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luxraine · 10 months

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"Why is loving you not fair?"

Earth 1610! Miles x Reader: angst with a happy ending.

word count: 2.3k

Author's note: This is inspired by littyhoney. As my first post, feedback would be appreciated. I sincerely apologize for any of the poor spanish translation as I am not fluent, but I still tried for the sake of the character. I hope you enjoy this one as much as I enjoyed writing it. ♡

You, [Name] [Last Name] grew up in Brooklyn, New York. The city that is so compelling, with numerous crimes making appearances over the years. But the said city wasn’t any less beautiful with Spiderman, serving as its hero for more than 10 years and preventing fear and terror from taking over the citizens. Growing up, your parents have been out of the picture due to an Incident involving Spiderman and the villains who he was fighting against. No matter how hard it was to force yourself to mature faster than any normal kid resulting from the absence of your parents, you never blamed Spiderman for failing to save them. You understood the responsibilities that come with being a hero and to your eyes, he will always be. You have an older sibling, who is the reason why you managed to keep your childhood home. But the only thing is that they live in another state because of their job. It didn’t make you feel lonely, though. And you owe it to the Davis, whose family your parents were close with. Mrs. Rio, who treats you so kindly and invites you in for every lunch and dinner to eat the meals she deliciously makes and Mr. Jefferson, who never forgets to make you feel welcome in his home.

But on top of that… Miles. Miles Morales, the courteous boy you did everything together with, the overprotective boy who instructed you to update him on whatever you do and wherever you go, and the boy who has your heart.

Having to live and raise yourself on your own, you believe in achieving things through hard work. That’s how it is and always has for you. However, there is one thing that you’ll never be able to have.

His heart.

No matter how much love, passion, and patience you put into it.

Ever since he got bitten by a radioactive spider, which alternated his dna and gave him spider-like abilities, you couldn’t be more proud of Miles. The boy has always been wanting to prove himself throughout his life, that by doing the things he’s passionate about can bring changes into his life that is full of expectations. Ever since you found out, you have been with him through thick and thin. Never once doubting his capabilities. Being in your family who has a record for being geniuses in science and technology allowed you to be a use of your best friend, Spiderman. By giving database information to be able to catch bad guys, to adding features to his spider suit. You were the one constantly making adjustments to his web shooters, by enhancing its strength and expanding its abilities. You provided him with support and company, along with loving him silently over the years. Being involved with the spider allowed him to meet Gwen Stacy, another spider with blonde hair and a pair of blue eyes. A girl who Miles seemed to fall head over heels in such an unbelievably short amount of time. Frequently fonding, talking, and making sketches about her.

“In every universe, Gwen Stacy falls for Spiderman.” You wish the universe favoured you like how Miles’ parents clearly favoured you over Gwen the moment she displayed an ill mannered gesture by addressing them by their first names. But at the end of the day, you knew that Mrs. and Mr. Davis would eventually have to come to an acceptance. A nature every parent would have seeing their son being fond of a girl so dearly.

…

You woke up in a dark, cold room. With the flickering of the little light that illuminates the place and the incredibly tense atmosphere surrounding you, you recall the events that previously took place. You arrived back into your dimension. At least you thought you did, as something was incredibly wrong when you saw the figure of Uncle Aaron, well and alive. And something was certainly wrong when you saw the mural of the remembrance of Mr. Jefferson, and beside it was you. You were dead, apparently. The spider that bit Miles wasn’t from your dimension and when it scanned him, you two were sent where the spider was originally from. You didn’t go back home.

You studied the stone cold, dark room, the sense of familiarity creeped up. You recognized that this was Uncle Aaron’s place, where Miles would often go to hang out with his uncle, who he can be himself around with. Your eyes caught the sight of the figure who was tied up against the punching bag. “Miles!” you called, attempting to wake him up from unconsciousness. You were about to approach him when an arm grabbed you all of a sudden, yanking you back gently. Your eyes widened, it was someone in the familiar Prowler suit. However, the height and the figure of the man in the suit tells you that unlike in your dimension, this was not Uncle Aaron. “...Shh, mi querida.” (...Shh, my darling). Your blood turned cold, that voice… no no no. “Let me go!” You managed to let out, your heart beating at a fast rate as you hoped that what you were feeling was wrong. “I’m afraid, I cannot do that.” The alluring voice chuckled so softly. You repeatedly tried pulling back your arm from his grasp. You can’t stay here any longer as danger awaits for Mr. Jefferson and Mrs. Rio. You have to escape with Miles and save them. The hand covered in dark gloves moved towards your cheeks, caressing it. You tried to budge but that moved him to push you towards the table, trapping you in between his arms.

You came back to him and he won’t let you leave ever again.

“W… Who are you?” He adjusted the mask that is covering his face, revealing two long braids, and

“No!” … confirming your suspicion. “I’m Miles Morales. But you… you can call me the Prowler.” Your heart broke at the sight of this Miles. He seems rather solemn, than giving off a bright energy like the Miles you have. And the usual glint in his eyes that makes you melt is missing. They no longer shine. “Miles…” you trailed off. Oh how he missed you calling out his name so captivating. “Soy yo, hermosa.” (It’s me, beautiful.) He responded, eyes not leaving the sight of your beautiful, well built perfect body. You didn’t change, still being the [Name] he loved and believed that he would never stop loving. “Miles, you have to let us go.” You begged. “Why would I do that?” He tilted his head, “It is my job… as the Prowler.” Your eyes widened in epiphany, “There’s a world out there with no Spiderman to protect them because it bit you instead!”. “I am the Prowler because this world offers nothing but agony. It took my dad and it took you from me.” The crack in his voice while mentioning you made your heart drop. Like you and your Miles, he too, had his [Name] and they were also close-

Now you felt your heart being torn apart. The names… the endearing names he has called you!“Now that you’re back, I’ll make sure this time that you’ll never leave.” You turn to look at the burning desire painted deep in his eyes, staring at you. “Hey, bonita…” (Hey, pretty…) He moved his thumb over the corner of your lip, “You never seem to change, do you? … still looking just as pretty as you were the day you left.” His lips curled up into a smirk.

He said the words that would make your heart sing, If only he was the Miles from your world.

“...Please, you have to let us go. He’s needed before anything bad happens to his father.” You whispered weakly. Your heart, your voice, everything wanted to give up but you remained wanting to be strong for both you and Miles, who is not yet awake. Miles’ eyes narrowed while glancing at his other self, he couldn’t hide the envy he was feeling. He let out a hum, turning back to you. “The love you feel for him is deep within your heart. Although he doesn’t bear the same feelings as you do.” Your heart clenched at his words. “If he really did, I would’ve felt him break. The same way I did the day you were gone! But he didn’t feel anything nor spared your mural a glance, instead his gaze was focused on his father.” He knew you were about to break, seeing your glossy eyes. He’d never forgive the other Miles for being the reason for your tears. “Be with me, baby.” He leaned in.

There was the man of your dreams finally kissing you the way you’ve always been wishing to. Your feelings were finally reciprocated. But no, this isn’t the Miles that you grew loving with all your heart. Just another version of him. Warm tears threaten to fall as you grab the back of his head, tracing the pattern of his beautiful braid and the kiss deepens just a few seconds before you pull away. The boy may have the same features as the one you loved, but you remind yourself that he is not your Miles, a heart wrenching reminder that you have to endure as you stay longing for his feelings for you. Hopelessly wishing that your Miles have felt the same way about you as this Miles does.

Because of your strong connection with Miles Morales, you find yourself getting attached, no matter what versions of him. Your heart couldn’t turn away no matter what… Even at the fact that he committed a series of crimes, and is a threat to the city he was fated to be protecting, if it wasn’t for the spider biting your Miles instead of him.

You wanted to mend his broken heart, put the pieces back together. However, you noticed the pattern and it got you asking, “Why has the universe been cruel to you and him?” Both being the reason for each other’s wounded, bleeding hearts.

The tears finally escaped your eyes, He swore they were shining jewels under the moonlight.

“Miles, because of me you changed…” You weakly said, “can feel nothing but hatred in your heart. You’ve caused fear to the innocents!” You two weren’t aware of the previous twitching of the other Miles, tied up. He regained his consciousness, finding you being pinned down by a guy who looks just like him. Guilt consumed him whole as he felt the pit on his stomach watching the other version of him shower you with love and he was not afraid of expressing them at all.

“Why is loving you not fair?” Your voice quavered, exclaiming the words of your weeping heart. He’s come to realize that you’ve had the heart of gold that allowed you to love him unconditionally. But in return, you suffered. The cost of loving him is to suffer immeasurably that you were willing to pay every second.

He couldn’t stomach the way your voice drips with honey as you say his name, “Miles”, while referring to the other version of him.

Maybe his other self is the answer to his confused feelings. Why the memory of his parents gushing at him, telling him how much they would love you as their daughter-in-law is playing on the back of his head while Introducing Gwen to his parents.

…Why your voice, along with your promise of never leaving him, were playing over Gwen’s voice of pleas before snapping her webs off of him.

You don’t know what you’ve done to his heart when you had fearlessly stood up for him, letting him know that he will never be alone when every other spider went against him.

In every universe, Gwen Stacy falls for spiderman. However…

Why [name]?

Why not Gwen?

Is what he finds himself asking all the time.

He sympathises with the broken version of him who lost his version of you. However, Miles could no longer stand the thought of losing you as well. He no longer wanted to waste the chance to be the man you deserve.

Miles wanted to be worthy of the love that is as pure as yours.

His eyes were focused on you two as he activated his electricity powers. Next thing, you felt what seemed like an explosion. As the other Miles gets knocked out from the sudden impact, your Miles swiftly wraps his arm around your waist as he uses his web to open the window and swings both of you out of the building. You look at him, he didn’t utter a word but he was quietly sobbing and swinging past every building at a fast rate.

You landed on a rooftop. You turned to Miles, who was still quiet. “Miles?” You called out to him. He returned your gaze with an equal pained look in his eyes. You were surprised when he suddenly grabbed you and wrapped his arms around you so tightly like you’d disappear.

Your eyes widened as he trembled, “I’m so sorry, [Name]. I truly am. I took you for granted... I’m in love with you, always have.” Your heartbeat quickens while hearing his words, “I’m sorry that I’ve hurt you because I didn’t know any better. For Invalidating my feelings because I was confused.” He took your hand, wrapping it with his own, “You were my first love, and everyday I’ll prove that you’re the only one.” You stared at his eyes, finding nothing but sincerity and the fear of losing you. “Let me love you, baby. Please, love me again.” He trailed off, pressing your foreheads together. You brought your arms up to wrap them around his neck as you brought your bodies, pressing tightly against each other’s.

There you are, there you are… always there with open arms. Your pure love is what constantly reminds him why he fell for you.

“I never stopped loving you, Miles.” Both of your hands cupped his cheeks. He leaned in, pressing your lips together. He inserted his tongue inside, deepening the passionate kiss you two shared. He was afraid to let go.

In every universe, Gwen Stacy falls for Spiderman. But the universe planned [Name] [Last name] to captivate the heart of Miles Morales.

#miles morales x reader #miles morales #across the spiderverse #spiderman x reader #1610 miles morales #42 miles morales #spiderman

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jakekiszkasleftnutsack · 1 year

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Insomnia

Josh Kiszka x f!reader

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Summary: It’s challenging to maintain the status quo when on tour with your best friend and his rowdy band of brothers, and shacking up has brought about its fair share of speed bumps.

Warnings: 18+ GRAPHIC SEXUAL CONTENT, swearing, Sammy slander, bottom!josh, unprotected sex, somnophilia if you squint, fingering, teasing, desperation, a little fluff on top

W/c: 4.2k

A/n: This one shot is brought to you by this little request from a thousand years ago sorry, anon come get yo juice. Love you all so much, thank you for your support and keep those requests coming!

Edited by the ever fabulous @gretasamfeettt

Theme Song: Sleep Walk - Deftones

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Knock, knock

You rap your knuckles quick and quiet against the unnaturally thick hotel room door.

“Josh!” You whisper in the harsh fashion of a scream. “Josh, it’s me, let me in!”

Normally you wouldn’t be bothering him this way since he’s very insistent on getting enough rest before show days, but in your current situation, you’re not exactly left with an array of options.

You’re standing barefoot in the hotel hallway clutching your bag to your pajama-clad chest. Strands of damp, stringy hair stick to your cheeks. Small beads of water drip onto your oversized t-shirt and the plush carpet below.

Knock, knock, knock

He’d only resigned to his room a little under an hour before you, you can’t imagine he’s already asleep.

“Josh, please wake up!” A bit more urgently this time.

When the door finally cracks open and your half-naked, groggy looking best friend blinks at you with the most disdainful expression you’ve ever seen, guilt instantly washes over you.

“I’m so so sorry, I know you said you wanted to turn in early but I didn’t know what else to do I just panicked! Sam came back, he just…” The word vomit rockets out of you a pitch or two higher than your normal speaking voice.

He listens wordlessly with narrowed eyes, from either contempt or the bright hallway lights, you’re not sure which. As he takes in the sight of you, disheveled and frantic, his expression shifts to a sort of concerned fear.

“Woah woah, y/n what the fuck? Are you okay?” He interrupts you mid-sentence, something he only does to you when trying to prompt you to arrive at your point.

Forcing yourself to take a deep breath for his sake and that of the situation that's found you still standing outside Josh’s door with no shoes, your next sentence is quite a bit calmer.

“I’m fine… Can I please stay in here tonight?”

“Are you kidding?” He opens the door wider so he can slip into the hall to wrap an arm around your shoulders and usher you into the room. “Tell me what happened.”

The room is shrouded in darkness as he helps you find the edge of the bed, and once you’re sat where he deems you safe he flicks on one of the bedside lamps attached to the wall nearby. He situates himself at your side, cross legged and facing you so he can take your hand in his. Eyes wide but oh so soft, his expression coaxes you into a state of comfort while also preparing for the worst.

“Y/n, please tell me what the fuck is going on so I can decide whether I need to knock my baby brother’s teeth in.”

“Calm down, it’s not like that.” You huff an exasperated giggle, because of course he would find a way to make you laugh. Even though you know he’s only half joking. “I told you I’m fine, he’s just a menace.”

“What else is new?” He snorts flatly, followed by what you think he might have intended to be a subtle eye roll. Ignoring him, you toss aside an eye roll and proceed.

“After you left we had another round, but then Jake and Danny wanted to keep going and Sam was talking to some girls, and I was tired so I just went back to my room.” Josh nods along, listening to every word carefully with knitted brows. “When I got back I wanted to shower, I was in there for like.. 10 minutes, until Sam was banging on my door. He had his arm around one of those girls from the bar and was begging me to switch rooms so he could ‘do the dirty’” you made exaggerated quotes in the air with your fingers, “his words not mine.”

He raises his eyebrows at you in delighted confusion. “And why didn’t you tell him to fuck off?”

“He said he lost his room key.. I just let them in so they weren’t standing in the hall while I put my clothes on, I left them alone for two seconds and they were already making out on the bed!” You’re talking with your hands so animatedly that he watches them fly about with a smirk, it’s a habit of his own that you subconsciously picked up after spending years around him.

“Okay, okay, but I still don’t get how you wound up at my door.” He bites his lip to stifle his laughter. The weight of the situation isn’t lost on him, but he’s always finding ways to rile you up and poke a bit of fun, you being so organically frazzled probably has him beyond tickled now that he realizes you were never hurt or in danger.

“I wasn’t about to stick around and watch, Joshua.” He loses his composure at the shrill of your berating tone when you punctuate his name, but you can’t help but chuckle right along. Though you feel foolish, you can’t ignore just how outrageous the whole ordeal probably sounds to him.

“Can’t say I blame you there.” He wipes a tear from the corner of his eye. “Remind me to tease dear Samuel in the morning, I’m not letting either one of you live this down.”

You jut out your lower lip in a puppy dog pout instead of answering. Though you know he’s trying to make light of Sam and his tomfoolery, the embarrassment that should be all his sits here on your cheeks. Sam would be getting the brunt of the jokes as soon as he’s not underneath his special friend, but still.

“Y/n, you are the worst negotiator I’ve ever met…” He trails off and shakes his head while searching your pouting features. The corner of his mouth quirks up but he otherwise looks on, it seems like he’s lost in thought, or maybe reading some fine print that’s shown up on your face. It’s safe to assume he’s just trying to hold back all the jokes swimming around in his little Joshua brain that are too harsh to say out loud.

Josh isn’t known for his self-restraint when it comes to keeping his thoughts to himself, but he’s always been a little more considerate of you and your feelings than he is with his brothers. For that, you’re grateful.

His phone rumbles against the bedside table disturbing his train of thought, you can see from the lit-up screen that he has a text from Danny. When he leans over to retrieve it you take the opportunity to find reprieve in the bathroom.

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You puff your cheeks and sigh at your reflection as you stand in front of the mirror. There’s makeup still smudged under your eyes from your shower, your hair has halfway dried in the air making the top frizzy from not being properly treated. The shoulders of your oversized band shirt soaked from where your damp hair sat atop them.

What a fucking headache, you think, as you promise yourself you’ll beat Sam’s skinny ass into next week.

You contemplate whether you could take him in a fight while you turn on the faucet to splash some cold water on your face. Blindly grasping, you reach for the closest towel and use it to wipe the sludge from under your eyes. Slowly, you’re starting to look less unhinged. You flip your hair over and use the towel to dry the ends as much as you can manage, there was no time to blow dry or run any product through it when your nighttime routine had been so rudely interrupted.

Opting not to sleep in wet clothes, you strip off your top and discard it on the floor since you have neither the care nor the energy to fold it neatly. You snatch up a white t-shirt of Josh's that had met the same fate as yours earlier in the night. It fits you mostly fine, apart from your tits filling out the chest. The fabric lies taut against them, and the color of your nipples slightly shows through when you check yourself out in the mirror. Paired with your barely there checkered shorts that allow your ass to peek out the back, you’re barely dressed.

Fuck it, it is what it is. You regard yourself before stepping back out into the room.

Still palming your hair through what was obviously meant to be Josh’s bath towel, you glance around taking in the room for the first time. The white light cast from the lamp barely reaches halfway across the room, but it’s enough to reveal his suitcase open and slightly picked through at the edge of the bed near where you had dropped your bag carelessly on the floor. The once pristine hotel sheets are drawn back and crumpled, confirming your suspicions that he was already tucked in when you arrived, maybe lightly snoozing with heavy eyelids. An image of the scene playing through your mind pangs that sliver of guilt again that you’re probably inconveniencing him. He would never admit something like that, even if it were true.

Josh is still cross legged on the bed and immersed in his phone, but something else piques your interest, replacing your previous thought almost entirely. Though Josh’s bed is slept-in, the identical one beside it is entirely undisturbed. Jake still hasn’t returned.

“What do the boys have to say?” You inquire about the text he seems very invested in typing out.

“Hmm?” He hums in response before looking up to where you stand in front of him. Almost as soon as he looks up from the screen, his eyes nearly fall out of his head when he makes direct eye contact with your chest.

He clears his throat. “I see you changed”

“Yeah, my shirt was pretty wet.” You bite your lip when his eyes linger a bit too long.

Josh has only looked at you like this a handful of times, in the way he knows he shouldn’t, in the way that friends just don’t look at their friends. Even though he’s only ever dared to look when he thought you were too distracted to notice, you’ve noticed his eyes on you when they should be elsewhere. But this? There’s no escape from this stare down for either of you, and it’s forcing you to look down the barrel of a gun that’s been pointed at you for years.

“Would you like to borrow my shirt?”

You could pretend not to notice, possibly ignore the situation entirely just as you’ve already done once or twice.

But where’s the fun in that?

“Yes Joshy, may I pweeeeeease borrow your shirt?” Hopping onto the bed next to him to sit on your knees, a little too exaggerated so your tits bounce more than necessary, you flash your sweetest smile.

He swallows hard, unable to stop his eyes from losing their focus on your face, but recovers fast. “Of course you can, thank you for asking me first.”

“You’re more than welcome, dickhead.” You snap back in your best sticky sweet yet sarcastic voice and purse your lips teasingly for good measure.

You’d be lying if you said you had never thought about Josh that way, the idea of him being so desperate to be near you is more than enough to ignite your mischievous side. Without directly asking him there’s no way to be completely sure of your hunch, but you know he’d forgive you if you were wrong.

Bringing the topic back around to your earlier question that he had curved, or maybe forgotten about entirely, you gesture to Jake's empty bed. “Where are the guys? That was Danny, right?”

“Oh yeah, yeah, um-“ He looks away, jostling his curls in the process, and hits the lock button on his phone before setting it facing down on the bedside table. “He just said not to wait up, Jake jumped on stage with the cover band at the bar so they might be out for a while still.”

“Hmm figures, okay. We should get some rest, you guys have a big day tomorrow.” You can’t help but roll your eyes at the thought of Jake’s ego. Deciding not to take up any more of Josh's night, you move to make your way over to Jake’s empty bed, but he places a hand on your arm to stop you.

“Ya know, we should- maybe we should leave Jake’s bed open for him, just in case…” You stare back at him blinking, processing his words and apprehensive expression. The timid nature he’s using to reach out to you is so unlike Josh, always the confident one. He almost seems embarrassed to be asking. “...If he stumbles back in here drunk I’d rather have you a safe distance from the fallout.”

You crack a smile. “Okay Josh, for safety.” Your eyes briefly lock before returning to where you previously were sitting.

You clamber up to the head of Josh’s bed and situate yourself under the white sheets as he slides in next to you. The two of you had slept in the same bed plenty of times, so there’s nothing out of the ordinary about it. A platonic sort of intimacy has always existed between you, Josh is very passionate, but you’re in uncharted territory now.

Somehow, in some way, Josh wants you and there’s no telling where this new development is going to lead.

He flicks off the light, leaving you in pitch darkness when he settles fully into bed. It’s a modestly sized queen, in true hotel fashion so it seems almost accidental when you adjust your position to nudge your backside into him. Your bodies are so ridiculously close without actually touching that you might be sharing a pillow by default. You throw a careless glance over your shoulder to find Josh's hand has been evicted from its resting place and is now hovering somewhere over your waist by default, rigid and unsure of where it belongs.

“Are you comfortable?” He asks in a jokingly mocking voice.

“Almost. You can touch me if you want to.” Like a scared animal he relaxes into you, his hand settles just above your hip and brushes over a small section of skin your shirt doesn’t quite cover.

Despite your fight to keep your eyelids from closing, the comforting scent and warmth of the bed welcome you into a dreamless sleep.

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A muffled sound brings you to a hazy state of consciousness. It takes you a moment to come to, but it’s accelerated by a nearly imperceptible rocking motion whose origin you can’t quite discern. The sound repeats, coming from Josh who is stirring behind your back.

“Um, y/n?” His voice is shaking.

“Hmm? Everything okay?” Your tone is sweet and melodic, ignorant of the position he’s put you in. Closing the gap between your bodies, you adjust the smallest bit to investigate and firmly socket your backside against him in the process. At the same time, a carnal groan escapes him. Being that you’re still half asleep, the sound throws you off, almost frightening you.

What’s wrong? Is Josh hurt?

It’s then that he freezes, going stiff as a board when he realizes his mistake, and you realize that Josh has an iron grip on your hip and a fully erect cock nestled between your legs.

“Oh, god.. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have woken you.. I-I don't know what I was thinking. I’m sorry doll, please go back to sleep.” That panicked voice is back, so sad and filled with shame, you hate hearing it. You hate it so much that you want him to lock it in a box and throw it into the sea.

He shouldn’t be this scared of me.

“No, no it’s okay, keep going.” You place your hand over his before he can pull it away and guide it across your skin, helping him map the various dips and textures. Underneath the light fabric of your top, his soft hand eventually wanders on its own to find the swell of your breast.

He squeezes carefully at first, testing the waters with increasing intensity, and haphazardly circles his thumb over your nipple, sending shivers and goosebumps all over you as your nerves come alive. You whimper, causing him to freeze yet again.

“Are you sure about this?”

So apprehensive, so worried that he’s offended you, but you know the greedy truth lurking right behind the wall he’s put up to keep you safe.

“Aren’t you?” Maintaining your position, you slide your tiny shorts down your legs, and barely seconds later he resumes pleasuring himself against you. He moves his free hand from pinching your sensitive nipples down your stomach and into your panties to experiment with the slick that’s grown there.

“That’s right, good boy.” You rotate your own hips in tandem with his movements so his fingers catch on your clit with each circular motion.

“Jesus.. fuck. I want you, mama.”

Something about the way he said it, could have been the pleading desperation in his voice, the hungry bucking of his hips against your ass, or even the way his panting breaths have been radiating over you, but something tells you that what he really meant to say was ‘I fucking need you more than I need air to breathe, and I need you now’.

“Fucking A, Joshua.” You sit up and throw the thin blanket to the side, allowing you to rise to your knees and push him onto his back. There’s no version of this encounter where you’d let him shy away from the reality of it. Everything is out in the open between you, similar to his beautiful exposed cock that’s only visible because your eyes have adjusted to the darkness. You’ve seen it before circumstantially, but years ago when you were both very young. It’s smoother, and much prettier now that he’s done some growing.

Situating yourself over him, you let his member fall flat against his abdomen. You lower your sopping pussy to grind against it, letting it slot itself between your folds through the delicate lace and Josh’s noises of protest.

“Come on, Mama.”

When you divert your gaze to him rather than his cock, ready to scold him for whining, you’re face to face with each other for the first time since falling asleep in his arms. It’s perplexing seeing something so familiar through a different lens, and it’s written all over your faces like a small child seeing Christmas lights for the first time, alert and full of curiosity.

Just above those baby cow eyes, small beads of sweat appear on his brow and his moans have become decidedly more agitated, proving to you that he’s earned his reward. You pull your soaked panties to the side for him but remain hovering just out of reach. “Alright. If you want it so bad, take it.”

He double takes between your face to your cunt like he’s expecting you to cover yourself and say you’re just kidding with him, but when you don’t he accepts your words like a challenge.

Taking himself in his hand, he lines up with your core, only the very tip reaches far enough to dip slightly past the entrance. After so much anticipation he slides in with ease, just a slight lift and he’s falling apart underneath you. He stabilizes himself by holding onto your hips while he brings his own up to meet them. Your moans begin to match his with each powerful thrust straight to your center, and before long he’s struggling to maintain his composure. The pace dissipates, half thrusts start nudging your g-spot as the head slides back and forth stretching your walls.

“I can’t- I’m gonna cum.” He throws his head back on the pillow with his confession, and you can feel him start to tense as you tighten around him.

In one final act of mercy, you take over and ride him for a few pumps until your pulsating walls are milking hot ropes of cum from his cock. Even as he doubles over and pulls himself from you, one last shot lands on your own dripping sex. Immediately he reaches for your shirt, pulls it over your head, and uses it to clean up his mess from everywhere it may have landed.

“I didn’t need the shirt anyway.” You joke as he balls it up and tosses it somewhere on the floor to be thrown in the trash in the morning. He rolls his eyes and pulls you onto his chest while reaching for the blanket to cover your naked bodies.

“You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that.” He sighs and pulls you down to perfectly settle against his skin.

“Well.. I have a pretty good idea.”

۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵

The sun shone through a slit that the curtains failed to cover directly onto your eyes, slowly bringing you out of a heavy but peaceful slumber. Josh is tucked neatly against your back, arm draped over your waist and one leg tangled between yours. A smile creeps its way onto your face at the position, he always was the cutest sleeper.

As carefully as you can, you lift the sheet and attempt to shimmy your way out of his grasp. He stirs anyway, and you immediately settle back into his touch, turning to face him as his eyes flutter open.

“Good morning, sweet girl.” He mumbles almost incoherently, closing his eyes again in favor of the darkness.

“Good morning, baby. Last night was not very ‘just friends’ of us, was it?” You tease through your smile.

