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adelheidvonschicksal · 1 day

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I know | Megumi x Reader Ft. Gojo

Request: Megumi and the reader no longer know how to meet on the sly without looking too suspicious, but Megumi adamantly refuses to let Gojo know about their relationship. What if the reader is a student from Kyoto and everything happens during the exchange event? And, conveniently, Megumi doesn't know that there are cameras installed throughout the forest monitored by the teachers.

Pairing: Implied!Megumi x Fem!Reader; platonic Gojo/Megumi

Content Warning: Fluff, main focus is Gojo and Megumi, Megumi is a moody teen

For @yaninnaacu

Satoru likes to tease people. For his own entertainment and to try to build friendships with them. It also didn’t hurt if, in the end, his actions made their lives a little better and brought some happiness to them. A small laugh in a harsh world like this could mean a lot, the right push could change someone’s entire outlook.

So, he likes to play the fool, try to get people to let their guard down so he could wiggle in through an unknown crack and maybe make their world a little easier to breathe in and it wouldn't be a lie to say his own as well.

This holds doubly true for one precious student in particular.

“You seem excited. Ready for the big exchange event?”

Megumi stops his stretching, rotates his neck a few times to get out the last of the cricks, before turning to face him. The training grounds are empty tonight, save for the two them, and Satoru has never seen Megumi this interested in training.

“Not particularly.”

He says that but the Megumi that Satoru knows would never be this determined. Megumi may not have realized it but Satoru has been watching him train ever since he came back to the school. He hasn’t had much time to watch over the other students since training Itadori, but he knows that they’ve been making strides. Megumi included.

“I heard about what happened with Aoi,” Satoru says, poking around in the younger boy’s wounds to see if he can find the reason for this sudden burst of passion. “I thought you’d be interested in fighting him.”

“I’m over it.”

“Really?” Satoru says with a laugh. He has no reason not to believe Megumi, but he still has the suspicion it might be a little deeper than that. “Something has to be on your mind. You’re not normally this energetic.”

He racks his mind, trying to find the last time he remembers the kid having any sort of pep to his step so to speak. He’s always been a bit…restrained except when—

“Oh.”

Gojo smiles.

“I remember now.” Satoru chuckles lowly and dares to pat the boy on the shoulder. It’s a little harder than he was aiming for and Megumi jerks forward with a scowl. “It’s because your girlfriend is coming. Her clan enrolled her into Kyoto, right?”

If there is one thing about Megumi, it’s that he doesn’t change one bit with age. That glare is still just as scary as it was when he was five.

“She isn’t my girlfriend,” Megumi corrects, his eyes downcast. “We’re…friends.”

“Still!?” Satoru really, really doesn’t mean to sound insensitive but he is honestly surprised. Megumi always treated you politely and with more regard than others. Granted that bar was so low that people in hell could trip on it but to Satoru it was noticeable that Megumi held some type of soft spot for you. Satoru clears his throat to try to regain his composure and hopefully stop Megumi from stabbing him with his eyes. “Ya’know events like these provide the perfect opportunity to impress someone; show them what you’re made of.”

Satoru means it. He genuinely wants to help, and he doesn’t think you’d be adverse to giving Megumi a chance if Megumi would only give himself the chance first.

“Good thing I’m not trying to impress anyone.”

“Don’t be that way,” he says, extending his arms out in an effort to offer his time to his little student. “How about you train with me one more time before the event?”

“No thanks,” he disagrees immediately, and Satoru deflates over the fact that Megumi didn’t even stop to think about it before grabbing his pack and walking away.

Megumi isn’t willing to take that step yet, he guesses.

The morning of the Goodwill Event comes faster than most. The teams set off while Satoru and the other teachers find a cozy room to set up in and watch the festivities. Everything seems to be going well so far with the teams fighting and breaking off in different directions.

It isn’t long after when Satoru picks out one student from Kyoto different from the others. Satoru could tell that the other students were aiming to pick each other off one by one, and he had his ideas on why that was the case. However, the crow focused on you noticed you weaving through the forest, ignoring the other students in the vicinity, as you made your way to a very specific destination based on your speed and concise path.

That is until you’re stopped by one of the curses released into the area.

“Utahime, it looks like your little busy bee is engaged in battle with a curse.”

The other teacher doesn’t turn her direction, focusing on another screen.

“Fushiguro is on a direct path towards the fight as well.”

Satoru raises his eyebrows, his blindfold widening with the strain. Sure enough, the two of you collide on both screens, and it isn’t but a matter of seconds to take out the curse together. It isn’t unusual for the two schools to fight together; after all, the rules did state that exorcising curses was the top priority. Next, would be—

“Now, what will they do.” Satoru tilts his head to the side, watching Utahime as she brings a hand to her mouth and mutters behind it. “Normally, I’d have no doubts that she can beat him. However, given the terrain, she’s at a disadvantage.”

Satoru hums to himself, wondering the exact same thing. The two of you should be pretty evenly matched in this situation; but as he watches the screen, he notices that neither of you look interested in fighting.

In fact, Megumi is touching you, hand crossing over your face and moving your head around. Satoru can barely make out the sight of blood on your face with the screen this zoomed out but it doesn’t matter as Megumi wipes it off. There’s only a small moment where Megumi lets his forehead press against yours as he cups your cheeks.

Gojo raises his blindfold over one of his eyes, just to make sure he’s seeing this correctly. Surely, he is when Megumi briefly kisses you. He can barely contain his laughter. He knew it! There was no way you two weren’t dating!

“Stop talking to yourself, 'hime, and look.”

Utahime looks back up at the screen, her face scrunching. “Are they?”

“I knew it,” Gojo repeats his thoughts. This time he does laugh as he kicks up his feet and throws his hands behind his head.

“What are they saying?”

“I never took you for a voyeur.”

“Will you shut up!” she says before glaring back at the screen. Her eyes search out for Megumi, who has already headed out of this broadcast area to the other. “Where is he going?”

“Looks like he’s headed straight to Kamo. I can’t imagine him smooth-talking the information out of her but there it is. My students really do take after me. I’m so proud.”

“You’re insufferable,” Utahime replies, scoffs, then returns to watching the battles unfold.

After the events of the Goodwill Event and the chaos of that Special Grade intruding on the event, Satoru takes the time to check on all the students injured during the fight. He makes his last stop Megumi, who had spent the longest time getting the spores taken out of his stomach before being patched up by Ieiri.

With his hand on the door handle, Satoru stops outside the door to his room. He can sense two people’s energies from behind the wall, one from Megumi and the other from…oh…looks like someone came to comfort Megumi before he could get the chance.

The words from behind the door are low.

How are you feeling? Does it hurt?

Satoru laughs to himself when Megumi obviously tells you to stop mothering him and that you’re worrying too much. He doesn’t know why the little guy still has such a hard time letting someone care about him, but it comforts him to know that you’re not willing to accept it as he hears a harsh “stop being stubborn and let me see.”

He’s so caught up in his thoughts that he doesn’t realize when he presses on the door too hard. The door squeaks inward causing him to tumble in a little clumsily on his tall limbs and for you two to pop up like spooked deer.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he dismisses clumsily – caught red handed. “I was coming to check on my favorite student, but it looks like his girlfriend is already taking good care of him.”

It’s adorable how your eyes widen and your mouth gapes as you sputter out an incoherent excuse. “No, I was just uh—” your fluster only increases when you finally realize you’re still holding the edge of his shirt in your hand while his hand is gripped on your wrist obviously midway in stopping you. You aggressively push his shirt back to him, making him hiss as you tap his stomach. “This is a misunderstanding, sensei.”

“It’s alright,” Satoru says, raising his palms and flattening them to let you know it’s fine to calm down. “I already know. No need to pretend.”

“How do you—”

“Funny thing about the event,” he starts, taking one long step in the room to the nearest chair. He spins the chair around, sitting in it backwards with his legs hugging the chair and his chin rested on the curve of the back. “Teachers keep a close eye on the students, accessing their battle prowess and team strategies. It just so happens that to do that we need visuals. Mei Mei’s crows…recording devices…cameras…yeah I don’t think there’s many blind spots to miss any battles or when a pair of students want some alone time together.”

Backing away from Megumi, you place your hands in your hands and bow your head towards him. “Sensei, we didn’t mean to do anything against conduct. I just…wanted to help Megumi and the vesse—Itadori.”

“I’m not lecturing you, so there’s no need to be so formal,” Satoru tells you, not that he minds having someone who gives him a little respect around him. “I want to give you my blessing.”

Megumi is the first to object, his nose stiff and scrunched as he bares his teeth at Satoru, mostly in surprise. “No one needs your blessing, and you’re not my parent.”

“Ouch. So touchy,” Satoru remarks, his smile stretching as he glances back over to you. It’s cute how he gets so worked up over something so small, well, he guesses young love isn’t so small, and he can’t help the little urge he has to tease him. “He’s so grouchy. Honestly, you’re way too good for him.”

Megumi hisses. “Get. Out.”

“No, it’s okay,” you say with a smile, stand, and gently press your hand to Megumi’s shoulder. “I should get going. I’ll come check on you later, Megumi.”

You make a beeline to the door, pausing only to give a short bow.

“Good night, sensei.”

“Good night,” Satoru waves casually, as if he didn’t know that bow just now was to hide your flustered face as you scurry out the room. “She ran off…Cute.” Despite your actions being endearing, the same couldn’t be said for the side-eye he was receiving from the dark-haired boy. “Don’t look at me that way. How come you didn’t want to tell me?”

“Because you’d act exactly like that,” being the answer.

“Okay, okay. You’re not completely wrong,” he agrees. He willingly fell into Megumi’s irritation, riding the waves of it to hopefully end up on a small island where forgiveness was waiting.

Megumi didn’t give him that.

“Didn’t I tell you to get out already? I’m recovering.”

Satoru thinks if Megumi has the energy to keep up his attitude then that must mean he’s doing well, which is good given the nature of his wounds from earlier. Satisfied, Satoru decides to give his charge some peace.

“Fine. Fine. We’ll talk about you lying to your teacher later.”

He doesn’t give any mind to the growl Megumi gives him or when the boy ignores his wave by adjusting his gaze to the flowers on the nightstand.

Satoru would lie to say that attitude doesn’t hurt sometimes, but that’s okay. Even if Megumi was distant about it, even if he still didn’t want to give in and accept the fact that Satoru very much cares about him, you care about him as do his other classmates.

If Megumi could remember to accept that and to allow the rest of you to hold onto him and learn to hold onto you in return, then he’d be alright.

So, Satoru stops at the door, because he just has to make sure that Megumi doesn’t make the same mistakes that he did. “Do you know what you’re doing?” Satoru sighs when he doesn’t receive a response. “You should treat her well. Don’t do anything you’ll regret.”

“I know,” he reassures him bluntly.

“You can always ask me for anything,” he offers, without the bravado and grandeur, and he lays himself out, extends an invisible hand for Megumi to reach towards, just as he always has whether the boy wanted it or not.

And Megumi falters, if only for a brief second, he lets his eyes meet Satoru’s a bit more softly, with less caution, and his voice has lost all the bite that was there moments ago.

“…I know.”

Megumi forces his eyes back down and refuses to look at him. It reminds him of the kid who let his guard down enough to fall asleep next to him for the first time many years ago.

“Good talk then!” he remarks with a thumbs up and a laugh. Otherwise, he might not keep his composure that the warm feeling coating his being makes. “Make sure to get some sleep. We want you well rested for tomorrow’s events.”

Satoru doesn’t expect a good night as he grabs the door but he doesn’t expect Megumi to call out to him either.

"Hey."

It’s with a tinge to his ears that Megumi finally looks at him again.

“...Thanks.”

#megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #jjk x reader #megumi fluff #dad gojo #gojo fluff #megumi and gojo

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mediumgayitalian · 17 hours

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“Hello, twerp.”

Kayla grunts at him. She is focused, intently, on something small enough to be covered up by her hands and curtaining hair; Nico decides it is likely some kind of explosive. There is a reason she, Banned From Arts ‘n’ Crafts For Criminal Reasons, is sneaking into the Hermes’ cabin’s time slot and hiding behind Julia.

Instead of confirming that she is, indeed, planning to blow up at least one of her brothers’ bunks in their sleep tonight, because of Plausible Deniability, Nico swings a leg over the picnic table bench, settling in next to her. She spares a second of attention to blow a raspberry at him, seemingly unprovoked. Nico reaches calmly over, plucks a pair of scissors from Connor’s hands, which he allows because of who he is as a person, and snips a piece of her hair. In response she pulls a notebook from her pocket and puts a little tick mark next to Nico’s name.

“So,” Nico says, choosing to ignore that. “I have a Question.”

“Ten dollars.”

“I’m not paying you, you little shit.”

“Then wonder in silence.”

Nico digs two wrinkled fives from his shoe and slams them on the table, scowling. Kayla pockets them.

“Proceed.”

Nico glares at her, noting her twitching mouth, and remembers that he does, in fact, need her help, and her brother is, in fact, his best friend, so challenging her to a duel to the death is a bad idea on both counts.

(Nonwithstanding the part where she has deadly accuracy with any projectile from almost any semi-reasonable distance. And he has, like, a sword. So.)

“Your brother,” he starts, and he does not need to clarify which one, “is always trying to…feed me.”

“Yes,” she agrees, “he is internally a seventy year old Southern woman. He does that.”

“Fruits.”

“Hm.”

“Oranges, specifically. Like, every single meal.”

“…Ah.”

It is a very knowing ah, Kayla’s little noise, and in fact she sets her project aside. (It is, in fact, an explosive.) She turns slightly on the bench to face him, lips pursed, hands folded. She blinks at him for several moments. Nico holds her gaze, remembering he is out ten dollars.

“My dear brother,” she begins, “my lovely, kind-hearted, smiley, morning person brother, is neurotic.”

Nico waits. This is, apparently, the end of her sentence, as she does not continue.

“I am aware,” he says slowly. “I have been present during every rant about Hollywood inaccuracies about medical sciences.”

She nods sagely. “This is true. You have. You are, however, by virtue of his cripplingly low self esteem and fervent belief that his mere existence is a Literal Actual Curse, spared from much of his most…colourful…contingencies.”

“Contingencies,” Nico repeats.

Kayla nods again.

“Yes. You see, dear future brother-in-law —”

“Cease,” Nico snaps, reddening.

“— our lovely William, also known as your Special Guy, according to Nico With Severe Blood Loss.” continues Kayla, not ceasing, “is under the impression that you, like all people, have a Limit.”

“…A Limit.”

“Yes. A point or level beyond which something does not or may not extend or pass.”

“I know what a godsdamn limit is, Kayla.”

“You seemed confused.”

“I am going to strangle you.”

Openly snickering to herself, she moves on.

“He feeds you oranges because he regularly paces around the cabin in the middle of the night stressing about your vitamin levels,” she explains, finally. “He doesn’t know how to tell you that like a normal person because he’s afraid he’s going to weird you out. Ergo.” She makes a flippant gesture with her hands. “Citrus.”

“Why is he so godsdamn cute,” Nico mutters to himself, then remembers to throw out a hasty, “Thank you,” before scrambling away from the table, ignoring the gathered snickers, and beelining for the the Demeter cabin. “Gods.”

It is empty, thankfully, when he strolls in, except for Miranda in the front gardens, who holds up a finger as he gets closer and whispers to a struggling seedling.

“Hey,” she says after a moment, smiling up at him. “What’s up?”

“I need,” he starts. He purses his lips, rocking back on his heels. His hands make some kind of motion. He’s not sure what, exactly, he didn’t give them permission. “I need.”

Miranda, thankfully, has had years of experience communicating with non-speaking entities, and as such is relatively fluent in Nico. She dusts off her hands, patting the spot beside her. Nico sits as indicated.

“Try a deep breath first,” she instructs. “When your brain is back up and running, try again.”

“It’s running. It’s running a lot.”

“Oh. In that case, might I suggest a small shout of frustration?”

“You may.”

He clears his throat, resting his hands on his diaphragm to Maximize the Output, as he has been previously instructed, and yells. A passing satyr jumps a full five feet in the air and flees. Nico grimaces, calling apologies after them.

“They’re never going to like me,” he grumbles.

Miranda pats his head. “There, there. One issue at a time.”

“Solace,” he says at her invitation, gesturing again. “Oranges.”

“…Ah.”

“He is. You know. Right?”

“I must confess I do not.”

He takes a moment to collect himself. Or, well, he tries to. He’s had an easier time trying to wrangle errant souls surfing along the Styx, but whatever. He literally owns his brain. It Shall submit to him, or he’ll get a new one. Watch.

“Will is…intensely thoughtful.”

“He’s a sweetheart,” Miranda agrees. “Once he brushed past me on the way to dinner and felt that I was going to get a cold, so he took the food I got and exchanged it for soup and veggies and Gatorade and stuff. He forgot to actually tell me that I was about to get a cold, at the time, but it was really nice of him in hindsight.”

Nico makes another loud, strangled bleating noise. Thankfully, no satyrs are harmed.

“He is so!”

“There, there,” Miranda says again. “You’ll get to full sentences soon, I’m sure of it.”

He takes a few moments to have a minor crisis in the peace and tranquility of Friendship. It’s this new thing he’s been trying. Will tells him it’s usually called ‘trust’ and ‘vulnerability’. It is mortifying for the most part but in small doses is kind of cool. Mostly.

“Who takes care of Will?“

“He doesn’t really get sick. Apollo genes and all that.”

“No, like. Emotionally.”

“Oh.” Miranda frowns thoughtfully. “Um. Chiron, maybe? I’m not actually sure.”

“It needs to be me,” Nico stresses. “He always takes care of me, and I want to, like, repay him. Not transactionally,”Nico rushes to clarify, “but, like, mutual care-ily.”

“I see.”

“You see?”

“Yes,” Miranda says sagely. “You must Show Him. That you are Invested in your Relationship.”

“Yes!” Nico cries, gripping her by the elbows. She meets his gaze head on, eyes wide and wizened. “Yes, exactly. Relationship Investment. You’re so smart.”

Miranda preens. “Thank you.” She stands, brushing off her jeans — fruitlessly, she’s got grass stains on top of grass stains on every piece of clothing she owns — and offering Nico a hand. Together they stand and observe the various shrubs, trees, and vines surrounding the cabin, hands on their hips.

Nico narrows his eyes. “Should I just get him oranges?”

“I still don’t fully understand the orange thing. But Will likes peaches.” She leans up and plucks one off of the largest tree, holding it out to Nico. “They make him think of home.”

Nico takes the peach and inspects it. It is, of course, impeccable — thick and heavy, skin soft and unblemished, full enough with juice and flavour to be fragrant even from the arm’s length Nico holds it. This is the kind of peach that wins fairs. This is the kind of peach that sits, prized, in a market, watching as mothers and hipsters claw at each other. This is the kind of peach that immediately upon first touch strikes within you such an intense urge to chuck it at the nearest hard surface and watch it splat into a beautiful explosion of Squelch that Nico has to, hastily, set it down and out of immediate reach.

“It’s perfect,” he declares.

“Don’t throw it at him,” Miranda advises, eyeing the fruit herself.

“Shan’t,” Nico promises, and it doubles at a warning to his brain because he can’t lie to Miranda, obviously, so his brain better Check Itself. There will be no peach throwing. Peach holding, only, and peach giving.

He waves goodbye to Miranda as he hustles off, headed for the bustling infirmary. There have been no great emergencies today — there would be a lot more of Will’s echoed screeching if this were the case — and many people who have walked in have walked out, minutes later, scowling, so now is a good a time as any. He could of course wait until Will is done his shift and they meet by Cabin Seven, like usual, but this is a Pressing Issue. Will can no longer continue to believe that Nico has a Limit, as Kayla had so unhelpfully explained. Nico is Limitless. He is a sine function. He is an eternal abyss. He is the final end of Chiron’s patience, if the horse is to be believed.

Also, the peach is really really tempting and Nico honestly does not have all that much control over his brain. It usually kind of does as it pleases. That’s why he has so many Situations.

“Solace,” he shouts, banging open the screen door loud enough to make everyone inside jump, “GET the hell over here.”

“I. Am.” Will holds up a patient’s arm, which has been hastily butterfly-clamped closed and is now being stitched. “Um. Is it urgent?”

Nico snaps his mouth shut. “No.” He stalks over to where Will is sitting, still bewildered, on his favourite stool, and stands with his arms crossed behind him. He nods at the injured camper, clearing his throat. “Proceed.”

“…Okay.”

Because Will is a Professional, his gaze remains focused on the gaping wound he is fixing. Because no one else at this camp is, everyone else chooses to gawk. Nico lets the fires of Hell enter his eyes, like Father showed him, and glares them all into subservience.

“Alright,” Will says, several minutes later, patting the patient’s knee with a smile. “I’m gonna wrap this, Jen, and you gotta keep it dry, okay? Have ambrosia twice a day like I told you and come see me at the end of the week.”

“There’ll be no scar?” the young girl hedges.

“Not if you follow my instructions,” Will promises. “Although you’ll be just as beautiful with a scar, kiddo, I promise. Ask your mother.”

Jen looks at him doubtfully, but Will is one of those people who’s unbelievably hard to distrust. It’s infuriating, if you’re Nico and committed to the whole goth/emo lifestyle. Probably comforting if you’re a normal person.

She leaves, and it is abruptly very quiet in the infirmary, which is crazy because it is abruptly never quiet at camp unless people are dead, usually, but no one is dead, and people are too godsdamn nosy to flinch away from Nico’s glare, or maybe they’re not scared of him anymore, and hey, isn’t that something. The world is so busy, all the time. Things keep happening. Who’s fault is that, again?

“Nico?” Will asks, rocking back on his heels. His hands are suddenly clean of blood and grime and his scrubs have been swapped out. They stand, also, at the other end of the infirmary, right outside of the on-call room. He looks up, and conversations have resumed, and Will is watching him, intently, bright eyes slightly too wide, front teeth gnawing at his bottom lip, Ace bandage winding, unwinding, winding.

“This is for you,” Nico blurts, and shoves the peach at him.

Will blinks. “Oh.” He stares at the peach, a moment, before a smile erupts on his face. “Oh! Thank you!”

He takes the peach, gently, from Nico’s hands, and holds it close to his chest, wide hands gentle so as not to bruise, smile gone close-mouthed, giddy. The rocking gets every so slightly faster, and the slight breeze from the open screen door ruffles his frizzy hair, and his nose is scrunched, just slightly, enough to wrinkle his dotted feathers, and Nico’s mouth is very, very dry.

“I do not,” he tries, and it grinds along his paper-parched throat, near silent, “I do not have Limits, William.”

The rocking stills. Nico mourns it.

“…Sorry?”

“Limits,” Nico repeats. “I do not have them. I am Limitless. Purge the thought.”

“You have limits,” Will says, alarmed. “Um, we had that talk, right? About pushing yourself and why that is generally regarded as a bad plan.”

“That was you shouting at me in between nectar shots and frantic mothering, actually, but that’s not what I meant.”

Will doesn’t answer, only tilting his head.

“You’re neurotic,” Nico attempts to explain, and as could be expected by literally anyone with a brain this goes poorly, and he rushes to amend. “I mean! Well, you are neurotic — but! There is a but! Stop looking at me like that! You are neurotic but!”

“This is a very bad friendship break up if that is what you are trying,” says Will in a small voice, and Nico resolves to kick his own ass later tonight to Atone.

“I like it,” he hurries to explain. “You and your — neuroses. All of you, I like it. There is no Limit. Capital L. You’re groovy. On — point. Fleek? What do the kids say. I don’t —”

“Oh,” Will breathes, thankfully putting Nico out of his misery, “oh, this is about the oranges.”

Nico nods miserably.

“The oranges are —” Will cuts himself off, staring down at his shoes. “Um, scurvy freaks me out.”

“…Scurvy?”

“It — collagen synthesis is an active process? In your body? And scurvy makes it degrade really quickly. Which kind of tears your body apart by reopening scars. On top of other things. And you — were on a ship, you know. For a while. And you sweat a lot. And you don’t take the multivitamins I give you.”

“Because they’re gross,” Nico says, breathless, “and I’m not — sweaty.”

Wherever sunlight touches Will’s skin he tends to glow, slightly, and his freckles fluoresce the longer his hand takes to traverse the space between them, past the open window, resting, lightly, on Nico’s wrist.

