#In hindsight there are a lot of words on here that are probably not needed

[strawbeerossi]

Trapped In A SUV

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Unit Chief!Spencer Reid

Description: Whenever you and Spencer are on the way to investigate the house of a suspected unsub, the SUV breaks down in the middle of nowhere. It’s a shame that you are both practically cooking in the Texas heat.

Content/Warnings: Case matter but nothing specific, extreme heat, undressing, Spencer is a bit of a pervert, car sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex.

Word Count: 1.6K

Kinktober Day Thirteen: Car Sex

Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3

The sound of the engine completely blowing out had you groaning softly as the smoke was coming from the hood of the car. In hindsight, you two probably shouldn’t have left in such a hurry in the first car you could get your hands on. However with a search warrant to search the house of a suspected unsub who you’ve been hunting for days, there was no time to waste.

Until you were stuck on the side of the road, your hand shielding your eyes from the harsh sun as Spencer tugged open the SUV’s hood to be met with a black cloud of smoke. “Jesus,” He muttered, using his hand to waft away the evidence of a vehicle that needed urgent repair. “We are stuck here until someone can pick us up.” You filled in the unit chief as you frowned softly. “Emily said that they had a lead when I was texting her. They will be here whenever they can get here..”

“Of course. That’s just our luck isn’t it.” The male pursed his lips as he pushed the hood shut. “We should get back in the car before we melt out here.” You commented, already feeling beads of sweat forming from the blistering heat. 

“We won’t melt but it’s a good idea. The engine isn’t too far gone to the point we won’t have AC. I’m trying to avoid a heat stroke.” Spencer spoke while heading to the drivers side while you had returned to the passenger seat. The blow of the air wasn’t as strong as you preferred it to be but you counted your blessings, you could’ve been stranded and left to cook in the heat.

“Well. I guess you and I are on our own.” He murmured, his gaze on you while his eyes were widening as he watched you work to unbutton your shirt. “What? I’m sweating my ass off. It’s not like I’m getting completely naked.” You stated, now moving to shrug the button up off of your shoulders and tossing it to the side. “You’ve seen a woman in a bra, I’m sure.” You muttered while leaning back against the seat. 

His golden eyes were focused on your chest once your eyes were closing, the swell of your breasts being eye-catching in the black bra. It was like they were threatening to spill over the lace. His cheeks were bright red as he noticed a bead of sweat trail down your chest as it rose and fell steadily from your breathing.

He could feel his pants tighten, constricting his hardening cock as he gazed at your body. As he was so focused though, he hadn’t noticed your eyes opening or the fact that he caught you. The hungry look on his face had you intrigued. You didn’t expect for him to be watching you so intently, to have to look as if he was holding himself back from touching your bare skin. “Would you mind if I took my pants off too? I’m burning up here.” 

“W-what? I mean, if it’ll be comfortable go ahead..” His voice was at a higher pitch, feeling caught as he was bringing his hands up to loosen his tie. 

“You know that you can shed some clothes too, right? I highly doubt the team will judge us.” You suggested, biting back a smirk of amusement while Spencer was letting out a squeak in response. “I don’t know.” He began, his own body going against him as his hands were moving to undo the buttons on his shirt. Waiting for the rest of the team was gonna be fun, at least. 

After both of you were stripped down, it was like Spencer was desperately avoiding your gaze, his face cherry red. This was a lot. He wasn’t actually thinking that anything but embarrassment would come out of even attempting to look at your body again. You obviously caught him staring.

You’d turned up the air the best you could, leaning forward. With a moan of satisfaction at the coolness hitting your skin, you turned your head to face Spencer for a reaction. His body was frozen in place as he kept his gaze out the windshield, the smoke coming out of the hood less than it was earlier. The moan was enough to make him shift uncomfortably from his throbbing cock in his pants. 

“Hey,” You began while leaning over the console separating you both, offering a smile. “What are you thinking about?” You mused, knowing all too well what you were doing as you were squeezing your arms together slightly, making your tits push up in the bra you had on. 

“I-I was just thinking of how, uh, hot it is outside.” And here. Jesus. 

“You’re so red, oh, Spence..” You gave a faux pout while bringing a hand up to pat his cheek, thumb running over his skin. Spencer felt like he was going to have a heart attack. This was a lot to handle and you seemed to be eating up every reaction. “I’m fine..” He spoke softly while leaning into your touch.

What happened next happened in a flash, you pushed yourself over the small barrier between you both before you were settled in his lap. The man’s face was red, eyes widened and mouth agape in shock as your clothed cunt was brushing over the very obvious bulge in his underwear. 

“I knew it! You were looking at me!” You laughed in victory, hands moving to rest against his shoulders once his long arm was scrambling to push the car seat back to make sure that you were comfortable without having to be shoved against the steering wheel.

“Can you blame me? You practically got naked without needing any prompting.” Spencer found his voice again as he was bringing his hands to rest against your hips, thumbs running over your soft skin. “Plus.. You look so gorgeous, I can’t help it.” 

“Spencer.” You gush, nudging his shoulder while you offer a smile. It was your turn to feel your cheeks heat up from the compliment. “”Well.. I can assist you with getting rid of your… Issue.” You wiggled your eyebrows while moving to test the waters of rolling your hips against his, his breath hitching as he let his head tilt against the leather seat. “God, yeah, okay. I’ll bite. Help me out here.” He chuckled, his hands squeezing your hips while you leaned down to press your lips against his in a soft kiss. 

As your lips were slotting against one another, Spencer was in a frenzy to get your panties pulled to the side before letting his finger swipe through your folds and brush against your clit, grinning at the gasp muffled into his mouth. You were pulling from the kiss to lift your hips, using your hands to squeeze the tent in his boxers to elicit a groan before getting his cock out of his boxers. “I hate to rush this but I don’t think I can wait any longer.” The both of you were in agreement as Spencer’s hands were grabbing a handful of your ass before you were aligning his swollen tip with your leaking cunt and sinking yourself down.

Both of your groans mixed in the SUV, your ass hitting the front of his thighs as you gave yourself a moment to get adjusted. You could feel every curve, every vein as your cunt was welcoming the intrusion. Letting your hips roll at a slow pace, you were bringing your hands to grip his shoulders. 

“Does it feel good? Bet you’ve wanted to do this for years. You like fucking your boss while on the job?” Spencer’s words caused a moan to rip from your throat. “What about you? Fucking your subordinate because you couldn’t keep your eyes to yourself?” You spoke back while Spencer chuckled. “You had your tits out, I’m a man. We are pretty notorious to have an attraction to the female physique.” He chuckled.

“Fair enough,” you spoke softly while continuing with your movements, getting into a good rhythm that was eventually disturbed by the male thrusting upwards, your pussy swallowing his thick cock with no issue. 

“Fuck, don’t stop.” You cursed, the windows fogging over from the actions inside as a thin layer of sweat was spreading over both of your bodies, the smell of sex starting to fill the SUV, the vehicle rocking at a steady pace as you both were wrapped up in your rendezvous.

As you fucked like rabbits, you were leaning down to press your lips against his once more. You never thought of having sex with him in a car before, mainly because you always believed it would’ve been different. Maybe after being put together in the same hotel room or the both of you letting out pent up stress in Spencer’s office.

“I’m gonna cum.” Spencer warned, voice husky as he let out a deep groan at the way your velvety walls were clenching around him, his cock twitching inside of you. “Ah!” He panted, a bruising grip on your hips as he roughly thrusted upwards, damn near making your head hit the roof of the car. 

The sheer force behind each thrust was enough to have your body trembling, your head falling onto his shoulder as you let out a soft cry of his name, teeth biting down onto his shoulder as your creamy cum was rolling down his cock. He wasn’t deterred, instead now groaning as he couldn’t help but follow right behind. You could feel his cum gush inside of your cunt, eyes fluttering shut as you clutched his shoulders as your partially clothed bodies were pressed against one another’s while coming down from the high of your mixed orgasms. 

“I guess I should probably get off of you, huh?” Your words were slurred while Spencer let your hand gently rub your back. “Not yet..” He chuckled, pointing the air vents towards the both of you.

“We have a little bit. Let’s just enjoy the air.”

[stevesgother]

Savior Complex - S.H

Paring - Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

WC - 1.9k

Warnings - Blood. Mention of vomit. Partial nudity. Let me know if I missed anything!

Authors note - This is my first fic...ever. Constructive criticism always welcome but pls be nice. Takes place directly after the events of S3. Hurt/comfort, angst, acknowledging Steve’s trauma bc damn.

Summary: ANGST, hurt/comfort, happy ending but not a lot of resolution, friends to ? lovers? idk its up to you!

Inspired by my favorite poem of all time, that has always reminded me a little bit of Steve.

“In this space right here that we have made for each other, you can say anything and I will not abandon you. Unwrap the worst things you have done. Watch me hold them up to the light and not even flinch”

The air inside Steve’s car was heavy with tension and the thick July heat.

You sat parked in his driveway, the rest of The Party having dispersed to their own homes; their parents waiting for them with open arms and misty eyes. 

Not you. 

And Certainly not Steve Harrington.

You and Steve weren’t what you would call “close”. Until now, that is. Shared trauma tends to have that effect. He knew you had a tumultuous relationship with your parents, and it didn’t take much deducing to realize his parents weren’t in the picture. Barely in Indiana, let alone spending anything close to quality time with their only son.

The idea of spending the last few hours of this nightmarishly long day in his big, empty house was sounding lovelier by the minute. On the grounds that it ‘wasn’t safe to be alone right now’. You didn’t read too much into it; he was right, after all. Part of you wonders if he just didn’t want to be alone. Sluggish, and noticeably more bloodied than you, Steve made his way to the front door with you in tow. His house was silent; eerily so. Everything pristine and well manicured, as if no one lived there at all. 

“There’s a guest bedroom upstairs, and a bathroom down the hall, to the right. Towels in the cabinet next to the shower.” He doesn’t even look at you as he says it. You try not to feel like you’re burdening him, blaming his avoidance on the exhaustion and not the unwelcome presence of you in his home.

“What about you?”

“What about me?” He finally meets your gaze. The shiner he sports on his left eye is still swollen, but less so. The front of his sailor suit you once thought so endearing, is now stained with blood and vomit.

“You’re bleeding.” You say quietly. “You have -” you wince, “- open wounds on your face Steve. Probably a concussion too and that’s if we’re being modest.”

He wears a tight-lipped expression you can’t quite read. You can tell he’s frustrated, and his exhaustion is bone deep. It nags at your heart. Maybe that’s why you don’t just drop it when he answers you.

“Not my first rodeo, I’ll be fine just-” He pauses, “go shower, and get some rest. God knows this shit won’t just be over come tomorrow.”

You take a tentative step forward. “Please just…just let me help. I can disinfect the cuts around your eye. I was a girl scout! Though in hindsight I realize how useless that sounds and-” you’re rambling now; nervous.

“Stop.” You’re taken aback slightly by his tone, you haven’t known Steve to act hostile. Not in a long time. “I don’t need your help, and I certainly don’t need your pity.”

“It’s not ‘pity’ Steve! Why is it so hard for you to believe someone might want to help you?” You take a step forward from where you stand a few feet from him. You reach up to touch his forehead with the hope of better assessing his injuries.

‘Enough!” He swats your hand away, “God, I should’ve never offered for you to stay here. You think you’re some type of savior, but you’re not.”

His words feel like a knife to the chest. You knew what he was trying to do, you knew he didn’t really mean the things he said. Not when he’s like this. For the first time since you arrived tonight, you thought of how many times he’s had to come back to this empty, soulless house all alone. Damaged, emotionally and physically. Wounds he’s had to patch alone. No gentle caress of another’s hands. Just the stinging of antiseptic in his nostrils, and the heaviness of everyone he’s ever loved abandoning him.

“You don’t mean that.” You say, shaking your head in a disbelieving way.

He laughs, humorless, “Yes I do. I really, really do.” A bitter sharpness to his words. It burns like liquor washing down your throat. “Go.” 

“No!” Now you’re the one raising your voice. “Being stubborn is for when someone is haggling you at a flea market. Not when someone is trying to love you.”

Love. You realize what you’ve said a beat too late, but you stand defiant despite it. You do love Steve. This fact, collecting cobwebs in the back of your brain for months, being spat out onto the floor in front of you both is what compels you to what you do next.

Steve, who was previously standing with this index finger and thumb pinching the bridge of his nose, is now staring at you like a deer in headlights. Before either of you can blink, you’re closing the gap between the two of you, sure of yourself. You wrap him in a suffocating embrace and he struggles against your grip.

“Stop! Please I don’t need you-” He all but shouts. Still, you sense a dent in the armor.  A crack in the wall he’s spent so long building to keep you out; to keep everyone out.

Eventually, he stops struggling. His knees give out from underneath him as the trauma and the pain and the events of today catch up to him. But not just today; a year ago when his girlfriend broke his heart at Tina’s stupid party. When Michael Harrington cut him off on the grounds of him being a disgrace to the family name. Everything flooding back to him all at once. Everything he’s spent his youth avoiding.

You sink to the ground with him, still holding him tight. He stops making an effort to hide his sobs, but instead clings to you like you’re the only tangible thing keeping him here. You sit beside him, with one arm wrapped around his shoulders and your free hand cradling his head to his chest so he can hear your heartbeat. A heart that finally beats for him.

“I know.” You soothe. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.” The hair you’re gently stroking, which is usually so voluminous and perfectly styled, is now dampened with blood and sweat.

“I’m sorry-” He sobs, “I'm so sorry.”

“Don’t be. I don’t want you to be sorry. I’m not sorry.” 

He cries harder at that. Shoulders shaking and breath shallow, he looks at you. You cradle his sweet, bruised face in your hands. You think, like a pomegranate, Steve Harrington is beautiful, and worth the mess. Wiping his tears with your thumbs and careful to avoid the cuts and swelling that decorate his face, you give him a smile. Shy, but earnest.

“Can you take me to bed?” He asks you, eyes bleary.

–

Neither of you speak as you turn on the faucet and watch the porcelain tub fill with scalding hot water; still not hot enough to wash away the memories this day has tainted you both with forever. Tentatively, you lift your shirt over your head, and slip your shorts down your scraped legs, revealing your mismatched bra and underwear. A pang of guilt washes over you when you look down and realize Steve took the brunt of the Russian soldiers. He was the bravest and most selfless person you had ever met.

You give him a look that asks “is this okay?” as your fingertips brush the cotton of his ruined Scoops uniform. You aren’t sure what the boundaries are anymore. Momentarily Steve worries this will irreparably change things between you two. He nods anyway. You lift the shirt over his head, catching a glimpse at the real extent of his injuries. His ribs were badly bruised, and he had clotting cuts all over his abdomen. Something swirls in your stomach at the sight of his chest hair. You wish the circumstances of this moment were different.

He pulls his own pants and socks down with a hiss, eyes screwed shut, leaving you both in just your undergarments. He steps into the tub and slowly sinks beneath the hot water. You step in behind him, and he looks over his shoulder at you, a look of confusion contorting his features. You don’t bother to explain, for the fear that speaking would break the trance you both seemingly were under. You had built a space here for each other, one you didn’t want to leave just yet.

Sitting behind him now, you wrap your arms around his chest and pull him flush to you. You rest your chin in the space between his shoulder and his neck, and close your eyes. You can feel how he tries to match his breathing to yours; slow and rhythmic.

You reach up to the hanging shelf on the wall above your head, and grab the cedar and sandalwood body wash. The second you open the bottle, your senses are flooded with him. Only in your wildest dreams did you think you’d ever get to smell his scent in any way other than passing. A slight brush of shoulders in the hallway; a friendly hug when you’d gotten back from a month long vacation.

With a dollop of body wash on a washcloth you found on the edge of the tub, you gently start to scrub the blood and grime off his freckled skin. Like this, you can see every birthmark, every scar, the way the hair at the nape of his neck curls up around his ears in the damp bathroom air.

Steve rests his calloused hand on your knee and squeezes. A silent reassurance that what you’re doing is okay, that he’s okay, that he’s here. Everything feels overwhelmingly intimate as your hands explore his body. You lather his thick, brown locks with the shampoo you found next to the soap. With a heavy sigh, Steve allows his head to fall back into the crook of your neck. He doesn’t tell you, but this is the kindest thing anyone has ever done for him.

You’re not sure how long the two of you sit in the tub together, but at some point he turns to face you, cupping your jaw in his larger hand. The look he gives you is so tender, you think you might cry. His caramel eyes flicker to your lips and back up to your eyes, so fast you would’ve missed it if your senses weren’t dialed up to 11.

With the delicacy of someone touching a flower petal, he closes the gap and presses his cut lips to your soft ones. Hesitant at first, giving you the option to pull away. He fears he may have misread the moment when you separate from him, a look in your eyes that he can’t read. His worry dissipates as you take his face into both of your hands and kiss him deep and slow. You only break when the air feels too stiff to continue, the water droplets accumulating in the air and Steve's kiss making it difficult to catch your breath. His hands slide from where they were grasping your hair, and down to your neck where they stay.

“I love you, too.”

[tossawary]

You know, given all of the cloning and other evil experiments that Palpatine apparently had going on, it's a little remarkable in hindsight that he never targeted Shmi Skywalker personally.

Like, this woman apparently reproduced asexually and gave birth to one of the most powerful Force-sensitives of all time; I don't generally characterize Sith Lords as having great scientific curiosity or a sense of wonder for the universe (or bothering to remember "little" people exist most of the time), because their whole deal kind of precludes that, but it seems reasonable that one might conclude that there's potential power in investigating this.

If Anakin was friendly with Palpatine for the latter half of his childhood, it seems like it could have been relatively easy for Palpatine to learn things like 1) Anakin's midichlorian count (which he can use to tell Anakin that everyone else is just jealous of his power) and 2) Shmi's situation on Tatooine (which he can use to foster resentment between Anakin and the Jedi Order for not helping Shmi too). Just get Anakin a little frustrated and he'll probably start talking! Palpatine could make some concerned offer to send someone to check on Anakin's mother - it is the least that Naboo can do for the family that helped to save them, the Chancellor might say, but he would prefer that such favoritism remain a secret between them - and then Sidious would have Watto's exact address no problem.

And it's not like it would be hard to kidnap Shmi. Palpatine (as Sidious?) could pick some random bounty hunter and order them to go buy her, because this amount of money is presumably pocket change to him, and if Watto resists selling her off to a stranger, the bounty hunter can claim that they've come on behalf of her son. And if that doesn't work or if Shmi is already with the Lars family, there's always violence. Palpatine can just lie to Anakin and say that his agent discovered Shmi was targeted by enemies of the Jedi Order. Oh, what a shame they didn't protect her!

I don't know what would happen from here. Sidious could potentially contract the Kaminoans as a private, anonymous citizen to research Shmi and see if she'll be useful to him at all; the Kaminoans seem to be in the business of designer babies for specific clients (Jango + my vague memories of some "Clone Wars" comic). Which means that Shmi could be unhappily, awkwardly hanging around Kamino, probably still enslaved, when Jango Fett and the clones business is going on. For years, potentially.

Ideally for the Sith, the Kaminoans would be keeping Shmi in an entirely separate facility most of the time, away from the army intended for the Jedi and the Republic. But Jango might be sent around the planet on errands or something and the Kaminoans might need to use very specific equipment at some points, and I am a fan of grand plans being ruined by chance encounters or workplace logistics, so I think it would be fun if Shmi met Jango or Boba. Maybe Palpatine assumed that the Kaminoans had already disposed of Shmi or were keeping her on ice, due to a badly worded email or something else mundane, because the Kaminoan forgot the right Basic word (it's not their first language!!! or a translator malfunctioned or something) during their space phone call.

There's lots of Canon Divergence directions for this, like more serious angst or drama or thriller horror being imprisoned by a Sith Lord (somewhere besides Kamino) or discovering what's being done to the clones. Shmi could end up being rescued by Jedi and helping uncover Sidious. Or she could have a different tragic ending.

