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ithebookhoarder · 4 months

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Hello hi ! 🤗

Can you do a "bau reacts" when they are undercover in public and about to be found out so the reader just starts making out with them to pretend they are just a couple?

(BAU Headcanons) Making out Undercover

A/N: Mwahaha. Oh, this is a good prompt. Thanks for making me daydream all afternoon. Enjoy my lovelies 😉 Also, as a note, I'm writing the main BAU where I'm at watching it (season 13) plus Luke as he was requested previously 💕

Warnings: Mentions of threat, mentions of weapons, alcohol references, sexual references, implied cases / unsubs. (Let me know if I missed any)

Aaron Hotchner

We know Aaron doesn’t go undercover for most cases, so this would have to be a big case to get him into the field.

This man would be in shock. Let’s be real. He would freeze in place and try to argue for a split second until he realises what you’re trying to do and why - even if you were already together.

As soon as they’re gone though, you’d glance up and see his usual steely glare that tells you you’re in for a scolding once this is over.

However, you’d have to be blind to miss the way he lingers for a moment, holding you close for half a second longer than necessary.

“I feel I should remind you that we are in the field, and whilst it may have worked, I can’t endorse it as a tactic in future. Understood?”

“So I’m hearing that we’re leaving this off of our case report then?”

“Agreed. I don’t need to give Strauss anything else to use to go after us and the team.”

He would roll his eyes and take off after the Unsub, but you’d have to be blind to miss the way he smirks as he goes.

David Rossi

He’d be a little embarrassed but mostly quite smug about the whole thing, even if you were supposed to be undercover.

“Well, I can safely say in all my years in this field I don’t think that’s ever happened to me before.”

He’d also refuse to let you apologise for your actions afterwards either.

One, because he’s kind of flattered.

Two, because he’s been around the block a few times and knows that sometimes you have to do what it takes to solve a case or protect yourselves.

Three, you were supposed to be a couple and kissing is what couples do. He’s only sour because if anything he would have liked to be the one who kissed you.

“Relax about it, would you? I won’t tell you some of the things Gideon and I had to do back in the old days. That was before all this new paperwork and guidelines, so that’s all I’ll say on the matter.”

You make a point of remembering to ask him about that at your next night off over drinks.

Derek Morgan

Derek is always up for anything so I feel like he’d be pretty relaxed about being undercover with you, even if you weren't together romantically. He has no issue playing your pretend boyfriend for one night, and is quick to wrap his arm around you.

Which is why it would be such a surprise to him when it’s you who initiated the kiss.

Derek would freeze for like a second, but only out of shock. However, you know he wouldn’t fight you on it.

The second his brain catches up to his body he would be kissing you back, doing everything in his power to match your energy and sell this kiss.

If anything, you’re going to have to be the one to break away once the coast is clear and remind him you’re still technically in the field and that your team is probably wondering where the hell you are right now - and why you stopped responding to your comms.

“I’m just saying, if we get to do that then we need to be partnered up more often.”

“Yeah yeah, Morgan. Let’s just hope Penelope didn’t see that else we’ll never be hearing the end of it.”

Emily Prentiss

She’s been undercover plenty of times in her life and spent a whole chunk of time actually fake-married to Doyle for an op, so she’d be the most comfortable and understanding if you grabbed her for a kiss - especially if you were meant to be a fake couple.

She’d work it out pretty quickly and would respond in kind, pressing herself against you and running her hands all over you.

“Quick thinking with the kiss,” she’d whisper as she brushed a kiss against your neck.

She’d also know exactly where the Unsub is afterwards too, having kept watch in her peripheral vision.

She wouldn’t even have to break eye contact with you before she informed you, “3 o’clock. He just left out the fire exit.”

With that, she’d be off.

She also probably wouldn’t even bring it up again until you’re both back on the jet. Then she’d be smirking at you across the top of her drink and chuckling to herself.

“Normally I’d insist dinner first but given that we caught that bastard I think we’re even.”

JJ knows about going undercover and it takes a lot to rattle her. She would probably go along with the action, even if she’d stay kind of stiff for a good minute or so.

However, she’s a good agent and knows about maintaining a cover so quickly catches on when you pull her in.

She’d return the kiss, shooting glances out the corner of her eye when she thinks it might be safe to check on their target. If it doesn’t look like they’re buying it, she’ll turn things up a notch and spin you around so that she could take control.

“My gun is under my jacket. Reach for it slowly if he comes any closer,” she’d warn, but thankfully you don’t need it. Eventually they leave, distracted by something else, leaving you and JJ to recover.

After catching your breath, you both take off in the direction your target just left in. You can tell JJ is trying not to laugh about what just happened, choosing to make it funny rather than uncomfortable if you weren't together romantically.

Which means you know she’d enjoy teasing you about it in front of the others, making your cheeks burn as she announces on the jet: “For the record, even though it was a ‘cover kiss’ it was pretty good. Just saying. Maybe you should give Morgan some tips. That way he might get a girl to call him back after a first date.”

Luke Alvez

It doesn’t matter if he’s ex-army or whatever. Undercover is not really Luke’s thing and even then, he is more used to infiltrating gangs than playing house.

Basically, he would be surprised by your actions, despite being undercover together. Like, I can see his eyebrows hitting his hairline so fast, bless him. He’d look like a deer in headlights.

“Woah, sweetheart, slow your roll-“

“- Luke. Shut up and kiss me. Now.”

“I - ok.”

Just like that, he’d take control, turning and pressing you against the nearest wall in an attempt to shield you from whoever was watching. He’d also be such a gentleman about it if you weren't already together romantically, keeping his hands on your waist and pulling away the minute he’s sure the danger has passed.

Even then, he’d wait a minute before letting the two of you move from your position, just in case they come back. He’s your partner and he’s returning the favour for you keeping him safe, even if in an unsuspected manner.

“You good?”

“Luke. Shouldn’t I be asking you that? I was the one who planted myself on you.”

“Potato, po-tah-to. Are they still over there?”

“No. They just left out the back.”

“Then let’s go, partner. Let’s catch this freak.”

Penelope Garcia

If Penelope is in the field then you know she is already hella nervous and out of her element. It doesn’t matter if there was a reason she was needed for this particular assignment, she would just take that as added pressure not to let everyone down.

Which is why I’m sure you’d feel worse about planting one on her - even if it does also help distract her from worrying for a minute.

All I can imagine is her giving her trademark squeal of confusion and surprise, even if you gave her a hasty warning - and apology - about what you were going to do.

She’d be stunned at what was happening and probably takes a minute to realise she should probably try and kiss you back, or at least look less visibly startled about it.

“I feel I should point out how unfair it is that this is permitted as ‘suitable workplace behaviour’ as we’re undercover, yet my flirtatious texts with Agent Morgan are not? I will be writing a strongly worded email when we get back, telling HR they can go shove their-”

“Pen? Hey, focus here. Unsub still watching us.”

“Oh, right. Sorry! Ahem… as you were?”

Also, you know that like a day or so later, once it’s all over, she sends you an email informing you that your new username on the BAU system is now ‘smoochykins’ and she will not change it until it becomes not-funny for her… which will probably be never. After all, Morgan has been ‘Chocolate Thunder’ for the last two years and is still going strong.

Dr Spencer Reid

Spencer has been undercover before and is usually quite calm about it, even if it is faking a date or maintaining a story. Still, despite having to do your jobs, you’d hate to make him uncomfortable, knowing how he feels about any kind of physical contact - especially if you're not together.

As he says, with the amount of bacteria shared by shaking hands you’d be safer kissing … guess it was time to take it literally.

He’d be blushing like a tomato as you grab his jacket lapels and pull him close. And honestly? it’s kind of adorable. As is the way he tries to kiss you back, even if he still takes a minute to remember how to even move his body.

I’m just picturing the Lila kiss in season one and how he eased into that and how stunned / embarrassed he seemed afterwards. He would pretty much be like that, but with a fake smile on his face as he rambled in your ear.

“What was that?”

“I was covering our asses. We’re undercover, remember? We’re supposed to be a couple and couples kiss. Also, I’d thought you know, genius, that kissing and displays of public affection make people extremely uncomfortable.”

“No kidding… Morgan can never find out about this.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice. You got a deal, pretty boy. This is between us.”

Masterlist

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steddiewithachance · 1 year

Text

"You Should Date My Nephew"

"433-6296". Wayne mouthes to himself. He visualizes the little slip of lined paper that's taped to the wall above their phone at home. 433-6296. He could call. But he wont.

Wayne grunts as he lowers himself to sit on the curb outside the plant. He got off work --he pushes up the sleeve of his jacket to check his watch-- 36 minutes ago. It's 3:36 am and god dammit Eddie how many times did he remind the kid to set his alarm. How many times did Wayne remind Eddie that his truck was in the shop and that he'd need a ride home in the morning. And every single time he'd mention it, Eddie responded "I got it old man! I'll set an alarm" with an exasperated eye roll and would go back to whatever he was doing. Wayne has tried calling the trailer a dozen times already and damn that boy for being such a heavy sleeper.

433-6296. Wayne could probably solve his problem with a single call, but that would be completely inconsiderate and borderline inappropriate, so he wont. A gust of cold November wind hits Wayne unforgivingly in the face and makes his eyes water. He pulls a pack of camels from his chest pocket and with stiff, shaky hands, lights one. 433-6296. He could call or he could walk home. The walk wasn't easy in ideal weather when Wayne was fully rested. Right now it was freezing, Wayne didn't have his good jacket, and he just finished an eight hour shift. 433-6296. Fuck it.

Wayne stands up and hurries toward the phone before he can talk himself out of this. It's insane, and he knows the poor kid barely sleeps as it is. Knows from Eddie that he'll pick up the phone anytime Eddie has a nightmare and drive over to talk him out of the bad dream, keep him company, or fall asleep on the floor of Eddie's bedroom so his nephew doesn't have to go back to sleep alone in a haunted home. 433-6296 Wayne dials and waits with baited breath.

The phone rings a handful of times before a quiet voice greets him on the other side of the line.

"H'llo? Eds?"

"Uh hi Steve. It's Wayne?" Wayne says quietly into the phone. Steve seems to sober immediately.

"Mr. Munson? Is everything okay? Is Eddie okay?"

"Yeah no everythin's fine. I'm sure Eddie's safe and sound at home. Look, I'm real sorry to wake you, kid, and I'm sorry to even be askin' you in the first place. I know it's mighty unfair of me to call at this time but uh- My trucks in the shop and Eddie was supposed to pick me up from work forty minutes ago but I think he mighta slept through his alarm. And it's too far for an old man like me to walk. Was wondering if I might owe you a helluva favor if you could pick me up tonight, son." For a few moments there is silence. Wayne worries he has crossed a line, for a brief moment he fears he might have burnt the most important bridge in Eddie's life. He's immediately regretting waking Steve up for this.

But then he hears the distinct rustling and thump of someone putting on shoes.

"Of course Mr. Munson, I'm leaving now. I'll be there as soon as I can." And Wayne is once again floored by this kid's kindness.

"Steve, thank you. I owe you son. Whatever you need."

"It's no problem! I'll see you soon."

"See you." Wayne mutters in disbelief and hangs up the phone.

And to think... Wayne used to hate Steve. The thing about Steve Harrington is that his name is haunted, in a way. And the thing about Wayne Munson is that he's a stubborn son of a bitch who will hold grudges on Eddie's behalf longer than the kid himself will. There were countless days in high school when instead of shooting through the front door of the trailer after school with a devilish grin and music blasting from his headphones, Eddie would turn the knob slowly and he'd drag himself into the house, giving Wayne a small nod before disappearing into his room quietly. Wayne felt like crying or punching something when Eddie came home in low spirits. He knew how evil the kids at school could be, and he knew the names of all the bad ones. Wayne always gave Eddie 10 minutes of quiet before he'd knock on his door and gently ask if he wanted to talk. It was a routine they had. He'd ask and Eddie would say no. But then like clockwork, Eddie would open up about his day later in the evening usually while they ate dinner and before Wayne left for work. He'd complain about all the kids that made him feel bad: Hagan, Harrington, Perkins, Hargrove, Carver, and so many more.

So imagine Wayne's surprise on March 27, 1986 when he briefly left Eddie's hospital room to get coffee and returned to Steve Harrington, the bully son of Richard and Nicole, sitting next to his nephew's hospital bed. It had been a long week of worrying on Wayne's part, and an emotional 48 hours spent at Eddie's bedside, so Wayne had very little patience for whatever was happening in front of him. In retrospect, Steve Harrington was looking at Eddie... sweet and tenderly, even back then. But in the moment all he could think about was Eddie returning from school with hunched shoulders and his head hung low.

"The hell are you doing here?" Wayne asked using his gruffest and most intimidating voice, arms crossed, standing in the doorway. The way that Steve startled was like nothing like Wayne had ever seen. He jumped a foot into the air and folded into himself.

"Oh! Mr. Munson. I'm sorry I didn't know you were around. Just, uh, didn't want him to be alone in case he woke up." Steve had said rising from his seat. When Wayne didn't budge from the doorway or respond, Steve nervously fiddled with the zipper of his jacket.

"How do you know Eddie?" Wayne asked trying to keep his firm tone.

"From high school sir. But also through a mutual friend. Dustin Henderson? They play DND together. Dustin and I brought him in after we found him like this..." Steve lifted his head again gauging Wayne's still stern expression and sighed. "Look, I'm sorry sir I didn't mean to interrupt anything I'll get out of your hair."

And Wayne wanted to be skeptical of Steve, wanted to accuse him of doing this to Eddie, but the truth is that Steve sounded painfully earnest. And there's no human explanation for the tiny bite marks all over Eddie's body. Wayne stepped out of the doorway and let Steve take a few steps down the hallway before calling out to him.

"Hey, Harrington?" Steve turned around quickly, looking back with a startled expression, maybe surprised that Wayne knew his name at all. "D'ja see what happened? I mean d'ya know anythin about what hurt him?" Wayne asked more softly. Steve looked around the crowded hallway, with nurses buzzing from door to door. Steve shook his head slightly, apologized, and continued down the hallway.

But Steve didn't stay out of his hair for long. The kid was exasperatingly persistent in being around for Eddie. And while Wayne kept a watchful eye on him, he was starting to get the idea that Steve Harrington was not who Wayne thought he was. He cooked for, cleaned after, and tended to Eddie, asking for nothing in return. Often refusing to stay for dinner when Wayne was home, even if he was the one who cooked it, because he didn't want to interrupt family time. If he brought food from out he always brought something for Wayne, and never took the money Wayne tried to push into his hands for it.

"Here, Mr. Munson. I wasn't sure what you wanted from the diner, but Eddie said you're not picky so I brought you a burger and fries." Steve had said that first time, holding out a bag in front of him.

"You brought me food?" Wayne asked perplexed.

"Well yeah, of course. I wouldn't have shown up with dinner for just me and Eddie." Steve set Wayne's bag on the counter when he made no move to take it.

By now Steve knew Wayne and Eddie's order at pretty much every food place in Hawkins and Wayne and Eddie were getting real creative at finding ways to slip money into Steve's wallet.

On top of that, almost every other day, Wayne gets home from work to find a maroon bmw parked outside his place while Steve helps Eddie through bad dreams. So what could Wayne be, besides grateful, for Steve Harrington's slightly confusing devotion to his kid?

He's snapped out of his thoughts when said maroon bmw pulls up in front of him. Steve is wearing a pair of wired glasses and his hair is all ruffled from sleep. Wayne opens the passenger door.

"You were waiting for forty minutes in the cold? Why didn't you call sooner?" Steve asked pushing up his glasses as Wayne closes the door quickly. And well... Wayne doesn't know how to respond to that.

"I- I shouldn'ta had to call you in the first place, Steve. I'm real sorry" Wayne says as Steve pulls the car out of park and starts driving back towards the trailer park. Wayne glances over at Steve waiting for the kid to say something. They sit in heavy silence until Steve breaks it by clearing his throat.

"Just... I know you're probably mad at Eddie but- but don't yell at him. He's barely sleeping so he really just needs the rest. It's not his fault." Steve ends on a whisper.

A tidal wave of different emotions rip through Wayne. Affection for Steve's caring nature, immense gratitude that Eddie has someone like Steve in his life, disbelief that Steve would say something like that after being woken at nearly 4 in the morning. Wayne was sitting and staring at the most selfless kid he'd ever met. Steve fucking Harrington.

"You should date my nephew."

Steves eyes widen and the car swerves.

"Uh- s-sorry- what?" Steve stammers.

"If I could choose someone for him, the best option out there, I'd choose you." Wayne says honestly, and he didn't even know he'd been thinking it until this moment. But it's so true. After so many heartbreaks over truly terrible men that Wayne could never see the appeal of, Eddie deserves someone like Steve. Steve face softens before checking to make sure Wayne was being sincere. Steve cracks a smile and chuckles to himself.

"What, you think I'm jokin'?" Wayne asks defensively.

"No sir! Not at all. It's just Eddie and I have been dating for months already. BUT- but- thank you for saying that! It means so much to me and truly Eddie's the best thing-"

"You- what?" Suddenly Wayne is embarrassed. Blushing. How'd he... how'd he miss that? And well, he did have a few moments where he thought the two of them were awfully close for a pair of young men, at least one of which who was openly queer, but they'd been through a lot together.

"Why did no one tell me?" Wayne asks turning his face away from Steve who is desperately fighting a huge grin and losing.

"We thought you knew. We sleep in the same bed every night."

"You do what now? Thought you were sleepin' on the floor" Wayne knows he sounds like the protective dad of a teenage girl and not the uncle to an adult man, but his world was just turned sideways. Steve laughs at that and adjusts his glasses before stopping at the red traffic light which almost immediately turns green because no one is out at this hour.

"Oh well. Good, I'm glad then." Wayne says after his mind has stopped spinning. "And call me Wayne already, you basically live at my house." He punches Steve lightly in the shoulder.

"Okay." Steve agrees quietly. He pulls into Forest Hills and stops the car in front of the Munson's place. "Mind if I just check to make sure he's okay before I leave? For peace of mind?" Wayne opens the door and steps out.

"Oh so now you're playing coy about sharing a bed? Just sleep here, kid" Wayne closes the door and heads towards the house. Steve jogs a little to catch up. When they open the door, the sound of an obnoxious alarm comes pouring out from the back of the house which concerns both of them. But when Steve hurries to Eddie's room he sees that the idiot had fallen asleep with music blasting in his headphones. Wayne stops the alarm as Steve gently tries to remove the headphones from his ears pausing the tape inside.

Eddie suddenly stirs and blinks up at Wayne and Steve looking down at him.

"'S going on?" He croaks, rubbing his eyes. Wayne and Steve share a look before Wayne chuckles and pats Steve on the back once before thanking him and wishing him a good night on the way out. After the door closes behind Wayne, Eddie looks back up at Steve. "What's going on baby? What happened?"

Steve slips into the bed and scoffs, fondly. He curls around Eddie and pulls him into his chest. Once they've settled, Steve pushes his fingers through Eddie's until they're all intertwined.

"Did you forget something, Bambi? Was there someone you had to pick up from work at 3 in the morning?" Steve whispers into his neck. Suddenly Eddie shoots up and dislodges Steve where he was leaning against him. Steve groans.

"Shit! Shit shit shit shit shit"

"Eddie it's okay c'mere. He's home now, it's all good babe." But Eddie just stares at the wall and pulls a hand through his hair. "No one is mad, just come back here. Let's sleep." And Eddie hesitantly lies back down.

"Did Uncle Wayne have to call you? I'm so fucking sorry Stevie." Eddie asks, sounding embarrassed.

"We had a nice conversation on the way home so it all worked out. You're okay. Sleeeeep."

And right before they both fall asleep, Eddie whispers, "Thanks Stevie, love you."

