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#I'll manage to draw him one day in a way that you could look at both of his eyes without your brain breaking a little I promise
omaano · 1 year
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My guy, smoking is really bad for you
We believe in blatant favouritism in this household, so I will just keep turning most of my Tem portrait practices into Rex until seriously motivated otherwise
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aledmorningstar · 1 month
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╰┈➤Misunderstood
Summary: How the gang finds out about Sukuna's girlfriend in a misunderstanding.
Relationship: Ryomen Sukuna/Reader
Word count: 3.0k
Note: I'm a liar, I know I said this would go up yesterday, in my defense we set very optimistic goals. Please comment and feel free to send me anything to my inbox
-‘๑’-: No curses au, uni au, sfw, humor, fluff, bad english
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The house of the twins Yuji and Ryomen seemed more lively than normal, as every weekend they had planned a movie afternoon, the meetings began early after leaving school, buying snacks, preparing comfortable clothes and choosing some games of table.
Yuji's face wrinkled into a displeased grimace at seeing his twin dressing casually to go out for a walk down the street, while he and his friends were already prepared wearing their comical pajamas, it wasn't fair. This time it was Yuji's turn to choose the movie so as not to let his brother get away with it.
“What are you doing?”
Sukuna turned to look for a second indifferently at his brother while he finished fastening the buttons of his dark shirt. How could he take seriously his brother who maintained an irritated pout while wearing those ridiculous tiger-themed full-body pajamas?
"I'm going out, tell mom I'll be late"
Yuji's moan of annoyance echoed throughout the house, drawing the attention of Nobara and Megumi who were stealthily trying to spy on the conversation by hiding behind a wall.
"You said you would watch Human Worm 4 with us today!"
The one with the caramel eyes began to complain about the injustice that was occurring, a perfect time for his faithful friends to take action.
“We already prepared everything, you can't leave us stranded for an afternoon of movies!”
Nobara grumbled as she tried to fix the sleeves of her raccoon pajamas.
"We made a pact, you must suffer with us"
Megumi was supposed to be the most mature of the group, perhaps Sukuna had overestimated him because he never imagined seeing him share the same neuron as his friends while also wearing ridiculous beige dog pajamas.
“It's a shame brats, it'll have to be another day.”
The older twin's hands didn't stop moving trying to find the car keys; he had somehow managed to look appropriately with a hint of elegance, but without losing that menacing aura, a pair of black pants held up by an expensive belt that he had stolen from his father, a dark gray shirt with the first few buttons open showing his collarbones and the sleeves perfectly arranged at his elbows showing his tattooed arms.
"You look like a criminal"
“Who said I'm not?”
Itadori's intentions to plant some blame on his brother for abandoning them on a seemingly important night were noticeable for miles.
"At least have the decency to tell me where the hell you're going."
Sukuna took a while to respond, his eyes straying suspiciously and the trio could see a slight nervousness on his face. Wait, nerves? Sukuna? Those words were naturally contrary, it even seemed strange to put them together in one sentence. Here was definitely another shoe that was taking a while to drop.
"Mind your own business, don't be nosy"
Itadori instantly stood between his brother and the front door, blocking his way, he would get to the bottom of this matter at any cost.
"Are you planning something bad? Mom will be angry if you get into trouble again"
"Yes, yes, yes. I plan to do many bad and illegal things, in fact in this mood I plan to strangle the first person in front of me"
Itadori, Nobara, and Megumi looked at each other before leaving the hallway clear, letting Sukuna walk.
"Behave badly, take good care of yourself and if they discover you, deny everything"
“See you”
Once the so-called evil twin left the house, the hallway was completely silent for a few seconds.
“Don't you feel...? Curiosity?"
An excited Nobara looked at her friends with bright, gossip-hungry eyes.
"No not really"
Megumi's voice was ignored as Itadori pushed the Fushiguro boy's face away with his hand.
"I was hoping you'd ask, Nobara! In fact, my brother has been acting strange lately."
Itadori put on a thoughtful expression as he remembered his brother's unusual behavior in recent weeks.
"What do you mean he's been acting strange?"
At that moment Nobara had taken on a detective attitude, while the previously disinterested Megumi began to listen attentively to his friends.
“He's been coming home late, more than usual.”
“That doesn't seem strange for someone like him.”
An exalted Itadori raises his hands dramatically as he defends his argument.
“But when he is usually late it is always because he is causing problems in the streets and he is not at all careful with his arrival, now it is different!”
Sharing a room with Itadori, Sukuna didn't care how scandalous he could be when he showed up at home after curfew. He didn't pay attention to the fact that the noise of his shoes being thrown to any side of the room or that the sound of his swear words every time he tripped over something could disturb his brother's sleep.
Lately, however, the nights that Sukuna had spent late away from home had become more frequent, and Itadori couldn't help but notice even in the dead of night how messy his twin's clothes were every time he returned with silent footsteps and he also did not overlook the large number of marks that stood out on Sukuna's neck.
“Also, he has been trying hard in all his school subjects, he has turned in all his homework and sometimes he goes out to the library to study. Did you hear what I said? He goes to the library to study!”
“That's definitely not the Sukuna we know, something is happening to him.”
The three teenagers headed to the living room to sit down to discuss more calmly and solve that mystery.
“Do you think someone is bullying him?”
Itadori looked worried for a split second at Nobara's statement until Megumi gave him a strange, brief sarcastic smile.
“Are you serious right now? Do you think Sukuna, the most feared man on campus, could be bothered by someone? Jesus Christ even earned the nickname “The King of Curses”
They didn't need much time to agree with Megumi, it was impossible to imagine Sukuna being submissive to anyone.
“True, it would make more sense for him to be the one who bothered someone… It can't be possible”
“I told him clearly not to get into trouble, but he never listens to me!”
“Wait, Yuji, calm down. Don't you think that if that's the case, he's spending too much time on that person?”
Itadori seemed to think about it for a second and his face transformed into one of much more dramatic horror than before.
"So he really hates that person! Maybe he's planning a murder? Your brother isn't exactly known for being patient"
Nobara's words were the little push Itadori needed to panic.
"Sukuna definitely can't go to the correctional facility again!... Mom was very sad back then..."
Nobara and Megumi looked into each other's eyes, unable to abandon their friend in such a situation.
"Fine! Our mission today is to prevent your brother from becoming a criminal.”
"Are we allowed to use force? I still have to get revenge for the books I lent him."
The brown-haired girl, Kugisaki, was the first to stand up and was followed by Fushiguro. It seemed like a scene worthy of a movie, this was the motivational part because both friends extended their hands to the boy in tiger pajamas.
“Wait, wait, wait… What happened to your books?”
“I'll ask your brother when I see him.”
It had been approximately 30 minutes since the trio of friends had located and followed Sukuna, a difficult mission that had begun with the friends running after the older twin's car. The fatigue was overcome by surprise when seeing the target enter a flower shop.
“We're late, he's already planning the funeral!”
“Wait, give him the benefit of the doubt, maybe… Maybe he's going to visit a friend?”
“Impossible, my brother has no friends”
Nobara and Yuji's brief talk was interrupted when they saw Sukuna leaving that flower shop with a huge and pretty bouquet of yellow carnations.
"You see it? Maybe your brother is not as bad as he seems” Nobara's voice tried to be optimistic, and it also seemed strange to her that a man would buy flowers for no apparent reason.
“Now I'm quite confused” Itadori, for his part, narrowed his eyes, staring at Sukuna, trying to read his brother's mind.
Megumi spoke with a stiff voice drawing the attention of his friends.
"Don't be so surprised, in the language of flowers, carnations of that color mean contempt"
"Is he turning his assassination attempt into a performance? He's getting creative"
"Hey, he's leaving. Hurry up"
The gang quickly got into a taxi and like every chase scene, Itadori and Nobara yelled at the driver to follow the car in front of them, Megumi had to apologize to the driver at the end of the ride.
Sukuna drove his car until he reached the darkest and most dangerous neighborhood that anyone could imagine, clearly that place had an invisible sign indicating that it was better not to be there, there were few passers-by and the streets were cold with graffiti everywhere.
The older twin got out of his car after having entered the area a little, he walked as if that place was his territory, as if he felt at home, he adjusted the sleeves of his shirt, raising them to his elbows, with a bored look he observed the time on his watch and then leaned his back against the wall waiting patiently. Meanwhile, the trio had remained hidden behind a pile of boxes and seemingly useless objects, thinking about Ryomen's intentions.
"There isn't a soul in this place, what is he planning to do?"
Itadori's question was answered when Megumi held his jaw making him look to his right, his eyes widened as he saw a girl with a small frame, transmitting an aura of delicacy and fragility, she was the complete stereotype of a little princess wearing a pink dress and white sneakers, light makeup and a flower crown adorning her hair, she looked out of context walking with a smile and humming a song in that horrible alley.
"It can't be her... There's no way Sukuna..."
Nobara's words were cut off when the red-eyed man put out his cigarette and walked over to where the girl was with a proud smile on his face.
The fear that this small, fragile woman could be hurt by his violent brother made Itadori quickly get up from his hiding place and stand in front of his brother.
"Sukuna! Stop right there, don't do it!"
The sudden entrance of his nosy brother surprised Sukuna who maintained a displeased scowl at his twin's actions.
"What the fuck? Get out of the way brat, I'm on something important right now"
"Don't you dare take another step, don't do something you'll regret!"
Itadori's voice took a drastic change, sounding too threatening compared to his usual cheerful tone.
"What the hell are you talking about? Leave me alone, I don't have time for this."
Sukuna looked at the horrified girl who was just a few meters away from him, he pushed his brother away with one hand with the intention of walking towards where she was, however he was stopped and subdued on the ground by Megumi.
“Don't even try it, you disgusting scoundrel.”
“Leave me alone, you fucking bastards!”
While the three men argued and fought among themselves, Nobara also came out of her hiding place and walked towards the frightened woman, being careful not to exalt her even more, Kugisaki placed his hands on her shoulders trying to calm her down.
"Are you okay? “Did he do something to you?”
The girl's hands remained covering her mouth, completely surprised by the situation. She instantly left Nobara and ran quickly to where Sukuna was lying on the ground.
"What are you doing?! Get your hands off him!"
Megumi and Itadori's movements stopped, still holding Sukuna on the ground, they turned to look completely surprised at the owner of that little voice, their minds went blank as they watched her approach, she put her hands on Fushiguro's chest. making an attempt to push him away from the red-eyed twin.
"What are you doing to my boyfriend?! Leave him alone!"
Still bewildered, Itadori was the first to move away and placed a hand on his friend's shoulder for him to do the same, allowing Sukuna to stand up a little dazed.
"I don't know what 'Kuna did to you, but what you are doing is not right, it is not right to intimidate others, problems are solved by talking"
You stood in front of your boyfriend trying to be the one to defend him this time, you used to be a little shy when talking to strangers, but you weren't going to let your lover be the victim of such an unfair situation.
"Honey, calm down. They are—"
"No, love! They were very mean to you, no matter who they are!"
You knew that Sukuna had a special weakness for you that made him want to protect you from any danger, everyone told you that, obviously he would also want to take control of this situation in his hands. No, this time it was your turn to protect him, to be his knight in shining armor.
On the other hand, there were also the three idiots who had tried to play detective, watching the situation in astonishment.
"She... just called him love"
“Yes, she really did”
"I can't believe it"
Ryomen had tried to calm his girlfriend's little anger by taking her hands and caressing them, it worked for a few seconds until that trio spoke again.
Upon hearing the incredulous voices of those strangers, you let go of Sukuna's hands and walked a few steps close to those you thought were criminals.
"Listen, my parents are very important people, I will make sure you are punished appropriately"
Your acute and sweet angry voice was silenced by Sukuna's lips, one of his large hands finding a place on your waist while the other caressed your soft cheek.
"It's okay, princess"
"No, it's not okay-"
You tried to reply to his deep voice, you would be lying if you said it didn't make you shiver, his voice was only directed at you, only for you to hear, that made you calm down and also lowered the tone of your voice.
"Pretty, this is my stupid brother and his friends."
"...Impossible, it can't be…, they were subduing you"
"Don't worry, I'm sure they have a good explanation for doing all this, right?"
The affectionate look that Sukuna had given his supposed girlfriend had changed drastically when he turned to look at his friends, removed his touch from his beloved and walked towards the frightened trio, cracking the fingers of his fists.
"Last words?"
Approximately 10 minutes had passed after that disastrous encounter, Sukuna had considered himself generous that day so he decided to take his brother and his friends to the house where they should have stayed from the beginning, very kind, it had nothing to do with his girlfriend will look at those three idiots like abandoned puppies.
"How were we supposed to know you were visiting your girlfriend?"
"What kind of dates are you taking her on?"
"Yeah, you looked like you were about to commit a crime!"
Of course Itadori, Megumi and Nobara tested their patience throughout the car ride, complaining from the back seats and trying to alleviate the pain caused by the car owner's blows. Your curious little eyes turned to look at the trio with intrigue.
"Why do you say that?"
None of them knew how to answer your question, the answer was so obvious that they thought you were stupid or blind, of course none of them said that thought out loud, not when they felt Sukuna's psychopathic gaze in the rearview mirror. However, that didn't stop Yuji from continuing the conversation either.
"You were alone in that horrible and dangerous place, it is the perfect opportunity for a madman"
"Oh, that..."
Your calm reaction to that comment only confused them more, you were too sweet to be in those places and even worse to be there with Sukuna for no good reason.
"Her parents are renowned people and they do not agree with our relationship, that is why we must meet in the most discreet places possible"
"Sometimes dad hires people to watch me, so our meeting point for dates is that place."
The older twin's words left the dynamic trio thinking, especially Itadori and Nobara, Megumi didn't really care much, your complementation made them imagine a current version of Romeo and Juliet. The explanations of your strange relationship had clarified most of his doubts regarding the strange day.
"Wait, what about the flowers?"
Nobara's comment made all the attention focus on Ryomen who wrinkled his face in confusion until he remembered the detail that his friend was talking about at the same time that he stopped the car in front of his house.
"What flowers?"
"Oh right, I brought you something"
Sukuna got out of the car and went to the back taking something out of the trunk, a nice big bouquet of flowers appeared in front of you held by your handsome boyfriend.
"Oh, honey, you shouldn't have bothered."
"It's no bother when I can make you happy"
You received the beautiful flowers in your small hands, allowing yourself to smell them, such a fresh smell while you lovingly observed your loved one and he returned the same look, absorbed in that cloying atmosphere.
Of course that beautiful moment was not the most comfortable for everyone present, much less for Yuji Itadori imitating his twin with a shrill and annoying voice, since he had never seen his brother in that silly state.
"It's no bother when I can make you happy"
“I'm going to kick your ass”
Megumi couldn't stay silent for long either, because something kept echoing in her mind.
"But the meaning of flowers..."
"Excuse me?"
You looked at him with a smile so sweet and innocent that he hesitated for a second on his next words.
“Those flowers have a negative meaning…”
"It's funny you think my 'Kuna knows the meaning of flowers"
"We should have assumed that"
⋆·˚ ༘ *🔭 master list is here
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bunny-yan · 2 months
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Yandere Bully x male reader
non-con touching, heavy depicts of violence, mockery, depression, abuse, forced relationships.
Like this dude is VIOLENT. Makes fun of the reader for doing anything. Him ruining the reader has always been enough, finding new ways to hurt him each day. But when the reader comes to school with a bruise bully knows he didn’t make, he’s furious. Going full “you’re fucking mine, you understand?” And anyone who dares touch what’s his? Don’t live to see another day.
He is bully’s plaything. He owns him.
— he’d probably hurt him too just for letting someone else touch him
I think this would be a really nice introduction for a new yan! I'll definitely expand using some of these ideas later and I would've tried to include it in here, but it was getting a little long and I wanted to introduce how they met >.< i hope you like it! bully!yan x male reader TW: violence, non-con touching, mockery, slight depictions of depression, abuse, forced relationships, minors DNI
It was a new school. One that you’d been anxious about coming to since your parents transferred you in the middle of a semester, but it wasn’t the first time, so what possible complaints could you have? You should be used to it by now, right?
You didn’t want to think of the roaring headache you’d have if you tried explaining why it wasn’t fair to you to pick up and move whenever it was convenient for them without asking you how you felt about it, so you let it go. Clearly, your opinion had no weight in their decisions, but it would’ve been nice if they treated you as more than just another piece of luggage to drag around. 
Saying goodbye to your friends was difficult because although you’d only been here for a couple of months, you met some people you were able to connect to, which was strange considering your short time at this school. 
Promises to keep in touch were met with smiles and quick hugs before you went home to pack your life away. 
There wasn’t much. You knew by now that it was a hassle to bring anything that you couldn’t fit in a suitcase, and the looks they would give if you asked to bring along anything that would’ve forced them to give up space in the moving truck was something you preferred to avoid. You’d be placated, told they could simply buy you whatever you needed when you moved to the next place, and the couple of times you tried to fight for something you cared about, you received a lecture that lasted for hours about how you needed to learn to be grateful that they could afford to replace whatever it is that you were so desperate to keep and learn to be considerate considering they were moving for the benefit of the entire family. To make a long story short, you were to shut up and be ready to be shipped out without being such a fucking hassle. 
After being assigned to your new room in a house, you couldn’t bother to acknowledge it as any different from the last, even though it lacked any sign of familiarity or comfort; you ignored the order to get unpacked and slept, wondering if you would be able to catch up in the classes you’d be attending the next day. 
A quick shower was all you bothered in the morning, and putting on a reasonably comfortable outfit that made you look decent was good enough for your first day. You weren’t desperate to stand out. Everything would be perfect if you could just get through the day with minimal issues, going unnoticed by most, and avoid being called out for being a new kid. 
The day was off to a good start. The teachers didn’t seem particularly interested in acclimating you, which was fine, considering it would only draw more attention to you. It was a bit of a hassle trying to find what rooms your classes were supposed to be in, but you managed. You always seemed to. 
Looking at a paper that listed off your schedule, you tried not to make it too obvious that you had no idea where you were going in the sea of bodies, but right as you were going to look up to see if you were heading in the right direction, you crashed into someone else.
Your arms reached out to steady them before they were sent flying backward, and you froze when your hands landed on a guy's hips. 
Looking around, you noticed weird stares from guys who seemed to be friends with the guy you had crashed into, and when you finally looked at him, you froze at the unexpected curiosity in his eyes.
“You alright?” he asked, his voice bleeding with concern, but the expression on his face seemed irritated. 
Noticing that you were still holding onto his waist, you quickly released your hold on him before backing up. Scratching the back of your neck, you apologized. 
With a bright smile, he clapped you on the shoulder. Leaning in, he whispered, “Watch yourself next time.”
You were shocked at how hostile his voice sounded, but he and his friends had walked away before you could even think to respond. 
It was strange, but there was little chance you’d ever encounter that guy again. 
You thought back to that moment as you stared at him on the ground, hand covering a bloody nose. His eyes held that same curiosity you’d seen the first time you ran into him, but it was paired with amusement. 
You were shoved back as one of his friends came to his defense, girls calling you a violent psycho as they flocked to the guy who was now grimacing in pain. A sea of students crowded around to see what was going on, and as you were eventually led to the principal’s office, you knew your hope of having a quiet transfer was ruined. 
The principal didn’t hesitate to inform you that violence would not be permitted in his school. You would be required to write a 500-word essay that lamented your actions and would serve a couple of weeks in after-school detention. It didn’t escape your notice that he hadn’t bothered to ask why you acted the way you did. 
You couldn’t even be sure why you reacted so quickly. You wouldn’t consider yourself incredibly violent, and even if someone said something that upset you, you had a decent amount of self-control. Even in a heated argument, you could be expected to keep a cool head, but one sentence from him had you seeing red before fists were flying. You couldn’t even be sure what he said. All you remember is him approaching you in the cafeteria with that same easy-going smile he’d always seemed to wear before his words made you want to crawl out of your skin, and you were moving before you could stop yourself. 
The principal informed you that your parents would hear about the altercation that transpired on your first day, and you couldn’t help the huge sigh you let out as you thought of how utterly fucked you were. 
You didn’t expect your victim to be waiting in the empty hallway. You also did not expect him to approach you with a smile on his still handsome face despite the bruise forming on his nose before entering your space with no hesitation. He forced you to back up the closer he got, but he pulled you to a stop by hooking his fingers into your belt buckle before pulling you forward. 
Leaning to the side, he said, “I was beginning to get bored again. Thanks for alleviating that.” 
You shoved him away, skin crawling as you slapped a hand over your ear, but he only laughed before walking away. 
The rest of the day was a blur. 
You walked to your next class, aware that eyes seemed to follow you as you sat in your seat, not just because you were coming in the middle of a lesson. Whispers flew, and you could hear them discuss what had transpired in the cafeteria. 
It was a struggle not to put your head down. 
Met with similar reactions in two of your other classes, you tried to ignore the sinking feeling in your gut when you attempted to talk to one of your classmates about an assignment before you were ignored. 
It was awkward. 
