#i will read & flail all year round!
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
day thirty-one • @gallavichthings kinktober 2024
↳ 31 days of kinks & cards in 3 sentences
WAX PLAY x THREE OF WANDS
By the end of the night, you’re dripping with come and covered in the tri-colored candle Ian insisted on buying at the new sex shop down the block. You’ve survived hours of sensory overload like you’ve never before experienced: the hot sting of the wax, the cool caress of breath blowing it dry, the ache in your balls, the pulse of your prostate, the fullness of Ian’s cock buried so deep your belly bulges, the warm splatter of spunk—yours, a relief, a reward; his, a benefit, a brand. Later, you’ll breathe and bathe, cleaning yourself of all but your filthy memories, but now, you blink and beam, soaking up what you can of Ian’s attention, his praise, and his unconditional, unrelenting love.
#HAPPY KINKTOBER YA FILTHY ANIMALS 👻🖤#that's a fucking wrap#i really wanted to participate & i wanted to finish (😉) & i'm so proud of all of my dirty lil babies#thank you to everyone who reblogged my work this month & screamed in the tags - you made every day so fun!#master list coming atcha later today so you can catch up as needed or revisit your faves!#also Also ALSO - the spirit of kinktober doesn't end when october does!#if you have ideas that you want to see *come* to fruition PLEASE FOLLOW THOSE THREADS & MAKE NASTY ART#i will read & flail all year round!#alright now for a cold fucking shower hehehe#shameless#shameless fanfiction#gallavich#kinktober 2024#ian x mickey#bee writes 🐝 ✍🏼
27 notes
·
View notes
Text
die with a smile - kim mingyu
member | husband!mingyu x reader
genre | dystopian!au, apocalypse!au, angst, fluff
word count | 1.7k
synopsis | if the world was ending, mingyu would want to be next to you
warnings | mentions of death, blood, doom’s day?, reader has a smaller build than mingyu, you can guess the ending..
notes | yes, this was based off the legendary collab between lady gaga and bruno mars’ and the song ‘die with a smile’ pls check it out if you haven't this is literally one of the best songs ive ever listened to in the year of our lord 2024
can be read as a stand-alone or as a prequel to this mingyu fic!
‘Come on, slowpoke! Catch up!’
You were running in a green meadow and the tall, swaying grass that reached right below Mingyu’s hip tickled his knees with every step he took in your direction. The view in front of him was the definition of a living dream. The meadow went past the horizon for as long as the eye could see and the bright blue sky seemed large and vast as it loomed over him. The big, round clouds seemed to sway with the wind that blew gently past him, scattering his bangs that were swept across his forehead. Up ahead, you continued to run and skip through the boundless field, a bright giggle leaving your lips as you continued to taunt Mingyu.
‘Last one is the rotten egg!’
A part of Mingyu thought that he would be okay with dying like this.
‘Wait up!’ He picked up his pace and jogged towards you. ‘Baby-'
A loud rumble interrupted his next words as the bright and clear sky turned dark and murky. It was a gradual change, like storm clouds rolling on a sunny day. The rich, healthy grass under his feet began to shrivel up and dry as the dirt ground began to crack and shake.
‘Babe? Mingyu-!’ And right in front of him, the ground gave away and swallowed up the love of his life whole.
‘NO! [NAME] NO-‘ Mingyu reached for you, his outstretched hand too far away to grab your flailing limbs. ‘[NAME]! NO!’
“NO!” Mingyu jackknifed awake, his hair sticking to his sweaty forehead and with a hand still outstretched for someone who could never be saved.
“Another nightmare?” Your voice seemed to snap Mingyu back in reality. He cleared his throat and climbed out of his tattered sleeping bag to sit by you at the entrance of the cave. The sky was similar to his dreams; dark and murky but now, there was also red. Everywhere. Mingyu gave up trying to differentiate what the different reds were: blood, lava, fire. It didn’t matter. All of it was going to kill him in some way or another.
He settled down next to you and rested his head on your shoulder. “It was the meadow one again.” Mingyu mumbled quietly. Although the sky was permanently the same kind of color all hours of the day, you and your husband tried your best to stick to some kind of circadian rhythm to try and keep yourselves alive for as long as possible. Right now, according to our bodies, it was the middle of the night and you were on guard duty.
“What do you think it means?” You asked quietly as you reached up to run your fingers through Mingyu’s matted hair. Neither of you bothered to care about the blood on your fingers or the grime in his hair. You were far too deep into this to care about hygiene anymore.
“We’re all going to die,” Mingyu mumbled. “But I refuse to watch you die in front of me like that dream. I want to be next to you until our very last moment.”
You pressed your nose into your husband’s temple and breathed in a deep breath. It was random love confessions like these that reminded you of how much you loved Mingyu’s spontaneity before The Incident happened.
Before the first asteroid hit, you and Mingyu were a normal couple. You each had your respective jobs; Mingyu as the head of his own architecture firm and you as a research analyst at a biomedical tech company, and both jobs was more than enough to financially support your little party of two. The two of you spent your days together exploring the city and traveling the world together. On random Friday evenings, he would show up to your office 20 minutes before you got off with a bouquet of flowers and sheepish smile. Although he understood nothing about your work, he would ask questions and listen to your responses with a loving look in his eyes. He would hold your hand in the hallways, your matching rings glinting under the fluorescent lights as you clocked out.
That childhood, innocent side of Mingyu disappeared after the world turned upside down. He became more dark and serious, almost never cracking jokes and fixated on keeping both of you alive. He also had a rotation of nightmares that visited him every night. They were different variations of the same vision; losing you first as the world ended.
“Guess what,” You whispered. “I got us some food. Real food.”
Mingyu’s ears perked up at that. “Food?”
The past 48 hours were full of rationing Haribo gummies, water, and granola bars. Although it was a difficult switch for you to get accustomed to, it was even harder for your husband, who was much bigger and needed more nutrients than the ones he received from gummies, water, and granola bars. It pained you to see the man you loved constantly struggle with hunger but didn’t even let out a single peep of complaint to you.
“They were really desperate for first aid so I did an emergency medical procedure in exchange for some instant camping food.” So that explained the new blood stains on your fingers. Mingyu kept his eyes trained on your trembling, bloody hands as you tried to open a package of camping food. The label read ‘Instant Lasagna. 2 Servings’.
Mingyu could already feel his mouth watering at the thought of real food. And lasagna? That was a total luxury that almost nobody could afford right now.
“Baby, can you start up a fire and boil some water? We need hot water for this.”
Fifteen minutes later, and the food was ready. Your eyes glistened with a newfound joy as you opened the seal and held out the first spoonful of lasagna towards Mingyu. “Take a bite and let me know how it tastes.”
He shook his head. “No, you first.”
“Mingyu, I know how much you’ve been struggling because of our rations. If you don’t eat first, I’m going to get mad.”
And he definitely didn’t want that. He took the first bite.
“Oh god, that’s heavenly.” Mingyu’s eyes almost rolled to the back of his head as he groaned. As a head of a thriving architecture firm, Mingyu’s had his fair share of luxury dinners and fine dining in his 13 years of working, but this single spoon of instant lasagna cooked in a dark cave while the world was reaching its expiration date was better than anything he had ever tasted in his entire life.
You beamed. “Really? That’s great. Have another bite-“
Mingyu held up his hand to stop you. “Your turn. I refuse to take another bite until you do.”
“Touche.”
This was your favorite position. Your back pressed against the front of Mingyu’s chest with his strong arms wrapped around you. It had always been your ultimate favorite way to cuddle, especially because Mingyu liked to nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck at random intervals and deep in a deep breath that tickled the hairs on the back of your neck. The current temperature (read: fire, lava, the basically non-existent ozone) would usually have you push Mingyu and complain that it was too hot, but now, every second counted.
Another asteroid shower had started not too long ago. Usually, this meant packing up everything and moving further east, but both you and Mingyu came to a silent mutual agreement that you were too tired to continue. The two of you were beginning to come to terms with the fact that the world was ending and your time together was also coming to a close.
With every distant thud you heard in the distance, you felt Mingyu take in a shaky breath and nuzzle his face further into your neck. “Gyu…”
“Shhh… I just wanna hold you right now.”
“Gyu, it’s getting closer,” You felt his arms tighten around you. He also knew what that meant. “Lie down with me.”
Mingyu spread his sleeping bag across the stone floor of the cave and gently lowered your head onto the floor, treating you so gently, like you were a piece of glass bound to shatter at any moment. He made himself comfortable next to you, letting you use his arm as a pillow as you buried your face into his chest. “Can you hold me like this?”
“Of course. Today, tomorrow, and every other day you ask me to.” Mingyu kissed the top of your head and sighed.
The two of you remained in silence like that for a while, your sweaty skins slick against each other from the heat, but you didn’t care. You were being held by the man you loved the most. The resounding thuds of the falling asteroids served as a constant reminder for the impending doom waiting for the two of you at the end of this as it drew closer and closer to the cave you were in.
“Look at me, my love,” Mingyu’s voice was ever so gentle and loving. He gently tipped your chin upwards to face him and his eyes roamed your face, as if he was committing every bit of it to memory. “You were the best thing that ever happened to me. Thank you for allowing me to love you and be loved back.”
You smiled. “I’m going to find you in my next life. I promise.”
“That, I won’t doubt for a single moment, my love.” Mingyu dipped his neck lower to capture your lips with his. Soft and gentle. Like Mingyu. A kiss that represented every kiss the two of you ever shared and the ones you will never be able to have anymore. “I love you so much.”
Through your bleary eyes, you tried to commit every part of Mingyu to memory. Under all the grime, sweat, and blood, was the Mingyu you first fell in love with during your freshman year of college. The boy who sheepishly asked for your number after the lecture only to lose to you horribly on your first date at your campus’ bowling alley.
“I love you too.” You whispered.
Mingyu smiled. “Good night, [Name]. Thank you for being mine.”
“Good night, Mingyu. I love you.” Your lips tugged up into a bright smile.
“I’ll love you in every universe. Wherever you go, that’s where I’ll follow.”
reblogs and feedback are always appreciated ^-^
#hannyoontify.works#seventeen#svt#mingyu#kim mingyu#seventeen mingyu#mingyu fluff#seventeen fluff#seventeen angst#mingyu angst#mingyu oneshot#seventeen imagines#seventeen fic#seventeen x reader#svt x reader#mingyu x reader#mingyu imagines
518 notes
·
View notes
Text
Splash Zone
Summary: You and Eddie go to Gareth's Pool Party
Fluff and bullshit, no y/n, reader not described, I don't think I used any pronouns for reader actually, not beta'd, implied Eddie x Reader
1k words
Eddie knew that of all the members in Hellfire that Gareth was the most well off next to Jeff. Well, in theory he knew that since it was Gareth’s parents who allowed Corroded Coffin to play in the garage a few times a week for practice. Eddie had even been inside of the home once or twice to use the bathroom, and had only caught glimpses of the pool in the backyard.
It was the hottest day of the year when Gareth invited everyone over to his place for his birthday. He grumbled that it was his parents that really wanted to throw him a huge bash for his 17th, but it’s not like the kid had any friends outside of Hellfire to come. So it was decided that after practice, Hellfire Club would spend the afternoon in the backyard eating cake and pizza and enjoying the freshly cleaned pool.
You showed up an hour after practice ended, and made your way to the back yard where music was blasting out of a very nice looking boombox. You dropped your birthday present for Gereth off on the table and made your way over to where the boys were all lined up with their heels against the edge of the pool. Most of them were soaked, but Eddie was still bone dry, they all looked excited and nervous as Eddie paced the line, holding what looked like a small magazine in his hands.
“Gareth. You have entered the long corridor and there are two doors. One red, and one blue. Which door do you enter?” Eddie had a maniacal grin.
You walked over beside Eddie, raising an eyebrow. “What’s going on here?”
“We’re just playing a game.” Eddie said waving the magazine. ADVENTURELAND was written on the front with a picture of a dragon. “I’m running the game and every time they die or make a stupid decision, I push them in the pool.”
“Are you a fucking nerd or something?” you asked, stripping down to your swimsuit, and making your way to the line up.
You had always known Eddie as a passionate DM, but seeing him now was next level. Everyone was taking the game seriously, but you just couldn’t. Normally you gave Eddie the respect he deserved as a dungeon master and rarely derailed on purpose but this was a special occasion.
After a few rounds of staying dry, Eddie approached you with the magazine and read from it dramatically. “Adventurer, you have made it to the cavern and inside you see a sword, a golden apple, and a letter. What do you do?”
“I attack the darkness.” You said, crossing your arms.
Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure about that?”
“Did I stutter?”
Eddie turns and sets the magazine down and the others take a step to the side away from you. You stood there with a smirk and crossed your arms as Eddie approached you.
“Using your fire ball, you attack a dark corner of the room.” He says. “The spell lights up the walls for a brief moment, and the air grows hotter. Then.... nothing happens.”
“Damn, I was sure that would do someth-THING!” Your response quickly turned into a squeal as he shoved you into the pool. You flailed as your back hit the cool water with an impressive splash. You stayed below the water for a moment before resurfacing with a laugh, wiping the water off your eyes.
You darted over to the stairs and hurried back into your place in the line up, feeling better about the heat now that you were soaked as your friends laughed and rolled their eyes.
This continued for the rest of the afternoon, as Eddie gave you all guidance and you all decided on what your shared character should do. With each misstep, one of you would be hurled into the pool by Eddie.
By the end of the adventure about an hour later, you all were soaked to the bone but emerged victorious with the treasure and the day saved. In victory, everyone except Eddie jumped in the pool and started splashing each other.
You looked over at Eddie with a raised eyebrow. “Not going to join them?” you asked.
“Yeah, I don’t exactly have swim trunks.” He said, glancing down at his shirt and cut off jeans.
“So?” you raised an eyebrow. “Oh shit, is that why you were playing? You didn’t want to get in without a swimsuit?”
“It’s fine. No use buying one when you’re not exactly in the vicinity of any pools.” He shrugged.
“Can you even swim?” you asked.
He glared at you. “I can swim. I grew up swimming in Lovers Lake.”
“Cool. Get in the pool.” you said.
“Are you serious?”
“It’s a pool party. Get in the pool.”
“Listen I-” He started backing up towards the pool as he saw the feral look in your eyes.
“Can swim. You’re getting in, Munson.” You adjusted your stance, getting ready to pounce.
“Hold on- shit I have- shit- wait!” Eddie reached into his pockets and frantically pulled out his lighter and wallet and threw them onto the table.
You weren’t a monster, so you waited politely as Eddie removed anything that he didn’t want to get wet, including his shirt. There was no stopping the way your eyes raked over his torso and the ink on his chest. The site only made your heart beat faster.
Once you decided it was all clear, you ran at Eddie, ready to push him into the pool. His arms wrapped around your waist and with a jump and a twist, the two of you toppled into the pool together as the rest of your friends cheered.
Eddie’s fringe fell into his eyes as he emerged from the water with you. He shook his head like a wet dog and splashed you immediately.
“Do you always have to make things harder on me?” he asked.
“Only when it’s fun for me- HEY!” You sputtered as Eddie splashed you with the might of poseidon.
You countered by jumping on his back and clinging to him like a tree. “I’ll remember this next time we’re alone.” You said quietly to him.
“Yeah? I look forward to it.” Eddie smirked and jumped backwards onto his back, taking you down with him once again.
