues. 

“The pleasure is all mine,” Homelander responded, flipping a switch to his signature heroic smile. But he made no motion to shake hands, instead stooping down to grab the half empty water bottle at his feet and turning to the attention of the makeup artist on standby to touch him up before the next lowlife walked through the door. 

The man laughed awkwardly before dropping his hand and heading for the door without another word to the Supe. Homelander leaned back, shutting his eyes and letting out a deep sigh of agitation leave his body. He still had half the day to get through, hopefully with less eventfulness between. As he breathed back in the girl’s sweet perfume filled his lungs, recharging any anger that had left. It was like every part of her was handcrafted to permeate and irritate him. He needed to calm down if he was going to continue the rest of the day. There was only so much even he could take. 

A whimsical giggle rang through the room causing Homelander’s eyes to snap back open in a flash. He sat forward slightly, the soft brush of setting powder following him as he moved to see what could’ve possibly been happening now. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness behind the lights his eyes focused on the sad excuse of a man that should’ve been halfway out of the building by now. Instead he stood leaned against the wall next to the intern, his eyes wandering her up and down as he spoke in whispered tones. 

Homelander watched her smile up at the man, her lip caught between her teeth flirtatiously as she handed a phone over to him. Her eyes were lit with a delight he had never seen before, not even when she was standing in front of The Seven on her very first day. The man grabbed the phone from her hand, his fingers brushing against her skin purposefully and Homelander could feel his anger physically bubbling up in him. 

What the fuck. 

The kid wasted an opportunity to get his 5 seconds of fame with Homelander but had the attemptive gall to get the attention of his intern? And it was working? The girl had that little self-respect that she was excited for some nobody off the street to notice her? Of course, because that’s what she wanted. She got all dressed up and ready that morning in her tight jeans, her low-cut top, her hair tossed to the side because she lived for the attention. Because she couldn’t just do her job quietly and go home like everyone else. 

“We’ve got a pretty busy schedule, pal.” Homelander called out, his voice booming through the quiet room causing everyone to flinch at the disruption. 

The interviewer looked over to the Supe with fake smile and an even worse apology. He turned his attention to the girl once more with a wink before ducking out of the door quickly. What a disrespectful little rat. 

The girl looked over at Homelander, the smile wiped from her face and worry taking its place in the crease between her eyebrows. She knew that tone from the man and she knew he wasn’t happy. They locked eyes for a moment in the uncomfortable silence of the room.

“Everyone out,” Homelander ordered, his stare never left the girl, “I’d like to have a word.”

The production team and makeup artist all shared looks before slowly filing out, leaving the intern alone with the Supe behind closed doors. The girl swallowed audibly though her mouth suddenly grew dry as Homelander lifted himself off his chair and slowly approached her. 

“Homelander, I’m so-”

“Ah” He interrupted, an unsettling smile stretching across his face, “I said I wanted to have a word, didn’t I?”

Her brow furrowed deeper and her eyes grew soft, almost teary as she nodded. 

“What is your job here?” Homelander clasped his hands behind his back as he paced in front of the girl. She looked at him, unsure what to say - if he truly wanted her to say anything at all. His smile never ceased as he urged her, “Come on, I know you have a voice. I hear it every god damn day.” 

His tone and his face was every bit the charming hero that everyone loved, but behind his eyes and words there was something much more menacing.

 “I-I’m here to provide support to Vought employees and talent by way of any requests or tasks assigned.”

“And what are you assigned today?”

“I’m here to represent Vought’s PR. To make sure all goes on as designed, smoothly and without anything unexpected.”

“Represent Vought?” Homelander questioned, his head tilted curiously. She searched his eyes, it wasn’t the answer he wanted. “Last I checked you weren’t an employee at Vought, is that right?”

The girl stuttered, “W-well, no…but-”

“I’m the only one that has any tangible meaning to Vought here,” Homelander’s smile dropped and he approached the young intern, his body casting a looming dark shadow over her frame. “So let’s get one thing straight. You’re here representing me.”

“Yes sir, I’m really so sor-”

“Oh cut the bullshit.” She winced backwards at his harsh tone until her back hit the wall but he continued to advance on her. “You think you’re the first person to try and smile their way into a position? You think you’re special? That you actually provide anything?”

Homelander could see the tears welling up at that point, and it somehow looked better on her than the gleam she normally sported. The way it collected in the corner of her make-up covered eyes and lashes, the slight flush to her cheeks and nose as her vulnerability shone through. The girl wasn’t as iron-willed as she thought - truthfully it was the most appealing she’d ever been. 

“That little stunt you pulled with that guy, what was that about?” 

She shook her head in confusion as her head dropped towards the floor, “I…I don’t know what you mea-” 

“You just like feeling wanted, don’t you? By a guy, by a company, it doesn’t matter. You just need to feel some kind of assurance that you can’t give yourself. Because you feel useless otherwise, right?” Homelander asked, his voice dropping into mock sympathy. He brought his finger up to the girl’s face, his gloved knuckle dragging down her cheek and jaw until it settled underneath her chin. He forcefully lifted her head until she faced him once again. Her eyes were red as she held in the urge to openly cry. 

“You think he actually has any interest in you?” Homelander shook his head with a patronizing smile as he said her name softly. “You are useless. You’re an embarrassment. And I have a little advice for you...”

The girl tried to move her face out of the Supe’s grip as a tear finally slipped from her eye but his cement-like hold kept her still. His shoulder shook with a laugh, his thumb extending up to wipe away under her eye as he leaned in slowly to her face. Her heartbeat lept as he neared, her eyes shutting forcefully in anticipation, her tongue sweeping over her lips as they parted submissively. Homelander preened with complacency at her assumption and he was almost tempted to fulfill her expectations. But instead he leaned in further until his nose rested against her temple. He breathed in the sugary scent of her perfume and warm vanilla of her shampoo - his hot exhale trailing over her ear and down her neck. 

“Stay out of my way. Do that and maybe, just maybe, you’ll get to flash your cute little Vought ID to the barista like a real employee.”

He dropped his hand from her face and in the blink of an eye he was feet away from her and headed back to his seat. She watched him in a state of shock and horror as he sat back down, as if nothing had even happened. Her lungs began to properly regulate her breathing as the room magically returned to its normal size and the claustrophobia subsided. 

“Thank God it’s Friday, am I right?” Homelander barked with laughter, the life and charm returning to his eyes and face as he fixed his microphone back in place nonchalantly. “Well, let’s get everyone back in here to get the show on the road!” 

She stared at him with hopeless confusion, as if questioning if the past 3 minutes occurred entirely in her own imagination. He looked back up at her but only gave her exactly what made her heart flutter mere moments ago from another - a wink and a smile. 

He didn’t see her again for the next week. He waited for her voice to enter through the door before herself - likely right before he conducted a meeting, interrupting and irritating him as usual - but she never showed. Every time he wanted something he looked around the halls, hoping to find the plucky intern to play fetch as she always insisted on doing but she was nowhere to be found. Her perfume even started fading from the rooms he normally felt suffocated in until he found himself wondering what the scent she wore even was. 

A part of him was let down that she turned out to be just like the others, always gone the moment it got a little hard. He felt that he could’ve been a lot worse than he had been, he merely offered a bit of life advice. She seemed so enamored by the new company she kept, it was hard to fathom that she’d give it up like that. He almost found himself wanting to casually ask Starlight about her new friend but he stopped himself, what was to gain from it? Probably a woe is me story of his given dose of reality.  

It was really too bad she was just as disappointing as he expected. 

By the following week he had almost pushed her out of his mind enough to no longer wonder or seek out her presence. No one so much as mentioned her through the days but he truthfully wasn’t sure if anyone even bothered to know or care as he did. But how could they not show curiosity? How could they not notice that her shrill voice was absent? 

And then he heard it. The melodic laughter that shot a pain straight to his temples as it echoed down the hallway. Homelander thought for just a moment that he may have been hearing things, even a Supe had their moments. But as the voice continued to float closer to the office he knew exactly whom it emitted from. 

He surprised himself with how quickly he shot out of his seat to peer around the door, but as he rounded the corner he was finally able to see the person he had spent the last week pondering over. Dressed back in her prim and proper pencil skirt, her hair held up by a thin band in a tight bun. And hanging from her neck…a Vought employee ID. 

Homelander huffed a short laugh, his eyes followed her approaching form as she walked closer and closer. The smile she always wore lit up her face as she spoke animatedly to the woman walking by her side wearing a matching ID. He had never seen the woman before, or if he had she wasn’t important enough to hold a memory of. 

The girl hadn’t noticed the Supe standing in the doorway until she turned her attention back forward. It was hard to not see the large man with his arms crossed over his chest, especially as his eyes all but burned both the surface of her skin and within. Figuratively and literally. As her gaze caught his own Homelander caught the slight falter in her step as her smile dropped until it disappeared altogether. 

“Well well well,” Homelander smiled and the girl noticeably cringed at the sound of his voice, “Looks like congratulations are in order.”

“Oh my god, you’re Homelander.” The insignificant woman next to them fawned, a twinkle of wonder in her eyes and excitement in her voice. Homelander didn’t even bother to look in her direction, his only focus being on the ex-intern in front of him. Though she hadn’t bothered to meet his stare, opting to keep her head ducked as he crossed in front of their path.

“Is that why you haven’t been around? What floor are you on now?” He asked, grabbing at the plastic ID on the end of the lanyard that hung loosely around her neck. She flinched at his movement impulsively. He read her name across the top of the card and looked over the picture that sat in the middle. Her bright eyes that normally shone innocence seemed to hold something deeper, a sharpness, a superiority that he’d never seen her express before. Homelander almost felt his own lip twitch upward at the notion. 

“I’m just grabbing some stuff that I left up here,” The girl said, an edge to her voice as she ripped the ID out of his grasp. “Excuse me.”

She stepped around the man to continue her walk down the hall, her hand firmly gripping the woman accompanying her - pulling her quickly by her forearm.

“You know Homelander?” The unknown woman whispered as she jogged to keep up with the girl’s pace. She only continued her retreat, her only reaction being a quick glance back to the man as held his spot. 

He watched, his jaw hung ajar as a million words threatened to spill from the tip of his tongue. She had expected him to follow, to hold her back, to say something. And he had wanted to, oh how he wanted to, but he held it in. At least vocally, mentally he was spewing a million thoughts a second. 

How dare she. Suddenly she thought she had any authority to ignore him? What happened to the helpful girl who only wanted to please? Couldn’t even have a pleasant conversation with someone she claimed to respect. Where did this backbone come from? When did she become so defiant?

All this time he spent wondering about her, thinking of her and this was how he was repaid? Embarrassing him in front of others? Ungrateful was just another trait he could add to his ever growing list of grievances. 

But why couldn’t he just let it go? 

She was moved to marketing on level 15 more than halfway down the building. Homelander had paid a visit to Ashley and was able to get the information he wanted from the very person who assigned her there. He also made sure to wring her out about shuffling people in and out, it caused disruption to the natural ecosystem of the company and his team. She looked at him in total bewilderment, he had never once cared about where an intern went or if he’d ever even see them again. In fact, most of the time he was in a more agreeable mood when they were gone. 

He watched her from afar, through floors, through walls. Watching as she shuffled from her desk to the water cooler or to get her own coffee, never once needing to serve others anymore. She was a hard worker, she spent hours at a time working on her own projects and those around her seemed to feed off her upbeat personality. The same personality that was almost like nails on a chalkboard to him. But every once in a while, out of boredom, Homelander would find himself tuning out the sounds around him to hone into that piercing voice or silvery laugh of hers. 

But she never ventured to the 99th level and Homelander wouldn’t be caught dead in any civilian department. Besides, why would he care to? 

They didn’t come face to face with each other again until months later. Vought’s annual kick-off event was an important one for the internal morale of the company. At the beginning of every fiscal year all employees were invited to the gala to partake in the provided cheap catering, the tone deaf DJ, and silent auction in the form of bulk electronics, bottles of wine, or tickets to a downtown tourist trap. It didn’t matter, the whole event would be a tax write-off anyway.

But the ultimate show of good faith was the chance to rub elbows with The Seven. They would walk around with smiles and handshakes, affirming with grace that they weren’t the real heroes at Vought. Sure, they were out saving lives and doing acts of god-like power but the Vought employees were the ‘real people making a change’. Everyone from the CEO right down to the janitors were all equally important and ‘fighting the real fight’. 

Homelander could feel the bile rising in his throat as the words spilled from his mouth time and time again. Being the leader of The Seven came with more annoyances than perks. He had shaken so many hands by the midway point that he was sure the leather of his gloves were worn out at the palm. And through that whole time he didn’t even see the one person he was sure would ring his ears the moment she walked in. 

He would never admit it but he took a hard glance around through people in search of her. Her hair probably pulled back though ditching the skirt and blazer. With a black tie event he wondered what she would look like in a formal dress. It was a toss up on whether she would be in something modest or something more form fitting. It was clear from the last time he had seen her out of the corporate uniform that she was certainly hiding underneath it. She had to be there, she was too proud of herself not too. He was almost surprised she didn’t use the event to have her own Cinderella moment as Vought’s newest darling employee.  

But as she didn’t turn up and with passing time Homelander continued his rounds between the peons. More photos, arms around the shoulder, and lying through his teeth. Though he was used to the charade, that night it seemed to be particularly grating. His eyes frequently darted from his conversations to the corners of the room, hoping to catch a glimpse of his ex-intern. Or even catching her wafting scent through the crowd of seeping cheap perfume and aftershave. 

A quarter of the way through Homelander started becoming irritated at his own agitation, he needed a moment alone to collect himself. He had made his way to the rooftop in an attempt to will himself the sanity to get through the night without letting his plastered smile fade away. Or worse. 

The cold night air that swept through the railing of the deck was a great relief. The terrace was secluded and quiet, not many people ever came to the spot as the wind was often too strong or too cold. He was also almost certain an access code was needed through the stairwell door but he never bothered himself with finding out. The mere moments it took for him to reach the top of the building from the ground did more to ease his mind than the lifetime in an elevator would. 

And just as always there was a certain beauty to the city from high above, especially after the sun had set and darkness took its place. The twinkling of lights bouncing between each building, acting as the city’s own form of stars in place of those that you would never see otherwise. There weren’t many things that Homelander found peace in but that was certainly one of them. 

He basked in the nighttime glow, allowing himself the second of peace and quiet before he would inevitably have to return to the crowded room until the tiring event was over. If only he had the power to speed up time. Homelander closed his eyes, filling his lungs deeply with the chilled night air and zoned his ears to the city streets below. The endless sound of traffic, music, idle chatter, and in the between the murmur of noise, sniffles and soft breaths. Loud. Louder than any noise on the ground level which could only mean that it was much closer than the rest. His focus turned to the shuddered whimpers originating behind him somewhere beyond the entryway. 

Normally he would have ignored it, been more ticked off that his area of peace was invaded rather than care for the reason for the pathetic cries, but curiosity got the best of him. He followed the emitting sounds around the roof until the sole proprietor came into view. A vision in a sleek glimmering dress, red faced with wetness trailing down her cheeks propped up against the sheet metal of the rooftop bulkhead. His little intern. 

Her hair gathered into a messy updo that sagged onto her shoulder as her quivering form shook it loose. Her makeup smudged around her eyes as she squeezed them shut in an attempt to stop the small cries from escaping her body. 

She hadn’t noticed Homelander, that much he knew. If she had there was no doubt she would have reacted noticeably. And if he was honest with himself, he would admit that he wasn’t sure what to do about that. His irritation dwindled to an awkward uncertainty of how to handle the situation that he was completely unprepared for. On one hand he was eager to say something, after all, he had been looking for her the entire night and this was a damn near perfect excuse. But on the other hand he could recognize the vulnerable state she was in and how unequipped he was to handle that. Both for her comfort and especially his own.  

He backed away slightly, his apprehension pulling harder in the game of tug of war in his mind. She would likely come back downstairs at some point, the party would still be going on for a while and there was no chance she’d pass up the chance to mingle. She was too driven to let that go. He may have had to extend the time he wanted to waste at the event, but he would if it meant he would find an opportunity to approach her. 

With his mind decided, he turned slightly to make his quiet retreat off the far side of the deck, though not without throwing a glance back over his shoulder one last time. His eyes landed back on the girl as she crumpled inwards even further, a sob wracking through her body. Her arms had crossed around her torso, her hands grabbing at her bicep and waist to hug herself tightly for any sense of comfort. 

His motion to leave had faltered. What could have possibly happened to make his normally bright and spirited intern so visibly distraught? Even his personal shake down didn’t get this reaction from her. 

The back and forth struggle reared in the Supe’s mind once again. He should leave her, let her gather herself back together at her own pace alone like she clearly intended. She had been up on the roof top seeking the same refuge and space that he had, he could choose to respect that. But truthfully, he didn’t want to. He was uncomfortable, he knew that there was little comfort he could give or even wanted to give, but he was also curious. He could almost feel an ounce of anger rising in his veins.

Who had done this to her? 

Homelander took a breath and shuffled closer to the girl, his feet dragging audibly against the slab roof. He was never one to drag his feet though in a quick moment of decision it seemed better to warn the girl of his presence rather than calling out. And his plan worked, with a slight jump in her shoulders the girl’s watery gaze whipped up quickly to meet his approach. She recognized him rapidly, his stark blue suit bright against the night sky and the flagged cape around his shoulders whipping in the winds. She turned her head quickly in the opposite direction, a hand moving to cover her mouth and control her breathing though she knew as well as anybody that there was little that could get past Homelander’s senses. 

“I came up here to be alone,” She said loudly, her voice wavering with the cry that was still caught in her throat. 

“I would say the same but it’s a little hard to find peace and quiet when there’s wailing in the background,” He threw out without a thought. The girl’s head dropped until her chin hit her chest, her shoulder shaking again as new tears fell to her lap. Shit. Homelander shook his head, even when his intentions were halfway positive he couldn’t manage to hold himself back. Just a reminder of why he shouldn’t genuinely try to comfort anyone.

Should he stop? Should he go back downstairs to mind his own business? But his mind would still be on the roof with her, he knew that. He wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about what was happening before him. Then he should apologize…right?

“I-..I’m sorry,” He forced, in his hushed tone it almost sounded genuine. She didn’t bother to look up and certainly not back at him - she didn’t make a move at all. But she didn’t tell him to leave again either and that was enough for him to feel okay with his move towards her. He stood next to her for a moment, glancing down as she continued to curl into herself. There was nothing to be said between them as she cried out whatever was going through her mind, but it eased his mind to be by her through it. And even more as he sat next to her and she didn’t shy away. 

The sheet metal against their backs was cold, even Homelander could feel the discomfort through his suit, but a steady warmth radiated off her body that made the cool night a little more bearable. He looked over at her bare arms and exposed back, trailing the goosebumps that spread across her soft skin where the fabric did not reach. It was clear the temperature was far from a worry in her mind, though it was a wonder if it was also a cause for the tremble through her body. 

Homelander reached his hands around his neck until his fingertips hit the clasps that held his cape to shoulders and collar. He pulled the long piece of patriotic fabric over his back as it came undone in a heap on his lap. 

“Here,” He held out the bunch towards the girl to little reaction. She didn’t look over or even so much as move to see what his offering was. With a sigh he took the liberty to throw the cape over her form, draping it across her shoulders and down her back. She could’ve at least been grateful that he was even trying to be a nice guy.

He waited for a moment for a reaction, a regard of any kind but couldn’t say he was shocked when acknowledgement didn’t come. But as he finally looked back out toward the skyline he caught in the corner of his eye as she moved her hands down to wrap the cape closer around her shivering body. And that was enough for him.  

They sat together in a silence, neither of them pushing a conversation or advancement past their physical presence. It was an odd comfort that neither of them would fess to.

The girl’s cries slowed down being replaced by soft sniffles and sighs. The shake in her body ceased until all was still around them. The sounds were replaced by that all too familiar chaos emanating from street level. Until she finally spoke.

“Why are you still here?” She asked. There was a touch of curtness in her tone though true malice was absent. 

“Why are you crying?”

“Full offense Homelander, what’s it to you?” She shot back. The vitriol in her voice shot surprise through his system, but before he could say anything back she was already speaking again, “You are probably the last person in this entire building to be asking about how I’m feeling. For months you have done nothing besides ridicule me behind my back, roll your eyes at my help, and I don’t even think I have to remind you of the last time we actually worked together. I’m sorry, but I also don't think I need to explain why I’m less than open to expressing my feelings to you.”

She spouted so fast that it took longer for Homelander to even catch all of her words let alone process them. But there were two things he was able to note as she went off and neither had to do with the actual substance of her words. She wouldn’t meet his eye, she stared off into the brightly lit windows of the office building across from them. Her voice wavered as it all poured from her lips, but her confidence was only as strong as her lack of contact. And though her words contained the weight she held in for such a long time, she still couldn’t help but apologize for even saying them. 

That was the girl he knew, the ever people pleaser. 

“I get that,” He replied calmly, as if none of what she said had bothered him at all being that he only caught half of it. She finally looked over to him feeling that his eyes never left her. She searched his face for anything more, any indication that this was an elaborate way for him to hold something over her or if there was an inkling of sincerity in the man. He had never been so agreeable, but there was nothing there to tell her of any ulterior motives. Still, how could she trust that?

“Why are you here, Homelander?” She urged, looking away again. 

He looked over the city with her as he contemplated his answer. Because he was nosy, was that the right answer? It was half the truth. Because he found it more entertaining than what was going on downstairs? That didn’t exactly feel right either. Why was he there? 

“I have nothing better to do,” it was the least he could give her. The least he could make sense of.

She snorted softly, an ounce of a smile ticking up at the corner of her mouth. The statement wasn’t meant to be a joke but her reaction stirred something inside of the man to her side. “There’s an entire party downstairs full of people wanting to be with you.”

“And you think I would rather be in the middle of them?” He spoke honestly, more honest than he’d ever be normally but he could help but have it slip.

She barked a loud laugh, “A chance for people to fawn and admire you? Seems right up your alley honestly.” 

He deserved that one, he knew it. “Believe it or not, I’m not really the biggest ‘fan’ of people.”

“Oh trust me, I believe it,” she scoffed with a sarcastic sneer. She’d been on the receiving end of that very attitude. She learned that the hard way yet still had the respect to keep a smile on her face and her chin up. That’s what rubbed Homelander in such a way when it came to her. She wasn’t just like everybody else, she didn’t comply or shy away. Her case was separate from all others.

“It’s different. You’re different,” He admitted, whether that was good or bad was up for debate between the both of them. He caught the subtle way her body stiffened at his words, but before either of them could think too hard on it he spoke again,  “But that doesn’t matter, this isn’t about me. Tell me why you’re up here crying. Shouldn’t you be brown-nosing with upper management or something?” 

Her shoulders slacked at his tone and words as it returned back to the man she had come to know. Homelander turned his head towards her as his ears caught a sigh of surrender left her, “If I tell you then can we call a truce between us? I’m tired of walking on eggshells.”

He hardly felt a truce was what was needed between them but nonetheless he found himself nodding her along. Another deep sigh left her body as she moved backwards to slump against the wall, her hands gripping his cape tighter to her.

“You were right.” 

He waited for her to continue, his eyes roaming over her form as she still refused to look at him. But as he waited and searched for an explanation, he felt his patience waning.

“Is that it?” He asked with a huff, “That’s not news to anyone.”

The girl laughed softly. A real laugh that lit up her face despite the sparkling of tears left pooling at her eyes. Her smile gleamed the same way he recalled in his memories as they replayed through his nights, too bright and unfeigned. Though in place of the normal annoyance he had felt seeing in the past, a warm comfort hugged his chest. 

“Sorry, I know that wasn’t meant to be funny,” she shook her head and paused for a moment. Her brow furrowed ever so slightly in the silence. The crease in her forehead accentuated the words that were stirring in her mind. Her hesitation was clear but Homelander kept himself silent until she found exactly what she wanted to say, he was curious. 

“You’re kind of an asshole, you know that right?”

The man’s expression wiped from his normally prideful face. Maybe it was the setting, maybe it was her emotions that were already shot, but it seemed her normal respectful and reserved manner had disappeared. Her honesty and lack of care had taken him aback and made him even more interested in what else she had held back, what other thoughts floated in her head, how could he know more? Her hands moved down her form until they rested on her lap, the cape hanging loosely over her bare shoulders. She calmed herself before speaking again, seemingly relaxed further that Homelander hadn’t come back at her with anything to tense the air any further, which was truly the real shock.

“Tripp never actually had any interest in me.”

Homelander thought for a moment, her words hanging between them. Who? The girl looked over to the Supe sitting next to her when no rebuttal came or even a move to respond. For the very first time in her presence, the man looked genuinely confused. Not even an attempt to appear knowing. 

“The guy back during your press round. The one before you…you know.”

Oh.

“The shitty interviewer?” Homelander absolutely never even bothered to know his name. Figured it would be something equally as inept as him. He seethed that you were on a first name basis with the little shit.

“We had been seeing each other since then, I should’ve seen the red flags every time he asked if he could come by the office but I just thought it was sweet. Maybe he wanted to see me so much that he couldn’t wait. But with me being new I always told him it wasn’t a good idea.” She sighed and swiped her hand across her cheek, embarrassment creeping through as she continued, “This morning I invited him to come with me tonight and he seemed excited, asked about the chances of me introducing him to the rest of The Seven. I told him it would be hard because I don’t work with any of you anymore.”

She shook her head, the glistening in her eyes returning as a pitiful laugh escaped her body, “Long story short, once he knew that then all bets were off. Told me if I couldn’t get him closer to you all then there was nothing in it for him. That I was useless to him.”

The girl pulled her legs closer to her body as fresh tears slipped down her blushed cheeks. Soft sniffles came from behind her crossed arms as she hid her face between them. 

Homelander’s jaw clenched. He knew that guy was nothing but a prick, how could she be so naive to put investment into something like that? There was absolutely nothing that guy could’ve offered her that would’ve been worth anything. She was supposed to be smart. 

“You said it best, anyways” she continued quickly, “For once I wanted to feel…wanted, I guess. I’m new to this city, to this job, I feel like I’ve done nothing but mess things up since I’ve been here. Everyone ignored me. A-Train called me stupid the minute I messed up his coffee order and you…you hated me the minute I walked into the room! I came off so badly that Starlight had to give me pep talks in the bathroom. But I still tried and nothing ever got better. Then after the incident with you, Homelander, I was done.”

She was blubbering now, her feelings all resurfacing with each word she choked out through tears, “I was going to quit. You were right, I was useless and it was embarrassing the people I admired so much thought I was annoying . And then when you had me moved, honestly there was a part of me that only took it because I wanted to prove you wrong. But really I was just trying to find that reassurance that I was capable of something. Anything.”

Homelander sat, his mouth slightly agape at the words that poured from her body. She hugged her legs tightly against her chest as sobs filtered into the night. There was a lot more behind that bright smile then met the eye, that was for sure. His words and attitude were meant to disrupt her, every snide remark or glare was truly from the depths of his irked soul. But hearing their effect didn’t bring him the sanctimonious delight that he wanted. The pressure built on the girl until she was inches from breaking, that’s what he wanted, wasn’t it?

“Wait,” Homelander said, “I didn't have you moved.”

“What?”

He shook his head, leaning his elbows onto his knees as he recalled her words, “I never asked for you to be moved. You thought I would help you get a job? After everything I said?”

She wiped the tears from her face, “I thought you just wanted to get rid of me, honestly.”

He huffed a laugh, “If I wanted to get rid of you then you wouldn’t be around anymore. At all.”

That was true, it wouldn’t have even been questioned if he asked that. But despite how much the girl stirred irritation within him, he never thought to get rid of her before her time. If possible it felt this time he may have actually done the opposite of what he really wanted. He may have pushed too far. The days gone by without her around agitated him more than when she was constantly badgering around the conference room. Not knowing where she was, what she was doing, who she was with, what she was thinking. He wanted to know more. He wanted her around more.

He wanted her. 

“I guess I should be grateful then.” She pulled the cape off her shoulder, exposing her back to the night chill once again as she folded it against her lap. Homelander’s eyes dragged down her body without a thought, he had forgotten the jeweled gown that hung off her body. It glittered under the moonlight just like the remaining tears that lay unfallen in her eyelashes, complimenting each other. 

“But anyway, you asked why I was up here so there you go.” 

That’s right. The reason for the tears. Because someone thought that they could break her down and throw her away as if it were nothing. As if there were no consequences because she was just too nice, too wide eyed. Funny thing about repercussions, you never know where they could come from. 

“Who cares what that prick thinks anyway?”  

“You think the same thing, “ she let out a breathy laugh, “you might be more alike than you realize.”

Well that was obviously not true, Homelander thought. That asshole was just a guy, nothing like him at all. He was different. That’s what he wanted to say, but for once he mulled over his words before he spoke. He craved this interaction with her, just the two of them, her walls down and open. He couldn’t have her shut him off, not again.

 “Listen, I've been a dick, I know. You’re capable, you said it yourself. You’ve already proved it.”

She stopped tracing the finely stitched stripes over the cape to look over at him, her expression showing disbelief at what her ears were hearing. “Wow, that was actually sort of nice, Homelander”

Homelander searched her face for a moment, “call me John.”

