#and i've tried being patient with you but you need to pick it up

[nattousan]

when

whe you, when You were just trying to put i n some extra effort to try adn improve yoursel f and it got misinterpreted as malicious n u get yell ed at

[xhoneygirlxx]

WANTED U

Eddie Munson x Best Friend Reader

summary: when your date is ruined by your best friend, can you stay mad at him when he reveals a secret you've been dying to know?

warnings: fluff, slight angst, Eddie is deep in his feels, two idiots in love. Minors DNI 18+ ONLY! mentions of drinking, Eddie gets drunk. swearing. p in v, creampie (wrap it up kiddos), fingering, body worship and praise. Reader's race/ethnicity is not mentioned! she/her pronouns used. Both Eddie and Reader are in their twenties. Also not proofread, spelling errors and horrible writing!

*if I miss anything please let me know!

a/n: Hi honey bunnies! I just want to thank @ali-r3n for this really cute idea! I'm so sorry it took me forever to post and I'm sorry about the shitty writing! Smut is not my strong suit and I've been plagued with the horrible writers block, so I hope this is okay! I hope you like this and thank you for being so wonderful and patient <3

All you wanted to do was to go on one date. One singular date. For the first time since your high school prom, you were going out with someone who was interested in you. A tinder match that led to multiple conversations, that led to having drinks, to hopefully going back to his place for a well needed time in the sheets. 

That was the plan for the night. Then your phone started to blow up with phone calls and texts, an apparent SOS that couldn’t wait. So you had to cancel, mid-date, telling your date that there was a family emergency. You knew walking out of there that Jordan wouldn’t text you back or ever take you up on the second date offer. 

It wasn’t like you were heartbroken over it, however you were a little bummed. The whole reason you even got on the dating app was because you were trying to get over your best friend. Eddie Munson stole your heart at the age of fifteen and had yet to give it back. It was a sick cycle that you have been going through for nine years. 

You were the lovesick best friend, who just couldn’t take the hint, following him around like a lost dog. Eddie had you wrapped around his finger and you didn’t care. Canceling plans just because he wanted to see you, doing whatever he asked just because, and never dating with the hopes of him finally falling for you. 

Those dreams were fruitless however, because Eddie didn’t see you as anything more than a friend. All the pining and unrequited love was killing you, a slow painful death that would put medieval torture devices to shame. It’s not like you could blame the brown haired boy, it’s not like you can pick who you fall for, but that didn’t stop you from wishing it would happen. 

So therefore you took the giant leap and put yourself out there, trying to ease the ache of your heart. In the end you ended up in Eddie’s apartment, helping him in his drunken state, get to bed. The emergency that Jeff blew your phone up for, was this. A night out with the guys turned into Eddie getting belligerent and refusing to leave until you came and got him. 

The whole car ride there you were disappointed in yourself, the whole reason for your dumb date was to stop yourself from running to the rescue every time he called. You were annoyed and heavily frustrated with the outcome of your night. It almost felt like the universe was against you, whatever god above watching you and laughing every single time you failed to move on. 

As much as you wanted to hate the grown man sitting in front of you, you simply couldn’t. His whiskey colored eyes round and glossy, nose and cheeks rosy with the heat of alcohol coursing through him, and his hair messy from the cold night wind. He was so pretty and it was hard trying to stay mad at him, especially when he had a deep dimpled smile adorning his face. 

“Alright Eds, I need you to change out of your clothes.” You say sweetly, the pile of his pajama’s hanging in your hands. 

Following your instructions, he tries to lift his shirt over his head, only for it to get caught on his head. “Sweets, I need help.” He sounds like a helpless child trying to tie his shoes, and you have to stifle a laugh. 

Placing the change of clothes next to him on the bed, you swiftly pull the stuck fabric off of him. When his head is released, he shakes his hair out of his face so he can see you. A childlike wonder flits in his eyes as he looks at you, admiring the way you’re being so gentle. 

A small thank you is whispered, you hum in response as you pull the new shirt on him. His eyes close as you gently tug his arms through the hole, soaking up the amount of attention you give to him. It feels like you’re changing a newborn, so docile and content with the way you handle him. 

“Can you take your pants off yourself or do you need me to help?” Your voice breaks his sleepy demeanor, droopy eyes looking up at you. 

“You gonna buy me dinner first?” Wiggling his eyebrows, he playfully smirks at you. 

“Ha ha, very funny.” You deadpan, yet your heart beat picks up at his innuendo. 

Surprisingly, he’s able to take his bottoms off and replace them with the pair you picked out for him. Pulling the jewelry off his wrist and fingers, you place them hastily on his bedside table. His eyes follow your every move, like a curious kitty watching their owner. Pulling back the covers on his bed, you gently lay him down and prop his head up with pillows. 

“So you have your bottle of water right here,” You show him by picking it up off the table where it’s sat, “And the bottle of Tylenol is right next to it. Now if at any moment you feel like you have to throw up, the garbage can is right next to you on the floor. Okay?” 

Humming to you in understanding, he closes his eyes once more. When you think he’s about to pass out, you turn on your heel to grab clothes for yourself. Not getting far, his big hand wraps around your wrist gently, bringing your attention back to him. This time his expression isn’t as content or happy. No, his eyes are glassy with unshed tears and his bottom lip jets out in a pout. 

“Please don’t leave.” It’s a whispered plea, innocent and childlike. 

“I’m not leaving Eds, just grabbin’ some clothes to change into.” Even with your assuring smile, he’s still frowning at you. 

“Please just, don’t leave.” Tugging your arm slightly, he brings you closer to the bed. 

“Eddie, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” You’re now concerned with the state of your best friend and why he felt the need to beg you to stay. 

“Promise? What about Jacob?”

“Eddie, what are you talking about?” Although he closes his eyes again, you still press for answers. 

“I don’t wanna lose you t’some douche. You needa be with me, sweets cause I love you s’much. Don’t wanna lose you to him.” It’s all a slurred mess, his words mumbling together as they fall out of his mouth. 

“If you mean Jordan, no I’m not going to leave you for him” You giggle softly, “I left my date with him to come get you. Plus his stories about kayaking were starting to get boring.” You try to lighten the mood, but it only makes his lip wobble more. 

“I shoulda made a move, I wanted to b-but I-I was scared. Gareth told me I lost my chance with you and he-he was right.” A few stray tears fall down his cheek and you lift a hand to wipe them away. 

The same brown eyes you fell in love with, all those years ago, stare up at you. The heart that’s bleed for him for nine years is starting to heal, the words you so desperately wanted to hear are finally coming to light. 

With your own tears glistening in your eyes, you look down at him like you always do. With the biggest heart in your eyes and brightest smile on your face. “You should stop listening to Gareth, Eds. I think you still have a shot, but we’ll talk about this later. When you’re not drunk.” 

Bobbing his head the best he can, he squeezes your hand once before retracting it. With his eyes closed and steady breaths leave his parted lips, you get changed and turn off the lights. Maybe the universe wasn’t against you, maybe it was on your side the whole time and just had a funny way of showing it. 

__

The bright sun pouring through the window, wakes you up. The sight before you is one you’ve seen before. The side profile of your best friend’s face, wild hair sprawled over the pillow that lays beneath him. You take this moment in to study his features, the slope of his nose, the way his eyelashes kiss the tops of his cheeks, and how kissable his lips look. 

Not much later is he stirring, stretching his limbs out after his wild night out. Cracking one of his eyes open, he winces slightly before running his hands down his face. Blinking once or twice, he finally lets himself wake up, staring straight at the ceiling. You wonder if he remembers what he said or if you should bring it up. Instead you choose to play it cool, or at least try to. 

“Good morning drunky! How’d you sleep?” Reaching a finger out, you poke his side.

“Drunky,” he snorts,” I actually slept well, thanks to my wonderful nurse.” He takes a peak over at you, a smug smile already pushing his cheeks up high. 

You try to ignore the butterflies in your tummy when you hear his voice, thick and husky with sleep. The giddy feeling rushing through you is written all over your face, covered up by a bad attempt of biting back a smile. 

“Well, I’m glad you don’t feel so shitty.” You say, stretching your body to distract yourself from his burning gaze. 

“What time is it anyway?” His question comes out in a yawn, loud and exaggerated. Propping up on your elbow, you lean over him to get a look at your alarm clock. 

“A little past ten.” Eddie huffs, muttering something about it being far too early. “I know it’s too early for you but that just means we can go to Jerry’s and get waffles to soak up whatever's left in your system.” You coo at him mockingly, fake pouting as you look at him. 

“Ya know, I don’t enjoy your fake pity.” Eddie rolls his eyes at you, a frown pulling at the corner of his lips.

“Oh I’m sorry, Eds. Want some ketchup with those cries?” Eddie’s frown deepens like a bratty child, and you eat up every second of it. “Oh, I know! I’ll call a wambulance.” You throw your head back, laughing at your own joke. 

With your attention off of him, he sees the perfect opportunity to laugh. At lightning speed, he grips your hands, flipping you over on your back. With the weight of his thighs bracketing you and his hand gripping your wrists together, you’re defenseless. 

With a wild glint in his eyes, Eddie wastes no time in attacking you with a finger to your side. Relentlessly, Eddie tickles you to the point there are tears in your eyes from how hard you're laughing, and your pleas for him to stop are swallowed by the oxygen that’s being stolen from your lungs. 

“It’s not so funny when it’s your turn, huh?” Smirking down at you, his attack doesn’t relent. 

Thrashing around the best you can, you try everything to get him off but with the way his thighs squeeze your legs together makes it hard to do so. 

“Okay, Okay! I’m sorry, Eddie! Please!” The last word comes out as the softest moan, so soft that you would miss it if you weren’t paying attention. However, Eddie was and his fingers stopped digging into your sides immediately. 

The sound of your heavy breathing is the only thing to be heard. Eddie stares down at you, eyes unblinking and cheeks dusted pink. The usually brown eyes are now dark, the dark pupil over taking the iris. You stare right back at him, chest rising and falling dramatically and lips parted slightly letting the air from your lungs flow out easily. 

It feels like the world has stopped, time frozen still for eternity. The mid-morning light painting the two of you in a portrait, cementing the moment forever. Two heart beats synching up together, beating against the bones of your rib cages. 

“Fuck it.”

Eddie rushes in to smash his lips against yours. Years of waiting and wondering if this moment would ever happen, now finally laying to rest. The taste of him has been the missing part of your life this whole time and you wonder if he’s thinking the same thing. 

It’s sweet and slow, his tongue slipping inside your mouth softly. Morning breath be damned, the two of you make out for what seems like hours on end. Parting from each other for much needed air, a small giggle leaves your mouth. 

“What?” Eddie smiles, his face as dopey and gooey as you feel on the inside. 

“I just wanted this for so long.” You admit, making his smile pull wider. 

Leaning back down to you, he peppers kisses all over your face. The snickering that’s leaving your mouth is slowly turned into a whimper when his lips find their way to your neck. A gasp pulls from your chest the minute he finds that spot, eliciting him to suck on it. Hissing when it becomes too much, Eddie is quick to soothe the sting with his tongue. 

Pulling his face away from the crevice of your neck, his eyes find yours as his hand glides to find the hem of your shirt. Tugging on it and raising an eyebrow in question, you nod overenthusiastically. 

Ripping the oversized shirt over your face, he takes his time to memorize all the details of your skin. The heat of his stare becomes a bit too much, worry overtaking your brain causing you to bite down on your lip. 

“I just want you to know that I’ve waited since freshman year to see these bad boys.” Attention still drawn on your bare chest. 

“Well, do they live up to the hype?” You question, tone not as confident as you think. 

Eddie’s head whips up to you, mouth agape and you swear you can see drool pooling from his lips. “Sweets, you have no idea.” 

Diving in, he kisses the doughy flesh of your breasts, going back and forth between the two. Like a magnet to a fridge, his lips find the hardened bud and latches on. Switching between sucking and flicking his tongue, you squirm underneath him trying to find some sort of friction for the ache in between your legs. 

“You have no idea how many times I jerked off to the thoughts of this.” Eddie mutters as he moves his attention to the opposite nipple. 

Between his admission and the feeling of his warm mouth on your sensitive skin, you moan loudly. The feeling of more wetness pool in your panties alerts you, the overwhelming feeling of need buzzing through you. A small whine comes from you and it catches Eddie’s attention. 

Pulling away from your breast and peering up at you, he cocks his head to the side. “What’s wrong, baby? Want some cheese for that whine?” 

When his canine teeth shine through his devilish smirk, you whimper. You hate that he’s using your game from earlier against you, teasing you like he doesn’t know what you want. 

“What is it, sweets? Tell me what you want.” Fake pity drips from his question and it only eggs you on more. 

Eddie’s got you so worked up that you can’t even speak. Lifting your hips to show him what you need, you frown harder when he laughs at you. 

“Oh, princess,” He coos, running his thumb along your lower lip, “Be the good girl I know you are, and ask. Can you do that f’me?” Nodding your head, he encourages you with an assuring smile. 

“C-can you touch me, please?” Your voice sounds so small and you’d honestly cringe if it weren’t for the fact that you know you’re dripping out of the fabric of your panties onto his bed. 

Sighing heavily, Eddie gives your bottom lip a small tug with his thumb, letting the bottom row of your teeth show before it bounces back up into place. 

“I would tease you more but you asked so nicely.” Shuffling down your body, he loops his fingers through the sides and guides the thin material down your legs. 

Pushing his way through your thighs, Eddie runs the tip of his middle finger up the slit of your sex. His finger grazes lightly over your bundle of nerves, causing you to jolt from the feeling. 

“You’re really fucking wet.” Eddie says breathlessly as he parts your glistening lips apart with his fingertips. 

Not waiting for your response, Eddie circles his finger around your entrance before plunging it in slowly. The stretch from his finger makes you arch slightly, a muffled moan falling from your mouth. Using the pad of his thumb, he swirls your clit in alternating circles and figure eights. 

“More, Eds. Fuck, please!” You beg and who is Eddie to deny you. Pushing another finger inside, he curls them just right and starts going faster. 

“Fuck you’re so greedy, baby. Isn’t that right, you’re s’greedy for me, huh?” With his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat and his cheeks a pretty burgundy shade, he looks just as fucked out as you. 

Writhing underneath him, you babble nonsense as his fingers hit that spot you always struggle to. “Yes! M’so greedy - Shit!” 

“You gonna let me taste you? Gonna let me eat this pretty cunt?” You don’t even get a chance to answer, your body already doing it for you by clenching around his fingers. “Oh she likes that, huh? You like imagining me in between these pretty thighs, baby?” 

“Think ‘bout it all the time.” You moan, hips rocking against his hand as you try to chase your high. 

“Yeah, sweets? Think about me when you play with this pretty pussy?” 

That’s all it takes for you to come undone, gushing around his fingers with a muted scream. Your back arches off the bed, eyes rolled into the back of your head, as the feeling of your orgasm washes over you. 

Eddie helps you ride through it, continuing his motions until your tense muscles relax into a jelly like state. When you come back down from your high, you whimper at the loss of his fingers. Moving your eyes to him, you watch as he sticks his middle and forefinger in his mouth, moaning when the taste of you hits his taste buds. 

“Yeah, I’m definitely gonna have to eat you out.” Eddie grins at you and you roll your eyes playfully back at him. 

“That sounds absolutely wonderful, but” You begin to say and his face drops with the fear of rejection, “I’m going to need you to fuck me in the next thirty seconds.” You smirk and his jaw drops. 

After fifteen seconds of pure shock, Eddie shakes his head and tries to play it cool. 

“Yeah totally, let me just-” His sentence is cut off when he begins to struggle out of his own clothes. 

Once he’s stark naked and hovering over you, you laugh giddily up at him. Putting his forehead to you, he studies your eyes for any sort of regret or doubt. 

“Eds, I promise you I want this.” You reassure him, making sure to prove the point with a loving kiss.

With his confidence boosted, Eddie snakes his hand down to guide himself into you. When the tip breaches your entrance, the both of you gasp at the feeling.

Pushing in slowly, he brings his lips back to yours, swallowing your moans. Once he's all the way in, Eddie gives you a minute to adjust before he starts moving.

Nodding your head to let him know you're good, he pulls almost all the way out before ramming back into you, knocking the wind from your lungs.

"Fuuck, sweets. S'fuckin' tight." His voice trembles as he pounds into you.

"You're so big, I can feel you s'deep." You slur, drunk on the way his cock stretches you, hitting that sweet spot with every drag of his hips.

Eddie resituates himself, pushing your knees up to your chest, before bringing his chest back down to yours. This way you can feel him even deeper, which you didn't even think was possible.

You're on fire, belly burning bright with fire. Eddie's everywhere, he's all you can see, hear, smell, touch, think, he's invaded every single one of your senses and you can't get enough.

His eyebrows are furrowed, eyes closed with the pure bliss of being inside of you. It's so intimate yet so dirty and it's driving you insane.

Opening his eyes, he looks down at you like you've hung the stars that shine in the sky.

"I wanted this for so long, sweets. I wanted you, so Fuck-" He hangs his head, speeding up the movements of his hips. A roaring sob comes out of your mouth, the fire in you burning hotter with every drag of his thick cock.

"I'm so in love with you, sweets. Been yours since I was sixteen." Finally he confesses, letting the sacred secret out, only this time he's drunk off of you.

"I love you too! Fuck-I love you so fucking much."

"Tell me you're mine. Please, tell me." He begs and you comply, growing closer and closer to the edge.

"M'yours, been yours since I was fifteen." You confess and it feels like the weight of the world has lifted off of you.

With one last thrust, you come undone with a loud cry. Eddie doesn't let up his movements, now only focusing on his own release.

The way his hips stutter, you know that he won't last too much longer.

"I want you to cum in me, Eds. I wanna feel s'bad." You coax and that's all it takes for the metalhead to come with a stuttering grunt.

Lazily thrusting into you, he finally stops when he becomes overstimulated. The room is once again calm, the now afternoon sun blinds you as it seeps into the room. Heavy breathing and content hums fill the room, while the scent of sex lingers in the air.

Shyly removing himself from your chest, Eddie looks at you sheepishly. "Now what?"

If you didn't know Eddie you'd probably think he's being rude, but you know that he really is just overthinking everything that just happened. In his mind he thinks you're probably regretting everything, even though you told him you felt the same way.

Using your hand to pull some of the hair that sticks to his cheeks away, you smile affectionately at him.

"Well, I was thinking we could still go to Jerry's for breakfast," Eddie still looks at you like he's waiting for the ball to drop, "Then I thought you could keep your promise and eat your girlfriend out. That is, if you're not too full."

"Really?" He looks like a puppy who just heard its favorite word, excited with it's tail wagging back and forth.

Snickering up at him, you nod your head rapidly. Pulling out of you quickly, Eddie runs out of the room and you can hear the chaos of clattering from behind the door.

"Eddie, what are you doing?" More giggles fall from your lips as he races back in with a wet wash rag in his hand.

"Gotta clean you up before we go out to eat, baby. That way I can recreate our masterpiece later." He says wiggling his eyebrows.

Yeah this was the dork you fell in love with and who you were going to love for the rest of your life.

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Thank you all for reading! I'm sorry it's not the best!

[suuuupernovaaa]

nìfnu

nìfnu [nɪ.ˈfnu] adv. silently

Anonymous Request: Can I have a story where it’s Ao’nung x Metkayina Reader who’s deaf and a sweetheart. When the Sullys arrive she doesn’t really interact with them so when they see Ao’nung being kind and protective towards her it they feel confused? Just pure fluff.

Lo'ak leans over and nudges his older sister, Kiri, forcefully on the arm.

"Ouch!" she yelps. "What, Lo'ak?"

He points, and she follows the line from his finger. It leads her eyes to Ao'nung, just a few paces down the beach from them, and he's with a Metkayina girl that Kiri doesn't recognize. She's tall, nearly as tall as Ao'nung, with her long hair pulled back into one large, thick braid. She wears a thin, shiny net over her shoulders, and Kiri notes how pretty it is. It glimmers in the sun. Kiri also notes how, even though Ao'nung and this girl are above walker, they are using the hand-speak to communicate.

"That girl. Neteyam tried to talk to her earlier, but she ignored him. And there she is, being so nice to Ao'nung. Who's an asshole."

Kiri elbows her sibling. "To you, he is. He looks like he's being perfectly friendly to that girl. And, I mean, she's very pretty."

"Why are they using the hand speak? They're not in the water."

Kiri shrugs. "How should I know? Stop elbowing me when you want something, Lo'ak. It hurts."

He groans and rolls his eyes, and turns his attention back to Ao'nung and the girl who rejected Neteyam.

--

"How are they adjusting?" I sign to Ao'nung, who shrugs and rolls his eyes. It's no secret that he resents having to teach the newcomers their ways, but I think it's nice. Ao'nung needs to humble himself sometimes, be more like his kind little sister.

"They are slow," Ao'nung signs in return. "I don't want to teach them. It's a waste of my time."

I reach out, pushing on his arm a little. "They seem sweet to me, especially the little one. Try to have patience with them. I would offer to help, but they don't know how to talk to me."

"Yet," he replies, and I smile.

"Yet."

--

Neteyam asks Tsireya about the girl, Y/N, the next day. He's noticed that she only uses hand-speak as well, and wonders.

"She can't hear," Tsireya says. "She's only spoken that way her whole life."

Neteyam could smack himself. He'd taken her silence as harsh rejection, when really, she just wasn't able to respond to him.

"Oh!" he exclaims. "She's, uh, really beautiful."

Tsireya laughs and smiles. "She is, but I wouldn't trouble yourself. Ao'nung has been in love with her for years." She throws a glance to her brother over her shoulder, but he's too busy making fun of Lo'ak to hear.

"Ao'nung?" Neteyam replies hardly, and Tsireya laughs even harder.

"I know. He has a soft spot for her, and her for him. If you want to compete, you'll have to learn hand-speak."

Neteyam shakes his head. She's beautiful, but not worth getting in a fight with the chief's son over. He'll just have to admire her from afar.

--

Though I can't speak, I am very proficient in reading lips. This helps me observe conversations from far away; as long as I have a clear view of someone's face, I can usually figure out what they're saying.

"Ao'nung has been in love with her for years."

That's what Tsireya said, and though she was smiling, it didn't seem as if she was joking. I dropped the plate of fruit I was carrying when she said it.

Is it true? Has Ao'nung been in love with me, and I haven't noticed?

Fruit is scattered all around my feet, and I bend over to begin gathering it again, every interaction I've had with Ao'nung recently playing over in my mind. If Tsireya is right, maybe I have been blind.

Ao'nung has always been kind, and patient and gentle with me. I knew he wasn't like that with many people, but I thought it was most likely out of pity for my condition - not out of love of affection.

A hand reaches out, picking up fruit and dropping it into my basket, and I look up to see Ao'nung himself.

Feeling flustered, I stand up, kicking the fruit basket once again, undoing all my work.

"Are you okay?" Ao'nung signs. I tuck my hair behind my ears, feeling a little speechless. "Y/N, what's wrong?"

"Tsireya," I sign, "she told the new boy, the oldest one, that you are in love with me. Is she just teasing him, because he thinks I'm pretty?"

"He said he thinks you're pretty?" Ao'nung signs back, quickly and furiously, glancing over his shoulder at where his sister still sits with the newcomers.

I shove his shoulder. "Yes! Answer my question."

"Well... come with me." Ao'nung reaches out, grabbing my hand and therefore silencing me, and pulls me away from the beach. We move through many huts, past the fires, and to the edge of the beach, where the sparse forest and rocks begin. Here, we are alone.

"Ao'nung!" I exclaim, breathless. "What's going on?"

He rubs his forehead. "I had a plan, to tell you. It wasn't going to be like this. I'm going to kill Tsireya."

I stand, silent, waiting for him to finish. My heart is beating out of my chest, and my palms are shaking; I'm not sure I could speak, even if I wanted to.

"For a long time, I have loved you, Y/N. I have tried to be more... understanding, and gentle, the way you deserve. But it's hard for me. I wanted to be better, before I told you. Before I asked you to be my mate."

Unable to control myself, I gasp, and bring my hands up to my mouth.

Me, the mate to the next Olo'eyktan? It's unimaginable.

"Your parents approve the match?" I ask.

Ao'nung smiles at me softly. "Of course. When I told them how much I love you, they couldn't object. They believe you will make a wonderful Tsahik, because you are so kind and understanding. My mother will teach you everything you need to know - if you want."

That thought alone is a little overwhelming, since Ronal can be so intimidating, but I also imagine she can be a good teacher.

And really, that doesn't matter. What matters is the way I feel when I'm with Ao'nung; special, adored, loved, doted upon. I feel safe with Ao'nung. I feel seen and most importantly, heard.

"I would be proud to be your mate, Ao'nung. So proud. Of course, I love you."

The smile that spreads across his face transforms Ao'nung from the sullen, anxious, grouchy man most have come to know him as. It turns him into the carefree, light and happy man he is when the two of us are together.

I am proud to make him smile like that. I promise myself then, to make him smile like that every day, for the rest of our lives.

[court-jobi]

Hi, is there any Headcanon of a Married relationship between Izuku Midoriya and the reader? Could you write based on the Canon? Although the Reader, besides being a heroine (Izuku the teacher), is a model for clothing brands, cosmetics, etc! like any celebrity.

The reader is female!

ooooo~ how fun, anon! Let's see what I got... first headcanon request, here we go!!

A/N: I've gotten several fun asks recently, and am moving those larger works to the top of my WIPs as time allows. This is so fun, and you all suggesting prompts like these make it a joy!

For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Pairing: Izuku Midoriya x Fem!reader (SFW)

MARRIED HEADCANONS!

Married!Izuku who -even though you're coming up on your third wedding anniversary- still crams love notes on index cards into your e-reader before he leaves for the day. You have it plugged into the side table of the living room and will pick it up as soon as you come home from work to wind down; so even though he will have a later arrival home than you, you'll hardly feel alone with Izuku's words of affirmation pouring out their surprise greeting.

Izuku writes in the middle of the night when he wakes before you- whether by an overactive mind or a nightmare he'd sooner forget. Rather than disturb your much needed rest, will channel reflective thoughts towards you onto paper- and sneaks their secrets around the house where you'll least expect them. Just when you think you know all his hiding spots, he picks a new one to surprise you. Once satisfied with his "journaling" tactic, he'll scoop you back up against him and settle into sleep.

Married!Izuku who chooses a travel tumbler for you every morning and fills it every time it's empty. Car ride ahead? It's crafted with your homebrewed coffee to keep you awake. Got a photoshoot ahead? Water it is, keeping his love hydrated. You are his beloved beverage goblin and though he finds your car to be a tervis graveyard, what's one more dish to wash if it makes you happy?

This man, who will hiss when your hands are too cold against his, getting ramped up far too easily when it comes to worrying over your health... meanwhile Izuku toughs through the worst of allergies himself with a hundred sniffles (and an aversion to cough medicine.) It's one of the first big arguments you had as a couple: you forcing him to take better care of himself when his self-preservation streak peeks through and nearly wears him into the ground during grad school. He'll start to defend himself, only to be caught by flashbacks to the last time he tried managing things on his own, and rightfully apologize. You are a team, and Izuku tries his hardest to let you step in and give him the same care and caution he gives you. It's a hard lesson, managing pride when it comes to taking care of someone so selflessly, and Izuku is still unused to this treatment when turned to himself. You're doing your best, armed with a world of grace to set him straight.~

Married!Izuku who is a phenomenal teacher. One of the most patient souls you've ever met, which is a large draw that led you to date him! You're encouraged to stretch your ways of thinking, listening to his alternative points of view... and find yourself marveling that a man who's so closely engrossed with training the next generation of heroes is still so happy to watch the news at the end of the day in hopes of learning more!

You've gifted him a notetaking tablet that's meant to replace his waning supply of favorite notebooks, but if you find that blue Campus brand in a shop that's selling your brand deals somewhere, you are absolutely picking it up for him. He cries every time you make him close his eyes and hold out his hands, producing your surprise in giddy silence. "They don't make this edition anymore!! H-HONEY!!"

^^^After a day of sparring with his students -giving them a run for their money- you'll be the one patching him up out of sight of Recovery Girl, everything from a lightly busted lip to each blooming bruise he's gonna feel in the morning. You're surprised he's getting hit as much as he is when he's still renowned as one of the heartiest teachers at UA- quirk or not, he is no lightweight. You may worry over him just as much, but with your honorary brother-in-law 'Kacchan' running drills on him on the weekends, you know Izuku is in tip-top shape. No one is invincible, after all.

Will gladly talk to your mom on the phone~ welcomes it, actually! Izuku wants to learn every little tidbit and creature comfort he can about you, so any nerves he had about meeting your family when you began dating dissolved once he kept that goal in mind. (This mentality won your father over well, to a comical degree once Izuku showed him the notes folder on his phone with your die-hard favorite secret pleasures only a loved one would know...) Allmight makes his trip to your dinner table every other week or so, becoming a ready and available father figure to you while yours lives hours away. It does your heart a world of good sitting in his nurturing company.

Married!Izuku will carry your luggage to and from the airport without a single grunt or complaint (That's what he continues to work out for, even as a teacher!) A few tears upon departure and arrival, sure, but will always ground himself steady in his pride over the hard work you're putting in. He's the one who calls to wish you a goodnight when you're on location for hero support, and a sends a text for every morning and lunch break. Regardless of timezone, he's going to make sure you are part of his routine like nothing's changed. You rely on this consistancy more than life. Living apart -even short term- is expected at this stage of your career where you're needed more than ever to help fund your hero ventures through sponsorships... but Izuku will forever be your biggest supporter.

///Little does he know, you are cramming in twice as many roles to help fund a certain someone's hero suit development, per Bakugou's discretion. It's the one, solitary lie of omission you keep from your husband, but one you trust is going to be worth it in the end to see him shine where he wants to once again. He'll always be your hero, but you'll help him see that realized self any way you can.///

Married!Izuku will be flooding the groupchat with every single advertisement that features your face. Every last one. And there are many. The girls will share you on each of their socials in support of whatever you are sporting, while the boys will... look respectfully and congratulate Izuku on his absolute knockout of a girl. Izuku is just insanely proud of his wife and will make it everyone's problem~

He may be operating on a teacher's salary, but is the most thoughtful gift-giver. Married!Izuku will choose experiences over 'things' when it comes to you, like vacationing to the largest library in the world where you can spend hours holed up on a loveseat somewhere, taking notes on all the old tomes you find, using those classic academia desks as if you were still at the 'study abroad' college where you met... Trip planning gives you both something to look forward to amidst your busy schedules, and takes the financial pressure off you both as well. Not that he won't still treat you to just about anything you ask for when you're giving him that sweet, small 'please' standing in the checkout line at the corner store...

Married!Izuku, who misses you adorably when you're not home. He runs a fairly typical working schedule that lines up with yours for the most part-- makes him the happiest, coming home to you! You adhere to a few sacred rules in your shared home: you always go to bed together, you can occasionally go to bed angry- but always remain in each other's corners, and you know giving him head scritches is the easiest way to make Izuku pliant enough to sleep. He'll nurse your migraines that aren't so pretty, you'll give his hands massages when the phantom pains make them ache. Whatever you can do to give your man some ease into his life, you give wholeheartedly.

