#cos that shit WILL dry your hands the fuck out so bad

[toytulini]

Good thing most public bathrooms have a sink and soap to wash your hands with after touching all the gross surfaces 👍 and if the sink and soap is too far from the gross surfaces idk. start carrying rubber gloves? hip holster mounted bottle of hand sanitizer? im not being sarcastic here, fr, if thats what it takes to get you to stop clogging the public toilets? just make sure you dispose of the gloves appropriately in the trash as well. maybe use a small piece of toilet paper like a napkin to hold the lid. genuine for real suggestions.

There is someone disagreeing with my post about the sanitary bags/bins because its such a large bag for such a small item and it seems like a waste.

The temptation to show them one of my pads is strong.

[landiary]

privacy ☆ lee heeseung

pairing stepbro!hee x afab!reader

genre smut.

warning dry humping, masturbating, choking, face fucking (m&f), cowgirl. spanking, overstimulation, squirt, creampie. not proofread.

a/n based in a dream i had, i LITERALLY been writing this during a whole month and finally it’s done hope u like itttt

words 3,5k

in your house, privacy was not something that your parents considered important, so you always fight demanding your privacy, where you would find shouts from your mother who said "do you have something to hide from us?" or from your father, using the same words as always "dont even think about bringing a guy home."

so you always ended up in your room with the only shoulder you could cry on, heeseung’s, your stepbrother. there were no problems with him, he was the most understanding and the one who always fought with you in some arguments, confronting your parents. although most of the time he was not at home, as he is an adult he work for living and can go a whole week without showing up.

his room? it was a complete mystery. since you couldn't maintain privacy with your parents, you kept it between the two of you. the only thing you knew was that he had a gaming pc, a shelf with some devilish plushies, and more things than any room would have.

it was a midnight friday, you used to call your friends to gossip, but in this case they wanted to play video games. you grabbed your laptop and turned it on, but it didn't take long for it to start working wrong. "this shit doesn't work!" you silently shouted out of respect for your parents who were already sleeping.

"please, y/n i told you to use heeseung's." your friend said via discord call. "im considering it, but if he found out he'd kill me." you laughed despite wanting to cry at the slowness of your laptop. your other friend, decided to speak, "will never find out. hes a man, thinks with his dick, not his head." was what encouraged you to hang out the discord call and go ahead.

this week was one of those where hee was gone for days, and you were ovulating specially to make bad decisions. barefoot, in front of the door of his room with a sign that said in capital letters "DO NOT ENTER", you silently entered. a scent of man's cologne was your first impression upon entering, however when you turned on the light, it left a lot to be desired. it was small, but considering that he was almost gone, it was just the right and necessary size. a small closet, a large bed, as was said before, his computer and the shelves of weird plushies.

"did it." you said to both girls. you felt weird. so comfortable in a gaming chair, clearly hearing every sound with those headphones, with such a large screen in front, dim led lights in the background.

you felt guilty, but you couldn't help but do it, so it happened about three more times.

the first day, it was to play with your friends. second day, you did the same thing, however you were so tired that you didn't make it to your room, so you ended up sleeping in heeseung's bed.

the third day was sunday. your friends were responsible women, so they weren't going to play video games on a sunday night, but you decided to play the sims 4 all night. you lost track of time, but you got bored quickly and deleted your game so as not to leave a trace that you were there.

the headache was present the moment you left the computer, and under the dim lights you began to explore heeseung's room as if it were an escape room. at this point, you didn't give a shit about privacy.

his closet had the most delicious smell in the world: man. all his closet were messy and the drawers even more so. the desk was something you had been looking at for a while from sitting in front of the pc, but you never realized the mess of pens and meaningless sketches that were lying around. you wanted to give him a helping hand and clean him up but the idea was that he would never realize you were there.

finally, the plushies shelf. how is it that a man can collect this shit? you may ask. he was a special guy, because his plushies were disgustingly horrible that they were even scary. you grabbed one, and you were surprised at how soft the fur was. "now i understand why he likes them." you said to yourself.

you don't know if it was that you felt high by his cologne, but a not very holy idea came to your mind after touching the plushie. still with that weird ass bear in your hands, you walked to his bed, threw yourself face down and began to look at it. it was a bear with sharp teeth and red eyes. you already knew what you had to do.

you leaned the stuffed animal's face against the bed, not intending to see it, and knelt on it. you gasped from the pressure, but you quickly got used to it. you had nowhere to hold onto, so you went to the edge of the bed and grabbed onto the bed frame platform.

the swaying of your hips against the soft texture of that stuffed bear made you stop panting and start moaning moderately. for more excitement, you lifted your shirt leaving your bare breasts to crash against the cold atmosphere of that room. one hand holding your trembling body and the other massaging one of your tits, which had a sensitive nipple.

your legs started to get tired and your body started to ask for more. bored of continuing to rub yourself with the plushie, you pushed it aside and lay down while putting your hands inside your panties. you were clearly soaking wet. "so fuckin sorry, hee." followed by a moan, ready not to move until you cum undone on his bed.

since heeseung had returned home, you didn't go back to his room. that day you preferred not to remember. you almost took the risk of him finding you, because it was the same day he came home, but you woke up to the sounds of cats fighting on the ceiling and you were able to get back to your room sooner.

he never said anything to you, he didn't complain about anything, but it was weird for you to see how he was inside your room without even knocking on the door. "come with me” he said straight and firm. "hee, did something happen?"

"don't make me repeat myself." as he came out of your room, you ran after him.

in just seconds you regretted everything you did because knowing how he is, for some reason you thought he could have noticed. and yes, you take responsibility because you knew he was very angry.

when you reach the door of his room, he opens it leaving you the pass free, two steps were enough to make him also inside and close the door very tightly behind him.

"why don't you act surprised?" he asks, sitting in front of the pc without even looking at you. "why should I be?" you answer with another question. nerves get on you, and you had flashbacks of THAT night because of how your legs were shaking right now. you couldn't do anything because of the shame and guilt.

heeseung leaned back on the gaming chair, which by the way, is reclining. "first, i realized that some things weren't in place. i thought it was simply cuz i get home high as fuck, but i decided to trust my instinct." he paused before continuing. "do you like dim lights? cuz i think you weren't smart enough to notice a very important detail with the lights off." when you looked up your eyes were terrified to see a red light flickering from a small camera.

"heeseung, i-" he interrupted you. "i watched everything, y/n." you didn't want to maintain eye contact but you couldn’t take your eyes off him, you knew perfectly well that on his screen was that fucking image of sunday night. he got up from his chair and slowly approached you. "can't believe my stepsister turned out into a slutty whore."

with a pre-assembled cigarette, he took a puff and blew the smoke in your face. "instead of doing it in your room, you needed to do it in someone else's bed?" purposely set the ironic tone in the question. he put the cigarette in his mouth and he threw you on your back to the bed, without any kind of softness. "you know what's the best thing about all of this?" your legs separated by heeseung’s knee, which wasn't that far from brushing against your crotch. "that fucking bear still has your scent." imagining him smelling the bear made you feel like a patch of moisture was making on your panties. "think i'll have to teach you manners, don't i?"

your parents weren't at home, it was just you and him, so the silence became noisy when your thoughts prevented you from answering him. heeseung’s hands gently lifted your chin, worthlessly forcing you to look him in the eye. "i know how you feel, i wouldn't be able to look you in the eye either if i had done what you did," his thumb moved from your chin to your jugular. "but i didn't cuz i do respect your privacy."

"stop talking about privacy." your demanding tone surprised him a bit, which made him laugh wryly. "god, y/n... you do it on purpose, don't you?" considering that his hand was on your neck, he pressed down. "you're a big girl... big girls take responsibility for what they do, right?" your throat wouldn't let you speak so you just nodded your head.

the image of what came next did not displease you at all. you took responsibility for your mistakes even though you enjoyed it more than in your own bed. he was furious, all he saw was red, you could tell by the way he spoke, the way he was grabbing you, and how his lips moved desperately over yours. following the kiss didn't help to diminish his strength over you, but it did help a bulge in his pants to grow.

his knee subconsciously touched your crotch. heeseung noticing this, he lowered his knee from the bed and stopped kissing you, but both were still connected by your saliva. "can't let you have the same pleasure again, princess, you were very disrespectful." he kept his hand on your neck at all time, but then decided to wipe away the saliva dripping from your mouth with his thumb. "how about you focus on me?"

roles had changed. he was sitting on the bed in his unzipped jeans, while you kept your sanity to endure the knee pain. heeseung never let you go. after a "can you do that for me, pretty?" and accessing, the two of you continued to connect to each other through touch.

his hand grabbed yours to make you touch his marked bulge. was it necessary? no, you knew how to pull and suck it very well. but this isn't about what you know or don't know, it's about your mistake and making him feel good. no matter how much your hand was guided, the sensation of its length made your mouth water. he was big as fuck, you knew it very well.

heeseung was panting from movements he made himself, until he finally let you do it by yourself. besides the fact that it was thick, you could feel how hard it was under the thin fabric, so it didn't take long for you to release it. it bounced and slammed into hee's abdomen, making him shudder. his pink tip had precum, which you decided to make disappear with your tongue. the tip fits, the rest didn't.

the only help he gave you was to grab your hair so it wouldn't bother you while you were doing yhe blowjob.

you kept making circles on his tip, but since it also needed more attention at the base, you used your hand. "just like that." you smiled a little when you heard that, seeing it in a way you never imagined seeing. all horny and needy, panting for a little touch.

you looked up to see him and you took a sublime scene. eyes shut, lips swollen from blocking moans, jaw clenched, heavy panting. the fact that you both must surely have been recorded by the cameras installed, turned you on even more. the lower part of your hips were humping the floor with need, need which heeseung felt. his eyes didn't open completely, yet his eyes penetrated your aura.

it did not help at all to maintain his position. his dick squirmed in your mouth and without warning painted your mouthwalls white, forcing you to swallow. "fuck..." he groaned before collapsing on his bed. you tried to do something to provoke him again, the first thing that came to your mind was to climb on his lap, but in one quick movement he got you on all fours.

your shorts weren't a hindrance for him, because the thin fabric was easy to handle. "i can tell you don't need any prep, don't you?" you seemed to be very wet from what he saw through your panties, but after knowing the size of his member you thought that it was impossible to get in there. "i have no choice but to fuck the shit out of you if you stay that quiet."

"no..." you said quickly, desperately. "no, hee, please." you weren't sure if you were going to convince him just by begging him. "i'll be a good girl from now on, but please..." an unconscious moan came out of your mouth, and the fabric was starting to bother you. "eat me out."

"and do you think you deserve it?" you could feel his powerful gaze against your ass. "no, i don't deserve it at all, but if my mouth couldn't handle that massive cock, i doubt my cunt will." heeseung's index finger went to your waistband and pulled it down. within seconds he took your place, kneeling on the floor to appreciate your drooling pussy.

"taste me." you dared to say. "keep your mouth shut." he said with the same tongue with which he began to gave you a head. unfortunately, you couldn't listen to him and keep quiet. at least not when he was doing his job so well.

the wet sound of you being devoured by the mouth of that hungry man made you even more horny. your moans threatened to come out and you scratched the sheets. you wondered if he did it with such eagerness because he had really wanted to do it for a long time or just because he felt like it. you didn't know, you didn't care, all you wanted to do was untie the knot he had created in your abdomen and release it all in his mouth.

"heeseung..." he had asked you to be quiet a while ago, but the way you said his name had his cock twitching. he kept the same speed, he was being so gentle that it was starting to get boring. you tried to rub your hips on him but it was impossible, his hands caught you to keep you still the moment you tried to give yourself more pleasure than he was giving you. without saying a word, he told you everything.

"can you go faster?" you asked in a low tone. Your face turned red as Heeseung stopped licking you and stared at you. "you see?..." you were quiet making eye contact with him. "it's not that hard to say what you want, pervert." as quickly as he could finish his sentence, he kept eating you like a fucking god, this time being much rougher and faster than last time.

it was already impossible to keep your arms steady with your body trembling from your growing orgasm. your moans hit the mattress drowning them, and the warmth he gave you began to create sweat drops falling down your forehead. "hee... fu-" you were confused. his tongue stopped being in it’s place at the moment you needed it most, you were about to cum. "what the-" heeseung lay next to you on the bed, his cock was again hard and exposed, he had nothing on his bottom part. "you wanna cum? show me how it's done."

in order not to look desperate, as much as you needed it, you decided to approach slowly. you lay on it, not lying down completely, and with your bare hands you lined up its cock in your pussy, brushing the tip. you couldn't help but let out a gasp, which had a quick response from heeseung. "don't tease stepsis." "you were literally teasing me all afternoon, i can do it too, can't i?" heeseung let out a nasal laugh wanting to cover up moans. "know your place princess. now, bounce on me."

you moved its tip a little more and then stuck it in your driveway. if his fat dickhead made you feel that tight, you didn't want to imagine what was going to happen to the rest of his cock. you threw your head back and filled yourself with courage to put the rest in. your throat built a sublime moan for the man's ears.

you had to deal with your own weight for a while, jumping on him slowly so you wouldn't get tired too quickly. you opened your asschecks so you could had more access. if heeseung hadn't eaten you out, you're sure you wouldn't be able to move that easily.

heeseung didn't take his eyes off your clothed breasts. he had both hands free until he finally decided to touch you. his right hand went to hold one of your hips, the other went to lift your baby tee, underneath that you didn't have a bra, so it was easy for your stepbrother to let your breasts free.

"if i had known you were going to be so good to me, i would have fucked you before." his two hands on your hips were a help to make a more fluid moves, also his words made you so wetter. you lied down "need you so much." you murmured over his ear, sending a shiver down his spine.

the pace was frenetic, both skins colliding and moans mingling in the air. a spanking echoed throughout the room, your sensitive skin soon turned red drawing heeseung's big hand.

he felt like you were stroking him, your pussy clenched by a lot of stimulation. you sat on him again, this time increasing speed and rubbing your clitoris. "you're getting tight..." he said. you kept bouncing over him even though you were already trembling over him. he could tell you were about to cum.

"can i cum?" stared you in the eye. "please, please, can i cum? i need to." he felt your legs squeeze his hips. the hand with which you rubbed your was replaced with his, that’s was his answer. those fingers were nimble and fast, you gushed around him, dripping all over his abdomen and a little from his bed.

you lay on heeseung, resting your head on his shoulder, but the two of you were still connected. heeseung continued on his own when he saw that you were already done, following the same rhythm, but causing his tip to hit your g-spot.

"are you on the pill?" you nodded impatiently. heeseung used his strength to keep your hips still, his pelvis was constantly crashing very hard and fast against your skin, pounding into you. and you who were already sensitive because of your squirt, couldn't stop complaining with incoherent sounds coming out of your weak mouth. "hee... 's too.. much!" you cried out.

finally, he split his seed inside you, and his cock came out of you.

both of you collapsed and remained silent for a few minutes. it took you a while to realize the situation you were in. hugging your stepbrother on his bed, after the best fuck of your life.

you opened your eyes for a moment to see him, he was breathing heavily with his eyes shut. to interrupt the silence and discomfort, you decided to speak. "what am i supposed to do now?" you whispered, but it was quite audible. "don't come back in here if you don't want this to happen again." he said in a tired, raw voice. he sounded fine as fuck.

"and what if i want to repeat this moment?" you get away a little from him to have a better view of his face. he barely opened his eyes and let out a chuckle.

"take note.." he started. "next time it will be in your room."

[baby-tini]

Reader sees Dabi in an alley by accident and tries to get away quietly but Dabi sees her and brings her into the alley. He has her up the wall with a hand firmly around her neck but not chocking her but enough to threaten her. He asks for her personal info and takes pictures of her for reference just in case anything happens. And he looks at her more closely and he's like wow she's always more pretty. So he thinks for a bit and makes a deal you get out in one piece if you let me fuck you. The reader already knew he was giving her a false sense of choice so she agrees. Dabi likes her submissiveness so he gave her the choice of the location to fuck. And while she is thinking Dabi is already so handsy with her. Kissing her neck and running his hands up and down her body. He's like 'if you don't pick quick im fucking you here in the alley'. And she eventually picks a love hotel not too far from them. Once they were done fucking it's the next morning and Dabi is gone but she checks her phone messages and there's a lot of photos and videos of them together in different positions and a note at the end

See you next time Doll~

💙Dabi

(the blackmail really gets me fr😭)

TW: DUBCON, blackmail, noncon pictures and video taking, a hint of coercion. Work was always so boring, you wanted something fun. There was nothing fun about serving drunk men alcohol as they thanked you with raunchy comments. Trying to grope you while you were just doing your job. Complaining about their "bitch wife" in a drunken slur then passing out. The money was good though.. and your co-workers weren't awful. But that really didn't mean anything in the end.

It was too much, you just needed a cigarette and then you could finish your shift then go home and sleep the rest of the night away. It was warm outside, pretty too. Sky full of different shades of blue, no clouds in sight. It was quiet surprisingly, considering you weren't in the best part of town. The attacks from the League of Villains ramping up by tenfold, charred bodies appearing in multitudes. Consumed by beautiful azul flames licking away at ash. Some were lucky though, if you could even call it that, some people were burned so bad they were disfigured, leaving ugly third degree burns on their face and arms. Hopefully they weren't in this part of the city yet.

But then again, the heros were on their ass.. so it's possible. Leaning your head back against the wall, you sigh out, closing your eyes for a couple seconds before you hear footsteps. Your eyes snap open as your head snaps to the sound. There's a man in a black tattered coat, he looks exhausted. Purple burnt skin attached to healthy skin by staples. Tattered clothes with mangy boots.

Holy shit, it can't be... they shouldn't be in this part of the city, not this soon anyway. You have too get out, now. You try to be quiet, you really do, but you can't be quiet wearing heels. You mistook a step, catching the eye of the assailant. His piercing blue eyes shoot up towards you, a sick grin crawling up on his lips. As he walks closer, stumbling back you trip over your heels. He chuckles at you, grabbing your arms too lift you up, "easy there doll, what's your problem, hm? You scared?" You swallow down the dry air, shaking your head at him as you try to shake off his grip. But his hold on you just tightens, reminds you of a boa constrictor, trying too keep his prey at bay.

He presses you into the wall with an-unassuming amount of strength, pressing into you as he leans down towards your ear. "Where you goin, doll? I'm not gonna hurt you... if you comply that is." Squeezing your eyes shut, you nod into his chest, trying too control your breathing. You inhale deeply before stuttering out a response. "What did you, uh.. what did you want from me..?" There's a sniffle between your words.

"Mmm, yeah, need something real bad baby, think you can help me, hm?" You swallow down your spit, hesitantly nodding at him. "I- uh... I think, what did you need Sir.." He chuckles at that, running his nose up and down your cheek, inhaling deeply into your hair. "Sir, huh? You into that dolly?" You feel your fingers twitch against his tattered coat as you shake your head at him.

"N-no.. I just- I don't know your name..so," he leans back at that. Eyeing you up and down he grins, "that's cute baby, you really don't know who I am? That makes me a little sad honestly, but it's Dabi... I like Sir much better though, what do you think?" You swallow again, your right hand rubbing up and down your left arm, as your eyes look to the side. Rolling his eyes, he grabs your chin and makes you look at him. "Nah ah, don't look away from me, I'm not done talking to you bitch." Licking your lips, you swallow before looking up at him again. "There you go, you gonna behave for? Gonna help me with my... big problem babydoll, hm? Say, "Yes Sir." Your left hand twitches before you nod up at him, "Yes Sir, i'll help you with your... big problem." He hums at you before tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear and smirking at you. "I knew you would, you're so good, huh? Gonna let you pick the location cause' you're being so sweet for me... go 'head." You sniffle before licking your lips and nodding again. He hums, rubbing his thumb over your cheek and pulling down your bottom lip. "I wanna... can we go to the love hotel.. it's only a couple blocks away.. I want my first time to be.. a little special." He grins, pulling you towards his side with an arm wrapped around you. "Ahh, little slut's a virgin, wouldn't 've guessed." You try to shuffle away at that but he just tightens his hold around you. "C'mon baby, I was just joking, I'll behave from now on, promise," he snickers. It take's a minute to get there, with Dabi trying to get there as quickly as possible... his problem continuously growing as you walk with him. The hotel is pretty run down, smelling of weed and sex. The painting is peeling from the walls as women and men alike are staggering around and theirs people making out just outside the hotel, grinding and sliding their hands down the others clothes. "This is where you wanted your special moment?" He raises an eyebrow at you as he throws a wad of bills on the check-in desk. You huff at him, "it's better then some sleazy alleyway, surrounded by heroin needles." You retort, grabbing the key from him and walking to the room. He follows closely behind not failing to be as touchy as possible while you open the door. He ushers you into the room as he pins you against the wall and getting to work marking up your neck.

You try to slow your heart rate as your hands ball in his shirt, with a hiss he grinds his cock into your thigh. Nipping at your collar bone and running his tongue over your jugular as he nuzzles his nose into your neck. You tilt your head back, giving him more access as you run your hands up his shirt. He chuckles into your neck, pulling your shirt over your head and sucking your nipples through your bra. He laughs against your chest when you let out a choked whimper, clawing at his stomach. He huffs before snapping your bra from the back and sucking nipple and playing with the other, pinching it and leaving hickeys between your tits. He grabs you by your hair, pulling you towards the bed and throwing on it face first. Your breasts flat against the rough-feeling mattress, as you try to get up, he pushes you back against it, a hand holding pressed into the curve of your lower back. "Nah ah, fucking stay.. don't need you IDing me now princess." You breathe out softly and nod into the sheets, your body relaxing against the bed while he pulls your pants and panties down, letting them fall to your ankles. You hear him groan from behind you, he runs a warm hand over your ass before slapping it a couple times and chucking when you squeeze your legs shut. "Dirty little bitch, you want it real bad, yeah? Yeah you fuckin' do, say please and I might fuck you with the tip bitch." You whine into the sheets, salty tears leaking down your cheeks and staining the sheets. He chuckles, taking a hand and pushing your head down into the mattress as his other hand unzips and takes off his pants, his boxers being pulled down in the process, he spreads your pussylips apart before leaning down and spitting on your clit, before fucking his tip into your cunt and groaning when he feels you tighten around him. Your pussy feels so good, warm and tight, just how he likes it. He fucks into you harder, using a hand to stabilize himself next to your head as he fucks into you harder. He's so big, you can feel him in your stomach, it hurts a little, stretching so wide to accommodate him as he growls in your ear. You're so deep into it, your head so fogged up that you don't hear the camera shutters or feel him spread you wide as he films the two of you locked together. He fucks you good, you'll give him that, you don't remember passing out as he fucked into you, waking up to your familiar ringtone of your phone as you sit up, breasts spilling over the blanket as you lean towards the bedside table... 'Dabi' left you a text, "I had a fun night doll, I know you did too.. or else you wouldn't 've passed out on my cock, It was good wasn't it, I know it was, don't worry you can tell me in person when I come see you again. You're the best pussy I've had in a while if I'm being honest. Pretty wet pussy too, It's like a hug for my dick, if you will lol. Also, don't even think about trying to get away .. unless you want these getting leaked to your boss and family pretty baby." A couple seconds later six pictures and four videos pop up. Now it all makes sense... he wasn't worried about being Ided, you had already seen his face, plue he gave you his name... you're screwed literally.

[millerscoffee]

reader lives in jackson and is friends with tommy, so she sees joel relatively frequently, and they just DONT get along. the reader is young and she’s got a sharp tongue and cheek that irritates the shit out of joel, who shoots back just as much condescending insults. they literally can’t be in a room without getting into it. however, the reader does it for his attention (she’s got daddy issues), and joel doesn’t catch onto this until she’s knocking on his door at midnight because she can’t sleep and she needs him and she doesn’t know how to admit it. he pulls her in the house and absolute filth ensues. he makes her blow him and then they fuck. joel is smug and condescending the whole time, and reader just becomes a ragdoll. Size kink, dirty talk, daddy kink, creampie/breeding, the works PLEASE

you got it, anon! ✨ this was requested on @atticrissfinch's page too, go check it out! i love how the same request can elicit two different stories. i did my best not to read it before i finished this (it was as difficult as it sounds cos HOO BOI 😅🥵♡)

only daddy that'll walk the line

6.2k | joel miller x f!reader

rating: 18+ MDNI

warning: big mean dom!joel™️ lmao, alcoholism (reader's dad, but also drunk!joel for a second - **this is not in the smutty scenes**), parental abuse (verbal, it is brief), smut, age difference (joel is 56, reader is 18-early 20s - your choice), size kink, dirty talk (joel's a talker more than his usual grunty self), name calling (bitch, brat, slut, etc.), light praise kink & like- two pet names, ✨ degrading language and acts ✨, edging, choking/gagging, hair pulling, creampie, breeding kink, daddy kink, spitting kink!!!, spanking, oral (m receiving), no prepping the reader, brat tamer!joel, bratty reader, if i missed anything lmk

summary: based in jackson, you have the unfortunate predicament of being friends with tommy miller and hating his brother, joel – and you have no problem in letting either of them know that! until one night you are brought to joel's doorstep.

A/N: this is my first request! thank you! huzzah!! hopefully it's to your liking, nonnie. he's big mean dom!joel™️ but with a conscience yknow?? enjoy ♡ i did proofread this, but i wrote it over the course of a couple weeks. i did my best! lol

"Dude, what's his fucking problem!?"  You roll into the dining hall in a huff.  Shuffling to your seat for dinner, you slam your tray down and Maria gives you a combined look of worry and irritation at peace being compromised.

"Who, honey?"  Tommy asks, handing you a glass of water with an entertained grin because he's positive he knows just who you're talking about.