“What ever do you mean? I always fuck the homies goodnight.” He mumbles again sleepily, but his playful inflection matches yours.

You giggle and place a peck gently on his lips, leading him to pull you tighter against him, humming in a pleased sort of way. You think he might’ve been waiting for physical reassurance from you that everything is fine, that he could touch you the way he wanted because he kisses you again.

When you both pull away, he smiles and stretches one arm out with a yawn. “What time is it?”

You shrug and turn towards the nightstand, reaching out for his phone since yours didn’t make the narrow escape from your hotel room. A double tap on the screen reveals the time to be an hour before his alarm is set to go off.

“Time for a quickie?” He’s lining up sweet slow kisses across your shoulders and back, and you hum agreeing to his proposition.

You let your eyes linger on the screen and bite back a chuckle when you notice his phone background. He must’ve recently changed it from what was a landscape portrait he took during the last tour to a snapshot you recognize as one taken by Jake outside a bar just the other day when the five of you got drunk in a city you’d never been to before. Sam was in the background yelling at something out of the frame while Danny rolled a joint on the curb, Josh sat next to him and you were lying down on the concrete sidewalk with your head in Josh’s lap. You smiled up at the camera, but Josh smiled down at you. His smile seems to hold new meaning now and that thought quickens your heartbeat faster than you can push it away.

A new text comes through his phone, obscuring the memory. It’s from Danny.

‘How’d it go?’

۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵

thank you for reading

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joytraveler · 1 year

Text

66. Planet of Pisces II

Syrupentine: I know you're drawing out the tension but come on, it's staring us right in the face! Llord_Kuruku: planet of pisces 2, part 2, the clone wars Klickitat_Street: I hope this isn't where the games start to repeat, that last one kind of sucked

"Mmp, caffeine." Bea just finishes the last of her coffee. "Time for Bea's coffee reviews. This is dark roast. It's very bitter, just like me. Well that's the show, thanks for coming by everyone"

HNV: Oh good, Bea's doing impressions of obsure Phoenix Wright characters

"Wait I am? Who are you.. oh, uh YEAH yeah, good reference huh? Anywho.." With her nerves steadied, its time to move on. "POP2, 2! It's two pops, it's twice as many dads, you have to save BOTH your dads this time and they're in opposite corners of the universe! It's very inconvenient."

The new Planet of Pisces 2 starts with a familiar-looking house appearing on the title screen, pink and blue in the rising sun! This title screen is much more dramatic than the other one, with the title and the Roman numeral 2 fading in slowly as the sun rises, tranquil music playing.

HNV: Hey that's the house they built at the end of POP1! Syrupentine: Hey that's the house from Last Of Them All! ... HNV: Jinx? Partly? TaichouSenseiKun: Holy shit I think its both Baconnaise: We have continuity. except not really cause things aren't all ruined yet wait which comes before the other Syrupentine: Now I have a weird tummy feeling because I didn't realize Last Of Them All didn't take place on Earth

When the game begins, a new screen appears but with familiar sprites: it's the kids from Last Of Them All, but this is a character-naming screen!

"Oh we're naming him Glem this time, I'll show you who's dead, game!" The default name on the screen is GUREMU, but Glem fits in even easier

berd_snurglar: damn bea show some respe- oh

A star appears when she types in the name, looks like Glem approves!

HNV: What were the other kids' names? There was Zark and Morg and the baby was something Glockroach: Narp, Grunk, and Splongus. Splongus was always my favorite aroseahorseboy: someday we will learn why joyce named all her babies after stomach noises

When Bea has named all the kids, the game begins proper, irising in on the house... and it was indeed the house from Last Of Them All. The second floor layout is the same, the family is the same! The only difference is that this time, instead of 'Zoku', she's playing Glem.

TaichouSenseiKun: Glem inherits the burning fighting spirit and hair of his mother

First things first, Bea tries talking to the other family members in turn! Glem's little brother Renk is playing with a truck downstairs. "Is there gonna be a special breakfast or are we gonna eat at the carnival?"

berd_snurglar: something smells Renk am i right folks, hah thank you

The twin brothers, Zork and Marg, come tumbling down the stairs wrestling with each other, just like the last time they were seen. "Glem! Go get mom and dad!" "Yeah, Glem! Go get dad and mom!"

"This is before we go to the carnival and get sent back in time! Gotta go get the folks again... HEY MA GET UP, it's Glem. Not dead anymore, feeling pretty good today actually!"

Mom and Dad are asleep in their room, and all Dad will say, just like last time is "mmm... ask your mom."

But Joyce wakes up and says. "That's right, it's your big day! We're going to enter your invention in the contest at the fair! Are you excited?"

Whether Bea chooses YES or NO, Joyce's answer is the same. "You should be very proud of yourself even if you don't win! But i'm sure you will, yours is the best I've ever seen, especially from a boy your age!"

"Ohh, the discus! Yes, mother, you have NO idea, do you.." No more questions asked, she's off to the fair.

"An invention convention in *this* universe should be allll kinds of crazy, maybe I can buy a time machine and it turns out I'm the caveman from the other game"

Before Glem gets back downstairs, the tiny little girl, Rikel, meets him at the head of the stairs and gives him a big hug! "I hope you win, Glem!"

Bea does a deeper, heroic voice. "I won't let my family down! We're gonna win this thing! And go on to invent a whole planet!"

Syrupentine: I'm jealous of Joyce. I want a son like Glem. :_: aroseahorseboy: god damn it mom i try my best *sob, run away*

Back on the bottom floor, Joyce is already down there making breakfast for the family, who are sitting at the kitchen table. When Bea talks to her, she says, "Almost ready. Get the paper before your father comes down, OK?"

Baconnaise: This IS a sequel, right. HNV: What's weird is that we played the original, then a spinoff of the original, and now we're playing the sequel, but we already played... a spinoff... of the sequel? Wait, I confused myself.

Out the front door is a perfectly lovely-looking front walk and lawn. Bea walks Glem down the front walk toward the newspaper. "Got the Newspaper!" says the message box.

But the game doesn't resume from there-- instead it slowly, seemingly pixel by pixel, begins to scroll to the right, the message box itself scrolling off the screen.

Glockroach: Its the devil guy from Smash Trophy the one who moves the screen, dont question me TaichouSenseiKun: BEA RUN THE SCREEN WILL GET YOU DueyDecimal: You mean the Devil from Devil World, featuring Tamagon, the character whose trophy was excised from Melee in the United States? aroseahorseboy: yes duey him

When Glem himself is almost scrolled off the screen, we see the next house over, which has a white van parked in front of it.

Almost as slowly as the scrolling, something begins to emerge from the window not facing the camera.

aroseahorseboy ...is that a fucking rifle

"Oh here's somebody's crime van, definitely. What kind of neighborhood is GLEM NO!!" She shouts, unable to help herself!

The gun fires; the same loud 'bang' they heard in Last Of Them All is heard. The screen scrolls back to Glem, who is still holding up the newspaper.

Glem turns around, and takes two steps back to the house, before falling over.

"FFFFWHAT KIND OF BULLSHIT?!" Is all she can get out amid a bout of upset sputtering.

aroseahorseboy: who the fuck made this HNV: What happened to his head?! Glockroach: someone seriously made a game about a little boy getting shot berd_snurglar: bea. glem died and it was your fault

"SHUT UP BERD its not over yet, this is the opening!" She says, hammering on the control pad as if it will help move the scene along faster.

The only animation is Glem's head-- the rust-colored smear that was once his head-- seeming to quiver like crackling static.

Then the door finally opens again. Rikel comes out. She runs out to see what's happened, and then returns to the house.

The screen fades to black, except for the familiar words, that they kept seeing over and over, seemingly by accident.

aroseahorseboy: ahem FUUUUCK THIIIIS GAAAAME Baconnaise: God damn it Bea DueyDecimal: Was this all a cinematic? Could you have dodged that even?

"I didn't know!! all right, Duey's right, we missed something didn't we.."

Llord_Kuruku: maybe you should have played all the games that came before?? Or after???

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sukirichi · 3 years

Text

sweet lies [02]

His lies were way too sweet – and you were too addicted to make him stop.

cw. explicit smut, slight body worship, public sex, dirty talk, praising, toxic megumi, fwb dynamics, slight angst, body marking, sukuna bullying megumi, age gap, scratching, mentions of oral (m receiving) and mutual masturbation, the traditional unedited fic

note. choose your fighter, megumi or sukuna 😈 also UHM do you guys want me to make the ending angsty or fluffy? i wrote out two versions so LOL let me know what you think! we’ll get more of the megumi scenes on the next chapter though~

series masterlist | 01 | 02 | 03

Sukuna isn’t kidding when he said he’ll have you unable to walk by the end of this.

You’ve lost count of how many times you guys have fucked.

Once more in the stalls when you thought of repaying the favor by sucking him off, followed by him growing impatient and hauling you inside his car. Both of you were too tired to go for another round, but were still very much addicted for the other’s touch that mutual masturbation seems like the best option.

Thankfully, Sukuna’s cut his nails, so having three of his fingers buried knuckle deep in you feels like absolute heaven. He’s not complaining about your smooth hands wrapped around his shaft either, especially not when you’ve had enough practice with Megumi to know just how to make a guy lose his mind. By the time you’ve made it back home, Sukuna’s grown hard again, too impatient to make it to the bed before he just fucks you raw against the wall. You’re trembling at his hold, left with no choice but to trust his strength to drop you on his cock and bounce you to his pleasure.

It’s a miracle you’ve made it on the bed.

His digital clock reads a quarter at three in the morning, and for a moment, you worry about how tired you’ll be in class tomorrow when Sukuna’s large hands grips your thighs sharply.

“Goddamn,” he hisses through clenched teeth, chuckling at the irresistible sight of your breasts bouncing before him. Limbs tangled, minds controlled with the primal need to fuck, and moans shared with his deep grunts – you somehow end up on top of him, your thighs feeling like they’re on the verge of giving up as you continue to ride his thick length.

“You are so fucking sexy,” he slaps your ass and causes your hips to rut deeper, forcing that delicious curve of his cock to meld with your walls. You throw your head back, palms planted on his chest, focused only on that burning pleasure between your thighs. “I could fuck you all night long.”

Even though you truly have no wish to, you shake your head, fingers balling into a fist. “I have class tomorrow, need to wake up early,” you protest, the words falling into deaf ears as Sukuna thrusts up into you. He must’ve noticed how you’re growing tired and took matters into his own hands, feet grounded on the mattress to pound deliriously into you. You’re debating whether to be thankful or frustrated he still has so much energy even after hours of fucking, but it honestly doesn’t matter. You’re falling into his chest, arms slipping on your equally sweat-covered bodies. Right now, you just wanted to cum – once more, again, one last time! “Ah, Sukuna, t-too much!”

“Too much?” he laughs and tangles his hand to caress your scalp, the gesture too soothing that you almost forgot he’s fucking you into oblivion. “Want me to go slow?”

“No…”

“Thought so, sweetheart,” his grin is absolutely cocky as he bends his knees in a fold, pushing you until your back rests on his muscular thighs. Your mouth falls open at his hands wrapping around your threat, keeping you right there, hips flat and grinding on his cock. “Come on. Come for me,” Sukuna urges, tightening his hold around your neck a little harder.

That’s all you need for your vision to blur and see stars, your body’s shaking uncontrollable. He’s thrusting with all his power and energy that it feels like you’re nothing but a hole on top of him, tongue falling open in a wanton manner as your drool trails down your chin.

You look filthy, you feel filthy, and yet, Sukuna sees it entirely different.

“So – fucking – gorgeous, fuck. I woulda fucked you sooner if I didn’t feel weird about it.”

“What?”

“Aw, come on, sweetheart,” he smirks at your half fucked out state. Sukuna rolls his hips in such a mind numbing manner that you end up staring at the ceiling, trying your hardest to decipher the colors of his room to get a grip of yourself. But he feels so hot, cock throbbing and pulsing inside you, your puffy lips encasing him with a translucent ring of cum and it feels so fucking good you don’t really understand what he’s saying anymore. “Did you really think I never saw you in my dreams?” he slaps your ass again, the reflexive response of tightening around him pulling a deep groan from the beautiful man beneath you. “I have such a sexy roommate, I couldn’t help it.”

“Then why didn’t you – ah, right there, shit – tell me?”

“Cuz,” he snickers and finally lets you breathe, your pupils blowing wide from the sudden flow of air. Sukuna kneads your breasts greedily, never stopping his mind-numbing rhythm of ramming deep into you. Your body burns, your thighs ache, your pussy feels sensitive but you can’t find the energy to stop him. Instead, you fall prey, failing in your mission to keep him wrapped around your fingers because now you’re wrapped around his cock, and you were quite fucking addicted to it. “You’re my friend’s student. Felt so fucking wrong.”

“What’s the difference now?”

“The difference is,” Sukuna’s face contorts into something of discomfort for a moment before he leans forward, his sturdy grip homing in on your hips again. You feel his searing breath on your ear, so parching it puts the warmth of your pussy to shame. “Having you like this has never felt so right, and I’ll keep fucking you if you let me.”

“I-I’d let you,” you concede absentmindedly and capture his lips for a sloppy kiss, tongues giving up on a battle of dominance. You’re always so clingy when you’re about to come, something Megumi never fails to chastise you for, and you fear Sukuna might push you away as you wrap an arm around him, nails painfully scratching down his back. Red marks leave a trail on its wake until his blood pierces through the sheets, the pain manifested through the increasing roughness of his pace. Now it’s your turn to whimper in his ear, pulling the man close and tugging harshly at the ends of his hair. Gosh, were you actually crying? “Sukuna, I’m close! Yes, yes, right there!”

Sukuna groans at the erotic sounds you reward him with. “Come for me, that’s right, ohhhh,” he stills inside you, his seed spilling deep inside you. You wince at the burst of warmth spreading all over your belly and Sukuna chuckles at your bulging belly. He presses down on it to coax his cum to trickle all over his cock, and he’s fucking filthy – you learn easily – to watch you make a mess on his cock with a childish smile on his face.

You push yourself off him and fall to his side, him following suit not long afterwards. The room feels completely stuffed from your intense fucking, the bruises on your body and scratches on his back a huge attestment to that.

Your legs remain wide open as you clench around nothing, his cum oozing out like a waterfall. Sukuna (that damned pervert) dips two fingers into your hole for one last moment just to drench his fingers in it, his eyes lit up in wonder while he lets it web around his fingers. You snicker at his actions and roll to his side, eyes fluttering close from the wave of exhaustion that comes into full force.

The lingerie set you intended to wear for Megumi was now ripped at the other side of the room, discarded, forgotten – merely evidence of a moment that had never been given to him.

Oddly enough, you don’t feel bad, not even when Sukuna faces you, his cheeks squished by his soft pillows. “I’m spent. I don’t think I’ve ever been this tired. My gym sessions can’t compare to this.”

“You go to the gym?”

“Yeah. I wasn’t born this gorgeous, you know. I had to work hard for this,” Sukuna gestures to his body. You can’t help but follow the gestures and admire the hard planes of his muscle ripped above one another, the smatter of dark hair leading down his hips adding to his already immense sexual charisma. It makes you want to jump on him all over again, and you have to bite your lip to resist that urge, rolling your eyes at him in favor of letting him know you could totally go for another round.

“Dork.”

“Got me laid though, was worth the effort,” he jokes, and you both laugh.

It’s actually…weird, to laugh so casually with someone like this. It might be normal for Sukuna in his past sexual endeavors, but it’s totally a different thing for you. You and Megumi had never even bothered with aftercare. As long as he’s satisfied himself, he’d clean himself off in the bathroom and wear his sweatpants, winking at you before he leaves you alone all over again. The memory – albeit not really a regrettable one – is still painful each time you’re reminded you’ll keep coming back to him.

But are things different now? Could you go back to Megumi? You only ever wanted to fuck Sukuna because you’re sad and horny, but it wouldn’t be fair to him, especially when your roommate has been nothing but nice to you. Besides, him being a little more decent doesn’t immediately equate he’s different than Megumi.

For all you know, you could just be another cheap fuck. Sukuna is older and sexier, after all, he’s clearly had a lot more experience than you do.

As if reading your mind, Sukuna rests his head on his palms, elbows flat on the bed as he turns to you. The expression on his face is unreadable, but there’s some sort of softness behind it – a softness you’re not really familiar with.

“Hey. I don’t exactly know what you’re going through, not everything, anyway, but whatever we have right now, I want you to know it’s not because I see just as a pretty pussy, okay?” he says with a straight face, but you really shouldn’t have gotten your hopes up because Sukuna smirks, mischievous eyes darting back and forth to your soaked pussy and bare breasts. “Although you do have a pretty pussy. Can I eat you out again?”

With that, you snatch the pillow underneath him and whack it straight at his face. Sukuna laughs at your protests, the sound growing louder and a lot more mocking the harder you hit him. “Gosh, Sukuna, shut up!”

You end up hitting him way too many times in the face that he can’t get his words through, and before you could react, Sukuna’s ripped the pillow away from you. He cages you in his arms and hovers over you once more, his boneless dick grazing the insides of your thigh. It’s not meant to be sexual, and nothing about his stance gives off anything that shows he wants to do it again, but you can’t help but feel aroused, shifting your legs up and down the bed as you squirm.

“Seriously though,” he repeats, “We can be casual, or this could be a one time thing. Card’s all yours to play. If you want to forget everything tomorrow, I’d gladly do it. Let’s just go back to the way we were-”

“Sukuna.”

“Yes?”

“Did you really think I was only using you to distract myself?”

Sukuna’s lips flatten into a line. “I’m not stupid,” he says somberly, “I could tell you were still thinking about him. Not that I mind, though, you can’t stop yourself from loving someone,” Faintly, you’re distracted by his thumbs rubbing at your pulse point. It’s so lulling you want to fall asleep, but Sukuna isn’t done talking. “My point is…you don’t have to worry about being weird with me. We could just be friends with benefits, if you want, and not the kind you have with your boy toy either. ”

His blatantly catches you off guard and your eyes widen before they narrow at him, trying your best to hide your embarrassment. If Megumi was painfully honest, Sukuna’s ridiculously blunt that his mere words make your heart do weird things you’d rather not feel.

Careful, you remind yourself, Megumi is the one you want. You have to keep reminding yourself that before your feelings get the best of you. It’s Megumi, it’s always been Megumi and it always will be Megumi. Sukuna is just your roommate who’s nice enough to take your mind off things. You only wish you weren’t lying too much in case he gets the wrong idea you’re leading him on, but then again, isn’t that what you’re doing?

Friends with benefits or not – you still have no plans on getting involved with this guy any longer.

It’s always Megumi. You just really needed a quick fuck, someone whose dick didn’t belong with the guy you’re so hung up on over. The change feels nice and you definitely feel a lot better than the last time you met Megumi, but this guilt…it tastes bitter on your tongue, too heavy to swallow and ignore. It’s always Megumi, you tell yourself again in an attempt to relieve your pain.

Though it doesn’t subside and you huff in exasperation, turning away from Sukuna. You can’t stand looking at him right now.

“I’m not,” you mumble weakly, but the tears – the guilt, the heartbreak of not being Megumi’s lover, the regret and the ironic need to be closer to Sukuna feels all so confusing – all threaten to burst through. You don’t want him to see you cry, that would be lame, so you scoot closer to him and kiss his shoulder as you shyly ask, “C-can we cuddle?”

“Of course,” he chuckles, pulling you closer, “You don’t have to sound too nervous to ask.”

“Sorry, it’s just-”

“He never does that?”

“…Yeah.”

“Well, I’m not him,” Sukuna answers confidently, surprising you when he grabs your ass to press you flush against him. You’re both sweaty and hot to the point it’s uncomfortable, but Sukuna smells so sweet with his lingering cologne that you can’t help yourself from planting your face in his neck, breathing in the little hums he makes. Sukuna kisses the crown of your head – which is a little too sweet than you’d like – while his other hand runs down your back in a slow, sensual manner. Hell, it feels close to body worshipping, and you hate that you silently want more of this. “I’d cuddle you every day if you asked me to.”

“You’re surprisingly sweet,” you voice with a smile. Sukuna’s chest rumbles from the low laughter, and like that, you cling to him like he’s the only sturdy pillar in your life. It’s pathetic, maybe even desperate, but if he doesn’t mind, then why should you?

However, the moment is quickly ruined when the bell rings. “Shit, I forgot he was coming over!”

Sukuna glares at the door and holds you tighter, almost possessively, and refuses to let you go even as you squirm under him. “At three in the morning?”

“Yes, but I don’t want to meet him right now,” you groan helplessly.

Sukuna shoots you a blank look after that, then shoots out of the bed in an instant. You watch as he quickly dresses up in a fresh pair of sweatpants, grabbing a random hoodie from the back of his chair, presumably to hide the scratch marks. You have to hide your smile behind your hand because he looks so drool-worthy with marks littered on his already marked skin, and the fact he lets you mark him is even hotter.

He pauses at the door for a moment, pointing a finger at where you peered up at him curiously. “Stay there. I’ll talk to him and say you went out or whatever. Just make sure to silence your phone in case he calls. Better yet, turn it off.”

Sukuna closes the door behind him, already on the way to the entrance just as you press your ears against the door to eavesdrop. There’s a slight shuffling before the door unlocks, then, “Why the fuck did you lock-” Megumi pauses in his words, and you can perfectly picture his infamous scowl painting his handsome features already. Gosh, you wish you could actually see it, but if Megumi catches you sleeping with someone else, he might totally lose interest in you. That’s not something you could afford to happen.

“Oh. You’re her roommate.” You snigger at his usual what the fuck tone – how Megumi of him.

“Hey, kid, it’s a little too late for a visit, don’t you think?” Sukuna taunts, and it takes everything in you to not burst through the door at that moment. You’re stuck between wanting to laugh and crying, mostly because you would love and hate for Megumi to get riled up. “Do your parents know you’re here? Kids shouldn’t be out this late.”

“I’m not a fucking kid, I’m in uni,” he defends, “Do you know where Y/N is? I need to talk to her.”

Deciding fuck it, you open the door by an inch, just enough to peek. As expected, Megumi is glaring behind Sukuna’s shoulders in search of you. Meanwhile, Sukuna’s completely calm, checking his nails boredly as if Megumi isn’t fuming in front of him. And boy, do you know how much Megumi hates being ignored. “Oh, I think she went out, I don’t know why though. House was empty when I got here.”

“She didn’t tell you where she was going?”

At Megumi’s imposing tone, Sukuna tilts his head to scrutinize Megumi. Now that you’re seeing them together, Sukuna’s twice the size of Megs, their height and shoulder width too different to start comparing. But knowing Megumi, he’s not going to back down from a tattooed guy twice his size, not even as he sarcastically remarks, “Ain’t you her friend? She should be telling you that kind of stuff.”

Truthfully, you expected he would put up more of a fight. The two of them share a heated staring competition before Megumi scoffs, the first one to look away. “Whatever,” he dismisses, “Tell her to pick her damn phone up. I’ve been calling for the past hour.”

“I think I should tell her to get better friends.”

“What was that?”

“I said get home safely,” Sukuna chirps. Even with his back turned to you, you could tell Sukuna’s just further pressing his buttons with a grin that’s not meant to be inviting at all. Just when you think it’s done, however, Sukuna finishes off with, “Kid.”

Megumi rages. His blue eyes flame into something feral, his fists balled at his sides. He’s always had a temper issue and you nearly reveal yourself to stop whatever fight is about to ensue, but Sukuna’s already closing the door, ridding any opportunity for the younger one to retaliate. At the sound of the door closing, Sukuna leans against the door, his smile still plastered on his face as if he knows you’re watching the whole time. He meets your eyes from the slight peep of his door, waving his hands sarcastically.

“Sukuna, you didn’t have to be so mean.”

“Sorry,” he isn’t apologetic at all. “Next time I’ll be nicer to your asshole crushes,” he adds with a slight roll of his eyes and you punch his chest playfully. You don’t stop him from grabbing your wrists to embrace you in a hug that doesn’t seem so platonic – but not so suggestive either. Sukuna rests his chin on top of your hand while he sways you both side to side, his voice muffled in your hair. “I understand why you’re attracted to him though. He’s really handsome.”

“Yeah, he is,” you agree sadly, thinking of how much it’s really all a waste Megumi has to be like that. “Just sucks his personality ruins everything.”

“A pretty face is always deceiving,” Sukuna suddenly pulls away and holds you an arm’s length away. “Hey, want to have early breakfast?”

“I think that would be late dinner,” you frown at him.

“Whatever, food is food,” he responds rather excitedly, and you watch as Sukuna rummages through the fridge. Now that you think about it, having sex so much really took a toll on you, and your stomach grumbles loudly. Sukuna hides his chuckles through the fridge but you hear him anyway, shouting at him that you’re not hungry. “Wasn’t asking, sweetheart. Now go get cleaned and changed, I’ll make something for you.”

If anyone were to tell you that a good fucking is all that’s needed for you to immediately form a new kind of friendship with your roommate, you’d call them weird. Sukuna isn’t necessarily out of reach, you and him just simply didn’t cross paths.

But now, you’re dressed comfortably in his boxers and the oversized shirt you stole from him, eating the slightly burn cheese sandwich he’s made, sharing conversation and laughing with him like you’ve been doing it for such a long time. Your sandwich is actually half forgotten on the plate as you whack your palms on the counter, “That’s how you and Prof Gojo met? I never would’ve expected you guys fought over a girl!”

“He was fucking annoying in high school,” Sukuna grumbles over an angry bite, “He was getting all the girls that when someone confessed to me, the hottest chick, no less, he straight up punched me in the face,” you laugh as you imagine the memory of a younger, already rebellious looking Sukuna getting smacked by the even more intolerable Gojo Satoru. Sukuna is lost in his own memories as well, shaking his head from around the last bites of his bread. It’s clear he hates the burnt crust judging from the way he turns a little green, but he’s bragged about his cooking skills so proudly that he has to save face in front of you. “Ah, such good times,” he muses before wincing at his own words, dropping his bread in disgust. “Damn, I sound old, don’t I?”

“You’re only like, five years older than me, it’s fine,” you giggle, “I like the maturity that comes with older people. You’re a lot easier to be with than guys my age.”

“Please,” Sukuna smirks, “Just say you like fucking older men. I won’t judge.”

If anyone were to tell you that you would be jumping over the counter to strangle your roommate who’s now running like hell, your laughter bursting through the once silent apartment, you would call them a liar. But now, you and Sukuna are panting on the floor, too tired from sprinting all around before calling it quits. Maybe it’s a lie – maybe this connection will never really be that much of a big deal – but as long as this lie and play pretend of friendship lasts, you’ll just enjoy every sweet moment of it.

taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed) (bold can’t be tagged) @uwubby-1 @expectoscamander @your-consulting-fangirl @dora-the-grownup @cosmotoic @charlie-xo @kittaliapenn @sukunas-cult-leader @flowersgirl02 @cloudsinthecosmos @90s-belladonna @averysheart-raleighsdick @generousstudentpsychic-bat @kat-su-ki @issamomma

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader smut #ryoumen sukuna x reader #ryoumen sukuna x reader smut #sukuna smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #sukuna x reader angst #sukuna x reader romance #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader imagines #jjk #jjk x reader #sukuna x reader imagines #ryoumen sukuna imagines #sukuna imagines #sweet lies: part two

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vendettaparker · 3 years

Text

No Time To Die [P.P]

“Was I stupid to love you?

Was I reckless to help?

Was it obvious to everybody else

That I’d fallen for a lie?” - Billie Eilish (No Time To Die)

Summary: After learning the horrifying secrets your family kept from you, you became what they feared the most.