You'll kiss Izuku's every trouble away; and the ones that linger, you'll tend to as gently as you can until you can replace the thoughts with something sweeter, kinder, delicately on his still-healing heart when the embers remind him of old hurts you weren't around to see. You care for Deku just as you do your darling Izuku- as they are two sides of the same coin. You polish and affirm them both, strengthening all the parts that have made your life partner the man he is today. That made him him.

Married!Izuku: your darling husband with eyes that light up when you enter a room, mist up when they see you down, and stare eternally grateful on you as you listen and take in every word he has to give and through every promise shared-- just like your vows.

[revelboo]

Hii! You don't have to respond if you don't want to, I just wanted to say that I've just recently found your blog and I love it! The writing style is amazing, and I adore your stories 💕

I'm really a fan of your Armada Starscream and Seeker trine stories, and can't wait for their updates! Do you plan on working on them soon?

(I'm not sure if you have a posting schedule, and I don't really want to annoy, so sorry (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠))

Nah, you’re fine. I need to update both probably. I don’t really have an update schedule, I just have 20 or so drafts at any given time at this point that I poke at in my down time.

Even If It Kills Me Pt 7

Armada Starscream x Reader

• Lying flat on his back on his berth and staring at the ceiling, he tries to figure out what had gone wrong. Possibly it was deciding to carry you with him and to let you sleep on his chassis since you’re always shivering. It was a practical decision and that’s all. You were cold. At some point Runway had left his berth and crawled up on him too, though, waking him. He hadn’t had the spark to shoo the mini-con away. Maybe that was where he’d made his mistake. Because now there’s a human sprawled on him, face and an arm across his neck mesh. Runway’s head on the small of your back. Sonar somehow ended up draped across his helm, a ped dangling against his cheek. And Jetstorm is lying on Runway’s legs. All four of them using him as their nest. And strangely, he can’t even be mad about it, because it’s oddly warm. Almost a feeling of belonging he’s not felt in a long time.

• Warm, you stretch and something against your back warbles and throws an arm across you. One of your adult ‘kids.’ Because even though they have their own berths, somehow you wake up tangled in a pile of mini-cons hogging your blankets every morning. Figure it’s that you’re their size so they’ve adopted you as one of them. Fingers brushing against something warm, you open your eyes. Head tipping back as it takes you a minute to realize you’re staring at Starscream’s chin. That you’re sprawled on him along with the mini-cons. Sitting up Runway chirps a protest, trying to drag you back down.

• “Hey,” you greet him. Little face reddening, he watches you lay a hand on Runway’s head. “You make a pretty good bed,” you add. Is that supposed to be a compliment? He has no idea how to respond. Isn’t about to say that he’d liked the feel of all four of you curled against him. That he likes having you and the mini-cons about instead of being alone with his thoughts. That he’d recharged better with the beat of your heart to focus on. No, he can’t say any of that. Ever. Venting roughly as you slide off of him and the min-cons follow to trail after you with unhappy chirps. Not at all surprised when Runway grabs the back of your shirt before you get too close to the edge of the berth. Sitting up, he picks you up and sets you down on the floor, and patiently also moves the mini-cons down one by one even though he knows they can get down on their own. But they like the attention, actually reaching to be picked up like sparklings. Because you’re ruining them fussing over them all the time even if he can’t make himself out a stop to it.

• Stretching, you turn to find Starscream watching you with a frown. Like you’re a puzzle he can’t figure out and it bothers him. “You were cold. That’s all,” he mutters, sitting back and looking away. You were cold and he’d noticed and down something about it when he didn’t have to. There’s no figuring out what’s going on in his head. The only thing you’re sure of is how uncomfortable he is in dealing with you. Unable to tell if he doesn’t care for humans or if he’s just that awkward and gruff all the time.

• “Thanks for putting up with me.” Wings flicking, he vents at you. Always thanking him for doing necessary things, like you think you’re a burden. He doesn’t really understand it any more than when you insist on treating the mini-cons like sparklings. Like your sparklings even though he’s told you that they’re adults. And they’re not exactly helping, seeming to love the attention. Standing, he tries to ignore the warmth in his spark as you smile at him. Knows he’ll let you sleep on him again. You and the mini-cons. Because you’re all his to protect and care for and it’s a new fragile, feeling. Like home.

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[studiogrimm810]

Good Enough

pairings/characters: sam winchester x afab!you, dean is barely there

summary: part 2 of Too Good For You, sam finally allows himself love you and you let him

warnings: MDNI!!! sexual content, +18 only, pwp if you read pt 1

word count: 2,569

A/N: this is the first smut i've ever written so any critiques are greatly appreciated!!

———————

The relationship you have with Sam Winchester has always been unique. He was different from anyone you’ve ever met before- tortured with a past of pain and heartache so twisted and ugly that it shaped him into the sweet, patient, complex man that you see before you now.

You always knew he had his issues and doubts about himself. In fact, his low level of self-confidence was something you had tried to work on subtly from the day you met him, but right now confidence was not his lack.

The way his hands rested on your waist, practically pinning you into the mattress, was not at all what you had expected from him. His hold wasn’t necessarily lust or desire- it was simply need.

Deep-rooted, primal need.

Sam’s broad frame hovered over your body, sandwiching you between him and the bed. His hand splayed around to the back of your neck, his thumb tucked right behind your ear to get the perfect grip on you. Your own hands rub up his chest and grip the collar of his white button-up, anchoring him close to you.

His lips are quick and hungry, locking onto yours and taking everything he can get. You could practically feel the buzz of his internal battles and self-torment melt between your lips, dissolving into a sweet slick fueling your kiss.

His fingers curl into your neck, practically hooking him to you. A wave of goosebumps radiate from his nails tickling your neck and you instinctively buck your chin up to him a tad. He smiles into the kiss, already loving the effect he has on you.

The hand that’s pinning your waist to the bed slowly creeps up the span of your side and along your clothed bra. He lightly bends his fingertips to drag back down your side, caressing your frame as his lips continue to devour away your lipgloss.

Your arms reach up, wrapping around his neck and you pull yourself up to him. The motion lifts your back off of the bed and you’re flush with him again. Sam’s hand snakes around your waist to pull you closer and the other leaves your neck to support your weight on the bed.

He lowers you back onto the bed and you can feel him fully press himself into your hip. You raise your thigh further into him to give him a jolt of fresh relief. A groan crumbles out of his mouth and you feel his hold on you weaken in response.

You start to pick at the buttons on his shirt, waiting for the go-ahead but he pulls away just enough to speak but your noses still bump and lips brush against each other.

“Are you sure?” He rasps out, choked on the tension between you. Your lips tingle from the residual effect from his teeth.

“Fuck- yes, I’m sure,” you nod drunkenly, wanting to tease him for even still being such a gentleman when his hands give way of nothing but. A warm groan rattles his chest at your egar response. He’s back on your lips like they're fused, letting you undo his buttons and run your fingertips lightly down his chest.

God, you craved his taste, you swear nothing was ever so sweet.

The feel of his chest radiating on you like a furnace made you feel more flushed and heated, his dense muscle a beautiful and stark contrast of the pathetic noises you’re already pulling out of him.

Once his shirt is completely off, his hand grabs your chin and pushes you back just enough to expose your neck to him fully. He kisses along your jawline and up to your ear, taking the lobe in between teeth which makes you shiver but his firm grip on your chin makes it near impossible to recoil away which only raises the heat pooling in your stomach.

His sweet mouth trails down to your neck and along your collarbone. His fingers toy with the hem of your shirt and you can tell that he’s peppering in as many kisses as he can before breaking the connection long enough just to rip off your top.

Deciding he needs a little help, you run your hand up the back of his neck and tug at a fist full of hair and he moans softly in response. Sam takes that moment to strip your shirt off then quickly latches his lips back to your skin. You bite your lip to hold back a giggle due to the tickle of his breath.

He pulls you up softly to unclasp your bra which he has no hesitation with, practically ripping it off of you and discarding it without another thought.

The cold air nips at the peaks of your tits and mixed with the chill of Sam’s touch, they become just about as hard as you reckon Sam’s cock is in his jeans.

He’s quick to cup your left tit while his mouth makes a trail of messy kisses down to your right. With his hand now off of your chin, you let your head rock to the other side to look down at him, completely lost in himself as his only focus is to pleasure and relax you.

The feeling of his cock pressing back on your leg brings you back to your own aching need that makes you squirm under him. You try to tug at his hair again to get his attention but he quickly takes your wrist and pins it into the mattress. He doesn’t even offer you an explanation.

What Sam has managed to do to you with such simple actions is beyond you- unraveling you while still half dressed.

“Fucking,” he kisses his way down your stomach, “needy,” he groans out. He lets go of your wrist and goes to unbutton your jeans.

Sam finally takes a moment to pull himself off of you to work with your jeans and he’s greeted with an image that will never, ever, leave him.

An Angel.

That’s what you are to him.

Your hair frames your face like a lion's mane and lights you up like a beacon of warmth, he can spot red splotches scattered along his invisible path of spit from how he’s claimed your body. Your cheeks match the red in a flush of heat and your eyes are half-open, lazily looking up at him as you try to keep yourself present and not get lost in squeezing your legs together for a hint of relief and tossing your head back. Your tits mold perfectly to your frame, swimming with the jerks of your body as you writhe for him.

He swallows thickly and takes off your jeans and panties, tugging them gently but eagerly off of your limbs. He starts at his own button and zipper but he can’t get his slacks all the way off before the craving for you overcomes him. He climbs back over you and takes your lips as his again, fondling your tits and nibbling at your lip, pulling all sorts of sounds out of you.

Sam manages to kick off his pants and now the only thing in between you two are his boxers. He presses himself into you, positioning his hips to keep your legs spread and hips pinned so you couldn’t squirm away or buck up to get friction unless he lets himself get close enough.

You whine, trying every which way to get your body completely flush with his again but he arched his back just enough to lightly graze against you as he invaded your mouth. A few sweet kisses hook you back to his taste before he pulls away again and dives down to your neck.

“You’re intoxicating, honey,” he mumbled into your ear, his breath warming your neck as he spoke. You can’t get words out, you can’t even think of a sentence to form, all you want is to just feel him. Your aching cunt just barely grazing against his clothed dick.

“Sam-” you whine again and he presses himself fully against your heat, earning a lewd, shocked gasp to scrape out of your mouth.

“You make such pretty noises, angel,” he praises, his hands running along your waist, tickling your stomach lightly. “You have no idea,” kisses, “what you,” kisses, “do to me.”

You smiled lazily, letting your head loll back a bit, relishing in how he makes you feel like royalty.

The light touches of his hand fully grip your hip and settle you back into the mattress as he makes his way back down to your heated center. He keeps your legs spread as he takes in the sight of your bush, your lips framed with beautiful small curls that match your roots. The edges shimmer with your own wetness and he admires it as a compliment.

He slips his hand down, immersing his finger down the middle as he lets your wet skin warm his hand. He cups your cunt, letting the ball of his hand press firmly onto the top of your lips, right over your clit. You grind your hips against the pressure and he meets your pace. He dips his finger in just at your entrance, circling the shallow ring softly. You let your eyes melt shut, losing yourself under his touch and moaning out soft noises that make Sam's cock twitch.

You don’t notice that his boxers have disappeared just like your bra- gone and forgotten- until he’s reaching to his duffle to search for something. You press your hands back against his warm chest, pulling his attention back to you.

“Sam- I wanna feel you,” you dig your nails into his chest, “I’m on the pill,” you reassure with a small nod. It doesn’t take much for him to put his other hand back on you, squeezing your thigh as his fingers still work with the mess between your legs.

“Like I said- needy,” he teases with a lazy smile. His confidence irks you just enough to make you scowl softly up at him, you don’t know how it happened but he seemed to take control of the situation. His desperation for you overpowered his thoughts and turned him into a completely different person- a man starved.

Sam eases his finger all the way in, not wanting to miss out on feeling you inside and out as much as possible. Your textured walls feel like heaven against his calloused finger, sweet and soft. He lets go of your thigh and uses his hand to pump his cock, lining up his light strokes with the way his finger swirls your cervix.

He removes his finger and grabs your hips, dragging you to the end of the bed, lining himself up. He looks down at you, tucking away another picture in his memory.

He slowly pushes in, instantly stretching you out and your head slacks into the bed with your eyes screwed shut, focusing solely on the pressure of him. He manages to fit half of his cock past your entrance and pulls back out slowly before plunging in most of his length. You moan out- loud. Your hand goes to cover your mouth but he’s quick to snatch up your wrist again to pin it above your head. His other hand is gripped firmly on your waist, guiding your hips where he wants them.

“Look at me, angel,” he beckons and you listen, opening your eyes just enough to see him towered over you, pinning you down. The warm light from the motel fixtures frame around him like a halo- encompassing such beauty and perfection.

Sam is perfect to you.

As your eyes lock, he begins to rock in and out of you, slow at first to watch you silently beg for more but quick once he realizes he’s just as pitifully impatient.

It doesn’t take him long to hit your sweet spot, knocking into it over and over and over. The width of his dick stretching you out is quite the sight to see and something that, yet again, Sam will never forget- just like melodic moans you release or the whimpers and gasps that dust past your lips and bless his ears.

“Fuck, honey,” he grunts, his nails digging into your hip. He leans down to lock lips with yours again but his thrusts are so needy that it’s hard to keep his mouth on yours. He halts his hips, burying deep inside you so he can kiss you properly, taking his hold off of your wrist and grabbing the back of your neck again, tasting you all over again.

He slowly starts to rock his hips back into you, this time steady enough to keep you right where he needs you. As his pace picks up, you start to moan into the kiss, filling his senses with your taste, smell, feel- everything.

He continues to cradle the back of your head, his kisses getting sloppy as his pace picks up- so goddamn needy.

Your arms wrap around him, digging your nails into his back as he continues to pound into your cunt.

“God, Sam-!” His name rips through your throat as you feel the heat in your stomach build and build until you’ve peaked. Your legs wrap around him, forcing him close as you ride your high. Your walls clenching around him as warm pools between you is enough to make him weak and he buries himself deep into you as he fills you up. He moans out your name, his face pressed into your neck and biting lightly at your skin as he climaxes.

His hips are slow as he starts to pull out and push back in, doing so to ease both of your sensitivities and to milk him dry. His movements help the throbbing aftershock of your orgasm settle into a slight tingle of overstimulation.

He plops into the spot on the bed next to you, pulling you into his arms and brushing your hair out of your face.

You turn your head to look over at him, dazed and smiling. His smile is soft and fond, his eyes almost crossed with how entranced with you he is.

You go to open your mouth and speak but you hear keys in the motel door and- shit. Both of you forgot that Dean ran out to get take out.

“Fuck!” You whisper yell, hurriedly getting under the blankets and Sam helps you, also trying to cover up with the blankets.

The motel door clicks open.

“I’ve got the-” Dean's voice starts but halts. You managed to make it all the way under but you can see from Sam’s reaction that he’s staring right at Dean. “Dude, I wasn’t even gone that long,” Dean scoffs, setting down the items in his hands. “Let me guess who’s under there with ya-” you can hear the playful smirk in his voice.

“Dean- just give us a minute,” Sam sighs sheepishly, his lips pressed.

“Sure thing,” Dean chuckles and closes the door back. Sam slumps into the mattress with a groan, covering his eyes with his hand. His lips curl up into a chuckle and you start to laugh too, completely mortified but too satisfied to really focus on the shame.

“I’ll have to get us our own room, honey,” Sam kisses the top of your head, wrapping his arms around you.

“I’ll hold you to that.”

———————

thank you so much for reading!! <3

>pictures are not my own, i have the originals linked here (pinterest) >>check out my other works here

[shuacore]

svt & subspace (m)

1.4k a/n: again... idk where this came from.. just something i've been thinking abt the past couple days yippee!! (NSFW)

seungcheol — the first time you hit true subspace it turns him on to no end. loooves knowing he can make you feel so good your mind goes blank (he'll never let you forget it). you turn even more pliant, willing to do anything he wants you to do. he makes sure you know your safe word before anything else, sometimes repeating the question over and over until he gets a clear answer. despite how much he might want it, seungcheol will usually stop you from doing things just to please him, knowing your altered state might be urging you to do things you can’t fully consent to. seungcheol thinks subspace is hot, but only if you’re present enough to stop anything you don’t want to do. 

jeonghan — like seungcheol, jeonghan loves seeing you slip into subspace, loves seeing how you turn to putty in his hands, how willing you become to please him. with how eager and cocky jeonghan is, it’s not unusual for you to float away during sex right before an orgasm or after an intense one. unlike seungcheol, however, if you want him to face fuck you while you’re in subspace who is he to say no? will make sure you have a clear safe word/gesture, and will ask you to repeat it to him a few times before you start. always asks you a few times if you’re sure. it’s not the most productive when he has to drag answers out of you, but the last thing he wants to do is hurt his angel when you’re so ready to please him.

joshua — joshua cares about you so much and wants you to know that he’ll always be there to take care of you. he lets you know he’s there by slipping his hand into yours, grounding you. physical touch is a big thing for him, slowly bringing you back down to your body when you’re ready. joshua is so in tune with you and your body he knows exactly where to touch you and what to say to keep the good feelings going. subspace usually happens for you right before you come, and—like clockwork—as soon as he reminds you how much he loves you it sends you right over the edge where joshua is ready to catch you. 

jun — you’ve talked about it being a thing, but jun never thought he would actually get see it happen. the first time it happens, he sees the moment you feel pleasure so intense you lose the ability to speak. he never thought he’d be that good and he’s both a little surprised and also soooo turned on by the way you go limp, eyes almost rolled back in your head as haze overtakes you. the first time it happens, jun’s a little too eager and yanks you out of it a little too fast, leaving you a little disoriented. he feels really bad about it after, but jun is a quick learner and picks up on what you like and how to make the experience as enjoyable as possible for the both of you.

wonwoo — wonwoo’s thing is degradation, and after a particularly rough session of degradation and humiliation it sends you right over the edge into a floaty headspace. you don’t even have to come to get there. he’ll usually keep teasing you, dragging out your dumb state for as long as possible. he knows, however, that he can get intense during scenes so when you eventually come down he’s careful to give you lots of loving and praises for taking it so well. wonwoo loves to be mean, but he also loves you and wants you to know that none of what he says is true.

woozi — jihoon is split half and half. finds it hot, also not always the most patient. he loves to rile you up, watch you lean into it and inflate his ego. he loves making you feel good, but he also wants to good. when you linger in subspace for a long time he gets a little impatient and tries to bring you down before you're ready. he doesn't do it to be rude or mean, he just wants to keep loving on you. things to do (you) and places to be (work)!

hoshi — soonyoung loves to be the best at everything. whether that’s performing on stage or in the bedroom, he needs to know that he’s on top. (literally.) he loves to be mean and see you fold under his silver tongue—he loves to go back and forth between sickly praise and cold degradation and see you writhe and beg under him. seeing you sink into subspace goes straight to his dick and his ego. will always praise you after, letting you know he enjoyed it and wants to make sure you enjoyed it, too. you find it sexy how much soonyoung cares, which makes it that much easier for you to trust him so wholly.

minghao — minghao is all about trust, and he finds it sexy that you trust him enough to let him be with you when you slip into subspace. minghao isn’t a gentle lover, per se, but he is intense and prioritizes intimacy above all else. he knows it’s a delicate and deeply personal state to be in around someone else and will never make you do anything transactional. if he’s feeling extra mean, however, he’ll make fun of you for being so compliant...which usually goes straight to your core, leading to another round.

mingyu — mingyu is torn between finding it the hottest thing ever and trying not to panic (just a little) when you go nonverbal. on one hand yeah, he fucked your brains out and turned you ultra-dumb but on the other hey, are you okay baby? can you say something please? mingyu is sometimes too good with his cock for his own good that he’s always a little surprised when you enjoy it that much. he also secretly enjoys how needy it makes you and how you cling to him and love all up on him after a vigorous round.

dokyeom — short answer: freaks out. the likelihood of slipping into full subspace with a man who hates the idea of people being mad at him is… low. but once seokmin tried being meaner than usual with his words and his cock and it turned you on so much that after your fourth orgasm in a row you go nonverbal. seokmin stresses, petting your hair, asking you to breathe for him, to say something, “are you okay?? hey, what’s happening?” until you slowly come back to earth (after the fact you tease him a little for wigging out so much, but secretly you’re touched he cares just that much.) safe to say, the two of you don’t take it that far very often. 

seungkwan — seungkwan seems the type to be more gentle and doesn’t really like being mean to you, so it seems like it’d be rare. but maybe, like seokmin, he switches it up every now and then and the change in pace is so hot to you that you become more sensitive to his touch and his words. it leaves you feeling a little lightheaded, making it easier for you to slip into subspace. the first time it happens, seungkwan is a little stressed but lets you stay in it as long as you need to. when you come down he wants to talk about your triggers so he can be more prepared to keep you feeling as good as possible.

vernon — ever the silent support, vernon will stay with you the whole time, maybe petting your cheek or rubbing circles into your hips with his thumbs until you float back down to earth. he thinks it’s hot he can make you feel that good, but doesn’t ever want to yank you out of it, so he lets you feel what you need to for as long as possible. sometimes if it’s been a while, vernon will press a few kisses to your cheek and ask if you’re doing good. if you don’t respond he’ll leave you be, reminding you every once in a while he’s still here with you. once you come down he’s there with a few quiet praises and reminders how much he loves you. 

dino — likes knowing he can send you there. (a lot.) his favorite method is a combo of taunting and edging and watching you get completely lost in pleasure when he finally lets you come. chan looooves seeing you go all dumb, words jumbled as you tell him how good he makes you feel. unless you explicitly say it’s okay before a session, he’s not super keen on forcing you to do anything when you’re not entirely present in your head. the only thing chan loves more than making you feel amazing is taking care of you after, supplying you with plenty of attention and love to keep you warm.

--

come yell at me! tell me your fantasies and your fears!

other stuuuuff :P

[imfinereallyy]

Bedside Manner

for @acasualcrossfade request for "the infection has spread"

"Some birdie told me that you have been causing a fuss, Wayne, is that true?"

Wayne huffs from his hospital bed, glasses sliding down his nose. He places the newspaper he was reading on the table beside him. "You tell that Robbie of yours to stop exaggerating. It was only a small request."

Steve raises his eyebrows at his favorite patient (Dustin tells him he isn't supposed to have favorites, but he also used to cry anytime he picked up Max before him when they were younger, so what does he know) and gives him a knowing look. "Robin listens to no man, Wayne, you know this. You're better off sending that message through her wife. Besides, small? She was telling me you refused to have any other nurse help you because I wasn't here last night. Which surprised me since you are always pushing me on about taking a vacation. "

Wayne opens his mouth, but Steve presses on. "And the fact Robin was even in the room means they called a psych consult, so I can only imagine how bad it was."

Wayne grumbles like a little kid being scolded for getting his hands caught in the cookie jar. "Yea, well, it was a bad night, kid."

Steve feels his shoulders sag, he takes off his glasses and rubs a hand down his face before placing them back on. "Sorry, Wayne, I had a bad migraine last night. Nance and Robs wouldn't even let me pass the entrance. Bad news?"

"Kid, don't stress yourself out over me. I'm just your patient, and more so, I am just a cranky old man." Wayne patted Steve's knee as he sat down next to him.

"C'mon, Wayne. You're more than that. I'd like to think seeing you in and out of here the last year has made us friends. Although I gotta say, you're the only friend I have that I'll be glad if I don't get to see again, given the circumstances. So, what's the news?"

"The infection has spread."

Steve takes in a deep breath, he tries not to panic, but any infection in a hospital can be deadly, especially for a cancer patient like Wayne. "Incision site?"

Steve must not be as good at hiding his emotions as he used to be because Wayne jumps to ease his worry. "No, kid, don't worry. The surgery was a success. Just got that hospital fever, the good old bronchitis. But it just means I'm here longer than I have to. It also means my nephew is on edge, and I don't know if I can take a second longer of his hovering."

Steve laughed wetly, thankful for the topic change. "Ah yes, the mysterious nephew of yours that I've never met. The way you talk about him almost tempts me into switching to the day shift, sounds like he might be entertaining. But only almost."

"Always wondered why you were always working the nights, most of the others seem to switch. Not a big fan of the day?"

Steve shakes his head gently, "No, I like the quiet here at night. Like getting to know the patients without having to worry about fixing ten million things. Don't get me wrong, it has its downfalls. Like the doctors can be horrible at night, never tell Dr. Wheeler that or Robbie will kill me, and the food is awful. But there is something special about it here at night. So sorry, your ridiculous nephew isn't enough to tempt me."

Wayne smirked, "What if I told you he was a looker and single?"

Steve blushes slightly. He is used to patients trying to pawn him off to their relatives, it came with being a young male nurse, but typically it didn't phase him. But Steve has become close with Wayne, so hearing him suggest he get together with his nephew has him flustered. "I'm good, Wayne, thanks. Gave up on the dating scene a while ago. Not many people can keep up with a guy who works nights and suffers from severe head trauma."

"Shame, Eddie likes the nights too. I'd reckon yal would get along."

"I'm pretty sure we would need more than that, Wayne."

Wayne smiles fondly at Steve. "You don't need a whole lot to build a connection, son. Me and Linda, god rest her soul, only started dating for our mutual love of mugs. And we may not have had long together, but our love was strong. Besides, there is more yal would have in common than just the night shift."

Steve huffs a laugh, "Oh yea, like what?" The least he can do is humor the man.

"Well, you both care about me deeply."

Steve blushes again, "C'mon, Wayne. I'm your nurse. I'm kinda paid to care."

Wayne won't hear any of it, "No, son, it's more than that. You take your break in here every night. You make sure to record the game at home for me because they only have the news here. And last night, you tried to come in with a migraine, even though we both know I am the only patient you can stand right now."

Steve doesn't know what to say back. Wayne is right, of course. Steve has been spending all of his time with the man, giving him extra care. Steve isn't bad with his other patients, he goes above and beyond most of his coworkers, but there is something special about Wayne.

"You got nothing, kid, you know I'm right. Remind me a lot of my nephew. Before visiting hours ended is when I got the news of having to stay longer. Kid almost threw a fit when they kicked him out. Swore he was gonna break in to stay the night with me. I told him not to worry since you would be there, I brag about you too, ya know. When he found out today you weren't here, that boy threw a fit again. Swear he gets his tantrums from his father. Said he was gonna sneak back in tonight. Make sure I had company. That 'the man' couldn't stop him. That if he ran into you, he was gonna have a word with you."

Steve can't help the snort that shakes his body, "I'd like to see him get passed Hop first."

Wayne starts to chuckle, too, "Eds may have had his fair share of escaping the law, but no man moves as fast as Jim in a security uniform."

Steve is fully laughing now, "I know, right? It's like those pants make him aerodynamic or something. No way your nephew is getting by."

It is almost as if Steve's words summon what happens next. There in the doorway is the most gorgeous man he's ever seen, even though he is bent over and out of breath.

"Eds?" Wayne questions, clearly surprised. Steve has to mask his face and quickly before Wayne catches him ogling his nephew. Steve is finding it difficult, though. The man, Eddie, despite his out-of-breath appearance, is stunning. His long curly hair is thrown up in a bun, showing off the piercings up his ears. His clothes are simple but suiting, ripped jeans and a black band tee. Tattoos cover his entire body, and Steve wants to ask about every single one of them.

The most surprising thing about him isn't that he got by Hop (although he has questions for that later), no the most surprising thing to Steve is that Wayne somehow knew his exact type, which most people assume wrong in that department.

Eddie awakens an old craving inside Steve that he thought he had buried long ago.

"Wayne, you would not believe what I just went to get up here. The story I have for you, oh boy. You're gonna love it. Who knew security guards could move that fast. Anyway, I hope that nurse boy of yours is here tonight because I am ready to—" Eddie stops mid-rant when his eyes land on Steve, a lovely blush blossoming across his pale cheeks.

"I believe what you are trying to say is, what was it, Wayne? Oh yea, 'have a word with me,'" Steve laughs softly.

Eddie sputters, "Wayne!?!" His blushing becomes deeper as the seconds pass by.

Wayne just chuckles as Steve stands. "Don't be mad at your Uncle, I think he was just trying to make me feel better. I am sorry I wasn't here last night for the news. Got my head knocked around too much as a kid—" Steve taps his head with his knuckles, "—so I suffer from migraines sometimes. I really did try to come in, but well—you met Jim. He's pretty fast." Steve worries his lip. Eddie's eyes follow.

"Well, I can't be too mad now, can I?" Eddie swallows nervously before a smirk spreads across his face, switching from shy to confident in two seconds flat. Steve shouldn't be turned on by that. "The pretty face helps too. I'm pretty sure you could convince me to give you my kidney right about now. I'm Eddie, which I know you know by now, and you are...?"

Steve puts his hand out for a shake, "Nurse Harrington. But most people call me Steve."

Eddie grabs his hand gently and brings the back of it to his lips. "Stevie, a pleasure, really." A light kiss is placed on Steve's knuckles. Stevie, he thinks. That's a new one. And he isn't mad about it, at all. In fact, the butterflies in his stomach want him to get Eddie to say it again.

Steve catches Wayne's smug face in the corner of his eye as Steve begins to blush again.

"I'm just gonna—I'll be right back." Steve stutters.

"Leaving so soon?" Eddie says disappointed.

Steve has the sudden urge to fix the frown on his face. "No, no! Just, uh, gonna call Jim and tell him not to send out a search party. That it's okay if you stay. I'll keep an eye on you."

Eddie's face breaks out into a brilliant smile, "Really, Stevie? You gonna keep me around?"

Steve's heart skips a beat, "If I can help it."

***

[heavenlyvision]

More than friends

Word Count: 21.9k

Pairing: Johnny Cage x F!Reader

Read part one ˗ˏˋhereˎˊ˗

A/N: Okie dokie ! It is finished,,, I hope you all enjoy it and that it lives up to your expectations. I apologise for it taking so long ! I've been struggling with motivation to write lately but I am pretty proud of this big one and thank you for being so patient !!! <33

Summary: Temporarily living with Johnny has it's challenges, especially since he still isn't being upfront about his feelings or your relationship.

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, mentions of anxiety/panic attacks, mentions of stalking (ex), alcohol consumption, minor harrassment (ex), mental instablity (ex), minor mentions of violence, arguments, mean!Johnny, possessive/jealous!Johnny, reader has a nightmare, masturbation, thigh riding, biting, cunnilingus, grinding, creampie (?), minor dacryphilia, vaginal fingering, minor overstimulation, no use of y/n

MDNI

The past few days with Johnny have been good, you have mostly been watching movies and playing board games. He offered you a deal – for every movie you watch, you have to watch one of his after. A fine deal by any means… if you hadn’t already seen them. Being friends with Johnny means watching all of his movies at least once but it seems like staying here has given him the opportunity to make you watch them all again.

If he hadn’t been so kind and you weren’t so worried about being ungrateful or overstaying your welcome, you would complain and kick up more of a fuss but all in all, you don’t really mind. It’s not like his movies are bad… okay, some of them are definitely not good but he’s still in them so you don’t really mind. He’s a good actor and a good-looking man so it makes sitting through the lesser of his films bearable, that and he’s always so happy when you watch them together, how could you turn him down.

