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callsignfangs · 5 months

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The 141 boys as widowers. (bc i feel like torturing myself /j)

141 x late (implied) spouse! reader

cws: grief, mentions of loss, implied alcoholism/alcohol as a coping mechanism, mentions self-destructive behaviour, very brief mention of addiction, etc (Please lmk if I've missed anything!)

(Note: This little drabble is a little self indulgent, a bit about my own journey with grief. Each little 'story' thing does end with acceptance. Please don't read if you're not in the right headspace, and remember that you're loved and you're not alone, and make sure to reach out if you need help <3)

Price is the one inclined to bargaining. Maybe he could've done something - what if he'd taken a bit more time off work, what if he spent more time with you, what if he'd agreed to retire early with you, what if he was there? Ironically enough - he just ends up drowning himself in more work, probably turns to smoking or alcohol in an attempt to drown everything out.

141, Gaz and Soap especially, will definitely be the only thing he holds on for. As capable as they all are, he couldn't just up and leave his boys without a captain - he couldn't make the same mistake over again, they gave him something to care for, to nurture and to look after.

I don't think he'll ever marry again - just making half-hearted attempts to peek into the dating scene whenever leave got especially lonely. He'd never be able to find anyone quite like you, so he eventually stopped bothering with it, finding warmth and comfort in himself and the other people he loved.

He keeps a photo of you, one of your handwritten notes, and any little trinket you'd given him at all times. Saved every single snippet of you talking he could - even still paying off your phone bill occasionally ringing your phone to hear your voicemail message, maybe sending you texts when things got especially hard. Definitely does chores the exact way you always did - from the time you went out to shop in the morning to how you stacked dishes. Loves hot showers but still takes a lukewarm one each morning because your habit of taking cold showers meant the water was never hot enough for him. I think he probably adopts something after the rough edges of the hole you'd left in his heart smoothed over.

It wasn't intentional in the slightest - maybe a stray cat had clung to his pant leg while he was on a hike or the task force managed to pick up an orphaned little kid on one of their excursions. He's very hesitant with them, still not quite trusting himself with caring for another being. But he warms up to them eventually. No matter human or animal, they've definitely been brought to your gravesite once or twice.

Maybe it would be alright, eventually. He'd at least have something interesting to entertain you with the next life he found you.

Soap is definitely in denial. Convinces himself it's a mistake - that when deployment's finally over, he'll trudge home, kick off his boots, and be met by his sweet love, bouncing at his heels like an overeager puppy and lathering his face in flittering little kisses. He still avoids coming home like the plague - resorts to anything from taking on way too many missions, to picking up another job on the side, even to staying in hotels as if he was in some sort of covert op.

He'd be forced to go back to your house eventually, though. Not home, it wasn't home without you there. Just the same four walls and roof he camped out in on deployment. Nothing warm or special about it.

He still pretended, though. Made your bed every morning the way you liked it and prepared meals for two every day.

While Price and Ghost undoubtedly pulled him out of his slump, Gaz was the person who really started him on the road to acceptance. Having the boys over near constantly was soothing, giving him something to occupy his mind with and overshadowing the cold emptiness of the house. The occasional cuddle piles and game nights reminded him of the warmth of their bond - like the nights they spent on stakeouts, letting their own sweet joy shield them from the brutal realities of their situation.

Gaz was the first person he cried to. Soap couldn't bear the way his buzzed sides were starting to fluff out, but he'd slowly gotten used to letting your gentle hands preen him and tidy him up. Of course, Gaz had noticed, and of course, he'd insisted that Soap just had to let him have a go at doing up someone else's hair. Soap didn't know when he'd devolved into tears - somewhere between the first gentle touch he'd felt in weeks and the crippling realisation that you'd never be there to do it again.

Either way, he'd managed to cry himself to sleep in Gaz's arms that night. He continued to sob himself away for weeks, filling each day with tears.

Until each day turned into each few.

And each few turned into once a week.

And slowly, his tears dried up.

It was an arduous process, grieving. But he stubbornly forced through it, just as he'd forced his way into your heart.

And he did his very best not to change. He determinedly kept the mohawk - even used the same shampoo because it made his hair feel perfectly fluffy under your touch. He did his best to continue being his perky, bubbly self, because he knew how you practically basked in his energy.

However, he still let himself grow, let his hawk grow out so he could braid it the way he'd always considered, and he let himself have his bad days, didn't force himself to keep up his energy when he didn't really have enough.

Admittedly, though, he never married again. He found temporary enjoyment in little flings, though he let them pass when the time was right. No matter what, he always came back to your house.

Sure, it wasn't quite home without you there. But you'd been there - no matter how little the time you'd had together felt in hindsight - so maybe he could learn to make it home again. For you.

Gaz is angry - furious to the point of enraged tears. If it was him? He'd understand. He'd hurt people, torn apart lives and taken his fair share of them. He deserved it. But you? It wasn't fair. In his eyes, you couldn't possibly hurt a fly, so delicate and tender and so, so soft. It just wasn't fair.

His attempt at coping is to delve headfirst into a tedious slew of missions - one after another after another. It gives him something to dump all his blind rage and hurt and desperation into. His morals were a writhing, flailing, unrecognisable mess for a long time, and the best comfort he could find was in the chaotic monotony of work.

So what if he burned everything in his path to ash? At least the threat was dealt with.

Price and Ghost are the most essential to his recovery. He needs guidance, needs some sort of structure, and needs to relinquish the tight hold on his need to be good, to fix things, to help, to finally restore what he was so reliant on, even if that meant tearing himself to shreds in the process. What he needs is time to grieve, time to come to terms with the unforgiving reality - that it just happened. No-one did anything wrong, there was no violence or intent, it just happened.

He'll absolutely come to deeply regret everything he did in his grief-induced warpath, but eventually accept that he was hurt and lost and just needed the help - the intervention.

Like Price, I think he might attempt to put himself out there and find someone new every once in a while, maybe even builds up to a couple dates, but he never really finds interest in anyone. He definitely remains friends with many of the people he meets, but he just can't quite find a spark - mainly because they're not you.

He never throws out anything of yours, his wardrobe is still mostly full of random articles of your clothing, and the third drawer on the nightstand is still yours.

He always wears something of yours when he goes out, from shirts and shorts to hoodies, even some of your jewelry.

Despite it being admittedly pretty late, he finally watches all of the shows you liked and reads all the books you did. It makes him feel closer to you - cuddling up under your favourite blanket in your favourite spot and picturing you being there with him, imagining each and every one of your reactions, practically seeing your lovely face curl with smiles as you commentated over the whole thing.

Sure, you weren't really there with him anymore, but the sweet, warm mark you'd left on his heart was enough to carry him over until he inevitably returned to you.

Ghost is mostly depressed. He's so agonisingly hurt and lost, but you were his sun - what gave him life and love, and without you? He just couldn't muster up the energy to do anything beyond simply existing. Even he'd expected himself to crash and burn - follow in his brother's footsteps and drown in a spiral of addiction. But he just... Didn't. The affirmation that he didn't blow up and take everyone he loved down with him would be reassuring, comforting, but it wasn't. Not without you whispering praise in his ear, assuring him of his goodness and softness.

I think he'd also be reliant on Soap and Gaz, but Price would be a surprisingly big factor as well. No-one could ever really replicate the effect you had on him, the way your encouragement kept him going, but having some amount of structure, of motivation? It helped. Despite that, he absolutely tried to push them out at first, convinced that the acrid shadow of death looming over his shoulder would eventually take them as well. What are task force 141 if not determined and unfathomably stubborn, though, especially when it came to caring for their own.

Soap undoubtedly led the charge - seeing as his ceaseless energy and affection were mildly more normal (god knows Simon needed a little bit of comforting normalcy). Gaz came second, still snarky and headstrong as ever, but with softened edges and an air of gentle care. Price was last. He'd been there before Simon was Ghost, he was aware enough to piece bits of his past together - and he'd be damned if he managed to scare Simon, if he was the reason he regressed further. So he was tender. Delicate, even. Ghost would despise being handled like fragile porcelain in Price's kid gloves, but it soothed a part of Simon that hadn't peeked out since you left.

It'll take a bit longer than the others - more therapy, reassurance and care, but he'll recover eventually, let the wound you left in his porous heart scar over and go on as best he could.

I don't think he'll look for romance again either - his interest in it just died out alongside you. He wants to preserve the sanctity and tenderness of what you had, and is more than content with holding that love in his heart, and keeping it safe for you until he meets you again.

After you're gone, he attempts to follow your advice more, occasionally dragging himself out of his comfort zone, picking up new hobbies and trying to emulate your passion for life in himself, keeping a little bit of you alive with him. He absolutely douses the house in your favourite fragrance, refuses to use any hygiene products other than yours and carries something of yours everywhere, whether it be your ring or even your purse, just something to remind him he had to look after things (including himself) for you.

Even if you were cremated or buried in some other way, he'd ensure there was a gravestone for you placed alongside his mother, Tommy, Beth and little Joseph. You'd always be part of his family - his heart, and when his time came? He'd be buried alongside you, trailing along with you into whatever came next. By your side forever.

Yippee. This was. A journey. /lh

Sorry if this isn't formatted the best, it was more of a massive brain dump that I forcibly shoved into something just about understandable lol

If you're seeing this, tyvm for reading mwah 😚😚

#task force 141 #tf 141 #141 x reader #angst #angst with like. acceptance?#grief #tw grief #dead reader #141 boys being sad #i maybe cried a little when writing this.#just a little #(i wept)#(multiple times)#brain dump #fangs drabbles

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camaro-and-smokes · 1 month

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Get Out of My Dreams, Get Into My Car

Tags for this chapter: hey some more angst, a guy who may look like Jason Carver but isn't him / Moodboard by the lovely @a-redharlequin 💜

Summary: Billy tries to connect with his date and Steve tries to work his way through and past his emotions.

Read on AO3 >>

::::::::::

The water hitting Billy's back from the showerhead was hot, making him hiss at the first contact. His back was killing him, he'd probably lifted something at work with his back and then done a movement wrong in the aerobics class. Hot shower was the quickest relief for the pain since he didn't want to be aching throughout the date he'd have later tonight.

Jason, his date, was one of the few men who came to his aerobics classes at the dance studio, and a successful real estate agent. So much so that even when Billy and Rob hadn't yet totally fallen apart, when the other instructors at the studio heard Jason had asked him on a date, all of them had told him to dump Rob. Yes, Jason was good looking with his blue eyes, great physique and a million-dollar smile. He looked like a sculpture in his aerobics gear and Billy wouldn't deny it; he'd been shamelessly looking.

They'd talked here and there around the classes and now that Rob was gone and all his unrequited feelings for Steve were becoming too much, Billy had finally agreed to Jason's open invitation for a date.

He was flattered by the attention Jason was giving him, encouraging words about the workouts, always something nice to say about his looks—and Jason had even waited until he was finally willing to try dating again. He just didn't exactly know what could a car mechanic and a real estate agent would have in common. But he hoped that if nothing else, this date would open him up a little to new possibilities and give him new things to think about.

Because last night and how it ended had occupied his thoughts the whole day.

Steve had slipped out the door in the morning before Billy could say half a word to him and ask about why he suddenly called it a night after he’d told him about the date. And why he suddenly behaved so differently, and fuck, he would've wanted to ask about the panties, too. He'd tried to avoid that discussion on purpose, but now it seemed impossible not to talk it through.

Billy still felt like shit when he thought about how the expression on Steve's face had fallen at his announcement of the date. He'd thought that Steve would be supportive of him finally moving on. His first thought had been that Steve was angry and worried about having to find a new place to stay—but it didn't fit. The whole time Steve had been living with him, he'd been telling him to get out there and date again. But apparently it wasn't as straightforward when the moment itself arrived.

He let out a sigh when the water started to cool, telling him he'd spent all the hot water. The bathroom was full of steam when he turned the shower off and reached for the towel on the hook, stepping out of the shower. He stood in front of the mirror and wiped the steam from it, looking at his reflection. Even though he should be happy about the date, that someone was interested in him, he couldn't help but to feel a little sad, too.

Jason wasn't who he would've wanted to go on a date with right now. But he was the second best right option, and that had to do.

:::

The humming of the lights and the clock ticking on the wall were the only sounds in Steve's tiny office. The clock was relentlessly ticking towards seven when Steve glanced at it.

He was alone, save for the looming stacks of paper and the pitch for a marketing plan for the second quarter that laid on the desk unfinished.

With a weary sigh, he leaned back in his chair and reached for the phone, dialing the familiar number that connected him to Chicago.

“Hey, Steve. How's work?” Robin's voice came through the line as a familiar slight echo of a long-distance call.

“Hey, Rob,” Steve said, forcing out a chuckle. “Ever thought of a career as a medium?”

“Nah, this was on you. You never call me around this time on a Tuesday evening.”

It was true. Steve never called her at this time because he knew she had a book club or something like that then. “What if this is my new time to call?” he asked. “You told me I could call whenever. And I thought that I'd call just to see if you'd pick up.”

“Okay, fine. Be glad there's a tough flu bug doing rounds, so the book club was canceled. So, what are you still doing at work? Avoiding going home?” she asked.

“Maybe I am,” he admitted, swirling his pen between his fingers. “It's quieter here.”

“As in, it's quieter inside your head when you're there or it's quieter there, so you have plenty of time and space to think about your feelings?”

Steve felt a tinge of pain in his chest. “He's going on a date tonight.”

“Oh.”

“We had a really nice evening yesterday,” Steve said, realizing that he needed to tell her about it. “I felt that for the first time we really connected, you know. And then he dropped the bomb on me.”

“Ouch. I'm sorry.”

“I guess I just thought that there wasn't anyone... Sure, I told him he should date and that I'd stay away from his way if he ever brought someone home. But that was before. It hit like a ton of bricks.”

“Okay, let's unwrap it. Is it a first date or...”

“He said that it's their first one.”

“Okay, so, it's probably then yet not that far, right?”

“I guess...”

“Steve,” she said calmly, “It's just a date. You know how that is; it might lead nowhere. But I guess now you have to figure out what you want quicker than what I suggested. If someone wants to go on a date with him, and especially if he then, too, wants to see them again...”

“Yeah, I know, I know! It's just... What if I tell him? What then? If he doesn't like me back, then we can't be roommates anymore, I couldn't look him in the eyes after that. And I can't just tell him 'Hey, don't start dating yet, just in case, I'm not sure, but I think I might have feelings for you'.”

“No one said it would be easy,” Robin tried to comfort him. “I wish I could tell you what to do, how to solve this. But it's your life. You need to do the heavy lifting yourself. All I can say is the same as yesterday: figure it out. But just remember: some doors open only once. Don't hesitate too long.”

“I guess,” Steve sighed.

“Go home, Steve. That's where you should be figuring this out, not at work.”

When Steve turned the BMW on their street, he saw from already far away that the Camaro was still parked in front of the bungalow. He'd hoped he could've avoided seeing Billy, but lady luck was not in his favor today.

After he parked the car, he sat there for a moment before getting up, thinking. Knowing Billy was going on a date with someone else hurt. Steve honestly didn't know what to make of it. He had just learned something about himself, and the guy who gave him that awakening was someone who was not on the top of Steve's list of people he'd like to have a relationship with. Well, okay, if he was brutally honest—like he'd now would have to be, at least to himself if no one else—he hadn't thought like that. In truth, he just hadn't known Billy that well.

The troubled teenager who was always an inch away from biting Steve's head off had grown into a surfer who got up before the sun in the morning to surf or for a run on the beach, who loved the sea and its creatures, and who could talk endlessly about how bad importing stuff from overseas was or how important it was for the entire globe to take better care of the oceans. For Billy, fixing cars and teaching aerobics classes was just a means to get by. What he really wanted was to set up his own board shop and maybe make some custom boards.

Steve had seen some of Billy's designs, and while he himself knew nothing about boards, he'd been listening to Billy talk with his surfer buddies and spying his surf magazines that were all around the bungalow. Billy seemed to know what he was talking about, and maybe Steve had amused himself by thinking how to market custom made boards and to whom...

Looks were one thing, and being comfortably in the same place in total silence without the need to fill it with idle chatter was another, and then there were the avenues Steve hadn't yet even thought about more than counting the parts that caused his awakening—ones that tickled his abdomen every time he thought about them.

He hadn't expected that Billy really wasn't at all how he'd been in high school. And it was... difficult. If he'd still been the asshole he was back then, it would've been much easier for Steve to brush off the feelings he was now having as something generated by the fact that he just hadn’t gotten laid in months. Though, if that had been the case, he probably wouldn't have had these feelings in the first place.

The problem was that he didn't know what he exactly wanted. Like he'd told Robin, he couldn't ask Billy to wait just because he thought he had feelings. This might as well be just the door opener for this new side of him and turn out to be nothing more after a while.

But Robin was right. Some doors opened just once, and they didn't remain open forever.

:::

Billy was choosing what to wear when he heard Steve walking in. He pulled a black shirt from the closet with him and buttoned it up as he walked into the living room. He was surprised to see Steve look weary. “Rough day at work?”

Steve glanced at him quickly as he walked towards his room. “Something like that.”

“I was hoping you'd come earlier.”

Steve stopped by the door and turned to look at him. “Why?”

Billy shrugged. “I don't know. Maybe we could've talked about yesterday?”

