#and some people in my team started attacking me after i left

[fuckacoke]

Finishing off a bottle of wine and crying after finding out the people I talked to every day for weeks in a mobile game don't feel the same way about me as I do them.

Of course they don't. For them, it's just something to fill their spare time. For me, it's my only form of social interaction.

[astrophileous]

A Well-Kept Secret

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Synopsis: While working on a case in D.C., Spencer didn't expect to hear a familiar name being mentioned as the sole surviving witness. Or, in which the team discovers Spencer's well-kept secret.

Warning(s): established secret relationship, mentions and/or depictions of death/physical violence/gun violence/injury/attack, signs of trauma, survivor's guilt, curse words, hurt/comfort, nudity but it's not sexual, allusions to sexy times, mentions/implied alcohol consumption

Word Count: 5900-ish

Author's Note: hiya! I decided to write this lil piece after seeing the fic challenge posted by @imagining-in-the-margins abt the family/found family trope. I had a lotta fun writing this one and I think it's got potential to be something more. So pls comment or message me if you wanna see me exploring with this idea (either turning it into a series of connected one-shots or multi-parters). Don't forget to like/comment/reblog and give me a follow :) I hope you enjoy! 💞

Criminal Minds Masterlist

When Hotch had notified the team to haul their asses up and drove all the way to D.C., Spencer never expected that it would also entail him having to suffer through a mini heart attack.

The series of attacks around D.C. had been dominating the 6 PM news segments in the entire country. What was initially perceived as a suspected sequence of robberies gone wrong--since the first two targets to have been hit were a bank and a prestigious auction house--soon turned into a nationwide panic as people realized that there was a bigger game at play.

After the third attack was found to have occurred in the headquarters of one of the top, up-and-coming renewable energy startups in the states, the D.C. police finally started to entertain the idea that perhaps they hadn't been dealing with their usual petty robbers at all.

And naturally, that was when the BAU had been called in.

As soon as the team entered the Metropolitan PD bullpen, they were struck with the smell of panic and the sight of chaos.

"Agent Hotchner?" A middle-aged man in a gray shirt and blue tie appeared in front of them. "My name is Detective Mills, we spoke on the phone."

"Of course, Detective." Hotch shook the other man's hand. "This is my team. Agent Prentiss, Jareau, and Dr. Reid. I have two others already at the latest crime scene. What can you tell us so far?"

"As you can see--" Detective Mills gestured towards the frenzied scene behind him, "--the entire D.C. area is going haywire after news broke out about yesterday's attack. The public is demanding the city to be put on lockdown, and I'm getting pressure from above as well. We received information that nearly half the city has called in sick today."

"A classic response to mass paranoia," Spencer noted.

"Well, paranoia or not, I just want to start getting some answers." Detective Mills began to lead the team further into the bullpen. "I have every pair of hands I could spare in this. If they aren't out there chasing leads, they're here interviewing the victims, friends, and families."

"Any luck so far?" Emily asked.

"Nothing more than what you've probably seen in the files."

Detective Mills pushed open the door to an office in the corner, away from the havoc in the center of the station.

"Lieutenant Jeffreys retired a couple of weeks ago. The lucky bastard." Detective Mills scoffed jokingly. "It's the most decent space I can spare at the moment. Think you'll be fine in here?"

"It's more than enough, Detective. Thank you," Hotch replied.

"What about the witnesses from yesterday's attack? Have you had the chance to interview them?" JJ asked as the rest of the team started setting up.

"Some of my men are with them right now. But I doubt they'll have anything useful. Just like the other two cases, the attack happened while most of the office was out. The rest left behind were DOA at the latest scene."

"They're rapidly devolving," Spencer pondered out loud as he skimmed over the case files. "They went from killing a non-compliant security guard during the first attack to executing almost every witness in the last one."

JJ raised an eyebrow. "Almost?"

"It says here there is one survivor." Spencer showed the word he had underlined in the case overview to JJ.

"Yes, there is," Detective Mills confirmed. "I had one of my men talk to her. There's not much she could give us. Thing is, she wasn't even supposed to be there."

"What do you mean?" Emily asked.

"She didn't work in that office. She was a consultant who just happened to be visiting. Poor girl's pretty shaken up. She hid in a supply closet the entire time. She was the one who found the bodies and called 911."

"So, the perpetrators never checked the rooms while they were holding the victims hostage?" Hotch questioned.

"Not according to her statement, no. See, I thought it weird myself. Do you have any idea why?"

"Not sure." Hotch hummed, deep in thought. "Perhaps our UnSubs didn't think to check because they didn't know someone was in there. Detective, you said all of the victims were the only employees of the company who didn't attend the event downtown, correct?"

"Yeah, they were the only ones who weren't listed as attendees. Why? Do you think those people were specifically targeted?"

"Unfortunately, we can't rule out anything yet this early in the investigation," Hotch said. "We need to talk to the witnesses to know more. JJ?"

"On it." JJ nodded. "What can you tell us about yesterday's sole survivor, Detective?"

"Not much. I didn't interview her personally, one of my men did. She works at a consulting engineering firm in town," Detective Mills replied. "I believe her name is... what is it called?"

When Detective Mills mentioned the name, Spencer's heart instantly crashed inside of its cage.

"What?" His hand had stopped scribbling on the board. In a matter of miliseconds, Spencer had crossed the room towards the doorway where Detective Mills was standing. "What did you say her name was?"

Dumbfounded, the detective stared at a dread-stricken Spencer before spelling out the name once more.

"Why? What's wrong?" Detective Mills asked in confusion.

JJ touched Spencer's shoulder. "Hey, you okay?"

But Spencer, either too alarmed or merely choosing not to acknowledge both questions, asked instead, "Where is she? I need to see her."

"In the waiting room by the pantry--"

Spencer didn't even wait for Detective Mills to form his complete thought before dashing out. JJ exchanged a glance with Emily following Spencer's sudden exit, perplexed by his odd turn of behavior.

"I'll go get him," JJ announced before leaving the room, chasing after a flurry of wavy hair and a wool-knitted purple vest sprinting across the bullpen.

The roaring commotion inside the station was almost loud enough to rival the intensity of your racing thoughts.

Almost.

At this point, you didn't think there was anything you could do anymore. The vivid images from yesterday's attack were playing continuously in your head. There was nothing you could do to stop them.

Rubbing your eyes from exhaustion, you mourned the loss of sleep that you failed to get the previous night. As if the waking nightmares weren't torment enough, the images had somehow translated even more cruelly into your subconscious. You could barely close your eyes for three seconds without feeling like you had been brought back to that place.

Cold, cramped, and alone. Fearing for your life in the tiny supply closet that smelled more like death than bleach.

At the sound of the door opening, you quickly turned around in your seat to hide your face away from prying eyes. The last thing you needed at that moment was having a complete stranger seeing you fall apart in the middle of a police station.

But when the voice came carrying the sound of your name, it wasn't the voice of a complete stranger you had heard. It was a voice you knew more than you probably knew your own. A voice you loved and a voice you had longed to hear for the past gruesome twenty-four hours.

"Spencer?" You turned back towards the door, seeing the face you adored most in the whole world staring back at you.

"Sweetheart."

At the speed of a lightning, Spencer dropped to his knees in front of you and gathered your broken little pieces into his arms.

Spencer's touch was everywhere. Your hair, your neck, your shoulders. As if he was checking whether you were real. That you were actually there inside his arms, and you were not a simple imagination that his mind had conjured up.

Surrounded by the safety of his embrace, you could feel the shattered pieces of yourself beginning to mend once more.

"Spencer," you uttered his name again as you pulled away, still in disbelief that he was physically there with you.

"I'm here," he promised you as he cupped your face gently.

"Spencer, what are you... How..."

"My team is working your case. We arrived half an hour ago," he explained simply. "Sunshine, why didn't you tell me? I thought you were still in Alaska?"

You had previously apprised Spencer that you would be hard to reach during your trip since you would be spending most of your time at the power plant site where cellphone receptions were scarce. So when an entire day went by without him ever hearing from you, Spencer didn't have any reason to be worried.

Never in a million years would he have ever predicted that you'd be caught in the middle of a hostage situation.

That thought alone caused Spencer to squeeze your hand a little tighter than usual.

"I'm sorry, Spence," you said sincerely. "My trip ended earlier than planned. I arrived back yesterday morning. I actually wanted to surprise you last night. After yesterday's... incident, I wanted to call you, but my phone was shot--"

"Wait, what? You were shot?"

"No! No, baby. Not me. Just my phone," you assured him. "But that's why I couldn't call. I did attempt you once using this station's phone, but it went straight to voicemail."

At the new piece of information, the colors immediately drained from Spencer's face.

"That was you? Fuck. I didn't--I didn't know. I rejected the call because I didn't know it was you."

"Hey." You stopped his guilty rambling with a hand to his cheek. "It's okay. I'm okay. I'm just glad you're here."

And then, because Spencer needed to make sure that you really were okay, he pulled you back into his arms and held you even tighter this time.

"Uh, Spence?"

The sound in the doorway snapped you both out of your mutual reverie. You looked up to see a blonde woman there, staring in an equal mixture of shock and confusion at the sight in front of her.

Spencer begrudgingly untangled himself from your arms before getting up to approach her.

"JJ, do you mind if I do the cognitive for this one?" Spencer asked.

The woman--JJ-- shifted her eyes a few times between you and Spencer. "Um, of course. I'll just go and inform Hotch. Tell us if you need anything."

After JJ's departure, Spencer closed the door again to award you both a much needed privacy.

He grabbed a wooden chair from the corner and dragged it before sitting down right in front of you.

"I need to start the interview now, sweetheart. Think you're up for it?"

Your whole body went rigid for a matter of seconds before you forced it to restart again. It was gone as soon as it came, but Spencer noticed it just the same.

"Look at me," Spencer ordered softly, using his delicate finger to nudge your face up until he was looking straight into your eyes. "I know it's scary. I don't want you to have to relive yesterday either, but it will help us catch whoever did this."

"I've told the police everything I knew yesterday. I was hiding the entire time." Like a coward. "I didn't see anything. I don't have anything else that could help you."

"I know that, sunshine. But as I've told you before, our method is slightly different. We won't be just focusing on what you saw, but also what you smelled, or maybe even heard." Spencer took your hands then, squeezing affectionately. "I'll be here with you the entire time."

The nod you gave him was hesitant, but it was a start nonetheless. You listened intently to Spencer's words and closed your eyes just as he had instructed.

"We'll start at the beginning," you heard him say. "Why don't you tell me why you went there yesterday?"

"I, uh, received a call from my friend, Nick, after my plane landed. We had been communicating back and forth since his company seeked my consultation for one of their upcoming projects," you began. "I wasn't even supposed to work because I had requested the day off. But Nick said it didn't have to be a formal meeting, so I agreed to meet him."

"Tell me what you remember after arriving at the office."

Your mind traveled back to that specific time one day prior. You remembered walking into the place and seeing its unusual state of vacancy even though there was still a good half an hour left before lunchtime.

"I just assumed everyone had gone to lunch earlier and shrugged it off," you recalled.

Spencer nodded his head. "Did anything else strike you as out of the ordinary?"

"No? I don't... I don't know. It was only my second time being there, I'm not sure what was normal and what wasn't."

"Okay. That's okay. You're doing good so far, sweetheart," Spencer quickly interjected, trying to get you to calm down before your distress could turn into a full-blown panic. "Now, what did you do next?"

"I followed Nick into his office."

Nick was keeping his promise true. It hadn't felt like a formal meeting, just two old college buddies reminiscing about the past and discussing possibilities of the future that, of course, included the company's upcoming project which you would be working on with him.

"I excused myself to the bathroom at some point," you added. "When I first heard the commotion, I thought nothing of it. It's like the idea that a group full of armed men had taken over the building didn't even cross my mind. I mean, why would it? I was on my way back to Nick's office when I saw them."

You recalled turning a corner after exiting the bathroom only to see those figures carrying machine guns and shouting at everyone to get on their knees or put their hands above their heads. You remembered sprinting the way you had come from and opening the first door you could reach that just happened to be the supply closet.

"Let's go back to the moment you saw them," Spencer urged gently. "How many people were there? Do you remember any conspicuous detail? Maybe one of them had tattoos or spoke with an accent. Anything that distinguished them."

Taking a deep breath, you tried replaying those crucial seconds slowly in your head.

"There were four of them. I couldn't see much. They were all wearing identical black clothes."

Suddenly, an unexpected piece of memory rushed to the front of your mind. You opened your eyes in shock, meeting Spencer's curious gaze that had been kept intently on you the entire time.

"I think at least one of them is a woman," you told him.

Spencer's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Are you sure?"

"One of the guys said something about... fucking this place up. And then she laughed. I heard her. It was definitely a female laugh."

"Good. That's good."

"Yeah? Do you think it'll help?"

Spencer nodded assuredly, bringing his hand to leave calming strokes on your head. "I know it will. You've done a great job, sweetheart. I'm proud of you."

The praise Spencer gave eased the tension in your shoulders. As if having been granted fresh air after decades of confinement, you were finally able to let yourself breathe again.

Spencer continued his loving strokes on your head. Little by little, the weight of his touch melted the resolve you had built into a pathetic puddle on the floor. Without its mental shield protecting you, your tears sped forward, gathering in your eyes until they spilled on the vast path down your cheeks.

"Hey, hey." Spencer's voice was laden with panic after seeing you start to cry. "Sunshine, what is it? What's wrong? Talk to me."

"I-I just... God." You struggled to get the words out in between sobs. "I'm a coward, Spencer."

"What?"

"All of those people... They died because I was a fucking coward."

Your admission tore into the air before stabbing Spencer right through his chest.

"Sweetheart, you know that's not true."

"But it is!" you cried out, pulling away from Spencer's grounding hold around your shaking body in favor of your own arms. "I was a coward. I ran and hid because I was too scared to die. Too scared to fight. If I had just tried a little harder, I could've called for help. That way, maybe all of those people wouldn't... And Nick wouldn't..."

A haunting image flashed behind your eyes. The image of Nick's limp and lifeless body on the floor, among those of the others. You remembered crying next to him, punching his chest, body, and arm despite having seen the gunshot wound on his forehead. It took you another five minutes before you eventually managed to gather yourself together, found a phone, and dialed 911.

Not that it made any difference. They were all already dead.

Spencer could hear his heart breaking at the sight of you curling into yourself, recoiling from his touch because you somehow believed you didn't deserve his affection at that moment. If Spencer could just transfer all of your pain towards him, he would. Seeing you beat yourself up that way over something that happened and was done to you was the worst kind of torture he ever had to endure in life.

And Spencer had been through more kinds of torture than the general population in the world.

Deciding that he had seen enough of your self-deprecating torment, he reclaimed your hands inside of his palms and urged you to look at him.

"Are you hearing yourself right now?" Spencer asked incredulously. "How can you even think that way? Sweetheart, what happened to those people, to Nick, it is not your fault."

"B-but, if I hadn't run away--"

"Then you would've died, too," he cut you off. "Sunshine, there were four of them with machine guns. No one stood a single chance against them. Those people were there to kill. There was nothing you could've done."

It was a hard pill to swallow, but Spencer needed you to hear it.

He needed you to know the truth no matter how unacceptable it was.

"If you hadn't hid from them, we would've found seven bodies there instead of six. And I--" Spencer took a shuddering breath, "--I would've lost you."

Your shoulders deflated at his revelation. "Spence--"

"So please--" he searched your eyes then, using his thumb to sweep away the remaining tears under your eyes, "--stop holding yourself accountable. I promise I will do everything I can to find those people and make them pay for what they did."

Spencer's vow triggered a new wave of tears that compelled you to sink into his awaiting arms. He let you stay there until you had cried your tears dry. It was something he also secretly needed for himself after suffering through the short-lived horror over the mention of your name in relation to the heinous case. He just needed to make sure that you were okay.

A few minutes passed by with you in his arms. Eventually, Spencer had to tear himself away to finish his job. He asked you to wait as he wrapped up the transcript of your cognitive interview, along with his professional report over it.

"I need to run somewhere real quick. I promise to be back in a couple of hours," he notified JJ as he handed her the interview report. "Tell Hotch for me? Thanks."

Without waiting for his friend's reply, Spencer rushed back to the waiting room before leading you out to take you home.

Back at your apartment, Spencer guided you towards the direction of your bathroom as soon as you had stepped into the threshold.

"Are you trying to get me naked, Spencer?" you remarked playfully after he refused to let you take your clothes off yourself.

"Yes." The gleaming mischief in your eyes caused him to flick your nose lightly. "Just to get you ready for your bath. Get your head straight, will you?"

You scoffed at his back as he turned around to check the water temperature in the tub.

Once you were submerged safely inside, Spencer left the bathroom to give you some privacy. Meanwhile, he began rummaging through your drawers to pull out a change of clothes, a towel, and a clean sheet for your bed.

By the time you exited, Spencer had changed your bedsheets and lit one of your favorite candles on the bedside table. He asked you to sit down on the bed as he kneeled before you, helping you put on the pajamas he had picked out with little prints of sunflowers on them.

None of Spencer's touches were sexual. They swept over your skin with the care of an artist handling their most precious work. When his eyes found yours, you swore you could almost cry from the intense adoration that seemed to shine so brightly out of them.

As he guided you to lie on the bed, you were surprised to see him following suit. He got under the covers with you, pulling you close to tangle every inch of your limbs with his.

"I love you, Spencer," you admitted to his chest, heart heavy with the deep appreciation and overwhelming affection for the man beside you.

Spencer looked down at your confession, finding his favorite pair of eyes already looking earnestly at him. Instinctively, he reached for your chin with his fingers, tugging your face upward until he could capture your lips with his.

The kiss was slow. Careful. Filled with silent promises and discreet reassurances. When you both parted, Spencer didn't pull himself away. Instead, he let his forehead touch yours while his eyes stayed closed.

"Will you be here when I wake up?" you asked quietly.

"Yes, sweetheart. Now go to sleep."

Although the two of you knew his answer was a lie, you both chose to pretend otherwise. You knew Spencer still had responsibilities to fulfill, along with a promise to you that he intended to keep. You knew that when you woke up later that evening, Spencer would already be long gone, and you would be forced to bask in the traces of himself that he had left behind.

But for now, Spencer was still there, in the comfort of your bedroom, lying on the bed next to you. And that knowledge alone was good enough for you to finally drift further into the land of sleep, surrounded by the warmth of Spencer's loving embrace.

"I'm telling you," JJ insisted, looking at her entire team minus Spencer and Hotch. "There was definitely something going on between them. Why else would he request to take over the cognitive for me?"

"Maybe he was feeling generous," Rossi deadpanned, earning an unimpressed glare from JJ.

It had been a full week since the BAU team had arrived in D.C. to investigate the series of gun attacks in the city. Just the day prior, they had successfully made their fourth arrest, bringing this case to yet another satisfying conclusion in the eye of justice.

If nothing else was amiss, they should have been on their way back to Quantico in less than an hour. In the meantime, though, JJ felt obliged to gather her team members in the middle of the bullpen to share her suspicion about a certain scene she had accidentally caught on their first day working the case.

"Pretty boy did seem more emotionally involved in this case than he usually does, though," Derek pointed out.

"Right? Right?" JJ replied almost too enthusiastically. "Come on, aren't you guys at least half as curious as I am about who this mystery girl might be? Don't you wanna try finding out who she is while we're still here?"

They all stared at each other in hesitation.

"Or, we could just ask Spencer directly and let him explain?" Emily suggested, receiving incredulous looks from the other three in response. "Yeah, you're right. What did you say her name was again?"

"I don't remember," JJ answered.

"It must be listed in the files somewhere, right?" Derek immediately sprung into action, reaching towards the scattered case files that might contain the name they were looking for.

"Just to be clear, I am not taking any part in this." Rossi sighed.

"Got it!" Derek waved the offending file in hand, giving it to JJ, who instantly began skimming over it.

"Alright. Says here that her name is..."

JJ read the name aloud when unexpectedly, an answering sound sprouted from behind them.

"Yes?"

Every single one of them turned in shock at your voice. You smiled at their wide-eyed expressions, waving your hand a little awkwardly in the air.

"You!" JJ exclaimed.

"Me?"

Emily nudged JJ in the ribs, making the blonde woman wince.

"Y-you're the witness from the startup case, right?" JJ said, trying to rectify the situation.

"That's me."

"What can we do for you, Miss?" Rossi asked, stepping forward and away from the rest of the group.

"I'm actually looking for Spencer. Do you know where he might be?"

"Spencer Reid? You know Reid?" Emily asked.

Before you had the chance to reply, the man in question came strolling into the bullpen, rambling animatedly to Hotch who was walking beside him. The moment Spencer caught sight of you, though, he immediately abandoned Hotch's side and rushed towards where you were standing.

"Hey, what are you doing here?"

"Looking for you, of course," you told him, fitting yourself easily into Spencer's side as his arm went around your waist. "Hi, Hotch."

The older man called your name in greeting. "I got your message. You wanted to talk to me?"

"I wanted to ask you--well, all of you, actually--" you glanced around at the other team members, "--if maybe you all would let me treat you to lunch? As a thank you for your hard work on the case."

Hotch nodded in response. "It's fine with me. We don't have to be back until tonight, anyway. Everyone?"

Instead of replying to your offer, Emily voiced aloud the question that was circling everyone's mind.

"You know her?" Emily looked at Hotch before dragging her eyes away towards you. "And you know him? You know each other? How?"

You gazed up at Spencer's eyes, seeing them shining with the same mirth as the one you felt dancing in your stomach.

"I guess this is supposed to be the part where I introduce myself, isn't it?" You chuckled.

Extending your palm, you shook each of their hands while telling them your name, them responding back with theirs even though you already knew who was who long before you had even met them.

"I still don't understand," JJ admitted after you finished shaking her hand. "How did you know Spencer and Hotch?"

Once again, you looked into Spencer's eyes, a question bouncing around in yours. Spencer's nod of affirmation was the only go-ahead you needed.

It's time.

"I'm Spencer's girlfriend."

"She's my wife."

You turned your head towards Spencer in shock.

In front of you, Spencer's teammates were causing an uproar.

"Wait, what?" Emily stared dumbfoundedly.

"You have a girlfriend?" Derek asked in disbelief.

"You're married?!" JJ shrieked.

"Hold on a second," Rossi interjected, holding his palms out as if to tell everyone to stand down and calm themselves. "So which one is it? Girlfriend or wife?"

And that was how you found yourself sitting in the private VIP room of your favorite restaurant in the city with some of Spencer's closest people on earth.

"That's the craziest story I've ever heard," Emily pondered in astonishment.

Rossi, Derek, and JJ were all wearing an identical look on each of their faces after hearing the story of how you and Spencer met: by drunkenly getting married in Vegas after only knowing each other for barely one night when you both weren't even twenty-two yet.

"If someone were to tell me yesterday that there's another member of this team who also went to get married while drunk in Vegas, I would have never even thought of mentioning Spencer's name," JJ mused.

At your curious expression, Spencer explained, "Rossi also got drunkenly married in Vegas to his third ex-wife,"

"Why didn't you two get a divorce?" Emily suddenly asked.

It was something that everyone who knew about your situation with Spencer had questioned at one point or another. The real answer was because you and Spencer had both been reluctant to go through the nasty and lengthy legal process of getting a divorce. Therefore, you decided to part ways without doing anything about it, vowing to only track each other down if one of you ever needed to end the bond because of another impending marriage or any other urgent matter.

But that reason alone was usually not enough to appease people's curiosity. And over the years, you and Spencer had poked fun over that particular fact by coming up with the most outrageous lie you could muster up.

"She wanted to get a divorce," Spencer fabricated smoothly. "I persuaded her otherwise because I had this inkling that someday we were gonna fall in love."

Usually, any other people would coo sweetly at Spencer's statememt.

But these weren't any other people. These people were Spencer's family in more ways except flesh and blood, and even without their profiling skills, you knew they could see right through Spencer's little deception.

"That sounds like bullshit to me. Doesn't that sound like bullshit to you?" Emily asked, turning to JJ for support.

"Yeah, that was bullshit, alright," JJ claimed vehemently, prompting an innocent-looking grin from Spencer and a series of chuckles from everyone else.

"When did you two start dating, then?" Rossi spoke up from one end of the table.