“What?” “My name is John” He repeated. He pushed and tested the water further, how far could he get before she pulled away from him again? His hand slowly reached to rest over the vibrant red and white of his cape that lay over her thigh. “You don’t need some asshole to tell you that you’re anything. You’ve got friends at Vought, people like you in your office, you've got friends, and some great ideas you’re working on.”

She stared down at his hand touching her over the layers of fabric between them. How would he know all that? He was never around to see how she interacted and certainly none of her ideas or meetings ever got back to him, why would they? Though despite the implications, his words were strangely but heartwarming. 

“You know all that?” She asked, looking back up to meet his gaze. He nodded only to stop abruptly when he realized his slip. He had been watching her, his keen superpowers coming in handy it seemed. If she knew that there was no way she would ever speak to him again, he fucked up even when he was trying not to. But despite his certain thoughts, a small smirk appeared on the girl’s lips. Her hand rounded her side and rested gently over the Supe’s gloved one that still lay gently over her leg. Her fingers slowly wrapped around in a firm squeeze. A friendly gesture that was certainly not expected. 

“Thank you,” she spoke. “Listen, I know you have a lot of pressure on you, more than I can imagine. I get why you are the way you are, even if it’s off putting. So, John, want to spill some feelings on me? Seems like a good start to a friendship here.”

For once he liked the way his name sounded on someone else’s lips. On her painted, glossed lips. It made him feel more important than any headline could. 

“I dont know if I would go that far,” he laughed authentically for the first time in a long time. A new flush form on the girl’s face. This time not one of embarrassment or sadness. 

“You know you’re not so bad when you let people actually have a conversation with you. I actually really liked this, thank you”  They sat there for a moment, hands still in each other's grasp, basking in the feeling of whatever new union was between them and all the unspoken thoughts of what it meant or what it didn’t. The only things that were certain was that Homelander wasn’t going to let her far out of his sight from now on and anyone who wronged her would be thoroughly dealt with. One before the end of that very night. 

The girl took in a deep breath next to him before standing slowly, her dress cascading down her legs as she let go of Homelander’s hand, “We should get back.”  

His eyes watched her as she wiped any makeup that may have smudged out of place and fixed her hair until it sat perfectly at the crown of her head. That sugary scent of her perfume caught in the wind and wafted over him, filling him with craving instead of agitation. But that would have to wait. “I’ll be down in a minute.” 

She looked down at him, a smidge of worry wrinkling between her brow, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just want another second before shaking a hundred more hands,” he smiled at her. It was a familiar smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, one that simmered something else behind it. But as he moved to tuck a wayward hair behind her ear, ease filled her veins. Whatever was on his mind was for him alone.

“Fair enough, I don't envy you,” she admitted, sharing a smile back. Though hers much more genuine as she looked over the Supe, “I’ll find you in there later for a picture of my own.”

Homelander listened to her giggle at her own joke as she turned to make her way back towards the staircase to rejoin the party downstairs. They shared one last look over her shoulder until she descended and disappeared below his view. His smile disappeared immediately without her presence. He had one thing to take care of before he could attempt to enjoy any part of his evening with his newly kindled whatever. 

There wasn’t a chance he would let someone hurt what was his and he would make sure that was known to anyone that dared.

[sailorkamino]

Heat of the Moment

relationship: alpha!stucky x omega!reader

word count: 3.4k

summary: You've haven't been with Bucky and Steve for very long but you already know that you want to be bonded to them. The opportunity comes sooner than later when Bucky suddenly goes into rut for the first time since the 40's.

warnings: body insecurities(bucky doesn't like his prosthetic/scars), threesome/poly relationship, p in v sex, knotting/abo dynamics, dom/sub dynamics, possessive stucky, breeding kink, handjobs, fingering, some cum play, oral fixation/finger sucking, brief vagina spanking, breast play, unprotected sex, biting, mentioned oral sex, metal arm kink, praise kink, pet names(doll, puppy, angel, peach, pretty girl, sweets)

a/n: the much requested part 2 of happy ending! this is also my 1st full length smut. i've been hesistant to write smut bc i worry about the pacing, i would love some feedback!

smut! minors dni

Bucky is a little, well, clingy today. More than usual.

When you giggle at your phone he’s suddenly poking your sides with his socked feet. “What’s so funny?” He asks with a pout. “Just a meme of Stevie,” you hum, typing a response. Meanwhile the blonde focuses on his crossword (he’s long since given up understanding internet humor). Bucky frowns as he sits up, feeling left out. “What’s a me-me?”

You grin as you boop his nose, “you’re so cute. It’s called a meme and a funny picture or video from the internet.” You show him the blurry image of your boyfriend with a glass in his hand. He appears to be in the middle of talking, with his mouth curled up in a goofy smirk while winking dramatically.

Under it was a bubble of text from you that read: “omg is that when Thor brought Asgardian mead?” That’s when he sees the contact at the top of the screen: a picture of Natasha with the name ‘Red Scare’ below it. And a kissy face. Suddenly the me-me doesn’t seem as funny anymore.

He’s quiet for a moment before suddenly wrapping you in his thick arms, pulling you against his chest and laying down. You squeal in surprise but giggle as he places loud kisses against your face, his stubble tickling your skin. He smirks in satisfaction when he notices your phone dropped on the floor. Steve watches curiously. He's known Bucky long enough to spot the thinly veiled jealousy but says nothing, simply enjoying your shrieks of laughter and the other alpha’s satisfied scent.

Later that day when the blonde announces he is going on a run (because even on a lazy day he has to exercise) Bucky is not happy. “Do you remember this morning when you asked me to stay in bed? And I told you if I stay in bed now I’m gonna have to run later?” Steve asks as if he’s talking to a child. Bucky grumbles, curling into your side like a large cat.

You kiss his head while scratching his back. Your attempts to sooth him seem to work as he winds his mismatched arms around your waist. Your other boyfriend smiles at the sight and is just stepping out the door when Bucky speaks up.

“Will Sam be there?”

The deep growl in his voice has you (embarrassingly enough) clenching your thighs in an attempt to hide your sudden arousal. You hope they won’t notice but of course they do. You feel their burning gaze fix on you for a moment before they try to mask their reactions. You had yet to do anything beyond heavy petting together, Bucky is very bodyshy thanks to Hydra and you and Steve don’t want to pressure him.

You watch the blonde clench his jaw before managing an answer, his voice sounding strained. “No, he’s busy with Tony. Something about upgrading Redwing.”

Bucky responds with a simple “good” before leaning in to nibble on your earlobe. You shiver as Steve blushes, obviously affected by the possessiveness in your partner’s tone, before hurriedly exiting the apartment. You suppress a smirk at the thought of Captain America himself trying to hide an erection in those grey sweatpants he insists on wearing.

After about an hour of restlessness Bucky manhandles you into his lap, making you gasp in surprise. A teasing smirk plays on his lips, “why don’t we give Stevie a little show when he gets home?”

You nod embarrassingly fast as his lips descend upon yours, a little rougher than usual but you love it. Eventually his mouth pulls away from yours, making you whine in protest but it turns into a moan as he trails kisses across your jaw and neck. Suddenly the omega part of your brain starts nagging you: nest. Nest. Nest.

You try to focus on Bucky but being the annoyingly perfect alpha he is, he quickly notices your conflict. “Hey, what’s wrong, baby doll?”

You pout, not feeling like talking and really just wanting to kiss him again, but he holds you in place by grabbing the back of your neck. You can’t help but whine at his grip. You feel his cock harden under you but he remains stern. “What’s. Wrong.”

That time it doesn’t sound like a question. You start playing with his hair, not knowing how to explain yourself. “I don’t know. Can we… go to bed? It’s comfier.

Bucky wants to hit himself. Of course! Omegas like soft things! He glares at the couch under you, planning to buy a new one as soon as possible. It’s not good enough for you. Without a word he stands with you in his arms, making you cling to him with a suprised squeak. He looks at your favorite blanket for a moment before grabbing it as well, carrying you both to your bedroom.

____

When Steve opens your suite he’s almost knocked down by the scent. It’s you and Bucky but stronger. And sweeter. He can hear you two talking now in hushed voices. “Alpha’s home,” Bucky giggles, followed by kissing noises. Despite the need rushing through his body Steve grins. His mates are adorable.

He stalks to your bedroom, swinging the door open a little too roughly. You jump at the loud sound. Steve wants to apologize but he’s too distracted by the gorgeous sight in front of him. You and Bucky are tangled up amongst the softest pillows and blankets you own. You’re still in Bucky’s pajama shirt you were wearing when he left but you’ve lost your sweatpants, leaving you in lacy blue panties.

“Why didn’t you call me?” He asks, a protective growl in his voice. You pause, a confused pout on your lips. “I’m sorry, I thought it was ok for us to do stuff alone” you mumble, scent becoming distressed. Alpha’s upset with you. Normally you would have no problem sassing Steve but you’re feeling especially sensitive today and don’t like his gruff tone.

Bucky pulls you closer, wrapping you in a blanket and sending a disgruntled look to Steve for upsetting you. The blonde shakes his head, trying to clear his mind. “What? No ─ that’s not what I meant. I love seeing you and Buck together, you never need my permission for that. Or anything.”

You peer at him from your spot tucked against Bucky. “Oh… then why did you sound all growly?”

Steve runs a hand through his short hair in exasperation. “Do you not realize what’s going on?”

You crane your head to look up at Bucky, who seems equally puzzled. “We were kissing…” he trails off innocently. “I think you two are scent blind,” the blonde grumbles, finally approaching the bed. “You’re in rut,” he states, pointing at Bucky. “And it’s sending you into heat,” he points at you.

You furrow your brow. “But it’s not my team for my heat yet.” You look at the brunet quizzically. “When’s the last rut you had?”

“I don’t know, before the war I guess?”

You let out a sad whine as you nuzzle into his neck. Steve takes his boyfriend’s hands with a pained look on his face, “oh, Buck.” Suddenly, insecurity creeps into your mind. You pull away from Bucky’s hold to meet his eyes. “Wait, is that the only reason you want this? Because of your rut?”

“Of course not, angel. I’ve wanted you since the second I saw you.”

“What took you so long!?” You whine, offended at the thought of being deprived of Bucky dick for so long. He lets out a sad sigh, avoiding eye contact. “I was afraid of losing control and hurting one of you. Plus my arm… it ain’t pretty.”

You feel your heartbreak at the confession. Steve’s face turns deadly serious as he cups his boyfriend’s face. “Buck, look at me. You’re beautiful. I’m just as attracted to you as I was back then and I always will be. Nothing will ever change how I feel about you, alpha.”

“Exactly. I actually find it kind of sexy,” you purr, stroking Bucky’s jaw line. You watch with satisfaction as it clenches under your feathery touch.

“Doll…” He trails off, obviously not convinced.

“I’m serious. A super strong arm that never gets tired? That’s straight out of a wet dream.” His gaze grows darker, making you shiver. “Really?” He asks lowly. You crawl into his lap with an affirmative hum. “I’ve thought about how good your arm would feel when I’m in heat. How nice and cool it would be against my body.”

Steve watches the two of you closely, overcome with affection and lust. Watching you comfort Bucky reassures what he already knew ─ you’re perfect for them. “Yeah?” Bucky whispers. “Yeah,” you purr, lips brushing his. “Knot me, alpha. Please.” Steve licks his lips, voice rough when he speaks. “Don’t make our girl wait, Buck.”

Something in Bucky seems to snap as he rolls you over, pinning you under his body. “Tell me what you need, pup.”

“Wanna feel you,” You whimper, tugging at his clothes desperately. He rumbles a “good girl” in approval then sits up so he’s straddling you, pulling his shirt off over his head. You try not to drool as your hands wander his sculpted body, fingers running over the thin trail of hair that leads to his bulge.

Steve grabs him by the back of his head, smashing their lips together. You feel your panties dampen at the sight. You reach out to the blonde’s shirt (that’s still on for some reason) and pull gently, hoping that will send your message. He pulls away from Bucky, looking down at you with a smirk. “Need something, peach?”

His dominant tone has you squirming but Bucky’s strong thighs hold you in place. “Off,” you simply demand, looking up at him through your lashes. He grins, discarding both his shirt and his pants. You hold back a whine at the sight of his perfect body, tugging him in bed so you can kiss him too.

“I think you’re a little overdressed,” Bucky teases gruffly as you and the blonde pull apart. You’re about to sit up to help him take off your top but a loud rip makes you freeze. “Sorry doll,” he grunts, not sounding very sorry as he discards the torn fabric, hands going straight for your breasts. “God, these tits.”

Steve nips your jaw. “Don’t apologize. She liked it.” He grabs your cheeks in one large hand, making you look at him. “You love how strong our alpha is, don’t you, peach?”

“Yes, yes, I love it,” you babble, gasping again when Bucky does the same thing to your panties. “Oh baby doll, you’re so beautiful. Look at how wet you are,” he muses, kneeling between your thighs so he can slowly rub your clit. He uses his metal hand to hold down your hips as begans to finger you. “Need you, alphas,” you whimper, a new wave of heat crashing through you as Steve plays with your swollen nipples.

“I know, I know, pretty girl, but I gotta stretch you out first. You’re so fucking tight,” Bucky groans. He scissors his fingers inside of you until you're arching off the bed, shoving more of your breasts in Steve’s face. “I’m ready, I’m ready, please,” you beg.

Bucky growls, taking off his underwear in one swift motion then goes back to kneeling between your thighs. He pushes your legs into the air so he can rub his cock against your hole. You gasp at the size. “Tell me if I hurt you doll.”

You nod desperately. “I will, Buck. Promise.”

He smirks at your neediness, finally pushing in with a deep groan. You whimper at the fullness when he bottoms out, heavy balls resting against your ass. He studies your face, making sure you aren’t in pain. Normally you would coo at his sweetness but all you can manage is a whimper of, “please alpha.”

Bucky growls, thrusting into you so hard the bed shakes. He’s borderline feral from going so long without a rut as his hips snap against yours. “Good girl. Just lay there and take it” he growls roughly. Both you and Steve moan at his words.

You notice the blonde jacking himself off beside you and clumsily put your hand over his. “Aw, you wanna make me cum, sweets?” He pants. You nod desperately as Bucky grunts above you. “Cum on her tits.”

Steve obeys, moving so he’s kneeling beside you with his large dick pointed at your chest. You continue to twist your hand around him, sighing lovingly. “I really love your cocks.” Both men chuckle breathlessly at your words. “So good for us. Isn’t she, Buck?” Steve coos, looking at your other partner.

“The best. Our perfect mate,” Bucky praises gruffly. You preen at his words. Suddenly you twist off the bed with a loud moan as he hits your G spot. “There, there! Don’t stop!”

“I don’t plan to,” Bucky pants, lifting your hips so he can angle himself even deeper inside of you. “That’s right, pup. Fucking scream for me.”

“I’m gonna cum,” Steve groans, twitching in your grasp. “Make a mess on me,” you whimper through labored breaths, peering up at him. With a growl he releases on your chest and face. You use your tongue to lick away some of his cum as Bucky grunts above you. “You want my knot, pup?”

“Please, I want it so bad,” you whimper. The sight of you pleading, covered in your other partner’s seed, is enough to push him over the edge. “Cum for me,” he commands gruffly. Your orgasm hits you hard, making you cry out in pleasure as Bucky fills you up. You whimper as the brunet leans over you but it turns into a gasp when he sinks his teeth into your neck. The sharp sting quickly fades to ecstasy.

You're overwhelmed as you feel the bond form between you, simply whining into warm skin. He gently kisses the small wound, nuzzling into you. Steve watches with soft eyes. “Come on, sweetheart. Why don’t you be a good girl and bite him back?”

You’re filled with a new rush of energy as you angle his head to the side, placing your own mark on him. He moans in your ear, “oh doll, I can feel ya.” You sigh happily, pecking his shoulder. “I feel you too, Buck.”

He rumbles happily before rolling the two of you over so you’re spooning. You whimper as his knot is jostled inside of you but it turns into a content sigh when he throws his metal arm across your sweaty body. Steve moves to get up, making you whine in panic. He coos soothingly, “aw, it’s alright peach. I’m just getting a rag to clean you up.”

____

You start to get restless as Bucky’s knot goes down inside of you, squirming as the familiar need washes over you. “You need to be fucked again, sweetheart?” Steve asks, trailing a large hand to your sex. He groans at the sight, “oh alpha, her hole is just leaking.”

Bucky growls possessively, rutting into you unexpectedly. “Don’t want my cum dripping out of you, puppy,” he grits out against the shell of your ear. You whimper helplessly in his strong hold. “Don’t worry Buck, we’ll keep her full,” Steve soothes, cupping your pussy. “Then when she needs a rest we’ll fuck each other.”

You whimper at his filthy words as Bucky growls behind you. “I get to fuck you first. I missed that tight ass.” He kisses behind your ear, “you wanna watch me bend Stevie over? Make him cum untouched?” You clench around him at the mental image. “Yes, please.”

Bucky hums against your skin. “But first, Steve needs to bond you, doesn’t he? I think you’re ready for another knot.” As always, he’s right. Your tummy starts fluttering in anticipation. “I’m gonna pull out,” the brunet announces, squeezing your hip.

Before you can protest you’re suddenly empty. You can only whine for a moment as Steve rolls you over on your back. Once he gets you into position he wastes no time thrusting his cock inside of you. You squeak in surprise as his thrusts rock your body, making Bucky coo. “Fuck, you’re big,” you whine. Steve smirks proudly, “you can take it, sweets. You were made for us.”

You whine at his words as Bucky descends onto your breasts, still sensitive from Steve’s earlier activities.

“Am I hitting your sweet spot, pretty girl?” The blonde grunts above you. You can tell by his smug tone he already knows the answer. “Yes, so good,” you mewl as you fist one hand in Bucky’s locks. His beard scratches your sensitive skin, quickly soothed by his warmed mouth.

“Fuck, I love these tits. Imagine ‘em when she’s pregnant,” Bucky growls against your heated skin. He’s too far gone to have a filter at this point but you love it, a high pitched moan leaving your lips. “You like that peach? Wanna be knocked up by your alphas?” Steve pants.

Your head is too fuzzy to respond, overwhelmed in the best way. Bucky gently slaps your clit at your lack of response, shocking both you and Steve. You clench around his cock at the light sting. “Answer your alpha, doll,” Bucky demands. You whimper. “Yes Stevie, I want you to knock me up,” you manage, looking to the brunet for approval.

He rumbles happily as the man above you slams into you even harder. Bucky runs a thumb over your swollen lip. You instantly kiss the digit. He smirks as he gets an idea, shoving two fingers in your mouth. You began to suck on them with a content look on your face.

“You just needed something in your mouth, didn’t ya, baby doll? I would let you suck my dick but I don’t wanna be in Stevie’s way when he bite’s ya.”

“After,” you manage to respond around his thick fingers. He smirks, the scent of pleased alpha making your head spin. “Ya hear that Stevie? Our pretty ‘mega wants to suck us off.”

“You’re gonna look so good on your knees, peach,” Steve growls above you. You can only whimper at the filthy promise as a familiar pressure begans to build in your stomach. “Gonna cum,” you mewl around Bucky’s fingers, spit running down your chin. “Me too, sweets. You gonna milk my knot?” The blonde growls, hips snapping against you.

Bucky pulls his wet digits from your mouth and uses them to rub your sensitive clit. “Go on doll, make a mess,” he urgers. The stimulation is all you need to push you over. Your arch of the bed with a gasp. The blonde continues to hit your g spot as your legs tremble, before he cums inside you with a growl. He bends over to bite you under Bucky’s mark as his seed drips down your thighs.

____

You lay on the bed, feeling physically and emotionally exhausted from bonding with two super soldiers. Your mates move around you to clean you up and tuck you in. They grab any pillows or stuffed animals that fell from your nest and place them around you.

Steve fetches you some gatorade as Bucky curls up behind you. When the blonde returns he makes you sit up, despite your multiple protests, to sip on the healthy drink. “Good girl,” he praises, petting your head. You grin at his words as you sink back into your pillows. “Rest now, princess. When you wake up it’ll be time to eat,” Bucky croons sweetly in your ear. “Then I can eat you.”

You whimper as Steve joins you in bed. “Don’t get her excited, she needs rest,” he lightly scolds, wrapping around you protectively. Bucky looks at his boyfriend teasingly. "I know, that’s why I’m gonna fuck you while she rests.” You pout. "Wanna watch,” you protest drowsily with a yawn. Steve pets your hair soothingly. “Of course, sweet girl. We’ll wait for you ─ won’t we, Bucky?”

Bucky peers at him through dark lashes. “Yes, alpha. I’ll be good,” he coos, only half jokingly. Steve’s cock twitches against your soft thigh. “Tease,” he growls. He only smirks in response. Enclosed in their strong arms and comforting scents you let yourself drift to sleep.

[cerealyoam]

POV: you’re fucking overworked

**

Prompt: You’ve been running around the house, demanded to do one too many chores all at the dissatisfaction of the people you live with. The Genshin men catch whiff of this.

A/N: nearly cried while writing this, long overdue!

**

Scaramouche

has seen you brutally exhausted the past couple of days.

Your tone of voice has changed, you look lost in thought whenever you’re around him, and a multitude of other things - he simply can’t not notice.

he figures maybe you’re working a bit too hard, and should just let it all pass.

In fact, weren’t you a grown person? You should be able to handle these things, right?

that is, until you got worse

he saw you less, and less, and whenever he did see you — had he managed to drag you out of the confinement of your home — you were on edge, irritable, and overall not the person he knew

He’s taken it upon himself to figure the fuck out, why you’ve been so distant

Your date has just ended, it’s around 4pm, and you’re hit with the loud, recurring noise of your phone’s ringtone.

Scaramouche, standing right next to you, is already fucking frustrated. He can’t figure out why you’re so tired, and it’s not like you’ve dropped any coherent hints anyway. So he decides to discreetly listen into the conversation from right next to you.

His blood boils at the noise.

“Hey, where are you?” The person on the phone says. “Come home quick. We need you to take care of things while we’re out.”

Scaramouche notices the way you grimace. “I’m out right now, I can’t.”

“We don’t care, no one’s at home to do the work and you’ve been doing a terrible job the past week. When are you going to take charge of your responsibilities and stop being so careless?”

The voice gets louder and louder as the conversation progresses, and you slowly begin to lose your patience. “I can’t just leave right now, I’m—“

“It doesn’t matter. If we don’t see the house clean by the time we get back, cross my fucking heart, Y/N, you’ll feel the wrath of it.”

“But I—“

“—Ungrateful, careless child.”

The phone hangs up.

You want to throw it across the fucking floor.

Alas, there’s nothing you can do. Yet again, they haven’t given you much choice. A sigh escapes you, and you pocket your phone. “I’m sorry, Scaramouche, but I have to go—“

The sight of his face shakes you to your core.

“Who. The fuck. Was that?” He asks, his voice calm, and careful, but his expression far from it.

You gulp, feeling intimidated. “It’s my family, they’re asking me to head home and take care of some stuff.”

“Ask?” He laughs, like this whole thing is a fucking joke. “Didn’t sound like asking to me. Sounded like they were fucking forcing you into it.”

“It’s my responsibility, though, I can’t just leave it,” you respond. There’s a tightness in your chest as you defend them — you know, deep down, they’re in the wrong. But they’re leaving you with no choice. You can already hear the punishment in your head, in great detail. You can hear their words reverberating in your ears.

“No fucking way, it sounds like they need to take care of their own responsibilities instead of thrusting them at you.”

Scaramouche, grabs your hand, and tugs you along. “You’re not going anywhere. If they call you again, I’ll fucking talk to them myself. Stupid fuckers. I can’t believe they’d take advantage of you like this.”

You have the rest of your date.

Eventually, scaramouche gets you to move out of your home. If things spiral out of control, he’s already on their tail to make them fuck the hell off. Will make sure they never bother yo again.

Supports you financially, too, til’ you can pay him back.

Well, he says you’ll be paying him back, but there’s no way that’s ever coming into fruition.

***

Kaeya

Will notice from the very moment your demeanour changes

You may think you’re able to hide things when you want to, but there’s always a slip-up and kaeya always stares it down.

Won’t ask you about it at first, hoping you’ll come to him eventually, but you never do.

It isn’t until he happens to look over you while you’re messaging them, that he starts getting serious

You’ve received messages from them basically listing the chores you’re in charge with as soon as you get home, and all the previous feelings of happiness from hanging out with your boyfriend deflate.

Rereading the messages don’t make you feel any better, but now there’s an ache in your chest, wondering what would happen if you forgot, or didn’t do all those things by the time they get home.

“What’s that?” Kaeya asks. He’s already read it, though, while you’ve been sulking.

“It’s nothing serious, just my work for the day,” you respond, sighing as you quickly type out a response.

Kaeya nudges your shoulder. “That’s a pretty long list of things to do,” he leans over, scrolling up through the previous messages, skimming them before you can stop him. “They treat you like this? Do you even get paid?”

“Hah, I wish. Then i wouldn’t hate it as much.”

You’re about to hit send, but Kaeya suavely slips the phone put of your hands, tucking it into his pocket.

“Hey!” You jump, hands not sure where to touch to get it back. “I was about yo—“

“And I’m afraid you won’t be able to,” Kaeya smiles, his hand now trailing down to your fingers, intertwining with them. “What a shame. Now, where were we? I was going to help you relax?”

“What? Kaeya, we—“

“To the salon it is, darling.”

Convinces you to move in with him, get a small, manageably sized apartment for you two to live in. Chips in with housework, will never overwork you the way your previous roommate did.

**

Itto

a bit of an oblivious duck

has no idea how bad you’re feeling until you start cancelling plans on him

Thinks that maybe he’s done something wrong, so ends up at your front door to apologize for whatever it is he did

Discovers he isn’t the problem here

Your doorbell rings, and you’re snapped out of your cleaning frenzy. Your housemates get to the door before you, though, and you feel worse, wondering if that’s the groceries they’ve ordered, waiting for you to have to organize all those things in their spots.

You can already feel an ache setting in your muscles, but you choose to stay in blissful ignorance until then.

However, a familiar voice startles you from your stupor.

“I’m here to see Y/n, are they home?” Itto asks, boisterous and loud.

The person opening the door, to your utmost dread. “No, they aren’t. Who are you? What do you want?”

“Oh, we’re super close. Didn’t they talk about me? The great Itto?” Itto laughs, unaware of the clearly uncomfortable tone from them.

“They’re busy, so you can leave.”

Out of curiosity, you approach the door, and Itto spots you immediately from the corner of his eye.

“Y/N!” He yells, turning to wave as he towers over them. “There you are! We need to talk. Wow, you look exhausted — why did you say they weren’t home?”

“I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” your housemate tuts, ready to close the door shut in his face.

“Hey, wait! I need to talk to them, it’s important—“

“Didn’t you hear me?! Leave, before I—“

You jump in, frantic. “Hey, hey, it’s okay, I can talk to him—“

“You go back to your work and keep your nose out of it,” they whisper-yell, and you’re realising just how much the punishment will hurt as soon as Itto leaves.

Not wanting things to escalate further, you wave to itto and retreat back into the kitchen.

“Wait! Y/N!” Itto yells again.

He’s never seen you this tired out before. Heck, he’s realising just how long it’s been since you last had time to go out with him or his friends.

“You can’t talk to them like that!” Itto pushes against the door with his arm, his strength blocking it from closing further. “They said it’s okay. Who are you to dictate that?”

Even with the stubbornness of your housemate, itto pries open the door and invites himself in. No way is he going to let you go after this.

He calls after you again, finding you in the kitchen. You were trying to hold back tears. Of what? You didn’t have enough mental room to figure it out. Tears may have streamed down your face already.

Itto’s hands are out, unsure of whether to touch you or not. Eventually, he settles for holding your hand, gently leading you out. You follow.

“Hey, they’re in the middle of work! Who the hell do you think you ar-“

Itto shoots them a glare that shuts their mouth right up. He thinks its the least angered thing he can do.

How dare they treat you like this? You deserved so much better.

Though, he breathed in, and breathed his anger out. He wouldn’t want you to see him so uptight when you’re clearly the one trembling in his arms.

You’re led ot of the house, to a quiet place a few ways away — Itto made sure his gang kept your roommates out of it — and finally, you sit.

Itto will sit there, comfort you as long as you would like.

Will start talking to the roommate. Him and his gang scold the fuck out of them, no matter their age. If they don’t start improving, Itto will take out his savings and get you to move into a house with him, instead. Wants to make sure you’re safe, not mistreated.

“They’ll realise they’re worthless without you, hah, I hope they regret everything they did to you.”

**

Diluc

notices you feeling extra jittery lately

You’re restless, upset, and look frazzled, distracted, like you’re trying hard to hold on

Very concerned at your occasional outbursts, from small little things

It isn’t until one little thing he asks of you puts you in a full on stress-attack

“Hey, darling,” you hear diluc say from the dining hall as you walk down the stairs. “Could I ask you to pick up some of the papers from my desk? The ones with ‘dissertation’ written with red ink.”

You’re caught off guard, feeling your hands stiffen by your sides. Nonetheless, you figure it’s harmless, and reply that you will before heading for his office.

