#i had tears when bad was fighting to get to the elevator | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sugarlywhispers · 3 months ago

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b.katsuki x reader (fem) | quirkless!reader, prohero!dynamight, arranged marriage au.

a.n; fare warning, THIS IS A MONSTER<3 lol

Fuckin' Marry Me Series | First Part | Second Part |

The gentle sound of the scribble your pen makes over the paper, right where it requires your formal signature, is heard louder than you expected in that tense silence. Well, it isn't a bad silence, but more like an anxious one. One that has Bakugou, who is sitting right next to you, literally shaking his right leg up and down continuously, even though you already told him you would do this.

And what does ‘this’ mean? It means you agreed to marry Bakugou-annoying ass-Katsuki. To help him finally be free from his own mother's clutches.

You had a hard time believing in the whole story he told you when he knocked on your door last Sunday morning –almost tearing down the door actually– after his father died. Even though you had agreed that same day, you asked him for a few days to clear your head a bit. He accepted, respecting your space even at work, which was weird.

A normal day at work always starts with a banter with this same man right at the entrance of the company and it follows until you enter the elevator. Everyone is already used to it, so they ignore both of you. It mostly ends when you have to get off on the floor where your office is, which is one under the one where all heroes keep their hero costumes and get changed. Of course, sometimes the banter would continue if you were assigned to work with Hero Dynamight through the earbuds that connected you at a distance.

That Monday morning though, was different. Weird for everyone who looked at both of you in shock. The moment you stood in front of the other right outside the company, everyone was waiting for it to happen, yet found themselves opening their eyes wide in surprise as you and Bakugou simply bowed slightly in hello and walked towards the building in complete silence. It followed inside the elevator, where he willingly stood next to you –you always stood on each side of it to avoid even accidentally touching. Nobody could believe their eyes. Especially when it was your moment to walk out on your floor and he said, “See ya’ around”, and you turned your head towards him and slightly smiled, murmuring a timidly, “You too. Take care outside.”

That day you weren't assigned to work with him, nor the two days after –in which these same actions and words were repeated by both of you every morning– yet you could feel the whispers and gossip around about this neutral ground between you two. Your boss even called you to his office to ask if everything was okay.

You internally laughed at the situation. It was so normal for you to fight with Bakugou that everyone found it weird and worrisome if you didn't. It was actually hilarious.

Wednesday shift had you entering the office at 5 p.m. and would have you leaving at almost 3 a.m. –if the hero assigned to you didn't get caught in a villain fight around that time. So when you were about to take the elevator and its door opened, you almost bumped into a freshly showered and already leaving Bakugou Katsuki.

“Oh, hey…”

“Hey,” he answered back. Both of you took a step out of the elevator, standing right in front of each other. One of his hands flew to the back of his head, scratching it and making small droplets of his still wet hair fall as he spoke, “I was, ummm, gonna talk to you today… but, umm, your shift…”

“Oh yeah, it's night shift today,” you nodded, hands holding the strap of your bag, trying to look casual and not let the nerves be shown. “Yours finished?”

“Yeah, tomorrow's night shift for me.”

“I know, I'm with you tomorrow,” you smiled.

His eyebrows pulled up, nodding in acceptance, “Cool.”

Yours frown, tilting your head a bit to the side, “Is it? Since when?” Now that you think about it, all that neutral ground between you two was very weird. New, but weird.

He rolled his eyes, hands hiding inside the pockets of his jacket.

“Since I'm trynna marry y–”

“Shhhh! Shut it, not here!” He smirked arrogantly. Ah, there's the comeback of the old annoying Bakugou.

“I–...”

“KATSUKI!”

A screeching yell made the hairs of your arms stand in alert, completely unexpected for you. Yet for the man in front of you was a sound he was very familiar with. He grunted, his mood completely changing into anger as he turned around towards the yell.

“The fuck are you doing here, old hag?”

Oh. His mother.

You have seen her at a distance before, never actually got to meet her personally or even hear her voice –you were glad about that last particular fact though, she sounded awful.

You didn't miss to recognize the position Bakugou had you at the moment when he turned around and covered your small form behind his massive body from his mother to even acknowledge your presence there. You're grateful for his surprising and kind of sensitive tact. He's giving you an out from that, what you know for sure was going to be, a quite tense moment.

“I fucking told you, you need to hurry! I’m not fucking waiting for you any longer!” She yelled again, not caring at all about the place she was nor the people around in the lobby.

Bakugou looked to the side, taking a very deep breath before pinching his nose. His hand then hung loosely on the side of his body, but he kept opening and closing his hand in a fist. Oh wow, he was really holding himself back.

You didn't know what possessed you to do what you did or why, but you acted before thinking.

Your hand flew towards his, holding his trembling fist tightly. You knew it took him by surprise, but he hid it well by standing straighter, body still hiding you behind him. You knew for a fact that his face didn’t show any emotion other than anger, so nothing was amiss. His arm flexed behind him, bringing yours with his, as his hand opened and held yours tightly back.

This had been the very first time you willingly touched him. The first time you actually ever touched him at all. And your eyes couldn't leave the sight of his big hand fully surrounding yours, making you feel smaller than ever. I mean, you had eyes, he was a freaking hulk next to you. But the warm feeling of it enclosing yours securely made you feel safe, protected. It also felt calloused, a hand that was used every day to bring down bad guys and protect a whole nation, if not the world. Yet the warmth in it made your whole body tingle.

Fuck. What was this?

“I fuckin’ told you not to come in the first place,” he didn't need to yell, his voice sounded loud and clear even at the distance.

“HURRY THE FUCK UP!”

You tightened your hold on his hand, just to ground him in support. He sighed, returning the gesture to thank you before saying in his mother's direction, “I'm fuckin’ going, you pain in the ass”, and walked towards her, letting go of your hand.

His mother simply turned and walked in front of him outside of the building. She never realized you had been there the whole time.

The moment had been so stressful, and if that was what Bakugou had to deal with every day since he was born, damn. You actually felt sorry for him.

Thanks to the glass walls of the lobby you could watch the Bakugous walk towards the expensive car waiting for them outside. They were clearly shit-talking to each other the whole way, until before they got inside the car, his mother actually slapped the back of his head strongly. Twice.

A rising rage traveled up your body, hands closing in fists. What the fuck?! Who the fuck did she think she was? Why the hell did she need to fucking hit him like that, twice? Why the hell did she do it at all? Fuck, you were starting to believe in everything Bakugou told you about her.

“You get it now, don't you?” Izuku's voice from behind you made you jump a bit in surprise.

You cleared your throat, looking elsewhere and breathing deeply, trying to clear your head.

“I don't–”

Izuku's hand raised, making you go silent. “Before you come up with a clever excuse, let me remind you that Kacchan and I have been friends since diapers… and we talk to each other.”

His eyeing made you gulp, but his words were clear enough, “You know then.”

He nodded, hand detaining the elevator’s doors so you both could enter, him after you. “He came to my apartment right after and told me all that happened. I was at the funeral too.”

He didn't need to explain anymore, it was more than clear he was talking about last Sunday when Bakugou asked you to marry him. You knew his father had died sometime Saturday afternoon and that the funeral was held that same night. Bakugou had come to your apartment right after his father had been cremated.

“I know you two fight like cats and dogs all the time, but he's not that bad once you give him a chance. And by what you just saw, I know you understand now why he's always on the defensive.”

You sigh. Damn it, you do. Growing up in an environment like that made you think it was actually a miracle Bakugou turned out the way he did.

“I also know that you agreed to marry him to help him be finally free from his mother,” he confirmed out loud once the doors of the elevator closed and it was just the two of you in there.

“Any advice?”

He chuckled, turning his whole body and looking directly at you, “Be open-minded. Kacchan's mouth sometimes opens before he thinks and his words don't mean what he actually intended, but his actions speak louder than anything.”

You rolled your eyes. Ugh, you were feeling the stress already.

The elevator signaled that you had arrived at your floor, so you sighed, nodding in his way as an answer and walking outside. But before the doors closed, Izuku held them for a bit longer to talk again.

“Also… Be smarter.”

“Than him?” You asked confused.

“Than her.”

And with that, he let the doors close, a smile plastered on his face that told on all the mischief his eyes shined with.

This little… cheeky bastard.

The audacity.

You made a mental note to punch Izuku the next time you bumped into him. On purpose.

Throughout the rest of the day, you couldn't get that image of Bakugou being abused by his own mother out of your head. Because yes, it was fucking abuse. And in fucking public! How many times had this happened already? And why the fuck no one had ever said or done anything against it? Even when he was a kid?!

It was outrageous.

And the fact that Bakugou held himself back, because you knew he did, not only because she was his mother but also because she was a woman –and you could bet she fucking used that at her advantage– only spoke about the kind of man he was.

Bakugou Katsuki is a good man.

You took your cell phone out and searched for his contact number, your fingers flying over the keyboard.

You: Make the appointment for this Friday.

His reply didn't take long.

Bakugou K.: Done.

You took a deep breath. The decision was made. And you were not going to back out from it. Or so you hoped.

Another notification made your phone ring and it was another text message.

Bakugou K.: Thank you.

The beginning of a smile threatened to break out from your mouth as you re-read that message several times. Until the loud pip-ing that alerted a villain attack completely distracted you, or more like, brought you back to reality.

The rest of the days went faster than you expected.

The shift on Wednesday ended on time, miraculously. So at exactly 3 a.m. you were turning off your computer and putting your stuff back in your bag. You had several notifications on your phone but didn't feel like giving them your attention at that moment, choosing to concentrate on clearing your space and going back home. You let out several yawns when you got inside the elevator, holding yourself on the handrail, sleep having you on the verge of passing out tired of the stressful days. For some reason, villains chose that week to be more active than usual, which demanded more of your focus and being in constant alert mode.

When the doors finally opened on the lobby floor, you walked towards the check-in clock to mark the end of your shift. You bowed goodbye to the receptionist and walked towards the entrance of the company. For a moment, you entertained your mind with the idea of taking a taxi to get home faster. But damn it, that was expensive, and you were not going to waste money like that. And even if you wanted to, you couldn't.

You sighed, covering your neck as best as you could with your coat once you crossed the doors, and began your walk in the direction you needed to go. It was a very chilly night, but because it was Spring, you didn't expect such cold weather.

You were thinking about how you'd have to resist this coldness until you got home when you looked up and recognized Bakugou's obviously expensive car and him resting against it, arms crossed over his chest.

“What are you doing here?”

“You didn't check your messages, short-legs?”

You denied, head shaking, “I finished the shift and packed everything. Wanted to leave as soon as possible…”

He snorted, shaking his head, “Get in. I'll take you home.”

“Oh, it's okay. I can walk…”

He frowned, “The fuck you think I would be here for then? Get in the car, dumbass.”

“Geez. Okay! No need to get grumpy, asshole.”

You rounded his car towards the passenger seat and climbed in. He followed and got on the driver's side.

The inside was warm, as the heater had been on. You smiled gladly, rubbing your freezing-cold hands to warm them up faster.

“Can't believe you were planning to walk home. Are you stupid?”

You opened your mouth, ready to fire back, but Izuku's words invaded your mind.

“…Kacchan's mouth sometimes opens before he thinks and his words don't mean what he actually intended, but his actions speak louder than anything…”

You thought for a moment, and it was actually easier than you thought to figure it out. Bakugou wasn't actually trying to insult you. He was worried that you would walk home that early in the morning, when the sun wasn't even out yet, in that weather.

Oh. That changed the perspective entirely.

“Yeah, actually,” you chuckled, hands still rubbing to heat them up. “I can't afford a taxi, and the subway isn't open yet.”

He turned on the car, but his attention was on you, “What you mean you can't afford a stupid taxi? Isn't your pay–…”

You denied, body relaxing a bit over the seat thanks to the warmth as he drove smoothly. You liked warm things. Spring was your favorite season because of it.

“Contrary to common belief, Quirk & Training Specialists don't gain much.”

“What?! Why? I mean… Most of the time is thanks to your area that we heroes are fuckin’ alive.”

“Awww. Thank you for admitting it! Now, would you admit that publicly?”

“Of fuckin’ course I would!”

You smiled, “Well, you would be the first one. Tell me, do you think other heroes would willingly admit that their wins sometimes belong to a ghost that tells them what to do or where to go through their earbuds?”

Your words made him close his mouth. Aha. Touché.

You chuckled, “It's okay, Bakugou. It's my job.”

“Now that I think about it, your name is nowhere to be seen in my reports. It's not even fuckin’ mentioned as a sidekick or something.”

“That's because I'm not a sidekick. I'm just a quirkless person who is observant enough to point you the best way to go. I'm not that important…”

“Shut the fuck up.”

You looked at him, trying to decipher what he meant. He didn't mean to insult you, what he was trying to say is, “don't say that about yourself”.

Wow. Izuku was so right about that advice. You made a mental note to thank him the next time you saw him. After punching him, of course.

The rest of the car ride was silent. But not uncomfortable. The gentle sound of the heater turned on was relaxing enough to even doze you a bit, warm and content.

Bakugou didn't speak until he parked right in front of your apartment building. You immediately noticed you had probably slept the rest of the way.

“I'm sorry, I think I fell asleep.”

“You think?” He chuckled, face looking your way. You snorted back, finding his teasing funny. His crooked smile made tingles run up your arms. Or was it the heater? Yes, that probably was it, the heater.

You cleared your throat and looked down at your seat belt and untied it –wait. You didn't remember putting it on. Did he… Did he put it on you when you fell asleep? Oh, my. You gulped, feeling the tingles run all over your body again. Fuck. You needed to leave that small space you shared with this man, like… now.

But before you did, you looked back at him one more time.

“Thank you… for driving me home,” you pulled a rebellious strand of hair behind your ear and smiled. You were indeed grateful that you actually didn't have to freeze on your way home, so you bowed slightly too.

You were about to open the door when he spoke.

“Wait,” you turned back at him and watched curiously as he opened the compartment, taking out a small folder.

He pushed it in your direction and looked expectantly at you. You took it, a bit doubtful, not quite understanding what it meant.

“I said I would sign a contract if that's what you wanted. It's just a draft, but I put some items in there that I want you to check. You can add some yourself. And if we both agree, we can sign it.”

Oh. “Oh, okay… I'll check it out and let you know.”

He nodded in response and you finally got out of the car and ran through the shocking cold towards your building. Inside the elevator, you pressed the folder over your chest. This felt way more real than what you felt earlier when you made the final decision and texted him.

But something tasted a bit… bitter. Was this something you had to do on your own? Like, the marriage was between the both of you. And while it wasn’t one out of a loving relationship, it was still something that included both. This contract thing felt like something you needed to sit down and review together.

You decided then.

Your hand searched for your phone in your bag, and ignoring all the notifications, you directly made the call.

Not one ring later, he picked up the call.

“Are you o–...”

“Did you leave?” You interrupted him before he could say anything else.

“No, I'm still down here.”

“Umm, are you tired? Cause if you are we can definitely leave it for tomorrow, or better said later, but I slept through the car ride so I'm not that tired anymore, but if you think–”

“Cut the fuckin’ rambling. Go to the point, short-legs.”

You sighed, fingers sliding through your hair and pulling it back. “If you want, he can revise this now. I think it's better if we do it together.”

You heard the intake of a deep breath, a relieved one, before he said, “Yeah… Okay. I'm on my way up.” The sound of the car's door closing confirmed he was on his way.

“Okay.”

“Okay.” He repeated and then ended the call.

It took you both three hours and just one heated discussion to come to terms with each of the items. Both satisfied with the consensual agreements, you brought out your laptop and rewrote it. You printed two copies, one for each, that you both signed. That's how the contract was ready and done. Now the next and final step would be the marriage in front of a judge. That Friday. In one day.

“We need two witnesses,” you reminded him, to which he grunted.

“Right, I forgot about that.”

“Well, we already know who you are picking…”

He pulled up an eyebrow, looking in your direction, “Huh? And who am I picking, know-it-all?”

You rolled your eyes, but smiled nonetheless, “Izuku.”

He tched, not admitting it out loud, but it was obvious you were right.

You chose to let it be and not cause any banter, mostly because you definitely felt more tired than a few hours back.

“Smart-ass. Then who are you picking, mmh?”

You shrugged, “I don't know. I was thinking Mina,” his groan made you chuckle, “but I think Jirou would keep a low profile better.”

“Yeah, good thinking.” You nodded in agreement. You loved Mina, and you knew he did too, but she couldn't keep things down sometimes. And one of the items was to keep a low profile throughout the whole marriage thing. Bakugou hated the press and paparazzi, and you weren't a fan of them either. Even though you had never been the center of attention of them, you actually preferred to keep it that way. On the low and as invisible as possible.

Thursday went very quiet and chill, which was very surprising considering it was Dynamight's shift. Sometimes, villains made you think they had a particular masochistic side and loved appearing whenever Pro Hero Dynamight was around. Some of them even loved to provoke him on purpose so he would yell all those obscenities towards them. And they enjoyed it. Freaks.

But not that Thursday. It had been a very peaceful one. It even found you chatting with Bakugou through the earbuds.

“So what now, ya’ gonna fuckin’ tell me Endeavor is better than All Might?”

“Oh, shut up, you All Might-obsessed-freak! I will admit All Might was huge, but you can't deny Endeavor stood his ground and made big stuff too.”

“Like fuckin’ what?”

“The fight with the nomu–”

“HA! Please! That was child's play. All Might took down AFO.”

“Yeah. But it was Deku who won against him in the end, not him. And All Might only fought twice against AFO. Endeavor killed a powerful nomu.”

“You are so fuckin’ blind!”

“You are the blind one!”

“How could you say Endeavor is better than All Might?!”

“I did not say that!”

“Wait– then what did y–?”

“I just said, Endeavor was N° 1 too. He was a Hero too. He deserves a bit of recognition.”

You could hear Bakugou’s snort, “So you like them complicated and misunderstood…”

Bakugou’s malice in his teasing was palpable, yet you always had an answer for him.

“Well… What does that say about you?”

“Oh, shut the fuck up!”

If you had been paying attention to your surroundings, you would have noticed all your co-workers smiling at your cute banter with Bakugou. Yet you were so invested in it, you didn't notice.

Conversations that also led to getting to know each other a little bit more also happened.

“I like orange. You?”

The question took you by surprise after almost half an hour of silence from both ends. Yet, it didn't surprise you at all his preference in color. It was kind of obvious.

“Figures. It doesn't surprise me at all–”

“What the fuck does that mean?!”

“Mine is purple.”

“Why?”

“Ummm, I don't know. I always pictured that if I had become a Hero, my costume would be purple. I decided that even before I knew if I had a Quirk or not.”

You had said it in a conversational tone, never intended to make him feel some type of way. Yet, he still asked, “And is still your favorite, even after–”

“–after I found out I am quirkless? Yes. Why wouldn't it be?”

“Mmmh,” was his simple answer.

The shift ended peacefully and on time, which both of you were grateful for, considering what the following day was.

When the shift was over, you waited a considerate couple of minutes. Minutes it would take the heroes to come back from their shift to the company. Then, you got inside the elevator but instead of going down, you went one floor up.

Your phone rang with a notification.

Bakugou K.: You asked her yet?

You rolled your eyes. So impatient.

You: No, I'm about to. I'm on your floor.

Bakugou K.: Slow ass.

You still wanted to punch him, sometimes.

You put your phone back inside your bag as you walked towards the girls’ wing of the floor, completely avoiding even looking at the boys' wing way. You knocked two times before Ochako opened the door slightly to look who it was.

“Oh, hi, Y/N!”

“Y/N!”

“Hi!”

“Hello, Y/N.”

“HI BABY!!”

All the girls present that shift greeted you cheerfully, especially Mina. You greeted back while entering the room and closing the door behind you.

You chatted with all of them here and there as they got changed, not an ounce of shyness between all of you. You were friends with almost all of them, having already worked with the majority of the girls and hung out with them many times. You knew almost all about them. Their sleep faces, their ugly cries, their drunk personalities. All of it. And they knew you too. That's why you didn't need to be subtle at all when you said, “I actually need to speak with Jirou for a moment”. Everyone understood and took it nicely as they hurried a bit their way into their clothes and grabbed their stuff before leaving you two alone.

All of them knew you and Jirou had a special friendship, a close one. She was the one you always went to when you really needed to confide in someone with something deep within you. The same thing was for Jirou. You were actually the first one of all to know when Denki confessed his feelings to her, and even talked her through her own ‘secret’ feelings for him.

“What's up, buddy?” She straddled one of the benches and sat, patting the place in front of her for you to follow.

You sat in front of her crossing your legs under you, your bag actually forgotten on the floor down the bench.

“I'm going to tell you something, but I need you to keep an open mind and listen to it all before you say anything.”

She jerked her head back a bit, already feeling confused, “You're scaring me already.”

“You have no idea…” You sighed and began the tell-tale.

Her eyes kept opening wider and wider with each thing you told her about what had been happening with you and Bakugou these last days.

What it felt like probably an hour later, you finished with, “So, that's why… we are going to get married tomorrow.”

Jirou fastly stood up, almost jumping a few steps back, and pointed a finger at you.

“That's it! That's why you have been so civil to each other! I knew something was up with– WAIT,” oh yeah, you thought she hadn't quite listened to what you just said. But then it came, “ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?! Y/N!! YOU'RE FUCKING JOKING.”

You shook your head, “No, I'm not.” The calmness and firm tone in which you answered made her sidetrack tons in her own reaction, as she sat back down in front of you and took your hands in hers.

“Honey, it isn't your obligation to do any of this. You know that, right?”

You smiled, the clear worry in Jirou's eyes warming your little heart. You had such a good friend.

“I do. But I want to do this. For him.” You were sincere, and you knew Jirou could see it in your eyes too.

“Even though you don’t like each other??”

“Even though we don’t like each other.”

You repeated, but your tone was decisive. Jirou looked at you silently for a moment, then sighed and nodded.

“Okay… Whatever you choose, I'm here for and with you.” Your arms immediately surrounded her neck in a hug. She returned it gladly, patting your back in reassurance. “And if he hurts you, just tell me. I'll make him pay.”

You laughed amusingly. “I know you will. But this isn't the only thing I'm here for.”

She groaned, “There's more?! I don't know how much my heart can take...”

“Well, will it survive if I ask you to be my witness tomorrow?”

Jirou's eyes filled with tears before it was her turn to surround your neck in a tight hug.

“I'll take that as a yes,” you both giggled, hugging each other tight.

Twenty minutes later you were both leaving the building of the company and you walked her towards the motorcycle parking lot where she had hers.

“I'll text you the location in the morning.”

“Alright, I can't wait for it!” She said excitedly, but then, she looked more intently at you. “I just want to say, this thing you're doing is beyond heroic. You're literally being a Hero right now.”

Her words touched something inside you that made you want to cry like a baby. Something so deep it made you feel like floating away with the harsh galloping your heart made against your chest. It didn't make sense, yet it actually did.

You gulped looking down at your feet, strongly holding back the cry that threatened to be released right in your throat.

“You need a ride back home?” She asked, completely ignoring –for your sake and out of respect– your glassy eyes.

“I'll take her home,” Bakugou's voice in the distance surprised both of you, yet you had been expecting something like this to happen. Something told you he would be waiting you after his shift.

Jirou looked at you waiting for your approval, and when you nodded, she put on her helmet and turned on her bike. You walked towards where Bakugou was standing with Jirou riding next to you, and when she was next to him, she said, “You better take care of my friend, or I'll come for your ass, don't care you're my friend too.”

Bakugou snorted, “I know you will, Ears.” He smiled, pulling down her face shield to annoy her. She punched him friendly on the shoulder before waving and driving away.

“She said yes then.”

You both began walking towards what you thought he had parked his car. “Yep. What did Izuku say?”

He rolled his eyes, “You know he said yes.”

You smiled, “I know, I was just being friendly and asked.”

“Smart-ass.”

“I am really going to punch you again, don't tempt me.”

“Yeah… If that one punch could be considered a punch, it would be ‘again’.”

“Oh, so you do want me to…”

You tried to reach his shoulder, but this time he was fast enough to dodge it expertly. “You really are slow, huh?” He mocked walking backwards and smirking.

“You want slow, asshole…”

He laughed, turning around and running away as you ran towards him trying to catch him.

He was a stupidly fast idiot.

So now, it is Friday, and you sit right next to Bakugou Katsuki. Both of you are in front of a judge who is officially marrying you. Jirou sits on your left, while Izuku sits on Bakugou's right. And you have just finished writing your signature where the bride's one goes. Bakugou has already signed his. It isn't until you put the pen down on the table that Bakugou stops bouncing his leg and breathes in deep.

You want to laugh, finding his nerves quite funny. But you get it. This means more than just marriage to him.

It's freedom.

And you can't even imagine how nerve-racking that must feel for him. After all these years that he had to follow his mother's command and will just so he could follow his own dream, now he would be free.

That in itself brings you such a happy feeling for him.

If anyone would have ever told you that you would be doing this for none other than Bakugou-annoying ass-Katsuki, you would have sent them to a psychiatrist. Immediately.

Fate is a strange thing.

After the turn for the witnesses to sign, the judge says boringly, “By the authority vested in me by the government of Tokyo, I pronounce you husband and wife.”

He doesn't even wait nor expect the newlyweds to kiss or exchange rings as he closes the book and gives Bakugou the previous enrollment you both signed.

And that is it. You are officially married to Bakugou Katsuki.

“Who are you with on today's shift? What time are you out?”

His questions make you come back to reality after a quiet drive toward the company in his car, which you spend looking at the golden ring that now adorns your left hand. When you look up, the shining of the golden ring on his left hand catches your attention as he circles the steering wheel so the car turns on a corner, the company appearing in your view in the distance.

“Umm, I'm with Izuku. If everything goes well, at 3 a.m.”

“Okay. I’ll come pick you up.”

“Bakugou, it’s okay, I can walk home,” you insist for the nth time.

“Bullshit–”

“–Besides, you have morning patrol tomorrow,” you continue, completely ignoring his dirty mouth, “You can’t interrupt your sleep like this every time I have this shift. You need to be awake for your job.”

He grunts, muttering something that you can’t quite decipher what he said. You roll your eyes, thinking he acts like a petulant child sometimes.

A moment later, Bakugou enters the parking lot with his car, to which you look confused at him. Why is he entering the company on his day off?

He answers even before you can articulate your words, “I need to pick up some unfinished reports I have to turn in tomorrow.”

You pull up an eyebrow, untying the seatbelt and getting out of his car once he finally parks, “Wow. Dynamight is lacking on his paperwork?”

“Shut up, short-legs.”

You snort at his lighthearted insult as you walk together inside the company. But right when you both cross the big doors, Bakugou stops and looks at you. You frown confused, he then motions down with his head and you see his hand open, waiting. Oh, right.

Item n°2: Act like we are in a real relationship. The lawyers for the companies always investigate deeper into each hero, so that their status and validation of mental sanity are correlated.

You put your hand over his, both closing on each other, its warmth making those damn tingles run up your arm. But neither of you says anything as you walk through the lobby of the company holding hands.

Everyone who looks opens their eyes wide, one of the receptionists even spills her coffee drink out of shock. You hold yourself from laughing. Another of the receptionists looks you up and down, a clear disgusted expression on her face. Ops. Well, it’s not like you liked her either.

However, both you and Bakugou walk with your heads held high. You know how shocking and out of character the image of you both holding hands like a couple looks. And fast, everything happened so fast. You can already hear the gossip about whatever this is that you might have with Bakugou is way too fast. But you haven’t done everything you did for them. It is for him. As surprising as that sounds, even for you.