Word Count: 4.8K

Warnings: Swearing, manipulation, fucked up morals, explicit character deaths, so much fucking angst, typos

a/n: hey guys! so, incase you guys couldn’t tell already, i am a huge billie eilish fan. and her song No Time To Die is one of my favorites, so of course it gave me some fic inspiration. this fic can get pretty dark, so i highly advise reading with caution! i hope you enjoy and as always comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

It was strange, to say the least. Watching as your family cowered in fear of you. Oh, how they practically trembled when you rose from the rubble of the Tower, holding Fury’s head your hands like a trophy.

They deserve this, you told yourself over and over again. Like a mantra constantly replaying in your head. They deserve this. They did this to themselves. Little by little, every rational and loving part of you chipped away and got lost in the breeze, leaving behind the hatred and bitterness that was clawing its way out of you.

They deserve this.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

“Damn it!” Sam slammed his cards on the table as you laughed and collected your winnings; fourteen dollars and a ring pop, courtesy of Peter.

“Sorry Sam,” you smiled, “you snooze, you lose.”

“Are you sure mind-reading isn’t another one of your little tricks? It seems like you show us something new each day.” Steve chuckled, restacking the cards as you opened your ring pop and began sucking on it.

You shrugged and popped the sucker out of your mouth, “Wouldn’t you like to know, sunny boy.”

Peter nudged you, “Weather boy, babe, it’s weather boy.”

You nodded, “Oh, right. Weather boy.” You smirked at Steve proudly.

Steve look at Sam curiously while you and Peter fist-bumped.

“I don’t even know,” Sam held his hands up in defense, “and I don’t even wanna know.”

“Let’s play another round,” You suggested, already placing another dollar in the middle of the table.

“I’d love to, kid,” Steve said, “but Fury’s here for the monthly meeting. We’ll play when we get back.”

Sam and Steve stood up to leave, leaving you pouting on the couch. Every month, without fail, since Tony had adopted you, Fury had come by for a team meeting. Everyone always assured you that it was just boring formalities, but something always told you there was more to it than that. The team always acted differently when these meetings were about to happen. Tony, a man who hated any unnecessary work, even had carefully curated notes for these meetings, not that you’d ever seen them.

The real kicker was that you were never allowed to attend. You were always told you’d be bored, or that it was no place for little girls.

It’s so boring, kiddo, Tony would say, I wanna blow my brains out every time I see that one-eyed cretin.

“Okay,” You sighed, snuggling next to Peter, “I guess we’ll just watch a movie until you get back.”

“Actually,” Sam frowned, hating what he had to do, “Peter is needed for this one.”

“What?” You shot up, “That’s not fair! I’ve been on the team way longer than he has!” You cried, causing the lights in the room to short circuit and flicker.

“Shhh, calm down, kid,” Steve hushed, looking up to the lights, “Fury just wants to talk to the kid is all. He already knows you, no need to get upset.”

“But—” You looked helplessly at Peter, “I never get to go.” You said dejectedly, “You never let me go.”

“One day, babe,” Peter said, giving you a kiss on the cheek, “just sit tight, I’ll try to leave early, m’kay?”

You took a deep breath, willing the lights to return to normal, “Okay,” You sighed, “I’ll just be in my room, I guess.”

Peter frowned when he heard the crack in your voice and reached out to hold you, but you’d already slipped past him, down the long hall into your room.

“You know,” Sam said, a statement not a question.

“Yeah,” Peter nodded, “but that doesn’t mean I agree with it.”

“You might after this meeting.”

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

“Nice of you to finally join us, Parker,” Fury said as the boys finally walked in, “from what I hear, you’ve learned the truth about (Y/N).”

Peter nodded, “Yes sir, but I—”

“Save it,” Fury cut him off, “I already know the noble speech your about to give me. I’ve heard it hundreds of times from this one,” he pointed a thumb at Steve before continuing, “just trust that what we’re doing is what’s right. More information will come in time, and you’ll see that, as usual, I was right.”

Peter just stared Fury down with an angry passion, but being the epitome of respect he was, he curbed his tongue as Tony went over the new notes from the past month.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

“Is the meeting done yet, Fri?” You asked as you skimmed through the recommended section of Netflix.

“No, Miss Stark, the meeting has only been going on for five minutes.” The somewhat robotic voice of Tony’s AI answered, “Is it an emergency? Would you like me to request an end to the meeting?”

“No, I just might die of boredom is all,” You sighed, finally settling on watching The Lorax. You waited a moment as the movie began and the theme song of Thneedville rang out from the TV, “I just wish I was included more.” You said, not really particularly to Friday, but like the trusty AI she was, of course, she responded.

“You seem sad,” She noted, “would you like to talk about it? Or perhaps I could book you an appointment with the team therapist?”

You scoffed, “Am I even part of the team? I mean, I go on missions, I train, I do my part. I just—” You sniffled a bit. You’d never really vocalized how it felt to feel so… excluded. It was like there was some twisted joke that everyone was in on but you. “It’s like the second it’s not about saving the world, they don’t need me.”

“They need you, (Y/N).” Friday said softly, her program for empathy beginning to kick in, “you are a very important part of the team.”

“Then how come I never get to go to the meetings?”

That was the one question that never really got answered. Even Friday seemed to brush it off, “You’re special, (Y/N),” She said, “you’re family.”

“Whatever,” You mumbled, realizing that as smart as Friday was, even she couldn’t—or perhaps wouldn’t—provide you with the answer you were looking for.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

“She’s not a weapon!” Peter yelled, “She’s a human being! She’s just a kid!”

“She is the most dangerous person on the planet!” Fury yelled back, slamming his fists on the table, “She wiped a town out when she was six! Six years old, and already the most wanted HYDRA operative in three countries!”

“She didn’t know—” Bucky tried.

“And she will never know,” Fury concluded, “she’s too important to jeopardize not having her on our side, and she's too dangerous to get attached to.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Peter narrowed his eyes at Fury.

“You know damn well what that means, Parker.”

“No, I want to hear you say—”

“It means we have to terminate her if she’s ever on the wrong side of the battlefield,” Tony revealed, his voice laced with devastation. Of course, Fury caught this.

“Don’t tell me you’ve gone soft on the kid,” He scoffed, but Tony just looked away. “Damn it, Stark. That’s why we picked you as her guardian, I vouched that you’d be able to get the job done if it ever came to that.”

“I know,” Tony snapped, “and I will.”

“Mr. Stark!” Peter scolded, “She’s your daughter!”

“She’s a weapon, Pete,” Tony corrected, “a weapon that if we lose possession of, we have to destroy.”

Peter was about to protest, but Steve placed a hand on his shoulder. As Fury continued the meeting, Steve motioned over to Tony’s hand, tucked slightly behind him. Soon, Peter noticed it too; his fingers were crossed.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

“Hey,” Bucky nudged your shoulder as you sat anxiously in the jet, your leg bouncing up and down with nerves, “you okay, kid?”

“Just nervous,” You shrugged, “I haven’t fought—well, not since HYDRA. I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“Don’t worry,” Bucky offered you a small smile, “you’re a good kid. You won’t hurt anyone.”

“Do you remember?” You asked Bucky, gripping onto his jacket as he was about to walk away. “Do you remember hurting people?”

Bucky nodded solemnly.

“I don’t,” You said, “maybe it’s better that way?”

“It is, kid. Trust me.” Bucky said, giving you a pat on the head, “we touch down in three minutes, be ready.”

Fury was the one who wiped your memories. You’d always thought it was the trauma that did it, but no, it was only man.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The meeting ended much later than usual. Sometimes it was an hour, maybe even two. But with all the arguing between Peter and Fury, the meeting was stretched to three. So by the time he finally came up to say goodbye to you before heading back to his apartment, you were already cuddled up in your comforter, fast asleep.

Peter was jittery. He was angry and sad, and so so disappointed all at once. But seeing you curled up under the covers, your arms wrapped around your pillow that they would wrap around Peter’s torso, he was at peace again.

“Hey, baby,” He whispered in your ear, hoping that maybe his words would filter into your dreams, “I gotta go now, but I love you. I’m sorry it took so long.” He placed a soft kiss on your forehead, “Goodnight, gorgeous.”

Peter quietly slipped out of your room. In the hallway, Tony was already waiting for him.

“You won’t really hurt her, will you?” Peter asked hesitantly.

“No,” Tony shook his head, “you’re right, kid; she’s my daughter. I could never hurt her. I promise.”

“I’m holding you to that,” Peter said sternly, in a manner he’d never spoken to Tony in before, “you know how much I look up to you and respect you, Mr. Stark, but I love her. I love her so much. I won’t forgive you if something happens to her.”

“I wouldn’t forgive myself.” Tony agreed, giving Peter a pat on the back, “Now hurry home, May told me to send you on your way.”

Peter nodded before scurrying off.

Tony sighed as he made his way to his room, finally ready for some shut-eye.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

“Peter,” you giggled as Peter pressed kisses all over your face, “stop it, you goof.”

“I can’t help it,” Peter whined, “I missed you so so so much.”

“I was only gone for a few days—”

“On a deadly rescue mission in the Amazon.” Peter interrupted, “I was worried sick the whole time.”

“You always worry,” You pointed out.

“Only when it comes to my pretty girl.”

“Ew,” You scrunched your nose up and cringed, “too cheesy.” Peter playfully shoved you aside before beginning to pout, “but I still love you,” You said in a singsong voice, bringing his face back to you for a kiss. “And I missed you too.”

Before you and Peter could continue your lovefest, Bruce waltzed in to ruin the moment. “Ah, (Y/N), there you are!” He said, clapping his green hands together.

“What do you want?” You deadpanned.

Bruised rolled his eyes, but proceeded, “I left some of my files downstairs in my computer in the basement lab, and I really really need them for my meeting with your dad. That's in… thirty seconds. Could you please run down there, email my files to my phone or to your dad, and then, maybe clear my search history too if you get the chance?”

“Ugh, fine,” You groaned, getting up from the couch, “but if I find anything incriminating on there, I’m sending it to myself for blackmail.” You raced to the elevator before Bruce could protest.

The lab in the basement was like Bruce’s personal little playground, only it wasn’t all that little. It was more like a large parking garage-type place, with machines, monitors, and tables strewn about. Bruce spent so much of his time holed up in the lab that it even had a sleeping cot in the corner along with a mini-fridge.

You went up to Bruce’s main desktop and began searching for the files he needed when something on his desk caught your eye. It was a black flash drive with a tiny neon green post-it note stuck to it, Audio from monthly meeting + notes, put in (Y/N)’s file —Bucky.

A file for you? You held the small flush drive in your hand and reread the note to make sure you were seeing things correctly. You looked around the room to make sure nobody was coming down the hallway, before popping the flash drive into the side of Bruce’s computer. As soon as it was in, you played it.

She’s not a weapon! She’s a human being! She’s just a kid! Peter. Who wasn’t a weapon? You?

She’s the most dangerous person on the planet! Fury’s demanding voice continued as you pulled up your file in Bruce’s computer. Hundreds of audio logs, thousands of notes, and a few new’s articles. The Devil of the United States they called you. Each story detailed atrocities that you didn’t even know you committed.

And then you saw it. The first report on you, written by Tony. The asset is secure at location one. Memory wipe is complete. Papers of possession are complete.

She’s too dangerous to get attached to. Fury spoke, getting collective hums of agreement in return.

She’s a weapon, Pete. A weapon that if we lose possession of, we have to destroy.

“Hey, kid, what’s taking so long with those notes—” Tony froze when he heard the audio playback, She’s a weapon, Pete. A weapon that if we lose possession of, we have to destroy. And again, She’s a weapon, Pete. A weapon that if we lose possession of, we have to destroy. And once more, She’s a weapon, Pete. A weapon that if we lose possession of, we have to destroy.

The shift in the air was so tangible, Tony could feel his breath being restricted. “Kid, it’s not—”

“I’m a weapon?” You spoke, barely above a whisper.

“No, that’s not—”

“I’m an asset.”

“(Y/N)—”

“I’m just another job to you!” You yelled, bursting all the lights in the room out, one by one.

“No, you’re not!” Tony yelled, “You’re my daughter! I love you!”

You finally turned around to face him, hot tears were streaming down your cheeks and your hands were shaking, “No you don’t,” You protested, “you fear me. You all do.”

“We love you, (Y/N). You’re family.”

“You took my past away from me. You said you’ll kill me. Are you gonna kill me?”

“I won’t. I’d never hurt you, (Y/N). I’m sorry, please, kid. Just hear me out—” Tony begged, but he was cut short when you held your hand up and the breath was stolen from his throat.

“You can’t trick me anymore.”

Tony writhed and clawed at his throat, but then it clicked for you. This anger and confusion was warping your mind and manifesting itself into uncheck aggression. You lowered your hand and finally, he could breathe again. You looked at your hands in fear, “I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“It’s gonna be okay, kid,” Tony said, slowly backing away. “We’re gonna be okay.”

Every room had one. Tony said they were only for the worst of the worst emergencies. In truth though, the red button on the wall wasn’t for any outside danger. It was installed when you moved into the tower.

“Dad?” You took a step towards Tony, and in a moment of fear, he hit the button. Red lights began flashing and the entire tower shifted as vibranium shields rose over every window.

“Red Alert. Red Alert. Asset is aware.” The mechanical voice of the alarm system rang out. “Lab 5, sublevel 2.”

You looked at Tony with the most heartbroken expression he had ever seen. “You do fear me, don’t you?”

Before Tony could answer, Vision phased through the ceiling and stunned you. Until all you saw was darkness and all you felt was complete and utter betrayal.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

“Don’t hurt her!” Peter fought against Bruce holding him back as Vision came back up with your body. “Mr. Stark, what happened?”

“She found out.” Tony said simply, “Was Fury contacted?”

“He’ll be here in ten minutes,” Steve informed the team, “what happens now?”

“Damage control,” Sam said.

“No—” Peter began to protest, but Tony held his hand up, shushing the boy.

“We’re not killing her.” He stated sternly. “We can still salvage this. We just have to explain—”

“That won’t be easy,” Wanda chimed in, “she may be unconscious, but I can still hear her thoughts. They’re… dark, to say the least. The only one who may be able to get to her is Peter. She has no thoughts on him right now. It’s chaotic, though. Violent even.”

“I’ll do it,” Peter said without a moment's hesitation. Where is Vision taking her?”

“Her room is able to double as a cell. We installed a special lock on the door, it’s power resistant.”

Peter nodded and made his way to your room so he could sit by your bed while he waited for you to wake up. “Hey!” Steve called to him as he walked away. Peter turned back, “Red button is behind the painting, press it if you need any backup.”

“She isn’t a monster guys,” Peter snapped, “I’ll be fine.”

He walked away and the moment he was out of sight, Tony left out a deep, shaky breath. “He doesn’t even know the half of it.”

“Her file—her entire past even—” Natasha sighed, “more red in her ledger than I’ve ever seen.”

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

You woke abruptly, jolted awake when the shock of the stunning you received no longer left you unconscious but was still coursing through your veins. For a moment, a happy, blissfully ignorant moment, you forgot why your bones suddenly ached. You thought it was just a bad dream. Until Peter rushed up to you and wiped the tears from your eyes.

“It’s okay,” He hummed, shushing your crying. You hadn’t even realized you were crying, “it’s gonna be okay.”

“You knew.” You said softly, the realization hitting you with another wave of nauseating anger and sadness, “you knew all along.”

Peter froze as the guilt rendered him stiff, but he just shushed you again and pressed a kiss to your head.

You pried yourself away from his arms, “Are you scared of me too?”

“No,” Peter said immediately, “never, (Y/N). I love you.” He reached out to hold you again but you flinched away.

“Nobody loves me.” You realized, “It was all a lie. They were never on my side.”

“(Y/N), I’m sorry,” Peter tried, “we love you, I swear it. We all love you and want what's best for you.”

“I’m not even a person to you!” You snapped, the rage personifying itself as a force that launched Peter off your bed. “I’m just a weapon.”

Peter stood up from where he’d fallen, “No, (Y/N), don’t say that—”

“It wasn’t real, Peter!” You yelled, “It was a lie, all of it! Did you even love me? Did any of you even care about me?”

“It was real,” Peter persisted, “my love was real—is real!”

“They’ll kill me now, won’t they?”

“No, I’m not going to let that happen.” Peter assured you, “Mr. Stark would never—”

“What if they’re right? What if I am a monster?”

“(Y/N)—”

“I need to get out of here,” You decided, “Peter, you need to let me out. They’ll kill me. If Tony won’t, Fury will.”

Peter looked at the door and contemplated his options. On one hand, he trusted Tony not to hurt you. You were his daughter, and even though your relationship didn’t start like the average father-daughter relationship, he loved you all the same. On the other hand, Fury was not as easily swayed, and from the commotion, he could hear sifting down the hallway from the common room, he didn’t have much time before Fury burst in.

“I can’t,” Peter finally said, “but it’ll be okay, Mr. Stark will—” but he was cut off by the crashing of glass. The long floor-to-ceiling window was shattered and you were presumably falling now. Your room was in the penthouse, aka the 93rd floor.

Peter raced to the edge of the window and was fully prepared to jump out and save you, when your floating body flew back up towards him, and then past him.

“You couldn’t even save me,” You said disappointedly. “Or maybe you just didn’t want to.”

The tears were more prevalent than ever in your eyes. They were glassy and seemed to glow in the dark of dusk. You tried to hold in your sob, but it was useless and as you cried out, a blast of energy shot out of you and shook the tower.

“She’s just a kid!” Tony yelled, ready to punch Fury, but Steve was holding him back, “She’s a child!”

“She is a monster!” Fury argued back, “Must I remind you why we did this in the first place? The town in Maine; gone! Three thousand people dead!”

“She didn’t know,” Bucky tried, “and you wouldn’t let her. If you—if we would’ve just been honest with her at the start—”

“It’s too late for that now,” Fury said gravely as the tower began to shake, “much too late.”

“You did this,” Natasha said to Fury, “if anyone dies, it’s on you.”

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

In a fit of rage, you blasted through the windows into the common room. The sheer force of your body hurling itself through the windows knocked most of the Avengers down. Once the dust settled, you set your sights on Fury, who was already back up, gun pointed at you.

“You,” You seethed, “you did this.”

“(Y/N), I’m gonna need you to stand down.” Fury spoke gruffly.

“Or what? You’ll kill me? Wasn’t that the plan all along? How is me standing down going to stop that?”

“I won’t ask again—”

“No,” You agreed, “you won’t.”

You looked at the rest of the team, all of their expressions laced with fear. After everything you had done. After all you’d been through together, every single one of them feared you.

And then there was Peter, just now running into the common room. He looked at you with the most sorrowful expression.

“Please don’t,” He tried, holding his hand out for you.

“I’m sorry,” You said softly, a small bubble of regret trying to rise its way out of you, but you shoved it down, and you brought the tower down with it.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

“Hey, dad!” You smiled excitedly when Tony entered the training room.

“Hey kiddo,” Tony chuckled, ruffling your hair, “what’re you doing down here?”

“Look,” You whipped your head around and focused on the fluorescent lights on the ceiling. One by one they flickered before shutting off, “I woke up this morning to all the lights in my room busted out.”

“Wow,” Tony nodded, impressed. “So what’s that now? Power number five?”

“Four,” You said proudly, turning all the lights back on, “maybe if I’m lucky, I’ll wake up tomorrow and be able to fly.”

“Fly?”

“Yeah, I think it’d be freeing.” You shrugged, “Wanda was flying the other day, it looked really cool.”

“You could always use one of my suits if you wanna fly.”

“I know, but it wouldn’t be the same as doing it myself. I just need to work on it more.”

“I hope you’re not gonna be throwing yourself off roofs or anything,” Tony eyed you suspiciously.

“No,” You chuckled, “I’ll start small, maybe Wanda can help me.”

“You come up with a new power nearly every day,” Tony smiled, “I’m sure you’ll master flight soon enough, little bird.”

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

As the tower fell in a cloud of ash and dust, Wanda shielded her team members the best she could, save for Vision, who was already flying above the rubble, and Fury, who was nowhere to be found, but whose grunts of pain could be heard by Peter as the building fell out from under his feet.

When the dust had settled, and the whole team was on the ground, beaten up and bruised, but alive, they called for you.

“(Y/N)?” Tony called, “(Y/N)!”

“Where did she go?” Peter limped to Tony, “(Y/N)!”

“She’s still around,” Wanda said softly, “I can hear her thoughts.” Her eyebrows furrowed and her nose scrunched as she listened for what you were thinking, and then, she gasped in horror, covering her mouth.

“What?” Steve grabbed her shoulder, “What is it?”

Wanda pointed a shaky finger to the cloud of dust surrounding the wreckage around them. “S-she just—” but she didn’t even need to get the words out when your silhouette appeared from the smoke. You were standing tall, victorious even, and as you walked towards the group, they finally saw what had Wanda so shaken up.

In your hands, held out in front of you like a trophy, was the severed head of Nicholas Fury. The blood covered your entire torso, hands, and arms. You walked slowly, as each individual team member got a good look at what you had in your hands.

You could practically smell the fear on them. Natasha screamed and Wanda cried out.

“What—what have you done?” Steve gasped.

You dropped the head and it rolled over, tapping Peter’s gym shoes. He looked down and saw the last look of complete terror overtaking Fury’s eyes. He turned and vomited.

You looked at your blood-soaked hands and then back at your family’s faces. And then you did the unthinkable. You smiled. You chuckled even. You chuckled at the irony of it.

They lied to you in an attempt to keep you on their side; to keep you sane. But their lies caused the exact thing they’d always feared. And that was the biggest joke in the world to you.

“I’m sorry,” You giggled, “it’s not funny, I know.”

“(Y/N)...” Bucky sighed, stepping forward.

“Stop,” You held your hand up, holding his breath captive, “don’t get any closer.”

Bucky wheezed and held a hand to his neck, trying to claw a breath out.

“Stop (Y/N),” Tony demanded, “you’re hurting him.”

You dropped her hand and looked at Tony incredulously, “like you all haven’t hurt me,” You said sarcastically. “You lied to me. You betrayed me. You used me! My entire life, you used me! My memories are gone; you stole them!”

“We were trying to protect you!” Steve yelled, “We loved you.”

“(Y/N), please,” Wanda begged, “we’re sorry.”

“You’re not,” You frowned, “but you will be.”

You held your hand up, ready to deliver another blow, but Peter stepped in front of them, “(Y/N), stop!” He held his hands out, “This isn’t you. Please, just listen to us.”

“This isn’t me?” You repeated, “Did you or did you not all say that I was a weapon?”

“We did, but (Y/N)—”

“Did you steal my past from me?” You interrupted. “Did you use me? Try to keep me on your side by lying to me?

“We did!” Tony yelled, “but we were wrong (Y/N)! I’m sorry. I’m sorry we lied to you.” Tony stepped towards you and held his hands out, “we’re sorry, little bird.”

“You’re not,” You said as tears began to fill your eyes, the impact of what you had done finally catching up to you.

Tony nodded, “We are. We love you, (Y/N).” Tony gave you a small smile as he got closer, “Come here, please (Y/N).”

You lowered your hands and caved, “I just wanted to be a part of your family; a real member.”

“I know,” Tony nodded, gripping onto your shoulder as you sobbed. “You are (Y/N). You’re one of us.”

You rested your head on Tony’s shoulder as he held you, “That’s all I ever wanted.” You whispered, relaxing in Tony’s arms.

And then you felt it. The sharp sting in your neck soon turned into a burning pain. You pulled away and held a hand to the side of your throat, feeling the blade that was lodged in there.

“No!” Peter screamed, running towards you, but Bruce held him back, “No! You promised! You promised, Stark!” He screamed, using all his energy and strength writhing in Bruce’s grip.

“Shhh,” Tony sat down and cradled you in his lap as he cried, “it’s okay.”

You choked on blood as it filled your lungs and splattered across your lips.

“I’m sorry,” Tony cried as you sputtered out unintelligible words, “it’s okay, little bird.” He shushed you before pressing a kiss to your head.

The rest of the team was frozen in shock. Steve held Natasha close as she cried in his arms and Wanda was on her knees, muffling her cries in her hands.

Bucky was on his knees too, numbly watching the scene before him.

Peter was still shaking in Bruce’s arms, crying out to you. “(Y/N)! Let me go! (Y/N)!”

You looked at Tony, just before your eyes glazed over and uttered your final words. Mouth filled with blood you looked up at Tony and whispered, almost too quietly to catch, “I’m sorry.”

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

✧tags & moots✧

@a-daydreamers-day @aayaissaa @peni5parker @theonly1outof-a-billion @holland-styles @tomsoxytocin @peterbenjiparker @itscaminow @slut-for-steve-rogers @bradtomlovesya @petrsipdeyparker @sophiaparkerbarnesjewishdelis @runawaywithmyghost @hallecarey1 @vavilip @bi-lmg07 @micaelaf05 @cloudyfeel @ptersmj @princessofguineapigs @spidernerdsblog @spideyspeaches @justapurrcat @harryhollandsgirlfriend @hollandlover19 @annathesillyfriend @scarletspideyy @celestialholland @loveaffaire @sinisterspidey @arlo-sanders @selfcarecap @pogueslandia @tomshufflepuff

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hotwings0203 · 3 years

Text

I feel like Dabi would be the type of dude who would bully you incessantly at the LOV and for the life of you you can’t figure out why. He’s always around you and making snarky comments or pulling your hair, trying to catch you messing up on missions. You’re sure he hates you, and you do well to stay out of his way, or sometimes when you feel bold you’ll offer a quip of your own. The bullying increases whenever you talk to other guys at the bar, especially when you make Tomura crack a smile, Dabi’s breathing down your neck the second your leader leaves, calling you terrible names and pushing past your boundaries.

Cw: language, nsfw, noncon, manga spoilers, some angst?

In a perfect world, Touya would not have been abandoned and rejected by his family. In a perfect world, Dabi would not exist, and Touya would be eating dinner with his family right now as he shows his little brother how to properly wield fire to its fullest extent.

But there was no such thing as a perfect world, and therefore Dabi did exist. And Dabi doesn’t care for anyone, or anything.

Or so he tells himself.

“Slut”

“Nothing but eye candy, and shitty eye candy at that”

It’s nothing you haven’t heard before, but it doesn’t make it any easier to ignore him

“What was that all about, huh? The fuck are you and crusty snickering about?”

Fed up with his continuous antics, you decide to mouth off a little too.

“Oh nothing, just talking about how adorable you and Hawks would make as a couple. And wipe that sneer off your face, it looks like some of your staples fell out of your mouth.”

It’s nothing too snarky, but in a second he’s shoving you in some dark room, forearm pinned against your throat as his hand is lit up with blue flames merely inches away from you, snarling in your face.

“You wanna be funny, bitch? I got jokes of my own too, why dont I show you what happens to dumb little girls who don’t know their fucking place? I think that would be real funny.”

But his hand is stopped from drawing near your wide eyes when you both hear Twice and Toga calling everyone for their next meeting.

He pushes you away from him, giving you a murderous look over his shoulder as he leaves the room, not paying mind to the way you slide down the wall in the dark.

You take extra precaution to try avoiding him for the next few days, not even making eye contact with him when you two get teamed up for tasks. He never mentions the room incident, if anything he acts as if it never happens. It’s like whiplash for you, he tries to weirdly talk to you more but all you offer him is mumbles and hums of agreement.

The conversation is never long, but it starts to be less talk of degrading you and more of begrudging questioning of what you’ve been up to. You never engage, opting to pretend like you never heard him, and strangely enough he leaves it be.

You give him a side eye one day as he joins you at the bar (much to your discontent), downing your glass just to fill another.

He says nothing as he slides into the stool right next to you, and pours a glass of whiskey for himself as well.

It’s awkwardly silent, you’re not sure if you should leave or not, but you’d be damned if you try to initiate small talk with this psycho.

But then, he speaks.

“Is Shigaraki sending you on the mission to get that UA kid?”

His gravely voice rumbles and cracks from his usual lack of use, and he clears his throat after he talks.

“No.”

“Oh.”