Steve looked back at his room. “What's there to talk?” He glanced back at Billy before speaking again—and Billy was sure sadness flashed on Steve’s face before a brave smile spread across it. “It was fun. We should do it again sometime.”

Billy smiled. “Yeah, it was fun.” Then he turned serious. “I just don't know what made you end it so abruptly.”

Steve rubbed his eyes with his fingers. “I was just tired, that's all.”

Billy looked at Steve for a moment, pondering whether to believe Steve's words or not. “You sure?”

“Yeah, totally,” Steve replied, again with a smile on his face that didn't reach his eyes.

Yeah, Billy didn't believe Steve. But he didn't want to push it either, though. “Right. Okay.”

Steve glanced at his wristwatch. “Shouldn't you be on your way?”

Billy looked at his own watch. It was ten to eight, and he was supposed to meet Jason at eight. “Shit! Yeah, I should.”

“You two have fun,” Steve said as we walked into his room and closed the door behind him.

“I'll try,” Billy said under his breath as he stared at the closed door.

:::

When Steve heard the front door closing five minutes later, he took a deep breath. It had been harder to see Billy than what he'd imagined. He'd looked great, all primped up and having that new cologne on he'd bought a few weeks back. The one he'd been concerned about if it was too much and asked Steve to be the judge of. It was very Billy-esc scent, masculine and yet not too much—and of course, now that scent wafting all over the house made everything worse. Steve wondered for a brief moment if Billy was wearing something extra underneath his clothes, if he'd go to the date's place afterwards and let them see what it was.

Or worse; if he'd bring the date here. Steve hoped he wouldn't.

:::

Le Petite Bouchée was lit by dim chandeliers and candles on each table, casting a warm glow on the patrons that murmured under the soft timbre of old-time jazz. The small, charming restaurant was nestled in the heart of San Diego’s Gaslamp Quarter, a perfect setting for Billy to get his mind off, well, everything.

He sat alone, perched awkwardly on the edge of his chair. The nervous energy in his body caused him to fidget incessantly with the silverware before him, his fingers tapping out an erratically against the white linen tablecloth. He scanned the full space between quick glances at his watch and the door. He'd been late, but so was Jason, and even more than him.

"Can I get you anything while you wait, sir?" a waiter with a polite smile inquired, breaking Billy's cycle of anxious anticipation.

"Ah, no thanks. I'm good. Just waiting for someone," Billy replied, his voice steadier than he felt.

"Of course, sir. Just signal when you're ready."

As the waiter drifted away, Billy's gaze returned to the entrance, where patrons entered beneath the glow of the restaurant's sign. He didn't like what Jason being late might mean for the future. He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly, trying to still the restlessness inside him.

Then, like a scene from a movie, Jason appeared through the door. There was something special about the way he moved that caught Billy's eye. He watched, spellbound, as Jason walked towards him with a warm smile that lit up his face.

Jason's hair, a stylish Ceasar crop, hinted at a meticulous nature, and his clothes—without a doubt an expensive suit and tailor-made shirt—spoke of the effort put forth for this encounter. His stride was confident, yet there was a softness in his eyes that reached across the room and wrapped around Billy.

“Hey there,” Jason greeted, his voice smooth and inviting as he approached the table. “Sorry that I kept you waiting. Parking was a nightmare.”

“Hey, no worries," Billy managed, standing to greet him. A handshake felt too formal, a hug too presumptuous, so they settled somewhere in between—a casual clasp of shoulders that lingered just a moment too long. “I've only been here a few minutes myself.”

“Good, good,” Jason chuckled, easing into the seat opposite Billy. “I wouldn't want you to think I'm not punctual.”

“Never crossed my mind,” Billy lied smoothly, the tension in his shoulders unwinding ever so slightly. With Jason now present, the atmosphere of the restaurant seemed less daunting, the music softer, and the voices of other diners a distant murmur.

“This seems a nice place,” Jason commented, taking in their surroundings with an appreciative glance.

“Yeah, I thought we might enjoy the vibe here,” Billy said, hoping his choice would impress. “It's got that... I don't know, kind of timeless feel to it.”

“Timeless is right,” Jason agreed with a nod. “Feels like we could be in any decade.”

“Exactly,” Billy said, feeling a hopeful spark ignite within him. Perhaps, he mused, the evening could still unfold in the way he had hoped.

As they examined the menu, Billy glanced at Jason, regarding him. The candlelight cast a golden glow on the table and the menu cut it with stark shadows on Jason's face. Jason was almost Billy's type: well built, took care of himself, had a proper income, all the basics covered. But Billy knew nothing about who Jason was. If he was kind or funny or a good cook or if he'd be always willing to listen to him japing about some issue and then suggest a way he could do something about it—like Steve did.

Billy was surprised by the sudden comparison that popped into his mind. He hadn't thought about it like that, not at least consciously, about the qualities he liked in Steve and now trying to find if Jason had any of them. He made a mental note to avoid that in the future. He was on a date and dating was for learning about the other person so you could make your mind. Not comparing them to someone else who wasn't even a ex.

They made their orders and were then engulfed in a conversation.

"So, how do you survive teaching aerobics to people with two left feet?" Jason asked, his voice tinged with amusement. "I've seen some hopefuls in your class. It's like watching Bambi on ice."

Billy chuckled, "Well, the key is patience and a good sense of humor. Plus, it's hard to stay frustrated when you're surrounded by so much... enthusiasm." He raised his eyebrows, emphasizing the last word with a playful smirk.

"Ah, enthusiasm. Is that what we're calling it these days?" Jason teased, taking a sip from his glass of water.

"Absolutely," Billy replied with a grin.

Their laughter mingled, filling the space between them with an easy camaraderie. As the food arrived, they continued to talk. While Billy was in the middle of recounting an anecdote from his latest surfing escapade, he reached for his glass but knocked it over instead, sending a cascade of red wine spilling across the white tablecloth. “Shit!” he exclaimed, half-standing, a blush creeping up his cheeks. He grabbed his napkin, dabbing at the spreading stain. “Did you get any of it on your shirt?”

“No,” Jason said, waving down a server to help. “And even if I had, it's just clothes. There are rackfuls of them in the stores.”

As the server came to the table and cleaned up the mess, Billy couldn't help but feel a rush of warmth that had nothing to do with the wine he'd spilled. There was something about Jason's ease and humor that made him feel relaxed despite the accident.

"Next time," Jason said with a mischievous glint in his eye, "I'm bringing a sippy cup for you. Safety first, after all."

"Oh har har," Billy retorted, rolling his eyes in mock indignation. "Just for that, I'm making you do double leg lifts next class."

“Is that a promise?” Jason's reply was light, but there was a hint of something more—a promise of future moments just like this one, filled with laughter and the thrill of new beginnings.

Over the evening, Billy found himself opening up about his life as a mechanic and an aerobics instructor and his love of the ocean—his passion for both surf and turf, as Jason called it. With each shared story and laugh, the connection between them deepened, the chemistry undeniable.

Yet despite the laughter and the clearly growing bond, Billy's mind occasionally wandered to Steve, his feelings and the tension that suddenly seemed to permeate the air back at the bungalow. Each time that happened, though, he shook off the thought and refocused on Jason. He was determined to enjoy the evening and the possibilities it might offer—ones that now at this first glance seemed promising.

#Harringrove #Harringrove fic #billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove fanfiction #billy x steve #steve x billy #Angst #stranger things #Stranger things au #Suometar writes

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cat3ch1sm · 2 years

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This is my first request but could you do the wammy boys reaction to the reader giving them a spa day? (Like with skin care masks, hair masks, nail painting, the whole 9-yards :33)

🐢| order up! enjoy<33 this will be a mix of headcanons plus scenarios!!

mello

❀ spa day? what's that? this man hasn't taken a deep breath since 1876

❀ mello is usually fine with the absurd things you suggest to do when you're bored- but what? having someone personally pamper him? someone actually showing him that they care about him and his wellbeing? the fuck?

he's just really confused as to why you want to give him a spa day

he's gonna act all tough and defensive when you suggest it as if he's too hardcore for a spa day, but really, he's kinda into the idea

"Please, Mello? Just this once." "Fine- if you insist."

hair masks

"What is this shit even supposed to be?" Mello glanced from the open container of moisturizer to you, his expression disdainful as he peered into the jar.

You smiled cheerfully, paying no mind to Mello's attitude- after all, he'd agreed to this in the first place. "It's a hair mask! It really helps with dry or damaged hair, and I know you really haven't taken care of your hair like you should be..."

Mello scoffed, but didn't deny this. "I don't have time."

"Okay, Mello," you chuckled, slightly exasperated as you moved towards him. "Here, I'll help you put yours in."

face masks

"And now my hair feels disgusting. Happy?"

"As a matter of fact, I am," you replied brightly before clapping your hands together. "Next, we're gonna do face masks!"

Mello automatically recoiled, his face repulsed. "Huh? We have to put this stuff on our faces?"

"What- no, of course not. Face masks are different from hair masks," you explained, tearing open two thin bags each containing a sage green face mask. To show Mello, you took one out and held it in front of your face, making sure your features aligned with the holes in the mask. "See?"

"That looks terrifying as hell."

You couldn't help but laugh as you set the mask back down on the bag. "Think so? Wait till we get to put cucumbers over our eyes."

"Wait- the fuck?"

nail painting- manicure+pedicure

"You're really pushing your luck here, Y/N."

"Hey- you agreed to this! You gotta go the whole way now."

Mello let out a melodramatic groan, but you could tell he wasn't really annoyed. "Black. I'm getting black."

"Mello. You wear the same chipped polish every day. It's time for an upgrade, dude." You stepped aside from the table behind you to display the numerous bottles of nail polish you'd laid out. "Choose whatever colors you want- one for fingernails and one for toenails. And you can't choose black."

"We're doing both?"

"Pick two colors!"

"What- fine."

massage

"Are you trying to make this weird?"

Undeterred, you shot a wide smile Mello's way, and slightly flustered, he dropped his sullen gaze to the ground. "Not at all. I'm only doing this because you haven't relaxed since the day you were born, so..."

Mello, whom you had forced into a chair, looked up abruptly, no doubt preparing to protest- but realizing you were probably right, he folded his arms across his chest. "Whatever. Do what you want."

"Thank you." You leaned over to kiss him quickly on the nose, to which he turned his eyes to the sky, avoiding your gaze.

༊* he ends up enjoying the massage way more than he expected himself to, although he absolutely won't admit it. well, you can tell anyway.

steamy shower

"You haven't said anything snarky yet," you informed Mello, a brow raised. "Have I broken you already?"

You had already started a hot shower, waiting for it to steam up a little more before it was ready.

"Don't be dumb. I'm wondering if this will be the only thing I can actually get into in this so-called 'spa day.'"

"Hm? What makes this less miserable?" you queried curiously.

"I get to see you naked."

"Oh- Jesus." Now it was your turn to stare at the ground, face hot as you began heading to the shower, Mello beside you.

matt

༊* matt is totally down. tbh go mf crazy

hair masks

"So how do you put this stuff on?" Matt asked, popping the container open and sticking a finger into the moisturizer. "You just drench your hair in this stuff?"

"Well, there's a specific way you have to apply it so you get full coverage," you explained. "Here, let me- Matt?"

You hadn't even begun your explanation before Matt had already turned the whole thing over on his head, tapping the bottom of the container to get all of the product out. Unfazed by the stuff dripping from his hair and sliding down his cheeks, he promptly looked back at you expectantly. "What's next?"

face masks

Finally, you'd managed to clean most of the hair mask from Matt's face- although there was still glossy residue on his clothes, and his hair was full of product. With an exasperated shake of your head, you set down the damp rag you'd been using and picked up a face mask.

"That looks a little freaky," Matt remarked, an eyebrow raised at the mask you held over your face.

"Clear skin doesn't," you replied nonchalantly, placing it on your skin and moving to get Matt's face mask. Matt, in the meantime, peered into the bowl of dewy cucumbers with an odd look. "What are these for? Do we eat them?"

You spun around instantly. "Matt, no-"

Too late- your boyfriend had already decided to munch on the green vegetable slices, popping at least three into his mouth and frowning slightly. "These taste weird as hell."

"I- good grief, Matt, you weren't supposed to eat them!"

"Really? Wow." Matt sent you an innocently bright smile, cucumbers sitting in front of his teeth. "My bad."

Regardless of Matt's antics, you couldn't help but smile.

nails- manicure+pedicure

"I can totally do my own nails, you know."

"Yeah, well, after that hair mask stunt, I don't trust you around this stuff," you retorted, setting down the barrage of nail polish bottles you had. "Choose two colors- one for your fingers and one for your feet."

"Why don't I just get a different color for every nail?" Matt asked flippantly, bent over to observe the nail colors you'd laid out.

"Because you have too many digits for that. Now choose or I'm choosing for you," you answered, giving Matt a pointed look.

Now Matt grinned in amusement. "Ha! There are easily thirty different colors here. You just don't have the patience." Casually, he danced over to the still present bowl of cucumbers and popped one into his mouth.

You shrugged before laughing out loud. "You aren't wrong."

massage

"Why do I need a massage?"

"Because you hang around Mello twenty-seven hours a day."

Matt gave you an amused look. "What does my hanging out with Mello have to do with me needing a massage? And also, there aren't that many hours in a day. Just saying."

"I know that, genius. What I mean is, Mello is the most uptight person I know, and I'm sure it's not doing you any favors. Now sit on the chair." You indicated a wooden chair in the center of the room.

Matt raised a brow at it skeptically before glancing back at you oddly. "This is supposed to be a massage chair?"

"Well, I really can't go out and buy a big fancy recliner when we're in hiding because the goddamn police are looking for you," you replied with a dramatic eye roll.

"You know, I figured I wouldn't be able to relax with a massage from you anyway, but you're really making it worse."

"I'm still better than Mello."

"Are you?"

shower

"So now you're saying I stink?"

"Matt!"

"Kidding. Come on, let's get in."

"So you're automatically assuming we're showering together?"

"You don't have a choice, babe."

near

༊* he's wondering why you came up with the idea, but after some convincing, he agrees to it if it will please you. but be aware that this man has no idea what self-care is😭😭 the almighty near has no damn clue how to brush his hair properly

hair masks

"Uh- I'm not sure I know what exactly a hair mask is," Near informed you, eyeing the jars of scented hair product somewhat cautiously. "Will it have any detrimental effects on my hair after I use it that I need to know about?"

"Uh-" Quickly, you snatched up one of the jars and skimmed over the words on the label before putting it down and smiling brightly. "Nope! All good. Also, I had to buy a million of these because your hair is insane and I really doubt you take care of it like you should. You're welcome."

"Thanks?" Near picked up a strand of white hair and twirled it in between his fingertips before glancing up to watch you open one jar. "Do you just... put it in your hair?"

"Pretty much."

Near paused and stared at the jars for a second before looking back up at you expectantly. Feeling his eyes on you, you looked back up at him questioningly.

"Do... you need me to show you?"

"That would be nice."

face masks

"Huh- my hair feels... moist."

You had to fight the urge to laugh at how clueless your boyfriend was when it came to these matters. "That's what's supposed to happen- see? No side effects."

"Alright. What will we do now?"

"Face masks!" you announced excitedly, laying out the supplies. Near glanced down at them with a furrowed brow.

"I believe I've seen these before... I may know how to apply one if I can remember correctly." Tentatively, Near took one in between his index finger and thumb and promptly plastered it on his face, looking at you expectantly. "Is this right?"

You blinked a couple of times before smiling slightly. "Uh- yeah. But don't forget the cucumbers!"

"To... eat?"

"Nope! You put them over your eyes to get rid of eyebags."

"Eyebags? I am only nineteen- I don't think those are an issue yet-"

"Yeah? When was the last time you slept more than two hours at night?"

"I get plenty of sleep," Near retorted defensively. "Just last night I was able to-" Suddenly, he cut himself off, mind blanking as he tried to recall a night where he'd gotten an adequate amount of sleep.

You raised a brow at Near pointedly. "Case and point."

nails- manicure+pedicure

༊* i think near would rather paint a mural or something on the floor instead of doing his nails- but tbh he doesn't care, let him go crazy

You sat on the ground in front of Near, observing his activity with a puzzled look on your face. "I'm a little surprised you decided to paint the ground instead of your nails, but whatever makes you happy." You tilted your head at the art made of several glittery polishes and smelling strongly of chemicals. "What are you making, anyway?"

Near didn't answer, dabbing a few more drops of metallic silver onto the floor before scooting back and observing his drawing.

"Look- I made Ryuk."

༊* pls tell him it looks nice no matter how it may actually look because pls

massage

༊* near does not want the massage. he wants to keep painting. he also starts stacking the empty nail polish bottles on top of each other. u must play with him

steamy shower

"Hot showers make my hair frizzy."

"Yes, Near, but you need to exfoliate, so you don't have any choice."

"I have never exfoliated before. I don't see any reason why I should begin now."

"Near, you already agreed to the spa day- you gotta go all in now."

ryuzaki

༊* it takes a lot of pleading and cake but you finally get l to agree to your spa day. except now you owe him like five slices of cake. fun.

