#also little breath is a nickname that i will die for

[moon-child-goddess]

Oblivious

Mattheo Riddle X Hufflepuff reader

Summery: Mattheo is in love with someone, and the reader navigates their way through it. Also Mattheo cant keep his hands to himself.

Warnings: Out of character maybe, Cursing, Friends to lovers, Language, some angst, This is long, fluff

Word count is just under 6k oops.

“There’s the little badger.” Mattheo greeted as I sat in my usual spot right next to him.

I scrunched my nose up at the nickname he had given to me in our second year, a moniker that had yet to die. He bestowed it upon me after I refused to divulge my name in the first month of knowing him. So he cycled through various nick names before settling on my house’s animal.

“Hi Matty.” I spoke in a sing-song voice.

His lips quirked up as he rolled his eyes. He always acted like he hated the name, but I knew he secretly loved it. Instead of responding, he reached up and straightened out my tie that I had haphazardly thrown on. I was late this morning, which was no surprise. Being late was the hallmark of my personality.

“We should get you a green one, since you are an honorary Slytherin at this point.”  He said in a sarcastic tone, but his brown eyes sparkled with warmth.

“I could just take yours.” I whispered winking at him.

Mattheo froze for a moment, then let out a cough. His long fingers tugged my collar back down. Blaise made a stupid joke to Draco, Complete with an exaggerated kissy face. A small blush rose to my cheeks.

“Thanks. You are the best” I said, interrupting the awkward tension.

He responded with a genuine smile, one that lingered for nearly twenty seconds before reverting to his usual scowl. Mattheo nudged a plate of food towards me. It was loaded with my favorite things, including a bowl of fruit topped with a generous pile of whipped cream—just the way I liked it. My smile widened until it hurt.

I wasted no time in digging into the fruit. The sweetness of the whipped cream mingled with the tartness of the berries reminding me why it was the best. As soon as I took my first bite Mattheo wrapped an arm over my shoulders turning back to his conversation with his friends.

“What do you want to do this weekend?” Blaise asked, looking at everyone.

“I am going to Hogsmeade with Ron and Harry. They just asked me in the hall.” Mattheo glowered as I spoke, his arm falling down to my lower back.

“Ditching us for the golden trio. That’s low Y/N.” Theo spoke through a mouthful of food.

“I have other friends, you know.” 

Everyone exchanged dubious glances, I spent about 95 percent of my time with the Slytherin boys, but I did have other friends. They just seemed to forget it. Draco scoffed. I took another bite of my food hiding my smile. My friends were jealous though they would never admit it.

“What if we meet-“ My words trailed off as Mattheo used his finger to wipe away some cream on the corner of my mouth. His touch lingered a moment longer than necessary, awakening butterflies in my stomach.

“Hey Mattheo.”  A female voice said from behind us. We both turned to face her, moving as one.

It was a pretty Ravenclaw girl a year below us. She and Mattheo talked occasionally in classes and the hallway; she had even tutored him for a few months last year. The girl started to fiddle with her blue sweater, shuffling on her feet.

“I was wondering if you wanted to hang out on Saturday?”

Everyone at our table fell silent. Did she just ask him out on a date? I froze. We had all suspected she liked him, but we never knew how Mattheo felt about her. He was a man of few words when it came to feelings.

Mattheo looked right at me, his mouth opening and closing, words failing him. I giggled nervously—did he like her after all? Was he nervous?

“He is free. Let’s all meet in the Courtyard at 9? We can all head out together.” She nodded.

As she walked away, Mattheo squeezed my hand, mumbling something under his breath. I couldn’t make out a single word he was saying.

I think I just got him a date, and it wasn’t me. I pushed him in to another girls’ arms. Merlin, I was dumb.

It was the end of the day, and it had passed by in a blur. I was making my way to the library so Mattheo and I could work on an essay for herbology together. The events of this morning were still raw in my mind, playing over and over. My heart hurt, and I wasn’t entirely sure why.

“Is he ever going to tell her how he feels?” Theo’s voice echoed down the hall loud and clear.

“I mean it’s obvious. Mattheo is fooling no one.” Blaise added.

I gasped as I rounded the corner, my footsteps faltering. It felt like there was another crack added to my heart today. Why, though? I always knew there was going to eventually be a girl that wasn’t just a casual hook up.

“Mattheo is in love with someone?” I whispered, disbelief washing through me like a cold wave.

“No, he just really likes this girl. She is-” Blaise smacked Theo, cutting off whatever else he was going to say. 

“Ow” Theo rubbed his arm and glared at Blaise. Ever the dramatic one.

Mattheo never told me about liking anyone. I thought we were closer than that. And Merlin, I agreed to a date for him. What if it was the wrong girl and I just made things complicated? He could have just been looking for a way out of it. Maybe that was why he was tense all day.

“It is not our place to say anything” Blaise bit out bitterly.

“Oh.”

“Why does it look like you two have offended my little badger?” Mattheo appeared; his eyebrow arched in curiosity as he looked at the two of them.

“Uhmm- They. We.” I couldn’t come up with a lie. My brain was trying to comprehend that Mattheo didn’t tell me he liked someone.

He gently grabbed my hands, his touch warm and reassuring, making me face him. His dark eyes bore into mine, searching for an answer. 

“Darling? Are you ok?” his tone was soft and filled with concern.

“Yeah, yes. They were talking about sex.” I cringed internally. I wasn’t that innocent, but what else could I say that would end the conversation?

I was getting secondhand embarrassment from myself if that was even possible.

He let out a loud laugh, which startled me to my core. I wasn’t prepared for that reaction.

“I thought I was going to have to fight my best friends for you.” His tone held amusement, a playful glint in his eyes.

Blaise flipped him off, and Theo let out a protest. Mattheo’s hands moved from mine, pulling me into his embrace. His chest shook as he laughed some more. I buried my face into his chest, trying to hide my embarrassment. He smelled of cologne and rain.

“Let’s get to the library; we have an essay to write.” He took my bag from me, slinging it on his shoulder and held my hand as we walked to the library.

As we walked, I couldn’t help but replay the conversation I had overheard. Mattheo liked someone- no, loved someone. My mind was becoming a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. Every glance, every touch we shared had felt loaded with unspoken words. Was I reading into it?

When we finally arrived at the library, the familiar scent of books and the quiet ambiance did little to calm my racing thoughts. Mattheo led us to a secluded table, away from the prying eyes of the other students. He set my bag down and pulled out a chair for me, a small gesture that made my heart flutter despite everything.

As we worked, I found myself stealing glances at him, wondering what secrets he was hiding behind that stupid charming smile of his.

We were in the middle of our work... Well, he was. I was reading the same page over and over, my eyes glazing over the words. I was still focused on trying to figure out who the girl he liked was. He hardly talked to anyone when he was with me, which was pretty much all day.

I let out a gasp dropping the book on the table with a thud. The librarian shushed me from her desk, eyes narrowed in disapproval. Mattheo’s hand instinctively reached out and rubbed circles on my back as if it was second nature to comfort me.

Was I in the way? The reason he couldn’t get the girl.

No, he would tell me. Mattheo was blunt like that… but he didn’t tell me he liked someone.

“I can tell you are overthinking little badger.” His thumb smoothed out the worry lines on my forehead. His touch was soft and comforting.

Gods, why did my heart hurt so much?

“Oh, you know I just realized my outline was wrong. I need to start over.” I lied to him, something I never did. And I have done It twice in one day.

Mattheo knew I was lying too. He shook his head, looking back at his paper, his warm hand squeezing my knee, sending me silent words of comfort and understanding. His touch lingered, grounding me, yet making my thoughts spiral even more. The connection between us felt so real, so tangible, but was it just in my head? The uncertainty gnawed at me, making it hard to focus.

As the minutes ticked by the silence between us filled the space. I could feel his gaze flicker to me, trying to decipher my emotions and thoughts. The library's quiet ambiance seemed to mock my inner turmoil, each second stretching painfully.

As the evening drew on, Mattheo set his quill down, his gaze locking onto mine with an intensity that made my breath hitch. “Darling, you're not yourself tonight. What's really going on?”

I swallowed hard, avoiding getting any answers I wasn’t sure I was ready to hear. I forced a smile. “Just tired, I guess. It's been a long day.”

He didn’t seem convinced, his eyes searching mine. With a sigh, he gathered our things, his movements slow and deliberate. “Let’s call it a night. We can finish this another time.”

As we walked out of the library, the cool air hit us, a welcome relief. Mattheo’s hand found mine again, his fingers lacing through mine with an ease that made my heart ache. Could I bear to lose this connection if he moved on?

 I awoke with a gasp sitting straight up in my bed. My breathing was shallow, and I was drenched in a cold sweat. Tears fell slowly, tracing icy paths down my cheeks. I haven’t had that nightmare in a while. Mattheo was fighting in the war, and I watched him die as I held on to him, begging him to stay with me. It always felt too real.

A wave of panic surged through me as I stood up grabbing my slippers. The torches casted an eerie glow on the paintings that were sleeping as I hurried down the silent corridor. I needed to get to the Slytherin common room. I needed to see him with my own eyes.

I knocked on Mattheos door very gently, my knuckles barely made a sound against the wood. This was stupid. I shouldn’t be waking him up. It was selfish, but I needed to see him breathing.

My vision was still blurry from the tears, heart pounding a mile a minute. The door cracked open very slowly.

“Darling?” he mumbled, sleep thick in his voice reaching out for me. “What’s wrong?”

I launched into his arms holding on to him tightly. His arms caught me snaking around my waist holding me close. Mattheo nuzzled his face in my neck. I pressed my ear to his chest listening to his steady heartbeat.

He was ok. It was a dream. I let out a soft sob. Mattheo shushed me, pulling us into his room. As a perfect he got his room to himself, so I didn’t have to worry about waking any roommates.

“What happened darling?” He asked again, running his finger through my hair untangling any knots they found.

“I- I had a nightmare.” Mattheo raised an eyebrow.

“Again?” I nodded. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No” I mumbled into his chest. “Can I stay with you?”

He didn’t respond, just pulled us to his bed lifting the covers, guiding me in. Once he was settled in, he pulled me to him, tucking my head under his chin. I could feel his lips press a lingering kiss on to the top of my head. He rubbed soothing circles on my back. His warmth enveloped me, chasing away the remnants of the nightmare. I grew tired, and that was how I fell asleep. In his arms, ear pressed to his chest, the steady thump of his heart a lullaby. A reminder he is alive.

My eyes fluttered open as the memory of last night clung to my consciousness. I wiggled around trying to bring feeling back into my leg, a heavy arm still on my waist. Mattheo’s hold tightened, pulling me in closer. The warmth of his body against mine was a nice contrast to the cold dread I felt last night.

I was safe.

Mattheo groaned, a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine.

“Sorry for waking you,” I whispered, my voice hoarse.

He cracked an eye open, a sleepy smile playing on his lips. “It's okay.”

“Stay in bed with me a little longer.” His request was gentle, almost a warm plea against my skin.

“We must get ready for Hogsmeade. And you have a date,” I reminded him the word bitter on my tongue.

His eyes darkened briefly before he rolled them, pulling me impossibly closer. He whispered something incoherent, a blend of frustration and longing that I couldn’t quite decipher.

“Stay with me a little longer,” he repeated, one of his hands pushing my hair back exposing more of my face to him.

“Okay. Just for ten minutes,” I complied, my resolve crumbling under the weight of his touch. It wasn’t hard to give in to him. This seemed to make him happy. He said nothing more, moving his hands from my hair down to my hip squeezing gently.

We lay there in silence, the early morning light filtering through the curtains, casting a soft glow on his floor. My chin rested on his chest as I studied his features. The way his dark lashes cast shadows on his cheeks, the faint stubble on his jaw, the curve of his lips. I wanted to memorize every detail, hold onto this moment.

As the minutes passed, I felt calm. A calmness I only ever felt in his presence.

“Matty,” I whispered, my voice barely audible, scared to ruin the moment. “Thank you.”

He tilted his head down to look at me, his eyes soft and full of something I couldn’t quite name. “For what, darling?”

“For being here. For making me feel safe,” I replied, my heart pounding.

His lips brushed very gently against my forehead, a feather-light kiss that sent another wave of tingles down my spine. “Always, little badger. Always.”

We stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, until the world outside demanded our attention. But for those precious moments, nothing else mattered to me. Harry and Ron could wait.

Ron, Harry, and Hermione had packed our day with activities. It was a nice break from my overthinking. They made me laugh till my sides hurt. A nice break indeed.

Currently, I was standing outside Honeydukes waiting for Ron and Harry. There were so many people inside that you could barely walk through it. It was overwhelming. Between the cacophony of excited chatter and the scent of various sweets was too much for me. I pulled my coat over my lips, trying to warm myself up as the cold wind nipped at my face My nose began to run.

Warm hands wrapped around me from behind, and I let out a surprised squeak. A head rested on my shoulder.

“Hello little badger.” Was whispered in my ear.

Mattheo.

I smiled, turning to face him. I leaned back into his arms that circled around me and looked up at him. He gave me a quick smile. If anyone else saw it, they would miss it, but I knew Mattheo.

“What are you doing alone in the cold?” he seemed annoyed at the thought, his warm breath clouding up in the cold.

“There were too many people in there, and I told Ron I would wait.” I pointed at the window behind me, proving my point.

“Hmmm. I see.”

He did not see. His eyes never left mine.

“What happened to your date?” The word once again bitter on my tongue.

“Not my date.” He bit out. “And she ran off with some boy she wanted to make jealous.”

That look I couldn’t decipher flashed through his eyes again. This was good. Now he had an opportunity to make a move on the other girl.

“Oh.” I bit down on my bottom lip.

“Yeah, so I came to kidnap my girl. Did you eat?”

My heart skipped at his words—his girl. If only.

“Hang out with us. We were about to go get drinks. Plus, I really want hot cocoa.” I pleaded.

He was pulling his scarf around my neck, eyebrows furrowed, contemplating his options. It smelled like him, overwhelming my senses with a mix of his cologne and something distinctly Mattheo. I pushed my nose into it, inhaling for a quick second, seeking comfort in his scent.

“I will make you one, and we can go to the astronomy tower like we always do.”

It was tradition. We spent Saturday nights looking at the stars and reading from a book to each other.

“Matty, I can’t just leave without saying anything to my friends.”

“I will go in and tell them.”

He was not going to take no for an answer.

“Ok.” I caved.

His smile returned, and he pulled my hair out from the scarf before making his way inside. I watched him through the window, anxiety coursing through me. I hoped he was nice to them. It was no secret they hated each other.

He moved through the crowd so effortlessly, his presence commanding attention. Before I knew it, he was back outside in front of me.

“They’re all set. Let’s get out of here,” he said, taking my hand in his. His grip was firm, reassuring, and I squeezed back, feeling a sense of security wash over me.

When I walked into potions Mattheo was sitting at our usual table. Only my spot was taken by another girl who was letting out an obnoxious giggle. I rolled my eyes, making my way to my chair, but then I halted, Theos words echoing in the back of my mind.

Was this the girl?

I didn’t know how much more I could take of this guess-who game. My heart hurt more than I thought it ever could. Seeing him happy with someone else was more than I could bear. I was in love with him. I tried so hard to deny it, to hide it. But I was in love with my best friend, and this pain was getting to be too much.

 I needed space.

Another giggle from her solidified my decision to keep my distance. I took the seat next to another Hufflepuff, who raised both their eyebrows up to their hairline, taking a second look to make sure they weren’t hallucinating.

Mattheo spun in his seat and sent me a what-the-hell look. He cocked his head to the side, using his head to point at my chair. The girl still sat there, getting comfortable. I waved and looked down at my textbook, repeating to myself that this was the right thing to do, trying to convince myself.

That’s how it continued for a while. I would sit with my house or walk the other way. My peers began to look at me like I had lost it. I was never at their table or on their side of the room, and here I was for the last few weeks actively being a Hufflepuff.

I showed up to class early to avoid him.

Mattheo kept my spot open and would stare at me from where he sat, whether that was in the dining hall or classrooms. The first few days he wore a questioning look. It slowly faded into one of hurt and confusion. The shine in his brown eyes was dulling.

I needed time. How much time exactly, I wasn’t sure.

Various friends became worried when I stopped taking care of my appearance. My hair was in disarray, my tie was lopsided, and my skirt was wrinkled. I felt queasy most of the time and wasn’t eating as much. The once neatly arranged notes and textbooks in my bag had become a chaotic mess.  I stopped turning in homework.

Mattheo knew that I wasn’t eating enough because one afternoon in the library he dropped a sack of food in front of me, giving me a cold stare before walking off. There was a note in there that just said, “Eat.”

My roommates came into the room laughing loudly. From the sounds of it, Slytherin won the Quidditch game. Mattheo would be happy about that. I didn’t move, just stared at the blank stone wall in front of me, feeling the coldness seep into my bones.

Someone landed on the corner of my bed, their hand gripping my calf.

“Alright, no more being sad. We are going to the party tonight,” my friend stated, leaving no room to argue.

I turned my head to look at her.

But I was stubborn. “The Slytherin one? Yeah, no thank you. I am staying in.” Mattheo would be there. If one is avoiding someone, they don’t show up to their house party.

“Please? You need it.” Her bottom lip jutted out hands in a payer motion begging.

“I have stuff I need to do.”

Like stare at the wall till I fell asleep.

“Please? You won’t even have to do anything. I will do your hair and get you ready.”

She gave me puppy dog eyes. I honestly was convinced she would cry if I said no. Everyone would be there, and Mattheo and the boys always stayed in the corner. I just needed to stay on the opposite side. I should get out and find a new normal.

“You must stay with me, never leave my side.” I spoke sternly leaving no room for negotiations.

She squealed, agreeing with my condition.

I was in the thick of the people dancing and singing off-key. The room was a blur of colors and sounds, the music pounding in my ears. I hadn’t seen Mattheo or Theo all night. Theo wouldn’t keep his mouth shut if he saw me. I ran into Blaise on the way in—that was over an hour ago, so I don’t think he said anything to any of the gang. My friend had said they were all in their usual corner drinking about ten minutes ago. My guard was down.

I had a slight buzz from the one too many shots of firewhisky I took when we got here. Unfamiliar hands were on my waist, dancing with me. I didn’t push them off, just continued. My brain was too hazy to care. My friend made eye contact with me, wiggling her brows. I turned, facing the person behind me. It was some blonde from Slytherin I never talked to before.

We drunkenly smiled at each other, my arms going around his neck. As we danced, we grew closer. His forehead on mine. Kissing him would probably be a bad idea. But I didn’t really care. I wanted to feel something. Just as I was about to kiss him, my body was yanked away harshly.

“What the fuck, Y/N?” Mattheo growled, my name coming out like a curse. There was a dark look in his eyes, and his lips were pressed into a thin line.

Oh, I was in trouble. He never used my name. My heart rate picked up.

“Go away, Matty,” I slurred, pushing my way past someone. The moment was now dead.

In the next second, I was thrown over his shoulder and carried through the crowd. One of his hands held my dress down, keeping me modest. He shoved people out of the way. It wasn’t a hard feat—most of the people here were wasted anyway.

“Put me down.” I smacked his back, but it didn’t even phase him.

“No,” he hissed. “You are drunk.”

“I am not drunk.”

“We both know you are, so stop lying. It makes things easier on both of us.”

I sent a pleading look to Theo as we passed by. He laughed. Of course, he would think this was funny. No one made an attempt to save me. My friend was lost in the crowd, so I was on my own.

He kicked open a door, and once we entered, my nose was met with a very familiar smell. His room. I yelped as I was thrown down onto his bed. It was a little harsher than I think he intended, because he cursed and backed away. I sat up on my arms, glaring at him. Blowing the hair out of my face.

He paced in front of me, looking up at the ceiling, frustration etched in every line of his face.

“I am going back to my room,” I stated moving to stand up.

His head snapped to me, softening his gaze. “You are not leaving till you sober up.” There was tension in his tone, like he was trying to hold himself back.

I glared at his words. “I am fine. I can sober up in my room.”

His jaw tightened, and his nostrils flared. It was a little scary to be on the receiving side of his anger. I almost stood up to ease the anger like I normally would.

He thrust a cup in my face, hissing the word “Drink.”

I complied, not wanting to further his anger. His fingers dug through his curls, tugging them out of place.

“Fuck, you look so good.” He dragged a hand down his face. “Darling, where have you been?”

I squeezed my eyes shut at the nickname. A knock on the door interrupted any response I was going to give.

He made no move to answer it. We stared at each other, neither one of us blinking. His jaw set. We were playing an awful round of the staring game.

The door creaked open. I didn’t take my eyes off Mattheo, and his stayed on me.

“Matty, come back down,” a feminine voice spoke in a baby tone behind me.

Merlin. That was the girl, wasn’t it? I was now sobered up. My heartache was back, one hundred times worse than it was before. Now that she was there, and behind me.

Mattheo paid her no attention. I dropped the cup on the floor.

“That is my cue to leave. Goodbye, Mattheo.”

This time I meant it. Goodbye forever. I think he knew it too. He scrambled to catch my hand before I left, breathing hard, eyes wide. He tried to pull me back, but I didn’t budge.

“Y/N,” he said softly, as if my name was a prayer leaving his lips.

The girl behind us scoffed. I looked at him, really took him in. There were bags under his eyes and pain hidden in those beautiful brown pools.

My eyes burned I was doing this to him. I fought the urge to take care of him and take away any pain. But that would mean I would hurt all the time. It was something I couldn’t do. Call me selfish, but I just couldn’t.

“No. No, we are not doing this.” I yanked my hand away and ran as fast as I could.

There was a frantic banging on my room’s door. I didn’t move. My limbs felt like lead, and I had been staring at the wall in front of me since I left the party two days ago. I hadn’t left my room or moved. My friends had brought me food, but it remained for the most part untouched. I was not hungry. I missed my friend. I wanted to run back to him.

When I didn’t answer, the knocking didn’t stop; it just grew louder. I didn’t understand who it could have been. My roommates had all gone out to enjoy their weekend after I convinced them I was okay.

It wouldn’t stop, and the longer it went, the louder it got. Whoever it was, was not going to give up.

“Go away.” I yelled out still not moving from my bed.

It stopped.

“No,” a male voice growled out muffled by the door.

The knocking began again. A groan escaped me. The door was unlocked; they could just enter.

I kicked my sheets off me, cursing under my breath.

Mattheo stood there, clenching and unclenching his fists. His hair was messy, the curls out of place. He looked into the dark room behind me, staring into the shadows. When he looked back down, his eyes hardened with resolve.

When his hands reached out, I backed away. I didn’t miss the flash of pain on his face.

“What do you want, Mattheo?” I sighed; my voice heavy with exhaustion.

“Are you okay? Why are you avoiding me? What did I do?” He asked rapidly one question after the other not taking a breath.  

“I am fine. Let me sleep.”

His eyes narrowed into slits. He was just as stubborn as I was. The air in the room grew thick, and we were on the cusp of a fight. He wanted to yell at me, and I wanted to yell at him.

“You are not fine. What’s going on?” He spat the words out. I flinched.

“Stop. Please just leave me alone!” I cried out, wrapping my arms around myself, trying to protect my fragile heart.

Mattheo reached out again hands shaking before he let them fall to his side.

“Why are you being so dramatic?”  his tone was laced with frustration.

“Fuck you. I am going to shower. When I get back, be gone” I slammed the door my breathing was ragged. I was seeing red.

He was still there when I got back from the shower. My hair was wet and dripping on the floor.  He sat on my bed head down and hands in his lap.  I ran the brush through my locks.

“Why are you avoiding me little badger?” Mattheo whispered not looking up at me.

“I-I just need time.” I stuttered.  Placing my brush on my desk.

“Time?” He questioned confusion showing on his face. He stood up taking slow steps watching me and waiting for me to run.

“Don’t make me say it please.” I whispered, the anguish seeping into my tone.