He walks with you towards the clock where you have to mark your entrance, never dropping your hand as you do. Then, you walk together to the elevator waiting for it to arrive. As you wait and look down at your shoes, you feel before you actually see his other hand moving, fingers brushing against your ear when he tugs a strand of your hair that had been over your face. Surprised, you look up at him but still smile in thanks.

Bakugou retracts his hand quickly and puts it inside the pocket of his jacket, looking back at the elevator. You would tease him for the little blush his cheeks are showing, but you decide it’s not the moment, considering how all eyes are on you two.

When it arrives and you get in, standing very close to each other while watching how everyone tries to peep inside to see if you’re still holding hands or if anything else happens between you two, you both jolt a bit when a wild and hurried Izuku suddenly enters the elevator, jacket half off and hair disheveled. He also looks in surprise at you two, eyes traveling down at your connected hands. A shit-eating grin appears on his face as the doors of the elevator close.

“Shut up.”

Bakugou and you speak at the same time.

Izuku snorts, hands in the air in a sign of surrender. “Wasn’t going to say anything…”

“I sense a ‘but’...” You roll your eyes, and Bakugou hums in agreement.

The greenette smiles wider, “But I understand now why everyone was looking like they saw All Might in person.”

Bakugou insults him, just because he always wants to have the final say, making Izuku laugh out loud amused. You decide to ignore both of them until the elevator arrives at your floor.

“Don’t blow up the elevator,” you warn them both after Izuku answers back at Bakugou, just to spite him. Your hand gives Bakugou one last squeeze in goodbye before walking out, “I’m with you today, Izuku.”

“Oh, cool! I’ll get connected in a bit.” You nod in his direction and look at Bakugou one last time, smiling and waving.

The doors close and you don’t get to see him smile back at you.

The shift, as always with Pro Hero Deku, is not calm or chill. It’s hectic and dangerous, and it keeps demanding all your focus and senses on alert.

“You know, sometimes I believe you have a magnet for trouble stuck up in your ass…” you hear Izuku spill the drink he must have been probably about to swallow. You chuckle devilishly. Wow, two times in a day you make someone spill their drink, that must be a record.

“Damn. Not twenty-four hours of being married to him, and you are already influenced.”

“Oh, shut it,” you both laugh amicably.

Again, the pip-ing of alert sounds in your computer. You sigh, “Deku, another threat five streets down where you’re at now.”

“On my way!”

“See? A magnet in your ass…” Izuku laughs.

You both don’t get to chat about another thing that is not your job again for the rest of the shift.

At exactly 3:10 a.m. you let out a tired sigh, stretching your arms above you and moving your body from side to side as gentle cracks sound from your backbone. After Deku pushes a villain inside a police car and looks at it drive away for a moment, his yawn that you hear through the earbuds passed on to you as you involuntarily copy the action.

“That was the last one. I’m going back,” you agree with him as you press the option on the system that notifies everyone on the shift that your hero is coming back to headquarters.

“Done.”

“Thanks, Y/N, great work today!”

“You did it all, buddy.”

“Oh, no! None of us heroes could do it without you. All of you, really.”

You frown, a bit surprised. I mean, Izuku is always polite and thanks you after every shift, but today feels different. Like he is purposely saying that, as if he knew someone important was listening to their connection.

“You are… welcome?” You actually don’t know what to say. He simply chuckles.

By orders from your area, you can't leave until Deku’s entered the company back again, so you use that time to finish gathering your things and closing the system.

“I'm back. Wait for me, Y/N. I'll take you home,” not longer than five minutes later Izuku says through the earbuds.

“Oh. You don't have–”

“Kacchan asked me to.”

His words shut you up. But he doesn't wait for your answer as he finally disconnects the communication.

And you're left there, frozen for a moment, assimilating his words. Bakugou asked Izuku to take you home. He asked his best friend to take care of you, even when he knew Izuku would do it or offer on his own. Izuku always rode you home when you had night shifts together. Bakugou surely knows that. Then, why even mention it to his friend? Why personally ask Izuku to help you? Because… Bakugou didn't enter the company only for his unfinished paperwork. He did it to talk to Izuku. Was this… Bakugou taking care of you because you were married? Or because he wanted to?

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thebeast-dennis-etcetera · 3 months ago

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Interference Part 2

Prompt: You run to your FBI neighbor when you and your boyfriend get into a fight.

Part 1

You shut your laptop with a frustrated sigh and crossed out the last address you had written down on your pad of paper. The last two days you had been searching for a place to rent, only to be turned down due to your bad credit or limited income. You didn’t have the privilege of asking your family for help, most of them had shunned you once you got into your relationship and the few that did still speak with you were in no position to lend you money.

Your phone rang again for the 3rd time in 30 minutes, a blocked number popping up on the screen. You had ignored it the last 2 times for the fear that it was your boyfriend, but he should still be in jail with no chance of making phone calls, right?

Deciding it wouldn’t really hurt to answer it, you slid the call open and instantly regretted it once the familiar devious voice spoke to you.

“Hello bird,” he greeted with fake sincerity, using the pet name he made for you as a jab at your eating habits. The fear shot through you just as hard as the other night, rendering you speechless.

“I’m out baby. I’ll be home soon and we can sit down and talk about everything. Hopefully you were able to get the house cleaned, it was a mess the last time I was there.”

He didn’t get a chance to say anything more before you ended the call. Anxiety and fear began creeping into your body, making you scramble to grab a luggage bag from the closet before shoving some clothes, toiletries, and your laptop in it. Running into the living room, you peeked out of the curtains, hoping to see Aaron’s car in the driveway. No such luck.

So grabbing your keys, you left the house, not even bothering to lock it and threw your luggage into the backseat of your car. You tore out of the driveway and down the street like a bat out hell, unsure exactly how far away your boyfriend was. As reckless as driving 50 in a residential was, you took your chances of being pulled over and put as much distance between you and that house before dialing Aaron’s number at a red light.

“Hotchner,” he answered professionally from the other line.

“Aaron. He got out. I don’t know how, maybe his mom paid his bail. He called me and said he was on his way to me.” Your words were fast and frantic. You would've continued rambling had Aaron not stopped you.

"Y/N. Just take a deep breath for me, alright?"

The light turned green and you did as he instructed, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, it doing very little to calm your frazzled nerves but appreciated it regardless.

"Now do you have anywhere you can go, maybe a friends house or family member? Somewhere you'd be safe?"

"No," you spoke. "I don't have any friends and most of my family disowned me when I got into this stupid relationship. The rest of them live on the West Coast."

There was a pause of silence as you felt him thinking over the phone. Most likely figuring out the easiest way to get rid of you and your problems.

"Alright. I have some down time before my meeting in an hour. Why don't you come by and we can figure out a plan. I'll send you the address, just take the elevator to the 4th floor."

A second later you felt the buzz of your phone from the incoming text message. "Ok. Thank you so much Aaron. And I'm so sorry for taking up your time." Tears threatened to fall but you held them back.

"Don't be sorry, Y/N. I want to help you. Don't worry, we'll get this all sorted out. Just text me when you arrive."

"I will," you replied before you both said goodbye and hung up. You put the address in your navigation and drove mindlessly through traffic, so many thoughts going through your head it made you want to scream.

The address wasn't too far from your own homes, arriving there in less than an hour and heading into the very drab looking building before taking the elevator, texting Aaron that you had arrived on the way up.

You had just made it to the front desk before seeing Aaron headed in your direction, giving the receptionist a small smile. "She's with me Lonnette, thank you."

You waited as Lonnette printed your visitor badge and handed it over with a friendly smile before following Aaron through the floor, passing by glass offices and cubicles. You were quiet, not really in the mood for small talk which you felt he sensed and didn't bother saying anything as he lead you up some stairs to an office that you presumed was his by the gold name plaque on his desk.

"Have a seat, please," he offered politely, closing the door and walking over to his side of the desk. "Would you like something to drink? Water? Coffee?"

You shook your head. "No thank you. I appreciate the offer though."

He unbuttoned his suit jacket and sat down, moving some files to the side. "So I'm genuinely surprised to hear that he's out of jail. You said you think his mother bailed him out?"

"Yeah. I don't think she knows anything about what happened but whenever he asks her for money, she just sends it to him. I think she feels guilty for never being in his life so giving him money when he needs it helps her feel better about it." You rung your hands together, anxious about the whole situation as well as being there, talking with a man that was pretty much a complete stranger, bugging him for help.

"And he called you afterwards, telling you that he was on his way? Did he seem upset?" His tone was curious as if trying to get every piece of puzzle to fit perfectly in order to build an accurate idea of who your boyfriend was. It made sense considering his profession.

"I don't know. He's really good at hiding his anger until he snaps. He was talking like nothing had happened and we were just going to go back to normal." Your head whipped towards the open window blinds where someone was just walking by, Aaron noticing your jumpy behavior immediately.

"You're safe here. No one knows anything about what happened except you and I," he reassured you, making you relax just a little. "I don't think he'll be out of jail for long though, at least until he sees the judge for arraignment. I will personally see to that."

His words brought you a bit of placidity and hope as you still wondered why he would go through such lengths to help you out.

"I do have a small flat not far from here that I use occasionally for late nights at the office when I don't want to drive all the way home. You can stay there for now, until you find a place of your own if you'd like. Completely up to you, I don't want you to feel pressured."

Your eyes looked up from the floor to meet his, surprised by his offer.

"I- uh. I couldn't impose on you like that-

"You wouldn't be. I barely use it anymore, I prefer to be at my home with my son whenever I can."

Son? He has a son. Of course he does. He probably also has a wife or at least a girlfriend since you didn't see a ring on his finger. The thought of him with a son didn't bother you, in fact it only gave you more of a reason to trust him.

"If you're sure you don't mind," you said, trying not to sound too excited, relieved that you wouldn't have to go back to your boyfriends house. "Please let me pay some sort of rent or something though. It's the least I can do."

He shook his head no, his expression soft and nonchalant. "Don't worry about it. You're gonna need the money for your new place. Just promise me that you won't contact him or go back to that house unless you have some sort of escort, preferably by law enforcement."

You could be my escort.

You nodded in agreement, ignoring your thoughts.

“Alright then. I can send you the address and give you the keys now. I'm not sure if the fridge is stocked but feel free to add or throw anything away. There is a washer and dryer there so you can wash the sheets and anything else you need." He pulled his keys from his desk drawer and removed a ring with a single key on it, holding it out for you.

You took it gratefully and stood with him as he buttoned his suit back up and checked his watch.

"Could I at least make you dinner or something?" you blurted, not sure where such confidence came from. "I mean, I just want to do something for you in return for your incredible generosity." You couldn't stop the blush from burning your cheeks, your words successfully embarrassing yourself.

A small smile played at the corner of his mouth, showing off just the slightest sight of dimples. "I'll be with my son tonight but maybe we could grab a coffee sometime tomorrow."

You smiled back, more than satisfied with his offer and followed him out of his office, feeling a few stares from people but avoided eye contact. Aaron walked you back to the receptionist and even had her add you as a contact so visiting would be an easier feat.

"Thank you again Aaron," you spoke, the anxiety you had been feeling for the last few hours, finally beginning to dissipate. He answered with a friendly nod and you entered the elevators. Once the doors closed and you were completely alone, you took in a deep breath. Maybe everything was going to be ok like he said.

#aaron hotchner x y/n #ssa aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfiction #hotch x reader #bau team #thomas gibson

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farfromstrange · 1 month ago

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Pink Eye | Matt Murdock x Reader

Matt Murdock Masterlist

Summary: You start the new year with a bad case of conjunctivitis and a cold. As annoyed as you are about it, fortunately for you, you have a very doting boyfriend to take care of you.

Warnings: Cursing, sickness, fluff.

WC: 1.2k

A/n: This is totally self-indulgent, and my first fic after a month (or so)! Don't worry, you're still getting those other Fictober prompts, this is just something that came to my mind yesterday and I had to write it. I wish I had a Matt Murdock to take care of me, so I wrote this. I hope I'm not too rusty.

Read Me On AO3!

The cold compress seeps into the swollen skin of your eyelids, though it offers only a small reprieve from the ache and itchiness that make you want to claw your eyes out like a feral cat under attack.

Tissues lay strewn around the coffee table, each one soaked in tears and whatever else came out when you wiped them dry. The apartment reminds you more of the set of a bad chick-flick rather than a home. Most of the time it resembles a crime scene or a poorly supplied hospital when your risk-friendly boyfriend decides he just has to get himself into another fight for the greater good, but this New Year’s, the only casualty that came out of the holidays is you—defeated by your own immune system.

You haven’t been properly sick in a year. For 366 days, you’ve been free of any viral or bacterial infections, and the one time you decide to have dinner with your family you end up with a nasty infection: conjunctivitis. Yes, you started the new year with fucking pink eye and a cold, and now you’re stuck at home for your last few days off work, feeling miserably sorry for yourself.

“Here,” Matt appears in your one functioning line of sight with a bowl of soup in hand, “You need to eat something.”

“Thank you,” you say through a congested nose, and he can’t help but smile at how adorable that sounds.

“How’re you feeling?”

“Like I want to put a finger into my eye and scratch it out.”

He raises his eyebrows. “So, not good?”

You shake your head. “I’m annoyed. And in pain. And I can’t fucking breathe!” As if to underline your frustration, your lungs constrict and you cough up a not-so-delicious ball of phlegm.

Matt’s hand instantly moves to your back, rubbing gentle circles until the oxygen returns to where it needs to be. Your breathing becomes rapid before it slows down again, and you swallow.

“Fuck me,” you mumble.

“When you’re feeling better,” he retorts almost cheekily, but the joke doesn’t get much of a response. He knows how miserable you are. He can hear it in the way you breathe, your elevated heartbeat, and the pulsing of the skin around the infected eye. You wear your discomfort on your very sleeves. He doesn’t want to imagine what it feels like for you.

Instead of joking any more, Matt gently removes the compress from your eye. “Let me get you a new one,” he offers. Your first instinct is to cover up. It baffles him; you haven’t hidden from him in a very long time.

Matt takes your hand and places it back down in your lap, a worried frown creasing his forehead. “Don’t do that.”

“I look like I got into a fight,” you say.

At that, he reaches out, fingers gently brushing just above your brow, down your temple, and over the apple of your cheek. He can feel the heat radiating from your skin, the inflammation that’s causing your eye to swell, but the picture his fingertips paint is a stark contrast to your own description.

“No, you don’t,” he says. And Matt knows better than anyone what one might look like after a fight.

His touch is so gentle, far away from where you’re hurting but close enough to feel his need to fix you. To heal you. To take your pain away and make it his own just so you wouldn’t have to suffer anymore. Your heart flutters like a newborn butterfly. You look into his hazel eyes, how soft they are, and it makes you melt. If you could only see yourself the way he sees you... The way he loves you seems like a gift from God himself.

His touch disappears, and you bite back a pathetic whimper. “Be right back,” he says.

You watch as he rises to his feet and heads back to the kitchen, grabbing another cool compress from the fridge before returning to your side.

“There you go.” He places it against your eye and holds it there. “So you can eat.”

You want to say, ‘You’re doing too much’, but then you realize that you’re with the kind of man who would shoulder the world for you even when he’s already drowning to make sure life is just a little easier for you. And while that feels like entirely too much, more than you deserve, you can’t find it in yourself to tell him to stop. Not that he would do so, anyway.

Every bone in your body aches, but the pain blurs in comparison to what he makes you feel.

You take the bowl of soup he prepared and dig in. It’s your favorite, yet scarcely seasoned to not irritate your throat any further. When your stomach is finally full and he’s satisfied, he reaches for the bottle of eyedrops standing tall amongst the graveyard of tissues. He knows to think about everything when you can’t.

“Lean back,” he instructs softly.

“I don’t want you to get sick,” you protest.

“I won’t. I know you hate doing this yourself. Now lean back.”

He’s even more stubborn when you’re sick, but only because you’re stubborn, too. You don’t protest further, simply leaning your head back to give him better access.

Matt gently searches for your lower lid with his fingers, pulling it back ever so gently before squeezing the first drop in. Then, he moves on to the second eye. Your eyes instinctively squeeze shut at the sudden intrusion. It burns. Will it ever stop, you wonder?

“I’m sorry,” he wipes away any excess tears threatening to escape, “it’ll get better in a second.”

You huff a breath of disapproval, but not at his words. “I’m never visiting my family again unless they give me a detailed list of who’s sick,” you say.

Matt stutters for a moment, then bursts out laughing.

“I’m serious! Small children are little Petri dishes, carrying viruses and bacteria that continue to mutate into God knows what. Petri dishes, Matthew!”

You sound so beside yourself, he can’t help himself. He adds the used tissue to the coffee table pile and pulls you into his arms, his laugh rumbling against the top of your head as he presses his lips against your heated scalp. “This is New York, sweetheart,” he says, “the entire city is a Petri dish.”

“And I will avoid it like the plague if I have to.”

He chuckles. “Okay.” A pause, and then, “You’re so much moodier when you’re sick.”

If you had the strength you would smack his pretty face for that statement alone, but you really, really don’t. You can barely sit up on your own. So, you nudge him with your elbow and grumble, “Shut up.”

With a bright smile on his face, he gives you another squeeze. “I love you too,” he says.

You squeeze his bicep three times to assure him that yes, you do love him, and you can’t help but think that perhaps being coddled in Matt Murdock’s arms while recovering from a little infection isn’t so bad, after all. It certainly could be worse.

fluff tag list: @gpenguin666 @linamarr @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @thatonegamefish @amberritonicole @pigeonmama @bohemianrhapsody86 @a-gir1-has-n0-name @winkev1 @callsign-ember @chittaphonstar @buckyyyismahhlife @trublu2u @xnatyx @zomtart @ethereal-blaze @littleagxs @ravenclaw617 @lucienofthelakes @steve-chandler @mochie-is-a-librarian

#matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock x gender neutral reader #daredevil x reader #sick fic #charlie cox

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sweetimpurity · 7 months ago

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I Think I'll Keep You 4

a/n: Thank you for your patience! More to come for this story, it's only the beginning! Finally got my new computer which will make writing much easier and more fun!! Love ya!

w.c.: 8.3k NSFW MINORS DNI rated p for plot

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

His eyes widen and he has to fight back more tears right then and there. You’re taking him to the hospital after all he’s done? After all he said? “Oh…” He mumbles, standing there ready to follow your lead. He’d follow you anywhere at this point. “I couldn’t sleep so… and I assume you couldn’t either.” You comment softly. The exhaustion written on both your faces. With midterms and classes, bad sleep and the emotional tug of war this week, you’re both due for a nap. But his hand needs to be taken care of first. He can’t keep walking around in pain like that.

“Does it hurt?” You ask as the two of you start walking down the hall. “No… it’s not that bad.” He mumbles, pulling his hoodie on and clenching his hand painfully in the pocket. “Don’t lie.” You say. Something you feel like you keep saying. Why is it so hard for him to just be honest? Even with himself. “It… it does hurt. A lot.” He finally says in a sigh, both getting to the elevator and going down in silence to get to the lobby. He’s looking down at the floor. Exhaustion etched on his face like yours. But you keep an eye on him. Observing his body language. All the things he’s not saying with words. He seems sorry. He seems heartbroken like you. But it’s hard to trust him after everything.

The two of you get to the lobby, hearing the rain pouring on the windows. The white noise of the rain would be soothing if it didn’t mean you had to walk out in that storm. “My car’s on the street.” You pull up your hood, keys jingling in your pocket. He just looks up at your face, nodding softly. He just wants to hear that you forgive him. That you don’t hate him.

You both head out, quickly marching down the walkway to your car. Each shielding yourself from the assault of pouring rain as you rush to the car already running. Finding warmth and safety inside away from the rain. As soon as you can see through the splatters on the windshield, you’re driving off, through the city streets to get to the emergency room. There’s no one on the roads this time of night. And you’re hoping there won’t be tons of people in the emergency room once you get there.

“Hey so um…” He starts, after a bit of silence, driving through the city streets. “I… I’m-”

��Let’s just get there, okay? Let’s just go and get there and…” You sigh, the words falling off. Not wanting to cut him off but also not wanting right now to be when you both have this conversation. He swallows thickly, nodding and falling back into the quiet of the warm car. Clenching his fingers in his pocket and bouncing his knee gently in anxiety. You notice it out of the corner of your eye. You seem to notice everything about him.

…

“...his hand, he’s been having swelling and bruising for a few days now…” You explain kindly to the receptionist once you’re both in the waiting room, standing at the front desk. Miguel standing a bit like a lost puppy behind you, listening to you talk to the receptionist there. “Alright, the doctor can take a look once she’s done with another patient. If you can just fill out these forms and have a seat, it should be about 30 minutes.” She smiles and hands you a clipboard and a pen. “Thank you. And could he please get some ice or something?” You smile and ask. The woman nods politely and going to grab an ice pack from the other room. You both start walking over to the waiting room area, looking over the form in your hands. Taking a seat by the fish tank and settling in to wait a little while. Miguel sits right beside you, running the good hand through his dampened hair from the rain. He glances down at the form in your lap. Then up at the side of your face. Wanting to reach out and touch your skin. Kiss your cheek. Remembering what it feels like to melt into your arms. Thinking of all the ways he can beg for, earn your forgiveness. Just as he’s about to speak- “Here you go…” The receptionist is there, an ice pack outstretched for him to take, breaking him out of his thoughts. He forces a smile, taking the ice pack and setting it over his hand. “Thank you.” He smiles gently. Watching the woman walk away.

He looks back, watching you write down his name on the form. Thinking he can probably do this himself. Before he can interrupt you’re asking him for the information.

“Birthday?” You ask, ready to fill it in. “You don’t have to do that…” He mumbles softly, reaching his left hand over to you. “You can write with that hand?” You ask him skeptically, raising your brow. It’s his right hand that’s out of commission. “We need this to be legible, I’ll just do it.” You wave him off and he sighs in sleepy defeat. Although he’s too tired to even care at this point. He’s more grateful that you’re even here right now, that he’s even here right now. That you’re helping him like this, let alone talking to him.

“October 13, 2001.” He sighs, watching your neat handwriting fill in the little lines. “That just passed…” You mutter in realization, writing the date down. “Why didn’t you tell me when it was your birthday?” You sigh, looking up and gazing straight ahead at the empty chairs across the room. “That was like… two thursdays ago…” You grumble. “Sorry…” He sighs, not knowing what else to say for it. He didn’t tell you because he didn’t think it mattered. His mind is a mess. You look over at him, seeing the look on his face. That he really is defeated. Not his usual self. “It’s fine just…” Your words trail off. The silence heavy between you two.

“You can tell me stuff like that.” You suddenly say much more confidently. Looking over at him, making him meet your eye. And he swallows hard, not knowing really what to say. “You were leaving the next day and I didn’t want to distract you…” He admits softly.

“Your birthday is not a distraction… it’s special.”

Special?

He nods, averting your gaze. Thinking to himself. There’s nothing special about him.

“Place of birth.” You ask. “Uh… New York…” He replies softly, shaking those thoughts away, adjusting the ice on his knuckles. Bearing through the ache that comes with the cold on the hot swelling. You write down the information, continuing on. He’s quiet beside you, only answering when you ask him for information. Because his mind is occupied mapping out things he needs to talk about. He wants to apologize again, for real this time and explain himself. That’s the least he can do. Even though he feels like he’s 10 years old again for some reason. Feeling like you’ll be upset with him no matter what he says. No matter what he does. And he deserves all of it.

“Emergency contact?” You ask. Distracting him from his thoughts. “Uh…” He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Like your mom or dad or something…” You encourage, ready to write down whatever he chooses. “I… don’t want them to call my dad…” He admits softly, staring at the sheet on the clipboard. “So your mom then?” You assume, readying yourself for the contact info. “No…” He mutters, shaking his head, leaning back in his seat. Looking up from the form, you look at his face. Not quite knowing how to read it right now. You know he doesn’t like to talk about his parents at all. You’ve only heard about his brother and that’s it. But you didn’t think I’d be so bad that he doesn’t even want to call them in case of an emergency.

“Okay… that’s okay we can figure out something else.” You offer softly. For some reason, instinctively, wanting to protect him right now from whatever it is he’s feeling. When it comes to his parents at least. “Yeah…” He mumbles, staring down at the ice on his hand and folding the corner of the plastic, fidgeting.

You sigh. Not really wanting to get into everything right now. Just wanting to get back to your dorm and sleep. He needs sleep too. This week has been hell. So many weighted moments pass between the two of you. Silently sitting and listening to the bubbles in the fish tank constantly going. The bubbles disturbing the still waters surface and yet infusing the water with all the oxygen the life within needs. Disturbance pumping life into the already living. The living need disturbance to know they’re alive.

He hears the sound of the pen scribbling on the clipboard. Tired eyes looking over to your lap. The emergency contact. A lump in his throat watching you fill in your name, your address, your phone number. All for him. All of this for him? How could he even begin to deserve it? He feels a huge rush of relief and watches the pen tip move across the paper. Until it gets to “Relationship:”

“The doctor can see you now.” The receptionist suddenly says, bringing you both out of silence. Grabbing the clipboard, your keys, phone, standing up and ready to get this done and get out of here. Although there’s a part of Miguel that feels this is a last goodbye. Like things will never be the same after tonight. Maybe that’s a good thing.

…

“Alright, so the fractures are here… here… and then a smaller one there. And we’re going to go ahead with the plaster cast so we can make sure everything lines up nicely.” The doctor says, pointing and gesturing to the x-ray on the wall. It’s been about half an hour now of x-rays and examinations. He has two broken fingers and part of his wrist is compromised too.

“We’ll see how you do with the cast and have you come back in a couple weeks. There should be no reason for surgery if all goes well.” She says. Nodding to the two of you and grabbing some paperwork from the drawers in the room.

“Will he have any sort of pain relief while this is going on?” You ask, concern on your face. Miguel can see it. It makes his chest hurt. You’re such an angel and he’s such a dick.

“Yes, I’ll put in the prescription for painkillers and some antibiotics and you can pick it up tonight… I can send it to the 24 hour pharmacy pretty close to your campus if that works?… I recommend starting it as soon as you can and it will really help with the swelling.” She nods and writes down a slip for his prescription. “Thank you.” You smile and take the slip, Miguel soon following with his own quiet ‘thank you’.

“I’ll be right back and then we can get this cast on, okay?” The doctor clicks her pen, taking her computer and leaving the room to go get the supplies to make up Miguel’s cast.

If it were darker in this room, you’d be falling asleep. But the fluorescent lights blind you. Sitting in the chair next to the exam table, unable to resist resting your head on the table Miguel’s sitting on. Looking down at the almost finished document on the clipboard. Deciding what to write. It’s stupid, it shouldn't matter that much. It doesn’t matter so much if it’s just for his emergency contact; just that the information is in there. Girlfriend? No. Partner? Probably not. Where do you stand? More importantly… Where do you want to stand with him? It’s not just his decision at the end of the day and you’re trying to stop letting him call most of the shots. What do you want to be? Do you want to be his girlfriend? Do you actually want that? Or has his behavior over the past month and a half shown you that he can’t be a good partner even if he wanted to? It’s late; you’re tired; why must you make this decision right now when everything is still so fucked up? Closing your eyes, laying your head on the edge of the table, you’re playing a dangerous game. Will you be able to open them again once you pass the threshold?