(This whole post regarding Shmi and cloning is partially inspired by that one post pointing out that Rey looks a lot like Shmi, and given the strange circumstances of Anakin's birth, any attempt to clone Anakin might have created a clone of Shmi instead. I still think a "Rey as Anakin's clone" is a fun sequel trilogy AU.)

I'm leaning towards fix-it and comedies of errors ideas because the prequels are tragic enough for me. Currently, I'm thinking about Shmi eventually ending up as part of young Boba Fett's gang somehow, because it's amusing to me that he was somehow a recurring antagonistic figure on that TCW show despite being a child. The other bounty hunters are like, "Kid, did you... bring your mom on this mission...?" And Boba Fett is like, "No!!! She's my ship mechanic!!! But if you touch her, just so you know, I will fucking kill you."

I think that both Anakin and Boba would fucking hate being adoptive brothers in any way, shape, or form. And the idea of Luke and Leia someday having an "Uncle Boba Fett" is also very funny to me.

(EDIT: I'm currently dubious regarding a Jango/Shmi ship because Jango does participate in the creation and enslavement of the clone army. Like, it's the Kaminoans who do it, they hold most of the blame and they would have gotten someone else if Jango hadn't done it, but Jango is very much there and at the very least complicit in a horrifying series of crimes against millions of people. Depending on how you characterize Shmi Skywalker, an enslaved woman, I don't really think she'd be cool with that. She let her child go off to become a Jedi because she thought it would be a much better life for him, while Jango sold his own "children" off into war for money. So, I'm currently thinking that Shmi might like the innocent child Boba, but she might honestly dislike Jango quite a lot.)

[samkerrworshipper]

acl’s | sam kerr x reader

this is me trying to work through my devastation but it’s 3am, i’m crying and writing this on my phone. :( it’s a blurb btw

you have to admit the timing of the call should be a little bit of a shock.

it doesn’t cross your mind when your girlfriends contact pops up on your phone, but in hindsight it probably should.

it’s not odd for sam to call you multiple times a day when she’s away on camp, if she has a spare minute here or there, so you are delighted when you see her face pop up on your screen.

you press the green button almost immediately, pulling your phone up to rest at your ear.

“Hiya chook, how’s the weather treating you?”

When you don’t get an immediate response you become a little bit worried, but nothing abnormal.

“Y/n? It’s Emma here.”

It’s when the voice of your fiancés coach hits your ears that you are immediately worried.

“Emma, what can I do for you?”

You’ve talked to Emma hundreds of times, but you can tell from her voice that this is different.

“Look, Sam’s just come off the pitch after a little incident, it’s looking like she’s done her ACL.”

Your gut wrenches, and it takes all of your power to stop your lunch from pouring out across the dining table your sat at.

“What?”

Your head immediately begins to reel, 9 months. That’s the Olympics, Emma’s last season at Chelsea, so many things that Sam has over this year that are now done.

Your mind goes back to Sam’s previous ACL injury, how she’d talked about how it had been the hardest thing mentally and physically for her, that it was almost the end of her career.

“It’s not looking good, we’ll have to wait until she’s had scans to confirm the severity but both her and our doctors are fairly certain it’s her cruciate ligament.”

You take a deep breath, fuck.

“Okay, okay. Is she okay?”

It’s a stupid question, of course she isn’t okay, she’s done her fucking acl, but your concern goes further than her obvious injury.

“She’s in a lot of pain, and she’s pretty torn up. Millie has been keeping her company but all she wants to do is talk to you.”

You nod your head, you know you shouldn’t have to prepare yourself to talk to her but you take your time to take a deep breath, keep yourself strong for her.

“Can you put her on for me please, Emma?”

You hear some bustling around.

“Of course, she wanted me to call you to get the facts straight, but i’ll put her on now.”

You hear a little bit more bustling before complete silence, and that seems to be your queue.

“Sammy, honey?”

You hear a deep, laboured breath crackling from the other side of the phone.

“I’m here.”

Her words are strung out, you know that Sam will be trying her hardest to keep it together, she simply isn’t one to be publicly over emotional, no matter the situation.

“Hi honey.”

You know the best thing right now is to leave her to talk about her injury, you leave ghe ball in her court.

“My whole year is over.”

You hear her voice break, and you know that she’s crying even though you can’t hear any sobs or evidence of tears.

“I’m right here chook, so are all the girls, whatever you need.”

When you hear a sob, it takes everything you have to not start crying with her.

“Need to see you, need you here.”

Sam’s not a needy person, so to hear her asking for something like this is concerning to you.

“How about I turn on facetime chook, will that make you feel a bit better?”

When you hear a little murmur of a ‘yes’ you click the button, waiting for it to connect once she accepts the request.

It’s a matter of seconds before you are met with the visual of Sam, her head resting on Millie's shoulder on a physio bed, tears cascading freely down her olive skin.

“Oh Sammy honey.”

She only begins to cry more, and you are fairly certain once this call ends you’ll be rushing straight to the bathroom to expel all of the bile that’s built up in your throat.

“I’m supposed to be captain, I need to be okay, I need to play the olympics, I couldn’t play the fucking world cup. This could be my last major tournament.”

You want to tell her that she’s being ridiculous, but it would achieve nothing, Sam needs to feel validated in her feelings right now, not like you and the whole world are against her.

“Sam this isn’t your fault, you couldn’t have avoided it, it was just a stupid freak accident, unfortunately it happens in the sport you play.”

Sam looks so broken, Millie’s matching her energy, the normally energetic blonde looking very sullen.

“What if this is it for me?”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, it’s a stupid statement but a very real feeling that Sam has.

“Sam, how about I come to Morocco? I’ll catch the next flight out, and i’ll come and be there for you, is that something you want?”

You don’t want to step over her boundaries, but just the look on her face tells you that she needs to be comforted, she needs to cry and whilst her teammates are great, Sam is never going to be that vulnerable in front of them.

“You don’t have to.”

Her own statement contradicts every single feeling you can see inside her.

“I want to.”

Sam’s tears only begin to fall heavier.

“Please, I need you.”

[icallhimjoey]

Drown In You

♥ ♥  Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: In the shower with Joe, words get spoken that hold nothing back. This is the cut scene, the one entirely jumped over, from part 5 of Reinvent Love, remastered in full HD for your enjoyment. Full smut, little plot (although, read Reinvent Love because it'll help)!

CW / disclaimer: 18+, smut, language, rpf, fem!reader, reader has hair that needs to be brushed after showering

Author’s note: okay so the horny bitches in my inbox have let themselves be heard, and who am i to tell you no? here you go my cumcum twats, enjoy!

Wordcount: 3.2K

“I’ll wait.”

Old hair product mixed with sweat ran into your eyes as the shower stream hit you right over the head and… wait. What? You didn’t think you heard that right.

Joe was holding you, because you’d let the surface crack. You didn’t know if it was his repeated asking for you to talk to him, or if it was how he kept looking at you. But you’d cracked, and you’d seen Joe’s eyes flare for just a second, like what he’d been asking for actually didn’t turn out to be what he wanted. Immediate regret punched him right in the stomach when you showed the smallest bit of emotion.

Joe worried about you.

Worried he was pushing you further away whilst he was trying to keep you close.

Worried he had made mistakes too big to rectify.

Worried you were never going to tell him how you actually felt and he’d just have to go off body language, which, you’d been doing that and it had been fine, but some situations called for explanations.

Like this one.

He just thought you’d get angry with him. Not that you’d cry. In hindsight, he didn’t fully understand why that hadn’t been the expectation, though. You always felt with your whole body. Heavy emotion and tears always found you fast.

So he’d curled his arms around you then, and it took you a good while to control the spasms inside of your chest. You weren’t technically crying, you didn’t think, but if Joe was going to press you to talk one more time, you’d burst right into sobs.

And then he said, “I’ll wait.”

That made you look up at him, forcing him to slide one of his arms from around your head.

“I’ll wait for you. I can be patient.”

So you had heard him right.

The line in between your eyebrows grew deeper as you frowned at him, because what the fuck did he mean he was going to wait? And, in addition, what the fuck did he mean he could be patient?

Joe had just followed you around the flat trying to provoke you into arguing – that’s essentially what he’d been trying to do. Bold of him to claim he could be patient.

You were in the shower together and you knew Joe was just trying to say nice things by ways of comforting you, probably. You hoped that was what was going on. But he was getting it so wrong.

“But…” you started, trying to both make sense of what Joe meant whilst simultaneously thinking of how to tell him he was dead wrong. “I’m right here.”

And you had been.

Joe was the one that left.

You remembered Joe telling you, “Yea, you’re not going anywhere.” in a tender moment when you were trying your best to comfort him for a change, and you’d reacted the same then. Of course you weren’t going to go anywhere. You were there.

Always there.

“I’m right here.”

Joe blinked a couple of times, and looked a little lost, face blank and unassuming.

“I’m right– Joe, what do you mean, you’ll wait? Have we not been– is this not what we’ve been…”

Doing?

You couldn’t finish the sentence and furrowed your brow at how words seemed to escape you, all earlier bravery gone, because it sounded a lot like a big confession that you’d not vocalized before, and what if you were wrong?

What if Joe was going to tell you that, actually, no, what you were saying was not what you had been doing at all, you stupid bitch.

He wouldn’t say that.

But that’s what it would feel like if you were wrong.

Your brain was swimming, thinking thoughts and trying to draw conclusions where there weren’t any to be drawn when suddenly, it all clicked into place for Joe.

He was such an idiot.

Before you knew what was happening, Joe had you shrieking. He’d bent at the knees, got both arms around your waist and picked you up. It was a cute celebratory thing, because whatever you’d said had been all Joe had wanted to hear for weeks. But it was also really fucking terrifying, because you were in a wet slippery bath and you both had wet slippery bodies and the only way Joe was centering his gravity was by his face that was smushed against your chest and this was exactly how sometimes people got bad concussions.

“Joe–” you squeaked from your throat, and you were about to swear at him. Tell him to put you down. That he was a fucking idiot. That he was stupid and that this was dangerous, despite the smile that was already playing at your face.

But then before you could get any of that out, Joe let you slip down and kissed you hard, right on the mouth. Your back bent away from him and had you disappear into the shower stream, but Joe just followed, hands squeezing your sides and his lips roughly pressed to yours, not willing to break contact.

You tried wrapping your head around how you got from trying your best not to cry to being kissed in the way that you were, already feeling drunk on the giggles you were swallowing, and it felt a little ridiculous.

And then Joe spoke through his kisses and said words you didn’t think you would ever accept from him.

“I love you.”

But actually, it was fine.

You were surprised how easily joy bubbled up from deep inside your gut at hearing him mumble his confession. You couldn’t help the smile that pulled at the corners of your mouth, but Joe kept his mouth right there.

“Joe,” you pushed him at the shoulders, and instead of moving away, Joe decided to move closer, feet squeaking against white acrylic. You got cornered until your back touched the tiles and you laughed as you turned your head to break the kiss.

Joe just followed, curled around and got you from the side and, “Joe!” you giggled, because there was water streaming straight into your face, and you knocked one of the shampoo bottles down into the bath, and Joe kept hogging your mouth and you needed that to breathe and– oh.

Joe was hard.

You felt it against your hip and Joe felt how it startled you slightly.

“No, I’m sorry. Ignore that,” you could hear how there was laughter stuck inside of his voice too, but there was something urgent there too.

“I love you. Did you hear me?” he bent to make eye contact, got your chin into his hand to force it. “I love you. I said I love–”

“I love you too.”

The wet words slipped out before your brain could even catch up to it, voice way softer than Joe’s, but you didn’t mean the words any less.

Somehow it was an easy thing to say. It helped that Joe said it first, so you were just parroting which didn’t feel half as embarrassing as you imagined it could have been.

Your words stilled Joe’s whole body, just for a moment, completely frozen, and then he groaned with both eyes squeezed shut and let his head fall, face first into your shoulder.

You grinned when you looked down and saw the direct effect of what you’d said.

Made you want to say it again.

“I love you too,” you made it sound extra breathy that time, not even sure if Joe would be able to hear it over the shower water clattering into the bath, but you could tell he caught the words fine from the way Joe’s knees gave out for a split second, dick jumping and already leaking.

You loved Joe.

“Hey, I love you. Did you hear me? I said I lovemmpf–” Joe got a hand over your mouth just for the sheer agony of what it was doing to him. You took your shot and bit right into his fingers as you smiled.

“Stop it, you’ve got to– you can’t–”

Joe didn’t get the chance to finish the sentence. You got him back in the best way; with wet kisses and with scraping teeth. With hands in his hair that you used to push him right against your face. With a leg that hiked itself up until your knee touched his hip, prompting Joe to get his hands under your ass, lifting you up and pushing you against the wall in an attempt to slip inside.

But all of it was too slippery.

Too wet.

And you were laughing too much to make it work.

So you kissed, with both feet sort of steady in the bath and let your hands touch bits of Joe that made him flinch.

You were sharing your first shower together, and it felt sort of momentous.

“I love you,” Joe said again like they were the only words he knew how to use now, dragging his lips down your throat, pressing kisses to your chest.

“I love you, too,” you replied, biting your teeth into your bottom lip whilst working both hands on him, using one underneath and making Joe gasp.

Joe kept trailing down more until he kneeled and you lost your grip on him. Without warning he pressed his whole face into you, and both your hands found his shoulders as you worriedly tried pushing him back.

“No, Joe,” you pushed until you could look him in the eye. “Stop, baby, you’ll drown.”

Baby.

Joe looked up at you and quirked his eyebrows as he smirked, both because you’d never called him baby before and because of the double entendre.

You meant that Joe could drown because you were in the shower and if his mouth was busy, surely he would end up inhaling the water that ran down your body until he’d fucking choke.

Joe, however, took it to mean something else.

And he wasn’t exactly wrong, either.

“I mean…” he started, making eye-contact with what was right in front of him. Pretty. Glistening. Dripping. Joe was about to say some stupid shit aloud, was about to say that he loved her, maybe even just as much as he loved you, because, Jesus Christ, he really fucking did.

“I’ll happily drown in you.” he got a small kiss in where he wanted to so desperately kiss you, but then you laughed and said, “No. No drowning today.” as you sunk down to your own knees, joining him sat down in the tub.

Joe easily accepted you, hands finding yours to help you down safely, happy to oblige and move to where you wanted him to be, which was sat on his arse where the water hit him overhead.

With his eyes barely open, he grinned widely as you moved to sit on his lap, one knee either side of him, arms slung around his neck. It was a tight fit and skin squeaked against the side of the tub. Joe thought that surely this couldn’t actually be nicer than him getting mouth on you, but, sure.

Your pace, remember?

Your lead.

“I love you,” you mouthed as you went in for open-mouthed kisses which Joe happily accepted, pulling you into him hard, trapping himself in between the two of you and starting quick little tilts of his hips. You helped by finding a rhythm of your own, rubbing over him and holding Joe as close as you could to add pressure where he was so clearly looking for it.

“I love you,” Joe breathed in reply, and they were barely even words at this point. Just wet vowels falling from a gasping mouth that tried telling you how good this already felt, and that he wasn’t even inside yet.

Joe’s lips tinged just as shiny red as the tip of him, and you weren’t sure if you were working up a sweat more now than you had during your run, but you knew that this activity was much preferred over the other.

When you finally lifted up just slightly more and used your fingers to line Joe up to slip inside, you saw how droplets of water spat from his lips as he mouthed a desperate, “Please.”

Joe didn’t need to beg.

But it was lovely when he did.

Made you stall, just to hear him say it again. Have him ask extra nicely.

You felt how Joe’s grip on your hips strengthened, fingertips digging deeper into your flesh.

“Please, please. Baby, please, can you–”

You sunk down onto him, making him disappear inside of you entirely. The loud moan that escaped you surprised Joe enough to move a panicked hand up to cover your mouth.

That just made you whine louder.

“Shh– shhh–,” Joe trembled through shushes, trying for eye-contact, “You can’t– you... you gotta be quiet. You...” Joe faltered, hand moving to hold you by the side of the face, fingers disappearing into wet strands that were then used to pull you in closer to kiss.

God, he fucking loved you so much.

Could you feel it? Could you feel how anguished he felt that he only had two hands to touch you with? Could you feel how feverish and lightheaded you made him feel? Could you feel how there was a deep craving inside of him that only you could satisfy for him?

He wanted you to feel it.

Feel his love.

Joe wanted you to feel how much he loved you, so he used his mouth where he could, and used his hands where he could, and he imagined how the water running down the two of you was getting rid of all the bullshit.

You were being cleansed of all the bad until there’d be only good left.

You were having sex in the bath until it’d be nothing but just love there.

You rode Joe in the bath until your knees starting hurting too much. Until the water than ran down both your faces became too annoying. Until your hands knocked all the other bottles of shampoo and conditioner into the bath behind Joe. Until Joe got too freaked out that he couldn’t shut you up, and wasn’t that an insane contrast to whatever he had been trying to do the night before?

You hadn’t minded Joe trying to get you to be loud.

But Joe trying to get you to stay quiet was infinitely better.

It made you want to be bratty about it. Be loud on purpose. Get those eyes to flare and bulge, wet lips shushing you, but otherwise doing nothing else to stop you from feeling good. Because ultimately, that’s all Joe wanted; for him to be the one to make you feel good.

When Joe came, he made a sticky mess of the side of the bath.

When you came, you made a sticky mess of Joe’s fingers.

You kissed for a while after then, stood up out of the direct surge of water, and you loved this. Loved kissing Joe as your brain slowly found its way back to reality. It was all soft touches and slow movements and a terrible waste of water, but you fucking loved it.

When you thought Joe reached behind to finally turn the shower off, you found he instead reached for a bottle of shampoo.

“Turn around.”

Joe made sure you felt it.

Felt how fucking loved you were.

Massaged your scalp with love in his finger tips.

Rinsed your hair out with love in his palm.

Towel dried you after with love in his arms.

You had never felt this taken care of before, and when Joe reached for your hairbrush, he was surprised to turn back and find two wet shimmering eyes staring back at him in the large still slightly fogged-up mirror.

“Hey,” he curled an arm around your front and you let a wet chuckle escape you. “You okay? What’s going on with you right now?”

You shrugged and felt silly as you looked at each other via the mirror. Joe pressed a kiss against your ear, and you managed to squeak out, “I don’t know, just love you, I guess.”

That made Joe push his forehead to the side of your skull as he bit his lips into his mouth.

“Oh no,” he softly said, wincing slightly before you could see him smile. The effect of those words hadn’t just gone and changed within the last hour, so it seemed.

“I love y–” you were cut off by a louder groan as Joe bent down, hinging at his hips, pushing his head into your ribs and you couldn’t help but laugh as you let your arm scratch up and down his back.

“Maybe,” Joe breathed, eyes squeezed shut for a second in a bid to recompose himself. “Maybe don’t use those words for right now.”

“Got it.” you nodded. “No talking.”

That made Joe turn his head enough to see you smile in the mirror. Joe hadn’t just spent all morning to make you talk only for you to

“All right, no. That’s not what I said, I–” Joe moved to stand up straight again, and you saw your chance to make him double over again.

“I love you.”

“You– hnngg,” Joe had to turn and lean both elbows on the sink, head dropped down, having real trouble finding his breath.

“Tell you what,” you started, smile unable to be swiped from your face, and you grabbed Joe by his shoulders. “I’ll go make breakfast. Throw that pizza into the oven. We’ll have it on the sofa and then you can brush my hair after, all right?” you pressed a small kiss to his shoulder blade and wanted to say it again, just for fun, but decided you’d probably tortured him enough.

You tapped a shoulder to which Joe hummed and then went to leave the bathroom, turning around and unlocking the door.

“Hey,” Joe stopped you just before you walked out, and you looked over a shoulder to make eye contact with him in the mirror once again.

“Love you.” Joe’s constricted voice squeezed out, just because he couldn’t have you tell him three times and not say it back.

You smiled and used a hand to pretend to lock your lips up, making a breathy laugh escape Joe before he let his forehead drop into the crook of his elbow.

Loved you.

Joe loved you and he loved that you loved him. He just needed a minute.

You loved him.

That needed more than a second to acclimate to.

Your love.

He would so happily drown in it, you had no idea.