You needed a break from his movies though, which has resulted in a game of trivial pursuit and while you can’t prove it… you think he’s cheating, “This isn’t fun when it’s only two people playing,” you complain.

He’s leaning back on his palms and smiling cockily at you, you’re both sat facing each other with his coffee table in between, the game sat atop and looking at it, you can see just how far behind you are.

“You’re only saying that because you’re losing,” he snickers back at you.

You scowl at him, “Who knows things like…” you pick up another card and read it out, “When the first movie trailer was shown?”

He lightly rolls his eyes, “1913 and plenty of people would know that!”

“No! People don’t just know that?” You’re exasperated with him; he has to know that’s not common knowledge and it’s odd that he knows that off the top of his head.

He shrugs at you, smug smile on his face, “I guess I’m just that good.”

You squint at him, annoyed that he is apparently a trivia god, “Or just that odd.”

“I may be odd but you’re the one dying to get fucked by me,” he wiggles his eyebrows at you.

You groan at him and feel yourself grow hot in the face, “Whatever, just pick a new card.” You flick the card you’re holding at him and he laughs as it falls flat before hitting him.

He’s incredibly happy with himself, now using your desire for him as some kind of punchline. He’s not touched you again, not since the incident on the couch. It’s not like you’ve not made your move either, you’ve tried enticing him and every time he looks so close to folding before he gathers himself and moves forward. For a man who flirts relentlessly with you, he sure does have a lot of self-control.

Your phone buzzes on the table and you pick it up to look, face immediately twisting into an expression of displeasure.

“You good?” Johnny asks.

Placing your phone down, you look to him and answer, “Mhm, yeah… it’s just work.”

He raises a brow at you, “Again?”

You hum at him because yes, again.

Work has been messaging you fairly frequently to see if you’ve gotten ‘better’, you haven’t gone back yet, you used a few of your sick days so you could get some time off after the traumatic event of your ex breaking into and trashing your apartment but management seems to be getting pissy with you, so you will have to go back soon.

Something that had surprised you was Johnny also taking a few days off work to stay with you, you think he’s apprehensive about leaving you alone, which you can’t blame him… you don’t really want to be alone. You haven’t told him that though, you would never ask him to put you above his work.

Johnny sits up, no longer leaning on his hands, “What did they say?”

“They’re just asking how I feel… if I’m better,” you hesitate slightly, “I think I’ll go back tomorrow.”

“I don’t think you should.” He replies quickly.

This is not the first time he’s shown upset at the prospect of you going back to work, “I have to, I still have to pay for my apartment you know.”

He looks at you sincerely, “You know I would pay for anything you need me to.”

“And you know that I’m not comfortable with that,” you retort.

He’s offered to cover the cost of everything for you multiple times now and every time he brings it up, you shoot him down.

“I just don’t love the idea of you going back there, not with your ex still…” his face turns up in disgust, “Existing.”

You chuckle slightly, “It should be fine.”

You say that but you are worried about possibly running into him too, you don’t know if he’s still lingering around your neighbourhood or not. Which, speaking of your apartment, you’re waiting to hear back from your landlord on whether or not the door has been fixed.You’re also dreading having to go back though, you’ve been putting it off for days now. You were supposed to go back for pyjamas but instead Johnny has been letting you live in his shirts.

“Just take tomorrow off, one more day,” he gives you puppy dog eyes. When you don’t immediately reply, he adds, batting his eyelashes at you, “For me?”

Your lips downturn at his stupidity, “Ugh fine, just stop looking at me like that.”

He smiles brightly at you, “Cool! We can watch more of my movies tomorrow.”

You shoot back, “Don’t you have a job?”

“Making you watch all my movies is part of my job,” he jokes.

You whinge out at him, “But I’ve already seen them all~.”

“And now you’re watching them all again~,” he mocks you, smile big and with how proud of himself he is, the weight of his pride might crush you.

“You’re lucky I think you’re cute,” you grumble.

He chuckles at you, “Is that the only reason you’re watching all my movies? Because you want to sleep with me?”

“I’m not going to say you’re completely wrong,” you tease.

He places a hand over his heart, “Do you like any of my movies?”

“Your movies, or movies you’ve starred in?” You clarify.

He’s examining you carefully, “Both.”

You don’t have to think about it, “I like your movies,” you admit, “But you have starred in some questionable ones.”

He points a finger gun at you, “Touché.”

“Are we done playing yet?” You lament, referencing the almost forgotten game of trivial pursuit.

“Are you done pretending you still have a chance at winning?” He counters.

“Never.”

He rolls his eyes playfully at your stubbornness, “What if I said I’d fuck you right now if you’d admit you’ve lost.”

Your heart stutters in your chest and if you felt like he was being serious, you would fold and tell him he’s the all-time winner of trivial pursuit but you know him and you know he’s only teasing, “I’d tell you that you’re being mean and that I’d also sooner die before admitting premature defeat.”

“That’s a real shame,” he hums.

You’re getting annoyed with him; he keeps doing this to you. Relentlessly teasing you with no follow through, not even so much as a kiss. You get up on your knees and shuffle over to him, you end up right in his lap, his hands move to your hips instinctually.

He smirks at you, “And what are you trying to accomplish right now, doll?”

“You’ve been really mean, Johnny,” you pout at him.

“How can I fix it?” he asks.

You feel timid, shy, “You can stop pretending like the other night never happened.”

He’s serious as he answers, “I’m not pretending anything; I know it happened.”

“You’ve not even…” You trail off, now worried that you read into things too much and that you’re still just friends.

“Sugar, I’ve not stopped thinking about it,” he confesses.

You hesitate but probe, “So, you still want me?”

He almost has an air of confusion about him, baffled by your doubt, “Never stopped.”

“Then why haven’t you even kissed me again?” Your brows upturn at him.

His hand moves to hold your face, his thumb stroking high on your cheekbone, “Worried I’m not gonna be able to control myself.”

You lean into his hand slightly, “Don’t want you to.”

He groans, “See, you saying stuff like that doesn’t help,”

“Can I have one kiss?” you mimic the way he bat his eyelashes at you earlier, tacking on, “Please?”

He groans at you, pained, “How could I possibly say no?”

His hand on the the side of your face tilts your head and his lips brush over yours, the small contact electrifying to you. It feels like it’s been so long since he’s kissed you and being this close to him is making you dizzy. He teases you with his proximity, holding you close but never actually kissing you. Just as you’re about to huff out in annoyance at him, he pushes his lips to yours.

The kiss is hot, his mouth insistent and full, your shock gives him the chance to stick his tongue inside your mouth, licking at you. You moan into him, your body relaxing completely, incredibly content to be placated by his lips. His hand on your hip holds you tight, his fingers digging in, attempting to ground himself.

His own moans are muffled by the kiss, you’re affecting him just as much as he thought you would. He begrudgingly pulls away from you, knowing if he keeps kissing you, he’ll lose his mind and end up making you cum for him in anyway he can think of. You whinge as he pulls back and he can’t help the incredibly smug expression on his face at the sound, forever feeling self-pleased by how needy you are for him.

He purrs at you, “Happy?”

“You could make me happier,” you retort.

He only chuckles at you in response before asking, “You gonna admit to losing trivial pursuit?”

You frown at him, “Absolutely not!”

“Then sit your ass back over on your side of the coffee table and answer your question like a good girl,” his tone is a teasing kind of firmness.

You plant a single full kiss on his lips before crawling back over to your side, Johnny’s eyes stay glued to your ass as you shuffle across the carpet. His mind immediately filling with images of his cock pile driving into you while your back is arched for him. This was supposed to be a wholesome game and now he’s thinking of fucking you into the carpet while making you answer trivia questions.

You grumble at him, “You’re so mean to me.”

“I’d feel worse about it if you didn’t seem to enjoy it so much,” he’s incredibly glib right now, completely correct about his effect on you.

“You’re wrong,” you try denying.

“Really?” he raises a brow to you, “Because I seem to remember your pretty little pussy gripping my fingers awfully tight when I was ‘mean’ to you.”

Your face heats up again, “Just pick out a card,” you mumble.

His grin is Cheshire like, “Whatever you want, sugar.” He picks up a new card, “What is the literary term for a word that describes a sound?”

You know this one and you smile brightly, “Onomatopoeia!” you point at him excitedly.

He laughs at your excitement, “You got it.”

You have a small celebratory moment to yourself before you pull out a new card, “If you know this one I’m gonna scream.”

He’s confident in his trivia abilities, “Get ready to yell, doll.”

You read from the card, “What is the year of the first recorded flight?”

“1903,” he smiles cockily, completely sure that he’s right.

And he is, you glare at him and grumble out, “You’re correct.”

“I know,” his tone is self-satisfied.

You don’t win trivial pursuit but you do take pride in not giving up, you may not be good at trivia but you’re proud of yourself for seeing it through. Some may call it stubbornness but you think it shows strength to sit there and try like hell to win even when defeat is right in front of you. You gave it your best shot and you had fun. You will get better at trivia though… he won’t be winning next time. Not that you’re competitive or anything.

✰ ✰ ✰

In the morning you’re woken up by your phone buzzing by your head, sleepily you squint at your screen and see that it’s work trying to call you again. You grumble annoyed at how persistent they are but relent and answer.

“Are you feeling better yet?” Your managers voice is sharp and his question is straight to the point. You’re a bit taken aback by how direct and grumpy he is, you don’t even get to say anything before he continues, “Listen, we’ve been swamped here, unless you’re actively dying, it would be best if you came in. Best for you I mean.”

You don’t miss his threat, your job is now on the line if you don’t go in but with how he’s being such a dick you try to negotiate, “I can come in tomorrow.”

“Today would be best,” he sighs, you don’t answer him and he grunts at you, “Fine, come in tomorrow, if you’re not in tomorrow, you’re getting cut from the roster.”

“Alright, see you–” he didn’t even let you finish your goodbye; he’s already hung up on you. Bastard.

You stare up at the ceiling, your mood for the day already completely ruined, you feel badly because you know you’re lying to work and they do need help but you’re also having a hard time bringing yourself to leave Johnny’s apartment, let alone go back to your neighbourhood. The thought of him being there sends a cold spike of anxiety through you, he did all that to your home, what is he planning to do to you? It’s a frightening thought.

You lay motionless on your mattress for a while, too anxious to go back to sleep but also too tired to get up. Clattering can be heard in the kitchen though and you’re concerned as to what Johnny is attempting to do so you haul yourself up, out of the bed and into his kitchen.

When you make your way into the main area you can see Johnny making pancakes… you think? Mostly, it just looks like he’s making a mess, “What are you doing?”

“Shit–” He jumps at the sound of your voice, dropping the spatula he was holding onto the ground, “I wasn’t expecting you to be awake so early,” he mumbles out as he bends down to retrieve it.

Your tone is amused as you ask again, “What are you doing?”

“Making breakfast,” he sighs.

You walk over to him and see he’s made a complete mess of the kitchen; he’s used far too many bowls for what he’s made. He also seems to have made up some pancake mix two separate times before using the one he is holding now.

You come up beside him and look over what he’s doing, “Why did you make so much mix?”

“The other ones had a weird texture,” he’s focusing hard on tipping some of the mix into the pan.

You want to comment on how he could be doing things better but you’re so appreciative of his efforts and you don’t want to sound like a know it all. But you can’t help but cringe as the bowl slips a bit and gets all over his hand.

He groans out, “I dunno how you did this so effortlessly, I’m killing myself here, doll.” You’re distracted by how he lifts his hand to his mouth and licks some of the batter off, he notices and smiles at you knowingly, moving his hand in front of your face he asks, “Want a taste, sugar?”

Wordlessly, your wrap your lips around his index finger, sucking it clean. Johnny groans at the sight of it, not expecting you to be so willing, he was only joking around but now you’re gently suckling on his finger and he’s about to pass out over it.

You pull back slowly and kiss the tip of his finger when you’re done cleaning it. He’s looking at you like you’ve hung the moon and stars in the sky and you can only huff out an amused laugh at him.

“Move over,” you shoo him away, “I will make the pancakes, you can start cleaning up,” you reach out for the mixing bowl he was holding.

He hands it to you reluctantly, “I was trying to make breakfast for you.”

“And I appreciate it so much but you’re going to make a mess of yourself if you continue,” you place the bowl off to the side and flip the pancake that was still in the pan, it’s too thick and also a little extra crispy thanks to the both of you getting distracted.

He comes up behind you, his arms trapping you against the bench, he leans in over your shoulder, “Would you clean me up if I did?” His words are suggestive, far from innocent.

You turn it back on him, “Would you let me?”

His head drops to your shoulder, resting there, “I want to, doll. Bad.”

“You’re the only one stopping it,” you hum out, focusing on the task at hand, trying to ignore how close he is to you.

He stays close to you as you make the pancakes, his hands move from the bench to your hips, his hands hold onto you, lightly pawing at you, “Why are you up so early anyways? I thought I had more time.”

“Work called me again, woke me up,” you mutter, already knowing Johnny’s going to be pissed that they’ve rung you again.

“Was it that asshole again?” He asks, referencing your manager.

You flip a pancake over in the pan, “Yeah, they’re short staffed and need my help.”

Johnny’s arms wrap around you more, holding you to him as his head turns into your neck, “I hope you said no.”

“I did but I feel bad, I have to go in tomorrow,” you tell him.

“You do not, not if you aren’t ready to be back there,” his arms squeeze you just the tiniest bit tighter, comforting you. He knows how frightened you are to go back to that neighbourhood.

One of your hands reaches down and holds his hand for a moment, “I appreciate the sentiment but I do have to go back, he threatened my job.”

“He what?” Johnny bristles behind you, moving to stand tall, turning you around to face him, “What the hell did he say?”

“It’s nothing that bad, he just said it would be ‘best’ for me if I came in tomorrow,” you wince slightly as you repeat your managers message.

Johnny’s scowl deepens, severely pissed off with your manager, “He’s such a dick, I don’t like him.”

“Not many people do but I can also understand his frustrations at the moment, plus… I’m not even sick, so…” You feel sheepish and you turn away from him, pouring the last of the batter into the pan.

Johnny scoffs from behind you, “So what? As far as he’s concerned you are sick and it’s not like you’re taking the time off for kicks. After what you’ve been through, you deserve some time off.”

He’s making you feel emotional, you don’t like thinking about what happened too hard, it’s still too fresh. You purse your lips and focus on the pancake sizzling in the pan instead of the slight burn in your eyes from holding back tears.

He places his hand on your shoulder, “You deserve to go to work without fear.”

Now why did he go and say that? You can’t help but cry silently as you flip the pancake, you’re trying so hard to hide it, blinking away your tears as soon as they form. Johnny knows though, he knows he touched a sore spot for you but he was genuinely only trying to help.

“Oh doll,” he sighs out at you, pulling you into his arms. You turn into him and cling on, needing the comfort right now. He lets you cry into his shirt for a moment, your tears no doubt soaking into the fabric. His hands rub up and down your back, trying to soothe you.

You remember the pancake though and sniffle into his shirt, “The pancake is going to burn.”

He takes the spatula from you and flips it onto the plate, “All better,” he places the utensil back down and moves his other hand back to you, “You worry about the silliest of things.”

You laugh dryly into him, “So do you.” He holds you in his kitchen for a bit as you will yourself to stop crying, you’re worried about the pancakes getting cold, “Hot pancakes are better than cold ones.”

His hands stop moving on your back and his head tilts down to you, “Is that your way of telling me you want to eat the pancakes now?”

“I am worried about them getting cold,” your face is still pressed into his shirt, your words slightly mumbled.

He shrugs at you, “I’m not.”

You make a face that he can’t see, it’s one of displeasure, “You should be… cold pancakes are bad.”

He dismisses, “They aren’t that bad.”

You’re still teary eyed but you pull back and look at him with as serious an expression as you can muster, “Cage… don’t eat cold pancakes.”

He smiles at you, happy to see your face again. His hand cups the side of your face, “There she is, my pretty doll.”

His words make your skin grow hot and you look away, he’s smiling big though, always happy to embarrass you.

You look at the pancakes on the bench, “Let’s just eat, yeah?”

“Whatever you want, sugar,” he pulls his hand away but not before booping the tip of your nose gently.

You sigh at him but move around the kitchen getting ready to plate out breakfast, Johnny comes up to your side and stops you, “Go sit down, I’ll plate it up.”

“But–”

“Don’t ‘but’ me, you ended up making them all so go sit down,” he points over to the breakfast bar.

You want to argue with him, about how you didn’t put nearly as much effort into making them as he did. How he did the most annoying part but based on the look on his face, you wouldn’t be able to convince him to let you plate it up anyways. So, you sulk away and around the bench, perching yourself atop the stool and wait for him to give you your pancakes.

As you watch him move around the kitchen something occurs to you, “Did you tell me the wrong cabinet when I was first here just so you could see my ass?”

He stands to face you, his smile sly but his tone faux offended, “I would never do that, how dare you.”

You roll your eyes at him and his response, “You would do that.”

“Can you blame me? You’ve got one hell of an ass, sugar,” he places your plate down in front you, wiggling his eyebrows as he does.

You try to be offended but you end up feeling complimented, “Thank you,” he smiles deviously at you and you squint back at him, “for the pancakes, not your gross compliment.”

“Ah, but you took it as a compliment,” he throws a wink your way, his demeanour pleased.

You roll your eyes at him and eat your pancakes, they aren’t bad. He did an alright job with the batter… third times the charm, it was just the actual cooking part he seemed to have the most issues with. Well… that and the mess he made.

You realise he spent his time clinging to you instead of cleaning like he was supposed to, “You didn’t clean…”

“I got distracted,” he mumbles, mouth full.

Not looking at him, you reply, “You do that a lot.”

“Stop living here and it won’t be a problem anymore,” he nudges your arm with his elbow.

“Alright,” you agree easily, you’re only staying for as long as you’re welcome.

Johnny doesn’t flinch, “No.”

You turn to look at him, questioning look on your face, “No?”

He still doesn’t look to you, mindlessly eating his breakfast as he explains, “Yeah, no. Keep staying here, I don’t mind being distracted.” He turns to you and smiles, “I like it, actually.”

His smile and words fluster you; you’re still concerned about overstaying your welcome though. Turning back to your food you mutter, “If you get sick of me and need me to leave, tell me, I’ll go.”

“You are always welcome in my home, not gonna ask you to leave, doll,” he picks up his plate and walks into the kitchen, stopping behind you to press a kiss to the crown of your head, “Not now or in the future, stay as long as you like…” he puts his plate in the sink, “…hell, stay forever.”

“I’m not staying forever,” you giggle, taking it as a joke.

He smiles fondly at you, “Do whatever you like, you’re always welcome here.”

✰ ✰ ✰

Waking up is hard, especially since you know you have a shift later, one you are none too keen to do. Images of your ex grabbing at you, of you punching him, the feeling of the impact, it’s all still so fresh in your mind and the idea of maybe running into him, or worse, him waiting for you, is horrifying. You might have to look for a new job but you like where you are, you like your co-workers. It’s also convenient, within walking distance from your apartment but now think that may not be such a bonus anymore, especially if you decide to move.

You’ve been considering getting a new place but your apartment is rent controlled and a decent price and it’s close to everything, moving is such a hassle but the idea of going back there and living day to day life frightens you. You’ll be constantly on edge in that apartment, you know what needs to be done but that doesn’t make it easy.

Lying in bed and thinking about this isn’t going to make it better though, you’re just stressing yourself out. You groan dramatically to the empty room as you pull yourself out of bed, your limbs feel heavy. If you had your way, you’d stay in bed a little longer but you know Johnny will be leaving for work soon and you want to see him before he goes.

You find him looking like a mess in the hallway, trying to shuffle himself out the door, his phone is balanced between his ear and shoulder, fingers fiddling with the buttons on his shirt. He smiles when he sees you, mouthing a good morning. You smile back at him and shoo his hands away from his shirt, one drops to his side and the other hold his phone properly.

There’s some kind of issue with one of the actors in his films, you could probably gather more if you weren’t distracted by his skin peeking out from under his shirt. His voice is stern on the phone, a tone you’ve only heard a handful of times, one that’s rarely, if ever, directed at you. You want him to stay home and have his way with you right now but you’re starting to gather that the begging isn’t really working as well as you want it to, that and you do actually have to go back to work today.

When you’ve buttoned his shirt you pat his chest, he mutes his side of the call and holds his phone away from his ear, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you’re fighting to keep your eyes on his and not look at his lips.

His free hand holds the side of your face, “I’ll be back late today,” he looks away from you for a second, “I’d prefer if you didn’t go in today, I might not be available if you need me.”

You roll your eyes at him lightly, “I probably won’t need you, plus my shift is only short and I need money.”

“I can give you money,” his tone is slightly exasperated, his hand moves to hold your shoulder.

“I don’t want your money,” the idea of taking money from him, while also living in his home… is uncomfortable, you don’t care if he’s offering, you are not taking his money.

He looks you over carefully, ignoring the voice coming from his phone, “You really not going to take another day?”

“Nope, I can’t… not without risking my job,” you place your hands on your hips and raise a brow at him, you told him this yesterday.

His head rolls back and he groans a bit, the hand on your shoulder shakes you slightly, “Fine, but finish early and come straight back here,” his face pulls up in disgust, “I hate that, that little rat of a man is still out and about.”

Your lips twist from holding in a laugh, your hand salutes him as you say, “Yessir.”

He squints at you before putting his phone back to his ear, unmuting himself, the person on the other end had started to yell at him through the phone, “I am coming! Geez…”  He spins to leave but quickly turns around and presses a kiss to your lips, “I’ll see you later,” he rushes out the apartment after that.

You’re left shocked, staring at the door he just left out of. It’s not the first time you’ve kissed… obviously but the casualness of it has your stomach erupting in butterflies. He kissed you like it was the most natural thing, like it was a part of your routine, like you’re a couple. Your relationship with him has left you completely confused but how he doubled back just to kiss you goodbye has you smiling to yourself like an idiot all morning.

✰ ✰ ✰

The trip to work is nerve wracking, you’re worried about being back, you’re extra cautious of everyone around you, eyes scanning every face quickly, it’s not until you’re actually at work and can hide in the backroom do you feel the slightest bit better. Having people around you and being behind the counter puts you at ease, it’ll at least be harder for your ex to get at you, hopefully he doesn’t show up though.

You’re waiting the extra few minutes for your shift to start, as you sit and stare at your feet, you see another pair approach and stop in front of you. You’re scared it’s your manager but as you lift your head up to look, you realise it’s just one of your co-workers. Your shoulders drop, relaxing, knowing that you aren’t about to be scolded for you absence.

Your co-worker smiles down at you, “You’re back! Are you feeling better?”  

He is so chipper compared to your general unease about everything, “Ah, hey Michael, yeah… I’m all better,” you give him a polite smile.

“Are you sure? You don’t look so well…” he leans down slightly, as if to examine you closer before moving out of your personal space, “Sorry! I didn’t mean that in a bad way, you still look great! Beautiful, even… uhm, what I mean is… you just look a little run down,” his hand awkwardly scratches at the back of his neck.  

“I’m alright… thanks though?” You’re a little confused and aren’t sure what the appropriate response to him would be.

Michael is a nice guy and you’ve known him for a bit now, long enough to consider him a friend but he’s horribly awkward around you sometimes and you can’t figure out why, or what the suitable way to react to him would be.

He stands in front of you, rocking on his heels slightly, hands stuffed into his pockets, “I can take most of the orders and serve if you like? So, you don’t have to talk to as many people. You can hang back and wipe tables and stuff, the work people do when there is no work,” he laughs lightly.

You protest, if it’s been as busy as your manager says then you don’t want to put it all on Michael, “You don’t have to do that!”

He waves his hand dismissively at you, “It’s not been that busy, I’m happy to do it.”

The offer he makes sounds perfect to you, normally you would protest more but the risk of having to serve your ex is high and Michael has just unknowingly given you an out, “That… would actually be great, thank you. If things get busy though I will be on top of it!”

“Don’t worry about it, take it slow and let me know if you need me to cover for you or something… like if you need an extra break,” he’s still shuffling on his feet but he’s calmed a bit, “To be honest, if you aren’t feeling well, I don’t think you should be here.”

“Tell that to big boss man,” you snark out humourlessly.

His face pulls up in a sympathetic grimace, “He call you in, huh?”

“Yeah, he said you guys have been really busy and not so subtly threatened my job if I didn’t come in,” you wear a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes as you speak, sharing the bitten back annoyance you feel towards your manager.

Michael rolls his eyes, “That sure is one of his favourite moves, you know he wouldn’t have fired you though, too many of us would also leave if he fired you for being unwell.”

He’s right, most people would walk out, you know you would but you also don’t doubt your managers hubris, he probably would have fired you just to prove a point, even if it caused him to lose other employees too.

You half smile at him, “I dunno, I think he would fire me still, I also wouldn’t want people to leave here because of me, the pay is too good compared to other service jobs.” You glance to the clock behind his head and place your hands to your knees, pushing yourself up, “Oh well, time to start.”

Michael rolls his head and groans slightly, dreading the shift as much as you, “Great,” he looks to you again, “Seriously though, take it easy and let me know if you need anything.”

You smile and thank him again before the both of you clock on and walk out of the backroom.

The first half of your shift is uneventful, everything is quiet for the most part, busy your ass. Michael kept true to his offer and has been manning most of the orders while you hang back and make the odd drink or coffee, which you don’t mind, human interaction is not something you were looking forward to today and you somehow always end up with the weirdest customers.

The customers today, however, are mostly older people, you notice that there are only a few other people working, which is odd. The place is a small café/restaurant kind of gig, it’s nice but it can get busier and it can get busy quick, so you’re surprised by how slow it is today.

While you’re on your ten-minute break, your manager approaches you, “Glad to see you back.”

“It is good to be back,” you try to be as inoffensive as possible but you think your disdain for him is something that cannot be easily hidden.

He stares blankly at you for a moment, “Can you stay back today? Our closer called out.”

You remember Johnny’s words and how he had asked you to come back early, “I don’t think–”

“–It would be helpful, if you could, otherwise Michael will be alone.”

“Michael is staying back too?” You’re confused, normally you’d both be swapped out, actually, normally there would be at least another server on around this time.

Your manager looks exasperated with all this back and forth, “Yeah he’s already covering for someone else.”

Damn, Michael is such a pushover and you feel bad for him, you know you said to Johnny you would go straight back to his after your shift but you feel bad for your co-worker, that and the extra money is pretty enticing after not coming to work for a bit… plus… you still technically would be going straight back to Johnny’s, it would just be a little bit later.

You sigh out before answering, “I suppose I can stay back.”

“That’s great, thank you, take an extra ten,” he pats your shoulder and shuffles off.

You guess what he meant by “swamped” was actually “understaffed”, sounds like a lot of the servers have been calling out. Which kind of has you understanding his frustrations with you, you’re still pissed at him for handling it poorly though.

You use the extra ten-minutes to sit and zone out, staring at the bleak wall of the backroom. Distantly, you consider messaging Johnny to tell him you’ll be back later than you thought but he’s also meant to be late, so chances are, you’ll get back before him.

Before you have more time to think about it though, your break is up and you’re heading back out onto the floor. The hours tick by… so… slowly, the afternoon picks up a bit in business and you help with serving but then it dies down again not long after and you’re back to a coffee every now and again and cleaning.

The bell on the door dings as it swings open and closed, Michael greets them, their voice catches your attention and as you look at them, your blood runs cold. Your ex has just walked through the door and moved to sit at a table, Michael goes over to take his order and your heart feels like it’s about to pound out of your chest.

You aren’t sure what you should do, the cops weren’t helpful last time and you don’t want them coming to your place of work, you’re frightened and uncertain of what to do. He looks to you and you catch his gaze, he smiles at you and wiggles his fingers in greeting, you frown back at him and storm off to the backroom, giving yourself time to calm down.

Deep breaths in and out, in… and out… you focus on things around you, the feel of the wall under your palm, how your feet feel in your shoes, how your apron scrunches in your fist, your racing heart calms down, slowing to a more reasonable pace. You roll your head and crack your neck, trying to remove the stiffness in your bones, you think about Johnny, you think about how safe he makes you feel and you think about calling him. You won’t, you don’t feel like you should, he’s busy today and he said he would be unreachable… and you’re worried about what he may do, how it may upset him that you’ve agreed to stay back later.

Your energy is better spent calming down and pretending like your ex has not upset you, it’s a power move on his behalf, showing up here, he’s trying to scare you and while it is working, you are not going to let him know that, he will not be getting anything more out of you. He doesn’t deserve any sort of satisfaction, what he does deserve is another smack to the head but you will control that urge too, you really need your job.

Taking one last deep breath, you leave the room and go back to doing the odd jobs cleaning up, you continue your shift, ignoring him the whole time, you don’t even look at him, all of your focus is put into whatever you’re doing in that moment. You can feel him watching though, he stays the whole of your shift, watching you and hoping you’ll look his way, he makes your skin crawl.

Towards the end of your shift, when you’re closing up and everyone has left, Michael approaches you, “That guy from earlier, he comes in a lot lately and he’s usually fine… but today he was unsettling, he wouldn’t stop watching you,” he pauses and looks out the front window, “and I think he’s waiting outside.”

You groan, this is something you would rather not have to tell anyone about but since he’s picked up on it and you really don’t want to leave alone, you confide in Michael, “He’s my ex… and he’s been stalking me? Of sorts… it’s why I hadn’t come to work for a bit, I was worried he would come here.”

He makes a shocked face, “That’s horrific, have you told someone?”

“The cops know but they’re about as helpful as nipples on men,” you’re completely frustrated and you also don’t want to talk too in depth about this.

He chuckles at your statement, caught off guard by it, “Sorry, this is not funny but I’ve not heard someone say that before while also looking so serious.”

You also crack a smile, it was the first thing that came to your mind, it is a bit ridiculous, “It’s fine, it’s a stupid saying.”

“Definitely true though,” he adds before his expression turns more serious, sympathetic to you,  “I am so sorry this has been happening to you… you don’t deserve this, can I do anything to help? Do you want me to give you a lift home?”

You appreciate his offer deeply and while maybe you would accept it if you were staying at yours, you don’t feel comfortable giving him Johnny’s address, “No, that’s okay, I’ve been staying with a friend so I’m just gonna catch a cab to their place.”

“Are you sure? Do you want me to at least wait with you?” He seems a little apprehensive at leaving you on your own.

“I would like that, please,” you don’t want to wait on the side of the road by yourself, not with him right outside.

The pair of you walk outside together after double checking everything is packed away properly, Michael makes sure he’s on the side your ex is when you leave the building, not wanting him to possibly get at you. Your ex only watches, he doesn’t approach you, he just stands there, you don’t know what he’s doing but you feel like he may be waiting for you to be left alone.

You don’t speak, you don’t have anything to say, you’re trying your best to not show how unsettled by him you are, all of your focus put into keeping yourself calm. The sound of a lighter flickering is oddly loud in the quiet street, cigarette smoke lingers in the air, your ex has lit up a cigarette and the smell is making you feel sickly, though that might just be his presence altogether.

Michael places an arm around you before leaning in, “Are you okay? You sure I can’t just give you a ride?”