They stood there, pretending they couldn’t hear you, and you were left wondering what you were supposed to do. Either double down and seem like an asshole for intimidating another student or drown in embarrassment at being treated like you were invisible. Considering you were already marked as someone with anger issues, the first option was out. 
You returned to your desk, trying not to feel too out of place doing a group assignment by yourself, and attempted to convince yourself that everything would be fine. 
Sitting through the lecture you received, listening to how disappointed your parents were that you were causing problems at your new school despite it being your first day, you didn’t bother defending yourself. There was no point. You just needed to finish the essay, attend detention, wait a couple of months, and this whole situation would blow over. 
Except it didn’t. 
The days turned into months, and even after spending the required time in detention, you found no one you could approach even after gaining that time back. Your classmates continued to ignore you, the teachers treated you like a problem student, and you found yourself utterly alone day after day. 
You’d thought maybe enough time hadn’t passed to put the incident behind you. You would just need to be diligent in your studies and make more of an effort to get to know your classmates. 
Even if they acted as if they couldn’t hear a word you said. 
Even if everyone refused to meet your eyes. 
Even if some of the other students looked at you with disgust. 
Even if that guy’s friends seemed to remind you that you punched him anytime you saw them, passed them, existed in their space for more than a couple of seconds. 
The victim seemed content to watch things play out, not stopping his friends, egging them on, or coming to your defense. 
He just watched. 
His eyes seemed to follow you in the cafeteria as you filled up your tray before going to eat at a lone table in the corner by yourself. 
You would force the utensil in your mouth despite the fact that you couldn’t taste anything and feel embarrassed shame and disgust at the self-pity that began to overwhelm you. 
You tried telling yourself it was fine; it was expected that you would eat alone, but it didn’t change the gaping emptiness you felt. 
You felt eyes on you as you walked from class to class, and at first, you looked for the person who seemed to be staring holes into you, but you couldn’t hold his pointed stare when you managed to make eye contact across the room or in a crowd. 
It was uncomfortable. Chilling, almost, the way his eyes seemed to want to dissect you. 
You tried to ignore it, to ignore him, this entire situation, but a presence sitting across from your new hiding spot in a secluded part of the library shattered that idea. 
When you looked up, you felt like a deer in headlights, looking at the amused expression on his face.
Standing up, you gathered your things to leave, but his hand caught your wrist before you could grab your bag and walk away. 
“Where are you going?”
It was a simple question, but reminded you there was nowhere to go. No place with eyes that didn’t judge you from far away and remained incapable of seeing you up close. 
“Let go.”
“Or what?” he taunted, gripping your hand tighter. “Will you hit me again?”
You grit your teeth, wanting to yank your hand out of his grip, resisting the urge to say yes. 
“You could. You could probably take me in a fight. But that won’t change the fact that you’ll continue to be a social pariah.”
You looked into his eyes, and he could tell it had caught your attention. His expression turned smug as he gestured towards the chair you were just sitting in. 
“Sit.”
“What do you want?” you asked him, voice on the verge of being desperate. 
“Sit down and let’s talk about it.”
A part of you wanted to resist. You hated the confidence that seemed to roll off of him in waves, looking at you as if he knew you would obey regardless of how much of a fight you put up. A part of you was almost able to convince yourself to walk away. But remembering those cold stares,  the disinterest, and the unsettling anxiety you felt each morning you woke up had you reluctantly sitting back in your chair. 
Amused, he leaned forward to rest his hands on his interlocked fingers. “Let’s be friends.”
He was insane. 
“I could try to improve other people’s opinions of you and get my friends to stop talking behind your back, but it would be a lot simpler if we were friends, right?”
You blinked, still not understanding what he stood to gain from all of this. 
“We act as if we let bygones be bygones, and your life as a loner will be over. Two birds with one stone!”
“What do you get out of this?”
The smile on his face was unsettling. “Let’s just say I want to be charitable.”
You didn’t like it. It didn’t seem like there was anything for you to lose, and you weren’t sure you could trust his reasoning behind suddenly reaching out to you, but you didn’t like the alternative. 
Waking up every morning was a struggle. You had to convince yourself to get out of bed, the most menial tasks taking so much time and energy out of you; it was a miracle you didn’t just cut classes to do anything else. 
But if you missed one day, it would turn into two. Two would turn into three, eventually turning into a week until you weren’t going to school at all. Your parents would be called when your absence was noticed, if it was noticed, or they’d figure out you were playing hooky in some way and you would be forced to listen to another lecture without any consideration towards the reason behind your behavior. 
Wouldn’t it just be better to take his offer? 
~~
It was strange how quickly others went along with his antics. With an arm casually resting around your shoulders, you went from being an invisible nobody to others looking on, jealous about how you got so close to this guy. It was no wonder you hadn’t gotten anybody to talk to you. The number of people who came up to speak with him within the first hour of school starting was insane, and the line of people attempting to get his attention was endless. 
He knew almost everyone in this school. Kind to even those who would be considered the stereotypical outcasts. Everyone wanted to be close to the golden boy, yet no one seemed to notice the disgust on his face after any of his interactions. No one commented that he’d wipe his hands if he touched someone else or brush invisible dirt off his shoulders if someone made the fortunate mistake of running into him. 
It made you sick to your stomach. 
“How does it feel being popular by association?” he asked, the usual winning smile on his face as he waved at someone who called out to him. 
“You’re an asshole.”
He shrugged, his smile only getting wider. “No one else seems to mind. Why are you complaining?” He tapped your shoulder, making you self-conscious about how freely he was touching you. 
“Do you have to sit so close?” you asked, attempting to put distance between the two of you, but his hand grabbed your shoulder before pulling you into his chest. 
“We have to sell that we’re friends. Lighten up,” he said, pinching the side of your cheek. 
It took everything in you not to punch him across the face. 
Again. 
“Yo, man!” One of his actual friends called out, making you feel self-conscious from the way he was glaring daggers into you before he looked over at his carefree “friend.” “What’s the deal with you and psycho suddenly hanging out?”
Psycho. You winced at the nickname he didn’t bother hiding. 
“Oh, him?” he said, grip locking around your neck before he pulled you in closer and ruffled your hair despite your aggravated protests. “He was just being shy. Don’t be too harsh with him.”
You grit your teeth to avoid pulling away from him. It was fucking embarrassing being treated like someone who couldn’t correctly socialize despite the justifiable reality of the situation. 
His friend laughed before inviting him to a bar later in the week. You couldn’t help the bitter smile as a pity invite was also extended to you. 
You got what you wanted. They didn’t ignore you anymore, but somehow, this felt worse than before. 
The eyes didn’t leave. They grew more hostile if anything, and you couldn’t help but want to escape when people would come up to you to talk about the only thing they were interested in. 
Him. 
He always seemed to know when you were speaking to someone, and like the devil, he appeared whenever his name was mentioned, throwing an arm around your shoulders and acting uncomfortably familiar as he elegantly cut off whatever conversation you were having to introduce you to new, random faces you couldn’t hope to remember. A part of you was grateful not to have to endure such an awkward exchange, but it was suspicious how he would always appear whenever you seemed to talk to anyone by yourself. 
It could be someone you’d never spoken to or one of his friends. It didn’t matter. In his presence, you were to exist as eye candy and nothing else.
You tried mentioning it, but he would simply laugh, slapping you on the back before making an excuse about not wanting you to ruin his flawless reputation. 
It was utter bullshit. 
He had everyone at this school eating out of his hands, including the teachers. The minute you said anything that could be mistaken to be pessimistic, they’d look at you as if you had grown another head, and he would be sure to be informed before you managed to get to where you were going. 
He didn’t want to discuss it further, becoming annoyingly clingy to shut you up, and it worked. 
You spent hours agonizing over what to say to gain some space from this guy. You’d watch him interact with his friends, and although he was close to each of them, he never seemed to stick to them like he did to you. It was to the point where you found yourself visibly relaxing whenever you weren’t around him, noticing the tension in your body caused by his presence. 
You told yourself that you just had to put up with it. You didn’t like it when his hand grabbed the back of your neck or the way his fingers fiddled with the sleeve of your shirt whenever his arm was draped around your shoulder, but it was for your benefit. People would see how close the two of you were and naturally want to get closer to you. You could put up with some unsettling feelings if it meant not returning to being alone. 
Until you couldn’t excuse it. 
His lips pressed to yours, and you froze. 
The two of you were alone in a classroom after school. He asked you to stay behind because he wanted to talk to you about something that he refused to mention throughout the day despite your prodding to get the conversation over with, and the minute the two of you were alone, he approached you, hands cupping your face before you could even think. Before you could even realize what he was doing. 
 There was a moment when fear gripped your body, rendering you unable to move, but the minute you felt his tongue prod against your lips, you shivered before shoving him away. 
“What?” he laughed, cocking his head at your horrified expression. The silence hung between the two of you, unable to process what had just happened into words. His eyes turned hard as he became impatient with your continued silence. “What’s your problem?”
“Why did you do that?” you finally choked out. It didn’t make sense. After everything he’d done, it made no sense.
“What? Kiss you?” An easy laugh escaped his lips as he came closer. “Why are you being so sensitive about a little kiss?” he asked, reaching for your face, but your hand smacked his away. 
You couldn’t read the expression on his face as he looked between your eyes, but the easygoing charmer disappeared as his jaw ticked and his eyes flooded with cold rage. 
There was nothing to say. A restless fear urged you to leave, so you brushed past his shoulder, unable to take another step when his hand caught your arm in an ironclad grip. The minute you tried to yank your arm away, you felt yourself being thrown to the ground, a weight on top of you. You saw him rear his arm back before his fist collided with your face, giving you no time to defend yourself against his first few blows. 
“Get off of me!” you said through gritted teeth, attempting to throw him, but he held firm, continuing to throw blow after blow. His punches only landed harder when you managed to lift your arms to shield your face. 
“You’re fucking nothing without me.” he seethed, “You want to go back to being a loser, sitting alone in the cafeteria with no one to talk to? I can make your life miserable.”
Fear drove the sense of urgency at his words. 
Shoving a fist into his side, you took the opportunity to sprint for the door when he hunched over in pain, ignoring his choked order for you to come back. 
What were you going to do?
What the hell were you supposed to do now?
Showing up to school wasn’t a choice, and you couldn’t avoid him either. You felt your vision tunnel as your choices seemed to dwindle the harder you searched for an escape. 
Everything he said was true. 
Your breathing turned shallow. 
He could make your life miserable. 
Why would he do that? Why would he do that?
Had you given any indication that you were interested in him like that? You knew he was clingy, but you didn’t think-
Oh, god. 
Was he going to tell everyone that you came onto him? You could imagine the disgusted stares his friends would give and it made you nauseous to think of the nicknames they’d coin. Suddenly, psycho didn’t seem that bad. 
Maybe it would’ve been better to remain alone. 
It was stupid to think that things would get better in the first place. 
You wanted to run until you didn’t have to think about the fact that you had school the following day. You wouldn’t have to wonder how their eyes would change when they looked at you. You wouldn’t have to struggle to get out of bed. 
You choked to get air out. 
It was going to be a struggle to get out of bed. 
If you told your parents you were sick they wouldn’t bother taking you to the doctor, but you would have to come up with a really good excuse as to why you couldn’t go to school. No matter what you said, there was a good chance it would be a waste of time talking to them anyway. They didn’t trust you to be home alone and it would be a hassle for either of them to take off work to watch you. 
You had to go to school. There was no choice but to go. 
When you managed to make it home, you ran up the stairs to your room. Crashing into bed, you threw the comforter over your head, begging the knots in your stomach to loosen, pleading for your muscles to relax just long enough to let you fall asleep.  You didn’t want to think about this anymore. It hurt. You didn’t want to think about what was going to happen tomorrow. 
You ignored the pain in your face, in your hands, in your body as you begged for anything to prevent the next day from arriving, and if that didn’t work, you thought it’d be better if you just didn’t wake up at all. 
But you did wake up. 
From the little sleep you had gotten, it was clear the day was off to a bad start, and the headache pounding in your skull was the cherry on top.
You stripped to take a shower, and you turned the faucet to the hottest setting, barely flinching as the steaming water hit your body. 
Minutes felt like hours as you ran through the possible scenarios of how to day would transpire. 
None of the endings were good. 
There didn’t seem to be enough time to walk to school, and you felt your heart pound painfully in your chest as you stood in front of the school’s double doors. Other students glanced your way when you remained, stuck in place in front of the entrance, and you only managed to move when someone bumped into you, muttering a quick apology before running to catch up with their friends. 
It was… relieving. 
You looked around, nervous to hear any whispers, see any judging eyes, but no one seemed particularly interested in you. Managing to make it to your locker, you finally let out a breath. 
"Look who finally decided to show up."
His voice made you tense, turning to see him and his usual group of friends. It was hard to meet his eyes. They were having a conversation, but you didn't hear anything, couldn't as you stared at his feet, knowing his eyes were drilling holes into you.
When your gaze finally stumbled up to his, you held your breath at the usual easy-going smile on his face, but his eyes told a different story.
Narrowed, you could feel the anger that seemed to roll off of him in waves.
Eyes snapped back to the ground, as you tried to find something to say. Anything that would get you out of this conversation he was trying to force you into.
“I’ll catch you later,” you decided on, eyes glued to the ground as you tried to not make it seem like you were running away. 
You felt eyes burning through your body, but you didn’t turn around. You didn’t go to your class or the cafeteria, you went straight to the little corner of the library, isolated from everyone else and comfortable. Safe. 
“Hey,” a chilling voice said. 
Until you weren’t. 
Your body was rigid as you regarded him. He found you so easily. 
“You seemed like you were in a rush back there. Are you good?”
It was mind-numbing. Watching him pretend as if nothing happened when you spent hours agonizing if you were even going to come to school. How could he smile as if nothing was wrong?
“What’s wrong?” he asked, studying your expression carefully. Walking closer, he cocked his head to the side when you took a step back. “Did I do something?” He didn’t hesitate to get into your space, frozen when you bumped into the table rendering you unable to retreat any further. “Why are you avoiding me?” 
It was hard not to think about what happened the day before. You couldn’t figure out why he made you so uncomfortable and now alarms were blaring in your head that you needed to leave. To go somewhere, anywhere you weren’t alone with him. 
“Back up,” you said through gritted teeth. 
“We’re friends, aren’t we?” he asked, a charming smile stretching across his face. “Why are you being so cold?”
His hand came up to brush against your cheek and the expression on his face turned hard the minute you swatted it away, unhesitant to shove his hand between your legs before he grabbed you harshly. 
You winced, flinching away as you tried to back up, grabbing his hand when the desk simply groaned against your pressing weight, attempting to force him to release his grip.
“You don’t want to be my friend? How do you feel about being my bitch instead?” 
You couldn’t focus on the words he spit in your face, gritting your teeth as you tried to escape this situation without experiencing too much pain. 
“Let go,” you said, voice bordering desperate when he squeezed harder in response to your resistance. 
He chuckled, leaning in closer before resting his head on your shoulder. “You really love telling me what to do.”
You were hot. It was too much. He was making your skin crawl. 
Gritting your teeth, you shoved at him, barely managing to hold back a grunt of pain as he was finally forced back. You barely managed to dodge his fist, choosing to slip past him instead of fight just in case someone in the library witnessed your altercation. No matter how great the desire to punch him square across the face, things would only get worse if you were labeled the aggressor. 
Barely making it two steps before his hand tangled in the hair above your nape. His hand jerked your head towards him and you felt your heart drop in your stomach when you saw the heavy gaze he had on your lips. A flash of disgust was all you managed to feel when he pulled you in, lips parting to kiss you before your fist collided with his face. 
Stumbling back, he let out a laugh as he held his nose, the blood undeniable. 
When his manic eyes met yours, that same fear had alarms going off once again. “You’re fucking mine, you hear me?”
The panic in your gut didn’t allow you to stick around to let him finish. You could only pray to god that he’d pass off his injuries as a mistake rather than use it as a way to isolate you once again. 
You could only think of how easy it would be for him to trap you alone if no one bothered to see.
You should’ve just stayed invisible.
513 notes · View notes
adelheidvonschicksal · 2 months
Note
I beg of you, your the only person who wrote such a good zayne story 😍 it makes everything tingle, can we get a story of us sucking him off PLEASEEEEEE
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⋆。°✩ PWP Smut, Banter, Oral (M-receiving), no pronouns. Please let me know if I missed something, and I'll fix it.
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Your nerves are on fire, each one a tiny beacon for arousal to run its rickety, lurching course through you. Overwhelmed, you bring your hands up and brace them against the headboard of the bed, clasping them into tight fists to calm the adrenaline rolling like waves through your veins.
It’s been too long since you felt this way, burdened with trembling limbs and stomach-knotting excitement, something that could only be accomplished when you have a certain surgeon between your gripping thighs. It’s been too long since you’ve seen Zayne, let alone have his hard, defined abs taut where you cradle his stomach.
He props his shoulders on dark blue satin pillows, his head in the perfect position for you to look at him. The unyielding gaze he holds does nothing to calm your heaving chest or aching nether regions as you take your time soaking and drinking him in.
Zayne has already changed so much since you last were with him. Your eyes are anchored to the widening of an already broad physique and the stretch and bulge of his biceps when he runs his hands down your back and over your ass to grip at the meat of your thighs. The golden glow of the nightstand lamp setting off against dark hazel eyes and battle-worn skin tempts you to squeeze his slowly fluctuating chest.
Before you can seal the deal on your spiraling dirty thoughts, Zayne catches your intentions, as if the position you were in didn’t already make it obvious. It’s a game that both amuses and frustrates you at the same time.
“It seems someone worked themselves up rather quickly.”
Lifting your sight from his chest, you meet a playfully mocking glint hidden behind a firm gaze. To keep your annoyance, or impatience rather, from showing, you set your attention on the intricate designs of the headboard.
“Just admiring the finish on the wood,” you excuse. “Lacquer?”
Zayne lifts a hand and pinches at your chin to force you to concentrate on him causing you to take your first shuttering breath that night. With piercing eyes, he searches for something in your face, so hauntingly that it makes you throb, and you silently hope he doesn’t feel your legs clamp harder at his waist or how much you're beginning to leak.
He doesn’t need it. As always, Zayne finds what he wants. His voice is inquisitive but the look in his eyes is teasing when he finally asks, “Are you sure that’s what it is? Your pupils are dilated, and I don’t think you’re one to really care about woodwork to that degree.”
You huff at his observation, always the smart-mouthed one. Could he blame you for being hot and bothered when you have an undeniably attractive man under you, especially when you haven't been able to touch him in weeks? It’s so hard with your schedules. Even now, it’s thanks to an unexpected sick day that your schedules managed to align. So, yeah, maybe you were more worked up than usual, but Zayne was a lot of things, stern, serious, reservedly kind, and very much aware of his commanding good looks and the effect it has on you.
Luckily, you’re not the only one who is having trouble maintaining a calm visage. His face holds a barely recognizable flush, his chest strains with too-deep breaths, and his large, scarred hands squeeze the back of your legs to an almost painful point before he swipes your tender skin with manicured thumbs.
It doesn’t take a genius to see that the tepid atmosphere is growing too tense for both of you. Who admits to it first is anyone’s guess, but it’s not likely to be Zayne without some encouragement.
So, you prance your fingertips across his angular jaw before drawing a seductive line from the point of his chin through the center of his pectorals, a line you plan to use to start your reacquaintance with his body very soon. The sticky heat radiates from him and seeps into you, knotting the aching twists in your lower stomach even tighter.
“You’re one to talk,” you remark, displaying your own mischievous thoughts. Your hand finds a place to roost over his left side and sprawls open over his heartbeat, reading the steadily rising pace. “I can hear you breathing from here, and your skin is so hot and sweaty.”
For someone whom others wrongfully describe as cold, something about him is smoldering when he rakes his eyes over your body. It’s hungry, and you’re so ready to devour and be devoured, as he forces himself to meet your face again.
“It’s the fever.”
Holding in your laughter, you smack your lips at him. “Didn’t you say you were feeling better today? You didn’t lie to me, did you, Zayne?”
The man doesn’t respond, usually a sign that he was thinking but the only thing on his mind was your hand running orbits around his nipple, outlining the smooth round expanse circling it. You grope lightly at his chest, marveling how full it makes your hand, before cascading that touch lower and lower.
The girth of his cock twitches against your ass, and you think you almost got him as he begins to ripple under your exploration; alas, he manages to keep in his sighs until you start to comb through the delicate valley of shallow black hair that curls from his lower stomach and disappears under his sweatpants.
“I knew you would blow it out of proportion otherwise,” he plays off, releasing another low groan. “It didn’t seem to stop you from marching right over, however.”
“Oh?”
Pitifully pouting, you roll onto your side next to him, press your chest into his arm, and lean in to kiss under his ear.
“You don’t like me taking care of you?” you whine with a pathetic infliction and a whimper, all the while adding pressure as you begin to massage his groin over his briefs, close enough he can feel the sensitive flesh right above the base of his cock imprinting with your touch but not quite where he wants it or how he wants it. “That’s so mean.”
