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punchdrunkdoc · 11 months

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Part 2, Chapter 12

Summary: After the events of S3, Matt Murdock is trying to once again balance life as a lawyer and a vigilante. But he’s been scarred by loss and betrayal - will a mysterious new neighbour help him heal? Or will her secrets drag him back into the darkness?

Notes: This is a slow burn romance with an original female character, told in 3 parts. There is mystery, intrigue, action/violence and angst - all the good stuff!

Also available on AO3 and Wattpad

Masterlist

Reference pics

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PART 2

Chapter 12

Matt’s confession felt so monumental to him - representing a seismic breakthrough after months of denial and self-delusion - that a part of him thought those words alone would be enough to pull Calina out of her coma.

But there was no change in her still, sleeping form.

Matt wiped the tears from his eyes and moved up onto the mattress. He stretched out beside Calina and hoped that it might trigger some sort of sense memory of the mornings they would lie like this in his bed.

Then he continued talking.

If the Widows were right and there was even the slightest chance that his words could reach her and bring her back, then he would talk until his voice gave out.

And as the words spilled into the quiet room, it felt cathartic in a way. He’d spent months denying himself the truth of his feelings, and sublimating all the love he harboured for her. But now that he’d finally admitted it to himself, it was as if the floodgates had opened and all the thoughts and feelings and dreams that he’d stashed away came pouring out into the open.

He talked to her about the first time he saw her,

“…I think I fell in love with you right there and then, as crazy as that sounds. There was just something about you, standing there on that rooftop, your hair blowing in the wind…It was as if a part of you called out to me, and I couldn’t help but answer. I haven’t been the same since…”

And how the mystery of her intrigued him,

“…I heard you once, when you were in your apartment. Well, the truth is, I actively listened. You were playing music, one fragment of a song after another, and I couldn’t figure out why. But now I know - you were trying to find out what you liked to listen to. I remember that you stopped on a Nina Simone song, and you listened to it all the way through - we listened to it together…”

He told her of all the experiences he wanted to share with her,

“…I hate that you missed so much growing up the way that you did. I even started keeping a list of all the things I want to show you, and all the things we could do together. Just simple things, like going to the movies. You could sit and watch the film, and I could sit and just be near you as you enjoyed it. We could drive out to the seaside and talk a walk along the shore, or go on a proper vacation and be tourists together. I’ll do anything you want. As long as we’re together, I’ll be happy. If we did nothing for the rest of our lives but play chess and hit punching bags together I would be so incredibly happy, Calina. I’d only regret that I never found you sooner…”

How the apartment didn’t feel the same without her,

“…the new couch was delivered yesterday. But I couldn’t bring myself to sit on it. It feels like our couch. And it didn’t feel right for it to be there, in the apartment, without you…the place feels so lifeless now. So cold and empty without you…”

He spoke of everything and nothing, his voice hushed as he filled the air between them with teasing jokes and memories of the time they’d spent together.

“…you said you could only really sleep when I was beside you, but you’re taking it a bit far now, Calina…you need to wake up for me, sweetheart. I need to hear your voice. I’ve been going crazy without it. Talking with you is one of my favourite things, did you know that? I love to hear your views on things, and I love it when you get excited about a topic and want to tell me all about it. And I love to make you laugh. God, you have such a great laugh…”

And all the while he touched her. If his voice was the beacon in her darkness, he wanted his touch to be her anchor. To draw her back to the world…and to him. He played with her fingers. He ran his hand up and down her arm. He caressed her face, tracing over the arch of her eyebrow and the curve of her cheek.

At one point he propped his head up on his hand and smoothed his other palm over her head. He felt the braids in her hair and started to loosen them. “I remember you saying in the gym that you never wanted to wear your hair like this again.” When her hair was free, he ran his fingers through the long strands. “And I said at the time that I like your hair. The truth is, I love your hair. I’d sometimes wake up in the morning with my face buried in it. And I’d always stay like that until you woke, just enjoying the scent and the feel of it against my skin…”

As the hours ticked by, he sensed the shadows in the room shift as dawn approached. The chorus of birdsong in the woods changed from owls to larks, signalling morning. His voice got quieter, and his head started to feel heavy on his hand. He settled down on the pillow next to hers, and draped his arm carefully across her waist.

“…I heard you called for me, after it happened. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you when you needed me. But I’m here now. I’ll always be here - if you’ll have me. I’m sorry I messed things up between us. I swear I’ll make it up to you. But you need to wake up to give me that chance. Please wake up, sweetheart. Please come back to me…”

———

He woke to the feel of fingers gently brushing through his hair. He must have shifted down the bed during the night, because his head now rested on Calina’s chest - as if he’d needed to feel the sensation of her breathing in his sleep to convince himself she was still alive.

The soft touch came again, and he froze, scared to hope that it was real. Terrified that it was just a dream.

Then she spoke. “Matthew?”

Her voice was barely more than a whispered murmur, but it was the most wonderful sound he’d ever heard.

He squeezed his eyes shut to stem the tears that wanted to fall and pulled her tighter against him with the arm he still had around her waist. “It’s Matt, remember?” he managed to choke out.

“Hmmm, Matt.” She sounded groggy and only half awake, her usual early morning disorientation amplified by the length of her sleep and whatever drugs were trickling through her system.

He lifted his head and wished that he could see her face. He wanted to see her open her eyes - he longed for that visual proof that she was really back. He settled for listening to her breathe instead - stronger and faster than the night before.

And he basked in the sound of her voice...even though she was talking nonsense. “You’re gonna be late f’work,” she mumbled.

He smiled and reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear. “I’m not going to work today, sweetheart.”

Whether it was the caress or the affectionate name, something caused her heart-rate to jump. The beeps from the machine monitoring her chimed out at a staccato rate. “Shhh,” she admonished to the inanimate device. “You’ll give me away.”

Matt laughed. “I can hear your heartbeat without that, remember?”

“Hmmm.”

Unfortunately, the sound of her accelerated heartbeat brought the rest of the Widows running, and their arrival shattered the peaceful intimacy of the moment.

“Calina?” Yelena called out as she ran through the door. “You’re really awake!”

Calina turned her head away from her sister and nestled against Matt. “Still sleepy. Go’way.”

Matt laughed again, the relief bubbling up within him and spilling out as joy. He’d have been happy to follows Calina’s lead and fall back to sleep with her in his arms, but her sisters had other ideas. The medic - Sofia? - tapped him on the arm and said, “Give me some room.”

Her touch was polite but her voice was brisk and no-nonsense, so he reluctantly moved off the bed and waited in the corner of the room as she checked Calina’s vitals and examined her wound.

“Thank you,” Yelena said, coming to stand beside him. “We couldn’t bear to lose her too.”

“Too?”

“Kira…she didn’t make it.” The weight of Yelena’s grief was heavy in her voice.

“I’m sorry.”

She nodded. Before she could speak again, there was the sound of feet running through the cabin, and a desperate cry from the young Widow he’d met yesterday, “Anya called! The helicopter is back.”

“Fuck,” Yelena hissed.

“What’s going on?” Matt asked.

“Anya’s been monitoring the satellite feeds from this region. There’s been some suspicious activity over the last few hours - helicopters searching in a grid, SUV convoys on the roads to the east of us, that type of thing.”

“You think you were followed?”

“Perhaps. It might be nothing…but I’m not going to take any chances. Inessa, is Katya back yet?”

“Yes,” the other Widow replied, catching her breath. “She just parked up outside.”

“Good. Sofia, is she good to move?”

Sofia looked up from where she was checking Calina’s IV. “It’s not ideal, but she’s stable. I’ll give her something so the travelling won’t disturb her.”

“Travelling?” Matt asked. “Move? What are you talking about?”

“We’re getting out of here,” Yelena answered. She turned her attention to the other Widows and started barking instructions. “Be ready to leave in five. We need to scrub this place and make sure there’s nothing left behind that can link to us. We’ll ditch our phones on the way - I want us clean when we arrive at the new base.”

She marched out of the room and Matt followed her. He tugged on her arm to get her to stop. “Are you sure this is the best idea? She just woke up. What happens if the journey sets her back?”

“Then we’ll deal with it at the new base - where they’ll be a dozen Widows at our back in case we’re found again.”

“If it’s about safety, I can stay here with you and protect her.”

“This isn’t your fight-”

“Her fight is my fight.”

“That’s…sweet…or whatever. But we’re leaving, and that’s final. We’ll drop you off somewhere outside Manhattan.”

“Let me come with you. To your new safe house.” He could hear the desperate pleading in his voice but he didn’t care. He’d just gotten Calina back - in more ways than one. He didn’t want to let her out of his sight again.

“No-”

“Please, Yelena. I’m- I’m begging you.”

She paused. Then sighed. “We’ll discuss it on the way. We don’t have time for this right now.” She strode off to join the chaos of the cabin. The Widows were running from room to room, grabbing gear and weapons, and frantically wiping their prints from every surface.

Matt slipped back into Calina’s room, a still point in the centre of the storm. He sat on the bed and rested his hand against her chest, feeling the gentle rise and fall as she breathed. With her eyes closed, and all the wires and IVs already removed, he could be fooled into thinking she was just sleeping.

But he could smell the morphine in her veins, and the other drugs Sofia had just given her.

And he could sense her injuries. He’d noticed them last night, but he’d been too preoccupied pulling her out of that deep, far away place in her mind to properly catalogue them. Now they stood out - and they proved just how beaten up she was.

He skimmed his fingers lightly over the swelling on the side of her face, likely made by someone’s fist hammering into her cheek. The bullet wound in her side was a hot, angry tract tearing through her tissues. The knee that she’d wrenched weeks ago was inflamed again, and she was littered with bruises and scrapes and small cuts.

And she smelled like gunpowder and smoke, as if she’d been in an explosion.

“We’re apart for a few days, and look what happened,” he whispered, brushing his fingers through her hair. “I guess the sensible option is for us never to be apart again.”

Convincing Yelena of that would be difficult. But he was a lawyer, after all - he could reason his way around Yelena’s stubbornness.

“Murdock?” the woman in question called from the doorway. “We’re ready to go. Can you bring Calina out?”

Matt nodded and gently gathered Calina in his arms. Her head was a heavy weight on his shoulder, and he could feel her hair tickling the side of his neck. He spared a brief moment to press a kiss against her forehead and breathe her in deeply, relishing her beautiful scent. Then he followed the other Widows out of the cabin.

Where a large, long vehicle was parked in place of the van he’d arrived in yesterday.

“Is that an RV?” he asked, his voice incredulous.

“Yeah,” Katya replied. “We traded in the van.”

“Isn’t it a little…conspicuous?”

“We’re in a vacation spot. Driving a blacked-out van through the woods would be more suspicious, don’t you think?” She opened the door for Matt and he walked up the few steps into the spacious interior. “Besides, this way we have somewhere for Calina to sleep comfortably.”

She guided him to the bed at the back, where Sofia was waiting to monitor her patient. He lay Calina on the mattress and let the medic have her space.

As the vehicle started lumbering out of the clearing, Matt took a seat at the small table opposite Yelena. He opened his mouth, ready to fight his case, ready to plead with the other woman to let him stay with Calina…but he never got the chance.

He felt the prick of a needle against his neck instead.

And for the second time in less than 24 hours, his world went black.

———

“Hey. Hey, man. HEY!”

The insistent shouts and the light shove against his shoulder roused Matt. He scrubbed at his face and shook his head, trying to clear away the fogginess that still clung to him.

“Oh, good, you’re alive. Thought I was gonna have to do mouth-to-mouth or something.” The speaker followed up the words with a laugh that soon descended into a hacking cough. It sounded like an older man. He was to the left of Matt, and they were both seated on a cold metal bench.

Matt tried to stretch out his senses, to get a feel for where he was, but his mind was still clogged by the drug.

The drug!

The Widows had fucking drugged him again! Then they’d dumped him somewhere while they’d driven off-

Calina!

The thought of her travelling miles and miles away from him jolted him out of his daze. His head shot up off the glass structure it was leaning against. “Where are we?” he croaked out to the man next to him.

“Bus stop. Waitin’ on the No.7 to take me downtown.”

“Downtown where?”

“Danbury.”

Matt searched his memory. Where the hell was Danbury? “Wait, in Connecticut?”

“That’s the one. And here comes my ride.”

Matt heard the sound of a large engine approaching. It stopped in front of them, then there was the distinctive whoosh as the bus doors opened.

“You coming?” the man asked, rising from the bench, his knees creaking painfully with the movement.

“No. I’ll, uh, wait for the next one.”

“Suit yourself.” Moments later, the doors whooshed again as they closed behind the old man.

Matt patted down his pockets and sighed in relief when he found his phone - at least he hadn’t been dumped and stranded with no means of communication. He hit the redial button for Calina’s number, but as expected it just rang and rang.

He hung up then dialled Foggy’s number. It went straight to voicemail. Matt checked the time and swore. It was just after 4pm - Foggy was in court this afternoon.

He tried Karen instead, and exhaled in relief when she answered. “Matt?”

“Yeah.”

“Where are you? Foggy got this weird text from you yesterday then we heard nothing. Are you okay?”

Was he okay?

Physically…yes.

Emotionally…not so much. He was boiling with anger at Yelena and her decision to dump him like trash on the side of the road. He was annoyed at himself for not seeing it coming. And he was sick with fear for Calina. She was nowhere near ready for long distance travel - she’d barely woken from a coma five minutes before she was bundled onto the back of that RV. And God knows how far away they were going to take her.

God knows when he’d see her again…

“Matt?” Karen asked, sounding worried.

Matt shook his head. “I’m okay. But I, uh, kind of need a ride.”

“A ride? Where to?”

“Back to Hell’s Kitchen…from Connecticut.”

“Connecticut?!”

———

Karen’s car pulled up outside the diner two hours later. Matt had managed to find the small restaurant by following the scent of coffee grinds and cooking oil. He’d used the last few bucks in his pocket to buy a hot drink, then he’d passed the time hunched in the corner of a booth by the window, calling Calina’s phone again and again.

The first half a dozen times, the line just rang out.

The next half a dozen times, he got an automated message: ‘The phone you're calling is switched off, please try again later’.

He would have kept trying, but the battery on his own cell eventually died out and he was left to wait for Karen in silence.

He lifted his head when the sound of her decades-old Toyota entered the car park. She beeped the horn twice to let him know it was her, and he quickly gathered his coat and made his way outside.

“Do you have a phone charger?” he asked, collapsing into the passenger seat.

Karen laughed as she swung back onto the road. “Its nice to see you, Karen. Thank you for driving all the way out of state to come pick me up, Karen.”

Matt gave her a sheepish smile. “Its nice to see you, Karen. Thank you for driving all the way out of state to come pick me up, Karen.”

“That’s more like it. There’s a charger in the glove box.”

Matt connected the phone, and the moment it had enough charge, he called Calina again.

“The number you have dialled has been disconnected.”

Matt stared at the phone in shock as the new message sunk in. Then he remembered what Yelena had said in the cabin, something about arriving at the new base ‘clean’…

He’d lost his lifeline.

“Fuck!” Matt yelled. He slammed his now-useless phone against the dashboard. “FUCK!”

“Matt! What’s going on?”

“They ditched the phones. They ditched the fucking phones!”

“I don’t understand! You need to start at the beginning - what happened? Why were you in Connecticut?”

Matt explained about the call from Yelena, and waking up at a cabin near a lake. He told her about Calina’s coma, and how he’d stayed with her all night.

And how they’d been separated minutes after she woke up.

“And now I’ve lost the only way I had to contact her. I don’t know where she’s going, or what condition she’s in…”

Karen reached over and grasped Matt’s hand. “I’m sure she’ll be okay. From what you’ve told me, she’s a fighter. A little car journey won’t take her down. And once she gets to this new base, she’ll call you.”

Matt laughed, the sound bitter and hopeless. “She never heard me, Karen. She was still unconscious when I explained about Foggy’s mistake in the bar, and when I apologised to her for everything. When I told her I- I loved her…she never heard any of it.”

“But you said it yourself, she woke up. She saw that you were there with her-”

“Yes, but she’d just woken up from a coma. She was still half out of it and delirious. She won’t remember, Karen. And she won’t call.” Matt screwed his eyes shut, trying to block the desperate tears that wanted to fall. He covered his face with one of his hands, and whispered in defeat, “I’ve lost her.”

———

I giveth...then I taketh away...

I’m sorry!!

CHAPTER 13

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errorsharingiscaring · 2 years

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Moon Knight System Relationship Analysis + Other Notes (Episode 2)

Marc and Steven are here! Jake is missing! Marvel BANNED!

Disclaimer: I do not have DID and to my knowledge have never met a system. I will fix any mistakes that people point out.

TW: A bit of Swearing.

<_>

Straight into my heart.

That’s where they go.

I know this is how hyperfixations work but I am so baffled by how HARD these guys have clawed into my heart. I’ve rewatched the entire show beginning to end with full interest, not even wanting it as background noise for scrolling on my phone (even though I was scrolling through the Moon Knight tag) it was just that compelling – Marc, Steven, Layla, Jake, Khonshu, Arthur, just fricking everything like what the fish.

Yeah I’ll get bored of this eventually. This clinical analysis of each moment is killing the interest, so soon this is just gonna become another Marvel show that I remember being obsessed with but forget most important stuff about in like two weeks.

Until that happens, I wanna leave notes for myself when I come back to this season in the future. (istg if they don’t give a season 2 before they have Moon Knight appear in a major movie I’m gonna become a Jake Lockley stan out of pure spite.)

Let’s go!

Starting off the same way that the Alps dream ended – Marc's best attempt to make it seem like a nightmare to Steven. And honestly at any other point it probably would have worked again. Steven’s core emotion is denial, refusing to acknowledge that he may need help, refusing to talk to even his mother about his issues – Marc has probably been making Steven believe that he has the most vivid and wild nightmares in the world for a while.

But this time doesn’t work. Too much has come together, and as I said before, Steven’s “I’m gonna die” was him finally refusing denial and accepting that this is reality. So he wakes up running, with a tired sigh, broken from his own denial illusions, and the first thing he does – getting in front of a mirror and taunting Marc – was where Steven’s transformation from meek, shy nerd to someone who can actually hold his own begins. With sarcasm and frustration and anger, Steven without the lies he tells himself - “You there? Hmm? No?... Yeah [bitch], didn’t think so.”

And I think at this point when he sees Marc fronting at the museum, Steven has only an inkling about their DID. The way he called Marc not real - that was Steven calling himself insane, that he has voices in his head, you know. And while the jackal may have been invisible, Marc appearing on the cameras, very clearly a different demeanor and posture than Steven - “That’s not me” - it’s confirmation that he isn’t insane, that at least Marc is real.

But the frustration doesn’t end – the security camera footage was contradictory, jackal being “not real”, Marc “real”, and Steven, who has lived in denial for so long, can’t make his mind up fully that he isn’t crazy. So he seeks more proof – the storage locker.

Broken out of denial, Steven has no nice emotions to display. He’s frustrated, he’s lost, he’s angry, he is still very confused about what Marc actually is and how he’s affected his life. Added to his very real and reasonable anger is all the illegal stuff Marc has hidden away – all Steven sees are the worst parts of Marc, his country-hopping mercenary work that made him an international fugitive. From this point on, Steven is fully antagonistic towards a very real criminal that should be behind bars (in his opinion, at least), and the guy “that’s behind all of the bad things that have happened in his life” (in his opinion, obviously).

That’s why Steven is at Marc’s throat. And Marc reacts reasonably – how would you treat a person that obviously hates you? Be snarky and annoyed and sarcastic right back to them.

It’s miscommunication, it’s Marc’s main issue – he wants to protect Steven from this life until the very bitter end, when he has no other choice. Steven isn’t an equal partner to him like Layla is. Steven is... Well, we figure out what Steven is to Marc in Episode 5. Until then, the comparison of Marc as oldest brother, Jake the middle brother and Steven the youngest is quite accurate.

And this episode is where the main cast figures out that Steven and Marc are a system, separate alters. The one who figured it out first was Harrow – off-screen, mostly. In episode one, he calls Steven by Marc’s moniker – mercenary, someone that’s gotten in his way. But then in the Alps he meets Steven, a complete opposite of the mercenary – easy to assume that was a temporary act to get him out of a tough spot, especially the “Here you can have it! Oh no my hand has clasped around it!” (Classic taunt)

But finding Steven Grant in the museum he said he worked at changed things. From how Harrow talks to him, we can assume that while Harrow knows of the mercenary, it was probably only his second time actually meeting him – Harrow is trying to reason with a hired gun, trying to appeal to his morality, recruit him to his cult. Perhaps an inkling that Steven Grant and Marc Mercenary Spector aren’t exactly the same, but then he sees the calling card of Khonshu – flickering lights, mysterious wind, and he tries his scales maybe to kill him, maybe to prove a point against Khonshu. But it’s not what he expected - “There’s chaos in you”, scales in perpetual motion. (Which if we really think about it should be everyone’s - how can you know for sure that everything will occur in just the right way to make a person do the evil/good thing that the scales see? The whole concept of Ammit is apparently she knows you so well she can predict your actions in the future – taking in every factor around you, taking in every possibility, everything that can happen to you, heck, she can apparently see how other people around you will affect you, and she can see all of those peoples’ scales and somehow nothing contradicts itself and the future is just that predetermined that she can accurately say that this and this will happen – it’s just the same issue with time travel that MCU avoided with that “Your present is now your past” shtick. How omniscient is she, how far into the future can she see, could she have seen the world-ending events that shaped the Avengers – it would be worth freeing her for that, preparation for destruction- BUT THEN THE PARADOX OF TIME TRAVEL IF YOU KNOW THAT SOMETHING WILL HAPPEN AND THAT KNOWLEDGE IS WHAT PREVENTS IT HOW THE HELL WOULD YOU FIND OUT ABOUT THE EVENT IF YOU KNOWING ABOUT THE EVENT PREVENTS IT FROM HAPPENING AAAAAAAAAAA-)

Ammit is confusing. Harrow doesn’t seem to realize that. But he does realize that Steven Grant is not the Marc Mercenary Spector he is looking for. Few people could come to the conclusion of DID that easily, it’s not a common thing that pops into one’s head, but Harrow has some experience in that aspect. He was Khonshu’s Avatar – in a way, he had a Khonshu alter. Maybe the thought doesn’t fully form after he weighs Steven’s scales, but from how later on the “detectives” talk to Steven, it’s reasonable to assume the three of them came to the conclusion that they “should make sure”, hence the dance to bring Steven to Harrow’s community, where Harrow is then 100% sure.

Layla’s first thought seems to be “amnesia”. “You really don’t remember why we’ve been looking for this”, “I know you have the suit, you bring it out”. But then Steven dons the suit, and, subsequently, Marc. The difference between the two of them, how they’ve acted, how they look wearing the same armor – it clicks at that moment. There was her Marc – in his “best feature”. And from then on they’re separate.

So how does Steven come to terms with it? Well pretty much the whole episode people are mistaking Marc for him, and he has to keep saying (and reassuring himself) that it’s not him. The only person that seems to actually believe his dilemma – that he and Marc are not the same – is Harrow. Would be comforting, if it weren’t for the fact he wants to kill millions of people based on poor beliefs in an all-mighty omniscient being that has to transcend every time travel paradox ever created to be a good... god? Judge? Purger of the world? Thanos 2.0? Take out the mass murder and questionable moral standing and... yeah, Harrow’s comfort is comforting.

