#and the sudden shifting weight almost injured the people getting it

[thefeistydragon]

Normally I will tip delivery people no matter what, but if the way you're taking shortcuts on the job is endangering disabled people, especially my family, and making their lives harder? Especially if it's directly risking sending them to the hospital? You're not acting in solidarity with us, so I'm not about to act on solidarity with you. I know how hard customer service like that it but it's no excuse to make life hell for people who already have it hard enough.

[creatchie8]

Yellow Soul: Chapter Five

Marmalade

Chapter Summary: With Wabang in your rearview mirror you can finally breathe again.

Pairing: Rhett Abbott/Fem!Reader

Warnings: Minors DNI, ANGST!!, Cheating

Word Count: 3,000ish

A/N: Wow it's like embarrassing updating after not doing so for a while. This chapter is short because I just had to finish that little timeline so I can start on what I am most excited for. This is like the fastest I have ever wrote a chapter. Happy March!

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter - Masterlist

A sharp bang! echoes through the barn and a string of curses follow it. The ringing noise causes you to jump, the wood bench creaking under your sudden shift of weight. Looking up from your phone you see Rhett clutching his hand tightly, his freckled nose wrinkled up as he looks at his injured fist. 

“What happened?” You ask as you get up, boots shuffling through the dirt to get to him. Rhett was reluctant to give his hand to you as you reached for it, shooting him an annoyed look before he let you. 

“Was tryna loosen that bolt right there on the alternator, someone didn’t want that thing comin’ off-'' He gestured to the jumble of parts that sits under your hood, “The bolt finally broke loose and I hit m’hand on the block.” He winced as you looked his hand over, satisfied to find nothing of severe damage. 

“Sorry.” You offer him a sympathetic smile before letting him retract his hand from your grip, “It'll just bruise probably. You can be done, I’m stuck here for another few days so we really don’t have to fix it now.” You explain, grateful for his help but not wanting to take him for granted or overwork him when you knew he had other things planned today. 

“No it's okay. I'm almost done, promise.” He smiles and brushes his hand over the top of your head, careful not to mess up the two french braids you plaited this morning and pecked you on the forehead. Smiling, you chase his lips and steal a kiss before sitting back down on the bench to the side of him. 

Happily, you snuggled tighter into your jacket, warmed by the heat lamp Rhett had set up by you. Even though you had protested because of how ridiculous and frivolous it had seemed, you were secretly thankful he had turned it on. You felt like a little chicken, huddled close and waiting for Rhett to finish. 

Originally, the plan was to have your dad work on your truck. He was the one that came with you when you were a teenager to buy the vehicle, he had helped you fix it before. But this morning when you got in and tried to start it, nothing. Just that awful high pitched whirring sound it made as it tried its best to start. Perry had already gone to work, or else you would have him help you. But, you were thankful that Rhett was helping you instead. He knew the most about vehicles, especially compared to Perry. 

Rhett helped you push your truck into the barn, insisting that having it under the protective cover of wood would help him work better. Conveniently ensuring the two of you were alone while he worked. You wanted to stay with him anyways, you would have felt guilty if he was stuck in the barn by himself. 

The two of you had been texting more. Nothing spectacular or intense, but probably now the same amount normal people text. Asking each other where you were when you left the house, asking how the other one was. The occasional, ‘You up?’ late at night when everyone else was asleep. 

You were leaving to go back to college in a few days, and that's when you would break up with Perry. Over the phone, where you had the power to hang up if he started yelling at you. The guilt was there. It was not like you were this heartless monster of a woman who loved cheating on her boyfriend. The hate you felt inside was immeasurable, something you don't think you will ever be able to shake. 

So many things happened at once, it was like the universe finally telling you what to do after so many years of waiting for a sign. You had not told Rhett of your plan, not explicitly that is. When you did talk about leaving to go back, he got the hint. But were you guys going to get together after you and Perry broke up? That was a whole other complicated… thing. 

The two of you talk about so many things. Family, horses, rodeo, school. But never what was planned to happen after.

Surprisingly, you had a lot in common. Rhett was funny and sweet, affectionate when he could be, and even when there was nothing to talk about the silence was never awkward. He made you laugh with your whole chest, and sometimes it wasn't even on purpose. He had this habit of making little remarks about his surroundings, muttering to himself like you couldn't hear him. 

And you liked him, a lot. 

You were sure no one noticed. You were far too paranoid to leave any hint that something could be going on between the two of you. It was not easy to pretend, but you had been doing it for what seemed like an eternity, so knowing that there was a light at the end of the tunnel made the rest of the week bearable. 

“I can hear you thinking, what is it?” Rhett’s voice snaps you from your thoughts, drawing your eyes from the ground to meet his. He was wiping his dirty hands with a rag, cocking his head to the side as he looked at you. 

“Nothing. Just…” You inhaled and sighed, slowly standing up and stretching your arms above your head, “Just nervous. Lots of stress going back to school.” You muttered, slowly making your way over to Rhett. He had his arms outstretched when you got close enough, pulling you into a tight hug while he kissed the top of your head. 

“It’s gonna be okay.” You pull back and look up at him doubtfully, your lips pulling down in a slight frown, “I don't know how I know, I just do. So trust me.” Rhett insisted, his eyes flicking down to your lips before meeting your eyes again. 

“What? Are you like some fortune teller, hmm?” You tease, planting your hands on his chest, playing with the frayed fibers there.

“Somethin’ like that.” Rhett chuckled, one hand trailing up your back to tug on one of your braids jokingly. With your head tipped back, he took a chance to steal a kiss from you, smiling as you let out a small noise of protest against his lips. 

Letting go of your braid, his hand trailed back down to your waist, slipping his fingers into your back pocket. You deepened the kiss, chasing his warm mouth against the cold air of the barn. His jacket was gripped tightly in your fists, afraid to let him go. A snort escaped his nose, drawing back so just your foreheads were brushing.

“I aint goin’ anywhere.” Rhett whispers against your lips, his eyes half-lidded. 

It was a promise you knew he couldn't keep. Maybe he thought he could keep it, that everything would work itself out. You kept kissing him, spreading your fingers wide over the large expanse of his broad chest as you ignored his words.   

He turned your bodies, now pressing your back into the front of your truck. You felt warmth in your chest, drunk on his scent that surrounded you, the kisses getting messy. You could taste his breath, minty from his gum he spit out earlier. Forcefully, he nudged a leg in between yours, pinning you right where you were. He slipped his tongue inside your mouth as you gasped from where his thigh was.    

Cold hands framed your face, palms on your cheeks and you could smell the metallic-dirty scent of your truck. His thumbs brushed your cheekbones, your heart beating out of your chest. 

Suddenly, you were pushed away. Stumbling away from the truck and from Rhett. You blinked rapidly, dizzy as you tried to figure out what was going on. Your vision cleared up, and your blood ran ice cold. A loud clanging could be heard through your daze. 

Royal was standing in the doorway of the barn, the scenery behind him like a blank wasteland. It was a sharp contrast to his looming, dark figure. He stared at the two of you for what seemed like ages, in slow motion his eyes went between the two of you, expression vacant of any emotion. 

You hadn't even heard the door open, and it seemed like Rhett barely did before shoving you away. Tears welled up in your eyes, stinging while you felt your bottom lip quiver. It was like every emotion crashed into you at once, not letting you process what was going on. 

“A cow died in the west pasture. I’m thinkin’ last night.” Royal started, pulling off a glove to scratch at his brow. Rhett clenched his fists, his back completely turned to you, unable to see his expression. 

Pain blossomed on your ear, your senses coming back to you. Slowly, you lifted your hand to touch where it hurt, finding one of your earrings gone. When pushing you back his hand must've caught on it and pulled it out. You looked at your hand and found no blood, determining that it had just fallen out. Standing still, you looked at the ground, trying to find the glint of metal. 

“Her tongue and legs were all swollen. I’m thinkin’ it could be Blackleg… and in that case we need to move the rest of ‘em.” Royal says as you look for your earring, clenching your jaw at the description he just gave. You were paralyzed in fear. 

“Yeah, lemme just finish up here.” The sound of your hood closing startled you out of trying to be busy, looking at Rhett who paid you no mind. Your brow furrowed, looking back to Royal.

He tipped his head back towards the house, “Let’s get you inside.” Royal states and you nod, turning back to unplug the heat lamp. 

Following Royal out and towards the house, you keep your eyes down. You wait for him to turn around and scold you but he doesn't, just quietly walking to the house. It was like you were in a daze. Just blindly stumbling over the frozen dirt and almost tripping on the wooden stairs up to the house. 

Inside was like a tropical heatwave, prompting you to pull off your jacket. Royal leaves you at the foyer, and you can hear him explaining what he just found to Cecilia. You wait for him to tell her what he saw you doing in the barn, but it never comes. Just about that poor cow, how he suspects a few of them may have it too. Cecilia suggests going to the tractor supply, and that's when you stop listening. 

Wandering into the living room, you let your body go limp on one of the chairs. Tears returned in your eyes. It was too hot here, your sweater was choking you with its high neck. You felt like you were dying, quietly gasping for breath as you lay completely still on the chair. 

Rhett walks in from outside, knocking off his boots at the door. You could see him from where you were sitting, not making a move when he glanced over at you. Your stomach flipped before he walked away towards the voices of his parents and out of your sight. 

Closing your eyes, you swear you black out for a second. The next thing you know Cecilia is gently shaking your shoulder and your eyes fly open, inhaling sharply through your nose.

“I’m sorry you heard that honey. Royal said you looked pretty pale after he took you in, are you okay?” She asks and it's like your response is just words swirling around in your head like soup. She raises her eyebrows, awaiting your response. 

Clearing your throat, you sit up from your slouched position, “Yeah, um.” You rub your eyes, “Just sad, ya know.” You say weakly and Cecilia offers you a sympathetic smile, nodding. 

“He's worried it’s Blackleg. We have had it a few times, so I’m trustin’ his instinct.” She explains, “Could you come with me into town? I called the Tractor Supply while you were sleepin’ and it looks like they have some penicillin available still.” Running your tongue over your teeth you nod. Sleeping? You couldn't have been sleeping. You heard Rhett and Royal leave, you just shut your eyes for a second. 

“Yeah, I just need to go upstairs then I'll be right down.” You start to get up, steadying yourself on the back of the chair. Cecilia followed you close behind but split off when you got to the stairs, continuing to the kitchen. Walking up took all of your strength, still confused and absolutely oblivious to what was going on. It was like you were in some fucked up dream. 

The pain on your ear subsided, now just hot to the touch from the incident. You felt silly with just one earring in, deciding while looking in the floor-length mirror beside Perry’s bed to just take the other out. Hands shaking, you pulled on the back and front simultaneously, grimacing as it wouldn't budge. Dropping your hands, you shook them out before trying again, turning your face away from the mirror to try another angle. 

It finally gave way, the soft scraping of metal and it flew out. The front slipped from between your thumb and pointer, falling to the ground and out of your sight. 

Cursing, you set the metal back on Perry’s dresser, crouching down to look for the stupid earring. On your hands and knees, you searched for the stud. You found nothing but dust bunnies behind his mirror and under the dresser. Turning on your phone light, you looked under the bed. You sighed in relief as you saw the tiniest metal glint on the floor near the middle of the bed. 

Dropping your phone, you laid on your stomach and shimmied a little under the bed, outstretching your arm as far as it could go. The floor creaked under your weight. While you shifted closer, the top of your head bonked something sturdy shoved at the very head of the bed. 

Looking up, you sneezed suddenly, the dust getting to you. Swiftly, you grabbed the stud and slid out from under the bed, grabbing what you hit your head on as well. It was a blue sports bag, something you hadn't seen before. Sitting up, you brushed the dust off and set your earring on the edge of the bed. 

Curiosity took over and you unzipped the duffle bag. There were a few miscellaneous books, random pieces of clothing, and a pair of sneakers. All very common, normal things to be in a bag. You felt silly for even going through it. Cecilia was probably already dressed and waiting for you. 

As you were putting the things back into place you noticed one shoe was heavier than the other. Reaching inside, you felt an object shoved to the very top of the sneaker. You grabbed the sole of the shoe and hit the heel on the ground a few times before the object tumbled out and hit the floor. 

Your hands trembled as you reached for it. All you could hear was blood rushing in your ears as you turned the little black box over in your hands. You knew what it was. It was easy to tell even without opening it. 

Without thinking, you exposed what was inside. 

Against the black fabric lining the inside of the box shone a ring. Its metal glinting just how your earring did when you were looking for it under the bed. You sat there, head empty, staring at it while it glimmered up at you. 

Cecelia called your name, spooking you so you dropped the box. Quickly, you grabbed it from the floor and snapped it shut. Shoving everything back into the bag, you pushed it under the bed. Like a whirlwind, you were out of the room and bounding down the stairs to her. 

-

The living room was dark and quiet, save for the sound of your breath. You had just sent Rhett a text, telling him you were in the living room. Your thumb still hovered over the send arrow, waiting for him to reply back. 

The day went by in a second. While driving to town you replayed everything in your head over and over again. Did Royal see you? He must've, especially Rhett shoving you away from him. Everything changed in a second, just a singular second of stupidity. And you are afraid of what could happen. So afraid of who could know. 

Your family would be disappointed in you, and you couldn't handle that. Gossip spreads like wildfire in a small town, and you were sure to get burned at the stake for your crime of sleeping with your boyfriend’s brother. God, your boyfriend’s brother. What a horrible mistake you've made. 

Before you see the three bubbles pop up you hear the floor creak above your head, signaling that he is coming down. You lock your phone and sit it on the couch cushion beside you. It doesn't take long for you to hear him walking down the steps to where you are. 

Looking up from your hands, you see him rounding the corner to you. Offering him a small smile, you extend a hand in his direction. Rhett grasps it and kneels beside you on the floor, a hand coming up to rest on your naked calf. He stroked the skin there, cocking his head in question as you sat in silence. 

“I found a ring.” You murmured almost silently. 

Rhett rested his chin on your knee, looking up at you through his thick eyelashes, “What do ya mean?”

“I mean-” Your voice cracked, “I found a bag under Perry’s bed and inside was an engagement ring.” His eyes widened and his hand on your shin stilled. “I’m afraid he’ll know I messed with it. After I found it I just threw everything back and didn't fix it.” You all but whined, your voice getting squeaky. 

“Well I don't think he will be anything right now. He would have told me.” Rhett tried to reassure you, his hand wrapping around your ankle. He was chewing on the inside of his cheek now, worrying the skin. 

“I have to go. I can't stay.” You start to run your fingers through his hair, but he jerks back, the hand on your ankle tightening. 

“Go? Go where?” He whispers, bewildered, “It’s the middle of the night.” 

“What did your dad say after he found us in the barn?” You ask, ignoring his question.

“It’s the middle of the night.” Rhett repeats, his tone serious. 

You sigh, exasperated, “I don't want to be here anymore. I don't care that it's the middle of the night, I am scared and I just can’t stay.” Your brow furrowed as you explained, swallowing the lump in your throat. “What did your dad say?’ You repeated.

“Nothing. He said nothing to me.” 

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” 

You exchanged stares, the back of his head illuminated like a halo. 

“Please wait till mornin’ for me. I know you're scared-” But you are already shaking your head ‘no’ before he can finish. Rhett stops himself and gives you a look, his jaw tensing. 

You let go of his hand and rub it down the top of your thigh, “I already have everything packed. I just need to change and get my things.” Rhett opens his mouth to protest but you are already standing up, stepping back from him. His hand falls from your ankle and he is left kneeling on the ground looking up at you. 

Rhett nods and gets up, ignoring the hand you offer to help him up. 

After grabbing your things, you take one last look at Perry before shutting his door for the last time. You felt nothing for him. Maybe because you felt so numb already. But you thought you would tear up a bit, but it was easy to be silent, grab your things, and leave. 

Rhett was waiting for you at the door, taking your bag out to your truck while you changed. It was like you were running on autopilot. No emotions, just wanting to get out. 

Your soul ached as you stepped out of the house and found that Rhett had started your truck for you, letting it warm up before you drove off. It was quiet outside. For once no wind was assaulting your face, no white flakes embedding themselves into your hair. The snow crunched under your boots as you walked over to Rhett. 

It was reminiscent of meeting in the church parking lot. 

He was waiting outside your driver’s door, arms crossed over his extensive chest covered by his Carhart hoodie. The second you got within arm’s reach, Rhett pulled you into a hug, burying his nose into your hair. Your cheek was pressed against the logo, closing your eyes sharply as you hugged him as tight as you could. 

“Be safe for me, hm?” He muttered into your head, the vibrations from his chest tickling your ear. You nodded, planting a kiss to the center. 

Pulling back, you kiss his cold lips. It lacked the fiery passion every other time had. But what it lacked in that was replaced with… sadness? It was weak, soft, and lacked depth. 

Like you were kissing someone lifeless. 

Rhett stepped back and opened the truck door for you, gesturing inside. You stepped forward and the heat hit you in the face. Your bag was already in the passenger seat and you looked back at Rhett. He tipped his head towards the open door as he held it  for you. 

You slid inside and Rhett shut the door for you, walking backwards a few steps as you buckled and put your car into drive. 

Then you drove away. Leaving Rhett behind to stand alone in the cold. 

You watched him in the rearview mirror, arms crossed like they always are. 

It took everything in you to not turn around and beg him to come with. 

See me on AO3 as Creatchie8 too for a full list of tags & more!

[moonsmourning]

@deathfavor: [ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐭𝐡 ] : sender drapes a coat / cape / etc. around receiver's shoulders. (Earl & Bai Yi)

money was how she survived. it was something she thought about far too often, way too worried about tying up loose ends and paying off debts she still finds herself adding to. whitestone industries did every job, no matter how small or too grand. granted, k.k would tell nearly everyone that most of the jobs were for dog walking, plumbing, and on the odd occasion, a decent babysitting job. but that wasn't entirely the truth. some of the jobs were dangerous and gruesome, not the kind of jobs bai yi wanted to subject her precious little k.k to. che, on the other hand, could deal with much worse, but even then bai yi sheltered the boy from a lot. he was a very important person in her life, as was k.k.

and recently, so was zoya. ever since the black ring bai yi was tasked to take the leader of the legion and hide her away, to protect her and nurse her back to health. whoever thought it was a mission fit for someone like bai yi was an idiot, but, so far, she's done well. she managed to keep the woman alive and well for everyone's favourite silver fox to wiggle his way out of the clutches of the mbcc and locate them. ( word got around and reached bai yi's ears, and she disclosed her location to him. )

the money she was receiving for this job was enough to settle her debt, it was enormous. but, in doing this job, she has missed a lot. she missed an attack on drifter camp, missed che getting injured and coming across that man. now, the brunette is in no way an emotional woman, not to others. it's not the side of her she lets people see, because the idiot, clumsy, and flirty bai yi everyone knew was a facade. but when she found out about che, k.k, and the chief... and that che had to face that bastard again, she found herself resenting zoya for a moment, wondering how the powerhouse could fall so easily. but it was bai yi's fault for being swayed so easily by money, it was her fault she was here instead of there, where she could have protected che and k.k.

the thoughts pluck away at every nerve inside of her brain, sending tension throughout her body as she stands by the entrance of an abandoned building, watching the rain pour from an endlessly dark sky. when she feels as though her thoughts were growing just that inch too large she feels a sudden weight be laid upon her shoulders, literally, and turns her head to see the taller man standing by her side, without his usual trench coat. after a quick glance downwards, she confirms he had kindly wrapped it around her.

a soft laugh is her response, taking note of how the ends of his coat almost touch the ground. he was taller than she was, evidently, but it was amusing to see how his coat, which fit him handsomely, was much too large for herself and sort of enveloped her. she wanted to thank him, to spill all the thoughts that resided within her head out into the air, knowing that he would understand her more than anyone. he has a sister. che was like a brother to her. instead, she shifts, leaning against the wall with a charming little smile. ❝ lending me your clothes now, are you? look at us, we're practically in love, earl. ❞

[backdoctornewjersey]

What is Sciatica Back Pain?

Sciatica lower back pain is caused by compression, pinching, inflammation, and nerve irritation in the lower back. The most common reason is a slipped disk, leading to stress on the nerve root. Various individuals with sciatica get better independently with time and healthcare surgeries. The nerve sciatic back pain treatment is mainly associated with the sciatic nerve that arises from an irritation or injury. It originates from the gluteal area and goes to the lower leg bone. It is mainly created of five roots of nerves, two generated from the lower back area, known as the lumbar region of the spinal cord, and three generated from the last section of the spinal cord, known as the sacrum. 

