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#ugh. i have to get through tomorrow and the next day
thegreatbeyondmp3 · 4 months
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bro it sucks so much to have to go to work when you're sick
#i dont wanna go but literally if i miss another day they could fire me 😬#i don't have covid at least according to the home tests but like. i still have a cold or something#and i can't call out because our time is so restricted#and its not even the worst attendance policy i know of but it still sucks to have to work around#esp coming from my last job where i could take off literally as much time as i needed to basically whenever i needed/wanted to#added on top of the fact that i just don't want to fuckin be there anyway#and that im scared im gonna pick up covid bc my immune system is currently weakened#ugh. i have to get through tomorrow and the next day#and then im off again#and then im on one more day before im back off again#so i will have a rest day again pretty soon at least#after being off the last three days#(the first was my legit day off but it was very busy and few days before that were the roughest of a tough couple of weeks -#the second i took off bc i had to babysit and. being completely honest. i watched all of fellow travelers thr night before. and esp after#how bad a time id been personally having lately. all the suffering and the loneliness and the romance just hit me so hard#tbh i just felt like i deserved a break and i could do some work at home to balance things out -#third day i woke up feeling sick and coughing pretty hard and just feeling generally miserable. which continued for most of the day.#but with less coughing until now bc im laying down)#i just wish i could take an extra day or two to actually kick this 😭#sorry this is so long i can get locquacious when im tired
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nereidprinc3ss · 3 months
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rubber duck
in which reader is sick and spencer takes care of his girl!!
fluff (18+ for nudity) warnings/tags: reader referred to as girl, non-sexual undressing + nudity/intimacy, reader takes bath, spencer doesn't but he is in fact present a/n: heeeeyyy guys.... sorry for not posting for a month... accept this as a token of my gratitude and know that smut is in the works. keep sending requests, might not answer them but you never knoww!!
Spencer gets home around ten PM. Granted, it’s not a completely unreasonable time for someone to be asleep, but for you? A person who’d rather not go to bed at all than wake up before eight in the morning? You being passed out on the couch at this time is definitely abnormal.  
He drops his bag on the coffee table as he approaches, kneeling next to where you’re curled up in the dark room. Part of him doesn’t want to wake you if you’re tired, but he’s mildly concerned. Normally after him being away all week you’ll stay up until he gets home regardless of how late (or early) it is. Ambient light coming in through the window allows him to see the sickly sheen to your skin, and he feels your forehead with the back of his hand. 
“Spence?” you murmur, trying to blink the sleep out of your eyes. His response is equally quiet, wavering slightly. 
“Hey. Are you feeling okay, angel?” 
Even though you decidedly are not, your spirit lifts considerably at the sight of him in front of you. A wave of caramel hair falls over his furrowed brow as he scans your face, looking for signs that something is wrong. You brush it away, hand coming to rest on his cheek. 
“I’m fine. I missed you a lot.” 
Your voice is a paper-thin whisper, giving you away even as you try to downplay your condition. 
“I missed you too, but I’m a little worried. You’re pretty warm.” His eyes dart away from your face and down your body, seeming to notice your attire for the first time. “Did you go to work?” 
“I tried to. But I had to come home at early. I guess I didn’t make it all the way to bed.” 
This seems to worry him even more, if the way his eyes narrow and the line of his mouth tightens is anything to go by.  
“How long have you been asleep?” 
“Well... what time is it?” you ask sheepishly, still disoriented. 
“10:20.” 
“Oh god,” you moan, burying your face into a pillow (which does not make breathing any easier through all the congestion), “I’ve been sleeping for eight hours!” Panic wells in your chest at the ridiculous notion that you somehow lost an entire day to sleep.  "I didn't mean to-"
“Shh, relax, it's fine. Your immune system works a lot more efficiently when you’re asleep. It’s the best thing you can do when you’re sick. Studies show that melatonin may actually be an effective antiviral, and people who sleep seven hours a night are 300% less likely to develop an illness than people who sleep only five hours a night.” 
Despite yourself, you smile into the pillow at his unprompted information dump.
“So... am I... 500% more likely to be better tomorrow?” 
He laughs, running a hand through your hair. 
“I don’t even know where you got that number.” 
“I failed statistics in high school,” you mutter, pushing yourself up onto an elbow. 
“Honey, that’s Algebra.” 
You bury your face in your hand and laugh at your own stupidity- before it devolves into a coughing fit.  
“Ugh, I’m sorry. I know you hate germs,” you say once you’ve managed to get the coughing under control. You look at his face, but there are no signs of disgust or fear. 
“I could never hate your germs. But I am worried about the cough... do you think a bath would help?” 
You mull it over. Part of you wants to rot on the couch forever, but the more rational part knows you should definitely get up and try to take care of yourself. With a helping hand from Spencer you rise, stumbling into his waiting arms like a foal on shaky legs. Immediately you feel fatigued, but he patiently guides you to the bedroom and sits you on the mattress before disappearing into the adjoining bathroom. 
For a few minutes the only sound aside from you catching your breath is the tub filling from the other room. Soon he returns, to find you curled up on the bed and barely conscious once more. 
“Oh, sweetheart,” he sighs, gathering you up in his arms and helping you to your feet once more. “You really don’t feel good, huh?” 
You shake your head, allowing yourself to be carefully herded into the bathroom. Spencer moves to sit on the edge of the steaming tub, pulling you forward gently by your belt loops. Deftly he begins to undo your jeans as you fumble with the buttons on your shirt. 
“I feel like I’m dying,” you groan. He glances up at you.
“I wish you would have told me you were sick. I would have come home earlier.”  
“I thought about it,” you admit sheepishly, “but I figured better I be sick and alone than more people potentially end up dead because I’m too needy.” 
Your boyfriend sighs, resting his hands on your hips as he looks up at you with a mix of earnestness and admonishment.  
“At least tell me next time. I don’t like the idea of you here all alone without anyone knowing you’re ill.” His fingers press gently into your flesh to emphasize his point. “Okay?” 
“Okay,” you agree softly, without hesitation. Spencer’s expression softens too, and he leans forward to press a kiss to your sternum. 
“In,” he directs after you wiggle out of your jeans, getting out of the way and helping you into the water. He watches as you carefully submerge yourself, a little tense as if he’s ready to jump into action at any second. “Is it too warm? I tried not to make it too hot because your body temperature is al-” 
“It’s perfect,” you reassure, sinking further in. Steam billows up around you and you sniff. “Lavender?” 
Spencer nods, settling on the floor next to you. 
“And mint. I’m surprised you can actually smell it.” 
Normally you’d tease him for his fussing, but the minty steam really does seem to be helping you breathe a bit easier. After only a few minutes, you feel noticeably better. 
“Will you read to me?” you ask dropping your head to your shoulder to look at him. 
He’s leaning against the wall and monitoring you with a contented look on his face. At the suggestion his eyebrows raise. 
“Of course. What do you want to hear?” 
“Fairytales. But only the super gory ones. The more disturbing the better.” 
“What? No Jane Austen?” 
“Ugh, no. I need to hear about terrible things happening to beautiful princesses so I can feel seen.” 
A small smirk graces his lips as he regards you, eyes sparkling with humor and thinly veiled affection. 
“You are utterly ridiculous.” 
“You have to be nice to me when I’m sick,” you whine, slinking lower into the bubbles. Spencer hums in sympathy, running his hand through the water to check the temperature before trailing his knuckles over your arm. 
“My poor sick girl,” he teases. You huff indignantly, attempting to hide the way his words make you melt into the bathwater. 
“Just get the book, Spencer.” 
“Yes ma’am.” He kisses your forehead (covertly gauging your fever, you’re sure) before pushing off the ground. You watch him leave, heart overflowing with adoration even though you still feel sick. Maybe it’s the bath that’s helping, or maybe it’s just his presence.  
A minute later he returns to his post beside you bearing Grimm’s Fairytales and a tall glass of water, which he tells you to drink all of before he starts reading. Regardless of how unwell you feel, you find the energy to make sarcastic comments about the characters’ intelligence and the implausibility of the plot (it’s a fairytale, Spencer reminds you) but soon the soothing cadence of his voice enthralls you. The illustrations and the story capture your imagination as you rest your head and arms on the side of the tub. 
More time has gone by than you realize when you begin to shiver in the now lukewarm water. Spencer notices, finally setting the book down. 
“Ready to get out?” 
You nod and he helps you step out of the tub, pulling you close and wrapping you with a fluffy towel. Absolutely no heed is given to the state of his own clothing as your wet skin soaks his shirt, or his own health as he breathes in your air. 
“I’m gonna get you sick, Spence,” you say anxiously, making a feeble attempt to pull away. Spencer doesn’t even begin to allow it, holding you even tighter. The honesty of his words is reflected in his eyes as he looks down at you adoringly. 
“I can live with the idea of spending a few days at home together.” 
You lean into him further, too tired to hold much of your own weight up. 
“I can’t believe you have to intentionally get sick to get time off work.” 
“You’re definitely worth it.” He kisses the top of your head and rubs your back for a moment.  
“And to think,” you muse, the words muffled by his shirt, "when we first met, you wouldn’t even shake my hand.” 
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bluejeanstrash · 11 days
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tags: boyfriend! seungcheol x reader, just a little light-hearted fluff of seungcheol being a dramatic whiny baby when he’s sick, mentions of dry scalp and skin picking lol, seungcheol is very whiny | wc: 742
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
a classic cough and cold combo paired with a side of fever-related aches and pains — that was the diagnosis, not the life-threatening illness seungcheol was sure he’d contracted. he’d tried convincing you it was fast-spreading. like really fast. like it has taken over his body and has been shutting down his organs one by one for the past 6 hours fast.
‘i’m going to die. it’s not a joke anymore. i seriously feel like i’m going to die’ he tugs at the hem of your t-shirt as you clear up the mountain of tissues on the left bedside table, and then tugs again while you’re clearing up a pile of dishes on the right.
you sigh, ignoring him, and disappear into the kitchen to reappear with a fresh bowl of hot chicken soup ‘seungcheol, we’ve been over this already. you’re not going to die’
‘forget it! just get me my will. i have to make some last-minute changes’ he asks for it dramatically, draping a limp arm over his eyes.
‘you don’t have a will’ you blow on the hot soup in quick bursts before feeding him a spoonful.
‘ugh, never mind. it’s fine’ the will talk is waved off with a quick fan of the hand to make way for what he says next ‘they give everything to the spouse anyway. wait, do they?’
‘i don’t know, and we’re not married’ you remind him, stirring the hot liquid so the shredded chicken, his favourite part, rises to the top.
‘god, you’re right’ he sits up a little straighter and grabs your free hand, suddenly somber ‘do you take choi seungcheol to be your lawf-’
you force-feed him another spoonful to shut him up, a bit of it spilling onto the quilted blanket. the soup must’ve still been too hot because he lets out a little cry, whining, though it’s entirely possible he’s overreacting.
‘you’re not taking this seriously, i’m actually dying’
‘you’re not’
‘what do you know! you’re not a doctor!’ he grumbles, taking a moment to tell you he really likes the soup and really really appreciates you making it for him before continuing to rant.
‘yeah, and what about the actual doctor we called who said you’re not?’
‘he doesn’t know anything either, that hack. the people on the internet’ he picks up his phone from the bed, showing you a screenshot from some site you’re pretty sure is for hypochondriacs to confirm each other’s delusions, and taps on the screen ‘have told me i have less than 24 hours left. 24. 24!’
‘seungcheol, i can’t have this conversation with you anymore. seriously. you need to go to sleep’ you put the empty bowl aside, straightening, and then pulling the blanket up to cover him.
‘no, no, don’t leave. i want lap time’ he pouts, baby-talking his way into his third one of the day. you sit back down on the bed with a sigh as he repositions himself to lay on your lap, wriggling his head around until he’s comfy. your fingers slowly comb through his hair, your nails scratching lightly against his scalp to soothe him. in a slightly gross but domestic act, you pick a few bits of flaky skin out of his unwashed hair, flicking them away. you should wash it for him later, you think. he’d like that.
seungcheol always found the sensation of you picking at his scalp strangely comforting, and surprisingly quite sleep-inducing. minutes pass without a single sound.
it’s quiet. finally. or so you think.
‘if i die, you can’t date anyone for the next 10 years. at least’
‘what?!’ you jerk your thighs up, pushing him off your lap ‘10 years? you’re crazy’
he can’t believe what he’s hearing.
‘i was just being nice. you shouldn’t date anyone ever, but ohmygod, i can’t believe you want to be with someone else’ he presses his fingers to his temples, suddenly coming down with a headache.
‘so let me get this straight’ he continues ‘you’re telling me when i die tomorrow-’
‘you won’t’
‘-when i die tomorrow, you’re going to bring some other man to my funeral?!’ his cheeks now hot with a shade of distressed pink.
you’re not sure where he’s got that from but you’ve had enough. you get up, grabbing the bowl, and look him straight in the eye, pinching his cute little cheeks ‘well, it’s a good thing you’re not dying then’
you walk out, leaving him right there on the bed, hot and most definitely cold.
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pizzapizzadickz · 2 years
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acowardinmordor · 6 months
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You Left Me - You Miss Me - Six
Sup, I finally wrote the next part. Mostly because of someone trying to find it via the fic finder blog, which gave me a big ol spike in anxiety about the lack of update.
Part One .... Part Four - Part Five
---
“Rob, no.”
“Don’t you tell me ‘no,’ Steven Dingus Harrington!”
“You can’t drive to Hawkins and kill the guy.”
“Oh yes I can! I'll take your bat with me!”
“Babe, you still don’t know how to drive, and I have work in the morning so I can’t take you.” 
“I’ll figure it out on the way!”
She wouldn’t. She wasn't going to drive to Hawkins. She would definitely, absolutely, one hundred percent kill Munson if she had the chance and Steve didn’t talk her out of it, but Robin wasn’t going to leave him alone when he’d had a breakdown an hour earlier. She wouldn’t let him sleep alone for the next few days, and she would go to work with him in the morning, and she’d probably skip her Stats class so she could stick by him after work too. 
It took Robin about thirty seconds to realize something had happened. 
That was the gap between her opening the car door, and Steve speaking. All he said was “hey, Robs” and she cut off her ramble about chlorofluorocarbons. The same way he could tell by the sound of her stirring soup, or which color eye shadow she wore, she knew immediately something had happened. 
She touched his arm.
And he had a breakdown in the college parking lot. 
Steve updated the tag on the side of the box and put it back on the shelf. He was,technically, working. Robin was ranting and using a tie-dye shirt as a prop. 
“You don’t need to crash our car trying to go kill a guy I’m not even mad at.”
“Ugh,” she flapped the shirt at him and slouched against the edge of the shelving unit. “Why not? Why are you not mad at him? How? I’m mad at him! He took the kids away from you! They’re annoying little shitheads but you loved them and he jus---”
“Rob,” he interrupted softly. He couldn’t get into that side of it right now. 
“Sorry. Sorry. But you’re not this nice, Stevie. You’re wonderfully bitchy and petty and it’s one of my favorite things about you, and I don’t get this. He sucks! This was super shitty! Why aren’t you mad at him for being an asshole?”
“It’s not his fault.”
“He said it was his fault!”
Eddie blamed himself, and maybe it was his fault, but it didn’t matter. Not in comparison.
“Are you going to inventory anything tonight, or is this just going to be me?”
“No! And why are you working?”
Because if he stopped, if he let himself turn his full attention towards it, he was going to fall apart again, and stupid as it was, checking inventory used up just enough of his focus that he couldn’t drown. Steve flicked through the stack of size smalls, and wrote it down on the list. “Uh, because we’re at work?”
“We both work tomorrow tonight and there is no way that Mary or Nick have ever looked at the stock sheets in their life, they aren’t going to look tomorrow either. No one will know.”
“I’ll know.” He glanced up to make eye contact for a second, and she caved with a groan. 
“If you were anyone but my soulmate, buddy…” She folded the shirt terribly, shoved it into the gap between the cardboard and the other shirts, and finally closed the box. 
Letting the silence settle gave Steve a minute to breathe, and reset himself without the rising tension. She knew that, and waited until, unspoken, she knew he was ready to keep going. 
“Steve.”
“I am mad, Robs. I am. You know that it’s.. At the kids, and at Hopper, and at myself for agreeing to this stupid idea, but I’m not mad at him.” 
“Why does he get special treatment?”
Hearing how that sounded, he tried again, “No, uh. I’m mad at him, but, like, the same way you get mad when the grandma in the crosswalk is going really slow and then drops something and goes back, and you end up stuck waiting again even though you should have made it through the light before. Yeah, it sucks, but it’s not like grandma was doing it specifically to fuck with you. She’s just, you know, shopping or whatever. 
“It wasn’t like there was a friendship there that he betrayed. He did something for his own life and it was sorta sucky, and it sucks for me, but he feels really shitty about it, so I don’t think he meant for them to, you know, vanish.”
Robin thumbed down the stack of Levis, whispering the count as she went. Three more sizes got counted before she responded. 
“You carried him out of there. You saved his life.”
Steve hummed absently. “He wasn’t bleeding that bad. His trash lid kept most of them off. I panicked when I saw blood and picked him up.”
“And that doesn’t make you friends?”
“It’s not like I only saved him because it was him. Not like I stopped and thought about whether I should get the bleeding guy to the hospital. Lifeguard, remember?” 
The other half of the thought, he bit back. He’d had nightmares about Billy after Starcourt. Dreams where he could have saved him, and didn’t. Where he could have saved Max from having to see that, having to recover from that. He saw Eddie bleeding, he saw one of his kids screaming, and there wasn’t a thought in his head. Just the need not to let it happen again. Not again. Not Dustin too. 
He kept his eyes on the inventory form so she didn’t see that part. 
“Still think it should have mattered more. Life saving creates friendships.”
“He was unconscious. I know you don’t know much about how guys act with each other, but generally both dudes are awake when they become friends.”
She snorted at his weak joke, throwing her pencil at him. It wasn’t anywhere near her. 
“New record, champ,  that one wasn’t even close enough for me to pretend to dodge it.”
“Ugh, I hate you.”
“Love you too, Robs.”
He got through a full set of kids dress shirts in peace, counted and listed. Then he pulled down the crate of kid’s dresses, next on the list to check. 
The whole can of worms would tear open when, if, when Eddie showed up with something from the kids. There was no version of that day that wouldn’t end with him falling apart. If he skimmed them, if he burned them, if he read them, if he wrote back, if he refused to take them at all, it didn’t matter. He was going to fall to pieces. 
If they wrote and it was real, if it was petty, if it was anger, if it was grief, if it was gloating he was gone, if it was begging him to come back, if it was proof that it was always fake, always a temporary placeholder until they found someone they actually like. The imminent breakdown was going to be bad no matter what. 
Like those safety videos in school about seat belts. 
Like knowing the car crash was coming, knowing it couldn’t be stopped, and knowing that nothing he did was going to make it any easier to bear. Slow motion, watching a car come -- a beat up old van come towards him. No time to put on a seat belt, no way to brace for it, just accept that it was going to happen and hope you survived.  
Robin cleared her throat to get his attention, and Steve blinked back to himself. 
“Did, uh, did you say something?”
Robin watched him for a minute. He let her this time. It was easier to let her see what he was feeling than try to turn it into words, and he needed her to let it go for now.. 
“I’m going to skip my bio lecture on Friday afternoon.”
“Birdie, you don’t--” 
“You are going to call in sick at the skate rink. We are going to make snickerdoodles and brownies and the cracker bark thing, and order pizza, and we’re going to make ourselves sick eating too much, and we’re going to watch some random movie on mute and make up our own story and dialogue. Got it?”
“Got it,” he smiled.
And it wasn’t going to make it all better. Eating two pounds of butter in a day wasn’t going to make it easier when Eddie showed up, but it was like hitting pause on that video. Car crash was still coming, but he could look away for a while. 
***
Steve clung to the pass shelf from the kitchen as the expected car crash hit him on Monday. John, always eager for the chance to throw someone out of the diner, looked over Steve’s shoulder. It was a nice moment. A nice little thought before he had to face what he’d agreed to. If he asked, John would throw Eddie out. Literally. Nice image, but not the one he got to see.
Instead, he declined the offer, and grabbed the plates. 
“Gimme a minute,” he mumbled to Eddie, heading to the sweet elderly couple celebrating the birth of their second granddaughter with a leisurely breakfast. If he spent an extra minute talking to them, complimenting the polaroid of what seemed to be some kind of mashed potato swaddled in white and pink, it was to get a good tip, not because he was stalling. 
Eddie hadn’t moved when he got back. He was a step back from the counter, stiff, holding a paper grocery bag under one arm, eyes trained on the ugly teal of the stool’s seat.
“Well?” Steve asked bitchily, “Did you bring milk and eggs and bread, honey?”
He put it on the counter, clutching the folded top hard, like he was making sure it stayed shut. 
Like it was full of spiders or something. Mutual sentiment.
Steve grabbed it, tossing it onto the shelf where they kept personal belongings and the leftovers they’d called dibs on. He hadn’t expected Eddie Munson to be up to Franklin at eight am on a Monday. Eddie wasn’t a morning person. Steve thought he’d have a few more hours to brace. Now he had to deal with customers while that bag burned a hole in the back of his head. 
Luckily, Rebecca was serious when she said he could get mean with guests if he wanted to. Today wasn’t a want. It was going to be a necessity. 
Eddie was still standing there. 
“You can tell them I got it, or whatever,” he tried to dismiss him.
Something that looked like the tortured remains of a smile flickered on Eddie’s face. He gave up after a second and nodded too many times. “Thanks. Thank you. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, right?”