---
A/N: I'm trying to write more drabbles because I'm always writing and have very little to show for it. So expect more one shots and short fics between chapters <3
163 notes
·
View notes
Note
YES PLEASE WRITE ABOUT THAT
the second i heard about all the merch nat had amassed i thought about what readers reaction would be if they would think its sweet or tease her or make fun of how she most definitely got ripped off for most of them but will now get them free (and the most important signature of all going on the marriage certificate duh)
But it also made me think what about readers 🤔
In my head reader has all of nat’s articles printed out some even framed
synopsis: just a short one-shot / drabble based on the cute request above!
read the original forty, love.
natasha romanoff x tennis player! reader
word count: 1.9k words
it had been a spontaneous decision; natasha inviting you back to her apartment. the both of you were more than slightly tipsy at that point, and you were in no condition to drive back home. luckily, or not, the bar had been right by her place, and within walking distance of her way home.
natasha thanked her lucky stars that she had liquid courage fuelling her bravery, as she asked, “do you just want to go back to my place?”
at your surprised glance, she laughed, and slapped you on the shoulder. “n-not anything weird, i promise. you will take the couch, and i will be very cosy in my bedroom.”
you were holding her up by then, and the smirk on your face was so teasing, so smug for a moment, that natasha had to remind herself that she was drunk, and it was wrong to kiss a friend. a friend she very much had a deep history with, a friend that she wouldn’t want to stay just friends with.
“okay, lead the way, ms. romanoff,” you gestured out of the bar, and natasha and you leaned against each other the whole walk home, in the freezing temperatures of new york in winter.
it was only when she had let the both of you in through the threshold of her space, and cursed drunkenly as she tried removing her thick socks, that she noticed you weren’t by her side anymore. and you weren’t as drunk as she had been when you left the bar.
natasha heard a snicker, and when she turned to see you crouching over the television stand, her heartbeat began to raise in embarrassment and her palms cold.
she was across the room in the next moment, screaming, “no, no! don’t look at that!”
but you were quicker, and you caught her right as she tried to block your view of the rows and rows of memorabilia that she had of you, carefully curated and collected over the years. her flailing arms trying desperately to release herself from your hold and swipe the memorabilia off of the stand and out of your memory.
then, she heard your laughter. a hearty, amused rumble from the depths of your chest, ringing against her ears as you laughed, and laughed, at her embarrassment and the blatant obsession over your career that she had followed through the years. “oh, natasha, my natasha.”
if she even had half her mind right on trying not to make her cheeks any redder, she would have blushed at the proclamation of you calling her yours. but you were already kneeling back down to eye level with the memorabilia then, inspecting each one with amusement, and slight fondness, in your eyes. she began right after your qualification for the Australian Open, while you were still in college, but broken up.
natasha decided it was pointless trying to stop you, and simply resigned and fell flat on the couch behind her, sighing until you had your fill.
“this was from years ago!” you picked out a ball that had been used for your final round in the qualifiers, and natasha threw her arm over her eyes.
“i know.”
you picked out a cap this time, “i remembered signing only about ten of these to give out to fans during the festive season.”
“i know. i signed up for your team’s emailers, lucky draws, even bought your stupid posters and water bottles, anything, to get a chance of winning that thing.”
you let out another grin, and while she couldn’t see you, you let your eyes soften at the fact that she had done so much to support you, and you hadn’t realised. all these years. it made everything a little bit of a shame; the lost time and wasted efforts.
finally, you took a row of little figurines of your racket designs over the years, neatly arranged and kept in an acrylic casing. “nat, you could start a museum about me at this rate.”
“oh, shut up!” she shot up this time, trying to wrench it out of your grasp, but you pulled away, giggling at her cheeks reddening again.
“seriously, how much have you spent on all this? must’ve cost you thousands, i’m a really expensive player,” you gave her a cheeky grin, and she took your cheeks in between her fingers, pinching as hard as she could. you yelped in pain as you jumped back, “ouch!”
“i hate you, i hate you so much.”
you rolled her over, grabbing a marker that you had spotted lying nearby, and immediately taking her arm to sign on it. she tried to bite you this time, but you managed to escape just in time. “your collection seems to say otherwise.”
that night, the proposition for you to sleep on the couch and her in her own bedroom was quickly forgotten; as the both of you ended up play fighting all the way until you landed on her bed. natasha pointed you out on it, but you were adamant, and pulling the covers over the both of you, exhausted from the bar and natasha’s punches, you sighed happily. “too late, i’m here now. bed’s too warm.”
she grumbled that she hated you once more, as she came in closer and slung her arm over your midriff to pull you close, under the guise of still being cold. you decided not to point out that her limbs were practically tangled with yours in the morning, head on your chest as she slept as peacefully as a child who had just gotten their first tennis ball signed by you in a tournament.
it was only years later, when you tried to point it out on the day of registering your marriage, had natasha threatened you sleeping on the couch in your shared apartment again. this time, you knew she meant business; and the threat was most likely real, so you shut up quickly and followed her into the registry.
while you signed the certificate beside her, she caught you stifling a laugh again, and jabbed your side to ask you what it was about.
“nothing.”
“tell. me,” she glared at you, “or i’m not signing that thing.”
your eyes twinkled with amusement, you looked so entertained by your own memory. “j-just…i was just thinking…how much the you in the past would have paid for this signature right here, on this certificate. you were my number 1 collector and fan, of course.”
the witness couldn’t control his own chuckles, seeing natasha pull you in by the ear and scolding you for teasing her until her whole body turned red with shame.
afterwards, however, when the two of you were alone, did she finally admit, “i still am your number 1 collector and fan. don’t you ever forget that, or try to replace me.”
–
but natasha had her own arsenal of materials to make fun of you for your obsession with her too, of course. while you hadn’t had memorabilia or kept up with her over the years with no contact, that was a problem that was quickly alleviated once you learnt of natasha’s full-time job as a reporter and editor.
the next match natasha came to after your first grand slam win, your manager had asked her how her day at the office the previous night went, and while taken aback, he sheepishly admitted that you had asked him to, and to make sure she was comfortable at the seats. she had first chalked it up to a lucky coincidence that you knew she was on the news yesterday, reporting on a recent economic trend that hit the country.
then, it was all debunked when you came to her later, and while distracted with fans that were coming up to you at your hotel, you had left your phone unattended at the bar with natasha. it wasn’t really her fault you received a ping from a message then, to reveal your lockscreen had been changed to one of a scheduling sheet. upon closer inspection, it had been natasha’s schedule sheet, of when she would be on air for the month, complete with the locations and timings that the firm had published for her. she presumed the ones in red highlights were when you had your matches, and true enough, they were, when she found your manager helping to record a segment of her news portions one day, and having to admit to her that you had asked him to so you could watch her after to destress. she could hardly control the butterflies that erupted in her belly at the confession.
when the both of you had gotten closer and you would spend some dinners and mornings at her place, natasha would find that you had even pinned her as the top editor in the morning news you would read, always reading what she had published first before anyone else, as if her writing was your morning coffee. she chose not to say anything of it, silently gleaming at the fact that you paid so much attention to what she wrote.
you would often say, “i really liked that piece, the one on the impacts of artificial intelligence in sports,” or some other topic that she would have written, and point out your own thoughts on her piece. it was like having her own personal editor, with no judgments, no criticism. just love for what she had put out, and validation for her work. natasha was glad she had a supporter so ardent as you had yours.
and when the two of you had officially gotten together, natasha once received a text from your best friend during your match, while she was at work, and sighed at the opportunity that she had missed. however, when she did open up the text, it gave access to a video that said best friend had recorded, and there you were, in your dressing room before the match, crouched over the small television set there was, watching her cover the daily news like it had been an action movie. you paid attention to every word, eyes following her as she moved around like an entranced puppy, and when you had to get up and leave, natasha saw you leaning close and pressing a kiss from your fingers to the screen where she was, in replacement of the lips you couldn’t kiss in real life then, and she couldn’t control her burst of laughter. you had to know about this, at the very least.
you physically recoiled and clamped your eyes shut in embarrassment when you saw the video yourself, natasha still fighting hard to control the chuckles coming out of her, and you begging for her to delete whatever you had just seen. “nat, please, please!”
“no, this is hilarious!” she said between fits, “you are hilarious. is this your pre-match ritual, baby?”
“it is not! n-no, i can’t have anyone else see me like this, i can’t have the public see me like this,” you tried to wrestle her off for the phone, but only half-heartedly, because natasha was never in a million years going to let you delete it.
“oh relax, it’s only going to leak if you really, really piss me off one day, or if this phone gets hacked,” she replied, eyes still dancing in amusement as you hid your face in your hands, shaking your head in shame. “it’s kind of sweet, i must admit.”
you pouted at her. “promise me it’s not going anywhere. promise me you won’t send it to anyone else.”
she interlaced her pinky with yours, “i promise.”
natasha had already sent the video to your manager, however, and allowed you to become the laughing stock of your team just days after that match occurred.
#natasha romanoff x reader#black widow x reader#natasha romanoff#tennis player! reader#forty love#natasha romanoff x tennis player! reader
222 notes
·
View notes
Text
warm hugs | spencer reid
summary: another agent makes a comment about spencer’s ‘dad-bod’, but how can he want to change that when being a dad is his favorite thing? anon requested platonic dad-bod spence whose kid says he’s comfy like a teddy bear 🥺🧸
• mentions of body image, food
+++ +++ +++
When your name lit up on his phone, it was a welcome sight in the midst of a day that had Spencer feeling down. “Spence, I’m so sorry,” you said. “I’m gonna be stuck at work a little later today. Could you pick Lily up from school?”
“Of course. Is everything okay?” he asked, leaning back against the wall of the empty office he’d taken refuge in.
“Yeah, just a last-minute meeting, it’s all good. How about I pick up some dinner and dessert on the way home as a treat?” He hesitated, and while he was the profiler in the relationship, you’d gotten good at reading him over the years. “Babe, is everything okay with you? You’ve never thought about turning down something sweet before.”
“No, it’s fine,” he said, trying to backpedal. “I don’t know, it was just a stupid comment another agent made.”
“What did they say?”
“Just pointing out that I don’t look the way I did a few years ago. Something about domesticity and putting on weight.”
Agent Hill had once been an assistant agent around the BAU bullpen until his transfer up to the New York Office. A training seminar had him back in the area for the first time in years, and he’d popped by Quantico to make a round of reunions. While he was chatting with everyone and making quips, he’d locked eyes on Spencer. “SSA Reid,” he’d said. “Haven’t seen you in a while! Looks like there’s a little more of you to see, huh? Domestic life must be treating you well.”
Spencer knew it was meant to be some sort of joke, but it didn’t lessen the way he felt suddenly too much, too conscious of the little extra weight he’d been carrying around his midsection since their daughter Lily had been a baby. It wasn’t something that normally bothered him, but then again it wasn’t something other people normally commented on, outside of you resting your head on his tummy and waxing poetic about how comfortable he was.
Spencer pushed the thought to the back of his mind as he drove to the school. Lily was always a welcome distraction from whatever he was ruminating on, but the way the four-year old was frowning in the backseat demanded particular attention. Her answers about her day were short and vague, unlike her usual cheerful self. It wasn’t until they got home that he finally got her to admit what was on her mind.
“I just wanted to finish my book during nap time, but Teacher got mad at me and she said I wasn’t allowed. The she took it for the rest of the day. It wasn’t fair,” she grumbled. “I just wanted to read my book!”
Spencer would talk to her later about rules, and maybe try to get permission from her teacher to let her read instead, but that could wait. Right now he just needed to get his little girl out of this funk.
“So you had a bad day, huh? And you’ve got some bad feelings now?”
Lily nodded, sticking out her lip in a perfect pout.
“Then I guess it’s up to me to turn that frown…” - he snatched her up in his arms, maneuvering her over his shoulder - “upside down!” Holding tight to her he spun them around until she was giggling, her little feet flailing, hands clutching at his sweater.
The moment he dropped her back onto the couch he began to tickle her, ensuring her laughter had no chance to subside. When she seemed to have tired herself out from laughing he finally let up. “That’s much better, isn’t it?” he asked. “I like seeing your smile. So tell me, what would help make these bad feelings go away?”
Lily thought for a moment, pressing her lips together in a thin line the exact way her father did when he was deep in concentration. “Can we make brownies? And maybe watch the Elsa movie?”
“Of course we can.” Both tasks had once been a challenge for him, but he’d learned to make a box mix without burning the house down over the years, and had long since surrendered to the fact that he could not escape the endless loop of children’s movies. While Frozen was ingrained in his memory after the first watch, he learned to tolerate the repeat watches and soundtrack plays for the joy it brought to his daughter. She in fact treated him to her own rendition of the songs while they stirred the brownie mix, her energetic demeanor returning as he probed her with questions about the movie’s characters and what was happening in her favorite books. Just before he placed them in the oven, she insisted on adding handfuls of brightly colored sprinkles into the mix, saying it was a magic ingredient.
Lily insisted on changing into a pair of pajamas with Anna and Elsa on them while Spencer set up a cozy nest of blankets and pillows on the living room couch. He started the movie while the brownies baked, slipping away to take them out of the oven while Anna sang about the impending coronation. With one brownie on a plate and two cups of hot cocoa, he returned to her side on the couch. “Here you are, princess,” he said with a small bow, placing the plate in front of her.
“Where’s yours?” Lily asked.
“Oh, I’ll have one later,” he lied. “After all, princesses have first dibs.” The truth was he hadn’t stopped thinking about Agent Hill’s comment. Maybe it was time to get back in shape, shed the new-dad weight he’d never quite lost. That would mean cutting back on sugar - his favorite of the food groups - and the time he spent lying on the couch instead of hitting the gym.
Lily inched close to him, wrapping her arms around his waist, her head resting on the top of his tummy. Spencer pulled the blanket up over her and draped an arm around her. It was his job to make her feel better, but cuddling with her on the couch was helping to dispel his own sour mood as well.
“I think Olaf would like your hugs, Papa,” she told him. “You give the best hugs.”
“Is that right?” he asked.
She nodded, the movement tugging his shirt. “Yeah. I like hugging you. You’re soft.” That kernel of shame swelled up again at the comment only a child could make with such innocent bluntness. “And warm. Good for snuggling. You’re like a teddy bear! I love teddies, but I love you better, Papa.” As if for emphasis, she squeezed him in a tighter hug.
That bit of shame immediately began to melt at her words. Lily continued, her eyes never leaving the screen. “Cuz you can do all the things a teddy can’t, and you make brownies with me and you carry me when I’m tired and you’re the most comfy ever. That’s why your hugs are magic.”
They sat on the couch, Lily enraptured by the movie on the screen, and Spencer ruminating over her words. Warm, soft, good for snuggling. Wasn’t that what you were always saying too?
“Papa, are you going to eat a brownie?” Lily asked. “I put the sprinkles in so they’d be extra good!” The puppy dog-eyed pout was another expression she’d picked up from him, and he just couldn’t resist this time. Maybe he didn’t need to. He ventured back into the kitchen, returning with three brownies on the plate. She watched as he took the first bite.
“You’re right!” he told her. “These are the best brownies I’ve ever had!” And they certainly were when saying so produced such a huge smile on Lily’s face. She returned to her position snuggling up with him and he was content to indulge in the sweet treats before them. So maybe it wouldn’t help with the problem of his tummy, but maybe it wasn’t such a problem after all. How could it be when that softness was something his daughter and partner found endearing? If his hugs could make Lily happier and eating desserts was a moment he could share with her, why would he want to change that?
His body was proof of the thing he was proudest of in his life - being a dad. A dad who was always there, who loved lazy weekends snuggled up with his family and treating Lily to sweets she always offered to share with him. He loved that he was someone his daughter felt safe with, that his arms could offer comfort on the bad days and the good days and all the days in-between.
When you returned home, you found them like that on the couch watching the end of the movie, Spencer caught red-handed with a brownie in his hand. Lily rushed over to greet you with a hug, happily babbling about her day as Spencer quickly finished the brownie before walking over to join you.
Distracted by the closing credits, Lily wandered back to the couch to sing along while Spencer welcomed you home with a kiss.
“Mm, you taste like chocolate. So you’re not still upset about that comment today?” you asked.
Spencer shrugged. “I don’t want to cut out the things that make life sweeter. Lily says my tummy makes me good to hug. Like a teddy bear. How could I give that up?”