#steddie ficlet #steve harrington #steve x eddie #steddie #eddie munson #wayne munson #Wayne Munson POV #steve/eddie

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clockwayswrites · 5 months

Text

Danny is a minx and I am not responsible for him.

Okay, so, you all voted and I, um, failed? We didn't get to cuddling. There should be cuddling coming? Idk, darlings, this was my third start on this and Danny took over. I've got no say in this anymore. Canon-typical violence, crude language, cross dressing, discussions of prostitution

---

“You think you can fucking play us like that?!”

The shout carried easily through the crisp fall air. Red Hood sighed and changed direction away from his safe house and towards the noise.

“—fuck you up for that! Give us our fucking money back!”

“Fuck you,” snapped back a voice that Jason had come to recognize over the last several months. Right then the words dripped in fake, but damn convincing, heavy Crime Alley drawl, but Jason knew it all the same. “If yous don’t got it, don’t bet it. If yous don’t got game, don’t play it.”

“Yeah, no, I don’t think a little girl like you gets to say how this goes,” a third voice growled.

Hood clung to the edge of the roof just long enough to drop silently into the alleyway next to the dive bar. From the quick glance sent his way he was only noticed by the damn minx, so he leaned casually back against the grimy brick wall and unholstered his gun.

“Right? Yeah! Yeah, bitch! You don’t get to say how this goes!” the first voice shouted again. The guy’s shoulders were squared up as if he was some sort of threat in his overpriced, knock off bomber jacket and ill fitting jeans.

It almost made Jason want to sigh.

Actually, fuck it, Jason gave in and sighed loudly, knowing how it sounded through the modulation of his helmet. Bomber Jacket and his buddy, I Swear This is Real Italian Leather, spun around and then cowered so quick Jason swore they gave themselves whiplash.

“So,” Jason said with every ounce of disinterest he could put in his tone, “how does this go? Because right now, I’m thinking that it’s you two who are gonna be going before I put bullets between your eyes.”

“Right, um, yes Red Hood,” Bomber Jacket cowered and grabbed desperately at his friend’s pleather jacket to pull them out of there.

“And gentleman,” Jason said, making them freeze in their steps, “next time you lose your money to a pretty lady, you leave her the fuck alone about it.”

They nodded frantically as they backed the rest of the way out of alley and then took of running.

“I think you made one of ‘em piss himself,” the minx said, looking from the alley way to Jason with those striking aqua eyes.

Jason just shrugged and holstered his gun. “Probably.”

The short, tight skirt clung to the minx’s legs, pulling up enough with the sashaying steps that Jason had to wonder how everything stayed hidden. He kept still as fingers tipped in bright pink nails walked their way up his chest to the red bat. Aqua peered up from below thick, dark lashes. “And did I hear right? You think I’m a pretty lady?”

“Hair is nice like this,” Jason said brushing a gloved finger through the black strands that just brushed the edges of the chin. “But surprised your cock isn’t hanging out of that skirt with how short it is.”

Danny let out a started laugh, resting his forehead against Jason’s chest for a moment before he patted it and backed up to a more respectable distance.

“Duct tape and body shapers works miracles.” The fake Gotham accent was gone and replaced with the faint Midwestern drawl that Danny only seemed to let out around Red Hood. “And don’t make that face, the duct tape is outside of the panties.”

“You can’t see my face,” Jason pointed out, a bit grumpily because he had been grimacing at the thought.

“I was still right though,” Danny said with a smug little smiling pulling on his cherry red lips. It was a good color on him. He leaned back against the wall and spread his legs in a way that Jason couldn’t help but follow with this gaze. “Everything is fine down there, Boss, just a little squished. Offer’s still on the table if you want to check out the good. No charge for my darlin’ knight.”

Jason snorted at the continued offer from Danny; it was practically as good as ‘bye’ between them at this point since Danny seemed to offer it every time. “I’m not going to be one of your Johns, Danny.”

“Told you no charge. Could just be two people who like sex,” he offered with a little shrug, but pushed himself off the wall to leave. No, Danny pushed himself up off the wall with a wince.

Jason was at his side in an instant. “One of those fuckers get you?”

“No, so no hunting them down,” Danny said. His voice was confident, but the way he actually leaned on Jason’s offered arm was worrying. “Just a bad John— ex John. That’s why I’m sharking pool instead of working the corner.”

As if Danny had to work an actual corner anymore. He appealed to a very specific type of client that could pay to have something pretty and convincing on their arm and still get what they wanted between the legs and in the sheets.

“You taking anything for it?” Jason asked.

Danny just shrugged. “Nah, Boss, nothing over the counter works on me really.”

“Clinic?”

Danny snorted. “As if. They can test for STDs and that’s about as much as I want a clinic near me.”

Jason resisted the urge to cuss at Danny. He got it. After all, he only trusted Leslie or Alfred really— or a family member in a pinch.

Maybe he could just bluster Danny into getting some help. “Right, come on.”

“What?” Danny asked, digging his heels (and fuck those were some heels) into the ground.

Not willing to put with that right then, Jason just swung his arm under Danny’s legs and scooped him up like he was nothing. Fuck the Johns really had to be able to throw Danny around if they wanted that sort of thing.

“Boss, Hood, what the fuck?!” Danny hissed.

“Safe fucking house is what the fuck so I can check you over.”

“Boss, if you wanted in the skirt—”

“Danny, shut the fuck up and let me make sure you’re alright, alright?” Jason asked, looking down at him.

Danny stared back with a frown. Then his sighed, like it was the biggest concession in the world to make. Finally he rested his head against Jason’s chest. “Fine, Boss, whatever you say.”

“Thank you,” Jason said, more gently than he meant to.

Jason had to suck in several careful breaths as he took in the wound splashed across Danny’s ribs. “No fucking John did that to you and if they did—” if they took some sort of hot poker to Danny’s side— “I’ll kill them if they did.”

#tbcontinued #dp x dc #dead on main #minx

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gojotojis · 3 months

Text

Butterfly pt.2

part one

this story will contain mentions of sexual assault, part one contains sexual assault please do not read if this will trigger you.

summary: gojo helps you heal from a traumatic sexual experience by showing you what consensual sex is like and just how good it can make you feel.

pairing: gojo satoru x fem reader

content MDNI: sexual assault mention, consensual sex, vaginal sex, oral (f receiving), praise kink, squirting, fingering, friends to loversish, healing, trauma, soft gojo, girl obsessed gojo, yearning, angst, protected sex

I am in no way romanticizing or gloryfing sexual assault, this is how I’m choosing to cope with my trauma. Any and all hate will be blcoked.

November

Gojo immediately regrets asking, he goes to wipe your tears but stops himself. The atmosphere has shifted, and he doesn’t know what to do or say. You have this strong urge to hug him and hope he hugs back, making you feel safe but that voice reminds you how horrid men can be.

“No,” you answer his question and you feel like heaving up the little bits of pizza you ate. You feel dirty and disgusting, wanting to crawl out of your own skin.

Before you can think, you’re climbing into his lap. You wrap your arms around him and rest your head against his chest, he’s stiff, completely taken by surprise as your inner conscience screams at you to get off him, to not let him touch you.

You should tense when his fingers trail up your spine, rubbing gently as his other hand holds the back of your head. It feels nice, to be held and treated so softly.

“You can talk to me, you can trust me,” he says, the urge to tell someone the truth I so strong but you’re scared he’ll think of you as disgusting or blame you for what happened.

His fingers thread through your hair until he’s massaging your scalp, and you sigh at the feeling. You’ve been craving physical touch for so long but it’s terrified you until now, until him.

You slowly look up at him, eyes locking with his through his glasses. You’re not sure if it’s depravation or desperation that makes you kiss his lips but you do.

Rejection hits you when he pulls you off of him, gently setting you beside him.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out, looking at your lap. The only friendship you have, potentially ruined.

“It’s okay, I should probably go,” he says and you nod, following him to the door.

You cry yourself to sleep that night.

End of November

It’s been almost four weeks, since you’ve heard from him. He doesn’t text you, he doesn’t ask for a stupid little song even though you’ve made a list of them for everyday he’s missed.

You feel horribly sad, eyes lingering on the bottle of vodka sitting in front of you.

It also been four weeks since you’ve had a drink or touched drugs. A toxic cycle you’re trying to break, you’re not addicted to it. You like the numbness it brings, like an outlet or a cure to some sick disease festering inside of you.

Salem meows, making you look away. You crouch down and lift him up into your arms. He nuzzles against you, as you lay down on the couch.

You feel sick, utterly sick at how you managed to ruin the one good thing in your life. Why would he want to kiss you, someone so tainted and broken, someone so hideous.

The urge to break your lease and move away seems like the only reasonable option, even though deep down you know it’s insane.

How could you be so stupid? Why do you have to ruin everything?

Beginning of December Gojos Birthday.

The cold air nips at your skin, but you enjoy the walk home from work. Her Way by PartyNextDoor fills your ears, AirPods hidden under your black earmuffs.

You hiss as your ungloved hand reaches the freezing metal handle of the door to your building. You yank it open and rush inside, shivering.

Mrs. Tomioka stands by the mailboxes and smiles at you. You pause your music as her lips part.

“Oh dear, you need to layer up more,” she says staring at you dressed in nothing but leggings, a hoodie and fur boots. You simply nod, turning to walk away.

“How’s the cat?” she asks and your brows furrow.

“What?” You ask, she lives two floors above you and you’ve never mentioned Salem to her.

“The one your neighbor bought off me?” She asks.

“Gojo?”you ask and she nods.

“The little black cat he insisted I give to him. Someone had already bought him so he doubled it,” she says and your heart feels strange in your chest.

“You must have the wrong person, he said he found the kitten” you say and she shakes her head.

“No honey, it was him. The one with the blindfold, he said there was a girl in desperate need of a friend,” she says and you feel dizzy. You walk away from her, climbing up the stairs trying to process her words.

You find yourself walking to his door, hands gently knocking.

You feel a sense of euphoria when the door opens only it’s not Gojo. The woman you always see with him opens the door and stares at you. Your expression turns solem as she looks at you curiously.

“Is Gojo here?” You ask and she nods.

“He’s in the shower,” she says, your eyes catch the balloons with Happy Birthday written across them.

“It’s his birthday?” You ask and she nods.

“Thank you,” you say, walking toward your door and she closes his.

You pull out your phone and text him ‘Happy Birthday!’.

He doesn’t respond.

Mid December

The rooms dark as you curl into a ball, Salem nestled against your chest. Your anxiety’s so bad, you just want it to go away. Salems purring as your fingers run along his spine, grounding you. He’s the only thing keeping you afloat.

A light knock at your door has you blinking, you want to yell at them to go away but you’re drained of all energy.

The knocking continues, making Salem jump down from the bed. Annoyance fills you as you follow the kitten toward the front door, lifting him into your arms.

You don’t bother checking the peephole as you open it, so many feelings hit you as you stare at the man in front of you. Sadness, anger, confusion, yearning, it all hits you.

“Hi,” he says and your eyes sting. Salem fights to jump into his arms, so enthralled by the tall man.

You close the door and he doesn’t stop you.

“I just want to talk,” he says through the door as you set the cat down.

“I can explain,” he says but you don’t want to hear it. He’s like every man, they make you feel good until they don’t anymore.

He had promised not to hurt you and he lied, the organ beating in your chest hurts so badly because of him.

“Please go,” you whisper weakly, accepting that it’s over and he does.

December 22nd

Four messages hit your phone, Happy Birthday texts from your siblings, mom and grandma. You simply thank them with a heart emoji. You despise your birthday, another reminder of everything you’ve failed to accomplish in the previous year and how alone you are.

A knock at the door has you sighing, expecting the hideous daisies your grandma always sends you. You’re grateful and don’t have the heart to tell her how much you hate them.

The door swings open and you audibly gasp. Gojo stands there with his blindfold off and piercing blue irises stare into the depths of your soul. He’s beautiful, more so than you had conjured in your head.

“X & Y” he says and your head tilts, brows furrowing.

“What?” You ask.

“X & Y by Coldplay, that’s our song” he says, your chest tightens, you’ve heard it a million times.

I dive in at the deep end

You become my best friend

I want to love you but I don't know if I can

I know something is broken

And I'm trying to fix it

Trying to repair it

Any way I can

“It’s just a song,” you say and he shakes his head.

“Nothings just a song to you, it’s everything, it’s us” he says absolutely serious, blue eyes pinning yours.

“You kissed me and I couldn’t think, you’ve slowly become my bestfriend and that scared me. I had a bestfriend once, and he died… I thought I’d be sparing you from the horror that is my life because I don’t want to lose another friend, not you. But I saw you, hidden behind the music, spiraling and so scared. I saw you and never in my life have I wanted anything more,” he says, you stand there frozen trying to make sense of his words.

“You ignored me, made me feel unwanted, ashamed and so sad,”you whisper, eyes watering. His hand reaches out to caress your cheek against his palm.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, I’ve never done this. And I know you’re too good for me, a better person than I’ll ever deserve but I’m just a guy desperately wanting a girl, the girl, to talk to him again” he says . His words are so foreign to your ears, so full of adoration, need and genuinuity.

“You missed the songs,” you say as he steps closer.

“I’m sorry” he breathes looking down at you.

“You didn’t answer my texts” you whisper, as he enters the apartment.

“Hardest thing I ever did”.

“You lied to me about Salem,” you say and he shuts the door, your hearts beating so fast, too fast that you fear it’ll give out.

“You needed him,” he whispers, hands cupping your face and he kisses you.

This kiss sends shocks throughout your body, from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. The hairs on your arms stand up and your pupils dilate. His tongue prods against your lips and you open them, feeling his mouth hungrily lap at yours.

Your nails dig into the muscles of his arms, nipples hardening and core aching. Nothing but your mingled breaths, fill the apartment.

His hands slide down to your ass and you tense. You still against him and he stops, his forehead pressed against yours. His hands pin to your waist.

“I won’t hurt you, not ever,” he says and you nod, tears sliding down your cheeks. You want this to be real, to believe him.

“Pick a word. Any word, you use it and this all stops,” he says.

“Butterfly” you whisper, standing on the tips of your toes to kiss him. It’s sweet and gentle, this is Gojo, he won’t hurt you.

He pulls you down to the couch with him, straddling his waist. Nerves prickle at you, his fingers skimming the naked skin of your arms. You can feel the bulge underneath you and your eyes close.

“You’re safe,” he whispers in your ear, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“I’ll never let anything bad happen to you,” he says, lips brushing your cheek. The safety net he’s created around you, creates warmth in your belly.

His lips brush against your neck, soft wet kisses trailing along the smooth column. You moan as he sucks at the skin, fingers gripping the wrist that hold your waist.

“Do you want me touch you?” he asks and you nod against him, you haven’t felt this kind of desire in your life, it outweighs your fear. You trust him.

“Show me where”he says and you redden, unsure of what he means. Your hand grabs his and he looks at you.

“Here” you say shyly, pressing his hand against your core. His hand moves against you, palm digging into your cloth covered pussy but the pressure feels so good. You bite your lip, face scrunching and it makes him painfully harder. He stops and you worry, but he fingers graze the waist band of your shorts.

“Is it okay if we take these off?” He asks and you nod, slowly standing up so he can slide them down you. You look down, nervous. The words fat, ugly, slut and whore resonate and your chest constricts. He kneels down infront of you, fingers grazing the hem of your tank top. He lifts it off and tosses it, leaving you in nothing but your panties. You fight the urge to cover yourself and hide.

“So beautiful,” he whispers looking up at you, and you sigh when his lips meet your belly. He peppers the flesh with kisses, every touch going to your core.

He gently moves you so you can sit back on the couch. Your chest heaves watching him kneeling before you. His fingers grip the edge of your panties, and you watch him slide them down. Your legs close and his large hands press against your thighs.

“Do you trust me?” He asks and you nod.

His eyes don’t leave yours as his hands pry you open. He looks at your pussy with lust and awe, fingers grazing through your folds and you buck against them.

His thumb grazes your clit and you cry, eyes locked on his.

“I’m gonna make you feel good, okay?” He asks and you nod, watching his thumb circle your clit and feel a long and thick finger, push inside of you. Your hands clutch at the couch cushions, desperate to claw at the flesh of his arms.

“Relax, gonna stretch you out” he whispers and you nod, trying your best to calm down despite the sensation inside of you. Your face morphs into discomfort when he adds a second finger, his movements slow down to let you adjust.

He leans down and presses a kiss to your clit for distraction and your eyes widen. Your fingers slide through his scalp and tug at the white silky strands when his tongue pokes your clit.

The feeling of his fingers become pleasurable and you grind against them, gasping when you feel his wet tongue drag across your pussy. It’s too much, you feel like you’re going to die.

His tongue flicks across your clit over and over until his mouth devours your pussy entirely, sucking it and lapping the juices that leak from you. You flush red as you grind against his face, chasing the end of what the knot in your stomach promises.

He groans against you and it vibrates your pussy making you cry out as you cum, his fingers speeding up their pace as he drags out your orgasm. Your legs shaking as your thighs try to close. He lazily licks at you, sending little aftershocks through you.

When he’s done, he presses several kisses to your cunt and then your inner thighs, to your belly and the valley between your breast until he’s kissing your lips. Everything about this is so erotic, you feel so high off of your release and how good he makes you feel.

He pulls back and his forehead presses against yours.

“Did you like it?” He asks and you nod, watching him grab your clothes. He chuckles as he slides your panties up and then your shorts. You raise your arms and he slides the tank top over you.

“Happy birthday” he whispers against your lips. You have no idea how he knows but you don’t care.

“Thank you,” you smile up at him.

“I have your gifts in my apartment,” he says making you feel tingly inside.

“You didn’t have to get me anything, “ you say, you feel horrible you didn’t get to see him on his birthday or even talk to him but that was his fault.

“I’ll be right back,” he says and walks out the front door. You rush to your room, and reach for the stupid thing you had made him. You feel doubt, he may hate it but it comes from your heart.

You sigh, looking at Salem curled into a ball on your bed and grab the cd. You close the door and see Gojo with several packages… you deflate. You’re actually the worst gift giver in the world.

“I know we didn’t get to see eachother for your birthday but I made you this which seems quite lame now. I know everything’s digital but I wanted you to have something physical,” you say handing him the blue wrapped gift.

He opens it and you swallow, as he stares at the cover. He laughs at the picture of Pearl with her pitchfork and turns it over to see the songs listed. His finger stills on track number seven.

“X & Y” he reads aloud and you nod.

“I told you we share the same brain” he says before kissing you, his arms circling your waist and lifting you off the ground. You smile against him.

You’re not use to this kind of affection, it feels overwhelming. It makes you want to just burst at the seams.

“I love it,” he says putting you down.

“Your turn,” he says gesturing toward the bigger box on the coffee table. You nervously touch the pink wrapping paper and rip it. You swallow roughly, staring at the white audio technica record player. You reach for the thinly stacked pile of gifts and open them revealing record after record of your favorite albums. Your throat feels raw, tears pricking your eyes and you look up at him.

Your arms wrap around him and squeeze him like if you let go he’ll be gone. Tears soak his shirt as his arms hug back, his lips press against the top of your head.

“Seemed like something you’d like” he said and you nodded. You wanted to collect vinyls but it’s such an expensive hobby, so you held off.

“Thank you, for everything”.

Beginning of January

Gojo: song ?

You: Coming Down, The Weeknd

Gojo: you’re freaky

You blush at the text.

You: aren’t you suppose to be working?

Gojo: I’d rather talk to you, let me see you

You hesitantly open your camera app, trying not to let the insecurities get to you as you snap a picture of you smiling and send it.