༊* so uh yeah buckle up bc this man has never breathed in the same room as a shower

a/n- anyways purely headcanons here because this post is hella long n im tired

hair masks

༊* will probably take the whole container and dump it on his head

༊* he will proceed to accidentally gel his hair into a bunch of naruto-looking hairstyles and wonder why you're falling tf out in the back

༊* then l realizes his hair looks weird asf, get irritated by you laughing at him, and then go to you and turn a whole different container over your head because he's childish and petty. have fun cleaning the stuff off your face and shirt

face masks

༊* -puts face mask over self- "Boo."

༊* bro has no clue how to take care of himself. at all. mentally or physically. he's worse than every other wammy boy combined. it's rare he even bathes properly, let alone does a whole spa day routine

༊* once you say the cucumbers are supposed to get rid of eyebags/dark circles, he flat out refuses to put them on his face

༊* "Ryuzaki. You're telling me you don't see why you need to put the cucumbers over your eyes?"

"No. I think my dark circles give me character."

༊* eh, well, he isn't wrong.

nails- manicure+pedicure

༊* honestly L kinda likes the idea of having his nails done. he is not at all concerned with the feminine factor he just thinks it looks nice

༊* he sits all quiet and still while you paint his nails with dark blue or black. finally his frog position works out to your advantage because his toes and fingernails are displayed

༊* does everything in his power not to smear the polish once you're done. he will also not remove it willingly for several weeks afterward

massage

༊* l is the one giving you a massage despite your efforts to convince him to let it be the other way around. ur not complaining tho

༊* at first you hear bones cracking and get anxious but it turns out it's pretty refreshing

༊* 10/10 massager. would hire at a salon

steamy shower

༊* mans has never walked into a shower in his life. he has basically always used that weird washing machine thing

༊* he also keeps the water absolutely freezing and therefore is not at all open to getting in a hot shower. he is also dramatic as all hell about it and is stressing u tf out

༊* "Do you want me to boil alive?"

"Good question."

416 notes · View notes

damagedintellect · 1 year

Text

Trafalgar Law x reader

💌 Fake it till you make it: Chapter 6 💌

Summary: To avoid an arranged marriage set up by Doflamingo, Law needs to bring home a girlfriend during the Christmas break and you just so happen to be a theatre major in the same dorm at One Piece University. What could possibly go wrong?

Tropes: College AU, Fake Dating, Idiots in love

💌 Word count: 4,335 💌 <= Previous Chapter | Next Chapter =>

The sun sat high in the sky, light flooding through the window. The events of last night slowly stirred through Law’s head as he woke up little by little. The light flashed annoyingly on his face as he could feel his head start to ache causing him to regret not drinking much water the night before. Although since he was forced to be around his family's clients for that long and his agreement with Doflamingo, he needed something to take the edge off of dealing with the blonde's bullshit. Besides, he didn't drink enough to truly embarrass himself; it's not like he would do anything he'd regret. If anything Law thinks when he’s inebriated he tends to do things he would have done anyways. He’s not a complete idiot. He snuggled back into the blankets trying to get the sun out of his eyes not wanting to get up just yet. That’s when he realized that it wasn’t the blanket he was nuzzling into. Flashbacks from last night played out in his head as he leisurely opened his eyes. He fucked up. Law was still stark naked pressed right up against (Y/N) spooning her with his arms pulling her closer to his chest. He didn’t know what to think about the hole that he dug for himself but this was not how he wanted to confront his feelings.

No matter how he looked at it, this was probably the worst thing he could have done. He cursed himself for thinking with his dick as he eventually untangled himself. What was he supposed to do now? The ride home was going to be extremely awkward and he was not looking forward to it. Does he bring up his romantic intentions or would that be weird. Like “(Y/N)-ya I know we just had sex and that was great also please be my real girlfriend.” He winced at his own delusion roasting his brain for the horrible choice of words. He got ready to take a shower as he looked at the desolate state the room was in. He contemplates waking (Y/N). It was already afternoon and he wanted to leave earlier since the roads were going to be crazy to deal with as it was new year’s day. "Great" Law thought to himself rolling his eyes. He messed up on all fronts because neither of them spent the down time yesterday packing. Now he remembers why he never bothered with having such infatuations. They were more trouble than they're worth.

—

Your back was cold but your face was warmed by the sun. It was the only thing keeping you from thinking about how much your head hurt. Actually scratch that everything hurt, your entire body was sore but it was a good kind of sore. Although your neck was killing you. You knew you would have to get up eventually. You really didn’t want to but if you and Law were going to leave at the time he wanted… your thoughts trail off as you bolt upright making yourself dizzy. OH GOD LAW! You had sex with Trafalgar Law. You scanned the room you were alone, still naked but alone. The whole room in a state of disarray as it all came back to you. You pulled the blanket over yourself not wanting to think about how embarrassingly horny you were last night. You’re never going to hear the end of it. You can see it now the whole car ride back is just going to be him teasing you about how badly you wanted him. You tried not to think about it as you collected your things and packed them away. You contemplate taking a shower but decide to get dressed instead. If you knew when Law got up maybe you would but you don’t want to keep him waiting. On the other hand he still had to pack. You don’t bother looking in a mirror as you thread your fingers through your hair heading down stairs.

It didn’t seem like anyone else was around although as you made your way to the kitchen you could hear voices. When you turned the corner you made eye contact with Law who was sitting at the table with a cup of coffee. He seemed to pause the conversation giving you a hard stare before his eyes lowered slightly. His face simmered red. Law covered the lower half of his face with his hand but didn’t look away from you. You blush lightly under his gaze giving him a quizzical look while Corazon gives you both a cheeky grin “At least now I know I won't have to beg for grandkids.” He laughed lightly to himself.

It occurs to you that he was referring to the hickeys on your neck and you blush harder. Law choked on his coffee and was lecturing Corazon that he can’t just say stuff like that. The blonde continued to laugh it off “Ah, young love. Law there’s no need to be embarrassed, she's your girlfriend for crying out loud.” Law cleared his throat putting his mug aside “I should start packing, it’s already later than I would have liked to leave.” He pulled his hat down when he walked past you but stopped to grab your arm taking you back upstairs with him. Neither of you spoke until you got into the room. Law didn’t let go of your wrist, both of you just staring at your hands. Trying to collect his thoughts he muttered “I’m sorry about him, I don't know why he said that.”

You laughed nervously in hindsight. You had to admit it was kind of funny if it wasn't directed at you. “I uh probably would have made a similar joke had it been my kid so don’t worry about it.” He eventually let go of your wrist and started gathering his things. You tried to make yourself busy by making the bed.

"Listen about last night-"

"I'm coming in," Law was interrupted by Doflamingo "Corazon said you were about to head off. I wanted to offer my assistance, it would be rude of me to not see you out." Doffy gestured to your bag but Law stepped in front of you. "I'm sure we can manage just fine." Doflamingo grinned smugly, "I insist.” You could see sparks fly with how intense their gaze on each other was. Honestly you don’t want to get involved but you know neither of them will back down. They’ve done this a few times over the week but Corazon was always there to snap them out of it. These silly boys and their mind games you swear. You bite the bullet and calmly take Law’s hand hoping he will stand down this once. “That would be lovely and I would like to thank you again for everything this past week. I know my arrival was on short notice.” you broke Law’s focus for a moment before he glared back at Doflamingo, backing down and letting the blonde take your bag. "Truly the pleasure was all mine. It's not everyday one manages to capture Law’s heart." Law would have rolled his eyes at the blonde but he'd rather just leave already. After checking the surroundings to make sure he didn’t miss anything Doffy ushered you both out of the room.

“Did you enjoy yourself while you were here, (Y/N)?” Doflamingo asked as you all walked down the stairs. Corazon joined you on your way to the car. “Oh, very much. It was a nice change of pace.” You gave Corazon one final hug and Doflamingo offered you his hand. “I’m sure we’ll see each other again, maybe even sooner than expected.” He threw a look at Law before turning around walking back to the manor. You wonder what that was all about as you got in the car.

You waited until you were a fair bit away from the manor before starting a conversation with Law. He seemed to be deep in thought and you don’t blame him. Doflamingo’s last words seemed rather cryptic in your opinion but you think that’s just how he is in general. While Corazon seems to be an open book with only everyone’s best in mind, his brother seemed to be the evil master manipulator. At least you kept your promise to Bepo.

"About the-"

"You know-"

You both spoke at the same time, Law glancing at you briefly before looking back at the road. "You can go first." He was almost relieved. He already tried to bring it up once and at this point he lost his train of thought. You shifted in your seat. "I was going to say I really did enjoy myself," you smiled at him. "This was a lot of fun. What were you gonna say?" You had a feeling you knew what it was. Obviously it was the elephant in the room. You don't know how you feel about it. You felt something for Law you really did and it seemed like he felt the same way but you can't deny that last night you both were drinking. You just don't want to be wrong and Law wasn't exactly the easiest to read.

"I was going to say that about yesterday, I apologize if I made you uncomfortable." Law cringed at his own words. He was having a hard time focusing partly because of Doflamingo's almost threatening send off and mostly because everyone was driving like ass. This is why he wanted to leave earlier but that was his own damn fault. Not to mention he wanted to have this conversation before they left but Doflamingo ruined that too and now he had to try and remember the speech he made before the interruption. This was not going as he planned. He just hopes he doesn't inadvertently make things worse.

He's worried he made you uncomfortable, does that mean he regrets it? Did that mean the flirting was unintentional? Did you somehow miss read the signs? You only had more questions or maybe you're overthinking. "I wasn't uncomfortable. Believe it or not I did mean what I said before coming here." It was true you were fine with it. Physical contact wasn't off putting to you in general and since it was Law you openly welcomed it, but he didn't know that.

Right, how could Law forget.

Come to think of it, maybe Law was wrong about his hunch. You being good at your job was starting to be a real pain in the ass. It didn't negate his romantic feelings but he might need more evidence before making a fool of himself. Although he should just peel off the band aid, he didn't. He would rather die alone than be wrong.

"I guess so, oh since you're paying me I really don’t care about personal boundaries. Holding hands, kissing, cuddles whatever is fine with me. I'm your girlfriend now so don't be shy." You looked at him over his expression, unreadable as ever. You grinned "Or do, you're pretty cute when you're flustered." You shot him a playful wink.

The rest of the drive was in stifling silence as you checked social media for the first time since leaving the dorms. You saw a flood of messages and pictures from the group chats showing what everyone else had been up too. It seemed like everyone was having a good time. Ace and Sabo had the most pictures shared usually of Luffy doing something stupid. Ussop sent some of him and Kaya playing in the snow. Sanji sent some of the mouth watering food he made, apparently Nami and Zoro were with him. Nami lived by Baratie in Sanji’s neck of the woods but apparently Zoro got lost on his way to Mihawk's and somehow ended up there by accident. Zoro later sent a selfy with Perona and Mihawks confirming he did eventually make it home. Chopper had taken a picture with the real Santa and no one had the heart to tell him otherwise. Robin and Franky sent a few selfies of their adventures. Lastly Brook sent a little jingle wishing everyone a happy festive season.

It was pretty late by the time you guys got back on campus. The school was fairly empty but you did see some people who stayed back. You followed Law into the dorms and wondered what the surgeon was thinking about. As you made your way inside it seemed pretty empty still though there was a coffee mug on the common room table you wondered if someone beat you guys back to the dorms or if someone forgot to put it away before they left. If you had to guess it was probably Robin. She wasn't planning on staying with Franky the whole break anyhow. The campus archives were like no other constantly acquiring new artifacts and literature. Lost in your thoughts you bumped into Law’s back wondering why he stopped but then you realized you both were already standing outside his dorm room.

“(Y/N)-ya, isn’t your room the other way?” he pointed down the hallway as you perked up, lightly blushing “Right! Yup, I forgot- I mean, I-I must still be tired.” you smacked your cheeks for emphasis trying to cover up the fact that you were embarrassed. You were about to walk away when Law stopped you. “In that case I might as well give this back.” He opened the door to his room, setting his bag on his bed as he opened it revealing Lil Law. You gasped dramatically, because of the events that transpired on the last night you completely forgot about him. You looked at the bear fondly and held him close. “I thought for sure you got rid of him!” Law scoffed looking away feeling his cheeks heating up. “I was going to believe me, but knowing you? I wouldn’t put it past you to go back to Dressrosa and make a new one just to spite me."

You laughed but you probably would do something similar given you had the resources and the time to do so. "There's no way I could make a new one since I'd need you to say my name again. That's why he's special." You pressed his Paw "Oi (Y/N)-ya" without thinking you kissed the bear on the nose forgetting you don't need to keep up an act. You and Law meet eyes for a split second before turning away. "I guess I should be going then." You wanted him to tell you to stay but instead you were met with an emotionless "Do what you want" and just as you feared everything was back to normal.

Law didn’t actually expect you to leave. Genuinely he thought you'd make up some excuse to stay. He almost regrets giving back his replacement so easily. He wanted to see what you would do given the chance. Which was kind of stupid on his part he knows that. There was no reason for you to stay; you had already fulfilled your part of the bargain. Law didn't want to admit it but sleeping next to you was some of the best sleep he's gotten all year. At least he could finally be alone with his thoughts and figure out where to go from here.

You were such an idiot. You should have just told him you were staying, said something cheesy like "What? You thought you could get rid of me that easily?" But as brave as you are, your anxiety got the better of you. It was so much easier when you didn't have any expectations of the outcome of your dimwitted flirty remarks and now it seems like a lost opportunity. You knew from day one this was going to be the outcome but it feels like you didn’t even try. You laid down cuddling with Lil Law. There had to be some way to break the ice, something you could do to get things back to how they were before the Gala. You could ask if he wanted to hang out but you guess you've kind of already done that the whole week. You could watch the Polar Express again, or not, you already did that and you fell asleep too. You ruffled your hair tossing and turning on your bed accidentally triggering an "Oi (Y/N)-ya" You froze, almost having a heart attack before realizing he wasn't in the room. This is why you liked theatre. Everything is scripted to the gesture there was no guesswork and even when there was it was contained in a character song that explained the next course of action.

—

It had been a week. A whole week, roughly the same amount of time you stayed in Dressrosa for and you hadn't seen Law since. You weren’t avoiding him per se but you also had been keeping busy. You had been putting in crazy hours at the studio keeping a strict conditioning regiment. You started off focusing on your technique but after an hour of ballet you decided you shouldn't push yourself that hard. Especially after a break. Alternatively it felt good to dance. It was very freeing to just throw on some music and let the feeling wash over you.

As more people came back to the dorms you would catch glimpses of Law passing through the common room. He wasn't looking so good the bags under his eyes were much darker than before and he seemed to zone out which wasn't something he ever made a habit of. Bepo tried asking you if anything happened while you were at Dressrosa but you'd deflect any details that involved you specifically. Shachi and Penguin were also astonished at Law’s new mannerisms. It wasn’t like the surgeon to be absent minded. Penguin asked you if you both got in a fight because of the way he reacts when they bring up your name. Apparently they wanted to go out with you for drinks the other night and Law almost fell out of his seat at the notion. Then again they also said they haven't seen him get any real sleep since they all returned to the dorms. You were worried but didn't know how to go about helping. Law doesn’t like being told what to do or being taken care of. The irony.

—

Unbeknownst to you, everyone else in the dorm Bepo, Shachi and Penguin were already planning an intervention. “They have been driving me crazy, we have to do something they keep avoiding each other and using me as the middleman.” Bepo lamented. He would do anything for Law but he couldn’t sit and watch any longer. They had the sneaking suspicion that you both had caught feelings for each other and refused to act on them. That was the only reasonable explanation at this point.

Shachi leaned back in his chair “Well what do we do we can’t just invite them both over and not tell the other. One way or another they’d find out and then refuse to come.”

Penguin thought it was brilliant “That’s perfect actually! I invite (Y/N) to go out for drinks or something and you guys ask Law if he wants to watch a movie and then I’ll say I need to get something from Bepo first and we lock them in the dorm.” He received quizzical looks from the others.

“There’s no way that’s gonna work.”

“It’ll work I swear,” Penguin hoped because if it didn't he was out of ideas. “It has to work.”

You were on your way back to your room after a much needed shower. Dancing for long periods of time makes you sweaty and gross even in the ac. That's when Penguin stopped and asked if you wanted to grab a drink with him. Apparently the girl you set him up with broke it off recently and he didn't want to be with the guys right now. Which was convenient for you all things considered you needed a drink. It was already pretty late in the day so you told him you could be ready in less than an hour. When you got back to your dorm you dried your hair and picked out something nice. Part of you wants to be reckless and go home with a stranger to get your mind off of Law. In all honesty you're fairly certain all you had to do was talk to him about it but for some reason it felt complicated but also like you had nothing to lose. Bottom line it was frustrating and usually you're really good at reading people. It's quite literally part of your job to analyze body language and interpret motivations. You wondered if you'd feel the same had you not gone to Dressrosa. What would you even say to him? "Oh the dangers of method acting, I fell in love with you Oops." You shake your head. No, you knew from the very beginning he was your type.

From your first encounter with the surgeon you're pretty sure he had your heart and not just your broken pen. The story you told in Dressrosa was a hundred percent true. That's how you technically met. The second time you saw the surgeon he was fighting off fangirls which is why you choose not to get involved. Now you wonder if you were always going to end up like this one way or another. Reminds you of how your parents met. You grit your teeth and smack yourself taking one last look in the mirror before messaging Penguin.