Perhaps, he should take the lead for just a little while. Make sure he was actually going to survive this.

His lead.

His time, maybe.

His pace, definitely.

But your love.

Always your love.

the end

---

The Taglisted

@ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson,

@choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @djoseph-quinn,

@dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee,

@figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @hanahkatexo, @harringtonfan4,

@hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke,

@lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munsonluvrr,

@munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @nglharry, @notverywise, @pepperstories,

@phyllosilicate-s, @royale1803, @sherrylyn0628, @sidthedollface2, @solzi1420,

@songforeddiemunson, @sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73,

@werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

[anthurak]

Takeaways from the Volume 9 Epilogue:

--

One thing I really like about Oscar’s ‘If there was anything I wish I could borrow from you…’ monologue is that it laid out/confirmed something I’ve always felt was a major aspect of Oscar’s dynamic with Ruby that I nonetheless feel a lot of the fandom has missed: That Oscar very much sees Ruby as a mentor and an example to follow, and how their dynamic is specifically a foil to what we saw between Ruby and Ozpin. That Ruby acts as a mentor and example to Oscar in the same way Ozpin was to Ruby, and that Ruby is a far BETTER mentor and example to Oscar than Ozpin ever was to her. Which, as an aside, is a dynamic I can’t help but feel a lot of people have been misinterpreting as ‘ship-teasing’ and is one of the main reasons I’ve simply never been able to see Oscar as any kind of viable love-interest to Ruby. Frankly the dynamic of ‘Ruby is the mentor and example to Oscar that Ozpin couldn’t be for her’ is simply so much more INTERESTING than any kind of romance could ever hope to be.

--

Even in animatic form, Winter basically going overdrive on the maiden powers was a sight to behold. And her own monologue had all the self-deprecation we were expecting. Our girl is clearly holding on by a thread and it’s going to be REAL interesting seeing how she reacts and adjusts to her sister not actually being dead. As in, I can imagine a situation where Winter tries to throw herself into a heroic sacrifice with the belief that Weiss would make a better Maiden than her.

Also, Winter’s monologue giving major focus to how Penny is super-super-dead-dead-and-definitely-not-coming-back-for-really-realsies, as she is talking to the sister who she ALSO believes is DEFINITELY also dead? Specifically with the words that Penny is gone, when Penny’s last words to her were that she’d be ‘part of you’?

Yeah, there is no way in hell we’ve seen the last of Penny XD

--

The CROWN. Like it was only a few shots, but as someone who read the CFVY Books (which you totally should if you haven’t, they’re great), holy shit I was NOT expecting them to pop up here.

I mean, in hindsight it makes perfect sense that they’d be involved in Volume 10. They’re basically Vacuo’s equivalent to Vale’s criminal element and the White Fang splinter faction as Salem’s co-opted insurgency group, with Jax and Gillian joining Roman, Adam and Jacques as the latest of Salem’s unwitting patsies. It’s definitely going to be real interesting seeing the crew deal with them. Like it’s really fun to imagine Team RWBY in particular being kind of exasperated at seeing Jax’s probably doing a whole ‘With Salem’s help I shall be King!’ shtick after everything they’ve seen with Roman, Adam and Jacques.

Oh and if you don’t know, Jax has a mind-control semblance, so him trying to use that on Yang could actually lead to a sneaky callback to the Justice League crossover, ie; Yang doing a ‘Yeah, I’m not doing THAT shit again.’ XD

--

Qrow’s whole vibe through this is fascinating. Like his section may have been the one we already saw, but after seeing the abject depression and growing despair of all the other characters, Qrow actually being OPTIMISTIC hit so much harder.

--

Raven showing up at the end is… interesting.

I’ll admit that ever since we saw that specific clip a few months back, I’ve been rather conflicts about Raven showing up to deliver RWBY+J to Vacuo, particularly after Ruby’s tree vision. Like for one it felt a bit random and unnecessary. The tree already deposited the Ever After team outside of Vacuo so they didn’t exactly need help getting there. Not to mention that it kind of clotheslines the story-thread set up by Ruby’s vision; that she now has a reason to track Raven down to get the ANSWERS to what happened to Summer. Finally, it’s just kind of… random? Like where did Raven even come from to get the team?

But now having seen the clip with its intended context, I’m definitely more on board with it. Particularly hearing from Kerry and Eddy that the original ending for the penultimate episode had RWBY+J going through the portal to arrive at their memorial stone, and met by a ‘Mysterious Figure’, ie; Raven. Here it feels like were getting more set up to get answers later as to what Raven was doing at the memorial.

And really, now that I’ve thought about it more, this method kind of puts the thread of Ruby going to Raven for answers even MORE into focus. Like the story reintroduces Raven in the present right after Ruby got a vision basically saying ‘hey, Raven is important’. And now going into Volume 10, we’re pretty much perfectly positioned for Ruby to pull Raven aside for those all-important ‘Why were you fucking my mom? What happened to my mom?’ questions.

--

Finally… yeah that ending hit me a LOT harder than I was expecting. Like that ending was HOPE in its purest form and it was honestly beautiful to see. Particularly right now with the future of the show seeming so uncertain. I’ve personally been optimistic about RWBY’s future (in a manner not unlike Qrow’s vibes I suppose lol), but damn the hopefulness of that ending hit especially hard, and was something I’ll admit I needed. And I imagine the rest of us could use as well.

We'll be getting Volume 10. And 11, and 12, and however many more it takes to finish this story. At this point, I have no doubt of that.

[shiftingparadise]

I don’t know if your busy rn but there is a shortage in FEITAN x readers books and ya girl is dying. I know your inbox is like huge probably but anyways.. IF YOU DO TYSM AND IF YOU DONT TYSM FOR READING ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️😻😻😻🥲🥲🫶🫶🫶🫶

Sorry it took so long. I hope you like this :) In this story, Feitan is similar to my others works. So he isn’t particularly very kind in the beginning. I’m working on your requests now, so if you have one don’t be afraid to send me a message or to ask one! Keep in mind that I have a couple left to do, so I’m only asking for some patience :3.

If you enjoy my stories it would be really great if you could buy me a coffee with the link in my bio 😇. HOWEVER DON’T FEEL OBLIGED TO DO SO. I’m only saying this because someone did a week ago and it felt really nice 🥹. I really enjoy writing for you guys either way 🤍✨

PS: I wanted to write another part of this, let me know if I should :)

Warnings: smut and angst.

Word count: 3455

“Be careful, don’t let your heart fool you”, my father took another sip from his coffee, “You’ve got to be sure he isn’t after our money”. “How can you say something like that?”. “I only want what’s best for you. You know that”. “I know him. He would never do anything to hurt me”, you slowly stood up. For some reason, your father’s office never seemed so small before. “Fine”, my father sighed, “Invite him over for dinner”.

You closed your eyes, tears streaming down your cheeks as you remembered the conversation with your father. You didn’t know. You really didn’t. How could you know that he was a Spider? That he was only playing a part? Right, in hindsight everything did seem a little fishy. The way he was suddenly there when you needed a shoulder to cry on. Or the way his name didn’t seem to truly ‘fit’ him. Jacob. He didn’t look like a Jacob at all. How could you be this dumb? Life isn’t like the fairytales and you were an idiot to think it could be.

“Where is she?”.

You couldn’t help but shiver. That voice used to be so familiar. So warm and soft.

“Boss told us to keep her in here”, the blonde that stood in front of the door answered. “It’s nice in there, Fei. She has a nice bed and lots of books”, a misguidingly soft voice answered.

The girl seemed so sweet, with her big glasses and her soft eyes. You couldn’t understand how she could be part of a gang like this.

“I don’t care”, Feitan coldly replied before walking past his comrades.

Your stomach started to turn. You couldn’t look at him. You wanted to keep your memories clean from any stains; to remember him the way you knew him. Kind and soft-hearted.

“Look at me”. “No”, you softly answered as you kept your gaze locked on the ground. “I said look at me”, his hands roughly grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at him. “I don’t want to”, you almost whispered as you tried not to cry. “Look at me”.

You flinched as you felt the tip of his knife against your cheek. The same place he used to kiss you before wishing you goodnight.

You looked up at him with glossy eyes, not daring to say anything. “Are you scared?”, his cold eyes pierced through your skull. “Yes”, you softly agreed while studying his face. He was nothing like the man you used to know.

His facial features were so cold and distant. As if he was frozen in ice for hundreds of years. You couldn’t see half of his face, as it was covered with the coat he was wearing. It was decorated with a skull, making him even more morbid.

“Good”, he roughly pulled away as he lowered his knife to your throat. “Why are you doing this?”, your chin high. “Why?”, he repeated the question while once again lowering his knife. Letting the cold metal rest just beneath your collarbone. Your breathing got heavier as fear’s grip tightened around your body.

You didn’t know he wasn’t the head of this organization, that this wasn’t his plan. To you, he was the man with all the answers. The one who planned this whole scheme.

“If you want money-“, you were cut short by the back of his hand. “Only speak when I tell you to”.

He wasn’t that tall, but the way he hit you made him seem like the devil. Even though you couldn’t see, you knew there was this cruel grin on his face. You could tell by the way his eyes narrowed.

“Too hard”, his thumb grazed over your cheek. “Or you’re just too fragile”, he lowered his collar to lick up the drop of blood on his thumb. “Don’t cry”, he kneeled before you, “We’re going to have a lot more fun than this”. “Fei?”, the sweet-looking girl suddenly stood next to him. “What, Shizuku?”, Feitan sighed before standing up again. “Boss said not to hurt her, remember?”, her finger resting on her lip. “Tsk”, he clicked his tongue before leaving. “Don’t worry”, the girl cheerfully smiled, “We only need some kind of code. I’m sure your father will give it to us soon”. “Code?”, your eyes widened, “H-he won’t give it!”, you hastily got up from the bed you were sitting on. “Huh? He won’t?”, the girl widened her eyes.

You knew your father. He would never risk the nation’s, no the world’s, safety. Not even for his own daughter.

“You’re after the code for the nuclear weapons, right?”. “I guess… I don’t remember to be honest”, she looked down at the ground. “Listen, my father will never give that code. J-just ask our president-“. “But only your father knows that code, since he’s head of security”, the girl happily smiled, causing you to shiver. “Yo, Shizu”, the blonde angrily yelled from the door. “Huh?”, she looked behind her. “Shut up before you tell her our whole plan”. “Oh right”, she giggled before leaving.

——

“Get the girl, Phinks”, Feitan coldly sighed from behind your door.

You tucked your knees even tighter to your chest. You didn’t know what was going to happen. Were they going to kill you? Torture you?

“Get up”, Phinks roughly grabbed your arm and pulled you from the bed. “Let go!”, you tried to struggle, to break free from his grip. “You want me to get Feitan?”, he gritted his teeth. A threat he didn’t have to make twice.

You hastily stopped struggling, now following him into the main room of the abandoned building. The stones underneath your feet felt exceptionally cold, and the nightgown you were wearing didn’t really help to keep you warm.

“She’s freezing”, a voice too soft now greeted your ears, “Put this on her”.

You looked up to a tall figure. His hair was pitch black and there was this kind of cross tattooed on his forehead. He was an exceptionally good-looking man, but somehow his skin was just as cold-looking as Feitan. It didn’t match his kind voice at all.

“Here”, Phinks threw the coat at your feet. “I said put it on”, the dark-haired man smiled, “She can’t put it on when her hands are tied, can she? “Tsk”, the blonde picked up the coat before throwing it over your shoulders.

You scanned the room. There were about 10 people in the room. Some of them just looked evil, but others looked as innocent as a child. Especially a blonde-haired guy with big, green eyes.

“Your father won’t give us the code. Do you-”, the soft voice broke through your thoughts. “Who are you?“.

“Huh?”, you froze in fear as Feitan’s knife was once again pressed to the soft skin of your neck. You didn’t see him move. It felt as if he had just teleported to you.

“Tsk”, his eyes found yours, “How dare you interrupt boss?”. “Come now, Feitan”, the man now walked towards you, stopping before you. Without any warning, his fingers glided over your cheek, “You couldn’t contain yourself before, but you have to now”. Feitan immediately stepped away from you, discontent hidden in his eyes. “Feitan has a hard time holding himself back from… Fun”, the man smiled, “But it seems he did his best with you. I rarely get to see a hostage without any cuts or broken fingers”. “Lucky me”, you sarcastically answered while holding eye contact. “Yes, but keep in mind that luck doesn’t last forever”, he chuckled. “I’m Chrollo. Head of the Spiders”, he walked back to the stairs he was sitting on earlier. “My father isn’t going to give up the code. Not even for me”. “Yes, he made that very clear”, Chrollo replied. “Let me go and I promise my father will give you a generous reward”, your heart racing. “We have more than enough money. Besides, we can’t let you go. You know all of our names. Well… you’ll get to know them”. “What does that mean?”, you took a step back. “Feitan wanted you as a reward during this mission. So whether we’ll get the code or not, you’re not leaving”, Chrollo’s eyes glittered in the dark. “I-I don’t want to”, you started to panic. “Don’t care”, Feitan’s voice was only fuel to your fear. “From now on, you belong to Feitan”, Chrollo signaled Phinks to free your hands. “Keep the coat. I don’t think Feitan cares if you’re cold. You’ll be at least warm that way”, Chrollo spoke as if Feitan wasn’t there. “Right”, Feitan smirked. “At least get her some proper clothing, Fei”, Chrollo coldly looked at his Spider before dismissing everyone.

——

“Here”, Feitan threw a couple of bags on your bed the next day. “Proper clothes”, he leaned against the door.

After Chrollo dismissed everyone, Feitan took you with him to the house he was currently living in. It was a big and luxurious house. It wasn’t really decorated with furniture, only the necessary things like a couch, a dinner table, some paintings on the wall… And the room you were staying in was just as empty. There was a bed, a luxurious bathroom, and a big, walk-in closet that was empty of course.

“Proper clothes?”, your brows pulled together as you pulled a dress out of one of the bags. “This is a Prada dress?”. “I want you to look pretty”, Feitan looked up at the ceiling. “I’ll get you clothes every week. They won’t last long anyway”, his eyes now darted to yours.

Your stomach turned. You could only imagine what he was going to do to you.

“Wear this one for now”, Feitan slowly walked to your bed before handing you another bag. “For dinner. Hired some chef”. “I’m not hungry”, you clenched your jaw. “I don’t care”, he once again grabbed your jaw, “You’ll do as I say. Got it?”, his lips hovering next to your ear. “I’ve been kind until now, haven’t I? I behaved, so you’ll behave too”.

You didn’t answer, you just nodded in response.

“Good. Now put it on”, he leaned back. “N-now?”, you looked up at him with fear in your eyes. “Yes, want to see your body one last time before I have fun with it”. “What do you mean?”, you tried to keep your voice steady. “Put it on”, his cold gaze let you know his patience was running thin.

With shaking hands, you pulled out the nightgown you were wearing from when Feitan kidnapped you. You weren’t wearing anything underneath it, but that didn’t faze you. Feitan had seen your body many times by now. He used to place kisses all over it, making you feel like no one ever had before.

“This one?”, you covered your breasts with your arm. “Yes”, he got closer. You pulled out a beautiful, black dress from the back.

It wasn’t especially short, but it wasn’t long either. The fabric ended just above your knees. It was a tight dress until your belly, where it opened up like a flower. It was a beautiful dress, no doubt about it.

“I’ll close it”, Feitan guided you to a mirror before his hands glided along your waist.

His touch didn’t seem rough at all. It felt just as before.

“You like it?”, he took a step back when he zipped up the dress for you. “Hm”, you nodded in agreement. “Dinner’s at 7”, he cleared his throat before leaving you again.

——

You couldn’t eat. There was this lump in your throat that made it feel like you’d throw up if any kind of food entered your mouth.

“I thought sushi was your favorite”, Feitan was sitting on the other end of the table. “It is”, you hastily picked up some food, fearing what might happen if you didn’t eat. “It’s really good”, your eyes widened.

You didn’t realize how much your body needed some kind of fuel. You didn’t eat for at least 2 days now, and you only realized now how hungry you truly were.

“One of the best sushi chefs”, Feitan looked at the kitchen behind him where the chef was preparing more food. He seemed in distress, probably because Feitan made sure he wouldn’t tell a soul you were with him.

After dinner, Feitan guided you back to your room.

“Can I go to sleep?”, you softly asked as you sat down on your bed. “Sleep?”, he tilted his head, “No, it’s time for me to have some fun”. “Fun?”, your breathing started to fasten. “Fun”, his eyes lit up before roughly grabbing your arm and pulling you to another room.

There was nothing in the room except for a chair and a bed. Without any warning, he threw you on the bed and tied your wrists to it.

“What are you going to do?”, your eyes already glossy. “Whatever I want”, a knife in his hand as he slowly crawled on top of you. “I’ve wanted to take you like this since the first time we met”, his nose taking in the scent of your hair. “You know how hard it is to hold back when you’re this pretty? It was almost hard for me to finish at times because you were so boring… Always begging me to kiss you, to take you slow, … I hated it”.

You didn’t answer. There was nothing for you to say. Even when he showed some kindness earlier, you should’ve prepared yourself for this.

He swiftly cut the straps of your dress with his knife, causing it to slide down just beneath your breasts. “Stay still”, his knife firmly pressed against your throat as he noticed you were starting to kick your legs. “Please”, tears streamed down your cheek as he licked up a drop of your blood. “Don’t worry, you’re going to like this”, he looked into your eyes before cupping your cheek, “I’ll be rough, but I won’t be a monster. I know you’re body and when it’s ready for me. Even though you won’t admit it, I know you’ve been craving my touch. I saw it earlier when you were undressing in front of me… Your legs were rubbing against each other when I zipped up your dress. You only do that when you want me”.

Yes. No. Maybe. You knew he was right. Earlier… You wanted him, but you tried to push those thoughts away as much as you could. He wasn’t the man you knew. He was a psychopath, how could you want someone like him?

“Now, stay still”, his nails dug into the soft flesh of your waist as he pulled up your dress with the other. “Feitan, please”, another tear was streaming down your cheek. “Say it. Tell me you want me to stop”, his knee pushed your legs open as his digits hovered over your most sensitive spot. “I’ll stop if you do”, a devilish smirk in his eyes.

But you didn’t want him to. You didn’t care if he was going to be rough, or if he was even going to hurt you. You wanted him.

“See?”, he chuckled at a lack of answer. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? You’ve never been this wet for me”, he softly bit on your shoulder. You closed your eyes as you were still trying to fight yourself. “I asked you a question”, his hand wrapped around your throat as he bit your shoulder again. Only harder this time. “S-shit”, you cried out in pain. “I’m going to cover you in bitemarks for ignoring my question”, he loosened his grip around your neck while his fingers slowly entered you. “Fuck”, you arched your back as he left bite marks on your body.

You couldn’t deny it any longer. He made you feel good, better than he ever did.

“Tsk”, Feitan frowned when you came undone around his fingers, “Wasn’t expecting you to enjoy this”. “I-I’m not”, you avoided his gaze as your cheeks turned red. “Liar”, he softly hummed while undressing himself.

Your eyes were glued to his body. Now it was clear why he never took off his shirt.

“Who did that to you?”, you quietly whispered as you noticed his scars. For a second, his eyes widened while his lips were slightly parted.

There was this short-lived moment in his mind where he wanted to let you in and where he wanted you to care for him. An unwilling memory of your arms wrapped around him flashed before his eyes.

“Shut up”, his eyes went dark again, “Don’t talk”.

Afraid of being enchanted by your warm voice again, he thought it better not to hear your voice at all.

He didn’t ask if you were ready for him. It was unnecessary. By now, your legs are already wrapped willingly around his waist. “Feitan”, your eyes closed as his forehead was pressed against yours. “Don’t”, Feitan grunted as he got even rougher, “I don’t want you to enjoy this”.

That was a lie. He wanted you to, more than anything. It wasn’t his intention for you to enjoy this, and he surely didn’t want to leave you so perfectly. In his mind, he wanted to hurt you, to make you bleed, just as he did with all those before you. That’s what he enjoyed. Torture. Not this. This wasn’t like him, and it made him mad but there was nothing he could do. He didn’t want to hurt you, more so, it would even make him feel bad about himself.