His hands were on me cupping my face wiping the tears that came.

“I don’t get it. I thought we were- I thought we were closer than this.” 

He bent his head, so we were eye level, not letting me escape this time.

“We are Mattheo. I just have a lot going on up here.” I taped the side of my head. His hand grabbed mine clutching on to it.  It wasn’t a lie. I did have a lot on my mind.

“Let me in. Let me fix it please.”  His words cracked at the end; eyes glassy.

“Matty I will be ok. I just need to get over the fact you are in love with someone. I-“

He didn’t let me finish his words coming out in a hurry.

“I am not in love with just anyone. I am in love with you. I want you.”

“But Theo said-“

“My beautiful oblivious girl.” His hands moved to my neck. His forehead resting on mine. “Theo is an idiot.

“oblivious?” I scoffed.

“Yes, oblivious baby. I have been in love with you since we met. I can’t keep my hands off you, because touching you satiates the need to kiss you.”

I gasped.

“Which if you can’t tell is all the fucking time. The last two and half weeks has been hell.”

It was silent. We were breathing each other in his nose nudged mine.

I stood on the tip of my toes, closing the gap between us. At first, he didn’t respond or move. As I pulled away, he used the hand on my neck to pull me back. His lips moved slowly at first before moving in a frenzy. My feet were suddenly off the ground, and he nibbled down on my bottom lip. Mattheo had me in his hands, setting me on the desk behind us. My legs hooked around his waist keeping him close. He now had his fingers in my hair pulling gently angling my face to deepen the kiss.

I was putty in his hands. My fingers tangled in his soft hair ruining the curls even more. The taste of him was intoxicating something I would never get over. I was addicted. When we parted, I was panting for air. Mattheo moved his lips down my neck trailing to my shoulder. He bit down. I moaned before I could stop it. His lips moved in a smile against my skin moving his lips back up landing on mine again.

“Fuck little badger, I don’t ever want to stop.” He mumbled against my lips.

“Then don’t.” I pecked him once, twice, three times. My heart rate wasn’t coming down anytime soon.

He pulled my face back looking at me. The smile I loved plastered on his.

“You should smile more. I like it.” I whispered drunk off the kiss.

He didn’t say anything but placed a quick kiss.

“Theo and Blaise are going to be unbearable once they find out you are officially mine.”  His smile widened.

“Oh yours?” I giggled pressing my face into his shoulder.

“You are mine, baby, and I am yours,” he promised in my ear kissing the shell of it.

“I love you Matty.” I whispered back.

Mattheo pulled my face up

“I’ve waited so long to hear you say that” he murmured, his eyes searching mine for any hint of hesitation.

When he saw none, he kissed me again, this time slower, with a tenderness that made my heart ache. His hands moved gently, reverently, as if he were afraid, I might disappear. We stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, losing ourselves in the connection we had longed for.

[hayatoseyepatch]

𝓓𝓮𝓼𝓬𝓻𝓲𝓹𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷: Sae had never been good with vocalizing what he wanted. He always took what he wanted, a man who beleived in actions and results over meaningless words. Besides, you were already his, so why fret over asking for a taste of you?

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓬𝓽𝓮𝓻: Sae Itoshi (Blue Lock)

𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓒𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽: 2.1k

𝓒𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓼: Sae x Fem!Insert SMUT. 𝓒𝔀: Fingering, degradation, praise, penetrative sex, hair pulling, unprotected sex, one mention of spanking, use of nicknames, Sae maybe being a little ooc.

𝓐𝓾𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓻’𝓼 𝓝𝓸𝓽𝓮: This is my contribution for the @pixelcafe-network's Secret Santa event! @lumiambrose I hope you like it this was so much fun to write and I so enjoyed being your little elf. This is my first time writing for Sae so I hope you like it my love, Merry early Christmas!! ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა₊˚｡❆

The feeling of Sae’s hands against your skin is something you are more than accustomed to, he would rather die than admit it, but the feel of you beneath his fingertips was something he craved. He spent months away from you at a time throughout the year, keeping you from him. Sure you both never went a single day without speaking but nothing could match the warmth of your skin, the scent of you, he wanted to encompass his senses with nothing but you. So on the rare occasion that he was home he was hard pressed to tear himself away from you.

Even now, as you both are on the couch, you are curled into each other’s sides. Sae paid little mind to the Christmas movie playing on the screen, no, he couldn’t care less about it. How could he? Your form pressed against him, clad in nothing but some warm socks and a ridiculous holiday sweater that barely brushed mid-thigh. One hand busied itself with the globe of your ass, gently kneading the flesh that lay beneath the material of your clothes. This was also something you were quite used to at this point. If Sae’s hands were on you, it wasn’t long until they sought out the tender flesh.

And it was even shorter before his hands started to wander.

He loved taking advantage of the way you were so akin to his touch on your skin, it only made it that much easier for him to glide his fingers along your skin without so much as a raised eyebrow. So, with his eyes mindlessly locked onto the screen, faux attentiveness graces his features as he begins to move. The hand caressing your thigh continues its fluid motion, traveling closer and closer to your heat with every pass. On the other hand, deciding it had been dormant at your hip for far too long slides under the fabric of your sweater. The cold appendage, slid up the warm soft skin of your stomach, before taking a mound in his hand. A perfect handful of delicate flesh as always, he lets his fingers press into the softness as he nuzzles into your neck. Nose burring into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent, eyes still never losing focus on the TV.

The subtle ways your body reacted to his was what truly was his favorite part of you. He never missed a beat. Sae Itoshi never misses an opening, he’s tactical and has developed an unmatched pinpoint accuracy. Every hitched breath, every subtle arch of your back, every whimper you try to swallow. None of it goes missed by him. So as his hand slid to grip the plush of your hip, there was no way he would miss the subtle intake of breath. Your eyes desperately still locked onto the television where some droning Christmas cartoon played out on the screen. There was no way he would not take note of the subtle angling of your hip when his fingers traced the hem of your panties at the apex of your thigh. The way you placed down your glass of hot chocolate as your fingers started to tremble as he kept with his movement, torturingly tracing the hem of your panties and the tops of your thighs. Try as you might to deny the way your body reacted to his on a subconscious chemical level, you couldn’t deny the way your cunt was already drooling at the subtlest of touches.

The hand on your thigh finally traveled to your heat, fortunate that the only barrier between his fingers and your clit were the thin panties now drenched with your slick. He uses that as leverage to allow his index and middle finger to circle the nub, wet fabric clinging to the sensitive area easily as he draws lazy circles against you. Mouth beginning its own movements, tongue lolling out to slide against your neck, lips, and teeth pawing at the area. While they were busy with that, his other hand released itself from cupping you opting instead to take a nipple between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it gently. He has to conceal the grin that threatens to pull at his lips, keeping up his façade of distraction, using your body as no more than a fidget toy for his wandering hands and mouth.

Taking note of your horrid attempt to swallow the moan that threatened to slip from your lips, watching the way you bit down on the side of your cheek. Seeing the tears forming along your lash line, unblinking, trying your hardest to pay attention to the movie, though it was proving to be pointless. Unable to focus on the lines spoken due to the pleasure wreaking havoc across your body from his wandering touch. The added pleasure from his tongue and the change in place from his abuse to your chest, had a soft whimper being pulled from your lips as your head rolled back further exposing your neck to his trailing kisses.

Getting tired of missing skin-to-skin contact, his fingers remove themselves from the circles they were drawing, opting instead to push your panties to the side, finally coming into contact with your clit fully without a barrier. He slides down, dipping the tips of his fingers into your entrance, just enough to gather some additional wetness from your dripping cunt before resuming his previous ministrations. He continues to place kisses and licks to your neck, relishing in the fact there was more skin available to him, the hand on your nipple switching to its twin so as not to leave you feeling neglected there. He had decided he'd teased you long enough, now that your body had reacted so blissfully to his, the noises you were letting escape only viable as proof of that.

“That’s my girl. Already dripping for me, mi amor. Always so responsive to me, angel. Like your body craves my touch without even a thought in that pretty head otherwise.”

His voice was devoid of its typical monotone, taking more of a mocking purr as his words were spoken into the shell of your ear. A grin tugged at the corner of his lips as his fingers continued drawing maddening circles over your sensitive pearl. He knew you craved more, could feel the way your cunt clenched around nothing, but you were going to have to admit it. He grabbed to hear how needed he was in that beautiful voice

“Sae.. fuck… please” Your voice was desperate, your cheeks flushing as you heard it in your own ears.

“If I knew you were this needy I would've taken you on the dining room table and not have bothered with coming in here.”

His voice held a mocking tone, one he often took on when he was pent up after being away for some time.

“You'd like that though, wouldn't you? Eating a meal with my brother, knowing the last time you were at that table I was fucking you into it, your dribbling cunt leaking onto the wood from just how fucking wet you were mi amor?”

He releases you from his grip, fingers slipping from your center, as he grabs the back of your neck using that and his legs as leverage to urge you forward. He effectively switches your positions so he now has you face-first into the plush of the couch. Using the hand gripping the back of your neck as leverage to push your face further into the material. His lips are poised at your ear as he hovers over your frame.

“Who am I, though, to deny such a pretty request?”

His hands made quick work, pushing the fabric of your sweater up past your hips, exposing your skin to his hungry gaze. Your plump ass and drooling cunt, still visible due to your panties that had long been slid to the side. His hand comes in contact with the skin of your ass before either of you could truly catch it, the sound of the slap echoing off the walls. He soothes a hand over the reddening skin, gipping your skin as his other hand deftly slides down the hem of his sweats. His cock springs free from the material, slamming the entirety of his length past your velvety walls with ease due to just how wet you were for him.

“God, angel, look at you, sucking me in so eagerly, you miss me that bad, hm?”

He doesn’t afford you the opportunity to respond, sliding nearly all the way out until only the head of his cock remained, before surging his hips forward as he impales you on his cock once more. He sets a steady pace, eyes rolling back at the delicious sounds he pulls from your lips and your cunt that would rival any cheers he would ever receive at a game. He reaches forward, fingers wrapping your hair in a makeshift ponytail. Using it as leverage to pull you back against him bodies flush together as his grip guides the way he was fucking up into you. He picks up speed, allowing you to hear all the filthy noises he was making while pounding into you with reckless abandon.

"Do you hear that, angel? Hear how sloppy that fucking cunt is for me?”

Sae keeps his agonizing pace, though hitting that spot that he knows makes your eyes roll back, his thrusts are deep and shallow not allowing for you to get any closer than you were right now. After a few more harsh slaps of his hips against yours, he removes himself from you entirely, letting go of your hair and sliding from inside you. The distance doesn't last for long, grabbing under your knee and flipping you with ease until you're on your back looking up at him. He grabs you by the undersides of both your knees this time, pressing them to your chest before slamming the entirety of his length back inside of you

“Missed that pretty face, angel, I want to see every face you make while I fuck you”

His words came out gritted through clenched teeth the way you looked up at him through teary lashes was enough to have warmth bubbling up within his belly. The cries of his name and the way your walls engulfed his cock, squeezing him, was more than enough of an indicator that you were right there with him. His hips continue their brutal treatment as his cock bullies the velvety walls of your cunt. He must have been more pent-up than he thought he was, Sae wasn't necessarily a vocal guy when it came to sex. However, the feel of your walls clamping down on him as he lets out the last couple months of pent-up frustration out on you has him tossing his head back, groans, and growls falling from his lips at a volume you didn't think he was capable of. His expression morphs into a teasing grin as he lets out a deep laugh at your fucked out expression. Hand releasing your legs, grinning when you keep them there so he can rub tight circles over your puffy clit.

“Sae.. fuck.. go good. I’m close.” You whimper through broken moans, the sound like music to his ears. “Gonna, fuck, can I? Please need to cum on your cock Sae..”

Feeling your tightening and recognizing it immediately as you being close. He picks up speed on his thrusts as well as the fingers circling your clit. He looks at your pleading gaze and listens to your cries, expression softening for a moment. He leans down movements slowing to allow him to kiss you full of passion and ferocity throwing every ounce of love he has for you into the kiss. Never being so good with his words but showing his love for your through action. The way his tongue slid past your lips to tangle with your own, never ceasing his ministrations has you both roughly thrown over the edge. His thrusts grew sloppy at the way your walls spasmed around his cock, hips rocking with his own to ride out both of your highs as he pumps rope after rope of cum inside of your waiting cunt.

The two of your movements slowly wind to a close, his cock still buried inside you as you both caught your breath. Sae presses kisses against the side of your face, stopping their trail ad he finally places a sweet kiss to your lips. Pulling away and resting on you without crushing you under his weight.

“Wanna just stay like this for a minute feeling you, then we'll get you all cleaned up, have a nice bath and relax, I love you my angel.”

Sure, Sae sometimes struggled with voicing his emotions, but in moments like these, only few words needed to be said when you could more than feel just how much you meant to him. 

Dividers by @/cafekitsune & me. Character banner and writing by me.

[outoftheseine]

- JOEL MILLER FIC RECS -

(most of these fics are age-gap romance. some fics have mature content (+18) so minors please respect the authors and do not interact). also please beware of the canon trigger warnings (violence, language, guns, death, blood etc.))

part 2 | main masterlist

SERIES - MULTI-CHAPTERS

one thing i am missing • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @joelscruff (fluff, smut)

to do the right thing • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @pedgeitopascal (very angsty, tw: abortion and ppd, childbirth)

if the door wasn't shut • joel miller x platonic!reader

↳ by @heartpascal (very angsty)

joel miller x feral!fem!reader

↳ by @ohraicodoll (angst, lots of blood, sometimes gore, reader has a given nickname, smut)

if he wanted to • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @sl-ut (angsty, tw: mentions of suicide and sa, drug use)

twenty years later • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @yelena-bellova (angst)

weakness • joel miller x fem!reader part two

↳ by @pedgeitopascal (fluff, little angst, smut)

the stable girl • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @guess-my-next-obsession (mature, angst, fluff)

friendly fire • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @the-ginger-hedge-witch (angst, smut)

uneven odds • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @theetherealbloom (angst, fluff, smut, anxiety)

burning in a hopeless dream • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @tightjeansjavi (angst, implied smut)

ONE-SHOTS/BLURBS

from love and life • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @bubbles-for-all-of-us (child birth, fluff)

adjustments • joel miller x fem!teacher!reader

by @softlyspector (fluff, smut, mentions of dead loved ones, tw: mentions of suicide)

kiss it better • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @morningbluebell (mostly fluff)

why can't i breathe? • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @oliviajdjarin (fluff, flustered joel)

no time to die • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @davosmymaster (very angsty, hurt/comfort, chef's kiss, so good)

she's a gun • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @cowgurrrl (fluff)

darlin' • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @charnelhouse (angst, tw: sexual assault and mentions of suicide, smut, hurt/comfort)

alone and foresaken • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @chelseasdagger (smut, very good smut actually)

once again in your arms • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @foli-vora (angst, tw: loss of a child, fluff)

too late • joel miller x reader

↳ by @alloftheimagines (angst, injuries, hurt/comfort)

don't let me drown • joel miller x reader

↳ by @alloftheimagines (angst, hurt/comfort, tw: drowning, some nudity but nothing explicit)

nightmares • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @youlightmeupfinn (tw: panic attacks, nightmare, hurt/comfort)

saving • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @youlightmeupfinn (angst, hurt/comfort, joel being an asshole)

a house in nebraska • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @highdramas (angsty, heavy feeling of nostalgia, mentions of sexual interactions)

spring breeze • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @thedgeoftheuniverse (fluff, hurt/comfort)

for you, anything • joel miller x reader

↳ by @mellowsaturns (fluff, sick!reader, domesticty)

perfectly wrong • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @psychedelic-ink (enemies to lovers, smut)

domesticty looks good on you • joel miller x reader

↳ by @girlscull (sooo fluffy)

ghosts of his past • joel miller x reader

↳ by @lol-im-done (very angsty, made me cry)

soft touches • joel miller x reader

↳ by @theeoriginals (fluff, hurt/comfort)

close call • joel miller x reader

↳ by @rogueonestan (hurt/comfort, angst)

first kill • joel miller x reader

↳ by @alloftheimagines (angst, hurt/comfort)

illusory light • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @lavendertales (angst, injuries, fluff)

playing house • joel miller x reader

↳ by @me-and-your-husband (some angst, smut)

try to love me, honey please • joel miller x reader

↳ by @peterhollandkait (hurt/comfort, angst, sad and soft joel, mentions of blood and death)

confused warmth • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @rise-my-angel (angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, smut)

soft spot • joel miller x gn!reader

↳ by @orangevtae (very fluffy, some hurt/comfort, sunshine x grumpy)

love in the time of cordyceps • joel millet x fem! reader

↳ by @sameheart-sameblood (angst, fluff, mentions of blood)

one bed • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @frannyzooey (good old one bed trope, explicit)

sleeping bag • joel miller x reader

↳ by @quin-ns (very fluffy)

lavender haze • joel miller x pregnant!fem!reader

↳ by @forever-rogue (soo fluffy, made my heart flutter)

intent • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @forever-rogue (angst, joel is an asshole, fluff)

[jenosjarofjam]

Now, you're stuck with me forever

Alpha jeno x Omega fem!reader

-Rivals/enemies to lovers

Requested ✔️ @no-romance-for-me-please

Word count: 2k+word.

Warning: smut,abo stuff, a lot I mean a lot of slick, squirting, knotting, cussing, biting/marking, mention of scent, nicknames(princess, good girl, etc...)

An note! This is like my first one shot and abo so hopefully this is not too bad🤞.(I took some prompts idea from Tumblr.)I didn't really dive deep into the rival/enemies part.

Playlist: collide-Justine Skye, Best lover-BiBi

You took the same class with Jeno, both of you were the top 10 students in the whole uni. You vividly remember the first year you met Jeno, Jeno always sat next to you, taunting you when he got higher grades. On the other hand, you studied extra hard because of it, surprisingly Jeno still got a higher grade than you. This went on for months, until the professor decided to pair both of you up for a huge project, now you have no choice but work with him. You guys started texting each other, deadline of the project was approaching, you agreed on letting Jeno into your place to help on the project, another led to another, now he crashes into your place whenever he wants

9:34 a.m

Jeno: Can I come over I’m bored……

Y/n : Since when did you started asking?

Jeno:I’m just trying to be nice rn, I’ll bring you food.

Y/n:awwwwwwwwww are you showing affection to me rn?

Jeno: I want to wrap my hands around your throat, and choke you until the life in your eyes die down.

Y/n: kinky ;)

Jeno: stfu, u freak

Jeno was sitting on the couch, finalising the project while you ate your food. The presence of him was distracting you , you seem to be confused about the reason… but hey no one’s complaining when there’s free food.

You noticed the sun peeking through the curtains, sun ray hitting Jeno’s face, highlighting his features. He’s skin glowed under the sun, his eyes shimmered hazel, his nose- “Hey! Are you even listening to me?Hello? Earth to Y/n?” A voice abrupted your thoughts, you realised you have been unconsciously starring at him, your face blushed in embarrassment about being caught. “Were you starring at me?” He cocked his eyebrow in disbelief, “no- no way why would I be starring at you! You’re.. ugly.” Well that was a lie….. “You’re avoiding eye contac with me? Why’s that?” He grins in enjoyment watching you suffer. “No. NO why would I do that.” “Maybe because you’re into me?” He said poking fun at you. “ wha-what no no no…” “well, you’re looking at me like you want to murder me but also like…you want me.” He smirked, seeing your widened eyes. "*cough* umm I'm gonna go uhh get some water." You said, as you quickly walked to the kitchen. You let out a sigh, feeling like you lost your breathe just the moment before. You felt... feverish, oddly... horny.

You went back talking with Jeno, it still doesn't help the fact that you're thinking about getting pounded by a particular person. The uncomfortable stickiness between your thighs was borderline painful, you tried to ease the pain by crossing your legs...it didn't work. You spaced out looking into Jeno's eyes. "Hey... You should take a rest, you seem tired today," "Yeah..um yeah sorry I'll uh go to my room and get some rest, call me when you need anything." You responded, feeling the awkward tension in the room rise up. Little did you know, your scent was flaring up like crazy, the mix of raspberry jam and cherry blossom was putting off Jeno, the sweet smell of slick was oozing out of your panties, making it awfully hard for Jeno to keep his instincts and not to fuck you senselessly. You scurried off to your room, feeling overwhelmed to the brim. You started researching about random heats, trying to find the reason the sudden neediness. You came across an article about spontaneous heats.

Spontaneous heats-Though rare, there is a phenomenon called Spontaneous Heat, which is when an Omega goes into heat outside of their cycle. The rare cases where it happens include meeting one's perfect match (at which point both heat and rut begin almost immediately)

No way Lee Jeno was destined to be your mate, but you can’t deny he is dreadfully hot, but you definitely didn’t stand a chance to be with him.

All these mix signals are just throwing you over the edge.In spite of that, all you should be worrying right now is about the fact that you’re craving the feeling of Jeno’s dick sliding in and out of you.

You had to find a way to relief the pain, ignoring the fact Jeno is probably outside your room playing video games, you slipped your hand under your panties, stimulating your clit. You bite down on your pillow, trying to muffle your moans.

Jeno was standing outside your room, the scent of a sweet aroma slipping through the door crack is driving him insane. The sound of muffled moans , made it obvious you were touching yourself. The thought of marking you, letting everyone know you’re his. The desire to breed you, filling up your pussy with his cum. How pretty you’ll look when he fucks you until you’re senseless . He feels his body burning, blood rushing to his cock, he couldn’t get you off his mind the entire day, he was just craving to fuck you all day long . Jeno couldn’t hold it anymore, he knew damn way he wanted you, all the pretending was driving him mad.

As you were approaching your high, you closed your eyes and focused on the climax. Yougot so lost in the pleasure, you didn’t even notice that someone was standing in front of your doorway.

"Always so needy for me, having fun without me huh?" You quickly cover yourself, your face burned up in embarrassment, you stared at Jeno and his very prominent erection, the size of his bulge was huge , the sheer thought of it already makes you mouth water, you wondered how it’ll feel in your hand,or even in your tight pussy. “What you looking at?” Jeno interrupts your line of thoughts, but it doesn’t make it better. He's low raspy voice sends chills down your spine. He slowly walks to your bed, kneeling down and staring into your doe-eyes, you quickly turned your head away from his stare, he quickly leans closer, closer to the point you feel his breathe against yours " I asked you y/n, what are you looking at?”. Jeno realises how stupid this is, and pulls away, before you pull him by the collar, his lips crashes into yours, the hunger you both crave for each other is finally getting satisfied, his hands naturally went around your waist as he pulls you closer, goosebumps swarming every part of your body. He pulls away "do you want me to stop?” he asked, trying to reassure you wanted this. You hurriedly answered, longing for more “just the opposite, please” He pushes you on to the bed, now you’re under him.

“Submit yourself,” he demanded, “jeno-” “What did you call me?” he abruptly shouted, making you jolt from the unexpected behaviour. “I’m sorry, al-alpha.” he slowly pulled down your flimsy shorts along with your pink panties, the cold hands made you squirm away from his touch. He quickly put his hands on your hips and pull you in, “Let me take care of you, let me make you feel good, let me make you mine,” he whispers into your ears before he forcefully lifts your head up, now you’re staring at him. He’s eyes filled with lust, the dark orbs felt like they were burning holes in yours. He takes off his shirt, his toned abs, arms bulging with veins, looks just like a wet dream in sight. He spreads your legs further apart, slotting his head between your legs. He started licking your hole, not letting a single drop of slick going to waste, before adding two fingers into your leaking hole, slick dripping to his chin, his nose bumping onto your clit adding the extra sensation, making you moan like crazy. “Fuck, you taste so sweet, taste like mine,”he mumbled, the sound of slurping echoes in your ear, your hand naturally find its way down to his head, you grip firmly on his hair, tugging it slightly letting him know your getting close to your climax. The high he brought you was like shockswaves crashing into you, you arch your back gripping harder onto his hair, you let a breathy gasp as you came all over his face.