The five nerve roots combine to create a left and right sciatic nerve. A single sciatic nerve operates through the hips on every side of the patient’s body. It goes through the buttocks to the down leg, which finishes just below the foot knees. This nerve branches into the nerves, which is mainly responsible for the continuation of the downfall of your leg in the feet and toes. The nerve sciatica issue is limited at back pain specialists clifton. However, the word sciatica is generally used to describe pain that starts in the lower back and goes below the leg. 

What are the feelings of sciatica pain?

Sciatica pain is described in distinct ways based on its causes. Some people show that it has felt like jolts, shooting, and sharp pain, while others show pain as stabbing, electric shock, or burning. The pain can be continuous or may go and come. However, the back pain doctor woodland park is generally more severe than lower back pain in your leg. 

The pain may feel worse if you are sitting and standing for long periods, also during the twisting of the upper body and when standing up. An instant body movement and a force like sneezing and coughing may also generate the worst pain. Sciatica mainly impacts a single leg at a single period. However, it is probable for sciatica to lead to both legs. It is only a condition of the place of the nerve being pinched with the spine at back pain specialists woodland. 

Risk factors associated with sciatica

There are various risk factors which are linked with the pain of sciatica. The most common and general risk factors are mentioned below.

It may have an injury to the lower back and spinal cord, putting anyone at the most significant risk. 

Normal aging may feel the nerves at threat of becoming injured and pinched through the shifts and transformations in ligaments, discs, and bones. 

The weight being carried in our front is the lift which has been pulled. 

Conclusion

Sciatica can occur either suddenly or slightly, and it depends on the reason for the occurrence. A disc herniation may lead to sudden irritation and causes pain. Arthritis may occur in the spinal cord, which takes time to originate and increases slightly. Sciatica is a common and general concern. Almost about 40 percent of individuals in the world experience sciatica generally. Back pain is the most common and the third most widespread cause for individuals to go to the back pain doctor or any other healthcare provider. 

Article Source : https://www.healthandhealthytips.com/what-is-sciatica-back-pain/

[blzzrdstryr]

Midnight chatter

Yandere Diluc x gn!knight!reader

Wordcount: 2385

CW: Yandere, drugging, kidnapping

This was a third week after his return and fifth day of the tireless fight with winery work, when Diluc received an unexpected guest. During his travels across the world, the winery business fell into disrepair and almost collapsed, so once he learnt the state of the wine industry he decided to settle in his office and try to battle the endless reports about necessary expenses and small profits all on his own.

He started to work with the first rays of sunlight well into the night, squeezing every bit of energy his body had, not only because financial issues could affect him personally, but also because of the night vigilante of Mondstadt title he took upon himself.Due to the increased workload he couldn’t find time to patrol the dark streets and alleys of the city, while experience and conscience didn’t allow him to thrust the safety of ordinary citizens into the hands of bumbling, cowardly and lazy knights.

The day soon turned into the late evening, and dawn winery workers started to go home, when someone knocked on his door. It was Adelinde.

Her steps were faster than usual, her stoic face shadowed by the note of concern. Diluc wanted to say that no, he won’t go and have a rest, but she spoke first.

“Master Diluc”, she stopped before his desk: “we have a guest, a knight”.

He lifted his head shifting the eyes from the report to the head maid and pondered - despite his long absence, a lot of people in the city had a general idea how much he dislikes the Favonius Order and so a rare knight would actually dare to bother him, unless… Unless, they were acting out an order from someone high-ranking, like Jean or Varka for example.

Apprehension that his former colleague somehow learned of his nightly escapades sent an unexpected wave of shivers and vague feeling of unease, but he didn’t let it get to him.

“Ask why this knight is here and if it’s something unofficial tell them to leave”, he ordered, at which Adelinde blinked, slowly and tiredly, as if she was looking for the strength to tell something incredibly upsetting or scary.

“The thing is, master Diluc, that I already let them in”.

“Without my permission?”, his eyes widened at that, and the heart started to pick up the pace. What if this knight was really sent here by Varka or Jean? If it was true, Adelinde, unknowingly set him up to fail.

She was looking after him from his earliest childhood, so she was allowed to do and say more than any other of his staff, yet this perceived audacity was unheard of before.

“They were badly injured and said that they needed to stop for the night and once it’s over they will travel to the city with the first sun rays. We helped them to patch up their injuries and offered a room for guests, yet they declined and remained to sit on sofa”, the maid explained absolutely unfazed, after noticing Diluc’s dissatisfaction and then added : “If you are that displeased, master Diluc, I can tell this tired and battered knight to get out from here into the dark night”.

Her voice remained even and emotionless as usual, but even like that young Ragnvindr could hear a light mocking in her words. And to think about it - he got so freaked out over some silly coincidence - the knight stopped here because of the injuries, not some insidious scheme.

“Alright”, Diluc admitted defeat: “they can stay… and offer them some food and tea”, he added just as Adelinde’s hand touched the doorknob.

“Will be done”, she replied before exiting the office. The corners of her mouth slightly moved and crept upwards.

***

Despite his earlier goal of finishing as much work as he can, Diluc couldn’t do anything. Small digits and letters started to float and dance before his eyes while the long lines fused together, when he tried to analyze the state of wine business in naught. But the worst thing was the fact that his thoughts strayed to the topic of mystery knight again and again and Diluc lost count how many times he caught himself thinking who this person is.

He sat like that for a while, until the cinnabar of dying sky got replaced by the darkness and pleasant chill of the night.

Diluc scolded himself for his uncharacteristic indecisiveness, standing up from the desk and locking the office, when this thought, loud and persisting, knocked into his head again. Wouldn’t it be nice, he wondered, to learn who this night is, and finally decided. After all the thoughts about them pestered him for a long time.

Quietly and carefully walking through the unlit corridor of the winery, he confirmed that all servants and workers had already left for sleep, some into the rooms of the main building designated for them, some into the cabins around it. All in all, he was confident that there’s no one except him, the knight, Adelinde and a couple of other maids.

His steps were quiet and slow and not even a single board in the wooden floor creaked under his weight as he knew the winery like the back of his hand. With a bated breath he made his way downstairs, making out vague shapes of the familiar objects. Moonlight pouring out through the windows illuminated only the silhouettes, but even with that he quickly noticed the unknown frame.

The person was half-sitting half-lying on the sofa, and their sword and armor were placed nearby the furniture, reflecting the pale light of the moon. They weren’t moving, seemingly asleep. Diluc couldn’t make out their face even after making a coming closer, so he decided to take the risk and summoned a small wisp of flame.

The dancing light illuminated everything in a small radius and what he saw made him jolt and take a step back. You were the mystery knight.

Why are you still a knight? Where were you? Who injured you?

Still shocked by the previous revelation, Diluc accidentally knocked over the breastplate with his foot and it fell on it’s side with a loud thump.

You woke up.

“What… Who?”, you stirred and half sat on the elbow: “Ah, it’s you” and saw him :”What are you doing here?”.

Caught red handed, Diluc didn’t find any words - it was so sudden and unusual to be caught unaware, and because of that doubly unpleasant.

“This is my winery and I am free to do whatever I want”, he decided to hide the awkwardness behind the faux annoyance.

“Easy, easy” you half smiled, half yawned: “I just managed to fall asleep”. You yawned again and blinked at him with sleepy tired eyes.

“I have sleep medicine if you want some”

You got surprised and touched by his sudden responsiveness: “Thank you, but I think painkillers would be better. My body is aching and that’s the main problem”.

Maybe because of the trembling, dancing light or maybe because of the recent sleep you imagined worry and pity twisting his facial features.

“I have it too. Wait here”, he quickly replied and vanished into the dim darkness of the winery, not giving you any time to answer, as you were left to sit and wait for him. Diluc, to your own surprise, happened to be extremely stealthy, able to move without producing a single sound.

“Here”, you first heard and then saw him,as Diluc used pyro vision to light the nearby candlestick and then opened the medicine vial he brought and handed it to you: “Drink it all”.

“Thank you”, you whispered to him, taking the painkiller before making a big gulp. The taste was horrible, so horrible in fact that you almost immediately started to violently cough. Well, if it’s as effective as foul, then I will be good as new in no time, you thought to yourself, suppressing the urge to throw up.

Diluc stood nearby and observed your reaction, his hand extended on his own when the coughing started as he awkwardly tried to pat your back in the gesture of comfort. “I will be here with you until you fall asleep”, he stated once the fit stopped and then, seeing your highly raised brows explained further: “Painkiller takes time to work. Tell me if you won’t feel better”.

You nodded in response, and closed eyes, listening to the sensations of your body. Your injuries still burned and screamed and throbbed, yet a strange numb sensation started to slowly surround you. Just like Diluc said, medicine would need time to fully settle in.

“If you're here can you talk with me?”, you decided to shorten the time in conversation: “Ijust wanted to talk with you. For a really long time”.

“About what?”, he allowed himself a shadow of the smile, Diluc that you used to know peeking through the gloomy facade, like a long awaited sun or it’s reflection on the tranquil mirror of the water surface. Next words stuck in your throat, bitter and acidic and totally unfit, and you had to force them out through your own hesitance to destroy this calm.

“What happened that day? The day before you left. I asked Jean and Kaeya and other knights who were present with you, yet no one said anything”, the water surface bubbled and the visage of that old, sunny Ragnvindr shattered into thousand pieces. The person before you adopted the same cold facade of annoyance and indifference.

“Why do you need to know it?”, he answered the question with another question and you sensed barely buried hurt and grief.

“You leaving hurt. A lot”

“That’s why you are still a knight?”, you quickly nodded at that.

A minute passed by and he still stood, without saying a single word, thinking what to do. On one hand, he didn;t want to open up, the story of his eighteenth birthday was incredibly painful and personal experience to be shared so freely, on the other hand he yearned for your understanding.

"Alright", he broke the silence:"Let's make a deal, you answer my questions and I'll tell you the whole story after. Deal?"

"Deal".

Diluc looked at you again, looked at the bruises and cuts, still peeking through the bandages and for a second his mind lit up with one thought alone: what disgusting bastard did that to you. He suppressed the rapidly rising rage, deciding to start from the most important.

"Is my leave the only reason why you decided to stay?" his heart picks up the pace again, he needs to know the answer.

"Basically yes, you knownI didn’t do it for my parents… I just.. That tragedy, I know it's not my place, but… I always wanted what happened to you. I asked this question to myself everyday and night, and I missed you terribly".

His breath hitched and he lowered his gaze. For some reason you always managed to fluster him with the words alone, even if it wasn't your intention.

"Your parents must be happy", h e changed the topic, stifling the heat in his heart.

"Yeah, they're ecstatic that I stopped being difficult and made their aspirations real. Hm, do you have any other questions?"

"What happened to you? ",he pointed at the bandages covering most of your body.

"Ah, catching treasure hoarders does that to you, usual stuff", you dismissed his concerns and Diluc started seeing red from the way your voice remained so calm and unbothered. Usual stuff? Usual stuff?!

"Grandmaster could send anyone else", he snapped:"Favonius Order has more than plenty of vision holders, they should've sent one, instead of you! You could die!".

Diluc’s sudden explosion left you speechless, but soon your own weaved words of irritation:"Ordo Favonius doesn't consist of Jean and Kaeya only. We can't let them handle all the hard and dangerous business all the time. Ordinary people like me can still help, even if the gods didn’t favour us. Don't think of me as some helpless idiot just because I have no shiny vision to show off"

Your heated response seemed to work and Diluc turned red from embarrassment, realizing how annoyed you got, despite the worry for your health and still present anger at the other knights for letting you get hurt. He also didn’t like how you looked at him, reprimanding and disappointed.

"Alright, sorry", he cleared his throat:"where were you before? I haven't seen you anywhere"

"City gates aren't the only thing that needs guarding. I was sent to the Liyue border, to make sure that no treasure gang crosses it. I think I will get sent there again, once I fully recover".

Diluc got angry at that too, yet this time he suppressed unpleasant feelings, already knowing how you will rebuke and reprimand him again. There's no convincing to be done, as you won't change your opinion. You left him no choice for what he was going to do.

"Alright, you answered all my questions", he said before changing topic again:"Did painkillers start working? I have another".

Being so engrossed in the conversation you forgot about the ache, yet once he mentioned it your body started to hurt with a renewed strength.

"Yes, I would like one", you decided and Diluc vanished in the unlit hall yet again.

"Here", he handed the small bottle to you already opened. The new substance was different, sweet and viscous. You managed to take two sips before your eyelids started to feel up with lead, and soon even lifting a hand seemed like a highly arduous task. Whatever the thing that Diluc gave you wasn't a painkiller.

"What…", you uttered, before your body relaxed and you fell asleep once again. Diluc bent over, looming over your unconscious form, as his hands carefully took the bottle away. He didn’t want it to somehow fall and injure you

This is a necessary measure, Diluc assured himself, before making a plan of actions. He would need to fake your disappearance and forge enough leads to direct investigation into the completely opposite direction, but now he needed to wake Adelinde up and ask her to prepare the room in the basement. He didn't want you to be uncomfortable in your new home.

[angry-geese]

Homesick Remedy

Gojo Satoru x Reader

Warnings: nsfw. Smut and fluff. Tender sex, hickeys/marking, oral (fem recieving), unprotected sex, creampie, breeding mention, praise kink (sort of/interpretable). afab reader.

Notes: Gojo returns home from a job and spends some quality time with the reader. domestic fluff turned smut

You're not quite sure when you hear the door open.

Gojo usually comes home late. It's the nature of his job. Being one of the world's best Jujutsu sorcerers doesn't exactly follow a 9-5 schedule. Curses don't care if you're sleeping. Most nights you would stay up to greet him. Your schedule was nearly as hectic as his, you dealt with this often. If he found you dozing off on the couch he'd press a kiss to your forehead and carry you to bed.

You had gone on a job the day prior. It was nothing of note; something you could easily handle on your own. A curse was proving to be difficult for lower level sorcerers so they sent you in. Mistakenly you let your guard down—only for a moment—and it cost you. The curse landed a blow on you. Nothing fatal. While your injuries weren't the most visible, they sure don't feel that way. You found yourself unwilling to tell Gojo, though. You could take care of yourself, but he always fussed over you. If he noticed something was off this morning, he made no mention of it.

Gojo's hand briefly touches your head, messing up your hair.

"You're home early." You say, reaching your arms out for him, making grabbing motions with your hands.

He leans down to give you a quick kiss before hauling you into his arms. Instinctively you bury your face in his chest, inhaling the woody scent of his cologne. As much as it smells nice, he puts far too much on. The scent tends to linger long after he's left the room. Something metallic hangs onto it. Blood. Although he doesn't appear injured.

Dramatically he flops back onto the couch. You shift so you're sitting in his lap, facing him. Dark circles line the skin under his eyes. It makes you wonder when he's last slept. His hair is a mess. Idly you brush it out of his eyes, tucking it behind his ear.

"Missed me?" This dumb looking grin spreads across his face.

"You? Never."

He visibly deflates. Of course you missed him, but his ego could survive a hit or two. There are very few things you enjoyed more than bullying your boyfriend. All in good fun. He's rarely bothered by it. Unfortunately you love him.

You often wonder how you got so lucky.

When the two of you first met, you couldn't stand each other. It was so long ago that it's hard to believe now. There was an obvious rivalry in school. He was always the best at what he did. Though he was a few years older, and moments you ran into him were rare, so it was often shrugged off. If you found something you thought you'd be good at, he was always better. Growing up, he was annoying like that. For someone like you, it made you furious. You had a petty, competitive streak. You had to be good at everything you did. You had to be one of the best sorcerers. You had to be the best in your class.

And you were, but he was always better.

You're a very talented sorcerer yourself, but it's hard not to feel inadequate standing next to him. Most people could say the same thing. Half of the Jujutsu world either wanted him, or wanted to be him. He always fit in so well.

It wasn't until well into adulthood that your paths crossed for long enough to talk. The two of you were more similar than you ever thought. You gave him a chance. Reluctantly so, but you did. Your work only made the two of you grow closer.

He shifts so you're in a more comfortable position in his arms, head resting against his chest. The sudden movement makes you wince. His demeanor completely changes. Gojo handles you like you're fragile; like you'll shatter in his grasp.

It pisses you off just a little bit.

"Is everything alright?" He asks.

He scans you over for injuries. The feeling of his eyes on your body makes you want to shrink back and hide.

"I may have had my ass handed to me on that last job." You let out a nervous sounding laugh, burying your face in his jacket. You're not quite sure why you're embarrassed. It was a mistake, nothing more. But he never makes them.

You're not sure if that makes it worse or better. So you don't question it.

You lean back in to deepen the kiss. It's the first distraction you can think of. It seems to work. The strong muscle of his tongue pushes past your lips, exploring your mouth. He tastes sweet. The scent of his cologne is heady, and makes your head swim.

"Do you want to?" He asks.

He's almost certain of the answer, but it never hurts to check.

You nod—maybe a bit too quick—but you nod. Despite the way your body aches, you want him.

"We're doing this in bed then." He says.

Gojo doesn't give you any time to respond before he's hauling you up into his arms bridal style, heading straight for your shared bedroom. The way he tosses your body onto the bed is a bit rough. It sends a sharp pain up through your ribs. The bed dips under his weight as he kneels in front of you. As you try to sit up, he pins you. His hands hold your wrists to the headboard, his knees straddling you.

Gojo coaxes your shirt over your head, humming in amusement when he realizes you don't have a bra on underneath. He palms at your breasts, tweaking your nipples between his fingers, working them into stiff peaks. He leans forward to take one into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud. It feels nice, but you can't help the throbbing ache it sends right to your cunt. Your hands tangle in his hair, gently guiding him where you want him most. It hardly takes him any time to turn you into a moaning, babbling mess.

You'll have a collar of hickeys in the morning.

Part of you hates how quickly he can turn you to putty in his hands. He knows all the ways that make you melt.

You palm at the growing tent in his pants. He's half hard, his cock leaking against his thigh. He's been gone so long, maybe you've missed him more than you thought. He's certainly missed you. He always finds himself wanting to come home to you at the end of the day.

You lift your hips enough so he can slide your shorts—along with your panties—completely off. Then Gojo's shirt. They're tossed in a heap to your side, landing by your discarded clothes. You're always surprised at how muscular he is without his jacket. It hides a lot more than you thought, you suppose. His eyes scan over you, and the instinct there is to hide. He notices you shying away and stops for a moment.

"Do you still want to?"

Again, you nod. You'd have stopped him if you really didn't.

He pulls you in for a kiss—just a quick peck this time—then plants one on the tip of your nose. Your cheeks turn bright red at that. His head dips down to press a kiss to your sternum; the valley between your breasts. He trails kisses down your bare stomach. Somewhere during that time his hands find your breasts, kneading the plush flesh. He's always admired the curves of your body. His was nice, but it was all angles and hard muscle.

His cock is around average in size—maybe a bit bigger—about six or so inches. It's pretty, like a pornstar's, and he always keeps it well groomed. He's not very intimidating. The head is a ruddy color, with a prominent vein running right to it. Although he's clean shaven, the hairs at the base of his cock are the same white as his head. That question bothered you for years before you finally got an answer. It doesn't take a whole lot of prep to take him, but he always likes working his partners up. Anything you could deal, he'd dish back out double. Never anything you can't handle, but Gojo can be a bit of an ass.

He presses a kiss to your thigh, sucking a dark mark where you won't be able to see. The action sends an ache of need right to your core. Heat pools low in your stomach, slowly building in intensity. Gojo's arms hook around your thighs, pulling you towards him. Your legs rest just over his shoulders. The aching need in your cunt makes it hard to think straight. All you want is for him to touch you. He licks a long stripe up your slit. His own eyes are clouded with need, his cheeks flushed, lips bitten pink. His strong hands knead the soft flesh of your thighs, his breath hot against your skin. He licks a stripe from your bellybutton to your mound. You jump as he presses kitten licks to your clit, working the bundle of nerves in achingly slow motions. You taste sweet, he notes.

Your hands bury in his hair, guiding him to where you need him most. This time he relents, leaning in to lap at your clit in soft, steady motions. One of his fingers presses against your entrance. They're long, but thin, and dexterous. After a moment, he adds a second, pressing up against your g-spot. It's another moment before he starts pumping them. The sounds of your slick sex and moans fill the room. He sucks onto the sensitive bundle of nerves so desperately that it feels like it'll pop off. He swirls his tongue around it in a way that makes your toes curl and your fingers bury in the sheets. You get louder the closer you get to your own orgasm. He takes note of this. It's only a moment later when he pulls away. The lower half of his face glistens in the dim light. He makes a show of licking his fingers, groaning at the taste. Gojo leans back in for a kiss. Not much more than a quick peck. You can taste yourself on him. He finds your shocked and disappointed look endearing.