“You are,” he says, gently. “You have — really low magnesium and potassium levels. Just, all the time.” He glances down at the inside of Nico’s wrist. “Right now, actually. Will you eat a banana if I go get you one?”

Will will go get a banana, and Nico will follow him, and they will sit, somewhere, probably the big rock by the lake, as Nico eats it, and Will will eat his peach, and Nico will watch his throat bob, and Will will talk, hands gesturing, peach juice everywhere, and they will stay there, probably, way past sunset, right till curfew, and then they will sprint, as they usually do, to avoid the harpies, and they will go to Nico’s cabin, first, because they always do, and Will will snag an orange as they run past the fruit trees by the Demeter cabin, and he will press it into Nico’s hands, firmly, smiling as he says goodnight, and running back to his own cabin. Where he will, according to Kayla, pace, and worry. Where he will rant about Limits, and how close Nico is to approaching them.

“Will,” says Nico seriously, grabbing his hands. Will’s eyes snap to his, wide, wider than usual, and they are so blue, so so blue, are things usually this blue? He’s startled by it every time. “Will, I am a sine function.”

“I don’t understand,” he admits.

Nico nods. “That’s okay! Just — peaches.” He reaches out and pats the fruit, curling Will’s fingers around them. “For you. Okay?”

Will glances down at the peach. He glances back up at Nico. He looks down, finally, at their hands, twined around the fruit, and holds there, one, two, three seconds.

“Oh,” he says, finally. “Oh, you don’t — oh.”

“Peaches,” Nico repeats, “oranges.” He pulls one hand free and draws a line between them. “You get it?”

“I get it,” Will says, softly. He looks up and smiles, small, private; too-big front teeth just barely peeling out. “You never reach your approached value.”

“I really don’t even get that close.”

“I’m kind of losing the metaphor, here.”

“Okay.”

Nico squeezes their hands together. Will squeezes back, shifting his weight.

“I’m still gonna — you still gotta get your vitamin C.”

“More oranges?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” He rubs his finger over the backs of Will’s knuckles; he shivers. Nico meets his eyes and he smiles, widely, hurting his cheeks, and Will smiles back, and he rocks, and Nico is an abyss, and he is falling, falling, falling. “I like oranges.”

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jflemings · 2 days

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— loose lips sink ships pt2

pairing: jessie fleming x reader part 1

synopsis: jessie goes out with her team and reconnects with her ex from college

warnings: language

a/n: with the way i’m writing this i honestly have no idea how long the series is gonna be but my hopes is more than 3 parts. (this is also shorter than i intended whoops)

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music pumps through the bar as jessie’s teammates down drinks. they’re occupying a corner and a bit of a long booth against the back wall furthest from the bar, tucked away in the darkness as they all happily talk and laugh.

she’s squashed in between janine and the wall, nursing a half drunk beer as she listens to her canadian teammate’s conversation. jordyn and janine talk animatedly about something, leading the conversation whilst quinn and sinc add their two cents every so often.

she takes a swig and tries to decipher whatever jordyn is trying to say in her half-drunken state when someone comes to stand just in front of her. she drains her neck to see olivia dressed in a simple black t-shit and jeans, her hair pulled back loosely. she smiles.

“how’s the ankle?”

“it’s okay” olivia says with a wave of her hand “it’s heaps better now but i still have to stay off it as best i can”

jessie immediately stands “do you wanna sit? i you can take my spot”

“no, no, that’s okay. i’m good standing”

the canadian still moves out of the way “are you sure? because it’s really no big deal”

olivia tuts “you haven’t changed much from college, have you?”

for some reason jessie’s face blazes at the small comment. she rubs the back of her neck hesitantly “i guess not, no”

the seattle player slides in front of jessie and between the table, the two of them chest to chest, as she sits in the spot that was previously occupied. jessie leans on the wall and nervously taps her pointer finger against the cool glass of her bottle as olivia looks her up and down innocently.

“that’s a good thing, y’know. you were always such a sweetheart, it’s nice to know that part of you hasn’t changed as you’ve gotten older” olivia says as she takes a sip of whatever she’s drinking “though, i didn’t think it would”

jessie tilts her head “you haven’t changed much either”

“good”

a beat of silence overcomes the two of them and suddenly jessie was really missing you. she’d settled into portland fine, but outside of sinc and janine she didn’t really have any solid connections with anybody on the team. you were always the more social of the two of you and often acted as a buffer for jessie in these situations.

“how have you been?” olivia asks “moving from london to portland is pretty big”

“i’ve been good, getting settled and such” jessie nods “it was just time for a change i suppose. i wasn’t getting the game time at chelsea and i wanted to make a bigger impact, among other things” she shrugs and takes another sip of her beer, her nerves slowly fading out of her “how about you? been up to much?”

“honestly, not really. same old same old.” olivia says as she finishes off her drink, leaving the ice at the bottom of her glass to clink against the sides “i saw that you’re now the captain of canada, congrat—”

“the wife stayed home then” sam interrupts louldy as she flings an arm around jessie

jessie grimaces at her intrusion “yeah—”

“wife?” olivia asks, directing her gaze from coffey to jessie’s unoccupied ring finger “you’re married?”

“they may as well be” sam half boasts for jessie “it’s sickening how cute they are, makes me wanna throw up”

jessie gives olivia a small smile “she’s just my girlfriend, we’re not even engaged”

“oh” olivia says “why didn’t she come out?”

“she, uh, she was the one you elbowed in the nose. she’s just really swollen and didn’t really want to” jessie says as she rubs the back of her neck “it’s not broken or anything though”

a look of surprise washes over olivia’s face as she wracks her brain trying to remember what you look like. she tilts her head in thought “send her my best then, i didn’t get to talk to her after the game”

jessie shifts from one foot to the other “i will”

“…so how long have you two been together?”

“it’ll be four years in november” she says shortly. this wasn’t a conversation she was expecting to have to be honest. the two of you weren’t a secret amongst the footballing world, to the players at least, so she had just assumed that olivia knew about the two of you.

olivia’s eyebrows raise in surprise “you moved on quick then” she laughs “we only broke up, like, a month and a half before you moved to london”

sam’s eyes rapidly go from jessie to olivia to back to jessie, a look of confusion on her face. she cocks a brow and takes a long sip of her vodka and coke, grasping the short straw between her thumb and forefinger as she sticks out her pinkie.

jessie’s lips fall into a flat line “i guess” she says awkwardly, taking another sip of her beer and eyeing janine. her best friend looks the two of them up and down with a blank expression before turning back to jordyn, sinc and quinn. jessie tears her eyes away.

“what about you. seeing anyone?”

olivia swirls the ice in her glass “uh, no” she says looking up at jessie “you’re not a very easy person to get over”

her words make jessie feel a bit off-kilter. she quickly looks to sam who concludes that she isn’t apart of this conversation and pats jessie on the back before leaving, going off to talk to the others. jessie breathes a short sigh of relief. her and olivia had talked shortly a few times over the years, like when canada won gold at the olympics and olivia congratulated her, but jessie never got any indication that maybe she wasn’t over the relationship.

she must be wearing her thoughts all over her face because olivia is quick to put her hands up “i meant you weren’t! there’s no ah— i don’t feel that way anymore” she rushes, looking down at her glass before smiling back at jessie “and i’m really happy that you’ve found someone”

jessie nods “thanks, she’s pretty great”

olivia nods “she’d have to be to keep up with you”

time passes as the two of them continue to talk and laugh, reminiscing their time together at school. the two of them fall into conversation like they’d stayed close over the past four years, words flowing easily and laughs bubbling.

suddenly, jordyn jumps up from her spot “photo! everyone get in for the photo!”

jessie rolls her eyes but turns around to face her canadian teammate. olivia shuffles over as people move to fill the gap that jordyn left “sit” she says as she taps jessie on the lower back.

she smiles and nods a thanks, squeezing in next to the wall like she had been before.

“jessie smile!” jordyn scolds “sinc move your head i can’t see quinny”

sinc rolls her eyes at jordyn’s demands but complies. once she’s happy with how everyone looks, jordyn takes the photos. she spam clicks her phone and quickly goes through them whilst smiling, clearly satisfied with how they all turned out.

this time olivia stands. she tugs on the shoulders of her shirt and turns around to face jessie “i’m gonna go” she says jerking her thumb “but i had a really good time catching up with you. i’d love to do it again whenever we can”

jessie can’t help but smile “i’d like that too” she says.

olivia places a hand on jessie’s shoulder before going and saying goodbye to her own teammates, leaving jessie once again tucked away in the corner.

she finishes off her beer just as janine slides into her, pushing her further into the wall. the two of them are now shoulder to shoulder “so, olivia”

jessie narrows her eyes “what about her?”

“i just didn’t know she was coming”

“yeah, she said she didn’t know if she was going to when i spoke to her this afternoon. guess she changed her mind” jessie shrugs “it was good seeing her”

janine hums “how’s y/n?”

“good. sore, but fine” she answers as she places the empty glass bottle down. “she’s probably asleep, she was in a frosty mood before i left”

janine’s eyes go wide and she necks the remainder of her drink, slamming it down on the table “i’m gonna get another, do you want one?” she rushes as she points to the empty beer bottle.

jessie cocks her brow “changing the subject, much” she points out “but no, i’m fine. not really in the mood to drink”

janine shrugs “i’m not changing the subject, i was just asking if you wanted another drink” she says surely, standing.

jessie rolls her eyes as janine whips around to go to the bar, stumbling slightly as she smacks her thigh into the table. soph and sam also stand and follow her, the three of them talking eachother’s ears off as they go.

the midfielder slumps in her seat as fatigue catches up with her. she closes her eyes momentarily before her phone buzzes in her pocket.

getting it out, she sees that she’s been tagged in jordyn’s instagram story. upon opening the app, she comes face to face with one of the group photos that was taken, a mix of portland and seattle players all squished into frame. her eyes fall to the end where her and olivia are basically on top of one another. she’s donning a proper smile, as per jordyn’s request, and olivia’s leg is almost thrown over her right knee.

she doesn’t think anything of it and locks her phone after liking the story, smiling and raising her eyebrows as janine comes back.

she’s careful not to hit her leg again as she slots back in between jessie and soph — who is now sitting where sinc was — and begins talking as she sits.

“ethan’s gonna come get me, we can take you home if you want? save you calling an uber or something” she says as she sips her drink.

jessie nods “yeah, that would be great”

“he says he’ll be here in five!” she informs jessie cheerily “which is good because you looked like you’ve wanted to leave since olivia left”

“i have not” jessie protests as she furrows her brows “i’m just tired”

“mmm okay” the forward purses her lips “it was good catching up with her then?”

“yeah, yeah it was. i haven’t seen her in a while” jessie says, a hint of nostalgia tainting her voice.

“i thought the two of you stayed friends after college?”

“we did” jessie picks her fingernails “we just obviously haven’t seen eachother”

almost awkward silence overtakes the pair of friends and jessie suddenly feels uneasy. she still felt awkward talking about olivia despite the fact that they ended on good terms, and four years ago. the feeling of nostalgia wasn’t one that was welcomed when she thought about her first love.

jessie had tried to date people in highschool once or twice but she was still figuring out her sexuality and juggling school and football, ultimately it just came down to the fact that she didn’t have time to maintain a relationship. it was pretty much the same for her first two years of college. she had spoken to a few girls, went on some dates and even let teagan try to set her up at frat parties. none of it stuck until olivia.

they were close friends in school and the feelings had just developed naturally. the pair of them agreed that if it didn’t go anywhere, then it didn’t matter, it just meant that they were better as friends.

only, it did go somewhere. olivia had become jessie’s first for pretty much everything when it came to a relationship. she was the first girl jessie had said i love you to, her first time, and her first heartbreak.

when chelsea ended up on jessie’s doorstep she knew she couldn’t refuse. they were a powerhouse of a club and with women’s football growing, she knew that it was where she wanted to be. olivia and jessie agreed that long distance wasn’t going to work and broke up before her move to london. the breakup was amicable and sad. there were a few tears after olivia left her dorm room and jessie in the silence, but she quickly picked herself up and moved on, promising that she’d focus on football.

then she moved, and covid was hitting hard, and she was still settling, and then she met you.

you, who had captured her attention immediately. you, who had left her obsessed after just one conversation. you, who she was sure was the love of her life.

but you weren’t here right now and she hated that because of your absence, feelings of longing and nostalgia had managed to bleed their way into her heart. she was sure she didn’t love olivia anymore — she knew she didn’t — but that didn’t stop the reminiscing.

janine coughs “well, it’s good that you got to catch up then!” she says as she, once again, necks her drink, making jessie’s brows furrow in confusion.

“you usually pace yourself better” jessie points out.

“do i? i didn’t know that” janine shrugs “ethan says i’m a sloppy drunk”

“yeah, maybe when you were under the age of twenty five” jessie says cautiously “what’s with you tonight?”

“what do you mean?” janine tilts her head and fakes confusion.

jessie rolls her eyes but waves her off, not being in the mood to entertain whatever game janine is playing when she’s so ready to go to bed. “don’t worry about it”

janine’s phone buzzes and she claps her hands and stands “perfect, let’s go then, ethan’s here”

jessie follows janine’s lead and stands to say goodbye to the people she knows and the people she doesn’t, waving on her way out to the car so she can go home to you.

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming imagine #jessie fleming fic #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fic #jflemings writes #jflemings woso

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moonstruckme · 2 days

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Hey! Unsure what happened but I copy+pasted a request into my doc and now it's gone :( Anyway to whoever sent this, thank you!

Request: can i request hurt/comofort with high!reader x buzzed!sirius (or poly!mar whatever you’d like) where reader smokes a little more then she can handle and he takes care of her but he’s like still a little high himself, if that makes sense TT just nice and lovey and dovey!!!!

cw: weed, greening out, mention of vomit/nausea

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 727 words

Sirius is trying to be comforting, but he keeps getting distracted by the feel of your back underneath his hand. The muscles of your shoulders are tight, your breathing stilted and your skin shiny with a thin layer of sweat. Sirius can’t stop thinking about how he’d like to rest his face in between your shoulder blades and kiss an adoring line down your spine. He worries it wouldn’t be very helpful.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice is quieter than breath, a soft sigh drooping your shoulders as you let your head loll forward.

Your body starts to list forward with it. Sirius weaves his arm under yours, settling down more comfortably on the bathroom floor and pulling you back against his chest.

“I’m sorry, baby.” He kisses the crown of your head. “I should have warned you about this. I need to remember to be careful with you.”

Caution isn’t really in Sirius’ nature, but however unwisely, you put a lot of trust in him. The weed you’d smoked tonight was a different strain than the one he’s shared with you before, but he’d forgotten to clue you in. You’d matched him hit for hit, and with your lower tolerance it hadn’t ended well. You’ve been sick more than once.

“You’re so nice,” you whisper. Your voice sounds tight. Sirius’ chest contracts, worrying you’re starting to get teary. “You don’t have to take care of me, but you are. You’re so, so nice.” Definitely teary now. “I’m really sorry for ruining your night.”

“Aw, sweetheart.” He kisses the side of your face with something akin to desperation. He already feels like his heart is going to spill right out of his ribcage, and your upset makes it about ten times worse. “You’re not ruining anything. Of course I have to take care of you, you’re my girl, you know? I want to.”

He peers around you, trying to see your face. You’ve got that same, slightly spaced-out look you’ve had for the past hour, a sad little line between your brows. Sirius reaches up to smooth it out with his finger, and you turn toward him like you’d forgotten he was there. He wonders if this much affection can actually crush his bones to dust. It feels plausible.

“I love you,” he says.

You sigh, fitting your head into the crook of his neck and shoulder. It’s not a happy sound, but he knows it’s not meant for him. “You, too.”

You take his hand, turning it palm up and tracing the lines in his skin. Your touch is so light it tickles. He has a small scar from a failed attempt at cooking with James when he first moved out, and when you get to it you raise his palm to your lips, resting them there purposefully.

“Can I have a hug?” you mumble against his skin.

“Fuck yeah, always.”

Sirius does the work of turning you around, your own coordination not spectacular at the moment, and your arms curl under his arms, wrists crossing between his shoulder blades. He thinks your hands might be making fists. For his part, he rubs up and down your spine slowly, squeezing intermittently, unsure how much you want. Sirius has always been shit at comfort. He’ll keep trying as long as you let him.

“I don’t like this,” you admit. Your face feels warm where it’s pressing into his shoulder, and Sirius realizes you might be crying again. He hugs you harder. “I can’t think.”

He feels, very acutely, his heart fracturing. “Oh, baby,” he murmurs, “I’m so sorry. I know it’s awful.”

“I’m scared,” you whimper.

“I know, sweet girl.” He may well be crushing you now. If your ribs are breaking, you don’t seem inclined to say anything about it. “You’ll be okay, though, I promise. I’ve got you. Just try to relax, and I’ll take care of you, yeah?” You don’t respond, sniffling. Sirius rubs your back again. “Do you feel like you’re going to be sick any more, darling?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

“Alright, my lovely. Let’s go to bed, okay? You might feel better when you wake up.”

You hug him tighter. “Thank you for being so nice to me.”

“Wrong again,” he says, tucking a kiss into your hair. “I’m not nice to you, I just love you too much.”

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foulphantomllama · 2 days

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My Secret Desire | AESPA Winter x Male Reader

AESPA Winter x Male Reader (POV)

Y/N is an abroad student from Europe. When he realizes he has feelings for his bully, Minjeong, their love-hate relationship made them push each others limits.

I will be releasing it in chapters. If you guys like it, i will make it as long as possible. And also I can take requests! Enjoy your reading.

The Exchange Student

It was always hard for me to go to school in the mornings. There were multiple reasons but the main one was my bully. Minjeong. But everybody was calling her Winter. Because she was stone cold, rude. Her attitude has a certain charm, I’m not going to lie. I guess this was the main reason I took the bullying for so long. I may be an exchange student but, i wasn’t really the type you expect to get bullied. After all, she was literally pocket size. I even can call her efforts cute. It was like taking a beating from a two year old. But little did I know that this cat has very sharp claws.

I had classes three days a week. So does she. She was not the brightest student, but she was always on time to classes. I don’t remember a single one that she missed. I, on the other hand, was pretty good at my grades and I knew my way around nearly all of the subjects. But still, she found something to make fun of me. But mainly me being a westerner. As time passed by, I get used to her attitude towards me. At some point I was addicted to her verbal abuse. She mocks my accent, my eating habits, the way I study. Everything. This toxic relationship started to grew inside me. It was just like I had found the motivation I needed to stop thinking about the choices I made with my life. And I was still getting pretty annoyed at some things she does but, overall, I started to fell for her.

Like I said, waking up in the morning always made me think about my choices. What the fuck I was doing in Korea tho? But I always ended up looking at myself at the mirror. Although my self-esteem was at its lowest, I was surprisingly pretty egoistic. Don’t ask me how that is possible. I don’t know either. Just like one of those mornings, I come to school, grab myself a freshly brewed americano and when I was on my way to the class, I saw Minjeong coming towards me. “Hi” she said with a soft, nice voice. Something I did not heard from her before. She got me. “Hi” I said back. “Look” she started to talk. I was nervous. Why I was nervous? “I’m so sorry for all my attitude towards you.” I was shocked. Did she just.. apologized to me? “Don’t worry about it. We’re adults after all, In fact I was starting to like it.” I answered. “Ha” she smirked at me. But that smirk was too evil and too inviting. She was fucking me up. Making me stand for everything I hated before. “So, can we just talk over there?” she said to me. I accepted. We started walking together.

After a little walk, we sat at a bench looking towards our building. She took my cofee off my hand and started drinking it. “Sorry, I’m so nervous.” She said. “I was probably never should have bullied you from the start.” She looked at me. Her face was to innocent to be guilty. But she was. I knew that but still, wanted to hear the rest. “Do you need something?” I asked. “How did you knew?” she answered back. “My father says If I don’t pass my classes this year It will be over for me.” “What will be over?” I answered. “School.” She said. “He says he will remove me from the school.” She put the coffee to the side. Something was seriously off. I could feel it. But I agreed to help anyway. She was so happy when I agreed to help her. Some of it felt insanely real. Was it real?

#aespa winter #winter #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #winter x male reader #winter x reader

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scarletwinterxx · 2 days

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your day - dad mark lee scenario

hi🥺 okay so first of all sorry it took me so long to write this, I swear I've been working on it since the day i got the request but the rest of the story wasn't coming to me and i didn't want to put out something I didn't love. but here it is😊🥺 i missed the Lee family too, hope you like it!!!

part1: day with dad mark lee

part2: another day with dad mark lee

part3: a day with the lee's

part4: (prologue) i don't know how to make eggs

part5: glitter pens and goodnight kisses with the Lee's

part6: first love and kisses

part7: naps and baby kicks

part8: then there was three

part9: just like you

part10: fool for you

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

and if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

The waiting game began a week ago, originally the 3rd Lee baby was suppose to come early May but the due date came and passed but no baby still.

Since it's your third baby you don't feel as nervous but Mark can't really say the same. He even made sure to have all the stuff you'll need at the hospital already loaded in the car along with the baby's car seat.

"You think it might happen tonight?" he asks, nose touching your belly like he can't wait to be close to his baby

"How will they get the baby out?" Minjee asks, she sitting right beside her dad watching your belly too.

"Me and mommy will go to the hospital, then the smart and kind doctor and nurses will help mom" Mark explains as kid friendly as possible

While you listen to the two, Minjung stays beside you quiet on his seat. "You'll be okay, right mom?" he asks you

You smile sweetly at your boy, ever the caring one. "Of course, I will be. Don't worry about it okay? Remember when Minjee was born, this time you can come together" you tell him, giving him a side hug. Your son stays tucked by your side while the daddy-daughter duo make chatters on their own.

"Okay everyone, I think it's time for bed. Mommy might be tired now" Mark tells the kids, picking Minjee up from the bed making the little girl laugh out loud on their way out the room.

Minjung stays behind, waiting to say something to you

"Mommy, I have something to tell you"

"What is it, love?"

"Happy Mother's Day, if I'm reborn again I want you to be my mom again" he tells you, this made you want to burst out into tears

"It's tomorrow but thank you, and I would love to be your mom again and again. I love you, always. Okay?" you open your arms and hug him. Giving him kisses, "My sweet sweet boy, when did you grow up so big like this? Don't grow up anymore" you joke, Minjung laughs at this. He bids goodnight then goes out the room to get ready for the night.

Mark comes back to your room a few minutes later to also get ready for bed, you've already finished yours so you're just waiting for him

"You good there, baby?" he asks while watching you get comfy with your pregnancy pillow. He wishes he can do more for you but for now all he can you is attend to your every need while you carry his child.

It's the third time but he's still very much in awe of you, he thinks it's the most wonderful thing to be growing a human that his and yours. He can't do much about the 'growing a human inside your body' part of it, but he makes sure you're very well taken care of.

"Yep, just tired from today. Are the kids asleep?"

"Yea, they're excited to give your their cards for tomorrow. Don't tell them I told you though"

You let out a chuckle at that, "I'll make sure to look very surprised"

You feel him move from behind you, then he kisses you on the head "Goodnight, baby. I love you" Mark mumbles, giving you a few more kisses and a hug

"Mhm, love you too"

You woke up a few hours later from a sharp pain on your stomach, sitting up carefully on the bed you wait a few moments to get your bearing together when you feel it again

"Mark" you say but the man beside you doesn't move

"Mark" you shake him again but still he's dead as a rock

"Lee Minhyung" you say a bit louder, waking you husband up

"Wha- what what's happening?" Mark sits up confused, one eye still closed

"I think the baby is coming"

"Oh shit, okay uh what do you need? Are you in pain? We should go get dressed"

"Mark"

"The stuff is already in the car, where are my keys though. Should I get you a hoodie? Snacks? I should probably call your doctor"

"Mark"

"Don't panic, we've done this before"

"I'm not really panicking though" you mumble while watching your husband scramble around the room

"Careful, love. You're gonna wake the kids up" you tell him when he tripped on his own feet, it's after midnight so the kid are fast asleep

"Oh right, I should call Haechan to watch them. My parents won't arrive until tomorrow. Where the heck is my phone"

"LEE MINHYUNG" your loud call got his attention, halting his frantic actions

"Breath, baby. You're panicking. Now can you get me one of your sweatpants and a jacket too, then call Haechan. Your phone is right there, the keys is by the door. Breath" you tell him, getting on your feet to get ready also

Mark follows your instructions one by one, if he doesn't he's afraid he might start freaking out again. He helps you down the stairs when you're both ready and wait for Haechan to arrive.