“I’m not done with you, yet." His eyes darkened as you reached your hands towards him, freeing his cock out of his confinement, it spring out hitting his abdomen. It was huge, far from the ones you've taken before. He slowly lift your legs up, pushing the tip in you, the stretch was painfully good, you unconsciously clenched around him making him groan, your slick coating his dick making it easier for him to fit. He gave you time to adjust to his length then he slowly thrusted into you. “Fuck- take it like a good omega that you are.” The new feeling of adrenaline came rushing in, your eyes rolled back when he hit the spot that made you see stars. He lets out a low breathy grunt , your creamy velvety walls sucking him in deeper, the tight fit making you feel every inch of him, every single veins dragging in and out of your pussy. He started thrusting in a merciless rhythm, he grabbed your jaw and kissed you roughly, his tongue swirled against yours, the passionate kiss turned into a messy make-out session. His warm lips taking over you, pussy gushing over his dick. "Alpha, I'm close-" you choked out "please, fill me up please.", you feel like time slowed, each thrust felt so sensitive, so good, you feel your vision blurring, the knot in your stomach snapped, you let a long lewd moan as you cum on Jeno's dick. Jeno kept thrusting, ignoring your whines. "Hmm, too much?? Too much for my omega? You were begging for it, you were begging me to fill you up right?? Good girl's keep their promises baby." The sensitivity was too much, you feel your eyes tearing up, you kept clenching on his girth, forming a creamy white ring around the base of his cock.

Jeno used his strength and flip you around, his big hands holding onto your hips, “ass up princess.” You obeyed, feeling a sharp slap on your butt, he swify pushes back in with a one quick thrust. "Plea-se knot- in me al-pha, please, wanna be full of your pups." You pleaded, the thought of being by each other's side everyday, carrying his child, was the best fucking dream ever. "Fuck- You want me to knock you up- huh? Such a slut, such a slut for me. Fuck I'm cumming." He grunted. Jeno grabbed your hair pulling it aside, exposing your bare neck and collarbones, Jeno put his nose on your neck, inhaling your sweet aroma. "Can I mark you- princess, wanna make you mine-" He asked, waiting to get a permission to forever mark you his. "Mark me please, alpha mark me!" Jeno licked the side of your neck, and bit down on it, he licked the blood that was oozing out of the mark. You screamed in pain, but the idea of being his was enough for you to bare the pain. Jeno kept thrusting in you, you feel like your were about to pass out, a new feeling rushed in, not like your typical orgasm. Your now breathy moans echoed the room along with the slapping sound of the skin, you screamed in pleasure as you squirted all over his abs. "S-shit , that was so hot, I'm so close princess." He growled, liquid dripping down your thighs. His thrusts became more sloppy, the raspy low grunts was starting to become smoky moans. You feel his dick twitched in you. He held you closer, gripping onto you harder. With a final push, his knot inflamed, hot white cum covering your walls, you whimpered from the knot's pain. The feeling was way too addictive that you can barely feel the pain now. Jeno lays on you for a few seconds, you can feel his warm breathe against your neck. It took a few seconds for him to recover from his orgasm, he finally broke the silence

"How are you feeling?" He asked genuinely, "Tired and confused...I thought you never liked me..." "Idiot, why would I not like you." "No shit Sherlock, you acted like you hated my guts." You argued

"Well now you're stuck with me forever."

[gadriezmannsgirl]

Hello, is it me you looking for?

Girlieeeee!!! I want to make a very important request ✨😋✨ I need you to do a Pedri fic with the song ✨we can't be friends✨ I need to read something like that from you 😌❤️

Love you very much girlie ❤️❤️❤️

Wait until you like me again. I'll wait for your love... MY LOVE!🎶 I'm so deeply in love with that song, you wouldn't believe it😭

Warnings: I don't think there will be second part to this, full angst, Pedri is somehow clueless, reader is hurting and italics are memories

Can't Pretend -P.G8

Summary: You don't know how long you can keep your act up.

Your best friend, the guy you've known ever since you were two years old. The one who you could rely on, rant to and cry with, has just broken your heart once again. You stood there watching him kiss her as if his life depends on it, hugging her close to him as if he's afraid to lose her.

You wish you were her

It's then when you realise he was looking at you, you tight smiled and walked slowly over to him, your friendship wasn't the same since that day but right now you pushed it aside he had just won the EURO's with Spain, you felt happy for him and his achievement.

"Congratulations, platanito" You said softly maintaning some distance in between the two of you

"Gracias, corazón" The nickname had your chest tighten and you felt like crying, soon you felt his arms around you and you took a deep breath.

You had already made up your mind so you let yourself hug him tightly, some tears escaping your eyes; these being misinterpreted by tears of happiness.

"But don't you cry, I just cried enough for the two of us" He said as you crack a small smile

"Eres campeón de Europa" (You're champion of Europe) You said "How could I not cry if this is something you've always wanted? I feel so proud of you" You caress his cheek lovingly

"You've helped me through all of this too" You shook your head and was about to speak but no words came out, so you just wrapped your arms around him again and let go of the breath you were holding.

"Te quiero muchisimo, mi platanito" (I love you so much, banana boy) Your voice shook lightly

"Y yo a ti, mi corazón" (Love you too)

"Never forget it, please"

"You're my best friend until the day I die, I will never" He gets away for a bit before joining both of your foreheads "Why are you crying so much?"

"I'm just happy, that's all" You sniffed getting away from him, if you stayed one more second you will not be able to do it. "I'll go congratulate the others and then we will take a pic with the throphy, sounds good?" He nods

"See you in a few then" He said "Leila, vamos" He called his six months girlfriend over to congratulate other players and have some pictures of themselves with the throphy.

You dried your tears and walked over to the shark, who was watching you with a small smile

"Mi tiburón" (My shark)

"Mi pececita" (My little fish) He hugs you swinging you side to side

"Congrats, you deserve this win so much" Your voice was shaky

"We all did" He said and you nod "Will you be back?"

"I don't know" You whisper "But I'll try my best to keep in touch"

"I still don't think it's the best option" You shake your head

"Ferran..."

"But I know you need this" You nod thanking him "I'll always be one phone call away" You smile

"So will I"

"You won't stay for the celebrations?" You shook your head

"I can't" He nods

"See you later, then?" You nod hugging him once again

"See you later, my shark" You kiss his cheek "Love you"

"Love you too, little fish. Take care"

You go over to Gavi, Fermín, Lamine and Nico who are dancing and congratulate them with smile on your face and tight hugs. The first two also knew about your decision, they didn't question, they didn't cry, they just hugged you and wished you the best.

You then walked over the González López, Rosy and Fernando didn't know but Fer did, that's why he had this sad and melancholic look on his face as he watched you arrive

"Can't you reconsider it?" You shook your head

"This was a mistake" Pedri says standing up from the bed quicly searching for his clothes

"Pedri"

"We're best friends, we shouldn't have done this"

"You started it"

"And I don't know why I did it! But this can't happen again, we're just friends and that's it"

"Are you serious?"

"Yes, I am! We can forget about this and be friends, like we've always been"

"I have sat in silence for a long time, I can't wait for thim to suddenly like me again and then pretend nothing happened" You looked to the side watching Pedri goof around with Leila "He's happy now"

"What he did was wrong but I can't pay for his mistakes"

"You won't"

"I will be if I'm losing my sister"

"You'll not lose me Fer. I'll always be here for you but I need time for myself"

"I feel like I will, you don't even want to tell me where you are going to"

You sigh "You remember me saying of this famous program in this collegue I really wanted to go?" He nods "They let me in"

"In fucking Australia?! That's so far"

"You can still visit me anytime you want to, I'll keep in touch with you, I promise"

"Promises can be broken"

"I'm not like that and you know it" He sighs fighting the tears

"You want me to go with you to the airport?" You shook your head

"Spain just won the EURO's, your brother's a champion. You need to celebrate with him. I'll let you know whenever I land"

"Please, don't be a stranger" Fer whispers hugging you once again

"I won't, promise" You whisper kissing Fer's cheek.

You start walking before you turn around to watch Pedri laughing and smiling with his girlfriend by his side, he turns around and waves you over. You nod telling him you'll be there in a few minutes, he winks at you and you wink back at him. Soon, he turns around once more paying attention to the story his cousin is telling while you hurry to get out of the stadium.

You open your apartment watching all the packed boxes, his clothes laid on a box that Fer is meant to take later, your sister's helping you with everything and you know you shouldn't go there but you do. In there, lays the pink small bear he gave you at the feria, the small Barce shirt with the 8 fitting the bear in such an adorable way, you smile softly.

"This is ours"

"You won it for me so it's mine"

"I won it but I'm letting you have it everyday so it's ours"

You dig a bit more into the box and find the crystal sphere he gave you in Christmas, you shook it and watched the snow fall slowly

"You're a football player, of course you'll be faster than me!"

"Come on, mi corazón. I gotta give you your christmas present and if you're not fast enough santa's reindeer will take it away!"

You sigh moving your legs faster, running behind him "Liar!"

"So you don't believe in Rudolph, Dasher, Dancer, Vixen, Prancer, Cupid, Comet, Blitzen y Donner?"

"No?"

"Too bad they got me this for you" He lifts a bag

"You asshole making me run for it!" He laughs hard as you try to catch your breath "Did you seriously learned the whole 9 reindeer's names?"

"I did, for you. Yes"

You felt a tear coming down your eye, then you grabbed his 2002 hoodie, you were the first one to ever try a piece of clothing from his collection. You smiled remembering he gave it to you so you could fell asleep in his arms because of the thunderstorm

"Stop" The hoodie was ripped from your hands, you turned around to find your sister, Amelia. "You're only hurting yourself more"

"I can't help it, Meli" Your tears came out

"And that's why we're moving out. So you can pursue your dreams and forget about him"

"What if I don't?"

"You will, Y/N. I know you will"

You leaned down to pick your one year old dog, Zeus into your arms, he licked your tears away "Will I?"

"You will, now stop looking at those. We need to catch a flight"

"When is Fer picking these up?"

"Probably after the celebrations"

"Do you think he'll be mad at me?"

"Maybe he will, maybe he won't. But I know that you need to put yourself first from now on"

"Can I at least have something?"

"It wouldn't be ideal"

"Please, just one little thing and we'll go right away" Amelia sighs but either way nods. You turn around and grab a small bracelet he gave you a few years ago from his box; he's supposed to have the other half but he left it in your apartment some weeks ago before he left for Germany.

You looked at the pictures of you both from babies all the way to teenagers and to the young adults you were now. You sighed before turning around to face Amelia.

"We're ready" You grabbed your suitcases, Zeus's bag, leash and with one more look at your apartment you left, ready to stop hurting, ready to forget about an unrequited love and ready to start your new life.

°°° °°° °°° °°°

Taglist: @gaviymarcsbride @stuckinaf4nfiction @elijahslover @azzpenswrld @http-isabela

[musamora]

𝖓𝖎𝖈𝖐𝖓𝖆𝖒𝖊𝖘 「𝔪𝔲𝔩𝔱𝔦」 ༉‧₊˚

characters. bungou stray dogs. osamu dazai, chuuya nakahara, fyodor dostoevsky, nikolai gogol, sigma.

content. f!reader. mentions of violence, mentions of suicide attempts (dazai), alcohol (chuuya), harassment (chuuya), cussing, general sappiness. not proofread.

author's note. this started as a writing exercise to get my writing inspo flowing again, and then i began working on it on and off for a week. so enjoy! this is also an attempt to nail some of their character's down, so hopefully it isn't too OOC.

would you like to see more? fill out the taglist or comment under this post.

synopsis. what nicknames do the bungo stray dogs boys call their girlfriend?

𝗢𝗦𝗔𝗠𝗨 𝗗𝗔𝗭𝗔𝗜 ⋆⁺₊ ⸺⸺⸺

𝗗𝗘𝗔𝗥 ⋆ 𝗕𝗘𝗟𝗟𝗔𝗗𝗢𝗡𝗡𝗔 ⋆ (𝗡𝗔𝗠𝗘)-𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗡

The darkened alleyway had become thick with the stench of gunpowder and smoke, streetlights barely illuminating your path in the hush of night. You patrolled the area with quick, swift feet, hovering your gun near your hip in case of an ambush. Each step made your heart pound, sweat mixing with humidity to drench your skin as you inched toward the corner.

However, to both your dismay and prediction, Dazai wasn't taking this mission seriously—though he rarely did. It both aggravated and appeased you, knowing that if the situation became dangerous, he'd straighten up in a heartbeat. That didn't mean that his blissed smile and the skip in his step as he went on about the euphoria of death and the many methods he could die from didn't unnerve you.

Knowing him, he wouldn't mind getting shot.

"You know, my dear," he smirked, leaning close to your shoulder to whisper into your ear. "You're very sexy when you're serious." "Dazai," you chided, face stilled into an unamused expression. He fell back dramatically, flailing his hands into the air in surrender. "Oh, belladonna! That stern stare — I hope that beautiful expression is the last sight I see in this cruel world!" he cried, but much to his disdain, you had already rounded the corner, completely done with his antics. "(Name)-channnn!~ Don't leave me hereeee!"

𝗦𝗪𝗘𝗘𝗧𝗜𝗘 ⋆ 𝗛𝗢𝗡𝗘𝗬 ⋆ 𝗪𝗜𝗙𝗘𝗬

It had been a strenuous day at the office for everyone, including you—a plethora of insane missions always followed by mountains of paperwork that never seemed to end. It was almost too much to bear. You huffed, leaning against your hand as you desperately tried to not fall asleep due to your exhaustion.

A pair of large, warm hands rested on your shoulders, massaging just the right spots in your taut muscles. You sighed, allowing yourself to lean back in your chair and enjoy the temporary reprieve. However, the owner of those hands had different plans, hot breath blowing against your ear as he bent down to rest his chin on your shoulder. Dazai chuckled to himself, enjoying your immediate reaction to straighten up, eyes pointed to the screen in an effort to avoid reacting.

You were just too cute.

He cooed out a plethora of sweet nothings in a low, hushed timbre as he tempted a flustered expression out of your face. And one thing that everyone should know about Osamu Dazai—he always gets what he wants when he puts his mind to it.

"Heyyy, sweetie. How's the paperwork going?" You continued to type. "Why won't you pay attention to me!" he wailed, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as he slumped against you. "Come onnn, honey. Don't you love me anymore?" You typed harder. He sniffled. "My little wifey doesn't love me anymore." You paused. "Whaat? Too forward?"

𝗕𝗘𝗔𝗨𝗧𝗜𝗙𝗨𝗟

Only strays wandered the streets at this time of night, but Dazai found himself itching to join them with each passing second. Sleep never easily came to the former demon prodigy. He found that each time he closed his eyes, he was only met with flashes of the past and disillusions of the future. His sharp mind would continue to turn like a machine, processing every granule of information as if he were inspecting an hourglass—a process that had become routine for him.

"Osamu..."

However, your intrusion into his nightfall rituals had soothed his instinctual aches. His eyes glazed over your drowsy figure, admiring the displacement of your hair and the heaviness of your eyes with an emotion he could only describe as awe.

Because in these moments, you didn't even have to be awake and looking at him to make him feel invigorated—feel alive. And with you, he didn't hate being alive anymore, didn't hate acknowledging his human flaws and issues. He just embraced it, even for only a second.

The rational part of his brain dissipated when he felt your warm, bare skin brush against his bandages, snuggling up to him. He knew his brain became useless in your presence, overcome with pure adulation for your mind, your body, and your very soul. So instead, he pulled you close, nuzzling his face in your neck and listening to the rhythmic pulse of your heart as it worked to soothe him to sleep.

"Good night, beautiful."

𝗖𝗛𝗨𝗨𝗬𝗔 𝗡𝗔𝗞𝗔𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗔 ⋆⁺₊ ⸺⸺⸺

𝗕𝗔𝗕𝗘

The murmurs of the restaurant had been dampened by a luxurious and vast velvet curtain, enclosing the entire booth to separate you from the other patrons. Lights sparkled from a dazzling chandelier, creating ribbons of gold and white on the tablecloth. This was a special occasion since you rarely had dates outside of your apartment. Chuuya always wanted to take you out more often, to show you off and treat you to the finest, but there never was time. So even when you insisted you could stay inside for a date this evening, he had already planned on spoiling you rotten.

He watched your expression between folded hands, hiding his smirk as the waiter set down an extremely expensive bottle of red wine. You had insisted on getting the more recent and cheaper version, not wanting to splurge too much—which, of course, insulted him. How could he not provide the best for his partner whenever he got the chance?

"Stop gaping, babe," he tutted at your widened eyes, tone lighter than the biting edge it usually held. "Whaddya say we snap over the 1959 Chateau Latour, hm?"

𝗗𝗢𝗟𝗟 ⋆ 𝗕𝗔𝗕𝗬

You had been working the late shift at your office building, slaving the day away only to come out on the other side with an aching back and a small paycheck. Despite Chuuya's suggestion that you could quit your job and let him take care of you, you wanted to maintain your independence and some additional money, which he understood. So here you were, trudging home from the train station with heavy feet and tired eyes. Seeing the apartment complex in the distance made your heart soar, a pep in your step as you started to practically glide down the sidewalk.

"Heyyyy, baby. Lookin' good tonight. That outfit for me, huh?"

Grimacing, you ignored the disgusting cat-calls from the random stranger in favor of increasing your speed to reach the building. You could practically smell the woody cologne coming from Chuuya's jacket, but your blissful thoughts were interrupted by a set of hefty footsteps behind you. This would've been normal during the day, but no one else is out this late at night—except one person.

With tremoring fingers, you lifted your cell phone ever-so-slightly, finding that strange man walking at a brisk pace behind you in the reflection. It set off too many alarm bells in your head, and your walking turned into sprinting.

It just so happened that Chuuya was leaning on one of the pillars outside of your apartment complex. He never liked when you worked the late-shift, and he definitely didn't like when you walked home by yourself—however, you had insisted that you would be fine. He relented, enjoying the independent aspect of your personality, but he still had his precautions.

He straightened up with a passive expression when he saw your shadowed silhouette in the distance, but his eyes narrowed, and his shoulders tensed once he spotted the man who was running after you. Using his gravity manipulation, he pulled you closer to him and had the pervert sink into the ground, sizing him up with burning eyes.

His gloved hand went to your back, easing your trembling body. "Go inside, baby. You don't need'ta be involved in this shit." He watched carefully as you rushed inside the lobby, before slamming the man onto the hard concrete, a foot digging into his spine. "Listen, shithead. You ever look at my doll again, I fucking swear to God—" He never let you walk home alone after this, not like you were complaining much. And that man would never bother you again, if he was even still capable of walking.

𝗣𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗖𝗘𝗦𝗦

It had been an absolutely draining day for Chuuya. With his position as an executive, you would assume that he wouldn't have to deal with the low-life freeloaders that the Port Mafia was bound to have, but it was exactly the opposite. He had been stuck for hours finishing a bunch of incident reports due to the destruction of properties on the southwestern side of Yokohama—incidents he was somehow not involved in.

He groaned as he entered the apartment, shrugging off his jacket and hanging it with his hat before a hearty aroma hit him. He followed his nose to the stove, finding an intricately wrapped dish with a note taped on top.

Make sure you eat before you go to bed. You need to grow big and strong. Love you! ♥

If it were from anyone else, he would've ripped the note apart when he hit the jab at his height—and he definitely scowled a bit—but there was a hint of endearance in his expression. He lifted the tin foil covering the food, feasting on the sight of penne alla vodka.

A raspy sound took him out of his ogling, his eyes scanning the darkened living room to find the one person he had been dying to see—you. And what a sight you were, drool trailed down your chin, a half-empty dish of pasta lying limply in your arms, and hair tousled as your neck bent at an awkward angle to rest against the cushions.

He couldn't help a small laugh at the sight, placing your plate on the coffee table and wiping the baby hairs out of your face, leaving a fleeting kiss on your forehead. In moments like this, with the disarray and train wreck his life had been, he found himself grateful for such simple, domestic sights. It enveloped him in a sense of peace, feeling at home for the first time.

"Hey, princess," he whispered with another peck to your temple. "I'm home."

𝗙𝗬𝗢𝗗𝗢𝗥 𝗗𝗢𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗘𝗩𝗦𝗞𝗬 ⋆⁺₊ ⸺⸺⸺

The pet names featured below are in Russian.

𝗗𝗘𝗔𝗥

Fyodor rarely, if ever, used nicknames of any kind in public. With his specific occupation, it would be detrimental to reveal any kind of attachment to anyone, regardless of whether you were capable of defending yourself. However, rarely does not mean never.

It was an unusual occasion; a completely public date at a local café—you knew that he loved his tea and suggested it in the off-chance that it would possibly sway him to join you. You assumed that he'd say no, but he always found himself having a hard time denying you when you proposed it so sweetly.

However, you knew that you needed to be efficient with your time. You enjoy each other's company in a secluded corner of the café while also multitasking on your own work. The room emitted a wonderful ambiance that made you feel productive and inspired, though it was simultaneously cozy enough to relax in—for you, that was. Most of Fyodor's work required him to be in seclusion, so instead he enjoyed the view—both of the skies outside and a couple of stray glimpses at you.

"Drink for (Name)," a barista called.

Fyodor looked toward you expectantly, but you were far too in your own little world to notice. He would've normally broken your workflow, but he found himself oddly compelled to let you continue—he was awfully fond of the way your brows narrowed as you concentrated. So instead, he retrieved your drink, settling it on the table with a small clink.

"Here you are, dear."

𝗠𝗜𝗟𝗔𝗬𝗔 (милая) ⋆ 𝗥𝗔𝗗𝗡𝗔𝗬𝗔 (радная) ⋆ 𝗟𝗨𝗕𝗜𝗠𝗔𝗬𝗔 (любимая)

It was in the privacy of your shared home that his native tongue came out, engrossing you with his rich Russian accent—he knew the effect it had on you, so sometimes he toyed around with you by slipping it into everyday interactions.

You walked into his computer room, careful to not trip on wires as you carried in a steaming thermal mug of fresh black tea. He was often far too engrossed in his work to eat or drink, so you found the least you could do was to make him some tea whenever you weren't busy.

You placed it next to him, leaning over to take a curious glance at the screen—not understanding a word of it—and you were about to silently exit when he placed a cold hand on top of yours. Your brow raised, watching the smile that appeared on his lips.

"Thank you, милая." You sputtered over your words at the praise, watching in anticipation as he took a sip. He hummed at the nectarous flavor, slouching as the tea worked to soothe his throat. The tea circled in the mug as he swirled it, watching carefully as he could feel your composure melt away. "Delicious as always, радная." You mumbled a quick thank you, turning like a gazelle on your heel to escape his predatory gaze, but his hand pulled you back. Completely captive in his hold, you looked back, a knowing smirk on his face. "Stay for a moment, любимая. I'd like to hear your thoughts on something."

𝗠𝗬𝗦𝗛𝗞𝗔 (мышка)

You honestly had no clue how you had gotten into this position.

One moment, you were cleaning around various rooms, making sure everything was dusted and organized. The next, you were sitting in Fyodor's lap—though you couldn't say you minded. An occasional hum vibrated against the top of your head as Fyodor concentrated on a book in one hand, the other fastened securely around your waist, rubbing circles into the clothed skin.

It took every ounce of self-control you had to limit your face to a neutral glance, staring at the words in his Russian novel as if you were trying to decipher them—you were; you didn't know a lick of the language. You leaned against his shoulder, listening to the faint thump of his heartbeat as it lured you into relaxation. His eyes began to drift from the page, finding your internal struggle incredibly amusing. He titled his face, holding back a smirk when you made a startled noise from a kiss to the temple.

Cute.