You see his table piled up with different papers, and your hands start to stiffen again. Before you realize it at all, your hands bunch up together, you stand at the doorway, struggling to take it all in. There’s so much, and there’s so much you’ve been doing, so much you still have yet to do.

Yet, you persevere. It can’t be that hard to find the papers, right? They’re in bright red ink! Yeah. You’ll get through this.

Rigid as your body moves, you make it to the table. You try not to take in the clutter — your body starts to feel cluttered on the inside, like you’re stuffed full of cotton and scrunched paper and your mind can’t take it.

You’re scared.

Why are you scared?

The list of things continues to grow in your mind.

There’s this, then that, then that other thing you’re behind on, and the thing you’ve been meaning to do for a while now, then…

You start shaking.

You don’t realise you’re shaking, because you stand there, your thoughts going ballistically fast, one after the other, so cluttered that all it does is stuff you even more with cotton.

“Darling?” You hear, and whip your head around to see diluc standing by the entrance, worry stretched across his face.

He seems to take in your shaken state, the way your hands have bunched up at your chest and your breathing getting steadily more erratic.

He calls your name, making his way to you.

The room is too messy for you to think.

You can’t think.

You close your eyes, try to breathe, find any semblance of order in your racing mind…

Diluc comes to you, his hands on your shoulders. “What happened? Is everything okay?”

The words come out sounding wrong. “I don’t… I’m… I can’t find the papers, I can’t find them—“

“Darling, no, it’s okay, they’re just papers, I can find them later,” diluc protests, but you only seem to stir further.

“Why am I feeling like this? It’s just some paper, why am I so— so restless?”

“Perhaps you’ve been pushing yourself too hard,” diluc responds, his hands slowly falling to hold your head against him and wrap you in his embrace.

“But I haven’t done what I needed to! Why am I so tired?”

Diluc was no stranger to overwork, hence your words hitting him like a brick. Is this how others felt when they saw him burnt out?

“Come, darling,” he breathes, soothing you by playing with your hair. “I’ll get Adelinde to send for some tea. Let’s go to the lounge and talk, okay?”

[lazulirus]

A lot of wine, not enough of love

•  A drunk mind speaks a sober heart - you heard of that many times, but never expected to see an example in form of Lucifer.

• Pairing: Lucifer x reader (gender neutral) • Genre:  Fluff • Word Count: 2.1k • Warnings: Metion of alcohol and being drunk • Note: soft Lucifer propaganda never dies • Reference to chatrooms: Demonus Tasting (1235) Bittersweet (Lucifer)

"Hooooon', please~ let us iiiin!" The whines of Asmodeus are never-ending and so high pitched it makes you wince. 

"It's ain't fair.” You swear, you never heard Leviathan so annoyed and whiny at the same time.

“We wanna see drunk Lucifer too!" Slurs Mammon while banging on the door. 

"Yea! And take som' photos for Devilcam!" 

"Or blackmail." chimes Satan, not drunk at all but gladly taking the opportunity. 

"Yeaaah!" Mammon agrees with another hit on the doors. 

You got used to dealing with the brothers, sometimes they were a bit overwhelming or pushy, but you always managed. After months of living with them, calming them down, cheering them up, and overall managing their emotions was a piece of cake. But now, three of them were drunk and even from inside the room, you could feel the sinister aura collecting around Satan - honestly, what Lucifer was thinking when he agreed to drink with those three? 

The culprit ignores your annoyed glare, sitting in the armchair, a glass of wine in his hand. You don't question how and when he got his hand on more alcohol, at this point, you're just amazed that he still wants to drink - without you, he barely walked straight.

"I spend so much on that fancy Demonus, I wanna reco- rec, rec…" 

"Recompensation." 

"YEA, that!" 

"Heard that?" Satan muses, and you know that tone all too well - his patience running thin. "Asmodeus will be very sad so… Let. Us. In." You never were so happy that Lucifer put the curse on his door. Despite that, you still felt the need to lean on them, as if your strength could compete with demon's. 

"You're gonna hate me anyway, so... Mammon, Asmodeus, Leviathan, Satan, go to your room and don't get close to Lucifer's till, hm…" just to play it safe, "next afternoon." You don't understand words that fly out of Satan's mouth, too drowned out by the whines of drunk demons, and can only hope the curses he tries to put on you aren't too harmful. The footsteps quickly surcease, and it was almost unpleasant to suddenly be in such silence - it was cut short by music. You glare at Lucifer, but quickly your gaze softens when you see how happy he was to listen to his records. Still…

"Turn it down, I'll get a headache from all those noises." The demon pouts but obeys, and you can't shake the feeling that your roles have been reversed. And just like Lucifer, you couldn't stay mad at the cute, pouting face of a person you love so dearly.

"They get you drunk on purpose, didn't they?" You ask as you hold Lucifer's face in your hands, his cheeks warm from the alcohol. You guessed you could allow yourself for much more when he's in such a state, when the avatar or pride visibly melts in your hands, and a stupid, soft smile spreads on his face. 

"No, I wanted to drink too." 

You wrinkle your nose on the stench of alcohol in his breath. He pouts. 

"If you don't want to talk to me, then don't." He turns his head, yet doesn't move from your hands. It was impossible to react with anything other than a smile. 

"You're so cute." He glances at you. "And very handsome with that blush." Lucifer nods softly, smiling again - you barely hide laughter. 

The sooner you get Lucifer to bed the better, he will get a hell of a headache anyway. You inform him of that and straight yourself, taking away your hands from the demon. You wonder if it would be okay to leave him be for a moment to get him some water and painkillers, or maybe you can do it after getting him to sleep… Whatever your choice would be, Lucifer made sure you were unable to do neither - it was only a blink of an eye when you appeared on Lucifer's lap, your legs hanging off the chair's arm. Your startled gaze was met with one of a very annoyed demon, yet it was hard to be scared when such cute blush adorned his face. 

"I don't want to go to bed." You look at him puzzled. "I want to spend more time with you, is that so selfish of me?" 

Now, that was a side of Lucifer you never expected to exist, let alone to see. You wondered what was going through his head - but there was nothing but pure adoration for you. How you went to his rescue when you saw his brothers' shenanigans, the softness of your hands and the plush of your body - he adored it all. He adored your voice that made such a delightful squeak when he nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck. Now, he wanted to be as close as possible to you, bask in the presence that awoke in him such warm feelings. 

"I love having you here with me like this…" His lips brush on your heated skin. "You always turned down my invites to drink Demonus with me, always a new excuse… Why don't you drink with me now?" Now it was time to wonder that maybe you were the one drunk, and all of that was hallucinations. There was no way that the stoic, proud Lucifer would… would… Your face could match the shade of Lucifer's - both red as the most beautiful roses. But even if you liked it, maybe even craved more, you knew it was wrong. When you comb his black hair so softly and ask for him to move, only then does he back away - evident hunger in his eyes. 

"You're drunk." He frowns, not understanding. "You really had to drink a lot, right? You're acting out of character…" You put your hand on his cheek, and he leans into it. It was so cold next to his heated skin, a calm, grounding presence. "Do you even know who you're talking to?" Maybe he was the one out of his mind, seeing a different person in your place.

Lucifer smiles in the way you saw thousands of times, corners of his mouth lifting delicately, not enough to wrinkle his skin and bearing mischievousness. 

"Of course I do." Lucifer takes your hand into his, you didn't notice when he lost the gloves. "I'm talking to our dear human." He kisses your hand. "The one that tries so hard to get my attention." His lips graze your knuckles. "The one so sweet and kind, so tempting." Each of your fingers are graced with a kiss when you only watch in silence, dumbfounded. At that moment, you couldn't tell if it was a reality or a dream, it all seemed too surreal. The humming of blood in your ears and heart filled with love suggested the latter, but… if it was a dream… you wished it never ends, because you knew Lucifer would never act like that again. 

Your laugh was awkward yet heartful, filling Lucifer's heart will with the same lovely feeling. 

"I wish I could have you like this without the alcohol."

He didn't understand, you could have him like that, you had him all of this time. Nothing Lucifer said to you was new, those weren't words meant for another nor blurred out in the spur of the moment - it all was swarming in his head every time he saw you. The evenings he spent imagining your embrace were countless, and it would be embarrassing to admit how often he thought of the brief touches you exchanged - from the accidental brushes of your fingers to fixing each other's clothes. It was those little things that made him daydream for so long he didn't notice the recording he was listening to had already ended.

You had him for so long, he couldn't get out of your clutches and yet you wanted more? Lucifer chuckles, between you two, was he really the demon? 

"Now, let's go to bed, okay?" 

"What a tempting offer."

“One more word." Lucifer spent too much time with Asmodeus to your liking, it was bad for your heart. "And I’ll make you drink Hell Coffee.”

“I’m sure it would be very bitter.”

“I’m not sure if I love or hate that smooth-talker side of yours.”

You get off Lucifer, and he instinctively follows you, not having enough of you. But now, he was content with watching as you take off his tie and unbutton his shirt just a bit - enough to see your flustered face. You mumble something about how uncomfortable it would be to sleep with a tie, but Lucifer barely listens, already thinking of how nice it will be to sleep next to you. 

It would be foolish of you to think you could escape the grasp of the needy demon. His docile demeanour was only an act, plus he gained a bit of your praise which was a nice addition, and when you got him into the bed you quickly joined him. Your yelp was music to his ears, your presence was more addicting than any alcohol, and your body was better than any pillow. It had been so long since Lucifer hugged someone to sleep. 

You sigh, but give up on fighting back, instead you pet his soft, black hair and watch in delight how he still melts with even a bit of your touch. How his body relaxes and shoulders drop, how his eyelids seem to be as heavy as lead for him. 

Lucifer does his best not to close his eyes, worried that if he does this beautiful dream will end. 

"Hey… how much did you drink?" You whisper, your warm breath hitting his throat. 

"A bottle… or two… why?" 

"So you won't remember a thing, huh." You muse inching closer. Before Lucifer can ask again he feels your lips, brushing his forehead softer than wind, followed by the words that moved him to the core stronger than any earthquake:

"I love you, Lucifer."

In the morning, he remembers. As he sits in his bed, Lucifer remembers everything - from the tips of your fingers on his face to your warm lips on his forehead. He touches the place when you graced him with a kiss, and only then does the realisation hit him - you love him.

Your "I love you" repeats in Lucifer's head over and over to the rhythm of his frantic heart, like an echo that drives him mad, yet he doesn't want it to ever go away. You care about him, and it brings out such powerful feelings he was startled. Because he, too, cared about you. He, too, wanted to pepper your face with kisses, watch you blush and fluster, and turn your eyes away. But he wanted that when you'll take him seriously and not dismiss it as alcohol talking through him. 

And he, too, wanted to take care of you when you're at your lowest, just like you did. How long has it been since another being gave him love that seems so unselfish? There was fear, that maybe it all was for something. But if you wanted something from him, you would use his drunken state instead… 

Lucifer couldn’t take the heat, it felt like not only his cheeks and ears were burning, but also his heart itself. The memory of each kiss and each touch that overflowed his mind created a fire that the demon couldn't control. The poor, tired brain was so overwhelmed that it barely registered a knock on the door and his own voice letting the guest in. 

"Lucifer… oh, are you having a fever? Do—" The oldest doesn't hear a word, just blankly looks at the cup of water and pills, painkillers probably, that moves from Beelzebub's hand to his nightstand. "—so they asked me to bring you water and painkillers." 

"They…?" 

"Hm? Yeah, they had to do something at RAD today, and they were worried we won't take care of you when they're gone or something… I'm hungry… I'll go now, Lucifer." Beelzebub quickly leaves the room, blaming the sluggish, weird state of Lucifer on the hangover and quickly moving his thoughts to food. Meanwhile, the oldest looks at the closed doors, imagining if you were the one to come to him and take care of him.  Then, all the embarrassing things he did came crashing down. How demanding, needy he was, how visibly he craved all your attention. The demon groans as he runs a hand down his face. Saying that Asmodeus added aphrodisiacs to his drink as a prank might be a good excuse…

[tomanpeach]

the daddyfication of ran haitani

a/n: 18+!!!! nsfw!!! i got this request for hiding a pregnancy from ran and went cuckoo bananas this is gonna be multiple parts OOPS!!! please enjoy!!! ((for context, this is in the same world as boyfriendified ran!!))

content: unprotected sex, shower sex, mentions of vomit, pregnancy, lil bit angsty!!!

word count: 2.6k

ran's pacing in his office, exerting a significant amount of energy trying not to appear visibly upset by your phone call. across the room sat rindou and kakucho, who he'd been having a glass of whiskey and a nice chat with to celebrate the end of the work week before you called.

"baby?" your voice reminds him he hasn't responded to you yet.

"uh," he forces out the sound. "sure. that's fine. no dinner tonight. what did you say's goin' on?"

"i think i have food poisoning," you sigh, clearly exhausted. "i've been throwing up since i got home. they catered lunch at work today, maybe it was that."

"i should kill that caterer for ruining a night with my girl."

he's no more than 70% serious. probably.

you laugh into the phone and he turns his back to his brother and kakucho so they won't see the way he's smiling at the sound.

"thank you for that, but it won't be necessary. can we try for date night tomorrow?"

"'course," ran nods his head, hoping his tone didn't give away how disappointed he was to not be seeing you in the next hour like he'd planned.

"you sound sad," you sigh. he should've known you'd see right through him, you knew him better than anyone. "i'm sorry, baby. i'm sad about it, too."

"it's alright, babe," he starts back toward his seat. "really it is. i'll call you later? love you."

he hangs up and drops back into his chair, lifting the whiskey to his lips. rindou gives him a curious look. "my girl's got food poisoning," he explains simply, reaching for the bottle. "anyone up for another round?"

------------------------------------------------------------------

the food poisoning leaves you feeling a bit weak for the rest of the weekend, waves of nausea occasionally hitting you, but nothing as serious as when you'd called off friday date night.

you take it easy throughout the week, even calling out of work the next friday to get an extra day to really rest. ran takes the day off, too, so you can spend a whole long weekend together. and by friday morning, you're feeling good. so good that you're happily pressed against the cool tiles of the shower wall as ran thrusts his cock inside you.

the wet sounds of your pussy contracting around him are drowned out by the water running from the shower head, and you only hear ran's heavy, panting breaths because they're right in your ear. "fuck, you're so wet for me," he grunts. "look how easy i'm goin' in. love bein' in this tight little cunt."

"m-missed this so much," you whimper, nails digging into his back where you're holding onto him. it's only been a week since you'd last had sex, you wanted to be cautious about exerting yourself after being so sick, but even one celibate week for the two of you felt like months. ran chuckles in your ear, loving knowing that you long for moments like these the same way he does, and speeds up the motions of his hips.

you cry out, voice carrying through the apartment. at this angle, every stroke has his tip striking a spot inside your velvety walls that's making your head spin. "fuckin' cum around me," his words come out through gritted teeth. "squeeze my fuckin' cock the way i like it. need you to cum."

he hoists you up a bit higher on the wall, shifting your body onto one arm so his other hand is free to seek out your clit. as he rubs against the sensitive nub fervently, it hardly takes another minute before you're unraveling, toes curling, moaning loudly as you cum.

"shit, just like that," his hips stutter, the feeling of your slick cunt shuddering around his length always bringing him right to the edge of his own orgasm. your moans are only getting louder as you get more sensitive and the continued drag of his cock in your walls threatens to be too much for you.

"too much, ran," you whine. and just like that, his hips still for a moment as he releases in hot ropes deep inside you. he fucks his hips up a few more times, pumping his cum deeper, mind going a little cloudy as he comes down from his own pleasure. you squirm in his arms, kissing all over his face as he gently pulls out and sets you onto your feet.

"stop cumming inside me, perv," you tease after you've caught your breath. ran throws his head back and laughs.

"yeah right," he steals a quick kiss. "you love it too much."

you giggle and roll your eyes, reaching for the shower head so you can start cleaning up the mess he made between your legs. ran offers his arm to you for balance as you get to work.

suddenly you don't feel good at all. it's like a switch flips, the feeling coming over you so quickly you almost panic, shoving the shower head into ran's hands and almost slipping in your hurry to get out of the shower.

you barely make it to the toilet before you're heaving. the shower turns off behind you, followed by the sound of ran's wet feet on the tile. he wraps a towel around his waist then drapes one over you, rubbing your back through the fluffy material in absolute silence.

when the nausea passes, you flush the toilet and tug the towel tighter around your shoulders. your legs feel like jello, you doubt you have the strength to stand. so you plop to your butt, sitting cross legged on the floor and looking up at ran where he stands beside you.

finally, he clears his throat to speak. "was that my fault somehow??" what the fuck just happened?" he looks like a deer in headlights.

"how would it be your fault?" you smile weakly, reaching out for him.

he doesn't return the expression, but takes your hand, squeezing tightly. concern is written all over his face, mixed with something else you can't quite read.

ran plops down onto the floor beside you, examining you with too much intensity. he lays the back of his hand across your forehead, frowns, and drops it into his lap.

"stop looking at me like that."

"are you kidding me? i'm fuckin' worried about you," his eyebrows knit together. "one minute i'm fucking you in the shower, next minute you're throwing up, i'm not supposed to be a little fuckin' concerned?"

"you're yelling."

ran hadn't noticed. he usually didn't when he got emotional. it was something he'd been trying to work on, now that he had a girlfriend he loved and had been dating for just over a year. keeping himself in check was never very ran, but he tries his hardest for you. he inhales a sharp breath, forcing himself to calm down.

"i guess i'm still sick," you finally say.

"no way it's food poisoning then," his eyes narrow, skeptical but concerned.

"then what it is?" you sigh, pushing off the floor to try and get to your feet. ran jumps to help you up and you shrug him off, a bit too roughly by accident. "i'm fine," you snap. he stares at you, trying to read your mind. he decides not to comment on your sudden out of character hostility.

"we should get you some fuckin' medicine or somethin," he walks out to the bedroom. "get dressed."

you suck in a shaky breath and follow him into his room. he tosses a pair of your jeans onto the bed from his closet. then a t-shirt. you can't tell if it's yours or his but it'll work. you pull it over your head and toss the wet towel to the floor.

ran gets himself dressed while you step into the jeans and tug them up. you hesitate, blinking back at yourself in the mirror. the pants gape open at the waist, making you frown in confusion. what the fuck... why are they so... tight...

you try only once to fasten the button but give up immediately when the denim refuses to give. this was absolutely not the moment to find out you'd gained weight. like there wasn't enough making you feel like shit today. ran's weird fuckin' attitude, your stomach betraying you, the way the room hadn't stopped spinning since you'd stood up... it was all too much for one day. you don't even realize you've started crying until you hear your own choked sobs fill the room.

ran is frozen at his closet, watching you with wide eyes, and you feel so fucking stupid, bawling in his bedroom for no apparent reason, in your undone jeans.

"what's wrong?" he asks cautiously, approaching like you're an injured animal. "you don't feel good?"

"i-i don'wanna w-wear je-e-eans!" you wail, collapsing into his arms. he holds you tightly to his chest as you cry, rubbing your back but not saying a word. large hands cup your cheeks and ran presses his lips to your forehead. he looks you in the eyes, "you do not have to wear fuckin' jeans." for some reason the tenderness in his eyes, the patience he's showing you through this outburst, it just makes you cry harder. this time, though, he laughs. you hold him tightly around his middle as he reaches down to slide your jeans back down over your ass and down your thighs.

at that moment your stomach flutters. a warning.

"oh fuck," you shove away from him, kicking off your pants frantically and running back to the bathroom to throw up yet again.

------------------------------------------------------------------

this time, though, it doesn't stop. in fact, your vomiting just gets more persistent. ran is pacing through his apartment–no, he's practically jogging laps with how nervous he is– cursing wildly at a very patient emergency services operator who was completely undeserving of being caught in the crossfire of his panic.

"babe, do you need a fuckin' ambulance?" ran appears in the bathroom door, hand covering the lower half of his phone. you respond in a weak mnh, shrugging your shoulders before your head is back in the toilet. "yeah, send it over. pukey's not gettin' in my fuckin' bugatti." despite the way your body is violently rejecting the contents of your stomach, you manage to scowl at him. "i'll pay. i love you so fuckin' much," he mouths, eyebrows drooping apologetically.

if you didn't feel so awful, you probably would've laughed. ran was, after all, agreeing to pay $2500 for a fifteen minute ambulance ride so he wouldn't risk getting even a drop of something gross on the interior of his precious car.

the longer your nausea persists, the more time seems to blur together. it was somewhere between 10 minutes and an hour when ran came in with sweatpants and pulled them up your legs. and another 5–55 minutes later, the EMTs arrived to help you out of ran's apartment.

you send ran a look that you hope says this is so fucking dramatic and then you're in the ambulance, ran right by your side.

the emergency room nurses quickly assess your situation (looking rough, actively vomiting into one of the ambulance's barf bags) and hurry you into a room. an iv is started, a pill is swallowed down. you quickly start to feel normal again.

ran stands threateningly in the corner with his arms folded across his chest, saying nothing. a nurse comes in to run some tests and promises that a doctor will be in soon to talk with you. as soon as you're alone in the room, ran is at your side, sitting at the edge of your bed protectively.

"maybe it's just plain old sickness," you lay your head back against the pillows, exhausted from the events of the day but grateful to be having a conversation without getting sick in the middle. "stomach flu or something."

"fuck that," he grimaces. "i hate bein' sick, you better stay away from me."

you roll your eyes at him, "like you would ever let me if i tried." he flashes you a grin, adoration in his eyes. he takes your hand that's resting on the mattress, bringing it to his lips. your hand tightens around his when you feel him trembling.

"ran."

his eyes meet yours. the concerned, fearful look you'd seen earlier has been clouding his face since he made the call to the ER.

you squeeze his hand, kiss his knuckles, "why don't you go have a cigarette, honey? you're so tense."

"my fuckin' girl is in a hospital bed," he replies through gritted teeth. "of course i'm fuckin' tense."

"i know, my love, but look! i'm okay," you soothe, hoping your face is convincing enough. "i've got my fluids, they did their tests. i'm already feeling much better. you're shaking, hon. go have a smoke, feel better, and by then i'm sure we'll be ready to head home."

ran eyes you warily. the last thing he wants is to be away from you right now. but he had to admit, you knew him really fucking well. you could tell his anxiety was heightened tenfold because he hadn't gotten his nicotine fix in the last couple hours with everything going on. with a heaving sigh, he leans down to wrap you in his arms tightly.

ran wasn't a hugger usually, so you relaxed into the rare embrace, savoring the action. "this is nice," you mumble, tone nearly teasing. "fuck off," he grumbles, kissing your forehead. "i fuckin' hate this shit. i hate you being sick, hospitals fuckin' scare me. i-"

"ran," you chuckle.

"fuck, fine! i'm going."

almost immediately after ran leaves the doctor comes in. she's an older woman with light hair and kind eyes. "how do you feel?" she asks sweetly.

"much better," you tell her with a grin. "but i'd really like to know where that came from."

"was that man who left your husband?"

you shake your head, "my boyfriend." weird question, you think.

"are you sexually active?"

you nod, not particularly enjoying this line of questioning.

"do you practice safe sex?"

"like, uh–" you clear your throat.

"do you use protection?" she clarifies. your silence is enough answer for her.

"any mood swings lately?" she continues. "weight gain? headaches? fatigue?" your head starts to swim. "when was your last period?"

holy shit, when was it? was it late??

"the blood test shows that you're pregnant," she pats your knee. her reaction is ambiguous, you can tell she isn't sure if a congratulations is in order or sympathy.

"are you sure?" you blurt. "like, how sure are you?"

"pretty sure," she almost smirks. "we can run another test on your bloodwork for a more precise answer and call you with the results. you can take a home test in the meantime, too, if you'd like."

you nod weakly. she tells you the nurse will come in to discharge you but you can barely hear her.

pregnant.

the word is pounding around in your skull like a pinball machine. your hands feel clammy. pregnant. it would explain a lot. the throwing up, getting annoyed so easily with ran, the jeans, the crying over the jeans...

the door opens and you jump. it's ran, smiling as he comes in, looking much more relaxed than before. your heart sinks. what the hell were you going to say to ran??

"you okay?" he asks, grin fading.

you nod enthusiastically, "yeah! it's just a stomach bug. i was right."

the relief on his face makes you feel even worse. "i'm glad it's nothin' serious," he comes over to kiss your forehead. "you had me fuckin' worried."

"sorry, baby," you tug him down to sit in the bed with you. "thanks for taking such good care of me." he pulls your face closer and kisses your temple, "don't thank me, come on. you're my girl. m'so happy you're okay."

but you didn't feel okay. not at all.

part 2

[tteokdoroki]

your wife’s calling. | t.amajiki. ʚ !! ɞ

❧ ; SYNOPSIS. overworked and under appreciated, there's only one person pro hero suneater can turn to in his time of need— that person being his irresistible, charming little assistant, aka you.

❧ ; cpu characters. tamaki amajiki x fem!reader.

❧ ; word count. 1.9K

❧ ; genre + rating. pro hero!au, dilf!au, fluff, smut, 18+, minors do not interact !!

❧ ; game warnings. - proceed with caution !! reader is in their twenties, older!tamaki, smut, age-gap, cheating, exhibitionnism, unprotected sex, fingering, handjobs, creampie, sir/mister!kink, praise!kink, spit!kink.

❧ ; streamer commentary. everybody say happy ( belated ) birthday to @yourlovemaze!! i hope you have an amazing day and thank you for commissioning me !! everyone else, pls enjoy this fic eee!! special thanks to @prinvil beta reading !! enjoy <3 m.list. + tip jar.

“your wife’s calling, mister amajiki,”

eyes in the shade of eminence look up from a mountain of paperwork and the pro hero feels a blistering heat in warmer shades of colour run down his spine and straight to his cock just from the sight of you.

his personal, adorable assistant.

and tamaki’s missed you around the office, so much, having kept himself buried in patrol reports and intern files instead between your plush thighs and soft chest that spills out of the tight satin blouse that you wear— the one you know pro hero suneater loves so much. “w-what is it that she wanted?” tamaki asks, voice failing to stay even as his gaze drops from your chest to the meat of your thighs, his mouth watering then.

“she called earlier asking for your new card details, she wants to buy herself a purse and something for your son since she missed his birthday last week,” you explain through pouty lips, tone sultry and smooth— echoing through the room as your hips sway and sashay their way into the seasoned pro’s office. “i told her you were busy with work but she just kept calling,” you stop right in front of amajiki’s desk, leaning forward, eyes darkening in a familiar and lustful way— voice dropping an octave until his ears feel like they’re filled with honey even when you whine through your next words.

“what should i do, mister amajiki?”

oh boy and does mister amajiki recognise that tone of voice, the look on your face that reads ‘fuck me, sir.’ in a thousand different ways— all of which he’s seen before. you always start your games like this, try to play the innocent and coy assistant, until tamaki’s all riled up and has fallen right into your trap.

but he never seems to care, doesn’t give a damn if he’s losing to you.

“h-hang up,” he says quickly to avoid the guilt, the anger he has for himself for giving into his assistant yet again. you do as you’re told, ending the dial tone to his wife’s call yet again and before either of you know it, the sexual tension has blown its top and your lips are smashed together in a sloppy, forbidden kiss.

tamaki amajiki should feel awful, he knows, practised and experienced fingers used to save the lives of civilians tearing through the buttons on his assistant’s— your shirt. but his wife, she’s awful.

his scarred hands, worn down from his practice as a hero, trace along the curve of your breasts— thumbing where they meet your ribcage while his tongue runs laps around the heat of your mouth— amajiki’s wife a distant thought in his mind. his wife, god what was her name, he can’t remember it when he’s mewling yours against your strawberry tongue, licking up saliva from your cherry lips. his wife, a woman who’d used the purple haired hero for nothing but his money, tied him down with a son who was but a year or two younger than you.

and you, were his sweet little intern that had stolen tamaki amajiki’s heart from day one— with a youthful smile and a fresh, cutely rounded face that made him feel loved where his wife had not, where the admiration your eyes held when looking at him had stolen his heart from the hands of mrs.amajiki as you whisper his name while he pushes up your tight pencil skirt in a way that makes him feel young again.

tamaki’s movements are rapid but carry the experience of a married man as his thumb presses to your swelling clit, the pressure he applies creating a delicious drag against the hood— making you quiver and dig your nails into his milky flesh. “m-mister amajiki! s-sir! please let me have you,” you beg even though you don’t have to—legs spreading for the silver fox on your own accord, desperate to have his fat cock inside you just like always. “need you tama,” you try again, teary eyed and hungry while your smaller fingers reach down and grasp at his painfully hard dick. “always need you, tamaki.”

the pro hero keens into your touch as his chest bristles with pride and you easily break through the barriers of tamaki’s pants, the softness of your palm meeting his shaft first. digging your thumb into his slit, he whines your name in broken syllables which still form the prettiest song you’ve ever heard. “you’re so pretty tama, i love you, tama.” you tell him earnestly, jerking him off to your own tune, hand growing sticky as you squeeze amajiki’s cock and swipe up any precum before it drips down his balls— the thickness of his arousal staining your knuckles an opaque white.

he can’t help but drool from his mouth and his cock, how lucky is he? seasoned pro hero suneater, tamaki amajiki with the world’s prettiest girl— no, his girl— and her hand around his cock, making the pleasure stack up high in his lower stomach. “p-princess, i-if you keep doing that, ‘m gonna...gonna c-cum!” amajiki squeaks, tongue rolling from his mouth and back into your heated one as you share a messy kiss, scared he’ll smear his cum against the inside of his boxers as if he’s still a teenager in high school. that’s how good you make him feel, how young you make him feel. “stop,” he pleads as his body starts to tremble. “p-please, wanna cum inside!”

the next few moments are a blur, as soon as you let go of tamaki your back is pinned to his sturdy oak desk and your legs hooked around the elder man’s waist— knick knacks as gifts from his wife thrown to the floor, your soft skin against scratchy papers and cool plastic biro pens but neither of you can think to care. not when your boss’s cockhead presses wetly against your sweeping slit— puffy and fluttering with undying arousal just from teasing him a little. no, you’re both far too hungry, dying to get a taste of your forbidden fruits while you dance in the garden of Adam and Eve.