Gojo: so fucking pretty

Your insides stir at the compliment, you love the way he makes you feel. Fear tries to crawl its way up at the thought of this being taken away. It’s like you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop because how could someone so beautiful be into you?

Mid January

Gojo wants to take you on a date but he’s aware of your anxiety, the way you hide behind your music when in public to avoid social interactions.

You love it just being the two of you, no expectations no pressure, just the two of you in this little bubble.

“Gojo?” You ask watching him eat his General tso on the couch and you eat your bourbon chicken across from him.

“What was your bestfriends name?” You ask and he stills. You hope you’re not crossing a line but you want to know everything about him, the good and the bad.

“Suguru Geto,” he says, his voice cracks and you look down at your lap.

“How’d he die?…” you ask, the room is silent as he thinks of what to say.

“Car accident” he lies to you, one day he’ll tell you the truth but he doesn’t want you to look at him differently, not now and not ever.

“I’m sorry, if you ever want to talk about it I’m here,” you say with sincerity, hand reaching to touch his. His fingers lace with yours and he stares at you, blue orbs in awe.

“Can I ask you something?” He asks and you nod, dreading what it is.

“What happened to you?”he asks, your fingers tremble as you look down at your lap. Your lips move and you speak, your ears block out every word, every detail that leaves you as tears roll down your cheeks. You avoid his reaction, you can’t bare for him to look at you differently.

When it’s done, your chest hurts like it’s being crushed.

You feel yourself being lifted, his hands gripping the back of your thighs as they wrap around his waist. Your arms fall over his shoulders and your head in the crook of his neck. You don’t realize you’re shaking against him as he presses kisses to your face.

“You’re safe now,” he whispers, trying to not think of you so scared and vulnerable. How someone could hurt you and be so cruel to you.

He carries you to his room and you fall asleep against his chest, his fingers grazing your back as he promises nothing bad will ever happen to you again.

Beginning of February

Your fingers grip the recliner, absolutely scared. You’ve never felt this scared from a movie but god it’s fucking brutal and you love it.

Gojo laughs as you jump from the chair in shock, he’s never seen you this animated.

“Christ…” you breathe watching the possessed girl stab her brother.

“It’s just a movie, baby” Gojo whispers, grateful he rented the movie theatre out. Even though he loves your reactions, popcorn would’ve been thrown at you by now.

“My stomach hurts” you whine.

“That’s anxiety,” he chuckles squeezing your hand. The jump scares are too much and you bury your face in his side. Your hands covers your face, eyes peeking through your fingers. You’re definitely sleeping at his place tonight, there’s no way you’re gonna be home alone after this.

Once the movies over, your hand grips his for dear life trying to process what the fuck you just watched.

“I assume you didn’t like it” he says.

“I loved it!” You answer, surprising him. Evil dead rise now easily one of the best horror movies you’ve seen in a long time.

He laughs as he holds your joined hands up to his lips. You both walk through the mall, stopping when Gojo sighs and you spot three teenagers staring at you with wide eyes and dropped jaws.

“Sensei!” A pink haired boy shouts running up to you.

“You have a girlfriend?” The spiky haired boy with him asks, looking to Gojo.

“She’s too pretty to be his girlfriend” the girl shakes her head.

“What are you three doing here?” He asks them.

“Following you,” the pink haired boy says like it’s the most normal answer.

“Yuji said you’ve been acting weird, so we decided to see for ourselves. Hi, I’m Nobara Kugisaki!” The girl says holding her hand out to you and you shake it.

“That’s Yuji, and that’s Megumi,” she says pointing to the boys beside her. Yuji smiles but Megumi simply looks bored. You instantly recognize them as Gojo’s students he had told you about.

“We were going to eat, did you want to join us?” You ask.

“No!” Gojo says.

“Yes!” Nobara and Yuji beam.

The five of you fall in step to the little pizza place inside the mall. Yuji and Nobara ask you a million questions while Gojo scowls beside Megumi.

You all find a table and order a half and half cheese and pepperoni pizza and then a Hawaiian pizza.

“He got you a cat?!” Nobara asks and you nod, pulling your phone out to show her pictures of Salem. She gushes, and smiles at Gojo.

“I wish someone would get me a cat?” She sighs taking a bite of her cheese pizza.

“The last thing you need is a cat” Gojo says and Megumis lips tug upward.

“How long have you guys been dating?” Yuji asks and your cheeks redden.

“Is this an interrogation?” Gojo asks and you chuckle, he seems annoyed by them but you can tell he loves them.

Gojo’s grateful when it’s over and you two are in his apartment after grabbing Salem from yours. Salem runs rampant around Gojo’s place.

“I love them” you say referring to his students and he smiles, pecking your lips.

“They’re a handful but they’re good kids, really good kids”.

March

You tense into Gojo’s side, his fingers gently grazing up and down your arm. It’s innocent but you feel it all around you. He hasn’t initiated anything since your birthday and you kind of wish he would.

The idea of sex doesn’t seem so scary since he made it enjoyable for you. He stares at the movie on the screen as you think about his head between your legs, his tongue licking at you. Your fingers dig into your thigh, and it’s like you can feel his fingers inside of you. A fire starts in your belly and you look up at him, he can feel your eyes on him and his brows furrow.

“What’s wrong?” He asks.

“Can you touch me?” you ask.

“I am,” he says, fingers tapping against your arm and you turn red.

“Down there” you whisper and feel him pull away from you. You fear you’ve ruined this routine you’ve fallen into but feel him lifting you up. You laugh as he tosses you over his shoulder and walks you to his room.

Your hearts in your ears, unsure of what will happen but you need to feel his skin against yours.

He sets you on the bed and you stare up at him with eager eyes.

“Safe word?” He asks.

“Butterfly” you say.

“Good girl” he says, pressing a kiss to your lips.

“I’m gonna undress you now” he says and you nod, standing up so he can take your clothes off. The rooms dark but the moonlight gives enough lighting for him to see your body. His hands glide up your sides, squeezing your hips.

Your fingers reach for the hem of his shirt, tugging on it to let him know you want it off. You desperately want to see him. He smiles and lifts it up and over his head. Your stomach clenches at the sight of his muscled body and abs but the trail of white hair leading down into his pants makes your toes curl into the carpet.

“Can I touch you?” You ask and his hand grabs yours, pressing it against his stomach. Your fingers burn under the heat of his skin, sliding over the toned ridges of his body. He’s so warm you want to feel him against you.

“You’re so pretty”you tell him and he kisses you, his tongue finding home in your mouth, devouring you entirely. You moan against him, feel his fingers touch your clit. He bites your lips, rubbing against the bud and your face scrunches. A gasp escapes you when you feel his finger enter you, gently pushing you down onto the bed.

His finger fucks into you at a gentle yet deep pace, he wants you to enjoy this despite how badly he wants to fuck you into the mattress. His thumb works circles into your clit and your hips push forward, taking him deeper in you.

He adds a second finger and you cry, his pace slightly increasing but the fullness has you gripping the comforter as you writhe against him.

“Cum baby, you can do it” he encourages and you do when his fingers push against this one spot that has your eyes rolling back. You twitch against him he withdraws his fingers, your nipples become painfully hard as he takes them in his mouth.

“The sweetest girl” he says licking at them. He grabs your clothes and you stop him, kneeling up on the bed.

“I want more” you say nervously.

“Are you sure?” He asks and you nod, your trembling fingers reach for his belt, eyes locked on his as you undo it. Your fingers drag his zipper down and stop, anxiety crawls up. You feel like you’re going to throw up, he sees it and presses his forehead against yours.

“It’s me and you, you control this. One word and it stops, I won’t do anything you don’t want to” he says and you nod, kissing his cheek.

“Can you do it?” You ask and he nods, pushing you back down. You stare at the ceiling, listening to him undress and your throat bobs.

It’s Gojo, he would never hurt you.

He grabs a condom from the bed side drawer and tears it open with his teeth. You don’t look down, scared you’ll want this to stop. He rolls the condom on and spreads your legs open. Your heart is beating inhumanly fast.

“Let me take care of you” he says before pressing kisses to your inner thighs, easing the tension out of you. You whimper when you feel him kiss your clit before he crawls on top of you.

“Ready?” He asks and you nod, feeling the head of his cock nudge at your opening. He feels too big as he tries to ease inside, and he see the panic in your eyes. He kisses your cheeks, hesitant to continue but you nod letting him know it’s okay. You want this, you want him.

The stretch is painful as he inches further inside of you, tears fall from your eyes and he feels so much guilt pressing kisses to every tear until he’s bottoming out inside of you.

You feel so full, but he doesn’t move, letting you adjust. His thumb circles your clit and you moan, squeezing around him. He groans at the feel of you choking the life out of his dick.

He hasn’t had sex in three years, something you don’t know and he doesn’t want to fuck this up by cumming before you do.

“You’re squeezing the life out of me baby, gotta relax” he says.

“I’m sorry” you squeak and he kisses you.

“It feels really good, but I gotta take care of you first” he assures you and you nod. Your mouth opens when he pulls out and slowly thrusts back in, he hits something deep inside of you and you tremble slightly.

He continues this slow thrusting, feeling your nails drag across his back. Milky white skin turning red.

He’s trying his best not to lose control but his thrusts become faster and you cry, feeling his hand press down on your stomach. He grunts with every thrust, sending heat to your pussy as you grip him like a vice.

“You’re doing so good baby,” he says knocking into your cervix and you both moan as his body crushes against yours, arms wrapping around you. He fucks into you over and over feeling you shake around him. You feel this strange sensation, like something is begging to release from you. He knocks into your cervix again and you sob, feeling yourself cum around him, liquid gushing out of you and you feel mortified.

“I’m sorry” you say as he stills inside of you, your thighs now wet.

“You squirted baby, it’s okay. Can you do it again?” He asks, you’re not sure but you nod and he moves inside of you, thrust harder and faster as he ruts into you, he grabs your hand and places it over your belly underneath his.

You feel the bulge he’s making inside of you, feel his cock moving inside of you under your skin and it sends you over the edge, cumming like your life depends on it and he grunts, fucking into you until he’s cumming too. He pulls out and rolls you over to lay on top of him.

“Are you okay?” He asks and you smile up at him.

“I think I love you” you say and he laughs.

“I know I love you,” he says back.

“You do?” You ask and he nods.

“I knew it the moment you saw Salem in my arms, like for the first time, there was something worth caring about,” he says, your fingers tracing circles into his chest.

“I think you’re healing me” you say.

“I think we’re healing eachother” he says pressing his lips to your temple.

“All I want is you. I want this everyday, forever, you, me and salem” he says, and you smile. You press a kiss to his sternum.

“You, me and Salem”.

I’ll do grammar check later, I was trying to get this out asap! thanks for reading! Also I didn’t mention it but it’s canon that gojo lied about needing eggs, milk and sugar just as an excuse to talk to her!

@kakashixhatakesxwhore @erensblackwife

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru #gojo smut #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #satoru gojo #jjk satoru #jujutsu kaisen smut #lucygojo

476 notes · View notes

formulawolff · 4 months

Text

xii. the final verdict - t.w.

pairing: female!driver x toto wolff

word count: 3.3k

warnings: smutttttt, two idiots in love, YEARNING, LOTS OF YEARNING, lewis being a little shit, george is lowkey dumb sometimes, slightttttt use of daddy dom!kink, cursing, angst, poorly translated german, yadayadayada

prev. | next.

night falls over the track, swathing it with a blanket of darkness. yet, three shadows make their way towards a crisp white building, a comfortable silence settling in. one of the figures carries a woman in his arms, her head nestled in his shoulder.

“how are you able to carry her like that?”

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

“it’s not like she’s very heavy, george,” toto shrugs, motioning his head towards the door, “lewis, get the door for me, will you? it should be unlocked.”

“she leaves it unlocked?” lewis raises a brow, “that’s not very safe.”

“she usually leaves it unlocked this time of night,” toto huffs, “she probably did it out of habit.”

“is this the time you usually come over?” george inquires, propping the door open.

“so many questions,” toto shakes his head, “and quiet down, will you?”

“yeah george,” lewis sticks a tongue out at his teammate, “the wittle baby is sweeping!”

“she’s not a baby,” toto growls, strolling down that familiar hallway, “stay here for a minute. i’m going to get her in bed.”

“aye, aye, captain,” lewis salutes the team principal, “we’ll stay right here.”

as the team principal disappears behind her bedroom door, lewis shifts, turning to george, “george. he’s not falling in love. he loves that girl.”

“as if that wasn’t already obvious the second he scooped her up into his arms,” folding his arms across his chest, george surveyed the space, taking in the minimal decor and plain furniture, “no wonder she wants him over all the time. if i was basically living in a space like this, i would lose my mind.”

“should we help her decorate it?” lewis pauses, crossing over to the kitchenette. opening a few of the cupboards, a frown forms, “she doesn’t even have very many snacks. so much for making this a comfortable space. it’s not very homey.”

“that’s what i was saying,” george mutters, “we should mention something to toto. maybe he’ll take her shopping.”

“maybe it’s a racing strategy? like she needs a blank space to clear her mind?” lewis inspects the fridge, lip curling in disgust, “to make things worse, she likes red bull!”

“oh god,” george shudders, “throw it out! throw it–”

“what the fuck do you think you two are doing?”

the drivers freeze as toto stands before them, eyes narrowed into mere slits, the toe of his foot tapping against the floor. lewis glances over at george, the drivers sharing a panicked look as he clears his throat.

“umm nothing!”

“right,” toto clicks his tongue, strolling towards the couch. he sits, letting out a shaky sigh as his head rolls back, fingers massaging his temples, “don’t worry. she has a shipment coming in soon with some decor. i ordered some things for the place. like you both said, i think she needs to make this a little more cozy.”

“you heard all of that?” lewis shifts uneasily, rubbing the back of his neck.

“i heard everything,” toto tsks, “i think she’s okay. thank you both, for your help tonight. however, you do realize that she is a grown woman, right? you don’t have to play babysitter for me.”

“i was just a bit worried about you know?” lewis fiddles with a loose thread on his shirt, “i know she’s a grown adult, but i was just a bit nervous of what could have happened if she got too fucked up and said something she shouldn’t have.”

hmmm. lewis did have a point there.

“i just wanted to make sure she got home safely,” george’s voice is low, “if she’s going to be my future teammate, i want to make sure she’s taking care of herself.”

at george’s statement, toto feels a smile form on his lips, “how kind of you, george. i appreciate that.”

“do you think she’ll sign with mercedes?”

the inquiry is one that had been on toto’s mind frequently, more and more apparent as they got closer and closer to miami. now, it was all over. the lights on the track were shut off, the cleanup crew was well past finished, and the stands were completely empty.

and toto needed an answer.

well, not now. not in her current state.

he would have to wait until morning, when her mind was clear and senses alert.

as of now, toto was only about seventy-five percent sure she would say yes. that she would depart from williams, take his hand, and follow him to mercedes.

that twenty-five percent is what worried him.

with the current momentum of williams, and the relationships she had established with the team, he knew it would be hard to leave. it would be hard to say goodbye to james, the one who believed in her, bringing her in when the other teams said no. it would be even more difficult to leave alex, as he was well aware of their sibling-like friendship.

but the heart wants what it wants. right?

surely she would pick him.

surely.

“i’m not sure,” toto murmurs, running a hand through his hair, “she has a lot of emotional attachment to williams.”

“but she loves you.”

she loves you.

at those words, a warm, cozy sensation rippled in his heart, sending waves of bliss crashing all over. yet, there was a twinge of disbelief.

there was no way a woman like her loved a man like him.

a recently divorced father, who happened to be one of the busiest men on earth. he was constantly on the go. he was emotionally available at times, his exterior cold and brittle, like ice. he was too cruel. too matter-of-fact. the travel would be too much for her. she hated traveling, anyway. the jet lag, the sleepless flights, the perpetual feeling of not having a place to call home.

yet, toto ached to know. to know when she said it. how she said it. the expression she bore as those words tumbled from those perfect lips. the way her voice sounded. he wanted to know every miniscule detail.

he needed to know.

“when did she say that?”

“while we were waiting for the uber,” lewis’ eyes shine, glimmering with joy, “it was quite cute, actually. we were making fun of you, not really making fun, more like teasing. she got so defensive, telling us to quit it because she loved you. she said to not make fun of the man she loved.”

“she was very adamant about it too,” george adds, his chuckle ringing through the space, “we asked her if she loved you, and she said ‘well of course i do. i love him. don’t tell him i said that, though.’”

“and you guys told me?”

“i didn’t mean to,” lewis admits, “you just seem really distraught about the whole thing so i figured i would try to help ease your stress.”

well, that did the trick.

fighting a yawn, the team principal covers his mouth, “we can talk about it more tomorrow, after i come back. i’ll keep you two in the loop. don’t expect every detail, though.”

“i don’t think i want every detail,” george teases, yawning, “okay lew, i think it’s time for us to go. carmen is waiting on me.”

“have fun! don’t break your hips from–”

“lewis.” george hisses, “let’s go.”

“okay,” lewis rolls his eyes, “see you, toto.”

as the two drivers exit the motorhome, the door clicking shut, the team principal clambers to his feet. fuck, today was completely and utterly exhausting. yet, he could finally hold you in his arms. he could finally just be with you.

that alone was worth the trouble brought by the series of events that transpired this evening.

pushing open the door, toto melts at the sight of you.

you were lying on your hip, one pillow underneath your head while you held onto the other. your knee was bent, the other leg sticking straight out. in the dim light he can make out the glisten of drool, strands of hair tousled, messy and unkempt.

yet, you were as breathtaking as ever.

luckily, toto was able to get your clothes off of you with ease. it wasn’t the method he preferred, but he was grateful to be able to do those little things. he was more than willing to do anything you needed. all you had to do was bat those pretty little lashes and pout.

that was his weakness.

and you knew it too.

well, you were his weakness.

as he settles on the edge of the bed, pulling his joggers off, he reaches out, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

did you know much he adored you? did he make that clear enough? were you aware of how completely and utterly weak you made him?

“hi baby,” you mumble, your eyes still shut, “i missed you.”

baby.

oh god.

what were you doing to him?

“hallo, miene liebe,” toto whispers, “wie fühlst du dich?”

“schlecht.”

his heart swells at your response, a chuckle rumbling in his chest, “so you have picked up on a thing or two.”

“come here,” you whine, shifting your body towards the middle of the bed, “you’ve been yapping with lewis and george all nighttttt.”

“did you hear any of that conversation?” momentarily, panic sets in, yet dissolves as you shake your head.

“i just woke up. i figured you were talking to them. i heard the front door shut.”

“ah,” toto climbs into the bed, wrapping his arms around your frame, bringing you close, “were they being loud?”

“no,” your voice is thick with sleep as you nestle into his collarbone, “thank you for coming and getting me, toto.”

“of course,” his mouth connects with your temple, placing tender kisses all over, “i’ll always come get you. call me, and i’ll be there.”

“promise?”

“i promise,” taking your hand, he locks your pinkies together, “i pinky promise.”

“i didn’t know old people made pinky promises.”

“it’s your fault,” toto tuts, yet you can feel him smile against your skin, “you make a mess out of me, you know that? every time you’re near me, i’m just a mess. i can’t think straight. i can’t focus on anything other than you.”

“well, you’re gonna be a complete and total mess all the time then.”

“and why’s that?” he squeezes your hand gently, resting his chin on the crown of your head.

“because i’m accepting your offer. i’m going to sign with mercedes.”

in that moment, toto wolff nearly crumbles completely.

although there’s a fiery sureness in your tone, brimmed with authenticity, he knows in his heart that he shouldn’t be so sure.

yet, as you doze off in his embrace, he can’t shake the complete and utter bliss.

after one last kiss, his mouth hovers by your ear, the words so gentle, bursting with an emotion that could only be described as one thing.

“ich liebe dich, mein goldenes mädchen."