"About two years after Vegas, right?" you estimated, to which Spencer nodded in confirmation. "He strolled into my place of work while he was on a case, and then he asked me out."

Derek sat up on his seat after hearing the new information. "Wait, when was this? Why didn't I know about this?"

"The beginning of my second year in the BAU," Spencer offered. "Elle knew."

"Elle? Elle Greenway? You told Elle but not me?" Derek looked offended.

Spender shrugged nonchalantly. "Elle was assigned with me that day."

"Unbelievable." Derek slumped back down in his chair. "Penelope is gonna freak when she finds out what she missed today."

"Penelope? Oh, she already knows," you told him.

That revelation earned a collective disbelief look across the entire table.

"Yeah... I, uh," you cleared your throat, "I actually just went shopping with her two weeks ago."

"You've got to be kidding me," Emily muttered.

"You told Penelope but not me?" Derek sounded hurt as he pointed his accusatory stare at Spencer. "You even told Hotch!"

"I didn't tell Garcia. She dug through my history and found it out herself. Had to bribe her with candies and chocolates for a whole month to keep her quiet," Spencer grumbled. "And I had to tell Hotch. We needed to add her number to my emergency contact list."

Despite Spencer's concise explanation, Derek still seemed unsatisfied by the whole ordeal.

"How long have you known?" he finally decided to ask Hotch.

"A while," the man answered from his seat at the opposite end of the table from Rossi. "They even babysat Jack a few times for me."

"I don't believe this," Derek scowled. "Pretty boy's got himself a girl for the last six years, and I never knew? Outrageous."

"Technically, we've been married even longer than that," Spencer responded, as if he was unaware of the imminent glower that Derek was sending his way. "Eight years since Vegas."

"That's longer than any of my marriage," Rossi remarked before sipping his drink.

The laugh that resonated upon Rossi's little comment elicited an affectionate smile on your lips.

"So, you live in D.C., then?" JJ asked, at last stirring the conversation away from the topic of your and Spencer's secret marriage-slash-relationship.

"I do, yeah. But most of the time, I live out of my suitcase," you answered. "My firm has clients all over the country. A few overseas, as well. I'm lucky if I even get to have an entire week to sleep uninterrupted in my own bed."

Even then, you truthfully quite enjoyed the work you had to do. You didn't mind having to travel some place new every other week. In fact, you somehow believed that your constant need to travel for your job, and Spencer for his, was one of the reasons why the two of you worked so well together.

Although people might think that two adults who had to travel for a living were a recipe for a disastrous relationship, you and Spencer had so far proven otherwise. Because of your respective schedules, you could sympathize more with the other anytime they had to go somewhere urgent for work. It only made you savor every single second you spent together because of how much precious each one of them became.

The rest of lunch unraveled with the same bucket of smiles, jokes, and laughter. It felt good to finally tell the few people who meant the world in Spencer's life the truth about your relationship. It was also a huge relief to see them opening their arms and welcoming you into the family without an ounce of hesitation.

"Hotch?" Spencer called out after everyone exited the restaurant. "Will it be okay if I stay in the city for one more night?"

"As long as you promise to be back for tomorrow's briefing," Hotch reminded sternly, but the meaningful look he passed over you before he entered his vehicle spoke of a thousand things left unsaid.

"It was so nice meeting you," JJ said as she took you in her arms. "And I'm sorry again about your friend."

"Thank you. And thanks for all of your hard work in catching those guys."

"Of course, it's what we do." JJ smiled as she pulled away. "Invite me and Emily the next time you and Penelope hang out, okay?"

"Will do," you promised.

You watched as every single one of them scrambled into the two black SUVs, waving your goodbye until the cars drove out of your sight.

"I think that went well," you commented before looking up at Spencer. "Do you?"

"I think it went as well as it could."

"So--" you began, circling your arms around Spencer's neck, "--we have more than twelve hours until you're expected back at Quantico. What do you wanna do?"

Spencer nudged your nose with his. "I can think of a few activities we can partake in."

"Really?"

"Really."

Just as he was a hairbreadth away from pressing his lips to yours, you suddenly tore yourself out of Spencer's arms.

"Like getting some frozen yogurts?" you asked giddily, smirking at the dumbfounded look that you managed to put on Spencer's face.

"Fine. Let's go get some frozen yogurts."

Spencer had to hide his amused grin at your elated squeals. He was more than content at that moment to let you produce those addictive sounds at the mere prospect of frozen yogurts.

But later that night, he had a whole different set of activities lined up to pull those same sounds out of you once more.

And it might or might not potentially involve an entirely different yet creative use of frozen yogurts as well.

Spencer simply just hadn't decided yet.

[pinkisthenewangst]

°`🍨: Kei Tsukishima + First Years x GN! Reader

°`🍨: Being a bet hurt so damn much

You knew boys were dumb with their stupid puberty that makes them go crazy. You knew from the beginning that first year high school will probably feel and also end like middle school all over again but you still felt disappointed. Disappointed to actually believe that it will not happen again and to fell for a tall, handsome and surprisingly intelligent boy until someone tries to attack his ego. You should have known that suddenly getting friends and being confessed to was too perfect for your boring and lonely life.

Realizing that was when you stand beside the clubroom door of the volleyball team. Silently listening to the boys, who talked while changing to their sport outfits. You didn't want to eavesdrop but when you heard your name, you couldn't stop listening. Clutching the straps of your bag in your hand. Biting on your trembling lips while blinking away your tears. Placing the fabric of Tsukishimas Jacket to your mouth so you wouldn't accidentally let out a sob. Doing all of this just to hear that everything was a lie. Being friends with you out of pity. Your relationship only being a bet. It hurt so damn much. "Oi Tsukishima ! How does the lover boy feel to almost reach the third month of your relationship ~?", you heard Tanaka's booming voice through the door. Then it was silent for a short moment until the tall one answered: "Made me realize that relationships robbing me from my precious time and I can't wait to be free, but seeing your faces when you lose is actually worth it". Ouch. Being a bet wasn't something new to you and he knew it. He was the one that told you about it in middle school and now he does the same. You heard more chaotic screaming and laughing, not really able to believe that all the first year knew about it and also the second years you saw as reliable senpais. You then also heard Kageyama talk: "I'm not good with people like her, it feels suffocating to even just stand beside her." Then Hinata continued: "At least she isn't boring!". It hurt so damn much. Not able to listen anymore, you slowly walk down the stairs. Walking past the third years that greeted you happily but you only gave them a nod and a small bow before you started to sprint so they couldn't see the tears in your eyes. You knew boys were stupid but you were also dumb for thinking it would get better. You wished the world would just swallow you whole to stop your suffering.

It felt weird. Eating alone after having finally some people to talk to about hobbies and homework. It also felt rude to just run and ignore them when they tried to talk to you. But you were so hurt and unable to trust them anymore. Not knowing what was a lie, a bet or the truth made your heart crumble in your chest. Seeing them look confused also fed the guilt in your stomach. You should be a better friend. Less boring, less annoying and more how they wanted you to be but this was not possible. Changing took a lot of energy that you didn't have. All the joy you felt until this tragic day, left you completely. Only an empty feeling remained. Looking at Tsukishima from far away didn't make your heart beat faster anymore, it only brought tear to your eyes. Seeing the chaotic duo of Hinata and Kageyama only made it hard to speak without your voice cracking. Feeling the hand of Yamaguchi on your shoulder when he tried to give you something back, made you tense and stiff. Walking through the school made you fear that everyone knew how stupid you were to fall for this bet and how they would start to laugh at your suffering. It took Nishinoya by surprise when you jumped out of your skin when he greeted you at the entrance of the school and how fast you ended your conversation when it sometimes went on until he needed to run to his class. Ah they suddenly started to feel it. The empty place since you weren't there anymore. It even bugged Tsukishima more when he didn't get any answers from you after he messaged you. It also started to hurt. Made his heart sting seeing you not looking at him anymore. His fist shook beside him seeing you smile at Sugawara but something like sadness took over his feelings when your face dropped to a neutral expression when the third year disappeared. Something wasn't right but he didn't know how to fix it. In the first time of his life, he felt heartbroken and unable to decide what to do. How unfortunate that everyone around you and him were just so stupid and dumb.

°`🍨: Tadaaaa ~ Another one but it's not really Tsukishima focused but it also is 🤔

°`🍨: REQUESTS ARE OPEN until 25th of Aug.

[fictionalmenxyn]

𝐀 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐦? 𝐎𝐫 𝐚 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞?

Pairing: firefighter!eddie x cop!reader (fem)

Warning: light language (once mentioned ‘shit’), injury, threats, attempt arson attack, blood, reader takes a hit (stitches but NO mentions of needles) and I believe that’s all!

Summary: 118 and Y/n had been called to an accident, nothing strange. The manager of the diner said that she could smell a gas leak but they recently had that checked. Y/n asked a few questions to the manager, revealing more information. That’s when it all clicked Y/n.

--༒⚠︎︎༒--

Just another normal evening in Los Angles, while patrolling. Driving in your ford suv cop car, your radio came on. And with a familiar voice (May) it spoke “dispatch 813 P28, we’ve got a call from a person who has said there was a supposed car crash at the ‘come dine’ diner on Lakewood avenue” you nod subconsciously nod “copy that dispatch, on my way.”

You put your sirens on and head start to the scene.

You pull up already seeing Athena’s car there. You park up and hop out, putting your sunglasses on, you walked over. Seeing the 118 fire engines already there, Hen and Chimney helping some witnesses that were at the diner.

“Hey, Athen, what’s it looking like?” You approach Athen. She had her hands in her pockets as she replied “looks like the driver made a run for it after crashing, Bobby said once they had showed up, driver was no where to be seen.” You hummed “that’s odd, you think they’re injured? Looks like a bad crash..”

You look at the scene in front of you. The large window of the diner has half a car doing through it. Smashed glass everywhere, tables and chairs knocked over or broken. “Well, nobody besides the get away driver seems to be in bad shape…” you look around after Athen spoke. Seeing only a couple and a mom with her child. Only minor injuries, cuts and bruises at most. You asked “you think it’s a dui?” Athen answers “I mean, possibly? It’s half six on a Friday evening..”

Athena’s name had been called, so you were left to yourself for a moment. Sticking your hands into the arm parts of your utility vest. Glancing around the scene, you saw the 118 team by the engine. You smiled and walked on over. Seeing Buck and Ravi standing next to each other while Eddie sat on the small ledge on the engine. Hen and Chimney were at their fire ambulance patching people up as Bobby was talking with other fire captains and police officers.

You approached the three guys “hey you three.” The guys look over, Buck and Ravi almost in sync “hey.” Eddie chuckled at the two then looked at you “hey, mi amor” you smiled “hey, heard of anything from here?” Buck replied “nope, just a crash… without the driver” you nodded. Eddie asked “talked to any witnesses yet?” You shook your head “just got here five minutes ago. Athena told me she already had officers asking round” he nodded.

After some chatting a person in a retro outfit approached us. “Hi um, I think there is something up with the diner..” you raised an eyebrow “what’s wrong with it? Besides the car?” The person spoke “I’m the manager of the diner, i went back in the back to my office… something is smelling real bad in there… I think it’s a gas leak, but we just had that checked not too long ago..” the guys all geared up once again and went inside. You escort the manager to the side and out of the way. You ask some questions and chat with the manager. She told you how she saw a guy running out of the car, but he looked to be unscrewing something at the back of the car.

The guys came back out, Eddie walked over and spoke “hey, it’s a gas leak, but it seems to be unscrewed and damaged like someone went at it…” you look to the manager and she replied “nobody has been down there since the handyman had been down there..” Eddie added on “yeah, somebody left a rusty old wrench down there… couldn’t have been a handyman’s wrench..”

…A rusty wrench? Nobody had been down there? Saw a guy unscrew something at the back of his car? Gasoline? No… a gas leak and gasoline? That wouldn’t cause a fire… just yet.. but it could’ve… Your thoughts clicked on…you thanked the manager for her time.

Eddie looked at you in confusion.

You quickly made your way over to the car. You mumbled “thought so…” Athena looked over “everything good, Y/n/n?” You called out “this wasn’t a simple crash… I think this was intentional” Athena walks over “what?”

“I was with the one eighteen.. then the manager complained of a smell, a gas leak, Eddie checked it out and told me it looked as if someone had purposely damaged it. Before that I was questioning the manager; she said a guy had ran out of the car. But before he fled the scene, he was unscrewing something.” You gesture to the gas cap on the car. Athena clicked on too “maybe he had some sort of match or lighter on him?” You added “and maybe he fled because he saw first responders.” You jog over to the manager, “hey sorry to bother you again, but can you tell me when you saw the guy run out the car?” The lady responded “around six twenty..” you gave her a small smile and thanked her. You then jog over to Eddie.

“Hey babe, around what time did you and the team arrive here?”

“Uhh I’d say around six twenty? Why?”

It all clicked together, “this is an attempted arson”

“Wait what? Y/n! What?!”

You jog back over to Athena, “yep, we guessed correctly, one eighteen arrived right as the suspect would’ve caused the arson.” Athena nodded and headed over to Rick and explained our theory.

You walked over to Eddie, you explained everything you and Athena had just discussed. You stood next to Eddie and now Buck. Glancing around at the crowd that had formed over the time you had been there.

You notice a guy, looked about early twenties maybe late teens. A black hoodie and dark jeans. You saw a large stain on the bottom of his jeans. He looked fidgety or on edge, more like… suspicious.

You tilted your body towards Eddie “hey, don’t make it suspicious, but the guy in the crowd, black hoodie, dark jeans, looks young 18 maybe 20 at most.. looks fidgety, he’s got a big stain at the bottom of his jeans..” Eddie and Buck glanced over. Buck replied “yeah, he seems off, huh?” You nodded in agreement. Eddie suggested “you gonna go over and talk to him?” You nodded “worth a shot..”

You casually made your way over; as you got close enough the guys saw you. He panicked and darted off in a direction. You called out “we’ve got a runner!” Athena looked over. She saw the guy running, also saw you hot on his tail. Athena started to run too, following you both.

You pressed your thumb on the radio “dispatch, this is Sargent Y/l/n, got a possible suspect of the diner accident on Lakewood avenue, he’s on the run. Male, late teens early twenties, black hoodie, dark jeans with large stain on the bottom, pale skin brown hair.” You call out “hey! You won’t be able to run forever!”

You kept chasing the possible suspect. He caught himself on his foot and miss stepped; giving you an advantage. You practically throw yourself on him, taking him to the ground. He tried to fight you off of him, he threatened “get off me, I’ll- I’ll hurt you!” You reached for your cuffs “not today, you’re in custody of attempted arson” the guy lashed out. He reached in his hoodie pocket. Grabbing a small pocket knife, waving it around as he tried to get you. You tried your best to dodge it.

Feeling a slight sting in your face, you felt blood trickle down your cheek. You look down at the guy. He threatened again “get off! I will do it again!” “You will not-”You tried to grab his wrist, sadly he was quicker.

You felt a sharp burning sensation in your arm. You see you have been stabbed, lucky for you, it was only the tip of the blade. You look down at the now ripped arm of your shirt, along with a dark patch forming against the navy of your uniform “shit…”

You heard a voice “Y/n/n!” Athena ran over just in time with two other guy police officers. You got up as the two guys took over and detained the guy. Athen looked you over “he cut you…” you nodded. “He got me in the arm too.” Athena saw the blood that started to trickle down your arm.

Athena pressed her thumb on her radio “this is Sargent Grant, we’ve got an injured officer, Sargent Y/l/n, she’s been stabbed in her arm and a cut to her cheek.” We could hear Bobby through the radio “bring her back to the scene, Hen and Chimney will take a look at her.” “Roger that, Cap.” You both head back to the scene.

Eddie spotted you quicker than anyone. He ran over, he held your uninjured arm “baby, you alright?!” You nodded “yeah, it’s not too bad, it was just the tip of a pocket knife.” Eddie still looked concerned, you couldn’t blame him.

You were now sat on the ledge of the ambulance, Hen is stitching your arm up while Eddie watched over her shoulder. Chimney asked “so you got the guy now though, right?” You nodded “after I tackled him to the ground, and his exchange-” gestures to the stab wound and cut to your cheek “-Athena and two other cops came over, they took over as Athena did a once over on me.” Chimney and Hen nodded.

Once Hen was done, you thanked her and stood up. Now only having one long sleeve on your navy uniform shirt. You looked to Eddie “see, I’m all good now, Ed, I promise..” you open your arms for him. Which he gladly walked into.

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he leaned down and wrapped his arms around your waist. He whispered “you’re a badass for taking that guy down, but still gotta be careful, love.” You chuckled softly and replied “it’s all apart of the job, besides I didn’t know he had a pocket knife on him.” He hummed in agreement.

“Well expect some tlc from Christopher and I tonight, yeah?” You smiled at his comment “yeah…” he smiled.

He leaned closer to your face, “alright, I’ve gotta head back to the station, see you in four hours?” You smile and nod “see you in four hours, my love.”

He glances to your lips momentarily, then he leans in and kisses your lips softly for a moment. Savouring your kiss, he then pulls away reluctantly. “I love you, see you later…” you smile and respond “I love you too, babe.” He waved then jogged over to the fire engine. You wave to the rest of the team before heading back over to your cop car and getting in it. Continuing the rest of your shift with one long sleeve and a new set of stitches. You pulled off and continued the rest of your four and a half hours of your shift.

All you could think about was your tlc that Eddie mentioned. Most likely a movie night in, eating popcorn or candy with your favourite boys, Eddie and Christopher…

--༒⚠︎︎༒--

[ronwestbreeze]

my dear mates

pairing: jake sully x reader x neytiri x tsu'tey

summary: headcanons of how you become mates with jake sully, neytiri, and tsu'tey

author's note: this was for fun!! i also might do a second part for the way of the water just to experiment what it would be like if tsu'tey was in it ahaha. also yes, tsu'tey is alive and is olo'eyktan and jake is just the toruk makto. anyway, enjoy <3

link to the story inspired by this hc!!

before pandora

you were born on a dying planet. your mother was a scientist and researcher. then your mother got accepted to go to pandora for the avatar program. she was so excited but she knew she couldn’t take you with her at that point. instead of letting her feel guilty, you only encouraged her to go.

five years later in the year 2150, you were actually able to make some progress with your mother’s work. you had gathered a research team and some military protection to be able to go over to the amazon rainforest and protect what was left of it. for two years you were able to keep life there protected, that is until all of it was destroyed. deforestation. you were surrounded by fire and destruction, running to get to safety as the rainforest died around you. all of your hard work, all of your mother’s work was gone just like that. and you were helpless, you couldn’t do anything about it.

around the same time, you had been approached by a few rda agents. they were recruiting you to go to pandora since you were the best option they had to continue your mother’s work there. but that only confused you.

“i don’t understand.” you frowned at them, heart racing. “my mother went to pandora to start her new research there. why do you need me to continue it…”

the answer dawned on you before the agents told you. you mother had died on pandora. and because of this, you were the only one who could understand her work which is why the rda agents came for you. this opportunity was all you had left to continue your mother’s legacy and work. so you agreed to go to pandora.

getting to pandora

it was 2155 when you came out of cryosleep. you were then led onto a ship that flew you down to the planet. only the ship was nearly shot down by the na’vi and you experienced quite the rough landing.. once it did land and the ship opened, you were met with multiple na’vi surrounding the ship, bows pointed at you, even some of them had guns much to your surprise.

that was when you met tsu’tey and jake sully. tsu’tey was the olo’eyktan while jake was toruk makto. the former was wary of your arrival and immediately wanted to either kill you or send you back.

“we need her!” one of the humans, norm spellman, argued for you. “please, she’s of no danger to you. one of our doctors, dr. l/n sent her. you know her, right? dr. augustine’s friend! grace wanted her here too!” norm looked to jake pleadingly. “jake, help me out here!”

jake spoke to tsu’tey in a language you were unfamiliar with back then. the language of the na’vi people. jake then turned to norm and you, speaking in english. “put her in one of the cells at hells gate.”

“jake—“

“if we can find proof that she was sent by a doctor here, she has to stay in a place where she can be watched.” jake looked at you again, his face guarded. “if what your saying is true then there should be no problem, right?”

it took you a few seconds to realize that he had addressed you at that point. you nodded quickly, “yes, um, yeah.”

they had you placed in a holding cell at the abandoned hell’s gate for a couple of days. of course the humans there fed and clothed you. norm had then explained that a year prior the rda and the omatikaya clan had gone to war and the rda were exiled, so you coming a year later after all of that was seen as suspicious to the na’vi. now that you had some context, you then understood why your ship had been attacked. it also meant you had to be careful now that you were here. and it was best to keep to yourself and stay at your mother’s old lab in the forest. yes, that was a good plan at first.

too bad it didn’t stick.

when you meet

it wasn’t really difficult to stay in your own lane. you got used to using your avatar and were often wandering around the forest to study everything. at first the only people you interacted with were the other humans on the planet, which weren’t that much to begin with but you were content. mostly you were just getting used to the planet whilst also taking in the fact that your mother had died and you hadn’t been at her side when she did.

jake was the first one to approach you. since he knew what it felt like to be an outsider, he immediately tried to welcome and make you comfortable the best way he knew how. so often when he comes back from hunts, he’d stop by your lab to see you. one time he had spotted a really pretty plant and immediately thought of you. knowing that your job was to study the botany of pandora, he brought you to the plant. your smile was so big then, a part of him felt a pull toward you. whenever you smiled at him or laughed at his dumb jokes. jake couldn’t help but want to continue making you smile.

and you of course, always looked forward to him coming around, your heart fluttering every time you made physical contact with each other. whether it be the simple brush of fingers, you finding any excuse just to caress his face and him just wanting so desperately to kiss you. it was clear then that jake wanted you as another mate but he knew the other two wouldn’t accept her as he had, so in the beginning he buried his feelings for his and your sake.

“don’t look at me like that.” jake mumbled quietly, his forehead touching yours.

you frowned softly, “like what?”

he frowned sadly, “like you love me.”

but you did. and there was no stopping that.

neytiri had been watching you ever since jake had begun stopping by your lab after his hunts. she was wary about your arrival yet curious as to why jake kept going to you. she did think at first it was because the two of you had something in common but she discovered there was much more to that. tsu’tey of course waved it off in the beginning but she wasn’t too quick to let it go. so she herself started watching you. you had yet to notice her which annoyed neytiri a bit. if you were to be living in pandora, you must always be aware of your surroundings. you on the other hand just seemed to be in a whole different world. neytiri thought you would get eaten in less than a week.

but then again, your awed curiosity about the forest did draw her toward you. apart of her wanted to make herself known to you, just to show more to the forest than what you thought you had seen. plus she was drawn to your gentle spirit. and your innocence of your smile. neytiri soon began to understand why jake kept visiting you. a strange feeling bubbled in her stomach and she thought she was jealous at first.

one day she had to make herself known. especially when you were about to touch a dangerous plant.

“do not touch that.” she warned, surprising you.

you looked up in time to find her jumping down from the tree and landing in front of you. the na’vi woman gestured toward the plant, “it is poisonous. not meant to touch.”

“oh, sorry.” you backed away from the plant. your eyes then caught something on her leg, “hey, um, you have a cut there.”

she glanced down, not too bothered by it, “it’s nothing. just a scratch.”

you shake your head, “i can clean it a bit for you. you know, just so it won’t get infected.” before neytiri had a chance to protest you had already started walking toward a small pond, gesturing for her to follow. neytiri didn’t know why but she did. the two of you then knelt down next to the bond, you cup some water from it and brushed it against neytiri’s leg. “hmm, you're right, it’s just a scratch. not a lot of blood as it turns out.”