“I’m sorry.” He says. Coaxing your eyes back open, looking over at him.

“Miguel-”

“Please… I need to say something…” He insists softly. Not looking at you, staring at the floor, trying to keep that list in his head. “... a lot of things…”

He sighs, rubbing his good hand down the fabric of his sweatpants, nervously. Like all the sentences he’s thinking are the most idiotic combinations of words strung together. You watch him a bit wide eyed, just waiting for the words to come out.

“I’m sorry for the way I acted. What I said. It was the wrong way to go about this… everything.” He sighs. Trying his best to be honest and hoping you won’t throw it back in his face. Why is that always his first thought?

“I was a jerk. And then when I tried to… apologize I just… was an even bigger jerk.”

He admits. Glancing over at you to see your reaction. Feeling an odd sense of ease at the soft expression on your face. You’re really listening.

“I was not drunk on Sunday. I promise you. I went to a stupid party and… had a few beers but nothing… major.” He explains. Checking off the boxes in his head. All the things that went wrong, all the things he needs to apologize for. You look down and back at him. Feeling both satisfaction from his explanation and regret over this entire situation.

“And Dana… she’s… always hanging around me and… but I didn’t do anything with her on Sunday. I tell her no and she's still just all over me and... I’m not sleeping with her, I’m not sleeping with anyone. It was just you.” He says, looking in your eyes. And you believe it’s true. That’s the thing you regret. Jumping to conclusions the moment you smelled Dana’s perfume on him. That probably wasn’t right to do and there was no reason for it. But his response to it all was still uncalled for.

“I don’t want you to hate me. Please… I don’t think I can take it. But I know I deserve it.” He whispers. Looking away, staring at the linoleum floor.

“Can I tell you something… personal?” He suddenly asks. His eyes locked on the checkered pattern on the floor.

“Of course…” You hum, giving him your full attention. This is a big deal. Getting him to share this much. Connecting with him like this after feeling so far away. He swallows hard. Thinking hard. Why must this all be so hard for him?

“I’ve never really been in a relationship before.” He admits softly. You’re shocked to say the least. He’s always been the player type and had girls all around him. But never a relationship? Not even in high school? Seems impossible for someone like him. “Hm…” You hum. Mostly to let him know you’re actively listening. And not judging.

“My parents um…” He starts, fidgeting anxiously. “Ever since I was little… like since I was born… my parents always… cheated on each other?” He admits. You’re stunned into silence and he keeps going…

“It wasn’t like… an open marriage or anything…” Your face softens in sadness hearing his admission. Your heart snapping in two. “Now that I’m older I know the language but… as a kid I never understood.” He explains. A thoughtful look on his face like he’s thought all of these things a million times but never uttered a single word about it out loud.

The correlation between the two admissions is becoming more clear. Never having a relationship because the one relationship he’s supposed to look up to, his parents, is filled with betrayal and distrust. “I’m not saying… that that’s an excuse I’m just… I-I don’t know…” He sighs, shaking his head.

You just listen and watch him in silence. Feeling three things. Honored that he would share this with you. Responsibility to keep this information guarded. And heartbreak, thinking about that kind of pain, and that he feels the need to explain all of this.

“You ever think about like… getting too comfortable and then… when everything goes to shit… that’s your own fault right?” He asks more directly now, looking over at you. Maybe he does want an answer. “Like when you tell yourself that someone really cares about you… and then turns out they don’t. Not as much as you think?”

“No. I don’t think that’s your fault.” You finally speak now that he wants an answer. Genuinely. He looks in your eyes. You want to hear more. It’s the most he’s ever opened up to let you in his head.

“I can’t let myself feel that way.” He sighs. Looking up at the ceiling and letting out a deep breath. You know this is really hard for him.

“You think I make you… feel like you can’t be comfortable?” You ask softly, trying to clarify, trying to understand him.

“No you… make me feel… very… comfortable.” He admits in a sigh. Like the words keep getting stopped but he pushes through, forcing them out. The words would be impossible if not for his efforts.

You pause, thinking about what he said. Remembering when he said you made him feel steady. That moment meaning so much more now. You make him feel comfortable but he can’t allow himself to feel comfortable?

“And when you started… trying to tell me how you were feeling…” He sighs. “I just panicked and…” His words trail off, you take a deep breath. Remembering Sunday night, asking him about Dana, about the beer, on the cusp of telling him you were falling for him. That confusion and anger. Remembering what he said about messy feelings, about not ruining what you two had. When he said you weren’t supposed to happen. It all makes a lot more sense now. "I don't know what I'm feeling... I don't think I ever really know."

“I think that’s why I usually only… spend one night with someone and then… it’s over. I’m an asshole, I know… I wasn’t thinking of you that first night. At least not at the start.” He admits. Which makes sense. He feels guilty knowing he’s never been fair to his partners or himself. Plowing through any sort of feeling that might arise. But when you came along, that all became much harder. Not harder; impossible. His feelings for you were impossible to ignore. “But you’ve never left my mind since then.”

“You’re the longest I’ve ever… stuck with someone I guess. Or that you’ve stuck with me.” He says softly. Stealing glances at you, fearing your reaction just a bit. You’re shocked to say the least. A month and a half? He’s really never gotten closer to anyone else before?

Being his. That’s what you’ve thought of all this time. Because that’s how it always was. He would ask you to be his, tell you to admit it and you always said yes, you always complied. Because you wanted it to be true.

“Are you afraid that if you and I were together… that I’d cheat?” You ask, being careful around his feelings. Thinking he must be afraid to go back to those feelings brought by his parents. When they cheated on each other, they cheated him too. You want to treat his feelings with sensitivity unlike everyone else it seems.

He’s silent for a few moments. Thoughtful. “Maybe. Probably.” He admits. Which is reasonable if he’s been dealing with those kinds of trust issues since he was a little boy. “But I think I was… just scared to lose you. Like losing you is scarier than not having you at all.”

“But I couldn’t not have you. I couldn’t.” He sighs. “I was selfish and I’m sorry.”

He stares at the floor, all regret and heartbreak. So many things laid out in the open. You almost don’t know what to say. Almost.

“Miguel…” You address him, standing up and stepping around the small room for a moment. Then focusing back on him.

“I forgive you.”

He instantly looks up at you. He could cry. Relief in the purest form shot right into his soul.

“I can’t relate to your feelings with your parents and… everything. But that doesn’t mean I can’t understand. Doesn’t mean I don’t want to understand.” You say softly. He nods in understanding. His heart feeling a lightness he hasn’t felt since… ever.

“Being with you made me… feel confident and… wanted? I guess… no one’s ever made me feel that way before.” You admit. Sharing your own confessions. His eyes follow you every step around the room as you pace and speak. He’s surprised to have caused you anything but pain.

“I really liked you… even before all this started… even though I didn’t even really know you,” You sigh and chuckle softly at the thought. Knowing you fell in love with him when it felt like he wanted no one but you. And that might have been true but you were in love with the idea of him. The idea that someone like him would be in love with you.

“But I realized that the image of you that I have in my head is nowhere near who you really are. And I think you did the same for me.” You explain. He nods, knowing that’s exactly right. His first chapter with you is an unreliable memory.

“So I forgive you.” You nod. And he just looks up at you in awe. Like his heart will explode. He’s never felt this way before. Ever in his life. Is this what it feels like to be in love? To fall in love? Has he been falling all this time and now he’s completely fallen?

There’s a knock at the door. An interruption to this discussion but your words echo in his mind. And he never wants to forget them. “Okay, ready to get started? We’ll do this nice and quick and you guys can be on your way…” The doctor smiles, wheeling in a tray of materials and supplies. “Thank you” You smile and nod, moving over to make room for the doctor’s supplies; standing next to where Miguel is sitting to watch the process; mainly out of curiosity. You keep an eye on Miguel’s face. Seeing he’s still deep in thought. It’ll take more time to understand him, but tonight is a good first step.

You watch the doctor start the process, absorbing the information she’s explaining, the instructions for care and the longer term things. Follow up appointments and such. You make sure to listen because Miguel doesn’t seem like he can listen very well right now.

You watch his uninjured fingers still fidgeting with the hem of his pants. And for the second time you want to protect him. You want to make him feel… comfortable. You realize. That’s what he needs.

You reach across, taking his left hand in yours. Causing him to look up, squeezing gently as his fingers eagerly lace with yours. And it’s like all of a sudden he can feel the table under him, he can hear the doctor’s voice, he can feel the sleeve going on his arm, he can feel the pain in his hand. To get out of his head and come back into the real world around him. That’s what you’ve always done. You’re like an escape and you didn’t even know you were doing it. He didn’t even realize. Imagine how things could be if he just opened up. If he wasn’t afraid of how you’d react. If you’d put him down, chastise him for his feelings. Like he alway has been all his life.

“Miguel?” You hum, to get his attention after the doctor's attempts. The noise of his thoughts muting at the sound of your voice. “Hm?”

“What color do you want?” You ask softly, gesturing to the doctor holding out samples of the cast wrappings. Your thumb rubbing gently over the back of his knuckles. He can feel that too. “Oh uh… I don’t know.” He shakes his head slightly, feeling so overwhelmed in both good and bad ways. Overwhelmed with his feelings of love and fear. “You could get blue for the team colors…” You suggest with a soft smile, thinking of his soccer uniform, looking over the options that the doctor has laid out. Treating him with tender care, wanting to do it, no matter the things that have happened. It’s all in the past now. He smiles softly at your cute suggestion. “Yeah sure, blue is good…” He nods a slight smile at the doctor's kindness and patience. She nods and gets to work. Wrapping his cast up and letting it all set and harden. The blue material going from his fingers nearly up to his elbow.

“Alright, your 4 week appointment is all set, and you have the slip for the prescription. Come back if anything happens, or if you have any questions just call the non-emergency line.” The receptionist says. A kind smile on her face, looking up at the both of you, two kids tired out of their minds, hanging onto life and each other by a thread at this point. “Thank you very much.” Miguel nods with a smile. His injury now supported, already feeling less like it’s just hanging off his body.

You hand over the clipboard. Realizing you never decided on it. The relationship. Because it’s complicated. And you figured a blank line is better than a scribble of eraser marks.

“Have a good rest of the night… or morning I suppose.” She nods. Because yes, it is 4 a.m. at this point.

Leaving through the automatic sliding glass doors, stepping out into the very early morning. A soft glow of the imminent rising sun lighting up the sky. But it’s still very dark out. The birds haven’t even started to wake up and beckon the morning. He walks up beside you as you both head into the parking lot to get to your car. It’s still sprinkling slightly, some far away thunder rolling.

“How does it feel?” You ask, looking over and seeing the blue material on his arm peeking out from his sleeve. “Feels better than before… still hurts.” He sighs, taking a few longer strides and reaching the driver door first. Opening it for you. “Do you want me to drive?” He offers softly. “No, you only have one hand.” You quickly refuse.

“I can drive with one hand… and you’re tired.” He insists gently. “You’re tired too. And you have broken fingers.” You smirk, winning this, getting into the driver's seat. He huffs out a breath of laughter and relents, closing the door after you and walking to the passenger side.

“Take this…” You flail the prescription slip in front of him. His eyes blinking tiredly and he traps the piece of paper between his good fingers. Brow furrowing in focus and reading the information. It’s a bit blurry since he doesn’t have his contacts in. “Let’s go get that acetaprofin…” You sigh, turning the car on.

“Wait, what did I say?” You look at him, a smile tugging at your lips.

“Acetaprofin?” He asks with a smile. “You mean acetaminophen? Or ibuprofen. I think it says acetaminophen on the sheet.” He can’t help the giggles that erupt in his chest. Beyond exhausted, the both of you. “No! I said that! I said acetaminophen.” you giggle, looking over at him, watching him starting to lose it with laughter.

“Nooo you didn’t…” He teases, wiping his eyes from laughing. “You said acetaprofin which is like… some acetaminophen and ibuprofen hybrid.”

“No I didn’t. Gimme that!” You snatch the paper out of his hand and point to the drug name on the sheet. “A-ce-ta-min-o-phen.” You sound it out as he’s giggling, not even looking at the paper, he’s looking at you. “I know what it says. That’s not what you said.”

Your eyes light up watching him smile and laugh. “Maybe not.” You admit, smiling. You can’t help but laugh yourself. It’s not even that funny, you both know that. But you’re both so tired, everything is funny. “Well science boy, maybe you should do your thesis on acetaprofin…” You joke.

“Yeah, I’m sure Alchemax would love that. A thesis on combining two drugs that do pretty much the same thing…” He sighs, the both of you coming down from a laughing fit. Sitting in your running car, in the corner of the emergency room parking lot, in the middle of the city, at four in the morning.

“Hah…” He sighs. That laughter was much needed. For both of you. “Y’know… we don’t have to go get it now. We can just go back to school. I can get it myself another day.” He says. Knowing you’re both exhausted and feeling bad for keeping you awake for so long. Although he does enjoy spending time with you again. Feeling like he doesn’t have to put his shield up. It’s harder to do when you’re not having sex. When he’s just being purely himself. It’s a new feeling.

He feels a little strange. Not just because he’s running on fumes but because of what he told you. But you don’t seem to be treating him any differently. If anything, it’s just making him feel a little closer to you. He’s never felt something like that before. Like you could be… someone he confides in. The first person on his mind. That’s what’s happened for the last month and a half anyway.

“No way… we’re getting your damn acetaprofin if it’s the last damn thing I damn do.” You protest, putting the car in drive and pulling out of the parking lot. On a mission. A mission of pain relief.

“Picking up for O’Hara?” You say at the pharmacy desk, the old woman behind the register typing into the old computer to bring up the prescription. “Date of birth?” She asks, looking at the two of you over the edge of her glasses. Miguel steps forward to answer.

“08/13/2001.” You state before he can. A satisfied smile on your face for knowing his birthday now. Even if he didn’t tell you the day it was happening.

“It’s just been sent in… I’ll make it up for you.” The old woman says, her New York accent quite thick. And she moves around slowly to go make up his prescription acetaminophen and antibiotics. “Okay thank you.” Miguel smiles. The two of you having to wait some more this morning.

…

“Strawberry or Cherry?” You sigh, holding out two packs of twizzlers in front of him. The two of you migrating to the candy aisle and looking through the endless sweets. “Strawberry obviously.” He nods, pointing at the pack, keeping his cast wrapped arm close to his chest, a sign to you that the pain is in fact bothering him. “Obviously.” You nod. Totally agreeing.

“Ha. I had to give my brother the heimlich once with one of these.” You cringe and hold up a box of Lemonheads. “Oh no, really?” His eyes widen, meeting your eyes. What if that had been Gabriel?

“Yeah, and then my mom banned them from all the kids…” You giggle, putting it back on the shelf and looking at another candy item. He grins at the thought, imagining what your family must be like. After all the little things you’ve told him. Your parents and siblings. It’s like a different world he’s never stepped into before.

“This is Gabriel’s favorite…” He nods and points to a box of warhead hard candies on the shelf. “We used to have competitions” He smiles, looking at you. “Oh the ‘see who can hold it in their mouth the longest without spitting it out’ competition? I know it well…”

“Mhm.” He nods, enjoying feeling like he can be similar to you in some way. He does love Gabriel a lot and hearing the way you’ve always talked about your own family makes him feel good. Even if his own family doesn’t feel like much of a family at all.

…

“These lights are so bright.” You huff, crouching down and looking in the makeup aisle. Miguel leaning against one of the shelves and trying not to fall asleep standing up. “Which one… on my skin?” You sigh, grabbing two blush shades, standing up with whatever energy you have left. Holding them up to him. He blinks tiredly and takes the two small things from your hands, walking right up to you and holding them up to your cheeks. “What am I looking for?” He asks, holding each one on the sides of your cheeks. Your eyes closed.

“Just for… which one matches best for my undertooooones…” You drawl with eyes still closed, feeling the backs of his fingers on your cheeks. “Undertooooones…” He echos softly and teases. “Hmm…” He hums, looking back and forth and then just looking at your face. Your lashes, your lips. Feeling like he could just kiss you right now. It would be so easy to just peck your lips.

“So?” Your voice brings him out of his thoughts. “Uh I think this one… I don’t know. That one is pretty.” He sighs, ignoring the urge to kiss your lips. Knowing he probably shouldn’t. But he wants to. Your eyes flutter open, causing his heart to flutter at the sight. Your hands coming to grasp his wrists. The two products in his fingers. Looking down at the one he chose. “Yeah, I like that one.” You nod and he adds it to the small pile of candy and miscellaneous things you’ve both picked out around the store.

…

“Mm this one is good…” Miguel holds a bottle of shampoo over to you. Letting you smell it. “Coconut Milk and turmeric…” You mumble, reading the scent on the bottle before clasping your hands over his hands around the bottle and smelling. The rim of the bottle touches your nose, getting some soap on there. “Ah- yeah it smells good” You giggle, shampoo above your lip. “Oh no sorry…” He laughs, the two of you deliriously tired. His other hand comes up to wipe the soap off, rubbing over the ridge of your lip and getting it off. All while you’re both quietly giggling among the shampoo selections.

“Are we being too loud?” You giggle, whispering and looking up at him. There’s no one else in here it’s so late but still you’re both giggling endlessly in the aisles. “Probably…” He whispers, putting the shampoo back on the shelf. The two of you standing close, huddled next to the shelves and aimlessly looking around waiting for his prescription to be ready.

…

“I didn’t know they sell vibrators at the drug store…” You comment. Wandered into the aisle of sexual health and products. Staring up at the row of vibrators on the top shelf, kept in those plastic cages. Needing the employees' help to unlock it. “I guess… maybe people need it… for medical… things.” He sighs behind you. Like zombies, the two of you.

“What kind of medical things?” You raise a brow at him, turning around to face him. He takes a closer look at the boxes, lifting one toy and reading the back of it.

“Mm… neglected clit disease?” He jokes, looking up in your eyes. A smug look on his face and a smile spreading over yours. His eyes gleaming watching you laugh. “Stupid boyfriend syndrome?” He adds. “Yeah possibly…” You nod.

“Boyfriend with broken fingers disorder.” He smiles a goofy grin, holding up his cast and shrugging. His poor broken fingers. Boyfriend.

“Yeah you’re right… it’s on the rise…” You laugh softly and nod. He nods, reading the back of the box and turning to look at the other models on the shelf.

Your eyes scan over the side of his face as he turns. Wanting to reach out and run your hands through his hair like you’ve done so many times before. But it’s never been like this before. Just the two of you like this. Like friends. But there’s something extra obviously because you’ve seen each other naked more times than you can remember. But being away from him was like rehab from an addiction. An addiction to him, the feeling of him, the way he can make you feel.

You roll your eyes and smile. Turning to leave the aisle. He smiles that same grin. Watching you start walking, he looks down at the box in his hand. Piling the vibrator on the stack of items in his arm with a smirk on his face. Among the candy, makeup, shampoo and miscellaneous things you’ve both picked out, the sex toy like a cherry on top.

…

He smiles watching you huff and sit down on the floor. Right in the middle a different aisle. Paper and stationary on one side and birthday cards on the other. Tilting his head and looking down at you on the floor. Sharing your exhaustion. “How does it feel?” You ask and he walks over, sitting down in front of you, criss crossed and facing you. Setting the items down on the floor too.

“It hurts…” He admits, not feeling the need to lie about it. Not anymore. You nod and yawn. Looking over and seeing a pack of black sharpies. Leaning over to grab it.

“Can I write on it?” You smile and brighten up at the thought. “My cast?” He grins and watches you. Your excitement.

“Yeah a little message or a doodle” You pull open the pack of markers. Planning to just pay for them on the way out. “Fine, just no dicks, okay?” He teases and you feign disappointment at his request. He scoots closer to you as you hold out the sharpie for the blue material on his arm. “Hmm…” You think of what to write or draw for your masterpiece. Since he’ll have it on there for a few weeks you want to make it count.

He’s just smiling, watching your pretty face as you think of what to write, his arm draped over your lap and your fingers dancing over his upper arm to hold it in place, pen in hand.

You start shaking your head and he can tell you’ve thought of something. “What?” He grins. “No… nothing.” You smile, shaking your head. “Come on… do it. Whatever you thought of, just write it.”

“No I can’t.” You smile nervously, looking up in his eyes. “Yes you can.” He replies in the same tone. Gesturing to his cast. “Write it.”

“Close your eyes.” You demand and he does so. His eyes fluttering closed. A smile on his lips. You debate it for a second. The thing you thought of was originally sort of supposed to be a joke but it could also not be a joke at the same time. You don’t want to make things awkward or more complicated. Shaking your head, you decide to just do it. Maybe he’ll laugh. The felt tip scratches on the hardened blue material. He waits patiently with eyes closed until finally…

“Done.” You sigh, already feeling embarrassed. But it’s on there and it’s permanent. His eyes flutter open, searching the cast on his arm. Eyes scanning over the black cursive letters. Just one small word.

Mine.

His eyes lock on the word. Reading it over. Over and over then looking up at you. After all that’s happened, all he said, all that went on. You know and he does too, that you’re being very generous with your heart. As you’ve always been.

“I like it…” He hums softly, nodding and looking back down at the writing. After seeing that slight blush of embarrassment on your cheeks.

Is this all he’s ever wanted? To be yours. And for you to be the one to make it so? All the times he made you his, all the times he claimed you, took you, those times don’t compare to this one. This little word, written by your hand, from your mind, your heart. He won’t take it for granted.

“I should’ve just drawn a dick…” You shake your head and smile. The tension dissolving then. Meeting his eyes for a moment. Unable to hide the bit of embarrassment. You don’t want to repeat patterns of the past. But you also want to be honest about your feelings. “Fine, you can draw a dick.”

”Really??!”

“No!!” He laughs. “I was just kidding!”

“No, you said it so I can do it!”

“No no no, I take it back!” He refuses with a smile, shaking his head and laughing, his eyes locked on your smile. Again, he just wants to kiss you. To kiss you again after feeling like it’s been forever since he’s had the chance. “Come onnnnn…” You smile and he shakes his head, wanting to take your face into his hands and kiss your lips. It almost makes his heart sore, knowing that he really shouldn’t do it. And he’s trying to be careful. Holding so tightly onto this olive branch.

“Let’s go see if it’s ready now, yeah?” He suggests, needing to change the subject for his own sake. “Fine…” You whine, watching him rise, accepting his hand when he stretches it out to you to get up from the floor.

…

You both watch the old woman scan the items and the prescriptions. Rolling your eyes at Miguel’s smirk when she scans the vibrator, taking off the protected cage around the box. The woman having absolutely no reaction to the item. She just doesn’t care, not at this hour and probably not at any other hour either.

You look for some money to pay for the makeup and the things you picked out but before you can he puts his card in the machine, reaching his arm around your waist to press the numbers. His chest pressing to your back slightly. You watch the thick black card go into the machine. The numbers going in and the ding when it accepts easily. “Thank you, have a nice night.” The woman says, her voice low and gravelly but she’s been kind overall.

“Thank you.” Miguel nods and grabs the bag off the counter after taking his card back. “Thanks!” You smile and start walking, with him right beside you. “Where’s the receipt? I can give you some cash for my things…”

“Don’t worry about it.” He assures. Shaking his head and holding the bag of items in his good hand.

“If you say so…” You sigh, walking beside him as you both leave the drug store. “Thank you…”

The sun is just starting to light up the early morning sky now that it’s about 5 am. Birds starting to chirp. “I need to sleep.” You sigh, getting in the driver's seat. And Miguel in the passenger seat with the bag of things on his lap. “I can drive if you want…” He offers again with a yawn, stretching his back slightly, his head against the headrest. “No it’s fine, it’s only a few minutes…” You assure him, buckling up and starting the car to get back to the dorms.

You start driving, pulling out of the parking lot and turning through the city streets. There are a few cars out but nothing compared to the morning rush to start in a few hours. The city slowly starts to light up with the sun. It’s not even over the horizon yet, just lighting the sky with anticipatory sunshine. He’s stealing small glances at you as you drive. Feeling funny inside. He doesn’t know quite how to place this feeling. It doesn’t feel bad, he knows that much.

“So it says… take two of these… and one of these morning and night.” You read the prescription bottles for acetaminophen and antibiotics. Standing at the door of his dorm room, in the doorway and giving him the slip from the doctor to have. “Thank you.�� He nods softly, genuinely. Although that one thank you doesn’t even cut it. He doesn’t think so.

“I can’t believe we literally stayed up all night doing that.” He sighs, walking into his dorm. Glancing back at you and trying to be subtle, wanting to see if you’ll follow him inside. Only wanting you to do it if you want to. You follow him in, replying in similar disbelief, not noticing his glancing and watchful eye. “I know, well we had to wait so long for everything.” You huff, sitting on the edge of his bed and grabbing the bag of things when he drops it next to you.

You grab the pack of twizzlers and watch him take the prescription bottles to swallow his pills. Eyes widening in realization when he takes a pair of round framed glasses out of a case on his desk. He puts them on, reading the small print on the bottle. And you try to suppress the biggest smile. He wears glasses? How did you not figure this out? Regardless, he’s adorable.

“Do you need any help?” You ask softly. Watching him trying to maneuver the lock top with one hand, eventually trying to hold it between his knees and undo it with his good hand. “No thanks, I got it.” He looks over at you, instantly doing a double take seeing the way you’re smiling at him. Or the way you’re obviously trying not to smile. What’s got you smiling all pretty like that?

“I like your frames…” You smile and comment, his cheeks instantly reddening when he realizes that’s why you’re smiling. Looking over at you like a deer caught in headlights and the top of the bottle finally pops off, he flinches trying to keep the pills from spilling all over the floor. “Oh, thanks.” He smiles bashfully, feeling a bit embarrassed but he can’t help stealing glances at your face when you're smiling like that.

You smile softly, feeling a bit sympathetic to him having to learn a whole new way of doing things. Only a little bit though since he is the one that punched his own locker in.

“Sorry if your sleep is fucked for the rest of the week…” He clears his throat, getting some water to swallow his pills. Turning for a second and trying to stop the hot blush on his cheeks. You’re the only person who’s ever made him blush like that. Just by looking at him. You watch him from the bed, biting and pulling the strawberry licorice candy, the only thing you’ve eaten all night. “It’s fine… it needed to be done.” You nod. Not feeling resentful or upset with him. It was your choice to show up after all.

“Well thank you” he smiles over at you, situating a few things before walking over to the bed, sitting next to you on the edge and grabbing a piece of candy for himself, biting a piece off and sighing, flopping back to lay down on top of the blankets. You do the same, mirroring his action, laying down on your back and biting your candy as well. The two of you just lying in silence and exhaustion.

“So… we can be friends right?” He suddenly asks, you look over to see he’s on his side facing you. You take a moment to think. Friends is better than what’s been going on for months. You roll over too to face him, biting your licorice and thinking. “Yeah… I think so.”

He smiles softly, nodding with relief.

“Just don’t lie to me again.” You say and his expression turns serious, understanding. “Just be honest with me and I’ll do the same. Tell me how you’re feeling. I’m not the kind of person to… judge you for your feelings, y’know?” You say like it’s some casual thing. Not seeing how it’s affecting him. But he could cry if he let himself. He feels like he’s dreaming.

I should tell you how I’m feeling. I should tell you that I’m in love with you. I love you. I love the way you speak to me. The way you make me feel. I love the way you care for me. The way you think of me even when I can’t think for myself. The sound of your voice, the feeling of your hair between my fingers. The memory of your heartbeat against my chest, your fingers on my back, your breath on my neck. The look in your eyes when you’re laughing; your smile. The tone of your voice when you sigh my name. I thought I wanted you to be mine. And that might have been true. But I wanted to be yours all the more.