You smiled. “She’s right, of course. I mean, I liked hugging you even when you were practically a bean pole. But you are much more comfortable with a little extra padding.” You gave his belly an encouraging pat. “And it’s nice to have more of you to hold onto.”
So his cardigans were a size larger these days, and he had to buckle his belts a couple notches looser than he had before. But those were signs his life had changed, his world had grown, filled by the presence of so much love and sweetness. Maybe there was a little more of him now, but he didn’t care so long as he had a little more to love in his life.
+++
tell me what you think here!
#spencer reid x reader#fanfiction#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfiction#imagine#reid x reader#softdoctorreid#z writes#tum tag
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Folded
pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader
word count: 3.4k
warnings: attack description, clicker attack, nightmares, anxiety, wound description, angst, denial of feelings, alcohol mentioned, swearing, mentions and descriptions of gun use, near death experience (if u can’t handle the game don’t read)
HAPPY LAST OF US DAY!!!
a/n ive played tlou 3x and tlou2 2x (going through my second round rn) so shut up pls i dont want any of the ‘you only like joel bc hes pedro’ fr come on ive been playing this game since i was 12. (i’m not like other girls 🥵) jackson joel just does something to me mmmm. wrote this nov 18 ‘22 saved for today
Don’t forget 9PM EST on HBO Max
summary Y/N gets attacked by a clicker during an intense time with Joel
masterlist
join the tag list
read time: 12 mins 28 seconds
You could feel the air escaping your lungs at a dangerous rate. The rifle at your side slammed against your thigh as you kept running. The thick forest was just as you remembered it; wet, cold, and dark.
You were outnumbered. Mostly runners, but you spotted a few clickers. The brush on the forest floor wasn’t helping. Your heavy breathing and the sloshing of your boots against the snowy ground were making too much noise.
Where the fuck was Ellie?
3 bullets. Rifle was empty, spent that on some sharp shooting up the hill on some runners you and Ellie found in the town. How stupid were you? Those were an easy kill with a knife. But your childish games on who could get the best headshot left you empty.
Your heart dropped as the rock formation appeared. It was too high. It covered the forest like the earth split into two. That is when you came to terms, and you had to come to it quickly.
You were going to die.
Soon enough, the first runner appeared. Easy kill. One down, maybe 7 to go?
Where the fuck was Ellie?
The next one came. Two down. Three at a time now? A fucking clicker followed them? You wished the brush was tall enough to hide in.
It was useless fighting off three runners at a time with a clicker on their heels. This was it. Death.
The stone wall was cool against your backside. You hugged your knees to your chest as you pulled out your handgun.
At least the clicker would have a good meal.
Shot- one down. Shot- another. The clicker sped up. Shot, wounded but not dead. Quick slice with the knife. Dead.
The shrieking screams of the clicker engulfed your senses as the monster came running at you. It’s flailing arms we’re the last thing you were prepared to see.
You felt the hands on your shoulder. Dead hands of a monster, unspeakable to most. The hands grabbed your shoulders, but no bite came.
Just blinding white noise and a splatter on your face.
You had convinced yourself you were dead. You would never see anyone again. You had died the same death as your father years prior. The death that left you alone.
“Dad?” you managed to mutter out.
The white noise turned into ringing as two hands held your shoulder and shook you.
“Y/N? Y/N please, are you okay?”
Ellie.
“Maria I found her! Here!”
Cloth material wiped over your eyes and they opened. Ellie, splattered with blood stood in front of you with the most panicked look you had ever seen on the girls face.
“Your okay!” she yelled at you, wrapping her arms around you.
Sitting besides you two was the headless clicker that should have killed you.
***
You should be dead. Get this horrible life over with. Dead with your father, with the mother you never knew. Living a life without this disease, these creatures. Free of pain.
When you woke up in the medical wing you were pretty sure almost the whole town was there. You felt like an item on display at a museum. Looking over all the eyes, you most definitely were not searching for his. The whole reason you volunteered to go out with Ellie that day instead of Dina. And of course, he was not there. Why would he be?
“She’s awake!” someone yelled from the crowd. Every eye in the room seemed to fall on you at once. The nurse pushed past the group of people and went to your side.
“For heavens sake! Get out!” the nurse yelled to the group of onlookers. “Give her some goddamn space.” you heard from the crowd as people started to walk towards the exit.
Everyone wanted a look at the girl who survived a clicker attack.
“Hey,” she said, slowly approaching you and sitting on the chair next to your bed. “Ellie!” you exclaimed, embracing the girl tightly. “What happened?” you asked Ellie, releasing your grip on her and settling back into the bed.
The bond had been there since the day you met her. You always remember the look of the scared little girl on the back of Joel’s horse when they first entered Jackson. The bond you two had helped her grow into the person she is now. Ellie had always described you as an older sister. But Ellie was always there for you, and you for her. She was your best friend, platonic soulmate. And a damn good shot.
“I killed it,” she said bluntly. “I-I came at the right time it was about to bite you and- you should have seen it Y/N my shotgun did a number on that thing.”
“A-am I infected?” you asked, looking down at your body for the first time. Your tank top was still on, your jacket was missing. Your jeans were covered in dry blood and smelt of pine needles.
“It’s been three days. You got some pretty nasty scratches though. Sick looking if you ask me. Scars of a warrior.” she added, referring to her tattoo.
And that’s when you saw them. The claw marks were sewn shut on your left shoulder. Your eyes widened as you began to panic. You began to squirm and the pain set in.
“Hey, hey calm down. She took care of you. Best nurse in town, I made sure.” Ellie said, grabbing your good shoulder and stroking your arm to calm you down.
“The doctors said if your vitals stay stable for the next few hours you can go home. Dina and I cleaned up the place for you,” Ellie smiled, stroking a strand of hair behind your ear.
“What have people been saying?” you asked, holding her hand tightly in yours. “That your a hero. You cleared out that building and we found a stash of food that’s going to last for… well, probably a good year. That’s amazing Y/N! They found baby formula for JJ- tons of it. You were right it was the old warehouse.”
A small smile rose to your lips but Ellie could tell what you really wanted to hear about.
What Joel had been saying.
And Joel hasn’t said much. Tommy had told him a brief description in passing of what happened when it was happening. He figured you were dead when they sent out a rescue wagon for you. He even watched as Maria’s horse lead in your body. Ellie was sitting with you in her arms screaming for a nurse, your whole left arm was covered in blood. What was visible of your face was white as a sheet and you weren’t moving. Joel had to silently give up the inkling of what could have been. Hell, you were the first girl who he even considered after his divorce over thirty years ago. It had to end one day and he had to silently agree with it.
“I don’t…” Ellie began, following with a sigh. “Y/N, don’t get yourself worked up over it. It’s not worth it.” Ellie began, knowing her friend too well. “Did he even come and see me?” you asked, looking to Ellie’s eyes. She couldn’t look into yours. She closed her eyes for a quick moment and shook her head. “No,” she whispered.
“Am I a fool?” you asked her. “I’m not sure,” she replied, weary.
The whole reason you went with her instead of Dina was because of Joel. You most definitely could not face him that day after the previous night.
He had knocked on your door a little after nine. He noticed a change in your demeanor today when he came in the room while teaching the some of the kids how to shoot. He wanted to make sure you were okay. Joel felt like he had some responsibility over you to make sure you were always okay because of what happened.
Joel was the one who was with your father when he died.
Sure, he was older than you. You weren’t sure exactly, but he was younger than your father by many years. The attraction from your end started when you saw him drunk off his ass during a celebration dancing with Tommy in the bar. It was the most unconventionally attractive thing, but it flipped some switch in you. When your dad died he taught you how to perfect your aim and kill efficiently. Never crossing any line because you were his dead friend’s daughter. And you were so close to Ellie. Ellie wasn’t too fond of your crush that you confided in her, but she grew to love the idea. Her family.
He came and visited you a little after nine. You were about to slip into bed before you heard the knock on your door. The night was cold and your pajama pants and thin tank top was not cutting it. You invited him inside. He had brought you a tiny gift to lift your mood; a bottle of gin. Your favorite. And you two drank at least half of that bottle of gin. You talked about everything from your father’s death to the time Tommy accidentally washed his clothes with Maria’s pink bra and still has an abundance of pink clothing to this day. The gin was most definitely speaking when you told him how you felt.
And he left.
“Let it go for now- okay? We’re gonna get you out of here and back home.” Ellie reassured you. Nodding your head, you fell back into the cold bed and closed your eyes just wishing it could all go away.
-
Home was empty as it could be. The bottle of gin sat on your coffee table. Your bed was made for the first time in years. Your work station was organized and all of your pens and art supplies were cleaned. You had remembered when Joel gave you those pens, he found them one day and thought of you. Your rifles now hung on your wall. Definitely was Dina’s idea, but you liked it. A tiny gift wrapped in a beige paper with a tiny bit of twine around it sat under your newly mounted rifles.
“Woo hoo. Christmas.” you said to yourself sarcastically. Kneeling down, you opened the package.
Bullets.
For safe keeping, ~Maria
Of course it was from Maria. She always played the mother you never had when she wanted to.
The immense feeling of sleep hit you like a brick wall. I guess being attacked by a clicker and living was a strenuous activity. All you wanted now to do was sleep. Unmaking the nicely folded sheets, you melted back into your bed. The sun was setting in your window and the horses were coming in for the day. You could hear them trotting past your window. You wondered if Joel was just feet away. It was what now… Thursday? You couldn’t remember if he still did the Thursday shift or if he switched with someone else. Who cares, sleep was creeping up slowly and the thought of Joel set you out cold.
The forest was blacker than usual. Without a doubt, you recognized where you were. Running again. All you seemed to do was run now these days. Taking a brief look back while you ran through the forest, you stopped as you realized a whole hoard of clickers were just at your heels. You didn’t have time to react. They were on you ripping your flesh off your body. The dream never seemed to end. You felt each bite and tear of your flesh until-
“Y/N!” Maria screamed, shaking you awake and still being mindful of your wound. “Fuck!” you screamed, sobbing into her arms. “Fuckfuckfuckfuck!” you continued, squirming in bed as she held you.
Your door was wide open and it was now pitch black out. The screams alerted security, and they called for a search of the town. Tommy quickly found the source of the screams and sent Maria in.
Standing outside your door was Tommy, peering in on the sight of his wife with you.
“Gather people. She needs to be watched.” Maria commanded Tommy as she held your shaking body. Too many people had left their homes now to look at the scene and disrupted the peaceful night.
-
Ellie sat with your head in her lap, slowly stroking your hair trying to get you to fall asleep. “Don’t worry. Nobody in this town will let anything happen to you. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
The whole previous night you didn’t sleep. You stared at your wall and just thought. And that whole day you delved yourself in drawings you hadn’t finished or poems you had the inspiration for. Took a shower. You looked through your closet and picked out a fresh outfit. You tried all the little things that usually worked on your old self, but your old self was gone.
That bottle of gin sat on your coffee table and haunted you throughout the day as well. You didn’t have the heart to throw it away, or the mindset to drink it. So there it sat. Pitiful.
You were at a loss for words. No words could describe the immense amount of pain re living that memory caused last night.
Ellie began to hum a tune. It was sweet and reminded you of something innocent. Your eyes began to get heavy. “You ready?” she asked, fluffing up your pillow. Reluctantly, you shook your head yes.
The absolute end was there and tiredness finally seeped in. Distraught sleep left and peaceful sleep took its place.
Ellie dimmed your lamp and smoothed the covers on your bed. It reminded you of the time you took care of Ellie years ago when she was sick. “Sweet dreams,” she said, giving your forehead a brief kiss.
Mumbling was heard outside your door, but you didn’t care.
The field was beautiful. Finally, peace. The flowers stemmed beautifully and the sun shown down on your face. Your hands ran through the fresh green grass. Laying in the rays, you suddenly felt the field get smaller. Sitting up, you realized the sun had disappeared and the field was getting smaller and smaller by the second. The sudden edge of a forest was getting closer and closer. And then with one blink you were back. The forest erected around you. You were back.
“No, no…” he heard from your house. Joel’s interest peaked from the grounds left in his coffee mug to the silent struggles in your bedroom. He lifted himself off your porch chair and looked through your window. You were writhing in bed.
“Ellie!” you let out the first yell. It was so loud that it startled Joel to his core and began a flight of panic. Joel didn’t hesitate to burst your door open. “Ellie don’t leave!” you yelled again.
“Hey,” he said softly, patting your shoulder. A loud groan of pain came from your lips. Joel’s heart sank as the feelings on guilt he felt for letting you go on patrol that day set in once again.
“Y/N!” he whisper yelled, yanking your body over to face him. Your eyes shot open. Ripped from the dream into another one.
You looked him up and down. This wasn’t real. It was another dream. Tears welled up in your eyes as you shut them tight, praying you would wake up somewhere else.
“It was a bad dream,” he whispered, resting his hand on your thigh. His thumb patiently rubbed your thigh as your breathing sped up. Your legs matched up perfectly, knees facing him. Your face was buried in your hands that were now grasping at your eyes.
“Stop it,” Joel hissed, grabbing your manic hands tightly. “This isn’t real,” you cried out, sobs following it.
His heart seemed to break into a million pieces when you started to full on cry. The last time he dealt with a crying girl it was Ellie. Wait- no, maybe it was Sarah. He honestly wasn’t sure, but it was most definitely years ago.
“Everything is alright. I know how it is. I-I didn’t sleep for a few days after my first clicker encounter. Those things are nasty fuckers.” he said, his hand returning to your thigh trying to soothe you. He was clueless on what he was supposed to do.
At this point, you realized you weren’t dreaming. He was here. His hand was on your thigh. He was sitting on your bed. You were in a tank top that cut a little too low for your liking.
Your teary eyes looked up and met his. He hadn’t moved his gaze off of your face. He gave you a soft reassuring smile.
Joel cursed himself for letting his feelings creep back in. This was wrong anyways, he felt sick any time he thought about you. The pit of his stomach couldn’t handle it much more, he had pretty much forgotten about you (as much as he would like to admit). But when Tommy assigned him second watch of you that night, he just knew it had trouble written all over it.
“Go back to sleep now. Pretty girls need their beauty sleep.” he said, instantly regretting it.
That line worked on Sarah, but in a whole different way with a much different meaning. He wanted to suck back in the words as fast as he said them.
Letting a tense breathe go, he steadied himself on your bed frame and made his way to the door.
He had made his way to the door as you spoke.
“Joel?”
His hand stopped his motion as it rested on the top of your door frame.
“Yeah?” he asked, turning around.
“W-will you stay? Just for a little bit.” you said, stuttering as you realized how large his body was compared to your door.
He paused. “I suppose.”
You moved your legs so he would have enough room to sit next to you. You heard his knee crack as he sat down on the low rise bed. His legs sat upward as he leant a hand behind your legs to steady himself.
“I’m sorry.” you said. It had to be said, what better time than now? “I don’t want to hear your apologies.” he huffed. “It was inappropriate.” you spit out again. “No- Y/N, stop. Please.” he asked. “You need to get some sleep.”
“I can’t sleep. Every time I sleep I go… back there. I can’t.” you whimpered. He sighed, groaning and wiping his brow.
“What would you like me to do about it? I can’t do anything.”
“Stay.”
Joel was left confused on how your calmness met his angry tone. He knew you well, he was surprised you weren’t screaming in his face. You didn’t take shit. You were being patient for once in your life.
Oh, how you’ve changed since the attack.
“I’m here. What more do you want from me?” he asked. His tone had extra edge of anger to it that was fueled with a faint passion.
In the darkness, you reached for his hand. It was coarse and dry, with many various scars and callouses you could feel just with a slight touch. He instinctively pulled back a bit, but gave in within the second. Wrapping your fingers with his, you places his hand back on your thigh.
“Y/N I-”
“The thing you were doing before on my leg. It was nice.”
“Oh,” he said, defeating the original thought from his head. His thumb began slowly moving in circles once again.
You were showing him what you needed.