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

a fiery pain sears through your skull as you stir, groaning.

“fuck.”

“good morning, my little lightweight,” a voice, his voice, an octave lower than normal, rumbles from behind, “do you need some water and tylenol?”

rolling over, you bury your head into his chest, grateful for the traces of cologne clinging to his shirt, “yes.”

“how many? i can order breakfast too.”

“i wouldn’t go that far yet,” the idea of food has you nauseous for a moment, “i think snuggles would be just fine.”

throwing your leg over his waist, your arm hangs loosely around his rib-cage as he lets out a laugh, “i can’t help you feel better if you’re on top of me, schatzi. you have to let me get up.”

“five more minutes.”

“as you wish, my golden girl,” a hand wraps around the base of your neck, his fingers kneading into your skin, “it’s only six thirty-four. you only slept for about three hours.”

“not like i can sleep in,” you exhale, grateful for the soothing gesture, “i have to meet with my parents in a couple of hours.”

“oh yeah? fun day ahead?”

“i guess,” you shrug, “as much as i love spending time with them, i just get so fucking sad thinking about the inevitable goodbyes. we probably won’t be able to see each other till our summer break.”

if you signed with mercedes, i would have your parents moved to brackley in an instant. you would never have to worry about those goodbyes for the rest of your life.

yet, toto bites his tongue, “then how about you start getting ready, hmm?”

“because there’s a very attractive man in my bed with me and i don’t want him to leave me quite yet.”

you would never have to worry about that. ever. i could never leave your side.

“is that so?” fingers grasp your chin, tilting it upward, “do i know him?”

“mhmm,” you hum, “his name is toto. toto wolff. you may know him, i’m not sure though.”

“i think so too,” he leans in, mouth ghosting over yours, “come here, baby.”

as your lips collide, your hands roam, tangling in his brunette locks. the kiss is passionate, laced with desperation, as if you were reuniting after months spent apart. it sucks the air out of your lungs, leaving you breathless as his tongue finds yours, teeth nearly gnashing together as the tension builds, the kisses growing more and more needy by the second.

every move is electric, sending a shiver down your spine as his mouth detaches from yours, down your jawline and on to your neck. he nips the heated skin, sucking lightly as your head rolls back, hips bucking forward.

between your thighs, you feel his cock twitch, throbbing as you grind against it.

“fuck.” he moans, jaw clenching as your hand glides along the waistband of his boxers, “you just can’t wait, can you?”

“no daddy,” the innocence notes, so pure, so sweet, drip in his ears, “i can’t wait. i need you to fuck me.”

oh fuck.

he was going to ruin you.

absolutely ruin you.

“take these off,” fingers hook the band of your panties, “the shirt too. and bend over.”

your cheeks burn at the authority in his tone. fuck, you couldn’t get enough of this. of him. since brackley, you were craving a moment like this. a moment where the two of you could just lose all inhibitions, completely enamored with one another.

sliding his boxers down his legs, toto kicks them to the floor. raising his arms, he peels off his shirt, tossing it. yet, as his attention shifts back to the bed, he nearly unravels right there.

your back is arched, your ass jiggling as you situate yourself on the bed, getting more comfortable. as he can’t help but stare, his heart flutters as he takes in the way your body flows. how your shoulders, toned and defined, ripple as his fingertips roam. how the curve of your ass sits perfectly below your waist. how your pussy looks from this angle, dripping as you anticipate his next move.

fuck, this must be a dream.

it had to be a dream.

“you’re perfect,” toto murmurs, dropping to his knees, “absolutely perfect, my love.”

“my lo–” you begin, yet the words never leave your mouth.

his tongue finds your swollen clit, savoring the way the juices seep onto his tongue. hands spread your cheeks, granting him access to your weeping pussy. pleasure washes over you, your moans flooding the space, reverberating off the walls.

however, that pleasure quickly fades as he pulls away, a whine rising in your throat.

“toto.”

“what?” his voice is low as he taunts you, “what do you want, schatzi? tell me, what do you need?”

“i need you,” you whimper, wiggling your hips, “please, i need you.”

“and what do you need me to do?” his hands grip your ass, squeezing, “i won’t give it to you till i hear you say it.”

“i need you to fuck me.”

“braves mädchen,” the praise rolls off of his tongue, and for a moment, he’s guilty at how easy it is giving it to you, “good girl.”

licking his lips, toto relishes the lingering taste as spit accumulates in his mouth, falling onto his fingers. his hand glides along his cock, wetting it.

the moment his tip pushes inside of you, your walls expanding, back arching instinctively, he loses it.

as he pounds into your drenched pussy, you grip the sheets, knuckles turning white as a hand weaves into your hair, tugging on the roots, “do you have any idea how much i’ve missed you baby?”

“i-i’ve missed you too,” you grit your teeth as his tip brushes against your g-spot, the pleasure absolutely overwhelming, clouding your senses, “i’ve missed this so much, toto.”

“what is it that you called me last night?”

oh fuck.

he remembered.

“i called you daddy.”

“that’s right,” he coos, the noises filling the room downright sinful as he plowed into you, hips slapping against your ass, “good girl. lewis and george heard your entire conversation with me, you know that?”

oh god. oh fuck. fuck, fuck, fuck.

“but you know what? i don’t give a fuck what they heard. you’re mine, schatzi. all mine.”

with every thrust, stars burst in your field of vision, the pressure growing in your abdomen. the fabric of the sheet balled up in your hands as you held on, desperate for your climax.

toto could sense that you were close with the ways your walls were squeezing his cock. the way your muscles strain, tensing up. the way your voice was practically crying out his name as he fucked you senseless.

fuck, was he crumbling now, the control slipping away by the second.

“i-i’m going to cum,” fuck, were you so pretty like this, exactly where he wanted you, teetering on the edge of your orgasm, “toto, you’re going to make me cum.”

“let go baby,” maintaining his pace, toto leans down, lips planting sloppy kisses all over your shoulders, down your back, “cum for me. you can let go. be a good girl and cum for me.”

the feeling that overcomes you is nothing like you had ever felt before.

it’s euphoria, pure euphoria.

seconds later, you feel him pull out, coating your back with his cum. collapsing into the bed, your chest heaves, inner thighs spasming.

toto disappears momentarily, slipping into your bathroom. moments later, warmth envelops your back as he cleans you up, murmuring praises under his breath. they were in german, your heart swelling as he’s beside you once again, hands gliding along your body, savoring the way you feel against him.

“what?”

“nothing,” you melt as his gaze meets yours, “just you.”

in that moment, you swear you see stars shining in those mocha depths. you notice another emotion glinting, but you are unsure of what it could be.

well, you have an idea.

but you're far too nervous to ask.

“what about me?”

“you’re just beautiful,” he murmurs, “my beautiful girl.”

“about that,” you scoot closer, your head resting in the crook of his neck, “what are we?”

his chest vibrates as he speaks, “what do you want us to be?”

“i want to be yours,” you whisper, so quiet that you were unsure if he even heard you, “as in i want to be your girlfriend. i want to wake up next to you every day. i want to come home to you every night. more than anything, your face is the first one i want to see after a race. i want to hold your hand as we walk to the podium. i want to be able to love you. i can’t do this anymore. i can’t just lie and act nonchalant. i want you, toto. i want you every day. every hour. every minute. every second.”

toto finds himself at a loss for words, blood roaring in his ears as she sucks in a breath, her voice trembling, laced with the threat of tears.

yet, they weren’t tears of sadness. it was more like a cathartic release, like she was finally confessing her deepest, well-kept secret. like she was finally allowing the walls guarding her heart to come crumbling down.

“i’m accepting your offer. i want to drive for mercedes. however, i can’t wait any longer. i can’t be away from you any longer than i have to. i want to start driving for mercedes as soon as possible.”

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

taglist: @younxii @toldyouitwasamelodrama @kravitzwhore @persona1lies @pucksandpower @k3ira13 @prettiest-at-the-party @martwll @annewithaneofthegreengable @zoeyjadetice2010 @sinners-98-world @laura-naruto-fan1998 @nebarious @joalslibrary @swifth0lic @statuewoman @strangegirl974 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @m-1234 @whoisss @msbyjackal @annaaepf1 @paigelouise

as always, if i forgot to add you, or if you would like to be added to the taglist, let me know! thank you all for the endless support and love for this series! y'all are the sweetest! <3

#toto wolff #toto wolff x reader #formula 1 #f1 #formula one #alkaline series #formula one x reader #f1 x reader #alkaline #alkaline: female driver! x toto wolff #toto wolff smut #toto wolff x y/n #toto wolff x you #mercedes amg petronas #williams racing #george russell #lewis hamilton #formula one fanfiction #formula 1 fanfic

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murdrdocs · 2 months

Note

coming back from hibernation cause i saw your reblog about void stiles and…….. just thinking about being friends with scott and stiles but being unaware of the supernatural. they were both planning on telling you eventually—but things have taken a turn to worse lately, and none of them seemed to find the right moment to shatter your reality as you know it. void thought you knew— so imagine the pleasant surprise he has when he shows up at your place and he realizes that you—precious little you, who’s name often was at the forefront of stiles’ mind, who scott seemed to hellbent on keeping safe— doesn’t know a thing about the ancient evil standing before you.

and as void leans closer to you, there is a smirk you haven’t seen before on stiles’ lips. void tilts his head. this should be fun.

- 🍒

typical void antics; darker content; MDNI 18+ w/ VOID

void clocks the confusion on your face first. he steps into your room and you wreak of naivety. the scent permeates your room, your clothes, your everything. it sinks into his skin, but it feels good. because he knows that something can and will come out of this.

"stiles?" you say, sitting up from your position on your bed. you're wearing nothing but a sweatshirt and tiny shorts, and every thought stiles has ever had about you comes rushing to the forefront.

void can hear the weak human speaking to him now, begging him to leave you alone. he's trying to negotiate, but stiles doesn't have anything void wants. well, except you. but void is stiles now, and what's stiles' is void's.

void steps closer, wondering if he should disguise himself, if he should pretend to be your best friend. would the payoff be bigger that way? but the initial fear in your body would give him the rush he needed. yes, he'll take that route.

he doesn't say anything and your face contorts into confusion. you rest your book off to the side, standing and rounding the bed to face void.

"what's wrong? are you sick?"

void just blinks down at you, his lips pursed and his arms clasped behind his back. he can sense the fear settling in your body. he's getting you there, but this isn't nearly enough.

you lift your hands to void's face with assurance, as if you've done this before with stiles. void lets you push the dark hair off of his forehead, analyzing his face for any scratches or bruises. and when you come back empty, you're pouting, pressing the back of your hand against his forehead.

"you're freezing, stiles. what happened?"

void tilts his head a bit. "you really care, don't you?"

you seem surprised, either that he's finally spoken or that this is what he asks you.

"of course i care. why wouldn't i?"

your phone rings from on your bed and from where void stands he can see the contact name. it's no surprise that scott's calling you. he's likely trying to make up for lost time, intending to warn you of events that are already beginning to transpire.

void doesn't even resist scoffing, nor does he resist wrapping his hand around your elbow when you try turning away. he pulls you into his chest, holding you there with a hand on your lower back.

his head dips, eyes looking in yours. there, he finds shock, fear, and excitement. he smirks, big and broad, and continues dipping his head down until his lips trail over the side of your neck.

"don't answer it," he tells you.

you're rigid, not even attempting to push him away from you.

stiles is still pleading with void, begging him to not force you into anything. stiles doesn't even know that void won't have to force you, you've been dying to sleep with stiles. it's obvious. void can't see how stiles hadn't noticed.

"why not? what if it's important?"

void lifts the bottom of your sweatshirt, pressing his hands into your sides. you jump at first, but then melt into the contact.

"probably just your little friend scott warning you about me. nothing he can do now, isn't that right?"

there it is. void can feel the fear in your now. the feeling is as close to a home as he'll ever have.

"warning me about you? what do you mean, stiles? what's going on?"

you're worried and scared, but you still let void run his hands down to the waistband of your shorts. he wonders how long it'll take for you to put an end to this. there's only one way for him to find out.

#stilesworld!#void stiles x reader #stiles stilinski x reader #–𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍 🍒

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alwaysshallow · 7 months

Text

gorgeous, part 7

Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader

You're a vet with a pretty simple life.

One day though, things changes, when a big guy with a skull mask enters your clinic with a small, ginger kitten in his hands. (3,5k)

READ ON AO3

previous part

When you’re supposed to see Simon Riley for the thirteenth time, he doesn’t show up.

Not like it’s a surprise, but more of a disappointment, completely unnecessary one, given that he told you there might be complications. You didn’t even ask about them, knowing he’s not gonna tell you, and you didn’t really want to know what complications he had in mind, considering his work field.

You still don’t want to know, not like that changed.

Everything started almost two months ago; he called you around the end of your shift at your clinic, when you were cleaning with Bernie. Caught up in the process, you would almost miss the call if your employee wouldn’t catch it.

He wasn’t beating around the bush. After a small talk—that you knew he probably hated to do—he straight up asked, if you can take care of his cat for a few weeks, maybe a month. Time really was a tricky one here, considering that he had no idea since a mission could go sideways.

Without thinking about it twice, you agreed. Surprise was evident, as he got silent for a few seconds, then announced that he’s gonna be around five at your place the next day, to give you the cat.

With hope, you asked if it’s gonna be later five, as you hoped he didn’t mean the one in the morning; he only laughed at that, hanging up, and you just knew you’re not gonna get much sleep.

“I’m grateful you’re doin’ this,” he said, once he got here. Eyes on you, dark like a simple, black coffee. Luring you into his arms more and more, especially at five in the morning to seek some kind of comfort that you desperately needed, as you slept a few hours.

“I love this cat. And I have to somehow pay for your fatigue with finding me a good mechanic, don’t I?” You raised your eyebrow. He chuckled, amused, leaning against the frame of the entry door to your apartment.

You kept your mouth shut how badly you wanted him to just sit and have a simple tea. Just like he liked, you didn’t care. If he even wanted to, you could easily give him butter cookies that you made yesterday, they turned pretty decent.

“You don’t owe me anything, dove,” he murmured. One last look into your apartment; longing, as you noticed.

It’s hard to leave something behind yourself, knowing it’s the last time where he feels content. At least, you thought that he felt this way—he didn’t need to deal with anything else, but things that were only around a normal person’s day.

And he needed to leave this calm life for work.

“Shouldn’t be more than a month.” He broke the silence, looking at you again.

You tried to ignore the warm feeling, bubbling in your heart. Hot like a lava, sweet like a candy that you know you shouldn’t eat because you’ll get addicted; he only explained himself for the sake of the cat. Not because he felt like it’s right to do for you, or because he knew you’re gonna be worried. At least that’s what you tried to tell yourself. “Right. Where to, this time?”

“Iraq. And some countries along the way, depends,” he murmured, his lips in a thin line. With a sigh, he took a few steps into your apartment, enough to face you, his big frame towering over you significantly. You never felt so small in a good way. In a safe way.

“Depends. Get me a magnet, will you?” you asked, teasingly, hoping you didn’t cross some of a boundary here. His bark of a laugh calmed you with this a little bit. “What? I love magnets.”

“S’alright. ‘m gonna get you plenty,” he said—sarcastically, as you could sense—and leaned down a bit. “Anythin’ else?”

After a quick debate in your head if you should, you hugged him. Tight, your eyes closed, arms encircled around his body (at least, in a way you could because this man was massive). “Take care. And be safe.”

His body freezes a little; a cold cube against a heater like you, too tired to care, too afraid too. “Hard enough in a open field—”

“—just come home safe,” you said, not really thinking about the choice of your words. The aftermath came to you in a split second, warmness spreading on your cheeks. “I mean… home, as in, here. Fuck, not here, I meant, a place, this town—”

“—Sssh. I know.”

You both stayed in this position for a little while. You because he didn’t push you away, he… for other reasons, but whatever this reason was, when he backed out, you saw how much more relieved and relaxed he was. Like this hug did something to him, put him in the right place of mind, where he needed to be in the sake of whatever mission he faced that time.

“Gonna do my best to be safe.” He lifted your chin with his two fingers. “But you have to do the same thing.”

You barked a laugh, shaking your head with a little disbelief. Cute. “Not really a challenge in a town where nothing happens.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’d be surprised, dove. Just do as I said, can’t lose you.”

And with those words and a small wave (initiated by you), he was gone. The only sign that he was here was his cat and the smell; on you, but also on the things that he brought to your apartment in order to help you with taking care of his animal.

Now, it’s only a faded memory of his smell around, which has both you and Sparkles upset. You expected it, of course you did, but not that much. You haven’t expected the weird void in your chest whenever you look at the text he sent you weeks ago, when they arrived to Iraq.

Nothing after this. Radio silence, and even if you knew why, your stomach twists every time at the thought that something wrong could’ve happened. Would you even learn about that? Maybe from your best friend that is on team with him, maybe then, no other way. Or this Soap guy that seems to be familiar with you.

Either way, some of the nights are almost sleepless when you think about it.

The day he’s supposed to show up passes quickly.

Another two weeks after that too, and another two weeks. It’s a balance for you—clinic, house and Sparkles and occasional trips to the grocery store if you don’t have anything in the fridge. Everything is so mundane, and yet you feel like something’s off.

Like you miss something.

Someone, in that matter, but you don’t let that thought overwhelm you too much; it’s still so fresh.

You spend your birthday with a couple of friends, in your apartment. Small dinner, just to celebrate the day, as you don’t really feel like doing big things; or, going to the club, as you were previously doing every year. Now, not only that your best friend isn’t here because she’s on a mission to serve the country, Celia isn’t here either, as she had a family emergency or something like that. Ironic, yet, you just accept the fact and move on—it’s not like you have much else to do.

There’s gonna be another day to celebrate with them, you know it.

The complete irony though, comes to you when the power goes off in the whole building at three in the morning. There’s loud banging to your door that startles you awake and has Sparkles all hissing, annoyed, that someone abrupts her sleep like this.

You quickly shush her, then you put your robe on to answer whoever is outside.

And that’s no one else but your landlord; in his suit, as always, even if he comes in an ungodly hour like that to your apartment. There’s a quick chit-chat about the rent, prices coming up, so you should prepare for this. And finally, he says that power is gonna be off for a couple of hours. You bite the want to ask how many hours, smiling, instead.

“Lock in the front door doesn’t work. So consider that.”

Your smile drops after that.

You raise an eyebrow. “What do you mean it doesn’t work?”

The man shrugs, completely unfazed by your reaction. “It doesn’t. Power’s off, so the lock doesn’t work either.”

Simple words, simple message, yet, you can’t quite get this idea around your head, when you’re done talking with him. Simon’s words echoes in your mind, when you close the door, checking twice if all the locks are on.

You’d be surprised.

It’s not like you’re a particularly easy type to scare, but somehow, you find it hard to sleep this night, as you turn in bed multiple times in a span of an hour. Shadows suddenly transform to potential dangers, figures are coming out of the darkness. Primitive noises bring you out of the bed to check if something’s happening.

So, you decide it’s best to not sleep at all than to have a paranoia going around. Completely unnecessary one, but it’s not like you can help it.

You thank yourself in mind that you have candles; multiple, so you can easily light up the living room, making it a bit cozier when you lay on the couch with multiple pillows and blankets, a book in your hand. It has to work somehow, since you feel way better than in your bedroom.

Sparkles is around, too. Maybe she senses how you are feeling about the whole thing, but she keeps her distance. She seems way more interested in the dark than you are, jumping on kitchen counters, looking outside. From time to time, she invades the space near you, wanting some head scratches.

She’s just this way. On and off.

Like her owner—you think, sighing to yourself.