He'd seen the two of you go at each other's throats earlier in the day when you were trying to get by him on your way out the door.  His back was to you, and he all but ignored your request to get out of the way.  Causing you to shove past him, which ensued an argument between the two of you.  Which led you to both of you gunning each other with your words until you both left in a bad mood.

Joel had his back to you, his frame fully in the doorway as he spoke with a woman in town.  It started off slow: a few clearings of your throat, a slight nudge of his back.  No avail.

"Excuse me," you shouted, pushing at him again before he finally turned around quickly with his jaw ticked.

"Do you have any manners, Christ."  He said dry and muttered under his breath, but the lady made room for you and you nodded politely in her direction.

"Maybe if you weren't so fucking old, you could've heard me!"

"And watch your fuckin' mouth."

Joel turned his back to you, not giving you a moment to retort.  Conversation over. 

"This fucker," when you look up, you see Joel coming towards the table.  The sight of him gives you a set of shivers you can't explain.  Not complete disgust, but certainly not excitement.

"You really oughta keep better company," Joel tells his brother, sitting down beside him, he frames his entire body towards Tommy so he's sitting in a way to make you feel ignored.

"I'm right here, you know."  Your head is moving so you're in the line of his vision.

"Don't remind me.  Listen, this is a family dinner.  Go find your own."

A slap in the face would've hurt less.  Before Tommy or Maria had the chance to come to your defences – both of their mouths open ready to take up for you – you stood up, shoving your tray over to Joel.  So loud, other people turn their gaze to the four of you.

"Fuckin– eat up, then."

As you storm off to your house, you hear Tommy scold his older brother but you don't look back.

---

The next morning, your father wakes you up to the sound of his own yelling for you to come downstairs.  You'd been helping out Maria and Tommy to get your own place, or at least a shared one with people your age and to hear your dad's voice; whiskey-soaked and cruel, makes your stomach churn.

After slipping on your clothes for the day, you make it to the kitchen where he's sitting at the table and reeking from alcohol even from where you're standing.

"Didn't you hear me call you?"  His words were slurred and angry.

"Yes, I'm sorry."  It's such a difference from how you talk to other people, talk to Joel, for example.  Maybe because he's the last person you spoke to, but he's the first one who pops into your head during this interaction.  You sound meek, scared to say something wrong.  A stark difference from how you speak to Joel – abandoning all worries of punishment.  Almost like you wanted that from him.

"Fuckinbetterbe – hiccup – breakfast.  Now."  Your dad all but snaps his fingers and rage creeps up the back of your throat, biting your tongue so hard you break the surface layer.  A slight streak of blood coats your mouth, but you do as you're told.

This morning is kinder than others.  Your dad did not say thank you for the pancakes, you didn't get hit or debased too much.  You consider it a win.  Once you leave your house as soon as you can, Joel's chest hits your face as soon as you turn the corner.  The milliseconds seem long when you're met with the warmth and solidity of his chest, the scent of cedar and... whiskey?  It seemed too early, even for him, to be drinking and you shake off the unreasonable rationale that he should be treated differently than your father for the same behaviour.

You ignore the similarities of him and your father all together, actually.

"Watch where you're goin'," Joel's brows are knit together, which is normal for him, but you've never been this close to see his lips from this angle above you.  You almost say something out of the ordinary for the two of you, but you reel it in quickly.

"You're one to fuckin' talk.  Morning coffee smells a lot like alcohol.  Maybe I should tell Tommy about your habits."

"Does it ever hurt your head bein' a bitch all the time?"

"Not as bad as that hangover will be around noon.  Move."

You push past the large build in front of you with a clenched jaw, unable to be around him a second longer.  "Fuck you, Joel," you mutter for good measure on your way to Tommy and Maria's.

They'd given you safety on days when it seemed scarce, and showing up felt appropriate.  You were a little closer with Tommy than Maria.  He was able to listen to you without being too judgy, and you needed that.  The lack of safety piece was a lot like how your day started off.  You walk around to the back where Tommy's working on a new hobby and you sit in front of him, letting out a big sigh.

"Y'daddy givin' you trouble again?"

Typically when Tommy asks about your father he says it like this, but today it catches you off guard.  Confusion twists your mind, but you nod distractedly.  "Yea, he was drunk this morning.  Your brother, too."

You slide that one in fast.

Tommy fists through his hair, letting out a heavy exhale.  "Shit.  We both got trouble this mornin', I guess."

"Seems like it."

You're unusually quiet, looking at the ground more than anything.  It bugs you that Joel and your father have a similar quality to them.  That they both are up reaching for the bottle, but for Joel it's not a common occurrence and that makes you worried – an emotion you don't have for him that often, if you're being honest.  You don't think about his experiences that often.  But this is the first time, really, you've even seen Joel drunk like that.  You remember Tommy mentioning that he'd given up the stuff since Sarah's passing when everyone was around a fire one night sharing stories.

As if the dots connect in real time, you look over to Tommy who looks worried sick.

"He'll figure it out,"  you reassure, chewing the inside of your cheek before heading out.  You call behind you, "I'll be around."

You've never really been good at the whole 'being there for someone' thing.

~~

Later on, you find yourself in the mess hall again for the night's dinner and you catch Maria, Tommy, Joel, and Ellie all together and it feels weird to sit with them.  They're all laughing, Joel looks sobered up.  And it seems that Tommy didn't bring up the conversation the two of you shared.  They look like a happy family and twists a knot in your throat and the proverbial knife at your side.

"Can I please spend the night at Tommy and Maria's?  Please?"  Ellie is looking over at Joel with the sweetest expression, you snicker to yourself at how menacing she actually was.  It seemed to do the trick, though.  Joel's eyes flicker over to you, and it feels like you're being caught for something.  The look is inculpatory without you doing anything.  As if to say you are witnessing something too personal, a side of him not meant for you.  "Yeah, sure," his response to Ellie sounds distant.

This gives you no choice but to walk up to the scene, to sit down beside Maria.  She gives you a welcoming grin and makes space for you.  "What'd I miss?"  You look over to Ellie who's excited to see you, but Joel?  Not so much.  His eyebrows narrow down his face, suddenly more quiet than usual, even for him.  You set your sights back on Ellie who's telling you all of the cool things she's gonna do at her Uncle Tommy's and you flash a smile that lets her know you're listening.  Or at least trying.  It's hard when Joel isn't even initiating the usual conflict with each other.  More arguing than speaking.  And the fact it wasn't happening was off.

"That sounds like a blast...," you trail off, your chin in your hands.

"If you're not gonna listen to her, don't ask her questions."  Joel barks, eyes now solemnly black in your direction.  It makes you scared and delighted at once.  Like he was back to normal.  Your normal.

"I was listening to her?"  You retort, and everyone's quiet now.  Awkwardness filling the air as the two of you battle it out.  "Maybe if you weren't so drunk all the time you'd know the differen–"  "Hey, now."  Tommy chimes in, giving you a stern look of disapproval and you feel bad.  Reflective.  Joel wasn't drunk all the time, and you knew exactly why he was this morning.

You exhale, "I'm sorry," you nod in the direction of everyone but Joel and stand up from your seat, "enjoy your family time."

On your way back to your house, you catch a glimpse of a group of people your age.  People you'd grown up with, but they didn't acknowledge you and it digs the wound closer in.  You truly felt alone.  Like nothing fit, and maybe you didn't belong in Jackson but it wasn't like there were many choices to go to.

---

More times than not you sneak into your room.  Not because you are past a type of curfew, you were an adult.  It was more, you didn't want your dad to know you were around.  Your door was locked when you climbed in through the window.

You got comfortable, spilling out of your clothes for the day and into your pajamas.  Cotton shorts and a loose tee.  Your breasts perky and nipples taut from the worn fabric.  A lot of the day was spent dealing with heavy subjects that you just wanted to let your mind escape.

Staring at the ceiling in your bed, your eyes become blurry in need of sleep.  Needing release.  Anything.

Your mind wanders to why Joel was so quiet with you when you sat down.  It wasn't like that was the first time the two of you had a shouting match in front of everyone, but this felt different.  You deduce it to Joel having an off day and let your mind wander somewhere else.

Or, at least you try.

Because when your hands explore your body under the blankets, Joel comes back to life in your thoughts.  You come back to the warmth of his chest when you ran into him this morning, the grunt that left him from impact.  What that would sound like against your ear.  Before you know it, you're shifting your thighs together, spreading the mess of your cunt.  A craving ignites your bloodstream.

It's slick between your legs when you sit up, and you're full of determination unbeknownst of where it's coming from.  The act itself is a little heady, but you have nothing to lose so why not?

Slipping on a pair of shoes and a jacket that covers your clothes, you turn your back to the window and scurry down until you're able to jump off onto the grass.  One step close to where you want to be.

Joel's house is across the street which makes it easy to get to, but aggravating when you want a sense of peace.  He's always around, shooting you a menacing stare when you're not down each other's throats but there's an ache you can't deny.  A compulsion.

You knock on his door twice before he swings it open almost like he saw you approach, but he doesn't tug you inside like you thought he was.  Doesn't make you get on your knees or fulfill any fantasy of being used.  Of... making him proud.

"What?"  His question is dry and a part of you is crushed. He isn't taking advantage of the way your legs look in your shorts right away.

"You're not the only one who had a bad fucking day," you start, but he doesn't give you a moment to push through the door because before you know it you're being pulled inside.  The sound of a slamming door somewhere behind you.  You're forced to look at him with his paw wrapped around your jaw, thumb tilting your chin up effortlessly.  It locks you in place.

"You came here.  Why?  Y'want me to fuck your bad day away?"

You gape is panicked, eyes wide now in this compromising position.  You can't think, you can't nod or say words.  You just stare.

"She's real fuckin' quiet now," Joel shoves you against the closed door, not letting an inch of space be wasted and he takes your wrist with his free hand, palming you over his hardening cock in his jeans.  "How about now.  You payin' close attention?"

You whimper, nodding softly as your fingers massage and rub, tug at anything you can through the fabric.

"Did I tell you y'could do that?"  His words make you pause, shivering at how truly empty your mind is in the moment.  Even in your inexperience you don't know you've ever felt so instantly timid.  Joel makes you fold at the first hint of misbehaviour.  You can't think of a thing to say.  Halfway don't know why you're here in the first place, and he's got you so wet from this it almost hurts.  Stickiness coats your thighs as you squeeze your legs together and you're sure it will be obvious even through your cotton shorts.

You shake your head, and he's sick of you not speaking to him.  Squeezes your face tighter, "Use your fucking words."

"No... no you didn't," you manage and you've never heard yourself sound so pathetic.

"I didn't, that's right.  You answer to me."  The snapping sound of his words causes your eyes to roll in annoyance.  He doesn't own you, he never fucking could.  The action makes his jaw tighten, his hand from your jaw in a grip that didn't hurt now is wrapped around your throat and although it's not tight, it certainly isn't loose.  "What the fuck was that?"

You're back to being silent, unable to do anything but take.

"Not asking again."

"I rolled my ey–"

"You rolled your eyes.  Roll your fuckin' eyes at me again, little girl.  You'll regret it."

A cool threat, you think.  Meaningless, even.  What possible reproach would he have anyway?

It's then you take in the house.  You'd been here once before to stay with Ellie.  It's dark, a single lamp upstairs.  All of this is background noise to the drone of your need prickling your youthful skin.  It's apparent, your age difference, when you're this close.  His rough fingers, wrinkles catching the moonlight peeking in through the windows.

"I–I'm sorry," you've been saying that a lot lately.

"Don't apologise to me.  Don't say sorry when I know you're not."  His thumb moves from your chin to your lips, thumbing over just how pliable and soft they are and it sends your nerves to the surface.  Prying your lips apart, he presses inside and you willingly wrap your lips around it to lap the pad of his digit.  "Look at that sweet thing," he says, more at you than to you, and your neck flushes being this willing to suck for him, "so easy for me to use.  I put my thumb to y'er lips and you just took it right in, didn't ya?"  The taste of his skin robs you of any other sense, his tone making you all but fold.

"Show me what this mouth is good for, 'cuz it sure ain't good at a sincere apology."

Before you know it, you're on your knees.  Joel is kind enough that he ushers you down onto the hardwood floor and you can't believe you're face to face with his crotch in front of his door, no less.

"You couldn't wait to take me to your bedroom?"

Joel doesn't reply straight away.  Instead you hear the clanking of metal, a zipper coming undone, and the slap of his cock hitting his abdomen on the way out of his pants.  You take mental note that he hasn't been asleep by his attire, but it's all for nothing when your eyes make out the shapes in the dim light.  You choke when you see just how big he is.

He tuts, leaning his head condescendingly as he takes a chunk of your hair in his palm to tilt your chin up to greet his cock.  "Aw, you think you're goin' t'my room?"  The words make you feel naïve, the one or two times you've done something like this didn't have nearly as much... compromise.  And you certainly didn't hook up with someone twice your age.  You don't have time to be self-conscious because the head of him, the leaky head of him, is tapping against your lips and your eyes roll back as you open your mouth for him.  After jumping slightly in surprise, of course.

He sighs in relief with a deigned smile, pushing his hips further.  "Fuck.  You hear that?  Nothing!  Sounds so fuckin' good, shuttin' you up."

But it's not entirely nothing, is it?  Not with your gagging, slurping up what you can but you don't know what you're doing all the way and fumbling through half of it.  Doesn't seem to faze him much.

It's obscene as it feels, him using you like this – and you don't feel an ounce of guilt when it's exactly what you want.  The switch flips on why you came to his door in the first place.  His big thumb swipes over the corner of your full mouth, "You like that, dontcha, filthy thing?"

And you hated how right he was.  You wanted to scream, kick him.  Retaliate in a way so you could still be in this submission at the same time.

Your mouth was full by the earthy taste of him, obliterating whatever feelings you had about the day.  A bad mood that he had contributions in, but it's melting from the constant thrust of his hips.  And he's keeping your head locked in place, hand gripped in the strands so you can feel your spit mingling with the underside of his cock.  Honestly, every part of his dick is covered in your spit.  It spills down your chin, threatens up your nose when you gag, leaves your eyes to water when you look up at him in a dire need to breathe fully, but he's not done with you.

Not until the loudest, lewdest pop from your mouth you've ever heard does Joel break contact completely.  Steps back until you're being observed in a patronising way.  Your gone expression.  All saliva and tears and his precum smeared over your mouth.  You can barely bring yourself to look up, but his demands seem to do the trick.

Snapping his fingers at you to get your attention, you swallow hard.  "Nuh uh.  You're not gonna get all soft on me, girl.  Wake the fuck up."

Which would be simple if he wasn't practically dragging you by your hair, making you crawl on your hands and knees until you're on your feet and you're shoved onto his couch.

All that and you're still dressed.

"Off," he's barking commands like you're a trainable being and if you were in any other state, you may reconsider this whole ordeal, but when he pushed you onto the couch your legs spread just enough for him to see the wetness smearing the cotton at the apex of your thighs and that amuses him. "not good at hidin' how much of a slut y'are."

"You think it's just you that does this to me?" You find your voice again, hoisting yourself up to sit on his couch as his cock – thick and proud – sways against the fabric caught between it.  Your tongue presses to your cheek when you make eye contact, "You're kidding yourself."

The venom drips so fluidly from your tongue, Joel doesn't make a sound.  Just peels off his clothes until he's standing there naked in his house, giving you living proof that you are kidding yourself.

The silence speaks for itself.  He is pure smug under the sight of your drooling gaze.

"It's real cute that you think y'got control over the situation n'all," the weight shifting on this couch from the cushion shaping around his knee.  Joel sits down, taking you by the scalp again to cloak you over his lap stomach-first, and you yelp in surprise when he does all of this and tugs your shorts down in one fell swoop.

With your hair in his fist, his other hand ghosts over your ass in effort to make sure you squirm for him before administering a devilishly loud spank to your ass.  "But somebody better teach you better manners.  Sure as shit itn’t your father."

You crack out a sob at that– from the contact and the truth.  You couldn't retort, you were too busy getting slap after slap against your increasingly worn ass to think about anything else.  "Lucky I ain't making y'count.  You'd have this for eternity now."

Not that it mattered anyway.  He's leaving mark after mark of his large handprint across your cheeks, probably ten more if you could even focus on anything else but finding the words to stop him.

"Please– y-you're right," tears stain your face as you bury your face in your arms.  Flinching when Joel moves, you expect another searing punishment, but instead he pulls your ass apart and you gasp at the cool air striking your cunt that's hot and wet for him.  "Joel!"

“Dirty fuckin’ girl, wet from gettin’ punished.  I talked so bad about you, and you liked it?  You’re as desperate as I thought.  Only good for gettin’ my cock wet.”  And it’s like a lever is pulled when your slutty little smile plasters over your face with him out of view.  Not that you had much time to gloat, or to experience the pleasure of living in your own fantasy because Joel’s got you pulled again.  His thick thighs spread apart when he maneuvers you so willingly to sit between his legs.  Right where he wants you.  Right where you can feel the throbbing pulse at your folds.  He tells you to take off the rest of your clothes and you would be a fool to do otherwise.

“Bad girls don’t get the luxury of bein’ opened,” that Texan drawl slips over your ear when he holds the base of his cock, slicking himself through your folds, you gasp and wriggle against him – his grip tightening harder.  Silently warning you if you make another move it’s over, you’re done.  It’s over.  All the while the searing stretch of him causes your cunt to flutter and clench around him.  It’s too much, too overwhelming, and he won’t let you adjust long enough.  “You’ll get over it,” but it’s not reassuring.  He still sounds in control despite his laboured breathing and when he can, he moves his hands to grip your hips and guide you down on him.  You scream, a knee jerk response wriggle away from him, but this position doesn’t quite allow for that.

“Be a good girl.”

That folds you, quite literally, as he moves his hips down to pound up into yours, using you like his own toy to get himself off with.  And it’s just the incredible sounds of your squelching cunt and his balls tapping against your folds.  The fucking isn’t frantic, but it certainly isn’t soft.  He’s rough with you, a hand traveling up your back to grip your hair so your neck is back in place and he lifts you upright so your back is curved, neck craned so if you tried, you could make him out – upside down.  “Poor thing couldn’t help it, had to get a daddy to take care of her.  You want that, kitten?  Wanna be used and as daddy’s little fucktoy – only good for makin’ me cum?”  his hand sneaks around to the front of you with his free hand, he presses and digs into your pubic bone to make you feel exactly where he is.  “Put a baby right here.  Make everyone know what you fuckin’ did.”

You whine, eyes rolling back at the thought.  It was so obscene, nothing like you’d ever even heard of before.  Where did he fucking learn how to talk like this?  Your brain is swimming while your sticky sweetness coats his lap, clawing at his thighs for any sort of stability, but it was dizzying how he had you.  How his grunts filled the air in between slaps like he had your hips placed at the perfect angle for him to work you.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?”  His gritting teeth by the shell of your ear, he keeps you secure within your hair to snake his arm around the front of you tugging and rolling at the sensitive nubs of your nipples.  When he feels you appear to drift off, those rough hands supply another smack, but to your tits this time, your fingernails clawing into his thighs involuntarily as you squeal in surprise.  You tighten at that, fluttering around his cock and you feel it at the edge.  So close you can almost taste it.

But he knows you’re close, too, and there’s no way in hell he’s giving that to you.  Not when you’ve barged into his house like this, not when you’ve done nothing but be an insufferable brat to him since the moment he came to Jackson.

Joel hovers you over his lap, and your heels dig into the floorboard.  His hips still, keeping the very tip of his cock inside of you – you feel panic flash over your body.  “No,” it’s the first word you’ve uttered in god knows how long and it sounds desperate.  Any hope of getting an orgasm swirls down the drain, and it’s set in stone when he pushes you on your back – the lumpy couch digging into your skin.  “No, no, please.  Why!”

His eyes could burn a hole through you.  Like a hungry dog, his body hovers – shoulders stooped, head down when he pours his gaze into you.  And he likes what he sees.  Legs open and begging, willing to do anything to get him back into you.  Your cunt glistening, even in the dull light and he can tell it’s pulsing.  “Poor thing’s clampin’ around nothin’,” he teases, grunting when his knees meet the couch cushions – another tell of his age.  But you, you’re too preoccupied in taming the ache between your legs to comment.  It burns, coming back to a fixed state you realise how stretched out you were and it’s more than overwhelming.  To know you haven’t been used to completion, all hope draining from your face.

“Joel,” your breath is shaky underneath him, pupils blown and wet when you make out his features, “Joel, please.  Please, I want this.”

“Darlin’, I know you want it.  Everybody in town knows you want it,” his words make you sob a whine as they approach closer to your neck, the delicate graze of his beard dances at your pulsepoint and you shudder.  Hips raise and he’s quick to slam them back down into place.  “If you want me, ‘Joel’ ain’t whatchu say to get me.”

And if you felt hopeless before, you really do now.  Unable to do anything but debase yourself for your own pleasure.  You’d heard it earlier, the way he referred to himself with a name that brought up mixed feelings at Tommy’s.  You swallow down embarrassment, looking him in the eyes – which were faded obsidian, your fingernails dig into your own thighs as if to brace for what’s tempting to slip out of your throat.

You hated that he made you nervous.

And you hated the hold he had over you.

But he had it, there was no doubt about it.  He had it.  He had you.

Your jaw ticks forward, fully aware of your clit screaming for attention and exhale shakily.  “Please, daddy.  Please, I want this.”

“Eh,” Joel muses, shaking his head, “I don’t believe ya.  Really gotta hear the desperation in your voice.  Maybe if I,” his hand reaches for his cock, slapping the sloppy head of it against your folds and that– that sends you.  Takes you to a different destination entirely because for the first time all night there’s attention to that bundle of nerves, and he knows it.  He knows you need this in order to give everything over to him in full.  “Daddy!” you screech, pelvis jutting up in full inclination and without a single word, Joel’s cock spears into you all the way to the hilt.  All the way to your cervix.

His hands, emitting heat and wrapped largely around your hips, locks you where he wants you like some animal in heat.  It forces you to bring your legs up into a position you aren’t sure you’ve ever been in – thighs against your stomach, by your sides.  It’s so, “deep,” you whimper, head rocking as your mouth flies open and he’s delivering you thrust after thrust of pleasure so wrecking no noise comes from you.

“Is that what you needed? Fuckin' brat,”  Joel is still able to tease, but even he isn’t immune to how tight you are around him.  Your fluttering core begging for release as it moves in and out around him – as if it’s doing its own begging.  “You wanna be filled up to the brim with my cum, babygirl?  Needy fucking cunt like you only good for matin’ like this.”  Your skin burns at his words, your body convulsing as you do your best to keep it together.

That’s when Joel���s hand wraps around your throat, a line of spit falling into your mouth and you willingly drink from him.  “You hold off, you ain’t gettin’ it tonight,” you pout for a moment, not fully understanding what he means by that, but he clarifies when his hips get sharper, more precise.  As if his cock is hooked inside of you, not letting a drip of precum spill out of you against your cervix.  “Y’ain’t cummin’, but I am.”

His grip around your throat gets harder, and you swear you can see every vein in his face rise to the surface when he uses you.  You’re limp, all thoughts washed away – his cock thick and long, you aren’t even sure how he fits it all inside of you but he does.  The edge of your stomach bulges as he works you, his neck cranes back to expose his neck and it’s too much to take. For both of you.  His hot cum ropes cords inside of you, sticking to your walls.  Filling you up is an understatement with how much he has to give you.  It’s as if you can discern the moment his seed grazes your cervix in its sticky texture.  Your head is swimming at the sound of your animalistic grunts, he looks so… fucking hot like this.  His name is replaced with ‘daddy’ more easily than you care to admit.  You do try not to chase your orgasm… a part of you does, anyway.

But you’re defiant.

You can take yourself there without him telling you to, and in fact the opportunity to disobey him is just what you need to send yourself creaming all over his cock.  You gasp, eyes wide before they roll back and you’re fucking yourself on his spent cock that somehow still has life to it.  Even for his age, he can still keep it hard for you after his seed coats your insides.  “Daddy, daddy, daddy,” becomes part of your breath, and you’re shocked he doesn’t pull out of you even though his hips are still.  You don’t notice it until you come down considering you’re using him.  Did he say you could do that?  As if you’re woken up by an alarm, you jerk at the sensation of the orgasm you snuck.  Without his permission.  You look up, and his knuckles are bleached around your hips.  He looks so menacing like this, scary.  You shake your head, swallowing hard in your attempt to fix things.

But it’s too late for you.  You’re a brat at the end of the day, and he has to train you.  Make you realise the error of your ways.

His cock is still buried deep when his middle finger plays where the two of you connect.  A whine escapes you, shivering now, not quite sure what he’s going to do.  He’s lethally quiet, you aren’t sure how to react.  He’s contemplating what to do to you, he’s not met someone who’s as menacing as he is.  As unwilling to give away freedom.  Not since… his nostrils flare as he inhales.

“I told you not to do that,” Joel stating the obvious makes you clear your throat, his cock twitching inside you in the aftershocks sends your teeth to bite down on your lip and you shake your head, “I c- I couldn’t help it!” You lie, and he knows it.  Compels him to prod that middle finger just above his cock inside you and the stretch is too much.  When you reach out for his forearm, his other hand darkens over your wrist, pinning it back in a way that hurts.  You wince in tandem with it and his monstrous hook of the digit inside you.  You’re so full, “It’s too-it’s too much!” you tap at anything you can, but he’s not listening.