“f-fuck, princess,” amajiki chokes on his throaty moans, tail end of his words falling as whimpers into your ears when he leans over your body pressed into the desk. purple hair tickles at your neck while he pushes his dull tip through your sticky sweet and honeysuckle folds, messing them up with globs of his thick precum. “i love this pussy, fuck, i love you.'' the pro hero whines and it sets your whole body ablaze to see an established hero just like himself crumble above you, close to tears before he thrusts his fat cock into you without warning— all the way up to the hilt. “this pussy makes me do bad things p-princess...s-such bad things…oh god!”

as always, your walls welcome him, selfishly sucking amajiki down while your cunt blossoms for him like a flower. you’re so warm and wet, soaking his cock in your essence as the blue and throbbing vein on his underside brushes against your own sensitive spots. “w-what kind of bad things, mister amajiki?” you manage between hard rolls of your boss’s hips into yours, slapping skin on skin filling the air along with the desk rocking beneath your joined bodies as tamaki finds his pace— overwhelming your youthful body; marking you again.

the purple haired hero dissolves into curses and shudders the deeper his cock plunges into your pussy— lewd squelching sounds echoing through his thin office walls while he commits them to memory and erases any thoughts of his wife from his mind. it’s all about you, you, you. and the unbelievably tight cunt you have, a ring of white foaming on his lower shaft, dripping down his balls heavy with cum.

“b-bad things like ruining you,” the pro hero stutters ou, dirty words (muffled by his face in your neck) barely heard over your small bleats of pleasure and the rustling paper beneath your ass and back— probably soaked through with smudged ink by your sweat and oozing arousal. “d-defiling you, taking your fucking innocence and keeping it.”

pulling tamaki back by the roots of his midnight sky hair, touched with silver strands from the moon, you yank him down to your lips— rolling your strawberry-tongue over his, sucking on his while he fucks you until a string of drool connects you in a different way. “then do it tama, take me.”

you’ve got him wrapped around your finger, playing pawn to your dangerous game of lust and love— but tamaki doesn’t care, not when he’s balls deep inside you, thrusting so hard the desk might give out as your breasts bounce softly with the force. his wife, his family, his reputation as a hero is nothing compared to you, you are his heaven on earth.

your words have tamaki’s length twitching along your insides as he bullies them, bulbous and red hot tip bruising your cervix and shaping your insides to fit him and only him. he lets go of the desk behind your head to brush a thumb over your bottom lip, pulling it down to spit into your open mouth and he kisses you before you have a chance to swallow— sloppily thrusting his tongue into the warmth of your mouth to the same pace as his cock into your velvet, heated cunt.

“t-ta—maki! oh, tamaki, ‘m close...so close!” you squeal hiccuping as his tip bleeds precum against your g-spot, battering it, bullying it until your eyes are crossed and you’re seeing stars. “y’so good m-mister! no one can fuck me like you, mister a-amajiki!”

“s-shit, you’re s-squeezing me so tight, princess. my god,” tamaki’s thumb, through your mess of lips and mix of arousals finds your clit— the hero rubbing slippery circles into it, knowing that neither of you will last much longer than this. “you’re gonna make me cum.” lifting your hips, you grind up into the hero, letting him rock his dick into the deepest depths of your insides— both of you teary eyed with sweaty limbs as your highs get closer and closer— your moans tied together in harmony and ricocheting through out the suneater agency. “‘m gonna cum inside you, gonna cum inside— mark you up, cum princess, please,”

amajiki pleads you, on the verge of begging but he can’t hold back any more— a hot load of his viscous and potent seed pouring into your tight, little hole, colouring your insides with his mark as the pro hero’s head drops pathetically to your neck, panting out while he rides out his high into overstimulation. the spurts of his seed line your inner walls, cum seeping out of your puffy folds but amajiki doesn’t stop fucking into you until he’s triggered your high. your pretty pussy gushes as much as your body trembles, soaking tamaki’s lower tummy in your sweet juices over and over until you’re spent and practically brainless.

both of you lay together, spread out against his desk like that for moments longer— tamaki’s cock softening inside you while he still dribbles cum and you share soft intimate kisses. he missed you, more than he could ever miss his wife and he’s about to admit so when there’s a sheepish knock at the door.

“w-who is it?” tamaki frowns at his voice break, even more so when he catches you giggling underneath him. “what do you want?”

the voice hesitates, belonging to another one of suneater’s assistants, before it calls out eight dreaded words that makes both yours and tamaki’s blood run cold.

“your wife’s here to see you, mister amajiki.”

[lemonlover1110]

Neighbor

T. Fushiguro

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Summary: Toji's pretty neighbor has asked him to do her a favor, and he complies because who is he to say no?

WARNINGS: NSFW!Smut, Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex (M. Receiving), Creampie, Infidelity

“Mr. Fushiguro.” You knock on the door of his home, hoping for a response. You needed his help and he told you he knew about plumping. His son was home usually by this time of the day so you weren’t worried about disturbing the little guy’s peace.

The door opens and he’s standing there, wearing a tight black shirt and some sweatpants. He smirks as he sees you in your pretty yellow sundress that was maybe a size too small for you since your tits were nearly falling out. He greets you. “Good morning Mrs. Sasaki, how can I help you this fine morning?”

“I know it’s so early and I’m sorry but my husband is out right now and I was wondering if you could help me with my pipes? You used to be a plumber, right?” You ask in a sweet tone, one that always gets you what you want. “My husband is out of town and I don’t have the phone number for the plumber.”

“Right, sweetheart. I’ll be over in a couple of minutes.” He responds and you thank him before walking away, back to your home. You look as innocent as ever as you enter your own home, ready to receive the neighbor who’s planning on helping you out.

A couple of minutes later, he knocks on the door but there is no response. He knocks again, and yet again doesn’t receive a response. The door is open though, so he welcomes himself in. There he hears the shower running, and he thought how weird you must be for deciding to take a shower right in the middle of the day, knowing that her neighbor was coming over and with the door unlocked.

You never even told him where the problem was, but apparently it wasn’t in the bathroom. Toji remained oblivious until he put two and two together. So he goes where he hears the water coming from, and there it was the master bathroom with the door unlocked. Steam was already fogging up the mirror.

“Mrs. Sasaki?” He calls out, and you turn off the faucet. He sees your hand reach out and grab a towel. You open the shower curtain as you dry yourself off, no shame whatsoever

“Mr. Fushiguro, I’m so sorry I just got so hot and-” You excuse yourself as you wrap the towel around your body. He just looks at you, amused. He begins to walk toward you to meet you halfway there.

“You shouldn’t excuse yourself, honey. And you certainly don’t have to lie to me, I��m not as dumb as I look.” He responds as one hand goes to your waist while the other to the back of your head.

“You should have noticed my advances since day one, then.” You tell him before closing the tiny amount of distance between you, putting your lips on his. It begins as a hungry kiss since the both of you are touch-deprived, or have wanted this for a long time. A combination of both.

He tugs on the towel which makes it fall down to the floor. He pulls away from your lips and goes down to your neck. He doesn’t suck, he just leaves a trail of kisses. You get impatient, your hands traveling down to the hem of his shirt and you attempt to pull it up.

He pulls away again and takes off his shirt and pulls down his sweatpants along with his boxers. He was big, at least bigger than your husband. You get on your knees and pump his cock a couple of times before licking the tip and getting his salty precum on your tongue.

You wrap your mouth around most of his length since you knew if you took it all you’d end up gagging. He was too big, so instead you brought your hands up and began to stroke the parts that were left out. You look up at him to watch how his head is thrown back and his mouth is parted.

“S’ good.” He moans. It takes him by surprise when you take everything into your mouth, and you do gag but you’d do it to satisfy him. You might as well give him a great time after lying to his face. He looks down at you with a smile on his face. “What a good girl, aren’t ya princess?”

Drool went down your lips as you continue gagging on his dick. One hand goes up and plays with his balls while you continue moving your mouth along his shaft.

He groans and he gets louder as he nears his release. He ends up releasing his hot cum inside your mouth, the salty fluid hitting the back of your throat. You take his cock out of your mouth and there’s so much cum that some falls down your chin. “That was so good, princess.”

You stand up and he grabs his thumb and collects the tiny bit. He presses his thumb against your bottom lip and you open your mouth. He inserts his thumb and puts it so far back you gag. He’s amused by this.

When he takes his thumb out, he flips you over and bends you over the sink. He runs a finger through your folds, gathering your slick. “You’re so wet, princess.”

“Fuck me, please.” You beg as you feel him teasing you. He just runs his finger down your cunt without even inserting a finger.

“You’re so cute.” He replies. He then fulfills your wishes as he aligns himself up with your entrance. Without a warning he plunges himself into you, causing you to gasp at his size.

“S’ big.” You say. He begins to move slowly, remembering that he can’t be so harsh on you. He has no idea when your husband is coming back. He didn’t want you limping and your husband asking why you were walking weird.

“You’re so good for me, princess.” He praises as he picks up speed. He was surprised with how great you were handling him. You met his thrusts halfway, which made the sound of your skin and his slapping together so much louder. “Who would’ve thought you of all people, would be unfaithful to her husband?”

“Fuck, Toji!” You loudly moan, the amazing feeling of him filling you up being the only thought in your mind. He’s also moaning, your tight pussy wrapped around him was so euphoric.

Heaven knows how many times he touched himself to the idea of this happening. The idea of his hot neighbor coming to him for some help and then ending up getting pumped full of his cum was a dream he had for a week straight.

His hand goes under and he begins to play with your clit. You shut your eyes, trying to handle everything. It was just so much.

“I’m going to-” You tell him, and he picks up even more speed. You were wondering how you'd walk the next day, but that was a problem for tomorrow, not today. You see white and your legs quiver as you come around his cock.

He continues at the same speed. You notice how his thrusts slowly become sloppy and you know how close he is. But you don’t bother telling him to pull out.

He finishes inside you and stays still for a minute or so before pulling his cock out. He turns you around and begins to kiss you again.

He bites your bottom lip before pulling away. “You want more?”

“Please, more.” You answer.

“I’ll give you more and more until you beg me to stop.”

-

“Megumi, hurry up!” Toji yells at his son. For some reason he can’t find his other sneaker. Toji helps him look for the shoe. When Megumi came back, as he sat down on the floor to put his shoes on, Toji thought to remind him. “Alright, remember we’re meeting a baby so you have to behave well.”

“I know.” Megumi responds. When Megumi finishes, Toji grabs his hand and they begin to walk next door to the little family. He knocks on the door, and your husband opens the door and welcomes them in.

You’re on the couch, holding the baby in your arms. You coo at the baby as the three walk over to you. You greet little Megumi, not the same way as before because your hands were occupied so you couldn’t hug him. Toji just smiles at you and you smile back.

“Here’s our baby boy.” Your husband speaks and they both look down at the baby. “He’s our biggest blessing. I really thought I couldn’t have children but I was proved wrong.”

“Really? He looks just like you.” Toji comments as he looks into the baby’s green eyes. The same as Toji’s. “He really looks just like his daddy.”

The worst part of all was that your little one-time-thing with Toji turned out to happen so many other times.

[xxsabitoxx]

Wilting • Ch.1 • teaser

{Muzan x Human (for now) Fem!Reader}

Warnings: toxic behavior, dub-con, forced relationship, semi-forced pregnancy, breeding kink, manipulation, blood & gore, violence, mentions of abuse, yandere behavior

A/N: oh my god, a fic that has 3 whole chapters planned out?! Yep ;-; I got 3 full chapters planned for this little series — possibly more? But for now I’m sticking with 3

Part 1 will take place during Japan's Heian era

There was no possible way this was his home. He was dressed in the finest of clothes, his hair was silky and looked well kept. Not a speck of dirt or grime stained his milky skin. Yet he lived in a run down little cabin in the middle of nowhere? You remained silent, it was this or return to your husband. In the end you assumed there was no worse outcome than death. Oh how you wished you hadn’t been so naive…

“Lay down, I’ll get a fire and some water going for you.” You sat on the small dingy looking mat, your unease making you feel nauseous. The man had too many mysteries that you couldn’t reason with, regardless of meeting him only an hour prior. You had been so lost in thought you barely realized he was already tending to your minor wounds. “It should only sting for a moment.” You didn’t flinch, “I’m used to it, I often tend to my own wounds.”

He didn’t acknowledge you, just continued to work. You couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling you felt in his presence, something was clawing at the back of your mind. His offer still hung heavy on your shoulders. What could his method of making you stronger possibly be? You blinked down at him as he moved on to your other hand. He moved with such skill, he must have done this countless times.

“When did you marry him?” You opened your mouth and closed it, trying to think back to when your life turned into hell. “I think it was about a year and a half ago.” He was wrapping gauze around your hand now. “Hmmm. Do you have any children?” It was a forward but natural question to ask. “I don’t. He didn’t want any.” Muzan seemed a little bit surprised by this, his expression quickly went back to stoic. “So, I take it you’re a virgin?”

“Pardon me?” Your lips trembled, you didn’t like where the conversation was leading. He stopped bandaging you, eyes meeting yours as that same sickly sweet smile appeared on his features. “It’s a simple question.” You didn’t know what to say. You didn’t want to anger him, “I am. He slept with other women in order to keep me from getting pregnant. He said I’d be an awful sight to look at.” You should be numb to his insults by now, but your lips still trembled.

“Is that so?” You half hoped he’d show some sort of sympathy. He seemed absolutely indifferent. He tied off the bandage, but his hands didn’t stop wandering. “Undress for me, will you?” It was a question, he was giving you a choice. At least that’s what you would have thought if his tone didn’t seem so final. You were used to being told what to do by now, so you began undoing the ties to your kimono. Muzan watched with a cold gaze, inch by inch your precious and delicate mortal skin was revealed to him.

You had dark bruises littering your skin, ones that were inflicted by your husband. You kept your eyes trained on your bandaged hands now folded neatly in your lap. Making not one sound when his hands trailed up your arm. “He truly took you for granted.” You couldn’t suppress the shiver that followed. His oddly shaped nails dragged across your skin just right — you hated it. Your kimono was bunched around your waist, if it weren’t for your binding you’d be completely exposed to him.

It was humiliating.

Still, even as his hands neared your breasts, you kept your eyes trained downward. “You’re truly naive. So docile and obedient. You’d let anyone do whatever they pleased…” he fully groped one of your breasts now, a quiet whimper spilling from your lips. “He’s quite the fool you know, I think you’d look absolutely…desirable pregnant.” Red eyes trained down to your exposed stomach.

“Perhaps…before I do anything to make you stronger…you can bear me an heir.”

[dawnwriterimagines]

time, the inevitable: Fezco

Summary: the police come to raid the house just as you’re leaving for Lexi’s play, panic ensues and it’s time to go. it’s not the end yet.

Warning(s): angst, fluff, escape, police, etc.

Author Note: because I hated what they did to my baby boy ash and my man fezco, in the finale episode, I needed to write my own! I hope you guys like it! 

I’m in desperate need of a new laptop, and rent money actually, lol, please help me out guys! I’d really appreciate it. Buy me a Coffee? Ko-Fi, please! Love you guys!

- - - 

It was quiet in the house, save for the light thump of your heels when you made your way from the kitchen back to the bedroom, walking in to retouch your makeup, accidentally smudging it to the side. 

Your eyes met your boyfriend’s in the mirror, he hadn’t been able to keep his eyes to himself since you put your dress on, his favorite color on you, and one that fit you just right. You couldn’t help but laugh lightly, his eyes tearing away to fix the tie he’d been trying to put on for the last five minutes, staring hard into the bathroom mirror, you turn to him with a smile after fixing yourself up. 

Leaning yourself on the desk to look at him, he had a nicely fitted black tux on that was entirely flattering on him, it did make you want to take it off piece by piece and stay home for the night, but you’d been looking forwards to this play for a while. Especially since Lexi admitted she had put you in the play, the two having grown up together, meeting in elementary school, best friends ever since. You had to be there, especially for the piece she had added about Fezco and you into the production. What a sight that would be.

“Don’t you look handsome?” You sauntered over to him, sliding a teasing hand around his waist and laying your head against his shoulder.

He smirks lightly at your presence. “Don’t get nothing started now, ma, we ain’t goin’ no where if you do,” he did always say your touch drove him wild, the tone of his voice almost made you want to test his theory. But, as experience has shown, it was no theory.

You chuckle, kissing the side of his jaw, before rubbing his shoulder, “Don’t worry big boy, now, come on, let me help you with that,” you turn him to you and take his tie from him, he visibly relaxes at that, glad to give it over and you smile with amusement. “I love this tux on you, we should get you more,” you bump his chin lightly, correctly tightening the tie up, looking it over as he shrugged.

“And where else you think I’m goin’ like this?” Fezco questioned, a raised brow and a humored expression.

“Honestly, you don’t have to go anywhere, you can stay right here,” you pull him down by his tie, his grin widening a fraction, your noses brushing together from how close you were. 

“Right here?” he asked, lowly, a hand wrapping around your waist, his lips touching yours, pressing into you, pulling away as you smile, kissing him back.

“Oh yeah, here, and at our wedding, at Ash’s graduation,” you added in, breathing deeply into your next kiss, “All that good stuff,” you mutter out, your hands climbing up to his face, holding tight to his neck to steady yourself as he dared to pull you closer.

Fezco nodded, “for sure, ma, sounds like a plan,” he flipped the collar of his shirt, “I can get used to it.”

You smiled, widely, before hearing someone enter the room, from the footsteps you knew it was Ashtray, the two of you turn to the door as he steps inside, “Yo, ya’ll gon’ be late, so quit suckin’ face and get the fuck out,” he pointed to the door, rolling his eyes at the two.

“Come on, man, chill,” Fez said to his little brother, sighing.

You snickered. “Sounds like you’re trying to get rid of us, little man,” you pulled away from Fez, who sighed, taking the jacket of his tux piece off the rack to finish off his outfit.

Ash makes a face as you walk over to him. “I ain’t tryin’ to get rid’a nothin’, you was all over the place about gettin’ there early, remember?” 

“Relax, the play doesn’t start for another half hour, we’re good,” you said, putting a hand on the top of his head that runs down to his cheek, a loving gesture that you’ve down for years now. 

He calms down slightly, “Yeah, yeah, just don’t come to me when you’re whining about being late.”

“Gotcha,” you hummed, agreeing. “Now, I made you and Faye some dinner for later, in case you get hungry, and there are some sandwiches in the fridge,” you took your earrings from the dresser before heading out to the hall, following after fez as he heads to the front of the house. 

Ashtray follows after you, trailing behind, eagerly. “Cool, so, when ya’ll think you’re gonna be back?” he wondered, curiously. He didn’t exactly want to stay home alone without you both, but he didn’t want to go to Lexi’s dumb play either, he’d have rather order takeout, ‘reluctantly’ curl up to you on the couch with his brother and watch some old movie. But, he could wait until after he supposed.

“The play shouldn’t be more than two hours, really,” you started, thoughtfully, taping Fez on the back, mostly to confirm, to which he nodded. “then, we’re heading to Wayne’s for food with Lex and the others,” you then remembered, turning back to look at Ash, “feeling for the usual from there? Burger, fries?”

Ash held in his own little smile, one that he hoped came off as nonchalant. Although, you always did it, it still meant the world to Ashtray that you’d think of him, even with the little things, “You know my usual,” he shrugged, looking away and making his way to the living room, where he caught sight of Custer, who still sat still on the couch, hardly said much of anything.

Ash’s exterior hardens as he catches Custer saying something, whispering to Faye harshly, the girl frowning deeply before glancing at Ash and looking away quickly, rushing back to the Kitchen, avoiding him. The boy slips a knife off the counter as he passes, having a bad feeling about the man that. A worst feeling creeping up into him that he’d held onto since he entered. He had something to hide, and that was the last thing they needed, someone who was hiding shit while being in a house with drug dealers. Nothing ever went right when that happened.

 And Ash was gonna remind him. 

The boy makes his way over to the man, sitting on the one seater next to the long couch, staring at him, glaring, suspiciously.

The man having been tense since he stepped into the house, but the whole exchange between those two completely didn’t sit right with Ash. Custer gulps, visibly, looking at him, the boy that killed Mouse and broke his nose, he had reason to fear the kid, but he had to act cool for the time being. “What’s goin’ on, man?” 

Ash looked at him, stared. “Nothin’,” he answered simply.

Custer nods, not having it in him to ask something else as he breathes deeply, hands tapping his knees to calm himself. “Yeah, yeah, I get it.” He glances over at his phone, that was on, someone listening on the other side. 

Ash doesn’t say anything more. You notice the exchange a few feet away as Fez walks back to the room to get the flowers he had left there and put on his shoes. 

You glance over at Faye who takes a shaky breath and gulps down some water from her glass, your smile dissipates instantly, it gets eerily quiet in the house now and you know right then and there something’s up. You turn to Faye, fully, and her eyes immediately flicker up to yours, the moment she sees the look in your eyes, she begins to crack. Blinking rapidly, she holds tight to the glass, threatening to break it in her hand, she opens her mouth slightly but then glances to the side and deciding against it.

 She offers a tiny, forced smile, glancing over at Custer, just slightly shaking her head. “Y-You look beautiful,” she stutters out, but then points out the shoulder pin of your dress. “Let me fix that, for you, I got it.”

Faye comes over to you, turning you to face Custer and Ash, you just notice Custer turning away from you and facing the television once again, watching Faye in that moment. Your eyes go wide as you begin to realize what exactly is going on, “Mouse was found,” Faye whispers as she messily fidgets with the pin of your dress, your blood running cold. “Custer’s in with them,” knowing exactly what she means, you felt sick to your stomach, hardly able to breath as Faye pulled back from you, a sure look in her eyes that told you to RUN.

“Thanks,” you breathe, “I didn’t even...realize, it was loose,” you spoke to convince Custer, who’s shoulders visibly relaxed at your sentence, your heart raged with a fire in that moment, you wanted nothing more than to stampede over to that man and choke the life out of him, but apparently there was no time.

“Ash,” you spoke, quickly, trying not to sound too unlike yourself. The boy turned to you, a look in his eye aimed towards Custer that made you understand that he had definitely figured out something was wrong as well. “Help me with, um, Fez’s tux please, babe?”

Fez takes that moment to leave the room, shoes on and flowers in hand, lips turning up in confusion, looking down at his . “my tux? What’s the pr--,” he pauses, expression dropping upon seeing your face and a hand raising to him to stop him. “Ash,” he doesn’t tear his eyes away from you as he calls for his brother, a worried look in his eyes as he notices yours. “Come ‘ere man.”

Ashtray stands, glaring down at Custer before walking off, he goes up to his family, the three walking down the hallway back to the nearest bedroom, “That fucker has got some shi-,” Ash starts, hardly a whisper but adamant, you interrupt him.

“We need to get the fuck out of here,” you whisper, unable to stop yourself from shaking, nothing but fear coursing through you, for your boys, for their future, for what could happen if they don’t leave right now. “Right now.”

Both boys look at you, eyes going wide as your eyes redden, tears threatening to spill, you take a frantic breath, you rush over to the closet, tossing off your heels and grabbing Fez’s coat, “What’s going on, ma?” he questions you, worriedly, keeping his voice at a whisper. “What happened? Is it Custer? Faye? What?” he watches you put on some sneakers, taking out two big duffel bags that you’d usually use for the gym or a picnic.

“Yes, yes!” you answer, before shaking your head. “No, wait! No, they found him. they found mouse, Custer’s with them, and we need to leave, before they get here first,” you turned to your boyfriend with urgency, you can see his heart stop before he curses, fuming as he turned back to the door. “No, no, not now, don’t focus on him now,” you pull him back as he stomps towards the door, ready to rip Custer apart for betraying him, bringing this shit to his doorstep, putting his family in danger. “Look at me, look at me,” you take his face in your hands, you feel his heart beating like that thunder beneath his skin. “We’ve got this. We have to just focus on going, ok? Focus. We’re ok.”

Fezco nods, breathing deeply, taking your hand, pressing it to his lips hard before pulling away and turning to Ash who’s already stuffing a bag with cash and weapons, clothes being layered on top of it. “I got that, man. Look, I need you to do somethin’,” he spins Ashtray around when he doesn’t hear him, “Hey, hey, Ash,” the boy is shaking, hands balled up to keep himself still, but keeps a hard look on his face, breathing harshly. He’s scared, angry, “We’re good, ‘ight. We’re good. I need you to go to your room closet, there’s the attic door in there, you gotta climb up, open it, we’ll be right there,” Fez puts his forehead to his brothers, rubbing the back of Ash neck to calm him down, the two keeping eye contact. “Go, now. Go!” He hands him an empty bag from the closet for his own clothes in the room.

Ash rushes to his room, being careful of not making too much noise for Custer to get suspicious, turning on the room light, eyes widening when he sees the attic door. 

You and Fezco pack the bags as quickly and quietly as you can, you make your way to Ash’s room quietly, taking a handful of important things he’d need from his drawers. And peeking into the closet to see he’s already up there, peering down, relieved there really was an attic crawlspace here, and extending his hand for the bags. “Good boy, Ash, just stay there, ok? Please,” you pass him the bag, he puts it up in the attic, luckily finding a crawl space that could lead them to the roof and out the house. 

But, he frowns when he hears you say that, “What the fuck? No, I’m coming back down to help,” he curses, reluctant to stay here and helpless, he didn’t want to leave your alone. 

“Please,” you sniffle, taking a breath as you didn’t mean to let it slip, “Please, just stay there, Ash, please,” you beg him, before leaving the room before Ash can protest anymore.

You walk back over to the room, knowing that it’s been quiet for a little too long for Custer to not become suspicious, “Not too tight, Ash,” you said, aloud, Fez whipping around to look at you, you nod your head to him and he understands then. “Can you hand me that pin?” you asked, loud enough for Custer to hear.

“Gotchu, ma,” Fezco packs in some of your clothes and his, a few more bills, important documents you knew they’d need, their passports, “Hand me my watch from the bathroom, man?” he played along, making his way to Ash’s room and tossed the last bag up, nodding to his brother. 

You linger in the bedroom for a moment, Fezco coming back for a bookbag he had stuffed with random items, you’d need, he hated that he couldn’t grab anything else but they needed to leave. He shouldered the bag, taking your arm and kissing your forehead softly, “Come on, baby,” he whispered to you, the two of you sneaking out of the room, but Faye catches sight of you two, which makes you both freeze up.

Fezco looks to Faye, already pushing you behind him and towards the closet door, looking down to Faye, a look that begs her to stay quiet, and she listens, her eyes glancing down at the bags in hand.

Faye looks at you both, her lips parted, in surprise but she then looks back at her boyfriend, Custer, then back to you, handing Fez his wallet and she squeezes both of your hands tightly. A goodbye.

You nod to Faye, tears rushing down your face and you take one last look at her before rushing into Ash’s room, into the closet and climbing the attic stairs. Fezco follows behind you, pulling the rope to close it, quietly, it shuts with a light thud, you take out your phone for a flashlight in the dark and look around. 

You focus it on Ash for a second to make sure he’s okay, just something about this night, finding out about Custer ratting them out, you had suddenly had such a bad feeling. You wiped off a smudge on his face, using that moment to gently take the side of his face, he nods, knowing you’re asking him if he’s okay. You looked around the incredibly dusty attic, a forgotten room, clearly, but luckily for you all, Fezco knew every inch of this house. 

Ashtray looks to you, before pointing to a corner, a dusty crawlspace and a hint of light showing, from beyond it, “There.”

Fez puts his hand to the small of your back, “Let’s get outta here.”

You all make your way down to it, Ash going first, being the smallest, the duffel strapped to him, the ground creaks irritant below you all, and your freeze, wincing at the sound before continuing. You both follow Ash and it takes a while, with dusty cobwebs, spiders and dried leaves everywhere, but you force yourselves through a space that could’ve been a chimney. The tree of you rolling right onto the roof, coughing up the dust that rammed its way into your throats, you then look around, eyes widening as you spot the swat truck that had pulled up to the house not too far. No one had stepped out of it yet, luckily and it was too dark to see any of you popping out of the roof of the house but that didn’t mean any of you were out of the clear yet. 

The moment Fezco saw the SWAT truck, he could hardly believe it, of course he believed you the second you said something was up, but seeing it for himself was something else altogether. Who knows what would’ve happened if they stayed in the house. 