It took a minute for Steve to catch up to the question. 
“I haven’t said I’m going to answer them. Or open them. Or keep them.”
Eddie was quiet for a minute, still not looking up, and Steve’s Travel-Size-Robin was vibrating with the need to make him so they could guess what the hell he was thinking. 
“Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday mornings?” he repeated. 
“Yeah. Sure, yeah,” Steve gave up. 
Eddie left, and Steve did the entire day’s front of house prep before Susan got in, trying to keep his head away from that damn bag. 
***
Steve didn’t open it. 
He fell asleep in Robin’s bed, grateful he didn’t have other work that evening, and doubly grateful when she made him eat some crackers and drink some water before they passed out for the night. 
If he was waiting for the impact the day before, seeing Eddie again the next day was so unexpected that the crash whooshed past him without an impact. He didn’t sit down, and he looked a little rough, probably from driving to Franklin in the early morning twice in two days. 
“Do you have…?”
“No? No,” Steve boggled at him, “How could I have anything for you to even -- No. Man, no.” 
Eddie nodded. 
Eddie left. 
***
Steve stared at the bag instead of taking a nap before their shift in the stockroom. Didn’t open it, that was way, way beyond him, but he did manage to look directly at it, and it was only a few saltines, but he did successfully eat. 
Robin, angel, light of his life, soulmate and perfect person got in the car after class, handed him a kinda gross protein bar that she stole from an athlete in her class who she didn’t like, and made him eat it. 
She didn’t make him talk about the bag shaped elephant in their apartment, and she spent the entire shift explaining the way Ann Carson’s translations of Greek plays had totally shifted how people read them, making them more accessible, and how the push to do the same with Shakespeare was incredible. 
When he went to crawl into his own bed that night, she grumbled, brought her favorite pillow, and climbed in after him. 
***
Eddie walked in at quarter to seven, right after three four tops seated.
“No.”
“Okay. Yeah.” Eddie looked small, probably because he was speaking at a normal volume, sounding like a normal human, which ran opposite to how Eddie was in Hawkins. He also looked like crap. 
“Why are you here, dude? You hate mornings. You don’t have to leave that early, I work until one.”
Eddie scrunched his face, but didn’t answer that. 
“No?” he asked instead.
Someone at table six shouted ‘waiter!’ 
“I’ll bring your coffee in a damn minute!” Steve yelled back, half turning with the carafe in his hand.
“Steve?”
“Look, I don’t have anything for you. Nothing. You don’t need to waste your time. I haven’t opened it.”
“There’s more than one -- oh,” Eddie scrubbed over his face. “Okay. Yeah. Okay. Do-- Are you going to? Open it.”
Thinking about opening it made him want to run away to Canada. 
Thinking about never knowing made him want to puke. 
Whatever weird face Steve made was something Eddie could translate. He only raised his head for a moment, just long enough to look. But then he covered his face with both hands, taking a deep breath that shuddered on the exhale. 
“See you Monday,” he said as a goodbye.
“Where’s my coffee?” the same guy yelled. Steve didn’t have the energy to deal with customers and whatever the fuck was going on with Eddie’s early morning emotional mess. 
“Wait a second,” he complained to both of them at once. Steve grabbed one of the big mugs, the ones they used for the expensive hot chocolate, filled it with coffee, and set the pour jar of sugar next to it. He looked from Eddie to the cup, pointedly. “Don’t crash. Bring the cup back with you.”
The asshole yelled for him again, and Steve turned on the terrifyingly polite smile that Robin had helped him hone. Then he deployed it on the asshole at table six. 
---------------
We are headed towards Steddie, on a path that will, hopefully, not feel like I brushed off all this to get there. However. Wow, they're hurting right now. You can't have Eddie's pov yet, it would spoil things, but. just. trust me. ow.
Still don't do tag lists. Once I know how many parts it'll be, this will go to Ao3, promise.
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waldau · 1 month
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hand in mine — lee seokmin | 1,550 words | fluff
slightly inspired by my friend and their partner, i didn't know it was possible for two people to be so in love :') here's just...dk being sappy. sappy dk.
gender neutral reader. warnings: bonus pov?
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dokyeom swears you're like a portable human charger.
when he's away, whether it's because he's still in practice or because he's on tour or even when he's at his parents' place, a single phone call from you is enough to lift his spirits to get him through the rest of the day. weekends spent at each other's places together are almost enough to convince him to just become an apartment hermit.
it's been true for ages — and it's true again, tonight.
or it will be, if you'll stop talking to one kim mingyu.
dokyeom's getting antsier the longer you stand there talking to mingyu, nodding along to something he's telling you. can't it wait till tomorrow? doesn't mingyu see he's in dire need of recharging?
now he knows mingyu's not telepathic, but somehow the younger man realizes dokyeom's staring at the two of you, so he finishes whatever he's saying with a nod towards where dokyeom's sitting. you follow his gaze and smile when you see dokyeom, who swears his heart melts a little, right there.
but then you stop to greet joshua, chatting with him for a minute (a whole minute, in this economy?) before you're standing right next to dokyeom.
he stretches his arms out to you. you bend down, letting him wrap himself around you the best he can. it's good, but it's not enough. he lets go only to tug at your hand. "sit down."
you look around. "there's no place, kyeomie. i don't mind standing."
he frowns at you. "i mind. you can sit in my lap."
you give him a look. "in front of your friends? i'd rather not."
dokyeom pouts. "they're your friends, too."
"of course i know that, baby. but they don't ever stop teasing us, do they?"
"ugh. they'll make fun of me, not you. please?"
you run a hand through his hair. "i don't want them to make fun of you, either."
he huffs. "fine. c'mere," he mumbles, scooting to give you some more space. you go willingly this time, settling yourself into the minimal space next to him. it's not easy when there's already thirteen of them in a room, but he manages to nudge chan away to give you some more space.
"hi," you whisper, letting him throw his hand around your shoulder to pull you closer. "missed you today."
dokyeom pulls back to look at you. he feels almost shy to have all your attention on him, silly as it sounds. "just today?" he asks, grinning when you roll your eyes. "you got here safely?"
you nod, leaning up to press a kiss to his nose. "perfectly. there was way lesser traffic than i expected."
"good."
you snuggle into dokyeom's side, stretching your legs out next to his. this is always his favourite place to be — because he can have your words be all for his ears only.
but then he frowns when he sees your outfit — a shirt and a pair of shorts. he takes off his jacket and drapes it across your legs despite your protests.
"you should've worn something warmer," he frowns. you're never good with the cold, and you're not going to be comfortable with the way more than half the members need the air conditioning to be switched on at all times.
"i was almost ready to go to bed, kyeomie," you explain, adjusting the jacket on yourself nonetheless. "i wouldn't be here if shua didn't call me. thank you, though. how was your day?"
dokyeom sighs. he doesn't want to talk about his day when he's been living through it for the entirety of...well, the day, but he has to say something for you. "not...the best," he concedes, resting his head on your shoulder.
"do you want to go home soon?" you ask, your hand finding his, tracing random patterns on his skin. the tingles help ground him.
he shrugs. "i don't know."
it's true, as much as he hates it. he doesn't want to leave because it'll end up breaking up the party — it always so happens that the first person to leave is the catalyst for most others to start wrapping things up, unwittingly. he doesn't want to be a party pooper, but at the same time, he's had a long day. it's like he's been aware of every single second he's been awake, and it's exhausting.
"okay," you say simply. "let's stay for a while more. it's not like we're in a rush. and i know how hard you worked today."
dokyeom closes his eyes at that. he knows he's done well, today being one of those days where he's genuinely looking for the end, but hearing it from you makes it much better. "yeah?"
"yeah," you affirm, hand rising to comb gently through his hair again, left open now that he's discarded his beanie. "i love you, kyeom. so much. it's still hard to put it into words sometimes."
he snuggles a bit more into you at that, slightly satisfied when seungkwan chucks a piece of popcorn at him from the bed, telling you both to stop being so cheesy. he feels even better when you throw it back at seungkwan, letting out a triumphant ha! when it hits him on the knee.
he loves you.
there's no bottom to that endless truth. he's somewhat loved you ever since he first saw you, drawn to the way your sense of humour was so close to his, and the somewhat turned into a definitely the more he got to know you.
dokyeom isn't half of anything — he's all of himself, lee seokmin, content with the way he is except for a few gripes here and there, but you complete him in a way he didn't know any person could.
he's not worried about you leaving him — there's no way either of you are letting that happen. it's more about not knowing who he is without you, now that your lives are so intertwined.
"stop," you mumble, your grip on his hair tightening slightly.
"stop what?"
"thinking. about whatever you are. i told you i love you and i'm not going anywhere."
the haze he's in almost clears a bit at that. "how did you— i didn't—"
"you always get so pensive when you're tired, did you know? i should record you some time. it's like there's a philosopher hidden inside you."
pensive? when he's tired?
"i love you normally," he blurts out, scared at the insinuation that he thinks about how much you mean to him only when he's vulnerable like this.
you're not saying anything back, though. you're just smiling at him.
"what," he asks, breaths a bit shallow.
"i know," you press, hand lifting his to show the ring that sits on his fourth finger. "i love you normally, too."
dokyeom lets out a chuckle. he still can't believe it's possible to love someone this much.
"now let me get you home and help you get some sleep, okay?" you ask, punctuating your question with a tug to his chin. "the others will understand."
as if you have to ask him. he'll go wherever you take him, no questions asked.
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joshua can see the change in dokyeom's eyes the moment you walk into the room.
the conversation doesn't stop; mingyu and jun are still arguing about how mingyu should stop taking inspiration from jeonghan when it comes to board games and cheating. jeonghan has a proud smile on his face. wonwoo and minghao have zoned out entirely, too busy with their phones to acknowledge the little fight going on. the others are busy eating or ordering more food or arguing about which movie to watch next.
there's just one person missing from the chaos.
dokyeom's sitting on the floor under the window, entirely in his own world, constantly checking his phone and looking at the door, shutting his eyes for a minute before repeating his actions.
joshua would've poked fun at him if he didn't know how tired dokyeom already was today. a particularly tiring day, especially with a comeback practice they'd just gotten back from, and a going seventeen shoot in which dokyeom had been on the losing team. even though he doesn't like to show it, joshua knows dokyeom is somewhat upset over not winning.
but the moment you walk into the room, it's like a switch has been flipped. dokyeom sits up straighter, the neutral expression on his face morphing into a tired but real smile. he holds his hands out to you and pouts when you stop to greet all the other members first, shaking hands with them or giving them a quick side hug.
joshua pulls you close with ease. "thanks for making it here on such short notice."
"are you seriously thanking me for that?"
"i mean...he really needs to see you. today hasn't been his day."
you look over at your husband for a moment. "i could tell. his texts were pretty dry."
"right? now go get your lover boy. he's been moping all evening long."
you wrinkle your nose at the term, just like he expected you to, but you nod and make your way to dokyeom.
joshua turns away when dokyeom gives you a dopey, lovesick grin. he'll let the teasing go for tonight.
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taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched @minnieminshi @nonononranghaee @hrts4hanniehae
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literaila · 2 months
Text
admissions
gojo satoru x fem!reader
summary: it's midnight and satoru's bored
warnings: abandonment issues, anxiety, and gojo <3
a/n: angst tomorrow?
last part | next part
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*
second year, month five.
you're sitting on your bed, reading through an old textbook that nanami gave you (for some indiscernible reason) when there's a knock on your door. 
pounding, actually. it shakes the walls and makes you jump. 
there's a distant chuckle from the other side of the door. 
no one really comes to check in on you, so this is unusual. even after living at jujutsu high for four months, you're finding it difficult to fit in. 
maybe it's the fact that you were a month late to join your classmates, maybe it's because you find yourself pushing any available person away (because of fear, or insanity, or...), or maybe it's just that you can't relate to anyone for the life of you. 
but, either way, the last person to knock on your door was yaga, who came to wake you up to go out on your second day here. 
and, it's midnight, so unless someone's dying-- 
you sigh, shaking your hair out of your face. your eyes burn from staring at the small text for so long, so you rub them, hoping that you fell asleep and this is a dream. 
it's not, apparently, because there's a second knock, much louder than the first. so you reluctantly get up and go to the door. 
you try to tip-toe across the floors, hoping that the person hellbent on speaking to you can't hear you creeping up to the peephole. 
"let me in," someone says because they have any right to demand anything of you. 
you cross your arms like he can see you, and wait. 
"y/n?" gojo whines, and there's a thud as he slumps against the door. you can almost hear him breathing. "please. it's important." 
you wait another moment, for an explanation (which is unlikely) or for him to leave (which won't happen). you should've pretended to be asleep. then, after you realize he's going to wait, you sigh and unlock the door. 
and when you open it, gojo falls right on top of you. 
"ugh," you say, pushing him off, not caring about the two seconds it takes him to regain his balance. "you're heavy." 
" i work out. i'm made of muscle." 
you roll your eyes. "what do you want?" you ask, crossing your arms. you make sure not to open the door all of the way. lord knows that gojo has a way of slipping through the cracks. 
"no one else is around," he whines, "and i'm bored." 
"okay? go step on some ants or burn down your room or something. i'm going to bed." 
you should be nicer to your classmates--the people whom you literally entrust your life with--but you can't help your hard exterior. at least you know that no one will be able to break through it if you don't let them. 
and plus, gojo kind of annoys you (and is maybe, a little bit, amusing).
gojo looks you up and down with a brow raised. how you're able to see him from behind his ridiculous sunglasses, who knows. 
he's clearly questioning your outfit and the shoes you're still wearing inside your room. it was a mistake to stay in your uniform. 
"you don't look very tired," he says, smiling at you. his face is unwrinkled and youthful. he looks like a boy and acts like a child. 
"you're terrible at reading people." 
"hey, no i'm not. i can tell you want to hang out with me." 
"can you?" 
"mm-hmm," he hums, grinning as he tries to lean forward, into your room. 
"where's suguru?" 
he gives you a skeptical look. "why do you wanna know?" 
you snort. "cause usually you'd be bothering him." 
"oh," he grins, undeterred by your insult, "he went to see his family." 
you frown. "oh." 
"and before you ask, shoko said that she's tired of me," he pouts a bit, but behind his notorious smile. gojo is an illusion of expressions. you've never seen anybody's face move so quickly, or shift so subtly. "now can i come in?" 
you weigh the cost and benefits of allowing satoru gojo to intrude on your saturday night, and how likely you'll be subjected to him in the future. (is he going to damage you if you let him in? are you going to let him break you?).
but he's leaning down so you can see the tips of his lashes, and he's smiling like he already knows your answer. 
so you sigh, hesitantly, and open the door a bit more. "don't touch any of my stuff." 
"wow," gojo says as he walks in, by-stepping you and ignoring the glare you shoot his way. "you're a terrible decorator." 
he's right. you haven't bothered to put anything up on the walls, even after almost half a year. a small part of you has been too worried that you won't be here for long. that you might die, or... 
"sorry it's not up to your standards," you roll your eyes, going back to sit on your bed and leaf through the stupid textbook again. "but, you know, luckily, you have your own room. i can show you where it is, if you forgot. we can go there now." 
"subtle," he says and messes with a couple of books on your shelf. you doubt he's going to pick one up and ruin it, so you ignore him. 
you could complain about him touching your things like you just told him not to, but it's probably not going to get you very far. plus, you don't want to say something he can laugh at. or something to make him leave. 
but after a moment, you can't help yourself. 
"why are you up, anyway?" you ask him, trying to sound more annoyed than you are. "didn't you have to leave early for a mission this morning?"
"are you keeping tabs on me?" 
"you were bragging about a 'solo' mission all through dinner last night. it was impossible not to overhear." 
gojo sighs. "i don't get a lot of sleep. it's too lonely." 
"i've heard some very interesting rumors about you and suguru's cuddling rituals." 
he grins but doesn't say anything, teasing you with just his eyes. 
after a second of it, you ask, "don't you have a family to go home to?" 
he turns to you, tilting his head, long fingers tapping along your appliances. "clans are more like... begrudged allies than families. i haven't seen my parents in..." he whistles, shaking his head. but it doesn't seem to bother him, because he shrugs after, and resumes his snooping. 
that... actually explains a lot. 
at least he's like the rest of you. 
gojo, abandoning your books--which he probably can't read--goes to sit down on your swivel chair, spinning around. "what about your family? don't you miss them?" 
you give him a tired look. "seriously? you think i don't know that you guys talk about me when i'm not around?" 
gojo bites his cheek, having the gull to not even blink, and then a reluctant smile makes its way to his lips. "who told you?" 
"haibara can't keep a secret to save his life. don't gossip around him anymore." 
he shakes his head, grinning at you again. gojo knows no shame. "well you started pretty late into the semester," he says, "that's not very typical." 
you roll your eyes. 
"so. not going home?" 
"i'm not welcome in my parent's house, anymore," you say, trying to act like the words mean nothing. you could be discussing your favorite color. "as i'm sure you know." 
"did they kick you out?" 
"do you really want to talk about this? it'll probably bore you." 
he shrugs. "nothing else to do." 
you sigh, shutting your textbook.
maybe it's because gojo doesn't seem to actually care, or because you've been alone all day--with lots of time to spend spewing over choices that weren't yours. either way, the words make their way to your lips before you can stop them.  
"both of my parents pretty much ignored me as soon as i turned ten and started having nightmares about the monsters i was seeing around our house," you shake your head, swallowing, "and after yaga scouted me this year, they decided i'd probably be better off with 'people like me.' so, no, i'm not going home. i'm sure they've already moved." 
gojo stares at you like he's trying to discern if you're telling the truth or not. 
you probably shouldn't have said anything. but it's not your fault that no one's had the guts to ask before him, or that you've been dying to talk about it. 
you roll your eyes. "satisfied, gojo?" 
"satoru," he says, grinning. "anyone who's got a clear attitude problem gets to call me by my first name." 
"did your 'begrudged allies' forget to teach you manners?"
he hums. "i think i skipped those lessons." 
you snort. 
you could thank him for not pitying you--for not saying a single thing about how you didn't deserve it, or that it isn't fair--but you don't. it doesn't feel necessary. 
"suguru's family is like that," he adds because this is a normal thing to discuss with an acquaintance you've hung out with once. "but he's too righteous to cut them off." 
"yeah, i don't have that issue." 
he laughs, spinning around again. then he stands up and plops down on your bed, unwarranted, taking off his glasses so he can lie on his side. 
and then he sits there, staring at you. 
it only takes thirty seconds for you to break. 
"did someone surgically implant diamonds into your eyes?" you demand, kicking his foot away from yours. his body is warm against yours, and it makes you wonder if he's got a fever. 
he would come and bother you just to get you sick. 
"these are all-natural, sweetheart," he whispers, fluttering his lashes. he doesn't look away for a moment. his eyes are prettier up close, you suppose, when you can see them in their full glory. they look less alien, somehow less intense. 
"what are the glasses for anyway?" 
"try 'em on." 
he hands them to you, grinning like he knows something you don't, and you take them--maybe just so you can smudge the lens. 
they are surprisingly light, and warm. you put them over your eyes, blinking. 
"oh, are you clinically blind?" you ask, feeling slightly bad for bringing it up. he's probably going to pull your hair and lock you in your room now. 
satoru snorts. "no, i just don't need to see, unlike some people." 
"...was that supposed to be a brag?" 
you take off the glasses, wincing at the light. then you hand them back to him, tingling skin where your fingers brush his. 
"it would drain my cursed energy if i didn't wear them," he says, "'cause i see a lot more than you do." 
"okay? so it’s not to keep people from screaming when they see you?”
he pinches your thigh in retaliation, scoffing. “i am beautiful.”
he shakes his head, but leaves the glasses off, setting them on his stomach, and closing his eyes. one hand travels to the top of his head, as he relaxes into your bed. 
you'll probably need to wash the sheets after this. 
"hey," you say after he's been still for a minute. "satoru. you can't fall asleep here. i thought you wanted to be entertained."
"then entertain me." 
you roll your eyes, even though he's not looking. "i'm not your servant. go back to your room if you're just going to bed. i'm not cuddling with you." 
"i promise i'm good at it. ask suguru." 
"he's not here, so i can't." 
satoru sighs, opening his eyes again. "talk about something." 
"like what?" 
"uh... your favorite movie." 
"i don't watch a lot of movies." 
he sits up. "what?" he asks, genuinely shocked. 
you roll your eyes at him again. 
and, okay. despite his attitude, and his freaky eyes, you guess it is... nice, to be called upon. 
and as satoru sits there, talking to you about the most ridiculous of things, you feel settled in. unafraid of saying something wrong or pushing him away. 
it's good, you suppose, easy. 
*
next part | series masterlist
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shadowdaddies · 4 months
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Hi! Can you do an Azriel x fem!Illyrian!tall!reader where they are mates and the bond snapped for her but not for him yet and she doesn’t say anything because of his thing with Elain. They just stay friends. They are spies together and go on a mission and something happens where they have a fight and he leaves her to do the mission alone and she ends up getting kidnapped and tortured. By the time the bat boys find her, her wings had been burned and healed over so they are covered in scars and she was clipped so she can never fly again. And maybe the reader never says Azriel’s name even after centuries of being friends. Just calls him by nicknames but when she’s being tortured that all she’s calling. Ugh my heart. Long request, very angsty with hurt and comfort but a happy ending
I teared up a little bit writing this. What a beautiful request, thank you for sending it in and for being patient through the holidays as I got to it. 💜
In Every Lifetime
Azriel x Reader angst to fluff
Warnings: explicit torture, blood, mentions of death, etc
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Your shriek pierced through the air, drowning out the sound of Hybern’s naga-hound as its claws shredded Azriel’s wings. Tears brimming in your eyes, an unknown force propelled you towards him as you cut the hound down with your sword, looking up in search of hazel eyes, only to find them locked on the beautiful Archeron sister in his arms. 