Instead, the pad of his finger has no problem in touching that spongy bit inside of you – especially since your cunt is stretched from his cock and he can see it.  His cum tempts to pool out of you, but he shoves it back in, working his finger inside you repeatedly but he’s just rubbing.  He’s just rolling his finger against your g-spot until you feel so overstimulated it brings more pain than pleasure.  “Came like you knew what you were doin’,” he finally remarks, thumb rolling over your clit and you can’t take it.  “Please, pl– it’s too much!  Daddy!”  That rhythm is sly, though, in making you come undone.  Again and again.  As you’re on the peak of what would be an explosive orgasm, Joel pulls out of you entirely.  His cock, his finger.  His warmth is a distant memory when he stands up, palming over his cock.  How did he get hard again?!  He would deal with that on his own time.

Your moan is choked out, thighs pressing together for any sort of… something.  A release, a grind.  You’re left panting and begging, your tits perky and heaving for him.

“What did I say, little girl?”  He climbs into his clothes, one button up at a time with his flannel.  “You won’t be cumming for a week with that fuckin’ attitude.”

You’re so lost in chasing a feeling, soon to disappear as it could arrive that all you can do is whimper and nod.  “I’m so–” his hand grips your jaw, forcing you to look up at him.  Spit covers your face, and you hum like a kitten at the feeling of his hot saliva down your cheek, “What did I fucking say about apologisin’ when you’re not sorry?”

You wipe your face, sucking the spit off your thumb with a satisfied smirk.  “Fuckin’ loved it, daddy.”

He swallows then, his head shaking in disbelief over how much of a filthy bitch you are.  “Yeah, yeah you fuckin’ did.  Belong to me now, you understand?  Gonna let everybody know what a slut you are for this cock.”

And you would be lying if you didn’t experience a swell of pride in those words.  You’d be down each other’s throats again in no time, but the look of ownership that adorns his face over you is too much not to bask in.

“A week?”  You study him, eyes wet and round, look up at him and you see his cheek twitch in response.

“Gonna be two if you keep it up.”

You let out a faint sigh, resting your head back on the armrest.  “Yes, daddy.”

“Good girl,” he coos, leaning down to press his lips at the shell of your ear.  Fingers tucking his cum back in your hole.  He relishes in how hot you feel under his fingers.

“Now get the fuck out of my house.”

taglist: @cool-iguana - dm to be added!

[orphicrose]

The co-host (Alastor x femreader)

>

Summary: You are Alastors Co host in life, perhaps more. But are separated by a sudden death. When you are finally reunited in the under world, it is up to Alastor to figure out why you don’t remember him.

I’ve written like 5 other parts so do let me know if more is wanted

—-❥-----------

“Hello and good morning listeners!” The radio in every household beamed with that familiar Louisiana accent. Brightening up their breakfast and drowning out the commotion from out in the busy streets. “Today’s broadcast is brought to you by your one and only Alastor. Of course it is! When isn’t it” he finished his sentence with a friendly chuckle. 

“Today should be expecting dry weather and a muggy air! Oh what wonders this country brings us, right y/n?” he beams over to a presence that lingers next to his. “ it sure does Alastor!” The second voice replied.

”silly me! Listeners, today I am joined by my new co-host, Miss y/n l/n! Get used to that name folks, she will be involved in your morning routine as much as I am. I’m sure of it” The radio was interfered with cracks and breaks in between words. Old piece of junk, never lasted long in hell. Especially when you buy it second hand from a drug dealer. The channel was lost, y/n desperately tried to get it back but was instead surprised with the voice of Jack from Jack the Ripper of bad news. His broadcast about sharing only bad news of hell. Which was basically everything that happened.

Y/n clutched at her radio, frustrated. It was the only piece of property they owned since falling into this shit hole.  What makes it worse is she remembers everything. There was no peace after dying, there was an eternity of falling and waiting. Wondering what the afterlife may bring you, wondering if heaven and hell really exist. Then comes the spiraling questions of, what if i end up in hell? No i couldn't, i lived a good life. But if i do end up in hell, i will never see my family again. What if this is the end, what if just fall forever. Then, just as you think this is your life now, you hit the floor. But there is no warm welcome of friends, happy to see you and inviting you home again. Instead, cold glances, threatening gestures and a crowd of unfamiliar faces watching you from every direction. 

Y/n had used her life experience to their advantage, struggles in life made their struggles in hell easier. It was almost the same, just without the morals, and friendly faces. She managed to land a job in a club for a while, that was enough to pay for hells equivalent of a studio apartment. Pay check to pay check was the new normal, which wasn't necessarily unfamiliar.  The main difference now was, no one knew her name. But not for long.

The club she worked in was like any other club, just with less shits to give and more fucked up to get. It was a strange change from a loved media presence. But you gotta do what you gotta do.  Over time, though, you make friends with the regulars. Especially when you're the one pouring the drinks. This particular day was just like the rest, except for a certain, unknown and unwanted guest to be welcomed into the establishment. Y/N spent her shifts pouring drink after drink, cleaning the glasses that were downed and then pouring more drinks. Occasionally having a conversation with a customer, few of them being pleasant or remotely normal. 

"Gimmie a drink love" a slurred voice yelled from the other side of the counter top, his body slumped over like he'd been shot and arms wailing about like he needed to be. 

"The usual?" Y/n offered a smile, before turning her back to him to grab a glass from the counter. 

"You know me" His wrinkled face made an attempt at a wink, while the rest of his body fought for him to stay vertical.  The drink was in his grasp in just seconds of asking. You learn to get quick in this line of work. "Hey, y/n, you noticed that creeper staring acha?" He gestured his head towards the booth in the very corner of the bar. 

"No, but then again, all of you are creepers" She turned again, trying to get back to organizing the shelves but he was persistent. "if i'm not mistaken, that is the sin of the wraith ring"

"You probably are mistaken considering you're drunk as an old pimp, Travis." The mans attention span for Y/N quickly faded, and he found himself back on the dance floor. Spilling his new drink over everyone while he popped his head up and down in the crowd. He was bound to be back soon. Music was rattling the glass counters behind the bar, making it hard to hear anyone without having to shout. So when the man from the boot appeared behind y/n, she couldn't hide the fact she was startled. His professional demeanor was a contradiction to his chilling appearance. What could only be described as a Goats skull was in place of a human face, wearing an old red top hat that was supported by a pair of curvy horns. He carried a finely carved stick, complimented with a gold crows head on the top which perfectly fit the curvature of his hand. And his eyes, were just cesspits of nothingness. Y/n was trying their best to find some sort of life in this moving entity, but it felt as if there was none. Till he spoke.

"I'm aware you have been waiting for this encounter to take place, Miss L/N" Nothing could have prepared her for the breeze that his cold tone brushed over her.

"I don't know who you are, sir" If she wasn't careful, he might be able to hear the fear building up in her throat. If her suspicions were correct, though, then it would be even harder to contain. 

"Yes you do, don't play games with me. I'm not here for that, I'm here for what i am owed." He paused, tapping his long nails on the wood countertop. The only barrier separating the two of them. "Your soul belongs to me".

An upbeat tune played in the background of the radio tower, accompanied by a soft voice humming along to it. Cleaning after hours wasn't a hard job, but it wasn't what she wanted to do. She wanted more. More money of course, that was an issue during the depression, but also a name. For people to hear her talking and to be entranced and want to listen, just like how Alastor drew in so many people. 

"Oh, sorry dear. I didn't realize anyone was here." His voice startled her for a brief second, before her eyes focused on the man in the doorway. 

"It's ok, i didn't even notice you where there to be honest sir." She responded with a smile, continuing to sweep the floor of the confined space. "What are you doing here? I thought the tower was locked till 6am for broadcasts."

"Yes, it is. But i enjoy the solitude from time to time." he still lingered in the door way, now hesitant to come any further and ruin the newly cleaned floor. "Y/N, isn't it?"

"Yes sir. I apologize, I'm usually finished sooner than this but i guess i was day dreaming" She laughed nervously under their breath. Now moving to the station to turn off the music.

"Leave it on" He stepped in the the room. "I like this song", encouraging you not to turn the music off as he sat down at the booth Infront of you. "And call me Alastor, dear, we are technically collogues."

She smiled agreeably, sitting down in the chair opposite. "Thank you, Alastor." she sighed as the seat melted into them, feeling as if they hadn't taken a break in years. There was a brief silence between the two, letting the music carry their unspoken conversation. 

"Your voice" he began again, pausing while she hummed in acknowledgement. "You have a voice for radio. Your pronunciation, your tone, the way you present yourself. Is that why you got a job here?"

Their conversations lasted until the early hours of the morning. Laughing, chatting, listening and then yawning when they realized how long they had been up for. Y/n reminisced, missing the simple and easiness of Alastor's companionship. The familiarity and comfort of those times she had with him. 

"your sole belongs to me" His voice echoed again, waking y/n up from their trance. Music from the club came beaming back into her head. "The running is over now. I'm calling my favor. Don't worry, you'll benefit from it, but you wont like it"

[spidernuggets]

Hi! First time requeating something and i hope i’m doinv it right, but if you want could you write Reader meeting Jason’s family? Like, titans + bruce and his siblings? Ans Reader is nervous cause she doesn’t know how they’ll react to her and she wants to make a good impression and she’s anxious n stuff? Tysm! 🩷🩷

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

OH MY DAYSSS, your first time requesting?!?! And you picked lil ol' me?!?! Got me blushing and kicking my feet. ANYWAYS, i hope this fic brings you justice to your request. If you don't mind, I'll split it into two, half for Titans, other for Batfam!!

BATFAM (based on WFA):

You were pacing around the steps of Wayne Manor. Jason wanted to bring you up to the manor with him, but he wanted to make sure all his siblings and Bruce stayed in check before you arrived. In all honesty, he was more concerned about his family's behaviour rather than yours. He also doesn't really care what his family thinks of you. If they don't like you, screw it. He'd pick you up, throw you into a plane, and move to a beautiful island with you.

You were biting your nails, but then realised that you were standing in front of the richest man's, let alone Batman's house, and biting your nails might make you look bad for Jason. Then you looked at your nails. The polish was chipped, and your nails were jagged. And your skin seemed dry. God, no, now they were sweating?!

One little thought led to another. How did your outfit look? Shit, is it creased? Is that a stain? Maybe you should've worn something more formal, more expensive, perhaps.

Your body moved faster than your brain could think and turned, wanting to make a run for it. But before you could take another step, a certain butler opened the doors.

"Ah! And you must be Ms. Y/n, correct?" The old man asks, a welcoming smile on his face.

Your shaking hands wiped the thin sweat away along your pants as you turned and an awkward grin on your own face. "U-uh, yeah. Yes, I am. Hi." You stammer, reaching your hand out as Alfred shakes it.

"My, you're as wonderful as Master Jason decribed you as. Come in, come in," he steps aside, letting you in.

Okay. Maybe this whole family meeting thing isn't as bad as it-

"So you're Todd's girlfriend?" A short boy who appeared out of nowhere says.

You look down on him. Thinking he'd be as nice as Alfred, you tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, smiled and replied, "Yeah, I am. You must be Damian?"

Damian tilts his head to the side and hums. "Do you participate in any form of combat?" He asks, as if it's a normal question to ask someone you meet for the first time.

"Uhm... No.?"

"Hm. I would've thought Todd would have dated someone similar to him," the kid mutters. That statement made your knees shakier than they should have.

"Alright, scram, brat." You've never felt more relieved to have heard your boyfriend's voice. The last time you felt this relief was when you were held at gunpoint, and luckily, Jason showed up right on time.

"Tt. You were the one who wanted us to meet her," Damian scoffs.

"Yeah, and now your time is up. Thanks for letting her in, Alfred," Jason says as Alfred nods and heads off to fulfil other responsibilities, and Damian also leaves, most likely to tend to Titus. "Don't worry about Dami, sweet thing. He's like that to everyone," he kisses your forhead.

You lean against his shoulder. "But I need everyone to like me!" You complain.

He rolls his eyes. "I'm the only person who needs to like you. If no one else does, fuck them. Besides, there's literally no reason for anyone not to like you," he wraps his arm around your shoulders, guiding you to the living room where everyone was.

"Okay, everyone. This is Y/n," Jason says upon walking in. The second everyone's eyes were on you, you wanted you run away, jump out the window, have the floor swallow you whole. Anything to get you out of this situation.

You were sure there would be questions bombarding you like Damian's, like, "Are you skilled in any area of combat?", "Do you know how to use any weaponry?"

Or even questions like, "Do you really like Jason, or are you in it just for the money?", "What’s your social status?", "What’s your occupation?"

What you didn't expect was a blonde girl rushing over to you, embracing you in a warm, tight hug.

"Hi! Oh my gosh, you're Y/n! I've been dying to meet you! But Jason's been hiding you away for a while," she frowns at Jason, who was behind you. Another girl, short black hair, stood behind the blonde, waving at you with a small smile. "Oh, yeah! I'm Stephanie, that's Cassandra! You can call us Steph and Cass!" She points to Cassandra.

Jason holds onto your shoulders behind you. "Okay, okay, back off, Steph," he tries pushing you away to meet the others, but Stephaine is just so keen on meeting you.

"Ugh," Stephanie scoffs, linking your arm with hers. "Jason always was so down bad for you. He literally wouldn't stop talling about you," she says while giggling while also making you blush.

Jason flicks Stephanie's forhead. "Ow! Asshole," she mutters, letting go of you. "Anyways," she starts pointing around the room. "That's Tim, Dick, Duke, and Barbara!"

"Hello," you shyly say, waving to the group.

"So you're the girl that was able to swoon Jason," Dick got up from the couch and walked towards you. "Finally, nice you meet you. My compliments to you. You really know how to tame him," Dick smirks at Jason, who was currently shooting daggers back at his older brother.

"You sure he didn't like... pay you or anything to date him?" Tim shouts from the couch.

"Quiet, nitwit," Jason yells back.

"Behave. The both of you," a deeper voice behind you said, making you flinch.

As things were getting good, you turned and saw the man of the house, making you feel smaller than you already were. "Hi- Ahem, hello, Mr. Wayne," you squeaked, feeling the need to curtsey.

Bruce smiles down at you. "Bruce is fine, Y/n. It's a great pleasure to meet you," Bruce extends his hand out to greet you, and you hope he doesn't notice your clammy hands and shakiness as you shook his hand.

"It's great to meet you, too. All of you," you say back to the rest of the family before looking back up at Jason. He sends you a wink back, telling you that there was nothing to worry about.

A bark came from behind Bruce. He steos to the side and reveals Damian and Titus. The two walked by as Damian muttered that they might as well join the rest of the family.

Your nerves were suddenly put aside. "You have a Great Dane?" You gasped, holding your hand out to the dog. Titus slowly walks up to you, first sniffing your hand, then taking a lick, accepting your affections as you begin to pet him.

"Mm. She's an acceptable partner, Todd," Damian looks up to his older bother as he observes your encounter with his pet.

"Yeah, whatever. I wasn't even looking for your validation," Jason bites back. But deeo down, he's glad his family liked you. This meant less work of him trying to praise you if any of his family tried to criticise you or your relationship.

"So. How was that?" Jason asks, walking you out of the manor, offering to give you a ride home.

You smiled up at him. "Fun. Went better as expected."

TITANS:

He kisses the back of your hand. "Told you they'd love you, sweet thing. Not as much as I do, though."

"Nope, I don't wanna do this anymore," you say out of nowhere. You and Jason were already at the entrance of Titans Tower. And Jason being his bragging self, couldn't stop talking about his amazing, beautiful girlfriend to the rest of the Titans.

And a certain comment from Rachel, saying she doesn't believe this girlfriend he's talking about is real, Jason promised to bring you up to introduce you to everyone.

You were eager to meet everyone, but on the way to the tower, you started thinking about everyone and everything. They're all badass heroes, some wirh powers. And even those with no powers can still fight like crazy. And you were just some mundane civilian who didn't even pack a punch.

If you were a member of the Titans, you also wouldn't believe that Jason is dating the kind of person he's describing. And don't get yourself started on his ex-girlfriend.

Rose fucking Wilson.

You heard plenty of her. How she used Jason and the Titans, yet somehow is still a member?

And how she's also a badass who can use swords... And how she can't necessarily die... and how she has cool hair and an eyepatch...

Jason grabs onto your wrist. "And why not?" He asks, preventing you from walking away.

Your shoulders dramatically slump, and you pout. "They're gonna hate me! And don't say they won't, because if they don't hate me, then they'll definitely think I'm some lame person who just lies in her couch all day," you felt like you wanted to cry. You weren't sure if you were overreacting, but this isn't just some simple introduction with other people. This is meeting with Jason's teammates. A group of heroes, vigilantes, who saves lives for a living!

Jason'a gaze softens, taking into account your anxious state. "Hey," he gently calls out, brushing your hair away from your face and cradles your cheeks. "They're not gonna hate you. But, listen. If you don't want to do it, that's okay, I won't force you to," he kisses your nose. The light touch makes you giggle.

You take in a deep breath. "No, it's fine. I want to meet them."

He raises an eyebrow. "Are you sure? You don't have to-"

You hold his hands in yours, turning your face to kiss both of his rough palms before leaning into his touch. "I'm sure."

Jason leans his forhead against yours in reassurance before the two of you head up in the elevator.

You couldn't help but laugh after feigning annoyance when the elevator doors open, and the first thing Jason said was, "I told you she's real, motherfuckers!"

You noticed a green haired boy clap his hands in victory, receiving cash from a buffer guy with a superman symbol on his black shirt, and from a purple haired girl. You also noticed a thorny Rose Wilson, sitting beside the other girl, keeping a sharp eye on you, but you made it your best to avoid any form of contact with her.

Jason had an arm protectively wrapped around your waist as he walked you further into the lobby.

Dawn was the first one to walk up to you. To be honest, if you weren't head over heels for Jason, you probably would've tried swoon Dawn. (I'm sorry, she's just so pretty)

"You're Y/n?" She asks as she walks to you.

"Hi.. yeah, I am," you reply, shaking her hand.

"Aw, well. Jason told us all about you," she sends a knowing wink to Jason. If she knew Jason didn't want her to say anything to you yet, she would've told you all about how he came up to her, asking about what girls like, how to ask you out, how to plan the perfect first date, etc. But that didn't stop her from teasing and testing Jason's shyness. "He honestly couldn't stop talking about you. Especially ever since Rachel said you weren't real," she sends a look and raised eyebrow to Rachel. Rachel just rolls her eyes and smiles at the memory before turning to talk with Gar.

"Well, I can promise everyone I'm a hundred per cent real," you reply, leaning closer into Jason's hold.

"Jason, where have you bee- Oh. Are.. you the girlfriend?" A guy emerges from the hallway, walking over towards you two.

"Hi, yeah. And you're Dick?" You shake his hand, too as you introduced yourself.

"Yeah. Jason's talked a lot about you," Dick says, raising his eyebrows at his younger brother.

You couldn't stop yourself from smiling, hearing about all the times Jason has talked about you. "So I've heard."

"Well, welcome. I'd love to get to know more about you, but Jason. I need you to help me with a few things. It was nice meeting you, Y/n," Dick says before leaving, walking back where he came out from.

Jason rolls his eyes before stepping in front of you, holding your shoulders. "You gonna be okay on your own? It's only gonna be for a bit," Jason asks with concern.

You smile, holding onto his face before kissing his cheek. "I'll be fine, Jay."

He brings you in for a hug. "Ignore Rose. If she says anything, tell me, okay?" He whispers into your ear. You hum in response, kissing his shoulder before he lets go, kissing the back of your hand, and running off towards the same direction as Dick.

You were wrong. You were awkwardly standing there for a few seconds, not knowing where to go, what to do, or what to say. And from the corner of your eye, you could see Rose smirking at your current situation.

You thanked the gods when Dawn came back with Hank.

"It's Jason's girlfriend!" She almost squealed.

"Did he pay you or anything to date him?" Was the first thing Hank said. Dawn hit him against his bicep.

"Be nice," she said to him.

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered. "Nice to meet you," he says, offering you a fist bump, in which you retunred one to him.

Then, from behind them, you saw a vibrant pink haired woman. Damn, all these people have cool hair.

"Oh, you must be Y/n! I'm Kory," She doesn't hesitate to give you a welcoming hug once ciming up to you.

"Hi, yeah, I am. Cool hair," you try to say with confidence.

"Hm, Jason was right. You are sweet. And pretty," she winked. This made your heart race faster. "You want anything, sweetie? A drink? Food, snack?" She asked while walking over to the kitchen.

"Oh, no, I'm fine. Thanks." You call back out to her. That was a half lie. You were sort of in need of a drink. All these nerves and handshakes got your throat drying up.

Hank grunts. "You sure he didn't pay you? You're like the complete opposite of Jason Todd."

You laugh. "Yeah, he's a hot head a lot of the times."

"All the time," Hank interrupts.

"Yeah, fine. All the time," you correct yourself. "But he's actually really sweet. And real attentive too," you quietly admit, knowing Hank probably wouldn't let Jason hear the end of it.

Hank nods in surprise. "Well, maybe he isn't such an asshole. I'll still find a reason to kill him, though," he grins before walking away.

Dawn shakes her head. "He's not gonna kill him. C'mon, sit." Dawn leads you to the couch to sit on the other side of Rachel. Kory comes up, placing some snacks on the table for the others and hands you a bottle of coke as you quietly thank her.

"Rachel," Rachel introduces herself, offering her hand to shake.

You smile, "Y/n," you shake her hand.

"It's so great to meet you! I'm Gar," the green haired boy smiles. "Rach and Conner believed that Jason was lying about you being real. But thanks, because I just gained ten bucks!" He laughed, waving the money around as you laughed with him.

"So, Y/n," Rose chimes. You and Rose haven't officially met, but knowing what she did to Jason made you automatically hate her. "How did you and Jason meet?"

It was an innocent question that the rest would probably like to know. So you didn't show any signs of disliking yet.

"Oh, uhm, we met at the store I work at-"

"What store?" She interrupts, making a nerve inside you twitch.

"Uhm, a book store. It's also a cafe. I own it," you meekly reply while still maintaining your posture.

"Oh. You know, for a person dating Jason, I expected another vigilante. Or, y'know. Somewhere along the lines," she smirks.

You shrug. "Mm, well. Jason's a bookworm. Not a lot of people know that," you feign an innocent smile to Rose.

"Oh yeah. He told me some stuff about theatre and how he was quite a theatre nerd himself-"

"Thespians. He likes them to be called thespians." You interrupt her. Your shaken nervers were replaced by spite, wanting to put Rose in her place.

"So," Gar tries to break off any possible dispute. "Y/n, how long have you and Jason been dating?"

"Uhm.." You pretend to give it some thought, wanting it to seem like a longer time than Rose anticipated. "Six? Reaching up to seven months now," you reply, knowing that Rose and Jason only lasted less than a month.

You mentally punch the air in victory as Rose rolls her eye and gets up from the couch and leaves, saying she's getting herself coffee.

At the same time, Jason comes back with Dick, sending him a couple of scoffs and glares after saying, "He took too much time from him away from his girl."

"Seriously," Rachel says, scooching closer to you, "What do you see in that guy?" She quietly and genuinely asks, since all her previous encounters with Jason weren't really sunshine and rainbows.

You smile to yourself and look over the couch, watching Jason flip Hank off for no reason, your smile growing wider. "He makes me laugh," you replied.

"So? Wasn't so bad, was it?" Jason asks as the two of you walk out of the tower, ready to go home. His arm is laying around your shoulders as your head lays onto his own.

You hum in response. "They're really nice."

He kisses the crown of your head. "What about Rose? She give you any trouble?" He asks with genuine worry.

"Nothing I can't handle," you smile up at him, kissing his chin.

"That's my girl," he says back, pulling you closer, capturing your lips against his.

You guys see what i did there... at the end... was the reference obvious...

HOPE U ENJOYED, ANON!!

[starbluekindo]

Vampire Vic x Werewolf reader

Fun plot point is that its like forbidden lovers (you know vampires and werewolves hate eachother bla bla bla) and so the reader and Vic try to keep that shit hidden from the public because they both have high standing within their supernatural community

so i was really excited writing this, but i was also a little unsure about what to do and how to do it since i've never written anything like this (and it wasn't as easy as i thought it would be), BUT if you - and the other readers- like this i can try to turn it into a small series.

warnings: au, a little angst i guess, mentions of blood, mentions of the boys (butcher more specifically), dead humans, a little homophobic and sexist if you squint, reader just wanting to love victoria in peace - i don't think i forgot anything.

the night was restless. the full moon shone high in the sky, its lights bathing the dense forest that separated the werewolf and vampire territories. you patrolled the borders with your pack, but a dark foreboding grew in your chest.

something wasn't right.

the silence was too dense, suffocating. the night seemed to announce that something bad was coming - and bloody hell, you always feared the worst. suddenly, the silence was broken by a high-pitched scream, unmistakably human.

and then, the smell of blood hit you like a punch.

“vampire” you heard one of your companions spit in disgust and then a large giant wolf ran past you quickly, not bothering to ask your permission or wait for the rest of the group.

“fuck! follow him!” that would be a bloodshed. you knew the temperament of your group, especially butcher's - he never respected your authority.

when you came to clarity, the scenario unfolding before your eyes was a nightmare. one of the vampires, practically a child, had crossed the border to hunt, something unthinkable. three human bodies lay on the ground, brutally torn apart, blood still running through the dry leaves. butcher had his claws stuck in the vampire's neck, trying to rip his head off.

“release him, butcher” you ordered when you saw what he was trying to do, that would only make the situation even worse and put your pack in a war with the vampires. "now".

"he crossed the damn border and killed under our noses!" he roared, his eyes blazing with anger. “this is an insult, a declaration of war!”