“Get your asses over here,” Ash whispers harshly from the side, you and Fezco look over at him and he’s making his way down the side of the house, luckily it was only one floor or this would be a lot harder.

All three of you make it to the ground behind the house, you can hear Custer start to shout, calling from somebody, probably Fez, noticing the quiet nature of the home now. Then you all begin to run, your bags in hand, Fezco’s hand in yours and making sure that Ashtray stays running in front of you both so you never lose sight of him. Running behind the neighbors yards and over the fences, Fezco helping you over the dividers and the both of you pulling Ash over together, quietly to not alert any security systems, sleeping neighbors and such.

You make it over to your apartment complex, running for what felt like hours, you were glad you hadn’t lost your car keys with all the running, you toss them to Fez who catches them and unlocks the car for all of you. You give him a hat that you had left in the compartment box and you tie yours up, taking off your coat as Fezco starts the car. He starts driving immediately, all of you panting, exhausted, shaking from the rush of it all, the image of the police SWAT car still imprinted in your heads.

You turn to Ashtray, reaching over and cupping the side of his face. “You good?” you look to your boyfriend as he drives. “Everyone alright?”

Ash releases a tired, humored breath. “That was fucking insane,” he says, with a laugh of disbelief, you slump against your seat, laughing with him, glad he was at least mentally intact.

Fez stops at a red light, and takes your hand, your turn to him, “Can’t believe we just got away from that shit,” he laughed, scoffing to himself, unable to believe what they just went through, what almost happened to them. “Shit, ma, we got outta there because’a you,” he leaned over, “fuck,” breathlessly, hugging you to him, you take him in and fist your hand into his jacket. “Fuckin’ love you girl,” he kissed you hard, the fear dissipating between all of you now. You were okay.

The light turns green.

“I love you too,” you breathe into him, you reach out behind him, taking Ash’s hand, he looks to you with a smile, his eyes red with relief. “Both of you.”

It was time to go now, go somewhere new. Somewhere better, to start over.

Fezco drives, stopping by the high school, you rush inside and leave the flowers by Lexi’s locker, the note that you and Fez had wrote for her with it, edited down with their goodbyes and see you laters. 

Running back to the car and driving off, Fezco and Ashtray look to you and grin, thinking of the life they can choose now with a fresh start. Leaving the small town they’d grown up in. They could go anywhere, maybe going off to the countryside, maybe to a farm, maybe to a high-rise city, the plan wasn’t clear but it was ok. 

They had the time.

[bitchlessdino]

and they were roommates

A svt.hub collab

Pairing: camboy!chan x gn roommate!reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 2.2k

tags: mutual masturbation, nipple play, dirty talk

Summary: Wanting sex is a natural feeling, it just so happens that gratification could be found in the next room with a shitty webcam and an infectious laugh.

author note: so I hope you guys are liking the collab so far. its been in the works for a while and this has been one of the most fun projects i've had in a while since i get to meet so many new writers. I was in a harsh drought for a while and I'm just glad this collab sparked up some interest in writing again.

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

You fall to the bed with your legs clenched together, soaking in your guilty arousal, whimpering as the images of the adult video you stumbled upon replayed in your head. In detail, you could remember the soothing tenor voice as he gasped out terms of endearment, teasing his audience before releasing thick milky fluid up his bare and toned abdomen. The white sunk into the valleys of his stomach, his hum echoing in your ears through your earbuds before letting out a soft thanks and leaving the prerecorded video with an ending statement he does in every video, “Hope you’ll cum again soon. Bye.”

You hardly entertained the idea of cam shows since high-level production porn was easily accessible and needed no monetary compensation for most sites, but this guy was intriguing enough to stay and watch. He seemed like the perfect combination of gentle yet demanding, even with his awful username (what kind of name was Din0dicksd0wn anyway). You thought of him so much, that you couldn’t help but imagine your mouth wrapped around that hard gorgeous cock. And then there was the matter of his familiarity, which frightens you for countless reasons you don’t want to get into.

He didn’t show his face at all in the videos, maybe a peek at his smile if he slouches, but everything about him was a mystery besides the fact he went by Dino and his laughter could uplift any spirit dead or alive. His seductive internet presence increased your screen time usage and now leaves you anticipating the next time he does a live show, where you’d have a front seat.

You kept your promiscuous thoughts to yourself as you wanted your roommate to come back with food, remembering how you work better on a full enough stomach. Promptly, he returns to your place of residence with food and a big goofy smile on his face. “I hope you like extra cheese!”

You smile thankfully at the young man, who is urging a filling burger to your lap and you enjoy your late dinner together. Now with your mind on the way to being nourished, you had to think of a way of doing some ‘finger painting’ with your innocent roommate from hearing or interrupting. “Don’t you have any plans tonight? What are you doing at home on a Saturday?”

He halts his chewing, looking over at you with frightened eyes, “Oh, just, nothing. I don’t feel like going out today ‘tis all.”

“So you’re gonna be home all night?” You rephrase with subtle disappointment in your tone.

“Yeah, I’m just tired,” he adds, “after eating I was gonna tuck in early. Work has been really tiring this week. How about you? Are you staying home?”

You gulp, readjusting your burger in your grip. “Yeah, I thought I might sleep too. I guess it was a rough week for the both of us.”

“Yup.”

Silence fills the air, neither one of you could look at each other. Chan awkwardly finishes the last of his fries and picks up after himself, offering to help you with any of your trash before he leaves. He sees you shake your head in response.

“No thanks, Chan. I’m good.”

Chan politely smiles, turning away from the living area and washing up before he starts to head to bed. You sigh quietly, crumbling up the paper wrapper and washing up in the kitchen sink with the bathroom occupied. Being home all day, there was no need for you to shower, just good teeth brushing. However, looks like the toothpaste you keep by for cases like this ran low, meaning you had to bother Chan for another awkward encounter. 

You speed up to the bathroom door and turn the knob open without thinking, wanting the interaction to be fast and over. On the other end, your roommate was already stripped of his work clothes, dawning a perfectly sculpted body that you could recognize immediately from a singular mole on his loser torso. You immediately clasp your hands over your eyes, blushing hard enough to taunt a bull, and his shrilish scream is all you can hear.

“Occupied! You knew I was in here!”

All you could see was black, but from the audible shuffling, he had to be covering his important bits. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I had to get toothpaste.”

“Ok well, get it and leave, please.”

You sheild your vision from his build and hastily grab the toiletry, shutting the door behind you. After running away, you brushed your teeth at the kitchen sink, lost in your thoughts. The fact of the matter dawned on you, making you feel a long list of emotions that included guilt and longing.

Even knowing the fact, it didn’t matter, you were still going to watch the damn stream. You’d only ever have to watch once and never again, for the sake of your sanity.

You plug your earbuds in and hand down your pants as you lay in peace, waiting for the page to start up. You remember Chan leaving the bathroom in a hurry, without a second glance your way, which only heightened your suspicion. When his username appeared as live, along with its stream, it was the same man you climaxed to hours ago, living, breathing simultaneously with you. 

The same shaped mole was on his torso leading up to friendly accompaniment of his genitals that only grazed your vision mere moments ago, and a smile once again peaks through the top of his screen. You internally melt.

“Good evening. I hope you guys had a nice day. Mine was…eventful. I hope you don’t mind me talking about my day.”

A flurry of messages follow suit, many of them commenting how he was already naked and hard when he typically liked the tease before he got teh real show started.

“I was just so hard thinking about what just happened. Would you like to know what?”

A burst of donations go through, tens of hundreds flashing your screen, making the smile of his grow wider. He palms over his stiff length, jerking it from base to tip slowly, watching his income grow and the sound of cashier chings go off as a notifications.

“I…have a roommate and they’re at home now. They clumsily open the door before I could go in to shower. My cock was out and everything,” he says lightly, almost laughing, “ It was an innocent mistake, but their reaction was so cute. I even liked how they covered their eyes. Fuck.”

He pumps his cock harder in his hand, squeezing to imagine a different pressure of someone other than himself. You swallowed hard, touching yourself with no remorse, matching his pace.

“They should be asleep right now but all I can think about is my cock stuffed hard and deep in their mouth,” he darkly chuckles, “does that make me a bad roommate?”

Hard4cock: I wish you were my roommate I’d never let you sleep daddy +$50

P***y_on_sale: please let that mouth be me +$15

StabmeW/Dk: god im salivating +$30

“I’d never tell them this, but I find them so fucking hot. I want to hear how they sound when I pound their cute ass.”

His wrists flick faster, squeezing tighter around him. “God, how they say my name would make me cum instantly.”

His free hand travels to his nipple, twisting and squeezing the bud as it grows just erect as his cock. His mouth opens a gap as his eyes flutter shut. He ignores his audience for a moment, lost in his own temptations, but stopping himself before it’s too late. He lets go of his nipple and out a low hum. He looks back at the camera with a pearly white smile. “Almost lost myself there. We can’t have that. So tell me about your day.”

He peers closer to the camera, avoiding a face reveal, and revels in the thirst comments and donations sent his way. It was as loud as a casino on Memorial Day, and the dealer was very pleased with himself. The electronic awards breach his eyes and ears every few seconds, swelling a sense of pride in his system.

Cherrylips7: just thinking about you all day wanting to kiss the tip of that cock +$75

Boolicious: your cock is so big, want that one meeee +$150

Heelove6969: I had such a shitty day but you made me forget all about it <3 +$200

“That you slutbaby89 for the lunch money. I missed you, glad to hear my cock still gets you so fucking wet.”

You start scrambling to type away at your laptop, immediately attempting to create a name both clever and concealing. When half satisfied, you send in a donation and request, already slightly self conscious of the username you settled on.

Dino’s body perked up at the appearance of a new name, a sly smile forming on his face. “Kittennextdoor99, what an interesting name. Thank you for the dono, and I’d love to tell you all about what I’d do with my roommate.”

You slouch in the sheets, drenching the pads of your fingers in your arousal, anticipating his next words. You gaze at the screen as he pumps a thick disbursement of lotion and slathers his shaft, his teeth caught between his bottom lip. “They’re so sweet. Really cute. But that just makes me what to see another side to them.”

He grabs from the base of his cock to hold it in his hands, placing pressure to make him sigh in bliss. “I want to just rip their clothes off and give them good head, you know?”

You start typing away, one hand still touching yourself to his words.

Kittennextdoor99: mmmh i’d love to hear more

“Well, they’ve got a cute ass as I’ve mentioned. Wish I could see what it looks like when I’m balls deep inside them. Maybe I’d pull on their hair, fuck them until the forget what year it is.”

Kittennextdoor99: are you thinking about them looking back at you? Whimpering and moaning loud and clear for the neighbors to hear

“God, that fucking hot,” he full palms his cock, hips slightly jerking up into his grasp, imaging his roommate in place of his hand, “Fuck. Yeah I do. I want them to cum all over my cock and do it again and again until they knock the fuck out. I want to drain their energy to the last drop.”

Your legs clenched together, soft moans leaving your lips before you started typing again.

Kittennextdoor99: Mmh you’re getting me so wet 

“Oh am I, kitten? Maybe I should stretch you wide and fuck you deep. I’d love to hear the sounds that come out of your mouth.”

You rub yourself harder, hearing his voice goes rasper. Dino throws his head back, sweet delicious moans coming out of his parted lips as his pace starts to accelerate, his chest heaving at an irregular pace. “Mmh, fuck feel so good around my cock. Pretty baby can’t handle my cock, can you?”

You shake your head as if he could see you, then remember to type in the response that soon got lost in a flurry of them. Message after message saying how hot he was or notifications that his donation bar was closing the gap to his goal. Teasing his nipples once again, he finds a satisfying pace to his self-indulgence and jerks his hand accordingly, hushed obscenities coating his tongue.

“Is my little slut drunk on my cock,” his tongue swipes across his bottom lip, “You’re so pretty fucking yourself for me.”

You clamped your mouth shut, hoping your moans don’t reach the other side of that wall between you both. You sunk deeper in your sheets, desperately wanting for him in place of your eager hand, as you felt your immense arousal cause a twitching to your lower body. Your eyes flutter in Dino’s movement, seeing his cheat heave up and down in the pace of his hands. His hard grunts transitions to sweet and pretty moans, while his sweat made is skin squeak against the leather swivel chair.

“Mmh, I’m so close, baby. You have no idea. Can I please cum, hmm?”

God, were you red.

His whines were music to your ears, and you muffle your squeal in your pillow before responding.

Kittennextdoor99: please baby, I wanna see you painted with your cum +$300

Wonbat: fuck kitten ur balling 

Climbmelikeatree: holy shit baby boy’s gonna finally buy some new toys

Cherrylips7: come on baby, cum for us. Don’t let kitten’s money go to waste +$100

Dino lets out a low but loud enough moan for you to hear from the room next door. His load sprayed in all directions but ultimately layering his flexed body, a playful smile splaying on his face. His fingers thickly coated with hot load cover more skin surface as he made on last pump, making his cock look like the prettiest treat over anything you could find in a candy store. 

You climax soon after his display and shut your eyes to release the hard tears. You collapse limp on your mattress, barely keeping your eyes open to hear the broadcaster speak. “Damn, that was the hardest and fastest I’ve cum in a while. Look at what you made me do.”

Boolicious: Mmh I wanna lick him SLURP

Gaggalox: damn that was the fastest I came too +$75

SexyJisos: you gonna let your roommate fix your mess

A wide smile dawns on his face. “Hmm, that good idea. Might have to wake them up to make that offer. Or if they’re watching, hey roomie. Mind helping me clean up?”

[levi-my-beloved]

Chapter One: The Ackerbond Begins

Pairing: Canon!Levi x F!Reader

Warnings: none for this chapter, canon typical violence

A/N: this is the start of something i'm extremely excited about, go thank @levmada for this entire mini series. AND PLEASE THANK @peace-for-levi FOR BETA READING FOR ME AND PUTTING UP WITH MY CONSTANT ADJUSTMENTS AND RANDOMLY ADDING SCENES. pls you deserve so much for this <3

It started with nothing but a kernel of anxiety. An instinctual glance on an expedition. Well less of an expedition and more one of Hange’s insanity-fuelled capture missions. They’d somehow managed to convince Erwin to try again, despite the losses of last time’s attempt. Granted, it had taken a few hours of begging and pleading, and maybe Hange called in a few favours, but the look on their face when they’d finally pried a yes from your commander really was priceless.

“Wait… he actually said yes?” you couldn’t tame the disbelief in your tone. How the fuck Hange had managed it, you would never know, but you were impressed with their powers of persuasion. You doubted the crazed look in their eye would have helped their case, and yet here you were. Your boots echoed down the hall in an uneven rhythm, Hange borderline skipping back to the communal lounge. “So, who’s the unfortunate squad then?” you asked, a small smirk playing on your lips.

Until Hange stopped skipping, and turned to you a little sheepishly. “I uh– about that…”

You gawked. “Hange… tell me you didn’t,” though you already knew the truth. You’d made them promise before they went to their meeting that they wouldn’t volunteer your squad. Though you were more than willing to help, you knew for a fact your captain would be less than pleased. “Hange you promised! I can’t believe you did that!”

“I didn’t have a choice! Anyway, Shorty will say yes, he always does to me!” You rolled your eyes fondly, that smile returning to your face. It was a fact that Levi often had trouble saying no to Hange, and even when he did say no, he would usually end up helping whatever they were trying to accomplish. You found it rather sweet honestly. 

“And how exactly do you plan on telling him?” 

Hange turned sheepish again, scratching the back of their head. “Actually, I was, rather hoping you could do that for me. You know, I’m always so busy with the lab and experiments and creating new gear and–”

“No. Do it yourself.” You folded your arms, tone flat as you watched Hange’s expression turn desperate.

“C’mon, please? You know you’re his favourite!”

“He doesn’t have favourites.”

“But if he did it would totally be you!”

“Hange, I’m not doing your dirty work, tell him yourself. And stop trying to sweet talk me!” you laughed in disbelief.

“Pleeeeaaaaase? I’ll do anything!”

You paused, raising a brow of intrigue, thinking for a moment. This kind of an offer didn’t happen everyday, and you briefly entertained the multitude of possibilities. “Anything?”

“Yes, anything!” 

“Take a fucking bath.” And with that, you turned on your heel, striding down the hall. It clearly took the madman a second to process what you’d said, before their loud excited shriek echoed behind you.

“YAHOOOOO! I OWE YA!” And despite the fact you’d given in, you couldn’t help your small chuckle at their antics. You could see why Levi’s will was often bent when it came to Hange. There really was something about them you couldn’t say no to. 

Rounding the corner at the end of the hall, you open the door to the communal lounge, expelling a heavy breath before looking up, and realising there were four pairs of eyes trained on you, clearly having been in the middle of a card game. A bottle of half-empty whiskey and four glasses told you they’d been waiting for your return. You gave your squad an apologetic smile, before locking eyes with Eld and gesturing for him to accompany you. Your squad eyed you both a little suspiciously, but it wasn’t uncommon for you to confide in the blonde. He was the only soldier who’d been in the Special Ops squad for as long as you had. He was always the first to make newcomers feel welcome, a stark contrast to Oluo’s ‘I’m better than you’ schtick. Level-headed and kind, Eld had always been a safe space for you. And honestly, if he wasn’t a taken man, you may have tried your luck. You’d wanted to in the past.

Slipping back out the door, you leant against the wall behind you, pinching your brow between your thumb and forefinger. The beginnings of a headache had started to throb at the base of your skull, your shoulders tensing and relaxing as if trying to get rid of the ache. 

“Oh, you don’t look great…” you raised your eyes to the blonde as he shut the door behind him, mirroring your stance on the opposite side. You saw him almost grimace at your appearance. Did you really look that tired? You blew out a breath. You would examine your dark circles later.

“Sooooo, we’re going to be accompanying Hange on their suicide mission.” You stated flatly. Always better to be blunt in the Survey Corps. A habit most soldiers pick up. There’s never any time to faff about on the battlefield, so conveying information quickly and bluntly was the best way forward. 

Eld baulked, eyes bugging at the mere suggestion. “Why haven’t we been told? And why are you the only one who knows? Doesn’t the Captain want us to– oh.” You watched his features slack on horrified understanding. “He doesn’t know… does he?” You shook your head, eyes now trained on the floorboards in distressed thought. Sure, you’d always been able to go to Levi for anything in the past, but you weren’t worried about yourself in this situation. You were more worried about him, and how he would most likely have to disinfect his foot after shoving it so far up Hange’s ass.

“And I'm the one who has to tell him.” You finished your bad news, picking at your lips until you felt the satisfying pull of loose skin. Eld grimaced again, before blowing out a tense breath and running his hand through his sandy hair. 

“Honestly, rather you than me. But I’m sure you’ll be fine, he’s never snapped at you before and you’ve been here longer than me.” You huffed a small laugh.

“Not that much longer, but it’s not me I'm worried about. He’s already got so much on his plate, Eld, I didn’t wanna add this as well. Do you ever see the man take a break? I had to take some food leftover from lunch today because he didn’t show up. He’s working himself to death and now he has to deal with this? I fucking told Hange not to volunteer us for this specific reason and now–”

“Hey, take a breath. You’re fine. Hange does what they want, there’s not a lot you can do now.” Eld’s reassuring tone put you at ease slightly, a hand on your shoulder sapping some of the tension in your muscles. You already knew there was nothing you could do, but it was still comforting to hear it from someone else. “Do you want one of us to tell him? I could ask Petra, she’s always on good terms with him. I don’t think Oluo would be a good idea though…” 

“Nah, it’s okay, I’ll do it. Besides, if I don’t, Hange won’t take a bath so-” you shrugged as if it was the most obvious reason in the world.

“Uh, what?” you laughed at your comrade’s quizzical expression, before patting his hand on your shoulder.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll catch up with you guys later, gotta march to my death. Ya know, ‘Dedicate your heart’ and all that.” You gave him a mock salute, a tired, lopsided smile. Eld laughed at your display, his brow raised in amused pity.

“Not sure this is what the Commander means when he says that but good luck soldier! And let us know what happens if you come out alive!” He called after you, before laughing heartily when you flipped him as you walked back down the hallway, back to the barracks and the superior’s quarters.

Levi actively couldn’t remember the last time he stood up today. Or walked anywhere. Or looked away from the stack of papers taller than wall Maria. Since the last expedition, he’d been caged in by the almost impressive amount of paperwork he’d been loaded with. Lists of damaged equipment and endless scrawls of the soldier’s they belonged to, as well as accounts of cargo and supplies lost, wagon replacement orders and some ridiculous request for more alcohol – why drink alcohol when tea tasted better? – He hadn’t seen hide nor hair of human life today, only a soft knock on his door which he didn’t hear, until his stomach growled so loud he swore the civilians in the neighbouring city would have heard it. Ah, that was the last time he stood up. When he left to grab himself some food only to find a tray at the foot of his door. Lukewarm rice, tea that was somehow still hot, and a small bread roll. 

He still didn’t know who to thank for that. 

So he almost didn’t know how to respond when there was another knock on his door, though for some reason he was stressed as fuck. It wasn’t like he had done anything other than sign his name a thousand times today, so why the fuck did he feel so goddamn–

“Enter.”

It was as if someone had just soothed a cooling balm over a throbbing welt the moment you stepped through the door. Your familiar presence drawing attention to his newfound longing for human interaction. Even Hange would have been a welcome sight, but you were a blessing. Even with those almost bruise-like circles beneath your eyes. “You look about as tired as I feel.” He commented flatly, resting his elbows on his desk. Levi waved off your obligatory salute, wanting to remind you that you never needed to be so formal with him after hours. Considering how long you’d known each other, it felt a little strange. 

“Trust me Captain, you look as tired as you feel.” You quipped, prompting a short huff of amusement, before he really looked at you. Shit, he could fucking smell the anxiety off you. Picking at the loose skin around your cuticles, shifting from foot to foot. Levi raised a brow.

“Well? I assume you didn’t come in here to insult my appearance. What’s going on?” whilst he enjoyed your company, your current presence was simply worsening his own stress. Seeing you fidget so much was… uncommon to say the least.

You took a breath. “I thought you should probably know we’ll be assisting Hange in their next attempt to capture a titan.” 

The room fell silent. Static.

“What?” It was less of a ‘what did you say?’ and more of a ‘you’ve got to be fucking joking.’ kind of question.

“Commander Erwin just approved it and uh, it seems your squad was somewhat volunteered… by Hange.” You braced yourself. Not once had you ever seen Levi blow up, but you know it was a possibility. Though he had a tight rein on his emotions, nobody was immune to this kind of thing. Not even him.

“So why are you in here telling me instead of Four Eyes?” Levi queried, his patience for today thinning. 

“A few reasons, I’d imagine. Most likely self preservation, but we struck a deal. I would be the one to tell you.”

“And in return?”

You flashed a small smirk. “They’d take a bath.” 

Levi nodded in approval, as if Hange taking a bath was the only thing that would have been an appropriate deal to make. Picking up his pen, he set back to the documents in front of him, mindlessing poring over the now amorphous ink stains. “You’re dismissed.” He left it as long as he could before dismissing you, though he didn’t really know why, or whether it was just subconscious. 

You nodded, eyeing the insanely tall stacks of paperwork haphazardly positioned on his desk. They were almost comically big, and you couldn’t help stifling a laugh at the thought of them actually being taller than your captain. But empathy opened your heart, watching him have to reread a few sentences before moving on with tired understanding. With a heavy sigh and one final thought to your waiting tumbler of whiskey with your squad, you pulled up the spare chair in his office and sat on the opposite side of his desk.

Levi glanced up, raising a brow of quizzical suspicion. Though there had been a few times before you’d helped him with his paperwork, usually it was scheduled, and he’d asked for your assistance. This just felt like you were either avoiding someone, or feeling some kind of guilt. And he honestly? He couldn’t think of anything worse.

“The hell are you doing?” He couldn’t keep the sharpness from his tone, eyes narrowing as you all but stole a pen from his stash.

“Literally? Committing major fraud by forging your signature on multiple legal documents containing sensitive information about Scout operations. Actually? Lessening your workload so you might actually get more than twenty six minutes’ sleep tonight.” You took the first document from the largest stack you’d split in half without looking up, instantly scanning the paper for a vague understanding of what the hell you were about to sign for him.

“Why…?” 

You paused, looking up from your first document of the night with a soft smile. “‘Because you look about as tired as I feel.’” You quoted, expression softening. Levi looked at you, his steel eyes widening a fraction as he saw no hint of deception. He’d lied to himself earlier, he could think of something worse. The slight suggestion that you actually wanted to help him, or worse still… that you wanted to spend time with him. 

“...It was thirty nine, actually.”

“Sorry?”

“Thirty nine minutes of sleep. Not twenty six.” Your laughter warmed his heart, and Levi found himself enjoying the sound far too much for his own good. That quirk in your lips, that soft pinch of your brow… He had to look away. This was extremely unprofessional of him.

“I wouldn’t say you’re a champion of sleep, even with those extra thirteen minutes. So let me help.” you implored, holding his gaze until he gave in. Which didn’t take nearly as long as you thought it would.

“Tch, do what you want.” Levi shrugged, going back to his own parchment that had been all but abandoned upon your sudden arrival. 

“Besides, since we’re helping Hange tomorrow, we’ll need our captain at his best.” You tried to sweeten the blow with a compliment, though it seems your efforts fell short the second he jerked his head back up.

“Tomorrow?”

“Yeah… didn’t I mention that?” you chuckled a little sheepishly, and suddenly you knew how Hange felt earlier.

“No, strangely enough, you failed to mention that.” Not that Levi could be mad at you. You would probably have to straight up murder somebody for him to be angry with you, and even then he would ask if you were okay first. Either murder somebody, or track mud through his freshly mopped floors. Levi sighed, accepting his fate. “Why do you enjoy hanging out with them so much anyway?” It wasn’t an insult, not that you could tell. More like genuine curiosity thinly veiled with slight disdain.

“They’re fun, I guess, despite them being borderline clinically insane. It’s a welcome change from the melancholic atmosphere after an expedition. They help chase the shadows away.” Your eyes emptied for a moment, a ghost-like expression haunting your features, and for a second Levi could see every friend, every comrade, every brother and sister you’d lost. Something in him shifted drastically, though imperceptibly.

“We need tea.” The life reentered your eyes as you huffed a laugh, quirking your brow slightly. You didn’t realise you would be helping him for so long, but now you’re here, you can’t say you were discouraged at the idea.

“That we do.”

“You’re doing it wrong.”

“No I’m not, I’m doing it exactly how you were doing it.”

“She says; not doing it the way I did it.”

“Do you want tea or not?”

“Not if you’re gonna do it so wrong.”

You huffed in irritation. When Levi suggested getting some tea, you did not expect it to become some kind of intensive training session where he taught you how to properly steep tea leaves for fuck sakes. Slamming the spoon down on the counter, you fixed him with a glare.

“Are you going to let me do this?”

Levi didn’t back down. “It’s going to taste like pig piss, you know that, right?”

“No it won’t! It’ll taste fine, I’m doing it exactly how you showed me, look!” What Levi saw was almost the exact opposite of what he showed you. It was borderline violent, thrashing the spoon around in the brew, dunking in the leaves like you were interrogating them. What he showed you took finesse, a delicate touch. Not… whatever the hell this was. He couldn’t help but flinch with each forceful tug on the silky bag. Though your determination was something to be admired. And he couldn’t help but admire you.

“Move, let me.” Levi moved to take your place at the counter, having to bite his tongue to stifle his amusement as you grumbled, clearly disgruntled with your tea making performance. Clicking his tongue, he surveyed the absolute massacre you’d made, and his heart clenched woefully at the waste of leaves. “This shit isn’t cheap, so quit wasting it. Now I gotta start again.”

You folded your arms in petulance, pouting an apology before actually feeling bad for wasting one of his few indulgences. You knew it was more of a comfort blanket for him than anything else. Sure, the flavour was good, but nobody could love tea this much, right? You’d rarely spoken about his past; he would simply say he didn’t remember much whenever the topic arose. And you could never tell if that was the truth, or simply an excuse. A defence mechanism. The only thing you knew was that it wasn’t pleasant, and it was nothing short of miraculous that he’d made it out. 

Making a mental note to pop into town and buy some more, you shuffled back over to the counter, resting your elbow on the surface and perching your chin atop the heel of your palm, now watching with renewed curiosity as Levi steeped tea like a craftsman. “See the difference?” 

You rolled your eyes at the slight teasing in his tone -still a little pouty from before -until he shoved the brew under your nose and you couldn’t help but be enticed by the flowery, bitter aroma. It reminded you of his office, you noticed. “Thanks.” You raised your eyes in gratitude, only for your expression to fall flat at the slightest smug pull to his lips.

“That is how it’s supposed to taste. Not like some diluted shit-water.”

“Okay okay I get it! I made the tea wrong.” You conceded, holding your hands up in cease-fire.

“You butchered it.” There wasn’t much Levi felt comfortable enough to tease you about. Your weird habit to talk to the inanimate objects around you was one thing, and now your utterly pathetic tea-making skills. So of course he was about to run this joke into the ground. 

“What do you want me to do? Go back in time and un-butcher it?”