In these moments, he felt human again. Everywhere else in the world, he was either treated as a god or a demon—and that was the way he had orchestrated it. But here, in the home you both created, he felt that he had finally received his sanctuary. A place where he sat, welcomed and unjudged for his sins.

"You're quite warm, мышка," he teased. "Perhaps you are developing fever. Hm?"

𝗡𝗜𝗞𝗢𝗟𝗔𝗜 𝗚𝗢𝗚𝗢𝗟 ⋆⁺₊ ⸺⸺⸺

The pet names featured below are in Ukrainian.

𝗟𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗜𝗩𝗞𝗔 (ластівка)

The fluorescent lights above burned your eyes as you scoured the aisles of the store aimlessly. You were on your weekly grocery run but had decided to make something different for dinner this week. There was only one problem—you didn't know where the ingredients were. You normally would've just asked one of the staff members, but you had unfortunately come into the store at a very late hour. Every time you looked at an employee, their eyes were glazed over as if wishing for the sweet release of death. So you decided to search on your own.

You scanned the shelves for a particular dressing, not finding it in its usual spot. It was only with a quick glance to the top shelf that you found it, teetering on the edge as if tempting you. Gritting your teeth, you outstretched your arm as you braced your other one on a lower shelf, only to shriek at the feeling of two hands supporting your hips. You whipped around to find the pervert who had touched you but found nothing. And then you looked down.

Damn him.

Two familiar gloves emerged from golden portals, and a mischievous chuckle accompanied their exit from down the aisle. You looked the white-haired jester up and down, crossing your arms with a pout.

"Did you have to startle me like that?" "Ohhh, sorry, ластівка," he cooed. "I only want to say hello!~"

𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘𝗡𝗞𝗔 𝗠𝗢𝗬𝗔 (маленька моя) ⋆ 𝗠𝗢𝗬𝗔 𝗞𝗢𝗞𝗛𝗔𝗡𝗔 (моя кохана)

How did you manage to get into this mess?

Oh yeah, Nikolai suggested it.

The classic jester, in his hobby of wreaking havoc everywhere he goes, suggested a fun date-night idea—to light bin fires around the alleys of Yokohama until the police caught on. At first, you had been chasing after him in an attempt to stop him, but it had all been in vain. He would let you grab him, only to chuckle as he teleported away with his cape. So instead, you opted to stick by his side and make sure he didn't cause too much harm.

You stood a couple of feet away from the blazing fire, your body resting in the tranquil glow of the chaotic light. Despite the oddities that came with the situation—and every situation that involved Nikolai—there was something so welcoming about the discord. Perhaps you had finally become used to Nikolai's antics. The aforementioned jester had been gaping at you for some time, an unreadable expression on his face as he watched your features through the fire.

"You look breathtaking in the glow of a flame, маленька моя."You stilled at his serious tone, fumbling over a response, but a crescendoing wail of sirens broke the silence. Nikolai smirked, grabbing your arm with one hand as the other went into his overcoat. "Oops!~ Looks like the police caught on. Come on, моя кохана! This way!"

𝗗𝗨𝗦𝗛𝗔 𝗠𝗢𝗬𝗔 (душа моя)

A refreshing breeze rushed past your face as you settled, watching the sun make its descent below the horizon of the city's harbor. Your legs dangled dangerously over the edge of a steep cliffside, yet you found no fear remaining in your heart. Perhaps you have become accustomed to a life of chaos; find beauty in the entropy and contradictions of life.

Nikolai couldn't help but stare at your face as it was outlined by the shadows of the dying sunbeams, awe-struck by your beauty. You were ethereal to him, everything he ever wanted to be and wished to have—so grounded and yet freer than ever. He knew that the relationship between you two, something neither of you had dared to label, should've made him feel constricted. It tied him down to the ground, and he should've been fighting for the skies.

But he didn't.

He felt free. And he knew that it was most likely his heart tricking him, stringing him to a relationship that would disappear with the wind—that he had truly become the fool everyone thought of him as. But he didn't care. Not anymore. Not with you by his side.

He snapped out of his philosophical contemplation as a soft hand cupped his cheek, thumbing at the performative mask that he wore. And he folded it like a deck of cards, removing it before placing a chaste kiss on your palm.

"Somehow, I feel freer than ever before. And it's all thanks to you, душа моя."

𝗦𝗜𝗚𝗠𝗔 ⋆⁺₊ ⸺⸺⸺

𝗗𝗘𝗔𝗥 ⋆ 𝗗𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗧

It was a known fact that the Casino's manager had a rigid schedule, packed with meetings and event dates that he had to prepare for. Everything had to run perfectly inside his casino, and he would be damned if it didn't. However, Sigma always made it a mission to purposefully bump into you throughout the day. He had memorized your schedule easily, finding that there was only so much you could do in a finite building in the sky.

He would often find you either in the library or viewing deck, either in your own world reading a book or watching the real world from the skies. Even he had to admit that he could never get tired of the sight of the Earth from down below, contemplating the lives of those who lived on the ground.

"Good morning, dear," he greeted you at the entrance of the viewing deck, noticing a stack of books in your arms. "I see your trip to the library went well." "It was. I'm going to thumb through the newest shipment of fiction novels this afternoon," you replied, your hand already tapping on one of the hardcovers in anticipation. Sigma always made sure to buy the best books for the casino, and you knew he was often swayed by your own favorites. "I'm glad you're so interested in them." He knowingly smiled before a memory came to mind. "Could you hold off your reading for one moment, dearest? I've received a new layout for our casino's fliers and was hoping you'd take a look."

𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 ⋆ 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗟𝗬 ⋆ 𝗦𝗪𝗘𝗘𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗧

The anxious casino manager often forgot to eat because of his destructive work habits, often going hours without consuming anything in order to constantly maintain peace in his casino. It was a terrible habit that caused more stress for both of you, so you decided to enact a plan. Whenever you noticed his workload was becoming too much or he seemed too frazzled, you'd step in to make sure he was getting everything he needed.

A small (underlying word: large) part of him secretly reveled in this, both having the opportunity to be doted on—and be simultaneously scolded—while also relishing in a couple stress-free moments with you. And he also gets to enjoy your cooking, which he personally found better than the casino chefs'—but that's because he was biased.

On his worst days, you'd prance into his office after the casino lunch rush, carrying in tow a small bento packed with his favorite comfort foods and a cookie for dessert. He would look up from whatever paperwork he was slaving away on, a small smile on his tired face.

"Thank you, my love." "You really need to eat more, Sigma," you lectured, placing the bento on his desk to take his face into your hands, analyzing his eye-bags with a concerned expression. "You're gonna get sick." "I'm fine, lovely," he replied, cupping your hands with his own. "You don't need to worry about me." You struck him with a pointed glare, crossing your arms and tapping your foot as he began to work on paperwork again. The clock ticked by a couple of seconds, your maternal scowl deepening with each moment that passed where he didn't reach for the food. "Sweetheart," he sighed before relenting and reaching for the bento. "Fine. For you, I'll eat some. But only until C4276 finishes his blackjack game."

𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 𝗢𝗙 𝗠𝗬 𝗟𝗜𝗙𝗘

The casino had been blasting with the sounds of the band in full swing long into the night, people dancing and chatting amongst themselves as the casino reached the peak of its ability. This new gala had been an exhilarating success, drawing in new patrons as cash flowed out from dealers' hands. It had been perfect, but it was obviously a lot on Sigma.

That was the reason you insisted on co-hosting it with him. He watched in amazement as you worked the crowd tonight, acting in concert to keep the patrons happy and to maintain order. You had been his perfect match, which showed just how much you watched over the casino.

He found you later that night standing on your private balcony, pausing at the entry to fully take in how beautiful you looked in your formal ensemble. The stars seemed to drift to your body like a satellite, casting you in a distant heavenly glow. But everything was silent as if you two were the only ones left to watch over the world as the clouds wandered by.

The anxiety and fear he always felt had been pushed to the side, melting away with the utter sense of belonging that you had engrained into him. You had shown him that he wasn't a mediocre man but a capable and strong individual capable of loving and being loved. You turned as the balcony door shifted open, welcoming him into both your arms and heart.

And he fell for you even more.

"Ohh, love of my life," he mumbled, nuzzled into your shoulder. "What would I be without you?"

милая = dear/darling радная = dear любимая = beloved мышка = mouse ластівка = swallow (bird) маленька моя = my little one моя кохана = my love душа моя = my soul

TAGLIST: @imhandicapableofmath @seisitive @solandiss @ruru-kiss @sillyspookycat @kotysluny

© MUSAMORA 2023 — do not repost or modify my works for any reason. do not steal graphics w/o explicit permission. reblogs are appreciated.

[anonimusunnoaniswriting]

𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐒𝐎 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐞.

Characters: Gojo, Toji, Sukuna, Geto, Nanami

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1505

Warnings: Reader is extremely sub coded with Sukuna, but otherwise no warnings really.

NOTE: Although there isn't any smut in this my blog is still very much an adult blog. Anyone under 18 please refrain from interacting with my posts.

𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮

Gojo sleeps like a comfortable cat. He sprawls out over the bed taking up as much space as he can, while also being as close to you as possible. Of course, he can tell when you make even the slightest movement. 

He doesn't like waking up though. He'll crack open an eye to look at you and survey what the problem is. 

Sometimes it's just you going to pee, in which case he cuddles you when you're back. Sometimes you get up and have a bit of water from your bedside table for this he doesn't bother moving at all. 

This time however he realises something is wrong. You're sitting up in bed breathing heavily. He immediately gets up. “What's wrong pookie bear?” he asks. When you don't roll your eyes at the cringey nickname he uses he understands it's probably bad. 

He holds you in his arms and you whisper, as if afraid that any loud noise will shatter the safe space around you. “I dreamed of you… You were dancing around the edge of a volcano and you fell in.” You shudder. Gojo cracks a smile.  

“Is that all then? I’d be fine!” He reassures you, patting your back. “It's just a little volcano!” 

Tears start falling from your face, “TORU! We didn't even have a body to bury!!” 

Gojo takes your face in his hands and makes you look into his brilliant blue eyes. “Baby, I will NEVER fall into a volcano…” You nuzzle into his shoulder and his hand rubs your back, a gesture that calms you down. “And even if I did – I wouldn't die. I'm the strongest, remember?” He grins all cocky. 

You roll your eyes but concede. He's right… He is the strongest. It would take more than falling into a volcano to kill him.

𝐅𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢

Fushiguro Toji isn't always the kindest, but he really can't bear seeing you suffer. Usually after putting you to sleep, he likes to stay up and have another drink or make himself a snack while he watches some races on the TV or an action movie of some kind. 

Later at night, he might crawl into bed with you, picking you up and laying you on top of him like a human blanket. And some nights he falls asleep on the couch, TV still on, the plate and glass on the floor. 

One night he puts you to bed and is watching an action movie. Beer in one hand tilting dangerously as he gets drowsy. 

“What a boring fucking film.” He scolds the screen, deciding to turn it off and head to the welcoming softness of your bed. 

He enters the room to find you sitting up, knees to your chest softly sobbing. He tiptoes to you quietly, careful to not startle you. 

“Ummm… are you okay?” 

You move your head some way but it's indecipherable to Toji. He pats your back awkwardly. He asks again, hesitantly, “Did I do something honey?” trying to wrack his brain for anything he might have done to upset you. He had broken a mug a few days ago but didn't think it would be a big deal. He'd already shown you and told you he would get you a new one and you had assured him it wasn't a problem. So what was it? 

Suddenly he felt your arms wrap around his waist. “Toji…” 

He holds you closer. “What's up, buttercup?” 

“Would you leave me without telling me?” 

He furrows his brows. “What are you talking about doll?”

“I had a nightmare that you left. Just packed up and went away and I had no idea where you were, or what happened!” Your tears start falling with renewed vigour. 

Toji lifts you like a cat and sits down on the bed, placing you in his lap. Your tear-streaked face looking at him expects an answer but he isn't sure he can give you one. He knew his work could be uncertain; which was also why he had hesitated getting into a relationship with you in the first place. It was why he’d always been more of a ‘wham bam thank you, ma’am’ kinda guy so now, faced with a question like this he can’t think of anything to do but just hold you squishing your head under his chin. “I’m here aren’t I?” 

𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐑𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧

Sukuna Ryomen is a nightmare.

However, on rare occasions, he can be… comforting – in his signature Sukuna way of course. 

He doesn't bother with human functions like sleeping, but you need to so he likes to make you sleep on him. If he’s sitting up and reading then he likes having your head on his lap. If he’s eating, you’re resting on his shoulder. If he’s not feeling too touchy but still wants you to be near him somehow, he will make you sleep by his feet. You're his little human after all. 

But Sukuna likes to take special care of his toys; so when one day you jolt awake at his feet, he lifts you onto his lap. Sitting you down so he can see your face clearly, he asks you what happened, not forgetting to call you a brat of course. 

“It was a nightmare,” you say quietly not wanting to reveal much. 

Of course, this wouldn’t be a satisfactory answer to the King of Curses. “Explain yourself woman!” he squeezes your cheeks between his fingers and thumb. 

“You! You were torturing me.” you cry out feeling his nails against your skin. 

He takes the opportunity to kiss your lips with your face still dwarfed in his massive hand. “There there, my little princess.” And licks a tear rolling down your cheek. “You know I’m not going to mistreat my playthings.” 

He continues saying, “Besides, if I wanted you dead, you would be. I wouldn’t waste my time torturing you.” And that would be the end of that conversation, but you would notice that in his own way, he would be a tiny bit gentler with you from then on… 

𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮

Geto Suguru is a man not unfamiliar with nightmares. So when you have one he knows what to do. What he wishes he had when he experiences the same…

He'll clasp you in a tight embrace, squeezing you close to his chest. 

He knows how terrifying it can be and how realistic nightmares feel even if in retrospect they are absolutely ridiculous. 

Geto wakes up hearing a thud and you crying out, “No!”

“What's wrong babe?” he asks, still half asleep voice drawling. He pushes himself up on his arms to take a look at you. 

You're clutching your head with a pained expression, tears filling your eyes. “I had a bad dream.” 

He takes your hand and pulls you towards him, letting you push your nose into his chest. “Did you hit your head on the bedside table too?” He asks slightly amused but still gentle. 

“I was trying to save you, you ungrateful man!” you admonish. 

“Save me?” Geto chuckles, “What from?” You murmur something that he can't make out. 

“Mmm, what was that?” He asks again teasingly. 

“Gojiraaa!” you say, clearer this time the embarrassment evident in your burning cheeks. 

Geto laughs. “Baby… You know I can fight him, right? Easily.” He pauses and then, “Or I could just throw you at him and run. You don't have to worry he won’t get me.” 

You stare at him annoyed, “You know what? He can eat you, I don't care.” 

𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨

Nanami Kento is a cuddler. So he knows immediately when you've had a bad dream. He's up before you, hearing you whimper and feeling your body tremble against him. He'll wake you up, hold you close. Bring you some water to drink and stroke your hair. 

He likes to speak to you gently to wake you up, slowly drawing you out of whatever nightmare was eating at you. His deep voice is soothing to hear even in your subconscious. 

You blink your eyes open. There's this dull feeling of terror that's fading away as your surroundings come into focus. 

“My love? I'm here. Wake up for me.” That's your partner's voice. Your Nanaminmin. You feel the warmth of his embrace and snuggle into his broad chest. It's safe. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

“Shibuya again…” 

Nanami rubs circles into your back wishing desperately that the trauma of the past would stay there. But even if that wasn't to be, at least he could hold you. Love you. He lowers his head to place a chaste kiss on the top of your hair. “It's over my love. I'm here. I'm alive. They couldn't take me from you…” 

He keeps murmuring to you as you hold onto him clutching at his arms. The feeling of terror; not so alien but thankfully fading. He was home. With you. You still had him. Right beside you. He was there. He slowly rocked you back to sleep closer than ever and this time when you slept there were no more nightmares…

A/N: Thank you for reading! I'm open to feedback and do let me know if you find any grammatical errors that i might have over looked.

Also i reject canon. Nanami is alive. Shibuya happened but he was saved. i know i was there. i dragged his half dead body to safety ok bye.

[lovelynicho]

&team - what kind of petnames they would use

Pairing: &team x gn!reader

Genre: fluff, a little suggestive at some

Warnings: a little suggestive at K and Nicholas

Note: english is not my first language I apologise for any mistakes!

Masterlist

K

Honey/babe

He mostly calls you honey. He thinks it's cute and sweet (literally) just like you. So when you're on a date or make breakfast together or basically anytime of the day he uses this petname. But when the mood gets heated he doesn't feel like using such a cute name. So in bed he prefers to call you babe.

Fuma

Angel

Fuma is such a soft and kind person. He would use the sweetest petnames for you but his number one choice is angel. This is because he thinks you really are an angel.... Because you're incredibly kind hearted, and because you're unbelievably beautiful. He really thinks you're an angel from heaven.

Nicholas

Baby

I think it's self explanatory. Just the way Nicholas' voice sounds.... and how good would baby sound from his mouth (sorry). I think he would call you baby 24/7 because he just thinks it's adorable and it suits you so much. And when things get heated he still calls you baby, but in a very teasing way....

EJ

Sweetheart

He's a cutie. And he thinks you're a cutie too. So that's why he calls you sweetheart. It also feels so personal to him, because you really are in the sweetest part of his heart. And the way he looks at you, full of love, every single time he calls you this.

Yuma

Sunshine

You always know how to make him smile, how to make him laugh like he just lost control. And you are so beautiful, literally mesmerising. He believes sometimes you shine even brighter than the sun itself. So that's why he likes calling you sunshine.

Jo

Your name (nickname)/cutie

He's shy. He blushes even when you call him by a petname you have for him. So he usually just calls you by your name, it's just more comfortable for him. However, sometimes he mumbles cutie under his breath because he just can't resist the urge.

Harua

Darling

Harua is a sweet guy. When your relationship started to get more serious he wanted to call you something that sounds at least as beautiful as you look. One day 'darling' just slipped out and he realised that it's literally perfect for you. It's beautiful, just like you.

Taki

Sweetie

He's a silly guy. He uses all kinds of petnames but his favourite for you is sweetie. He just thinks you're the cutest, prettiest, sweetest human being on this earth so in his opinion, this name really suits you. He also likes to use it in a teasing manner.

Maki

My love

You are his first love. You were the one who introduced him to this unfamiliar feeling, when you love someone so much, you need to hear their voice every day or you feel like you'd die. Actually he likes calling you 'love' in general, but putting 'my' before it feels more personal to him.... and also he might be just a little bit possessive.

[noceurous]

soon

summary: seeing your ex after breakup is not that bad. right? warnings: alcohol consumption, swearing, toxic relationships, toxic behaviour, blood, angst, smut (18+), phone sex, oral (f receiving), some kinks, usage of petnames and nicknames (baby, little one, good girl, sergeant), open ending. minors dni. a/n: sorry for not posting sooner. i am trying to be more active. please leave comments/reblogs i appreciate them. divider is by @saradika

You raised your head at the loud knocking on your door. You headed there without hesitation just to stop knocking before the poor material would break. 

“I’m here!” you yelled just before you opened the door, ready to fight whoever was on the other side for making that much noise.

But you weren’t ready to see the large-built man looking at you. His eyes wide with desperation, his hands were clutching the deep bloody wound on his abdomen. You could see the red liquid peaking through his fingers and how paler his skin was from the last time you saw him.

He got inside before you could speak, crimson droplets dropping onto your dark wood floors. He headed to the kitchen immediately, knowing where you stashed the first aid kit. 

After closing the door you followed him to the kitchen. Careless enough to slip onto the bloodstains on the floor; marking your path with some parts of your footprint. The courage to speak came back to you when you saw how his red fingers rummage through the box

“Sit, I can do it.” Your voice must be slightly above a whisper, but he heard you. He hoisted himself onto the kitchen counter, lifting his shirt to reveal the deep gash.

You didn’t flinch. This wasn’t the worst wound you’d seen, but it was serious enough that he wouldn’t be here if it weren’t.

“Should I ask how this happened?” you murmured, knowing him too well that he wouldn’t give you any satisfying answer.

You rolled your eyes at his silence, tossing the dirty cotton pad into the trash. “You’ll need stitches,” you said, picking up the needle with steady hands.

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath. You hated that you knew how to do this, all thanks to him coming to you instead of a hospital, trusting you over professionals.

You were glad to see your clear work. A result of patching him up after dangerous missions for years. “This will do,” you murmured as you pulled his top down. He didn’t say anything, just hopped off the counter and headed back to your door.

“What? Not even a thank you?” you snapped as you cleaned after him. Scrubbing off the half dried blood from your white marble. You knew better to expect him to give you something to unravel.

He could have just gotten it in a bar fight, if he had time left after the missions he was attending.

He stopped after you spoke up, turning back to you. “I thought you didn’t want me to talk to you anymore,” he said, arrogantly.

You shrugged. “I’d also like you to go to a hospital instead of coming to me in the middle of the night. Since you already broke one rule...” you explained as you took out the mop to clean the blood on the floor.

“You are closer. Would you really want me to bleed to death instead of coming to see you?”

Maybe.

You threw your hand in the air, “Can’t you teach this stuff to your girl? Besides, we both know you can’t die from this.”

“I am not seeing anybody.”

You bit your lip and gave him a nod, unsure of how to respond. It had been a few months since you last saw him. You could not remember the last time you hoped for him to come back. The nights you spent turning in your bed as he came to your mind, and not knowing what or who he was doing, seemed too far to you.

When you broke up, he didn’t give you any explanation except that he was not happy. He told you there was no one else, but he was too much of a flirt for you to believe him.

“Still, I’d prefer you to get actual medical care,” you said, pointing to his blood-drenched clothes.

His usual smirk appeared. “Maybe next time, if your place is farther.” You chuckled, shaking your head.

“Or at least try to stay away from trouble.”

“You know trouble finds me, little girl. I’m innocent.” You hid your smile as the familiar nickname brought back memories.

“Yeah, I’m sure the opponent from the fight thought the same,” you said. Your fingers brushed the top of his jeans, following the trace of the washed denim.

You didn’t realize how close you were until your fingers touched him easily. He was towering over you, his warm breath fanning over your face.

“Well, everybody is entitled to their opinions,” he said as he cupped your face, licking his lips as his thumb brushed against your cheek.

You tried your best not to look at his lips or eyes, which were famous for hypnotizing you. “I’ll see you soon,” he said, taking a few steps back.

Before opening the door, he took one more look at you and smiled. Your heart ached at seeing him at your doorsteps to leave again. You tried to come up with a reply but realized you were too late as he had already turned his back to you. 

Maybe this is better, you thought. He was always better at saying the last word.

You held your breath as you pulled up the zipper of your dress. The fabric was tight, hugging your curves, and though it wasn’t the most comfortable, it made you look better than you had hoped.

A girls' night out would be good for you. You needed a distraction after seeing the bloody tools from the previous night in the trash. You couldn’t stay at home all night, hoping Bucky would come back to you injured. 

It was not healthy.

You felt your head lighten because of the alcohol finally entering your bloodstream. This also meant that your guard was down, and you were not expecting to see him with his arm wrapped around a girl’s shoulder, talking with his friends. 

Of course, he would appear when you least expect him.

“You okay, sweetie?” your friend asked, her eyes snapping back to you after sending daggers in his direction.

“Been better, but also been worse, so it’s okay,” you said as you looked down. You felt the familiar weight settled on your chest, burning and pressuring your lungs.

“We can leave if you want. No hard feelings.” She put on a soft smile on her face, her hand rested on your shoulder. 

You dropped your shoulders as you reached for your half empty glass. “No, I’d run into him eventually. Let’s not let him ruin this night as well.”

A few more drinks later, you had to go to the ladies' room. As you were washing your hands, you saw your reflection in the mirror.

You looked a bit flushed, not sure whether it was from the drinks or the anger coming from seeing your ex with another girl. 

You fixed your makeup slightly and opened the door to leave.