“war will start if you don't release this vampire now” your voice was firm, the situation wasn't the best but you knew that acting on impulse would only make everything worse.

your hands shook. this couldn't be happening. you knew that if this was exposed, the fragile peace between vampires and werewolves would shatter. and worse, it would put victoria—and the relationship you shared��at risk. your eyes fixed on the vampire, the invader, as the chaos in your mind screamed for control. how did this happen?

“summon the council and don’t let this get out of here, that’s an order.”

the pack meeting was called hastily, with only the closest and most trusted members — the upper echelon, the wolves with experience and power to influence the direction of leadership. the small group was gathered in a circle, under the shelter of tall trees that blocked the light of the full moon, with the smell of damp earth in the air. the atmosphere was tense, heavy with the expectation of action.

you were in the center of the circle, feeling the heavy gazes on you. everyone was waiting for a decision. the massacre on the border had deeply shaken the trust among the wolves, and now, everyone wanted justice.

butcher, as always, was the first to break the silence.

"there's nothing to discuss here," he began, his voice firm and full of hate. "that bastard crossed the border and killed humans. we already know what has to be done." he crossed his arms, his muscles bulging with pent-up fury, and his eyes glittered with mischief. "we want his head."

a murmur of agreement passed through the others present. one of the older wolves, known for his coldness and prudence, took the floor soon after.

"butcher is right. we can't ignore this. if we don't take action now, we will look weak. this isn't just an offense — it's a breach of the treaty. it's a direct affront."

you felt the weight of those words. i knew the situation was delicate, that tensions between vampires and werewolves were always a powder keg ready to explode. but at the same time, you knew that giving in to demands for revenge would only bring more blood and a conflict that could be devastating for both sides.

“i understand what you’re saying,” you began, keeping your voice controlled even as the pressure grew by the second. "but taking his head won't solve the problem. it'll just burn everything down."

butcher took a step forward, his eyes fixed on yours, as if he was waiting for that answer. "burn everything down?" he growled. "do you think this place isn't already on fire? they've already crossed the line. they've already killed innocent people. and you want to let it go? we need to act with strength, show that we are not weak!”

you took a deep breath, feeling the heat of butcher's fury radiate. "i know you're angry. i am too. but we need to be strategic. if we kill this vampire now, we will be declaring war. are you prepared for that? a war that could end us all?"

butcher laughed, a short, bitter sound. "and since when have we been afraid of a good war? let them come. let's cut each of them down and see if they're still as brave without their fucking fangs." his eyes glittered with the desire for violence, and you knew he was ready to dive head first into any conflict that came his way. “or are you afraid of hurting someone in particular?”

butcher's insinuations did not go unnoticed. some of those present exchanged quick glances with each other, and you felt your stomach sink. he was playing dirty, planting seeds of doubt about your loyalty.

“this has nothing to do with fear,” you snapped, voice firmer. “this is about survival. if we act without thinking, we will all pay the bill.”

another member, a woman with sharp eyes and known for her wit, intervened. "so what's the plan? are we just going to let this go? how are we going to explain to the humans what happened? and more importantly, how are we going to keep the pack under control? they're demanding an answer. if you don't do anything, you're going to lose the support from many.”

she was right, and you knew it. the pack was restless, on the verge of revolt. they needed action, justice. but the justice they sought was immediate and brutal, something that would only worsen the situation. you needed a solution, and fast.

“i’m not saying there won’t be consequences,” you replied, aware of the eyes fixed on you. "but let's do this the right way. i'll talk to victoria. she has control over her territory, and we'll make sure this vampire is punished — their way. if he crossed the line, they'll take care of it. but let's not we will be the ones to ignite this war."

butcher let out a short, sarcastic laugh. "do you really think you can trust them? that they'll take care of this? don't fool yourself. she'll protect him. this vampire will come out unscathed, and we'll look foolish— weak."

“that’s not going to happen,” you said, more to yourself than him. “if there is no justice, then we will reconsider. but until then, we need to remain calm.”

you needed to see her

hours later, you met victoria in the secret hideaway where you always meet, away from any prying eyes. but today, the environment carried a suffocating weight. victoria was already waiting, dressed in her usual elegant attire, the usual coldness in her eyes. but you knew something was out of place. she looked paler than usual, her lips tight.

“this is going to spread, and fast,” you begin, voice hard and controlled, but anger bubbling beneath the surface. "one of yours invaded our territory, victoria. he broke the treaty and killed humans. if this isn't resolved immediately, there will be no going back."

victoria stares at you, but doesn't back down. she crosses her arms, maintaining a rigid posture, while her mind works overtime. “i did not authorize this attack.” she said calmly, so calmly that it bothered you.

“but it happened” you replied through gritted teeth, taking a step closer to the brunette “and innocent people were hurt… do you realize the seriousness of the situation?”

“no one needs to know what really happened”

"this isn't simple, vicky!" the anger finally escapes your voice, the words sharp as knives. "you think you can just hide the shit that happens in your territory and everything will work itself out? if my pack finds out that i let this go without fighting back… it will be the end of me. the end of us.”

you see the pain flash in her eyes, but only for an instant. victoria approaches you, her cold fingers gently touching your hand in an attempt to calm the growing storm inside you. "i promise you," she says, her voice softer, almost pleading. "i'll make sure this never happens again. but you need to trust me, like you always have."

your hands shake, not just from anger, but from a deep sadness that nestled in his chest. the weight of what you are — vampire and werewolf, enemy races — felt unbearable now. the fear of losing victoria, the only person who truly understood you, was suffocating.

"if this goes wrong..." you whisper, voice almost breaking, "there are no more secrets. everyone will know what we are. who we are."

victoria stops, her eyes fixed on yours. “then i’ll make it work. i won’t lose you.”

the tension between you remained, an invisible wall, built by years of hatred between your races, but now reinforced by the fear of losing each other. silence hovered, thick as the dark clouds that gathered in the sky. the weight of victoria's words echoed in your mind, but you couldn't shake the feeling that something bigger was lurking, something that even she couldn't control.

“it’s not just my pack we have to worry about,” you said, turning your face to the sky, smelling the approaching rain. "other packs are already watching. if they see the slightest sign of weakness, they will attack. and if that happens..." you hesitated, swallowing the lump in your throat. "i'll have to choose."

victoria remained silent, her face impassive, but you knew she understood the gravity of what was being said. the choice between her and your family, between love and duty to your people, was a decision victoria never wanted you to face. but now, it seemed inevitable.

“hey, look at me” her hands cupped your face, making you look at her again “i’ll fix the situation… just trust me, please darling”

you wanted, you really wanted to believe that it would be resolved, but even if your promise was kept, you knew that the trust between the races would be broken. however, you didn't say anything, just tilted your head and let the brunette's lips meet yours in a passionate kiss full of care and longing.

back on their home turf, things are also tense. the pack leaders questioned your decision not to retaliate immediately. suspicious gazes follow you every step. you feel the weight of the silent betrayal, the secret you carry in your heart.

that night, alone under the starry sky, you look at the full moon. the silver glow brings comfort, but today, it seemed like just another reminder of the gulf that separated you and victoria.

the feeling that your relationship was hanging by a thread is almost suffocating. how long until someone finds out? how long until this falls apart?

you were a good leader, at least you considered yourself one, but at that moment you didn't want to have that weight on your shoulders. you wanted to have victoria, you wanted to love her and be loved in return.

honestly, your desires seemed more distant and impossible every day.

[threepandas]

Bad End: Royal Red

Have you ever seen blood BURN like the sun?

I'm not even sure "burn" is the right word for it. Writhe? Scream? HATE? Like a standing on a cliff, staring down at a valley consumed in flames. Old forests full of life... burning. Dying. Wrong.

The sky choked with thick black smoke. Tar-like and staining. The ROAR of it. Moisture ripped so utterly from the air, it hurts to breathe. Heat so absolute as it rises... you can not imagine there was ever, EVER life here.

But there was.

And it was once beautiful.

Ancient and green, bird song and morning mist. Moss beneath bare feet and the gentle quiet that is no quiet at all. A thing ALIVE. Breathing. Whole. Now gone beneath the flame. The carnage and hunger. As animals flee for their lives and your men die, desperate to hold back the all consuming spread.

Nothing but FIRE remains.

But have you seen BLOOD burn? The weeping wounds of a soul? The... WRONGNESS inside a man, catch light? A shade of ever overlapping crimson. Drying blood somehow just as fluid as the fresh. Old wounds and new. Somewhere, the depth of scars...

BURNING.

I have.

I do.

I wish I did not.

There is something... WRONG with his Highness. Now, the Crown Prince. He... He HAD brothers. Some were awful, others indifferent. But all of them? All of them are gone. Terrible accidents, allegedly. One after another. And they were NOT the only one's. Consorts, lovers, mistresses and supporters. Allies and anyone unfortunate enough to be in his Highness' way.

But of course, I can prove nothing. And to SUGGEST such a thing? That would be Treason. Defamation of a Royal. That it is TRUE? Holds no bearing. Is utterly irrelevant. Even if I HAD had the proper training, even I'd my Gifts WERE formally recognized, ultimately? Politics is King.

It's not supposed to be. But when has life ever been so kind? When has "supposed to" EVER won the day? No. Such talk gets men killed. And dying once? Was quite enough for me.

Though I HAD to wonder...

How does a Protagonist fuck up SO BADLY, that they somehow send their Hidden Route target, into an empire conquering, murder spiral? That's not "a few bad choices" levels of making a mistake. THAT'S? Damn near deliberate sabotage and I just wanna talk. Violently.

I WOULD too, if I wasn't pretty certain they were either on the run or in exile.

All I had wanted? ALL I HAD EVER WANTED?? Was to just be set dressing. Soldier A, the unimportant background gaurd. A nice, faceless, grunt. Maybe chat with my equals of plot significance, a potted plant and yonder chair. Then? I could take my pay, go home, and live quietly.

But NO!

I get stationed following the Seventh prince. Mr. Hidden Route himself. Which? Okay, fine. Was HOPING for gate duty, cause NOTHING happens on gate duty, but FINE. But THEN? Half my co-workers are ASSHOLES. Like... child abusing assholes! The FUCK?!

So? Oops. Accident on the stairs! Whoops! Lemme help you there, man. Oh? Did I ACCIDENTALLY crush the hand you used to hit that kid? Golly! Gee, I sure hope the healers can fix that for you! (I fucking know they both can't and wouldn't if they could. You can't afford SHIT.) Lemme HELP you there, AGAIN, BUUUUUDDY~☆!

Threatening you? Why I would NEVER! That's illegal!

You know... like hitting kids.

And OTHER shit they try to pull. Never DID get around to updating my Gaurd Forms. Whoops. Turns out being able to literally SEE the malicious intent on a fucker? Makes it pretty easy to know who to watch. DID get jumped a lot though. Stabbed a few times.

I just? Wanted to watch my favorite Otome game play out, you know? Get payed while doing it. Sunk cost fallacy kicked in. I've been here since I was a PRE-TEEN. Signed up for training, a ten year contract, and everything! I can LEAVE now... but like? Go WHERE? And honestly... I'm not actually sure I CAN.

Things are... Tense.

Or maybe they're just tense for me? 'Cause... Cause something isn't right. It's that burning blood color. The way it fills a room. Reaches, covetous, like staining hands. Writhes and drags itself against everything. Something unholy, between a lustful grind and the dragging of the wounded. It's not even demonic. No... somehow? It's WORSE for being utterly human.

There is something deeply wrong with the man I am sworn to obey, and I do not know how to escape him.

Because I definitely SHOULD.

I'm not stupid. He's been... been keeping me, SPECIFICALLY, close at hand, since becoming Crown Prince. The SECOND he was able to assign his OWN gaurds? I am suddenly honor gaurd. Yet not. I have basically no job but to stab just behind and to the side of him and look pretty. (For the given quality of THAT.) And...? Even the other gaurds are looking nervous.

It's NEVER a good thing when powerful people suddenly pay attention to an individual gaurd, servant, or maid. They tend to end up... hurt. Dead. Worse. And given recent behavior? Well... I've been getting offers to quietly arrange an "accident" for me.

Not so sure it won't get everyone involved killed.

He wasn't always LIKE this. Yeah, he was... different, but it wasn't BAD. Just... off. A bit weird. A color I hadn't seen before and couldn't for the life of me figure out. It had been... well, nothing. Not even grey. I KNOW grey, it's apathy or depression. Emotional flatness.

But his Highness? Like mist. The lite distortion of water droplets. Colorless and near weightless, drifting gently along. It was as though he DIDNT have emotional responses to anything. Not even flat. Just... non-existant. Which? If so? That's okay! Really. Takes all types. Something to NOTE, yeah, maybe accommodate? But fine.

It's not like there were psychiatric meds or doctors we could get for him. If he was different, so be it. We just had to work around that. Plan accordingly. Worst case scenario, maybe keep him away from small breakable things. But? He seemed benign. I shrugged and moved on. Accepted him as he was.

Maybe went out of my way to explain things with logic more then feelings. Even when I WAS explaining feelings. Ethics. Pretty much anything else he asked. Which... wait a second...

Fuck.

A nameless gaurd SHOULD NOT know that much about psychology or politics. Economics on the macro or micro scale. Oh god DAMN it Wikipedia! You betray me a lifetime away?! Et Tu random research binges!?

Okay. Okay! So maaaaybe? THATS why he's keeping me close? Cause yeah, I'm pretty stacked these days. No internet kinda leaves nothing BUT time to train and read... and books are kinda hard to get, at my level. So like? Maybe a second set of eyes?

....doesn't feel right though. Close but missing the obvious mark-ish.

I try to think of my interactions with the prince. BEFORE murder-spiral kick-off. He sought me out a lot. I interfered so many times when his Tutors crossed lines, they got me kicked out of the main building. He started skipping lessons to self-study. I got put on patrol? He learned my patrol schedule. Would invade the gaurd mess.

Got punished for that, I think. Vicious cycle. I get punished, he gets upset, wants to make sure I'm okay, I get punished for his basic empathy and being a kid. They kept reassigning me. I got stabbed that first time. Sent too...

Wait.

I try to pull up what I know of the Game in my brain. The Hidden Route and the other Routes. We are.... WAY off script. Not off GENRE... just...?

Mentally I set the Game aside. Shifting in my guarding position at the Crown Prince's side. He continues to work. The soft rustle of papers and the scratching of his pen, filling the silence along side the clink and shift of my armor. We are in the sun room, surrounded by flowers, supposedly for the better light.

To be honest, I hadn't ever BEEN in this room until I was basicly expected to tail the Crown Prince like a glorified, armor wearing, pet. And too be honest? Given that the REST of his honor gaurd were ACTUAL KNIGHTS? It was well beyond ridiculous at this point.

I was a club bouncer surrounded by elite special forces, in fancy little armor, that I could in NO way, have ever afforded on my own. Oh, and I wasn't really allowed to talk to them. So... WHY? Why, EXACTLY, was I here? There was no realistic way anything could get PASSED all those knights. I certainly wasn't PROTECTING the Crown Prince from SHIT.

And... and he hadn't attacked me, thank God. No touchy hands "service to the crown" shtick. Demanding things I couldn't refuse him. So THAT wasn't it...

Right?

My brain insisted it wasn't. That I should keep going over the list of possible reasons. Consider This or That. But... Something in my gut? Rang like a struck bell. Some non-physical part of me. That peice that twined, like gentle golden ivy, up through my body, too wrap around my eyes from the inside. Not enough, maybe, to get me into some high and mighty school or apprenticeship... but ENOUGH.

Because Magic was, is, and always has been? Divine. For all that HUMANS fail while using it. For every MORTAL error in it's implementing or understanding. It's a drop of the Divine. And? You can not LIE to the Gods. Hide, perhaps, but not LIE. Even then, you'd have to know what you're hiding FROM.

Kinda hard to hide from "using past life knowledge to deduce motivation" when that's not exactly a thing people can easily guess I HAVE. I get away with shit. Know things I really shouldn't.

Am.... am desperately trying to convince myself that the twinge I just felt? DOESN'T mean what I think it means. Even as a cold sweat breaks out over my skin. As I desperately keep my expression placid and my stare straight into the middle distance. Ha ha.... oh god. No no no, oh god, no...!

Okay. OKAY! Lying to yourself will NOT keep you safe! We can do this! Nothing is happening. We just... just have to play it cool. NOT. PANIC.

He DID want us for sexual reasons.

But... more? More, maybe. I poke at the feeling. Try to frame my thoughts as absolute statement as see if I get a twinge again. To get a feel for the edges of whatever is happening. I can not protect myself, if I do not KNOW from what I protect AGAINST. Just sex? No. Was I a convenience choice? Also No. Revenge for something? A sudden certainty that I'd be DEAD if it was.

Oh, THATS not concerning at ALL!

Okay, keep prodding. Uuuuh... He has a thing for big muscle-y dudes with scars? Strong yes. Okay! Getting somewhere! Kinda thought he liked the petite, girly girl-ish typ-? Weirdly hollow No? Strong. Okay, what the FUCK. See THIS? THIS is why I wanted to be a fucking GAURD. No weird Protagonist of any adventures bullshit! Just a 9-5 with a paycheck at the end!

Uuuugh. Okay, soooo... likes? Strong dudes.... and I was the closest? No. Okay! Getting somewhere! Other strong dude... isn't available? Yes, but I am looking at it wrong. Great. At least I know what that feeling MEANS. Still wish it would just follow up with a "and btw, here's the answer~☆" but, fuck no! Why would life make anything EASY for a guy?

Fuck it! Random shit at the wall time. He's definitely in love with the Protagonist? No. Wait, really? Then why...? No. Stay on track. He's in definitely in love with ME? I wait, utterly expectant, for the twinge that will mark a negative. Half cursing myself for not checking with the Divine sooner. There had been no excuse. Distractions, yes, but no excuse.

It feels like getting sucker punched in the gut. HARD.

Takes everything in me, not to wheeze and double over. That... that wasn't a "yes". That was so FAR beyond "yes" I'm not sure there are spoken, written, or even conceptual WORDS for it. As absolute a CONCEPT of Yes as I have ever felt or probably ever will.

It... It did NOT feel good.

That was a WARNING.

Like the Gods them selves had taken me by the back of the neck, stepped close, to whisper in my ear as they drove their fist into my gut. "Pay Attention To This. RUN. You Need To RUN. There Are Monsters Here."

My eyes feel like they are burning. Like I haven't blinked in too long. Colors a bit too bright, details too sharp. The edges of reality cutting like splintering, glittering, glass. Everything has a GLOW to it. It's never done that before. Is... is this panic? Fight or Flight forcing me to draw deeper then I ever have before?

Or are the Gods paying attention? Displeased by what they see?

The room around us is... is so quiet. Beautiful. Rare flowers, teeming with life. Decorative and pampered little song birds, flitting from roost to roost. The rich scent of rare tea and expensive cologne, mixing with armor polish and the scent of green, living things. Sunlight makes his Highness' hair glow like it was made of it. Pale gold and filled with light.

If I could not SEE... his Highness would be beautiful.

But I can, and instead? He's terrifying.

I think I'm shaking. I don't understand. The room around me picturesque. Peaceful. Golden and filled with gently beautiful things. Light. It feels mocking. Paper thin. Like some cruel trap laid out over a pit of tar. As though, like in the cartoons of my old childhood, the INSTANT I become aware... acknowledge the reality of my ACTUAL surroundings?

The paper thin veneer will rip, no longer able to hold my weight, and I will be plunged into the horrors just beneath the lie.

How.... HOW did-?! I... I CAN'T-!

I put everything I am, into letting nothing show. E-Everything is FINE. Do not turn around. Please. Please, Gods, do not notice me or turn around! I breathe. Breathe. Can't do nothing now, but breathe. Panic is the mind killer. I remind myself of that. People do stupid things, when they act in panic. Think. THINK! Plan. THEN act! Breathe.

How? HOW did this happen? Trace it back. Find the source and we can... can maybe unhook the noose. Fix this? Escape? Run and keep running. Find the edge of the map and keep going. Where did it...? My brain, maybe my magic, finally takes pity. Connects the wires that have long been JUST missing each other. My mental list of Genre Troupes. My history with the Prince.

The blood drains from my face.

Oh fuck. Shit! Oh fuck, oh SHIT. Yandere. He was a YANDERE hidden route character! Wasn't he!? It's the only thing that makes sense with the-! No, no, he should still-! But, wait. No. No, no, NO. Oh god! I pulled a combo attack. "Childhood best friend" even though we WEREN'T. I was basically the closest in age to him! AND the only non-asshole! So that's "Different From The Others"!

Oh mother FUCKER, I pulled a "Only One Who Cares About Me" while SERVING him! His fucked up little squirrel brain would have taken that as "belonged to him" only to have me "taken away" when I was assigned elsewhere! Every time I kept someone from ABUSING him, I was making it WORSE. Every time they reassigned me, somebody was "trying to take me away"!

Oh sweet merciful FUCK, I got STABBED!

No WONDER he lost his absolute shit! He was unhinged to begin with! But instead of latching on to Protagonist and being HER problem, he latched on to ME! Why did no one warn me he was-!? Actually, I have no idea. Non-Just-Straight?! That! One of the THAT! Like FUCK I'm asking! He'd think it was an invitation, probably!

Because he NUCKING FUTS! Squirrels in the brain! Def Con OH SHIT!!

Yandere! Shit! I'm gonna di-!

"Something's upset you." The crown prince's surprisingly deep voice says, breaking the silence. I flinch. "I can feel your magic moving. An attack, perhaps? Or is someone saying something they should not."

He... oh, great, amazing! He can FEEL my magic. The magic INSIDE me body. That magic. Yeah, I don't feel stripped naked and on display AT ALL. Thanks! Definitely not invasive, your Highness! Still, I have to answer. Carefully. Very, VERY carefully.

He hums, disbelieving, as I reply. Lifting his pen and setting it aside. A graceful hand lifts. The mere flick of his fingers. "Move" it means. "Come where I can see you". Imperious and royal. Casual in it's assumed control of me. Why would he believe anything else, after all? He IS a prince. The CROWN Prince. Future KING.

He DOES own me.

I keep my breathing even. Keep my hands from visually shaking by tightening my grip on my spear. Even, professional, steps. Forward. Turn. Face your ruler. Your BETTER. No eye contact. Even breathing and eyes to the horizon. You are a statue. Just... just be a statue. No thoughts. You can do this.

It doesnt help. I can FEEL those pale, pale eyes. Striking and blue. Rare flower petals or glacier ice, they have been called. Compared to all sorts of haunting things. The Crown Prince is a beautiful man. That dangerous sort of pale beauty, that make for excellent portraits, of bright and holy things. That fools the eyes into thinking surely, SURELY the soul before your is Good. Trustworthy.

How could anything so beautiful be DANGEROUS?

Be corrupted and insane? A killer. A madman.

A MONSTER.

I stand at attention. Where he can observe me. His little toy soilder. Kept like a PET, I know realize, and try not to feel like I am being picked apart. Like a mouse in some tigers cage. The far wall sure is fascinating. Mmmmhmm. Very... very wall-like. Glass and artfully arranged flowering vines. Very pretty. What a wall! Ten stars for wall-ness.

The near silent shift of fine fabrics. A tap. Nail on high grade armor alloy. Just the smallest of sounds that nonetheless seems deafening. I barely stop myself from jerking back in alarm. Can't prevent my gaze from snapping downwards. To the arm outstretched, the elegant hand curled, the well manicured finger nail on the single outstretched finger... that has placed itself right over my heart. I freeze, utterly.

"You're getting nervous, aren't you? Growing uncertain. I've been so busy planning ahead, I've forgotten the here and now, haven't I?" He muses. That finger I should not be able to feel, that somehow feels like a knife trailed along my skin, glides slowly down. A meandering path down towards my belt. "I've neglected you."

The finger hooks into my belt. I am dragged forward a few stumbling steps with a deceptively strong tug. There is significant muscle, hidden by the almost waifish cut of his Highness daily wear. The eyes watching for my reaction are predatory. Intent. It was as though there should be fangs, in that pleasant, politician's grin...

"My steadfast knight, warrior of my heart, you've been so patient for me... so LOYAL." He rolled the word across his tongue as he said it, eyes locked on me with the sort of interest hunter keep, more a sigh then a word. Somehow.. Somehow the concept became OBSCENE, once in his hands. "So good for me. Even after all this time. Soon, Dearest. Soon we won't have to hide. I promise."

I had NEVER been a knight. Not even CLOSE to qualified for the training. Not even a single branch, magical or otherwise. Worse? I knew for a FACT? We had never, not ONCE, been lovers. No stolen glances. No fumbling youthful hands. No "hey, let's explore this closet!". Nothing. I? Had been studiously professional, if a decent human being.

This was ALL him.

What narrative had he painted in his head?

My heart pounds. My brain somehow both gibbering hysteria and unnatural calm. I... I think I may be disassociating. But all I can think, all I KNOW, is that I can NOT, Under ANY Circumstances, break the illusion. Do NOT argue. Why YES, deeply insane FUTURE KING, I DO love you so VERY much! Hey, don't mind me, just left the phone running. Gonna go for a walk. Buy some milk.

I watch, pleasant service industry smile feeling plastic on my face, as he leans forward. Rests his head against my armored chest, as though we were lovers. Just stealing a quite little moment alone. His hand slides along my belt, fingers hooked into it, the brush of his knuckles feeling far filthier then any groping hand. I can HEAR him breathing me in.

Obscene. How is he making such chaste contact so deeply obscene? He let's out a pleased hum and I want a shower.