The snap in your chest felt nothing like the electric warmth you’d heard of from others. Instead, it was as though someone tore each chord of your heartstrings from your chest as you watched Azriel - your mate - leave Hybern’s camp with Elain in his arms. 
Caught up in the stresses and planning of battle, no one paid mind to your solemn mood. No one saw the single tear that tracked down your cheek when you watched Azriel give Truth-Teller to Elain. 
When the war ended, your family assumed that your depression was a result of trauma from the battle, and you let them. Months passed in a daze as you forced your body to ignore the call it felt towards Azriel. Your name on his lips, the feel of his hand on your shoulder - any interaction with Azriel was too much for you to bear.
What your family did not miss was how you became a shell of your former self. Nearly a year had passed since the war ended, and you could not look Azriel in the eyes anymore. Couldn’t forget how they looked at Elain, her hand brushing his at family dinners. Your reclusion expanded to the rest of your family, unable to lift your eyes or meet them in conversation at dinners, the pure fear of what you might unleash if you saw Elain’s hand on your mate. You knew that you had no claim over Azriel. He was not even aware of the mating bond, and you couldn’t tell him so long as he cared for Elain. 
Heart sinking exceptionally low in your chest, you pushed the food around on your plate as thoughts eddied in your mind, only to be interrupted by Rhysand clearing his throat.
You looked up, violet eyes watching you with poorly veiled concern as he addressed you again. “I said that I need you to join Azriel on a trip to the Autumn Court. Eris believes that Beron may be considering an alliance with Koschei. The two of you will travel there tomorrow night while Eris helps you sneak into Beron’s office for any intel.”
Teeth bit down harshly on your lip, fingers clenching around the fork in your hand as you fought the urge to look at Azriel. With a deep sigh, you managed to meet Rhys’s gaze as you gave him a curt nod. 
“Tomorrow night. See you then, shadowsinger,” you nodded to Azriel, shooting up from your seat at the table and excusing yourself without another word.
The next day was spent preparing, mentally and physically, for your trip. You packed your bag with your regular weapons, arming your body for a stealth mission, arming your mind for mental torture. Azriel’s knock sounded on your door right on time, a shaky exhale leaving your lips before you turned the handle.
“Are you ready?” Azriel spoke, voice low and shaky as though he were afraid of your response. You simply nodded, eyes only able to meet the lower half of his face as you attempted a weak smile. With a small sigh, Azriel placed a hand on your arm. You flinched at the touch, missing the silver lining his hazel eyes at your reaction.
Darkness swirled around you, familiar shadows encompassing your forms as Azriel spirited you both away to the Autumn Court. You landed just outside the Forest House, following Azriel as he directed you behind him against the stone wall. 
“We should receive a signal from Eris once it’s safe to enter. Just stay close to me, please,” he whispered, pleading in his tone as you once again refused to meet his gaze. With a silent nod, you trailed quietly behind Azriel in the grass, both of you keeping your wings tucked in tight as the shadows covered you from sight of the guards.
An odd, unfamiliar bird call sounded in the distance and you froze, instantly on alert. Azriel, though, visibly relaxed as a small smile graced his full lips. “That’s the signal,” he said, holding out his hand once more as you forced yourself to take it. The warmth of his touch sent your reeling, your only salvation being the onslaught of cold shadows whirling around you once more, carrying you directly to Beron’s office.
“Look around, see if there’s anything in or on Beron’s desk that might show he’s been in communication with Koschei or his allies. I’m going to stand watch outside, see if Eris is able to show with any new information,” Azriel spoke softly, his body tense as he shifted between you and the door.
You nodded dutifully, wasting no time in moving to the desk as you sifted through letters and ledgers. You froze, one parchment catching your eye. “Az, this mentions meeting on a lake-“ 
The cold steel of a blade at your throat took you by surprise, blood running cold as you took note of the three males surrounding you. The one with his blade to your throat gripped your wing harshly, crumpling the sensitive appendage as you crumpled in his hold with a whimper. 
Azriel turned from where he stood in the doorway, jaw going slack as cobalt siphons glared in preparation to fight your captors. A dark laugh sounded behind you as the fragile bones of your wing snapped, shocking pain searing through you as your eyes shot to Azriel’s.
Your world tipped on its axis as you looked into your mate’s hazel eyes for the first time since the bond snapped for you, helplessly watching as Azriel stumbled back in shock and you vanished into thin air in front of him.
You awoke in a dark cellar, the stench of blood and excrement muddying your thoughts as you came to. Cold metal encircled your wrists, a slight tug confirming the heavy iron shackles that held your arms taught above your head.
The taste of iron filled your mouth, red blood coating your tongue as you swiped it along the gash on your busted lip. With a groan, you instinctively moved to stretch your wings, only to feel an excruciating pull against them.
You dared to look up, bile rising in your throat as you took in the sight of your wings nailed to the wall. Spread out on display for your enemies, bleeding from the holes in which iron pierced through them.
“Ah, it’s awake,” a male rumbled as he strode into the room with preternatural grace. You immediately recognized him as one of Lucien and Eris’s brothers - a Lord of the Autumn Court. The two other males you recognized from before flanked him on either side as they stalked towards your limp, bleeding form. “Now we begin.”
Days passed, questions you couldn’t possibly know the answers to being strung at you like arrows to a target. With each failed answer, a slash was delivered to your wings, the once beautiful source of pride for you now a tattered, mangled mess, blood trailing and staining the floor around you.
“I will ask you one last time, where is Gwydion?” the Autumn Lord asked, dagger flipping in his pale hand as amber eyes assessed you. 
“Fuck you,” you spat, blood spewing from your mouth at the venomous male. His nostrils flared, anger rolling from him in waves as the hilt of his dagger clanged against the stone above your wing. Gripping your chin, a wicked smile spread across the male’s face as his arm dragged the blade down.
It cut through your wing like butter, your screams only slightly muffled by the tight grip he held on your chin. Azriel’s face flashed in your mind, your bond subconsciously reaching out to your mate as you realized you would never be together in this life.
Vision turned red, thoughts incoherent from the pain as words were uttered in your ear. You could hear the sick satisfaction in his voice as your torturer dragged the blade down your other wing, fully severing it from your body.
With a sickening sound, your wings slumped to the ground beside you only so briefly before they were lifted up and tossed like sacks of flour to the other males. “Pin them up, so it can have a view while it dies,” the red-haired male ordered before leaving the room.
You were soon alone, vision fading into your old wings in front of you, and out as you pictured Azriel’s face. Leaning back against the jagged stumps where your wings once were, you finally allowed the tears to fall. Perhaps it was selfish when your mate loved another, but all you wanted in your last moments was to feel those hands you’d avoided for months, to look in the depths of golden and green eyes and feel comforted knowing you would find him in the next life.
Your eyes drifted shut, the scent of cedar and mist filling your senses as you thanked the Mother for one last moment of comfort before your life ended. 
Of course, you wouldn’t find peace in the afterlife either. Bright sun filtered into whatever room you were in, the space horribly similar to your home in Prythian as your head pounded in pain. You dared to open your eyes, and for the first time in nearly a year, smile.
Dark curls fell in front of hazel eyes as they focused on you, chilled mist and cedar giving you a dizzying satisfaction.
“I knew I’d find you in  the next life,” you whispered, voice rasp in pain as you looked to Azriel sitting on the bed in front of you.
His brows dipped in confusion, head tilting as a scarred thumb caressed your cheek. “What next life?” he murmured, pain lacing his tone.
Your eyes fluttered shut once more, already tired from the effort of speaking. “In the last life, you loved Elain. But I knew I would find you in the next. I’m your mate in every world, and I’ll wait until you love me back, Az,” you admitted, half-asleep as you melted into the soft cushion under your head.
You heard a gasp, your eyes straining to open as Azriel looked down at you. Tears fell freely down his flushed cheeks, lip wobbling as his hands cupped your face. “I love you. In this life, and every other. I am so, so sorry that I failed you.”
Reaching a hand up to hold his, you savored the warmth against your cheek and smiled. “I will find you in every lifetime, Azriel. Be whatever you need.”
Leaning down, Azriel pressed his forehead to yours as he breathed, “You are all I need. In every lifetime.” 
Patting the bed, you urged Azriel into the space next to you, falling asleep in your mate’s arms, filled with a deep peace unlike that which you had ever known.
Part Two
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squoxle · 3 months
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On the kitchen counter, in the school storage unit, I don’t care
I think I like it in the kitchen😏...
🖤 𝐹𝓊𝒸𝓀 𝑀𝑒 𝐿𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝒜 𝒮𝓁𝓊𝓉 ~ 𝒮𝓊𝓃𝑔𝒽𝑜𝑜𝓃 𝒻𝒻 𝟣𝟪+
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📷pairing: Sunghoon!procrastinator!bf x Reader!afab | 📷wc:1.4k | 📷summary: Your boyfriend, Sunghoon, procrastinated with completing a video assignment for school, but when you came over to help him you ended up making a different type of video |📷cw: unprotected sex, pussy eating, voyeurism/exhibitionism, spitting, dirty talk, pet names [slut, princess, whore, etc.], masturbation, choking, oral m. and fm. receiving (basically, porn with a plot)
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“I can’t believe you waited until the last fucking minute to do this,” you sighed as you walked through the door, greeting your procrastinator of a boyfriend. "This video assignment is due tomorrow and you haven't even started."
“I didn’t feel like doing it though,” Sunghoon said, running his fingers through his hair as he trailed behind you.
“So you just waited for me?”
“Is that a problem?”
“Uhhh yeah,” you replied as you slid your puffy coat off of your shoulders.
“You didn’t have a problem when I waited for you the other day,” he smirked as you thought back to the events that transpired a few days ago.
“That was different,” you spat, trying your best to hold back the smile.
“Was it? Because I do remember you saying something along the lines of ‘wait! I’m not ready to c—“ you cut him off with a playful push to his arm.
“Just go get the damn camera,” you said as you swiveled yourself into one of the metal barstools. Even though you were wearing jeans, you could still feel the cold steel against your thighs.
Sunghoon chuckled to himself before walking off to grab the camera from his room. You distracted yourself with random thoughts while you waited for your boyfriend to return.
You gasped as you felt Sunghoon’s lips against your cheek. He gently pecked your face as he reached a hand down to grip your thigh.
“Smile princess,” he said, using his free hand to hold the camera at an angle that caught the actions going on between the two of you.
You rolled your eyes as he placed the camera on the counter.
“Hoon, we need to focus,” you giggled as he spun you around to face him.
“I am focusing.”
“On your project.”
“Hmm, fine,” he pouted before leaning in to kiss your lips.
After a few failed attempts at the video’s introduction, Sunghoon was just about ready to give up.
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“Hoon, come on. This is due tomorrow. We need to get some footage or else we’ll have nothing to edit. Therefore, nothing to present. No video, equal nothing to turn in and that’s gonna be a zero,” you sighed in an attempt to encourage your boyfriend to at least make something.
“I don’t even fucking care anymore. So what if I get a zero. One zero won’t fuck my grades up that much,” he shrugged.
“That’s not the point,” you said as he plopped down in a chair. “How about I do it with you? Would that make it easier?”
“Hmm…maybe,” he sighed, tilting his head back. “But I really just don’t want to do it. I’d rather be doing something else,” he smirked.
“Sunghoon. Focus,” you spat. “Now come on, get over here before I change my mind,” you adjusted the tripod and lenses to get a shot of you and Sunghoon in frame.
“Fine~” he hummed, jerking his body out of the seat before walking over to you. “Is it recording?”
“What do you think?” You asked sarcastically.
“What do you think,” he mocked you as he noticed the red light. "Can you start it? Just for the practice run," you slightly rolled your eyes at his request. "Please. And I promise I'll do it next," he pouted.
Looking at that face, only one thing crossed your mind, if he wasn't your boyfriend you would walked away by now. Ditching his lazy ass to figure it out on his own.
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"Ugh, fine," you groaned as smiled so hard you thought he was gonna break his jaw. "Hi, I'm--" you were cut off by Sunghoon grabbing your hips as he pressed himself into you. "Sunghoon--"
"Shh. I'm trying to focus," he said as he persisted to gently push into from behind.
"Sunghoon--"
"Please, Princess. I promise I'll do it after we finish."
"But--"
"I can't think straight if my dick is aching to fuck the shit out of you," he said as you now came aware of his growing hard that he rubbed against you.
You couldn't deny the fact that sometimes you could be equally as conceited as him. Just the idea of him being so turned on because of you was enough to get you going.
"Okay, but we gotta be quick alright," you said as you looked over your shoulder to meet his eyes.
He reached his hands around you, sliding your pants to your ankles as he kneeled down to glide his tongue between your folds. The wetness increasing from a mixture of his saliva and your own juices as you moaned from his satisfying touch.
You looked down to see him palming himself through his sweats as he let out soft moans while tongue fucking you. You couldn't help but swirl your ass around as he pulled out his dick, stroking it with one hand while he continued to eat you out. "Fuck, princess. You taste so fucking good."
He pushed you back onto the countertop, sliding you across the cold surface as he spread your legs to expose your sloppy wet pussy. Every part of your body belonged to him and he made sure to remind you anytime you fucked. "Mmm, look at my pretty little fuck hole," he grinned as he pressed his thumb into your clit, slightly massaging it before pushing his tip against your opening.
He teased you with it, gliding it back and forth without going in. You were at the point where you were ready to push it in yourself, but you knew how much he loved to torture you with pleasure. "I know you want me slut. I know you want my dick deep inside of you," he said as he gripped your thighs tighter. "Tell me how bad you want me to fuck you."
You broke, craving his dick more than anything, "I want you to fuck me so bad," hearing these words placed a little grin on his face as he spat on your pussy before pushing every inch into your throbbing cunt. You let out a high-pitched squeal as you felt him enter you. "Ah," you moaned.
"Ngh, fuck. I wanna see that pretty face while I fuck you," he said as he grabbed the camera pointing it to your face as your eyebrows furrowed. "Mmm, fuck you look so sexy. My sexy fucking cum slut," he said as he started fucking you faster.
"Tell me how much of a whore you are for me," he huffed moving the camera down to get a shot of his dick pumping in and out of your slimy pussy. "Ugh! I'm such a dirty slut. Your dick feels so fucking good inside of me," you hiccuped as you felt his dick pumping deeper into you.
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"Mmm, fuck yes. You're my slutty little princess," he said as he bit into your neck. He caught a shot of your face as he sucked on your neck. "God, I love those delicious sounds you make," overwhelmed with pleasure he placed the camera down as he pushed you down onto the countertop, gripping his hands around your throat as he kept fucking you.
He pulled your legs over his shoulders, as he picked up the speed. He was almost whining at this point as he fucked you mercilessly. "Ugh! Ngh! You feel so fucking good, princess," he moaned as he slammed against your juicy pussy. You were moaning uncontrollably at this point, heaving your chest as he tore your legs open more, pressing your thighs into the surface as the two of you came at the same time.
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You felt his cum spill inside of you as you caught your breath. You must've blacked out because you didn't remember anything else when you woke up naked next to Sunghoon who was jerking off to the video you unintentionally made last night.
"Sunghoon," you groaned as the sounds of him stroking himself were muffled by the cover. "You're just so sexy, I couldn't help myself," he said as he continued pleasing himself. "Did you at least finish the project?" you asked as you reached your hand down to hold his hand as it moved up and down his length.
"Of course I did. And I submitted it. See, I told you I was gonna do it," he said as he pulled the cover back exposing his cock as he held out his hand for you to spit on it before using your wetness to stimulate his dick some more. "Hmm, well I'm glad I could help," you said, lowering down to suck on his pink tip before he pushed your head down, throat fucking you as he let the video play beside him.
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❀ Thank you all so much for reading! Make sure to check out other works on my masterlist!
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rninies · 3 months
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✮ it's my hoodie now! - gojo satoru
synopsis: you just love your boyfriend's clothes a little too much.
warnings: fem!reader, fluff, reader is a clothes stealer, annoyed gojo (not really) — wc: 890
notes: two fics in a row???????? this is a miracle
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it was no secret that you love wearing satoru’s clothes. not only does it smell like him, but it’s also comfortable (forget it being way too big on you). satoru would always wake up to a few of his clothes missing, especially his hoodies. it’s not like you hate wearing your clothes, but wearing satoru’s clothes makes you feel safe. there’s no other explanation for why it does, but it does.
“hey, have you seen my hoodie?” satoru walks into the bedroom, seeing you sprawled on the bed as you scrolled through your phone. “you’re wearing it, aren’t you.”
“oh, hi toru.” you lift your head a bit, give him a quick smile, and go back to your phone. “did you need something?”
“yes. i need the hoodie you’re wearing.” satoru crosses his arms, patiently waiting for you to give him back his hoodie. you sighed in defeat, sat up, and took the hoodie off, revealing a plain white shirt (which is so obviously too big on you). “do any of the clothes you’re wearing belong to you?!”
“what are you talking about” feigning innocence, you pretend to not know what he’s saying. “i have no idea what you’re talking about.”
satoru groans. “the shirt you’re wearing is mine, and i know for a fact that you don’t have those sweatpants.”
“why’re you complaining? the first few weeks we started dating, you insisted on me wearing your clothes!” you defended yourself, huffing. “and now you’re complaining? do you not love me anymore?” you stifled a laugh seeing satoru’s reaction.
“yeah, well i didn’t mean to use my clothes every day!” satoru walks over to the closet and opens it, showing you all the clothes you own. “all the clothes you own, and you still insist on wearing mine.”
“i’m just fulfilling your wish from seven months ago.” you shrugged. “i don’t know why you’re complaining so much.” you stood up and grabbed another one of satoru’s hoodie from the closet. “i’m borrowing this.”
“wha-” satoru grabs the hoodie from your hands, holding it high up in the air. “no way! go use one of your own hoodies!”
you jumped, trying to take back the hoodie. “hey! come on, i’m just borrowing it! it’s not like i’m going to steal it from you. besides, i’m your girlfriend. you should allow me to use your clothes!”
“your idea of borrowing is-” he holds the hoodie even higher. “is basically saying ‘it’s my hoodie now!’ you’re not even going to give it back to me!”
“hey, i know when to give things back to people! it’s just that i love your hoodies so much because they’re comfortable.” you took a breather, tired from all the jumping. “besides, they smell like you so if you’re out busy and i’m all alone in this apartment i can feel you hugging me just by using your hoodie.”
you give satoru the puppy eyes, hoping he’ll give in. he stays quiet for fifteen seconds before sighing in defeat. “ugh, fine. here.” he hands you the hoodie, to which you immediately snatch it from him.
you smiled happily. “thank you! i love you.” you kissed him on the cheek before putting it on. “hey, i have an idea, actually.”
“what is it?” satoru asks, sitting down on the bed next to you.
“just for once, why don’t you wear something of mine? tomorrow for work,” you suggested, and he immediately frowned.
“no way.” satoru declines immediately, making you pout. “no. i am not wearing any of your clothes.”
“excuse me? how could you do this to me.” you dramatically say. “you won’t wear clothes from your favorite person ever? your girlfriend? your beloved? your-”
satoru covers your mouth, preventing you from saying anything else. “okay, okay! i get it. just… just don’t give me any of your weird shirts.”
you smiled mischievously. “i won’t. don’t worry.” you stand up and open the closet, eyes wandering over the pile of clothes. “turn around. i want to surprise you.”
“huh? why do i have to- fine.” satoru turns his back towards you and you immediately grab one of the oversized t-shirt you just bought yesterday.
“okay, you can turn around now,” you say.
once satoru turns around, his jaw drops. “i am not wearing that! the t-shirt has things printed on it that say ‘alpha male’ with a unicorn and rainbow just above it. “what the fuck?! where did you even get this thing?!”
you laughed out loud. “i bought it from the store yesterday. they were selling really weird t-shirts and i found this masterpiece! come on, you said you will!”
“no way. i’d rather do your chores for a week than wear this atrocious thing.” satoru cringes as he takes another look at the shirt.
“really?! you mean that?” you threw the shirt on the floor, walking closer to satoru. “will you really do my chores for a week?!”
“yes. i’d rather do that than-”
“okay! deal! you don’t have to wear that shirt anymore.” you jumped on the bed happily. “thank you, baby.”
“yeah, yeah whatever-” satoru stills for a few seconds, suddenly realizing something. “wait a minute… did you plan all of this just so you could get out of chores for a week?”
you smiled cheekily. “mhm.”
“i hate you.”
“i love you too, toru.”
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taglist: @planetnini @xintre <3
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cloudsmateria · 29 days
Text
cloud strife x reader - new kitten!
summary: you surprise cloud with a kitten when he comes back from a mission, but of course, he hates cats.
this is so fluffy and omg i loved writing it it was so cute. look at this grump ass guy
(not proofread but i will proofread it tomorrow)
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"I'm back." Cloud says as he comes in through the door, propping his sword up by the door. Bags are dropping from his eyes, so tired he doesn't notice your malicious grin as you come up to him wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him on the nose. 
"I missed you." You say, he flashes a smile of contentment as his arms go around your waist, pecking your forehead. 
"I missed you too." You pull away, leaving the kitten you hid behind his back on his shoulder. He hears a mew from his shoulder, tiredly turning to the noise. "Shit!" He shouts, jolting back, his back hitting the door as you quickly catch the kitten in your hands. "What is that?!"