This is excruciating, you think to yourself as he mulls over the drink in his hand for a silent minute or two.

Toga calls you over thankfully at the exact same moment, and you breathe out an inaudible sigh of relief as you slip off the stool to join her.

“Wait-“ Dabi grabs your arm and you flinch out of instinct, expecting a slap or a burn to come from him.

He sees your reaction and shakes his head dismissively, letting you go and muttering a “Nevermind”. You don’t ponder over it as you trip over your own feet to join the eccentric blond.

A week passes, and then two. With each day you maneuver your way around him, request to be partnered up with different people in private, and busy yourself in random tasks. Every time you pass him by the bar he lifts his head from whatever he’s doing and tries to maintain eye contact with you, even going so far as to open his mouth to say or ask god-knows-what.

You try to ignore the foreign hopeful glint in his glacial eyes as you walk right past him, ducking your head as you do so.

It drives Dabi crazy.

He can’t handle any more rejection, he thought his family would be the last straw for him to ever want recognition or love validation from again. He wants to talk to you, to hear your voice as it snaps back with witty comebacks of your own that he secretly enjoys so much, even if it means he has to force it out of you with hateful words. He wants to feel your hair underneath his scarred hands, even if he has to mask the soft wanting of you in forms of yanking the strands. He wants nothing more than to see your eyes fill up with no other sight than him and think only of him, even if it means he has to corner you and scare you into submission.

But your silence is something he’s not used to.

Well, to be fair, you weren’t silent completely, but the only sentences he was hearing from you nowadays was when you were speaking to Shigaraki or the other League members.

You were the only idiot who didn’t notice the smoke curling from his nostrils and ears comically when he’d finally see you stop your stoic act just to open up to other men apart from him. Spinner, Twice, and Compress backed off almost immediately from talking to you for too long when they’d see the look on his face as he watched you surrounded by them, but Tomura would merely smirk from behind your shoulders and keep a level gaze with his subordinate, knowing fully well why he was so pissed off.

You began to notice the weird energy at the base soon after the rest of the men would keep curt conversations with you in comparison to your long talks about video games, sex, and life after you would all win the war.

So you thought it would be best to ask the most semi-normal person there that wasn’t fueled with testosterone and aggression.

“I just don’t get it, why are they all being weird? I mean, we all used to talk so much and now they just...try avoiding me. Except for Tomura of course, he’s still normal I guess. But he always has this smirk on his face when I’m with him and I can’t figure out why.”

Toga stops cleaning her blood-laced needle to give you a sly look, all fangs and glinting white.

“And Dabi?”

“What about him?”

She sits back on her haunches and cocks her head at you. “You really don’t know what’s happening here, do ya?”

“No,” you roll your eyes in exasperation. “But I’ll gladly take any theories here, since apparently I’m the only one who doesn’t get it.”

“He likes you.”

You gape at her for a moment and then burst out laughing.

“What? That’s crazy, he doesn’t like me, he hates me!” He can barely stand being in a room with me, all he does is talk shit and harass me.”

The blond curiously licks at a bead of red from the top of the weapon and you cringe when her own tongue rips from the sharp point.

“You say he can’t stand being in a room with you, so then why is it that he’s always there? He might talk shit, but he talks to you out of everyone else right? Regardless of if it’s something mean.”

You’re thoroughly flabbergasted. She had a point, but it was too much to wrap your head around. She cheerfully hums and gets up to flounce around the room, cleaning her already-tidy room up to a T.

“And that little silent treatment act you’re giving him isn’t helping either. I swear, Jin told me Dabi almost burned his mouth off that one day you, him and Spinner were talking about GTA. He totally cornered the poor guy and threatened his life if he didn’t stop talking to you.”

“You’re joking.”

“Am not. He wanted to do the same to Tomura but I figure he wants to keep his job, so he won’t. Doesnt make it any better for him when you’re all chummy with the one person Dabi can’t stand the most, though.”

No wonder your leader was so smug whenever you two were in the same room, your attention solely focused on him.

You run your hands down your face, moaning about the whole situation being fucked. It’s just your luck that you couldn’t take a clue, but to be fair, how could you? Being called worthless and a waste of space wasn’t exactly what you had in mind for flirty banter.

“Soooo what’re you gonna do now? I heard he’s gonna try talking to you for realsies like, tomorrow or something.”

“Tomorrow?” You yelp, jumping up to your feet. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I can’t face him!”

“Oops,” she giggles, twirling with outstretched arms around her room and falling down onto her bed.

“Oh god, I can’t do this. I don’t even know if I like him! He’s such an ass, and even when he tries to come off as normal he’s just so..unsettling. I don’t think I’ve ever had a good conversation with him.”

Toga props her elbow up to rest her chin on her hand, frowning in thought.

“Why not just tell him how you feel?”

You snort and fold your arms. “Yeah, because the psycho arsonist is really gonna take the word no well.”

“Hmm.. I see what you mean. Oh well, whatever you choose, I’ll support you!”

And with that she skips out of the room sing songing for Twice to make a clone for her.

You were fucked.

And sure enough, the next day he approaches you, hands stuffed in his pockets and an almost bored look on his face.

“Yo newbie, I gotta talk to you for a second. Come with me”.

You look blearily up at him through eye bags and mussed hair, a direct telling of your sleepless night. Your stomach drops when you hear his words, but you nod your head and take a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself of the speech you practiced till the sun rose.

No one else is bothering you both today, Shigaraki having gone to visit All For One and the rest of the League left to their own devices. It was something you weren’t so comfortable with, but you doubted a hero would come to save you.

He leads you through the short winding hallways, each step of his growing louder and heavier as the space started growing smaller. Finally, he reaches a dimly lit room and stops outside the door, gesturing for you to go in with a casual wave of his patched wrist.

“After you.”

You raise an unsure eyebrow at his uncharacteristic show of consideration, and do as he says. You’re sweating bullets, fists balled so that your nails are digging into your palms, and vision going in and out of focus as your eyes begin to adjust to your surroundings.

A loud bang pulls you out of your stupor, and you whip around at the sound.

Dabi is already staring back at you with lidded eyes, leaning his weight against the door, his arms crossing over each other.

You shift on both feet, picking at your nails nervously.

“So, what did you wanna talk about?”

He says nothing, but just observes you, his head slightly tilted as if you were some abstract art piece.

“Dabi.”

“You got a lot of nerve, y’know that?”

He pushes himself off the wall and advances slowly towards you, hands stuffed in his trench coat pockets.

You immediately back up with raised palms, sputtering indignantly at his offensive movements coming closer and closer. However you thought his ‘confession’ would go, this was most definitely not starting out like how you planned

“Excuse me? What’re you talking about-“

“I know what you’re doing. You think whoring yourself out to ol’ crusty and the rest of the guys here is gonna make everyone forget just how useless you actually are. What the fuck do you even do here? You fuck up half the missions which I have to come bail your ass out of, you constantly put us in jeopardy by being all friendly with everyone, and you can’t even keep your mouth shut when I need to let off a little steam, as I rightfully should.”

In a perfect world, Dabi would be the light of your eyes, the hero of your world. In a perfect world, Dabi would be able to hold your hand in his smooth one and tell you that he wants you so much that it impairs his rational judgement and makes him say things he doesn’t mean. He’d tell you that your presence is like a weight lifted off his chest, your presence means he doesn’t have to think or worry about the outside world, he just wants you all to himself without anyone interfering.

But this is not a perfect world, and Dabi is not a hero, but rather one of the worst villains.

So he does exactly what one does as a villain.

Instead of a loving look that he knows he’s incapable of, Dabi looks down into your horrified gaze as he traps you against the wall between his scarred arms, spewing misplaced venom at you.

“I don’t know what your problem is, but you need to chill out. First you go ballistic on me ‘cause I talked to Tomura for no reason, then you act all weird and quiet as if you’re some decent person, and now you think you can just bring me in here and tell me how worthless I am? Go fuck yourself, seriously.”

You scoff and make your way to push him but stop when he does what he did a couple weeks ago. You hold bated breath as he casually brings an inflamed hand to scratch at his face as if he can’t feel the hellfire emitting from it, and let out a whine of distress as he lowers his head mere inches from yours, lips almost touching.

“Stop talking to the rest of the guys,” he breaths. “Stop smiling, laughing, or going near anyone who isn’t me.”

You wonder if he knows how insane he sounds. He does, but that’s nothing he doesn’t know already. If anything, it solidifies in his mind that if he is to be as bad as the world has made him out to be, then he is acting exactly fit for the role.

“Why?”

“I don’t need to give sluts like you a reason. It should come as easy, right? What’s putting out for one more person?”

Your eyes are brimming with tears now, your stoic facade showing cracks as you sniffle a little bit.

He eats it up and groans watching salty rivers cascade down your cheeks. Suddenly, he feels as though he can no longer hold back anymore, he feels as though if he thinks for one more second he’ll combust.

So, acting on instinct, he surges forward and presses his lips against yours, swallowing your cries of distress and holding your hands above your head in midst of them frantically beating on his chest.

Your lips are so, so soft compared to his and it’s making him sink deeper into this instinctual daze. He puffs against your writhing lips as he thrusts his hot tongue in your mouth.

You try to bite him but when his hands heat up against your skin you resign to your fate and wail, allowing him to pull his hips flush against yours and start humping your thighs.

He draws back and bites your lips, teeth clacking against yours as he does so. You open your terrified eyes and blanch when you see the look on his face.

Lust is clearly drawn everywhere, from his blown pupils to his heaving chest, all the way to his flushed face and wild eyes. He looks as though he’s about to eat you alive and it’s appropriate that you feel like a lamb about to be slaughtered.

“Dabi, wait, please stop-“

But he cuts your pants off again in favor of slamming his hips against yours again and grinding impossibly hard on your legs, the friction of his jeans catching on your clothed cunt and forcing a mewl out of you.

“I’m not gonna stop. I’ve had enough of you teasing. You’re mine now, and if it takes burning our dear leader alive and this whole place down for you to understand that then I’ll fucking do it.”

He thought that terrorizing you would ease the empty feeling in his heart, that continuously berating you would force him to see you as what he always said you were, just another empty headed cunt. He thought that distancing himself from you and focusing on other things would make him forget about the soft feelings he longed to share with you, feelings he thought perished in the fire he was in when he was a young boy .

Even now, there is an ache in his chest as he hears you beg for him to stop, to let you go, that you’re sorry for whatever you did.

But this is not a perfect world, and not everyone gets their way in life.

You should really learn that, because Dabi already has.

And so Dabi will act accordingly to what life has put out before him .

#dabi imagine #yandere dabi x reader #dabi smut #bnha imagines #bnha smut #mha smut #yandere dabi #tw: noncon #touya #bnha touya #touya todoroki #Dabi #dabi x reader

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tojigasm · 3 years

Note

Ok hear me out -

I've been watching a lot of the period simulator on your boyfriend challenge on tiktok and it had me thinking.

Could the tough Toji handle a level 5 period cramp? In fact why not crank it up to level 10 which is a labor pain. I low-key high-key need a whole one-shot of this idea.

This so funny oh my god 💀💀 I changed this up to be a childbirth simulator, I hope that's okay! <3 but anyways,,, we all know toji would lose his absolute mind but be so confident in the beginning. thankyou for this suggestion sweet anon I think this was the most fun i had writing a more comedic piece

"Oh I bet you couldn't last fifteen minutes!" You pointed a finger at toji's chest from where he sat on the leather couch; arms draped lazily over the pillows.

Toji let out a scoff, shaking his head to the side lightly as you crossed your arms in confidence.

Toji may be strong but he was also a man. Put a man through the pain of childbirth and he'll fold. A part of you did feel a little bad as you were forcing him to go through the a similar pain you'd gone through when delivering megumi when he'd already experienced the emotional pain of having to support you.

"Kid, I kill cursed energy for a living, I think I'll make it." He gestured languishly with his hands, crossing his leg to rest his foot over his knee as he leaned back deeper into the cushions.

"Okay" you clicked your tongue, smirking to yourself before walking up to him and placing a soft kiss on his lips, "no tap outs or I edge you next time we have sex." You winked.

Toji's jaw dropped at that, stammering over his words as you left the living room, "i-im not gonna tap out!" His cheeks filled with heat, crossing his arms in a pout.

---

Toji kept the farce of confidence up all the way until the lady arrived at your home; an obvious brief case filled with toji's torment in her right hand as she shook the other with your own and toji's.

"So are you two young parents?" The kind lady asked through a smile, wiping her hands down with an alcohol wipe before pulling on a pair of gloves.

Toji laughed lightly at the word "young" yeah, he had knocked you up while you were young, but toji? Toji was old enough to be your father at this point.

"Yeah, somethin' like that" he ran a hand through his dark locks, "she's tryin' to put me through the pain she felt" toji let out a laugh at that.

You were sitting by toji, covering your mouth as you laughed at toji's defeated expression. "Baby, we don't have to do this, you know"

Toji began to pull the hem of his shirt over his abdomen, resting it on his chest as the lady came over and began to wipe his stomach over with an alcohol wipe, the sensation making toji shiver.

"No, I wanna do it." Toji spoke as he watched the lady wipe his abdomen over, "I mean, I think its only fair, you did birth our son."

Your cheeks heated up at his words, a feeling of domestication purring through your stomach.

Patting your thigh gently toji gave you a smirk, his dorky grin filled to the brim with confidence, "it'll be fineee, im a big boy." He shook his head a bit, his fluffed raven locks bouncing.

You gave him a gentle smile; still uncertain about this. Toji had a tendency to take things too far - not in the sense that he felt as though he needed to prove himself but just in the definite fact that he was ridiculously set on doing something once he agreed to it.

The kind lady picked up a remote and stood in front of the two of you, twisting the dials - a clicking sound echoing throughout the room. "Okay, you're going to feel a little pinch of pain."

You took toji's hand in your own, knowing if this was as legit as it was made out to be- that toji would need the support, mentally and physically.

Toji gave a curt nod, looking straight head before his expression pulled into a tight grimace; brows furrowed and eyes clenched somewhat.

"You okay, baby?" You ran your thumb over his knuckle, bringing your other hand up to cover your mouth as a few giggles escaped.

"Huh?- oh, yeah, im- oh!" He gripped your hand tighter as you heard the lady click another dial. You could only assume that meant the pain had increased.

This went on for a couple minutes; toji holding your hand in his, grip strengthening, spitting out soft curses through his clenched whites.

For the amount of clicked dials you had heard in the past twenty minutes - toji was handling the situation extremely well. His practice in being an assassin had payed off - even if it was in simulated child birth.

Toji kept his breathing under control, chest rising and falling slowly - only hitching when the clicking of the dial increased.

"Kid, im- oh shit!" Toji hissed, readjusting himself, thighs spreading wider to help put some of the strain off his abdomen.

"Is this the shit you went through with Megumi? oh jesus!" Cursing, toji hunched over his middle.

Giving a light laugh you nodded as you helped push him back against the couch pillows.

"More or less." You ran a hand up and down his arm comforting, "baby..." you looked him and up and down.

Toji had began to pant as the simulated pain sent shivers throughout his body, his grip on your hand was beginning to hurt you.

"Okay, okay I yeild!" He gripped the stickers attached to his pelvis, ripping them off with an exhale.

Leaning back against the couch you brought your hands up to cover your face as you laughed.

"Its not funny!" Toji huffed, rough façade threatening to break as he watched you begin to cry at his reaction.

Slowly he smiled at your laughs, pushing your shoulder gently as you continued to laugh.

#toji fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk toji #toji #toji fushiguro x reader #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji x reader #toji fluff