So does Steven believe he’s not insane? Maybe. Even in episode 4 he is adamant about Marc “disappearing” once he’s done with Khonshu, although that can be taken as just him biting back at Marc. If I had to pick a moment where Steven stopped treating Marc as an insanity-provoked hallucination, it would be post storage locker. At that point, he knew Marc wasn’t just a voice, he could be in control of the body the same way Steven is. And the money, the passport, it spoke to a history that this “voice” could have very realistically had, considering Steven’s frequent blackouts. He asks what Marc is, and even though his words sound ridiculous, there’s been a fair share of crazy these past few days. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard” - has a panic attack because the stupidest thing he’s ever heard is real.

DID is never used as a term in the show, it can be explained as both the showrunners/writers chickening out of an actual conversation about it, and it can be the fact that the system itself doesn’t know the term, nor do most, possibly all of the characters. But Steven listening to Marc in the conversation with Layla, seeming to understand that the two of them are separately in control of the body, is a confirmation for us that Steven is aware of what is happening to him, even if he doesn’t give it a name.

So by the time Harrow acquires the scarab and episode 2 ends, everyone important is aware that Steven Grant and Marc Spector are separate.

A bit of a tangent, Harrow is quite a complicated character. In the most metaphorical way possible, him and the Moon Knight system are the same. Both were abused by a figure of authority (Marc’s mom, Khonshu), both were shaped by that abuse (in different ways), and now are just trying to do what they believe in, seeking penance for what they feel was their fault (Marc remembers every person he killed in Khonshu’s name, even the cities he was in – he's a mercenary, it’s “what he’s good at”. Harrow enjoyed the killing, but was somehow brought out of that high and realized Khonshu enabled his most sinful desire. Marc wants to avoid killing, and is trying to be a hero by stopping a mass-murderer in the making as the only service he can offer, while Harrow wants to destroy all evil from the roots. Marc internalizes his abuse and punishes himself; Harrow wants to punish the world.). It’s tough to say if the only difference between them is the age they were subjected to their abuse, but while they are similar in many regards, they are fundamentally different.

Which is why Harrow thinks he can get Steven Grant on his side (or at least “reason” with him for the scarab) and why he is so wrong. Later on the system sees Harrow as their psychiatrist – he's more knowledgeable in this, he acts as comforting voice, but all while misunderstanding the differences between them so so horribly. Because Harrow doesn’t understand that he and the system actually want really different things, Steven is able to challenge his thinking of Ammit’s untouchability – sure, Harrow seems to understand his struggle and seems to understand the difficulty of having Khonshu as a voice in one’s head, but he may be what the system isn’t - a bit broken, almost crazy to blindly believe the purity that an extreme measure of judgement without trial is promising.

So the scene plays out as it does. And we get to enjoy every second of it.

(Tiny tiny side note – did anyone think that Steven was actually going to say Layla’s name when asked about the scarab? I know Marc is paranoid and underestimates Steven at this point, but… the boy is absolutely enamored with Layla and stopped in his tracks when Marc said “You’re gonna get her killed”, there is no way he says her name, even if he did put some trust in Harrow (which obviously no sane person would, he literally opened with “We want to kill millions of people :D”)

I guess Marc being this jumpy around Steven makes their relationship by the end all the more satisfying. This is where they started – and by god how far they’ve come.

(But Marc pls did you not SEE how Steven LOOKED AT HER he would rather get stabbed than let any harm come to her he is SIMPING.))

ADDED NOTE

Someone pointed out how Steven reacts after Harrow tries talking directly to Marc, trying to discredit Khonshu and turn the entire system over to his cult. Again, obvious failure, but at this point in the show Steven only knows Marc Mercenary Spector, he thinks the absolute worst of him. And the only explanation Marc offered for his existence was “I’m an Avatar of Khonshu, I serve him”. Steven was already doubting Ammit, calling her a weird crocodile lady – he wasn’t believing a word Harrow was telling him. When Harrow was talking to Marc about how awful Khonshu is Steven was listening and seeing Khonshu through the eyes of those that served him – and it just so happens that those are the people that hate him the most. Steven was looking at Harrow - “Trust me when I tell you, Khonshu, is a liar” - and then after “There’s always one last thing”, he looks to Marc, almost asking for an explanation, and Marc doesn’t say anything in response, just shies away from the reflection, like he’d taken a punch to the gut. He doesn’t deny what Harrow implied – that serving Khonshu diligently is just a way to speed up the process of getting rid of him. And in that moment Steven’s perception of Marc changes – and maybe, just maybe, he starts to feel a little pity for him.

Which would endear him to Marc more.

So Steven takes his stance.

Screw Ammit.

(A bit about the time travel paradoxes Amitt transcends – the more I watch this scene the more that “might do evil in the future thing” not being disproven sticks. Harrow is just utterly convinced Ammit is correct and when he questioned her in the past (that strangely quick response to child murder), he found an answer to continue his loyalty. Steven’s first thought is “trusting the judgement of a weird crocodile lady is a bit dodgy” and that stays the general idea about Ammit within the system. So on one side you have a zealot with unshakeable beliefs and on the other you have a little confused but well-spirited guy just trying to do his best. The time travel paradoxes aren’t even considered because I guess no one’s interested in the inner workings of Ammit enough to go past “oh she wants to kill children” and question how and why it isn’t unreasonable to some people?

I get the conflict, I get why Steven is as fired up about stopping Ammit as Marc is who is just there as a servant of Khonshu, but GODDAMIT CAN YOU AT LEAST THINK ABOUT MORE REASONS WHY AMMIT IS JUST THE WORST-CASE SCENARIO FOR A DREAM-LIKE ACHIEVEMENT?!)

Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee! My name is Steven with a V!

He is precious. And he’s gaining a bit of confidence (even if it is misplaced). And Marc agrees – “That was a hell of a punch back there” - while also being realistic – “Someone’s gonna get hurt if you don’t let me help” - good big bro, letting Steven test out his limits and realize on his own that he’s not quite there yet, which lets Marc use minimal convincing for Steven to give up the front.

(If I had a nickel for every time Marc looked to someone to tell him what to do in a situation I think he had well under control, I’d have two nickels, which isn’t a lot, but it’s strange that this first time he’s looking to Layla specifically to reassure/convince her this is him/try to apologize/something along the lines of remembering their bond and the second time he listened to Khonshu telling him to threaten a child with death after two failed attempts at getting crucial dig site information (it’s funny, Harrow misjudged the system’s motivations and now Marc misjudges Ammit’s followers’ loyalty. It’s almost poetic. If it wasn’t for the birb. “I thought he’d talk” - motherfucker your only understanding of humans and their inner workings is 1. A guy you manipulated so hard he literally didn’t see any chance of redemption for himself other than purging the entire world of evil, including himself, and 2. A fledgling system where each of the alters were living in constant denial over each other’s existence, wtf do you, a stupid flightless fucking pidgeon, know about people?

Whatever Marc thought to threaten the kid with was 10,000 times better than HOLDING HIM BY HIS SCARF OVER A FRICKING CLIFF.)

Oh right the relevance with Marc looking/listening to other people in certain situations – specifically, the ones described above. I don’t think it’s that Marc doesn’t trust his own judgement? It would be thematically relevant, with him hating his mercenary work, but then he would ask for advice way more often than he actually does.

I think it speaks to a different part of Marc’s character. And also the situations only have the similarity of Marc thinking he let the person he’s asking for advice from down.

With Layla it’s obvious – that was the first time she’s seen him in months, after he ghosted her. The way he looked at her, the stare they shared – it held a thousand words.

With Khonshu, he failed the mission twice and now for the third time, he actually listens to what he first considers to be bad advice. “He’s just a kid”, “He’ll talk”.

The part with Khonshu can be traced back to his abusive mother – you rarely don’t listen to what that kind of authority figure tells you to do.

But with Layla it may be a type of trust. Like how for someone he cares about he’s willing to put his life in their hands. He knew he needed to get the jackal away from the people, but he still looked to Layla to tell him that. It may just be their dynamic – when the deal at Mogart’s goes wrong, he shields Layla and immediately agrees with her plan. But while he seems reluctant, he does the same with Steven. He trusts his knowledge of ancient Egypt enough to let him front when absolutely necessary, and during that chase at the beginning of episode 3, why do you think Jake was switching in when Marc had the situations under control? Could it be because Marc would’ve actually listened to Steven telling him to stop?

It’s a stretch, I know. But I like to think that Marc chooses to relinquish control to very specific people, as a way of showing them how much he trusts and loves them, when he can’t quite put it into words.)

Anyway, Marc kills the Jackal.

And Steven is claustrophobic.

I mean it’s not said, not even particularly heavily implied, but do you hear his voice in this scene?

“So this is what it’s like?

Being on the inside?”

And how gentle Marc’s voice is?

“...yeah.”

“It’s horrible.”

“It’s alright, you’re alright.”

“...I feel like I can scarcely move.”

“It’s alright just breathe through it. It gets easier.”

“How long have you been doing this?”

“...

I don’t know, it’s... a long time.”

“I don’t like it.”

“Long time...”

“I don’t want it. Can I have my body back?”

“I can’t do that right now-”

“Please.”

“-Steven.”

First of all it breaks my heart, second of all this is one of the most compelling scenes in the show (If we don’t count episode five where literally every scene was perfect), this is the first time they both actually talk without the frustration and confusion that this sudden realization of their system existing was. Steven is quiet, nearly on the verge of tears, his hands are almost clasped together as if even in the reflection just a flinch is bringing him pain, and Marc is recalling the moment(s) he felt the same way and his voice is just so soft as he reassures Steven, like he’s giving him a calming hug with just his words.

Maybe he knows that Steven is claustrophobic, maybe it actually is a very difficult thing to change the perception of an eye so much that the reflection is not what it expects it to be. Either way, one of my favorite scenes in the show.

And once Steven accustoms to the feeling of being just a reflection, his usual frustration with Marc comes right back. “You can’t keep me trapped in here” - like you kept Marc trapped?

It’s an endless back and forth the whole series because, again, miscommunication, and because they don’t understand each other. Marc just wants Steven to be his “stress ball”, not involved in any of his mercenary work that he deems “shameful”, and Steven only sees the criminal in Marc, not any of the history or choices that led him there. And they don’t try to talk – I guess in a way they both think the other is ruining their lives at the moment and they just want the other gone. Put up the wall again, stop their lives bleeding into each other, go back into what life was like before – amnesia, sleepwalking, tiredness, denial.

But Steven is never going back into denial. And Marc can’t force him – eventually, he realizes he needs Steven.

But that’s later :)

Until then, Steven will shout the angriest words that, unknowingly to him, cause Marc the most pain, and he, in return, will be the most patient and self-deprecating and self-sacrificial he’s ever been just to try and reassure Steven and ease his anger.

And Marc tries to separate him and Steven, saying that his servitude is the price he pays, in the same sentence he says that they wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for Khonshu.

In an ironic twist of events, Marc, the alter aware of the system, is the one trying to claim individuality, while Steven, the one still quite unaware, is the one saying that one alter’s body count is all of theirs’ body count, refusing individuality and separate weights on their shoulders.

And notice how Marc’s tone changes when the conversation turns to Layla. The person he loves, the person he sacrificed his own happiness for, well, one of the people he’s done that for. However patient he is trying to be with Steven, he won’t let him say that he is being cruel to Layla, that he doesn’t care about her, that he’s a shitty human being for leaving her. It hurts Marc, to hear those words from Steven, who he also sacrificed time for just to convince him he had a normal life, that his fish didn’t die every time Marc had to go on a longer mission, that the accidental wakings during those missions were just bad dreams.

It hurts Marc. And it’s not the first time he lashes out in violence. He is trying his best, as a person who thinks he is undeserving of anything good in life, he is trying his best.

And he doesn’t get appreciation. Not yet.

Not to mention that Khonshu talks to him exactly how a manipulative, abusive parent would. Demeaning him, making Marc apologize, then suddenly acting nice to remind him why he stays in the first place. Pidgeon deserves to be bound to stone for eternity.

And episode 2 ends with a cool Cairo reveal!

The soundtrack slaps. It’s a fact.

Before this I haven’t really sat down to analyze the show, this was a really spontaneous thing. It’s surprising how much is in episode 2- well, after knowing the rest of the show. It’s only 6 episodes and not a frame is wasted!

It’s beautiful.

I love this show.

#moon knight #marc spector #steven grant #jake lockley #MKSRA #episode 2 #moon knight episode 2 #mk episode 2 #moon knight spoiilers #mk spoilers

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hxdrostorm · 1 year

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@corruptedforce has sent: Have you made any outright changes to the canon material in order to write your muse the way you wanted (entire scenes you chose to omit, chapters you say never existed, things you assume were never said, etc.)?What is an aspect of your muse’s canon material or canon existence that you never had the opportunity to explore but really want to?What is the general opinion of your muse’s fandom about them? Do you agree with it?For movie or TV muses, what is your muse’s favorite scene? Why? Can you show a screenshot?For movie or TV muses, what is a scene with your muse that you hate? Why? Can you show a screenshot? (For Rex & Fox)

Questions for Muns of Canon Muses [Accepting]

4. Have you made any outright changes to the canon material in order to write your muse the way you wanted (entire scenes you chose to omit, chapters you say never existed, things you assume were never said, etc.)?

// SW is always changing canon, I can’t keep up with Lucasarts’ speed.

Oh I most certainly have done that! Because, I have been enjoying to mix Legends canon (the one I’m still slowly getting to learn more of) with the current one (which is the one I’m the most familiar with). While TCW is obviously essential to Rex (I have to stick to it, no arguing there), Legends has plenty of material that I take into consideration, for their BGs (pre-AOTC) and how they operate. Even if at times, the EU feels like a whole ass acid trip. Unfortunately, there is still a lot I have to get through. So, until I’m well familiarized with the source material. I’ll be trying to fill in the gaps on my own, so I’ll change them on a later date should I find anything of substance to me.

Fox is the one I did the most obvious/blatant changes to, just so I could expand more on his story (I want him to live more than 5 minutes into the Empire).

5. What is an aspect of your muse’s canon material or canon existence that you never had the opportunity to explore but really want to?

// I have been meaning to do Empire era stuff since FOREVER.

Both Rex and Fox have PLENTY of things to do, in that time period. I’m not watching Andor, not sorry for that. I love that these two are in complete opposite sides, and they are perfect to show the utmost state of disarray that the galaxy finds itself during the early life of the Empire.

And there are also AUs that can be used here... Imperial Rex? Deserter Fox?

6. What is the general opinion of your muse’s fandom about them? Do you agree with it?

// You’re in my blog, you know damn well the whole ‘clones are a family’ fanon shit doesn’t stick here.

Rex’s fanon isn’t that bad, I feel like. Simply because, most people are well acquaintanced with this character.

But Fox? Nobody bothered to double-check, and they are in denial mode that they have uwu-fied one of the arguably worst clones within the GAR. And it will give you whiplash, regardless of where you’re coming from (as in-- your first contact with this character was either through the fanons, or through the current canon or even Legends [which is IMO one of the heaviest/most dark things I’ve seen, out of this source material]).

I’m not bashing or shaming, I can understand why these things are popular. People generally prefer easier to digest things. My problem is that... People try to take it as if it is, some kind of canon replacement. I hear way too often how ‘Fox is the fandom’s OC’. And as sb who LOVES, unpopular characters, this shit sucks for me.

7. For movie or TV muses, what is your muse’s favorite scene? Why? Can you show a screenshot?

// I’m fine :’)

// And this is from when Fives was drugged & we are seeing through his perspective.

8. For movie or TV muses, what is a scene with your muse that you hate? Why? Can you show a screenshot?

// Rebels my beloathed. Rex’s design & looks are fine........... To me the problem was how the clones were introduced in the series. I hate what this babies’ first SW show did. Yeah sure, Ezra calling Rex by his serial number, without any issues? Yeah fine & dandy guys. Wolffe’s PTSD? Comedy for the whole family. Gregor is just a uwu wacko anyway.

// Generally speaking I prefer phase 1 armors for the clones. But IDK, I don’t vibe with Fox’s design in specific. This is a case where the phase 2 armor, was indeed a great improvement. It just looks kinda of bland and forgettable.

#« fandom : star wars »#ooc /#thank you for the ask!#Would you like some salt in your tea?#corruptedforce

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rockwithnyong · 2 years

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𝑫𝒊𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒇𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓...?"

When my brother told me about what happened to you, it didn't seem to have an impact on me. How does one even respond to the news of death? I’ve seen countless movies and have sat beside those who cried. Maybe, I have imagined myself to be that way too.

But why did I? How could I? When it was my turn to hear the news, I fell asleep peacefully that night.

It has to be brought up twice until it hit me the next day my Uncle asked me the question; I wasn't dreaming. It was true.

You left us.

Yet, no tears fell. I just gazed back blankly. Was I in denial? I never knew something like this could be real or that sooner or later, it was my turn to hear this.

No. I didn’t want to believe that a person could just cross the afterlife. Easily. In a snap.

I held my chin high, unable to swallow it all at once especially when what broke me the most is when I sat with my grandmother as she whispered to me, “𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒐 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒎𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒅 𝒂𝒕 𝒉𝒊𝒎 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒑𝒂𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂 𝒗𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒕 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒌."

I remember ignoring him that day.

𝑰'𝒎 𝒔𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒚, 𝑨𝒎𝒂.

I wasn't mad at you. I was just sick that day and I know very well how much you cared for me. You never failed to show me — to show us, not faltering, not even one bit even if the distance between us is a journey.

I will miss you, I do. Even if I’m in my grumpiest mood, you remain light, you remain loving.

There will be no more be ‘the favorite grandchild competition’ — something I will truly miss. The banters and the ideas on proving that we deserve to be your favorite.

((𝐸𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑡𝒉𝑜𝑢𝑔𝒉 𝑤𝑒 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤, 𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑎𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑏𝑒 𝐾𝑢𝑦𝑎. 𝐻𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑎𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑏𝑒 𝑡𝒉𝑒 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑠𝑡 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑜𝑛 𝑡𝒉𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑒.)

I love you. I'm sorry that I haven't said that when I was growing up. If only I could say it face to face one last time, I’d take the chance and say it aloud as I hug you tight.

There are countless of things to say that I forgot to tell you when you were alive, but I cannot do it anymore because you are gone.

You are now out of reach.

It has been the 18th day since your passing and my world shifted. How do I continue living with you not by my side?

But this isn't a goodbye, Ama. This is simply, see you later.

#ThingsIForgotToTellYou

#MarkThatDate

****

I wrote this last year (February 5), 18 days after my grandfather died. I still missed him. I will always miss him. I missed him more because of Wonwoo's cover. But Iike him, slowly, on my own pace, I'm slowly letting go.

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testudoaubrei-blog · 3 years

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Well, it’s not quite a master’s thesis, but this is (the first of) a series of posts on why Catra and Adora are the best love story in the history of kids TV animation and maybe the greatest love story in the history of TV. This may in some ways be faint praise - romance on TV is generally not very good compared with books or movies. Often it’s just some will they/won’t they sexual tension that is defused by getting characters together and re-heightened by breaking them up. TV is full of nearly shark jumping pointless dramas like Sam and Diane (Cheers, holy fuck am I dating myself, though that was technically before my time), Ross and Rachel (Friends, which was no Cheers) etc, but also some less annoying couples like Ben and Leslie (Parks and Rec) or Amy and Jake (Bk99) who are mostly just kind of cute and fun. Other shows, like the X-Files, teased viewers for years with unresolved sexual tension. In kids shows most romances are, appropriate for their target viewers, mild, sweet relationships based more on self-conscious flirting and blushing than on complex and conflicted feelings or deep passions - which is pretty realistic when the characters are young teens or even mid-teens. Some of these relationships are really well done - Finn and Flame Princess, Dipper and Pacifica (yeah I ship them), the early stages of Katara and Aang (before the showrunners imbued this childhood crush with cosmic significance), Steven and Connie, etc. Catra and Adora, though, are different. Their love story is not a side plot or a sub plot, it’s the heart of the show. It isn’t a childhood crush, it’s a very messy and passionate relationship between two young adults. She-Ra is an emotionally complex lesbian romance just as much as it is a thrilling action/adventure show. Everything about their relationship is baked into the show’s plot, its themes, hell even its musical score. The dramatic tension between Catra and Adora is not the result of stretching out a flirtation for ratings, but a coherent dramatic arc that runs through the entire show. As Noelle said, he made Catradora so central that execs couldn’t take it out without ruining the show. And the show is better for it. In this series of posts I’m going to try to show why, as well as showing why She-Ra is such a fantastic love story.

First off, let’s talk about how Catra and Adora’s character arcs are foils for each other, and how they come together and apart through the series. This is actually a post that I’ve been working on for a while but I keep summarizing the show rather than cutting to the chase, so I’m not going to recite many plot points so much as sketch out what’s going on with the dramatic structure at the time. But also, let’s talk about what each character’s arc is saying, and how they are commenting on each other. Spoiler alert: Catra’s arc is a subversion and critique of stories of empowerment through ruthless self-assertion and revenge, while Adora’s arc is a subversion and critique of chosen one narratives and stories of self-denial and self-transcendence.

When the show starts, Adora and Catra are shown as rivals and friends - their first scene starts the recurring motif of them reaching out for each other as one of them dangles above an abyss, as well as establishing their flirtatious banter and easy camaraderie. We quickly learn that these two young women plan to conquer the world together. These scenes and later flashbacks show Catra and Adora as deeply enmeshed in each others lives, to the point where neither of them (but especially Catra) have clear identities outside of one another. There is so much genuine love on both sides before Adora leaves, but also resentment, envy and fear, especially on Catra’s side, as well as a protectiveness on Adora’s side that deprives Catra of her autonomy. They are both being abused by Shadow Weaver - Catra physically and emotionally, Adora emotionally. It wouldn’t be too much to say that Shadow Weaver holds Catra hostage to control Adora (this is why critiques that Adora abandoned Catra to be abused are actually kind of messed up, since they accept Shadow Weaver’s premise that Adora is responsible for what Shadow Weaver does to Catra). In addition, Catra and Adora actually see the world incredibly differently. Adora already sees the world in terms of right, wrong and her destiny to right wrongs - this is why it’s important for her to accept the Horde’s obvious lies - she couldn’t keep living if she didn’t. Catra, on the other hand, sees the world solely in terms of survival and personal loyalty - everything for her is about preserving herself and the person she cares about - Adora.

Then, when Adora finds the sword, she leaves because it’s the right thing to do. Catra doesn’t even have a concept of ‘the right thing to do’ being something she should care about, or perhaps, something she can care about as an irredeemably evil, awful fuck-up. So at Thaymor neither one understands where the other is coming from, and Catra and Adora begin to part. This is the first turning point in their relationship. Adora chooses duty over what she desires, Catra chooses to protect herself (such as she sees it) and nurse her sense of betrayal and abandonment.

Their relationship until Promise is a kind of weird Frenemy thing that is fascinating to watch and sold me on the show. Neither one wants to fully admit to themselves that the other is now their enemy, neither one has given up on changing the other’s mind. Each is furious at the other, and desperate to see her again at the same time. There’s a lot of heartache and just as much sexual tension, especially at Princess Prom. Both of them come alive when they fight each other (more about that in a later post). But they’re already growing apart - Adora embracing her destiny as She-Ra, Catra rising in the ranks for the Horde. Adora now has the purpose she always wanted, plus other friends and a sense of being chosen to do something great, while Catra now has power - the means to protect herself from people like Shadow Weaver as well as the vindication she had always been denied, and even the opportunity to beat Shadow Weaver at her own game.