But he doesn’t say any of that. He just nods and smiles softly, grabbing another piece of candy and stealing small glances your way. Laying beside one another as the early morning goes by, the exhaustion overtaking the both of you in time. Soon you’re both asleep. 5 am. 6 am. 7 am and into the morning. Catching up on the lost hours. But not regretting a single moment of this night. 8 am. 9 am. 10 am. 11 am. Noon. Morning classes are long passed and forgotten. Sleeping beside one another on top of his soft blankets. Not even the daylight through the window could wake you from this slumber.

To be continued...

Reblogs and comments very much appreciated!!

Taglist (hopefully I got everyone let me know if you want to be dropped/added):

@miguels-cock-piercings @queerponcho @club-danger-zone @bossva @softcrayon

@nommingonfood @bruhhvv

@jessies-unrelagated-thoughts @mauvecherie-writes @haveclayeveryday @kimivixen

@jadeloverxd @chiikasevennn @mvlanchqly @resident-cryptid

@x0tw0d57 @vampyboys @miguelspriscilla

@francesca-the-1st @migueloharasbbm @razertail18 @laysmt

@tojiragdoll @maiyart @wazawazooo @mun-2996 @marshhbs

@curious-randomlr @safixiovi @daddyfroglegs @theplaid-wearingmoose @reader-1290

@yeanika @elysiumsangel @rinnako @mangoslushcrush @twwcs

@izakopanyi2 @migueloharasoulmate @slut4oscarissac23

@miss-loomis @genny101

@aphinthestars @webshooterrr9 @m4dyy

@jdbxws @roserfz27 @ohara-whore @oharaslove @daisy-artfield

@mooreaey6yem @peachey-pie @migueloharacumslut @pxtched

@yougavemeyourheartyouknow @julia4today

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bloodyknucklesforme · 1 month ago

Text

Pomegranate | Nikolai x F!Reader

Chapter 6

Nikolai shares you.

cw: dark fic, dubcon/noncon, reader is being trafficked, human trafficking, this is the darkest chapter so far, drugging, bad reaction to drugs, abuse, rape, choking,

Masterpost

Nik watched while you dressed, kept you between his knees while he sat on the edge of the bed. His hands rubbing up and down your thighs. He held your foot in his lap and helped you pull on your stockings.

“I have something for you.” He rested his chin between your breasts and stared up at you. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a necklace. It was a diamond tennis necklace. Too many diamonds for you to count. He reached up and clasped it around your neck. It was heavy. You drew a finger across the stones. “It’s real. Don’t worry.”

“I…I’ve never had…thank you.” You’d never had fine jewelry like this. A pair of diamond studs when you were younger, long lost, but nothing like this. You couldn’t even fathom the price of it. It was beautiful but when he lifted it up to kiss your clavicle it began to feel more like a collar than a necklace.

“Go finish getting ready. Wear that red lipstick.” He said.

“Kolya?” you asked, shifting your weight between your feet.

“Yes?”

“Are you going to make me fuck John?” His name tasted bitter in your mouth. Anytime he touched you it made your stomach bile rise up your throat.

Nik took your wrist and pressed his lips against the veins there, a fake apology. “You are going to do whatever I want you to do. He won’t hurt you.”

“It’s not about being hurt.”

“You can drink beforehand.” Your wrist fell limply at your side.

He kept his hand on your inner thigh almost the entire drive. Your head was tilted towards the window. There were even more holiday light displays than last time but it didn’t fill you with the same wonder as last time.

There was a time in your life when you wanted to be desired. You could hardly imagine it now, wanting nothing more than to lay in some brackish snow pile, letting cars splash salt and slush on top of you. Anything to be something he didn’t want. You could fight more, scream and hit. He was also a head taller with hands the size of your head. He’d kill you or worse in an instant. So you play the part of some sad wife being dragged to some dinner, easier to cope with than the reality that you were a sex slave being taken to some stranger as a present. Wearing clothes you didn’t own, next to a man you didn’t know.

“You are my good girl.” He cupped your face. His smile scared you, teeth flashing like a dog’s snarl. “Let’s have a good night tonight, yes?”

It was a large club with music that made your head pound. You were escorted towards the upstairs private rooms. He let you rest your head on his shoulder on the elevator ride up. Your feet stuttered when the doors opened. You left your stomach and all your nerves back on the ground floor. Nik tugged on your wrist.

“I can’t. I can’t. Kolya, please. I… I don’t want to.” You were panting, eyes darting around as if there was a possibility of an escape.

“Don’t cry. You’ll ruin your face.” He wiped his thumbs under your eyes, pressing a little too hard. He coaxed you out of the elevator and then pushed you up against a wall, wrists pinned by your head. “Do not embarrass me.”

“I don’t like him. Please don’t make me, Kolya. Please.” You tilted your head back and blinked away the tears. “He scares me.”

He pressed himself against you, compressing your chest painfully and growled into your ear, “I should scare you more.”

It was the end of the discussion.

The private room was red. Two modern red sofas, a dark red coffee table between them with red walls and floor and a mirrored ceiling. You took off your coat and draped it over the sofa. Nik pulled you around the sofa and forcibly sat you down before stalking off behind you.

The two of you were alone for now. You watched him through the mirror. There was tension in his shoulders, tension you caused. You scratched at the skin around your nails. This room felt evil. It was the mouth of some bigger monster and after Nik and John were through with you they’d leave you here to be digested.

A hidden window opened on the side of the wall and Nik pulled two drinks from it. His usual whiskey on the rocks and something fruity for you.

“Not yet.” he said when you went to take a sip. He sat beside you and pulled out a little plastic bag with white powder inside. Your stomach dropped. “Stop shaking. You don’t have to take it but it will make you feel better. Help you relax.” He mouthed at the skin behind your ear. “Might even have fun.”

“What is it?”

“Ketamine. Have you tried it before?”

“No.” You had been lucky enough to avoid drugs this past year. Alcohol, not so much. You never judged the girls who partook. It was tempting. It was just one of the things you avoided to try to hold on to some sliver of your past self. Ketamine wasn’t that bad, was it? You knew the general effects, one of which being you might not remember what happens tonight.

“I’ll help you.” He finished his drink in one large gulp.

He used his credit card to make a line of powder for you on the side of his hand. He held his it up for you.

“Go slow otherwise it will end up in your throat. Breath normally.” He used his other hand to plug your one nostril. “There we go.”

It wasn’t a pleasant feeling. Your nose scrunched as the powder stuck to something up there. It didn’t hit instantly like in the movies. It mostly just tickled.

“If you need more, just tell me.” He licked the residue off his hand and rubbed his tongue across his upper gums. “C’mere.”

He pulled you into his lap and let you settle your back against his chest. He spread your legs apart with his thighs and ran his hands up and down your arms.

“You might feel a little strange. Like you’re floating. Remember that I won’t let anything hurt you. No matter how you feel.” He was rubbing the inside of your thigh now.

“When will I feel it?”

“Ten minutes or so. Relax.” You already felt a little mushy but that was more from the adrenaline drop than the ketamine. His hand was under your dress now, a ringed finger rubbing against your covered sex. Your drink found its way into your hand and he peppered kisses to your cheek with every little sip. “Getting wet for me?”

He pushed your panties to the side and dipped a finger inside you. Hushing you while you squirmed. You leaned your head back, tucking into his neck. His skin was warm and it had an all too familiar scent. His mouth hovered near your hairline. He always spoke in Russian when he worked you up. Let you imagine his words meant whatever you wanted, whatever you needed.

Fantasy would get you through this. Let candy floss fill your head, pink and sweet, blocking out anything negative. As he stretched you open you felt your limbs get lighter. The arm around your waist was your anchor, keeping you on earth with him. You looked so far away up in that mirror. It didn’t feel like a mirror. You weren’t in your body anymore. You liked this feeling. Being an observer rather than a participant. Easier to watch than feel.

“Come back to me, Kotenok.” You clenched around his fingers, orgasm wrenched from your body while you arched against his grip. He kept you steady, pulling you back against his chest. You were warm and gooey, being held solid by his hands alone. “There we go.”

You were laid on your back across the couch while he got up. You closed your eyes and color flooded behind your lids, warm tones that reminded you of sunsets and candlelight. You raised your hands, trying to hold that light between your fingers. You heard Nik walking around and the door opening, two new voices entering your space.

A hand grabbed yours. Not Nik’s, still large but lacked his rings.

“Gorgeous as always. You always know where to get the prettiest ones.” Your head was lifted and then dropped into a lap, the hand holding yours resting on your chest between your breasts. John was staring down at you, beard grown out a little bit more but more groomed than last time. Nik was sitting across from you on the opposite couch, new drink in hand.

You wondered if John could feel your heart rate rise, like a rabbit fighting to escape. You were a rabbit, already trapped in the mouth of a wolf. Nik was a man that could never be satiated, you knew that now. He could rip you apart, lick you clean and suck the marrow from your bones and be hungry for more.

His and John’s words spun around your head without meaning. Your dress was hiked up and John had two fingers inside you. The bulge in Nik’s trousers was the only sign you were real and he was watching you.

John was on top of you, the blunt end of his cock rubbing through your folds. Nik’s thumb found its way in your mouth, smearing more powder against your upper gums. He rubbed circles on the apples of your cheeks.

“Open.” You went slack jawed, mouth opening for him to slide his cock in.

You lost track of it all. Who was inside you, how many times Nik gave you more ket, how many drinks they gave you. You weren’t in your body anymore. You weren’t in that room. You weren’t anywhere. Floating in some darkness with nothing to tether you. You thrashed and cried, pulling at skin you couldn’t find. You couldn’t feel your own breath. A dream you couldn’t escape from. Scream and scream. Arms flailing to find something solid. Oh god, oh god, oh god. It’d happened. You were being digested. He’d killed you.

Gentle pats to your cheek. Your name was being called from the darkness. Your body was being jostled about.

“Look at me. Open your eyes.” Bright light. “There we go. There she is. Look at me. Get her water. Had too much fun, did we?”

Nik had you in his arms. Sweat was beaded up on his forehead, strands of dark hair falling into his face. You could feel his heart pounding through his clothes. He was cradling you, keeping the hair out of your face as you returned to your body.

“Drink. It’s just water.” Your arms felt heavy.

“Gave us a little scare, love.” John chuckled, holding the glass up to your mouth. It was too cold, making the salt in your mouth more noticeable. “Drink it all.”

Nik kept a thumb against your inner wrist while he rocked you. John was putting his clothes back on.

“Want me to stay?”

“No, enjoy the rest of your night. You have a lot to celebrate, Captain.” Nik smiled at his friend. “I’m going to take her home. My doctor will meet us there.”

“She’s a pretty thing. Don’t break her quite yet.” He laughed before ruffling your hair. “Want to taste her again at least.”

Nik nodded and fixed your hair.

It was quiet after John left. You couldn’t even hear the music from the main club anymore. Nik had you drink another glass of water. “You’ll be okay, Kotenok.”

He wrapped you in your coat before carrying you back downstairs. Buckled you in the car and tucked the fur around you like a blanket.

“You did well. I might have overdone it.” He shrugged.

You blinked at him.

“I hate you.”

He didn’t respond.

There was an IV in your arm and a pounding in your head. You were on the couch in the living room, fur coat laid over your body. Nik was sitting by your feet, wearing an undershirt and his trousers from the night before. He looked tired.

“How do you feel?”

“Don’t try to make yourself feel better.” You pushed yourself up to lean against the arm of the couch.

“I want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I was raped and drugged last night, Nikolai.”

“You wanted the drugs.”

“No argument against raping me?”

“You get paid.”

“No. No, I don’t. You pay Arno! I get nothing!” Your chest was heaving, lungs struggling to keep up with your anger. “Do you think I want to be here? Do you think I want this! I don’t want to fuck you! I don’t want to go to clubs or restaurant or wear these fucking clothes! I want my life back!”

You threw the coat at him, “I don’t want to assuage your guilt for refusing to admit you’re a fucking rapist!”

His hand shot out from his side and wrapped around your neck. The back of your head hit the arm of the couch. All your strength went to trying to force him off from on top of you. You grabbed his arm, scratching at him till he bled.

“You think I don’t know what I am? I am a rapist. I am a murderer. I am a thief. You don’t make the kind of money I have by trying to make it up to a whore,” he hissed. He jiggled his chain in your face. “You’re this, an accessory, a cock sleeve. I can get a new one if you think you’re too good for it. What? You want to speak?”

He loosened his grip, you gulped up the oxygen, the spots in your vision slowly blinking away.

“Fuck you! Kill me! Fucking kill me!” You shoved against his chest, the IV tearing out and leaving a trail of blood across the two of you, the couch and floor. “I hate you! Kill me! I know it’ll just turn you on!”

He grabbed your arm, squeezing hard to stem the bleeding.

“I hate you! I hate you!” You kept screaming, taking swipes at his face. “I did everything you wanted! Why? Why! Why!”

He grabbed your throat, pushing you down to the couch till you were pinned. He didn’t squeeze, just held you there while he ripped part of his shirt to tie around your bleeding arm. He was muttering to himself in Russian. When the makeshift gauze was tied off he let go and got off of you. Blood trickled down his cheek from where your nails had caught him.

“Don’t move!” He yelled at you, wiping the blood from his face. He closed his eyes, breathing hard. His jaw was tense. His eyes were dark when he looked at you. It was anger but also disappointment. He stormed out of the room.

You could go crawling after, begging, showing your belly in submission. Let him do whatever he wants to make it up to him for your outburst. You wanted to feel him be gentle again, let yourself dive into the fantasy that he’d keep you safe. It just wasn’t something you could afford anymore. Your body hurt, your head hurt, your heart hurt. You almost wished you died last night.

You picked your coat up off the floor and pulled it around your shoulders. If you tried to leave now, what was the worst he could do? Kill you? You trudged your way towards the white room. Nik was already waiting by the door.

You knew from the look on his face.

“Kolya, no.” You shook your head.

“I told you not to bite.” He opened the door.

Arno walked in.

“Where’s my girl?”

#nikolai x reader #nikolai x f!reader #nikolai cod #dark fic #my writing #call of duty #call of duty mw2 #cod modern warfare #cod #cod mw2 #cod mwii #pomegranate #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty x reader

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coralinnii · 1 year ago

Note

Is it alright if I request Ruggie, Deuce, Trey and Cater helping fem!reader with her period?

‧₊˚✧ To share our joys and abdominal pain ‧₊˚✧

↳ Helping fem!reader going through periods

feat: Ruggie ❋ Deuce ❋ Trey ❋ Cater genre: fluff, humor note: no pronouns were used for reader (I just ended up not using any), symptoms of periods vary in stories to match the reality of different experiences in real life,

Fun fact, some of the scenarios in this post were inspired by real life experiences between me and my male friends. I missed those idiots, but now they’re somewhat smarter now. Me and my friends called it “the shining” cuz of the famous elevator scene xD

2.7K Followers Writing Event 2023

Not gonna lie, he might be a little afraid of you whenever the time of the month comes around.

Coming from a nation where women are revered as strong and aggressive as well as coming from a woman-dominated culture, Ruggie had learned an important lesson in not pissing anyone off when their body is going through what could be described as hell, blood included.

Whether your symptoms are more tolerable or excruciating, it was still a surprise to suddenly see your nervous boyfriend carrying a gift basket with essentials like a peace offering of sorts. Appreciative, but a surprise nonetheless.

It was also a surprise to see that Ruggie had built a little fort for you filled with fluffy blankets and pillows. Ruggie can’t imagine how painful cramps can get but if you need to curl yourself, he rather you have somewhere comfy and warm to do so.

No one tell him he just essentially built a nest for his partner. He already knows.

Once you enter his nest fort, you’ll never leave. Not because you can’t but rather you never needed to. Anything you needed or had a craving for, the observant hyena caught on and was quick to make your wishes come true.

Under his fears, he watches over you in worried awe as you brave through your pain the best you can. He always had respect for anyone who has to go through the day in so much pain but when you smiled at him so sweetly as you thanked him for bringing you some painkillers, his heart bleeds.

Whether he has to run 10 miles to get you something with his money or just to rub small circles on your stomach to ease the cramps, he’s willing to do any work to make you a little better.

"You hungry? I can whip up something good in the kitchen if you're hankerin' for something sweet. Leona'll understand me goin' missing for a while. Afterall, I gotta stay when my babe needs me. Shyeheehee~"

He was panicking so much, it’s almost comical.

This lovable dummy won’t know what’s going on with you and simply you were sick or unhappy with him given how easily irritated and queasy you were throughout the first day. It was until you flat out told him that he finally put two and two together.

“oh…Oh…OH SHI-!”

He wants to help so much but the former delinquent has no clue on anything regarding the female anatomy. He tried looking up some helpful advice but unfortunately he only got more confused because it’s the fricking internet.

“Deuce, what are you doing?”

“Protecting you. I read that bears and sharks can smell you and they’ll attack you!”

Thankfully, a call with his mom sent him in a better direction. The embarrassing flush of red of his cheeks was a cute contrast to his blue hair and eyes.

With guidance and some trial-and-error, Deuce was trying his darndest in helping you throughout these hellish days. Even if you’re the type to rather handle things yourself, it was nice to have someone by your side even if you get more irritable than usual.

Like when a particularly bad wave of cramps suddenly hit you in the middle of the day.

The excruciating twisting and stabbing feeling in your abdomen brought you close to tears as you gritted your teeth to bear the pain. With swirling feelings of nausea and anger clouding your senses, your fight-or-flight senses kicked in as you growled out for people not to touch you in such a sensitive state.

Almost everyone cowered at your seething words, except for Deuce. Instead, he wordlessly scooped you up in his arms and quickly made his way to the infirmary, only opening his mouth to apologize as you punched and yelled at him while in pain.

It wasn’t until he finally laid you down onto the comforting bed of the infirmary that you apologized for your harsh behaviour, but the blue-haired freshman only grinned at you, fist to his chest like a show of confidence.

“I may be an idiot, but I’m pretty strong and can take a punch. I’m gonna be right here if you ever need anything.”

One of the more level-headed students on campus, he wasn’t too panicked when you told him when your monthly visitor came around.

Being someone with a younger sister, Trey at least has some basic understanding of what could happen during this time.

Since it shouldn’t be anyone’s business but your own, he kept your predicament discrete for your privacy. If anyone in Heartslabyul did take notice and made any demeaning comments about it, they had a sudden flux of kitchen clean up duty because “since they happen to be so free to talk about someone else’s pain, they can do some good around the dorm.”

He would take over your Grim duties during the first few hellish days, keeping your rambunctious dormmate distracted when he noticed that you’re not quite in the best mind or body to watch over him.

If you don’t specifically tell him though, he may go a little overboard with taking care of you. Trey is the type to be over prepared with everything and anything that involves you. Of course, he’ll bake you some of your favourite treats but he would also refill your hot bottle, remind you constantly to stay hydrated, and gently force you to lay down if you get migraines.

Trey is a sweetheart through and through, ready to help with anything if it would turn your pain from a 100 to even a 99. Even if all you ask is for him to caress your head as you rest before he leaves, he’s sure he could probably talk his way out of his vice housewarden duties for the day, just to stay with you through it all.

“Are you awake? You should have something sweet to eat to ease the cramps. Ha ha, don’t be shy. What would you like me to make?"

None of this is new to him. He grew up with two older sisters for Seven’s sake, he understands and sees the sh*t the body goes through every month. He could watch you wreck an entire room or cry for hours on end and just go “hmm, valid.”

He’ll still act like his typical fun and flirty self. Even when he had a feeling you were on your period, he doesn’t pry or hint his suspicion unless you told him yourself. He knew it wasn’t his place to comment on anything.

If you do tell him, he will try his best to make you feel the best through this painful ride of hormones. He just doesn’t wanna make you feel like you’re getting unwanted attention during all of this.

The two of you would have sleepovers whenever you feel too tired or if your body feels too sore to move. If you’re prone to bad breakouts during periods and feeling unattractive, Cater would dispel your worries by making you feel so beautiful, leaving sweet kisses on your face as he’s pampering your aching body.

Despite what people may think of his attention-seeking tendencies, Cater’s very intuitive and works to make you feel good throughout the monthly changes. Never is he the type to make you feel bad or burdensome for your unpredictable needs and aches.

For you, the outgoing junior could spend the day away chatting about anything and everything just to distract you from the mood swings. If you feel too tired to talk, Cater would happily lend you his shoulder to rest on while the two of you bundle together under a warm blanket and watch cute animal videos on his phone.

“Don’t worry, your Cay-Cay is here for you, cutie~! Just relax and take care of your totes fab self, ‘kay?

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joi-me-hoi-me-noi · 11 months ago

Note

Hello, I saw that your requests were open and I wanted to ask if I can make one hehe, you don't have to do it or anything like that, but I'll leave the idea here anyway hahaha.

I would like to request a teen! Satoru Gojo x fem! reader and kid!Megumi (or gender neutral) Where Satoru Gojo and reader have known each other since they were little and they are both powerful, therefore when it is time to go on the mission to protect Riko Amanai she is also sent along with Satoru and Suguru,She also suffers because of Toji Zenin and basically everyone is traumatized (here we stick to the canon, doing the daily angst that our dearest Gege gives us..:) ) And basically after the events, reader and Gojo go to Megumi to make Touji's last words come true,I'd like to see a little bit of domestic fluff and a little bit of angst hehe...Reader seeing Toji in Megumi but at the same time wanting to stop because she knows they are completely different people. Happy ending :D

A/n: Thank you for this wonderful request, I'm pretty sure this is the first request regarding JJK in general so yippeeee! Enjoy!

DIFFERENCE BETWEEN (TEEN!GN!Reader x TEEN!Gojo) [ft. KID!Megumi]

"Stay here with Misato, just in case that man manages to make it down here."

You simply nod, looking away. Something felt wrong, you could feel it in your gut. You feel Suguru's hand on your shoulder and you look up at him.

"Satoru's got this, he's the strongest there is. You probably won't even be needed."

You turn to Riko, the sadness building up inside of you. She looked like she was about to cry as well. You had so much fun with her, you'd miss her so much. She rushes into you for a hug, and you hug back tightly, your eyes welling with tears.

"I'm going to miss you." She buries her head in your shoulder. "I'll miss you too, bug."

You let go of her and watch as she walks forward with Suguru, leading her to the end of her life.

You and Misato finally hear the elevator coming down. Satoru made quick work of that guy; it really didn't take that long either.

"That must be him, right?" Misato looks at you, happily.

You start to smile as you felt the elevator growing nearby. Soon it fades, you detect no cursed energy from the lift at all. You start to activate your technique and Misato gets prepared to fight.

The elevator doors open then everything goes black.

"Y/n... Y/n!"

Your eyes slowly open as you wake up with a bad headache. You blink a couple of times and finally adjust to the bright light. Shoko stares at you in relief, smiling softly at you.

"W-What happened?" You suddenly remember the elevator and-

You sit up quickly, groaning in pain and being calmed by Shoko.

"Easy. Easy!" She touches her hand to your back softly, rubbing up and down.

"Is Satoru okay?!" She nods.

The door to the clinic opens to reveal Suguru, a solemn expression on his face.

"Suguru, what's wrong?"

"I gave Riko a choice of continuing to live or to die. She chose to live her life."

You smile, happy he gave her a decision.

"She's...um..."

You laugh softly, smile slowly fading. She couldn't have...

"She's alive and back at home with Misato...right?"

He stays silent, looking at the shiny floor of the clinic.

A sobbing scream was heard from inside the clinic as Gojo listened silently near the door.

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮

You shoot awake from your bed, looking over at your boyfriend who is still sound asleep. Your hand unconsciously rubs the spot where Toji Zenin's bullet almost killed you. You let out a sigh and escape from the bedroom and into the kitchen area.

"You're fine." You open the fridge, the glow illuminating your face with the most perfect uncomfortable amount.

You lean your head against the fridge door and take a deep breath before grabbing a water bottle. You couldn't help but rest your head against one of the counters and sob. You hated how your traumatic experiences will always come back to haunt you. You wipe your eyes, take another deep breath and take a sip of your water.

Your ears pick up a light pitter-patter sound approaching slowly. You turn towards the noise, observing Megumi with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, stopped in the middle of the dark hallway.

"Hey Megumi, you shouldn't be up. What's up?" You crouch down in front of the counter as he continues his silent approach.

"I heard you crying and I couldn't sleep." The kid looked so much like him, he scared you sometimes.

"It's nothing to worry about." His eyes are so similar to his father's.

"I think it is if you're crying. Did you have a nightmare?" Everything is similar to Toji.

"So-Something like that. I'm almost an adult, it's nothing."

Megumi just stares at you blankly for a moment before wrapping his blanket-winged arms around your neck.

"Everyone's afraid of something." He leans in closer to your ear, whispering. "It's okay to admit it, I'm afraid too."

You smile and hug him tight, rocking him back and forth on the kitchen floor. He made you feel better, way better than before. He's just a kid, Y/n. He's not his dad.

"Let's rest together, yeah? It might be easier to sleep that way." He nods, tiredly.

You scoop him up and walk over to the couch. You lay on the couch with him cuddled up into your neck, softly breathing. Megumi fell asleep quickly. You brush your fingers through his hair, watching him fall into a deeper sleep. Soon, you follow him into a better dream than before.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Satoru wakes from his sleep and walks into the living room, knowing you got up in the middle of the night. He spots Megumi cuddling with you in his sleep and you hold him tightly.

'Cute...'

He touches the small scar on the side of your head and then kisses it, bending down slowly. You're more comfortable with Megumi and he hopes you'll get closer to him from here on out.

╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

Masterlist —> link

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oneforthemunny · 2 years ago

Text

blood soaked tears |mafia!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: eddie gets hurt, and continues to hurt himself. you're not staying around to watch.

bad description holy shit, but if you remember from the old blog (rip) this is the angst you wanted lol. also my first fic (not repost) since starting this blog!!! a long angsty one so buckle up!!!

contains: 18+ minors dni, mafia!eddie au, blood, guns, eddie is shot and hospitalized, language, fighting, mentions of eddie's dad (derogatory), angst, angst, ANGST

You knew.

You knew from the first shrill of the black landline on your desk. You knew from the quivering sigh on the other line. You knew from the rasp in Hopper's voice, the urgent tone that he desperately tried to mask as calm when he told you, "It's Eddie. He-He's... You need to get down here. He's in the hospital."

The twisting gut punched sensation that sent a shock through your nervous systems, senses tightened with fear and shaking with every fear-filled step of your strappy heels clacking fiercely against the pavement. You could barely grasp your key to turn the ignition, all quivering hands that fumbled, a white knuckled grip on the wheel of the Porsche, the car zipping and gliding through the streets of Hawkins with ease.

Eddie had bought it for you for the speed. Told you how pretty you looked in your little sports car, how much he loved watching you drive and go fast. Your stomach twisted uncomfortably, bile rising thick in your throat at the thought. You didn't want to see the state Eddie was in. You weren't sure you could bear it.

The drive to the hospital was filled with racing thoughts, consuming anxieties that whirred and raced through your mind. What happened? Are the other boys ok? Oh God, who's going to take care of the dogs? They're still at the house and need to be let out. Did anyone tell Wayne? Should I tell Wayne? I need to call him, maybe the hospital will let me use their phone.

What if he's dead?