“No, I’m fine, thank you,” you smile at him and then pull out your phone, getting ready to order a cab.

A loud car is speeding up the street, the sounds make you roll your eyes, asshole, you think. It’s getting closer though, and then it’s pulling over right in front of you. The expression on your face is annoyed, pissed off, you want to curse out the asshole driving like a dick, you even go so far as opening your mouth to say something but as they get out of the car, you realise it’s Johnny, and then you’re shocked silent, your mouth closing very suddenly.

Michael is just as shocked and confused, his arm coming off you as he asks, “Holy fuck, is that Johnny Cage?”

Johnny walks straight to you, ignoring Michael, “Are you okay? Why are you still out? I told you to come back early,” his brows are set in a deep frown, eyes scanning you quickly, hands holding your face tenderly.

“I’m fine and I got asked to stay back, I was about to catch a cab–”

“–Why didn’t you call me?” His hands come off your face but one of them reaches down to your hand and grips it in his.

“You said you were going to be busy and unreachable,” you shrug, you know you could’ve sent a text or something but you didn’t want to be a nuisance, not when it seemed like his start to the day was already rocky.

“Not that unreachable,” he sighs, he looks around your surroundings properly, you think he may finally take notice of Michael who has been very patiently waiting to be acknowledged.

You try prompting an introduction, “Uhm, this is my co-worker, Michael.”

“Why the fuck is he here,” Johnny ignores your words, gaze set off to the side where your ex is, his hand grips yours a little tighter, he moves closer to you, glaring at your ex.

You don’t want there to be a scene, you want what you wanted before, you want to leave and go back to Johnny’s, you just want to feel safe again, “Johnny–”

“–How long has he been here for?” He barely glances back at you, still staring your ex down.

“Most of her shift,” Michael answers for you, it makes you cringe because you know Johnny is going to have a lot of thoughts about you not telling him.

Johnny finally acknowledges his presence, “What?”

“He’s been here all day… and then he was hanging around after close…” Michael looks to you, “Did I say something wrong?” He asks you a bit quieter.

“No, you’ve done nothing wrong,” you get Johnny may be a little on edge and severely pissed at your ex but he’s being overtly hostile towards Michael for no reason.

Johnny hums, “Get in the car, doll.”

You prompt him, “Johnny,” he looks to you and you keep talking, “Don’t do anything, I just want to leave.”

Johnny scowls, thinking on it for a moment, wanting so badly to walk those few steps over to your ex and beat the fuck out of him, he looks back to you and sees the way your eyes plead with him and he recognises you’ve probably had the worst day of work in your life, the psychological torture of having your ex watch your every move exhausting and frightening.

He concedes to you, “Fine, we’ll just leave.” He turns around to open the car door for you.

You turn to Michael and place a hand on his shoulder, “Sorry about everything and seriously, thank you for today, you made it easier being here.”

“Anytime, I hope the cops do something about your ex soon, I hate that you’re going through this,” he looks worried for you and you can’t blame him but you think Johnny does enough worrying about you for ten people.

“Have a good night,” you pat his shoulder before walking to the car.

“Hey!” He calls out to you before you sit down, “Uhm, if you need anything, text me.”

You smile at him as Johnny closes the car door, you give him a thumbs up from inside the car, you don’t think you’ll ask for his help but it’s kind of him to offer, he’s a very giving person.

Johnny takes a bit longer to get in the car, it doesn’t look like he says anything to Michael but he stares at him for a bit. When he does get inside the car, he wordlessly starts the engine and drives you both back to his. It’s tense and it feels like you’re in trouble, your leg is bouncing up and down with your nerves and he reaches over to you, placing his hand on your thigh, attempting to comfort you.

It works, slightly, you would feel better if he broke his silence and got his thoughts all out now but you know he’s going to wait until you’re both back at his apartment. His thumb rubs along your skin, soothing you, it calms you enough to sit still the rest of the drive.

Still, no words are spoken the whole way up to his apartment, nothing other than your small thank yous when he opens a door for you, mostly you trail behind him. When you reach the door he lets you in first, locking it and walking into the living room, you linger awkwardly but ultimately follow after him.

He must hear you follow because he doesn’t turn around as he asks, “What were you thinking? Your ex shows up while you’re working and not only do you not think to tell me, you also stay the whole shift and even work late?” He’s exasperated, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

You shuffle into the room more, “…We are understaffed and I didn’t want to make Michael handle that on his own, plus it’s good money… and I need the money, so I can pay for the apartment.”

He turns around to look at you, “But you didn’t tell me any of that? Just left me in the dark to come home to an empty apartment?”

Your brows knit together, starting to get frustrated with him, “You said you were going to be unreachable, of course I wanted to call you as soon as I was asked to stay back, as soon as he showed up, but I thought about your words this morning… and honestly, I thought of how you’re reacting right now!”

“So, you rely on some stranger?” His hands gesture angrily.

“Who?” you’re confused.

He grimaces, “The fucker with you tonight.”

“Michael?” He nods and you make a perplexed face back at him, “He’s not a stranger? He’s my co-worker and I have known him for a bit now,” you hesitate before adding quietly, “He’s a friend.”

Johnny crosses his arms and raises a brow at you, “A friend, like how I’m a friend?”

“What–”

He cuts you off, not even letting you ask your question, “­–Like how you’re begging me to fuck you any chance you get, kind of friend?”

You’re deeply frustrated with him, you don’t like his tone, or attitude, “What are you attempting to imply right now?”

“Nothing, I’m not implying anything,” he glowers at you, nothing secret about how he’s feeling right now, everything he feels is on his face.

He’s cutting you deep, your feelings run deeper for him than just physically and he has to know that by now, “I feel like you’re being incredibly unfair, I like you a lot and I want you in more than just one way.” You wrap your arms around yourself, pulling back from him.

He doesn’t say anything, he just stands there looking at you, still angry for no good reason. You turn around and leave him there, if you stay here looking at him while he does nothing but glare at you, you’ll cry.

You’ve just told him how you feel, you were honest and he doesn’t give you the same courtesy, not just now but ever, he’s not told you how he honestly feels and you can only put up with that for so long. You’re not a dog with a bone but he makes you feel like one, saying sweet nothings to you but not actually saying what he means or how he feels.

You head back to the guest room and flop onto the bed, allowing yourself a moment to sob, you’ve had such a shitty day and you wanted more than anything to come back here and tell Johnny about it, to be held by him while he told you everything is going to be okay. Now, you’re not only just upset about your workday, you’re also pissed at Johnny for how he just treated you.

From in your back pocket, your phone vibrates.

✰ ✰ ✰

You don’t really know how you’ve ended up here… well, you do, some of the girls from your college course invited you to a party and you were pretty keen to jump at the idea of escaping all your thoughts for the evening, you have tomorrow off so what’s the harm? Is what you had thought. You ended up sneaking out of Johnny’s apartment and ubering to the address you were given, from there it’s all a bit more hazy, you’ve been drinking a lot. Not typically something you do but you think after the day you’ve had, you earned it.

You do remember you left a note for Johnny to find, telling him you were fine and would be back late, you initially weren’t going to leave him anything but you thought that would be unkind, plus, it would only serve to worry him. Which, you genuinely don’t want him to stress about you so much, you are perfectly capable of caring for yourself, you’ve done it this long.

The night started out fun, drinking and dancing with these girls, but now you’re past drunk and they are nowhere to be seen. The people around you are getting handsy too, now that you’re alone on the dancefloor you’re an easier target. All the people in your personal space is starting to get to you and you end up pushing through the crowd of people to try and find some familiar faces.

It feels like you search the whole house twice but you can’t seem to find any of them, which is odd, you don’t know where they went or why they haven’t so much as messaged you about where they are. If you weren’t so far gone, you might worry about them more but the world is starting to spin a bit and you find yourself walking out the front and sitting on the stairs, you’re alone out here, well, alone besides the few people passed out on the lawn but you don’t think you’re going to count them.

The fresh air will hopefully help you feel better, you pull out your phone to order an uber and see a bunch of missed calls and texts from Johnny. You go to swipe the notification away but accidentally press it and your phone starts calling him back. Your attempts to hang up before he answers fail, especially since he picks up so quickly, the line barely ringing twice.

Johnny sounds pleased and pissed off to hear from you, “Thank god! Where the hell are you?”

“It said in mm note, at friends party,” your words are coming out slurred even though you’re trying to sound sober.

You can almost feel his glare through the phone, “Your note was stupid, why did you leave without telling me?”

You counter, “Would you have let me leave?” He doesn’t say anything, the other end of the phone in complete silence, “Exactly, plus mm still mad at you,” you state.

His tone is scrutinising, “Are you drunk?”

You ask him stupidly, “Are you?”

“What? Obviously not?” He sighs into the phone, irritated by you, “Just tell me you’re safe at least.”

“Mmmm, I think so? I dunno… actually can you come get me? I dunno where mm friends are and I don’t wanna be here anymore,” you lean your head to your shoulder, closing your eyes for a second.

He sounds relieved, “Yes, I can come get you, send me the address.”

You like listening to him talk, “You have a nice voice, sometimes when you talk it gives me butterflies in my tummy…” your words are lazy and you trail off.

Johnny urges you, “Hey, focus, tell me where you are, doll.”

“At a friend’s house… hmm hold on,” you think he may still be talking but you’ve pulled your phone away from your ear to text him the address, you hold the phone to your ear again, “Did ya get that?”

“Yeah I did, I’ll be there soon okay, hang tight.”

“Mm not moving, too comfy,” your head rests back to your shoulder, your eyes slow blinking with how tired you’re getting.

Your eyes slip closed and you switch between hearing all the things around you and hearing nothing at all, your head is somehow swimming with every thought you’ve ever had and not a single thing. You rub at your eyes, trying to stay awake and present but you lose the fight and they slip closed again.

You aren’t sure how much time passes but it feels like no time at all has gone by when Johnny shakes you awake, him standing in front of you so soon feels like a hallucination, he leans down to you and your hand reaches up and pokes his chest.

He makes a confused face at you, “What was that for?”

“Jus checking you’re real,” you murmur out.

“Jesus, sugar,” he shakes his head at you, “Come on, let’s get you home,” he reaches down to you.

“Mmkay,” you take his hand and he pulls you up, you fall into him slightly.

He walks you back to his car carefully, worried about your balance the whole time, his hands stay on you, assisting your steps.

“I’m glad you called,” he says.

You mutter back at him, “Didn’t mean to, fingers are stupid.”

He huffs at you lightly, “Okay, well…I’m glad you asked me to come get you.”

You’re hesitant, “Thank you… for coming,” your lips are downturned, still pissed off at him but grateful all the same.

He opens his car door for you, the second time today and you get inside, “I’ve said it before… but I’ll always come… when you call.” He leans over to buckle you in, when he pulls back his fingers hold your chin, “You just have to call me.”

You’re still pouting and you look away from him, he makes you weak and you’re not ready to forgive him, especially when he’s not apologised, “Can we jus leave?”

He sighs softly to himself, “Yeah… let’s leave.”

He gets you both back to his in one piece, you felt a bit dizzy in the car but you’re feeling sturdier by the time you’re back in his apartment. He leads you into the kitchen and gets you a glass of water, he makes you drink it all in front of him.

You watch him as he takes the glass from you and puts it in the dishwasher, you feel tempted to tell him, “Mm still mad at you.”

He holds onto the edge of the bench, “I know.”

“You really hurt me,” you add.

“I know,” he repeats.

His unwillingness to look at you or give you a better answer has you tearing up, “Are you even sorry?”

He still won’t turn your way, the sink more interesting apparently, “We can talk more tomorrow, it’s late and you’re drunk.”

“I’ve never been more sober in my life,” you argue.

“I somehow doubt that,” is all he says.

You roll your eyes at him, you’ve had enough, “Whatever, thanks again… for picking me up,” you leave the kitchen after that, not willing to stay and let him ignore you more.

You just want to collapse into bed and pretend like everything is fine, you want to pretend you’re back to a couple days ago, when you and Johnny were playing trivial pursuit. You want to think of how kind he was to you yesterday, when you cried in his kitchen while making pancakes and you’re not going to think about how he implied you were interested in sleeping with all your friends and minimised your feelings for him.

Talking to him again is not something you’re looking forward to, not if tonight is anything to go by, he takes up such a large place in your heart and to be treated like this by him feels… shattering. He’s always been so kind to you and to be spoken to like this, it’s devastating, you want to understand but you also want him to leave you alone for a bit, you’re not certain you’re ready to listen to whatever he has to say.

In your very slowly sobering state, you manage to get yourself into the shower and fresh pyjamas, having to do this tomorrow while hungover is going to be hell so your sober-self better be grateful to drunk you because this is far too much effort when you’d rather be curled up in bed crying over a stupid boy.

✰ ✰ ✰

Banging sounds in the kitchen jolt you awake, your head pounding from the hangover you’re currently sporting. The clanging not helping your current state at all, your eyes squint against the minimal light seeping into the room. The furrow set in your brow not helping the pain in your head, you must look incredibly angry right now… and remembering yesterday… yeah, you are incredibly angry right now.

Groaning you flop onto your side and notice that Johnny must’ve come in earlier because there’s some ibuprofen and water sitting on the nightstand next to the bed. You hate how thoughtful he’s being after saying some pretty thoughtless things, he’s not being fair to you at all. Just to get your ducks in a row, he implied you wanted to sleep with your friends, devalued your feelings for him, gave you the silent treatment, got upset that you left the house, wouldn’t talk to you last night, and then again disregarded you all while knowing he had hurt your feelings… yeah, you’re pissed.

Talking right now, or today, might be a bad idea, you’re not in the best headspace, whatever reason he has may not be enough for you. Ignoring the ache in your bones and head, you get up and pack away your bags, stuffing everything in haphazardly, staying here… might not be best for either of you. Being in a home with someone who is upset at you but not willing to speak about it… makes you uncomfortable, you were already worried about overstaying your welcome when things were good… now it feels almost unbearable.

You are thankful to drunk you for getting clean last night, it’ll make leaving easier, you change out of your pyjamas and crack open the door to scope out the area, double checking he’s not in the way. He doesn’t seem to be in the main areas, you think you may be able to leave without him noticing. Grabbing your bag, you quietly shuffle to the front door, it feels ridiculous, like you’re attempting to pull off some great heist, it’s not lost on you how stupid you’re being but you’re hurt, mad, and hungover, you get to be a little stupid.

“What are you doing?” Johnny’s voice makes you jump in place, you hadn’t even heard him approach you.

Slowly, you spin to face him, “…Nothing?”

His eyes look you over before focusing on the bag you’re holding, “Really? Because it looks like you’re trying to leave without saying goodbye.”

“Well, I just thought… after yesterday… it may be better if I leave… quietly,” your head is too sore to be standing here talking about this right now.

He frowns at you, his hands on his hips, annoyed by your choice, “Better for who? I don’t want you to leave and I never said that I did.”

“You haven’t said anything actually,” you point out, you don’t even know why he cares if you stay, he’s the one who started the ‘argument’ or whatever this is.

He sidesteps your statement, instead asking, “Where are you gonna go?”

You roll your head and look away, “Back to mine… probably.”

“While your ex is out there… actively stalking you?” His tone is dubious.

He’s annoying you with his logic, “I don’t know, Johnny, all I know is that you’re not talking to me and I don’t feel welcome here.” You’re starting to tear up and you curse yourself for it, “I was already hesitant to stay here and now you don’t look at me and when you do, you look so… angry and I don’t know why. I don’t know what I’ve done to upset you so much.”

He’s quiet and it seems like he’s not going to say anything… again. You sigh and turn to the front door, choosing to leave anyways but Johnny grabs your wrist, stopping you, “Don’t leave… please.”

You close your eyes for a moment, the light hurting your head, You turn back to him, waiting for him to continue talking; he lets go of your wrist when he’s certain you’re not going to walk away.

He adds, “I’m not upset at you–”

“–It feels like you are.” You interrupt.

He’s beginning to get exasperated, “I’m angry with myself, I’m pissed off and I took it out on you, and I’m annoyed that I did, I want to talk to you about this, I want to explain.”

“Explain then! I’ve given you chances to explain and all you do is stand there silently, I want to be able to forgive you,” you sigh at him again, “You’ve fucked up, if you were anyone else… I would’ve walked away already but I want you to give me the chance to forgive you.”

“I got pissed when I saw you with that– with Michael, it wasn’t rational but it made me realise… people your age are interested in you, there are people out there that are better for you… I– I had already known that… I just didn’t expect…” He’s getting pissed again, you can tell by the way he crosses his arms and his mouth pulls down into a scowl, “I didn’t expect the anger I would feel at seeing you with someone else, I didn’t… the idea of you being with someone else, of someone else touching you how I have, it makes me physically sick.”

You take a deep breath, “So… because you got jealous… you implied I wanted to sleep with my friends and ignored me when I told you I liked you?”

He looks like he wants to touch you, his fingers thrumming against his bicep, fidgeting, “I wasn’t thinking properly, I’m so sorry, doll.”

Your shoulders drop, your bag slipping, “I don’t know… how to react to this–”

He cuts you off to add, “–I like you too, a lot.”

His words make your heart skip a beat but you hold steady, “You can’t say that and expect me to just forgive you.”

He moves closer to you, “I know, that’s not why I said it.”

“I’m not forgiving you.”

“That’s okay,” he hums, “Can I touch you?”

This man does not play fair, “I–”

He touches you anyways, his hand holds the side of your face before he pulls you to him, hugging you tightly, “I am really sorry… I don’t feel good enough for you, you deserve better, you deserve more but I can’t help but feel incredibly selfish because the idea of someone else having you… it literally drives me crazy, doll.”

Being held by him, regretfully, has you feeling so much better, your bag properly drops from your shoulder, and you hug him back, missing his warmth. “You were mean.”

“I’m sorry,” he replies.

“I’d had such a bad day and all I wanted was to tell you about it,” your eyes start welling with tears.

He repeats, “I’m sorry.”

“I missed you,” you sniffle out.

His head leans down to you, nosing at your cheek, “I missed you, too.” You move to pull back, but his hands hold you still, one of them grasping your face, his lips brush against yours before he pulls back himself to say, “You know, I was also seriously concerned for your safety, I came home and you still weren’t back and I had no messages from you, nothing letting me know you were okay.”

You suppose, you can apologise for that much, “And for that, I am sorry.”

“I forgive you… this time.” He jokes, taking it lightly.

You look at him carefully, considering everything, “Johnny, I need to know what we’re doing.”

He’s confused by your sudden question, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, are we more than friends?” You need clarity, after having none for so long, you just need to know what the hell you’re doing.

His brows furrow and he pretends to think really hard, “Considering I’ve made you cum multiple times and stuck my tongue in your mouth… I’d consider you more than a friend.”

You groan and roll your eyes at him, pushing him back by his shoulder, it barely moves him, his hands instead grabbing your face and pulling you to him. He takes your lips in his own, his kiss full and passionate, it takes you by surprise and you make a small sound reminiscent of a whine.

He presses his forehead to yours, “Do you wanna be my girl?”

“Ugh, corny,” you complain but you hate how badly you want that.

He chuckles lightly, pressing kisses to your lips again, “I want you to be.”

You’re not fully paying attention, temporarily distracted by his kisses, “Mmm... Sorry, what?”

He simplifies, “Mine, I want you to be mine.”

You agree easily, “Okay.”

A smile spreads across his lips and then he moves to press kisses all over your face, “Does this mean I’m forgiven?”

“Somewhat,” you answer cryptically, mostly because you’re annoyed by how easily he fixed everything.

“I’ll take it,” he breathes out a laugh.

You wince involuntarily, your head still pounding, your body reminding you of your adventures last night and the consequences that come along with them, “I need to lay back down.”

Johnny’s tone is worried, his hands hold onto your shoulders, putting some distance between you both to look you over, “Are you okay?”

You deadpan back, “Yeah… you’re just exhausting.”

“Not nice,” he complains.

You smile cheekily at him, “I’m kidding… mostly,” he forces a smile back at you and you laugh lightly, “I’m hungover… I just wanna lay back down and die."

"Bit dramatic don’t you think?” He asks.

You glare at him, “Says you.”

He raises his hands in a placating manner, “Completely correct, let’s get you back in bed hmm?”

The rest of your day is spent recuperating in bed, you’re in and out of sleep, sometimes only ever up long enough to eat or drink something. Johnny brings you… way too many snacks but he insisted on you eating, it was nice and also so much for your pounding head, you ended up asking him to leave you alone to rot for the day, which he reluctantly did. You think he’s still concerned you’ve not forgiven him and if you’re telling yourself the truth, while you really want to forgive him, it’s not that easy and your heart sits heavy, the ache he caused not forgotten.

You’re going to try really hard to move forward though because you can understand, while he didn’t go about it well… at all, he’s struggling with his feelings for you and you can understand that much. It also wouldn’t have helped that tension would’ve been high for him, with you out later than expected, no messages, only to find you and see you with a stranger, while your ex lurks in the background… hmmm, maybe Johnny held it together better than you’re giving him credit for.

✰ ✰ ✰

It’s late in the evening when you wake up properly, your heart racing as you sit up suddenly, you can’t quite remember what your dream was of but you remember it was not pleasant. Anxiety crawls up your spine and you think it may have had something to do with your ex, the unease that sits in the pit of your stomach reminds you of the way you felt while at work. You hug yourself, rocking back and forth for a moment, trying to calm down… it’s not helping.

Crawling out of bed, you head the few doors down to get to Johnny’s room, wanting to seek comfort from him. You knock lightly, trying to see if he’s awake, it’s late though so you doubt he’d still be up. You consider entering his room and waking him up anyways but you aren’t sure he’s been sleeping well lately so you turn around and head for the lounge room instead.  

You grab the remote off the coffee table before flopping onto the couch, laying on your side, completely stretched out, you aren’t going to be able to sleep anymore so you might as well find something to watch and get comfortable. There isn’t much on at this time of night though, nothing good anyways.

Somehow, you find yourself heavily invested in the channel that only sells things, all advertisements for stuff that nobody feasibly needs or would use more than once but for some reason, you are completely involved in what the man is waffling on about. Why yes, you definitely do need a little bear named ‘Tiddy Bear’ for your seatbelt so it’s less annoying… you don’t own a car.

You’ve somehow become so absorbed in the crap commercials that you jump slightly when Johnny leans over you from behind the couch, “Holy– Don’t do that,” you gasp.

His voice is deep with sleep, “Sorry sweetness… but what the fuck are you watching?”

You state simply, “Tiddy bear,” and then point at the television.

Johnny sleepily looks where you’re pointing, squinting against the bright light, “…Right,” you can practically see the thought enter his head as soon as he thinks it, “You know… I could always be you–”

You groan at him, “–Shuddup!”

He laughs as he looks down at you, “You don’t even know what I was gonna say!”

“I’m fairly certain I did,” you raise a brow at him.

He wears a lazy smile as he rounds the couch, he taps your legs and you tuck them up so he can sit beside you. Once he’s seated, he pulls your legs into his lap so you’re stretched out again. His hands absentmindedly massage your calves, he watches the advertisement with you for a bit, a new one playing, something called the wearable towel, it looks like a dress… but towel material.

Johnny frowns at the infomercial, confused, “Seriously, doll, what the fuck are we watching?”

“Well, I couldn’t sleep, so I was watching some tv and somehow got really into the infomercials,” you shrug.

He puts all his attention on you, “Why couldn’t you sleep?”

You shrug again, “It was nothing, just a bad dream.”

You don’t look at him, still watching the lady talk about how annoying traditional towels are, Johnny squeezes your calf so you look at him, “Could’ve woken me up, if you wanted to talk about it.”

You hum at him, “I didn’t want to disturb you, I did knock… on your door, to see if you were awake.”

“Hell, sugar, next time just crawl into bed next to me, I really wouldn’t mind,” he smiles at you and then asks, “What was it about?” He keeps massaging your calves, fingers digging into the muscle, it’s nice.

“I don’t remember… but it was… scary,” you feel embarrassed to admit that, you’re a grown adult, it seems silly to be frightened by a dream.

He considers you for a moment, not really sure on what to say, “Yeah, sometimes it’s like that.”

“I just felt dumb, having a bad dream, it feels childish,” you sigh, frustrated with yourself.

“The feeling was real though, it’s not childish, I’ve had nightmares before.” He rests his head back on the couch, “You’ve had the most stressful time lately… I’m honestly surprised you’ve not had more nightmares.”

You watch him, he’s looking up at the ceiling, “I was scared,” you admit.

“That’s normal–”

“–No, not tonight, I mean at work, when he came in and stayed my whole shift,” Johnny looks to you, his attention focused solely on what you’re about to say, “I was scared but I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of effecting me… so I ignored him and I thought about coming back to you, I thought of how,” you take a breath and look away from him, “I thought of how safe you make me feel.”

He sounds emotional, “I make you feel safe?”

You look back to him, feeling bashful, “Johnny, you feel more like home to me than any place ever has…” You’re nervous, feeling open and vulnerable, but you add, “Yes, you feel safe, you feel like home.”

It feels like he looks at you for too long, his eyes looking over you, full of so many emotions that you can’t read. When he does speak, all he says is, “Move over.”

“What?”

“Move over, I’m getting in beside you,” he starts shuffling to lay down next to you on the couch.

You laugh, “Johnny, there is not enough room.”

“Yeah there is, lemme in,” he continues to lay down.

You roll your eyes but shuffle back as much as you can on the couch, your body close to slipping off the furniture entirely. He lays down on his side next to you, his arm coming around you, tugging you close and supporting you so you don’t fall off.  

You look up at him, “Why are we doing this?”

He huffs at you, “I wanted to cuddle with you.”

He looks sleepy right now, it’s endearing, “Why so suddenly though?”

“You said something cute and it made me happy,” he presses his face into the crook of your neck, his breath against you makes your skin prick, “I’m glad I make you feel safe… and I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, having him at your place of work… I should’ve been there.”

“I don’t blame you for that, I didn’t tell you,” you reach up and comb your fingers through his hair, “I– I wanted to call you but I worry so much… I worry about how much I burden you.”

He presses a soft kiss to your neck, it sends a shiver down your spine; he pulls back to look at you properly, his arm holding you as close as he can, “You aren’t a burden to me,” he holds intense eye contact with you, trying to show you how serious he is with one look.

“I just don’t want to worry you with silly things,” you tuck your head into his chest.

He vibrates with a hum, “Well, for starters, being scared of your freaky ex who is stalking you… is decidedly not silly, secondly, I’d much rather you tell me about the silly things, I want you to tell me everything that worries you, I want to help… can’t do that if you don’t confide in me, sweetness.”

“I’ll talk to you more… but you have to promise to do the same, you keep so many things to yourself and I want to support you, however I can,” you mumble into his shirt.

His tone is light as he agrees, “Deal, now can I make out with you, or is this an inappropriate time to ask?”

You scoff at him but pull back and press a gentle kiss to his lips, he groans as you move back too soon, “All you get,” you snicker.

“Not kind at all,” He complains.

You give him another quick kiss, “Funny though.”

“So funny,” he repeats humourlessly, scowl on his face.

You laugh at him and his hand moves up your body to the back of your head, his mouth crashing onto yours, the sudden contact takes you by surprise. You sigh against him and he licks into your mouth, his kiss deep. Your leg moves to hook around his waist, pulling your lower half closer to his, he groans into the kiss, his hand moves from the back of your head, down your front and under your shirt. He gropes at your chest, fingers pinching your nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger.

He moves his head down to your chest, pulling your shirt up and enveloping your nipple in the warmth of his mouth. His tongue flicks at you and you push towards him, soft sighs slip past your lips, your mind hazy. He bites at you lightly, his forehead resting against your sternum, he presses his face between your tits and sucks a hickey into the skin between them, his hand back to pawing at you.

He sighs against you, and then your world is spinning, he’s sitting up and taking you with him, you end up straddling him. His hands trail your body, tugging your shirt up and off your head, you lift your arms to help him. He leans forward and begins to leave more hickeys on you, marking your chest completely, your fingers thread through his hair, pleasured sighs leaving you.

He mumbles into your skin, “Take your pants off.”

You pull him back by his hair, “Excuse me?”

“Please?” He smiles at you. You look at him sceptically but he only continues to smile at you, “I’ll make it worth your while, promise.”

You concede and hop off his lap, pulling your pants off, you go to sit back on him but he tuts at you, “What?” You ask.

“Panties. Off.” His eyes are looking directly at your underwear, waiting for them to be gone.

You sway side to side, feeling timid but you comply and slip the garment down your legs, Johnny smiles brightly as you do as he asked. He makes grabby hands at you and you move closer to him, he grabs you and positions you over one of his thighs.

You’re a little confused, “What are you doi–”

“–Want you to ride my thigh, doll,” his hands encourage you to straddle his thigh properly.

“Johnny… that’s embarrassing,” you pout at him slightly.

“What happened to my eager little thing hmmm?” He grips your hips and starts dragging you back and forth on the material of his pants, “Promise it’ll feel good.”

You twitch on him slightly, it feels depraved to rut into his thigh while he watches but you start grinding down onto him lightly, your movements still uncertain. Johnny’s hands help facilitate your movements, wanting to see you do it yourself but also wanting control of the situation. Your cunt begins leaking onto him, the material of his sleep pants darkening under you, shudders run down your back and muffled whimpers get caught in your throat.

Your hands reach up to his shoulders, holding onto him to ground yourself, your fingers digging into his skin. His eyes watch how your pussy grinds into his thigh, smile still present on his face, absorbed in how you’re getting his leg all slick, the grey of his sweats now a dark grey. The friction the material of his pants give you is driving you insane, your need clawing up your spine, Johnny can tell you’re getting needier, based on how your eyes get glassy and your hips rut down into him more freely.

“There ya fuckin go, thas a good girl,” he comments.

His hands push you into his thigh firmer, the sudden change has you moaning out to him. You fall forward and tuck into his neck, your whimpers are breathed against him and he grunts at how wet you’re making his pants, at the little noises you’re making against him. You’re doing a lot of the work yourself at the moment, in the back of your mind you’re embarrassed at how you hump down onto him, at how damp you’re getting everything but Johnny seems so fucking pleased about it all.

You twitch into him and moan at the friction on your clit, the sound spurs him on, his hands grip your hips tightly and he moves you back and forth on his thigh quickly, your slick making the slide obscenely easy. Johnny’s own eyes are glassy, dizzy from how much you’re leaking on him, he moves one hand to pull your head back to look at him, he’s in awe of the fucked out look on your face.

“Mmm you always make the prettiest faces for me,” he compliments before taking your lips in his.

The kiss is messy, his lips demanding and desperate, his tongue in your mouth searching, consuming. He swallows down all the sounds you make for him, his own sounds shared in the kiss, when you part for a moment, strings of your saliva connect your mouths together. The evidence of how depraved in manner he kisses you sets you on fire, a whimper pulled from your chest. He smiles lazily at you, his thumb rubs over your lips, spreading your shared spit over them.

He pushes his thumb into your mouth and you take it, sucking on it gently, his eyes look wild as he watches you, “Need you to cum on my thigh, sugar.”