A cheeky smile and steel blue eyes have greeted you before you could make your way to your table. You weren’t surprised; you knew he would find a way to get into your radar. Fire and gunpowder, never good to keep them close.

“Are you here to make sure that I stay out of trouble, little girl?” he smiled as he cocked his head to the side.

“Can’t I get a night out too? Just like you’re doing...”You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest. 

His eyes scanned your figure, lingering on your legs exposed by the short skirt, and he licked his lips appreciatively. He was always a fan of short dresses of yours. “It’s sad that you never wore this dress to one of our night outs. To be fair, I’m not sure whether we could have the opportunity to leave the bed if I saw you in this.” He raised his eyebrows, eyes couldn’t leave your exposed skin.

“This is a new dress, for new opportunities.” You answered as he leaned over you, cornering you between him and the wall. He placed his hand on the wall next to your head.

“You’re too good to be playing those games with stupid boys. You don’t need a dress, just a smile is more than enough.” He was getting too close, you were sure if you leaned in just a little, your lips would be touching.

He sucked in his lower lip before he eyed you up and down again. “If you were mine again...” he muttered under his breath.

Before you could utter a word, you heard someone, probably his date, calling out for him. He took a step back, raising his hands. “I love these little meetings of ours. Looking forward to the next one,” he said as he placed a kiss on your cheek.

You felt like the air in your lungs escaped when you felt his cold lips touch your skin. His face lingered above yours after the kiss, just to see your reaction. “I can’t wait,” he whispered as he went back to his friends.

It was the middle of the night. You dozed off after watching some movie on your laptop. An arm wrapped around a pillow and your cheek pressed on the other.

You groaned when you felt the vibrations under your pillow. You had forgotten your phone under the pillow before you drifted to sleep. You could not open your eyes fully to see the caller ID, just enough to press the answer button.

“Hello?” you mumbled, your other hand going to your eye, rubbing it gently. You hoped that it was not an emergency.

“Fuck, I’ve missed your sleepy voice.” His voice was enough to jolt you awake, making you sit up in bed.

“Bucky? What time is it?”

“Not late enough for me to call you.” He groaned under his breath. “What are you wearing?”

“Bucky—”

“You cannot dodge my question after I saw you in that dress. ‘Made me remember the old times.”

“Those times are old for a reason.”

“You can’t tell me that you don’t miss the time in California.” You bit your lip, recalling the memory of the two of you.

You begged your boss for a week of paid vacation days for you to have a summer trip with Bucky. As always you wore bikinis that covered very little, blaming the heat, and sunbathed next to him, trying to ignore his wandering hands.

He chuckled at your silence. “Yeah? That’s what I thought. I can still close my eyes and see you laying with the blue bikini bottom you wore.”

“And I couldn’t sunbathe properly because seconds later you were on me, and we ended up having sand everywhere.”

“Can’t blame me. You have a body that would drive a man insane.” You’ve heard him shuffle and the sound of a zipper. Knew pretty well where this was heading as you laid down. “Now be a good little girl and tell me what you are wearing.”

“The tshirt that says ‘cotton candy baby’.” You answered him. You swore you could hear his heart skip a beat and a second of silence proved you right. 

“The one that can’t even cover your butt?”

“It’s too hot, Bucky.” You whine, shifting in your bed. Your fingers dancing on your naked thighs, getting closer to the elastic band of your panties.

“Not hot as you wore that costume on my birthday, I didn’t fuck you enough that day.”

“I couldn’t sit for three days. You fucked me more than enough.”

“Could’ve been five with a pussy like yours. So tight and warm around me. Shit, it’s too hot isn’t it? Why don’t you take your top off, and squeeze a nipple for me? I know you don’t wear a bra to bed.”

It had been too long for you to protest him.

You chose to follow his order. Hoping this would help with your sexual frustrations too. Your nipples perked as they were exposed and you did as he said. Twirling a nipple between your forefinger and your thumb. A small hiss came from your mouth, which he could hear perfectly.

You could feel how drenched you are when he groaned in response. You could not help but hump the pillow between your legs, trying to take the edge off.

Your breath hitched when the friction passed along your clit, making your body jump up. “What are you doing little one, tell me?”

“I—I’m humping the p—pillow.”

“Yeah, still with your underwear? Take it off and then continue to hump.” You didn’t need him to tell you twice. You swiped it off with hooking your thumb on the band, changing your position for the better.

You knelt on the bed with the pillow between your thighs. Folding the pillow in half before regaining your position pantiless. You moaned at the feeling. “How does it feel?”

“Good.” You cried out, too embarrassed and too horny to talk properly.

“Not as good as my thigh? You loved riding me like a bitch,” You closed your eyes with the memories flooding into your mind. It was true you loved riding Bucky, in all ways imaginable. “...or not wet enough as my tongue when you sit on my face huh? You lost yourself and covered half of my face with your sweet nectar, remember?”

“Y—yeah! But your thigh is not as good as your face, Sergeant.” He moaned when he heard the name. He loved when he heard that from your mouth.

“Fuck little one I’m so close, get faster for me please. Let me hear those beautiful cries.” All you needed was his permission before you let yourself go and be loud and fast as you wanted.

Loud moans filled your room, you were sure your neighbors were not thinking nice things about you. All thanks to the thin walls. But you already passed the stage to care since all you could think was reaching to your orgasm.

“Cum for your Sergeant, little one!”

Your body vibrated with his thick voice over the phone. You fell on your knees and hands, panting.

He chuckled over the phone. “That was good. Nice to see I still have my charm on you.” He admitted before ending the call. You rolled your eyes at his reaction, tossing your phone at your night stand before fixing your bed.

You knew it was not going to be the last time. You just didn’t know when.

You underestimated him. A big stupid mistake. Because it only took him three weeks to see you again.

But this time he didn’t stop himself.

He had you pinned against his wall, your legs wrapped around his waist and your mouth against his. You two left a trail of clothes and things that were either fallen or broken on the ground.

You two were only left with your underwear. His hands were holding onto your sides. “Tell me you don’t want this, and I will not see you again.” He said as he brushed his nose against your neck, pressing you on his erection.

“I can’t.” You whispered. 

“I’ll tear you apart, little one.” He chuckled. His lips pressing on the skin behind your ear. “Just like old days.”

His hands went behind your back. You whimpered when his hands squeezed your butt. “James!” You moaned as he used your body, thrusting into between your legs.

His cock moving between your folds, grinding against your silk coated panties. “Told you I wouldn’t stop myself.”

You forgot why you two decided to meet again. Was it to give back some of his belongings or take something of yours from him? Whatever it was you should have known better to step onto that trap.

He carried you to his bed. The old springs of his mattress squeaked with your weight. Quickly discarding your bra, and underwear. You moaned when his metal finger played with your clit. With just one cold touch, your brain stopped functioning. He knelt between your legs, pressing kisses along your naked chest.

“Things I will do to you.” He mumbled between kisses. Looking up to you. 

He dove back to your chest. Kissing and sucking your breasts. You hissed as he bit down on your swollen nipple. You raised your hips to rub yourself at his clothed hardness. 

“You talk too much but didn’t even wait for me to finish last time.” You snapped back, he chuckled. 

“Show me what you can do Sergeant.” You whispered on his lips, your finger twirled the chain around to pull him closer to your lips.

He broke the kiss to slide down. Leaving a trail of kisses along your naked body. “You’re so wet.” He groaned as he eyed your glistening pussy. He raised your legs by hooking his hands under your knees, and pulled you closer to him. “Look so good.” He said just before he licked a long strap. “Taste so good too.” He hummed, continuing to lick and suck.

Your body was too sensitive. And he was really good at what he was doing, it did not take you enough to finish. You came right on his face, seeing the stars. Your body tingled like it was your first orgasm ever. The heat rushed to your face when you felt the familiar electricity move along your joints. Your hands twisting his sheets under your palms.

“How long?” He tried not to laugh at how desperate you were looking under him. He knew your body too well to understand how sensitive you got due to his absence.

“Too long.” You said trying to look somewhere else other than his face.

“Need me to go slow?” You shook your head, could not stop your smile.

“No.” He smiled back, taking off his boxers to free his erection. He palmed himself quickly, before pressing his tip on your clit. Using his precum as a lube as he swiped it along the tip.

“That’s my girl.”

“Oh!” You screamed with pleasure as he thrusted all of himself in one go. Your eyes almost went back with pleasure. 

“It’s okay. I’m right here.” He kissed your cheek. His flesh hand holding onto yours. You squeezed him with all you had.

“You feel so good around me.” He said as he continued to move, you wrapped your legs around his waist. He leaned on your lips, kissing you slowly as his metal hand held the headboard. Starting all his thrusts with all he got.

You both moaned. “Fuck! It’s been too long.” He said as his cock twitched inside you. You could barely talk, a word with made up sounds left your mouth. He slid his dog tags inside your mouth slowly and you closed your lips around them in an instinct. “Good girl, taking me so well.” He patted your cheek, pressing one of your legs to your chest by your knee. Speeding up his thrusts, hitting you even deeper. Something you did not believe was possible. 

You could not stop your orgasm coming back once more. Feeling your walls flutter around him. “I’m cumming.” You said with dog tags still inside your mouth, as his tip touched your cervix. 

“Oh you are desperate aren’t you baby? Do you want me to fill you?” He asked, his hand holding the base of your neck. 

“Please.” He raised his eyebrow, hitting you deeper. 

“Try again.”

“Please Sergeant.” His brows frowned and he bit down on his lip as he emptied himself inside you. You felt your body relax as the warm liquid filled you. Your mouth opened loosely before he straightened himself up. Slowly pulled out, watching it pour out from your abused hole. 

He gave you back your panties and bra. Not looking back at you as he put on his boxer.

“Don’t worry, I’ll see you soon.” He said with a wink before heading to the bathroom. “You know I always do.” He chanted before turning on the sink.

Your heart ached, agreeing with him.

[triangle-tumor-manifesto]

My nickname is Silver Cipher.

I am 19 years old, and I’ve been diagnosed with Stage 4 Signet Ring Cell Adenocarcinoma of the Appendix. My dream is to have Alex Hirsch sign my cancer journal.

Gravity Falls has been a huge help since the release of The Book of Bill, and has been a huge comfort to me during my cancer fight. It has helped me emotionally more than I can express. The idea came from one of my friends, who drove to meet me before even knowing my name. They suggested I try to get a signature from Alex Hirsch. This is just a brief summary of my story that I would love to share with you all.

I meant for this to be an incredibly put-together message, but “Nothing in life makes sense, so you might as well make nonsense!”

Ford’s fight with Bill hits so goddamn hard. Chemo has just carpet-bombed my memory to the point where I completely black-out at times. During my 72-hour straight IV drip, I wake up to finding stuff I’ve done that I would NEVER do. I wrote things that I would never write. I drew things that I would never ever draw. The most notable drawings I have done are focused around the Eye of Providence and are surrounded—from top to bottom—by code I am still deciphering. This is terrifying to me and makes me feel like a spectator in my own body. Every single time it happens, it always takes me off guard no matter how prepared I think I am…

Chemo Me VS Regular Me Art (think you can figure out which is which??? -△)

However, the reason why I’m not quite as paralyzed with fear as I was is that whenever shit hits the fan, as embarrassing as it is to admit, to comfort myself I think about Stanford Pines. I think about how at the end of a long and hard battle with something indescribably wicked, he learned to trust people and got the support he needed. The path he treaded was full of pain, blood, and tears but he made it. The survival rate for my stage of cancer is catastrophically low on paper, but 6 is my lucky number. You can guess the reason, or I seriously question how you got into Gravity Falls in the first place!

I live and breathe this show, I live and breathe what Stanford Pines has gone through. I just need to make it past Weirdmageddon.

We appendix cancer patients have this crazy surgery which is known in the medical community as the “Mother of All Surgeries.” Most surgeons refuse to attempt it because of a lack of proven studies due to how few of us there are and how little research there is. The small sample size often causes it to be considered a crazy borderline pseudoscience! But it works. I know this because every Appendix Cancer survivor I met at our Pseudomyxoma peritonei (it’s shortened to PMP) Pals group introduces themself and then says that they owe their new lengthened life to as I like to put it, “Our Surgeon Soulmate”. This is my Weirdmaggedon.

HIPEC (the aforementioned surgery, Hyperthermic intraperitoneal chemotherapy) involves cutting open the sternum to the groin, scooping out every single organ that isn’t necessary for survival, filling the space with liquid chemo, and then sloshing you around a little on the table so it all sets in (like a little cancer smoothie). Then they’ll drain it all out, sew you up, and wake you up. (I drew Ford doing it while on chemo—you can see it in the Imgur link-I also have zero memories of this, and it's hilarious-you gotta laugh at the pain or you will cry) The only way to relieve the crippling pain besides exceeding a survivable dose of painkiller is to get up. You have to get up and walk—I mean laps around the ICU. I’ve done it. The laps at least. All the hundred-some people at the conference have. It hurts like crazy but the only way to get better is to fight through it. It's either fight or die.

Welp! There’s your summary of puppet hour with Silver, and my own personal metal plate.

I have the proof to back this up, as I have been living with this since my diagnosis in March. Knowing all of you, some of you may have taken “Trust No One!” to heart, which is legitimate for a post like this. This was just a brief summary of my story that I would love to share with you all. I've censored my personal information, and pictures I'm sending, as well as my face and my father's face. I'm also adding some of the art that I've done on chemo.

PROOF: https://imgur.com/a/ljb98NL

Attached is all the preliminary proof I’m willing to let anybody and everybody see. It’s a mix of identity-confirming photos, people I care about, art that I made while on chemo to help get me through it, proof of my hospital stays and pictures of me during hospital chemo, as well as a picture of myself on chemo simply so you can see how much it takes out of me from those early on photos of me from my tumor removal surgery to today. That was round six. Now I’m in the middle of round twelve: my last one. Before my final battle with Cipher, I’m hoping I can get my personal chemo Journal signed by Hirsch, at the very least. And if the guy wants to join the stream and hear my pretty decent Ford impression, well…who am I to complain? Alex if you're reading this, even if you can’t sign my book, I’d love for you to read the journal entry I wrote addressed to you. I sent my friend Alia to NYCC with a cut-out journal page for you to sign, with this letter to be read, but it didn’t end up working out. Even so, it would mean so much to me if it made it to you somehow.

Hopefully, this gets a shitload of views and reposts that find their way to Alex. As a bonus (some of you are going to adore this) I am going to link a Twitch fundraiser for Appendix Cancer in the post as well, and do a live stream of an ENTIRE reading of a Mystery Fanfic with me as Ford and an absolutely amazing Bill impersonator- @weasel!!! @_<;;! I bet you are so curious, knowing this server. “Come on Fordsy, don’t you want to take my hand? Just say the word!”

Art done by @🐔mother hen goblin🐔

We had this art piece made to promote the stream! Heed the warnings! Also, depending on the VA's endurance, I will also host an open mic for people to share their love of Gravity Falls and their reasoning for helping me.

The Twitch stream will begin on △ 10/26/2024 6:00PM EST.

△ If you cannot make this-never fear! It will all be recorded for your future viewing pleasure. This exact time is subject to change, please check back the day of to make sure that this stays the same.

Twitch Stream Link: triangle_tumor - Twitch

Donation Link: https://pmppals.net/silvers-triangle-tumor/…

I hope to see as many of you as possible present in the stream. This fanfiction means so much to so many of us. Both Bill and Ford's relationship in canon and especially in this fic encapsulates the visceral horror, suffering, and trauma that comes with going through chemo and beating the ⭐⚡#💀＄out of the triangle tumor. I am also getting OFFICIALLY endorsed by r/Gravity Falls as well as PMP Pals (An Official Appendix Cancer Organization) for this fundraiser.

I cannot tell you how absolutely hyped I am for everything going down.

Pleasepleaseplease join the stream if you can, and for SURE blow up this Reddit post! Thank you all so much for being a part of this and helping me through my fight.

Ad Astra Per Aspera

Silver Cipher △

P.S. FUCK Cancer

SOCIALS/OFFICIAL ACCOUNTS

Twitter: https://twitter.com/Triangletumor

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/triangletumormanifesto/?next=%2F

Twitch: https://www.twitch.tv/triangle_tumor

YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@TriangleTumorManifesto

[littlelambscandyland]

A New Perspective (Part 3)

Yandere Platonic Sakamaki Brothers x Reader

Warnings- (Forced) Age Regression, Restraints, Panic Attack, Implied Drugging, Yui slander (sorta), Pacifier, Nicknames used (baby, sweetie, angel), eating (fruits), force feeding, Papa for Shu

Notes- So the next few chapters are going to go brother by brother in order of age. So the next two are focused on Shu the the next two will be focused on Reiji, so on and so on. This chapter is the first half of the day with him and the next chapter is going to be the other half of the day.

You felt so warm. The dark room comforting your tired eyes. Your stomach keeps you awake with its pangs for food. You go to get up from your position, head foggy. Surprise floods your system when your hands don’t comply with your body properly. Looking at them through the black room you notice something around your wrists. You pull your arm as much as you can only for nothing to happen. A cry falls from your mouth in panic. You push your feet against whatever hard surface you could. Panic flooding your body and tears flooding your eyes. You flail against your restraints. You felt like you were locked in a cage, tied down and trapped.

Suddenly, light floods the room. You pause your movement, but you couldn't stop yourself from crying.

Not a word leaves the blonde haired man's mouth as he comes up to you and undoes the restraints.  Easily, he lifts you into his arms and takes you to the chair in the corner. He pulls you into his chest. As much as he seems to relax, you’ve never seen him calmer than he is right now, despite you crying into his chest.

“I know,” Shu tells you with a soft smile. “You’re so scared right now. You’re little mind can’t understand what’s happening,” He condescends. “But that’s why we’re going to take care of you. You’ll never have to worry again. Isn’t that nice, baby?”

Though his words felt taunting to you, you could tell he was being genuine. Your tears wouldn’t stop even though you wanted them to. Your mind only felt a little less blurry than it did the night before.

“I- “ Your words die on your lips. A deep breath replacing your voice as another sob escapes your throat.

Your mind races through every rule and reason they gave you last night. Your mind also races to Yui. Are they doing this to her too? Is she alright? Of course, you didn’t want to deal with her, but you wouldn’t wish anything bad on her.

While you were thinking, your tears run out. You lay there on his lap staring at the fabric of his shirt. He seemed content with this situation, allowing you the chance to get your mind in the right place. You pick your head up with some struggle. Your torso sways and you have to place your hands on his chest to keep yourself up.

A stressed pout plays on your lips while you try to speak. “Y- Yu-” You gave up quickly to take a breath in again.

Shu smiles at your attempt. An odd mixture of a smirk and a genuine grin.

Quickly the tears return to your eyes. Frustration from your inability to talk, and anger from the tears that kept falling without permission. You open your mouth again, spitting out sounds and noises attempting to make any meaningful sentence. 

Shu finally decides to end your torment. “Are you trying to ask about Yui?” He asks teasingly.

You puff your cheeks out and huff at him before nodding.

“Such a sweetie… You don’t need to worry about that woman anymore.” He shakes his head, talking to you like a child.

His words struck you. Fear creeping up your throat for her. Did they kill her?

Shu notices your fear, the way your heart rate and breathing speeds up. He laughs at you. “She isn’t dead… It just simply isn’t your problem what happens to her. A baby doesn’t take care of others,” He explains. “A baby gets cared for.”

Saying this seemed to remind him of something. He stands up carrying you out of the room with ease. You noticed the emptiness of the halls and rooms you passed. You pull on Shu’s shirt and try to question him again.

He huffs out a smile. “They still have to go to school, angel. It’s just you and me today.” He answers and leaves a kiss on your temple.

He made his way through the maze of a mansion with you in his arms. You never realized how dizzying the mansion halls could be. You thought that he may have been taking a confusing route to mess with you, but at the rate you seemed to arrive at his destination made you doubt yourself.

You both entered the brightly lit kitchen. He placed you onto an odd looking seat. You felt a bit thankful when he strapped you in because you were still struggling to hold yourself up. He sets a tray in front of you and goes to the fridge. He pulls out a bowl and takes off its lid.

Shu pulls up a chair and sits in front of you, fork in hand. You look at him weirdly. Was he seriously going to feed you? The confused pout on your face seemed to amuse the blonde.

“You don’t think you’ll actually be able to do it yourself?” He smiles devilishly. “You can barely hold yourself up, baby…” He drawls.

He picks up some fruit and holds it out for you to eat. You huff at him and turn your face away. He can’t seriously think you’d let him degrade you like this right? You hear him sigh at your reaction.

Suddenly he pulls your chair incredibly closer to his. He takes advantage of your shock and grabs your face harshly. Shu squeezes your cheeks to force your lips open. Taking the fruit and shoving it into your mouth. Once the food is in he moves his hand and holds your mouth closed. 

Your frightful eyes meet his for a second. An understanding that this was happening whether you fought back or not. Tears gather in your eyes again.

The rest of the time he fed you, you cried. Tears falling softly and slowly while you ate.

“Aww, I know it’s so hard… I know papa’s so mean isn’t he.” Shu teases as he picks you up.

Once again Shu moves the two of you through the mansion. He takes you back to the childish room you had woken up in. He sits you on a colorful, soft rug. He sits nearby you leaning against the wall. You do your best to keep yourself up, but you struggled. Tears that dried on your way back started to fall again. Embarrassment and frustration clouding your mind.

You have to hold your arms in front of you on the ground. Unsure of what to do and hiccuping from all the crying. You try to pick yourself up only to collapse onto the floor. You cry harder in desperation. Words try to fumble out of your mouth but fail before they make it to your lips. You hear movement behind you, but you’re too focused on trying to pick yourself up.

“Poor little creature… Can’t do anything by yourself can you?” Shu teases as he picks you up. “Here we go just sit with Papa for a while, you can do that right sweetie?” He asks rhetorically.

He puts an earbud in your ear and lays you against himself. Classical music fills your head at a quiet decibel. Your tears continue to fall in anger, but don’t do much.

After a few minutes of your continued sniffles Shu reaches over and grabs something from a drawer. He lightly grabs your chin and faces it towards him. He pushes a binkie into your mouth.

In your shock you go to spit it back out. He is not going to make you suck on a pacifier, you think to yourself. Too bad for you Shu was losing patience. He grabbed a different one and held your face in a tight grip while he put it on.

This paci had straps that made it impossible to take off. Well at least for you because you still couldn’t do much with your body. What confused you most was the sour taste that faded after a few seconds of having the binkie on. Despite the taste going away it worried you. That and the fact you could no longer spit it out no matter how hard you tried. 

You were so upset. Tears poured down your face harder and you tried to push yourself away from Shu. He on the other hand held you close to his chest and rubbed your back. Hushing you in a tone only a tired father could have.

You don’t know when you started actually relaxing because within minutes you had fallen asleep in his arms.

[residentdeviant]

𝑺𝑶𝑭𝑻𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑬 𝑰𝑵𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑩𝑰𝑳𝑰𝑻𝒀

── .✦ summary

⟢ you‘ve devised a plan to help solve the case and catch the unsub, but what if you don’t live ‘til the end of it?

── .✦ story notes !

⟢ written with re2r/re4r leon in mind ! also, i did my best to have this be a gender neutral reader, but if there’s anything that suggests otherwise, please let me know.

── .✦ word count

⟢ 3.4k !

── .✦ tags ! (warnings included)

⟢ d:bh au, android!leon, second-person, no use of y/n, nickname “lee” is used for leon bc it’s cute and i will die on that hill, angst, minor mention of brian irons, gore, mentions of chris redfield and jill valentine as well as rebecca chambers, fluff kinda???, you get a cat btw, happy ending!

── .✦ a/n !

⟢ this part has definitely been on the longer side of construction lol but i was determined to finish it. it’s unbelievably hard for me to finish projects but i powered through this for me and you! even though it did take me like six months… whoopsies.

⟢ part one!