He watched as your sad face closed your eyes and sighed. You felt safe for the first time in days.
Joel felt the pit in his stomach widen and fully consume him. The girl who practically raised Ellie from when she arrived; his dead friend’s daughter; one of the best damn killers in all of Jackson; Y/N. God, he was in so much trouble with his morals.
“I’m too far deep in this shit,” he muttered to himself, rubbing his forehead with his free hand.
Your eyes fluttered open to see him. “What?” you asked.
“I can’t…” he said, beginning to shake his knee up and down. “What?” repeated yourself in a confused tone.
His strong body swept over yours. He grabbed your shoulder ever so softly and perched you in his arms. Your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck.
No initiative had to be made besides the movement of your lips against his. Your hand wrapped itself in his hair, playing softly as he held your back strongly. A slight moan came from his lips that he instantly regretted when you accidentally tugged ever so slightly on his graying strands of hair. For the split second that you two separated gasping for air, he pulled you tighter.
“You don’t know how long I’ve been fighting this,” he whispered on your lips. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” you sighed, staring back at his scruffy face.
Joel came back to his senses. He felt different. He could never go back to the same person he was a minute ago. His world revolved around something new. No more obsessing over patrol and how to appease Tommy. No more worrying over how Ellie could handle herself. No more worrying about his aching joints and the fear of getting older. Something new became the center of his universe. He had folded.
The girl laying in his arms who now rested her head against his chest.
“You really need sleep darlin’,” he sighed. You sighed in resistance.
“You want me to stay?” he asked, looking down at your exhausted face.
“Please.”
You moved over in your bed as he made himself comfortable. Joel never realized how much larger he was than you until he slept with you in his arms.
You layed on his chest as one arm wrapped around your shoulders. His hand rested comfortably on your shoulder.
“Thank you.” you whispered. He placed a small kiss on your head. Your arms wrapped around your stomach, making yourself more comfortable in his embrace. The only sound in the room was your soft breathing.
“Go to sleep now. Your safe with me, my sweet girl.”
tag list: @dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @samanthacookieone @maddieinnit0 @alexxavicry @scoliobean @jmillerswife
#peterparkersnose#joel miller#pedro pascal#the last of us#the last of us hbo#joel miller angst#joel miller fluff#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x fem!reader#pedro pascal fanfiction#joel miller fanfiction#the last of us fanfiction#tlou#tlou2#ellie williams#joel miller one shot#joel miller headcanon#joel miller fan fiction#joel miller the last of us#joel miller the last of us fanfiction#joel miller pedro pascal#joel miller pedro pascal fanfiction#joel miller pedro pascal the last of us fanfiction#pedro pascal imagine#pedro pascal fan fiction#pedro pascal fluff#pedro pascal angst#pedro pascal one shot
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
╰┈➤ reunited with rafe
warnings: kinda angsty i guess?
summary: childhood friends turned enemies find themselves in a sticky situation.
a crybaby. that’s what he always called her. whether she had scraped her knees in the garden with sarah when she was seven, or the book she was reading had a sad ending, y/n was a crybaby. but oh, how he hated it when she cried, more so when he was the one who caused it.
y/n always had a rocky relationship with her bestfriends brother, he hated her, or so she thought. never quite catching the twinkle in his eye whenever she was around. god forbid she ever noticed, from the age of nine, rafe cameron went to great lengths to hide the truth.
he made y/n’s life hell from the moment they met at her and sarah’s first sleepover, until the day her and her friends escaped the boat to guadeloupe. she wondered still, what stopped him from unloading on their lifeboat, but he knew the answer to that very well.
the pogues shared anxious glances as they were rescued from the unknown island, now poguelandia. something didn’t feel right, and they all knew it.
“he’s working for my dad. they’ve probably been looking for us this whole time!” sarah cried, holding back a nervous sob. y/n nodded as she drew circles arm, like when they were kids. “she’s right, search the plane, there might be clues..” poor whispered, a brief nod to john b and everyone was on the same page.
the crew scavenged the back of the plane, looking for anything that would tell them who this man was while john b distracted the pilot.
sarah grabbed a photograph out of jj’s hand, staring at it in horror. “the coastal venture, oh my god” she breathed.
bickering ensued as the pogues came up with their own ideas on what to do. john b did his best to keep the pilot talking until he spotted jj putting a book back into his bag, reaching round to grab at him. before they knew it, they were going down, and fast.
landing with a crash, the plane filled up with water as the pogues struggled their way out. It was all happening so fast, none of them took a moment to notice y/n’s foot was trapped in some netting. “guys!” she shrieked to no avail. flailing furiously to untangle her foot.
pushing the net away from her as if it had attacked her, she fled the plane, swimming across to shore, only to find her friends weren’t there.
she didn’t have a chance to catch her breath before guards stormed her, coming from all directions. y/n took off running, hiding between trees and boats before she was grabbed from behind.
y/n continued screaming for her friends to help her when she was placed in the back of a truck.
arrival at her destination was less than pleasant as a large man dragged her upstairs to a room and pushed her inside. turning back, she questioned the man, who refused to answer her questions.
after a couple hours of wracking her brain, she put the dress on which had been laid out for her. despite the situation, she took a moment to admire the way it hugged her curves beautifully, the red satin complimenting her olive skin.
“uh, excuse me?” she asked, noticing a man in the dining room of the house.
her face contorted when he turned around, as did his. meeting her eyes, it felt as though his heart had fallen into his stomach, he wasn’t sure he’d ever see her again.
“i knew it! i knew it was you, getting your little friend to ‘rescue us’, it’s always you!’ y/n snapped, unable to suppress the anger, which she had been holding onto for years.
“me? you’re the one trying to get in on my deal!” he spat back, his heart hurting.
“I wondered if your little reunion would cause sparks y’know” an unfamiliar voice appeared. the two shared a hateful look before turning towards it.
“it’s a pleasure to meet you mr cameron..” gesturing toward him before doing the same to the girl “and you, miss y/l/n, i apologise for the rough tactics in bringing you here..” the man bowed his head slightly, feigning regret.
furrowing his brows, rafe analysed the sentence, a familiar type of anger growing inside of him once again, having stayed dormant for a while.
“rough tactics? what about me?” rafe questioned sheepishly, struggling to suppress the thoughts of anyone but him laying a hand on her.
after a long conversation, both parties now held the information as to why they were there. denmark tanny’s diary, pope’s diary. y/n kept her cards close to her chest, denying all knowledge of the diary.
“i know one of you has the diary. once i have it, you’ll be free to leave” carlos stated, leaving an air of tension behind him as he left.
y/n stayed silent, avoiding rafe’s eyes, which she didn’t notice were inspecting her as she stared out of the window.
poking out through the open back of the dress, lay an angry purple bruise, looking further, he saw how it spread across the whole left side of her ribcage. rubbing his forehead, rafe struggled to find the words for a second.
“th-they did that to you? he stuttered, frustration clear on his face. the disgusted look on her face said it all, yet she prevailed. “why do you care? it’s not like you haven’t done worse.” she spat at him, all the memories of rafe’s brutality fresh in her mind.
holding his hand up “never to you i didn’t!” he remarked, as if that would change anything. “but to the people i love! you expect me to stand here and be happy to see you? after everything you did to us, to your own sister?” she wailed, her mind going back to her friends.
before she could wish them away, awful thoughts invaded her mind. she had no idea where her friends were, they could be dead for all she knew. biting his tongue, rafe looked up at her, seeing her big green eyes well up with tears just like they had that time in the garden.
“you are such a crybaby” he snapped, his sharp words cutting her just like they had done before.
#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x fem!reader#dom!rafe#rafe cameron#outer banks#outerbanks rafe#obx#rafecameron#rafe obx
490 notes
·
View notes
Text
fight club (dark!joel miller x f!reader; dead dove do not eat)
Summary: Post outbreak set in the Boston QZ. You decide to go against Joel in an underground QZ fight club for some extra coin. Joel doesn't take kindly to the competition and decides to punish you in his own special way. Word count: 3.6k
Warnings/tags: Dead Dove Do Not Eat. 18+ minors dni. Unprotected PIV, fingering (f receiving), slapping, choking, hair pulling, violence, blood, degradation, curse word, age gap, dark content, noncon, dubcon.
a/n: This is the darkest one I’ve written so far so let me know what you think. Author is 18+ Written for #deaddovedecember2023 hosted by @romana-after-dark
You’ve had your fair share of blunders and brushes with death, but this has got to be one of the stupidest things you’ve ever done. But you’re desperate. Really freaking desperate. And desperate people throw out all caution and logic and good old fashioned common sense. So here you are, sweaty hair plastered to your forehead, heart racing, knuckles bloody. And you’re about to make another terrible mistake.
You’ve been in the Boston QZ for about 2 years now and every side hustle and grift you’ve tried has ultimately failed. One of your fellow con artists mentioned some back-alley action, an illegal underground fight club. So you follow his direction to the hideout, through an alley to the back of an abandoned building and down the stairs to the basement. You think the place must have been used for storage before, its mostly unfinished. It’s a large square room with low ceilings. All the furniture has been pushed to the sides of the room, leaving the center open. There’s a mob of people shouting and cheering, mostly large men but you spot a couple of females too. You recognize a few faces amongst the crowd as smugglers you’ve previously dealt with. There are a few lamps in the corners of the room but it’s still dimly lit. There’s a poker table pushed up against the wall, bottles of alcohol, and a caged rooster in the back. You guess this place does everything – speakeasy, gambling, cock fighting, and the ring.
There’s smoke in the air that burns your eyes and when you walk little clouds of dust follow in your footsteps. The smell of sweat, alcohol, and cigarettes engulfs your senses. The place is packed and noisy with swearing and shouting. You push through a throng of people to get to the bookie sitting on a high stool in the corner. She’s wearing a red and black flannel with black jeans and combat boots. She nods to you as you approach.
“Never seen you here, but if you’re here that means one of us trusted you enough let you in. Welcome. So, what can I do for you? Who ya bettin’ on?” She nods to the ring.
Ring is a generous term. Really it’s a cleared away area in the center of the room with a white circle on the floor drawn in chalk. There are two burly men inside fighting it out, fists flailing and blood flying. You notice that one has several teeth missing and cauliflower ear. He seems to be winning.
You turn back to her. “I’m not betting, I’m here to fight.”
She pauses to read your face and once she sees you’re serious she chuckles. She looks you up and down, taking in your skinny arms and round unscarred face. She holds out her hand. “The name’s Tess.”
You take her hand with a firm grip.
“Alright girl, you’re in. But I hope you know what you’re doing.” She gives you all the rules. Basically, you win if your opponent steps out of the ring or they don’t get up after a 10 second count. “I’ll be rootin’ for ya.” She says as you turn to leave. She sounds sincere.
You’re already starting to feel sick. Your stomach is turning, you’re so nauseous and the loud noises and metallic smell of blood isn’t helping. You go to a corner room, as far away as possible, and sit on a flipped over crate to wait. You’re wearing a loose t-shirt with your green cargo jacket overtop, black leggings, and your combat boots. You watch your swinging feet, trying to calm your nerves and not think about the sound of crunching bone you just heard. You wonder whose nose was just broken, Big Guy or Toothless.
As you’re sitting, zoning out, you feel someone walk up beside you. Your head snaps up.
“Hi there.”
Now this is a face you definitely don’t know. You’d remember him. He’s probably in his late 40’s, tall and broad shouldered with patchy facial hair, a strong nose and jaw line, and a pinched brow that makes it look like he’s permanently scowling. But there’s something in his dark brown eyes that catches your attention. It’s alluring and yet it makes you very uneasy. There’s a danger hidden there. He sits on the crate next to you with a sigh. He’s wearing jeans and a tight grey t-shirt that shows off his sculped chest and hugs his tanned biceps. That catches your attention too. You watch his muscles flex as he lowers himself onto the crate. Maybe you’re staring too long. He kicks you crate with a heavy boot.
“Hello?”
Even his voice is entrancing, gruff, dark, masculine, with a thick Texan accent. You blink and clear your throat. “Hi.” You say flatly. You try to appear confident and nonchalant, like you’re bored with this whole thing. Like you’re not scared shitless right now. You’re trying to convince yourself just as much as him.
“You come here often?” He asks and you can’t help but smile at the lame joke. His eyes move to your lips as you smile and his own form a wicked grin. It scares you. Your mouth falls back.
“Um no, this is my first time here. My first match in the ring.”
“You’re fighting?” He sounds equally surprised and impressed. His eyes light up and that predatory grin appears on his face again. “Little thing like you… going up against these grown men. You must be one tough little girl.”
You shift your weight, his words making you uncomfortable.
He quietly adds, “How I like ‘em. A fighter.”
Before you get a chance to respond there’s a roar of the crowd and you watch as they drag a body from the ring and prop him against the wall. You hope he’s just unconscious. You turn back to the stranger but he’s gone. The crowd quiets and you hear Tess call out, “Next round is against my partner Joel. Y’all know Joel. Any takers?”
You get to your feet. The crowd is too thick to see the opponent in the ring. But you don’t even care to see what he looks like first, no point sizing him up. You know all these fighters will be bigger and stronger than you. You have to do it now before you lose the small amount of courage you have left. You can’t sit still any longer.
“Here.” You call out. As you walk to the ring you tell yourself over and over again that they may have more muscle, but you rely on your speed and your skill.
You push through the circle of onlookers, most don’t even seem to notice you or bother to move out of the way. You’re too short to see over their heads so you raise your hand in the air and repeat, “here!” Finally they part. Faces look down at you as you pass and you can read the looks of disbelief and amusement in their eyes. You step over the line of chalk and face Tess. “I challenge,” you say in your most confident voice. Tess looks uncertain, even worried for you. Her throat bobs and she looks like she might say something, but instead she just nods. You turn to face your opponent. Oh shit, it’s the stranger. Joel. You know his name now. He’s giving you that horrible predatory grin again as he looks you up and down shamelessly. He’s so cocky it boils your blood.
“Well look who it is, Newbie.”
You snarl in response but he just laughs at you.
“Begin,” Tess announces.
You start circling each other, moving clockwise as you study each other’s movements, looking for the right time to pounce. You kick up dust as you slide your feet. Your boot catches on something sticky, dried blood. You push the thought from your mind, concentrating on watching Joel. You observe his muscles flexing, his balance, the length of his strides and his footwork. You can tell he’s strong, but he’s slower. You’ll use that to your advantage. During these brief moments of sizing each other up you’ve kept your own strengths hidden. You copied his pace, circling him just as slowly with deliberately timed steps. You want your real fighting style to remain a surprise. You want this fight over quickly, a few strong punches from him and you’d be lights out. You know you can’t overpower him and keep him down for a 10 count, so the only way is to trick him into stepping over the white line.
The crowd is getting impatient, their jeering getting louder and more vulgar as they scream at him to pummel you. With no warning, no tell, he lunges at you and lands a right hook into your jaw, rattling your brain. You dodge his incoming blow, ducking under his arm and side stepping past him. So maybe he’s not so slow after all, that’s okay, you’ll just be faster. Your jaw is aching and you taste blood in your mouth. You spit on the floor and Joel smiles. Just one punch and you’re already dizzy. He closes the gap in one step, towering above you with a vicious gleam in his eye. He does a jab cross combo and you manage to block both. As he’s pulling his fist back you land a hook right into his ribs lightning fast, then quickly pull your punch back and step back into your fighting stance with your guard raised. He looks a little surprised. You actually snuck a blow in. The crowd cheers and his surprise turns to anger. It chills your blood and weakens your knees but you stand your ground. Furious, he attacks you in a brutal volley, jab, cross, hook, elbow. He’s pummeling you with hit after hit and you’re moving swiftly, weaving under his fists as you step backwards, leading him closer to the edge of the ring. Your heel touches the chalk. He throws a powerful cross but he’s late on the recoil so you grab his wrist, leaning into his momentum and pulling his arm, swinging him to the right. He takes a single step to correct his balance. A single step that’s out of the circle.