Playfully, you blow against his ear, and there’s the smallest shudder that makes your heart pound hard. There’s nothing like seeing him slowly give in, trying to act in control when his cock readily jumps and stiffens as if to reach your hand. The reaction encourages you to shuffle your hand under his briefs in a few ticklish swipes only to be met with disappointment when his voice catches, hiding a guttural sound you could only curse him for not letting you hear when you wrap your fingers around his cock.
It frustrates you how he won’t even give you an inch of nonresistance, but his cock pulses at your touch, and you smile to yourself at how he couldn’t hide the eager hard-on that you were quickly encouraging with only a few twists and pets.
“When you forced me to let you take care of me,” he begins, pausing only to hiss softly when your fist tightens, which causes the warm slick of precum to seep into his pants and a brief fluttering of his eyes before he recollects himself. “I assumed that meant you’d make a wreck of my kitchen like last time.”
Slowly, you slide your calf over the top of his knee.
“My soup made you better though.”
Zayne groans as you pull him free from his clothing, holding onto his cock as it springs from too-tight confines. Your thumb follows the thick pulsing vein running up the side of his cock before tracing his dripping slit. His head slides back against the pillow, tilting back as he quietly gulps, and his thick throat stretches with the swallow.
“At the cost of my best pot.”
“A win's a win,” you mumble against the crux of his neck, which turns into a sigh when his arm makes space to slide under you, wrap around your upper hip, and squeeze at your ass.
“Now, I see you only had one thing in mind when you came over, after all.”
“That’s not it,” you mewl, squirming when he pinches your cheek harder.
“Are you saying you didn’t come over to take advantage when you have me like this?” he asks.
“You make it sound so calculated!” You shake your head. “I just know this will fix you up in no time. Besides, I missed you.”
There’s a short and irritatingly self-satisfied chuckle from him that makes your chest vibrate with the makings of a moan as his deepening voice rumbles in your ears. “I’m in your capable hands then,” he finally relents, not that you expected any other outcome, and you make your move to flip on top of him again.
There’s a snap somewhere finally releasing any inhibitions when your lips meet. It’s passionate, filled with every desire that’s been burning in him since he’s seen you. Zayne can be gentle, but he can also be bruising. Sometimes he’s a mix of both like when his tongue glides on top of yours and his teeth graze against your bottom lip during the short moments you break for air before capturing each other’s taste again.
You moan into his mouth when he cups the back of your neck and pulls you closer, deepening the kiss to the point you're becoming dizzy. It takes some strength to break free from the passion of it all, but you want more of him, and you’re not willing to wait anymore. So, you pull away and allow your mouth to collide against his collar before he has time to capture you again. Zayne’s eyes glower, half-lidded as he watches every pucker of your lips and every kiss and bite on his body.
Zayne slides a palm up the small of your back, the other going to rub the crux of your thigh, dipping inward to stroke at the yielding flesh right at your center. You moan against him, doing your best not to start dry humping him like you’re in heat whenever his cock pulse against your lower belly, but the scent wafting from him was becoming too much. So, you quickly begin to make your way to the promised land, trailing kisses along the way.
“I missed you,” you puff out softly before wading your tongue across his nipple then under his chest and to his stomach. Releasing his cock, you slide your hands down his sides, making sure to keep them aligned with the movement of your kisses. “You don’t know how much.”
Zayne brushes his fingers along your hand, following down your arm before gently cupping the side of your face, his thumb gliding over your cheek in a tender return of your sentiment as his once proud demeanor in his eyes softens with the smallest of glances from you.
“Is it more than I’ve missed you?” he whispers, and when you nod, he smiles. “I don’t think that’s possible.” Seeing you like this, so beautiful, all his, is a luxury. “I never tire of seeing you.”
Feeling a rush of shyness overtake you, you muffle the small sigh of his name against his stomach. Butterflies filling your stomach, you slide further down and kneel, your knees digging into the end of the bed as you sit back on them, your ass in the air as you hover your face over his lap. He’s so big that you’re never entirely sure where to start. You could go for where he’s most sensitive or—
“You can always use your hands instead if you don't think you can fit it all in your mouth,” he instructs half-jokingly, causing you to grow flustered at your overthinking.
“This isn’t the first time, I know how—” You clamp your mouth shut when you remember the first time you tried, something you’re sure he wouldn’t let you forget. “Don’t,” you order before sliding your tongue over his tip to clean away the pre-cum.
Your tongue laps along his glans as you slowly take his head into your mouth. It’s only when you finally get to work, sliding your mouth halfway down then back up that he finally stops his teasing and lets you have your way with him.
There’s an audible sound of relaxation when you squeeze his base with your palm and purse your lips around him. There’s a certain pride that comes with knowing you’re the only one who can see him like this, with his shoulders lax, eyes closing in bliss, and jaw slightly slacked as he groans. It’s not an easy sight to imagine on someone as stern as Zayne but the look of arousal was also something that seemed like it was made for him, which only causes your legs to squirm with need when it evolves into a low grumble from his chest.
You push it a little further to turn it into a growl by relaxing your throat and allowing it to press against the back, pulling back up and slurping the sheen of saliva clean from him before lapping your tongue over the tip. When you repeat the process, his hips twitch and buck, causing you to whimper when you feel more liquid scalding down your throat.
With a quick reposition to sit up more and force you closer, he presses both hands to cup at your cheeks, lifting your head partway up as he lightly strokes your cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. Briefly, you look at him, heart fluttering a bit at the flush dusting the bridge of his nose and the wetness of his parted lips.
“You’re so good,” he breathes out, a chilly flow emanating from him, “so good for me.”
Blinking away the water in your eyes, you moan around him, the vibrations rolling down his heated flesh as you suck your cheeks around him as he holds your face. One hand goes to the back of your head, and you bob once again with the encouragement of his hand pressing down on your head.
“Fuck,” he hisses out when you pop him out your mouth and brush your lips down the side of his shaft. You pepper it in kitten kisses before nipping lightly. You squeeze around his tip, making it your mission to keep your thumb grinding his slit and blushing head while you cup and suck his balls.
When you feel them strain and tense, not once but twice in your mouth you have enough warning to know he’s about to cum. It’s with one last stroke of his shaft and one last quick suck around his head that he paints your mouth white, the excess seeping from your mouth and flooding over his length.
You take your time cleaning your mess, like you promised. It’s with slow, deliberate movements as you allow him to ride out his much too quickly fading high, the last throbbing spilling the last drops of his finish on your lips. You release him with a pop and a sigh.
“How messy,” he quietly remarks, causing you to tense as his thumb ghosts over your lips. “You missed a spot,” he explains and slides the finger into your mouth for you to readily close around. He wipes it clean against your tongue before sealing your mouth with a kiss. He slides his finger free from your kiss, and you can feel the lingering wetness of your saliva against your face when he holds you in place to kiss you more passionately.
His strength starts to become too much when he grips your shoulders, pushes you towards the bed, and pins you on your back.
Breaking the kiss and pushing against his arms, you puff out, “Wait, I’m supposed to be in charge today.”
“Sorry to change your plans, but I don’t think I can hold back anymore,” he explains with a growing smile that makes shivers climb up your spine from the sheer hunger in it. “Allow me to show you how much I missed you as well.”
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violetrainbow412-blog · 11 months
Text
Exchanged clothes [S. R] Bolinus brandaris part. 2
Spencer Reid x fem!reader
word count: 4.6k
part 1
summary: a small act of kindness leads to a rather peculiar confession
A/N: Okaay, some people showed interest in a sequel to this and I thought I'd do it, I hope you like it enough. Oh and we are still with baby Spencer, later I will write about the second and third seasons (and as I progress in the series, lol)
taglist: @the-ginger-draws @skievers @c-m-stuff
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The days passed, the cases continued, and the level of trust in the friendship between you and Reid only grew. Working at The Behavioral Analysis Unit was complicated and exhausting in many ways, which sometimes made you wonder how he managed to put up with all that, because, although you weren’t an old woman, you did have two years more experience compared to him. It's also not like it was your fault that he was a genius and he went to work for the FBI at an extraordinary age. So every time something happened, you were there for him and he was there for you. The whole team really cared about the two of you (and JJ, the third youngest) while still trusting in your abilities to face challenges. And just like in a family, everyone could also notice the existing tension between you and the doctor, because although, at least on your part, the feelings had been there for a long time, they had become more obvious to the rest since of the trip to Miami.
"Good morning" you had greeted part of the team that day, a few weeks after the trip, more energetic than the others would have expected. Neither Hotch nor Gideon were around, for obvious reasons, so it was only when you passed Reid's desk that you stopped, running your hand affectionately through his hair “Hey, Doc.”
"Hello," he responded immediately. Spencer didn't like it when his hair got messy, but he could take it if it was you, just as he could take your constant hugs or the drawings you sometimes made on his hand when you were bored during meetings. Of everything that happened between you, little managed to bother him, almost as if the interactions he avoided with others were something natural with you around.
Although he had stopped wearing his scarf daily, he still wore it at least once a week as a reminder of how special it was to him, and fortunately that day was the chosen one.
“Do we have a case? Or do I just bury my nose in these reports?” you muttered to the others, but they denied "What of that do you say no to?"
"Today they will be documents" JJ spoke kindly.
"Why do I have so many?"
“Because I passed you some of mine,” Morgan sneered and you gasped, completely offended. You whispered something accusatory in his direction that made Spencer laugh from the next desk, and then he reached over to take just under half the folders.
"I will help you"
"Oh no, no, Reid. It's okay,” you said, your voice softening noticeably, as you placed your hands over his to try to stop him.
"It's nothing, I'll finish them in a jiffy"
"Why don't you ever offer to help me, huh?"
“You manage pretty well on your own,” Spencer teased at your friend, now making you laugh. You still had your hands on his under the excuse of collecting your reports and, perhaps unconsciously, both of you postponed the moment for another few seconds, looking into your eyes with a small smile until he finally managed to keep the material that he had stolen from your desk.
"Thank you," you said, so softly that only he could hear you.
Looking at your coworker had already become something of an obsession. You liked his gestures, how he looked away when he spoke, his nervous ramblings, and the straight hair that he apparently was letting grow, but what you liked the most were his hands. When he was explaining a profile, he always communicated a lot with his body language and honestly, the swaying of his hands, combined with the tranquility in his tone of voice, was very hypnotic to you, as if keeping the attention of others was something inescapable for him, although it was probably easier to keep your attention specifically. Right now, while everyone was minding their own business, you were watching sideways as he ran his middle finger over the printed lines. It made you nervous to see the delicacy with which he moved across the sheet of paper and inevitably your mind traveled to inappropriate corners related to that movement, which embarrassed you to the point of blushing. Thank heavens he was too focused to notice you, so you forced yourself to work on the few reports Reid had let you keep.
The days were very rare when no cases appeared, but you were grateful that they existed because sometimes it was necessary to take a breather. Seeing so many bodies, so much blood and so much inhumanity was something you never quite got used to, although having good teammates in your unit made it more bearable. So that night nothing stopped you from finishing right on time, with a little back pain from sitting all day, but also quite calm.
"I'll see you tomorrow, rest"
"Are you going to your apartment?" Spencer asked, rushing towards you with his coat in hand and the briefcase slung over his shoulder, and you nodded Can you wait for me to go together?”
You looked at him, more confused than you wanted, but you said yes. It's not that you were upset or that you didn't want company, but that you were curious as to why he might have offered to do it.
"Thanks again, for earlier," you said, once both of you were outside. You lived a few streets from the office and you could get there in less than 20 minutes by taking a subway station, which fortunately was the same one he took.
“Okay, they were too many for you. I mean, it's not that I think you can't do the job, you're very capable, it's just that I thought it was too much workload for just you and I… well, I could help you so I did it” with that Reid held up a hand to downplay the matter and smiled at you.
“Why have we never thought about walking to the subway together?”
"I don't know either," he said. You felt a gust of wind hit the both of you so you hugged yourself to try and get some warmth and even though Spencer wasn't the best at reading social cues he managed to figure out what you had and what he needed to do 
“Here” he murmured, as he spread the coat and put it on your shoulders.
“Oh no, no, no, Reid. I'm fine"
"In fact, if you don't use it you can catch a cold and although there are very few cases in which there are complications that lead to death, the symptoms last about a week and you can infect several people during the first days, so you not only you would be taking care of yourself but also the rest of the team” he informed you. That made you smile, and you found that behind all his scientific mumbo jumbo, he was trying to take care of you.
"It's a little big on me," you laughed, reaching into the sleeves with some help from him.
“You look pretty” he blurted out from his lips, completely entranced by you “Well, the… the coat. It looks good” he tried to fix, but you laughed at the compliment that you definitely wouldn't pass up.
"Aren't you cold?"
“No, my shirt and vest help,” Spencer replied, showing you the long sleeve of her white shirt. “I also have my scarf, did you forget it?”
"The best choice in all your outfits" you joked, reaching out a hand to feel the soft fabric of the garment and looking at him, with that cute shy smile "What will you do when you get to your apartment?"
“Huh, probably get some sleep. I haven't been resting properly in the past few days."
"Nightmares again?" you sadly asked. Spencer had talked to you superficially about it a few days ago, although you thought that he had suffered from this disease for much longer than he wanted to admit. He didn't answer verbally, he just nodded his head and you thought he didn't want to delve into it “I think I'll spend a while in the bathtub and then I'll sleep. I'm exhausted"
“You close doors and windows before you sleep, right?”
"I do," you assured him.
“Do you also take your cell phone with you to call in case of emergencies?”
"Huh, yeah"
"Good. Take care of yourself” he insisted. Those didn't sound like random recommendations and that puzzled you a bit.
"I do, Reid," you replied softly. When you noticed that the concern in his features did not leave him, you thought it would be prudent to ask him why that was "Are you worried about something?"
"No, it's not that" he hastened to answer. You still had a few blocks to go to get to the subway and only a few passers-by walked the streets, besides you.
“Are they unsub then? Anything in particular that worries you?"
"It's nothing like that. It's just…” he gasped, still unsure to continue, “if I tell you, you'll think it's silly”
"Of course not. Tell me, what is it?" you asked. He was internally debating if he should tell you what he was thinking and he was convinced a little when he felt your hand on his arm, as if prompting him to speak.
“Yesterday I…” he started to say “I had a nightmare. I dreamed when I arrived at the office I found out that something bad had happened to you. And… I don't know, it felt very real and I couldn't get it out of my head” he admitted. You understood that perhaps it was the reason he had wanted to accompany you, as if he feared that someone might stalk you on the way.
“Spence” you murmured gently, as you pulled him a little in your direction to place one hand on his bicep and the other on his forearm “Don't worry, nothing's going to happen to me. My apartment complex has a good security system and I always carry my gun, if something happens on the street, I will know how to deal with it. They're just bad dreams, I have them sometimes too” you said to reassure him. You felt quite comfortable walking in that position and you continued a couple of steps holding him like this, looking for some negative sign from him, but it never came. With the closeness he managed to feel a little less fear, reminding himself that what tormented him were fantasies of his own mind, that if they were analyzed with a little more detail they were an unconscious reflection of how much he feared losing you.
"I told you it would be silly"
"It is not. It's quite sweet, actually,” you smiled, moving your thumb up and down as you smiled at him. In that position your face was at the height of the boy's shoulder and it was enough for him to turn his head to reach your forehead, so he wondered how much you would bother if he left you a kiss there. He wanted to, but held back.
“I just thought I should tell you. For you to be careful"
“Same to you, Reid. You have a rather peculiar ability to get into trouble” you exclaimed accusingly, because in a couple of cases the man had already managed to get on your nerves.
The position turned out to be cozier than you expected and you continued walking the rest of the streets towards the subway in silence. He concentrated on the feeling of your body so close to him and your hands gently holding him, while you lost yourself in thought wondering what you really felt about your coworker and what he felt for you. Spencer would look at you from time to time, analyzing your gestures and enjoying the sight of you wearing his clothes, something he didn't think would affect him the way he did.
“Did you know that railway suicides have a very small percentage in the country's suicide rate?” he told you, while the two of you looked at the subway tracks that you were waiting for. You had had to distance yourself to be able to pay the pennies for the ticket and you had decided to place your hands in the pockets of your borrowed coat, caressing the lining fabric with your fingers.
"I had no idea" you muttered. You were a little surprised that he always had an interesting fact about literally anywhere you were and you loved hearing him tell you “It must be horrible. And very sad"
"Even the government allocates certain resources to pay for psychological therapy for drivers who witness these suicides"
"Well, at least it comforts me to know that part of my taxes ends there," you joked bitterly and the train stopped just as you finished saying it. Reid let you first into the nearly empty car that would take you home, and along the way you continued to talk about less unfortunate things, like the dinner choices you were planning or the TV shows that were likely to be airing when you arrived.
Having those little quiet moments with him made you feel lucky and the laughs he managed to get filled your chest with joy, making you completely forget everything related to work. The voice in the wagon warned that your stop was next and an anticipated sadness invaded you.
“Be…”
"Be careful, I know" you smiled. Since you were already on your feet, so as not to miss your stop, you crouched down to give him a quick goodbye hug “See you tomorrow. Try to sleep and if you have nightmares you can call me, okay?" you muttered. He nodded from his place as he watched you leave towards the platform and leaned out the window to see your figure disappear into the distance.
Neither of you two realized that you had kept his coat until you got home.
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As of that night, that coat returned to see the doctor's closet on very few occasions and the purple scarf went on to have joint custody. He had found out that if he loved anything more than wearing the clothes you gave him, it was seeing you wearing them, causing him to come up with totally pathetic excuses to accomplish that. 
"It's a bit cold" "Purple matches your clothes" or simply "keep it, it looks better on you than on me"
It soon became a habit. During the cases, when you two were apart, it was a little comforting to have something of him with you and when he came home, he would enjoy breathing in the smell of your perfume impregnated on the fabric.
After a few weeks you realized that, without a doubt, you were so in love with him. And when he realized the same thing, he was completely terrified.
“Reid” you greeted him one morning, catching up with him as he poured himself a coffee and analyzed a piece of bread that had surely been sitting there since the day before. Hugs when seeing him had also become a habit, quite nice from the man’s point of view "I have something for you"
"Again?"
"Oh yeah," you smiled. Lately you had been filling him with small gifts and most of them quite rare, but which he kept suspiciously in his desk drawer. And it's not that he didn't appreciate it, but that he was beginning to feel guilty for receiving so many and not having given you any yet. "Give me your keys," you asked and he obeyed without even questioning you. Once you had them in your hand, you took a strip of colored beads from your pocket that you added as a key ring, while he looked at you with some confusion.
"What's that?"
“My friend asked me to babysit her daughter this weekend and we went crazy with crafts. So I thought I'd do this to you” you muttered. He took a closer look at the keyring and noted that you had included his favorite colors, purple and green, as well as a heart-shaped bead at the end. "I know it looks like a preschool kid's creation and if you're embarrassed to wear it you can throw it away”
"No, I like it. It's pretty,” he smiled, running his long fingers over the beads. Satisfied with the answer, you took out your own keys and proudly showed them to him.
"I have one just like it," you said happily. That was true, only yours was made of pink and blue, and the way you said it completely touched the man.
"You make me think that there is still goodness in this world, you know?" he exclaimed, so sincere and without thinking that he surprised you "I loved it, thank you very much"
"Now that I think about it, it's like one of those friendship bracelets you make at summer camp”
“I never went to a summer camp”
"I don't know why I'm not surprised" you laughed and would have continued the conversation if it hadn't been for Hotch's interruption.
“We've got a case. Conference room in 5”
Sometimes you forgot that the real reason you were there was the criminal profiles and not seeing Spencer Reid every day.
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You just woke up one morning and knew you had to tell Spencer how you felt about him. As you said before, Spencer seemed to have a special magnet for trouble and proof of this were the cases in which he had to perform dangerous tasks that you knew no one else could do. When he had to get on that train with Ted Bryar you'd gone crazy and last week when he'd watched that cult boy on Massanutten Mountain threaten Reid with a gun you decided you'd had enough.
He had expressed concern for your well-being on multiple occasions, but what about his? Didn't you have the right to care about him just as much? every time he came back you wanted to throw yourself into his arms and whisper in his ear if he was okay, to maybe leave a kiss or two on his cheeks. But every time he came back you just cheered with the rest of the team and barely had contact with him beyond a squeeze on the shoulder and a sincere: I'm glad you're okay.
So you thought that if you wanted to have that kind of privilege over others the only alternative was to profess your love to him in the hope that he would feel the same way and you could work something out.
Spencer, for his own part, also had his epiphany and as much as he tried to avoid it he ended up asking Morgan for advice, who was the only person he thought would be suitable to talk about this kind of subject. Surprisingly, Derek behaved discreetly and really gave the doctor valuable elements to understand one of the few sciences in which science was almost obsolete: love.
Going back to recently acquired habits, walking together to the subway was another one of them. Sometimes this was interrupted because he or you stayed longer than the other, but except for those cases it was a regular activity.