The next turning point is Promise. Holy fuck, this episode. It’s an episode that is even more heartbreaking after you’ve watched the show because you know just how much worse things are going to get, and yet, it’s a necessary part of both of their character arcs. Even through season 1 Catra and Adora had remained very much enmeshed in each others lives in an increasingly fucked up way as they grew apart but refused to turn away from each other. Even though they aren’t -exactly- a romantic couple (Adora doesn’t recognize and acknowledge her feelings until the last episode of Season 5), Season 1 of She-Ra is one of the worst breakups I have seen on TV. As I said in a couple of previous posts, this is the kind of shit that the Mountain Goats write songs about. Everything that was poisoning their love for each other even before episode 1 bubbles to the surface and combines with them fighting on opposite sides of the war to make a truly fucked up situation. In the end, it’s Catra that makes the choice to turn away from Adora. This isn’t a -good- decision. It’s spiteful, and destructive, and based on an outright deluded understanding of their relationship (inspired by Light Hope’s manipulations and her own issues), but it’s in some ways a necessary decision. Catra has been so wrapped up in Adora for so long that she isn’t going to be able to figure out who -she- is without cutting Adora out of her life. And the same is true of Adora.

But each of them do this in about the worst way possible. Catra embraces destruction, ambition, manipulation and outright cruelty, turning the tactics of her abusers against them and against everyone around her. She first triumphs over Shadow Weaver and manipulates Entrapta into trying to corrupt Etheria itself. Meanwhile Adora ‘lets go’ and commits herself to the self-denying mantle of She-Ra. Over the next several seasons, their respective paths will nearly lead both Catra and Adora to their deaths (in the Season 4 finale).

For the next season (counting season 2 and 3 as one) Catra and Adora are still closely linked, but as enemies. Still, there’s more than enough flirtation between them (that ‘Hey Catra’ in the first episode of Season 2 is something else), and especially on Adora’s side we see her hold back with Catra, and often take responsibility for the harm Catra inflicts, just like she had when they were kids. Yet they still drift apart - after facing off every other episode in Season 1, they spend less and less time on screen together through season 2 and 3. Catra continues her ascent to power and descent into villainy while Adora becomes more of a stressed out mess as she takes the fate of the world and the wellbeing of everyone she cares about on her admittedly broad shoulders. Catra’s one moment of vulnerability is rewarded by Shadow Weaver’s betrayal and her exile, then Catra triumphs in ruthless badass fashion through sheer desperation and aggression. In the Crimson Wastes, we see Catra at her most independent, and she almost seems happy. But once Adora shows up and Catra hears about Shadow Weaver, she’s sucked back into the worst of her resentments, and she makes very clear that being happy is less important to her than making sure Adora is miserable.

This changes everything. Catra completely breaks with reality and tries to kill Adora, herself and the world rather than lose to Adora and Shadow Weaver (I do think it’s important to remember that she does that after Shadow Weaver nearly kills her). Catra betrays everyone around her when she exiles Entrapta, threatens Scopria and lies to Hordak. Then she flips the switch. When Adora tries to fix things, Catra fights to her own death to make sure that the world disintegrates with her. For her part, Adora fights first to understand what is wrong with the world and then to fix it. Finally she tells Catra that destroying the world is her choice and she has to live with it, decks her, and then sees her off with a death glare once the portal is closed. With this, Adora writes Catra off even if, as she says later, she never never hated her. By doing that, Adora casts off the guilt that had dogged her and takes responsibility for her own life rather than someone else’s - this is actually a huge step for her, and one that will become more important in Season 4.

Season 4 is in many ways the nadir of their relationship. They only see each other once during the entire season, in Fluterrina, when Adora tries to blast Catra, much to the latter’s shock. There’s a sense in that scene that Catra is trying to have the same flirtatious enmity she used to have with Adora, and Adora is having none of it. Catra almost seems hurt by this, which is an early hint at how isolated Catra is beginning to feel. Catra spends the rest of the season at her highest and lowest. On the one hand she spends most of 12 episodes winning by every standard she has ever claimed to care about, besting Hordak himself in single combat and making herself co-ruler of the Horde and coming within a day’s march of ending the Rebellion. In many ways it is the ultimate empowerment fantasy - the abused young woman has defeated her abusers, showed up everyone who doubted her and forced everyone to respect her. But I think it’s striking that the show starts with her and Adora dreaming of conquering the world together and in Season 4 Catra nearly succeeds in conquering it alone, almost like she was trying to live out her old shared fantasy while proving she didn’t need her former best friend.

At the same time, Catra is clearly miserable. She’s always been unhappy, but in Season 4 we see her completely isolated and lying to herself and everyone who will listen in a desperate attempt to justify her actions. Turning the tactics of Hordak and Shadow Weaver against them to gain power and then against Scorpia and Entrapta to maintain it haven’t vindicated Catra, they’ve made her more and more alone as Entrapta is exiled and Scorpia drifts away. Meanwhile Catra reaches out to Double Trouble, and her interactions with them reek of a kind of desperate desire to have someone in her life (the feeling of their interaction is of an unhealthy casual relationship where one partner becomes emotionally invested and the other takes advantage of that while denying the other the closeness they desire). As people leave her, one after the other, it becomes clearer and clearer that Catra doesn’t want power at all - she wants connection, friendship, love, and power is a very poor replacement. As I said in my long Catra rant, Season 4 is both her ‘Walter White as a Catgirl’ season and the beginning of her redemption. Everything comes to head when Sparkles destroys everything Catra has tried to achieve, Double Trouble delivers those harsh truths and Horde Prime shows up and makes it all irrelevant, just highlighting how futile all her struggles and sacrifices and crimes have been.

Meanwhile Adora spends Season 4 becoming her own her and her own woman. After telling off Catra, she grows more and more disillusioned with Light Hope and critical of Glimmer (though the latter has more than a shade of her old habit of taking responsibility for others - Adora’s development is not linear). She’s gained the courage and confidence to strike out her own path, not just follow a destiny. At the season’s end she once again breaks with her best friend to do what is right, and discards the destiny that she was being prepared for. But in this case she isn’t chasing one packaged destiny for another, instead she’s making her own choice and literally shattering the thing that she thought gave her life purpose. It’s badass, and heartbreaking, and along with decking Catra and jumping after Catra into the abyss (see below) it’s the perfect Adora moment.

In many ways Season 5 starts with Catra and Adora farther apart than they have ever been. They aren’t even enemies anymore, they’re completely out of each other’s lives. And both Catra and Adora are lost at the beginning of Season 5 - Catra is useless and alone on Prime’s ship, completely defeated despite ostensibly being on the winning side, and she goes through the motions of her normal plotting without any particular conviction and none of her normal flair. Meanwhile Adora is even more miserable and self-destructive than usual, throwing herself at Horde Bots and working herself until she drops of exhaustion. In a very real way they both stay lost until they have a chance to help the other. Catra takes responsibility for what she’s done and what she can do, saves Glimmer (at least partly for Adora’s sake), apologizes to Adora, and sacrifices herself. Adora only seems to come alive when she decides to turn around, face Prime, and save the cat. And when she does, Catra and Adora’s arcs, which had separated so completely in season 4, come crashing back together to end the series.

Adora during Save the Cat is such a contrast with the uncertain, hesitant and self-destructive wreck we’ve seen so far in Season 5. This is possibly her craziest plan in 3 years of mostly cazy plans, but she never wavers or questions herself. Even when Chipped Catra appears and we see Adora’s heart break while we watch, Adora doesn’t back down or relent. She keeps at it even as the tears stream down her face. She fights better trying to save Catra without She-Ra’s powers than she fought at the Battle of Bright Moon with them. Catra’s just about as desperate - we see her cry and plead, and now is probably as good a time to any to point out how amazing a job both VAs did throughout the show, but especially in this episode, and how good a job the board artists did.

Seeing each other for the first time in a year, and only the second time since Catra blew everything up, Catra and Adora are probably the rawest and least restrained we’ve ever seen them. There’s barely any banter, no bravado, and no pretense that they are anything other than two women who desperately need each other (Prime doesn’t help with ‘You broke my heart’.) Then Catra is flung to her death, Adora jumps after her, breaks both her legs in the fall (we see her crawl to Catra, as though she couldn’t walk) and becomes the real She-Ra. It’s such a triumphant and deeply queer moment seeing a woman transformed into a warrior goddess to protect the woman she loves, and it’s the reason that, as dark as it is, Save the Cat is my Comfort Food episode.

Let’s not sleep on Taking Control, though. This episode is like a microcosm of what this show does best, especially the A plot with Catra and Adora. Catra’s reversion to lashing out at everyone and her refusal to be open to Adora shows just how much of a struggle this whole ‘being good and trying to connect to people’ thing is. Catra’s outburst gives Adora a chance to stand up for herself and refuse to be Catra’s punching bag, while also not trying to control her. Adora’s ultimatum gives Catra a chance to reach out to Adora (quite literally), and allow herself to be vulnerable. In this episode, we see just how far Catra and Adora have come since the messed up stew of their relationship in Season 1. Adora lets Catra be responsible for her own actions; Catra lets herself be vulnerable to Adora and takes responsibility for her actions. They’re both better people and better friends and better partners than they were, and the show has shown this in a strikingly nuanced and realistic way.

The important thing to note in the next few episodes of Season 5 isn’t just how much closer Catra and Adora get to each other and how much they flirt (So much. So much, y’all) but just how -happy- they are. We see both of them transformed in the other’s presence. Basically, since they’ve parted, both Catra and Adora have been defined in no small part by how miserable they often are. They have both had their triumphs and their lighter moments, but there’s been a sense of melancholy dogging both Catra and Adora since episode 1. And now that they’re together again, that lifts, somewhat. Catra’s verbal barbs have lost their venom, and she can openly show how much she cares for Adora and even Bow and Glimmer. She’s still herself - snarky, cynical, somewhat devious - but she’s not engaged in a self-destructive zero-sum struggle with everyone around her. Meanwhile Adora has spent 4 seasons being a neurotic and sometimes nearly joyless mess who takes responsibility for everything and often doesn’t let herself enjoy anything other than the odd BFS group hug (exceptions include trying to uh...impress Huntara and reveling with the butterfly ladies of Elberron in Flutterina). Around Catra, though, she’s a cocky, swaggering jock who gives as good as she gets. It’s a side of Adora we’ve only seen hints of before, and one that’s so much more confident and joyful even as the world is ending around her. Apart, Catra had tried to protect and vindicate herself with power and conquest, while Adora had tried to forget herself in duty and sacrifice. Together, they can be themselves again. This dynamic is crucial to the show’s portrayal of Catra and Adora’s romance because it doesn’t just show how much they love each other, but how they’re -good- for each other now that they’ve grown as people, and that they are so much better than they were when they were apart.

Until Shadow Weaver shows up. Their old abuser reintroduces tensions but even then things are different than they were. Now Catra isn’t just resentful of how Shadow Weaver prefers Adora - she’s protective of Adora, which is clearest in Failsafe when she calls Shadow Weaver out for being willing to sacrifice Adora. And while Adora takes the Failsafe, it isn’t to follow her destiny or because she has a death wish - it’s because she loves her friends, and she is the only one who has any hope of doing this and living (though Catra’s suggestion that Shadow Weaver take it is a good one). And finally, when Catra leaves Adora, it isn’t because she hates Adora, nor, despite what she says, is it because she really thinks that Adora chose Shadow Weaver. At least, not exactly. It’s because Catra loves Adora, and can admit that to herself, and can’t stay around and watch the woman she loves sacrifice herself rather than choosing Catra. Before Catra leaves, she asks Adora ‘What do you want?” It’s a question that echoes Shadow Weaver’s speech in Episode 1: ‘isn’t this what you always wanted since you could want anything?’ As much as Adora has grown as a person, and defined herself and stood up for what she thinks is right, she still has never answered that question - it’s never been ‘what do I want’ but ‘what do I have to do?’ and that’s how Adora answers Catra’s question. This is Adora’s last gasp as a self-transcending hero, letting go of what she wants (not that she ever dared articulate what that was) in order to do what must be done. And it nearly kills her and dooms the universe, because Adora can’t be the hero that she needs to be by being anyone less than herself.

But it’s losing Catra that inspires Adora to tell off Shadow Weaver for good (not that she’d ever really warmed to her after season 1). And it’s love for Adora that inspires Catra to stand up to Shadow Weaver and demand that she do the right thing. In both cases, Catra and Adora aren’t just standing up to their abuser, but holding her to account for the harm she’s caused, and it’s the love that they have for each other that inspires them to do this. In Catra’s case in particular her refusal to let Shadow Weaver weasel out of finding Adora is a much greater triumph over Shadow Weaver than beating her up and breaking her mask in Season 1 - it’s proof not so much to Shadow Weaver but to Catra herself that Catra really is better than this and that she deserves better than this. It’s not turning her abuser’s tactics against her, but truly holding her to a moral standard and demanding that she do the right thing.

And then there’s Catra and Adora together at the heart. Catra has already come back for Adora and stayed to the end, choosing to die with her even if she can’t share a life together (not out of some death wish, but because Adora needs her). And Adora, who’s been avoiding answering the question for three fucking years, finally let’s herself want Catra when Catra finally confesses her love (breaking the last of her self-protective shields) and asks Adora to stay -for her-. And by admitting what she wants, Adora can truly be at peace with herself and be the hero she needs to be, lesbianism saves the universe, The End.

So anyway, that’s how Catra and Adora’s stories are woven together and how they compliment and comment on each other. Narrativiely, Adora and Catra start together, come apart, find something of themselves, and truly find themselves and each other when they are reunited. Thematically, they are critiquing seemingly opposing narrative tropes - empowerment narratives and narratives of self sacrifice. But by showing the flaws in both types of story and showing how neither self-seeking empowerment nor self-negating self sacrifice can actually make us happy, She-Ra asks and answers more profound questions than most prestige dramas for adults do. I’ll get into how the show sells the idea that the power of love can bring us happiness (and save the world) in a future post. But next up, I’m going to celebrate just how much Catra and Adora’s relationship revels in ambiguity, complexity and contradiction and so tells a grown up love story in a kid’s show.

#she ra #she ra spoilers #she ra adora #spop #catradora #she ra netflix #she ra and the princesses of power #goat ship #long #meta

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genshin-impact-fics · 3 years

Text

Streamer!Genshin Reacting to Character!(Y/N) Dying in Game

!Warning!: Major character deaths & angst

Characters: Diluc, Venti, Childe, & Zhongli

Diluc:

It was a race to get inside one of the bases of the Abyss Order to put a stop to whatever plans they were in the process of executing that could potentially put many lives in danger. Diluc was rather calm while playing though it would be a lie to say that it wasn’t a bit annoying that the route to the domain was timed

It was once inside the domain did things pick up fast as it seemed to be a fighting wave system which after beating the first two rooms there was a short scene where in the end Lisa and Amber stayed behind to hold off the incoming enemies so the rest of the group could go further. It seemed like forever doing some of the puzzles to unlock the doors to reach the next fight

In that fourth room after the defeat of hilichurls and abyss mages did suddenly a short cut scene appear to show the appearance of an Abyss Lector. As remembering how much he hated fighting this guy in the spiral abyss he already knew what he was in for; however that was until your character stepped forward with your weapon ready. Diluc was actually sad to have to leave you behind as he was hoping that you’d be one of the characters that went with him to the very end

“I think I’ve watched enough shows and movies to know what this could be leading up to.” He’d comment to his viewers as he finally reached the destination where the Abyss Herald was. Finishing the fight triggered another cutscene as the traveler’s sibling appeared and was making their small speech, asking if the lives of the “friends” the traveler made were worth losing

Diluc is watching with a straight face as he kinda expected this but the who was what he wasn’t sure about and truthfully the only one he’d be truly heartbroken about is your death, but they wouldn’t kill you now of all times right? Wrong; soon the cutscene finally came across where they had left you and you were leaning against the wall extremely injured with your weapon laying beside you. Diluc is frowning cuz he has to watch you die now

Listening to your final words as you spoke to no one Diluc would sulk in his chair a little. In the last moment before your eyes closed, if you mentioned something about not getting to tell his character your true feelings it is visible that Diluc looks like he wants to cry(but he doesn't). Once the screen showed the mission complete he’d grab the plush he had of your character and hold it looking at his camera. “Of all the characters I thought were going to die, I wasn’t ready for it to be (y/n).” At that point he’d probably call it a day from there but he’d still talk to his viewers as he probably would watch the tribute videos that fans had already made

Venti:

Everything was in chaos as it looked like archon war 2 was going to be taking place, but this time it was a war between the Abyss Order and the Archons. He was heading to Mondstadt to help and to check on you. Dvalin was flying around sending attacks at the abyss members. “Ah traveler there you are!” The sound of your voice as you landed before him; as weird as it was to see you in your archon robes was odd but you looked so good! After a short conversation you had gone flying off and it was time to get back to fighting

Things were looking good as it seemed like they were winning against the abyss order though it wasn’t over yet. It was until up in the air did a cutscene starting showing you and the traveler’s sibling fighting going at it. Venti is so captivated by how serious and cool you look fighting, but it all changed when the sibling landed a blow that caused you to fall from the sky ending up falling into the Whispering Woods

Venti couldn’t run fast enough to get to the woods to check up on you but when he did the first thing he saw was the sibling standing before you. He’s already sad and yelling at the sibling for hurting you though it seemed that now he was there the sibling went and disappeared revealing the real condition you were in. “No, no, no! This better not mean (y/n)’s dying.” He’d say in denial as he’s already starting to cry a little

“A-Ah Windblume h-haha… Sorry you have to see me like this.” Even in a moment like this you gave him such a cheesy grin until you seemed to grimace in pain. “Unfortunately it seems like… This is it for me. As long as the winds blow I will always be with you, so please watch over Mondstadt for me.” Your words were making Venti cry as it was like back in your story quest but only ten times worse. And to think it was already painful as it was your next words that did him in. “Maybe in another life we will find each other again and maybe then we can be together.”

Watching you start to glow until you turned into partials of light till nothing of you was left, Venti is devastated. The chat is crying with him as he’s saying how awful it was that his sibling had killed the love of his life! His viewers are going to send him fanart and fics to look at that was an alternative that you lived in the game

Childe:

It was a big fight with the confrontation of the Fatui Harbingers, facing off against one of the other stronger members that blocked the path to proceed to seeing the Tsaritsa. The boss’ first stage was fine; however during the second stage it seemed after losing a certain amount of health the damage that Childe was dealing significantly decreased.

It was when the cutscene started that Childe was already dreading the foul legacy form he’d be facing this time. You suddenly came out of nowhere and already in your foul legacy form yourself Childe is going crazy over how cool you look; he’s also swooning at the fact that you’ve come to his rescue. The fighting progressed until you landed a successful hit that weakened the other harbinger; however, at that same time the other harbinger managed to hit you with a powerful attack

Childe is screaming at the sight of your mask breaking while you fell to the ground. He’s so glad that his character is running over to check on you instead of the fight picking right up, but he’s already feeling the feels hit him hard cuz he hates seeing you hurt. Seeing you back to normal, the damage you sustained was really bad; then the worst thought came to his mind. “This-This better not be what I think it is,” he’s saying not looking away from the screen listening to you weakly talk

“Haha don’t give me that look sweetie, I couldn’t just let this be where your journey ends.” Hearing those words and the nickname you used for his character was sad. “To think we’d be able to travel together more, but hey… Promise you won’t stop fighting and could you look after my siblings for me.” Childe is literally crying now that the reality of the situation is clear. If he gets a choice of dialog to choose from he is going to pick the choice that says that he pinky promises

If your character smiled at the choice he wanted to smile but he’s also just sad, you were dying in his character's arms. If you had given a small love confession in the little bit of life that was in you, he’s going to ugly sob and once the fight was starting again he needs to pause by going into his bag

Immediately he goes getting his big plush of you and coming back to hug it and cleaning his tears with his sleeve before looking at the camera. “I wasn’t ready for this, my baby!” He was not expecting to be losing you; he figured that some characters would possibly die but you were the last character he thought would be killed off in the game. There’s Fs in the chat all around and the crying emote; it’s sad boi hours in this chili’s. He doesn't wanna do the fight but also he gotta avenge you so this last stage fight was for you. Afterwards he’s gonna go look at fanart and video edits

Zhongli:

After helping some of the other nations and their archon’s fend off the abyss order it was time he headed to Liyue to find you. Of course as usual it wasn’t going to be as easy as running around the harbor until he got word from Xiao that you were in Cuijue Slope. So he headed over to help you before anything seriously bad could happen to you

Getting to the open area there you were fighting against the sibling as you were even in your archon robes. Going in and interrupting the fight his sibling clearly looked annoyed and proceeded to try to get him to side with them which of course he didn’t. A Herald appeared to allow the sibling to get away which the fight with the Herald commenced

Just when Zhongli finished up the fight thinking he had won it strangely went to a cutscene as his character and you started to talk; however it was when the fallen Herald came out of nowhere about to attack his character but must to his surprise you shielded him not only taking the hit, but also using your elemental burst to finish off the enemy. Zhongli is frowning at how badly you were hurt as he already has a bad feeling this wasn’t going to end good; the traveler was helping you sit up after having fallen over

“I’m glad to see that you aren’t hurt my friend.” You said as you certainly have seen better days. “Sadly I believe my time has come… Do not be sad dear friend, I have lived many many years… As knowing you has been life changing. Though rocks change from erosion, know that no time will change how I felt about you.” Your words broke his heart as you had such a soft expression on your face as your body began to glow and before he knew it you turned into particles of light and disappeared. He probably wouldn’t cry at most maybe a tear but he is clearly upset about your passing in game and would take a break to talk to his viewers and maybe look at the fanart that surprisingly had been put out already

#streamer au #streamer!genshin x character!reader #genshin x reader #genshin scenario #genshin imagines #genshin diluc #diluc x y/n #childe x reader #genshin tartagalia #genshin childe #venti the bard #genshin venti #venti x y/n #zhongli #genshin zhongli #zhongli x y/n #angst

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lovesick-panmess · 3 years

Text

Protect Them

Soo I know I'm way overdue with the 3rd part of my Armageddon AU but I've actually been replaying the lessons so I get a proper feel for what I'm writing, so to make up for it and to get this idea out of my head I've been thinking about it for days here is a related fic between the oldest brothers

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Levi can count on one hand how many times he's seen Lucifer coming home injured. The Avatar of Pride could easily crush irrelevant demons with his glare and he proved worthy of Diavalo's right-hand man for a reason... But the first time that Levi remembers was on a travel mission with Lord Diavalo within a year after their fall from grace. It was a distant memory, seeing Lucifer stumble up the stairs blooded up and adamantly refusing care from any of them, even Mammon who was following behind his every footstep. He had gotten used to such behavior and just settled for turning up his headphones on his way to the safe haven that was his room, stopping when he noticed the eldest's door cracked open. He watched Mammon gingerly wrap the bandage around his shoulder, blinking back tears in his eyes and shaking his head vehemently as Lucifer spoke. The music was loud and distracting he just settled for reading their lips-

"Mammon I need you to do this for me.."

"I won't! There's no need, ya just paranoid-!"

Watching the tears well up made Levi shift, uncomfortable and jealous, wondering what bond allowed them to be so vulnerable so open. Hadn't they all fought their father together? Rallied behind him so readily behind Lucifer, their Morningstar that only shined a light that only Mammon was allowed to see. He lingered before continuing to walk down the hall, to dwell in his own sunken loneliness but hearing Mammon speak one more time before the door had shut.

"..I'll do it, alright? Just stop ya crying, Luci.."