"Kneel for me?" So soft I almost don't catch it, it takes a moment to register the words. This time, I can not stop myself from tensing. I know he feels it, but can not bring myself to care. "Shhhh shh shh, none of this, my Darling. To your knees before your King. Sweetheart, my dearest. You're going to be serving me there for the rest of our lives. It's okay. Your King won't rush you. He knows how shy you are. How nervous."

W-Well THAT wasn't treason! At ALL! Ha ha...! Oh god.

Hands at my waist. When did the other one-?! I'm shaking. Smile. D-dont set him off. This is fine. I... I shouldn't be ABLE to feel their heat, through my armor. Somehow I do. I want to back up. If I got to do this? At least let me-!

But, no. Pressure. Hands on my hips dragging me down, watching eyes expectant. In stops and starts... like a seizing automaton, my knees bend. Down I go... I guess.

Almost instantly, there are hands unbuckling my helmet. Sliding it off. Stealing it away. Fingers slide through my hair. Cup my cheek. A thumb running itself across my mouth. The prince seemed to loom. Hungry as he stared down at me.

"Beautiful. My loyal knight is so, SO beautiful. I am going to give us the world. Take what is ours. No one will EVER hurt us again, Dearest. I will keep you forever. Dress you in armor and roses. Mine and mine alone."

There was madness in his eyes. Obsession. Is...is that what that color meant? That burning, terrible blood? It's too late. Oh god, it's too late for that to help me. I smile. Do not argue. Fear and fear and fear. I have to get out. On my knees, it is a terrible view of what's to come, should I fail. The Games's utterly fucked. I no longer care.

I have to get out.

The King, after all, has gotten sick lately.

[exhaslo]

Hi I have a weirdly specific request for a Miguel fic! I was watching a fav movie Dirty Dancing and the part where baby and Johnny are practicing and they do the crawling to Love is Strange, I was wondering if you could write a one shot of the reader attempting to make Miguel less stressed at his office by dancing for him and when the “hey Sylvia? Yes Mickey?” Part comes on she’s crawling over to him and on his lap and smut ensuuuuues and he plays along cos he can’t help it. SO SORRY IF that’s so jumbled idk how else to describe it 🤷‍♀️

Sooooo, embarrassing enough, I've never seen Dirty Dancing. I could never get into those movies as a kid or even now. But I'll watch that scene so I have an idea of what you mean and I'll do my best to write it!

Also, sorry this was late!! I can't catch a break at both jobs for the holidays!

Warning: Minors DNI, dry humping, smut, almost caught, teasing

------------------------------------------------------------------------

No one liked working at Alchemax and if you did, you were insane. Alchemax was a company that would literally drag your soul down to the depths of hell if you even dared to relax. Shit, it was impossible to quit because the CEO would drug everyone who tried to leave. Especially if they were a good worker.

You fell into that group of good workers; however, you knew better than to quit. Once you saw some of your coworkers acting funny, you were stuck. At least you had something to keep you going at this horrible job.

Your sexy crush of a coworker, Miguel O'Hara.

You would do anything for that man. Give him coffee-check; help with a project you knew nothing about-check; stay hours late to help Miguel with an assignment-check. You were down bad for that man, and honestly, you were ready to make your move.

Miguel was a man of few words. He was one of the coworkers whom many avoided because of his resting bitch face. His tone felt cold and cruel, but hell, you loved that about him.

"He's pissed again," One of your coworkers whispered.

Your ears perked up, knowing full well that they were talking about Miguel. Already walking with a skip in your step, you went to Miguel's office with a nice large cup of coffee in your hands.

--------

Miguel threw his chair across the room, letting out a frustrated yell. Everyone in the lab had left already, leaving Miguel all alone in a fucked up lab. Breathing heavily to calm himself down, Miguel cussed before pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Miguel?"

Ah, music to his ears. Miguel inhaled deeply, listening to your sweet voice as you entered his lab. You were the most beautiful women he had ever laid eyes on. Oh how Miguel wanted to eat you up. To have you in his arms, crying out his name.

"(Y/N), brave as always," Miguel said softly.

You just smiled, handing him a cup of coffee. His hands grazing over your fingers just for a moment. Miguel felt the urge to hover over you, watching that creeping plush cover your cheeks.

"The others are just lazy wimps." You said with a chuckle. Miguel hummed in response as he took a sip,

"Indeed. Now I have to clean this mess and do a mountain of paperwork."

"Why don't you have the others clean?" You asked. Miguel glanced at you,

"Ha, and why would they do that?"

Miguel watched your smile turn mischievous . Oh, how he loved that look. You were such a trouble maker sometimes. Always giving Miguel a rise with your antics. Another thing that Miguel loved so much about you.

"Weeeeell, maybe because you are suuuuch a genius and everyone wants to willow at your feet." You teased, bumping your hips against his, "How about I help you with your paperwork later?"

"So you aren't going to help me clean either?" Miguel hummed, resisting the urge to grab your hips.

"Nope~ I have a report to finish."

Miguel watched as you skipped out of the lab. Your ass swaying ever so slightly. Damn, Miguel wanted you bad. Licking his lips, Miguel just closed his eyes and relished your fleeting presence. He was going to have to be patient until later.

---------

You held your cheeks as you paced back and forth in front of Miguel's office. Everyone had gone home for the day expect the two of you and now you were about to seclude yourself in a small room with him. You had already planned this all out.

But you were still nervous.

"Wow, that really is a lot of paperwork." You whispered, entering the office. Miguel scoffed,

"I told you,"

You huffed your cheeks out since Miguel had his stressed tone. Slowly approaching him, you kept a smile as you readied your plan. Miguel kept watching you, wondering what you were doing as you placed your phone on the counter.

"(Y/N), music isn't going to help." Miguel said with a soft sigh.

"Not with that attitude."

You swayed your hips with the music and stroked your hands across his shoulders. You could feel Miguel tense up. With a soft pull, you motioned Miguel towards you and kept dancing to the rhythm. Miguel was still not moving with the groove.

"Loosen up, let your body do what it wants,"

Miguel felt a shiver run down his spine as he followed your movements. To let his body move to how it wants? Hopefully you won't regret those words. Placing his hands against your hips, Miguel felt drawn to you like a drug.

"There we go, but someone is a little handsy~" You cooed.

"Moving to the music," Was all Miguel whispered.

You felt your heart race as Miguel's hands kept roaming your body. You teased him and pulled his hands back a little, which ended up with his face near your chest. Immediately letting go of his hands, you bit your lower lip as Miguel grabbed your ass.

"Eyes up here," You sang, moving his hands away.

You shuddered softly as Miguel brought his face to your belly. You gently raised his chin, making eye contact with Miguel. He looked different. You weren't sure what it was, but it was starting to turn you on. This dancing was getting sexual.

Miguel's hands were groping you ass and stroking up to your stomach. You shuddered once more, moving his hands again. Miguel licked and kissed your stomach, making you shiver.

"Miguel," You muttered, gently moving him away.

Miguel inhaled deeply, as he moved away from you. As you kept dancing, Miguel kept his eyes on you. He got on his knees and knew that this was going to be hard for him. He was losing his control against you.

"Hey, (Y/N)" Miguel hummed to the tune. You turned towards him, sliding over,

"Yes, Miguel?"

"Could you call me your lover boy?" Miguel's smirk started to show as he sang to the song. You pressed your body against his chest,

"Yes, lover boy?"

Like instinct, Miguel grabbed your face and brought you in for a deep kiss. Neither one of you hesitating as your tongues started to battle each other. You crawled onto his lap, straddling him as Miguel won the battle of your tongues.

You moaned softly as Miguel kept his kisses against your neck while his hands kept wandering your body. You felt like you were on fire. Everything Miguel did was turning you on more and more. Gasping softly, you started to rub your hips against Miguel's crotch as he kissed your chest through your shirt.

"That's not in tune to the music," Miguel hummed.

With a bite, Miguel undid your button down shirt and bra with his teeth alone. You were surprised and honestly, impressed. Complying with his demand, you started to grind to the music as Miguel kissed and sucked your nipples.

"Hah, hey lover boy~" You hummed to the music. Miguel picked you up and laid your back against his desk,

"Yes?"

"You aren't going to fuck me to the rhythm are you? Because I don't think I can last that long," You chuckled. Miguel smirked to your response, his hands already working on your pants,

"Is that a challenge?"

You wanted to whine and complain, but Miguel had continued his kisses and grinds. Once he undid your pants, Miguel made sure to do the same to his. His dry humping getting a bit rougher and faster as he kept playing with your breasts.

You flung your head back from the friction, moaning in the process. Who would have known that your plan was going to work so well. Arching your back, you cried softly as you felt your growing orgasm. Miguel was rubbing you in just the right spot.

"Miguel~" You moaned out, trying to move your hips more.

Miguel grunted softly as he made quick work of your panties. He immediately stopped rubbing against you and brought his fingers to your swollen clit. His lips captured yours again as he rubbed against your sensitive bud, bringing you to your first orgasm of the night.

"Miguel, are you still here?" One of your coworkers knocked.

With haste, you dropped down under the desk while Miguel turned off your phone. He cleared his throat as your noisy coworker entered and simply dropped off more paperwork. Once he left, Miguel leaned back and groaned towards the sight of you.

"Maybe we should get back to work?" You said with a soft chuckle. Miguel glanced at his paperwork, then you,

"Hm, perhaps." With a smirk, Miguel placed the music once more, "You can still help me be my desk while we work."

"Desk?" You questioned. Miguel grabbed your hand and placed you on his lap, "Ohhhhhhhhh,"

"Let's see how long we can last staying in tune, hm?" Miguel hummed as he brought you in for a kiss while rubbing your clit once more. You pressed yourself against his chest,

"Not long."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

I hope you enjoyed this! I had to rewatch the scene from that movie a few times to try and understand the movements, haha.

@tojishugetiddies

[makeyoumine69]

Hey sweetheart I hope you're getting there! I just wanna say that you're appreciated and loved❤️Patrick is just..🥵Could I possibly have a fanfic of Patrick Bateman x fem reader who has the most disgusting thoughts about him with a hint of voice kink please? Much love princess 🥰❤️

My dear, thank you so much for your amazing support and your request! I hope you like it! 😘😍✌

— [MASTERLIST]; [My imagines and short requests]

Patrick was away on a business trip, so you were left alone in his fancy apartment in New York. Almost every day he called you and you had little cute conversations, where he mostly complained about his stupid co-workers and how much he missed you. But one day, your conversation turned into something really spicy.

"What did you just say, honey?" Bateman chuckled in amusement and brought the phone closer.

"Nothing," shit, did you actually say your dirty fantasies about him out loud? "Never mind Patrick, it was just…"

"What are you wearing?"

Fuck, his low, seductive voice sent shivers down your spine, it forced your toes to curl uncontrollably, because you wanted him to be here now more than anything else in this world.

"Uh, um…well, I'm wearing a short casual dress," you replied as your finger nervously twirled a lock of your hair. "With no bra underneath."

"Oh?" you heard his slight surprise, and it brought a bright smile to your face. "If so, how about you get under the dress and play with your nipples for me?"

A muffled gasp of excitement escaped your suddenly dry lips: "Patrick, stop teasing me… you know how much I miss you and…"

"That's the point, sweetheart," Patrick purred into the phone and you noticed the slight sound of his pants unbuckling. "'C'mon, those tits deserve attention and I'm so fuckin' upset I can't touch them right now."

"And if you were here, what would you do with them?" This question came out faster than you even had time to think.

His low chuckle echoed in your ear as his voice dropped even lower, "I'd suck those delicious little tips until they swell up, honey," he murmured, his hand already wrapped around the base of his fully erected cock. "I'd bite them, arghh… I'd twist and pinch them really nice."

Moaning softly, you found yourself breathing fast and your peaks were so hard from the things Bateman was telling you. You cursed barely audibly and let the straps of your dress fall over your shoulders, exposing your well-formed breasts.

"Patty…" you mewled as you finally tugged on your hard nipple. "God, I miss you so much."

"I know, darling, I know," he mused, slowly stroking his thick dick. "I miss you even more, believe me."

"Patrick, go on…please!"

"Wow, I didn't expect you to be that horny," Patrick chortled, his voice seemed to flow right through your veins, setting your whole body on fire. "I bet you're so soaked right now. Aren't you?"

Fuck, you had to claw at your knee from how aroused you already were. Abashed, you slowly opened your legs and immediately felt the wetness between them.

Damn it!

"I'm so fucking wet, Patty," you closed your eyes and guided your hand to where you needed it most. "Oh God, I wish it was you, touching me right now…"

"Imagine it's me, honey," his guttural groan made you whimper in response, coaxing your fingers to slide over your delicate petals. "Imagine me palming your juicy pussy…mmhm…I wish I could taste it!"

"A-aww! Parick," your shameless wining was like music to his ears. "I want it so bad!"

"Baby," his jerking motions became more intense with each passing moment. "Shit, I'm gonna cum if you keep moaning like that..."

With a sly smile, you threw your head back as you couldn't hold it any longer - you shoved two fingers into your dripping cunt and your mind immediately went into a frenzy, especially when you heard his sexy muffled sighs.

I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

[teagballs]

michael bluth x reader where reader also works in business and has a bad day or something and since michael is at work (they work in diff places) he goes drinking with gob once he is done. michael taking care of a drunk reader lol. i love ur writing

take them home | michael bluth x !drunk reader

authors note: did u miss me hiiiii definitely hasn't been three months or anything. SORRY YALL im in the middle of exams rn im struggling so hard 💔 motivation to write came back when i should be studying tho ??? wtf ???? idek. anyway heres some sweet michael for the SOUL he'd be the best bf ever!!!!!

cw: drunk reader, drinking too much, vomiting. other than that just fluff!! enjoy

----------------------------♡----------------------------

You swear you could have cried when the clock finally struck six. Today was terrible, putting it simply. From an early start to annoying co-workers to an abundance of paperwork, it seemed you couldn't catch a break. To make matters worse, you knew Michael wouldn't be home till late. The responsibility he had in his position left him working after hours. You needed to release some of your built-up stress, you needed a drink. But who would you go to? Who would be without responsibilities or cares and would be willing to get wasted with you?

"Hey Gob, do you wanna get a drink?"

He was more than happy to hit the bar with you and also a terrible influence. Drinks seemed to tally up within minutes when it had actually been hours and hours. He definitely could handle his drink better than you. Because while he was still able to form a coherent message, you were a blubbering mess.

"Another!" You slur out.

Gob discourages you finally, "Don't you have work tomorrow?"

"Who cares! All- all those pieces of shit can go- can- can go fuck... themselves" you stutter.

Gob wasn't having fun anymore. Now he was just taking care of a drunk person - he didn't want that weighing him down. So he called Michael to come pick you up.

Michael was not pleased to hear that after his 12 hours in the office, he had to pick up his absolutely shit faced partner up from his brother.

"You let them get that drunk, Gob? What's wrong with you?" Michael barked as you rest against his shoulder.

You lean against his form, looking up at his tousled locks. He definitely had them in his stressed grip a couple of times today. You play with the bottom of his tie as he speaks. Gob shrugs his lecturing off and leaves the pair of you.

With some difficulty, Michael gets you into the stair car and drives you to your apartment. He guides you up to your place and gently guides you to the sofa. He makes quick work of getting you a glass of water.

"Here, drink this," he hands you a glass. It's a chipped and old looking glass, just in case. You ignore the glass and instead try to get him to sit down with you.

"Michael, you looked tired, come lay down with me," you dragged, giving him the best puppy dog eyes you could. You were spread across the sofa ungracefully, limbs anywhere they would be comfortable.

"You need to go to bed," he tells you gently. You whine out like a toddler.

"Come on! I wanna stay up with you!" you say before shifting up into a sitting position and giggling.

"You have work tomorrow," he sighs at you. He, too, has work tomorrow and would love to stay up with you, but can't.

"So? I hate that job! Who cares if I'm off cause of a-" you cut yourself off by covering your mouth and dry heaving, "a hangover-" you bolt up right and stumble to your bathroom, stabilising yourself on the walls. Michael follows closely behind.

He runs hand up and down your back and holds your hair as you throw up. The vomiting must have sobered you up a little because you suddenly feel the not so fun effects of alcohol. You rub your face, feeling hot a clammy. Michael looks at you with only concern as he hunches on the floor with you. He cups your face, and you lean your face away.

"Don't..." you grumble. "I'm gross and drunk."

Michael smiles as he smoothes over your cheek, "That may be true, but I still love you," he chuckles. You're unsure how he's even facing you with how bad your breath probably is.

"I'm tired," you sigh deeply and sniffle a little.

"I'm sure you are." Michael agrees, doing that knee slap thing as he makes his way to his feet again. "C'mon," he holds out his hand for you to take. Supporting one hand on your bath, you use the other to take his.

He guides you to your bed where you flump down. With effort, he takes your shoes off, and you turn over and wrap the duvet tight around your frame.

"Alright, sweetheart, I'm off. I'll see you tomorrow," Michael murmurs and watches your exhausted form.

"No!" you exclaim. "No, don't go!" Suddenly frantic, you unwrap yourself from your duvet cocoon.

"What do you want me to do?" He forms a lips pressed together smirk, he finds your pure distraught at the idea of him going home and getting a good night's rest awful amusing.

"Stay here! Stay in my bed!" you beg your boyfriend. In the morning, you'll remember how drunk and pathetic you were last night and grimace.

"But I have work in the morning. I'll need to go home and get ready." He toys. He already knows he'll be staying the night. He'll just have to get up early and grab his stuff for the office. Or maybe he'll take the day off, he deserves it after all.

"No, please!" You whine out again and tug on his hand. He laughs heartily and drops onto the bed, making sure to squash none of your limps.

Finally satisfied, you wrap your legs around him. You're both still in your work clothes, but who cares? You're cosy.

Tucking your head into his neck, you slur out a, "love you,"

"Love you too," he smiles, exposing his little tooth gap.

----------------------------♡----------------------------

[httpscomexe]

Muzzle

Summary: Your life couldn’t possibly become more annoying, at least that’s what you thought before a stranger comes knocking on your door at 3 in the morning.

(Find what I'm currently writing by checking my pinned post)

Parings: Winter Soldier x Reader

Warnings: There will be individual warnings per chapter. Blood, wound, stab wound, mention of rape, mention of kidnapping, murder, guns, a lot of bad language words. The Winter soldier is also a warning.

Word Count: 3777 (Find all chapters here) Chapter 2

A knock on your door was the last thing you needed to ruin your day at 3 in the morning as you were just about to finish the last paragraph of your final. Who the FUCK is knocking on my door at 3 in the fucking morning?! You groan, leaning back in your chair with your hands rubbing down your face as you wait for the shadow under your door to disappear, but whoever it is, they just fucking stand there.

Then they knock again, so you stumble. Get up from your chair and quickly hop into the jeans that were thrown off earlier, and you shove your pink toy into your drawer.

“What do you-?” You freeze. You don’t know exactly how to process the situation since it was the last thing you expected to be knocking on your door at 3 in the morning considering you live in the college dorms. They don’t even speak as they walk into your dorm, their gloved hand holding onto their shirt where they were bleeding out as they made their way into your bathroom. As if your day could get any worse. “Uh, excuse me, what the FUCK do you think you’re doing!” You shout at the man, he wore a mask, more of a muzzle as he made himself at home, going through your bathroom cabinets and taking out your first aid kit and your medical student kit, something you knew he was grateful you had as a med student. “Hey, jerk, I’m talking to-” You stop talking, he eyes looked up at you as if he was some sort of hungry beast and another word would’ve meant your end.

He grunted as if he couldn’t use words, probably from his stupid ass muzzle. Who did he think he was? Coming into YOUR dorm, uninvited you may add, then going into YOUR bathroom and going through YOUR stuff. He grunts again, but this time nodding his head towards the medical kit that was on your sink. He expected you to help him. Why the fuck should you help this asshole? “Fine. But then you leave, asshole.” You tell him, opening the kit. “How bad is it?” You ask him and he finally moves his hand. A stab wound? You have a fucking final to finish god damned it. “Take your shirt off.” You demand, not able to help with his clothes on.

You watch as he reaches behind and grabs the back collar of his shirt and some blood oozes out of his wound, then he pulls his shirt off his head, and grunts again. “Use your goddamn words.” You raise your voice at him then finally look down at his wound. Wounds more like it. “What the fuck did you do…?” You ask him, not exactly expecting an answer as you quickly get to work, first cleaning around every wound on his stomach and chest with a warm, damp rag, and gently drying it with another, eventually the bleeding slows down and you debate where to make him lie down. “Okay so…” You start, grabbing a clean and dry towel off the rack and leaving the bathroom to lie the towel down on your  bed so no blood seeps into your mattress. “Well come here, why are you just standing there?” He immediately starts moving and lies down on your bed. Everything about this was weird, but you didn’t care. You just wanted it to be over with. You were tired, exhausted, and are so close to being done with your final, then this shit happens? Not the wifi going out of the power going out, no, it had to be some random ass shit that would never happen to any other student but you.

“Stay still.” You tell him, beginning to delicately help with each of his wounds, starting with the biggest. Taking your needle and thread, you began to stitch it, and he didn't move an inch, high pain tolerance you assumed, considering he looked like he just ran away from war. “You smell like shit.” You tell him as you add another stitch. “You can shower here too if you like, I have some old hoodies that I stole from my dad and some sweatpants too. It’s late so I guess you can also stay the night.” He grunts again, but it’s in approval. “Are you not able to talk through that mask or something?” You ask him as you tie a stitch and snip it, beginning on the next as he nods. “So take it off.” You tell him, then watch as his left hand moves up to it and he tries to tug at it, but it doesn’t even shift, he was showing you it was stuck, then you noticed the key hole on the side. Who the fuck locked a muzzle on his face. “Oh I see.” You begin with a tight smile. “You’re into that kinky shit but it went a little too far huh?” You joke, nodding towards his stab wounds, but he shakes his head. “Do you want it off?” You ask him, and he answers with a nod. “Okay.” You finish his last stitch and sift through your drawer, his eyes never leaving you so you assume he has trust issues. Then you pull out a small kit, opening it to reveal a bunch of little tools for lock picking. “Another thing I stole from my dad.” You admit, groaning tiredly as you move to your knees beside him and begin to pick at the lock on his muzzle.

“What about your gloves? It’s like a thousand degrees outside dude.” You ask him, and the lock pops as it comes loose, you remove it from his face gently, being careful when taking the strap out of his long black hair since it was tangled. “Jesus dude, when was the last time you ate?” You ask, genuinely concerned. He just shrugs. “You still aren’t gonna talk to me?” You put your hand on your chest, trying to seem offended.

“M’not supposed to.” He finally says, and his voice was scruffy like he hasn’t drank anything in weeks.

“You sound thirsty too.” You tell him, reaching over and grabbing a water bottle from your bed side, which he gladly accepts, quickly drinking it down. “Look dude, I don’t know about you, but you need to find a new girlfriend.” You tell him.

“Not my girlfriend.” He says, his voice sounding more clear, but still deep.

“Yea. Sure.” You say, patting his shoulder. “I’ll get you some clothes and set up the couch for you to sleep, then I need to finish my essay.” You tell him, standing up from the bed and moving to your closet, taking out an old Hard Rock sweater and some grey jeans that were always too big on you. “Here.” You hold your hand out with the clothes. “I’ll get the shower started up for you.” You tell him, leaving him on the bed as you enter the bathroom and turn the water on, keeping your hand under the shower head until it is warm. “Okay, come shower.” You shout, walking out of the bathroom as he stands up and walks past you, closing the door behind him as he takes a shower.

When he’s finally out of your sight, that’s when you finally freak the fuck out. “What the fuck-” You mumble, quickly moving to your desk to grab your phone. Something you didn’t do before because that man could definitely rip your arm off with no effort. You scroll through your messages until you see your best friend's name and you tap it, typing rapidly to send them a text.

You: DUDE!

Peter: DUDE!

You: No seriously, DUDE WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING?

Peter: IDK UNLESS YOU TELL ME

You: Some dude with stab wounds covered in blood just popped up at my door.

Peter: You use the caps for ‘DUDE’ but not that? What happened? Are you okay?

You: Yea I’m okay, I stitched him up and he’s taking a shower, I told him he could stay the night. He seemed friendly, but boy if looks could kill.

Peter: Should I report it? Call the police?

You: No, but if I don’t show up to class in the morning you know why. Anyways, goodnight.

Peter: Okay yea, seems normal, at least for you. Goodnight. Don’t die.

You put your phone back on the desk and look at your almost finished essay, then lean over your desk and type in two lazy and sloppy sentences before turning it in. I’m not spending another minute on that damned thing. You tell yourself, then you hear the water in the bathroom stop. About two minutes later you’re sitting on your bed, some extra blankets and a pillow thrown on your couch for the man, and he walks out.

“You don’t smell like sweat and garbage anymore?”

“I smell like flowers…” He grumbles and you giggle a little.

“What’s your name?” You ask, he doesn’t answer. “Well mine is Y/N. A lot of my friends call me Bee, like the bug. Cause I’m a happy person and yellow usually indicates happiness.” He stops at the couch and gives you a look. “You can sleep there. It’s dark out.”

“Thank you…” He pauses.

“Bee.”

“Bee.” You smile a little as he sits on the couch, and uses one of the thinner blankets.

“Lights on or off?”

“On.” God damnit.

“Okay, goodnight grumpy.” You tease, and you feel him look at you after you get comfortable under your blankets, and finally get to fall asleep.

You awake to the feeling of your phone vibrating, about 5 minutes before your alarm was set to go off. Sitting up and stretching, in your vision you could see the stranger from last night. He was curled up in your pretty pink my little pony comforters, and the thinner blanket was halfway off the couch as he snored quietly. You were careful not to wake him, making sure your alarm wouldn’t go off by unplugging it before stepping out of bed and stretching, it felt like heaven as your back was stretched and you went right back into your daily routine.