"Please,"

A smug look spreads across his face. "Please what?"

"Fuck me,"

He cages you in his arms, pinning your wrists against the bed. You might be able to wriggle out of his grasp if you really tried; not that you want to. He can't help but admire the mess between your thighs.

You take his cock into your hands, giving him a few quick pumps. He's painfully hard. Precum beads at the head, which has turned an angry shade of red. Gojo wastes no time in lining himself up. His slick cock head traces around your entrance before pushing in. He takes his time, slowly bottoming out in you. The stretch stings slightly, but isn't necessarily painful. With all the prep, he slides right in. He groans as you take him right to the hilt.

As he starts to thrust, your scramble for purchase against his chest. Your arms wrap around his neck, your fingers lacing together behind his head. His hair tickles your neck. He coos words of praise into your ear, telling you how good you take him, how good you feel around him. You clench around him, pulling him back in. Gojo sucks dark marks into your neck, only adding to the collar of hickeys. He takes pride in seeing you all marked up. Some possessive part of him loves seeing the marks he leaves behind.

Gojo's hips roll against yours in lazy thrusts. To him, there's no prettier sight than seeing your form writhe under him. His hands grab your legs propping them up on his shoulders. The new angle allows him to hit deeper than before. He picks up in pace, snapping his hips against yours in short, quick motions.

His free hand traces circles around your clit. The heat in your stomach soon grows scorching in nature. You're close. He notices the way your breathing grows shaky, how your moans get louder and more desperate sounding.

When you cum, you cum hard. Your legs clamp around his hips, pulling him back in. The way your pussy spasms around him is enough to send him over the edge. It almost catches him off guard—he didn't expect to cum so soon—he bites into his tongue hard to stop the moan that escapes him. His cum paints your walls white, filling you up more than ever before. As he pulls out, he does so slowly to not spill any of his cum.

He pulls you so your back is flush to his chest. Your skin is sticky with sweat, and maybe a bit of saliva. The sound of his steady breathing threatens to lull you to sleep. He smooths a hand over your hair, brushing it out of your eyes. Gojo looks at you with such adoration that it makes affection swell in your chest. Moments like these are rare; falling asleep next to him. Life rarely seems to allow it. It's always nice when you can take a break together.

"I missed you." You finally say.

"I know." He plants a kiss on your forehead. "I missed you too."

[recklessmark]

mine

—when the bodyguard your dad hired is your long lost rival.

Pairings: bodyguard Mark x mob-boss Reader

Words: 2.4k

Warnings: unprotected sex (be safe!), dirty talk, rough sex, oral sex, spanking, slut shamming, orgasm denial, mark is possessive but cute at the end.

The sounds of your heels clicking against the ground filled up the silent patio. You stormed into your house after receiving a text from your dad, basically demonstrated that he had sent you a new bodyguard since your job had been getting more intense lately. This should be the umpteenth guard that your dad hired, how are they supposed to protect you when every time you get into trouble, they can’t even take care of themselves.

You locked the door, kicking your shoes off before walking inside. Noticing a figure of a man sitting on the couch, you frowned. One hand holding the gun holster, the other finding the light switch. But they immediately fell onto your mouth when the man in question himself turned around due to the sudden light in the room. Your eyes went widen, still not believed in what you saw. He stood up, a coy smirk displayed on his face as he slowly approached you.

“You miss me?”

You looked him up and down, confirming that you were not dreaming, “M-Mark Lee? You’re alive?”

Your back is against the wall as Mark pressed his body on you, your faces were an inch away from each other. You’re babbling, dying to know how it’s possible for your long lost rival, Mark Lee, revitalized from his death and now standing in your house. Mark had been on the back of your head since the day you heard the news of his death from a combat. Apparently you’re supposed to hate him but that period of time was the darkest of your life, you practically couldn’t live without him.

He leaned in, his nose was brushing yours, “If I knew my appearance can earn that reaction from you, I would accept the job offer sooner.”

You tensed under his muscular body, his face plastered with arrogance. You squinted your eyes at him, “So you’re the body guard that my dad hired?”

Mark nodded, “Didn’t know that my death make your career path a lot easier. You’re the boss now huh?”

You pushed him away, you needed to go since you’re melting into his touch and that’s definitely not a good sign. You fixed your clothes before walking away.

“You can sleep on the couch or in the room next to the balcony. We’re going to the estate tomorrow.”, you called behind your back, “And don’t even think about breaking into my room at midnight.”.

You remembered that time you saw Mark sitting in front of your house with blood everywhere. You did let him stay at your place since he was terribly injured with two bullets in his shoulder and a gash on his ribs. He was super lucky to magically survive after that much damage, and you thought you could be a surgeon that you were phenomenally able to save him with some basic medical skills. Mark stayed with you for two weeks and literally broke into your room every night despite of your death threats and the locks on your door that you only bought because of him. You pathetically had no sleep at that time, how were you supposed to sleep peacefully when your hot enemy was pressing his chest against your back. You sighed, Mark Lee is the first bodyguard you didn’t kick out on the first day and the only bodyguard you let staying at your place.

—

You’re questioning yourself about the faith you put in Mark, your used-to-be enemy, that you actually allowed him to be your bodyguard and now you’re guiding him to your estate. What if he’s preparing for a terrorization?

“So why did you fake your death?”, you asked, only loud enough for him to hear clearly.

Mark glanced at you as he’s trying to find the perfect vocabulary for the situation, “The boss thought I’m a threat to the gang so they attempted to kill me many times, unsuccessfully though.”

“That you’ll murderer that coward and replace him? What in the mysterious novel is this?”, you laughed almost choked on your spit.

Everyone eyes landed on you and Mark when you stepped inside the building, the faint smile on your lips had soon faded away. They respectfully greeted you as you made your way to the office.

“What are you involved with?”

You heard him question when you’re in the elevator. Your fingers tapped on your lips,

“Pharmaceuticals”

“Drugs”

You darted your eyes at him as the word fell out of his mouth. “God, I’m trying to make it sound legal, no need to say it out loud like that.”, you gave him a warning look before continued talking.

“Automotive recovery and repair”

“Grand theft auto”

You’re not bothered to yell at Mark or whatsoever, as if he hadn’t done all that things.

“Defense trading”

“Selling illegal weapons”

You stopped a bit, looking at the number on the monitor screen of the elevator.

“And contract execution.”

The elevator was finally on the highest floor, which only has your office and the meeting room. You stopped at your track when you see a gap on your office door, you always remember to lock it up before going home, except it’s...

“Y/N!”

You almost passed out, you should’ve mentioned that you totally hate surprises. How do people find it’s funny when they scare the fuck out of somebody?

“Lee Haechan? When did you get here?”

You lost your balance when Haechan jumped on you for a hug, “Last night.”

You fumbled on your feet as the weight on you hardened your breathing. “God, do you always have to cling on me like that?”

His arms wrapped around your waist, he rested his head on the crook of your neck as he noticed the man that had been standing at the door frame.

“Who’s this? You better not cheat on me!”

You frowned, pushing Haechan away, “Cheat your ass! He’s my bodyguard.”, you turned around to look at Mark.

“Hey, you should go check the new people. If they mess up, I’ll kick your ass.”

You asked Haechan to leave before he continued making something up. You don’t know why he has a thing for pretending to be your boyfriend, sometimes cousin or even worse is step brother. He always knows how to get you into trouble and never take responsibility for that. You don’t know how come he’s your best friend and your assistant.

You locked the door after he already left, not care about Mark still froze at his space. You sat down, reorganized the stacks of papers on your desk.

“He’s your boyfriend?”

Your eyes flew up only for you to see that Mark was hovering over you, his hands pressed on the desk.

You looked back down, “Why would you care?”

He remained silent, you shrugged, unbothered by his question. Neither the two of you broke the silence first until you completed all the work, it’s already night time outside. You glanced at Mark, who’s sitting on the couch next to the window with his gaze focused on you. You flustered, wondering if he had been like that for 4 hours straight since you came to work after lunch.

“Let’s go.”

—

You’re walking to your car in the parking lot when someone familiar drew your attention.

“Jaehyun!”

You hollered while running towards the man. He caught you in his arms as you peck on his cheeks, which was not become unnoticed by Mark. He recognized the man, Mark had a few combats with him before.

You noticed the expression on Jaehyun’s face changed lightly when his gaze shifted. You knew what’s it about.

“He’s the bodyguard my dad hired, I’ll explain but I have to leave now okay?”

You gave him a small kiss on his lips before turning around, pulling Mark with you.

—

“Get out!”

Mark snarled when he finally pulled up in the garage. He walked out, leaving you confused in the car. Did he just yell at you? You gasped as the door beside you flung opened, he recklessly took off your seat belt before pulling you into the house.

“What the hell Mark?”

You asked when he pressed you against the door, still could not comprehend what’s happening.

“Shut up!”

He groaned into your ear, his head was on the crook of your neck, you squirmed as his hair tickled you.

“Have you done flirting with every man you meet? You want to be a slut so bad don’t you? You want Jung Jaehyun to fuck you right? And either whoever the man in your office was!”

Your body tensed under his, his breath hit your skin giving you some feelings. Both of your hands attempted to push Mark away by his shoulder but he didn’t move an inch. He left your neck to face you, his eyes gave you death stare.

“Mark take a fucking breath, okay?”, you muttered out. His eyes were still boring holes into you as you continued, “Haechan is my assistant and Jaehyun”, you stop, “I like him.”

“That jackass? That? Him?”

You frowned, “He’s not a jackass.”, you debated.

Mark grabbed you around the waist, “He doesn’t ever touch you again. Understand?” His tone was venomous. “You’re mine.”

You stood in silence as your brain functioning his words. His proximity to you was turning the heat in your veins from anger into something else.

“Oh yeah, Mark? I’m yours?”

“Mine.” His face was mere inches from yours.

You narrowed your eyes. “Fucking prove it, then, asshole.”

He tightened his grip around your waist and practically threw you onto the couch. You turned and tried to crawl away but he pulled you back down, forcefully, and slammed his hips into your ass. You could feel his erection straining against his trousers as he ground into you. You braced your hands on the couch as he kicked your legs apart and shoved your dress up around your waist.

“You want me to fucking prove it?”

He cupped your ass in his hands and squeezed hard before ripping off your lace panties and throwing them on the floor. One hand snaked around your waist to keep you from escaping while the other ran along your slit. Mark placed his finger in his mouth tasting you groaning lowly and then pulled it out with a pop. He kneeled down and ran his tongue along your slit before digging in. His tongue circling your clit before darting into your hole then going back. You moaned, your hands gripping the edge of the couch as you felt your orgasm fast approaching.

"M-Mark..." you whimpered as your legs started to shake. He groaned against you as he kept going, the vibrations making your mind go blank. "I-I-I'm... I'm go-gonna..."

He pulled away in a moment, leaving you undone. You whined, desperate to come. Instantly his hand came out and wrapped around the back of your neck pulling you close to him and smashing his lips into yours in a sloppy kiss, his tongue dominated yours as you can taste yourself on it. His other hand ran up your thigh until it reached your ass and he gripped a cheek roughly causing you to moan out.

“Do you think you deserve to cum? You acted like a slut so I treat you like one.”

He started to kiss and bite along your neck stopping every so often to leave some marks. You heard the metallic click as it was unfastened and then his zipper as he freed his cock. Then, in one motion, he slammed into your cunt.

“How about this, huh? Do you like my cock inside you?”

You gritted your teeth and nodded, Mark smacked your ass, hard. “Answer me, goddamnit. Do you like my cock inside you?”

“Yes,” you breathed.

“Say it.” He began a slow but punishing rhythm, pistoning into you as hard as he could. “Fucking say it, Y/N.”

“Yes–Mark....” He punctuated each of your words with a deep thrust. “I – like – your – cock – inside �� me – ”

“You like it when I fuck you hard?” he growled as he began to speed up.

“Yes… yes… oh God, yes,” you moaned, giving yourself over to the pleasure.

“You filthy fucking slut… you like it when I fuck your pussy from behind like this?”

“Yes! Mark, yes!” you could feel your climax already approaching as Mark reached down to rub your swollen clit with his hips slamming into you nonstop.

“Are you mine, Y/N?” he roared.

“Yes, Mark, I’m yours!”

With that, your orgasm tore through you, your back arching as your body pulsed around him. You had barely come down from your high when leaned over, “You should be grateful that I let you cum. Turn around, dirty girl. I want your mouth.”

Mark pulled out of you and you turned around kneeling in front of him, still feeling boneless. He grasped your hair and you let your jaw drop open; he bucked his hips forward and you could taste yourself on his cock. You sucked him greedily as he thrust forward.

He groaned as he emptied himself into your mouth; you swallowed everything Mark gave you before slowly licking him clean. He fell flopped himself onto the couch, shaking from the force of his release, before wrapping his arm around your naked body.

For a few long minutes, the only sound was your labored breathing as you tried to recover.

“Do you actually like Jaehyun?”

Mark mumbled but loud enough for you to hear, his breath was still heavy.

You leaned in to rest your head on his shoulder, your legs curled up, pressing against your bare chest. “Yes, but I guess it doesn’t matter anymore.”

His hand brushed your hair comfortably, “Why?”

“Didn’t you just claim me like two minutes ago? You can’t change your mind.”, Mark couldn’t help but giggled, he pressed his chin on your head. “Since when you have feelings for me?”, you looked up only to see his sharp jawline, his signature scent filled up your nostrils.

“I don’t know dude, may be that time when you held a dull dagger on my throat or when you attempted to shoot me with no bullet loaded in the gun.”

You slapped his arm playfully, “That was an accident!”

The room went into silence again, your eyes stared into the city outside of the wall of windows.

“Do you know when I figured out my feelings?”

Mark traced your fingers with his thumb, waiting for your answer. “I kissed Jaehyun because it’s the last kiss, I thought you don’t care.”, you intertwined your hand with his, “But I know you’re my everything the moment you I saw you sitting here, that my long lost hot rival is alive.”

©️  DREAMYKRAM. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

[farfromsugafanfic]

Amadeus | Chapter One: The Plague

Genre: Werewolf AU, slight Fantasy AU, Musician!Reader

Pairing: Bang Chan/Reader

Rating: M

Warnings: animal attacks, violence against animals,

Synopsis: Chan belongs to the Order of Amadeus who work to keep the kingdom safe from the lycanthropy plague spreading among the populace. You can only hunt so long before you become what you hunt.

Y/N is a violinist in a traveling music troupe-one of the few left in the kingdom. One morning when she is practicing in the woods, a man emerges from among the trees and changes her life forever.

Down a member, the Order of Amadeus continues their mission to end the lycanthropy plague, but their missing member remains in the back of their mind as they narrow in on the worst wolf of them all.

It all started one day when an injured wolf hobbled into a village on the edge of the forest. Blood spilled from its shoulder and it panted as it made its way into a field of sheep. The farmers were used to watching for wolves emerging from the forest, usually staffing a local teenager to sit at the edge of the field and watch. A shotgun leaned against the watch stand, dusty

When she noted the scruffy gray form moving towards her, the girl squinted her eyes as she reached for the shotgun. Her hand on the cool metal of the barrel, her fingers didn’t wrap around it as she noticed the weakened gait and the blood dripping from its shoulders, down the front leg, and between the toes of the paw.

The girl knew she should shoot it and put it out of its misery, but her job was to protect the flock of sheep and this wolf was obviously no threat to them. Slowly climbing down the elevated watch stand, the girl approached the wounded animal. 

The wolf approached her as if it was there specifically for her. Laying down on its uninjured side, yellow eyes watched as the girl lightly touched the wound, blood coating her hand.

“How did you manage this?” she asked as if talking to a house cat.

The wolf let out a whimper.

The girl looked around, hoping her bosses were not nearby. She knew this would likely get her thrown off the job, but the animal was helpless. Remembering that a blanket was kept in the watch stand, she climbed back up and brought the layers of thick cotton back down. 

“I’m not sure how much I can do, but this should stop the bleeding.”

Pressing the blanket firmly against the wolf’s shoulder, she used both hands to lean her weight against it. She held the pressure until she felt blood soak through and then she shifted the blanket and repeated. Eventually, the bleeding subsided.

The wolf still panted, though it leaned over to lick its wound. She took the opportunity to admire the animal. Gray, tan, and brown hairs mixed together gave it almost a dappled look when the light hit it just right. If it were not for the long ears, wild eyes, and engorged white teeth, one might mistake the creature for a stray dog.

“Hey! What are you doing?”

It was her employer, the farmer. He walked towards her, his eyes wide and nearly bugging out as he took in the scene.

“Are you crazy? Why are you so close to that? You should’ve shot it.”

“It’s injured. It wasn’t going after the sheep.” Her eyes looked between the farmer and the wolf, and a sudden deep rumbling emerged from deep in the creature’s chest.

The farmer’s dark eyes switched from anger to fear and back again. He reached for the shotgun and aimed it. The barrel pointed at the wolf’s head, the girl heard the safety click off and she felt something push her forward like a parent’s hand on a child’s back.

The wolf–aching and angry–lunged forward at the same moment. Colliding with the girl, the wolf’s yellow eyes were focused only on the man holding the shotgun. It opened its mouth and bit down.

Two Weeks Later

“The wolf is dead!”

Bells chimed and people emerged from houses and businesses as the crowd of the village’s men walked into the square. Torches illuminated the branch slung over the shoulders of two men. People craned their necks to catch a glimpse of the creature, but instead caught a glimpse of bloodied human skin.

“You’ve killed a man!” 

The body was that of a young man, probably no older than twenty-five. His dark hair hung down as if standing up along the back of a threatened wolf. Each of his limbs was tied to the branch with coarse rope. Mouths dropped and villagers gasped. Children swept behind skirts.

The men looked between each other. “He was a wolf when we shot him.”

Silence fell. If he was a wolf and then turned into a man that could only mean one thing.

Two More Weeks Later

Sweat pricked at the girl’s brow as she seized. The wolf bite had healed over and was pink. But, there was a burning inside of her that burnt hot and smoky like a fire at the end of summer when they cured the meat for winter. Her mother held her hand with worried eyes.

“It’s just the worry,” she said. “You’re not going to turn. Don’t worry. They must’ve shot the wrong one.”

The girl knew that wasn’t true. The man’s corpse had a deep wound in his shoulder. Though, it was healing. It didn’t surprise her that the wolf was a werewolf, there was something about its eyes that felt human. Something that made her trust him. The villagers said that it had all been a trick, but it didn’t feel like one.

The doctor came an hour later. She barely noticed the point of the knife piercing her skin and the blood flowing from her arm. He took some strongly scented paste and rubbed it under her nose and behind her ears. 

“This is all I can do,” the doctor said. “We must wait the night to see if she turns.”

“And what if she does?”

“Let’s pray she does not.”

At midnight, the moon was at its full height. And that is when it began.

The girl’s seizing became more violent, the chair beside her bed flipped over and the medications left behind by the doctor spilled. An inhuman scream left her lungs as her clothes split open and her body transformed. Her toes grew claws, her eyes shifted from dark brown to a rich yellow, and her teeth grew pointed.

Her mother watched in horror as her teenage daughter became a wolf before her eyes. She began to slowly back towards the wall, her eyes wide. Was her daughter still in there? Or was she a wild animal who would rip out her throat?

Word spread the next morning that the girl had turned. The house was dark, but listening closely villagers caught small animalistic whimpers. The doctor had gone in but left less than a quarter-hour later. Rumor had it that she was chained by the neck in the house. That she was angry and feral, no semblance of the teenage girl left.

As the full moon once again emerged, the village went quiet, forgetting momentarily about the wolf in one of the houses in the village. Those who did think of it were only thankful that it was not their house or daughter.

Glass broke and a howl reverberated off the night air.

The plague began.

Masterlist | Next

[shotorozu]

TITLE : hospital stay

PAIRING : bakugou katsuki x reader

SYNOPSIS : you’re in the hospital on your boyfriend’s birthday, and bakugou seems to have no issue with spending it in there.

WARNING(S) : MHA MANGA SPOILERS ‼️ (recent arc)

legend : [Y/N = your name] they/them pronouns used, a quirk similar to the avatar but that’s about it.

note(s) : so, it’s bakugou’s birthday. and i had this idea since march 20 😦 so i’ve been waiting for his birthday to come for literally a month but i didn’t want to post this way too early. alsooo i don’t know if this arc happened near spring but lets pretend it did for the sake of the story

When you woke up, the fluorescent lights were the first to hit your face

Following by the incoming beeping of a monitor, and the sudden throbbing of your head, the dryness of your throat evident.