He had felt the deja vu of that very moment playing out in front of him, though this time he was hiding from Mammon in his secret spot in the living room. They had planned to go to the movies in an hour and Levi knew that Mammon would try to find him to convince him to pay for the tickets yet again so he decided to wait out the time so that scumbag would have to bring his wallet. It was a surprise to see the door open, everyone else is out and Lucifer's return to be scheduled for a few more days, but instead, the eldest had come early with visible wounds and beatings. Levi felt frozen, debating on whether he should slip out to help or stay putt but once again Mammon comes down the stairs like it's his calling. "Lucifer? Let me help you!" Denial was the first given reaction, the eldest's heart too hard and stubborn to ask for help before collapsing into Mammon's arms.

Levi followed with anxiety brewing in his chest, now wanting to just hide away in his room since plans were clearly on hold and he could do nothing to help the pair. Not like they would want his help, a shitty pathetic otaku wasn't much good at bandaging wounds, not like he was able to get much practice like Mammon did. Jealousy seethed, it made his heart race as he hid to the side of the door at the mention of his name.

"We have to tell him, Mams."

"We don't have to tell him shit! It's fine like this...Levi doesn't have to be involved."

It was confusing to be thrown out of the loop, but it hurt to hear Mammon so effortlessly fight to not include him. Maybe the second-born felt that Levi wasn't worth it? Too weak and unable to do..whatever it is they are arguing about, even so, it was odd-looking into Lucifer's room. Mammon unafraid of the eldest's temper and even being so bold as to glare at him while cleaning his cuts, Lucifer had an expression of utter fondness that was intertwined with an unlabeled fear, one that only he seemed to see.

"Mammon, you know it takes a lot out of me to..admit this. I'm almost jealous that you're able to view me so..."

Shit shit shit, he had been so entrapped in their conversation and his own envy he hadn't realized that it was emitting throughout the hall. He stiffens when Lucifer calls his name, slipping out from where he was hiding and now embarrassed. "Levi..come here please." He notes that Mammon refuses to look at him, biting his bottom lip hard as he sits next to his brother, so not used to this soft tone from him. He really must have stepped into a completely different world, one where Lucifer is willing to fight tooth and nail with his own pride in order to tell them the truth. And what a horrid truth it must be.

"Lucifer what's going on? Why is Mammon..." He trails off, feeling Lucifer's hand skim through his hair, and despite his own embarrassment leaned into the comforting touch and suddenly the bottle of Demonus was looking very tempting. "Levi...I would like to involve you in something very important, in order to protect the others." Lucifer's words were slow, each one taking some kind of will to overcome his pride, his wings twitching in what Levi could easily place as anxiety and one he knew way too well. "I'm not allowed to say anything about the threat outside of the Devildom but it puts us at risk and I...There may be a chance I won't come back."

His stomach drops, he doesn't realize that he's shaking until he feels Mammon's arms wrapping around his shoulder, shaking his head in pure denial. Not Lucifer, the most powerful one of them all, their eldest brother not coming back. Such thoughts were unfathomable to even believe, much less considered as a probability to the point that they had to talk about it. Acknowledge it and take action, Lucifer keeps talking and Mammon presses Levi closer to his chest, "I talked this with Mammon since the beginning but now we believe it's time to tell you in case something were ever to happen to the both of us and you would decide when to tell Satan..."

The prospect of such responsibility makes Levi feel like a fish out of water as he gulps for air yet in that same breath go on a rampage of self-deprecation and drowning doubt. How he's not ready, he's a good-for-nothing shitty pathetic otaku, he can't protect his brothers, he's weak, he's nothing, if Lucifer and Mammon are gone then there would be no fucking hope for them. The two oldest look at each other, small bits of regret building up from the pressure and burden they had put on him, Mammon gently rubbing his back and Lucifer cupping his face. "Leviathan please breathe."

His body does it automatically before he can think about it, the air in his lungs felt like boiling water as the panic slowly dissipates in his chest. All that was left was his own soft mutterings, so sure that Lucifer was probably disappointed that he has to trust in Levi of all people to protect them, he leans against Mammon who nudges him affectionately before resting his head on his shoulder. "I...I haven't really done anything good since...I was General...how can you be so sure in me?" He asks but squirms unready for whatever the answer might be, though he's unable to mistake Lucifer's radiating pride that he feels.

"Who's the one who came up with the plan on where to steal the weapons in the Celestial Realm?"

"M-Me but I-"

"And who helped convince the others to lay low while we defended the base?"

"I did but Luci-"

"Who's the one who took an arrow for Mammon while he was trying to protect me?"

"Lucifer-!"

He gets cut off with a flick on his forehead, his lips set in a pout but meeting the Morningstar's expression that made butterflies bloom in his stomach from overwhelming pride had him turn away and looking down at the floor. "Levi, get out of your head for one second and look at how smart and tactical you are. When it matters...when there is no time to panic. You're the third strongest family for a fucking reason, you should start believing it." The unusual confidence makes him flush but it's really Lucifer's words that bring the tears, no longer from fear but slowly coming to the realization that Lucifer and Mammon too had faith in him...they always did.

"Do ya still wanna join the pact? If ya wanna think about it, ya still can Levi." He blinks at the fact that Mammon had really been silent this whole time and just hugging him, the second born now getting up to tighten the remaining bandages. "Did you think about it, Mammon?" Levi knew the answer in his gut, only the blind would question the unwavering devotion that Mammon and Lucifer had for each other, only further cemented as the Avatar of greed simply shakes his head. He feels a small smile form on his face, "Then I don't need to think about it...I want to do this."

By the next few hours, any of the remaining tension and somber feelings had slipped away, replaced by a calm atmosphere that usually would not last long in the House of Lamentation. The melody of the cursed record floated and hung in the air as Levi rested on the floor in his demon form, the pact officially made and learning about the secret doorway by Lucifer's bookcase, definitely locking that information into memory. He sees Mammon grinning above him, curiosity embedded in his features, "So where'd ya decide to put the pact mark?" Levi lifts his sweater, the symbol of the three still glow fresh on the side by his ribs, and Mammon hissing with empathy.

He wanted it to hurt weirdly enough, to serve as a forever reminder that this pain was temporary but the pain of losing his brothers would surely last till the end of time. Mammon shows the mark on his hand, Lucifer clicks his tongue in disapproval as someone might ask about the pact but the second brother waves his concern away. He enjoys looking at the pact, the constant reassurance that they would be okay when the word goes to absolute shit, and Lucifer couldn't find any argument against that. They both look at the eldest who crosses his arms with a sharp, "No-" before puppy eyes come into play and Lucifer's pride can not save him from that.

What they both don't expect is for Lucifer to turn around and spread his wings out as if to show off, but then they see it. The markings trailing up his spine and next to the scars of where his two wings used to be, Levi is the first to reach up and touch it, internally blaming the remnants of Lucifer's pride that is making him so bold. He sees his hand tremble but luckily he is able to hold his voice steady, "Just because we made this pact..doesn't mean you both get to just fuck up. Y-You both should always come home." Lucifer nods, Mammon kisses his cheek and Levi struggles to hide his tears.

When Levithan leaves the room while closing the door behind him, reality, as he knew it just a few hours ago, wasn't all that different and he can hear Asmo drunkenly cheering as Satan carries him through the door. "Hey, Levi! Don't hide in your room- you better come join us." He doesn't give his thoughts a chance, heading down the stairs with a small smile. The world hadn't changed, but Levi would be forever.

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AHHH THIS HAS BEEN SITTING THE DRAFTS FOREVER I'M SO GLAD I FINISHED IT. Please please let me know if I should make an explanation post of how the pacts would work (it will most likely be headcanons cause I don't know how they work in canon 😪😪)

either way, I really hope you enjoyed the fic as I did writing it! I'm still working on the next part for the Armageddon AU so bear with me 😭

#obey me #angst #lucifer angst #mammon and lucifer #obey me angst #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me shall we date?#obey me leviathan #levi angst #mammon and levi #mammon angst #Lucifer angst #armageddonau

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eternalsimp · 3 years

Text

Cursed Fears (pt 3)

Genre: Hurt/comfort, smut

Word Count: 5117

Warnings: NSFW 18+, aged up Megumi, swearing, use of female pronouns and anatomy, very jealous Megumi, rough sex, praise kink, overstimulation, slight orgasm denial, some degradation, spanking if you squint, oral sex (m. receiving), marking. Minors DNI.

Author Note: This is the final (?) part of a JJK mini-series I did but it can be read as a stand-alone. Parts 1 & 2 are up on my blog (IDK how to make links)

You were pulled from sleep with the sound of your phone vibrating on the bedside table next to you. You crack your eyes open to take in your surroundings for a minute and try to ignore the insistent buzzing of your phone. Mid Morning sunlight is streaming through the open window, casting a blanket of warmth in the otherwise cold room. Megumi's divine dog has moved off the bed and is laying under the window where it can’t be disturbed by the light. Megumi has his face buried in your neck, arms still wrapped tightly around your torso, and you can feel his warm breath fan out against your skin.

Your phone starts to ring again and you carefully move to grab it, trying not to disturb your sleeping boyfriend. You turn it to see Nobara’s name and picture displayed across your screen and debate sending her to voicemail. You decide against it, knowing she would just call you again.

“Hello?” You stifle a yawn and hear Megumi grumble incoherently behind you.

“Y/n! I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all morning! Are you avoiding us?” You pull the phone away from your ear to try and escape her scolding. You turn your attention to the clock on the bedside table showing that it was a little after 10 am.

“I was sleeping, I’m not avoiding you, psycho. And who is us?”

“Oh yeah, Itadori and I are hanging out. We are actually pretty close to where you and Fushiguro live which is why I was calling. Wait, didn’t you have class this morning?”

“I’m kinda playing hooky, Megumi, and I didn’t go to bed until pretty late and I wanted to sleep in.” Out of annoyance, Megumi grabs your phone out of your hand and rolls onto his back before pressing it to his own ear.

“What do you want Kugisaki?” His voice is still heavy with sleep, and you would normally swoon from how deep it was, but you were too distracted by him interrupting your conversation. You roll over to lay your head on his chest and nudge the phone away from his face to click the ‘speaker’ button so you can hear what Nobara is saying.

“... and you’ve been hogging all of my best friends' time lately so what I’m thinking is you and Itadori can hang out so her and I can have a girls day.” You can hear Yuji in the background correcting that you were both of their friends and he wants to hang out too.

“Well seeing as how we are both still in bed, it’s probably gonna be a while,” Megumi says flatly, probably hoping she’ll drop it and be content with just Yuji’s company.

“Ooohh, am I interrupting something fun?” You can hear her words dripping in sarcasm, wanting to fluster you and Megumi. Your boyfriend however decides he has other plans.

He cocks an eyebrow down at you, “yeah actually you are,” and pinches your thigh to elicit a sharp gasp from you. You bolt into a sitting position and feel your face heat up with embarrassment. Nobara is sputtering on the other side of the line and you swat his hand away from you as he sits up too and tries to pull you back against him.

“Megumi Fushiguro! Give me that!” You snatch your phone back and shove him off the bed, his body landing with a hard thud on the floor. “Sorry, he woke up in a bratty mood apparently.”

“Fushiguro? Being playful? I never thought I’d see the day!” Nobara snickered over the phone. You leaned over the side of the bed to see Megumi pouting at you and you stick your tongue out at him childishly.

“It’s a blessing and a curse. Anyways, give me like an hour and we can all meet up for lunch or something.”

“Yay! Let me know when you leave and we can find somewhere to meet in the middle!”

You hang up the phone and Megumi lunges off the floor and tackles you onto the bed. He rolls the two of you so he is laying on top of you and you are effectively pinned under his body weight. He lays his head on your chest and wraps his arms around your waist as you struggle to push him off of you. “I just wanna spend like ten more minutes in bed with my beautiful girlfriend.” He turns his face up to give you a pleading look and you sigh in defeat.

He grins triumphantly and rests his head back on your chest. You run your fingers through his dark hair to smooth it out as much as you can where it had been ruffled from sleep. After you feel satisfied with the strands you can reach you start tracing over the contours of his face, appreciating how angelic the light from the window makes him look.

Feeling your movements still, he cracks an eye open to see you staring at him. He narrows his eyes accusingly at you, “why are you staring? Weirdo.”

“Cause you’re pretty,” you hum contently and kiss his forehead. He buries his face into your shoulder and groans.

“You make me sound like such a girl.”

“Boys can be pretty,” you pull his face between your hands and kiss his face. “You’ve got pretty eyes, and pretty lashes, and a pretty mouth, even if there's a lot of sass coming out of it.” He rolls his eyes, moves to lay higher up on your body, and stuffs his face into the pillow next to your head. You laugh at the way the tips of his ears turn pink with embarrassment and decide to let up on your teasing.

After a lot of pouting and complaining from your boyfriend, you finally pull him out of bed and convince him to get dressed to go to lunch. You tuck a loose burgundy sweater into a pair of black high-waisted leggings, smirking at the way you catch Megumi staring at how the pants hug your curves. He layers a dark blue windbreaker over a grey hoodie and a pair of jeans. Both of you opted for sneakers since you figured you’d probably be walking around a lot.

He pulls you into a hug and makes his last attempt at talking you into staying home and watching a movie instead. You notice he gags slightly at the smell of your perfume before quickly trying to cover it with a cough. You make a mental note to buy a new one while out with Nobara before denying his request to ditch your friends. He rolls his eyes, gives you a firm peck on the lips, and leads you out the door of your home.

The ramen house Nobara and Yuji decided they wanted to try is in a large shopping district walking distance from your apartment, so you and Megumi decided to enjoy the nice weather after the storm. You barely register the sound of Yuji's voice before you are being spun around by your overexcited friend. “Be careful before you break her!” You can't help but laugh at how Nobara scolds him before he plants you firmly back on the ground but still holds you in a bruising hug.

“Yuji, I just talked to you last night!”

“Okay, but I still haven’t seen you in what feels like forever cause you’re always at school.” Yuji pushes his lip out in a pout before finally releasing you so you can hug Nobara too.

“Well, I’m sorry I have to go to stupid, normal person university cause I’m not cool enough to be a cursed energy user.” You reach out and pinch Yuji's arm causing him to flinch back away from you and pout harder.

“Trust me, I’d kill to be at a normal school.” Nobara pipes in and lightly pushes your arm jokingly. You laugh her off and turn to notice Megumi is tense and lost in thought. You tug at his sleeve to regain his attention and motion to continue your walk. He laces your fingers together and pulls you closer to him.

On your way to the ramen house, you and Nobara stop in a few shops to look around and you pick up a few things here and there. The boys mostly stayed outside in the sun and talked amongst themselves. After ducking inside one of the stores you quietly warn Nobara not to tease the boys too much today. “Nightmares again?”

“Yeah, it’s the first one in a few months but it was a bad one, just keep that between us though.”

“Of course, it’s good that he’s getting better.”

“Yeah, I’m trying to help as much as I can, but I don’t know if it's actually effective. I know they’ll never fully go away but it just hurts to see him in pain like that, you know?” Nobara nods and links your arms together as you move through the little shop.

“It’ll keep getting better, don’t let the bad nights get you down.” You smile at your friend before paying for your items and heading back outside.

When you and Nobara rejoin the boys outside, you find them complaining about being hungry and decide to actually go get your lunch. You’re all seated at a booth, you and Nobara are sitting next to each other and since Yuji insisted that he wanted to sit next to the window, he is across from you, leaving Megumi to sit across from Nobara. You smile at him apologetically but he shrugs it off and texts you from under the table to say that it doesn’t bother him.

It felt good to laugh and catch up with your friends until an old classmate of theirs showed up halfway through your meal. Megumi's eyes widen at the figure that slides into the booth next to Nobara. “Zenin? What are you doing here?” You eye her suspiciously but say nothing and continue eating your food.

“I told you, call me Mai. You make me sound the same as Maki,” she pouted at your boyfriend. You roll your eyes and Nobara huffs next to you. Mai turns to glare and notices Yuji trying to engage you in a conversation again. “Well, this is cute. Did the half-cursed monster and the normie finally get together?” You whip your head to her to ask what she's talking about, but she's speaking again before you can open your mouth.

“I mean it would make sense, you did like her first. Why did you never say anything?”

The table goes deadly quiet. Megumi is staring at Mai in horror, Yuji is shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Mai smirks at the tension she created and you can’t help but look back and forth between the two boys.

“Did you feel bad and let poor little Fushiguro have her?” She shifts her attention back to the man in front of her and continues. “Must be scary knowing he could probably take her back with a snap of his fingers, not that she’d last very long. I’d give it a week until Sukuna kills her.” Megumi lowers his eyes to the table but stays silent.

“Food for thought kids, I gotta go.” She winks at you and Nobara before making her exit. You try to reach for Megumi's hand across the table but he pulls away from you quickly.

“Megumi, she’s wrong,” you tell him gently.

“It’s fine, I’m fine.” He’s shaking his head and trying to brush you off. “I’m okay, it’s nothing.”

The air around the table is awkward for the rest of lunch, but you try to continue your small talk. Things take a turn for the worse when the waitress brings two separate checks. One for Nobara and Megumi, one for you and Yuji. Nobara flags her down to tell her that a mistake has been made with the check and can you split it differently. She apologizes and says she mistook your group for two couples. You all pay for your food, Megumi quickly snatching your individual check and paying for your lunch, before you start sliding out of the table.

When you get to the edge of the booth, Megumi is yanking you to your feet by your elbow. “I don’t feel good, I wanna go home.” He says shortly before turning to walk out of the restaurant. Yuji is avoiding eye contact and hanging his head in either shame or embarrassment. You can’t quite tell. You mumble a quick apology to Yuji and Nobara before following your boyfriend outside. He grabs your wrist tightly to lead you back to your apartment.

You’d seen him get mildly jealous, but never quite this bad. The walk was fast-paced, you were having a hard time keeping up with his tall frame. You were certain that the grip he had on your wrist was going to leave bruises. You tried to catch his attention a few times and pull your hand out of his. “‘Gumi please, you're hurting me.”

That sentence finally catches his attention, but only a little. He lets go of your arm and mutters a quiet “sorry” before shoving his hands into his pockets. The rest of your walk is doused in an uncomfortable silence before you finally get back to your apartment. Megumi pulls the keys to your front door out of his pocket before stepping aside to let you in first, you can almost feel his anger rolling off of him in waves. You slip off your shoes and place your purse and shopping bag on a countertop before you are roughly grabbed and pinned against the door.

Megumi squeezes your jaw firmly, his mouth crashing against yours brutally. You tug at his wrist with one hand, he loosens his grip, but never removes his hand from your face. His other hand is fixed on your waist as he continues using his body weight to keep you pressed against the door. Your brain feels fuzzy from his sudden attack and you struggle to get your head to catch up with your body. Out of pure instinct you tilt your face up towards his to deepen the kiss and just as you think you’ve gained some ground he’s pulling away.

A weak sound of protest comes from your throat and you open your eyes to see his own morphed into a dark midnight blue. You feel him tighten his grip on your face as he leans in just enough that you can feel his breath on your lips. Your focus is pulled away by his other hand slowly snaking its way from your waist into the waistband of your leggings. You feel your breath catch at the feeling of his fingertips making their way further down to your core. You hear him chuckle darkly.

“Look at you, I hadn’t even touched you and you’re already soaking. Could Yuji make you this wet from just kissing you?” You could barely hold yourself up, let alone form a word, all you could do was shake your head. Normally he would find that endearing, but he obviously wasn’t in the mood for silence tonight. He nipped your bottom lip almost painfully. “I need words pretty girl.”

“No, just you.” You were tugging at the front of his shirt, desperately trying to ground yourself.

He smirks dangerously and bit down on your bottom lip again, earning a sharp gasp from you. “I didn’t think so.”

You try to close the gap between your lips but he pulls back and shoves your face to the side so he has access to your throat. He latches on to the weak spot behind your ear and sucks like his life depends on it. He proceeds to cover your neck with dark bruising marks before pushing your sweater down your shoulder so he can continue to mark his territory.

“‘Gumi,” you try to reach him but he’s in his own headspace. You barely have time to brace yourself as he suddenly breaks himself away from you body and yanks you up over his shoulder. You land roughly, clinging to the back of his shirt to keep from falling, and it feels like the air has been knocked from your lungs.

He doesn't give you time to catch your breath before he’s striding into your bedroom and throwing you down onto the bed. Your body bounces at the impact and he’s climbing over you before your body can settle. He grabs your hands and pins them above your head and stares you straight in the eyes.

All that can be heard in the apartment was the whipping wind outside the window and the deep breaths emitting from both of your parted lips. You take advantage of the moment to fully take in his face. Your normally gentle and loving boyfriend was nowhere to be found. In his place was a man riddled with jealousy and intent on taking his frustration out on you.

The moment is broken when he drops one of his hands from your wrists to pull up at your sweater. You do your best in this position to arch your back up so he can pull it off. He momentarily lets go of your hands so he can fling your sweater onto the floor before his hands resume their post.

You close your eyes at the feeling of his lips kissing their way down your chest. He takes one of your nipples between his teeth and bites down lightly. Your body rises from the bed in an attempt to bring him closer to you. One of his hands comes down to shove your waist back down into the mattress and once he’s done assaulting one of your nipples he moves to the other. He leaves bruising marks everywhere his lips go and you feel as they make their way further down your waist. Everything feels heightened with your eyes squeezed closed.

“Megumi please,” you breathe out. He leans back up so his face is level with yours.

“Please what? Tell me what you want.” You feel the hand on your waist move down to your thigh. You can barely make an audible sound as he rubs his thumb roughly into the skin of your inner thigh. All you can manage is a weak whine and he scoffs at your feeble attempt at speaking. “Are you suddenly mute, use your fucking words.”

He smacks your thigh sharply trying to get you to focus on him and get out of your head. You let out a small whimper and he rubs his hand soothingly over your warm skin. “You can do it love, tell me what you want.”

How quickly he can switch between how sweet and how mean his words are has your head spinning. You blink a few times before your head clears. “I want to taste you.”

“That's my girl.” He practically purrs.

He releases the hand that was holding yours in place and moves backward to let you climb off the bed. The second you stand up he is tangling his fingers into your hair and shoving you to your knees in front of him. You don’t hesitate to reach up and quickly pull his jeans and boxers down to his knees. You run your hands up his thighs to grab his half-hard dick, giving it a few lazy strokes before taking the tip in your mouth. His hand tightens in your hair and he groans out in pleasure.

You slowly move your head and start taking him deeper into your mouth. Earning a string of small moans from him. “Fuck baby, you’re being such a good girl for me.”

The tip of his cock brushes the back of your throat causing you to gag and push at his thighs. He pulls you off of him to let you take a breath, admiring all the pretty bruises he left across your skin. It takes all his self-control to not cum right then as he works himself back into your mouth. “Just relax baby, I know you can take it.”

The sweet praise that was so familiar to your bedroom activities sends a rush of arousal through you and has you squeezing your thighs together to create the tiniest bit of friction. He continues pushing into your mouth until your nose is flush with his pelvis. Your whine of protest is muffled by him as he holds you against him, not letting you move your head back. Your eyes water at the sensation as you struggle to swallow around him.

“Awe, does my baby keep forgetting to breathe through her nose?” He pouts mockingly at you. You look up at him with tears rimming your eyes and he smirks again. “You just look so pretty like this princess.”