It’s hard not to think what Simon is up to these days. He’s probably in way darker places than your apartment right now, he’s probably way scared than you are. Or, is he? This man probably doesn’t even know the sense of being scared.

Or, maybe he just doesn’t show it cause everyone is scared of something at some point.

You don’t know, but you miss him. You miss the man that you met over four months ago just by accident because he found a kitten on a street. It’s a little bit ironic now, knowing how you grow attached to him, despite your “I won’t meet him anymore” mindset. Despite his closed personality that you desperately wanted to know a little bit closer.

You can’t help but think that he’s like a cat himself. Stray that will cling to you when you’ll give him food and then he decides what to do. Jumps from being away from you to being by your side full time—and you never know what he’s gonna do next.

Like Simon. Just like him, considering that you never guessed that you’re gonna babysit Sparkles, treating her as your own pet.

You play with your phone as you think about messaging him. Would it be wrong? Would it disturb him? It’s not like he’d have a phone in an open battlefield, you’re not sure if he has service wherever he is right now, either. But, if he happened to read it, maybe he’d feel great. Maybe he’d smile a little, knowing that someone remembers about him—here, in a calmer world, where probably he’d prefer to be, instead of an open battlefield.

And that someone also misses him. Not like you’d admit it in front of him, but it is a simple state of facts.

Book you picked up goes aside the moment you hear another knocking; done with the situation that already is, you almost jolt to the door. “Another problem with that building, or maybe I haven’t paid for something?”

You don’t see clearly, but when the person on the other side of the door lights up the corridor with a flashlight, you see no one other than Simon. He must see the annoyed look on your face because he tilts his head in a curious manner; probably thinking what he did to earn a warm welcome like this. “Nice to see you too.”

You avert your gaze; maybe you should check who it is, not only because of safety, but to not snap at someone innocent like him. “Sorry. Thought you’re my landlord,” you mutter, ignoring how he barks a laugh, loudly, then closes the door.

“Why is it so bloody dark in here? Haven’t paid the bills, tha’s why you don’t want to see him?” Simon quips. You roll your eyes, smiling under your nose nonetheless, knowing that he won’t see it. You missed him being around.

“Not really. Thought it’s gonna be creepier, you know. Sparkles likes that, just like her owner.” You shrug, following his steps, as he gets deeper into your apartment. Confident, like he actually belongs in the dark, not like you, frightened by it. It’s like he’s used to this.

“Her owner pays the bills, though. And even more,” you say, eyes directly on him. His blonde hair is shorter, not exactly a buzzcut, but close to it; messy, like he did the cut himself or someone who did it was drunk. Black surgical mask covers half of his face, but he’s still in his cargo pants and a bit of military attire, so you guess he came here almost immediately after landing.

You try to ignore how it makes your heart flutter, as he hands you something. “For you.”

“Oh.” You blink, eyes glued to the wrapped gift. It’s a messy wrap, way too much tape there and there, but it can’t wipe off the surprised smile on your face. Pattern is barely visible because of his struggle with packaging, but you recognize cats.

“...Thought it would be appropriate,” he says, breaking the silence, when you carefully open the layers of gift wrap. Multiple of them, when probably just one would be enough, but you do not comment on that. “A gift for takin’ care of Sparkles. And, for your birthday, even if they were a few weeks ago.”

You open your mouth a little. “How did you—”

“—I just remembered. ‘s all,” he cuts you off. Too fast, like he doesn’t want you to ask too many questions.

Too bad that you’re a curious individual.

You raise your eyebrow, amused. “Simon, I didn’t tell you when I have my birthday.”

He huffs, sitting comfortably on the couch. Manspreading, taking off his mask. He tosses it on the table, near the big candle you lit maybe an hour ago. “You did.”

You cross your arms on your chest. There’s a fire in you, slowly igniting; you need to push him a little into answering. Admitting what you know he did because there’s no power in the world to convince you that you told him. “I’d remember it.”

He rolls his eyes. They’re almost black in that dim light, as you sit right in front of him on the armchair. Dangerous, telling you to drop it. You almost hear it in your head. “Just unwrap the gift.”

“Did you…” you gasp. Theatrically, just to annoy him even more, as you see how his jaw tenses. “You looked through my account, hm? Instagram, probably? Facebook?”

“Suddenly a crime, that is?” A quick question; maybe a little nervous, but he’s more amused by your revelation. Or he’s putting on a facade.

“Not a crime. I find it funny that you just won’t admit it openly.” You stick out your tongue. “Like it is a crime. It’s just cute that you want to know something about me.”

“Yeah, yeah. Unwrap it finally, hm?”

It takes one eye roll from you to do what he says. Despite the messy packaging, you do it slowly, as you have no idea what is in there—and you really don’t want to ruin the gift, whatever it is.

That gets you thinking: in theory, he doesn’t know what you like. You reckon he doesn’t have experience in this type of field, as the guys in the military probably just buy each other a drink and call it a day. Here, it seems like he wanted to do something more than that, more memorable than taking you out.

There’s a high possibility that he asked your best friend, but you doubt that he’d do something like this. He seems like the type of man that would rather die and go his ways than actually asking someone for help. Especially in something so cheesy, maybe vulnerable for a guy like him, a machine out there in the field that doesn’t allow anyone to see what is going on inside his head.

It takes minutes, but you finally unwrap the gift, excited like a kid. Your hands shake a little when you see a small box—it takes one look at Simon, him nodding, and you open it, carefully. Like there’s something expensive in it, which, as you learn second later, is completely true.

Golden necklace with a hand stamped pendant; partially hidden sun behind the waves of the ocean. It’s delicate, nothing too fancy, but you know how pricey these things can be. It’s hard to find someone who does these things anyway, and now…

"I... don't know what to say,” you whisper out. Shocked, emotional. Not quite believing what you see right now.

He snorts. "A simple 'thank you' would be alright."

“Simon, it’s… beautiful. I just—”

“It’s nothing.” He shrugs, his gaze not meeting yours; he’s looking at Sparkles that bites his fingers right now in the little play they have. Unconsciously, you smile—there’s a thought in your head that you could honestly get used to this. Him, here on your couch, playing with his cat. Your cat, too. “Just a gift.”

“I’m gonna hit you,” you murmur, trying to fasten a necklace. It doesn’t work; you are either too distracted, or it’s literally impossible, so you look at your friend. “Could you…?”

You know that he’s amused by this first comment, when you see a glint in his eyes. “More a promise, than a threat.”

You sigh, smiling under your nose. It’s hard to ignore how excited you seem. “Help me, please?”

He doesn’t comment on that this time; just does what you asked him to. Slowly, observing how you take a look in the camera of your phone with a flash on, trying to get the best angle—and honestly, the necklace looks straight up from your dreams. Shiny, simple in a way, but so meaningful considering that Simon had to take care of it on deployment.

Or, earlier. Nonetheless, the gesture itself makes you feel giddy inside.

“Pretty,” he hums, tilting his head to the side. Focusing not only on jewelry, but partially looking at your face too, maybe wanting to get your reaction. Too focused on your gift, you don’t see how his jaw tightens and he has to inhale.

“Pretty,” you agree—and you finally look at him. He doesn’t say anything for a good minute, just looks at your mirror reflection. “Something’s wrong?”

“I should get going.”

You blink, confused. Right now? Right now he has to go, when he just came here… five, ten minutes ago? You try to find if you did anything wrong, but nothing comes to your head. “What?”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly thinking about something. You aren’t allowed to go there. “I just… should. You had enough of my shit goin’ around, you have to get some sleep.”

Desperately, you try to grab on whatever excuse you can to prevent him from going. You just got him back, you don’t quite understand why he wants to go right now. Not when you just were talking with him. “What? No, you can… stay, it won’t do any damage.”

“I have to get some too. Besides, I came here on foot, so—”

“—It’s dark, do you even think? I can drive you on my way to work, if you don’t have anything to do.”

“Dove—”

“Please, Simon.” It leaves your mouth quicker than you wanted to. A plea, something you’d normally be too embarrassed to say, if the conditions would be different. Right now, you can’t care less when you had him only for minutes.

“Just—”

“—seriously. Stay. You can sleep on the couch, whatever, but I won’t let you go when you’re tired as shit. I want you to relax, have a coffee or tea, hell, I can even make you a sandwich because it doesn’t require—” you stop, only a surprised gasp leaving your mouth, as he pulls you into his lap. Confident, like a conversation minute ago didn't happen at all.

“You ever… stop talkin’?” He tilts his head to the side. You can’t tell if he’s rather amused or… else.

You shake your head. “Not really.”

“Figured that out,” he murmurs, a hand on your cheek. “I’ll stay, just stop. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“And make those sandwiches.” Simon gets up with you, snaked around his figure. When you don’t back out, he raises his eyebrow—a clear indication for you to take a step back; which, you do.`

He cuts some vegetables, when you move candles to the kitchen to see better, playing with your necklace. Doing that, you see something that you missed when you first looked at the jewelry.

There’s a little “S” on the back of the pendant.

He personalized it.

#simon riley x reader #simon riley #x reader #cod x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #ghost call of duty #ghost x you #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #simon riley fluff

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the-goddess-of-mischief-writing · 7 months

Text

Chocolates and euphoria

pairing: cpt. John Price x reader (cod mw)

tags/tw: afab!reader, nsfw, food play, p in v, unprotected sex, desperate sex, slight cockwarming, 18+ so minors please DNI

a/n: a late valentines blurb inspired by this post

John Price MASTERLIST

Just imagine John Price not greeting you by the door when you come home from work, and he's returned from deployment while you were away. Instead, he answers your greeting by beckoning you further into your shared flat with an 'In here, love'.

You drop your things to the floor, more concerned with seeing Price after weeks of him gone than the temporary shucked-off and slipped-out jacket you leave behind in the foyer.

Your flat is not big, but his voice had been faint enough that you know he must be in the bedroom, probably unpacking his stuff, sorting what needs a wash -more or less everything- from the weapons that needed to be locked into the gun-safe.

Imagine your shock when pushing the door open to not find him straightening from a bent-over position of his bag on the bed but sprawled in it with only a measly bit of the duvet, the one you changed yesterday just because you knew how much Price likes to come home and feel free from sand and dirt, over his crotch, legs partly intertwined but giving you a tantalising view of his bare thighs down to his shins, hands behind the pillow propping his head up. You stall, freezing in the entrance as you blink, perplexed at the sight you couldn't even imagine finding your Captain. Not even in your wildest dreams.

"Happy Valentine's, love."

His greeting falls on partly deaf ears. You hadn't given it much thought, even if it was hard not to notice the copious amount of red, pink and white hearts or love-shaped everything you'd passed the last few days on your way home from work. But with a heart-shaped box of chocolate square on top of Price's crotch, it clicks in your head that the 14th of February coincided with his return home.

You let out a short laugh because you seriously don't know how to react to what your eyes rove over again and again.

"Not appreciatin' the welcome-home gift I've got for you?"

Despite the slight shuffle as he props himself on his elbows and the box of chocolates sliding nearly too much to not tug the duvet down with it, your eyes ascend until they meet Price's.

There's an evident mirth practically shining in them, crow's feet highlighted in the edge of his eyes as he attempts to fend off his smile.

With the lack of any and all seriousness concerning the situation, you purse your lips, head ducking into a shake as you can't contain an amused chuckle, moving from your spot.

"Love it", you can barely get the words out. Your feigned straight face crackles as you walk closer, eyebrows scrunching together, chest convulsing from trying to not break into another laugh. "My very own hairy Cupid".

It's Price who breaks the facade with a timbre low chuckle and head craning back as you slow down when reaching the edge of the bed.

"I tried." He gives you a shrug, and you notice the now upward tug of his lips once he looks up at you.

"A very appreciated attempt", you giggle, settling on the side of the bed, leaning to the centre where Price rests.

He meets you halfway, pulling you closer with one hand clutching the back of your neck, almost dragging you down as well, and you need to catch yourself against the mattress in your now twisted position. You both chuckle into the kiss as the chocolates rattle in their casing after your hasty movement and Price's shuffle to get closer to you.

"God, how did you think of this?" You glance down his body towards the most eye-catching object at the moment, smile ever-present like the silent laughter in your eyes when they return to meet him.

"Gaz showed me a not-so-subtitle photo he thought was funny". You closed your eyes, chuckling at the mental image of the situation.

"Should thank him the next time I see him". Price rolls his eyes when you look at him again.

"You and Kyle bother me as much off duty as them two sergeants do on". He scoffs fondly.

You cock your head, bottom lip jutted out. "Don't be too hard on them".

"Easier to chew their ear off than your pretty face", he murmurs deeply with a considerable drop in his voice. "C'mere".

Rather than give in to his pull, fall deeper into the closeness he beckons you; you pull away with a giggle and crawl down the bed until you settle between his legs.

He cocks his head, both elbows now planted on the bed again as he stares down at you, eyeing how your kneeling form is hidden beneath your skirt, the fabric flowing out and filling the space he'd unconsciously given you between his legs.

"Not where I imagined you".

You place a hand on Price's abdomen when he goes to sit up, pursuing your lips with a feigned sad furrow between your brows. "Why? Where else would I be able to taste the chocolates you gave me, John?".

What's not hidden in the perfectly innocent face you pull and direct at him is the glint in your eyes and the way you rap your fingers against his stomach rather than pulling your hand back to your side. But Price decides to play into it.

"Be my guest", he waves his hands towards the box, somehow still balancing enough to keep the small part of Price's covered front hidden.

Oh, imagine the nearly audible gulp, that delicious heave of his chest you only managed to pull out when catching him off-guard, as your slightly cold hands settle high on his thighs as you bend down, keeping eye contact with those blues intently watching, as your lips slot around one of the chocolates, leaning away only when it's securely clutched between your teeth, only for you to raise a hand and with one finger push it into your mouth.

You hum in content, eyes fluttering as you wiggle a little with a smile, no doubt the taste of chocolate spurring your reaction. But Price's imagination is running rampant, the box of chocolates a plastic shield between where your mouth was and the very place all his blood now is flowing to. The taste he wants to fill your mouth is not that creamy delight that's excited you all in your teasing.

You raise your brows as you lick your lips, watching him. Price blinks out of his stupor when you cock your head, realising you're waiting on something.

"What?" His rough and hastily asked question makes you giggle.

"I asked if you want to taste one?"

Price nearly misses your question again when you start stroking your hands up and down his upper thighs, fingers brushing over the place where his thigh joins with his hip. But he does notice your vixen-like offer, purred in that innocently-laced voice you like to dip into when you play with him. And, like always, he walks head-first into the allure of sirens.

"Go on then".

You bite your lower lip in anticipation as you pluck one of the heart-shaped sweets and lean over his body to reach his lips. Price's hands find your waist, stabilising you as he cranes his neck, snagging the chocolates from your fingers, making sure to excessively lick the pad of your fingers in the process. An adorable scrunch of your nose is the reaction he searches for and is rewarded with.

Price only smirks as he falls down against the pillow as he bites into the chocolate.

"So?" You remain hovering above him, both hands now resting beside his head.

"Good, but not as sweet as you". He squeezes your waist.

"God, you're such a flirt tonight". You chuckle with a roll of your eyes.

"Mhm?" He hums in return, the edge of his lip upturned when you look down at him again

"Mhm", you reply, tongue rolling over your lips before catching it between your teeth, offering a smile in return.

A low sound vibrates deep in his chest, his voice sending shivers down your spine. It's silent for a few seconds as you look at one another before gravitating closer.

Your lips are soft compared to Price's slightly chapped ones, telling you he continues to vehemently avoid the chapstick you send along with him when he's deployed, but they're equally as sweet, the taste of chocolate fresh as he slips his tongue into your mouth. He groans appreciatively at your willingness, readily intertwining your tongue with his with a slight sigh.

Price wants you flush against him, feel you after weeks away from you, but when his hand travels to the curve of your back, arms about to wrap around you, you pull away, eyes fluttering open.

"They're different kinds?" You light up; this time, it's hard for Price to know if it's genuine curiosity as your attention falls to the box perched on his lap again. But when you hastily sit down on your haunches again, he can't help but chuckle, watching you pick up another chocolate with intrigue.

Neither of you had anticipated the caramel suddenly pouring out of the half-bitten heart, making you jerk slightly forward. With wide eyes, our gaze falls to the light-brown liquid having dripped onto Price, your eyes flickering between the pooling of fluid in the dip of his hips.

You giggle, and with a quick flicker of your eyes to his and then down again, Price knows what's coming before you move, your intention shining like a beacon in your eyes as you stuff the last bit of chocolate into your mouth and swallow quickly.

He feels the groan rumbling in his chest even before you lick a broad stripe along the skin not hidden by the box or covers. The press of your tongue so close to where he's throbbing for you makes his eyes flutter but never close fully, hips jumping, disturbing the box somehow still resting on his lap. Far longer than he'd anticipated originally.

"God, women", he groans. "That's 'nough of that", Price finally caves to your teasing, hard as a fucking rock and nearly breaking out in a sweat at the swings between lewd and sweet actions you've put him through the last few minutes.

He moves the box of chocolates aside, gently enough for none to escape the box, and tugs you forward until you sprawl over his naked chest. You have the nerve to giggle, but it quickly turns to a gasp as he rolls you over, his weight pressing you into the bed.

The flimsy part of the duvet between his crotch and your lower stomach does nothing to hide his hard and heavy girth pressing into your still-clothed. But as he urges you on your front, nothing but your clothes limits his access as he kicks away the duvet altogether, grinding against your backside with heady rolls of his hips.

"Fuck, missed you, love", he would drawl so sickly hot but sweet at the same time into your ear, making you arch against him. Price would it as encouragement, undoing the sip along the small of your back before tugging your skirt form your body, throwing it aside with much less care than the box of chocolates. Your shirt soon met the same fate.

And when you lay in nothing but your undergarments, you would feel something being placed on your spine, but before managing to crane your neck to see what it is, Price's thumb would crush what you quickly realised is a piece of chocolate filled with caramel, smearing it along your back. Your mouth drops open, eyes flittering to meet his gaze rather than down your back. He's grinning, satisfied his payback worked.

Price would keep your gaze as he lowered himself until close enough to your back that you couldn't see him as much as feel his hot tongue collect the mess he made. You would gasp, head jerking forward, face pressing between the pillows and the mattress. Feeling him hum pleasantly at the taste of you combined with the treat coating his tongue would make the hair on your body stand at its end, your back arching like a wave to get as close to Price's tongue as possible. His chest swells from how reactive you're to him, nearly crooning when he grasps at the fleshy part of your hips, digging his fingers into your skin, eliciting a muffled mewl.

He would take your bra off while licking your skin clean of the treat he smeared across your body, rewarding you with a cheeky nip of his teeth as you wiggle out of the fabric he then discards somewhere.

While Price would pepper kisses all over your back, shoulders and up to the nape of your neck, one hand would slide between your legs, past your panties and graze right over your weeping pussy. A small gasp leaves you as your hips move a fraction, your head now practically going lax at being surrounded by him.

His fingers do wonders to your clit, and more choked sounds leave you as he plays with your body like he never had left and returned with new callouses on his palms rubbing sinfully against you.

The very patience Price is known for, and the cool-headedness everyone who meets him praises, would snap so quickly you could think all those comments were for a facade he kept up. But seeing you desperate, whimpering, whining, arching and grinding back against his hot cock pressed against your ass would do things to the most stoic man.

He wouldn't even bother taking off your panties. Your more than naked state enough for him to paw and grab at. They would merely be pushed aside, hoked somehow to the side by your thigh and ass as he guides the head of his cock over your heat. Low groans and bordering gruffs would press from his lungs while moans and staggering breaths leave you as he guides his cock over your heat to collect your wetness.