Your eyebrows pull up at him, your cunt clenching on nothing, your fingers dig into him as you continue to rock back and forth on him. Your stomach tensing, he pulls his thumb from your mouth and runs it down your chin, sternum, torso, all the way down to your clit, his thumb rubs circles into you, it makes you twitch against him. Johnny closes his eyes and seemingly remembers his goal very suddenly because he grabs you tightly again and starts forcefully dragging you back and forth, his leg bouncing, adding to the stimulation.

You gasp out to him, “Hah– Johnny~”

“Jus take it like this, cum like this, want it all over my leg, doll, want it stained into my fuckin pants.” His eyes are honed in on your cunt again, involved in how you’re dripping on him, how easy you slide on him.

Your voice pitches higher, “Johnny– I– mmph–”

He encourages you, already knowing, “Go on, soak my thigh, sweetness.”

You gasp and shudder against him, your hips desperately grinding down into him, your high so close. Johnny’s intense, greedy gaze on you is what undoes you, you twitch on him as you cum, pathetic whimpers sound from you as you rut down into his leg, he supports you as you finish, helping you ride out your high, feeding you praises about how well you did and how cute you look.

Once you’ve come down though, he keeps moving you into him, enjoying the way your body jolts in sensitivity at the action. You slump forward into him, small whines leaving your lips as he overstimulates you. He turns his face into your neck and lightly bites you, your cunt clamps down onto nothing, the pain shoots straight to your drenched pussy, a sad little moan slipping from you.

Johnny’s hands rub up and down your back, soothing you, “How you think you’re ever gonna be able to take my dick when you get fucked out this easily is beyond me.”

“I could take it,” you argue.

You can feel his smile against your skin, “I’m not so sure.” He pulls your face back so he can see you properly, “Yeah… I’ve missed that.”

You’re kind of hazy, mind making static noise, “Missed what?”

His smile turns devilish, “That cute little fucked out look you get on your face when I make you cum, a sight for sore eyes, doll.” You don’t get to say anything back, he picks you up and carries you with him back to his room, “Bet you’ll sleep fuckin fantastic now.”

You giggle against him because yeah, this might’ve done the trick.

✰ ✰ ✰

When you wake in the morning, you’re alone in Johnny’s bed, you lay still for a few more moments, enjoying the warmth of his large bed. You assume he’s gone to work; he’s probably messaged you but your phone is in the guest room and you don’t really feel like moving right now. You feel warm and safe wrapped up in his sheets, sleeping next to him was the best you had slept in weeks and you think he’s going to have to put up with you being in his bed more often now.

Eventually, after a few more moments of tossing around in his bed, you get up and wander down the hall to grab your phone. You were right, he had texted you saying where he was, he had to head in early and didn’t want to wake you. He should be back at a normal time though so you’re happy for that, it gets lonely in his big apartment.

You also have a message from your manager, telling you that you’ve got a few more days off… which is, surprising to say the least. Michael might have had something to do with that, which is kind but you need to figure out a long-term plan, on if you want to stay or go. Ideally, your ex would leave you alone, or the cops would arrest him for trashing your apartment but seeing as how they’re not all that useful, you don’t really know what to do.

At least now you have a few more days to consider your options, you were not looking forward to your afternoon shift. You’ll have to thank Michael next time you’re on with him, you don’t know what he said but you’re trusting that he didn’t divulge anything too personal, you didn’t even want to tell him about your ex, it was just unavoidable.

The day is uneventful for the most part, you clean the kitchen and guest room, you also make Johnny’s bed, you’re still a guest, it’s only polite that you clean up after yourself. There isn’t much else for you to do though, so you’re back on the couch, scrolling your socials and watching something inane as background noise. It shouldn’t be too much longer until Johnny gets back, you’re hoping anyways, you’re bored and want to talk to him regarding what you should do about your ex.

Speaking of… a text from that awful little man comes through, you forgot you hadn’t blocked him, you click on the notification and read it. Obviously, it’s all senseless anger, mostly name calling, not at all pleasant to read but after having him trash your home, this is not as scary as it would’ve been a while ago. You consider blocking him but then you think, this may help you actually.

He continues blowing up your phone on and off all afternoon, you end up silencing his messages so you can use your phone without being yelled at through the screen. It shouldn’t be but some of the messages are hilariously laughable, the fact you were with him for a whole year and he was like this? It’s almost inconceivable to you, how could you miss so much of his problem behaviour and why has he gotten so stuck on you.

One of his messages in particular sticks with you, ‘I deserved better.’ It makes you scoff, what a jackass. The rest aren’t as funny, they’re threatening and abusive and if you spent all your time reading them it would probably induce a panic attack.

Brushing it off, you put your phone down and involve yourself in the show you had put on hours ago, whatever his problem is, is not your fault and you shouldn’t bend over backwards trying to understand the motivations of someone so clearly mentally unstable. It’s not your fault, it’s something you have to repeat to yourself, so you don’t forget… because it’s not your fault and you won’t let him make you think that it is.

The front door rattles as Johnny unlocks it and walks into the apartment, you call out to him, “Welcome back!”

His shoes clack against the floors as he walks to where you are, “Hey, doll,” he pats the top of your head from behind the couch.

You bend your neck to look back at him, “How was your day?”

“…Annoying but thankfully shorter than some others,” he smiles at you, “How was your day?”

“Good, uneventful for the most part… well except…” You trail off as you watch him.

He steps over the back of the couch, it’s quite the show how his footing wobbles a bit on the plush cushions, you give him a quizzical look as he sits beside you, “What? Couldn’t be bothered to walk round.”

Laughing and shaking your head, you say, “You would’ve expended more effort climbing the couch than walking around it.”

He brushes you off, “Yeah whatever, just tell me about your day, what were you gonna say?”

Were you going to say something, “Hmm?”

“Uneventful day, except…?” He prompts.

You begin, “Ah, yeah, my ex started blowing up my phone, harassing me today–”

Johnny’s face twists into a disgusted scowl, “–You’ve not blocked him?”

You squint at him, silently admonishing him for interrupting you before you could finish, “Well, I had honestly forgotten to, he hadn’t even reached out until now but I think it may be helpful, in getting a restraining order on him, that way I can go to work and if he shows up the cops will actually have to do something about it.”

He considers your words for a moment, “Hmm, not a bad idea, want my help with that?”

“Please,” you smile sweetly at him.

He pinches your cheek and tugs lightly, “Of course, though…” he lets go of your cheek and you rub at it, “…I would prefer he were dead.”

You can’t help but laugh at the abruptness of his statement, “Right, well… I guess you’ll just have to settle for this.”

“Whatever makes life easier for you, doll,” he opens his arms for you to hug into his side, which you do.

He wraps his arms around you and holds you tight, you sigh against him, “I really just want him to leave me alone, so I can forget about him and move on, I don’t want to confront him, I don’t want to fight him, I just want to be left alone.”

“I understand that, we’ll make it happen,” he kisses the top of your head and you believe him.

You cuddle on the couch for a bit, enjoying his comfort but then your phone rings, checking the screen you see it’s a friend from college, “I should take this,” you tell Johnny.

He nods at you easily and lets you get up.

Taking your phone, you walk off to the guest room to get some privacy, “Hey! It’s been a while, what’s up?”

Her voice is chirpy through the phone, “It has been and nothing much, I just wanted to see if you were free to come round mine tomorrow? I need help with an assignment for that one class… with that one professor…”

You can practically feel how her eyes glaze over, you’ve already taken the class and catch on immediately, “Yeah I’m more than happy to help, I’m not sure how much help I’ll be… I’m still surprised I passed.”

She laughs from the other end, “But you did and at this rate, I’m closer to running away and living by the seaside on an isolated island than I am to passing this course.”

“Well then, I can be around tomorrow? Like, maybe midday? Can’t have you moving away, you’re like the only college friend I have… that I like.”

“Sounds good and I feel exactly the same about you,” you both share another giggle but she trails off, “…Have you been okay?”

You’re a bit confused by her sudden question, “Yeah I’ve been all good, why?”

She seems hesitant, like she’s not sure how to word what she wants to say, “Well… I’ve been hearing some… things… about you and it’s got me a little confused.”

You frown, “What kind of things?”

She sighs, “People in our circle have been saying you were cheating on your ex and that you’re broken up?”

“I mean we are broken up… but I did not cheat on him, I ended things with him for different reasons but if anyone cheated in that relationship, it was definitely him,” your fingers pinch the bridge of your nose, you have a feeling you already know who’s spreading the rumours.

“Yeah, I didn’t believe it but it’s really odd… that people are saying that, I always thought he was a little… freaky, so I got worried hearing about the rumours.”

You huff quietly, mostly to yourself, “Thanks for asking though… and not just assuming,”

“I like to think I know you well enough to discern what rumours are and aren’t true,” she lightly chuckles and it makes you smile.

Scratching the back of your neck, you ask, “A lot has happened but I can tell you about it all tomorrow?”

“I’d like that, you know I’m always here for you right?”

“I know,” you smile lopsidedly, you think you may need to get better at confiding in others.

You both share your goodbyes and hang up, you’re glad she reached out to you, honestly, if she wasn’t campus living and you didn’t have Johnny, you probably would have stayed with her, she’s one of the closest friends you have. It’ll be nice, telling a friend about everything.

Distantly you wonder how long the rumours have been running around and if this may be why you got ditched by those girls at the party and still haven’t heard from them, even after messaging them asking if they were okay.

This is such a frustrating position to be in but you think, if anyone believes the rumours without even asking you about them then they aren’t people you really want to be friends with anyways, doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt though.  The only thing you’re really worried about is if Johnny is included in the rumours, you don’t want to ruin his career, or hurt his image, at the moment the rumour doesn’t seem to mention him but you don’t know how long it will stay like that.

You waddle through the apartment and stand in front of Johnny, “There are rumours about me circling,” you pout.

“What?” He’s confused and you don’t blame him.

You slump onto the couch, your shoulder bumping into his, “Saying I cheated on my ex and that’s why we are broken up.”

He grunts, “What a load of bullshit,” his arm comes around you, pulling you close, “Are you okay?”

Sighing, you say, “Yeah, I mean, if people believe it that’s not my fault, I’m just so exhausted, it feels like it’s one awful thing after another at the moment.”

He turns to you and kisses the side of your head, “Would you feel better if I fucked you?”

Your voice feels small, “Yes.”

“That’s too bad,” he smiles against you.

You pout at him, “Don’t kick me when I’m down.”

He chuckles, “How about I cook you dinner instead?”

You smile at him, “That would be nice too, I guess.”

“Could you help?” He’s worried about it not being edible.

You let out an airy laugh, “Sure.”

✰ ✰ ✰

When you had told Johnny you were going out today to see a friend, he couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed, he has today off and he was hoping to spend it with you. He wasn’t about to stop you though, you need to see your friends, he’s glad to see you’re willing to talk to someone else about this. Sometimes, he worries that if he hadn’t heard your ex over the phone that first time, you wouldn’t have told him anything and that’s a scary thought to him.

He's left in the apartment alone and he’s bored, you’ve not even been gone long and he feels like a dog waiting for its owner to come home. Maybe he should feel a little pathetic about it but he’s pretty happy about where is, he’s scared… about the future but he’s also looking forward to his relationship with you. All he has to do is keep himself busy until you get back and he’s golden.

Some of your clothes are piled in his room, ever since he took you to bed with him a couple nights ago, you’ve been sleeping in here with him instead. Not that he minds, in fact, he’s got the opposite of complaints, the fact that you’re staying close to him and confiding in him, it makes him ridiculously happy.

The bag filled with your clothes sits on the floor in the corner, you’ve been here for a while now and you still won’t unpack, that bothers him. He won’t unpack for you, that’s invasive and will also probably upset you but he will pick up the clothes you left on the floor this morning, he’s just going to take them down the hall so they can get cleaned with his but as he picks them up, your panties slip from the pile.

He feels so ridiculously ashamed of how incredibly quickly his dick chubs up at seeing just your underwear, they’re cute… and now he’s thinking of you in them and nothing but. He rolls his shoulders and looks up to the ceiling, trying to ignore the growing ache in his cock but now all he can think about is you and how wet and needy you get for him.

Shamefully, he drops everything onto the ground and picks up your panties, his mind running wild. He feels like a fucking creep how he shoves them into his face and inhales deeply, his mouth salivating, he wishes you were home, he wants to fuck you with his tongue, it feels heavy in his mouth as his need grows.

His other hand slides down his body and undoes his belt before unbuttoning his slacks, he shoves his hand into his pants and groans as he grabs himself over his underwear. Your scent overwhelms his senses and he can’t hold off, he tugs his boxers and pants down, only enough so his cock is free, he’s desperate now, his dick twitching in need.

If he weren’t so stupefied by his thoughts of you, he’d probably recognise this as the creepy behaviour it is but right now he doesn’t care, he didn’t get to cum the other night after making you finish on his thigh and he’s been hesitant to try anything since but he’s so wound up it’s insane. After you had fallen asleep next to him that night, he’d pitifully moaned when he squeezed the base of his cock, just to get some kind of relief.

He's honestly not sure how long he’ll be able to hold off on fucking you, he wants it to be special for you, he wants it to be memorable, he doesn’t want to be just some guy you give your virginity to and regret… but in saying that… the need that claws at his insides every time he makes your pretty, cunt cum for him, is getting harder to control.

His hand not holding your panties grips onto the dresser for balance, his other hand reaches down to his cock, his tip leaks precum into your underwear, they’re soft as he moves them with his fist up and down his shaft. He sighs pathetically at the feeling of jerking off into your panties, his mind reeling with what it would be like to taste you, he wants to cum inside you and then lick you clean. His head falls back and he groans at the thought, his muscles twitch as he thinks of how pathetically you’d whine for him, your complacency with all the filthy things he does to you always makes his head spin.

With the amount he’s leaking into your panties, the glide is easy and his hand speeds up, a gasped grunt escaping him. He’s already on the edge of cumming just from thinking about tongue fucking you, he talks big game about you not being able to take him but he’s concerned that as soon as he sinks balls deep in you, he’s going to cum.

His chin falls to his chest and he watches how he fucks into your panties, his eyes are glazed over and his hand moves faster, he needs to cum, he knows it won’t satisfy him, not how he wants but if he doesn’t see your underwear coated in his cum, he thinks he may die. He thinks of you watching him cum into your panties, how embarrassed and turned on you’d be, it drives him wild and his cock jerks as he shoots his load into the fabric of your underwear. He groans deeply, his hips spasming, thrusting forward to ride out the euphoria.

He sighs, temporarily satisfied but his thoughts are still plagued by complete filth, he wants to make your pussy a complete mess for him. He wipes up his cum with your panties and tugs his pants back up, he’s going to need to calm down, he can wait for you to get home.

✰ ✰ ✰

The uber back to Johnny’s is boring, you’d had a good time with your friend though, you both pulled your hair out over the assignment and over your ex… but it was good, talking to someone. She was supportive and kind and she’s offered to sneak you into campus living with her if you need, which made you giggle. You told her about your plans to hopefully get a restraining order though, so you think you should be fine to go home soon.

It turns out, those girls… the ones you were at the party with, they’re apparently helping feed the flames of the rumour going around about you. At least you weren’t all that close to them, they just gave you a reason to go out and get drunk for a night. Whatever, you don’t want to put any more energy into all this, you’re going to go back to Johnny’s, you’re going to hang out with him and you’re going to trust that the court will let you get a restraining order against your ex.

When you get back to Johnny’s, it’s eerily quiet, you were expecting him to be watching a movie or listening to music… anything but it’s silent in the apartment and it’s freaking you out a little bit. Walking further into the main living area, you place your bag down and continue to wander around, looking for him.

You call out for him, “Johnny?”

He stumbles out of his room pretty quickly at the sound of your voice, “You’re back! How was it? Did you have fun?”

You squint at him a bit, his mannerisms odd, “…Yeah, it was good, I’ve missed her so it was nice… catching up.”

He fidgets in front of you a bit, like he’s antsy, like this is all a formality and he doesn’t really care, “That’s good! I’m glad you met up with her, I’ve been worried about you a bit lately…” His eyes roam over you, his fingers tapping against his skin.

“…Johnny?” He hums at you in reply and you ask, “Are you okay? You seem… on edge.”

His eyes flick back to yours, “Yeah, doll, I’m groovy, easy going,” he gives you a big cartoonish smile, it’s a little strained.

Frowning, you walk closer to examine him and he intakes a small, sharp breath, “Are you sure? Because you’re really twitchy right now.”

“Did anything else happen? Do you want to talk?” He’s clearly changing the subject.

You decide to let him, “No? I’m fine, we talked, I helped her with her assignment, nothing special,” you shrug at him.

“Okay, good,” is all he says in response. Just as you’re about to ask him what he means by that, his hands are on you, pulling you close, his mouth hovering right over yours, “I missed you, sweetness… bad.”

Your voice shakes slightly, the proximity getting to you, making your skin all hot, “I’ve not been gone lo– mmph–”

He cuts you off, his lips on yours are demanding, his kiss searing, like he’s been waiting his whole life to kiss you like this. You reach up and grab a hold of his shirt, hands fisting the fabric, trying to ground yourself. His hands are on you… everywhere, they grope and pull at the skin of your hips, at the fabric of your shirt, even palming your breasts, his touch is heated and needy, it’s making you dizzy. A small, whimpered moan leaves you involuntarily and he takes the chance to lick into your mouth, deepening the kiss.

With how he’s kissing you and how he’s touching you, your faculties are eluding you, your mind foggy. You’re the one to pull back first, needing air. Resting your forehead against his chest, you catch your breath and attempt to think straight again. Which is, surprisingly difficult, your eyes feel wet, everything about you feels malleable right now, he could probably say the stupidest thing on Earth and you’d still be weak in the knees with hearts in your eyes.

You lightly giggle against him, “Feeling needy?”

He grunts at you, “Doll, you got no fuckin clue.”

You think you may have some clue, “Bold statement coming from the man who still won’t fuck me even after I have asked so nicely, so many times.”

He rolls his eyes at you, only a little bit amused, you’re waiting for his smartass reply when he suddenly picks you up and throws you over his shoulder, walking back to his room with you.

“Wow, talk about desperate,” you joke.

“Keep talking, sweetness, enjoy the upper hand while you can still talk coherently,” he drops you onto his mattress, his form standing over you from the foot of the bed.

You know he’s right, and yet, the need to challenge him like he doesn’t render you speechless from a kiss hits you anyways, “Cocky, much?”

“Could say the same thing to you, at least mine isn’t false confidence,” he winks at you and begins unbuttoning his shirt.

You lean on your elbows and watch him intently, his skin slowly being revealed to you, he’s being a tease on purpose. Summoning your courage, you tug your pants down your legs and toss them off the bed, not stopping, you tug your shirt off completely too, your bra following not long after. Johnny stops what he’s doing, his shirt fully undone but still on.

Smiling up at him, you ask, “Something wrong, sugar?”

He rolls his head back, a sigh coming from him, “Feeling mean today?” He asks, shrugging his shirt off his shoulders.

“Only a little bit,” you’re honestly a little bit shocked with yourself, you feel nervous and exposed.

He climbs onto the mattress and you shuffle back as he moves up, his form large over yours, he leans down and places a hot kiss on your lips, “Gonna stick my tongue in your pretty pussy, babe.”

Somehow, the crudeness of his words always shock you, “Okay.”

His smile at your reply is wolfish, giving you one last kiss before he’s moving back down the bed and pushing his face into your panties. You squeak and jump at the feeling, he only hums against you, seemingly pleased at your reaction.

“Wanted to put my mouth on you all day,” he mumbles against your core.

You can only gasp in reply, his mouth opening and latching onto your cunt over your underwear, his tongue wetting the fabric, his nose rubbing into your clit. His hands hold you open and you fall flat onto the bed, not able to hold yourself up. When he detaches it’s only to pull your panties down your legs and off, his eyes are wild and he stumbles over his movements in his rush.

He's right back in between your legs as soon as he can be, his mouth not wasting anytime in how he immediately licks at you, fucking his tongue into your hole. A hand reaches down and threads through his hair, you give it a light tug and he moans against you. Your back arches for him, hips moving against his face slightly, your body moving on its own accord.

Johnny’s own hips covertly rut into the bed below, his senses overtaken by you, how you smell and taste, it’s making him dizzy, he’s been looking forward to this all day. He’s practically drooling into your cunt, his skin on fire, how you writhe and twitch on the mattress isn’t helping. Knowing he’s making you a needy, whimpering mess is making his cock ache even worse than it did this morning.

You’re gasping and whining for him and he moans into your pussy, his hips humping into the mattress in a more obvious manner as his desperation grows. His hands push on the back of your thighs, lifting your legs up and giving himself more access to your gooey cunt. He’s eating you like he might die if he doesn’t, like you’re his only salvation and you’re already so close to cumming for him because of it.

The grip you have on his hair tightens and he borderline whimpers into you, his movements not ceasing, if anything they pick up, his tongue moving quicker. Your stomach twitches and pulls, your orgasm fast approaching, Johnny can tell, he knows by how slick you get, how pitched your whines get.

You want to tell him, “Johnny, mmm–”

He grunts into your cunt, already aware and actively trying to have you finishing on his tongue, he wants it all. He wants you to cum directly into his mouth, he wants to drink it all down and then he wants to shove his tongue in your mouth and make you suck on it, tasting yourself through him. His cock twitches in his pants, his mind moving a million miles a minute, shamefully, he’s close to cumming in his pants.

Suddenly, he shakes his head against you, his nose moving over your clit, the stimulation shocks your orgasm from you, stumbled syllables vaguely reminiscent of Johnny’s name tumble from your lips, sounds that he relishes in, his hips stutter against the mattress as your cum floods his senses. The way your pussy spasms and creams on his tongue undoing him completely, his cum no doubt staining the front of his slacks, shivers running down his spine.

The orgasm he gives you and how taken by surprise you were, renders you wordless and thoughtless, only the sounds of the blood pumping in your ears can be heard, everything else is like white noise. You huff and shake slightly, the buzz in your veins delicious, he was right, about rendering you completely speechless, you knew he would be.

He licks at your pussy a bit longer, until you’re jerking away from him, too sensitive, you close your legs, knees touching, giving yourself some reprieve. Johnny pulls up and off the bed, once he’s standing, he yanks his pants off. You don’t miss the way his slacks and boxers are damp with his cum, he’s made a complete mess of himself.

You feel shy, “You came from that?” You’re completely shocked that he’s managed to finish just from humping the mattress and tongue fucking you.

“Got such a pretty little pussy, I’d cum from watching you play with yourself,” he plays it off easily, not an ounce of shame in his bones at the moment, only a large grin plastered on his face.

The embarrassment his words cause you is immense; your face feels warm and you can’t tell if it’s from your orgasm or what he’s just said. He crawls back on the bed, his cock already hardening again, apparently… he’s not done. His cock is shiny and slick from his own cum, his tip red and already leaking again, it’s making your head spin.

Your voice feels small, you feel small, “Are you gonna fuck me?”

“No.” His answer is dead on, no room for argument, as per usual when it comes to this topic.

“Then what–”

“–Gonna play with you how I like,” he strokes his cock as he looks down at you, “Open your legs, sugar.” You pout slightly, and he rolls his eyes at you, “Come on, sweetness, I’ll make you feel oh so good. Promise.”

You scowl at him lightly but open your legs for him, one of his hands moves to hold you open further. “You said you would fuck me,” you complain.

“I said maybe,” he counters.

He doesn’t wait for you to continue arguing with him, already moving his tip through your folds, he skates against your wet pussy and it has him shivering. He leans down over you, the length of his fat cock resting against your cunt, he holds himself up over you by his forearms. His hips begin slowly grinding down into you, everything is so slick and wet, your skin slipping against each other. He plants a kiss on your lips, his tongue entering your mouth straight away, wanting you to taste yourself. You moan into him, soft sighs also leaving you.

When he pulls back, you try again, “I want you, please.”

He groans, his hips stuttering, “You have me right now.”

“Want you inside me,” you nearly sob.

“Fuck– Not today,” his voice is hoarse.

“Always– mmph– always feel so empty,” your eyes are wet and glassy as you look at him, not so silently pleading, “Ngh– Wan you to fill me, please, Johnny.”

“Fucking– no, hnng– why– god– why do you want your first time to be now? Of all times?” He huffs against your skin, his cock painfully erect, throbbing and leaky for you.

“Don’t care mmph– don’t care when or where, just who,” a tear slips down your cheek, your need practically tearing you apart at the seams.

Johnny nearly whimpers, his cock jerking against you, his tip sliding over your clit makes your skin itch, the desire to be fucked full of him overwhelming you. It’s cruel, it feels heinously cruel how deprived of him you are, is it so much to ask to be so full of him you’re sobbing? You don’t think so, your breath stutters as he continues rocking back and forth between your folds.

“I care when and how,” he bites back, nearly snarling at you.

You share your frustration with him, loose lipped in your pleasure and need, “I jus wan –­ngh– you to fuck me blind, I can’t, I need it– mmph– Johnny please!”

He actually does whimper this time, “Fuck– doll, you can’t– don’t do this to me,” he’s in such a weak state today, his desperation for you driving him insane.

The way you’re begging for him to stuff you full of his dick, is going to kill him, he already wants so badly to feel your tight, wet cunt wrapped around him but he wants to do it right. Your begging is chipping away at his resolve, his mind filling with images of how he’d stretch you out on his cock, how your eyes would roll back in your head as he fucks you just right.

His cock is making an absolute mess of you both, your lower halves completely coated in slick and cum, his head ducks down to look between the two of you. The underside of his cock glazed with your cum nearly sends him into a frenzy, he moans at the sight, forehead falling to rest on your sternum.

You hook your legs up on either side of his hips and he chokes at the change, his thrusts speeding up, one of his hands reaches down and digs into the fat of your thigh, nail biting into the skin. You gasp and whine, your mind slipping from you, you want to beg him more, you want to plead with him to have mercy but you’re not sure you can find the words anymore.

You sob over and over, begging him, “Please, please, please, please–”

He looks back at you, eyes sharp, “You’ll take what I fuckin give you or I’ll never touch you again,” he cautions, his tone harsh.

“Johnny~” you whimper, eyes large and dazed.

He tuts at you, his tone mocking, “Poor thing, not being satisfied sexually?”

You could almost cry, his words feel so mean.

He glares at you, “Know what I did while you were gone, sugar?”

You shake your head at him, a gasp leaving you as his cock head catches on your clit.

“Got me so fuckin– so needy,” he ridicules your usage of the word from earlier, “that I got hard at the sight of your panties on my bedroom floor.”

A strained and small noise leaves you, not at all expecting him to admit to something like that. His hand holds onto the side of your face and tilts you up to look at him, he’s looking down his nose at you and it really shouldn’t arouse you as much as it does. His hips don’t stop, never stopping, he couldn’t, not even to punish you, it’d be hell for him too. He needs this, it’s as close as he’s going to get to fucking you and he’d have to be put in the fucking ground before he’d remove himself from you, he needs you to cum on his cock like this.

“Wanna know what I did with them?” He asks suddenly.

You’re distant but not gone and you nod in response, curious.

He smiles evilly and leans down to whisper into your ear, “I fucked them, tugged on my cock until I came in them. Only thinking about your cunt and how fucking divine you taste, how badly I wanted to stick my tongue in you,” He licks the shell of your ear, “I think– ngh– that you’re getting off easy.”

“Johnny,” you whine at him, the only thing he’s succeeded in doing is making your hornier for him.

“One day. One day I will fuck you open on my cock but today and right now, you’re gonna fuckin behave and cum like this,” it’s a promise, one he intends to keep.

A shiver runs down your spine at how low and authoritative his tone is, a pathetic moan leaving you, one that Johnny doesn’t miss, not if his smile is anything to go by. He doubles his efforts into sliding his cock through your folds, his hips moving quicker, more weight put behind them, it makes you whine and wriggle under him. The hand he had on your face moves back to your hip and grips you tight, forcing you to stay still for him.

He's moving desperately, wanting so badly for you to cum like this, he wants to fuck his whole cock into you but is too damn stubborn to do it now, he doesn’t want your first time to be like this. His abs clench and twitch, his own end fast approaching him, his head leans down to your neck and remembers the other night, he pays extra attention to how close you’re getting, pressing soft kisses to your neck as he continues thrusting against you.

Your pussy is throbbing for him, you’re so unbelievable close and it has you seeing stars, Johnny can tell you’re right on the edge and just as you’re about to cum, he bites into the junction between your neck and shoulder, harder than the other night. Your cunt jumps at the shock of pain and you moan pitifully loud, tears that had been sitting in your water line slip down your cheeks as you spasm and cum for Johnny. He groans at the sounds you’re making for him, at the way your cunt gushes with your orgasm, making an absolute mess of yourself and his dick.

He holds off to let you ride out your high and then he’s pulling back onto his knees, jerking his cock while watching the way your pussy clenches on nothing, he whimpers and wishes he was fucking you full. In just this moment, he wishes he were a worse man but he settles for this, he fists his cock, and just as he’s about to cum he notches his tip at your entrance, not pushing in at all, just resting it there, his cum entering you as much as it can from this position.

You wriggle your hips at him, pushing down slightly, his hand immediately shoots out to push you down, knowing you’d absolutely attempt to take him all, even if it hurt. He can’t help how aroused that thought alone makes him, you’re willing to hurt yourself to take him all and it tugs at something ugly and primal inside him.

After he’s dumped his load on and partially in you, he pulls back, watching the way his cum has coated you. His finger moves to collect it and he begins pushing it inside you, his finger stretching you open as he stuffs you full of his cum.

The grip you have on him is making him lose his mind, “God, you’re so fucking tight.” He groans.

You can’t offer much else but blabbered words, nothing you say very coherent, not for lack of trying though.

Johnny only chuckles, amused by how stupid you are right now, he’s not able to control himself and he begins opening you up on both of his fingers, fucking you with them. His cum making it easy, his only aim was to fuck it into you but now he wants you cumming again, the sounds you make when you cum, they’re something he hopes he never forgets. He’s playing with you, his fingers leaving to spread his cum around some more before re-entering and pulling you apart by the very fibre of your being.

You’re whimpering at him, trying to tell him you’re sensitive, that it’s too much, that you’re going to cry but he either doesn’t understand or doesn’t care and based by how pleased he looks when you begin sobbing for him, you’d safely assume it’s the latter.

He smiles brilliantly at you, “You’re such a pretty doll.”

It’s too much, “I can’t– ngh–”

“–Hmmm? What was that?” He’s taunting you; he knows what you were going to say.

 Your eyes roll to the back of your head, another orgasm already fast approaching you, sadly you think it’s significantly spurned on by how cruel he’s being to you. Your body shakes, your legs try to close but he holds them open easily, his eyes intently watching how you take his fingers.

“Sucking me right back in, got such a needy pussy, I swear,” his fingers move quicker, stroking into one spot that has you gasping out a shocked moan, “Making such a fuckin mess, sweetness, can you hear how fuckin messy you are, hmm?”

You can, the obscene noises of your shamefully wet cunt fill the room and you still find it in yourself to be embarrassed, even when reduced to a sobbing, whimpering, state. Your arm moves to cover your face and Johnny tuts at you, disapproving of the action.

He directs you, “Wanna see your pretty face, doll, keep looking right. at. me.”