You drop his wrist as the crowd erupts in shouts of approval at the surprise and swearing as bets are lost. You turn on your heel, not even bothering to look at Joel as you march up to Tess.
“Well color me impressed. If you come back again you could probably make a lot more ration cards. Everyone likes an underdog ya know.” Spectators flock to her, passing up cigarettes, pills, bullets, and food, you even spot a piece of gum. After a minute of tallying she hands you a stack of ration cards. You stuff them in your jacket pocket and nod farewell. This should tide you over for a while, at least until you find another smuggling job. Tess seems okay but you hope you never have to come back here.
You rush out of the hideout and exit into the alleyway where you lean up against the wall and breathe in deeply, relishing the fresh cool night air. You close your eyes for a moment and relax your head back against the cool concrete, letting your body calm down after all the adrenaline.
A hand wraps around your throat, squeezing and cutting off your air. Gasping, your eyes flutter open and you stare wildly at the man in front of you. Joel. His face is flushed and his eyes are black. You choke out, “J-Joel, what-“ but he squeezes even tighter and your plea dies.
“Shut up bitch,” he snaps. Oh you made a big mistake. Now you understand what kind of man Joel is. You humiliated him when you won. You took his power. And he wants it back.
“How dare you trick me like that.”
You’re desperately shaking your head, unable to speak. He slams your head back into the wall. You feel your scalp scrap against the concrete and blood seep into your hair.
“You think you’re better than me, is that it? Huh?” With his other hand he grabs a fistful of your hair. “Huh? Answer me!” he shouts.
You shake your head desperately. He feels the blood on the back of your head now and slides his hand from your hair. Holding it up, he angles his hand to better see in the light from the streetlamp, admiring the sight of your blood on his fingertips. His other fingers are still pushing into your throat, bruising the skin underneath. You have to get out of here. Not knowing what else to do you kick him in the groin, hoping he’ll drop you or at least loosen his grip. It works and you wrench free. You run one, two steps before he catches you and slams you into the wall. You squeal. His hands pin your wrists against the cold wall by your sides and his body is pressed into yours, squishing you against the wall so tightly you can’t move. His chest is heaving and his breath is in your face as he looks down at you.
“Joel please,” you plead desperately.
“Oh now you have manners.” He scoffs. “Too late little girl,” he says darkly. You whine in desperation and his lethal gaze shift to one of greed. “Oh honey you’re giving me a new idea for how to punish you.” He smiles and you watch as lust clouds his gaze. You feel his cock twitch against your middle. Your eyes widen in terror and you gulp. His predator gaze deepens as he clocks your fear. He feeds off of it. He takes your wrists and pins them above your head with one large hand.
“Gotta show you some respect little girl. Put ya in your place.” He leans his hips into you, pushing you deeper into the hard wall as he grinds into you. With no warning he slaps you across your face. It stings as you feel tears forming in your eyes.
“That’s better. Cry for me girly. Think you can beat me, no, I’ll show who’s in control here.” His other hand other slips beneath the hem of your t-shirt and reaches up to grab at your breast. He gropes you roughly, his cold callous fingers kneading into you. He flicks your nipple and you cringe at the pain, but harden under his touch as he rubs it between his finger and thumb. He groans and his hips grind into you again, rutting up against you and pushing you roughly. You feel your skin grating against the rough concrete behind you. He kisses you sloppily, greedily making out with your unresponsive mouth as you try to turn away. He drops his hand from your breast and slides his hand around your neck again.
“I’m gonna let go and yer' gonna take off your pants. Got that little girl?” You spit in his face. He laughs like a mad man. “You’re a fighter. I said I liked ‘em feisty. You remembered, huh girly?”
Then he abruptly stops and he squeezes so tightly you see black spots. “But right now I need you to behave.” You nod vigorously.
“Good girl.” He releases his tight grip and drops your hands. You undo your pants and push them down with your underwear and are about to step out of them when he stops you. “Leave it.” It restricts your movement more, you can’t run.
“That’s it, good job girly. Now me.” He commands. You undo his belt with shaking fingers and tug his zipper down. You tentatively pause and he smacks your hip. “I didn’t stay stop,” he growls. You tug his pants and boxers down to his thighs and his cock springs free. He’s so big and angry looking that you start to cry.
“Fuckin’ weak.” He wraps a hand around the base of his cock and strokes himself slowly as you watch. The thumbs the tip of his cock where a bead of precum is leaking out. He raises he fingers to your mouth and slides his thumb over your lower lip roughly before pushing it inside your mouth.
“No biting.” His thumb glides over your teeth and he pushes further. Your tongue flicks against him instinctively and his cock twitches. “You like this girly? You a little slut?” With his thumb deep in your mouth you’re unable to answer but your eyes glare at him. He just smirks. He taps your jaw with his other fingers then brings them to your lips as you open your mouth wider. You suck on his fingers, saliva gathering on them. When he's satisfied, he pulls them out with a lewd wet noise. He pets your check once with the back of his hand. You feel the scratch of the dried blood as his split knucks skim across your face.
He reaches down between you and slides two fingers into you without hesitation. The stretch burns and your muscles clench in surprise. “Fuck, so tight.” He slides his fingers in and out, punishing your hole as you try to adjust. “We gotta stretch you out a bit if you’re gonna fit this big cock.” He pushes another finger in and you scream. He glares at you and silences your scream with his mouth. He bites your lower lip as he fucks you with his fingers. You taste blood as he pulls way.
After a few more thrusts he feels your body adjust and your slick starts to seep onto his hand. He laughs, “Not such a tough girl now huh?” Your face reddens in embarrassment as your body betrays you.
He slides his fingers out and slaps your wet pussy. “Just a little slut. Knew you wanted this cock.” He pushes his fingers through your folds, playing with you and gathering your slick. He slides his fist down his cock, spreading the wetness.
“Wanna see you cry on this cock.” With his fist wrapped around the base he guides himself and notches at your entrance then pushes all the way inside you, filling you up and splitting you open. You gasp at the stretch and struggle against him. He clicks his tongue. “None of that, stay still,” he grunts as he pulls out to the tip then slams back in to you. “Gotta take your punishment,” another hard dominating thrust.
“Gonna ruin your little pussy.” He’s hitting something deep inside you with each painstakingly hard thrust. You feel your body responding, heat pooling and your walls flutter around him. He pulls out halfway and pushes back in, setting a new shallow pace as he fucks you against the wall. It’s faster and more desperate. You see sweat forming on his brow. You think you could probably get out of his grip right now if you tried, he’s distracted and out of breath already. But for some reason you don’t. You stay still as he brutally rails you, your back arching against the wall causing you’re your shoulder blades to sting as the scrape the wall.
The sounds of skin slapping slick skin and groaning fill the narrow alley. The street light flickers and for the first time it dawns on you that anyone could walk by and see you. You shiver and try to push against Joel’s hold but he growls at you through gritted teeth. “I said stay still.”
He’s close, you can see it on his scrunched-up face, so you relax and decide to just let him finish. Your body is marked with purple fingerprints and red marks where he slapped you. The blood in your hair has dried. Maybe it was stupid to fight him, you think as he continues to pound you. He feels good inside you, you can’t deny that. You close your eyes and focus on that feeling now, your hips moving to grind into him. It building and building and you can’t stop it as you come on his cock with a cry. Your walls squeeze his cock and it’s enough to send him spilling into you. His muscles twitch and he presses his entire body up against you, flattening you with his full weight as he comes inside you with a groan. You feel the warm gush of his cum inside you as it spreads and fills you. He sighs and slides out with a lewd squelching sound.
“Hmmmm, hope you learned your lesson little girl.”
Your legs are shaking, cum trickling down your thighs. He steps back and releases his hold on your wrists. You slide down the wall and sit crumpled on the cold ground. He drags his cock against your check once before stuffing it back into his pants and fixing his belt. He smirks down at you, proud of his work. “See ya around,” he says before stalking off, leaving you sitting alone in the dirty alley, pants still around your ankles.
You look down and watch his seed seeping out of you. You gulp, feeling your sore throat ache from his chokehold. You swipe your fingers over your cheek, wiping away your tears cooling against the night air. Your fingers brush against your bloodied swollen lips from his crushing kiss and drift to your sides where you see red prints marking your skin. Your fingers slide lower and find the wetness on your thighs. Without thinking you draw your fingers up to your mouth and suck, tasting him. Hand in your mouth you snap back to reality and glance down the alley to make sure no one is looking. You scrambling up, hand against the wall in support. You hurriedly pull up your pants and rush out of the alley in humiliation.
#deaddovedecember2023#dead dove do not eat#dddne#dark fanfiction#joel miller fanfiction#dark!joel#dark!joel miller#dark!joel miller smut#dark!joel miller x reader#dark joel miller#dark!joel x reader#tlou fanfiction#joel miller#dark fic#non con#dark smut#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joel miller the last of us#the last of us fanfiction#fem!reader#tlou smut#mean!joel#violence#dom joel miller#joel x reader smut#joel tlou#joel miller imagine#f!reader#brat tamer!joel
162 notes
·
View notes
Text
idiots to lovers | regulus black
pairing: regulus black x reader
genre: angsty fluff, friends to lovers, confrontations, basically just the idiots to lovers trope oof, not proof read!
wc: 2k
originally posted on wattpad
"i think i can sort who's good for me for myself," i countered, turning to look at regulus with a bored expression.
"are you sure about that?" he asked. there was a distant sound of thunder but neither of us paid heed to it.
"are you implying that i can't take care of myself?" maybe that was a little bit out of pocket but i promise you he deserves it.
"does it seem like i am?"
"c'mon moony it's just a question," sirius groaned as james and lily entered the dorm.
"if it's just a question then why can't you ask her that yourself?" remus retorted, sitting up on his bed. it was clear that he was tired of sirius' nagging.
"because it's me," sirius answered as if it was the most obvious thing, getting onto his feet exaggeratedly. "let's not forget you're the one who shares prefect rounds with her."
"with who?" james asked, curiousity piqued.
"[name]," sirius, remus, and peter answered simultaneously. lily eyes widen in surprise, taking a seat on james' bed. what does a fifth year have anything to do with them?
"what does you being you have anything to do with you asking the question?" remus asked, staring pointedly at sirius.
"because. . ." the ebony haired boy trailed off, glancing at his friends for help. "because . . ." he repeated before sighing defeatedly. "i dunno! because i want to know if it's true and if it is what's she's doing him anyways!"
"who's him?" james asked cluelessly.
"regulus." all the other four presented in the room answered easily.
"what does [name] and regulus have to do with eachother?" the glasses clad boy followed up.
"that's what we're trying to find out," sirius replied, flailing his arms dramatically. "there's been rumors about the two 'dating' and i just- i've known that they've been friends since he was eleven and that he is head over heels for her but what does she want with him? you've all talked to her, she's too nice for a bloody death eater."
"have you thought that maybe she loves him and she wants him to love her back?" lily responded, putting her red hair up into a ponytail. "oh shoot, our rounds starts in ten," she cursed, staring at the clock on the opposite end of the boy's dorm room.
james and remus stood from their respective beds, checking for their wands before looking back at sirius who was pouting with wide puppy eyes; his last attempt at persuading them to ask the questions he needed the answers to.
"just ask her yourself pads," remus muttered, waltzing over to smack the back of the said boy's head.
after muttering a small ow, sirius focused his attention on lily who was disguising an amused smile. he stared at her wordlessly, intention clear in his gaze. lily kept up a neutral look only to then roll her eyes, giving in to his silent request. "fine, i'll do it."
•••
"hi [name]," lily greeted kindly. i smiled at her, masking my surprise as she waved me over. "remus asked to switch rounds, i hope you don't mind."
"oh it's alright," i waved it off before following up with a question, "is he well?"
"he's fine, just got roped into another one of james' plan," she replied, straightening her posture into a more serious one. one she specifically reserved for when she was viewed as the head girl. "you know how the marauders are."
in truth, i knew little about how the marauders are aside from regulus sharing details of how sirius talked about them and the occasional times i helped them hide from mcgonagall. i only nodded, following after lily as she took the first step for our round.
"so ... how's OWLs treating you?" the older girl asked light-heartedly, trying to make conversation as we went on.
"it's been alright, a bit stressful but it's to be expected. how's your NEWTs?" i asked in return, making our way down the stairs from the Great Hall.
"it's as hard as you can imagine it to be, i can barely catch a break," she let out. she then proceeded to complain about how there was way too many assignments and so little time. she went on and on and i nodded in agreement, listening to every word she was uttering. "and it really doesn't help having a boyfriend who's friends are as smart as he is."
"oh i feel you," i laughed. "they don't see the need to stay up all night and study because they already remember what they needed to right of the bat. it's the worst."
"right?!" lily exclaimed, turning to look at me with enthusiasm. "atleast remus and peter understand the stress of it. sirius and james just writes whatever comes into their mind onto their parchment and boom straight O's without even trying!"
"merlin, regulus is exactly like that. he barely takes his times with assignments and would never get anything less than an E while i spend hours on my work and get an A at best." i joined in, giving her my input on the things we could relate to.
"speaking of regulus. . ." lily dragged out, glad that it was a perfect segway to what she wanted to know. "are you two- you know? together?"
i looked at her timidly, mouth twisting into a sheepish smile, and with a nod of my head lily started grinning. "oh that's just adorable!" she squealed, all the while keeping an eye on the corridors as we talked. "i never thought you'd act on your feelings for him."
"what feelings?" i asked as we rounded hogwarts kitchen. "i didn't realize i liked him until he kissed me," i added, recalling the memory of that very kiss. i was lying and lily knew it. "i mean it!"
"oh you really mean it?" she repeated with a look of disbelief. not waiting for what i had to say, she quickly added, "so that time you learned about quidditch despite not having any interest in quidditch doesn't have anything to do with regulus?"
"no! . . . well yes . . . it's complicated," i mumbled. my cheeks growing warm as lily's eyes shined happily. "i just wanted to have something to talk to him about."
"and you did! it was so adorable!" at this point i was more than convinced that 'adorable' was lily's favorite word. "i remember it so clearly, he was so excited when you asked him if you could watch him at practise. i don't think i've ever seen puppy love until you two happened."
"oh and what you and james have isn't puppy love?" i asked, steering the conversation topic towards her love life instead. but lily was persistent, giving me a smile before answering.
"we're more like the enemies to lovers trope whilst you and regulus are idiots in love."
"and how exactly is me and reg idiots in love?" i asked. the pair of us passing the hufflepuff basement and down the toward the dungeons.
"from what i've heard of how you got together, it's as idiots in love as it comes."
"i just don't think he's good for you."
regulus, barty, rosier, and i had just regrouped from our own respective trips to hogsmeade. making our way up the hill towards the castle in a group of four as we recalled about the things we've done through out the day.
i had went out on a date; a date with whom i had no romantic interest in since the person who held my affections only thought of me as their best friend. it was stupid to try and get over someone i was madly in love with and yet, it didn't make me feel as helpless as realizing that nobody else could make me feel the way i feel for regulus.
"i think i can sort who's good for me for myself," i countered, turning to look at regulus with a bored expression.
"are you sure about that?" he asked. there was a distant sound of thunder but neither of us paid heed to it.
"are you implying that i can't take care of myself?" maybe that was a little bit out of pocket but i promise you he deserves it.
"does it seem like i am?" he replied easily. resulting in a groan from rosier —who was way too tired to be hearing us bicker about the same thing all over again.
"seriously reg?" i asked, staring at him. the thunder grew louder and this time we took a second to acknowledge it before going back to our . . . disagreement? argument? "do you expect me to be alone forever?"
"you wouldn't be alone if you're with me," he responded. we were both facing eachother now, standing in the middle of hogwarts lawn under the darkening sky.
it was supposed to be a sweet statement but i had long grew frustrated with his use of sweet talk. giving me false hope on things that would never happen.