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lonely-lost-soul · 3 years

Text

A Pirate's Life for Me

Cover Art Done By: @fridaydev-draws and @friday-dsv (Dreamsmp x reader) Pirate Au! Love Interests: C!Wilbur, C!Techno, C!Dream, C!Sapnap, C!Quackity, and C!Schlatt

~~~

Salt burned your lungs as you tossed open your window with a loud bang, the seagulls perching on your flower boxes screeched in protest and flew from your window. “Fucking sky rats get the fuck out of here you heathens!” You snarled out the window shaking your fist at the bothersome birds, the sounds of the ocean crashing on the shore filled your ears as well as the chatter of the dock workers. You let the breeze blow back your hair and you heard someone calling your name from down below.

“Good morning (Y/n)!” You glanced below you and grinned,

“Morning Eret!” They waved back enthusiastically their dress spilling around their ankles, a basket of fruit was balanced on his hip. “Opening early today? I'm sure your patrons would be happy to start their drunken stupor early,” She held a hand to his mouth snickering and you shot them a look.

“If that gets more money in my pocket then so be it, I won't complain too much.” You shrugged, “Will I still see you later tonight?”

“Always do dove, how can I resist a drink from my favorite bartender.”

“You can’t it’s my charm.”

“Will the both of you shut the fuck up!” Another man’s voice growled from another open window, “It’s too early for your bullshit.” You saw Eret click his tongue but smiled up at you despite the man's protests,

“I’m heading to the market anyway. These fruits won’t sell themselves, I'll see you later.”

“See you soon!” You closed your windows once more, but not before urging your daisies to grow one last time. You tossed open the curtains allowing light to spill into your cozy home, a small carpet was in the middle of your room. It was a deep red and the pattern was made of gold yarn, aside from that everything in your residency was made of dark wood. Your shelves were littered with books and empty cups, and your old worn journal sat open on your desk. It was filled with childhood memories and you continued to write in it to this day, it was easier then, things were simple and everything was innocent and new to you. Now your days were filled with sea fairing idiots who liked to drink themselves stupid, but you could handle yourself, you always kept your father's dagger on your thigh at all times. Those who were frequent customers knew not to mess with you and those who were new learned their lesson within the first ten minutes of meeting you. You inherited the bar from your father, a kindhearted man who died a few years before today, leaving you with the bar and the dagger you had on your hip. You fished through your closet pulling out your clothes for the day, your dress was a gorgeous light coffee color and came down to your ankles. The bottom was flared and had dark brown panels on the sides, it faded inward to a light green then back to the coffee color. The corset around your waist was a dark brown with light green trim, you tied it tight with a small huff making sure your waist was sinched perfectly. The sleeves came down to your elbows allowing you to move your arms freely while making drinks. The top of the dress ended just below your collarbone, you strapped your dagger to your thigh before lacing up your knee-high black boots.

You thought back to your tavern downstairs, you were fortunate enough that you weren’t running this entire operation yourself. You ended up hiring help and they were like family and you knew they saw you as such as well. Most of the girls didn’t have a family of their own so you gave them room and board, also money, of course, you weren’t a terrible boss! You opened the door to your room, you watched Cecil, the tavern’s mascot trot out of Juniper’s room. The border collie liked to switch up which rooms he stayed in protecting every one of your girls when you couldn’t be there for them.

The first of your girls was Adelaide or Addie, she was one of the first to fall under your care. She was around your age, a motherly type, sheep hybrid, who cared for the girls, and always gave the drunk patrons with mommy issues a shoulder to cry on. Her long brown hair always hung down her back, she typically worked tables, served food and drinks, and always got a generous tip from patrons.

The next girl was Judas, a squid-enderman hybrid who was taller than you could ever wish to be, although intimidating you couldn’t meet a kinder woman. A jack of all trades the woman helped out wherever she could, black-ish purple hair curled around her shoulders and some people came specifically to hear her sing. Her voice was like rich velvet and lured men and women in like a siren.

Juniper was after Judas, a demon hybrid who was naive but you’d be a fool to underestimate her. She worked beside you at the bar, she can make some mean fruity drinks, Eret always preferred her drinks over yours. Freckles adorned her face and shoulders, her light brown hair curled down to her middle back, purple horns sprouted from the top of her head. You wanted to adorn it with gold jewelry and you were saving up to gift some to her.

Yeti was a human woman like yourself, she didn’t bother with those who were rude or obnoxious. She kept to herself only really talking when she was spoken to or when there was an opportunity to crack a rare joke. She typically stayed on the sidelines, out of the scenes and Yeti liked to help Judas decorate her sets.

Zig was a kind young adult, they got along with everyone who came inside the tavern. Soft emerald eyes drew people in, and they tried to make sure tensions within the bar didn’t rise and start a fight. There would always be one or two that’s just natural, but one look at Zig and his magic words and they seemed to disperse, not wanting to hurt the kid’s feelings.

Vendetta was the tallest member of the group you had taken in, she was stunningly beautiful and didn't take shit from anybody. She was a guard dog if you will, making sure no one fucked with any of the girls in your tavern. While Zig did their best to keep people under control sometimes they couldn’t win. That’s when Ven would step in and ‘kindly’ escort them off the premises with or without force.

The youngest member here was Luvena. She was a moo-bloom hybrid with soft brown hair that sprouted flowers, her cow ears would twitch when she was excited and followed Addie around like she was her daughter. Addie took her under her wing and was training her to be a perfect little waitress, absolutely warming customers’ hearts. Luvena also loved to give out flowers, she was a fan favorite bringing new life into the tavern.

Cecil barked seeing his mama and scampered over to you, you poured food into his bowl as Juniper wandered into the hallway. Her head rested on the doorframe as she gave you a tried wave, “Morning (Y/n).”

“Morning Juni, We’re opening a little early today. Take your time I’m not expecting a big rush of bar patrons this early.” You assured her and she gave a sleepy nod,

“I’ll be down as soon as Ven’s out of the shower.” She yawned, “This beauty doesn’t come naturally.”

“Hardly darling you’re gorgeous just the way you are.” You reassured with a wink, Juniper flushed a little, happily laughing beside you.

“Just go wake the others will you, you flirt!”

Tossing your head back you gave a happy laugh heading down the hallway to make sure everyone was awake and ready to go for later. Addie and Luvena shared a room so she was in charge of waking up the youngest member of the tavern. Judas was already awake making breakfast for everyone when you headed downstairs, Zig was sitting on the counter beside her, they were the designated taste tester.

“Good morning Miss (Y/n)!” Zig chirped, the young adult hummed fondly, “Sleep okay?”

“Absolutely. What about you both? Thank you for making breakfast Judas.” You hummed fondly and Judas had a shy smile on her face.

“I slept well thank you.” Judas hummed softly, “Also it’s my pleasure. Want to make sure everyone’s healthy and alright.” She let out a little squeak as you wrapped your arms around her body, you barely came up to her chest,

“Judas please marry me,” You complained, “Your breakfast is always heavenly and you care for everyone. Please be my wife.”

“(Y/n)! Please.” She sputtered face turning a dark purple, Zig made a noise of protest and held his hand in the air.

“If she won’t marry you I will!”

“Zig! I’d be honored!”

Their entire face lit up with excitement and they hopped off the table to hug you tightly, you hugged them back and pressed a fond kiss to the top of their head. “I got to open up the tavern, you mind setting the table for me Zig?”

“Sure Miss!”

You sent Judas a kiss in the air which her face burned at, quickly going back to her cooking. You smiled eagerly and unlocked the door to the tavern, you shoved a bucket in front of the door to keep it open. The salty ocean air wafted through your nostrils and your eyes sparkled wondrously.

Today is going to be a good day.

Almost immediately a particular bastard caught your eye,

“You’re here early.” You mused raising an eyebrow,

“Heard you were opening early today sweetcheeks,” His voice was a low baritone, rough from years of smoking and drinking. Horns curled around his fluffy ears that stood out against his gruff exterior, he was a ram hybrid at its finest. “Figured I’d take the opportunity to get a special drink from my special girl,” He mused looking you up and down drinking in your figure. You scoffed at the retired man, he dressed like he was cosplaying captain jack sparrow, the gun’s in his belt just added to his costume and so did his large ruffled shirt, he was never one to forget his gold jewelry.

“Where’s Quackity?” You ignored him sitting him at his usual table, he frowned but you knew he was taking it as an opportunity to stare at your ass. He slid into the stool and put his feet up on the table, his boots were muddy but you could only control him so much. He was too much of a regular to get scared off by your threats and scolding.

“He’ll be in at his normal time. He’s not much of a day drinker, although can’t say I’m complaining. Having all your attention on me and all, considering I’m the only one in here. That being said, I’ll have my usual sweetcheeks.”

“Stop calling me that,” You scolded with a certain fondness that was reserved for the man. “You’re lucky you’re my favorite regular Schlatt,” you gave his ears a fond pinch and he bleated. He sent you a scalding look as you walked away, although the look soon fell as he got a good look at your ass once again.

“I’m your only regular sugar tits!”

“Schlatt feet off the table.” Addie criticized whacking his boots with a rolled-up menu, he rolled his eyes but dropped his feet to the floor. “You should know this by now, we go through this every day.”

“Yeah, yeah little lamb I’m on it. Judas here?”

“She’s always here,” She huffed spreading the menu down on the table. “Do you want your usual or something different? Should I get Quackity’s drink ready too?”

“Nah just stick with mine, for now, tell Judas I’d like to see her.”

Addie clicked her tongue and placed her hand on her hip, “fine. But if you’re just going to grossly flirt with her as you do with (y/n), then keep it to yourself.”

“You’re not the boss of me. Just because you look like an old hag-” The way she glared at him sent a chill down his spine, “shit babe take a joke will you.”

Eventually, people began to file into the tavern, as the morning faded into the afternoon and then into the evening. The tavern was bustling with life, Judas’s elegant voice traveled through the crowds and her voices seemed to float above the voices. Quackity joined Schlatt by his side seemingly irritated by a conversation they were having, Schlatt was about five drinks in at this point, which was much less than his usual, and Quackity on his second.

“What are they talking about?” Luvena asked swinging her legs as she sat on the bar beside you. Her moobloom ears twitching every so often as she tried to eavesdrop on their conversation,

“Vena it’s impolite to eavesdrop.” You scolded bopping her on the head lightly, she whined and rubbed the top of her head.

“I wasn’t!” She argued as you rolled your eyes, you looked over at the two men to find Quackity looking over at you. His hand was raised in the air, one finger was up summoning you to get him another drink.

“I’ll be back, why don’t you talk to Ven while I’m gone. She’ll keep an eye on you.”

“I don’t need a babysitter!”

“Good thing she doesn’t want to babysit your ass either, now shoo.” You motioned her to hop off the bar and she did so with a long, dramatic sigh. You looked over at Ven who gave you a silent nod, letting you know she’d watch out for the youngest member of your band of misfits. Meanwhile, you grabbed Quackity another drink and walked over to the two men at the table, “Someone order a drink?”

“Aye! Mamacita! Fancy seeing you here.” Quackity purred a bright smile spreading across his face seeing that you were the one to deliver his drink,

“Hey Big Q,” You greeted placing the drink in front of him, “You doing okay?”

“Better now that an angel walked into my sight,” He flirted and you rolled your eyes. “What? It’s true! You always brighten my day you know? Ow!” Schlatt hit his ex-first mate over the head,

“Take a breath lover boy. Thanks for the drink sugar tits.”

“You’re welcome, what were the both of you talking about if I may ask.” You hummed grabbing some of Schlatt’s empty glasses, an uncharacteristic frown came over both their faces. “Oh? Touchy subject?”

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. Just dishing out some old problems, most of which are better left unsaid.” He aimed that statement at Quackity, his jaw seemed clenched and Quackity’s brow furrowed in annoyance.

“Well I just want to remind the both of you,” You passed the tray of empty glasses over to Addie as she walked by, she took them swiftly. You grabbed the side of both their heads and pressed them against your chest, not that you knew but both men’s flushed to the tips of their ears. “No physical fights are allowed in this tavern. If one starts I won’t hesitate to kick your fucking asses. Got it?” They looked over your chest and locked eyes with one another, after years on the sea they could read one another’s facial expressions rather easily and at that moment they shared the same thought,

‘They should fight more often.’

“I said, got it?”

“Yes ma’am,” The repeated simultaneously as you pulled away,

“That’s what I like to hear-”

“(Y/n)!” Vendetta’s velvety voice called out from behind you, you turned and saw a group of newcomers file into your bar. Your body tensed momentarily,

Pirates.

Schlatt turned his head to follow your gaze and he tensed from behind you, “fuck me.” He growled and Quackity raised an eyebrow at his captain, he turned to look over his shoulder and his face lit up.

“Sapnap!”

The pirate who had a white bandana tied around his forehead glanced over at him and a smile lit up across his features. “Quackity? Is that you?”

“My man!” He stood up from his chair heading over to wrap the man in a hug, “I haven’t seen you in years, man.” You zoned out of their conversation eyes locking with a few of the other pirates who walked into the tavern. Vendetta and Addie both greeted them, but everyone who was under your care knew to keep their guard up around pirates. From what you could gather there seemed to be two crews, a crew of what only seemed to be two, Sapnap was included. The fire demon was still talking with Quackity, while the other man took in the view of the tavern, he had shaggy blonde hair, and had a few scars across his face. A porcelain mask sat on top of his head, a forest green cloak was around his shoulders, his hood was lowered around his neck. A sword was strapped tight against his hip and there was another dagger that seemed to be tucked against his side. His eyes gazed towards you and he winked teasingly with a coy smile, you scoffed looking over at Addie.

“Seat those two gentlemen yeah? Be careful, I’ll tell Ven and Yeti to keep an eye.” Addie looked at you, concern written on her soft features but she nodded. While Addie departed, you noticed Ven talking with the other group. Luvena was hiding behind Vendetta’s long legs, although a tall blonde boy seemed very keen on talking to her. You smoothed out your dress and moved towards the group of three, you eyed them up casually. The blonde looked to be around Luvena’s age, he had a shit-eating grin on his face and his uniform matched that of the second tallest in the group. The second tallest was clad in a light blue jacket with large golden buttons on the red collar. He had a cream-frilled shirt underneath and a black belt holding up his brown slacks, those were tucked into black boots. On his back seemed to be a guitar and was the only one of them not holding a weapon, but you knew better than to assume with pirates. His curly brown hair seemed to bounce every time he talked, he seemed to be the ringleader but there was no doubt that the real ringleader was the hybrid standing beside him. He was taller, on par with Vendetta in height, he had long pink hair that was tied in a ponytail on top of his head. A few pieces framed his face elegantly, there was no doubt he was the captain of the little crew that was in your tavern. He had a white shirt on with a deep low cut ‘V’ it showed off a good portion of his scared chest, around his shoulders sat a deep red jacket but his arms were outside of it and crossed over his chest. He seemed content on letting his second in command do all the talking, his red eyes were the only ones to meet yours. His head tilted upwards and before Vendetta could stop him he walked over towards you,

“You own the tavern?” His voice was a low monotone and it sent an array of pleasant chills up your spine.

“I do,” You raised an eyebrow crossing your arms over your chest, “Names (Y/n). You are?”

“Captain Technoblade of the ship Odyssey, I was hoping you had a few rooms and a table available. My brothers and I are pretty exhausted, we’ve been sailing all night.”

Brothers, they certainly didn’t all look alike, but then again you certainly had a mix of girls in your care. Your tongue swiped against the top row of your teeth, “Why don’t you and your brothers take a seat at the bar for now. Juniper will be happy to serve you, I’ll see if we have some free rooms available.”

“Thank you, once you return I’ll introduce them to you if you’d like,” Technoblade bowed his head before turning back to get his brother’s attention.

“I’d like that thank you.” You gave a nod motioning for Vendetta to follow you as you slid behind the bar with Juniper, Judas had also taken a spot sitting on the bar. You figured you’d let her know as well, considering she was another adult figure in the group. You knew either Juniper or Judas would fill in Addie considering the three were close. “Ven, can they be trusted?”

“Not too sure about the masked man, the one Quackity seems to be familiar with seems decent enough. He’s a fire demon though, could smell him from miles away, we all just need to be cautious.”

“Agreed,” Juniper added tapping her finger on her chin. “We should just try to curb all fighting if at all possible, what did the captain of the other group ask you?”

“They want a room, I’m about to check to see if we have availability. Thoughts on that?”

Judas let out a low hum her eyes followed both sets of pirate groups around the tavern, “I say if we have availability let them stay. They seem harmless so long as we don’t mess with them, which we’d never do.”

“Plus I can always stay awake to keep an eye on them.” Vendetta tapped her nails against the table,

“You sure.”

“As if I’d let anything happen to any of you, you’re my family.”

You all smiled softly, and you noticed Judas’s eyes widen, “Zig! Get that out of your mouth this instant!” She shot up from her spot and over to the person in question. The three of you laughed fondly at the nonsense, meanwhile, Juniper saw the three brothers sit at her bar. She moved away from you to greet them, you immediately could tell she was taken with the second eldest brother.

He seemed to be an absolute lady killer.

Vendetta ruffled your hair before going back to stand at her place by the door to keep the peace. You headed up the stairs to the rafters to check on the extra rooms you had, “Excuse me?” You tensed visibly turning around to face the man in all green. His eyes were mesmerizing, a fierce jade green to contrast his cloak, “Do you happen to have two rooms available?” The man held up two fingers to clarify his request,

“Do you usually start introductions with a blatant request like that?”

He chuckled a smile spreading across his lips, “I’m Dream and you gorgeous?”

“(Y/n), it’s your lucky day I’m about to check and see if any are available. My tavern is a hot commodity tonight.”

“Well, I can see why,” he spoke and you raised an eyebrow and tilted your head to the side.

“Oh?”

“It has the hottest owner around. Word spreads fast.”

You couldn’t believe this man was making your cheeks burn, he chuckled softly taking a step towards your figure. “Oh really, word spreads that fast on the open sea, Captian?” It was his turn to turn light pink, but he covered it up quickly with a chuckle.

“Touché.”

“I’ll get on that room for you and your friend. Take a seat, for now, this part is for guests and staff only you know?”

“So I have you all to myself?” He cheekily mused, he stepped towards you and before you knew it you were pinned against a wall. His hand suddenly brushed against your cheek, it was cold in comparison to your warm cheek. You felt Dream’s thumb brush against your cheek slowly, “You know...being on the open sea alone does something to a person.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” You mused pushing your forehead back against Dream’s, “All alone with only your crew with you.” Taking his other hand within your own you slid it up to your hip, you saw his entire face turn red as he stared down at your chest. “You’re probably missing a little love in your life, aren’t you Dreamy?” He nodded dumbly, his eyes still not leaving your chest,

Perfect. You weren’t going to let some pirate boy get the better of you.

He let out a grunt of pain as you spun him around and pressed his head into the wall with your elbow, your other hand has his pinned behind his back. “This hallway is for staff and guests only,” You purred in his ear before letting him go and swinging your hips before heading up the stairs fully. From behind you, Dream’s face was a deep, dark red and he had to clear his throat. Dream wasn’t going to let you go after that, I mean look at you, tough and able to hold your own, it awakened something inside him.

After checking up on the rooms you headed back down into the main hall, three-room keys in your hand. Glancing over at the scene in front of you, you saw Juniper dancing in the middle of the tavern the flirtatious brother at her side. Judas was sitting beside Schatt and Quackity at the bar, Addie was tending to Technoblade and the blonde at their little table. Dream and Sapnap were whispering to one another in the corner but still seemed to be enjoying the show. Vendetta was smiling softly by the door, beside her were Luvena and Zig both playing various instruments. You noticed Eret was also amongst the crowd, she had a brilliant grin on his face, it was flushed pink with alcohol and you smiled to yourself.

It was peaceful, and for a moment you forget half the patrons were scoundrels or pirates.

That was until the man dancing with Juniper locked eyes with you, his eyes lit up and he spun Juniper off into Addie’s arms. She giggled snuggling into the mother sheep’s arms, you heard a distressed “Juni! I’m holding glasses!” Before your vision was overtaken by the handsome flirt.

“Hello love,” He hummed, “May I offer you a dance?”

You were about to refuse but you saw Yeti, who finally made her appearance as it was getting closer to Judas’s set, giving you a big thumbs up “I’d be honored.” You responded taking his hand within your own, he pulled you out onto the dance floor and you felt his other hand politely hover on the small of your back. He allowed you to lean into his touch as he began to elegantly spin you around the dance floor, you were almost embarrassed to say felt like a princess. “Maybe I could get your name?” You asked above the music, “Since it seems you’re my dance partner this evening?”

“Wilbur Soot my love.” He hummed proudly, “The first mate of the ship Odysseus at your service. Plus I play music on the side.”

“Well now you need to play for us,” Wilbur twirled you around in a circle,

“Maybe one day. If you give me your name?”

“(Y/n) (L/n).”

“Beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”

“I was right.” You commented biting the bottom of your lip trying not to smile,

“About what?”

“You.”

“Ah? Already talking about me I see? Is my manliness and gentlemanly qualities that renowned?”

“Not exactly.” He picked you up slightly and pulled you into a low dip, “I was right in thinking you a nothing but a flirty playboy.” Wilbur almost dropped you, you squawked grabbing onto his neck. He began to laugh as you clung to his chest,

“Alright love. You caught me red-handed.”

Wilbur set you on your feet hands on your lower back, you were pulled close to his chest. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“I get them for free hon. I own the place.”

“Oh...oh.” He paled a little, “I didn’t fuck up our chances of getting a room did I?”

“Nah lucky for you and your brothers, I have you covered, same with your buddies over there.” You motioned to Dream and Quackity’s friend, Wilbur’s face paled as he felt the chilled room key get placed in his palm. “What’s your little brother’s name?”

“Tommy.”

“Tell them both we serve breakfast free from 7 am to 10 am.” He nodded as you walked past, Wilbur meanwhile turned to look at Technoblade. It seemed he had his red eyes on the couple the entire time they were dancing. He held up a room key, it was labeled 205; Technoblade nodded his head before leaning back and talking to Addie once more. “Dream!” You called throwing a hand up into the air, instead of Dream, Sapnap looked up he nudged Dream with his elbow. The man was now wearing his mask, but at least you could tell he was looking at you,

“Well hello, darlin’ you must be (Y/n). Name's Sapnap. Dream told me about you, so you have good news for us I hope?”

“Pleasure, I'm sure he told you all about me,” He nodded, his eyes taking in your body especially your ass. “Got you both a room key, your neighbors. Across from the other crew of pirates. Just don’t fight and we won’t have any problems.”

“You mean those jackasses are staying?” Sapnap complained loudly, looking over your shoulder at the other crew members.

“You both didn’t think you were the only patrons, did you? This is a business after all.” You, tossed the keys their way, Dream caught it with ease and Sapnap fumbled it only a little bit. After they were in their hands, you waved them off with a flutter of your palm you turned around to go speak with Judas about her set but before you could take a step you saw Schlatt stumbling up from his seat. “Ah shit,” You knew what was about to happen, you weren’t paying attention to the ram hybrid so who knew how many drinks in he was. You felt responsible, for a while you and Judas had been trying to help Schlatt with his addiction. You couldn’t help but wonder what exactly set him off for him to get this drunk, Quackity caught him in his arms with a grumble. The man was a drunken mess, and as you approached you could hear his slurred speech and could practically smell the alcohol on his breath. “Schlatt,” You spoke carefully and as soon as you got close Schlatt detached himself from Quackity and lunged at you. His head was buried in his chest, he almost purred like he was very happy to be there, you rolled your eyes and ran your fingers through his hair. You were mindful of his horns but he seemed pretty eager for you to touch them,

“(Y/n).” He whined although it was muffled against your ample chest, “Why do pirates have to fuck everything up?”

“What are you on about Schlatt? No one likes pirates.”

“They’re gonna take you away from me, sugar. You’re my safe space, this tavern is my safe space.” You sighed listening to his drunken ramblings, you grabbed his horns and pulled him away from your chest.

“This is my life Schlatt, I’m not going anywhere trust me. Plus my family is here, they need me. So try not to worry okay?” You slicked back the hair on his forehead before planting a fond kiss there, everyone in the tavern narrowed their eyes at the scene. Even your girls were green with envy, at the sight of their lovely boss kissing someone who wasn’t them. He leaned against your lips eyes fluttering closed,

“Well, well, well if it isn’t Captian Schlatt? Or ex-captain if I remember correctly.”

“What?”

You turned your head and felt Schlatt’s arms wrap around your waist and held you close to his chest. The touch was protective and you felt your heart skip a beat, why was he protecting you, and why did you actually feel protected?

“Has the drinking finally caught up to you? Or was it the fact that you lost your so-”

Was that Dream's voice?

“Shut the fuck up.” He snarled and you were shoved behind him into Quackity’s arms, you felt less protected. “I’m not that person anymore and you fucking know that,” Vendetta came to stand beside the both of you a hand was placed on your shoulder protectively. You knew she was desperately wanted to step in and you held up a hand to stop her.

“This isn’t good…” Quackity murmured, “They’re going to fight. Schlatt’s going to get himself fucking killed.”

“Calm yourself. We won’t let it get that far.” Ven grumbled eyeing you waiting for your signal. But you were lost in the conversation or argument, the two were having, you couldn’t believe Schlatt was a pirate. He was so...he just didn’t...he was a drunk okay? That didn’t exactly shout feared pirate to you!

“Oh, are you sure? I remember that look, that’s the look you’d get before you stomped someone’s lights out. No wonder your son disappeared under mysterious circumstances-” Dream was shoved against one of the poles holding up the building. He grunted and Schlatt’s arm was pulled back ready to punch, but his arm was stopped by smaller hands,

“Pardon me Mr. Schlatt but you know how we feel about fighting in our tavern.” Addie bubbled, she had a smile on her face but it wasn’t kind, it was full of warning.

“Get the fuck off me, sheepie. This doesn’t fucking concern you.” Schlatt shoved her away and as soon as his skin made contact with her body he made a sound of distress.

“(Y/n)...” Addie murmured quietly, your father’s dagger was embedded in Schlatt’s arm,

“Fucking hell you bitch!” He snarled baring his teeth, you glared at him twisting the dagger he yelled in agony.

“Touch one of my girls again and next time this dagger is going right into your back.” You ripped the dagger out, splattering the floor with blood. He grabbed his arm tightly and looked at you with slight betrayal in his yellow eyes. “I mean it Schlatt, Quackity take him home.” The man nodded looking at you longingly, he muttered a quiet ‘Sorry’ before escorting him out of your tavern. “You,” You glared harshly over at Dream, “Go to your room.”

“You’re not my mother.”

“Then find another play to stay.” You spat, he turned away and you looked over at Addie, “Are you alright?” Your voice turned tender as you cupped her cheeks. She nuzzled against your palms and nodded her head,

“I’m fine. You didn’t need to-”

“Yes, I did. No one messes with you. With any of you on my watch.”

The sheep hybrid made a little sound as her bottom lip trembled, she wrapped you in a tight hug which you accepted without hesitance. Judas walked over next and wrapped you both in her arms, pretty soon you were surrounded by your girls and Zig.

All of them had the same mindset: comforting both you and Addie.

It was good to be loved.

Wilbur watched the scene curiously and glanced over at Technoblade who stood up from his chair.

“I think that’s our cue to leave for the night.” He looked over at his first mate, Wilbur nodded in agreement grabbing his guitar from the chair beside Technoblade.

“They...Techno were they talking about Tubbo.” Tommy whispered to his brother, his brow furrowing in concern as they all climbed the steps up to their room, “You don’t think-”

“It just might be Tommy.” Technoblade tilted his head to the side, “Guess that’ll be something we ask him when we get back to the ship tomorrow.”

“Well, this trip is going to be way more fun than I thought.” Wilbur snickered lighting a cigarette, taking a long drag, before letting the smoke curl out of his mouth and up into the rafters. ~~~

Tag List: @v01dw4lk3rz, @jam-bombs, @abovenyx, @glitterydigitalart, @phoenixaesthetic19, @luluwinchester, @boiled-onionrings, @pastelmoonwitche, @roxy3457, @alovestruck-fool, @victory-is-here, @mack4676, @fiorenc, @theoneandonlyyeti, @bloodrose0723, @sandyy-woo,

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book-of-baba-fett · 3 years

Text

Passing Time - Hunter x Fem!Reader

In between jobs on Ord Mantell, you meet a mysterious man named Hunter who’s more than willing to help you kill some time.

AO3 link

Warnings: 18+ SMUT, bar hookup, oral sex (fem receiving), thigh riding, vaginal and anal fingering, light degradation, light spitting, light biting

Notes: hit 99 followers on the same day as The Bad Batch finale so I thought of a little Hunter smut as a treat. This was my take on@delusionsxfgrandeur ‘s Redefining smut challenge!

Word Count: 2.2k

Cid’s bar is as seedy as ever, with grime covering every surface including the glass you’re drinking from. You examine the glass, twirl around the brown liquor, then pour it down your throat figuring the alcohol must work as a disinfectant. You just finished a drop off for Cid and are hanging tight while your astromech works on some maintenance for your ship. The droid was going to comm you once everything was flight ready for your next job, but for now you’re trying to to find the best way to way to kill time. And the ache in between your legs reminds you that you can’t even remember the last time you had a good fuck.

Scanning the room, you realize there’s not much to work with. Just a weequay and an ithorian, both obviously intoxicated as they argue over a game in the corner. Otherwise the place is empty, except for a man sitting on the other edge of the bar. By the Republic issue armor he wore, you could assume he was a clone but he was unlike any clone you had seen before. There were some basic facial similarities, but he wasn’t identical to is countless counterparts. He had long dark hair, that curled to his neckline, kept away from his face by a red bandana. What captures your eyes is the skull tattoo covering half his face; you can’t help but lick your lips when you wonder how far it goes down his body.

“Hey Cid,” you wave down the Trandoshan. “Another round for me, and a drink for the man down the end of the bar too.”

“Huh, Dark and Broody?” Cid questions you, a confused and judgmental look on her face. “Sheesh, kid, I guess everyone has their own type but fine.”

Cid hands the drink to the man, who looks around the bar surprised until his eyes found you. He cocks a brow, and he lifts the drink up to you. You mirror his movements and you each take a sip at the same time. He slowly rises from the seat and stalks his way towards you.

“So you must be Dark and Broody?” You extend your hand to him. The man let’s our a soft chuckle.

“Did Cid tell you to say that?” His low and husky voice asks before he properly introduces himself “It’s Hunter, and I must say you don’t seem like Cid’s usual clientele.”

“Well, I’ll take that as a compliment.” You smirk at him. He must be another bounty hunter under Cid’s employment, you think as you notice how armed he is. He leans on the counter next to you, and you don’t fail to notice the way his eyes drift up and down your body. If he’s in your line of work, maybe he’s in the same need for some relief as you are. You shift in your seat, painfully aware of your growing arousal as you and Hunter make small talk. You had your fair share of lovers, but there was something about his magnetic ruggedness that intrigued you. That and the fact that he seems reluctant to give you any information about himself, but that wasn’t too uncommon in your line of work. But you don’t need his life story, you just need him to satisfy your itch.

“So how’s the men’s room here?” You ask.

“I’m sorry, what?” Ahh, it seems you’ve broken his tough guy facade to earn a flustered look on his face.

“The men’s room,” you repeat. “The last time I was here the women’s door wasn’t working properly and when you closed it you were locked in or you had to keep the door open. And I’m really looking for some privacy and no interruptions, so I’m curious if the men’s room will work.”