So that night, when you two were walking to the station, your mind was immersed in remembering the speech with which you planned to tell your friend.
"You're very quiet today," Reid observed, taking you by surprise. In a few months he had already learned very well some traits that indicated that something was wrong with you.
“Sorry, I… I have a few things on my mind,” you apologized, but Spencer didn't know what to say because he also had his own things on his mind. He was desperately searching for a way to put into words what he felt, but he kept wondering, could that be explained? All attempts at reasoning became useless with you near him, maybe that's why he couldn't think of how to tell you "Reid, I don't think I've ever asked you, but have you ever had a partner?"
"Like… couple?" he asked, trying to make sure you were referring to the same thing he thought.
“I know it sounds weird, but it just… made me curious,” you exclaimed, shrugging and then crossing your arms in an attempt to comfort yourself. Reid fondly watched how your arms were on that purple scarf and felt a little motivated to speak.
“Huh, in that case, yes, something like that. I dated two people when I was in school, but it wasn't anything serious, just a few kisses” he explained to you and you failed to contain your laughter, maybe because of the way he had explained it. Spencer blushed to his ears and smiled reflexively at your smile. "Don't tease!"
"I don't" you defended yourself. Another person walked down the sidewalk and he reached out his arm to move you protectively in front of him, so when you came back to his side you took advantage of the distance between you, to the point where your shoulder brushed against his arm.
"And you?" he asked after a while of silence "Have you had many boyfriends?"
"The truth? not so many. With most of them I lost interest after the first date and the others left me when they found out I was in the academy. Apparently armed women aren't very attractive” you smiled. You had asked about his romantic history, and incidentally talked a bit about yours, only to open the topic and somehow feel that your confession would not be so out of place.
“There are studies that indicate that women take longer to fall in love than men, perhaps that is why you lost interest quickly. For you it takes about 6 or 8 dates to decide if you want something with a person, because you are more selective and better analyze personality traits in men. But they only care that the girls are… well, pretty” he murmured, with a smirk “On average it takes women 134 days to fall in love while men only 88”
“How long have you and I known each other?”
"It must be like... a year and a half now" he exclaimed, mentally doing the math "Why?" he continued legitimately confused. For the genius that he was, Reid was naive at times.
You looked down at him and for a second thought that even with those bags under his eyes and the stubble he hadn't shaved, Spencer was the most handsome man you'd ever met. Not receiving an answer, he looked at you and was surprised to see the sparkle in your eyes.
"Okay, can we stop here for a moment?" you asked. You knew you were probably going to chicken out if you didn't say it right then, even if that closed beauty salon you were standing in front of was an unromantic place. "I need to tell you something”
You had said it with determination, but once you were face to face, your mind went blank. You panicked: how were you going to tell him? What was the right thing to say? What reaction did you expect?
But Spencer, noticing the silence, decided to be the first to speak.
“Noradrenaline is a neurotransmitter that produces excitement and effusivity, increases heartbeat, blood pressure, causing sweating of hands and flushing. High dopamine levels generate a need to be with the person that releases it and is related to serotonin, which generates well-being, optimism, social closeness, and reduces discomfort and anger. Phenylethylamine makes everything more intense, makes us feel more motivated and optimistic and finally, oxytocin is the love hormone par excellence, it occurs when we have a bond of trust with people or when we feel a strong attraction. Sometimes it is also released when we embrace the reason for our affection” he had said that so hastily and waving his hands, that he could only show how nervous he was. He inhaled to catch his lost breath, then finally made eye contact with you, taking a moment before continuing, “What I'm trying to say is…you make me feel all of that. You alter my chemistry in ways I've never thought of and… and I… go all goofy and don't know what to say…”
"Spencer" you interrupted him "You mean you like me?" you asked gently, because you knew that when he started to wander sometimes you needed to bring him back down to earth. Reid looked at you tight-lipped and nodded slowly.
You were silent for a second, trying to process what he had just told you, and he got even more nervous than he was.
“But I think that after all this what I care to know is… if you feel the same way. Or in the worst case, if you think you might feel something like this”
“A total chemical mess for you?” you exclaimed amused. One of your hands went to his and you gently held it, taking a step closer to him. “I'm sorry, Reid. I feel it every time I look at you, that you hug me, every time I give you those silly gifts and see the smile on your face. Everything in you causes me that"
"Are you serious?" he asked, wanting to be completely sure what he was hearing. You laughed and wrapped your free arm around his neck, pulling him into a hug.
“Of course I do. Before you said all that I was racking my brain trying to find a way to tell you how I felt."
“Did you know that this is a phenomenon? There are those who call it the tuning fork effect, which is when two people connect the same idea at the same time, almost as if they had been thinking at the same frequency.”
You chuckled and buried your head in his neck, letting go of his hand so you could hug him properly. He wrapped both arms around your waist and buried his head in your hair, willing to say nothing more for fear of ruining the moment. All the fears you had had were being buried with that contact, because now you had the certainty that what you felt was mutual.
You stayed like that for what felt like hours, just listening to the gentle beating of his heart and enjoying the sense of security that being in the man's arms made you feel.
"I really like you" you broke the silence, with a whisper, making him smile.
"I think the most logical step from here would be to ask you out on a date, no?" he muttered. You pulled away enough to look at him, but still leaving your arms around his shoulders.
“I don't want to have to wait. Let's go for a burger"
"Don't you prefer somewhere more... formal?"
"Leave formal places for proposals, handsome," you said in a playful voice, caressing his cheeks with your extended palm and he made a mental note that this Italian restaurant he was thinking of inviting you to would be the ideal place to ask you to take the next step, when the time was right. 
“I still have to take you on at least 6 dates, to be sure”
"Fuck the statistics, I don't need that burger to know I'm in love with you," you said and he grinned from ear to ear.
“I know a place with an excellent health label and organic food, it is a few streets from here”
"I follow you" you answered cheerfully "On one condition"
"Which?"
"Let me hold your hand," you asked softly and Reid wasted no time in fulfilling your wish, leading you to the restaurant that way.
And at the end of the night, when you stole a kiss from him, he couldn't have felt luckier.
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dr3c0mix · 1 year
Note
Hi, I just started reading your works and they are fantastic! I saw on your request page that you do teratophilia, but I don't fully know if you do orc, so I wanted to know before I sent in a proper request. If you don't do orc I'll probably request something with a minotaur instead.
Little Duckling
Yandere!Orc x Gn Reader
cw: nsfw, kidnapping, stalking
⚔️ Valeth was a warrior, a dangerous, bloodthirsty orc. One who had the blood of hundreds in his hands. A scar-ridden man whose company consisted of the vile and ruthless, thieves and murderers.
⚔️ So why the hell were you in here??
⚔️ You looked so small, so weak. A tiny creature possibly from a far land from the look of your wide-eyed, innocent face.
⚔️ He stared at you from across the tavern as you happily scribbled on a notebook with a small glass of some sweet drink you ordered.
⚔️ He could hear the laughs and jeers of the other patrons, some giving you less than decent stares at your body, it made him sick.
⚔️ But why? Why is he suddenly so protective of a tiny, weak, small, soft, cute, adorable, fragile doll of a person like you?
⚔️ ...
⚔️ Shit...
⚔️ He pinches the bridge of his nose and gets up from his seat and walks over to where you're sitting.
⚔️ "You better get out of here before you get hurt Duckling."
⚔️ You look at him startled with the cutest eyes, fuuuuckk
⚔️ You ask why with the voice of an angel; the orc bit the inside of his cheek to stop him from smiling.
⚔️ "You new in Phenonia?" He crossed his arms, glancing at the others in the tavern, all of them looking away from you after meeting his gaze.
⚔️ You tell him you're a traveler in search of adventure. He lets out a laugh, giving you a tusk-filled smile.
⚔️ He offers you a walk back to your inn and you happily agree, skipping and rambling about your travels the whole way. Normally he would tune out someone as talkative as you, words he didn't understand going one ear and out the other, but you, you managed to hook him with your explanations of distant lands and the discoveries you made there. He even asked questions and gave you tips and advice for your future adventures in Phenonia.
⚔️ You reach your inn and you bid the large orc goodnight, shaking his calloused hand and heading inside.
⚔️ He stood there for a minute, looking at the hand that touched yours. He felt his face heat up a bit before he shakes his head, trying to get the image of your bubbly smile out of his head. He heads to his home to get some rest but all he can think about is you in the bed next to him. Its not weird is it? god what's wrong with me????
⚔️ You two ran into each other a few more times, Valeth always using the nickname he gave you; Duckling. He says it's because you remind of a little duckling always waddling and smiling at everyone all the time.
⚔️ He helped you out sometimes whenever someone gave you a hard time. It's like he would magically show up to protect you like a big green guard dog. You would always give him that damn smile and treat him to a meal.
⚔️ When you two weren't together, he would be watching you go about your day in a busy street or from behind a merchant cart or crate. He knew your set schedule like the back of his hand, where you'd go for breakfast, your favorite place to rest after a long day, the spot you would always draw at. He would pay friends of his to keep tabs on you to make sure you're safe.
⚔️ You left a scarf once and he found it with an adorable pin that was for favorite bug made from jewels of your favorite colors. He wanted to give it back to you, but he couldn't bring himself to part with it. he found himself taking in the scent of you from it. He imagined you actually there with him as he stroked his cock while moaning into your scarf.
⚔️ Eventually he had enough of merely watching you and quick hand touches, he wanted to know your touch, he wanted to know your taste, he wanted to know the sound of your moans under him.
⚔️One night after an exhausting day of trying to sketch a bird that kept flying away, you see Valeth waiting by your inn. You smile weakly at him and wave, but he just sighs and walks over to you.
⚔️ You start to get a bit uneasy and ask what's wrong but he reaches in his coat and pulls out a cloth.
⚔️ "Sorry for this Duckling.." He mutters to you before pulling you to him, covering your mouth with the cloth. You black out before you could even scream for help.
⚔️ You wake up in a bed full of warm pelts with someone lying next to you. You gasp, remembering what happened and kicked yourself off the bed.
⚔️ Valeth jolts awake and sees you scrambling to your feet on the floor next to the bed. He gets up and quickly pulls you close as you try to wriggle out of his hold.
⚔️ He tries to calm you down, whispering comforting things to you. You fight the tears threatening to run down your face as you feel his breath on your neck.
⚔️ His hands feel you up and down, rubbing you in order to comfort you, but it only serves as a way to scare you even more.
⚔️ He kisses your neck, licking your sweet spots, his tusks ghosting across your skin like a dull blade.
⚔️ "It's alright Duckling, you're safe, it's going to be okay. But you're gonna stay here with me now alright? I'll keep you safe, I promise."
⚔️ He reaches in the drawer next to you two and pulls out your scarf, he puts it on you, crying your teary face with the soft fabric. You hold the scarf close to you, but you still turn away from him.
⚔️ He sighs and puts his hand at the back of your head, bringing your forehead to his.
⚔️ "You'll understand soon enough Duckie...you'll understand how much I love you.."
⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅
⚔️ Valeth kept you locked in his home after that, always leaving to keep up appearances that nothing happened. Whenever someone asked where you've gone, he said you just left in search of more adventure as you do.
⚔️ He was as tough and stoic as ever when he went out but as soon as he comes back home to his modest house in the edges of the kingdom and sees you, he becomes a giant cuddle bug.
⚔️ This big battle-scared orc turns to putty when he hugs your small form.
⚔️ He still locks the doors and windows from the outside in fear of you leaving him, but it's ok! You can still write about your travels and such! He brings home things he thinks you'd like. Weird stones, leaves, trinkets, anything.
⚔️ He would do anything for you, and you're reminded every day when he cuddles you close, taking in your sweet smell. Everything. Except being let go of course.
⚔️ Sometimes you refuse to eat in hopes of ticking him off but he just laughs and holds you in his arms like a stubborn baby and spoon-feeds you.
⚔️ No matter how much you kick and scream, he's always stronger than you, always shutting down your tantrums as easy as placing his hand over your mouth.
⚔️ Eventually you learn to live with him and his affections, the pile of junk he brought home is rummaged through and actually paid attention to by you, meals are eaten, albeit with you staring daggers into him, but he couldn't be happier.
⚔️ He never forced you to do anything lewd you didn't want to do, but he would sneak off out of bed to watch you, sometimes touch himself to the thought of the day he finally gets permission to bed you.
⚔️ But now, he's satisfied with you just sleeping with him in his arms, his face buried in your hair.
⚔️ "You're mine little Duckling...only mine..."
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Thnkank uouyu anon <3 <3 <3
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alphabetatoes · 22 days
Text
you'd make me pay? (jjk x reader)
aka the one where you joke w the men of jjk about paying to get affection (g. satoru + n. kento + k. choso + f. toji)
a.n.: reader is a comedienne n loves to mess w these men (the way the toji one actually happened to me 🙃)
c.w.: 18+, mdni
gojo
"C'mon- Wanna mark you up. Let everyone know you're mine." Satoru had spent practically the entire night trying to convince you to let him give you a hickey.
"Give me $10 and I'll think about it." The issue wasn't Gojo's insistence on marking you. It was his inability to adhere to subtlety. Yet he adored when he could see those red splotches of skin peaking out of your shirt collar.
Gojo stretches his body across your legs, his frame managing to span the entirety of the couch. "Toru, you're crushing me." You move the rogue white strands of hair out of his face.
"Please babe. Need you so bad." His bottom lip bulges as his whining continues.
You cave to his begging, giving him a light pat on the arm. "Fine, you big baby."
Gojo lifts himself from you and pulls you into his lap, a goofy smile strung across his face.. He takes a chaste kiss from your lips, reveling in his victory. You tilt your head to the side as he buries himself in the crook, nipping and sucking along your neck.
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nanami
Sharing a bath was not only a way for the two of you to spend time with one another, but to also relax from the stress of the day. Kento had poured the two of you a glass of wine, and you lit a candle to aid in the tranquility.
You're sat on opposite sides of the tub, indulging in the warmth of the water. "C'mere. Want you to sit in my lap while I wash your hair." Kento's hands draw soothing circles on your ankles, gently tapping them to get your attention.
You sink further into the bubble bath, taking a sip of the wine. "I'm so comfy though." The idea of having to move your tired limbs on your own was a travesty. "I'll need at least $15 if you expect me to move on my own."
"How about I make you dinner and give you a massage after instead?"
"You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Nanami." You feign concentration as you mull over his proposal. "But you've got yourself a deal." You clink your wine glass into his, cheers-ing to the proposal.
Once you're seated on Kento's lap, his strong hands make idle work to wash your hair. You let a hand sink to his waist, stroking against his cock to help him relax as well.
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choso
You were nestled into Choso's chest as the two of you watched a movie in the living room. One hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you into him. His other hand laid rest on the top of your leg, which you let rest draped over his.
"Can I kiss you?" Choso's breath tickles your ear as he whispers his request.
"For a dollar." You purse your lips, waiting for Choso to lean in.
He reaches for the wallet in his back pocket, pulling out a bill. "I only have a $20- y'know what? Just keep it." As he shoves the bill into your hand, you gently push it away.
"I was only kidding, baby." You try not to laugh too hard as you quell his nerves. The sincerity staining Choso's face has you melting. You give him a sweet smile, grabbing onto his cheeks to pepper him with kisses.
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toji
Toji was out of town on a job, leaving you unfulfilled for about a week. To help sate that aching feeling, you'd planned to video chat
“Your tits look great in that top.” Toji eyes you up and down, flashing a coy wink when he meets your gaze. “Think they’d look even better without it, though.”
Feeling playful, you give him an ultimatum. “Give me $5 and I’ll do it.”
“You’d make me pay?” His smirk turns into a pout, frustrated by your proposition. Whether he'd admit it or not, Toji missed you just as much. Craving for any glimpse of the body he had longed for.
“Now it’s $20.”
“Cut me a break, doll. Don’t need you actin’ like a brat when you got me all worked up like this.”
Toji pans the phone down to his waist. The material of his sweatpants is tented up as his dick strains against it. You flip him off and flash him a quick look at your tits, not quite giving into his demands.
He’d owe you big time once he got home.
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mockerycrow · 6 months
Note
Hiya!!! I'm the anon who asked about fics with biting Ghost!! I didn't get the notification that you answered my ask so I'll be asking like this, and to answer the question: sub!Ghost heehee 😋
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NEED IT (Sub!Ghost x GN!Reader)
ghost masterlist — ghost pic here
summary; ghost has been too wound up recently and you’re tired of it.
a/n; tbhh i’m not too satisfied with this :( wish i wrote it better!!!!
[WARNINGS; Sub!Ghost, pet names, dirty talk, biting + hickeys, brat taming elements, implied discovery of pain kink. Simon doesn’t talk much :(]
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THERE WAS AN itch underneath the surface of Simon’s skin and he couldn't figure out what it was for the life of him. He spent the entire day all wound up and unusually short with everyone. It’s true, he isn’t the nicest person to begin with, but he sure as hell isn’t too unnecessarily rude. Simon is usually more laid back than how he was behaving; he’s usually making puns and jokes, sometimes at other people's expense, but nothing too serious. 
It’s like he was stuck lecturing recruits with how tense his shoulders are, the way there’s way too much venom in his tone. Even when you bothered him about his sudden change in attitude, Simon didn’t have an answer for you. You could tell even he himself didn’t know. Simon felt like there was an uncomfortable energy running through his veins, stabbing his muscles and the nape of his neck. Every few hours for him, Simon felt like it was intensifying—so his reactions got worse.
You were very fed up with him by the end of the day; if something was pissing him off, he had the complete authority to do something about it. 
And so do you.
Simon groans as your hand pushes on his bare chest to keep him down on the bed, pushing him into the sheets. You’re straddling his hips, his jacket and shirt tossed somewhere, leaving him in his camo pants and with his balaclava on, but it’s bunched up at the bridge of his nose, exposing his neck and his jaw. His lips are parted as he looks up with you with a slight scrunch in his eyebrows, a need in his dark eyes that you can’t quite place, his pupils blown out. His hands rest on your outer thighs.
You lean down and you press your lips to his jaw and trail down, ripping a rumbling noise from his chest which develops into a shocked gasp when you sink your teeth into the area where his shoulder meets his neck. “Fuck—“ Simon hisses, one of his hands grabbing at the back of your shirt near the base of your spine. Pain sinks deep into his muscle and shocks his system for a moment, which quickly develops into a hot sensation as you turn from biting to sucking. “Haah—what—“ Simon manages to push out, his legs twitching underneath you. 
You don’t usually bite him; maybe a hickey or two, some licking but you’ve never bit him like this. You press your hips down onto his, drawing a choked noise out of his throat as you trail up to his throat and you suck a harsh hickey into his skin, your teeth nicking him. Simon’s tongue comes out to lick his lips, instinctually tipping his chin upwards to allow you complete access to his neck. Hot arousal pool in his stomach, spreading like runny honey through his hips and down his legs. Your hand grabs his jaw and moves his head the way you want, and he lets you.
Simon’s eyes flutter closed as you press harsh kisses and nips to his skin, ripping out a few loudish noises from his throat as you take your time, enjoying the way he’s twitching underneath you. You suck a harsh hickey to Simon’s collarbone. He inhales sharply; he’s never felt this sensitive to this kind of stuff before, but something about the way you’re leaving your mark on his skin is making his face flush hot. His hands trail under your shirt to grab at your waist, craving that skin to skin contact. You tsk, snapping Simon back to reality, his eyes opening. “Greedy,” You chide as you sit up.
Simon’s eyes lock with yours as your hands play with his belt for a moment, which sucks all of the air out of his lungs. You grin at his reactions; there’s something different about the both of you right now, and Simon shivers at the way your eyes flicker to his chest. Simon calls your name under his breath but before he can question what you want, you lean down and you press your tongue against one of his nipples and you drag, ripping a groan out of him before you begin to suck a hickey right next to his nipple. You feel Simon’s hips jump from the sensation, his hands twitching—trying to be good for you, trying to stay still. Simon wants to be good but fuck, the itch under his skin is ramping him up again.
He gasps when you sink your teeth into the meat of his pec and—the itch subsides for a second, the pain of your teeth shooting up his spine in the best way possible. Simon’s hands shift down to your hips and he squeezes, his breath hitching once you pull away from his pec. Your eyes roam his chest and Simon damn near wants to cover up from how hungry you look, Jesus Christ—
“All compliant now, aren’t you?” You coo, looking down at him. Simon’s eyebrow twitches in confusion and he goes to open his mouth to reply, but a “haah” leaves his lips when your hand wraps around the column of his throat. He melts into the mattress when your fingers press into the sensitive marks you’ve left against the sides of his throat, a full body shiver leaving him. “So sensitive, too..” You comment, watching the way his body just completely relaxes under your touch. 
Simon turns his head away with a breath, feeling the embarrassed heat creep up his neck to his face. “Fuck off.” He hisses, his throat vibrating under your hand and his Adam’s apple bobbing for a moment. You laugh in return and you squeeze the sides of his throat, causing Simon to close his eyes for a moment and it draws out a strained gasp from him. “You need a fuckin’ attitude adjustment. You’ve needed one all day, huh?” You sneer, using your grip on his throat to turn his head back towards facing you. “Look at me.”