"Kitten." You smile, lifting it up to his face as he presses himself against the door more, turning his head away. "It's so cute isn't it?"
"I leave you alone... For 2 days..." He breathes, closing his eyes.
"Correct, your leaving liberates me to make good choices."
"Maybe you're so taken by your despair that you don't think." He says slowly gathering the courage to face the kitten.
"You're cute." You push it against his face, as he cups his hand underneath it and sighs, looking at it in his hands. 
"I need a shower." He says, placing it on the bed and leaving. 
"You're not mad, right?" You ask, following him into the bathroom
"No, I'm just exhausted." He says, turning on the hot water.
"You're mad."
"Get out."
You frown, respecting his wishes and returning to the kitten, holding her close to your face. "At least I have you." By the time he's done, you're laying on the bed with the kitten on your chest as he comes out in his sweatpants and black shirt. "Cloud?"
He sighs and sits on the bed beside you, reluctantly moving to pet the cat with stiff, nervous hands. You feel relief wash over your chest as he tries his best. "You can't stay mad at me for long."
"I'm not mad."
"Then look at me."
He looks at you, his blue eyes meeting yours. "What's the deal with the cat anyway?"
"I found her in a box on the side of the road, she was basically crying with her mews. I couldn't leave her there."
"But why do you have to keep it here? Why can't you give her to Aerith?"
"Because I love cats, this is our daughter now. We're parents!" You grin, hugging her close.
"You're ridiculous." He scoffs, laying down on his back, you take this as an invitation to curl up next to him and place the kitten on his chest.
"I know you're scared of cats."
"That is not true."
"You were acting like I threw a grenade on you." You giggle, he strokes the kitten's head more comfortably this time.
"We have enough scars as it is." And I have enough things taking up my girlfriend's attention, he thinks.
"Don't worry, she's a good girl. I was hoping you'd help me name her. What do you think about Empress of Despair?" He bursts out laughing.
"What?" He laughs.
"General Machine Gun."
"Where do you even get these names from?"
"Supreme Commander of the Kittens."
"Please stop."
"I have more." You grin. "Why are you laughing?"
"You’re ridiculous." He grins, his laughs calming down as you sit up on his waist.
"Why don't you come up with one then?" He looks down at the kitten, trying to think of something.
"How about... Cosmo?"
"So we're just naming her after a cocktail? That's disappointing, Cloud."
"Fine, how about..." He sighs. "Aerith?"
You snort. "Oh yeah, totally didn't see that coming. She's not an Aerith, she's a Cloud."
"That's a weird name for a cat."
"Not if it's a girl cat."
"Are you saying I have a girl's name?"
"Well..."  You smile, he holds a hand over his heart as he groans in pain. 
"The pain of it all, the betrayal."
"You certainly act like one."
"Ugh!" He jolts as if he's been punched. "Take it back." He groans, writhing in his place as the poor kitten stares confused at the both of you. You pick her up, laughing at him and getting off of his waist to sit with her in your lap.
"I think Cloud suits her well. Fluffy and white like a Cloud. Like both Clouds." You stroke the kitten's head.
"Really? She's stolen my girlfriend, and my name?"
"I think you should earn my affection back." You tease.
"Or we can just give the cat to Aerith and I keep my girlfriend."
"You're going to let Aerith steal the love of my life?"
"Love of your life, huh?" He smiles, sitting up.
"Of course! This is my offspring."
"You've only had her for a day and you're already forgetting about me. Come on, I just got back from a long mission and this is how you neglect me?"
"These are the responsibility that comes with having kids, sweetheart."
"I see how it is. Well, I'm sure that cat will love to see the inside of an alleyway again." He jokes.
"Don't listen to him, Cloud. He's not taking you."
"You don't know that." He reaches for her but you move back, defensively. He sighs. "Are we really going to keep her?"
"Yes, you have no choice."
"Well, I suppose having a kid with you wouldn't be so bad." Your stomach flutters at the statement. He shakes his head and laughs again. "You've taken over my apartment, my free time, my money, my friends and my autonomy."
"That's how girlfriends work."
"Psychopathic girlfriends."
"Watch your mouth before I take your will to live too."
"Too late, you took that a long time ago."
"What happened to the guy who was always blushing around me?"
"He was weak and died." He says. "And you're the psychopath that killed him." You snort, the way he's loosened up around you in the past few months of you dating has been surprising, but a wonderful side to him, being the only person he's this comfortable around. "What do I have to do to win you back?" He asks.
"1,000 gil." He laughs again. "Anything else?"
"A kiss."
"I'm not kissing a psychopath." 
"Unfortunately," You smile, leaning over his face. "I've taken away your autonomy." He leans up to peck your lips, taking the cat out of your hands and sitting up. "Cloud Strife." You say seriously.
"Mhm." He hums, stroking the cat.
"Do you love me?"
"No." He says simply, still petting the kitten.
"So when you told me before the mission started that you loved me, that was a lie?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"And when we-"
"Yes." He says, nodding his head, the serious expression on his face making it hard for you to keep a straight face.
"You're so mean."
"You were just going to try get more money out of me, which is ridiculous when I've just let you keep this kitten."
"You're admitting she's staying?"
He scoops the kitten up, holding her against his face. "If we're keeping her, she's sleeping on the floor."
"Poor General Grievous." He laughs again, this time there's a knock on the door. 
"Come in."
Tifa walks in, her arms crossed. "What is going on in here? I don't think I've ever heard Cloud laugh in my life. It's terrifying. Y/n, what did you do to him?"
"This. This is what she did to me." Tifa sees the kitten in his hands, gasping, running over and grabbing her out of his hands. Followed by a series of repeated 'oh my gods' 'aww' 'she's so cute!'. You shake your head at Cloud. 
"You've only had her 10 minutes and you've already let her get kidnapped."
"All part of the plan."
"What did you name her? Oh, she's so precious. She looks just like Fluffy did."
"Y/n's stuck between General Grievous and Cloud Strife."
"You're terrible."
"A good one just came to me! Buster!" Cloud said.
"Yes!" Tifa shouted. 
"Fenrir!"
"No!"
"Okay, okay, how about General Nefarious," Cloud said, mimicking you.
"That's worse!" You say, throwing a pillow at his face.
"Buster. A good name for a kitten with two badass parents with two badass aunties." Tifa smiled.
"To clear it up, Cloud's a mommy and I'm a daddy and we're raising her to be the greatest kitten, no, creature in the universe." Cloud gave you a look of disgust, Tifa giggling as she played with the kitten. 
"I can't believe you didn't tell me right away."
"If you like her that much, you can have her." Cloud said.
"Cloud!"
"That offer still stands." He mouths to Tifa, she smiles and puts Buster back on his lap.
"Well, I have work tomorrow so you can figure that out among yourselves. See you later, mommy." She said, kissing the kitten on the head and making her leave.
"This is what I get for letting her come in. She calls me mommy. I can't imagine how you could make my life any worse." 
"I'll find a way, starting with letting you get some rest." You say, flipping the lights off, picking Buster up and going to put her in a makeshift box in the corner, made out of a box you found her in and blankets. You lay down beside him, and he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you against him, nuzzling into your neck.
"I hate you so much." He murmurs, kissing your neck, making your skin tingle.
"Oh really?"
"My girlfriend is the most annoying person in the world. It's not my fault."
"I'm going to make your life miserable."
"I've heard."
 You roll your eyes, kissing him one final time. "Goodnight."
"Night."
"I love you."
"Liar."
...
The next morning, you wake up and see Cloud with Buster snoring on his chest and a hand cradling her back…
Maybe he does like cats.
a/n: this is kind of shit but it was such a fun fic to write
174 notes · View notes
astrayas · 2 months
Text
Pressure Point
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Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x fem reader 
Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
WC: 6k
Summary: When you run into Toji Fushiguro for the first time in years, you find him in the most unexpected position: as your new massage therapist.
18+!!!
Ao3 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
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“…So she wasn’t able to make it in today. I’m so sorry for the short notice!”
You sling your bag back onto your shoulder and rub your neck, masking your disappointment with a polite smile. 
“Oh…that’s a shame,” you say. You were really looking forward to your appointment today. Your usual masseuse is nothing less than an artist, and you’ve got plenty of knots to work out right now. “Well, when’s the next time she’s free?”
“Since you’re one of her regulars, I think we could work you in tomorrow…” the manager chirps, clicking at her computer. She takes a few minutes, clearly unfamiliar with the software. They’re really understaffed today. “But…oh! Actually, there is someone available to take you right now.”
“Oh?” You perk back up again, which is all it takes to strain your muscles. You wince just a bit. You really need some relief.
“Yes! He’s actually our top massage therapist. His new clients normally have to book him months in advance, but it looks like he had a cancellation today. I can go grab him, if you’re interested!”
You deflate just a little. Him? You’ve never seen a male massage therapist, and you weren’t planning to start today. Then your shoulder whines at you again, as if to protest your hesitation, and you’re rubbing at it before you realize it.
Well, if he’s really that good…
“Um. Sure,” you force out. “If it’s not too much trouble.”
“Not at all!” She springs to her feet and graces you with a polished customer service smile. “Please, have a seat. I’ll go let him know.”
“Thanks,” you mutter, a rush of nerves guiding your short, stilted steps to the nearest chair. You flop into it and try to reason with yourself. If you get uncomfortable, you can just leave. But he’s their top massage therapist. He obviously knows what he’s doing, and you really need—
“Nuh-uh. I don’t do walk-ins.”
A loud, gruff voice booms from the hallway, clearly audible through the thick waiting room door. Whoever’s speaking doesn’t seem to care about indoor voices. You have to strain to hear the manager’s response.
“She’s not a walk-in!” she argues. “She had an appointment, but Rei called out at the last minute.”
“Sounds like that’s Rei’s problem, then.”
After a few seconds of silence, you stand up. This sounds like more trouble than it’s worth. You can wait another day; you’ll just tell them you’ll reschedule. 
“Come on! This client’s been coming to us for years. We can’t lose her!” the manager pleads. 
“You can’t lose her. I’ll be just fine.”
Your lip curls in disgust as you hoist your bag over your aching shoulder. People book this guy months in advance? Whatever. You can just leave and call them later. But as you turn to walk out the door, you hear one last exchange.
“Ugh…how about this? I’ll give you a few extra days off next month.”
You pause mid-step. 
“…I want a week.”
“A week?”
“I’ve been working my fingers to the bone for you for God knows how long. I want a week, or I walk.”
Another long, heavy silence, but you’re still listening.
“…Fine. Fine. I’ll make it happen. Just go out there and be pleasant, alright?”
“I’m never anything but,” the gruff voice hums, and you can just barely hear the manager groan as the door flies open. The strap on your bag slides down your shoulder at the same moment, and you look down as you pull it back up with a grimace.
“You must be the one Rei stranded today. Nice to meet you. I’m—“
He freezes mid-sentence. When you finally look back up, you freeze, too.
“Toji…” you murmur.
You’ve lost count of the years it’s been since you and Toji Fushiguro parted ways. But you could go a century without seeing that face and still recognize it. The scar on his mouth, his fierce green eyes, his strong, chiseled frame…none of it’s really easy to forget.
But it’s his most unforgettable feature—his big, wolfish grin—that traps you in place when it’s clear he recognizes you, too.
“Well, well,” he croons, an irritating melody ringing in his voice as he holds the door open and extends his hand. “Come on back, ma’am. Last door on the left.”
You shuffle past him without so much as a “Thank you” and grip the strap of your bag tight. God, why did it have to be him? Out of all the people who could have walked out of that door, why him?
You step into the room he pointed you to and take it in with wide eyes. This is certainly a step up from your usual setup with Rei. It’s bigger, but the atmosphere is so much more intimate. Soft, ambient music drifts through the room. Candles flicker on select small tables lining the perimeter of the space, playing on the velvety flower petals artfully arranged on the floor and the massage table. It’s downright romantic.
But it’s the table itself, lying in the center of the room, that draws most of your attention. It’s plush and oversized, draped in crisp, clean linens and adorned with a fluffy duvet and a lavish pillow. It almost looks like it was made for sleeping instead.
And it looks…sturdy.
“So. Been a while since you up and vanished,” Toji says with little ceremony, shutting the door behind him. “What have you been—”
“So is this a sex thing? Is that what you do here?” you blurt out. He blinks at you, mouth falling slightly open, and crosses his arms.
“Wow. That’s the first thing you say to me in six years?” he rasps.
Six years. It’s been six long years. 
You blink back at him a few more times before you register what you just said, and you slap a hand to your mouth several seconds too late. 
“Uh—shit—” you stutter, your hand rising to slap your forehead. “I didn’t mean—” 
After some lengthy floundering, which he lets you do in perfect silence, your hands finally drop to your sides, and you heave a deep sigh.
“I just—this is a big bed—”
“You mean a massage table.”
“And apparently you’re the most requested guy here—”
“Because I’m a good massage therapist.”
“And you were a criminal the last time we talked!” you finish. Your voice rises a little more than you intended, and that goddamned knot in your shoulder spasms. You rub at it desperately and take a calming breath. 
Something like a low growl rumbles in Toji’s chest as he strolls over to the sink and washes his hands. 
“If I’m remembering correctly—and I am—you weren’t an upstanding citizen back then, either,” he flings back. He dries his hands, turns back around, and leans against the counter, looking you up and down. “At least my crimes were impressive.”
You set your bag on a nearby chair and scoff at him. “Yeah. So impressive I just couldn’t bear to live in your shadow anymore.”
“Cute,” he sneers. “You want the damn massage or not? Because you clearly need it.”
“Oh, like you can really tell—”
“Your right shoulder. That one’s obvious.” He pushes himself away from the counter and closes the distance between you with just a couple steps. “You keep rubbing at it like a maniac. But the way you’re standing right now tells me you have pain in your lower back, too. Right about…” He circles behind you, a shadow of a grin growing on his face before he disappears from your sight. You shiver when he rests a large, strong hand exactly where the small of your back hurts the most. “...Here.”
You spin back around and scowl at him. He holds his hands up in an innocent gesture.
“Yeah, those are my biggest problem areas,” you mutter. 
“Then let’s take care of ‘em,” he proposes, sauntering over to the door. “Believe it or not, I am a professional now. I take my clients seriously.”
His eyes glint when he turns the knob.
“Even petty thieves like you.”
Your blood pressure instantly shoots through the sky. 
“Don’t think I won’t—” you start, unsure of what vague threat you’re about to make, but he’s already halfway out the door.
“I’ll give you a few minutes to get undressed,” he nearly sings. “Start out face-down.”
And with that, he’s gone. The door shuts with a click, leaving every stupid knot in your back to tense up and scream even louder. You don’t even bother hanging your clothes on any of the hooks nearby, opting to pelt them to the floor instead. Infuriating. He’s infuriating. He’s every bit as infuriating as he was all those years ago, when you were just two delinquents among many wreaking havoc in town.
Back when you thought he was the sexiest, funniest, dreamiest guy on earth.
You smack some petals off the table before you settle under the sheets, lying on your stomach. Whatever. It’s not like the feeling was mutual. What did you even see in him back then, anyway? Other than the eyes and the muscles and the voice and the face and the—
Toji knocks on the door.
“You decent?” he calls from the other side. 
“No,” you sniff. “But I’m under the sheet. You can come in.”
He chuckles as he lets himself back in and promptly closes the door. You can only see his feet as he walks past you and stops at the counter, and he shakes a bottle.
“Alright. So, I know your shoulder and your lower back are your biggest problems right now, but I’ll find your other pressure points as we work,” he announces, instantly professional. “But first, I need to ask if you’ve got any areas I should avoid.”
“Nope,” you inform the floor. “It’s all up for grabs.”
He laughs again, and you curse yourself under your breath. What an atrocious choice of words. 
“Good to know,” he hums. Ugh. He sounds too pleased. 
Your heart skips as soon as he pulls the sheet down from your shoulders all the way to just above your backside. He gets straight to work, starting by feeling for tight areas.
“Yeesh. You’ve got trigger points all the way down your back,” he marvels. “It’s almost impressive.”
“Yeah, that sounds about right,” you sigh.
You have to admit it: even now, even as he just searches and assesses, his touch is divine. It must be thanks to those dexterous fingers, those powerful hands, his shocking familiarity with every part of the human body…
You squeeze your eyes shut in a desperate bid to push the thoughts out. Stupid. Stupid. What a stupid crush you had on him. You start talking just to fill your head with something, anything else.
“How’d you even fall into this line of work? It’s not—“ Your breath hitches when you hear him squeeze some oil onto his hands and rub them together. “It’s, um…just not a career path I ever thought you’d take.”
You can hear the grin in his response. “Would you believe me if I said I wanted to help people?”
You answer with some snorting laughter, which tells him enough.
“Thought not,” he sighs. “No point in lying, then.” His hands work their way to the rough spot on your shoulder, and you brace yourself. “Honestly? It’s good money. That’s all there is to it.”
“That I believe,” you answer, screwing your eyes shut when he starts working that knot. This is going to be a rough session, you just know it.
“Jesus, you’re tight,” he mumbles, genuine shock lining his voice. “What do you do these days?”
“I’m just an office worker,” you grunt. You take a deep breath when he digs in again. 
“An office worker and…what? A cage fighter? A trapeze artist? These are insane knots for an office worker.”
“I’ve got—phew—I’ve got really bad posture,” you mutter. You squirm under his movements. 
“Clearly. You must be hunched over 24/7.”
This time, you don’t answer him. Deep tissue massages can hurt, sure, but this is on a whole new level. You bear with him for about another minute before you wave him away.
“God, Toji, are all your clients masochists?!” you cry, glaring at the floor. You keep lying flat on your stomach, waiting for the pain to ebb away.
“…Some are,” he croons.
Your hands tense at your sides. “So it is—”
“I’m joking, damn,” he huffs. He switches to your other shoulder and, mercifully, handles it with a lot less pressure. “I mean, I’m sure some are. I wouldn’t know. People just come to me when they’ve got injuries and chronic issues. When it comes to that slow, painful deep tissue massage, I’m the best around.”
“Solving pain with pain,” you remark. He slides down to the middle of your back and digs into a spot just to the left of your spine. “That does sound right up your alley.”
“...I see you’ve still got a mouth on you,” he grumbles, and whether consciously or not, he pushes down especially hard. You suck in a breath and screw your eyes shut. “How’d you land a cushy office job with your attitude?”
“I learned when to keep my mouth shut,” you fight to answer, focusing on your breathing. “I was wondering the same thing about you, based on that conversation I heard in the hallway. Do you always talk to your managers like that?”
“Ha!” He pulls his hands away and rubs some more oil between them. “Only the ones who can’t afford to lose me. Business has been booming since I started here. And, damn, you should see the tips I get.”
“Tips?” you squawk, pushing yourself onto your elbows and staring up at him. “What do you mean, you get tips? What do you do to earn tips?”
“Um.”
Toji clears his throat and looks to the side. It’s only when he physically covers his eyes with his hand do you realize you pushed yourself so far up you nearly exposed your chest. 
“Oh. Sorry…” you mumble, flopping back down. Heat erupts on your skin. You’re really excelling at making an ass of yourself today.
“What’s with you?” he grunts. He presses a palm against that sore spot at the small of your back. “We’re allowed to accept tips here. Why are you so sure I’m just doing weird sex stuff?”
Before you can answer, he starts applying pressure to the spot. Lots of it. To your surprise, it actually feels…good. So in lieu of a response, you simply let out a groan that lasts a little too long. And just beneath it, just for a moment, you swear you can hear a pleased sound humming in him, too.
“Don’t tell me…” His thumbs rub the small of your back in slow, deep circles. “...you were hoping for it?”
Your eyes shoot open. But he pushes in again, granting you deeper relief, and you lose the will to snap back at him. Not when he’s finally easing all that tension.
“Are you disappointed I don’t offer any special services?”
“Gimme a break,” you manage to say. But that’s all you say before his hands slide down to your glutes. Over the sheet, of course, like a professional, and he’s stroking them like any professional massage therapist would. But that doesn’t change the fact that, in a less professional sense…his hands are still on your ass.
“Well, I don’t blame you,” he boasts. He slides a little lower. He’s…really working those glutes. “I know why I really get so many requests. I know why my tips are so great. I mean, just look at me—”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” you spit, wriggling out of his hands and flipping onto your back. You’re careful to keep the sheet over your chest this time. “I heard enough of that for a lifetime back in the day.”
“Hey. I’m not done with your back,” he pouts, frowning at you.
“Can we come back to it later? You’re gonna break it at this rate.”
“Coulda just asked me to be gentler.” He lifts the sheet away from your left leg and takes your foot in his hand. “I can do that.” 
As if to prove his point, he uses a single thumb to gently stroke the inside of your arch. Exactly where it aches after a long day in heels. How did he know that was a sore spot, too?
“I listen to my clients,” he continues, stretching out your foot and sliding up your leg. He starts kneading the lowest part of your thigh, just above the knee. “Another reason why I end the day with so much extra cash.”
“I get it,” you mutter. “You have an awesome job and you make lots of money because you’re super hot. Congratulations.”
“Super hot, huh?” he whirs. “I mean, I know, but it’s nice to hear from that mouth you allegedly know how to keep shut.”
“Ugh.” You desperately try to focus your attention on the soothing motions of his fingers. “Can’t believe I used to have such a big crush on you.”
For a moment, for a fleeting, measly fraction of a second, his hands jerk. Then they pick back up as usual, gliding a little farther up your thigh. It takes him a few seconds to answer.
“Did you, now?”
Your brows furrow, but you keep your eyes closed.
“C’mon, Toji, it was so obvious,” you sigh. “There’s no way you didn’t know.”