Forcing yourself, you look at him, your eyes barely able to stay open, everything you see is blurry anyways. Johnny moves his thumb to circle your clit, you’re sensitive and it makes you jump, your instinct to move away, not that you get very far. He is insistent, his hand never slowing and his thumb never moving, the added stimulation has your stomach doing somersaults.

Your cunt clenches down on his fingers and Johnny groans at you, “Atta girl, there you fuckin go,” his voice is soft, encouraging.

Your orgasm wracks over your body, mind hazy and nowhere within reach, everything you moan out isn’t even close to sounding like words, the only coherent thing being Johnny’s name. Your back arches and he pins you back down again, his fingers and thumb still moving, aiding in your orgasm. It’s becoming too much but you can’t even move away from him, only able to take the overstimulation until he’s satisfied. Everything is… dark and you can’t hear a damn thing.

He does eventually show you mercy, removing his fingers from your pussy, he taps your clit a few times just to watch how you jump and spasm at the contact though, and then he really does pull back. His eyes stay on your cunt though, watching you for a moment before his gaze wanders all over your body, taking in how blissed and fucked out you look.

Wistfully, he murmurs, “I’m gonna shove my cock so deep inside you, you’ll feel me in your stomach.”

“Johnny–”

“–Not now but one day,” he laughs airily, leaning down to kiss you tenderly on the lips.

He gets off the bed and pulls on some pants, leaving to grab a cloth and water, you lay on his mattress completely gone, not a single thought in your head. When he comes back, he cleans you up and makes you drink the water.

“You make me drink a lot of water,” you mumble around the rim of the glass.

He’s watching you, completely charmed by you even though you’re a naked mess drinking water in his bed, “Need you to stay hydrated, don’t want you passing out on me.”

“Keep making me cum like that and I just might,” you pass him the almost empty glass and he places it on the nightstand. He hands you one of his t-shirts and you put it on, appreciating the cover. 

“So… you’re into biting, huh?” He’s teasing you, his grin large.

You pout at him, “Don’t be mean… panty thief.”

“Oh, how you wound me, sugar,” his hands dramatically clasp at his chest over his heart. You roll your eyes at him and he instead asks, “Wanna watch a movie?”

“I am not moving,” you say, stretching your achy muscles out.

He offers, “What if I carry you?”

“…I could be amicable to that.”

“Yeah, I fuckin bet,” he chuckles but carries you to the lounge anyways.

The movie you end up watching is one of his, which should be a shock to no one, it’s not like you’re entirely conscious of the plot though, you’re still off in the clouds. Something Johnny admonishes you for, “Pay attention!”

You argue back, “I’m tired, plus I’ve seen this one before!”

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” he jokes.

“I could say the same to you,” you sigh, snuggling into his side, he wraps his arm around you and holds you close.

This is the most peaceful you have felt in a while, you feel safe and cared for and you think, you could stay like this forever.

✰ ✰ ✰

Thank you for reading it all !!!!! I know it was quite a lot to get through >v< Let me know your thoughts/feelings and reach out if you have questions !!! ily and have a beautiful day/night <33

[waywardxrhea]

Seeing Other People - Matt Murdock

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader (descriptor of hair being long enough to run hands through and comb)

Your insecurities from the past come back to haunt you as you grapple with the paranoia that creeps into your mind when Matt suddenly starts ducking out on dates.

word count: 7,247

content: hurt/comfort, angst, anxiety, insecurity, panic attacks, language, mention of guns.

dividers by: @firefly-graphics

now playing: Seeing Other People by Francis Karel and Maddie Zahm

"i've been seeing other people, all my ex's undertones / assuming i'll catch you in a lie, afraid to read what's on your phone / 'cause when i was seeing other people, i'm not the only one that they took home / now i don't trust so easily, even when i know you're not cheating / i'm the one who's seeing other people in you"

You had finished with your hair and makeup for your date with Matt half an hour ago and were patiently waiting for his call. He would always call to tell you he was on his way to whisk you away from your apartment for the evening, which was something you appreciated rather than being caught half ready. It had been a long week. You were looking forward to getting to relax into conversation with Matt and eventually into his strong arms by the end of the night. Matt had usually ended your dates either in his bedroom or on the couch cuddling, and those times were ones you cherished with your whole being. You would never take them for granted. The moments of intimacy were ones you looked forward to more than anything and were something you were desperately craving after the hellish week you’d had at work. 

Getting lost in your thoughts of cuddling Matt, you nearly didn’t hear your phone ringing quietly beside you on the couch. When it finally registered in your ears, you fumbled to pick it up before it hung itself up, answering with a quick, “Matt! Hey!”

“Hey sweetheart,” came Matt’s voice which you noted sounded a bit more gruff than usual. You heard a rustling in the background of the call as he continued with, “I, uh… I hate to tell you this but I have to cancel tonight’s date. I’m really sorry. Something came up with work that really needs my attention. Can we rain check?”

“Oh,” you said, feeling your body deflate into the couch cushion. Shaking away your suddenly spiking anxiety, you forced a chipperness into your voice as you told him, “That’s fine! I hope everything is okay. If I can help in any way just let me know, yeah?”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he told you, a sense of relief evident in his tone. 

There was a heavy thud on the other side of the line and your eyebrows furrowed together as you asked, “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Just dropped my briefcase, that’s all,” Matt told you. “Client seemed really anxious to speak with us as soon as possible, so I’m more clumsy than usual getting ready to head out.”

“Oh, I see. I’ll let you go then,” you said, in a quieter tone than you intended. “I love you. Talk later?”

“Talk later. I love you too,” he replied.

Matt hung up shortly after and tossed his phone onto his leather couch as he dashed up the stairs. He had suited up in his Daredevil suit in record time while he was on the phone with you. While he hated to cancel another date on you, there was a growing drug gang that he needed to stop before they took over the city. From the rumors he had heard, they were serious business and weren’t afraid to kill for territory. Having killers on his streets was the last thing he wanted. If the streets weren’t safe, then you weren't safe and your safety was not something he was willing to risk. 

The crisp air of the city hit Matt as he bolted out of the rooftop access door. He tried to shove down his feelings of guilt surrounding canceling the date as he focused on the sounds of the city around him, trying to find one voice in particular. The voice he had overheard on his way to pick up lunch for himself, Foggy, and Karen the day before. He found it after a few moments, but before he could take off toward where the meeting was taking place, he hesitated. The hesitation was caused by hearing the soft sound of your crying in your apartment a couple blocks down. The sound tugged on Matt’s heartstrings and by instinct his body began gravitating toward your place to provide you comfort, but the sound of a cocking gun tore his ears away from your cries. Within an instant, Matt was on the move, vaulting across rooftops and traversing metal fire escapes to get to the meeting spot. He was racing to get there before the shot rang and a life was taken. 

Back in your apartment, the mental turmoil you were experiencing was like a hurricane blowing through your mind with no end in sight. Your hands shook and your heart pounded in your ears as your breathing became shallow and tears blurred your vision. Old memories bombarded your mind, and you were sent back to a headspace that you never wanted to experience again. But, despite your best efforts, you have been… Over the last month or so your mind had slipped into old habits and you had begun to doubt your place in Matt’s life. Canceled plans led to harsh memories that you have tried to leave in your past. But, as you had started to feel more distance growing between yourself and Matt, you couldn’t help but have flashes of memories you thought you had shoved into the ‘forgotten’ box in your mind. 

Without your permission, your emotions began to take over and you couldn’t escape the flurry of old memories intruding into your previously peaceful headspace. It was a dizzying feeling as you were bombarded with the memories of harshly spoken words and insults thrown in your direction. No matter how hard you tried to push the memories back they kept coming and soon you felt like you were thrown into the midst of an emotional storm that was pelting you from all sides. Tears began to freefall and test the integrity of your makeup, and you did your best to simply stay afloat as you attempted to find the eye of the storm within your mind. It took longer than you would have liked to admit, but after a few minutes of being bumped around by your painful past, you finally were able to center yourself and take the deep, calming breaths that would slow your heart rate. 

As your body began to escape the unnecessary fight or flight mode the phone call with Matt had sent you into, you tried to rationalize his words now that your anxiety had had its turn at ravaging your body. You told yourself that the gruffness in his voice was likely from annoyance with the last minute client call. That the rustling in the background was simply him changing out of his jeans and henley and into a suit to meet with the client. That he truly had dropped his briefcase in his rush to make it to the meeting. There was no reason for you to think that he was with someone else when he called you. It was just fear and anxiety trying to make you self-sabotage. Again.

Taking one more deep breath, you stood up on shaking legs and made your way to the bathroom to remove your makeup. When you looked up at yourself you cringed when you saw how bloodshot your eyes had become from your crying. There were trails nearly barren of makeup that the tears left behind, but much to your surprise your eye makeup had held true to its promise of being waterproof. Your hair on the other hand was a different story. You had a bad habit of running your hands through it when you were stressed, so naturally after a breakdown like that it looked like a rat’s nest… Not wanting to look at yourself in that state any longer, you rid yourself of the makeup and combed through your hair so it wouldn’t be a tangled mess anymore.

As you did this though, you realized that the clothes you had put on for your date were suddenly obnoxious and irritating, causing your heart rate to spike with more anxiety with every move you made. So you quickly took them off and threw on a comfortable and ridiculously soft t-shirt and pajama pants in their wake. Your irritated senses were soothed once you were rid of all the nuisances and you made your way into the kitchen to make yourself a quick and comforting dish for dinner. 

With your food balanced carefully on the armrest of the couch while you settled in, you decided to binge British baking shows in order to keep your mind off of things. The soothing accents and descriptions of baked goods would be a welcome distraction. You avoided thinking about the steady ache in your heart caused by the growing number of canceled dates, the descriptions of recipes and the monotonous routines falling like a warm blanket over your mind. They would also help in your attempt to fend off the old memories threatening to take hold of your thoughts once more. While it wasn’t the perfect solution to your problems, it was the best one you had. And, for now, it would have to do. 

A week later you waited with bated breath, your heart pounding against your ribs, as the minutes ticked by before Matt would pick you up for your rain-check date. There was less effort put into your hair and makeup for the outing, your anxiety telling you the effort would be for naught, but you still deemed yourself presentable enough to feign confidence being next to someone as attractive as Matt. A sense of relief washed over you when you heard a gentle knock on your door. You let out a deep sigh, a smile painting your lips, as you made your way to the door. 

When you opened the door, your heart skipped a beat like it always did when you saw Matt’s charming smile. He stood patiently in the hallway, waiting to take you on your date. “Hey, sweetheart,” Matt said before pulling you in for a kiss. 

“Hey yourself,” you told him when he pulled away a few moments later. “How was work?”

“It was good. Got through the toughest part of the paperwork for the latest client,” he told you as you took your keys out of your purse to lock the door behind you. You wrapped your hand around his bicep and began leading him down the hall, the steady tapping of his cane a soothing and familiar rhythm as you walked. “We’re hoping that we could get the opposition to go in with a deal so it doesn’t have to go to court, but it’s looking like this is more complicated than we anticipated. The client is really worried about having to make an appearance, so it’s taking a lot of convincing from Karen to not just drop the case altogether.”

“Oh, that sounds tough, I’m sorry,” you told him as you hit the button to summon the elevator. Matt shrugged in response. It was simply something that came with the job and they were dealing.

“How was work for you?” Matt asked as the two of you stepped into the elevator. 

“It was fine. Nothing too crazy,” you replied. “I wish people in this city were a bit kinder, but…”

“Are you okay?” Matt asked quietly, the elevator coming to a stop at the bottom floor. 

“I’ll be fine. It’s nothing. Really. I just need to get tougher skin, that’s all,” you told him quickly, trying to brush away his concern. It really wasn’t that big of a deal. Some customers just felt entitled to scream at you and come up with…colorful insults to hurl your way in response to you just doing your job. Matt had bigger fish to fry than that. He was under a lot of stress with this case, it sounded like, and you didn’t want your problems to needlessly occupy his mind. 

“Where did you wanna go for dinner?” you asked as the two of you pushed through the front door. The usual sounds of the city bounced around you. Honking cars, scattered conversations, the usual hustle and bustle of good ‘ol New York. It was noisy, but it was home.

“I chose last time, did you have anything in mind?” Matt asked after a few moments of silence. He wondered why you were brushing off his attempts at conversation. He could tell that the question had caused a pang of anxiety to rise in you and he could smell the salt of tears building behind your eyes, but still you pushed the subject away. Why? You were usually fairly vocal about how work was, but lately you had started to close yourself off. It made Matt start to wonder what had set you off… Maybe your supervisor left or something like that. He would try and get to the bottom of that later.

His mind was dragged back into the conversation as you timidly said, “I don’t really have a preference, it’s whatever you wanna do.” You cleared your throat and asked, “What about that scratch made pizza place you mentioned wanting to try? I looked into it and they make their dough and sauce in house every day. They seem to get as many locally sourced meats as possible, too. I think they may actually get some of it from Foggy’s family.”

“That sounds great, lead the way,” Matt replied with a brief laugh. He felt the air shift around you as you nodded and pulled out your phone with your free hand, followed shortly by the quiet electronic voice of the GPS guiding you to your destination. 

Matt couldn’t help the small smile that made its way onto his lips as he followed you to the restaurant. The two of you had been together for a while now, his enhanced senses still not something you were aware of, yet you took everything that they affected into consideration. When Matt had mentioned off handedly that the cotton in your sheets felt scratchy on his skin, you had switched to silk and satin ones instead. When you noticed that your lotions and perfumes were too strong for him and gave him headaches, you took to using more toned down and natural scents. You started making meals with organic and fresh ingredients and going to restaurants that did the same because he mentioned one time that processed foods didn’t agree with him. During your time together you had done everything you could to make sure Matt was comfortable even without really knowing why. A warm smile tugged on his lips as he reminisced on how grateful he truly was to you.

Matt had attempted to do the same for you in any way that he could without revealing too much about his abilities. He would swing by a small florist stand and get you flowers when he knew you were having a bad day. He would surprise you with the lunch you had been telling your coworkers you had been craving. He would offer you massages when he could practically feel the tension in your muscles after work. The one thing he couldn’t do was ask why you had been crying so much lately in the safety of your own apartment, tucked away from him and everyone else in the world. He wanted to offer you solace and a place to be vulnerable, but you had never been open in that aspect of your emotions. Well, that and the fact that most of the time when he heard your cries he was in his Daredevil suit and couldn’t just waltz right into your apartment to offer you the comfort you needed. The love you deserved. 

When the pair of you neared the pizza place, Matt deeply inhaled the scent of all the fresh ingredients and he sent a smile your way as he told you, “Great choice, sweetheart.”

“Oh, thanks!” you stuttered out, a light blush dusting your cheeks in response to his praise. 

The pizza was as amazing as you had expected. The ingredients were all fresh and proved to be the winning combination they were advertised to be. Between bites of pizza, the two of you opted to play a game where you people watched and described passersby to Matt and asked what he thought their story was. As usual, you were floored when Matt would tell you what he thought with a small smirk teasing his lips. When they would walk by, he’d be right on the money. You couldn’t help the school-girl-like laugh that escaped your lips at his latest feat as you asked, “How do you do that?”

“Thanks, in part, to you,” Matt told you with a fond smile on his lips. While that was in fact a little white lie, Matt never missed an opportunity to compliment you and your people skills. “You’re very good at describing people and their mannerisms. It helps me decide if they’re a tourist, a local, a business person, or whatever else.”

“Okay, let’s go again, there’s this man-” you started to say but cut yourself off when you saw Matt’s eyebrows furrow behind his red lenses and he began fishing around in his coat pockets for something. “Everything all right?” you asked timidly, your hands dropping down into your lap to mess with the hem of your shirt. 

“Just getting a call,” he told you off handedly as he finally found the flip phone in a pocket and answered it with a quick, “Yeah?” Matt’s eyes closed and you saw the muscles in his jaw working as he ground his teeth together in response to whatever was being said to him on the other line. “Yeah. Give me twenty minutes-” A frustrated sigh heaved from his chest and Matt ran a hand over the stubble growing on his chin before he relented, saying, “Fine. Ten minutes, then I’ll be there,” before hanging up. 

You were thankful that he wasn’t able to see the disappointed look on your face. When he hung up the phone mere moments later, you probably looked like a wounded puppy. You forced down the steadily growing feeling of heartbreak as you attempted to casually ask, “You gotta get going?”

Matt sported a painful expression on his face, his unseeing gaze concentrated somewhere on your upper chest while he closed his eyes yet again as he nodded. He got up from his seat and fished his wallet out from his pocket, feeling around for the properly folded bills to pay for the meal and dessert if you wanted. Placing the bills on the table and a kiss on your temple, Matt apologized before unfolding his cane and practically sprinting out of the pizzeria. 

The call was from one of Mahoney’s men who was deep undercover in the drug gang he had been trying to take down, and if the intel was right, Matt would be able to take down the growing syndicate that night if he hurried. They were growing more and more brazen as time went on, and even with the threat of Daredevil, the man in charge was committed to getting what he wanted. If that meant killing, then so be it. So, he needed to be stopped. Matt’s senses became laser focused on monitoring where he knew their hideout was. He turned into an unoccupied alleyway before tossing his cane away and vaulting himself onto fire escapes. He needed to get to his suit before he could take down the head of the operation.

Once he was out of sight, a deep sigh left your chest along with a quiet sob that you couldn’t hold back. Not wanting more tears to break free, you closed your eyes and tried to focus on literally anything else besides the growing pain in your chest. You tried to breathe as normally as you could, but it was hard as you felt your throat getting tighter with emotion by the second. Your head snapped to attention as a woman to your left asked, “Can I interest you in some dessert, angiolo?” 

“Oh, I-” you started to say as you looked into the small Italian woman’s warm eyes, your voice trembling against your will in the process. 

“I’ll get you dessert,” she said with finality, giving you a pat on the back and heading off toward the kitchen. You were left slightly bewildered in her wake, the shock of the strange encounter pulling you out of your heartbreak for a few moments. 

The truth of the matter was that she had watched as Matt left in a haste and saw your reaction - how your shoulders hunched inward and you looked smaller as your leg began to anxiously bounce. She returned a few minutes later with a small to-go box filled with cannolis and you thanked her graciously as you handed her the money Matt had given you to pay for the meal. She gave you a warm smile, taking the money graciously, then you headed out of the restaurant.

As you walked back to your apartment, the weight of everything began to rest heavily on your shoulders again. You wanted nothing more than to curl up on your couch with a cup of soothing tea and ignore the world for a while. You buried your emotions as best you could as you headed to the nearest bodega that sold your favorite tea. While searching the aisles, your body went into auto-pilot mode as you made your selection. Your mind pestered you with something that had been bothering you since Matt got that phone call at the restaurant. The phone he answered wasn’t his usual cell phone. His normal phone was a touchscreen one that called out the name of whoever was calling him. This one was a flip phone that didn’t seem to have any of his accommodations. You had seen him put his other phone in his pocket before you left the apartment, so you knew he had that one on him, so why-

“Hey!” came Karen’s chipper voice after she called out your name in greeting. 

You tried to subtly wipe away the tears that had begun leaking out of your eyes before forcing a smile onto your face as you turned toward the blonde and said, “Hey! What are you doing here?”

A look you couldn’t quite gauge flitted across Karen’s features before she huffed out a quiet laugh and said, “Oh, you know me, just working late at the office. We ran out of coffee this morning, and I am in desperate need, so I just came here to grab some.” When she said this, you finally noticed the tub of ground coffee she had in her arms as she added, “I’ll have to grab some from the coffee shop for Matt in the morning, but for now this’ll do for me.”

“O-of course,” you said with a small nod. Matt couldn’t stand the taste of pre-ground coffee from the bodega, preferring the freshly ground stuff from the local coffee shops. It was something you had noted early on in your relationship and made sure to get for him weekly to bring to the office. He was always so busy between cases, so it was the least you could do to supply him with the much needed caffeine. But as you stared at the container in Karen’s hands, you felt a pang of guilt hit you as you remembered that you forgot to grab him any this week. 

Karen’s soft voice once again broke you out of your head as she asked, “Hey, I uh… I could use the company, do you want to head over to the office with me for a bit? We haven’t hung out in a while.” She motioned toward the box in your hand as she finished with, “We have plenty of hot water to make your tea with, and I think there’s still some honey from when we closed Mrs. Cabrera’s case.”

“Oh, sure,” you found yourself saying before you could fully process it. The people pleaser in you didn’t want to say no, so you paid for your goods and followed her to the offices of Nelson, Murdock, and Page while you tried not to drown in the sea of anxiety that was engulfing you. 

On the way there, you nodded at the right places and gave a few affirmatives as Karen talked to you about their latest cases, but you couldn’t help your mind from wandering back to worrying. When the two of you arrived in the office, you let your body take control to begin steeping the tea while Karen began preparing the pot for her coffee. Who had Matt been on the phone with? They were certainly pressuring him to be on time to whatever meeting they were having. Whoever it was obviously was important to him, or maybe you were vastly overestimating your value in his life. Maybe-

“Everything okay?” 

That was the first thing you heard Karen ask when your mind finally remembered that you weren’t alone. Pushing down the feeling of embarrassment at being caught lost in your own thoughts, you quickly nodded and forced a smile onto your lips as you said, “Yeah! Of course!” You placed the little box from the restaurant down on the counter and opened it as you asked, “How do you feel about cannolis? There are a lot more in here than I thought and I’ll never be able to eat all of them!”

“Oh, sure…” Karen said slowly, her eyebrows furrowing together as she pondered why you’d changed the subject so quickly. 

After savoring the taste of the dessert, you offered Karen another fake smile before asking, “So, these last few cases have been keeping the three of you pretty busy huh? Matt’s been exhausted lately. He told me he’s been getting home pretty late every night after meeting with clients.”

While Karen responded with something about a new client not wanting to go to court and that’s why she was there so late, your mind began wandering again. Was it a client who had called Matt at dinner? He left in such a hurry… You didn’t think that he would answer a client in the way he did though. And there was still the thing about the phone… Did Karen know about who he might be-

Your name being called out again cut through your racing thoughts and you jumped at the sudden intrusion, causing hot tea to spill onto the hand holding the cup. “Shit!” you whispered urgently as you began flicking your hand around to rid yourself of the burning liquid quickly before more of it scalded your skin. 

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you!” Karen said, her hand covering her mouth for a moment in shock before she began frantically looking around for something to help you with. 

“No, no, it’s not your fault. It’s mine. I’m sorry. I should really get going. I didn’t mean to interrupt your work. I’m sorry,” you told her quickly while holding back more tears. “Keep the cannolis. They should still be good in the morning.”

“Are you sure? I can see if there’s any aloe or something,” she told you as she dug through her purse. 

“Don’t worry about me,” you told her before quickly turning toward the office door and heading out, offering a courteous goodnight before your departure. You just needed to be alone. You could deal with the burn when you got to your apartment, but right now you didn’t need to be in Karen’s company. You were self aware enough to know that just one more thing would’ve set you off into a total mental breakdown…

The next morning after getting Matt some fresh coffee from a local shop near the firm, Karen made her way into the office. “Morning Karen!” Foggy greeted her as she started putting her things down on her desk. 

“Morning, Fog! Have a good night?” she asked. 

“I did! Marci and I had some pizza then zonked out in front of the TV for a while.. It was great!” he replied, the smile on his face cluing to Karen that what he recounted wasn’t all that had happened, but she kept her smirk to herself as she told him that she was happy he had a good night. 

She dropped the bag of coffee by the coffee maker before heading over to Matt’s office. She knocked on the doorframe to get his attention. “Hey. I got you some coffee from the shop down the street. You look like you need it.”

Matt rubbed his temples and nodded, telling her, “Long night. Worked with Mahoney’s guy to take down that drug gang I’ve been after. Didn’t get back to the apartment until around three…” As Matt followed Karen to the coffee station, a familiar floral scent hit his nose which prompted him to ask, “Was she here last night?”

Karen asked your name in a question and got the affirmative, so she told him, “Yeah. She seemed upset when I ran into her at the bodega getting coffee, so I invited her back here to talk. She seemed super distracted, though. When I called her name to get her attention, she spilled her tea and burned her hand. Then she bolted.”

Upon hearing this, Matt sighed and ran a hand over the lower half of his face which prompted Karen to ask, “What did you do?” Right as she did though, a memory hit her and she gasped quietly before saying, “You had a date planned last night… You two were on a date when you had to go take care of that drug gang, weren’t you?”

“Yeah,” Matt admitted quietly, guilt laced in his voice and seeping into his mind. 

“Oh, Matt…” she whispered sympathetically. She took a sip of her coffee before telling him, “You know…every time I asked her how she was or tried to offer help, she deflected pretty quickly. She was also super distracted and zoned out a lot. I know that look, Matt. There’s something that’s eating her alive and she’s suffering in silence. She’s not accepting help from her friends.” She placed her cup down on the counter and crossed her arms as she said pointedly, “I think you need to talk to her, Matt.”

“Karen, I-” Matt tried but was interrupted.

“Talk to her,” Karen said with a finality in her tone as a quiet knock sounded through the office, indicating that their first client of the day had arrived. 

By the time midday had rolled around, Matt had called you and got your voicemail since you were at work. He opted to go ahead and leave the voicemail, telling you, “Hey sweetheart. Karen told me what happened last night. I realized that there’s something we’ve been needing to talk about. I’ll be over at around seven tonight. See you then.”

By the time you had gotten the opportunity to check your voicemail, you were already back at your apartment after work. A quick glance at your clock told you it was nearly a quarter till seven. When you heard the words there’s something we’ve been needing to talk about from Matt, your heart dropped. Fear and panic began to fill your whole body, gripping your throat in a tight vice. 

This was it. This was surely the end of the most wonderful relationship you’d had in years. All because you were too afraid to talk about your feelings. You had overcorrected because of your insecurities from the past and that ran Matt off. Because you were too afraid to accept help from others and he got tired of it. Because he found someone else who was willing to be open and honest with him about everything. Because he found someone better than you. More secure in themself. Less anxious. Someone without a past that haunted them like yours did…

You barely made it to the couch in your living area before collapsing as you were consumed with your brutal thoughts of insecurity and anticipatory grief about the end of you and Matt. The room felt like it was spinning and closing in on you simultaneously. You were left clutching your knees to your chest as you tried to hold onto some semblance of self. You were failing miserably. Shallow gasps of air were all you could manage through your tightening throat. Your heart pounded in your ears. Tears flowed down your cheeks. All encompassing doom clouded the edges of your mind. This was it.

Matt was so exhausted after a long day at the firm, following his even longer night out as Daredevil, that he felt like his enhanced senses were drowning him. Everything was too overwhelming, too distracting, too much. So, he concentrated inward and focused on his own heartbeat to drown out everything else bombarding his senses. He also focused on the flowers in his hand that he had bought for you. The bouquet of roses reminded him of your shampoo, subtle and floral. It put a small smile on his lips as he made his way to your apartment. 

Getting lost in concentrating on the smell of the roses and the steady beat of his own heart, Matt didn’t even tune into your apartment until he was right outside of it about to raise his hand to knock. And that’s when he sensed it. Your rapid heart rate and breathing. Fear. Panic. And you were on the other side of a locked door. 

Knowing that there was a roof access door nearby and no one else in the hallway, Matt dropped his cane as well as the roses and bolted toward it, desperate to get to you. The chill of the night hit him as he navigated the familiar rooftop and then down to the fire escape outside of your window. Luckily you had left your window unlocked, so Matt threw it open and crawled through before making his way over to your shaking form on the couch. 

You were alone in the apartment and there weren't any unfamiliar smells in the space, so he knew there was no immediate danger that set you off. He wrapped you in his arms and rubbed your back as he mumbled, “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you. I’m right here.” 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you choked out as you burrowed into his chest. 

“Sorry for what?” Matt asked before kissing your temple. 

“For not being enough,” you replied, your voice breaking as a fresh batch of tears rolled down your flushed cheeks. Before Matt could even respond to that, you found yourself rambling, telling him, “I thought that if I didn’t bother you with all the shit in my head, then maybe I wouldn’t run you off… I thought that the more of me you saw, the less of me you’d like. But… I still managed to mess everything up… Like I always do…” You huffed out a humorless laugh before saying, “I get it if there’s someone else. I wouldn’t wanna be with me, either…”

Matt felt his heart shatter as the words fell out of you in a grief-filled torrent. Tears began to sting the backs of his eyes. He knew he couldn’t lose himself in his guilt for making you feel this way, though, so he focused back on you. “Hey, hey, just breathe. Breathe with me, sweetheart,” Matt mumbled as he pulled you closer. 

Matt ran his hand up and down your back and told you to breathe in and out with the soothing strokes. You tried, but with the amount of anxiety still filling your body and clutching at your throat, it felt like an impossible task. Matt didn’t give up though, and on top of the slow and soothing patterns he ran up and down your back, he began to mumble sweet nothings into your ear that reassured you that you were safe. That you were with him. That everything would be okay. These reassurances weren’t just for you though. They were for him as he too tried to calm down his own racing mind. 

After a few minutes, Matt finally got your heart rate and breathing back down to a normal enough pace. When he was sure you were calmed down enough to talk, he tentatively asked, “What makes you think there’s someone else? I promise there’s only you, sweetheart. I’ve never had a partner as kind and caring and accommodating as you. I would be a fool to mess that up.”

“It’s just…” you whispered, a quiet sob tumbling off your lips before you took a deep and shaky breath. “The canceled dates. The bolting in the middle of the one last night. The mysterious flip phone you used yesterday. The background noise on the call last week. Telling me you’ve been getting home in the ungodly hours of the night.” You swallowed hard before pushing through by confessing, “My last relationship… It ended because he was cheating. When I first got suspicious though he made me feel like the bad guy for bringing it up. The things he said were extremely harsh and I guess… I guess my mind never got past that. Now I stuff down all of my own emotions to make sure others are happy and not bothered by my feelings. And over the last month, I couldn’t help but notice that you’ve been doing some of the same things he did, and… Gosh, I should shut up. I'm really sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. Just forget I said anything. I’m sorry…”

More tears began falling from your eyes and you attempted to get up from the couch. You desperately needed to put some separation between you and Matt. You felt like you were just digging a hole you couldn’t get out of. But instead of letting you hide away from him again, his strong arms pulled you impossibly closer and kept you right where you were. “Don’t apologize. Please,” he whispered, his voice breaking with emotion. “He sounds like a controlling prick and I’m sorry that such a caring person ever had to deal with that… You don’t deserve to feel like you can’t talk about your feelings. I’m sorry if I ever made you feel that way.”

“It’s not you, it’s just…trauma,” you told him as your exhausted body relaxed into his embrace. With your senses finally easing after being stretched so thin, you were able to make some sense of the current situation. Looking over at the door to the hallway, you furrowed your eyebrows together as you asked, “Matt?”

“Yeah?”

“How did you get into my apartment?” You hadn’t found the time to get a spare key made to give to him, and you knew that you had locked it on your way in, so how…? You felt Matt’s muscles tense and in response your heart sped up as your anxiety started to settle back in. 

In his rush to get to you to provide you with the comfort you needed, Matt didn’t even think about how he would explain how he got into the apartment. After his conversation with Karen that morning, he had thought long and hard about the possibility of telling you the truth about what he did at night, but he didn’t think the conversation would lead here. It seemed like there was no way to avoid it now…

There was a long moment of silence before Matt gave into the inevitable and asked, “Do you want to know the real reason why I stay out so late and have been so exhausted lately? Why I’ve had to cancel dates?” 