Price would groan in pleasure when he finally pushes all the way into you in one slow push, burying his cock so deep inside, the thick head of it kissing a spot that only he can reach. You always felt tighter, wetter the first time he fucked you with all the pent-up frustration and adrenaline yet to subside from his body after a tour.

His burly body would envelop yours as he fell down to his elbows, holding you close as the slow rock of his hips soon picked up speed, the sound of his hips smacking against your ass filling the room.

Your walls would throb, squeezing tightly around his girthy shaft as he pumps in and out of you, whining into the pillows you'd buried your head into before craning your neck to the side his hot breath fanned from.

The kiss would be uncoordinated, tongues intertwining and lips slipping before remaining open as you panted and moaned against each other. Everything tastes of chocolate and euphoric highs as a particularly lewd mewl escapes your mouth and vibrates against his. Price's beard would scrape against your chin and jaw, the scratchy feeling making you roll it onto your shoulder as it added to your overall pleasure, giving him access to your neck. He would shower the newly offered skin in kisses that wouldn't fade just because his lips left, giving some extra love to the sweet spot below your ear that made you clench so deliciously around him.

Your orgasm would crash over you a second later, body twitching, mouth remaining open, panting against the side of his face as he growled a 'there you fuckin' go, feels so good flutterin' 'round me' straight against the shell of your ear.

Price doesn't let up, fucking faster and harder into your pussy while your brows would crease against his forehead as he tries to dip his head to taste you again. But he can't, his own open-mouthed groans met by nothing but overstimulated puffs of silence from you.

And then his thrusts started to get sloppy, bucking every few times until he moaned against your mouth whilst spilling deep inside you, hips rocking and pushing against your ass as if to climb into you.

Price's body weight would press against your back, your arm worming out from beneath your body and around his neck to let him know he could take his time, you didn't mind his heft against you. He would worm his arms around your body, one circling your waist, the other your chest, huffing a sigh of bliss, pleased by your nails raking against the nape of his neck as you caught your breaths.

There was no doubt you'd have to change the sheets again later, either because of the mixed fluids you could feel trickle out of you or the chocolates that, without a doubt, had stained the white duvet.

Taglist: @starlitselkie @melancholyy-hill @redheadonfire20

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vegaseatsass · 3 months

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My Stand-In Episode 10

Just a few scattered notes of things I have on my mind.

I have been very very very obsessed with the moment where Joe breaks up with Ming after Ming's mom went in on them. See, originally I took Joe at his word: He's tired. He's tired of the constant melodrama, the neverending battle just to exist. Ming and his family already killed Joe once, he just wants some quiet contentment and to not feel like he's fighting for his life every time he holds his boyfriend's hand. Honestly, I really loved that, that their breakup this episode wasn't a contrived fight full of blame and accusation, but was simply Joe realizing he's too exhausted and walking away.

But then it hit me like a load of bricks, that no, actually. Joe didn't end things in that moment because he wants peace and quiet. He left before Ming could hurt him again. He left because he didn't believe Ming would stand up to his mother or his family - or more like, he didn't want to let himself start hoping he could, and get disappointed. Since the funeral, Ming has been giving Joe everything he ever wanted Ming to give him and more (I mean if you don't count "respecting his boundaries" as something Joe wants but 1. Ming is kiiiinda starting to get there by the end of this ep lmao? 2. I'm talking about everything Joe wants to feel from Ming on a visceral level, more than what would make his relationship safe and sane). Ming has been telling Joe over and over again that he loves him, showing Joe over and over that he chooses him, showing Joe at every turn that Tong is nothing to him. No matter how much Joe or Ing push Ming or test Ming, Ming just keeps coming back and reaffirming his commitment to Joe, adapting to who Joe is now and offering him anything and everything he can give, sincerely, determinedly vowing to put him first. Joe has been trying so hard not to let himself want it or believe in it, but by the time they're in that meeting room with Ming's mom, he is back in honeymoon mode with Ming, truly starting to believe he gets to have the kind of relationship (two-sided. equal. where Joe is taken care of and spoiled and chased, not just the caretaker and spoiler and chaser) it used to feel too greedy to dare hope for.

And then Ming's mom reminds him of how easy (Joe thinks) it will be for Ming to pull the rug out from under him again, and send it all crashing down. Just like in his first life in honeymoon mode, when he realized Ming was here for Tong and not him, that this relationship that was making him feel so whole and safe was all a lie.

Like with something as big as breaking with a family that will never accept his sexuality, Joe has no instinct to "test" Ming or give him an ultimatum. I don't actually think it's with real disappointment in Ming himself that Joe gives up on Ming choosing him before Ming even gets the chance to try. I think Joe is probably completely sympathetic to the choice he expects Ming to make, and intellectually, doesn't begrudge it of him, the way he would (or should) begrudge so many of the actual terrible things Ming has done to him. But it still hurts so much to have reality force its way into their bubble, and remind Joe that even Ming trying his absolute hardest can't protect Joe from feeling that crushing loss again. So he takes himself away from the situation before it has the opportunity to hurt him again.

Idk if I'm getting at why I'm so obsessed with this, but there's just something to me about how happy Joe must have been feeling at Ming's side, to need to proactively remove himself from the situation to avoid getting his heart shattered like those mugs. Like "I'm tired" means "I can't do these high-lows anymore. I can't feel this good and have it taken away again." This is exactly why he's been trying so so so hard to freeze his heart around Ming: So he's not vulnerable to the particular kind of hurt he never recovered from in his first life.

And I just find it very moving that the source of that hurt this time isn't Ming making disastrous choices. It's something neither Ming nor Joe has control over. And Joe knows that! But it still hurts too much to hope and want things.

Meanwhile, Ming is like: Hope and want whatever you want, beloved. I am now Mr. Makes Shit Happen. I can do anything as long as you're alive in this world.

Which is another thing I've been thinking a lot about. Sol and Ming both trying to make themselves into these superperson supershields so things will be Different This Time, and smacking up against some natural end limits to their abilities. For Sol, no matter how hard he turns himself upside down trying to make himself into someone Joe can pick instead of Ming, the attraction will never be there, and Ming always WILL be there, reminding Joe of his feelings for him. For Ming, the limit on his absolutely determined devotion to Joe is his family. And Sol and Ming, both trying so hard to be bigger and more than they are, when they come face to face with their limit still refuse to back down. No matter how laughably futile it is.

To me, Ming standing there looking all tiny at the bottom of the stairs with his dad looming at the top is the equivalent of how manically out of his element trying to do the impossible Sol was in episode 9. But just like Sol, Ming can't stop now. No matter what happens in episode 11, Ming has to try to fight this impossible fight. Neither of them is willing to leave anything on the table after losing Joe once before.

Idk I wonder if they will have to work together before the end hahaha... we'll see.

I had more thoughts but this is once again a monster post so I will end by simply reiterating how amazing and hilarious I think it is that Tong tried to get Ming to pay him HUNDREDS OF MILLIONS OF BAHT for the privilege of removing the only source of happiness from his life. Like come to the meeting room, Ming! Let's make a deal where you go back to being depressed and alone, and give me all the money I want! Surely this will work out in a way where we can both walk out satisfied! The lion the witch and the audacity of this bitch <3 <3 <3 <3

#my stand in #my stand in the series #my stand in spoilers #dear diary #why does it take me so many words to express such simple thoughts and feelings #i don't feel like i even got across what i wanted to with sol and ming though which is that they're both so tiny #and like inadequate for their own purposes #trying to puff themselves up and make themselves able to fill so many more roles #do so many more things #anything it takes #than they'll ever be capable of. it moves me #ming practiced making instant noodles over and over....#mingjoe

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viking-chaos · 4 months

Text

I genuinely don't know what this is. I just had to get it out. It hasn't been proofread or anything, and it was typed in my phone, so there are probably a lot of mistakes. I mostly just needed to get back into the swing of writing, so yeah, this is what it is.

Failed Hunt

Warnings: I don't think there is much. Mostly just some fluff, very very mild sexual content. Some mild language. That's it.

Summery: Just you and Sihtric messing up a hunt. Why can't this be my life??? 😫😫😫😫

I don't really have a taglist, so I'm just going to tag my Sihtric moots, and if you want to be added or removed, just send a message: @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @whitedarkmoonflower @thenameswinter99 @solinarimoon @foxyanon

Oh, why had you agreed to this hunt? Why, when there were so many things that could go wrong. And it seemed, in one day, the one day you decided to take up your husband's offer to join him in his hunt, everything that could go wrong had gone wrong.

You could be at home, warm, safe, cooking whatever you bought from the butchers, instead of here in the middle of nowhere, freezing your arse off, with nothing to eat, nothing to bring home. Add to that, you were soaking wet, and not in a good way. Your husband had wandered off to gods knew where in search of food.

You poke at the near smouldering fire with a stick, hoping to coax it to life and warm you. A small part of you imagined it was your idiot husband you were poking. He deserved it for dragging you out here.

The day had started perfectly. You had woken up, safe and warm, in your bed with your husband. He kissed you tenderly, whispering sweet nothings in your ear until you were roused into wakefulness.

“Good morning,” he murmured as you snuggled into his muscled chest.

You mumbled something along the lines of “good morning Sihtric” back at him, although you were not quite awake enough to speak yet.

This morning would have been utter perfection, if it weren't for him reminding you of your promise.

“We are to hunt today, my love,” he whispered.

You opened your eyes and glared at him. He just chuckled at your expression.

It took some time for Sihtric to coax you out of bed, luring you with the promise of a nice hot bath at the end of the day, as well as a hearty meal of deer. You grumbled all while pulling on your clothes and preparing for a day in the woods.

Somehow, you convinced yourself that going on a hunt would not be such a bad thing. You would get to spend time in the open air with your husband. Perhaps, if you were good, he would make love to you on your return.

And Somehow, it all went wrong.

Well, not immediately.

As you left the toastyness of your shared home, you were almost happy you had agreed. It was fun sneaking out of Coccham so early in the morning before the sun had risen. You and Sihtric giggled like you did before you married, when you were still in that phase where you couldn't believe this handsome man had chosen you, of all people, to be his woman.

That was the end of the perfect morning.

It rained. Heavily.

It was not long before you were both soaked to the skin. At least, Sihtric seemed to still be enjoying himself, while your teeth chattered as the cold seeped to your bones.

“Sihtric!” you called as he scampered ahead. “Slow down!”

He paused for a moment, smiling from ear to ear. “Come on!” he beckoned, before continuing to bound further into the woods.

“Sihtric!”

You cried out as you tripped over a tree root, landing face first in a muddy puddle.

As you rose, coughing and spluttering, Sihtric howled with laughter.

You scowled at him, wiping mud from your face. He only laughed harder.

“Perhaps we should go back,” you said, glowering.

“Why should we when we are having fun?” he said jovially.

You threw some of the mud at him. “I am cold and tired, Sihtric. We haven't caught anything either!”

His smile faded, and he bundled you up in his damp furs.

“It is getting too late to find our way back,” he explained. “We will have to make camp. Luckily our bedrooms are still dry.”

And now here you sat, trying to coax the fire to life while waiting for Sihtric to return with some food.

By the time you finally got the fire going, the sound of your husband crashing through the trees announced his return. Tied to his belt were a few dead rabbits that he had successfully caught for your meal.

As the meat cooked, you peeled off your layers of damp cloths, leaving them hanging from low branches. You wrapped yourself in your bedroll, and sat in front of the fire, eating pieces of meat from your hunting knife.

“Are you alright?” Sihtric asked, breaking the silence between you. You gave him a glare in response. “I am sorry this hunting trip did not go well.” You said nothing, still glowering. “We will still have a warm bath when we get home?” he added hopefully.

You scoffed at ‘we’.

He hung his head in shame. You sighed, feeling pity for this handsome warrior who tried so hard.

“You can share my bedroll tonight to keep me warm,” you conceded, shaking your head and smiling.

Sihtric grinned and started stripping off his wet clothes, while you stared appreciatively.

He snuggled into the roll behind you, nuzzling and leaving soft kisses on your neck.

Exhaustion was quick to overtake you.

“My love?” Sihtric murmured just as started dozing off.

“Mmm?”

“Will I get to join the bath tomorrow?” he asked, subtly palming your breast.

“Take your hand off my tits and I'll think about it.”

#the last kingdom #sihtric #sihtric saturday #sihtric kjartansson #sihtric x reader #sihtric x you #sihtric fic #sihtric tlk #the last kingdom fanfic #tlk fanfic #tlk fic

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yi3248 · 2 months

Note

what’s your favorite roach headcanon?

hi anon!! sorry it took so long. your ask came in just as i decided to rewatch mw2 gameplay to refresh my memory so it took a While, but its finally here! it's a bit messy. feel free to ask if there's something specific you want an opinion of :D

i subscribe to the headcanon that he is selectively mute

was found hiding in a closet, somehow chilling with a cockroach in there

on another note, he finds the closet to be a comfortable place to be in, when everything gets too much. a makeshift barrier from everything

likes smooth peanut butter

when he was in primary school, while dropping him off, his mom got fed up with his nonverbal responses. parked near the gates, wants to know why he was being so difficult

(it wasnt on purpose. he wasnt trying to be difficult. he felt so exposed, through the windows, like other students could just know why he was locked in there, why they were taking too long to simply drop off someone)

hates tomatoes

likes the sweet kind of chili sauce

wears whatever graphic tees at his disposal when on leave

does dress up once in a while though, but like, for wildly mundane occasions

i want to say he has slightly bad vision (near-sighted) but its corrected with his goggles. doesnt wear the goggles on base, when hes not in immediate battle

either skips leg days, or hes the type who has difficulty building strength in his lower limbs

still trying to reason out why he failed 2 jumps lmao. since he was able to shake his pursuers in hornet’s nest, his running and jumping muscles should also be adequate. maybe as mactavish’s journal says, his gear was weighing him down (dear god, there was a lot of parallels mactavish drew in btwn him and roach)

likes snow. likes any snow activities. doesnt like how it freezes him though

probably hid in the toilet when there was a fire drill evacuation practice at school

roach and mactavish wouldve spend some time in the same room, quietly jotting out their thoughts on the mission in their respective journals

or even lets their frustration shine through. about their lack of ability to be better, to be more efficient (this was a common theme in mactavish’s journal. regrets and aftermaths)

a steady hand forces him to stop engraving his regrets deeply into a page. eyes snap up, mouth ready to follow along until he meets roach’s heavy gaze. he huffs, the exhaled air carrying some of his tension away, the shroud of distress slowly dissipates, but it lingers

he has his own team, and the burden, the need to watch them get through to the other end all safe and sound is so juxtaposed in their career. it is inevitable, but he can still try. they can be better, stronger, less chances to be picked off

he shakes his head, patting roach’s arm. “what? yer want to take a gander at my words?” he tuts, closes his journal with a snap, a wry smirk on his face. “go put that curiousity to proper work.” he ushers roach to the training area, ignoring roach’s pointed look of distaste

(dimly, he wonders if he will follow in price’s footsteps. if roach will assimilate some of his habits to remember him, in some sort of way. we’re all amalgamations of all the people we have met, naturally)

((as he yells into the comms for an answer that never comes, he doesnt have a chance to find out))

hates the water on base. it tastes different

somehow enjoys playing the mobile ads games more than the actual game

#call of duty #gary roach sanderson #cod mw2 #cod roach #ask #john soap mactavish #cod #for the anon who asked about ghostroach headcanons: please wait for a while... i want to reread riley's comic again b4 i answer #spoilers

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savannahsdeath · 1 year

Text

SOCCER!ELLIE WILLIAMS X CHEERLEADER!READER

PART 4FOUR

part 5five

part 3three

mdni please<3

summary: the news broke you and left you confused. eventually, everything started to clear up and you managed to choose - decide who is trustworthy, and who is bad for you. but did you pick the right person? who was the villain all along?

warnings: language, mentions of cheating, trust issues and manipulating, but i think its minors safe overally!!

writers note: a longer chapter finally and well, things got a little complicated..🫣

you stayed in your room for the rest of the day. ellie didn't call nor text you, she just let you think, just like you asked her to. the last thing you needed now were interactions with her.

vi, on the other hand, seemed to be curious about how things are now. for the past months you hated her, but now, since she turned out to be innocent, she deserved your reply. you patiently answered her questions, before you received a notification from her with a question that made you freeze.

vi: so are you going to forgive her?

you just stared at the text for a few minutes. that was it, the moment to pick - the person you loved, but probably already moved on with, or the person that loved you to the point she was ready to ruin your relationship to get with you. perfect.

after a long moment, you typed out a 'safe' answer, to avoid choosing any of them; 'what should i do in your opinion?'

you didn't wait long for a response, which didn't help, but also didn't surprise you.

vi: you think im going to tell you to forgive the girl whos responsible for spreading rumors about me cheating? because, honestly, i will, if thats what you want

you sighed, and set your phone down on the table, feeling conflicted. everything you thought you knew was now turned upside down.

ellie, who you had always thought of as a teammate (maybe you weren't on her football team, but you cheered for it, so it counts), had actually been the one to spread the rumors about vi's supposed cheating.

but you couldn't hate ellie, because she had been doing this out of love, not malice. she had loved you so much that she had been willing to go to extreme lengths to get your attention.

was it really fair to blame her for this?

you managed to ignore every notification sound for some time, but eventually you had to turn on do not disturb mode. you fell back on the bed, hoping to get some sleep, despite the early time. that was probably the only option to escape the negative thoughts.

you didn't know how many hours passed, but you were finally on the edge of consciousness when someone knocking fully woke you up. you stood up and brushed your hair with your fingers, walking towards the door. there were many options, maybe it's the postman, maybe your best friend.. right, your best friend! you didn't talk with her for a few days now, the poor girl probably thinks you're mad at her. you wanted to believe it was her, but deep down you knew it wasn't.

there's only two possibilities.

your teeth clenched around your bottom lip to the point you felt a metalic taste of blood on your tongue. you opened the door.

there was vi standing on your doorstep, her arms crossed, as usually, but not in an intimidating gesture this time.

"can i?" she asked, pointing with her chin to the entrance. her voice was soft, softer than you were used to hear from her, as she probably understood how you feel.

you nodded, and opened the door for her. your mind was still in debate, but your body was doing its best to be polite. that could be a good reason why vi had showed up to speak with you.

"sure." you mumbled.

you stood aside as she walked in. she took off her jacket and folded it over her arms, her mouth opened as if ready to speak.

"thanks." she smiled. "are you busy?"

you shook your head, taking a seat on the couch and waiting for vi to start speaking. you knew she wants something, and there was no point in delaying it.

she sat down next to you, her movements were slow and cautious. "i know you're shocked but.. we're worried. me and ellie. i don't talk with her, but it's obvious. we can't wait for your move forever, and everytime we talk, you just.. disappear."

she was right. you did that today, too. you just couldn't stand talking, especially not with them. you didn't know who to believe and, at some point, you didn't believe anything anymore. that's why you missed classes. that was the easiest way to avoid all of the lies.

you snapped out of your thoughts and looked at vi. she looked serious, and even though her voice was soft, her naturally tough appearance ruined the delicate facade.

"sorry." your mind was still in a fog. you didn't know what to do. you couldn't believe that ellie would do such a thing behind your back, but you couldn't be mad at her. "i don't know what to say." you sighed. "ellie told me everything. about how she had been the one to spread those rumors and... it caught me by surprise. i don't know how to feel about it."

vi's expression became serious, but she still tried to remain calm and speak softly.