“I really didn’t,” he says flatly. His fingers dig a little deeper into your skin. “We ran with a big group, remember? I…didn’t get to see you as much as I wanted to.”
You shift a bit under his touch. “As much as you wanted to?”
“...See? You didn’t know I had a thing for you, either.” 
His fingers linger on your thigh, rubbing the same spot over and over. Finally, you open your eyes. You sit up to rest on your elbows and look right at him. And in the dim, flickering candlelight, you take a moment to really study his face for the first time in six years. 
Six years that haven’t done much to age him, really. His jaw is still strong and sharp. The deep scar etched into his lip still hasn’t faded. His hands, which you’ve become very familiar with today, are still powerful, with veins and tendons that ripple just beneath the skin, with fingertips calloused but not rough. And his muscles are still toned and strong, if that tight black t-shirt has anything to say about it. 
“Well. What could have been, right?” you murmur. You glance to the side and let your head fall back onto the table; you can’t bear to hold eye contact any longer. 
After a long, tense moment, he pulls the sheet back over your left leg and moves to your other side.
“...Yeah. What could’ve been.”
He moves up your leg the same way he did the first, every knead and stroke therapeutic, but something feels different about his touch. It’s more…clinical. Truly professional now. Like you’re just any other client.
You fight the sinking feeling in your chest. The fact that he never showed he was interested in you stings a little, but that doesn’t matter anymore. There’s a reason you left the way you did. Toji wasn’t good for you, and you weren’t good for him. Nobody in that group you ran with was good for each other. You had to leave while you were still just a petty thief. Before you started racking up “impressive” crimes like him.
Toji’s still quiet as he pulls the sheet back over your legs and moves to the head of the table, settling on a rolling chair and scooting forward. You open your eyes again but look at nothing in particular. You don’t know what to look at. You don’t know what to say.
His hands slide under your shoulders, searching for that especially tight spot again. The moment he finds it, he digs in. You clench your teeth and bear it. Working out a knot can hurt. He’s doing his job. Just let him do his job. Just let him—
“Why’d you leave?”
Your eyes fly back open. His hands haven’t stopped working, but they have slowed.
“What?” you squeak.
“Why did you leave?” he repeats. You glance up and find him staring right back down at you, those deep green eyes glimmering even in the dim light. “Why did you just up and leave like that? No note, no nothin’?”
“Because…” You take a deep breath. It’s been a while since you’ve thought about those days. “Because I just couldn’t keep going like that. I couldn’t keep spending every day scoping out targets, planning which stores I’d hit next. I had to get out and make something of myself. I did it, and…look, you did it, too.”
“But why did you leave like that?” he carries on, his voice tinged with something close to desperation. “Why did you just disappear? Do you know how much that killed me? To just lose you like that, overnight, no explanation?”
You fight against a new sensation in your chest. It’s something rising, growing, gnawing. 
“Because if I’d said anything, you would’ve tried to make me stay,” you answer. 
“I couldn’t sleep at night wondering what happened to you.”
“You were the only one who could have made me stay.”
“When I could sleep, you were in my dreams.”
“You never needed me, Toji! You didn’t need me then, and you don’t need me now!”
“Fuck you for thinking that. And fuck you for just leaving.”
“Fuck you for making me think you wouldn’t care!”
He doesn’t respond to you before he flies to his feet, takes a breath, and walks back to the other end of the table.
“Lie back,” he says. “We’re not done with your massage.”
“Huh?”
“Lie back,” he repeats. “I’ve got some more pressure points to work out.”
“Uh…alright?” you mutter, and slowly, you settle back onto the table and stare at the ceiling. Goosebumps rise on your skin when he pulls the sheet back from one leg again, lifting it all the way to the top of your thigh this time. He squeezes some more oil onto his hands and rests his palm on your knee.
“Did you know you’ve got a lot of tension down here, too?” he asks, his voice low. 
“I mean, it wouldn’t surprise me. I’m tense everywhere.”
“You really are,” he confirms with a soft laugh. “Like…when I was massaging your legs, I kept feeling you tense up when I got around…” His fingers snake their way to your inner thigh. “Here.”
You suck in a breath. “Well, that’s a sensitive area, so…”
And you’re sure you’re tensing up now. But the heated exchange you just shared is still ringing in your ears. That would leave anyone tense, right? 
And it’s normal for your legs to part when they’re tense…right?
Your other leg has only moved a few inches away. But it’s a shift big enough for Toji to notice, and he glances down with a smirk.
“Is it, now?” he purrs. His fingers crawl a little higher up your leg. “Sensitive here, too?”
“Uh-huh…” you murmur, gripping the sheet below you. He’s reaching pretty far up. If he keeps going, it won’t be long before he finds out just how sensitive you’ve been from the moment he started touching you.
But you don’t stop him. You don’t want to.
“And how about—” he starts, but he stops himself when his thumb swipes across one part of your inner thigh a little too quickly. Like it slipped on something slick. 
Your eyes shoot over to him. Well, secret’s out now. But still…you were dripping that far down your leg? That’s almost embarrassing.
His expression, though, suggests he doesn’t think so.
“Oh…” he whispers with a heavy voice, a strained voice, a voice that tells you all professionalism just flew out the window. “I think I know where you’re holding a lot of tension.”
Your heart flutters when his fingers dance their way up to the source of all that tension, when his knuckles graze it with all the pressure of a feather. It starts to ache the same way it did for him years ago, when you thought he never had eyes for you.
“Think you can help me with it?” you invite, parting your legs a little wider.
That little smirk grows into the same wolfish grin he first greeted you with. One finger, one long, strong finger, circles your entrance and slides in. You’re melting and moaning in the same moment, relishing the new ferocity lighting up his eyes.
“I think I can,” he breathes, sliding his finger in and out, up and down. “A special service just for you, since you’re just so damn—” Another finger slips in to join the first. “—tight.”
He waits until he’s up to his palm before he curls both fingers upward, searching for that spot, the source of all that pressure inside you. It takes him all of a second to find it. He beckons back and forth, up and down. He spreads his fingers ever so slightly, settling on a pressure that commands all your attention to that area.
You whimper and close your eyes. There’s so much you want to say. You want to find out where he learned to do that. You want to tease him, ask him how much he’s practiced. But this moment would be better spent, you remind yourself, simply enjoying this instead. So you part your legs a little wider and let him demonstrate just how well he’s learned to use his hands.
He leans forward just far enough to let you glue your hands to his shoulders. As he does, his other hand comes down to push just above your pelvis, his palm grazing your clit, and that tension rises higher and higher.
Then he leans in a little more. Every flicker of the candles reveals a new detail you’d missed in his face before. Every night of sleep he lost. Every day he thought of you. Every test he faced to make something more of himself, just like you did. Your hands work their way up to cradle either side.
And that’s it.
His lips are on yours, and his fingers pump faster. You claim each other in a kiss six years overdue, a kiss so desperate and needy and vicious it nearly consumes you. His tongue finds its way into your mouth and explores it freely. His teeth dig into your lower lip, a gesture as rough as his massage, but it brings you nothing but pleasure.
Pleasure that grows and grows and grows with all that tension he’s working out of you, so close to releasing. Your eyes start to flutter; your nails sink into his shoulders; your walls clench tighter and tighter.
“There it is,” he murmurs, encouraging you to keep going. “Let it loose. Let it out. Let me feel you let it out.”
The palm he’d left on your stomach presses down a little harder, condensing all that pressure into a volatile ball. His fingers beckon your pleasure forward quickly, deftly, and you writhe when you feel your tension threaten to release all at once.
And it releases like an explosion, knocking your head back and pushing your back up from the table. You try to buck your hips, but his hold on your pelvis is so strong that you ride out your ecstasy between his hands instead. Your walls convulse around his fingers uncontrollably, which he holds in place until your tumultuous release fades to gentle ripples.
And when those, too, die down, he captures your lips in another greedy kiss.
“How’s that tension?” he asks with a sly grin.
“Hmm…” You hold a finger to your chin and pretend to think. “Better, but I think there’s still some left.”
Your eyes flick down to his pants, which do little to hide what kind of tension he might be feeling now, too.
“If you’re still up for helping me work it out, I mean,” you add, letting the rest of the sheet fall from your chest. He allows himself a brazen, longing glance at it before he stands back up and pulls his fingers out, making you jerk. 
“For such an important new client? Of course,” he hums. And like he just can’t help himself, he’s already slipping a thumb under the waistband of his pants. “If you could just get face-down again, ma’am.”
You giggle and flip back onto your stomach, tossing the rest of the sheet to the floor. Toji lets out a low whistle of appreciation when he finally sees you completely uncovered. 
“Goddamn,” he mutters. And that table proves just as sturdy as you imagined when it barely even jostles as he joins you on it, pushing your legs apart and settling between them on his knees. His hands roam across your body, drawing hard lines between your shoulders, down your back, up and across and around your ass. You turn your face to one side and rest it against the plush table, enjoying every movement of his skilled fingers.
“Goddamn, goddamn,” he repeats, just to really drive the point home. He keeps one hand on your ass while the other pulls itself away. A couple fingers slide up and down your slit, just long enough to make it tingle, and then…he’s lined up with your entrance. A wave of anticipation ripples through you, emerging only as a faint shiver.
“So. Here’s what we’re gonna do. I’m gonna push down and push in,” he says, palming the small of your back. “Still gotta work out those knots, after all.”
“Wow. Truly dedicated to your craft,” you snicker. 
“Like I said, I’m a professional. Now, breathe in…”
“Huh? Why?”
“Just do it. Breathe in…”
You look back at him with a raised brow, but you do as he says and take in a deep breath.
“And out…”
You breathe out a lot more quickly than you were planning to when you start feeling pressure everywhere. His thumbs are digging into your back, stroking it in even circles. But he’s pushing into you at the same time, filling you out slowly, completely. The arousal that’s practically pooled inside of you lets him slide in easily, but it still takes a second to adjust to his size. Your face falls back onto the crisp linen sheet beneath you, your eyes closing and your lips parting as you embrace that delectable fullness.
“Good?” he asks behind you once he’s fully buried in you, and one hand slides back down to grab your ass. 
“Very good,” you confirm.
You and Toji groan in tandem when he pulls his hips back, dragging himself slowly along your walls, and pushes back in. The moment you relax around him, he thrusts a little faster. And faster, and faster, and faster, until he has to secure a hold on your hips. 
What a pro, you think to yourself with a smirk. How did he know? How did he know this was just the pressure you needed?
“Just when I was starting to forget about you,” he growls, snapping back against your hips. He doesn’t spare a single inch every time he drives himself back into you. Your jostle forward and bunch what you can of the sheets between your trembling fingers. “I was just starting to forget you, and you had to go and waltz back into my life. That’s just like you.”
Your answer barely comes out as anything more than a few pathetic whimpers. “Then maybe this time—fuck—you shouldn’t—”
His fingers bury themselves in your hips.
“Let me—”
He leans forward until his chest meets your back, his hot breath tickling the nape of your neck. His rhythm starts to falter.
“Go.”
Your words must spark some new flame in him. Because he’s pounding into you mercilessly now, driving deep inside you and hitting that perfect spot again and again. You whimper, you mewl, you muffle your groans against the pillow, and your walls start to flutter around his cock.
“You think I’ll let you go now?” he snarls, a low, rumbling sound that reverberates through your skin. “No. Not now. Not when I’ve finally got you like I’ve always wanted you.”
He plants ravenous, messy kisses against your neck. His teeth graze your shoulder, threatening to clamp down and make good on his claim.
Shit. You’re getting close again. Your groans rise until he has to hold a hand against your mouth. 
And you know you should keep it down, lest you ruin this good job he’s landed for himself. But you can’t stop a wordless cry from trying to push its way through his palm when that tension shatters inside you again, releasing wave after wave of ecstasy. He shudders and hisses behind you, his hips snapping and jerking and stuttering until he pulls out of you. His release lands on your back a moment later.
For a few seconds, neither of you say anything or move a muscle. You simply soak in the afterglow six years in the making, your ragged breaths overpowering the soft, ambient music. Then Toji finally breaks the silence with a simple remark: 
“Fuck.”
“Fuck,” you agree.
You stay on your stomach, eyes closed, as he pushes himself off the massage table and pulls his pants back on. 
“Just a sec,” he mumbles. You simply nod, lying motionless where you are as he wipes his mess off your back. “And…hour’s almost up. I’d like to keep working out your knots all day, believe me, but I do have a client coming in.”
You blink your eyes back open. For a moment, you wonder if you should say what’s on your mind. If this one-time reunion should stay a one-time reunion. But with or against your better judgment, you decide to voice what you really want, instead.
“I’ll just have to come back for another session, then, right?”
You flip back over and sit up to find him already grinning at you.
“I was hoping you’d say that,” he chuckles as he finishes buckling his belt. He steps up to you and takes your face in his hands, rubbing a soothing thumb across your cheek. His eyes flick to your lips, and he steals one more long, hard, greedy kiss before he takes the dirty towel with him to the door. “...I’ll give you a minute to get dressed.”
When he shuts the door, you hop off the table onto shaky legs and fumble to put your clothes back on. You comb your fingers through your hair and adjust your skirt, ready to face the world after a truly satisfying…massage.
The manager’s still sitting at the front desk when you walk back into the waiting room. She looks up from her computer and greets you with a big smile.
“Wow, you look happy!” she pipes up. “I take it Toji took good care of you?”
“Yeah,” you say, hoisting your bag back onto your shoulder. Funny. He didn’t spend that much time on it, but it already feels so much lighter. “I feel great.”
Toji appears in the doorway, wiping his hands on a new towel, smirking at you and leaning against the frame.
“I’m so glad to hear that! So, did you want to—”
“Book her for next week,” Toji says so nonchalantly, like he’s just finished up an average session. The manager beams at you, clearly pleased that their center could make it up to you after their blunder today. Toji looks right at you, too, when he shares another note.
“She’s gonna be one of my regulars.”
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javierpena-inatacvest · 8 months
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Chapter 9: I Promise
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Summary: You agree to go to the Laredo Sheriff's Department's annual summer picnic. When Javi's co-workers bring up an unexpected topic of conversation, Javi begins to learn more about your life before Laredo.
Word Count: 11.5K (Is it bad I'm impressed with myself that this isn't longer?!)
Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (do better), shower sex, period sex, creampie, praise, masturbation (f), talk of drug use/overdose, grief/loss, PTSD (reader has a panic attack), drinking/alcohol (reader also gets a lil tipsy), mentions of food/eating, Javi's co-workers being assholes (not Carter and Miller, we love them), Javi being protective of you, Javi just wanting to give you every ounce of his love because he cares about you more than life itself
A/N: Okay y'all. I had to do it. I want nothing more for Osita and Javi to live in a world of sunshine and rainbows where they are nothing but happy all the time, but, sigh, that is not how life works. Osita's got some things Javi needs to learn about her past, and it's happening, whether we like it or not. This chapter really does have it all- pool parties, trauma, Jell-O shots, Javi talking about babies (I'm screaming too, it's okay), you name it, it's probably in there. Also, Osita's brother Patrick is inspired by sweet Frankie Morales from Triple Frontier because UGH. ALRIGHT, STRAP IN YOUR SEATBELTS AND ENJOY THE RIDE!!!
Series Masterlist Next Chapter Previous Chapter
“C’mon, Peña, you gotta come, you’re like, the only guy in our whole department who hasn’t RSVP’d yet.” 
“Seriously, man. It actually is a good time. Free food, free booze, hanging out at Morris’s pool all day? All the other guys bring their wives and girlfriends, too, so you can even bring your girl, if you want.” 
It had been almost two weeks since the flier for the annual Laredo Sheriff's Department Picnic landed on Javi’s desk. It had also been about two weeks that Agent Carter and Agent Miller had spent every day harassing Javi about coming to the party, claiming it to be one of their favorite days of the summer ever since they started working for the department a few years back. 
“Yeah? And who are you two idiots bringing?” Javi scoffed, shuffling through the folders on his desk as Carter and Miller leaned in the doorway to his office. 
“Low blow there, Peña, but okay.” Carter grimaced as he put his hands on his hips. “Listen, just think about it, okay? 
“Just RSVP before tomorrow or Barb is gonna lose her mind if she doesn’t know exactly how much Potato Salad to make. I told her that you’d tell her by then, and I don’t need another reason to be on her shitlist.” Javi and Carter shook their heads at Miller, not understanding how he was constantly finding ways to piss off the receptionists in the front office. 
“Fine. I’ll let her know by tomorrow.” Javi responded, not looking up from his paperwork. “Now, don’t you idiots have anything better to do than stand in my office?” 
Carter and Miller gave each other a quick high five, finally working at least a somewhat definitive answer out of their boss before they headed back to their desks, finally giving Javi a moment of peace. 
Javi sighed as he pulled the brightly colored flier out of his desk drawer, staring at it for a few seconds before setting it down on top of one of the manilla folders, running his hands through his hair. Social gatherings had never been his thing. To be honest, he really hated them. During his time in Colombia, the best he could normally muster was occasionally getting a drink at the bar, dreading the small talk, politics and ass kissing of every conversation. All he really wanted to do was sit by himself and drink enough to ease the pain and misery he felt with each day that passed in that God forsaken country. But he had to remind himself that this wasn’t Colombia anymore. His days of drowning his loneliness in liquor were behind him. Even when the sting of his time away haunted him, he had to remind himself of the life he now had in front of him. 
You. 
He had you. You had taken his world and turned it around. When he looked at you, he saw a life of everything he had ever wanted and never thought he’d have. You’d given him a chance at a future. If you’d asked him a little over a month and a half ago if he ever saw himself settling down, he would have probably laughed in your face. But now? The thought of you as his wife? A mom? To his children? A family that the two of you would build together? He’d marry you today and give you a football team’s worth of kids, if that’s what you wanted.
Fuck, he hoped that’s what you wanted. 
He would have let himself play out the rest of that fantasy in his head for as long as he could, if it wasn’t for the grumble in his stomach, loud enough to snap him out of his daydreaming. Javi looked up at the clock, realizing he had worked his way almost an hour past his lunch. Lately, he’d had the luxury of spending practically every night at your apartment, you insisting that you wake up with him every morning and make him breakfast and lunch before he went off to work.  Even though he had stayed over last night, he practically had to force you to stay in bed this morning, trying to tell him that your headache wasn’t even that bad after you practically winced in pain when he turned on the light to get himself ready. He’d promised you that he’d be just fine going out to get lunch today, and that he’d call during his break to check in on you. 
Pulling back up to the parking lot of the station after stopping at Alejandro’s Deli to pick up a sandwich (and extra chips and a cookie for you when he came home), Javi opened up his cell phone to call you, taking a bite of his lunch while the dial tone rang. 
“Hi, Jav.” Your voice instantly spreading a smile across his face. 
“Hey, Osita. You feelin’ any better?” 
“Yeah, a little I guess. I’m an idiot, I should have known this was gonna happen.” 
Javi scrunched his face in confusion. “What? How were you supposed to know you were gonna have a headache this morning?” 
“I uh…” You paused for a second, letting out a huff of nervous laughter. “I uh, I totally forgot I started my period today. I always get really bad headaches when they first start, and considering it happens every month, you’d think I’d remember, but apparently not. Makes sense why I cried at that commercial of the dog getting adopted yesterday.” You both laughed, it now making a lot more sense to Javi why you had seemed a little off the past few days. “I um… I know you were gonna come over after work today, but, um, don’t feel like you have to.” 
He paused, trying to read the tone in your voice. “What do you mean? Do you not want me to come over?” 
“No, I do, sorry, it’s just- If you’re weirded out by it cause you think it’s gross or whatever, I understand-” 
“Hermosa.” He interjected, cutting you off. 
“Yeah?” 
“It’s not gross, and I’m not weirded out by it. It’s totally normal, you don’t have to apologize for anything. I’m still planning on coming over tonight unless you tell me otherwise. I’ll pick up dinner and we can hang out and watch a movie together, sound good?” 
“O-okay.” He could practically hear the relief in your voice through the other end of the phone. 
“I gotta head back in to work, but I’ll call you when I’m leaving and you can tell me what you want for dinner and if you need me to pick anything else up for you, okay?” 
“Okay. Thanks, Javi. You’re the best. Have a good rest of your day. I love you.” 
“I love you too, Osita. Bye.” 
I love you. God, it never got old. 
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Knock, knock, knock. 
You were glad to hear the familiar tapping of Javi’s knuckles against your apartment door, the promise of his presence bringing you joy in what otherwise had been a pretty miserable day, considering how terrible you felt. 
“It’s unlocked!” You yelled from the couch, curled way too deep in your blanket with your heating pad to bother getting up. 
“Baby, you really shouldn’t leave the door unlocked, makes me nervous when you’re here all by yourself.” Javi grumbled, kicking off his shoes by the door before setting down all the things he was carrying in his hands on the kitchen table. 
“Sorry, Mr. Safety. You know I normally do, I really just didn’t want to get up if I didn’t have to.” You replied sheepishly. Even though he wouldn’t admit it out loud, it didn’t take you long to figure out that Javi was incredibly overprotective of you. He knew how stubborn you were, and that you were more than capable of taking care of yourself, but that didn’t stop him from double checking all the locks in your apartment before you went to bed, or making sure that you told him if you going out somewhere so he didn’t worry if he called your apartment and you didn’t pick up. Was it a little much? Yes. But did it absolutely melt your heart knowing he cared so much about you? Also yes. 
You popped your head over the couch to see Javi in the kitchen with 2 different grocery bags, a pizza, a McDonalds’ bag, and flowers. “Javi, what the hell did you get?” You laughed as he stood at the table, unpacking the items. 