Simon’s eyelids flutter open, his eyes staring back at yours. Your gaze is so invasive, searching for any sign of disobedience. “Maybe you need a reminder of where you belong, Simon.” His lips part to ask you what you mean—like he always does, he already knows he belongs under you—but you get to him first. You press a harsh kiss against his lips, biting at his lower lip until it’s swollen and you only pull away when his lips are slick with saliva. Your hand moves from his throat to his chest like before, allowing you to trail hot, wet kisses down his neck, over his collarbone, and to his chest. “Shit—“ Simon grunts as you sink your teeth into his other pec, sucking a dark hickey into the skin, causing a hot wave to flash over him.
Simon’s sure his skin is covered in your mark now—it’s only been a few minutes and he can already feel a delicious ache settling—and he doesn’t expect you to scoot back on his thighs and to undo his belt to his camo pants. His heart stutters in his chest right before you unbutton and unzip his pants. You swing yourself off of Simon’s thighs for a moment, tapping his leg. He’s already doing it as you murmur, “Hips up, sweetheart.” You tug his pants and underwear down, his cock twitching against his stomach; hard and aching, the tip leaking ever so slightly. Simon’s trying so hard to keep his eyes on you, he knows that is what you want—but it’s so hard when you look at him like he’s something you want to consume whole.
“Stop.” He whispers, catching your attention immediately. Simon’s looking away and his hands are grabbing at the sheets nervously. Big ol’ Ghost, cocky Lieutenant Simon Ghost Riley is nervous. “What was that, baby?” You ask, pausing. You could’ve sworn he said stop—it isn’t your safeword, but the way he said it concerns you—and you don’t want to push if that’s the case, if he truly wants to stop. Simon clears his throat and it’s clear he’s struggling, so you give him a moment. “You keep looking at me like you wanna eat me.” Simon says with a breathy laugh, managing to make eye contact with you. Your shoulders relax at the realization that he doesn’t want to stop, that you haven’t pushed his boundaries. You chuckle and you move between his legs, placing your hands on his knees and you slowly move them up his bare thighs, causing him to shiver. “Oh, you have no idea.”
You bend over and you press kisses against his stomach, causing the muscle underneath to flex and tense. You get to his thighs, your hand wrapping around his cock. “I’m gonna make sure you think and feel me every step you take, darling. Gonna make you sore and think of me for days.” Simon goes to respond but like the many times before, you interrupt him by sinking your teeth into the meat of his thigh, causing him to gasp. Simon knows you aren’t going to stop until his hips and thighs are aching with hickeys and bite marks—your hickeys and bite marks. Simon doesn’t complain when you suck dark and harsh hickeys into his v-line, nor when you scratch angry red lines into his skin to get him to shut up.
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waywardprintmaker · 7 months
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Ominis's earliest memories are that of being surrounded by family.
He remembers his legs dangling above the floor and the velvety feel of their living room chair. Remembers the hoarse caws of ravens through the open window and the faint smell of chocolates he wasn't yet allowed to have. There were the sneering remarks of his brother and his mother's ever-calm voice, urging him to "look this way, darling". The room felt too warm, the fabric beneath his hands too rough.
He remembers his fingers aching from how hard he's gripping the chair's arms, remembers his father's stern voice dripping with annoyance above his shoulder as he paces around the room. There's a sinking feeling in his stomach and a slight tremble to his knees. There's a wand pointed at his face for the fifth time in the last hour. 
At this point Ominis is too exhausted to cry. 
"Please, no more," he says weakly, "It hurts."
His mother only sighs in irritation. "Stop your whining, Ominis. This needs to be done." "But it hurts…" Ominis protests again. "Please, can't we stop?" "No more fussing. This might finally fix you, if you'd only cease snivelling and cooperate."
He remembers the velvet underneath his palms growing damp from the cold sweat of distress. Remembers squeezing his eyes shut though it made no difference. His entire body tensing as if bracing for a physical blow and the air growing heavy with magical energy as his father knelt in front of him.
Ominis pushes his back into the chair in anticipation as the incantation sounds and an already familiar surge of magic hits, heat engulfing his face and eyelids like hot coals pressed against his skin. His eyes sting and it hurts to blink. It feels even worse than the times before.
"Please," Ominis pleads through tears. "Couldn't we stop for today?"
His father gives no response, continuing the incantation with increasing intensity. Ominis tries to shut it out, pressing his palms hard against his eyes, to soothe the pain and hide his returning tears, but he's only given a few seconds of respite before his hands are being pulled away again.
"Hold still." 
Ominis takes a shuddering breath, steeling himself for what's to come. "Please, just one more day. I promise I'll be good tomorrow."
But his father ignores him, touching the wand to Ominis's skin. White-hot agony erupts behind his eyes once more, as the magic bursts through. Ominis yelps and twitches involuntarily from the shock of it.
"Perhaps he's had enough," Ominis's mother says, a rare note of concern in her voice. "Further spells won't help if he's too distressed."
But his father is implacable. "We keep at it until there's results. Now end your squabbling, both of you." He moves his wand closer to his son’s eyes again. 
Another sharp cry is torn from Ominis as another surge of magic assaults him. When it passes, he slumps weakly in his father's grip, dark spots dancing before his unseeing eyes. Firm hands grasp Ominis's shoulders, steadying him. "Look at me, boy. What do you see?"
Ominis feels movement before his face, blinks the pain away. He doesn't want to disappoint. If only he knew what he's supposed to see, maybe he could manage a little white lie, if just to make this stop… but his world remains unchanged, with only the faint impressions his other senses provide of a reality beyond his grasp. He trembles, eyes darting fearfully. "N-nothing. Only darkness."
For a long moment, his father gazes intently into Ominis's blind eyes, as if discerning some subtle change behind the milky irises. At last he draws back with a displeased grunt.
"Worthless. But we're done here for now. We will try again with a modified spell." His voice is cold with disappointment as he turns and strides from the room, indicating the session's end. It is a relief, though for how long, Ominis is unsure. He sinks back into the velvet chair, every muscle spent. Another day of agony awaited on the slim hope that this time, this time, the magic would at last pierce the veil over his sight. For now there is only the dark, and the vast emptiness where shapes and colors should be. He bites his lip to hold back a sob. The relentless throbbing behind his eyes is nothing compared to feeling so alone. He hugs himself tightly, hears his mother walk by, but she only pats his head distractedly as she passes. 
"Go play quietly now. And no more tears!"
Ominis feels a piece of chocolate be pushed into his palm - the promised reward for being good. 
He remembers staggering to his feet and feeling along the wall for the door. Remembers the rough wood of the banister, the hard edge of a window seat. Remembers the number of steps to the stairs as he climbs up to his bedroom and the exhaustion that drags him under like a riptide, offering temporary escape. The piece of chocolate is quickly forgotten in Ominis' palm. What little comfort it once offered is gone. He can feel it melting against his skin, but pays it no mind. It stains his sheets as he climbs under the covers.
He remembers waking to darkness, with stinging eyes still tightly closed, afraid to face a world that sees him only as broken while he remained trapped alone within it.
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naffeclipse · 10 months
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I don't know when I'll ever write this, but I've had this AU in the back of my mind ever since Bendy and the Dark Revival came out, and it's best to get it out of my head before it festers and rots.
More or less, it's BatDR and the DCA smashed into one. The premise is that you are an animator at Fazbear Studios and Sun and Moon are humans who go by Cyrus and Mani respectively, employed as voice actors. (First AU with human Sun and Moon whoo! don't get attached though) Vanessa is a janitor who is a bit odd, mostly keeping to herself though sometimes you feel like she's starting at your back when you're alone.
Cyrus and Mani perform as extras in the Fazbear cartoon, adding supporting voices for side characters and miscellaneous lines. Cyrus often supplies humorous, wacky, and surreal voices to his performances. Mani tends to get villainous or spooky characters with his deeper, raspier voice. They both enjoy what they do and love that they can work together as brothers.
You can't help but notice Cyrus and Mani. You admire their skill, their passion, and their smiles, and you sometimes even work up the courage to wave at Cyrus or Mani whenever one of the brothers happens to pass by your work desk.
They inspire you—not just with their work, but with their small acts of care. You find coffee on your desk when you return from a meeting with the other animators with a little smiling sun doodled on the cup. Sometimes, Cyrus asks you to join him on a walk since it's your lunch break and you could really use some sunshine and a chance to stretch your legs. When it gets far too late and you're burning the midnight oil, Mani is somehow always there, doing a funny voice to surprise you with a little reminder that it's past your bedtime. He leaves you little treats in blue wrappers, hidden in places on your desk, among your ink and papers.
It's not a surprise that you start drawing a character for them in your rare off hours when you still have the energy to hold a pencil. The Fazbear cartoon could add a new, permanent character. A robotic jester, lanky and tall, but with two forms for the day and night, funny and sweet and mischievous. Cyrus and Mani could both voice him!
That's silly, however. Fazbear Studios does not want your chaotic and half-brained scribbles nor do you dare show the brothers what they inspired—they might hate it. You keep your little jester character tucked away, along with a small doodle of a minor, nobody, gray character who may or may not be a tag along to the main act that is the jester. Your sketches and concept art are hidden away, far from where the light of day or the shine of night will ever see.
It goes missing one day. You're upset and asking everyone who went through your desk. No one confesses. Cyrus tells you that it'll be okay, he'll help you find it. Mani suggests that you keep locks on your drawers from now on.
It's never found, not that you wanted either of them to stumble upon it. Yet, they stay late with you after everyone has gone home, looking for your precious and secretive sketchbook through the many departments of the studio.
Somewhere along the way, Cyrus disappears, promising to return with your sketchbook. You lose Mani in the audio department before, oh, there's Vanessa. She tells you to come to the basement with her—she found your notebook. You're relieved but a little put off by Vanessa and reluctantly follow her down into the dark.
You don't find your sketchbook, but you do find Cyrus slumped against the wall, blood trickling down his temple, and a strange collection of shrines to one of the studio's cartoon characters.
Before you can rush to his side, pain explodes in your skull, cracking white across your vision. You fall to the ground, dazed, as Vanessa gives a cryptic promise to return with the last sacrifice. You manage to crawl across the floor in your pitiful state to reach Cyrus and attempt to revive him, but by then, Mani is walking in. His shock overtakes him but he dodges a swipe of Vanessa's wrench and starts struggling against her. You try desperately to drag Cyrus somewhere safe as he murmurs for you to get out of here, but in the middle of Vanessa's and Mani's fight, she flips a switch and ink begins filling the room.
The black flood sweeps Cyrus away from you. Pages spill out from the inside of Vanessa's vest, dozens of sketches of your jester character. You cry out. Mani looks to you. Vanessa at last shoves Mani into the surge of onyx liquid beside Cyrus, and you watch both of them go under together. You scream their names. She turns to you, grinning.
The last thing you remember is Vanessa shoving your head into the ink.
Then it's the only thing you remember. You're vaguely aware that your jet-black hands are strange and shiny, and that you don't know where you are in this sepia-colored studio, but you know something's not right. You're missing someone, and someone else. You're scared.
You wander around for a bit until you're attacked by monsters emerging from the ink, shrieking and wailing in gluey dark forms until a wonderful and terrifying automaton arrives. He destroys such a creature about to tear you apart. He stands so tall, detailed with sharp teeth and even sharper sun rays around his large, flat face, but you think you recognize those yellow eyes—a living cartoon.
He helps you calm down and asks for your name in a loud and funny voice that rings like a bell in your mind but you can't name the tune. You don't remember your name. He doesn't remember his either. He leads you away from the harsher spaces of the studio, somewhere 'safer'. You don't know if there is anything as safe, but you feel better with him.
You're startled when after a time, in the middle of talking to this sunshine character, he melts and morphs and bubbles until a crescent moon face emerges and a new grin. You panic before a darker, raspier voice, like a cartoon villain, tells you it's alright. He's here, too. He's not sure what's going on but he, and the other 'him', and you are gonna make it out of here, somehow.
You don't have hope anywhere else but in this unique robot jester, and he seems to want you to stay close to him. So it's you two, the last sane partnership in the crazed and dripping studios, fighting off ink creatures and surviving other bizarre characters. You learn how to wield a gent pipe and the jester is strong on his own, often able to tear things apart or toss monsters off of you before they can do worse. He has claws and teeth and he uses them well.
Vanny is a lady rabbit and a constant threat. She's smart and cunning, unlike the other mostly senseless attackers. She keeps tracking the two of you down and spouting off the religious rhetoric of Inktrap, promising that your sacrifices will be well worth the pain. You had to be introduced to the cycle. The ink has corrupted you perfectly. You are part of this place. You are never leaving and will give in to Inktrap.
You and he avoid Inktrap at all costs. You've only caught glimpses of the shadowy, pitch-black beast, but that's all you need to see as you both hide and hold your breaths until the danger just barely passes by.
You start to call the daytime jester Sun, and he seems to respond to it. The nighttime joker is Moon, and he neither hates nor loves it, but he answers when you call. He has a name for you, too, or rather names. Peach, bird, thrill, calico, and sweetheart. He gets creative and goofy. You think he's being mean sometimes but he tells you he's not, he means it, and you don't know how to take that before you two have to focus on escaping this part of the studio and getting into safer areas. You protect his back and he protects yours, and together, you make this living, unending nightmare bearable. Sharing bacon soup, falling asleep in Moon's lap, and patching up any drips in Sun's inky form becomes something like a life.
It just never stops, repeating over and over. The jester deserves better than this, whatever happened to him. You know you both do.
You become determined to learn how the cycle works and how to prevent it from going on. There's a funny feeling you have that, somehow, you're going to have to go through Vanny and the Inkdemon. One day, you will get the jester and yourself free.
You need to see his and your happy ending.
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cherrychilli · 2 months
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18+
Steddie x AFAB reader, exhibitionism, wet-t shirt contest(kinda), allusions to group sex(mmf), mentions of alcohol and weed but it's all consensual baby
a/n: what is this you may ask? good question. So there I was, three beers in, thinking about Steve's tits and well, I ended up typing this out real quick. Enjoy.
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"Steve, it really wouldn't be much of a contest", you tell him for the second time, rolling your eyes like it might help you get your point across better. It doesn't.
"I'm telling you I could beat you", he persists because Steve Harrington was never one to roll over so easily.
"And I'm telling you there's no way in hell"
"You're pretty sure of yourself, huh?"
"Yup. And I'll give you two good reasons why", you stick out your chest like it wasn't already obvious.
Steve scoffs, narrowing his eyes at you, showing no sign of backing down even when his knee bumps the side of the coffee table, nearly tipping what's left of both your beers over.
That's what had started this whole thing. A few too many drinks and a drunken crack about who had the most distracting tits out of the two of you. Who would have known it would have escalated into this.
"You guys know there's only one way to settle this right?", a third voice intervenes, at the end of which hangs a joint pinched between plush pink lips.
You both turn to Eddie then, noticing the way he's sprawled out on the couch, hands behind his head, looking all kinds of amused by the two of you bickering.
"He's right", Steve says, turning back to you, determination burning bright in his eyes. You challenge him with a fiery stare of your own, hands on your hips. "Outside. Now.", you grit out.
You both begin marching outside but not before you yell out to Eddie. "Eddie! get the hose!"
---
"Okay, so it's agreed. I'm the impartial judge and whoever wins uh...wins. We didn't really come up with a prize did we?", Eddie scratches at the day old stubble peppering his chin as he ponders.
"Just spray us man", Steve deadpans, pulling the other boy out of whatever fleeting thought he'd been occupied with.
Eddie does as he's told and he smirks while doing it, spraying the two of you down in Steve's back yard, your white t-shirt's turning translucent in seconds. You make a show of it as the water hits you, running your fingers through your dripping wet hair, your movements thick with allure, letting your tits jiggle and bounce in your skin tight t-shirt. You know how much both Eddie and Steve liked it when you made them bounce, their eyes always fixed on your chest even when you did something as ordinary as coming down the stairs or heading out for a jog.
This should be an easy win. Right?
You realize quickly though that perhaps you'd been a bit too cocky. You'd thought the win would be guaranteed yours until you got an eyeful of Steve, his glistening tanned skin and toned muscle showing through his wet t-shirt in that Grecian god kind of way. Typical.
The contours of his defined pecs and his ample chest hair showing through have you second guessing yourself, his nipples hard like yours and hair still stylish even when wet. Suddenly you weren't so sure you could clinch the win now and for a second, just a second, you didn't care. He was definitely a sight and you could tell that Eddie thought so too, his eyes darting between the two of you, managing to look both ecstatic and unsure.
"Well? who's it gonna be Munson?", Steve places a hand on his hips and you can't help but notice how his ass looks even better in wet jeans, the same way they think yours does in your wet shorts.
It's going to be a close call.
Two sets of eyes look expectantly at the dry metalhead for his verdict, a shiver running through you as the breeze starts to pick up.
"Gotta call a tie on this one", he answers in a way he hoped would be decisive, unable to pick between the two of you when truly you both looked as good as the other.
"What? no way!", you protest, folding your arms under your breasts, drawing the attention of both boys as they eye your chest.
"Yeah, you gotta pick one", Steve agrees, reluctantly tearing his gaze away and back to Eddie, clearly unsatisfied with the result.
Eddie looks thoughtful for a while, his eyes lighting up in a lightbulb moment. "If you're so hungry for a win how about you two wrestle in the mud for it?", he does a poor job of masking his obvious leering and you know too well that the suggestion has little to do with settling the score and everything to do with making one of his wet dreams come true.
Steve and you share a look then, equal parts knowing and mischievous. "You thinking what I'm thinking?", he asks you, prompting Eddie to quirk up an eyebrow as he watches your exchange curiously.
"Oh, definitely", you tell him, the both of you springing into action.
In a matter of seconds, Steve gets a hold of Eddie with ease, drawing his arms behind his back and holding them in place, the weed making the darker haired boy too slow to anticipate or counter Steve's movements.
"Hey what the hell-", Eddie's cut off when he gets a face full of water once you've grabbed a hold of the hose, mercilessly spraying him down until his black t-shirt and grey sweats turn drenched.
Surprised shouts turn to peals of belly aching laughter as each of you try to snatch the hose out of the other's grasp, chasing the remaining two down to spray them even more.
Sometime later the hose is abandoned altogether and wet clothes are discarded haphazardly throughout the yard and though there's no wrestling in the mud today, the three of you take your time engaging in a different kind of group activity on Steve's back patio -- one in which you all end up winners.
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yuri-is-online · 8 months
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There's Mud in Your Eye (Leona and Deuce x Yuu)
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"Oh can I help you? You seem to be lost." You attempt to cheerfully ask the vaguely familiar looking person in front of you. As if he is deliberately trying to rub salt in your wounds, Crowley ignored your request to leave campus for NRC parents day and is instead making you and Grim run errands. The person in front of you, blissfully ignorant to your inner turmoil perks up at your attention.
"Forgive me for asking, but are you the magicless prefect?" You and Grim exchange a confused glance. "You've got to be right?" They're practically glowing with how happy they are to see you. " Oh I'm sorry, I've just heard so much about you!" Wait, what?
notes: they/them pronouns used for Yuu, i am out of creative ways to describe these: it's Cheka and Mamma Spade. Slight references to the White Rabbit event. If you liked this please check out the previous parts on my master list here.
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Leona
A very confused, very important looking little lion is standing in front of you, attempting to mimic Leona's judgey thinking face. Five year olds lack the smarmy bitterness required to truly pull off the look, but you have to admit, it is pretty cute.
"Um, do you think he ran away from his guards again?" Grim whispers, painfully loud and without nearly enough concern. "Do you think we'll get in trouble if we can't get him back to his retainers?" The scenario feels completely unreal, but then again so does standing in front of royalty. Who are you again anyway? Just some weirdo who is going to have to apologize to their loved ones for taking so long to come home because you couldn't sneeze in another world without bumping into royalty. While you are busy considering whether or not it would be considered child neglect to sprint away from the little guy, Cheka finally finishes his thought process, letting out a contented "hmmm" as he points decisively at you.
"You," he says with all the authority of an extra on a children's tv show "are not Unca."
Well.
That was not what you were expecting. Your mind draws a lengthy blank as Cheka grins up at you in a surprisingly catlike manner seemingly very pleased with himself.
"How did it take ya so long to figure that out?" It has to be a truly stupid question to get Grim's voice to crack.
"Well I decided I was gonna sneak up on Unca." A terrible idea really but who are you to refute royalty. "So instead of running around and askin I decided to just focus on his scent! But I found two places he could be so I just decided to go to the closer one."
"Whatdya mean?" Grim takes a deep breath and interrupts his train of thought with a hard gag you really hope is dramatic. "Oh wow he ain't wrong, you really smell like that lazy bi-" You manage to muzzle him before he can teach Checka too many bad words. You wonder if it would be rude to sniff yourself in front of a literal prince, Cheka's pleased little tail swish doesn't help.