“i already said this.” neytiri grumbled but didn’t push your hands away.

you smiled up at her, “yeah, but it doesn’t hurt to check, right?”

neytiri realized then that it wasn’t jealousy she felt toward you. but instead it was a certain gentle fondness for you. one that always made it come back every day, similar to jake, just to see you and watch you work. some days she’d ask to join jake who was surprised by the request. you were happy to have her around as much as you loved having jake. it was comforting, being in neytiri’s presence. she was fierce but around you she was a lot more shy and comfortable with you. the both of you brought a sense of comfort and calm toward one another.

from then on, neytiri understood why jake kept coming back to you.

becoming one of the people

you understood what you had been missing the entire time you had been on pandora. even before coming here. and you decided that you would want to call this place your home and to do that, you would have to become like them. the na’vi. so you could be with them.

jake and neytiri were all for it and were the ones to help you. jake was the one to teach you how to hunt and how to choose and use your weapon. neytiri taught you the language—was a lot more patient with you than she was with jake—and showed you more of the forest, teaching you how to become one with it. how to understand it the na’vi way. the more time the three of you spent with each other, the more in love you had become.

of course, one last person had to be convinced.

tsu’tey

tsu’tey saw you making progress to become one of the people. and you saw him watching you. you knew he didn’t trust you. but since he was the clan leader of the omatikaya, you were quite determined to earn his trust. even jake and neytiri wanted him to accept you.

it was when you first tamed your ikran. you had fallen off your ikran mid-flight at first and jake had been the one to fly his own ikran down to catch you. he flew you back to the cliff. 

“she’s done.” jake had said as you slid off his ikran. he said it more to neytiri than you. “that was too close!”

“she can handle it!” neytiri frowned. “the danger, the whole thing, is a part of it, ma’jake!”

“she nearly died!” jake protested.

“guys--”

“and so did you when you first tamed yours! why is now any different?!”

“you know why!”

“guys!” you shouted, drawing their attention back to you. you ran a hand through your hair and huffed, “first off, stop talking about me like i’m not standing right next to you! second, i love you both, but it’s my choice whether or not i decide to finish.”

jake tried protesting, “y/n--”

“jake.” you sighed and went to grab your ikran taming rope from off the ground. “let me do this. please.”

neytiri nodded while jake only frowned. that was when tsu’tey appeared, looking all smug, “you heard her, jakesully.” you roll your eyes as neytiri squeezed your arm encouragingly. “Let her continue to fall. it’ll only make her look more like a skxawng.”

“tsu’tey.” jake frowned but you only grinned.

“hey i know you’re tryna make fun of me right now, but it’s only encouraging me to do it again. so, thanks!” you smirked provokingly at him causing him to scowl at you. 

“enough talk, demon girl.” tsu’tey stood before you despite neytiri trying to step in between you and get him to calm down. a part of it worked because she was his mate, but tsu’tey was still studying you, tilting his head with a mocking smirk. “go on. show me.”

you took the challenge much to jake’s dismay. neytiri supported you. but for some reason, you felt extra nervous with tsu’tey watching you. but you ignored it long enough to finally tame your ikran, this time without falling off. it felt amazing, your first ride on your ikran. jake and neytiri joined you on their own ikrans.

and surprisingly tsu’tey did as well. and instead of finding another scowl on his face, he instead wore a smirk. you grinned at him, tightening your hold on your ikran, “race me?”

tsu’tey rolled his eyes, “i don’t race—”

“slow poke!” you took off. tsu’tey blinked in surprise but immediately smirked competitively before taking off after you.

that was it. it wasn’t your smile—well, maybe it was a part of it—but it was how you loosened him up and made him have fun. for that moment he wasn’t thinking about his duty as the olo’eyktan. all he could think about is beating you in your race and allowing himself to have fun. with you of all people.

neytiri gave him a knowing smirk later on. he rolled his eyes at her, “be quiet you.”

“you love her too.”

tsu’tey didn’t respond then. because he knew the two had fallen for you. and because he knew he had fallen for you too. he tried really hard not to. really he did.

becoming mates

when all three of them realized they were in love with you and wanted you as their mates to join their family, they gave you room to realize it yourself without pushing you. fortunately for them, you already loved them and were just waiting for them to tell you. basically one of you had to come out and say it or else you would be miserable idiots in love.

you had been playing with baby neteyam when mo’at dragged jake, neytiri, and tsu’tey into the marui, surprising you.

“i’ve had enough of all your moping. all four of you!” mo’at huffed. you looked away flustered while the other three stood sheepishly. mo’at rolled her eyes and turned to you, “do you want them as your mates.”

you blushed but nodded, “yes, if only—”

“good.” mo’at turned to the three who were now staring at you in shock. “and you want her as your mate as well i assume?”

tsu’tey looked to you, “do you truly accept us?”

you smiled at them, “of course i do. i wouldn’t have anyone else be my dear mates.”

mo’at grumbled, mumbling about “children” before leaving the four of you alone. jake knelt down in front of you, caressing your cheek, “how come you didn’t say anything?”

“how come you didn’t?” you raised your brows.

“we did not want to push you.” neytiri said, holding your hand to her cheek. “but we’ve accepted you long ago.”

the four of you mated before eywa. and had been together since.

your relationship

the four of you were just so in love with each other. and all of you showed it in different ways. in public, you were a lot more subtle about showing your affection for each other. neytiri and jake loved flying together. jake and tsu’tey enjoyed hunting together. and neytiri and tsu’tey explored the forest together.

with you it wasn’t any different. neytiri and you loved spending time together in silence. the two of you were so comfortable with each other that sometimes you wouldn’t even have to talk whenever you were alone with each other. sometimes you’d lie in each other’s laps, neytiri would do your hair, and you would show her new plants you collected from the day. quality time was your love language.

with jake he was a lot more physically affectionate than the other too. he was this way with the other two and it wasn’t any different with you. he’d find a way to touch you both in public and in private. in public he’d always have his hand on the small of your back or squeezing the space between your neck and shoulder. in private he’s all over you, kissing any part of your body, and holding you in his arms.

tsu’tey loved just having fun with you. whether that be flying or exploring the forest together, he was always at peace with you and relaxed. anytime he was free from olo’eyktan duties, he would always try finding ways to spend time with you. he’s always smiling around you and saying sweet nothings to you. he enjoys your kisses and your touch, the both of you enjoyed both quality time and physical affection.

you were all so in love with each other. none of you could imagine living without each other.

all of you especially enjoyed spending time with neteyam, especially when you're all together. then kiri came along. all of you were adamant on adopting her. tsu’tey especially since he cared for her mother, grace. he saw kiri as his own just the same as you, jake, and neytiri did.

both jake and tsu’tey were such girl dads with kiri. and you were so excited to grow your family and finally start your new life in pandora.

you weren’t alone anymore. you had your mates and your children. and that’s all you needed in the end.

[larissareadings]

It’s okay, love.

➤ pairing: Draco Malfoy x gryff!fem!reader (house barely mentioned).

Request: None

tw: eating disorder; mentions of bullying and anxiety attack.

Note: I’ve wrote this based on personal experiences and what I needed at the time. DO NOT read this if it’s not comfortable for you. If you or someone you know is struggling with an eating disorder, please reach out for help.

English is not my native language so I’m sorry if there is any mistakes. This is my first fic ever so it might not be so good. I hope you enjoy it though.

Summary: Y/N is a keeper at the Gryffindor (barely mentioned) team, who has been developing an eating disorder and Draco Malfoy seems to be only one who noticed it.

Y/N always had problems with her body image. At her early teens at Hogwarts she used to be mocked, mostly by Pansy Parkinson and her friends, because she was too thin. When Y/N turned 14, she started gaining weight since she was eating too much due to her increased anxiety, and then she was again being mocked, except now because she was getting fat, and everyone talked about it, even when they didn’t want to be mean, saying things like “you should get on a diet”. By 16, Y/N started focusing on her weight loss journey, she was finally gonna be health, delicate and beautiful as the other girls her age.

Some months later

It was right after the quidditch match between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. They won, of course, since you’ve let too many quaffles go through the goal hoops. You’re a keeper at the Gryffindor team, and you’re good at it. When you’re not dizzy anyway.

“It happened again, didn’t it?”

you heard the familiar voice behind you. It sounded soft, which was not a usual thing. You closed your locker and turned around to face Malfoy. The others had already left the locker room, so now it was just you and him.

"It happened what again, Malfoy?" you asked him, trying to sound indifferent, when you were all, but that. He had some power over you, it was irritating actually, how nervous you would get when he was around.

Malfoy has been acting weird these past few months, he didn't tease you anymore. When his friends said anything about you, he would either just leave or just stare at you, but never laugh with them, never contribute to their bullying. He was the only one in the group who said nothing about your recent weight loss. The others did. Pansy would never loose the chance to say you finally learnt to shut your mouth.

You hated that he hadn't said anything, you worried you hadn't lost enough weight for him to notice, and you wanted him to see that you could be pretty too.

He looked in you up and down, checking you, before focusing on your eyes again and said "Dizziness."

You didn't understand why he was saying this, why he would notice you feeling dizzy. "Yeah.. just a little. I'm bit distract that's all". A few seconds went by where he said nothing, just stood there looking at you. Was that concern in his eyes? You couldn't tell. "Look, uhmm, I don't know where this is coming from, but I have to go. If you have any jokes to make about me being a bad keeper, or an ugly, fat bad keeper or whatever" you noticed him flinch at that, as if it had hurt him. "say it now or leave it for tomorrow 'cause I'm really tired and just wanna go to my bed"

He walked towards you, enough for him to talk low and look closely into your eyes, making you even more nervous, and said "You have to stop this, Y/N, it's making you sick."

"I don't know what you talking about"

Now he let out a breath in disbelief. "Oh, you don't know what I'm talking about? Let my clarify to you, then, It's a very simple concept, really, I thought you would know it by now." He was actually getting angry. "In order to live, people have to eat. It's the only way to get nutrients into your body. Really, Y/N, that's basics"

"I know about that. It's a good thing I eat, then, right?'' You said also angry now with his sudden aggressiveness.

"Do you though? 'Cause what I'm seeing-" he said gesturing to your body "is a girl fading away, a girl who plays with food at lunch instead of actually eating it, a girl who who used to be a great keeper, but now can't barely stand in a broom because is too weak to do so." He could feel his heart in his throat. He was so nervous, so scared you would fall off that broom. More than he could ever admit. He was keeping his worry to himself for months, hoping you would stop, hoping someone would intervene, but no one did. People just kept either praising your weight loss or humiliating you. But he couldn't stop himself anymore, if you had got hurt today, he would never forgive himself.

You felt your heart skip a beat at that. He was worried. Really worried. You didn't know how to react. You felt seen, someone saw what you were going through. But you also felt good, reassured. So you WERE thinner, and he noticed. “You know what? I don’t get it. Weren’t you and your friends the ones who said I was too heavy to play quidditch? that my weight would slow me down? that I would fall? that the broomstick couldn’t take it?” you now had tears in your cheeks. Your vision was blured by the tears and, God, you were so tired.

Malfoly’s heart might’ve actually broke in that moment. He was so angry at everyone who didn’t notice you hurting yourself, when he was actually the who drove you into it.

‘‘I am so tired.” you kept talking now, tears rolling down your face. “Why is it never enough? I’m tired. I’m thin, I’m ugly. I’m fat, I’m ugly too, and disggusting. I need a diet. I do a diet. and now fading away? OH well, just let me be happy for once.and I am happy now, ok? I’m finally beautiful.” You were talking so fast and you were feeling so weak. Malfoy saw that, so he immediately hold you in a hug, preventing you from falling. Your head were now in his chest, and you were trying to stop crying, trying to make your heart go back to it’s normal rhythm.

“It’s okay. It’s okay, love.” He said stroking your hair. “I’m sorry” he said almost inaudible.

After a few minutes you heart and breathing were finally stable again. You detached yourself from his harms, although his hands were still in both sides of your arms. You looked up to him with watery eyes. You hated crying in front of people. "I'm sorry" you said.

"It's okay." He said again, looking back at you. Taking his hesitant hand, like he was afraid to actually break you, to clean your cheeks from the tears. "I promise".

"Why are you doing this?" you were really confused. You had never seen Malfoy this gentle and.. scared?

He caressed you cheeks while looking from your eyes to your mouth. He then joined your foreheads and spoke really low, like a whisper. “I need you, Y/N.”

“what?” you said also in a whisper. you couldn't believe what you were hearing.

“I need you, and I need you to get better. This is making me crazy. I’m scared all the time. I’m scared you’re gonna fall off the stairs, or the broom. I’m scared of you getting hurt. Please.. just- just let me help, ok? Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it. Anything.”

“Can you.. uhmm. eat? with me, I mean” you asked detaching your heads to look in his eyes.

“Sure” He said immediately. “Is that all?”

“No.” you let out a breath in relief with his answer and smile a little. “But it may be a start. I think”

“Ok.” He returned your smile. “You should probably talk with someone else, though. Someone who could help more. A professor, maybe. I’ll go with you, if you want me to.”

“Yeah.. ok. Can we go to McGonagall, then? Not now, please. When I’m ready.”

“Of course. Anyone you want, love.” He said looking back at you before you hugging him again. Letting your head rest in his chest while he stroke your hair again. This felt like home to both of you. You were so scared, but he was hopeful. He would do anything for you to feel better.

This whole not eating thing made you so tired, but it was also so addictive. You didn’t know if you could ever get better, but maybe this was a start. Having someone to lean on, someone who cared.. it certainly helped.

[the-entitie]

COD men x K-9 Unit male reader

Part 1 | Part 2》》

A/n: I can speak three languages, only one of which borrow German words, so forgive me for shitty translations. I'm from the RSA, so you know. Not any of the boys hometown.

Reader works with a K-9 unit and his partner is called Mutt who is a mix breed of Alaskan Akita and Doberman(Mutt is also a service dog as reader has paranoia and C-PTSD). Readers call sign is Riot. The 141 boys needed help tracing a terrorist and John called in some favors to bring Riot and Mutt into the field. He helped the Los Vaqueros as well.

After the mission back at base, the reader interacts with the men, and they end up interacting with him.

Reader is referred to as you or Riot.

Mentions of panic attacks, anxiety attacks, C-PTSD, war, and / or war related violence. Unhealthy coping mechanisms, past trauma. Death of a family member. Torture, scars, and flashbacks.

Left: American Akita and Right: Long-haired Doberman

John Price: (740 words)

-He met you first, saw you first. Hell, he verified your file so he knew of your old teammates that turned because of the torture, and he knew of the many years you spent MIA. He also knows what you did to get out. So he keeps you close and keeps an eye on you. He's the one who needs to clear you for this recon mission. It will be his fault if another team mate goes rogue. -It only take him a few minutes to see how much you actually relay on Mutt, it takes him days to see its not reliance, no the two of you act in a cemented trust between you two. From the interactions at home base to the way you both move like a well oiled machine on the field, it doesn't take a genius to see that Mutt is a deadly force with training that makes the hound that much more dangerous. Price comes face to face with that realization when he sees just how far Mutt can throw a soldier four times their size. And Mutt came up to his thighs, mind you. -Time and space are all Price really needed to trust you completely. He knew how you acted with Mutt, and therefore, he knew how you would act around a team you trust. It doesn't take him long to see its not only Mutt who reacts to you. You react just as much based on your K-9. Price nearly shoots you when you call out to Mutt because you didn't whistle for the hound. You howled, and he could hardly tell it apart from the wild dogs he's heard out in the desert. He didn't even understand what the fuck you where doing until he heard something answer you, in the same rumbling call. It took a lot more time to get used to those kinds of noises from you. He could expect them from Mutt but not when it's you who makes them -Both of you were exhausted, been about three long days on your feet with little sleep, that's when he asks you how you make the sounds Mutt does. Hell he even starts trying to learn them just to know how you and you K-9 partner work better. "So I just cup my hands and what now Riot? I Grunt?" "No," you laugh at him, he doesn't feel patronized by it, "you hold your hands around your mouth and just bark, makes it echo like a dog." He sounded more like a mountain lion then canine when he actually gave it a try. You teach him how to pitch it up a bit, and how to drag the call out properly. "And you don't use your hand because?" "Because I'm used to it, and can make the 'echo' without my hands. I still do when I howl. Look." A few nights pass before he uses it to scare a tango shitless out side of the enemy base. He doesn't admit it but he likes 'talking' to the local wild dogs with you. He even enjoys hearing you and Mutt go off at each other because it means your both alive and still here. -Out side of the field and when you two go out to roam the town at the dead of night, he comes to see that the canine noises you and Mutt share gives you peace. The kind he used to find in cigars and smoke. He gets it, he knows that some people just have a vice. When you find him smoking alone behind his own home, he shrugs it off and blames it on the smoke detectors. He doesn't say that he stops to make your K-9 more comfortable in his home. He doesn't stop smoking but he tries to avoid it for your sake. You only corner him around a day or so to thank him. He won't admit to the red flaring up on his ears, but he tells you to drop it. -If he's ever the one who finds you when your having an attack, he will guard you. Get you safe and comfortable then he will become a gruff mother bear and be completely over protective of you. He only calms down when he sees that Mutt already does that, and he learns what can help you, what to look out for. He won't admit it though.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley: (734 words)

-Ghost didn't like you at first. or well he doesn't like anyone actually but he didn't like you. -You had a dog breed that was originally made for bear bating and he hated that he knew that. Even if you didn't get the hound because of that. Well, that and Mutt is constantly muzzled. It took you explaining it was required by law for him to try and ignore it. -But when he watches how fluidly you and Mutt work together, even seeing the raw fucking power that dog has when Mutt tackled an enemy to the ground, he starts to understand why you have to keep Mutt muzzled. Even if he didn't like it. -Simon has an ex-military dog at home so he knows how to act around an active working dog. He's the best to be around if you don't want people petting or trying to do anything really with your K-9 partner. -when at the base afterwards he sees that the dog isn't just a working dog but acts like you service dog. Everything from crowd control to doing small tasks for you on the daily. To siting between your legs when you have your back to anyone when doing a task to protect you. Mutt will even start doing this quiet sort of 'rueff' sound that will make you get out of where ever you are without any fanfare, you will just disappear. -He only finds out why a lot later. He feel kind of stupid for missing it after the fact. -Its the scars that cross your back and over your shoulders, the hitches of thick skin around your jaw. You are a torture survivor. So suddenly he gets it. Mutt is your safety, the dog wears a muzzle because your K-9 partner is also a person protection dog. -After he realized the why you stick to your partner so closely, he would begin to help Mutt protect you. He would stand ahead of you when Mutt would lay down to create space (crowd control). Ghost would watch your back and react with your partner to help you. -He takes his mask off when you two are either alone or when your are forced to show your scares he shows some of his to help you feel more comfortable. -you start to notice it, and at first you would try to stop him but eventually you just start protecting him back. You become more comfortable around him. Simon notices it to. -One day after a few days straight of being on your feet, both you and Simon end up passed out in his private quarters. Ghost wakes first to see Mutt cuddle against you and draped across him, when ever he tried to move the dog, they would just growl and to his utter amusement you growled back. -After that he gets you to 'talk' to Mutt any time he can, even on missions. - Ghost was the one who told you and Mutt to bark at each other to distract the enemy when on a recon mission. "Copy Riot, we need an in" "Need an in, copy. Any ideas for that L.t?" "Yeah, Riot go off and make some noise with Mutt" "Seriously?" "Yip, get going we need that data" You two got in, and yes you did start howling back and forth with Mutt in the echo trick wolves use. The enemy thought they were surrounded by cayotes. -When you eventually cuddle up with Ghost again, and Mutt yips or growls at you and you make the noise back, Simon will growl at you. It becomes a games between you to, even doing it as call outs outside of coms. Soap complains about wild dogs once and now Simon will get Mutt vocal just to fuck with Soap. -he starts calling you dog related nicknames, your name doesn't exist anymore. Call sign? only when necessary. You are now called with doggie names. He'll call out a, "Heh, Good boy" "Come on puppy you can speak" when you go dark on coms, or just when you don't answer him. Yes he will also say things like, "What ever you say Fido" -He makes you swear to never tell a soul that he also barks back at Mutt when you two are off duty. You caught him coping a growl when playing with Mutt once. -He gets Mutt and his las to meet. Now he also makes dog sounds with you on his down time, even without you much to his old girls delight.

John “Soap” Mactavish: (616 words)

-He loves your K-9 partner from the first time Price introduces you to the team, sure he tries to be professional but the second you let Mutt go off to play out of gear he just wants to give the hound so many pets. They are just so big and have that cute angry tilt to their face! Can you blame him. -when out on the field, he loves running with two of you on missions. The adrenaline and rush and just how much faster you two are than him. He loves it. -You end up doing it with him outside of missions after a while. Hiking out in mountains and secluded valleys, it's the first time he hears you howl with Mutt. The coyotes had started, yipping over whatever they killed lower down the ridge. Mutt, who was a few paces head, had paused to howl, without thinking you howl with them. Scares Soap but he just finds it fun. -Soap being so in love with Mutt leads to just being around you a lot. He starts learning what certain movements mean to you and your dog, how a sharp left with your hand was a call to draw back or how the shift of your stance meant to take the lead. It amazed him how well you read each other. -Then he sees how you act outside of the field, how Mutt still acted like a protector, and you kept mimicking the sounds Mutt made. Especially when you were more tired. He found it cute. Hell, he loved playing with Mutt, so when you made the hound more excited, he also got just as if not more excited. -Soap loves head scratches you find out when you two are off duty and hanging out. He's on the floor with Mutt and the hound he's cuddling wines before you reach down to comfort the dog with head scritches. You miss and pet Soap instead, beside being completely flustered, he asked you to do it again.  He just starts asking you to do it more and more before you start petting him the same way you pet over your hound. -Now you start with the dog related nicknames, even over coms. Much to Soaps embarrassment and the teams delight. He nearly buckles the first time you call him a good boy, and he does when you call him a good dog. Blames it on a miss step. -He loves, loves, loves listening to you, and Mutt yap back and forth, loves even more when you go to rough houses with growls and even try pining you down one. He fails, but he doesn't care. -Soap only catches one of your attacks when it's about sun down. You're both at his place standing in the kitchen when your shoulders suddenly hitch, but you continued on as normal. Until Mutt wandered over to you, they stopped dead before making a gruff noise and jumping up onto you. Instead of getting you secluded because, of course, the hound sees Soaps house as a safe space. And Mutt will get you down, force you to sit and lower your head. "Woh, n'er knew em ta jump? Wait shit. ROIT!" He'll be right there next to you, knows what to do because of Ghosts episodes on recons. "What's it, lad? What can I do ta help 'im?" -You don't really talk about it. Sure, you explain what it was and why Mutt did that, but not the why it happened. It takes a while to admit that the scares you hide are the reason for that attack. He gets it he does, and now? Mother fucker will do dumb shit to distract you, or just talk and talk and talk. It helps, he knows it helps.