“Pretty sure it was about to confess if you’d held it under a few more times.”

“Oh ha-ha, pick up a brush and paint me a landscape, then we’ll see who’s better than who.” You both stopped, frozen in your accidental slip up. Not a single soul in the Scouts knew of your little hobby, and you’d just fucking told your captain. You felt heat flood to your cheeks as you looked away, suddenly extremely interested in your drink.

Levi stopped to process his sudden, thundering heartbeat. How didn’t he know that about you? He made it his business to know everything about his squad, including Gunther’s affiliation for collecting the most cursed trinkets he could find in the marketplace and meticulously placing them around the HeadQuarters. But not once had this ever come up. “You paint?” 

The sound you made was like nothing he’d ever heard. Something akin to that of a small rodent caught in a trap as you still refused to look at him. “No…?” You sounded almost hopeful that he would believe you, but that sharp brow raise told you otherwise. “Uh, not really. Or not as much as I used to. So occasionally. When I feel like it. Which is sometimes. I, yeah, sometimes.” You cracked your fingers, not really knowing what to do or where to look or how to escape this godforsaken situation you’d stumbled ass backwards into.

The strangest warmth enveloped his chest, his heart fluttering in weird ways at how you suddenly became very humble and bashful. He’d never seen you ramble before, never seen you lose your composure like that. It’s why he trusted you with everything when he was away. Because you could keep a level head. But this was something he didn’t think anyone had seen before. He tried unsuccessfully to squash the privileged feeling, but he couldn’t help it. 

“You any good?” You exhaled an uncomfortable breath, chewing on your bottom lip slightly, still refusing to meet your captain’s curious yet sharp eyes.

“What? No! No, not really. Besides, it’s not like I have the time anyway. I usually paint most in the winter, when we don’t have expeditions to worry about. It does mean most of my canvases remain white but, ya know, less to do that way.” You joked awkwardly, finally gathering the courage to raise your gaze from your teacup, only to become trapped in his. Snared in a net of iced flecked steel, you’d never seen him look so at ease. So soft. No crease in his brow, no pout in his lips. He looked peaceful for once, and you found yourself quickly becoming addicted. 

“ ‘That mean if I was to pick up a brush, I would be better than you?” 

You huffed an incredulous laugh at the flicker of mischief in his eye, unable to stop your own honest grin despite your faux offence. “I wouldn’t say that…'' you folded your arms, fixing him with an accusatory glare that held no venom, but rather veiled enjoyment, almost daring him to quip back. 

But his eyes freely roamed your features, only now noticing the proximity. Everything about you seemed flawless. Everything apart from…

“You’ve been picking at your lips again,” he murmured, taking note of the slight raw redness to your lips, and the way your faux glare softened away to nothing. He knew for a fact that if he were to kiss you, he’d taste blood. Though he wondered what else he would taste. What did you taste like? Probably sweet, like the smell of orange blossom, or maybe something fresher, like dewy grass. Would he be able to taste the tea you just drank? Or would you–

Wait. What the fuck was he talking about?

“Uh, yeah, force of habit,” you looked away, and it took every fibre of self control Levi had not to gently grasp your chin and turn you back to look at him. Fuck, had his heart always skipped beats like this? It was racing so fast he felt as if he had two.

“You should probably get something on them, it looks sore.” Keeping his voice steady was no small feat. Not when he felt his very soul shake with your presence so near him. He was so close to running his thumb gently over your mouth, wanting to soothe the obvious discomfort.

And he would have done, had your little moment not been shattered by a throaty cough, and the arrival of a not so subtle Hange.

“Evening.” Never in your life had you been more conflicted. On the one hand, you were so glad that the conversation was over, and that your heart could stop exploding. But on the other hand…

You were rather enjoying it.

Levi, however, couldn’t have clenched his jaw any harder. For if he did, it was likely he wouldn’t have any teeth left. Shifting his eyes to the left, he had to physically restrain himself from not lunging to throttle them. Leaning up against the counter like that, who the fuck did they think they were? “You don’t smell like the stables, special occasion?” 

You snorted a laugh into your tea, jerking back as the liquid splashed slightly.

“Only if you count tomorrow’s big day! You better have told him, ``I don't want to have taken a bath for nothing!” Hange’s address turned to you, and you nodded with a sharp eye roll.

“Yeah, I told him, glad to smell you held up your end of the deal.” You raised your cup in appreciation, taking a large sip of your drink. Just as you’d suspected, it tasted exactly the same as when you would make it yourself. And you only just managed to stop yourself from bringing it up again. 

Hange paused, and from their eager, cheeky expression, you knew before they even said anything they were about to cause trouble. “What were you two talking about? It looked intense. Prolonged eye-contact and all that.” It was your turn to tense your jaw, though keeping your indifferent façade, you raised a brow.

“Squad formations and pair ups. Whether Oluo and Petra would make a good team or whether she would get pissed off with his pathetic flirting attempts. Since both myself and Gunther work so well with Eld, we were discussing whether it was worth starting trio attack training.” Levi’s eyes widened a fraction as you lied so effortlessly. He couldn’t help but wonder whether you’d ever lied to him, since you did it so smoothly. Maybe that one time he’d stumbled on you and Petra having a private conversation in the corner of the communal lounge. You’d told him then you were discussing gas saving tactics… Was that even true?

Hange visibly deflated, much to your shared relief. “Oh. Well I guess that is quite intense. Care to share?” Levi’s heart did that weird fluttery thing when your smile held very little genuinity. You looked satisfied, almost smug, and it did things to him. Things he couldn’t pinpoint. 

“No. You sprung the mission tomorrow on us, I think we’ll keep this til the last possible moment as well.” 

“Pleeeeeaaaaaase? Levi?” Hange turned to the raven next to you, only to find a similar answer.

“Don’t look at me, not my tactics. She’s the brains behind them, not me. I just approve them.” You had to fight tooth and nail to keep yourself from smiling at that, from smiling at him. 

“But I’m your favourite!”

“I don’t have favourites.” 

You barked a laugh. “Told ya. Anyway, Hans, shouldn’t you be preparing for tomorrow? Getting your equipment ready and maybe checking the failsafes…?” You watched Hange hop up onto the counter, much to Levi’s visible disgust. You assumed, no matter how many times they took a bath, they would never be clean in his eyes.

“Oh! Moblit’s on it. He didn’t trust me enough to make sure everything worked properly.”

“I wonder why…” Levi muttered sarcastically, prompting you to send a ‘be nice’ glance his way. Only to be returned with a glance of ‘piss off’. 

“Poor guy. You should probably buy him a drink or ten as compensation. Pretty sure he should be on some kind of medication for all the heart attacks you give him.” You leaned up against the counter behind you, resting your elbows on the surface. You kind of wished you were somewhere a little comfier but, it’s rare Levi ever joined you and your squad in the lounge, usually opting instead to hide away in his office. 

“He’s fiiiiiine, he just worries too much!”

“Knowing you, Hange, I think he worries an adequate amount for his situation.” Levi muttered, the lower half of his face covered by his obscure hold on the teacup. This wasn’t exactly the evening he had planned, and despite feeling as if something had been ruined earlier, he couldn’t deny he was secretly enjoying himself. When else would he get the chance to just, spend some time away from his work… with you… and Hange, of course. 

“It’s his job to worry so I don’t have to! Don’t you worry for Levi so he doesn’t have to?” they asked you, eyes wide with genuine curiosity.

“I worry about him, there’s a difference, Hans. This doesn’t lead to heart failure.”

“Just headaches and lack of sleep,”

“Pretty sure Moblit suffers from that as well.”

It was almost as if he wasn’t in the room anymore. Levi barely managed to stop his head snapping in your direction. You worried about him? How long had you done that? Why the hell did you worry about him? Did you know he worried for you too? All the damn time? And especially when you looked like you hadn’t slept in the last twenty years and your lips were bitten to shit?

“Anyway! We should really get back to work. Was nice talking to ya, Hans, even if you betrayed me today.” You narrowed your eyes in playful irritation, grinning when they shrugged with indifference.

“Come on, you would have helped out anyway, neither of you can ever say no to me. I’m just that great!”

“Great pain in my ass.”

You laughed at the quiet comment from Levi, draining your cup of tea before placing it back on the counter with a soft clink. Without having to look to your left, you knew Levi had done the same. The original plan was to take tea back to work with you, but this had been a welcome change. You would never get tired at the banter between Hange and Levi, and you completely understood why there were so many rumours about them. Hell, even you were starting to suspect something deeper ran between them. You would even believe it, if not for the fact  Hange was usually tied to Moblit’s hip. Now there was definitely something going on there.

“See you tomorrow! Bright and early, I want this over and done with in the morning so I can get started on the fun part!” Hange’s eyes seemed to glaze over with some kind of deranged excitement, and you were half expecting them to start drooling.

You shivered despite yourself. Sometimes they really were terrifying.

Saying your farewells, you prepared yourself for another few hours of paperwork, stretching your fingers as you walked side by side back to Levi’s office. The silence wasn’t tense, but instead static. Like he had something to say but was holding off for one reason or another. You wanted to pry it from his lips, but you also knew that would simply discourage him from saying anything.

It took almost the entire walk back to his office for Levi to finally speak up, quelling the irritating stuttering in his chest. It was becoming really fucking annoying. “You worry about me?”

You stopped just short of his door, tilting your head with a quirked brow. “Yes? Why do you sound so surprised? Of course I worry about you,” you spoke as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. But of course, to Levi, it wasn’t, and after his prolonged silence, you started to worry you’d overstepped a boundary. “I worry about everyone.” It was a quick fix, but believable enough. You did have a tendency to stress about your comrades.

It wasn’t that Levi was disappointed. No, that couldn’t have been it. It was natural for you to worry about everyone. It was in your nature. It was just a testament to how much you cared about everyone. So why the hell did he suddenly feel weirdly hollow?

“I see.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

“It’s fine.”

Now, this was an awkward silence. You shifted on your feet slightly, having absolutely no idea how to proceed from here. Levi’s hand rested on the door handle, but he made no move to push it open. He just stared at you, scrutinising. And shit was it uncomfortable.

Levi found himself stuck in a strange limbo, so caught up in his head he didn’t realise how fucking weird he was being. He was trying to decipher you, like some impossible enigma. Trying to see your hidden messages in the valleys and hills of your face, in the confusing, swirling smoke of your eyes. It was only when you cleared your throat did he blink back to reality to see you awkwardly looking around.

What the fuck was he doing?

“Ah, we should probably get on with–”

“Get some sleep.” He said your name harsher than he meant to. He didn’t mean for that to sound like a thinly veiled ‘fuck off’, but from the way you looked like he’d just struck you, he could safely assume the real message of ‘I can’t worry about you tomorrow so I need you rested and ready’ was lost in translation. Levi didn’t know why he was surprised.

You saluted stiffly, gritting your teeth against your confused hurt. You knew later on tonight, most likely when you were in bed and couldn’t sleep, you would be going over this conversation over and over again, agonising over the exact moment you fucked up and pushed him back into his shell after working so hard to coax him out of it.

“Yes sir.” Unable to think of anything else to say, you turned on your heel and strode back down the hall, not wanting to think about this exchange until you were at least out of eyesight. 

Your smooth transition from your softer, more domestic self, to the soldier he knew he could always rely on gave him whiplash. He couldn’t help but wonder whether everything that had happened this evening was either a manifestation of his own lack of sleep, or if he was seeing some kind of link between you two that simply wasn’t there. But he couldn’t explain, or shake, the stabbing twist in his chest. 

Levi was no stranger to pain, but this was another breed of hurt altogether. One he’d never experienced before.

And one he hoped he would never experience again.

Hange wasn’t kidding when they said bright and early. You guessed it was sometime near 4:30 in the morning when a sharp knock rapped on your door, jolting you awake. You heard the groan of your disgruntled roommate below you, and two groggy curses from your other two roommates opposite. Swinging your head down, you saw the slightest tuft of ginger hair from beneath clean linens. 

“I guess I’ll get it, shall I? We all have to be up anyway, lazy sods.” You grumbled amicably, clambering down from your bunk. You had half a mind to tear Nifa’s bed cover off her sleeping form, spill water over Petra’s submerged head and rip Nanaba’s pillow from under her. But, you decided to be nice this morning. You loved these girls dearly. Though most of you came from separate squads, you’d formed a tight knit bond with each other, and one you knew wouldn’t so easily be broken.

Padding over to the door, you cracked it open to see Eld’s own tired visage. Hair loose dishevelled, sleep still plaguing his eyes, you just managed to stop yourself from laughing. 

“Mornin’ you. Ready to go catch some titans?” You wiped the sleep from beneath your eyes, sighing a long, heavy breath of discontent. 

“No, and from the sounds of it, you aren’t either. How long do we have?” You asked, casting a glance back inside your room only to find all three girls, now wide awake, grinning at you slyly.

“About half an hour. When Hange volunteered us for this gig, this was not what I was expecting.” Eld ran a hand down the side of his face, before sliding it back up his cheek and through his sandy locks. You always forgot just how long his hair was when it wasn’t up in a bun. He looked strange with it down, though oddly refreshing.

“Tell me about it. Alright, we’ll be out in fifteen max. No doubt the Captain wants to brief us quickly.” You were surprised at your own venom when you said that. Even Eld looked a little taken aback, eyeing you with suspicion. You hadn’t meant to spit his name like that, it was sort of an involuntary response to the way he treated you last night. You had, of course, mulled it over time and time again before you finally managed to get to sleep, and you still couldn’t figure out where you went wrong. So you were safe to assume you didn’t. And he’s just an asshole. Yeah, that must be it.

“Gotcha, Gunther and Oluo are already up too so we’ll see you in the courtyard in fifteen, yeah?”

“Sounds good. Cheers for the wake-up call.” You slowly shut the door, turning back to the three pairs of eyes all trained on you. Even Petra - sleepy, ‘don’t wake me up or I’ll murder you’ Petra - was wide awake, as if she had been for hours. “What?”

“Just fuck him and get it over with. We could smell the sexual tension from here.”

“Gross, Nana.” Petra quipped.

“Really, it’s just embarrassing at this point.” She continued, clambering down from her top bunk.

“Even I can see there’s something between you two. Hasn’t he made any moves yet?” Nifa asked innocently, curiously tilting her head from the comfort of her blankets.

You folded your arms a little defensively. Sure, you used to have a crush on the man, you’re not immune to charm and good looks, but that was an extremely long time ago. Before you actually knew him. That wouldn’t stop him from being one of your greatest friends, but any romantic feelings you may have once felt had been squashed. He simply wasn’t your type. 

“No, strangely enough, because he’s engaged and we’re also nothing but close friends.”

“Strange how you mentioned him being engaged first.” Petra wiggled her eyebrows, retrieving a shirt from your shared chest of drawers. 

“You’re acting like you having been fucking Oluo on the sly. It’s normal for her to be out late, she has more duties than the rest of us,” –you nodded in mock gratefulness to Nanaba’s reference to you as her– “but for you, Pet? Yeah, obviously you’re out fucking somebody, and the only one who’s interest you’ve entertained is Oluo. So, I deduce–”

“Well, what about you and Miche? Huh? What’s going on there?” Petra fired back, not letting Nanaba finish her sentence. Honestly, you were just glad the attention was off you for a second.

Nanaba held her hands up in honesty. “What can I say? His sense of smell isn’t the only thing superior about him.” You cackled wickedly, drowning out Petra’s disgusted groan and Nifa’s quiet retch.

“I think I’m gonna throw up.” 

“Don’t you have the hots for Hange?” You asked the poor girl, who instantly turned a dark shade of red.

“N-no! I just- I admire their conviction, that’s all! Besides, Moblit’s always hovering around them like a lost puppy, so there’s not much I can do anyway. I-if I liked them, that is! Which I don’t!” You exchanged knowing glances with Nanaba and Petra, wry smiles pulling at all your lips.

“Sure Nifa, we believe you.” Nanaba grinned, only to receive a pillow to the face from the blushing girl.

“It’s not like that! You’re all awful.” She huffed, finally dragging herself from her bed to start getting ready. 

You were already halfway through putting on the lower half of your harness, still needing to retrieve a hoodie from your drawer. You didn’t know how Petra wore a shirt all year round. You found yourself freezing your tits off in the winter, and sweating like a pig in the summer. Your outfits usually fluctuated between thin tee-shirts and hoodies. Sometimes you would wear both, if it was a particularly cold day. You let the loose straps of your harness dangle around you whilst you started rifling through your drawers for the specific jumper you wanted to wear today, before another knock on the door interrupted you all.

“I got it last time.” You stated bluntly, but none of your roommates were as dressed as you were. With a heavy sigh and multiple middle finger flips, you pulled on your tight breast band and crossed the room again. “Eld, I thought we agreed we’d see you in fif…teen…… minutes……” you instantly regretted speaking before you even looked up to see who it was. It wasn’t Eld. Oh shit, it wasn’t Eld.

Levi found himself unable to do anything but stare blankly at you, his face betraying none of the short-circuiting his brain seemed to be doing. Why the fuck weren’t you wearing a shirt…? Why the fuck weren’t you ready yet?

And why the fuck did he find his mouth suddenly dryer than dirt parched of rain. Keeping his head seemed impossible in this situation. He’d only come to make sure you were getting ready. He found what he was looking for, sure, but why like this?

“Captain.” You felt extremely silly saluting only half dressed, but it wasn’t like your squad hadn’t seen each other before. Admittedly, Levi had never joined your games of strip poker, not even when Hange begged and pleaded, but as a result, you didn't really think much of it. 

“Could you shut the fucking door maybe?” Nanaba called from behind you, clearly trying to slip on the uniform pants without a spectator. But for all the grief she gave you this morning, you were half tempted to open it wider, just to piss her off. But a sharp call of your name made your decision for you. 

“Alright alright, sorry.” You called back, stepping out into the hallway and closing the door behind you. You felt strangely exposed now. Maybe that was because your retreat had now been blocked off, but goosebumps littered your skin from an invisible wind. The situation was disgustingly similar to last night, where he did nothing but stare at you for a good few minutes. It wouldn’t have made you so uncomfortable if you knew why he kept looking at you like this.

“I thought you would be ready.” Fucking hell, it had taken every fibre of Levi’s control to rein himself back from wherever he’d lost himself to. His heart was doing that irritating stuttery thing again, the one where he couldn’t think straight and his palms started to sweat. He must be coming down with some illness. That had to be the reason. 

“We were only woken up seven minutes ago, Sir. Apologies.” You kept with the formalities, too confused by his behaviour last night to slip back into your informal addresses. This was so much easier anyway. He didn’t look like he noticed, or even care anyway. Though that idea felt strangely… hurtful. 

Levi stayed silent for a moment, collecting himself and running through the best ways to end this conversation. He’d found himself in a conflicting paradox. On the one hand, he wanted to talk to you. But he also wanted you to put some goddamn clothes on. He would never admit to himself that he didn’t mind the view -actively enjoyed the view, even- because that would be vulgar and despicable.

Even if it was true.

“Be in the courtyard in three minutes. Petra too. I want to brief the squad on today’s mission.” You saluted again in response, nodding once before he turned and marched off. You guessed whatever sweet domesticity you’d shared yesterday was nothing but a one time thing. Or maybe nothing happened at all, and you’d imagined the whole thing. But you had grown closer last night. Admittedly you were always close with your captain, but yesterday was different. You shared something with him, and in return, he shared something with you. It was all just… so confusing.

You watched him stride out of sight, before slipping back inside your room. And you were once again greeted by the suspicious gazes of your three roommates. “Oh for god’s sake.” You chimed in, before they started singing their questions at you.

“Both of them? Isn’t that a little greedy?”

“Damn, didn’t think you could pull one, let alone both at the same time,”

“Wait, are you uh, having sex with Captain Levi as well?”

You held up your hands for a cease-fire, looking incredulously between them. “Girls, girls, please! You can’t assume I’m fucking every man and woman I happen to be in a conversation with. I’m not even fucking one of them, let alone both!” You let out an exasperated sigh, the three women still eyeing you suspiciously, before turning to Petra specifically. “Hurry up, we have three minutes.” 

“I still think you should at least try. I mean, the chemistry between you two is like something you would find fizzing away in Hange’s lab!” You were barely listening to Petra’s crazy ideas as you walked. You hadn’t realised she was this desperate for you to get laid. It would have been amusing if it wasn’t so early in the morning. 

“Petra, in the nicest way possible, shut the fuck up. We’re not dating, I’m not going to try and date him. He’s not my type, engaged, and we’re. Just. FRIENDS.” You didn’t know what else you would have to say or do to make her shut up about this ridiculous idea. You managed to finish dressing in one minute, and join up with your squad in the following sixty seconds. You’d just batted away her expressive hands before crossing the courtyard, your squad looking mildly irritated. 

Your eyes flicked between the three men. “What’s up with you guys? Other than getting up at this godforsaken hour to catch a titan?” It was at that your companions all turned to you.

“Except that’s just it. It’s not just a titan.” Gunther lamented, fixing the clasp of his cloak tighter around his neck. You looked for further explanation, finally given to you from the less than pleased looking Oluo.

“Crazy bitch wants us to catch two. ‘Compare and contrast’ they said. ‘Measure twice, cut once’ they said. They can measure how far my blade can sink into their–”

“Shut up Oluo, we get it,” –you turned to Eld, ignoring the indignant huff from your comrade– “Does the Captain know?” you asked, but already knowing the answer from his sheepish grimace.

“Ah- we were rather hoping actually, you would tell him?”

“...you cannot possibly be serious. Isn’t it someone else’s turn?” You tried desperately to sway each of your friends, but they all looked away pretty swiftly. “Oh for fuck’s sake, you’re all a bunch of cowards. You fight titans for a living, and you’re scared to tell your captain that–”

“Tell your captain what?” Your blood quite possibly froze over at the familiar cadence and tone from behind you, and the pale faces of your comrades. You mouthed the world’s quietest ‘shit’ before turning to face him, exercising your chipper façade. 

Levi instantly raised a brow of suspicion. He’d seen that look before, at winter balls when you would be cussing out some noble prick, only for them to walk up behind you and ask for a dance. It was a cover, albeit an incredibly good one. But one he’d seen far too many times before. And he saw your smile falter the moment you realised he could see right through you. At least you were clothed this time. “Something to say?”

You huffed, folding your arms. “Only because nobody else has the fucking nerve to say it. Hange wants us to grab two titans, not just the one.” Levi visibly tensed. He thought this would have all been over by lunchtime, but it seems Hange had gone a little overboard with their demands for this. The freedom to even attempt had gone to their head. 

“Damnit Four Eyes…”

“Tell me about it. Not too thrilled ourselves honestly. Will it affect the briefing?” you asked, the rest of your squad gaping at you from behind whilst you proceeded to have a seemingly perfectly normal conversation with him after delivering such devastating news. 

“I doubt it. We’ll just rinse and repeat for the second one, assuming we’re all still alive. It’ll just take out more of the day.” ‘That I could have used to get my paperwork done.’ You finished his sentence for him in your head, once again that stab of empathy impaling your heart. As strange as he had been acting, you still worried about him. Your expression softened slightly. 

You understood.

“Guess we’ll just have to get it done quickly then. I’m glad Miche squad is joining though, that’ll cut the time in half at least. And if we work efficiently enough, then this shouldn’t take as long as we’re thinking. I’d suggest finally pairing Oluo with Petra,”

Levi nodded thoughtfully, considering the option carefully. “That’s assuming they manage to work together without slicing each other up, but it’s a solid idea. I’m guessing that would put Eld and Gunther in their usual pairing?” It was about as subtle as he got with wanting to keep you in sight at all times. On most expeditions, he didn’t even need to make sure, because you were always paired together, but on missions like these…

“Actually Sir, I’ve been working well with Gunther in training recently. We’re coordinated enough to know each other’s movements. Plus I think it would be good for him to work with someone else other than Eld or yourself.” You suggested, and your eyes must have been playing tricks on you, because there was no way Levi would have looked deflated at that idea, right? This was the best opportunity to see if you and Gunther worked with the same efficiency as you did with Petra or Levi himself. You doubted it, but it was worth a shot.

‘Absolutely fucking not.’ Is what he wanted to say. ‘The hell are you thinking, not sticking by my side?’ is what some fucked up instinct was telling him to say. Some part of his brain that seemed focused on pissing him off by filling his head with these thoughts and making his heart stutter whenever you so much as breathed in his vicinity. “Fine. But don’t fucking die on me.” 

You knew that was about as good as you were going to get. Still, your very soul sung at his words. Reading between the lines came with Levi’s personality description, and over the years you’d become quite good at it. A warm, kind smile pulled at your lips, the first he’d seen on you since yesterday evening. 

“Who’s worrying about who now?” you couldn’t help but lightly tease, your smile widening at his dismissive scoff. But you’d caught it, the slightest hint of amusement etched deep within his features. 

If only you knew. If only you knew that he constantly worried about you, and had done for the last however many years he’d been blessed with your presence. 

Levi mentally shook himself. Where the fuck did that come from? When had he started thinking like that? Certainly before yesterday, but his thoughts had never been so damn vocal about you like this. He wished more than anything he could just turn them off. 

“Besides, strategically speaking, this is the best course of action. Gunther’s still fairly new, he has the skill yeah, but lacks the experience to follow through.” It seemed you had continued talking even after his mind took a short wander, and he hadn’t realised he’d been staring rather blankly at you the whole time. Did you notice he wasn’t listening? Or were you so focused on your strategy that you barely noticed him? You weren’t even looking at him…

And had either of you noticed that your squad had slowly backed away from the entire conversation and were now in a small group of their own, whispering to each other in hushed, secretive tones. 

You sure as shit didn’t, at least not until Levi cleared his throat rather obviously, and you looked up, shaken from your thoughts, to find Levi looking over your shoulder, a brow raised in irritated disinterest.

You turned to find yourself alone, save for your comrades now metres away. How had they left you without you even noticing? Were you really that wrapped up in the conversation? You were strategizing, something you would get carried away with, but even so…

Sneaky assholes.

Eld shot you an apologetic look as they shuffled back over, one you responded to with an obviously faux smile, the same smile you gave Hange yesterday. Levi felt his stomach clench slightly.

But it was Petra’s expression that had you nervous. She looked innocent. Too innocent. Like she was trying way too hard to appear inconspicuous, which of course, made her look much more conspicuous. She raised her thin eyebrows to you, daring you to ask her. You grit your teeth and held your tongue instead. 

“Alright, we’re pairing up. Petra and Oluo will work together, Eld you’re with me today.” Both Eld and Gunther gave you a strange look. Everyone in the squad knew it was you who would usually put together strategies and training regimes, alongside your Captain, of course. So they knew who to turn to if something didn’t make sense.

“Gunther’s with me, yeah. Thought we’d switch it up a bit.” You added, shrugging indifferently to Eld’s confused head-tilt.

“Works for me, we’ve been training a lot together recently, so this should be fun.” Your entire squad shifted to look at Gunther in morbid awe. You definitely had a different definition of fun…

“Petra, keep Bozado in order. Try not to kill him, as tempting as it often is.” Despite the surprisingly grating words, Oluo straightened and saluted Levi. You couldn’t help checking his nose for any brown staining, considering how much of a kiss-ass he was.

“I won’t let you down sir! You can count on us!” Levi winced slightly at the explosion of dedication from the man, glancing at your ever-so-subtle quirk of amusement, hidden by a strategic scratch of your eyebrow. Why did everything you do today cause his stomach to practise gymnastics? It was really getting on his nerves. Not you, just his own reactions. 

“Well, you all look ready to go.” You knew that voice without even having to turn around, though you did anyway. You threw a bright smile in Nanaba’s direction, watching her wince as if you were burning sunlight directly into her eyes. “Put that away, would you? We’re not all early risers.”

“No, because I do all the early rising for you.” You muttered, rolling your eyes at her flat stare. Anyone looking in from the outside would assume you hated each other, it was only those in your current circle who knew the truth. You would do anything for each other. All of you would. 

“Wasn’t it you who woke us up?”

“Take it up with Eld, I had nothing to do with it.” You shrugged, nodding your head in Eld’s faux grateful expression. 

“Don’t blame me, Gunther wakes us all up with his monstrous shi–”

“Alright that’s enough. Be ready to move out at a moment’s notice, disgusting lot.” You didn’t know if it was a product of proximity to Levi as a person, or because you were literally standing so close to him, but you could have sworn he was trying his best to hold in some show of amusement.

He absolutely was. And he could do nothing but walk away, making sure the rest of the group couldn’t see his face, before he released his amused smirk. 

If this was ‘everything going according to plan’ you would hate to see what it looked like when Hange’s plans failed. It was chaos from the get-go. They didn’t even stay in the formation they’d decided upon, instantly racing ahead of the rest of the squads. Poor Moblit galloped behind them, trying in vain to catch up, but whatever fucking science Hange had done on their horse, it seemed to travel much faster than any of the rest of them. You heard Miche swear under his breath, heard Levi’s cursing as the three squads tried vehemently to catch up, inevitably splitting up in the process.

And by the time you got there, it was already utter chaos. Frantic shouting from Hange with immense detail as to what titan type they were looking for, not knowing if they wanted to go for a fifteen metre or the five metre first. Not knowing what fucking hair colour they wanted. You almost screamed in frustration as you went to slice the nape of a stout five metre, only to be called back by Hange. 