“Sorry”, your lips pressed against each other as a whisper left your chest. “Fuck”, he grunted in agitation.

He didn’t know what to do, but this didn’t feel right.

“Tell me”, he clenched his jaw at the realization of how soft he had gotten for you. “W-what?”, you looked to the side. “Tell me you want me, please”, his eyes were glued to a bitemark he left.

He couldn’t lie. The bruises looked so good on your body, but only because you enjoyed it. If he did something like that while you were crying, begging him to stop…

“I want you, Feitan”, your soft voice melted something inside him as if a fire was lit inside his heart. “Even now? Even when you see who I truly am?”.

“Even now”.

Without thinking twice, he cut the rope that was holding you down.

“Touch me. Like you used to”, he softly grabbed your wrist before placing your hand on the back of his head.

You obeyed as you softly tugged at his dark hair.

“I don’t want to take you slowly like I used to, Y/N”. “You don’t have to”, your legs tightened around his waist.

That was all he needed to hear. Without any hesitation, his lips crashed against yours.

“You feel so good”, your breathing got heavier as you could feel he was getting close. “Yeah?”, his voice low, “Want me to breed you?”. You hastily nodded as you could feel yourself getting closer to your own climax. “Really?”, he chuckled, “You never let me come inside you before. Always crying about being scared to get pregnant”. “P-please Feitan”, you arched your back. “Don’t worry. I’m going to fill you up this time, whether you want me to or not”.

Your legs now started to shake as you came undone around him.

“That’s it. Good girl”, Feitan grabbed your jaw, “Now look at me and beg”. “P-please Fei, want you to come inside me”. “Want me to put a baby in you? Making you mine forever?”. “P-please”.

Feitan couldn’t contain himself any longer. With heavy breaths and low grunts, he let his head rest against your shoulder.

“Never felt so good”, he slowly pulled out, before placing a soft kiss on the bitemark he left on your shoulder. “Hm”, you happily smiled.

He didn’t know why he decided to act cold again. Honestly, he hated himself for it, but there was something inside him. A feeling he never felt before. Was it fear? Was he scared that you were going to leave him? No. You couldn’t leave him. He kidnapped you and you had nowhere to go. It was something else. He knew you weren’t going to leave, but he was scared you were going to hate him for what he did. Or rather, for who he was. You didn’t know the real him.

“Don’t think this will happen again”, he coldly got up, “You won’t enjoy this next time”.

You lowered your eyes as you watched him put on his clothes.

“Can I-“.

“Go to your room and shower. I don’t care what you do for the rest of the night”, he clenched his jaw before leaving you alone.

[kazumiwrites-fanfiction]

Not-So-Secret Drawings

REQUEST: Hi there, so I've been daydreaming about this for awhile but I absolutely suck at writing so, could i request hcs were the reader is really good at drawing and has been secretly drawing random people on campus whenever they get the chance, but one day reader forgets there sketch pad somewhere and a character (of your choosing) finds it and decides to snoop and finds drawingsof them and people on campus. Just as they finish looking through reader comes (after realizing they forgot it). I hope this makes sense to you, have a nice day/night.

SUMMARY: Your carefully hidden secret is out now. WORD COUNT: 1k

WARNINGS: Riddle, Azul, Floyd, and Vil snooping looking through your drawings, reader is a really good artist, Riddle threatens you (out of love I swear), Azul is uncomfortable by your drawings (not in a bad way- I think), mentions of getting lectured by Azul, Floyd is a ball of chaos, Vil gets no warnings because he's perfect/j A/N: When I tell you that as soon as I saw this I immediately rushed to write two parts before having to stop because I needed to do my summer homework - and then procrastinated the last part (Vil)- Also I know you implied one character but since I'm indecisive I did multiple haha (I'm sorry (but also kind of not because this was fun)) I'm sure you don't suck at writing!! You just get sick of your own writing because it all seems predictable (speaking from experience, I read my work and I'm like "ew?? I need better words" haha) Vil's part is definitely weird because I was like "Fashion Designer!Reader" (probably because some of my friends take fashion/design classes) and I don't know how accurate this is I suck at drawing so I know nothing please don't come at me- Also on a side note, I have a lot of requests right now and since I have a lot of schoolwork I have to do right now, my writing will probably be scattered. Hope you guys understand! (Hope you have a nice day/afternoon/night/etc too!!)

© kazumiwrites - All rights reserved; please do not steal, edit, copy, repost (etc) my work without my express permission.

You had always been careful with your drawings. You never wanted another person to look at them. After all, you had been drawing other people - and who knew what they would think?

Sure, they were pretty accurate, but still. It wasn't like the people at Night Raven College knew that you were drawing them. And you didn't want your drawings to get destroyed just because someone in a foul mood found them. Just your luck though, as you had left your sketchbook somewhere. Where did you even misplace it…

Riddle Rosehearts

He had always seen you with your sketchbook, but had assumed it was just for studying.

Likewise, when it popped up during class, he assumed that you were diligently taking notes.

It was almost sad seeing how far from the truth he was in hindsight.

Since he found your sketchbook on the floor (perhaps having fallen from your bag - it was always full, after all), he decided to take it to you. On the way over to Ramshackle Dorm, he flipped through the sketchbook before he paused.

These weren't notes. They were drawings.

And very good ones, at that.

They were so detailed, he thought for an instant that you had magicked them on here somehow (before remembering that you didn't have any magic).

So was this what you could do with some time and diligence?

His mother had never let him draw much so his drawings were mediocore at best (at worst, one would think that a small child had drawn them).

He found himself captivated by the artwork, flipping through the pages, seeing the drawings of various people from the school. Even some of himself…? With more details... It was odd, the small flutter in his chest. Happiness?

He jolted as he heard your voice, asking if that sketchbook in his hands was yours, abruptly slamming the sketchbook shut as if he had been looking at something completely inappropriate. Which, in a way, he might have been?

"Sorry for looking at these without your permission." He got out after a moment, handing it back to you. "You're a really good artist." He paused. "But you shouldn't be drawing in class. If I catch you with this sketchbook out during Trein-sensei's lectures, I'll have your head!"

Azul Ashengrotto

Of course Azul had noticed your drawings. He needed to in order to make sure he knew as much as possible about others so he could scam help them whenever they needed it.

Still, he found it intriguing, so he couldn't help but skim through your drawings. And my, were they amazing.

Until he got to the section where you had drawn him.

Sure, there were drawings of him in regular uniform, some of him in his P.E. uniform (he thought that they weren't really flattering on him, but you made it look good).

But then there were the sections where you had drawn him in mer form.

Of course, you had no idea what his mer form actually looked like (without all the overblotting, which you never got the chance to see clearly anyway) so it was mostly guesswork and using your imagination.

There were ones with long, large tentacles swarming around him.

Some with tentacles that were slender.

Some of them popped out of weird angles, which he was puzzled about, but okay.

My tentacles can't move like that - or can they?

They definitely shouldn't be popping out of his ribs. Wherever did you get that particular idea? It made him uncomfortable just by looking at it.

He was so caught up in examining your drawings and he didn't notice you until you literally snatched the sketchbook from his hands, saying something about how they were private.

"Sorry, [Y/N]-san... But these drawings aren't too accurate, you know."

And that was how you got roped into a three-hour long discussion about the anatomy of octopuses as well as the anatomy of merfolk and how your drawings were terribly inaccurate. (You were just guessing, how were you supposed to know any of this?)

Floyd Leech

Floyd wouldn't even wait until the sketchbook was unattended.

He'd pop out of nowhere, eyes bright, asking what you were doing.

Never mind if it was in the middle of class or not.

You've both gotten scolded about this, he should know better.

Still, one day he caught you by surprise, and the book slipped from your hands.

You muttered a small curse before trying to grab it, but whoops, too late. Floyd had already gotten it and was flipping through the pages.

"Aww, Koebi-chan, you drew me?" His gaze met yours, a wide grin on his face (showing his extremely sharp teeth). "You should've just asked, I would've modeled and stuff for you."

You shook your head slightly. You had wanted to keep this a secret if possible... At least Floyd seemed to be in a fairly good mood. You told him that you wanted to draw people in their natural state, without them posing for the "camera," so to speak.

He looked disappointed, but then immediately asked if you could come to a basketball practice or match or something. Perhaps you'd find it more interesting to draw him there. Or maybe in the ocean?

Vil Schoenheit

He was no stranger to people drawing him. He was famous after all.

He did sometimes get… odd pieces of artwork, but that was to be expected.

Still, he didn't expect to find a sketchbook with him in it, abandoned at an empty seat. Only drawings of him.

It had so happened that you were trying to figure out a good design for clothing. You always wanted to have a face to your designs, and he was the perfect subject.

Maybe your drawings didn't do him justice, but it was interesting to see how you could tweak your designs to fit him better.

Still, Vil was plenty impressed.

These designs... He could definitely see himself wearing them.

Maybe he could show them to one of the people he knew... They could help make something like that. With your permission, of course.

He closed the book as he heard you come up.

"These designs really are fascinating. Would you mind showing me more details? I'm certain that we can turn these drawings into reality if you'd like it."

As always, reblogs and comments are always appreciated! ♡ Send your thoughts grr

Feel free to send requests! Check out this post for info ^^

[vacayisland]

@!; Together. (That's all we need) Trollex / reader . . . art/writing trade with @greaser-wolf

"Tag list"! @storydays @chamille-trash @valvalentine69 @starzwithapen @ykvlanq @apieceofcathair3 @kitthefanfickat @cyb3r-st4r @esterphobic @nevaeh-jasso

ꨄ︎. You honestly wonder how you got here sometimes. It was an odd situation, on the way on how all the stars aligned to create a perfect path for you and Trollex. For as long as you could remember you were friends with him, and later Synth. For as long as you two remember it was a 'us against the world' type of friendship, where you all did the stupidest things together and managed to get away with it (most of the time). You remembered those days all too well, where you three would play at the edge of the reef and race to see who could get to the center first. Where you guys would ponder on ways to get that ever so special dessert of the Techno tribe, not even being able to name it yet. Where life was fun and exciting, a lot less working and a lot less everything in your face.

ꨄ︎. And sure, life is still like that, but everything seemed to turn upon it's head a few years ago; well, five years ago to be exact, when Trollex first told you that he loved you. Then two years later when you guys got married. You never had expected to become a ruler of the Techno Trolls, as you always knew the 'crown' would go to Trollex (by blood).

ꨄ︎. And adjusting to a new life was always hard, especially when it meant into the life of royalty, yet you both managed to stick through it together. Trollex showed you to ropes, explained some costumes, and walked you through everything. He still does, even after all these years,, and that's what makes you hesitant. You both have finally settled down, the reef is in such a serine state of calm (even after sending ambassadors over to the Pop Troll Village) that you didn't want to disturb the waters. No, no it was too soon for that to happen, way too soon!

ꨄ︎. But then again, Trollex deserved to know what was happening! You've both faced everything and anything together so keeping him out of the dark would be a first and probably will educe more anxiety than what you were feeling right now!

ꨄ︎. But waiting a little bit couldn't hurt, right? The thought echoed in your mind as you stared at yourself through a mirror, your eyebrows frowning as you noticed one of the two eggs peaking out from your hair. You would reach up and attempted to cover the egg again, a million thoughts racing through your mind. This would be the hardest part, to tell Trollex about his eggs. How do you even tell your husband about such a thing? Sure, you've been dreaming about this since a year into your relationship with him, yet the moment has come at one of weirdest times that it made you feel a little sick. Surely, Trollex would want kids- his kids! You've seen the way he's acted around the younger Techno Trolls, always so caring and goofy, it's what made you want to have kids in the first place. But-

ꨄ︎. But, but, but, but, BUT! Ugh that stupid word is ringing in your head too much lately, like it always does. It's what Synth liked to call my irrational word, as irrational thoughts always steamed from the word 'but'.

ꨄ︎. Irrational thoughts that were proven irrational time and time again... So I shouldn't listen to those thoughts! At least, that's what Synth would say and Synth is not here right now so I have to just think Synth to be able to have some sort of support. Just thing W.W.S.D.: What Would Synth Do? Which, in hindsight is really bad for most situations because the answer would be rave-

ꨄ︎. A RAVE!

ꨄ︎. Trollex will be DJing at a rave later today and had asked you to be his plus one, which wasn't surprising seeing as you are his wife (but a little goofy upon thinking how there's really no Techno Troll not invited to a rave; But you got a cute date with you husband so he could ask you, so that's a win). But, besides that, maybe you could tell Trollex during the rave? It would be the most low pressure situation, if you forget there are countless of eyes on you both up by the turn tables, but Trollex will be in a good mood. So telling him shouldn't be that stressful?

ꨄ︎. But you could ruin the rave by telling him there; Such as what if he doesn't want the kid and then completely stops in his DJing to stare at you in shock? Then what if he recoils back and slams into the turn tables, causing records to scratch and...

ꨄ︎. Maybe you should go see a therapist... but not now. Right now you had to figure out how to tell your Husband about the eggs that are literally growing in your hair!

ꨄ︎. Ha, no pressure!.. right?

ꨄ︎. Maybe you could have tried harder to tell Trollex about his children during the rave, or maybe you could have done better in masking your nerves during the whole party. You hadn't noticed how badly this was all getting to you despite the countless of Trolls who came up to you, asking if you were alright. One of those Trolls being your husband! He seemed extra worried about your sour attituded during the rave, noticing how you sat off to the side with a scrunched face. He knew that face, he knew it all too well; It was your pensive face, the face you only scrunch when you're in deep contemplation about something. And it worried him to see that you weren't partying like you usually were, as raves usually got you out of your pensive moods. It's what he usually did to help you shake out all the bad feelings, even if you two were at home and all you did was play music and dance around together. So if music wasn't helping than something was wrong. Really, really wrong.

ꨄ︎. And as your husband, Trollex was determined to figure out what it was to be able to help you! With having to pry it out of you.

ꨄ︎. "Alright alright!" Trollex's voice over took the blaring music as he turned it down, purposefully so he could be heard. The Techno Trolls on the floor would turn and face him, if they weren't already, confused on what was happening. The rave had just started! No way it was already over. But Trollex continued, "Don't worry, I'm just passin' off the booth to a good friend of mine and you guys can get right back to partying. I just wanted to introduce DJ Cupcake!" Trollex exclaimed, gesturing to one of his closest friends (out side of Synth and You) as they sawm up to the turn tables. He would nod, giving them a fist bump, before turning back to the Trolls. It wasn't common for Trollex to part from a rave, though it wasn't exactly uncommon either. So while there was questioning looks, no one bothered to ask Trollex about his sudden departure. They just hoped he would be alright. Funny, considering how he was hoping you were alright.

ꨄ︎. "Trollex, you didn't have to leave the rave because of me!" You would pull your wrists away from Trollex's hands as you two got home, causing him to whip around, startled. You hadn't realized the edge in your tone, nor how loud you had shouted at him so he would take a moment and stop! You didn't mean to, but you needed him to listen. "Starfish-" Trollex would start, hands drawing close to himself as he tried to formulate his words. "I was just worried, you seemed..." "You better not say moody, Trollex!" You snapped crossing your arms as you felt your body become rather on edge. Your brain was on edge. Trollex didn't know but during his rush to get you to your home, in privacy to talk, he had almost knocked out one of the eggs from his hair. Granted, you shouldn't be mad at him for that, seeing as he didn't know they even existed yet. But you couldn't help it! To think Trollex could be so reckless with young lives, it made you bitter despite your reasonable thoughts. "No, no! I wasn't going to say that at all... you just seemed pensive! Like in a seriously deep train of thought and we both know that's usually not good." Trollex backtracked, trying to save himself from your accusation. His face would scrunch a little, noticing how you shot daggers at him and how stiff your body was before you exhaled, allowing it to relax.

ꨄ︎. This only made Trollex alarmed, as he's never seen you like this before. Sure, he's seen you when you were pensive, in deep spiraling thought, but not when like this. This? This was something different.

ꨄ︎. But that didn't make you any less you and he wasn't going to run away from this problem because you were acting differently than what he was used to. Something was wrong, he had to be the husband you needed him to be right now; You needed a shoulder to lean on. And that's what he's going to give you!

ꨄ︎. Gently, as to not startle you or cause you to tense up again, Trollex would reach out and place his hands on your shoulders. He made sure you were comfortable with his touch first, then he slowly guided the two of you to sit on the floor. He didn't want to move to the couch or your shared bedroom, just encase. He needed to be gentle with you right now. "Hey, love, is... everything okay?" He would asked, being weary of his tone; He tried to keep it was soothing and gentle as possible, watching your body language for anything he could pick up on. Anything that would give him a hint as to what you're thinking. No matter how long it took, he would sit here with you until everything was okay again. You were his world, as he knew he was yours, and there was nothing he wouldn't do to make you feel better. As he expected, though, he didn't receive an answer straight away. And he was okay with that. He was glad you trusted him enough to lean your head against his shoulder and allow him to wrap his arms around your waist, silently comforting you through touch. That was something cheesy to be thankful for, especially after three years of marriage, but he was. It gave him some reassurance.

ꨄ︎. You two would sit on that floor, cuddled up in each other's arms, for what felt like (and what was) hours until you would tell Trollex what was bothering you. But Trollex didn't mind. His eyes would glance back at you upon hearing your small sigh, a relieving sound to his ears (as he knew you've come to terms with opening up with him). Trollex would softly rub your back, comfortingly drawing circles, as a silent encouragement. He watched as you chewed over how you were going to formulate your words for a few minutes before he heard your voice. "Trollex.. I have something to tell you." You would mumble out.

ꨄ︎. And he wasn't going to lie, that one sentence made his heart both flip and drop at the same time.

ꨄ︎. "You can tell me anything, you know that, right?" Though Trollex wouldn't tell you that, knowing you already had a lot on your plate. You would probably know later, anyways, when you two look back at this and laugh at it. "I kind of know I should have told you as soon as I found out," You would start, not helping with Trollex's nerves. He felt as you would squeeze your arms around his chest, and he would do the same in turn to your waist. "But I didn't want to ruin anything, with the reef suddenly being so calm after the Rock trolls attacked and Trollstopia starting and..." Your voice would trail off, to which Trollex would pick up, "Hey, hey.. you know it never matters what is happening out in the reef, yeah? Sure, Yeah, I'm their leader but that doesn't mean you're my second priority, Starfish. I'm here for you, okay?" You would nod your head against Trollex's shoulder, staying silent for a few more minutes. Was there any easy way to tell him? Should you just drop the bomb on him now? There wasn't getting around it anyways, so it would be best to be up front, right?

ꨄ︎. "Trollex.. we're having twins."

ꨄ︎. You would squeeze your eyes shut upon telling him, waiting for his reaction. It was the one thing that you were fearing, the one reason you were so scared to tell him about the twins, and now it was something you would have to come to face with. Though, after a minute of complete silence from Trollex, you couldn't help but fear for the worst. "Love?.." Your voice was shaky as you carefully leaned away from his shoulder to catch a look at his face; You needed to know what he was feeling, what was happening, was he freaking out like you had or was he disgusted or?!- You couldn't even see his face before Trollex shot his hands up to cup your cheeks, no longer holding your waist. The sudden movement caught off guard, even more so when Trollex face sudden came closer to yours than you remembered it being. Yet... he had the brightened grin on his face, and you swore his eyes were stars as he stared in to yours. "Tell me that again." He would whisper, the excitement pouring out of him from the truck load. You couldn't help but stifle a giggle, glad he was taking this news so well but also counting his request as slightly strange. Either way, you indulged him. "Trollex, honey, we're having twins..?"