König: (764 words)

-Being a sniper, he likes the added security, the extra eyes to help watch his back. Sure, he doesn't trust you per say but he tries to be friendly none the less. -He had no idea what Mutt was trained for until he saw the both of you take down someone who made it to his vantage point. He saw how you moved like Mutt was an extension of yourself, that's how you earn his respect. -König didn't know why you had so many commands for Mutt, but most of them were cues or just situational. Most of all, the verbal commands you use are in Russian and Dutch so he can understand some of the tasks you ask Mutt to do . It kind of scares him that Mutt would know which trail was a friend and which person wasn't. He stands by that fear when he watches you set them off on a run away target. -He will only admit to himself that both you and Mutt look way to good covered in the gore from that attack. -You had to explain that that kind of training meant your partner had to be muzzled. You both get to talking that night, swapping stories of close calls, and König shyly showed you the star splattered scar on his jaw. Lifting his hood up just enough to see it before hurriedly drooping it back down. You share a few of the worse days you had as a call in search and riot guard and snippets of the scars covering your throat. -Habits begin forming. König will be a silent wall between you and crowds while Mutt would start alerting to his anxiety attacks as well. You made a joke about borrowing Mutt to him on the days off. He didn't understand the first time Mutt barked at him in a weird gruff tone before jumping up and doing it again. It's when you get him secluded and safe that you explain it to him. "Its called signaling. They can tell you when these things are going to happen or are actively happening. " "So it's to let me know?" "Yeah, for me, it's when I'm going to either for a flash back or when my paranoia forces me into a panic attack." "Flash back?" "Yes, remember that sister I told you about." -It took days for you to actually relay that story to him. How your team abandoned you, how the enemy held your sisters head above your bloody form. You explained how that caused phantom pains or flashbacks and how crippling that can be some days. -He becomes your solace after that. He would be there when you needed it. Keep people away when you couldn't look at anyone. He even began listening to Mutts alerts. He even lets you help him through the easier ones. -König called you one night when you both were off for the next few days. You could tell by the shake on his breath what was happening before he could tell you. That was when you showed him how Mutt does decompression therapy, the hound big enough to help ground him. You stayed that night, even teaching König some of the commands you use to tell Mutt how to help you. He's quick to learn them as some phrases are Dutch that you use so he can catch the meaning of some commands. -You don't call him until a long while later. It's on a mission while you two are hunkered down after a botched extraction. Or well, Mutt calls him. "Riot? Are you, Oh Scheiße! 「Shit」" "wat 「what」, ag. What can I do? Dir helfen 「Help you」, how can I help. Please let me help you. " -He ended up holding how so you couldn't hurt yourself in these attacks. It didn't feel as entrapped as you thought it would. König is so much bigger than you, but it's like he makes a physical barrier between you and the world. He helps your partner make you feel safe. It's hard to explain to anyone why your panic attacks act like that, why your mind needs pain to calm from feeling like you're dying. König will explain how his attacks can feel suffocating, and that's why his jaw and throat are so bruised most days. -Between one mission and the next, you start showing off things you and Mutt can do to him, like Mutt retrieving throne knives or how the hound can trace any sent it knows for miles. -You only bark back at Mutt one night when trapped in a safe house. Neither of you could find each other, and mutt had run off

Alejandro Vargas: (720 words)

-Learning of the terrorist stationed so close to los vaqueros' home base, Alejandro was quick to reach out. The 141 had helped him before, so he was surprised to learn of the newer recruit they called in to help them. Alejandro told Price to just bring you along. They needed the extra help honestly, as much as he refused to trust any of 141 purely on principle. They needed the help. -He met you with Ruddy on the roof of the office building, and he asked the polit to land on. When you dropped from the helicopter with the others. Mutt held to your chest before being deposited on the ground. He's seen how some of the other search and rescue units who have K-9's, but he's never seen anyone who works with their hound like you do. Alejandro is both grateful and terrified to have you fighting with him.  -Seeing you and Mutt outside the field was even more intriguing. How the two of you reacted perfectly to each other, he saw a bit of himself and Rudy in the way you two work like a well-oiled machine. He tried to play nice, be kind and calm, but when shit hit the fan? He drops it. Its only been a week before you use the recall command on Mutt to level the man they needed to interrogate. Both of you were forced to hunker down in a safe house, Alejandro making the bound man walk with little success. He asked for your help not long after the son had dipped down.  "Think he will talk?" "Not willingly if that file you circulated was true." "Any ideas?" "You aren't scared of loud noises, are you?" "Not really, why?" -When you said you could help, this isn't what he was expecting, but it was working. You had taken to standing behind the tied down guy, and whenever Alejandro could sound even remotely frustrated,  you would call out to Mutt before the dog would lunge with a snarl or harsh bark. Scared the man shitless, and he would mumble about 'de-ablo' or 'deamons' on and off. When things got too harsh, or either of you were cornered, he watched in equal parts horror and delight as you let Mutt cull those surrounding you all. Watch as you both kill together just as well as you work together. -It eventually became a joke, the whole you being a dog or sounding like one. Even when the two of you left the safe house. Hell, he started talking to you like he would your dog. Started to tease you with the same command you used on your hound. "Come on, Roit, I know you can beg better than that." "Here, cachorro cachorro cachorro [puppy puppy puppy]!" "Such a good boy, you want a treat?" "There we go, Good perro. Now sit for me." Even saying he kept treats for when you were especially well behaved. If you didn't also start laughing along he wouldn't have kept doing it and actually started keeping 'treats' on hand for you on the late nights you two would just talk on and on about nothing and everything. -Being back at the base and left to your devices, he started asking about everything Mutt could do. He would ask if you could also do the tricks and inquire about the ones you could. "Wait cariño, you can howl?" "Yeah. Wanna hear me?" "Oh more than anything." "hhhm, maybe I'll do it later." "I'm happy to beg you, but I think you would sound better begging me, cariño." "I don't beg Alejandro." "You will. And you'll sound so good doing it." "Try me," -He loved hearing you talk to Mutt. Just waiting up at night to listen to the back and forth of barking and yips that echo across the open land. Whether from far away or not, he loved it. -Alejandro is the worst when either of you get hurt. He is the worst flirt, and he lays the dog related teasing on twice as thick. Not only is Rudy swearing him out in broken Spanish, but you don't help either. Doing anything to help him stay conscious or playing along to distract yourself from the pain. Even Mutt begins to see him as safe.

More COD Boys x K-9 unit reader 》》》》

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

HIT ‘EM UP! (18+ Fic)

Pairing: Cowboy!Gojo Satoru x Cowboy!Geto Suguru x Black!Cowgirl!Reader (Slow Burn/Enemies to Lovers)

Synopsis: You get to meet Geto & Gojo the Gunslingers, the notorious outlaws that have every town and law enforcement in a twist, when your bum-ass BF offers you as payment to avoid going to prison. Little do they know that this is only a part of your plan to get what you desire. But when you realize that the infamous gun-slinging, smooth-talking cowboys could be everything you want and more when they offer you a deal to team up with them, will you successfully be able to go through with it? 

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINOS GTFO); poly!SatouSugu; Reader is Black & Fem; Mention of other JJK characters; Porn with Plot; Tragic Backstories; T/W for Childhood Trauma, Parental Death, Violence, Panic Attacks & Torture; Angst/Hurt/Comfort; Hand Kink; Masturbation; Voyeurism; Gay Sex; Polyamorous; Double Deepthroat; Mutual Oral; Fingering; CMNF; Spitroast; Riding; Unprotected PiV Sex; Creampies; Outside/Public Sex; Shotgunning; Multiple Positions; Spit Kink; Facials; MDom/fsub Undertones; Aftercare

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer's Note: SMUT BELOW. GO TOUCH GRASS AFTER YOU READ THIS. LOVE UUUU!! -Jazz

Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen PT I & II. Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-One. Twenty-Two. Twenty-Three. Twenty-Four. Epilogue + Soundtrack.

********

EIGHTEEN: POUR SOME SUGAR ON ME PT. 2.

When you leave Gojo and Geto stunned in your wake as you leave the pool table, you start to rethink your decisions and “big talk”.

Gone is the bubbly, bold feeling you felt that the whiskey and tequila helped you reach. You felt like you could fly with the liquor in you. But now in replacement of that false confidence is a feeling close to dread and anxiety that sobers you immediately. The throng of sweaty bodies and boots you try to walk between makes it even worse.

There are too many people. Too much noise. You’re becoming overstimulated. But…you look back at the place you left Geto and Gojo standing by the pool table, but a person on the dance floor is standing in your line of view. However, you know that they are there, watching. Waiting for you to act on your big talk.

So you turn around and look for the first hot guy you see. You find him standing with his boys by the stage, laughing into his beer. He is big and husky with a thick beard, tattoos, and pretty eyes. Handsome enough. You stand a foot away from him, mustering up the courage to catch his attention.

“Hey,” you say, your voice soft and wobbly. Your voice is carried away by the upbeat guitars playing.

You say it again, louder: “Hey!” He finally turns to look at you and his eyes do a one scan over your body. Lust and interest immediately appears within them. You aren’t sure if you like or dislike it.

“Wanna dance?” You ask, still riding on some of the liquid confidence. Wordlessly, the man nods and offers one hand while holding his beer in the other.

You take it and drag him away from his friends who watch on in shock and envy. You find a place in the middle of floor surrounded by other people twirling, moving, and stomping their boots. Not even thinking about it, you place your hands on the man’s shoulders and begin to move to the beat, barely moving your hips but just swaying. You can’t bring yourself to do much else. But your dance partner seems to enjoy it either way.

A big, happy grin stretches across his face as one hand finds your waist. “God, you are fine,” he laughs. “Where the fuck you come from, honey? Heaven?”

You can smell the beer on his breath and instantly recoil. Suddenly, you don’t want to dance with him anymore. His big, beefy arm snakes around your waist and holds you close to him, pulling you flush against his body. “Whoa,” you say, your pulse picking up as your fight or flight kicks in. “What are you—“

“You here with somebody?” he whispers. “What are you doin’ after this tonight?” His hand travels down to your ass, squeezing it in your jeans. You think of a way to tell him to fuck off without causing a scene, but the sight of familiar blue eyes behind some shades and silvery white hair under a cowboy hat behind him stop you short.

The man senses someone standing behind him and turns, finding Gojo there with a smile on his face. “Not goin’ home with you,” he answers for you. “Sorry, pal, but she’s with me.”

You feel another warm presence behind you and turn to face the big chest of Geto Suguru. His brown eyes stare unwaveringly into the ones of the man with his hand still gripping your butt. “Us, actually,” he adds and he doesn’t sound like he wants that statement to be challenged.

But the man doesn’t read the room, probably too drunk to do so or realize who the fuck he’s messing with. “Yeah, whatever,” he scoffs and grips you to him, a sloppy smirk on his face. “Anyways–”

Gojo is suddenly beside Geto and forcefully turns the man around by his shoulder. “Didn’t you hear us?” he says, his smile not so nice anymore. It is sharp and tense, daring his opponent to make a move. “We said she’s with us. Now, I suggest you take this loss like a man instead of reachin’ for that piece in your pocket.”

Your eyes flick down to the man’s hand, finding the one that was on your behind now at his holster. Gojo peers at the man over his shades. “Trust me: you don’t want this smoke. Not with us.” He takes off his hat as does Geto, giving the man a view of their recognizable faces.

The man’s angered expression fades, replaced with astonishment and fear. “Shit,” he exhales. “Y-You’re…you’re G–”

“Geto & Gojo, the Gunslingers, in the flesh,” Gojo interrupts, his grin only widening. “I told you: you don’t want this. Just put that tail between your legs and leave so we won’t have no problems.” The man looks like he wants to protest or start shooting, but you can see the way he’s shivering. “Leave,” Geto demands, his voice deep and harsh. “Now.”

Quickly, the man scrambles off and disappears in the crowd. You almost feel bad for him, but he shouldn’t have gotten handsy. “Thanks,” you weakly say, barely looking at the duo. Ghetto shrugs like it isn’t a big deal. “Don’t mention it. Looked like you could’ve used some help with him…not that you couldn’t handle him yourself.”

“Yeah,” you dumbly reply, suddenly wanting to lay down. “U-Um…thanks again.” You begin to walk off on wobbly knees, not sure where you’re going in a sea of dancing people, but Gojo’s hand on your wrist stops you. “Where you goin’?” he asks, looking confused. “I thought we had a dance.”

You blink at him, puzzled. “What?” you ask. “B-But I thought you two didn’t—“

“That was before we realized how horny these guys are in here,” Gojo chuckles. “Can’t let you get scooped up by another horn dog, especially before you get your reward.”

He circles around your back while you face Geto and his goddamn, big ass chest that you can see yourself biting, licking, and snuggling against late at night. Maybe you are drunk. “He's right. You won fair and square, so how can we deny you your prize?” A smirk plays on his lips as he puffs on a new cigarette, the smoke curling out of his nostrils.

Suddenly, you can’t think straight. Your head feels fuzzy and heavy, especially when Gojo leans in towards your ear. You feel yourself sweat with him so close to you. “You ain’t goin’ nowhere till we get that dance, darlin’,” he whispers. And it sounds like a promise. He then leans away and smiles, kind and playful. “C’mon,” he coos, reaching his hand out for you.

The band’s music is lively still, a guitar’s strings mingling with an upbeat piano and fiddle. Without thinking, you take Gojo’s hand and he turns you to face him. “There we go!” he laughs. “Wasn’t so hard, was it?” He begins to move his feet to the music, albeit a little messily because of the booze. You giggle, following his movements while Geto stands behind you. He isn’t close enough to box you between him and Gojo, but you can still feel the heat radiating off of his body. “Try not to trip, Satoru,” he teases. “You know you’ve got two left feet.”

Gojo scowls at his partner as he turns you around to face the front where the stage is. “Says you, bitch!” he retorts and does his best to follow the moves of the dance floor that has now turned into a line dance section.

You turn to Geto on your left and watch him follow the movements, hands clapping and body moving in time with everyone else. “I didn’t know you could dance, Suguru!” you giggle among the music.

His eyes, gleaming with mirth, stare into yours under his hat. “There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, little lady,” he replies, his voice finding your ears. The petname strokes something inside of you that you can’t identify or understand right now. But you’re having too much fun to care.

When Geto takes your hand and pulls you to him like the dance calls for, the fun only increases. He twirls and spins you to and fro, making you laugh harder than you ever have before. You feel dizzy and giddy, your face clammy with sweat and drunk off of your enjoyment.

Suddenly, Gojo pops up on your left and pouts at Geto. “Hey, stop stealin’ her away,” he complains. “I wanna dance with her too!” He is suddenly standing behind you, his hands in both of yours. Your tongue feels too heavy to protest. Plus…you like it. Geto rolls his eyes as he puffs on his cigarette. “You big baby. Good thing the song is slowin’ down.”

And it is. The upbeat tempo has taken more of a softer tone as the guitar strums along to a man singing above his woman wearing some nice Levi jeans. The woman stands beside him, crooning into the mic with him. You begin to unconsciously sway to the beat, feeling relaxed. Geto smiles at you. “I take it you like this song?” he asks, humor in his eyes.

You nod though you don’t know it. He takes a step forward while Geto stays posted behind you. While both are at a respectful distance, you still feel boxed in between them like they are two sexy cells walls and you’re a prisoner. “Wait, wait,” you protest though they haven’t done much of anything yet. “I-I don’t know how to…slow dance.”

The laughs that leave their lips are soft and sexy, making heat pool in your stomach. “That ain’t no problem,” Gojo says. “Just sway with us.” He gently places his hands on your hips and moves you side to side. Geto does the same, swaying, and you do your best to follow him and Gojo. You slowly shuffle your feet, matching their tempo. Soon, you’re all like matching ships swaying side to side on the ocean.

“Juuust like that, little miss,” Gojo coaxes. “See? You’re a natural!” You inwardly smile at the praise and encouragement despite how stiff you feel. You can feel Gojo’s chest against the back of your head with how tall he is. Geto ain’t that much better. You have to crane your neck to look up at him as his big hands encircle your waist.

He presses closer to you, engulfing you in his scent. “Are my hands okay here?” he softly asks, his voice in your ear. You jerkingly nod, your body suddenly not able to function properly. You want to put your hands on him or Gojo, but your arms feel like noodles.

You don’t look up at Geto, too afraid that if you do, you’ll melt, spontaneously combust, or turn to stone. “Y��know, that was some trick ya did earlier with my cigarette,” he whispers. “You ever shotgun before?”

You feel yourself shudder at the gruffness in his tone. “No,” you reply, your voice small and soft. Gojo leans in close, having listened to the whole conversation. “Want him to show you?” he whispers, his voice like silk against your ear. “You just part those lips and he’ll blow smoke in. We do it all the time.”

Maybe it’s the alcohol or the intoxicating heat you feel between you, but you agree and nod your head. Geto wastes no time hollowing his cheeks to inhale the smoke before leaning in towards your mouth. He only leaves a few inches of space between your lips as he blows a steady stream into your mouth.

Your eyes instinctively close as the smoke stings them while your lips form a small O. A small hum leaves your lips as the smoke invades your senses. “Nice, right?” Gojo chuckles, his hands still on your hips. “I’m feelin’ kinda jealous though.” Geto passes the cig to him and you turn your head to face him now. “You want another one?” he purrs. “Ask nicely.”

You know you’re walking through some forbidden territory here. You know that you’re teetering on a tightrope. But the forbidden fruit has been bitten and you can’t deny how good it tastes. “P-Please,” you weakly say.

Gojo’s smile fades as he inhales the smoke and bends his knees slightly to meet you. He leans in and blows the smoke into your waiting mouth, his pink lips just inches from yours. From behind you, Geto stands so rigidly behind you that you almost think he’s frozen, but his hand on your forearms steady you as you stare up into Gojo’s handsome face. You want to see his eyes.

Unthinkingly, you slowly slide his sunglasses off of his face, revealing his ocean-blue eyes to you. “Y/N,” he exhales, his name sounding so forbidden coming from his lips. Those sapphire eyes flicker down to your mouth, causing his Adam’s Apple to bob. You don’t know who leaned in first, but suddenly, you’re kissing.

This kiss is passionate and soft like your first one in the hot springs, but also eager and yearning. His lips move against yours like a dance, pushing and pulling, letting you lead and then taking the lead for himself. He softly moans against your mouth, his hands sliding over your hips but never going any further than that. You almost wish he would.

When you pull away, Gojo stares at you as if you’re from another planet, his cheeks flushed and lips slightly plump from the stimulation. His eyes flick upward somewhat to Geto and it’s enough to make you realize that he’s still there. You turn and lock your arm back around his head, pulling him between the nook of your neck and shoulder. “You too,” you whisper and press your lips to his.

Geto doesn’t stop you or push you away. In fact, he welcomes the kiss, his lips moving just as easily against yours like water. You can taste the ashy nicotine and whiskey on his tongue. You never knew both could be aphrodisiacs to you, but they are now. You can’t get enough of his taste, your tongue sliding against his. His hands roam your stomach while Gojo’s lips caress your neck, soft sighs and moans traveling between you. It is magic. This is magic.

Suddenly, Geto abruptly pulls away, panting heavily. He shares another look with Gojo before his jaw tightens and he stubs his cigarette out between his fingers. “C’mon,” he says and takes your hand. He begins to lead you away from the dance floor with Gojo following close behind, his hand protectively on your back.

Your feet move on their own, the world slightly off kilter from the kiss. “Where are we goin’?” you ask above the music. Geto barely turns to you. “Somewhere that’s not here,” he replies, his voice sounding gruff and thick, like it’s taking everything in him to not jump you right here.

You flush, realizing that you all just made out on the dance floor in front of everyone…and you liked it. What the hell is going to happen once they get you alone? You can only find out what.

So you let the duo lead you out of the back exit of the barn into the backwoods where the drinkers drink, the smokers smoke, and the couples dry hump and make love in the woods. “Not here,” Gojo says. “Down the road. Let’s keep goin’.”

Geto guides you down the dirt road away from the barn. You follow him, barely noticing when the sounds of the party fade away and all that fills the air are the sound of crickets and a lone hooting owl. You suddenly find yourself at a lake, the body of water still and dark.

You come to a lake house down the road that Geto easily kicks open. The door’s hinges loosen and he opens it to reveal a relatively clean, wooden living room with a sofa, an old table, and farming tools stern about the floor. You have no idea whose lake house this is, but you find that you don’t care.

“Inside,” Gojo whispers, gripping your hand as he guides you into the dark lake house. The room smells dainty of lake water and dust. The only light is of the moon cutting into two small windows overlooking the lake. The silvery light illuminates the men before you, highlighting the lust in their eyes. Despite that, neither one of them make a move.

“You okay?” Geto asks, concern evident in his silky voice.

Despite the twirl of anxiety in your stomach, you nod. They stand at arm’s length, giving you the space to leave if you want. But you don’t.

“Tell us you want this,” Gojo whispers, his voice hoarse and wanton. Your body yearns to be touched and grabbed. You want to be held in their arms. So you give in to temptation and alcohol. “Yes,” you softly reply. “I want this.”

Immediately, the two close in on you in the darkness and give you exactly what you want. Gojo stands in front of you and cups your face in his hands to kiss you while Geto stands behind you, his fingers and lips all over your skin.

Your kiss with Gojo is hungry and eager, both of you pulling off each other’s hats to tangle your fingers in each other’s hair. He pulls away, softly laughing at you. “You’re so respondent, darlin’,” he chuckles. “Mmm, you really must want this.”

He ain’t fronting though. He wants this just as much as you do. You can tell from the way his fingers glide down your ass and his lips move back to connect with yours in a hasty, panty kiss.

“Stop hoggin’ her, Satoru,” Geto impatiently growls from behind you. “You need to be nice and share.” Gojo smirks at his partner. “But she seems like she enjoys my fingers,” he replies. “And my mouth.”

His tongue glides against your suddenly, making you taste the whiskey off of his tastebuds. He presses his big body into yours, your thighs clamping around one of his legs wedged between them. There, you feel his bulge pressing into your pelvis. You gasp at the feeling, especially when it’s multiplied by two. You feel Geto’s hard-on press into your backside as his big hands glide up to grope your tits.

Gojo pulls away to watch his partner’s sneaky fingers play with the buttons on your flannel. “You mind if we share, baby?” he whispers. “Geto is a tit man too, if you remember.” You do. You remember that starry night when you were bitten, feeling Geto’s big, calloused hands and tongue caressing your hard nipples.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to feel it again from both of them. “Go ahead,” you whisper. “Taste me.” You push your chest into Geto’s hands, shivering at the soft groan that escapes him. Slowly, as if to give you time to stop him, he buttons your top until your balconette bra is revealed to them.

You take it upon yourself to reach behind you to unhook it, fumbling somewhat because of the alcohol fog. Geto helps you, freeing your breasts from the cups. The men stare at your tits for a moment, hypnotized by the brown areolas and how heavy your hanging fruit seems. Wordlessly, Gojo takes your hand and leads you to the ratty couch, your bra ending up somewhere on the floor.

Geto joins him on the couch and the two sit together while you stand before them, your breasts in their faces. Together, they reach for you and latch their mouths around each of your brown mountain peaks of arousal while their hands explore your body. You tilt your head back, melting from their hot breath and wet tongues caressing your nipples.

“Fuck, they’re beautiful,” Geto murmurs. “You’re absolutely perfect, Y/N, shit.” He sounds as if he can hardly believe it.

It doesn’t take long for your arousal to reach its peak. You feel hot and tingly all over. Your heart races. Your mind is fogged. And mostly noticeably and annoyingly, your pussy is clenching and soaking your panties. The soft moans and lewd tongue flicks filling the air just about finish you off. You want more of them.

Gently, you pull yourself away from the Gunslingers and smile at their bewildered expressions. You kneel down before them, relishing the way they follow your every move until you’re on your knees for them. A slow smirk slithers across Gojo’s face. “Ya want somethin’ else, darlin’?” he asks in the darkness. “Give me your words.”

Your greedy eyes tick down to their hardened dicks beneath their slacks, pushing against the fabric. “I want you both in my mouth,” you boldly answer. The duo is silent for a moment, shook by your response.

“Both?” they ask, shocked by your request. Gojo shrugs, looking down for it. “Well, if it’s what you want…” He unbuckles his pants first and then Geto follows suit, both of them loosening their belts and unbuttoning their flies.

You bite your lip in anticipation for what’s to come. When their cocks finally spring from their underwear, you gape at them. They’re both big, thick, and throbbing for you. While Gojo is a bit thicker and his pubics are shaven like his toned stomach, Geto has a happy trail and his cock is longe with a hook that makes it lean toward his tummy.

You haven’t seen a cock in so long…let alone two! “So pretty,” you whisper, unable to stop yourself. The duo softly chuckle. “Why, thank you,” Gojo chuckles. “That’s the first I’ve heard. Damn, you really must be drunk.”

Ignoring him, you immediately reach for them and wrap your hand around each. Both cocks throb in response to your hands making contact with them. “Jesus, Y/N,” Geto hisses, swallowing harshly. “Give a guy time to prepare, huh?”

“I’m sorry…did I hurt you?” You go to take your hand away, but he stops you, his tone growing softer. “No, no, darlin’, you misunderstood me. Your hand just felt too fuckin’ good and I’m…sensitive.” You can feel him tense in your hold, his thighs clenched. Are you really making him feel that good?

Gojo cackles beside him, his sunglasses sliding down his nose and revealing his sapphire blue eyes. “You can’t handle it,” he sing-songs. “Go ahead, baby, and give him more of that soft, pretty hand. You can handle two, can’tcha?” Oh, yes…yes, you can. You show them just how by spitting copious amounts of spit on each cock and stroking their shafts up and down, getting used to the feel of them.

You watch the men from beneath your lashes, relishing the way they moan, sigh, and hum from your ministrations. It feels so intoxicating. You feel so powerful making such intimidating men melt under your little hands. You decide to take things further and lick up Gojo’s cock, sucking lightly on the bulbous, pink head.

“Fuck,” he moans to the ceiling, the sound going straight to your pussy. Geto chuckles beside him, albeit breathless from your stroking. “Now who can’t handle it?”

Gojo ignores him, his full attention on you. “Shit, baby,” he sighs. “Y’know, your hand is good an’ all, but I need to feel that pretty mouth too.” He bites his perfect, pink bottom lip, putty in your hands. “Please,” he begs, the moonlight highlighting the yearning in his eyes. “Can you put me in your mouth, doll?”