First, you snatched a twinkie from its box and opened the wrapper, setting it on one of your paper plates. Feeling extra hungry from your long night, you decided to also grab a roll of cookie dough from your mini fridge which you popped into the microwave for a minute with some marshmallow set on top of each one. “Where are you?” You say to yourself, opening up a cabinet as you searched for the chocolate powder before pulling the milk out of the fridge, then you reached up, grabbed a mug and you began to mix some chocolate milk.

You hummed quietly to yourself, waiting for your coffee to finish brewing as you snacked on a cookie. Then you heard a shuffling behind you, turning around and you saw the stranger from last night. You still had yet to learn his name. “Well good morning.” You say softly. “Hope I didn’t wake you.” You apologise quietly, then take a bite from your twinkie.

“Smells good.” He says in his morning voice.

“Want one?” You ask, picking up a marshmallow cookie and handing it to him. He inspects it before taking it with his right hand, your eyes glancing at his left hand before the coffee brewer sings to you, letting you know it was done. 

“It’s good.” He says as you take the pot off the machine and pour some into your metal tumbler until it was half full, filling the rest with milk and vanilla syrup. “Smells good too.” He says, looking at the coffee pot. Without looking at him, you make him a mug as well.

“Here.” You hand it to him, then you leave to go to the bathroom to get ready.

“Okay, routine.” You remind yourself, starting with brushing your hair, and everything else before finally turning on the shower and stepping into the nice warm water.

You shower for about twenty minutes. Washing your hair, cleaning your body and just relaxing overall before your presentation. But soon, you had to get out. You figured you could stay longer and just cancel class, lose a few points for not presenting, then get it over with, but you couldn’t afford the water bill anyways.

“Shit.” You curse. Normally you’re alone in the morning so you can shower then leave the bathroom naked and get dressed by your closet, but today you’re not able to do that. “Hey.” You call for the man and he looks over at you, your head peeking through the door. “I hate to ask but can you grab me some clothes? There's an outfit on the top of my dress and my bra and panties are in the top left drawer.” You say, feeling your face heating up but you can’t let him know this is awkward for you. Once again, he just grunts in response before putting the coffee mug he was drinking from back down on the counter and going to your dresser, taking out a random pair of panties and a random bra as well. “Can you grab the black ones please? They match.” You ask, and he puts them back, shifting through your clothes awkwardly before his hand comes back out, the hip part of your black lace panties hanging from his index finger with the bra next to it hanging on his middle finger. “Those, yes. Thank you.” You blurt out as he takes all the clothes and walks to the bathroom door, you stick your hand out to take them.

As soon as you’re finished dressing and drying your hair, you decide not to style it today. You finish in the bathroom by spraying your perfume and then you get out and start to get your bag together. “How long are you staying? I’m about to leave for class.” You let him know, flipping some hair back that falls in front of your eyes before looking up at him. “I’m not actually even supposed to have you here, this building doesn’t exactly allow boys.” You tell him, then move to the counter and grab your twinkie, finishing it. “I mean you can stay, but you can’t leave once the halls are packed.” You say with a stuffed mouth. When he doesn’t answer you, you look up at him, expecting an answer. “You gonna answer me or are you gonna stare at me like you’re gonna rip my throat out?” You blurt out without thinking, then he approaches you and your posture straightens. “What?” You say quietly, then his right hand reaches up and touches the side of your lip, when he draws his hand back, you see some white on his thumb. Fucking twinkie. You curse to yourself on this inside, and you’ll admit that his gentleness did send butterflies through your stomach. “Well?”

“You smell good.” He says suddenly, interrupting you.

“Oh uh-” You shift on your feet a little. “Thanks I uh… Thanks.” You stutter, and he gently pushes a strand of your hair behind your ear as he looks into your eyes. Fuck no. You turn away, grabbing your bag and you throw it over your shoulders as you walk away from him. “I have to go. Remember, you can stay, just make sure that when you leave, the halls are empty.” You tell him, then you open your door, slamming it shut behind you after making sure your keys were still on your belt loop.

“So Peter told me what happened last night.” Was the first thing your friend said as she saw you. “Something about someone breaking into your room and-”

“What? He didn’t break in. I let him in cause he looked like he’d kill me if I didn’t.” You also fail to mention how he just kind of shoved passed you without asking.

“But it’s still weird. Like I would be freaking out if some bloody dude showed up at my door at 3 in the morning.”

“I don’t know, it bothered me at first but he’s cool. He’s really quiet.” You tell her, still walking to your class, wishing something would get in the way of your presentation.

“Only you wouldn’t be bothered or concerned about that.” She scoffs. “What if he’s part of some gang? They might find out you helped him then next thing you know your head is rolling off your neck. Haven’t you done the gauntlet challenge? Those gangs do that shit, Bee.” She tells you, then gets ahead of you, crossing her arms to stop you. “I know you think life is all sunshine and rainbows and shit, but it’s not. What if he had raped you?”

“Tiffany!” You raise your voice, calming yourself when some people's eyes land on you. “Come on, it’s not that serious. There’s no gangs here in Manhattan. Now please. Stop talking about it.” You tell her, passing her but she speeds up.

“You can’t tell me I’m wrong, you can’t let just anyone into your room. What if you were caught?”

“I’m sure the dean would understand once she saw his stab wounds?”

“Stab wounds? Are we talking about the possible gang member slash serial killer that you’re so casual about?” Peter suddenly joins the conversation, along with Ned and MJ.

“Oh my God, you’re all ridiculous.” You say back.

MJ: I mean, they aren’t wrong. Are you down to skip your first class?

Peter: She can’t skip, we have a presentation.

You: Gee Pete, thanks for answering for me. What were you thinking of doing?

“I was gonna go get some coffee then go to the arcade, wanna go with or is the presentation too risky to skip?” She asks, sarcasm laced in her words.

“Yea I’m down, it won’t hurt my grade. It gives me an excuse to skip, wanna walk or drive?” You reach towards your waist band, pulling off your keys.

“Lets walk, I don’t feel like driving and it isn’t far.” You answer with a simple okay before you both leave the group and leave campus for the coffee shop, which was about a 5 minute walk turned into a 20 minute walk with human traffic.

“Hi, yea, can I get just a vanilla frappe? Thanks.” MJ orders, then you step up and order your usual, you each pay half and half.

“So is this guy still in your room?” She wonders.

“I mean I haven’t gotten a notification that he’s left.”

“Yea but I didn’t even see him enter. I was at the front desk this morning for 7 hours and didn’t see him come in. The side exits are locked with a shit ton of boxes blocking them.”

“Well that’s weird.” You hum confusedly at first, but then hum in joy as your coffees are brought to your table.

“Maybe he’s some secret ninja?” She chuckles.

“Oh haha, what do you think he’s a gang member too?”

“I mean it’s possible. But I doubt it. Did he seem like one?”

“Nope. It was weird, he had this muzzle on and it was locked, so I picked it and he sucks at speaking, it’s like he doesn’t know how to properly form a sentence.”

“That’s weird. Sounds like some kinky ass shit though. A muzzle and stab wounds?” You both start laughing.

“That’s exactly what I thought! But believe me, he did NOT like it when I said that.” You laugh a little, and a car alarm goes off behind you, but you ignore it, it is New York after all.

“Oh yea? What'd he say?”

“He didn’t say anything, he just gave me this look…”

“Show me the look.” She demands in a playful way and you try to contort your face into his, making a total fool of yourself as you do.

“I don’t know how to make it, but I promise it was threatening.” You both break out in laughter, hers turned into a scream as you hear glass breaking behind you, making you snap your head around in time to see a man holding just about the biggest fucking gun you’ve ever seen hit the floor, followed by the man who was in your room last night jumping through the window. “What the fuck…” You whisper, quickly getting out of your chair and backing away with MJ, keeping your body in front of hers. “That’s the guy from last-” You’re cut off by him lifting his leg and then stomping hard on the other man's skull, hard enough to hear the cracking of his skull from the other side of the coffee shop, causing more screams to erupt. “Night…” You whisper, and everyone watches as he reaches down, picking up what you presume is an M4, something you’d know from the countless movies you’ve had to watch with your guy friends.

“Don’t move.” You tell MJ. Still keeping her behind you, but your voice catches his attention, his hand immediately reaching for his waist and pulling out a solid black desert eagle, which snaps in your direction, pointing straight at your head. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He looks at you, and you can see some sort of question in his eyes, it was the look you give people when you see them for the first time in years. He looked at you as if he was about to ask if he knew you. Then he lowered his gun, but kept his eye on you for a moment, watching as you took a deep breath.

“Well you helped him so he shouldn’t shoot us right?” MJ whispered, quiet enough for only you to hear, but you kept your eyes in the man's eyes, refusing to look away. Then he turned and walked away, putting his smaller gun back at his waist and raising his bigger one as he left the coffee shop.

“What the fuck. What the actual fuck?” You spit out as soon as he’s gone.

“So is it still wrong to think he’s a gang member?”

“MJ, shut up.”

“But didn’t you see that star on his left arm? Which may I add was made of fucking metal!” She screams as you both gather your belongings as a fight happens with bullets outside, causing you both to duck under the table.

“So what?”

“Its the fucking soviet symbol.”

“And…” You feel your heart skip.

“Do you even look at the fucking news? He's the winter soldier. Hydras fucking escaped project.”

Oh yea. You fucked up.

[shrimplymoray]

This is... Very much self-indulgent and for my own comfort right now. So, excuse anything that may be off, or a bit OOC. TW: Apathy crisis, existential crisis.

Cronus Ampora x Reader - Apathy

Cronus was never the smartest fish in the sea when dealing with people, especially when it is other's feelings. He may seem like the emotional type of guy (he has cried multiple times for human love songs), but dealing with others is way out of his league. He - and the rest of the Beforus trolls for that matter - keep wondering how he managed to actually score one. He was used to shooting his shot at others and missing by well over a mile, so his oh-so-not-smooth flirts actually hitting a soft spot for you made him lose his composure, and get fidgety. An adorable view, truly. Though in past times his bluntness and lack of emotional knowledge never affected you, it seemed as though fate had other plans. Apathy. Something all 13 of you have become used, almost acquaintances to. Sadly, being used does not mean it is easy to deal with. Some of you, like Meulin and Rufioh, have mastered the art of surrounding yourself with others to get better. Latula and Porrim tend to dive into hobbies to lessen the effects. You? Oh... Even after what seemed like thousands of years, it is a mystery what actually helps you. That is why, this time, Cronus went too far for you. It was simple, you were faking till you got better, but he ran his mouth too much. "Heyy~ hot stuff, are ya mad at somefin? Did'ya stub yer toes? Ya so dry it shorelly must'vwe been somefin goin' on." A pause, and an answer "I don't know what you're talking about Cro." "Huh? C'mon, bae~ Lemme guess... Meenah talked shit 'bout yer hair?" "Is... there something with my hair?" "wvah- NONONO! No it, uh, it looks as great as ya! Like alwvays, I just, uh, y'knowv howv she can get, haha!" You knew he was not trying to make you mad, yet... He didn't seem charming when being a dork, this time. Your pause, the look in your void white eyes that stared at his, and your look at the distance. That showed him something really was up. And also that he fucked up big time by running his mouth today. "Hey... Hey, look at me." "What?" "Y'knowv ya can trust me, right? Ya been here for me, wvhat good of a matesprit wvould I be if I didn't do the same?" ... "It's the... the thing, again. This stupid thinkpan of mine can't seem to co-work with my bloodpumper. It's like... Y'know how, like, sometimes the reality hits us? that... that we are gonna be here, forever. We will never grow old, travel the world, or... or have a life, again. We are stuck in the bubbles, and we don't have a future ahead of us anymore. Any... certainty we had once, from the moment our session ended, it will never occur, like, ever again." "Wvoah..." It took a while, the two of you staring at the abyss, on the edge of the dreambubble you two have been sitting on, a special place for you, as this is one of your bubbles. No one said anything. You couldn't feel uncomfortable, at that moment. The lack of emotions took a deep toll on you, but you instinctively looked at Cronus. When he looked at you, however, he didn't seem worried. Or afraid. He took his goofy fake 'human' cigarette put it on the corner of his mouth, and gave you his side grin. Not the smug one, the one he puts whenever he is really confident about what he is going to say. "I mean, ya not wvrong, by any means but... heh... Do ya think it is bad? I mean, hey! Wve are gonna be all here forevwer, so that means wve can at least, like, be together for eternity or wvathevwer. I used to be pretty damn bad wvith these apathy shellnanigans but... I'm not really that afraid anemonemore. I havwe the best fuckin' matesprit in the wvhole 'bubbles and, like, I'm pretty damn shore I can live the rest of a boring eternity if I havwe ya to make it interestin'!" As you two stared to the far, far void of nothing, outside the bubble, you instinctively reached a hand on top of his, which, as always, sent his face into a violet blush mess, and managed to drag a smile and chuckle out of you. "Can't complain with that, really."

[avastrasposts]

The Pilot and his Girl - ch. 18

Finally some good news for our sweet Frankie and his girl, stuck in this nightmare The Last of Us universe that I so cruelly created for them!

Happy Frankie Friday!

Chapter 19

Series Master List

Word count: 6.7k

Warnings have their own post.

Life in the QZ is strange. It’s like living in limbo, it feels like you’re waiting for something but you don’t know what. A return to normal life? Or for this to feel normal? But at the same time there’s an ever present knot of fear in the pit of your belly, that the infection will spread inside the walls, or that the infected will get inside. Sometimes you forget about the knot but then something happens, a loud noise, someone shouting, a gun firing in the distance, and the fear returns. Having Frankie close helps, you always feel safe with him next to you. But you both work, mandatory for all inhabitants in the QZ if you want to eat. So most of the time he’s not by your side and you bite back the fear and try to get on it with. 

The first week you try to figure out your role in this new setting, how to talk to people about everyday things while you, and everyone around you, has gone through a type of trauma you couldn’t have even imagined only a few months ago. Your new co-workers all seem to handle the situation differently, some say nothing unless they have to, others never stop talking about what life was like before the outbreak. The worst ones complain about everything, the food, the work, the accommodation, until your supervisor tells them to shut the fuck up and docks their rations cards for the day. You didn’t even know that was a thing so you keep your head down and do your job. You’ve thankfully been put on kitchen duty, your skill as a cook the one thing that was deemed useful in the QZ. You spend your days inventing new ways of combining beans and rice, the two dry goods staples that there seems to be no shortage of, into new dishes for the FEDRA soldiers, including Frankie. 

Frankie has patrols and guard duty most days. He doesn’t tell you much about what he does, saying it’s all routine. Until one evening when he comes back late and there’s blood on his uniform and a bright cut on his cheek, his hands shaking as he unbuttons the shirt. You’re standing in the doorway of the bathroom, watching him struggle with it, so you gently push his hands away and slip the buttons from their holes, your fingers staining red with blood. 

“Talk to me, Frankie,” you say in a low voice, looking up at him as he looks down at your hands. 

He shakes his head, “You don’t need to hear it, cariño,” he says but you know that’s not how it works anymore. 

“You need to talk to me, Frankie, you can’t keep all the bad stuff inside just to protect me.” You push the shirt off his shoulders and drop it in the sink, filling it up with cold water, letting the t-shirt go the same way as he pulls it over his head. 

“I see some pretty grim stuff out there, I don’t want you to know how bad it gets,” he sighs as you gently push him down on the toilet seat, taking out the first aid kit. 

“You may want to protect me, but the people in the kitchen don’t care, they talk about all the stuff they’ve seen or what they’ve heard about from other soldiers,” you say, “I hear about the grim stuff every day.” 

Frankie seems to scan your face for a minute while you clean out the cut on his cheek, when you’re done he gently takes your hand and presses his lips to your palm. 

“I had to learn how to push the grim shit to the back of my mind when I was in the military,” he says, still holding on to your hand. “I made myself indifferent to the pain and suffering I saw others go through, just so that I could get on with the mission. Indifferent to the pain and suffering I inflicted. I don’t want you to have to do the same, cariño.” 

“If I ask you to tell me about the stuff you go through, I’m doing it to help you, I’m not going to be indifferent to that, Frankie,” You slip your fingers between his and make him stand up, unbuttoning his cargo pants and pushing them down. They’ve got dark mud stains along one side and you pick them up and dump them in the laundry basket. “I want to know what you go through, because I love you and I want to help you, so you don’t have to carry it all on your own. That’s kinda part of the whole ‘wife’ thing you asked me to be.” 

You see his mouth quirk up in a small smile as you poke his chest, “Get in the shower, Morales, and tell me about your day.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“Atta boy.” 

The second week of your time in the QZ sees your routine start to crystalize; get up, quick shower, breakfast with Frankie if your schedules match up, otherwise you head over to the big kitchen you work in and have breakfast there. You always stop by the service center first and scan the notice board that contains lists of people in this QZ and any updated lists of inhabitants of other QZ’s. So far none of your friend’s names have appeared on any lists. Only Benny and Hannah so far and Frankie hasn’t been able to get through to him yet, he only had a short message from Ben saying Hannaha and him were ok.

Once you’re done with breakfast you spend the rest of the day preparing and planning meals for the soldiers. The kitchen is in an old high school building, the large school kitchen ideal for preparing meals for big groups. The cafeteria now serves as a mess hall for soldiers rather than high schoolers and it’s bizarre seeing the high school banners and colors hanging on the walls over rows of men and women in army fatigues. You usually have the early shift and then you’re done by mid-afternoon, free to do what you want within the confines of the QZ. When Frankie’s shift ends around the same time he’ll meet you in the high school gym. He’s started training you, as he promised in his note for you, teaching you basic fight techniques and how to get away if someone grabs you. It’s exhausting, Frankie is not going easy on you, making you drip with sweat as he encourages you to punch his flat palms harder. Trying to break free of his grip is even harder, his weight and length makes it easy for him to just pin you down. But he makes you practice a few basic moves over and over until you are able to throw him off balance and break free most of the time. At the end of your second week in the QZ your body is aching, your knuckles are raw, but the bruise on Frankie’s jaw from is proof that you’d managed to learn something useful at least. 

On Monday afternoon of your third week you leave the kitchen and head for home. Frankie’s got a late shift and won’t be home until dinner time. You drop off an application for some clothes that you need at the donation center and take a new route home. You weren’t familiar with the city before the outbreak and Frankie had tasked you with learning your way around all the streets. He’d said it was a safety precaution in case something, anything, happened and you needed to move swiftly through the city. You hoped you’d never need the skill but you still took different routes home every day, wandering aimlessly, mapping the streets in your head. 

Today you come to a small square where some people have set up makeshift stalls, really just blankets on the ground, to sell anything they didn’t need. People would barter or trade for ration cards, the inofficial currency of the QZ. After a few miserable rainy days, the weather was nice again and it seemed to have brought out more people than usual, making you have to weave and dodge around the crowd as you make your way across the marketplace. You don’t notice the dark haired man crouching down by one of the blankets, talking to the owner selling an assortment of shoes. But he seems to sense you, maybe he catches a glimpse of your hair from the corner of his eyes, and he stands up, staring at your back as you weave past the last of the people. 

You hear your name called, a tentative tone to it, questioning if it’s really you and you turn, looking back at the crowd of people. At first you don’t see him, but then he steps forward, looking like he doesn’t trust his eyes. 

“Pope!” you gasp, your voice barely a whisper as you take a step towards him and it makes him spring into action. In a few quick steps he’s on you, his arms thrown around you, hugging you tight as you wind your arms around his neck, holding onto him as you feel tears start to well up in your eyes. 

“Pope, you’re alive!” you sob, your heart feels like it’s about to explode with relief and happiness, “You’re actually alive!”

“I am, and so are you, hermana, I can’t believe it,” Pope’s laughing into your ear as he hugs you tighter, “I can’t fucking believe it!” 

He pulls back, his arms still tight around your waist and looks down at your tear stained face. “Frankie?” he asks, his smile giving way to a pensive look and you beam at him through your tears, nodding. 

“He’s alive, he’s here too!” 

Pope blows out a loud sigh of relief and hugs you tight again, “Thank fucking god, I would’ve killed him otherwise.” 

“I’ve got so many questions,” you say, still buried against his shoulder, and he pulls back again, “what happened after you left the cabin?” 

Pope sighs, loosening his grip on you but his hands still holding on to your shoulders, shaking his head. “It’s a long story, so much shit went wrong.” He suddenly grips you harder, his eyes wide with fear, “Lucía? Is she with you, please, fuck, please tell me she’s with you!”

You open your mouth but nothing comes out, you don’t know how to get the words past your lips, but he sees your face and understands, without words he understands exactly. He drops his hands and steps past you, walking away from the market, and from behind you see him raise a fist to his mouth. You follow him, further away from the crowd, and when he stops you stand in front of him. He drops his fist, his eyes wide, staring towards the sky and you can see  tears collecting in his thick lashes. When he drops his gaze down to his boots tears drip down and you reach out and hug him, folding your arms around his neck, one hand on the back of his head. He doesn’t sob the way Frankie does, he trembles under you, shaking, but no sounds come from him, just his ragged breath. 

“How?” he asks eventually, lifting his head from where he’d dropped it on your shoulder. 

“We got to her house Monday afternoon, they’d been evacuated by soldiers, taken to Franklin. So we followed but…” you hesitate, the memory of the pile of dead bodies on the side of the road floats up to the forefront of your mind. Lucía’s mom with bullet holes, Lucía’s dress, Frankie’s voice when he thought she was alive, and the inhuman scream from her as she tried to attack him. The gunshot. 

“It was a nightmare, Santi,” you whisper. “They’d killed all the evacuees, they were all on the side of the road, shot.”

“I heard rumors about them executing people who weren’t infected, but even children…” 

“They were infected, or at least some of them were,” you interrupt him. “Lucía was infected, she…” you draw a shuddering breath, squeezing your eyes shut at the memory. “She was infected when we got there, we thought she was alive but then…Santi…” you look at him, dreading telling him the worst part of Frankie’s trauma. “She…Frankie had to…” you can’t bring yourself to say it, but he understands, his dark eyes reflecting your pain. 

He wraps his arms around you again and together you stand still, holding each other up as the images from that day swirl in your head again, and Pope begins to understand what kind of state Frankie will be in when he finally sees  his best friend again. 

Pope puts his arm around your shoulders as the two of you walk to your apartment, not talking much, he tells you where he’s living and skirts your question about what he’s working with. It raises a twinge of suspicion in you but you drop it. A lot of stories will need to be told to cover all the time that’s passed since you last saw Pope in your old apartment back home, and you’d rather have Frankie with you for that. He’s not home yet when you unlock the apartment door, he’s not due for another half an hour, so you point Pope to the couch and start dinner. 

“I have news about Benny and Hannah,” you say as you pull out a pot to boil rice. “They’re in the Arlington QZ, Frankie had a message from him a couple of days ago.” 

“Oh shit, really?” Pope says, sitting up straight on the couch, “are they ok?” 

“We don’t know anything except that they’re there and the soldier who told me hadn’t heard anything about Benny having a brother so we think Will isn’t with him.” 

“A soldier from the New York QZ told me recently about a guy who sounded very much like Will, but I haven’t been able to verify it. I’ve been asking around every chance I get.” 

“How would Will end up in New York though? That’s hours away even if you could drive the whole way.” You look over at Pope who just shakes his head, and shrugs. 

“I have no idea why he would be there, but that’s the only lead I have.”

A key in the front door draws your attention and Pope stands up, he’s directly in line of sight of the door and he’s grinning when the door swings open. Frankie’s got his eyes on a note in his hand as he walks through the door. 

“Cariño, they’re turning off the water tomor-” He stops dead in his tracks as he spots Pope. 

“Cada día eres más feo,”  Pope grins at Frankie’s stunned face before taking two steps and grabbing hold of his jacket, pulling him in for a bear hug. Frankie stumbles into him, hugging him back, still dazed. 

“Pope..how?” He pulls back from the hug staring at his friend, his face splitting into a grin as he claps Pope’s shoulders, “Where the fuck did you come from, pendejo?!”

“I ran into your girl on the street, she told me you guys just got here and invited me over.” Pope’s grin is as wide as Frankie’s and he’s grabbed hold of the other man’s face, looking at him like he can’t believe he’s real. 

“Fuck, you make it sound like you just dropped by for a fucking house warming,” Frankie says, pulling him in for another hug, “It’s fucking good to see you, hermano.” He lets go of Pope and, still grinning, kicks off his boots as Pope walks back to the living room. You’re leaning on the kitchen counter with a smile, looking at the two men reunite. Frankie comes over to you for a kiss before turning back to Pope. 

“Where have you been, how did you end up here?” he asks, sinking down on the couch and Pope joins him, grabbing hold of Frankie’s shoulder. You grab three glasses and a bottle of whiskey Frankie had found while on patrol, you’d been meaning to use it to trade with but this was better use. 

“Frankie,” Pope says, his voice suddenly serious as he looks at the other man, “I heard…about Lucía.” 

Frankie gives a short nod and drops his eyes, looking at his hands for a second before he grabs one of the glasses, you can see his hands start to tremble. 

“I can’t talk about it,” he says, before downing the whiskey, grasping hard at the empty glass as he looks up at you, seeking your support. 

“I get it, man, I’m…” Pope drifts off, tilting his head back and looking at the ceiling. “Fuck.” He draws a deep breath and accepts the glass of whiskey from you, you refill Frankie’s and then your own. 

“So you guys go to the cabin?” Pope asks, looking over at you. 