ꨄ︎. You had seen Trollex overly excited before, hell even bouncing off the walls, but his over joyous attituded right now was something that bested all those times easily. You would watch as he was literally throwing fist bumps in the air, zipping around like a little guppy high on sugar while gushing all about how he wanted to be a dad. You were sure, if he could, Trollex would be shouting "I'm a father!" to the whole Techno Village despite not having seen his two eggs yet. "Honey, is this what you were worried for?" He would asked through his excitement, taking your hands to help you off the floor. You would giggle as he picked you up by the waist and began to twirl you around, his grin (which you adored so much) never leaving. "I'm sorry, I thought I made it so clear to you that I wanted a family! You don't understand how long I've waited to be able to have kids with you, and now you're telling me we have twins?? It's like a dream come true for a guy like me!" You couldn't help but laugh, your hands firmly on Trollex's shoulders so you wouldn't fall. All the worried you had gathered were quickly filtering out as Trollex pulled you close for a hug, unable to contain all the emotions that bounced out of him. "Honey, you haven't even met the eggs!" You would shout through your laughter, only knowing that Trollex would grow even more excited upon actually seeing his eggs.

ꨄ︎. And you were right. Despite being careful with them, making sure they wouldn't break and they were properly being heated, Trollex was even more esthetic about being a dad he could barely keep it to himself! You had to basically hold him hostage inside your home so he wouldn't shout to the world "I'M A DAD!", as you would like some privilege in having the two kids be a secret for at least a little. But, that then meant you had to deal with his excitement alone. A sacrifice you were willing to make. You would giggle and laugh every time Trollex hugged and cuddled you, nuzzling his head against your shoulder or neck or cheek, exclaiming how he was so lucky; Lucky not only to have kids, but that you were also their parent and you were his and he could not picture his life with anyone else!

ꨄ︎. It took a good few hours before his excitement would wear off, not fully, but to a manageable amount. By that time, you both were laying in your bed with the eggs in between you two. Trollex was just admiring them, like they were the most precious thing in his life, and you couldn't help but smile as you watched him. You weren't sure how you managed to get this lucky, but you were sure thanking everyone who managed to make it happen.

@!; BONUS LITTLE SNIPPETS (things that didn't make it into the full story as well as some 'after math')

ꨄ︎. One of the babies were named Starr, after 'Starfish', and the other was named Pier. Trollex literally adores these kids so much, if you don't stop him he (and his parents) will spoil them rotten while teaching them out to be good people?? You trusted Trollex's parents, you didn't even need to question their ways (seeing how great of a man Trollex ways), but you did have to put a restriction on how much they did spoil Starr and Pier. Mostly you had to restrict Trollex.

ꨄ︎. Trollex and you have a jar of baby names! You had forgotten you two had set up a jar to place slips with baby names in them so when you two did have kids, it would be easy to pick out names. Trollex brought out the jar not even two days after he met the eggs, claiming how they needed names! He couldn't keep calling them eggs and eggie. You two saved the names you didn't pick, took out the two you did, and saved the jar encase you had more kids.

ꨄ︎. Trollex couldn't go two weeks before he spilled the news! You were even surprised that you managed to tell his and your families, and Synth, before he gushed about being a dad while DJing at a rave. Funny, it was the one rave you didn't go to because you were going to spend time with your family! You weren't mad at him, you found it cute how excited he was about being a dad, but it was surely confusing when random Trolls began congratulating you. (He did tell you as soon as he found you and apologize for slipping up :( )

ꨄ︎. No one could buy your babies anything because Trollex was on it first! Man was working on the nursery no less than a week to two after he first bet the eggs, asking for your input and all. He would let you help, but nothing too straining because you were holding the babies in your hair. Literally built the crib and room from the ground up by himself, with you helping where you could. Though the next day his and your parents would come over, asking if there's anything they could help with to pitch in for the baby. As soon as the words nursery left their lips, Trollex just had to show them the room!! Their jaws were on the floor, literally. Didn't expect the nursey to be done so soon. Trollex was very proud of himself.

ꨄ︎. The type of dad to go all out for any holiday, even mothers/fathers day for you! And in turn you do it right back. Y'alls house is so festive and cozy and fun.

ꨄ︎. Synth is like an Uncle to the kids, despite not being blood related to you or Trollex. But not all family had to be blood related, and you had to explain this to the two when they realized that Synth is just a really good friend. Family is chosen, not forced.

ꨄ︎. Overall, he's such a fun and goofy dad!! Will do anything to protect you and the kids. You guys are always his number one priority!

.ᐟ this work is published and owned by @vacayisland. please do not plagiarize, copy, or steal this work; like, reblogs, and saves are appreciated :D

[the-golden-comet]

🌸✨OC Questionnaire Tag +bonus Character Voice✨🌺

Thank you for this tag @mysticstarlightduck here, a character voice tag here, more questions from @ominous-feychild here and @fantasy-things-and-such here✨

My questions:

How good is your sleep schedule?

Do you have any siblings? If so, how good is your relationship?

What was the toughest time you had to endure while growing up?

What was the worst day of your life?

What's your worst nightmare?

If a monster asked you your worst nightmare, what would you tell it and why?

"What's your relationship with your family like?"

"Do you have any hobbies? if so, what ones?"

"Do you dream often? what about?"

"What is the one thing you would not wish on your greatest adversary?

And answering the questions With this voice:

"(sighs, done with life) Alright, what did you do now?"

Guess who has the perfect OC to answer these? That’s right: Come on out, Tyr:

From In The Realm Of Giants

Sucks. Getting jostled around in a jar isn’t the most comfortable sleeping space. Go figure, right? (Glares up at Tav)

No. I’m an only child. Mom died when I was five, and Dad’s been overprotective of his only son. Heh….probably should’ve listened in hindsight…

Right after Mom died, we were grieving. Dad grieved a long, long time. He was so paranoid he’d lose me too, that he didn’t let me outside our cottage home for a year. I had to really fight hard to show him that I can be worthy of leadership, that I’m okay, and he doesn’t need to smother me. I passed all the trials and he still sees me as this defenseless child. I’m twenty-two now; I don’t need to have him breathing down my neck.

Losing my mother. How Dad sat me down, tears welled in his eyes, choking out that Mom wasn’t coming back. I felt lost…confused….angry. D-damn it….

(Glares up at the giant from inside the jar) I dunno, Tav. What IS my worst nightmare?

(still glaring, words dripping with venomous sarcasm) OH GEE, I DON’T KNOW, GUSTAV. What WOULD I tell you?

I love my dad and my village. Yeah, he can be a bit overbearing at times, but I can see why. I’m a rebellious little shit, and I caused a lot of trouble for him. And the village…I would die to protect my people. Oh Dad, I’m sorry….I hope everyone’s doing alright….

Besides not getting eaten by a giant? I did my trainings to get all my marks. I guess you can call those hobbies….? I passed my archery test for the Mark of the Snake, led a successful pack hunt for my Mark of the Wolf, and passed the fishing trial for my Mark of the Bear

Usually it’s nightmares about getting eaten alive….being abducted by this dumbass didn’t help that—H-HEY! Don’t jostle the jar!! Fucker, you did that on purpose!! I see you snickering!!

(Glaring up at Gustav so intensely the sun couldn’t burn him to the same degree)

G: …..Huh? What? I wasn’t paying attention. 🤷‍♂️

Whew! I’ll leave these same questions for anyone else who wants to answer, as little or as many as you want in any order! ✨

Tagging (no pressure): @finickyfelix , @illarian-rambling , @saturnine-saturneight , @rivenantiqnerd , @noxxytocin , @pixies-love-envy , @honeybewrites , @drchenquill , @theaistired , @aintgonnatakethis , @willtheweaver , @autism-purgatory , @gioiaalbanoart , @alinacapellabooks , @fortunatetragedy , @theverumproject , @kaylinalexanderbooks , @wyked-ao3 , @addicted2coke-theothercoke , @paeliae-occasionally , @sunglasses-in-the-bentley , @jev-urisk , @thatuselesshuman , @lychhiker-writes +open tag! ✨

[thetriumphantpanda]

I’m begging and on my knees🧎‍♀️ drunk make-up sex with Javier Peña with a dash of angst please

Have a nice day!

Anon, I see you on your knees. You can get up now because here you go! Thank you so much for sending this in, I hope you love it!

Pairing | Javier Peña x F!Reader

Word Count| 1.8k

Warnings | Explicit, 18+ Minors DNI. Not many warnings for this one apart from alcohol consumption, a dash of angst, Javi begging for forgiveness on his knees (Translation, oral sex (f) receiving) and unprotected PiV sex.

Part of my 1k Smut Sensation Celebration - if you want in, check here for details - I’m accepting requests through July 15th.

The empty bottle of wine on the coffee table is taunting you, just like the unopened second bottle of wine in your fridge is taunting you as well. The phone in the entryway is also doing a pretty good job of taunting you, begging you pick it up, dial his number and apologise, even though this had been all his fault. You sigh, pushing yourself up from the couch to go and retrieve the second bottle of wine from the fridge. Maybe another glass or two would be enough to knock you out so you didn’t feel the need to pick up the phone. 

You’re pouring the white liquid into your glass when there’s a soft knock at your door. For a moment, you consider ignoring it, thinking it’s probably only going to be your neighbour, knocking on your door for the third time this week because he’d forgotten an essential ingredient for dinner or wanted to complain about where you’d parked your car. You were likely to explode at him, so you take a large sip of the wine, wincing as it burns down your throat, your own fault for picking the cheapest option you could find, and take the glass and the new bottle to the couch. 

There’s another knock at the door, this time more insistent. You grumble, all you want is be left alone to wallow in your self-pity, so curse whoever this was that wouldn’t let you do that. In hindsight, you should have looked through the peephole in your door to check who it was that was disturbing you, but instead, you yank it open with a frustrated ‘what?!’ to be met with none other than Javier Peña. 

He's taken back by the venom in your words, swaying slightly as he steps back with his hands raised in surrender like he’s scared you might strangle him. It takes your alcohol-fogged brain a few seconds to realise he’s just as drunk as you are.

“Are you drunk?!” You exclaim, voice louder than intended because of the wine coursing through your veins. 

“Might be,” He shrugs, a lot calmer than you are when you’ve had a drink, “Think you might be as well.” He’s peering into your apartment, pointing a finger at the two bottles of wine on the table. 

“Jesus Christ,” You mumble, leaning forward to grab the collar of his leather jacket to drag him into your home, “Get in here before I get a noise complaint.” 

“Never worried much about those before, hermosa.” He grins as you shut the door behind him. 

“Shut up and sit down,” You demand, pointing to the couch, “What the hell are you even doing here?” 

This is when his exterior changes. Gone is that bravado and confidence you’re used to, that attracted you to him in the first place, replaced with aa nervous energy and a shifting in his seat. He leans over, picks up your wine glass and takes a hefty drink of it. 

“I miss you.” Is all he says. 

“Miss me?” You scoff, folding your arms over your chest, “You’re the one who left, Javier.”

“I did it to keep you safe.” He mutters. 

“Safe?” You ask, “Nothing about this fucking place is safe, Javier, you leaving probably did the opposite.” 

“I wasn’t talking about Colombia, querida,” He sighs, “I was talking about me.” 

You’re stunned into silence for a moment. If there was one thing you knew about Javier Peña, it was that this man in front of you, though capable of hurting most people, would never lay a finger on you. He’d never hurt you, apart from breaking your heart two weeks ago when he left without a word and didn’t bother calling. 

“I don’t…” You start, not being able to find the right words through the brain fog, “I don’t understand.” 

He’s standing now, walking slowly towards you to test the water as he speaks, “I’m not good at this,” He begins, “I’m not good at falling, I know I can’t be the man that you want me to be, the man I know you see when you look at me with your beautiful eyes,” He’s so close to you now, palm of his hand cupping your cheek, “I was only ever going to break your heart, hermosa, I just did it before it was too late.” 

“Then why are you here, Javi?” Your voice falters, head tilting into the warmth of his hand. 

“Because I can’t stay away,” He murmurs, “I want to be that man for you, I want to be better, I want to give you everything, to make you happy, God I want to try,” His face is inches from yours, you can feel hiss breath fanning across your cheeks, “Will you let me?” 

You don’t answer, instead, you push yourself up onto your tiptoes, wrap your arms around his neck and catch his lips with yours. He moves forward, pressing the breadth of his body against yours, one arm wrapping around your back to pull you even closer to him. You run your tongue along his plump bottom lip and groan when his mouth opens for you. It’s messy and it’s desperate and you’re both trying to drink each other in as much as possible. You because you’re scared he might pull away and leave again. Javi because he’s worried you’ll come to your senses and kick him out, just like he deserves. 

You taste the multitude of whiskey on his tongue, mixing with the taste of smoke from his cigarettes. It’s a heady mix and you’d missed it. You’re whining when he pulls away from you, trying to drag his face back to yours because you don’t think you ever want to be without his lips on yours again, but he’s dropping to his knees in front of you, and suddenly you don’t mind so much. 

“Forgive me?” He breathes, hooking his fingers into the band of your sleep shorts, dragging them down your legs to pool at your ankles, “Forgive me, hermosa.” 

Your hands are tangling in his hair, fingers running through the wayward locks. His mouth is so close to your core you can feel the heat of his breath fanning over your skin. He uses one of his wide palms to push gently at your stomach, leaning you back against the wall. Then, he takes hold of one your thighs, moving your legs to drape over his shoulder, the other firmly planted on the ground to keep you upright. 

You look down at him and he’s looking up at you, devilish grin painted across his face. He keeps his brown eyes locked with your own as his tongue flicks out and licks a perfect, wide stripe, up the seam of your pussy. Your head tilts back, hitting the wall behind you as a gasp leaves your lips when he does it again, this time letting his tongue dip between your folds to worship at your clit. 

You can feel his free hand spreading you for him, then his tongue is swirling fully over your clit and you’re crying out his name into the dark, tugging the hand that is tangled in his hair as you grind your pussy into his face. 

Javi could take you apart with military precision. In the span of a few short months, he’d managed to learn the exact movements of his tongue and fingers to get you off in record time. You can tell that this man is desperate to be inside you because his fingers are sliding through your slick and pushing into you with a ferocity you’re not used to. He’s relentless in his pace, curling his fingers up into you, hitting the spot that makes you sing, whilst his tongue is working quick flicks around your clit. 

“Fuck-” You groan, legs shaking as Javi has your hurtling towards the edge, “Fucking missed this.” 

His mouth pulls from your aching cunt just long enough to speak up at you, “Let go for me hermosa,” His wet mouth presses a kiss to your inner thigh, fingers still working in and out of you, “Come on my mouth.” 

His lips envelop your clit, there’s the pressure of sucking, the pressure of his fingers deep in your pussy, and the feeling of the tip of his tongue still running tight circles over your clit. Combine it all and you’ve got his name falling from your lips, orgasm slamming into you as Javi’s hands fly to your hips to keep you upright, mouth still working your clit through the aftershocks. 

Once he’s sure you’re not going to crumble to a heap on the floor, he’s standing, undoing his belt and tearing it through the belt loops in one motion. He unzips his jeans and pulls them down just enough to free his cock, before his hands are reaching around to pull you up. You wrap your legs around his waist whilst he pins you to the wall. His thick cock is buried inside you in one, swift thrust, and he doesn’t give you the usual time to adjust to him before he’s rutting into you, your back hitting the wall with every thrust. 

“I’m sorry,” He whispers into your ear, tip of his nose running along your jawline as he peppers kisses across your skin, “I’m sorry, hermosa,” His teeth are worrying at different inches of skin, biting and sucking until he leaves marks before soothing them with kisses, “Tell me you forgive me.” 

Your pussy is throbbing with every hard thrust he makes; you can feel yourself clenching around him. Your hands are gripping at his shoulders through the leather of his jacket and the angle of your position means he’s going to push you over the edge a second time. There is no way you couldn’t forgive this man in this moment. 

“Always,” You moan, “Always forgive you Javi,” Your hips are grinding down into his own to meet his thrusts, “Just don’t leave me again.” 

He leans his head forward, resting it to your forehead as he continues to fuck you, “Can feel you,” He mumbles, “Feel you getting tight for me, come with me?” 

You let out a high-pitched squeal at his words, as he picks up the speed. Neither of you are going to last long. It’s you that finishes first, fingernails dragging along the leather of his shoulders, your throbbing cunt clenching around his thick cock, which is all it takes for him to join you. You revel in the sound of your name falling from his lips as he fills you up. 

He manages to hold you up long enough to move you both back to the couch. He sits down, you still straddling his hips, as he brushes the hair from your face. His lips kiss at every inch of skin they can find along your face and neck whilst you catch your breath, “I truly am sorry, hermosa,” He speaks softly once you’ve recovered enough to look at him, “And I’ll spend as long as I need to proving that to you.” 

[mitskicodedwukong]

✨ REDSON, SIX-EARED MACAQUE, & SUN WUKONG WITH AN ADHD S/O ✨

» three-thirty (AJR) « 0:45 ─〇───── 4:07

╔⏤⏤⏤⏤╝🍑╚⏤⏤⏤⏤╗ AUTHOR'S NOTE ╚⏤⏤⏤⏤╗🍑╔⏤⏤⏤╝ ➤ This is reposted from my old account, @nothyenlowz :3 ➤ These are headcanons. ➤ This is romantic. ➤ Reader is afab & uses she/her! ➤ I don't think I went as in depth as I could have been I still hope it's accurate and you enjoy it! ➤ TRIGGER WARNINGS include profanity, a little bit of angst, and minor violence. ➤ Word count: 1,361

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

❝ You wanna skip it if it's wordy, but fit the whole song in three-thirty .❞

╔⏤⏤⏤⏤╝╚⏤⏤⏤⏤╗ REDSON 🔥 ╚⏤⏤⏤⏤╗╔⏤⏤⏤⏤╝

➤ before he finds out you have ADHD, i imagine he's confused by your behavior at best and frustrated by it at worst.

➤ your daydreaming and procrastination can be annoying for him, someone who's always about work, work, work. when you're talking to him about your fixations, he gets irritated because either he 1.) has no idea what you're talking about or 2.) thinks you're making fun of him since he often rambles about his inventions in a similar manner.

➤ he just doesn't understand why you're doing those things and neither do you. it causes a lot of struggles for you both initially, leading to shit communication and hurt feelings.

➤ when you're finally diagnosed, redson listens very closely. now your quirks are starting to make sense, but you still don't have as much information as he'd like. he researches ADHD in AFAB people rather meticulously on his own time (sometimes interrupted by his own anger at the lacking information for females), and by the end of it, he has a much improved understanding.

➤ and boy does he feel shitty. hindsight is 20/20 or something.

➤ the idea that he blew up at you for things out of your control makes him feel ashamed, especially when some of those things (like info-dumping) are signs of affection. so you don't see him for a while, partially due to some unhealthy self-punishment on his end, and also because he's trying to come up with a solution—that being a way to make it up to you, of course, not "fix" you.

➤ when redson stops avoiding you, he takes you out on a date with all your favorite activities and thoroughly apologizes to you. he promises to adjust his behavior to accommodate and support you.

➤ (which might have made you cry, considering you've always been treated like you're the problem.)

➤ true to his word, redson changes a lot. he leaves little notes for you as reminders, sets alarms for you, helps you finish or do tasks you don't have the energy for, etc. he even starts prompting info-dumping, reading up on the source material so he can ask questions.

➤ he also does his very best to educate himself on masking and burnout so he can a.) keep you from going there or b.) recognize the signs when you are there and help you. i like to imagine he made a sensory room for you that has all your favorite things and you can just go there to chill and unwind.

➤ he's also super protective over you. if people make fun of your stims, say you talk a lot, undermine your sensory issues, etc., he will DESTROY them. no way in hell is he letting you be disrespected like that. verbal smackdown, here we come.

➤ ultimately, it's a learning process. but it's one he's more than willing to thoroughly explore for you.

╔⏤⏤⏤⏤⏤╝╚⏤⏤⏤⏤⏤╗ SIX-EARED MACAQUE 🔮 ╚⏤⏤⏤⏤⏤╗╔⏤⏤⏤⏤⏤╝

➤ HONESTLY i headcanon macaque as autistic, so i feel like he had a feeling that you were ADHD before you did.