You’ve never seen the gunslinger look so desperate. So pathetic. It’s so sexy. “Since you asked so nicely…” You wrap your lips around him once more, but you go deeper, bobbing your head up and down his cock. He feels so warm in your mouth and his pre-cum coats your tongue.

“God!” he groans, his hand tangling in your hair. “That’s so fuckin’ good.”

Geto hums in agreement as he watches you work your mouth up and down his partner's dick. “It certainly is,” he agrees. “I’m almost inclined to steal her from you.” You suddenly pop off of Geto’s cock and place your mouth around Geto this time. “Oh, fuck,” he moans, titling his thick neck back. His coal eyes roll back in pleasure, making pleasure and power surge through you.

You switch between the two for a while, giving them each equal amounts of attention. When you suck one, you stroke the other, moving in tandem with your own speed and tempo. “Such a good girl takin’ two dicks at the same time,” Gojo coos. “You like all this attention, don’t you?”

You’re shocked that you even respond, your mouth wrapped around Gojo’s thick cock. “Mmm-ph!” you mumble. You’re even more shocked at how much you love giving them head. Such different sizes. Such different shapes. Such different flavors. Both of them big and hard. All for you.

Gojo wraps your hair around his fist, giving you a tug that makes your pussy throb. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, darlin’. Just keep suckin’.” You do just that, taking him deeper down your throat. His moans are damn near slutty and desperate as you give him throat, your saliva slipping down his balls. “Yes, like that, good girl!”

You do the same thing to Geto too, stroking his cock with your throat. He doesn’t even move as you do it though you can tell he is desperate from the way his thighs clench under your hands. “Goddamn, this mouth,” he groans, shuddering under your touch. You up your speed, bobbing faster and deeper, taking him down your throat despite the sting of your eyes and the ache in your jaw.

When Geto’s moans grow loud, you know that he’s close. “Fuck, baby, stop,” he pants. “I’m about to cum!” He grabs you, forcing you to lift your head. Gojo leans over and wipes the spit from your mouth. “Mmm, me too,” he sighs, fisting his cock in replacement of yours. “You need a break, little lady. I bet those knees are achin’.”

They are, but you barely paid attention. You were too busy enjoying sucking the Gunslingers’ dicks to notice. Gojo suddenly scoots over and crooks his finger at you in a ‘come hither’ motion. “Just come over here,” he coaxes you. Geto helps you off of the floor on your wobbly legs and brings you closer to the couch. Despite the darkness, you see the lust sparkling in them. “Bend over,” he demands and you do so like a puppet on some strings.

Once you’re on all fours between the duo, Geto slides your shorts down without even unzipping them, revealing your ass to them. “God, look at this ass,” he growls, taking a palmful of one of your cheeks. “I’ve been starin’ at it all night.” His fingers feel good massaging the flesh, making you moan.

Gojo ogles at your behind too, still stroking himself. “Luckily, we get it all to ourselves now.” Suddenly, he tilts your head up to meet his eyes. They twinkle and gleam at you. “Do me a favor, baby: suck my cock while Sugu eats you out, okay? Make me feel good while he makes you feel good.”

It may be the alcohol or the arousal, but that idea sounds perfect to you. You lay your head in Gojo’s lap where he feeds you his cock while Geto slides your panties to the side. “Fuck,” he sighs at the sight of your swollen, wet pussy. His tongue suddenly slides against your folds, making you moan around Gojo’s cock. “That’s a good girl,” he moans, his hand in your hair. “How’s she taste, Sugu?”

If the sloppy sounds of Geto’s tongue exploring your pussy isn’t an answer, his delighted moans are. Each moan sends vibrations throughout your cunt, making you shudder and quake against his mouth. You can’t help but whine around Gojo’s cock at the magical feelings the long-haired outlaw gives you. Even his fingers feel good. He uses two of them to rub your clit while his tongue gently probes your hole, exploring the ins and outs of you.

A symphony of moans and lewd, wet sounds drift through the dank, damp air of the lakehouse. The distant sounds of crickets and the rustling of trees make this feel almost romantic. There is no one but you and them, and that feels damn good.

You can feel that knot in your core tightening, threatening to snap the more Geto eats you out. You pop off of Gojo’s cock, panting heavily. “Sugu,” you whine. “I’m gonna cum soon!”

You’re so drunk off of this feeling that you barely realize that you used Geto’s petname. He groans into your pussy and pulls away, your juices shining off of his lips. “Not yet,” he growls. “I want you to cum with me.”

Suddenly, you feel his long cock settling between your asscheeks. You gasp as he begins to rut against your ass, his cock sliding up and down between the soft cheeks that he massages and grabs to his liking.

“Me too,” Gojo moans. “Tell us where you want our loads, baby. On that face? Or those tits? Maybe that ass? Either way, they’re bothin’ on this body of yours.”

That idea also sounds perfect. Everything with them is. “Anywhere,” you desperately whine. “Just not inside.”

Gojo chortles, happy with your compliance. “Anythin’ you want,” Geto answers, tapping his dick against your asscheeks. “Now be a good girl and keep suckin’ on that dick.”

You don’t need to be told twice. You keep throating Gojo’s cock like it’s your profession, leading him to fuck your mouth in time with Geto’s thrusts. You feel like you’re being fucked from both ends, used for their pleasure…and you love it. The sounds of sex increase as you all get closer to your ends, the two men speeding up their thrusts to chase their highs. Geto rubs your clit while Gojo tugs on your nipples, stimulating you from both ends.

You finally can’t take it anymore. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and your mouth opens on a series of moans. “I’m gonna cum!” you warn them, your voice high-pitched and desperate. Gojo silences you with his cock and forces you to look up at him. “Look at me,” he demands. “Don’t you dare look away from me. Look at what you fuckin’ do to me.”

You do as he says even as Geto moans and ruts your ass like an animal behind you, getting closer and closer and closer…. Finally, with two matching moans of release, the duo finally release onto your body. Gojo’s perfect muscles clench as he fists his cock, shooting cum into your mouth while Geto explodes on your ass. You feel warmth splatter across your cheeks, back, and throat, coating you in them.

When you finally cum, you feel like you’re soaring above the clouds with them in tow, coating Geto’s fingers in your juices. It is a wonderful, amazing, intoxicating feeling that makes your toes curl and your head spin….but when you finally come down from the high of your orgasm, you come down hard.

You don’t hear the duo’s pillow talk or talks of being “cummed out” despite them being right there. They feel far away from you suddenly and you’re all alone. Now, reality hits and so does the regret.

‘What the fuck have I done?’ you think. Noticing your sudden change in demeanor, Geto gently touches your back and strokes it. “Y/N?” he asks. “What’s wrong?”

You quickly jump and turn around to look at him, your eyes blurred with tears. “I…I…” You can’t speak, your shame and guilt too overwhelming.

Geto’s coal eyes grown concerned. “Y/N?” he questions, worry laced in his tone. “Honey, talk to us.” He reaches out to touch you, but you flinch away from his touch, jumping off of the couch. The duo stare up at you in confusion, wondering what the hell has gotten into you. “I-I have to go,” you stammer. “I need to…need to get out of here!”

You are suddenly gasping as the tears threaten to push past your eyes, you throat tight like you just dry swallowed a pill. The walls are closing in. Quickly, you reach for your clothes, searching throughout the dark room for your bra.

“Wait, hang on a second,” Gojo protests. “Where are you goin’?”

You don’t answer. You don’t even get dressed before charging for the door, yanking it open, and racing out of the lakehouse. “Wait, wait!” Geto calls. “Y/N, hang on! Don’t leave!”

You don’t turn around to hear him out, instead getting dressed as you stumble down the road. You smell of the two men, the taste of cock on your tongue and the feeling of Geto’s cum dripping off your ass. You don’t feel sexy like you did before. You feel dirty.

That feeling only grows along with your regret the further you get away from the lakehouse. You don’t stop despite your aching legs, blurred vision, and churning stomach. When you finally make it back to the party, it’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back. You can’t stop your dinner or the alcohol from coming out and splattering all over the ground. You bend down in your shorts and wretch, coughing uncontrollably.

“Y/N!” Nanami calls in the distance. When you pick your head up, he and Haibara are racing toward you. “Oh, no, sweetie,” Haibara coos, kneeling beside you. “Here, drink some water.” He hands you his cup of water that you greedily drink, sloshing the rancid taste of vomit out of your mouth.

Nanami’s eyes are serious as they gaze into yours, his hand on your back. “What happened?” he demands. You find that you can’t speak. Your tongue is too heavy and your mouth is full of cotton.

“Y/N!” Geto’s deep voice echoes from down the trail. You startle, looking in the direction of the familiar voice. Nanami notices and his entire demeanor darkens. “Stay here,” he demands, standing up, and before you know it, he’s pulling a pistol from his holster.

“Don’t come any closer,” he growls. “I should’ve known you two were trouble. I knew it as soon as you came here.” “Kento, wait,” he says, but that’s all he gets to say when Nanami suddenly points the gun at the duo. They stop dead in their tracks, Geto instinctively putting himself in front of Gojo slightly.

“What did you do to her?” the doctor growls, an undercurrent of rage in his tone. Geto raises his hands as if calming a snarling animal. “We didn’t do anything,” he firmly says. “We’re just checkin’ on her to make sure she’s alright.”

Haibara quickly comes up behind Nanami and puts a hand on his shoulder. “Listen, let’s all just—“

Nanami shuts him up by cocking his gun at the Gunslingers. “You don’t get to come any closer until you tell me what you did to her. Either that or you two need to leave.” Gojo raises an eyebrow over his shades and shoves Geto aside. “Says who?” he scoffs, hands on his hips. “You? You think your wittle gun is the first one we’ve had in our faces, doc?”

Nanami tightens his jaw so much that you’re afraid he’ll crack his teeth. Gojo keeps going, poking the bear even harder than before. “You couldn’t wait to do this, could you?” he teases. “I’ve seen the way you look at her, like you wanna give her more than just some medicine.”

His smile grows sharp and cruel, mocking the doctor. “But she’ll never see you that way and you know it.” He cocks his head to the side, tutting. As smart as you are, you’re too dumb to see that, Nanami?”

“Stop,” you plea from your spot on the ground. Nanami shockingly slips his gun back into his holster. He then unbuckles his belt and tosses it to the side. You sigh, relieved. “I actually give a damn about her well-being,” he growls. “Unlike you two. You both are incapable of thinkin’ about anyone but yourselves. You don’t need to be anywhere around her.”

Gojo slides his glasses off of eyes, revealing nothing but coolness. “She would beg the differ,” he hisses and that’s the last straw for Nanami. Suddenly, his balled-up fist is connecting with Gojo’s face, knocking his sunglasses off. You screech in horror, covering your mouth. The outlaw stumbles, but barely falters despite the blow. Instead, he tosses his own punch at Nanami, nailing him in the nose. Blood gushes from Nanami’s nostril, but it’s not enough to stop him from throwing another hit at Gojo.

Gojo dodges it and charges at Nanami, ducking low to wrap his arms around his midsection. The two go flying back into the dirt and wrestle one another, each trying to get on top of the other. Geto steps in and tosses Nanami off of him before turning to help Gojo up. This would prove to be a bad idea because Nanami sneak punches him in the back of the head, sending Geto onto his knees from the blow.

Nanami goes to kick him with his boot, but Gojo rises to his feet and clocks him in the jaw. Geto gets up too and soon, it’s two against one. Hats come off, blood gushes out, bruises bloom on their skin where their fists connect. “Stop!” you scream from the sidelines. “Please, please stop!”

Haibara tries to stop them, tugging on Nanami’s arm to get him away, but he nearly gets clocked in the nose and has to jump away from the scene. You feel absolutely hopeless…until you see Nanami’s belt. Immediately, you lunge for it and fish his pistol out before pointing it at the staryr sky.

BANG! BANG!

The four men immediately flinch and look your way, wide-eyed and shaken up. You glare at them, smoke billowing from Nanami’s gun. “I said stop!” you shout, your voice nearly raw from the shouting. They continue to stare at you like you just killed somebody until you hear footsteps behind you.

You turn, finding your parents and partygoers who have come to the door to investigate. The music plays on inside. Eren steps forward, looking like a very angry Western dad in his hat and boots. “What in the hell is goin’ on out here?” he demands, his voice booming. “What, have you all gone insane?”

Yuri quickly moves to your side, taking the gun from your shaky hand. “Y/N,” she gasps. “Flower, what happened?” You don’t answer. You suddenly can’t speak.

Nanami, Geto, and Gojo look battered and bruised, their clothes dirty and boots scuffed from their fight. Eren steps to them, as angry as a bull seeing red.

“I don’t know why you three are fightin’ or what this is about, but I will not tolerate that mess here. There are children here!” He glares at each of them. “You’re lucky the sheriff went home or else, you’d all be locked up right now and I would figure some of you would want to steer clear of jail time.”

Nanami looks away, ashamed, while Gojo is busy nursing his bruised cheek. “We’re sorry, sir,” Geto pants, bowing respectfully. “We meant no disrespect to you, your family, or your town.”

That doesn’t sweeten the pot for Eren. “You are men,” he snaps. “Act like it. My daughter don’t need no little boys on her arm.”

Oh, God. Not him too. “Papa, please!” you shout, frustrated tears streaming down your cheeks. “Not now! I don’t wanna hear that!” Exhaustion and shame overtakes you, making you slump forward. “Just take me home. I just wanna go home,” you sob.

Yuri rubs your back, shiftling into mama mode. “Okay, why don’t we all just settle down and call it a night?” she softly yet firmly suggests. There is no room for discussion. She swoops you away to get cleaned up and fetch you some water before she walks you to Eren’s truck. Nanami and Haibara are already there, helping pack Yuri’s vendor into the trunk.

Geto and Gojo are nowhere to be found. You left them out back without a single word. You feel a pang of guilt for that.

Nanami, sporting two balls of tissue in his nose and dirt stains on his clothes, stares down at you guilty. “I apologize for how I reacted tonight,” he sighs. “I hope you can forgive me and that your parents are too upset.”

You shake your head, laying a hand on his arm. “Nanami, you saved my life. I don’t think they can be too upset. Thank you both for the help.” Nanami cracks a smile despite his bloody nose.

“It’s no problem,” Haibara says with a smile, patting you on the back. “You’ll be alright, right?” You nod, giving him your own reassuring smile. You don’ feel like you’ll be alright though. Yuri then returns with a basket of leftover goodies and wraps a protective arm around you. “Thank you, boys,” she says. “We’ll take her from here.”

When Eren drives off with you in the backseat minutes later, Nanami and Haibara watch you go. You don’t turn around to see if Geto and Gojo are watching. You end up falling asleep on the bumpy roads, the alcohol making you feel heavy and tired. As soon as you get home, you drag your tired, drunk self upstairs and to your bedroom where you immediately dive onto your soft, loving bed.

It doesn’t take long for your mind to stop spinning and finally settle. As sleep begins to set in and blurs the lines between reality and dreamland, you believe you hear the sound of the door creaking open and footsteps thudding across the floor. You’re too tired to lift your head to see if it’s real.

You then feel two pairs of soft lips on your forehead and smell cigarette smoke on them. You think it’s just a hallucination, but then you feel it again: lips on your skin as soft as butterfly wings.

“Close the door slowly,” Geto whispers, his voice unmistakeable to your ear. But before you can make any sense of why he’s in your room, the bedroom door creaks shut and you’re left alone to sleep off tonight.

[svuobsessed]

SVU team X Autistic Victim teen reader

Literally started watching Law and Order SVU yesterday and fell in love with the show well the sixth season at least.

This will be my first ever L&O SVU one-shot.

Summary: The team are called in after a Teen was beaten up by two other students.

Third person pov...

The smell of the hospital woke Y/N L/N up, they had always hated the smell of the rooms it made their sensory issues skyrocket.

Opening their eyes they are meet with bright white lights, groaning they close their eyes again, sitting up carefully being mined full of their injuries.

Slowly the teen opens their eyes again, this time the light was not as bad, Y/N looked around the spacious room, the teen was alone in the room.

They could not remember anything, rocking slowly trying to calm down they wracked their brain for something but could not remember. "Stupid stupid, what the hell happened to me" they shout smacking their head as they started to freak out.

As they were having a meltdown the doors opened and in came Detectives Olivia Benson and Elliot Stabler. "Y/N what's wrong sweetie?" Calls Olivia as they rushed over to the teenager.

Hearing voices they did not know made Y/N look up and crawl out of their bed as they stood searing pain shot through their head groaning in pain they wobbled; Olivia grabbed the teen to stop them from falling.

Instead, they struggled in her hold trying to get away from her. "Stop let go off me" they yell eventually Oliva let them go. The teen crumpled to the floor against a wall rocking back and forth hands in their hair trembling all over.

Olivia and Elliot look at each other. "What the hell happened there?" questions Elliot watching the distraught teen work they way through a panic attack. Suddenly the doors opened it was Y/Ns parents, outside the room they answered the twos questions. "Y/N is autistic which is why they reacted that way, the new room and new people triggered them into a meltdown" explained Y/Ns dad as he held his wife.

Crying the woman looked at the two detectives "what happened to our child, why where they attacked" she cried, Olivia and Elliot look at each other before telling the two.

During Y/Ns 4th period lesson they left the classroom for a breather as they got overwhelmed, as they did the teen was followed by two students. 15 minutes later the two students walk back joking and shoving each other in the hall, Y/N know where to be seen.

Lucky for them the janitor was passing by and found them unconscious and beaten up, at the end both Y/Ns parents wanted to press charges but could not without Y/N present.

Days later Y/N had woken up again in the hospital this time a lot more calm and not as anxious. The 13 year old was sat up in the bed, they had a bandage wrapped around their head their attackers got in a few good swings to their head.

The teen also had bruises on their arms, they had tried to protect themselves from the attack though being surprised, the door to Y/Ns room opened the teen turned their head, it was the detectives from before.

Sitting up they continued to look off sideways as the two detectives approached the H/C Haired teens bed. "Hi Y/N, I'm Olivia this is Elliot" she introduces them. Y/N does not look at them but nods.

Elliot looks at the teen and stands closer. "Y/N we wanted to ask some questions about the day you were attacked?" he asks the teen, sighing the teen turns their head to look at the man.

"I didn't see their faces" they whisper, the adults could tell they were lying by the way their voice cracked, the two detectives eye each other before Olivia sits next to Y/N on the bed.

"that's a lie sweetie and you know it" she tells them gently, Y/N looks up at her tears in their E/C eyes. "I know, I can't tell I won't" they cry hands shaking in their lap. Olivia holds out her hand to the teen as an invitation to hold hers.

Two both hers and Elliots surprise the teen grabbed her hand squeezing tightly as they cried.

The team are stuck at the precinct Benson, Stabler, Tutuola and Munch all stand around the evidence board in front of them, it was filled with pictures of what happened to Y/N, the footage of the two students.

"That poor child, who in their right mind would beat someone for being different" says Munch as he stares at a picture of Y/Ns injuries pissed off. "Your right partner, little shits" Fin pats the man's shoulder.

On the desk next to them stand Olivia and Elliot. "If only we could persuade Y/N to tell us their attackers" says Elliot slamming his hand down on the table, Oliva sighs and looks at the forage. "We can't push the, they are already traumatised enough" as the team stand around someone pats Elliots back.

This scares the man; he had not heard any footsteps telling him someone was there. Turning around he was shocked at who was there. "Y/N" the name made the others turn around.

Behind Elliot stood their 13 year old victim, the teen had numerous bandages around their arms and head, headphones around their neck and a small stuffed toy. "I'm here to report an assault" the relief on the faces of the detectives is seen.

Olivia stands from her chair and beckons the teen over. "Come on sweetie, I'll take you to an interview room" she takes the teen to an unused room, the teen looks around and sets their bag and stuffed toy on the table.

Munch and Fin are disgusted at how the arseholes beat up Y/N, turning to Elliot they see a pissed of look on his face. "Those bastards" growls Fin, Munch agrees "they deserve to be locked up for good" he says, Elliot follows after Y/N and Olivia.

Hours later Y/N had told the two everything that had happened to the over the past year, they had been beaten up before by the same kids but not so bad they had to go to the hospital, lucky for Y/N both attackers were charged with category 1 of grievous bodily harm with 26 month in juvie with 100 hours of community service.

Y/N was more than happy with the charges, their parent profusely thanked the SVU team for their help.

The end!

I plan to skip most of the court parts because I know nothing about how they work so sorry I only really know about the kind of charges you can get, anyway sorry for any grammar and spelling mistakes.

Requests are open!

Word count: 1171

[justalilpearlie]

AITA for torturing my soulmate after he ditched me?

I know how the title sounds, but bare with me for a second.

So for context, a couple months ago I (27F) was put in a hunger games sort of death game with a couple friends where we'd have a random amouth of lives assigned to us and the last one standing would win. We could gift eachother lives or trade with them. To make it short, I got 6 lives, putting me in dark green, but my ally (28M), let's call him S, got 2, and was on his yellow life. So we partnered up and I ended up gifting him TWO of my lives this season, and we became best friends.

The problem started about a month ago, after he won last season and we moved into the next one, yet another death game, this time with only 3 lives each, however, there was a twist. Basicly we were all soulbounded to another person there, and when one took damage their soulmate did aswell.

Everyone went on their own separate ways, looking for resources to start off and testing if anyone they met along the way was their soulmate or not. I did this aswell! And ended up sticking around my friend M (33M). We separate for a little bit, and when I find him again M asks me if I wanna go to the NETHER with him. Worst. Mistake. Of. My. Life.

But I thought "Yeah, a quick trip to the Nether cant hurt, as long as we're careful, our soulmates wont mind!", thats where I was WRONG. Once we got back we called over everyone else in the server who hadn't found their soulmates yet, and two people quickly arrived, S and C (42F), both of which were my friends and allies from the first season! M made us play a little game called "Lost and Bound", or would've if we hadn't figured out early who my soulmate was, when a goat attacked S.

Turns out S was my soulbound and C was M's! And they weren't very happy about our little adventure. They called us cheaters, told us we abandoned them, said they'd be eachothers soulmates, and practically broke up with us… in a soulbound way? They also claimed to HATE us for just a small Nether trip. I was heartbroken I'm ngl. My two best friends and past allies, abandoned me just like that, and claimed I was the cheater!

Not only that, but M was quick to ditch me aswell! He even said he blamed me for it. After that I was left alone with my precious dog Tilly (??F), I built a tower alone since I had nobody left with me. But guess what? Everyone started calling me a WITCH and S stared acting like I was some sort of "crazy ex girlfriend".

This is where I feel like I might've been wrong with how I acted. So my other friend, lets call him R(41M), gave me the idea of taking small amounts of damage to "torture" S. I know its bad, but I was very angry at him for what he'd done and said at the time. So I took R up on it and accepted his powdered snow gift, I'd chill on it often to "tickle" S and scare him a little bit. I'd do this almost every day, sometimes standing next to a cactus aswell once I got one.

But in the end, M, C, S and I teamed up together until we all turned red. From then on I kind of went all in at C and might've sent my pack of dogs after her… and of course killed M in the process. Then S told me to meet him where it all started, before blowing himself up with tnt to let me take the win.

It's been a bit since that happened and we're probably gonna start another of these games soon. I've forgiven him for what he did, and it seems like he did aswell, but… I cant help but feel a bit guilty for all that pain I put him through. AITA?

Edit: I also forgot to mention how C tried to burn my dog?? So I was also very pissed at her about it.

[samsalami66]

Red Card Plays

Another day, another dreamling soccer au fic! Have fun reading!

Read on ao3 here!

(TW: Homophobia, Abuse, Panic Attacks)

“You’re here early.” 

Morpheus didn’t look up at the sound of Hob’s voice, too used to it by now to be startled out of his warm-up. He took a deep breath so he might answer the unspoken question which Hob asked almost every time when he found him on the pitch way before training started.

“Yes I… I wanted to get some extra training in.” It was an easy lie, almost coming naturally with how many times he had already said it. “You are early as well.”

Hob nodded as he sat down next to him, mirroring his position. 

“Oh yeah, it makes Gilbert happy when I show up early from time to time, to straighten my bad track record.” 