“Yeah, we got there early Sunday evening, we saw your note and left for Lucía’s place early Monday morning.” you say, sitting down next to Frankie on the couch. “After…” you glance over at Frankie who’s dropped his gaze back to his hands, “after we went back to the cabin. And we stayed there until a few weeks ago, hoping any of you guys would turn up but no one did. We survived on Denny’s supplies but when they ran out we had to head out and find more. Things went bad and we got attacked by looters, they took the supplies we had left and held us prisoner at their farm.” You shudder at the memory, still too fresh in your mind. “Frankie got us out, killed them, but our supplies were lost so we had no choice but to come here.” 

“I tried getting back to the cabin but I was injured,” Pope says, pulling up his shirt and showing a fresh scar on his right side. “I was on the bike, just as I was getting into Lucía’s town some fucking hillbilly took a shot at me. I crashed the bike, managed to kill the guy when he came after me, but then I lost consciousness. Next thing I know I woke up with a rifle against my chest, nearly got shot again.” Pope takes a sip of his whiskey, shaking his head at the memory. “It was a military convoy going through town collecting evacuees, probably the same one that picked up Lucía. They were killing anyone infected or injured but I told them I was Special Ops and they patched me up.” He looks over at Frankie’s who’s lifted his eyes and is looking at Pope as he tells his story. 

“Frankie, if I’d known…they told me they were taking the whole town to the QZ, so I went with them…I…” 

“It would’ve been too late,” Frankie shakes his head, “It wouldn’t have made any difference. I know how she got infected and it would’ve been too late even if you’d gotten there before the soldiers.” 

You look over at Frankie, he’d never said anything about how she got infected before and as he sees your questioning look he takes your hand. 

“It was the fucking pancakes, the box mix. FEDRA has information about the infection starting in the food supply, in cereal products like pancake mix. Her mom always used the fucking box mix even though I told her it was shit.” His shoulders sag and he takes another long sip of the whiskey. 

“Fuck…” you breath, trying to process the information. 

“I’d heard rumors about that too,” Pope says, “that’s what people are saying but FEDRA has never confirmed it.” 

“Why do you think they serve only beans and rice to the soldiers?” Frankie says, looking over at Pope, “I’ve got fucking beans and rice coming out of my ears.” 

“What happened after you got to the QZ, Pope?” you ask. 

“It wasn’t set up like it is now, they had a temporary set up, blocked off streets with barricades while they set up a fence.” Pope shoves his hand through his thick hair, his eyes suddenly very tired, “I don’t remember much, I got septicemia, I was out of it for the better part of a month, they didn't have enough antibiotics, most of the supplies got destroyed in the outbreak. The major hospital here caught fire and burnt almost clean to the ground.” He leans back against the couch and sighs, “It’s not been good in here, by the time I was back on my feet the wall had gone up, FEDRA had taken control and they control who leaves the QZ, and who comes in. You’re not allowed to leave unless you’re being transferred to another QZ.” He looks over at Frankie, still in his uniform, “And you’re working for them, Fish?” 

“Yeah, it was the only way we could get in,” Frankie says, “And it comes with benefits, but I’m starting to see some sides of FEDRA I don’t like.” 

You nod next to Frankie, you’d heard the stories too by now. The staff in the kitchen would complain loudly about the food, the work they had to do, the accommodation, but never about FEDRA so that the supervisors could hear. But at breaks, and in whispered conversations in the dry good storage, you were told about the injustices in the system FEDRA had put in place. From small things like docking rations when you turned up late to work, to things that made your skin crawl, FEDRA soldiers abusing their power by demanding services from women in the QZ, especially those who didn’t have family to protect them. One of the women in the kitchen had looked at you with envy, “You'll be protected, your guy´s one of the officers, just make sure you know where he gets any extras he comes home with.” You’d told Frankie about the conversation and his eyebrows had furrowed, a dark look in his eyes. 

“Yeah, I’ve stayed away from them,” Pope says, “I gave them a fake name when they put me in the hospital.” You raise your eyebrows in a questioning look and he chuckles, “Some habits die hard, I try to stay under cover when I can.” 

“So that’s why I haven’t seen your name on any of the lists of residents!” you exclaim, reaching over and slapping his arm, “We’ve been looking every day for you, pendejo!” 

“You teaching her the bad words now, hermano?” Pope smiles and bats your hand away. “She definitely picked that one up from you, I’m sure,” Frankie retorts with a grin and you can’t help but feel happiness bubble up inside you as you see his smile, having Pope back was a god send, especially for Frankie.

“I’m gonna plate dinner, you guys wanna keep up with the whiskey or switch to water?” 

“Water,” Frankie immediately says, “I have an early shift tomorrow.”  

Dinner stretches on late into the night, despite Frankie needing to get up early the next day. You talk about your friends, about memories from before the outbreak, all three feeling the need for a break from the grim reality you now live in. Halfway through dinner Pope notices the ring on your left hand ring finger and grins big.  “Congratulations,” he smiles and points to your hand and you grin as you look down at it. 

“Thanks, Frankie decided to be a romantic despite the world ending.” 

“Good job, Fish, told you she’d say ‘yes’.” 

“You knew?” you ask with a surprised look on your face. 

“Of course! I helped him pick the ring. Although, the one I suggested had much bigger diamonds, just so you know.” 

Frankie gives him a friendly slap on the arm, “Shut up, you know why I picked this one and not your fake looking iceberg.” 

“Why did you pick this one? I meant to ask you but I forgot with everything that happened.” You hold up your hand so that you can look at the thin gold band, three small diamonds in a row.

“Three diamonds, one for you, one for me, one for Lucía,” Frankie says, his voice low. “And room for more diamonds if we have kids together.” 

“Frankie…” you whisper, taking his hand and pulling it to your heart. He gives you a small smile and Pope slaps his back. 

“Go on, Fish, kiss her, I won’t look.” 

That makes Frankie chuckle and he pulls you onto this lap, making the old chair creak under your combined weight as he holds you close for a long kiss, tangling his fingers in your hair until Pope clears his throat and pours more whiskey, calling for a toast. 

In the end Frankie tells Pope to crash on the couch rather than walk home, the curfew is about to go into effect anyway. Frankie gives him the spare blanket as he pulls his sweater off, you disappear into the bathroom for a quick shower. 

“I’m really happy she found you, man,” Frankie says, putting his hand on Pope’s shoulder, “It’s a fucking weight off my chest seeing you in one piece.” 

Pope grabs Frankie and pulls him in for a hug, grabbing hold of the back of his neck to hold him tight. “Same, man, it’s good to see you. And I went through fucking hell leaving her at your apartment, Fish, but she wouldn’t leave you behind. And the relief when I saw her today, you have no idea. And then you too.” 

“Yeah,” Frankie mumbles, his arms tight around Pope, “she’s been my rock, she never gives up on me. Even when I’m about to give up on myself.” 

Pope pulls back, looking at his friend’s dark eyes, “Shit got dark, I almost walked away, after Lucía…” Frankie shakes his head, dropping his eyes from Pope’s steady gaze. “I knew I had to keep her safe, but then, when I got her somewhere safe, I was gonna leave, let her get on with her life without my broken ass. But she never gave up on me.” 

“If you’d walked out on her, I would’ve tracked you down and slapped your sorry ass,” Pope’s voice is gentle despite his words as he pulls Frankie’s head against his so that their foreheads are touching. “I know the shit you’ve already gone through, Frankie, before all this, and I can see the shit you’re dealing with now. But you’ve got her, and you’ve got me, and I’m not fucking giving up on you this time either.” 

Frankie gives a small nod, and Pope lets go of his neck.

“Better get some sleep, hermano, early start,” he says, picking up the blanket and shaking it out over the couch. 

“Yeah, I’ll see you in the morning, Pope,” Frankie says, giving the man’s shoulder a final squeeze before he heads into the bedroom. You join him a few minutes later after saying good night to Pope too. Curling up next to Frankie, his arms wrapping around you, you grab his cheeks between your palms, pressing a kiss to his soft lips. 

“I’m never giving up on you either, Frankie.” 

Early next morning Frankie drags himself out of bed and you follow him, getting breakfast ready for the three of you as he’s in the shower. Santi is sitting bleary eyed on the couch, rubbing the crust out of his eyes. 

“How’d you sleep? Not sure how comfortable that couch is,” you say to him as you get the coffee going. Thank god for endless coffee shops, at least there’s plenty of coffee to go around for now. 

“Between the whiskey, good food and finally knowing you guys are safe, I slept like a baby,” he yawns. “I was thinking though, we should try to get a message to Benny, see how things are in Arlington. Maybe it’s worth transferring there, team up with Benny and we could all go back to our old apartments, if they’re inside the QZ.” 

“From what I hear, it’s not too hard to get a transfer, the difficult part is actually getting to the QZ,” you say, pouring milk into Santi’s coffee and handing it to him as he comes into the kitchen. 

“You shouldn’t be using your rations on me, hermana, I’ll pay you back,” he says but accepts the coffee gratefully. You pour another mug for yourself and Frankie before you pull out the powdered eggs and tinned ham .

“Don’t be silly, Pope, you know it doesn’t work like that, we’re family, now more than ever.” 

“I’m grateful anyway, you know that.” He hooks an arm around your shoulder, giving you a squeeze, before he sits down at the small table. Frankie ambles into the kitchen, pushing his fingers through his damp hair and grabs his coffee too before pulling out a frying pan to cook the ham while you deal with the “eggs”. Before long you’re all sitting down for breakfast. 

“Pope thinks we should try to talk to Benny and see how things are in Arlington and maybe get a transfer.” You say to Frankie and he nods. 

“I was thinking the same thing, we have a good chance of getting a transfer there as it’s our hometown. The trick is actually getting there in one piece, I’m not risking your life again, cariño,” Frankie puts his hand on your leg, but Pope shakes his head. 

“I heard FEDRA does convoys with supplies between cities, you’re military, you’d get a lift with that, both you and her, no problem.”

“And you? How’d you get transport?” You ask, giving Pope a worried look, “you’re not even here under your real name.” 

“I’ve made a few connections, a couple of people owe me big favors,” he grins, “I’m sure I can get a seat on a convoy.” 

“Always making deals, always have a way, you don’t change, Pope,” Frankie says, looking at his friend who raises his coffee mug in mock salute. 

“You know it, Frankie!”

“When do you think you can arrange for a radio call with Benny?” you ask Frankie. He’s the one who has the best chance at getting a radio call approved, with his rank in FEDRA. 

“In a couple of days probably, I’ll put in the request today. I’ll try to schedule it for an afternoon that you’re not working, all three of us should be there.” Frankie looks over at Pope, “What are you doing for work? You’re not in FEDRA, but you’ve got to eat, right?” 

Pope waves his hand in a vague gesture, “A bit of this and that, I do those daily jobs they’re always looking for people to do.” 

“The stuff no one else wants to do?” you ask, raising your eyebrows, “I hear they’re really nasty jobs, burning bodies, sewage details, that kinda stuff.” 

“Better me than some poor civvie,” Pope says with a shrug, “I’ve seen much worse, I can handle it.” 

“Santi…” you say, shaking your head, “you could do a lot better than that, FEDRA will take you any day, you could patrol with Frankie.” 

“And have Fish give me orders?” Pope chuckles, giving a mock salute at Frankie, who grins. “No, no offense, Fish, but I don’t think FEDRA is the way to go for me. There's a bit more to be done on the private side.” He drains his mug and pushes back from the table, getting to his feet, “Besides, I’m staying with a woman who’s good enough to share her rations when I bring home useful stuff.” 

“What do you mean ‘bring home useful stuff’?” Frankie asks, looking up at Pope who’s got a sly grin. 

“You know, stuff ration cards don’t cover, or stuff that’s hard to find. You know me, I always had a nose for finding useful things.” 

“Pope, man, are you going outside the wall?” Frankie says, standing up and looking at his friend with knotted eyebrows. 

“Never, too risky,” Pope says immediately and you both know he’s lying through his teeth with how fast his reply is. “Anyway, I’ve got to go, gonna go see if I can pick up a job today. Let me know when the radio call with Benny comes through, ok?” 

“Yeah, sure, I’ll come find you as soon as I know,” Frankie says and Pope pulls him in for a hug.  “Mantente a salvo, hermano.” 

“Tú también.” Frankie claps Pope’s back before the younger man heads out the door. 

“He’s definitely lying about not going outside of the wall,” you say to Frankie after Pope has left. 

“Yeah, he’s a world class liar but not good enough for his friends,” Frankie shakes his head. “FEDRA puts people who got outside the wall in lock up, repeat offenders are locked up for good, transferred to a prison near San Antonio. I hope he’s fucking careful, both for his sake and for ours.” 

“I just hope he doesn’t get himself infected,” you say, “I hate that I have to worry about him too now, not just you.” 

Frankie takes your hand, taking the dirty dishes from you and putting them on the counter before pulling you into his arms. “Pope’s a big boy, he can handle himself, and he doesn’t need you worrying about him.” He leans down and puts his forehead against yours, looking at you so that all you can see are his warm, brown eyes. “Don’t worry, cariño lindo.” 

“I can’t help it, I know what you face some days, and it scares me.” 

“I’m better trained than almost everyone in FEDRA, and I’m extra careful, and do you know why?” 

You shake your head gently, Frankie’s hands coming up to cup your cheeks, running his thumbs over the soft skin. 

“Because I have you to come home too. Every decision I make when I’m out on patrol is based on you, coming home to you, that’s my priority, everything else comes second.” Frankie brushes his lips over yours, “Hermosa….” his warm breath ghosting over your skin, “Every morning I leave your warm body in our bed, and every second of every day it’s the one thing that keeps me going, knowing that I get to come home and crawl into bed next to you.” He presses his plush lips against yours and you feel yourself melt into him as you wrap your arms around his waist. 

“You’re gonna be late,” you mumble into his mouth and he tilts his head, slipping his tongue in between your lips. 

He is late that morning but only five minutes and when his C.O. asks why he says he was stopped by civilians asking for directions. And it turns out it’s lucky he’s late because everyone else has already gone down to check out their guns from weapons storage when the radio call comes in from Arlington QZ and he gets sent up to answer it. 

“Franklin QZ, Captain Morales here. Go ahead Arlington, over.” 

“Fuck me! Catfish! Is that you?!” Benny’s shocked voice comes over the radio, forgetting all radio commands. 

“Benny!” Frankie yells down the microphone. “Yeah, it’s me! So good to hear your voice, man! How are you?!” 

“I’m good, Fish! I couldn’t believe it when I heard you both made it to Franklin! I’ve been worried fucking sick about you and the rest of the guys!”

“I’ve got even better news, pal,” Frankie laughs, “Pope’s here too! Ran into him out of the blue and he’s been here the whole time, got here a few days after the outbreak.” 

“No fucking way! That’s awesome” Benny laughs down the radio channel but Frankie swallows, he knows he needs to ask about Will and he braces himself for bad news. 

“Benny, I’ve got to ask, is Will with you?” The silence that follows is telling and Frankie squeezes his eyes shut, pressing his knuckles into the eyelids. 

“No,” Benny’s voice comes back after a long pause, “I haven’t heard from him since the outbreak. I was meant to have dinner with him and Hannah that night, but then shit started popping off and when he didn’t come home Hannah and I got really worried. She stayed behind at their house, and I took the car to go look for him at the office. I tried getting to it but there were infected everywhere, and…” The line goes quiet for so long Frankie starts to think the connection’s been lost before Benny’s voice finally comes through the static. “The building was on fire, that restaurant by the entrance, something must’ve made it catch, because it was blazing. If he was still in the building…or in the street…” 

“Pope said he’d spoken to a soldier from the New York QZ who mentioned a guy who sounded like Will,” Frankie says, just to give Ben some semblance of hope. 

“I’ve asked everyone, Fish, every QZ we’re in touch with, no one has heard of William Miller.” Even through the crackling line Frankie can hear Benny’s deep sigh, “I’m not giving up but…Hannah’s grieving him, she doesn’t think he made it, and the more time that passes…” Benny’s voice drops off. 

“I’m really sorry, Ben, I really am, man, but I’ll keep asking here too, ok?” 

“Frankie, when Ingrid told me about you guys being in quarantine she said it was only you and your girl…?” 

Frankie was expecting Benny to ask but he still feels his throat close up as the memory of his daughter surges to the surface and he clenches his fists, nails digging into his palms. He shakes his head, his eyes on his hands, before he remembers the other man can’t see him. 

“She didn’t make it,” he presses out between his teeth and the tension in his voice lets Benny know, through the patchy radio line and miles that separate them, how fragile Frankie is. He’s quiet on the other end when Frankie lets go of the button, pressing it down on his end to speak but he can’t find the words, opening his mouth to say something but closing it again. Finally, after what feels like minutes he just breathes out a low Fuck over the airwaves. 

“Yeah,” Frankie’s voice comes through, low and tight, and the silence stretches between them again untill Frankie shakes his head to clear it, “Listen, Benny, I’ve got to go, what’s the message for HQ?” 

“Sorry, man, didn’t mean to keep you,” Benny says, picking up a folder at his end. “There’s a convoy coming through, ETA Monday next week. Three transfers, agreed upon supplies and ammo, all accounted for.” 

“Ok, got it, I’ll pass it on.” Frankie responds, jotting down the information on the pad next to the microphone. “Listen, we were talking about applying for a transfer over to Arlington, all three of us, what do you think?” 

“Yeah, absolutely man, put me down as a reference on the application, I’ll get it through. I don’t think Arlington is in any better state than Franklin but at least we’ll be in the same QZ.” 

“Ok, good, we’ll get that done. I’ve gotta sign off now, Benny. Fucking great hearing your voice though, man.”

“Same, Fish, really fucking same, stay safe, all of you.” 

Benny hesitates, Frankie can hear it in his voice, years of knowing Benny and he can all but see the look on the younger man’s face. “I’m really sorry about Lucía, I loved- love her.” 

“Thanks, Benny,” Frankie pushes his nails into his palms again. “I’ll talk to you soon, man, ok?” 

“Yeah, talk to you soon and see you soon, gonna be good, man.” 

Frankie signs off and leans back in his chair, taking a moment to shove the memories of Lucía into the back of his mind before he goes on duty. He hears steps in the corridor and looks up, his C.O. looking in through the door. 

“Everything ok, Morales?”

“Yes, sir, just gonna pass this message from Arlington to HQ.” 

“Good, sign out your gun when you’re done and join Johnsson in the training yard.” 

“Yes, sir”. 

He pushes up out of the chair and gets to work, forcing his mind into soldier mode for the rest of the day.

Chapter 19

A note on how Pope greets Frankie: "Cada día eres más feo" (Every day you're uglier). It's what Frankie says to Pope when they greet each other in Triple Frontier (so it felt fitting to use here), except Pedro says something along the lines of "Ca´día más feo"if I'm hearing it correctly. I had to ask the latino husband and he says it's basically just sloppy Spanish, dropping half the words and mashing the rest together. So I went with the grammatically correct version, husband approved. 😅

Taglist: @pimosworld @i-own-loki @casa-boiardi @littlenosoul @stormseyer @mxtokko  @javicstories @nunya7394 @welcometothepedroverse

[fandomnsfw]

Doll House - Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Pairing: Stiles x Reader

Prompt: Doll House by Melanie Martinez

Warning: None really...a little blood I guess? Mainly Fluff

Thank you to my Beta @lets-imagine-fanfics once again for fixing my screw ups! XD

ENJOY!!

******

You walked into the school, a smile firmly placed on your face as the girls spoke about their weekend. Jenny was talking about her date with Mark while Anna was laughing about something Hayley had said. You spotted your brother across the hall and waved as the girls started swooning over him.  

“Hey, big bro. How was practice?” You asked with a sweet smile.  

“It was good. Hey, what time is mom co-”  

“Yo, Xavier, you forgot your phone!” You heard a voice exclaim as he spluttered out the changing room.  

“Thanks, Stilinski.” Your brother laughed before pocketing his phone.  

“Hi Y/N.” Stiles muttered with a grin.  

“Hi, Stiles.” You giggled as he ran his hands through his hair which was still wet, from what you guessed was the showers. You walked off with the other girls who instantly started gossiping about your brother.  

“I dunno about Xavier but Stiles got hot recently.” Anna sighed, fanning herself before bursting into a fit of laughter along with the other girls.  

“Anna’s right, Stilinski buffed up and grew his hair out. He looked like the perfect guy, I mean if you get rid of the spazziness.” Jenny snorted, as she flipped her hair over her shoulder.  

“I gotta go grab something from my car before class, I’ll see you later!” You exclaimed cheerfully before making your way to your car.  

You took out a packet of cigarettes lighting one up before taking a much-needed drag. You felt yourself instantly relax. It wasn’t like you hated your friend it’s just they were very superficial and you had enough superficial people in your life to know that you’d never have true friends as long as you kept them around. You glanced at your phone as you took another drag from the cigarette.  

Mom - ‘Going out tonight won’t be back till late. Use the credit card to eat out.’  

Dad – ‘Working late tonight.’  

You snorted as you read your parent’s texts before throwing your phone into your Prada handbag. As you took another drag you heard someone speak from behind you.  

“You know that’s bad for you right?” You’d recognise that voice anywhere. That voice was attached to the man you’d fantasised about on a regular basis. Stiles Stilinski.  

“You know it’s rude to pry right?” You snarled as you took another drag.  

“Oh, so now that your friends and brother aren’t round you show your true colours.” He snorted sarcastically.  

“No, more like I don’t feel the need to act like a fake Barbie doll now my friends aren’t around.” You sighed as crouched down.  

“I used to know someone like you.” He chuckled, as he squatted down in front of you.  

“Lydia Martin.” You huffed with a laugh.  

“The love of Stiles Stilinski’s life.” You added sarcastically.  

“Oh, so you heard about that?” Stiles laughed, running his hands through his slowly drying hair.  

“Everyone knows. It’s also like everyone knows not to touch Lydia now because it’s like a written law that you two will end up together. Small town. People gossip.” You scoffed irritably.  

“Lydia’s in love with someone else. I’m over her. We’re friends. I know you were dating Kieran and everyone kept saying you two were the perfect couple that you’d marry each other straight outta high school but last week you broke up.” Stiles retaliated softly with a sad smile.  

“He didn’t know the real me. Seemed cruel to keep leading him on.” You muttered with a frown as you thought about your parent’s marriage.  

To everyone in this town your family was perfect and rich but behind closed curtains, your entire family was fucked. Your brother smoked weed constantly, your mother was an alcoholic and your father was a cheating piece of shit that brought his mistresses home.  

It’s not a family if you have to pretend.  

“You’re different from what I thought.” Stiles whispered, more to himself than you.  

“Why? Because I’m not perfect?” You huffed with a dark laugh.  

“No. You seem less…Doll-like…I feel like when I see you I’m staring at a fragile doll-like if I touch you or stare too long you’ll break.” Stiles sighs sadly, causing you to stare at him in shock. He hit the nail on the head. You put out your cigarette before glancing up at him with a sad smile.  

“Sometimes the things that go on behind closed doors are things that have to be hidden for the sake of the family.” You replied the words taken from something your mother once told you.  

“If you can’t be true to yourself then you’re not living. You’re just breathing.” Stiles shot you a sympathetic smile that should have pissed you off but somehow it made you smile back.  

“My mom drinks…” You started as you stared at the ground.  

“She does it to forget my dad’s infidelity.” You laughed your tone dark and hateful.  

“That’s fucked up, dude.” Stiles huffed angrily.  

“You’re telling me…My brother started smoking weed last year to deal with it but now it’s like half the time I see him…He’s fucking stoned out his mind.” You whispered, the pain now evident in your voice.  

“I’m the first person you’ve told about this aren’t I?” Stiles muttered as he stood up, holding his hand out so he could help you up.  

“Yeah. I’ve seen you with your friends…You’re loyal. I feel like I can trust you.” You stated as you stared into his eyes looking for any sign you’d just fucked up by telling another person about your fake family.  

“I won’t tell a soul.” Stiles chuckled a big grin on his face.  

“Thanks, Stiles. You’re lucky to have friends and a dad like the Sheriff.” You commented shyly.  

“You know my dad?” Stiles commented confusion in his voice.  

“Yeah, he’s brought back my brother stoned or drunk a few times. Your dad never books him for it because I have a feeling he has an idea what goes on behind closed doors. He’s a good man.” You muttered softly as you remembered the conversation you had with the Sheriff.  

“Thanks. I think so too.” Stiles huffed proudly. You giggled at his expression before walking off.  

“Bye Stilinski!” You chuckled over your shoulder earning an excitable wave from the boy in return.  

Over the next few weeks you hung out with Stiles after school, occasionally some days he couldn’t come due to plans with his friends but if he couldn’t hang he’d text you constantly. You’d grown closer and it made you happy to be able to talk to someone about your problems.  

You got out of your car grabbing your white leather Chanel handbag before spotting Stiles’ jeep pull up. You looked around to check that your friends or brother weren’t about before running up to him and jumping on his back, not realising Scott was at the other side of the car.  

“Good morning Sti.” You giggled as you kissed his cheek.  

“Good morning princess.” He retorted sarcastically before glancing at Scott who was now staring with wide eyes.  

“Stiles, why is Xavier’s baby sister kissing you?” Scott muttered making you now very aware of his presence.  

“I-I only kissed his cheek I m-mean…It’s not l-like I…ya know.” You stuttered nervously as you looked around to check no one else had noticed the display.  

“Hey, Y/N, breath he’s just shocked. He doesn’t care.” Stiles chuckled softly as he ruffled your hair, earning a glare from you as you fixed your hair.  