As you were about to leave he needed something from Bepo. He didn't specify what but you shrugged it off. They had pretty much been babysitting Law all week the absent mindedness could be rubbing off on them too. You followed behind pulling your phone out not paying attention as the door opened.

"(Y-Y/N)-ya?" You heard Law utter in disbelief. Glancing around you realized it was a bait and switch. "Shit." You tried to escape but Bepo pushed you further into the room as Penguin and Shachi secured the door. "Neither of you are leaving this room until you work out whatever is going on between you two!" They shouted from the other side of the door. You gestured at the door looking at Law who only shrugged having no hand in the set up. You sighed, putting your hand on your hip. "You guys do realize the door opens and locks from the inside right." There was a brief pause before the handle jiggled "If we hold the door what difference does it make. Now talk!"

You looked back at Law. He had his head in his hands most likely embarrassed by the loyalty of his friends. You sat next to him on the bed you might as well get this over with.

"So-"

"You're-"

You both looked at each other, both motioning for the other to say their piece. You frowned, this will get you nowhere. "No, I went first Last time and look where that got us." Law grumbled but you were right. "You're looking well" he said gesturing to your outfit. To be fair you were dressed to go out of course you looked nice. Law on the other hand looked like he hadn't left his room all week. "And you look like death"

"I haven't been getting much sleep" He paused, deciding whether or not it was a good idea to tell you more information "You're all I can think about."

"I can imagine. I mean you were always an insomniac-” you cut yourself off. It only now dawned on you what Law said “Wait what" you stare back in confusion. Did you hear him correctly?

It was now or never Law thought as he looked away. He didn’t want to face you. He didn’t want to see your reaction to his words. "I might have developed romantic feelings for you and trusting people and letting them in has never been my strong suit"

"Well, being honest with my emotions has never exactly been mine so I guess that makes two of us." You moved closer to put your head on his shoulder. Law tensed at the action. For smart people you guys sure are idiots. "I feel the same, by the way.” You laughed awkwardly. “You know just in case you were wondering.” Law sat up to look at you. When he had this conversation in his head that’s not what he expected you to say. You blinked back at him “What?”

Law narrowed his eyes at you “You like me” he said flatly. You didn’t understand what he wasn’t getting at “I do, why, is that hard to believe?” he rubbed his temples putting two and two together "Then why have you been avoiding me?"

You scoffed "I could say the same to you! I assumed it was all in my head because you didn't seem interested after we got back."

"Are you kidding me?! I spent the last three days of the trip actively flirting with you!"

"Yeah on a trip where we were in an established relationship!"

"I never flirt with anyone, it should have been really obvious!"

"Maybe if you were a better flirt I would have realized it sooner!" You argued back. That last comment had a little more bite to it than necessary. You think you might have actually struck a cord there "Seriously!" Law looked slightly offended crossing his arms. You laughed as you cupped his grumpy sleep deprived face "Just kiss your girlfriend already." You both leaned in feeling the familiar spark. As you were about to pull away he wrapped his arms around you trapping you in his embrace. You stayed like that for a while enjoying the hug before you realized his breath evened out and he was no longer responding to you. He was asleep.

—

Chapter Navigation: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [You are here] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12]

#I couldn't resist I had to feed the hungry followers #does this still count as plot relevant posting #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar law x y/n #onepiece x reader #one piece x reader #more on ao3 link in the headline

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hurryupmerlin · 3 months

Text

My beloved Mal belongs to @riinoaheartilly

_______________

"How many sex partners did you have?" Mal asks while his hand draws lazy circles on Ami's bare shoulder.

It's a good time to ask things that would otherwise never be addressed. Heads still woozy with happiness and systems flooded with cuddle hormones so soon after their interlude makes for loose tongues.

"You tell first."

"When I was younger, a couple guys in the showers,” Mal muses. “Nothing serious; we had no idea what we were doing. After the war started I had a guy I met up with every now and then. Hated his guts but he knew how to get the job done."

"How could you sleep with someone you hated?"

Mal shrugs nonchalantly.

"We weren't allowed to stab each other. Had to find a way to resolve our conflicts differently."

"But you liked it?"

"Admittedly." He smirks. "What about you, what's your body count?"

Looking up at the ceiling, Ami answers after a few seconds of reflection: "Sex partners... Just you."

Mal's hand stops its monotonous circular movement and withdraws. He exhales audibly through his nose. For a moment he considers ignoring the statement and moving over to the next topic, but then he speaks out loud what he had been thinking way too often since he met Ami:

"Why do you always lie to me?"

He's used to Ami avoiding the truth, but he can't stop the disappointment from dripping from his every syllable.

In Ami's ears, the accusation rings even worse. He avoids Mal's gaze.

"I'm not lying," he asserts.

But maybe he should've lied. Should've said any number worthy of a nod and a chuckle. Should've made something up about a girl back home or another slave in the camp. Should've let Mal think that he had learned taking dick like everyone else did and that he'd just always been blessed with so little gag reflex, no story behind that.

A tight knot forms in his stomach. He doesn't want to talk about it, but he doesn't want to lie to Mal either. Now he regrets that he didn't stop the question in the first place. He wanted to know more about Mal and that lured him in. Perhaps Mal would have been ready for the second round already, that certainly would've distracted him enough from digging any deeper. Anyway, it's too late now.

Mal just shakes his head.

"Thought we were over hiding our pasts from each other. My mistake."

"Mal...," Ami tries again, struggling for words.

"Never mind," Mal says dismissively and straightens up. The worst thing about it, Ami figures, is that he doesn't even seem angry. Just done.

Mal swings his legs over the edge of the bed, about to leave and Ami sits up quickly, rocks forward and presses his face against Mal's back, wrapping his arms around his lover's hips.

Mal stills and hangs his head.

"I'm sorry," Ami mumbles against Mal's warm skin. "It's– I– I don't want to talk about... It's hard for me to talk about some things."

"That's okay." A cybernetic hand tenderly comes to rest over Ami's. "Don't worry, I still love you."

Being able to hide behind Mal without having to look him in the eye helps.

"I know what you think." Ami can't help the tremor in his voice. What he says next feels like chewing glass. "But lying on your back crying, while someone forces themself in... that isn't sex. Sucking a dick because you're so hungry you already fainted twice that day and desperately want to earn a treat isn't sex."

His voice breaks.

"But Mal, I love you. When I'm sleeping with you it's because I want you. Your kisses make me hard, and I can't get enough of your hands. And the way you say my name... makes it sound like an endearment instead of an insult."

He had hoped he could finish his monologue with a bit of dignity, but no. The tears find their way out and Ami's words crumble into sobs under the strain. The way he's crying now, he's too distraught to filter what comes next as he rambles on:

"And... sometimes you make me laugh while we're at it, how insane is that? I never even knew that was possible. Gosh, when– when you touch me, it feels so right. In my book, that is sex. And I only had sex with you, Mal. No one else."

Mal doesn't move or speak for a whole agonizing minute, just squeezes the hand under his.

He finds it difficult to unpack and sort everything that Ami has served him. The meaning of what he has just learned creeps into him like smoke into lungs. It constricts his throat, sharp-edged and indigestible.

Eventually he says a quiet "I'm sorry."

A multitude of grief and shame hangs in the air, heavy and dark. After all of Ami's words, he feels as if he's supposed to say more, balance it out, and do some healing. But words fail him.

"Only you," Ami says weakly, like a mantra, as his lips graze over the ridges of Mal's spine.

Mal's reply is quiet and soft: "Only you."

#Mal #others ocs #Amiss #my ocs #my writing #mal/ami #cloneshipping #clonecest #tw: mention of SA

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crymeariveronceagain · 2 years

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Can we get Ro and Keefe headcanons. Like. Please.

heck yea you can(finally, at long last)

Ro is actually kind of a sweetheart. Like, deep down, she cares, really badly, for Keefe. Maybe it's forced proximity, forced caring, but she does care.

The thing is, she can't. Outwardly, at the very least. She cannot care about this kid in the way that she wants to. She wants to care about him in a "pick him up, kiss his forehead, tell him to buck up, that it's all gonna be okay and that she loves him" kind of way. She can't. She's a professional.

Keefe honestly really likes the solid comfort of being cared about, even in the most professional of ways. He'll never admit it, but having someone pay attention to him fills a void inside of him that he never knew he wanted filled.

She knows a lot, a lot about this kid. She watches him almost constantly, is always near him, and she knows. She can hear him cry himself to sleep at night. She can hear him take hour-long showers. She can hear him scream from nightmares. She knows what his friendships are like, what his parents are like.

Mmm, Cassius doesn't treat Ro like a person. He treats her like an object, something that's there, watching over his son, never actually going to interfere with him. It's a shock the first time Ro tells him to go do something nasty to himself when he calls Keefe a name.

Ro gives Keefe as much space as she can afford, when things get hard. Ro was never really a touchy-feely person, so when she thinks he needs space, she gives him it. She lets him feel his emotions, lets him take time and space and just be. And then she'll appear. "Doing alright?" she asks. If Keefe shrugs, or jokes, she knows he's okay. If he shakes his head or doesn't respond, she knows he needs a friend to come over and give him a hug. She'll be on her way to hail Sophie in moments.

Keefe really. Really. Really needs Ro. He's never going to admit it. But holy. Holy frick does this boy depend on having someone who is required to care about him no matter what. Like, imagine that. It's such a bizarre thing for him, having someone care about him unconditionally, well, except for the wages, but it's so strange to him how easily he can forget that Ro's just there because she's getting paid. Holy heck. If he had to guess, he thinks, one day, watching her pace up and down the hallway, he'd think this is what having a family is like. That this is what being loved is like. That this is what family is supposed to be. He's not sure. But he can hope.

Anyways, Ro doesn't really do much of her own activities with Keefe. One day, on her day off, she invites him out with her to go hunting, but Keefe pukes on the ground in the woods after she kills her rabbits, so she decides against taking him again. Keefe looks ill whenever she mentions going out for the evening, now. But hey, at least he got off her back when it comes to hanging out with Bo.

Speaking of, Keefe's invited to her and Bo's wedding.

She does not want him to give a speech, she says, right out of the gate. Which of course makes Keefe write three speeches, all of which Ro silently loves, but outwardly rebels against.

Ro would die for Keefe even if she wasn't getting paid to do it.

Conversely, Keefe would die for Ro, and he knows he won't get paid for it.

They're both extremely sassy. So much sass. Cassius just straight up avoids Keefe when Ro's around him, after a while. She gives the kid too much power, he thinks, bitterly.

After the war, Ro doesn't need to be Keefe's bodyguard anymore. Keefe keeps his face straight and his lips smiling as she hugs him in one of her bone-cracking hugs.

"Sencen," she whispers, in his ear, "You haven't lost me, you're not losing me. The war is over, the battle is done. But you're still my kid, alright? You're the brother I never got. So listen to me, you stupidly loveable idiot, if you ever need an ogre princess. I'm there. I'll be there in a second. As fast as the light can take me. I'm always gonna have your back, Keefe," she pulled away, and looked him dead in the eyes. "Promise me that if you need me, you hail me."

Keefe nods, feeling like his world as coming apart at the seams.

He hails her that night, and she picks up the imparter in a heartbeat.

"What's the matter, kid?"

Keefe says nothing for a long moment, the clock on his wall ticking in the silence.

"Keefe?"

Keefe shrugs. "I think I miss you."

Ro smiles, into the imparter, her sharp teeth glittering. "I miss you too, kid."

The nights are long without her, and the world is less safe than it was with her near him.

But she's there when it matters.

And he needs to grow on his own.

He's doing it, right now, whether he knows it or not. Independence is a life free from fear, and if the first step is not having a bodyguard constantly, that's the first step.

When he goes to visit her a month later, she plays a prank on him, and he tries to tackle her, and everything is better.

Everything is better.

He didn't expect it to be.

But it is.

#this is a commentary on how support systems and needing space from people which i honestly need to take to heart as well #kotlc #thanks for the ask!#kotlc keefe #keefe sencen #kotlc ro #ro #kotlc headcanons #kotlc headcanon #LITTLE BROTHER BIG SISTER DYNAMICS MY BELOVED #also bodyguards loving the crap out of the people they guard my beloved #like jeepers #let's all just #ugh #idk #cassius sencen's a+ parenting #again

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meritatem · 10 months

Text

When wildlife rehabilitators free animals back into their habitats, they take precautions with dangerous specimens; it's common sense not to stand close to the cage's door after it's open... that's why when Damian was sure Jason was fit to be cleared, he gave him instructions like a medical professional would, explained the layout of the safe house, pointed where to find his things and everything else he'll need and finally, took most of what he brought with him, gave him one last look and just left with a farewell, ignoring Jason's complaints in the background.

Only when he got out of the building and entered the closest one he selected to keep with surveillance, Damian activated the command to open the bed's constraints. While Todd was amenable enough for someone that had been kidnapped and put under medical procedures against his will, Damian wasn't under the belief that things would be safe for him once Jason was free. Although the Lazarus Pit had been a foreign influence affecting him physically, it didn't mean that his mental state had become stable now that it was gone. Todd was going to need time to come to terms with the things that happened to him; expecting those issues to be resolved in a couple of weeks was unrealistic, but Damian knew he'd have a better outcome if he waited some time before approaching Jason again, at the very least Todd would be less likely to shoot him again.

Damian headed towards the room he selected beforehand to do his actual stakeout and once there, he resigned himself to more waiting. Given how much he spent in silence with his thoughts in the past few days, the two hours it took for Jason to resurface to the world practically flew by. That’s what he had been waiting for: to see Jason in the screen of his laptop through the security cameras, up and ready, walking on the garage, bag on his shoulder and looking so much better after a shower, if his seemingly damp hair was anything to judge by. Jason got on the first motorcycle that caught his attention and put the helmet over his head, not even bothering with looking for trackers, so either he didn't care at this point or he was planning on ditching it as soon as possible.

And there Todd went, out of the garage using its secret entrance, free to roam the streets of Gotham once again.

This was something Damian spent so much planning for and while it had been exhilarating at the beginning, now it left him feeling like climbing a mountain and stopping just for a small respite, before being forced to keep up, carrying the invisible weight of his past. No rest for the wicked, so they said.

He gave three updates - more than enough time to cover up what he had been up to - before announcing his whole operation was a bust.

It was embarrassing to admit such juvenile overlook from his part, but when he arrived later at the bunker, the sight of Grayson, full in costume, took him by surprise. And it was something expected, logical, but the fact that Damian hadn't conjured this foreseeable imagery until now, meant he purposely avoided thinking about this inevitability, even when it was so impossible to ignore the reality of this fact... the mind certainly was capable of doing wonders when denial was part of the mix. Drake was there too, sitting in front of the computer and both of them seemed busy with something, but when Grayson noticed his presence, he turned and gave Damian his full attention.

“Hey there,” he said more warmly than he had any right to be. “Welcome back, kiddo.”

Tim threw at him a cold glance before returning his gaze to the screen and any hope Damian had of making this quick, died when Dick starting walking towards him.

“I'm sorry things didn't go well this time.”

Damian had spent too much time with Todd clearly, because his first impulse was to answer as crassly as him. “A mere setback, it comes with the territory.”

“Look at it this way, we can all work at this together now.”

“If you must.”

Like hell, Damian was going to bury everything about his cover a never brought it up again, even if he had to go and look for trouble to make it up for it.

“So,” Dick said in a playful tone and a little pause. “What do you think?”

Grayson was referring to the suit, but he must thought Damian needed the clarification because he extended his arms, trying to show better the assemble. It wasn't all different from the original suit he once donned but Damian could see the small changes... changes based on his own design, mostly in the armor. And in another time, seeing again that ridiculous bat buckle would've make him smile, but at the moment he wasn't in the mood for the small joys of life.

“Acceptable,” was the neutral answer. “Could be better.”

Grayson laughed and it was so irrational how Damian wanted to just hate it; hate a sound he treasured so much he even dreamed of it while walking the barren land of the future.

Whatever Grayson was going to say next it was interrupted by Drake, who didn't even bother in looking in their direction. “Dick, come here and take a look, I think I found something.”

“Sorry,” Grayson said, directed at Damian. “We'll catch up later, okay?”

At the same time that Dick turned around, Damian extended his arm and for a second his hand twitched with the need to grab the cape, but he stopped himself right on time, covering that hand with the other, like it suddenly had its own will and needed it to be controlled.

Before he made a fool of himself, he hurriedly retreated to change his clothes, so he could go to look for Alfred. Damian wouldn't be his parent's son if he couldn't put himself together by the time he made it to the penthouse, where he found the man in the kitchen, preparing what it must be a midnight snack, just like he always used to do when someone was down in the cave working.

“Master Damian,” he said as soon as he saw him, stopping what he was doing. “I'm so relieved to see you again.” He could've said the opposite and the tone he used would've show the true meaning of his words.

“Your lack of faith is disappointing.”

“I'll let you know my faith is always unwavering, sir.”

Ah, Pennyworth, always a lighthouse in the middle of tempestuous nights. Damian could lose everything time after time, but as long as Alfred was there, extending his hand to him, Damian could endure it and even force himself to smile while doing it.

“There was nothing for you to worry about,” he said instead. “If you have time, we could discuss the final details of my mission.” The true intention of his words was clear: he wanted to talk about what happened with Jason away from unwelcomed ears.