Irritation flared in your gut. Especially after they then proceeded to tell you to ‘actually kill that one, its nose is wonky’. It took every fibre of self control not to comment on the crookedness of their nose. But you felled the monster anyway. There wasn’t time to argue. 

You’d just managed to mount your horse again, Gunther doing the same, when Nanaba called your name, racing toward you at full gallop and waving frantically. You glanced at Gunther who nodded in silent confirmation, before you both galloped to meet her halfway.

“What’s the situation?” You asked, barely slowing to a canter.

“”Miche squad’s surrounded, it’s a bloodbath out there. We need as many soldiers as we can find.” You’d never seen her look so wild. So wracked with untamed fear. Whatever the hell was happening over the hill, it wasn’t good. You turned back to your squad, the barrage of hoof-fools alerting you of their presence. 

“Miche’s surrounded.” You cut to the chase as Levi and Eld were the last to join the throng, Eld exchanging a concerned look with you. But there was nothing to be done, no way to reassure him you were alright. Not whilst there was still so much going on.

Levi thought for less than a moment, before addressing the rest of his team. “We lend a hand. Quick in and out, we don’t have time to be dropping in and saving every team that lands in shit. Do what you can and leave the rest to his squad.” 

You nodded in agreement when he looked to you for confirmation. The moment you set off, your squad instantly fell back into formation. You rode alongside Eld, behind Levi and in front of Oluo and Petra, Gunther took the rear.

“You alright?” you knew the question was coming.

“Yeah, as alright as one can be during one of Hange’s suicide missions. Still can’t believe they fucking volunteered us for this shit.” You grit your teeth, crouching low over your horse’s neck.

“Stay sharp, we’ve got company.” Eld nodded to his right, and you looked past him to three grinning titans. There was something about the ones that smiled. The ones who looked genuinely pleased to be devouring humanity. Their giddy delight always made you want to throw up. 

“Two this side as well.” Your head whipped to your left, Petra’s voice behind you calling you back. At least those two weren’t smiling. You looked back to Levi, who stayed staring straight ahead.

“Captain?” It wasn’t like you to prompt orders, trusting him with your life. But the closer the five came, the more your nerves buzzed. But still he kept his silence. You didn’t know what was happening. He’d been off today, and you’d never known Levi to be off. Something had happened, it must have. Or he was sick… yeah, that could be it. He was just coming down with a cold. Not that you’d ever seen him sick but that was the only logical explanation.

Minutes seem to stretch for eternity before he finally spoke up. “Eld, Gunther, take the three on the right. Petra, Oluo, take the left. You, stick with me for now. We’ll regroup after Miche squad is safe.” You met Levi’s eyes as he looked over his shoulder to you, and you tried to keep the fear from your gaze. Though you didn’t know why you were afraid. You’d worked with Levi for nearly all of your Scout life. But he was off his game, he was distracted, he was–

You noticed his expression soften ever so slightly, and all doubts ebbed away. This was Levi you were talking about. When had he ever been off his game? You returned his expression with a confident nod, determination sparking back in your eyes. He seemed satisfied with your reaction, and turned back just as the rest of your squad separated. A few seconds passed before you, too, had abandoned your horse in favour of ODM gear, being much better suited to the village terrain. A lot more to grip onto than out in the open field. 

It was a wonder why you ever diverted from working with Levi in the first place. You flowed together like joining rivers, movements matched, manoeuvres coordinated. Distract and dispose was your game. Though it was dangerous, you’d worked on it for so long it came like second nature.

You zipped past the eyes of a fifteen metre, feinting as it quickly grabbed for you, before allowing yourself into a freefall. It was a common manoeuvre you used, Levi showing up right on time. You held out your arm, wincing slightly as Levi used his momentum to grab it and swing you back. Titans had grown accustomed to the achor firing and usage of gas to change direction, but this always caught them off guard. They couldn’t anticipate the swift change. 

You felt your entire centre of gravity shift as you were swung back, Levi’s grasp on your arm releasing just as you fired your gear into its nape. With one swift slash, the beast fell on its front, and you landed on a nearby rooftop, panting slightly. Your arm throbbed a little where Levi had grabbed you, for some reason so much harder than he usually would. 

The titan count had dropped considerably since your squad had arrived, freeing Miche’s squad from the clutches of extinction. You knew your current partner was safe by the sounds of his footsteps beside you.

“All good?” You asked, turning your head to greet him as he came to your side, nodding in answer.

“Let me see your arm.” You blanched at the order, subconsciously moving it out of sight. How the fuck could he possibly know…?

“Which arm?” Now really wasn’t the time to be stalling, but you just really, really didn’t want to see his inevitable look of guilt if there was any bruising.

“The one you just hid from me. Let me see it.” Your eyes fell in acceptance, sheathing the trigger handle of your gear and holding out the arm that currently felt like it had been wrapped in tight string. 

With a gentleness you’d only seen a few times, Levi rolled up the sleeve of your jacket and jumper, bunching it uncomfortably at the crease of your elbow. You couldn’t look at him as his fingertips traced the discolouring on your arm, goosebumps raised in his fingers’ wake. 

But there was nothing you could do to stop the guilt he felt. Levi’s own arm pulsed in retaliation, almost as a punishment for hurting you. 

“It’s fine, Levi.” You murmured lowly, as if talking any louder would break him. 

You’d never been so conflicted. On the one hand, you knew him. You knew Levi better than anyone, though that may surprise a lot of people. Neither of you made it obvious that you knew each other so well, mainly because if Hange caught wind, they’d never stop crowing about it. But just because you knew him, doesn’t mean you could always decipher how he was feeling, or predict how he was going to react. Last night made that incredibly clear. You still don’t know what you did wrong, and asking him now just felt like an unnecessary, awkward conversation that you knew he would avoid at all costs.

It was a ridiculous paradox. You knew him, but because you knew him, you didn’t know him at all. 

“Get some salve on that the moment we get back. Let me know if it starts to bruise.” Something cracked in your chest at his quiet tone, remorse lacing his words, dripping in regret. It was impossible, it seems, to live with no regrets. You couldn’t deny he’d done well though, but there were some things that seemed impossible to move on from. “Join up with Gunther and get this over with. I’m sick of today.” There was no further exchange before ran and jumped, gear hissing as he sped back into the much smaller fray. 

You sighed heavily. Everytime you grew closer to him, he always shields himself from you. It had been a vicious cycle for a while now, and it was starting to get on your nerves. He really was impossible.

Levi’s head pulsed, aching waves of nausea hitting him periodically, throwing him off his rhythm. He could barely concentrate. Everytime his squad split up to take down the surrounding titans, his head would throb. Definitely sick, he decided. He would have to take the next few days off to recover from whatever illness had struck him. Though it was strange. He’d never been sick. Not since he was brought above ground. He had not once caught a cold, a disease, a virus -nothing. So it was odd that, now, he would be coming down with something. Not only that, but his arm ached like shit, and he was more than positive it was a punishment for hurting you earlier. At least, he hoped it was.

Not that he had the time to even contemplate these things. He wanted to throttle Hange. Again. The sheer lack of preparation was going to cost them so many lives. He knew Hange was rarely careless with human life, but it seemed that the freedom had gone to their head. Erwin had given them the go-ahead, and it had driven them wild. 

“Hange!” he called, briefly breaking off from formation to catch up with the wildly galloping scientist. They’d been flitting from squad to squad, assessing the surrounding titans, sizing them up and mentally weighing their value to her experiments. They appeared to not even hear him. “Hange!” he called again, this time a little more agitated.

Hange’s head whipped in his direction, a grin of deranged delight almost toppling him off his horse. “Didn’t see ya there! How’s your squad doing? Anything exciting to report? Oooooo, maybe an abnormal?” The way Hange’s eyes flashed eagerly made him want to kick them off their own horse.

“No, but you need to fucking choose. People are dying for this, Hange. Get your shit together and–” Levi couldn’t finish his sentence; his hand quick to cushion the side of his head. His skull was splitting apart. There was no other explanation. His skull was cracking and shattering and–

Everything beyond his own head silenced into nothing. His eyes widened, but he wasn’t looking at anything. But if he wasn’t looking at anything… then how could he see you?

You and Gunther, both looking incredibly co-ordinated. What the fuck was going on? You were nowhere near him. He’d broken formation away from you to talk to Hange, you were across the field behind him… how the fuck could he–

His heart lurched into his throat. One second you were performing flawless manoeuvres with your partner, the next you were silently screaming his name, becoming a comet as you changed trajectory and swung back to him. The impact had his jaw tensing as if he himself were bracing for pain. You’d careened directly into him, the reason unknown until the giant hand swiped down and obscured you from his vision. 

When he saw you again, you were struggling. Struggling and writhing in the suffocating grasp of a twenty metre. Your arms pinned to your side, you could do nothing but twist in vain. A whip cracked inside Levi’s head.

He had to go.

He didn’t even register Hange had been calling his name until he was racing in the other direction. Hundreds had died. Hundreds upon hundreds of people he’d known by name, had died, and he’d moved on. He’d had to.

So why the hell would he race so hard for you? He asked the question as if he didn’t already know the answer.

His headache was getting worse. The splitting pain had stopped, but it was a growing ache now. A sand-timer. He was acting on instinct. He knew it was a timer to your death. Whatever the fuck he’s just seen, it hadn’t happened yet. He could still get to you. He could still save you. He could still–

“GUNTHER!” Your panicked scream shattered his spiral, but he was still too far away. Everything unfolded before his eyes, your manoeuvres a mirror to what he’d just witnessed. Your swinging trajectory changed. Your cracking impact, the clanging of metal as your partner was shoved clear of the giant hand. 

Levi urged his horse faster, digging his heels into its flanks. He had to make it. He didn’t have another choice. He felt winded, like fingers were pressing into his lungs as you were caught, arms pinned by your sides. What he hadn’t heard was Gunther’s scream of your name. Not until now, and it was haunting. Whether it spooked his horse, or the beast simply recognised the desperation of its rider, he didn’t know or care. A reward was in order for its final burst of speed. 

He also hadn’t heard his own desperate roar of your name in his vision. It had ended before this. 

Anchors fired, gas pressed, Levi’s stomach met his throat as he whipped between the titan’s head and shoulder, twisting impossibly to re-aim his gear straight for its nape. He had to kill it and catch you after. If he freed you first, the risk of being caught again was too high. And though every instinct screamed at him to tear it to shreds, he didn’t have time on his side. 

His internal organs lurched as he pressed the gas again, a feeling he was too used to now. One anchor released, adjusting his arc as steel sliced through flesh and muscle, cleaving a valley through the titan's nape.

Instantly he felt the press on his lungs release. He chalked it down to relief, though it wasn’t over. You were now released.

And falling. 

Levi performed another seemingly impossible twist, and there you were. 

With no obvious anchor points, this was why ODM gear was so dangerous in open field combat. With no trees to hook on to, it was incredibly difficult to land without damaging anything, or at least ending up with a sprain. But once again, no other options presented themselves to him.

You turned at the familiar hiss, wind whipping your hair, but only for a second before you were sheltered by body mass. You didn’t need to look to tell who it was. You recognised that smell. 

“This is going to hurt.” He told you, a hand bracing the back of your head.

“Don’t let go.” You pleaded, gripping the sides of his tan jacket.

Levi drew back, looking at you briefly in a way you’d never seen before. You didn’t realise he would hit the ground first.

“I won’t. I promise.” There was a brief moment where you regarded each other, before he brought your head back into his chest.

And you struck the ground.

[adventuresinobx]

The Chain

Drew Starkey x fem!reader

Summary: Drew and you decide to go out on a night out, and soon you’re straddling his lap and playing with the chain on his neck. Fair to say, he’s obsessed with that.

A/N: Ok this is my first Drew smut, I hope you like it! Inspired by @starkeyobx’s idea and because she’s OBSESSED with that gold rope chain he wears.

Warnings: Some sexual tension and some smut at the end 👀

“You ready yet babe?” Drew shouted from the sitting room. You had been dating him for six months or so but you’d never been able to visit him at work and thus had never got a chance to meet his friends.

It was a big deal for you and you desperately wanted to impress them all. Drew said the boys were like brothers for him and the girls were like sisters and whilst you’d spoke to Chase and Austin sometimes on FaceTime, you’d never actually met them in person.

“Coming, coming,” you shouted frantically from the bedroom where there were clothes strewn all around the room as you desperately decided what looked best to wear. It was so messy, but you’d clean it up later - you really didn’t have any time now.

“Ok baby,” he shouted back. He was wearing a vest with your favourite green jacket over it, which he teamed with a pair of black jeans. You felt you needed to match him, so decided on a green two piece which hugged your curves perfectly. It exposed a little bit of skin; Drew was a big fan of that and it made you feel confident, which was very important when you were going into a situation that made you feel terribly nervous.

You gave yourself another look in the mirror, checking you looked OK for the 100th time today, before making your way out to the living room. Drew was sat on his phone, a smile on his face. From where you were, you could see what he was looking at, pictures of you and him. It made you melt that he had a whole album dedicated to you both; that was super cute.

“Hey, ready,” you said from where you were standing. He immediately shoved his phone down on the sofa and turned around to where he heard the voice from. 

“Oh wow,” he said, looking you up and down and biting his lip. You smiled back at him, your hands smoothing over your clothes, which sent about 100 thoughts into his head. He was obsessed with you and the way you looked and he needed to get a closer look.

You started moving towards him before he had a chance to do the same to you. “What do you think then?” you asked, spinning around in front of him. He was stood in front of the sofa, his eyes fixed on yours except for those little glances he made to appreciate your body in that outfit. You looked - and felt - so confident.

“That’s -,” he paused for a moment, thinking what the best word to describe it would be. Beautiful, sexy, the nicest outfit you’d ever worn.

“It’s what?” you asked, a teasing tone to your voice as you came closer to him. You pressed your lips on his cheek, smiling into the kiss. “Tell me.”

“Beautiful,” he started, “And sexy. Really sexy.” His hands moved to your sides and he gripped there lightly. He moved his fingers over the sliver of bare skin on show and took a moment to explore the softness of your skin. His hand soon moved back to your waist and you felt him grip a little harder, his eyes scanning your body.

“You look good too,” you said, looking up through your eyelashes at him. God he was so cute - but that outfit was so sexy. You felt so turned on seeing him so dressed up. Most of the time he’d just chill in sweatpants or casual clothes so when he did dress up, he made extra effort and you had to confess - he looked good.

You moved your hands up his chest over the material, letting your fingers brush over him. You sorted out the collar on his jacket, his eyes flicking between yours and the moments your hands were making on him. He swallowed hard when your fingers brushed over his neck briefly, by “accident” of course.

“Have we got five minutes?” you asked, the tone in your voice making it very evident what you wanted. Speechless, he just nodded and you lightly pushed him, causing him to fall back on the sofa. You climbed onto him, straddling him gently and immediately taking the opportunity to grind down onto him. He breathed in deeply at the feeling, his hands moving to your sides as a way of steadying himself, and you.

You moved your hands up his chest and to his shoulders, pushing his jacket off him. You pressed your lips against his, tilting your head before you kissed down his neck and sucked on the sweet spot where there was still the remnants of an old mark you’d caused before.

“Feel good?” you asked him, hearing his breath hitch in his throat and little moans fall from his lips. He didn’t answer with words, only with a little groan. “You know what’s really sexy?” you said, thinking out loud, “This chain. When did you get it?”

He swallowed nervously, watching as your fingers made your way to his neck. You took the piece of jewellery in your hand and sighed as you felt the cool metal passing between your thumb and forefinger. He just watched on, mouth agape but his hands gripped tighter on your waist. “It’s really - hot,” you whispered, noting how he bit his lip as you played with the chain.

He usually always wore this fancy diamond looking one for his nights out, but you had a new favourite. The gold rope chain hung off his neck and perfectly matched the two rings he wore on his fingers. Something about this chain made you even more attracted to him. Not all men could pull of jewellery, but god he could.

You carefully glided your fingers over it and then lifted it a little so you could run your hands over his neck too. The sensation of the cool metal and the shivers coming from his body as you touched it like this made you push your hips down into his. A loud moan emitted from his mouth as he bucked his hips up to meet yours, his excitement clearly showing as you used one hand to reach down and palm him through his clothes.

“So good,” he said, his hands gripping hard on your hips as he rolled them up to meet yours again and again. It felt so good and you could feel the excitement building up for you too as you desperately tried to get some friction from him. It felt so good and the roughness of his grip was making you really wet.

“Take these off,” you moaned, tugging at the belt of his trousers, “And get these off me too.”

He wouldn’t need any more encouragement and soon there were clothes all over the floor and he had managed to flip you over so he was now on top of you, hovering over you as he reached down between your thighs.

He brushed his fingers over your clit a few times, spreading the wetness he’d caused all over your core so he could have an easier entrance. He rubbed your slit again, up and down a few times, before taking some of your wetness and rubbing it over his cock.

“Need you,” he moaned out, lining himself up and using his hand to control himself as he rubbed the tip over your clit a few times. You gasped at the feeling, desperate for it too and within moments he was pushing inside you.

He was slow at first, til he got in all the way. He paused for a moment, just savouring all of this and the way your walls tensed and pulsed around him. He’d do this forever if he could, and that was what he had planned to do.

“Please move,” you begged, reaching up to run your fingers over his chain and neck one more time. Without any moment of hesitation, he pulled out nearly all the way before pushing inside you. The rhythm started slow at first but soon he was thrusting into you at a fast but rhythmic speed. You couldn’t even control the moans that were coming from your mouth as you desperately pushed your hips up to take him in even further.

“Look so fucking good,” he groaned, “Taking my cock like that.” He wasn’t always like this but sometimes this more - dominating - side came out. He kept his thrusts up as he felt your walls clench around him. He knew it was only a matter of moments now.

You screamed out, grabbing onto whatever part of him you could as you rode out your high, him soon finishing too. His hot seed spurted inside you, coating your walls and making your clench your walls together, only adding to the sensation he was feeling.

“Good girl,” he said, slowing his thrusts down as you desperately clutched onto him. It all felt too good, it was too much and now suddenly the room returned to you and you realised just what had happened.

“I think we’re going to be late,” he laughed, climbing off you and looking at his watch to confirm the time was indeed past when you said you were going to meet the others. He grabbed some tissue from the side and cleaned himself off before taking a step towards the bathroom so he could get a wet cloth to help clean you up too. Before he could go too far, you called him back.

“Not a great first impression is it?” you joked, leaning up to kiss him on the lips, savouring the moment.

taglist (pls let me know if you want to be added 🥰)

@starkeyobx @lovelyhedgehog44 @gryffindorpouge11 @jjmaybankmakesmecry @maybankforlife2 @bayy2452 @proactivetypeofgirl @hoebx @fangirlfree @severa-kane @lovedetlost @slutforsmutsstuff @smokingbeersdrinkingweed @raiinyhood @samxslaughter @babeyglo @infatuatedjanes @ailee-celeste @malums-trash-can

[marwritesgood]

Leaving Like a Father | S. Harrington

Pairing: Steve x Hopper!Reader*

Timeframe: Seasons 2-3

Summary: [Based on Cardigan - Taylor Swift] Y/n’s resentment towards her father reaches an all-time high just before the battle against the Mind Flayer.

tw: daddy issues

masterlist - PART ONE

*note: this follows the same timeline as ‘CARDIGAN’ but is focused on the reader’s father-daughter relationship with Hopper.

November, 1982

Y/n was half-asleep on the worn-out couch when the sound of heavy footsteps on the front porch made her jolt. She inhaled deeply and sat up straight, before listening closely to the person outside her front door. When she heard keys fumbling and a quiet groan, she quickly realised it was the very person she had staying up for.

After letting out a sight, Y/n push herself up and off the sofa and rubbed her eyes as she approached the front door. She unlocked it and pulled it open before exhaling heavily when she saw her Chief Hopper lying down on top of the doormat, just about passed out.

"Dad," she groaned, kicking his legs just firmly enough to wake him up again. Before he could make a failed attempt at standing up on his own, Y/n bent down and swung one of his arms over her shoulder to help him.

"It's ok... 'm ok, bug," Hopper mumbled as he stepped inside. He pulled his arm away from Y/n and stumbled his way into their home. Even as a drunken mess, he was still as stubborn as he was sober.

"You were supposed to pick me up from work," Y/n reminded him, crossing her arms and frowning. She knew she shouldn't have taken his word for it, but considering what day it was, she allowed herself to do so once more.

It ended the same way it always did, her being disappointed and alone.

"I'm sorry, bug," Hopper huffed, placing his hand on the couch to stabilise his feet enough to turn around and face his daughter. "There was um... there was a holdup at the uh... at the station."

Y/n watched him closely. He didn't really think she would buy that? Even from across the room, she could smell the alcohol and tobacco remnants. She sighed and uncrossed her arms, too tired to react. Instead, she turned to the dining table and the empty plate she set specifically for him.

"There's some food leftover if you're hungry. I made enough for both of us... like I said I would," Y/n explained deflatedly, unable to hide the trace of disappointment in her tone.

He promised her this time would be different. That they would have dinner together like they did when there was four of them in that house. Y/n quickly regretted ever believing him.

"Not tonight, bug," Hopper sighed, not even stopping to acknowledge his sorrowful daughter and the table she had meticulously set hours ago.

Y/n took a few steps towards him as he approached his bedroom, but before she could even mutter a plea, her father slammed his door shut and twisted the lock immediately after.

Any other night, she would have burst into quiet tears, but not that night. She had no more tears left in her, much less any hope that things would be different. Instead, she turned back to the food she had laid out and began putting it away, with it, the plates and cutlery and any faith she once had of a conversation with her dad that didn't end in disappointment.

Once the table was clear and the kitchen was somewhat tidy, Y/n pulled out the box of cupcakes she kept in the refrigerator as well as the candle she left on the bench. She sat alone at the table and put the candle on one of the cupcakes before igniting it with one of the many lighters her dad left lying around the house.

After inhaling once, Y/n closed her eyes and spent her one birthday wish praying, by some miracle, her dad would still be home by the time she woke up and not passed out in front of a bar with an empty pill container and beer bottle in the cup holder of his battered truck.

Even after years of disappointment and having to figure out things for herself, Y/n could not yet bring herself to hate the shell of a man her father had become. Although it was clear to her that he was never going to be the caring and reliable father she desperately needed him to be for so long, in the midst of it all, Y/n was still his daughter.

"Happy birthday, bug," she whispered to herself, hoping it would give her a fraction of the comfort it would if he at least said it before slamming his door in her face, but to no avail. After putting the cupcakes back and dragging herself to bed, hoping to get at least a few hours of rest before school.

***

September, 1984

Y/n stifled a yawn as she waved goodbye to Steve before turning back to her door and letting herself in. Her closing shifts at the video store always left her feeling eager to collapse into her beloved bed. As she turned the doorknob and pushed, she was startled to see their kitchen a mess and living room sofa occupied by her dad and El, sound asleep.

She carefully stepped inside and gently closed the door behind her. There was an empty packet of chips on the coffee table and the remote seemed to have fallen out of Hopper hands and onto the carpeted floor assumably when he fell asleep.

It had become a sort of tradition for him and El to watch tv together on Friday nights in the months following her living with them. It was a tradition that left Y/n feeling agitated and conflicted.

She approached their messy dining table and tried her best not to read too much into it. Tried her best not to pay attention to the way her Dad managed to sober up and take on less hours at the station just to keep El company. Tried her best not to feel to envious and bitter every time she glanced back at the two of them; at the quiet smiles on both their faces despite their state of slumber.

Y/n tried not to wonder what that must have felt like, knowing that trail of thought would only leave her in tears.

After clearing the table, she packed away the food left on the bench back into the refrigerator and pantry, she heard her dad groan. Y/n turned to the couch and saw him stretch his arms out, letting loose a yawn before noticing the now clean dining table and his eldest standing in the kitchen.

"Oh hey, you're home," he chuckled softly, rising from the couch but not without ensuring his movement did not disturb El.

It was still unsettling for Y/n to see him act with such consideration. He had somewhat sobered up in just over a matter of months and transformed into a half-decent example of a father. He had become exactly what Y/n hoped he would be, but it wasn’t for her sake. It was for El’s.

"How was work?"

Hopper approached the his eldest in the kitchen, thought his eyes remained glued on his youngest right until his calloused hands felt the cool surface of the kitchen bench top.

"Fine," Y/n answered shortly, before dusting her hands off and reaching gratefully for the cardboard box left on the edge of the counter. She never had enough time to pick up dinner after a closing shift and hoped Hopper finally remembered. "You and El had pizza?"

As she began opening the box she looked up at her dad, only to witness him avert his eyes and attention once more. Even in her sleep, Y/n thought. She promptly shrugged it off as her growling stomach demanded her attention.

"Yeah, we did,” her father chuckled. “She came up with funniest name for pepperonis-"

Hopper’s words were cut short when he turned back to Y/n and watched her stare at the empty pizza box with stifled disappointment. He sighed, suddenly remembering the promise he made to save enough food for her to have for dinner when she got home.

"I'm sorry we completely forgot-"

"It's fine,” Y/n snapped, before inhaling sharply and deciding to once again bite her tongue. She softened her expression and met Hopper’s guilty eyes. “I was gonna go to bed anyways."

He knew she was lying but didn’t see the point in call her out on it. It’d likely end in another argument and it’d been a while since their last. Hopper didn’t want to go back there.

"Oh ok,” he nodded, watching her closely as she left the kitchen and headed for her bedroom. He contemplated not saying anything further but, just as she reached for the doorknob, he threw caution to the wind. “Goodnight, bug.”

Hopper couldn’t remember the last time he’d said that to her. Y/n couldn’t either. Perhaps that was why she froze for a moment and, against her better judgement, glanced over her shoulder.

“Night dad,” she replied quietly.

Before turning to the empty bed she’d spent the last five hours yearning for, Y/n pushed her bedroom door behind her, making sure to leave a small gap. It was a silly rule that she never previously cared enough for to follow diligently, but on nights like these she didn’t care enough to wilfully defy it.

As she shifted things around her room whilst getting ready to sleep, Y/n peeked a quick glance into the living room, curious as to whether or not her father was still there. She felt herself freeze again, but this time the feeling in her stomach was far from pleasant.

Y/n watched with an involuntary frown as Hopper placed a blanket over El while she continued to sleep soundly on the living room couch. He was so attentive and thoughtful with her. So loving and affectionate even when she was not awake to appreciate it.

Had he always been capable of being that way or did El bring out a fatherly side in him he never felt obliged to show when it was just her? Y/n’s stomach turned. She was unsure whether she wanted to scream or burst into tears.

Before she could make a conscious, her hand flew and slammed the door shut completely.

***

June, 1985

Y/n slammed the front door shut and sped across to the kitchen, too determined to get to the refrigerator to let the sting of her tears and her blurred vision hinder her. Thankfully, she had dipped into her hidden stash of ice cream enough times to do it by muscle memory alone.

Get the ice cream, get the spoon, take the lid off and indulge. Just like always, only this time Y/n hugged the ice cream tub to her chest and raced to her bedroom. She wanted to sink into the comfort of her beloved bed and not get up until absolutely necessary.

After kicking her shoes off her feet and tossing her bag and jacket aside, she sat on her bed. However, just before she fully lie down and being her wallowing process, her bedroom door was pushed open and El cautiously stepped in.

“Y/n? Are you ok?”

She held he hands behind her back and didn’t take a step further, not until she was sure she was wanted. Y/n sighed as she contemplated putting on a brave face so El wouldn’t worry, before ultimately realising she now knew her well enough to see through such lies. Maybe that wasn’t a bad thing.

“… No,” Y/n admitted, sniffling as she scooped another spoonful of ice cream. “Not really, El.”

She was a pitiful mess. It was clear as day. Even so, admitting she was hurting bruised the fragile ego and pride Y/n had worked so hard to maintain. Somehow she preferred it happened in front of El as opposed to just about anyone else.

“Can I stay? Or do you want to be alone?”

El knew from observation that Y/n often liked to be alone in her room when she was upset or angry. It was a detail easy to deduce after watching Hopper get ignored or turned away anytime he tried to apologise for to her something, which happened rather frequently. El was so sure this time was no different, so she stood in the doorway ready to back away.

Much to her surprise, Y/n offered a small and gracious smile before patting empty spot on her bed beside her. El grinned before assuming her spot, revealing the spoon she held behind her back just in case she got the chance to eat Y/n’s special ice cream with her.

“Did something happen?”

El was not oblivious to Y/n’s puffy eyes and wet cheeks. She had never seen Y/n cry before. She felt a strange urge to find out who was responsible and find a way to telepathically torment them.

“Steve and I broke up,” Y/n explained, her voice shaky. She tried to think a child-friendly way of explaining the reason to El. “He… kissed another girl. And it turns out he’s been lying to me about it for a while.”

El’s nostrils flared. She hated lying. However, it became clear to her that she hated seeing her big sister upset even more. Now she hated Steve for being the reason for it. Why did boyfriends lie?

“Boys are dumb,” El grumbled.

“They really are,” Y/n groaned.

“Max says when boyfriends lie, you give him the medicine and dump his ass.”