Blinking slowly (or trying to, your other eye being a bit delayed.) you try recalling what just happened. You’re in a hospital, that’s one thing you know, but the specifics are still unknown to you.

Right. You remember now, you were fighting along side your classmates, and you managed to get blasted away when you thought that shielding Bakugou Katsuki would work. Yeah, you were sure that you were going to get an earful from him, if he—

You jolt when you notice said blond standing right next to your bed, vermillion eyes staring deep into your own, and somewhat— you could feel the weight and intensity in the stare

“S-since when did you get here?” You’re startled, and your voice is hoarse. Bakugou doesn’t formulate a response, and chooses to avoid the question as a whole.

“Finally you’re up.” He rolls his eyes. He looks much better than you remembered, despite having a few bandages on his forehead— he looked well. “It’s been 5 fucking days.”

“Five days?” You question out loud, your sense of time all disorganized. You clench your hand, just to see if your quirk was still working. Seeing air, fire, water, and just.. something, would relieve your worries— but a look from the blond shot you down quickly. You decided that it was wise if you didn’t try.

The blond seems to be done with the conversation, since he immediately walks out of the room. Actually, why was he here? You’d expect him to be laying down in bed, but despite being hit with that beam, he was walking around like everything was fine.

He comes back with a few other nurses, and they’re relieved to see that you’re awake— and even though they’ve bombarded you with questions with how you felt, you couldn’t brush off the feeling of a pair of ruby eyes on you.

Just, glaring. It’s nothing abnormal.

When the nurses finally leave you alone, giving you details of a few injuries— like your injured— well, burned eyelid that honestly stung (it came from the fire aspect of your quirk) you would’ve expected to be alone in your hospital room for the rest of your time there but Bakugou stayed.

“You’re going to tell me why you jumped in front of me?”

You were expecting to be questioned by him, after all— what you did didn’t exactly shield him, since he was also pierced. You didn’t expect the interrogation to be happening this soon

“Actually, don’t answer that. I don’t want to fucking know.” And he suddenly changes his mind, just like that.

You would’ve said impulse as an answer, but you doubt that he would’ve taken that seriously. And besides, you were kind of glad he changed midway that he didn’t want your answer. Your voice feels parched, despite chugging down a glass of water earlier.

“Did you check up on Deku?” You cringe when you hear cracks in your voice, and the dryness is unbearable to your throat, but he nods. “Idiot’s knocked out cold.”

He doesn’t mention the fact that you were one of the last few people that were still rendered unconscious.

“Your throat sounds like the sahara desert. Do me a favor and drink up.”

You blink owlishly at the glass of water that was set on the mini table, and when you drink up— it actually does something to relieve (temporarily) the dryness.

It was a consequence of your quirk after all, using your quirk too much would cause your body to feel sore, and everywhere to feel dry, and he knew that.

Bakugou was acting uncharacteristically, and you just don’t know why. Maybe it’s not so uncharacteristic of him, since he’s been less of an asshole as of recently, but you know that he would probably deviate from the question if you asked, so the both of you sat in silence.

—

It’s the next day, the same as yesterday— except it looked like dawn when you woke up. Bakugou also appeared at the side of your bed once again, almost as if he was there for quite some time.

“Nice to see you too,” You think to yourself, and you’re glad you didn’t actually say that out loud. You try to stand up straight, but Bakugou’s quick to push your back against the pillows.

“Don’t sit up, that’s idiotic.”

“Right, sorry. How did you get here? Isn’t it too early?” The parched throat came back. Though the ‘magical’ baku-water helped, it’s effects were only temporarily, sadly.

“You call 7am early?” Right, because for him— 7am isn’t that early, you even remember seeing him up at 6 sometimes.

“Actually, wait.” You blink, trying to recall what day it was, and what month it was. You recalled it being spring but.. was it March? or was it April already?

“What.. day is it today?”

It was almost like he was hesitant to say, “..April 20.”

“What the— April 20?” You’re appalled, because the last time you remembered, it wasn’t anywhere near April 20, but maybe it’s your 5 day unconsciousness to be blamed. “Isn’t it your birthday?”

“Shut up,” He mumbles, and he shifts around the room in search of something, but it’s too dim to be able to tell.

“Medicine. The nurses said you should take it now.”

You don’t reply.

“It’s for your Sahara desert throat. The other things are for your fucked up eye and injuries.”

That seems to be enough to convince you to take the medicine, and despite wanting to run away screaming from the bitterness, you take the medicine— not wanting to be met with any consequences

“Why are you spending your birthday here?”

“Do idiots like you ask that many questions?” He shoots back, and you’re unfazed by the fact that he just called you an idiot. You wouldn’t blame him.

“No but.. you seem fine.”

“A few days ago I was not, but now I am because I took medicine.” He walks over to untwist a few medicine caps, it appears to be for your eye.

“So, Does my eye look fine?” You bat your eyelashes just to mess with him, and he flicks your forehead with an ointment cap “No.”

“Sorry, sorry,” You laugh, choosing to completely ignore the sudden sharp pain when you laugh.

He bends down to reach eyelevel, “Can you see?”

“Sorta.” Your eye has this thin blur filter to it, that can’t be good— can it? Going blind in one eye, and having to wear an eye patch.

It was almost on cue, because Bakugou says “You’ll be rocking the pirate look if you don’t take your medicine,” Instead of handing the medicine for you to apply, he quickly applies a decent amount around your eyes— not giving you a warning whatsoever.

You wince slightly, but you’re glad it’s over. But why is he playing nurse with you? And why was he brushing off the fact that it’s literally his birthday.

—

Through out the entire day, Bakugou continued to act as if he had some responsibility over you. From helping you put on your medicine, to just monitoring you with eyes of a hawk. The fact that he chose to ignore all your protests was just a part of him.

His behavior was also very.. interesting. It would swing from being his usual self, to being this eerily quiet and calm Bakugou. You would’ve guessed that you were having a fever dream, if it weren’t for the fact that he wore his usual scowl on his face.

What remained consistent, despite it all— was that he stayed. He ate lunch in your room. He only left when the doctors and nurses asked him too, but that was only temporary. He stayed with you the entire day, even when the clock stroke 5pm.

But it’s quite literally his birthday? Why would he spend it in a hospital room with some extra? Or idiot? Let alone, why would he take care of said idiot/extra on his birthday? You don’t know because he refuses to tell you on why he spent it here.

“Did you at least get some cake or something?” You ask for the umpteenth time, Bakugou’s paced back and forth for some medicine bottles and bottles of water, and you could tell that he was scowling, despite the fact that he was facing the other direction, “Why the hell would I want cake? You’ve been asking weird shit all day.”

“Because it’s your birthday? Seriously— have you been brainwashed into thinking that it’s not your birthday?”

“What— fuck no. I haven’t been brainwashed.” He turns over to you, “I know today is my birthday.”

“Okay, so you know. Why aren’t you celebrating then? Did people forget? Or am I finally going insane?”

Bakugou chooses to stay silent. He stands up, and walks over to you— everytime he moves closer, you could feel your heart pound, luckily not at a dangerous rate.

“Birthday, birthday, birthday” He grumbles, quiet, but loud enough for you to hear. “That’s all you’ve been talking about. As if like you weren’t the one in the hospital bed as we speak.”

“Okay, is it wrong to remember your birthday?”

“Shut up, I didn’t say that.” He gets closer once again, almost to the point that your faces weren’t that far away.

“You’ve just been so concerned about my damn birthday, that you haven’t even taken a good look at yourself,” He gestures at you, by looking you up and down

You finally take observation of all of the gauzes, the IV tubes, and bandages, his words forcing you to look at what was reality.

“I don’t know why you did what you did, jumping in front of me like some kind of heroic bastard, it’s dumb. For all I know, I should be screaming at you, and wishing you the worst for that.” He clenches his fist when he recalls, the scene replaying in his head

“But what I am saying is that, you can give me a gift if you’re so fucking concerned about my birthday. It’s the least you can do.” His statement is solid enough for you to take him seriously. You wouldn’t have if he was scowling, but it’s quite.. different. An expression you’ve seen all day, but seeing it up close is a different story.

“And that would be..?” You gulp, anticipation bubbles

And just like that, he presses his lips against yours, the warmth of his lips sending shocks of warmth all around your body— the impact was abrupt, but the kiss as a whole was surprisingly gentle

Yet, it was also similar to his quirk, it sparked up spurs of need and sent goosebumps all over your body.

You place a hand on his shoulder, the tubes around your arms making it too difficult to wrap your arms around him as you deepened the kiss, Bakugou’s touch is cautious when he lays his hand on a spot that was the least affected, aware of your injuries. Pushing the small of your back with his hand quite gently, he kisses you like it’ll be the very last— even though you both know it won’t be.

When you both pull back, you’re taken aback— unable to think of coherent words, and a proper response.

But this damn bastard, he smirks at you knowing that he just sent shocks and explosions of intense feelings all around your body, your lips still tingling from the kiss.

“Wait, that’s unfair!”

“What?”

“I had no idea you even liked me!”

“For the fucking longest time I did, why the hell would I even be in some extras room, if I didn’t care about them?!” He tries not to yell too loudly but, the tone of his voice gets raised

You blink, “And you preferred playing nurse with your crush this entire time, instead of spending it properly like well.. everyone else?”

“Who the hell said— Fucking hell, do I have to kiss you again for you to understand?”

“Enlighten me,” Your mouth quirks up into a smile, which ultimately causes his cheeks to be set ablaze.

“Playing fucking nurse with you isn’t horrible. It’s one way to spend my birthday, even when you give me shit about it” His brows press together, trying to drown out his flustered expressions with a scowl, “There’ll be more birthdays to come, so why would I be ‘wasting’ it here? There, that’s it. You happy now?”

Silence.

“..More than happy. But don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone about your thing for playing nur—”

“Don’t you fucking finish that thought,” He says stern. “I’m going to get the nurses to check on you, and then— I’ll go home and come back again, tomorrow.”

He storms off, and when the blond is sure that he’s not in your line of vision anymore— he slumps against the wall

“Fucking hell, they’re driving me crazy.” He mumbles, recalling what he had pulled off earlier.

»»————-　♡　————-««

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission

[dwaynepride]

just like we were kids

pairing: young!gibbs x reader, young!ducky + reader

summary: 5 times gibbs kisses you and 1 time ducky kisses you.

warnings: reader is kidnapped, mentions of rope burns

words: 4,196

a/n: very loosely based off the 400th episode but not strictly

It’s been a very long day.

Gibbs sat next to a crying baby on the bus riding into DC, the hotel receptionist gave him a hard time when he tried to check in, and he was forced into the trunk of a car with a gun pointed to his head.

“He forced you, Marine?”

Gibbs withheld an annoyed sigh; only because this agent was pretty alright. “There were civilians around. Didn’t want to risk it.”

“Noble,” the agent responds. “But a gamble.”

Yeah. A gamble that only sorta paid off because Gibbs knows you’ll give him an earful just as soon as you get here.

“If it wasn’t for that idiot driving on the wrong side of the road, you might be the one in our morgue.”

God, Gibbs hopes he doesn’t say that when you’re around.

In the distance, he hears the elevator ding. And the agent motions toward it. “Now, you got a chance to say thank you. Looks like he’s back from the hospital to give his statement.”

Gibbs turns, spotting the man in a bowtie with his arm in a sling and talking the ear off of the women who brought him up here. The Scotsman was ranting off about American driving habits, no doubt blaming it all on why he crashed. Hearing it makes Gibbs smirk.

“Mr. Mallard,” the agent greets.

“Actually, Dr. Mallard. Well, former doctor,” he corrects.

Without any hesitation. Jethro likes him already. “Sergeant Gibbs. Former trunk.”

That’s when Dr. Mallard finally looks to him, paying little attention to the scrapes on his face. “Ah,” he replies. Gibbs can’t help to notice he looks just a little amused.

“I owe you a drink,” Jethro says.

“Well, that depends,” Mallard intercedes immediately. “How do you feel about scotch?”

“I’d feel better about bourbon.”

“Sold.”

Smiling, Gibbs reaches forward to shake the other man’s hand. They reflect each other’s expression - Dr. Mallard pleased for a free drink, and Gibbs just happy to be out of that trunk. “It’s the least I could do, considering your car was probably totaled-”

“Jethro!”

Oh no. Gibbs and his rotten luck was about to rub off on you.

He hadn’t even prepared anything to say. Hadn’t thought of a special way to ease your worries because Gibbs has been too caught up with the NIS agent and giving his statement. So when he looks over Mallard’s shoulder, watching as you march up to him with wide eyes, Gibbs visibly winces. “Hey. First of all, I’m okay. Second-”

“How could you possibly be okay?” Your eyes were immediately focused on the red scrape on his forehead - right now, he figures you’re expecting the worst. “This is serious, Jethro. How do you think I would’ve felt if I got a call saying you were dead? I know you like to think you’re big and bad, but-”

“Have you met Dr. Mallard?” Gibbs immediately turns your attention to the Scotsman in the bowtie, who immediately greets you with a tight smile once you face him. “He’s the one who saved me. Kind of.”

“Only by sheer stupidity, believe me.” Mallard reaches out a hand, and after a moment, you take his. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

You let out a tiny sigh, seeming to Gibbs like you were winding down, now that you’re sure he was okay. “Thank you, Doctor. As you can tell,” you snap your eyes to Jethro, “he gets himself into trouble, a lot.”

Gibbs says nothing, now that the eyes of four different people are on him. He shifts his weight awkwardly, reaching out to grip your arm and pull you closer. And to really suck up to you, he leans over to press a kiss against your temple - he hopes that’ll be enough of an ‘I’m sorry’ for now. “Well, the Doctor’s gotta give his statement so I think we outta let him,” Gibbs says, hoping to turn the attention off of himself.

“Yes, of course,” Dr. Mallard agrees. Gibbs is grateful - up until Mallard faces you again with a smile. “Though, you should most definitely join us for a drink. It’ll be on his tab, and you’ll be there to keep him out of trouble.”

For a moment, Gibbs feels almost defensive. He’s about to speak up, but before he can say anything, he sees you nod your head. Even worse, you’re smiling. As if agreeing with Mallard that Jethro needs watching over.

Though, you’re smiling now. Maybe it’s not so bad.

-

It’s late. And the coffee doesn’t seem to be working anymore.

Gibbs had training for staying up all night. There’s been times when he’d gone three days with only a couple hours of sleep. But even that would’ve been preferable to sitting at a table, staring at files and papers, and listening to Dr. Mallard’s mumbling.

“It doesn’t make any sense...we’ve got to be missing something...”

Yeah. No kidding.

Gibbs rubs his eyes with a long sigh. He’s tempted to just call it a night and try again in the morning when he and Mallard are rested up. But Jethro stays - much too stubborn to walk away, even if it’s past midnight.

He has his chin propped up on his hand, fighting the alluring close of his eyes, by the time Jethro hears the front door close and your footsteps against the wood floor. “You guys are still awake?”

“Yeah,” Gibbs mumbles.

“We’re nearly finished,” Dr. Mallard says - he’s slightly more awake, but not by much.

“Right,” you reply. Jethro recognizes the disbelief in your voice. It’s the same tone you use with him a lot. “Well, are you two hungry?”

Coffee is the only sustenance he’s had all night. At the mention of food, Jethro looks over. And a grease-stained paper bag has never looked so amazing. “Is that…”

“Just some burgers from a diner. Not many places are open this late, so it was a bit of a drive.” You approach with the food, and Jethro stands to take the bag from your hands. And you’re smiling at him - looking tired, but still so sweet and soft and it immediately relieves the ache of exhaustion from Gibbs.

You drove all around town to bring him and Mallard some food. He didn’t deserve you.

“You didn’t have to,” Jethro says. Though, he handles the burgers like an injured puppy. “We got stuff here…”

“Don’t be ridiculous, man.” Dr. Mallard stands as well, taking the bag from Jethro and opening it up to retrieve his burger. “It’s not right to downplay the generosity of your partner. Try thanking her.”

Gibbs narrows his eyes at the other man, but his hunger wears down his stubbornness. The burgers smell fucking amazing, and Dr. Mallard is right.

He looks back to you, steps in closer, and leans down to press a kiss to your cheek. Your skin is cold from the night air - Gibbs feels bad that you went through the trouble. “Thanks. We appreciate it,” he says lowly. If Mallard weren’t here, Gibbs might’ve dragged you to bed. Warmed you up and thanked you in his own favorite way.

He notices your flush. Maybe you picked up on his own personal thoughts, somehow.

So Gibbs looks away, reaching out to retrieve his own burger before the doctor notices anything. And you clear your throat, smiling at the both of them while backing up. “Well, enjoy the food. I think I’m gonna go get some sleep. Try not to stay up all night, you two!”

A smirk comes over Jethro’s lips as he falls back down into his chair, and he doesn’t notice Mallard watching him until Gibbs is just about to take a big bite out of his burger. His teeth are on the bun when his eyes flicker up. “Wha’?” He asks hotly.

Dr. Mallard simply shakes his head, taking his seat and moving his files aside to make room for the burger you brought him. “Nothing. It’s just that...she’s a keeper.”

Jethro didn’t need some Scot to tell him that.

-

“Keep looking out here! I’ll check inside!”

Jethro didn’t bother yelling out an acknowledgement. He took off in the other direction, letting Dr. Mallard make his way into the dark, silent building by himself. Maybe if his heart weren’t pounding so fast or if he weren’t so fucking angry and scared and worried, Gibbs would be smart and think about Mallard’s safety.

After all, if these scumbags had the balls to take you, what’s to stop them from killing him?

Jethro doesn’t think about that, right now. His shoes pound against the pavement, swinging his flashlight around wildly. The parking lot is empty and pitch black - the shine of the flashlight barely does anything to cut through the darkness. He tries to stem his breathing and silence his heartbeat; just in case you’re crying out for him.

He hears nothing. The taunting hoot of an owl, but that’s it.

This is his fault, of course. Everything is his fault. Maybe if he just left the case alone and let those agents deal with it, you wouldn’t be missing and he wouldn’t be running around trying to find you. Dr. Mallard tried calming him down and reminding him that they’re trying to get these bastards off the streets for this very reason.

Doesn’t seem worth it, though. Not when it comes to you.

Jethro takes a few more steps, panting hard, still straining his eyes against the blackness. His grip on the flashlight is so tight, his fingers start to hurt. Maybe you’re not even here. Maybe they got it wrong. Maybe they missed something-

There. On the far end of the parking lot. Something reflects the light of his flashlight, and it’s too big to be anything but a vehicle.

Immediately, Gibbs takes off again. His shoes barely hit the concrete with how fast he’s running, and when he finally reaches the car, he shines the light inside. Finding empty seats, Jethro’s stomach drops.

That is, until his eyes find the trunk.

Jethro calls your name as he comes around to the hitch. His breath is stuck in his lungs, and he barely even registers the light tapping from inside the trunk before he yanks it up.

You flinch at the sudden bright light. Hands coming up to shield your face, balling yourself up tighter. Gibbs immediately notices little red lines around your wrists. Notices the little tears and scuffs on your clothes. He shakes with something mixed with rage and relief.

“Hey, hey, you’re okay,” Jethro breathes out. He tucks the flashlight under his arm to reach out for you. His hand on your arm seems to calm you - it lets you know that you’re safe and he’s got you and everything is okay now. You peek out from behind your eyes, cheeks wet from tears but they’re not wet enough to loosen the tape strapped to your mouth.

Jethro reaches out instantly to pull it off. He’s slow, gentle, and as soon as your lips are visible, you suck in a deep breath. “Jethro…”

“I’m here. You’re okay now.”

He tries his best to hide the tremor of his hands as Gibbs takes his knife out and cuts the rope off your wrists and ankles. These bastards really went all the way - taking you and terrorizing you just to get to him and Mallard. He’d make sure they paid.

As soon as you’re freed, your arms are wrapped tight around his shoulders, face pushed against his chest and sniffling. The flashlight is obscured, but Jethro doesn’t need to see the harsh tears staining your cheeks. It’s bad enough to hear your little whimpers of his name, and the most he can do is hug you back and murmur out comforting words.

Eventually, you pull away. Still leaning on him, not even pulling yourself out of the trunk yet, but wanting to see his face. “It happened so fast,” you tell him, voice small. Jethro frowns as he fits his hand against your cheek - there’s a bruise there that concerns him. “And they were saying how you and Dr. Mallard were getting so close, and I was insurance, and I didn’t know if you’d find me, and-”

“Hey, I’ll always find you, okay?” His thumb caresses over your cheek, mindful of the purple bump there. “I’m sorry. This is my fault. You shouldn’t have gotten caught up in this. I should’ve protected you better.”