“No, I don’t mind, just wondered. I didn’t realise you two were friends…Wait! Is this the girls you’ve been texting constantly, that’s had you smiling every 5 seconds.” Scott laughed as he pointed at Stiles with an amused face.  

“No!” Stiles shouted quickly.  

“No!?” You snapped angrily as you glared at him.  

“I mean yes!” Stiles corrected earning an eye roll from both you and Scott.  

“How come you never talk in school?” Scott asked causing you to freeze.  

“I didn’t wanna drag her down to my nerd depths.” Stiles chuckled as he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.  

“Scott’s right, we should talk in school too!” You exclaimed as your heart started thumping nervously.  

“Y/N, you don’t have to-”  

“No, come on you can walk me to my locker!” You giggled plastering a fake smile on your face which you were sure Stiles could decipher by now. You linked arms with him and began walking towards the school.  

“Ha! No.” Stiles shook his arm out of yours shocking you and Scott.  

“I am not walking in there linking arms. I’ll look like your new gay bestie!” Stiles exclaimed dramatically causing you and Scott to burst out laughing. He threw his arm over your shoulder with a grin.  

“And walking in like you’re my new Bae is better?” You snorted as you wrapped your arm around his waist.  

“Don’t ever say Bae again or I’ll disown you but yes it's better.” Stiles laughed sarcastically, earning a slap to his chest from you.  

“I’d rather you really were my boyfriend but ya know.” You muttered under your breath.  

You walked into school with Stiles’ arm slung around you and it took all of 5 seconds before the whispers started. You kept your head up knowing if you lowered it, people would think you had something to be ashamed of.  

Scott glanced at you with wide eyes as if asking if you were okay but you just sent him a smile. He walked you to your locker where your friends were waiting. He gave you a hug before kissing your forehead.  

“Laters, princess.” He chuckled as you shot him a heart-warming smile.  

“Bye.” You whispered shyly and once he was gone the hyenas were on you so fast, you almost didn’t even see them move.  

“You’re dating Stiles!?” Jenny whisper yelled with wide eyes.  

“No.” You muttered quietly wishing you could say yes.  

“Then why did he call you princess and kiss you!?” Anna questioned angrily.  

“He’s a friend of mine.” You answered sweetly, trying to stop yourself from strangling each and every one of them. You ignore the rest of the questions and head to class as you took deep breaths and tried to calm down.  

When lunch came around you were worn out from all the questions from other students had been asking, so when lunch came around you went to the cafeteria and took your food to Stiles’ table. You looked around the table seeing no chairs so you just sat on Stiles’ knee. He made no comment as you started eating your lunch but you could see every one of his friend staring at you.  

“Why is Xavier’s sister sitting at our table?” Liam asked quietly.  

“I have a name too, Dunbar.” You huffed angrily as you shot him a frown.  

“Y/N, right?” Lydia asked sassily.  

“Yes, Lydia.” You answered just as sassily.  

“Woah! What happened to make you all pissy?” Stiles asked as he looked into your eyes.  

“Nothing.” You sighed as you looked away from his intense gaze.  

“Oh no, we’re not doing this again, princess. Tell me.” Stiles sighed his brow furrowing slightly.  

“I’ve been hounded none stop since this morning and I really want a smoke but I promised you I wouldn’t.” You pouted as you glanced at him briefly. Stiles nodded before picking up a fry and holding it to your lips without any more questions.  

“My question is why is she sat on Stiles’ knee?” Malia growled causing you to freeze. You remembered her and Stiles dating for a while but you were sure they’d broken up. Maybe you’d been wrong.  

“Why does that matter?” Jackson huffed obnoxiously.  

“There were no seats and Stiles is single and obviously her friend.” Ethan added earning a nod from Scott.  

You tried not to smile so you shoved another chip in your mouth. Stiles tucked your hair behind your ear sweetly before holding out his water bottle for you. You took it with a thank you before taking a sip. The rest of lunch went like this, though I could tell his friends felt a little awkward. Stiles reassured you they just had to get used to you.  

After you walked to your locker with him, he placed his hand to the side of your head against the locker. You glanced at him in suspicion before he leaned in and whispered in your ear.  

“Your girlfriends are staring from behind their books.” Stiles chuckled against your ear, sending shiver straight down your spine.  

“What, so you thought you’d make my life harder to explain by making it look like your whispering dirty shit in my ear.” You whispered back, purposely brushing your lips against his ear. He pulled back biting his lower lip to try and hide his smile.  

“I mean if you’d like me to make it easier I could totally whisper dirty things in your ear?” Stiles stated with a smirk. You let out a little snort even though you knew your cheeks were likely red but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.  

The rest of the day was filled with more questions and gossip but after spending lunchtime with Stiles you didn’t care. You head was filled with thoughts of him. Stiles had asked if you wanted to have dinner at his but you’d yet to go to Stiles’ house and you were honestly nervous. Would his dad be home? Would his dad like you even though he’d basically arrested your brother more times than you could count?  

At the end of the day, you followed Stiles home in your car with a nauseous feeling in your stomach from nerves but you ignored it as you pulled up and got out with your handbag. Stiles slung his arm over your shoulder which made you laugh remembering earlier in the day.  

You walked into his house following him to what turned out to be the kitchen. He grabbed two soda’s passing you one silently before his dad walked into the kitchen clearly shocked to see you in his kitchen drinking soda.  

“Hi, Y/N.” The Sheriff greeted with a small smile.  

“Hi, Sheriff.” You greeted politely, which made his smile widen.  

“Please call me Noah. I didn’t know you and Stiles were friends?” He questioned as he pulled out a bottle of water.  

“It’s a new development.” You laughed as Stiles looked between you and his dad quietly.  

“Oh, are you the new girl my son has been goi-”  

“Okaaaaay! That’s enough of that pops.” Stiles exclaimed with a glare.  

“Well, it’s good to see Stiles dating again.” The Sheriff huffed with a proud smile.  

“Oh, we’re not dating!” You squeaked with a blush.  

“God, no need to sound so offended.” Stiles snorted sarcastically.  

“The whole school thinks we’re dating if I was offended I’d correct them.” You replied, sticking out your tongue childishly.  

“Why does the whole school think your dating?” The Sheriff asked with a raised brow.  

“Cos Stiles put his arm over my shoulder when we went into school today, then at lunch he p-”  

“THAT’S ENOUGH OF THAT!” Stiles shouted rather loudly causing you to jump.  

“Well, that sounds like an eventfully day.” The Sheriff chuckled you nodded cheerfully as he started asking about the rest of your day.  

You sat in the living room with the Sheriff while Stiles made tea. His words were fatherly and caring which made you smile down at your lap happily. He asked about your brother which you awkwardly answered but he didn’t judge you or bring it up after that.  

“So, you like my son?” The Sheriff questioned as he stared at you over his coffee.  

“W-What?” You squealed a blush making its way to your face for what felt like the millionth time that day.  

“He may be blind but I’m not.” The Sheriff chuckled causing you to laugh.  

“Yeah…He’s sweet and he accepts me for who I am even though my family is screwed up. He’s very affectionate too.” You giggle as you remember all the forehead kisses and hugs he’s given you.  

“It appears you’re just as blind as my son.” The Sheriff mumbled making your eyes widen as if you’d miss heard it.  

“Pardon?” You asked politely.  

“Nothing, anyway Stiles should be done soon why don’t we go and sit in the dining room?” The Sheriff asked with a smile. You gave him a nod and followed after him.  

You sat down at the table with the Sheriff as Stiles served up lasagne. After he’d done he stroked your hair. You looked up at him and he kissed your forehead quickly before sitting down. You smiled happily as you dug into the food. Stiles cooking was beyond amazing, which honestly didn’t shock you because you knew his dad worked a lot and his mom wasn’t around so you figured Stiles knew how to cook.  

“This is really good!” He exclaimed with a giggle.  

“It’s my mom’s recipe she taught me how to make it.” Stiles muttered with a smile. You leant over and ran your fingers through his hair before caressing his cheek with your thumb. He glanced over at you with a grin and nodded to you letting you know he’s was fine.  

“You two are so sweet!” You heard a female voice come from behind you. You turned round to see Scott and Mrs McCall stood there.  

“Mrs McCall!” You giggled as you ran over to give her a hug.  

“Hi, sweetie. I didn’t know you and Stiles had started dating.” You let out a dramatic whine as the Sheriff and Stiles started laughing.  

“How do you know my mom?” Scott asked as he sat down with a plate of lasagne.  

“Ermm well…” You flushed as you awkwardly pushed your food around.  

“Y/N wants to be a nurse when she gets older.” Mrs McCall supplied while wiping sauce off the Sheriff's cheek causing him to grin.  

“Really? You never told me that.” Stiles gasped as he reached out to hold your hand.  

“This town is kinda accident prone so I want to be able to help people.” You giggled but for some reason everyone froze, causing you to frown. You felt like there was something you should know but you decided to leave it for now and ask Stiles later.  

A few seconds later there was a knock at the door you stood telling them you’d get it but what stood at the door shocked you to your core. There stood Jackson and Ethan holding a bleeding man that looked vaguely familiar.  

“Oh my god! Get him in here!” You screamed urgently.  

“Stiles, can you get me warm water, alcohol and a towel please!” You screamed as they laid the man down on the couch.  

“Wh- OH MY GOD, DEREK!” Stiles screamed as he ran up to the man.  

“STILES TOWEL, WATER, ALCOHOL GO!” You screamed as you ripped off Derek’s shirt seeing several slash wounds it looked like an animal had mauled him.  

“MELISSA, I NEED YOUR HELP!” You screamed as you took off your cardigan and held it to the worst wound. Melissa ran in with Stiles following. You took the towel and water before cleaning most of the blood when you’d done you grabbed the alcohol and looked up at Jackson and Scott.  

“Hold him down.” Was all you needed to say before you began cleaning the wounds with alcohol the man thrashed around and roared but right now the fact that this man had glowing blue eyes wasn’t a problem or something you could get scared of, right now you needed to stop his bleeding.  

“Ethan, hold his legs.” You screamed as his legs started kicking around.  

“Melissa, hold this for now.” You said pointing to the cardigan on the vastly bleeding cut.  

“I need you to tell me how to help him. He’s obviously not human and right now I have no idea whether I should call an ambulance or wait.” You sighed as you looked at Stiles.  

“Werewolf. He’ll heal fast.” Stiles muttered but instead of questioning you nodded and turned to the Sheriff.  

“I need a needle, lighter and thread. Even if he heals faster, it’s not going to stop bleeding until I close it.” You stated softly before turning to Melissa.  

“I think we should stitch this one then bandage his torso just until the bleeding stops.” You muttered softly as if asking for her approval.  

“Well done, Y/N.” She muttered in a soft motherly tone that made you smile.  

After Melissa stitched him up and bandaged him, Derek passed out. You picked up the remaining vodka and took a swing earning a raised eyebrow from the Sheriff. You stood up and crossed your arms.  

“I just tended to a bleeding dying man who turned out to be a werewolf. I think I deserve it.” You sighed before turning to Stiles.  

“Explain. Now.” You snapped angrily. You weren’t angry because Stiles associated with werewolves you were angry because he didn’t tell you. You had thought he trusted you.  

“That is Derek Hale. He’s a werewolf.” He stated simply with an awkward smile.  

“That much I already figured out myself, thanks. How many of your friends are wolves?” You sighed knowing that going back a few years Stiles wouldn’t have been seen dead with Jackson but now it was like they had mutual trust.  

“That’s not my secret to tell.” Stiles sighed softly.  

“Scott, your one right?” You questioned as you turned to him.  

“How?”  

“My brother has been playing lacrosse with you since freshmen year. You don’t think I noticed when you went from asthmatic and benched to first line with perfect health and reflexes?” You snorted before turning to Jackson and Ethan.  

“Ethan and his brother turned up when people started dying last year. I’m gonna go with your one and Jackson…You and Stiles used to hate each other and now you seem to have this weird mutual understanding. So I’m gonna go with you too. So that leaves you.” You pointed to Stiles.  

“What, you can’t suss me out?” Stiles chuckled with his arms crossed.  

“No, I can’t.” You muttered angrily as you glanced at Melissa you way wiping away Derek’s sweat.  

“Derek Hale. Cora Hales big brother and has an Uncle called Peter. The family died in a fire 12 years ago.” You muttered as you stared at the man.  

“How do you know that?” Stiles asked suspiciously.  

“Laura used to babysit me…” You whispered sadly as you remembered hearing about her death nearly 2 years ago.  

“Derek probably doesn’t remember me. We only met once or twice.” You snorted as you remembered the huge crush you used to have on him.  

“I used to have a huge crush on him. He’s grown a lot since I saw him so I didn’t recognise him until you said his name.” You muttered as you remembered all the times Laura teased you.  

“Why does everyone seem to like Derek Hale!?” Stiles grumbled childishly.  

“Because he’s hot.” You, Melissa, Ethan and Jackson said at the same time.  

“Objectifying a man while he’s passed out from blood loss. Classy, Y/N.” You heard a gruff voice mumbled. You looked down to see Derek with one eye open.  

“I was taught by the best.” You chuckled before you felt an arm wrap around you. You looked to see Stiles glaring at Derek who raised an eyebrow at you.  

“No, we’re not dating!” You snapped at him but he sent you a smirk.  

“Shut up, I don’t need your opinionated facial expressions, Hale.” You huffed as Stiles snorted next to you, before kissing your temple affectionately  

“You grew up.” Derek huffed  

“I feel old.” He added making you laugh.  

“So who runs the pack?” You asked softly as you glanced at Stiles. Stiles raised an eyebrow at you as if asking how you’d know that a pack needs a leader.  

“I read a lot of werewolf romance novels, okay? Don’t judge me!” You huffed with a blush as everyone laughed at you.  

“That would be me.” Scott chuckled but his answer had your jaw hitting the floor.  

“Scott McCall is an Alpha?” You gasped.  

Months after finding out you’d been accepted into the pack as another human member. You had settled in with everyone else, you finally stopped caring about fake friends and pretending to be someone else.  

You were currently sat at a pack meeting with Scott talking away about a pack that had asked permission to pass through. You’d zoned out to stare at Stiles who was sat next to Scott with a serious expression. He ran his hands through his hair before biting his lip in what looked to be stressed out manner.  

Once the meeting was over you grabbed yourself a water from Derek’s kitchen with a sigh. You wanted to tell Stiles how you felt but you had no idea how. Maybe you should just kiss him? Or jump his bones?  

You laughed at the thought, earning a raised eyebrow from Derek who had come to put the coffee pot on. You shot him a grin before skipping back to the living room. The pack were setting up a film so you sought out Stiles, spotting him sat in the corner of one of the couches.  

You sat on his knee then looked up at him with a smile which he returned. You decided while the pack was busy you’d make your move. You leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips before turning to the film with a blush creeping up your neck. However, as you finally started calming your heart, you were picked up.  

“We’ll be back in a minute.” Stile stated as he carried you to the kitchen bridal style.  

“Wanna tell me what just happened?” Stile asked seriously which honestly scared you.  

“I-I kissed you?” You supplied, though it came out more like a question.  

“Why?” He asked just as seriously as before.  

“Because I like you…if not m-more than th-that…” you stuttered your blush coming back tenfold. Just as you were about to get down Stiles cupped both your cheeks and planted a passionate kiss on your lips before pulling back and gazing into your eyes.  

“Thank god. I’ve wanted to do that for forever.” Stiles sighed before placing another kiss on your lips.  

“Would you do the honour of being my official girlfriend?” Stiles muttered with a small hopeful smile.  

“I would love to Sti.” You giggled happily.  

[josephquinnswhore]

Hiiii bub thank you soooo much for the request here’s another one I have (based on me)

TW: blood & commit and anxiety attack

May you please do a Pedro pascal x plus size reader where readers worst fear is blood and any time they see it the feel nauseous and go in to an anxiety attack. Basically I was sick last week and had the absolute worst tummy bug (I’m all better) and threw up so hard my nose bled that I almost passed out and had an anxiety attack. Basically do it based off what happen to me and if u can add Bella and Nico and Gabriela calling Pedro bc he is the only one to calm reader down from these panic attacks.

Thank you in advance

My Comfort

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Fem/Plus Size Reader!

Summary: you’re sick and Pedro’s called back from his luck to see you in a bad way.

Word Count: 2k

Content Warning: reader is sick, mentions of blood, panic attack, vomit.

Note: hi sun bun 🐰, I love you. We must be the same person fr cause I’ve been sick for over a month LMAO and I get so queasy when I see blood. UGH, hopefully this gives you what you need. I also throw up to the point where my throat bleeds lol it’s so fucked. 🫶🏼🥰 I made it pretty dramatic LOL. M sorry it’s short.

You told yourself you were fine, you could do the filming through the sickness. You were sipping on your water and drinking your raspberry flavoured hydralyte, even though it tasted like shit. Just to try and get yourself through the day, unable to tell yourself you’re not sick enough to show up for work. It was too important, it came before everything else in your life, well, almost everything. It was second in line to your boyfriend and co-worker, Pedro.

“You’re okay. You’re okay. Just one more scene to shoot, then you can go home.” You chanted to yourself as you look in the mirror trying to convince yourself it to be true, thinking maybe if you said it aloud it would enforce some truth. Your face was losing colour with every passing minute, and the darkness around your eyes was a clear indication that everything was far from okay, that you were not okay.

But you felt guilty, you didn’t want to let the team down by going home and delaying the episode when you had one measly scene left to shoot, you may as well just tough it out and get through it as best you could. It would maybe take a couple hours at most, you could do that! Right? You started to doubt yourself at the way your limbs started to ache and feel heavy. It hurt to hold your head upright.

You turn on the tap to the cold water, letting the water gather into your cupped hands before you bring it to your face, the coolness is refreshing, you exhale a deep breath to try and relax, patting your face dry with some paper towel and throw it into the trash bin. You could do this. You couldn’t give up.

“Hey, are you feeling okay? You don’t look so hot.” Gabriel sets a hand on your shoulder, his thick black eyebrows were nearly touching as he frowned, his dark brown eyes squinted with concern at one look of you, his hand feels like it weighs a tonne on your aching shoulder. “I-I mean you are, but, you know.” He gestures to you and you raise an eyebrow at him, you didn’t wanna have to deal with this right now-as much as you liked him.

“Dude shut it, are you okay?” Bella asks, her face strewn with concern for your well-being. You swallow your spit loudly, gulping down the clump that sits in your throat, feeling more ill with every passing second. “Um…I’m ok, I think.” you can’t decide what to say, unsure of whether you even believe your obvious and blatant lies. Bella looks to Nico and they know you’re lying, sharing a look of sympathy toward you, watching as you slightly sway as you stand still.

“Why don’t you just sit down for a second, have some water.” You nod to Nico, “thanks,” you mumble in agreement as she sets a gentle hand on your back, helping you sit, agreeing it’s a good idea. The bright lights of the set don’t help the ache in your head that’s contributing to your illness. Your eyes squint as your brain throbs at how bright it is, you blink harshly, trying to rid the ache that’s set in motion, the shadow of a headache you knew would grow into a migraine.

“Wouldn’t hurt to sit for five minutes.” You mumble in an unintelligible slur, as you feel a wave of nausea coming over you, it shakes your whole body to the core, the feeling settles uncomfortably in the pit of your stomach. Your fingers grasp your bottle shakily with the hydralyte, desperate to rid your body of the nausea setting, but it wasn’t your bottle, and it wasn’t hydralyte. It was a bottle of soft drink, the fizz of the soda causes a rift in your stomach that feels like it’s about to explode. The feeling builds and builds until it feels like it’s going to erupt, from your mouth.

“Oh my god, someone get me a bucket.” You hunch over in your seat with one arm wrapped around your stomach, the other holding your hand over your mouth, the nausea rising up your throat that you have to swallow down the first time it attempts its exit because you would’ve just spewed all over the floor on set. You heave again, this time Gabriel is holding a bucket underneath your mouth, the taste of the liquid makes your stomach ache even though it barely has time to digest.

The same coloured liquid comes out as clear, mostly bile the first few times, until the stench of the contents in the bucket circulates through your nostrils and churns your stomach again, twisting until it shoots up your throat, this one hurt your throat badly, the sting it made coming out has you unable to breathe for a few seconds, your lash line full to the brim with unshed tears, coughing violently as someone rubs a hand along your back, trying to soothe you.

You feel something dribbling from your nose and you wipe it with the back of your hand, not caring how disgusting it would seem to anyone else. You expect to see snot or mucus on your hand associated with the tears brought to your eyes from the vomiting. To your surprise you see a bright red liquid, your blood was coating your hand in a rugged line on your hand, your nose was bleeding.

“Oh shit you’re bleeding.” Nico exclaims, panic evident in her voice, inspecting your nose and handing you a tissue, the blood filled the tissue within a few seconds, the flow from your nostril not giving up. You must’ve burst a blood vessel in your nostril with how it’s pouring out of you, you start to feel dizzy at the sight of how much blood you’re losing. You pull back the tissue and feel it leaking through the tissue, your fingertips were now stained red from how profusely it was bleeding.

It starts with your hands trembling, your body becomes stiff and you can hardly hear anyone around you. Your fingers are shaking that badly you drop the bloody tissue, your nose is now free bleeding all over you and your clothes. Your breaths are rugged and panicked. The ache in your neck causes it to fall, your whole body falling forward destined to hit the ground until Gabriel catches you, sitting you on the floor, lying you on your side.

“Call Pedro back from lunch, now. And get the damn medic.” Bella demands Gabriel who stands in a panic not knowing what to do, he rushes to get his phone and makes the call to Pedro, Nico rushes away to find the medic on set while Bella stays with you. She’s knelt down beside you, trying to pry you upright but your body is stiff and unmoving other than the small underlying tremble of your body.

The medic arrives first, she’s kneeling down beside Bella to look at you, eyeing the teenager in shock at the state of you. “Hey hun can you hear me? It’s Cas I’m here to help.” You feel a warm hand on your body as she rolls you onto your back, the ache from the touch alone causes you to whimper, your eyes are strewn shut at the brightness of the room, it was all too much, you just wanted Pedro.

She pulls out of her bag a cuff, to check your blood pressure, the tightening of the cuff on your arm was pleasantly satisfying, slightly grounding you with each notch of pressure that was released. “Okay, blood pressures a little low but nothing to be worried about. Just going to check your temperature sweetie.” She moves your arm, shoving a thermometer under your armpit and waits for it to beep. She checks it and purses her lips together on a thin line.

“Baby, oh my god is she okay?” Pedro kneels down next to you, his hands are holding your cheeks, cupped in his own large hands the warmth from them makes you sweat, a result of your ever rising temperature. “Is she okay?” Pedro asks Cas, she puts the thermometer away. “She had a reading of 39.2 degrees, she’s got a fever, not sure what’s causing it though.”

“Hey baby, hey can you hear me? It’s me baby I’m here.” You could barely find the strength in you to open your eyes, eyelids squinting to protect your eyes from the brightness of the room. “Hey.” You mutter, with the last of your strength you could muster before you fall unconscious.

-

Pedro’s leg is bouncing the whole time he’s sat in the chair beside your bed in the hospital. The beeping of the monitor keeping your reading would sometimes make a commotion in the event of a momentary spike in blood pressure, “it’s just trying to regulate itself.” The nurse offered, which didn’t make him feel any better.

“Mr Pascal, it’s nice to meet you, I’m Dr Wrent, we’ve been doing some tests on your girlfriend here today. We’ve come to find that she’s somehow contracted a deadly stomach bug, it’s rare but not unknown, we can give some anti biotics to take home and she should be fine within the week.” The doctor put your folder and hung it on the end of the bed, “by the way, make sure you enforce that she takes a break, tell her to stop working so hard.”

“Right, I’ll do that. Thanks for everything.” Pedro sunk back into his chair and waited for you to wake up, the small sandwich and juice from the cafeteria sitting unopened as you lie peacefully.

You start to stir right when Pedro feels his eyelids drooping, begging him to close so he can have a moments rest. He hears the shuffling before his brain has the chance to fully lull him into sleep, rustling around in the front of his mind to wake up, sending an alarm throughout his body that you were finally awake.

“God baby you’re awake. You scared the shit out of everyone you know that?” As if you hadn’t felt guilty enough, the worry on His face made it worse. You couldn’t look at him, avoidant in your stare towards him, looking quite literally elsewhere until he leaned over the bed and grabbed your face in his hands, forcing you to look up at him.

“I’m sorry baby- I didn’t mean,” he takes a deep breath before continuing. “We were worried about you, why didn’t you tell someone you weren’t feeling well?” You should’ve just done that to begin with you knew, but you were too stubborn.

“I just convinced myself I should do it, I didn’t want to disappoint anyone by delaying the season for one last scene.” Pedro’s hand caresses your hair, fingers gliding through your hair as he calms you. “From now on you put yourself forward okay? Promise me.”

You pull your bottom like between your teeth, enjoying the sting it brings when you bite down too hard, “okay, I promise.”

“I’m proud of you though, you saw that blood and didn’t die, soooo.” Pedro trails off with a small laugh and you groan and roll your eyes, shoving his arm. “Don’t remind me, that’s so embarrassing.”

Pedro stands from the bed, handing you a sandwich wrapped in a paper bag, “you know I think they’re gonna put a scene of you passing out in the show.” You stop feeling back the paper bag and look at him suspiciously, “they wouldn’t want to!”

He simply shrugs, “you didn’t hear that from me, now eat. Need my baby strong.” You unwrap and bite into the sandwich, it contained all your favourite fillings and you smile, stomach feeling settled and the ache of the emptiness was now gone as you’d managed to swallow some food. You’d sure learnt a valuable lesson; Gabriel is useless when it comes to emergency situations.