Confusion filled your mind when he asked the questions. Why was Matt asking that in response to your wondering how he got into your apartment? Surely your apartment manager had nothing to do with- You stopped your spiraling thoughts before they could get out of control and nodded, telling him, “I do.”

Another long pause filled the air before Matt said in a barely audible whisper, “I’m Daredevil…” Your breath hitched in your throat for a moment before you laughed quietly and threw your arms around him in a tight embrace. Matt froze for a second before returning your hug as he asked, “You’re not… I don’t know… Mad? Shocked? Upset? Wanting to run away?”

“I’m just happy you aren’t cheating on me,” you told him, a genuine laugh falling from your lips before you could stop it. You pulled away and kissed his cheek before you said, “No wonder Daredevil’s seemed to take an interest in me getting home safe when I’m out late.”

“Oh, so you noticed, huh?” Matt asked with a quiet chuckle leaving his lips. 

“Especially after that group of assholes tried to touch me when I was heading home after Laura’s birthday party,” you noted, a small smile pulling the corners of your lips up. 

“Yeah, I may have gone a bit overboard with that one,” he said sheepishly. He cleared his throat and told you, “There was this drug gang that was starting to gain ground over the last few weeks. That’s why I’ve been skipping out on dates here lately. I wanted to keep you and the rest of Hell’s Kitchen safe.”

“Did you deal with them?” you asked. 

“Last night, yeah,” he replied. “That was Mahoney’s UC calling me on my emergency burner that Foggy has aptly called my ‘Devil Signal,’” he said, ending his statement with a chuckle and shake of his head. 

“So, Foggy knows?”

“And Karen,” he said. “You took it a lot better than they did.”

“Well, that’s because it doesn’t change anything between us,” you told him. “Clearly, I’ve been dealing with your Daredevil schedule since we started dating. The only reason it was bothering me lately was because of my own insecurity. It hasn’t caused any problems, so why would it change anything now?”

“God, I love you,” Matt whispered before pulling you into a gentle kiss. 

“I love you too,” you told him as you rested your forehead on his. 

You were quiet for a few moments, letting the peace of the moment soothe your swirling mind, before you pulled away and said cautiously, “I do have a question though… Considering what you do as Daredevil, are you really…?”

“Blind? Yes,” he told you. “My other senses are enhanced, though, so I’m able to navigate the world easily. I’m able to hear what other people can’t. That’s how I get to stuff before the cops do.” He rubbed your back as he admitted quietly, “I could hear you having a panic attack in here, so I… I came in through the window.”

“You could…? How?” you asked, feeling your heart jump into your throat. 

“Your heart rate just sped up when I told you that,” he told you with a ghost of a smile on his lips. “I’m able to hear people’s heart and respiratory rate. I can also smell cortisol levels and adrenaline. All of that was off the charts when I got here so I broke in so I could comfort you,” he said, his smile evident in his voice as he finished the sentence. 

“Oh… This is going to be a learning curve,” you breathed, suddenly feeling very aware of everything your body was doing at the moment. 

“And I’ll be here for you every step of the way,” Matt told you before pulling you in for another tender kiss. “Promise me you’ll tell me about whatever’s on your mind from now on?”

“Promise,” you agreed, and Matt could tell by the steady beat of your heart that you were telling the truth. 

a/n: this was basically a way for me to process some personal shit (excuse the lore lmao) because writing is my way of dealing with things!

special thanks to @sunflowersandsapphires for helping me process my thoughts and make my ideas into a story as well as to @a-leg-without-fear @dorothleah and @shouldbestudying41 for beta reading and providing edits! i love you all!

[wileys-russo]

Kcc "ky,no,thats just for childs" shopping center

changed the wording up just a smidge for kidsII k.cooney cross

"babe are you done now?" you rolled your eyes at the whine from outside, fixing the top of the dress you were trying on and looking at yourself in the mirror.

"no! just sit patiently ky." you chuckled at the groan which followed, kyra slumping back down into the chair and tapping her feet, already bored of everything on her phone as her eyes roamed the store.

you'd warned her when you'd made the plans to go shopping that she shouldn't come, knowing how easily she got bored and detested shopping for the most part.

but kyra still insisted on accompanying you, though as she sat waiting in what felt like the 100th store she was starting to regret her decision. you had a family wedding coming up and needed to find something to wear, and kyra should have known you'd test out every possible option before deciding on anything.

"what do you think?" her attention snapped up as you stepped out of the change rooms, twirling as a smile settled on her lips. "i think you look gorgeous babe, just like you did in the last five." kyra complimented as you shot her a playful glare.

"i've got two more to try on and then we're done." you promised sending her a smile as she sighed in relief, tapping her lips as you rolled your eyes but pecked them anyway.

"good! i can't wait to go home." kyra sighed happily as you gave her a funny look. "done in this store baby, not done done." you corrected before pulling the change room curtains shut as your girlfriend let out a long and tired groan.

it was two hours later that kyra's thin veil of patience disappeared all together.

"kyra. two more stores! come on." you held your hand out and wiggled your fingers as she shook her head, rooted to the spot with her arms crossed and a scowl.

"you've already bought two options, pick one and lets go." kyra huffed, holding the car keys captive in her pocket as you shook your head. "i warned you i'd be awhile and you still insisted on coming, you're being a child!" you warned as the girl shrugged.

"alright, fine." she turned on heel as you exhaled and started to follow after her, not really having much of a choice since she also insisted on carrying your bag which had your phone and wallet in it.

"what are you doing?" you asked deadpan as she stopped and sat down on a childrens carousel, far too large for the small firetruck she somehow squeezed herself into.

"ky no, those are for kids." you warned as she shrugged unbothered, wiggling her way in until she was comfortable. "well if i'm acting like a child then its fine. you go shopping, i'll be here going around and around until you're done!" your girlfriend tapped her card to start the carousel as you stared in disbelief.

"you are unbelievable." you sighed, grabbing your bag off of her as she span past and held it out before walking off and leaving her behind.

but as she did with nearly everything, kyra eventually grew bored of the carousel, having rode it around and around for about half an hour still with no sign of you returning. but as the ride eventually came to a stop, kyra was met with yet another problem.

a grunt came from her mouth as she tried to pull herself out of the small firetruck but found she could only get one leg out, the other wedged inside as the australian let out a groan.

"kyra? ky!" the midfielder winced hearing some new voices call out her name, glancing over her shoulder to see charli and a couple of her spurs teammates making their way over.

quickly jumping back in to save face kyra plastered a smile on her face and waved as the girls arrived. "why are you sitting on a kids ride?" charli snickered as kyra shrugged.

"girlfriends shopping, we've been here since ten." kyra groaned as charli grinned, her friends excusing themselves to wander into a nearby jewelry store.

"let me guess, she told you not to come but you did anyway?" charli smiled knowingly as kyra rolled her eyes but her lack of answer was enough of an answer anyway.

"and, you're stuck. aren't you?" charli's smile widened as kyra stuttered trying to come up with an excuse but failing to do so hung her head. "yes." the brunette mumbled as charli's laugh echoed around and kyra reached out to smack her.

"shut up!" kyra warned with a huff, her best friends laughs dying down to chuckles as she stepped in to try and help, arms hooking under her elbows and trying to pull her out to no avail.

"charli?" the blonde glanced over her shoulder seeing you stood with a bag in hand and a confused look in her eyes. "kyras stuck!" the australian grinned gleefully as kyra groaned and punched her in the arm.

"didn't i tell you these were for kids?" you sighed, shaking your head in disappointment as you came closer, your girlfriend avoiding your gaze all together, apparently the only one who felt sorry for herself.

"right, you grab her knee, i'll grab her arms." you dropped your bag on the floor with the rest of them kyra had stayed with and sighed, you and charli moving positions and counting down.

nodding you both started to pull and tug at the midfielder, ignoring her constant overdramatic whines of pain, both of you telling her to shut up and reminding the only person who was really to blame was kyra herself.

eventually a few people had gathered, clearly catching onto what was happening as a couple of security guards were next to follow, charli's friends returning and watching on in amusement as you and charli stepped aside and the guards took over.

with their much larger forms and kyra falling silent at the manhandling, face burning red with embarrassment as you took a few photos, kyra's ears heating up as eventually she was freed and the small crowd clapped.

nodding her head at the stern warnings from centre management not to do anything like that again the crowd was dispersed and everyone went about their day, charli and her friends also heading off after teasing kyra who huffed and hung her head in shame.

"come on babe, lets go home." you grinned, tugging on your girlfriends hoodie as she wandered beside you with her arms crossed, having pulled her hood over her head as a means to try and disguise herself.

"careful, don't get stuck." you quipped teasingly as kyra slid into the car and shot you a glare, clicking her seatbelt in with a huff as you loaded your bags in the back and did the same.

"stop pouting! its your own fault you idiot." you laughed, leaning across the console to press a few kisses to the brunettes jutted out lips before shifting the car into drive.

"babe you sent the videos to the entire team!?"

[vivwritesfics]

Hold Me Close

okay so i've been in this situation, but it played out very differently. I just want to in some way experience it in a nicer way than i actually did.

She doesn't want a baby. Spencer comforts her through a pregnancy scare

When he was younger, Spencer Reid hadn't wanted kids. His own childhood hadn't been the best (not through the faults of his mother, Spencer loved her more than anything in the world), and he wasn't confident in his ability to look after a child.

But then JJ had Henry. Spencer had been, admittedly, freaked out by her pregnancy. But then he met Henry, the sweetest little bundle of flesh out there.

And then JJ had Michael and Morgan had his child. Spencer really could see himself coming around to the idea.

The only problem was finding somebody, somebody he loved, somebody he wanted to have a child with.

Spencer never expected to meet her after his stint in prison. He was damn near forty. And she was significantly younger, only in her twenties. Spencer had resisted. for the longest time he had resisted. But she wanted him just as much as he wanted her.

It didn't take long for them to collide, lips and tongue and teeth clashing together in a way the others didn't expect from their resident genius.

Spencer was full of regret after the first time. He remembered being her age, remembered all of the things he'd gone through at that age. And, to him, that was a lifetime ago. He'd completed countless cases, saved countless lives.

But she was patient with him. She stayed by his side, she took care of him in a way Spencer hadn't expected. It was hard not to fall in love.

Spencer knew she was young, knew that, where he might have been ready for a child, there was a chance she wasn't after a year together, after a year of being careful when they had sex, a year of wearing condoms and taking birth control, they had their first pregnancy scare.

She hadn't felt right for weeks, tried to convince herself it was just a stomach bug. But there was that feeling in the back of her mind, the one that told her she needed to take a test.

So, while she was cuddled up against Spencer, hands clutching her stomach as he read, she looked up at him. "Spence," she squeaked, and he tightened his arm around her.

The way she asked him to walk to the store with her, he'd never heard her sound so vulnerable before. Spencer couldn't say no to her if he tried. He held her hand the entire time, as they picked up the box of tests, as he paid for them.

And as soon took one, as she peed on the stick and set it down, he waited with her. She sat on the closed toilet lid and Spencer sat on the edge of the bathtub.

He couldn't help but watch the way she she hugged herself, eyes cast downwards as she waited for the results.

"C'mere," Spencer whispered and opened his arms.

Immediately she sat beside him and tucked herself into his side. "I'm sorry," she said as fat tears rolled down her cheeks.

Spencer kissed the top of her head. "You have nothing to he sorry about," he whispered, lips still against her hair. "What... what do you want to do if it's positive?"

It wasn't something they'd discussed before. Spencer knew he was ready for children, but she was so much younger, and she hadn't spoken to him about it before.

She shook her head, eyes squeezed shut as she buried her face against his chest. "I can't, Spencer," she cried. "I can't keep it."

"Okay," he said and rubbed her back soothingly.

After the seven minutes they checked the test. Negative. She was so happy she could have cried. "Thank God," she whispered and threw the negative test away.

It had taken it all out of her. With a hand on the small of her back, Spencer guided her back to the bed. He held her until she fell asleep, reading to her.

[girlgenius1111]

aftershocks

barça x reader

r tries to recover from the accident. it isn't as easy as she anticipates.

cw: panic attack, nightmares.

-----

Alexia was hovering. You'd been home for barely 2 hours, and she was sitting next to you, staring at you as you watched your allowed hour of TV, as if she was going to have to pick you up and take you back to the hospital at a moments notice. Her shoes were still on, her keys in her pocket. You knew was nervous and worried, but you wanted to not feel like a patient. Not when you were finally home. Well, at Alexia's home. Which had been yours before, and would, evidently be it again.

You shifted slightly, and your arm gave a twinge of pain at the movement. You winced unconsciously, barely noticing. Everything hurt, pretty much all the time; this was not anything special.

"What is it?" Alexia asked, sitting forward. She looked panicked, almost, and you had to remind yourself that she had seen you right after the accident. She was traumatized, and she was just looking out for you.

"I'm okay, Ale." You assured her.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

She somewhat relaxed back into the couch, though she still looked ready to leap to her feet at a moments notice. You glanced down at your phone, checking the time, feeling only relief when you noticed that it was an appropriate time to go to bed. You were exhausted from the short car ride home from the hospital, and you were also exhausted of being in the presence of people. You loved your teammates, and the nurses and doctors had been incredibly, but you hadn't had a single second to yourself since the accident, and you were dying to just sit. In silence. By yourself.

You stood up, slowly, almost amused by the way Alexia got to her feet right away as well.

"I'm gonna go to bed, Ale, I'm exhausted."

"Good, you need rest. Cariño, do you need help with anything?" You appreciated that she'd asked, instead of just trying to help you.

"Maybe up the stairs, but I'm good from there." You said quietly. You were not, nor had you ever been, good at asking for help. You had to learn, and fast, because you were pretty sure getting up the stairs by yourself was an almost impossible feat.

Alexia smiled encouragingly at you, proud that you'd asked for what you needed, and hadn't just shook off her request for help like she'd expected.

You made your way to the stairs, and Alexia wrapped a careful arm around your back, making sure to avoid your ribs, and your bad arm, and also the bruises that littered most of your abdomen. There were very few places you could be touched right now without feeling pain, and even then, you just had to grit your teeth and get through it if you wanted to be able to move anywhere.

By the time you got to your bed, clinging onto Alexia when she moved to let you go at the top of the stairs, you were sweating a bit, and breathing deeply through the waves of throbbing aches washing over you.

You sat on the edge of the bed, waiting until the waves had subsided somewhat before looking up again. Alexia stood in front of you, and if you didn't know better, you would have thought that she was the only with broken bones by the look on her face, like she was feeling everything you were feeling.

"I'm alright, Ale."

"You should have slept on the couch, the stairs are too much for you. Or maybe you should have stayed with Lucy, or Ingrid and Mapi, they're all on one floor. Maybe tomorrow we can-" Alexia's word flew out of her mouth fast, and you could barely understand what she was saying.

"No. I want to be here. Please." You said, feeling embarrassment grip you tightly at how pathetic you sounded.

"Okay, pequeña." Alexia said easily, although the worry lines on her forehead didn't relent.

She got out your pajamas for you handing them over, before hovering anxiously at your side.

"I've got it Alexia, I promise."

"Yeah, yeah. Of course. I'll be back in a couple to bring you some ice." With that, she left the room, shutting the door behind her. You managed to change by yourself, for the most part. You your athletic shorts off, and the pajama shorts on fine, giving the large bandage covering almost the entirety of the outside of your left leg a wide birth. You got the shirt off too, carefully removing your arm from it's sling, and doing your best to jostle your abdomen as little as possible as you pulled the shirt up and over your head.

It hurt. A lot. Something so simple, and you were biting your lip to keep from crying out. You wanted to lay down, or lean over, or do anything to relax your body a little, but you couldn't do any of those things without help, or else your ribs protested heavily. You gritted your teeth, getting the shirt over your head. You couldn't get it on the rest of the way, though. You would have to wait for Alexia. You were wearing a sports bra, though, so you wouldn't be completely humiliated.

You would be slightly humiliated though. There were tears welling in your eyes, and your shirt hung pathetically around your neck. You sniffled every time you inhaled, and you felt so useless. You couldn't even get your shirt on by yourself. You were frustrated beyond belief, and you couldn't do anything about it because doing anything hurt.

Alexia returned, knocking softly on the door.

"Come in," you said, voice cracking on the last word, much to your dismay.

Alexia walked in cautiously, hearing the motion in your voice.

"I need help." You said, sounding rather dejected.

"That's okay," Alexia said, moving to your side. She tugged the shirt over your arms, carefully. "Anything else?"

"I just want to go to sleep." You admitted. Alexia nodded earnestly, helping you to recline back onto the pillows. She sat on the edge of the bed, next to you. Once you were settled, she placed an ice pack on your ribs, made you drink some water and take some pills, before brushing the hair off your forehead.

"Thanks, Ale." You mumbled.

"Of course. It's going to get easier, pequeña, I promise."

"Yeah." You didn't sound convinced.

Alexia's face lit up after a second.

"I know what will make you feel better!" She got up, rifling through the bags of your stuff on the ground. She found what she was looking for, standing and holding it up with a ridiculous grin. It was your stuffed blue dinosaur, the one you'd slept with since you were a baby. The team always made fun of you because you brought him with you on away trips, until you'd gotten so tired of the teasing, you started leaving him at home.

You slept better with him, though, as ridiculous as it sounded, and you made a mental note to thank Ingrid for stuffing him in the suitcase, and presumably hiding him from Mapi, because if she had seen, you would have heard about it.

"What is his name? Chester?" Alexia said, handing him to you. You tucked him under your good arm, rolling your eyes. Alexia knew his name.

"You know it's Cosmo."

"Right, Christopher."

You rolled your eyes again, but your lips turned up into a smile. Alexia beamed at the sight, happy her idiotic bit had made you smile, even if it was just a bit. "Goodnight, Ale."

"Buenas noches, pequeña. I'll leave my door open, shout if you need me, okay?"

You nodded in the affirmative, and Alexia left you to sleep.

You passed out almost instantly, body and mind drained from your somehow exhausting day. While you'd been in the hospital, you hadn't had any issues sleeping, likely do to the pain medication they'd given you. You didn't dream, and sleeping proved to be a completely peaceful respite, mind wonderfully blank. Now, though, you were just taking over the counter stuff, which did nothing to help you sleep.

They had had a psychologist come talk to you about the accident, but you'd waved her away, saying that you were fine. You thought you were. The car ride home had been slightly terrifying, but you'd really barely thought back to what had happened.

-----

It was more of a memory than a nightmare that hit you, and at first, it felt like you were just remembering the event, than dreaming it. It was as if you were watching the accident from above, yet feeling everything as it was happening to you. It was in slow motion, the car approaching the intersection, you going when the light turned green. You saw the car braking late, tires screeching on the pavement even as the it barreled towards you. You watched yourself turn your head, seeing the car through the visor on your helmet, the way the front wheel of your bike turned just slightly. This was probably what saved your leg, you think.

Then the car is making contact with the bike, and you're flying off towards the ground, rolling for a while, as the bike crashed and slid away, too. Just as you stopped rolling, you snapped back into your body, feeling all of the pain you remembered. Your breath caught in your throat as you writhed around in agony. You were stuck in that moment, the few seconds after the crash you'd been awake, an endless loop of the most you'd ever hurt, and the most scared you'd ever been. The sky was going dark, and you couldn't remember if this was a dream or not, all you could think was that you were sure you were going to die.

-----

Alexia had been in and out of sleep, jerking awake at the smallest noise. She'd checked on you every time she woke up, and each time, found you peacefully asleep. She wasn't sure why she was so worried; you'd been sleeping fine, but she couldn't shake the feeling that she needed to be awake for you.

It was around 3 in the morning when she woke again, hearing what she thought was you crying out. She was frustrated, the last few days having been exhausting for her too, and she had rolled over to go back to sleep, convinced that it was just her imagination again.

She sat straight up in bed a second later though, hearing another sound from the direction of your room. She flew out of bed, down the hall, and into your room, freezing when she saw you thrashing around under the covers. Your face was twisted up in pain, likely from the movements your body was making in your sleep. It was obvious to her what you must be dreaming about.

Alexia moved closer to the bed, heart physically hurting in her chest at the sight of you, tears leaking from behind your shut eyelids. She said your name once, twice, then a third time when you didn't wake. She scanned your body for where she could possibly shake you awake without hurting you, and settled on your uninjured right arm. She grabbed it, squeezing gently.

"Pequeña, wake up," she said gently, watching as your eyes flew open. They scanned the room, wide and wet with tears, and when you realized that you were not laying in the middle of the street, instead in your warm bed in Alexia's house, you lurched towards her.

You didn't get very far, crying out loudly when you moved even a fraction of an inch. You became aware that every part of you still ached, and though you weren't sure why, allowed Alexia to ease you back down onto the bed, until you were no longer aggravating your ribs. You reached your good arm towards Alexia, and she grabbed it easily.

"You're okay, pequeña, it was just a dream," she said. You nodded, but your chest still rose and fell rapidly, and you looked to be confused as well as in pain. "You are here with me, at my house."

"Hurts," you choked out, still not really sure why every one of your injuries was aching so badly.

"I know, you were moving a lot in your sleep. Just relax, I'll go get you some more ice," she said, moving to get off the bed. You let out a little squeak in response, and Alexia gave in, sitting back on the bed.

"It was green," you mumbled after a minute, somewhat calmer, but still shaking lightly.

"What was green?" Alexia asked.

"The light. It was green. I didn't do anything wrong, and I still got hit."

Alexia's face grew stormy, and you misunderstood.

"I promise, Capi, the light was green, and I even waited a second before going, like you're supposed to." You implored, and Alexia shook her head, shushing you quietly.

"I know, I'm not angry with you. It wasn't your fault. It was the other drivers fault, and he will pay for what he did."You didn't spend too long thinking about that, mind drifting off to other things.

"I thought I was going to die," you said, looking up at Alexia. You looked scared, terrified really, and it was clear that the full weight of what had happened was only just now hitting you.

I did too, Alexia thought. I thought I was watching you die on the ground in front of me.

"You didn't die, you were never going to die. You are fine, you are here with me, and you are completely fine." Alexia said conclusively.

"I'm fine." You echoed.

"You're fine." Alexia promised again. You had settled back into the bed, clearly exhausted from the whole ordeal. As soon as your eyes closed, though, they would snap right back open, flashing to Alexia, as if to make sure she was still there.

"I am not going anywhere, pequeña. I will stay right here until you fall asleep."

You visibly relaxed, eyes shutting almost immediately, and this time, they didn't jerk back open. Alexia stayed, as promised, until she heard your breathing even out, and your grip slackened on her hand.

She made her way back to her room, contending with the odd feeling that this was not the only time you were going to struggle with nightmares.

-----

As usual, Alexia was right. Every night, it seemed, you had the same dream, and every night, Alexia heard you, came into your room and woke you up. You were both exhausted, completely and to your core. Your fourth night home, you woke up with your fourth reoccurring nightmare. It felt like every time, you laid on the ground, in pain, longer. You'd woken by yourself, and you knew you hadn't been very quiet. Alexia didn't come, though, so you forced yourself to calm down, before getting up to make sure she was okay.

Your anxiety levels in general had spiked since the accident, and you found yourself worried every time anyone went... anywhere. You crept down the hall, good arm wrapped around your abdomen. Alexia's door was open, as she'd been leaving it, and she was tucked under the covers, still out cold.

You turned away, realizing the toll this must be taking on her. Dealing with you and your injuries during the day, your nightmares at night, and the team and training dominated everything else. You were old enough to deal with nightmares on your own, you decided. Alexia needed rest.

Your version of dealing with the nightmares was slowly making your way downstairs, before cozying up on the couch and turning on the TV quietly. You eventually drifted back off, and that is where Alexia found you the next morning.

She was sitting on the other end of the couch, feet tucked under her, as she sipped at a mug of coffee. You'd woken, you realized, because she'd turned the TV to a football match, and the change in volume had registered somewhere deep in your subconscious.

"What time is it?" You asked groggily.

"Almost 10," Alexia replied, looking away from the TV when she heard you speak. "What are you doing down here?"

"I... I was hot in my room, and it was cooler down here." Alexia raised a single eyebrow at you, but you held strong, maintaining eye contact.

"You were hot, so you came downstairs to sleep on the couch under 3 blankets?" Alexia asked after a minute.

"Once I got down here, I was cold, but I didn't want to go all the way back upstairs, so I used more blankets." You said weakly.

"What happened?" She asked, as if you hadn't spoken at all.

"Nothing."

"Pequeña," she said, sighing.

"Nightmare." you replied. Alexia's face changed, realization washing over it. She seemed to have just figured out that you hadn't woken her with a nightmare last night.

"I didn't hear you, did I? I slept through it?"

You nodded your head.

"I'm so sorry." She said, voice filled with guilt.

"Don't be. You don't need to wake up every time I have a nightmare. I was fine, I am fine." You dismissed.

"These nightmares... they've been happening a lot," Alexia stated, watching as your body physically recoiled away from the conversation. You stood from the couch, prepared to leave the room.

"Hey, don't run away from me. You can't just pretend the nightmares aren't happening, pequeña, they won't get better if you ignore them."

"I don't want to talk about it." You replied firmly, continuing on your way towards the stairs.

"Did you remember I'm leaving this afternoon? I'll be gone for a night, we have that away match in Sweden."

You hadn't remembered, honestly. You'd been pretty preoccupied with everything else going on, and when Alexia had asked if you would be okay with her going to the game a few days ago, you'd agreed easily. You thought you'd be doing better, mentally and physically, by the time she had to go.

You'd already moved into her house, were disrupting her entire life, not to mention waking her up every night. You wouldn't be the reason she missed a match, even if being by yourself was miserable.

"I know," you lied. "It's fine." You didn't turn around, instead keeping your back to Alexia.

"I can stay if you need me. Or you can go to Lucy's, she's out injured. The blonde offers gently, tone completely sincere.

"No, really. It's fine. I'll be fine."

Honestly, Alexia didn't believe you for a minute, but she knew you'd never admit that you needed her. She hoped you'd realize that it was okay for you to need her, to need help, and maybe the only way to do that would be to go.

She stood, walking towards where you stood, facing away from her. She turned you around carefully, leaving her hands on your shoulders. "Promise me you'll call if something happens? Or Lucy?"

"I'll be fine." You insisted, shrugging out from her grasp, and going to hide away in your room.

"That's not a promise, pequeña," Alexia shouted after you.

-----

Alexia left later that day, rather hesitantly, but left nonetheless. You had settled on the couch, still pretty much not allowed to do anything more than walk short distances. You were expecting a knock on the door any minute now, because there was simply no way Alexia wouldn't have instructed everyone that she knew in the city of Barcelona to check on you.

Instead of the predicted knock on the door, your phone rang. Leah's contact popped up and you took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the phone call ahead. Aside from talking to Leah, briefly, over the phone in the hospital, you hadn't spoken to her since. Your screen time had been severely limited because of the concussion, but you knew Lucy and Keira had been keeping your national team captain up to date.

"Hello." Leah said, somewhat coldly. She was a worrier, and she was big on honesty, so the situation was obviously really hard for her. She was concerned, yes, but she was also angrier than almost anyone else. That was how Leah was, though. Her worry manifested as anger- she didn't like to be vulnerable and admit she was scared for you, so she covered it up with being angry.

"How long are you going to be mad at me for?" You complained.

"How long until you'll be back on the field after your stupid and avoidable accident?" Leah fired back.

You flinched slightly. It was avoidable. That was something that you couldn't get out of your head, that it was your fault. If you'd just listened none of this would have happened. It was your fault that everyone was worried, that Alexia had to see you so hurt, that she had to take care of you, that your teammates across the continent had to worry about you from afar. It was all your fault.

"Y/n? Are you okay?" Leah's voice jolted you from your spiral, and you forced a smile on your face.

"Yep! All good. What's up with you?" You asked, changing the subject. Leah looked at you, searchingly, not understanding what had just happened. You'd spaced out completely after she'd spoken, getting this fareway look on your face, growing incredibly pale. She worried something was going south with your concussion.

"Where is Putellas? I want to talk to her."

"Why?" You wondered suspiciously.

"Is she there?" Leah asked impatiently.

"No, she's gone for the night. Away game for the Champions League. She'll be back tomorrow night."

Leah's worry grew. "She left you there by yourself?"

"Leah, seriously I'm fine."

"You don't seem fine, kid. You just spaced out in the middle of my sentence, looked like you were going to throw up, and then snapped out of it. Is it your head? Are you dizzy? You should call for an ambulance just to be safe." Leah was rambling, feeling rather helpless.

"Jesus, Leah. No. It's not my head, I'm not dizzy, I. Am. Fine. Everyone needs to stop worrying."

The blonde wasn't dropping this easily. "Why did you freak out then?"

You paused. You could lie, Leah would be able to tell, and she'd probably call the Spanish military in to check on you. Or you could try to be truthful.

"You're right, it was stupid and it was avoidable. I shouldn't have been so reckless." You answer quietly. You watch as Leah's face loses all of it's frustration, melting into a completely soft, concerned one. She had the reputation for being harsh and strict, but really, she was the easiest to make fold. Her heart was too big to stick to any of the things she said when she was mad.

"I shouldn't have said that. I was worried, yes. You're an adult, though, and you can make your own decisions. And from what I've heard, the accident was completely not your fault."

You shrug indifferently. Leah tries to take a different approach. All the time she's known you, she's known you to be stubborn. She had to see how deep this guilt really went, and she knew how.

"Are you going to get a new bike?" She asked.

You scoffed. "No."

"Why? Because you don't want to, or because everyone else doesn't want you to?"

"Both I guess. Scaring everyone like that again wouldn't be fair, and all anyone would think about when I rode off on it would be the time I almost died." You pause, lowering your voice before aditting the next part. "And I don't really think I could ever get on one again anyway." Your cheeks flush red, and you avoid Leah's eyes on the screen. Admitting that you're scared is not something you're comfortable with.

"It's okay if you're scared, y/n. What happened was terrifying. There isn't anything wrong with having a hard time with it. Lucy mentioned you'd been having nightmares..."

"My god, has Alexia told everyone?!" You groan. "I'm not scared, they aren't nightmares, they are just dreams. I am fine. Tell everyone to stop worrying."

It's quiet for a minute after your outburst.

"I don't think you are okay. But I know better than to try to convince you to change your mind and be honest. Just... don't push everyone away okay? It's not fair to you. You need a support system right now. Let yourself lean on the people that love you."

"I'm fine, Leah."

She sighed deeply. "Well, if you decide to stop being stubborn, I'm always here for you, yeah?

"Bye, Lee."

With that, you hung up the phone, throwing down onto the couch, incredibly frustrated. You weren't being stubborn. You didn't need help.

You were worried about sleeping that night; even though you had been trying not to wake Alexia up, it was still comforting to know that she was there, just a room over. Now, you would be all alone in the house. You hadn't had any issues when you napped, though, so you decided to get ahead of what you expected to be a night of little sleep.