Your eyes are wide and frightened, but the way your eyebrows quirk together slightly tells him that you probably had something to say. Probably to negate what he’s said because he knows you don’t like when he says things like that. Blaming himself for things he can’t control.

Instead, Jethro leans in to desperately press his lips against yours. The kiss tastes like salty tears and a hint of blood but you hold onto his jacket so tight that he doesn’t even think about if the kiss might hurt.

He was worried. You were scared. He just wants to kiss you.

And even the sound of Dr. Mallard calling his name from across the parking lot isn’t enough to break it.

-

“She’s fine, right? That’s what the doctors said?”

“That’s what I said,” Mallard tells him, voice tight. But there’s an empathetic look that helps calm Gibbs down a bit. “I assure you, I wouldn’t lie about her condition. I checked her over myself - the worst of it is only the rope burns on her wrists.”

Gibbs breathes a little easier. It’s been a wild couple days and it feels like the first deep breath he’s taken since.

“I assume you’d want to see her.”

Jethro nods his head once, brow furrowing together. He’d done enough waiting.

Dr. Mallard smirks before he turns and walks with Gibbs down to your room. He knows it’ll be hard, seeing you laid up in the white hospital sheets. It was hard enough pulling you from the trunk of the car and sitting with you until the ambulance came. Hard enough having to put you on the back burner to finish what he and Mallard started. The guilt was still there, of course. He knows you don’t blame him, but it’s not enough.

Gibbs feels a nudge against his arm, and he looks over to find Dr. Mallard watching him. “You should be happy,” he points out.

“I am.”

“I hope you’ll be a better liar once we get in there.” Gibbs scoffs and looks away, but the doctor isn’t done. “You’re fortunate it wasn’t any worse. With the men we were dealing with-”

“Yeah, I know, doc. They coulda killed her, or worse. And it would’ve been my fault because I wasn’t smart enough to think ahead and protect her.” Jethro turns back to Mallard, and he doesn’t bother to hide his scowl. “Is that what you want to hear?”

“Yes. It is,” he replies boldly. Fucking of course. Gibbs is tempted to walk off before Mallard's gaze turns more sympathetic. “But that’s not what she wants to hear. So better to get it all out right now so you can’t dump all those guilty feelings on someone who’s already been through enough.”

He hadn’t thought of it that way.

Jethro’s eyes drop. Mallard was right, of course. It pissed him off to admit it, but Gibbs probably would’ve gone in there and apologized for something you didn’t really want to relive. Another case of him not thinking.

Dr. Mallard pats him on the shoulder. When Gibbs looks up, he motions to your room with his head. “Well, let’s get a move on. I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you.”

And Jethro will be glad to see you, too.

He wastes no time reaching your door, and he carefully opens it but can’t help poking his head in just as soon as he can. Gibbs doesn’t quite know what to expect, and even with Mallard peeking in from over his shoulder, he feels like he should be walking on his toes.

But the image of you sitting up in bed with a smile proves him wrong.

“Hey! You’re here!”

Jethro doesn’t reply. He just smirks and revels in his relief that you’re actually okay.

“Of course, we are!” Mallard replies, moving past Gibbs to approach your bedside. “We wanted to tell our partner about the outcome of our little investigation, didn’t we, Gibbs?”

Jethro’s eyes move away from your bruised face, glancing to the doctor before nodding once. “Yeah. Bastards got caught trying to leave the state. They got ‘em at the border,” he tells you. Though, he can’t keep his eyes from wandering. Your arms, once so soft, are marred with bandages and bruises. Jethro reminds himself to breathe.

“But obviously, we were also worried about you,” Dr. Mallard adds on. His tone is softer, this time. And as Gibbs moves past him to take the seat by your bed, he continues. “You’ve got nothing to fear. They can’t ever hurt you again.”

Jethro reaches out to take your hand, and you squeeze his right back. Dammit, Mallard was so good with that heart-to-heart stuff. It never really occurred to Gibbs to put your mind at ease, like he had. He’d just been so angry and guilty and worried - well, it goes to show how much more you deserve than him.

“Yeah, I know.” Your voice is light. A little hoarse. The sound of it makes Jethro tighten his grip.

“He’s right,” Gibbs speaks up. And when you turn to look at him, he makes sure his face is hard and determined. Not as shaky as he feels. “I’m never gonna let something like that happen again. I promise.”

“Yeah,” you respond. “I know.”

Your smile grows. Just a little, because of the bruises. But it prompts one on Jethro’s face, and as his chest gets a bit tight, he softly lifts your hand up. The bandages cover up the ugly rope burns around both your wrists - they’ll go away in a few weeks. Still, he places a soft kiss on top the bandage. Just to help you heal a little faster.

-

If it were up to Gibbs, he would’ve taken you right home and let you rest. And personally, after all the bullshit, he really just wanted a quiet night with you and a couple glasses of bourbon. And no Dr. Mallard.

Things never usually go as planned for him. A night at the bar is in order to celebrate.

Though, Jethro can’t complain much. You’re seated on his lap, and he’s free to wrap his arms around your waist and tug you close and glare at anyone giving you a second look. Call him protective, but he’s just being safe.

And he let you and Mallard chat away about the case. Mostly about how the NIS agents took all the credit for bringing them in.

“It’s unfair,” you say crossly, glancing back at Jethro before looking to the doctor again. “Do they know how much danger you guys put yourselves in? Or what I went through? And they get the credit?”

Jethro’s grip on your waist tightens. He smirks when he feels your hand settle on his arm.

“It’s not really about the credit,” Mallard replies, leaning back in his chair with a shrug. “For me, I’m just happy those bastards won’t be out terrorizing any more innocent people. I looked into some of their victims - poor unfortunate souls who wouldn’t have been missed by anybody. No friends. No family. It’s a real shame.”

The table grows quiet, even as the bar ambience around them is still as loud as ever. You end up leaning back against Jethro; likely needing his comfort.

And he readily gives it. Because you so easily could’ve been one of those victims. Not unknown without friends or family, like the others. But still gone. Still ripped from Jethro’s arms.

“Would’ve missed you,” he finds himself mumbling.

Gibbs didn’t intend for you to hear. He was counting on Dr. Mallard keeping your attention. But it seems like the music and the chatter wasn’t enough to keep his mindless words from your ears. Because as soon as he presses a light kiss against the ball of your shoulder, you’re twisting your head around to smile at him.

His eyes immediately dart away, because he knows the kind of smile you’re wearing.

“Have a little too much to drink, Jethro? You’re getting all affectionate.”

“Yes,” Mallard speaks up, happy to change the subject. “I think he’s gone on to his third glass of scotch!”

-

It’s one o’clock in the morning. Gibbs kept checking the time.

He wouldn’t say anything about it, though. Not when you were having fun and relaxing after that whole ordeal.

Still, Jethro couldn’t help a little sigh when he finally stepped out of the bar. He holds the door open for you and Ducky - a nickname you’ve given the Scot that took the hold of liquor to stick.

“Well, that was a jolly time. Been a while since I’ve had a sip with companions I could tolerate a conversation with. I’ve found there’s very few people in America who want to sit down for a drink in a pub…”

“Bar,” Jethro says. He hears your soft snort of laughter from behind.

“Bar,” Ducky repeats with a smile only a drunk man would wear. It brings to mind when the doctor had been teasing Gibbs about drinking too much. And just as he goes to sit down on the curb of the street, you’re right there to help him down. Preventing the intoxicated doctor from falling straight on his ass and patting his shoulder once he’s leaning against a stop sign.

Jethro smirks at the sight, shaking his head lightly as he approaches the street to flag down a taxi. Yeah, it was late. It’s been a trying couple of days. But he can’t admit that he didn’t have a little fun. Ducky attempting to teach you some Scottish drinking songs was surely a highlight.

His hand waves up at an oncoming taxi, and thankfully, it notices him and veers over. “Alright, doc. Time to get you home. You know the address of your hotel?”

Gibbs comes over to help you pull Ducky back up, but the other man just regards him with a huff and a frown. “Of course I do, Marine. I’ve got a very good memory, you know. Like a Bottlenose Dolphin. Do you know it’s theorized that dolphins have an even longer memory than elephants?” Ducky stumbles a little over his own feet, almost falling into the street in front of the taxi. But Jethro catches him before he can fall. “Imagine that: a whole metaphor undone because of a single study…”

“That’s very interesting, Ducky,” you tell him lightly, a giggle edging your voice.

Jethro pulls the door open, intent on helping Mallard in so you don’t strain yourself doing it. But the doctor puts a hand on the roof of the cab, balancing himself so he can turn to face you. He’s reflecting your easy smile, and Jethro can’t help but narrow his eyes as he watches the doctor lean over to take hold of your hand.

Is Mallard some kind of drunken flirt? Gibbs fixes his jaw.

“You’re a very charming person, and I do look forward to working with you again. I pray it’s sooner rather than later,” Ducky says. And with no hesitation, he presses a chaste kiss against your knuckles - still a bit tender, but you don’t look as if it bothers you.

Which is why Jethro is tempted to just shove Mallard into the taxi and send him on his way.

Granted, the kiss was brief. He releases your hand and turns to Gibbs, whom he gives a brief nod to. “Same to you, Marine.” And with that, Dr. Mallard ungraciously climbs into the backseat of the taxi, and Gibbs can tell he’ll be chatting the driver’s ear off the whole way. His voice fades as the car drives off.

“That was fun.”

Immediately, Jethro’s eyes leave the cab to look at you. “The drinking, or that kiss?” He asks maybe a bit too sternly.

Your eyes go wide in surprise, lips slowly quirking upward as you gaze up at him without a word. And Jethro winces inwardly at the can of worms he likely opened without even meaning to. He turns away, intent to find another cab for the two of them. But you’re not ready to drop it. “Well, I don’t know. Which did you enjoy the most?”

“Geez,” he mumbles. “Ya know, we should’ve just stayed home. You’re really in no condition to be out and about.”

You don’t reply. Instead, your arms appear right around his waist, closing tight and leaning up against his back. He’s thankful for the position, at least, so you couldn’t see the smirk on his lips. And when Jethro places his hand on your arm, he’s careful to avoid the bandages. He wants to touch your skin, anyway.

“Y’know, Jethro, if you wanna kiss me, you don’t have to wait until after Ducky does it.”

[writing-in-april]

Helping Hands

Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: After a bad case Spencer needs help shaving after getting injured, he gets help from the least likely person to help in his life.

A/N: Day two of my 750 follower celebration is here! This was totally supposed to be a blurb and ended up being so much long lol. Thank you @imagining-in-the-margins for this idea and letting me write it! And thanks to @spencers-dria for helping me out as always! This fic wasn’t originally going to be Gender Neutral I just ended up writing it that way on accident which is cool, I want my blog to be as inclusive as possible! I’ve had someone check it over for pronoun mistakes but please let me know if you spot any! This is also my first time writing in second person for Spencer!

Warnings: 18+, Enemies to lovers, Knife kink (use of a straight razor), Dry fucking, Humiliation, ONE slight nick to the skin- there’s just a very small bit of blood

Main Masterlist Word count: 1.68k

Your friendship with Spencer was shaky at best, the truth was you two were barely able to work together without biting each other’s heads off. It’s not that you wanted to butt heads with him almost every day, but when he picked apart everything you said constantly you always felt the need to bite back.

Emily just had to put you as roommates for this case so you guys could ‘work out your issues.’ Of course the case then ended up becoming one of your longest cases all year. The tension between you and Spencer ran high throughout the entire case, the petty arguments grew in rate as the team got less and less sleep each day. The case combined with the sleeping arrangements was definitely making you feel miserable.

Unfortunately these hellish two weeks didn’t even end with a completely good outcome. We had caught the unsub, but not before one of your own had ended up injured. Spencer had been securing the perimeter around the suspect’s house when the suspect (who ended up being the unsub) attacked him. Luckily, you hadn’t been that far away from him and were able to help him apprehend the man. You may butt heads with him almost every working day, but he was still a part of your team. You would never want him to be seriously hurt or worse. His knuckles ended up getting bruised and bloodied from his unexpected scuffle with the unsub today although he insisted he was fine.

The sight you were looking at now directly contradicted his words. His fingers were shaking badly as he tried to move his straight razor along his jaw that was coated in shaving cream. When he let out a frustrated grunt when he couldn’t get the right angle you decided to try and lend a helping hand. He seemed to get even angrier when you walked into the hotel’s bathroom, this wasn’t new however, he always seemed to get more agitated when he sensed your presence.

“Let me help you.” You snapped while reaching forward to grab the razor, your movements were in stark contrast to your words, only doing that softly as to not cut the both of you.

“Why do you want to help me?” He snapped back with just as much bite in his tone and jerked his hand away so you could not reach the razor.

“Does it matter? You need help and I’m offering to help. So sit down and let me help.”  The real reason that you wanted to help didn’t have to be known by Spencer, he didn’t have to know that you felt guilty. His injuries were from no fault of your own however, you could not help a little bit of guilt pool in the bottom of your stomach. You may not like him very much, but again you did not want to see him hurt.

He finally acquiesced to your request sitting down on the edge of the tub that just had enough of a ledge so he could sit rather comfortably. You reached out and gestured towards the razor letting out a little sigh of relief when he handed it to you, glad that he was finally letting you help.

The handle of the razor was simple in design with no ornaments adorning it and it was made of a dark wood, perhaps mahogany. The simple design of the handle and blade did not mean that it was inexpensive, the weight in your hand alone was a testament of how finely made it probably was. You suspected it might have been one of the only things Spencer splurged his money on.

Soaping up his cheeks again, you then straddled his thighs so you could get as close as possible to him. He squeaked a little in surprise at your sudden willingness to be close to him. In all honesty, you didn’t really want to be that close to him, but you had promised to help him, this just was the only way you could get the correct angles.

Besides the initial squeak the fell from his lips Spencer had become strangely quiet as you got to work shaving off his stubble.

His silence was then replaced by something else, the inability to sit still. Each time you started to scrap the razor against his jaw his hips shuffled under you, making it extremely difficult to get a close enough shave.

“Stop squirming.” He of course felt the need to again not listen to you and he continued to squirm underneath you. You ran your fingers through his hair then tugging on the stands to crane his neck backwards so you could get full access to the underside of his jaw. He defiantly squirmed again, causing you to falter with the razor again, this time accidentally nicking the underside of his jaw.

Instead of hissing and pulling away from you would expect; Spencer threw you for a loop when he let out a loud moan while jutting his hips up into your own. A look of mortification came over Spencer’s face at his actions, he looked like he wanted to be anywhere else, but with your body straddling him he couldn’t quite escape your grasp so easily.

You weren’t going to lie, Spencer was an attractive man, your favorite part of his looks being his fluffy locks and the scruff he left behind after shaving. You weren’t going to pass up the opportunity of having an attractive man underneath you and begging. Experimentally you reached up with your free hand to brush up against the small nick that had only let out just a little drop of blood. Pushing down slightly on it you then rolled your hips to grind against his hardening cock in his slacks. His response to your actions pleased you, his slacks becoming more strained and another moan left his lips, this one much more high pitched.

“Are you ok with this? I won’t be gentle.”

“Yes, please do whatever you want.” You were pleasantly surprised how quickly a plea fell from his lips. It was going to be so easy to ruin him.

“Tell me if you want me to stop. You may infuriate me, but I do not want to make you uncomfortable.” He nodded quickly in understanding before tentatively moving his hands to rest on your hips lightly to make sure you were ok with his touch and so that his hands didn’t suffer from any unnecessary pain.

You were right, it was extremely easy to ruin him. It only took a few short minutes of grinding your hips into his own before you could tell he was getting a little close to his release.

“Is this all it takes for you to get off? That’s a little pathetic.” The humiliating words only made Spencer’s moans louder though at this point they had devolved into high pitched pitiful whimpers. You were glad he was keen on the idea of some light humiliation and decided to continue with some more harsh words, “I haven’t even gotten a chance to use it anywhere near any more exciting places yet. You’re so needy, Spencer.” The evil smirk that made its way onto your face at the thought of getting to use the razor in more, exhilarating places, made Spencer visibly gulp hard.

You shifted a little forward which brought more pleasure to you, enough to push you to teeter on the edge. As you felt your release begin to wash over you surged forward to mark up Spencer’s neck with a hickey to go along with the other slight mark you had left. The rocking of your hips sped up as you worked yourself through your blissful release. Spencer may have been one of the most infuriating people you knew, but you couldn’t deny that even with a few swirls of your hips together he gave you a stronger orgasm then most men ever had. After a few gasps of your breath into his neck after your release you began to focus on his own. You could just leave him hanging and force him to take a cold shower to alleviate the straining in his pants, though you couldn’t deny how good he had been for you.

“Beg me. Beg me to let you finish.” Carding your fingers through his hair once more you yanked hard so you could get to catch a glimpse of his gorgeous neck again. You brought the razor up to rest at the underside of his jaw close to the previous cut you had accidentally given him.

“Please!” Even though his begging was only one word, you were satisfied with how desperate he sounded for you. You had completely ruined him without even taking off a single article of clothing.

“Cum for me Spencer.” As soon as the words of permission fell from your lips, his hips started to meet yours with more vigor. His groans came impossibly louder as he neared his finish, so you surged forward to capture his lips with your own for the first time. Immediately you slipped your tongue into the cavern of his mouth, swallowing all of the noises that tried to escape. He rocked his hips forward once, twice, three times before feeling the front of his slacks dampen with his own release.

When you had both calmed down and slightly processed what you had both indulged in you separated from him to help clean up the nick on his jaw and to grab him a pair of sweatpants to change into. You returned to help him finish shaving making sure to leave the little bit of scruff you liked. As you finished he moved to rub slight circles into your hip, you didn’t let him do it for very long until you made sure that it wasn’t hurting his hands too much. You were both extremely content with your current position. Maybe he wasn’t as infuriating as you once thought. In any case you had enjoyed lending him your helping hands, maybe you could help him again if he was willing.

——

Tag list (message me if you want to be added):

Spencer Reid/CM taglist- @calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss

Sub!Spencer taglist- @thatsonezesty13- tags are not working for you for some reason!!

[yesimwriting]

The Problem With Light

a/n i literally did not mean to write this, i was working on requests and then my mind was like ‘remember that lowkey love triangle kaz brekker x reader x darkling thing you always say you're going to write’ so yeah,, here we are :)),, two longer fics are coming!! 

- 

Summary: Kaz changes his plans after meeting the Sun Summoner and Kirigan teeters on a line the reader isn’t sure she wants. 

-- 

Chapter One: The Conflicts of Prayer 

--

Narrator. 

--

Kaz knows a lot about patience. He knows how to bear the weight that the passage of time thrusts onto one's shoulder. He knows how to cultivate the seeds that he sews. If he wasn’t like this he’d stand no chance at one day avenging the ghost that refuses to leave him. 

But Jesper is almost an hour late. Kaz has been standing in a dimly hit branch of a relatively important hallway in the Little Palace. Jesper was supposed to come while in disguise to bring Kaz his new disguise and his newly repaired cane. Kaz’s hand flexes again, wishing he could feel the detailed head of one of his few comforts beneath the broken-in leather of his gloves. A bitter part of him claims that if Jesper isn’t injured once he arrives, he’ll be injured once Kaz gets his hand on his cane. 

He shifts his weight, the pain in his leg starting to take its toll. The slight relaxation disappears once he hears footsteps. Kaz turns, ignoring the ache the motion brings him. His entire body hardens, preparing for a fight. He doesn’t look like he belongs here yet and there’s nowhere to run. The person crossing his path will need to be taken care of--knocked out or something more permanent. 

The person only pauses to look at him when Kaz angles himself forward in a fighting stance. He watches the person, a girl, shifts back slightly, eyes wide and defensive. She’s a mess--hair disheveled, nose slightly bleeding, and dirty kefta. Her appearance isn’t why Kaz finds himself frozen, not because of the girl’s appearance but because she’s her. Y/n l/n. The Sun Summoner. 

“Sorry! I--” She almost winces, but then her eyebrows furrow together. “You’re not supposed to be here.” Kaz’s jaw locks. He could take her physically, but for all he knows she could raise her arms and blind him permanently with her light. “That’s okay,” she breathes, something in her looking a little relieved, “I’m not supposed to be here either.” Kaz watches her oddly, wondering if her trustingness is a trap in itself. “I won’t tell if you don’t.” 