That sickening, ringing question that only got louder and louder, deafening you with the cruelty of the words. The harsh reality that you very well could be facing your worst fears. You didn't want to think about life without Eddie. You couldn't.

You couldn't imagine not waking up next to him every day. Not feeling his sweet kisses in the morning. Never hearing him hum lowly in his chest, swaying with you in the kitchen. Being without that beautiful laugh that bubbled out of his chest, shook through his body and always left him with a dimpled smile that radiated over to you filling you with warmth. Never hearing him tell you he loved you, or holding him, or watching him throw toys in the backyard with the dogs.

You couldn't do it. You wouldn't.

The fluorescent lighting of the hospital did nothing to help the eery feeling that settled deep in the pit of your tummy.

Hopper's gruff voice stopped you, calling your name before you could get on the elevator, tunnel visioned and determined though you didn't know where you were going.

"Hop," You hated the way your voice shook, frail and wobbly; afraid. "What's going on? Where is he? I-Is he ok?"

Hopper sighed slow, heavy, a horrifying sign to you. "They've got the west wing on the second floor cleared for him." He said lowly, eyes scanning around. "We can talk up there."

"W-What happened?" You asked. The lights were getting brighter by the second, you were sure of it.

"He got hurt." Hopper said slowly, vaguely, nodding towards another officer while his eyes still scanned around. He was looking for a threat.

You passed two other men in the waiting room, inconspicuous waiting patients- but you'd seen them before. They worked for Eddie. They were here for backup, you knew enough to know that. The realization made you sick.

Hopper pushed back the restricted area, past the bustling nurses and doctors all scurrying with medical equipment, to the back elevator. The emergency elevator for staff only.

The elevator creaked, stopping with a low thud in front of you, craning open with an ominous groan. You could barely move, barely will your brain to tell your legs to get on, much too consumed with the terrorizing what-ifs.

Hopper looked ahead, spine straightening as the numbers climbed. The other officer moved his hand to his holster, gripping his gun as nonchalantly as he could, but you didn't miss it.

"Is he dead?" You asked, your own voice surprising yourself.

The other officer turned to Hopper, eyes cutting carefully to monitor his reaction. Hopper didn't turn, kept his head pointed forward, eyes trained on the doors. "No."

You could feel your shoulders fall in some sort of relief, muscles quaking at the release in pressure. The chime of the elevator accompanied the low groan of the doors parting for the three of you to step off.

The hallway ahead looked like something out of your worst nightmares. Dim and dark, flickering with lights and all together abandoned. There were men by the elevator, men by the doors, posted down the secluded halls. They all looked at you solemnly when you passed, eyes falling down in sorrow.

Gareth's mess of curls passed by the small, narrowed window of the closed door, once then twice, pacing furiously.

"Gareth?" His eyes flickered towards yours when you entered, wide and red-rimmed.

Jeff lifted his head, hands folded and placed between spread legs, head hung low with defeat. Max looked angry, furious, those steel eyes cutting and calculated; she was planning her revenge already. She was always so good at considering every step, carefully considering the best outcomes with optimal damages. It's why she was one of Eddie's closest 'goons'. He always laughed when he called her that.

Your chest ached at the thought, knowing you wouldn't hear his laugh today.

"What happened?" You asked, eyes darting from him to Jeff to Max. "I-Is he alright?"

"He got shot." Max snapped bitterly. You knew she didn't mean to be so biting, that she was angry and hurt; maybe even scared. "They got him in surgery right now."

You paled at the thought, lifeless and hopeless feeling leaving your frame and slithering down your body chillingly. The ringing in your ears returned, a dull screech that made your head spin.

Jeff called your name lightly, brown eyes drooped with pain. These were Eddie's closest friends. His most trusted friends that watched their friend get shot. He wasn't a boss to them, wasn't the mean scary mafia man who put a chilling fear into anyone with a look. To them, that was their friend; and they watched him get shot.

"He got shot in the chest." Jeff said slowly, a shaky exhale that he tried to hide, ducking his head back down.

You swallowed thickly, looking from Hopper back to Gareth, eyes begging for someone to say it wasn't true. To tell you he'd be ok. For Gareth to cackle and tell you, "Munson's had way worse, don't even sweat it," like he did when Eddie had to have stitches from a stabbing.

They didn't this time.

Instead, they all held the same solemn look in their eyes, scared and unknowing.

"They said they won't know if it hit his heart or-or a spinal chord until they open him up." Gareth swallowed, hands clenching to hide the shake in them. "He, uh, he lost a lot of blood."

You exhaled slowly, a shaky breath you didn't know you were holding, ribs feeling like they might cave in entirely, crushing your lungs- your heart.

"D-Do you think he'll be," You willed your voice out of your throat, shuddering breaths that threatened to escape with the tears you held back. "Is he going to be ok?"

No one answered you.

Downcast eyes that refused to meet yours, a thick, uncomfortable tension that lingered in the air, deafeningly loud over the buzz of the air conditioning in the small area.

***

The doctor came shortly after Wayne had arrived. Eddie's uncle sunk into the waiting room chair, knee bouncing furiously, those familiar brown eyes hard and trained on the wall.

No one spoke. No one knew what to say, what to do. That was the worst part, the waiting. Gareth paced, Jeff barely looked up, Max plotted, and Hopper tried to multitask- calling Rick and checking reports, huddled by the phone.

The anxious man still in powder blue scrubs stood before you, voice wavering while he told you Eddie's condition, throwing around the word critical and coma, two phrases that rung in your ears, piercing and loud.

Eddie laid lifelessly before you, a million beeping machines monitoring his condition, a wide tube shoved down his throat, ribcage expanding and falling sharply. Thick lashes that rested neatly on his cheeks. You were always so jealous of how long his lashes were, so beautiful framing those puddle eyes you adored. The dried blood around his mouth and nose, caked on crimson that made your stomach twist.

You'd never seen him so still. So flaccid and rigid, covered in a hospital gown, too colorful for anything Eddie would normally wear. He was never this idle, not even in his deepest sleep. His body twitched, lugged arms that weighed heavy on your body. He'd snore, drool, settle in his sleep; show some signs of life and movement. You used to whine and shove him off you, snap at him the next morning for hogging the blankets.

You wish you could take that back now. You'd let him have all the blankets, you'd let him drool in your hair, drop a heavy arm on you, snore in your ear all night; you'd do anything to have him be ok. Anything to be home in bed with him.

Wayne's shuddering breath startled you lightly, pulling you out of your fixated trance. "Boy," He grumbled, jaw clenched tightly. "What have you gone and done now?"

The doctor told you to be patient, that it would take time. It would be a slow recovery.

The silence crept back into the room, now filled with a background symphony of beeps and crinkling machines to lull out the sound of your dread and pain.

You and Wayne sat side by side, chairs huddled up by Eddie's bed watching him, the rise and fall of his chest, slow and calculated. Both of you scared to look away. Afraid if you did, it might stop.

***

"Missy, didn't I tell you to go home and get some sleep?" Wayne's gruff voice poured through the room, warm and grizzly, a nice contrast to the sharpness of the machines you'd grown used to.

You huffed playfully, folding up the blanket and tucking it in the chair next to your makeshift cot. "I wouldn't be able to sleep at home anyways." You muttered, rubbing at your eyes.

It had been a little over a week since you'd arrived, scared and skittish with that sinking feeling of impending doom. It still hadn't left, consumed your insides and left you queazy, but Eddie had started to improve. The doctors came in with positive reports daily, praises of his condition on the incline. The day before, you and Wayne watched Eddie start to twitch, eyelashes fluttering and moving a tiny bit in his induced sleep.

It made you grin. A little sliver of hope that was returning back to you. Wayne had laughed with you, pulling you close into his side in a comforting hug. "Y'know I always worry 'bout that boy not gettin' enough sleep. Guess on the bright side he'll be pretty well rested now."

You could make jokes now.

Now that Eddie was getting better. Now that they were taking the tube out and pulling him off the heavy sedatives. Now that his beautiful brown eyes were groggily staring into yours, letting you give him water on a sponge to wet his tongue.

"Hi, sweetheart," Eddie's slurred finally, voice cracking and rasping from the tube. The doctor told you he'd be sore from it for a while, a little foggy while the drugs wore off too, but even in his haze his eyes held that same warming light of adoration when they looked at you.

Lips trembling and chest tightening, you flung yourself carefully into his shoulder, heaving sobs that wracked through your whole body, muffled into the scratchy material of the gown. Eddie held you still, even in his loopy state, he comforted you lightly, calloused hands rubbing up and down your spine slowly.

"Don't ever scare me like that again, Eddie," You sniffled, watery and choking on your own sobs. "Thought I lost you forever."

"Can't get rid of me that easily, baby." Eddie droned, a lopsided dimpled grin and heavy lidded eyes that made you swoon. "I'm tougher than that."

And he was. He really was. You knew that he was, his friends did, Wayne did, Hopper did, the guys who did this to him certainly did; but you also knew the doctor's orders.

Dr. Montgomery had let Eddie go under one condition: rest.

Bed rest, sleep, antibiotics, and nothing extreme at least until the stitches healed.

You'd been absolutely buzzing with excitement when you brought him home, carefully commanding the dogs when you walked in, willing them down but letting them greet Eddie with excited wags. You'd set him up in the guest bedroom on the first floor, the stairs too strenuous for him now.

"Baby, I'm fine." Eddie moaned lightly, arm wrapped around you for support. "I wanna sleep in my own bed, please."

"The doctor said-"

"I'll be fine." Eddie sighed lightly. "Please? Just help me up the stairs. I'll go really slow and careful, ok? Just please, sweetheart, I wanna sleep in my own bed with you." Those brown eyes rounded, melting into you so sweetly, you couldn't possibly say no.

So you helped him up the stairs, Gareth and Jeff aiding you to make it as painless as possible. Eddie sunk into the silk sheets, freshly washed and scented with that detergent you loved so much. You hadn't let the housemaid clean the sheets until he was better, too scared to lose the scent of him that lingered on his pillows.

You slept better than you had in days, Eddie's hand grazing your hip, your waist, your cheek. Tearful whispers and shushed kisses shared under red bedsheets, promises of better days ahead, and you believed there would be.

Until the next day.

Heavy lids, still bleary with sleep, watched Eddie through blurry vision as he grunted softly, sitting on the edge of the bed. "W-What are you doing, honey?" You muttered, rubbing the palm of your hand over your eyes. "Tell me what you need. I'll get it. Y'don't need to be moving a lot. You'll tear your stitches."

Eddie smiled softly back at you, dressed in his black button down, black tailored Armani slacks, chains and rings; his work attire.

"Go back to bed, sweetheart. I'll be back in a little bit." Eddie whispered, a normally soothing tone that left you rigid instead.

Spine straightening, eyes blinking you looked at him carefully. "Eddie," Your eyes scanned over his frame. "You-What do you think you're doing?"

Eddie paused, slowly looking over his shoulder at you. "Baby," He started, that same tone he used when he was trying to soothe you; when he was about to tell you something you wouldn't like. "I gotta go to work."

Your heart stilled in your chest, a fluttering stop that left you breathless. "Are you-Are you being serious?" You blinked. "Eddie, you just got fucking shot-"

"It's nothing strenuous, baby, I promise." Eddie's quick reply came with a heavy sigh. "Jeff and Gare will be with me, and Rick made sure I was doubled up with his guys-"

"-You just got out of a coma!" You screeched, sitting on your knees, fully awake and furious. "A coma! You're supposed to be resting!"

"I will be." Eddie replied, calm and smooth, like you were arguing about something minuscule. "It's just meetings. Just planning-"

"-Eddie, you almost died." You choked on the word, that constricting around tears and fury.

There was a chilling silence, thick and ominous that settled between the two of you. Eddie's jaw flexed, eyes piercing into yours with a familiar look of fear. It always came across like a challenge, but you knew better; knew him better.

"I'll take it easy, I promise." Eddie's response was nonchalant, brushing off any of your fear and discarding it meanly away. "I'll be back soon."

Your heart raced uncomfortably, that familiar rising panic that you felt days before running through the hospital. "If you leave, I won't be here when you get back." Your heart thumped in your ears, chills shaking down your body. Eddie's hand lingered on the knob, stilling but not turning towards you.

"I swear to God, Eddie, if you walk out that door, I won't be here anymore. I'm not letting you kill yourself. You can't go back now, it's too soon. You-You'll get hurt." Your voice cracked, lip wobbling. "You're hurting me."

Eddie whispered your name, defeated and tired, eyes pleading with you like you were in the wrong. "I'll be back soon." He whispered, those thick lashed framing his eyes.

You swallowed back a sob when he shut the door, the click of the lock far too loud and heavy in the silent room. Tears rimmed your eyes, blinding your vision and spilling down your cheeks. Your heart ached, even as you waited, determined he'd come back. Sure he'd come through the door and apologize, smother you in kisses and apologies, rest like you'd begged him to do- like he'd promised he would do.

But he didn't.

The room stayed silent and still, the dogs watching you carefully from their beds, your eyes unmoving from the frozen doorway.

Unlike Eddie, you were true on your word.

He'd only been gone an hour and a half, rushing through the meetings at the warehouse, securing plans and leads before barking orders and coming back home. His chest ached, stitches healing and stretching uncomfortably, and he was tired, head still foggy from the medication.

All Eddie wanted was to go back home, pop a pain pill, and curl back into bed with you. The guilt of leaving you was eating him alive, but he had to go. Sure, Jeff or Gareth or Max could have covered the plans, he knew they were more than capable, but Eddie needed to do it; had to, for himself. The fear of getting swapped out and replaced for another was festering and stirring in the pit of his stomach.

Eddie called your name, a little surprised that the dogs didn't greet him. Instead, they were seated outside the bedroom door, whinging and whimpering pathetically to get in.

"Baby?" Eddie's brow furrowed, lips pressing together. "Don't tell me you're still mad at me, kitten. I told you I'd be back soon, I just had to finish a few-"

He didn't find you in the sea of red sheets like he imagined. He didn't find you in the bathroom, or the closet, or the living room, or anywhere. He didn't find your car gone, clothes missing, nothing out of the ordinary, but yet, he didn't find you.

Instead, he found a letter, neatly tucked in an envelope by your bedside table, scribbled words in your handwriting on a tear soaked card that tore his heart out, filled him with dread and fear and anger- not at you, at himself.

"Gareth!" Eddie thundered, sending the dogs into a frantic frenzy, barking and growling viciously.

Gareth pounded up the stairs, eyes wide in fear and alert. Eddie's tear-filled eyes met his, jaw clenched in anger. "Find her." He muttered. "Find her right fucking now. That's everyone's top priority."

"Ed, what-what hap-"

"-I told you to find her!" Eddie roared, the vein in his neck thrumming and protruding out fiercely. "Right now! Fuck!" He hobbled towards the stairs, gripping the steel banister for support.

"Ed, wait, seriously, you can't be acting like this, alright? I'll find her, but if you tear your stitches she's gonna be so mad." Gareth said calmly. He was used to this kind of attitude, exploding and chaotic, but he hadn't seen this side of Eddie in years. Hadn't seen him this scared in years, not even days ago when he was bleeding out in his arms.

"You better fuckin' find her, Emerson, you fuckin' hear me?" Eddie growled, chest heaving and ringed finger jabbing towards Gareth.

"I will, Ed, I will." Gareth held his hands up, backing away from Eddie carefully. "I'll find her just-just relax, ok? I'll find her."

***

Two days.

It had been two days of Gareth, Jeff, Max, and everyone else on Eddie's payroll searching tirelessly to find you. It wasn't until a traced call by Hopper that Eddie had his answer.

The gravel of the Forest Hills Trailer Park flew out under the tires of the Bugatti, speeding towards the familiar back lot. Eddie gripped the wheel tight, barely throwing the gear into park before he was stepping out, bounding towards the steps.

Wayne was already at the doorway, holding the screen door open with a hard glare. "Thought that doctor told you to rest?"

"Where is she?" Eddie ignored him, eyes mirroring his uncle's in a rivaling gaze. "Huh? Where's she at, Wayne?"

You stood, hidden from your place in the kitchen, peeking around the corner carefully. You could barely see Eddie's curls, wild and frizzy, clearly mussed from his hands tugging and pulling at the locks- something he always did when he was stressed.

"Thought that doctor told you to rest." Wayne repeated, stepping out on the front step. "Thought your girl told you that too."

Eddie swallowed hard, desperate to keep his emotions contained. He'd worked so hard for so many years to train himself to maintain his composure, keep his cool. "Wayne, please, ok? Please let me see her-"

"-Ya know, I hoped she was lyin' to me, boy." Wayne continues, heavy work boots clacking against the creaking step, shifting his weight with a low groan. "Thought for sure you'd be followin' your doctor's orders. Thought you'd actually want to be gettin' better after all that, might be different from your Daddy."

Eddie stilled at the mention of his father, a cold chill running down his spine at the comparison. Wayne never spoke of his brother, especially never to relate his son to him.

"You know, that girl in there called me in hysterics twice." Wayne held up two fingers, eyes slotting towards his nephew. "Once to tell me I needed to come see you, that you'd been hurt. No one else thought to do that, only her." Eddie swallowed, guilt bubbling higher and higher into his chest.

"Then she calls me to tell me you're already back out. Won't listen to the doctor, won't listen to her, too stubborn to let yourself heal after you promised her you would." Wayne could see Eddie's eyes blinking, watery and red-rimmed yet wide and watching his every move.

"I can put up with you doin' a lot of shit. Pretend not to know what them skulls on your arm mean, not talk about the obvious; fine. But I didn't raise you to be a liar." Wayne bit, jaw grinding in fury. "'Specially not to the ones you love. The ones who dropped everything to be with you. That girl in there loves you. Didn't leave your side once in that damn hospital." His finger pointed back towards the trailer where you stood, gripping the counter, hidden from their view.

"I-I know." Eddie stuttered out, a deep breath releasing from his nostrils slowly. "I love her too-"

"-Do you?" Wayne snapped.

There was a chilling silence that hung between the two men, thick and heavy, you could feel it all the way inside the trailer. Your heart twisted at the question, squeezing even harder at the potential answer.

"Don't you dare," Eddie's voice was low and gravely in his chest, catching in his throat. "You know I love her, don't you dare-"

"Don't you." Wayne sneered. "I ain't the one who's hurt her, that's you, Ed." You could see Eddie flinch through your tear soaked vision, recoiling at the harshness of his uncle's words.

"I-I didn't mean to-" Eddie stuttered, labored breathing and trembling words falling from his lips. You'd never seen him so frazzled, so emotional this way. So scared.

"Don't give me that shit." Wayne snapped, shaking his head. "You walked out that day, and you knew she didn't want you to go. You know who that sounds a lot like?"

Eddie didn't answer, neither did Wayne, the answer clear on both their faces. Eddie's father was reckless, too, so careless it ended up with his mother dead. Eddie swore he'd never be that stupid, the selfish, yet here he was. Acting exactly like Clint.

Eddie could feel his chest constrict, heaving heavily at the thought. The familiar aching burn of tears squeezing his airway, filling his lungs and throat and nose in the most uncomfortable way. Tears filling his eyes that he tried to will back, knowing once they started they wouldn't stop.

"Please," Eddie rasped, voice too unsteady for his own liking. "Please let me see her."

You could feel your own breath hitched, catching in your throat with a strangled gasp. You moved closer, trying to see Eddie through your own watery vision.

Eddie's eyes caught onto the figure moving slowly towards the doorway, lips pressing together at the sight of you; red rimmed eyes and cheeks that shined wetly even in the cloudy, sunless skies. He did this to you, fuck, he was just like his dad.

"Fuck, 'm so sorry, baby, 'm sorry." Eddie's voice wavered, heels of his hands pressing into his eyes, desperate to keep his leaking tears hidden.

Wayne turned back to look at you, lips pressed together lightly. You wiped your own eyes with the back of your hand, looking at him gently. "Can you... just give us a moment?" You asked softly. Eddie had turned, shoulder stuttering, hands running down his face.

Wayne nodded, eyes cutting back towards his nephew. "I'll be inside if ya need me." He patted your shoulder lightly, comforting, the same squeal of the hinges on the tracks before the door fell with a heavy latch.

You padded carefully towards Eddie, watching him intently with his back still turned. "Ed," You cooed lightly, stopping behind him. "Eddie?"

"I'm so fucking sorry." Eddie breathed, still not turning towards you. "I-I was scared that Rick would have me replaced or-or that the guys might see me as weak, and I-I shouldn't have..." A strangled cry tore through the air, his shoulders dropping low and shaking, chocolate curls cascading to block his covered face.

"Eddie, calm down, honey." You said softly, hands running over the silk material of his shirt. He was still dressed from before when he left for work, a little crumpled.

"I-I'm sorry." His eyes flashed to yours, fat tears rolling down his cheeks, streaming down to his chin. "I'm so sorry."

You reached for him instinctively, holding him close to you, mindful of his stitches though he didn't seem to care. Eddie clung to you, head dropping into your neck, shuddering breaths and shaky sobs mixing with soft apologies and watery promises.

You found yourself huddled in Eddie's old bedroom, pressed into the poster covered wall so the two of you could fit comfortably on the twin bed. His mess of curls, wild and tickling your cheek and chin, his cheek rested on your chest while you ran your nails soothingly through his hair, scratching at his scalp. The two of you stayed there for the week, Wayne and you swapping off on cooking, cleaning Eddie's wounds, making sure he could heal properly.

Eddie promised you, tucked under the quilt in his old bedroom, that he'd do better, he'd take care of himself for you; he wouldn't be like his dad. You whispered back your own vows to not leave him again, silent apologies passed to each other in between loving kisses and longing stares.

1K notes · View notes

desertduality · 1 year ago

Text

HELLO soo I was inspired by the most recent secret life episode to write some tcd angst set in secret life <33 Enjoy :D

Link to Ao3 if you prefer to read there

———----

Scar, despite all odds against him, does hold his own for a little while. Gem is after him, bloodthirsty and intent, for reasons that Scar doesn’t know. She traps his base, she shoots at him, stabs at him — and he survives it all, up until he doesn’t. There are four of them by then, and they hunt him down and pick him off. And he dies.

These games are fun, is the thing. They get together and they make silly little groups with playful rivalry’s and eventually someone wins. It’s fun. Scar has fun, usually.

None of them know about the world he came from. That lonely, ravaged, barren world. The zombies had been everywhere, fast and stubborn. Scar had been young and hurt and alone, and had learned to run on broken legs before he learned how to read.

It’s been a long time ago, now. The memories sneak up on him far less often than they used to, and he’s better. This though, this thing with Gem and the others, it’s hitting him in places that still hurt; places that will always hurt.

Scar is fresh off his first death, still reeling from being hunted down, and Cleo and Grian are telling him he can’t stay.

“You’re not one of us,” Grian says, and they’re just playing a game, but Scar is confused. He’d been invited, hadn’t he? But then Cleo had taken it back.

“Scar!” Bdubs is a distance behind him, sitting atop a horse and calling his name urgently. “Scar, we need to talk to you.”

Scar goes, and hears whispering behind him, something about zombies and spreading. It makes a bit of nerves flare up in his stomach, but he ignores them. He is far enough removed from the past that hearing the word won’t send him into hysterics. He’s even recovered enough that he can handle the sight of a few zombies, even if his heart rate elevates until they’re gone. He’s better, he is.

Bdubs takes him back to the others, and they explain to him what’s been going on. It’s Gem’s task to spread the Boogeyman curse, one by one, to everyone. He suddenly feels a little bad for trying to burn the book earlier, because this sounds like a good time. Causing some chaos, killing some people, making each other laugh — it's what they’re all here for. It’s why they play the game.

(There’s a small but persistent inkling of unease living behind his rib cage at the fact that they’re comparing themselves to zombies, to an apocalypse, but he ignores it. It’s not important enough to mention it, and he doesn’t want to ruin everyone’s fun.)

They get Etho, and Gem praises him for it, and Scar tries not to compare the fortress the others are defending to the bunkers he used to raid. His brain still makes the connection, as much as he wishes it didn’t. The memories trickle in slowly, making him more and more on edge as the day goes on. It will be over soon, Scar tells himself. Then he can rest, and go back to being better.

Joel has a zombie spawner to farm XP. Scar has used it, has been inside it. He’d been expecting zombies, then. He doesn’t expect it when Joel throws down sixty-four zombie eggs in a row.

The thin and fraying thread tying him together snaps.

Everyone is screaming and yelling, running, chasing after Joel. There are zombies as far as he can see, in groups and alone, groaning and gurgling into the night. It fills his ears, wraps itself around his mind like a vice, catapults him back to when he was just a kid, fighting the world with his teeth bared and no one at his back.

Everything goes fuzzy and distant, the noises muffled beneath his heartbeat and heaving breaths echoing endlessly in his ears. He slows to a stop, chest heaving and eyes wide, skin going cold and numb with terror. Nothing makes sense. Everything is wrong.

There’s something in his hand, and he looks at it, panicked tears prickling at his eyes. He’s holding a sword, and an anguished, confused noise rips itself from his throat. Where’s his gun? Guns are better, guns are safer; guns mean he doesn’t have to get close.

The moaning of the undead is growing louder, they’re coming for him, and he stumbles forward with gasping breaths, eyes flitting around wildly as he searches for a place to hide. The ground is filled with craters, zombies in every direction, and he blinks desperately to clear his blurry vision, pushing forward with all the desperate agony of a man living on borrowed time.

He thinks he hears someone call his name, but it can’t be real, it’s just a memory, it’s just his stupid, persistent hope manifesting itself at the worst possible time. He has to get back to his base, his bunker, but nothing looks familiar, no direction looks like the correct way to go—

He runs anyway, passing by a giant stone statue and weaving around holes in the ground and slashing blindly at anything that looks like it’s moving. He spots a tower in the distance, oddly shaped and oddly colored, but a structure nonetheless, and he runs for it. The zombies are here and they never left and he never left and he runs.

He only makes it halfway.

There’s a zombie in one of the craters, and Scar doesn’t see it, is too wrapped up in his tunnel vision, and it grabs at his ankle as he walks by. He hits the ground, hard, his knee hitting first before everything else. He hears a sharp crack, and knows it’s broken.

He twists his head around wildly, tearing his leg out of the zombies cold grip with a yell of pain, dragging himself out of reach just in time for others to bear down on him. His vision becomes a swirling kaleidoscope of hands and teeth, of skin and claws, and he opens his mouth and screams.

(He won’t know until later, but everyone near spawn hears it. Everyone hears it, and freezes, and turns to look. It sounds like pure terror, like the final cry of a dying man. None of them will ever forget it.)

He swings his sword wildly, slashing and scrambling to get away, but his knee hurts and they’re pushing him down, he can’t get up—

He hears yelling, distantly, but that still can’t be right, no one else is here, no one else can save him—

Scar rolls to the side, and falls into one of the craters, dirt and pebbles sprinkling down on top of him when he hits the ground with a dull thud. He shouts through clenched teeth as the landing jostles his leg, but still pushes himself up and back until his back hits the solid side of the hole. Grass and dirt is still clinging above him, forming somewhat of an overhang. They can’t attack from directly above. Scar grips his sword in violently shaking hands and waits for the hoards to find him.

He still hears the voices, but he shouldn’t be hearing voices, he’s alone here, he hasn’t heard a human voice not his own since he was six, and he closes his eyes tightly for a few seconds, willing himself back to reality. Something drops to the ground in front of him, and Scars eyes wrench themselves back open, landing on the shadowed figure of a person coming his way. He has both hands on his sword, and he points it at the approaching zombie.