You're not feeling the pain anymore but your belly did get more tense, taking careful steps to the kitchen you grab some snacks for later while Mark checks on the kids before leaving.

The front door open, followed by Haechan calling out for Mark

"He's upstairs, checking on the kids" you answer when Haechan walks in the kitchen

"Aren't you in labor?" he points at you

"I think, I hope. This baby is due so let's hope today is the day"

Mark then arrives, checking if you need anything else before leaving Haechan instructions "Hyung, seriously I got this. I have a kid too" Haechan chuckles

"I know, but Nari is an angel. My Minjee, I can't say the same" you laugh at Mark's words

"She's unpredictable" Haechan says "She's like you, I have a kid like you. Causing me all kinds of trouble" Mark says making you and Haechan laugh

"I got it, I'll watch the kids"

"Sorry if we ruined your mother's day plans, Mark's parent's will be here early morning tomorrow. Thanks again, Hyuck" you tell him while walking towards the door with Mark assisting you

"Don't worry about it, wifey and Nari will come here for breakfast so it's all good. Your kids love me too so it's a win win"

"Thank you again"

"Happy mother's day, Y/N" he smiles at you, giving you a quick hug and Mark a pat on the back.

The drive to the hospital was quiet, a few more contractions every once in a while but nothing you couldn't handle. You got admitted to a room with no trouble and a nurse came to check on you and the baby.

"What a way to celebrate mother's day huh" Mark says, currently he's sitting beside you giving your back a gentle rub as another contraction hits you.

"How are you gonna beat this gift next year" you joke

"Let's get this baby here first then we'll talk" he humors you

A few more hours of waiting when a doctor comes in, "Hello Mrs. Lee, Mr. Lee"

"Everything looks good with you, but there's seem to a little hiccup"

"What? What's wrong? Is the baby okay?" the moment you heard the 'but' your heart started to beat faster

"All good, it's just the baby is currently feet first. Meaning they are not facing the way they're supposed to be. And since your contractions started hours ago and your water already broke, we're in a countdown here before it gets dangerous for you and the baby"

You're at lost for words so you turn to Mark, his hand is holding your the entire time to provide comfort. He looks at you then looks at the doctor again, "What do we need to do? Just please keep my wife and my baby safe"

"I'm afraid she has to get an emergency c-section"

"Mark" you mumble, "Hey hey it's okay, I'm here" he tells you

"We'll get the OR ready for you, a nurse will come here to get some papers signed and get Y/N ready for surgery. We'll do our best to keep her and the baby safe"

It all happened so fast. The doctor exits the room, you didn't even get a few moments before a few nurses enter the room. One talking to Mark about the surgery and a few helped you get ready.

They wheel the bed out of the room, Mark still right beside you.

"Hey, I'll be right beside you the entire time. I know this isn't part of the plan but you can do it" he kisses you on the head

"I'm scared" you say for the first time and this breaks Mark's heart. He wishes there was a way to transfer your pain to him, he'd take it all for you.

"I know, baby. I won't leave okay? I'll be with you. You'll be fine" he assures you. No matter how many times your doctor and all the nurses assured you you'll be fine, only Mark's got you to calm down a bit.

They got you ready for the surgery while Mark waits outside, waiting for one of the nurses to call him. When he got the go signal, he walks in to see you lying down with a curtain in the middle blocking the view of the doctors and nurses helping to get the baby out

"Hey you, how are you feeling?" he asks quietly, running his thumb on your cheek to give some comfort

"Scared, but better now you're here. I just want the baby to come out safe and healthy" you tell him

"They're working on it now, tell me if you're feeling anything weird okay?"

"Mark baby, I'm literally cut open right now while they're trying to get your kid out of me" you joke

"You know what I mean, glad to hear you cracking a joke at a time like this"

You smile at your husband, even though you're really scared right now seeing him and knowing he's there for you is enough to ease your mind. You trust Mark to make sure you're going be all right.

"Okay, the baby's here just a moment okay I see the feet, body out a little more" you hear your doctor say then in a few seconds you hear it

"head out, baby's here and it's a boy. Look momma look" the nurses put the curtain down to show the baby, Mark helped you lean your head up to see. Both of you getting teary eyed, you look over at Mark to see him looking at the baby with the familiar lovestruck look in his eyes.

Seeing him like this, to witness him being the best father to your kids everyday, like life is being brought into him at this very moment is making you think every moment is worth it no matter how scary it is. You love being the mother of his kids as much as he loves being a father to them.

Mark then looks at you, tears already falling down his cheeks "We have another boy, oh my gosh. You did so so good baby, I'm so proud of you. He's perfect" he leans down to kiss you on the cheek

"It's a healthy baby boy, dad would you mind walking here to cut the cord"

While the doctor finishes surgery, Mark stands on the side with baby boy. They hand him the little bundle of joy after checking everything, "You can hold him while we wait for mom, then we can stay in the recovery room then someone will come and check again on baby and mommy. When we get the clearance, you can go back to your room" the nurse explains

The baby in Mark's arm fusses but Mark expertly hushes and rocks him, his son immediately finding comfort in his father's arm

"You're an expert" the nurse compliments him

"We got two more at home" he proudly says

A few hours passed before you got the okay signal to go back to your room. The baby is currently sleeping in his crib while you get some rest. You didn't expect to feel this tired after surgery but you feel so drained

Mark went outside to get some food for you and him, you weren't really asleep you were just resting your eyes when you heard the door open and close

"Oh shit, you're asleep" you hear your husband mumble

"Language, there's a baby there" you tell him, opening your eyes only to see him holding a big bouquet of flowers

"Happy Mother's Day, my love" he walks towards you, putting the flowers down somewhere safe before handing you a paperbag

"What's this?"

"Your mother's day gift and push present"

"I thought that was my push present" you point your lips at the sleeping baby

Mark chuckles, urging you to open the bag. You carefully do so, feeling a velvet box inside "Minhyung, what is this?"

"Open it" he smiles at you, he watches you flip the box open. Inside is a ring somewhen similar to your engagement ring with a few details different

"Mark Lee, you did not. This is-" "You deserve it, baby. Plus we've always talked about giving your rings to your son someday and since we have two sons now I thought you will need another ring"

"Did you really buy this and hope for a boy?" you joked

"Nah, I have a back up just in case"

"I can't believe it, we have two boys. I know Minjung will be so excited, but Minjee will be elated to know she's still the only princess"

Mark chuckles at that, seating gently by your side while the two of you watch your newborn son.

"He got your nose, it's so cute" he mumbles "Got your cheeks though, just like Minjung and Jee, I hope he got your eyes too. I love your eyes" you tell him, resting your head on his shoulder

"You tired? go get some rest, baby. I'll take care of him, let me know too if you're feeling anything okay?" he tells you, helping you settle on the bed

"Mark, I love you"

He looks down at you, getting cozy on the bed with your drowsy but beautiful eyes he loves so much. "I love you more, baby. I'm so proud of you, you superwoman"

"Couldn't have done it without you"

"You would've have, you could but you don't have to. As long as I'm here you don't have to do anything by yourself. I know you're the strongest and bravest woman, and I'm in awe of you everyday. But in this lifetime, you got me always" he leans down, giving you sweet kiss.

"Oh and I thought of a name for him"

"Do tell, my lady" he indulges you. You actually named all of your kids, ofcourse you tell him first to make sure you both like it. But he leaves it up to you, his reason being the kids will get his surname anyways so he lets you think of their names, Minjung and Minjee.

"Minsu, I read somewhere it means gentle. Minjung, Minjee and Minsu" you smile at your kids' name

"Minjung, Minjee and Minsu Lee. I love it"

"Really?"

"Mhm, you got four Min's now" he smiles

"Is it too obvious I love you so much?"

"Nah, I think the three kids is kinda telling I love you more. Who knows, we'll have a fourth one" he jokes

"Lee Minhyung!"

#fic #nct #nct mark #nct reco #nct fic #nct dream #nct 127 #mark lee #nct imagine #nct scenario #nct au #nct fluff #nct dad #mark lee fluff #mark au #mark lee scenario #mark lee imagine #mark lee au #mark lee dad

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muchosbesitos · 1 day

Text

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝

pairing: suguru geto x fem reader, satoru gojo x fem reader

contents: some angst, sorta kinda follows canon, smut, oral (f+m receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v, some marking (pls lmk if i missed smth)

synopsis: you and suguru are so undeniably in love and all satoru can do is wish for that to be him.

author’s note: one day i’ll stop writing angst, not today tho 🗣️

word count: 10.8k (i may have yapped too much, i’m sorryy)

"What?"

The word came out strained, the sight of Yaga blurry by your own tears. The paper in your hands threatened to fall with each shake of your fingers, the paper that you were hoping was just a cruel joke. But no matter how many times you forced yourself to read through the paper, the contents of it stayed the same. The words had practically imprinted themselves into your brain by now, yet you desperately hoped that maybe you'd read it wrong.

Yaga looked at you with a pained expression, "Don't make me repeat myself, please." You almost wanted to commend him for his acting skills and the dedication that he held towards making this a believable prank, yet you already knew at the back of your head that this was anything but that. That the words printed onto the paper were true- that the man you loved the most was set to be executed.

Labeled as the worst curse user.

You looked over at Gojo standing next to him, the same expression of pain painted across his features. Even his eyes seemed more dimmed down than usual.. if that was somehow possible. You wanted to shake him for some kind of answer, yet you could see your expression clearly mirrored onto his face. "No, no, you're lying. This prank isn't that funny anymore," you shook your head, almost as if that would remove the knowledge from your head.

How he could be that and still be the same man that wiped away your tears from the corner of your eye with his thumb, whispering silent reassurances that you'd be okay. That he'd always be here for you whenever you needed him. The same man who'd cheeks had flushed pink when he asked you on a date one March afternoon, dusting a cherry blossom off your shoulder as he anticipated your answer was the same one who'd murdered those people. There was no way that it was him, right?

As much as you wanted to delude yourself into believing that the information was false, the mounting evidence piling up was proving to make that task difficult. You knew he must've had a reason for it, that he didn't just go on a rampage for some form of twisted fun like many others had made it seem. At least, you desperately wished he had a reason as bad as it made you seem. The knowledge of this didn't remove the years that Suguru had spent with you, the amount of memories that the two of you accumulated throughout.

"I know that you both have fond memories with him, but you have to remember that he still has to be executed for what he's done," Yaga's voice turned into a dull tone, almost static as you tried to let the situation compute. He continued talking, probably about how to go about capturing him successfully but you couldn't bring yourself to pay attention to this conversation. The walls of the temple seemed to be closing in on you, every breath that you were taking weighing heavy on your body.

"Wait, we're not do-" you heard Gojo start off before Yaga dismissed him by saying, "Just let her go for now."

You weren't even sure when you started running, all that you knew was that you needed to leave. You looked up to see Shoko standing next to you, an unlit cigarette hanging from the corner of her mouth while she held out a sheet of paper out. She gestured for you to take it, simply stating, "He left that for you." You thanked her for the paper, debating on wanting to cherish it or open it right away. What if you regretted not opening it? What if it was something important?

Eventually your curiosity won the best of you, your nimble fingers starting to open the piece of paper. A small breath escaped from your lips as you willed yourself to try to read the words on the paper. "I'll leave you to that," Shoko told you before she headed out, her head peeking through the door. His handwriting looked messier than usual, almost as if he were scribbling the note in a rush. It was an apology, not an explanation like you'd hoped for.

Tears flowed down freely as much as you tried to hold them back, your hands gripping the sheet of paper. You had enough self control not to rip it up with the force you were holding it, wanting to savor the last item he'd left for you. 'I'm sorry' didn't seem to make up for the fact that he'd abandoned you, after he promised that he'd be willing to stay no matter what. You weren't sure how long you were crying for, only looking up when Shoko extended a tissue towards you.

What was his purpose of being a Jujutsu sorcerer?

Suguru found himself contemplating this question more often that not, the amalgamation of everything that happened throughout the course of the past year making his head spin. The own morals that he'd tried to convince Satoru of were starting to falter. All the deaths that had occurred becoming a taboo subject, everyone recognizing the efforts that they each put into maintaining the order of society without taking the time to remember them as a person.

Was all that he was meant for? Just another cog in a machine that wouldn't be mourned after his passing? A body added to a countless pile for a meaningless sacrifice?

Every single one of his actions seemed pointless in the grand scheme of things. No matter how many times he had to put up with the rancid aftertaste of absorbing curses, more would just end up popping up. How every single person he'd lost in his life had died with some type of regret, some type of longing to do something with their life. All whilst humans lived their lives blissfully unaware of the messes they create.

The only thing keeping him afloat was you and even he was conscious enough to know how selfish it was. Of seeing the small frown that would take form on your face after he lied once more about how he was doing, that he was just tired. Of only sharing small pieces of information about the big mess that was unraveling in his head, just enough so that you wouldn't be scared of him. Just enough to still keep you close to him. "Just don't feel like eating," was what he'd told you when you noted his drastic weight loss.

So when Yaga had called him into his classroom and said, "There's a disturbance in a nearby village. I need you to check it out," Suguru didn't hesitate to agree. As much as Yaga tried to reassure him that it was fine if he didn't feel up to it, that Satoru would take over. The train ride to the village had been quiet despite the amounts of people that stood beside him, too distracted in his own thoughts. Every once in a while he'd hear a, "So let me tell you what happened" or a "You would not believe this."

All so self absorbed. Disgusting.

The scent of burning flesh would be something that imprinted itself in his brain forever. It was supposed to be a simple mission, he kept repeating to himself. Just absorb the curse and go. But how would he be able to live with himself knowing that while the villagers thanked him, two little girls were getting crucified for the very same thing that he was. The blurry path that he'd been trying to navigate for months now seemed all the much clearer, every last bit of resistance melting away.

There isn't anything he could really say to justify his actions- not that he's trying to. But he was running off autopilot from the moment that he saw the two girls locked up in a cage, treated like circus animals. He could feel his anger flare up as the two gripped each other, whispering promises about how they'd be good, how they wouldn't use their technique for anything evil. How these little girls had convinced themselves that they were capable of evil was beyond him.

He was certain that he'd left close to zero residuals when he left the village, escaping off to a cabin in the woods with the two girls holding on desperately to him. A knock on the door startled him from that certainty, every single thought in his head starting to spiral. Surely if someone was here to execute him, they wouldn't bother with knocking on the door? Or maybe that's what they wanted him to think? He was running out of time, the knocks on the door becoming more and more persistent.

"Run. Don't come back," he whispered to the girls, getting down to their level when they walked over to him. He knew that this was to be awaited but he wouldn't stand for taking them down with him.

"But Master G-"

"Run!"

He steadied his breathing, clenching and unclenching his fists in an attempt to calm himself down. He opened the door to see you, your fist raised like you were about to go for what seemed to be the thousandth knock on the door. He let out a small breath of relief, barely registering that it was you in front of him. He'd come to terms with the idea of never seeing you again, unless it'd be at his death bed. Though, he couldn't deny that this was a nice surprise.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, watching as you stepped inside of the cabin like you owned the place. Well, at least you'd been courteous enough to remove your shoes by the door. "I'm here to see you, obviously," you responded, picking up the basket of food that before handing it over to him. You glanced around the small cabin, the space devoid of anything other than clothes and empty food wrappers. You made a mental note to pick up more food for him the next time you came over.

He warily grabbed the basket, inspecting the items inside before going over to place it on a counter in the kitchen. "If you expect me to have some kind of repentance towards what I've done, I don't," he didn't seem remorseful in the slightest, talking about the events like it was just today's weather. "I haven't said anything about repentance, nor am I expecting that," you assured him, taking a seat on one of the chairs in the living room.

"Then what are you doing here?"

What were you doing here? You'd convinced yourself that you were just coming here for an explanation, that you'd demand for some kind of answer and leave immediately. But it felt like being with him all over again, the same comfortability that you'd grown too accustomed to. You wanted to prolong your stay and bask in his presence for a little while longer. "I missed you," you managed to tell him after he'd been expecting an answer for a couple seconds, his face contorting into one of shock just a millisecond. Enough for you to notice though.

"You didn't misread the reports or anything?"

You shook your head before speaking again, "I'm aware of what you've done. I'd like to believe that you wouldn't have done that without any reason though. Even so, I still love you Suguru. It's hard to stop just because of what some words on paper say."

“It’s not just words on paper. People lost their lives because of me.”

You wanted to say something more, but what could you really say? He was trying to convince you that the same monster that the stories weaved, despite how much you wanted to believe otherwise. "Then explain it to me. If you think I'm gonna run away, I'm not. But don't keep me in the dark then."

He hesitated for a bit, almost as if it was worth going through the retelling of the events. After seeing you stay in your seat, he eventually decided to sit down across from you. "I've been.. struggling with wanting to keep non sorcerers safe. A part of me hates them with every fiber of my being, hating them for being so ignorant yet another part of me wanted to savor in the vulnerability that they also have," he started off, your hands clasping his as he spoke. He continued to tell you what happened, your fingers gently grazing over his skin as a form of reassurance.

Two girls came out of the bedroom, timidly shuffling their feet against the wooden floor as they walked over to Suguru. They hid behind his back, barely peeking their head out to get a glimpse of you. Trying to analyze if you were a threat, if you had to assume. "She's the one I told you about, you have nothing to worry about," Suguru reassured them, gently running his hands through their hair. With the way they leaned into his touch, you had no doubt that he'd be willing to protect them.

"I'm sorry about their behavior, they're not exactly used to people being kind to them," he spoke up after a while, seeing how hesitant they were to even move an inch away from him. "It's alright, what are their names?" You inquired, giving the girls a small wave. They hid their faces into the thick material of his robes, a small chuckle eliciting from his lips. He stayed in the kitchen where the girls felt safe, asking about the students from the school and answering your own questions. Whether it be about the girls or about him.

You stood by the door, unwilling to leave just yet even if you could tell that Suguru was aching for you to return back to the school. "Just have a little faith in me, please," you told him just low enough to reach only his ears. Though he didn't verbally acknowledge your statement, his expression softened just the slightest bit. "Have some faith that I'm willing to stay with you," it was a lot to ask from him, you realized that. But you wanted him to know that you had no intention of leaving him, even now.

Suguru found himself doing just that, your visits to the cabin becoming more and more frequent. Well, as frequent as they could get without any of the higher ups getting suspicious. They started off as friendly visits, quickly evolving into evenings spent with the girls. Whether it be playing some board game that just came out or watching a movie on the old TV mounted on the wall. Featherlight kisses turned into heated make out sessions after the girls fell asleep. He knew he loved you, even before he left.

But now, he was finding it extremely difficult to think of the future without including you. You got along with the girls fairly well after passing the initial awkwardness, introducing them to new shops that quickly became their favorites. It was endearing the way you took the time to memorize what they'd liked and indulge them in what they asked from you. "She makes you happy and she's nice to you, we wouldn't oppose to it," Nanako had told him when he brought up the idea of marriage to the two of them.

You'd come home from a shopping trip with the girls, finding their behavior to be a bit too suspicious for it to be normal. They'd pushed you to get your nails done and get some new clothes- a semi-formal dress and a rather expensive pair of heels that made you grimace when paying for them at the register. Every time that you'd try to coax them for an answer though, they'd usually end up bursting into little giggles and completely diverting you from the question.

"Thank you girls," you recognized Suguru's voice from the distance, your ears pricking up when you heard the subtle scuffling of shoes. "You can take off the blindfold now," you started taking the cloth off at his command, blinking a couple times to get adjusted to the atmosphere around you. The overgrown weeds that'd been growing out of control for the last couple months were trimmed down to a respectable height and fairy lights hung up from a couple tree branches.

"What's the occasion?" You inquired, stepping closer to him to make out his figure a bit more clearly. In the distance, you could see a small table set up for two at the edge of a small stream. "Can't I just treat you to some dinner?" You raised a brow at his question, taking a seat at the table when he pulled the chair back. "Well yes, but it just seems very impromptu."

By the time dessert had rolled around, you'd forgotten about the initial suspicion that had been lingering in the back of your head. He came out with a plate of cake, putting his slice down on the table before placing yours down in front of you. "Before you start eating the cake, please read the frosting," he told you before he went to take a seat. You complied with his request, reading in the girls' sloppy handwriting- Will you marry me?

"Wait what?" You asked, looking up from the cake to where Suguru was supposed to be sitting. Your eyes widened slightly at the sight of him on one knee, holding out a ring. "It's not much.. but I promise to love you and cherish you. To continue to fulfill my promise of staying by your side."

You didn't trust the words to come out of your mouth without the syllables coming out all broken, simply nodding. Of course, that wouldn't do for Suguru. "C'mon baby, let me hear it. Let me hear that you agree to be my wife," he tried to coax out a verbal response out of you, relishing in seeing you in such a state. "Yes, I'll marry you," you responded after a couple seconds, willing the excitement to die down. He placed the ring on your finger, placing a kiss on your hand when he went to stand up.

Enchanting.

That was the only word Suguru had in mind when it came to you, the sight of you almost too much to bear at times. It wasn't just you, no. It was all the little parts of yourself that he loved, even those parts of yourself that you hated. He'd never thought of himself as a loving person but you just made him want to cherish you as long as he possibly could. He was stupid enough to think that he could've ever gotten over you. No matter how many years passed by, he was certain that the love he felt for you would never dim.

The sight of Mimiko and Nanako tossing flowers down the altar had almost been too much for his heart to bear, especially with the grin that the girls carried on their face. It truly melted his heart that they were so accepting to include you in their small family. Everything about this wedding was almost like a fairytale brought to life. He'd almost expected to wake up from this dream, yet the moment never came. You were truly a vision brought to life and now you were doing him the honor of being his wife. His.

You stepped onto the altar next to him, the moment seeming all too real when you stepped up. He could hear his heartbeat ringing through his ears, the anticipation of having the honor to call himself your husband seeping through. "Don't cry," Suguru could almost hear Satoru's retort, the thought fleeting as he rolled his eyes. Though Imaginary Satoru did hold a valid point, just seeing you was too much to bear. The dress fit you like a glove, accentuating every curve and contour of your body.

Despite having the area sanitized thoroughly before the ceremony, to the point where the smell of Lysol was starting to get intoxicating, he still couldn't help but feel a sense of annoyance running through him. He almost felt offended by all the humans peering up at you, though he knew that inviting them was something done more than obligation than out of his good graces. They needed to know that your command meant just as much as his did now. He'd have you all to himself after this ceremony was over, at least.

"Do you take Geto Suguru as your lawfully wedded husband?" The priest's voice bellowed through the quiet church, so quiet you thought he could hear your heartbeat. You glanced over at your soon-to-be husband, noting the way he anxiously waited for your response. He looked normal to the rest of the crowd, but you caught the way his teeth dug into his bottom lip in anticipation.

You took a pause for dramatic effect, having already planned out this moment in your head a few years back. "I do," your voice echoed through the church, cheers coming from the crowd. Though most of them were dramatized out of fear of getting reprimanded by Suguru, you could tell that at least. Still, you found yourself unable to stop smiling the second his fingers traced your own as he slid the gold band onto your ring finger. "Had me worried there for a second, sweetheart."

"Have to keep you on your toes even now," you teased him, letting out a small yelp when he pinched your side. He could hardly wait to kiss you, barely hanging onto the priest's words before leaning in and swiftly pressing his lips against yours. He wrapped his hands around your waist, keeping you steady while he kissed you with so much desperation. It was a miracle how he managed to last this long without doing so. It was like you were begging to be kissed with the little glances you gave at him throughout the ceremony.

Gojo couldn't bring himself to go to the wedding, instead choosing to look through the windows outside while the ceremony came to a close. He'd had to face some of the dirty looks from some of the guests, though he assured them that he was just gardening. Not completely sure if they believed him though, since he hadn't met a gardener who did their job in a ¥250,000 shirt. Even if they didn't believe him, they at least managed to leave him alone to his peering.