It’s a joke. That much is clear by the gentle uptilt of her lips. It’s as if she doesn’t know she’s bleeding and looks like she just ran out of a fight. Her expression doesn’t harshen at his silence. Kaz finds himself disliking that. It’s not enough that she can summon the sun, she also has to seem like it.

He needs to say something. Jesper was supposed to be watching her and now he’s not here and she is. The plan is unraveling and if he talks she’ll stay here or reveal where she’s going to next. That’s the kind of thing he needs to salvage this. 

His lips part, but he’s not sure what to say. “You’re not supposed to be here?” 

She shakes her head once. “No--I’m supposed to be in personal training, but I kind of got my ass kicked in group training and my pride needs a break.” The admission leaves her sheepishly. “It’s probably for the best, becoming a Sun Summoner overnight has given me a bit of an ego.” She sighs, the sound strangely light. “Then again, I kind of need an ego for what’s wanted from me and if one bad fight is all it takes to kill it then it’s not strong enough, considering--” Kaz tenses as she cuts herself off. “Sorry, I’m rambling, we both have places to be.” Hope presses into him stiffly. She’s going to say it. “Where--where are you supposed to be?” She shifts back slightly. “Not that I have to know, but you’re not from here, and--” 

Kaz steps forward, pushing through the stiffness in his leg. Y/n’s gaze drops. Kaz’s discomfort worsens, someone like her doesn’t need to know his weaknesses. “Are you here for me to pray for you?” She scratches her arm, “I-I can, but I tell everyone I pray for I don’t consider myself a Saint.” 

The honesty of the comment twisted something in Kaz’s thoughts. “Yes,” he lies, partially distracted by the beginnings of a scheme. He can feel Inej’s future anger as he lies again, “I’m here for prayer.” 

“I spent so long rambling,” she says in a tone that implies apology. 

He nods once, wondering how someone could  be that apologetic and survive. The weight of such power must strangle someone like her. That could be a good thing. Someone like her must be spiraling with all this change and sudden strength. Maybe this could be simpler than an abduction plan, a few choice words and he could convince the girl to come with him. He could get her to believe there was something she needed to do in Ketterdam. If she went there willingly, things could be much more efficient. 

Inej won’t like this, and for this to work he’ll have to think of the right way to present the plan to her. He weighs his options and the details as y/n whispers words with her eyes closed and hands folded together. The words he can make out are kind. He expected that, but what he didn’t expect was the earnestness of them. 

She means each part of her prayers. Kaz regrets noticing that. 

“I can’t promise my prayers do anything,” she finishes, voice returning to its normal volume, “but I hope you get what you need.” 

What he wants is within his grasp now that he knows what to do. “I’m sure good things are near.” It’s the most honest he’s been since her arrival. 

Y/n nods once, “I should go before my reprieve costs me more than it's worth.” 

He watches her disappear down the hallway. Her movements are light, calm and unweighted. 

“Boss,” Jesper’s appearance is brash, “I’ve spent this entire time looking for her. She was in training like she was supposed to, took an awul blow, delivered an even meaner one, and then disappeared.”

Kaz tries to imagine the same hands that were just so neatly folded in prayer as fists. “You just missed her.” He doesn’t wait for Jesper’s reaction, he just takes his newly repaired cane back. “And we’re changing the plan.” 

--

Y/n.

--

I tried going to Baghra. I told someone who believed my prayers meant something that I was going back to training. But then I remembered her words from last time and the shame I felt when I could not create light. I haven’t summoned light once without Kirigan’s touch. 

I’m the Sun Summoner--I am the person that summons the sun by themselves. Kirigan and I aren’t the Sun Summoner together. I’m pathetic. And instead of trying to get better, I’m wandering the library because all anyone can talk about is the way Zoya punched me in the face. 

Baghra picked me apart when I looked shiny. I can’t imagine the kinds of comments she’d make if she saw me with a bloody nose and dead leaves in my hair. I’ll go tomorrow, once Genya fixes both my matted hair and cracked self esteem. 

For now, I have the one thing that’s always comforted me. My books. I wander the library, trying not to think of anything. Of Baghra, of Zoya, of the strange man in the hall. 

He seemed weighted by something. I always wish I could do more for those that ask for my prayer, but the longing is sharper now. I don’t know him, so it’s ridiculous to want to help him so badly, but my uselessness itches beneath my skin in a way I’m not used to. I don’t know why I feel more protective about this stranger than others. I’ve had people fall to my feet weeping, begging for me to save them. That hurt me, but the desire to help this one stranger burns in a way I’ve never felt before.  

“I don’t know why they don’t look for you here every time you disappear.” His voice is as soft and subtle as a shadow. “They’d save so much time.” 

I fight the urge to defensively grasp the first book I can reach. “You’re making it sound like I have a habit of vanishing in order to make a point.” My defense is weak. We both know that this isn’t the first time I ran away from something here. “Sometimes absence is just that.” 

“When you’ve waited for someone as long as I have, all absence is significant.” The words are not harsh but they should be. I don’t know how I could respond to that. 

He steps forward easily, as he always does. I keep myself still despite the way that warmth settles against my chest uncomfortably. I manage to hold onto my stillness even when he raises a hand, one gentle finger brushing above my top lip. I tense at his lingering touch. 

Kirigan turns his hand slowly, exposing the red on his fingertips. “How di--” 

“Training,” I interrupt quickly, “I promise I got a decent hit in as well.” 

When he nods, his expression is clearly weighted but I cannot interpret it. He almost always looks like that. I shouldn’t find anything about the man that stole me from everything I’ve ever known (even though he had good reason to do so) alluring, but I want to understand him. It’d feel like knowing a secret the rest of the world is desperate for. 

For a moment we just stand there, Kirigan closer than he’s ever been. Sometimes when he’s quiet I think he knows my secrets. All of mine. Even my curiosity about him. “I don’t doubt that.” 

At least he tries to be nice to me sometimes. It’s more than anyone else here can say. Except maybe Genya. “You don’t have to say that.” He knows it’s true. “Keep in mind you found me in the library, hiding from Baghra.” 

He hesitates. “No one likes training.”

“I think I’d find it tolerable if…” Can I say this to him? Admit the extent of my helplessness? He looks at me patiently, waiting for me to give something to him. “I’m the Sun Summoner--that’s supposed to be me. That’s supposed to be mine, and I can’t do it by myself.” 

The patheticness of my struggle hits me in full force. I drop my head as he weighs my words. “It’s in you,” he says it so surely I don’t think I could argue. 

I smile politely. “Thank you.” 

Kirigan reaches downwards, towards my wrist. He latches onto me so quickly I’m too surprised to back away. “Light,” he prompts like it really is that easy. 

I know I can do it with him, so I don’t see the point in showing it. “It doesn’t count if I get help.” 

“Y/n.” Sometimes I think his voice is softer when he speaks my name. 

I raise my hands, overlaying them, letting the hand that he touches make up the base of my cup. Reaching into myself, I search for the power beneath my skin. With him, that power seems to sit directly beneath the surface, desperate and greedy. I don’t call to it, instead I simply let it flow. The light bleeds from me, a sphere of blinding light bursts into my hands. It’s bright, burning, and desperate to escape my control. 

My mind clamps around the power tightly, restraining it without choking it out until the light in my hands is exactly as small as I want it to be. I hold it there, letting its warmth melt away all of the bad. I let it grow, the light illuminating a path I can barely see--a path in which I do not disappoint those that need to have faith in something and for some unknown reason decided to place it in me. I hold onto that feeling, and then I let the light disappear. 

I smile at my hands. The only good that’s come from this is the way the light makes me feel. “Y/n.” I look up at Kirigan, who’s showing me both of his palms. “That was you.” 

A feeling better than the light coils up my stomach and into my heart. I grin. I did it without him. I can do it without him. “That--how did you know that would work?” 

“I knew that you could do it, you just needed to see it.” 

Warmth fills me, light and easy. A little too light. I have to work at not reaching for him, not because I need to, but because I want to. “Thank you.” This time I mean it.

“Your gratitude is premature,” he warns, but nothing about it is harsh, “I’m here to send you back to training.” 

At least the thought of facing Baghra no longer devastates me. “There’s always a catch.” I smile, hoping he understands what he’s done for me. “But I think this time it may be worth it.” 

He almost smiles. “Tell me if you still feel that way after spending time with Baghra.” 

A fair warning. It’s more than I expect from him. “Will do.” 

Kirigan’s expression threatens to soften, but he turns away from me with a soft nod before I can try to decipher the look. I let him leave before disappearing down another hall, forcing myself to look for Baghra. I think of my interaction with both Kirigan and the stranger, at least Baghra won’t be the weirdest part of my day

[remsmoonlight]

— title : don’t leave me lonely

— word count : 3 k words

— pairing : daryl dixon x reader

— summary : when the protective instinct that runs deep within daryl you can’t take how much of a child he treats you, only when words spoken in anger do you both see the truth.

— warnings : swearing, one instance of blood description, vague mentions of daryl’s past and just some general angst

I've heard you're taking requests, soo, Could you please write something with Daryl and 20+62 from prompt list?

Thank you in advance and have a nice day ❤️

        ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　requested   ? yes !     /   requests are open   *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

 prompt list : 20. “Those things you said yesterday… Did you mean them?” &&             “ After everything we’ve been through, you still don’t think that I love you?”

Pale grey pavement is being painted with the blood of the walkers you had to slaughter in order to survive, to make it back to your family. You dare not speak a word, already predicting a storm awaiting to drench you in its anger that currently forms within the man you slowly began to love. You can’t pinpoint exactly where you began to have these thoughts, experience these feelings, as it hasn’t been an easy road. Loving him is not uncomplicated, the image he shows the world is harsh, though his actions speak louder than his words.

You’re stuck following him and Aaron, the man sparing apologetic glances back every few metres. He has nothing to apologise for, he was simply a bystander to a very awkward encounter between the two.

“ the hell y’doing out here? “

For a moment, your world stops. You hadn’t expected to see anyone out in the secluded area of the greenery that surrounds Alexandria, the whole idea of going from fighting for your life every day to pretending the world isn’t dead is not a pill that is easy to swallow. A potentially horrid coping mechanism, but you have to remember what it’s like out there, to not be protected by steel walls. To pretend you still have to sleep with one eye open, if anything was to ever happen to anyone you love because you allowed your guard to be demolished by a faux safety you wouldn’t be able to forgive yourself.

A timid smile arises on your expression, almost apologetic. You shrug in response to Daryl’s question.

“ y’got no brain now? “ stomping towards you, his eyes burning with outrage and alarm, he doesn’t trust this new situation with you in it.

“ not here, Daryl. “

Trouble has a way of finding you, the unfamiliarity of everything touching the fear that he prays to stay dormant within the walls of Alexandria. At least with you confined to the area he can see clearly, he doesn’t have to imagine the worst possible outcomes to prepare himself for the inescapable of what always happens.

He can’t lose you, he can’t tell you either.

Eyebrows raise in shock over the suddenness of his heated words, never once had he spoken to you in such a way. Even on the rare occasion he was genuinely annoyed with something you had done. You force your features to stay neutral, not wanting a war in front of Aaron, considering you haven’t known him for long.

A mirror image is the displeasure that has stewed within you, the very same of the Dixon man you had shared the road with. Who does he think he is? You ask yourself, that outburst was for no reason and you know it. It’s times like these that confuse you and your feelings for him.

Though you hear no footsteps behind you, you can feel Daryl’s presence stalking you closely, but you pay no mind. Not in any mood to talk, afraid for what you will say in anger.

A temper is something you control, though there are moments it wants to smash down your walls.

With a heavy breath set free into the air, you turn the handle of your home open, leaving it open for Daryl as you know it’s going to be a conversation he will wish to continue. For a rather quiet man, when he wants to, he can say a lot.

Turning to face him, you wet your lips to say something, hoping to calm him before the situation gets out of hand. Hoping to get an idea of why he is so irate, though your expression hardens ever so softly as you realise that he’s most likely going to continue on the tirade he began outside of the walls. Your heart thumps against your ribcage, almost rattling your entire being with anticipation. Being able to hold your own in conflict is something you are able to do, but it doesn’t mean it leaves no scars to litter your soul.

“ okay, so what was that out there, Daryl? “ your words are soft, almost to the tune of a whisper as you question him. Hoping to understand his point of view.

“ y’really gotta ask that? “

Your lips purse, you merely blink in his direction as you shift your weight from one foot to the other. Your heart is full of hurt as he treats you as nothing more than a stranger with the heat that coats his furious words that he hauls in your direction.

It confuses you incredibly how the day has gone to hell so swiftly, but you warn yourself about that. Assuming once dawn breaks that the day will bring something good for once, and not news of another tragedy. Even protected by the stereotypical image of a cookie cut American household can’t hold off death. No matter what, it gets its day.

“ yes, I do! “ you raise your voice, fighting the urge to close the distance. Knowing that he’d mistake it as you being on the offensive. “ I wasn’t doing anything except walking! “

“ yeh, an’ that’s what concerns me. “

A pause.

Nothing but the noises from the residents of this small town can be heard, the silence so deafening it almost obliterates your confusion. The room is so quiet that you even doubt that the two of you are even occupying it, the house feeling more and more cold with the seconds that slug by, it feeling that there’s no life to breathe a new warmth into it. Never has it felt so bare to be in that in that very moment than with the two of you ready to cut deep.

This is what he's pissed about? Before you even realise, you snort from disbelief. It’s something so small, so insignificant you can’t even believe it. Their new found safety has affected the group in many ways, but this has to be one of the strangest as you openly stare at his tense form.

“ seriously? “ you ask, refusing to believe he’s pushing this so intensely for that very reason.

“ y’finding that funny? “

“ yeah, because you’re acting like you’re my damned father. “ pointing a finger in his direction, you pace for a few fleeting seconds.

A closeness between you both has long since been acknowledged, but you’ve never divulged to him the true extent of your emotions. Sometimes you think he’s aware of what you feel, though late at night when you’re alone you realise that it may be better if he doesn’t. You wish you have the confidence to even share it with him, although the thought that blares in your ears warns you otherwise. Your heart couldn’t take another heartbreak, opting for his friendship rather than a cold shoulder born out of awkwardness.

Sometimes you’re sure he’s staring at you with a longing glint in his eye when you’re not paying attention, however you often chalk it up to hope. Never are you one to follow the signs, not wanting to be wrong. Your imagination cannot be crushed if it doesn’t have confirmation.

Hope can be cruel as it can be kind.

“ someone’s gotta, I can’t remember all the times I’ve had t’drag your ass outta trouble! “ his crossbow thuds as it’s dropped without a care, his face reddens as it twists and contorts. You haven’t seen him show this much rage since the Greene’s farm.

The day you first met him is permanently burnt into your brain, being half starved and dehydrated you thought you were hallucinating him. Unable to walk, your limbs weighed a ton under the exhaustion you felt under the punishing Georgian sun but there he was. Surrounded by the rays as if he was your very own guardian angel, but that idea had been put straight to bed as soon as you saw the outbursts from him to the other members of the group.

With the months that passed, you had trouble saying that was the same man you knew today. Less prone to rage, clearer about doing anything in his power to aid his family, though you can’t help but wonder if the old Daryl wants to break through the progress he has made so far.

“ and I never asked for that, Daryl. Why are you acting as if you’re my keeper? “

“ fine! it ain’t my problem if y’wanna be a selfish bitch. “

Causing hurt to the people he loves comes easy to Daryl. To wound deep when he’s scared is all he has ever learnt, to show love and affection was never afforded to him as a child, not even when he silently begged for it. Now, he was physically and mentally scarred, even these days were they still plaguing him like a never relenting ghost. He doesn’t want to hurt you, he hates seeing pain in your eyes, but he can’t convey his worry without fury over the idea of losing you.

He can’t imagine having to live a life where you’re not cracking a joke at the worst possible moment, or your selflessness that will surely one day cause you more harm than good. His breathing increases at the thought, his fists clenching, willing him to stay in place and not barge through the door without a second thought.

“ se - selfish? Daryl, you’re making sense! “

“ y’don’t care about anyone but y’self. Doin’ shit like that by y’self is only gonna get y’killed. All y’think about is you, not anyone left behind. “

“ after everything we’ve been through, you still don’t think that I love you? “ the fire you had once now leaves nothing but dying embers, defeat coating your words as tears shimmer in your eyes

Daryl doesn’t know how to react at your proclamation, the inner battle to stay in the lounge now lost. His mind is unable to warp the idea of you even entertaining the thought of becoming more than friends, never did he dream that the shield he’d built around himself could injure him more than the outside elements could.

Before he even realised it, he’s leaning down to pick up his crossbow and heading straight for the door. Paying no mind to you taking his departure as rejection and not self preservation.

“ if you think I’m gonna come back, I’ll make you wait a long time! “ you call out before slamming the door.

Hands are brought to your stomach, as if to stem the bleeding from a wound made deep into your torso, though it can’t curb the internal trauma you feel from Daryl ripping himself from your presence. You knew it was a bad idea to tell him your feelings, yet you could hardly stop yourself in the war of words between the two of you. Nothing is a big enough wish than to stop the pain that ignites your entire self, threatening to consume you entirely. Only now do you understand the true extent of your love for him, previously thinking it was little more than a crush, though this feels more. Especially mourning what could have been.

You retreat to your room, not even leaving to share dinner with your family. Afraid not if Daryl would show, but rather your ability to hold your composure when you feel as if you’re glass who’s moments are counting down by the second to shatter into nothing more than sharp fragments that will only slice others to ensure they bleed, to ensure they feel as bad as you do.

“ come on, you’ve got to get some air. “

A series of knocks interrupt your sleep, followed by the voice of who you recognise as belonging to Carol. You ignore her, not wanting to face anyone just yet. The trauma on your heart is still too fresh. However it matters not to Carol, for she simply does not take your silence as an answer, but rather as an invitation as she opens your door.

“ just leave me alone, please. “

“ the others are worried about you, so am I. “ she speaks, concern written all over her face as she steps forward closer to your bed, her frown becoming more and more prevalent.

“ let them be, I just want to sleep. “

“ you don’t have to talk to anyone, come down after breakfast. Just get some fresh air. “ Carol gently requests with a half smile blooming onto her features. If anything is certain, she wants to see you and Daryl work through the fog that currently locks you both away.

Leaving the bed, you groan to yourself. You’re not sure how much time has passed since Carol departed, but it has been long enough for your family to have also left the house to either explore more or two engage in their jobs. It’s something you send a silent thanks to the sky for, all you desire is solitude, with the sun etching its warmth onto your face. Opening the door, you see people going about their business with little regard for you, though you’re sure some of them must have heard the commotion the previous day.

You pay little mind to them though, more concerned on piecing together the broken pieces of your heart than anything else.

Sleep never once visited Daryl, never did it carry him off into a peaceful slumber. Though he can’t help but feel as if he deserves it, as payment for having to be the cause of the damage to you, being the reason you sobbed harder than he’d ever heard you. He’d waited outside that door, pushing himself to make things right, but never did the courage arise. Leaving him lonely once again.

Fuck this he curses himself mentally, this is going to be the one time an opportunity for happiness does not pass him by. Not once more, that was the last time he’d be nothing more than a witness.

Astonishment transforms his hardened expression as he comes to a stop, realising you’re already sitting on the porch next door with a blissfully peaceful air surrounding you. You don’t realise he’s there just yet, your eyes closed as you take in the sounds and smell of Alexandria, a distraction to what you feel. Daryl briefly wonders how he should go about patching things between the two of you, the situation an alien one to him. Fingers reach towards the cigarette packet concealed in his trouser pocket, with the barest of shaking from nerves.

Bringing it to his lips, the smoke is what alerts you to his being closing the distance. You can’t prevent the draining of colour from your face, not prepared from yet another interaction with the Dixon man so early in the morning.

“ I - uh, wanna say sorry. ‘Bout yesterday. “ Daryl apologises, with a regretful tone colouring his words with the most vibrancy he can muster.

Your gaze slips to the floor, watching the grass move ever so slightly with the breeze that wanders through. To forgive is in your nature and you sorely want to extend that forgiveness to him, but to do so after that exchange is a difficult thing.

“ thank you, I suppose. “ you shrug, your hands tying together as you try to make up for a lack of words.

“ I ain’t expectin’ y’to forgive me or nothin’, I just want y’to know. “

You sigh to yourself, you know in your heart he means what he says, you hate that you’ve been this mad at him.. at each other this much, even for a few hours. People and bonds are a rare blessing in this world, and you know it’s better to keep them close than to allow them to burn in the fire of hatred and impulse, to leave them nothing more than ashes ⎯ remnants to revere of an age that has since past.