"do you love ellie?" she asked, staring at you intensely.

you froze, again. the word 'love' seemed too strong, too serious. you were scared of it. plus, vi was your ex girlfriend, and talking about your love life with her seemed inappropriate.

you thought for a few good minutes about the answer. you considered what'll happen if you'd say yes, and what if you'd say no. you also considered saying 'i don't know' or changing the topic.

but you realized you can't answer this question. not because you aren't sure of the answer, but because you aren't sure what does it even mean.

you didn't know what is love. you thought you loved vi, but then again, you got hurt by her. then it turned out it wasn't her fault, but ellie's - a girl you started falling for.

you sighed. "what do you consider 'love' ?"

she frowned for a short second, before looking down. "it's not something we have. i couldn't move on the whole time because- you had to know the truth. now that you know it... i don't think i'm needed in your life anymore. so i won't blame you if you'll forgive ellie. unlike her, i won't slander her just to ruin your potential relationship."

you felt like you need to give vi a proper answer.

"you're right. i don't know what love is. i don't even think ellie knows either. but..." you let out a deep sigh, and looked her in the eyes. "i want to try and find out."

"then you should talk with her." she stood up and slowly walked towards the door, with you following her. "i'm glad we're ending this.. like that."

you nodded. "no hard feelings."

she walked off your house after putting her jacket back on. she stopped at the doorstep, quietly repeated; "no hard feelings", in a pensive tone, before shrugging it off and walking away.

you ran up to your room and picked up your phone. it was something about 4 p.m., you'll make it for ellie's football practice.

────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

vi's words had stuck with you, and you felt that you couldn't just ignore ellie and continue your life. you had to talk with her. you had to hear her side of the story, and then you'd make a decision. if you truly liked ellie, you had to give her a chance. and you weren't sure if you do truly like her, but you hoped you'll be closer to finding out after this meeting.

you made your way over to the football field, where you saw ellie with her team. she was chatting up with a few of her friends, all of them seeming relaxed and happy.

you didn't see her since that day, you didn't know how will the conversation go. the rest of the team, also responsible for spreading the gossip, probably figured out why aren't you coming to their practices.

you took a deep breath, slowly making your way to her. she wasn't as happy as the rest of her team, but you were glad to see she didn't completely break, unlike you.

she saw you after a few seconds and quickly walked up to you with a concerned expression. before you could say anything, she wrapped her arms around you, burying her face in your neck. that was a brave move, since you could as well come here to tell her you don't forgive her. luckily for her, the situation was different.

"i'm glad you're here." she whispered, her thumbs softly stroking your back.

you didn't know what to say. you just leaned against her, slowly realising you made the right choice.

"i'm sorry." she added in a barely audible voice.

"don't be." you finally spoke up. "i know you regret that."

she let go of you but her hands stayed on your shoulders, as she looked at you to make sure you really mean what you're saying.

ellie seemed genuinely sorry for what she had done, and you couldn't blame her for that. you knew she was wrong, but you also knew that she only did it because she had liked you.

"well, actually, i think you have all the right reasons to be sorry." you said with a soft laugh, hoping to get rid of the tension. "you know exactly how you made me feel."

you both stood there for a few seconds, as if both of you were trying to process what had just happened.

then, as if breaking a spell, ellie spoke up again. "well, did you at least get to talk with vi?"

"i did." you sighed, feeling slightly embarrassed.

"and...?" she waited for details.

ellie didn't seem to let the words bother her, and she simply waited to hear what you had to say. she seemed to trust you, and she wasn't worried about the outcome of your conversation with vi.

"we're good. she cleared her name and that's all she needed. she won't bother me- i mean, us anymore." you explained with a small shrug, hoping to leave it in the past already.

but suddenly, one of ellie's teammates came closer to you.

"vi cleared her name?" the girl asked with a frown. you nodded, but before you could elaborate, she continued. "since when can cheaters clear their name?" she scoffed, adding a quiet; 'disgusting.'

your gaze hopefully shifted between her and ellie. "i know the whole cheating story was made up, there's no need to play along anymore."

"made up?" another girl, way shorter than her friend, joined the conversation. "i saw her at that party, making out with a girl that.. didn't really look like you."

ellie seemed as surprised as you.

"i thought-" she started but her voice slowly drifted off. you knew what she meant - she thought her teammates made that up, so they could help her, their leader, get you. that's what you thought too.

you felt like you were back at the start of this whole mess, not knowing who or what to believe anymore.

ellie was shocked by this revelation, and her teammates' reactions. she seemed to be just as confused and conflicted as you were now.

"what are you two talking about?" you asked calmly, before turning to look at ellie. "you said you made up the whole fake cheating story. and now you're telling me that it was true?"

you hoped there was an explanation. you hoped that all the drama could end here, but your hopes were low at this point.

"so, you didn't make that up to help me?" ellie asked her teammates.

everyone was confused, making finding out what's the truth even harder.

"no, we really saw vi with another girl. and, well, they weren't just talking." one of them explained, probably as clearly as possible. she had no reason to lie, and the way she spoke made her look honest, so you started seriously considering believing it.

you were at a loss for words. everything you thought was true had slowly crumbled away. you didn't know who was telling the truth, and who was lying.

"so, it's true?" you stared at ellie, who was still trying to figure out the situation. her teammates didn't look like they were lying, but you didn't want to believe it either. "it's all true?" you repeated, but your voice was softer this time.

"all? i don't know." the first girl spoke up again. "but what i know, is that vi's a fucking cheater."

the disgust was obvious in faces and voices of both girls, making everything even more believable.

so breaking up with her months ago was a good decision, even though the last days made you doubt it? why was she so nice to you earlier today, then?

she wasn't. she wanted you to 'forgive' ellie, not because she was so sympathetic, but because there was nothing to forgive. ellie didn't lie, though even she thought so. plus, vi hoped you'll focus on your new girlfriend, and forget about the past. she hoped you won't find out the truth, especially not when she finally made you believe the true rumour was fake. you started to understand everything. vi was the villain the whole time. and the worst part is that you knew that, yet she still managed to change your mind and clear her name.

you catched ellie's gaze, making an eye contact with her. you could hear her mumbling her usual 'jesus''s. she really thought she's a liar for talking about vi cheating, and she was right the entire time.

or.. was she, really? what just happened?

you rubbed your eyes and pinched your skin, but nothing happened. this wasn't a dream.

i think this was actually a little obvious so probably no ones shocked;( but still !! should we just ignore it and live our life with ellie?? or should we get revenge?? im open to yalls ideas<3<3

TAGS: @wandasromanova @bellaramslover @aouiaa @glennns-blog @elliewilliamsfuckbuddy @iheartsadiesink @ximtiredx @coff1nn @jowdann @simpforellie @iveofficiallylostmymarbles @skylerwhitwyo @pinkigirl @islalips @ratdungeon @okayyesbutno @dinoastronaut @ucannotcompare @elyonz @lesbiantothemoonandback @lovejuliettq @param8re @r3wbeef more i cant tag for unknown reasons:(

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igotanidea · 9 months

Text

A men's talk : Jason Todd x reader

Christmas bingo day 24 : christmas market

A/N: I'm sorry for all the spellings that might be there! The preparations are crazy today and I;m in a hurry! Nonetheless enjoy the story and MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!

***

Y/N was a master planer.

Every year, before Christmas she has prepared a list of things to do and connected them to day on which should be done.

Any every year it worked perfectly, everything was ready right on time before anyone loosing their minds during preparations. Until now.

And before I tell you what exactly happened on that particular year, please bare in mind that her boyfriend Jason was way more spontaneous than her and making "to-do" list was definitely not his style.

Now, on that year - Y/N fell sick.

And while she was being busy choking on her lungs and sneezing her brains out Jason was left to follow the detailed instructions of what and when to do. How hard could it have been to just read with understading and fulfil the steps?

Well-

In Jason's head it was an aberration. She couldn't truly have expected him to do the shopping and clean the aparrment while she was fighting for her life right? It was his duty, as a good boyfriend, to put her well-being above christmas preparations. Therefore, instead of checking the boxes he spent his time by her bedside, holding her hand and stroking her head whenever his vigilante duties allowed him to. Y/N's perfectly prepared list long forgoten as he was holding her close and checking her temperature making sure she was ok.

"Did you buy the presents?" she asked softly a few days before the christmas eve, nuzzling into his arms, feeling safe and taken care of.

"Mhm. Yes, yes, absolutely." obviously he didn;t but there was still hell lot of time and Jason was busy with much more important things in the form of loving his girlfriend.

'What about the christmas tree?" she snuggled closer to him, enjoying the warmth and smoothness of his bare chest, cause even despite the fever she was freezing.

"Obviously baby." he kissed her forehead. In any other circumstances he would be worried about catching the cold from her, but apparently Lazarus Pit gave him some extra immunity and he was taking full advantage of it "don't worry about a thing, I got it all handled. Now rest princess, I'm here. Everything is fine." her hair was silky under his fingers, her body fitting his perfectly - he just couldn't leave the love of his life alone, could he?

The panic started on the day of the christmas eve when he figured that pretty much nothing was done in the apartment. A few emergency calls got him a quite decent christmas tree and some decorations alongside with the basic dishes.

But.

One thing he could not get - and which was an absolute must for Y/N was fish. This was the only dish she was dead set on having on the christmas table.

And it was a problem that forced Jason to leave her and rush to the miraculously-still-open christmas market in hope of acquiring something.

And if you ever watched any movie about the last-minute holiday preparations you probably know all the comedic gags and funny situations portayed there.

Haha... haha... hilarious.

When you see it on TV and not take part in the great fighting for fish with Jason Todd.

Poor guy.

He emerged from the shop with his hair slighly ruffled and his coat askew, pretty sure he lost a few buttons and at least a bif of dignity. But it was all for Y/N and the though made it teeny tiny bit easier to swallow the humiliation. nonetheless he was starting to understand the point of her list, not that he was going to admit it to her out loud.

Nonetheless, he was a champion and was already imagining his girlrfriend's sparkling eyes and happy smile after seving her the perfectly prepared and seasoned fish. Those thoughts consumed him to such extend he was barely paying attention to the surroudning and didn;t notice the unwanted someone following him all the way from the shop to the apartment.

Flexible and sly little fella sneaked behind him into the stairwell and went up the stairs completely unnoticed, hiding in the shadow. He also used the few spare seconds between opening and closing the door to the apartment to penetrate inside the warmth he has been deprived of for so long.

"Y/N! Baby I'm home!" Jason called from the hallway taking off his shoes and coat, completly unaware of the tail he brough home "I'm gonna start cooking now, I got your favourite dish and - fuck!"

"Meow!"

The unexpected visitor seemed to be outraged that his meal was interrupted. The fish was delicious, fresh and even if the cat had to tear off the foil in which it was wrapped, the claws and little sharp teeth was perfect for this task.

"you little -!" Jason hissed grabbing the cat from the floor by his back getting ready to kick him out the door.

"Meow!!" the poor animal cried out desperately over and over again risking dragging y/n out of bed, dragged by the noise.

"shut up!"

"Meow!"

"just shut the-" Jason stopped int he middle of the sentence for the first time truly looking at the being that invaded his space. He took in cat's emaciation - it was pretty much skin and bones. He noticed the dull, dirty fur and the sheer desperation and sadness in those little eyes that were focusing on Jason, showing a mix of readiness to be kicked out and silent begging to be kept even if just for a moment.

"Meow...." this time the sound coming from the tiny shaggy animal was far more pleading and humble. "meow...." the resignation reverberating from every tone broke Jason;s heart at the spot.

"shhh...." he loosened the grip on the cat and started caressing its fur. "shhh kitty. I won't hurt you. it's okay. You're safe here."

The cat acted caucious for a second. After all this man was shouting at him just a minute ago and now was rubbing its tiny body in all the right places and it was so nice and something the cat didn;t get to experience in a long long time while living on the streets and -

That Jason guy couldn't really be this bad, the cat finally decided allowing himself to enjoy the little bit of caressing and purring softly.

The truth was that this unexpected guest reminded Jason of his own time as a shabby kid forced to fend for himself on the street and searching for scraps of food in the dumpsters and other places. Those memories in comparision of what he had now almost made him tear up and holding the cat was the only way to keep his cool. At this point he was sure he'll keep that fella.

There was just one problem -

"Now kitty I wonder how Y/N will react seeing what yo did with her favourite fish...."

"What is going on here? What's all that noice?" the girl finally showed in the corridor and her eyes grew wide at the scene.

***

Jason was torn between fury at the fact that she had willingly given up the fish he had fought so hard for her, and happiness because he had never seen Y/N smiling wider then when she put the cat on her lap and was running fingers through its fur.

And then it hit him.

She was smiling at the cat.

She was rubbing and caressing the cat.

How does that song go?

Jealousy, Jealousy?

A men's talk was going to take place in this household. Soon.

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x you #jason todd x y/n #red hood x y/n #jason todd fluff #red hood fluff #christmas bingo

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tofics · 4 months

Text

Broken - Chapter 3

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!Reader

Summary: A year has passed since Joel and Ellie have returned to Jackson when he finds you on patrol, half frozen and half burning up. Jackson takes you in and nurses you back to health, welcoming you as the newest member of their community. The more time passes, Joel realizes that you and him have more in common than he likes... Until one day, everything changes and you get a gift that he'll never get.

Word Count: 5912 words

This chapter is very dark. Reader discretion is advised.

Warnings: Implications of SA, mention of cannibalism, panic attacks, implications of self-harm, cursing, implications of murder, blood.

Chapter 3 - Worse Than A Monster

As time passes, winter slowly makes way for spring in Jackson. The snow begins to melt and turns everything into a muddy landscape, brown and grey replacing the white canvas as more and more of the land begins to thaw. Those weeks are the worst to be outside. Where it previously snowed it now comes down in rain, heavy and relentless and adding to the already soggy ground. Your horses' hoofs often sink a few inches into the mud and you come back drenched and soiled from your patrols.

One morning, the rain is coming down so heavy that you can barely see outside of your bedroom window. Unsure whether it's safe to take the horses out in this weather, you decide to swing by Joel's first and see if you can catch him before he leaves for the stables.

It takes you longer than usual to get to his house. You keep slipping in the mud and the rain is making it hard to see where you're going. When you finally make it to his backdoor, there's two big splotches of mud on your knees from where you slipped and fell on your way over. You shed your rainboots and raincoat by the door, not wanting to drag that mess with you into the house and then step into the kitchen. Even though it's empty, it's warm and cozy and smells like Joel and Ellie. You've come to love this room, having spent so much evenings here over the past two months.

"Joel?" You call out, but there's no response. You call out again, but get the same result. The rain is drumming against the windows of the house and you figure Joel might've not heard you, so you decide to head upstairs.

His bedroom door is ajar, his bed unmade, but Joel isn't anywhere to be found. Shit, probably missed him. You turn back with a sigh, not too happy with the idea of having to return to the rain as you pass by Ellie's door. To your surprise, you hear her mumbled voice from behind the door, despite the early morning hour. You raise your hand to knock when you hear another voice mixing with Ellie's giggle. She's got someone over. You realize it's another girl and you can't help but smile, happy that Ellie has found some friends in this community. Even though you know you shouldn't, you lean your ear against the doorframe to listen.

"Have you ever seen a penis before?" You hear the other girl asks and you feel color raising to your cheeks. This is definitely not a conversation you should be listening to.

"Ew!" Ellie's voice reverberates through the door and the two girls break out into giggles again. "Gross! No!"

The other girl laughs. "Okay, okay! I just thought, you know, because you live with Joel..."

"Ewwwwwww," Ellie howls and you grin. Nothing quite like a teenager's embarrassment over genitalia. "Why would you even say that! Yuck!" You hear the thump of a pillow and more giggles. "That's like me asking if you've seen your dad's penis!"

You smile to yourself and tip-toe over to the staircase, not wanting to raise attention to yourself. Let the teenagers be teenagers, you think, but then freeze when you hear Ellie's tone as she speaks again.

"I almost did, though. I mean not Joel's, no, gross. But..." There's a pause. You don't know why, but before you realize it, your feet have carried you back to Ellie's door. Something about the way she said it has pricked something in your gut.

"But what?"

You hear the muffled sounds of shifting blankets. When Ellie speaks again, her voice is so low that you're straining to hear her words.

"Uhh... when Joel and I were still traveling around, we came across some people." She pauses again and you feel your pulse picking up. Something tells you that whatever she's about to say, it won't be good.

"They were running low on food, I guess, so they'd started eating their own people."

Your stomach turns and you hear the other girl gasp. "Did they eat their penises too?"

"No! I don't know. Maybe. That's not the point." You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to regulate your breathing. The fact that Ellie ever came across such monsters... You can feel your morning coffee threatening to come back up and press a hand to your mouth.

"They followed this one guy who was a preacher or something. I don't know. One of their people had hurt Joel and I was trading them for medicine with a deer I'd shot, but things went wrong when they found out that it was Joel who the medicine was for, because he'd killed the guy who'd stabbed him. I mean, it was self-defense, but obviously they didn't care very much about that.

Anyway, my trade goes to shit and they take me into their little jail or whatever, and when I refuse to trust them and join their little hunger club, this preacher guy starts threatening me about how I'll be their lunch next."

There's dead silence behind Ellie's door. You keep your hand pressed to your mouth, afraid that if you take it down, a sound or bile will come out; maybe both.

"I managed to fight them, but that son of a bitch of a preacher just wouldn't let go. Next thing I know, the entire place is on fire, and even though there were flames, like, right next to us, that fucker climbed on top of me, and he..."

Your legs carry you down the stairs and out through the backdoor in a blitz before you can catch the end of the sentence. You throw yourself over the railing of the back porch and spew out this morning's coffee and whatever little remains were still in your stomach from last night's dinner. The rain is still coming down heavy and think, washing away the remnants of your stomach as quickly as they came out and soaking your head and sweatshirt, but you don't care. You don't even really notice.

There's the sound of white noise in your ears, paired with a high pitched ringing. You cling to the railing as your heart runs in your chest. Flashes of images you've tried to bury in the back of your head dance in front of you. You can still see them when you squeeze your eyes shut, a playback from hell that you seem unable to stop.

You stumble as you scramble for your rainboots and coat. Your fingers refuse to work, fiddling with the zipper of your raincoat before giving up. Whether it's rain or tears running down your cheeks, you don't know. More than once, you stumble on the slick roads and fall to the ground. There's a sharp pain in the palm of your hand the first time you fall down, then in your knee when you slip for the second time. None of it matters. The pain barely registers with your brain as you tumble back to your house, the high pitched ringing and white noise still blocking out your ears. Somewhere between Joel's house and yours, your hood slips down and your hair is drenched within seconds, but you make no attempt to pull the hood back over your head. You just have to get home. Get away.

Joel finds you in your bedroom. He halts in the doorframe when he sees that you're not fully dressed. For the briefest of seconds, his eyes flit across your bum, partially covered by the panties you're wearing. Then you're already turned around, scurrying from the closet back to the open bag on your bed and he sees the wound on your knee, muddy and leaking blood down your leg in a single, long stripe.

He quickly takes in the rest of the scene in front of him. There's a pile of wet and muddy jeans by the bed, next to a drenched hoodie. Clothes and various objects are strewn across the room, as if having been picked up and then quickly disregarded again. You're in the midst of the chaos, running back and forth between the piles on the ground, your drawer and your closet, gathering things and then tossing them again.

He clears his throat to alert you of his presence, but you don't stop, don't even glance his way. Instead, you grab a pair of jeans from the top of your closet and shove them into your bag. Joel says your name then, but you just dash over to your dresser. To Joel's alarm, you hurry back to the bed with a couple of cases of ammo.

With two quick strides, he crosses through the room and takes you by the arms before saying your name again. Finally, you show a sign of recognition at the mention of your name. "Oh, hey Joel," you mumble and shimmy out of his grip to return to your closet.

"What's going on?" He tries to keep his voice steady, but what he's seeing has him worried. In the few months that he's known you, he's never seen you like this. You have your moments where you draw back into yourself, but this? This borders on mental breakdown, if it hasn't already crossed the line.