Truth was, Gojo missed him. More than he was willing to admit to himself and anybody around him. He missed the meaningless conversations that they'd have, talking about whatever stupid thing they had to deal with. He longed just to have one of those conversations again, to just ask how his day had been without the awkward pause that reminded the both of them of the difference between the two of them. That Gojo would inevitably have to be the one to carry out his death sentence.

The title hung on him heavy, the thought of having to kill his best friend one that he couldn't even fathom. It made him sick to his stomach every time he pondered on it too long, though his excuses to the higher ups were starting to run out. "I don't have a trace of him." or "I wasn't able to find him." All excuses to prolong the sentence. They'd even started to question his ability with the six eyes if he couldn't even find out where his best friend was.

He wasn't aware of the tear drop running down his cheek, quickly wiping it away before anyone who might've been lingering around caught a glimpse. Nobody needed to know that the strongest had a weakness when it came to Suguru, he was supposed to be indestructible. Untouchable. Every single part of that facade crumbled away the second that Suguru left, leaving simply the shell of the strongest sorcerer alive. No one else would perceive quite as well, he knew that much.

Suguru intertwined his hand with yours, the two of you walking out of the church in perfect synchrony. That was, until the two of you got outside. It was subtle, something that he shouldn't have even captured. But in the distance, he got a whiff of Satoru's residuals. He knew the scent just as much as he knew his own, unable to forget about it no matter how much he wanted to. "You okay?" you asked, waiting for him by edge of the car the two of you would take to the hotel.

He'd felt Satoru's presence throughout the last decade, never as overwhelming as this time though. It always felt like he caught a whiff of him too late, like he was just out of reach. He glanced around at the areas surrounding the church, wanting to see if he could catch up to Satoru before he'd left. All he saw were the photographers that you'd hired swarming around the two of you to catch your photos. He wondered if the photographers had even managed to capture any candid photos.

Either way, he'd find out soon enough.

"All good," he responded, walking over to you and taking your hand. Though he couldn't put his finger on why exactly Satoru had bothered to show up, he knew that he wouldn't face him alone. He opened the car door for you, making sure that every last bit of your dress had bunched up on the carpet before closing the door. The driver took off as soon as Suguru got in the car, heading to the hotel he'd been instructed to go.

The atmosphere of the room changed immediately when you and Suguru stepped into the room, his lips immediately claiming yours in a fervor. He kissed so desperately, like he needed to consume every last bit of you. It was more a clash of tongue and teeth, though it conveyed clearly what he'd been waiting for since the start of this ceremony. Even with the wedding band around your finger, he was determined to mark you up as his.

His teeth sunk into the skin of your neck just hard enough to leave a mark, his tongue following suit as a way to ease the sting. His hands rubbed small circles on your hips as he held you into place, his lips moving further down. He nipped at your collarbone, pressing a couple kisses here and there before moving onto your chest. The access was somewhat restricted due to the heavy material of your dress, but oddly enough, he managed to make it work.

Well that was, until he got tired of waiting. Part of him just wanted to go out and rip that wedding dress off but he knew that he'd be risking getting you mad within a couple hours of just being married to him. "I love you so so much," he sounded so utterly devoted, standing back up on his feet. He tilted your chin to face him, dipping his head down to give you a kiss. It was much less rushed than the previous ones you'd exchanged, yet just as needy. He probably wouldn't be able to last long like this.

Your wedding dress pooled at your feet when you got down on your knees, your hand sliding up to his crotch. The material of the dress pants he had on did little to conceal the bulge he was sporting. He let out a small hiss upon feeling you palm him, precum leaking onto the material of his boxers. You hadn't done much yet his cock was already begging for some type of release. "Already this hard?" Your voice came out almost like a purr, your touch barely there as you rubbed him through his pants.

"Don't tease me," he meant for his voice to come out more authoritative, though you could hear the subtle whine. You unzipped his pants, a wet spot in the middle of his boxers. It was surprising to see how much you still managed to affect him, even throughout all these years. You slid his boxers down, collecting the precum with your pointer finger before sticking it in your mouth. All whilst maintaining eye contact with him. If he thought he'd gone to heaven before, he was sorely mistaken.

This was his perfect version of heaven. There wasn't anything else that he needed at this moment, nothing more that he could ever ask for. He let out a groan when you finally took him in your mouth, your saliva coating the tip of his cock. "Oh fuck, don't stop," he was already a mess and you'd barely swirled your tongue around it. As much as you wanted to prolong this, your patience was wearing just as thin as his was. You bobbed your head on his cock, hollowing your cheeks out to get more of it in there.

Your tongue slid down to his frenulum, a shiver running down his spine at the sensation. "That's it, don't stop," his hand came to the back of your head, simply as a means of support. Your hands were smaller than his, but the way that they felt wrapped around his cock was angelic. You were jerking him off with one hand, the other fondling his balls as you sucked on the tip. The small moans you let out vibrated throughout his being, making it harder and harder to keep his composure.

He was willing himself to think about anything else other than just how good your mouth felt, think about the disgusting taste of curses. But your tongue always found a way to bring him back into the moment. "Don't go zoning out on me," you spoke up, your tongue running down a couple prominent veins before you went back to sucking him off. Hearing you gag around his cock, spit drooling down the corners of your mouth while your eyes teared up. "Would never oh shit do that."

He pulled your head to the side when he felt too close to cumming, his cheeks flushed. He felt a small shiver run up his spine when you licked a stripe up his shaft before you got up, his cock practically twitching with anticipation. "Can you help me take my dress off? Preferably without snapping all the buttons of," you asked him, turning around to give him access. "Sounds easy enough," he muttered as he stepped closer to you, his dick hitting his stomach when he moved.

How he wanted to swallow those words instantly. "Just give me a second to unbutton all this shit," he grumbled, his fingers starting to hurt after what seemed to be the twentieth button. He could've sworn more of them seemed to appear with each one that he unbuttoned, the task almost endless. "I'm not one to question your decisions but was there not one with less buttons?" he inquired, small crescents forming on his fingers by the time he got to the bottom.

"Well, yes. But I'd say the anticipation was worth it, was it not?" You looked over your shoulder, a teasing smile on your face. "My dick's about to fall off from how hard it is," he muttered, letting out a small sigh of relief when the dress slid down to pool around your feet. You were about to step away from it, instead getting lifted onto Suguru's arms in record time. He laid you down on the bed, spreading your legs open like you were a first course meal.

He slid down the white stockings with more care than you would've thought, you'd been expecting him to just rip them to shreds. He tossed them to the side, his lips returning back to your legs instantaneously. He began pressing small kisses against your shins, moving his way up to your inner thigh before doing the same with your other leg. "Don't tease me," you grumbled, feeling yourself leak down onto the expensive hotel bedsheets. "But you had fun teasing me, hm?"

"That's diff-oh mgh shit!" Your hands instantly flew to his hair as he licked a stripe up your cunt, your slick overwhelming every single one of his senses. Your eyes fluttered shut in pleasure, his tongue messily swirling against your folds before he stuck it inside of you. Hushed moans escaped from your lips, your nails surely digging into his scalp by now. "Hey, look at me," he stopped with his actions, waiting for you to follow his instructions before he continued once more. He looked up at you as he went to swirl his tongue against your clit, the sudden stimulation making you jerk up.

He was quick to push you back down, not willing to have anything disrupt him from his meal. His nose bumped your clit as he buried his tongue to the hilt inside of you, tasting every last drop that you had to give. He raised his head slightly, spitting down on your cunt before going back to sloppily making out with once more. "So fucking good, should just spend the honeymoon here," he groaned against your pussy, his tongue leaving your cunt. You wanted to complain about the sudden loss of contact but the words died out when you felt one of his fingers inside of you.

His tongue swirled around your clit, sucking and licking on the nub as it throbbed underneath his ministrations. His finger was busy on working you open, your slick coating it every time he pushed it back in. "Oh fuck," Your fingers dug in deeper into his hair as you moaned, the way that he'd curled his finger hitting your g-spot. He pushed in another finger, working them both at the same time in a scissoring motion to open you up. It'd take more than just that to get you to stretch enough for his cock though.

Your grip on his hair intensified and yet, he looked like he was almost relishing in the sting. He continued sucking on your clit with as much fervor as before, if not even more. "That's it, use my face," he managed to get out, moving his tongue at the same rhythm you were starting to move your hips. You could feel that orgasm building up rapidly, your walls clenching tightly around his fingers. "Fuck fuck fuck, I'm gonna cum!" Your moans sounded like the prettiest melody he's heard, so close to orgasming.

Your release coated his chin and mouth, his eyes gleaming as his tongue darted out to lick it away. His mouth licked at your folds and slit, eager to get any last drop that he might've missed. He licked away at the two fingers that had been inside of you, never quite getting enough of you. His hand wrapped around his cock once he'd stood up, slowly guiding himself to your pussy. "It'll fit, it always does," it was like he'd read your thoughts, assuring you before you even had to ask.

Suguru rubbed his cock through your folds, a thin sheen coat of your wetness illuminated by the dim hotel lights visible. His hand went over to yours, holding it as a form to anchor you. He wanted you to feel every sensation of the moments with him, rather than letting your mind run loose. His hips thrust forward, the tip in itself already causing a stretch. He leaned in, holding your hand as he used the other to guide himself further. While he was lengthy, the majority of his cock was just the width.

He had to will himself to maintain the last semblance of his self control while he waited for you to adjust, waiting for the furrow of your brows to disappear. He pulled out when he saw your expression relax, gently pushing in deeper this time around. "There you go, you got it," his tone was so much more different than the sting in between your legs. His thumb reached out, wiping away at the tear that'd made itself apparent. He started off slowly, trying to get you adjusted to the stretch before he developed an even pace.

Your walls clenched tightly around his cock, your slick coating his shaft every time he pushed back inside of you. The sound of your skin slapping together and your slick was enough to let anyone know what was happening in the room. Not that it mattered, though. You were too focused on the man hovering above you. "Kiss me please," you pleaded, his compliance almost immediate. His hips never faltered when he leaned in, capturing your lips in a desperate, messy kiss.

"Faster," your voice came out in a breathy moan, the wind getting knocked out of your lungs when his hips snapped against yours. Your pussy enveloped his cock so well, the tip managing to hit your g-spot with every thrust that he made. "Perfect pussy made just for me," he sounded just as needy as you, if not more. His hands came to your waist, his hips moving rapidly. His head leaned back, too overwhelmed in the way that your cunt was stretching around him just perfectly. "Just for you, Sugu! Just you!"

One of his hands went down to the bulge in your lower abdomen, pressing down on it. "Feel just how fucking deep I am?" he groaned, looking over at your frazzled state. You'd be lucky enough to have any coherent thoughts right now. "S-So deep!" you managed to get out, your voice uncharacteristically whiny. Then again, he was the only one that could reduce you into a puddle with only so much as a touch. His heavy balls slapped against your ass with every thrust, so ready to fill you up with his cum at any minute.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, your ankle digging into his ass to push him all the much closer to you. (As if he weren't nearly balls deep.) His thrusts got sloppier, solely focused on the mission of getting to his own orgasm. His hand came down to your clit, his thumb rubbing small circles on the bundle of nerves just to get you as close as he was. Though by the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head and the way you were gripping the bedsheets, he knew it wasn't much longer. "Fuck, right there!"

Your vision turned white as you came, your release leaking out of your cunt onto the bedsheets. He only managed to get one more thrust in before he was leaking inside of you, his cum painting your walls white. It twitched inside of you, his breath heavy as he tried to regain whatever bits of his composure he had left to maintain. He pushed any drops that were threatening to slip out with his cock before pulling out of you, careful not to stimulate you any further. "I'll be right back, hold on."

He went over to the bathroom, grabbing a fluffy white towel before slowly starting to clean you up. "You okay? You need a shower or anything?" He'd just come back with a water bottle, setting it down on the nightstand next to you. "Can you just hold me for a while?" You hadn't even finished speaking when he was already getting into bed with you, his arms wrapping around you. He held you tightly against his chest, kissing the top of your head. "I love you. Thank you for agreeing to be my wife."

Those moments of bliss were simply temporary. While Suguru had managed to clear up his schedule for the duration of your honeymoon with him, it was full the minute the two of you landed back in Tokyo. Of non sorcerers that needed curses to be absorbed, of payment plans that weren't being met. All tasks that kept you away from your husband. "After I'm finished with this last mission, you'll have me all to yourself again," he assured you all whilst pushing Playful Cloud into the worm he'd managed to tame.

"Please take care of yourself," was the last thing you'd told him before he went off on his mission, a chaste kiss placed on his lips. "I promise I'll be back before you know it," he whispered back to you, kissing you like it was the last time he'd get the chance to. Maybe if you would've known, you would've savored the feeling of lips against yours a little bit longer. Relished in just the warmth that his skin exuded against yours. Though you guessed that was the certain beauty of those moments, not knowing how many of them there would be exactly.

At least Gojo had been courteous enough to let you tag along to where he was planning on burying Suguru. It wasn't much, a sparse area covered in a heavy layer of snow but it would have to do. It was almost painful looking at him in this way, of knowing that he wouldn't be coming back home after this. You stayed by Suguru's side while Gojo dug up a whole, grunting to himself about how hard snow was to dig up throughout the process. "You idiot," you found yourself whispering to Suguru, unable to think of anything else to stay.

Though, in a way, it was somewhat befitting.

"Just give me a few more minutes please," you didn't need to look up to know that Gojo was behind you, waiting to honor Suguru in the same manner you were doing. Your hand held his tightly, the reflection of the sun peeking down on the golden band around his finger. You didn't have the heart to take it off, not that you'd know what to do with it regardless. You wanted to hold his corpse close to your body but you settled for just holding his hand throughout this process. So many unsaid things you had to say to him.

You just wanted to tell him that you loved him one last time. Forgive him for all the fights that the two of you had throughout the years, over silly stuff. You were starting to regret ever having gone silent after said arguments, wishing that you would've savored his presence instead. You weren't sure how long you were holding his hand for, but you moved away once you felt ready to. Satoru took your place on the floor, looking over at Suguru with the dullest expression you'd ever seen from him.

"You don't have to pretend in front of me. But if it makes you feel better, I can step away."

"Please."

You walked through the thick layer of snow to form a distance between you and Satoru, watching over as the two interacted. Satoru's head hung low, hushed whispers that you couldn't quite make out escaping from his lips. He got up after a couple minutes, wiping away any stray tears that leaked out. Even if he wouldn't acknowledge them, you could still see the streak marks on his face.

You were pretty certain that you'd never love anyone the same way that you loved Suguru. No one else would be able to compare to him. To how it felt to wake up to him in the mornings, your body intertwined with his to the point where you couldn't tell where yours started and his ended. Of finding simple joy in waking up, knowing that he’d be right beside you or humming a quiet tune in the kitchen while he cooked breakfast for the two of you. Nothing else would ever compare to those moments.

So how exactly did you find yourself in Gojo Satoru's bedroom?

You'd gone over to his penthouse after you went off to get the girls some snacks, not willing yourself to be at home just yet though. It all just felt too empty. Like you didn't really belong there without Suguru. Gojo had welcomed you into his abode, letting you stay there as much as you needed to. "I have this bottle of some expensive wine Yaga gave me," was the last thing you remembered from the night before you ended up blacking out.

The mattress you found yourself waking up in was like a slice of heaven, your body just melting down onto the plushness of it. As nice as the bed you had with Suguru was, you didn't remember it ever being this soft. Your eyes fluttered as you opened them, a steady pounding throbbing behind your skull. Not only did you wake up with a splitting headache but you woke up in a different room than your own. Wearing someone else's clothes apparently.

Surely, you couldn't have slept with someone else? You were certain that you would've probably burst out into tears before any action happened. Still, your judgement was severely faulty when alcohol was involved.

"Get your mind out of the gutter, we didn't do anything," Gojo's voice broke you out of the idea, a small sigh of relief escaping from your lips. While you still had no idea why you were wearing just his shirt, at least you hadn't slept with him. "So then what exactly did we do?" You decided it'd be the appropriate question to ask, still left wondering why exactly you'd been changed out of your clothing. Though the subtle pounding that seemed to rattle your skull was a good indicator.

"You got too drunk off some wine last night, spent half the night babbling and crying about how you missed Suguru. Spent the other half of the night dancing on my very expensive coffee table until you broke it. Then you wanted to be a cowg-"

"Okay, I think I got it, thanks." Just the recollection of those events was starting to make you debate never having another drop of alcohol again.

"You don't have to go home just yet," he spoke up before you had a chance to get up from his bed, turning to face you. "I don't want to overstay my welcome, plus I'm sure you have business trips to attend to and whatnot," you tried to dismiss his concerns, getting up from his bed. You quickly pushed the shirt down before it ended up exposing you. Just the thing you'd need to make this situation all the much better.

"I wouldn't be asking if I planned on leaving you alone. Stay a while," he reiterated, making it hard for you to find an excuse to leave even if you wanted to. Well that, and the sheer softness of the mattress underneath you. It truly did feel like you were floating on a cloud. "That's if you want to, of course. But we could spend a couple more minutes in bed, share some breakfast when you get up," he added, surely in a last minute attempt to not come off as too desperate.

You pulled the blanket back over yourself, letting out a small sigh when you sunk back into the mattress. "I'm saying yes solely because of the breakfast and the bed," you muttered, looking up at the ceiling to avoid looking at him. You weren't sure if you could ever face him normally after what happened. "Well that and the excellent company you have," he responded, letting out a yawn as he got comfortable too. "Debatable."

"I know you're lonely without Suguru. And it's a lot to raise two kids by yourself, so I'm asking if you want a companionship," you raised a brow, turning to look over at him just to make sure you weren't getting the wrong implication. Even if that was the least romantic way to ask someone for a relationship. "We don't have to do anything intimate if you don't want to. It'd be just for the title," he added, turning his head in your direction.

Even considering the idea seemed like a betrayal to Suguru.

"What do you mean by companionship exactly?"

"You'd be able to live here with the girls and you'd be appearing to events as my date. I won't coerce you into anything you're not comfortable doing. Just two people living in a home together."

"Why?" It was just the tip of the iceberg of the multitude of questions that you had for him. But it was the one that seemed the more reasonable to ask right now.

He twirled a snowy strand around his pointer finger, looking up at the ceiling before glancing over at you. "Well, I imagine Suguru would want you to be taken care of. Something that I could accomplish. And I need something to get the higher ups off my back."

"And no romance involved?"

"Absolutely none, nope."

"Alright, sure."

The relationship that you established with Gojo felt more like an agreement rather than the culmination of shared feelings towards each other. While the two of you tolerated each other enough to be friends, you didn't feel any connection towards him. Not much more than simply laughing at a couple jokes or tolerating his existence better than most, anyways. Though you weren't exactly sure if the other members from jujutsu society really cared about all that. To them, marriage was simply just a matter of status and power.

You weren't sure what he was looking for in this arrangement, if he just wanted some solace from the pressures set on him or he wanted some kind of an actual relationship. Every time the question was on the tip of your tongue, you couldn't bring yourself to ask it. A part of you wanted to ask why confine himself to a relationship with you when there were plenty of women who'd be willing to throw themselves at his feet.

So many questions that you couldn't bring yourself to ask him. So many questions that would remain unanswered.

You slept in the room furthest to his, next to a stuffed bear that Suguru had gotten for you at a fair along with one of his shirts that still managed to smell like a mixture of his cologne and fabric softener. A shirt that you refused to wash, needing his scent around you just a bit longer. Just until you were ready to let go. The girls slept in the room next to you, each carrying a little memento from the cabin. Something to make the desolate space feel more like home. Even if what made a house a home wasn't present anymore.

Satoru kicked a rock as he walked out of the meeting with the elders, his hands in his pockets. The elders had caught whiff of his new relationship (not that he'd ever call it that) and started prodding into the themes of marriage and of an heir. All the topics that he would've liked to avoid for as long as possible. All the topics that made him nauseous whenever he thought of pursuing them with you. Of having to run his hands through your body, pretending to enjoy the sensation just to give the clan what they need.

He could go along with a wedding, right? Right. Well, it didn't exactly matter if he could. He knew that he needed to. He needed something that would make the higher ups stop condemning him, stop condemning his choices. He'd make a big show out of it, invite all the different members of jujutsu society just to have them all shut up. First, he had to figure out a way to prompt the question though. Something that would get people to talk. Maybe he could do it tonight while the two of you were out at dinner.

"You look lovely tonight," the words felt less forced the more that he said them, extending his hand out to help you in the car. "Thank you," you responded, giving him a smile as you stepped foot out of the car. You took his hand, a featherlight grip on it as he led you inside of the restaurant. The whole thing just screamed expensive, from the chandeliers on the ceiling to just the food items on the menu. About 30 different ways to cook a piece of meat and caviar. Just a subtle reminder of how much Satoru differed from you.

"How was work?" You decided to ask after a couple minutes of uncomfortable silence, hoping that it'd be an easy enough topic. "Went to fourteen different funerals," he deadpanned, your eyes widening a little in surprise before he burst out laughing. "Sorry, just had to tease. We don't even get funerals, really. But work was alright," Gojo shrugged, taking a sip from the bright pink juice he'd ordered. You weren't even sure what that concoction was- a mix of dragonfruit and melon?

One thing did stand out to you though. The mention of no funerals. That'd been one of the things Suguru had said to you in passing before, making you wonder if they shared the same views or if he'd just heard it in passing. "And that doesn't bother you?" you decided to ask, waiting for him to finish taking a sip of his drink. "The funeral thing? I mean, it really bothers me when it's about people I care about. But for me, personally, no. I'm in people's minds either way," he responded, a cocky grin on his face afterwards.

"Ah, of course. The everlasting legacy of Satoru Gojo will outlive even the end of sorcery." You could hardly resist rolling your eyes as you spoke.

"Exactly."

You'd been busy biting into your food, almost missing when Satoru spoke up. He rolled his eyes before repeating himself. "Do you want to get married?" He popped the question in the middle of dinner, his slender fingers holding a black velvet box. He popped it open, exposing one of the biggest diamonds that you ever had the pleasure of seeing. The light above the two of you casted down on the ring, a flurry of rainbow colors surrounding the two of you. And even so, you'd be lying to yourself if you said you felt the same excitement as you did when Suguru proposed.

"Sure, why not," you responded, extending your hand out to Gojo. He brought the ring up to your finger, sliding it on carefully. Maybe he should've asked for your ring size first. And maybe he shouldn't have thought about how he didn't have to ask Suguru for his. "Sorry," he muttered, noticing that the ring wouldn't exactly go past your knuckle. He had half the mind to force it in there, but he decided to just slide back off and put it down on the table.

"Don't worry about it. I'll just wear it as a necklace," you couldn't help but feel a bit tacky as you put the ring in your pocket, the atmosphere in the restaurant tense. "Should we clap?" You heard in the background, amongst a couple of other chatters who were debating if this was a joyous moment. You wished they'd decided on the latter, uncomfortable by the sounds of clapping and hoots ringing in your ears.

You looked over at Gojo, noticing some of the same discomfort on his face though he was able to hide it with much ease. You couldn't miss the way that his lips twitched, almost contorting into a frown before he pushed way to force it into a smile. Always the entertainer, he gave out his thanks and a small bow. "Oh, thank you," he smiled at the waitress when she set down a slice of congratulatory cake, a small candle sparkling in front of it. He blew out the candle, setting it to the side before starting to eat the cake.

While you'd been responsible for making plans of what venue to use and the color scheme of the decorations, all Gojo had done was simply pass his card whenever you brought up one of the costs. At least he did it without batting an eye though. "Is that supposed to be expensive?" he asked with a teasing grin when you'd pointed out that the venue had run you no less than fifty grand. Even when the dress you originally picked out was a hundred grand, he convinced you to pick a more expensive one. To paint the picture of happiness.

The only thing that he brought himself to actually participate in was the day of the cake tasting, practically engulfing the samples in record time. "The red velvet one's pretty good, pretty sweet too," you pointed out, waiting to hear Gojo's opinion on the cakes. He turned towards the register, wiping any spare cake crumbs from the corners of his mouth. "We'll take them all, actually," he told the baker, getting up to go fill out the rest of the order.