Alfred gave him a once-over and the disapproving twist of his mouth told Damian everything he needed to know. “I feel this little conversation will have to wait, I recommend you sleep first.”

“I'm fine.” He said out of principle, because he certainly would prefer not to have important conversations right now.

“I'm afraid this is nonnegotiable, Master Damian.”

“Very well, I'll be talking to you in a few hours then.” He gave a small bow as a goodbye and he turned around to leave, but before taking the first step he added. “It's good to see you were fine in my absence.”

That was the closest he could manage to said he missed Alfred, but it was understood regardless.

Damian took a so much needed shower and while it was refreshing enough, it did little to relax him. After he made a quick check to make sure everything was in place in his room, he turned off the lights and climbed on the bed; at this point in his night routine is when he'd usually took the earbuds and music player that were on the nightstand, so he could sleep without waking up at the smallest sound. But today he made no attempt to move and just lied there, eyes wide open even if the only thing he could see was the darkness surrounding him.

When his eyes filled with tears to the point where they threatened to fall out, he just absentmindedly wiped them with the tips of his left index and thumb. Normally crying came with warnings: a lump in his throat, a tickle in his nose, a sting in his eyes... it was rarely this easy and sudden, leaving him unable to just will the tears away; he turned to his right side, curling up and hiding his head under his arms and the pillow. The whole time Damian didn't make a sound even when he had to start breathing through his mouth.

He left behind the League long ago... but crying still felt like a sin.

The next day found him in a better mood for his conversation with Pennyworth... at least what it passed for better given the circumstances.

When he first decided to talk with Alfred about this mystical cure he knew about - which design he attributed to one of his tutors as a side project from his mother - and how it could help Jason, Damian tried really hard to convey the sincerity of his intentions and the mastery of his skills to pull it off.

Alfred asked question after question and Damian did his best to be as truthful as possible, without giving away his ruse of just being the right kind of person at the right time and place. Astonishingly, Pennyworth agreed that something like what Damian wanted to do was better left under wraps, because even if Dick knew that helping Jason was the right thing to do, he'd be more reticent in doing something so drastic, not without proof that Damian was saying the truth or being completely sure it'd work; it was a testament then, of how much trust he had gained from Pennyworth for him to go along with Damian's plans without doubting his methods. Damian wasn't sure if he really changed enough for an adult to finally recognize he wasn't just a stupid child, one with too many skills for his own good, or if somehow this was just Alfred being terribly conditioned by his father into doing morally questionable things in secret. Whatever the case, it was a godsend for someone trying to change the past without risking the future.

Tea time was the most appropriate moment to talk about Damian's little adventures in kidnapping and after he was done explaining the important parts, he took out a pen drive from one of his pockets and put it in the middle of the table.

“It contains my whole conversation with him, although you might want to skip my readings.”

Alfred looked at the pen drive like it was an object he was seeing for the first time and not being very impressed with it. “I think it's for the best if you destroy it,” he held the cup of tea that was in front of him and took a sip. “Some things are better left between two people.”

It wasn't the answer that Damian was expecting, but it was entirely just like Pennyworth to said something like that. He retrieved the pen drive and put it back where it had been previously and none of them say anything for a moment. Damian distracted himself by watching his reflection on his own cup of tea, still hating Earl Gray but drinking it anyway, because Alfred liked it.

“I don't believe things have changed,” Damian finally said. “But whatever happens now it's going to be entirely on him.”

They spoke about that a couple of times already, about how it was the most likely possibility that Todd was still going to raise chaos whenever he went, Lazarus' side effects or not. The only thing Damian did was to give him back agency and in a way, make him more dangerous. Jason with stupid ideas like dressing like a rejected superhero and challenging all the criminals in a hundred-mile radius, had still been manageable enough for an unwilling Batman and a bellicose Robin... but Todd with the advantage of a clear head? Well... good luck, Grayson and Drake, Damian was out.

But despite the discouraging prediction, Damian was convinced that Jason would follow a similar pattern to the Todd he knew, because as time passed, Todd relented on his own and gradually came around, becoming part of their tragic family again. Maybe this time Todd could stay away from this whole “bat-family” mess, surely it would save him a lot of heartbreak, of that Damian could attest well.

“And that's all I wanted for,” Alfred answered, more soft and open. “Master Jason has been through so much, at the very least he deserves the right of choosing the path he wants to follow, on his own. And for that I will be forever grateful, my boy.”

“Pennyworth, please, I'm allergic to niceties.”

Alfred didn't insist because in the course of their coexistence, he realized very early that Damian didn't feel comfortable with displays of affection or gratitude, something Alfred assumed had to do with his upbringing. The truth of course, was more complicated, because the current reason was that Damian didn't feel like he deserved any of those demonstrations; he wasn't being selfless or self-sacrificing in his actions, it was the complete opposite: he was desperately trying to amend the biggest mistake of his life, even if it meant breaking the laws of time and space, because that's how big his regret and egoism were.

And speaking of mistakes...

“There's something else I'd like to discuss, this too, requires your discretion.”

“Oh,” Alfred raised both eyebrows, preparing himself to hear something shocking because the first time Damian asked for something like this, he told him about the Lazarus Pit and his intentions for Jason. “Do tell.”

“I want to acquire a property from my father's state, I'll pay its fair price, of course. There's a project I want to start now that I have back my own founds.”

“I'm sure this can be easily solved, I don't think there's a need for you to pay to have access to the family's state. What asset are you interested in?”

Damian straightened up against the back of the chair and put his hands over the table, intertwining his fingers. “The MacDubh Castle in the Gaweyne Island.”

“...oh, my.”

Usually when Damian called for Colin, he did it late in the night, when he knew Colin was already out doing his own business. This time however, he asked if it's was possible for them to meet as early as ten o'clock.

That's how he found himself waiting at the agreed hour, sitting on the roof's edge of one of the buildings that were next to the street he asked Colin to meet. To Colin's credit, he was late only fifteen minutes and Damian couldn't help but smile at seeing his figure approaching under the street's lights, looking like the most untrustworthy character with that terrible trench coat and hat. Clearly it was about time Damian did something to remedy that attire.

Colin stopped close to the corner looking for him, first in his surroundings and then, because he knew him well at this point, he looked up, finding him without much trouble, happily waving a hand at him. Damian chose that moment to stand up and then, without even thinking about it, he jumped, arms firmly grasping his cape and spreading it against the wind. Colin seemed positively awed when he securely landed in front of him, something he missed being able to do due to the lack of appropriate equipment made especially for him.

“You have a new costume!”

Of course only a kid would pay more attention to that than the reason of their meeting or Damian gliding from a building. Calling it new was an exaggeration, it was basically the same design as his League uniform but everything was black; from head to toe there wasn't even the smallest flicker of color, nor there existed any design or symbol that could exhibit an allegiance or selfhood. The bigger changes were only the pointy ends of his cape and the laced up boots he had been thinking about. Outside of that, Damian was just a shadow. In more ways than one.

“Now you really look like a ninja!”

“I can take you down.” Colin laughed and Damian turned around so he could hide the slight twitch of his mouth that betrayed a smile, and started to walk. “Let’s go before it gets too late.”

Contrary to what one would expect, Colin didn't ask where were they going but hurried to his side excitedly. “You were right!”

“I'm right about a lot of things, you have to be more specific.”

Colin playfully showed him, always mindful of their size difference, so Damian only staggered for a couple of steps. “Batman is back!” Now the excitement made more sense. “He put Scarecrow in Arkham! Everybody is talking about it, even robbers and thugs, some are scared because they think he's back from the death, like a zombie or some kind of demon.”

Oh, child, if only you knew. “Good, they deserve to be scared.”

“They deserve worst,” that right there was one the reasons Damian and Colin got along so well in the first place. “But I'm just happy he's finally back, I mean, we were handling it, but there's things only he can do and who knows, maybe next time he needs to be away for a little, he can let us in charge?” He sounded so hopeful that Damian didn't have the heart to tell him that it was very unlikely. “Have you been able to talk to him?”

“Barely, he and Robin are very busy at the moment, I imagine it's going to be like that for a while.”

“Oh,” Colin's disappointment was momentary, because next he seemed as animated as before. “And how's your brother?”

Damian had to stop himself from cringing because ugh... he had done a lot of unwise things and calling Todd “brother” was definitely one of them. But at the moment it seemed like the easiest way to convince Colin to help him, because kidnapping some random guy without any context undeniably sounded like criminal behavior, but saying he was trying to help his brother, who was in a similar situation like Colin had been at the beginning with Bane's Venom, was a much more sensible explanation.

“Alive. Hopefully not psychotic anymore, only time will tell.”

“Oh, alright, hope he gets well soon.”

This was Damian's life now, this kind of absurdity.

“Where are we going?” Colin finally asked the most important question and it only took him a couple of minutes.

“There.” Damian pointed to some spot in front of them.

Colin squinted his eyes, trying to figure out what Damian's was referring to. “Bat Burger?” He asked uncertainty.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“To celebrate the possibility that I may be able to keep my spine intact.”

“Okaaay... are we really going there?”

“I'm not being clear?”

“It's not that, it's just... I didn't know, I don't have money with me, sorry.”

“I do, enough to buy anything and everything you want. And I'm not accepting refusals or else I'll remove your permissions to access the Grave.”

When Damian decided to baptize their little hideout with the ominous name of “the Grave”, Colin had alarmingly asked why like any normal person would, to which Damian replied that their activities as vigilantes were an absolute secret and secrets went to the grave. Colin must've thought it sounded “cool”, because he warmed up to the name instantly.

“You can't do that,” and he sounded genuinely offended. “I helped a lot with stuff.”

“We're not a democracy.”

This time when Colin tried to shove him again, Damian dodged it, because he knew it wasn't a playful push what was awaiting him.

Naturally, Damian's will was imposed at the end and although Colin seemed still hesitant while ordering, he didn't have problems to happily start eating once their food was on the table.

Bat Burger was at this point a relatively small business, with just three restaurants in the city. It opened not long ago to a moderate acceptation, but he knew that in the next few years it was going to grow into a very lucrative chain. Once Colin had commented about wanting to visit it, but Damian, busy with the need of being a warrior and not a kid, never thought that was probably Colin's way of expressing his desire of going there with him.

The best thing about a restaurant with a gimmick such as this, was that Colin and Damian didn't raise brows and could pass as some fools playing superhero dress-up or something; surely they must've a Batman cosplayer at least once a week. So no one questioned Damian's sword - that he put in the seat next to him -, or the fact that he used a batarang to slice a piece of his hamburger. He considered the piece - a perfect quarter of the whole - for a moment, like it was a clue in a crime scene before finally putting it in his mouth; he carefully chewed before finally swallowing with an unconvinced look on his face.

“Would you like the rest of my hamburger?” Damian asked while pointing to his food with a hand gesture more appropriate to reveal culinary wonders.

“Why? You didn't like it?”

“I limit my consumption of meat to what is necessary but I was curious, the advertisement highly exaggerates, this is below average at best.”

“Really?”

“See for yourself.”

With Damian's encouragement, Colin took a good bite of the now infamous hamburger. “It's not bad, I think is tasty.”

“Tt, I'm a snob then.” And he took one of the fries from his order directly to his mouth.

“You're not, you just talk funny.”

“I can hurt you, severely.”

And like every time Damian threatened him, Colin just laughed. “See? You talk funny but you're also funny.”

Damian just sighed, all pretense and theatrics. “I used to be feared.”

Colin giggled because clearly he was having more fun in this place than Damian, so to appease him, he offered him his box of nuggets. “Do you want one?”

“No, thank you.” He answered with a wrinkle of his nose.

Acting like this was an actual problem, Colin looked over the table to the things he ordered, finally stopping in the stickers that came with said order of nuggets. “And a sticker?”

Now that caught Damian's attention. A couple of colorful stickers with the Batman symbol were a far cry from the toys that eventually will come with their meals, but Damian found himself taking the blue one because it made him think of something else.

“They could at least introduce some variety, Batman's not the only one keeping this city standing.”

“Well, we're at Bat Burger.”

“Batman's overrated.”

Damian didn't understood the “gravity” of his words until he heard Colin's gasp of surprise. “That's not true.”

Maybe it was the ridiculousness of the place they were in, but he couldn't help the sudden need of doubling down. “There's dozens of heroes better than him, I can even use them to count instead of sheep.”

“Take that back! Batman is amazing even when he doesn't have powers, because he can always win without them.”

Colin could try to look like he was very offended, but the slightly tremor of his lips gave him away, so Damian put his left elbow over the table so he could rest his head against his hand, smirking. “Nightwing could easily defeat him, if he really wanted to,” and he made a point of taking another fry and biting it with his canines. “Or in terms you will understand better... he'll wipe the floor with Batman any day of the week.”

He caught the ketchup package that Colin threw at him, so Damian did accordingly and threw it back and from there, an array of things flew over the table - but not food, because both of them had respect for it -, so it wasn't surprising that by the time they tried to use the trays too, they were promptly kicked out.

And while sitting on the sidewalk in the cold of the night, finishing their food, they were still laughing.

⪻Chapter 10

Chapter 12⪼

#f.r.w.#chap11

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angstyaches · 2 years

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something appeals to me about the idea of henry, who has been forced to learn to take care of himself because his body does not cooperate otherwise, telling donnacha off for not looking after himself properly when he’s injured. he strikes me as the type that might try to walk something off that he should really just sit down and ice for a while… especially if he had endured some lowkey (not mean-spirited) teasing about it from his team

I don't think there's anything better than hearing about these detailed, specific scenarios that people come up with for your OCs. Thank you for this lovely idea, anon!

CW: chronic pain, sports injury (lightly described), enduring injury to save face, general awkwardness for a minute, food mention.

___

Living with someone like Donnacha, Henry often thought, was a lot like living with an energetic dog. At least twice a week, he went around to the flatmates' rooms and tried to convince someone to take a walk with him, he got over-excited every time he heard the postman put something through the letterbox, and snatched up leftover food, often before it'd even been put back in the fridge.

And Henry didn't know a lot about dogs, but he did know that if something was wrong with your dog - a sickness or an injury - then chances were it would go off its food.

"Do you want some chicken?"

Henry looked up from his screen. He'd been having a good mental health day, so he'd dug his laptop out and set himself up on the living room couch to improve his chances of some human interaction.

Donnacha was holding a clear oven dish that had once held a whole, cooked chicken, which had been picked clean on one side the previous day. To some, half a leftover chicken might have seemed like a lot, but it was a standard serving size for Donnacha.

"Really?" Henry couldn't hide that he was intrigued by the offer. He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten chicken that hadn't been processed and squished into nugget or goujon form and then frozen for an indefinite amount of time. Donnacha's mum often sent him back with home-cooked food after a visit home, but it wasn't every day that Donnacha went around pawning it off.

"Yeah, really. It goes bad after tomorrow, and I don't think I can eat it."

"Oh." Henry paused and tried to remember what time Donnacha had gotten home that evening. "Sure, I might have some later. Did you... Did you already eat? Did you and the boys go somewhere after your match?"

There was no usual eye-roll, which generally followed Henry quaintly referring to Donnacha's rugby friends as "the boys", as opposed to "the lads". Instead, Donnacha just shook his head and said "no", and it was then that the glassy look in his eyes came into focus.

Henry sat forward. His face must have told Donnacha that he'd given something away, because he cringed and retreated back into the kitchen. Something in his step wrenched Henry's concern levels up another notch.

"Donnacha?"

He heard a decisive throat-clearing from the kitchen, and no reply.

"Donnacha, you okay?"

Still nothing. Either Donnacha really did have poor hearing, or he often pretended to, to avoid uncomfortable conversations.

God damn it, this boy. Henry shoved his laptop onto the couch and gripped his cane to push himself up. His walk to the kitchen was relatively quick and painless, so by the time he got there and saw Donnacha wrapping the chicken back up in tin foil, he was completely focused on him.

And as he turned to walk towards the fridge with the leftover chicken, Donnacha's stride took a brief sideways wobble. The half of his face that Henry could see scrunched up.

"Whoa," Henry said. "What's wrong with your foot, hon?"

"Nothing!" Donnacha grunted wordlessly as he opened the fridge door and slid the oven dish into a perfectly-sized gap on one of the shelves. "Just a little sprain."

Henry's eyes darted between Donnacha's legs, adequately exposed in the soft, drawstring shorts he wore around the flat after he'd showered and settled in for the night. He was wearing open-back slippers without socks, and now that he was looking, Henry could tell there was some discolouration and swelling going on around his right ankle.

"Donnacha, that looks awful!"

Donnacha made some attempt to look confused, but his gaze almost immediately dropped to his own foot. He slapped on a smile. "Oh. That?"

"When did you do that?"

"It's not that bad," Donnacha laughed.

"When?"

"I don't know. Wednesday? It was raining, and I slipped on the field."

Henry's stomach dropped. "And you played on that today?"

"Hen," Donnacha said plainly. He made it back to the table without wincing, though he did plant a hand on the wood to steady himself, shifting all of his weight to his left side. "It's better to just keep playing than sit it out. O'Rourke had to have his appendix out last year and the lads are still getting on to him for missing the quarter-final. It's better this way."

Henry blinked, his brain hurting more from trying to understand this than if he'd been looking at a page full of Ancient Greek.

"Trust me, it's grand."

"It might seem grand," Henry murmured, unclenching his teeth long enough to speak, "but that's... that's how you can fuck your body up for life, Donnacha."