⟢ part two!

6:57am.

“Good morning, detective,” Leon greeted with a smile as he saw you walk in, seemingly in a better mood this morning. Regardless, it was good to see him feeling better after everything you two had encountered last night.

You smiled at him in return, keeping things light for now. “Morning, Leon,” you reply, waving slightly with one hand and holding your cup of coffee in the other. You made your way to the west office once more, opening the door and walking towards your desk. Getting a shower and some rest last night was definitely needed as well as deserved, and you were more than grateful for both of those.

You pulled out your chair and sat at your desk, ready to get the day started and prepare to catch the guy behind all of this mess. RC was lost in darkness and chaos, repeating the same old loop continuously without stopping for breath, and you wanted to be one of the ones to save this forsaken city. If not you, then who else?

Simple chatter and the click-clacking of keyboard keys were all that could be heard within the west office, the morning starting off rather quiet and slow. You just wanted to get your morning load of work done before doing further investigation on the unsub you had spent the past few days chasing. His attacks were on a regular basis, seemingly everyday, so you suspected that it wasn't long until he would strike again.

As you worked through the practically endless stack of paperwork and android cases popping up every millisecond, you could feel the presence of someone behind you. As you turn, you could see that familiar blond android waiting for you, with the utmost patience. He hadn’t even said anything to disturb you, or even make any noise for that matter, but it was easy to sense another person within your vicinity.

Once you looked at him, his baby blue eyes flickered over to you and he gave you a polite smile before speaking. “We should figure out a plan soon. The sooner we catch the unsub and free the others, the better,” Leon suggested, carefully moving a bit closer to you.

“No worries, Lee. I’ve got it figured out already,” you began. He didn’t seem to expect that, but he welcomed it. “I just need to finish this paperwork, go through a few case details and study our guy a little more before we make any moves. He’s dangerous. We have no room for error.” The android nodded softly, silently agreeing with you.

You had predicted the unsub’s schedule, putting everything together and praying that this was going to work. You were undoubtedly putting your life on the line, yes, but it would be worth it in the end… if you lived long enough to make it to the end of the mission.

The plan you had devised was simple: pose as an android, wander in the unsub’s frequented grounds, get captured by him and then wait for the right time to take him into custody. It didn’t seem easy, and it sure wouldn’t be either, but you had to try. Androids weren’t just robots, designed to do humanity’s bidding — they had minds and hearts. They deserved better than what they got, and you were determined to help them by solving this case and locking this guy up for good.

—

6:37pm.

Night had fallen and your plan had begun. When you had told Leon about it, he seemed nervous? His behavior was slightly off and his LED had been spinning yellow for quite some time. You could tell he was probably worried about the outcome, but you knew what you had to do.

You wandered around the streets in your android uniform and an LED on your temple, acting as if you were working through a task assigned to you before you were suddenly approached by a man who looked like he didn’t know what a shower was. He had green eyes, greasy brown hair and he absolutely reeked. (Like anime convention type of reeked.) Not only that, but he had some odd stains on his clothes. Oil and thirium? That’s gotta be it.

“Excuse me, I need help…” he said, although not coming off as very convincing. “My wife… she’s in trouble. I think she’s having a heart attack. Please! You need to help me!”

This guy needs acting classes. Stat.

“Of course,” you replied, mimicking the rather direct behavior of most androids before following the man — who appeared to be your unsub — into his house. This is him. You knew this place. Now you just had to be cautious and continue with your plan so you could catch him in the act.

You and the man had entered the house, and as soon as he shut the door behind you, he kicked you down, murmuring expletives. It’s like meeting a younger version of Irons. You tried to get up, but he kicked you down once more and made sure you were weak before he dragged you downstairs.

—

“Are you sure that we should wait for their signal? I mean… What if they’re in trouble?” Leon questioned, his LED flashing to yellow for a split second as he looked towards Lieutenant Branagh, the pair camping out within a nearby black sedan. The android knew he should follow the plan, he knew he needed to keep the end goal in mind, but he struggled to do so knowing that there was a slight possibility that you wouldn’t make it out. This job was dangerous, he knew that, but he couldn’t help but… worry?

No.

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^

He shouldn’t worry, he… he can’t worry. That’s a sign of deviancy. Androids don’t do that.

Stick to your code, get the job done.

“Are you doubting your partner, rookie?” Branagh questioned in return, turning the tables on the poor android. “They’re strong. They can handle themselves. Just trust us on this.”

The blond couldn’t really do anything but nod lightly and anxiously watch the establishment, worrying about you — even if you weren’t aware of it. A future without you was a future he didn’t want to be a part of. It’d kill him inside.

And that scared him.

He hadn’t even known you for that long, but you made him feel a type of way that he couldn’t understand. It was beyond his programming. He wasn’t supposed to feel this way. He wasn’t supposed to feel anything, point blank. As much as he wanted to deny it and pretend that it certainly wasn’t true, Leon may have been deviating, and the only person he could ever tell was you.

—

You could feel the fear all of those androids felt as you were dragged down the stairs by your legs, and any fighting you did was practically useless. This guy was freakishly strong, which would’ve been good to know before you threw yourself in harm’s way. The moment he looked in another direction, you sent the signal and waited for backup. Meanwhile, you begged for your life, as you assumed any android would, as he lifted you and strapped you down on a chair, keeping you in place. The caged androids from before watched in horror, keeping silent but feeling a strong sense of remorse for you. He couldn’t remove vital parts from you and keep you alive like he had done with them, so this felt like your funeral.

“I’ll help you get out of here very soon, I promise.”

They just hoped your promise to them wouldn’t be broken and you’d continue to live on. You showed them kindness, and they would never forgive themselves if they couldn’t do the same for you.

The man who was confirmed to be your unsub was at a workbench, stained with thirium, oil and human blood. It was disgusting. One part of you knew your team was mere moments from busting in and taking this guy in for good, but the other part of you was still petrified. You could so easily be killed if they weren’t fast enough, and you hoped and prayed that they were.

As the dark-haired man grabbed his tools, a familiar face came sprinting down the stairs — 9mm in hand.

“Drop your weapons and put your hands up where I can see them!” he commanded. Leon, thank God. Lieutenant Branagh as well as a few other officers followed, aiming their guns at the suspect. Knowing he was caught for good, he raised his hands, allowing his loose sleeves to slide down a bit and reveal his left arm that used to belong to an android. He’s harvesting them for parts. God, that’s gross.

As Branagh and the other officers detained the man that was soon to be identified as Brent Phillips, Leon came over and helped you out of your confines before giving you a hug to help calm you down. Not only that, but to reassure him that you were safe, and no harm could be done to you anymore. There wouldn’t be another story like Samuel and Martha’s. You got to live, and he got to see your smile again — which was worth more than gold to him.

—

While your team took Phillips in, Leon stayed at the crime scene, doing further investigation. You freed the poor droids left to rot within the cage, deciding to get them fixed up and sent back to their original families. “You kept your promise,” one said with a soft voice, sounding slightly surprised yet grateful nonetheless.

“Of course I did. I couldn’t leave you guys behind,” you replied with a small smile. Another officer escorted the androids out, leaving just you and your own android friend in the dark, lonely basement.

It was quiet for a bit as you looked through Brent’s personal items, looking for any sort of motive behind the whole thing other than just using androids for spare parts. Oddly enough, you couldn’t find anything. Lots of family photos hidden away, so maybe he wanted to keep his happy and comfortable family life hidden away from his dark and twisted deeds.

“He lost his arm in a car accident,” the blond stated after shuffling through Brent’s journals. “He couldn’t afford a medical bill, so he stole androids and used them instead… but he got addicted. He kept messing with them… tore them apart, left them for dead like it’s nothing… like we’re nothing.”

Your eyes flickered over to Leon, examining his sorrowful expression as his LED shifted to yellow. You walked over to him, gently rubbing his back to try to ease him. “I’m sorry, Lee. But at least now, it can’t happen again. Lives were lost, but there were many more saved. It’s gonna be okay.”

The blond android sniffled a bit, and his LED slowly returned to blue once more. He thanked you before making his way upstairs to step outside for a bit and get some air. You looked around for a few more minutes before returning to him.

And when you did, you definitely weren’t planning on telling him that you found Martha in the mini fridge.

—

A few days had gone by and the case was closed. Brent was detained, Martha’s body had been found and sent into the lab, the other androids were free and everything else fell into place. You and Leon had officially finished your first case together and things were going pretty well. You could tell that he still felt guilty, however, almost as if he could prevent that situation. As if he could prevent death and destruction.

But the poor rookie also knew that it was part of the job. He couldn’t get attached. Attachment was a human emotion, and he was terrified of what could happen if anyone knew of what was happening inside the confines of his android mind. He knew everyone would rat him out, except maybe Branagh, but he knew you certainly wouldn’t.

So he’d cling onto you.

Not just because you’re partners and you’re also his only friend, but because he feels safe with you. He feels safe enough to share all of this with you. You’re the only one who has ever made him feel a sense of humanity and encouraged that. Anyone else would tell him that he had an instability error within his software and he needed to get it fixed immediately, but you were different. You were kind.

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^

Leon wasn’t sure what this feeling inside his chest was. It was unfamiliar and certainly not in his programming. He needed to figure it out and fast.

–

Quite some time had flown by and androids have fought for equal rights, earning their freedom and the right to live just as humans do. Even so, Leon continues working for the police department, constantly having that desire to help those in need. Not only this, but he also has an apartment in the same building as you, which you helped him decorate after work for about four days. Although the finished result was quite lovely and you always wanted to help your friends, so there wasn’t a desire to complain.

Those aren’t the only changes, however. After the successes of your first three cases together, you and Leon are officially a team. Probably even one of the best that the RPD has to offer! You had taken on most of the android cases together and solved just about all of them. Branagh was pretty impressed and you two even received the opportunity to join S.T.A.R.S alongside Chris Redfield, Jill Valentine and Rebecca Chambers, but after some thought, the two of you politely declined. It just wasn’t in your interests at this time and you were happy with things as they are.

Except for one thing – you and Leon.

You were partners and now best friends, but now what? You wanted more than that. How could anyone be happy with just that? Maybe your coworkers would tease you about crushing on an android, and goodness knows what your relatives would say, but you knew that it didn’t matter what they thought. As long as you’re happy, then who cares?

But you weren't happy. Not like this. So you decided that you’d just have to tell him.

You just hoped he wouldn’t short circuit or something.

Your shift was coming to a close for the night and you couldn’t have been happier. Although you loved being able to help others through your job, you didn’t love the paperwork that came along with it. You powered through the last few pages and then began to grab your belongings, putting them in their rightful places before pushing your chair back towards your desk.

“Heading out for the night?” your blond partner asked, seemingly popping in out of practically nowhere.

You give him a nod and a small smile, “Yeah, I’m ready to go home and get dinner. Want a ride?”

“That’d be great, thanks.”

Mere moments later, you and Leon were heading back to your apartment building in your car. Gentle rain pitter-pattered along the expanse of the automobile, bringing you two a sense of warmth and comfort during the cold night. Well, the heat was also on, so that probably helped, too.

The car ride was full of chatter at first as you two talked about what you had been up to lately other than work. He had been watching Star Wars movies again and playing videogames, you had been watching your own favorite movies and tending to your hobbies. The conversation died off after a while, and you quickly noticed that Leon seemed a little off, like he was thinking about something rather deeply. You decided to let him come to you when he was ready, but your train of thought was interrupted as he softly spoke your name.

“I need to talk to you about something,” the blond suddenly spoke, his tone and body language giving you the feeling that he was quite anxious.

“Yeah, sure… shoot,” you replied simply, eyes focused on the road.

He thought about his choice of words for a moment, and you swore you could almost hear the whirring of the fans in his android head, like when you haven’t cleaned your PS4 in a while and it sounds like a fighter jet taking off.

“I have this feeling when I’m with you, and I don’t know what it is exactly but I know it’s good. It’s a positive one, but not one I feel when I successfully accomplish a mission with no casualties or when I hang out with my friends or something. It’s different. It’s deeper than that, it’s…”

Love. He loves you.

The entire time, he wouldn’t look at you. He couldn’t look at you, even if he tried. His bionic heart was racing at what felt like a million miles an hour, and he was struggling to even find the words for what he was feeling. But he knew you’d understand; you always did. That was one of the many things he loved about you. You always made him feel understood and safe around you. Even before androids gained equal rights, you treated him as if he was your equal with no questions asked. You gave him the freedom to act and do as he so pleased, and he was immensely grateful for that. You gave him everything he could ever want, and in return, he wanted to give you his heart.

You smoothly pulled up to the apartment complex, parking in your usual spot and then turning to face Leon. He didn’t finish what he was going to say, but he figured that you already knew. He especially thought so when you looked at him a little closer and saw a slight blue tinge on his cheeks (which he made a feeble attempt to hide). He softly cleared his throat, turning to face you, although still shy about the whole ordeal. “So… if you’ll have me…”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

–

In the following months, you and Leon had gone on several successful dates that served to secure the beginning of your future together. The two of you often went stargazing, browsing in record shops and had countless movie marathons when you just wanted to stay home. You eventually moved into a nice house together, which had a mailbox decorated with your names and handprints. Not only that, but you even adopted a cat! (And totally didn’t name them after a Transformer…)

One night in particular, you and Leon were lying on your shared bed, comfortable as ever as he snuggled up behind you with your adorable cat resting in front of you. You were fast asleep, dreaming of goodness knows what, but it must be nice since you were smiling to yourself even in REM. Leon, however, was wide awake, listening to your soft breathing and remaining lost in his thoughts. It had been a long time that he had been living with human rights, and living with human feelings for even longer, but he still wasn’t used to them. He still lived within awe of your kindness and he still felt a sense of curiosity when you showed him any semblance of affection.

He may never know if he’ll ever adjust as easily as other androids do when it comes to stuff like this, but he does know one thing: he will always cherish it. He’ll always feel a sense of relief when either one of you returns home from work. He’ll always be grateful for the meals you share together. He’ll always love it when you sit on the back porch with a glass of lemonade in hand, gazing at him longingly as he happily does yardwork “like normal people do.” But most of all, he’ll always love you in any and every form. There’s nothing he wouldn't do for you.

As he closes his eyes and allows himself to go into a dormant state, he takes in everything about you and recommits it to his memory – hoping to dream about you. And as he sleeps, he knows that anything and everything in the world couldn’t be better than this. No treasure is as precious as a future with you.

I want to thank three of my loved ones for helping me proofread the whole series, but I also want to simultaneously apologize because they waited about four to six months for me to finish part three lol. I also want to thank you for reading this mini series! I appreciate all of the love and support you guys have given me and I couldn’t be more grateful. I haven’t written and uploaded a fic online in a good few years, but all of you have given me the confidence I needed to return to it.

I have another project in progress, but goodness knows when I’ll finish it lol. Until then, I will try to keep you guys updated and fed whenever possible. I love you all.

[dreamsoflightvalley]

Robbie Valentino X Reader (Headcanons)

A/N: Made a little banner for this myself since I couldn’t find any good gifs for him, thought it’d be cute! I noticed a severe lack of Robbie content and also a resurgence in the GF fandom (raising fellow Rob-heads from their grave as well). Good to know I wasn’t the only one with a big ol’ crush on him as a kid X)

Content: Completely SFW (not even a swear), typical teen shenanigans and romance, use of the nickname babe.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Robbie is a mega jerk, but sometimes it comes from a place of approval seeking. He’ll start (and lose) fights with other guys over you, probably puff his chest in public and brag very loudly about how in love the two of you are, but he’s never had someone to really sit him down and tell them they love him no matter what. If you have a serious talk with him about things he does that make you uncomfortable or upset, he’ll listen. Actually listen. Sometimes he gets so caught up in impressing his (rather empty headed and shallow) friends that he forgets you don’t care about all that stuff.

He’s not the ideal partner, but he’s loyal to a fault. He’ll obsess over you, maybe even an unhealthy amount, but the thought of cheating never ever crosses his mind.

If you’ve ever told him about past partners, best believe he’ll have some things to say. Nothing good, that’s for sure.

“Those guys/gals were friggin’ jerks, and they didn’t deserve you. If I ever see their faces around town, I’ll kick their butts all the way to the mountain tops for you babe.”

Regardless of whether you’re a goody two shoes or not, he will try to rope you into some mischief. Whether it be more graffiti, vandalism, or petty theft, he’ll beg and plead for you to accompany him on his misadventures and if you’re lucky he’ll reward you with something romantic.

Even if you outwardly disapprove of his actions or reprimand him when he’s wrong, he is 100% a ride or die for you specifically and will very rarely if ever correct you on something or tell you you’re wrong. He either A, thinks you’re right, or B, thinks calling you out will embarrass you and if you look bad then HE looks bad and that’s not gonna fly with him.

Since he learned from his experiences with Wendy before dating you, he’s a little less rough around the edges. He tries to be more genuine with you, and do right by you. Instead of ripping off another band he’ll actually try his hand at writing his own lyrics/poetry for you. It might not be good, heck, it might be edgy drivel, but it’s from the heart and you can’t laugh in his poor little face like that!

If you are emo or decide to get a little adventurous with your fashion style, he will 100% help you shop or do other things like dye your hair and do your makeup.

It’s a surprisingly tender thing for him, very patiently doing your eyeliner, the air from his nose fanning against your face as he breathes quietly with that subtle yet concentrated smile on his face…

Surprisingly the big shows of affection aren’t what gets him shy and flustered, it’s the small things. Tiny pecks on the lips, morning cuddles, little whispers of affirmation, he runs on that kind of stuff. Public makeouts and sneaking out at night are still awesome, but they don’t give him the same flutters that the softer things do.

If you’re scene or just plain crafty, he will hoard all of the bracelets you make him like a dragon. He goes feral for black and red kandi, bonus points if there’s a little broken heart charm dangling near the knot because he’s never taking it off for as long as he lives.

He can and will make mix CDs of songs that remind him of you, and then hand over a copy once the ancient PC at the library is finished uploading it. He tries to save them for special occasions, but he makes so many it’s hard to resist for him sometimes…

Yes, he will draw both of you as emo solves, yes he thinks it’s deep, and no you cannot stop him.

You’re gonna have to put up with his insane beef with Dipper, and bite his head off for it (figuratively) every once in a while. For someone who cares about appearance he sure doesn’t realize how bad bullying a kid looks.

If you have any siblings, he’ll try to hold himself back for your sake. If they’re older they’ll probably get along well, but if they’re younger he’ll be weary of interacting with them and heavily dismissive at first… Until one night you catch them playing games and making microwave s’mores together. Don’t be surprised if your little sib starts to wear more black and stars painting their nails.

Ironically enough, Robbie likes being the little spoon. He’ll never admit it, but if you flop down behind him while he’s resting and snuggle up he gets embarrassingly happy.

If your styles are opposites, he’ll do his best to enjoy the contrast instead of trying to change you. If he’s in a particularly good mood that day, he’ll try some of your hobbies or let you pick some clothes out for him. No guarantee that he’ll like them, and even if he does he’ll still act like he doesn’t.

He secretly tries to sniff you when he thinks you won’t notice, even though its hard to sniff quietly with such a big nose he still tries to get away with some soft whiffs (or some heavier ones if you’re like asleep or something).

If you work at a job, specifically a customer service one, he can and will go up to the counter and try to flirt his way into the discount. If your manager is a strict jerk it’s best to keep him away from the property, because he will start beef and spray paint their car.

[howlett-n-morgan]

Take Me Home

1. TEXAS RED

Arthur Morgan x Texas Red!Reader

A/n: if you're seeing this for the first time, welcome! If not, and you were following my other blog, welcome back! Either way, I hope you enjoy this dumpster fire brought to you by my imagination ✨️

Summary: In the town of Agua Fria lived a shooter called Texas Red. Many men had tried to take him, and that many men were dead. A duelist and potential outlaw, with a secret no one knows. The perfect recruit for Dutch Van Der Linde to sweet talk into joining up.

Warnings: game typical violence, gun violence, dueling, old fashioned ways of thinking (no racism depicted in this chapter, but misogyny is mentioned) mild language, Arthur is a grump but also a sweetheart.

WC: 6.5k

“The infamous Texas Red,” he finished for you, but every time you hear that nickname it somehow gets worse. Why on earth did the good Lord above curse you with something so nasty as ginger hair? “Infamous? Don't know about that,” you lean back against the bar for another drink of water when your hands drop to your sides. “I'm just a kid. Name's Charlie Brooks.” 

The light from the outside window is what wakes you first, the brightness pooling over your closed eyelids before they even open. You’re still in Agua Fria, the place you've made a name for yourself. Charlie Brooks, but that's not the one that comes to mind. 

Texas Red. The unkillable. Nothing more than a duelist to many, and even less so to those who don't care for that sort of thing. But to those who dare challenge the big iron on your hip, you are not anything short of a quick handed master. Only eighteen years old, or so they say - it’s what you’ve told them, but like your name, it isn’t true. Whichever way you spell it out, your reputation is the reason people know you; You have the fastest draw on this side of anywhere. 

For someone who's known near and far as the kid who never lost a match, the nickname is a little less than favorable. Texas Red isn't for the blood on your hands, it's for the ginger of your hair. It's factual, not demeaning… but still unfavorable. You do not care much what they call you anymore, just as long as they know what comes with it. Too many men have underestimated your ability, one and nineteen more. 

Here in Agua Fria there's folks that will come from far and wide, just to test your trigger finger. Today is no different. You've spent the night in a hotel above the saloon, so by the time you reach the bottom of the stairs, you know there ought to be a man there, ready and willing to die. 

“That's him.” 

You hear from under the breath of the bartender. He served you only last night, one drink of silky whiskey before bed, nothing more. You told him your name, but not the one people know. Word gets around, you suppose. Your pistol has twenty notches on the handle, folks can tell enough from that alone. One of the outlaws that hangs around here does the same thing… except he takes pride in those marks, as opposed to you. You make those marks to remember the weight of your pistol, heavier every time a notch is made.

The man before you is tall and strong, likely a farmer that does heavy work. He has a sly look about him, but you don't feel bothered too much. You think his hands, worn by the sun and weathered by his work - whatever it may be - will not draw fast enough to even graze you. They are too stiff where they hang by his side, probably from pushing a plow, or milling a field. 

He hasn't spoken a word to you yet, but that's what you assume. He's here to challenge me, they always are. No one asks after you otherwise… except for maybe some working women, but that never ends well.

“You're the kid?” He looks you over, a furrowed brow and a smirk brush his features, but it doesn't last. Yes, you think. I'm the kid, and this is my gun.

“Yes sir,” your voice is a little lower, the early morning is stuck in the pitch of it. 

His question was so vague, but having been asked about eight times out of twenty ‘are you the kid?’ makes you a pretty damn good guesser of what your answer ought to be.

He takes another once over after a step forward, and now you can see that he stands about a head taller than you. He's not quite intimidating, but you can admit, the anxiousness of a man initiating a duel is always a thing that prickles your skin, warms your very fingertips. Maybe that's why you shoot so fast. 

“You don't look like a killer,” he looks down, but his nose is somehow still in the air. He wants to prove something, to someone or to himself you can't be sure, but only the most foolish of men dare your gun this way. 

“I'm not one.” 

And he laughs. You don't even think to look up at him, you keep my face forward. I don't have anything to prove, but of course you know you’ll have to.

“You shoot folks, got a name for it,” he settled his hands on his belt. It's a gun belt, sure, but the rounds don't even match the gun at his hip. They look bigger, as for a rifle. This farmer likely shoots ducks. Sitting or flying, that’s not the relevant point. 

He has experience, and that's what clouds his mind. He thinks you’re a sitting duck. 

“I do, but I ain't no killer,” you paused, rounding the man, stepping up to the bar and pointing for a glass of water. This early in the morning, any form of alcohol shouldn't be legal. You reckon it's the very thing that made this gentleman bold and eager enough to try what he's about to. At least you’re pretty darn sure that he's about to, otherwise he’s just an adoring spectator. “I shoot folks as need shootin’, but they always ask for it. I ain't malicious or nothin’.” 