You could see the panic on the baker's eyes as the order went through, surely wondering how they'd be able to bake some many pastries with such a time constraint. "Are you sure we need all these cakes?" you asked him pointedly, noticing that most of them were ordered to be made for ten people or more. Though you held no doubt that Gojo was more than capable of eating them all in one sitting. At one point, you just had to wonder what this man's blood sugar was.

"Yes, we do. I'm willing to pay you extra for any troubles this may cause," he turned to look at the baker when he said the last part, taking his wallet from his pocket. You were willing to bet that half the guests wouldn't even eat a slice of cake, leaving most of the latter towards the two of you. Well, mostly towards Gojo if you had to bet. He finished up a negotiation with the woman, giving her the details to the venue before making his way out with you. "I'd say that went fairly well, no?"

Gojo could feel himself getting anxious towards the date of the wedding, though he did his best to conceal it. He couldn't go through with this, could he? Well, maybe it could be an arranged marriage of sorts. Even that wasn't a reassuring thought, knowing how he had to fight tooth and nail with the higher ups to prevent that situation from even happening. But maybe he could force himself into enjoying the idea of romance with you. He'd forced himself out of worse situations anyways.

After all, it'd been proven time and time again that the longer he pretended to do something, the less it'd feel like he was pretending in the end.

He tried. He really did.

He forced himself to enjoy every caress of your fingers, the ghosting feeling of your lips when you kissed him, those intimate moments that never escalated into something more. But he failed. The feeling wasn't one that he savored at all, it was one that haunted him even through the darkness of the night. Every 'I love you' he'd told you had been a complete lie. He didn't love you.

He loved Suguru. The only person that was able to reach the depths of his soul and understand him, the only person that his heart yearned to be next to. If Suguru loved you, then why couldn't he bring himself to share the same sentiment with you? He yearned to be so badly with Suguru that he willed himself into getting married just because you got to experience that love. He’d lied to himself for years by saying he was happy Suguru found happiness with you, what’s a couple more years of lying?

In a way, he thought it would be like Suguru loving him. But he was so mistaken. He knew it wouldn't be the same, no matter how many times he tried to get you to act like him. You just.. didn't understand him at the same level Suguru did. It just felt like more of a disrespect now than anything. He only wished he'd had this realization before standing at the altar next to you.

He could practically hear the conversations that would follow, criticizing his ability as heir and ability to be able to lead the Gojo clan. It was what they'd done when news of Suguru broke out, anyways. And yet.. he couldn't bring himself to do this to please the clan. He just couldn't.

"Do you take her as your spouse?" The father prodded after receiving no response the first time, expectant eyes landing on him. Hushed whispers were heard throughout the pews, questioning the whole validity of the situation. If only the bastards knew. He glanced over at you, an expectant gaze on your face as you waited for his answer. After all, it'd been his idea in the first place. Yes. Yes. Just say yes already.

"I'd like to object," his voice echoed through the empty church, unable to meet your gaze. If he had, he would've been able to see the way your shoulders slumped down a little in relief. Truth was, if he wouldn't have done it, then maybe you would've. Just the idea of living a lie to be rid of your solitude didn't seem too pleasing anymore, even if you were surrounded by grand quantities of money. He calmly walked down from the podium, making his way of the church and letting the doors slam on the way out.

Your feet felt stuck to the ground as you tried to urge yourself to move, wanting to run after him. What would you even say, though? Demand him for some kind of answer? Demand him for an answer that you already knew at the back of your head? That he was doing this for the same reason that you were? You knew that you were in position to demand anything from him, just as much as he couldn’t demand anything from you.

You could feel the pity emanating from the people at the stands, pity that you weren't exactly sure you even deserved. This would surely be the talk between sorcerers for days to come if their gazes are anything to go by. They all looked like they were begging for this to escalate into something further even if their visible faux pout tried to imply otherwise.

They waited for a scandal, a show, a spectacle, anything that would be worth talking about.

But no.

"Sorry for wasting your time father," was all that you said before making your way down the altar, walking through the aisle. You imagined this moment would've been with Satoru at your side, congratulating cheers following the two of you out of the church. Instead, all you were received by was an overwhelming silence. The photographers that were placed outside had already left the venue, surely by Gojo's order. Well, at least it was one less thing to handle.

You looked around for any spots that stood out to you, noticing a bar across the street. A little ironic that a bar was right in front of a church but you weren't up to question it now. Though Gojo had expressed how much he disliked the taste of alcohol on various different occasions, you figured that was the first place he thought to hide in. You crossed the street, stepping in front of the entrance.

You hoped that the patrons couldn't see you from the inside, that they were blissfully unaware to the way that you paced around near the entrance as you willed yourself to go inside. It's not like you and Gojo were on bad terms either way, right? You wiped your sweaty palms on the material of your poofy dress (courtesy of Gojo: "The bigger the dress, the bigger the love." Whatever that means) before stepping inside of the bar.

At the end of the counter, Gojo idly messed around with the straw of his club soda. The scent of piss and beer made its way up your nose, reminding you that you were terribly out of place. You pulled your dress up to where it wouldn't drag on the floor, some jeers about being a Disney princess shot your way by some of the other patrons. You sat down next to Gojo, handing the ring necklace back to him. It took him a couple seconds to pick it up, shoving it into one of his pockets.

"I think we were getting married for the wrong reason completely. I'm sorry I didn't realize it before making you look like a fool," he told you, unable to maintain eye contact. He was waiting for some kind of reaction, but instead all he got was your silence. At least your stiletto didn't end up lodged in any part of his body. (He was silently praying it wouldn't resort to that.) Yeah, you definitely understood him on this matter. "Don't worry about it. I'm sorry too, I should've said something before we got here."

"To not getting married," he spoke up, passing you a glass of whiskey. There was no need for words, no need for him to elaborate why he'd done why he'd done. The two of you sought out solitude in each other's loneliness, not exactly the best starting point for a loving relationship.

"To not getting married," you clinked your glass against him before downing the liquor, reveling in the way your throat burned when it went down. The two of you shared a couple rounds, cracking a few jokes when the bartender came over to ask why the two of you were in here instead of getting married.

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phantomskeep · 2 days

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Putting the "Fun" Back In "Funeral" Chapter 4

AO3 | Chapter Three --- Chapter Five

Chapter Four: Gotham's One-Stop Shop For Villainy The first thing Danny noticed about this dimension was it smelled. A polluted haze hung heavy over the sky, casting the urban jungle in a dark mist and assaulting the halfa’s nose with the sharp tang of gasoline. Loud big-city sounds filled his ears as he caught himself in the midst of his free-fall, leaving the man distorted. It was so much different compared to his Keep in the Zone. To be pulled from a place of near-constant quiet into a realm full of honking horns, shouts and sirens was enough to have Danny reel his aura back in. The ambient ectoplasm around him felt sticky, and wrong, like the very air around Danny had been contaminated by something dark and sinister. He pulled his atmospheric spirit back, tugging where he could feel all the tiny little souls around him closer to himself. Bit by bit, his range of feelings depleted until he almost couldn’t feel the filth that surrounded him. Small pants left his lungs by the time Danny could only feel a tiny circle around himself that pulsed with his aura as he tried to keep a lid on his powers that desperately wanted to run free.

Attempting to ignore the uncomfortable feeling of not sensing the people around him, as well as the general unclean feeling of touching such disgusting ectoplasm, Danny spun in a small circle to try and get his bearings. The portal created by the Skeleton Key left him hovering over an old clocktower bathed in the haze of the city. Looking around proved to be near-futile, because even with his superior sight, Danny could barely see the street from where he floated.

The young man shifted the bags thrown over his shoulder, nervously looking around while trying to catch his breath. Clockwork had said his friend would be waiting for him, so where…?

“Hello, my King.”

A feminine voice caused Danny to startle, turning quickly to face the ghost that snuck up on him. The being before him reminded Danny of Shadow, almost. Their form was pitch black against the backdrop of the Victorian clocktower, constantly moving and shifting like a wispy fire. Piercing red eyes bore into him, causing him to nervously rub the back of his neck.

“Hi,” Danny spoke slowly. “Are you the one Clockwork told me about? The Spirit of Gotham?”

The ghost chuckled softly, moving their wispy form closer to Danny. A belated wisp of cold air worked its way out of his throat, letting him know another of the Realms was close. “I am, young King. You may call me Lady Gotham, the protector of this city.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Lady Gotham. I’m Danny Phantom.” He said, remembering the many hours he spent with Pandora and Dorathea drilling the proper mannerisms into his thick skull. Danny bowed at the waist, ignoring how the two bags he carried knocked against his knees. “Thank you for allowing me into your domain and protections. I will treat your lair as my own– with the utmost kindness, respect, and haunting that should be given to any member of the Realms.”

“I accept your gratitudes and give my own, King Phantom.” Lady Gotham’s voice was steady when she spoke the traditional greetings of the Zone, unlike Danny’s own unsteady cadence. Danny rose from his bow to see the other’s form in her own imitation of a respectful stance. After a beat, she rose from it to meet his eyes again.

The young king grinned at the shifting shadow in front of him, allowing excitement-nice to meet you to leave the tight leash he had on his aura to tentatively brush against Lady Gotham. A little trill of happiness left his core at the tender hello-nice to meet you-calm that caressed the small bubble Danny had created.

“Come, Little One,” Gotham spoke gently. “Clockwork has left you in my care until your tasks are complete. The ones who are mine have prepared an area for you while you are under my protection. We will head there and I will teach you the cultures of this dimension. Is this acceptable, King Phantom?”

“More than, Lady Gotham.” Danny continued to smile at his new guardian. “But, please, call me Danny. Or Phantom. Just- just none of that king stuff, please.”

A quiet chuckle emitted from the shadow before him. “As you wish, Danny. If we are being informal, feel free to call me Gotham.” She paused, swiveling the area where her eyes rested around to face to her left. The movements reminded Danny of the character No-Face from Spirited Away, a heavy swing of herself in a dramatic full-body maneuver. “We must head north to reach the lair I have created for you, Little One.”

“Lead the way, Lady G!”

The flight over was a quick one, with Danny’s ghostly guide fading from the visible spectrum before taking off. Danny followed suit, taking care to keep Gotham in his tiny bubble. As they traveled, he strained himself to see through the muggy haze that encompassed Gotham’s city. They passed large, towering skyscrapers with flashy signs, massive highways filled to the brim with cars, and Danny could barely make out dark water when they passed over a bridge. There were no immediate outstanding differences between his home dimension and this one. So far everything seemed pretty normal, besides the slimy feeling tingling on the edges of his senses.

From the past couple experiences Danny had with time travel and multiverse hopping, the man was expecting to see something like flying cars or gravity-defying structures. But everything seemed almost normal. Maybe this world wasn’t one of those crazy superhuman filled ones like the one Kitty and Johnny told him stories of. Apparently, their home dimension was pretty wild.

Danny almost lost his ghostly companion when she led him across a wide-open area filled with plants, though he caught up with her when she began to head slightly to the left. They passed more towers, more open areas with the faint sounds of cresting waves against land, until Gotham finally began to slow down.

“This part of my city is called Cherry Hills,” she said as the two ghosts hovered over the city’s buildings. “Many of the areas to the northeastern side of this section are used as housing, the western as warehouses, and the southeastern as workspaces or labs.” The older being began to gently fly further north, slowly leading them closer to the buildings.

As the structures pulled into view, Danny took in the sights before him. A large highway cut through the housing district, and he could easily make out the far-off sight of warehouses leading to docks where a handful of large ships were tied up. A freight train’s blaring horn was accompanied by the flashes of light as it cut through the city’s haze. The raised railings of a metro train track ran alongside the highway. As they continued north, the housing buildings started to look more worn-down, less like their shiny brethren on the east side of the carpath.

“Is this the area I’m going to be living in?” Danny questioned after a while. He wasn’t too concerned about the state of the building he would be occupying - he (kind of) survived the Fenton household for eighteen years, after all -, but the shock of being in a large city was starting to grate on his nerves.

“Yes,” Lady Gotham said as she began to hover over one of the taller residential complexes. “This is the one.”

With that, Danny could only helplessly follow where he could feel her plummeting through the building’s roof. When he crossed the barrier, he let his invisibility go to match Gotham. Her shadowed form lazed within the large studio’s space, letting herself barely brush against the floor.

“Welcome to your new home, Little One.” Gotham swirled closer to him, the edges of her emotions pressing against him in a soothing tone of welcome-this is yours-take it. “I hope it is to your liking.”

An awed breath left Danny as he slowly turned to truly take in the studio apartment he was presented with. The ceilings were high, with one side tilted at an angle to run alongside the roof. Two large windows let the hazy day’s light peak through the panes, washing the area with a gentle glow. A nice-looking kitchen occupied the space’s far corner, and Danny was only a little disappointed to note it would probably not see much use. An open area was broken up with a sturdy kitchen table sitting innocently next to another large window. The corner along the same wall as the kitchen area ran into a cozy-looking living room area, an elevator space acting as a barrier to the adjacent corner.

Danny was a bit perplexed to note that scattered lab equipment filled that space. Did Clockwork tell Gotham that he was a mad scientist or something? But Danny moved on to take in the staircase leading up to an open L-shaped platform. Floating up, he found a cozy-looking king bed greeted him, along with a computer set-up that would have made Tucker drool. He excitedly noted a window with access to a balcony with stairs leading onto the top of the roof was attached to the same wall perpendicular to the one his bed was against.

The young king zoomed next to Gotham, a large smile on his face. “This is awesome! How the heck did you get this all set up?”

An easy chuckle left the other ghost’s form, gentle emotions swaying between the two as they continued to get used to the other. “The people of my city don’t often question when mysterious jobs line up for them. It is part of their culture to not ask too many questions, after all.”

“That’s…” Danny paused, trying in vain to find the morally correct words without offending his host. “Interesting?”

A rumbling purr filled the air, Gotham letting a gentle pulse of amusement ripple against her king. “Interesting is certainly a word for it. Do not fret, Little One, no harm comes to them.”

The young man awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed that his worries were so easily spotted by the older ghost. He wasn’t quite used to having anyone other than the Ancients or his friends read him with such ease - having another do so, even if she was a ghost and Clockwork’s friend, was unusual for Danny. It made him wonder what type of relationship she had with Clockwork, as he had never before seen or even heard of Gotham before now. Before he could question her, though, she swiftly spoke.

“Before we get too distracted, I must inform you of this dimension.” She shifted her way behind where Danny was hovering, seeming to herd him towards his new couch. “Sit, sit. There is no need to be uncomfortable for such a conversation.”

“Wait,” Danny protested. “Let me put my stuff down real quick.” Without waiting for a response, he zipped up to his new bed. Dropping his duffle and Clockwork’s satchel onto the plain blue bed sheet before rummaging around for the journal gifted to him. When he finally found it, the young man flew back to the simple pale couch where Gotham waited.

It was an odd sight to see. A giant, angry looking cloud of smog hovering like an exasperated parent in a picture-perfect looking home.

“Okay,” Danny started as he landed on the surprisingly comfortable couch. He leaned back, relaxing against soft cushions, as he let his transformation wash over himself. “So what do I need to know?”

Surprise rippled across the air at the sight of Danny’s flashy shift, but Gotham was composed when she spoke. “From what Clockwork has told me, you come from a dimension where you are one of three beings who are more than human?”

Giving a small nod, Danny felt like his chest would explode from the hope-excitement-trepidation at what Gotham was implying. “Are you saying there’s, like, people with powers here?!”

“Indeed,” Gotham agreed, her voice lifting at the other’s obvious excitement. “There are metahumans, those with the meta-gene, who are humans with various powers. Others include humans who have been experimented on, had accidents, know the magical arts, or even been subjected to ancient powers. Aliens have begun to call this Earth home, as well. This includes those from Mars, Krypton, Thanegar, Tamaran…” She trailed off, staring at Danny who was physically vibrating. “My king, are you okay?”

“There’s aliens?” He whispered. “You guys have aliens?!”

“Yes, many of them-”

“Holy fucking shit,” Danny jumped up, coming to eye level with a startled Gotham. “Can I meet them?! Can I visit their planets? How many are there, what do they look like, do they have powers?!” The young man was trying to grab onto something in order to steady himself, but his hands kept passing through Gotham’s smokey form. “Lady G, please tell me I can meet them. Please, I will literally die again if I can’t meet actual people who live in space.”

A happy laugh echoed across the apartment’s space, the City Spirit being the source of it. “You are certainly excited about this, Little One.”

“Of course!” He exclaimed, waving his noodle arms around. “Space is so cool, G. It’s the greatest thing ever, I love it! I’ve always wanted to explore it, ever since I was a kid.”

“Well, you will be glad to hear that meeting the aliens who call Earth home is something you will be able to do.”

“Do any of them live here? In your city?”

“No,” She said, moving her eyes to look out the large windows gracing the two with a hazy glow. “The Dark Knight, a man who helps protect my lair, does not allow ones with powers to operate within me.”

A curious expression overtook Danny. His excited movements slowed to a halt, and he regarded Gotham with a critical, glowing eye. “Do you want me to take care of him, Lady Gotham?”

Calm-do not worry-amusement gently brushed against Danny, causing him to relax. “As much as I appreciate your protection, Little One,” Gotham said as she faced her king. “The Batman has this rule for good reasons, ones that I agree with.”

Danny’s metaphorical hackles lowered at Gotham’s comment. The piercing neon green of his eyes bled back into their usual icy blue, though the curious look did not leave. “Why’s that? And who names their kid Batman?”

Part of the City Spirit’s dark cloud tried to nudge him back towards his couch. “The Batman,” she began, “is a hero who operates to protect my city. He was born here and donned his cape in order to help those in need from the many criminals who call my territory home.”

Danny gave an involuntary awed noise. “So you guys have heroes here, too?” A dark tendril of smog wrapped around the back of the couch, resting gently against Danny’s neck.

The idea of having other heroes around was something that greatly appealed to Danny. Being the lone super-powered protector of Amity Park for so long took its toll on the young man, even with his human companions. It just wasn’t the same, being the only one with advanced abilities. He had to take the bigger hits, he had to be the one to save his friends if they got into too great of a bind, he had to be the one to try and take on the burden of Amity Park alone when they all went off to find their place in the world. With great power comes great responsibility, after all. And being the Ghost King? Well, Danny had more than enough “great power” to spare.

The thought was just as sobering as it was exciting. Other heroes, super or not, meant that there was something to have caused those heroes to come into play. Some great villain, or a world-ending disaster, or even large crime rates. Lady Gotham only said criminals, though, so maybe there were no supervillains Danny needed to worry about.

“Yes. In fact, there is a large society of both heroes and villains.”

Well, it was a nice thought while it lasted.

“But many of the aliens you were so excited to hear about are among those heroes.” Gotham continued, not noticing Danny’s sudden mid-afterlife crisis. “There is the Batman, who is one of the founders of the Justice League. Superman, Wonder Woman, the Flash, Green Arrow, and many others are all part of this superhero society - the Justice League.”

“Okay,” Danny was desperately trying to keep up with this sudden information. “So, Batman is a super-powered dude who helped to start an entire squad of superheroes?”

“He has no powers. The Dark Knight is just a man, same with Green Arrow and many others. They simply are able to keep up with the aliens, gods, and metas.”

Danny paused, taking in a breath. He touched his fingers together, pressing his palms flat. Another breath was taken, this one deeper than the last. With every ounce of teenage angst he still had within him, Danny lifted his hands up together to rest against his forehead before bringing them down in an arch that would have made Sam proud. “What the fuck.”

A laugh rolled from Gotham’s form, his guardian sneakily tightening her protective hold on him. “What the fuck indeed, Little One.”

“Okay, okay-” Danny’s voice cracked with indignation, “So regular everyday humans fight supervillains and are able to keep up with gods? And super-powered aliens?”

“Yes.”

“And one of those humans - who named himself after a bat - is the sole protector of your lair? Besides yourself? And he doesn’t let any of his superhero friends help him?”

“I never said he worked alone. Though, for a long time he did not have any help.”

“Lady G,” Danny said again with exasperation. “I repeat: what the fuck.”

Her only response was to laugh at his expense as he continued to moan about how he couldn’t seem to escape crazy people, no matter what dimension he runs to. The space shared by two multi-dimensional beings filled with an easy warmth.

“So,” Danny started after a couple minutes of his grumbling. “Superpowered people aren’t allowed in your city because one of your protectors is just a man in a… What, fursuit? A crime-fighting fursuit?” He paused, considering, before rapidly moving on. “But there are super-powered people in this dimension who are also heroes.”

“Yes, that is all true.”

The young man took a second, silently thinking, before speaking again. “Okay, okay,” He started. “And the chances that I’m going to have to just… steal all of these ghostly artifacts is pretty high, right?”

“Again, you are correct.”

“So,” Danny said, stretching out the word. “Chances are they’re going to think I’m some sort of villain.”

Gotham made a noise akin to two cars scraping against each other as she hesitated to answer. “There is a chance of that, yes.”

“Great,” he bemoaned, bonelessly flopping around his couch. “Guess it’s time to pull out the ol’ acting shoes. Welcome to Danny’s One-Stop Shop for Villainy.”

Foreign emotions rubbed against the sulking man’s aura, the City Spirit’s feelings of do not fret-all is well-I will protect you soothing Danny’s temperament. “There is no need for all of that, Little King.” When their eyes met, Gotham’s form had smoothed into a rolling fog compared to her usual flaking fire. “If all else fails, you can learn to have some fun with it. Many of the heroes and villains of this world have… gimmicks, if you would, for their respective personas.”

A critical eye was shot to the other ghost. “What do you mean by that? My ghost form’s already pretty gimmicky.”

“But,” she said. “You can always take it to the next level. I would suggest you do some research on the various powers who live within my city as well as this world. You may find some inspiration.” She paused before speaking with a teasing tone. “I also believe that Clockwork told you to blend in? Maybe a name like Inviso-bill would fit right in with the likes of Condiment King and Kiteman.”

“Absolutely not!” He screeched, waving his hands wildly as he bared his teeth. “How do you even know about that?!”

A purr echoed from Gotham’s chest, so fierce Danny could feel it vibrating his own core. “I have my ways, Little One.”

“Fucking cryptic geezers,” Danny sullenly mumbled as he pouted. “I don’t even know where I could get an outfit for stealing stuff, anyways.”

“Were you not planning on doing it in your more ghostly form?”

He stopped, eyeballing Gotham’s face area with a critical eye. The other was facing him, though more of her wispy form had started to curl around his shoulders like a lazy cat soaking up the warmth of the sun. “I thought using powers in your city was a no-no?”

“That does not mean you cannot use your other form,” Gotham’s voice took on a lecturing tone. “You just will not be able to use your powers in an obvious way. It would help to protect your identity, and I know that you know the risks of not being in one of your forms for too long. Clockwork, at the very least, informed me to help you keep track of your health.”

Danny grumbled a bit, remembering the last lecture he endured from Frostbite about his general health. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Can’t I just use my ghost form as is, then?”

“I would not recommend it.”

“Why’s that?” Danny inquired.

Gotham huffed, “Because, quite frankly, there are magic users who know about your coronation. Any being with ties to death - through magic or dying or any other way - heard the Song of Ancients as you took the crown. It will not take long for your influence over the Realms to reach here, and when that occurs they will know.”

“And then the jig is up?”

“Yes, then the ‘jig is up’.”

A loud groan left him, frustration causing Danny to get up and pace. “So, what? I just go around and snatch everything while invisible? Or in the Kingly gear? ‘Cause I don’t think my HAZMAT is the kind of gimmick you’re thinking of. Besides, wouldn’t either form just give everything away from the get-go?”

When Gotham didn’t respond, the young man turned to face her. The City Spirit was staring at him, not saying anything.

“What?” He finally asked when he couldn’t stand it.

“You can change the outfit of your form.” She stated. “Did you not know this?”

Danny nodded his head, “I mean, yeah, I swapped from the robes to my HAZMAT earlier - but I don’t even know how to start on an entirely new outfit!”

The older ghost let out a quiet laugh, “Do not fret, Little One. I can teach you how to alter your form.”

“Can you change yours?” The young man asked, curious. He knew Amorpho could shapeshift and that often a ghost could generally alter their appearance, but he didn’t think he would be able to alter his own.