The couch was comfortable enough, and you left the TV on, the soft hum of voices, combined with the general exhaustion that plagued your healing body, quickly lulling you to sleep. It was afternoon when you dozed off, and afternoon still when you jolted awake.

It was the same nightmare, but it seemed that each time you had it, it felt more and more real. At the beginning, you could remind yourself it was a dream; now, though, you didn't realize that until you had woken up. Sometimes it even took a few minutes for you to get a handle on your surroundings, the pain in your abdomen from your rapid breathing not helping you.

This was one of the worse ones. The dream had lasted longer than ever, and this time, you could hear different people around you, telling you that it was your fault for being so reckless. People you loved.

You were sweating, laying on Alexia's couch, gripping onto the blanket wrapped around you like it was the only protection between you, and the death you had just experienced in your nightmare.

It took you a while to calm your breathing down, and by the time you did that, your ribs felt like they were on fire inside of you, burning from the movement. You realized you were crying, and that it wasn't because of the pain.

You'd almost died.

You were alive, you reminded yourself.

But you came so close to not being alive.

The voices from your dreams echoed around your head, and you could only cry harder, turning to push your face into the pillow underneath you. Nothing you did made the tears, or the body shaking sobs, stop.

After another 10 minutes, when you were seriously worried you were going to damage your ribs, you pulled your phone out. You should have called Lucy, really, but Alexia was the only one that had ever seen you even close to as upset as you were now, and you were sure she was the only one who could help you calm down.

Alexia's phone rang right to voicemail. She was on media today, you remembered, and she'd told you to call someone else on the team if she didn't answer, and if it was an emergency. You scrolled through your recent calls, clicking on the first teammate that you saw; Ingrid.

She answered after only two rings, and you could hear the sounds of the team hanging out and joking around in the background.

"Hi elskling!," Ingrid said, sounding happy to get a call from you. She'd been checking in a lot, which you appreciated, but you knew you'd been pretty distant with her, as you'd been with most of the team. Guilt was a funny thing, and bothering everyone more than you already had felt necessary. You hadn't called to catch up with Ingrid, though.

"Ingrid, can you get Alexia please," you choked out, swallowing a sob that threatened to escape you.

"Yes, of course." Ingrid's tone turned serious, and you heard her mumbling to Mapi, before she came back on. "What happened? Are you hurt?"

"No, I just need Alexia."

"Okay, Mapi's just gone to get her. She'll be right here, I promise."

"Thank you," you say, voice nothing but a broken whisper.

"It's going to be okay, y/n, I promise." Ingrid said, and you tried to internalize her words. You heard voices moving closer, one of Mapi, and one, unmistakably, of Alexia, but the panicked version of her voice. One you'd been hearing a lot of recently.

"Hey, pequeña, I'm here," Alexia murmured over the phone. "Talk to me, what's going on?"

"Nightmare. Worse than normal." You get out. You're still crying, and Alexia can barely understand you.

"Are you having a hard time breathing?" She asks.

"No, no I just can't stop crying. I don't know what's wrong with me."

"Okay, that's okay. Everything is okay pequeña. You're allowed to cry." Alexia assured you.

"It hurts, Ale."

Alexia felt her heart shatter at the hopeless tone of your voice. She couldn't fix this, not from so far away. She turned to Mapi and Ingrid, who were hovering nearby.

"Call Lucy, tell her to go to my house." She mouthed at them. Mapi whipped out her phone, walking away as she talked quickly into it.

"Sit up for me, cariño, can you do that?"

"Okay," you mumble.

"Do you have any water near you?"

"Yeah."

"I want you to take a couple slow sips, okay?"

You do as Alexia says, following her instructions for the next few minutes. You haven't really calmed down at all, though, and Alexia is relieved when she hears a knock on the door through the phone.

"Cariño, that's Lucy. Can you open the door for her?"

"I-I think so." You struggle to your feet, wobbling towards the door, and unlocking it with a shaky hand. Lucy is stood on the other side, and she moves forward as soon as the door opens, steadying you. You only feel relieved when you see her, all thoughts of being embarrassed pushed from your head, just desperate to stop crying.

"Luce is here," you tell Alexia.

"Okay, good. Do what she says, okay? And call me when you feel a little better?" You agree, hanging up the phone, and allowing Lucy to guide you over to the couch. She sat down next to you, rubbing your back softly.

"You're okay, kiddo."

"I can't calm down, Luce," you stutter out.

"You can, I promise. Have I told you about what Narla did the other day?"

You're slightly confused at the abrupt change of subject, but Lucy launches into a ridiculous story about Narla at the dog park. You don't really notice that the tears stop, that your body has stopped trembling so hard, until Lucy finishes her story, and miraculously, you feel significantly better.

"Okay?" Lucy asks, handing you your water, which you gulp down gratefully.

"Yeah. Sorry. Don't know what happened."

Lucy's expression is unreadable as she stares at you for a minute. She leaves you with the idea that there is a conversation to be had, but she doesn't begin it. You get the distinct feeling that she's waiting for Alexia to be there.

"I'll get you some ice." She says instead. She goes to the kitchen, and you recline back onto the couch, wincing at the pain. Lucy returns quickly, her brow furrowed in worry as she tugs your shirt up a little, and looks at the dark blue bruises of your ribs.

"Do they look worse?" She asks you, placing the ice pack on them.

"No, the same."

"You should call Alexia back, she'll be losing her mind." You shrug. "Y/n, come on. Call her." Lucy's voice is uncharacteristically stern.

"I hate worrying everyone." You admit weakly, but reach for your phone, clicking Alexia's contact.

Lucy watches as you talk to her, assuring her over and over again that you're fine, really. She can tell by Alexia's doubtful voice that the captain is thinking the same thing Lucy is; you needed help. Neither of them were quite sure how to get you to agree to it, though.

-----

didnt' mean for there to be another part but this got long so :)

[wyvernest]

open arms | fantasy AU

pairing: witcher*!miguel x f!reader

> In Sapkowski's works, "witchers*" are beast hunters who are given supernatural abilities at a young age to battle wild beasts and monsters.

warnings: smut, fluff, dryhumping, unprotected piv, cowgirl & a bit of missionary, mentions of possible infidelity, slight angst at the end? very slight

summary: miguel returns to the reader after months of wandering the Continent, and she welcomes him with open arms

Every time you hear a horse trotting on the stone-streets of the village, your heart flutters wildly in your chest. Maybe it's him.

Only most of the time, it isn't. It's always just a soldier or a tradesman. 

No. His arrival is incomparable . When it's him, the whole village echoes with the deep, steady sounds of his horse's galloping. He never slows down, until he reaches the very wooden gates of the settlement. Comes by with a storm, a strong gust that then leaves as swiftly as it arrived.

And sometimes, you almost wish another monster would start terrorizing the village. Nothing too perilous, of course, but grave enough so that the guards wouldn't try to take care of it. So that they'd wait for a Witcher.

But alas, it stays a dream. He has for sure found some other fairer maiden in the south. Yet you're still here, unwed and long-time devoted to such a cold hearted man.

But how can a cold heart hold you so? How can it make you feel so warm, so adored? Must be some kind of sorcery.

And despite your unfruitful attempts to forget the hunter, on one gloomy evening, you couldn't help but jolt to your window at yet another horse clanking its hoofs on the pavement. 

Your heart races. A cloaked man. You can't see his face, but his stature is very telling. It can't be him. He gets off his horse. He enters the tavern across the road.

You release a breath you hadn't realized you were holding in your chest, mentally slapping yourself for running to see who it is so hastily. You'd almost want to smack him for all the cold months he's made you endure without him, without a single word from him.

But you can't. Whatever’s holding your hand back is stronger than any pale vengeance, it's what made you rush to your window, what now made you run to your bedchamber to pick and choose your prettiest outfit.

It's nearing midnight when you hear a confident knock on your door. Formalities. He knows he could kick the whole frame down in all courtesy and you'd still jump in his arms. 

You try to act surprised.

“Miguel!” You tear yourself away from your working table, just for a second before stopping in your tracks. 

What if he doesn't want you anymore? And he's come to grace you with the very news of it?

He rushes to you instead; one, two strides and he's across the room with his arms around you. Not with a teary, hearty expression, but with the desperate, deep sigh of a man who had finally filled his lungs with fresh air after being buried in ice cold waters for years.

“I've missed you, I-” 

You wanted to go on about how you were first afraid he'd found someone else, then how that fear turned into an image of him falling in battle, but he stopped you.

With his face in his big, warm hands, his lips meet yours in an almost barbaric kiss. If you hadn't had him in other ways before, you'd swear he was a man starved. But you're aware of how patient he can be. Sometimes.

He tries not to break it, but it's slightly difficult with his left hand now down your back and his right clutching your prettiest skirts to the back of your thighs as he lifts you up with nearly frightening ease. 

His steps almost shake wooden floorboards of the house as he enters the bedroom, with you glued to his chest.

Your hands are running through his hair, a feeling you've missed so ardently. Your palms, with nothing but the memory of his soft, raven strands in them, used to feel as if whipped with burning lashes, where loving his touch had been.

“I need to have you. Let me have you,” He speaks in your face, his voice dripping with a roughness you've only ever heard from him after a hard won fight, tired yet still potent. 

In response, you start twisting your delicate fingers into his collar, as if you could simply drag the garments down from him. Not before a scorching heat blazes in his eyes at your acceptance, he places you on the soft mattress and starts ridding himself of his armor. Pretty light one, you mentally note. Bastard, he knew he'd be coming to see me. Came half ready.

As his tanned body starts coming to the warm light of candles, you study his form. He had changed. His shoulders are bigger, his arms are thicker. As a whole, he looks stronger. Your panties soak at the sight.

He sits on the bed and places you on his lap, pleased with himself, and you suddenly feel as meek and shy as you were the first time he had you.

You feel him heat up beneath you as your lips explore each other in the most tender yet passionate dance you never thought you would need the same way you need air.

The softest of moans echoes in your throat, encouraging him to push your thighs apart over his groin. Hot palms run over your middle to the swell of your ass and back to your shoulders.

The hardening bulge in his pants brushes onto your bare, glistening pussy, and he feels your slickness through the thin material.

You try to take the reins with kisses on his cheeks and neck while slowly grinding on his crotch. He can't help but send a rough smack on your ass, smirking at your surprised yelp.

“I like having you all over me like this.” he admits as you drop your weight on him, no longer supported by your elbows, relying on gravity itself to mould you together the best it can, two desperate lovers mangled into each other’s limbs like roses sprouting upon the same rod.

A faint smile blooms its way onto his lips, his heavy-lidded, crimson eyes inescapably drunk on you. He’s looking at you like you’re his very heart and soul, the last slither of hope for life in a place filled with nothing but death. A reminder for him that his hands were not only meant to break necks and bathe in blood, but to love and hold you, so dearly, so perfectly.

Heart swelling with joy and sincere infatuation, you seal your lips with his, urged by an uncontrollable impulse to taste him as if he’s the oxygen you need to breathe. His lips feel soft and tender as they move against yours, hands naturally snaking to cup his face and hold him in the dearest way you can.

The moment you break away you feel utterly intoxicated. His now rock-hard dick nudges at your pulsing cunt, begging for your attention.

Lifting yourself from him and untangling his sturdy arms from around your waist, you lower your dripping cunt onto his still clothed erection, anchored with a knee on each side of his ample thighs. He watches closely, hypnotised by the way you begin rubbing yourself onto him, the outline of his cock grazing back and forth between your folds without entering you.

He fails to restrain a grunt which you can only mirror with a whine of your own as his dick twitches against your clit, your legs nearly abandoning you at the memory of the orgasms he fucked out of you on the other nights, when he came banging on your door less tired.

Something downright filthy about the picture stirs you further, driving you to submit yourself to his pleasure completely.

He grabs at your hips, guiding their sway, making little to no effort to claim you, having you simply dry hump him for sport while he’s comfortably laying back on the soft cushion.

That only until he finally deems your performance enough to satisfy him, and twists you around, fucking you into his mattress until you're soaked in his come, you imagine.

You grind against him at an idle pace, rising and falling onto his raging boner, beads of precome already staining his pants where his tip presses against its confinement. Placing your hands on his navel, you feel his feverish skin and the trail of coarse hair that disappears below the waistband.

The featherlight touch of your fingers slipping underneath his shirt makes him dizzy and unbearably needy. You start rocking your hips back and forth over the length of his hard cock, using his firm abdomen for support.

His eyes follow your movements, the languid strokes of your hips and the soft bounce of your tits underneath your night dress.

Warm, large hands creep up your sides, skating beyond the dip of your middle and up beneath the cotton of your one and only piece of clothing.

His palms tense just below your heaving breasts, their touch unbelievably addictive. You automatically arch your back to lean closer to him, wordlessly imploring him to put an end to his teasing.

“Take it off, 'wanna see your tits.” his eyes motioning for you to undress and throw the garments anywhere across the room. You feel your face heat up and cunt clench at his bold request.

Without any protest you comply, managing not to halt your grinding while your arms cross over head, disposing of the top while missing the way his pupils expand at the sight.

His hands latch onto your breasts accompanied by a hitched breath of yours, fondling and squeezing them together, veins bulging in his massive arms.

Right when you try applying a tad more pressure onto his leaking cock he grunts, signaling you to carry on just like that. You abuse the newfound weakness, glancing down only to be met with the broad head inching out of his pants with every drive of your hips. It twitches into the snug warmth of your damp folds, a telltale warning that he's close.

You speed up, confident that you may finally witness his climax without the drowning haze of your own. The dream swiftly dissolves into euphoria as he grabs your waist, swiftly switching positions and getting on top of you.

He enters you harshly, and his thrusts are furious. He doesn't need much more to reach his end, as he guides you into raw, carnal bliss, the girth of his dick spasming along your damp pussy adding to the tightening knot in your womb.

The frail bed creaks and trembles under his force, as his head comes down to nestle in the crook of your neck, his whole body nearly veiling you completely.

He comes with a thunderous groan, kissing your neck with tender, wet lips before slipping out and letting himself fall back lazily on the bed.

You're quick to nestle yourself beside him, head on his heaving chest.

“I've missed you.” he rasps, ever so slightly gasping for air.

“Where have you been?” you speak softly, yet you accentuate the question by running your hand over his toned chest, then up by his jaw, hoping it'll break him.

“Everywhere I was needed.” he takes in a deep breath, “Everywhere but here.”

You chuckle, tightening your embrace, as much as you can. Even though you're well aware the whole town will probably throw you dirty looks for months after seeing him yet again enter your house at the hour of the wolf, you didn't care.

You even found it in yourself to feel lucky with his visits. With him. You hadn't given yourself to any other man in town, other than him. But he wasn't from here. And that made him burst with pride.

“You sure you haven't been messing around while I was gone? Am I gonna have to fight a godless bastard for your hand?”

“Have you been messing around?” you ask, with pleading eyes, glistening in the low light. He looks down at you.

“I might have gotten a bit lonely at times.” He jokes, and although something stings you harshly at the thought, you decide to trust him. Miguel was many things, but a dishonorable man wasn't one of them.

You playfully push him away, just an excuse to feel the meaty muscles of his arm and stomach in the process. As if you needed an excuse.

"I'd fight any witless whoreson if it meant having you for myself properly."

You fall into slumber soundly, lulled by the soft yet raspy sound of his voice, whispering sweet nothings to you about all the things he would do, if only he wasn't bound by his lifelong duty.

I WANNA WRITE MORE WITH THIS CROSSOVER ‼️‼️

[acidblum]

Cold • A.A.

Wife!Abby Anderson x Fem!Reader (AU)

PALESTINE DO NOT BUY TLOU

AO3 PART II MASTERLIST

Summary: it hits you after a couple of years being happily married to Abigail Anderson, the daughter of the most infamous man on the countryside. that maybe it wasn’t happiness, and that maybe she’s hiding something from you.

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, MINORS DNI ,ANGST, INFIDELITY, GUNS, reader getting called a whore, lowk traumatic, Abby being unfaithful and downright rude.

Rating: EXPLICIT!!

Word Count: 3.05k

A/N: hey y'all, idk how to feel about this one….this is my first fic ever, i've basically taught myself English, anywhoo have fun reading y'all, luv yaa, likes and reblogs are very appreciated.

(this fic was written while listening to Cold by Chris Stapleton)

waking up to feeling up the right side of the bed trying to get closer to your wife. nothing greets you but utter coldness. no head kisses or the pleadings of five more minutes, not even a kiss goodbye.

dread fills you stomach while you look at the bedrooms door, getting up and asking yourself if you made a mistake that’ll make your wife go to work without waking you up with her kisses. leaving you needy and promising you that she’ll reward you with the best of time the minute she’s back.

you put on your clothes and your boots, going to check on the livestock. pathetic that you need them to cheer you up.

tending to the chickens for a bit, before checking on your horse Bear. gifted to you by Abby's father on your last birthday.

he always had a soft spot for you as a feared man, he’s the most gentle with you and showed his support to your marriage.

you scratch at his head, while he tries to stick his chin to into your palm, making you giggle a bit before you head inside to get dressed properly to go pick up some necessities from the farm market.

walking into the market you greet the farmer

“howdy lady Anderson”

“well hello mister Banks, I'm just here to pick up the usual, I'm a little bit short of tomatoes and beans, making Abigail's favorite dish today” you smile at the thought of her.

“she is most certainly lucky to have you for a wife lady Anderson.”

you smile it him waiting patiently, he comes back with more then you asked for, handing them to u and shooing you away

“don’t even worry about it, i’ve put more in there of your favourite fruits, go enjoy them”

you saunter your way back to the farm, knowing that Abigail won't be home for another two hours or so, the feeling of dread still haunting you while you try to brush it off.

she's been your wife for a good while now, you can sense something’s new happening that she’s not telling you about, she’s been constantly on edge lately.

you do not want to give into the feeling and ruin the happy facade that should be greeting your wife when she get's home.

you get the food ready, laying it on the table wiping you hands on the apron you've got on, you head to the bathroom to freshen up, taking off the apron folding it neatly lest Abby jokingly mocks you for always leaving your stuff all over the place.

you come out wearing a comfortable attire and right on time you hear Abby's footsteps that you know very well, your heart jumps with excitement of seeing her, you give her a moment to unwind tending to your hair before you walk out of the bedroom's bathroom and into the Livingroom's area.

seeing her standing there with undereye bags, obviously very wound up from today's work whatever it is, she looks very disheveled you walk up to her towering form.

"hey baby how was work today" hugging her hunched form while she takes off her boots before she stand up, wrapping her arms around your waist, smelling her soap of pine on your neck. you lean back locking eyes with her patiently, you tilt you head at her pouty face.

"well you know my dad but it was alright, nothing more then work"

you hum at her, nodding at the table "i made your favorite, just the way you like it" before you tilt your head for a smooch she looks at you reluctantly before giving you one.

your eyes widen before concealing the feeling of shock over how this is the first time she doesn't kiss you willingly, or asks for another one in return, you keep your hands on her chest fixing her collar and unbuttoning the top three buttons for her.

before your eyes catch on a spot of red maroon lipstick. the look of fear written all over you face, spit piling up in your mouth you feel that you might puke, you start pawing at her shirts collar pinching it between your fingers. trying to wipe it off to no avail.

she notices the frantic look in your eyes "wha-" before glancing at your fingers that are now painted with the remnants of the lip print left on her,  clearing her throat before gently sliding your hands off of her, and walking to sit down at the table, taking off her hat, laying it down on the table.

while your form is still there where you greeted her by the door, in absolute disbelief, you've never worn a red maroon lipstick.

and it might've been one imprint but it felt like it was all over her, and now it was all over your fingers. laughing at you for doing everything you could to keep your wife happy, just for you to be greeted like this.

she clears her throat looking at you before extending her arm to you with a pleading look "come sit down honey." you try to muster the ability to move, walking to her slowly accepting the defeat she made you feel, holding her hand where the sun hits her face painting her as a martyr, a goddess you had no problem worshiping. day and night, and that's how she reward's you.

you try to sit on the chair opposite her but she pulls you into her lap wrapping her left arm on your midsection, feeling her breath on your neck before she kisses your cheek and your neck in small quick kisses, you think that maybe this is her way of apologizing.

 getting off of her lap you walk to the counter pouring yourself a glass of wine

"really you're gonna drink this? instead of keeping me company and sitting down with me?" 

"i am with you Abby, i am always with but it seems that you're the one drifting away from me" holding the cup close to you. trying to feel an ounce of comfort, you feel none.

she shrugs you off and starts eating like a hungry wolf which tells you of how hungry she is, you pour her a cup of water before she chokes on the food you cooked for her eagerly, wanting nothing but to please her.

just to now hand her the cup with disdain written all over your face.

"what's her name?" 

she hums not getting who you're asking about "who's name honey" her mouth full of food.

"the whore that dared to fucking kiss you with her red lipstick just for me to see" your voice trembling and you can't but find yourself choking up and tears start filling your sad eyes.

she wipes her mouth with the cloth before gulping the last of cold water you've given her, giving you the coldest stare she could ever give you

"you better watch your mouth honey, don't forget who gave you this" twirling her finger all over the place as a means to remind you to just be thankful, telling you that you are her property now.

when she's done been claimed by someone other then you, her whole presence feels different to you.

you shake your head hurriedly. "jerry won't like that you're being unfaithful to me"

tears streaming down your face, trying to calm your frantic breathing thinking about whoever that gave her a reason to be exactly that to you.

unfaithful.

she snorts at you making you look at her " so you think my dad will like you accusing his only child and successor? of fucking infidelity?" her voice rises with each word she utters. eye bloodshed with no feeling of remorse or a hint of sadness.

she stands up putting the cup down off of your hand, holding your hand in her's, prompting you to look at her while touching your knuckles tenderly.

"i need you here, she means nothing to me, you’re the one i yearn for day and night honey"

bringing your hand to her mouth, kissing each of your knuckles slowly.

looking at you from under her eyebrows, with darkened eyes. she kisses your ring cladded finger as means of reminding you.

you look at her teary eyed, heart broken like no other motherfucker in this damned land, never knew she could ever be so cruel to you, feeling her coldness evaporating into your pores.

you smile at her weakly before she starts wiping you tears messily chuckling at you, obviously not taking your feeling in consideration 

the sun starts to set as the weather gets colder by the minute, making you shiver in her hold.

she tightens her arms around your waist. leading you into the bedroom you glance at the wall where she keeps her shotgun hanging off of it like a trophy.

you shake your head of the ill thought that just came up into your mind, jerry will have your head if he finds out that you're even considering doing it.

she starts undressing and you watch her go into the bathroom turning the water to take her usual cold shower, leaving you to tend to you wounded self.

getting ready for bed. you sit on the rocking chair facing the slightly left open bathroom door.

watching her tall figure under the water stream, in any other day she'll beg to take it with her and you'll do so willingly.

getting lathered up in her favorite pine soap, letting her pin you to the wall just the way she desires you to be. breathing hard from her loving on your body the way she likes. having your heated bodies under the cold stream of water. 

you start chewing on your nail, tears welling up in your tired eyes. with the thought of how you and Abby met.. whispers of how she can treat better then anyone on this forsaken land, hushed words of pure love between the two of you.

she introduced you to her father even after you've voiced your concern of him not taking a liking to you, he ends up gifting you a horse for your birthday. after you've pointed at how much you like horses.

she was very eager to settle down with you, seeing you as the perfect choice for her, was it a friend of hers that oh so innocently gave her a kiss on her shirt’s collar, or is it a new woman whom catched Abby's attention?

a woman who's just passing by that she felt she wont linger too long, so she can have as much fun as she could with her?

you notice Abby coming out of the bathroom with a towel around her hips, wiping your eyes as to not let her see you still thinking about what happened, you get up to light the candles.

you see her sitting down on the bed. putting on her pants and giving you a come hither motion, candles lit you walk to her and sit in her lap facing her with you hands on her shoulder's, she holds you waist in both of her palms. running them up and down your waist looking in your eyes intently, as a means of reading what you're thinking of.

"you're mad at me honey"

"n-no i could never Abby, i swear"

she moves her hand to hold at the back of your neck harshly

"you swear for me huh? think you could make a fool out of me?"

"no no Abby i swear i love you i-i swear"  you reach back holding her hand trying to get her to ease her hold on you, her piercing eyes looking into yours.

"awh baby you love me, but you had to ruin the day for us didn't you?"

she kisses you, your body going slack on top of her naked chest, kissing her always made you feel at ease even in tense situations. humming into your mouth she starts kissing down you neck while you hold into her wet hair, you start moving your hips on top of hers for a lick of friction but getting none.

"h-hah Abby please" 

you know you shouldn't even be here, on top of her. begging her for more, you should get on bear and ride as far as you could.

but you know it'll only be a failed attempt before the Anderson's find you and drag you back to Abby, you'll only disappoint jerry by running away. no one to turn to making them practically your only family. with nothing under your name, u are helpless.

you decide to give Abby what she wants, whatever she'll do you'll take willingly, she flips you on your back undressing you on top of your marital bed, leaving her paw prints all over your naked body making you clutch on the pillow hard from her intense way of loving you, not letting up until you writhe under her.

trying to not ruin the moment by remembering the woman with the red lips.

she kisses your head goodnight and snuggles into you holding your midsection for life, catching a glimpse outside the window, you see nothing but utter darkness and the shades of the trees, no sound other then her slow breathing and the sizzling of the candles burning, you get up with trembling legs sliding her arm off of you. 

as quietly as you could you stand in front of the shotgun, contemplating and questioning your choices, if you are really willing to do this.

"fuck it" you mutter to yourself before picking up the shotgun, checking the bullets, you think of how Abby should've never taught you how to shoot, you bet she'll never see it coming.

how foolish of you to think that.

the moment you go back to the room, you see her sat leaning on the wall with her silenced gun in her paw. you try to conceal the shiver that runs through you at her burning gaze.

you try to square up your shoulder, failing as her mouth starts to tilt upwards as a mocking gesture, still pointing the gun at her.

entering the room, she shakes the handgun at u "u thought u were smart didn't cha honey?" she looks at where u were lying down and then back at you. 

shaking her head disappointingly "your father won't be proud, hell my father won't be proud if we die, at each other's mercy." she clicks the gun making you flinch.

she stays silent for a moment before clicking her tongue and continuing.

"she has the most beautiful green eyes you've ever seen honey, it was very hard for me to reject her advances"  

" then let me go Abigail...please?" you look into her eyes pleadingly you know the outcome but you can't help but beg her for mercy on your soul, she points the gun at your head.

"we're both stuck my love, you by duty and me by love" 

you lower the shotgun, laughing out loud at her dumb poetic remark. leaning with your hands on your knees laughing frantically while she looks at you quizzically with a smile on her lips.

"by love? wha- what fucking love are you talking about, in this state Abigail? i stay at this forsaken farm, tending to you, your fucking spoiled chickens, sucking up to you and your lineage just to get by" firing a bullet at the wall in a moment of pure rage you drop the shotgun running out of the room, hearing the bed creak.

unlocking the door and running out onto the cold grass tickling your feet uncomfortably, it is raining heavily.

you glance behind you while running to the staples to get to bear, she's behind you with only her pants on, aiming the shotgun at your running form, your heart thudding with fear as you trip on your own feet trying to get up just to trip again, Abby is right there in front of your cowering form

"a-abby i'm s-sorry" you plead at her

"no you fucking aren't, you wanna act like a whore? because trust me honey, i'll treat you like one"

she brings the shotgun to your shoulder, nudging at your shivering form as if you were infected with something greater then fear.

“get up and walk, you do not want to get on that horse of yours” she spits her words at you.

looking at her questioning your choice of marrying her you try to stand up, she yanks you straight holding your arm tightly, cutting the blood circulation from your arm.

“a-aw” you wince

“you wanna get on that horse? well i’ll just have to shoot the both of you”

walking you inside double locking the door and hanging the shotgun as if nothing happened.

“go shower before you get into bed” she goes to wash her hands and feet, comes out of the bathroom nodding towards the wide open bathroom door.

you get in and wash your hair and body hyperventilating under the stream of the shower, cursing yourself time and time again trying to cry as silently as u could. 

you get out of the bathroom with a towel around your body, looking everywhere but at her.

you wear the first thing you find in your shared drawers, getting under the covers hugging your shivering body tightly, before she cuddles into you.

oh how defeated you just felt, you could only imagine the life you could’ve built….far away from the Andersons.

[aziraphales-library]

Hi! I've noticed that almost every post-s2 fic has some form of Crowley being heartbroken (drunk and/or sleeping usually). (Usually these fics also include Aziraphale having been wrong during the Final Fifteen and needing Crowley's help.)

Are there any post-s2 fics out there where Crowley *isn't* heartbroken? I'm hoping for ones where there's a secret plan and Crowley was headed on a covert mission at the end of s2, but anything where he isn't just falling apart would be great.

I do get a bit tired of seeing so many sad, drunk, heartbroken Crowley fics. Here are some where he is Not Like That...

Betrayal Stings Like a Serpent’s Bite by Inherently_human (G)

When the Supreme Archangel walks into the bookshop, he is shocked to still find his demon there. And he's singing and tidying, of all things. Guilt tears at Aziraphale, but Crowley reassures him of the only truth that matters: he trusts him.

Aziraphale vs. The System by gatoradeeh7x3 (T)

Crowley decides to take Nina and Maggie's advice and speak with Aziraphale following The Kiss. He proposes a one-month trial period as Aziraphale's second-in-command. Follow along as Aziraphale tackles the challenges of institutional reform while Crowley waits patiently for his angel to see reason.

Two sides of the same coin by Sylvestris123 (T)

After Aziraphale is recalled back to Heaven to become Supreme Archangel, Crowley tries to pick up his life. Before long they find themselves in the next battle to save the Earth - this time from the Second Coming and the Final War.

Deep Blue Sea (or: Crowley's Thoughts About Coastal Erosion) by Imagined (T)

Aziraphale looks at Crowley. Several complicated emotions cross over his face—his familiar, well-known face, and Crowley can precisely pinpoint everything that is going on with his brows and his lips and the pinching of his eyes, can read in the lines of Aziraphale’s expression the way he is working up to something— “Who are you again?” Aziraphale asks, and Crowley crashes like the wave against the rocks.

Five years after he left for Heaven, an angel plummets out of the sky, with no recollection of much of anything, really. While navigating his own complicated feelings, Crowley is left to wonder what happened to Aziraphale, and most notably… to figure out why their wings are turning grey.

A Light in the Dark by cyankelpie (T)

After leaving Crowley to return to Heaven, Aziraphale Falls, certain that no one will help him pick himself back up. Crowley proves him wrong.

On the Side of the World by profdanglais (M)

The demon Crowley has gone rogue. Precisely what “rogue” looks like on a demon who was never anyone’s idea of “manageable” is something neither Heaven nor Hell is currently equipped to deal with. Hell is rebuilding and Heaven, under the auspices of the Supreme Archangel Aziraphale, is focused on spreading the Word of their prophet, known as the Second Coming--of what, exactly, remains unspecified. Neither side seems to remember who Crowley used to be, nor have they bothered to change the passwords. The Metatron has no interest in demons, rogue or otherwise. His Plan is going swimmingly and he couldn't be more pleased. Now if only he could figure out who’s responsible for all these unauthorised miracles that just keep happening, far and wide, on planet Earth.

- Mod D