"i would only be lonelier when i'm with you."
i took his expressions into account close enough to catch the brief flicker of surprise that crossed his features. regulus frowned, eyebrows furrowing when he stated, "you're mad at me aren't you."
"why are you mad at me?" i kept quiet, moving away to put distance between us. "are you listening to me?" he added, trailing after each of my steps.
"i am," i snapped. their was a pitter-patter on the surrounding windows followed by shrieks of surprised students running for shelter. i could barely register the rain bucketing down on us as i was too focused on the slytherin before me than anything else. "i'm just trying to see if you're listening to yourself."
there was an incredulous look on regulus face, offended by my words but he was quick to mask it. his dark curls were drenched when he swept them back, boring holes into me with unasked questions before he settled on, "what do you mean you'd be lonelier when you're with me?"
"i dunno reg," i muttered blearily, wiping a hand across my face. "maybe because you wouldn't love me the way i want to be loved?"
regulus stood stunned and i took that as a sign to turn on my heels again, heading towards the grand hall open doors. his hand caught my wrist before i'd gotten far, pulling me flush against him. i had barely a second to compartmentalize his actions up until he pinned his lips onto mine.
regulus wasted no time in pressing the inner of his palm against my cheek, holding me as gently as possible. my arms —as if it were muscle memory— reached up and wrapped themself around his neck. my heart raced as i took in the the smell of him, marveling at his closeness and how i could feel the warmth radiating from him despite the cool rain dripping on us. we pulled away.
the rain clouding our vision as we breathed heavily. wanting more, he leaned down and kisses me one more time, lingering as long as he could. his thumb circled around the apple of my cheek, caressing it as he took in deep breath.
"how could you?" he started, boring his grey eyes into mine. "how could you think i didn't love you that way?"
"you think that's idiots in love?" i asked. lily nodded in respond. "so you repeatedly turning down james even when you realized you had feelings for him just because you thought he was only doing it out of habit isn't idiots in love?"
"well that's not- i don't want to talk about this anymore."
—from bee: happy lunar new years to those who celebrate it!!! notes/ask/feedbacks are always greatly appreciated!!
#regulus black x reader#regulus black x you#regulus black x yn#regulus black fanfiction#regulus black fluff#regulus black angst#regulus black x female reader#regulus black scenarios#regulus black imagines#🧳: my writing
679 notes
·
View notes
Text
babies
Thinking about an AU where the Mysterious Benedict Society gets de-aged. Not for forever, but for a week or two. A world where these kids get to be loved and feel loved in times they maybe never got to, and just how special that would be.
I mean, this is a world where a machine is capable of sweeping away someone's mind and leaving them a stranger in their own heads for years at a time. It's a world with duskwort, which can knock out a village with nary a handful in the campfire smoke. It's not too strange or extravagant to imagine a realm where there's some machine or mechanism that can wipe away someone's years and leave behind someone not yet grown.
Think about it. Kate- who gets shrunk until she's five or six, who is a vibrant ball of energy and is constantly climbing onto shelves and wriggling into unexpected corners for impromptu games of hide and seek. Reynie and Sticky chase her around the backyard and aren't sure if they should be offended or not that she's fast enough to keep them out of breath and struggling to keep up. Constance looks at her- this insurmountable girl she knows folded into somebody else, someone small, and can't quite figure it out how to interact with her, how to coincide them into the same person. Kate just takes her small pudgy hand in hers and drags her around the garden to look at bugs, laughing, and Constance finds it's not so different after all.
"Kate," Rhonda says, "Please, please come down from the ceiling fan."
Kate, slowly rotating and so happy about it, laughs madly. "Never!" she cries, curling around the big wooden panel and wheezing with joy.
A little dazed, Number Two murmurs, "How did she manage to bring the ladder to the living room? We store it in the basement!"
Moocho whistles guiltily and walks away.
(I'm thinking of Kate being young, before the burden of being left behind truly settles on her shoulders. Who looks up at Milligan and cries out, "Daddy!" with her whole tiny chest, face planting into his knees and laughing uproariously like it's the funniest thing in the world. I wonder if he cries, this man who lived outside of himself for nearly a decade; a Kate who's five or six is still a Kate he never got to hold.)
(Kate wipes away tears with her pudgy fingers, and tickles him until he laughs.)
If Sticky shrinks, he becomes a little boy who hasn't yet learned the anxieties of the stage lights. He's a little shy, maybe, and quiet. (He was the sort of kid who didn't talk at all for three years and then burst out into full sentences.) Regardless, he smiles more easily than any iteration of the boy they've ever known. Reynie holds him on his lap and they read books together, page after page after page, and wonders how anyone could make this small version of his friend feel unwanted. Kate carries him on her shoulders and races around the backyard with him clinging to her back like a tiny koala. Constance accidentally makes him cry, too blunt and awkward and unused to holding hands smaller than her own. They still get to be friends, though, after the learning curve. She just makes sure to be more gentle.
Sticky is adorable, by the way. He's iddy biddy and he's got round little cheeks and everyone's piling SO much affection on him. "You're so cute!" Kate enthuses, and cuddles him like a stuffed animal as he flails.
Constance, watching this, crosses her arms and turns up her nose. "I'm cute," she declares, blustering. Mr. Benedict pats her head, fond, and she grumbles but doesn't pull away.
(I'm thinking of the Washingtons, picking up this version of their kid, and it feels like being deposited into the past. It must hurt to see someone so precious, and know that he'll go through so much, and in so many ways it will be their fault. Sticky curls up between them on their bed that night, and he's little, he's so small, and they hold each other's hands over his tiny head, and they whisper promises to themselves that they're going to be better, that their own Sticky will keep growing up and growing older and he'll always, always know that he's wanted.)
Reynie stumbles into being ungrown, and he's three or maybe four. He's got BIG expressive eyes and he's lived in an orphanage his entire life. Consequently, he hasn't been out much and absolutely nobody is familiar, leading to him spending the first few hours crying and hiding before they finally manage to coax him out with the cat the Perumals had gotten him. (They bought it when they had moved out of Benedicts' and into the house next door, because Number Two is allergic.) The cat gets lugged around by its armpits for the rest of the day, almost as tall as Reynie is, and purrs like a tiny motor boat the whole time. Number Two takes two Benadryl and doesn't complain.
Kate is pleased to find that Reynie is much more enthusiastic about being thrown into the air or being turned upside down as a toddler than he is as a teenager, and takes full advantage of it the moment they're able to coax him into letting go of Moby Dick the Great White Cat. Sticky follows Reynie around and reads him books and lets him try on his glasses, even though they're too big and fall off his nose. Constance is determined to be his favourite, and piles him with snacks and red faced hugs and plays games with him and indulges his subpar poetry. Reynie's just happy she wants to be friends. He's never really had a friend before.
(Miss Perumal gets reintroduced to her son and it's like an ache reborn in her chest. She never knew her kid this young, was never able to hold him close to her chest and have him nap on her shoulder as she walks up and down the hallway. Reynie, hardly grown and already a little lonely, takes her face in his small hands and whispers, "You picked me?" like it's almost too good to be true.
"Yes," she whispers back, and presses a kiss to his brow, to his cheek, to his nose. "Oh, yes, lovely one. Always.")
Constance, when she gets de-aged, becomes an infant. She's tiny, only a few pounds, her cheeks still red and ruddy and hair hardly a blonde wisp on her head. Her pinkies aren't longer than a nickel, and her toes no bigger than a bean. Everyone takes turns holding her, and Milligan and the Washingtons have to teach everyone how to support her properly in their inexperienced arms. Constance Contraire, for once, is not contrary at all and sleeps through everything quite soundly.
She wakes up, occasionally, and they all hold little contests to see who gets to feed her the bottle. Rhonda's wins one and Constance flails until she can hook her fingers around one of her braids and settles again, content. Number Two, who is always awake anyways, holds her when Constance starts wailing at night and has a miniature staring contest with her tiny younger sister, wiping away milk and cooing about homemade onesies. Everyone tries to avoid diaper duty. Nobody gets out of it.
"I think that Constance would like to climb a tree," Kate says, eyes sparkling, terrifyingly sincere and holding a baby carrier. Milligan manages to dissuade her, barely.
Sticky, on his turn to hold baby Constance, looks bewildered the whole time. "It's crazy how you're going to grow up and become a whole entire person," he whispers to her when nobody's looking. Constance throws up on his shoulder. Oddly enough, it soothes him.
At some point she ends up in Reynie's arms and he spends the whole time thinking very hard about how much he loves her, how special and wonderful she is, how lucky he's been to have her as a friend. He's not sure how her big brain works, this small. Maybe she can hear him, can understand it, but if she does she gives no sign. She falls asleep more quickly on his shoulder than anyone else, though, and he's secretly pleased.
Nicholas Benedict, several years away from since he's had to worry about falling asleep upon strong emotion, finds himself quite overcome upon cradling her tiny frame in his arms for the first time. He sits down rather abruptly on the couch, tears springing to his eyes, and smiles down at her guileless eyes. "Hello, my dear," he says, soft and gentle and sure, and presses his lips to her tiny palm.
(Constance, who is so small as to be all instincts and wonder, feels loved all the way through.)
#i haven't gotten to hold a lil baby in way too long and i'm making it everybody's problem#tmbs#the mysterious benedict society#ooohhhhh kiddos#my writing#reynie muldoon#kate wetherall#constance contraire#sticky washington
44 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Night of Song and Laughter (Part 3)
My game is currently fucked up, so I have to reinstall and pray my saves will work... If not... Well, I'll have to charm Astarion again - and indulge in more writing I guess.
Have part 3 of Astarion and Tav trying to have a fun night out in town.
Lots of fluff and annoyed Astarion in this one, poor little puppy. You can read below the cut or on AO3! Song choice for this one: Buntes Volk - Faun, Michael Rhein
Rating: Explicit
Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Tav (You)
(Gif is from here!)
You shook your head once to clear your thoughts, Astarion had caught you by surprise – quite frankly he often did. You grabbed the elf’s hand and did as he told you.
You turned around the corner and there it was: Maeve’s. Warm light shone beyond the big open front door and you could already hear the crowd inside clapping, chattering and the notes of a song drifting through the night. The sign above the door was so worn out you could barely decipher it, but really no one needed it anyway, this tavern was famous in all of Baldur’s Gate.
The two of you made your way over the cobblestone road and just before you wanted to enter a man got hurled out by his shirt collar. You quickly stepped out of his way, dodging his flailing arms. Astarion, who was standing directly in the way of the stumbling fool quickly twirled sideways, avoiding getting hit by a hair’s width. “Excuse me”, Astarion chirped happily “I didn’t mean to hinder you on your way out.” The man stumbled a few feet more and faceplanted in the middle on the round – obviously very drunk.
You watched for a second how he tried to get up again and how Astarion patted off some invisible dirt looking displeased even though he hadn’t been touched. Then you turned and saw who had thrown out the drunkard – a familiar face.
“By the gods, I thought I’d never see you here again, thought you finally made it out of this hell hole”, the tall, broad-shouldered man said with an easy smile that neither matched his actions just yet nor his rather threatening appearance. Of course, you knew him – this was Don, the bouncer of this place. Over the years you had seen him throw out lots of brawlers, drunkards – and sometimes even the worst kind of bards. Although that had been more for their protection, the crowd here could really get quite worked up. Befriending him had also helped you and your friends to not get thrown out during several occasions.
Astarion had stepped up behind you and had laid his hands on your shoulders: “Oh not to worry, I dragged her back to this hell hole of a city – she just couldn’t live without it.” You could practically hear the shit-eating grin in his voice.
“And you brought a boyfriend, oh Tav, what ever have you been up to? Eodin will not like that”, Don said and crossed his massive tattooed arms over his broad chest and laughed heartily. You blushed softly and pressed your lips into a thin line. You really did not enjoy that even the bouncer here seemingly new about Eodin’s ambitions towards you.
You cleared your throat and said: “Don, this is Astarion, I met him while I was away, he’s my…” “Lover!”, Astarion interrupted immediately and pressed a kiss on your cheek from behind and squeezing your shoulders “I am indeed her lover, more even, her soulmate so to speak. And we’re inseparable, aren’t we, my heart? You can tell this Eodin guy.” Astarion happily blabbered on and let his hands slowly travel down your arm. And while you could feel and hear that he was teasing you with his possessiveness, you heard the bite in his last sentence. He might have shrugged it off as laughable that there could be some competition around tonight but it seemingly affected him more than he was ready to admit.
Don just laughed again and looked at your pale companion: “Oh, you can tell him that yourself, he’s already here tonight. And so are the others, Tav. They’ve been worried about you, they’ll be happy to see you in one piece.”
Stepping out Astarion’s possessive hold for just a moment, you grabbed the big man’s elbows, he did the same, and smiled at him reassuringly. “Thank you, Don, it’s so good to see you.” Don smiled warmly at you, then signed for you to get on in. You turned around to Astarion who seemed surprisingly tense. A stark contrast to his usual languid and dandy manner. So you made to close the distance between the two of you, grab his hand and pressing a soft kiss on his lips: “Come on, love, let me introduce you to my friends.” The pale elf sighed at the kiss and your words. “You can keep your hands on me if it assures you that there is only you for me”, you whispered softly to him and grinned. “Don’t expect me not to”, Astarion whispered back and stole another quick kiss. Then he motioned you to go on and let his hand linger on the small of your back.
“Don’t let them eat your boyfriend’s skinny ass right up”, Don shouted after the two of you and threw his head back in laughter again. You chuckled when you saw Astarion’s disgusted reaction and moved your hand to pinch his butt. “I knew why I kept from this part of town”, the vampire sighed dramatically “only brutes, drunkards and charlatans.” You slapped him on his arm: “And that coming from you!” You scolded him but keep moving.
There was already a pretty big crowd assembled. The tavern was quite big – although it was only dimly and warmly lit - and seemed even more so as most tables and seats were moved to the walls to allow for more room in the middle where a stage is erected. A single bard was performing. He seemed quite decent, at least he hadn’t been booted off stage yet. But the crowd was still far from ecstatic. Loud talking and laughing filled the room over the music. Mugs and bottles were being toasted and a not unpleasant smell of pipe smoke, alcohol and some kind of stew filled the big room.
You looked at Astarion who took the room in silently, he let his eyes wonder over the few people dancing in front of the stage, the bard, the people sitting and drinking everywhere around the room and the big bar at the far end of the building. You could tell he didn’t feel quite comfortable and saw that his nostrils flared slightly. “Everything okay?”, you asked him softly and touched his side. The vampire kept watching over the room: “It’s… fine. I am just not used to such big crowds anymore.” He turned to look at you: “Don’t worry about me. I’m good as long as you’re here with me and don’t abandon me for some substandard old fling of yours.” “You’re not going to let that topic go, are you?” “Not for the moment, my love, not until anyone knows you’re mine”, he grinned broadly, shortly showing his fangs and then softly pushed you with the hand still on your back. “Now, come on, show me where the regulars hang out”, he said and winked at you. You could tell he was still a tad uncomfortable but he tried his best to push through it. Grabbing his hand again, you moved through the crowd. You knew exactly the right place. Leading him to the back of the room there was a small staircase one could’ve easily overlooked. A dwarf inconspicuously stood right in front of it. To someone not paying attention it seemed like he was just standing there rather awkwardly, maybe waiting for his friends or his date. But you knew he was another bouncer that made sure not just anyone went up the stairs and to the gallery upstairs – and of course you knew him as well. You walked right over to him: “Hey, Kirin!” The dwarf looked up at you and the slightest smile turned up the corners of his mouth and slightly softened his grim expression he’d worn before. “Gods, Tav! Look at ye! Y’look good girl, come ‘ere!” Without any warning he drew you in for a tight hug that pressed all air out of your lungs. “Thought ye kicked the bucket for good or somethin’!” He released you from his bear hug but offered a strong pat on your back that almost made you topple over. He laughed heartily: “’Tis so good to see ye again, girl. Things have been quite wild roun’ here,ye know.” The dwarf started rambling on about how the crowds had grown more violent lately, almost one big brawl every other night. Astarion softly cleared his throat in hopes of interrupting the dwarf’s tales. “Excuse ye, pretty boy, I am talking ‘ere an’ gallery’s only open for regulars”, Kirin started, turning to the elf and raising his chin. “Oh uhm”, you started “the pretty boy is with me, Kirin, he’s my…” Astarion gave you a huge sideeye “boyfriend. And I wanted him Maeve’s tonight.” The dwarf looked at you quite confused. “Where did ye find yerself such a poser? By the looks of himself, he coulda been one of the city’s noblemen. But ones of those never come ‘round here, at least they haven’t tried for a long time”, Kirin mocked und laughed roaringly. Astarion just raised an eyebrow and turned to look at his perfectly manicured fingers, proving Kirin’s point. You just blinked, not sure what to make of this absurd situation.