“I used to be able to,” grief rolled off Gotham in waves, the intensity of it staggering. A dark cloud seemed to roll over the city, the weak light bleeding through the loft’s windows almost completely disappearing. “It was a long, long time ago that I was last able to.”

Danny reached out, letting apologies-you’re okay-I’m okay-we’re safe tentatively brush against his companion’s anguish. “Well, maybe we can figure out how to get you to change forms again. I’ll do some nosying around and figure out the best way to blend in so I can snatch some fun stuff.”

A thankful emotion poked through Gotham’s grief as she agreed with the young man before her. “Until then,” she started. “It might be a good idea for you to settle some more. I need to rest before attempting to mentor you through something as draining as altering yourself.”

“Alright,” Danny easily agreed. “Should I stay in here while you do that, or is it a good idea for me to roam around a bit?”

Gotham paused, considering. “You should be fine to wander, though I would suggest spending time familiarizing yourself with my occupants beforehand.”

“Gotcha,” he gave his new friend a small smile. “Thank you, again, for helping me with this. I really do appreciate it, Lady Gotham.”

“But of course,” she said in a tone full of fondness. “Clockwork has spoken highly of you throughout the years. I am pleased to see his judgment was not misguided.”

“Well, I’m glad that you’re pretty chill.” Danny happily moved closer to the City Spirit.

If Gotham had a physical mouth, Danny would bet that she was smiling at him when she spoke. “I will leave you to it, then. If you are in need of anything simply flare your aura. I will feel it, no matter where you are.”

“You got it, Lady G.”

And with that, the Spirit of Gotham faded from the visible spectrum. Danny felt her slip out of his aura’s bubble and he was suddenly alone in a completely new dimension. Which was, apparently, full of superheroes, supervillains, and everything in between. When the young man began walking up the stairs to where his computer was set up, the only thing on his mind was figuring out where Clockwork’s list of artifacts were and which hero he was going to look up first. That Batman dude sure sounded like a good place to start.

╮(╯▽╰)╭

The sheer amount of non-earthly beings that occupied this dimension’s earth was crazy. That was the conclusion that Danny came to hours after Gotham had left him.

It took flipping through old news channels, trolling internet forums, random fan blogs, and even watching a few interviews of various heroes for Danny to get a vague grasp of this new reality. There were some heroes that he couldn’t get a full view of - the Batman being one of them. All he could find were grainy photos of the hero and hints that he wasn’t the only vigilante in the city.

Which would make Danny’s job a bit harder.

During his deep dive into this dimension’s cultures, Danny flipped through the little journal Clockwork had gifted him. His mentor’s steady handwriting listed out the various artifacts he was going to need to find as well as their general location. Many of those artifacts, after using his shiny new high-tech computer to look them up, were located in public places or stored in secret, secure facilities. Yoinking the public ones wouldn’t be too much of an issue for Danny - his abilities would make it rather easy to avoid detection, after all - but he had no idea what a “Fortress of Solitude” was. Or even something as vague as “The Watchtower”. Seriously, some of these places sounded weird.

But others had cities listed out. Star City was obviously a town, he knew where Gotham was (duh), and even places like Themyscira were easy enough to Google. It was with this brilliant deduction that led Danny to believe some of the weirder names weren’t attached to a city at all which was rather worrying.

Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on who asked) Clockwork wasn’t one to steer Danny in a direction the old ghost knew wouldn’t work out. So with a healthy dose of blind faith, Danny chose to focus on whatever artifacts he could easily access for now. This meant Danny spent a decent amount of time casually scrolling through museum articles, even more blogs, and whatever else he could get his grubby little hands on. Honestly, it made the Ghost King feel like he was back in highschool trying to desperately write an entire research essay the day it was due.

The first item on Danny’s newly named “List of Shit I Need to Steal” was an item called the Hand of Greed. According to the Gotham Museum of Natural History’s website, the Hand of Greed was a statuette found in an Ancient Greek city. There were some general facts about when it was found, who discovered it, and how it came into the Museum’s care. The Wikipedia page elaborated more on the lore behind the dark statuette, though.

According to random people on the internet, the Hand of Greed had been found by Ancient Greek farmers after a lightning storm in a graveyard. There was more than a few forums debating on what caused the storm, where the hand came from, and even some people arguing that everything about the Hand was made-up. The forums then led Danny to a dead end - nothing had ever been formally concluded about the relic’s origins. It frustrated Danny a little bit. He wanted to be at least slightly more prepared for his first ever consensual heist. The half-ghost broke away from his hunched position over his desk, popping his back and yawning. The motions of this move caused his stomach to gurgle angrily, reminding Danny that eating was still something he had to do.

The young man stretched himself out, wiggling around his comfy office chair. “Guess I better get some food or something,” Danny mumbled to himself. His eyes didn’t move from where they were focused on his setup’s main monitor, where a picture of the strong fist carved out of black marble rested.

With a dramatic groan meant for no one but himself, Danny spun his chair around. He easily hefted himself off of the space, casually walking to where his duffle bag still rested. He rummaged around, grabbing his wallet before moseying his way to the elevator.

It wasn’t like Danny didn’t want to steal something, per se. As he smacked the “down” button, he considered the morality of taking something that did, technically, belong to him. It wasn’t like the people who found the statue knew it originated in the Ghost Zone - to them it was just an old statue with a weird story behind it.

The elevator arrived with a happy-sounding “ding!” and Danny stepped into the space as he fiddled with the bracelets resting on his wrist. He would have to make a plan to break into the museum, something the halfa was not looking forward to, especially with how little his research brought up. Reaching out, he poked the lobby button before resting his back against the stainless steel walls.

Maybe he could just go in invisibly? This Batman hero wouldn’t even be able to catch him if he never even appeared on camera, after all. It wasn’t like Danny had an identity in this world, anyways. Any hero would be hard-pressed to catch a ghost in the machine. The elevator stopped, doors opening with the same cheery noise.

But, even though Danny hated to admit it, he kind of wanted to meet the heroes of this dimension.

The young man continued to think about it as he walked out of the building’s lobby, not even taking note of the inside of it or the people loitering. Breathing in city smog, Danny pulled his beat-to-hell phone out of where it was resting in his khaki pants. He focused just enough to figure out where the closest convenience store was, slap a pin on his new home, and make his way in the general direction of where he needed to go.

Danny was honestly pretty surprised to see his phone worked. The shock of finding out that yes, his shitty phone did in fact apparently carry a multi-dimensional data plan, brought his attention to money. Lady Gotham didn’t really explain what forms of currency this dimension used, nor did he even consider looking that up.

Which he could solve right now, by using his phone that did somehow work. But where was the fun in that? He had to spice up his obviously too-boring life somehow. All else failed, he would just act like he was from a different country or something. There’s no way that could backfire on him - no siree, no backfiring here. And technically he wouldn’t be lying, either. It’s a win-win either way.

It was with these thoughts that Danny serenely entered a beat-up looking store with various ads decorating its windows. He had about twenty dollars in his pockets when he hopped dimensions, which would hopefully be enough to grab a sandwich or something.

Danny really, really hoped that the currency of this dimension was the same.

After the halfa snagged a decent looking chicken salad sandwich out of the store’s stacked fridges, he found it was at least similar enough to get him the food and a fountain drink. Danny took his change, thanked the cashier, and went back outside. The man leaned his back against cool glass and took out his phone to see how close the museum was to him. If nothing else, Danny could make his way to the place and do a little reconnaissance.

It seemed like something Jazz would want him to do, after all.

The GPS app on Danny’s phone showed him that the Museum of Natural History was down in Gotham’s University District, closer to where he first came into this dimension than where he was now. A forty minute drive by car, apparently, but the halfa was sure he would be able to fly there in under ten. With a small smirk, Danny stuffed his lunch into his mouth as he hurriedly searched for a decent alleyway to shift forms in.

Finding a decent spot proved to be more difficult than he had expected. The city was teeming with life - people spilling in and out of the streets and bustling across warm concrete as they went about their lives. It was after the fourth time Danny wandered into an empty-looking alley, only to find a shady deal going on, that he felt frustrated beyond belief.

It had never been this hard in Amity to find an unoccupied spot to swap to his ghost form in. The spaces between buildings almost never had other people in them, and even when there were all Danny had to do was make it to the next one over to be alone. Here, though, it was proving to be a larger task. People were everywhere and it was starting to get on the halfa’s nerves.

Danny didn’t miss home already, nope. He hadn’t even been in this dimension for twelve hours - he couldn’t break this early.

Finally, after spending way too much time trying to find a discrete area to die, Danny let his transformation sweep over himself. He faded away from the visible spectrum as soon as familiar rings of light sputtered out. He quickly shot to the sky, gazing down on the city below him with delight.

Yeah, it wasn’t Amity Park. There were people everywhere, it smelled horrible, and Danny could still feel the sticky ectoplasm of the city brushing against his aura.

But it was beautiful in its own way.

Towering skyscrapers outline the heart of the city in the distance, windows reflecting back what bits of sky peaked through the slowly lifting haze. Flashing lights rose from between the cramped buildings, washing Gotham’s people in hues of red and blue. The noise was a pleasant backdrop as Danny flew between the streets, a smile gracing his face.

He could see himself getting used to this.

Minutes passed as the halfa twirled between man-made structures, occasionally dropping down to listen to the various people as they went about their day. It was when Danny flew up to the top of a skyscraper, his whole being bursting with joy as he played in the sky, that he felt an angry pulse brush against his aura.

Startled, Danny hovered over the top of the office space. Warily, the young man sent back a questioning feeling - doing his best to keep his little bubble of safety. He was left waiting, anxiety slowly building the longer no ghost appeared on his senses.

Who had sent that? Danny wasn’t quite sure, but the only other ghost he had met in this dimension was Gotham. It had to have been her, but why was she angry?

His guess was proven correct when a black cloud rose from the edge of the skyscraper, sides flared like an avenging angel's wings. Startled, Danny dropped to the roof, taking a few steps back as his hands rose into a defensive position and his invisibility fell. Belated, a wispy breath left his mouth when the older ghost drew closer.

“My King,” Gotham’s angry voice crashed against Danny’s senses. Long gone were the soothing tones from earlier. In their place were sounds that made the hairs on the back of Danny’s neck raise up, his senses screaming DANGER DANGER! “What did I tell you about using your abilities here?”

“I thought that was just for whenever I was stealing stuff!” Danny protested, trying to recall their conversation earlier. “I was just trying to scope out the museum - the Hand of Greed is something on Clockwork’s list.”

Gotham snarled, her form twisting angrily. “No, you shouldn’t be using any of your abilities. The risk is too great.”

Hesitating, Danny warred with himself. On one hand, he didn’t want to piss off his ghostly host on the first day he stayed with her. That was just bad manners, and he knew Pandora would be disappointed in him if he wasn’t polite. However, not being able to use his powers? Ever, as long as he was inside Gotham’s city? That was just too much to ask for, in his own opinion. Danny could understand not wanting him to use his powers to avoid Gotham’s protector’s wrath, but on a day-to-day basis?

Danny wasn’t too sure if he could do that. His powers were part of him and he thought he was finally going to a place where he wouldn’t have to hide who he was.

At the end of the day, though, Danny wasn’t one to try and piss off his allies. He had made too many enemies over the years to be okay with that.

“I’m sorry, Lady Gotham.” Danny spoke, trying to hide the frustration that had so quickly overtook his fear. “I won’t use my powers in your city - unless I am in my apartment.”

The spirit’s form shifted, considering. “Very well, I accept your apology.” She hesitated, for just a split-second, before continuing. “I think it is time we head back to your haunt, Little One. I still need to teach you how to shift forms and I want you to be prepared for when you meet my protectors in a few days.”

“A few days?” Danny asked, confused. That wasn’t his plan.

“Yes,” Gotham said. “Did you not want to get settled before attempting to lift the artifact?”

Danny shot a confident grin at the City Spirit, his eyes alight with mischief. “I know we just met and all, but did you really think I would do anything else?”

“No,” Gotham conceded. “I will do my best to aid you on your heist tonight, but please be careful.”

“I’m always careful,” Danny sassed as he let his playful nature wash back over him. “Show me how to change my outfit?”

“As you wish, Little One.”

ヽ(ಠ_ಠ)ノ

Gotham’s setting sun cast an eerie, dark red light across Jason’s apartment. The rays washed over him, making it look like the man was stained with spilled blood. Dick had just set off with a cheery promise to see the other on patrol before slipping out the door, leaving his younger brother alone for the small amount of time it took for the sun to set. Soon, Gotham City would be cast into the darkness of night, with the city’s criminal elements slowly spilling onto the streets.

It was during the night that Jason always felt the most alive.

Before, when he was still living in a shitty Crime Alley apartment, it was because that was when Willis would go out. The arguments that came from him and Catherine would scare Jason more than the gunshots on the street. At least those were outside the safe walls of his home, but inside? To him, that was where the real danger lurked in the form of two angry adults.

Then, it was the streets. They had never been safe - but now that Jason was truly a part of them, he had to learn the tricks to stay alive. Part of that meant finding a safe place to squat, to wait out the evils that lurked in Gotham’s shadowed nights. The Bat was known for hunting and hurting criminals - something Willis had raged about more than once - and Jason was just a street rat who stole to survive. He had to stay alert during the lonely nights. Streets clouded in darkness just weren’t safe for a kid.

After the streets, it was being Robin. Fighting alongside Batman, helping give others hope and protection, and doing what he could to make his home just a little safer was like magic. He felt alive, freer than he ever had before that. It wasn’t just the adrenaline pumping through his veins or the thrill of leaping between rooftops, it was being able to help his home.

Jason was Gotham, born and bred in the darkest parts of the city’s heart. More than Bruce, or Dick, or even Babs could ever be - so of course he felt more alive in the comfort of night.

Then, he died, and being alive was never the same.

He was learning how to live with it, slowly but surely. The waves of green rage had originally helped Jason feel more alive, a little bit more sane while he struggled to figure out who he was. But even his own mind had betrayed him, at the end of the day. Basking in the pit rage had become an addiction, a high that he could use to finally feel again.

Within the past few months, Jason’s mind had been slowly coming down from the almost three-year stint of using the Lazarus Pit’s “gift” as a metaphorical emotional shield. It had been rough, trying to notice when it was the artificial rage whispering in his ear or his own emotions coming to the forefront.

Now, though? Oddly enough, even when Jason reached for the space he had learned the Pit coiled in, the green never threatened to take over. Throughout Dick’s impromptu forceful brotherly-bonding day, Jason hadn’t felt a single peep from the corner of his mind occupied by the unwanted side-effects of a green, gooey hot tub from Hell.

It was nice to be alone in his own mind again.

These thoughts raced around Jason’s mind as he went about the motions of getting ready for a normal patrol. It was odd, thinking the last patrol he had been on led him to the Batcave. Jason had been expecting to feel at least slightly off-center with the Pit Rage gone from its sulking corner. If anything, though, he felt more normal than he had in years.

As heavy kevlar fell to rest comfortably against Jason’s body, he noticed a bullet hole in the shoulder of his uniform. Eyebrows scrunched in confusion, he examined the damaged spot. That hadn’t been there the last time he donned his metaphorical cape, but Jason was pretty sure he would have noticed if he had been shot.

… He would ask Dick about it during patrol. Maybe that was how he ended up as high as a kitten on catnip?

Slipping his guns into their correct holsters, the young man snatched his bright red helmet from its hidden compartment. An almost feral grin danced across his face - the Red Hood coming out to play was always the highlight of Jason’s day.

When the sun had finished slowly sinking below the smog-filled horizon, Jason meandered down a stealthily hidden passageway to the secret bunker that housed most of Hood’s equipment. He was surprised to find his beloved hotrod-red bike parked in its usual spot – Jason figured he would have used one of his less-used bikes until he was able to get it from the Cave.

He didn’t think too long about it, though, as he grabbed the rest of his gear and dropped down onto the piece of machinery. A loud rev of the engine reverberated between the enclosed walls of his bunker as he pressed a button on one of the bike’s handlebars. Across from him, a large garage door slowly groaned to life. Jason kicked off from the ground, jumping into Gotham’s old tunnel system with practice ease.

The tunnels had originally been part of the Court of Owl’s underground hideouts, but after the Bat-family took down their operations, Red Hood had quickly laid a bright-red claim to them - including the bunker under his building. The tunnel system was near-perfect as it was. Some of it needed a bit of repairs and cleanup, but hidden ways to travel around the major points of Gotham with discreet access points was a resource Jason just couldn’t say no to.

It was through one of these openings that the Red Hood burst into the darkened streets, engine loudly announcing the start of Jason’s patrol to any bystanders who may be in earshot.

He quickly sped through the dimly lit streets, expertly navigating to one of the many areas Jason leaves his bike during the night. Today, he had decided, was going to just be an easy patrol. A nice little stroll through Crime Alley, maybe a stop at one of his favorite twenty-four hour hole in the walls, and then finishing up his night with a well-deserved bath.

With that in mind, the Red Hood grappled up to Gotham’s darkened rooftops, letting the city’s shadows envelope him in a cool, familiar embrace. Street lights flickered noisily, enhancing the darkened figures thrown across well-worn buildings. The great expanse of Gotham’s ever-changing skyline greeted the helmeted vigilante as he began his daily patrol across his home territory.

A thick layer of smog blocked the moon and stars from being seen by the millions of Gothamites, the haze from the day still lingering at the very edges of the giant city. The early spring breeze brought a light chill to the night, making Jason glad he had a layered uniform, unlike when he was a child strutting around in Dick’s old scaly panties.

He tapped the side of his helmet three times, turning on the communication unit built into its protective metals. A quiet chatter of his family greeted him and against his will, Jason felt his shoulders drop just a bit.

“-I’m saying that it’s obvious that Ivy and Harley are going to get married soon.” Dick’s voice was broken up by the sounds of wind sweeping across his speaker, small grunts echoing in Jason’s ear as his older brother danced across rooftops in a well-loved routine.

Stephanie’s response came with the usual hyper rush Jason has learned to associate with his fellow street kid. “And I’m saying that I think they’re going to wait a little longer. We all know how Ivy is about commitments.”

“But she and Harley have been dating for years. If the two of them can survive that tantrum Kiteman had a few months ago, then I think they’re pretty much set for life.”

“Quiet on the line.” Bruce’s gravelly tone was a bit of an unwelcome entry in the friendly banter, making Jason fight to contain the natural tensing of his body. He forced himself to relax, jumping from the roof of a crumbling apartment building and onto an old office building in a much similar state.

“Don’t be such a stick in the mud, B.” Dick let out a larger grunt, a fleshy sound accompanying it. “Hey guys, mind if I drop in? Seems like you’re all having the party of a lifetime.”

“Fighting on an open line?” Jason drawled, never one to not poke at Dick. “Watch out, Boy Wonder. Daddy-bat’s gonna ground you at this rate.” A single grunt was the only response Jason’s quip earned, making him sneer a bit under his protective hood.

Figures.

Before the gun-slinging vigilante could even get another word in, he heard the “ping” associated with Oracle dragging his communication unit down onto another line. “Hood, I’ve gotten reports of a gang break-in a few blocks from your location. Double back, it’s the building across from where you stored your bike.”

“Of course,” he groaned, but still dutifully skidded to a stop. Jason threw himself into sprinting back across the different roofs he had just parkoured his way over. “Any more information on the situation?”

“Negative.”

“Wonderful.”

It took him a few minutes, but soon Jason was back in the general area where he had started his night. “Is it the jewelers or the pawn shop?” Jason asked the quiet line, staring down at the littered streets.

“The jewelers,” Babs said. “Footage is showing four guys, their getaway driver is waiting outside near the back. Dark blue van. Best to proceed with the burglars then the driver, from what I can see.”

“Got it, going in now.”

“Good luck.”

The large vigilante dropped down in front of the store, scanning through the broken glass. He could barely see the four figures shoving anything they could grab into worn duffle bags. From what Jason could tell, none of them were armed – meaning he was quick to slip sneakily through the opening they had made when one’s back was turned. It was his odd hybrid training that allowed him to move so quickly and silently when his body mass was constantly working against him.

Hood snuck up behind a robber who was rooting around a now-broken glass case. The vigilante’s quiet movements served him well as he suddenly struck his arms out, grabbing the masked civilian around the throat. The man made an aborted shout, alerting his friends to the vigilante among their ranks as the Red Hood turned them around. Now with the thug between himself and his buddies, Jason tightened his forearm against the warm neck he held hostage.

“I’m only going to say this once,” Jason’s modulated voice rippled over the thieves. “Surrender or you’ll end up like chucklefuck here.” With the end of his statement, he tightened his grip and swept the other man’s legs out from under him, Jason placing one of his own legs between to keep his prey unsteady.

The thief in his arms started babbling pleads as he desperately squirmed in Hood’s grasp. His friends cautiously lowered their bags, one even going as far as to show Jason his free hand.

“Easy now,” The one furthest from the door said. “We’re just tyin’ ta put food on t’ table.”

“That’s understandable,” The masked vigilante said in a tone laced with half-fake sympathy. “But there’s better ways to go around getting money than robbing stores. Surrender and I’m sure prison’ll teach ya’.”

“Yeah,” The far guy spoke up again. “Not gonna happen, cape.” With that, the dude kicked a heavy rock at Jason with surprising accuracy, forcing him to let go of the squirming criminal in his grasp. As much as Jason would be fine with the dude getting a concussion, he’s sure the other bats would not be so chill about it.

The thief that was caught in Jason’s grapple was busy running, trying to make an epic getaway. It gave Jason time to pull out his handgun and a warning shot was fired, putting a smoking hole into the floor in front of the fleeing robber. The man, to his credit, didn’t flinch at the loud noise and instead kept gunning for the exit where his friends were waiting for him.

With a curse, Jason realized a bit late that the three of them were almost at the door – which he noticed had been disarmed. He slipped his gun back into its rightful place before he raced after the three thieves. As they ran through the store, jumping over jewelry cases and feeling his boots slide across scattered glass shards dusting the floor like deadly fallen snow. The vigilante pulled out a bola set from where it was hanging on his utility belt, aimed as best he could while running, and threw it with terrifying accuracy towards the first criminal in the fleeing line.

The bolas caught on the robber’s legs, drawing them up short. With a panicked shout, the man went down like a live oak – with a heavy crash and shaking limbs. The two behind him stumbled to a frightened stop, obviously startled. Jason used those couple precious milliseconds to gain ground on the group, already planning his next move. A gloved hand reached back towards his belt, gripping onto his last bola set. By the time he was re-noticed by the criminals, he was mere feet away from the trio. One of them let out a surprised noise, fleeing the scene and leaving his friends behind. It was him that Jason aimed his bolas at, easily letting the capture weapon fly and snag the wayward robber.

The last one had been trying to help his friend out, on his knees with a knife frantically sawing through the rope binding his buddies’ legs. When Jason was close enough, he pulled the man up by the back of his jacket and punched him across the nose. The squirming criminals’s hands came up to clutch at the bruised cartilage and Jason slapped Bat-grade handcuffs across his wrists.

“Now,” Jason said as he dropped his prey. He turned to look at the other two, focusing on the man at his feet while the one in his hands squirmed around. “Maybe it’s nap-time for some naughty boys.”

“Let us go, Hood!” The man in his hands yelled, drawing Jason’s attention. “C’mon, man, we got families! Don’t throw us in jail!”

“You should have thought of that before you decided crime was your best option.” The helmeted man practically growled. “What would your family say if they found out this was the way you made your money? Huh?”

“Don’t be so naïve, Hood,” The man on the floor snarled.

“How about you shut up, huh?” Jason snapped, looming over the other. He dropped the handcuffed guy next to the one on the floor before manhandling the un-handcuffed guy around to turn him into a newly-minted handcuff guy. “Time to take care of your last pal, boys.” But when Jason lifted his head towards the exit of the darkened store, all he saw was his now-sawed bolas and a wide-open door. “Oh you have got to be shittin’ me.”

With a quick tap to his helmet, Hood rejoined the open line Gotham’s vigilantes used to alert when a crime was stopped as he ran through the open doorway. “Oracle, got two of the four. They’re locked up in cuffs, in pursuit of the others.”

“Noted,” Bab’s steady voice filled Jason’s ears. “I’ve got eyes on their get-away car and contacted GPD - so far they’re heading south through the Bowery.”