"Can you please take me to Unca?" he asks, so very sweetly looking up at you like you're the shiniest star in the night sky. It hurts to disappoint him.
"Uh I'd love to little guy but I'm not too sure where he is..." you really hope Cheka can't tell just how nervous you are. Crowley did give you a schedule, but it wasn't super detailed, just a vague set of notes about the various events going on.
"Then I'll just stay here with you!" He says, with a surprising degree of authority. "Unca's scent is really strong so I'm sure he'll show up soon!"
''I don't think that's a good idea little guy." You just called the Crown Prince of the Sunset Savannah a little guy. Which he is but you are pretty sure there's a time period where that would have gotten you executed, and you can only pray it's not now. The intense look of what you assume are Cheka's guards running up the main street is not helping with that.
"Your highness! Please don't run off like that." The man seems wary of scolding the prince, but he has no qualms about staring you down. "You! What is your name and who do you think you are to be speaking so casually to-" He cuts himself off, bluster fading as he takes a deep breath and starts staggering away from you. Well not you per se, you realize as you turn around and see an extremely intense looking Leona behind you.
"Stop blamin' your inability to do your job on other people." Leona's voice is slow, authoritative enough that you almost forget he's supposed to be the second prince. The guards do too, until Cheka jumps away from them onto Leona's shoulders and shatters the illusion just a bit.
"Unca! Unca! You're gonna show me the spelldive fields right?" Cheka nuzzles his Uncle's cheek while Leona tries his best to get away.
"I thought you were gonna stay with Prefect." He grumbles.
"We can come with." You say before you fully realize what you're saying surprised at how ok you are with the offer. Cheka lights up, jumping away from his Uncle to nuzzle up to you. Leona's gaze softens ever so slightly, even if he immediately breaks eye contact and starts walking away from you.
"You're welcome to come if you can keep up." You try to convince yourself you follow him just to get away from the guards, but there's a spring in both your steps no one is brave enough to act like they notice.
Deuce
"Yuu! And Grim too! Lucky me I thought I was going to be stuck looking for my kids for at least another hour." Dilla Spade cheerfully says, her decision to refer to you as her child momentarily distracting you from the fact Deuce is nowhere to be seen. She seems to have been granted a day off from work, her usual delivery uniform ditched in favor of a very mom like set of old sweatpants and an old athletic jacket with a logo you assumed belonged to Deuce's middle school.
"Mama Spade!" Strange feelings aside you are extremely happy to see Dilla, and happier still when she perks up just a bit at your calling her mom. "Did Deuce forget to text you again?"
"Not exactly," she says with an affectionate sigh "I caught up with him a bit earlier but he ran off to find his Housewarden. He really wanted to introduce us but said it might be a bit difficult to make that happen."
"Yeah..." Grim says as you exchange a look "Riddle's a really busy guy."
"Well never mind then." She says with a shrug. "What's up with you? Deucey tells me all sorts of things, but it's never the full truth." You shouldn't be surprised Dilla knows something is up. Honestly it's a wonder any of the students with a half way decent relationship with their parents hasn't been yanked out of this school already.
"Nothing too bad I hope?" You say, hopeful that Dilla will give you something to work with so you don't confess to something too wild. She laughs.
"I'm a mom, worrying's part of the territory." You breathe a sigh of relief, though you can't help but wonder just what Dilla's reaction would be to knowing Deuce had fought four overblot phantoms. Would she be proud? You hope so, he deserves it. "I keep telling Deuce to invite you to spend summer with us but he's really hung up on doing things the 'honorable way.'" You try your best not to fluster.
"What's that even mean?" Whines Grim, probably thinking more about the donuts you had while visiting Clock Town more than the implications kicking around in your mind. "offerin' to help me and my hench human out is honorable enough!"
"It really is," you try not to come off as too eager, it would be really nice to spend the Summer somewhere that wasn't Ramshackle, even if it would hurt the ghost's feelin-
"Is Deuce waitin' till he can afford a ring or somethin'?" Grim says, crossing his little paws and sticking your words in your throat. Dilla winking at the little monster with a conspiratorial grin makes you choke. "He is isn't he! Hmph, figures. Well he knows he won't get the Great Grim's permission!"
"Grim!" You squeak.
"Well you are a bit young," Dilla says "but you have my blessing prefect."
"I- I think there's been a bit of a misunderstanding-" you don't want to get anyone's hopes up, you aren't even dating Deuce, you want to say that you don't like him that way, but the lie dies on your lips as a familiar duo comes into view just behind Dilla.
"MOM! oh and PREFECT!!!" The overwhelming joy in Deuce's eyes contrasting with the smug amusement of Ace makes you feel just a bit more at home, despite the awkwardness of the situation. You can almost convince yourself that he's running up the road on the double just to see you.
"Think of it this way," whispers Dilla, firmly placing a hand on your shoulder in a comforting and not forceful way "you're family, and you always will be no matter what label gets slapped on things. Though I am pretty sure you can guess Deuce's preference."
You can, or at least you can hope.
719 notes · View notes
justagalwhowrites · 2 months
Text
Yearling - Ch. 31: Warmth
You cope with the aftermath of patrol. A continuation of Yearling ch. 1-30 found on Tumblr here.
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Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader
Warnings: Fall out from canon-typical violence. Plot points from TLOU2. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only 
Length: 8k
A/N: Hi y'all. This does have a continuation of the spoilers from TLOU2. Again, I'm so sorry for not warning about these further in advance. If you have any questions, feel free to shoot me a DM (or you can always yell in the comments or in my asks. I don't delete things if they're not the kindest so I'll leave whatever you want to send my way up, I totally get it.) Thanks for being here ❤️
AO3 | Chapter One | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
It shouldn’t be this hard to stay conscious when the world is ending. 
You’d had the thought before, in the early days of the outbreak. When you were trying to find someplace safe and had no idea where to start, when you were just riding and riding and hoping you’d be alive to see the next morning. 
But now was different. It wasn’t your life, it was Joel’s. His was so much more important than your own and the fear of losing him was keeping you awake. You’d nod off for a second - you thought, anyway - only to jerk back awake when your grip on his wrist slipped and his pulse wasn’t a constant - if weak - drumbeat below your fingers. 
You weren’t quite sure how long you’d been on the floor with him. Things were fuzzy. You’d lost a lot of blood, you were familiar with that sensation now, you could identify it even as your mind was foggy. You still weren’t entirely sure what had happened. You remembered Joel screaming - you didn’t think you’d ever forget that horrific sound - and running to find him. You remembered watching as that girl swung the golf club down on his body. It wasn’t until you were already in the room, fighting for control of your gun with someone who looked like he was about Ellie’s age that you realized this was probably a mistake. You’d charged in without a plan to get backup, you were hugely outnumbered, no one knew where the fuck you were. You should have at least gone back for your horse, you were pretty sure she could have fit down here and you could have used sheer size and weight to clear the room. 
But they were killing him. That’s all that could force that sound from someone, life and death, and you couldn’t risk it. If there was a chance, even a tiny one, that you could save him, you were going to take it. Even if it killed you, you were going to take it. 
The threat was gone now - or you hoped it was, at least. Gatling was still on guard. You could feel how tense she was behind you, her body engaged and ready to strike. If they came back armed to the teeth before help arrived, though, you’d be finished. 
Joel’s wrist, the one you’d been holding, relaxed some and you forced yourself to sit up. 
“Joel?” You managed, adjusting your hold on him. His whole arm was limp now. Your heart beat faster. You released his wrist and pressed your fingers into his neck, where you liked to kiss him and feel the vital thrum of his pulse through his skin. It was faint but it was there. You adjusted yourself, propping yourself up on your elbow as your cut side screamed in pain, and you ran your fingers through his hair. You took comfort in the fact that you still could do that. While the rest of his body had been brutalized, Joel’s head was intact outside of where it looked like someone had landed a punch on his cheek near his eye, a bruise blossoming on his skin but no blood shed. It was like the girl had been saving his head for last, like she was trying to draw it out, make sure he was alive and awake while she hurt him. It turned your stomach. 
“You’re OK Joel,” you held face gently in your hand. “Gonna get you out of here, get you back to Ellie. You’re OK.” 
You stayed propped up like that for a while, just talking to him and running your fingers gently through his hair and feeling his breath on your skin until you were too weak to hold yourself up anymore. You collapsed alongside him then, trying to shield his body with yours as much as you could in case the people came back. 
Just a little sleep. That’s all. That’s what you needed, just enough rest to be able to think straight. Then you could figure out how to get Tommy and Joel back to Jackson. 
“Gatling,” you managed before you passed out. “Guard.” 
You woke up to snarling. 
Your head was swimming and you could feel the strength of the dog at your side, her body pressed back against you as she growled and barked. You tried to get your bearings as quickly as you could, fumbling for the rifles you’d brought to Joel’s side. 
“Bambi!” You recognized Ellie’s voice. “Bambi, call off Gatling, she won’t listen to me, we can’t get close enough…” 
“Gatling,” you gritted your teeth, your cut side burning and pulling as you tried to sit up. “Down.” 
You felt her relax and she gave a little whine before curling up against you and giving you a lick. You managed to prop yourself up on your uninjured side, eyes fighting to focus as Ellie, Jesse, Julie and Gene came in. Ellie ran for Joel, Gatling giving a little whine as she tracked her with her eyes.
“Jesus Christ,” Gene said as he got a good look at Joel. 
“He’s alive,” Ellie said, her voice cracking. “I thought…” 
“I know,” you adjusted so you could see him, check on his bandages. Your side protested, damaged skin pulling painfully. “But we have to get him to the doctor, we have to move him now…” 
“I don’t know that we can,” Gene knelt next to Ellie, looking Joel up and down. 
You frowned. 
“The fuck do you mean you don’t know.” 
“I mean,” he said gently. “We need to move quick, already been here too long, and we only have so many hands. I don’t know that he can make it back to Jackson and we should focus on…” 
“Fuck you,” your teeth were clenched, sweat starting at your temples from the strain of sitting upright. “We are not just gonna leave him out here…” 
“If we can save you and Tommy?” Gene said. “Then that’s what we should do. That’s what he’d want.” 
“Fuck you!” Ellie looked murderous. “Bambi’s right…” 
“C’mon,” Julie’s hands gently enveloped your shoulders. “Let’s try to get you up…” 
“I’m not going!” You wrenched yourself out of her grip and cried out in pain, a gush of blood coming from the wound at your side. “I’m not going without him, I’m not leaving him here!” 
Julie’s hands were on you again but you pulled yourself free, forcing yourself to your knees. 
“You’re gonna get yourself hurt,” Gene warned, moving for you, too, but you ignored him. 
“Gatling!” You managed through clenched teeth. Her head sprang up. “Guard!” 
She jumped to her feet and jumped between you and Gene. 
“Bambi,” he said cautiously, hands up, as your dog snapped her jaws and snarled at him. 
“I’m not going anywhere without him,” you were panting for breath. “You can’t make me, not with her like this. She’ll kill you and I’ll fuckin’ let her. Take him. Now.” 
Gene looked back at Jesse, who was helping Tommy sit up. He just shrugged. Gene looked back to you. 
“Fine,” he said. “But you gotta give us some space to work, can’t move him with her like this…” 
You struggled to your feet, using Julie’s shoulder as leverage, and you limped to the wall, all but collapsing against it. Gatling stayed on you, staring Gene down, seeming to trust Julie as you leaned against her. 
“She’s guardin’ me,” you said. “Won’t bother you over there. Move him. Do it.” 
You watched as Gene, Jesse and Ellie got Joel off the floor and out of the room. There was a perverse spot on the ground where his body had been, his blood pooled there. There was so much of it, so much it didn’t seem like there would be any left inside of him. You remembered, suddenly, Justin on the night of the outbreak. How you’d tried to put his blood back inside of him in the hopes that it would save him. How could you save the man you loved if all his blood was on the floor? 
“He’s alive?” Tommy asked from his place propped against the wall. There was a streak of blood down his face. 
“He’s alive,” you said. He closed his eyes and nodded, leaning his head against the wall. 
“Thank you,” he said, quietly enough that you could barely hear him. “I can’t…” 
“It’s OK,” you said. “We’ll get him back. He’ll be OK. He will.” 
You weren’t sure you believed it.
Jesse came back down and helped Tommy up before stopping near the door, keeping a safe distance from you and Gatling. 
“We got him on a horse,” he said. “We gotta move.” 
You gave him a nod and watched him get Tommy started on the stairs before you looked down at Gatling, her body drawn tight, ready to spring into action. 
“Gatling. Heel.” 
She looked up at you, muscle relaxing, and licked her lips. 
“You’re a good girl,” you said, trying to imbue as much praise into your voice as you could manage. “You did real good.” 
She wagged a little uncertainly and watched, waiting to follow you. Julie looped your arm around her shoulders while hers slipped around your waist and she helped you toward the stairs, taking it slow. You had to stop and rest once, not able to breathe, the warm gush of your blood when you pulled the air down low in your lungs making your head spin. 
“Think you can make it?” Julie asked, concerned. 
You nodded, wincing. 
“I’ll make it,” you said. “I know, we have to move.” 
She held you a little tighter and the cold air burned your lungs when you made it outside. Joel was draped over Ares, Gene mounted up behind him. Tommy was on his own horse, blood still on his face as he stared blankly at Joel’s limp body. 
“You can ride with me,” Julie said but you shook your head. You weren’t about to not be in control of a horse, not in this situation. You needed to have the power if something went wrong. You couldn’t trust anyone else to make Joel a priority if there were infected or raiders or, worst of all, the people who had attacked him to begin with. You needed to be able to move to protect him. 
“I’m fine,” you said through gritted teeth, even though you knew getting on Renaissance was going to hurt something fierce. “Don’t need to be slowin’ us down any more by putting two of us on a horse.” 
She went to protest but you pulled away from her and swallowed the sounds of your pain as you went to Renaissance and pulled yourself onto her. You called Gatling onto your saddle, too, and she settled there, still on high alert. You guided the horse to be alongside Gene and Joel and stared Gene down, almost daring him to fight you on it. 
“I want to get everyone back,” he said gently. “But if it’s not everyone, I want as many as I can get.” 
“Then let’s go,” you bit out. 
The ride back to Jackson felt long, longer than it really was, you were sure. Every step Renaissance made was painful. It was hard to stay conscious when you’d lost so much blood and the pain was blinding. You were terrified that something was going to happen, that someone was going to pick now to attack people from Jackson and that you wouldn’t be strong enough to save Joel. The thought was constant and overbearing, hollowing out your chest and making your stomach clench. 
By the time the walls of the city were in view, you were barely able to stay on your horse. Dina had ridden ahead to tell the doctors and the council what was happening and you were thankful for it as your head spun and vision grew spotty as you neared the gates. You were too out of it to notice that someone was there to catch you as your strength started to give out.
“Woah there!” You vaguely recognized Ryan, a guard you regularly saw when he went out on patrol, stomach turning as he lowered you to the snow. “Hey Doc! Got one here!” 
“No,” you shook your head, words starting to slur. The blood on your clothes was cold against your skin. “M’fine… Joel, need to help Joel…” 
“They’re getting him,” he said, looking down at you. He had a nice face, you thought. Pleasant and calming. “You got him back here, it’s OK. We’ll get you taken care of, it’s alright…” 
“Joel,” you closed your eyes. At least things were warmer here. It hurt less. “Need… Joel…” 
“We’ve got him,” Ryan said. His voice sounded so far away. “It’s alright, we’ve got him.” 
You barely remembered nodding before you passed out. 
You were warmer when you woke up. 
Sound came first. It took a moment before you could open your eyes but you could hear the muffled sounds of bickering not far away. For half a moment, you thought you were in Joel’s bed. That he and Ellie were in a tiff just outside his bedroom door, going back and forth about some harebrained scheme that one of them had latched onto. You thought about pressing your face into the pillow and trying to go back to sleep, hoping that Joel would come in once one of them wore the other down. He did that sometimes when he woke up before you, bringing you a cup of tea and setting it on the nightstand before wrapping around you, pulling you into his broad chest and burying his face in your hair or your neck, kissing you and breathing you in until you stirred in his arms. 
And then you remembered. Waking up next to Joel. Going on Patrol. The storm. The blood. 
You tried to sit up before your eyes were open, side pulling and head spinning. 
“Hey guys, she’s waking up!” 
Your eyes had never been heavier but you forced them open anyway, already reaching and groping to figure out where you’d ended up. 
The room was bright, the bed soft. It was the third time you’d managed to dodge death and awoken, confused and lightheaded, in Jackson’s clinic. The other bed was empty.  
“Joel,” you started trying to get up but two small hands held you in bed and you frowned, ready to fight whoever was holding you back, but it was Savvy, her eyebrows drawn tightly together, curls springing in every direction. 
“Mom, you have to be calm, you’ll rip your stitches…” 
She was here. She was with you, willing to talk to you, touch you. The sound of her voice, all gentle concern, made your chest tighten. You just looked at her for a moment, seeking out the minute changes in her since you’d gotten a chance to see her - really see her - last. You thought she might be having her last growth spurt. She looked a little longer, her face a little thinner. There was a scratch on her cheek that you wanted to kiss like you did when she was little. There were tears in her eyes. 
“Savvy…” 
“I was so scared,” her voice cracked. “I thought you might be dead, I thought…” 
“Oh honey,” you pulled her against you and held her to your chest, one arm looping around her waist, the other hand cradling her head to you, the wet of her tears on your neck. You kissed her temple and tried to keep the tears that were starting to cling to your eyelashes from falling. “It’s OK, you’re alright, I’ve got you. Don’t have to be scared, you’re OK.” 
“I’ve never seen you like that,” she sniffed from her place against your skin. “You’re always so strong, you’re never hurt, not like that…” 
“I know,” you said softly, rocking her gently. “I’m sorry, Honey, I wish you hadn’t seen that. I promise, I’ll do everything I can to make sure you never see it again and we can talk all about it but baby, I need to know where Joel is. Is he here? Is he OK? Is he alive?” 
She sniffed and started to pull back from you as the door opened, Ellie, Tommy, Maria and Dr. Livingston coming in. They moved slowly, cautiously. Like they were worried you would startle if they behaved normally. Tommy looked washed out, Ellie exhausted, both with grim looks on their faces. Your arms went limp and Savvy sat back from you, looking between you and them. 
“No,” you shook your head, a lump growing in your throat. “No, no, you’re wrong, he’s not…” 
“He’s alive,” Dr. Livingston said gently. “Barely. But you got him here just in time, it was very very close while we worked on him…” 
“Where is he,” you tried to get up again but Savvy held you down. “I need to see him, just for a second, please…” 
“He’s still unconscious,” Dr. Livingston continued. 
You frowned, looking between everyone. 
“That’s bad,” you said, reading their expressions. “Why… How long has it been?”
“We’ve been back about two and a half days,” Tommy said, his arms crossed over his chest. 
You nodded slowly. That made sense to you.
“He was hurt bad,” you said, looking between them again. “He lost a lot of blood…” 
“He did,” Dr. Livingston said. “But… well, we’d normally expect to see more from him by now. He’s breathing on his own - we don’t have the facilities to keep him alive if he can’t - but that’s the best we can really say for him. He’s… he’s unresponsive.” 
You processed what she said for a moment.
“You’re sure?” 
She nodded, her mouth a thin line. 
“Are you…” You had to close your eyes and focus for a second. None of this came easy or naturally. It was utterly unnatural, thinking of Joel in that way. He was so strong, so vital. He couldn’t just stop being like that. He couldn’t just fade away into nothing like that. “Are you saying he might not wake up?” 
“The longer he’s like this, the more likely it becomes,” Dr. Livingston said. 
“But he’s still alive,” you said, looking back toward Ellie and Tommy again, looking for that reassurance that you weren’t crazy. They knew him, they knew that he wouldn’t just disappear from his body like that. “He’s still breathing.” 
“He’s alive,” she said. “But he might be brain dead, we have no way of knowing right now, no way of scanning for brain function like we did before… I’m so sorry, but you have to consider the possibility that…” 
“Take me to see him,” you cut her off. She looked at Maria, worry in her eyes, like she thought you might be unstable. “Please.” 
Dr. Livingston sighed. 
“You’ve got a fair few fresh stitches and you’re still down plenty of blood yourself. We’ll have to take it slow.” 
Ellie and Savvy helped you stand up and you could feel the wounds on your leg and stomach protesting the movement. For a moment, you thought you might be able to count the number of stitches in your skin because the way it pulled and strained. You hissed and clutched the girls’ hands, squeezing their fingers so hard that you could only hope it didn’t hurt them. 
They helped you across a short hallway to a room that was almost identical to the one you’d been in, just with one fewer bed, giving people more room to work. Joel was there, flat on his back, his arms down straight at his sides over the top of the blanket. But he looked strange, unnatural. 