As was to be expected, Donnacha gulped and looked at the floor. His eyes inevitably glimpsed over Henry's cane before he looked away again, searching for anything else to focus on.

The awkwardness sat there, gnawing at Henry's gut, for a few seconds. He was at a loss for what to say, besides just being plain.

"I mean, obviously I... had less of a choice in the matter," Henry murmured.

"Shit. I'm sorry. I know that."

Henry nodded.

Donnacha sighed and leaned harder on the table. He dropped his head. "It sounds stupid, but I think... I think I thought if I kept playing, then it just wouldn't be real?"

Henry nodded again, slower this time. "Yeah. That does sound stupid."

Donnacha exhaled through a laugh. Reckoning he should let the boy know that he was worried, and not as angry as he was coming across, Henry reached over and patted the back of his head.

"Call your physio in the morning," Henry said. He thought about adding or else, but thought the mock seriousness might undermine how serious this actually was.

"I will." Donnacha was nodding as he looked up at Henry's face. He sounded surprised to hear himself say it, and even went ahead and said it again. "I will."

#Lucyverse Donnacha #Lucyverse Henry #whump fic #hurt and comfort #hurt comfort #sickfic #injury mention #Lucyverse

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dragynkeep · 2 years

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I'm sorry to be coming into your inbox like this but I've just had a hell week and I haven't been able to talk about this with anyone so if you want you can delete this but I need somewhere to get this out of my system.

So last Sunday my dad was out on his boat with his friends catching up and drinking. Well later that night he decides to drive and get a coffee. Except when he went to turn into the parking lot he slammed into another car, front of his was pushed in, window cracked, his his chest hit against the steering wheel. Just a total mess. I think there might've been kids in the other car.

Police are called obviously my dad has minor injuries and goes to the hospital. Except he refused a breathalyzer and because he's clearly drunk he gets arrested at the hospital and spends a night in jail. My mom had to pick him up the next day. And now his license also got suspended.

Then he tells me he's facing possible jail time because he got a dwi, got into an accident, and refused the breathalyzer so now he has to spend thousands on a lawyer to help him avoid prison. Because if he gets convicted with a felony he'll lose his pension which he uses to largely pay for the house bill's. So if he goes away I'll lose my house.

Oh but that's not all, twice this week he asked me to try and leave early from work or take off and I'm working 2 jobs this summer. I asked my boss if I could leave early on Tuesday got permission and then he turns around and says actually never mind. I'm like are you fucking kidding me you want me to look like a liar in front of my bosses? Then the other day on Friday I'm forced to take off that night because both my parents will work and I have to watch my brother. But I had to drive them both to run errands. And the whole time my brother is yelling, touching everything and my dad is yelling at me. I go a slightly longer way to get to the highway and he's yelling, I accidentally miss one turn because they're both distracting me and he screams I'm gonna get them killed. Like can you chill? I took the next street we were at the place he needed to go. He got his dry cleaning, the marina to fill up his boat, he told me he'd fill up my car and buy us dinner as thanks but he's snapping at me and yelling the whole time telling me I need an attitude adjustment and remember who I'm talking to. Like I'm not a grown adult and he needs me.

We finally get home I can shower and try to relax then one of my brothers friends just comes over. Whatever they can play a bit before my dad leaves for work. Except this little asshole then says oh hey my girlfriend is throwing a pool party we can go but we need adult supervision.

So my dad says ask your sister. And so my brother comes and I'm sitting there like excuse me? I literally took off work and spent over an hour of my time driving you around town and now you want me to go to some kids house I don't even know to go to a party that I don't know how long it will be or where it is? And be responsible for two 10 years olds that have serious behavior issues? Yeah no I told my brother sorry but we're in for the night. He throws a tantrum says he hates me yadda yadda yadda. But then my dad says I'm so selfish such a selfish girl if it doesn't benefit me I won't do it.

What. The. Actual. Fuck.

I got this man coffee to help cope with the stressful situation, I've taken off work multiple times to be available to help. I drove his ungrateful ass all afternoon to do things he needed and I'm the selfish one?! So I was fed up and told him that he yelled oh it was 3 places big fucking deal but he filled my car up and got me dinner. Yeah he said he would do that he volunteered that when he asked me to take off 2 days earlier. I didn't ask for that. We start arguing yelling I'm so fucking done. Then the asshole has the audacity to come into my room and says he has enough to deal with as is.

I then tell him this isn't my fault. Then he just screams bloody murder at me. Telling me to shut the fuck up cursing me out calling me every name under the sun saying if I don't like how things are I can pack a bag and leave.

So anyway fuck my dad for being so stupid to drive drunk, lose his car and license, forced to spend vacation money on a lawyer to avoid jail time, making me miss work when I have my own car insurance to pay and I'm saving for school and then yelling at me when I willingly make myself available to help him out. And I try to tell him unless you know for a 100% fact you need me don't ask me off for work because my bosses will be less likely to give it to me and I don't want to be seen as unreliable and get fired. They like me for now I got a bonus I want to keep it that way because if he does go to jail then I'll have to help my mom with whatever bill's comes our way. He then snidely says oh he won't ask me for favors anymore last time he'll be in my car and I'm not seeing the bigger picture I just don't get it like I'm a child. No I get it perfectly dickhead he loves to remind me he might not get off. If that happens we'll need more than one income to stay afloat.

But yeah fuck my dad for causing this whole stupid mess that's been driving me insane while I have to pretend like everything is normal and fine at my jobs. Can't tell friends or family what's going on and I'm worried if things go south I may have to quit school before it even starts to help out.

Just fuck my father he's such an ungrateful asshole and I'm done he's dead to me if he goes to jail I'll never call or visit and even when he gets out our relationship is done. Hopefully I can finish school soon meet some good people and finally move the fuck out of this hellhole and live my own life.

Sorry for this but it's been a bad week my parents constantly hurt me my brother is too much and I'm scared I'll possibly end up homeless 😪

Sorry to hear that and sorry it took so long to answer. I hope that you’re feeling better now, and things will look up for you!

#answered #luke.txt

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jigenstits · 2 years

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aight have a 'jeeg is alone and busy with draining a whiskey bottle' headcanon situation thing. i'll try to keep this from getting too dark. or heavy. because my headcanons tend to go there. if you feel like this got too heavy, feel free to trash this ask.

so i dunno how was your experience with alcohol, or if you ever had one. but alcohol doesn't drown out the pain, it just. makes you not care, it removes the filters, it snuffs out the reasonable, thinking parts of you. it robs you of your defenses, it allows every single repressed thought to bubble up to the surface and forces you to face it.

now how does this apply to jigen. well. i like to thing he has Issues™️. we've all seen his exes. there's a pattern. and it's not a good one (look at crazy mash, for example). so imagine one night, nothing is happening, lupin is gone for whatever reason (laying low, out to get groceries, chaisng tail, etc.) and jigen is alone with his thoughts and a bottle of whiskey, 40% abv, just like any other whiskey. many people drink out of boredom, but i don't think jigen does that, i think he respects the alcohol as an object, something of value. he pours himself a shot, just like any other night. for him it's a ritual, he does it because he doesn't feel right without it (behold, a functional alcoholic. mostly functional.)

But the more he drinks, the more he relaxes, loosens up, allows the Thoughts™️ to trickle back. he starts reminiscing about things he'd rather not remember. so he drinks more. maybe he spirals, maybe he doesn't, but his thought process gets really, really negative and he no longer drinks for the enjoyment of it. at its core, alcohol is a poison. jigen keeps pouring himself shot after shot, at some point when his coordination leaves the building, he decides to drink straight out of the bottle. he's hurting, and it just doesn't stop, so he keeps going and going, knowing very well he's past his limit but the thoughts are still there and it hurts and it just doesn't stop. he pretty much gives himself alcohol poisoning over the course of the night, having drank a bit over a bottle of whiskey. maybe he threw a beer or two into the mix. or he found another bottle and went with that. anyway he doesn't have a good time. his body had enough of his bs, he drags himself into the bathroom, lets everything run its course, he crawls to bed and falls asleep within minutes, as opposed to the usual hours.

and the hangover he got from this, oh man. he swears he'll quit, but deep down, he knows he won't. such is the vicious cycle. he pretty much spends the day in bed or in the shower, eating foods he knows are safe. 'safe' as in 'will not cause me to vomit uncontrollably because i fucked up my stomach last night'. headache/feeling of rubber bands around his skull, light sensitivity, touch sensitivity, he got the usual going on. his hat spares him of even greater suffering. And all this could've been avoided if he drank water along with the liquor.

man alcoholism is my jam, i could go on and on about it. doubly so because i see small things in jeeg that make me go 👀, but not necessarily in a good way. he shows The Patterns™️ imo.

- 🥃🚬

oh yeah he is definitely a (barely) functioning alcoholic

i think lupin is secretly really worried about it but doesnt wanna bring it up bc like. jigen knows he has a problem, he doesnt need to be told that he does

#also to answer that first bit; i turned 18 only a few months ago so i am a tiny baby boy with very little alcohol experience #but thanks to peer pressure(tm) ive drank a good bit before #im more experienced with weed when it comes to substance use tbh HJGH #but anyway yes i love these hcs keep em coming pleasee #//txt #//inbx #//scnro #//hcs #jigen

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garyandpary · 2 years

Text

Behind Closed Doors

ambiguous character x black!reader

Content Warnings: Intimidation, Non-con, Forced Orgasm(s), Dumbification, Oral Sex (m. and fem. receiving), Slapping, Unprotected Sex, and Underage Sex. Mentions of bullying

i fucked around with this one

minors read this shit

(A/N: Please don't romanticize this. This is only for funsies and none of this is real.)

(A/N: 🐺🐺 = smut part.)

First Person POV:

Fear.

Fear is something I've always felt. It’s something that I am at this point ever since he came to my school.

It was the start of 7th grade when he came to my school, at first he didn't notice me and hung around the 'popular' kids. A lot of the girls in my class had a crush and at one point I did too but my crush on him quickly disappeared when I saw him slap one of my classmates in the hallway at lunch. He saw me in that hallway and he has been tormenting me since then.

At first, it was nothing I couldn't deal with like purposely bumping into me, stealing my pencils, and shutting my Chromebook. But then it escalated in 8th grade, he started to trip me on the concrete in front of the school, talk about me to his friends, and pull on my hair. In 9th grade it got worse, he'd talk to my friends and got them to leave me alone, he'd spread rumors about me, and he somehow found my social media and began cyber bullying me.

It’s now 11th grade and he has bullied me for the past five years. My depression and anxiety have become a permanent part of me. I've since deactivated my socials, I've also begun binge eating to deal with my depression, and started to wear oversized clothing to cover myself so no one can comment about my weight but they still do.

When I woke up this morning it was a normal day for me, I got up, took a shower, did my skincare routine, did my hair, and got dressed for school. Looking at my form in the mirror I was pleased despite his words I still thought of myself as beautiful. The long flowy black skirt looked great on me with the black long-sleeved shirt I wore under my oversized white and gray band tee. Slipping on my black platforms, I grabbed my backpack and went out the door.

As soon as I walked into the school I heard whispers, they never really bothered me but I just wished they talked about something else other than me. Slipping on my earphones I blasted music to block them out. Avoiding HIM was something that I was good at; taking the stairs on the far ends of the school, being the first out of class and the last one in, walking faster than half of the track team, and delving myself into the background.

For the most part, it worked, I found comfort in the fact that he wasn't around me and degrading me on every little thing that shouldn't matter to him. But today I couldn't shake the feeling that something terrible was going to happen. The back of my head tingles throughout the day and somehow I could never shake the feeling.

At lunch I went to the bathroom on the far end of the school, usually, nobody went there. It was my safe space. Sitting in the handicap stall I was eating the lunch I prepared when I heard someone come into the restroom. They went in and out of a stall then I heard someone else come in, and soon I heard what I think was crying then mumbles as a stall door opened. I stayed quiet and still, till I heard what was two people having sex. Slowly getting up and grabbing my stuff I walked as quietly as I can out of that restroom.

Finally, inside the hallway, I took a deep breath, "Them niggas are nasty, in a restroom, especially at a school one” I thought in disgust as I shook my head. Walking up the hallway I was sad that my hiding spot was compromised because some two McNasties wanted to have sex. Checking the time it was already time for 5th hour. " You know what, Ima just mind my business and go about my day," I said to myself and that’s what I did.

I went about my day, doing my usual routine of avoiding him. It worked and I haven't seen him at all today except when I'm in class. The school was finally over and I was almost out the front doors when I remembered I had a club after school, turning around I sped walked to the club room. Opening the door I walked in, the lights were off and nobody was there. Checking my school email just in case, the teacher said there was no club today. Groaning I turned around again and fought the air in frustration, shuffling towards the door I opened but was pushed back inside.

Stumbling back into a table I looked at who pushed me, it was him. My eyes widen as I saw him shut the door and lock it, I snapped my head away from him and looked at the floor, I was frozen in fear as many thoughts went through my head like what does he want with me, I didn't do anything to provoke him I think, or what did I do? Hearing his footsteps coming towards me I saw his bright white Air Force 1s in my peripheral vision. I felt his breath on my left ear, immediately squeezing my eyes shut to try and block him out.

"You think you can avoid me, huh?" He whispered into my ear, still frozen in fear I couldn't move.

"Answer. Me." He harshly whispered again. Shaking my head no, the sound of my hair beads clacking together filled my ears.

"Why have you been avoiding me?" He said normally but this time it was filled with more venom than the last other times and slightly deeper. Stumbling over my words I couldn't make a coherent sentence.

"Since you can't talk properly, I'll talk for you, I think you're avoiding me because you have a crush on me." I could hear the smile on him when he said that. My eyes widened even more as I turned to look at him.

“No I don't, who said that?" I stuttered out nervously laughing at the end. Finally noticing how close we were, I took a step back bumping into a chair, I looked down at my leg looking right back up as I heard his laugh. Slowly moving around the table putting some distance between us.

"Me, I think you do, you let me do whatever I want to you and you never say a thing about. Like a doll." He said leaning over the table.

"Well I don't, so please leave me alone," I told him, putting a little base in my voice, my eyes flickering between him and the door. Noticing my eye movements he jumped over the table as I ran across the room around the other tables. As I got close to the door I felt his hands grab the side of my head and slam me into the hard wall. Feeling dazed as my ears rang, he pulled my hair making me look up at him.

🐺🐺"If you stayed right where you were this would've been better for you, I would've been nicer but now I don't want to." He said, shaking my head and then letting it go. Still looking up at him I just sat there in utter terror as I watched him unbuckle his belt and open his pants. The tears that filled my eyes were now falling down my face. Even though I didn't want to touch him ever, I knew that if I didn't comply he would get violent and I wouldn't be able to win that fight.

Squeezing my eyes close, I heard the rustling of clothes and soon felt his hand pull on my braids hard. "Open your fucking eyes." He said while tugging on my braids again. As a quiet sob racked through my body, I couldn't bring myself to do what he said.

"Open.Them." He commanded pulling my braids again but this time he got a small squeak from me. Trembling I opened my eyes, my sight blurred by my tears but still, I saw him holding his dick in my face, and by just looking at I sobbed harder. Looking up at his face I could see him smile then bite his lip as he nudged my lips with his tip like he was saying 'open up’.

Taking a deep breath shakily I opened my mouth slowly as I did he thrust hard into my mouth. My eyes widen I gripped his thighs to push him back but he instead placed his hands on the sides of my head and proceeds to fuck himself into my mouth. With every thrust I could feel him touching the back of my throat I was disgusted by him.

Moans filled the air as he fucked my mouth for what it felt like forever, "Fucking hell," he grumbled as I felt his dick throb. Pulling his dick back slightly he thrust himself deeply making me gag as I slapped his thighs so I could breathe. Looking up I saw him hunched over with his eyes closed tight and that’s when he finally came. Ropes of his cum filled my mouth, even more, he opened his eyes and we made contact. He chuckled at that.

Softly slapping my face he pulled out of me shuffling back, "That felt good, I might have to do that with you some more, how about that huh?" He said, smiling down at me.

"Are you done, can I leave?" My voice rasped taking in deep breaths as my tears dried up.

Shaking his head no with furrowed eyebrows, "You thought we were done with this, I have a great opportunity to do what I've always wanted to do, plus I haven't even gotten started." Chuckling as he said that.

'I want to kill him, I want him to die but if I don't comply I can get seriously hurt. Even though I probably weigh more than him, he's stronger than me by a long shot and curse him for being in football. Just go along and this will be over soon.' I thought while clenching my fist, I felt his eyes on me as I stared straight into the wall.

"Stand up," he commanded again. My eyes snapped to him then to the ground, I leaned onto the wall pulling myself up from the floor, grabbing my arm he dragged me over to the table I bumped into earlier, pushing me to lie back on the table. Standing in between my legs he began to rub my sides, staring at the ceiling, my body trembling as he pulled my shirt up over my push-up bra. Leaning down he started to kiss his way up my pudgy stomach to my breast, grasping my tit in his hand he took it out of the bra and began sucking on it, harshly.

Gasping at his touch I gripped the sides of the table to solidify myself, using his hands he put them under my skirt grabbing the back of my thighs pushing them onto the table and scrunching my skirt up around my waist.