“Got it. Do I have time to grab my bike or am I using the Rooftop Express tonight?”

“Get the bike, they’re not slowing down.” Oracle paused for a split-second, no doubt cross-referencing the activities of all the vigilantes roaming the streets. “Red Robin will cut them off if they start heading east.”

Red Hood huffs as he spots his bike, having raced over from the now-destroyed shop. “Sounds good,” he started his bike with a deafening cry from the engine, adrenaline pumping through the ex-crime lord’s veins. It was odd, to be so excited for a chase and not feel r agerageragerage in the far corners of his mind, threatening to cloud his thoughts with mindless violence. “Streets?”

As Oracle rattles off the street name Hood’s suspects are using to attempt to get away, the man uses his modified bike to its greatest potential. Weaving through traffic was something Jason was used to - it was as natural as grappling across rooftops for the young man. To slip between cars while traveling at high speeds was a rush he craved. Add in the hunt of criminals? Well, Jason was as happy as a Bat with a cold case.

When Jason spotted the criminal’s van, they were deep into the heart of Gotham. He had chased them through the Bowery, over the Robins Bridge. Gotham itself was a city made up of multiple islands - each broken up by different inlets bleeding into the Gotham Bay. Sprang River separated the northernmost parts of Gotham from the older parts of the city, like the Upper East Side, Diamond District, and University District. As soon as Barbara informed Jason that his suspects were heading through the Upper East Side, a plan started to formulate.

The Upper East side was broken into a grid pattern, much like how New York City was. If Jason could speed through the lesser-used streets parallel to 35th, then there was a chance he could cut them off. A quick one-handed pat down of his bike’s stylish saddlebags confirmed he had a set of tire spikes. Hidden under his hood, an excited smile grew.

“Hey, Oracle,” Jason cut off the red-headed wonder’s listing of streets. “I’m going to spike the van. What’s the traffic lookin’ like?”

There was a pause before a resigned sigh filtered through Red Hood’s helmet. “Traffic is mostly clear, they’re closing in on Robinson Park now. Best thing to do is try and get them in that area - it gives me time to stop traffic around there.”

“Perfect,” Hood purred as he pushed his bike faster, expertly weaving around the late-night commuters. In just a few minutes, Hood got the confirmation from Oracle that now was a good time to enact their plan. With a quick twist of his body, Jason’s bike dodged between skyscrapers as he burst onto the main road in the Upper East Side. The criminal’s van was just barely behind him and, having no time to maneuver, ended up driving over the spikes Red Hood threw into the road.

A pop and the eerie screeching of machinery enveloped Jason’s senses as his prey struggled to keep their getaway vehicle under control. When it finally crashed into a light pole, an odd quiet seemed to brush over the city. With an expert flick of his foot, Jason lowered his bike’s kickstand before stalking over to the smoking van. He brought a padded elbow up, smashing the window in a practiced move. As glass fell like a dangerous snow, he paused to take in the sight of the criminals before him.

The van’s airbags had deployed, leaving his two runaways unconscious in their seats. With a huff, the vigilante opened the driver’s door. He checked over the two thugs with practise ease, making sure there were no injuries he may need to know about before moving them out of their now-busted van.

“Got them, Oracle,” Hood said, pulling the two men out of the van. He set them a few feet away, zip-tying their hands and feet together. “Cops on their way?”

“They’ll be there in two minutes. Any chance you can pick up the spikes?”

“Sure,” Jason agreed easily, sauntering his way down the street. He could see the faraway headlights of cars heading his way as he rolled up the spikes. As the black-haired man secured them back into the saddlebags, he heard the distant sound of sirens.

“You best get a move on, Hood,” Oracle cautioned. Typing joined her speech, urgency picking up in her voice as she directed him. “Looks like there’s been a break-in at the History Museum. You’re the closest unoccupied.”

“Seriously?” Jason groused, hopping back onto his bike. He left the criminals in a trail of exhaust right as the Gotham Police Department showed up. The vague threats they made followed the Red Hood as he sped towards the University District. “You know I hate that place.”

“Well, sucks to suck. Batman and Robin are currently chasing down a lead on Penguin’s drug trade, otherwise I would send the two of them.”

Hood paused, his brain going to places he definitely did not want it going. “New lead or the one from yesterday?”

“New lead - Red Robin and Orphan picked it up while you were indisposed.” With a sigh, Hood parked his bike in a random alleyway, taking note of the streets near it. The large man grappled his way up to the roof of the building before starting to parkour his way towards the museum, grumbling the entire way.

It wasn’t that Jason didn’t want to stop a thief, or that he was embarrassed about being drugged the other day. No, it wasn’t that. A fight was something Jason pretty much welcomed every night he donned his guns and helmet. The museum was simply too full of times before. Before he had died, when things were just a bit easier. When it was just him, Dick, Bruce, and Alfred. Back when he wore the scaly panties and hid in Batman’s cape. When banter and quips thrown at villains came easier to him, when he thought Batman would always be there to catch him when Jason fell.

He couldn’t help but wonder what had changed about the museum since the last time he was there, six years ago, stopping Catwoman with Batman. From doing his best to ignore the flirting between his father mentor and the thief.

Now, instead of the hand-me-down Robin uniform, it was the Red Hood armor Jason wore to strike down a thief.

Jason’s musing cut off as he landed hard on the roof across from the museum. The vigilante rolled into a light jog, shaking off the pain racing through his knees. He could see the top of his targeted building, stopping at the edge of the rooftop he was occupying to try and get a better view.

He needed to figure out what caused the alarm to trip on the building in the first place. It didn’t seem like the type of area one of the usual Gotham Rogue Gallery would target for any occasion. Maybe Catwoman, but Jason didn’t know of any jewels in any exhibit that she would try to steal.

“Do you have any information on who might’ve broken in? I can’t think of anything Catwoman would try to get her hands on.” Jason asked as he kept a moving eye on the building across from him.

A thoughtful hum came from the other side of the transmission. “I’m looking at the CCTV footage now. The person who broke in is still inside, and appears to be wearing a dark, hooded outfit. White accents as well - whoever it is, they’re not one of our usuals.”

Jason cocked his head, body lighting up with a curiosity he hadn’t felt in a long time. “Roger, going in now. Might as well figure out who it is.” Aiming his grapple gun towards a secure part of the museum’s building, he triggered the mechanism with a satisfying pop and whirr. With an ease born from being a Bat, he jumped off the rooftop - soaring above the late-night foot traffic with a small thrill.

Oracle’s voice crackled as she spoke. “Hood, wait for at least one other to arrive before engaging. All CCTV footage is corrupted - this guy must’ve used a localized EMP of some sort, and depending on how strong it is, we might lose contact.”

“I thought the others were occupied?” The man questioned as he landed on top of the museum’s roof. He dropped to a crouch, surveying the space around him.

The Gotham Museum of Natural History was a building made up of pale stone. It had large, rectangular columns racing up the sides to form a grand entrance. The museum was split into four sections: the main part, and then three add-on sections that all intersected at the circular part of the building. While the roof was relatively flat, a massive glass dome rose from the main section with various skylights scattered around the add-ons. It may look cool but, as all the Gotham vigilantes knew, it created many escape routes for various villains to use. Without counting the many, many windows the building boasted.

“Batman and Robin are. Red Robin just finished up with a mugging and Nightwing is heading north. ETA is roughly ten minutes for each.”

Jason shook his head, creeping along the roof. “When did the break-in happen?”

Oracle paused, her silence speaking a thousand words. “About thirteen minutes ago.”

“So they’re probably finishing up grabbing whatever it is, already.” Red Hood kept his eyes out for any sign of break in, eyes expertly scanning the terrain around him.

“Assuming they’re as fast as Catwoman? Yes.”

Jason’s mouth opened to respond when movement through one of the northern add-on’s skylight caught his attention. The Hood hurried his way over, making sure to keep out of sight. As he got closer, static filled his ears. The noise was loud and startled the black-haired vigilante enough for him to quietly curse as he quickly moved to turn off the horrendous noise blasting through the casing covering his skull. Definitely a localized EMP, he thought as he settled next to the skylight to watch the thief.

While Jason typically had decent sight, through the glass he could only describe the person as whispy, almost like the window prevented him from having a clear view. He could barely make out a pitch-black cloak covering the person’s back as they lifted an object from its display pedestal.

Knowing time was running out and not wanting to let this new thief get away, Hood unlatched the skylight with a trick Batman taught him years ago - back when he was still learning the ropes of being Robin. Hooking his grapple claw onto the skylight’s edge, the ex-crime lord silently lowered himself down the large drop as quietly as he could. Even though there was next to no sound of the grapple’s mechanics and his landing was as quiet as an assassin’s, the thief’s head whipped around. Startled, glowing neon eyes met Hood’s through his helmet. Fear gripped Jason’s heart as unblinking Lazarus pools bore into his very soul.

I should’ve waited, Jason thought hysterically as the vigilante and thief stared at each other.

(((ꏿwꏿ;)))

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outlanderskin · 3 days

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Why are you so fucking calm????

Are you asking this in relation to the last paparazzi walk or in general😅🤣? I think that time in this fandom may give me another perspective because the only feeling I have is "I've seen this movie before." I think Sam (and Cait's) actions have no impact beyond the Outlander bubble. The fans who care about them are Outlander fans, to the general public they are unknown, at most "that actor/actress who played that character x in that filme Y". None of the people outside that bubble care if he's seen with anyone. A person outside the bubble who looks at that photo, even knowing the girl's profession, won't see anything unusual, because for that person, Sam is just a single guy who is an actor and doesn't have to live according to anyone beliefs. Mind you, he was not seen on the street beating a woman, an animal, or a child. He was not photographed or filmed committing any crime. Coldly analyzing (from outside the bubble) what you see in these articles is a single guy (that's what you find about him on social media) walking hand in hand down the street with a woman. The woman's profession would be no one's business. Those outside the bubble won't even bother to research, and even if critics, directors, and bosses in general do research or know that she works as an escort, this won't be considered a scandal. Firstly because (publicly) he is single and being single if he wants to have a serious relationship with her (regardless of her profession) is not a crime and it would be considered prejudice and puritanism to boycott someone for that. And secondly, because we are talking about the world of entertainment and let's be realistic: it is a sexist world, dominated by men and where married men involved in cheating scandals, continue to work and earn loads of money and the excuse they use is "that's his private life, not his professional life." I know the impact of these things on the fandom is huge, but it's always just here. Remember Hawaiigate? Even something so serious that it had to be handled with him making public statements (and her distracting the fandom) didn't have a big impact on his business or his career. The only impact it made was some fans who stopped following and supporting him, but those numbers were replaced in the following months by new fans and look at the numbers today.

I've said many times that I don't idolize them both and I don't expect them to make choices based on what I believe. I've also said a thousand times that I think their choices regarding this circus are terrible. But it doesn't impact me emotionally like it impacts some people in the fandom in general (on all sides). My advice is always the same: if it's causing you pain, if it's too much for you to bear, if it affects your real life, walk away. This is just a fandom. It's not your job, your family. Even the circles of friends you make in a fandom (the real friendships) can be maintained if you decide to leave. Just remember to respect the friends that remain, not to think of yourself as superior because you "found the light" and decided to leave, and friendships can continue beautifully.

As for me, so far, all their bad choices only contribute more and more to what I believe. That's why I'm here with my popcorn in hand, always waiting for the next show and remembering that the only actions and reactions I can control are my own. And, that's OK.

#outlander #samcait #shipping #sam heughan #fandom is for fun #thehardlifeofshippers #welcome to the shitshow

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delicatebarness · 1 day

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cry baby | chapter twelve

Summary: It's not who the hell is Bucky, it's where the hell is Bucky?

Warning: Lack of Bucky. Mean Bucky is back (question mark?)

Word Count: 1654

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A/N: Oh... Buck. Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as it is mine. - B

Your phone buzzed, an indication that you received a text, and you eagerly snatched it up. Only to find it was the regular pizza deal text from the local pizzeria you ordered from, one time. Sighing, you tossed your phone back onto the couch and wrapped your cardigan tighter around yourself.

A few days had passed since that night Bucky left your apartment. In that time, he hadn’t returned any of your calls or texts, and he hadn’t been showing up at the bar. You had expressed your growing concern to the rest of the group, however they seemed unbothered. “He’s just being Bucky,” they all waved off with a casual shrug.

As the day continued to pass without a word from him, your worry began to deepen. Each time your phone buzzed, your hope would flare, only to vanish when it wasn’t him.

The first place you checked when you hadn’t heard back from him was his apartment. You had gone there during a time when you knew he wouldn’t be at work. Knocking on his door and calling his name, you waited around a few moments longer than you normally would, but there had been no answer. You had even asked his neighbors, but they explained that they rarely see him.

You found yourself pacing the apartment, the thought of him possibly hurt or in trouble gnawed at you. Your mind raced. You couldn’t take it anymore.

Grabbing your phone and keys, you decided to check the local hospital. It felt drastic, but the uncertainty was eating away at you. The cool air did little to calm your nerves as you walked toward the hospital.

At the hospital’s reception desk, you explained your situation to the receptionist, trying to not rush your words and steady your breathing. “Hi, I was just wondering if my friend has been admitted here. He hasn’t been in touch for a few days, and I’m really worried. His name is James Barnes… but he might be under Bucky.”

The receptionist took a moment to check her records, giving you a sympathetic look as she turned back to you. “I’m sorry, but we don’t have anyone by that name admitted.”

Your heart sank, but you thanked the lady and headed toward the bar. As you walked, the city lights began to turn on as you debated your next move. Checking with Fury felt like the next logical step, but you worried it may be too extreme.

Reaching the bar with heavy steps, your mind swirled with anxiety and unanswered questions. You saw that Natasha was already sitting at the booth. Concern was etched on her face as she looked up at you sliding into the booth. “Hey, everything okay? You don’t look so good.”

You shook your head, fidgeting with the ends of your cardigan shelves. “I still haven’t heard from Bucky… I checked his apartment, the hospitals… nothing.”

She reached out, a comforting hand resting on top of your trembling ones. “I know you’re worried, but remember,” she paused, taking a sigh. “This isn’t the first time he’s disappeared like this. He’s always had the habit of going off the grid for a week or two and then, one day we walk in here and he’s just back.”

You nodded, a mixed feeling of frustration and relief rushed through you at her words. “I know, but it just feels different, Nat. Something doesn’t feel right.”

Natasha gave your hand a gentle squeeze, a sympathetic look covering her face. “I get it, but he’s a tough guy, he knows what he’s doing,”

You couldn’t shake the worry entirely, but her words gave you a small sense of hope. As the rest of the evening passed by, you found yourself staring at the empty seat across from you.

Over the rest of the weeks, you tried everything you could think of to try and get a reply from him. You continued to send him calls and texts, each one sounding more desperate as the days passed. You even resorted to sending him Snapchats of your kitten, hoping that a glimpse of the kitten you named, Alpine, together would prompt him to reach out.

However, no matter how hard you tried, all you could see was that everything had only been delivered. He remained silent, and you were left unread.

You checked your phone obsessively, hoping for some sign of him.

The week rolled into the next, and you found yourself trying to distract yourself with work and drawing. No matter how hard to tried to focus on something else, your thoughts kept drifting back to Bucky. You found yourself returning to his apartment time and time again, hoping you would catch him. But each time, the door remained closed.

After a night with the rest of your friends, the bar began to empty out. You had remained lost in your thoughts for most of the night, your gaze still fixed on the empty seat in front of you.

Suddenly, the door to the bar swung open. Your heart began to race as the hope built up inside you. Stretching your neck out to turn toward the door, you locked gazes with Tony.

Tony had been a friend of your group for years, he was the best mechanic in the city and did everything to help out with the bikes. He walked in, carrying a bulky-looking package. His eyes remained locked on yours, a bright smile spread across his face as he made his way over to the booth.

“Evening ladies,” Tony greeted, the term ladies used to greet all five of you sat at the booth. “I’ve been meaning to give this to Barnes, but since he hasn’t shown up or answered his goddamn phone… I figured I’d better bring it to you.”

You watched as Tony placed the cardboard box on the table in front of you. “What’s this?” you asked, curiosity filling your voice.

Tony shot you a mischievous grin as he began opening the box, revealing a pastel pink motorcycle helmet adorned with intricate designs. “Barnes ordered this from the shop a couple of weeks ago…” he trailed on before handing it to you. “Like I said, he hasn’t come to collect it yet or answered any of my calls. But, I can only assume it’s for you.”

Your eyes welled, the surprise of the gesture taking over your emotions. You reached out to look over the helmet, feeling the smooth surface beneath your fingertips. It was adorable, matching the color of your new cardigan perfectly, and the fact that Bucky had gone out of his way to order it for you filled your heart.

“Thank you, Tony…” you sniffled, the tears beginning to spill down your cheeks. “I have no idea he was planning something like this.”

Tony chuckled, his eyes sparkled with amusement. “Well, I’m glad I could get it to you, Cry Baby.”

You couldn’t help but smile at Tony. He didn’t stay around much longer, with a nod and a wave, he bif you all farewell before leaving.

Holding the helmet in your hands, you couldn’t help but think of Bucky. Why would he plan this gesture but then disappear, you thought?

You felt a mix of nervousness and anticipation as you stood outside of Bucky’s apartment door, clutching the pink helmet. Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you reached out to knock on his door.

The sound of your knocking echoed in the hallway, you held your breath as you waited anxiously for a response.

A surge of relief rushed through you as the door cracked open. However, it was short-lived as you looked up to see Bucky standing there, shirtless and caught off guard. His chest heaved as he caught his breath, and his skin shined from sweat. His eyes widened in surprise as he registered your presence.

“Hi…” you greeted him, offering a small smile in the awkwardness of the situation. “I, uh, Tony… Tony came by the bar tonight,” you tried to keep your voice steady while gesturing toward the helmet in your hands. “I just wanted to thank you for the helmet,”

His expression was guarded as his gaze went back and forth between you and the interior of his apartment. He stepped back slightly, closing the door with him, blocking your view into the apartment. “Oh, uh, yeah. No problem,” he mumbled, his tone terse and distant, if you hadn’t been hanging on his every word, you may have missed him adding your name at the end.

He hadn’t used your name since you were four years old. Twenty years, he has only called you ‘Sweetheart,’ until now. It was a small detail, you should have easily overlooked but it felt significant somehow.

That was when you heard movement coming from the apartment, and the pieces fell into place. You tried to mask your embarrassment as you realized that you had most likely interrupted something more intimate.

“I really appreciate it,” you said, trying to maintain your composure. “It, um, it was so thoughtful of you.”

His eyes darted between you and the helmet, and you could see the tension in his posture as he shifted uncomfortably on his feet. “Yeah, well, it’s no big deal,” he muttered, his voice strained.

You bit back the urge to apologize but instead, you focused on getting away as quickly as you could. “I’ll, uh, let you get back to… whatever you were doing,” you said, your voice tinged with embarrassment.

Bucky nodded, his cheeks flushing slightly. “Yeah… thanks,” he mumbled, his gaze avoided yours.

With a final awkward smile, you turned to leave. As the door closed behind you, you made your way back down the hallway. Before rounding the corner, you stopped in your tracks turning back to look at his door.

With a heavy sigh, you tore your gaze away and continued on your way.

---

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

#cry baby series #cry baby #bucky barnes x cry baby #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky fanfic #james bucky barnes #bucky fic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x rogers!reader #biker!bucky #biker au

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bengiyo · 2 days

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Wandee Goodday Ep 5 Stray Thoughts

Last week, they executed their Business Gay Performance Plan and Ter was pressed. Wandee found himself jealous of Taem, and Kao almost choked Dee out for complicating his arrangement for no reason. Dee spent the night at the gym, and everyone there knows what's up. We got insights into Yak's relationship with his mom, and how his desire to graduate may be related to her.

I guess it's time for Dee's trauma. Are we gonna open the next episode with Kao's or Cher's?

Cheering up this kid is very sweet.

The fact that these two are actually fucking is such a relief. Most of the time it's just not believable that these guys haven't been doing it.

I had a student once who remembers everyone's birthdays. Can't believe Dee walked into this trap.

Let's talk about Yoryak knowing the exact length of time they've been together.

Golf is having fun with these cameos.

Kao! The first thing he asked about was the sex gear!

Once again this show comes through for me I'm so glad boys who read kinda femme are allowed to demand a stern dicking. Pete in LBC was the first I remember, but this is so satisfying. Cher is allowed to want sex, too. I love it because Oyei has been so down for Cher this whole time that there's no way I believed he's cheating, but I do think he has something on his mind.

I love the grandma. She said, "These annoying youths are at the home and I had to get the fuck out of there." She knew what was up and was teasing the whole time.

I really love how chill the grandmother is about Dee's sex and romantic life. She teases mildly and checks on him to make sure he's okay.

That visual effect with the line was cute.

What in the 2gether is this?

I know she not playing that guitar at 3:30 in the morning!

Why would we put the sex bunny ears on his grandma??? What in the Peter Cottontail nonsense is this???

Why are his parents buried next to a British naval officer????

Genuinely love Yoryak changing up his look. The vibe between Yoryak and Taem is so compelling.

I refuse to believe that Oyei is possibly lying.

Now why are they doing their sex personas in public like this? Is Kao taking notes?

I'm so glad that Dee and Taem don't have beef.

Okay, I suspect Inn can actually cook.

No. Flour everywhere is not sexy. This is not an easy mess to clean.

It's so gross Ter taking Kwan to the same place as Dee like this. I don't like it.

Nope, that's flour in his eye. It's over. Yeast infection ahoy.

I'm not in the mood for Ter nonsense next week.

This feels like a treading water episode. I hope we get payoff next week with both of our couples. I don't want this thing about Cher's worries to be nothing, when I suspect that Oyei is dealing with financial stress.

#Ben watches #wandee goodday #wandee gooday the series #thai bl #bl series

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lulublack90 · 3 days

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Prompt 31 - Second Chances

@wolfstarmicrofic May 31, word count 996

Second part to Prompt 30 - Breakup

His body was shaking from head to toe. Sirius was gone. Sirius had left him all because Dumbledore had forbidden him from telling him about what his true purpose in the Order was.

“ARGH!!!!!” He screamed into the empty flat as tears began to stream down his face. He’d had enough of this, he wasn’t going to lose the love of his life to keep the secrets of a dotty old man.

He stormed out of the flat and apparated to the gates of Hogwarts. The walk-up to the castle took so much longer than Remus remembered. Dumbledore was waiting for him at the castle's entrance.

“Good evening Remus,” The headmaster asked calmly.

“We need to talk,” Remus tried to say evenly, but it came out sharper than he meant.

“This way, Mr Lupin,” Dumbledore turned and led him into the school. Dumbledore led him into the great hall and into a small room off to the side. “What can I do for you?” Dumbledore asked.

Remus stole himself, he wasn’t going to lose Sirius.

“I need to tell Sirius,”

“No,” Dumbledore said bluntly.

“It’s not a discussion, Albus. I am telling him.” He spat back.

“Why now?” The headmaster asked curiously.

“He left me because you made me lie to him, and he knew I was lying.” He looked Dumbledore dead in the eyes. “I refuse to lose him because of you,”

He was surprised when Dumbledore nodded in agreement.

“He will need to make an unbreakable vow,” Dumbledore told him. Remus felt a small drop of hope form within him.

“Yes, Sir. Thank you." He turned and almost ran out the door.

“Oh, Remus, before you go,” Remus looked back at the headmaster’s serious face. “Sirius is the only one you may tell and only if you fully trust him. Remember there is a spy amongst us.”

“It’s not him,” Remus snarled. It wasn’t the first time he’d heard that. “It’s not him,” He said again firmly, as he sped through the doors before Dumbledore could say anything else. That had been far too easy, but Remus didn’t have time to figure out what the old wizard was up to, he had a relationship to save.

***

He arrived outside the Potter’s house. It was the only place Sirius would go. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door. James answered.

“Remus!” James choked out. “Er, I don’t think this is the best time.”

“Let me in, James,” Remus ordered. James exhaled a long breath and dragged his hand through his hair, making it stick up on end. He moved aside and let Remus in.