You down the rest of your drink, licking your lips as you finish, carefully keeping eye contact with him as you do. You watch his face process your words, his pupils expanding in his dark eyes and the corner of his lips on his tattooed side rises as he realizes your meaning.

“I think it’ll do just fine, I can show you the way?”

“What a gentleman,” you tease, taking his hand.

***

Your hands are on each other the second the door closes behind you. His grip on your plush ass, pulling you tighter to him. Yours find their way through his curls, tugging his hair as his mouth meets yours in a needy kiss. His large hands travel up your curves, until they reach your head and cup your face as he pulls back from the kiss.

“Such a dirty little thing aren’t you?” He rasps out. “Going into a filthy bar bathroom with a man you don’t even know?”

“What can I say? I like things a little messy.” You glance at him through heavy lashes as you grind against his codpiece.

“Open your mouth.” He orders, the deep tone in his voice going straight to your core, where you already feel your arousal dripping from you. You follow his command, just for him to spit in your eagerly awaiting hole. He groans as you close your mouth and swallow it. You bring your lips back to his as you make out with him again.

One of his hands leaves your face so it can trail down your waist and under your top, roughly groping your breast. You let out a soft moan into his mouth as his thumb flicks over your nipple. You feel him smirk against you, as he adjusts his ministrations so he’s lightly pinching your pebbled nipple. Your head involuntarily tilts back at the please and his mouth connects with your now open neck, his teeth nipping at your sensitive skin.

You stumble backwards under his exploring hands, your back hitting the bathroom door behind you. Hunter uses this to his advantage, and grabs hold of your hip with one hand while the other continues its squeezing of your breast. He brings a leg in between yours and presses it against the apex of your thighs. You cry out as you finally have some friction against your aching core. You instinctively grind on his thigh; the crease of his armor and the seam on your pants combining to rub against your clit in the most addicting way that you can’t stop yourself. Your hands reach to his shoulders as you balance yourself against him.

Hunter watches, eyes blown out in lust, as you use him to chase your own needs. The hand on your hip assists your movements, making you gyrate faster and faster into the man. Moans are rolling off your lips, and your head snaps back against the wall as you feel the tightening coil of an approaching orgasm in your stomach.

Hunter bends down to nibble at your earlobe, his warm breath panting against your skin as he whispers, “Such a sexy thing, riding my thigh to get yourself off. You’re almost there, aren’t you? Dirty little slut. “

You whimper against him, your eyes shutting so you can focus on your impending climax. A harsher bite on your neck makes you yelp, and your eyes snap open to see Hunter staring at you.

“I asked you a question, be a good girl and answer me."

Your mind stutters for a moment before his harsh gaze reminds you of what he asked you. “Yes... I’m so close!” You gasp out at him, as you continue humping his leg. He smirks as his smoky eyes stay locked your face, watching every reaction as you build to your peak.

“Go on them, cum for me.” You cry out on his order, and his mouth clamps down on yours so he can muffle the sound to avoid being discovered by the few patrons in the bar. Your orgasm rolls through your body, your hips unrelenting in their thrusting on Hunter’s thigh as you ride out the waves of bliss. Once your movement slows, Hunter pulls back from kissing you to examine you in your post ecstatic state. Chest heaving, cheeks flushed and eyes drooping; you’re the sexiest thing he’s seen in a long time. And he wants to make you do it again.

He removes his gloves as he shifts his thigh out from under you, making you slump against the wall. You sigh, feeling him drag a hand over your covered center. He groans, feeling the wetness seeping through your pants from your previous orgasm. His fingers fumble with your buttons, then he roughly pulls the pants down and over your ankles. He presses his face against your panty covered mound, inhaling deeply as he’s intoxicated by your arousal. Looking back up at you, he licks a long strip over your panties, circling around your hidden clit. You moan from the overstimulation as you grip the door handle behind you, your legs still feeling like jelly and struggling to hold you up.

Sensing your predicament, Hunter slides your panties down your legs and removes them, tossing them in the pile with your pants. He then props one of your legs over his shoulder and presses a hand against your abdomen to hold you upright.

His warm breath wafts against your sensitive skin as he separates your folds with two thick fingers. His tongue slowly peaks out, teasing your swollen clit with delicate flicks. You groan as you feel the warm wetness of him lapping up the release of your previous orgasm. Once he’s sure you’re past the point of overstimulation and ready to go again, he attacks with more fervor.

Your head snaps to the wall again as he starts devouring you with a renewed intensity, his lips closing around your clit as his tongue rapidly circles and flicks it. He switches up the rapid movements with broad, strong strokes against your pussy, making your hips arch into his face to push more pressure from him. He hums into you as you moan above him, the vibrations adding to the euphoric sensation of his tongue against you. He’s a quick study to your body, following any hitch of your breath or moan to follow what you like and return to those sweet spots over and over again as he enjoys you.

You feel a prodding at your entrance as he pokes one large finger into you, your hips keening against him as you allow him to push deeper into you. With a gasp, you feel him add a second finger into your tingling pussy. He groans, watching your cunt grip his fingers as he pushes them in and out of you.

“So wet for me, mesh’la.” He growls dipping his head back to lap at your clit while he fingers you. Matching the pace of his hand and mouth, you feel the tension of another orgasm building up. His fingers crook inside you, pressing against that hard to reach spongy spot inside you.

“Yes, right there!” You cry out, begging him not to stop. He focuses on hitting that spot with every thrust of his hand. He brings his other hand around to your ass, squeezing your cheek and bringing you closer to him to ravage. Your breath leaves your body in wanton moans as he brings you closer and closer to the edge again. The hand on your ass slides inward, until you feel a single finger circling around your other entrance.

“Hunter!” You yelp as the finger pokes in, teasing along your sensitive entrance. Your head flops down so you meet his eyes, a devilish, lustful darkness taking over them as he continues eating you out while fingering both of your holes. His pace in in your cunt increases, finger bending and stroking you just where you need him as he wrenches your orgasm out of you.

Toes curling, head snapping back, and eyes rolling into your head: you cry out. Your body tenses, your legs quake and you would fall over if it were not for him holding you up. Your pussy pulses as you release, the waves of ecstasy overpowering your body. Hunter works you through your release, removing the hand from your ass to keep you steady. He softly laps at your folds and slows the push of his fingers in you until he feels your walls stop pulsing then he removes them.

He rises off his knees to kiss you, his mouth glistening with a mixture of your release and his own spit. You lean into the kiss, one much softer than the ones that started you escapades. You curse to yourself when you notice your comm going off.

“That important?” Hunter grumbles against your skin, his lips dragging along your cheek.

You groan, realizing it’s your droid letting you know your ship is ready to go. “Sadly, it is.” You had wasted to much time before starting your next job. You look at him with apologetic eyes, your previous experiences with men leading you to think he might be angry about your lack of reciprocation. To your surprise, he grins and holds up his hands as he steps away.

“No worries, I get it. Duty calls.” He hands you your pants from off the ground, you mumble your thanks, looking around for your underwear when you realize he’s twirling them in his fingers. He smirks at you before he sniffs them and places them in a compartment on his belt. “Hey, if you want these back you’ll just have to find me next time you’re back on Ord Mantell.”

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loveaffaire · 3 years

Text

Seasons

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings/tags: a bit of angst, fluff, cheating (not by Peter/reader), Pete being a hopeless romantic as always

Word Count: 1.3k, I swear these blurb requests are turning into full one shots because I love Peter being completely whipped by the reader :(

A/N: @spiderholland101 I’ll be honest, I’ve never heard any of those songs so I picked a bunch of lyrics and built a story around it, just 1.3k words of Peter being desperately in love with the reader! Enjoy <3

🤍JOIN MY SLEEPOVER🤍

Summer - Heaven help a fool who falls in love

Peter tried not to stare at you but it was hard when you were sitting two seats away from him in chemistry class. Your skin looked as soft as cotton, lips plump and covered in strawberry chapstick, hair softly shining in the sunlight coming through the window.

His heart would beat a little faster every time you’d laugh, his breath would hitch each time you’d run to him in a crowded room, a smile would find its way on his lips the second his phone would light up with a text message from you.

It’s gonna get messy so don’t fall in love with your best friend, you fool, he’d tell himself.

❥ ‑‑‑‑

Autumn - You've been on my mind girl like a drug

Peter stood still in the middle of the school entrance as he watched you kiss Harry, his hands in your hands, a smile on your lips. It was like getting shot in the head and no, he wasn’t exaggerating, that is exactly how it felt to see your best friend that you are in love with be in love with someone else.

He pulled himself out of his daydream of repeatedly punching Harry in the face and rushed towards you. You pulled away from your boyfriend as soon as you heard footsteps approaching you, a smile settled on your lips when you saw Peter.

“Ready to go?” Peter asked, completely ignoring Harry and you nodded. To his dismay, Harry didn’t let go of your hand without giving you a very steamy kiss right in front of him.

You made small talk on the way to his house and Peter tried to focus on anything other than the kiss you and Harry shared just a few minutes ago. And when you sat on his bed, eyebrows frowned in concentration over chemistry, Peter’s eyebrows were frowned for a whole other reason. Thoughts of you getting too busy in your love life and forgetting him creeped up on his mind and you noticed.

“What’s wrong, Pete?”

“Uh… can’t understand this question”

“You weren’t even looking at the question, you were looking at me” your voice low as you scanned his face, “did I do something?”

Peter’s eyes widened, “no, y-you didn’t do anything, nothing”

“Okay so what is it?”

Peter sighed, biting on his lip because he was nervous and too afraid to say something wrong but he decided to be honest, “just scared you’ll get too busy with Harry and stop hanging out with me, it’s just a thought”

You were taken by surprise by this but soon, the sound of your soft laughter filled the room, “forget about you? We’ve been friends since forever, no boy is ever going to come between us Peter”

Peter’s eyes glimmered at your words, his cheeks turning rosy as he processed your words.

“Anyway, I’m too scared that you’ll forget about me because I saw you hanging out with all those smart science kids earlier today” you teased, your forefinger wiggling in his face as he shook his head, smiling.

How can I forget about you when you’ve been on my mind like a drug, he thought to himself.

❥ ‑‑‑‑

Winter - I wonder what it's like to be loved by you

The cold came and the days turned ugly, one text message to Peter and he was running to your house in the middle of the night.

You saw Peter through your window and opened the door, running into his arms. The impact was so hard that he almost fell back as your hands clutched on his jacket.

“He cheated on me” you cried, voice strained from the previous screaming match with Harry over call.

Peter held you close, walking back inside your house and closing the door behind. As soon as he let go of you, you fell down to your knees and he got down right in front of you as he wiped your tears with his sleeves.

“He doesn’t deserve you, Y/N” he said sincerely. His hands holding the back of your head to make you look at him and he almost kissed you that night. But he didn’t because what if you push him away, one heartbreak was enough for tonight anyway.

As he watched you weep on his shoulder for a boy who clearly didn’t deserve you, he wondered how it felt to be loved by you and if he’ll ever get to be loved by you at all.

❥ ‑‑‑‑

Spring - Wouldn't it be nice to live inside a world that isn't black and white

The colours were a bit brighter than before, the leaves and the flowers blooming again in the soft spring wind. Just like them, you were blooming too. You were the old Y/N again, the same old Y/N who was there before Harry came along and ruined it.

The glow in your eyes was visible, your smile felt more real now and you felt more comfortable in your skin than you did 2 months ago. Peter even helped you pack a box of all the things that your ex-boyfriend left at your place and you later sold those things at a thrift store.

Peter started seeing more of you, he would either be at your place after school or you’d be at his and sometimes, you’d go to the ice cream place near his place on a hot day.

As he watched you munch on your ice cream cone, the vanilla on your lip looked a bit more appetising then it did when it was on the cone and he almost leaned in to have a taste.

“Is there something on my face”

“No”

“Why are you staring then?” you smiled and raised your eyebrows at him.

“Oh, shut up” he rolled his eyes, “come on, let me walk you home before it gets dark”

With you walking by his side and the way your knuckles gently brushed against his made him realise how much brighter his world looked now. How wonderful it was to live in a world which wasn’t black and white anymore and it was all because of you.

❥ ‑‑‑‑

Summer - Honey I love you

The sun was setting, both of you returning from the summer fair and he finally gained the courage to hold your hand on the way back home. The hot weather was making your palm sweaty but Peter couldn’t care less. You were literally here, holding his hand in yours and he didn’t want to let go.

“Peter”

“Yes?”

“Will you say it?”

Peter frowned in confusion, “say what?”

“You know what” you bit your lips, a bit of sadness in your eyes.

“I- I don’t know what you’re talking about” Peter stuttered.

Peter was clueless. For a straight A grade student, he was pretty dumb when it came to love and you.

“So you will just never tell me that you are in love with me?”

Peter halted in his step and that halted you in yours. His hand slightly loosened its hold on yours in horror but you were quick to tighten your hold on his hand, even tugging him closer to yourself so you both were face to face.

“You know?” He finally spoke up, voice in a whisper and mouth agape in shock.

“It’s hard to miss when you’re right there staring at me with your big brown doe eyes” you softly giggled, feeling a bit shy now, “and how you get flustered when I compliment you, how you always have my back and how you always pick me up, it’s obvious that it’s more than just… friendship”

Yes, you knew. You have been waiting for him to say something, anything at all to show you that he loved you but as time passed and still no word from Peter, you finally took matters in your own hands.

Peter was speechless and you have had enough, you sighed and let go of his hand. Peter almost collapsed when you placed your hands on either side of his face and pulled him in.

You filled the gap between you both as you pressed a soft peck to his lips and his eyes fluttered like butterfly wings, savouring in the feeling of the airy kiss. Your lips felt like a light feather, barely there but just enough to make him feel lightheaded for a second.

You pulled away quickly but then pressed your forehead to his and closed your eyes tightly, “honey, I love you”

You said it like a promise, your chest felt a little lighter when the words were finally out and Peter’s heart started racing in his chest again. When he finally processed what had happened, he didn’t waste another moment as he pulled you back in for a kiss.

“I love you” he whispered, words muffled with his lips never leaving yours, “I love you, Y/N”

He repeated the words multiple times, telling you ‘I love you’ for every single time he couldn’t in the past and your eyes watered at the intensity of emotions soaring in your chest.

As he stood there kissing you, his mind went back to last winter and how he wondered how it would feel to be loved by you but now he didn’t have to wonder anymore. He knew how it felt to be loved by you and it felt like heaven.

Anyway, hopeless romantic Peter, my beloved🥰

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wazzupmrstark · 3 years

Text

instead of you [part eighteen]

pairing: [best friend’s brother] tom holland x college!reader

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either.

warnings: swearing, mentions of +sex

word count: 2k

series masterlist

“Sam and I will take the bunk beds.”

The room was a decent size. It was definitely bigger than Sam’s dad had made it sound. A large window on the back wall flooded the space with natural light and offered a view of the city below. By the door was a small fridge and a countertop with a sink and a couple of burners built in so that guests could cook their own meals. There was a queen sized bed jutting out from the western-facing wall and built into the adjacent wall were two twin-sized bunks, one on top of the other, making the room feel... cozy.

Harry and Tom traded looks with each other.

“Kidding.”

The boys visibly relaxed and chuckled awkwardly.

“If I ever have to share a bed with Tom again it’ll be too soon,” Harry sighed.

“Is that any way to treat your big brother?” Tom scoffed.

“I’m taller than you.”

“For now.”

“The fuck’s that supposed to mean? You’re twenty-five, you’re done growing.”

Tom shrugged. “Yeah, but I could always make you shorter.”

“Oh, what are you going to do, cut my legs off?” Harry challenged.

“I never said that.”

“Jesus Christ guys,” Sam said, finally cutting in. “Can we not threaten each other until we’ve had at least a few hours of sleep?”

“Whatever,” his twin grumbled, kicking off his shoes by the door.

Tom slung his backpack onto the top bunk and pulled his sweatshirt off over his head, exposing a strip of his stomach in the process. You looked away instinctively, hoping that you hadn’t drawn any attention to yourself while doing so.

“You always get the top bunk,” Harry whined.

“Yeah, because I’m older.”

“That’s not fair!”

“My brothers are actually ten years old,” Sam explained to you, raising his voice so that you could hear him over the bickering.

“No, I think ten-year-olds know how to take turns,” you said dismissively, not missing the glares from the other two Hollands.

“You’re right,” Sam agreed. He pushed his hair out of his eyes and sighed. “Reminds me of the family vacations we used to take. The six of us used to share one hotel room when we traveled.”

“Four boys... I don’t know how your mom did it.”

“None of us do.”

“I thought we were going to sleep,” Harry muttered from where he was already laying down on the bottom bunk, clearly irritated.

“Give us a minute to settle in, dude,” Sam shot back before dropping into a whisper. “It’s going to be a long week.”

You shook your head, putting your hands on his shoulders. “Everyone’s just cranky because they’re tired,” you reasoned. “We’ll get some sleep and then grab some food and then maybe they’ll be in a better mood.”

“You don’t know them like I do,” Sam warned.

“That’s true, but won’t they tone it down since I’m here?”

Sam snorted. “Wishful thinking.”

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever, I’m going to hop in the shower. I feel gross after being on a plane for so long.”

“I’ll go after you,” Sam replied with a nod. “Let me know if you need anything.”

You thanked him with a kiss under the watchful eyes of his brothers who both groaned in protest.

“Oh, fuck off,” Sam growled against your lips.

“By the way, sharing a bed doesn’t mean you get to mess around because I don’t want to hear that shit.”

“Harry!” Sam and Tom shouted, Tom going as far as throwing a pillow at his younger brother from the top bunk.

“Just being honest! We heard you going at it like rabbits when you had your own room, and I didn’t say anything about it then-”

“Harry.” To your surprise, it was Tom who cut him off, raising another pillow in warning. Thankfully, Harry took the hint that time and shut up, crossing his arms over his chest in annoyance.

You smiled to yourself with the knowledge that your little Easy A stunt had worked, and looked over to see that Sam was wearing a matching smirk. He winked at you before turning to glare at his brothers.

“On that note, I’m going to shower,” you said, mostly to Sam, and made your way over to where you had dropped your suitcase by the door.

You gathered a set of pajamas to change into and then wandered into the bathroom, quietly closing the door behind you. It was one of those rolling doors so you had to be extra careful not to knock it off its hinges or the track and cause even more noise than necessary. You set your change of clothes on the counter next to the sink and began to undress, leaving your worn clothes on the floor.

The shower was kept in a room separate from the room with the sink and vanity, something you had read was common for Japanese washrooms. Inside the second room was a bathtub with a complicated looking panel next to it. With a closer inspection you determined it was used to fill the bath with water and customize the temperature. The showerhead was secured to the wall just to the side of the tub which meant you would have to hold it while you showered, but you didn’t mind. You were used to holding the showerhead for... other reasons.

Your shower was quick. You didn’t want to take too long when you knew other people were waiting for it. You were drained too. Even as you dried yourself off with a towel you could feel your arms start to get heavier.

You wrapped your hair in your towel and put on your pajamas shortly after, trying not to cringe at the way the fabric clung to your still-damp body. Usually you wouldn’t get dressed in the bathroom right after taking a shower because it was always so humid and sticky, you’d go out in the bedroom to do it, but as Sam’s girlfriend the latter wasn’t an option. So you dealt with the discomfort and ventured back into the main room.

It was dark now. Someone, you assumed Sam, had pulled the blackout curtains shut so that the daylight could no longer stream through the window. Harry was already fast asleep, but Tom and Sam were still awake, scrolling through their phones on their respective sides of the room.

Sam was perched on top of your bed, resting comfortably. He wasn’t underneath the covers, probably because he knew you didn’t like to share a bed with someone who hadn’t showered.

He smiled when he saw you and pushed himself up onto his elbows.

“Shower’s all yours,” you said.

“Thanks.”

You watched him rifle through his suitcase for pajamas and then eventually disappear into the bathroom before finally flinging yourself onto the bed. You still needed to take your hair out of the towel and brush your teeth, but you took a moment to just. Lay there.

Tom didn’t acknowledge you, hadn’t so much as looked at you since you came out of the bathroom, but you still found yourself looking over to him.

At the airport he had seemed at least a little concerned that he would have to share a room with you. Even in the cab to the hotel he kept sneaking glances at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention. But now he looked completely relaxed and you were second guessing yourself. Maybe you’d been projecting. Maybe he hadn’t been anxious at all.

You, on the other hand, felt like you hadn’t been able to exhale since Dom had announced that you’d be sharing a room with Sam’s brothers.

It had dawned on you as soon as you stepped into the hotel room that you’d never be able to let your guard down. Before this point you had at least been able to take breaks, retreat to your hotel room with Sam and be yourselves without worrying that one of his family members was around. You hadn’t needed to keep up the act 24/7, but now you had no other choice. It was only for a week, but you knew it was going to be exhausting. You weren’t even sure that your current performance was believable, and that was without all of the more intimate interactions couples had in private. The good night kisses, the cuddling in bed together, falling asleep in each other's arms, the good morning kisses, all things you’d have to take into consideration. Most couples you knew moved in harmony, like they were one person, half of a whole. You and Sam were more like the hands on a clock. You were always moving in the same direction, and once in a while you’d overlap, but more often than not you were facing each other on completely opposite sides of the clock. It was what made you such good friends. Best friends. But what would make you terrible lovers.

To be fair, a lot of people misunderstood your dynamic, which you had been using to your advantage. They assumed that since you were always together you were basically the same person- and they weren’t necessarily wrong. You and Sam spent a majority of your time together. You knew each other well enough to finish each other’s sentences, to voice aloud what the other was thinking before they even said it.

The vibration of your phone next to you disrupted your train of thought. It was a text from Sam.

Can you come here rq? I need help lol.

Confused, you pushed back the covers and stood up. You dropped your phone back on the bed and walked over to the bathroom, keenly aware of the way Tom stiffened in his bed.

You rolled back the door and found Sam standing in his boxers next to the tub.

“What is it?” you asked, shutting the door behind you.

“How did you figure out the shower? I can’t get the water to be hot.”

“This is what you called me in here for?” you said, exasperation dripping from your voice.

“Yes! I don’t want to take a cold shower.” He said it like it should’ve been obvious.

“Did you try messing with the knobs? That’s how I figured it out.”

Sam’s cheeks turned a faint shade of pink as he pursed his lips, thinking about how to answer.

“Not all of them,” he admitted.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Sorry?”

“It’s the one on the left, dumbass,” you said and twisted the knob for him.

“Thanks,” he mumbled sheepishly. “I just didn’t want to fuck up the shower or anything.”

Men, you thought to yourself shaking your head.

“I’m going to bed,” you told him. “Before your brothers think I’m in here giving you head or something.”

“Let them think what they want,” he said, shrugging it off.

“I want to preserve what little amount of respect they have for me, thanks.”

Sam just chuckled and thanked you again as you let yourself out into the room with the sink. While you were there you hung up your wet towel and brushed your teeth with your finger and the toothpaste the hotel provided. You were too lazy to go get your toothbrush out of your bag.

“That was fast.”

You jumped, hand racing to your heart when you realized it was just Tom. He was still in his bed, but had rolled onto one side so that he could talk to you.

“You scared the shit out of me!” you hissed.

“Sorry.” He didn’t sound very sorry. “What did my brother want?”

God damn it, Sam.

“Why do you ask?”

Tom shrugged. “Just wondering.”

“He needed help figuring out the shower,” you explained.

“Glad he has you for that.”

You narrowed your eyes at the boy in the top bunk. He was trying to get under your skin. Why?

The ball was in your court. You could be the bigger person and let it go, or-

“He has me for a lot of things.” You pushed your tongue against your cheek so that there was a visible outline and brought your fist up to your mouth, moving it back and forth subtly so that he’d get the idea without being too obscene. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?"

lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

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imagine-darksiders · 3 years

Text

A gentle touch.

[Strife/Reader]

Summary: Set three years after humanity is resurrected. Strife shows up unannounced in your bedroom in the middle of the night, which would have been rude enough without him getting blood all over your cream-coloured carpet.

Tags: Blood, injury, PTSD, knife, protective Strife, whump, hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, sharing a bed ;), bandages and cleaning wounds, how not to administer first aid.

-----

You have the apocalypse to thank for turning you into such a light-sleeper.

Even though the nights of sleeping with one eye open are far behind you and Earth is back on the road to a long and arduous recovery, you'll still jolt awake if your unconscious mind hears something scuttle beneath the floorboards of your freshly-restored home, and God forbid a tree branch should happen to scratch at the bedroom window...

Waking up with the feeling that your heart is three beats from bursting right out of your chest is exhausting, to say the least. And it isn't just you who suffers from the onset of hyper-vigilance.

It was a decidedly cruel consequence that the resurrected humans were able to recall their lives before the end of the world. Crueller still, they woke up to remember exactly how and where they eventually kicked the bucket, and of course, nobody knew that a significant chunk of time had passed at all since the end of the world and its rebirth.

They thought they were still in danger.

In one moment, all they knew was immense and excruciating pain, and then, in what seemed like the blink of an eye, they woke up again, screaming and writhing in the echoes of phantom pain that had occurred almost a century ago.

Three years down the line since ‘The Great Waking,’ and there isn’t a human alive who could claim that they’ve slept through an uninterrupted night.

------

The alarm clock on your bedside table has just ticked over to read '2:36am' when your eyes suddenly snap open and you fling yourself upright in bed, your spine ramrod straight and your ears ringing with a sharp, tinny note.

It isn’t a nightmare that wakes you. At least, not this time.

Worse.

It’s a sound.

An out-of-the-ordinary sound that isn't in keeping with the normal ambiance of your bedroom.

But where...?

....It's coming from your window.

Tired eyes swivel to the curtains whilst your hand immediately flies out to blindly fumble with the drawer of your bedside table. Once your fingers find the cold, metal handle, you rip it open and plunge your hand inside, rummaging around until you feel the reassuring grip of your most precious possession.

Your trusty bread knife. Serrated edge, nine inch blade, perfect for cutting slices of toast in the morning and for tearing through the toughened hide of a hungry demon.

Peace between the Universe’s species had been declared once humanity was fully introduced to the connected realms, a decision that suited a vast majority of Creation. Hell, however, had offered up a fair amount of opposition to the notion before eventually conceding and agreeing – albeit begrudgingly – to honour the peace treaty alongside angels, makers, undead and the rest.

Even demon-kind knew not to incur the wrath of humanity's strongest and most ferocious protectors, the Horsemen.

But... there are always exceptions to the rule. Some demons just... hadn't gotten the memo.

It wouldn’t be the first time one of them had tried to make an assassination attempt on humanity’s envoy.

Heart in your throat, you grasp the knife securely in your dominant hand and peer through the darkness towards the window.

Only a sliver of moonlight peeps through a tiny gap in the curtains. In another blink, the light suddenly disappears, and you know better than to assume that the moon has simply ducked behind a cloud.

Something is standing at your window, blocking out the light.

You think you might actually be sick when you hear the sound again, claws scraping on wood – a sound you know all too well – well enough to send your head spinning into a panic.

Swallowing back the nausea in your throat, you brace yourself, instincts flicking between running for the door and knowing never to turn your back on a demon.

Sadly, the decision is swiftly taken out of your hands. Through the darkness and the deafening roar of blood rushing through your ears, you can make out the distinct sound of your window sliding slowly open.

The knife is a comforting weight in your hand. But it’s less than useless if you don’t calm down and try to remember the lessons that Death has taught you. If the eldest Horseman were here, he’d probably have berated you seven ways to Sunday by now for freezing up and missing an opportunity to better prepare yourself for an attack.

A dark silhouette pushes the fluttering fabric of your curtains aside and pulls itself halfway into your bedroom.

Whatever it is, it’s big.

Breath catching in your throat, you clasp a handful of your duvet and get ready to fling it at the intruder as a distraction, hoping that it’ll be enough to buy you a precious few seconds to gain the upper hand. You've learned that humans are inherently weaker than demons, but if there’s one thing you’ve learned from Death, it’s that strength isn’t necessarily the deciding factor in any battle. You still have your wits. You only hope the demon has less.

Two luminous, golden eyes turn in your direction and you press yourself backwards into the headboard.

Several seconds drag by in perfect silence.

Then...

“Hey.”

And just like, that tension leaves your body like a balloon deflating of air and you heave the loudest sigh you can muster, dropping the bread knife into your lap.

“Damn it, Strife! You about gave me a heart attack!”

With a 'whump,' you flop back against your pillows and take a second to breathe whilst one of the Four Horsemen drags himself the rest of the way through your bedroom window.

Strife.

It's only Strife...

Whilst certainly a dangerous being in his own right, you know you have nothing to fear from the Horseman who had all but appointed himself as your friend three, long years ago, all in an attempt to irritate his brother, Death, of course.

At least, at first.

Death was the one who pulled you from the dying Earth and preserved your life-force as you journeyed together on a quest to resurrect humanity, but after he made the jump to introduce you to his 'little' siblings, it had been Strife who'd taken a particular shine to you, and it had everything to do with a compatible, if terrible sense of humour.

That first meeting sparked what was sure to be an interesting friendship between the pair of you.

-----

“So, my brother went and got himself a human, huh?” Strife had teased, pointedly ignoring the withering look he received from Death to add, “Gotta say, I'm impressed, Kid. Didn't think anyone would have the inclination to willingly travel with my brother. But then, I guess...” He trailed off and you could almost see the smirk growing under his mask. “Deathperate times and all that, huh?”

At once, his siblings all groaned out varying noises of disapproval. Fury, the loudest, cocked her hip and shot Strife a frosty glower. “You are singlehandedly ruining our reputation, brother."

“She's right, you know,” you spoke up, trying not to flinch when all eyes snapped onto you once more, “That pun was pretty deadful.”

The brief, startled second of silence was soon blasted apart when Strife threw his head back and barked out a triumphant laugh, while Death slowly turned to look at you, utterly betrayed.

“Ha!” Strife's eyes positively gleamed with mischief, “You're right, human. Guess I should'a considered the reapercussions of a joke like that, huh?”