“Well, I got two different types of tampons because I wasn’t sure which ones you prefer, a box of Midol, a Twix bar, chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream, a bag of potato chips- the wavy kind because apparently those ones taste better, pizza for us for dinner and McDonalds french fries for you, because even though you said you only wanted pizza on the phone, you still brought up the french fries like 4 goddamn times. And flowers, just because.” 
When Javi had called to tell you he was leaving work and asked what you wanted for dinner or if there was anything else he could pick up for you, your only answer was that you just wanted pizza and that maybe fries also sounded good, but not to worry about it. You hadn’t asked him to get you anything else, and yet, he showed up to your apartment with all of your favorite snacks, pain meds, flowers and tampons. It didn’t help that you were already emotional, feeling yourself on the brink of tears realizing just how much Javi cared about you. Jesus, this man was too good to you. 
“Jav, you didn’t have to get all this. Thank you. God, I love you.” 
“Of course, Hermosa. Anything you need, just let me know, okay? I love you, too. You hungry?” 
“Absolutely. Tell that to the sleeve of Oreos I already crushed earlier today.” You both snickered as Javi put away the rest of the groceries and changed out of his work clothes before bringing you both over a plate of pizza to the couch, yours with extra fries. “Thanks for still wanting to come over tonight.” You said gently, shuffling over to snuggle next to Javi on the couch, leaning against his shoulder as you took a bite of your dinner. 
“Osita, you don’t need to thank me. I just want to be here for you, whatever it is that you need. I just feel bad you have to go through all this shit.” 
“Just another one of the wonderful perks of being a woman!” You rolled your eyes, sarcastically, taking a bite of your fries. “To be honest, there is a tiny bit of me that was relieved today. Not that I don’t trust it or that I don’t take it religiously, but phew, my birth control has really been working overtime this past month, so I’m glad to know you didn't beat it. ” You both quietly laughed to yourselves, Javi swallowing before taking another bite of his pizza. He was quiet for a moment, but you could practically hear the wheels turning in his brain, like he was calculating his words before he spoke. Little did you know, at that moment, his head was flooded with his thoughts from earlier today, imagining the life you two could have together, if you’d let him. Maybe there was a subconscious part of his brain that wished he had beaten your birth control, because you were both a little unprepared for the next sentence that came stumbling out of his mouth. 
“Would you, uh, do you, um, not right now, but do you… Do you ever want kids?”  He looked down at the floor, taking a deep breath before turning back to you, anxiously waiting for your response. 
Oh fuck me. As if you weren’t already enough of a hormonal mess, the thought of Javi as a dad? Little baby Peñas? Oh God, you could practically feel your ovaries bursting at the seams. You’d be blatantly lying to yourself if you said you’d never thought about it, but hearing him be the first one to say it out loud? Oh boy. You fought with everything in you to not burst out in an ear to ear grin, trying to mentally compose yourself before answering the question. “Um, yeah, I do. I always have. Like you said, not right now, but yes. I- I do. Do you? Want kids?” You looked over at Javi, rubbing his hand against the back of his neck, his cheeks red and face flustered.  
“I um, I used to, before Lorraine and Colombia, and uh, those both kinda fucked me up for a while. I just kinda figured it wasn’t in the cards for me anymore.” His gaze shifted towards the ground again, staring there for a moment before shifting back to you, his sweet brown eyes locking with yours, the softest smile gently spreading across his lips. “I didn’t think I would anymore, but uh, things are… things are different now. I do, too. I definitely do.” 
“Okay. Good to know.” You didn’t even bother trying to hide your smile this time, the best you could do was bite down on your tongue inside your mouth to try and keep you from grinning like a complete idiot. You nestled closer into Javi, pressing your head against his chest, smirking to yourself at how fast you could feel his heart racing as you leaned into him. He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer, placing a long, soft kiss on the top of your head as you both sat there for a moment in blissful silence. 
“Sooooooo, what movie do you want to watch?” You asked, trying as hard as you could to not spontaneously combust from the conversation the two of you just had. 
“Your pick, Osita.” 
“Return of the Jedi?” You smirked, knowing how much Javi had been dying to watch it since you showed him The Empire Strikes Back a few weeks ago. 
“I was hoping that’d be the one you’d pick.” He got up excitedly, shuffling through the VHS tapes under your TV before pushing it into the VHS player and hitting play. He repositioned himself on the couch so you could lay your head down on his thigh as he rubbed your back. “So, don’t feel like you have to, but uh, the department is throwing their annual picnic thing next weekend. I’m not sure if I wanna go, but if I did, would you wanna come with me? Sounds like it’s kind of a big thing, Miller and Carter have been on my ass about it since I’m supposed to RSVP by tomorrow.” 
“Well number one, I think you should go, if Carter and Miller are being that big of a pain in the ass about it, it has to be at least a little fun, right? I’ve never met them, but from what you’ve told me, they seem like they enjoy having a good time. Number two, I would absolutely love to come with you. I think it would be really nice to meet your co-workers. Or I guess, technically re-meet some of them if they came to present at school before you did.” 
“You mean you didn’t purposely trip into them to get their attention, too?” He chuckled, thinking back to the first time you had met. 
“Oh shut up, I did not trip on purpose!” You playfully nudged the leg you were resting your head on. “I just happened to be very lucky that you were incredibly handsome and charming, and were nice enough not to let me fall and embarrass myself in front of the entire 3rd grade.” 
“Whatever you say, Osita.” 
“Oh just shhhh and watch the movie, you meanie.” 
About halfway through the film, belly full of pizza, french fries and half the Twix bar Javi had gotten you, you could feel yourself getting sleepy. You were now laying on top of Javi, your face on his chest and his arm on top of your back, fingers running back and forth across your shoulder blades. You felt so warm and comfortable pressed up against him, it wasn’t long before you could feel your lids beginning to droop, your blinks becoming slow and heavy before your eyes finally closed, shortly followed by the sounds of your soft snores against Javi’s chest. It had become very apparent to Javi that no matter what movie or TV show you picked to watch, if you were cuddled up against him, you were out like a light in no time. To be honest, he didn’t even care. There were few things in the world he loved more than you lying against him, falling asleep wrapped in his embrace. He truly hoped he’d get to spend the rest of his life explaining the second half of every movie you missed while you were fast asleep in his arms. 
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Mmmmmhmmmm, Javi… 
Oh, fuck, babyyyy 
It feels so good….
Ahhhhhhhh, please-
“Ahg! Fuck!” You shot up in your bed, grasping at your sheets, your breathing heavy and labored as your eyes sprung open, greeted by the darkness of your bedroom. You paused for a moment, grounding yourself, shaking your head as you scrunched your face tightly before opening your eyes once more, looking over to find Javi still sound asleep next to you. 
Fuck, it was a dream. A good one at that, holy shit. 
You ran your hands through your hair, taking a few more deep breaths as you found yourself now wide awake, and very horny. You peeked over at the alarm clock on your bedside table, finding that it was still a good thirty minutes before Javi usually got up for work. If you weren’t on your period, you probably would have just woken up Javi to help relieve how worked up you had gotten from your dream- It wouldn’t have been the first time, and he certainly wouldn’t have been mad about it. But this was the first time you had been on your period since you started dating him. For as amazing as he was, there was one fact that you weren’t going to put past him. He was still a guy. Every guy that you had dated before him had all felt the same, and you assumed he would too- That he would wait for your period to be finished before wanting anything to do with, well, down there. That left you with two choices. 
Be an absolute horny mess until he left for work and then take care of yourself, which would probably still be another 2 to 3 hours from now. 
Take an extra early shower and take care of yourself before he wakes up 
Yeah, it was gonna have to be option two. 
Very quietly sneaking yourself out of bed, praying that Javi didn’t wake up for at least a little while longer, you tiptoed out of the bedroom, gently closing the bathroom door behind you as you turned on the shower. Besides it being fairly spacious for an apartment, another huge perk of your bathroom was the detachable shower head installed in your shower. Considering how much fun you and Javi have had together in the past month and a half, it had been a while since it had been put to use for its non-intended purposes. Once the water was warm enough, you stepped over the ledge of the tub, giving yourself a quick rinse before grabbing the shower head off the wall and bringing it between your legs. The jets of warm water splashing against your already throbbing clit were enough to at least start to ease some of the ache that was pooling in between your thighs, even though you desperately wished it was Javi who was helping you to relieve your neediness. You closed your eyes, reaching back for the memory of your dream that had woken you up just a few minutes ago, picturing Javi bending you over your couch as he plowed into you, over and over. You began to fidget the shower head in your hand, the water spraying back and forth against your sensitive nerves, feeling the heat begin to pool in your belly. 
“Mhmmmm, fuck, Javi…” You whispered to yourself, the image of him fucking you deeply and intensely overtaking your brain. You could feel yourself edging closer to you high, your breathing becoming deeper as you imagined him whispering those filthy, sweet nothings into your ear that he knew made you absolutely crumble. You were so consumed by the thought, that you hadn’t heard Javi get out of bed, had definitely not heard him as he opened the bathroom door, and were absolutely unaware of the fact he was now also wide awake and coming to check on why you were showering at 6:00 AM. 
“Hey, baby, is everything o- Oh.” He stopped himself midway through opening the shower curtain, realizing what he had just walked in on. 
“AH, Jesus Christ, Javi!” You screeched, dropping the shower head to the ground as you grabbed at the cool tiles of your shower wall to try and keep you from falling over. “Fuck, you scared the shit out of me!” You panted, trying to catch your breath, scrambling to put the shower head back up in its rightful position. 
“Sorry, I uh, I woke up and saw you weren’t in bed and heard the shower on, I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” His face now a mixture of confusion and suspicion. 
“No, yeah, um, I’m fine, just um, you know, just, uh…” 
Think you idiot, think! You have to at least try to come up with a reason before you die of embarrassment.  
“Baby, it’s okay, talk to me. What’s going on?” Those stupid puppy dog eyes. When he looked at you like he was right now, no secret was going to be left untold. 
“Fuck. No, I’m fine, it’s just…. Fuck this is so embarrassing. I just, I had this dream and I woke up really horny, but I knew you weren’t gonna wanna do anything because I was on my period so I figured that-” 
“Hermosa…” He chuckled, taking off his boxers and tossing them on the floor before stepping into the shower with you. “When I told you if you needed anything, I meant it. This included.” He stepped closer to you, reaching down to grab your ass and nip at your neck leaving you stunned, trying to think of what to say next. 
“But, it’s just that, I just figured… Every other guy I’ve been with-” He placed a long, hot kiss on your neck before mouthing at your jaw, and whispering in your ear, the rasp of his voice making you shutter. 
“Well I’m not every other guy you’ve been with, am I? If you want it, sweet girl, you’ll get it. All you have to do is ask.” His hand snaked down your front, reaching under to rub his fingers against your already painfully sensitive clit, as you let out a pitiful whimper. 
“Javi…” 
“Just ask, baby. Ask me and I’ll give it to you.” He began to trace his fingers in slow, lazy circles around your mound, savoring every second of how already worked up you were. 
“Javi, I want you to fuck me. Please I want you to fuck me so bad.” You burried your head into the crook of Javi’s shoulder as you moaned. 
“There you go, Osita. That’s all you had to do. Hands on the wall, pretty girl.” You quickly complied, turning around so your arms pressed up against the tile, your back arched towards Javi as the warm spray of the shower hit your body. Javi stood behind you, one hand resting on your hip as he used his feet to nudge your legs open just a little further, the other stroking himself before feeling his tip slide against your folds. “Jesus, fuck me, you’re already so wet, Hermosa. What were you dreaming about that’s got you so worked up, huh?” He groaned, collecting your juices along his cock as he traced his length along your heat. 
“You, Javi. Fuck, I dreamed that you were fucking me and bending me over the couch, God, it felt so good.” You babbled, your brain short circuiting as he continued to run up and down you, your cunt clenching around nothing as you desperately waited for him to fill you. 
“Christ, Osita. Gonna have to save that one for later, aren’t we? How do you want it, baby? Wanna make sure you feel good.” He nipped at your shoulder as you could feel him lining himself up with your entrance. 
“Hard. Fuck, I want you to fuck me so hard, please.” You were almost on your knees begging at this point, you needed him so badly. 
“You sure that’s what you want, sweet girl?” You could practically hear the smirk in his voice as he finally pushed into you, taking you no time to adjust to his size with how worked up you already were. You finally felt him bottom out, his pelvis pressed against your ass, as he waited for you to respond. 
“Yes, yes, I need you Javi, I need you so bad.” Those were the last words you could find before you felt him pull all the way out before pounding back into you, making you cry out as you felt him brush against your cervix, every inch of him splitting you open. He quickly set his pace, fast and deep as he snapped into, each thrust making you whimper from the sweet stretch of how he filled you. The walls of the bathroom were rapidly covered with the obscene sounds of your moans and skin smacking against each other, drowning out the noise of the running water from the shower head above you. 
“Is this what you want, baby? Taking my dick like the good girl you are, letting me fuck you like this?” He gritted his words through his teeth as he rammed into you at a punishing pace, leaving you an absolute mess. His fingertips dug further into the soft flesh of your hips before freeing one of his hands to wrap around your front, thumbing at your clit. 
“Javiiiii, yes, fuckkkk, fuck.” You whined. The way he was pounding into you was making your vision go white, leaving you barely hanging by a thread as he wrapped his hand around your chest, pulling you to stand as he palmed at your breast. You could feel the tingle at the base of your spine building, your pussy beginning to flutter as his fingers ran faster and faster over your clit, his cock driving into, filling you completely. You could feel your legs begin to shake as sweet nothings fell from your lips, falling apart underneath him. “Fuck, Javi, I’m gonna, Ohmygodohmygodahhhhhhh.” You screamed out as you came undone, hitting your high with a rush of pleasure, Javi’s grasp around you the only thing keeping you from falling to the shower floor. With only a few more thrusts deep inside you, Javi followed suit, grunting as he spilled deep inside you, his cock pulsing as his seed covered every inch of your walls. Catching his breath, he slowly pulled out of you, as you gasped at the loss, legs shaking as Javi released his grasp around you. 
“Jesus fucking Christ.” You swallowed as you sat down on the edge of the tub, laughing to yourself. “You fucked me so good I don’t think my legs work anymore.” Javi joined in your laugher, extending out his hand to pull you back up to stand, cupping your face as he engulfed you in a deep, tender kiss. 
“Then my work here is done.” 
He winked at you as you rolled your eyes and playfully poked at his chest before he was peppering your wet body with the soft sweet pecks of his lips, spending the rest of your shower in a much better mood than when you entered it. 
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 “Are you sure people are actually wearing bathing suits to this thing, or am I gonna show up looking like an idiot?” You shouted from your bedroom at Javi, who had been waiting for you in the kitchen after packing up the pasta salad you had offered to bring to the Sheriff’s Department Picnic today. 
“Yes, Hermosa, I’m sure. It says it on the flier- pool party, bring a swimsuit. I’m also in my bathing suit as we speak, so I can guarantee you will not be the only one there in one.” He laughed to himself as he leaned up against the kitchen counter, arms crossed over his chest. 
“Well that’s different, you just look like you’re wearing shorts and a T-shirt. I swear, guys have it so easy” You grumbled to yourself, finally deciding on a bikini before throwing it on and slipping on a coverup as you headed down the hallway. “You ready?” You asked, grabbing the bag of towels you had packed by the front door. 
“Really? I don’t get to see before we leave?” He raised an eyebrow at you, seeming disappointed by the coverup you had put on over your swimsuit. 
“Yes, really. We’re already 45 minutes late after you spilled all of our breakfast on the floor after deciding you needed to fuck me on the kitchen counter this morning. Knowing you, Javi, we’re gonna be another 45 minutes late if you see me in this bathing suit before we leave. Let’s go, you horn dog.” You laughed as you shook your head, grabbing your things as you opened the door to leave. 
“I didn’t hear you complaining… And we’d only be another 10 minutes late, I could make it fast.” He winked, grabbing the cooler he’d packed before locking and closing your apartment door behind you. 
From the amount of cars lining the street leading up to the Morris household where the annual picnic was being hosted, you were convinced you could have shown up 2 hours late and no one would have noticed. The impressive house was nestled on a corner lot at the end of the subdivision street, lined with other large homes in the newly built neighborhood. You and Javi were both relieved to find that the beverage cooler was one of the first things you found as you walked on to the large lot behind the house, already bustling with people, music blasting from the speakers by the pool. 
“Jesus, they weren’t kidding when they said this was a big deal, huh?” You looked up at Javi as he handed you one of the beers he had grabbed. 
“Fuck, I guess not.” He grimaced, taking a sip of his own drink before an older, broadly built man with salt and pepper hair approached Javi, outstretching his hand towards him. 
“Peña, good to see you. Glad you could make it.” You had a feeling it was Dean Morris, Javi’s boss and the host of the party, based on what Javi had told you about him, though his face looked semi-familiar to you. 
“Thanks for the invite. Beautiful house. Uh, Morris, this is my girlfriend-” Morris cut Javi off before he could finish the rest of his sentence, re-extending his hand out to you as you reciprocated. 
“Ah yes, I believe we’ve actually met before. I think I’ve had the pleasure of already meeting you one of the times the department had to come down to Alma Pierce. That’s a tough gig, if I do say so myself. Hard to keep those kids focused.” The wires clicked in your brain, remembering that Morris was the one who had made 80 3rd graders cry after talking about watching people get murdered by the cartel during his presentation. You politely smiled, pulling away from his handshake. 
“Yeah, it definitely is a lot of work to keep their attention. Thank God for summer vacation.” 
“Well, I definitely would have paid a lot more attention in school if a pretty lady like you would have been my teacher. Bet those little boys love being in your class. And their dads, too. Isn’t that right, Peña?” He let out a harsh and brash laugh, taking a hand and patting it on Javi’s back. “Daniels, you old bastard, is that you?” He shouted at one of the newcomers entering the party. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a buddy who just showed up whose balls I need to bust.” He nodded to both of you as he sauntered off, leaving Javi with a horrified look on his face. 
“Well, he seems absolutely charming.” You grimaced your face before taking another, much longer sip of your beer. 
“Jesus, Osita, I’m so sorry. I should have said something, he’s my boss and I-” 
“What are you talking about? I love when men do that to me.” Your voiced oozed with sarcasm, absolutely hating everything about how so many men felt entitled to degrade you about your profession as a backhanded compliment to try and tell you that you were attractive. 
“You get that a lot?” Javi’s face now looking more concerned. 
“Way more than you’d think was socially acceptable. Not the first time I’ve heard it, and to be quite honest with you, I’m sure it won’t be the last today.” You rolled your eyes, taking another long swig of your drink as you watched Javi’s jaw clench, his thumb rubbing along the tops of his fingers as they balled up in a fist. 
“Listen, if if any of these other bastards try to say shit to you, I have no problem putting them in their fucking place.” 
Your face went flush as you felt your heart pound a little heavier in your chest. You’d really have no problem handling yourself in telling any man to kindly fuck off if they were bothering you, but something about the way Javi’s protective instincts seemed to kick into overdrive had you feeling hot and bothered. 
“Cool your jets, killer. I’m a big girl, I can handle myself. I’ll be sure to let you know if I need you to put anyone in their place.” You giggled, mocking him as you pressed up on to your tiptoes to give him a quick kiss. 
“I know you can, Osita, just- some of the guys I work with are assholes who have no interest in being respectful. You absolutely are fucking sexy as hell, but you’re smart and funny and kind and you deserve to be treated that way.” He looked out around the crowd of people in the backyard before looking back down at you, sympathetically. 
“Thanks, Javi. I promise, I’ll be okay. The hockey player in me has no problem picking a fight if I need to.” You nudged Javi as you continued to walk further into the crowd. As you looked over the sea of people, you noticed two men frantically waving at Javi over by the pool, the taller, lankier one giving Javi an overexaggerated thumbs up as he looked in your direction, the shorter, stockier man next to him looking like he was rapidly nodding in agreement. 
“Looks like you’ve got a little fan club over there.” You laughed, giving a big thumbs up back to the two as Javi palmed his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. 
“Jesus fucking Christ…” He whispered to himself as he saw Carter and Miller trying to flag him down in the crowd. 
“Carter and Miller?” You asked, still laughing at the pair and Javi’s embarrassment as he nodded his head. “Well, too late to escape now, let’s go say hi. At least that way we can be by the pool.” You grabbed Javi’s hand as you headed through the crowd. 
“Peña! So glad you came, man! We were hoping we’d see you! This your girl?” Carter smirked, raising his eyebrows at Javi as he gestured towards you. 
“I’ve actually never met him before, he’s kidnapping me and holding me at ransom to come to his party. No, I’m just kidding, yes, I am. It’s nice to meet you both, Javi’s told me a lot about you.” You smiled, reaching out to shake both of their hands as they laughed. 
“She’s fuckin’ funny, Peña. I already like her more than you.” You laughed as Miller elbowed Carter in the gut, causing him to drop his beer, spilling it down his shirt as it fell to the ground. 
“Way to go, ya fuckin’ doofus.” Carter groaned, peeling off his shirt. “I’m gettin’ the fuckin’ pool and then you’re getting me a new beer.” 
You were relieved to see that there were actually a fair amount of people in the pool, and it wasn’t a pool party where everyone stood awkwardly around the edge of the water without actually ever getting in. “Hey, I have to go drop off this pasta salad anyways, why don’t I grab you another one and then I’m about to get in the pool too. I love the heat but it feels like the surface of the sun out here. Does that work, Jav?” You asked, setting down your things before striping yourself of your coverup, revealing the light green, strappy bikini you had on underneath. You weren’t someone who was usually overconfident in themselves, but you did know that this particular bathing suit made you feel pretty damn good. As the 3 men turned around in response, Javi’s jaw just about dropped to the ground as he saw your swimsuit. “Javi?” You asked again, looking back up and the 3 who were all speechless, staring at you. 