"Raise your hips," I did as he said as I squeezed my eyes shut to prepare myself for what to come next. He ripped my panties, making me swallow a small sob, I tried to hold in my tears.

Wet. That is what I felt. Snapping my eyes back open I sat up and looked down to see him sitting down in a chair with his hands holding my thighs open.

"What are you doing?" I stuttered out.

Raising an eyebrow he said "I'm prepping you, you thought I was gonna go in all ruthless and shit? I'm mean but not that mean baby. Now lie down and enjoy."

"Wait, wait, hold on-" my words turned into moans as he sucked on my clit, I hunched over grabbing his hair with one hand and leaning on the other one. My moans grew louder as he licked the inside of my cunt. Moving one of his hands over my soft stomach to my breast he grasped my tit, rolling my nipple in between his finger pulling on it when he felt like it.

Still tongue fucking I felt his thumb rub 8's on my clit making my back arch and moan even louder. Feeling pleasure like this course through my body was very very good but I remembered it was him doing this too, so I tried to stifle my sounds. My breath grew heavy as I felt an orgasm coming.

Trying to hold in my orgasm I began to let out small no's. I guess by hearing my words he started to go faster with his movements adding even more pressure to the coil that was turning inside of me. My efforts to hold in my orgasm were all for nothing. Feeling a wave of pleasure wash over me, I came harshly letting out a semi-quiet squeal as I did.

Coming down from my orgasm I thought that was all and he was going to take me but I was wrong, so so wrong. He didn't stop even after I started to hit his head. I tried to pull him away from in between but he never budged. Continuing even after my 2nd orgasm, I was overstimulated and sensitive as tears filled my eyes once again because of that.

After the 3rd one he finally pulled away from in between my legs, standing up he looked at my heaving form and smiled.

"You taste so good baby, I wonder what you feel like on the inside, hmm?" He said while the hand that was rubbing my clit was now circling my hole slowly and his other hand moved from my tit to the table so he could lean on it. Leaning down even more he began kissing and sucking on my neck leaving hickeys in his wake.

Sinking his finger into me, it hurt less than I thought it would. As my cunt adjusted to his finger it was long and rough. Moving in and out slowly going fast, he lifted his head from my neck and peered into my eyes, his face emotionless. It was unsettling, to say the least. My moans grow loud with curse words slipping out every once in a while.

Adding another in me, he started to spread his fingers while keeping the same pace, making me hiss from the burn. Suddenly he stopped and began to do slow strokes, curling his finger while doing so, hitting a spot that made my hips buck and also made my eyes roll back as I let out a very loud moan. My overstimulated body couldn't handle and I came holding his wrist to try and stop but he instead rubbed my clit then slapped as I squirted.

Sobering up I saw him sitting back in the chair stroking himself with one hand watching my puffy cunt. " Ima fuck you now." He said gruffly, now on his feet, he pulled me to the end of the table and sat me up. My eyes widened once again at his words, my body quivering. I took a breath and leaned my head on his shoulder, clutching onto his grey jacket. Even though I was sobbing on the inside, it had to happen so I leave as fast as I could.

"You'll be fine, I got you. It will feel good baby." He whispered, grabbing my ankle and putting it on his shoulder, the position made my hip burn. Widening his stance he pulled me closer to him. One handheld the back of my neck and the other held his dick that was in between my pussy lips rubbing it up and down.

I could feel his hot breath on my neck as he slipped inside of me. I thought there was going to be more pain but I guess him playing with my pussy helped him. The more he went in the fuller I felt and when he was fully in I could feel my pussy struggling to take him, I felt so full. Breathing harder my eyes blurred and I couldn't clench around him.

" Fuck you're so tight baby, it seems like you can't take dick either." He groaned out, chuckling after. Grabbing my other ankle he put it on his other shoulder, now with my ankles on each shoulder. He picked me up by my ass pulling me against him. Scared of being dropped I wrapped my arms around his neck on instinct and I squeaked because I could feel his tip pressing flush against my cervix making my eyes cross.

"There we go, right -fuck- you feel so good, I'ma start movin' right now." He cooed, his voice strained. Not wanting to say a word to him I just dug my head into his shoulder wanting this to be done. Lifting me, our breaths hitched together, dropping me back down, a sigh left my mouth and a moan left him. He did the same thing as me and put his head on my shoulder.

Repeating his movements, his moans grew louder and my sighs turned into moans. His tip hitting my cervix with every drop, I couldn't comprehend what was going on, his words sounding muffled as I focused on the pleasure and nothing else. One particular drop made my back arch and a high-pitched whine came out of me.

Stopping he whispered in my ear, "So that’s where your soft spot is." Restarting, he moved faster this time and began thrusting harder as well, making my head trickle into a lust-filled haze.

The sound of squelching and skin slapping filled the air mixing in with our moans. It would've been a beautiful sound if it wasn't with him. His grip would surely leave bruises I thought as I leaned my head back with tears streaming down my face. Heat covered my entire body.

“I’ma cum -shit-.” I stammered out. Pulling out right before I can, he stumbled to a table against the wall. He set my feet down on the ground and turned me around, bending me over he put his hand on my back to keep me in place. Sliding his dick back into me making me whimper out, he took his hand off my back and grabbed my arms with both hands. Starting with a deep thrust he began to pound himself into me. I was gasping for air because of his thrust and I couldn't take anymore and came for the nth time with a low groan. The sound of skin slapping together became louder.

Stars spotted my vision as I came down from my high. The edge of the table digging into my stomach was the only I felt beside him, there were no more tears for me to cry as my mind became a mess of jumbled words just like my mouth. The only words that came out of were too much as I kept coming and he didn't not once. He hadn't said a word, only making noises. It felt I was with an animal instead of a man. Neither was better than the other.

As my knees buckled he wrapped an arm around my waist and shoulder leaving mine to fall to my sides. His thrust started to get sloppier than they had been. Slowing down he took a step back, pulling me down with him as he fell to his knees. Hunching himself over me, he repeated his pace from before.

" 'I'm gonna come baby." He said breathily, nuzzling his head into my neck as he clumsily moved down my body to rub my clit. Feeling another one coming I began to sob as I knew I couldn't take anymore. Stuttered no's leaving my drool-covered lips, slowing down he took one more thrust and pulled out coming on my ass. A low groan left him as he did and I came with what I had left. Sleepiness covered my entire being, I tried to stay awake but I wasn't strong enough and I passed out.

Opening my eyes I couldn't see much as my eyes adjusted to the dark, becoming more aware of my surroundings I realized I was in my room and I was in different clothing too. Sitting up I reached for my lamp and turned it out, looking around my room nothing was out of place. It was dark outside and I was in the nightgown I wore last night with my bonnet on my head. Reaching for my phone on the nightstand and the time said 3:13.

"It was a nightmare. Thank god." I said out loud. Grabbing a half drank water I chugged the rest of it before falling back to sleep. Not noticing the grey jacket that was on the end of my bed or the figure that sat in my chair in the corner.

I wished I did.

#tw noncon #tw dumbification #dacryphilia cw #cunalingus #bullying #black!reader #bad end #chubby reader

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jingerhead · 2 years

Note

I mean… 26 has to be andreil right…. I MEAN

If this one doesn't scream Neil then I don't know what does. TW for blood and Jack because Jack is an asshole (homophobic language?)

26 - hahaha no worries, it's not my blood

Neil had been distracted all practice, and he knew it showed.

Wymack had taken over directing the Foxes on what to do next after the third time Neil zoned out, more than once telling him to get his head in the game. But Neil couldn't manage it, which was strange, because exy was his life now. It was just that Andrew never got sick, and yet he was sick enough to have chills and a cough and a high fever.

This had never happened before, so Neil couldn't stop thinking about it. Despite his gut telling him to stay, he'd given in to Kevin and Andrew telling him to go to practice anyway, that he was the captain now, and that he had a responsibility to his team. And sure, Neil did, but they could manage without him.

For the first time in his life, Neil found himself wanting to take care of someone else. He wanted to be by Andrew's side, not because he had to be there, but because he wanted to be. He wanted to make Andrew some cocoa and get him cool towels to bring down his fever and measure out the Dayquil he was supposed to take.

That in itself was disorienting. On top of the fact that Andrew was sick enough to avoid practice? He used to play games while going through the early stages of withdrawal, if this was enough to convince him to take a day off, what the hell was it? Did he have to go to the hospital? Neil should've asked him for a list of symptoms before he left -

"Josten!"

Neil blinked and looked up at Wymack, who had his eyebrows drawn in and a disapproving look on his face. After a second, he just waved a hand and announced that practice was over for the day.

Neil had never been happy that practice was over. What the hell was going on with him? Was he sick?

He moved on autopilot to the locker room, deciding he'd shower back at the dorm and pulled off his gear as quickly as possible. He changed into a T-shirt and sweatpants and used a towel to wipe away the minimal amount of sweat on his skin, eager to get back.

But it would seem that life wasn't going to be easy to him today. Before Neil could slip away, Jack approached, looking far too pleased. He couldn't have anything good to say - not that Jack ever did in the first place.

"Off your game," Jack pointed out.

"A lot on my mind," Neil mumbled, throwing his shoes into his duffle bag and lacing up his sneakers as quickly as he could.

"About Minyard?" Jack asked. "What a shame he's sick. I'm sure he would've been happy to have practice end early."

Neil rolled his eyes, turning his back to Jack and grabbing his jacket. It was cold outside now that it was December, and Neil didn't want to risk getting sick if Andrew already was.

"You that eager to get back?"

Neil wasn't able to pull on his jacket just yet. He waited, because he knew that Jack was going to say something else, something that was going to set him off, because he was still processing that he felt this way at all about...about his something. Yeah, they were something, and whatever he and Andrew were was making Neil want to rush home and take care of him until he got better.

"Aw, you disappointed he can't breathe through his nose well enough to suck your cock?" Jack asked, lips twisted into a smirk.

Neil didn't think. He tucked his fingers into a fist and curled his thumb around them, and in a blink of an eye he twisted and punched Jack in his face. Jack didn't make a noise but stumbled back a step as blood immediately began to flow from his nostrils down his chin.

"Sorry, who couldn't breathe through his nose?" Neil sneered, hand still in a fist.

Jack let out a yell and rushed forward, but not with enough force to push Neil off his feet. The rest of the team was there in a second, pulling the two away from each other just as Wymack walked into the locker room. He let out a long sigh when he saw Jack's face.

"Go get that checked out," he said, jerking his thumb behind him. Jack angrily shook of the hands of his teammates and cupped his nose, stomping away. Wymack then turned to Neil, staring at him for a few seconds. "Cool it, Josten. Walk it off. We'll be talking about this tomorrow."

Everyone in the locker room backed away uneasily, letting Neil push through and rush to the Maserati. He didn't think about waiting for anyone else before driving back to the dorms, taking the steps two at a time to reach the dorm faster, only able to breathe easily once he finally closed the door.

Andrew was inside, leaning against the counter in their kitchenette and holding a mug of cocoa. Neil was almost disappointed to see he'd already made himself a cup, but he reasoned that Andrew would probably want another one later. He dropped his duffle bag and coat, attempting a smile in greeting.

"Blood," Andrew said, not meeting Neil's eyes.

Neil glanced down, seeing the impressive splotch of blood left on his shirt. He let out a hesitant laugh at the sight of it. "No worries," he said, walking closer to Andrew. "It's not my blood."

Andrew grabbed the hem of his shirt and drew it up enough to make sure Neil was telling the truth, his shoulders visibly drooping when he saw no injuries there. "You're back early," he said after a moment, looking up and dropping Neil's shirt.

"Coach had mercy on us."

"Or you caused trouble."

"Why does everyone always assume it's my fault?" Neil asked, leaning against the counter with a huff.

Andrew left that question unanswered. He grabbed his mug again and took a quick sip, sniffing a few times. Neil moved away from the kitchenette to grab a box of tissues, offering one out to Andrew when he came back. Andrew raised an eyebrow just slightly, but accepted the tissue.

"Go shower," he said. "You're still sweaty."

"Okay," Neil said, feeling himself smile once before turning to do as he was told.

#aftg #aftg fanfic #tfc #tfc fanfic #all for the game #all for the game fanfic #andreil #andreil fanfic #andriel #andriel fanfic #jinger's works #jinger answers

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mypoisonedvine · 3 years

Text

artificial scarcity || (soft)dark!Jake Jensen x reader

summary: you'll realize how good he can treat you, how badly you need him, one way or another. you just need a little encouragement, that's all.

word count: 4k, somehow...

warnings: smut! (dubcon; she is fully consenting but under dubious circumstances), drugging (technically), kidnapping, imprisonment, starvation, touch-starved reader, bed sharing, grinding/thigh fucking, size kink, spanking, implied stalking/voyeurism, implied noncon (kinda?), jake being possessive and manipulative and creepy

a/n: this was supposed to be a drabble which is why the pacing might feel a little rushed in the beginning but I hope you guys don’t mind!

Jake was normally a relatively patient guy, especially with you since he had an obvious soft spot for the newest member of the team. But after months of trying to get your attention, of his abysmal flirting not getting him anywhere, of you becoming more and more comfortable with the idea of him as a friend and nothing else, his patience was running thin.

He was tired of waiting for the perfect opportunity to rescue you and show you that he was the perfect guy for you. He was tired of waiting for you to figure out that he could be everything you needed if you just let him. So, he figured he needed to manufacture a chance to save you; he needed to take away some things just to bring them back, show you what it was like to let him take care of you.

Getting close to you was easy, you were teammates and friends so you trusted him. The tricky thing was he didn't want you to know it was him, so he used your trust to lure you right into his trap.

Movie night tonight? There’s some cheesy slasher playing at the drive in at 1930, he texted you as soon as he could to the showtime to decrease the odds of you having any time to tell anyone about your plans to meet up with him; he’d rather not have the heat of being the last person to see you before your disappearance.

yeah sure! are you driving? you replied almost instantly.

Yep, I’ll pick you up at S Lamar and Hanover in 10, he informed you, knowing it was close to your apartment but far away from any security cameras or likely witnesses.

He parked a block away and walked around the corner to see you standing there under the flickering streetlight looking at your phone. You were waiting for him, and as he hid behind cover to come closer, you were clearly looking around for where he might be. Thankfully, you didn't see him or his tranq gun, and he got your neck on the first shot.

He ran to catch you before you fell, relishing the weight of your body limp and pliant in his arms. Somehow, he resisted the urge to play with you now, knowing it would be worth the wait to let his whole plan come to fruition.

The room he locked you in was dark and damp, barely any light but enough to see the half-full water bottle he left for you; your chain was short but you could reach everything you needed. It broke his heart to hear your cries but he had to ignore them, if he came in now it wouldn't make sense. He needed to be patient.

When the video feed from his camera inside showed that you'd fallen asleep for the night, he snuck in to bring you a new water bottle and a little granola bar since you'd screamed all day about being hungry. You seem surprised when you woke up and saw it, quickly grabbing the bar but taking a long time to examine and smell it first before eating, like you were afraid it was poisoned. But you ate, and drank your water, and waited for rescue.

Day 3 was the hardest to watch. You tugged at your chain so much that he worried you'd hurt yourself. He decided tomorrow was the last day because he couldn't take any more of this.

On the fourth day, he waited until you started to cry yourself to sleep before shutting down his equipment and finally coming to the door; he took a deep breath, preparing himself, before dramatically kicking it down and gasping when he saw you. He called your name into the dark and you barely had the energy to open your eyes, poor thing.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" he yelped, dashing over to where you were chained and picking at the lock. "I'm gonna get you out, don't worry, you're safe now."

"Jensen...?" you mumbled sleepily, making him smile and stroke your face a little.

"Yeah, I'm right here."

He carried you to his car and drove you home-- not your old home, your new one which also happened to be his apartment.

"I think it's time to wake up, I'm guessing you wanna take a shower," he cooed at your sleeping form, watching you stir in his arms before finally blinking your eyes open and looking up at him.

"Oh," you whispered. "Did I fall asleep?"

"Yes," he laughed, "you've been out the whole ride here."

"Oh…” you repeated, “and where are we?"

"My apartment. I didn't want to leave you alone right now."

You nodded, seemingly in agreement. "You can put me down now."

He reluctantly did as you'd asked, watching you carefully put weight back on your legs.

"Woah!" he chuckled when you wobbled a bit, reaching out to catch you, but you recovered.

"Thank you," you whispered, and he smiled at you.

"Just wish I'd found you sooner.”

"Um, you said I can take a shower?"

"Yeah, down that hall, first door on the right. I'll bring you some clothes,” he explained, and you smiled weakly before navigating your way to the bathroom.

You looked so good in his clothes that his heart skipped a beat when he saw you step out into the living room. The t-shirt that was almost too tight on him was baggy on you, reminding him of how delicate you were in so many ways, how much bigger he was than you.

It reminded him that if he really wanted to, he could force himself on you and you'd be helpless to stop him. But that wasn't what he wanted. It was going to be so much better this way.

"Wanna go to bed now? I'll take the couch," he offered.

"N-no," you stammered, and he gave you a quizzical look. "I don't… I don't want you that far away."

"Okay, I could sleep on the floor," he bargained instead, "in my room, with you."

"No," you sighed again, "then I won't be able to see you."

"I'll be right there," he reminded you.

"It's a king, right? You can share with me."

"Are you sure?" he pressed. "I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable."