“Maybe you's the one that needs shootin’.”

Atta boy, getting to the point. You have to smile. He looks confused by it and he very well should be… people don’t normally crack a grin when being threatened.

“S’pose you wanna be the one that does it,” You take a drink of the water you’re handed, but it does little to wash away the tickle in your throat, trying to climb its way up in the form of the chuckle. 

“If I gotta be.” 

You’ve never seen this man around town. Being here in this area almost two months, you’ve seen more of the traveling recluses than any of the farmers. Seen more of the local outlaws, too. They never stay long, they cause a little trouble here and there… but never the farmers. They come into town maybe once, twice a month. They harbor most of their own supplies on their land. No need for the town. 

“And you think you'll hit me?” 

“I've never missed.” 

And then that chuckle finally does escape you. 

“I knew twenty men who hadn't, either,” but the other's words were a bit more out of ignorance. They wanted to show off, thought they had nothing to lose. You were just a skinny kid with red hair and a heavy gun that you could barely stand to carry. 

“I like my odds.” 

So you turn to the bartender. He watched this same charade last month. A different man, not quite as tall, but just as confident. He stops wiping down an empty glass, and looks to you with a look of annoyance. What did you do to deserve it? You haven't the slightest clue. When he looks at the challenger with sincerity and condolences, you know what he thinks behind those eyes.

This is a fine young man, he may have a wife and some children. He doesn't know what he's doing, he had a strong drink. He only heard one story, it isn't fair. 

But of course, you can't back out. You’ve never backed out. Never having anything to lose, and like today, no one has ever tried to convince you otherwise. If you die now, you can go out a hero of sorts, the gunslinger of Agua Fria. If you live, then you'll someday die a legend. Texas Red, the unkillable.

You will have to step outside, and you will have to shoot this man, but for the first time, you feel you oughta know his name. You stepped to meet him and offered your hand. It's smaller compared to his. 

“What’s your name?” 

“Robert Sims.” 

He shakes your hand tightly, he wants to show how strong he is… as if that somehow makes him shoot faster.

“Glad to meet ya. I'm-” 

“The infamous Texas Red,” he finished for you, but every time you hear that nickname it somehow gets worse. Why on earth did the good Lord above curse you with something so nasty as ginger hair?

“Infamous? Don't know about that,” you lean back against the bar for another drink of water when your hands drop to your sides. “I'm just a kid. Name's Charlie Brooks.” 

He scoffs, his eyes falling to the floor. Maybe he doesn't wanna do this. He seems to be rolling it over in his head. If he wins he kills you, a scrawny kid with an ugly hat, and not a friend in the world. If he loses, well… he dies. 

But as if foolishness ruled his mind, he settles on his thoughts, and you can see it clear as day when he decides. 

“Are you ready to step outside?” 

And you smile again. He could've been your friend. He seems like a kind enough man, a little arrogant, but a man of honor in himself. He even struck you with a slanted smile of his own, but for no reason other than your reputation alone, he wants to kill you. Always a shame. 

“S'pose so.”

And he doesn't say another word… Ever. 

Thirty paces apart on the dirt road outside, the poor man never even cleared leather, but a bullet rests between his collarbones, and he himself rests on the ground. He’s got a pouch on his hip you noticed earlier, so while everyone around is frozen in place, you carefully go up to his body, stripping the valuables from him before moving on your way. To the winner go the spoils.

You holster your weapon, turn around and face the folks that stopped their journeys to watch. Some had seen the last one, they expected the outcome. Others were a bit surprised. David beat Goliath. The bigger opponent fell. 

You took a walk around the block to settle down, find a nail to notch your pistol yet again. You’ve never forgotten your earlier opponents, but something about this one makes you sadder than the rest. One and Twenty more, and whoever else is stupid enough to have the same idea.

Once you feel at rest you land back in the saloon, but it's not as empty as before, your single friend Robert Sims being the occupant. Now there are three men. There is a tall dark haired man with a mustache and a bowler hat, a darker skinned man beside him against the bar, and a young man that looked all too similar to yourself in complexion and hair color. It was nice to know that you weren’t the only one God would curse that way. 

You don't plan on letting yourself be bothered, so you sit down one stool over, beckoning a whiskey you can shoot to chase the adrenaline. You thought you had calmed down, but sitting here it feels as though you’re in the middle of a footrace, with the speed accelerating instead of decreasing. 

“Charlie Brooks?” The tall man with the mustache was the first to speak, and directly to you. 

These men have guns on their hips, and you hope they are not thinking what the last man thought. You’ve barely calmed down enough from Robert Sims, and your head would hurt having to shoot twice in one day. 

“Yes,” your confusion forced through. 

“I'd like to talk with you. This man here tells me you're quite the gunslinger,” he gestures to the bartender and you give him a glance, seemingly just doing his job minding his business when he's not running his mouth about you. 

“He told ya? Or were you outside?” 

The man had a laugh that seemed comforting almost. It was hearty and full of actual joy. He pat you on the back and you had half a mind to turn away from it for a moment, unsure of why he was so friendly or if you appreciated it yet. It’s been a while since you felt the comforting or friendly touch of someone who didn’t later try and shoot you.

“I did in fact see your show of skill, but I wasn't sure if approaching you after a fiasco like that would end up poorly for me.” 

And so you smile, because his sense of humor is alike yours, and he looks to be unphased by your violent acts of earlier. You technically didn’t break any laws. Didn’t do anything wrong, even by killing a man. He had threatened to shoot your first, if no one claims they saw the duel, you can write it off as self defense… but this man doesn’t seem too deterred. In fact, he looks all too happy having witnessed your properly provoked quick draw.

“I ain't jumpy, if that's what you're worried about.” 

But he had a different point on his mind, so the subject was changed in an instant. 

“Look, son. I'm gonna cut to the chase,” he pointed at your pistol, the newest twenty-one mark shining where it peaked out of your holster. “You have a gift for using that. I could use some talent like yours.” 

And suddenly you’re confused again. Who is this guy? What does he want? 

“I ain't a bounty hunter, sir.” 

“I can very well see that. I'm not looking for a temporary gun, kid. I need someone long term.” 

And suddenly your interest is piqued. The other men haven't said a word, and yet they seem to be a part of this offer, whatever it is. They are fully invested in your answer, on the edge of their seat - metaphorically, since they’ve been standing - while waiting. It’s strange, as if it’s all been plotted.

“Not sure I quite understand,” You slide the empty glass back after taking the second shot of whiskey, but hold your hand over the top, keeping the bartender from refilling a third. 

“If you'd be so kind as to follow me and my friends, I would be happy to explain in further detail,” he steps away from the bar, his hand outstretched to the door. This situation reads danger in every which way, but you don't stray from it. You can’t believe you’re doing it, but you follow along, an open mind. 

Nothing to lose.

-

Your horse was in the stables, an older stallion that was probably bred from war. His coat was full and black, like a starless night sky. Fury, you called him. These other men had put their horses up in the stables as well, but they were quite a bit stranger when it came to interacting with the horse hand. They paid him off so he’d forget any of you had been here. 

These men must be outlaws. Dutch, Javier, and Sean… From the time of their introductions, you were watching them with vigilance. You had started to gather that much from the way people ran inside when they passed, but the other behaviors lead you to believe that they weren’t the typical type. They weren’t just bad men looking for trouble and fun. They had reasoning, and they had qualms about who they spoke to about what. They were careful, if that word can even describe an outlaw. 

You followed them out of town, and down a road a bit. Agua Fria was a bit drier than other parts of Texas, but it had some nice trees here and there, with ponds and hills to break up the dusty roads. When you came to a clearing, a full on campsite set up, you immediately looked around, taking in who you thought would be the most imminent threats. 

“Right over here,” Dutch said, dismounting his horse and leading it to a hitching post. You followed him and the others, and the redhead, Sean, took your horse off your hands. 

“Thanks,” you mumbled. 

“This is the camp, ain’t much to look at but we’re all very tight knit, here.” 

You followed behind Dutch, he was the ringleader of all of this, as far as you could tell. He gave the orders, and the others followed. You couldn’t say you didn’t see why. He had all the capabilities of a natural born leader. His presence, his personable way with words, and even his ability to convince a random stranger to follow him. 

“S’cozy,” you said, nodding to each person you passed. He didn’t bother introducing you to them yet, and you figure it’s because he wants to see how well you fit first. No point in getting anyone attached. 

“It is indeed. I’ll have you wait here for just a moment, you can mingle, if you’d like. I’m gonna talk to a few friends of mine,” he told you before ducking into a tent, the flaps falling behind him. 

You huffed a breath, turning to the first face you saw and tipping your hat. 

“Howdy, Ma’am.”

The young woman looked up to you, a sweet smile on her face. She had lovely dark hair and beautiful blue eyes that reflected a clear sky. 

From within the tent, tensions were a bit higher. 

“First Mack and Davey, now this… kid? You can’t keep picking up people like they’re stray dogs, Dutch…” Hosea Matthews, Dutch’s right hand man was the one to speak first. He’d just heard quite a story - which to be fair, Dutch liked telling grand stories - that seemed to be impossible. 

“I know, I know… but you wouldn’t believe it even if you saw it. Hell, even I don’t.” 

“Let me get this straight,” another voice piped up from the corner, standing to make his presence more known. “This eighteen year old kid, who can barely hold up a gun… is the fastest draw you’ve ever seen?” 

“I blinked and the man was dead,” Dutch furthered his point, hearing a low whistle from the youngest man in the tent. They began to peak through the open tent flaps, not letting anyone else see them. 

“Abigail seems to like him.”

“Abigail likes everyone except John these days,” Hosea joked around, sitting himself back down when he’d taken his look at the kid. He was a spry little thing, but looked like a boy still in adolescence.

“Listen,” Dutch began, his hands raised to calm the air. “This kid could mean the difference between life or death in some of our upcoming jobs.”

The younger man looked to Dutch, then to Hosea, and then to the ground, shaking his head. Dutch was like his father, but these fantasies he conjured up sometimes to justify his antics could be wild. 

“He can shoot faster than me?” 

“My boy, I’d let you challenge him yourself if I wasn’t sure he’d drop you where you stand.” Dutch clapped a hand on his shoulder before turning to Hosea. 

“If he’s really as fast as you say, we should keep him. He can’t be of any harm otherwise.”

-

A moment lasted longer than you thought it would, but you’d garnered the attention of not one but two ladies whilst sitting in the shade of the trees. 

Abigail, the heavily pregnant young woman you’d started conversation with, and Tilly, a young lady who seemed to be swooning with every word you said. You didn’t have the heart to say nothing to her, you weren’t even sure you’d be sticking around. 

“And then what happened?” Tilly asked, scooting closer. 

“Well, I guess I shot him. S’how most these stories end, sadly.”

You suddenly felt a bit sorrowful. You’d shot a man down only today and here you’d moved on so quickly. The time of self recovery was getting shorter and shorter. Maybe you ought to stop shooting folks, then you could make some ground on a normal life… but that’s never really been your way, not since you left home. If you stay with this gang, though… the shooting gets worse, and you know that for a fact. 

“But you’re a good shot, probably why Dutch wants ya,” Abigail lifted a brow, nodding towards the tent. You were sure he’d liked you well enough, and you liked this whole tight knit unit well enough. If you shoot enough folk, you reckon you get to stay. 

“Speak of the Devil,” Tilly smiled behind where you were standing, and you took it as a queue to turn around yourself. 

“We sure as hell want him,” Dutch said, clapping a hand on your shoulder. “I have some people I want you to meet. This is my partner, Hosea Matthews.”

And the man - Hosea - smiled and waved. He seemed nice, and gentlemanly. He had a kind face, like that of a dedicated father. 

“And this,” Dutch stood aside, revealing another man stood behind him… “Is Arthur Morgan. My enforcer, and right hand man.”

You froze when he lifted his head, hat tipping upward enough to see his face. Your breath hitched in your throat as you scanned his features, falling to the stretch of his body and then roaming back up to the brim of his hat. You weren’t sure if it was from fear or from awe, but the tenseness in your body was thick and unwavering. He had all the toughness of a rugged outlaw, but his eyes were calm, serene. Like pools of oasis water against a dry and scorching desert. A beautiful man by anyone’s standard, but completely unaware of himself. 

Standing before you now, he nodded in greeting, and you had to snap out of the haze that even now surrounded you, clouding your mind and blocking out anything that wasn’t him. 

Sweet Lord above, help me look away… and finally you did, begrudgingly. 

“He’s gonna show you around, give you the rundown of how things are here,” 

“Sounds-” you coughed once, trying to play off your strange behavior as you cleared your throat. “Sounds just fine.”

“Alright then,” Dutch leaned in towards Arthur at the last second, nudging his arm as he did. “Don’t test ‘im before he’s had a chance to settle. I don’t feel like losing two fast guns on the same day.”

You heard the tail end of the conversation, but pretended it passed over your head. You were standing quietly, still halfway in awe of the man. Sandy strands of hair that fell over the corners of his eyes, his strong jawline stubbled in the same lovely color. He let his hat fall over his eyes again, but you were certain if you’d been able to see them again, you’d not be able to look away.

He fell into a slow walk beside you, beginning to lead through the campsite.

“What’s your name, kid?” 

Kid, as if you were actually one… 

“Charlie Brooks, sir,” You replied, holding a firm hand out. This was reflectant of a similar introduction you’d made earlier this morning. Didn’t matter what happened though, you wouldn’t be shooting the man before you. Not even if he begged. 

“Dutch says they call you Red.”

You dropped your pleasant expression, huffing a fast breath to match the new look on your face.

“Texas Red… But I ain’t even from Texas, so,” and it was true. You’d only earned that nickname here. 

“The red part still fits,” Arthur was teasing you. Perhaps this is what Dutch meant by ‘don’t test him.’

You sighed, realizing that you’d found the downside to this ruggedly handsome stranger… “My name is Charlie Brooks.”

Arthur laughs, shaking his head. “Don’t get upset, boy… I’m only poking fun.”

You drop the tension in your shoulders… you didn’t like being teased, but perhaps it wasn’t as bad coming from this Arthur character. 

“Men learn fast not to poke fun at me,” you told him, partially as a threat, but followed it up quickly. “I s’pose I’d better compose myself around here.”

Arthur laughed, genuinely. He seemed to find you amusing, or maybe he found you to be annoying. Either way, you earned these hearty chuckles to enjoy for yourself. 

“You may be quick with a gun, kid… but just know, that pistol on your hip couldn’t save you from me,” his voice was in a lower register when he said it, and you didn’t know whether you should be intimidated or completely and totally enamored. He wasn’t completely serious, unwilling to scare you away for Dutch’s sake. But he did want you to understand where you stood with him, and you did. 

You only nodded, and kept walking. 

He had shown you the laundry areas, where the girls nearly strip the boys down just so they have something to do in the daytime. He showed you to Mr. Pearson’s ‘kitchen,’ if you could even call it that. He showed you where the weapons are kept, but not where to refill them. He isn’t sure if he’s supposed to yet. You take in every word he says, committing it to memory, not only so you can fit in around here, but also so you can recall the sound of his voice on a whim. 

He shows you down to the sloped rim of the pond, where usually one at the time, members of the camp come to bathe in their spare hours. You wondered how far down the way you would have to bathe, just on the off chance someone might come and see. 

“Bill takes care of the horses, mostly. I’m sure he’ll add yours to his rounds if you ask ‘im,” he mentioned, walking back past the horse rails and troughs. Your horse was standing happily in the sunshine, enjoying the blue skies and grass compared to the dusty and dark stables you always put him up in.

“I’ll remember that,” you say, as if you’ll forget anything else. So far you remember everyone’s name - everyone you passed by, at least - and every individual location of the camp. 

“Miss Grimshaw and the others should have a tent for ya by sundown… if not, just bunk with me until tomorrow,” he offered, hands sat steadily on his gun belt. Your face flushed, but lucky for you, he was much taller and couldn’t see under the brim of your hat when you tilted your head. 

“That’s kind of you,” you nodded in reply, saying nothing more. 

He began to back away, needing to attend to something else, but he stopped short. 

“You’re alright, kid,” he complimented, as best as he could give one, anyway. “See you ‘round.”

And you stood still, watching him walk away with your hands at your sides. 

“I’m in deep shit…”

-

Early to bed, early to rise, yatta yatta yatta. You still hate mornings. The camp wakes at the crack of dawn, and you stir just as some folks are leaving, mounting their horses and setting off for the adventures ahead. You’re fairly certain it’s Dutch, Bill, and that other man Hosea, the one with the kind face.

You did end up taking Arthur up on his offer to bunk for the night. He was kind enough to set up one of the spare cots for you, unwilling to argue about sleeping on the ground and all that. He pegged you for the arguing type and wanted to leave well enough alone. 

He was gone from the tent-like structure by the wagon, away somewhere probably having a cup of that coffee you smelled. They must have had a pot brewing somewhere, because it was the only thing willing you to leave the shaded area you were resting. The sun wasn’t high in the sky, but you could already feel the effects of the heat swirling in around the camp. 

It was strange, going about your morning routine with others present. Washing up your face in one of the water barrels, raking your hair back over your head with your wet fingers to let the hair sit flat before you crushed it down with your hat. You’d been nearly presentable, good enough for the morning, anyway. 

It wasn’t long before you were sitting close to the congregated group, a cup of coffee in your own hands. It wasn’t the best you’ve had, but hey, it helped you keep your eyes open. You didn’t dare interject into the conversation, unknowing of it they would accept it. Not that it mattered, because you liked hearing them interact as is. They were a rowdy bunch, but they had some wit here and there.

After a while, you zoned out during talks of events you hadn’t been to, people you hadn’t met, things you didn’t get to see before coming here. You watched a bunny that leapt across the camp, running into the wilderness ahead only to disappear behind some rocks. You realized by then you were at the end of your coffee cup. You stood up to take it back to Mr. Pearson, but were interrupted by one of the others in the circle. You remember his name is John. 

“How about you, Brooks?” He asked, catching you off guard, for you had absolutely no clue what the conversation was. 

“How about me?” you replied, a furrowed brow as you stopped in your tracks and waited. 

“Are you really as fast as people say?”

You scoffed, a slanted eyebrow to the man when he seemed in disbelief. You don’t blame him, he’s never seen you shoot. 

“Faster.”

“Boy’s got some pride on ‘im. Shouldn’t be too hard to break it down,” the only other redhead in the gang reared his accented voice. “Ay, Arthur?” 

You turned to the man, stoic and quiet, his hat covering most of his face so you couldn’t see what his features were saying. 

“If Dutch says he’s faster than me, I won’t push my luck.”

Except for he wanted to. He really wanted to, and you were curious to see his skill as well. Maybe not against you, because hell… you ain’t never lost before but there’s a first time for everything, and you like it here too much to throw it away. 

“I don’t buy it. That’s just Dutch telling tales like he does,” John stood up and clapped his hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “Never in my life have I seen someone with Arthur’s shootin’ speed.”

“Never?” 

You knew it was probably not in your best interest to boast your ability on the first day, but shit, it was the only thing you had going for you. You had to make way in this group somehow. 

“Never.” 

“Alright,” you nodded. “I propose a game. Two bullets, our names carved in. We set up a can to shoot and whoever’s bullet gets trapped inside s’the one that got there first.”

Arthur lifted his head, and for the first time this morning, you saw his eyes. Your face instantly got red, but no one seemed to notice, too caught up in the heat of the exchange. 

He nodded once, a slow and decisive nod. He was thinking it over. 

“Sure,” he said, his thick accent coating the word. “Guess I’ll play along.”

And the group dispersed, grabbing everything needed. Arthur took it upon himself to carve the bullets, and strangely, you trusted him not to tamper with yours. He didn’t seem like the type to play dirty. He didn’t look like he needed to be. 

Sean set up the can on a log, a crudely drawn X out of charcoal on the rusty front of it. There were words being exchanged as you both stepped up, opening your guns to drop out all the bullets before Arthur handed yours over. His etching wasn’t too bad, but you dropped the smug look on your face when you saw what he actually put on it. 

“I told you my name’s not Red,” you huffed, taking it anyway and dropping it into the cylinder, giving it a quick spin to line it up. 

“Doesn’t matter, no one’s gonna see it but you,” he teased, loading his own gun and standing beside you, about five yards away from the can. 

“Need me to count?” you joked back, hopefully not in vain. You wouldn’t be pridefully wounded if you lost in all honesty. You’d been waiting for your talent to fail you for a long time now, and without any stakes on the table, you suppose today could be the day. 

Both guns now strapped to your hips, you waited in silence, and so did everyone else. It wasn’t something that needed cheering on, but it was definitely something to be on the edge of your seat for. 

You saw Arthur drop his hand out of the corner of your eye, so you cleared leather as fast as you could in hopes that your shot would land, and it did… or at least, you thought it did. The can went flying and both guns had been fired. 

“Who won?” John yelled over in question to Sean, who went to kneel down by the log, picking up the can. 

“Uh…” He held up the can, showing two bullet holes, before dumping out both bullets from the inside. “Both of em’.” 

And for the first time in any shoot out you’d ever participated in, you were too stunned to speak. You never doubted this man’s abilities as a talented gunslinger, but given you’d never seen him shoot, and knowing your own track record… it was surprising to see. 

“Well,” Arthur turned to you, as the others continued to chat amongst themselves, not sure how to split the bets they had made beforehand. “You beat me.” 

He offered his hand to you to shake, but you shook you head, you didn’t understand. 

“It’s a draw, both bullets hit,” you tried to reason, but he was set on his own explanation. 

“You hit first. Mine went through the top as it was fallin’.”

You shook his hand anyway, but froze in place when he spoke. Could he really tell? Was he that detail oriented when shooting? You’d never known much of your craft, just that you could do it, just that you’d practiced a bunch and got pretty damn good… but you didn’t even think to make that observation. 

“That don’t count,” you tried to absolve him, still feeling as though from what he said alone, he was the better gunslinger. “I’ve never said this before… but I would not duel you, Arthur Morgan. You’ve scared me somethin’ awful with that gun.”

He had a chuckle in his exhale as he let it fall from his lips, a nod and the drop of your handshake. “Guess we both met our match today.”

“I’d say so.”

-

The day was slow. When Dutch and Hosea and Bill returned in the evening, there was some wind of a job coming up, the first one you’d inevitably be invited to. It was discussed quickly and not in great detail, and the heads of the camp still had some ideas churning about it. Hopefully you’d be able to keep up in the heat of the moment, as you’d never done anything like this before. Never robbed folk - alive folk, at least - or taken something as a means to survive. You’ve lived off of bets and fools you shot dead. It was a lousy way to live but it had never gotten as low as stealing or cold blooded murder. 

The thoughts turned over in your head and for some reason you couldn’t seem to lose them, but at the end of the night they were momentarily stalled when Arthur helped you carry the already assembled cot into your new tent. It was simple, just a double sided narrow-pitched tent, no room inside for anything but a cot and a single human. You could just kick your boots under the cot when you slept, that would be the extent of your storage space. At least it had the privacy of the two flaps at the front, current parted like curtains to allow entrance. 

Once everything was set up, Arthur took a step back, but didn’t leave yet. 

“Thank you, Arthur. I’ll owe you one,” you promised, trying to be as casual about his genuine help and concern over you the past day. No one had ever shown this much attentiveness to you, and though you know he’s only acting on orders from Dutch, it feels like he really cares. He’s kind and he’s gentle, despite his rugged appearance and reputation. 

“S’no problem,” he scratched the back of his neck, looking from side to side to make sure everyone had either retired for the night or was too occupied to listen in. “I wanted to tell you something.”

You furrowed your brow, crossing your arms. 

He sighed and met your eyes again, debating his words in his head. Out with it already…

“I know you’re a lady,” he tried to speak evenly, but the tail end of his sentence got caught. 