“ Daryl, I do forgive you. I’m just trying to figure out how we move past this. “ you reply with sorrow, your eyes closing, a crease intensifying between your brows. It hurts to even speak into existence.

“ those things you said yesterday ... did you mean them? “

Bewilderment forces your eyes open, your head snapping to meet his figure that still stands. Here you are preparing yourself to move past Daryl, no matter how hard that would be, and he’s asking you questions about what you said.

“ you’ll have to be specific, I said a lot. “

“ it needs sayin’? “

Daryl can’t help but feel put on the spot as your sight bores into him with a forceful amount of strength, scrutinising him with the need to find an answer he’s not yet sure of.

“ yes, it does. “

“ was y’serious about.. bein’ in love.. ? “ with me is the silent end to the sentence that lays peacefully on his tongue as he leaves it out, the invisible presence of it painfully clear to the both of you, knowing that while it wasn’t included, it was there regardless.

“ when it comes to things like this, I don’t lie. “ you rest your head on your chin, a small yet anxious smile fighting to break free onto your features.

Why do I have to be a nervous smiler?

Daryl doesn’t answer, instead he moves to sit beside you on the porch. Closer than ever before, it’s not something that goes unnoticed by either of you, and like that hope is once again reignited within your core. Even small steps like this are significant, physical affection with other people is still something that has not changed all that much with him.. Though, you’ve seen moments on rare occasions, witnessing it before he can even stop himself.

“ so, we boyfriend and girlfriend now? “ you joke, laughter allowing the grief to peel away from your heart, allowing it to flutter in the air at the thought of the potential between you.

“ shut up. “ mumbles Daryl, although there’s a small grin that is peaking through his expression as he allows it to be set free, even though the full picture is still hidden under the grime and the hair that has long since overgrown.

But, you find you wouldn’t change a thing about that. It being part of his charm. You can’t help but find yourself full to the brim of excitement of what can grow between you, with the possibilities endless.. no matter how hard things can and will get, you will have each other in a new way that you’ve never before and that? It’s a heavenly picture you want to cut and pocket away in the confines of your heart.

[shozto]

⏤ wounds.

ask: Hi if requests are still open could I please request a Dabi(Touya) x civilian reader? Where she finds him badly injured and unconscious then she drags him back to her apartment to treat his wounds and when Dabi regains consciousness he finds her sleeping next to him in her bed. 

pairing: dabi / f!reader

wordcount: 3.4k

genre: angst, fluff, strangers to something more(?)

warning: brief descriptions of injuries and pain, swearing, a makeout scene, suggestive but literally nothing happens, dabi is kind of ooc? but not really

+ summary: dabi is extremely hurt, and you are the only one there to help him. 

note! this is the first thing i’ve written on here since my hiatus almost 2 years ago! i hope you like it

Music thumped through the brick wall and into the narrow alleyway. This club was pretentious to say the least, but it provided a loud, pounding wall of safety from the dangerous streets. The darkness of the city after dark only brought the stench of danger and death, something Dabi didn’t prefer, but knew well. He still went out anyway.

Dabi is always careful when he goes out. Sure, he gets hurt sometimes, but never anything too serious or life threatening. It’s a habit of his, one he is extremely determined on keeping. But, no matter how careful he is, something is bound to slip through at one point or another.

Blood seeped through the gash on his side. It leaked past his white shirt, staining it a deep red and dripping onto the ground as he leaned against the wall of the alley. His scarred hand pressed against the wound and he groaned, falling to the ground letting out a sputtered cough. 

So much for being careful. 

“Those bastards,” he grunted. His legs pushed against the ground before he hunched over and heaved for breath. He felt his mouth fill with saliva as he hyperventilated and squeezed his eyes shut. 

They stabbed him with a knife. He killed them, of course. Burning them to a crisp in one glance. But that didn’t help the gaping wound in his side.

This isn’t an often occurrence for Dabi; he hardly ever got hurt, and when he did, it was always on his own accord. He could deal with the pain from burns, at least those didn’t make him feel like he was dying from the inside out. Being stabbed was a different kind of pain, though. Dabi felt like he was really about to die. 

But then, his saving grace.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” A voice came from his left. Your voice was panicked and shaky, but oh so gentle. 

You came into view and his vision blurred. Your hand was warm against his cheek and cool against the wound on his side, a fresh relief. You pulled the purse off your shoulder and sifted through the items before pulling out a cellphone and dialing something on the keypad.

Dabi’s hand grabbed your wrist and he shook his head. 

“What?” you looked at him. “I’m going to call an ambulance, you need to go to the hospital.”

He shook his head again and grunted, trying to push himself up into a sitting position. “No hospitals. No police.”

His voice was rough and deep, it took you a moment to process what exactly he was saying. When you did, you felt your heart fall in your chest. 

“Okay, okay... no hospitals or police...” you sucked in a breath. “I can take you to my apartment, it’s just up there.” you pointed to a window above them on the other side of the alley. 

Dabi nodded and felt his vision blurring once more. He knew he wouldn’t be able to stay conscious much longer. 

“Come on, stay with me please,” you spoke softly, trying to pull him up on his feet. “I need you to walk, I’ll help you just please try and stand up.”

Your arms pulled him up to his feet and he stumbled, falling on top of your smaller frame. You grunted at the weight and tried to drag him to your apartment building.

One step, two steps. A few more through the door when your entered the digits on the keypad. Finally into the apartment building. 

Dabi collapsed. 

Dabi woke up with an ache in his side. He let out a groan and shifted his body, turning to his stomach and running his hand through his hair. His eyes fluttered open and, much to his surprise, sleeping beside him was a girl.

You looked familiar, but he didn’t know why. Did he sleep with you? No, he shook his head. You were fully clothed and looked far too peaceful for having spent the night in bed with him. 

Then, another sharp pain in his abdomen. He sucked in a breath and let his hand drift to the ache. He was shirtless, a white bandage wrapped around his waist. Oh, right. He got stabbed. So your were the one who helped him then.

your sudden movement caught his attention. You stretched your arms out and your eyes opened slowly.

“Good morning.” you smiled, looking into his cerulean eyes. Intimidating yet warm, and very, very confused. “Did you sleep well?” your voice was gentle, just like before. But this time it was calmer, more comfortable. 

Dabi lifted his arm and tucked it under his head. “Care to explain why ‘m sleepin’ in your bed, angel?”

Deflected your question with his own, of course. That was what he was best at. 

You shifted and turned your gaze away from his own. It felt like they were burning holes in your eyes; scary and understandably so. He must’ve been a villain. You weren’t sure if you could hold eye contact with him for more than three seconds. “You were hurt badly. Like, really bad, and you didn’t want me to take you to the hospital so I tried my best to patch you up here. You were also running a high fever, probably from the loss of blood. I let you sleep in my bed, and I was going to sleep on the couch, but you kept waking up from these... nightmares? I felt bad leaving you so... I just came to sleep here in case you needed anything.”

Your hand found the bandage on his waist and you brushed your fingers against the white fabric. Thank god the blood wasn’t leaking through anymore. “What’s your name, anyway? And how did you get hurt so badly? Don’t tell me it’s the reason why you didn’t want me taking you to the hospital or calling the police...”

He felt you finch when he grabbed your wrist. 

“I’m Dabi, angel face. You have a name? Or do you prefer me calling you ‘angel’?”

You laughed a little out of sheer awkwardness. “My name is y/n.”

Dabi hummed and pulled you closer to his body until your chests were touching. You were cold. “You okay, y/n? You seem a little shaken up.”

You pushed him away and got out of the bed. “What are you trying to do?”

He sat up and leaned against the headboard, a slight smirk on his lips. “Just trying to repay you for helpin’ me out last night. Want me to make you feel good? Tell me what you want, princess. I’ll give it to you.”

“We literally just met, Dabi. I only learned your name two minutes ago. Stop being a creep and have some human decency, for god’s sake. I just saved your life.”

You slipped out of the bedroom door and walked toward the kitchen. Dabi frowned and got out of the bed, following behind you. 

Dabi was not a creep. Well, not in the sense that you were getting at; he was a villain. He assumed it fit his image and it was easy to assume such things, but it wasn’t fair of you to say that. But then again, he did just try and make a move on you... maybe it was warranted. 

Who could blame him, though? You were alluring in your own right. Pretty skin, cute smile, bright eyes. You helped him when he thought he was going to die. Now that was something he didn’t quite process. Who was he kidding? That was horrifying; but then again, nothing was ever as horrifying as what happened when he was a child. Either way, he really was grateful for your help. He just didn’t know how to show it. 

You knew he was following you, but you didn’t speak. You would make him some breakfast, then kick him out. So much for the butterflies fluttering in your stomach whenever he spoke. 

“Sorry about that,” Dabi said after a few minutes of silence between the two of you. The sizzling of rice being coated in oil and vegetables was loud. It smelled way too good to be considered fried rice. 

You hummed in response and tapped your fingers against the handle of the spatula in your hand. “It’s okay.”

Well that wasn’t much of a surprise, but it still took him aback. You were too kind for your own good.

“Thank you, though. For real.”

“It’s the least I can do. Even though you’re a villain, and if the police find out I helped you, I’ll probably get arrested and then lose my scholarship and fail at my dream of becoming a doctor. But it’s okay.”

Now that, that was a surprise. 

“You wanna be a doctor?” not the doctor part. (he was honestly not surprised about that, it only made sense. you actually knew what you were doing and how to help him). he was surprised that you were this open to him. 

“Yeah,” you paused as you pulled out bowls to put the rice in. “It’s technically my parents’ dream for me. But I’ve realized I enjoy it a lot more than I thought I would. I like helping people, it makes me happy.” You handed him his bowl and sat beside him. “I just realized that’s probably the last thing you wanna hear. Don’t villains find the idea of helping people disgusting?”

Dabi laughed. 

It was a warm, gravely laugh, probably due to the fact he just woke up. It made your heart feel like it was being coated in thick honey and you felt heat rise to your face. You liked his laugh. 

“I don’t know about other villains, but I really could not care less. But no, the last thing I would want to hear is you being a hero. That would be terrifying.”

You felt a smile creep up your lips and a tight feeling grew in your chest. “Yeah, never. I have too weak a quirk to do that. And putting my life on the line? No thanks. I have way too much to lose.”

“Too much to lose, huh?” he said. He ate some of the rice. “What’s your quirk? Some healing shit?”

You shook your head. “No, but that would be ideal. I have a simple nature quirk. Like I can grow flowers and make the leaves change color.”

“Sweet quirk for a sweet girl.”

You flushed. “What’s yours?”

Dabi held out a single finger and in a split second, a small blue flame emitted from the tip. “Just fire. I’d show you more but I might burn your apartment down and you’d murder me. Plus I’d feel a little bad.”

“Blue fire?”

“Yeah.”

“What were your parents’ quirks? I’ve never seen anyone have blue fire before.” you asked innocently. Dabi gritted his teeth.

“Fire and ice, i guess. I don’t remember too well, though. Haven’t seen ‘em in a long time.”

You were about to ask another question, but realized it might be a little insensitive. Besides, it was none of your business.

“Sorry,” you murmured. Then, you ate. 

You weren’t quite sure what had happened, but you saw Dabi quite frequently nowadays. 

After you told him you had a night class, you would often see him outside the campus waiting for you so he could walk you home. Other times, he would bring you little things like food or candy. 

You assumed it made him happy; bringing you things or walking you home. It would be a lie if you said it didn’t make you happy as well. He was sort of a dandere type; he let you do most of the talking and sometimes it seemed like he didn’t care, but he proved that he was listening when he brought you the snacks that you told him you liked, or when he gave you a little nightlight after you told him you were afraid of the dark. 

He was sweet; unbelievably so. And over the past few weeks, you realized that you might have a major romantic connection to him. It was almost like you were in a relationship together, but not really.

You had never gone out on a date or anything like that, but you could tell he liked you in a certain way. The way he teased you or called you cute. The way he slept over in your bed often. At first he said it was because he didn’t want to go back to his place since his roommates were annoying. 

It was the way he hugged you when he said goodbye or the lingering gazes when you would cook him dinner. One time you kissed him on the cheek when he was pretending he was asleep. You swore you saw him blush.

Tonight felt different. You hadn’t seen him in a few days; he was away, he said. He told you not to worry, but you did. How could you not? He was like your best friend.

There was a knock on your door. It was loud and hard, and you felt your heart stutter in your chest. You walked quickly to the peephole, and much to your surprise, dabi was standing there. You flung the door open.

“Dabi,” you ran into his arms, hugging around his waist tightly and burying your face into his chest. You let out a shaky breath and you felt tears well up in your eyes. 

“Hey, angel,” he said softly and rested his face on the top of your head, breathing in deeply. “Missed you,” he muttered. He kissed your head gently and hummed. “We should go inside, baby.”

You sniffled and nodded, pulling away from his warm body and interlacing your hand with his own before leading him inside and closing the door behind you. 

“How was it?” you asked. You never asked about his ‘work’. You knew it made him a little upset. Not that he didn’t trust you, he just didn’t like you hearing about that side of himself. He had his own motivations and drives, as did you. You didn’t question them, because you knew they were valid. 

He sighed and sat on your couch, leaning back and running his hands down his face. “It was fine, just tiring,”  he said. 

He closed his eyes and tossed his head back, resting his arm on the back of the couch, his long legs spread wide. Sometimes you forgot how tall he was. You never forgot how attractive he was. 

You fiddled with your fingers as you stood by the coffee table. You were worried about him... how could you not? He was one of the most important people in your life right now. You don’t know what you’d do with yourself if he died.

He let out something between a sigh and a groan. You felt your insides twist. 

Cerulean blue eyes opened slightly and caught yours. “C’mere, angel,” he said, opening his arms. 

You complied and walked over to him, standing in between his parted thighs. He quirked a brow at your shyness and his hands found your hips, pulling you forward onto his lap so your legs were on either side of his thighs. 

Your hands gripped the front of his shirt and you leaned forward, burying your head in his neck. He was so warm, obviously a result of his quirk. He smelled like campfires in the rain... a rare experience in itself. It wasn’t until Dabi started rubbing your back that you realized you were crying.

“Shhh, baby. It’s okay,” he breathed in your ear. “I’m right here, you don’t need to worry.”

You sniffled and rubbed your face against the rough skin of his neck. You kissed it gently; it made your heart drop whenever you felt his burns. You knew they didn’t hurt. It was just scar tissue. But you felt so sad whenever you thought about them, he had so much pain buried in his heart. These burns were a result of his bad past.

Dabi pulled your body closer to his own so there was no space in between. His large hands held your shoulders and pulled you so you were facing him. His long fingers grazed your cheek and settled for threading through your hair and cupping your jaw. 

“Look at me,” he whispered, his burning blue eyes searching your face. You sniffled again and hesitantly looked up into them. “There she is,” he smiled and wiped your tears away with his thumbs. You let out a small laugh when he nudged her nose with his own. “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head and looked down again.

“Hey, what did I say? Look at me, y/n,” your name dripped from his tongue and you felt your stomach twist. You looked up at him again.

“I’m just worried about you,” you said with a shaky breath. “And... I know you don’t want my pity but I just feel so sad when I think about what you’ve had to go through. It hurts me, thinking about it. I just want you to be happy, and I know you’re trying to accomplish your goal by working with the league, but I just...” you trailed off and looked down again. His thumb brushed your cheek again. “I just want you to be okay and safe. I know you’re doing what you have to do, but I love you and it hurts so bad seeing you in pain.”

“Angel...” he kissed your forehead. “I’m not in pain.”

You shook your head. “You are. I can tell.”

“I’m perfectly fine, don’t worry about me, okay? I didn’t get hurt.”

he was always so gentle when it came to you.

“Not physically. I mean mentally,” you sighed and brought your hands to his cheeks, mirroring his actions from before. He let his hands drop to your hips, rubbing soft circles in the dips. “Your past, the hurt you have in your heart. These scars may just be old burns, but they’re wounds. They are proof of your pain. Even if it was a long time ago.”

You kissed under his left eye. Then his right. You noticed he let out a small sigh when you kissed his jaw, then his ear, his neck, his collar bone. You looked back up at his face; his eyes were closed. You smiled softly and held under his jaw again, pulling your face closer to his. He felt your breath on his lips, but his eyes remained shut. Your thumb hesitantly traced his bottom lip and he hummed. You slowly leaned in and captured his lips in your own. 

The kiss was slow and warm and sensual. It was kind of surprising that you had never kissed him before, but you realized it might have been because of what happened on the morning you met.

His grip tightened on your hips and he let out a small groan when you pulled your lips away from his own. Your hands slowly dragged down to his shoulders.

“Was that okay?” you whispered and he opened his eyes slowly. 

Instead of responding, he grabbed the back of your head and kissed you again, fervently. It was hot and it made you feel like your breath had been knocked out of you, but it was slow and tight and it made your mind go fuzzy. You whimpered when his tongue traced along your gums, your grip on his shirt growing tighter and you realized you were shaking. 

He moved to kiss your jaw below your ear and you swore you couldn’t breathe. He whispered something about breathing before continuing his trail of kisses down your neck, sucking at the skin there. You struggled to breathe in and you found Dabi rubbing your arm with one of his hands. He squeezed you lightly and stopped his kissing, pulling away and holding you close, pushing your head into the crook of his neck.

You whimpered when he rubbed your back again, and you were now in the same position as you were before. 

He felt your hot breath on his neck and he kissed your shoulder. 

“You okay?” he asked. You nodded and moved so you were facing him again. You smiled and ran your hands through his dark locks.

“I love you,” you said once more. He smiled and pecked your lips. 

“I love you too.”

[pinkmirth]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ (ch.1 | feenin')

—𝑶𝑵𝑬.

SERIES MASTERLIST | NEXT CHAPTER | WK: 2.8K

Frenzied cheers buzzed throughout the raving auditorium, the basketball’s reverberating bounces against the slick court floor adding onto the thrill. This match was nothing but hyped, but in a good way so.

The sports chants of the college goers sounded rather foreign to you, since it wasn’t like you attended Stohess University anyway. The fellow audience around you were at the edge of their seats, hailing their team’s basketball players as the raving shouts began to sound borderline intoxicating. So much so that you couldn’t help but clap along to another school’s anthem.

“Havin’ fun?” Marco questions, the corners of his mouth upturned into a smile that showcased his quirky dimples. You beamed right back at the freckled male, plush lips curved into a grin of your own.

It all seemed trivial, just a friendly collegiate basketball match that your friends Jean and Marco had invited you to free of charge, but it was all the break you needed from your own studies and more.

“Hell yeah I am,” you chuckled in reply, “but you know what’d make it better?”

His doe brown eyes flitted between you and the vibrant box of candy in hand, which was seemingly low in supply after you and him dipped your hands in for a bite a countless number of times.

“A refill on these, yeah?” His claims were just as what you were thinking, earning your brief nod of agreement. Marco subtly shook the snackbox within his hold, the spare pieces left beginning to rattle around with the motion.

“You read my mind, Coco,” you grinned, rising up from your reserved seat with spare cash stuffed into your back pocket. “I’ll be right back, ‘aight?” He sends you a brief smile in compliance.

“Get the sour patch this time!”

“You got sour patch money..?”

He pursed his lips momentarily, unsure as to whether you had been joking or not. “M’just messing ‘round with you, Coco,” you snickered with a teasing grin, slipping a hand into your pocket to retrieve the few bucks. “It’s on me.” Was all you said before making your way through the crowded stands, descending down stair after stair.

“It’s only the first game of the season, and our pride and joy, the Stohess Scouts, are already dominating tonight’s guest competitors!” the commentator boomed through the mic, their voice adding onto the various noises that filled the gymnasium. “We’re calling for a halftime, but let’s keep our fingers crossed that Kirschtein can pull through with a fair amount of two-pointers by the upcoming final quarter—“

The mentioned name of your close friend makes you beam with pride, content that your Jeanie was the star of the show. You set eyes on the brunette from where you stood, who was now making his way to the sidelines for a desperately needed and duly earned swig of water, his light brown hair in a disarray of stray strands fraying out from underneath the simple hairband you’d given him a while back.

You eagerly began to flit down the stands to reach him, striding past the poor row of benched players, from the injured to the water boy.

Jean eventually takes notice of your arrival and instantly beams, subtle puffs of air leaving his agape lips after all the running and dribbling and such that came with game day.

The first thing you do is taunt upon your arrival,“Y’all had better win, Jeanie.”

As always, Jean only smirks. “You doubting that I won’t bring that trophy home, Pookie?” you playfully grimaced and let out a stifled laugh over the somewhat embarrassing nickname— one that you made up when the pair of you were seven, and it's the same one that he’s been holding onto for all these years, even at nineteen.