➤ probably made jokes like "it's the ADHD lol" for certain behaviors until you decided to do some research on it and were like "🧍‍♂️ yeah so—"

➤ not surprised at all when you're diagnosed, obviously. he uses the opportunity to show you coping mechanisms he's learned (though some have to be tweaked for your needs since autism isn't ADHD), and even begins to unmask more around you (which was inevitable anyway tbh, but it's easier now that he doesn't feel so different from you).

➤ since macaque thrives under routine/structure, he often handles reminders. he also keeps you on track, verbally and physically, if you have things to do. ALSO is super on you about eating, since he likes cooking.

➤ macaque's experienced dozens of burnouts in his long life, so he knows how awful they are. he can sniff out a burnout a mile away so i'd like to think that you don't experience many while with him because he's really good at pacing the both of you/being aware of your emotional and mental state. the dojo's pretty chill like 90% of the time due to his own sensory issues so it's a good place to unwind and relax.

➤ you guys have picked up so many phrases from each other. he'll be working on a script for a shadow play while you're cleaning and he'll just hear you laugh and go, "wow, didn't see that one comin'." it definitely flusters him that he's included in your echolalia.

➤ macaque rambles to you about theatrical pieces from various cultures. if you introduce him to new ones, tell him something he doesn't know about a piece he's already familiar with, etc. he'll kiss you istg. anyway this is to say the feeling is mutual and he probably ends up getting into some of the media/hobbies you tell him about!

➤ you guys mutually bully each other lmao. you'll be trying to do some work, get to talking to him about whatever comes to you, and then suddenly it's three hours later. you're like "FUCK" and he just laughs at you (you get him back, of course, and it's all in good fun).

➤ he barely thinks beating anyone who talks shit about you is an overreaction, but if you don't like it then you'll just have a clone stick around in your shadow or something to scare the shit out of anyone who decides to open their mouth to you.

➤ in summary, macaque is very helpful and teaches you coping skills when it comes to sensory issues + overload.

╔⏤⏤⏤⏤╝❀╚⏤⏤⏤⏤╗ SUN WUKONG 🍑 ╚⏤⏤⏤⏤╗❀╔⏤⏤⏤⏤╝

➤ first off, i headcanon Wukong as ADHD, too.

➤ with that said, i feel like Wukong just... assumed you knew you were ADHD and rolled with it.

➤ like you guys constantly quoted/repeated each other/shows and stimmed at/with each other. you'd get in loops. you'd adapt each other's phrases/stims. neurotypicals don't do that.

➤ it's genuinely amusing thinking about you two just repeating the same things at each other. it's such a serotonin boost and it makes you both laugh. same for when you stim together, especially hand-flapping and jumping up and down.

➤ you're both trash at remembering stuff but fortunately you seem to have an awful lot of capacity for the other—meaning you remind wukong he has a session with MK today because he forgot, and he reminds you that you agreed to make noodles with pigsy today because you forgot.

➤ i don't think remembering to eat or drink is a big problem for you, since wukong is a big comfort eater and shares his snacks with you so you kinda just... roll with it lol.

➤ wukong has a bunch of homemade stim tools. once he sees that you're interested, he makes some more for you. even after your diagnosis, you don't try "professionally" made stim toys—you just don't need them when wukong's work so well.

➤ you guys spend hours talking about your interests, ping-ponging off each other. like: "OH, did you know x?" "NO, but did you hear about x?" x1000.

➤ you guys also bully each other. "Hey Great Sage you forgot do the dishes again, you crusty bitch"; "says the dumbass who started folding laundry and then did a fashion show with the monkeys".

➤ like macaque, wukong's had his fair share of burnouts. unfortunately, he's not super good at preventing them or even realizing he's in them until it's been a few months, but you guys take care of each other if the other is struggling. you're also very aware of the other's limits so if one of you is pushing it, you can help each other step back.

➤ wukong learned a great deal of patience and mercy from his journey, so people being unkind to him doesn't really bother him. plus, he barely leaves his mountain as is—but if one of those times, someone doesn't to be a dick while you're stimming or something? best case scenario, he has some very choice words—worst case scenario, bro's taking it upon himself to remind the public why you should be more considerate of who you're snarking to.

➤ basically, nothing changes after you get diagnosed lol. you and wukong are very happy ADHD gremlins who are celebrating your neurodivergency :)

❝ I thought I had the ADHD, but that's a real thing (and I'm just lazy) .❞

[jiminjamms]

sex therapy :: 19. open up

chapter tags/warnings: dad! toji. angsty! megumi. strong language. classism. infidelity. manipulative undertones. naoya sucks ass.

word count: 3.6k

notes: thank you for waiting for this update! i was taking exams for some work-related licenses and started my big girl recently. i've also added more chapters to this series because i underestimated when i first planned out the fic. likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated. enjoy! xoxo

fic masterlist | 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33.

“Can...we talk?” 

At first, Toji blinked.  

Naturally, he wasn’t sure how to react to such a situation: his client, who he had assumed avoided him for weeks, now standing at his apartment door? This was new.

He didn’t quite understand how or why you ended up here at this hour, but he forced a worried smile. “Yeah, of course, we can talk.”  

When you first tried to speak, your voice only came out as a hoarse croak. So you had to clear your throat, and you forced words to come out again. 

“I’m sorry,” you managed to eke out.  

“Sorry?” Toji raised a brow in surprise. “For what?”  

Hesitating, you bit gently at your inner cheek. “If I tell you, can you please promise me you won’t get mad? Or judge me? I’m just...looking for someone to talk to, and I really, really need you to promise me.” 

In hindsight, that was a stupid question because you both knew that listening was his job, his profession, his field of expertise. Even with the minimal information Toji had gathered in these few seconds, he probably began piecing together your story on his own already. He was good like that—that was what made him your therapist, so there was no need to sugarcoat anything when he already read right through you. 

Still, Toji eased you with a sturdy nod. “Sure. I promise.” 

You didn’t even know where to start in this apology, frankly. You were sorry for doubting him, sorry for ignoring all the red flags he had pointed out about your husband Naoya Zenin. In the end, you were sorry for being so fucking stupid.  

The first time Toji had warned you about Naoya, you should have listened. Toji was the expert here, so how blind could you have been? There was nothing like the crushing realization when you realized for yourself that winning your husband back was nothing more than a pipe dream.  

Far before marrying you, Naoya had long loved someone else. Sure, ‘love’ may be a strong word, but why else would Naoya never want to be home? He could hardly find interest in you and became revolted when looking your way. He must have felt so wrong, so immoral, when cheating on his side-girlfriend for his wife.  

The way Naoya had spoken to you tonight just rubbed salt into the wound. Just shut up. Know your boundaries. Because you were just, in his words, a fucking ornament.  

His mistress sure wasn’t, though, and anyone could place the winning bet that he had gone off to spend the night with her.  

Why were you not enough? 

Was it because she was pretty and you were ugly? That she was smart and you were dumb? That she was funny and you were dull? Just...why? What was the reason? 

And, through thick swallows and blinked-back tears, you told Toji all of that.  

In one gusto, you have once again dumped all your troubles upon his shoulders. A horrible person, that was what you were—and knowing this, your gaze stayed low.  

From your rambling onslaught, Toji must be processing a lot but gave away no emotional indication. From his years at work, he probably had heard it all. 

You waited for Toji to retort with a pompous ‘I told you so!’ or burst into a disdainful laugh—that was how Naoya would have responded. But those reactions never came.  

On the contrary, Toji tapped his chest. “Come here.”  

You frowned over at him, brushing a stray tear from your chin. “What?” 

“Just get over here.”  

When you still wavered with reluctance, Toji pulled you tight against him—one hand firmly pressed against your lower back as the other guided your face to nestle by his shoulder.  

Not expecting this, you were initially stiff and awkward in his arms. Toji’s chest was hard and muscled rather than comfortable, chiseled from his frequent strength training sessions at the gym. But when he began to rub slow circles at your waist with one hand, the other running up and down your back in gentle strokes, something about these little gestures let all your emotions go. 

Slowly, you brought your arms up to wrap around him, hugging him in response. He was warm, his body like a furnace that heated your skin. You curled your hands into tight fists, grabbing the fabric of his T-shirt along with your hold.  

Then, like floodgates bursting, you melted into Toji with a sob.  

“What have I done wrong?” you wailed. “Why can’t I do anything right? What do I even do from here?” 

Toji listened silently as you continued to bawl, releasing all your anger and pain from the terrible weeks that you had endured. He squeezed you the tightest when you sobbed the loudest, comforting you with his ‘there there’ hums. 

“Everything will be okay,” he affirmed eventually, but his words seemed so difficult to believe. 

“No! Everything won’t be okay, Toji,” you cried and shook your head into his neck. “My husband doesn’t want me. Then, if Naoya doesn’t want me, the Zenins wouldn’t want me. Then, no one will want me!” 

“Not true,” Toji was quick to say. He pulled you closer, his large hands patting your upper back too. “Forget Naoya, he’s an utter jerk. He might leave you, but you know who won’t? At the very least, your father won’t—he loves you.” 

“But I would have disappointed him.” 

“How?” he countered sharply. “If he had known how his son-in-law was treating his daughter, why would your father be disappointed in you?” 

Between sniffles, you ruminated his points, half-convinced. 

Toji, breathing out, then added, “Also...I won’t leave you, either. I care about you. There. You’ve already got two on your side. You will not be alone.” 

“But then, what about,” you kept your lips pressed onto his collarbone, “What about the Zenins? Would they turn their backs on me too?” 

Underneath your fingertips, you could feel Toji tensing at the name. “With a family so large, there are bound to be those supporting you as well. You make it sound like all his aunts, his uncles, his...,” he paused briefly, “...his cousins, all worship Naoya when a household like that is rife with drama beneath surface level. Family isn’t family for something like the Zenins. Politics comes first. Business comes first.” 

His answer came out with such confidently that you silently questioned how he could be so sure. 

But you suddenly remembered the kind embraces from Mai and your heart softened at the thought of Maki. 

Maybe Toji was right. 

A soundless sigh flew from your mouth before your arms tightened around Toji's torso, hugging him and resting your chin on his shoulder. After several moments longer, you finally released one long exhale, your tears having stopped and your breathing less erratic. 

Your heart was like lead in your chest, but you pulled your face away from him.  

“I’m sorry,” you rasped, throat raw. “My makeup got onto your shirt.”  

Toji’s smile was soft. 

“That’s fine.” He couldn’t give a damn about his white top. Reassuringly, he ran his hands along your waist before settling on your hips, thumbs rubbing circles into your skin. “As long as you are feeling better, that’s all I need. Besides, that’s my job, yes?” 

“Yes...” you mumbled shyly, wiping tears from your face with the heel of your hand.  

At the sight, Toji reached toward a tissue box behind the door frame.  

“Don’t cry anymore. Naoya isn’t worth the heartache, I’ll guarantee you that.” He dabbed at your pretty face with the napkin in his hands, wiping away not only the remaining tears but also the stream of snot. Lovely. “I am your friend, okay? Before the therapist stuff. We will fix this, together. That’s what friends are for.” 

Friends. 

When Toji first called him your friend, you did not think that he would somehow become your closest confidant. 

You leaned into his touch briefly, sinking into the comfort of his palm. 

“Feeling better, princess?”  

Toji watched you with a chartreuse glimmer in his eyes before you finally pulled yourself from his grasp. His fingers flexed at the lost touch, almost like he was hesitant to let you go, but who was he to stop you? It wasn’t like Toji was your husband or anything. 

"I am,” you replied. “Thank you.” 

“Any time.” He hummed in the ensuing silence before stepping to the side. “Since you’re already here, why don’t you come in? I wouldn’t want you going back like this. Naoya won’t be home, so at least you will have some company here.”  

Tempting. 

“I really shouldn’t stay...” 

“What? Are you sure?” 

No, you were not sure, and Toji sure as hell knew that. 

He lolled his head toward the interior, a few of his black strands sliding across his forehead with the movement.  

“C’mon, I won’t bite,” he reassured before chuckling, “unless...you want me to.” 

You shot the therapist a glare, but the resolve to stay upset faded when you saw him gleam with a wide smirk. Well? that mischievous spark in him seemed to say. What do you think?  

Rolling your eyes, you initially snorted at the offer but could not help smiling at the stupid joke immediately afterward. Your body crumpled forward as you burst into giggles, realizing that this was the first time in weeks that you were...laughing?  

“Fine,” you relented. 

Toji seemed to beam in silent victory, which was cute coming from someone who looked so tough. He swept his arm in a gentle arc toward his apartment. 

“Then, after you, m’lady.”  

You gusYou gushed at the title.

"If you insist,” and you stepped in.  

The warmth from his condo was the first to greet you as though a fireplace had been crackling in the distance. For someone who somehow had the means to afford such a luxurious space, Toji went simple in his furnishings. His cream-colored walls were cleared, save for some framed art pieces that dotted the corridors, and there were no ornate cabinets or dazzling décor. His taste in minimalism and timelessness contrasted with the grandeur in your palatial-like residence, but both styles had their appeal. 

He had a gray and beige color scheme going on with the couches, the tabletops, and the lighting fixtures. The walnut wood flooring added a rustic touch to the apartment, and every corner effortlessly converged refined aesthetics with the sense of home. Even the smell inside was cozy because the apartment emanated of him—of Toji himself: spices with the redolence of bergamot and sage.   

He guided you through a (very wide) hallway that opened into an equally expansive living room. Towards the side was a spiral staircase that led to an upper floor and, further ahead, floor-to-ceiling windows opened to an evening panorama.  

The sky was completely dark, with the sun sunk below the horizon long ago, and the waxing moon hung like a silver sliver far away. Holding your breath, you stepped towards the glass, observing the bustle far below that twinkled like firecrackers against the concrete backdrop.  

“You know, your place...is a lot nicer than I expected.” 

The man tucked his large hands into his front pockets. “I’m offended.”  

Instantly, you grew flustered. “No, I didn’t mean it like that!” (Yes, you totally did.) “It’s just that Sukuna had made it sound like—” That you were dirt poor. “But then Geto said...” Okay, you shouldn’t be dragging more people into this. “Never mind.” 

Quickly, you glanced back outside again, hoping to look like you were distracted by the vista. 

“But then Sukuna and Geto said what?” Toji pried, not letting you live this down. He appeared uncharacteristically intrigued. He wanted to know what his coworkers had spilled, by how much you knew. “What have the other therapists said about me?” 

“Ah, nothing much really,” you confessed, which was the truth to some extent.  

“How much is ‘nothing much?’” 

“Just, well,” you rolled your lips together in thought, “maybe that something, some event, or some person wronged you.” Geto’s words rang fresh in your head. “That ‘Toji just isn’t where he could possibly be.’” 

Half-expectantly, you looked over at the said man from under your lashes, waiting for him to comment on the matter. Toji always appeared so hesitant to talk about his past, but you hoped that he would stop being so mysterious. It was as though he was an enigma for cautious reasons, assessing how much he could open up before he could entirely trust you. 

Toji had pursed his lips as the silence in the living room became uncomfortable. But just when he appeared ready to speak, someone else filled the silence for him. 

“Why the hell are you here?” 

All heads turned to a frowning teenager who stood by the foot of the stairs.  

He had dark eyes—dark eyes glared only at you, narrowed into a violent abyss as though he was mentally aiming daggers into your soul. For a fleeting moment, you were puzzled at who this boy was until Toji spoke first. 

“That’s no way to greet a guest, Megumi.”  

Oh, right. Toji had an eighteen-year-old son, and Megumi was his name. While you had spoken with the teenager on the phone before, it was different to see him in person for the first time. 

For starters, the physical similarities between father and son became immediately apparent. Sure, Toji’s features had a rough edge around them—shaped from his additional years in life—but the two shared the same black stands, pointed noses, and taut lips. There was no denying the flawless genes that flowed between them. 

Megumi, though, had a subtle softness to him. The teenager was smaller and shorter compared to his imposing and rugged father, but he tried to mask that youthful innocence instead with his brash style. He pulled off that ‘wild’ look better than most boys his age could, his hair longer and more tousled. The way he stood in a contrapposto, coupled with how stylish he appeared in his fuchsia tee and black cargo pants, made him look like a model from a streetwear magazine. He reached for an ear piercing with fingers adorned with flashy rings, toying with one particular stud as he examined you.  

Goodness, Megumi Fushiguro was as good-looking as Sukuna had hyped him up to be.  

“Well?” the boy’s irritated voice snapped you back to the present. “What are you doing at our apartment?” 

“Oh, me?” You pointed to yourself. Well, no shit. Who else was he talking to? “I, um—” 

“You’re another one of my dad’s women, aren’t you?” the teenager asked out of the blue, leaving you staring at him dumbly. 

“One of your dad’s who?” 

“Hey!” Toji warned, tone sharp. Frowning at the boy, he reprimanded him with one forceful thwack. Dad Toji was very different than Therapist Toji. “Watch what you—" 

“You’re the one who called me down here!” Megumi shouted back, pushing his father’s arm away.  

“Yes, I did. So what took you ten minutes to get here?” 

“I was in the middle of Valorant. I left my team mid-game but for this?” 

And suddenly, there was this thick and awkward tension that engulfed the room. If you had the magical ability to teleport at will, you would. Toji was obviously distraught at his son’s outburst and Megumi was similarly bristled by your presence.  

About you? Well, there wasn’t anything you could do. 

You took a few steps back. It was unsettling to be caught in a heated confrontation between father and son, and you silently wondered if you should just slip away to let those two sort out their miscommunications. 

“So, this is your new strategy, huh?” Megumi seethed vehemently toward his father, capitalizing upon the silence. “Telling me that Nobara and Yuuji are here only for you to introduce me to, out of everyone in this world, her?!”  

The attack felt personal when Megumi raised his arm and pointed squarely at you, even if the boy glowered at his dad instead. You had frozen, stopped by confusion, as Megumi continued in anger: “What is the meaning of this!” 

Toji, who was returning his son’s glare, glanced at you briefly. He didn’t show this side to him very often: the one where he was just a single dad, handling a moody teenage son at home.  

You wondered if Toji felt weird that you were watching him deal with Megumi’s tantrum. At least, he must be embarrassed that this was how your first encounter with Megumi was going, but he didn’t offer much into his internal dialogue because he clenched his teeth, his eyes sliding slowly to his son again.  

“Megumi,” Toji started, “please...don’t point at people. That’s not nice.” 

His voice was sterner than before, but the boy responded with a dramatic scoff. 

“Nice?!” Megumi repeated. “You want me to be nice to her? Is this some sick joke?!” His face twisted with disbelief. “With all the horrible crap that had happened to us, what good thing has she ever done? Just because she’s pretty, and suddenly, you’ve forgiven her for everything?” 

You blinked, stumped. 

Forgive you? 

Why would Toji need to forgive you? 

Perplexed, you turned to Toji but he did not meet your gaze. 

“There is nothing to forgive her for. She hasn’t done anything wrong,” the older man defended, but Megumi wanted to hear none of this. 

He was out for blood. 

“That’s because you’re too fucking infatuated to see the demon she is,” he huffed, voice laced with bitterness. “Dad, I wish you would put your goddamn brain to use and stop thinking with your dick first.”  

“Language!” Toji snapped with a roar. “She’s our friend!” 

“Friend, my ass! I don’t like your fucking friends!”  

With eyes blown wide, Megumi clenched his fists so tightly that his hands began to shake.  

“I just...I just can’t believe you,” and when his voice cracked, there was pain that bubbled from the frustration. “I already told you that I don’t want to meet whoever you are bringing home. Just stop trying so hard for my sake. This hurts me, and this also hurts you. Can’t you see that, Dad? Nothing’s going to bring Mom back! I’m over that, alright?” His Adam’s apple bobbed when he gulped, though, before he finally added: “And I’m tired!” 

At that, Megumi walked—correction, stormed—away. 

“Fuck this shit,” he spat and marched up the stairs, grumbling more profanities upon his climb. 

The footsteps’ volume started to fade, but not before a loud bang startled you when Megumi slammed his bedroom door shut, the entire apartment seemingly shuddering with the sound. 

Beside you, the Toji that you had always known—the snarky man who always seemed so unruffled by even the wildest moments—crumbled a little when he sighed. He rubbed his face with a free hand, sinking his forehead into his palm as he muttered indiscernibly. 