He moves the hand that was gripping your hair to run his thumb against your temple gently before drawing his hips back. You force yourself to relax as much as you can as he starts thrusting into your mouth. You ball your fists tightly, digging your nails into your palms to distract from the achy feeling in your jaw. You flush in embarrassment and the obscene amount of spit collecting at the corner of your lips as he keeps fucking into you like his own personal toy.

Tears are streaming down your face and he cums with a loud groan. You swallow and stick your tongue out to show him. He hummed contently and you leaned back against the bed. You lay your head back and try to catch your breath. Megumi strips the rest of his clothes off and tugs you to stand up.

“Did you think we were done, princess?” He crashes his mouth against yours again and nudges you back onto the bed. “I’m not done until my name is the only thing you can say for weeks.”

Megumi reaches down to thrust two fingers into you, causing you to cry out. His mouth latches onto your skin and starts leaving dark marks everywhere he can reach again. His hand is pumping into you at a brutal pace and you’re trying your best to bite back your moans. He looks up at your face and scoffs.

“No holding back those beautiful sounds baby.” He reaches his free hand up to squeeze the sides of your throat. “I want you to use that pretty mouth to tell me just how good I’m fucking you,” he growls. You nod frantically and he nips at your jaw. Your moans and whines grow increasingly louder and Megumi starts rutting his cock against your thigh for friction.

“Gumi, I’m close,”

“Hold it,” he growls. You look up at him in panic and he grinds the heel of his hand into your clit. “I want to see if you can be good and follow a simple order. If you don’t behave, I will leave you here with nothing.”

You press your face into his shoulder and let out a small whimper. Just when you thought his challenge was hard enough, he slips a third finger into you and purposely crooks them to hit your sweet spot over and over.

“Please baby, I’m sorry. I’ll be good, please just let me cum.” Tears threaten to spill again and he laughs darkly, but says nothing else as he keeps thrusting his fingers into you. He turned his face so his breath could tickle your ear.

“I think my princess just needed a reminder of who she fucking belongs to, isn’t that right?” You nodded frantically against his shoulder. “If you really wanted to get fucked like a whore this bad then you could have just asked me nicely princess.”

Both of your hands were gripping his biceps so hard you thought that you might leave bruises on him. Your climax was so close you could almost taste it, but Megumi's threat loomed in the back of your mind. Not wanting to anger him more you keep behaving and pushing back your orgasm to the point where it’s almost painful. Seeing you struggle to follow his orders underneath him ignited something feral inside your boyfriend, as if he wasn’t dancing on the edge of it already.

“Okay princess, you can cum now.” Your climax ripped through you violently, and you couldn’t help the broken cries it pulled from your mouth.

Before you could ride out your high he is flipping you onto your stomach and yanking your hips up. You scramble to push yourself up onto your hands before he is shoving your face into the blankets.

“No baby, I want you bent over nice and pretty for me. This way I can fuck you exactly how I like.” He pushes himself all the way into you with one fluid motion and sets a hard and fast pace. You are gasping out for him and reaching back to squeeze his wrist. Overstimulation is wracking through your body and you can see black dotting your vision.

You whimper as you feel your next orgasm approaching quickly, and Megumi can sense it too. “Are you gonna be a good girl and cum again?” You nodded your head, and he slapped your thigh, eliciting a cry from you. “I asked you a question, and I want you to use your words like a big girl.”

“I’m close, please let me come again baby.” He smiles and angles his hips to start hitting your sweet spot till you’re seeing stars. Your second climax is less intense than the first, but it still has you feeling completely exhausted. Your head is hazy and you can feel your legs beginning to tremble underneath you. If not for Megumi's firm grip on your hips, you’re sure they would have given out by now.

He reaches around and pulls you up so one hand is wrapped around your throat and the other is wrapped around your waist. His hips never falter their rough pace and your back is pressed to his chest. You can hear and feel him panting in your ear with every one of his movements. Your head is too hazy to focus on anything except him and you let your head loll back onto his shoulder. He turns his head to look at you and smirks. “Look at that, my poor baby got fucked out too hard. I know you have one more in you princess.”

You whine at the promise of another orgasm while he once again latches his mouth on to your neck and shoulders. He lets the fingers on your waist trail down to where you are connected and circles your clit several times. You jolt at the stimulation and weakly try to push his hand away. He smirks and decides to take his taunting a step further. “I wonder what sweet Yuji would think if he saw you like this? Fucked dumb on my cock.”

You barely process his words, but you don’t have the energy to respond. He nips at your jaw as he pushes you closer to the edge. You can tell he’s close with how his pace begins to stutter. With a particularly hard thrust and a pinch of your clit you are coming undone for the final time that night. He cums right after you and gently lays you back down on the bed.

You’re sniffling from overstimulation and pushing his hips away from yours until he pulls out of you completely. You’re finally able to find your words as you curl further into the blankets. “Please baby no more, it hurts.”

You can’t see the guilt that washes over his face as he leans forward to kiss your temple lovingly. “It’s okay pretty girl, you did so well for me.”

He leaves you in bed to move to the bathroom and you think you can vaguely hear water running. After a few minutes he comes back and scoops you into his arms and carries you to the bathroom. He slowly eases you into the warm water of the bathtub before he's running back out.

You lean your head against the wall and let tears continue to stream down your face. A small portion of it is from the dull throb coming from your lower body, but mostly it’s from sadness clawing at your heart. You hate pushing him on his emotions and prying at things he doesn’t want to talk about, however something seemed to really push him over the edge tonight.

He quietly comes back into the bathroom and sets the book you're currently reading on the bench next to the tub, along with a hot tea in one of your favorite mugs. He had pulled on a pair of sweatpants, and was turning to leave again. You reach out and gently wrap your fingers around his wrist. “I know that I’ve asked you to share so much in the last 24 hours, but can we please talk about what happened tonight?”

A look of confusion crosses his face and you sink further into the water. “I just want us to be okay, and I can’t shake the feeling that you’re mad at me.” Your voice begins to falter and he curses at himself. He pulls his sweatpants off and slides into the water behind you and rubs your shoulders.

“I’m not mad at you baby, Mai just hit a deep seated insecurity, and the thing with the waitress just kinda pushed me past my limit. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you like that, I’m sorry.”

You turn to lean your head on his shoulder and let your fingertips trace the water droplets that gathered on his chest. “Why would you listen to anything Mai says? She loves to piss you and Maki off.”

He tucks his chin on top of your head and hugs your shoulders. “Because she wasn’t wrong about Yuji. He liked you first, I always felt like a charity case. And every time you guys hang out, it nags at me at how much better of a boyfriend he would be for you.”

You roll your eyes and flick his nose. “I knew that he liked me, he isn’t exactly the king of subtlety. But you need to remember, Yuji is your best friend, he’d never hurt you like that.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

You shift to cup his face in your hands. “If I liked Yuji, I wouldn’t have dated you. You’re the one I wanted to be with, not him. I love you.”

He leans his face into your hand and lets you pull him in for a kiss. “I love you too princess.”

#fushiguro megumi #jujutsu kaisen #megumi x reader #jjk smut #megumi fic #megumi smut #megumi x y/n #anime #jujutsu kaisen smut #fanfic

355 notes · View notes

javier-pena · 3 years

Text

triumvirate

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader x Katie

Word Count: 13.7k (I know, I know ...)

Rating: Explicit (and I mean explicit, this is the most explicit thing I’ve ever written)

Summary: You and Javi have been talking about inviting someone into your bed, just to see what it would be like. But you had no idea he already has someone in mind.

Notes: This started as a brief conversation I had with Dani @javierpcna while making a gifset actually, and it turned into this huge fic involving a character that doesn’t even speak a single line of dialogue (yes, this is Katie, the woman from the elevator in s3e1, the one who looks at Javi ... respectfully). I actually don’t remember the last time I had this much fun writing anything, so I guess I will be writing more Javi fics in future ... also, as always, huge thanks to Dani for putting up with my crazy ideas for a week, for encouraging me, for sacrificing a Sunday evening to read this, and for kindling the flames that brought this on in the first place! Also I believe Javi doesn’t share but he can be a bit ooc - as a treat ...

***

Javi doesn’t like to talk about his work. He doesn’t like to “bring it home” with him, even though the word “home” is all relative to him. He keeps quiet about it when you’re at his flat, that’s sacred ground to him, but your flat is fine. So when he’s at your place, he sometimes talks about his colleagues, the paperwork he needs to finish, how his boss got on his nerves today. You know there is much he could tell you, a lot he doesn’t share on purpose, and some things he never mentions because he’s not proud of them.

At first, you are worried because he doesn’t let you in. You aren’t used to having someone in your life who keeps so much hidden from you, especially someone you slowly, over time, start to share everything with, from a cup of coffee over breakfast, over a cigarette during a hasty lunch break, to sighs and moans, joined hands and heartbeats under the cover of the night. Especially someone you slowly but surely find yourself falling in love with, someone you want to share your life with, but also someone who doesn’t seem to feel the same way, who keeps a part of himself hidden behind tailored suits and starched shirts. It makes you nervous and wary when he never answers your questions, it hurts you when he changes the subject, sometimes quite cruelly, but over time you begin to see this arrangement as something enjoyable.

In all your previous relationships, you’d mostly talked about work, discussed your day, asked boring questions to get boring answers from your partner. Maybe that is the reason why they never lasted – you were so preoccupied with involving each other in your professional lives that you never focused on the personal aspect of your relationships. But with Javi you’re forced to talk about something else, about anything else, books, movies, music, travels, that little dog you saw on the street today, how your mother is doing, the sock that has gotten lost in the dryer. And you love this about him, love how you’d gotten to know an entirely different version of him than most people know. Granted, he doesn’t watch a lot of movies and he doesn’t listen to a lot of music, he hardly ever has time to read, but he’s seen the world, he tells you stories you don’t bore of hearing repeatedly, while your fingers lay entwined on his broad chest, the warmth of his skin seeping into your body, his breath tickling your hand, while he talks, and you listen. Sometimes, on the rare occasion he cooks for you, he tells you about his childhood, about how his mother taught him to kill a chicken (“If you can eat it, you can kill it”), about how is father gave him his first beer to drink when he was eight (“It’ll make a man out of you”), about how his grandmother showed him which spices to use for what dish (“Never mix garlic and lemon juice, it’ll turn the garlic green”). It’s moments like these where you feel he trusts you. You don’t need him to give you a detailed rundown of his day, to tell you how badly his morning coffee tasted, how boring his meeting was, how much his colleagues annoyed him. Getting to know this personal side of him, the one you know he doesn’t usually share, that’s enough for you.

You trust him, and he trusts you.

His withdrawnness when it comes to his work is the reason you’re completely caught by surprise when you’re over at his place one cloudy Saturday afternoon for a late lunch and he mentions work. You’re the one cooking this time, a stew your grandmother taught you to make, and while you wait for it to finish simmering, you sit at his small kitchen table, lost in idle conversation. And no matter how idle those conversations get, talking to Javi is never boring, and that is one of the things you love about him. But when he does mention work – and nothing prompts it, no probing questions on your part about a torn shirt you find lying discarded on his couch, no need to share something with you out of weariness and frustration on his part – you are immediately snapping to attention. It’s infuriating how he does it, casually, while he fills a glass with tap water for you.

“There’s this girl at work,” he says, and your ears prick up at the word work, immediately on guard. He turns off the water but doesn’t turn to look at you when he continues. “I think … I think you would … like her.”

It’s so uncharacteristic of him to be this careful, almost flustered – is that a flush you see creeping up his neck? He’s usually very assured, he usually has no trouble making eye contact, he usually says what he needs to say with as little or as many words as he sees fit. So when he stammers and blushes like this, you can’t help but smile. You can guess, of course, what this is about. You’ve mentioned a few times that you miss your friends back home, that you sometimes feel lonely and wish you had more people to talk to. And he remembered, he listened to you and he remembered, which makes a warmth spread from your chest to your limbs, and the corners of your eyes crinkle with a soft smile.

“Is that so?” you ask teasingly.

He turns around and takes the two steps to close the distance between the sink and the table. You take the glass from him as soon as he stands in front of you.

“She’s … nice,” he tries to elaborate. He sits down next to you and takes your hand into his, his skin warm to the touch. His thumb brushes over your knuckles as he watches moisture gather on your glass. It is a hot day, and the windows of his small kitchen are open, allowing for the sounds of the city to drift in, to swirl around the two of you, to give you some background noise to the comfortable silence that sometimes settles between you. “She’s funny,” he continues finally. “Ambitious, too. Junior agent. You have a lot in common.”

That sounds more like the Javi you know; observant, good at reading people, good at making connections. He’s still not looking at you though; it feels like he’s asking you something big, something life-changing, not like he’s trying to help you find a friend.

“Yeah, she sounds nice,” you agree. You raise the glass with your free hand and take a sip of water. “I’d like to meet her.” And even if you shouldn’t get along, there is no harm done. But you feel like you will because Javi is very good at reading people and if he says that this woman is someone you would like to spend time with, you know you will.

“You would?” His head snaps up in surprise, and it makes you smile again. As if you could ever refuse him! And if he’d ask you to move to Antarctica with him, you wouldn’t hesitate. But you can understand his tentativeness because you haven’t technically told him that. Yes, Javi is easy to talk to, but not when it comes to feelings. Those conversations are reserved for the dead hours of the night, for when it feels like you two are the only people in the world, for when you both know you can open up to each other, be at your most vulnerable state without the other person taking advantage of it, of crushing it like a fallen leaf. And you haven’t had many of those conversations yet.

Still, your heart picks up speed at the thought of how he’s looking out for you, of how he met a woman at work and thought to himself that you maybe would like to be her friend, how he was nervous to bring it up because he thought he might have misread your needs. But if there is one thing Javi is brilliant at, the one thing no one else in your life has ever been able to do, it is reading your needs, interpreting them correctly, and then acting accordingly to them, doing everything he can to care for you and look out for you, sometimes even at the expense of his own needs. You wouldn’t be able to tell that about him by looking at him, by hearing how his acquaintances talk about him, but there is a soft side to this man, one you feel very protective of.

You nod with enthusiasm. “Sure, why not? If she’s as great as you say, then I don’t see why we wouldn’t be getting along.” You are very curious to meet this woman. He’s hardly given you any information about her, but still, she sparks your interest.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips. “Good.” He also nods, but when he does it, there is an air of determination to it. It feels like you’ve just agreed to some big plan you don’t fully understand, not to having lunch with one of his colleagues. “Listen, there’s this work thing next Friday.” His voice gets lower with each word, so he pauses to clear his throat. “I think you should come along, meet everyone … officially. She’s also gonna be there, it’s a good opportunity …”

Now you can’t help but giggle. He squeezes your hand, and you squeeze back. “You’re very eager to introduce me to her, aren’t you?” you tease, but there is no malice in your words. You’re actually flattered he’s talking about introducing you to his colleagues, about bridging that divide between private and professional.

Your fondness for him gets lost in translation, and your words fall on different ears than they are intended for. “I’ve been telling everyone at work a lot about you –”

You cut him off with a firm kiss that elicits a low growl from his chest. “Javi, I’m already convinced, okay? No need to lie to me,” you whisper against his lips, your hand brushing against his rough cheek. He has to understand that he doesn’t need to pretend with you, that he can be his true self around you.

He lifts your entwined hands from the tabletop and presses a soft kiss against your knuckles. “I’m not lying.” You want to believe him, but there is a glint in his eyes when he looks up from your hand and locks his gaze to yours. It would be wise to be annoyed with him or tease him in turn, but you can’t help yourself. Every time those brown eyes land on you, you feel a pull towards him you cannot quite explain but also cannot ignore. You have to give in.

Still, you roll your eyes in a valiant attempt to keep up a semblance of dignity before pushing yourself off your chair and onto his lap. Your fingers find the hair at the nape of his neck and you grip it and hold onto it as you carefully roll your hips under the pretense of finding a comfortable position. Both his hands immediately land on your sides and squeeze.

“Then let me give you something to tell them about,” you whisper, your lips right next to his ear, and nothing beats the feeling of pride rushing through you as he pushes his hips up, chasing a tiny bit of friction. You’re sure it’s basic instinct, something he can’t quite control, and you love nothing more than making him let go.

***

You thought you would be meeting Javi’s colleagues at a bar, but then you find yourself in front of a nice restaurant. It’s the only place in town that sells good burgers, or at least that’s what the man at your side tells you. You were planning on getting pleasantly drunk, not making conversation while trying to coordinate a knife and fork, but you think you’ll manage as long as you stick to your companion.

But something about Javi feels off tonight. He nervously fixed his tie in your hallway mirror when he picked you up (usually he doesn’t care about the state of his tie’s knot), he didn’t talk to you much during the drive to the restaurant (usually he points out little details he notices about the city or takes this opportunity to compliment you), and now he keeps fiddling with the cuff of your blouse as he leads you up the stairs to the restaurant’s entrance.

You’re also nervous, mostly because you haven’t met any of the people you’re about to be introduced to, and you don’t know if you’ll have something in common with them or if you’ll spend your evening sitting alone in some dark corner nursing one fancy cocktail after the other. If there’s one thing you’re not good at, it’s going into a situation unprepared, and Javi did nothing to help you build up some expectations about what to expect from tonight. To be fair, you didn’t ask. You didn’t ask about the colleagues you’re about to meet, you didn’t ask where you were going to meet them, and you didn’t ask about the woman he is planning on introducing to you. The reason for your silence? You didn’t want to annoy him, show him just how insecure you are.

But you feel oh so apprehensive about this evening. Your positions are reversed now – suddenly it is you who thinks it might not be such a good idea to mix personal and private. You have no answer as to why you feel like this. It is just a dull sensation in the pit of your stomach that makes your hands feel cold even though it’s a hot, humid evening. It makes you want to turn to the man at your side and ask him to go home. But you won’t. Because despite the dread you’re feeling you’re kind of excited at the prospect of meeting this new colleague he mentioned to you. There is an air of mystery around her that intrigues you because he hasn’t talked about her since that afternoon almost a week ago. And you appreciate the gesture of him biting the bullet and mixing the two sides of the coin that is Javier Peña so you can find a friend.

Once you make it inside, Javi leads you to a group of people who are already standing together in a cluster. The introductions are over way too fast, and you don’t remember a single name. Most of the men you meet look the same to you – they’re wearing suits in different shades of blue and grey and brown, broad, colorful ties, and big smiles. You’re smiling too as you shake their hands, while Javi introduces you to them as his girlfriend, and you know he would because he told you he would, but it still makes you feel warm and tingly, and it cements your right to be here by his side. You’re pretty sure you keep smiling at him like a lovesick teenager, but you don’t care. He’s smiling too, keeping close to you, a hand at the small of your back or on your elbow, his chest always right behind you for you to fall back into should you seek comfort.

Sometimes, you feel him stiffen behind you when a few of his colleagues crack jokes about how you were able to tie down the elusive Javier Peña. He rolls his eyes at their remarks, but you laugh along. You know about his reputation, you know about his past relations with other women, but you don’t mind. Why should you? You also don’t mind his colleagues’ reactions – all you care about is that this feels right at the moment and you wouldn’t change it for anything. But you do understand a bit better why Javi was wary of you meeting his colleagues.

To your relief, there is enough to drink, and soon you find yourself standing at Javi’s side, a bottle of beer in your hand, while you listen to him talk to a man about ten years his senior. You don’t understand much of what they are saying – they’re using so many abbreviations it sounds like code – but Javi stands with his hip cocked to one side so he’s leaning close to you, and you enjoy feeling the ghostly shadow of him by your side. Since he doesn’t like to talk about his job, you enjoy seeing this relatively unknown aspect of him, this other man who’s like a stranger to you, who talks with so much confidence and poise that you cannot help but listen to his every word. And you understand why he seems to be so admired among his colleagues, why they were eager to shake his hand when you arrived, why they seek out his company, why they wave at him from the other side of the room. He’s good at what he does, competent, capable, he knows how to be in charge of a situation without obtruding, and you feel such a strong pull towards this side of him you have to take a big swig from your beer bottle to hide how much this is affecting you. The last thing you need is him teasing you about it.

But before your behavior exposes your desires, he suddenly moves away, and you’re pulled after him, not so much in motion but in attention. He’s spotted someone, a woman, and he’s leaning down to press a light kiss to her right cheek before turning to you.

“This is Katie,” he introduces her, and there’s something in the way he says those three words that makes you pause. You smile at her as you shake her hand, but then your gaze flickers back to Javi who suddenly looks at you like he did in his kitchen six days ago, unsure yet with an edge of something more, something you can’t fully grasp, and then you know.

This is the woman. This is this girl at work that he thinks you’re going to like.

You turn your attention back to her to look at her, to see what he’s seeing. She’s shorter than both you, with long, brown hair that she wears in open waves. You think she has a winning smile and kind eyes, and you immediately want to get to know her better. She compliments your blouse, she makes a joke about something Javi did at work the other day, she’s even holding a bottle of your favorite beer. She seems to be all Javi promised her to be.

Then why is he looking at you so nervously, like a small boy bringing home a teacher’s note?

Javi introduces you as his girlfriend, and Katie doesn’t miss a beat before she says, “Oh, he’s told me a lot about you,” with one of the biggest smiles you’ve ever seen.

“He has?” you ask. You’re not fishing for compliments. You’re genuinely surprised, since you hadn’t expected him to be sharing his private life with his colleagues, much like he doesn’t share his professional one with you. The thought of him talking about you with this woman who is standing in front of you, makes you smile. You decide to tease him about it. “You two spend a lot of time together then?”

Katie’s smile flickers, if only for a short second. “No, it’s not –,” she starts, but Javi interrupts her before she can finish.

“Katie likes fishing,” he says.

It catches you completely off-guard, as does the look on his face. He raises a hand and lets his fingers run over his lips, something he always does when he’s nervous, while he waits for your answer.

“I do,” Katie says with an enthusiastic nod.

You have no idea what’s going on, but you decide to play along. “I go fishing with my dad whenever I’m in the States,” you tell them.

“Oh, that’s nice,” Katie exclaims, and it should, by all means, sound like something she’s only saying to be polite, but it doesn’t. Instead, it sounds like she means it. “Where are you from?”

“North Carolina,” you answer. It’s something you don’t talk about often because it’s not interesting. If you were from California or New York, people would follow up this revelation with questions and stories of their own. But North Carolina? You always feel a bit embarrassed about mentioning it.

But Katie’s reply is something you haven’t heard before. “You don’t sound like you’re from North Carolina.”

Maybe you should be offended – you don’t know what she’s implying with this – but for some reason it just makes you laugh. “Thanks,” you say.

“No, oh my God,” she backtracks immediately, “I didn’t mean to offend you …”

“You didn’t,” you assure her with a dismissive wave of your hand. You glance at Javi then, and he’s following your conversation like a cop watching his partner interrogate a suspect, like he’s afraid of missing just one syllable of what you are saying. His whole body is rigid, his hands are balled into fists at his side, and his face is a mask of pure concentration. “So,” you start again, turning back to Katie, “what has he been telling you about me?”

Several tables have been put together to stand along three walls of one of the biggest rooms in the restaurant. As you sit down and skim the menu, Katie answers your question. Javi speaks of you differently than most of their colleagues speak about their wives or girlfriends. When he talks about you, it doesn’t feel like he would rather do anything else than spend time with you. Quite the opposite, in fact. It makes your face grow hot. You try to distract yourself by ordering your meal, by changing the subject (“So, tell me, Katie, where are you from?”), by watching Javi talk to a middle-aged woman next to him, by watching Javi make her smile.