“Well, I’d be lying if I said you aren’t lookin’ pretty damn promising out there,” your reply is genuine, the soft grin that you display causing Jean to display one of his own. It was an affable, never ending cycle— you’d tease and he’d do it right back, until the both of you would laugh over it and depart with a brief smile.

“M’getting snacks, I’ll be back before the breaktime ends, okay?” Kirschtein briefly nods in compliance, sending a few adjusting tugs to the white basketball sleeve hugging his bicep before departing with the sharp squeak of his shoes sprinting against the court floor.

Once again, you find yourself strolling past every individual seated on the benches. You’re speed-walking alongside them, anticipating to retrieve a couple snacks for you and Marco, until something— Someone catches your eye.

It was brisk and almost too sudden, but flashes of green meet your line of vision. You managed to make out the blur of thick brows, long dark hair having been thrown into the messiest attempted bun, a modest, charming smile, and a pair of turquoise irises that seemingly peered into your own with an intensity that made you take it personal. Yet, you hardly even caught a good glimpse of their face, whoever they were.

You passed by said person a good thirty seconds ago, already pushing your way past the double doors and over to the vending machines stationed along the semi-populated hallway, but that striking gaze was still heavily implanted within your mind.

Hazy green-grey eyes, you recalled, accompanied with them shooting you the briefest grin just as you whisked by. Though, as recent as it was, that was all in the past now.

You glance around to see a decent handful of people here to buy food of their own, being perched at other vending machines. The snack-wielding contrivance before you isn't drawing much attention and doesn’t have an awaiting crowd standing around for a bag of potato chips, so you withdraw the dollars from your back pocket and attempt to straighten them out a bit before inserting them into the slot.

“Wow,”

This sudden breathy gasp from a “random whoever” is something that you take notice of, but it isn’t enough to rip your attention away from your scavenge for Marco’s sour patch. To their dismay, you do nothing but continue with what you came to do. In your opinion, whoever that was had been getting a bit too close for comfort..

Albeit the evident way you choose to ignore, another whistle resounds, along with an unpleasantly suggestive hum. It sounds somewhat louder, and it seems much closer than before. You can’t help but tear your gaze away from slot E7 and look up, since it seems so directed towards you.

You've hardly turned around before being met with the abrupt presence of a stranger uninvitingly looming beside you, the man’s beaming grin seeming sickeningly sweet. Almost too approachable.

“Oh, I’m sorry to pop up out of the blue,” his apologies come out within a chuckle, and as inviting as he attempts to seem, your brows only furrow. “—but you really caught my attention!” He was greatly unfamiliar to you, some white male around your age with shaggy auburn hair and chestnut colored eyes in contrast. Despite his subtle charm, you weren't growing a liking to him and his stupid little smile.

“Oh,” You muse with a dull hum, pursing your glossed lips before releasing them with a slight pop, “Did I really?” His nod is too enthusiastic, and you hardly try to cover up the mug-like expression that overtook your features, eyes grazing across his plain face uninterestedly. You promptly slide the dollars right back into your pocket, “Nice to know. Can you mind your own now?”

“Wait! I'm not meaning to be a bother, but.. I don’t see girls like you around much..” You're instantly encased with a shiver of deep cringe, one that annoyingly scurries up your spine and makes your lip twitch into a vexed glower.

You emitted the most exaggerated huff, shifting your weight from one foot to the other, all the while glancing at the sheen glass of the vending machine to see your own reflection. It was plastered all across your face, yet this dense-ass man still couldn't get it; you were pissed-off.

Great. You internally groan, Another snow roach who thinks I’m exotic.

“I really appreciate how different you look,” Was he really still rambling on, despite knowing damn well that you were growing uncomfortable? Or maybe, he was just an utter dumbass and couldn't take the painfully obvious hints.

“You wanna know what I’d appreciate, hm?” You say sharply, taking a swift inhale through your nose, “If you left me alone.”

Your smooth, placid voice was the first thing that Eren heard when he trotted into the hallway, that of which sounded dulcet and intriguingly accentuated, but more annoyed than anything else. He turns the corner and is met with the sight of a bastard that looked too smug for his own good, and a girl, such a pretty girl, whose melanated skin even found a way to gleam under the shitty fluorescent school lights.

It then clicks in Eren’s mind, briefly but distinctively. You were the person who'd strolled by the bench that he was sitting on earlier. You were also the same one who did a double take upon seeing him, glancing once— No, twice, with those captivating eyes of yours. He remembered the way his leg started to bop along the floor with a newfound excitement that he just couldn't place. Though, more than anything else, Eren recalled that he did the exact same; hold his gaze and grin at the sight of you.

“Ah, but you can spare me a minute more, can’t you?” You respond with the swift roll of your eyes, eliciting an exasperated groan, “Nigga, I said bye.” Eren’s thick, neat brows falter into a furrowed position, looking upon the scenario that was being splayed out before him, which everyone else in that hall was seemingly content with ignoring. It couldn't have only been him that saw that this bastard was relentlessly bothering you, could it?

“Woah, no need to get aggressive,” Eren’s expression contorts into a grimace upon hearing every little word, the tips of his ears red with brewing rage. Despite his matured will to control his daily outburst of emotions, it was safe to say that he'd never exactly gotten past his trial of anger issues since he was a kid.

“Listen, this is my nice way of tellin’ you to fuck off, but I can get aggressive if you want.” Your offer sounds downright threatening, “Do you really want that?”

You’re snappy and direct, and Eren can't deny that he likes that. Though, as much as he's growing fond of your strong will and defensiveness, he knows he can't stand idly by all day, he just can't. Besides, everyone knew well— It was practically Eren Jaeger’s forte to intervene.

The green eyed male eventually begins to make his way towards the scene in the form of subtle limps, being cautious of his ankle sprain as he grows closer, which was the reasoning behind him being benched in the first place.

You were much too preoccupied with that cheeky, unrelenting bastard to notice the way that Eren was gradually coming over, anyway. What could he say? He was a fan of the element of surprise.

You halt in the middle of your opposing rant, growing aware of another’s emerging presence. You're yet again bombarded with somebody else making their way beside you with an act of stealth that you were unknowingly soon to be thankful of.

Before you get the chance to merely peer in their direction, tall, a long haired male clad in the black and grey Stohess basketball uniform is towering alongside you, his toned, burly arm slinking around your shoulder.

This sudden proximity leaves your head spinning in the best way possible, and how could it not? You don’t know a single thing about this alluring stranger, but he’s close, so close, and it gets your heart and mind racing miles in a minute. You were subtly, but instantly enraptured once the weight of his arm rests comfortably upon you.

Eren doesn’t pay the confused male not one glance, but instead tends to you and your own state of delighted shock. “Play it cool, alright? I wanna help.” Your breath instinctively hitches once he leans down to ease out his whispered plan into your ear, flashing you a consoling half smile.

You return a brief nod before dragging your eyes along the male’s face, which looks so much better up close. Your interpretation of his image was more literal and precise than you thought to be; The dark, long tresses that had been pulled back with the aid of a thin elastic scrunchie, his expressively thick brows, pink lips that upturned into a supportive smirk, and those sea-green eyes that left you feeling weak right in the knees.

Albeit Eren’s prior grin, he eventually turns his attention towards the unrelenting man for a second or two. In that moment, his expression speedily grew all the more intense, practically sharper than before, and contorted into something of a scowl. Although, you can tell he’s trying so hard to channel his temper and mask away his revulsion.

“I’ve been, ah.. waiting for you to come back to your seat!” Eren begins to improvise, flashing you a subtle gleam that made it seem as though the pair of you were familiar with each other. “S’been a while since then."

He purses his lips within a pause, nimble fingers draping along your shoulder before shooting you a reassuring squeeze, "Is it ‘cause this bastard is keeping you occupied? He’s bothering you, isn't he?”

You're damn near close to stammering over the words that were bound to leave your mouth. Though, it doesn't take much for you to regain yourself. Your lips fall slightly agape all the while you briskly dragged your line of vision along his charming features, but your response follows after in a quick manner. It was just that you couldn't help how his unnerving gaze left you mesmerized.

“—Yes. Yes he is.” You hum, accompanying the claim with your hands crossing over your chest as you leaned into his grasp, in an attempt to appear convincing. Your confession sounded assured and stern, which was the complete opposite of how girls would act around him.

Eren knew well of the doting effect that he had on females— It was hard to forget when he’d merely ask for a spare pencil and wind up with an unasked phone number in return. Though, he admired the way you saw him as any other person and played along so well.

The brown-haired male scornfully laughs, and just the sound of him leaves you feeling uncomfy, “Whaddya' mean? We were just having a small chat, isn't that right?” Your contorted expression is full-fledged disrespectful, and Eren has to stifle his chuckle over your unsmiling glare and scrunched up nose. Damn, were you entertaining.

“Small chat, huh? Well, it was real one sided..” You voice out an irked murmur, “You're over exaggerating, you just haven’t warmed up to me yet—”

“If I didn’t know any better,” Eren makes a very much intended interruption, “I’d say that she doesn’t want to mingle with a sorry bastard that should leave her alone already.” You note at the subtle flex of Eren’s clenching jaw, signifying the way his already weary patience was running rather thin.

“Bastard—? Wait, who even are you?”

“Who am I, huh?” scoffs the green eyed male alongside you, a twinge of drawled hesitance in his voice. Eren pauses momentarily, only now beginning to realize that his little hero act wasn’t as planned out as he thought to be.

What could he say that would be persuasive enough to get this sorry fucker to leave you alone other than throwing fists unnecessarily? Jaeger’s emerald-hued eyes eventually light up in the dawn of an idea. One that he’s somewhat unsure of, but it’s much better than nothing.

Besides, this plan of his had been set in stone by the very moment he had draped his bare arm around you and shot you that all-too-suggestive smile, so he might as well finish what he started.

Eren’s touch trails downwards swiftly, spreading riveting tingles from your shoulder down to your forearm, then along your wrist, and even past there. His hand is now encasing the left side of your hip as his lithe fingers press into the curve of your supple waist. He takes a light inhale, giving you a light squeeze with his large palm, as though signaling for you to brace yourself over what he was bound to say.

“—I'm her boyfriend.”

—𝑭𝑰𝑵.

[dollscircus]

Adenn Baar’ur - Chapter 3

(Merciless Medic)

Summary: Finding an injured Mandalorian wasn’t how you expected the night to end; surprisingly forming a strange friendship with “Big Blue” however he begins to realise that you have a connection with another mandalorian which was unknown to you.

Paring: Paz Vizsla x F!Reader. F!Reader & Din Djarin (Siblings)

Includes: Fluff, Character death and angst.

Words: 2, 419

Chapter 1

————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

You dream a lot- no not really. You get nightmares a lot. Mostly memories of the day you lost everything. Mother, father and your brother. Din’s screams filled your mind every night, and that night was no different. You woke up yelling while tears streamed down your face. However, your attention turned to your body. Throbbing ribs and head. A slight shuffling caused you to glance at the person standing near your bed. Blue watched you for a couple of seconds, seemingly stunned.

“Sorry-“ You muttered while wiping the tears, “Maker, that’s embarrassing.” You forced a slight chuckle as Blue approached the cot, which bowed under his weight as he sat on the edge. Reaching towards your face, Blue cupped your face with his hands. His thumb wiping away a tear, you found yourself leaning into his touch and closing your eyes. Letting out a shuddering breath mixed with a wince of pain.

“I’m going to kill that, hut'uun-“ Blue muttered under his breath, but you could barely understand it. As he spoke his hand pulled away, you found yourself missing the touch; you hadn’t realised how touch starved you were.

“Who?” You asked as you turned your attention to your body; mostly your ribs as you waited for a response you lifted the hem of your shirt just enough to see the bruising. The dark purple and blue patch seemed smaller than it should’ve, and the pain wasn’t as bad as you remembered.

“I used some of the bacta- helps with pain-“ Blue spoke, noticeably avoiding your question. You dropped your shirt back down and looked at him. Furrowing your brow.

“Who are you going to kill? What’s a hut’uun?”

“I was attacked because of him- a mandalorian. I was mistaken for him.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that came out of your lips, it sounded more like a giggle.

“I’ve heard stories of how Mando looks-“ You shocked your head in disbelief, “How do you even confuse you two?” Blue was huge- large and for kriff sake blue! You had to be a real idiot to mistake the two.

“Hell of a first date-“ You chuckled, laughing more at the absurdity of that.

“So, you class this as romantic?” He teased.

“Of course,” You responded in a coy tone of voice, “You saved my life. That’s romantic as kriff.” Your tone was joking but your words seemed to make him sad as you didn’t get a response for a few moments.

“Why do you do this?” He asked however you were unsure of what he meant so you tilted your head to the side, “What you do is dangerous. Helping people who don’t deserve it.” The tone in his voice indicated to you that the last sentence wasn’t referring to any of the people you treat but himself.

“I lost my home. My family. Everything. Bounty hunters took me in. Trust me, they weren’t good people by any means but they saved me. So, my only use was as their medic. So, when most of them were killed. I used the only skill I really knew.” You felt a strike of sadness but shook it off before reaching to Blue’s helmet and touching the cold metal, offering the kindest smile you could, “Don’t feel guilty, mandalorian. I’ve had worse.” That didn’t really help.

A sudden thud from down in the infirmary caused you to jump and suddenly pull your hand away. The distant voice of Aki rang out and much to your horror she was calling your name. You jolted forward in your cot yelping in surprise and also hoping your yelp would drown out her yells. However they didn’t, as she burst into your room her yells drowned out yours.

“Djarin!” Eh, you were glad she didn’t say your first name but this was still annoying. You growled and glared at her, as she stared at the strange sight in front of her.

“Aki-“ You started, you hadn’t even noticed Blue go completely still next to you. “What did I tell you about-“ She threw her arms over your shoulders, it seems she didn’t even notice Blue but she did notice your yelp of pain. Pulling back, she brushed the hair from your face and pet your head like you were a child. Pulling away from her, you frowned at her. It seemed she finally noticed Blue as he shifted on the cot.

“Why is there a mandalorian on your cot?” She asked quickly.

“I’ll explain later-��

Blue quickly rose from the bed muttering something about getting back, a little startled it took a second for you to respond. Muttering your own goodbye. However, before he left it seemed he had forgotten Aki’s presence as he gently cupped your face in his hands and gently touched the forehead of his helmet to yours very quietly speaking;

“Be careful Mesh’la.” Then as quickly as he appeared he left.

Aki and You watched the door for a few moments and when he was out of ear shot, Aki turned to you and gave you a look. It read “What the hell?’ Still annoyed about her leaking your name, you shook your head and dropped back to the cot tired. Saying something about getting more sleep.

You healed quickly and by the time it went dark you were working down in the infirmary with little to no pain and Aki was out on a home visit. You kept yourself busy while ignoring any pain you felt. The night was slow which you were thankful for as you sat down in a chair, letting out a tired sigh as you watched the ceiling for a few moments. Completely in your own world but the high pitched sound of your coms caused you to turn your head toward it and check the massage. You picked up the call.

“Hello? Medic here.”

“I’ve got a quarry injured. Could you come meet us at the edge of town?” You didn’t recognize the voice, his voice sounded weird. Almost distorted- more so than usual on coms.

“Near the cantina?”

“Yes.”

“Ok, could you tell me the state of the quarry?”

“Blaster wounds mostly.”

“Got it. What ship are you in and name?”

“Razor Crest.”

You noticed he didn’t include a name as you both hung up the call. Sighing, you stood up and gathered your kit before taking off. Bidding Aki farewell on the way. The Razor Crest was a beaten up ship, not in a horrible state but as you approached the ship the door on the side began to open with a creek. As it dropped to the floor someone began to walk down out the ship. You quickly recognised the person, the last time you saw him he was younger and dropping you off at Navarro. Uriel hadn’t noticed you yet, paying more attention to a small bag.

“Uriel?” You called out, it sounded kinda like a scoff mixed with a laugh, “You son of a bitch!”

He perked up and looked over to you. His bored expression quickly turned to a happy one and his arms suddenly spread open while happily exclaiming. You approached him and you both exchanged an impromptu handshake, he was an older fella and looked like he had been through hell and back- twice. Most of the time, you were the one patching him up.

“D-“ He started to say ‘Djarin’ but stopped himself, “Kid, you look good! Navarro been treatin’ nicely?” The quick jabbing pain in your rib caused you to scowl.

“You look like shit- and of course it hasn’t earned myself some fractured ribs last night.” Uriel took in a quick inhale through his teeth, you glanced up at the ship frowning slightly.

“You can’t fly for shit- so who’s with you?”

As if on cue heavy footsteps could be heard as the Mandaloiran walked down the ramp, smaller than Blue and his baskar looked a little beaten up. He was silent as he drug the bloodied quarry down to the ramp and dropped him at the bottom. The blaster wounds weren’t very bad, so some bacta patches would do the trick. As you patched the quarry, you mostly kept silent as Uriel rambled on but you were vaguely aware of eyes glued to the back of your head. Mando watched you carefully as you worked.

“Hey Mando.” You started, “How’d you get saddled with this sack of shit?” However the person who answered was Uriel.

“We were huntin’ the same person. Split the bounty 40/60.” Your lip twitched in annoyance as you responded.

“Uriel. I didn’t ask you.” You turned around to face the bounty hunters, “I asked Mando.”

“He followed me until I agreed to split the bounty with him-“ Mando said after a few moments and you could hear the irritation in his voice. You suppressed the giggle as you turned back around muttering something about that sounding like him. As you finished with the guarry you rose to your feet and looked to Uriel. Wanting to avoid Mando’s constant gaze.

“I’ll pay you with something else-“ His annoying cheerful full tone faded when he spoke, “Information.” You sighed, and shook your head.

“I can’t live off information, Uriel-“ You spoke but he raised his hand to silence you, while you too spoke Mando excused himself back into the ship with the patched up quarry in tow.

“These a bounty on you. A pretty sizable one at that-“ You tried to think who would want your head however you couldn’t remember pissing anyone off enough on Navarro to warrant something like that.

“Is it on Medic or Djarin?” You spoke, forgetting you might’ve been in earshot of the mandalorian however the sudden clutter in the ship told you he was too busy to listen in.

“Djarin.” Uriel responded, in a hushed tone. You scoffed, and shook your head side to side.

“Well, she’s dead. You guys made sure of that when you dumped me here- Only you and-“ You paused, thinking it through. It was true that Uriel and one other person asked from Aki knew your birth name. Burton knows. Burton's one crazy son of a- Insane, doesn’t care about anyone aside from himself. You were sure that man would sell out his own mother if the price was high enough.

“Burton took my bounty- Didn’t he?” Your voice trembled slightly, the fear is your expression read as panic. Uriel nodded his head, you spoke again. “Is he on Navarro?” Again Uriel nodded. You suddenly did a 180 and took off running. Uirel called after you, confused but you kept running even when Uriel shouted your first name. You guessed on accident but again ignored him and kept going. Hoping you could get home before it was too late.

Uirel watched you disappear and stood by the ramp for a few moments unaware of the quickly approaching Mandalorian until he firmly grasped him agrasped his arm and pulled him towards him. His modulated voice came through as aggressive and urgent.

“What did you just say?” A little confused, Uriel didn’t respond for a couple of second so Mando shook him while repeating the questions and adding,

“Her name. What did you just say she was?”

“Y/N.” Uriel sputtered, “Y/N Djairn.” He thought that a mandalorian was the least of your troubles right now.

The thing about Burtonis. He doesn’t like getting his hand messy, he never lets a quarry live and never leaves them in one piece. Rather plating explosives and watching them get torn to shreds. Aki was home- Maker Aki was home. Your heaving chest burned as you ran, your ribs begging you to take a break and your lungs working overtime. Each panic breath you took hurt and steps were unsteady.

Seeing the infirmary, you were about to run into it when something grabbed you from behind and held you in place. However your panicked state only caused you to throw your body about to an attempt to break free. Yelling out Aki’s name. You pressed into what felt like baskar. Fighting against whoever was holding you back, you struck your elbow out multiple times hoping to get lucky and hit soft a bit only resulting in hurting yourself. You could hear a voice trying to speak to you but you didn’t listen.

He needed to let go- or else- The place is going to blow and Aki’s still in- The shockwave of the explosion sent you both back on to the floor, dust and smoke dusting the front of your skin as you shielded your face with your face with your arms. You hadn’t even noticed the small bit’s of shrapnel had struck your arms. As the rubble settled, the grip around you faltered and let you drop from your hands and knees. The faint red mist coated the floor and you heard screaming. Your own.

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