He collected himself he turned back around to you, but you saw that his shoulders sagged with an invisible weight, the emerald glimmer in his eyes now a dim flicker. Within ten minutes, Toji had grown to look stressed and incredibly tired. 

“Hey,” Toji started, his voice impossibly small for a man as large as him. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sorry that you had to see that. He’s usually a good kid. I’ll talk to him again later.” 

You bit your lip.  

“Oh, um...Well...That’s okay,” you eventually replied, which was a total lie because that was not okay. Even as you offered a small smile for support, Megumi—his words, his tone, his ferocious glare—slashed at your heart. You rationalized his behavior aloud to ease your own pain. “Megumi’s eighteen, and you know what teenagers are like: hormonal with their mood swings all the time. You are a great father, Toji. This isn’t your fault.” 

“No. This is my fault,” he replied very quickly.  

Oh. So instead you said: “I get it.” 

“Except you don’t get it.”  

Your heart sank at his words, realizing that you truly did not understand where this father-son conflict stemmed from. Was it...was it because of you? 

You never intended to burden anyone, yet your mere existence appeared to be doing just that. 

It was painful to see Toji like this. During your lowest lows, he always offered considerable comfort and renewed confidence, but you weren’t sure what to say to provide him with the same. By some weird twisted fate, Toji now needed you more than you needed him. As a therapist, he had a special soothing effect, and never have you so badly wished for the same. 

“Then,” this time you were more careful with your words, “Then, help me understand. Help me so that I can then help you.”  

Tone resolute, you longed to learn about the unspoken difficulties that Toji had been facing by himself. While you had your troubles, he must have had many more for his son—not even Toji himself—to act this way.  

Perhaps you also cared for him more than you thought because, as he noted himself, he’s your friend. 

Toji held a long inhale, thinking and thinking and thinking, before breathing out in one audible go.  

“Where do I even start?” 

last chapter || next chapter

end notes: I loved fleshing out our relationship with Toji from a channel to mutually release sexual frustrations to a friendship built upon shared vulnerabilities. Also, Megumi is very much in his emo and rebellious teenage era. Like most people his age, he has his reasons…

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[faededaway]

ᴛᴀɪꜱʜɪʀᴏ, FATGUM BNHA (ᴍᴏᴅᴇʀɴ ᴀᴜ!) ꜱᴇʟꜰ ᴅᴇꜰᴇɴꜱᴇ ɪɴꜱᴛʀᴜᴄᴛᴏʀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ. [18+ ɴꜱꜰᴛ] [ᴛᴏᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴘʟᴏᴛ, ɢᴇɴ ɴᴇᴜᴛʀᴀʟ]

It only takes one small incident to realize how fragile life really is.

Well, in hindsight, that wasn't a small incident. A short incident, yes. Maybe a 5 second thing. But stabbing someone's artery doesn't take that long and that's a fatal incident.

You'd been at a random house party that night. It'd been really late. Around 3AM or so. People were doing random things to entertain themselves. Someone suggested a competition of strength. A puts B in a headlock and B tries to free themselves.

It sounded fun. Everyone spread out in a circle, leaving room in the middle.

For the first few pairs, it was fun. You remember losing your breath from laughing at one guy's attempt to tickle their opponent to make them give up.

But when you recall your turn, your shoulders tense up and a shiver crawls up your spine.

Your opponent towered over you, your face coming up to his chest; his arm had been bigger than your face. You passed out on it quicker than you could call for help. Thankfully, it wasn't a drinking party. Many people were sober enough to rush over to your aid. It had taken four people to pull him off of you. Apparently, the big guy had had too many shots. He didn't mean to use so much strength and he didn't know you'd be so weak.

When you came to, you'd yelled in a panic; scared of anyone touching you. You'd been given space until you calmed down enough to recognize your friend (who then took you home). Even in your room, you'd been shaking in your bed. The trauma kept you up even after your friend had fallen asleep by your feet. You decided to never let this happen again.

Once the sun rose, you'd gone to your local gym and signed up for self defense classes. You didn't look too hard at any details. You were too shaken to care. The only thing that mattered to you was the need to be able to defend yourself from above mentioned situations. (Well, you looked hard at the billing details but skimmed over every thing else).

And now, 2 month later, you're here.

“We've gone over quite a lot the last few weeks. Today, I want to test your understanding of it. We will perform some example scenarios and you will try to defend yourself. Okay?”

Taishiro, your instructor, says to you as he lays out the safety mats.

It's been nice so far. Every lesson has made your shoulders less tense. You sleep better and flinch less. There's also another thing that Taishiro has helped you with.

He is huge. Huge like, 'probably hauls lumber for fun' or 'is a strong man competitor'. He is bigger than the guy who choked you; but he laughs after he sneezes because it tickles his nose and carries a We Bare Bears flask. Taishiro helped you remember that not all big guys were douchy or scary.

When he doesn't hear you reply he explains, “I use the word perform because I want you to remember I am only acting. And Itsuka is on standby. She will rush over any time you feel uncomfortable. Okay?”

You shake out all the little distractions in your head and look over to Itsuka who waves at you from her bench. You look back to Taishiro and give him the go.

Today, he's doing short one-on-one sessions with every student in class to provide catered lessons. It's not your first time doing this.

The introductory class had been similar. But seeing how similar he looked to your perpetrator made you freeze in fear. Itsuka had to step in to comfort you. He hadn't attempted anything after that. He knew there was a more pressing issue that needed attention. So he spent 20 minutes of every following class talking to you to make you more comfortable around him.

You're more than comfortable with doing this with him now.

“I walk up to you an' grab your wrist. What do you do?” he narrates as he performs. You think it's to put you at ease. You look up at him and smile. Easy.

“I raise the arm he grabbed to my face, palm side up, and grab his wrist and twist it away from me using the strength of my hips." You narrate and perform as he did.

He moves before you wearing a satisfied smile, "yes! Just remember the perpetrator won't always be male."

You can't help but grimace at his comment. He's right.

And so you continue this way for the next 15 minutes. He gives you feedback when you are unable to do some of the maneuvers and you repeat it until you get it right.

After a while, he changes the pace. "Let's try some maneuvers we haven't practiced yet. I want you to try to use the same principles and see if you can figure out what to do."

He stands behind you once again. but unlike before, he doesn't narrate anything.

"So what-"

Before you can complete your sentence, you find yourself laying on your stomach, your face pressed to the mat. Panic rushes through your body but subsides when you hear him speak, "the biggest challenge of self defense classes is to make you understand how the maneuvers work. I won't attempt anything else. Talk to me and think on how you could escape."

You take a minute to regain your breath. You try to think about your current position. Your hands lay on your side. His body isn't touching yours in any way. He is holding himself above you with his arms. In this situation, "I think I should turn on my side so I can use both my hands. Maybe I can crawl away from under you?"

"Let's try it. I won't change my position, so you can work this out." True to his words, he holds still while you try to free your arms.

When trying to lift yourself up to turn to your side, your back grazes against his torso. Even through your layers of clothes you feel his firmness. Steeling your thoughts, you focus on crawling out from under him.

"You've done so well," your face flushes when you hear his praise. You shake it off, just nerves.

He sits up and helps you do the same. Passing a towel over to you, he asks, "how are we doin'? How's your comfort level? Are we okay to continue?"

This new exercise wasn't too bad. It made you think about how real life situations would be much more unexpected. No real perpetrator would follow a script or pull 5 of the 'basic self-defense moves'. You needed to know more. You tell him as such. Eager to learn more.

"Okay, we'll enact a similar situation again. You'll lay on your stomach and the perpetrator will cage you again. This time I'll be closer to you so you have less space to work with. Okay?"

Determination fills your face as you get into position, "okay. I can do this."

A second later, you feel his warmth on your back. You feel your face heat up again; this time, the heat travels down to your stomach. You hear his voice right in your ear, "so, what can we do now? There isn't as much space as before. You may have to push me away to be able to free your arms."

His words come to you slowly. The alluring tone not matching the words being spoken. You shake your head and take deep breaths. Doing so makes him move away from you, "or we can stop here. We have done quiet a lot."

You nod. Maybe he's right.

"I'd suggest a warm shower. There should be a few empty stalls for you to use," he says as he stands up and holds a hand out to help you up again.

Warmth from his hand runs up your arm and you have to resist the urge to rub it. "Wh-, what are you doing now," you try to distract yourself by making conversation.

This tone of your question makes him pause before replying, "oh I have another student coming in 30 minutes. Gonna wipe down the mat and get ready for them."

"Oh! Let me help you," you attempt to bend over to roll the mats but he interrupts you.

"Don't worry. It's part of my routine. Helps me prepare," he smiles before waving you off.

You smile back and stumble over your feet on your way to the stalls.

Taishiro has been a self defence instructor for years now. Students often have some unintentional reactions to being very close to someone. It's natural. He's learnt to accept this. He knows how to deal with such situations.

Similarly, sometimes, he can't help how his body reacts to certain student's reactions.

He didn't lie to you when he said he has to prep for the next student. He does! He just didn't mention that the student arrives in 2 hours and 30 minutes.

He waits for Itsuka to take her leave before walking into the gym locker. He needs a cold shower.

You've grown wonderfully under his tutelage. He was worried you'd be too scared to continue his lessons. He wanted to refer you to a different instructor. But with Itsuka's help, you came around. He's glad you stuck around.

He has a soft corner for you. People are scared of him often. You have a solid reason to be scared, but to him it looks like you are trying your hardest to move past that fear. You want to be comfortable with him.

With every passing day, he grows more attached to you. Wanting you. Watching you more carefully. Maybe, being a little lenient with your late arrivals.

He can't help it. He doesn't want to upset you. He loves seeing your eyebrows wrinkle when you smile from ear to ear after learning a new move. He loves seeing your tensions fade away slowly. He definitely loved watching you bend over to-

Ah, darn. He needs the shower bad.

When he walks into the locker room, he hears a shower running.

He'd forgot he'd sent you in here.

Well, a stall further away should do.

He makes his way over to the end of the room but the sound of things scattering in your stall stop him.

He freezes. He holds his breath to try to hear you pick up your things or to hear you make some noise of acknowledgement.

When he hears nothing of that sort, he inches closer to where you are. He stops when he's close enough to put his head on the door.

He almost asks you if you're okay but sucks back his breath when he hears you.

He hears soft, frustrated cries that almost sound like sobs. Your breathing is erratic, frantic.

His knuckles tap on the door before he realizes, “darling-”

That same moment, he hears a high pitched moan from the other side. He immediately realises what the previous noises were and changes his question more befitting to his current inquiry.

“-if you need a hand, I'd love to lend you mine.”

Your breath hitches. He hears you still.

This moment, you being heard by the person that caused the predicament you're trying to take care of and then offering to help you, is something you would have never imagined.

Many questions come to your mind. But the most pressing one was, could you pass up this chance? Your hands move before you can weigh your options. You let him in.

He moves in without a second's delay. The space so crammed, his hands immediately cage you to the wall. His stomach touches your bare one. His eyes gleam as they catch the sight before him.

He looks at you once again, “thank you for letting me in. Believe it or not, I need your help too."

You reach out to touch him, He still has his clothes on but you can feel his hardness. An elusive moan escapes you, making him moan too.

"Darling, you sound so sweet," he looks into your eyes when he asks, "I want to touch you. Show me where I can touch you."

"Everywhere." And you mean it.

Feeling his body in your hands makes you crave his touch on yours. His big hands come down to your waist, still shying away from somewhere more intimate. You take his hand and pull him closer to you.

"Oh, darling, I want to kiss your skin,"

You hurry to get his clothes off of him, wanting to be closer to him, but your hands stop at his waistband. His hands cup yours, “go on, darling. Take 'em off. See for yourself what you do to me.”

A moment later, his thick cock springs free. And you choke on a moan.

He's thick, yes, but oh god. His thick cock is heavy and curls a little inwards. His tip is blush pink, his heavy balls have curtains that match his drapes.

Your hands palm his soft bush, he seems to like you doing that because, “oh, darling, love your hands on me.”

His hands move, too. His thick fingers glide across your skin, squeezing every bit of softness he felt.

Both of you are here, in this situation, without much thought. Yes, you're here because you need each other. But, how far will you go, here, in this gym stall?

“I said I'd lend a hand so, let me continue what you were doing, alright? Let me use my hands to please you.” Thankfully, he thinks the same thing you do.

You nod your head, “can I do the same for you?”

He shows you his billion watt smile and touches your forehead with his, “please do.”

You wrap your hand around his girth, the warmth of him bleeding into your hand. His hands reach for your warmth.

The two of you moan at first contact, soft giggles following the shared pleasures.

“Guide me how you need me, 'aight? I wanna be good to you.” A hand of his cups your face when he speaks to you, you feel his earnestness through his touch.

You nod wanting to say the same to him, a hand of yours running over his chest and his stomach.

He hums in approval, you hum too.

He ruts into your hand when you slow your pace and squeeze him tighter. You rut into his hands when he does the same to you.

You look into each other's eyes, glances stolen towards the other's lips. He leans in when you do, first kiss turns into three, four, and more.

You dance in sync until the sound of the water running fades into the background and the heat of your bodies keep you from feelings its cool.

Your come together, moaning into the kiss. His lips pull away from yours to better hear the sweet sounds that first lulled him in. Too caught up in consuming your ecstasy, he can't stop himself from cumming on your stomach. His cock throbs as it releases on your skin, some of it reaching up to your chest.

“Oh, shoot, darling, I'm sorry. Made a mess on you like this.” His apology is said through grunts and panting breaths, but you hear his slight shame. You giggle and shake your head at his comment.

Only difference with your mess is that his hand is big enough to contain it all in his palm. “Maybe you can give me a hand to do what I ought to be doing in here before, you know.”

His grin is wider than yours when he says, “lend me a hand too.”

With a finger you lift some of cum off of your chest and being it to your lips, “Mmm, of course I will.”

You're lucky Taishiro is a man with a strong will and an adult's libido. He chuckles at your display and shakes his head, “help me clean up so we can do this the proper way. I take you home, feed you a meal, and then we talk on how far this lending hand business goes.”

[END]

[wosoimagines]

Hoodie - Leah Williamson/Reader

part one | part two | part three | part four

prompt: Leah and Reader’s relationship is still building up together. And more people are catching on.

warnings: none

words: 3936

(Y/N) POV

“Shit! Shit,” I muttered as I threw the clothes from my bag. I could have sworn that I brought the hoodie with me for this camp. Especially since we were going to be in New Zealand.

“You okay there, (Y/N)?” Kristie asks as she comes into our room. “Oooh, that’s a mess.”

“Shut up, Kristie.”

It wasn’t here. Leah was going to kill me.

“What are you looking for?”

“My hoodie.”

“Your US one is right there,” Kristie said as she pointed at the chair behind me.

I glanced over my shoulder to look at the hoodie. It was my blue USWNT hoodie, but it wasn’t the one I was looking for.

“No, this one isn’t a team hoodie,” I said as I shook my head. I had to find the hoodie. “It’s a forest green hoodie. It’s got patches on it. Been adding patches to it whenever we go somewhere for camp.”

“You mean the one like Sonnett is wearing?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Yeah, Sonny’s wearing this green hoodie. It’s got a Hellfire Club patch, an astronaut on a skateboard, a penguin, there’s a couple of memes.”

“Where’s Sonnett?”

“Why do I feel like I shouldn’t answer that now?”

“Kristie! My hoodie! It was a gift!” I snapped. I knew what the hoodie had come to represent for me. For someone other than her to wear it was wrong. “I don’t want anyone else wearing it!”

“Um, I think she went out to get ice cream with some of the others.”

I was immediately rushing out of the room. The last thing I needed was for any pictures of Sonnett to make it to social media in my hoodie.

“I can’t talk right now,” I said as I answered my phone.

In hindsight, I should have looked at the caller id, but I had been too busy trying to dodge the people on the sidewalk.

“Why is Emily Sonnett wearing the hoodie?”

“Shit.”

“Why is Emily Sonnett wearing the hoodie?”

“Look, Leah, she probably came into my room and stole it. I’m literally headed to the ice cream shop right now so I can get it back,” I said softly. I knew that it meant more to Leah than being just some present now. “I would have never let Sonnett take it. I wouldn’t let anyone else wear it but you.”

“You promise?”

“I wouldn’t lie to you. Not to you.”

Leah went quiet on the other end of the line.

“Just get it back, yeah? And you have to add an extra patch.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to choose one for you. I’m almost there, so I’ll text you when I get it back, yeah?”

“You better.”

I grinned as I hung up the phone. At least Leah was still going to be talking to me. I made my way into the ice cream shop and it was easy enough to spot the girls. They were the largest group in the shop after all.

“Give me the hoodie.”

The girls all looked up at me as they froze.

“Sonnett. The hoodie.”

“Oh, come on!”

“Hey,” I said as I slammed my hands onto the table. “It isn’t yours. You didn’t ask to borrow it either.”

“If I had, would you have said yes?”

“No! Because it’s my hoodie! And it was a gift! It means a lot to me.”

Sonnett grumbled as she started to pull the hoodie off.

“I don’t see why it’s such a big deal.”

Mal shrunk back as I glared at her. Of course none of them would, because I refused to tell them.

“Sorry,” Mal said as she held her hands up.

“So, what is the story behind the hoodie?” Sanchez asked.

“Nothing that concerns you,” I said as I sent a glare her way as a warning. I turned my glare back to Sonnett since Sonnett had been begging to borrow the hoodie since she saw it in my social media posts. “Take the hoodie again, and you’ll never step on a pitch again. Got it?”

Sonnett gulped as she quickly nodded her head.

“Good.” I smiled as I patted the side of Sonnett’s face.

I held the hoodie in my hands as I headed out of the ice cream shop. I made a point to post a picture on my Instagram story with the hoodie in my hands to show that I had it back. I knew that it might spark some new dating rumors since Sonnett had obviously been seen wearing it on social media.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You were supposed to text me that you had the hoodie back.”

“Yeah, I got distracted. Saw a patch in a store that I wanted to get.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Too bad that you’ll just have to wait to see it until I get back unless I take good pictures in the hoodie in between games.”

“(Y/N), that’s no fair.”

I grinned at the whine. It had quickly become a thing for Leah and I to grab a patch anytime that we were traveling for the hoodie.

“Did you get any new patches? I know you were playing in Milton Keynes,” I said. I knew how excited Leah had been about getting to play where she grew up. “It seems cool getting to play where you’re from.”

“It was amazing. I wish you could have been there,” Leah said. My grin only grew at that. I would have loved to be at the game, but I had my own national team duties. “The game was amazing. We won! 4-0.”

“I saw,” I said as I thought back to their game. “Still makes me pissed that Man Utd. refused to let Alessia transfer to join us at Arsenal.”

“Tell me about it. You know, I’ve been trying to get the team to replace this one forward we have,” Leah started off. I shook my head at that. “You might know her actually. She’s this really cocky American. Thinks she’s better than everyone else.”

“Maybe she is?”

“Oh, my God,” Leah gasped, causing me to chuckle. “It’s almost like I can hear her right now.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Leah giggled at that but I scratched the back of my neck. My grin had fallen in less than a second and was replaced with a frown.

“Hey, Lee?” I asked, causing Leah to hum to let me know that I had her attention. “You don’t actually want the team to replace me, do you?”

“No, I don’t,” Leah assured me. I softly smiled at that. “You might still be a little too cocky in my opinion, but you aren’t that bad... Usually.”

“Usually?”

“Yeah, usually. You got a problem with that?”

“Maybe just a bit.”

There was a knock on the door causing me to raise my head. I looked up as Kristie stuck her head into the room.

“Hey, we’re about to check out,” Kristie announced.

“Thanks,” I said as I smiled at her. “I’ll be right down. Let me just say bye.”

Kristie nodded as she closed the door again. I got up from my spot on the bed. I was wearing the hoodie with two new patches on it. I started to move to grab my bags.

“I gotta go.”

“Yeah, I should probably go too. Kiera’s been bugging me to go out with her at some point today.”