“Alright, ye elves are strange fellows. I just thought some time, ye would come around to Eodin, lass. But like to like an’ such, I ‘ssume.” Astarion rolled his eyes at Eodin being mentioned again. You chuckled and scratched the back of your head: “Yeah no, Kirin, Eodin… Just no.” “Suit yerself, lass, but ye know, he’s here tonight, so little heads up for ye and yer lover. Now, wouldn’ to keep ye any longer, go right ahead!” The dwarf stepped aside and made room for the two of you. This time Astarion pushed you on quite eagerly, trying to get away from the annoying dwarf. You let him and wave thanks to Kirin.
“Be nice to me girl, elf. Ye better treat ‘er right!”, he shouted after you. Astarion rolled his eyes again and kept pushing you up the stairs. You just laughed at his annoyance. It was nice to have him on the receiving end of the banter for once.
“If one more person mentions this Eodin guy, I swear, I am going to rip their damned throat out”, the vampire grumbled. You chuckled at his threat and stopped two steps ahead of him which made you to be eyelevel with him. “Please don’t, Astarion, there’s really no need to be jealous.” You took his face in both your hands and looked him straight in the eye: “There’s no one like you, Astarion, in the whole world and there will never be someone other than you for me.” You saw how his gaze and features softened at your words, his ruby eyes suddenly all big and glowy.
“I love you, Astarion, and you’ll have me as long as you want me”, you assured him, then kissed him and hugged him. He hugged you back and nuzzled his nose against the soft skin of your neck. His lips caressed your throat softly, his fangs ever so slightly touching your skin. “And I love you, my beautiful darling.” He lifted you slightly and made to carry you up the rest of the stairs. “But if this dwarf calls me pretty boy one more damn time, I am going to push him over.” You just giggle and let yourself be carried up the last stairs to the gallery.
#astarion#astarion x tav#baldurs gate#baldurs gate 3#baldur's gate 3#baldur's gate iii#astarion x reader#astarion x mc#baldurs gate astarion#astarion x oc#astarion x you#fanfic#fanfiction#astarion ancunin#bg3 spoilers#astarion is so cute when he's annoyed#also when he's jealous#a night of song and laughter
265 notes
·
View notes
Text
Strawberry Isagi (Blue Lock)
Summary: Bachira tickles Isagi in his own playful, Bachira way. That's pretty much it. 😊
A/N: So cards on the table - last year I watched and fell head over heels in love with Blue Lock alongside my friend @giggly-squiggily! I've been writing fics for it on my own and finally decided to go public with it this year! And OMG do I ship Bachisagi SO MUCH! 😍😍😍 This particular fic is more platonic than romantic, but it could be read either way. Enjoy! 💖
Word Count: 928
~~~
There was no way out of Blue Lock unless you quit or were disqualified. Everyone knew that; it had been cemented into their minds on day one.
Right now, however, Isagi was really, really wishing he had somewhere to hide.
“Bachira!” he cried, wriggling uselessly around on his sleeping mat, kicking the covers every which way and generally making an embarrassment of himself. “Dohon’t!”
“Uh-oh. Are we a little ticklish, Isagi?” the smaller boy giggled, gently wiggling his fingers into Isagi’s sides, forcing muffled chuckles past his lips.
“Wahahait! Bahachira!”
Isagi tried to roll over, but Bachira was straddling his lower back, keeping him pinned in place face down on his bedroll so that all he could do was flail and kick and sputter out embarrassed giggles as his teammate explored this new discovery. And if he knew Bachira, he wouldn’t be satisfied with simply learning he was ticklish; no, he wouldn’t stop until he’d covered every last inch of him, finding his worst spots for future reference, and that was why Isagi was so desperate to get away. It was bad enough he was so stupidly ticklish, but to have someone like Bachira constantly poking and jabbing at him when it was least convenient? The thought only made him kick even more.
“My, you’re a squirmy one, aren’t you?” Bachira switched tactics to begin pinching his ribs from the bottom up, taking the time to make sure each round of pressure did the most tickly damage it could.
Isagi squealed, frantically reaching for his pillow so he could muffle himself. “Bahahahachira! Cuhuhuhut it out alreheheheady!”
Somewhere nearby, he heard a few of his other teammates chuckle at the scene. Isagi flushed bright red. That was the other reason he wanted to be able to hide – having everyone on the team know about this weakness of his was humiliating. He was here to become the best striker in the world; how could he uphold that image when he was helpless like this?
It wasn’t like he’d been the only one tickled on Team Z; Bachira had made his rounds with pretty much everyone at this point. But still!
Speaking of, the smaller player had now moved up to his armpits, trying to wiggle his way in. “Aww, don’t fight me, Isagi. I just want to hear you laugh!”
“I ahahaham lahahaughing!” Isagi whined, trying to buck his hips upward and deter his friend.
Bachira was immovable, however, and quickly changed tactics again. He went back to digging into Isagi’s side, which was a guaranteed way to get the brunette to try and physically stop him, which left his armpits open, which meant…
“Gotcha!” Bachira declared gleefully, diving his fingers into the opened up spaces, grinning at the shriek that flew past Isagi’s lips. “Ooh, good spot? Does it tickle here, Isagi? Hmm? Well – I’m waiting for an answer~”
Isagi was going to – well, he couldn’t quite bring himself to think he’d kill Bachira, but he was certainly going to get him back for this.
“Yehehehehes, it tihihihihickles there! Wohohohohould you stahahahahap it?! Please!”
“Not yet~ I wanna see where else I can make you laugh.” At that moment Bachira seemed to hit a particularly sensitive spot, as Isagi shrieked into his pillow once more and brought his legs up to try and kick at him, one foot landing successfully on his teammate’s back for a brief moment.
But then Bachira hummed with renewed interest, and Isagi knew he was done for. “Nohoho! Wait, nohohohoho!”
“Oh? Do your feet want to play, too? They must be tired from all that running today,” Bachira teased, moving so fast the poor brunette had no chance of getting away or stopping him. In the next moment his ankles had been straddled and his bare feet were being tickled mercilessly, sending him into bouts of laughter that were much louder than anything he’d let fly before. Bachira sounded far too pleased with himself. “Ooh, I think this is a really good spot!”
“GAHAHAHAHAHAHA BAHAHAHAHACHIRA, DOHOHOHOHON’T!!” Isagi screamed, caught between wanting to muffle his cries and wanting to beg for mercy, trying to twist onto his side but not having the strength for it. He settled on slapping his hand on the ground in the universal tap-out gesture. “PLEHEHEHEHEASE STAHAHAHAHAP!! ANYWHEHEHEHEHERE BUT THEHEHEHERE!!”
“Anywhere?”
“YEHEHEHEHEHES!!”
“All right, then…” Bachira left his feet alone, allowing Isagi a momentary sigh of relief before he was flipped onto his back and straddled again, this time with wiggling fingers descending on his open belly, slipping under his sweatshirt to get at the sensitive bare skin.
Isagi squeaked and burst into giggles that flowed freely now that he had no way to hide his face or muffle his sounds. His hands flew down to grasp Bachira’s wrists, but the beaming smile and playful gleam in his friend’s eyes stopped him from actually trying to push him away. Why was that?
“Look how red you are. You’re like a strawberry! How cute~” Bachira chuckled, leaning down so they were nose-to-nose. “I could just eat you up, Isagi~”
The brunette’s eyes widened at the statement, feeling himself blush even harder now. Was it getting hot in here?!
“Get a room,” Chigiri mocked playfully from somewhere nearby, and that sealed Isagi’s fate in his own mind. He resigned himself to giggling and squirming until Bachira was good and done, and if it was obvious how he felt about him now, so be it. He was going to be the best athlete in the world! He could take a little more tickling!
Probably…
#fanfiction#tickle fic#blue lock#isagi yoichi#bachira meguru#bachisagi#fluff#playful#tickling#ticklish#tickle
74 notes
·
View notes
Text
7x05 spec
NSFW
“Are you okay?”
The question catches him off guard. Tommy’s sat on one of his bar stools when Buck reaches the bottom of the stairs in his loft, looking at him with gentle eyes.
“Sorry?”
“It’s just you seem a bit- off. Shaken,” Tommy says after a second, pulling himself up from the stool to rest against the table, still consciously giving Buck space. It doesn’t feel right - Buck doesn’t want the space - so he steps a little closer to Tommy and it feels like a tether between them. “Something happen on shift?”
Buck pauses for a second. Nothing really happened. No one was hurt, it was nothing more than Buck is used to on calls, but- for some reason he can’t quite process, he can’t get it out of his head-
The patient’s hand flailing wildly, panicked shouts from behind them.
Pulling the guy’s tense hand away from him, trying to hold it firm so they can get some sort of reading.
The guy’s hand, instead, moving towards Buck’s own throat before he can even begin to process the movement-
Buck huffs out a laugh, moving past Tommy towards the fridge- his mouth is suddenly really dry.
“Oh- nah, not really,” he replies. “Weird ass call, though. Some life coach doing a talk about being your own boss, or something, ends up stood on the stage, completely out of control, slapping himself.”
Tommy’s eyebrows quirk up. It’s not cute.
“Hen said something about connection between brain and limb movement. We had to strap him down to the gurney just to get him out of there.”
Tommy lets out a little laugh, looking down for a second before he rounds the table, coming closer to where Buck’s completely forgotten what he came to the fridge for. “How do you always manage to get the weirdest calls?”
“I swear it’s some sort of jinx, I don’t know,” Buck replies, grinning.
“But nobody was hurt or anything?” Tommy asks.
“No, all good. Just took us a while to get out of there,” Buck replies. Tommy’s still looking at him though, an endearing furrow to his brow in a way that’s confusingly similar to Eddie.
“So what’s got you acting all skittish, then?”
Buck feels it when he starts to blush. God, he really is a fourteen year old girl, where did his game go?
“Nothing! Really, just,” he trails off for a second. Tommy’s closer now and Buck’s sort of forgotten how to speak. “The guy- Eddie and I went over to try and help him, but he starts choking himself. And I’m just pulling at his hand, trying to keep him still and he starts choking- me.”
To his credit, Tommy doesn’t actually react at first. The furrow of his eyebrows smooths over and Buck could swear his eyes darken a fraction but he doesn’t move. His eyes flicker down to Buck’s neck for a moment, and Buck feels like he should be fanning himself.
“You okay?” Tommy asks after a second, meeting Buck’s eyes again. “He didn’t hurt you?”
Buck has to clear his throat before he speaks. God. “N-no. All good, he, uh- he was only there for a second.”
“Good,” Tommy replies.
“It just,” Buck stutters out, feeling like he’s supposed to clarify further. “Stuck. In my mind.”
There’s a flash of something in Tommy’s eyes.
“Yeah?” He takes a step closer and they’re basically touching now. “Back up a sec.”
Buck shuffles his feet back and suddenly his back is meeting the cold metal of the fridge, one of his magnets digging into the small of his back. Tommy’s so close Buck can smell the cedarwood aftershave he uses and it’s driving him a little bit insane, actually.
“Just wanna try something,” Tommy whispers then and Buck can practically feel his lips move from how close they are to Buck’s.
He’s definitely not breathing.
Distantly, he’s aware of fingers on his arm. Soft, gentle. Then they move up to his elbow. His shoulder.
Tommy’s eyes don’t leave Buck’s as his hand comes to rest, palm almost flat, on the side of his throat.
“Just-“ Tommy whispers, all gravelly and deep. His hand doesn’t move, but his thumb presses just so on the underside of Buck’s chin, pushing it up slightly.
They never break eye contact.
“There,” he says, when Buck’s tilted his head back enough that his throat is exposed.
Tommy pauses then, thumb still on Buck’s chin, his palm a welcome weight against Buck’s neck. Neither of them say anything, but there’s a question in Tommy’s eyes.
“Yeah,” Buck whispers, breathless, and-
Buck’s brain short circuits.
Because after Buck speaks, Tommy’s thumb trails from Buck’s chin, slowly, to the other side of his throat. His palm moves so that it’s covering Buck’s neck, left to right, adam’s apple fitting squarely in the space between Tommy’s thumb and first finger.
Buck’s pinned, the entire front of his neck covered in the warm, calloused skin of Tommy’s hand.
There’s little force to it. Tommy’s not restricting anything, it’s just weight, pressure. He’s just keeping Buck there.
He knows if he tried to move away the pressure would be gone instantly, no questions asked.
But Buck doesn’t want that.
Buck lets out a stuttered breath, a little sound coming out with it and the way Tommy’s lips quirk into a tiny little grin is somehow the hottest thing Buck’s ever seen. He’s obsessed.
“Knew it,” Tommy mutters next. “Dark horse, you are, Buckley.”
Tommy’s hand starts to move just slightly and before he can even process it, Buck grabs his wrist, keeping it just where it is.
“You, uh,” Buck breathes. “You gonna do something about it, Kinard?”
Tommy’s eyes go dark again.
The next thing Buck feels is harsh stubble against his face and soft lips against his, and then his brain just about checks out.
49 notes
·
View notes
Text
• Splash War •
Boyfriend!mason mount x reader
warnings: Fluff
̍̊˙· 𓆝.° 。˚𓆛˚。 °.𓆞 ·˙‧̍̊
the hotel was strangely quiet when you and Stacey arrived back, the two of you had taken the kids out for the day while Mason and the rest of the team trained for their upcoming match against the USA. It was pushing bedtime for the two children as the four of you got out of the car, and three year old Poppy was utterly drained the heat and exhaustion from the day hitting her all at once.
"Aunty Y/n" she whined stopping in her tracks and tugging at your hand, her mom had already gone ahead with her older brother as the whole way home the young boy had been complaining about needing the toilet. So you volunteered to dawdle behind with Poppy. "whats wrong pops?" you asked sweetly turning round to see her puppy eyes staring up at you,her little arms raised and hands grabbing at the air. "mmh sleepy"
You smiled down at her. Her flushed cheeks, puppy eyes and pig tails cutting right through and tugging at your heart strings. "come here dot" you mumbled kneeling slightly and lifting her up resting her on your hip. Poppy immediately snuggling into you, her head resting in the crook of your neck. You and Mason had been together for three months when Poppy was born, so you'd watched her grow up and loved her just as much as Mason did.
When you walked through the recpetion you heard a voice call out, you turned around and saw Declan Rice coming over a big grin on his face. "hey müller man" you teased as he got beside you, he rolled his eyes before chuckling. "Where you headin’ to?" He asked smiling down at the girl on your hip, tickling her gently, "Well she's going to bed, and I'm going to find Mase. Have you seen him ‘round?"
"I have not, I'm assuming he's up in his room but i could be wrong…I'll see you around I've got a massage in five" Declan said as he looked down at his watch.
"oh what a hard life you live" you joked as he started walking backwards down the hall, he sent you another smile before saying goodbye and slipping away, You carried on your way up to Stacey's room.