This, too, was familiar. Finding pretty words in order not to outright name the punishment at hand, make light of the situation one found themselves in. It was only a matter of time until Morpheus would find himself subjected to the darker side the Fiddlers surely possessed, or be faced with it through one of the other players. 

Though he hoped it would not have to be Hob, when it came to it. Morpheus had rather started to enjoy the other man’s calming presence. 

“I understand. Say, what would Gilbert do if he was unhappy with a player’s performance?” Morpheus would want to know what to expect sooner rather than later, to get an understanding of what Gilbert’s chosen ways of training were. That way he might prepare accordingly. 

“What would he do?” Hob was frowning at him, his arms crossing over his chest. “You mean outside of talking to you?”

Now, Morpheus was frowning too. Surely Hob understood that he could talk about this freely. They were teammates now after all, and perhaps even on the way of becoming something like friends. “I mean… extra training, punishments, or whatever you call it here.”

The stare Hob gave him was bordering on worry. “Dream” he started, slowly. “What did Roderick do, when he was unhappy with your performance?”

Weird question, but alright.

“The usual?” When Hob just kept staring at him, Morpheus continued with a roll of his eyes. “Running until collapsing, no water for the day, sometimes he got out the cane.”

Hob’s stare turned dark at his words, his jaw tensed and he took a deep breath. 

“Burgess abused you?”

“What? No!” It was Morpheus’ turn to frown again. “No, those were just training methods, to keep us on track. How else would you ensure people keep up with it?”

“Enthusiasm? Loyalty? Adjusting the training to the players? Motivate them?”

“What motivates a player better than the fear of punishment?”

Morpheus was growing frustrated. There was no reason for Hob to be so stubborn about admitting to this. 

“Anything, Dream, literally anything else would be more motivating for a player. You left the Riggers the moment Burgess bit the dust, didn’t you?”

That. Well, that was true. But Morpheus hadn’t left the team because of that, it was just that he couldn’t stand to play there when Roderick was gone. His ghost had been everywhere, his voice constantly at the back of his mind, telling him he was doing it all wrong, that he was a burden for the team, that only he could make him worth something as a player. That was why he had left.

“Dream, love, I need you to listen to me. Can you do that?”

Of course he could, there was nothing wrong with him, after all. Any player Morpheus had ever talked to (which, admittedly, were just his old teammates. They hadn’t been allowed friendship or anything similar outside of their team) experienced the same treatment and knew about these training methods, accepted them as effective, even. So of course he could look at Hob. He could even hold his gaze, even if the worry in his teammate’s eyes made his stomach clench with a feeling he could not place. 

“Nobody is going to hurt you here. Nobody, Dream,” Hob’s eyes held a seriousness Morpheus simply couldn’t understand, that did not make sense. 

“But Roderick didn’t hurt me. He disciplined me, he, he motivated me and pushed me to be better, to be the best version of myself.”

His voice was loud. Morpheus did not remember raising it, nor did he know why tears were gathering in his eyes or why he felt the need to hug his knees to his chest like a toddler. He was not some child after all, and there was no reason for this. 

“Oh, love,” It was so soft, so filled with care, and Morpheus felt the tears spill over. Arms wrapped around him, pulled him close, so that all he could feel was Hob’s warmth surrounding him as he cried. Though what for, he still wasn’t sure. 

- - - 

“How are we feeling?” 

We. It implied a shared feeling, as if emotions could be experienced conjointly. Perhaps Hob Gadling really did share worry, fear and joy with those around him. Empathetic, in a way Morpheus failed to fully understand. 

He was grateful for it now. 

Now, they were sitting, together, in Hob’s car, waiting for him to be ready to step outside and begin therapy. He was not alone. Hob was here, with him. Holding his hand. Patient, caring. Morpheus was not sure that he deserved this care, this love. Which, perhaps, was one of the reasons he was sitting here. Or at least Hob had informed him that such thoughts were deemed ‘unhealthy’. 

Morpheus could not remember a time where he had felt worthy of love. Or a time where he had been loved, the way Hob explained love was supposed to be. Unconditional. 

There had always been conditions. His mother had loved him when he did her bidding, his father when he kept quiet. Epithumia had loved him when he left their home. 

Hob said he loved Morpheus for himself, for his friendship and his character. Morpheus did not quite believe him, but perhaps he would, in time. 

So, how was he feeling?

“I am. Afraid. Of talking to this person. But I also wish to. To learn. I wish to become a better friend.” 

It was what they were, now. Friends. A baffling concept to Morpheus, that a person so caring could expand their care to him of all people. But he did. And Morpheus was thankful for it. 

Hob grasped his hand and squeezed it tightly, the action grounding him.

“Being afraid of this is the most natural thing, love. I was so nauseous the first time I came here I almost turned around and went back home.” It didn’t sound like a bad idea at all, and Morpheus said so. Hob squeezed his hand again with a soft smile. “If you really don’t want to go, we can turn around and reschedule. We will do this in your time, however long it takes.”

“You would leave, now? When we are already here? When all I have to do is step out of your car and into the building?” It would be an inconvenience. It would mean doing it all over again, driving into the city and spending hours in his presence. Things nobody would want to do, not voluntarily. 

“Of course I would, Dream. These things can’t be rushed. If you aren’t ready, it doesn’t need to happen today.”

Morpheus nodded, once, before taking a deep breath. Hob was not like the people he had known so far. He knew this. 

“You will be here?”

“Awaiting your return, my friend.”

Another deep breath, another nod, and Morpheus pushed the door of the car open and made his way inside, knowing that Hob would be there. Just like he promised. 

- - - 

An hour later, almost on the dot, Morpheus stepped back out of the building, feeling like a single touch might break him apart. Hob had tried to warn him that there would be a lot of feelings he wouldn’t understand, and wouldn't be able to place. Never had Morpheus felt so out of his depth, like his skin didn’t fit quite right anymore and his mind was not his own. 

But that was alright. Because Hob was there. Waiting, just as he had promised. Even if Morpheus didn’t feel like he knew himself anymore, Hob was waiting, patient, just like he always was.

Morpheus wanted to hug him, to be held, so he wouldn’t feel like he might shatter apart anymore. But at the same time touch felt impossible, the very idea made his skin crawl like a hundred ants were trapped in his veins. He wasn’t sure what to do about it, so he did not do anything, except open the passenger side to Hob’s car. 

And there, on his seat, was a… a toy. A plushie. A fox-plushie, to be exact, large red ears with black tips, a very fluffy tail and black button eyes. It was… cute. It looked like something his younger self would have loved to own, something he would have paraded around as his favourite possession.  

“A little surprise, for being brave enough to walk in there,” said Hob, his voice soft as he leaned towards the other seat so Morpheus could see him. He was smiling, pride clear in his eyes, and Morpheus could feel himself blush. It had been a long time since someone had last told him they were proud of him, longer still since he had been given a gift for doing something right. He must have been silent for a moment too long, missing the time it was socially acceptable to answer, because Hob was looking at him apologetically and reached for the plushie. “Sorry, I thought it was a good idea, but it’s childish, really, you don’t have to-”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence before Morpheus snatched the fox away from him and held it close to his chest, suddenly protective over the toy. 

“A gift from my only friend could never be childish, Robert.” Morpheus huffed, his eyes narrowed playfully at the other man. Teasing was still unfamiliar to him, but he believed himself to be finally getting the hang of it. “Also, don’t disrespect Gerhard the Great like that. He detests being called a children’s toy.”

His teasing must have worked, as Hob barked out a laugh at the name he had given the fox, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I wouldn’t dare! Gerhard the Great deserves all the respect I can offer. As do you, my friend.”

When Hob said ‘friend’, it sounded like a lot of things. ‘My king’, ‘My Lord’, ‘My Love’. It was never just one thing. Friend, for this man, meant everything. Morpheus doubted that Hob would stop calling his partner his friend, or that he could ever have a partner who was not also his friend. It was a weird thing to know so early on in their acquaintance, but Hob was an open book about these things. 

Hob’s openness calmed Morpheus, made it easy to trust him. And so far, his trust had only been well-placed. The fox in his arms was just another reminder of the great man Hob Gadling was. He wouldn’t judge or harm him. The only thing Hob knew to do was to care and protect. 

He had cared enough to know Morpheus would feel difficult about touch. And he had cared enough to think further, to find a solution Morpheus would have never thought of himself. 

And so, Morpheus slid easily into the passenger seat, with Gerhard the Great resting safely on his lap and one hand playing with his ears. 

“Could I tell you what I talked about with Lydia, in the past hour?”

“Of course! Whatever you want to talk about, my friend, I’m happy to listen.”

- - - 

Autism and ADHD had not been the diagnoses Morpheus had expected to get first, considering all the problems he had come to realise he had. But, as it was, Lydia had handed him books on both topics only about a month after he started therapy, and the more he read about the disorders, the more he began to see why they hadn’t been particularly hard diagnoses to make. Perhaps the fact that he was never able to stop playing around with the tissue boxes that were strategically placed around the room had been a sign. Or that he had to cover his ears from the sound of the fan and had been seconds away from what Lydia had called a ‘meltdown’, because the sound had felt like someone was scraping his brain with sandpaper. 

Perhaps, if Morpheus had had access to these books earlier, he would have noticed that he was different a lot sooner. He understood now that arguments with his old teammates had often sprouted from misunderstandings and an inability on his side to communicate his problems. Though they hadn’t been the best human beings either, so they probably wouldn’t have listened to him about his problems anyway. 

But Lydia said that he would have to try it with the Fiddlers in order to know if they were the same. Morpheus didn’t know why anyone would want to accommodate his problems, especially when he could simply push through them and pretend nothing was wrong, like he had done his whole life. Unhealthy, Lydia would chide him. He began to understand where Hob got that word from. 

He, too, said a similar thing after all, when Morpheus told him about that week’s session. It’s unhealthy to go about your whole life masking, he had said. Morpheus hadn’t known what ‘masking’ was supposed to be at that point, but he had nodded along like he understood. Whenever something is making you feel uncomfortable, just tell us, yeah? Promise we will try to help. And that had been it. 

Honestly, Hob hadn’t seemed particularly surprised about the diagnoses either. Perhaps Morpheus hadn’t been doing as well at hiding his problems as he had previously thought. 

But even with Hob’s reassurance and the fact that nothing between them or the team seemed to change after the diagnoses, it still took Morpheus another month to voice a matter of discomfort to them. Old habits die hard, after all. 

It was a Saturday and the team was getting ready for Drink Night, as was customary for them. Morpheus had been staying at Hob’s place, as he often did these days. They would watch movies or prepare dinner together on Friday nights. It was a comfortable routine, especially when Drink Night was always held at the New Inn and they simply had to walk down a flight of stairs to get there. They had their corner booth reserved every week, the bartender and waiters knew them all by name and were close friends of Hob’s, who was also the owner of the pub. If it ever became too crowded or loud for him, Morpheus would simply excuse himself to Hob’s flat. 

It was a comfortable routine. One Morpheus was not very inclined to break. 

But this Saturday, the team wanted to celebrate the opening of a new place around town. It was so new, there were no reviews or pictures online. No menu. It would be on the other side of London, far away from any of their homes, and they might have to stand in a queue in order to get in, if they would even get in all together. 

Morpheus was… slightly uncomfortable at the idea. 

“You look like your spine might snap with how tense you are.” Well, perhaps it was more than slight discomfort. Or Hob was simply getting too perceptive. Either way, he has been called out and was not feeling particularly great about it. 

“I’m fine.” He tried to deflect, but Hob was having none of it. His hands came up to massage Morpheus’ shoulders, turning him into jelly with his strong fingers digging into Morpheus’ tense muscles. 

“I can see that you’re not. Tell me what’s up so we can find a way to fix it.” 

Hob made it sound so easy. As if Morpheus just had to say the word and he would make it happen, no matter what the request was. Perhaps he would. 

Morpheus realised he wanted to find out. 

“I do not wish to go to another pub today.” He answered quietly, eyes closed and focusing on Hob’s touch, grounding him. “I fear getting… overstimulated by the surroundings and unknown parameters and not having a place to withdraw to. And I… I enjoy spending time at The New Inn.” It was a slow explanation, halting and awkward, for Morpheus was still unused to voicing his feelings in this manner. But it was easier with Hob at his back, and the knowledge that he would never be judged by this man. When he finished his explanation, the hands on his shoulders disappeared so that arms could circle around his waist and pull him into a hug. Hob was warm and solid behind him, and Morpheus felt safe like this, safe to voice any and all of his concerns. 

“Thank you for telling me, Dream. I’m so proud of you.” Warmth he wasn’t quite certain he deserved to feel swelled in Morpheus’ chest at the words, at the knowledge of having made his friend proud. “Let’s text the others to meet us here instead, yeah?”

Telling the other team members felt scarier than telling Hob, but Morpheus thought he could do anything with Hob holding him close like this. 

“Very well.” He murmured, and Hob’s arms left his body in search of his phone. Morpheus knew it was in the bathroom, where Hob had been shaving a few minutes prior and upon telling him so, he received a kiss to the cheek from his friend. 

“What would I do without you?”

It was a good question, though Morpheus felt he should be the one asking it. He answered nonetheless, but really it was more for himself than Hob. 

“I don’t know, Hob. I don’t know what I would do.”

- - - 

As the beginning of the season approached, Morpheus began to talk more with Lydia about how this time was different from how it had been at Fawney Rig. 

The overall mood of the Fiddlers did not change much as the first match drew nearer. They were growing excited, more active at training, but not really stressed or anxious. The daily talks with Gilbert seemed to help them a lot, hearing that he believed in them to play a fantastic season and could see they were coming together well as a team. 

In contrast to that, Morpheus remembered nothing but fear around the same time last year. The Riggers had been agitated, frightened of the threats Roderick would throw their way the moment he laid eyes on them. They had known that a lost match would mean punishment, that they would have to double their efforts in training and halve their hours of sleep for the weeks to come in order to placate their coach. And even then, they would get the cane. 

Apparently, a safer environment did not immediately erase years of abuse (and wasn’t it a weird thing to finally accept Roderick’s behaviour for what it had been). 

But it helped, to be able to talk about his fears with Lydia, and, later, with Hob. They had even convinced him to talk to Gilbert about it, who had pulled him into a tight hug after his explanation. On all accounts, the team and Lydia were doing their absolute best to reassure Morpheus that failure was alright and that it would not end in punishment or disappointment. Nobody would think less of him if they lost. 

And yet, when the first match approached, Morpheus found himself pacing the locker rooms, his hands shaking and mind racing. He couldn’t lose this match. It was not only the first of the season, but his first as a player for the Fiddlers, his first chance to prove himself as valuable to the team. 

What would happen if he fucked this up? What would the others think of him if he couldn’t manage to win their first game? Would Gilbert think his trust had been misplaced? That he hadn’t been worth the money of the transfer? 

“Dream?” Hob’s voice called, and unlike usual, it brought forth fear instead of warmth (which only made Morpheus feel worse, for Hob did not deserve to be feared). “Are you coming? We’re about to go on the pitch.”

He wanted to say no, that he was about to throw up or scream or pull out his own hair with how afraid he was. But there was no time left, the point of saying something long past, and so Morpheus simply nodded and followed his friend. 

Hob was perceptive as always, throwing him worried glances as they stood in line in front of the stairs to the pitch. The others were talking animatedly to the opposing team, cracking jokes and wishing them luck, but Morpheus couldn’t help but keep to himself and hide slightly behind Hob from the cameras. The public didn’t need to see just how nervous he was. Thankfully, Hob picked up on it quickly and moved to fully shield him from their view, taking one of his hands into his own and squeezing it tightly. 

“You will do just fine, Dream. I know you will.” It was a whisper, only meant for Morpheus’ ears. 

“What if I don’t?”

“Then you have given your best and will try again next time.”

Morpheus huffed, disbelieving. “I do not believe that that would be the end of it.” 

It looked like Hob was about to respond, but he was interrupted by the announcement that the players would now enter the pitch. The time for talking was over. 

For the most part, the match went alright. Hob shot an early goal, grinning wide as the crowd erupted into cheers. He bowed and threw them kisses, as was his custom, and Morpheus now understood that there was no arrogance behind that celebration, but genuine love and adoration for his fans. He had never understood it, because the Riggers’ fans had been similarly horrible to the players. They had always hated him, but it got worse after Roderick told the world about his sexuality. After that he would have food and sometimes flares thrown at him from the stands, booing from the crowd whenever he shot a goal. Morpheus couldn’t remember a single time fans cheered for him. 

Perhaps if he proved himself with the Fiddlers, the fans would start tolerating him, cheering for him. 

But for that, Morpheus had to score. 

He tried everything, every single trick up his sleeve, but the ball never found its goal. The goalkeeper was good, too good, and with every goal Morpheus failed to score his desperation grew. This was not how it usually went. He was better than this, he was so much better. But it seemed like he wasn’t good enough to win them this match. 

Ten minutes before the end, the opposing team scored the equaliser. 

Five minutes later and they were leading. 

There was nothing Morpheus could do anymore. His last shot went sailing over the goal, a pathetic attempt overall. And then it was over. The referee announced the end of the match, and everything came crashing down. 

He was breathing too quickly, too shallow. They lost. The first game of the season, his first game for the team, and they lost. 

“Dream?” Hob’s voice was close, and so soft, but Morpheus couldn’t help flinching at the sound of it. Surely not even Hob was a good enough man to look past his miserable performance today, he would be angry or disappointed, would blame him and- and punish him- “Dream, love, please look at me. Everything will be alright, just look at me, yeah?”

He couldn’t ignore Hob. Not even when he was afraid the other man would hurt him could he deny him a request, and so he lifted his eyes to look at his friend (and in this moment, friend meant so many things. It meant ‘knight’ and ‘protector’ and ‘sun’ and ‘hope’. It meant everything). 

Hob looked sad. Worried. Morpheus wanted to take him into his arms, hold him close, but before he could say so, Hob had already pulled him in. He was too warm and smelled of sweat, but it was still Hob’s smell, Hob’s warmth, and so it was nothing but comfort to Morpheus. 

“It’s okay, love. It’s okay that we lost.” There was no stopping the tears once they started, the fear and stress crashing down on him with Hob’s words, spoken even in the face of their loss. “You did so well. I’m proud of you, okay?” 

Morpheus didn’t understand how Hob could say these things when he had every reason to be mad at him, but he was grateful for it. Even if the rest of the team didn’t react as well as him, Morpheus felt like he would be able to stand their judgement with Hob at his side. Though it was only a matter of minutes before he felt more arms around him, hands clapping on his back and shoulders. A mix of Well done, Dreamy! and Good shit, boss! reached his ears, each member of the team coming over to congratulate him. They were all in good spirits, grinning wide, and Morpheus slowly began to relax under their steady praise, the reassurance that nobody blamed him for their loss. 

But only when a soft hand reached for his shoulder with the words You did well, son, did Morpheus relax completely, hiding his face in Hob’s neck and finally breathing normally again for the first time in weeks. 

- - - 

After that first match, Morpheus was slowly growing into his role as the second offence player. Without the fear of failure weighing on his shoulders, he was able to play in a way he had never been capable of before. He had fun. 

Of course, he had always been good at football, and he had always gained a certain form of joy from seeing his skills develop and having them acknowledged. But he had never had fun playing with others. The Riggers had tolerated him for his skill, but they hadn’t played with him. None of them had been anywhere near good enough to keep up with him, even if they had tried.

Playing with the Fiddlers was different. 

Hob was incredible, he saw the game in ways Morpheus had never before considered, offered advice and tricks and actually managed to teach him things. His technical skills were great as well, though they were not nearly as precise as Morpheus’ own, which were built from hours upon hours of non-stop training and repetition, in contrast to Hob’s quick improvisational talent. He was quick at coming up with a new move, whereas Morpheus was quick at finding the right move for the right situation. By all accounts, it should come as a surprise that the two of them managed to work so well together. But after an initial period of familiarisation, they functioned like they were made to play with each other. 

Game after game they became better, weaving through the opposing team without difficulty, communicating by a single glance. It was the most fun Morpheus had ever had playing this sport. 

The fact that they won almost every game after that first one became a certainty, inevitable with the force of nature Morpheus and Hob had become. 

And the fans of Fiddler’s Green had picked up on it immediately. By the fourth game they were screaming when Morpheus scored, and by the eighth game a song erupted in the fanblock. 

Mister Sandman, bring me a Dream! Bum Bum Bum Bum, make him the cutest that I’ve ever seen!

It came as a total surprise, his nickname having apparently reached the fans, and Morpheus tried his best to hide the tears in his eyes as the people cheered at him when he waved in response. Fans were cheering at him for the first time in his career, and had even come up with a chant, all while he was having the time of his life playing for a team that supported and cared for him. 

It was as close to heaven as Morpheus thought he might get.

At least until, one game, he had to be reminded that his life was simply not like that. 

During their fourteenth match of the season, after he and Hob had scored a goal each before the break, Morpheus found himself in a one on one with one of the defenders. The man was big, bulky, and by default, slower than him. But his instincts were good, and so they were head to head for several seconds, fighting for the ball, until Morpheus gained the upper hand and was about to move past the other man. That was when he suddenly grabbed Morpheus by the shoulders and shoved him into the advertising boards, hard enough to rob him of the air in his lungs. 

Moments later, in which Morpheus was still regaining his orientation, he felt something wet hitting his face. It was… familiar, which only added to the panic he felt rising in his chest. Spitting in his face was one of Roderick’s favourite methods of degradation, whenever he had wanted to remind Morpheus of how dirty and sinful his existence was. 

“Do you think I will be outplayed by a little cocksucker?” The man was yelling, his face close enough to Morpheus’ that he could feel his breath hitting his cheek with every word. Another shove, and Morpheus was falling to the ground, his back hitting the board hard. “You won’t get away with it, little fag, because nobody here gives a shit about you. Nobody will come and help you. You’re nothing.”

Morpheus wasn’t sure when exactly the voice of the defender turned into that of Roderick, but he knew that it was his old trainer that he heard screaming at him by the end of it. Flashes of a cane were appearing at the edge of his vision, and Morpheus cowered in fear from it, trying to shield his body as much as possible and closing his eyes against it. The yelling continued, insult after insult thrown at him, all of it in the voice of a dead man. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind Morpheus heard Lydia’s voice, the words PTSD and triggers and panic attack making their way through the screams and the growing sound of his own breathing, which was getting more hectic by the second. The words were closely followed by breathe and comfort and safety and a mantra of Hob Hob Hob Hob. Morpheus tried to force them past his lips, through the gasping breaths he was taking and the sobs shaking his body. Everything would be alright if Hob was there. Hob would protect him, against Roderick and Alex and everyone else, he was safety and comfort. 

Around Morpheus, the lights were suddenly dimmed. Hands gently grasped his head, covering his ears, and another sob left his lips at the relief he suddenly felt. He hadn’t noticed how overstimulated he had become, how loud the voices around him had been and how bright the lights. The hands had to be Hob’s, because no one else had ever touched him so gently, and no one else would know that light and noise might bother him. Morpheus simply had to make sure. Concentrate on the voices he could hear, the actual voices, not that of Roderick’s ghost still pestering his mind. Between the shouts of players and fans, he could finally hear it, a soft repeating of Dream Dream Dream. When his ears registered Hob’s voice, his nose was quick to follow, noticing Hob’s smell was everywhere around him. Opening his eyes was easier then, knowing that his friend was close, and so he managed to squint into the dimmed light after blinking a few times. 

What he saw then was Hob, shirtless, holding his jersey over their heads to block out light and cameras and onlookers alike, softly repeating his name over and over again. It was just them in this little bubble, and Morpheus finally felt like he could breathe again, like the air was reaching his lungs, and so he gasped desperately for air, trying to get his breathing back under control. But finding a rhythm seemed impossible, and with every second he continued to struggle he felt himself drifting back into a panic. But then arms pulled him against a strong chest, his ear pressed to bare skin, and he could feel it rise and fall beneath him. Follow the rhythm, in and out, in and out, until he was finally breathing normally again. 

“You’re doing so well, Dream. That’s it, take your time.” Morpheus knew the sound he made upon registering Hob’s words again was embarrassing and weak and pathetic, but right that moment, he did not care about it. Hearing Hob, not only his voice but his words, had become one of his greatest comforts over the months. Everything would be alright with Hob there. 

“Hob,” he managed to whisper, and when his friend only pulled him in closer he said it again and again, until hands were running up and down his back, through his hair, and Hob was pressing a kiss to his forehead. 