Katie tells you everything you want to know, answers all your questions in great detail, but always turns the attention back to you. When you ask her about her favorite music, she asks you about yours. When you ask her about her family, she asks you about yours. When you ask her what made her take a job in Colombia, she asks you about how you came to be here. It is a dialogue, not a monologue. She tells you about her brothers back home, about how one is a bank manager while the other went into environmentalism. She tells you she’s always wanted to go to Europe, and she hopes her next DEA assignment will finally get her there. She also tells you about her work for the DEA, about how she spends most of her days in the office, but also about how Javi took her along on a raid recently.

And you realize Javi was right. You do like her. She’s pleasant company, she’s educated but not in that stuck-up way most of Javi’s colleagues are. When you admit that you have no idea who the current Attorney General is, she doesn’t look at you like you just said you enjoy drowning kittens. She just brushes it off and changes the subject. When you tell her about a book you’ve been reading, she takes a small notepad from her bag and jots down the title and author, telling you she’ll check it out. And you truly believe she will.

When you’ve finished most of the food on your plate, she excuses herself to go to the bathroom. You check your watch, surprised that it’s already this late. Your gaze wanders over to where Javi is now talking to two young men who hang on his every word. But he’s glancing at you, a question on his face. You mouth, “What?” but he just shrugs. If he’s still worried you won’t like Katie, he has no reason to. You’re having a very pleasant evening.

When Katie gets back, Javi glances between the two of you, running his finger over his lips again. You just smile at him and, with ease, pick up the conversation with Katie once more. Maybe you should talk to someone else for a change, but Katie doesn’t seem to be bored by your company either, so you have no desire to change anything about your current situation.

Towards the end of the night, you too find yourself in the bathroom. You’re tired, but pleasantly sated, yawning while you wash your hands. You can’t wait to curl up next to Javi tonight and tell him about how much you loved talking to Katie. But you’re also not quite ready for this night to be over yet.

When you step out of the bathroom, Javi is there, waiting for you in the cramped space of the dimly lit hallway. You jump, caught off-guard, but when he shoots you an awkward glance, you can’t help but giggle.

“Hey, can I talk to you?” he asks. He’s curling the fingers of his right hand into a tight fist and releases them again, over and over. It’s another one of his nervous ticks, one he does when he’s trying to relieve tension.

“Sure, what’s up?” you reply, trying to sound casual.

Javi looks nervous, so maybe you’ve fucked up. Maybe you did something or said something, and one of his colleagues saw or heard and complained to Javi about you. You swallow hard, trying to keep the smile on your face.

“Are you having fun?” he asks next.

“Yes, of course.”

“And the food?”

“Am I enjoying the food?” you try to clarify. “Sure.”

“And Katie? You like her?”

This makes you laugh. “Yes, I like her. What’s this about, Javi?”

He doesn’t reply, just shoots you a look, pregnant with meaning.

“What?” you ask, and finally stop smiling. “Do you want me to say I don’t like her?”

“No, no,” he says, too quickly. “I’m just –”

You interrupt him. “I know you’re nervous about me liking her, but you don’t have to be. She’s really nice.” He still doesn’t look convinced. “I’m gonna ask her if she wants to meet up for coffee.”

“There’s something …,” he starts before clearing his throat. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

“Do you want to get coffee with me?” you tease him.

“It’s about Katie,” he answers.

“Sure.”

He takes a deep breath and then breaks eye contact with you, focusing his attention on the wall behind you. “I would like to ask her to join us …,” he says very slowly, making sure you catch every word, “… in bed … tonight.”

Still, you’re not sure you’ve understood him correctly. “What?”

“Just if you want to,” he clarifies.

That doesn’t really answer your question, or any of the other, and there are a lot, but you don’t know where to begin. “Katie?” you say, trying to encompass everything you’re feeling with this single question.

You look past Javi to where she’s sitting, watching the people around her with interest. And then something drops – you’re not sure you’d call it a penny because it feels smaller than that, but you suddenly remember having talked about inviting someone into your bed to see what it would be like. The conversation happened a few weeks ago, after Javi had fucked you for what felt like hours. You had lost count of the number of orgasms you’ve had, but still he didn’t seem to be satisfied. You hadn’t thought much of it then. All you remember is agreeing to give it a try; your fucked-out brain would have agreed to anything. But you had no idea Javi already had someone in mind, you had no idea he’d brought it up thinking of Katie. And suddenly the tone he had used to talk about her in his kitchen a week ago sounds a lot different to you.

Javi’s silent, staring at you with his big, brown eyes, patiently waiting for an answer, while you’re trying to wrap your head around this proposition.

And your mind is racing. You did say yes to the idea of it when he asked you about it, but he just sprung this on you, and it’s so much more than an idea now, it’s a plan, one he’s fully prepared to set in motion. He’s talking about tonight, he’s talking about leaving here and taking her home with you and doing this … tonight. You haven’t been given a chance to prepare for this, you don’t know how you feel about it, how you’re supposed to feel, so you decide to try something.

“Would you like that?” you ask him.

He nods.

“Why her?” you want to know.

“I think she’s nice, pretty, …,” he answers with a non-committal shrug.

“I thought you wanted her to be my friend,” you remind him.

“Of course, I want that,” he’s quick to assure you. “I want you two to get along.”

You reach up to grab his tie then. “Javier, are you sure about this?” you ask with emphasis.

His eyes open wide at this. “Yes.”

You feel a familiar tingling between your legs at hearing his breath hitch. Before you let this go too far, you look over at Katie again and try to imagine her in bed between the two of you, but you can’t. You have no idea how you would even start thinking about this, so you focus on something else, something you’re familiar with, something steady: Javi.

“All right,” you agree. “But there’s some rules I want us to follow.”

“Is that a yes?” he asks and it sounds so incredulous you almost smile.

“Yes, just –”

But he crowds you against the wall, pushes you back against the bricks before you can finish the sentence.

“What –,” you start.

Then he kisses you in a way that’s meant for the privacy of your bedroom, not a public restaurant. You kiss him back tentatively because you don’t want to encourage him too much. He comes even closer, and you feel something brush against your leg.

A smirk spreads across your face. “Why didn’t you say something?” you ask between kisses.

“I am saying something,” he points out.

“Yeah, but sooner.”

He shrugs again, then goes in for another kiss. You hold him back.

“Javi, stop,” you say in a firm voice. “Just listen to me for a minute, okay?”

He nods.

“You have to ask her,” you insist. “I’m not doing it, all right?”

He nods.

“And I don’t …,” you lower your voice, “want you inside of her. Is that clear?”

He nods.

“I’ll be in charge,” you go on. “I’ll decide what we’re doing.”

The “fine” he gives you as an answer is accompanied by a deep rumbling in his chest.

“And she’s not staying over. I don’t care how late it gets, she’s leaving afterwards.” You feel like you need to set these boundaries if you want this to work.

“Can I take her home?” he asks.

“Yes,” you answer.

He licks his lips. “Yeah, okay.”

***

You’re in the car. Javi is driving, you’re next to him, watching the lights of the city drift by. Your heartbeat is louder than the sound of the engine, you expect Katie to remark on it any second now, to ask if everything’s okay. But she doesn’t. She’s talking about a book she’s reading, one you’ve also read (and loved) but you can’t bring yourself to hold a conversation. Katie doesn’t pick up on the shift in atmosphere, and if she does, she doesn’t comment on it. But you feel like there’s a deadly snake resting between your feet, one that will bite if you make a single wrong move.

There is a difference between talking about inviting Katie home with you in a room full of people where it’s just a theoretical concept and actually doing it.

Javi agreed to be the one to ask her. But he’s kept quiet so far. All he did was offer Katie a ride home, which she accepted with a big smile on her face. You glance over at Javi as he’s driving, his face alternating between being aflame in golden lighting and hidden in complete darkness. You can see the tension in his facial expression by the way he furrows his brow, but when he glances over at you there is something in his gaze – reassurance, yes, but also an edge of something you can’t quite put your finger on. You tell yourself his eyes are only this dark because your environment is. And suddenly you don’t feel like you’re in danger anymore; suddenly you want to exploit this situation, exploit the power it gives you over him.

You turn around to look at Katie, who’s sitting in the seat behind Javi. She just ended a long explanation about a character’s motivation by saying, “… you know,” and you nod to signal you’ve been listening, even though you haven’t.

If Javi doesn’t want to bring it up, you have to. Because the more you think about it, the more you want to do this, and you don’t want to rely on a man who can’t make the first move.

“Katie, I was wondering …,” you start, and immediately Javi’s right hand leaves the wheel, and his fingers dig into your thigh. You inhale sharply at the sensation but continue, “… are you seeing anyone?” Javi loosens his hold on you but doesn’t let go completely.

Katie shakes her head, then bites her lip bottom lip. “You know,” she says then lowers her voice, “I actually had my eyes on …,” she nods at Javi, “but please don’t think –”

You interrupt her. “No, please, Katie, it’s fine.” You smile at the man next to you, who shakes his head ever so slightly. “I completely understand.”

“Yeah,” Katie sighs and shakes her head so her hair tumbles down over one shoulder. “There are actually a few broken hearts at the office.”

That makes you laugh, if only because Javi looks utterly miserable. “I think he’s secretly enjoying that,” you whisper in a conspiratorial tone of voice.

Javi makes a sound of warning, one that tells you to shut up.

“Javi, I’m kidding,” you say with a light laugh. It’s only half the truth. You know him. You know he enjoys the attention.

Katie, too, starts to apologize, but you interrupt her again.

“Please, you have nothing to apologize for, he can take it.” You wonder if you should press your luck, if you should rile him up a bit more, and you decide it’s the right thing to do. “Don’t tell me you don’t enjoy the attention, Javi. Broken hearts … women pining for you …”

Javi makes another sound of warning. “It’s not like that,” he says through gritted teeth.

“What’s it like then?” you challenge.

Katie interrupts your stand-off before Javi can reply. “You guys, this is me, actually,” she says, pointing at the dark shape of an apartment building at the end of the block.

You turn around to face her again. “Katie, would you like to come up for a cup of coffee? Javi lives just down the street.”

“You sure?” Katie looks at Javi when she asks.

The knuckles on Javi’s hands are white from clutching the steering wheel.

“Of course,” you say, nodding eagerly.

“Yeah, all right,” Katie agrees.

You’re all quiet until you reach Javi’s apartment building. He gets out to open the garage door, then drives the car inside. You can’t help but notice that he still hasn’t asked, and you feel yourself getting nervous and antsy. If he doesn’t do it soon, you’ll definitely be the one to bring it up.

As soon as the car is parked, Katie gets out and shuts the door behind her with a dull bang.

Javi turns in his seat so he’s facing you. “What was that?” he asks.

“Ask her,” you tell him. “Now. Or I’m gonna do it.”

“What?” he snaps.

“I was trying to give you an opening,” you explain, as calmly as possible. Why does this have to be so complicated? “Like a scene partner, you know? Set up everything, so you can ask her.”

“Well, you weren’t doing a good job.”

“Gee, thanks,” you say, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“I’m gonna do it,” Javi tells you, his voice much softer now, “just give me time.”

“How much longer do you need?” you want to know. “She almost had us drop her off at her flat.”

“I’m doing it,” Javi sighs, “just … go away.”

All the tension in you leaves your body in one big wave and you smile softly at him. “Javi, are you nervous?”

He shoots you a stern look.

You raise your hands defensively. “All right, I’m going.”

You both get out of the car, and while you walk towards the exit to the stairwell, your steps echoing through the underground parking lot, you hear Javi say, “Katie, do you have a minute?”

You stop once you reach the door, lingering in the shadows, your eyes on Javi and Katie. You watch them talk, but you cannot hear what they’re saying; they’re too far away and standing too closely together for the sound to carry all the way to you. All you can tell is that he’s explaining something to her, and when he grows quiet, he cocks his hip, arms akimbo. Then he nods at you.

You have to admit you’re more nervous than you want Javi to know. So much could go wrong. What if she starts shouting at you? What if she storms off? She’s still Javi’s colleague, he would still have to work with her. What were you thinking? Why did you agree to this? Why didn’t you ask a complete stranger? It would certainly have made things a lot less awkward.

Katie is also looking at you, just for a moment, but it’s enough time for her to take you in, from head to toe, and then she looks back at Javi. She says something, something you can’t hear, and he nods. Then she nods, too.

***

You’re on Javi’s couch, Katie is sitting next to you, another bottle of beer in her hand, while Javi has made himself comfortable in an old leather armchair. You’ve been sipping on a glass of water for the past 15 minutes while you’ve been listening to them talk about work. Neither of you has mentioned anything about the proposition, and you have no idea how to bring it up again. Yes, you want to be in charge, but you had hoped Javi would do more than just ask. You had hoped he would initiate something … anything.

But instead, they’re both relaxed and at ease, talking about some new regulations that have been introduced recently, while you try to find a way into the conversation, while you try to find something more elegant than, “Well, anyway, do you guys wanna take this to the bedroom?”

Luckily, there’s only so much time you can spend discussing regulations on car safety, and soon a tense silence settles over the room, settles between you, waiting to be cut, to be torn apart, and you know that this is your chance.

“So,” you start, and immediately both Javi and Katie turn their heads to look at you. You take a sip from your water before continuing. “Katie, there’s some things –”

She interrupts you immediately. “I know, Javi told me. I’m fine with it.”

You take a deep breath. “Yes, I just want us to go over it one more time, to make sure we’re all on the same page.”

God, why do you sound so awkward? This isn’t supposed to be a business negotiation and yet it feels like one. You don’t want to alienate Katie by insisting on those rules, but you need something to hold on to once you get started.

“I’m gonna be in charge,” you say quickly. “I hope Javi mentioned that.”

“He did,” Katie confirms with a nod.

“And I want you to leave once this is over.” It sounds mean, but it’s too late to phrase it nicer now.

“Yeah, sure,” Katie says, her expression neutral. “No problem.”

“I’m open to trying anything,” you go on. “But the minute someone feels uncomfortable with something, we stop. All right?” You look at both of them for confirmation. They both nod. “I need a verbal confirmation, please.”

“Yes,” Javi says, “we stop.”

“Of course,” Katie agrees.

“And there’s one more thing,” you say, trying to work up the courage to address it. You know it’s silly to be nervous about it, especially since you all just agreed to be open with one another, and since Javi already knows about it, but you still feel apprehension at the thought of bringing it up.

“Yeah, I know,” Katie says before you can continue. “No penetration.”

She says it so matter-of-factly, in the same tone of voice she used to talk about the new regulations that suddenly you feel like there won’t be any problems at all.

“I’m fine with fingers,” you say quickly, “just not …”

“Yes, and I’m completely fine with that,” Katie assures you.

You have no idea how she does it, how she can sit there and talk about this without flinching. Maybe you’re the problem; maybe you need to relax more. You enjoyed your evening talking to Katie, you enjoyed getting to know here, so there is nothing to indicate you’re not going to enjoy this. Katie is certainly set on enjoying herself, judging by the way her eyes roam over Javi, practically undressing him with her gaze.

And suddenly, you don’t feel shy at all. You feel brave and bold, and entirely not yourself as you lean closer to Katie and, before you can change your mind, capture her bottom lip between your lips. Katie makes a surprised sound, but then her hand is at the nape of your neck as she pulls you close. You can taste the beer lingering on her lips as you pry them open with your tongue, and you feel her gasp softly against your skin, and you just know that this won’t be a problem at all. You feel bolder with each passing second, not breaking the kiss when you rest your hand against her thigh, and she’s not breaking the kiss when you move it higher up to cup one of her breasts. All that catches your attention is a sharp intake of breath somewhere behind you. Katie hears it, too, and it makes her break the kiss.

“So, where’s the bedroom?” she asks, putting down her beer.

***

Javi’s bedroom is dark, except for the occasional flicker of light from a passing car that illuminates the walls and the bed for a few short moments. Neither of you switches on the light as you enter. It is a quiet procession, slightly awkward, as if you all don’t quite know how to approach this. You still feel apprehensive, but this feeling is slowly being replaced by giddy excitement, by adrenaline and arousal mixing together to form a dangerous, explosive cocktail you long to control but you also want to see ignited. You try to breathe in deeply, slowly, but your throat feels tight as your heart beats loudly against your ribcage.

You want this, you have to remind yourself, and it’s not the act itself you’re thinking about, but what you discussed just a few minutes ago. You wanted to be in charge, you tell yourself as both Javi and Katie look at you, their faces hidden behind thick shadows.

Katie looks as nervous as you feel. You’re all new to this, but she’s not as used to hiding her emotions behind a solid mask as Javi is. She glances at you, then back at him, waiting for you to say something. Or for him to do something. You were so brave and determined in the other room, as if you knew exactly what you were doing. You were another person. But now this feels solid and real, not something you just talk about with Javi to see the heat in his gaze. They actually expect you to do something, to guide them, and you’re not sure you can do it.

Javi, ever observant, ever determined to look out for you, senses your insecurity. Of course he does, how could he not? He is focused on you, it feels like you’re the only person here who matters to him, like this is about you and no one else. He takes a step forward until he’s a hand's width away from you, then pulls you close into a deep kiss, one that leaves you breathless within seconds. His tongue is everywhere, and his teeth nip and bite at your lip and neck until all you can do is cling to the collar of his shirt to help you ground yourself. He pushes you up against the nearest wall until you’re trapped between two solid entities. You’ve never felt safer and more sheltered. Your initial insecurity blows off as you lose yourself in the attention he’s paying you. His hands are eager to explore, roaming across your chest, pulling open your blouse with so much force you hear one of the buttons hitting the floor somewhere. You don’t mind; all you want is for him to keep going.

He does, forcing you to spread your legs so he can push one of his strong thighs between them, and you obey willingly, while you press sloppy, open-mouthed kisses against the hot skin of his neck, against the bulging vein that protrudes when you let your fingers brush against his chest and stomach, trailing lower and lower, eager to reach their goal. Before they can, he pushes up his thigh and you grind down onto it, both of you moaning from the strain and the tension of it. You can feel your slick coating your underwear, you’re sure he can feel the heat through the fabric of both your trousers, and it only spurs him on – he takes a hold of your hips and urges you to keep moving. You do, your eyes fluttering shut, as your entire world is reduced to that sweet friction as you chase your pleasure, completely lost in the moment.

But then his mouth is right next to your ear and he whispers something, his voice raspy and raw, and your whole body trembles.

“Look at you,” he says, and you feel the words reverberating in his chest. “You want this, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you breathe out in a whispered pant. “God, yes.”

He pushes up his thigh again and you let out a moan that fills the entire room.

His lips are still right next to your ear, you can feel his breath tickle your sensitive skin. “Can I kiss her?” he asks. “Will you let me?”

You can’t tell if it’s that he’s so close to you, so overwhelmingly close and solid and present, or if it’s the pleading edge to his voice when he asks you, but something makes you vibrate with desire and all you can do is nod quickly, your head connecting to the wall with a dull thud. You don’t even feel it.

He pulls you in for another kiss, taking his time with you, and you taste him, inhale his scent, drink him down, before you pull back with a soft chuckle. “Go,” you whisper, “she might get bored.”

“Yes,” he agrees, and presses another soft kiss to your lips. “I want you to take off your clothes, all right?” His thumb brushes over your cheek when he quickly cups your face. “Get comfortable …,” he hesitates, “… and if you want us to stop …”

“No!” you interrupt him. “No, please.”

The smirk spreading across his face is too cocksure for your taste, and while he’s turning away from you, you’re already trying to come up with a plan to get back at him.

Your skin still burns, it feels like your whole body, every cell, is on fire, your lungs struggle to draw in air to keep you alive. You’re sure you look like a mess, your fingers tingle and your legs shake, and you just can’t explain it, why he suddenly has this effect on you. You’re attracted to him, more than you’ve ever been to another man before, and he makes you feel so good whenever he touches you and fucks you, but this is new.

Your eyes never leave his back as he steps over to where Katie is standing completely still, as he pulls her close by her wrist, cups her cheek, his fingers tangling in her long hair, and then his lips are on hers, and she melts against him. You listen to her soft moans and his rough pants as they explore each other, and suddenly your body burns up with longing again, longing to be touched and kissed, longing to pull out those same sounds from someone else. You watch as he undresses her with adept hands, as he roughly cups one of her breasts and she mewls, satisfaction flashing across his face, as he shoves one hand between her legs, then turns to you with a satisfied grin.

He doesn’t have to say it. You know.

You hurry to get out of your clothes while Javi does the same. Katie is leaning against the wall, her body trembling, and you know how she feels, you know about the burning between her legs, about the heartbeat pounding in her ears. You’re all too familiar with the effects of his touch, his kisses, his filthy words whispered against sweat-slicked skin. But she’s been hit by it without a chance to prepare herself. When another car drives past, you get a glimpse of her flushed skin and the glimmer in her unfocused eyes, and yours flutter shut for a second in response as your hands curl into fists.

If this is what Javi gets to see when he touches you it’s not surprising he does it so often.

He takes your hand and leads you to the bed, helps you settle down comfortably. Katie follows, her gaze fixed on Javi’s hard cock, eyes wide.

“No,” he says, as if he can read her mind. “She’s first.”

It’s against your deal, against the rules you set for this to work. He shouldn’t be in charge, you should be, you should tell them what comes next, how to approach this. But when one of his hands grips your thigh and pulls so your legs spread and you hear a hissed breath as he looks at the evidence of your arousal slick and glistening between your legs, you lose all will to take charge. Instead, you let your head fall back and wait, wait for him.

And then there’s something else, too; Katie, on your other side, much smaller, less imposing, but there, smelling sweet and clean where Javi’s scent is heavy and choking. She settles down comfortably next to you, her body pressed against yours, and before you can get used to the feeling of her own arousal against your leg, she softly moves your head, so you look at her, and then she’s kissing you hungrily. Suddenly, her sweet scent is all you breathe and taste, her soft lips against your own ignite something deep within you, something you already felt back in the living room but which you pushed down for the time being because it wasn’t the right place. Now it is, and you pull back and push one of your legs between hers, watching how her jaw tightens, how her eyes open wide, and then she starts rolling her hips, coating your skin with her slick. You tangle your fingers in the hair at the nape of her neck and force her to look down, to watch herself, and when she does, you’re suddenly filled with two of Javi’s fingers, stretching you open.

A hoarse moan escapes your throat as he pulls them out again but immediately replaces them with three. You’re used to it, used to his thick, strong fingers stretching you, but you’re so wound up and on edge that it almost feels overwhelming. There are tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but then you feel Katie’s lips against your neck, and it brings you back down.

Somewhere above you, Javi huffs. “You’re so wet,” he says, his voice unbelievably deep and rough and it makes a shudder run through you from the top of your head to the tip of your toes. You want to come up with a witty retort, but you can’t, not when you hear what he says next. “Do you want to feel her, Katie?”

“Can I?” Katie whispers against your neck, but before the question has left her mouth in its entirety, you’re already replying.

“Yes, fuck,” you moan, trying to push up your hips to take Javi’s fingers in deeper.

He grips you with his free hand and pushes you back into the mattress. And then you feel the much softer touch of Katie’s fingers against your stomach, stroking you soothingly. She even whispers a soft, “Shh,” against the shell of your ear, and you squirm in reply, but then she finds your clit and softly circles it, once, twice, and you go limp at the same time as she bites down on your neck to muffle a breathless, “Fuck.”

You share that sentiment. Her fingers feel nothing like Javi’s. They’re softer both in touch and pressure but combined with his three still buried deep inside of you, still fucking into you with wet, obscene noises, you feel like you’ve found Heaven on Earth. You’re close, every muscle in your body tenses, and you close your eyes with a deep groan.