Your eyes widened before he even finished his sentence. You looked around as well before shoving him inside your tent, too small for one person let alone two. 

“You don’t know anything,” you assured him, suddenly self conscious of how he perceived you. What was it? Your voice? The way you walked? Your body? Was anybody else going to notice? 

“I wasn’t pryin’, I swear,” he said, reaching into his satchel, still on his hip after a long day. “Bill left early this morning, I took care of your horse. These fell out of your saddlebag…”

He held out to you the most damning piece of evidence there could possibly be. Long cotton wraps and a sanitary apron, the brand new woolen padding you’d gotten was pressed inside and ready. 

Shit. You didn’t even think twice about hiding the contents of your saddle bag when arriving here. No one had ever been kind enough to care for your horse, so you didn’t worry. 

You looked into his eyes, firm but not judgemental. When you looked at him just a second too long they turned to a silent fear. Like he was a child getting caught stealing sweets. 

“Don’t tell Dutch,” you begged, and he huffed a sigh, unsure of what to do. 

“I can’t lie to im’,” he shook his head, shrugging his shoulders. You were new, this wasn’t just about loyalty, it was about hierarchy. You, the new soldier, could not dare ask the second in command to deprive his leader of the truth. 

“I’m not asking you to. Just don’t tell him, yet. I’ll think of a way to let him know…”

You knew it was a stretch, but he was wonderful with the women of the camp, a man of high honor among the ladies. Surely he would help you, just until you were ready to share your secret. 

“We’re different, y’know? If you’ve been hidin’ all this time out there, that’s one thing… but you ain’t gotta do that here.”

“I don’t want them to look at me differently…” you trailed, silently pleading with him. 

He nodded, the look in your eyes nearly breaking his heart. There’s a story within you, but he’ll wait to hear it. For now, he just complies, hearing your voice at it’s softest point, the feminine silkiness flowing through. You only ever spoke to yourself like that anymore.

“Okay,” he placed a warm hand on your shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze, before maneuvering out of your small tent. “Just until you tell ‘im yourself, ya hear?” 

You nodded in understanding, a thankful and sweet smile dining your features. “Goodnight, Arthur.”

“G’night, Red…”

TAGS: @sheepdogchick3

[ladyelissarose]

—————————— ☠️

“Sergeant?”

You had just sunk down to the ground, against the wall as your tried to breathe. The usual bright eyes you always wore, searching for his dark ones, are now locked on the ground as you sat across your superior, Lieutenant Simon Riley... other known as the ‘Ghost’. His callsign or sorta nickname didn’t scare you, he wasn’t the cold man every one knew him to be, instead he had grown easy around you, making his personal space your little safe haven. He was still quiet and sometimes distant, but he still was a safe place.

But right now you felt as if everything around you was too close, you couldn’t catch your breath and we’re growing anxious because of it. Panic and desperation were clawing out of you at this point, but they had no chance in escaping.

Loud ringing sounds could be heard in your ears, causing your head to pound, but above that noise in your head you heard the calm voice, call out to you in the distance,

“You alright kid?”

Your eyes still didn’t meet his, but you nonetheless replied with a small voice, unlike the loud but firm one you often used,

“I don’t k-know...”

It cracked in the end, showing Simon you were at the verge of breaking, but he could also tell you were trying to keep it together- be strong.

But it didn’t look like it was working, your breathing’s pace was picking up and there was a slight shake to you too, you were trembling.

This reaction from you was new to Simon, but he was quick to detect what it was nonetheless. Personally he’s met this kind of feeling before- he wasn’t new to it at all.

But It would be the first time he’s ever attempted to do something so deep and connecting, but he knew it would help you.

He didn’t have to force the words out of you to know what was happening or how to address it, he knew what had happened a few minutes ago was the closest thing ever to taking your life, and what didn’t help was when you ran back in the falling building anyways, barely making it out with the two kids before it fully collapsed.

Fear didn’t come close to how you were feeling, but for the past seconds to minutes you haven’t been able to feel anything, or let your mind register the trauma your body went through. Making sure everything was ok and in order, meaning you unfortunately didn’t come first when you had so many responsibilities ahead of you.

But Simon’s large hand engulfed your face, and the other got both of your hands and stopped the fidgeting, tightening the hold as he pulled you closer, bringing your head against his chest. Breaking the panic you were developing.

Slowly your eyes met his as you looked up at him, and you couldn’t help the heavy stone weighing down in your throat, blocking out the words that wanted to come out, and tell him you needed help.

Tears began to well in your eyes as Simon’s softened, the realization that you were alive and well took a toll on you, as you had barely escaped the jaws of death that day, and finally you were able to calm down and take it all in.

You looked behind you to see the building in flames and totally wrecked, Simon locked eyes with what you were beholding, and he felt how scared you were. Panic wanted to settle in you more, as you recalled the thoughts that ran through your head as you dodged the falling ceiling, hoping that it wouldn’t fall on you or the kids you were holding.

‘Don’t die don’t die- OH SHIT- that was close!! Oh! Hold the kids tighter they’ll fall and the younger one can’t walk- they’re depending on you, come on make it- please don’t fall on me-‘

Thoughts spiraling like a hurricane, until a gentle tug was felt on your hands. And a deep voice with a softness to it called out,

“C’mere sweetheart.”

His free hand beckoned you towards him, and when you got close enough it wrapped around your waist and pulled you into his lap, and took your place against the wall. Instinctively you got comfortable and laid your palm over his chest, where his heart was. He had discarded his vest so you could feel closer, and hoodie he wore was was thin enough where you could still make out his heartbeat and even feel it’s steady thuds.

Your teary face was mere inches from his masked up one, and ever so gently Simon used the pad of his thumb to wipe them all away, while his hand held your cheek.

You were like a little angel in the arms of a monster, seeking comfort in his darkness as your light had dimmed. His eyes were dark shades of brown, but they held a honey ring around it’s making them unique and him- Simon Riley.

The arm that was around your waist now slid to your bottom, holding you up closer so you wouldn’t slide off his lap. Your face was then guided by his hand to lay your head on his shoulder, your face resting against his neck, inhaling his scent which was musky yet warm and woody.. a hint of citrus could be detected too.

Simon placed his head on yours, and with the softest voice he could possibly muster with his deep Manchester accent, he cooed,

“It’s alright sweet girl.. I’m righ’ here.”

You nodded against him as you tried to breathe slowly, sniffles coming out here and there, although you tried matching your erratic breathing to his calm one, hoping to synchronize it.

A little rumble could be felt coming from his chest, a low chuckle came out of Ghost’s mask, not in a mocking way, but to ease the heavy tension.

“That gave you quite the scare eh? I’s alright... Johnny would’ve shit his pants for sure, not you though.. you’re a brave one huh sweetheart?”

A small giggle released your once trembling lips at what Ghost said about Soap, and it comforted him to know you’re cheering up a bit. You snuggled into him closer, finding comfort in his embrace as he made you feel easy and alive- even with the smallest gestures.

His hands never left as he cradled you, rubbing your back, squeezing your side, caressing your head or holding your fidgeting fingers... he never stopped letting you know he hadn’t let you go.

His soft breaths being heard, the calm beating of his heart as he made sure your ear was over it, the little hums he’d do when he felt it was too quiet, kissing your head through his mask here and there... it was his way of telling you, you were just as alive as he was.

Simon’s hold on you never faltered, as he poured his unsaid affection for you in heart-full and true actions. From now on he’d keep you an arm’s length away- if not in his arms better yet.

[13as07]

It Hurts

(Itachi Uchahi)

[Art work is not mine! Credit to Hikaru Meo]

Requested by: Myself

[Idea inspired by I'm Yours sung by Isabel LaRosa]

Word Count: 3,304

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

I'll fight to my grave that Uchihas go through withdrawals if they're away from the people/person they love for too long

Also, angst. Sorry, not sorry. Suffer and cry like I did while writing it :)

———————————————————————

     "Hey," a voice calls softly before a finger is tapped against my forehead.

     "Hey," I call back, tearing my eyes out of my textbook to look at the poker. Standing in front of me is Itachi, who's not looking too hot. He's pale, paler than normal, and decorated in sweat droplets. "You don't look too good."

     "I'm fine," he mumbles, eyes glancing around the school grounds.

     "Your suspension over?" He hums a yes, eyes flickering to me before he goes back to the scenery. "Are you still grounded?" Another hummed yes. "For how long?"

     "I don't know," he mutters, shifting his weight around.

     His face flashes with pain, visible for only a second, before he's stone-faced again. "You seem sick, maybe you should go home and rest."

     "I'm fine," Itachi repeats, eyes landing on me again, but this time they stay put.

     "No, you're not. You look like you're dying."

     "I'm not dying, Little Crow." My face scrunches at the nickname. I don't like when Itachi uses it, it makes me feel like he's degrading me or has an inside joke that I'm not in on. "I'm just in a bit of pain. It'll subside."

     "Why are you in pain?" I yelp, my words soaked in worry. Because of my worry, I'm on my feet, sliding my hands over my best friend in search of any injuries. "I thought you didn't start duty for another two weeks?" Panic soon fills my words as well, another unwanted emotion filling me because of my unwanted best friend.

     Throughout our school years, Itachi has been attached to my hip and unwilling to be unattached. Over the three years, I've accepted it. There's no point in fighting an uphill battle, even if the hill is an unemotional, stone-faced, Uchiha protege.

     "I don't."

     "You don't what?" I hiss, patting him down again.

     "I don't start for another two weeks," Itachi explains, his hands catching my wrists.

     "Then why are you in pain? Did you pick another fight?" I question, anger quickly replacing my worry. The last thing Itachi needs is to be picking more fights, especially with the start of his Shinobi career just fourteen days away.

"No, can't you just drop it?" Itachi huffs, his hands sliding down to cup my elbows.

"Headstrong, ego-driven shinobis are usually the firsts to die in battle," I respond, mimicking his huffiness. "Why are you hurting?"

Itachi's eyes fall closed, soft breaths being inhaled and held before exhaling, his attempt to stay patient with me. "You."

"Me?!" I screech, about ready to throw down with Mr 'Amazing'.

"Yes. Well, no, but also yes. Just drop it," his face heats up, pink dusting his sheet-white skin as his nose scrunches up. Mr. 'Amazing' is experiencing some big-boy emotions, ones he doesn't know how to deal with. "It's complicated," Itachi tries again after another round of calming breaths.

"Then explain it to me, or are you too high and mighty for me now?"

His face scrunches up at my question, but I'm not sure if it's from anger or sadness. "You are incredibly naive."

"And you're too big for your britches."

Itachi's face relaxes again at my insult. He all of a sudden seems better, some of the sweat subsiding and his skin getting just a hint of color back sometime during our discussion. "You're so pretty it hurts."

"I knew that-" I cut myself off once Itachi's answer fills my mind. The words tumble around, not being able to process correctly. "I don't... what did you say?"

     "I said," Itachi starts, shifting closer to me. His eyes almost glow as he stares into mine, his hands tight but soft to keep me in place, and his nose barely touching mine. "You're so pretty it hurts."

     "How... how does that..." A rare smile cracks across his face, hiding his stress lines the slightest.

"I don't know. My mother said that... well... if someone from my clan cares about... if we're away from someone... it's kind of like getting withdrawals." My chest warms from Itachi's stuttering, his words sticking in his throat as he tries to explain.

"So what you're saying is that you're an addict and I'm your drug," I tease, pulling away from my emotionally stunted friend. "What a little addict."

"That is not what I'm saying. I'm not an addict - Little Crow," Itachi races out, huffing and puffing as he walks after me.

     "How do you plan to survive once you're an active-duty Shinobi? What are you going to do? Make yourself little fixes to take with you, little addict?" I continue to tease, walking down the familiar path towards my home.

     "I don't know. It'll be fine. Can you stop wording it like that? What if someone eavesdrops? They're going to think I'm a drug addict." It's entertaining seeing how upset Itachi is about this. It's a nice reminder that he's not as old as he acts.

     "It's quite the ego boost to know I'm your addiction, Tachi."

     "Little Crow!" He hisses again, eyes jumping around to the people filling the busy streets of the village.

     "Hey, maybe now that you'll be too busy for me, I'll become the addiction of a different Uchahi."

     "No," he yells, his hand shooting forward to grab ahold of my shirt collar. "Absolutely not," he repeats softer this time, tugging me backward, my back colliding with his chest.

Itachi feels hot, his body heat sizzling through his shirt. "I was just kidding," I tell him, leaning my head back to look at the angry future chief. "I'm yours." Once the words are out, his body heat noticeably drops, shifting him back to the normal cold-to-the-touch temperature I'm used to.

———————————

The knocking on my window echoes through my ears, temporarily silencing my heartbeat that's been pounding there. Another knock rings out before two glowing circles appear on the other side of the glass. The familiar red I've grown accustomed to suddenly scares me.

Silently, Itachi slides my window open, climbing through it for the millionth time of our lives. The sight of him makes me panic, all the whispers about tonight booming in my head.

     "Did you-"

     "Ya," the answer is short, but so loud at the same time. So many emotions push through with it, most noticeably sadness.

     My heart pings, but only for a second. The need to comfort Itachi washes away when my eyes catch sight of the blood smeared on his cheek. Panic quickly rises again as I look over him. More blood smears cover his Anbu uniform.

     "I think you should-"

     "Just let me hold you. Just... please." His request tugs at my heart again, chasing away any sane response I can come up with.

     When I don't say no, Itachi slowly moves towards me, very obviously leaving his katana against the wall. His arms fall into place, wrapping around my sides and knotting themselves behind my back. I'm gently pressed into his chest, my face buried into the material of his uniform. It reeks of blood and misery, leaving a bad taste in my mouth.

     "It hurts," he whispers, voice creaking and chest jumping with a silent sob.

     "What hurts?" I ask gently, clinging to his sides as much as he's clinging to mine.

     "You." The word hangs in the air as Itachi buries his face into my hair, soft sobs being whispered into it. "You're so pretty it hurts," he tells me for the hundredth time. The words fill me with love, the same way they have since we were eight. It's a bittersweet moment, Itachi's undying love poking through all the distraction and murder he's caused tonight.

     "Why does it hurt, Tachi? You just saw me this morning."

     His fingers ghost through my hair, his head shifting to my neck and gently pressing his nose against my skin. "We won't... Little Crow... you... can't be mine anymore... it'll eat you alive."

     My hands gently rub his sides, my tears threatening to spill out with the truth. The truth I've been avoiding all night long. "Stop worrying yourself. I'm yours," I whisper, trying my best to keep my voice even and my tears from flowing. "I'll always be yours."

     A gentle kiss is pressed to my forehead. When Itachi's lips leave my skin, he's gone completely. No sign of him anywhere to be seen.

     A knock fills the room again, this time coming from the door. "Anbu Black Ops. Open up."

———————————

     "Welcome home." The greeting comes once my front door is opened, startling me.

     "Who's there?" I call trying to keep the fear out of my voice as I glance around the dark space.

     The red glowing eyes of my dreams soon fill the darkness, bringing a drop of peace to the wave of panic. "It's just me, Little Crow. There's no need to panic." Tears prickle my eyes at the nickname. The past year of emotions wash over me; anger, sadness, fear, longing, and love, all hit me at once.

     Itachi moves slowly through my home, making his way toward the front door and in turn, me. He stops in front of me, feverish heat rolling off of him and colliding with me. "I've missed you," he whispers, dipping his head down. Our noses brush, the skin of his feeling like flames of a fire.

     "I missed you too," I murmur, my eyes locked on his even though I know that's the last thing I should do. "What, um... what are you doing here?"

     He shifts again, lips brushing against mine as he speaks. "I wanted to remind the council I'm still around. I don't need them messing with Sasuke... or you."

     "Oh."

     A soft kiss is pressed to my lips, both mending the last year and breaking my heart even more. I reach out, my hands clinging to his clothing as our lips dance together.

     When we pull apart, Itachi's eyes scan over me, taking in the minor and major changes from the past fifteen months. My hands slide against his chest. Sweat has soaked through his shirt, leaving him drenched.

     "You're so pretty it hurt," he mutters, head falling to be pressed into my neck as his hands grip my waist. Despite the time apart, Itachi's love still seeps through his words. His longing for me is evident in his voice. "Make me stop hurting. Please."

     "How do I do that, Tach? Stop being so pretty?" I can feel the smile being pressed into my skin, a silent curse falling from me because of the darkness coating the room.

     "You're mine." He mumbles, lips brushing against my neck, working their way down.

     "I'm yours," I echo, letting the lava of Itachi's skin burn into my hands as I slide them up to cup his face.

     "Let me make you mine, please," he asks, head shifting so I can hold it better. His sharingans glow so beautifully in the pitch black, the sight quickly burning away any fear I have of them.

     "Itachi."

     His hands slide from my sides as he falls to his knees. They land behind my thighs, clinging to me as his head nestles into my stomach. I let my hands drop down too, burring them into his crow-colored hair. "Please?" Itachi continues to beg, pressing careful kisses into my torso.

     "Be gentle."

     "I will."

———————————

     Itachi clings to my legs, gentle praises and pleads fall from him. "Just this once," he tries again, his lips trailing up my thighs. "Please?"

     "I don't like going on your... outings with you."

     "I know."

     His kisses waiver as his eyes crawl up to my face. "It hurts when you're not with me."

     "I know."

     His hands shift, balling up the fabric of my dress. "You'll have a nice time. I promise. Please." The words are coated in desperation, just as much desperation as his hands that are going white from him clinging to me. "It'll be like a vacation."

     "Normal people don't murder someone on their vacation."

     A sharp breath is sucked in by Itachi, the oxygen stifling his whine. Tears start forming in his eyes as he looks up at me, the dark shading of his eye color slowly shifting to the bleeding red of his sharingans. "You're so pretty it hurts. It hurts so much when I'm away. I can't survive four weeks without you. Please my Little Crow."

     "You survived a year without me. A month will be like nothing."

     Tears streak down his cheeks, hands shifting to grip my hips instead of the fabric of my clothes. "Please? You're mine, aren't you? Pretty please?" The words are broken up by sobs, tugging my heart into reluctantly giving in.

     "Yes, I'm yours," I mumble, sliding my hands through his hair to flatten out the loose strands.

     Itachi knows what he's doing, he knows I'm still uneasy from the last time he was gone for an extended amount of time. I swore he was going to die from longing. His fever was high, higher than it had ever been, and took longer than normal to level back out.

     The longing for his brother is finally starting to catch up to him. Why should I put him through more longing just for my comfort?

———————————

“I’m dying.”

“I know.”

The words stab my heart, even though I knew they were coming soon. I know Itachi has been coughing up blood. I know Sasuke’s life mission is to kill his brother. I know our time is limited, has been limited from the beginning. It doesn’t make it any easier.

The familiar trail of kisses is pressed against my skin. Starting at my knee, trialing up my thigh, crossing my hip, and curving over my stomach before trialing back down my other leg.

The familiar feeling of his fingers clinging to me promises to leave small bruises on the back of my legs.

The newest familiar feeling of blood trickling from Itachi leaves the sticky and warm sensation of fresh blood against my skin. All the familiar feelings that’ll never happen again.

“Don’t hate Sasuke,” he whispers against my skin, starting his second lap of kisses.

“I won’t,” my promise is followed by tears prickling my eyes, threatening to spill over.

“You’re so pretty it hurts. It hurts so much,” Itachi says, spilling out his version of ‘I love you’.

“I know.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his warm breath coating my skin, making it tingle with need. Need to make Sasuke forgive his brother, need to make time slow down, need to fix the illness that’ll take Itachi away from me even if his brother doesn’t.

“For what?” I ask, tingling my fingers in his hair for the last time. The last time I’ll see Itachi on his knees yearning for me. The last time he’ll kiss me. The last time I’ll see his chest pumping with life.

“All of it. For making you mine, for forcing you into a life of regret.”

“I don’t regret my life with you,” my honesty makes tears fall from both of us. Mine coats my cheeks as Itachi’s mixes with the smears of blood on my thighs, making it smear even more.

“My Little Crow?” I hum a yes, not believing I can speak without sobbing. “Promise me you’ll move on. That you’ll find someone else to spend your life with.”

“I can’t do that, Tach. I’m yours. Only yours. Always have been, always will be.” My answer tears my heart apart even more, partly because it’s true and partly because I know I’ll never get to say it to him again.

“I love you,” he mumbles, another kiss being pressed into my stomach.

“I love you too.”

———————————

“Hello,” a voice rings out, making more sadness soak into my heart.

“Hello,” I answer back, keeping my eyes locked forward. They trial over Itachi’s clan symbol painted into the wall above his memorial. Once I’m done doing that for the tenth time today, I let them drop down to his death platter.

Sasuke shifts behind me, moving to stand next to me instead. “I was wondering who kept leaving flowers.”

“Is that why you set the trap?” I ask, shrugging towards the now dismembered trapped that awaited me for my visit today.

“Ya.” Sasuke sinks to the soil, sitting next to me.

I spare him a glance, a mistake on my end. Even as a boy, he looked so much like his brother. It would be almost impossible to tell the brothers apart if it wasn’t for Itachi’s stress lines. Now… now all I see is Itachi when I look at him.

Before I can stop it, tears spill over, coating my cheeks like they have for the past handful of years.

“Please don’t cry,” he whispers, eyes landing on me. Sasuke sucks in a breath and holds it, calming himself down the same way his brother used to. “I remember you… a lot,” he mutters, his own eyes bouncing around the grave site.

“Ya?” I tease, my voice still shaky. “I’m not surprised. Ita… I was with you as much as he was,” I continue, shrugging towards the grave. “Before everything, at least.”

“I assumed you were dead.”

“I’m sure most people do.”

Silence falls between us, a heavy sad but mutually understanding silence. Though, it doesn’t last long. “I remember what my brother would say to you, every time he saw you. Every time.”

“‘You’re so pretty it hurts’,” I quote, fresh tears coating my eyes.

“I thought he was crazy saying it. How could someone be pretty enough that it hurt to be away? I thought he was dumb.”

I chuckle at Sasuke’s confusion, a piece of my heart falling back into place.

“Well, I get what he’s saying now. There’s this girl and… I understand what he meant now.”

I look at Sasuke again, shoving down the heartache that comes with it. His face is scrunched up, his nose curling the same way Itachi’s would when he was struggling with emotional situations.

“We’re getting married… Sakura and me and… um… she asked what family I wanted to invite.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shrugs, turning his attention back to me. His sharingans glow with the familiar red I’m used to. They’re so different from his brother’s. “She didn’t mean anything by it. Sakura doesn’t always use her head before she talks.” Sasuke smiles softly to himself, causing me to smile too.

Another piece of my heart clicks into place.

“I don’t have any family… obviously,” the sad word is followed by his eyes widening, another trait the brothers both inherited from their father. “But I have you.”

“Me?”

Sasuke shrugs again, eyes jumping away from me. “It’s safe to say you’re my sister-in-law. That makes you my last family member. You are, right?”

“Ya, I’m yours,” I answer, my eyes falling on Itachi’s grave when the last two words stumble out of me. “Your family,” I correct, bittersweet emotions filling my chest.

Sasuke sighs, his body language relaxing a bit. “Apparently there’s this ‘mother-son’ dance thing. It’s the same as a ‘father-daughter’ dance I guess. I don’t… ya.”

“Ya,” I echo, the weight of Itachi’s actions hanging over us.

“I would like you to be there and… maybe dance with me,” the awkward words are followed by a cough. “I would like you to come back to the village too. So we can… so that I’m… so you aren’t… ya.”

“As you wish,” I whisper, burning Itachi’s memorial into memory. Sasuke doesn’t have to say it. I know what he means, what he wants. He wants to have and be reminded of good memories of his brother, for me - the last good piece of Itachi - to not wither away.

“Thank you.”

The soft words, the gentle conversation has started threading my heart back together.