“I’m here, my friend. I’m here.” 

Only then did Morpheus finally feel secure enough in his breathing to move away, to look at Hob, and notice that his hand was bloody, his knuckles a deep shade of purple. 

“You’re hurt.” He frowned, cradling the hand carefully in his and turning it around for inspection. 

Hob shrugged, jostling it, and winced. 

“You should see the other guy.” A terrible response, and Morpheus made sure his facial expression told Hob so. 

“Don’t hurt yourself on my account.”

“He deserved it for being a little bitch.” Morpheus looked at his friend disapprovingly, and only received a kiss to his cheek in response, which must be wet and salty from tears. Not that Hob seemed to care about it. “I had to show him that someone does care about you, alright? That we won’t stand for homophobic bullshit, on or off the pitch.”

It shouldn’t have made warmth grow in Morpheus’ chest to hear Hob would fight to protect him, to prove his care and acceptance of him. But it was the first time someone stood up for him, and he couldn’t help but feel touched by such a display of love. He didn’t feel worth that effort and sacrifice, but couldn’t help craving it anyway. 

Of course, he said none of it. But Morpheus hoped Hob could feel it in the hug he pulled him into. “Idiot.”

His friend hummed and hugged back, not denying it, and Morpheus couldn’t help but giggle into his chest, the adrenaline of the situation coming down on him all at once. 

“Let’s get out of here?” Hob whispered after a while, and Morpheus frowned. 

“But the match isn’t over?”

“Well, I received a red for punching that douchebag, so it is for me.” Morpheus scoffed, and Hob only laughed at him for it. “And while you could totally continue here, we could also go home and finish watching Lord of the Rings.”

“You’re a tempting man, Hob Gadling.” 

A wink, eyebrow waggle and eye-roll later, Hob put his jersey back on and helped Morpheus up to his feet, from where he could make out the rest of the team standing around them. They stood in a half circle, shielding them from the other players, the cameras. Standing to protect them. Well, everyone but Cori, who was wearing Hob’s captain’s armband and standing above the guy that had attacked Morpheus, talking to the referee. The defender really did look worse than Hob, right eye swollen and nose at an awkward angle, most definitely broken. 

There was some satisfaction in seeing him writhe in pain as a medic pressed antiseptics to his face. 

But there was no time to relish it, as their movement was noticed by the team and suddenly Morpheus was enveloped in a group hug, the now familiar feeling of hands clapping his back and grabbing his shoulders grounding him like few other things could. None of the men judged him for who he was, none of them cared, and they proved it by hugging and touching him without fear, in front of everyone. The Riggers had never stood up for him, had never touched him, and had laughed at the idea of offering protection. 

The Fiddlers were nothing like them. They were a family. 

Perhaps he would heal one day, with their help. 

[mommieswithmuscles]

Sub!Abby x Dom!Reader

Free Palestine, don't support Neil

No Minors and No Men

CW: Slight!intox but both reader and Abby are coherent and consenting, loser!Abby, soft!reader, bar scene with mentions of violence, strap use, fingering, oral, not quite edging but it could be read that way, aftercare

Title: May I Take You For A Second Date?

You show up late to the bar your Bumble date suggested after getting lost in the new city. You look over and around the obnoxious crowd before spotting her sat at the counter. You're starstruck. She's even more beautiful in person.

"Two margaritas please." You startle Abby. "Sorry to keep you waiting, pretty girl. Big city." Her cheeks flush before she turns her attention back to the football game on the big screen. "Which team is yours?"

"Neither really. It grabbed my attention because of those guys." She nods to the obnoxious crowd you had to barge through on the way in.

"Why don't I take your attention now, lovely?" She turns to face you as your drinks are placed on the counter. You slide one over to her. "I don't drink much. I'm only going to have this," you take a long sip of your drink.

"Me neither. A bar seemed good in theory, but I've honestly only been on a few dates." You watch her throat swallow her drink nervously. Seems she needs the liquid courage.

"Why don't I take you out for a meal?" It's past 11 pm, no restaurants will be open.

"I could be down for that if tonight goes well." That sweet blush hasn't left her face. You smile as your hand slides down her forearm and settles on her bicep.

"Your muscles are bigger in person." You admire the black button up hugging her. The buttons are stretched to their last threads.

"You're more flirty in person. I'm not really used to this amount of attention."

"Expect a lot more." You both look over to the crowd of people once the game ends. You both only know because a few of the guys who have clearly had too much to drink start at it. You pat Abby's thigh, signalling her to stand and leave with you before you're both caught in the sloshed cross fire.

"I walked. Do you want to come back to mine?" You look at her fidgeting hands, closing your fingers around them.

"It's chilly tonight, and I don't live that far. I'll take you to mine. We can go to yours next time." You kiss her knuckles before leading her over to your truck. "How much did you drink before I got here?" You open the door for her, holding your hand out so she can hoist herself in.

"I didn't. I actually showed up late myself." You hand her the lap piece of the belt before asking her if her legs were clear of the door. Once safe, you close it.

You hop in your side, start up the engine, then put the heater on a low stream of air. Your hand rests on the stick. "Normally I would offer to hold your thigh, but as you can see, that wouldn't really be possible tonight. Can I pick you up in my Mercedes next time?" Her eyes widen.

"I- Yeah, you- Mhm- I don't mind, really." She shifts in her seat as you back out of the parking space and drive home.

-

She takes note of your Ring doorbell, and the clack of something on the assuming hard wood floors as your key struggles in the lock. Once you enter, you're greeted by your pitbull. She has white fur with some tan spots, and a bright pink nose. "Abby, this is Candy. Candy, introduce yourself." A single bark is heard, followed by her big teethy, drooly smile. Abby follows you in after Candy stays sat.

"She's very well trained." Candy leaves her spot once the door is locked.

"She can see me on this," you pointed at the camera feed screen on her inside of the door. "If I'm not coming to the door, she will attack."

"You saying this is my only chance to impress you?" Abby's feet shuffle out of her boots after you kick off your shoes on the mat against the wall.

"No. You commented on her training, I gave you more details about it." You take her hand in yours as you bring her towards your kitchen. "When was the last time you ate? And would you like anything to drink? I've got orange juice, Sprite, Baja Blast, water, and pomegranate cherry juice."

Her nerves start to settle a bit. You watch her physically relax a bit, shoulders not so tense and relieving some of her buttons. Her jeans also look more comfortable. "Are you pregaming my sex energy?" She laughs nervously, some of the tension coming back.

"I'm being a host, sweetheart. We've only been talking for a couple months. I won't press or rush anything you don't want. I may guide, but you're always allowed to decline. If at any point you decide you want to go home, I will pay for your ride so you don't feel stranded here or with me." You watch Candy come up to Abby and sit on the pillow next to her stool.

You pull a bag of sausage you cooked this morning from the fridge and put it in her bowl. Candy waits for you to stand straight again before eating. "Is it too early to say you're the best date I've ever had?"

"Is it reassuring to say you're the first date I've had the chance to host?" A smile creeps up Abby's lips.

"It is, yes." You take Candy's bowl once she taps it twice to signal she's finished eating. You tuck it back in the space on your side of the island counter you got it from.

"Now, can I get you anything before I invite you to my bed?"

-

Nothing's rushed as you both take the time to learn each other on your blood red sheets. The black comforter hides your bodies in the dim lamp light. Lips lightly smacking as each breath is shared.

Each touch is curated with gentle care, and light exploration. You take the time to memorize what caresses and where make her react. Her hands are just as soft, squeezing and holding you as you drive her insane. You haven't touched her breasts nor vagina yet, and she's twitching and quivering like she's on the brink. Her breaths are gasps and short, legs shaking slightly, and fingers tickling you from their sporadic movements.

"May I?" You lift the comforter a bit, hand resting on her chest above her breasts. Abby nods, saying she doesn't mind. You learn her breasts as you did the rest of her. Her own hands travel up your ribs before you guide one higher. Hers knead at yours as you slowly move to hover over her, making sure she has ample time to stop you.

She doesn't. Abby lets go of your breasts to play with your hair as you dip lower down her body. You look up at her before asking for permission to touch her intimately again. "I like being eaten out," she whispers. You leave a kiss on her navel before kissing each of her thighs.

"If you need to stop, say so. You're in control." You watch her as your face dips into her heat. She smells as good as she tastes. You lap slowly, exploring her with your tongue before diving in. You want her to feel like a girl. Not a fuck, not a one time fling, a woman. You tease Abby's clit with your teeth and she giggles, her hand flying over her mouth. You reach up and take that hand in yours, squeezing over her mid section. "Don't hide your pretty face Abs, let me see you." Her eyes are doey as she looks down at you.

"Can you come up for a moment?" Her thighs are buzzing around your head. You crawl back up her body, hand still clasped with hers.

"What do you need?" Abby kisses you. You kiss her back tenderly.

"Finger me?" Her cheeks are that adorable black cherry red you adore.

"Do you want me to look, or feel?" Your hand slides down her hip, drawing circles in the firm muscle.

"Just feel? I really want to kiss you," she pleads.

"Anything you need baby." You explore her like she's a treasure. Again, you listen for every noise, feel for every twitch. You swallow every gasp and pant. You know you find her spot when her hips buck, and her teeth sink into your lip. You keep the stimulation there, drawing figure eights on her clit.

When Abby cums, your wrist is locked between her thighs and her voice is strained. Gasps fan your lips and chin she comes down. Your lips pepper her neck, leaving kind words against the sweat shined skin. Her hand comes down to bring you out of her so you know you're not being too sudden. "May I?" You bring your fingers to your lips. She nods, rubs her face against the pillow before watching you clean up.

"Are we done?" You leave the choice for Abby.

"Do you want to be?" Her voice is quiet.

"I have one more thing. I don't mind how it goes." You retrieve your strapon from the bathroom. You cleaned it before you left so it would be ready for use. You offer it to her.

"You've taken the lead all night, why not keep it?" Her eyes are wide and her lips pouted.

"Because this is about you tonight, Abby." Her breath shakes as she presses the harness back into your hands.

"Be gentle?"

"I promise." You reassure her. Once buckled and secure, you generously lube the dildo and her hole. She's still open and fluttery when you use two fingers to check her out.

Abby's hand comes down to guide you in. You're slow, only moving when she moves you. You feel her adjust and how she uses her palms to keep your hips where she needs them. Her nails dig into your ass as she gets accustomed to the new full feeling.

When you bottom out her legs come to wrap around you. Her ankles lock on your upper thighs as you stay still. Your lips travel along her face. Each freckle is met with a sweet kiss. The feeling of your lips makes her nose scrunch. You smile against her salty skin.

She starts by rolling her hips. Abby takes her time to get you moving before letting you have control again. You stay the way she set. You don't want to overwhelm or overstimulate her. You want her to feel good.

Her moans are for your ears only as your head tucks into her cheek. Her arms grasp your shoulders as your nose embraces hers. When you look into her cerulean eyes, the energy changes. That feeling when you find a missing disk to an empty case, or remembering an old song you would play in every car ride. Her lips against yours feel like lighting a sparkler.

She cums on the strap. You slow down to help her ride it out. "Did you feel good princess?" You push the fly aways away from her face.

"I did," she nods. You wait for her to guide you out before dashing to the bathroom.

You ditch the toy in the bathtub, running warm water in the sink to dampen a washcloth. You return to Abby timely, cleaning her with care. You make sure all the slick is removed from her curls before moving onto her thighs. "You're welcome to shower if you want one," you offer.

"Can we in the morning? Want to sleep with you." Her voice is edging on the whininess of tired. You toss the rag in the hamper, cuddling into her embrace.

You grab the remote from your bedside table, clicking the power on to the dog door in your bedroom.

-

Sometime during the night Candy climbed into bed with you. You wake up to her boxy head on your duvet covered hip, and Abby's large hand resting on her side.

[pandorasprongs]

PROLOGUE | hold on to the memories.

'it's nice to have a friend' fic masterlist + playlist

PAIRING: jamie tartt x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 5.0k

SUMMARY: stories of jamie and reader's friendship over the years, from age 7 to 17.

WARNINGS: language, slight body image/appearance issues, slight panic attack, vague descriptions of sex

A/N: yay! finally starting this fic with sort of an overview/background on their relationship, but there will be more flashbacks throughout the chapters. no gif for this one cause tbh i could not find one that fits the vibes here, but regardless hope you all enjoy the prologue!

Age 7

"You mind handing that back over?" You hear a voice coming from the other side of the fence as you pick up a loose football.

You turn to find a boy around your age in a football kit. His hair was completely waxed to one side, probably to keep it from covering his eyes while playing. You recognize his uniform as your school's football team's, though you're not sure if you've seen him before. Then again, you didn't know anyone in town yet. You had just moved to Manchester a few months ago, just as the school year started and while you had a few people to talk to in class, you didn't have any solid friends really.

You toss the ball back to the boy, who catches it swiftly. You think that's the end of it, so you start heading back to your house when he calls out to you again.

"Hey! What's your name?" You answer him, with him nodding in acknowledgment. "I think I've seen you around the school. I'm Jamie."

He reaches over the fence and extends his arm for you to shake it, despite the fact that you were already at your front door. You walk back and shake it, as he asks, "Do you wanna play football? I got a game tomorrow, but Mum's too busy to play goalie."

You had hoped your look of glasses, multiple layers of clothes, and generally un-sporty demeanor was enough to dissuade offers to play, but this Jamie didn't really seem to care.

"Maybe another time," You reply, but this boy is persistent.

"Okay, do you wanna watch me score goals?" He offers before glancing at the book tucked under your arm and pointing at it. "You can read while I play."

Once you realize that he wasn't going to quit, you finally agree. You head back inside to tell your mom that you'd be playing with your neighbor for the afternoon and since you already finished your homework, she was more than willing to let you go. She always said you needed some fresh air, which was why you were outside in the first place.

You walk back to your yard to find Jamie still standing where you left him, but this time he was practicing his dribbling. He was pretty good from what you knew about football, and walk over to his side of the fence. He stops when he sees you and starts leading you to his backyard. There was a goal net in the far back and some cones set up, probably to practice maneuvering the ball better. 

Jamie turns to see if you're still following him and drags you to a small table with two chairs near the door to the house. "You can stay here and count my goals," he instructs you and you nod your head in understanding.

While Jamie kicked around the football, you continued reading your book, occasionally looking up at what the boy was doing. It was easy to keep track of the score since Jamie would be cheering like he just won the Premier League when he scored. 

After getting bored of reading, you decide to ask Jamie to teach you how to play. You see his eyes light up and immediately drags you up from your seat. The first thing he teaches you is how to dribble the ball. He held your hands the whole time to stop you from falling over, but that only seems to make it harder for you to move around.

Once you finally got the hang of that, — meaning you no longer tripped over your own feet — the next few hours were then spent teaching you the other basics of football like passing and shooting. You only started to get decent at shooting when you realized that the sun was already setting.

"I think I have to go home now," You tell Jamie, whose expression suddenly fell at your statement. You go and grab your book from the table and wave at the boy. "It was nice playing with you!"

If he said anything in reply, you didn't hear it because you sprinted back around the fence and into your house. You take off your shoes, relieving the ache of kicking around the ball, and go to tell your parents everything you did that day.

—

The next time you see Jamie was Friday morning. He spotted you leaving your house for school and invited you to his team's football game that afternoon. "You just have to stay in school a little later. My mum said your mum might get worried, so she told me to tell you now so you can ask her."

You run back inside to do just that and after informing her that the other parents would be chaperoning the game, she agreed. You also take the chance to get your scarf and gloves because you hadn't realized how cold it was outside. She went out with you to tell Jamie the good news.

"Thank you, Ma'am," he replied, causing your mom to let out a chuckle at how polite the boy became. She finally sends you off to school and Jamie decides to walk with you too.

—

You couldn't help but be amazed at how well Jamie was playing. You knew that he was at least decent based on how well he taught you that day, but he was practically scoring all the goals for his team. None of the opposing players could even catch up to him, at times. You wonder how he kept his energy up despite the fact that it was freezing outside and he was only in shorts.

After the game, his team got hot chocolate to celebrate their win. You go to congratulate him, but find it hard due to the number of people surrounding them. Jamie was looking for you too, so the moment he spots you trying to make your way through the crowd, he heads to you instead and pulls you aside.

"Did you like the game?" was the first thing he says to you.

You immediately nod, "Yeah, it was really fun to watch! Congrats on winning."

Jamie shrugs, "Thanks, but it's really nothing, we've been on a streak for a while." You don't know if he's just being humble or bragging about his team, but either way, you're happy they're doing well.

Afterward, Jamie decides to bring you to meet his mom. She's quick to embrace you and mentions that Jamie's been talking about you non-stop, much to the boy's embarrassment. She hands you a hot chocolate of your own and you're grateful to be able to warm your hands. You lost one of the pair around lunchtime, so you've been keeping your hands in your jacket pocket the whole day.

While Jamie goes to change, you stay with Georgie as you savor your drink. She notices the lack of cover on your right hand and gives you an extra pair that she kept in her bag. It's clearly too big for you and its orange color clashes with the blue and white on your left hand but you're grateful regardless.

Soon after, Jamie's rushing out of the locker room looking cozy in a sweatshirt under his winter jacket. He's wearing gloves as well and when he notices your mismatched gloves, he takes one of his off and switches them with the orange one. 

They're a much better fit and you thank Jamie for it. The boy adds, "My hands are bigger, so they won't slip off as easily." 

"Come on, let's go home!" He adds, grabbing one of your hands with his left and his mom's with his right as you walk off the pitch.

After coming home, your mom notices your new glove and decides to bring some cookies for the neighbors as a thank you. That started a months-long gift exchange between the two moms for reasons ranging from watching over their kids on weekdays to lending their kids a pencil for a standardized test. 

You didn't really mind it though, because it usually meant you'd get to hang out with Jamie longer. You spent countless weekends riding your bikes around town, playing football, and even camping in your backyards. The boy who threw that ball over your fence was quickly becoming your best friend.

—

Age 15

“Aww, my little girl is so grown up, now!” Your mom exclaims as she opens the door to see you in a pink knee-length sundress. You don’t know why she’s so shocked you’re wearing it considering that she was the one who bought it for you. “Hmm, but do you think you need a necklace?”

“Mom!” You whine and she immediately backs off. It’s not like you minded the suggestion, but you had your own issues to deal with and didn’t need your parents to get involved.

When you said yes to Tim asking you on a date, you knew you’d be both excited and nervous. But you didn’t realize how insecure it would make you. Your parents say all the time that it’s normal for kids your age — being insecure about your looks and body, — but that advice never seemed to help. As your mom leaves the room, you turn back to the mirror and sigh. Something was just off. The dress was pretty, the shoes matched, and your mom did great with your hair, but even then, you still aren’t satisfied.

You weren’t as experienced with make-up and fashion as the other girls in your school and you had long since accepted that. You just didn’t realize it would backfire on you in times like these. You sigh sharply again. If Tim really liked you, it wouldn’t matter that much right? You add the necklace your mom was suggesting before heading downstairs.

After a string of ‘oohs’ and ‘awws’ from your parents, you start heading to the restaurant. Most popular restaurants among your schoolmates were walkable and you didn’t want an even more awkward introduction with your parents there, going there by yourself was the best plan. You had gotten there early, so you settled on the bench outside the restaurant to wait for your date.

Maybe around the first half hour, you should’ve suspected something was off. But you stayed for another hour in case Tim actually showed up. God, you shouldn’t have believed he was sincere. Why would someone ask you out? You always kept to yourself in class, spent most of your time studying, and never even tried to go to parties or anything.

You check your phone again because some hopeful part of you thought he’d text you with a valid excuse, but all you see are some messages from classmates asking for notes and a missed call from your mum. You were not ready to face your parents right now, not after the hopeful looks on their faces that their daughter might be sociable for a night.

Instead, you call the only other person you can. Jamie makes it to the place in record time and the first thing you do is hug him. The moment you make contact with his body is the moment you let the tears flow from your face. It didn’t really matter at that point if people were staring: you just needed someone. You needed Jamie.

“I’m gonna murder that prick,” Jamie threatens as he reciprocates the hug.

“Please don’t,” you whisper into his chest. “I can’t have you going to jail right now.” Despite trying your best to say it jokingly, your voice is too hoarse to properly convey it.

After what felt like hours in that position, you finally let go. You soon realize that your streaming tears had stained Jamie’s shirt. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

The boy looks down and just shrugs. “It was getting too small for me, anyway.” That’s enough to put a smile on your face.

The two of you get into the car – Georgie’s car, since technically, Jamie only had a provisional license – and start driving back to your house. Maybe it was your wrecked emotional state, but you decided to outright ask, “Jamie, do you find me attractive?”

You gasp as Jamie almost crashes the car. You quickly clarify as he steadies the vehicle, “Fuck, I didn’t mean it like that! It’s just, I don’t really know how I look to guys.”

“Right, sorry.” He says but doesn’t look away from the road. “I mean, you are pretty. As long as you don’t let it get to your head.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, fuck off Jamie, I’m not you.” You could list the number of times Jamie’s flashed that cocky smirk to girls at school during breaks. Those were some of the very few times you were embarrassed to be seen with him and you laugh at the reminder. But your smile quickly disappears when you look down at your outfit. “Do you think other guys think I’m pretty?”

Your voice is as soft as it’s ever been, not wanting to show how insecure you’re feeling at the moment. But Jamie can tell like he always does. You turn the corner to your house and he stops the car in the road and fully turns to you.

“Fuck those other guys. Fine, if you need someone to say it, I will. You are fucking gorgeous, especially tonight.” You cringe at his words, not used to having anyone say that about you, but he gets you to look at him again. “I’m serious. And Tim’s a fucking idiot for ditching you.”

Despite his harsh tone, the soft look in his eyes as he tries to comfort you almost makes you tear up again. As if it’s become a routine, you reach over and envelop him in a hug once more. To make up for the failed date, the two of you spend the rest of the night eating a tub of Neopolitan ice cream and soon enough, you forget that Tim even existed.

—

Age 17

Your teachers always said you were a good writer. But no one ever told you how fucking difficult it was to start your personal statement. You'd never realized how hard it is to prove you should go to university until you forced yourself to sit down and actually try and write something. You started with the outline route, trying to note all your academic achievements, extracurriculars, and things like that before you ended up boring yourself.

You've written 9 possible starting lines at this point, and in the end, you decide to just shut your laptop in despair. Try again tomorrow, you said to yourself. The same thing you said yesterday and the day before that. 

You go to lie down on your bed when you hear something hit your window. It's a light clinking sound, and you ignore it till you hear another one. You finally decide to check outside your window and hear shouting from above.

"God?" you ask hesitantly.

"Nope, just me," you look up to find Jamie Tartt sitting on his rooftop, almost giving you a heart attack.

"Get down from there!" You tell him immediately and instantly cringe at how similar your tone is to your mom’s. Jamie rolls his eyes at the order but obliges anyway. He starts going down the roof into his bedroom — carrying an empty bottle of beer in his left hand — and makes it through his window.  Once he's safe with his feet on the floor, he turns around to face you in your adjacent bedroom.

"Why'd you even go up there?" you question and Jamie, like always, simply shrugs.

"Felt like it," you shake your head at his reasoning. You knew your best friend could be reckless, but you didn't think he'd do something as stupid as that, especially before scouting season.

"So falling off and breaking your legs wasn’t something you thought could possibly happen?"

"Well, that’s why I have you to warn me," He exclaims, before going back to the conversation. "I'm coming over."

Both your sets of parents were out for the night and they'd known each other long enough to trust each other's kids enough, so neither of you needed to message them about it. You watch him sprint out of his room and after a few minutes, you here the doorbell ring.

You head downstairs and open the door to find a panting Jamie leaning on the frame. "3 minutes, new record time."

"Well, they do say I'm one in a million." He jokes as you let him inside and he takes off his shoes.

"Who's they, in this situation?"

"Mum." He says blankly, collapsing on the couch. "And Simon."

You laugh, before lifting his legs and shuffling on the opposite side of the couch. You rest them on your lap for a second, before a wave of stench from his feet hits you and you shove them off. Jamie goes back to sitting upright and he instead leans his head on your shoulder.

You turn on the TV and start browsing for a movie as your entertainment for the night. Most weekends were like this; hanging out in one of your houses, ordering pizza — which Jamie did as you looked through channels, — and relaxing on the couch.