“I ought to have known introducing you two would be a mistake,” the eldest Horseman grumbled, earning a sympathetic look from War.

“Sorry, Death,” you said with a perfectly straight face, “You want us to get out of your scythe so you don’t have to look at us anymore?”

Strife had howled.

Death, however, merely heaved a long-suffering sigh. Fury's eyes all but rolled into the back of her skull and War just stood there, struggling to keep his lips from twitching at their corners.

And you had looked around at all of them, a little proud and blissfully unaware of what you'd just unwittingly signed yourself up for.

You'd had Strife's attention from that day on.

-----

Shaking off the fond memory, you tiredly will your mind back to the matter at hand.

You reach across your bed and drop the knife back into the drawer before leaning down and skirting your fingers over the wall in search of a switch. The next moment, there's a 'click!' and the room is illuminated by clustered fairy lights that you've draped around your ceiling, forcing you to squint blearily against the intrusion of light as Strife hauls his leg into your room.

“Honestly. How many times have I told you to use the door?”

“S'locked,” he grunts.

You're in the midst of rubbing your eyes to try and stimulate a little life back into your bones, so you miss the way he stumbles a few steps away from the wall and presses a gauntleted hand to his abdomen.

“Yeah, it’s locked because it's-” You take a quick glance at the clock next to you. “-Two thirty in the morning! Strife, I’m supposed to be up at six to meet Ulthane! What do you need so badly that you'd-... Hey.. Are.. are you okay?”

At last taking a long, hard look, it suddenly occurs to you that the Horseman is... not entirely himself.

He's hunched over, his shoulders pulled in around his neck and his chest rising and falling in long, languid motions. The tattered cowl he wears around his neck hangs loose around his collarbones and it faces the very real threat of slipping off to the floor. At last, your eyes drop to the hand that's clamped over the left side of his abdomen and you blurt out a startled gasp.

In the paltry, pink glow of your fairy lights, you spot an unmistakably crimson liquid dribbling between his fingers, starkly contrasted against the steel-grey colour of his armour.

The next few seconds pass in a blur as you frantically begin kicking off your duvet and scramble out of bed, flying across the room to the Horseman's side.

“Strife! What'd you do!?”

“Oh, that's real sweet,” the Nephilim chuckles wryly whilst he collapses back against the wall and slides down it with a strained grunt, “Why're you – ung... assuming it's something I did?”

Without missing a beat, you snap, “This would hardly be the first time you got hurt because you're a wise-cracking jokester with a big mouth! Now tell me who you pissed off?!”

You drop onto your knees next to him and reach out, fingers hovering tentatively above his stomach. With your focus directed away from his helm, Strife doesn’t bother to hide the way his eyes dart from left to right before they settle back on the top of your head.

“Ah, it was... just some demon, caught me slackin', that's all,” he shrugs, letting you carefully grasp his wrist and lift it away from his torso.

At once, fresh blood gushes from a deep gouge cut into in the dark, leather under-skin he wears beneath his cuirass and you yelp, slapping a hand over your mouth in abject horror.

The sound draws Strife's gaze to you and once he spots the shocked despair on your face, he gives himself a mental kick.

He hadn't meant to... He... doesn't like it when you’re scared because of him.

"Hey, no, no – I'm okay!” he rushes to reassure you, “Don't worry about this. I've had worse!”

“That's not the point, Strife!” you argue, dropping his wrist and carding your hands through your hair, “You're hurt now! And I don't – there's so much blood, and you-” Cutting yourself off, you squeeze your eyes shut and inhale deeply through your nose, willing your pulse to ease so that you can rationally address this situation.

Another lesson Death had taught you - stay calm in a crisis. Panic kills.

Releasing a long, hard breath, you peel your eyes open again and nod, jaw set. “Okay. All right. I need to.. I need water. A-and I need to see the wound.”

The interrogation can come after you've dealt with... this.

“There's a bowl and flannel in my bathroom,” you announce, getting to your unsteady feet and gesturing towards Strife's cuirass, “Think you can get that off so I can have a look?”

Huffing out a breath of laughter, the Horseman winks at you suggestively and drawls, “An' here I was doin' things the hard way to get your attention. You know, you didn't have to wait till I got myself gutted before you asked me to take my armour off in your chambers.”

A wise-cracking flirt with a big mouth.

As exasperating as he is though, you don't mind it in the slightest.

This is your usual rapport, after all. A friendly back and forth interlaced with the occasional, flirtatious comment. At first, Strife had only initiated it because it drove an over-protective Death up the wall. The eldest Horseman had almost threatened to 'remove Strife's libido' until you'd up and flirted right back, distressing the old reaper even further.

It's funny. It's innocent. But right now, it's reassuring, if only somewhat, that Strife is behaving just like his shameless, old self.

Besides, you can give back as much as you get.

“Well, I had to wait for a good enough excuse,” you retort, “Couldn't come on too strong and risk scaring you off, now could I?”

In response, Strife just chuckles fondly and watches you turn and speed away to your ensuite, oblivious to the warm, soft glow radiating from his eyes.

In less than a minute, you're briskly striding back into the room, a dripping flannel in one hand and a bowl in the other, and he suddenly remembers that you'd asked him to remove his cuirass.

Mission failed.

But you don't even bat an eyelid to find it still in place, assuming that the Horseman can't get at the catches on the sides in his current state.

In one, smooth motion, you drop down beside him once more and set the cloth and bowl nearby. “Here, let me help..”

The Horseman's pulse sputters when your tiny fingers reach around his torso and fumble with the buckles and straps that keep his armour securely in place. It doesn't pass his notice that your hands are trembling.

“Hey,” he calls, catching your eye for a moment before you go right back to fiddling with the cuirass, “This is nothin’, you know that, right?”

You only press your lips together and hum, clearly skeptical.

You're working fast and in almost no time at all, the straps have been released and you carefully take the Nephilim's broad shoulder, giving it a tug, guiding him to lean away from the walls so that you can start to peel the bulky armour off.

“Nng, hang on,” he mutters.

Reluctantly, you sit back to let him tug his chest piece loose before he simply drops it onto the carpet next to his legs with a dull 'clang.'

Exposed to the soft glow of your lights, your eyes are instantly drawn to the gaping wound that stretches in a horizontal line across the left side of his abdomen. It seems that something really has tried - and nearly succeeded - to gut him. Several inches long and goodness knows how deep, even against the iron-grey colour of his skin, the gash is alarmingly obvious and the blood far, far too noticeable for your liking. It still comes as something of a shock to learn that the Horsemen, barring Death, can actually bleed.

Wordlessly, you pick up the flannel and wring it out into the bowl of water, wondering if he'll mind that you didn't wait for the tap to get warm before you soaked it. It shouldn't surprise you that the Horseman doesn't protest or even flinch when you gently press the wet cloth to the bloodied skin around his wound, nowhere near the gash itself, not until you've cleared away some of the mess around it and determined its real depth.

You don't notice that his eyelids flutter closed once you press the cloth to his skin, nor do you see when their golden light fluctuates in contentment as the fingertips of your other hand press gently to his stomach, the pressure barely enough for him to feel, but enough to keep you steady whilst you daub at his drying blood.

It takes a formidable effort to suppress the shudder that nearly races up his spine. This is the first time he's felt your skin against his without a single piece of armour standing between you.

Creator, you're so soft! Just like he always imagined you would be.

“Jeezus, Strife,” you whistle, abruptly snatching his focus away from the soothing strokes of your silky fingers,“You've made a real mess of yourself. Why on Earth didn't you just go straight to Death? I thought he was the best healer in your family.”

The warm skin underneath your fingertips jumps as the Horseman puffs out a quick laugh, gazing dopily at your temple whilst you wipe at the edges of his wound with small, careful touches.

“He is,” Strife readily agrees, “But the moody bastard wouldn't be nearly as gentle with me as you are.”

You blow an unimpressed huff from your nose and glance up at him in time to catch his lazy wink. “I can always press harder if you like?”

“Nah.” The Horseman settles himself more heavily against the wall, knocking his skull back against it and mumbling, “Just keep touchin' me all gentle like that. S'nice...”

Quite abruptly, the chatty Nephilim goes silent and the glow from his eyes that had illuminated your face only moments ago suddenly disappears.

“Strife?”

He doesn't respond.

“Hey, Cowboy! Don't you fall asleep on me, you hear?”

There's a long stretch of silence, then, “Won't,” he mumbles, cracking one eyelid open to peer down at you.

Harrumphing, you promptly turn back to the gash in his stomach and wipe the last of the dried blood off his skin, still far from clean, but at the very least, better than it had been.

“Right,” you declare, pulling away to stand up and drawing a decidedly petulant whine from the Horseman on your bedroom floor. “I'm gonna go get the first aid kit from downstairs.”

There’s a shift in his expression and something that hinges on alarm suddenly whistles through his blood.

“I won’t be long,” you promise, "Be right – Hey, woah! What're you doing!?”

Darting forwards, you hastily place your hands on each of Strife's broad shoulders, trying to push him back down as he grabs the window sill behind him and begins hauling himself up to his feet.

“What's it look like ‘m doing?” he answers gruffly, slouching forwards as if the weight of his own head is too much to keep aloft, “Comin’ with you”

Sputtering out a few, incredulous noises, you try to make him see sense. “I’ll bring the first aid kit to you! You need to rest! It's bad enough that you already climbed in through my second storey window!”

But Strife, stubborn as a mule and much, much stronger than you, isn't deterred by your protests. Grunting, he curls one arm over his stomach and takes a step forwards, ducking beneath your light fixture and standing to his full, imposing height.

Even with three years of companionship behind you, you’re still frequently taken aback at how effortlessly the Horseman can make you feel small and fragile when you stand close to him.

Knowing full well that you’ll never be able to force him down again, you allow your hands to slip from his shoulders and fall against your sides like lead weights. You aren’t sure why he’s suddenly so hellbent on following you, downstairs, of all places, but you don’t dwell on it, especially given that you’re far more preoccupied with the fresh blood that has already begun trickling out of his wound to replace the stains you’ve painstakingly cleaned away.

Puffing out your cheeks, you raise a hand and pinch the bridge of your nose. “Strife, please sit down?” You aren’t so proud that you won’t resort to begging, tired as you are and exasperated with his obstinate behaviour. “I’m worried about you...”

All at once, the Horseman stiffens. ‘Oh, now she’s fighting dirty,’ he muses to himself.

Gradually, you lift your eyes to meet his and try your very best to glare up at him, pinning him down with all the stern authority you can muster. For several, slow heartbeats, the Nephilim peers right back at you and you’re almost certain that you’ll lose this battle of wills, which is why it comes as such a shock when his fiery gaze falters, wavering slightly before it promptly drops to the floor near your feet.

It's... rare for Strife to be looked at by someone who isn't ashamed to show that they worry about him.

But the way you're looking at him now? Hell, the way you've been looking at him since he clambered through your bedroom window? You're practically broadcasting your concern.

Strife just... isn't used to seeing that. So he glances down instead, finding the fibres of your carpet particularly exhilarating tonight. Slowly, begrudgingly, he sinks down to sit on the edge of your bed, heavy enough that the frame creaks and groans under the weight of a fully grown Nephilim and he has to hold back a contented sigh at the softness beneath his legs.

From the corner of an eye, he can see that your jaw is hanging ajar and remains so until you give yourself a little shake and throw him a satisfied nod. “Thank you,” you huff before turning on your heel and striding purposefully from the room.

Strife listens raptly to your footsteps disappearing down the staircase, unaware that his hands have curled into tight fists around your duvet.

'It's fine,' he assuages the insistent voice at the back of his head, 'She's fine.'

He took care of the threat. That demon asshole isn't coming after his friend.

You’re only downstairs. He can already hear you pushing open the door to your little kitchen whilst the rest of his senses remain trained on the sounds and smells of the night.

It isn't as though something bad might happen just because his eyes aren't fixed upon you...

Frankly, he thinks he’s being more than generous to allow a full, Earth minute to pass as he taps his heel impatiently against the side of your bed.

Didn’t you say you’d be right back?

...

“Fuck it...”

-------

Perhaps, in hindsight, keeping your first aid kit on the top of the fridge hadn’t been one of your brightest ideas, given that you need a chair to reach it. Then again, securing immediate access to bandages and plasters hadn’t exactly been on the forefront of your mind when you were rebuilding your old home from the ruins it had been left in.

With a grunt, you drop your rickety kitchen chair next to the fridge and clamber up onto the seat. “I have got to find a better place for you,” you grumble at an apathetic first aid kit that sits gathering dust near the wall. Stretching your arm out, you manage to snag it by the handle and drag it towards you-

“The hell're you doing!?”

The violent jolt that shoots through you like lightening nearly sends you toppling off the chair. You let out a yelp, just barely catching yourself on the fridge with your free hand before you whip about to see none other than Strife silhouetted in the kitchen doorway.

“Wh- the hell are you doing!?” you retort, knitting your brows into a frown and clutching the first aid kit against your heaving chest, “Why aren’t you upstairs?”

The Horseman’s glowing eyes are fixed unsettlingly on the chair beneath your feet and rather than answer the question, he ducks under the doorframe and thunders towards you in a few, short strides, leaving you with no time to protest before he suddenly sweeps you up off the chair and into his arms, caging you against a solid chest.

At once, you begin to struggle. “Strife! Your wound! Put me down, you'll hurt yourself!”

But the Nephilim is hardly paying attention. His glare lingers on the flimsy, wooden chair legs for a moment before he flicks his gaze towards the large window above your sink, noting with no small degree of distaste that it isn't even shut.

It’s like you’re inviting danger in.

If you had any idea of the fate he and his siblings are currently trying to protect you from, you might just try a little harder to take better care of yourself.

“Hey!” you continue to protest against his hold but manage to refrain from jostling about too much, mindful of his injury. “For god's sake! What's gotten into you?!”

He offers little more than a noncommittal grunt in response and begins trailing back towards the staircase, casting brief glances at the french doors leading out onto your patio.

'Structural weakness,' he registers, 'Perfect point of entry for anything smaller than a Trauma...'

Shaking his head, he turns sideways to fit you through the kitchen door and takes the stairs up to your room.

After a second, he lowers his eyes to meet yours and finds himself meeting a highly unimpressed scowl. “What?” he asks, the very picture of innocence.

Raising your brows, you snap, “Don't you 'what' me! The hell is all this about? I told you to stay put!”

“You were takin' too long,” he shrugs.

“Too long!?” Indignant, you flick your wrist and rap the first aid kit against his collar bone, “I was gone a minute, max! If you were so worried about me taking too long to fix you up, then why are you moving around and making your injury worse!?”

The light of Strife's golden gaze dims and he turns his head away, staring up towards the top of the stairs and your bedroom door beyond. “S'not me m' worried about,” he mumbles.

It's such an about-face from his usual demeanour that you can do little but blink dumbly up at him and fall still against his chest, your mouth hanging agape.

In silence, the Horseman ducks through the door into your room and sidles over to the bed where, hesitantly, he lowers you down until you're sitting safely on the edge.

In the next moment however, just as Strife drops heavily onto the bed next to you, you slip away and settle on the floor instead, placing the first aid kit beside his boots and fumbling with the latches.

Despite blowing out a rough grumble of disapproval that sounds entirely too much like War for his liking, he lets you go.

Chewing on your lip, you stare at the contents for a moment before snatching up a pack of antiseptic wipes, tearing one out and bringing it up to his stomach.

“You want to tell me why you just exacerbated your injury to rescue me from my kitchen chair?” you ask him, adding as an afterthought, “This might sting a bit..”

When he doesn't reply, you glance up and quirk a brow at the underside of his chin, only to catch him peering back at you from behind heavy-lidded eyes. Then, with a weary sigh, he sags forwards and raises a hand to rub at the back of his neck, looking sheepish, of all things.

Unable to dispel your frown, you blindly begin brushing the wipe underneath his bleeding wound.

He doesn't even wince.

Strife tips his helm towards the bedroom window and slumps further backwards into your mattress, seeming so entirely out of place amidst the colourful duvet cover and frilly cushions.

“Okay,” he mutters, “I uh, I got a confession to make.”

Interest piqued, you make an acknowledging sound at the back of your throat and return your attention to his abdomen.

“Death didn't want us to tell you about this,” he continues quietly whilst you toss the now ruined wipe over your shoulder and pull out a fresh one, “And, to be honest, neither did I. We didn't want you to have to worry, y'know?”

You don't know. And you nearly ask him what you should be worrying about, but you soon let your mouth fall shut and settle for humming curiously instead, trusting that he'll tell you soon enough anyway.

There's a long pause, during which you find the courage to bring your fingers close to the edges of his wound and immediately have to withhold a gag when the motion sends another spout of blood oozing from the cut and dribbling down your wrist.

After a moment, Strife huffs and forges ahead, “Course, War and Fury did want to tell you-”

He's stalling, you realise belatedly.

“-War thinks you have every right to know. And Fury said there's nothin' for you to worry about anyway, cause we've got your back.”

“Fury said that?” you ask distractedly, dropping the wipe and rummaging around for a gauze pad. In response, Strife exhales, a tiny, hidden smile creeping onto his lips. “Fury says a lot of stuff about you that you don't know about.”

Gently, you unroll the gauze and press it against his wound. “Wow, you sure that's your sister? Sounds like she might've been body snatched.”

“Ha!” The Horseman suddenly throws his head back. “Well, if she has been replaced, I sure as shit ain't going lookin' for the original. This Fury is... she's...”

He pauses, tipping his head in thought before eventually settling on, “She's learning.”

You blow out a long, impressed whistle and he nods his agreement, adding, “Yeah, s'weird for all of us too.”

The room lapses into silence once again as you stretch the gauze across Strife's abdomen and mutter, “Hold this,” before your hands are retreating and the Horseman's slide down to keep the bandage in place.

Reaching into the box once more, you take some bandages and begin to unfurl them gingerly over the top of the gauze. “Not hurting you, am I?”

You miss the soft expression he aims at the top of your head. “Never.”

You're more than aware that he probably won't tell you you've hurt him even if you were to stick your fingers in the wound twist them.

“Sooo~....?” you prompt.

Peering down at you, Strife cocks his head to one side and echoes, “Soooo?”

“What did Fury and War think I should know?”

“Oh. Right...” His reluctance is as painfully obvious as a slap to the face but you're slightly more focused on plunging your hand back into the first aid kit and rooting around for a roll of adhesive tape.

He observes you for a moment, growing more and more certain that despite your curiosity, you aren’t actually paying a great deal of attention to his words. Quite abruptly, he asks, “You listening?”

Emitting little more than a vague hum, you finally snag the tape and run your fingernail along the smooth surface, searching for the ever-elusive end.

“You sure?” Strife grunts skeptically, “Kid, this is kind of important.”

Without missing a beat, you nod your chin towards his injury and reply, “Yeah, well, you're kind of important too, buddy.”

Oh.

Oh, that's...

Strife wracks his brain, trying to pluck an appropriate response from amidst his tumbling thoughts. Part of him wants to scoff – of course he's important! He's Strife! The best, damn marksman who ever walked the realms of existence.

But then, there's another part of him that lurks deep behind the walls of hubris and brass he's been building meticulously for centuries, and it gives a little leap at the sound of your words, delighted beyond measure.

Averting his gaze, Strife lets out a chuckle. “You're getting soft.”

“Ah, I've always been soft.”

His heart thrums. “Wasn't talkin' about you, kid.”

You shoot him a smirk as you stick a piece of tape over the bandages covering his injury. “Well, if you're talking about yourself, then you're wrong again. You aren't getting soft. You've always been soft.”

The Horseman mutters something incoherent, but it's his distinct lack of an articulate response that speaks volumes to your ears.

The slight pressure of your fingers as they prod at the tape with tentative care leaves him mourning the centuries he's gone without knowing such a gentle touch. Rolling his eyes down to you, his smile droops and he sighs, sagging forwards to rest his elbows on his knees just as you attempt to place another strip of tape.

“Strife!” you complain, leaning back, “I need to put more tape on!”

He merely blinks at you languidly and says, “Later. I want you concentratin' on me right now.”

“I've been concentrating on you all night,” you huff, though you eventually concede and sit back on your haunches, peering up at the Horseman expectantly.

Studying your face for another moment, he breathes a long sigh and gestures to his stomach. "I told you a demon did this..."

“Uh huh...”

Solemnly, Strife continues, “So more specifically, it was a Shadow Caster. Been on her trail for a couple of weeks now. Finally caught up with her on some farmlands west of the city...”

“Okay?” you nod, digesting the information, “And why were you on her trail?”

He hesitates, flicking his eyes between you and the window a few times before he quietly admits, “She was comin’ after one of my friends...”

“Who?”

The look he throws you is so pointed, you suddenly feel like a fool for missing the obvious.

“Ah.” Understanding, you slowly nod your head.

“Yup.”

“But, she's dead now, right?” You gesture to his wound. “You came straight here after killing her.”

Strife's eyes darken further and each time they try to land on your face, they seem to slide right off again and drop to the carpet. “Uh, yeah. She's dead.”

You heave a sigh. “She wasn't the only one who's after me.”

“... No..”

“I see.” Inhaling long and slow through your nose, you tip your head back and slap your hands on your thighs, rubbing at them anxiously as you gaze around the room. “So, do we know how many there are?”

The Horseman eyes you for several, silent seconds. Eventually though, he speaks up. “Got wind of a small group of about four of 'em. Demons mostly, one undead. You and I've got a mutual... uh, friend, who's been keeping his ears to the ground, and he reckons they’re aiming to provoke another war between Hell and Earth by killin' the human envoy.”

“Wow. Talk about sore losers,” you scoff humourlessly, “So, who is this mutual friend?”

Some of the tension bleeds out of Strife's posture once he notices that you haven't immediately flown into a panic. “C'mon kid,” he snorts, “You know I can't expose my source. He doesn't want you know that he cares about you. Thinks you might start askin' for discounts if you thought he was getting' soft.”

“Discounts, huh?” Your lips quirk up at their edges and Strife smacks a palm over his mask in mock distress.

“Ah, hell, I gave it away, didn't I?”

“I bet his name rhymes with Shmulgrim, doesn't it?” you laugh.

Chuckling, Strife leans back on his hands again and replies, “Hey, you came to that conclusion on your own. Technically, I never told you who my source was.”

With the atmosphere in your bedroom gradually becoming lighter and lighter, you follow the Horseman's lead and relax backwards onto your hands, stealing a surreptitious glance at the bandages adhered to his torso.

It's no longer as surprising as it used to be that Vulgrim is invested in the well-being of his 'valuable asset.' The Horsemen are perhaps his best clients, hence the vested interest in keeping himself in their good graces by looking out for their human ward.

Shaking your head with a knowing smirk, you push yourself up onto your feet and glance down at yourself, brushing off your pyjama shorts, only to grimace when your hands do nothing but smear Strife's blood all over the fabric.

“Sorry... for the mess.”

You raise your head at the sound of the Horseman's voice and find him glowering down at the stains he's dripped onto your carpet, his eyes hooded and glum.

Heaving a sigh that you hope conveys both exasperation and affection, you reach out and place your comparatively tiny hand on his shoulder to give the pauldron a reassuring squeeze, drawing his gaze back up to your face. “I don't care about the mess, Strife” you tell him matter-of-factly, “The carpet's just here to stop my feet getting cold in the morning. You're my best friend.”

Ever so slowly, his luminous eyes grow wide with wonder and he lets his jaw drop open to speak, but before he manages to utter a soft, 'what?' you give his shoulder a friendly jostle and add, “So long as you're okay, pal, that's the main thing. Now...”

Trailing off, you move back around the bed and let your fingers slide off the Horseman's arm, stepping up to the bedside table containing your pyjamas, oblivious to how swiftly and easily you've just swept the rug out from underneath Strife's feet. He twists himself around on your mattress to watch you, his eyes as wide as than dinner plates.

Did you mean to say... best?

He – well, he always knew that you considered him a friend! Hell, he'd even go so far as to say the two of you are close friends.

But best?

Best implies that there's nobody – nobody – that you hold in higher regard than him...

'How did I miss that!?' his psyche all but screams at him, 'When the Hell did I get so important!?”

You aren't even looking at him, too busy rummaging through your drawers, as if you have no idea that you've just pulled his heart right out of his chest and now you have it cradled in the palms of your hands.

You could crush the life out of him with hardly a word.

“So, you never did say!” you call out to him as you duck into your ensuite bathroom and flick the light on, hiding yourself from view whilst you change, “How does the master of marksmanship get tagged by a Shadowcaster in the first place? You’re not usually the type to get up close and personal. That’s more War’s thing, right?”

All at once, the threats that demon witch had made against you ring like klaxons in Strife’s head and he has to make a conscious effort to ignore his instinct to leap off the bed and barge into the bathroom just to be sure you’re safe. He hears the shuffling of fabric against skin as you pull off the bloodied shorts and begin to pull on the new ones.

Grinding his teeth, he spits out, “She just.. got me mad, is all. Made me wanna have the satisfaction of wringing her neck with my bare hands instead of filling her with bullets.”

“Wait, seriously?” Your silhouette suddenly appears in the bathroom doorway and and strife glances up, briefly enraptured by the halo of light glowing at your back. A fellow human might have likened you to an angel. Strife, however, knows that none of the feathery bastards could hold a candle to you.

Garbed in clean shorts that smell distinctly of you, and not copper, you step out into your bedroom. “How’d a demon manage to make you mad? You’re like, the champ of not getting mad. It’s like your superpower.”

“Yeah, well..” he mutters, turning his helm away, “This time, she went too far.”

You’re quiet as you flop down onto the bed next to him, your eyes flicking between his downturned head to the fists that are clenched like vices at his sides, metal claws gripping fistfuls of your duvet so tightly, you’re worried he might end up poking holes in the cover.

Whatever had been said to him must have been bad if he’s this riled up.

Biting your lip, you let out a pensive hum and lean backwards, your fingers brushing over a soft lump near the headboard. At once, your eyes grow wide and your lips stretch into a sly grin as your hand closes over something fluffy and familiar.

Strife is still busy stewing when he’s suddenly brought out of his thoughts by a face that’s shoved promptly into his line of sight. He blinks, drawing his head away to properly see what you’re holding up in front of him.

He can’t contain a chuckle once he realises that it’s none other than your old, toy horse, dangling in front of him with its little, black ears flopping forwards to cover a pair of button eyes.

Allowing a smile to grace the edge of his mouth, the Horseman wordlessly relaxes his grasp on your duvet in favour of reaching out to gently take the soft toy out of your hands, lowering it down into his lap.

“I thought David Hasselhoof might make you feel better,” you tell him, bumping your shoulder against his companionably.

The Nephilim simply smiles, stroking his palm over the horse’s fuzzy mane.

“Hey, Strife?”

“Mmm?”

You fiddle with your fingernail for a moment, dropping your eyes to the bed and taking a breath before you ask, “What did the demon say that made you so angry?”

It isn’t as though you want to pry. But having your friend turn up at your house in the dead of night with his stomach torn open warrants a couple of questions, in your honest opinion.

The Horseman’s brows knit together underneath his helm and he shifts slightly, twisting away from you further until you can’t even see the lights of his eyes. If you didn’t know any better, you’d almost dare to say that he looks shy. An impossibility, frankly.

When he speaks, his voice is gentle, a far cry from the normal, strident tone you’re used to hearing. “She, uh, she might’ve made a couple of threats about you.. Bad ones.”

You wait for him to elaborate, but for some time, he doesn’t utter another word, prompting you to ask, “And?”

You very nearly reel backwards into your headboard when Strife whips around to face you. “And?!” he echoes, incredulous, “The Hell d’you mean ‘and?’ Isn’t that enough of a reason?!”

Taken aback, you lift your hands in a placating gesture and stammer, “Woah! I - I just meant... Well, it’s not like I haven’t been threatened before? Just seems like a weird thing for you to get so angry about.”

Without warning, the enormous Nephilim lurches to his feet, the cuddly horse left to tumble, forgotten out of his lap. “Did you not hear me?” he snaps, “She. Threatened. You!”

“A-and that... made you mad?”

“Did - Of course it did!” he all but howls, his voice cracking as it raises in pitch, “She made me listen to all the god damn, sick things she wanted to do to you when she found you! She said - she said, I’d never see you again!” Roughly, he drags his clawed fingertips through his spiky, black hair and exclaims, “Next thing I know, I’m droppin’ Redemption and Mercy, I’ve got her heart in my fist and I’m... I’m...”

He trails off, knocked out of stride by his own admission. You remain silent, pressed up against your head board with the blankets clutched to your chest.

When he notices you staring up at him, small and wary amongst the sheets, the frustration saps from him like water circling the drain. “So... so yeah,” he huffs, his shoulders slumping and a great wave of shame crashing over him, “I got a little mad! I got a little pissed off. Cause I didn’t like hearin’ someone say they were gonna hurt my friend.”

And with that, he just... deflates, not unlike a punctured tyre. All the hot air inside him is dispelled with every heave of his mighty chest whilst he peers down at you, feeling the weight of your stare upon him.

Guilt leaves a sour taste in his mouth, rancid and acidic.

You look so..

...scared.

Sometimes Strife forgets that to you, he’s an unassailable figure from biblical legend, a bringer of the end days and an ancient gunman with a body count higher than there are grains of sand on the earth. Of course you’re going to be scared of him when he’s raising his voice at you and towering over you like this. And all because he’d had the life scared out of him in the first place.

“I’m sorry, kid. I didn’t mean to -” The words die on his lips and he sighs, defeatedly casting his eye over towards your bedroom window. He doesn’t want to leave you, not without knowing that his siblings have dealt with the remaining threats to your life. But... “I’ll just.. I’ll go.”

Turning his back on you, the Horseman bends to retrieve his discarded cuirass and takes a step towards the window, but a voice, thin as the cobwebs in the corner of your room, stops him in his tracks.

“Strife.”

The Horseman doesn’t move. he just stares at the darkness through your curtains.

Minutes pass without another word said between you. He remains stubbornly silent, hardly daring to breathe let alone respond to his name, until eventually, he hears a soft huff and rustling behind him.

Footsteps pad across the room and your scent grows stronger as you draw near, wafting over him like an intoxicating aroma before your hand places itself into his palm and he instinctively curls his fingers around it, shuddering at the feel of your soft skin pressed like silk against his roughened hide.

Your tiny, fragile hand... Creator, he really is just a beast standing next to you, isn’t he? The last time he felt this monstrous was..

No. Strife abruptly slams the shutters of his mind down around any thoughts of the Animus. Now is not the time to let dredge up old memories.

Luckily, your voice breaks through the haze and keeps him grounded. “Come on, big guy. Stay here, please?"

“You want me to stay?” he chokes out a laugh, “Even after I scared you?”

“Scared me? What?” It’s your turn to sound confused. “You didn’t scare me Strife, you shocked me. I’ve never seen you this serious before.”

The Horseman half turns to face you, giving you a glimpse of his warm, golden eyes. “And, I’ve never had a best friend before.” he admits slowly, hearing a soft intake of breath behind him.

“Wait?... I’m your best friend?”

With your hand still in his, Strife steps around slowly to face you, shooting you a quizzical glance. “Uh, yeah? I mean, I don’t exactly have a plethora of friends to choose from, so the competition isn’t that fie- Oof!”

He’s violently interrupted by a soft, squishy body colliding with his.