“Uh, yeah, yeah, that sounds great, Hermosa.” Javi responded, his mouth still hanging slightly open as he looked you up and down. 
You grabbed the pasta salad from the cooler, walking over to Javi and giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before whispering in his ear. “Told you we would have been another 45 minutes late if you saw me before you left. Keep it in your pants, Peña, we’ve got a long day ahead of us.” You gave his earlobe a quick nip before pulling away, giving him a wink as you walked over to the other end of the pool to set down your food. 
“Fuck me.” Javi muttered under his breath, eyes glued to you as you walked away. 
Javi turned behind him to see Miller and Carter quite literally biting their tongues, taking every ounce of willpower they had stored inside them to not ogle at you as you walked away. 
“I’ll say it once and then I’ll shut up about it, I promise, so please don’t kill me, but Jesus Christ, Peña, you are one lucky man.” Miller looked at Javi as Carter nodded rapidly in agreement. 
At that moment, Javi wasn’t even mad, because those two idiots were absolutely right. He was a lucky man, indeed. 
You were glad to see that Javi, Carter and Miller were already in the pool when you returned, your arms full of 4 beers and 4 Jell-O shots sitting on top of them. You tossed the drinks to each of the boys before sliding off the ledge into the water to join them. “I don’t know who Kevin is, but he very adamantly insisted that I take all of these Jell-O shots. The Laredo Sheriff's Department definitely seems like they enjoy having a good time.” You laughed as you popped the lid off your little container, slurping down the mixture and grimacing at the terrible vodka aftertaste it left behind. “Jesus, these are strong.” 
“Told you it was fun!” Miller said, motioning at you for one of the Jell-O shots. He took his, also scrunching his face after. “Yeah, knowing Kevin these must be double, probably triple the normal strength.” Carter followed suit, as you passed off the last one to Javi. 
“I’m good, Osita.” Javi smiled at you as he held up his beer. 
“You sure?” You gestured at him, waving the little plastic container at his face. 
“Yes, I’m sure. I told you I’d drive home. Either way, those look fucking disgusting. Plus, I have yet to see you drunk and was promised some obnoxious singing after you’ve had enough to drink.” He leaned over, kissing you on the head before you stepped back crossing your arms at him. 
“Only if you’re lucky, Peña.” You winked as you slurped down his Jell-O shot, sticking out your tongue in disgust after you finished. “Uck, I think that one was worse than the first.” 
It didn’t take long for you to make good on your promise of a drunken sing-alongs to Javi, already feeling decently intoxicated after your two beers and Jell-O shots. You were all giggles and smiles, feeling especially flirty Javi considering how hot he looked, all tanned and toned, the broadness of his shirtless shoulders practically taking you out at the sight of them. Javi was glad he was sober enough to keep his composure with the way you were dancing around him, seeming like you were finding any excuse to touch him and drive him absolutely crazy. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t fill him with a little sense of pride, that even as his co-workers stared at you long enough for Javi to shoot them a very subtle I swear if you keep looking at her like that, I’ll kill you look, you still looked at him like he was the only one there at that party, like there was no one else in the world you’d rather be with than him. After one of the speakers had finished blaring “Tubthumping”, who you had drunkley insisted to Javi was sung by “The Chub Chubs”, making you crack up in hysterics every time you said the name, you hopped out of the pool, telling Javi you were going to piss your pants if you didn’t go pee right this second. Javi insisted that he go with you to help you find the bathroom, not because you weren’t more than capable of doing it on your own, but because he didn’t trust a single one of any of his fucking co-workers with the way they had been looking at you, who were now equally, if not more drunk than you were. 
Javi wrapped you up in your towel before taking your hand and leading you through the crowded patio and into the house, where you found the bathroom, tucked around the corner of the kitchen. “I’ll wait right here for you, okay?” He said, giving you a sweet smile as you opened the door. 
“You better be, you’re not allowed to disappear on me, or I will be very sad that I don’t get to stare at your handsome face the rest of the night.” You crossed your arms at him, poking his bare chest as you giggled to yourself. 
“Go pee, you dork.” He laughed as he shook his head, gently pushing you into the bathroom, very amused by your drunken state. 
As he closed the door behind you, he couldn’t help but keep laughing to himself as he listened to you singing along to “Wannabe” by the Spice Girls over the sound of you flushing the toilet, now pressing his ear against the door as he heard you talking to yourself as you washed your hands. 
“You know what I wanna be?” You pointed to yourself in the mirror, giggling at yourself as you wiped your hands on the towel hanging by the sink. “I wanna be Javi’s wife. Oh my GOD, I love him so much. I wanna have that man’s babies, cause ho-ly shit. Jesus, he’s gonna be such a hot dad. Like, the kind of dad that comes in a parent teacher conferences and all the teachers go that's a hot dad, and I can be like, he's my hot dad. Wait, not like my- ew not like my father, that's not what I meant, but you know, you're the one talking to yourself. Okay, pull it together ya drunk ass, that’s a long way off, but a girl can dream. Go get back out there and find your sexy ass boyfriend, dummy.”
That was the second time today Javi found himself with his jaw practically on the floor, trying his best to compose himself as you stumbled out the doorway. “What are you smiling at?” You raised an eyebrow at Javi, leaning against the doorframe, cheeks red and grin wide. 
“You have a good talk in there, Osita?” He smirked as you stood there in shock, just about ready to die from embarrassment. 
“Did… did you hear what I said in there? Please tell me you didn’t hear what I said in there. Oh my god, oh my god, oh my goddddd.” You buried your face in your hands, unable to bring yourself to even look at Javi. 
“You really think about all that stuff, hermosa? All that stuff you said?” Even with your hands covering your painfully scrunched face, you could feel his sweet brown eyes practically burning a hole into you, leaving all of your secrets exposed. 
“Of course I do. All the time. I know I’m drunk, but my pants are not on fire because I am not lying. And I’m not even wearing any pants. Wait, that doesn’t make sense…” drunkenly lost in thought, Javi reached down, grabbing a handful of your ass before tilting his chin up towards you, his thumb stroking along the line of your jaw. 
“Jesus Christ, I love you so fucking much, you know that?” 
“I do, because you tell me all the time and I love you very, very, very, very lots of verys much too.” You giggled, smiling up at him. He leaned into you, planting a soft kiss on your lips, his mouth sweet and tender against yours as they met. He grabbed your hand, locking his fingers between yours as he led you back through the house, his eyes glued on you as you shuffled your way through the crowd. 
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“Peña, I was hoping I’d see you again!” Javi stopped abruptly as a large hand grasped around his shoulder, making him turn around to see the group of men standing around the kitchen table you were just about to pass. Morris’s gruff voice had you both freezing in your tracks, already bracing yourself for whatever stupid, inappropriate comment he had up his sleeve. “Listen, I was hoping to talk to you about something, just the two of us. Do you have a few?” 
Javi looked at you with remorse, knowing there was really no polite way to say no to his boss who was already practically dragging him away from you. “Uh, yeah, sure.” Javi replied. “Just if it could be quick, okay? I don’t, I don’t wanna leave her here all by herself.” He gestured, nodding his head in your direction. 
“I won’t take up too much of your time, I wouldn’t wanna be away from such a pretty woman for too long either. Besides, she’s in good hands with these fine gentlemen, right boys?” He looked at the rest of the men still gathered around the kitchen table. You could almost feel Javi burning a hole with his eyes into each one of them, giving a look that said, you say or do anything stupid and I’ll fucking end you. It seemed everyone at the table picked up on the message as Javi gave you one last sympathetic smile before Morris dragged him away into the living room. 
“So, you Peña’s girl?” One of the dark haired men asked, taking a sip of his drink. 
“Uh, yeah, I am. It’s nice to meet all of you!” You tried to muster some courage, looking at the group of men now staring at you, feeling drastically more sober from the awkwardly uncomfortable circumstances you now found yourself in. 
“I’m Hernandez,” the man pointed at himself, “that’s Callahan,” he pointed at a taller, blonde man, “this is Richards,” a stockier man waved at you, “and this is Estrada.” Another dark haired man raised his drink at you as you tried to smile, waving back at them. You introduced yourself, the men silently laughing to themselves, as Hernandez spoke again. “Almost couldn’t fucking believe it when we found out Peña had a girlfriend, never though I’d live to see the day, that’s for fucking sure.” 
You pretended to laugh along with them, not really sure what he meant by the comment, but definitely knowing it didn’t make you feel great. “So um, what do you think Morris is talking to him about?” You asked, trying to see if the group had any insight why Javi’s boss was so insistent on speaking with him. 
“Oh, Mexico, 100%.” Estrada responded quickly, the other men nodding in agreement. “Gettin’ so fuckin’ bad down there, Morris has been on the phone with the DEA every other fuckin’ day trying to get Peña to go.” 
You could instantly feel your heart sink to the bottom of your stomach. They wanted to send Javi down to Mexico? They couldn’t just do that, right? There was no way he would go back to something like that, would he? 
“Fuckin’ DEA big shot Peña, Morris trusts him because of all the shit in Colombia. I heard it’s a goddamn mess across the border and they’re starting to get desperate.” 
“Couldn’t pay me enough money in the fucking world to go back to doing that shit, but I don’t know, sounds like Peña’s done enough fucked up shit to last him a lifetime, so what’s a little more, right?” 
It was like you had become invisible, the way they were talking about Javi in front of you. What the hell were they talking about? What had he done that was so bad? Was he ever planning on telling you? You could feel how fast your heart was pounding, your palms beginning to sweat as panic crept through you. 
“Someone’s gotta fucking do it. Richards and I were running the numbers the other day and the amount of coke they’ve got coming across the border now is fucking insane.” Callahan shook his head, setting his now empty beer bottle on the table amongst the large pile that had seemed to accumulate between them. 
“Listen, you guys already know how I feel about this shit.” Hernandez sighed, shaking his head. “The cartel is obviously a fucking problem, but it wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t for all the dumbass crackheads out there snortin’ this shit off the streets like it’s no one’s business.” 
Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no. Your hands began to tremble, your mouth painfully dry as you tried to swallow, frantically looking around for Javi, desperate to find a way out of this conversation as you felt your anxiety skyrocket. You knew where this conversation was going. You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t go through another conversation like this. Not again. Your brain was flashing images in your head as you heard your ears begin to ring, everything around you feeling like it was moving in slow motion. 
“He’s got a fuckin’ point. There wouldn’t be such a market for it if people weren’t so desperate to get their hands on it. Don’t these dumb motherfuckers realize how stupid they have to be to use that shit?” The men all laughed, their smug looks burning a hole in your chest as you felt your throat tighten with each breath. You tried with everything you had in you to fight the tears welling in your eyes, praying they’d stop or that you could find some way out of the conversation before you collapsed over the brink of full blown panic. 
“It is sad, the death count from that shit’s higher than it's ever been.” Richards chimed in, trying to bring some rationale to the discussion. 
“Honestly,” Hernandez spoke, breaking from his laughter, taking a swig of his beer, “and I hate to fucking say it, I do, but if these junkie bastards know better, it’s what they fuckin’ deserve.” 
That was it. Your brain snapped, sending you into full blown distress as you felt like the room was collapsing in on you. You could feel your heartbeat in your throat, pounding in your ears, as your body went numb, taking every ounce of strength in you not to fall to the floor in full blown hysterics. You couldn’t listen to this conversation anymore, not able to wait however long it would take for Javi to come back, you made up some half coherent excuse to the group that you needed to go get something from the car, desperate for someplace alone, away from everyone. You stumbled through the crowded house through the front door, trying so desperately to pull yourself together until you were back outside, away from anyone’s concerned looks and questioning glances. As you stepped off the front porch, the concrete sidewalk pinching against your bare feet and hot Texas sun pounding down on your skin, you burst into tears. Each sob was painful, your chest tightening with every breath you took as your mind raced at a million miles per minute. 
It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t deserve it. You tried so hard to help him. Was it my fault? Did I not do enough? Where’s Javi’s car? Where’s Javi? Please don’t let Javi leave. He can’t leave. I can’t do it again, I can’t do it, please, fuck, I can’t do it. 
Some way or another, you had managed to make it down the street to Javi’s truck, desperately shaking at the locked door handles before falling to the ground, legs curled up against your chest in a ball as you leaned against his tire, letting your fear and panic consume you whole. 
Back inside, Javi had finished his conversation with Morris, frustrated and annoyed he had taken up so much of his time with something he had absolutely no interest in. As he got back to the table where you were supposed to be, his defenses went up instantly, trying to find you. “Where the fuck is she?” Javi demanded, looking at the group of men talking amongst themselves at the table. 
“What?” Hernandez asked, barely looking at Javi. 
“My girlfriend, you fucker, where the hell is she?” 
“Jesus, calm down Peña. I don’t know, she said something about going out to the car.” Hernandez turned back to face the rest of his friends as Javi began storming his way through the party, pushing past people as he bursted through the front door, practically running down the street towards his car. His heart stopped when he found you, curled on the ground in a sobbing heap against his truck. In an instant, he was on the ground with you, wrapping his arms as tightly as he could around you, his heart racing almost as fast as yours. 
“Baby, what’s wrong? Osita, talk to me, are you okay? What happened?” His words were desperate and frantic as they fell from his lips, pulling you tighter in his embrace as you tried so hard to catch your breath, to get even just one word out as you sobbed against the soft skin of his chest. “Breathe baby, just breathe. It’s okay, I’m here. I’m here.” He took his hand, cradling the back of your head as he pulled you closer, the presence of his touch helping your mind to slow down for a moment, trying your best to stop your shallow, shaky breathing. “There you go, Osita. It’s okay, baby, deep breaths. Just breathe, I promise I’m right here, it’s okay.” You could feel him trying to slow down his own breathing, taking long, deep inhales and exhales as you rested against him, your face wet and messy buried in the crook of his neck as he held you. 
He’s here. Javi’s right here. He’s here.  
You repeated the words over and over again in your brain until you could feel the strain in your chest begin to ease, forcing yourself to take one deep breath after another, slowly starting to find relief from the panic that was flowing through you. Javi said nothing, just holding you as he breathed with you, squeezing you as hard as he could, like he was afraid if he let go, you would float away. After a few more minutes, you finally lifted your head off Javi’s chest, your eyes red and puffy as your cheeks glistened from the wet flow of your tears. Javi cusped your face so gently, his brown doe eyes heartbroken as he looked at the state of pain and fear he had found you in. “Baby, are you okay?” His words were shaky too, like he was pleading for something, anything, to know that you were alright. You bit down hard on your bottom lip, gulping down the tears you still were fighting against as you slowly nodded your head. “Osita, please talk to me. Please.” 
You weren’t even sure if you were going to be able to form a coherent thought. Tears streamed back down your face, your lips quivering and hands shaking as the wall that separated Javi from what you were about to tell him came crumbling down. It felt like your brain was short circuiting, your words beginning to flow out of you like a faucet who couldn’t be turned off. 
“They said, they said, they wanted you to go to Mexico. To go back like you did in Colombia, because of how bad things were there. But you can’t go back Javi, please I can’t lose you, I can’t lose someone again. It was like they were blaming him, like it was all his fault, it wasn’t his fault, it was my fault, I did everything I could, but he came back and he wasn’t the same. Please, Javi, you can’t go, I can’t do it again, I can’t do it, I can’t watch someone I love leave and come back a different person and let it ruin their life. Please Javi, you can’t leave me like Patrick, I can’t do it again.” 
Oh. Oh, Fuck.  
You fell back into Javi’s arms as the thoughts in your brain kept flowing from your mouth, sobbing between each sentence pressed against the tear stained skin of his chest. 
“I tried to do everything I could. When he came back from his second tour in Iraq he wasn’t the same. He couldn’t talk about what he’d seen or what he’d done. I knew he was hurting so bad. I came home one day and I saw him doing coke on the bathroom sink, and he swore to me he would stop and get help if I didn’t tell anyone. He said he just needed something to help him forget. I kept my promise. I didn’t tell anyone. Not my brothers, not my parents. I drove him to NA meetings, I tried to find him rehabs but he wouldn’t fucking stop. I just wanted him to stop. I just wanted my brother back. I finally had to say something, I had to tell my family because I couldn’t do it anymore. He found out and we got into such a big fight, we yelled and screamed at each other and I told him I hated him. I told him I hated him for what he’d done. I hated him because he wasn’t the brother I had before. I hated him because he wouldn’t stop. And that was the last thing I ever said to him. His friends found him in his apartment the next morning. He overdosed. He was just gone. It was like he just disappeared. I can’t have you disappear, Javi. I can’t. Please. I can’t.” 
Javi sat there silently as you sobbed in his arms. There were no words he could think of that could help. Nothing that he could say or do that could even attempt to patch the gushing wound that you had just ripped open for him. You had left yourself out in the open, bleeding and exposed as he sat there, helpless. He wished he could do something, anything, to take away just an ounce of the hurt and the pain you felt. But for now, all he could do was hold you, let you cry. Be there for you as you let the tears of pain and grief and hurt release from your body. The next words that came out of his mouth weren’t the words he should have said, but the only ones his brain could muster. “Baby… Why didn’t… Why didn’t you tell me?” 
You looked up at him, your eyes begging for forgiveness through their red and swollen tears. “I couldn’t, Javi, how could I? It’s your job. You’ve spent your whole life fighting to stop what happened to my brother. And now he’s gone. There’s nothing that you could have done. There’s nothing anyone like you could have done. It’s the fucking truth and it sucks. How am I supposed to let you live with that? I can’t be the one to add anymore to what you’ve been through. It’s my fault. It’s my fault that he’s gone. I tried so hard. I tried so hard, Javi. I’m so sorry, Javi, I’m so sorry, please don’t be mad at me.” 
He could practically feel his heart break in two seeing you hurt so badly. It broke him to see you blame yourself, to think you tried to hide this part of your life away to keep him safe. He hugged you so tightly, like he was trying to free you from the pain you had carried, make you feel safe and loved and to know that he meant it. He grabbed your face, using his thumb to wipe your tears, praying that you believed what he had to say. “It wasn’t your fault. Baby, please, it wasn’t. You did everything you could. I could never be mad at you. I’m so sorry, Osita. I love you. I love you so much. I’m not leaving. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll fucking quit before they make me go back. I’m not leaving you.” 
“You promise?” 
“Of course I do. I promise.” 
You let him hold you for just a few moments longer, saying nothing as you sat in the silence of his promise. You knew he meant it. You had never trusted someone like you had trusted him. In his words, in his eyes, in the way he held you like nothing else in the world mattered except for you. You knew Javier Peña meant every last word. You knew he’d keep his promise. 
You sat up a little taller, wiping your face with the back of your hand, trying to compose yourself, terrified to see the snotty, wet mess you’d become. “I don’t um… I don’t really wanna go back to the party, if that’s okay.” You spoke, words embarrassed and shaky as you stared sheepishly at the ground. Javi shook his head, only laughing to himself out of pure shock. 
“Osita, you were thinking about trying to go back there? Baby, I’m taking you home. Whatever you need, I’m yours.” His words made you shed a few more tears, this time a small smile spreading across your face as he helped you up off the ground, pulling you in for a long, tight hug, resting his nose among the soft waves of your hair. 
“Javi?” You whispered against the warmth of his chest. 
“Yes, Osita?”  
“Can we get ice cream on the way home?” 
“Of course, Hermosa. Of course we can get ice cream. I’ll drive you all the way back to Chicago for ice cream, if that’s what you need.” You let out a soft giggle as you hugged him just a little tighter before pulling away to look up at him. 
“Texas ice cream will do just fine.” 
“I’m gonna go grab our stuff and then we can head out okay? Are you gonna be okay waiting by the truck?” 
“I’ll be okay. Thanks, Jav.” He gave you a quick kiss on the head before running back to the house, returning quickly with your bags as he unlocked the door and helped you up into his truck. You sat in silence on the drive to Eva’s, one of your favorite ice cream places Javi had taken you to, ever since he had made good on his claim that they did, in fact, have the best cookies and cream ice cream you’d ever have. After ordering for the both of you, Javi brought your ice creams over to your favorite spot, a little park bench that sat in front of the small creek that ran behind the building. 
“Cookies and cream for you.” He said, handing you over your ice cream. “Chocolate and sprinkles for me.” He finished, sitting down next to you on the bench as you laughed to yourself. “If you’re gonna say something, just say it, Osita.” He smirked, knowing exactly what was on your mind. 
“I can’t believe that you try to deny that you have the biggest sweet tooth out of anyone I’ve ever met. Sprinkles?” You looked over at his cone, snickering at the little rainbow flecks covering the ice cream. 
“Whatever.” He smiled, taking a big lick out of his cone as he put his arm on the back of the bench, draping it over your shoulder. He paused as he looked over at you, just staring at your ice cream, lost in your own thoughts. “Hey.” He whispered gently, causing you to shift your gaze up at him. “I know it hurts. It never stops hurting, even when people tell you it should. We don’t have to talk about it anymore right now, but if you ever want to, I’m here okay?” You nodded, wiping away the tears welling behind your eyes. 
“Okay.” You sat there for another moment after finally taking a lick of your cookies and cream, watching the sun glisten along the babble of the creek ahead of you. “Can we talk about something else?” 
“Of course. What do you want to talk about?” Javi ran his thumb back and forth against your arm, drawing circles on your soft skin. 
“Anything. Literally anything.” You shook your head, trying to force yourself to let out a small huff of laughter. 