It speaks. It says his name.

“Scar,” the figure says, a deep, frantic concern in their voice. “Are you— What happened? Are you okay?”

The cloud that had been blocking the moon slowly drifts away, and Scar gets a good look at the figure — the person — in front of him. He’s human, he’s alive, and Scar knows him, he knows who it is, but he can’t be here, he’s not supposed to be here. This is the world where Scar is young and alone. No one else belongs here.

The past and the present collide angrily in his head; he doesn’t know what’s real. He doesn’t even know this person's name. The person is crouching a few feet away, empty hands extended imploringly, worry plain in his eyes. Scar’s eyes catch on his shirt, black with gold accents, and can’t help but think that something’s missing. A letter, he thinks, but can’t quite remember which one.

It doesn’t matter. He’s not really here.

He must’ve said some of that out loud, because the man’s face drops, something heartbroken pinching at his eyes. Scar feels bad, and doesn’t know why.

“I’m here, Scar,” says the man, voice trembling. “I’m real. You’re okay.”

The man is a liar. Scar shakes his head, a trembling exhale shaking his tense frame. The sword remains steady.

“No,” Scar says, voice strained and breaking. “No, you— you can’t be. Not here.”

“Scar—“

“Stop saying my name,” Scar begs. “I don’t know— I don’t know who you are.”

It’s only half true. He recognizes him, knows he’s a friend, but his brain is rebelling against the very thought that he could exist in a place like this. In the place Scar grew up. No. Everyone was either dead or undead, here. Everyone but Scar. This person with sad eyes and gentle hands does not belong.

“Impulse!” Another voice is calling down at them, and Scar looks up, catching a glimpse of bright orange curls and mismatched eyes. Nothing makes sense. “Is he okay?”

The man — Impulse — looks at him, and then looks up. He can still hear the zombies, everywhere and far too many.

“Get Grian,” Impulse says, and the person above them freezes for just a moment, and then disappears.

Grian, Scar thinks. Another name he knows. Another name that doesn’t make sense to be hearing in a world like this. His mind scrambles, his eyes sting, the zombies groan and shriek above him. Nothing makes sense.

Grian will, some distant and muted part of him says.

Grian will.

—————————

Grian is on top of their cobblestone tower — laughing at the sheer amount of zombies and chaos in the distance — when Gem comes tearing up the slope at high speeds, something frantic and determined in her eyes.

“No zombies allowed!” Grian calls down, grinning, though it dims when she looks up at him. There is something serious and desperate about her gaze.

“Grian!” She slides to a stop at the base of their castle, face dotted with sweat and panic. “You need to come with me, something—“

“You’re just going to kill me,” Grian says, confused and faltering. “Why would I—“

“It’s Scar,” Gem interrupts, a harsh concern clipping her words. “He’s— Something’s wrong with him, a zombie got him and he screamed.”

Grian tilts his head. “Scar screams all the time.”

“Not like this,” Gem says, sounding genuinely shaken. “Not like this, Grian, please.”

She doesn’t even have her sword out, standing at the base of their fortress with wild eyes and a desperate plea. Something’s wrong with Scar. Something bad enough that everything else has gone out the window. Gem’s not here asking him to play the game. She’s here begging him to pause it.

“Okay,” Grian says, a new bubble of panic growing in his chest. “I’m coming, let’s go.”

Gem nods at him when he emerges from the tower, and then she takes off running, leaving Grian with nothing to do but follow. It seems to take forever to get there, weaving around hoards of zombies and craters left over from the wither attack. The other server members are mowing through the hoards with swords and axes, and what seems to be extreme prejudice. They all look a bit shaken. The coil of nervous worry in Grian’s rib cage grows.

Gem stops them at a random crater, and nods. “Down there,” she says, and then throws herself back into the fray, cutting through any undead limbs that reach for her. The surface is a battlefield.

Grian drops down, and Impulse turns to look at him, grim concern pressing his lips thin. He looks relieved when he sees him, and Grian looks behind him and realizes why.

Scar is there, hunched against the wall and shaking like a leaf, sword held in trembling hands and fearful eyes flickering between them. Grian’s stomach drops, and he inhales shakily. Scar looks lost, and so very, very afraid. He’s never seen him like this.

“It’s the zombies,” Impulse says, quietly. “They set him off somehow, I— He barely recognizes me.”

Grian remembers, distantly, Double Life. Scar had fallen into a pit of zombies, and they had both died that day. He hadn’t quite understood why their shared heart had been beating so fast for so long after; he never knew the reason for Scar’s shell-shocked eyes above his trembling smile when they met back up. He still doesn’t know why, but now he knows for sure. Scar is afraid of zombies.

“Get rid of them,” Grian says, equally hushed, even though everyone has already started. Impulse just nods, one hand on his sword, and climbs out of the crater. Grian turns to Scar.

“Scar,” Grian starts, voice carefully relaxed. “You’re safe, okay? We’re getting rid of them.”

Scar shakes his head, moonlight catching on the tear tracks on his face, and Grian aches.

“You can’t be here,” Scar says, turning pleading eyes towards him. “You— You can’t be here.”

Grian gets a little closer, and crouches down, doing his best to appear non-threatening. “Why not, Scar?”

“It’s wrong,” Scar says, sounding all of ten years old, terrified and unsteady. “I’m supposed to be alone, you can’t be here.”

“Why are you supposed to be alone?”

“It’s just me, it’s always just me,” Scar insists, and then he inclines his head upwards, to where the zombies are still groaning. “Me and them.”

Grian swallows, feeling out of his depth and worried. The only reason Scar would have a reaction like this is if it had once been true. Once upon a time, it really had just been Scar and hoards of zombies. And in Scar’s mind, that’s where he was. He’d never left. Grian’s stomach rolled.

“We’re not there,” Grian says, still unsure where there was. “We’re in Secret Life, Scar. We’re playing a game.”

Scar shakes his head again, violently, and starts trying to stand up. A muffled whine escapes his throat when he puts weight on his knee, but still he stands. Grian wants to grab him and shake him and then wrap him up in several blankets.

“You’re hurt,” Grian says, a note of pleading in his voice, hands hovering, wanting to reach out. “You shouldn’t be walking, Scar.”

“I’ve walked on worse,” Scar says vacantly, and twists around to look behind him, making a noise of frustration. “My backpack, where’s my— I need—“

“Backpack?” Grian repeats.

“I need morphine,” Scar says, voice tight with pain and panic. “I need to get out of here. You need to get out of here. You can’t be here.”

Morphine. Scar’s plan is to numb the agony of a broken knee and run on it anyway. Scar says it like it’s normal, like there’s no other choice, like this is the only way. Maybe it was, once. Grian wants to scream and cry and pull the universe apart with his hands. Instead, he grabs Scar’s wrist in a gentle hold.

“I am here,” Grian says, soft but firmly still, and Scar freezes. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Grian tugs at his wrist making Scar meet his eyes, trying to ground him. Scar blinks at him, hazy and distant, chest heaving. Grian reaches out slowly, and takes the sword from Scar’s hand.

“Do you remember,” Grian begins, “asking me to be your friend?”

Grian remembers. Scar, with grey skin and crimson eyes, hiding a sheepish grin behind a bouquet of poppies and lilacs. Something like recognition flickers across Scar’s face, and Grian keeps going.

“We had a llama called Pizza.”

“I blew you up on accident.”

“The moon was falling and you built a rocket upside down.”

“You were my soulmate, of course it was you—“

“You made fun of our bread bridge.”

“You were actually a pretty good mayor, you know.”

Grian lays their memories out between them, holding Scar’s wrist gently in his hands, and doesn’t stop until Scar looks at him and finally seems to see him. His face crumples, awareness flooding his expression, and Grian lowers them both to the ground when Scar’s knees give out.

“I’m sorry,” Scar says, voice cracking, and he gives an awkward little laugh that makes Grian’s heart twist sharply. “That doesn’t— That hasn’t happened in a while.”

“It’s okay, Scar, don’t apologize,” Grian says, adjusting his grip to hold Scar’s hand loosely. “Do you feel better?”

“I feel like I ran a marathon,” Scar answers, exhaustion in his tone. “I don’t— Thank you. For bringing me back.”

“Of course.” Grian hesitates. “…Where did you go?”

Scar takes a shaky breath, eyes going tired and sad. Grian’s eyes catch on a scar peeking out beneath his collar.

“I was stuck in a hardcore world when I was a kid,” Scaf says eventually, resigned. “I was the only player in a zombie apocalypse. I had to… let myself die, to get out. But I spent years there.”

Grian stares, quietly horrified. He imagines Scar, so very young and so very alone, running on broken limbs and killing things that once were people every day, and still finding the willpower to survive for years and years. That Scar had grown up in a world without light and still come out of it with a personality bright enough to blind them all — it was nothing short of miraculous. Brilliant, mischievous, stubborn Scar, with enough skeletons in his closet for all of them and the uncanny ability to make them laugh until they were out of breath.

“You never said anything,” Grian says, careful to keep any accusation out of his voice. He understands. He still wishes he had known, somehow.

“It’s not fun to hear about,” Scar says, and stares at his broken knee. “And it’s…not easy to talk about, either.”

“I know,” Grian says, squeezing his hand. “But if you ever want to, I’m here. I don’t want— I don’t want this to happen again.”

The zombie sounds have died down, the others having done their damn best to kill them quickly. It’s quiet but for their breathing, slowly slowing down.

“I’m a lot better,” Scar says, brow furrowed. “That was just, a lot more than I was expecting.”

“It’s okay,” Grian says. “It’s… You don’t have to be better all the time.”

Scar glances at him, his mouth lifting just a bit, looking a little lighter. “Thanks.”

“And you can talk to us.” Grian smiles back. “We can help you when it’s hard.”

Scar lets out a long, slow breath, the shake in his hands finally down to something manageable. Grian is relieved for all of two seconds, and then something mischievous flickers in Scar’s eyes. Grian sighs, because he knows what’s coming—

“That’s what she said,” Scar says, quick and unapologetic, and Grian smacks his shoulder with his free hand. Scar laughs, and Grian just rolls his eyes and grins.

Yeah. He’ll be fine.

#hope u like it if u read it !!!#my writing #goodtimeswithscar #grian #the crafting dead #desert duo #gtws #secret life smp #actual post

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drowned-captain · 1 month ago

Text

The Rebound - Pitfighter! Vi x Fem! Reader - Ch.2

A/N: Hey y'all! Happy New Year. I just want to thank you guys for the love on my first chapter! It's very encouraging and lets me know that I'm doing something right, haha. Anyways, I greatly appreciate you all for checking it out and I look forward to continuing the story between you and our favorite edgy girl. Btw if anyone knows the name of currency in Zaun, please let me know. A quick search brought me to a reddit comment that said the currency might be called 'cogs', so until I know what it is for sure, I'll be using the word 'cogs'. Enjoy!

MDNI (18+ only)

TW// Mature themes like violence, drinking, possible drug use, infidelity, mean/triggering thoughts

Word Count: 3k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The ache of a hangover was Violet's usual alarm system. Her eyes fluttered open as she brought her hand to her forehead as her face twitched into a grimace. Despite the lack of lighting in her room, the lights of Zaun peeking through the slits of the makeshift curtain was enough to make her eyes squint. Her legs were elevated on her bed, the rest of her body on the floor. She slowly rolled over and stood up, empty glass bottles around her clinking and wheeling away with every nudge of her body.

A low groan erupted from her mouth when she picked herself up all the way, and she staggered a bit on her way to the bathroom. Oddly enough, she did not throw up from the hangover as she normally does each morning. The headache was still pretty bad, but compared to the past few weeks it seemed like one of the more tolerable ones. Did she do anything differently last night? She ran the sink and looked at her reflection as she tried to remember any unusual forks in the road that interrupted her continuous downward spiral. Maybe Loris took her home earlier than usual-- she couldn't remember too well.

Violet splashed her face with water, not bothering to clean off the entirety of the black smudges of makeup on her face. Instead, she just used yesterday's makeup smears as a guide for today's makeup. When all was done, she dragged her feet back to her room, kicking away empty bottles. She jumped slightly when her boot kicked something that did not sound like glass. It sounded way different. Her eyes tracked an empty plastic cup that was in the middle of rolling underneath her bed. She bent down to pick it up before she lost interest in it. With furrowed eyebrows, she rotated it in her hand before bringing it to her nose. It didn't smell like alcohol, so what gives?

Her mind fog cleared up slightly when she remembered a blurry image of (s/c) skin and (h/c) hair. A bitter feeling. The shape of that stranger disappearing into the crowd. A plastic cup of water.

Instead of tossing the empty cup aside like she has countless of bottles, she set it aside on a higher surface. Before she walked out of her little apartment, she glanced back at that cup once more before leaving.

Violet's self-destructive cycle continued. Pregame before the fight, whoop ass, party, go home, tear up the punching bag, pass out. Pregame, fight, hookup, home, scream, wake up. Pregame, brawl, drink, go home, keep punching the bag, look at the plastic cup, wake up. Look at the plastic cup, fight, hookup, go home, punch it out, watch the dust collect on that plastic cup, wake up. Pregame . . .

It had been a few days since you went out to that club/bar thing. When you had woken up the day after, you had a nasty headache and the longest episode of nausea you've had in a while. That alone was enough to deter you from going back, but the temptation lingered and grew as time passed. All of your ex's stuff that you swore you'd give back or throw out? It's all still there. It's all still painful, and you want to get away from it. Yesterday you were about to start the cleanse with throwing at least one of their shirts out of your window, but instead you captured the scent of them on the fabric and couldn't bear to let it go. Not having the mental strength to get rid of at least ONE item pissed you off.

You really wanted to go back to the bar. The mind-numbing poison was just so delicious, and it took away a lot of the mental anguish. If people pour alcohol on flesh wounds to prevent infection, you can too. After all, your heart feels absolutely necrotic. One more trip tonight shouldn't hurt, right? Even if the last time ended on a somewhat bitter note because of that Vi girl. But it's okay! A person as wasted as she was definitely wouldn't remember such an interaction.

You had your own little cycle. Lay in bed, neglect your needs, cry, scream, wake up. But as the days passed, your food supply was running dangerously low. You had to search every inch of your apartment for spare change to pay the month's rent, so you don't have enough for food anymore. You could have sold your ex's things, but if you couldn't even toss a shirt out of the window then there was no way you'd be able to hand their belongings to a stranger.

Your ex-partner was the main provider of your needs, and you were unemployed. Finding a secure job that pays well in Zaun was as easy as unbaking a cupcake, let alone finding a job that was not shady as hell. Your ex was the reason you were able to even have a nicer apartment in the first place. It was far from being as nice as the idea of a Pilty's boiler room, but an apartment like yours is considered luxury in most Zaunite eyes. But like hell you would try to find a job like theirs-- a shimmer distributer. Too much competition, and it would take ages to become one of the big dogs like the ex is. Not only that, but the thought of contributing to ruining lives makes you feel a bit queasy.

Nonetheless, you were no stranger from doing what you had to do to keep yourself alive. You have to eat.

You are now walking the streets of Zaun, keeping your head low as usual. You lurked around the market area of the city as you tried to remember your old shoplifting strategies from when you were a kid. Unfortunately, there were not as many people around as you'd like to use for cover in case you get caught by any vendors. To help yourself blend in with most people, you wore some striped pants that most Zaunites had made a trend out of. Furthermore, you wore a face cover that hid the lower part of your face, and had applied dark makeup around your eyes to help you conceal your identity.

You stuffed your hand in your pocket and felt what little currency you had, which was just half of a handful of cogs. You slowly walked by a little shop selling a variety of fruits. The vendor was busy conversing with a couple of people. A part of you started to hesitate, but you knew that it was either act now or go hungry.

You grabbed a fruit, quickly hiding it away in your bag. Luckily, the vendor didn't notice. You let yourself walk around some more, disappearing into an alleyway to let some time pass before trying again. Your adrenaline was through the roof! It had been about three years since you've last stolen something. A part of you missed this thrill, so the guilt wasn't hitting you as hard as you thought it would.

You came back around, noticing another vendor that sold some bags of fish. This one would be a bit harder. That little stand was not busy, and the vendor seemed wide awake. You take a deep breath and walk confidently to the stand.

"Welcome. How many pounds of fish meat are you asking for?" asks the vendor. The young lady smiles at you, brushing her thumb against the large blade in her hands. She can't be that much younger than you, which is a good thing for your scheme.

"Hmm," you place your hand under your chin in thought, scanning the display.

"Everything is fresh enough," the vendor says with a chuckle, "the further to the left you get, the more meat there is." She fans her arm across her products, and you take note of the bigger bags on the left. Too big and too risky.

"You catch these yourself?" you ask, smiling at her.

"I do. My father taught me everything I know," she says proudly.

"Your father sounds like he really cares about you to teach you such a valuable skill. You must make him very proud! I wish I knew how to fish well enough to catch this many!" Your voice is very sweet, and your charm seems to be working because the girl's body language has relaxed tremendously.

"It's really fun. I can go on and on about all the strategies I've learned, but I don't want to bore you with all that," she muttered.

"No, no, please do tell! You might help me out one of these days."

"I mean I could, but that would mean less business for me!" she jokes. You make yourself laugh at her teasing, but you honestly do not care right now.

"It's so refreshing to speak to someone so kind here," she says, "Everyone is so on edge all the time."

"Tell me about it," you agree, sweat beading at your forehead from your internal tension.

"Anyways, have you made your choice?"

"I think I might have enough for that big bag over there," you point to one of the bags on the leftmost side.

"Ah, thirty-five cogs."

Of course you don't have thirty-five freaking cogs. You reach your hand into your pocket, only grabbing just a few.

"I might have enough--" you hold out your hand to give it to the vendor, but you make yourself drop them. They roll on the counter, and you can hear some of them fall to the ground.

"Oh, crap! I'm so sorry!" you gasp.

The girl bends down to grab some of the fallen cogs, "Oh, no worries!"

While she is distracted, you snag one of the smaller bags of fish and quickly stuff it into your bag. The girl stands back up with the fallen cogs in her hand, "Uhm, you only gave me seven cogs."

"What? Hold on, let me check my pocket for more," you shove your hand in your pocket and grab three more cogs.

"Dang. I think I overestimated how much I have."

"Ten cogs can get you a smaller bag," she waves her hands over the right side of the stand, "but it also has older meat in it."

"It's better than nothing," you utter, handing her three more cogs reluctantly. The downside of this ploy is that you have to lose a bit, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

She hands you one of the smaller bags, and you nod a quick thank you. As you depart, you hear her voice yell in a demanding tone.

"Hey! Wait a minute!"

In the past, those words were a telltale sign that you should run now. But for some reason, maybe because it has been a long time and your confidence isn't at its highest, you freeze.

She already caught up to you, and you turn to face her. Her blade was held securely in her hands. Your legs are tense, like they knew they should run but you cannot.

"I couldn't help but notice something," she says, her eyes narrowing at you. Your eyes dart to her weapon, and on instinct you slowly clutch on to your bag of loot.

"You're a fellow Jinxer!" she says, lightly bumping your stripe-panted leg with her shoe. You breathe a sigh of relief, but you mask it quickly with a laugh. You were finally able to look at this girl properly. She looked like an ordinary 'Jinxer' -- dyed blue hair, striped pants, and bold makeup.

"Yeah! Totally!" You reveled, looking down at your pants.

"I couldn't tell at first because I could only see your upper half, but I had a feeling you were cool like that!" she squeals, "Jinx is literally the best thing to ever happen to Zaun. Piltover will never catch her. Am I right? Her wanted posters are so iconic that I bet it'll end up on a flag one day," she gushes.

'Wow. I had a feeling that she was annoying, but she might be worse than I thought.'

"Yep! She's too quick for them! And... stuff."

Looking past this annoying girl, some man was in the middle of checking out the unattended stall. He was grabbing some of the bags and beginning to scamper off with his pillage. As if this vendor girl had some sixth sense, she throws her cleaver in the direction of the stand, and it hits the man in the knee. The man yells out, falling to the floor.

"What's your name?" she asks.

Your eyes went from watching the man try to crawl away to looking at the merchant in front of you, "My name? It's Caitlyn," you lie. Your brain threw out the first name that came to mind; the one that Vi called you for some reason.

"I hope to see you again, Caitlyn," she beamed, "Now if you excuse me, I have a crook to take care of."

And with that, she leaves you alone. You let go of another breath that you didn't know you were holding.

"Holy shit," you whisper to yourself. To think that could've been your kneecaps or something. You make a mental note to avoid the fish stand for a long while.

As you make the journey back to your apartment, keeping your haul close to you, you notice advertisements on the walls for The Pit. You walked past the fliers, and after thinking for a moment, you take some backwards steps to read it again. You tear one of them off of the wall and stuff it in your pocket before continuing on your way home.

When you finally get there, you sort through your two bags of fish meat. You cringe slightly at touching the raw meat, slightly disappointed that you were not able to snag at least one more bag. This amount would probably last you a week at most. When you were done cleaning them and putting them away, you return to your room with the fruit that you took. The skin of the fruit crunched in your teeth as you emptied your pockets. You had about eight cogs left to your name.

The folded paper slipped out of your pocket when you tried to search your pockets for more cogs. You pick it up and read it over again as you eat the fruit.

Your eyes glance over at the scarce amount of currency, then back at the paper. Your mind went to the scraps you call 'this week's ration' that you had to steal, then you focused on the paper in your hand again. You heard the man's scream in your head, being able to picture yourself getting cleaved in the legs too. Again, you read the paper. You look around your comfortable apartment. Back to the paper.

You trace your finger to the list of the names of the contestants, trying to figure out which name sounds the toughest. Which one of these names sounds like a winner?

The name 'Vi' catches your attention. The memory of her trying to peacock herself to you by proclaiming herself as "top of the food chain" or whatever comes to mind. Her knuckles were pretty damn bloody. Her name wasn't as intimidating as all the other show-offy names, but what the hell.

You quickly change your clothes, shedding your Jinxer disguise. The area The Pit is in is quite the distance from your area, so you make haste. You grabbed the last of your cogs in your hand, holding them close to your heart before taking off. You had to evade a lot of crowds as you ran through the city, fearing to be late for the fight.

Luckily, you made it pretty early to the arena. Your dark makeup from earlier was smeared down your face, your chest heaving from all the running. This is not your most graceful moment.

You waited in a queue to place your bet, bouncing on your heels anxiously as you contemplate changing who you're betting on. Your ears are picking up on people discussing who and why they are betting on specific people. But you frequently hear the name 'Vi' among the people, which is a little reassuring. You look into the palm of your hand at your last cogs, a worried look on your face.

'I guess I'm really going to bet the last of it,' you think to yourself.

Then, you're up next. You walk up to the person behind the counter.

"Let me guess, you're placing a bet on Vi," says the man. You blink at him, wondering how he knew. He makes a gesture with his hand around his face, "Your makeup. Lots'a her fans got that whole smeared black makeup kind of look."

Oh.

You place your eight cogs on the counter. The man looks up at you with a raised eyebrow, "That's it?"

"Yeah." You answer shortly. The man stifles a laugh while he picks up the currency, shaking his head as he grabs a ticket for you and says, "Okay then."

You follow the rest of the crowd to the seating area. You take a seat in the far back of the arena while you wait for the match to start, which seems like it's only a matter of minutes. With your leg bouncing in anticipation and ticket clutched in both hands, you say a soft prayer to whatever god will listen.

For a moment, you wish you never placed a bet in the first place. The only memory of Vi you have is her being completely wasted. How in the world is a person like that a frontrunner? You should have just grown a pair and sold your ex's things. If Vi loses, you might as well make the most of your last month in your nice apartment before fleeing from the area completely to avoid being put on some kind of hitlist for not paying rent. Or worse: ask them to come back.

Before you know it, the announcer's voice is filling the entire arena. The fight has officially begun.

End of Ch. 2

Ch. 1 Ch. 3

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Disclaimer: Please do not pour alcoholic beverages on wounds.

If you are struggling with alcohol use, I found a website that can help you find resources here.

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Taglist Cupcakes: @ren-ren23 @captain-crabbo

#vi arcane #vi x reader #vi x you #vi x y/n #arcane x reader #arcane #pit fighter vi #arcane x y/n #arcane x you #arcane vi x reader #arcane vi x you

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cinnajun · 2 years ago

Text

ᵕ̈ ೫˚∗: world's cutest couple | kgv

summary | in the middle of lunch with his friends, gyuvin gets a text from your best friend saying that he needs to come to the library because you’re sobbing uncontrollably and she can’t get you to stop.

genre | kim gyuvin x gn!reader, fluff, university!au, there’s like fake angst

wc | 1.1k

a/n: hehe heeee heheeheeee

ft kep1 youngeun

USUALLY, when Gyuvin ate with friends, he tended to ignore his phone until the meal was over. He felt like it was rude to ignore his friends for the sake of whatever was happening online, and whatever people had to say to him could wait.

That didn’t mean he didn’t check his notifications, though. If there was an emergency, he would miss it, and that likely wouldn’t end well.

So, when he gets a text from Youngeun, your best friend, who never texted him, he automatically assumes the worst. As far as he was aware, the two of you were supposedly sitting in the library, studying for the test you had in your general psychology class. You were supposed to be there all day, no exceptions, even when he’d begged you to come hang out with him that night.

Obviously, he was going to read it. If Youngeun was texting him, something was happening.

‘Hey man,’ the text began, ‘hope I’m not interrupting anything.’

The typing bubble popped up in the corner of Gyuvin’s screen, and he started to filter out whatever Ricky and Matthew were talking about in favor of focusing on whatever Youngeun was about to tell him. ‘Your partner is crying uncontrollably in this study room and I can’t get them to stop. Please help. 3rd floor room 316.’

Immediately assuming the worst, Gyuvin hopped up from his chair, slinging his jacket over his shoulders. Ricky and Matthew looked up at them, halting their conversation when Gyuvin went to pick up his bag.

“What’s up?” Ricky asked, tilting his head. “Everything good?”

“Something’s up with [First],” Gyuvin replied, pushing his chair in. “Gonna go see what’s up. Sorry, guys.”

“No problem, man,” Matthew replied, shaking his head. “Hope everything’s okay.”

With that, he was half-jogging out of the dining hall, cringing at the temperature change when he walked outside. There was a light breeze that accompanied the setting sun, and he wasn’t wearing enough layers to fight off the chill it brought.

As he fast-walked to the library, Gyuvin’s mind began to wander from bad to worse, wondering what in the world could’ve gotten you going. You hadn’t turned in any big essays recently, nor had you applied for an internship that you could’ve been rejected by—so, he started to fear the worst. Maybe your cat at home, who he hadn’t been able to meet yet, had died, or maybe your childhood friend was diagnosed with cancer—it had to be something not good.

Gyuvin was so stressed out that he bypassed the elevator, walking straight towards the awful stairs that would lead him to the third floor. He practically ran up them, skipping two or three stairs at a time as his heart practically pounded out of his chest. When he finally made it to the room Youngeun said you were in, he threw the door open, panting from the amount of ground he’d covered in maybe 3 minutes.

Youngeun was sitting across from you at a table, leaning back in her chair with her arms crossed. She looked exasperated, a vein practically popping from her forehead. You, on the other hand, were face down on the desk, obviously crying from the way you jerked every couple of seconds.