You fling your arms around the stunned Horseman’s waist and bury your face into his chest, momentarily forgetting about his injury. Strife, meanwhile, has to employ every molecule of willpower he owns to refrain from flinching, fearing that you’ll let go if he does. He can’t ignore how high his heart just jumped at the feeling of you pressed against him, nor the way his soul soars after realising that you still trust him enough to get this close.

It’s something that both he and his siblings are all having to get used to, these impromptu hugs.

Fury had almost flipped you over her shoulder and onto the ground the first time you came at her with your arms open wide, assuming you were going in for an attack.

War had pulled the most remarkable face, a mixture of alarm and wary delight that caused Strife to keel over in hysterics when you threw your arms around his broad stomach.

Death... Well, Strife hadn’t been around to witness your first hug with his oldest brother, but he imagines it must have been like hugging a block of cold stone.

And Strife? Well, he doesn’t think he’ll ever forget the first hug you gave him. It was so tight and comfortable, and for all of a moment, the only things that existed were the two of you. Inside the binding circle of your arms, his troubles couldn’t touch him, the anguish of his sins took a backseat and he became convinced that he could live happily and peacefully until the end of time trapped in your silent embrace.

The sentiment hasn’t dulled with frequency either. Every hug he receives is as powerful and intoxicating as the last.

This one is no different.

Strife's large, thickset arms carefully raise to your delicate back and shoulders, where he simply folds himself around you, pushing the nose of his helm into your soft, messy hair and drawing in a long, deep breath, earning your snort of amusement.

“You a big fan of coconut, then?”

“Is that what that smell is?” he mumbles, feeling the world settle around him as his eyes slip shut, “S'different from last time...”

“...Setting aside the fact that you remember what my hair smelled like last time we hugged.. I ran out of apple shampoo.”

“Mmm.” He trails off, humming into your hair, a sound that rumbles straight through you and leaves the top of your head tingling.

It takes your brain another few seconds to recall the injury on his torso.

“Oh, shit,” you hiss, leaning back and instantly finding your progress blocked by the Horseman's sturdy forearms. “I'm sorry, I didn't think -”

“- Eh, s'fine,” he cuts you off.

“It's not! I forgot, you need to be resting it!”

Strife grumbles his displeasure when you suddenly become very wriggly. “Strife, let go. You should be resting, not standing.”

Cracking one eye open, he roves his gaze over towards your bed. “Resting, huh? …. Not a bad idea.”

Without warning, he stoops down, and for the second time tonight, you find yourself suddenly swept up off your feet, bleating out a garbled squawk of alarm. “Stop picking me up! You'll start bleeding again!”

Smirking to himself, the Horseman takes two, loping steps towards your bed and lowers you down amongst the folds of the duvet, taking great pleasure in crawling over the top of you to get to the other side, armour and all. It isn't the first time he's rested in your bed, usually following a long night of playing your video games and catching up on all the human things he's been missing out on, and it likely won't be the last.

The bed springs creak despondently as he lifts his corner of the duvet and flops heavily onto his side next to you, grinning at the unimpressed glare you're shooting him.

“I like your bed,” he announces, burrowing himself deeper beneath the duvet, “You got a lot of pillows. And-”

His hand rustles beneath the covers for a moment before he winks... and slowly draws out David Hasselhoof, wiggling him back and forth in front of your eyes. “There's room for a threesome.”

“Oh my god. Goodnight, Strife!” Your lips quiver until you give in and crack a genuine smile, grabbing a pillow and whapping it softly down onto his helm. You get no resistance from the Horseman at all in retaliation. He merely lays there with his head hidden, black tufts of hair sticking out from behind your pillow as his shoulders bounce around a throaty chuckle.

Leaving him where he is, you roll over, turn off the fairy lights and plunge your bedroom into cozy, unassailable darkness.

A thick silence falls over the two of you, and the back of your neck begins to prickle, sensing without a shadow of a doubt that the Horseman's eyes are open and watching you. Sure enough, you peel your eyelids apart and find that your far wall is faintly illuminated by the golden light that emanates from his gaze.

Rolling your eyes, you resign yourself to a long night of fighting for your covers and kicking a wriggling Horseman back over onto his own side of the bed. And yet... if it's him, if it's Strife, it most likely won’t bother you in the slightest.

The alarm clock on your bedside table steadily ticks over to the three o'clock mark and you finally feel sleep crawl up behind your eyes. Just as you think you might nod off, however, the bed shakes ever so slightly, and behind you, there's the sound of shuffling sheets. It stops just as suddenly as it starts and you snort, chalking it up to a certain, restless Horseman trying to get used to the human-sized bed.

Several more minutes pass.

The shuffling starts up again, then it stops.

The same thing happens again a few more minutes later and your eyes snap open when something cool and solid nudges gently into the back of your head and you hear a quiet sniff before the whole bed shudders as the enormous Horseman laying upon it releases a monstrously low rumble of contentment.

-----

Strife leaves his helm right behind you all night, not that you'd know until the morning however, when you jerk awake to your bedroom door suddenly slamming open and Death thundering inside. He takes one look at his brother laying at your back and promptly begins a lecture that you're fairly certain will be the favoured topic of neighbourhood gossip for some time to come.

#darksiders #darksiders 2 #darksiders 3 #Strife #reader #fluff #sharing a bed!#monster boyfriend #interspecies relationships #blood #injury #whump

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mandos-sluts · 3 years

Text

The Visit

This is Part One of a three-part series

The Visit Part Two

The Visit Part Three

The Mandolorian x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: Smut, dubious consent, fingering, dirty talk, mentions of sex work

Summary: You are Luke Skywalker’s Padawan, training directly under him at his Jedi Academy. Din Djarin is staying at the compound for a few days to visit Grogu.

A/N: Please message us or comment if you want to be on our tag list!! Also we love feedback <3

“What does he look like?”

“He’s a Mandalorian. Big silver shiny armor. Can’t miss him.”

*************************************

Boy was he right. You spot Din as soon as you step into the cantina. He’s standing at the bar, leaning over it slightly. His visor catches your eye from across the room, and he stares at you for a while, looking you up and down, before turning his head back to the bar. He’s never seen someone so beautiful in this parsec before.

Your Master, Luke Skywalker, told you to meet Din at the cantina and escort him to the Jedi Academy. Luke had similarly informed Din that he was sending his Padawan to rendezvous.

You know all about Din Djarin. You know his whole deal with Grogu and the Darksaber, and his run-ins with the Empire and the Guild. The story of his miraculous rescue of Grogu made its way around the school after Luke brought the child back to the Academy.

The cantina that you’re at is located in the town that lies right outside the Jedi Academy compound. It’s a place that many students go to blow off steam and hang out.

You find yourself surprisingly nervous as you walk up to the tall intimating Mandalorian. “Excuse me.” You say.

“Not interested.” He says shortly without even looking at you.

”What?” You asked, confused.

“I said I’m not interested.”

“Not interested in what?”

”Your services.”

”My services?” You don’t understand. Is he wanting to travel to the grounds by himself? That’s not an option....he wouldn’t be permitted on the estate without an escort. Didn’t Luke tell him of this arrangement?

Din exhales, clearly annoyed, and finally turns to look at you. “Do I need to spell it out for you? I’m not looking for a whore.”

You stand there, completely dumbfounded, your mouth slightly open from shock. A whore? What the fuck?!!

In his defense, you are wearing a rather skimpy-looking outfit. You have on what is essentially a tennis skirt and a bandeau; it’s the hot season on the planet. Even so, this guy is an asshole.

You take a breath and put a fake smile on your face. “My apologies….Din Djarin.” You say in a suggestive manner. Turning around to leave, Din whips around and grabs your upper arm tightly, yanking you closer to him.

“How do you know that name?” Din loudly whispers in a demanding, low voice.

You’re not stupid, you know that his name is known only by a few. “My industry has very skilled people.” You respond, hoping he will get the hint that you are in fact not a sex worker, but actually the person he’s supposed be meeting.

”Are you telling me your brothel somehow got a hold of my name?” Din is pretty pissed. Is this what he gets from doing dealings with Jedi? His name gets leaked to brothels?

You let out a sigh as your eyes roll. You snatch your arm out of his grasp and move swiftly out the door into the street. What a jerk. This guy can find his own way to the compound.

Din tries to follow you, needing to know how a random whore got his name, but the streets are pretty crowded.

”Oh, Mr. Djarin!” Din hears someone say. He looks over his shoulder and sees Luke Skywalker approaching him.

“H-hi, Master Skywalker.” Din says, deciding to give up on his pursuit of you, after all, that’s not the reason he’s here.

“I’m surprised to see you here, did my Padawan not pick you up?” Luke asks.

“No. He never showed.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry about that. Let me take you to the Jedi Temple.”

************************************* You hear your Master’s voice and footsteps nearing the empty lounge you’re sitting in. It’s a pretty big, dark lit room. There’s a conference table on one end, and an arrangement of couches and chairs spread across the place. It’s always empty, and you often use the area to meditate or exercise or just hang out. You pretend to look busy, eager for what’s about to occur.

“It is strange that my Padawan did not show up to greet you.” You hear Luke say behind the wall. He pokes his head around the door. “Ah, here she is.” He says walking into the lounge.

She? Din walks a few feet behind Luke. He turns the corner and walks through the door, freezing in his footsteps as soon as he lays eyes on you. There you are, the woman who approached him at the cantina….Luke’s Padawan.

You stare into his visor with a smug half smile on your face and slowly rise from your seat. You’re reveling in how taken aback he clearly is.

“Y/n, this is Din Djarin. I thought we discussed that you’d meet him at the cantina and escort him to the Academy? He says you didn’t show.” Luke says innocently as he stands between you and Din.

“Oh. I did go to the cantina. I guess I missed you.” You say slowly with your eyes locked on his helmet. “My apologies, Din Djarin.”

Din clears his throat. “Um n-no worries at all.” He chokes out. Shit! Din can’t believe he called you a whore. How did he not see the laser sword on your hip?

“Alright, well I’m gonna get to my meeting. Y/n, show Din around, alright?” Luke says.

“Of course Master.” You say with a slight bow of your head. You plant your gaze back on Din’s helmet as it rotates to watch Luke exit.

He slowly turns his look back to you, staring at him confidently with your hands on your hips.

“I’m sorry.” He says flatly through his modulator.

“For being such an asshole?” You say tilting your head.

“Yes. And assuming you were a prostitute.”

“There’s nothing wrong with sex workers. I’m not offended that you mistook me for one.” You say. But….why does it kind of turn you on that he thought you were a whore? Ugh and why does it turn you on that he is such a jerk??

There’s an awkward pause as you both stand there examining each other.

“So, you’re also a…Pawa-don?” Din asks, trying to fill the quiet. He has never been uncomfortable with silence before, in fact, he more often than not preferred it. But right now for some reason he feels different.

“Padawan.” You correct him. “And yes.”

“So are you doing the same training as the kid?” He further probes.

“Kind of. Grogu is more in the elementary stages of training. His focus is mainly on developing and fine-tuning his sensation with the Force. Most of my training nowadays centers around my lightsaber mastery and combat.” You inform him.

“Hm. Wonder when you’ll be good enough to battle me.” Din says casually as he takes a breath.

“What?” You ask.

“I said I wonder when you’ll be good enough in combat to put up a fight against me.”

Is he serious? Is he trying to provoke you? Even after the predicament he just found himself in with you? “Ha….um….I was good enough to fight you years ago.” You declare

Din looks at you for a moment. “I’m a Mandalorian.” He says simply.

“.....”

“The Mandalorian who wields the Darksaber. So you’re either overestimating your own ability or underestimating mine.”

You take a deep breath and take a step closer to him. “I know most people think that Mandalorians are the greatest warriors in the galaxy, but that’s because they don’t know of the Jedi Order. My connection with the force gives me strength that you will never know, that you will never be able to comprehend.”

Din takes a step closer to you. “That may be, but I have decades of combat experience that is simply unmatched by you, not to mention the most imperishable armour in the galaxy.”

“So what I’m hearing is that you would like to duel.” You say as you remove your saber from its holster and activate its blade. It’s a light lavender color, thin and sleek.

“That’s cute.” Din says. “Just a reminder, little girl. You were given that light saber. I won mine in battle.” He proclaims as he detaches his saber from his belt. *see gif*

“I made it. But fair point. Now enough talk, Mandalorian, are you ready to duel or what?” You say as you get into a battle stance.

Din holds his hand out. “If, by some miracle, you do happen to overpower me, don’t touch the saber. Bo-Katan is already mad enough that I have it, I can’t imagine what she’d do if a non-Mandalorian gets their hands on it again.”

“Yeah yeah, I’m well aware of the bizarre way that the ruler of Mandalore is chosen.”

“Alright then, princess, I won’t hold back.”

You feel heat rush through your core at those words. Princess. He won’t hold back. Uggh... focus! This guy has been demeaning you since the moment you met him, show him how powerful you are!

*************************************

You and Din battle for a good seven minutes, the two of you are pretty evenly matched, neither one of you gains the upper hand for very long. Just as you’re feeling your strength falter, you’re able to knock his saber out of his hands, and you push him onto the ground. Din tries to get up and reach for his saber but you plant yourself on top of him, straddling him. He looks up at you in defeat.

He takes a deep breath as you stare down at him. That’s when you notice the tent in his pants. You’re sitting on his legs so that his bulge is right above your crotch.

Adrenaline is pumping through your veins from your victory and a smile stretches across your face. “I have another quality that puts me at an advantage that I forgot to mention: your attraction to me and your primal desire to fuck me.” You say as you slowly place your hand on top of his clothed erection. You lean down and bring your face close to his helmet. “I bet your face is just bright red underneath this helmet of yours. Not only did you lose the battle, but your urges got the best of you.” You say in a condescending tone.

Din stares up at you, his chest moving up and down as he breathes.

“That’s where you and I differ.” You say. “A real warrior has self-control and self-restraint.”

Din moves his hands to your thighs and runs them up to your hips. “Who said I was trying to restrain myself?” He says in a raspy voice.

You’re a little caught off guard. You were teasing him, and this was not the reaction you were expecting. You thought he’d be embarrassed, you thought he’d want to get out of this situation as soon as possible.

“Face it.” You say after a pause. “You can’t repress your arousal, and your lack of self-control is a disadvantage to you.”

Din’s hands are still on your hips, and he pulls you up his body ever so slightly. “So since you have such great self-control, your panties wouldn’t happen to be wet right now, would they?” He inquires in a low, sultry voice.

You’re taken aback at his shameless words. “O-of course not.” You stutter as your confidence recedes.

“Let me see.” He demands flatly.

“What?” Did you hear him right? Your heart beat is pounding, you can’t tell if he’s joking around with you or not like you were doing with him.

“I said let me see.” Din says moving his gloved hands to the bottom of your skirt. “C’mon, pull this short little skirt up just a tad more and show me that your panties are dry.”

“N-no I–”

“Fine.” Din cuts you off. “I’ll do it myself.” He says as he removes one of his gloves. He then moves his bare hand under your skirt up to your pussy, easily pushing the thin panties you're wearing aside and planting two fingers inside your sopping wet folds.

You jerk at the contact of his soft skin on your sensitive pussy. “Din!” You exclaim. You grab his hand, but don’t move it.

Din chuckles. “Looks like you don’t have as much self-discipline as you claim.” He brings his other hand and cups your cheek. “Awwww, your face is just bright red right now.” Din mocks.

“W-whatever, you still lost.” You say out as you’re overcome with humiliation.

“Mmmmm. Congratulations.” Din says lazily as he removes his hand from your cunt and grabs your hips once again. “So, y/n. You showed me how Jedi fight. Let me show you how Mandalorians fuck.” He says as he pulls your hips and grinds you against his bulge.

Your panties are still pulled aside and the friction of his clothed erection against your clit makes you whimper.

“You– you wanna fuck me?” You ask hesitantly.

“Ha. Of course I wanna fuck you. Look at you.” He says as he lifts you off of him to stand up. Standing tall, he towers over you and brings his non-gloved hand to your chin, pulling it up gently to meet his gaze.

The unexpected and prompt shift in the power dynamic has you all turned around. Just moments ago, your confidence was through the roof. You were giddy claiming your victory against him, making fun of him for getting a boner during a duel. But the tone between the two of you has completely changed. He has you weak and timid, he’s looking down at your wide doe eyes as if you’re his prey.

“Come on, little Padawan. Practicing self-control is great, but let me show you what it’s like to lose all control over yourself.” Mando says as he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him. “Cuz I would just love to tie you up and have my way with you.” He mutters. Dins hands slide down to your butt as he gropes your flesh, pulling you flat against him. “Let down your guard for just a moment and let me show you how rewarding it can be.” Din slips his bare hand back under your skirt to find your cunt even wetter than before. You let out a whimper and bat your eyes at him.

He starts slowly circling your clit, and moves his other hand up to caress your cheek softly. “Come on.” He whispers in your ear. “I promise you’ll enjoy it.”

High-pitched breaths are escaping your lips as he gently runs his thumb up and down your cheek bone.

“Can– can you not–” you breathe, sliding your hands up his chest.

“What. What is it?”

You pause for a moment. “Can you not be so gentle with me?” You say with slight embarrassment.

Din scoffs, “Oh baby girl, you’re gonna regret saying that.” He says as he grabs a fist full of your hair and roughly pulls your head back, exposing your delicate neck to him.

This harsh action sends shocks to your pussy. “Didn’t you say something about tying me up?” You purr with a slight smile, looking up into his visor.

“So I was right about you being a filthy fuckin whore.” Din spits as he shoves a finger inside of you, his thumb rubbing against your clit.

“Y-yeah, but only for you.” You whine as your eyes fall closed and high-pitched moans begin escaping your lips.

“Ohh that’s right baby.” Din praises. He’s so turned on by the way you’re speaking and responding to his touch, and he loves the impact he has on you. How you so quickly went from a confident fighter when he lost to you, to a shy little girl when he started teasing you, to a dirty slut once he got his hands in your panties.

He starts pumping his finger faster and you can hear the lewd noises your obscenely wet pussy is making. Your mouth opens even more with your moans becoming more pronounced and your back arches. You’re standing pressed flat up against him, he’s basically holding you up on your toes with one arm as his other hand drives into your cunt.

You can feel your orgasm just beginning to climb when you suddenly hear a beep on your watch’s intercom. It jolts you back to reality.

“Y/n, are you at the lounge? I’m heading back there now.” Your Master says through the intercom.

“Shit.” You say as you push Din’s chest, pulling yourself off of him. “I should have shown you to your accommodation by now.” You say as you frantically start looking around your feet for your saber. By the time you grab it and look up for Din, he has already made his way out the back exit.

You attach your saber to your hip as you try to steady your breathing, disoriented from the abrupt conclusion of whatever it was you were doing with Din. You hear Luke’s footsteps approaching as you quickly try to put your panties back in place, growling at how soaked they are. You’re praying that your Master doesn’t notice the wetness that has been smudged on your inner thighs.

*************************************

You cannot believe what you did with Din. No one has ever done anything like that to you before. You get hit on all the time— you’re gorgeous— but you are almost never interested enough to give them the time of day. But Din? He had his fingers in your pussy after knowing you for ten minutes. How did he do that!?

It’s the early evening. You lie in your bed visualizing the events over and over again, heat pooling in your core as you replay the dirty things he said to you.

While it fuels your arousal, you also feel uneasy about the interaction. He left so quickly, and he left without saying a word to you, almost like nothing had happened. You hope that Din doesn’t think less of you, that he doesn’t think you’re some hussy who is easily persuaded into letting guys she just met finger fuck her.

You are pulled away from your anxious thoughts when you hear your intercom going off. It’s your friends talking about what they’re doing tonight. You don’t really care to pay attention, but you sit straight up in your bed when you hear something about that “Mandalorian who’s visiting the Academy,” and how he’s “at the cantina in town.”

You jump out of bed and without even thinking, you grab a sweater and head toward the parlor.

Your heart is beating on the chilly walk there. You hope he’s surprised to see you, you hope he’s excited to see you. You’re gonna act casual, yeah, like you didn’t even know he was there. No big deal! You’re just going to the cantina to hang with your friends. And then you see eachother, and bing bang boom, you guys are back in your room fucking while he calls you his little slut. Yes. This is gonna go great.

It’s a Friday night and the cantina is bustling. People are dancing, drinking, and gambling. It’s so loud that you can barely hear yourself think. As you make your way through the rowdy crowd, you spot Din’s helmet over the hordes of people. He is sitting in a somewhat secluded booth in the corner of the restaurant.

You proceed a few steps forward, lightly pushing people to get through the crowd, and then, your heart drops. He’s not sitting alone. There’s a girl, a woman, a sex worker, wrapped in his arm.

You stand there for a moment as everything goes quiet, you stare at Din and the beautiful woman in a tight short dress sitting beside him. She’s talking to him, saying things into the side of his helmet as he sits there looking forward with his arm casually draped around her, man spreading and all.

Din’s head turns and that’s when he notices you, standing there among the crowd of people in that same short high waisted skirt and a cropped sweater of the same color.

You feel something fall deep in your chest as you realize that he sees you. You blink a few times as the rest of your senses come back, humiliation and embarrassment overcoming you as you quickly turn around and stumble out of the bar.

You make your way into the dark street and take a few deep breaths before running back to the Academy. You're fighting off tears as you feel the cold air pinching every bit of your exposed skin.

You can’t believe that you let yourself become smitten by someone who was such an asshole. He mistook you for a whore, he insulted your combat skills, he pressed you to let him fuck you! You should have expected this.

A tear rolls down your cheek. Why did you think he liked you? He didn’t. He didn’t like you. And he didn’t want to fuck you, he just wanted to fuck someone, and you were the closest one to him. You let him use you. He must do this kind of shit all the time with women, you were nothing special.

You get back to your room and bury yourself under your covers, wanting to escape so badly from this reality.

TO BE CONTINUED

The Visit Part Two

The Visit Part Three

*************************************

Masterlist

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Taglist:

@pinkninja200 @raspberrymama @stevie75 @tacticalsparkles @kenoobiwan @shark-s @theamuz @blackrose8425 @beskarboobs @beskarboobs @smutslutz @princess-djarinn @spideysimpossiblegirl @riot-rotten

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thedelusionreaderbitch · 3 years

Text

Kaz Brekker x alkemi Reader - Strange Truths

A/n: This was so fun to do and me being an Alkemi really was happy with this request! Thank you! I'm so sorry it took so long though!

Warnings: None? Needles?

Request: ok ok so i have an idea- a kaz brekker x alkemi reader where kaz accidentally drinks one of the reader's newest chemical (prolly cause jesper slipped it into his drink) and it makes him super flustered and vv talkative and the reader has to keep him in their lab until they can finish the antidote and kaz tells the reader he likes them right after he takes the antidote so the reader realizes he's actually serious-

I do not own six of crows or shadow and bone or you!

Most people underestimated alkemi's but once they did it once they would not do it again. Kaz Brekker knew that alkemi's could just be as dangerous as a squaller all the way to a shadow or sun summoner if they were powerful enough. To be fair, very few were that powerful but most could kill you slowly and far worse than a heartrender so...

But you were a very powerful alkmei- one of the most powerful to ever live and that was why you are part of the crows. You can fight just fine, but the dregs had seemed to be getting very creative with their ways of killing to getting information and this was all thanks to you.

Though not all appreciated your talents.

Nina has grown up thinking that the alkemi's were weak was a part of those few, Inej just didn't understand you, Jesper understood but was still trying to come to terms with his own Grisha powers, Wylan thought you were amazing and Matthias was just flat out scared.

But that all changed when one day you poisoned a whole army.

Oh, Kaz was just... Happy? No one really knew, but sometimes he just seemed a bit more satisfied about how things were going with you around. Unfortunately for you, that meant he had to spend a bit more time around you trying to come up with more ideas. And that would have been just fine if it weren't for the fact that you were falling helplessly in love with Dirtyhands.

Ya, fuck.

Lately, you had been conjuring up something new in that lab of yours in the basement of the Slat. It was almost like a truth potion but not quite, it was to make it easier to get information out of its victims but not enough to notice.

Officially it was finished and you were going to go tell Kaz but you realized today everyone was going to be at the Crow Club. Just your luck that you hated socializing.

You sigh but you quickly grab the elixir and start running to the Club. Being late to a meeting was never really your foreté.

Finding finally the Crows even with the sea of people around you spot them when you meet Kaz's eyes. Of course, you had to meet his eyes. You go and sit down beside him as everyone had already decided on their drinks.

"Y/n's getting them this time since she's late!" Jesper grins in triumph as you just roll your eyes. It doesn't matter you guessed he was almost always going to be the one late so you figured it wouldn't matter if you had done it this one time. Besides, it would give the sharpshooter (and his boyfriend) a break for once.

Getting up from your seat you walk towards the bar and ask for everyone's drinks. He hands you them and you talk to the bartender as you walk back towards the group.

"I'm your waiter for one time only, don't get used to it."

Kaz just clears his throat and starts talking about a plan that's really in reality just a decoy because of Inej's intel there would be Dime Lion spies in the Crow Club today.

And why not take that to your advantage?

Suddenly Kaz stops talking and you lift an eyebrow at him. He just shakes his head and the others just shrug their shoulders and start a different conversation.

For a bit, you do engage in conversation with the other Crows but Kaz just seemed different? Like he was trying not to burst out talking or something?

"Dirtyhands, you good?"

Instantly his face flushed a bright pink and he stutters out;

"Ya-ya fine. Totally fine, everything's good. Go back to whatever I guess. Just leave me alone and do your work you shouldn't have even asked, so can you please-" He cut himself off and flushed (what you didn't even know was possible) red even brighter.

What the- You always called Kaz Dirtyhands as more as a nickname than a mean term almost like a term of endearment. Although he didn't know that he never had even blinked when you used the little nickname more than necessary so why was he now?

Also to add to that fact, was that you really never called him Kaz. It was mostly to keep yourself in check so you didn't get used to him too much. It was more like reminding yourself that you both weren't on a first-name basis even if you already were.

Narrowing your eyes, you can see that his pupils are slightly dilated and that he's bitting down on his tongue really hard to stop himself from talking. This wasn't just Kaz Brekker flustered, there was something else going on here. And you had to figure at fast before the Dime Lion spies did, or if they already had.

"Brekker, I need to you answer me honestly okay?" You lower your voice and you soften your tone like you would with your targets to get information out of them. You didn't like doing it, but it was the price to pay for his safety.

He just bobs his head up and down trying not to say anything.

"What have you ingested today?"

"Just the drink. Not anything else, being that I forg-" He cuts himself off from his whisper-rant covering his hand over his mouth.

"You haven't eaten today!" Accidently you raise your voice and the anger and concern shine through your usual stone-cold tone.

Kaz widens his eyes and gives you a look to shut the fuck up. He was still the Bastard of The Barrel after all.

Wait, now that you think about it...

You reach into your pocket for your newly brewed elixir and when you take it out it almost confirms it for you.

The lid is open.

Oh, fuck maybe it's better not to cure Kaz because you might just die after this.

It all made sense now though; talkative, flustered, overused & exaggerated facial expressions, looseness of the tongue. Those were all symptoms and you hadn't even noticed.

Well... At least you knew it worked and it was effective. Very effective... Fucking hell Kaz really is going to kill you now.

Grabbing onto his coat sleeve (being extra careful not to touch his skin) you drag him out of the crow club away from the prying eyes of everyone and the shouts of 'what the hell!' From your friends.

Quickly you drag him to the basement of the Slat where all your potions, bombs, machines, elixirs, poisons and most importantly supplies are.

"You can sit there." You point at a chair in the back of the room that basically had a view of everything.

"You better make me an antidote or I swear to-"

You cut him off before he says something he'll regret later. "Go sit your ass down Dirtyhands and let the real Grisha do their magic."

He flushes again and walks over to the chair but not without muttering under his breath how Grisha cannot do magic. And how their abilities work and etc.

By the saints! Now you really didn't want to reverse that chemical elixir, he just sounded really cute. But who the fuck are you kidding? This is Kaz Brekker we're talking about and you just thought of him as cute.

Welp, this is getting interesting.

Quickly you mix some ingredients together trying really hard to go as swift as you can. No one could see Brekker like this it would kill his reputation.

You look down at the antidote and you curse under your breath. This was going to need a needle. Oh fuck, you might as well just die right there.

Hurrying over to your cabinet you quickly go through the vials wondering what size you would need till you found the perfect one. It wasn't very big, and because it was fabrikator made he wouldn't even feel a pinch. But at the same time, it would hold your elixir even if it was a very tiny vial.

"Brekker, your gonna have to put your arm up for me."

You don't turn around knowing that this probably could be your death right here in your lab. At least Kaz Brekker will kill you so at least that's memorable. You sigh, Kaz Brekkers Alkemi was killed by Dirtyhands himself.

"Why?" Most of the time Kaz would just raise his eyebrow at you but because of the fun chemicals that he had in his body that was not the case.

"You might want to roll up your sleeve as well." You say nervously turning around so the needle was visible.

"Because I'm going to have to use a syringe."

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?!"

You slowly walk over and you shake your head.

"Sleeves up."

Kas just grumbles while putting his sleeves up you can tell he's uncomfortable. Now looking back at it you didn't really know how many barrel rats have had needles before, and if they did it probably wasn't good.

"What's your favourite colour?"

He snaps his eyes to meet yours and that's the moment you press the needle in his skin.

As you thought before he didn't flinch but he looked like he wanted to kill you with that stare but his eyes seem to soften with your worried stance.

"It didn't hurt did it?"

Kaz just shakes his head and you sigh in relief. "There shouldn't be any after-effects but I might just check in to see just in case."

He's almost out the door when he stops just at the entrance.

"Your eyes."

You whip your head around to meet his dark eyes.

"What?"

Slowly he comes away from the door frame advancing on you and he shakily takes off a glove and presses his hand against your cheek.

"You asked me what my favourite colour was."

You have convinced yourself that at this moment you have stopped breathing. Nothing else matters but you two of you in this room. The feeling of his hand on your cheek sends butterflies everywhere in you. And you can't stop to think about how beautiful and terrifying those brown nearly black eyes are.

"Boss!" There's a shout from upstairs and he quickly pulls away putting his glove back on.

"So I'll be seeing you around Brekker?"

He rolls his eyes. "You know you can call me Kaz right?"

You laugh as you herd him through the door knowing that he has business to attend to.

"But I think you much prefer when I call you Dirtyhands."

The blush spreads across his cheeks albeit not as strong this time but at least you know it's not from one of your elixirs.

"Only you Y/n only you."

Words 1799

-thedelusionreaderbitch

Shadow and bone taglist: @kaqua @rika90 @thefandomplace @musical-theatre-obsessed-dumbass @gallysonegoodlung @navs-bhat @sumsebien @dontjudgeabookbythecover

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