The order was placed and you settled on the Hunger Games this time. You watched the first part of the movie in silence as usual, but once the pizza arrived, Jamie decided to change things up.

"Wanna play 20 questions?" You look at him curiously. You knew practically everything about each other, so why on Earth would you play a game that's every person's go-to icebreaker?

You don't have a chance to protest because after taking a bite of the pizza, he asks, "What were you doing before I got here?"

Your eyes widened at that. Maybe the one thing you never really talked about with Jamie was your future. Neither one of you would admit it, but there wasn't any chance that you two were going to be doing the same things in your career. You had academia and Jamie had football. It's hard to imagine something that kept the two of you together and also made both of you happy, so you never brought it up.

"Uh, I was having a wank," you joke but Jamie isn't amused. He continues to stare at you with an expression that you rarely ever saw; he was being serious. "I was trying to write my personal statement."

 You look cautiously at your best friend who is quiet for the first time tonight. He takes a bite of his pizza again and with a full mouth, says, "And? How's it going?"

You groan and lean your head back. "Fucking terrible. I can't think of anything to say about myself."

"The fuck do you mean? You're like the smartest person I know." He points out and while you're touched he thinks that, you sigh.

"Unis don't just look at grades anymore. They want substance and worldly impact from their applicants. How the fuck am I supposed to change our societal landscape at fucking seventeen?" You admit, and it's like a weight has been lifted off of you. You drop your plate of pizza on the table and lean into Jamie's side.

"You want me to write it for you? I've got a bunch of great things to say about my best friend." He offers and you finally let out a laugh. "I can put how fucking amazing you are at Scrabble, how you can predict the ending of a movie in the first 20 minutes, how loud your voice can get when you cheer me on at a football game, and how you can hear a song once and already figure out how to play it on the piano."

You look up to find Jamie giving you a wide smile and his happiness is contagious. But that feeling is almost instantly replaced when you remember the position you two are in and feel your heart beating faster.

You don't ignore the fact that Jamie has grown up a lot more in recent years: finally passing you in height, having more defined arm muscles, and definitely growing into his features. It's harder to feel normal when you do the things you did as kids like when he rests his head or arms on your shoulders, pulls you into his chest to stop you from walking in front of a passing car, or just like right now when you're leaning into him, his arm pulls you closer to his body.

You slowly pull yourself away, but then he grabs hold of your hand instead. You've held hands before, but again, there's just something different about now. You decide to leave it there before finally replying, "I'm sure with that kind of stories in it, they'll let me into fucking Oxford." The two of you laugh before you grab your plate of pizza again and turn to back to the movie.

—

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” You hear someone say, as you turn the corner to your school’s locker room.

It was normal to hear the players get nervous before the finals, but hearing Jamie Tartt panicking was a whole new thing for most of your classmates. Some league teams had sent scouts for the striker in this game and while everyone knew he’d do great, it seemed like the school’s support still wasn’t enough to convince him of that.

When his teammates couldn’t snap him out of it, their Plan B was to call you.

“Sorry, I’m looking for my best friend, Jamie Tartt. Brown hair, blue eyes, kind of conceited, but pretty nice if you get to know him.” You start out jokingly, but when his panicked eyes landed on yours, you quickly shift gears. “Shit, sorry. Not the time for jokes, I guess.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m off my game right now,” He starts, still trying to catch his breath as he moves around frantically. You take his hands into yours in order to steady him, but when that doesn’t work, you grab him by his shoulders.

Usually, Jamie would be towering over you, but with his slumped posture at the moment, you were almost eye-to-eye with the guy. “Jamie, take a deep breath. Focus on me, okay?”

You’ve gone through this enough times — usually with you in Jamie’s place — to know how to calm him down.

He follows your directions and you slowly nod your head. “Keep breathing, just do that for now.” Jamie closes his eyes and slowly starts to steady himself. Your hands move from his shoulders to his hands like you initially planned.

“I know it’s fucking terrifying, but believe me when I say that you are incredible. You know how you always tell me that I’ll smash it as Model UN conferences? This time, I’m the one telling you you’re gonna be the best fucking player out there.” You pause for a moment in case he reacts, but all Jamie does is nod his head. “I believe in you. Georgie and Simon believe in you. Hell, this entire school fucking believes in you. I swear, I saw people planning a chant for you outside.”

That gets the player to laugh and you smile, seeing a glimpse of his usual self. “Also, I know I’m complimenting you right now, but better savor it cause I’m never inflating your ego like this ever again.”

“Not even when I help Man City get another win in my first year?” Jamie finally speaks up.

“I’ll be complimenting Pep, not you.” You playfully roll your eyes. “But to be able to do that, you have to get out and play today.”

Jamie straightens up and starts shaking away the nerves. He turns to head to his team, but not before giving you a quick hug and a ‘thank you.’ Once he enters the locker room again, you start heading back to your seat.

—

Age 18

"Do you really want to do this?" Jamie asks carefully, but you've already made up your mind as you pull him closer.

You were going off to university in a few months and Jamie would be doing his summer training soon. Both his and your parents were out of town on a couple's retreat, so it was either now or never.

You knew that going off for college would increase the chances of your first time being with a random guy you met at a frat party infinitely, so you could say it was a calculated decision to jokingly ask Jamie when you talked about it if he'd be willing to sleep with you.

You didn't really expect anything and for the first few seconds, Jamie was too in shock to actually reply. You immediately tried to dismiss it as a joke, but before you could, he replied, "Sure."

You knew that Jamie had already had sex with girls before, — hearing him try and sneak the girls out of his bedroom window was always a fun story to bring up the next day — so you thought that it would just be another one for him.

But that night was the most delicate you've ever seen him. He didn't rush you or make you feel uncomfortable. He checked up on you constantly, making sure it didn't hurt and you were actually enjoying yourself. You made sure to hug him after, — not being able to say any words of gratitude out loud, — and you eventually went to sleep like that.

You woke up the morning after, still with him beside you, but after you got changed and he went back to his house, neither of you brought it up again. You went back to your old routine of hanging out in the afternoons and movie nights as if nothing even happened.

And it really was for the best, considering that the next time you had sex really was in a frat house’s bathroom.

—

Now, you were loading the last of your things into your car for your family road trip to Cardiff, which was to also move you into your dorm. Your mom was recounting the boxes, making sure you didn't forget anything because in her words, "We are not driving 3 and half hours twice just to bring you your toothbrush." Your dad was in the kitchen fixing up snacks for the trip, so you decide to take this chance and finally say goodbye to your best friend.

You barely saw Jamie in the weeks leading up to this since he spent most of his time at training. Even on weekends, he would be passed out in his room from the painstaking drills of the days prior. So as you knock on their door, you aren't very hopeful.

It reveals Simon who instantly pouts and brings you in for a hug. You always appreciated him for how he accepted Jamie into his life, despite the latter's fears that he'd be just like his father.

"Come inside," He offers, but you shake your head. You had to leave soon and you didn't want to delay the trip any longer. “Alright, but I was actually baking some muffins that you guys can take on your drive there, and you can’t say no to those.”

You laugh as you nod, before asking, "Is Georgie home?" 

Simon calls out to his wife to tell her that you're about to leave. You soon hear quick footsteps descending the stairs before you are once again enveloped in a hug. 

Simon heads out to presumably pack up those muffins, but you're too distracted by the rising feeling of sadness as you say goodbye to the woman whose practically been your second mother for a decade.

"You stay safe, okay? I know you'll enjoy your life there, but don't make your parents worry too much. Cause then they won't be able to stop talking about you," You laugh at her prediction before giving her one last hug.

Simon races back to you with a brown paper bag which he hands over, along with a pat on the back. You turn around to see if there's any sign of your best friend, but Georgie answers that for you. "He said he might be running late at practice." You feel your heart sink, but do your best to mask it. You wave goodbye to the couple before walking to the car.

You hand your dad the bag of muffins and sigh, "We can go." Your parents exchange a look but oblige nonetheless. You start heading into the car when you hear the call of your name.

You turn to see Jamie, still in his kit — shorts and all, — running towards your house. You decide to meet him halfway and once he's close enough, the football player pulls you into a tight hug, as if he's never letting go.

"Did you really think I'd let you leave without saying goodbye?" He whispered into your shoulder.

"If you're in trouble for leaving practice early, that is not on me." You try and keep it light-hearted, but his laugh only makes the pit in your stomach feel worse.

"Call me, okay? As often as you can. And send me pictures of all the stadiums you're playing in. I don't care if you send ten pictures of Etihad Stadium in a row, just do it. If you ever come to Cardiff, take some time off to see me. And," you try and think of more things to say, but Jamie cups your face in his hands to make you stop.

"I'll see you during the off-season, yeah?" Jamie's look is soft and you can feel the dam stopping your tears about to break.

"Don't you fucking forget me, Jamie." You try and say as angrily as you can, but your voice cracks as Jamie pulls you into another hug.

The two of you finally separate and you head off to your car. You stop yourself from looking back as you get into your seat. 

Jamie doesn't take his eyes off you, though. He watches as your car starts and turns the corner off your street.

A/N: hope you all enjoyed this one! if you couldn't tell, some of these flashbacks were based on the song 'it's nice to have a friend' by taylor swift which is what inspired this whole thing! see you next week for the official first chapter !!

[damiansgoodgirll]

Jey and Jimmy x platonic r where she’s like a little sis to them and she followed them outside the bloodline and when someone (charlotte or dakota you choose) try to attack her backstage they go into protective mode please

the usos x reader (platonic)

tw : reader being attacked behind her back and a little injured reader

i love charlotte so please forgive me for making her the bad guy here

backstabber

starting off in nxt was the step to succeed into the main roster, well, not for everyone was like that but you knew you had potential to achieve that. barely 21 you had been wrestling since you were 18. not that much but you were good, you had talent and people saw that in you.

that’s how you found yourself being recruited by the bloodline right after the match you won in nxt. no one told you that so you were a little surprised but you knew you couldn’t let that opportunity go away so you accepted.

from nxt to raw and smackdown.

the usos were the one who saw the potential in you and they wanted you in the team. roman really didn’t care but he agreed that the bloodline needed a female gaze and he liked the way you fight, the way you were able to speak without fear and how people liked you.

you started getting more matches and one night you won the smackdown female title against charlotte.

oh she was mad.

she couldn’t understand how someone like you, with little to no experience and only 21 could beat her, the queen, the most perfect woman on the roaster. she was beyond pissed and she wanted to get revenge on you but she knew she had to work on a way to hit you when you were at your lowest.

she thought it would be hard but then the usos lost their title and the bloodline fell apart. you were shocked but you always knew you would stick with the twins. they were the reason you were champion now and you couldn’t let that go away.

you stayed with the twins and they showed you so much gratitude for sticking with them, knowing their whole family turned their back on them.

you were now a trio. the twins and you and even if the feud kept going on you still retain your title. you fought against so many big names you always admired and couldn’t be happier.

in reality everyone loved you. rhea ripley was a menace in the ring but she turned out to be one of your best friends. becky loved you, she always said how your happiness could light up her days. bailey took you under her protective wing. she trained you and even if you fought her a couple of times she was beyond proud of what you were achieving. you even tried to talk with charlotte but she would simply ignore you.

so while you were waiting for the twins to finish their gym session so you could train together you felt something or more like someone hitting your back from behind.

there were no cameras, no shows going on. it was just a simple day backstage where everyone was working for the upcoming show.

you dropped your phone on the ground and you let out a loud and pitched scream. you’ve never felt so much pain in your life. you knew something was wrong, your back was in so much pain you fell and couldn’t even stand and breathe properly.

jey and jimmy heard the scream. and they knew it was you.

they left the gym and ran into your direction.

they saw you you laid on the ground with charlotte hovering over you. she kept kicking you and giving you punches you thought you were going to die. there was blood coming out your nose and head. your legs where both shaking from pain and you knew your left shoulder was dislocated.

as jimmy went to remove charlotte from your body, jey got down at your height and saw your bruised body.

“that was my title you fucking bitch!” charlotte kept screaming as jimmy and some security tried to keep charlotte away from you.

you didn’t even care about what she was saying. you were in too much pain and all you wanted to do was sleep the day off.

“hey y/n…can you hear me? can you talk to me please?” jey softly asked you.

“can’t…breathe…” you whispered.

he knew it was serious when he heard your voice. you were struggling to breathe and he had no idea of what to do.

“i’m gonna lift you in my arms okay?” he said and you nodded, he also motioned someone to call an ambulance “one…two…three” he picked you up and tried to be as gentle as possible but you let out a small scream that broke his heart.

“shh…we’re getting you help” he said as he moved away from the backstage.

charlotte was taken under custody and jimmy joined his brother.

“shit where the fuck is the ambulance!” jimmy almost shouted.

you were in so much pain you had no more tears to cry, all that was left where your sobs and your body shaking and whimpering with you.

“you’re gonna be okay sweetheart…” jimmy said while trying to clean the blood off your face.

they were beyond mad and wanted charlotte to pay for what she did but right now their first priority were you.

they got inside with you in the ambulance and both of them held your hands, whispering soft words.

you knew you were in good hands so you let yourself fall asleep. that made everyone alert. you were losing too much blood and you fell unconscious.

once at the hospital you were treaded with the utmost care and respect and only after a few hours but what felt an eternity for the twins the doctor managed to patch you up.

you had a dislocated shoulder, a few broken ribs, a concussion and a lower back pain. you got lucky charlotte didn’t hit you higher otherwise you could have remain paralysed.

“so that means…” you whispered. the twins both in the room with you.

“no wrestling for at least three months, you need to recover and get back in shape” the doctor said. you felt your heart breaking into million pieces.

“but - but what about the title…and summerslam and…” you whispered.

“hey hey don’t think about those things right now…you need to recover and recovering needs time” jey said holding your hand “you need to focus on yourself…not on wrestling”

“but…” you tried to speak but jimmy stopped you.

“jey’s right…you need time for yourself and we’re always gonna be here for you, always”

“thanks…” you whispered.

“now my dear you need to rest…we’re gonna be outside while we exchange a few words with the doctor…” jey said, kissing your hand and then your head.

you waited for them to exit the room before you let yourself cry, all the tears from what happened before. your dream falling into pieces and knowing you couldn’t do anything about it made you even angrier, but eventually all the crying tired you out and you quickly fell asleep.

jey and jimmy were talking with the boss, telling them exactly what happened and that some people saw the scene too. they wanted charlotte’s career to go into oblivion and they were ready to fight for it.

[maxsimagination]

𝗺𝘆 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗼𝗻 - 𝘀.𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗹𝗲𝘆

summary: steph is the only person that can quell a panic attack on the field.

-> katie and caitlin are together in this, yes i know that katie’s corner goal wasn’t v aus but, we ball

𖦹 masterlist

"𝗛𝗨𝗥𝗥𝗬 𝗨𝗣 𝗬𝗡, we're going to be late" katie called out to me. we had decided to walk to training, unsurprisingly this was katie's idea. i was a slow walker and katie had too much energy for 7:00 on a saturday morning.

"katie. i am not going any faster and this was your idea." i huffed towards the spritely katie and continued with my pace.

we finally make it to the camp and i'm dragged into the meeting room by, guess who, katie. we made it on time and the coach, vera pauw, starts her pre match day speech. we play an international friendly against australia tomorrow.

it took what felt like an hour for vera to finish but we all traipsed out onto the pitch afterwards and started our training.

me and katie were practicing our goal scoring, taking turns with our goalkeeper to shoot. but when i heard my name shouted out from the side of the pitch and turned to see vera, my stomach dropped. she had never been a big fan of me, and i'd never liked her way of coaching the team, but we kept it civil for the game.

i jogged over to her, "you want to talk to me?" "yes. i don't like the way you're scoring goals. you need to work harder." and with that she walked off.

i was left standing in the sidelines where she once was with a shocked expression and confusion coursing through me.

"how do you not like how i'm scoring goals? i thought that was the whole point of the game." i mutter to myself as i walked back to katie.

"what did she want?"

katie shared my disagreement with how vera worked, and often found herself telling her how to manage her own team. "wanted me to work harder." i grumbled out. katie just scoffed and assured me i was doing my best. we continued with practice and i was glad when it ended.

——

it was game day and in some ways, i was glad.

since it was australia we were playing, i got to see caitlin, kyra and my favourite, steph. we were all at arsenal together, along with katie, who hadn't shut up about getting to see caitlin again.

about an hour out from the game and we were in the changing rooms in our training shirts.

vera had put me in the starting lineup, which was surprising since she didn't like me. but i wasn't complaining about it and ran out onto the field with the rest of my teammates. we did our pre match warmup on our side of the field, and the aussies did theirs on the other. i was keeping an eye out for steph whenever i could, she was the only good thing about this match.

katie kept teasing me when che caught me staring, saying i should ask her out already.

"katie! i don't even know if she likes girls."

katie simply cocked an eyebrow at me and left it at that.

soon it was time for kickoff. i walked out behind katie, our captain, holding one of the young mascot's hands. once the game was underway i relaxed more. football was my passion and i enjoyed it too much to let people like vera ruin it for me. 

at half time it was till nil all, but we'd had a couple of shots at goal. i was confident we could at least get one point in this match. that confidence faded when vera pulled me to the side while the other girls walked into the changing rooms.

"i need to you to work harder. we have barely had the ball, and as a midfielder, your job is to get the ball back." she had a condescending tone and her stare was like ice. i just mumbled an ok before walking off to join the girls.

when we got back onto the pitch after half time, i turned out to be right. we'd managed to get a corner kick when the ball was kicked out from my feet in a foul slide tackle. katie took the shot, and in a miraculous fashion, she scored a goal straight from the kick.

everyone on our team was shocked and ecstatic while i ran up to her and jumped on her back. but our happiness didn't last for long when caitlin had the ball, passing it to sam kerr and she got a foot to it, scoring their first goal to equal the score.

by the end of the game, the aussies had one up on us, steph scored a goal right on the 90 minute mark. i was tired and my legs were aching, i'd been running after the ball for the whole game and still hadn't been given a rest. katie knew, she could see the fatigue in some of the other players too.

vera refused to swap anyone out, at least not yet, even after katie had all but begged her to sub some fresh legs on so we still had a fighting chance.

unfortunately, she didn't listen, and we were all forced to play on. i knew that was a critical mistake on vera's part because we were all trying our best with what we had left after 80 minutes. after the loss i lay on the pitch, eyes closed and hands over my face. i could still hear vera's voice from half time, telling me i wasn't good enough and i had to work harder.

my breathing picked up and my throat started to get smaller and it became harder to get air. the tears already formed in my eyes spilled over and ran down my cheeks.

i knew i was having a panic attack, i was prone to those if i overthought things. katie came up to me then, she had the most impeccable timing, and noticed the state i was in.

"shit, shit, shit. i'm gonna get steph."

she jogged away again and went to grab our arsenal teammate. neither me nor steph had admitted any feeling towards the other but we acted like an old married couple and she was the only person that had successfully been able to calm me down from a panic attack.

said woman appeared within seconds, kneeling next to me and grabbing my hands.

"yn, it's okay. listen to me. look at me, yn" i flick my eyes to her face. "tell me five things you can hear."

"t-the crowd, you, my heart beat, uh, i don't know." i mumble the last bit.

"good, that's good. four things you can see?"

"the sky, you, the grass and katie kissing caitlin." the last bit brings a tiny smile to my face.

"well done. three things you can smell?" she chuckles and asks me the next one.

"sweat, uh, the grass? and, uh, a little bit of your perfume."

"good, good. two things you can taste?"

"my tears and blood from my lip i was chewing."

"and one thing you can feel?"

"your hands."

my heart beat had calm down and my breathing returned to normal. steph pulled me up and into a hug.

"thankyou."

"for what, puddin'? i didn't do much." she smiled at me.

"for being my person."

[k9emote]

Hello everyone , this is Jake/Caede ! You know me as K9emotes :)

I need to address something that has been detrimental to my mental health as of these past few months; the rumors surrounding my community and me.

I often hear from outside sources that people are telling other creators or members that I am a bad, toxic, or a drama causing person. I genuinely do not understand where this came from.

I started posting my art online and making a community to recover from a recent abusive relationship that crushed my state of self. I needed a healthy distraction and socialization so that I wouldn’t recluse and bedrot, as that was my usual response to things going wrong. I posted my art for others to cope and gently recover my mind, and it has been so wonderful meeting people and getting to show others my adoration for art.

but as my community has grown, I have made mistakes. With how unstable I have been lately, I have hurt people. I have assumed things and acted out because of it. I have done things I shouldn’t have, and I take responsibility for that.

The only issues in my community from the top of my mind, I will explain in full for all to see.

1. There was an issue where a user in my server was trying to claim that the term “FP” was BPD exclusive. I do not believe in this for lots of reasons I won’t go too far into, but to make it short; excluding other clusterB disorders from incredibly few medically and socially recognized symptoms hurts the entirety of clusterB and isn’t right. It’s internally ableist and I don’t stand for that. If you disagree, cool!!!! but leave my blog alone please

I grew frustrated as I felt ignored and demonized by this person, and spoke passive aggressively. I was triggered heavily and made bad choices with how I spoke. I was passive aggressive. That is it. I did not threaten, curse, wish harm on, or purposefully upset this person.

I struggled with tone through the conversation, and then banned the member and tried to move on. That is all that happened. I apologized to said person publicly about my behavior, and they were unbanned once educated on the subject. However, a person that this user knew acted out and said extremely hateful things about me and my staff team even after the situation had calmed down and was made up. They commented on me sexually, saying my ADULT STAFF MEMBER was “Jacking me off” by being my friend. I am sixteen years old. I am a child. The person who made that comment is 19, and never apologized. They then went to a friends server and tried to defend themselves and further attack me and my staff. They have done nothing but harass and throw fits, even after the entire situation was resolved and agreed upon.

2. There was a huge outburst of people using number names in my server without being RAMCOA survivors. Number names are closed for people who have gone through number programming. I explain it like a closed culture because for my own safety I’d rather not go into the torture aspects of it !!!! I sent out lots of educational announcements for my server, posted resources, helped correct people politely ect. I tried my very best to remain calm and helpful even while being triggered on the daily around my past childhood torture for almost a week straight. Some members were banned from my community for refusing to be educated or making up excuses on why they should be allowed to use number names while not being a RAMCOA survivor. I am not sorry for banning those people. I am not sorry for being passionate about the voices of survivors. I will not entertain people who refuse to change, and I have left this discussion behind with the strict rule that I will warn and then ban anyone who refuses to be educated.

3. At one point, I posted publicly claiming that the creator @lemondrops-emotes as heavily referencing my art. I fully believed that they were copying me on purpose, as the emojis looked extremely similar in my eyes. I have had my art stolen and posted in horrible corners of the internet. I was terrified and I acted out and accused them of copying me. This was wrong, I apologized, Lemon explained to me that it wasn’t intentional and me and Lemon are now on good terms. That entire situation has been dropped and I know not to call out things publicly when I’m scared now. I have grown in that area and promise to be better.

An entire hate blog was created about me and posted on that incident AFTER Lemon specifically stated that we had made up and it wasn’t anything to throw a fuss over.

I have received threats in my inbox.

I have had random members on discord dm me fake IP addresses to scare me. I have paranoid personality disorder and I am schizo. Both these incidents have made me spiral in terror. My mental health has been torn down from the amount of hate, threats, and rumors I have received for the crime of making mistakes as a teenager.

I am by no means excusing my actions, but my actions have been forgiven by the people I hurt. I owe no apology to anyone else.

Harassing me for mistakes that have been resolved does nothing but harm me. It does not help me grow. It does not help the emoji art community. Please, for the love of god, leave me alone. Stop attacking my close ones. Stop throwing dirt on my name. I am trying my best, and I will continue to grow and become a better person as much as I fucking can.

I want to keep making art, I wanna be a part of this community.

For those of you who have supported me from the beginning and actually taken the time to educate yourself on who I really am instead of taking a random person's word for it; thank you. I love you. I love my community, I love my supporters, and you have no idea how much you have all helped me out of the hell I was in. Thank you so so so so much. I create for you, and you help me get up in the morning. Please spread positivity through the art community and be nice to each other !!!!!! hate doesn’t get anyone anywhere and I do not and never have condoned drama spreading or harassment. I love you all, be safe <3