̍̊˙· 𓆝.° 。˚𓆛˚。 °.𓆞 ·˙‧̍̊
"As much as i love Harley and Pops, them kids aint half tireing" You said into the room as the hotel door closed behind you. After what Declan had said you had just assumed Mason would be in the room probably in bed watching a film. But when you rounded the corner he was no where to be seen. You felt a little silly for basically talking to yourself now, but you were more curious as to where your boyfriend had gone off to. On the bed was a little note, which after you dropped your bag down onto the chair in the corner, you picked up and read.
I'm down by the pool, come down when your back. Love you mase xx
You smiled down at the note and decided the night was still fairly young and still incredibly warm so a little dip in the pool would probably would be just the thing. So you grabbed a Bikini and a cute cover up to wrap round yourself.
Before you left the room you remembered you could see the pool from your little balcony. So you stepped outside and tried to spot where mason was, when you peered over the railing you could see him swimming around all by himself. You stood there for a moment and just watched him float around peacefully, a small chuckle leaving your lips when he started trying to do handstands his legs flailing in the air. That was when you decided to head down.
Outside the sun was setting but the thick Qatar heat still remained, You dropped your towel and cover up on a chair beside where Masons was. He was still underwater when you came around and sat down on the edge of the pool. He jumped slightly as he came up and saw you there but he quickly recovered and swam over to you with a smile. "Hi" he said sweetly as he stopped between your legs his wet hands coming up and resting on your hips. "hi" you smiled your own hands resting on his toned shoulders.
"How was your day?" He asked looking up from the water his thumbs rubbing little circles on your waist. You gave him a brief run down of how your day had gone, telling him all about the different shops you'd all been in and the cute restaurant you had gone to for dinner, even gushing about how cute Poppy was when she was tired. which he was more than familiar with but he still listened to everything you said so intently it was as if he'd never heard it before. And then when you'd finished he said "I'm starting to think Pops likes you more than me"
"I mean...who doesn't like me more than you" you teased grinning cheekily at him, Mason frowned playfully and pinched your sides making you laugh. you wriggled on the edge of the pool trying to swat his hands away which only egged mason on more his pinches turning to tickles. Making you wriggle even more trying to get away from his grasp. Which lead to you accidently slipping into the pool.
You bobbed back to the top and drew in a breath as you wiped the water away from your eyes and pushed back you hair, while Mason was beside himself laughing. "Your an ass" you groaned pushing you arms forward and splashing him. Starting a splash war, both you and Mason darting round the pool trying to dodge the others attacks your Laughter filling the little courtyard.
After a minute or two Mason manged to get behind you and send a huge wave hurtling over your head, and when you turned around after just wiping the water from your eyes he sent another splash directly into your face. So forceful you stumbled back slightly eyes stinging from the water. "that was mean mase"
"I'm sorry" Mason stuttered out through his laughter reaching out under the water to grab your hand and pull you closer to him, one hand wrapping round your waist to hold you flush against him while the other came up and he used his thumb to wipe the water droplets from your face. You smiled having him so close, your arms tightly wrapping round him. His hand settled on the side of your face once the droplets were gone, cupping your cheek. You subconsciously leant into the warmth of his touch, placing a sweet slow kiss on his lips.
You pulled away, leaving your faces still close enough you were basically sharing each breath, big cheesy grins on your faces. Your nails ran lines up and down Masons back under the water and the two of you just enjoyed the small moment of just being alone together. Which hadn't happened in the last couple weeks since everywhere the two of you went there was a teammate or there was games to play and training to go to. Mason leant in and pecked your lips over and over again, letting you know he'd been missing your touch just as much as you had been his.
But suddenly some yells came from behind you "no simps in the pool" was yelled three times from three different voices, before three men came hurtling into the pool. You and Mason both looked away from the splashes turning your heads and squeezing your eyes shut. When you both looked round your grips on eachother still there but looser you saw Belingham, Rice and Saka all coming up laughing.
"I hate all of you" Mason grummbled.
• • •
#football#footballer#footballer fic#footballer imagine#fanfic#mason mount#declan rice#bukayo saka#jude bellingham#mason mount fluff#mason mount fic#mason mount fanfic#fluff imagine#qatar 2022#world cup 2022#imagine#reader x mason mount
569 notes
·
View notes
Text
🍓🍓
this is honestly kinda random but my part two of the @thefreakandthehair summer fic challenge is done!!! so pretend it’s summer and not halloween, these boys r bring goofy all year round!
prompt: picking berries | cw: none | rated: G | part 2/2 | tags: disaster gays steve& eddie. besties robin & steve. jeff is an angel.
read part 1 here!
-
‘rob? um. is it gay to take your male friend berry picking’ steve asks while he’s pushing the full returns kart over to the romance section. he feels his eyebrows scrunch as he tries to read the labels on the tapes.
‘uh’ comes robins faint reply from where she’s slumped on the counter.. not helpful.
‘if uh. what if he really likes strawberries. like so so much.’ steve asks, focusing on trying to read the tapes even harder as he feels his neck get warm the longer he hears no reply.
‘no right? no, i don’t think so. it’s like friendly bonding. totally wholesome.’ steve gives up on the tapes. coming around to stare at robin across the counter. he gnaws on his cuticle and stares at her eyeballs so hard he goes cross eyed.
‘what the fuck’ robin whispers ‘it’s 9 in the morning’
‘robinnnnn’ steve whines because she not helping and he needs her to help, like so much, like right now.
‘ok ok! ask me again.’ she demands, finally looking alive and like she’ll actually fulfil her best friend duties like he needs.
steve takes a deep breath. ‘is it gay to…’
‘yes.’ robin interrupts before he can finish.
steve opens and closes his mouth a couple times. his mind is blank. blank except for an image of eddie and an image of a strawberry and an intense need in his gut to have the two connect.
‘shit’ steve rubs his hand down his face.
‘fraid so, it’s super gay and i hate to be the one to break it to ya.’ robin pats him on the shoulder, genuinely looking like she feels sorry for him. until her face shifts into a grin that’s a touch feral. ‘your crush on eddie is officially terminal.’
steve feels the heat on his neck slither up and bite at his cheeks. ‘who, uh, who said it was eddie?’
‘oh come on steve! i’m your best friend i see how you look at him.’ robin laments, rolling her eyes with her whole body, instantly calling his paper thin bluff.
steve groans, pushes away from the counter and starts pacing ‘ugh okay yes fine! i wanna take eddie on a gay strawberry date and make him smile and hold his hand and other stuff and, and im kinda freaking out here rob!’ steve feels frazzled. he cards a hand through his hair and tuggs.
‘okay. okay! it’s fine see, it’s fine.’ robin says, giving steve two big thumbs up and a smile that does nothing to hide the panic in her eyes. steve whines again and goes back to pacing.
‘uhhh okay! is this gay stress or eddie specific stress?’ robin joins him in pacing but she stays behind the counter. ‘because i know we talked about that kid in camp and you had a lot to say about that one guy you saw at a swim meet and then when we watched blade runner you talked over it a lot like normal but also got like really quiet when harrison ford was all kinda sweaty and stuff.’ robin finally takes a breath and turn back to face steve who is gaping at her. he feels like she just dissected his brain like it was a frog.
‘so i feel like we discussed the whole’ robin flails her arms up and down his general being. ‘bi thing. so i’m thinking this is more a like eddie specific freak out and so, like, shut the fuck up actually? hes obsessed with you steve!’ robin finishes, finally.
‘who’s obsessed with steve?’ eddie’s asks. because eddie’s there now. flanked by the three corroded coffin boys, all looking at steve like he’s something to be wary of.
‘uh’ robin and steve say in unison.
‘kieth!’ robin shouts with way too much enthusiasm for their manager who barely does his job. ‘yeah, ha. he’s been doing the schedules so the two of them overlap like, all the time. steve here always figured the guy hated him but, uh, times they do be a changing. yeah, he’s to-totally obsessed.’ robin smiles way too big and steve can only match it. staring at her, trying to make her shut. up. using only his minimal bran power.
‘oooh’ eddie says because he’s an angel who would never make fun of robin even if she’s being super weird.
‘uh, we’re gonna go look at the sci-fi section ed’s.’ Gareth says, his face one of confusion and maybe a little bit of fear.
‘buckley. harrington.’ jeff says nodding his head in acknowledgment of the two before they all wonder off. gareth and (unnamed freak) repeat the motion and follow.
huh. that’s good. eddie’s friends are taking longer than most to thaw to steve. he gets it, but, still, sometimes it stings.
‘cool yeah.’ eddie says watching them slip away. ‘movie day.’ eddie explains, smiling so big his eyes squish into little crescents, bouncing on his toes.
steve feels his actual heart clench. like god himself is reaching into his chest and squeezing it.
‘that’s great man’ steve says, voice coming out breathy but eddie’s smile only brightens further when their eyes lock. so steve has to spend a second remembering to breath in again.
‘you want to join? oh uh. i mean. you can’t. your working.’ eddie babbles, slowly going strawberry red. ‘and like, i know you don’t love horror and stuff and that’s kinda the vibe we’re going for so, maybe um, maybe some other time. a time your not working but when it’s not like alien over and over. uh yeah.’
‘doyouwanttogoberrypicking. with me?’ steve blurts. feeling his whole head heat up and run down his chest. he clamps a hand over his mouth, eyes wide.
eddie looks shocked, eyes so big and confused and pretty.
but before steve knows it, the sun peaks over the mountains and the corners of eddie’s mouth curl into a grin that’s so delighted steve’s toes almost curl.
‘yeah. course i would.’ eddie says, so softly, so shyly through his still strawberry red smile..
‘hopeless am i right?’ jeff says as he steps over to the counter next to robin.
they’re both gawking at the two fumbling through making a plan. all pink cheeked and goofy.
‘hopeless.’ robin confirms, rolling her eyes and going back o actually doing her job. she smiles down at the tape in her hand.
#they go on the date and hold hands!!!#lexssummerfanworkschallenge#steddie#hotlunch#stobin#my fic#<3#it took so long to end this#i hope it’s fun
107 notes
·
View notes
Text
A stressful admission
Tags - ED admission, nervous patient, slight cardio, slight ageplay, medical trauma, comfort.
Bright lights. Beeping machines. Fast paced conversations. Orders.
“Get her hooked up to the sats monitor”
“What’s her heart rate doing now?”
“Her peripheral perfusion isn’t great, can we get an IV sited please?”
“She’s coming round! Chloe, can you hear me?” An older woman’s voice rings in her ears. “Chloe, squeeze my hand if you can hear me.” A warm hand slips into her own and brings her round that bit more. Chloe squeezes her hand as tightly as she can, but her fingers only move slightly.
“Well done Chloe.” The older woman praises. “She’s responding,” she calls out to the other voices.
“What’s happening?” Chloe croaks out quietly, still very disoriented. Her eyes focus on the woman next to her holding her hand. She’s maybe in her forties, with blonde hair and hazel eyes, a stethescope around her neck and glasss perched on the end of her nose.
“You’re at the hospital Chloe, you were found collapsed and brought in by the ambulance. Do you remember what happened?” She asked calmly.
“I, I don’t remember. I didn’t feel well, I was so tired, I had pain.” She trailed off, her brow furrowing trying to summon the blurry memories to the forefront of her mind.
“You had pain where?” The woman pushed.
“Here.” She replied, bringing her hand slowly up to her chest, and the woman’s eyes widened slightly.
A bustling noise of flimsy curtains alerted Chloe someone else had entered her room. The nurse looked up from Chloe to the person who had just entered.
“What’s the story?” A male voice asked in a rushed tone.
“This is Chloe, a twenty six year old female, found in a car park collapsed. Obs are stable now apart from a slight tachycardia, she has just come round and told me she felt unwell and had chest pain before she became unconscious. That’s all we have at the moment.” The nurse replied quickly.
“Okay, let’s get an IV in, bloods sent, fluids running. ECG. Have we got a blood glucose yet?” The male voice rushes. A wave of panic surges through Chloe, she hates hospitals, always has since she was a little girl and she had her appendix removed as an emergency surgery. And she hated not being involved in the conversation when it involved her body, especially if it was going to be unpleasant. She worked in obstetrics herself and knew how often doctors sadly didn’t respect their patients bodily autonomy.
“No, not yet, I can get a reading for you now if you like?” The nurse spoke and stood up, rummaging in the drawers by Chloe’s bed.
“Yes, let’s get that quickly and see what it is.” The doctor said.
Panic swelled again. “I don’t want that.” She spoke timidly, and she felt the gaze of the nurse and the doctor on her. “I’m not hypoglycaemic, I don’t need it. And I don’t need an IV. I’m going to go home now.” She tried to sit up but was too weak and she fell back onto the bed on her side.
The nurse looked at her with pity. “Chloe, we don’t know why you had chest pain and collapsed, but that’s not normal for a girl of your age, we need to rule things out so we can look for the issue and make you feel better.” She tried to calm her down.
“I already feel better, I’m fine! Can you call me a taxi please?” She tried to sound convincing. If she spoke with enough confidence maybe they’d let her go.
The nurse chuckled quietly. “No no, you won’t be going anywhere darling. Just relax so we can take care of you, it’s no good getting upset or worked up, it’ll just increase your heart rate more which we really don’t want! Are you from a medical background?” The nurse caught on.
“Yes, I work here at the hospital but over in the outpatient obstetric unit.” She spoke even quieter, she was feeling dizzy again.
The nurse nodded, preparing a lancet and cotton ball for a glucose reading. “Have you worked there long?” She tried to distract the anxious girl. The doctor was in the corner preparing an IV.
“Stop stop stop!” Chloe flailed. “I don’t want any of this! No needles! I want to go home! I hate hospitals! Please let me go home!” Her voice began to crack and her eyes began to shine with the promise of tears.
The nurse paused and looked at her slightly surprised. The doctor spun around too, walking up to her with the IV set in his gloved hands. “Chloe,” he began firmly, “are you going to let us look after you or not?” He continued.
“No.” She answered hurriedly. He sighed and looked at the nurse a little exasperated. Part of her felt bad, he’d probably had a really long day of difficult patients, she was just adding to his mental load but she couldn’t help herself - the panic she was feeling was taking on a mind of its own, taking over her body and putting her into a more childlike and defensive state of mind.
“Okay. What if we try and get a doctor from your department to come over and treat you? Would that be better?” He tried. Chloe thought it over. She knew they weren’t going to let her go like this, and she didn’t feel well at all. Having someone she knew do the scary bits might not make it as scary… even if the doctors she worked with weren’t necessarily the type of doctors she’d want to be looked after by, their bedside manner a little abrupt and harsh for her liking. Before she could properly think, she was nodding and pulling her knees close to her body, resting her elbows on them.
The doctor looked at her making herself as small as possible and knew she was retreating inwards. “Chloe, you said you don’t like hospitals, or being a patient I suppose is a better phrase as you work in one, but can I ask why that is?” He spoke a little more gently.
“When I was nine, I had my appendix out, it was an emergency and it was terrifying. I never want to feel like that again, so vulnerable and having my autonomy taken away from me…” she trailed off. The doctor nodded, he understood how traumatic emergency surgeries could be, especially to children who had a reduced understanding of the situation.
“I understand how that experience can make you feel nervous now. Thank you for telling me. I’ll try and organise for a doctor that you know to come over and sort your care. But in the meantime, please try to keep your heart rate down, or I will need to put that IV in myself.” He spoke. He meant for it to be comforting but he realised after the words had left his mouth that it sounded a bit like a threat. He cringed slightly at his words, knowing they may not be received well by the anxious girl in front of him. He patted her knee lightly and nodded to the nurse to follow him out of the room. “This is your call bell. If you feel worse please let us know.” He handed her a remote with a yellow button at the top.
“Okay, thanks.” Chloe spoke timidly and watched them leave the room. She sat there for what felt like an hour, in a tiny ball on the bed, she began to feel cold but there was no blanket in the room. Her anxiety was rolling in her chest, threatening to bubble up out of her. ‘Stay calm, stay calm’ she told herself on repeat, and then, there was a knock at the door.
Part 2?🖤
36 notes
·
View notes