Suddenly, Javi’s hand closes around your jaw and he pulls. “Look at me,” he demands. “I want to see you.”

Reluctantly, you open your eyes, but then you see it. Javi is looking at you like he usually does, with amazement and want, but there is also a different edge to it, something between unrestrained lust and uninhibited pride, and something like adoration too, and he’s never looked at you like that before. It’s enough to push you over the edge and you come with a hoarse cry, tightening around his fingers, pushing him even deeper into you, and this time Katie has to hold you in place with a firm grip as he continues to fuck you with three wet fingers, fuck you through your orgasm, the muscles on his arm taut with the effort.

Only when you hiss and try to move away does he stop. He leans down to press a soft kiss against your temple as you shudder and try to catch your breath. Katie’s hand moves up to stroke across your stomach in lazy circles, while she presses small kisses along the underside of your jaw. You swallow hard and close your eyes – you have never, never, felt like this after an orgasm; you feel so open and vulnerable with both of them doting on you like this, but you also feel safe and secure. The only thing that’s missing is a feeling of deep satisfaction, and you might have an idea how to achieve that.

“You all right?”

It takes you a moment to realize Javi has addressed you, but once this information registers with you, you nod slowly. “Just give me a second,” you answer, your voice raw. You clear your throat and the movement stings.

Did you scream? You probably did but you don’t remember.

Javi relaxes, sits up, and carefully pulls out his fingers. You hadn’t even realized they were still inside of you, and you hiss at the sudden feeling of emptiness. He only smirks at you, a lopsided grin that ignites another spark of desire deep in your belly.

“Lie down,” you tell him, your voice still hoarse and dry.

He looks at you, a question on his face.

“Come on,” you urge him, pushing yourself up on your elbows so you’re closer to him. “Lie down on your back.”

He does as he’s told, lying down on your right side next to Katie who’s still cuddled up to you, still trying to kiss your neck, your shoulders, anywhere she can reach. But your eyes are on Javi, and on the unreadable expression on his face. There is definitely some curiosity there, some inquisitiveness, and you haven’t forgotten – you haven’t forgotten about wanting to get back at him.

With a finger under Katie’s chin, you tilt her head up to kiss her, a slow kiss that quickly turns into something more. She grips your arm and holds on as you take your time with her, exploring her mouth, exploring all the ways you can make her sigh and whimper. By the time you pull away, she’s a quivering mess and you can’t blame her, especially not once you realize why her moans have grown louder and more desperate during the last few minutes.

Javi’s hand is between her thighs, and you see him move two fingers in and out of her at a leisurely pace. This sight – his thick fingers, the same ones that were buried so deep inside of you only minutes ago, now coated in her slick – makes you bite back a moan that’s trying to force its way out of your chest. You lock eyes with Javi as he pushes a third finger into her and she drops her head onto your shoulder with a strangled sigh; there’s a challenge in his gaze, one you’re ready to accept.

You run your fingers through Katie’s hair and watch Javi continue what he’s doing, listen to the obscenely wet sounds his movements make, and whisper soothing words to the woman by your side, whisper to her how good she is for you, how well she’s taking it, how pretty she looks on display for you like that. You know Javi can hear you, you see his cock twitch when you ask, “Would you like him to taste you?” and her breathlessly replying, “Yes.”

Javi moves to get up, but you quickly put a stop to this by shaking your head. “No,” you say, “we’re doing this my way.”

Yes, there’s definitely curiosity in his gaze, but you also don’t think his eyes have ever been this dark before.

You softly kiss Katie again, then say, “Hey,” in the quietest voice you can muster, giving the circumstances. “Look at me.”

Katie opens her eyes and gazes at you, her brow knit tightly, her eyes glazed over with lust. The sight makes you bite your lip, and her gaze immediately flickers down to where your teeth dig into the soft flesh.

“Are you all right?” you ask her.

She nods slowly.

“If there’s something you don’t feel comfortable with, just tell me.”

She swallows and nods again. You have a feeling she wants to say something but doesn’t trust her voice.

You nod too. “Get up,” you say, giving the softness in your voice an edge to show her this isn’t up for debate.

Javi slowly pulls his fingers out of her and you see her thighs quiver at the loss. You help her into a kneeling position.

“He’s gonna taste you now, all right?” you ask, making sure everyone is on board with what’s going to happen next. “I’m going to take care of him, so I don’t want you to worry about that. But you’re going to look at me the whole time.”

Her eyes widen as she realizes what you mean, and you hear Javi inhale sharply behind her. You let them find a position that is comfortable for them while you move to settle between Javi’s legs. His cock is an angry, red color and you cannot wait to feel the weight of it in your hand, to give him some of the relief he’s craving. He’s been so good for you – for the both of you –, he deserves to be taken care of. You let your eyes wander to the tip, to the drop of pre-cum that is inviting you to lean down and taste him, when you hear a deep groan vibrate through his entire body, so depraved and unrestrained it makes you look up.

Katie’s thighs are planted to the left and right of Javi’s head, his hands are digging into her soft flesh to spread them even further. Her head is thrown back in pure bliss as he licks up into her, holding her down so he can reach as much of her as possible. You’re completely mesmerized by the sight in front of you, by Javi’s face buried between another woman’s legs, by her arousal coating his chin, and it makes your own cunt clench with need. For a moment, just one brief moment, you consider abandoning your plan, taking him inside of you until you’re joined, connected, until nothing could pull you apart, and then fucking him until he spills inside you, moaning your name into Katie’s cunt.

But you don’t.

You take a deep breath, then wrap your hand around the base of Javi’s cock.

His moan of strained relief sends a jolt of pleasure through you.

You run your fingers up his length and swipe your thumb across the tip, collecting some of the pre-cum. As a response, he digs his nails deeper into Katie’s thighs and she cries out, a sound somewhere between pain and pleasure.

“He likes it rough, you know,” you say, circling the tip of his cock with your thumb lightly, casually, as if you were doodling a circle while talking to someone on the phone.

Katie’s eyes snap open and she looks at you, but you’re not sure she sees you. You don’t blame her. You’re well aware of what Javi can do with his tongue. You know what it feels like when he moans against your wet cunt, your swollen clit. In fact, you’re surprised Katie hasn’t come all over his face yet.

“Grab his neck,” you say, and cannot help but laugh lewdly when she immediately complies, her slender fingers closing around his strong, muscular throat. You watch as a vein at the base of his neck bulges, straining with effort, while he never once falters, while he continues to lick through Katie’s wet folds like she’s the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted. “Go on then,” you say, your hand closing around the base of his cock again and squeezing, “don’t be shy – fuck his face.”

The way Katie follows your orders immediately, without hesitation, without the flicker of a doubt on her face, makes pleasure shoot through your veins. You swallow hard at the sight of her rolling her hips almost leisurely, her fingers still wrapped around his throat for purchase, while he drinks her down without complaint, a dark flush creeping up his chest and neck.

You’ve teased him enough.

You pump his cock once, twice, before settling yourself so you can wrap an arm around his leg, running your fingers through his coarse, dark hair, and then you finally allow yourself to taste him. You suck the tip of him into your mouth, letting his taste burst on your tongue, appreciating it like you would appreciate expensive wine. You take him in deeper, his heaviness familiar against your tongue, his taste sharp and strong, and he rewards you with a deep, dark growl, with low moans, with clipped sighs. One of his hands find its way to the nape of your neck to push you down further, and you let him. He’s been patient enough – he’s allowed to take for a while.

But there’s something else, too, another noise, one you usually don’t hear when you do this: the wet sound of his tongue against Katie’s center, her quiet gasps mixed with his strained huffs. You can feel yourself get impossibly wet at hearing them, at hearing this ambient noise all around you, and you let out a moan of your own before hollowing your cheeks to take even more of him in your mouth until his tip brushes against the back of your throat and you feel tears sting at the corner of your eyes.

Javi lets out a low growl and pushes his hips up. You hold him down, try to restrain him, but his muscles tense, his breathing gets ragged and then ….

You hear it, a quiet gasp, and look up. Katie’s eyes are on you, her face is flushed, she looks like she’s burning up, and it takes you a moment to realize what is happening until you notice she’s stilled completely, and her hands have left Javi’s neck and are braced against his broad chest, her nails digging into his flesh, leaving angry marks. She’s coming, she’s coming all over his face, while he continues to lick her with the most obscenely wet sounds you’ve ever heard. She doesn’t even have time to call out or shout his name because she’s so overwhelmed, taken completely by surprise, and you are, too. All you can do is sit up and watch her, brushing the loose strands of hair from her face, as she comes completely undone without a single sound.

You don’t give her much time to catch her breath, neither of you do. With a firm grip, Javi pushes her off him and you immediately set the next step of your plan in motion.

“Do you want to return the favor?” you ask her.

Her eyes grow wide, and it feels like she’s unable to speak, but she nods eagerly. You can see her heartbeat, a quick pulsing in her neck, tempting you, and you lean forward to kiss it.

“Go on then,” you whisper against her skin.

You swap places; she settles herself between Javi’s legs and you lie down next to him. He looks like a mess. His chest is rising and falling rapidly like he’s just finished running a marathon. There are marks all over the skin, and his cheeks are flushed. His eyes are glazed over, and his curls are damp with sweat, sticking to his forehead. You run your fingers through them, trying to smooth them back. He wipes the back of his hand across his mouth, drawing your eyes lower to his mustache that’s impossibly darker.

The urge to kiss him becomes unbearable.

When you do, he doesn’t taste like himself. There is another taste mixed in there, one that is foreign to you, and you bite down on his lip possessively when you taste it. He lets out a low growl and bucks his hips, drawing your attention downwards.

Katie looks up at the both of you, tears in her eyes. She’s doing her best, but you know how it is, you know that Javi’s size can be overwhelming at first. You decide to help her, to make this as enjoyable as possible for both of them.

“He likes a firm hold at the base,” you say.

Katie’s fingers close around his cock in a firm grip and Javi hisses, his breath fanning across your neck.

“Good girl,” you praise. You don’t know where this is coming from, but Katie’s eyes flutter shut and Javi’s chest rumbles with a desperate purr and you know you’ve said the right thing. “Use your tongue more,” you continue, “and try to get out of your head … he likes it sloppy.”

Katie’s tongue darts out to lick along the underside of Javi’s cock, from base to tip, before she takes him in her mouth again, doing her best to hold him steady. She doesn’t break eye contact with you and it’s only when you nod encouragingly that she lets him fall from her mouth with a wet plop, a trail of spit connecting her to his tip.

“Yeah, that’s better,” you tell her. “Keep that up and he won’t last long.”

You turn your attention back to Javi who looks at you with eyes impossibly dark. If there was a source of light in the room, you’re sure you’d be able to see your reflection in them. You grip a tuft of hair at the top of his head and hold him in place.

“Is this what you wanted?” you ask him, whispering the words into his ear, against his hot, flushed, sweat-slicked skin.

He nods, nothing more.

“I want to hear you say it,” you urge him on.

When he answers you with words, you hear why he was trying to communicate non-verbally. The “yes” he gives you is a hoarse, deep, desperate sound. You had no idea his voice could sound like this, could sound so wrecked, so taut, so pleading. You kiss him, and he kisses you back with such urgency, like a drowning man coming up for air.

You’re drunk, drunk on this power you have over him, drunk on being in charge of his pleasure while not even touching him, and you feel the desire to exploit this, to push him as far as he’ll let you without breaking him. You kiss him back, holding him in place with the fingers in his hair, while you listen to Katie moan around his cock. He moans, too, and his hips twitch, and you know he’s close, one fist tangled in the bedsheets, the other holding on to your arm.

“Katie, stop,” you say.

She does immediately, thinking there’s something wrong. Javi groans in frustration, his hips jerking upwards to chase that bit of friction from Katie’s hand still wrapped around him.

“Change of plans,” you tell them.

“No, please.”

You don’t recognize Javi’s voice. If you wouldn’t have seen his mouth move, you wouldn’t have known it was him who had just spoken.

“Please, querida.” He’s trying to convince you, he really is, knowing you usually can’t resist him when he calls you that, but you can, you have to this time.

“There’s something I want to try,” you tell him, letting your fingers run down his chest. “You said I could decide what we’re doing.”

“Yes, you can, but please …”

“If you do as I say …,” you say slowly, swallowing hard, “you can fuck me as hard as you want.”

He thinks this is hard for him, but it’s nothing compared to how hard this is for you. You’re sure you could come from hearing him say two more words in that voice of his. Luckily, he shuts his mouth and nods, determination on his face.

You sit up. “Katie, come here.” You beckon her close with a wave of your hand. “Lie down next to him.” Katie does as she’s told, glancing at Javi whose eyes are fixed on you. “Make sure his hands stay where you can see them. He’s not allowed to touch himself.”

“Yes,” Katie says, her voice hoarse.

You allow yourself to give her one kiss, just one, before you frame her chin with your thumb and index finger and turn her face so she’s looking at Javi. Where Javi’s skin is burning, Katie’s is cool to the touch when you let your hands run down her sides and over the taut plane of her stomach. She sucks in a quiet breath as you brush your fingers over her thighs, over the mound of hair between them, and then you touch her.

Your eyes flutter shut at the sensation, at feeling her soft, warm, wet center. You run your fingers through her drenched folds, you listen to her gasps and whimpers, you hear Javi’s voice, too, but you can’t understand what he’s saying. And then, with a shallow breath, you push one finger into Katie. You feel her clench around you, you hear her whisper your name in surprise, but you’re too mesmerized by the sight of your digit vanishing between her folds to look at her.

You get it. You get it now. You know, you understand why Javi loves doing this to you.

When you add a second finger and pick up the pace, Katie moans loudly, but still not loud enough to drown out Javi’s aroused grunt. You finally lift your head to look at them both, at Javi, whose mouth hangs open, who has a look on his face like he’s trying to solve an unsolvable puzzle, and at Katie, who’s doing her best to keep her gaze on Javi, but whose eyelids flutter dangerously.

You shift positions and then your face is level with Katie’s weeping cunt. You pull out your fingers, grab her thighs in a tight grip, and give her one experimental lick, just a taste, just a sample. It’s so different from what Javi tastes like, it’s less heavy, less prominent. You try it again. And again.

Katie is a whimpering mess by now; one of her hands is resting against the top of your head; what the other one is doing, you don’t know. All you can focus on is the feeling of her against your tongue as you suck on her clit. That makes her scream, and you do it again, until her voice is hoarse.

Then you hear Javi. “You like that?” he asks, and you think he’s talking to you, but when you lift your eyes, you see he has Katie’s face in a tight grip, forcing her to look at you.

Katie nods.

“Tell her,” Javi demands, tightening his grip.

“Fuck,” Katie moans, and for you, this would have been enough, but not for Javi.

“You can do better than that,” he coos.

“It – you feel so good,” Katie tries. “God, I … more, please.”

“What do you need?” Javi asks. “Tell her.”

“Can I have … I just need … a finger,” Katie answers, her face and chest impossibly red, her expression open and vulnerable, her eyes glazed over. “I just want something to come on.”

You pull away for a second, a smirk on your face. “You can have two,” you say, before shoving two fingers inside her. You feel her tense around you, pulling you in deeper, and when you put your tongue back on her clit, she lets out the filthiest, most desperate moan you’ve heard her make all evening.

She didn’t moan like that when Javi was between her legs.

“Do you want to come?” you hear Javi ask her, and a strangled sound is the reply. “That good enough for you?” he asks you.

“No,” you say between licks.

“You heard her,” Javi goes on. “Try again.”

“Please …,” Katie whimpers. “I need to …”

You push your fingers impossibly deeper into her and she tightens around them with a hoarse scream, over and over, while you suck her clit into your mouth again with a filthy sound. She tries to pull away then, but you hold her in place with your free hand.

“No,” you say, your voice breathy. “Another one.”

Javi lets go of Katie’s face and shifts on the bed. Your eyes flicker to him, but he’s keeping his promise so far.

“Think you can do it?” he asks Katie.

“I don’t know,” she answers.

“You can,” you tell her. “Just keep an eye on him.”

You’re on thin ice, you know that. There’s only so far Javi will allow you to push him. But you feel drunk on the power you hold not only over him, but also over Katie. Her legs tremble when you drag your tongue through her wet folds again, her muscles twitch, and her hips push upwards. You hold her down, then repeat the movement with your tongue before pushing the tip of it into her. Katie’s head falls back with another loud moan, and this time you let her roll her hips against your mouth before pulling away.

The desperate whimper she makes cloaks your mind in a hazy, filthy mist of lust.

“Tell me, Katie,” you start, lazily pushing the tip of your finger into her, “who’s better? Me or him?”

You don’t look at her as you say it, you look at Javi. He holds your gaze, his expression unreadable, but there is something in his eyes, something that reminds you of a gathering storm.

“You,” Katie breathes out. “You, fuck!”

And then the storm breaks loose in Javi’s eyes. You see the lightning, hear the thunder, you feel the electricity prick at the back of your neck. You shouldn’t have asked Katie this question, you shouldn’t have provoked him like this, but here you are. There no taking it back now.

Even as you turn your attention back to Katie, even as you taste her cunt once more, you know he’s watching you. You feel his heated gaze, you feel something simmer just beneath the surface. As long has Katie moans and writhes beneath you, you’re safe. Javi won’t make his move. But as soon as Katie comes, you will have to pay.

And she does, eventually. She pushes her hips up, pressing your face against her with a firm grip at the back of your head, and you feel her come all over your tongue and chin with quiet shouts of pleasure.

Before you have time to collect yourself, before you have time to sit up or catch your breath, Javi is behind you. You don’t even see him move, you only realize he’s changed position when you feel the heat of his body against your back, when you feel his fingers on your sides, when you feel him slam into you. The sheer force of it pushes you up the bed until you’re right above Katie’s dazed face. You hold on for dear life, your fingers gripping the bedsheets, as Javi fucks you with so much force you can feel him everywhere. You don’t even have enough air left in your lungs to cry out, all you can hear is his skin against yours and his low grunts as he’s finally taking what you’ve denied him for so long. There is nothing you can do but let him.

You know you won’t last long, neither of you will. But when you feel Katie’s fingers against your clit, when you look into her eyes and see her bite her lip in concentration, it’s too much. The contrast between Javi fucking you at a punishing pace and Katie’s soft touch, almost like a caress, loosens something within you before your entire body tenses up. Something is happening to you that you cannot quite explain. You feel yourself grow unbelievably wet, so wet Javi slips out of you completely for a second but pulls you back onto him with a rough tug, and then you hear Katie moan out a low, “Shit”. You bury your face in the crook of her neck, feeling wrung out yet taut at the same time. It’s so overwhelming you feel like you’re about to explode, like you cannot keep going, but they don’t stop. Javi has an arm slung around your stomach as he holds you in place, Katie has your hip in a firm grip while she circles your clit with a movement that’s enough to keep you on edge but not push you over it. Javi has grown completely quiet, and you know exactly why; you know what his face looks like even though you can’t see him, you know he’s about to come from the way his muscles twitch against your back. But you don’t know if you can give him what he wants, if you can come on his cock buried deep inside you, his cock that sends jolt after jolt of rough pleasure through you. You’re too overwhelmed, you won’t be able to let go.

But then, your face still buried in Katie’s neck, you hear her say, “Come for us,” and that’s all it takes. You do, your muscles closing around Javi’s cock like a vise, while you bite down on the soft skin of Katie’s shoulder, trying to muffle the scream that tears itself from an undiscovered place within you, so well hidden, so deeply buried you had no idea it existed. And while you feel wave over wave of pleasure rush through you, you also feel Javi flood you in wave over wave of hot release, his body completely still, holding you in place until he’s done.

He pulls out of you with a wet sound, and you immediately sink down next to Katie, spent and exhausted and more tired than you’ve ever felt in your life. Katie kisses your cheek, your temple, your lips, anywhere she can reach, while Javi gets a wet cloth from the bathroom to clean you up. The second to last thing you remember is Javi joining you on the bed again, his strong arms wrapping around you, whispering soothing words.

The last thing you remember is taking Katie’s hand into yours and saying, “Stay.”

***

It’s early morning, the street outside Javi’s flat is still quiet, and you yawn as you lean against his arm, a cup of coffee in your hand.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay for breakfast?” you ask Katie as you watch her put on her shoes.

“Thank you, but I have a lot of work to catch up on,” she rejects your offer again with a smile. “Another time maybe?”

“Do you want to grab coffee sometime?” you ask her.

“Sure!” she exclaims excitedly. “Anytime.”

“I’ll give you a call, okay?”

She nods, then pulls you away from Javi and into a tight hug. “It was lovely meeting you,” she says, her arms still slung around you. “I had a lot of fun.”

“Me too,” you say, before pulling away.

Katie turns her attention to Javi. “Thank you,” she says. For what exactly, she doesn’t reveal.

Javi, his hair still messy from sleep, wearing nothing but an old pair of boxers, looking exhausted and tired, still manages to smile at her. He leans down and presses a kiss against her cheek. She presses a kiss against his lips.

“See you,” she says, meaning both of you.

#javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña #agent peña x reader #agent peña x you #javier peña x reader x katie #javier peña x you x katie #narcos fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #i know this is long it was supposed to be 5k max #never in my life was i this nervous about posting something #i'm just idk a soft bitch or something

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comfortwriting · 3 years

Text

That’s a Good Girl - F.W

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompt Masterlist

Fred Weasley x Fem Reader (light dom/sub)

Requested/About: Fred's girlfriend has been away on holiday with her friends for two weeks, when she finally comes home, Fred wants nothing more than to dominate her after all of the teasings she put him through.

Prompts:

Prompt 113: His hard cock poked through his trousers, you smirked at the sight and continued to frustrate him.

Prompt 114: He stared down at you, pride splashed across his face "that's a good girl, keep going."

Warnings: 18+ Smut, male and female oral receiving, orgasm denial, sub reader, fingering, dom Fred, penetrative sex, swearing, dirty talk, mention of alcohol, sex toys, spanking.

As much as you loved the sunshine, the beaches, cocktails, and clubbing with your friends in another country, you had to admit - you couldn't wait to be off that plane and arrive home. Spending two weeks away from your family and Freddie was hard at first, but you were having the time of your life in the sun, you made the most of your bikinis and made sure Fred could see just how much he was missing you.

Freddie,

Not long until I'm home now. The weather here is amazing, not a single cloud in the sky or drop of rain! It's a nice change deciding which bikini to wear to keep me cool instead of a coat to keep me warm if only you could see me... you're lucky I've sent these photographs, just make sure you hide them if Ron or George comes over, I know they have a habit of exploring our house.

That much was true, one afternoon, Ron came over and said he needed to use the loo, he was gone for twenty minutes - he had looked around your room and found it both embarrassing yet hilarious when he uncovered the drawer of sex toys next to the bed.

Don't forget to write back, I'd love to know what you think of these photos, just remember to save yourself for me, I'll be able to tell if you don't.

Lots of love,

Y/N.

Fred pushed your letter aside and instantly gripped onto the bundle of movie photographs of you in your bikini, teasing him - pressing your boobs together, massaging them, opening your legs, toying with the string on your bikini bottoms, bending over and showing him your behind, a cheeky smirk on your face, your lust-filled eyes staring at him.

He couldn't help but get hard in his trousers, the very sight of you teasing him made it hard for him to keep his promise - he pumped his cock in his hand, pleasuring himself, but forced himself to edge, he couldn't climax - he had to wait for you.