Y/n furrowed her brows and looked up at El who held her head high with a small smirk. They stared at each other silently before bursting into fits of laughter simultaneously.

As they recovered and began scooping out more ice cream, Y/n pondered as to why Max would give El that advice. Maybe they both needed her secret tub of chocolate ice cream fro similar reasons.

“Did something happen with you and Mike?”

The young girl nodded her head as she scooped a spoonful of ice cream. She was beginning to understand why Y/n always kept a tub hidden in their freezer.

“There was no nana,” El explained, knowing Y/n would understand what she meant. After establishing their ‘sisters dont tell secrets’ pact, El confided in her sister about almost everything. “Mike lied to me.”

“So did you dump his ass?” Y/n smirked.

Her younger sister nodded her head and laughed as she recounted the moment it happened. She felt so exhilarated.

“Good,” Y/n smiled as she scraped the sides of the now half empty ice cream tub. “We deserve boyfriends who tell us the truth.”

Y/n hoped saying it would convince her and provide her some ounce of comfort. That maybe then she’d start to believe the downfall of her relationship with Steve started and ended with him. But there was a small part of her that felt discontent with that. A small part that questioned if there was something she did or didn’t do that landed her in the position she was now in.

Luckily, before she could trail further into that rabbit hole, El continued to talk to her about how dumb boys could be. Y/n never thought she’d be so grateful her plans for a quiet night alone got disrupted. El was good company.

By the time Hopper got home from the station, he was puzzled by quiet. Instinctively, he went to check El’s room first and was surprised to see all but an empty bed. However, when he walked past his eldest’s room, he stopped in his tracks when he saw the two of them sleeping.

He couldn’t help but smile.

The following morning, Y/n woke up extra early just so she could make a phone call out to the Wheeler residence. She knew she needed to give herself at left a good twenty minutes to explain everything that had happened to Nancy.

After their conversation, she raced to the bathroom and got ready as quickly as she could. Hopper wasn’t working until the afternoon, so she hoped it meant she could leave without having to respond to his interrogation.

Just in case, she donned a pair of sunglasses in an attempt to hide her eyes that were still puffy from all the crying she did the night before and in the shower that very morning.

As she exited her room and headed for the kitchen, she saw her dad standing by the phone. Before she could reach the kitche table, where El sat quietly with a bowl of cereal, Hopper held the phone out to his eldest.

“Y/n, Steve’s on the phone,” he explained.

Y/n wore a sarcastic smile that only El saw for its true nature. Hopper was none the wiser. The younger girl took a spoonful of cereal and paid close attention to her older sister, curious to see what she would do next.

“Oh he is?”

The older girl approached their telephone just as her dad backed away and retreated to his seat at the table and his plate of eggs and bacon. Y/n held the phone to her chest and turned to her little sister.

“El, block your ears,” she ordered. The younger girl did so without a hesitation nor any follow up questions. Y/n finally brought the phone to her ear and confronted her ex. “Go fuck yourself!”

She slammed the phone down so aggressively, Hopper was surprised nothing broke. He watched with concern as Y/n approached the refrigerator silently, as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

“Um… are you feeling ok, bug?”

Hopper studied his eldest daughter closely. He had a feeling her spontaneous decision to wear sunglasses was more calculated than it appeared. Y/n poured herself a glass of orange juice and bit into a piece of plain toast.

“I’m fine,” Y/n asserted as he chewed. She glanced at the clock and took a sip of her juice. “I just need to eat something fast. Nancy and Jonathan will be here soon.”

“Steve’s not picking you up?”

El widened her eyes in terror and tried her best to silently communicate to him that it was in his best interest he stop asking follow-up questions.

“Obviously not if Jonathan and Nancy are going to be here soon!” Y/n retorted, irritated by her dad’s questions just as El suspected. “Are you even listening to me?”

Hopper turned to El and narrowed his eyes as the young girl shook her head rapidly, clearly warning him to leave the older girl alone. Despite El’s best attempts, their father remained relentleess.

“You know, if there’s something going on, I’m here if you wanna-“

“Oh my god, dad, I’m fine!” Y/n yelled, putting her dishes in the sink just roughly enough to make a sound that punctuated her annoyance.

If it had been anyone else interrogating her about why she was acting differently, perhaps Y/n wouldn’t respond with such aggression. But this was her father. The man who once went weeks without speaking a word to her. The man who had the nerve to voice his disapproval of her dating Steve as if his judgement of character meant anything to her.

She wasn’t ready to let him know how she was feeling, nor was she ready to admit that Steve wasn’t the stand up guy she insisted he was.

“I’m perfectly fine,” Y/n repeated, her voice all the more irritated. “Do I not seem fine to you? El, do I not seem fine?”

“She’s fine,” El agreed immediately, not missing a beat.

“See, I’m fine!”

Hopper gulped, completely taken aback. There was clearly something his daughter knew that he didn't but before he could make another failed attempt at getting a straight answer out of Y/n, Nancy and Jonathan arrived to pick her up and take her to her morning shift.

He waited until she closed the door behind her before turning to his youngest. Hopper hoped El's distaste for liars would mean she would finally give him the truth. The young girl continued to eat her cereal, oblivious to Hopper's attentive eye.

“El," he began, narrowing his eyes. "Did something happen between Steve and Y/n?”

El chewed slowly before looking up at Hopper, who studied her closely. He was so sure she was about to cave and tell him everything. But instead, she shrugged.

“Sisters don’t tell secrets.”

***

July, 1985

Y/n sat at an empty table of the Starcourt mall's food court and sipped the water bottle Steve had gotten her. He was saying something about how there was no telling if the truth serum had completely worn off yet, until he realised Y/n's attention was elsewhere.

She watched from a distance as Hopper put a bandaid on the small cut long El's temple. She continued to study the two of them as he seemingly said something comforting to her before pulling her in for a hug. She hoped that after a year of sitting on sideline and watching her dad look after El it wouldn't affect her as much as it used to. But it still stung just harshly. It still hurt just as bad.

"Hey," Steve whispered, placing his hand on Y/n's wrist. Finally she looked away. "You ok?"

It was his attempt at testing to see if the truth serum had worn off yet. Before Y/n could lie through her teeth and cast her feelings aside, she involuntarily spoke as she rose from her seat.

“Obviously not," she muttered quietly before heading towards the portion of the foodcourt everyone else was gathered at. Steve followed her closely, concerned about what the truth serum would do to her.

As they listened in on what the goal was and the different groups everyone was splitting off into, Steve's attention remained with Y/n. There was something about her demeanour that made him anxious.

Even as she approached El and hugged her tightly, Steve's worries persisted. He was the only person Y/n confided in about her conflicted feelings towards her dad and towards El. For this reason, he was the only one who noticed the way she suppressed her resentment.

As Y/n pulled away from her little sister, she started to brace herself for the mission ahead. However, her train of though was quickly interrupted as Hopper approached her with knitted brows.

“You’re not staying with El?” He asked in disbelief, a hint of anger in his tone that took Y/n by surprise. He had a real knack for making her feel she was constantly doing something wrong.

“No, I’m gonna go with Steve."

Y/n hadn't realised she needed to justify her decision to Hopper. When he responded with a loud and incredulous scoff, she felt her blood begin to boil.

“Bug, c'mon... you can't be serious.”

“What are you trying to say?” Y/n questioned.

“You’d rather go into the woods with the guy who broke your heart than stay here and look out for your sister? Don’t you think she could use your support?”

Of course Y/n wanted to support El in every way she could, but she didn't have the stomach to watch El battle the mind flayer. She already had her fair share of traumatic experiences and witnessing her loved ones get hurt. Not to mention, Y/n knew nothing about defeating an inter-dimensional beast. However, she did know a thing or two about speeding through Hawkins with only half a tank of gas.

"She'll be ok, dad," Y/n stated sincerely, trying to level with him. He was not the only one worried about El, but he too knew he could be more helpful is he went instead of staying.

"She's 14," Hopper retorted.

"She has supernatural powers," she rebutted, growing annoyed with his insinuation that she was abandoning El. He, of all people, should know what actual abandonment looks like. "And Nancy and Jonathan will be with them."

"Y/n," Hopper warned as she turned around and attempted to leave.

She whipped back around and huffed. Perhaps it was the truth serum or finally being fed up, but she had no urge to stifle her feelings any longer. Steve and El watched with concern.

"What exactly do you expect me to do, dad?" She asked angrily. "Jump in front of the fucking mind Flayer for her?"

Y/n watched as her dad struggled to muster a straight answer. It was unsurprising but still all the more hurtful and enraging. El stepped forward, unable to stand idle and watch the two of the most important people in her life argue over her. Only it wasn't just about El. It was about so much more.

"Hopper I'll be ok,” the young girl assured. “It's ok.”

"It's not ok," Hopper shook his head, his angry and disapproving eyes never leaving Y/n. While he didn't want to fight with his eldest daughter, he couldn't just let it go. "C'mon bug, I thought I raised you to-"

"Raised me?" Y/n repeated, her eyes widened and fist clenched. There was not more tiptoeing around the elephant in the room. No more thinking carefully about her words. All she saw was red, as all her pent up resentment bubbled to the surface. "I'm sorry, since when did coming home drunk every night and disappearing in the morning qualify as raising someone?"

"Are you really gonna drudge up the past when we're in the middle of a crisis?"

Y/n scoffed. Of course he would dismiss what he did and he feelings about it. Of course he would try and convince her to put a cork in it so he could go on living in oblivion. Of course it was easy for him to forget how cruel he was. He wasn't the one who had to stay sober through it all.

“Look, I get that you care more about El than you do about me-“

"That's not true!" Hopper denied immediately.

"Oh, it’s not?” Y/n hissed, convinced he was either in denial or lying to save face in front of El and Joyce. “She gets a fatherly pep talk and a hug, and all I get is you yelling at me for not volunteering to become her human body shield.”

Hopper furrowed his brows, feeling blindsided by his daughter's outburst. He thought they were fine. He thought he was finally making progress with her.

“Where is this coming from?”

“Where is this coming from?" Y/n roared. "It's coming from you leaving me to fend for myself for years... a-and you adopting El and being a better dad to her in a year than you were to me. Ever.”

She thought of the way he justified taking El in to her. How he described her as being just a kid who was on her own. The frustration she felt leaving that conversation was soul crushing. If not for Steve talking her down afterwards and cheering her up with ice cream, she would likely torn her room to shreds.

"I didn't get eggos, o-or encouraging words or meals together. And I never ev-” Y/n's breath hitched as she felt tears begin to pool in her eyes. All while thinking of the one thing she wanted from him, after everything that happened. “I never even got an apology... Or a thank you for putting up with all your shit."

She was lucky to get even a conversation with him. Most days he passed through their house like a silent zombie, and not someone who had a responsibility to look after her.

"And now what?" Y/n cried. "You want me to get killed trying to save El? Is that it? Would that make it easier for you to continue on being father of the century?”

“You know that’s not true,” Hopper winced. She had to know that wasn't true. Losing another one of his daughters was the last thing he could ever want. Y/n shook her head and lowered her voice.

“What I know is that it’s really ironic when you make digs at Steve for hurting me, because that’s exactly what you’ve been doing for most of my life.”

She watched his expression as it twisted and morphed into something she hadn't seen in a long long time. Not since the day they got the phone call from the hospital.

Steve studied Y/n closely, dumbfounded by how quickly her argument with Hopper escalated. He wondered how much of it was due to the truth serum still evident in her system. He, along with everyone else standing in the foodcourt, hoped that it was finally over. That she wouldn't take thing any farther.

She considered ending the conversation and leaving. But there was one last thing weighing heavily on her chest. The one thought she spent years suppressing. Without another moment's deliberation, Y/n threw caution to the wind.

"You know I used to wish I had died with them," she confessed quietly. "-with mom and Sara."

Hopper's face went pale. That was the one topic they never discussed. The one line they both silently agreed to never cross. Y/n was sick of his stupid rules. In that moment, she didn't care how her words would affect him. She just knew how she felt and had no will left to bite her tongue and fake a smile.

"Now, I wish it had just been you instead."

The room fell silent as Y/n turned her back to her dad and sped towards the parking lot. She didn't care for any rebuttal he might have had. She didn't care for the horrified look on his and everyone else's face. She was certain it needed to be said.

"Steve," Hopper called out, prompting the young man to stop and face him, terrified and concerned about what he would say next. The older man sighed defeatedly. "Keep her safe... Please."

It was the only thing he could do and perhaps the only right thing left to say. He always struggled when it came to words, and clearly his actions were quite questionable as well. Maybe the best thing he could do for his eldest daughter was hope she would survive the night safely and pray that, come morning, he'll be able to start rectifying everything he did wrong.

However long it would take.

When Steve caught up to his ex girlfriend, he knew better than to ask her how she was coping. The determined look in her eyes and her stoic demeanour on the drive to the hills was enough for him to know it was in his best interest not to pry. He couldn't help but wonder if she had truly meant to say all that she did, or if she felt some semblance of remorse now she was looking back at it. But Y/n had no regret in that moment. Not one ounce. However, the regret would come later that night, when everyone returned to Starcourt.

Everyone but Hopper.

NEXT PART

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[maximoff-pan]

you are not to blame | peter parker

Summary: From your universe, you’re spider woman. You lost your Peter Parker and it’s all but destroyed you. What happens when you end up somewhere else, meeting a look alike of your Peter, but from a different universe?

Pairing: Tasm!peter parker x fem!reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Warning: mentions of death and violence, *spoilers for nwh*

A/n: there are m a j o r spoilers for nwh in this oneshot so please be warned! I hope you all enjoy this, and I apologize for any inaccuracies from my recollection of the plot/dialogue. I tried to write it all from memory so it probably doesn’t make a ton of sense. And if you’re confused, young peter = tom, tall peter = andrew, and older peter = tobey!

part two

“I just wish we could see him.” Ned waves his arms around, eliciting a spark in the air to appear. Sitting here waiting for Peter was becoming an almost impossible task.

“Ned?” MJ instructs.

“Yeah?”

“Do that again.” She gestures wildly to her best friend.

Ned’s eyes widen as he nods his head in affirmation. “I just wish we could see him.” A spark flickers again. “I just wish we could see Peter!”

This time, a whole portal bursts open, and much to their surprise, Spider-Man is standing on the other end, peering in through an alleyway.

“Is that him?” Ned asks.

MJ narrows her eyes in suspicion. “Yeah.” She doesn’t sound entirely convinced, but who else could it be? “It has to be.”

“Peter! Over here!” They call, ushering him towards them. The figure tilts his head for a moment before jogging through the portal.

It’s a jog that MJ doesn’t recognize, which starts to make her nervous. She looks him up and down briefly as the door Ned had opened closes, and she notices the different suit. And had Peter gotten taller?

“Hi.” He waves, pulling off his mask. MJ and Ned share a glance, this isn’t their Peter.

Ned’s Lola lets out a shriek of fear, threatened by the new presence. “No, no, no. It’s okay. It’s okay.” The stranger speaks, hushing everyone around him. “I’m a good guy.”

His hair looks soft to the touch, MJ thinks. And his eyes are warmly putting her at ease, but she knows she shouldn’t trust him just yet. Even if he does remind her of her boyfriend.

“Who the hell are you?” She asks, her tone laced with as much ice as she can muster.

“I’m Peter Parker.” He replies gesturing to himself.

Ned’s gaze darts to the spider crest on this ‘so called’ Peter’s chest. “That’s impossible.”

The man shakes his head. “I’m Spider-Man. In my world.” He clarifies with a clear of his throat. “But then yesterday, I was just….here.”

“Wow.” They both muse.

This Peter begins to pace around, looking everywhere and anywhere. His surroundings are foreign, and yet they almost feel familiar to him.

“String theory... Multidimensional reality... And matter displacement.” He trails off. “All real?”

Ned smiles at him for a second, recognizing the wonder in his eyes as something he would see from his Peter Parker. “Yeah.”

The tall man lets a laugh bubble from his throat. “I knew it!” He exclaims.

Ned turns to MJ suddenly. “This has to be because of the spell.”

“The spell?” New Peter questions. “Like magic spell?”

“There’s no spell.” MJ backtracks.

Peter questions again, more confused than ever, “no spell?”

“No.” Ned replies unconvincingly.

“So magic’s real here.” A smile lights up on the stranger’s face.

Ned goes to reply but MJ stops him. “Shut up Ned.” She hisses. “I’m gonna need you to prove it.”

Peter takes a step back, gleaning a change in the mood of the room. “Prove what?”

“That you’re Peter Parker.” She pushes, as if he’s supposed to wear a sign on his suit that advertises his personal identity.

This Peter sends her a look of bafflement. “I don’t carry ID.” He furrows his eyebrows in confusion. “Kinda defeats the whole anonymous superhero thing.”

He comes to an abrupt stop when he feels a roll of bread hitting him in the chest. Glancing over, he watches as the girl, MJ as he’s learned, picks up another piece and is standing at the ready.

“Why’d you do that?” He asks, but he feels like he already knows the answer.

She replies, “to see if you have the tingle thing.”

He laughs, running a hand through his hair. “I have the tingle thing. Just not for bread.”

She throws another piece at him as he releases another breath of frustration. “You’re a deeply mistrusting person.” He points. “And I respect it.”

She sends him a look that says both ‘you best believe it,’ and ‘you’re never going to win so you may as well do what I say,’ to which Peter picks up on it tenfold.

He sighs in defeat, reaching up to the ceiling, his fingers gripping it as he hangs there. When he jumps down, he can tell that MJ is still not convinced. “Crawl around.”

“What?” He sputters.

“Crawl around.” She instructs.

“Why?”

“Because it’s not enough.”

He huffs once again, and as much as he wants to push back, he knows it’ll be useless. As he’s about to scale the wall, Ned interrupts him. “While you’re up there, my Lola wants to know if you can grab that cobweb there.” He points to the corner of the wall.

Peter sends them a lopsided smile. “Sure thing.” He says as he scales the wall. When he jumps down, he shoots MJ a look, “believe me now?”

MJ herself huffs in defeat. “For now.” She follows her best friend as he begins to babble.

Ned’s waving his hand wildly, trying to figure out just what he did. “So I opened the portal,” he starts. “To the wrong Spider-Man.”

“Yeah.” MJ confirms as Peter listens intently. “I guess you just keeping trying until you find the real one.”

A scoff falls from the new Peter’s mouth. “Ouch.”

Ned’s eyes widen at the insinuation that this Spider-Man is a lesser one. “Sorry.” He says, “no offence.”

They fall back into a rhythm of silence as Ned prepares to try to find his Peter again. It’s a strange concept for him, this Peter, thinking that there’s another one of him out there.

“Find Peter Parker!” A fiery orb opens and a normal looking man steps through.

“Hello.” The man waves, just like tall Peter had done when he walked through.

Ned and MJ sigh. “Great. It’s just some guy.”

The guy chuckles a bit, a smile forming on his face. “I hope it’s okay I just came through this…” He turns back to look at the portal behind him, “It just closed.”

MJ shoots this newer stranger a look of confusion. “Who are you?”

“Peter Parker.” He replies.

“So you’re Spider-Man too?” Ned asks. And when the man nods he says, “Why didn’t you just say so?”

“I don’t really go around advertising it. Kind of defeats the whole anonymous superhero thing.”

Tall Peter tilts his head in bewilderment, “I just said that.”

“He just said that.” MJ echos him.

Everyone seems to be caught up in the whole who’s who game of Peter Parkers, but out of the corner of his eye, older Peter can see this Ned kid waving his hands around again, and before he knows it, another portal is opening.

This time it opens from the sky, and the person who comes through it is screaming bloody murder.

“Fucking bullshit.” You hit the ground with a loud thud. Standing up and dusting yourself off, you turn around to face a whole room of people. Coughing in embarrassment, you mutter an apology. “Sorry.”

Older Peter steps forward, taking charge. “Who the hell are you?”

“I don’t know.” You say, quickly realizing your mistake. “I mean, shit, I do know. I’m (Y/n).” You fumble your words. “What I meant to say, is I don’t where I am.”

MJ glances at you in suspicion, sizing you up slightly. “This whole time we’ve been searching for Peter Parker, Spider-Man. Why would you show up all of a sudden?”

“You’re not Peter, nor are you a man.” Ned affirms.

You place your hand over your chest. “You don’t know that!” You fake offence. “I could just happen to be a very feminine man. What would you say then, huh?” Their eyes widen. “And how do you know my name’s not Peter?”

“You just told us it’s (Y/n).”

“Oh.” You deflate. “Right.”

“I like her.” Another voice pipes in. “I say we trust her.”

All of a sudden, your world halts. That voice, that face. “Peter?” You whisper as he steps into your view. Your Peter. But very clearly not your Peter. He doesn’t know who you are; he just looks like yours. That makes your heart clench even more.

If they notice your shock, they don’t indicate it. They continue to talk amongst themselves about the multiverse, and helping and finding this universe’s Peter Parker. You’re listening, but at the same time, you’re not. It’s almost like their voices are radio static, and you’re trying desperately to tune into them.

It’s working in bits. You pick up little pieces of their conversation, enough to put it together, until you can force yourself to snap out of your panicked state.

“Is there some place he would go that has meaning to him?” Older Peter’s voice breaks though. “Like a place where he would go to-“

“To get away from everything.” Tall Peter interjects and they both nod at one another.

“For me it was the top of the Chrysler building.”

“Empire State.” Both you and the look alike of your Peter muse in unison. You share a look of understanding. “Better view.”

MJ steps forward, eyeing you down. “Why would you need to get away from anything? I thought you were just, normal.” She pauses.

“I may not be Peter Parker, but I do know what it’s like to carry his burden. Your burden.” You say gesturing to the two Peters. “In my universe, I’m somewhat of a Spider-Man myself. Spider-Woman I guess you could say. I knew a Peter Parker once, and I would do anything to help yours.”

MJ smiles at you, starting to let her guard down with you. “I think I know exactly where he’d go.”

• • • • • •

“Peter.” MJ’s tone is soft, much softer than she had been with you. “There’s some people here to see you.”

When you get a look at him, the first thing you notice is how young he is. He’s just a kid, you think. A kid who looks understandably scared.

“Sorry... About May.” Older Peter steps forward. “I got some understanding of what you're going through...”

“No,” this universe’s Peter pleads. “Please don't tell me that you know what I'm going through. She's gone and it’s all my fault.”

His words break your heart, and you’re sure it has the same effect on the men beside you. Each of you has lost people you love, people you’d die for, only for it to feel like it’s all your fault, even if it wasn’t. It took you years to realize that. Sometimes you find yourself falling back into that mindset. Peter died because of me. He died because I wasn’t quick enough, I couldn’t save him. But you know you can’t let yourself think that way, or else you might not come back from that darkness this time.

“I'm gonna do what I should've done in the first place.” Young Peter says. “You don't belong here. Any of you,” he points to each of you, “so I'm sending you home.”

“You don’t have to do this alone.” You speak up for the first time since you’d laid eyes on the boy. Maybe you could help him the way you couldn’t help your Peter. Maybe this time, you could save him.

He shakes his head dismissively. “Those other guys are from your worlds, right?” He asks with a venom seeping through his voice. He’s angry, you get it. “So you deal with it. If they die, if you kill them... That's on you. It's not my problem. I don't care anymore.”

“Peter-“ MJ tries to reason…

“Look,” he cuts her off. “I'm really sorry that I dragged you into this. But you have to go home now.”

There’s a silence that blankets itself over all of you, and you’re just waiting for who’s going to break it.

It’s older Peter who does. “My Uncle Ben was killed.” His eyes close as he takes in a breath. “It was my fault.”

“I lost... I lost Gwen.” Tall Peter’s voice sends shivers through your spine. “My... She was my MJ.” You place a hand on his shoulder reassuringly. “I couldn't save her. I'm never gonna be able to forgive myself for that. But I carried on. Tried to keep going. Tried to keep being the...friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, because I know that's what she would have wanted. But...at some point, I just...I stopped pulling my punches. I got rageful.” He pauses, his voice nearly cracking. “I got bitter. And I just don't want you, to end up like, like me.”

“Like me.” You whisper, the ghost of your Peter’s last words dying on this Peter’s lips… I don’t want you to end up like me…is what he’d said to you before he died in your arms.

Everyone turns to you, their eyes burning straight through your soul. It’s like they’re waiting for some kind of big response from you, for you to share your story.

“I, uh,” you avert your gaze to the ground, your voice faltering ever so slightly. “I had a Peter Parker in my universe. He was my partner, my Spider-Man. We knew the risks, I mean, it was just a part of the job. I was used to him getting hurt, and he was used to me getting hurt. We’d always patch each other up, and every time we got better.”

Your breath hitches, catching in your throat. “Until one day, he didn’t. He got hurt… really bad. And he didn’t,” you pause, “he didn’t make it.”

MJ reaches over to place a soothing hand on your arm. “I’m so sorry.” She whispers. She couldn’t imagine losing her Peter like you had lost yours.

Young Peter glances at you with tears in his eyes. You can feel each other’s pain radiating off your bodies, and strangely, it makes you both feel more connected to the situation you’re being faced with.

“I can still hear her voice in my head.” He says, his eyes still on you. “Even after she was hurt, she said to me that we did the right thing. She told me that with great power...”

“Comes great responsibility.” The three Peters finish in unison.

“How do you know that?” He asks.

“Uncle Ben said it.” They reply. “The day he died.”

You smile at the interaction, sending the youngest Spider-Man a nod of encouragement and understanding. “Maybe she didn't die for nothing, Peter.”

And for just a moment, he smiles back.

• • • • • •

“Okay, so,” young Peter starts, “I think that I can repair the devices for Dillon and Marko, but the others...” He trails off.

“I got Connors.” Your Peter’s look alike confirms. “I've already cured him once, so no big deal.” When everyone gives him a look of surprise, he replies, “What? It's no big deal.”

“Great. Yeah.” Older Peter chirps. “That's great. I think I can make an antiserum for Doctor Osborn. Been thinking about it for a long time.”

“Gotta cure all of them. Right?” The Peter of this universe turns to you, raising his brows.

“Right.” You affirm. “That's what we do.”

When you all separate, you notice that you divide very much based on age and familiarity. Younger Peter sticks next to MJ, with Ned just off to the side, who occasionally drifts to check on the oldest Peter. You and tall Peter sit side by side, your elbows grazing one another. A couple feet from you is older Peter, who although he’d deny it if you said anything, is observing Peter and MJ comfort each other.

“You said you’ve cured Connors before?” You ask the Peter who’s seated to your left.

He nods his head, fingers tapping the desk rhythmically. “Mhm.”

“Wish I could say the same.”

He stops what he’s doing and looks at you with those deep brown eyes, so much life in them. So much love. They search yours for an answer, and you think he finds it when you see a look of realization dawn on his face. “Connors.” He grimaces. “That’s how he died? Your Peter?”

He doesn’t need you to nod, doesn’t need you to speak to know that that’s exactly what happened.

“I got an internship with Dr. Connors in college. We were nineteen, and Peter warned me the work he was doing was no good.” Tears well up in your eyes, threatening to fall. You haven’t had to tell this story in a long time; you’ve tried like hell not to have to. “But I didn’t listen. I thought I knew better, so I helped him make the genetic code that would regenerate his arm. And when everything went wrong, and Connors became this lizard creature, I panicked.”

Peter reaches over to place your hand in his as he rubs him thumb gently back and forth. He hums, “it’s okay.”

“Peter and I,” you fumble, “we fought him, but we didn’t cure him. Connors killed Peter, and I killed Connors.”

“I’m so sorry.” He says.

You lift your head to look at him, and try to give him a smile, even if it is half hearted. “It was my fault, and there’s no way around that. I just wish I could have been like you.” Your words strike Peter hard. “If I had just been smarter, maybe I could have made the cure, and he would still be alive.”

“Hey,” he tries. “I’ve played that game. I’ve seen how that goes…And it doesn’t end well. You’re not to blame. Not one little bit.” He says. “The only person at fault is Connors. He’s the only one responsible.”

You’re grateful to him, more than he could ever know. More than you think he could ever understand. And even though you’ve only known each other for a matter of hours, you feel like you know him like the back of your hand. Undeniably and nearly unexplainably, this Peter Parker feels the exact same. The pause in the conversation is brief, but it allows you the time to think.

“He looked like you, you know?” You intertwine your fingers with his. “My Peter.”

“Really?”

“Exactly like you.”

Eyebrows raised and mouth parted slightly open, a look of shock rests on his face. “I can’t imagine how hard that is. I’m surprised you don’t hate me.”

You cock your head to the left. “How could I ever hate you?”

He hums lightly. “Every time you see me, you see him. You’re reminded of him.”

“It’s hard.” You agree, pondering your response. You’ve been thinking about this conversation since the moment you laid eyes on this version of Peter Parker. “And I know you’re not him, but it almost feels like I’m getting some sort of second chance. I get to see his face again, hear his voice…I get to feel like, even for a moment, I’m not so alone.”

Peter turns to face you, leaning forward to rest his forehead against yours. “As long as I’m breathing, you’ll never be alone.”

Closing your eyes and letting out a breath of relief, for the first time in forever, you think: I am not alone…

I am not to blame.

///////////

tags: @krishavania @dumb-bisexual @crashed-on-mars @nerdygirl8203 @writersmaydream