Javi grinned, taking another lick of his ice cream before he spoke. “I’m glad you made good on your drunk sing-along promise today. You’re right, it’s even worse than normal.” You let out a genuine laugh, nudging him as you finally let a smile creep across your face. 
“I tried to warn you. I blame those Jell-O shots.” You shrugged, rolling your eyes at Javi. 
“It was cute. Almost as good as your bathroom pep talk.” He chuckled as you looked at him in confusion. 
“What are you talking about?” You asked, taking another lick around the base of the cone to keep it from dripping. 
“Do you really not remember? I took you in to use the bathroom and you were talking to yourself in the mirror when you were washing your hands?” 
“What are you talking about? I don’t- OH. OH NO. I’m so sorry, I was really drunk. You were not supposed to hear that. How did you hear that?!” You could feel how hot your face was as your cheeks turned bright red, burying your head in the free hand you weren’t using to hold your ice cream. 
“You were practically yelling to yourself in the bathroom, Hermosa.” Javi chuckled, biting down on his lip. “Do you remember what you said?” 
“Of course I remember, why do you think I’m so embarrassed?” You replied, scrunching your face, looking down at the ground. 
“Why are you so embarrassed, Osita?” You looked up at him, surprised by how genuine he was, his voice soft and sweet, a smile peeking out of the corner of his lips. 
“Because… Because I shouldn’t have just, like, said that out loud. I don’t… I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable if you heard me say things that I want and you don’t. It was stupid, I’m sorry.” You looked back down at the ground, wishing you could repeatedly kick your past drunken self for letting Javi hear your rambles.  
“It’s not stupid. I want those things, too. God, I want those things, too.” 
You raised your head back up as Javi rubbed his hand along your back, making heat creep through your face, blushing, as you felt a smile stretch from one side of your face to another.  You ran your tongue along the top of your teeth as you took a deep breath in, exhaling and leaning your head against Javi’s shoulder. 
“You promise?” Your voice was low and quiet, almost soft enough to have gone unnoticed if he hadn’t been listening. Soft enough to have gone unanswered if what he had said wasn’t really true. 
“I promise.” 
You sat there quietly, the promise of his words dancing in the air between you. There were few people in this world that you trusted. It hadn’t taken long for Javier Peña to come into your life and become the one person in this world you now trusted the most. He had made you a promise- and you knew damn well that he’d keep it. 
Taglist: @harriedandharassed @cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413
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busycloudy · 6 months
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hii if that's okay can I take a coffee mixed with tea with a muffin and a dragon? Thank you so much in advance!!! (ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*:・゚✧
A Comforting Dragon
Coffee + Tea(Comfort) Muffin(They walk in to see you crying) Dragon Lollipop(Malleus Draconia)
A/N: Hello Lilian! Sorry if this is ooc, I haven't really wrote for Malleus yet! I do hope you still enjoy this!
You slammed your room door in Ramshackle shut. The dorm shook. You hopped onto your bed and laid there, just staring at the ceiling.
Today was a frustrating day. You were on your last straw, but even that had been taken from you.
You had the worst headache ever after taking care of the first years and making sure Grim didn't burn anything. Grim had nearly burned your whole dorm down a few minutes ago actually. Then Crowley had sent you to do some things, and now you have to study and do some homework.
You did not have the energy to do that right now. All you wanted to do was relax for once. But then again, everything was due tomorrow. "Better do it now then...." You mumbled, grabbing the papers.
You took a seat back in your bed, looking at a sheet of paper. Your frowned. You read it again. "What?" You read it another time. This made no sense. No matter how many times you read it, it didn't make any sense. "Ugh, I'll just move on to the next paper" You muttered.
You moved on to the next paper. Still, it made absolutely no sense. You moved on to the next one, and next thing you know you're back at the first paper after looking through all of the papers. Nothing made sense right now.
All you wanted to do was cry with how frustrated you were now. Nothing made sense, but they were due tomorrow. What the hell were you supposed to do? All this frustration was starting to get to you.
You started to think about everything that has happened to you every since you came here. One thought only lead more. You couldn't stop thinking.
A salty tear rolled down your cheek. One tear turned into more. Your thoughts started consuming your head.
Time started passing. Maybe minutes later you heard your door open. You looked up, wiping your tears. "Oh.. hey Tsunotarou..." You sniffles. Malleus then had a bit of a frown, and you could hear lighting strike.
Malleus then walked over to you, sitting beside you on your bed. "My love, what happened?" He said, a worried look on his face.
You just sniffled. "Nothing... " You muttered. "Do know you can speak freely with me" Malleus reassured you. " You don't have to talk if you don't want to, but now I'll always comfort you and be by your side" He sympathetically smiled.
You gave in. Telling him your frustration about all the work, and how thoughts started going through your mind. How ever since you had arrived here it had felt like hell. Sure, there were good moments! But those bad moments made everything shit.
Malleus comforted you while you said this. Staying quiet, and letting you talk. He rubbed your back to try and calm you.
You finished talking, then looking at him. "I.. I'm sorry. I'm probably just overreacting..." You wiped your tears. "Dearest, your not overreacting. I'm glad you decided to tell me this. I'll help you if needed" Malleus answered. You shook your head "Please do" You sniffled. "Anything for you, my treasure"
Malleus would help you live in this world. He'd help you every step of the way. No matter the cost. As long as you're happy.
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hangesdarling · 1 month
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Idea! Hange who finds out her rival in the scouts is actually just a massive bottom
rivals, right? — h. zoë
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PAIRING. Hange Zoë x female reader SYNOPSIS. You and your rival Hange were forced to sleep in one tent for an expedition. CONTENT. 18+, MDNI, nipple sucking, fingering, oral sex, a bit slow burn WORD COUNT. 2.1k A/N. sorry anon i missed the part where they're scouts :") they're both section commanders on this one though. hope that's alright!
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"I'm not sleeping with you," you groaned, the irritation sharp enough to cut through the night. 
"You make it sound weird when we're just sleeping in one tent," Hange said with an amused laugh, padding up the tent floor with a few blankets so it wouldn't be too rocky to lie down on. 
So annoying, you might be thinking. Hange always acts coy, teasing even as if your constant clash and rivalry were an amusement of some sort. Years of training and expeditions, even as scouts, Hange always managed to be linked with you. Both were labeled the smartest, both became section commanders at the same time, and both were considered respectable researchers. Your titles always one up with the other, a tight competition you never seemed to have an agreement on. 
"Ugh, why is it always with you?" You mumbled behind the notebook you're scribbling on. It was loud enough to reach Hange's ears. 
"Sorry, dear. Every tent is occupied," they said simply. Hange placed two makeshift pillows, peeking over the tent as if waiting for you to come inside. You glanced in their direction but turned away almost instantly. 
"I'll be out here for a while," you muttered, focused on scribbling on your notes. Hange looked over your shoulder in curiosity, crawling beside you. 
"Observations, huh?" Hange remarked, pushing their glasses up so their eyes could follow your scribbles. 
You blushed at being observed, quickly hiding the notes you were writing. 
"Nah, just listing why my research is more relevant than yours," you saved yourself from awkwardness, pulling a smug smile. 
Hange laughed, tilting their head almost mockingly. "That's kinda pathetic, don't you think?" 
"Heh, not when I get those two titans for my experiment," you replied, lips curling into a smirk. 
Ah, so damn stubborn, Hange thought. They shook their head lightly, still amused by how you managed to pull this stubborn behavior with them for years. You're typically kind and soft-spoken with other scouts, an authority to be respected, not feared. But Hange finds it almost ridiculous when you both act like bickering children around each other. 
"Would it kill you to share a titan with me? Besides, Erwin said we only get to capture one titan each."
"Out of all people, you should know that won't be enough," you replied. The situation you're both in just hardens your stubbornness. How could humanity thrive and gain knowledge when research is always limited? Tight budget, the shitty authority; Survey Corps never seems to run out of problems. 
"Well, we have to work with our limited resources, you know," Hange explained. "We're not supported enough in terms of this. Our supplies are insufficient. That's probably why we're sharing a tent."
"I'll do something about that," you mumbled like a steadfast promise. "Just go to sleep for now."
Hange looks at you for a while, perhaps in admiration or judgment. But in any way, they see the reflection of their resolve. 
"You should sleep too. It would be a long day tomorrow. Good night, Y/N."
Do something about it, huh? Hange slept with that curious thought, wondering what risky method would you try to pull in the next few days. 
---
Being outside the walls stopped feeling new after your tenth or fifteenth expedition. As a scout, you always have some sort of fear just from the countless tales of unsuccessful expeditions and a tower of dead bodies after one. 
 But now, you managed to expertly map through the routes outside just from memory. Where titans roam the least or the best view to watch over their behavior. 
You were sitting atop a branch of a large tree, binoculars in hand, and planning where to stage the capture. Your mind went through the manpower and equipment sent with you outside, wincing at the fact that the capture could be dangerous. Hange managed to develop a catching net some months ago, ensuring a safe capture. However, with the tight route and a precarious amount of titan, you doubt that this capture would be entirely safe. 
From another tree, Hange was watching titans, observing how slow they usually walk without bait. They are focusing. Supposedly. 
But now and then, their binoculars would travel over where you sat, the lenses perfectly capturing your distress at the current conundrum. 
No sooner, you felt another presence at the tree—Hange's familiar footsteps, careful to reach you on that wide branch. 
"You're worrying about the route, isn't it?" you heard them whisper behind you as you lowered your own binoculars. 
"Not just that," you sighed defeatedly, head on your hands. "I was thinking that two titans really wouldn't be enough for us even if we shared."
You handed Hange your notebook much to their surprise. They flipped over the pages, gaining an understanding of your concerns. Your desired experiment might be ambitious and idealistic but it would be helpful if you succeeded. But with resources so limited and countless lives to take into consideration, how would you able to do this?
Hange sat beside you, still thumbing over some pages. Even if you're turning your face away, Hange could tell you were trying hard not to tear up from the frustration and possibility of loss. This was important for you after all. They've watched you study, observe, and create all of these for over a year. 
They placed a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it lightly before saying, "We could do something about this, you know that. Come with me."
----
"Why do you always kick your blanket off when you sleep?" Hange asked curiously one night in the tent. 
"No, I don't."
"Yes, you do! I had to tuck it beneath your feet at least three times last night," Hange argued. 
"My, don't bother with it..." You brushed it off, turning away from them to hide your face. You tried to trace back since when Hange Zoë's relationship with you became so casual, almost friendly. If your mind wanders far enough, you might consider something else happening. Affection, maybe. But you shrugged all those thoughts off, reminding yourself that the plan you agreed on was purely for science and the advancement of humanity. 
"But you're weak to coldness," Hange continued, covering you in several layers of blanket, ignoring the pout on your lips. They had a grin on their face when they said, "Don't want my research partner getting sick, do I?"
"We're not research partners," you frowned.
"Eh, why not? I just told you my whole plan and you agreed with it."
"Doesn't mean we're partners from now on."
"God, you're one stubborn lady," Hange chuckled, a sigh escaping their lips. They pulled their blankets over them, slowly dozing off. Outside, the night was filled with the gentle chirps of crickets, chorusing at one point. Even with such proximity, you could feel Hange's warmth, their gentle breathing only conveyed that they must also be awake. 
---
The next morning, you and Hange's plan set into motion, traps were located strategically in a different route. Both of you were taking full liability for what would happen in the days to come, informing the soldiers about the need to capture four titans to sufficiently conduct the research. It wasn't the safest plan, some were hesitant but many trusted your scheme since all of you share a common goal. 
You commander your unit, imparting knowledge of the best actions to take. But for the remaining hours, your eyes remained on your notebook, pretending to check details to reach the optimum result. However, Hange knew you had an entirely different reason. Maybe to interact less with them, afraid they would bring up how you two ended up tangled in each other's arms last night.
---
"I'm just letting you know that won't happen again," you said flatly, eyes boring upwards through the tent as you lay down. 
Hange turned their head to you, their lips forming into a subtle smirk once more. "What is?"
"Um, last night..." you said in a low voice. 
"Ah, you mean when you're hugging me so tightly?" Hange asked smugly. 
You bit your lip, trying to save yourself from this. "I was asleep. Not responsible for my actions, but forgive me for disturbing your sleep."
Much to your surprise, Hange hovered over you, their deep brown eyes glinting almost knowingly against the dark space inside. The atmosphere thickened, your heart ramming louder than the sounds of night. 
"No need to apologize for anything, sweetheart," they whispered, their eyes following your lips the way your eyes do for them. In that heated moment, all that you've both held in flooded out like a dam breaking and gushing to spill over. Hange placed a firm hand on your shoulder, keeping you pinned on the blankets as their lips met yours. It was a firm kiss, your lips nearly melting into each other's. Your hands traveled on Hange's hair where you tug and pull them closer. Hange sat you up in their lap, gaining better access of your neck and chest. Their hands snaked under your clothes as they ask for permission to go further each time to which you only nod. 
"If you want to have me so bad, you shouldn't have spent years being annoying," you muttered into the kiss. 
"Says the one who wouldn't let go of me last night," Hange smirked, a thumb circling your clothed breasts. "Besides, you should've picked up on it early on. You're so smart after all."
"You know, you look more attractive when you shut up," you muttered as you fell on top of Hange. Their flushed face look at you expectantly, expecting you would dominate this whole ordeal. After all, they saw you in that dominant, commanding light after years of leadership. 
But Hange noticed how flustered you were just from being on top of them. Your thighs kept straddled on their lap, your hands resting on their shoulder, not knowing where to hold on. Hange smirked, taking it as a sign to flip you over once more. Their breath was warm against your ear as they whispered, "It's okay, Y/N. Let me do it for you."
Hange locked your lips in a kiss once more, bundling your shirt on your chest. Their lips slithered from your lips down to your throat, reaching the trail between your breasts. They kept one firm hand on your wrist as their tongue gently circled one of your nipples, sucking their lips on the hardened bud.
Hange covered your mouth before you let out high-pitched noises from the sensation. 
"Shhhh... You don't want your subordinates to hear you, right?" They smiled against the darkness. 
The night was slow and heated as you let Hange do wonders with their mouth and fingers, always managing to draw out a soundless moan from you. Your lips could only part, your hands clenching around their body. They were amused to see you follow along and nod with their wishes, so compliant with their charm.
Hange had the button of your blouse open, your breasts spilling out into their face and the warm flesh of your stomach open for their wet kisses. 
"You know," Hange began, drawing their fingers in and out of you at a teasingly, slow pace. "I didn't expect this much submission from you."
"Shut up, Hange..." you breathed out, a hand over your eyes as you were beginning to write against their fingers. Hange held down your hip, tugging your pants a bit more so they could have more access to you.
"As you wish, m'lady," Hange placed a kiss on your clit before gently lapping up the warm wetness gathering on your slit.
Hange kept on until the faint light of dawn slitted through your tent. You forgot just how much stamina they had to draw one orgasm after another from you. They only stopped when you've whined and writhed enough under them, pleading for a break. Hange fixed up your clothes, smoothed out your hair, and drew the blanket over you again as if nothing happened. Their wet lips kissed you once more as they said, "You still have a few hours to sleep. Sleep tight, sweetheart."
---
The capture will take place during the afternoon. The equipment was set, and the soldiers were preparing their ODM gear for however long the capture may last. 
The scouts passed by, even some of your friends, noticing the slight shift of the atmosphere but couldn't quite put it into words. Maybe this time their section commanders weren't bickering as usual. They went with that fresh start in high spirits,  brushing off their suspicions whenever they saw Hange place an arm around your waist or whisper something to make you laugh or blush. Your unit didn't think much of it, even attributing it as a minor hallucination or a ripple in the universe. There's no way their section commanders are getting affectionate.
After all, you're rivals, right?
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likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated, sweethearts <3
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corpsebasil · 1 year
Text
Bonnie and Clyde Part 2
Ghostface’s girlfriend may not be a killer, but she’s the brain of the operation.
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You lay on the couch, your feet propped against the cushions as you stare at the tv, scrolling through Hulu. You’d never felt so bored in your life. It felt like you’d been on house arrest the past few days. The only time you could leave was between one to four am and even then, Wayne wouldn’t let you do anything but walk around the block.
The front door opened with a rustling noise and you groaned, moving to prop yourself up on your elbow. Ethan entered the apartment, grocery bags on his arms, and gave you a smile as he moved to set the bags down in the kitchen.
“Ethan,” you called out, standing up and following him. “Ethan I cant take this anymore.”
“Take what?” He asked, oblivious to your frustration.
“I feel like a prisoner.” You scoffed, moving around the counter to help him put up groceries. “I swear to god I’m going to lose my mind.”
“This was your idea.” He pointed out, raising a brow. “How are you supposed to be dead if they see you out walking around?”
“But how much longer?” You whined, dropping your head on his shoulder. “I want in on the action.”
“No.” Ethan scoffed, pulling away from you to put a bottle of wine in the fridge. “There’s no way I’m letting you anywhere near a knife. Or a Ghostface costume.”
“So Quinn gets one but I don’t?”
“You were the one who said you didn’t want to kill.” Ethan sighed, turning to rest his back against the counter. “Now you’ve changed your mind?”
“I would recreate Saw if it meant I could leave this fucking apartment.”
Ethan laughed and moved towards you, pressing a kiss against your mouth. Then another, then another as you clutched his shirt, holding him to you.
"Relax, okay?" He murmured, biting your bottom lip before he pulled away. "Listen, I'll talk to my dad. You know how he is. But you're the one who's coming up with all the ideas—we can’t risk you.” Then he laughed. “I’m pretty sure Richie would come back from the dead and beat my ass if you got hurt.”
"Just because I'm smart doesn't mean I want to be holed up." You argued, glaring at him. “It was my idea for Richie to get with Sam. Mine. I’m the one that found her in Modesto. I’m the one who convinced Amber to join in. Don’t you think I can handle this?”
“I’m not saying you can’t.” He said, frustrated. “I’m just saying you’re more useful as the mastermind behind this whole thing.” He tilted his head, smirking. “Besides. You look so much prettier without a knife in you. Sam seems pretty hell-bent on killing us all.”
“Ugh.” You groaned. You went to the couch and flopped down on it.
“The theater shit is happening tomorrow.” Ethan said, walking over to run a hand down your leg. “It’s almost over, okay?”
“I want in, E.” You said, glaring up at him. “I’m tired of waiting for—”
The front door opened and you sat up, staring as Wayne and Quinn entered, a Domino’s pizza box in Wayne’s hands. Quinn immediately rushed over to you and you barely had time to screech before she was pouncing, laughing as the two of you fell off the couch and onto the livingroom floor.
“Bitch!” You gasped, laughing as the two of you rolled a couple of inches and Quinn pinned you, a satisfied smile on her face.
“Someone promised me they’d have a Stab marathon.” She said, raising a brow at you. “For inspo. Pizza and a movie?” She wiggled her eyebrows. You rolled your eyes but grinned.
“Fine. Fine. Get off me.” You said, sitting up as Wayne brought the pizza into the Livingroom.
"Stop harassing Y/N." Wayne scolded, passing you a plate as Ethan moved to sit on the ground next to you, immediately pulling you onto his lap.
"She doesn't look bothered." Quinn said, sending you a teasing smile as she got herself a slice and turned on the tv. You stuck your tongue out at her, wiggling in Ethan's lap as his arms looped around your middle.
"Stop moving like that." Ethan murmured, nipping the top of your ear as you squeaked. Quinn made a retching sound as Wayne valiantly ignored you, preferring to watch the intro to Stab over watching his son get handsy. "What's your favorite scary movie, Y/N?"
"You two make me sick." Quinn grumbled, and you laughed.
-
The next night you sat on Ethan's bed as he got dressed, shoving the Ghostface costume into his backpack. He was about to leave to join up with the Core Four, a term that you secretly loathed.
"You sure I can't come?" You asked, pouting as you watched him get his stuff together. "It would be funny. The big reveal."
"If something goes wrong you can keep up the act." Ethan said, moving over to drop a kiss onto your head. "Someone has to make sure we win this time. If we don't come back, you'll say we kidnapped you or something."
"That sounds like the lamest alibi ever." You scoffed. "Kidnapped? Really?"
"Well I don't know, maybe you were kidnapped."
"I practically roleplayed as a human bowling ball when you threw me at Tara."
"You're a talented actress."
"I want to go."
"No."
"Ethan."
"Y/N."
You stared each other down for a moment, his dark expression matching your own, before he pulled his knife out of his backpack and moved closer to you. You ignored the flutter in your stomach at the wicked gleam in his eyes. He grabbed your waist, pulling you closer, before he slowly lifted his hand to run the tip of his knife across your cheek.
"You're staying here." He murmured, brown eyes fixed on the tip of the blade as he moved it to rest on your bottom lip. The blade was cold and, when your tongue darted out to lick the dangerous point, Ethan's eyes narrowed. "You're just as sadistic as me, you know that?" He asked, putting his knife away as you grinned. "Fucking love you."
"Love you." You breathed back, kissing him hard until a knock hit the door and Quinn said it was time to go. "Fuck em' up, baby." You said, kissing Ethan one last time before he grabbed his bag and left for the theater.
So you sat on the couch when they left, bidding them happy hunting, and scrolled through your phone. And you waited, all night, for Ethan to come home.
BOOYAAA part THREE
tags
@tsukilover11 @user27017201172 @nellyboosworld @gcldtom @xyzstar @iheartemmaroberts @heart-an0n @sadieswifenocaplol @laylasbunbunny @isaidoop @marijulila @just-here-to-read-fanfictions @pumpk1n-writes @burningfanflowercash
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