Gyuvin wasted no time in walking in, dropping his bag next to the door and rushing towards you. He knelt next to you so his head would be level with yours, resting a hand on your back as comfortingly as possible.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, to which you sat up. Your face was red and puffy and tears were bunched in your eyes, dripping down your face and onto your shirt. Before Gyvuin could do anything else, you shoved your phone into his face.

On the screen was an Instagram post, from a popular account among students at your university. They posted anonymous comments from the student body, most of which were positive, and a vast majority were quite funny. He’d followed it himself, but he wasn’t exactly checking every single post they made.

“What—what’s this?”

“Read it,” you choked out, slamming your head down on the desk again. Gyuvin grabbed the phone from your hands, scanning over the black text in front of him.

‘There’s a couple I always see around campus that are soooo cute. Like, seriously, the world’s cutest couple. They’re campus celebrities to my friends and me, and we (not creepily) take pictures every time we see them together. The next slide is our favorite picture of them.’

Curious, Gyvuin swiped, and a small gasp escaped from his lips. It was a picture of the two of you from about two months ago, during a small university festival that had become a tradition over the years. Quite frankly, it was a very beautiful picture of the two of you—and a moment he was glad to see someone captured. Ricky had picked up a water gun and began spraying both of you, to which Gyuvin had picked you up to use you as a shield. You were laughing and so was he, and all he could think about was how beautiful you looked in the picture.

Then, when you let out a dejected sob, he realized what he was here for. “You’re crying over this?” he asked. You picked yourself up from the table again, sniffling and looking at him with the saddest eyes he’d ever seen.

“They called us the cutest couple in the world, Gyuvin,” you said. The moment you got that out, you hiccuped, holding back another loud cry. “And the picture. Oh my god, the picture.”

“It’s a nice picture,” he agreed, putting his hands on your cheeks. “I’m glad you’re so moved by the truth, honey.”

Youngeun snorted, spinning her pen in her hand. “Yeah, the truth. Sure.”

Gyuvin would have to comment and ask for them to send him the picture later. For now, though, he had to stop your crying and make sure you didn’t waste a bunch of your “precious” study time crying over something that he already knew.

thank you for reading !

tags: @happysmileybee @wtfhyuck

#cinna.zb1 #zb1 x reader #zerobaseone x reader #zb1 fluff #zb1 scenarios #zb1 drabbles #zb1 imagines #zb1 oneshots #kim gyuvin x reader #gyuvin x reader #kim gyuvin x you #gyuvin x you #gyuvin fluff #gyuvin drabbles #req

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badasgirl · 1 year ago

Text

oh you want me so bad

bada lee x fem!reader

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bada had the longest day of her life and she needs her girlfriend immediately. you just happen to be the best girlfriend in the world and you let bada do whatever she wants.

genre: established relationship, smut, fluff, slight humor maybe ?

warnings: this specific work is 18+, so ageless blogs/underaged blogs who interact will be blocked, reader is somewhat shorter than bada, reader is called bunny a lot, CLINGY!BADA, no caps on purpose (booo ik terrible grammar).

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒── ──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

smut warnings: dom!bada x sub!reader (sorry i’m weak 🧎‍♀️), making out, fingering, bada with the STRAP, marks, crying but it’s good tears?

author’s note: this was not proofread and i was fighting for my life today so please be easy on me. i combined two reqs for this, so thank you to the anon for this request!! reqs are now CLOSED, but please be patient i’ll open them back up soon enough :)) 🎀.

word count: ~2.4k

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒── ──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

today was a long day for bada. first, she woke up at the ass crack of dawn, 6:00 a.m., to get ready for street woman fighter filming. she eventually met up with her crew before going into the building to film around 8:00 a.m. filming for the show wasn’t easy however, bada was stressed the entire time. she went through a good 15 different emotions every hour. luckily, she was able to push through thanks to the thought of coming home to you. after the 10 hours of filming were over around 6:00 p.m., she immediately had to catch a taxi and hurry over to justjerk studio to teach a class in an hour. she was beat, but the girl loved dancing more than anything.

the whole day all she could think about was you, her pretty girlfriend. you flooded her mind any time she tried to think of anything or anyone else. she missed you so bad, all she wanted to do was kiss you, mark up your pretty body, and maybe make you scream her name til your throat was raw, you know just cute things!

after bada was finished teaching, she thanked all of her students before grabbing her bag and running out of the studio. she took a taxi back to your shared apartment and couldn’t help but to get excited about seeing you. while yes she had constantly been texting you all day, it had been hours without seeing you and if bada’s being real with herself, she can usually only go a good 10 minutes without you before getting “y/n deprived” as she calls it.

she paid the taxi driver once they reached the apartment complex and thanked him for the ride. bada was very tall so, of course she used her long legs to her advantage and she ran into the complex and got in the elevator quickly, she needed you really bad. she eventually reached the door of the specific apartment and typed in the passcode—your anniversary date—as quickly as she could.

you heard the passcode being typed in and you immediately got up from your place on the couch. you knew it was your lovely girlfriend coming home, so you went to the door to greet her. once she finally got in, bada threw her bag to the side as she saw you standing their waiting for her with a bright smile. you instantly ran up to her and wrapped your arms around her waist, hugging her tightly. she returned your hug quickly, wrapping her arms around your body.

“i missed you so much bunny, i thought i was going to die” bada said dramatically while fake crying to emphasize how miserable she was without you. you giggled at your girlfriend’s actions before pulling away from the hug so you could look at her pretty face that you missed.

“i missed you too you big puppy” you joked with her while reaching up to ruffle her hair. you just thought she was the cutest when she was acting clingy and missing you. unfortunately for you though, you didn’t know what truly was going on in bada’s mind at that current moment.

bada finally registered what you were wearing once you pulled away from the hug; you were in her oversized t-shirt with your hair tied up. you didn’t even bother putting on pants because the length of the shirt covered your ass just enough. bada however could immediately tell you didn’t have any on and that sent her right back to the thoughts she was having earlier.

you noticed bada just staring down at you not saying anything, just slightly biting her lip. you chuckled to yourself as you realized exactly what she was thinking. your girlfriend was so easy to read. you knew exactly when she was happy, upset, feeling clingy, and especially when she was feeling needy.

“ohhh you want me sooo bad…” you dragged out your words as you took your right pointer finger and dragged it across her jaw. you attempted to tease her knowing how that works her up easily and oh did it work.

bada easily grabbed your waist with her large hands and turned you so quickly before you knew it, she threw you against the wall. carefully though, as her priority was to make sure you were never hurt. you looked up at the tall girl smirking up at her enjoying the close proximity between you two.

“of course i want you sooo bad bunny” bada mocked your tone of voice and choice of words from earlier. bada then moved her head to be right by your ear before whispering so close to your ear you could feel her lips move.

“don’t be fucking stupid now, i’m crazy over you” bada whispered with seductively with authority. your breath hitched as you heard her voice in your ear. of course you loved to tease bada, but you knew at the end of the day she had complete control over you.

bada moved her head back to look you dead in the eyes. she bit her lip at how submissive you looked already, she loved the effect she had on you. she took one of her hands that rested on your waist and moved it to grip your chin gently. she pecked your lips softly to tease you and you immediately wanted more whining at the fact all she did was peck you.

the taller girl chuckled as she said “good to see you’re just as needy as i am bunny, now will you be my good girl and ride me tonight?” you quickly nodded your head looking up at bada.

“yes yes i’ll do anything for you bada” you said desperately. bada barely even did anything and you were already desperately needy and ready to be at her service all night.

bada smiled at you before taking your hand in hers and leading you to your shared bedroom. she immediately got to work taking off both of your clothes, she honestly needed you so bad that she didn’t want to waste time with clothes. once you both were naked, she guided you to lay down on the bed and she began to place herself above you, legs in between each other’s. the girl then began to kiss you deeply. you sighed contently and kissed her back just as deeply. your kisses with her were filled with passion and need for the other. bada began to bite and suck on your bottom lip, loving the feeling. god she loved kissing you, she almost didn’t stop until she felt you begin to grind yourself against her leg that was placed between your heat. she could feel how wet you already were from just the teasing earlier and kissing.

bada reluctantly pulled herself away as she got off the bed to grab her strap from the closet. you whined her name as she left, not wanting to spend a moment away from her. you couldn’t see it, but she silently laughed at your whining as she was getting herself ready. she came back with the strap fully attached to her and you couldn’t look away, she looked so enticing with that giant piece of silicone strapped to her beautiful body. the sight made you weak in the knees and you almost started whining again, however bada was quickly back on the bed and already tracing her fingers across your inner thighs. she then made you spread your legs open so she could have full access.

“you’re already so wet bunny, still have to make sure you can take me though…” she trailed off as she looked at your pretty soaking wet cunt. she took her fingers and gave you time to relax as she immediately slipped two inside of you. you whimpered at the feeling as bada was giving you no mercy. she fucked you quickly with her two fingers before adding a third one and curling up. the girl already had you seeing stars and she was just prepping you. she kept hitting that spot that made you crazy, you whined out to her as you were feeling too good.

“b-bada i’m going to come if you keep doing that, you should s-stop” you struggled to tell her between your labored breaths and high pitched whines. she looked at you as she continued to finger you at a quick pace. she actually needed you to come so you could be extra ready for her.

“who said i didn’t want you to? come for me y/n, come all over my fingers you needy little bunny” bada commanded, her voice dripping with lust. you immediately came around her fingers as you moaned out her name. she pulled out her fingers slowly and looked at you in your eyes as she used your cum to coat her strap. your eyes could barely leave the sight of how good she looked doing that. how is it possible that bada is able to look so attractive doing anything? the girl in question then got herself on the bed and laid down.

bada looked over at you and told you “now get on top and ride bunny.” that’s all you had to hear for you to immediately straddle her. you grabbed the now wet silicone and lined it up with your entrance. you slowly began to sink down on it, you couldn’t help but to moan at finally feeling full again. you loved when bada pulled out her strap because it let you feel even closer to her. once you were sat down fully on the 6 inches of silicone, bada moved her hands to grip your hips so tightly that you could definitely feel her nails dig into your skin. there were definitely going to be marks, but that was your favorite part. you smiled at your girlfriend as you began to move slowly. you ground your hips around in circles, lifting up every once in a while enjoying the pleasure it gave you.

bada looked up at how beautiful you looked as you rode the hell out of her. your hair starting to get loose, your boobs bouncing at every movement you made, your cute face scrunching up in pleasure, and the pretty sounds that left your mouth sent bada into heaven. she honestly could get off to your voice only, she probably has. every now and then, bada too would let out soft whimpers and moans as the friction from the strap was stimulating her clit.

“god baby you’re so fucking perfect like this, i could come just from having you ride me like this fuck-“ bada said somewhat breathlessly.

as you kept riding her, she kept getting closer and closer. both of you were so close to coming and bada could tell. the dominant girl pushed you down by your hips to keep you fully down on her strap. she didn’t allow you to move up and down anymore, you were only allowed to grind yourself into her.

“that’s my good girl, use those hips- fuck fuck you’re so good” bada praised you as she threw her head back in pleasure, bottom lip in between her teeth as she attempted to have some control over the noises that left her body. it didn’t work very well though because you could hear her moan deeply and it only turned you on more.

you began to cry from the immense amount of pleasure, the whole room was filled with sounds of your wet pussy, skin slapping, and both of your moans. bada smirked seeing you cry because her, because of the pleasure she was able to give you. you were at your limit as you continued to move your hips quickly.

“ a-ah gonna come, bada please fuck can i please?” you begged her not wanting to orgasm without her permission. hearing you beg is what sent bada over the edge, you don’t know how but her grip on you managed to tighten even more.

“i’m going to come too bunny, come with me like the good girl you are yeah? mine, you’re my good girl” bada babbled as she felt her orgasm approach. you cried out with a loud scream of her name as you came first. you shook violently on top of her as your orgasm ran through you and bada immediately came after seeing that. she moaned out a string of curse words mixed with your name.

once you both came down from your high, bada managed to move you off of her strap and her. you whined slightly feeling the silicone leave your body, but bada hushed you while praising you for doing so well and kissing your forehead. she laid you down next to her before stripped herself from the strap. she tossed it to the side quickly and then turned to her side to cuddle you and hold you closely. you felt so tired yet in a state of bliss and happiness after everything. the best part was being with your girlfriend afterwards as she clung onto you.

“baby as much as i love cuddling we should sho-“ you were cut off by bada whining dramatically. you chuckled at her childish actions before turning your body in her arms to face her. she looked down at you with puppy eyes and a giant pout on her face. right now, she didn’t want to spend a single moment without you in her arms.

“just 5 minutes please y/n? just cuddles for 5 minutes then i guess we can shower…” bada attempted to negotiate with you. she’s so lucky you’re in love with her because you of course agreed to her silly little deal. she squealed with happiness as she held you closer once you agreed. neither of you could stop smiling at the other, safe to say you both were very in love.

“i love you my sea” you said to bada softly, voice filled with nothing but love and admiration for your girlfriend.

“i love you most my bunny” she replied back while placing a soft kiss on top of your head.

#bada lee #bada lee x reader #bada lee fluff #bada lee smut #bada x reader #swf 2 #swf2 #bada lee x fem reader #bada lee fic #bada lee imagine #bada imagine #gxg #gxg fluff #gxg smut #gxg imagine #gxg scenarios

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the-universal-sun · 3 months ago

Note

what if instead of stan punching ford when he was branded he regressed

I love this idea! And sorry it took so long, I could only see this request on mobile and not my computer for some reason

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“Ahhh!” Stan screams, the pain in his shoulder was like fire scorching his skin. He clutches at his shoulder, he’s not touching the burn but he can feel the heat radiating off of it, coming in waves. He whimpers, all the fight leaving him, unwitting tears leaking from his eyes as he stifles a sob. It hurts so bad, worse than anything he’s been through. He hates this, he hates the pain, he’s tired of the pain. He doesn’t know why this is affecting him so much, because it was Ford who caused it? But, Ford didn’t mean it, did he? His brother, his big brother, wouldn’t mean to hurt him, right? He rocks himself, almost violently, hoping to at least soothe the torrent in his mind.

“Oh my gosh, Stanley! A-are you alright?” He can hear Ford call out as he rushes over to check, but he can’t bring himself to speak, the pain in his shoulder too great and his tongue feeling too thick. He just moans lowly in his throat, wincing as he feels Ford prod at the edges of his burn. Hearing his brother talk to him without scorn for the first time in a decade is what causes his sobbing, unaccustomed to and sorely missing his brother’s words and presence, He finds it hard to breathe with his tears, he rocks faster and faster until he’s stopped by a hand on his other shoulder. He finally looks up to Ford, throat tight and eyes wet and blurry. Stan doesn’t know what Ford sees in his face, but whatever it is has him gently hauling him up and guiding him to the basement’s elevator. Stan’s legs are heavy, like his tongue, and don’t want to move, so he stumbles a lot, his brother having to keep him steady. He winces, scared to get yelled at again, but Ford says nothing, just tightens his hand around Stan’s waist. The elevator ride is silent, Stan doesn’t speak, he just leans against Ford, thinking about how long it’s been since he’s done this, instead of the pain.

After what seems like forever, they make it upstairs and hobble into a room at Ford’s direction. It’s a bathroom. Stan distantly wonders if there’s hot water, he hasn’t had hot water in forever. Would he be able to shower, with his shoulder? Stan starts to think there’s something else he should be worried about when Ford makes him sit on the toilet, stepping away. He grasps at Ford’s coat, bringing him closer, so scared he’s going to leave him, making him be all alone again. He doesn’t want to be all alone again

“Stanley, I have to get a first aid kit to help and examine you. Your burn is very serious, infection is a dangerous possibility.” Ford tries to pull away again, but Stan buries his head in Ford’s and shakes his head, silently begging for him to stay. “Stanley, please,” Ford sounds exasperated, grabbing Stan’s hands to pull them off, “I need you to-” he whimpers out a vaguely sobbed ‘no’, clenching tighter to the coat. He feels Ford kneel down, his hands bringing Stan’s up, making their eyes connect. He speaks softly. “Stanley-Lee, come on. I won’t be far, the first aid kit is right under the sink here, you can still see me. Okay?” Ford stands up, backing away slowly as Stan lets the coat slide from his fingertips. Stan grasps the end of his brother's coat, still looking at him. He needs this contact, he’s scared Ford will leave and disappear if he doesn’t keep a hold on him. Ford just stares at him, a weird look in his eye, before he steps towards the sink and opens the cabinet underneath, rummaging for the first aid kit. All with Stan grasping his coat.

Ford steps back to Stan and tries to step behind him when Stan panics again, turning to face him. What if Ford leaves when Stan can’t see him?! He’ll never be able to find him then! Stan can feel more tears leak and the ache in his throat and chest get worse at the thought of losing his brother again. He can feel Ford hovering around him before something gets shoved in his lap. He looks down to see his brother’s coat, but wasn’t he wearing this? Stan looks back up, Ford’s hands are hovering right in front of him.

“There, now that you have my coat, I can’t leave. Now can I please see to your burn?” Stan can’t argue with that logic, it’s super cold outside, and his brother’s too smart to go play in the snow with no coat on. Subdued, Stan turns his back to Ford, letting him look at his shoulder. It really does hurt a lot now that he’s not so worried about Ford leaving him. Ford’s silent as he pokes and prods at his burn, anytime he hisses and whimpers in pain, his brothers hand strokes his head, calming him. Stan hears scissors snapping and feels Ford cut away his shirt and jacket. He sniffles, holding back tears, this was his warmest coat, his only coat, and now he’s gonna freeze. Stan brings his legs up the the toilet seats he’s sitting on and buries his face in his knees, using Ford’s jacket to wipe away his tears and hide his face until his burn is fixed up.

It takes forever, but Stan feels Ford finally cover his burn with a bandage. Just in time for Stan to release a big yawn, rubbing his eye with one hand, the other still clutching Ford’s coat. Now that everything’s hitting him, Stan feels really sleepy, his eyes struggling to stay open.

“Stanley, how do you feel?” Ford’s kneeling in front of him again. How does he feel? He feels light, fuzzy, kind of hazy? He doesn’t really know, and he can’t speak anyways, so he just shrugs and blinks slowly. He stands with Ford as he walks over to the door, Stan grabbing his hand and clutching it tightly before he could open it.

“Stanley, really I-“ Ford doesn’t finish what he was saying, he just looks. Stanley yawns again, swaying on his feet. If his tongue weren’t so heavy, he’d ask for jammies and to sleep. Ford must have read or mind, his brother’s so smart, because all he does is softly say something about getting Stan some clothes and getting him a room. He follows Ford as he walks, holding his hand, before he freezes. His bag! Stan’s bag is still by the front door and he needs it! It’s got Poindexter, and he can’t sleep without Poindexter!

He walks to where he can kind of remember where the door was, still holding Ford’s hand, dragging him along and tuning out his protests. He gets to the bag and finally lets go of his brother’s hand, bending down and rummaging through it until he finds and brings out Poindexter. He turns around to show him to Ford, shoving him in Ford’s face.

“Stanley what-Ack! Yes I see it! Very nice-“ Stan shakes his stuffy, Ford’s not getting it! He points to Poindexters glasses and then to Ford’s, trying to tell him that they’re matching. “Y-yes, your-um. Your bear and I both wear glasses, Stanley, that’s very fun. Listen, why don’t you get some pajamas from your bag-“ Stan cuts him off, shaking his head. He doesn’t have any pajamas, just some shirts and pants, nothing he can sleep in.

“You don’t have pajamas? Stanley, I-I…” Ford doesn’t finish his sentence, he looks really sad, which confuses Stan. He doesn’t know why Ford’s looks sad. He shuffles on his feet, clutching Poindexter and Ford’s coat tighter, he really wants to go to bed now. Ford must want to, too because he doesn’t finish his sentence, grabbing his wrist and guiding him to a room with a really ugly carpet. He’s so distracted by the ugly carpet that he doesn’t notice his brother left his line of sight until Ford’s in front of him, trying to get him to raise his arms. He lets Ford move him, too sleepy to protest. Ford dresses him in a cozy sweater, tight but warm and clean, and moves Stan to the couch in the room.

“You can sleep here tonight, Stanley. It’s the only room with a bed right now. We’ll talk more in the morning.” Ford covers him him a blanket and tries to leave, but Stan grabs his hand again. Staring up at him, begging him to stay. He buried his head in Ford’s hand, hearing him sigh. “Just until you fall asleep, Stanley.” And Stan relaxes, happy that Ford’s watching over him, that he’s staying with him and won’t leave him alone. He’s so tired, it doesn’t take him long to drift off, curled up tight against the couch, clutching Ford’s hand, his coat, and Poindexter. He manages to move his heavy tongue to mumble a ‘night-night’ to Ford, and Poindexter, before he falls fully asleep, his eyes too heavy to open any more.

“I’m sorry, Lee”

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justastraymoa · 25 days ago

Text

Unwilling Alpha

Chapter 19

Masterlist

Warnings ⚠️ swears, abo dynamics, mentions of slave trade, mentions of rape, mentions of abuse, mentions of death, fear, manipulation. BDSM sorta since I based Alpha drop off Dom drop or Top Drop.

Nothing within reflects anyone or anything irl. Pics off pinterest.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

“We will stay close tonight. Do an easy practice in the hallway.” Chan said on our ride back to the hotel.

“Not Bin or Lino.” I reminded him firmly.

“I’m just fine to practice.” Lino argues. He sounded ready to fight, and as much as I wanted to beg him to rest, I just looked away. Out the window.

I had caused enough trouble today by letting my Alpha out again. If it got out that I was out of control, I would be the single reason for the downfall of Stray Kids. I needed to get better control. Having Omegas was creating more internal chaos than I expected. On top of no longer being on the Alpha suppressants after so many years. I was a crazy combo of new feelings and instincts. It was dangerous.

I needed to stay hidden until I could control myself better. What if I had acted that way during a concert? With thousands of cameras and fancams watching?

No, no. I would stay in my hotel room until I could better control myself. It was safest for all of us. Even if the hours apart would physically and mentally hurt. We were strong, we could handle it. And it was for the best.

When we got to the hotel I trailed behind the others, unraveling more the closer I got to the safety of my hotel room. I fought the quickening breath and tears welling up. The Omegas couldn’t know. No one could know I was going to lose it again.

I dragged my feet enough that the Omegas left in a separate elevator, leaving just me and Minjun in a second one. The ride was silent. Filled only with my purposely deep even breaths. I could feel his worried glances, but he didn’t say anything.

Once on our floor I swept past everyone without a second glance and locked myself in my room as quickly as possible.

I kept it together long enough to turn on music and get into the shower to cover up any noise I may make. Then I crouched in the tub under the stream of too hot water and heaved out the first of many sobs. I couldn’t stop once I had started. Once I let go of the tight reins I had on my emotions, they all flooded out of me like a raging river. The weight of it all made my legs collapse from under me and I curled into a ball on the bottom of the rub, letting the water scorch my skin and wash away my tears

The guilt over what I’d done, how I acted only made it worse. And they got hurt on my watch to begin with! I’m a horrible Alpha! I only cause trouble; I don’t actually help anything! I don’t keep my Omegas safe and secure.

And I stressed my Omegas out! They actually had to take care of me – that’s how bad of an Alpha I am. Two of my Omegas got hurt on my watch and instead of taking care of them, they had to take care of me!

I heard my phone chime with new messages sometime later, but didn’t even bother to check them. It would most likely be my Omegas and I couldn’t face them right now. I'm so ashamed of my behavior and actions. So embarrassed. How would I ever face them again?

Eventually I pulled myself out of the rub and to my bed, sheets getting wet around me because I didn’t bother to dry off. I curled up and pulled the covers over me. Hiding from my shame. My heart hurt so much, and I felt empty of everything but shame and guilt.

The night passed in small fits of light sleep. Every time I got too deep into sleep my body jerked awake. Almost like that feeling of falling you sometimes get but fueled by my guilt instead. I don’t deserve to escape into the darkness of sleep. I deserve to feel every second of my shame.

I only knew it was morning because my phone started chiming with messages again. The boys must be awake now. Getting ready for another day.

With a sigh I opened the chat and read through the ones I ignored last night.

There was a knock on my door just as I caught up to Linos good morning text. My body twitched on reflex, but I didn’t move or open my mouth to answer the knock. Instead, I watched the texts roll in. Only answering when Channie threatened to get management to open my door.

I didn’t bother to promise Hannie anything. I wasn’t hungry and had no desire to move to get myself a cup of water. I didn’t want to do anything but hide in bed.

I did, however, message Lino back when he texted. He didn’t deserve to feel guilty for anything. This was all on me, not him. I was the one to screw up.

My exhausted body must have finally given in to sleep because I what felt like only seconds later a knock on my door startled me. I was still under my blankets. I hadn’t moved since I got into the bed last night. Not even in my sleep. My head swam and muscles cramped, but I still had no desire to move.

Then my phone went off.

With a groan I slid from my bed. I slipped on an oversized hoodie and loudly unlocked the door before turning back to crawl into my blankets again. I couldn’t look at Chan. I didn’t deserve to.

The door opened slowly a few seconds later when Chan figured out, I wasn’t going to open the door.

“Babygirl?” he called gently. I just pulled the blankets around myself tighter, chest tightening at just the sound of his voice.

There was some shuffling before the bed dipped behind me and Chan molded against my back, his scent immediately filling my senses and easing me against my will. Sand and pine encircling me, embracing me far more gently than I deserved. The tears came unbidden.

“Talk to me baby.” He breathed getting comfortable. I shook my head. How do I explain exactly ow much I messed everything up? How do I voice my shame like that?

“Honey, I promise you it’s not as bad as it seems. Yesterday was an emotional roller coaster for all of us.”

I coughed on a sob and Channie squeezed me tighter, rubbing my arm through the blankets. “I messed up so bad!” I moaned.

“What did you mess up?”

“I let Bin and Lino get hurt!”

“You were the first one there. No one could have predicted that accident. It’s not your fault.”

“I almost attacked the EMTs who were trying to help.” I pointed out.

“You’re Omegas were hurt, and strangers were approaching. That is a very natural and reasonable reaction. And it shows what a good Alpha you are.”

No, I’m not. I caused Bin and Lino to stress. They had to calm me down when they were hurt!”

I felt him nod behind me and his phone went off. There was a pause as he presumably answered whatever texts were coming through.

“Yes, they did help you calm down. Just like good Omegas are supposed to. You all did exactly what you were supposed to do.”

“It’s the second time I went Alpha in public. It looks bad on you. On all of you. To have an out-of-control Alpha like me.” I rubbed at my dripping nose. “I need to stay locked up in here where I can’t cause any more damage.”

This time Cahn pulled the blanket from my head and forced me to turn to look at him. I went easily enough, too exhausted to fight against him. He cupped my cheek and searched my eyes intently, thumb swiping over fresh tear tracks.

“You did an amazing job yesterday!” He emphasized each word, pushing it into my very skin. “You took care of your injured Omegas perfectly! You were there for them and let the professionals do their job as well. That’s amazing for such an intense situation! You didn’t make us look bad at all; I promise. We are all do proud to be your Omegas.”

I shook my head and looked away. He was just trying to make me feel better.

But he wouldn’t have any of it.

“Even when you went Alpha on me and Lix, you were in complete control. You weren’t out of control either time and you had perfectly valid reasons.”

“You have to say all this. You’re just trying to make me feel better.” I pointed out.

“I am trying to make you feel better. Because you are in some sort of Alpha drop. But I’m also being completely 100% honest with you. I promise you. I learned my lesson on lying to you. Never again.”