This was only the beginning, you sent him more teasing pictures, making it harder and harder for him to stick to his word - you were doing this on purpose, you knew and loved the effect you had on him, and you were looking forward to what was awaiting you as you got off the plane and apparated home.

Fred knew you were coming home, he got himself dressed into a smart suit and set the scene in the bedroom, rose petals on the bed, candles across the room - he wanted this to be a night of passion, but both you and he knew that it wouldn't be passionate at all; tonight would be rougher, and more lustful than ever.

Without realising, you had already arrived home, placing your bags and suitcase in the living room, slowly walking into the bedroom, standing behind Fred and patting him on the shoulder.

"How cute," you said softly, smiling at the rose petals and admiring the effort he put in.

Fred jumped slightly and blushed, he turned around and grabbed you by the waist, pulling you into him. His aftershave engulfing you, his hot breath beaming down on you as he lifted up your chin with his thumb.

"I've missed you, love." he growled.

You bit your lip and looked up into his hungry eyes, "I've missed you too," you smirked, knowing what was coming.

Fred's hand squeezed your waist, his lips attacking yours, the two of you kissing, fighting for dominance as his tongue slipped into your mouth, causing you to moan out after being touch starved for so long.

Your own hands reached his trousers, unbuckling his belt, you tossed it on the floor and it fell with a clunk, you then cupped his erection, massaging it with your soft hands. His hard cock poked through his trousers, you smirked at the sight and continued to frustrate him.

Fred pulled away from the kiss and tugged his zipper down, you were ready for this, for him, you were ready to follow his commands.

"Don't forget love," he growled in your ear, "you won't be getting away with your teasing."

Fred pushed you down on your knees and grabbed you by the hair, pulling your face into his erection that was bursting through his boxers, brushing your mouth along his length, his soft moans breaking out.

Your mouth latched around his dick through his boxers, you looked up into his lustful eyes and batted your eyelashes at him.

"Don't act all innocent," he stroked your cheek before gripping onto your hair even more "you know what to do."

Yes, you did know, and you didn't want to disappoint.

Pulling down his boxers, his large length sprung up and slapped against his tummy, you held the base of his cock and dragged your tongue against his shaft before taking him in your mouth. Sucking and swirling your tongue around the head, making him moan louder and more frequently as he pushed your head down, his cock pushing against your throat, making you choke and your eyes water.

"Don't give up," he smirked, "keep going Y/N."

Doing as you were told, you took him into your throat, deeper and deeper until your nose and lips were pressing against his lower abdomen and trimmed hairs.

Your teary eyes glistened in the candlelight, unable to hold yourself down for much longer, Fred released his grip, you pulled yourself off him and gasped for air, the laces of saliva running out of your mouth, coating your lips and chin.

But this wasn't over, and you knew you were still in deep trouble - getting off the hook now wasn't possible, you were just warming up.

Spitting your saliva onto Fred's length and coating it, you pushed yourself back down on him, bobbing your head, pumping his cock whilst you sucked.

He stared down at you, pride splashed across his face "that's a good girl, keep going."

You went faster and faster until Fred couldn't hold back anymore, he could feel himself getting close - this wasn't two weeks worth, nowhere near close.

Fred quickly pulled you off him, catching his breath like you - lifting you up he threw you onto the bed, taking off his blazer, white shirt, and smart tie. You wanted him to keep the tie on, you thought he looked sexy, but no matter.

"Take off your jeans and t-shirt," he demanded, "and get on all fours."

Quickly getting undressed, your clothes fell into a pile, covering his belt and tie. Getting down on all fours, Fred's hand gently stroked your behind before he pulled it away and collided against your cheek, making you squeal with each spanking. Your behind felt raw, hot, and you had no doubts Fred's handprints would be visible all over them, the thought of sitting down at work tomorrow was unbearable.

"Freddie!" you yelped out "Freddie, I'm sorry!"

"You aren't sorry," he slapped again "You know naughty girls get punished."

You nodded your head, biting your lip, awaiting the next spank - but it never came. Instead, Fred pulled hooked the hem of your knickers with his index finger and pulled them down to your knees, you could feel his hot breath against your clit, the fluttering inside you getting you all excited.

Fred's tongue dragged up and down your clit, swirling in circles teasingly before his two hands spread your thighs as his tongue waited at your entrance so he could push his tongue inside you deeper. His wet, slick, tongue plunged inside of you, your jaw-dropping, his name spilling from your mouth, along with the words 'fuck'.

Fred pulled away and spat on his index and middle finger, filling you back up, pumping in and out whilst he flicked his tongue against your clit, sucking on it every now and then, sending you over the edge as his fingers reached deep inside you repeating the 'come here' motion once he found your G-Spot.

Your walls tightened around his fingers with each pump, his tongue making you buck your hips and bite on your bottom lip as it went a deep shade of red.

You couldn't take it anymore, you needed to cum.

"Freddie - I'm so close - please-"

You wished you kept quiet, because you were now empty, and his tongue had stopped exploring you. Huffing you lowered yourself into the pillows, the rose petals soft against your skin.

"That's not fair!"

"Naughty girls don't get to cum," he said softly, he held the base of his cock in his hand, pumping himself at the sight of your cunt "Not until they redeem themselves."

He and you both knew you had redeemed yourself, but the night was young and Fred had missed the smell, sight, and feel of you so much he wanted to make the most of your evening before the two of you were up early for work the next morning.

"I want you so bad" you whined.

"Get the lube and a condom then, love."

Reading to your side and pulling open the bedside drawer, you did as you were told and handed him the bottle of lube and a condom.

"Good girl." he replied, tearing open the packaging and rolling the condom down his shaft, coating it with lube, your entrance too.

"Turn over," he said "I want to watch your face as I fuck you."

Turning over, Fred sat on the edge of the bed, pulling you into his lap, facing him, you slowly lowered yourself down on his large, hard, cock, your mouth opened wide as he stretched you out and filled you up. Once comfortable, you wrapped your legs around his hips and your arms resting on his shoulders, your hands getting lost in his hair.

He slowly started to thrust inside of you, warming you up as you got used to his size, whilst doing so, you slowly circled your hips, moaning out in pleasure at the feeling of his dick exploring you. Fred's lips attacked your collar bones, he sucked and nibbled on them, covering you in his marks. You pulled at his hair and yelped out as he picked up the pace, thrusting into you faster and deeper, the sound of his cock slamming inside of you filled the room, almost as loud as your moans, his groans, and your swearing.

With each thrust, you felt yourself coming undone, Fred didn't want to admit it, but he couldn't save himself for another round - the idea of doing so would be torture. Your breasts bouncing up and down, the view of your behind through the mirror covered in his handprints only got him closer, your walls started to strangle him, the same familiar pressure building up inside of you, increasing until -

"Please let me cum now!" you begged "I can't hold back for much longer!"

"Then don't hold back, Y/N," Fred grunted, covered in beads of sweat "cum for me."

Fred bucked his hips, watching you as you lolled your head back, mouth opened wide, scrunching your eyes shut - releasing - your cum flowing down his length, the pressure exploding in your stomach and sending such waves through your body. This. This is what Fred had been waiting for. This was enough to push him over the edge.

Fred released, gripping onto your waist and holding you down as he ejaculated, he held you still and pulled you into his arms, his head against your chest, just above your breasts, the sound of your thumping heart filling his ears.

"I suppose I've redeemed myself, then." you breathed, kissing the top of Fred's head, his golden hair soft.

Fred let out a light laugh, "After all that teasing, you can be a good girl after all."

taglist: @amourtentiaa @horrorxweasley @reeophidian @alwaysnforeverfangirl @inglourious-imagines @onlyfreds @lucymfer @xmalfoyweasleyx @nimueh-lacus @supermassiveblackhope @youralternantpersonality

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley x you #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley oneshot #fred weasley fanfic #george weasley #george wealsey x reader #george wealsey imagine #george weasley fanfiction #George Weasley one shot #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #Harry Potter fanfic #the golden trio

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supercorpkid · 3 years

Text

A weekend without Kara.

Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader.

Word count: 3300.

“AHHH!” You yell standing up in one movement, looking at the portal opening in front of you, right in the middle of your living room. “Holy shit.” You put your hand on your chest and watch the Flash coming out of the portal.

“Oh, hi Superkid!” He smiles at you and you give him a thumbs up, after the first scare. “Is Supergirl home?”

“MOMMA! Uncle Barry is here to drag you to another reality so you two can fight some…” You look at him raising an eyebrow.

“World-consuming alien.” He answers and you agree with your head.

“Some nonsense alien.” You yell again and you hear Kara agreeing from her bedroom, saying she’ll be right down.

“How did you know?” Barry asks, looking at you throwing yourself back on the couch.

“Please. Like you would just show up here to say she looks pretty on her dress or something.” He agrees with his head. You’re right.

“Hey, wanna race while she doesn’t come?” Barry smiles and you stand up again.

“Yeah, I’ve been training a lot. I think I can beat you now.” You walk to the front door and open it.

“One time around the block and here is the finish line?” He asks and you shake your head agreeing. You both get in position for the run. “Ready? Go!” Barry becomes a flash in your eyes, and stops next to you a second later. He looks at you standing by the door, furrowing his brows. “Wait! How are you here already? I’m pretty sure I just broke the sound barrier.”

“Well, I told you I could beat you.” You walk back into the house, and Kara appears all dressed as Supergirl.

“Kid, I’ll be gone for a while. Please text your mom to come stay with you.” Kara asks and you agree with your head, but you don’t move. She points at your phone in your pocket. “Now, come on. I want to see you typing.”

“Fine.” You grab the phone and pretend to send an audio message. “Hey guys, I’ll be alone for the weekend! Party at my house! Bring a beer keg!”

“Ha-ha. Very funny.” Kara is unamused while Barry laughs extremely loud next to her. She shoots him a disapproving look.

“Sorry. She’s hilarious.” Barry shrugs defensively and you smile.

You: Momma is going to another reality. World-consuming alien. The Flash. Probably another bunch of weird stuff.

Mom: OK! Do you want to meet me at the hotel, or should I go home?

You: Home, please.

Mom: Ok baby, see you there after work.

You show your texts to Kara, who shakes her head agreeing. Then looks at Barry next to her, giving him a nod.

“Ok.” He fumbles with the portal control, almost dropping it, then presses the button to open it. “Good to see you Superkid! Next time don’t let me race alone!” He winks at you and you smile.

“Guess you are smart.” You do finger guns at him and he goes into the portal. Kara walks towards you and kisses your forehead.

“Please, be good. If you need anything at all, call your aunt Alex. Be nice to your mom. If there’s an emergency and you need to save National City, please be careful.” She adds another kiss to your forehead. “I love you, little one.”

“I love you, mommy. Be careful out there.” You smile and she agrees, before walking into the portal and disappearing right after.

You look around the empty house and the clock on the kitchen wall. You’re not throwing a party, obviously, but what’s stopping you from having your girlfriend over? You text her, and it doesn’t take long until she’s at your door.

You have everything prepared when she arrives, and you both settle in the living room to watch a movie. She has her arms wrapped around you the entire time and you feel happy and bubbly about the whole situation.

“Hey.” She whispers on your jaw, and gives you a sweet kiss there. “I don’t want to ruin the moment, but can we talk about what happened today at school?”

You forage your brain trying to remember what happened, but nothing comes. You look at her with furrowed brows to show your confusion.

“What that girl said to you?” Maya adds when she realizes you have no idea what she is talking about. “Babe, you can’t possibly have forgotten about it.” She opens a little more distance between you two, shaking her head in denial. “She told you to kill yourself.”

“Oh! Ah! Yes!” You stand up, a little uncomfortable, collecting the empty popcorn containers, and soda cans. “That’s just, you know-”

“That’s just heinous it’s what that is.” She stands up again. “How can you not have told her to go fuck herself or something?”

“Oh no, babe. That’s not-” You turn your back to her, so she won’t see your face completely red. “Why would I do that? I can’t drop to her level.”

“Oh my God, are you serious?” Maya’s voice comes a little louder. You know she’s not fighting you, and that she’s not upset with you, but with the situation. Your heart still starts pounding in your chest, either way. “She told you that you should die because you have Luthor in your name. How can you put up with that and not say a word?”

She walks towards you, taking everything you’re holding out of your hands and putting in the nearest surface. She cups your face and smiles at you.

“I get that you’re the nicest person in the universe, but I can’t stomach the way they treat you in that school. And I don’t like that you put your head down for them.” She kisses your cheek lightly. “If you’re not going to fight them, I will.”

“I just don’t think it’s worth it. It’s not like they’ll ever stop.” You shrug, looking into her eyes. She sighs. “Besides, I’m used to it.”

“Babe, that’s even more upsetting.” Maya puts her head on your collarbone. “What do your moms say about it?”

“Oh no. No.” You step a little further away from her, shaking your head. “They can’t know about the things they say. It would be very distressing.”

You hear a noise in the kitchen and you don’t even have to use your x-ray vision to know that Lena is home, making noises so you notice her there.

“Lena is here.” You say, and Maya holds your hand, when you two walk to the kitchen. “Hey mom.”

“Oh hey-” Lena raises her head from the grocery bags. “Girls.”

“Hello, Mrs. Luthor.” Maya answers and turns her face to you. “Walk me out?”

“Yeah.” Lena waves a quick goodbye at Maya, and you take her outside, closing the door for a little goodbye kiss without Lena being able to see it. “I’ll see you Monday.”

“Ok. Please, text goodnight.” Maya adds before turning on her heels and leaving your house.

You go back inside, and look at Lena putting the food she bought on the fridge. You help her, without saying a word.

“Please tell me you’re eating healthy.” Lena asks, knowing the answer by the things on the fridge. You shrug.

“Maybe you should come back home and make me.” You open a smile and she chuckles, holding your chin and looking at you lovingly.

“Funny.” Lena kisses your cheek and you hug her, laying your head on her shoulder. She strokes your back gently, and you sigh.

“I miss you here.”

Lena doesn’t answer. You know she misses you too by the way she’s holding you tight, and by the way her heart is beating. You know she’s hurt with Kara, and you wish there was something you could do about it.

“So.” Lena lets go of you, cleans one tear on her face, and looks at the things she didn’t put away. “You start on the salad, and I’ll start on the chicken.”

“Sounds good.” You two fall into a natural and comfortable silence while cooking together. It’s twice as fast without Kara around, but half as fun.

After you two finish cooking, she puts the food on the table, while you finish setting it up.

“You know I don’t have super hearing.” Lena says, while filling her glass with wine. You sit and wait for her to come closer. “But, when I got home, I heard you and Maya talking, and it sounded like you two were fighting.”

“Oh, no, we weren’t.” You deny with your head, and serve yourself. Lena finally comes back with her wine. She sits, crossing her legs, reclining on the chair and looking at you from the other side of the table.

“I know. I’ve heard.” She says and you look up to her, realizing what that means. “Baby-”

“Mom, I got it, ok? You don’t have to worry about it.” You sigh, putting food on your mouth, and giving her a thumbs up, because it’s delicious. “Let’s not ruin this perfect dinner with this conversation.”

“I’m sorry, babygirl. I think we should ruin dinner.” Lena says and you sigh. “What they do to you it’s not right. No one is supposed to hear the things you do, because of your stupid name. God, sometimes I regret giving it to you in the first place.”

“Mom.”

“No, I-I do. I should’ve known better. It’s too big of a burden to carry, and you are the opposite of what this name stands for.” Lena’s eyes are filled with tears and you bite your lip. “I actually thought people would forget about Lex. But he keeps coming back and dragging our names through the mud, all the time.”

You know she’s mad at Lex for mind controlling you still, so you let her vent. She’s been keeping this feeling bottle up for more than a week now, not having Kara to talk about it.

“And you, the sweetest, nicest person on the planet, keep paying for it.” Her tears fall, and your heart squeezes in your chest. You hate seeing her like that. “I wish you had nothing to do with this sick, rotten family.”

“But then I would have nothing to do with you.” You get up from your chair, rounding the table and going to her. “And you are the best thing in my life.” You smile. “And momma, of course.”

“Baby.” She cups your face with one hand, and smiles through the tears. “You are the best thing in my life. I love you so much.”

“Listen. You are right. I shouldn’t have to endure all the hate speeches, and all the teasing, but kids are stupid. I don’t think that half of them actually hate me because of my name, I think they hate me because it’s fun.” Lena raises her eyebrow at that. “It’s fun to laugh at the school genius, at least that’s what I see in every teen movie.”

Lena gives a little laugh and kisses your cheek.

“You’re amazing. Are you sure you’re just sixteen?” She asks and you shrug.

“You tell me.” You round the table again, going to your place. “You’re the one who made me in a lab.”

The dinner goes smoothly after that. The food is incredible and you know it’s only been a little more than a week, but you missed her food anyway. Lena’s presence feels right, like it always did. And you just wish she could stay more than just the weekend.

You two hang out a lot. It feels stupid when you think it hasn’t been that long since she left home, why were you missing her so much? Why were you missing her telling you to clean up your room, and help her with dinner?

After the conversation she overheard between you and Maya, she became Maya’s number one fan. It’s hilarious, and you didn’t see it coming. But every time you say Maya’s name, she just opens the biggest smile and it’s awesome.

You don’t want this weekend to end.

But it’s Sunday night, and your heart feels heavy even though Lena is still right next to you on the couch, talking about some experience that went wrong in the lab, and that one of the interns got so scared he’ll be blamed for it, he almost puked.

“Poor kid.” Lena adds, in the end, and you agree with your head.

“But you forgave him, right?” You ask and she agrees. “Then why can’t you forgive momma?”

“Baby, that’s not-”

“Mom, I don’t know what happened but, well, you once told me that we’re Luthor-Danvers, and that means that we might get upset, but we know how to recognize our mistakes and apologize.” You raise an eyebrow at her.

“I wish it was that simple.” Lena sighs, and you hug her.

“It could, if you two just stopped overcomplicating stuff and just talked.” Lena doesn’t answer. She kisses your forehead, and falls silent for the rest of the night, looking too lost in her thoughts.

When Kara comes back from another reality is really late at night. You and Lena are comfortable on the couch watching a cooking show, when the portal opens again in the middle of the living room.

“Lena!” Kara looks so surprised as if she didn’t make you text your mom in front of her to make sure Lena would come to keep you company.

“Oh, hi.” Lena stands up, fidgeting her fingers, nervously. You roll your eyes thinking this is very pathetic. Just make-up already! “Well, great! You’re home. I suppose other realities are saved?” Kara shakes her head, agreeing. Eyes looking at Lena’s hands, then focusing back at her eyes. “Then I should get going.”

“NO!” Kara says a little louder than she planned to, reaching out to Lena, but not really touching her arm. Damn, it was so close. “It’s late.” She guesses by looking at the sky. “You should stay. It’s-It’s your house.”

Lena raises an eyebrow, and they stare at each other for a few seconds. Do they even know you’re there or have them forgotten completely about your existence?

“You take the bedroom and I’ll sleep on the couch.” Kara points at it, and sees you sitting there. “Or with the kid.” Oh, so they know you’re there.

“I don’t know…” Lena bites her lips, and you open your eyes at Kara, encouraging her.

“Please. It makes no sense for you to leave. It’s late, and even if it wasn’t-just-yeah-please.” Kara is always so articulate. But still, somehow, that makes Lena agree with her head and she decides to stay. You smile to yourself, and whisper a ‘thank you’ when she sits back on the couch, and Kara goes to take a shower.

When you hear that Kara has finished getting ready, you go to your room, so you can leave them alone to see if they finally talk. They don’t. Seriously, what are you going to do about this?

“Hey.” Kara knocks on your door then puts her head inside. “Will you absolutely hate it if I sleep here tonight?”

“C’mere.” You open your arms, and Kara smiles, walking into your arms, and laying in bed with you. “How were things in the other dimension?”

“Hard. Maybe I’m getting too old for this.” Kara says making you laugh in response, and soon she adds. “Don’t you dare saying I’m 70.”

“But you are.” You say and she sticks her tongue out at you, and flop back on her belly next to you.

“How were things here?”

“Great. It’s really good having mom home.” You watch her expression when you say that. She hums in agreement, but doesn’t say anything. “So, are you going to apologize or what?”

“Why do you assume it was my fault?” Kara furrows her brows, and you ease her crinkle with your thumb.

“I don’t. I have no idea whose fault it is. Or even if it’s a matter of culpability, at all. All I know is that, it doesn’t matter.” You stroke her back gently. “You love her, she loves you. You guys have been through so much, and you have never ever given up on her.”

“I’m not giving up now, either.”

“Well, then do something about it.” You say and Kara breathes deep. You raise your eyebrow at her. “Now! Do something now!”

“Ok, yeah.” She stands up and goes to the door. Before she leaves, she comes back and kisses your forehead. “You’re the best kid in the entire universe. You know that, right?”

“Yeah. Now, go.”

It would be a lot easier if your power had just gotten out of control again, and you could blame your eavesdropping on this, but that's not the case. What is happening is that your heart is so heavy on your chest. You know they keep saying it was not your fault, but if this is true why is your guilt practically consuming you? So, you need to know.

“Hey.” You hear a knock on the door, and Kara’s voice right after.

“Oh, Kara. Do you need to grab something?” Lena’s voice comes a little surprised.

“No, I-Lena, I’m really sorry.” Kara breathes out, like she was holding the apology for days, which is probably true. “Of course, I believe you, and I don’t think there’s a world you would ever hurt her, but I got really scared. I saw the look on her face, and she kept calling me mommy, and I caved.”

So, it was your fault! Holy shit you knew it! Lena’s voice comes an entire minute later, which almost makes you faint in anticipation. Come on Lena, come on. You can do it.

“I’m sorry too.” OH, THANK RAO. “You were right, there were other ways, and she was in pain. But don’t think for a second I wasn’t scared too.”

“I know. I know you were. I know you ARE.” Kara says, and you lower your glasses to see if they’re hugging, and they’re still not. Goddammit Kara, do something! “It doesn’t matter how many times the world gets in danger and our existence is threatened. Every time she is the one in danger, I-It’s-”

“Yeah.” Lena’s face drops and you watch Kara coming closer. Reaching out with one hand. Fingers ghosting over Lena’s arm. Your heart is stuck on your throat the entire time, and it feels like it’s going to explode in anticipation. Go, momma, please.

But Kara doesn’t go to Lena.

It’s Lena who goes to her.

Lena hugs Kara’s waist tight and sobs on her t-shirt. You hear Kara’s heart skipping a beat, and a breath of relief leaving her mouth.

“We’re ok.” Kara kisses the top of Lena’s head, wrapping her arms around her head, pressing her further into her chest. “She’s ok. We-We’ll figure this out, love.”

Lena’s heart beats a lot faster and she looks up, gazing into Kara’s eyes. They don’t have to say the words, so you know what they’re thinking. But they do it anyway.

“I love you, Lena.” Kara smiles, kissing Lena’s head again, and it’s time for Lena’s heart to skip a beat. “Always have, always will. In a hundred lifetimes, in any alternative reality, in every world. I love you.”

“I love you, honey.”

You stop listening, because now it’s way too private and it seems like things are better. And since Kara doesn’t come back to your bedroom, you’re right to assume things are better than they were before. But your heart only truly eases, when Monday comes and Lena comes back home after work. That’s when you can finally breathe.

Notes:

@itzyourgirlnat prompted a week without Kara and I LOVED IT!

Also Kara and Lena are back together, so the angst is over, ooof! What a long ride!

#kara x lena #supergirl #kara danvers #lena luthor #supercorp #supercorpfamily #kara x reader #supercorp daughter #supercorp fanfic #lena x reader #reader insert

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