It took you a moment to recognized the part of it that was wrong. His chest rose and fell, the worst of his injuries hidden by the quilt. He looked like he was sleeping. But it was off. He never slept like that, straight as a board with his arms at his sides in that way. It wasn’t like him, it wasn’t the way his body arranged itself when he was relaxed. Even when he wasn’t curled around you, he slept on his side or, if he was on his back, his hands were folded and resting where his chest met his stomach. He napped on the couch that way sometimes, when he was sleeping lightly, waiting for you. You could come in and press a kiss to his forehead and he would open one eye and cock a smile at you, just big enough that his cheek would dimple. 
But if your lips touched him now, you knew he’d be still. He wouldn’t look at you like you made him happy just by existing. His cheek wouldn’t dimple. 
You made your way to a chair near the head of the bed and lowered yourself into it slowly. His skin was pale, his face totally lax in a way that wasn’t peaceful and was, instead, like an echo. 
“Oh God,” you breathed, one hand going to your lips. 
“We’re doing everything we can,” Dr. Livingston said gently. “We have ways to get him fluids and nutrients but… it’s nothing long term. We’ll just have to hope he makes a turn for the better.”
You nodded, not able to stop looking at him. His body was so empty, so unlike him. 
“Can I stay with him?” You asked quietly. You weren’t sure when you’d started crying but you were. 
“Sure,” she said. “For now. But you need rest…” 
You just nodded. You’d fight that battle when the time came. 
The doctor left you with the girls, Tommy and Maria. Joel’s family and yours. All the people you had in the world in this one, small room. 
“I was going to go home and get changed, take a nap…” Ellie said quietly. “Can I bring you something?” 
“One of his shirts?” You asked. 
“Sure,” she said. You heard the door open and she paused. “You did everything you could, Bambi. We all did.” 
You nodded, not willing to argue with her. 
“I think Tommy and I will get out of here for a bit, too,” Maria said. “Give you some time. We’ll be back in a few hours unless I can actually get my husband to get some real sleep…” 
“He wouldn’t be sleepin’ if it were me,” Tommy said, voice sharper than you were used to hearing. 
Maria sighed. 
“Come on, honey,” she said. “You need rest, too.” 
The room was quiet for a moment, so quiet you could hear the sound of Joel’s shallow breaths. You wanted to put your head on his chest and listen to the life inside him, reassure yourself that he was still in there somewhere, but you didn’t want to hurt him. You’d already done enough. 
“Mom?” Savvy’s voice was soft. “Is it… can I stay? For a bit?” 
You managed to pull your eyes away from Joel to find her, standing to the side, her arms tight over her chest. 
“Of course baby,” you said, looking for another chair. She found one first, moving it to be beside yours. She settled in there, taking a deep breath and letting it out in a heavy sigh. She was looking at Joel, her face drawn. “How have you been?” 
She shrugged noncommittally. 
“Alright, I guess,” she said. “School is OK. Math is stupid.” 
You laughed lightly once. 
“Math’s not stupid but… I know what you mean. Wasn’t ever my strong suit. I liked history best. And music, of course.” 
“Course,” she smiled a little. “I like Ellie and… I like staying where I have been but… I missed you. Missed home.” 
You swallowed the growing lump in your throat. 
“I missed you, too,” you said, voice wet. “So much. More than anything.” 
She nodded slowly, not looking at you. 
“I heard the doctors and some other people talking,” she said hesitantly. “What they were saying… It’s not the first time they’ve seen you hurt like this.” 
You waited for a moment, to make sure she was done. 
“It’s not,” you said. 
She nodded again. 
“How did you end up here?” She asked quietly. 
“I…” You sighed and tried to find the best way to phrase it. “I’d wound up with some bad people. I got hurt. Joel found me when I was in real bad shape. He brought me here. He saved me.” 
“When was that?” 
“About two years ago,” you said. 
“So you weren’t just here the whole time,” she said, more like a statement than a question. 
“No,” you said softly. “I wasn’t.” 
She nodded again. You could see her processing the information, her eyes slightly squinting as she did, so like her father used to do. It still tugged at your heart, bits and pieces of a man you’d loved still alive in his child. 
“I’m still not sure how I feel,” she said, gnawing on her lower lip. “But… I don’t want to keep being mad at you. I miss you. I’d… I’d like to find a way to see you. At least some. For now.” 
“I’d like that,” you said, sniffing a little. “I’d like that a lot. As much time as you want, honey, I’m here.” 
“OK,” she smiled a tight lipped smile at you before looking to Joel. “Do you really think he’ll wake up?” 
You sighed, looking at him, too. 
“I don’t really know anything about medicine,” you said. “But… I do know Joel. And I don’t knot that there’s anything that can keep him from taking care of the people he loves. And I know he knows Ellie needs him, you need him. And I…” your voice cracked. “I need him. He’s strong. He can pull through.” 
She nodded and slowly, gently, rested her head on your shoulder. You froze for a moment, not wanting to disturb her. But, eventually, you had to take a breath and she stayed there beside you, keeping vigil over the man who had become her guardian. 
Savvy ended up staying until after dark. Ellie came back only about an hour and a half after she left, bringing some clothes for you. You immediately put on the shirt, pressing your nose to the collar and breathing in Joel’s scent. She told you then that Savvy hadn’t left the clinic since you’d come in, always at your bedside, nearly ripping off the doctors’ heads when they dared suggest that she go home and get some rest. 
Ellie got her to go home that evening, though, after she gave you a delicate hug that, you thought, might be one of the best ones you’d ever gotten. Dr. Livingston wanted to keep you there for another few days, not something you were going to argue with since you weren’t about to leave while Joel was still there, anyway. She did make you move back to the other room and you gave up the fight quickly, waiting until you heard her leave for the night before going back across the hall, anyway. It was tricky, walking on your own when you were still healing, but you made it without any more blood leaking from you. You pulled your chair close to Joel and looked him over, tracing one finger over the soft skin of his cheek. He still looked so unnatural in this position, so unlike himself. You ran your fingers through his hair, arranging it just so, before you gently took his hands and put them at the base of his chest, one on top of the other. Not quite right, but better. It felt like his body was more his that way. 
“I’m here, Joel,” you said quietly, wanting more than anything to be able to curl up in his lap. “I’m here.” 
You sat on the floor next to the bed - not able to get comfortable enough in the chair to doze off - and rested your head on the mattress near his hip. This wasn’t exactly ideal, either, your stitches itching and pulling as you settled in, but you didn’t care. You had to be close to Joel. Some pain was worth that. 
The next day, you were shaken awake by a frustrated Dr. Palmer who was taking over so Dr. Livingston could get some rest. 
“You are bound and determined to be your own worst enemy,” she muttered, forcing you back to your own bed. She checked you over, reluctantly told you that you were healing well with no sign of infection. The second her back was turned, you were back in Joel’s room. 
Ellie, Tommy and Maria came by again, all of you sitting in near silence, watching Joel, waiting for him to do something - anything - to indicate that he was still in there. 
The next day was less quiet. You were in your usual position in the seat by the head of Joel’s bed when Tommy and Ellie started getting into it. It didn’t sound like a new argument and, you realized, the bickering you’d been only vaguely aware of as you regained consciousness was probably them. 
“I’m not going to sit around here and fucking wait forever,” Ellie snapped. “I’m going out there, I’m going to find them and I’m going to kill every last fucking one of them.” 
“We need to wait,” Tommy said, voice strained. Ellie didn’t seem to care. 
“Wait for them to get further and further away?” She snapped. “Wait for them to come back with more people? No, it’s too big of a fucking risk. I’m going out there.” 
“Need to wait until I can go with you,” Tommy snapped. “Need to wait until we know…” 
Tommy’s voice trailed off. 
“Until we know what?” Ellie demanded. “Until we know whether or not they successfully murdered him? No, fuck that, I’m going to beat the shit out of her with a goddamn golf club, make her fucking feel it…” 
“No, you won’t,” you cut her off. 
“I won’t?” She asked, brows raised, almost daring you to argue with her. “You’re not my fucking mom, Bambi, you don’t get to tell me what the fuck I do or don’t get to do.” 
“You ever killed anyone, kid?” You asked, chin resting on your fist as you watched her. She just blinked at you for a moment. “And I mean people. Real people, not infected.” 
“Yeah,” she said, though her voice was less sharp. “Yeah, I have. Two.” 
“Alright,” you replied. “You torture them? You like killing them?” 
She was silent and just looked at her feet.
“That’s what I thought,” you looked back to Joel. “You’re not going after shit, kid…”
“I’m not a fucking kid!” 
“You’re his kid,” you shot her a glare before looking back at Joel. “And he wouldn’t want you murdering and torturing people for him.”
“But…” 
“No,” you said. “If… If he… If someone needs to handle it, it will be me and Tommy. We can take them and we can make it hurt. You’ll stay here. Not gonna just let you turn into a killer for him, he’d never forgive me. He’d never forgive either of us. One of the last things he said to me was to look out for you and you better goddamn well believe that’s exactly what I’m gonna do. You’re not going any damn place.” 
She stormed out but Savvy came that evening. She brought a deck of cards and the two of you played Go Fish like you used to when she was little. She told you Ellie was cooling off but she thought she’d be OK. 
“I don’t blame her,” she said, arranging some cards in her hand. “If someone did that to you, I’d want to kill them, too.” 
You looked at her for a moment. 
“I wouldn’t want you to,” you said gently. She looked at you over the cards, skeptical. “I mean it. You hear that something bad happened to me, you take it and move on. Don’t hurt yourself thinking that will fix it. It would only make it worse.” 
The day after that, Ellie brought you your guitar. It made Dr. Palmer look nervous but you promised to take it easy and that music was how you relaxed. 
“Just don’t get all worked up and play Freebird,” she muttered, leaving you alone with Joel and your instrument. 
“Why is everyone so obsessed with Freebird?” You asked a silent Joel as you delicately arranged the guitar on your lap, dodging the stitches in your stomach and leg as you did. “There’s better shit out there…” 
You played for him whatever came to mind. The song you’d written for him kept cropping up. So did the songs you’d played with him, slower and gentler things that you tried to pull from memory, even Take on Me because it got stuck in your head. 
“Do you think he can hear me?” You asked Dr. Palmer that afternoon. 
She stepped back from him and sighed for a moment, looking at you as though she were going to gauge her answer around your demeanor. 
“No one knows for sure,” she said eventually. “But… if he could hear anybody, I think it would be you.”
By the end of the second day with your guitar, your whole body was sore and tired but you didn’t move to go back to your own room. Both doctors had given up on forcing you. You nearly ripped their heads off when they suggested you go to your house for a day or two, try to get some real rest. It was bad enough that they’d surrendered to your stubborn need to be where you could see Joel at all times, no longer willing to fight over what they thought was better for you. 
It was quiet, dark. You weren’t entirely sure what time it was but you thought everyone in town besides those on watch were at home. You were as close to home as you got now, home could only be where Joel was. You weren’t sure how to find home without him now. 
You played the song you’d written for him one more time, soft and slow, before propping the guitar against the wall and sitting delicately on the edge of the bed, careful to not disturb him. You adjusted his arms a bit, putting them where you knew he would rest them if he could move them on his own. You gently brushed his hair back. His patchy beard was getting long in spots and you wondered if Ellie could bring scissors and a razor the next time she came so you could trim it for him, keep it how he liked. You drew the shirt of his you wore tighter to yourself and just looked at him for a moment. He was so beautiful, even like this. You needed him so badly, needed him to be OK. You needed to be able to wake up next to him again, kiss him on your way out the door again, make love to him again. He couldn’t be gone, not now. Not like this.
“Joel,” you said softly, barely even a whisper. “I know… I know I should probably tell you that if you need to go, it’s OK, that we’ll be OK but… I don’t think I can. I don’t know how to do this without you, I don’t want to do this without you. I need you, I’m not sure I can be a real person without you. If you’re already gone then… then knowing you was one of the best things that ever happened to me and I’m thankful for every goddamn second of it. But if you’re still there, if you can hear me… I need you to come back to me, Joel. Just… please. Don’t leave me, don’t leave the girls, I just… I will do whatever you want, just stay. Just come back to me. Please.” 
He was still below your touch but you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead, anyway, his skin soft and warm. A tear slipped from your eyelash and fell to his cheek but you didn’t move to wipe it away. You had the odd thought that maybe he would absorb it, that his skin would soak up your salt and your sadness and then, even if he didn’t come back, at least he’d have part of you in him when you put him in the ground. You wondered if you’d be able to join him. You slid off the bed and tucked your legs up against yourself, crossing your arms atop the mattress and resting your head there, drifting off to the sound of his breathing. 
***
All Joel really knew was that he was somewhere warm and soft. Warm and soft and kinder than where he’d been before, though the memory of just before was fuzzy. He remembered you, waking up with you, being inside of you, kissing you goodbye. He remembered watching Ellie ride off with her friend for their patrol. He remembered laughing with his brother about something but didn’t remember what. Everything after that was a haze of blood and pain. 
But he was warm now, somewhere that was familiar but he was having a hard time placing it. Grass and trees and a park bench that was more comfortable than it had any right to be, the sound of birds and cicadas on the air. But there were no other people. None that he could see, anyway. 
He heard voices now and then. There were some he knew were familiar but he couldn’t quite place. Others he’d have known anywhere. You, Ellie, Savvy, Tommy, Maria. It was a haze, he could make out the tones and the melodies of your speech but not the words. But that was OK. He knew all of you were close and that was enough. 
There was music, too. He would have recognized your playing from anywhere but it still seemed so obvious from wherever he was. But your music sounded sad, some kind of longing in it that wasn’t there when you usually played for him. He wanted to fix it, wanted to come from wherever he was and make it better. He just wasn’t sure that he could. But he kept hearing the song you made for him. That song was clearer than any other, so present he almost thought it was the version of it you’d recorded for him. But it wasn’t followed by the words he’d come to know so well in the months without you, the ones you’d added to the end of the tape that he listened to every night since you left. Every night until the one you came back to him. 
Come back to me, Joel. 
“Dad?” 
Joel looked around for a moment, heart pounding. He knew that voice, had heard it inside his head so many times through the years. But never like this, never this close. And then Sarah was in front of him, her curls a halo around her head, skin almost glowing in the golden sun. 
“Baby girl.” 
He realized where he knew this place from. It was a park in Austin that he took her to all the time when she was a little girl. The skyline was at his back if he could turn to face it, a playground down the hill to the right. She’d loved the open field, though. She loved being able to just run and run and run with nothing to hold her back. He tried to make himself get to his feet but he couldn’t. She just smiled. It was warm, gentle but more knowing than he’d remembered it being. But then, maybe he’d forgotten. Because otherwise, she looked exactly the same as the last time Joel had seen her, down to the clothes. Except her purple shirt wasn’t bloodstained now, her ankle wasn’t hurt. She was whole, healthy, the way she always should have been.
“Long time no see,” she sat beside him on the bench and he was able to reach her then. He reached for her slowly, cautiously, but he didn’t need to worry. She reached back, putting her arms around his neck. He held her, close and tight. She was warm and soft but the heat wasn’t coming from her. Instead it was like she was part of the place where he was, warm like the sun. She pulled back from him before too long but left a delicate hand on his knee. He tried to memorize her, make sure he knew the precise constellations of her freckles and the way her lashes framed her eyes. She looked him over and smiled that beautiful smile of hers. “You’re getting old, old man.” 
“Yeah,” he laughed a little, still not sure what to say to her. “Yeah, I know, baby girl. I know.” 
“I’ve missed you,” she was still smiling but it was sadder now. “A lot.” 
“I’ve missed you too,” he said, his voice wet. “So, so much. You have no idea how much…” 
“I know,” she said. “I’ve seen. You’ve been through a lot, Dad. So much. I wish I could have been there, I wish I could have helped you.” 
“That’s not your job…” 
“I know,” she said again. “But I still wanted to.” 
“How are you?” He asked. “I want to know everything, everything…” 
“I’ve been good,” she smiled. “I met your friend Tess. I like her. I liked her before, too, but even more now. She’s a lot like you, I’m glad you had her.” 
“How…” 
“Dad, I would love to tell you everything,” she cut him off. “But we don’t have time.” 
He frowned. 
“No,” he shook his head. “No, we didn’t get enough time before, but we should now, we…” 
“We will,” she reached out and took his hands. “Eventually. But not yet. You’ve gotten old, old man, but not old enough. You’re not supposed to be here yet. You still have a lot to do. You have people who need you, people who love you. They really, really love you, Dad. You need to go back for them. You’ve been here long enough.” 
Don’t leave me.
He looked up, looking for where your voice was coming from. Sarah just smiled. 
“She needs you,” she said. “And you need her.” 
She was right. He could feel that in every inch of him. He wanted to be next to you, wanted the life that he could have with you that had been so close when he’d left Jackson that morning. Just you and him and your girls. He wanted it so much it hurt. But how could he leave his daughter? His baby girl, the first baby girl he’d held, the first one he’d failed. How could he leave her again?
“Baby girl, I love them, too but I can’t just leave you here alone…” 
She smiled gently. 
“I’m not alone, Dad. And it’s OK if I’m not your whole world anymore,” she gave his leg a squeeze. “It’s OK if you have another purpose. I want you to be happy. Her, Ellie, Savvy… they make you happy. They’re your purpose now. You deserve that. Go be happy. I’ll be here when you’re done. We’ll have time then, too. I promise.” 
Just stay. 
“Go be with them, Dad,” she said. “Go be happy. We’ll be together when it’s time.” 
Just come back to me.
“I love you so much, Sarah,” he said, reaching out and holding her face in his hand. “So, so much.” 
Please. 
“I know,” she smiled. “And I love you too.” 
There was a wet spot on his cheek but he wasn’t crying. He frowned, touching his skin there, a tear clinging to his finger when he pulled it away. The place he was glowed brighter. Sarah’s face was somehow further away though neither of them had moved. He could feel himself fading from here, going back to where he was before. Part of him hurt with that, clinging to Sarah so hard that it seemed as though he was going to leave that part of him behind. But the rest of him was bringing him back, desperate to get to you, be beside you. That’s where he was supposed to be. He knew that now. He was always supposed to live. He was always supposed to flinch. He was always supposed to find you. 
“I’ll see you around,” she said. “Take care of yourself. Take care of them. I love you.” 
“I love you, too.” 
He didn’t have a chance to say goodbye.
Everything hurt. 
It was sudden and sharp, the place where he was abruptly dark and cold. He wasn’t sure he could move much, every part of him impossibly heavy. But he forced his eyes open, at least. He was flat on his back and in a bed. It took him a moment to realize where, but the fact that there was medical equipment near his head narrowed it down. He heard a soft, sleepy sound and forced himself to lift his head enough to look for it. It didn’t take him long to find you there, head resting near his waist. He smiled to himself. Part of him was just relieved that he hadn’t dreamed you coming back to him, relieved that you’d want anything to do with him at all now. 
He forced his arm to move, the limb unnaturally clunky, every motion pulling and tugging on damaged skin but he didn’t really care. He rested a hand on your head, smoothing your hair down, thumb brushing against your forehead. You startled and jerked awake, sitting up quickly and blinking sleep from your eyes. His hand fell to your arm when you did and looked around for a moment before your eyes fell on him, the glow of the moon on the snow illuminating your face in the dark. You frowned for a moment, your brows knitting together. 
“Hey sweetheart,” Joel managed, his voice dry and cracking. 
“Joel!” You scrambled to your feet, taking his hand and clinging to it as you did. “You’re here, you’re alive, you’re…” 
“I’m alright, baby,” he said gently. You sank slowly onto the bed at his waist, clutching onto his hand. “You OK?” 
“I’m OK,” you nodded quickly, your voice wet. “Tommy’s OK, Ellie’s OK, we’re all OK. I was so afraid, Joel. I was so afraid. I thought you were gone, I thought I lost you…” 
“I know,” he winced as he reached the hand you weren’t latched onto over to cup your face. “I’m so sorry, baby. Wasn’t tryin’ to go anywhere…” 
You lifted his hand to your lips and kissed his knuckles before holding his arm to your chest, clinging to it like a child does to a security blanket. 
“How are you feeling?” You asked, looking him up an down. “I can go wake up a doctor and…” 
“M’fine sweetheart,” he said, brushing a thumb over the arch of your cheekbone. “Don’t… don’t go anywhere, need you close. Just…” He did his best to shift himself so he wasn’t in the middle of the bed, wincing as he did. “Just be here. Let me hold you, OK?” 
“I don’t want to hurt you…” 
“You won’t,” he said gently. “Need to feel you. Just stay with me, baby. Please.” 
You sniffed but nodded before you moved gingerly to slip into bed beside him. You lay your head gently on his chest and he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, giving you a squeeze. It took a moment but he felt you relax against him, body molding to his own. He turned his head enough to brush his lips against your forehead. 
“I can’t lose you, Joel,” you said softly. “I can’t, I need you to stay.” 
“I’m here, baby,” he whispered, holding you as close as he could, everywhere your body met his a welcome distraction from the pain. “Not going anywhere.” 
Next Chapter
A/N: Yeah, sorry, I can't bring myself to kill Joel lol I love him too much, I need to let him have all the beautiful things he deserves to have.