You rush back to the bed and fish out a pair of boots from underneath it. "Just packing some things," you say as you walk into the en-suite. You return with a toothbrush and toothpaste in hand which you promptly stuff into the slowly filling bag on the bed.

"I can see that," Joel replies warily. Adding to his confusion, you give him a quick smile as you shimmy past him to retrieve a jacket that's dangling from the curtain rod.

"Where're you goin'?"

"Just got some business I gotta take care of," comes your answer from the room next door. Then you scurry back into the room and drop two rolls of toilet paper into your bag before Joel catches your wrist, stopping you before you can flit off again.

"Hey," he says and his tone is warm, his eyes kind and full of concern. "What happened? What's going on?"

You push his hand off your wrist and turn away from him. The look in his eyes is threatening to get through to you, and you can't have that. You need to concentrate on the task at hand, and he's distracting you.

"You can go, Joel," you dismiss him, but he doesn't budge.

"I ain't goin' nowhere until you tell me what's goin' on."

It's the annoyance over his refusal to leave that pulls you out of your state a little. You turn back to him with an angry look on your face. "I told you. I have some business I have to take care of." You return your attention to the bottom drawer in front of you. Socks, socks, you think. How many socks will I need? You decide that there's no such thing as too many socks and swiftly take the entire drawer out to dump all of its contents into your bag on the bed.

"Alright, enough." Joel puts his arms around the drawer you're holding in an attempt to take it out of your hands, but you refuse. A short war of tug-and-pull promptly ensues. "Let - go!" you press out between clenched teeth. Joel doesn't reply and instead manages to wrestle the large wooden compartment out of your hands. He quickly discards it on the bed before he grabs both your wrists again and pulls you closer to him.

"Do you know what you look like right now?" His voice is hushed and coated with anger. You couldn't care less as you tug on your arms, struggling to get free. "You're running around like a goddamn maniac. You're bleeding, for god's sake!" Joel shakes the wrist of your left arm, forcing your palm to turn upwards so you can see the cut at the bottom of it.

"I slipped," you mumble as you stare at the laceration. Your brows furrow as if you're only now realizing that you're wounded. "I slipped in the rain." The longer you stare at your wound, the more present it becomes. A sharp sting crawls up your left arm and you flinch back at the sensation. Through the noise in your ears, you hear Joel saying your name again. You blink up at him and are met with a stare of concern and anger. You recoil at the sight of it. Why does he care?

He scoffs as you relay the question to him. "How could I not? You don't show up for your shift and then I find you like this!" He lets go of your wrists then to widen his arms, gesturing around the room. You look around briefly, registering the chaos and piles of stuff everywhere for the first time. Did I do that?, you wonder, but quickly shrug it off. Doesn't matter. I gotta go.

You turn back towards your en-suite, but before you can take so much as two steps, your feet suddenly lift from the ground. You screech in surprise and then begin to flail around when you realize that Joel has picked you up and is carrying you out of your room.

Despite your heavy protest and flailing limbs, Joel carries you down to your living room where he unceremoniously drops you on your couch. Once you touch down, you immediately scramble to get back up, but Joel is quicker than you and pushes you down into the cushions by your shoulders. "Let - me - go!" you strain, but he doesn't let up.

Instead, he kneels so you're eye-to-eye with him. "Look at me. Look at me!" he commands, and you unwillingly obey. You stare into his eyes, yours full of fury and hatred for the man who is keeping you from what you need to do.

"What!" It comes out as a snarl, your tone matching the anger in your eyes.

"If you have somewhere to go, that's fine, but I'm not letting you up from this couch until you tell me where you need to go and why."

His face shows an unbreaking determination that just adds to your fury. You glare at him as the silence stretches on between you, unwilling to explain yourself to him. You wiggle a few times to get his arms off your shoulders, but he doesn't budge one bit, just keeps his eyes on yours.

The longer he holds you down, the more your anger slowly dissipates. Your eyes begin to glisten and he feels a hint of pain in his chest. What the hell happened to you?, he wonders and is afraid to learn the answer. When he saw you at dinner yesterday evening, you seemed fine, your usual, nothing out of place. What happened in those few hours between dinner and now?

Your head slumps down as the first sob escapes you, quickly followed by more. Tears drip down onto your bare legs and you begin to shiver as the adrenaline leaves your body; the aftermath a mess of cold, shaking limbs. Joel reaches for a nearby blanket and drapes it around you, trying to cover as much of your shaking body as the blanket will allow. He tries tugging it over your thighs when he sees the faint white lines running horizontally across your skin. There's so many of them.

When he realizes he's staring, he quickly tugs on the fabric again until your thighs are covered too. You don't seem to have noticed or care; sobs still breaking out of you like before. He rubs your back gently over the scratchy material of the blanket, a soothing gesture for the lack of soothing words he can't find.

Eventually, your tears let up a little. You pull your legs close to your chest, tugging your feet under the blanket and run an arm over your nose. It comes away full of snot, which you rub off against the blanket.

"You wanna tell me now what's going on?"

You don't meet his eyes. Shame is pooling in your stomach, hot and full of bile at the state he's seen you in. It takes you a moment to find your voice.

"There's... something I gotta go take care of." Your voice is barely more than a whisper, croaky and thick from the snot that's running down the back of your throat.

"People," you add and briefly meet his gaze, your eyes adding the meaning that your words left out.

Joel thinks about the lines on your thighs and digests your words. "These people. They hurt you?"

You huff at his question and another round of tears springs from your eyes. A single nod confirms his question.

Joel grunts. "They hurt someone you love?"

You feel the taste of bile in the back of your throat at his words. A shudder runs through your spine and you pull the blanket closer around you in search of comfort. Suddenly, you wish you were still in your frenzy, full of adrenaline and empty of all these feelings that are churning you up and spitting you out.

It takes a while before you can speak again without worrying that you might throw up. "Umh. I'll talk to Tommy, see if he can find a replacement for me for morning patrol."

There's a sigh from Joel. He's shaking his head when you look at him. "You don't gotta worry about that. I'll talk to him. He'll find someone to cover for both of us."

"Both of us?!" You look at him in bewilderment.

"You think I'm letting you out there on your own?"

Not what he should have said. Whatever bit of vulnerability you allowed him to see just a moment ago quickly gets shoved away behind a curtain of white-hot anger. "Oh, yeah? Because I can't handle myself?" You throw the blanket off your shoulders and stalk over to the kitchen. "I've lived 37 years without you, Joel, I think I'll do just fine!"

Joel rubs his face and groans as you march off. The fuck did I go wrong this morning?, he thinks but then gets up to follow you. His own words had surprised him a little, no doubt. You had a point, you'd barely known each other for more than three months, and here he was, offering himself up for whatever revenge-mission you had suddenly decided to go on. What about Ellie?, a voice asks in his head, and he immediately feels a twinge of guilt.

He finds you in your bathroom, patching up your wounds, or at least trying to. You've already tended to the cut on your knee and are now trying to wrap a bandage around the palm of your hand, but your free hand is shaking too much. Joel takes the bandage from you and carefully wraps it around the cut and wrist. Once you're all bandaged up, you shove past him into your bedroom and quickly pull on fresh clothes, acutely aware of the fact that you're running around in underwear and a t-shirt.

"I didn't mean that you couldn't handle yourself. It's just safer not to go alone."

He watches you as you don't reply and just stuff things into your bag.

"I know we don't get a lot of raiders or infected around here, but they're out there. I know you know that, you're not stupid." This earns him a glare, but you continue packing wordlessly.

"You don't have to take me. Hell, I probably shouldn't even go. I'm old and rusty, and I got Ellie to look after."

You look at the contents of your bag, then flip it upside down, shaking all of it out onto the bed. Joel thinks he's won for a second, but then you start re-packing everything, just with more precision.

"Just take someone with you, okay? 'M sure someone will come with you. I know some of the youngsters are itchin' to get out there."

You huff in frustration. "I can't just taking anyone with me, much less some young idiot who's never had to look after his own butt and doesn't know how to shoot a damn gun. And what makes you think that someone will just want to come with?! I'm not going on a supply run, Joel, I'm going to end what I should have ended years ago. Some-one, if you haven't caught on by now."

"Yeah no, I got that. Just think it's a dumb idea to go at it alone." He's standing in your doorframe, arms crossed, blocking your exit.

"Please." You roll your eyes as you push your socks into a separate, smaller bag. "I'll be fine. Let it go, Joel."

"'Kay, what if you come across a bunch of infected?"

"Then I'll deal with them." You stuff the smaller bag in between a pair of shoes and two rolls of toilet paper. "Besides, there's worse than infected out there," you mumble under your breath, but Joel hears you clear as day.

"'N what's that?"

Oh, for fuck's sake. When will he let this go!

"People!", you exclaim as you turn to face him. "People, Joel, people!"

"My point exactly!" He throws his hands up in exasperation, but you're quick to interrupt him.

"No, Joel, not fuckin' raiders! I'm talking about FEDRA, you fuckin' idiot!" Your voice has risen to a shout. "You know what's worse than a frickin' raider? Someone with power. Someone who will abuse their power in any way they can. You know what that does to people? You know what they think they can take when they're in charge? Everything, Joel. Everything."

You throw the last few things into the bag and then zip it shut. When you try to shove past Joel in the doorframe, he snags it off your shoulder and takes you by the arm.

"Come with me." It's as much an order as it is a request. Even so, the hold on your arm is strong as he drags you down the stairs and outside into the rain.

The downpour has barely let up since you first stepped a foot outside this morning and it's coming down in buckets. Within a matter of seconds, your second outfit of the day is drenched.

"Where the fuck are we going," you yell over the rain, but Joel doesn't respond, just continues dragging you through the streets until you arrive in his backyard. You're shivering, cold from the wet and the wind, as he points to a pile of wood nearby. You squint at him through the rain, confused.

"Take it out on that," he calls out as he hands you an axe, then places a piece of wood on the chopping block. You just blink at him. Has he lost his mind?

"You need me to chop your firewood?" You wipe an arm across your face, but raindrops quickly gather on your eyelashes again.

"Whatever you're feeling right now, take it out on that, then we can talk again." The rain is running into his eyes and into the back of his neck, but he doesn't waiver, just motions for the piece of wood on the block again.

Fuck it, you think and take your first swing. You split the piece of wood neatly in half. Joel wipes the chunks off of the block and puts a fresh piece on it, then motions for you to go again.

You repeat this process a few times until your chopping becomes faster and faster. You hear Ellie's words from this morning ringing in your head, over and over. "That fucker climbed on top of me, and he..." It plays on a constant loop, accompanied by flashes of pictures of someone that isn't Ellie, trapped under a man's body as she screams and cries for help-

It takes a while to realize that you're screaming yourself. Snot and tears fly from your face as you blindy hack away at the wooden block in front of you, little pieces of wood shooting into the air.

Joel watches from a safe distance as you take your feelings out on the firewood. When you start to scream, Ellie's window on the first floor flies open and two worried faces appear in the frame. "Fuck," Joel mutters under his breath and motions for the two girls to move back and close the window again. "It's okay," he calls out over your distressed wails and the rain. "Ellie, it's okay," he repeats when she doesn't retreat at first. He sees how her eyes wander back and forth between you and him, a mixture of concern and fear on her face. He nods at her once more and finally, she leans back inside and closes the window. Gonna have to deal with that later, he thinks but just then, Tommy comes jogging around the corner of the house, rifle raised.

"Whoa, whoa, Tommy, 's okay, we're good here!" Even though one should never run into the line of a gun, Joel quickly jogs over to Tommy, shielding you with his body in the process. His younger brother squints around him at you, chopping away on the block furiously while you still shout out strangled sounds of pain.

"The fuck's goin' on, Joel?" Tommy's panting and his eyes are wide and alert. "'Dunno quite yet, she's goin' through somethin'," Joel replies quietly so you won't hear. His brother's eyes dart back over to you through the rain. "Uh-huh?"

"Tommy." Joel puts a hand on the barrel and gently pushes it downwards. "She ain't bit. She's just..." He sighs and runs a hand over his face. "'Dunno, man, somethin' set her off and triggered her."

Slowly, Tommy lets his rifle sink down. The two men watch you go at it for a moment. "You sure she ain't bit?" His brothers eyes wander over their surroundings and Joel knows he's looking for infected. "I'm tellin' 'ya, somethin' set her off, jus' don't know what yet. Wouldn't she be tryin' to eat our faces instead of playin' Jack Torrance over there?"

Finally, Tommy swings his rifle back over his shoulder. "Alright," he says in a tone that tells Joel it's anything but alright, and he can't blame his brother. "I got it under control," he assures Tommy. He receives a pat on the back in return and with one last look at you, Tommy jogs back around the house, presumably to tell Maria that no, they're not being overrun with infected.

After a little while, your screaming subsides. Soon after, your motions become slower and slower until you eventually drop the axe to the ground. It lands in a puddle with a thud and a little splash. Realizing that all the fight has gone out of you, Joel makes his way over to you. He reaches you just in time as your knees give out.

"Alright," he grunts as he catches you. He chucks the axe over to a protected dry spot and then swoops you up into his arms.

Ellie opens the backdoor for him and quickly throws a blanket over the couch where Joel sets you down. There's a glazed look in your eyes, like you're far away. Ellie's face is one of pure worry and it tugs at Joel's heart, the way her little heart can feel so deeply for others.

"What happened," Ellie whispers as she studies your face with big eyes. Then she notices the bandage on your palm. "Is she...?", she gasps, but Joel just flicks his tongue. "You think I'd bring her into our house if she was?"

Ellie helps him undress you. The wet clothes stick to your skin like glue, your jeans in particular. You let the two move you around whichever way they turn you, but you make no move to help. It's hard to tell whether you're registering anything that's going on.

Joel sends Ellie up to his room to fetch a pair of his sweatpants and one of his sweaters. When she comes back, she also has a pair of fuzzy socks with her that come out of her own collection. He raises an eyebrow when she hands them to him, but she just shrugs. "Thought they might help."

They speak in hushed whispers as they work around you, replacing your bandages as they go. Once you're dressed in dry clothes, Ellie gets her brush and sits on the backrest of the couch. She slowly untangles your hair and gently brushes through the strands. Joel goes to change out of his own drenched set and heads to the dining hall afterwards. When he comes back, he's loaded with food.

Ellie has finished with your hair and is sitting next to you on the sofa, reading a book. Her eyes light up at the sight of the bag that Joel's carrying. "Whoaaa," she breathes out and wanders over to inspect his loot. "They let you take all this?"

Joel shrugs. "More or less. Told Andrea we can't make it to the dining hall today." He glances over at you, but you're still staring off into the distance. "She say anything at all since I left?" Ellie shakes her head. "No, but I think she liked it when I sat next to her. She sighed once," she replies in an equally hushed voice. Together, they unpack lunch and dinner.

You poke around the plate of food that Joel set down in front of you. Hours have passed since you slowly came to on their couch. There's a numbness inside of you that fills you from head to toe, overshadowing every other sensation. You're not hungry, you're not thirsty, you're not happy or sad. If anything, you're exhausted. Every single muscle in your body aches like you just finished a whole body workout.

While you shift the food around on your plate, Joel and Ellie blabber on in the background. It's the most you've ever heard him talk; even during your game nights he doesn't talk this much. You briefly wonder if this is what their every-day-interactions are like before you push the thought away. Ellie laughs and Joel joins in. Hers is high and giggly and his is deep and warm and throaty. It's a nice sound.

You're grateful that they don't try to include you in the conversation. You just sit and listen as Ellie talks about the gossip her friend Jessica told her last night during their sleepover. Apparently, her brother tried to steal one of the rare chocolate bars from the community kitchen and now has to work in plumbing as punishment. Joel, in return, tells a story about how back in the day, a plumber messed up at one of his construction sites and they had a sewage pipe blow up in the middle of the day. "Poop rained down everywhere. It was an ugly sight, I'm tellin' 'ya. Tommy got the worst of it."

Ellie laughs so hard, she almost slides off her chair, and even Joel's chair is shaking from his laughter. You briefly look up and find that Joel is looking at you, the skin around his eyes all crinkly from the smile on his face. You quickly avert your eyes but can't stop the tiny smile that wanders over your lips.

"C'mon, I'll walk you home." Joel's hand is on your shoulder. The dishes are done and the sun has set. Ellie has already gone to bed, or has at least retreated to her room.

You feel a soft nudge on your shoulder and start to move.

The idea of going back to your house, alone, haunts you. Where a packed bag is waiting and the evidence of your outburst is strewn across the floor of your entire bedroom.

Your legs stop under you and Joel almost bumps into you on the way to the door. "I can't," you whisper and you feel the familiar wave of shame roar in your stomach. You feel Joel's hand on your back and feel frozen in your spot. "I-," you start again but your voice betrays you. There's a prickling sensation behind your eyes and you know that the tears are just around the corner. You sigh and it sounds like dry laugh. "I, umh."

Joel doesn't say anything, he just waits for you to say what you have to say. You take a big breath and then say the words quickly before you lose the momentum. "I'm afraid I'll do something, if I'm alone." Your whisper is so quiet, so small, as if your voice wants to hide itself away. "To myself."

There's a moment of silence where you feel like your skin is on fire. Every single hair on your body stands up as you wait for Joel to respond. The wave of shame sloshes around in your stomach and sends hot shivers through your body. You feel betrayed by yourself, by your mind, your strength, both cowering at the sight of your pain, unable to tame it. You feel humiliated by yourself, your inability to deal with your demons and how scared you are of them. You've fought so many monsters, infected by cordyceps or power, but the one opponent that you never seem to beat is yourself.

Finally, you feel his hand glide off your back and it feels like a kick in the stomach, but then his hand gently wraps around your unbandaged hand. There's a soft tug, and then he's guiding you through the kitchen, up the stairs and into his bedroom.

A cascade of emotions washes over you: relief, shame, gratitude, humiliation, guilt. There is relief that you don't have to go home and face your demons in the dark all by yourself, gratitude that Joel's taking you in and taking on the burden of making sure you're safe when you can't do it yourself, but it's all laced with shame, bitter and slimy and hard to swallow because you should be able to do this yourself.

You don't know how to feel as he gestures for you to sit on the bed, then takes off his watch and places it on one of the nightstands. He pulls off the jacket he's wearing, then slips out of his t-shirt. You avert your eyes when his torso is bare, even if not for long. He slips on another t-shirt, then kicks off his pants.

You're still sitting on the edge of his bed as he slides under the blanket behind you. "C'mon," you hear him mumble and he tugs the blanket out from under you. To your surprise, your body moves on its own accord. Your legs slide under the blanket he's holding up, then he's pulling the covers up so they reach up to your chin. You feel him shift behind you and then there's his body leaning against yours, your back pressed against his tummy. An arm moves around your waist and pulls you even closer, until you're fitted against each other tightly.

You're in Joel Miller's bed, but there's nothing sexual about it. Joel holds your shaking body against his and lets the warmth of his own body erase your cold. He holds you, even when tears of shame and sadness roll down your cheeks and into his pillows. He holds you until you fall asleep, and even then, he doesn't let go.

Series Masterlist - Mobile Masterlist

A/N: I want to make it clear that asking for help is never wrong, nor anything to be ashamed of or to be humiliated by. As a person with chronic depression who struggled to deal with it on her own for years, I want you to know that you deserve all the help, even if your brain is telling you something different. No matter what you're struggling with, you are worthy of help and love, always. 🤍

Feedback is always appreciated! If you have any requests, feel free to send them my way. I'm always happy to practice my writing! :)

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters!

Tag list: @eternallyvenus @frogsdeservelovetoo @akisfoxdevil @southernbe @nutterbitter @sunandmuun @noisynightmarepoetry @puduvallee @picketniffler @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @orcasoul @foomoosworld @aryaharmon @lilmizmoz @ashleyfilm

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