“Leah! You shouldn’t ignore your friends just to call me.”

“I just wanted to hear your voice,” Leah said. I didn’t need someone else to point out how all the blood rushed to my face as I blushed at that. “And to tell you that you did good against Canada. I know you take those games personally.”

“Yeah, well, when they’re the reason you break your leg right before the Olympics, it becomes a little personal.”

“Yeah, but they’re always physical against everyone.”

“You’re more than welcome to put on one of our jerseys and play against them. See just how physical they play when it’s us out there on the pitch.”

“I think I’ll stick with the three lionesses on my jersey, thanks.”

“Yeah, whatever. Look, I really should go. I wouldn’t put it past Vlatko to leave me stranded to prove a point. I’ll text you later though?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Did Katie give you this one?” Leah asked. I looked up from my spot at the island to see that she was pointing to the orange juice box patch that had been added to the hoodie. “Tears of my enemies?”

“No, but I’m sure she wishes.”

“Also, a QR code? Where’s it lead?”

“I guess you’ll just have to scan it to find out,” I shrugged.

Leah rolled her eyes at that. I watched as she headed back to the living room. It wasn’t long though before I heard the song playing through the house.

“Seriously!” Leah’s voice echoed over the song. I couldn’t help as I laughed at her as she came back into the kitchen. “You Rickrolled me?”

I only shrugged at it. Leah scoffed as she shook her head. She turned her attention back to her phone.

“Hey, do you mind if some of the national team comes over?” Leah asked. I raised an eyebrow at that. I had gotten back relatively fast, but that was mostly because we had a game on the 26th against Chelsea. “Some of the girls have tonight before they go back to their clubs in the morning. The house has the most space, but it is yours and I wouldn’t invite them over if you don’t want them to come over.”

“I don’t mind,” I shook my head. I looked at the time on the stove. “I was planning on heading to London Colney.”

“You’re going to train?”

“I usually do when I get back from camps,” I shrugged. My body had adjusted back to USA time while I was in the States and I usually spent a couple of days to adjust back. “I went to a different time zone. It takes a couple of days to get back to time here.”

“I guess that makes sense.”

I looked back over at the clock.

“Want me to throw something together before they get here? I could make some pasta and garlic bread in like 20 minutes tops?”

“You don’t mind?” Leah asked. I shook my head. I really didn’t since I knew that Leah hadn’t eaten dinner yet. “I think the girls would love that.”

“You know where the wine is too, so help yourselves. Just don’t drink it all,” I said, causing Leah to nod. I stood up to start working on the pasta. “Save me some so I can eat when I get back?”

Leah nodded in agreement and I grinned at that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I dropped my keys onto the table by the entrance before kicking my shoes off. I could hear the girls talking through the house. I figured that they were probably still in the kitchen and living room. I ducked through the laundry room to get into my bedroom without being seen.

I peeled my sweaty clothes off before jumping in for a quick shower. Once I put fresh clothes on, I could still hear the voices in the rest of the house. I threw my dirty clothes into the laundry room before exiting my room to make my way into the kitchen. Thankfully, none of the girls in the living room had noticed me as all of their backs had been turned to me.

“Hey,” Leah softly greeted me when she saw me. 

I sent Leah a soft smile as the others in the kitchen had turned to look at me. I ignored the looks that the other English women sent me as I grabbed a plate before getting some pasta and bread and heating it back up in the microwave.

“How was training?”

“Good,” I nodded as I pulled the plate out of the microwave. I moved to sit at the island. “Burnt off a lot of energy, so maybe now I’ll actually get some sleep tonight. Thankfully, Jonas understands if I oversleep, but I don’t think he’d be too happy if you don’t show up on time.”

“Am I missing something?”

I looked up to find Keira Walsh’s eyes trained on me. 

“I thought we couldn’t stand (Y/L/N),” Keira said.

“No, we can,” Leah said. I raised an eyebrow as I looked over at Leah. “I’ve been staying here with her since Jordan and I broke up.”

“Oh, hey, did you get the patches you brought back onto the hoodie?” I asked. Leah nodded causing me to grin. “I still can’t believe you wouldn’t show them to me when I got in.”

“I can’t believe you Rickrolled me with a patch on the hoodie.”

I rolled my eyes at that.

“Hold up,” Lucy said, causing my attention to be drawn to her. “That’s your hoodie? Leah’s been wearing your hoodie?”

“You didn’t know?”

“Shut up, (Y/N).”

“Awwww, look Captain England is embarrassed that she’s my friend.”

Leah threw one of the cloth napkins at me. I couldn’t help but laugh as I caught the napkin.

“No one ate in the living room, did they?”

“No one ate in the living room,” Leah assured me. I nodded at that. It was one of the biggest rules I had and asked Leah to respect while she stayed here. “I think they have wine in there right now, but no one ate there. I know how you feel about it.”

“Thanks.”

“So, you two are living together?” Keira asked

“Until I can find another place,” Leah said.

“Unless you just want to officially move in here,” I said. Leah turned to look at me and I shrugged. “It’s been kind of nice having someone else in the house.”

“Maybe you should get a dog,” Keira suggested.

“No. No way,” I shook my head at that. A dog was a bad idea. “Dogs need too much maintenance. And we are gone far too often. It isn’t a practical idea.”

“Then get a cat.”

“I’m good,” I shook my head. “Don’t even know how to take care of one. Mom was allergic so we never had a cat growing up.”

“Don’t worry, I don’t plan on moving out anytime soon,” Leah assured me. I smiled at that. It was nice to know.

“So, are you two a thing?” Lucy asked.

I froze at that. Leah and I sure acted like we were together sometimes, but I didn’t want to push her with everything that had been going on with Jordan and I knew her breakup was still pretty fresh.

“Honestly? I’m just trying to make sure that Leah has someone right now. If that ever turns into more, that’ll be up to her. But I’m not going to take advantage of someone who’s hurting.”

The women in the kitchen went silent as they took the words in.

“Who’s fucking golden boots are these!”

I looked over my shoulder, but I didn’t actually know the voice. I just turned back to Leah with a raised eyebrow.

“Georgia. Probably looking for the bathroom.”

I sighed as I got up from my spot. I made my way to the room where Georgia was standing looking at all of the stuff that was sitting throughout the room.

“Looking for the bathroom?” I asked. Georgia whirled around to face and her brow furrowed in confusion at the sight of me. “Just one more down. And on the other side.”

“This is all of your stuff?” Georgia asked. I nodded as I shrugged. Sure it was all cool and everything, but outside of the medals, most of it didn’t actually seem that much to me. “Dude, you should have this stuff displayed, even if you are an American.”

“Yeah, sure,” I nodded. My worth had been tied to how I did on the field for so long that I just wanted one place where it didn’t matter what I had won. “Bathroom. It’s one door down on the other side.”

Georgia held up her hands as she started heading on. My eyes caught something missing on the wall.

“Georgia,” I said. She turned around to face me. “My World Cup medal?”

“I just wanted to look at it closer,” Georgia said as she looked at the floor and held it out to me.

I took the medal back as I looked at it. I sighed as I looked up at her.

“How about you go to the bathroom and then you can have a closer look at everything in here?”

Georgia looked up at me with a grin on her face as she nodded. I hung the medal back on the wall as I glanced at the trophies that were thrown in boxes. Some of them were probably pretty cool. I shook my head as I went back to the kitchen. There was no avoiding the players who were still in the living room.

“Everything okay?” Leah asked when I sat back down.

“Yeah,” I nodded. “Georgia just opened up the spare room where I keep all my awards and medals. I told her when she gets out of the bathroom, she can look at them.”

“Got anything cool in there?”

I looked over my shoulder at the newcomer.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” I shrugged as Alessia moved further into the kitchen. “I mean, all of my stuff is in there. I think Georgia was more interested in looking at the World Cup medals than anything else when she realized they were in there.”

“You keep your World Cup medals hidden away?” Keira asked.

“It’s not like I have people over. No reason to exactly have them on display.”

“Dude! Is this the Ballon d’Or?”

“Oh, my God! I swear, Stanway, if you break it, I will break you!”

I needed to pack it up so I could fly it back to the States with me when I went back during the summer. I heard the feet hitting on the floor before the person came close enough.

“What’s this?”

I looked at the medal that Georgia had in her hands. I furrowed my brow in confusion as I took the medal from her to look at it. It was probably some medal that was worth like 20 bucks painted gold.

“A youth soccer medal.”

“And you have it up on the wall with World Cup medals?”

“I got this when I was 6-years-old,” I said as I held the medal back to her. “That was my first season playing soccer. And I fell in love with it and the championship game where I won that was the moment when I decided that it was what I wanted to do for the rest of my life.”

“So, why aren’t these up somewhere to show them off?” Georgia asked. I shook my head at that. I didn’t want to get into it. “There’s some pretty cool things in there.”

“It’s kind of personal. No offense to any of you but I literally haven't had a conversation off the pitch with any of you besides Leah and Lotte.”

“Well, if you ever want help putting them on display, give me a call,” Georgia said as she looked back down at the medal in her hands. “I’d be willing to help just because of how cool it all is.”

“Do not invite her to help,” Lucy said as she pointed at Georgia. “She cannot use any tools to save her life.”

I chuckled a little at that. I could handle myself around tools. My dad had made sure of that.

“Also, what’s that huge trophy in there? It says ‘State Championship.’���

“You do not touch that. You will never tell anyone about it either. Do you understand?”

Georgia nodded before she scrambled off back to the room. I turned back to find four pairs of eyes on me.

“In our high schools, we have State Championships for each sport. Think of it like the division you’re in is based on the size of the school you go to and the other schools of the same size closest to you,” I explained. I rubbed the back of my neck. “My school won State four years in a row. My senior year, I kind of stole the trophy? They never figured out who did it. And I need it to stay that way because I go back this summer to announce that I’ve donated the money for the soccer teams to have their own field that they don’t have to share with the football team and their own locker rooms. They’re not gonna invite me back if they know that I took the trophy.”

“Wow,” Lucy said. She glanced over her shoulder at Leah. “Maybe Leah shouldn’t be staying with someone who just admitted to stealing.”

“You would steal it too if you won the championship and then they announced that you wouldn’t be considered part of the team anymore because it came out that you were gay.”

“Oh, shit.”

I ran a hand through my hair at that. It seemed that I was just going to be oversharing with British players lately.

I got up from my seat and moved my dishes into the sink before cleaning them off. I threw them into the dishwasher, but since it wasn’t full yet, I didn’t start it. I looked over at Leah.

“I’m gonna go lie down. If you need me, just come get me. If I’m asleep when you go to bed, just wake me up and I’ll move to the couch.”

Leah only nodded as I moved to my room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Good morning,” Leah said.

I looked at her over my shoulder as I smiled at her. Leah sat down at the island as I plated up the food before I grabbed the plates. I sat one in front of Leah before sitting the other one next to her. I turned back to grab the cups of coffee before putting them by the plates.

“Sugar and cream?”

“Yes, sugar and cream.”

I moved over to the other side of the island as Leah took a bite of her omelet. I took a drink of my coffee before I started to dig into my omelet.

“Did you mean what you said last night?” Leah asked eventually.

I raised my head to look at her. I wasn’t entirely sure what she meant considering we had talked about a range of things last night.

“About... us?”

“I mean, I won’t deny that I like you, Leah,” I said softly. I guess if I was going to tell Leah the truth, it wouldn’t hurt to tell her everything. “I would love to take you out on a date some time, but I don’t want to be a rebound and I don’t want you to go out with me before you’re ready to. You were with Jordan for a while. It would be understandable if you need a while before you’re ready to date again.”

“But what if I wanted to go on a date with you?”

“I mean, if you’re asking...”

“Well, I am.”

“Then you’re planning.”

“Only if I can wear the hoodie.”

“I think that can be arranged.”

Leah grinned at that before she pressed a kiss against my cheek. She got up from her seat and moved over to the sink.

“I’m wearing it today. And I hope you’re good at arcade games, because the loser is buying drinks,” Leah said as she looked over her shoulder. “And I am wearing the hoodie all day today.”

[discount-shades]

Sleepy Baby Part 5

a/n: I am super flattered by how many people have liked this little story.

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin / Reader

Warnings: Cursing

Word Count: 1700 ish

Summary: Jake has thoughts about you.

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In late afternoon Jake parks his truck at Belmont Park Amusement park, he goes to run around the vehicle to open your door but you are already out and looking up at the roller coaster over the entrance. “So… um… this is probably a good time for me to tell you that I will vomit on any ride more exciting than a ferris wheel.” You look sheepish and he is crestfallen. He had been sure you would love the amusement park. 

“Do you want to go somewhere else?” He is never this nervous taking women on dates. There is something about you that is different. Something that makes his heart beat faster, that makes him willing to agree with anything you say just to get another smile from your lips. 

“No, there is enough here to keep me entertained,” you say with a grin as you take his hand and begin pulling him toward the entrance. “And as long as I stay on the ground no one will see my lunch.”

Once inside he stops and pulls you into him. “I should have checked if you liked rides before bringing you here.” He looks into your eyes trying to get a read on how you are feeling and you just smile at him. “Are you sure you don’t want to go somewhere else?” 

”Jake, it’s fine,” you say, squeezing his hand. “But If you feel bad you can win me the most obnoxiously large stuffed animal here,” you nod toward a giant rainbow unicorn hanging over the balloon pop game. 

“It’s yours.” he says and drags you over to the game laughing.

“Jake, these games are rigged.” You watch as he puts money down for the darts and begins throwing. After he pops the first few balloons easily you change your tactic. “Jake, I don't need a giant rainbow unicorn I was kidding.” He keeps throwing the darts and balloons keep popping. He turns to you, grinning at your shocked expression.

“Your prize.” he says as he hands you the unicorn. With the unicorn in your arms he can only see the top of your head.

“I can’t believe you won me a giant unicorn.” Your voice is muffled from behind the animal. “I’m going to have to win you something now!” Jake is smiling fondly until you shove the unicorn back into his arms and he gets a mouthful of rainbow mane. 

“Do I get my own unicorn?” he jokes as you begin to walk up the midway games. 

“You are going to have to settle for a lesser prize,” you grin over your shoulder at him as he follows you. “I don’t have your skills.”

“I have you as my prize, nothing can top that.” He grins at your pressed together lips. It is one of the faces you make when he flirts outrageously at you. You trying not to laugh is his favorite expression of yours. 

You finally select Whack-a-mole and pay for your turn.

“Should you be playing this game?” Jake grins down at you from around the unicorn. “I mean it is rather violent, at least hangman is only on paper.” 

You laugh and wave the mallet under his nose. “Watch it, Sleepy Baby, I'm the one with the mallet.” You turn back and begin to play the game grinning at every hit. You have an intense focus as you smash the mallet on the board and he loves how seriously you are taking the game. Once you win he chooses a plush kissy emoji, smiling widely as you roll your eyes at him grinning. He has changed his mind, his favorite expression of yours is the grinning eye roll.

You are carrying your unicorn and Jake is carrying his emoji when you see the funnel cakes. “I love my unicorn but in hindsight I feel like we should have waited until the end of the night. Because now one of us has to carry this thing around all night.” You are staring at the funnel cakes in longing. 

Jake offers to run the unicorn back to the truck for the rest of the evening. You get in line for the funnel cakes while he does. When he returns he finds that you have bought a funnel cake for each of you. “I’ll share a lot of things,” you tell him seriously, handing his funnel cake over, “but not funnel cakes.”

After funnel cakes you insist on the House of Mirrors Maze. “Ok, no hands.” You are standing behind him and you grab one of his hands in each of yours as he walks through the entrance. 

“What?” He looks over his shoulder to where you are standing behind him. “Without my hands I'm going to be walking into the mirrors!”

You lace your fingers through his and step closer behind him. “That's the point! Every time you hit a mirror we switch and then you can hold my hands while I walk into the mirrors.” You are grinning up at him with a mischievous look. And he knows he would walk through a lot more than a house of mirrors to keep that smile on your face.

You take turns walking first through the maze. Jake finds himself grinning how every time you hit the mirror you curse then start giggling while leaning back into his chest. You always run around behind him for his turn and end up following too close so that every time he hits a mirror you bump into his back and end up leaning against him shaking with suppressed laughter at his curses. If he is honest, the feeling of you pressed against him is worth repeatedly walking into his own reflection. 

You are leading and nearing the exit when a little boy who looks about three comes running around the corner and runs headlong into his own reflection. Jake can feel more than hear you let out a choked gasp of shock and laughter. He can tell you are about to check on the child before the kid gets up and looks at his reflection in the mirror he just crashed into.

“MOTHER FUCKERS IN MY WAY!” The kid's voice rings through the maze and his parents rush to check on him.

At the child’s shout Jake can feel you begin to shake as your laughter bubbles out of you. You are desperately trying to stop but every time you look at the child you dissolve in giggles again. Jake hastily apologies to the couple who are now glaring at you. He gently guides you out of the maze. You are laughing so hard you are crying and lean heavily on Jake as he leads you out. 

Once outside, Jake sits you on a bench and watches as you take deep shaky breaths as you try to stop laughing. Closing your eyes you periodically giggle as you get control of your laughter. Jake watches your lip tremble in laughter and decides that this is his favorite part of you. Not you laughing at children falling. But your unbridled joy in everything. How you are equally happy with a unicorn, or playing whack-a-mole, or walking into your own reflection. 

“So kids crashing,” he asks, “that's your peak comedy?” 

You start giggling again. “It wasn't just the crash.” You say before dissolving into giggles again. “It was how offended he sounded when he swore!” Jake can't help but laugh with you.

The rest of the evening passes quickly. He easily beats you at mini golf. Jake can't tell if you are really that bad at golf or if the fact that you keep muttering, “mother fuckers in my way,” every time you hit an obstacle and giggling to yourself has thrown off your game.

After mini golf you decide to call it a night and walk back to his truck. When you get to the passenger door you see the unicorn buckled into the front passenger seat. “Oh no,” Jake says in mock dismay, “I guess you will have to sit in the middle next to me.” He takes your hand and leads you around to his door before helping you onto the bench seat in the middle of his truck. 

“You're good, Jake.” You smile up at him as he sits beside you. “You are very good.”

“I’m too good to be true.” He smiles down at you as he puts the truck into drive. 

“Let’s hope not.“ your reply comes out almost a whisper. He frowns slightly at your response but doesn’t say anything. 

“I had fun today.” You tell him as you rest your head is on his shoulder as he pulls out of the parking lot. “Thanks for not making me go on any rides.”

“It was still fun without them and I wouldn't make you do something you didn’t want to,” he says. “Rides aren't worth you getting sick.”

You smile and hold his hand as you doze off and he rests his hand on your knee, sweeping his thumb across the soft skin. Everything about the last two days have been perfect, from finding you, to the time he spent with you today. 

When he gets to your house he gently wakes you with a kiss to the forehead. “You're home, Beautiful,” he says softly.

You lift your head and let him help you out of the truck. “You’re always waking me up today, Baby.” You smile sleepily as he walks you to your door carrying your unicorn in one arm while holding your hand with the other. When you get to the door Jake kisses the hand that he is holding before releasing you. 

He watches you unlock your door before handing you the unicorn. “Goodnight, Kisses.” He says as he walks backward toward his truck, not wanting to push you.

“Hey Jake, you said ‘Goodnight, Kisses’ and you are leaving me without a goodnight kiss!” You call after him frowning. “What's up with that?”

Jake grins and walks back to you. He loves the way your frown turns into a grin at his return. ”My mistake,” he says leaning in to kiss you but with you holding the unicorn he can’t reach your lips. “Mother fuckers in my way.” He mutters causing you to laugh and toss the unicorn through the open doorway. 

When you turn back to him he gently cups your cheek before kissing you. You sigh and lean into him with your hands on his chest and he smiles and deepens the kiss. When he leans back your eyes are closed and your kiss swollen lips are smiling. 

This is definitely his favorite expression on you. 

“Goodnight, Kisses.” he says before giving you one more quick kiss and walking to his truck. He watches you head inside with the ridiculous rainbow unicorn and drives home with a smile on his face.