Sirius was curled up on the sofa with Lily’s arms wrapped around him and a cup of tea in his hands. Lily turned first, her eyes widening when she saw him.

“Sirius,” His voice was croaky as it filled with emotion. He cleared it. “Sirius, please, can we talk? I need to tell you why.” He waited and waited, praying that Sirius would give him a second chance. Sirius slowly turned his head. The skin around his eyes was puffy and red. He must have been crying all night. “Please,” He whispered. He could see all the hurt on Sirius’s face, but he nodded and Remus let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding.

“It’s okay, Lily.” Sirius patted her leg. Lily turned on Remus as Sirius unwrapped himself from the blanket.

“If you hurt him again you’ll have me to answer to,” She warned. Remus wasn’t prepared to cross Lily Potter. He may be a werewolf, but she was scarier than he’d ever been if she thought her loved ones were in trouble.

“Can we go back to the flat?” Remus suggested. Sirius looked at James and, after having a silent conversation, Sirius looked back at Remus and nodded.

Sirius walked out of the house after hugging Lily and James. Remus followed.

Back at the flat, Sirius stared at him with his arms folded across his chest. He didn’t look angry, he looked unsure.

“Sirius,” Remus moved to touch him, but Sirius flinched away from him. Remus swallowed. “Sirius, I’m going to tell you everything. Dumbledore has given me permission, but there’s one condition before I do.”

“What?” Sirius finally spoke to him.

“Dumbledore has demanded that we perform an unbreakable vow.” Anger flashed across Sirius’s face.

“Because you don’t trust me?!” He wasn’t quite shouting but it was close.

“Sirius, if it was my choice I would have told you every day what I’ve done. I’d tell you every little detail, but he won’t let me.” He looked at Sirius, begging him to agree. “Please, Sirius, please. I love you, I can’t lose you. Please, Sirius.” Tears were dripping down his face again.

“Okay, Remus, I’ll do it.” Sirius sighed.

“Thank you,”

They performed the vow at Hogwarts with Dumbledore as the witness. Sirius had been warned by Dumbledore what this meant and that he could not tell anyone about what Remus did, or he would put him in danger. Sirius agreed to everything.

They watched as the thin flames licked over their linked hands as the vow settled into their skin.

When it was over, Remus took Sirius home and told him everything. He told him about the research. He told Sirius about the wolf packs that he’d integrated himself into, to try and get them to stay neutral or even fight for their side. Sirius sat in silence as Remus unloaded all the secrets he’d been dying to tell Sirius for over a year.

“It must have been killing you to keep all those secrets, Moony,” Sirius said quietly after Remus had finished talking. He cupped Remus’s face in his hands. “You’re not alone anymore, Remus. I’ll help you shoulder this burden.” Sirius leaned in and kissed him, their tears mixing on their faces as their kiss deepened. Remus felt nothing but relief and love for the man in front of him.

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97linelover · 12 hours

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did you hear what the rumor said ? - Kim Mingyu

18+ / mdi

summary: Dating as Idols means, keeping it a secret. Rumors will spread, people will get hurt.

What if this one Rumor brings you over the edge and you no longer can handle this Secret?

content: Idol Mingyu x Idol reader, fight,angst, happy end,fluff,

wc: 1.4 k

a/n: I always think about, how tiring it must be for Idols to date, or to just meet people. How they need to keep everything a Secret. I would not want to trade with that.

If there's one thing the companies will teach you at the start of your career, it's handling rumors.

There will be rumors about everything. At the beginning, they will start small, but as the group grows, the rumors grow.

Ever since your debut, the rumors have been huge. Hybe's newest Girlband was rumored to be found by Woozi.

"Y/N Spotted Leaving the Seventeen Mansion"

"Y/N and Mingyu were spotted together at a luxury dinner; they were pretty cozy."

"Seventeen Mingyu was spotted with hickeys after a dinner date with Y/N."

So, as you may have guessed, the rumors were about you and Mingyu dating, and the funny thing was, the rumors were true. You met Mingyu while you were just applying for the Hybe Auditions; you could not find the door, and you bumped into him.

He kindly guided you to the right room, and from that moment on, every time you two spotted each other, you actually ended up hanging out.

And ever since he took you out on a date, you two have been officially a couple.

3 years together, and no one knows except your closest friends. It was like a routine, going to work separated but ending together on the couch. You were each other's comfort after a long work day.

But of course, those were not the only rumors. When you joined Enhypen in their dance challenge, Jay was looking at you with the brightest smile, and you jumped on his back. With that, a new ship was built, and Mingyu saw the headlines first. You rushed to his studio, where he was busy recording. You saw how his eyes were dull, and you just walked into the booth, hugging him.

"Only you, Gyu," you whispered while looking up at him. "Those rumors are getting out of control," he sighed, leaning his forehead against yours. "We just need to remember who we belong to, baby, you and me." You pulled him closer, "only us." He agreed, kissing you softly.

Meanwhile, the rumors did not stop you; you both just got better at ignoring them.

Mingyu was currently on a Japan tour, and you were busy with the upcoming comeback. The traveling made everything a lot harder, but you were getting better at handling it.

After you suggested that you want to watch their final Japan show, Mingyu declined, telling you that you need to rest, and there's actually no spot anyway. You wished him good luck and watched the livestream. You were always amazed by your boyfriend's talent.

When you scrolled through Twitter, you saw the new trending hashtag #mingyuSomi.

She was at the concert wearing the Mingyu Nana tour shirt; everyone shipped them; they always said they were the perfect match. You felt your heart hurt at that.

But when the concert finished, the normally post-concert call did not come through. It was a ritual you two had; whenever one finished a show, they would call and just say how they were feeling. They were never skipped.

and when you saw the new headlines, you felt your heart breaking into a thousand pieces.

Mingyu was spotted leaving the venue with a giggling smile on his arm. "Seventeen Mingyu and Jeon Somi were spotted leaving the stadium after Seventeen's final Japan tour." You wanted to swipe it away, but you could not.

"Jeon Somi and Kim Mingyu are known for their flirty relationship; tonight the two idols were spotted giggling and touching with each other; Mingyu apparently even joined her in the car, and they went out for a romantic Italian dinner. We think it's the minimum he could do for his girlfriend that joins him at the final show."

You did not notice the tears running down your cheek; you did not notice how you suddenly realized the situation—that she was there with him while you were sitting at home waiting for his call.

Even if this was just a rumor at this exact moment, it broke your heart. You knew Somi, and you knew that she was in love with Mingyu. This made it even worse.

You waited for his call the entire night, but the only thing you were left with were paparazzi pictures of them out in a club.

The only thing that could help you the next day was focusing on your comeback. You drowned yourself in work, and you ignored your boyfriend. You ignored his messages, and you ignored his calls.

You were being childish; you knew it; you were clouded by the pain you felt.

Without a safe flight message, you could not focus, so when you typed that in, you saw that he directly read the message. You quickly put your phone away, starting the music for practice.

When the evening came, you went home; you could not stay at his place. You don't even know what broke you exactly, but maybe the fact that everyone wanted them to be real while you were just watching him ditch you.

You began to cut some veggies and fry some chicken and sat down on the couch. You were busy watching Grey's Anatomy when you heard your door beep. Before you knew it, a furious Mingyu was standing in front of you. He was dressed in some joggers and the matching hoodie. He looked tired and clearly exhausted from the flight.

"Gyu," your widened eyes watched every step. "What the fuck has happened?" He crossed his arms and said, "Your ignoring me for two days and then your staying at your place?" He was angry. "I felt like it," you said with furrowed eyebrows. "You felt like it? You're lying now at me?" He grew mad, and you got up.

"I did not want to see you," you stated. "What the fuck? I missed you, and I could not wait to come back home, and now this?" He scoffed. "Maybe Somi would be happier," you muttered.

"Care to repeat that?" He raised his eyebrows. "Maybe Somi would be happy to have you home, my love," you said sarcastically, and he let out a huff. "What are you on about?"

"You told me that I don't need to come, that there is no space, and then I see fucking Somi there." You felt the tears. "You spent the entire night with her, and you forgot about me; you forgot our ritual." You blinked away the tears. "So this is the reason why I don't want to see you."

Mingyu was speechless. "And you don't think about talking to me? This is fucking ridiculous," he let out a laugh. "I DID NOT UTTER A WORD WHEN EVERYONE THOUGHT YOU WERE FUCKING JAY," he yelled, and you flinched.

If there is one thing, Mingyu never yells.

"ALL THOSE DUMB VIDEOS OF YOU TWO ALL OVER MY TIK TOK." You could not move at his outburst, and you could only stare at him in shock. When he realized that he had yelled at you, he gasped. "Y/N," he whispered, but you just let out a sob. "I think you should go," you whispered while turning around. "Apperantly, we're not that good at ignoring the rumors," you added while sitting down.

"Baby, I did not mean to yell," he whispered. "I'm tired, and I'm just so exhausted." He said with a pleading tone, "That's why you should go home; we should not discuss this right now; it will only end in a fight." You smiled sadly.

"I love you, Jagiya," he said while walking towards the door. "I love you too, but I don't want to be a rumor anymore," you sobbed. "Goodnight.".

You heard the door closing, and not even a minute later, you got a notification.

"Mingyu: Date nights only with you. 🔐❤️"

You saw that he posted a photo you took of him with you tagged, and you gasped. The blanket flew to the side, and you hurried to the door.

When you opened it, he was standing in front of the door looking at you. "You did not just confirm our relationship." You were at a loss for words, and he grinned at you. "I want you to be my only true rumor." He pulled you close and softly wiped your tears away.

"Please don't ever think anyone could be better than you; I love you with my entire heart; my family loves you; my sister sees you as the sister she always wanted; I could never love someone more like I love you.".

You softly kissed him and said, "So now let's talk about the monster performance." You pulled him inside.

#seventeen #kpop #seventeen angst #au #gyu #svt #mingyu #mingyu imagines #smut

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thesilmarillionblog · 1 day

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𓏲 𓂃 L o s i n g Y o u

Part: 7

Click here to read the first part.

Summary: Everything was good as a member of Payback and Soldier Boy's secret girlfriend until the team and your relationship with him began to fall apart due to a new member and her developing relationship with Ben right in front of your eyes.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader

Warnings: heavy angst, hurt, language, PTSD, soft Soldier Boy, Soldier Boy gets hurt, anxious reader, mention of torture

Word Count: 3373

A/N: English is not my first language.

* This story is inspired by the song "Losing You" by Dream Evil.

Your senses began to awaken when a hand removed the mask covering your face. Your body felt numb and lightheaded, making it difficult for you to see anything, even if you were able to free your hands from the tight handcuffs. Your legs felt like jelly, and it felt like all of your strength had been stolen away. From a distance, you heard someone calling your name, but you had no idea who it was. Everything was terribly cloudy, complex, and hazy.

The voice attempting to communicate with you was most likely that of another evil scientist who had come to torture you and grab more samples from you. You thought, Oh, my god. How did things turn out for you? How much time have you spent here? Months, weeks, or a year? You struggled to remember every memory; your head hurt so much that you grimaced.

Ben snarled at Butcher, “Give me your fucking coat,” trying to quickly cover your body with his own as he saw you were only wearing a very short, thin, filthy dress that smelt terrible.

Ben said, “You still look beautiful, you know, but you definitely need a good and long shower, baby,” as he saw you straining to completely awaken. He kept observing your facial expressions, fascinated and concerned at the same time, since you appeared so innocent and confused in the metal box. You may have gotten the same upgrades as him, given his newfound abilities, and if he wasn't careful with you, you could do a lot of damage. If it were the same for you, though, he could manage the energy in your chest with ease.

You smelled blood everywhere and felt panicked the moment the smoke burned your eyes and made it difficult for you to see properly. Your body shook from anxiety and terror. All around you, you heard faint whimpers and shallow breathing that sounded like they were ready to pass away. The smell of death and pain filled that place. You knew you had to leave this torture house as soon as you could, while you were still able to. You used all of your strength to push the body in front of you against the wall and across the room harshly while that stranger forced you to put on a coat.

Ben groaned, “Oh, fuck, sweetheart,” as he realized he was through the wall. With a raised eyebrow, he grinned to himself. It wouldn't be that simple, he realized. After all, you were his equal.

Butcher realized that this wouldn't go away as he had hoped and that he perhaps could have made a small mistake, and he took a step back in terror. He didn't dare get involved because he wasn't on Temp-V.

You coughed in between clouds of smoke, and the heavy blood all over the area made your face drop. Indeed, you were once more in danger, and those creatures undoubtedly had new plans for you. You halted briefly as hot blood beneath your boots stopped you from continuing your frantic search for the exit. There were corpses all throughout the place, and they undoubtedly belonged to those people who had tormented you and forced you to sleep for who knows how long.

“At this point, what will you do? Will she explode similarly to you or worse?” Ben stood up from the location he was thrown into, as Butcher asked.

Ben shook his head, scrubbing away the dusk and stones from his hair and clothes. “Stop whining like a bitch,” he shouted loudly. “I can handle this. She's just confused.”

You started to move out the door, but powerful hands quickly grabbed your waist and held your arms, restricting your movements just like the day you were tricked. You cried out, “Let me go,” as your heart raced in anticipation of being confinted or, worse, subjected to more agony.

You tried everything to pull yourself out of the desperate situation, feeling terrified and perplexed, but his grasp held you tightly, and it was strangely stronger than yours.

A voice called out to your ear from behind you, “Calm down.” Once you found out, you knew it belonged to the man who once acted like he cared about you, then tossed you aside and tricked you with his new lover. That was when you truly realized what was going on. If your supe hearing sense wasn't playing tricks on you, it belonged to Ben.

“I want to get you out of here, sweetheart. I know how you are feeling, but stop resisting. Trust me.”

Ben spoke to you like he was whispering, yet you didn't feel at all at ease. Your body stiffened at the hurtful memories of him casting you aside, teaming up with Countess, and betraying you. He was the one who, along with Crimson Countess, imprisoned you in that icy, cruel location and made you endure unending suffering. His soothing murmurs sounded poisonous to the ears.

You fought to break free from his embrace as fury overtook the entirety of your being, but he applied even more force to you. Your gaze was fixed on the door when he settled his ruthless hold around your back, pressing his chest against your back to calm you. You felt so far away, yet so near to freedom.

“It seems she's not very happy to see you, huh?” With a sly smile, Butcher smirked to Ben. “We must immediately leave this place. Any suggestions?”

Ben used the mask he had removed from your face moments before to cover your face once more, exposing you to the same smoke, while he managed to get a hold of both of your arms. You started to cry because you were horrified and felt betrayed, and your heart began to race since you had no idea what he would do to you. How come he was even abusing you in this way?

You were still in his grasp as Ben leaned his head against yours, made you smell the smoke flowing from the mask, and whispered, “Sorry for this, baby. I wouldn't hurt you; I don't mean to. Just stay calm.”

Despite how much you tried to resist it, you have never felt more helpless against him. Tears were streaming down your face, and your eyes began to close. You wanted to talk to him right then and there and attempt to figure out what was bothering him so much about you. Though you planned to speak to him, the faint sound of his name vanished beneath the mask as a deep sleep overtook your already exhausted body.

“Thought you wanted to free her?” Butcher replied in a mocking voice as he observed Ben tightly holding the mask to your face while observing the painful look on your face. With an serious tone, Butcher continued, “We need to get the fuck out of here.”

When Butcher saw you two like that, he was surprised. All he knew was that everyone who knew them acknowledged Soldier Boy and Countess's romantic relationship. At the time, they were the most well-known couple. He was unaware of your relationship with Soldier Boy. As long as Ben followed through on his commitment to kill Homelander, he could care less about the possibility that it was an affair, something between you, or something else. He'd take care of other stuff later.

Ben yelled, “Fuck off,” in a harsh tone. “Without this mask, we can't take her out like that. Until we get home, I'll keep her asleep.”

“And how on earth will you do that, Mr. Loverman?”

Ben snapped, “Take that fucking tube,” and softened his hands immediately after applying the mask to your face a little too forcefully. While you were still a supe and wouldn't be easily wounded, he felt a little bad for unleashing his strength on you. You're being a supe did not, however, mean that using force against you was acceptable. “You will carry it while I keep that mask on her face till we get to the car.”

Butcher followed Ben's instructions and grabbed the tube Ben mentioned. As he strained to hold the tube steady on his shoulders, Butcher muttered a groan and said, “This shit is a bit too heavy.”

Even though he was stronger than the majority of other humans even in his human form, Butcher found it difficult to carry the tube. His jaw clenched and his muscles tautened as he bore it.

Ben was furious and was trying to find a method to carry you as he made sure the mask stayed on your face and forced you to stay asleep. “Be a fucking real man for a second,” he cursed. Ben lifted you in his arms and carried you in bridal carry while the other hand remained still on the mask.

“I should have used Temp-V,” Butcher complained once again as he followed Ben, who was making his way out of the room in quick steps, while you slept peacefully in his arms.

“Maybe you should just grow your dick,” Ben remarked as he headed for the car after getting a deep breath of fresh air. Sitting in the rear now, Hughie was staring at them, mouth agape with worry, seeing you in Soldier Boy's arms, blissfully asleep.

Hughie tried to ask questions, but Ben shot him an angry glare and said, “Why the fuck are you waiting there? Fucking move.”

Hughie took a step forward and turned around without uttering a word. He watched, worried, as Butcher set down a big tupe on the seat next to Ben, who had come into the car, put you on his lap, and covered your face with a mask.

“Let’s fucking get the fuck out of there,” Butcher murmered after he gave a look to Ben and you.

Ben tenderly laid your body on his bed, and Butcher and Hughie followed him inside his room, their eyes wide with curiosity.

“What happened to her?” Hughie asked Butcher and Ben, but neither of them responded.

In the hopes that you would be more at ease, Ben removed the mask from your face and waited for you to wake up once more. He saw you gently open your eyes, and his heart raced. Uncertain of your response, Butcher and Hughie put some distance between them.

You opened your eyes and let out a painful moan. When everything became clear to your sight at last, it was then that you realized you were lying in a bed that was comfy.

Ben slowly sat down next to you, placing his large hands on yours and muttering in a dry voice, “Everything's good; you're good.”

Was it truly good, though?

With a feeble voice, you asked, “Ben?” while keeping your gaze on his green ones. He didn't look quite the same as when you last saw him. His beard gave him a more serious, grown-up appearance. “What's going on over here?”

The two strangers who were observing you intently caught your attention, and they inhaled deeply. Ben was about to grab your hand, but you quickly moved to put some distance between you and avoid his touch. You smelled a lot worse than you looked, and you were wearing a long, black coat. You checked your body, and your face wrinkled with loathing. Oh god.. For how long has it been?

You grimaced, gave Ben a fierce gaze, and asked, “How could you have done this to me?” before he could say anything more.

Ben was briefly taken aback, but he wasn't shocked that you believed he was the one who had fooled and deceived you, placing you in such a horrible situation for decades—even though it had all been Vought's evil shit all along.

"Course it wasn't me." Ben immediately defended himself, gazing over your body. “I didn't even know,” he said.

You raised your hand to interrupt him before he could say any more lies, saying, “I just need a shower right now.”

You were careful not to touch Ben while he nodded and apologized in a low voice as he attempted to assist you in standing up. The two guys across the room were simply silently waiting and observing you when Ben sent them an angry glare, and they quickly left the room. Though you were ignorant of the dynamics amongst the three of them, you knew you needed to use caution if they were Ben's new fellow soldiers. In the end, you had no understanding of what was going on, and you received no change from anyone.

There was an unsettling silence the two of you had while you were alone in the room, but he soon showed you the bathroom.

You murmured, gently keeping the coat against your body, “I need new clothes.” After everything that happened to you, you shouldn't have been concerned about how you looked, but you were unable to stop it. It was a natural inclination, after all, to feel clean.

Ben smiled warmly at your hesitant attitude as he went to the wardrob with pride and showed you the t-shirt, underwear and all he had previously purchased for you with Butcher's money. He wanted you to see how interested and ready he was to start things again with you, as he had already given it much thought. Not only did he take your suit from Legend, but he promised to display it to you later. Your suit wasn't a priority, considering that the chaos all around you had already overwhelmed you.

“I'll be waiting downstairs, so we can talk about what happened properly,” Ben stated after clearing his throat. Then, you took the clothes from his hands and entered the bathroom, locking the door as though someone would dare to interrupt.

You took the longest shower of your life, showered head to toe, put on the clothes Ben bought you, and headed downstairs. Ben and two strangers were watching the news on TV, which seemed a little unusual because it was so modern.

Ben did not make a scene, even though his face fell when he saw you sitting on the couch, distant from him. As you began to watch the news, you glanced at the gadget that Hughie was holding and clicked on it while wearing a serious expression. Then you turned to face Ben and requested, “Tell me slowly, what year we are in?” in a low voice.

With rush, Butcher responded, “It's 2022.”

“Oh my god,” you muttered, placing your hand over your forehead, while continuing to stare at the TV and gawking at all the strange things you had never seen before. Ben had stole your years.

Ben instantly spoke up and stated once more in a firm voice, “I didn't do this to you. Vought deceived both of us. Also, it has been about four days since those fuckfaces rescued me in Russia.”

“You’re welcome,” Butcher said, sipping his whiskey.

You questioned Ben once more in a suspicious tone, “How did you even find out what happened to me?” You had plenty time to ask all the thousand questions you had, but you still had priorities.

Ben's gaze strayed as he thought about sitting next to you and making a physical connection to ensure you listened him properly without you passing judgment on him, but he remained where he was. He never considered discussing Crimson again, but it seems that it was inescapable.

Ben only said, “I learned it from Crimson Countess,” trying not to show how insecure he was. He and the Countess had already done you an immense amount of pain.

With a sad smile, you nodded meaningfully and said, “Of course she'd be the first to pay a visit.”

She remained his main concern even after all this time and your efforts on his behalf. But now it means absolutely nothing. While you were sleeping, so many years had gone by, and nothing seemed to matter anymore. You felt like you had undergone a complete change from the person you knew in the past.

“It’s not what you think,” Ben said seeing your disappointed face.

“I really don’t care, Ben,” you simply said with all sincerity. You weren’t lying.

Although it was difficult to accept their relationship and everything that had happened in the past, you now felt a little foolish for not just letting go. In addition, you spent years in a metal box and were tortured because of your naive attitude. You felt lost, and you had nothing now. You were left without even a place to go.

“Do you have something to eat?” you shyly asked Hughie, who had a humble and kind expression on his face. You have questions, for sure, but you needed to eat something first.

Hughie quickly said, “Sure, we can order something.” And you thanked him with a smile on your face.

Ben took a deep breath and decided not to press the issue because he thought you were a little too sensitive and hungry. His whole body was itching to sit next to you, and his eyes never left you. He was never fully aware of how much his body yearned for your attention and touch. Perhaps since so many years had passed between you, this need and yearning had always existed. But you were not the woman he had known before, and your gentle but determined attempts to keep him at a distance disturbed him.

You leaned back as you ignored Ben’s gaze on you and tried to focused on the TV to see how much the world has changed.

“I visited her to ask what happened to you,” Ben suddenly said with a rough voice.

Without getting into an argument, you just nodded and carried on watching TV, saying, “Okay.”

There was a headline that said, ‘Soldier Boy's terror killed at least 50 people in a week,’ when the information first came on television.

Ben cursed loudly, and you murmered, “What?”

You were all fixated on the reporter commenting on the extent of Ben's damage to Ohio and New York while Butcher turned up the voice of the TV. You gasped as you watched an entirely wrecked street in New York and heard injured people telling the TV reporter how far Ben's explosion was heard from and how badly he damaged the lives of everyone inside, killing 19 people, including children.

Ben's face was unreadable as he stared at the television, lost in thoughts and feeling a weight of guilt in his chest. He had no intention of blowing up in the first place. He was aware that the Russian song was the reason behind his unexpected outburst in the middle of the street. He had no feelings of hostility toward people.

When they also displayed the doctor's picture on the screen—who was heavily involved in your torture—your lips parted in disbelief. The reporter was telling the public that Soldier Boy had blown up his house and him as well.

“What have you done?” you murmered to Ben whose lethal green eyes were fixed on yours.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿

A/N: Comments and reblogs are very appreciated!

And Happy Pride Month to my dearest readers and everyone! -`♡´-

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