I chuffed out a laugh despite myself. The lies about my safety and the airport incident seem like so long ago now. Even if I still had nightmares.

Chan smiled softly at my laugh. “You are an amazing alpha. Perfect in every way for us.” He smoothed at my unbrushed hair. “Please don’t hide away from us. Let us proudly show you off to the world. Our trophy Alpha.”

I chewed on my bottom lip. I must admit that I feel a lot better now. With Chans strong arms around me and gentle hands stroking me it was hard to hold on to the shame and desire to hide. And his scent filled me, my chest, and chased away the painful guild that had made a home there.

It was impossible to hold onto something so negative when faced with such positivity, even if my brain kept telling me to. And Chan was making sure I was surrounded on all sides with positivity. Leaving no cracks for negativity to creep its way in.

“Alright, come on. Let’s get you some clothes.” Chan patted my hip and stood up, pulling me with him.

“Where are we going?” I asked as I put on the warm sleeping pants he handed me.

“You are in need of some serious pampering, and I know just the Omegas to help you with that.” He handed me a shirt to change into and scooted a pair of slippers towards my feel. The entire time he was texting out messages on his phone. Presumably to the others

I got dressed, but I still had doubts. My brain couldn’t let all of it go, and without Chan holding me they had an easier time sneaking back in. “Are you sure? It’s safer if I stay in here.”

He put his phone down to meet my eyes again. “With respect, no it's fucking not. Let’s go.”

I snorted and let him pull me gently from my dark room into the too bright hallway.

Before my eyes even adjusted to the light, I was lifted off my feet and cradled into a strong chest I immediately recognized. “Be careful! Your Arm!” I warned, worried about Bin holding my weight with a bad arm.

“Then stop wiggling around!” He countered. With a sigh I stilled, sinking into his warmth.

“We got everything! Where we doing this?” Hyun asked from behind us.

Chan opened his room door. “In here, get her out of her room.”

“What are we doing?” I wondered.

“Spoiling you.” Min answered.

“Taking care of you.” Hannie corrected.

“No, Min was right.” Lino put in. “We are completely spoiling you. Like you deserve.” He scratched lightly at my back, causing goosebumps to rise on my skin.

“I call setting up the bathroom!” Ayen said rushing by with an armload of stuff.

I let them all rush around in chaos while losing myself in their scents. I had deprived myself for so long. Even though it made sense to hide away at the time, the logical part of me realizes now how much harm completely cutting myself off from them did. Not just to me. But everyone around me who cares for me. It’s just really hard to recognize that in the moment.

“Did you eat?” Bin asked into the top of my head.

I blushed in embarrassment and shook my head. I hadn’t felt like eating today and yesterday was such a late start and anarchy. I only ended up having a single coffee over the last two days.

Bin sighed and clicked his tongue at me, though he didn’t seem shocked.

So, while Ayen did whatever set up, he was doing in the bathroom Chris, Bin, and Hannie set me up with hot food and plenty of water, all watching intently to make sure it was all consumed.

While I ate, Lix set up a nice smelling bowl of hot water, rose petals, and herbs to soak my feet in. Him and Hyun sat on the floor using soft cloths to slowly clan and massage my feet, calves, and shins. Both looked quite content and happy as they worked.

I felt very awkward. “Guys, this is too much. I’d be perfectly fine cuddling with you and watching a movie.” Having them literally at my feet was dangerously close to giving me the guilt feelings again.

“We have gone almost 24 hours without you. Which was extremely hard.” Hannie pointed out, though I didn’t see what that had to do with Lix and Hyun washing my feet. Hannie started kneading on my shoulders. “But we also really messed up. You were suffering all alone. And we just left you to.”

I leaned back a little to nuzzle into his cheek and offer comfort. We could go back and forth all night on who the guiltier party was. But I’d rather just learn, heal, and move on from it. But his comment did remind me of a question I had earlier.

“Channie, what’s Alpha drop?” I inquired between bites.

Chans brown furrowed. “They didn’t teach you about that? What the signs are for a drop?”

I shrugged. “I was hiding. Taking supplements. As far as anyone knows I was just another Beta. I was taught Beta things.”

Understanding washed through the room. “I forget sometimes that you were on suppressants.” Lino sounded less than pleased.

“It's not safe out there for an Alpha.” I reminded him softly. They had been relatively sheltered from it all as trainees, idols, and Omegas. Intellectually they understood it was dangerous to be an Alpha, but behind locked doors and security guards, they didn’t ever really feel it. They had no reason to.

“Alpha drop can sometimes happen after an Alpha - you – comes back to a neutral position after having more of their instincts come to the surface.” Channie began to explain, sitting on the edge of his bed near me. He plucked a loose thread on his blanket. “It comes out different for everyone. Anger, depression, confusion, guilt, sadness. Feelings of inadequateness. Sound familiar?”

I nodded. “So, it happens randomly. How do I know when it’s happening then?” I mean how do I know the difference between normal feeling down and Alpha feeling down.

“We should have known that’s what this was. Or at least guessed. Bin answered. He rested his forehead on my shoulder.

“Now that we are more aware of how you may react, we can all keep a closer eye on any potential symptoms or triggers.” Lino nodded seriously, eyes sharp.

“The sudden heightened emotions likely triggered this drop. It was a terrifying time.” Hyun observed. There were several affirmative hums and nods. And Bin slowly flexed the hand of his injured arm almost absentmindedly.

The bathroom door swung open, revealing a proudly smiling Ayen and a waft of new flowery smells. “It's ready.” He announced.

Seungmin jumped up immediately. “I'm washing her hair!”

“But I set up the bathroom!” Ayen whined. I could swear I saw him stomp his foot.

“Ayen, you can do the face mask later.” Chan compromised before an argument could start between the two youngest members. Ever the respected leader, they both settled down and accepted the compromise.

Lix and Hyun towel dried my legs and feet, and Minnie offered me his hand.

The bathroom took my breath away. Ayen did an amazing job on such short notice. Pink flowers, petals floating in the steaming bath water. Candles lit everywhere, a tub tray with raspberries and one of those crystals you use on your face. A bath bomb slowly disintegrating on the bottom of the tub.

I wore a towel and slowly lowered myself into the hot water. I lay with my head and hair available to Minnie to wash. Immediately I felt myself almost melt into relaxation.

Mins hands in my hair and on my scalp were unbelievably caring. Careful and gentle as he wet my strands and worked the first round of shampoo through my hair. He hummed quietly while he worked, and I was reminded of when I did this for him. When I first came back and after bonding, when the wounds of me leaving were still so fresh. I had told him about doing this for my mother. Now he was doing it for me. Expertly working products through my hair and even giving me an ear and scalp massage as the products worked their magic.

Neither of us spoke. The only sounds coming from the water, his soft humming, and the rest of the group talking lowly in the bedroom not far away. We were both content to just enjoy the moment as it was.

And as awkward as it felt to be so pampered, I had to admit I was also enjoying myself immensely.

I have never been treated to this kind of thing before. I was usually the one doing the pampering. I was almost never the pampered. It was strange, but an enjoyable change. Even if I still preferred to do the pampering instead.

As he finished rinsing the final time, Min leaned forward and rested his forehead upside down on mine, thumbs rubbing over the shells of my ears. “You can’t just disappear and shut us out. We all need each other, but we absolutely need you.” He breathed. His hair tickled my face gently, moving with my breathing. “You steady us like none of us ever knew we needed. You center us. Make us better. You’re our linchpin, our rock. We were so anxious and lost today without you. It was scary.”

I reached up and took his hand in mine, pulling it so I could kiss the inside of his wrist. He wouldn't lift his head to show me his face, but I understood. He was very vulnerable right now. His emotions from the last day and even the day before laid out in front of us both. He wasn't so good at this kind of thing, which made it all the more impactful now and any time he let this happen. He thought deeply about what to say, what to reveal. It made my eyes sting along the edges.

"I'm sorry. I thought I was only punishing myself." I spoke just as quietly as he did, keeping the conversation between only us. "I thought I was protecting you. All of you."

"Protecting us from what? You?"

I shrugged, knowing he would sense it if not see or feel it. I no longer believed that I needed to lock myself away, but I remember the feelings vividly and the reasoning behind the actions I had taken.

"The only part of you we need to be protected from is your stupidity."

I sucked my teeth and sat up, knowing full well what he was doing. "Don't be mean!"

"Your decision-making skills suck."

"I decided to be your Alpha." I pointed out.

"You are bound to make a good decision every once in a while."

I huffed and pouted dramatically; arms crossed in front of me.

Min chuckled and offered me his hand again, bath robe ready in the other hand. When I was out of the tub, he handed me a stack of clothes and left me alone to change.

I had an item from several members of the group. A shirt from Han, a sweater from Lix, Ayens sleep pants, Minnes socks. I am sure I would have stuff from the others too if there was anything else to wear.

Back in the bedroom Hannie waited, bouncing slightly, holding various hair supplies. I sat cross legged on the bed, Han kneeling behind me and Ayen using my thigh as a pillow. The TV was playing lowly now. Some talk show no one was really watching. Instead, they talked amongst themselves.

Han lovingly dried and brushed my hair. He oh so carefully smoothed each hair into place. He ran his fingers through my hair several times when he was done. "Wow, your hair is so soft and shiny." he mentioned in awe.

"Minnie did a good job. And Ayen did amazing in the bathroom. And now you are brushing it so nicely. How can my hair not be soft and shiny. It wouldn't dare." I complimented, smiling as Min and Ayen both looked away in embarrassment.

"Guess what's airing tonight." Binnie asked waggling his brows, teasingly.

"New episode of your favorite drama?" I guessed with a shrug as Ayen ruined my perfectly placed hair by putting a hairband in it so he could slather my face with a bitter smelling mask that tingled pleasantly.

"We can't get my dramas here." Bin pouted slightly at this which made me believe he was missing several episodes. "No, this is even better. This is your first interview!"

I froze. It had never occurred to me that any of us would ever see the interview I stumbled through. I was relieved it was over and done with, now Bin is freaking bringing it back to life like some twisted Dr. Frankenstein!

I glared over at Bin. "We don't ever need to watch that. Or anything I do, really."

Lino wiggled the remote with an evil smirk. "Oh, we are watching it. I wanna see this Omega you are so friendly with."

This again? I thought we had already solved this issue. "Didn't we already talk about this? I promised to not hug any Omegas without your permission."

"Doesn't mean I don't want to see him. And judge him mercilessly."

"So, you're punishing me."

Linos's brow scrunched and he got serious. "No. But I will thoroughly enjoy your reactions as we watch." With that he flipped to another channel, and I slumped resigned to my fate.

Channie patted my knee. "From what little I saw you did very well. No need to worry."

"Like you don't get embarrassed and shy." I grumbled. "You forget I was a fan before I met you. I've seen the fan videos."

"Don't remind me!"

"It's exceedingly cute when you guys get all shy and red. Makes me get cuteness aggression."

"We feel the same way about you." Hyun thew back from his spot on the floor in front of the bed.

In his lap Lix nodded. "I constantly want to squeeze you."

I dropped my head, remembering at the last second that I had a mask on. I almost made a gross mess. I heard several chuckles over my groan.

"We should live stream this." Hannie pipped up excitedly.

"No, we should fucking not!" I nearly shouted.

"We are so doing it." Min stated pulling a tablet out.

"STAY would love it." Chan tried to persuade me.

"I was up all-night crying and currently am wearing lounge clothes and a face mask. No."

"Hey! Thats our stuff you are wearing! And you look cute as hell!" Han protested hugging me tightly from behind.

"Too late - It's on!" Lix called waving a hand to shush everyone. I sighed in relief. At least partially saved. For now.

As Tad and Markus started their introduction - all over the top yelling and expressions and gestures - I pulled Ayen into my lap so i could hide behind him. I clutched at the back of his shirt and whined high pitched as anticipation grew deep in my stomach.

The entire room erupted when the hosts introduced me. Han excitedly smacked at my arm repeatedly and squealed. I hid further behind Ayen, pulling my legs in to be smaller. The face mask was being cooked off my face I was so red and hot with embarrassment.

"Y/n, you look so cute! Holy fuck!" Hyun exclaimed.

"Shut up! Don't comment on it! Fast forward!" I whined. My own voice sounded foreign to my ears, distorted by the television speakers as well as being unused to hearing my own voice.

"Which one did you hug?" Lino demanded.

"Minho! Let it go!" I snapped.

"I just want to put a face to the awful scent!" He defended himself. "And possibly throw him from a tall bridge.

"It's Tad. Though they are both very touchy." Channie answered Linos's question. He didn't sound too pleased, and I realized he was jealous.

"It was one hug! And I apologized!" I sighed sick of being made to feel guilty again and again for this. I escaped to the bathroom to remove the facemask, trying to tune out my horrible voice on the TV speakers.

"You really did do well, considering we didn't really coach you on interviews or anything." Minnie sounded genuinely impressed. eyes glued to the screen.

I scrunched my nose rejoining the others. "It's passable. I was pulling shit out of my ass."

"I'm continuously jealous of how effortless you make it look. Everything you do looks so damn easy!" Hyun was distracted as he spoke, hands mindlessly twiddling Lix's shirt sleeve.

Before I could settle back in my spot Chan reached over and pulled me onto his lap, wrapping his arms around me and resting his chin on my shoulder. "I know you hate this, but you will get used to it. And you really did do really good. I'm very proud of you." He spoke lowly, only for us, and he squeezed me tighter. Trying his best to comfort my embarrassment.

I sighed. On the TV Lix and Channie had now joined me and the hosts. It was probably my imagination, but I could see the relief on my face. I was slowly hiding myself behind Chan, only adding to the conversation when I had to. Lix and Chan had naturally taken over the flow and attention. Chan even seemed to be helping me hide a little.

Now that I had realized how jealous he was of me being so close and being touched by another Omega, I saw him helping me hide as a way for him to get me away from the hosts so they could no longer touch me. Still, it worked out in my favor.

"When do the pictures come out?" I was very curious on how that will turn out since I messed up the vibes before it started, then even more by subduing two of my Omegas on camera and in front of witnesses.

It was like Chan could read my mind and knew that I was really worried about something else. "Don't worry. The photographer was excited about the photos, and I made sure our manager knows to double check the photos before they post to the online article.

Of course, he had already thought ahead and saved my ass. Fixing my mess up so I don't ruin all their hard work. I relaxed, knowing the Stray Kids team would handle it.

When the premiere was over Bin and Lino stole me from my warm relaxed spot on Channie's lap.

"We get to do your nails." Binnie wiggled in happiness as he pulled my foot into his lap. He had a really pretty dark purple.

"I'm doing your fingers." Lino informed brandishing a light purple. He rested my hand on his knee.

I blinked as both boys got really intent on their work. Lino was so close to my fingers I could feel his breath as he pained. Bin, meticulously careful as he painted my toes. It made me giggle.

"Hold still! I only have one hand!" Bin snapped.

"Sorry! You two are just so serious its adorable!" I explained trying to get myself under control.

Minnie moving caught my eye and I looked up to see him aiming his phone at us to take a picture. I smiled for the photo, then mimed for him to send me the photo. He nodded looking amused.

"He's totally going to post that photo." Ayen whispered leaning close to me. I hid a smirk.

"What photo?" Lino asked as he finished the first hand and moved on to the second. I just shook my head as my phone notifications dinged, then a separate ding as a text came through.

Lino gave me a suspicious look. I avoided his eye and carefully picked up my phone. I didn't want to smudge Linos hard work.

Ayen was right. The notification was of a new post from Minnie.

It wasn't just of Lino and Bin. He had photos of the entire night. Cute photos of all of us. Including me hiding behind Ayen as the interview was on the screen in the background. You could see the mask on my face. The caption explained 'Spa night for Y/ns interview premiere! Isn't she cute all embarrassed?'

I made a face at Minnie but hearted his post anyways before moving on to make my own post about tonight. I didn't take photos of the kids, but I did of some of the things they did for me

At the beginning of the night, I was feeling horrible. I had been in the darkest place mentally I ever remember being in. the instant comfort I got when I finally let Channie in was mind blowing now that I could think back on it. And even after mine and Chans talk, the scents of my other Omegas only brought more comfort to my soul, body, and mind. Being surrounded by them fulfilled an Alpha need that I had starved since I locked myself up just over 24 hours ago now. I am so grateful for each and every one of them.

Channie clapped and rubbed his hands together a short time later. "Time for bed. We have a concert to rest up for." He announced.

immediately Lix crawled up the bed to me. "I'm not leaving! i call a spot next to Y/n!" To prove his point, he proceeded to make himself very comfortable on the spot next to me. Han wordlessly claimed my other side.

Chan sighed in defeat as the others made themselves comfortable either on one of the beds or even the floor with lots and lots of cushions. I gave him a shrug and wiggled under the blankets in between Hannie and Lixie.

"None of us are getting a good night's sleep." Chan grumbled getting into his spot behind Lixie.

"Speak for yourself. Imma sleep like a rock with my Alpha right here." Han said as he snuggled into my arm, gripping it with both hands.

Lixie snaked one arm under my shirt for skin-to-skin contact, hooking his hand around my lower ribs. He shoved his face under my shoulder.

Chan flung a leg over Lix, foot resting on my leg. He wrapped around Lix, and we all settled in to get some sleep. Surrounded by only the comfort of each other and our mixed scents. Tomorrow would be my first concert experience with Stray Kids. I couldn't mess it up.

BONUS OMEGA GROUP TEXT

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Unwilling Alpha Taglist: @xxeiraxx @hanniemylovelyquokka @breadedloafs @songleepark @f1ln4dr3cl16mv33 @hyunjinhoexxx @kayleefriedchicken @vietjeb @hityoulikebahng @juju-227592 @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @royal-shinigami @bangchansfavoritenoona @straykidslvr @bookswillfindyouaway @h0rnyp0t @Svmmerstime @jennibahng @kpopandmusicpassion @jasmin-loves-k-pop @cookey-lock @possum-playground @demigoddreamon-blog @rei-reia @dreamerwasfound @jasmin-loves-k-pop @ms-flowergirl @princess-sunshyn @technicallyimportantsweets @mbioooo0000 @jisungs-iced-americano @bluesoobinnie @threeopossumsinacoat @katchowbbie @Kkamismom12 @whoreforeverythingspice @alienbyhan @tinyelfperson @bitterbluemorningstar @Jiniretsleftear

General Taglist @stellasays45 @beebee18 @weird-bookworm @velvetmoonlght

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specterllaw · 2 years ago

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Mommy or Ma'am? - Mike Ross x Reader / Older Brother Harvey

Summary: After a hospital scare, Mike is put on babysitting duty, which quickly turns into a fun morning for you both

Warnings: SMUT, Switch! reader Switch! Mike

Harvey knew getting Jessica to hire you was a bad idea, he thought he could fully trust you though. You were twenty two it was your first real job, even it was just making copies for everybody in the office when needed.

I was going smoothly for awhile until Monday Morning rolled around, Y/n was on edge because not only did she have tests coming up but she also had sports, work, and helping her older brother Harvey keep his penthouse and office clean and neat. She felt like she was losing it, so whenever she was woken up at 6AM to go to the office she wanted to start crying, she hadn't even been to bed really, only falling asleep twenty minutes before Harvey even woke her up.

You were stuck in the copier room, taking stacks of papers from different associates, and partners and just coping them over and over again. It was working smoothly until you dozed off coping papers and mixed up the order of them, now realizing you messed up very important documents your breathing started to shallow. You heart rate was speeding up and you started to feel dizzy and hot, holding onto the table next to the copier tightly you heard somebody's rushed footsteps approach you all before your eye sight went black. "Woah woah woah" Mike said taking in your unusual state holding you up quickly as your body went limp "Louis! Rachel!" He yelled trying to shake you lightly "C'mon Y/n, wake up" He whispered nervously, not knowing what was going on with you, as he saw Louis walking up to the door he took a breath of relief "Stay here with her, I'm gonna call an ambulance and go get Harvey" Mike said urgently, gently laying you on the ground, using his suit jacket as a cushion under your head, waiting until Louis knelt next to you to try and wake you before rushing through the firm "Donna! call 911! now" He said checking Harvey's office only to see it empty "Mike! Calm down what's going on?" Donna asked worried standing up and resting a hand on his chest "I walked in to get copies from y/n and as soon as I walked in, she fell to the ground- where's Harvey?" He asked quickly before rushing to Jessica's office seeing Harvey sitting in front of her desk. "What do you need, Ross? We're having a very important-" Mike cut Jessica off quickly, and rudely. "Y/n passed out, I don't what happened" He whispered, Harvey looked at Jessica and then Mike "Damnit" he huffed standing up quickly rushing to the copier room right as paramedics were coming up from the elevator and rushing to the same room as him.

Whenever you woke up seeing your room empty made your heart hurt, not even Mike showed up to check on you? What even happened? Right before you could decide on what happened you hear the door latch and in rushes Mike and Harvey fighting on who gets in the room first. "Y/n" Harvey sighed sitting on the side on your bed "Don't ever do whatever you did again" He demanded, thinking he was talking about you messing up the copies and files you started to tear up "I-I'm sorry" You whimpered, terrified you might get fired for all of this "For what? I mean..Whenever you feel worked up..come find me..I understand more than you know, y/n/n" he whispered running a hand over your hair to smooth it out "I get panic attacks too...instead of...blacking out..I puke"He whispered, you studied his face, that explained all the mornings before his trials he'd get sick. "Same goes for you then..come find me" You whispered to him grabbing his hand squeezing it "So what happened?" You added on tilting your head "Exhaustion, y/n" Harvey said sternly "Which means, you're taking the next two days off, to rest, recharge" He said turning his head as Mike coughed awkwardly. "Okay kid, I'll let you speak, but I swear if you try anything with my sister I will kill you" Harvey stated seriously and confidently "Okay okay" Mike grumbled raising his hands up in the air before taking Harvey's seat, Harvey taking a step out into the hallway to call Jessica.

"Mr. Ross" You mumbled, you still felt a little sleepy from whatever they gave you but you were desperate to wake up "Ms. Specter" He quipped back running his hands down his pants legs. "You okay, Mike?" You asked softly sitting up to rest a hand on his shoulder "Y/n..I like you" He whispered "More than a friend, more than a co-worker, and I wanna like you as my girlfriend..but I don't want your brother to kill you" Mike added on resting a hand on yours "How long have you felt like this Mike?" You whispered using your other hand to cup his cheek "Weeks.....You're just..so kind and sassy, and the way you give Harvey shit is just...the proud look you have on your face after you make him speechless is adorable" He rambled "I would have you make copies of random words I had typed up just to see you..that's what I was on my way to do whenever I came into the copier room and found you leaning on the table about to fall.." Mike rambled even farther before you giggled and kissed him deeply

"Can you not shut the hell up Mike?" You mumbled against his lips as he resting a hand on yours, jumping away whenever he heard the door open "Excuse me!" Harvey yelled looking at you both "Care to explain yourselves, children?" He asked crossing his arms like a mother.

You were surprised to see Harvey agree to let Mike stay over, he claimed it was just to 'help you sleep, like you claimed' but you felt like he preferred you not to be home. As you walked into your room you smiled as Mike who was already ready for bed, striped to nothing but his boxers, truth was you and Mike had slept together, a couple of times, you both had agreed it was strictly friends with benefits until just yesterday at the hospital. "Ready for me to help you sleep?" Mike quoted playfully "Yes sir" You giggled climbing onto the bed, straddling Mike's lap as you looked down at him "Ah ah, Princess needs to rest, let me do all the work, baby" he whispered before using his hips and body force to flip you two over to where he was hovering over you.

"Look. At. Me" Mike demanded, you were on your third orgasm now, Harvey was long gone at work now and Mike was spending the day inside of with you, specifically taking turns making each other cum, but now Mike had taken it into his own hands to make you forget your own name, and you were 10000% okay with that. You felt Mike's hand grab your chin forcefully having you look up "I said look at me." He growled as he kept grinding his hips, his dick still buried six and a half inches deep inside of you, you moaned loudly leaning your head further back into the pillows, biting your lip as you made eye contact with Mike, whining and moaning loudly again. You couldn't help it, between his shiny lips from going down on you, to the messy ass hair from you pulling on it, or making the sex drunk look with the lazy smirk as his face as he fucked you into oblivion. "F-Fuck Mike!" You whimpered as he spit forcefully down where his cock entered inside of you before rubbing your clit with two fingers. You couldn't take it, you wanted to scream but you knew your brother would get a noise complaint and he'd know what you two were doing, home alone.

"My slut can take it" Mike whispered in your ear as he wrapped a hand around your throat, squeezing tightly as he started to thrust his hips alot faster than he previously was "Fuck fuck fuck Mike!" You screamed trying to close your legs but Mike just held them back open, continuing the sweet abuse on your clit, you could feel yourself getting close to the breaking point of cumming again and you knew Mike didn't care. You gasped loudly arching your back as he started fucking you alot faster, the hand around your throat tightening and it just added to your pleasure. "Cum, slut" Mike growled, not letting his hips falter its pace as he watched you cum, the way your face scrunched up, or the way your pussy squeezed around his cock as tight as possible, or maybe it was the fact you were screaming his name while leaving scratch marks all down his back but whatever it was, he wanted to remember it forever. You started to whimper, his cock moving inside of you beginning to become way too much for you to handle "Hold on baby..Use your words, you know what to say to stop, Daddy's so close though" Mike panted as he kept fucking you, his little whimpers were enough to get you wet yet again, but this time it sparked an idea. Once Mike started to pull out you glared at him, giving him a look that says 'you'll regret that' "Keep fucking me, baby" You whispered grabbing his boxer waist band that was tugged down below his cock, using it to pull him back closer, and his cock back deeper inside of you "Keep fucking mommy" You moaned arching your back, Mike whined before rolling onto his back pulling you ontop of him "Fuck keep talking please, you're so fucking hot" He moaned grinding his hips up "So Mike Ross is also a bottom?" You gasped playfully before holding his hips down "In that case, hips down, slut" You demanded before starting to grind and bounce your hips slowly on his lap, moving his cock in and out of you at a slow pace, making Mike try and sit up quickly, once he realized that wasn't happening he attempted to try and speed up your pace by thrusting his hips up but you just grabbed his hair and tugged it back, using the opportunity to leave hickeys down his neck. "F-Fuck Ma'am" Mike whined sitting up holding you close to him before taking one of your nipples in his mouth, swiping his tongue over it along with gently nipping at it, all making you increase the speed you were going. Mike was a whining wiggling mess, desperate to fuck you again and get his pleasure, he hadn't been a bottom since high school when he fucked the popular girl so this was extremely extremely hot for him.

"You wanna fuck me, baby?" You whispered in his ear dragging your nails down his back "Yes. yes yes yes Mommy, ma'am, yes, whatever you want me to call you just please let me fuck you, I wanna make you cum again" He whined trying to move his hips up against you as you lifted your hips up so it was just the tip inside of you. "Then take whats yours, Mike.." You whispered before kissing him deeply, he flipped you again, fucking you alot more erratic and harder, slamming into your pussy like it was the last time he'd ever fuck anybody. "Fuck!" You both shouted, yours more of a moan while Mike's was a full whine. You gasped feeling him cum inside of you, something you weren't expecting considering he had a condom, you couldn't think too much about it as you felt that familiar knot in your stomach snap as you came for the fifth or sixth time that morning.

As Mike pulled out you watched him stare down in horror and shock "Y/n..The condom broke.." He mumbled looking towards you as you were laying down trying to catch your breath.

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