Thank you so so much for being so patient with this chapter. I promise, I didn't intend to leave you hanging for weeks on end and I feel so bad that I did. Thank you for still reading and for being here. I feel like I've messed up a lot on how I've handled this fic lately - between not understanding how many folks didn't know the TLOU2 stuff and not giving proper warning and then posting that last chapter and not having this one lined up and ready to go - so thank you for not ditching me and this fic. It really does mean so much that you spend your time here with these characters.
Thank you again ❤️ Love you!
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gavisfanta · 1 month
Note
gavi smut while the reader is on her period?
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SOULTIE - GAVI
summary: the request pretty much explains it
a/n: its not that detailed cause i think this is a bit weird so its short!
warnings: smut 18+
You were just on your way to your boyfriends game. You were walking through the tunnel and as you finally reached your seat you sat down.
Camp Nou was beautiful, as always. However, as soon as you spotted Gavi, you couldn't take your eyes off of him.
You didn't say ut out loud often, but you absolutely loved him, every part of him. He was perfect in your eyes.
Everything he did made you just fall more and more in love with him.
You absolutely adored everything about him.
His family often told you two that you two are soulmates and are meant for eachother.
You smiled while Gavi kicked the ball and scored a goal. You jumped up and celebrated immediately.
He ran over the field and sent a kiss to you.
You smiled as you watched him celebrate with his teammates. Gavi then pointed up at you and that also made the others look up at you.
He then formed a heart with his hands again.
"He really loves you huh?" Anna said who was sitting next to you.
"I hope so." You laughed and then kept watching the game.
As the game was over, you waited for Gavi in his car. He has given you the car keys in prior so that you could sit in there and wait.
You had small cramps which made it a bit uncomfy to sit the whole time but you managed to survive until Gavi came back.
It was the first day of your period and the first day was always the worst one.
"Hey mi amor." Gavi sat into the drivers seat and cupped your face and kissed you immediately.
"Hey" You smiled as soon as he pulled away but kept looking at you.
"You look beautiful in my jersey." He started pulling at the material of the jersey you were wearing.
"Did you see the goal I scored for you?" He then asked as he brought his hand up to your cheek, caressing it with his thumb.
"Of course I saw it." You smiled and his lips also curled up into a smile.
"I'm glad." He then turned to start the car and drove home.
His hand stayed on your inner tigh the entire time, drawing small circles into your skin.
After you two arrived home you felt some pretty big and painful cramps from your stomach.
Gavi noticed that the way you walk in has changed. He raised his eyebrows immediately and gave you a look.
"Are you okay Cariño?" Gavi asked and opened the door for you to get inside. You moved inside the house and took off your shoes. You just wanted to get into bed st this point.
"I'm just having some pretty bad cramps so I'll go upstairs and I'll head off to sleep." Gavi stayed silent while you told him about the cramps and he immediately knew that it was his turn to take care of you now.
But after Gabi joined you to sleep too, you still couldn't shut your eyes. It was too bad.
So you thought of something that may release the tension.
"Gavi, I have an idea." You turned to face him and he raised his eyebrows. "What if we have sex," You said and he sat up.
"During your period?" His eyes widened a bit and then a small smile made its way to his face.
"Por favor Gavi." You pleaded as you were now sitting on top of his waist. You leaned forward to kiss his neck and then ran your hand down his body.
"Are you sure, it'll be worse for you then for me." Gavi smiled a bit while he leaned into your toch and you sat up immediately.
"I mean, it's something new, come on." You got off of him and laid down next to him while opening your legs, you were still wearing your panties as he stood in front of you.
You were horny the whole time while you were on your period and you always let Gavi know.
On that very day you wanted to ask him if he wanted to try out something new and sleep with you while you were on your period.
"I'll help you clean the sheets after." Gavi mumbled while he walked over to the bathroom in his boxershorts to grab a towel and he put it under your ass and legs.
"Thank you" You mumbled and pulled Gavi closer to you, he attached his lips to yours and then he opened your bra. Then his fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties and pulled them down slowly.
Then he pulled away and looked at your entrance. "You look like some kind of valentines day present." Gavi laughed and started to take off his boxers too.
"That's so nasty." You laughed out and then watched as Gavis hard dick springs out of his boxershorts and hit his lower abdomen.
"Keep your legs open for me hermosa." Gavi then alined himself with you and kissed your neck.
"Mhm" You hummed and just a few minutes later you felt him stretch your pussy out as you were clenching around him."God you're even tighter like this." Gavi groaned as he pushed his length fully into you and have you some time to adjust.
You felt everything ten times more detailed and you felt his dick poking your stomach as you arched your back.
"Okay, start moving." You told him and he nodded his head. He slowly started to pull out of you and you saw that his dick was a bit covered in blood.
"This is so kinky." Gavi laughed a bit and you nodded your head.
"This actually creates a soul tie, so make sure to fuck me good." You told him and he just leaned forward and then started thrusting into you.
Skin clapping, loud moans and wet noises filled the room as Gavi thrusted into you at the fastest pace he probably ever has.
"Fuck." He breathed in deeply as he leaned down to kiss your neck. "You're so tight."
You were unable to speak with how good he was fucking you, you could have came any second and Gavi noticed how tensed up you were.
"I'm about to cum too, let go." He gave you a reassuring look and then you let your orgasm wash over you while he came at the same time.
You whimpered after he pulled out of you and then pushed his cum back into your pussy with his fingers.
You clenched around his fingers since your pussy was still very sensitive. Gavi laughed while he looked up at you.
"You want to shower princesa?" Your boyfriend asked as he lesned over you and pressed a long and passionate kiss on your lips.
You hummed. "Mhm"
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Text
square one.
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summary: when carmen left for new york, he also left you. now he's back, unannounced, and no matter how angry you are at him... there's a small part of you that wants to see him again.
pairing: carmen berzatto x female reader
warnings: angst. cursing.
Masterlist
-----
you and carmen used to learn how to draw together. you'd watch classes from outside the shop because none of you could afford the actual class, and mrs. kendra was kind enough to let you two kids join in for free. under the condition that you'd help clean up, of course, but that was worth it.
as you grew up it was harder to see each other when you're both so focused on your careers, and the fact that your schedules never matched didn't help either.
you still kept in touch by texting each other, carmen made sure you always sent him a picture of your breakfast, lunch, and dinner because somehow you always miss a meal. but that also eventually stopped because you'd forget to take a picture and he'd forget to reply.
in fact, carmen stopped replying altogether. he disappeared one day. when you finally went to the beef to look for carmen, mikey told you carmen had left for new york.
he didn't even say goodbye.
-----
years after that -- after mikey's funeral, after the beef shut down, after it reopened to the bear... you wonder if you should go find him again. sugar has always told you to come visit, but she knows it's not that easy.
you've always had feelings for him, and part of you knows that he definitely knows. it's so obvious.
so did he choose to ignore it? all those years, was he just pretending that he didn't know?
standing in front of the bear, it seems ridiculous now to look for him. what are you going to say anyway?
"hey carm, it's nice to see you again."
"hey carm, why did you leave?"
"fuck you carmen."
"carmen."
"carmen!" you hear sugar's voice shout his name from the backdoor. you immediately hide behind a wall. they're arguing about something, and you're not sure why you're not already leaving.
maybe because you want to hear his voice. after years. maybe.. maybe you miss him. just a little.
there's so many questions you want to ask, so many things you want to tell him, but you don't know where to start.
"i'll call him back later."
and then there it is. your breath hitches when you hear his voice, and the little girl inside you decide to peek your head out to see him.
has he changed? is his hair different? is he dressed different? does he have the same tired look in his eyes? is he smiling more often?
there's a sense of longing when you see that he kept his curls and still has his naturally built stature. you vividly remember how it feels to be in his arms.
maybe you've been staring too long, because carmen can sense a pair of eyes staring at him and has begun turning his head. you manage to turn away just in time.
that was close.
your heart is beating fast, and you curse yourself for feeling this way. the same way you feel when he scolded you for not eating properly and then fixing you a meal.
the same way you feel when he used to help you out with drawings because he's just so good at it.
the same way you feel when he's just staring at you with a small smile on his face.
they're all just memories now.
you sigh and push yourself off the wall, walking home because you're too scared to confront him.
another day.
-----
you own a small boutique not far from the bear. it's not that hard to miss, especially since you're pretty famous for making custom shirts, dresses, jackets, all that stuff. especially for richie.
"hey cubby!" richie calls out. cubby, or cub, is the nickname mikey had given you the moment you couldn't separate from carmen when you were kids. a bear cub.
you walk to the front and see richie with a new, bright white button down shirt. looks real nice. "how can i help you, richie?"
"got a new shirt for a hot date. think you can help me shorten the sleeves a little bit?" he asks.
"of course. need this by tonight?" you ask before his phone rings.
"yep, you have my measurements, right?" he winks before taking the call. "oh, can you also drop it off by the bear? thanks, you're a doll, bye!"
you can't even protest because richie is long gone. sighing, you started working on the piece of clothing. richie's doing it in purpose, of course, he saw you yesterday peeking around the corner and he had to do something.
richie's shirt didn't even take you an hour to fix. to be honest it didn't even need fixing, richie was just being dramatic and playing cupid.
it's 3pm, and you know that the bear is probably empty right now. you could go, drop the shirt off, grab a sandwich to go and just leave.
yeah.
you can totally do that. it's fast, easy, and you won't run into carmen. definitely won't.
"cousin!"
you clench your jaw once you're one step into the restaurant. for once carmen isn't in the kitchen, he's by the cashier writing something down for richie to remember later.
"honestly, why is he always gone when i need him-" carmen's mutters stop when he sees you frozen in place.
how should you play this?
feign innocence? pretend like you never knew he's back from new york? or get angry and tell him you're hurt? fuck, doesn't that sound so petty and childish?
silently taking a deep breath, you walk to the cashier and hand him richie's nicely folded shirt. "hey. give this to richie, will you? thanks."
"o-oh. sure."
you turn to leave.
is he going to stop you? call your name? maybe once you're outside. once you're a few steps away, he's gonna call you and tell you to wait. he should, right? he will, right?
you keep hoping he's going to care, even if that means just giving you a second glance while you're walking out, but there's nothing. you're already back in your boutique and you realize carmen didn't even bother to.. do anything, really.
he just doesn't care about you that way.
-----
why did you have richie's shirt?
are you with richie now? casually? something more serious?
why did you have his shirt?
are you happy with richie?
why are you with richie?
"carmen!"
"what?!" he turns his head to sugar who's frowning at him worriedly.
she takes the knife in his hands and put them away. "what the hell were you thinking about?"
carmen sees the blood on the cutting board and curses. "nothing."
"wasn't nothing if you didn't even realize you'd cut yourself."
carmen washes his cut finger and pats it gently with a cloth. sugar helps him bandage the cut. she looks at him and sees he's still in distress. "is this about cubby?"
"what?" carmen frowns, almost forgetting the nickname mikey gave you. "no."
"carmen."
"it's not."
"stop denying it."
he looks away. "...she was here today."
sugar's eyes widen in surprise. "really? what was she doing here?"
"came to return richie's shirt." he says, chest tight. "didn't know they're together."
sugar wants to punch richie right now. "they're not."
"i dunno, seemed that way."
"believe me, they're not." sugar sighs. "i know her."
carmen frowns. it sounded like sugar was trying to poke a certain topic. "and i don't?"
"carm," she deadpans. "you disappeared on her. you really think she can be all chirpy when she sees you like.. what, almost 7 years later?"
his turn to sigh. "no, yeah. you're-you're right. she deserves to be happy."
"yes, she does." sugar emphasizes. "so what are you gonna do about it?"
-----
today seems particularly longer than any other day. you're bringing home a few yards of fabric to finish a client's requested dress, and you know it's gonna be a long night.
you just closed the shop and are about to leave when you see carmen standing nearby, hands in his pocket, a cigarette between his lips. he takes another drag before putting it out when he sees you.
he's facing you now, and you're not sure what to do. or what he wants.
carmen sees your uncomfortable expression and curses at himself. maybe he shouldn't have done this after all. he can just leave- no. don't do that.
"aren't you going to say anything?" you ask, not looking at him.
carmen feels like he's being pushed into a corner and gulps. "i... i don't really know what to say..."
anger bubbles up inside you. "well then what the fuck are you doing here? if you're not here to explain how you-" you stop yourself from going further. you're not going to let him know that you've been thinking about him for all this time.
"forget it." you sigh and walk away.
"no, wait." carmen chases after you. "i just... fuck, i'm not good with words, okay? i don't know how to say it."
"yeah? maybe leave for another 7 years and see if you can figure that out."
carmen stays silent and that angers you even more. you smile bitterly, "you know what, let me make it easier for you this time."
"goodbye, carmen."
-----
part 2 is OUT
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stormberry-12 · 2 months
Text
faceless // P4: are you ugly? ~ charles leclerc x reader
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pairing: charles leclerc x fem!driver!reader
includes/authors notes: language, lack of equal rights/ gender equality, readers an unknown figure in the races, fem!reader's gender assumed as male, use of "y/n".
Bold Italics are the past.
Normal Italics are thoughts.
summary: "There is a new mysterious driver on the grid. Nobody knows who he is, the only thing we know is that he races for Red Bull with the number 66. Other drivers call him the faceless driver for none have ever seen his face or heard him speak. The faceless driver is a legend in the making and even giving Lewis Hamilton and Max Verstappen a run for their money…”
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Tears streamed down your cheeks as you sat alone in a medical room, sure you had wanted to reveal your identity eventually but this was too much to handle all in one day. You could sense the awkwardness of the doctors who had come to perform tests on you, they were polite but curt. A nice nurse offered you some tissues but no one uttered more than 5 words to you, probably still processing it themselves.
You pulled out your phone, there was no doubt Charles knew, he was out of his car even before you were, probably watching televised on hundreds of screens around him. 
He hadn't tried to contact you. 
You didn't blame him.
However, you did have hundreds of notifications from other people and F1 Instagram pages tagging your private account and spreading the news worldwide.
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A knock on the door frame made you jump, "You're free to go miss, as long as you have no more neck pain."
"Thank you," you replied, not looking the doctor in the eyes, and climbing out of the bed.
"Take the pain meds twice a day, for your wrist and neck, don't over-exert yourself. Have a good day."
'Have a good day.'
You walked out of the medical center with your belongings, walking to the parking lot, not planning on going back to the Red Bull garage. You couldn't care less what Christian thought about this whole thing and would probably receive a very heavily worded email from him later tonight.
The sky was dark, you must have been in there for a while. The lights from the posts shone down on the many expensive cars that the drivers had driven to the race.
Charles's car was gone.
"Fuck me," you cursed, the tears had returned along with shooting pain up the side of your neck. You called an Uber, waiting in the crisp air and wiping the tears off your face. The world seemed wobbly as you scanned your surroundings, letting reality hit harder and harder every time you thought about the day you just had.
You looked across the parking lot to see Yuki getting into his car. He shot you a small smile and wave. "Fuck is a fun word. And you have a cool helmet by the way,"
"YUKIII!" Pierre screamed, running over to the car drawing both of your attention. "I'm driving,"
"No!"
"Yes."
They argued for about 20 seconds before Yuki hopped in the passenger seat. Pierre then noticed you, giving you a thumbs up and a knowing smile before hopping in the car.
God, word spread fast. 
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You and Charles settled onto the couch, cozy blankets draped over your laps, snuggled up next to each other. Tonight's choice? The Office. It was a show you both adored, somehow whenever you watched it it always managed to lift your spirit. With a bowl of popcorn between your legs, you hit play, and the familiar theme song filled the room. You nestled into Charles's side, feeling the comforting warmth of his presence.
"Guess what, I have flaws. What are they? Oh, I don't know. I sing in the shower. Sometimes I spend too much time volunteering. Occasionally I'll hit somebody with my car. So sue me." Michael Scott's voice rang from the speakers.
"Oh my god," Charles chuckled. "I can't with this show,"
As the credits rolled, you turned to Charles, a contented smile playing on his lips. "I love nights like this," you whispered.
"Me too," Charles replied, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Especially when I'm with you."
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The door to your apartment creaked as you opened it slowly, the hum of the airconditioning filled your ears and and hit you with a cold blast that sent shivers down your spine. You tossed your backpack on the floor and braced yourself for all of the outcomes that could happen next.
'What if he breaks up with me?' Flashed in the back of your mind as one of the possibilities that made your stomach ache. He was sitting on the couch, gaze not leaving the TV, but you could see his shoulders tense as your footsteps entered the room.
"Charles, we need to talk," you said softly, your voice barely audible over the blasting TV and loud voices outside the thin wall. 
He ignored you coldly, grabbing his plate off the side table and walking towards the kitchen. 
"Oh come on, Charles! Jesus, listen to me, I can explain!" you cried, following him around the apartment until he finally turned to face you, his eyes were broken. 
"Explain..."
"Yes-"
"Explain? You've been racing alongside me all this time, pretending to be just another driver, while I've been completely in the dark about who you are! You lied to me!" he spoke, voice cracking and eyes watering.
"Charles I-"
"Like holy shit!" Charles's voice trembled as he continued to word vomit his feelings like he always did. "You were the faceless driver. The one everyone speculated about, and-"
"Charles, I didn't want to lie to you. I just... I never wanted my identity to overshadow my abilities on the track. I wanted to be known for my skill, not my gender or boyfriend's name." You sighed heavily, hands trembling slightly, head pounding.
"You didn't think I deserved to know? We're in a relationship, Y/n. We're supposed to trust each other!" Charles's voice grew louder, his words cutting through the air, making you feel small.
"It was in my contract Charles, I couldn't tell anyone-"
"Why would you sign your life away like that? Red Bull was taking advantage of you but you were too stupid and blinded by all the secrets you had to keep-" he hissed.
"Oh my god! Why are you being such a dick? I came up with half my contract rules, I didn't want to tell anybody!" you held your neck as it ached.
"You told Lando,"
"No, I didn't. I never meant for him to find out!" you yelled, well tried to, as you found it harder and harder to catch your breath. "And do not bring Lando into this, he's your teammate and friend-"
"But he knew before I did! He kept secrets from me too," he complained. "And you had your little waves out on track and everything, don't bring Lando into this my ass. I hate how you realized you could trust him but couldn't think of anyone else in your life that you might be able to trust. Someone who might deserve to know. Was there no one else Y/n? No one else that you spent hours of the day with, that had trusted you with all of his problems? No one that loved you so much and would support you no matter what-"
"Charles-" you choked out, guilt overtaking you.
"This is so wild, I can't believe this day is real," he mumbled and you weren't sure if he was referencing the fact that you were a driver or the fact that you had left him in the dark and damaged the strong relationship you had. Probably both.
You sighed and rubbed a hand over your face, you felt like you were going to puke. You pushed past Charles and shuffled to the bathroom slamming the door behind you. You heard Charles call after you but his words were drowned out by the pounding and ringing in your ears. 
As you leaned over the toilet vomiting you felt your hair being pulled away from your face and a hand placed firmly on your back. You knelt there for a while, his fingertips traced up and down your spine until you pulled away to splash your face with water.
You slid back down to the floor leaning against the sink. You hugged your knees to your chest, not wanting to feel the cold tiles on the back of your legs any longer, as your boyfriend sat across from you quietly. Charles hesitated, his eyes locked with yours. The weight of the words you yelled at each other hung heavy in the air. His foot grazed yours softly and you both looked down at your matching socks that you un-intentionally wore on the same day.
"Are you okay?" he whispered.
"Yeah. They told me I didn't have a concussion..."
"That's bullshit. And the wrist?"
You looked down at your bandaged hand, "Sprained."
He hummed in acknowledgment, "They did a shit job at that too, can a re-wrap it for you?"
You nodded and he skooted closer, taking your arm gently in his hands. He unwrapped the tenser bandage around your wrist and you winced, Charles whispered an apology, examining your bruises and swelling.
"Jesus, love," he wrapped the bandage around you once more, neat and tidy, securing it tightly. He looked up meeting your eyes with an unreadable expression, fingers still grazing your bandaged wrist. "Lando had more than one secret he was keeping from me,"
"What?" you croaked.
Charles closed his eyes and rubbed a hand over his face, "He's leaving. His contract was only for a year to try out a new team..."
You stared at Charles in shock before he continued. "He misses Mclaren, and of course Zack misses him. So yeah," Charles laughed but no humor filled his face, "I'll be saying goodbye to yet another awesome teammate that I've considered a brother."
"I'm so sorry Charlie," you whispered, linking your hand with his. You knew how hard it was for him when Carlos left, they didn't speak as much anymore, and you could always see the pain in Charles' eyes whenever Carlos brushed him off with a rushed wave in the paddock.
"God, I've got to stop being so sensitive and annoying," He sighed.
"No, your empathy, understanding, and awareness are some of my favorite things about you," you smiled softly at his blush.
"But I wasn't very understanding to you," he whispered and you felt your heart pinch.
You were about to respond, countering his statement with the truth that you were so terribly sorry and pissed at yourself for everything, when your phone rang pulling you from the moment. Looking down at the screen you stared at Christian Horner's name as it buzzed.
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