"No, please, this is the only way I'll be comfortable."

"Okay," he smiled, guiding you to the bedroom. He let you watch him take off his shirt and smirked a little when he saw you ogling.

"I usually just sleep in boxers," he admitted nervously. "I'll put on some pajama pants at least."

"It's fine, really," you smiled. "I don't wanna be any more of a burden than I already am."

"You're not a burden."

"And I'm not gonna wear pants to bed anyways," you shrugged.

"O-oh."

But he hadn't given you a new pair of panties to wear because he didn't have any to give you. Which meant that if you took off the sweats he'd given you, that'd leave you in his shirt and nothing else.

He tried not to let that thought go straight to his cock as he unbuttoned and pushed down his pants, seeing you conflicted on where to look, before getting in bed. You did the same, taking the sweats off once you were under the covers and tossing them out from under the blanket.

"Goodnight," he smiled as he turned off the lamp, hearing you whisper it back before starting to shift around and get comfortable.

He didn't have to wait nearly as long as he had expected to hear you meekly whisper, "Jensen?"

"Yeah, is everything alright?" he asked, voice full of concern.

"I… I don't want to ask you for anything else…" you sighed.

"No, hey, it's okay," he assured, "ask for anything."

"Would you, um, would you hold me?"

He cleared his throat a little. "If you need me to."

"Please, it's the only way I'll be able to sleep."

He sighed a little but relented, coming over to your side of the bed and spooning you, gingerly laying one arm over you and trying to avoid touching you anywhere too personal.

"Thank you," you sighed sleepily.

"Whatever you need,” he assured.

"Jake, why are you doing all this for me?" you asked quietly, turning back a little to look at him.

"You're my teammate, nobody gets left behind,” he explained. “Besides, this is all my fault anyways. You were waiting for me when they got you."

"No, Jake, don't say that. It's not your fault."

"Alright, but it's not yours either. You didn't deserve that."

“You’re right, but I don’t deserve this either,” you mumbled.

“Yes, you do.”

You shifted slightly against him, humming contentedly, and he groaned.

"I think maybe we should stop," he hissed, pulling away— but you stopped him by grabbing his arm.

"No, wait," you whimpered. "Why? What’s wrong?"

"I, uh, I guess I'm just experiencing some of the consequences of laying in bed with a beautiful woman…"

"Huh?"

"The, um, the biological consequences."

"I— oh,” you whispered.

"Yeahhh...” he trailed off awkwardly.

"No, hey, it's okay. I don't mind, I mean, you can't help it,” you shrugged.

"Sorry, I'm not normally this easily amused but it's been a while, so…"

"I understand," you assured, "really, it's okay… just don't go."

He just barely heard your gasp as he pressed himself against you, his shaft cradled perfectly between each soft globe of your ass. "Is this okay?" he asked quietly.

"Y-yeah," you answered, making him suppress a laugh since it was obvious you were noticing his size. He would bet a grand at least that you were getting wet right now, if he had anyone to bet against.

Your back arched a little, pushing your ass into him with more force, and you actually started to rock your hips ever so slightly.

"Stop moving," he hissed through his teeth.

"I'm not…" you denied weakly.

"Yes you are, you're… rubbing yourself on me."

"I'm sorry, it just feels good,” you admitted sleepily, surprising him with your forwardness. “You like it too, right?"

"Yes, but I feel like I'm taking advantage of you,” he admitted worriedly.

"You're not,” you promised, “you did so much for me— you saved me— and I want to help you, too. You said it's been a while since you were with anybody, I could help you out… you know, you could rub up against me until you…"

He groaned a little but leaned in closer until his lips were right against your ear. "Are you sure? Don't do me any favors, you don't owe me anything."

"I want you to," you assured, making him smile and nod a bit, taking a moment to enjoy a deep breath as he prepared himself.

Carefully, he began to rock his hips forward, rubbing his cock on you through his boxers. Even with a layer of cotton in the way he could feel your warmth, he could imagine how smooth your skin was. If you hadn't been able to make out the shape of him before, you certainly could now— the ridge of his head was probably digging into you, and on particularly long thrusts he could feel your ass against his balls (which, inversely, meant you could feel his balls against your ass).

He held your hips as he picked up his pace a bit, grinding into you and breathing heavily in your ear. You gasped and tried to hide a moan by biting your lip but he heard it. It was even more obvious when he whispered your name to you, heavy with desire, and rubbed your spine with his finger. Your back arched even further, inviting him to push harder against you until he felt the slightest wet patch forming on his boxers— not from him, from you. It made his cock throb and his breath catch in his throat.

Overcome with need, he pushed his boxers down quickly before getting back to it, both of you moaning at the feeling of his skin on yours. He was so close to your pussy he could hardly stand it, and he knew you must be dripping right now, desperate to be filled. He could probably slip right in and you wouldn't even stop him, but that wasn't what he needed from you right now. You needed to ask him for it. He knew you wanted it, but he needed you to know you wanted it.

A drop of precum formed at his slit, smearing onto your skin and easing his way further.

"I want you to feel good, too," he whispered. "I don't just want to use you."

He pushed his cock down and slipped it between your thighs instead, sliding right against your wet, silky folds. You whined beautifully as he thrusted forward, your thighs clenching (and therefore gripping him even tighter) when his cock slid right over your clit.

Your wetness was plentiful enough to drench him just from this, so he already knew the answer but he still asked, "does it feel good?"

"Yes," you sighed. "Yes, it's good…"

He knew he could make you come like this, and he knew exactly how to, but that wouldn't get him what he wanted. Instead he only gave you enough to keep you on the edge, moving too slow to really let you finish. You even tried to move faster but his grip on your hips was too tight, keeping you still so he could savor his own pace and keep you desperate.

"Fuck me," you moaned.

"I don't have a condom," he whispered nervously.

"I don't care, just please…"

That was all the encouragement he needed, pulling back enough to guide his head to your entrance before sliding right in. Your wet, hot walls stretched open to accept him, struggling against his girth but eventually giving way.

Your hand shot back to grab onto his thigh, trying to keep him from going too deep, but he had no intentions of holding back now that he was inside you; he delicately grabbed your wrist and guided your hand back to your chest where he wrapped his arms around you and held you tightly.

"Baby," he moaned into your ear as his hips met yours. "This is my pussy now."

You gasped and shivered in his arms, eyes falling shut as he pulled back and pushed in again, incredibly slow but as deep as he could push himself.

Your moans were perfect, even better than the ones he'd heard when he hacked into your webcam because it wasn't just your fingers or toy anymore, it was him— exactly what you'd always needed, whether you knew it or not. He'd dreamed of this for so long and now that he had you he couldn't imagine ever letting you go. Every inch of your channel was like heaven, every moan was somehow more beautiful than the last.

"That's it, baby, take all of me," he purred when he pressed deep into your cunt, holding your hips so the tip of his cock hit the deepest parts of you. You made the cutest little choking noise and he kissed your neck while trying his best to make you do it again, moving faster and slapping his hips against yours more firmly.

"Jake," you managed to whimper, and he groaned through his teeth.

"Yeah, I'm right here," he promised. "That's me inside you, sweetheart, that's my cock filling you up."

He leaned back slightly and pulled your ass apart so he could see his cock stretching you out, disappearing into your body. It made his head fall back for a moment before he pulled you close again and started thrusting faster. He reached around and brought two fingers to your clit, rubbing it fiercely as he kept thrusting.

"Oh fuck," you moaned, "Jake, right there… I'm gonna come…"

He laughed a little, kissing your ear as a show of approval. "Baby, you're so sensitive," he praised, giving your clit a little spank. You cried out and shuddered, bouncing yourself back on his cock, meeting his thrusts. Amused by your neediness, he stopped moving and watched you go.

"There you go, sweetheart, fuck yourself with my cock. Make yourself come."

You whined and kept going, your ass slapping against his hips loudly. He kept rubbing your clit as you worked his cock, your walls starting to clench down on him rhythmically and your body beginning to shake.

The absolute second he heard you cry out with pleasure as you reached the peak, he grabbed you and rolled both of you over until you were on your stomach and he was brutally fucking you into the mattress. He could still feel you pulsing around his length, gripping him tight and pulling him deeper.

"That's it, keep fuckin' coming for me," he groaned. "Gimme one more and then I'm gonna fill you up."

"Jake!" you yelped, grabbing onto the pillow and even biting it as he slammed into you.

"You're so good, baby, your pussy feels so good," he growled, pinning you down by your shoulders as he sped up even more. He laughed when he felt your walls weakly fluttering, his balls hitting your swollen clit with each thrust. "Gonna come again already, baby? Just from my cock?"

"Yes," you sobbed hoarsely, "yes, Jake, I'm gonna come again— oh my god, please don't stop…"

"Oh, I won't stop," he assured. "You take it so fuckin' good, sweetheart, like you were made for it. Like you were made for me."

You moaned loudly and he took the opportunity to spank you— not incredibly hard but enough to make you whine a bit… and get even wetter.

"Oh fuck, you like that huh?" he purred with a grin. "You like it rough."

"Yes, fuck, I love it," you agreed with a moan. "I'm— I'm coming, Jake, don't stop."

"Yeah, I know," he chuckled, "I can feel it. Feels so good when you come on my cock, baby…"

You went suddenly from arching your back and gripping the pillow to falling limp and relaxing, your body his toy now as he fucked you to the point of overstimulation. Your moans were exhausted and muffled now, your walls clinging to him desperately as he continued stroking every sensitive place he could reach (which was all of them).

He could so easily pull out and paint your back, or jerk himself off over your ass, but if he was going to claim your body then he was going to do it right.

He didn't warn you in advance, just in case you suddenly decided to tell him to pull out, but he did make sure you knew what he was doing. "Fuck, I'm coming!" he moaned as his cock flexed and his seed filled you, still thrusting in time with each pump of his release. It was nearly overwhelming, physically and psychologically. He was finally filling you like he'd fantasized about basically every time he got off since he met you, finally making you his the way you should've been from the beginning.

He sighed and laid down on top of you, smiling as he kissed all over your face, neck, shoulders, and back.

You giggled sleepily, but whined when he tried to pull out, bringing your legs up to hold him inside. "Don't go yet," you pleaded.

"Okay, baby, I'll stay right here until you fall asleep," he promised. "Goodnight, beautiful…"

Not only could he not think of a night he'd slept better in his life, but he was pretty sure this was the best any man had slept in the history of sleep. But even then, he wasn't at all disappointed when you woke him up.

"Good morning," you whispered in his ear with a giggle, making him blink his eyes open and look down at where you were resting your face on his chest.

"Good morning," he returned with a grin, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close.

"Last night was… pretty amazing," you smiled coyly, and he stroked your cheek as he felt it warm even more.

"Yeah, you have no idea," he chuckled, lifting your head so he could give you a kiss. It was supposed to be quick and wholesome but you deepened it instantly, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Just as you started to climb up to straddle him, he heard your stomach loudly growl and he pulled back to laugh.

"Sorry, sweetheart, but it sounds like you've got some other needs to take care of first," he smirked.

"Ugh, you're right," you sighed, "I'm going raid your kitchen."

"No, let me do that, I'll make you something— whatever you want," he offered, starting to sit up, but you pushed him back down.

"Jake, you've done enough for me already. I don't even know what I want, that's why I wanna go look at what you have."

"If you insist," he relented, watching you hop out of bed and playfully smacking your ass when it was within reach. You giggled and scampered away, leaving him to lay back and put his hands up behind his head, taking a deep breath of satisfaction. His plan had not only worked but gone beyond his expectations— clearly you had wanted this, on some level, from the beginning, you were too eager for him to believe otherwise. But that didn't matter now, because you were finally his and it was exactly as he'd dreamed it would feel: right, undeniably and overwhelmingly right.

He decided to take a break from basking in his own glory for a while to get up and find some food for himself as well. After all, he planned on fucking you at least one more time today so he'd need lots of energy to keep him going.

He slipped back on his boxers and walked to the kitchen, finding you there standing oddly still. "What are you doing?" he asked with a bemused scoff.

"Jake…" you mumbled, staring into the cabinet blankly.

"What's wrong?" he asked, stepping closer but stopping in his tracks when he saw what you were looking at: a six-pack box of granola bars. He sighed a little as he internally chided himself for such a rookie mistake. "Baby, seriously, what's wrong?"

"I… these… this is the same kind they gave me… it was the only thing I ate for almost four days."

"Oh my god," he whispered, stepping up behind you and wrapping his arms around you to try to soothe you. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring back any bad memories. You only ate granola bars for four days? Honey, you must be starving, please just let me cook you something—"

"No, not only granola bars: only a granola bar. Just one…"

You reached up to grab the box but he held you tighter, trying to stop you. Instead what happened was you accidentally knocked the box over, exactly five bars sliding out and landing on the floor with a crinkly thud.

You gasped with realization and tried to squirm away but his comforting hug turned into restraint instantly. "Jake, let me go…"

"I'm sorry, baby, but I don't think I can do that."

"Jake, please," you begged with a sob. "Why did you— how could you?"

"I know you had feelings for me, you just needed a little encouragement."

"Feelings for you? I hate you!"

"Huh, that's odd, because I distinctly remember you begging me to fuck you last night,” he taunted. “I remember you coming for me, twice. Is that what you normally do when you hate somebody?"

"You're a monster," you sneered.

"And you're stuck with me, whether you like it or not," he chuckled, spinning you around to bend you over the counter, pressing his hips against yours as you whined and failed to squirm away. "So you might as well let yourself like it."

#dark!jake jensen x reader #jake jensen dark fic #soft!dark jake jensen #jake jensen x reader

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twillightteaparty · 3 years

Note

Hello! Can i have a request a Yandere! Twisted Wonderland hcs?

Yan! Malleus, Yan! Azul, Yan! Jade and Yan! Vil with s/o who plays violin or piano?

Yandere Twisted Characters Fixated On a Violin/Piano playing Student!

this is my friendly reminder that the yandere trope should stay in the world of fiction. any kind of yandere relationship is inherently toxic please don't try to replicate it in the real world. (This night not end up being all that yandere in honesty because I'm buffering really hard)

Malleus

Feels Enchanted by their music, doesn't matter what song they're playing. doesn't matter where they're playing it. he feels drawn to it. as if it's a sacred song that only he can hear guiding him through the night. he'll always be watching from afar if he can, listening with a satisfied smile on his face. otherwise, he'll get creative trying to listen to your music. everything from listening through the door, using an invisibility spell, to making up a reason to be entering the room and to 'pay him no mind'

will compliment them on their musical skill given every opportunity he can. he wants to see them happy, or flustered, when they receive praise for their hard work. especially if said praise is coming from him. will absolutely try to get them to play classical music from his homeland, just to become obsessed all over again.

you can count 5 new fancy and shiny musical instruments of choice in his stash of dragon treasure. where he hopes one day he can show them off and have them played by the one he bought them for.

24/7 daydreams about playing classical music together, or dancing to classical music together. either of which takes place at the palace most likely. though he does hope that maybe one day that won't be just a daydream. will his elegant words be enough to make it a reality?

Azul

Will pay you 3 times as much as other people to play at the lounge, please he's begging. like he will get on his hands and knees and B E G if that's what it takes. because he does have a business to run and cant just listen to you whenever. but if it's at work and your there playing music anyway- it's a win-win situation.

does want to dance with them after hours in the lounge to classical music where he can tell them how much he adores your playing, shower them in compliments. but he always shies away from it, probably because jade might be not too far away, jade can and will tease the hell out of him and he'd much rather avoid that altogether if you catch my drift.

will try to get them to sign a contract that would be more beneficial to him than really anyone else and like would try to sell them on it being a good idea for X,Y, and Z. if that's not enough to convince them he can do a better and longer sales pitch that is tailored to them to heavily consider it.

all I have to say here is gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss but it's genuinely toxic and bad and not just a joke.

Jade

"aren't I so blessed to be infatuated with someone so Talented~?" jade doesn't play anything suddlely. probably the best at twisting your arm to get what he wants. both through words and by force.

will ask you whenever he wants them to play a song. might make a specific request but more than likely just wants to be close by and listen to the music they play.

he'll also try to get you to play at the lounge so he can one keep an eye on you while he works, second of all, so he can listen to your music all at the same time.

I think jade's creepiness factor in all this is how effective he is. I imagine it being like 'your right jade, great idea' then realizing there is some catch because it's jade and just the dread.

Vil

was ecstatic to find out about their musical talent. his liddol birdie was not only the cutest but also new the sweetest melodies. he would come up with all sorts of reasons to try and get them to play music, especially when he is around.

double wants to keep his little birdie in a cage now, where he can keep them safe and sound knowing that they can't get hurt while in his care.

"Why don't you play a song? just for the two of us hm?" promises not to tease them, but that's only so he can shower them in endless praises about how talented you are. he'll also shower them in as much affection he can get away with.

you do know there are consequences to defining the queen's orders?

---

this isn't my best work and I'm not gonna pretend like it is. despite that, I hope that it was at least enjoyable to read. there were several times I was just staring at the screen not sure what to write so my apologies.

signed, Admin Tea

#twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland malleus #twisted wonderland azul #twisted wonderland Jade #twisted wonderland vil #twst vil #twst malleus #twst azul #twst jade #yandere twst #twst yandere #yandere headcanons #twst headcanons #headcanons

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